There’s a pouring rain outside; Anna can hears it hit the windows of their apartment without interruption. It matches her mood so well that it’s almost ironic.
They’ve fought before, of course. They’ve snapped and spat and cried, but it never felt like that. Screaming matches just aren’t their thing.
Except for the part where they totally are, apparently.
Their story isn’t an easy one, has never been. It will probably never be, because Anna is rebellious and Ruby’s always obeyed her fucked up excuse for a family (which, incidentally, is the very reason of their fight). Because from the moment they met, it’s been a constant struggle to find equilibrium. Because they fell in love by accident.
They fell in love like one falls off a cliff.
Anna had never understood the word heartache before. It used to make her scoff. After all, the heart is just an organ; it pumps blood into her veins. It isn’t supposed to hurt. Love isn’t a medical condition.
But now, she can feel it. Since Ruby left all those hours ago, since she slammed the door with a stricken look on her face, there’s been a pressure. Her chest feels tight and raw. It is painful.
As ridiculous as it sounds, her heart fucking aches.
So Anna paints. It’s the only way she can express her feelings. Language is lacking. Words always get stuck somewhere in her throat, always get twisted and misunderstood. Words have always failed her, as far as she can remember. Ruby won’t answer her phone, anyway.
So she paints. She paints I’m sorry, and she paints please don’t leave me. Her I love yous are hidden among all the anger and the resentment, but they’re here.
Ruby has always been good at reading her creations.
When she’s finally done, her canvas is a mess of colors and barely distinguishable shapes. They’re her angels, they’re her demons, they’re Anna’s feelings. She tries not to look at it for too long, lest she decides that it isn’t such a good idea after all, to bare her feelings for Ruby to see.
It’s past three in the morning, and she still isn’t home.
Anna sighs. She leaves the painting to dry in the den and goes to bed.
She hopes Ruby will come back to see it.
Anna doesn’t sleep well when she’s alone in the bed. It’s kind of funny, actually, because before meeting Ruby, she hated sleeping with someone else. She hated having someone hogging the blanket and breathing loudly. She hated having someone kiss her first thing in the morning, bad breath and all. Before meeting Ruby, Anna was kind of a loner.
Yeah, actually, it isn’t funny at all.
However, it explains why Anna wakes up the moment she feels the bed dip. She tenses, but tries to keep her breathing even. Ruby sighs; she smells like rain and cigarettes and everything Anna loves. It’s all she can do not to burst into tears right here and then.
Ruby, of course, isn’t fooled by her immobility. They know each other too well, at this point.
“I know you’re awake,” she whispers. Anna hums, but doesn’t move, back turned to Ruby. She feels her slip behind her, their bodies meeting like they were made for it.
“I’m sorry, too,” Ruby says. “You asshat.”
In the dark, Anna smiles and closes her eyes.