[tris]

[formicine]

She glances up to see the SUV coming toward her in a flash of silver, and the horn blares, and then everything goes into slow, strange focus.

It's not exactly her life flashing before her eyes. There have certainly been other moments that were a little more like that in Blue's 21 years of existence. It's more like an outside-herself, extended this is going to be bad in the milliseconds of time between the horn filling her ears, the squeal of brakes, and the crunch of metal on metal.

She lays on the pavement for a moment, letting the breath back into her lungs, and then it registers that the guy is actually yelling at her, yelling at her for hitting her, and Blue scrambles up in the middle of the intersection to flick him off with both hands, screaming, "I had the right of way and it's a zebra crossing, asshole," while blood streams down her arms and soaks through her jeans. He's yelling back about having a green light. None of it makes any sense.

Then, down the street, there's another screech of wheels and a smash, and they all shut up, unsettled and not sure what's going on. The sound of car horns makes her stomach drop, unmoored as though she's gone flying again.

Blue yanks her bike free in favor of keeping moving rather than letting herself process how sick she feels. Its rear tire is hopelessly bent out of shape, like a balloon someone had just let sit. She shakes off the offers of help and people touching her. She just needs to get someplace quiet and closer and safe.

That turns out to be Tris's place. She feels stupid, but apparently bloody and walking a crushed bike is weird enough to let in the apartment, and she knocks on the door with the side of her hand and leans her forehead against it.

Comments

[formicine]

Tris's gaze is warm and a little relaxed, and Blue smiles, a little of the anxiety about what to do or say to make sure everything's okay draining away. It's not that she and Tris have ever had trouble getting their meaning across to each other, particularly, but she keeps expecting things to be tense, possibly because they always have been for one reason or another.

This doesn't feel tense. There's a sort of rush to all of it, a nervousness, but it's the sort of nervousness that comes before good things.

She grins when Tris tugs her back into her bedroom and closes the space to kiss her against the edge of the bed before realizing she can't just flop them both onto it dramatically, much as she might like to. There'll be time for that sort of stuff later.

Blue takes a breath and sits next to her. "Hey," she says, running a hand up along Tris' arm. "So..." She feels very stupid. More kissing, less talking. But it catches in her chest, flutters bird-like. "Do I get to call you my girlfriend, or are we not there?"

[priordivergence]

There's a second where I consider falling backward and letting Blue collapse on top of me before remembering why we can't. I know Blue said she won't break and I believe that she won't but that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve to be handled carefully, gently. No matter the angle we look at it, her day hasn't been easy, so I let her press me to the edge of the bed and then I sit down slowly, giving her plenty of space to join me, to hold one another.

Her question makes me laugh, a light giggle that hardly sounds like me, even though I'm sure Blue has made me laugh like that before.

The question of being her girlfriend seems both weighty and obvious at the same time and I second-guess myself before nodding. "I'd like to be your girlfriend."

[formicine]

Blue is sure she's blushing when Tris laughs, but it's a good laugh, a giggly one that she files away as wanting to cause more often, even if it's at her own expense. "I'd like that too," she says, leaning into Tris' shoulder and tucking her head down against it. Honestly, she's 20 years old, she really needs to stop being such a fluttery chaotic mess about this stuff, but her heartbeat refuses to obey. "I'd really like that."

She scoots back on the bed, carefully, and tilts her head. "C'mere?"

[priordivergence]

Blue fits perfectly against me and I briefly rest the crown of my head on top of hers before letting her scoot away. I'm already halfway to joining her when she asks me to come over and I grin. It's easy to get comfortable, rest my head on my pillow and drape my arm across her.

"Does that mean you're my girlfriend?"

[formicine]

It feels nice, fitting so closely against someone, and she'd hang onto it a little longer if she didn't think, miraculously enough, it was going to be available again when she wants it.

Tris's bed is soft and the pillows smell like her, and Blue smiles at her when she sidles close. The air feels warm and buzzy between them like even the atoms of her skin are reaching for Tris's. "Yeah," she says with a little grin. "I think it does."

"I mean, if you want."

[priordivergence]

As a child, I never had a sleepover. My only knowledge of them is from the occasional Darrow TV show and I have no idea how the real thing measures up but there's an element of it here. I feel light and easy, despite the weight of the confessions we've made, ready to kiss and laugh and relax until Blue's skin hurts a little less.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want that," I point out, letting myself smile. "But I'm kind of new at this."

[formicine]

Blue grins. It's silly, of course: they're being silly and that feels as good as anything. But it's also nice to have these questions answered, to say Tris is my girlfriend in her head.

It's more than nice. It feels amazing.

"At having a girlfriend or at being one?" she asks, sort of teasing, sort of just fond, and pauses. "I mean, I'm not exactly a pro." Blue exhales a laugh. She's like the opposite of a pro girlfriend: between lack of interest, being in love with too many people, and outright being cursed to kill someone, she historically might rank as one of the worst choices in romantic interest ever. "I've dated one ...and a ...half people."

She's still not exactly sure if what she and Adam did was dating or just a small exercise in misidentifying love.

[priordivergence]

"At being your girlfriend," I say. "But also at having anyone for a girlfriend." Much less someone like Blue as my first. She's so important to me as a friend already that I don't want to screw things up romantically. The way things have been in Darrow, at this point I've slept with more people than I've loved and, maybe, I should be ashamed of that but right now, it's simply a ratio.

I could love Blue.

"My track record isn't exactly much better," I point out. "I'm...okay with learning on my feet."

[formicine]

"Oh," Blue realizes, and smiles, because it just really does sound wonderful. She feels silly, but it feels good, a rollercoaster climbing so slowly that it wasn't even noticably moving now cresting its hill, with all the exhilaration and relief, too, that imparts.

And a little bit of fear. Her last couple of relationships haven't exactly ended well, and both of them have said it, but she can't lose Tris. She can't screw this one up. It matters too much.

Somehow she doesn't think she will, though.

"You do have a history of being good at that," Blue says with a little smirk, and nods. "There aren't -- rules to this, you know? I want to be with you because it already felt good. Safe, you know? And -- yeah," she adds, flushing a little and grinning at herself, "maybe I want you, too, but that's too, not just. I want to figure it out with you."

[priordivergence]

Blue smiles and I feel my own face echoing her expression. Safety, affection, desire. I understand those things and now that Blue says them in connection with me, I don't know how I never realized I could find them in her too. My stomach flutters in a way I'm no longer used to and I can't help nudging forward on the bed until we're as close as we can be and still be two separate people. "I don't know what I'm doing," I say again. "But I like the idea of figuring it out with you."

I kiss her and drape a hand across her waist and decide that the only thing to do is be close to her.