TWENTY

★Kiara★

Lucille returns to the dorm with a CVS bag and an exhausted look on her face. "You're helping me." She demands.

"I am? With what?"

"I need to re-dye my head, and thus I need your assistance." She explains, taking a box of hair dye from the bag.

I get up from where I was typing at my desk. I was working on a paper that's due on Monday. That's 3 days from now, but I like getting things done on time. Lucille, on the other hand, seems to be the type to push things off. She said she was going to dye her hair last weekend on Sunday, after the get-together with everyone, but then she decided she was too tired.

Her hair is so faded now that it's a similar color to clouds during a sunset. It still has pigment to it, but it's very pale. I hope she got a different brand of dye this time.

"Aren't you exhausted from school?" I'm really only saying this as an excuse. I'm tired from my classes today.

"Yes, which is why we should do this now."

"Odd logic, but okay..." I follow her into the bathroom.

She takes off her sweater, just in a white tank top, but she still looks good. "Hold on, I'm gonna change into my dyeing shirt."

She exits the bathroom to change, while I simply wait. She never changes in front of me—which is completely fine—but I'm curious. It feels rude to ask though. Besides, I'm pretty sure I'm the weird one for not caring about changing in front of others.

She returns with a dark gray, baggy graphic t-shirt on. It's the same shirt she wore last time. There's some dye already staining it. There's also now a pair of scissors in her hands. This could go many ways.

"Hold on—am I cutting your hair too?"

"I can do my bangs, I've done them plenty of times. But you need to help with the back."

"And you're trusting me?" I have never cut hair in my life.

"Just don't fuck up." She says, beginning to mix the dye on the counter. I turn on the bathroom fan for some circulation.

"You know, maybe I shouldn't do this... Your hair length looks fine." I say, having absolutely zero faith in myself. Her hair reaches just below her shoulders now. It seems to grow fast. When we first met it was around her chin in length.

"I like it short. I've always had it short. Otherwise it's way too much work to make it look good with my waves and straightening it and conditioning it and it's just too much effort." She explains.

"Alright, but you can't be pissed if I fuck up."

Once she's done mixing the dye, she wets her hair and then confidently trims up her bangs. I think she's already cut them a few times in the past month or so, which seems like a much simpler task.

And then suddenly she's done and is handing me the scissors.

"I'm going to ruin your social life." I mutter.

"Excuse me?" She says with a little laugh.

"I can't do this. I can't even cut a straight line with paper. I can't even draw a straight line with a ruler!" I drop the scissors onto the counter.

"That's the gayest thing I've ever heard you say." She turns around to face me, leaning against the counter top as she looks up at me. Shortie.

"You know what I mean! Please don't entrust me with this. Like, this is breakup worthy if I mess up bad enough."

"Fine..." She says, shaking her head with a smirk tugging at her lips. "You really need to practice cutting hair though, because this will be one of your duties as my girlfriend."

"Okay. Just not today."

"Not today... I'll get it trimmed tomorrow. We still have a lot to dye first though."

We both put on gloves. She bought two of the brushes you use for dyeing, so we can do it at the same time.

She works on her bangs and the more front parts, while I get the back. It's a surprisingly calm process, especially compared to last time.

"Is this still pink?" I ask. It's hard to tell with how dark it looks in its goop form.

"Yeah, but it's more purple supposedly. Like magenta I guess." She explains as she sets down her dye brush, having finished the front.

"Hm. Oh! I meant to tell you, Deven and Lucas are official now. They finally asked him out." Deven texted me earlier today that they finally made a move after class.

"Oh shit... They already seemed pretty close last weekend so I'm not surprised."

"I think this is Deven's first partner since maybe our Senior year?" Their last boyfriend cheated on them, which, naturally, sucked but I don't see Lucas doing that.

"Well good for them. Both of them, I mean."

I finish with the back, setting the brush in the container that held all the dye. We thankfully got less staining in the sink this time.

After cleaning up and Lucille letting the dye sit a bit longer, she hops in the shower to rinse it. I'm a little sad it won't be properly hot pink anymore. If it's more purple then she won't look as much like Princess Bubblegum. Well, she doesn't look like her regardless, but I mean the shade of pink. I guess she'll always be Bubblegum in my heart though.

When she's done in the shower, she blow drys her hair. I have to help with that too. I don't complain though. I get to blow a bunch of wind in her face.

Once it's dry, it looks really good. It's a great color on her.

"You look pretty." I say, my face heating up as I compliment her. She seems a little down though. "You okay?"

"The length is still bothering me. It's fine—I already booked a short appointment for tomorrow—but you know."

"Well, I think I can assure you that you'd be more miserable if I actually ended up cutting it."

"That might be true..." That forces a smile out of her. She's so freaking adorable I cannot.

I wrap my arms around her from behind. We're still in the bathroom, facing the mirror. It's hot in here from the blow dryer, and it has the pungent smell of the dye, but the sweet smell of her shampoo too. In the mirror I can see the faint smile on her lips, a sweet sign of her happiness.

She leans back against me, touching my arms with her own hands, holding me. Kinda.

My chin rests on the top of her head, and we stay like that for a few more minutes.

"You don't seem like the type that would be big on physical touch." She admits.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I dunno why, it's just not something I'd expected."

"Well, what's your love language?" I ask.

"You'll have to figure that out yourself, but I don't think it'll be hard considering... Let me show you, actually." She stands upright, and I release her from my arms, following her as she leaves the bathroom. "Tada!" She reaches into the CVS bag from where it was staying on the counter, and presents me with a package of Twix candies.

I don't bother holding back my grin. "You got me Twix?" I take the bag of mini Twix candies from her.

"Well I passed the candy aisle, so I asked Deven what your favorite candy was and... Yeah."

I pull her in for another hug, a proper one this time. "Thank you..." She hugs me back. "I'm assuming it's gift-giving then?"

"Yeah... I've always loved buying and making presents and stuff for people..."

"Well then I'm definitely looking forward to every birthday and Christmas." I tease.

"When is your birthday?" She asks as we pull away.

"July 13th. I was also born on a Friday." I inform her.

"You were born on a Friday the 13th?"

"Mhm."

"Bullshit."

"You can check for yourself. July 13, 2007 is a Friday."

She pulls out her phone, checking the calendar app. "That's crazy." She laughs. "Do you like horror movies?"

"I do..."

"My mom will love you... I don't care for them, they aren't scary to me—though that's probably because I've been watching them since I was like 5."

"How about gore?" I ask. "Gore can gross me out sometimes."

"Indifferent. We watched the Terrifier movies this summer, actually. I didn't think it was that bad, but my dad had to leave the room."

"Okay, um, you know suddenly I don't feel safe anymore. I could hardly get through the first one." I admit.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like when that chick was literally getting sawed in half—just no. They didn't have to show all that."

Lucille simply shrugs. This is why 5 year old's should not be watching horror or thrillers. My god.

★★★

Time is a bitch.

It's somehow already the end of another week. It's Saturday, October 18th, meaning tomorrow will be Lucille and I's official three week anniversary. It's not a crazy milestone, but it's weird how long it's already been.

I met with a therapist on Tuesday. It was... different, I guess. I'd talked about my parents, mostly, since that's the biggest of my life's problems. I didn't really retain much of what she told me about trauma which probably defeats the whole purpose of going, but I suppose it was nice to be able to talk about it, and be able to cry with no shame.

I talked about Lucille a bit too. I mentioned my own fears when it comes to our relationship. There's no denying that I'm constantly worried about screwing things up and losing her. Like, last Friday when I was too afraid to simply cut her hair. Heather—that was the therapist's name—said it's most important to focus on the now's, rather than the what-if's in terms of anxiety. Easier said than done, but she knows that.

I have another appointment scheduled for this upcoming Tuesday too. It's stressing me out a bit because, while it was nice to vent, it felt very open. Which I am not at all used to. Heather said we would work on that.

Deven and I hung out on Wednesday, which was very different from our usual hangouts because we just talked about our new-found partners most of the time. The four of us—Me, Lucille, Deven, and Lucas—will be going on a double date next weekend.

Yesterday, I also hung out with Lucille, Dakota and Brie for a bit.

While this week hasn't been bad, I haven't had much time or energy to write. School is the one to blame for that. Too much homework. I have an essay due on Wednesday, and another one due Thursday, and various other assignments have been scattered about.

Tonight is about me though. And Lucille, I suppose.

It's pouring outside. Like, genuinely torrential. Usually I wouldn't like to say it's raining cats and dogs, but it basically is. It's probably good for the environment since we've only had light rain here and there, but it's still a lot.

I'm watching it pour down out the window. It's fascinating. I can't even see a mile out into the city. It's 5 PM, but it's so dark outside.

"I love the rain." I say, directed at Lucille.

"Why?" She asks, seemingly surprised by this admission.

"Oh no. Don't tell me you're one of those people who despise it..."

"I mean... Why do you love it?" She counters.

"It's peaceful" I've always loved the sounds of thunder and the constant pitter-patter.

"Peaceful..." She mimics, flashing her eyes.

"What?"

"I just don't have the most happy, calm memories associated with it, I guess..." She shrugs a shoulder.

"Like what..?" I ask hesitantly. Please don't tell me Lucille has trauma. She doesn't deserve trauma.

I stand from my bed, walking across the room to join her on her bed. She scoots back against the wall beside the mattress, as do I, sitting beside her.

She takes a breath. "Okay, so it's kind of stupid but I used to love thunderstorms. Not for any particular reason, they were just cool. But when I was 13... Well, so... Tornadoes are rare for Maine. Like not something you even consider as becoming a problem if you live there. But one night—well, it wasn't even technically a tornado. It was a thing called a microburst which nobody fucking warns you about when you're learning about natural disasters in elementary school."

She's rambling.

"But basically one night there was a pretty crazy storm and that happened. Like, dozens upon dozens of trees were knocked down in our yard, ten of which landed on our house. We were like already in the basement because we had a living room down there so we were just watching movies as a family like we always did. The power cut suddenly, like pitch darkness, and there was a lot of noise upstairs cause, you know, trees. And... Yeah."

I don't even know what to say right now. But holy shit.

She keeps talking, "Everything we had was wrecked by the trees and the rain. It was completely irreparable. We couldn't even get out of the basement, like we were completely trapped... My parents couldn't even call 911. Me and my sister were terrified. Quinn was only like eight. I don't remember how, but they got us out eventually. I think it was a good 15 hours later though. We stayed with a family friend for a bit, and then an apartment. We thankfully had good insurance and my parents have always had good money, so like a year later we were able to completely renovate the land. Brand new house and everything. No more trees ha... But yeah. Pretty traumatic."

"Shit." I pull her in for a hug.

"I'm okay. It's been like five years, and things are okay now."

"That doesn't mean the pain is gone." I say, mostly speaking from experience.

"I know. But I really am fine, I promise. The rain just makes me uncomfortable... Reminds me of some rather unpleasant memories."

"Yeah, that's kind of my whole concern." I pull back, taking her hand in mine. "I have an idea—and maybe this is the exact opposite of what you need right now—but what if we went outside?"

"In the rain..?" She asks in clarification.

"Mhm. I've always wanted to dance in the rain but my mom would have murdered me."

"Is that safe? Healthy?"

"Nope!" I climb out of bed, taking her hands in each of mine. "Come on!"

She's a little hesitant, but eventually gets up with me. We slip on our own pairs of Crocs and race out of the dorm.

We make it out to the parking lot and we're already soaking wet.

"This such a—" Lucille cuts herself off noticing she can hardly be heard over the rain. "This is such a bad idea!" She shouts

"WHO GIVES A SHIT!" I shout back, throwing my hands in the air, running in the massive parking lot.

I see her laughing, looking up at the sky. "FUCK TORNADOES!" She yells.

"Woah there—let's not jinx it. Don't wanna be the next Dorothy and Toto." I tease, taking her hands in mine again.

"Oh my god... YOU ARE SO STUPID!"

I bring my hands up to her shoulders. I look up to the sky like she did, "FUCK YOU, MOM!"

"HELL YEAH!"

We're both dying of laughter, unbelievably soaked in our pajamas. We're illuminated by the warm streetlights. I stare into her eyes and she stares back at me.

"We're totally gonna get sick." She says, her voice still a little raised to be heard.

"At least we'll be sick together."

"Gonna be hard to be take care of eachother."

"We have Deven for that." I wave her off, and we laugh again. God, I love her smile. Her little dimples. Her little snorts.

I don't want to look away. And I don't. She doesn't either, her gaze simply on mine. But then my eyes wander down to her grinning lips.

And suddenly she's staring at my own.

And then her smile wavers, her lips falling down, parting.

And then I hold her face in my hands.

And then I kiss her.

And then she kisses me back, her hands around the back of my neck.

And then I don't want to pull back.

But we do, because breathing is kind of important, and the rain is making it a little hard to do through just my nose.

I don't let go as we catch our breaths. I press my forehead against hers, and she laughs softly. I laugh too.

"This is actual romance novel, K-drama level shit." She says.

"Is that a good thing..?"

"You know, in my head, no. But now that we're here..." She finishes her sentence by pulling me back in for another kiss. My hands move lower, down to her hips. She's on her toes to reach my height, and I'm leaning forward. It's probably not great for my back but I have priorities. And right now, this is my priority. Lucille.

We break away again, laughing again as well.

"I don't know why, princess, but you are my favorite person..." I admit, the word princess just coming out naturally.

"I thought you were supposed to stop calling me that." Even in the dark, gloomy atmosphere, the streetlamp allows me to see the blushing on her damp face.

"Maybe... But I'd like to nullify that agreement."

"Mm... Fine."

We hold each other a little longer, but eventually decide that we should probably go inside. We race back to the dormitory, and to our precious Dorm 212, dripping water everywhere.

"I hope the rain will have some positive connotation for you now." I say when we get inside, dripping water everywhere.

"Oh, it definitely does. Also, dibs on the first shower." She says quickly.

"Screw you." I say playfully.

"That can be arranged..." Her words confused me for a moment, but then I realize what they imply.

"You one hundred percent stole that line from me, but I'm not even gonna be mad." A smirk fights its way onto my face.

She grabs a quick shower, and I dry off with a towel, shivering. After only like two minutes I'm already calling for her to hurry up. I might get sick, I probably will, but I won't be upset as long as she stays healthy. Like I said, this girl is somehow my favorite person...

A/N: FIRST 3000+ WORD CHAPTER LET'S GO!!!!! Also, we've only got six more chapters left (One of which is just an epilogue)...