there is something to be said for regret. they tell you not to, but here, now, as she curls her fingers in his hair, as he trails heat down her side, she sees it for what it is - a promise that, if the opportunity to rectify mistakes came again, she would surely take it. and all of those agonies, all of those lonely nights, are made gray in the shadow of this perfect, golden moment. 

love me, she thinks. love me as i've loved you for a lifetime and love me longer still, and bo, know i'll always love you in return. 

this promise made with trailing fingers, the tightening of her thighs against his hips, all the rest of her care cast aside as verdant heat grips her. grass sticks to her skin, twines through her hair. she doesn't notice the brush of dirt on her cheek. 

"please," she whispers softly, thickly, as she fumbles with the button of his jeans. 

boruta maher

☉

as the aftermath goes on, she has a moment to sort out her feelings. and past the surprise and the shock, she finds hurt. she finds anger. that silly little bit of her that makes her cheeks go red and tears flush her face, lips all screwed up in a snarl as the tries to shove it back down. 

she feels for him. she loves him. sometimes she wondered if maybe he thought of her like that, but their friendship was more important. they were always friends. 

was all of that precursor to real feelings? did PENELOPE LIVY's reasons for hating her really have merit?

it's the whisper that breaks her; her anger is a summer storm, turbulent but brief, and when he says he's a mess she drags him close to her again. arms around his sides, chest to chest, a full-body hug to let him know that she's there. 

"it'll be okay, ols. i promise it'll be okay."

ollie morales

☉

willow's pretty good at reading the back of bo's neck so she notices, as she's talking, that his shoulders stiffen, that he looks uncomfortable. or like something's bothering him. and she attributes it just to the awkward situation at hand, thinks maybe he might share some sentiments that samuel does, but - 

wait, what?

ollie says each line and one after the other, her stomach does little flips. her brows furrow. she doesn't know what she feels as it settles, only that it's a lot. 

and bo looks so hurt. why does he look so hurt?

"you two...? ollie, you...? i..." she draws her hand back. she stands up. she sits down. she looks away from ollie's bright red face and she looks anywhere but at bo and she chews her lip.

her best friend? he kissed her best friend? who is ollie? who is a man? the same best friend who kissed her after she tried to console him when penny broke his heart for the millionth time? 

boruta maher ollie morales

☉

no, she thinks, because her tongue and her lips are too busy doing something else to the hollow of his throat, i'm not. not sorry at all that after all these years, he still tastes the same, with the earth around them and the flowers crumpling under their limbs (oops). 

that slight tug, a shiver of cool night air against her skin, and she draws back, eyes shining. 

her fingers trail over his jaw and then drop to her shirt, grasping at the hem, and just as she had in her youth, she draws it over her head. all that remains is white lace and this too, she unclasps; the straps droop and that too joins her shirt on the ground. 

back to his jaw now, thumbs on either side of his chin, a warm blush on her cheeks because this is real and this is him and this is happening.

she chuckles, softly, and she says, "i want you," and, against his mouth, "i love you."

boruta maher

☉

this is so far out of willow's element. samuel hadn't taken kindly to 'different folks,' but that had never been an issue. she struggled with maintaining friendships, growing up with roman and all, and she still doesn't have any - well, didn't - have any gay friends. 

and bo's for sure as straight as she is. she looks helplessly at his back now while he goes to prep the pancake mix. she tries to relate it to herself how she can. one hand finds his and she thumbs the side of his wrist, smiling gently. 

"it's going to change. your friendship. but that's okay. i mean, look at me and bo. i wanted more out of what he and i had for the longest time, but...i was afraid. of how we'd change." and other things. 

it's the first time she's said it in so many words and even though this moment is first and foremost about ollie, she finds herself talking to bo. 

"but now things have changed and we're both happier for it. and that's all i really know what to say. i mean, i've never...i don't know. i've only found men attractive?"

ollie morales boruta maher

☉

his face goes away again, swathed by his hands in some desperate attempt to hide his embarrassment. willow still doesn't really get it, but she can put two and two together and sense that he may have done a little bit more than just kiss a dude. 

bo gets up and she shoots a helpless look at his back, but it's honestly probably for the better. her days are still packed and if she doesn't get food in her now, she'll put it of until lunch.

"well, when two people like each other very much..." she starts with a smile as she sinks into the spot next to him. she drapes an arm over his shoulder and gives him a good squeeze.

"ols, if this is about...i mean, bo and i won't judge you for any of it. you're still the same ollie."

boruta maher ollie morales

☉

and like she used to, she shivers into him. her hands drop to his chest, legs folded around his sides, the scratch of jean against jean, feeling all the world asking them to shed their clothes and return to the imprint they'd made here once before. nature has since reclaimed the place where they'd tumbled over one another, but an energy lingers here - 

and she feels it now. sunlight skittering off her fingertips with every brush against bo's jaw, nape, collar. his warm breath spreads over her ear and she chuffs a laugh, turning her head to shake off the goosebumps, and to kiss him on the side of his neck. 

"sorry about this," she mumbles playfully, but she's not really sorry at all as she leaves a careful trail of red skin, fading blue, with her pursed lips and tongue.

boruta maher

☉

coffee drips steadily into the pot and the scent of honey-roasted beans fills the homey space. willow's about to offer to let ollie sit down before he up and does it himself, scurrying over to the couch. there's a throw blanket behind him that she grabs and draws over his lap. 

then she folds her legs and sits down in front of him, ready to hear and comfort whatever terrible thing that's happened to him.

and - 

oh?

oh.

huh.

she's not...entirely sure what to make of that. ollie's always been straight, right? last she remembered, he's only been moony-eyed for penny. and never has he mentioned checking out other guys.

"that's. i mean, ollie, that's okay. that's not...that's not a bad thing?" granted, samuel might not have agreed.

ollie morales boruta maher

☉

"i'll always believe in you, silly. nothing's gonna change that." her voice is softer now, soft like it was when she used to hold a sleepy roman in her arms. days and nights she'd spend by his bedside, brushing back his hair and telling him she'll always believe in him too. 

ollie squeezes back and she smiles. she'd pressed her forehead to his shoulder and she lifts it now. her unruly bang curls against her jaw, sticks to the happy crinkle in the corner of her eye, and when he reaches out, she thinks he's just brushing it aside. 

but then he leans in and his breath is so close to her and she turns her head. his lips find the corner of her mouth instead and she flinches at that too. the rest of her has gone rigid. heat flushes back up to her face. 

no, no, no!

"i'm. ollie, this isn't...i'm... bo." she doesn't push him away. she can't. he's hurting. and he's confused. "bo and i are - i can't. i'm sorry."

ollie morales

☉