Chapter Text
They stayed on the floor of the bathroom for a long while, with Vicky’s face pressed into her neck and Haley’s cheek on top of her hair.
It was a sort of mutual agreement to stay there; the moment was too fragile to give up.
At some point they had shifted so they were more comfortable. Haley was sitting slumped against the door with her legs spread so Vicky could saddle up between them and maintain the contact.
Before Haley had given her some medication for the illness, bouts of nausea had hit the other girl every so often, interrupting the contact that Haley had enjoyed more than she’d like to admit.
Vicky would push off of her and scramble to the other side of the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet as Haley crouched behind her and held her hair away from her face.
“I’m surprised you still have anything to puke up.” Haley mumbles as Vicky wipes her mouth for what feels like the hundredth time.
Every time, once the vomiting would stop, Vicky would apologize and say something along like oh jeez, don’t look, or this is so embarrassing, and every time Haley would run her fingers through her hair until she relaxed again.
Compared to what she said earlier in the day about being bad with sick people, she’s been proving herself wrong at every turn.
“I think that was the last of it,” Vicky sighs and presses her forehead against the cold wall beside the toilet, closing her post-vomit watery eyes. “Mm.”
”Fever, still?” Haley shuffles closer, hand raised, ready to check.
Routine.
Vicky shakes her head, eyes still closed. “Headache. I think I threw up all the water in my body.” She smiles wryly. “Not much else to throw up, anyway.”
The fact that she was cracking jokes made relief flood through Haley’s body. She smiled, despite it not being funny at all.
“I don’t know if you can take an ibuprofen along with all the other things I made you take today.” She says apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
Vicky waves her off. “Don’t be. You’ve helped plenty. I’ll go get water.”
Haley holds back her words of caution as Vicky stands on unsteady legs. Apparently confident in her ability to walk, Vicky nods to herself and takes a shaky step. Haley is about to make a teasing comment about baby deer, but ends up watching wide-eyed as Vicky stumbles and a curse slips out of her mouth.
Haley’s on her feet in seconds when she lurches toward the counter for stability, a startled Vic! coming out of her mouth.
”You have to be more careful,” she chastises, leaning closer so she can see Vicky’s face. “You’re sick. You can’t- what are you staring at?”
She follows her eyes, eventually landing on her hands on Vicky’s hips. She’s placed them there unintentionally, and she should lift them, should apologize, should do anything but wrap them around her stomach.
Traitorous mind.
She shouldn’t. Vicky is sick, and she’s exploiting the opportunity because helping her makes her feel confident, that Haley knows for certain. Is she a bad person, if guilt doesn’t bloom like sunflowers in her stomach about it?
But Vicky isn’t looking at her like she wants her to stop, anyway. There’s a measure of confusion in those pretty eyes, a healthy amount of hesitancy, and just a dash of what Haley hopes is curiosity and not discomfort.
Please tell me you want this too.
They’re already standing hip to hip, Haley’s front pressed against Vicky’s back- Yoba, her shoulders are broad- and it wouldn’t take much for Vicky to be pinned against the countertop.
What a nice image. Haley puts it in her mental back pocket to save for a rainy day.
It takes a lot of strength for Haley to drop her hands and step back.
“Are you okay?”
Vicky seems to snap out of some sort of daze, nodding weakly. “Dizzy. But okay.” She scrubs her hands over her face, peering in the mirror. “I look a mess.”
”Eh, not too bad, but..” Haley bites back a smile. “If it weren’t for those awful clothes, you might actually be pretty,”
Haley risks a peek in the mirror to see Vicky smiling. The sound of her laughter makes everything in her soften.
“So it’s my pyjamas holding me back?” She turns around to look at Haley, amusement dancing in her brown eyes.
”Exactly that.”
”I thought I looked pretty cute.”
You do. Yoba, you do. Flannel doesn’t look good on anyone but you.
”I give it a 6/10. Room for improvement.”
”I’ll write it down. Any specific notes?” She asks teasingly.
Haley makes a show of walking around her, eyeing her up and down. Vicky raises a brow when she plucks at the hem of her shorts. “Detailed inspection, huh?”
The shorts are threadbare and clearly handmade. The old t-shirt is printed with the logo and name of a band she remembers Emily talking about, and it has the face of a strange man with black eyeliner around his eyes and matching dark lips. Tour dates are overlayed on top of the picture.
Haley never thought she could be so endeared by something so strange.
“Mm.” She stands back with her hands on her hips. “The weird shirt knocked your score down.”
I got this at a concert,” Vicky mumbles fondly. “Ripped me off like crazy. This was… $30. Saved up for weeks ‘cause I knew I’d get overpriced merch there.”
”When you were still in Zuzu City?” Haley clarifies.
Vicky never talks about what her life was like before coming to the Valley. Haley knows the basics, what everyone knows- her grandfather left the farm to Vicky, and she moved in shortly after his death. Happily ever after.
She hesitates at the mention of the city. Then she nods. “Yes.”
“… what was it like? In the city.” Haley asks slowly. The city has always appealed to her, and the way that Vicky had given up the setting that Haley had spent so long dreaming of created no small amount of jealousy way in the beginning.
How far she’s come, she muses. How hard it is to admit that Vicky makes her want to stay, despite the egregious lack of shopping malls.
Vicky goes quiet, staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes move to Haley’s. “Do you want the truth or my truth?”
Haley exhales. “.. your truth. But water first. And some food. Can you walk properly or are you still a fall risk?”
Vicky’s face softens at the remarks. It’s clear the city is a sensitive topic. She struggles to reconcile the fact of Vicky’s negative experience with her own idealized version of what Vicky left behind.
“I can walk.”
”I don’t believe you.” She insists.
”I’ve been standing for 5 minutes.”
”Standing is different than walking.”
”What, are you gonna carry me down the stairs?”
A very good point. Haley narrows her eyes and purses her lips. Is she holding back a smile?
”I can walk fine,” Vicky assures her. “If you’re so worried, walk behind me.”
”I cannot catch you if you fall.”
It’s at this point that Vicky can’t help but laugh.
Haley’s cheeks burn red, and she swats Vicky’s arm. “Not all of us lift hay bales for a living.”
“Fine, fine. What would you prefer?” Vicky tilts her head, leaning her hips against the bathroom counter. The banter is familiar. Safe.
Haley thinks for a moment. What she should do. She eyes Vicky. She still looks tired, but there’s a liveliness there now that wasn’t there when she found her in her bed. That seems like days ago.
She’s sure she can walk to the kitchen by herself. Slowly, but she can.
But if Vicky’s offering, it would be rude to decline, especially since she’s made her point so clear.
She holds out her hand.
Say yes.
Vicky’s eyes fall to her outstretched fingers. A series of expressions flit across her face, and Haley watches with bated breath.
The most notable she catches is her surprise. This is the first time she’s initiated contact without the mask of caretaking to cover her ass, and Vicky knows.
Vicky knows.
She takes her hand anyway.
Vicky’s hand is warm, rough with calluses. Larger than her own by a fair amount, but her grip is gentle.
Haley turns their hands over, and compares Vicky’s nails to her own. Blunt and short versus manicured and polished.
“I look like I haven’t done a day of work in my whole life compared to you, Vic.” she says, a rueful smile on her face.
Vicky just shrugs, her eyes still on their joined hands with a tiny little grin on her own face.
For a moment, Haley is struck with the sudden, overwhelming urge to find out what that grin feels like against her own. She takes a sharp inhale and looks away. If not for her own sanity, then for her health.
”Come on.” She squeezes Vicky’s hand. “Food and water.”
”Yes, ma’am.”
The affirmative statement strikes Haley dumb, and she turns her head as they leave the bathroom so Vicky can’t see her blush.
————
Vicky drinks an impressive amount of water when they get to the kitchen, which Haley is eternally grateful for. With her headache dying down, her appetite comes back.
Haley is both ecstatic and terrified- ecstatic because this means she’s on the mend, she’s feeling better. Yay!
Terrified because she never realized how crazy Vicky is for food.
She should have known by now. Vicky packs at least 4 servings of spaghetti in her backpack when she heads to the mines.
“How are you doing that?” She says in bewilderment as Vicky plows through an entire pizza she had in her fridge.
She shrugs around a mouthful of dough.
Haley sighs, shaking her head as if that will somehow get rid of her feelings of hopeless endearment.
”Anyway,” Vicky says after swallowing. “You wanted to know about the city.”
Haley looks up like a dog that smelled a squirrel. “Yes.”
She waves a hand. “Ask away.”
Haley nods. “First question..” she drums her fingers on the kitchen table. “.. what did you do for a living?”
Vicky smiles ruefully. “I… worked for an insurance company. 9-5.”
The blonde stares for a moment. Vicky. At an office job. In a cubicle, probably. ”What?”
”Yup. Office job. Hated it. Barely made any money, rent was so high.”
Haley’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. “I would’ve thought… you don’t seem like the office job type.”
”I’m not.” Vicky confirms.
”So why would you do it?”
“I needed the money. Rent was high for a studio apartment-“ she raises a brow. “-which is all you can find in Zuzu City, by the way.”
”I can’t picture you like that at all,” Haley stares. “So stuffy.”
”Very stuffy. Next question?”
”Um..” she pauses. “How personal am I allowed to get?”
”No holds barred.” Vicky hums her, and then sneezes. “Ugh.”
Haley silently hands her a tissue box from the nearby counter as she thinks of her next question.
”Hmm. What were/are your parents like?”
”Ah, straying away from the city, now?” Vicky notes. “My parents, uh…
we don’t talk.”
Haley’s eyebrows fly up. Vicky is full of surprises, apparently.
”What? Why?”
Vicky inhales, and squints. “Lifestyle differences, I guess. I liked being out in the country, and they were city people. I came here a lot as a kid, stayed with my grandpa. They.. my mom, really, didn’t like it here, and she didn’t like me being here.
She wanted me to have as many opportunities as possible.” She smiles sadly. “Sacrificed my own happiness for them. So when I took the chance to move back, they kind of.. finalized what I’ve always known. That they wouldn’t support me unless I was a mini-them.” Vicky pauses, and eyes Haley cautiously.
“They also didn’t.. um. Like that I was..”
She gestures vaguely to herself.
”Uh, gay.”
Haley inhales sharply. There it is, all out in the open. No hiding from it now.
What does she even say to that? She asked, now she knows what she always wanted to know. It’s a shitty way to find out for sure. But nothing to do.
It’s clear Vicky is waiting for a response with bated breath.
“Your parents suck, actually.”
Vicky freezes, then her face breaks open in a grin and she cackles, tipping her head back.
Haley thinks she looks like an angel.
“Thank you. Yoba. I needed that.”
“I’m serious. They suck. I’m glad they’re away from you. You don’t need people like that.” She shakes her head. “Gus is dad enough to fill the roles.”
Vicky giggles again. “True.”
“My parents are the same,” she says quietly, watching Vicky carefully. “I think they know. They don’t talk about it. They still think me and Alex are together. Like, that was highschool, and they ask about him all the time. Completely wrong sex, guys.”
Vicky nods, resting her head on her arm with a soft smile.
”And they’re barely here anyway,” Haley continues. “They’re always on some stupid cruise. They don’t get an opinion. I will do whatever I want with whoever I want.”
”Mm.”
It’s at this point Haley realizes she’s yammered way too much. She pinkens in her cheeks and scratches her neck when she sees Vicky staring at her with a little grin on her face.
“You’re staring.”
”I am.” Vicky confirms gently.
”Why?” Haley says, suspicious.
”Well, you’ve told me some very valuable information, is all.” She smiles. “I hope I remember it when I’m less incapacitated.”
”You better. I’m not being this vulnerable again,” she warns, her voice wobbling under the weight of her gaze.
“You also look very pretty,” she says plainly, still smiling. “I like the…” she points to her own lips, in reference to the lip gloss Haley had picked out with careful consideration that morning. “Whatever you’ve got going on.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
”I’d hope so.” She huffs, flipping her hair over her shoulder to regain some semblance of control. “I tried to look good for today.”
”To come check up on the sick farmer?” She clarifies.
”Some of us take pride in our appearance.”
”Not that much pride.” Vicky hums, a smug smirk on her face.
Damn it all to hell.
”Fine. What do you want me to say, that I’m in love with you?”
The room goes very, very quiet after those words come out of Haley’s mouth. Haley holds her breath as Vicky seems to process what she just said.
”Are you flirting with me, Haley, or am I wildly misreading this?”
You don’t know what you do to me.
Haley looks away, and fists her hands in her skirt under the table.
”Yes.”
“Yes, I’m misreading this, or yes, you’re flirting?”
Haley glares at nothing, embarrassed and refusing to answer. Vicky is patient, along with her numerous other amazing qualities that make Haley’s brain go stupid, so she waits. She waits, and Haley feels like she could burst with all she imagines telling her.
“… the… second option.” She mutters with difficulty.
Vicky smiles.
”Just checking,” she says, and any sort of self-satisfaction she’d had in her tone is carefully smothered.
I love you.
”You’re so annoying.”