Honeycomb Hearts

Closed Eyes, Open Hearts

Just focus on the movie, Yang, this isn't a problem. She's just tired because you woke her up to early. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing else.

The minutes seemed to pass like hours as the movie trudged onwards. Of course, Yang thought, they had to have picked the slowest moving movie in the world. Her shoulders were aching from her trying to stay as still as possible, so as not to stir Blake, and her hands had started to get clammy.

"Yang, you need to relax. If anything, your shoulders being too stiff will wake her up." Yang thought. She let herself relax a bit at a time, feeling her back sink into the soft cushioning of the couch. What Yang didn't account for, however, was that Blake would move with her. Blake's head moved closer into Yang's shoulder, now resting on top of it instead of beside it. "Damn it."

Yang let herself glance over to Blake, to make sure she hadn't woken up. Her eyes were gently closed, and her lips were just barely open. Her ear twitched, rubbing against Yang's cheek. Something was building up inside Yang – she wasn't quite sure what it was, but her chest felt like it was about to explode. She decided to take a deep breath but realized she hadn't let her breath go in a minute, and let it loose slowly. The pressure in her chest did not change.

"Just focus on the movie," Yang said to herself, "Just focus on the movie."

She had obviously missed something important, as the man on the screen was now at home, looking into a mirror, but his reflection was that of an older man. She felt herself wondering what the hell she had missed, but her train of thought was broken as Blake spoke.

"Where's the stepladder?" Blake said.

Against her will, Yang froze again. She glanced at Blake to see her eyes were still closed, and she was indeed still asleep. Had she talked in her sleep? Was she faking sleeping just to get closer to her? What the hell was going on here? Did she even talk? Was Yang losing her mind? Attempting to shake off the sudden sentence, Yang turned her eyes back to the screen. While her eyes registered what was going on with the man and the mirror, her mind was elsewhere. Minutes went by as Yang sat, lost in thought, and the movie went on with no viewers.

"Yang," Blake said. Her ear twitched again.

There it was again. Blake had just talked, and Yang had heard it loud and clear. She looked, but Blake was still sleeping.

"Wait," Blake said.

Yang couldn't take it anymore. There was no way she would be able to focus on anything else but Blake while she was awake. Slowly, she moved her head towards Blake's, careful not to touch her ears, and laid her head gently atop the bed of black hair beside her. It was soft – softer than the couch back at the house – but Yang could feel each individual strand of hair. Was this what it was like to cuddle with someone? Was Yang even cuddling at all? The questions clouded her mind, and her mind began to shut down, her eyes drooping. The clock across the room shone "9:37 PM", having nobody to read it, just as the movie had nobody to watch it. Yang felt the weight of her head press onto Blake's as she relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

The house was dark aside from the computer screen, and the wind and rain outside had calmed, but never stopped. The world went on, unawares of the actions between these two women, who were safely resting beside each other after the mayhem of the day. Blake's mouth opened one last time, saying words that she knew she believed, but would never have the courage to say while awake.

"I love you Yang."