Noses and Hearts, Similarly Broken PV Dealla Prince Finished

@Dealla Prince

Fingers fell from the air, Dee's palm hovering for the barest of moments before coming to rest, no longer brushing against the plaid-patterned surface of the scratchy wool pants covering Aly's knee. Guilt ripped through the curly-haired Ravenclaw, and confusion along with it - why was that what she was feeling bad about, rather than all of the millions of other things she'd done to Dee? Perhaps because it was easier to be an absent friend when her best mate wasn't sitting directly next to her, looking at her with those wounded doe eyes.

And making odd movements with her arms, too. Jerky and uncharacteristically unhuman; Aly regarded her best friend's movements for a moment with a perplexed green gaze before an unwilling chuckle escaped her, the corner of her lip pulling up in the tiniest smile. It was, perhaps, the first time she had truly smiled since November flush had brought all the bad news of a worst winter straight to her doorstep. The pull of her facial muscles felt foreign, but right, somehow. Dee was an oddball, but wasn't that just right for Ravenclaw? Wasn't that just right for Aly, too?

"I still don't know what you mean, but all right," she murmured, turning slightly away for a second to compose herself. "I'll hold you to that explanation."

When Aly turned back to face Dee, her blue gaze was bigger and bluer than usual, and it took Aly an instant or two to realise that this was because of the tears that had welled up within her eyes - Dee's, not Aly's, which was as much a surprise to Aly as it probably was to Dee. Her hand, no longer pulled back, hung strangely in the air, like she was trying to decide whether to give Aly a handshake, a hug, or the pat of a beloved household pet.

She was sorry she didn't notice. She was sorry Aly had gone through it alone. And she missed her.

The first two Aly could not really fault her for. She knew that Dee had been going through plenty of her own trauma last year - memories of sitting at a comatose bedside still plagued her oftentimes during the nights, mingled amidst fragments of funerals and fights and forlornness - and Aly was quite used to going through things on her own, anyway. After all, before Dee, she'd never really had someone to confide in - well, other than her father, when he had been home, at least. And... someone else, there, for a while, but that was long over now. Being alone was second nature to Aly now; it was in her blood. But she still appreciated the sentiment.

And she missed me.

Not saying a word, Aly leaned to the side, letting her head drop to rest on Dee's shoulder. Maybe some of the still-sticky blood on her face would get on the cloth of Dee's shirt, and maybe that would be mildly ironic, in a sense. But right now, she just nestled into the crook of her best friend's shoulder and wrapped an arm around the lower part of her back, hoping that their first friendly contact in six months would say the millions of words that could never be spoken.

It wasn't that Dee's anger was suddenly gone. It was still in there, somewhere, in the jumbled mess of feelings in her chest that she didn't quite know what to do with, tangled with her hurt and her relief, and the sliver of happiness that she felt at seeing Aly again, no matter how hard she tried to muffle it. But it was hard to keep it out front, to keep up the walls, when someone she cared about looked and sounded as broken as Aly did in that moment.

So it took a backseat, for the moment, making way for more important things. Dee's own tears came unbidden, unasked for - what right did she have to cry, when it was Aly's pain? But she couldn't help it, and Aly didn't seem to mind. Where her friend had previously jerked away from her touch, she leaned in now, and Dee adjusted automatically so they fit together more easily, Aly's head on her shoulder, Dee's arms coming up to return the embrace fiercely. She shifted slightly, turning her head so she could press her lips against the crown of Aly's head.

There would be more words later. Up in their dorm, where Aly's bed had been empty, waiting for Dee's best friend to return. Where they could share stories and whispers, words of anger and some of pain. Most of those words weren't important right then, but maybe a few were.

"Welcome back, Aly," Dee whispered.

@Aly Salinger
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