It's not the first time Abby's asked her this, and she didn't have the answer back then either. She falls to silence, still walking with her, hands in her pockets, her hair brushing the back of her neck.
Something crazy occurs to her, but then she can't. Shake it.
Abby snorts, even though nothing about this is funny.
"I dunno."
Her relationship with Ellie is unlike any friendship she's ever had before and, honestly, she wouldn't call it being friends. At the same time, it isn't nothing. They hang out. Have conversations, even about things that are hard. Ellie used to be so frustratingly opaque but now Abby knows things about her, what she reads, where she goes during the day, songs that are stuck in her head. Abby has laughed at her dumb jokes. She can't slap a label on it any more than she could explain why she'd be so upset if she ever lost this.
She hates the way she sounds when she asks, "Do you want to be friends?" Halting, awkward. Vulnerable.
Ellie's skin prickles, but despite the strange vulnerability of it, it does feel like she and Abby are standing there together. In this weird, impossible situation together. She is from home. Despite all the pain they've inflicting on each other, in another life, in another world, they probably would have been friends.
Abby nods, holding her own reply in her mouth for a moment. She feels uncomfortable but not in a bad way, just off-balance and working to keep herself from tripping. It's not bad to do work like this. She thinks she's getting good at it, existing in discomfort and letting things between them both be strange. Letting strange things slowly become good.
"Same."
Now she looks, guessing at Ellie's reaction. "We could try it."
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It's not the first time Abby's asked her this, and she didn't have the answer back then either. She falls to silence, still walking with her, hands in her pockets, her hair brushing the back of her neck.
Something crazy occurs to her, but then she can't. Shake it.
"... Abby? Are we friends?"
no subject
"I dunno."
Her relationship with Ellie is unlike any friendship she's ever had before and, honestly, she wouldn't call it being friends. At the same time, it isn't nothing. They hang out. Have conversations, even about things that are hard. Ellie used to be so frustratingly opaque but now Abby knows things about her, what she reads, where she goes during the day, songs that are stuck in her head. Abby has laughed at her dumb jokes. She can't slap a label on it any more than she could explain why she'd be so upset if she ever lost this.
She hates the way she sounds when she asks, "Do you want to be friends?" Halting, awkward. Vulnerable.
no subject
Here they are. In another life, in another world.
"... yeah, I think so."
no subject
"Same."
Now she looks, guessing at Ellie's reaction. "We could try it."
See what happens.