➵
The ride to Millie's apartment had been quiet.
Even if there was so much to say, neither of them were inclined to utter a single word. They were sharing a space together (and that was new) but still, they did not feel comfortable enough to chat like old friends or acquaintances.
Millie had her head rested on the window, while Finn was tiredly driving with just an arm; he always looked in front of him. If he did tilt his head, he would be distracted by her, and that was no good.
His eye lids were almost closing for the sleepiness; but he needed to stay awake. So, after forty minutes of deadly silence, he dared to bring on a pseudo civil conversation.
"We are going to be on every newspaper tomorrow." He pointed out, already feeling his nerves tensing.
Newspapers were stupid. Gossip channels? Even more. But no matter what he did, he always found himself on there. His name was combined with hers even if they weren't friends anymore. A constant. Wolfhard-Brown. The duo. The lovers. The enemies. The same old story.
"I know." Millie admitted quietly, arms crossed tightly to her chest while staring out of the window.
Los Angeles never slept. Hollywood neither. It sucked the soul out of you, and when they were done with it, they threw it into the trash, looking for another body to slaughter.
"And this is because of you. How— How could you do that? Couldn't you just go home instead of playing Dora the fucking explorer around Los Angeles?" His voice raised dangerously.
"You are seriously blaming me? I have... I have run away because what you have said to me! Because you hurt me!" She finally turned her head to him, offended again by his words.
Why couldn't he shut up for once?
She was currently having a breakdown, craving for some silence, sleep and an aspirin to shut down her brain after that messy day, and yet, he still kept on with their endless fight.
"Have I such an impact on you? Good to know. But you were overreacting. You have to stop being like this."
She raised her brows in surprise, "And how should I be? Like you?"
"Like me?" He questioned, confused.
"Yeah, should I be different? Acting superior? Acting passive aggressive? Being an insensitive friend and an asshole? No, thanks. I'd rather be an over dramatic child than being you, Finn Wolfhard."
Millie always had that thing of saying his full name. He was just not Finn; he was Finn Wolfhard, especially when she angry to him.
She caught her cigarettes from her purse and lightened one, trying to look for some comfort and relax in nicotine. When he was around, her addiction amplified.
God. He was such a toxic presence — she couldn't wait to get a rid of him, now.
"Wait a minute, you smoke?" His eyes widened in surprise while seeing Miss I don't do anything wrong Brown blowing out some smoke.
"No, it's an illusion of your mind." She scoffed, exhaling a cloud of smoke to calm herself and forgetting about her current situation.
Her, upset as hell, being in Finn's car while he was driving her home after two years of silence. Who would ever think of it? Surely, not her.
"Seriously— do not smoke in my car." Finn commended, so weirded out seeing her acting like this.
"What? Why? You used to smoke too!" She argued, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, but you see me doing that in my car? No. Out of the window. Now." He pressed a button and let the window on her side roll down.
With an huff, she threw the Marlboro out of the car, "Wow, now you care about my health..."
"I care about my car not being stinky with your smoke." He ended the conversation with a dry grimace, finally turning left and still following the GPS that lead to her house.
After a while, they pulled over in the underground private parking of the building. There, he could spot a white Mercedes — apparently Millie's car.
"God, it's almost two a.m and my house is still on the other part of the city. I won't be there until four." He whined loudly while checking the hour on the phone.
"You can— you can stay here if you want." Millie suddenly said, as she was walking out the car and grabbing her shopping bags from the back of it.
"No." He stayed sat on his car, not even moving an inch.
Actually, he was ready to go. That option didn't even cross his damn mind.
"Alright. I just see you're very tired and I... I don't want you to have a car crush or something. I'd rather know you are here and get some rest." Her proposal was genuine.
She didn't want to have him around, but she couldn't deal with guilt if something happened to him. Finn couldn't simply sleep well, and she knew it very well.
Reluctantly, he looked at the watch again, scratching the back of his head. Well, incredibly, she was right. And he didn't want to die in a car accident because of her.
It was just a night. One single night.
Nothing wrong could happen.
"Okay. Damn," He turned off the engine and opened the door, "okay."
"Okay." She repeated, pursing her lips together.
Gratitude and Finn Wolfhard couldn't stay in the same sentence, apparently.
"This shit is so weird. I swear to God, I spent too much time with you today and—" He started to ramble, maybe because of the tiredness and that sudden new environment.
"And what?" She snorted ironically, rolling her eyes up to him.
"I don't know. I just didn't expect it?"
She huffed, "And is it so bad?"
"We have been fightining for all day and honestly I'd rather be in my own house. So yeah, it is bad." He shrugged his shoulders, still looking down at her.
"Well, I am not amused to be with you too since today. But I'm still offering you a place to stay since it's late. So stop being an asshole, and learn to show some gratitude!" She snapped, slamming two of her shopping bags into his chest.
After taking the elevator, there they were to the last floor of the building — the penthouse, one of the many houses Millie owned. But that one was her favorite for sure: it was for the giant window walls that offered a panoramic vista of the city and, most of all, of the stars above.
"Nice place." He commented, while looking around and focusing on the modern white and silvered furniture and a wall filled with magazines with her face printed on it.
More or less, they would be about half an hundred. Fifty covers of Millie Bobby Brown.
"Wow— you sure do like your face." He snorted, looking at one he knew very well.
That was the Dazed one, a photo shoot they did together a lot of years before. Wow, looking back at it they were so young.
"Can you keep your comments to yourself?" She muted him, resting the shopping bags on the sofa and taking off her brownish sweatshirt.
She was finally home; no more sweat, there was some air conditioning to bless her, and she could finally wear her comfort clothes and relax herself.
Too bad Finn was there too.
"I mean— you put your magazines on the wall of your house. Who the fuck does that?" He laughed with a dry chuckle, pointing at her l'Officiel magazine.
She finally turned her back to him, "My mom did."
"My mom keeps the magazines with my issues too but she doesn't hang them on the wall of my apartment, Millie."
"Well, Mary is not my mom. Mine wants to show off my achievements. So, yeah, another comment and you can go out of the door." She commented, wearing her glasses now.
He cackled his tongue, sparing his nasty comments, "Alright."
"You know a "Sorry" would be nice to be heard from your part!" Millie said, frowning even deeper.
He shrugged, "I don't have anything to be sorry for."
It was useless arguing again. Millie had seriously enough of it.
Tiredly, she pointed at the corridor, "Of course you don't. Anyways, your room is other there. It's the guest one."
"Okay. Can I take a shower or something?"
She slightly nodded, walking to the other side of the corridor where her real bedroom was, "Sure."
Seeing her walking away, Finn finally tilted his head to the ceiling tiredly, "Okay."
She slammed the door behind her, hitting lightly the surface with the back of her head.
Once again, she acted nice to him when he didn't even deserve it. Why should Millie care about him and his sleepiness? Why did she ask him to spend the night here?
As long as he stayed out of her way, she should be happy.
Still, she had this stupid kindness inside of her; no matter how many times people kicked her ass and hurt her (in any way possible), she would find her inner courage and move on, smiling and fighting against that cruel world that didn't appreciate for who she was.
People couldn't hurt her. Finn Wolfhard couldn't destroy her. He already did once and she was still there, breathing, being successful as ever before. Millie didn't need him; she didn't need him anymore.
She shook her head, walking to her wardrobe and wearing her blue and white striped pajamas, walking barefoot on the parquet of the room.
It was just a night. A single, miserable night and he would go out of her life. She would spend some time together with him on set and then she would have moved on. That was the plan.
But things never go as we want.
*
After thirty minutes, Finn walked out the guest room, fresh and cleaned from a cold shower. He was just wearing his white t-shirt (the one he had beneath the green sweater) and jeans, as his feet was brushing on the ground and walking again to the living room.
Millie was there, preparing herself a herbal tea she used to sleep better — and that she used to swallow down her anti-depressive pills.
He crossed his arms, breaking the icy silence, "I just took a shower."
She poured the hot drink in her chipped cup, ignoring his gaze, "Wow. You shower, then. People have been asking about it for a lot of years."
He huffed, pinching his temples and ignoring her basic insult, "And there was some... man shower gel in there."
She slightly rolled her eyes up to him, "Yes, I suppose there is."
"So... Uh. Well. You're like dating or living someone or something?" He finally spat it out, not really sure why he did ask such personal questions.
Do not get him wrong, he seriously didn't care about who she dated or not. It was any of his business. Still, as the curious guy he was, he couldn't help but ask her.
Their gaze finally intertwined. But there's no joy in both of their expressions, "I am not dating anyone. My home is London, and I've been here for like almost a year."
Millie grabbed her cup with two hands while walking back to her room, ready to cut off that embarrassing conversation. Finn seemed not be satisfied about her evasive answer, though.
"This really doesn't answer the question—" He said, while following her to the corridor that leaded to the bedrooms.
"Yeah, because you are no one to ask questions about my personal life!" She incredibly snapped, turning her head and frowning hard.
He did understand, but he couldn't help but think how much of a bitch she was.
"I just — Yeah, I don't want to sleep in the bed where, you know..." He left his words left unspoken, too embarrassed and somehow irritated to say them.
But his eyes travelled down her body, focusing on a sport or two of her silhouette that explained a lot of things.
Horrified, she used the cup to shield herself, "You dumb piece of shit, is this your concern? If I slept with someone in your room? Well, big news: sheets can be replaced and washed. Goodnight."
Then, she walked back to her room quickly and closed the door loudly, leaving him speechless in the middle of the corridor.
He snorted in response while walking to the guest room.
In the moment he laid down on the cold sheets, his mind started to spin.
Cool. He was probably sleeping on a mattress where whoever the hell she fucked the year before slept in. Definitely, not the best thought before going to sleep.
Of course, he wasn't jealous. At all.
He just didn't like sharing germs with other dudes, and Millie dated just goddamn morons, so who knows if those bacteria could turn him into a moron too?
For forty minutes, he simply couldn't find the sleeping position, and kept rolling left to the right, despot the perfect climate of the air conditioning and the comfort of that soft bed and quilt.
The moon was also up into the sky. He could see it, right in front of his eyes. It was so big, reassuring, almost sweet. The silvered rays splashing around the room could be tiny and delicious kisses that the night gave you to help you sleep.
He slapped his head, shaking his head, "I am fucking going insane."
The body was tired, but the mind couldn't stop to work. He craved for some rest, but there's nothing he could do to numb his senses. A horrible feeling was washing over him, making him sweat — almost making his spine shiver.
It had always accompanied him for two years.
Since the moment his heart broke.
The memories came back, as well as the flashback of their end.
"I need to talk to you." Millie murmured, trying her best to find the best words.
"Yeah, Mill?"
She was acting so distant lately. They had just wrapped season four, and so much had happened in those eight months — he was like he had just started to breathe again after countless of days lived in fear and anxiety.
Ah, anxiety. Finn's loyal companion since the very beginning. Since he had stepped a shaky foot on a red carpet. Always there, never letting him be.
"I thought about, you know, your question. You asked me if I wanted to be your girlfriend." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the usual thing she does when she is uncomfortable.
This is already a red flag to him.
"Yeah. Uh, yeah." He rubbed the back of his head nervously.
"I don't know, I thought about it very much. We... we did a lot of stuff. Together. Recently. And don't get me wrong, it was amazing, but..." She bit her tongue, closing her eyes.
"Mill, please, just say it." He sighed, standing in the middle of the garden of her house in Atlanta.
Like a thunder snapping into the sky, it came, "I don't think I love you."
At first, he thought he has just dreamt it.
It couldn't be possible. She said she loved him back four months before, when they had that marvelous night out— he can't believe it. Finn is struck.
The more he looks at her, the more he feels like dying. A force is dragging him down, so much that his feet almost stumbles as he tries to stay still — she quickly catches his forearm, helping him to stay stable.
He slaps her hand away. That was the first time Finn felt that way.
"What?" His soft voice speaks, but it's not tender, neither devastated.
It's angry. The rasp in his words and the way he has just spat them out of his mouth is worrying her. But the young superstar doesn't know that the worst is yet to come for them.
"Maybe, I— I just wanted to feel loved and in that moment I thought I loved you back? I don't know how to explain it."
How could she say something that important so easily and carefree. She didn't give her words a value — and words without actions and meaning are pointless. So fucking pointless.
He shakes his head, fighting that urge to shout at her and cry. He's seventeen. He can't cry for having lost the life his life.
He knows he will find another girl. He knows it's a simple teenage heartbreak. He knows it's stupid. Yes, he knows all of that. But nothing that revolves around Millie is ephemeral, simple or silly.
Since the moment he had laid eyes on her, Finn was always wonderstruck by her wonderful being. She was so funny, and beautiful — most of all, kind. So damn sweet, something that he will never be. Her aura is enchanting, she is the breeze that caresses the trees in a spring day and the water that pours on a dry corn field. She is everything and beyond. He needs her to live.
So why this God blessing is now breaking his heart without any shame or any hint of regret?
"Finn, please..." She doesn't know what to say, as some tears starts to define her cheeks and she quickly wipes them away with the back of her hand.
He slaps his hands on his hips, scoffing, "What the fuck should I say?"
"At least, a-appreciate my sincerity—" But he immediately interrupts her with a hand.
"Spare it. You always preach sincerity and love and shit like that and you have just said to me that you never loved me and you haven't done for four months, Millie. Do you know what it means?"
"I just... I just think it's not the best time for me to get a b-boyfriend. Mason keeps threatening me, and I—" She is rambling now, Finn can't understand she is confused.
He just cares about the glassy sound of his heart shattering, and the pieces are so microscopic that cannot be fixed into their right place.
"No, it means you lied to me. You made fun of me. After caring for you for all of these fucking months. Was I... Was I game you got tired of?" He knows he can't stop himself now.
Finn is great in hurting people. He's amazing in pushing them away. Either he hated or he loved you; there was no in between. Still, she hopes he can find some forgiveness inside of his heart.
But he doesn't.
"I know I did wrong. But I told you the t-truth now. I don't think we will ever be a good match, Finn. We are too different and I'm scared of it. I am scared. Of my life. I'm not stable."
The more she keeps justifying herself, the more he would turn on his heels and walk away. God, what kind of apologizes were those? He is staring at a liar, not the girl he has loved for a lifetime.
"Okay." He stops her.
He had enough.
"Finn, please—" she tries again, taking a step further and crying on his chest.
He looks down, and his hasn't the heart to shove her way. He feels her body quiver, her tiny fists clenching his shirt as the tears wet his clothes
But he didn't feel any pity.
"You know what?" He finally said when their eyes met, "I felt something was off. I am not surprised. The way you kissed me, or the way you were acting different. I knew you weren't one hundred percent sure of it, but I thought that with time you would... you would understand how much you mean to me. You were the world to me, Millie."
He takes a step back from her. That was the last time he would have touched her. That was a promise he intended to keep.
"But guess what? You don't deserve me. You never did and never will. I am sure you had fun being cuddled and protected, making me feel at the top of the world when you never actually feel any of it. I hope you enjoyed it. Because you won't ever, EVER, talk to me anymore."
"What—? No, we have to figure t-this out—" she speaks through her meaningless tears.
Liar's crying was not worth it. And her despair is the fuel of his rage he can't put down. He is hurt in the pride and, most of all, in the heart.
"There's nothing to figure out! Absolutely nothing!" He barks, walking fast to the gates of Millie's villa.
"Finn, I am about to leave for London! Filming is over, I have a s-stalker behind my back, I need you! I so very need you!" She shouted, running back at him and holding his wrist.
The mere touch didn't mean anything anymore. He slaps it away again.
"And I don't want you to need me because you fucked it up while lying to me for four bloody fucking months! When I kissed you,"
The past was unbearable.
Finn's eyes opened widely, as he murmured out loud his own memories in that room inked with darkness, "When I kissed you, I was being sincere."
"When I touched you," He looks down at her, broken, feeling all the affection he had for her slowly flowing out of his body.
"When I touched you, I felt like that Heaven couldn't compare." He said out loud again, standing motionless on the mattress, his own voice bombarding his ears.
He just recited it by heart like it was his saddest yet so vivid romantic play.
His least favorite one.
"When you told me you loved me back," He felt a tear streaming down his face, while his eyes turns into ice.
"When you told me you loved me back, it was the best day of my life." The same tear of two years before burnt his cheek.
He find the courage to shut down his own stupid memories, that day of April still stuck on him like a cursed tattoo he couldn't get a rid of.
What the fuck was he doing in that room? He couldn't stay there. He couldn't sleep in Millie's house knowing that she did all of that to him. Him. Her best friend, her confident, the man she never loved as someone more than a brother.
He jerked up the bed, collecting the rest of his clothes and wearing them in a rush, after he ran out the room and tried to reach the entrance door.
He wouldn't expect Millie still being up, reading at almost three a.m on her sofa. She was too anxious to sleep, anyway.
"Finn? Where are you going?" She asked in alarm, removing her glasses while holding the book with just a hand.
"Out of here. I have to go." He cut her off, grabbing his jacket.
"Did— did something happen?" She stuttered while walking towards him worriedly.
He shook his head, feeling his rage amplifying the more he stared at her face. She was the image of the girl that broke his goddamn heart, and he simply couldn't pretend to ignore it anymore.
He didn't want to pretend he was fine. He was tired to keep on with that huge ass lie.
"I want to get out of here." He simply admits while his wrists shook.
She tilted her head, focusing on his dark circles and reddish eyes. There isn't need of a genuine to understand he cried.
"Finn, you didn't even sleep. Please, go back to your room—"
He shook his head, in panic, "I don't want to stay here with you."
There. He said it.
She knew that it could be the reason but why all of a sudden?
"Why not?" She asked, crossing her arms tight to her chest.
"Why not? Are you fucking hearing yourself? Because I don't want to breathe your air, that's why!" He shouted, trying to understand why she couldn't still understood his feelings after all of that time.
Her brows arched, "Why the hell are you so aggressive all over again?"
"Because I thought. I thought about everything while standing there. And I remembered why we can't be friends, lovers, anything like that."
She sighed. Not again. That day seemed to not end.
"You need to sleep, Finn. You won't get out of my house like this." She tried to hold softly his wrist and drag him back to his room.
Finn was so much stronger than her, though. He untangled himself from that unnecessary touch and he clenched his finger around her arm instead.
"Don't you understand? Since I have been around you I feel like shit! I was so happy before! I was so happy before seeing you again! Yeah, with my friends, my career— you're r-ruining everything again!" He couldn't ever admit how much afraid he was right now.
"I am not ruining anything. You are doing it by yourself." She said, her vein starting to pulse on her forehead, "You and your stupid selfish attitude!"
He shoved her out of her way, "Fuck you. I won't stay here with you. Sleeping in the bed you fuck random strangers. It makes me fucking sick."
Just the image or the mere thought made his guts twists with bile. Finn was jealous by nature: he wanted everything for himself, especially the things or people he claimed as his. He wasn't a possessive douche with control issues but, he just felt that his relationships with certain people were exclusive.
Millie and Finn's bond made him always think that it was special, and she was extraordinary, a jewel he couldn't leave for anything in the world.
He wanted her all to himself. And he did admit it, in an improvised scene, four years before.
"And I wanted you all to myself..." Mike says, eyes full of love for his El. Too bad that was Finn talking just soul out for Millie.
There was time Finn was so badly in love with her that he treated her coldly — ignoring her or acting distant, just because how could you be fine when the girl you love loves someone else?
But when she said she finally loved him back two years before, his emotions grew within him, and he felt so special to be loved by her. Her smile said it all. And then, like an idiot, he understood she was lying and that she didn't feel any of it. All that they did for those four months was not real...
And it hurt so bad, that maybe a stab right into the chest would be less painful.
In shock, she took a step back, "I— I never did—"
He turned himself, stopping her with a hand, "Spare it. Liar. You're just a bloody liar!"
Millie didn't know what to say. He was right: she was; she couldn't erase what she did and what she said to him, or the experience they both shared together. Their bond had always been unique, and particular. In her own special way, Millie loved him. But apparently, not in the same way he did.
"Yeah. You were a liar back then, and you are still now!" He started shoving her, her body slamming against the wall behind her.
But she was a strong girl. She wasn't afraid of Finn — she knew she would never physically hurt her; she knew that under that layer of hatred her Finn was still there.
"I... I didn't want to hurt you. You have to believe me!" She cried back, saying nothing but the truth.
She hated lying to him but she was not in the condition to love somebody, let alone having a relationship. But she knew she lied to him, maybe because his comfort and love was what she needed in order to forget about the threats and her life turning into a nightmare.
Millie used him, but she was too proud to admit it.
"You did. You fucking did. I loved you so much, and you didn't. Yet, you told me you did. Why?! Why!" His words kept on, the voice rising dangerously, while his fingers were digging in both of her shoulders as he was praying her to tell him the truth.
Her eyes were widen with guilt, "I don't know! I don't know, I was young! I was stupid!"
"This is not a justification. This is not it. Tell me why you didn't love me and yet you told me you did." His nails sank in his skin, making her body burn.
She shook her head, tears blurring her gaze. "I don't know. I don't know! You are hurting m-me!"
"SAY IT!" He finally roared, shoving her away again and letting her ago before he could seriously harm her.
"I won't tell you something I don't know!" She shouted back, fists clenched and eyes glassy.
"Fucking liar! You hurt me bad—"
And once again, their voices overlapped.
"— I don't know what do you expect from me, Finn! I didn't love you, I told you a lie and I was awful, I said sorry millions of time and you still haven't forgiven me—"
"— and fuck everything you said to me! Anything you say is meaningless now because how am I supposed to know if it's real or not? How the fuck could I trust you—"
"— you simply should!"
He roared back, his vision getting blank for the frustration, "I won't. I won't trust you, Millie. You think saying something meaningful as I love you without meaning it it's okay. Why should I waste my time with you?"
"Humans make mistakes." She replied coldly, staring at him with pure rage exuding from her irises.
The same stare was in his bony face, "Yeah, but I am not God. I don't fucking forgive easily."
"Then freaking go. Go, if it does make you feel better." She finally walked to the door and she opens it for him.
"If you badly want it, then go, Finn! You despise me, huh? I am the bad guy, right?" As she was starting to scream, Finn didn't move an inch.
"You want me to act like the bitch you think I am? You want a serious reason to hate me? Now, I'll say something to you."
She walked to him, angry as ever before. Whatever goodness was left in Millie's soul, it surely was gone now.
"You were right. The bed you were sleeping on was the bed I used to fuck other people who were not you. And God, I enjoyed it so much." She smirked, her silly teeth defining the contours of her pink plump lips.
He felt his nerves tensing, but he couldn't react. Why should he give a damn about it? Why was she saying that to hurt him? And most of all, why did he feel the urge to kill someone?
Millie was not over it.
"Yeah. Random people had what you couldn't have. It hurts, doesn't it? That this," She outlined her hips til her thighs, "was never ever yours!"
Coldly, his curls caressed his dark stare, as he answered, "You're overestimating your appeal."
"I know how you look at me. I know how you always looked at me. I know how bad you wanted me. But guess what, Finn Wolfhard." She fiercely looked up to him, clenching her tiny hand around his chin so that he could stare down at her, "You will never be my type."
His face leaned in, his lips were almost brushing on her soft ones. She felt her wrists shaking, electricity running through her as he is unashamedly coming closer to her face. He's there, in all of his glory; curls, lips, freckles, sharp jawline. Their air mixed, the space dividing their mouths almost coming to an end.
But he immediately stopped himself, slapping away that insolent touch and rolling out of his tongue his darkest side, "Lying whores are not my type."
The final insult is the one that makes her understand that Millie is done with him. He hates him now, completely; the tiny gesture of him looking for her all day and rescue her doesn't mean a thing anymore. The thing he said, that he was worried for her, it didn't matter either.
They were two strangers. Strangers who would work together for the sake of money, business and they career.
Nothing more.
She walked back to the door, clenching tight to the golden handle and looking down at her feet, "Out of my house."
"Didn't you want me to stay? Already changed your mind?" He teased her, even if he is truly not willing to spend a night in there anymore.
Her lips trembled, as she tried to hold back her angry sobs and tears, "Please— please. Go away."
He shouldered her while getting out of the penthouse, but his feet stopped right in the edge on the door. Without looking at her, he decided to say on last thing before going and never coming back.
"You had someone who loved you, Millie. You truly had and you destroyed him," He admitted, shutting his eyes.
He started to walk away, but Millie caught what he said next.
"Think about it before you sleep alone in a cold bed for the rest of your life."
—
Ha ha ha ha iknowyouhateme ha ha ha ha
Anyways! This was intense and satisfying to write! How you enjoyed the turbulent ride. Now you finally know why Finn was angry w Millie. Not only she rejected him but also told him she loved him back when she didn't~ but we will see more flashbacks through the story, just to give you an idea of their relationship.
Hope you liked it!
See you soon when I'm free again, baby dolls! 💗💗
Ps. even if it's not an happy chap, I dedicate this to Maki. ❤️ It's her birthday and I know how much supportive and patient she is with me, especially when I'm insecure about my writing! I love you bub <3 happy birthday again my love 💗💗💗