A Thousand Words -- Congratulations
Aug. 23rd, 2011 06:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: *grins* I wrote yuri. Well, the original equivalent anyway. This is SFW, though, never fear. This is also unbeta'ed, so do be wary of the grammar mistakes. I tried to catch them; I may have missed some.
Rating: T
Warning: angst, one-sided feelings, F/F pairing, language
Pairing: Hannah and Kinsley
Description: Kinsley will never know how much Hannah loves her.
Inspired by a song of the same title by Blue October.
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A Thousand Words
Snapshot Eight - Congratulations
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“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...”
The priest recites words that any woman has heard countless times: in books, in movies, in cartoons and commercials. Hannah can practically quote them herself, and even without listening to them, her lips move in perfect concert with the officiate.
Her eyes wander to the happy couple: Kinsley in her beautiful white dress and Jordan resplendent in his black tuxedo.
Hannah can't imagine a more perfect pairing, a wonderful contrast of human beings.
She lets her gaze wander to a safer course, that of the décor. Kinsley has great taste and it shows in the wonderful mix of pale blues and soft shades of non-iridescent silver. The cathedral has been draped in gossamer strands interwoven with live flowers, the costliest decoration for the wedding.
Kinsley had insisted upon it. She loves flowers, loves their color and scent and smell. She has her favorites of course, none more bright and cheerful than the iris, but Kinsley just loves flowers in general. Always has, always will. Hannah supposes it's a good thing that Kinsley was able to get that degree in Botany and move on to study plants at the university they had attended for four years together.
Hannah's own degree in Journalism isn't doing so hot, but she doesn't even have the economy to blame for that. No, just an idiot's drunken recklessness.
“... to join Jordan Arlington and Kinsley McCabe in holy matrimony...”
Kinsley's maid of honor wipes delicately at the corner of her eyes, overly emotional in the face of the wedding. Hannah's not surprised. Kinsley's cousin has always been a drama queen and she won't miss a chance to show up anyone, not even the beautiful bride.
Hannah's eyes drift back toward Kinsley, half-surprised she was able to look away in the first place. Kinsley looks absolutely stunning, her auburn hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, the veil pouring down her back like translucent silk.
Hannah had been the one to help her pick out the wedding dress. She knew from the moment she spotted the off-shoulder gown with it's small rose embellishments and modest flare that it would be perfect for Kinsley, and she was right. The cream-color of the dress is even better than virginal white, a great contrast to Kinsley's naturally pale skin. It makes her eyes – a vivid blue – almost glow. Or maybe that's the happiness.
She's absolutely beautiful and Hannah feels that clench in her chest all over again. Kinsley is gorgeous and wonderful and she's getting married to Jordan. She's in love with him, has been for the past three years, and that's not going to change. She'll never know that Hannah's been here all along, with love in her heart and the cowardice to never speak it.
Kinsley will never know how much Hannah really loves her.
“If any person can show just cause as to why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Hannah's fingers tighten around the head of her cane. That should be her up there, just to Kinsley's right, bedecked in pale blue, the maid of honor. That was her, up until a year ago, the car accident, and the injuries that left her leg a shattered mess. The doctors were convinced she'd never walk again, but Hannah proved them wrong. She can totter, she can limp, with a cane she's even faster. But she can't stand for more than ten minutes. Not anymore.
Kinsley offered to bring a chair up to the altar, to let Hannah sit so she can still take part in the ceremony. But this is Kinsley's special day, her moment to shine. Hannah's not about to overshadow it by being the pitiful crippled girl in the chair.
She's the perfect friend, the closest companion, the best almost-a-sister that Hannah's ever had. Kinsley stuck by her side through physical therapy and increasingly bad news. Through fighting with insurance companies to pay her bills, and struggling to make ends meet. Through the drunken bastard's trial where he only received two years, sure to get it out in less than half that.
Kinsley brought Hannah dinner and kept her company those long nights when combinations of medication made Hannah restless and wrought with insomnia. They played games and reminisced over high school, and Kinsley gushed about Jordan and Hannah smiled happily, nodding in encouragement. She endured Kinsley assuring her that she'd meet someone, someone special who'd treat her like a princess too.
They've laughed and cried and celebrated together. Always together. Kinsley likes to say that they'll be together forever.
“ Jordan and Kinsley today you choose each other before your family and friends, to begin your life together. For all the tomorrows that follow, you will choose each other over and again, in the privacy of your hearts...”
Hannah chews on her bottom lip. Kinsley's always been the optimist like that. Believing that Hannah could walk when the doctors said it was impossible and even Hannah had given up on herself. She believes in true love and everlasting love and that the world can be a good place, even when it's gone to shit.
Sometimes, Hannah wonders if she loves Kinsley too much. If maybe, she can't even see Kinsley's faults for that shade of rose. She supposes she'll never know for sure.
She can't look at Kinsley anymore and just see a woman. All she sees is the woman she loves, the woman she'll never have, the woman she'll always treasure. She sees her best friend since childhood. They're so close that they share families. Kinsley's mother is Mom to Hannah and vice versa. They're so close that as teenagers, their stuff was intermingled, from one house to the next. They wear the same size, like the same things, and if not for the striking difference in hair and eye color, people would have thought them twins.
Two peas in a pod, as Hannah's mother had always said. Always causing mischief, always together, the only relationship from childhood that Hannah's had to last. She treasures it, knows that Kinsley's does too.
But for Hannah, it hadn't started being more, meaning more, until college, when she realized that her love for Kinsley was growing. That she suddenly wanted things that went beyond friendship. When their hugs made her heart race and her panties grow damp. When she wanted to find out how Kinsley tasted and smelled, when she wanted to see Kinsley openly bare to her, drag her tongue over miles of pale skin and make her moan.
“Let your love and friendship guide you, as you learn and grow together. Experience the wonders of the world, even as patience and wisdom calm the restless nature. Through your partnership, triumph over the challenges in your path. Through the comfort of loving arms, may you always find a safe place to call home."
It had frightened Hannah at first. She had never thought of herself as a lesbian before. She didn't have anything against them-- to each her own – but she had never thought such a label would apply to her. And it wasn't other women either, nor did Hannah suddenly lose her interest in men. It was just Kinsley, always just Kinsley.
She thought it was a phase at first. She thought she was confusing a deep friendship of years, and a sisterly lover for something else. She thought it was because she had been single for so long that she was merely clinging to the closest thing.
Hannah dated Trevor for almost two years. He was close to proposing, while she danced with her fears, unwilling to marry him, but unwilling to leave him for fear of the truth it would reveal. Two years with Trevor at her side and her eyes still always found Kinsley in a crowd. She always chose Kinsley over Trevor in any situation. She still dreamed of what Kinsley must have sounded like in the throes of ecstasy, and still longed for every touch, no matter how casual.
Trevor asked her to marry him; Hannah said no. She apologized, and the relationship was doomed from there. No man wanted to stay with a woman who had rejected him once. And Hannah hated herself for not mourning Trevor's exit from her life. She realized how very little of him had managed to affect her. The amount of items he kept in her apartment barely filled a shoebox, whereas Kinsley's belongings could have had their own room.
The difference was a revelation, one that Hannah hated as much as it relieved her. It wasn't just a mistake or infatuation or misplaced affection. She well and truly wanted her best friend. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was something she could never, ever reveal.
Ironically, three months after Trevor left, Kinsley met Jordan. Hannah suffered through a few more meaningless flings, but she didn't let herself get attached. It didn't seem fair to the person who thought they would have a future.
She tried dating women, wanting to see if maybe it was because she was a lesbian after all. She did some research, figured out which bars or clubs catered to a lesbian clientele, and worked up the nerves to visit one. She went alone, knowing she couldn't ask Kinsley to accompany her, and chewed her fingernails while hovering by the bar, drinking glass after glass of liquid courage.
They were so friendly, easily making Hannah at ease. And when a woman with black curls and big dark eyes introduced herself, Hannah gave her name right back. She looked nothing like Kinsley, but wasn't that the point? Her name was Sharon, and she wasn't even offended when Hannah confessed her reason for being there.
In the end, however, there were no sparks. Kissing Sharon ignited nothing within Hannah. It gave her a squirming disquiet in her belly and a sense of wrongness. It wasn't women she wanted, it was one woman. It was Kinsley. No one else would do.
“I, Kinsley, take you, Jordan, to be my partner, loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know. I eagerly anticipate the chance to grow together, getting to know the man you will become, and falling in love a little more each day. I promise to love and cherish you through whatever life may bring us.”
Three months later, Jordan proposed and Hannah resigned herself to her cowardice. If there had been a chance to tell Kinsley the truth of her feelings, it had long since passed. There was no way she'd put a rift in their relationship – Kinsley meant too much to her. Nor woul she put the burden of her feelings on Kinsley's shoulders.
Hannah buried the truth deep down inside, smiled when appropriate, and accompanied Kinsley to every wedding-related stop. She was there to help pick out the wedding dress and the flowers, she taste-tested the cake and encouraged Kinsley to go for Red Velvet. She pointed out the best cake topper of the bunch and they laughed as they scanned item after item for the registry.
She was driving home from checking out the church with Kinsley – her second best choice from the wedding – when it happened. The light turned green, Hannah headed forward, and the SUV careened out of nowhere. It barreled through a red light and Hannah saw nothing but an impression of headlights from the corner of her eye before it slammed into her tiny Saturn.
Her car went flying, pinballing between the SUV and a telephone pole.
Even now, Hannah can't forget.
She remembers screaming, the explosion of the air bag, the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal. She remembers her body being tossed this way and that, but constrained by the seat belt. She remembers the piercing pain of a jagged piece of metal ripping into her body. She remembers bleeding and passing out.
She remembers waking, days later, to the sight of Kinsley's crying face, and the feel of Kinsley's hands tightly gripping her own. Hannah remembers how warm Kinsley's hands had been, and how beautiful she had looked, even with red-rimmed eyes and a snotty nose from so much crying.
“Crybaby,” Hannah had accused teasingly, a joke from their childhood, her voice hoarse and raw from disuse. “I'm fine.”
Kinsley had sniffled, glaring at her through tear-sheened eyes. “Idiot. I thought you were going to die. We all did.”
The thought of her death had been enough to make Kinsley weep. That little fact made Hanah's heart beat a wild rhythm, made her swallow thickly. And maybe it was the drugs or the lingering pain or the relief of being alive, but Hannah had decided then and there to tell Kinsley, no matter what might happen. She worked the words out in her mind, squeezed Kinsley's hand to get her attention, opened her mouth--
The door opened and Jordan strode inside, carrying a huge vase of get well flowers and balloons for Hannah. He smiled, genuinely relieved that Hannah had woken. He kissed Kinsley on the top of her head before setting the flowers by Hannah's bed, arranging them so her favorite sunflowers were in immediate view.
The words died in Hannah's throat.
She never considered speaking them again.
“With this ring, I thee wed.”
Hannah's proud for Kinsley, she really is. Jordan's a great guy. Smart, funny, talented – he cares for her more than anyone else. He'll make a good husband, a good best friend, and someday, even a good father. Children is one thing Hannah can not give Kinsley, the one thing that Kinsley wants more than anything. Her whole life, she's wanted to be a mother. It's in her heart.
Jordan is as close to perfection as a man can get, and Kinsley deserves that, deserves him. Hannah's proud that Kinsley has captured that happiness. She's proud that someone else can make Kinsley smile, can make her laugh. She's as proud as she is jealous, but she never let that interfere, not even when Jordan called her, wanting her opinion on the ring.
Should he go with white gold or yellow gold or silver? Should it have a string of diamonds, or one large solitaire? Should the band be thick or thin, should it be tied up in knots? What would make Kinsley smile? What would be perfect?
He was so nervous, so determined that everything be absolutely right that Hannah thought it endearing. She gladly looked through sales guides whenever Kinsley wasn't around to sneak a peek. She spent hours making sure that the perfect ring had been chosen, unable to shake the fantasies that Kinsley would be wearing her ring. Jordan would wed her, but it was a ring that Hannah had helped pick out.
It was the closest she would get to making Kinsley hers.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Hannah watches as they lean toward each other, smiling, exchanging a kiss that's as chaste as it is daring. A press of lips, a quick slide of tongues, Kinsley's veil still falling down her back like a silk river. Jordan is beaming, and the maid of honor giggles. Flashes of light from cameras nearly blind the happy couple. It's a Kodak moment, something to seal in your memory.
Hannah knows she'll never forget. It's the moment she officially lost all chances, when her cowardice takes precedence. Perhaps it's better that way.
Though if Jordan ever hurts her, he will have to die. There's no question about it. Hannah may be crippled, but that won't stop her. There will be nowhere for him to run. Coward she may be, but she won't allow anyone to hurt Kinsley and get away with it.
“Family and friends, I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan Arlington.”
Clapping and cheering fills the great hall and she forces herself to join in, jerkily climbing to her feet with a heated glare at her cane. She needs it to walk but she'll be damned if she uses it just to stand.
The bride and groom are blushing twins of happiness, fingers interlocked, Kinsley's smile bright enough to light the world. Jordan's eyes gleam with love as he squeezes her fingers and shoots his parents a pleased grin. The perfect matched pair, they are.
Hannah forces a smile onto her lips – it's easy enough, she's had enough practice over the past couple years. She pretends to be happy, even as her insides turn to ice. She knows that it would be noble of her to be happy for Kinsley, but all she can manage is green-eyed jealousy of Jordan.
The church organ starts playing, a victorious, jaunting melody that bounces along the elegant rafters. Kinsley jitters on her feet, insanely happy, ready to walk back down the aisle hand in hand with her new husband. A car is waiting for them just outside the massive double doors, a pretty banner hanging from the Bentley's trunk.
Together, Kinsley and Jordan walk down the aisle between two sets of family and friends, their first steps together as a married couple. Hannah watches them, swallowing over a lump in her throat, clapping quietly.
Blue eyes, the same shade as a pale waterglass, shift Hannah's direction, and that's when Kinsley kicks tradition on its hindquarters. She stops in the midst of the aisle, pausing at the end of the row where Hannah had taken a seat. She's smiling, and tears are glistening in the corner of her eyes. Jordan looks confused, until his eyes flicker to Hannah and understanding makes him incline his head.
He's met Hannah before, knows exactly what Hannah means to Kinsley. He'd supported Kinsley's decision to bring a chair into the ceremony, had even tried to convince Hannah to accept Kinsley's offer.
He'll never know how much Hannah loves his wife either.
Hannah has less than a minute to wonder what Kinsley is thinking before Kinsley pulls her into a warm embrace, the scratchiness of her lace dress rubbing against Hannah's bare arms and collarbone. Kinsley smells of apricot and vanilla, of warm things and happiness, and Hannah's arms briefly tighten around her best friend. She doesn't want to let go.
Luckily, such actions can merely be taken as a best friend's celebratory embrace. No one notices or comments if it lasts longer than a minute, as Kinsley holds her tight, sways them from side to side. She murmurs into Hannah's ears, her voice a soft lilt that tightens the vise in Hannah's chest all the tighter.
“I love you, sister,” Kinsley murmurs, and sniffles back a tear. “Thank you for being here.”
As if Hannah would miss it. She doesn't care that her bones ache and her leg is throbbing and her head is starting to pound from grinding her teeth. She had to be here, see for herself, let the knife twist as deep as possible. It's the only way to heal, to move on, or so Hannah keeps telling herself anyway.
“I'll always be there for you,” Hannah says in return, and the truth tastes bitter on her tongue. “I love you.”
Kinsley pulls back, with a smile, her hands on Hannah's shoulders, a gentle reassuring squeeze. Never knowing, never understanding that her love and Hannah's love are two entirely different things.
“Have fun on your honeymoon,” Hannah says, and forces a teasing grin to her lips, a pointed look at the ever-patient Jordan. “Make him a man, yeah?”
Kinsley laughs, squeezing her shoulders again before letting her hands drop. “Of course,” she says. “We'll catch up when I get back, okay?”
Nodding, Hannah folds her arms behind her back, so Kinsley can't see her hands clenching. “Goodbye, Kinsley.”
Jordan gives Kinsley a gentle tug as the organ swells in the background, trying to encourage bride and groom to complete their first walk as a couple. Kinsley is all sparkles and smiles, happiness and light. Convinced that after her honeymoon, she can call Hannah and gush about the details. Fawn over the honeymoon suite and the delicious food and the stunning view and the room service and Jordan...
She has no clue that Hannah's goodbye is really just that. A farewell, so long, goodnight, goodbye.
Kinsley turns, hooks her arm with Jordan's, and together they continue down the aisle. Flowers and streamers and ribbons and confetti are thrown over the jubilant couple, painting the air in a kaleidoscope of colors.
Hannah feels the tears trickle down her cheeks, a slow slide of sorrow that drips from her chin to the floor. Everyone looks at her sympathetically, wiping their own eyes, certain that she is crying from happiness. From the beautiful wedding and the chance to see such a happy couple make the perfect commitment to each other.
None of them know the real reason that Hannah cries. Not because she is happy that her best friend is walking out the door with the man of her dreams. But because she's just said goodbye to her best friend and the only human being she's ever loved in thirty years. A love that will never see fruition.
She's crying, because what's left of her heart has broken to pieces, and no one will ever know why.
* * *
a/n: It's another angsty one. But don't worry, the next one isn't angsty at all! There may or may not be a sequel to this. Hannah deserves some happiness, damn it.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Rating: T
Warning: angst, one-sided feelings, F/F pairing, language
Pairing: Hannah and Kinsley
Description: Kinsley will never know how much Hannah loves her.
Inspired by a song of the same title by Blue October.
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A Thousand Words
Snapshot Eight - Congratulations
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“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...”
The priest recites words that any woman has heard countless times: in books, in movies, in cartoons and commercials. Hannah can practically quote them herself, and even without listening to them, her lips move in perfect concert with the officiate.
Her eyes wander to the happy couple: Kinsley in her beautiful white dress and Jordan resplendent in his black tuxedo.
Hannah can't imagine a more perfect pairing, a wonderful contrast of human beings.
She lets her gaze wander to a safer course, that of the décor. Kinsley has great taste and it shows in the wonderful mix of pale blues and soft shades of non-iridescent silver. The cathedral has been draped in gossamer strands interwoven with live flowers, the costliest decoration for the wedding.
Kinsley had insisted upon it. She loves flowers, loves their color and scent and smell. She has her favorites of course, none more bright and cheerful than the iris, but Kinsley just loves flowers in general. Always has, always will. Hannah supposes it's a good thing that Kinsley was able to get that degree in Botany and move on to study plants at the university they had attended for four years together.
Hannah's own degree in Journalism isn't doing so hot, but she doesn't even have the economy to blame for that. No, just an idiot's drunken recklessness.
“... to join Jordan Arlington and Kinsley McCabe in holy matrimony...”
Kinsley's maid of honor wipes delicately at the corner of her eyes, overly emotional in the face of the wedding. Hannah's not surprised. Kinsley's cousin has always been a drama queen and she won't miss a chance to show up anyone, not even the beautiful bride.
Hannah's eyes drift back toward Kinsley, half-surprised she was able to look away in the first place. Kinsley looks absolutely stunning, her auburn hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, the veil pouring down her back like translucent silk.
Hannah had been the one to help her pick out the wedding dress. She knew from the moment she spotted the off-shoulder gown with it's small rose embellishments and modest flare that it would be perfect for Kinsley, and she was right. The cream-color of the dress is even better than virginal white, a great contrast to Kinsley's naturally pale skin. It makes her eyes – a vivid blue – almost glow. Or maybe that's the happiness.
She's absolutely beautiful and Hannah feels that clench in her chest all over again. Kinsley is gorgeous and wonderful and she's getting married to Jordan. She's in love with him, has been for the past three years, and that's not going to change. She'll never know that Hannah's been here all along, with love in her heart and the cowardice to never speak it.
Kinsley will never know how much Hannah really loves her.
“If any person can show just cause as to why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Hannah's fingers tighten around the head of her cane. That should be her up there, just to Kinsley's right, bedecked in pale blue, the maid of honor. That was her, up until a year ago, the car accident, and the injuries that left her leg a shattered mess. The doctors were convinced she'd never walk again, but Hannah proved them wrong. She can totter, she can limp, with a cane she's even faster. But she can't stand for more than ten minutes. Not anymore.
Kinsley offered to bring a chair up to the altar, to let Hannah sit so she can still take part in the ceremony. But this is Kinsley's special day, her moment to shine. Hannah's not about to overshadow it by being the pitiful crippled girl in the chair.
She's the perfect friend, the closest companion, the best almost-a-sister that Hannah's ever had. Kinsley stuck by her side through physical therapy and increasingly bad news. Through fighting with insurance companies to pay her bills, and struggling to make ends meet. Through the drunken bastard's trial where he only received two years, sure to get it out in less than half that.
Kinsley brought Hannah dinner and kept her company those long nights when combinations of medication made Hannah restless and wrought with insomnia. They played games and reminisced over high school, and Kinsley gushed about Jordan and Hannah smiled happily, nodding in encouragement. She endured Kinsley assuring her that she'd meet someone, someone special who'd treat her like a princess too.
They've laughed and cried and celebrated together. Always together. Kinsley likes to say that they'll be together forever.
“ Jordan and Kinsley today you choose each other before your family and friends, to begin your life together. For all the tomorrows that follow, you will choose each other over and again, in the privacy of your hearts...”
Hannah chews on her bottom lip. Kinsley's always been the optimist like that. Believing that Hannah could walk when the doctors said it was impossible and even Hannah had given up on herself. She believes in true love and everlasting love and that the world can be a good place, even when it's gone to shit.
Sometimes, Hannah wonders if she loves Kinsley too much. If maybe, she can't even see Kinsley's faults for that shade of rose. She supposes she'll never know for sure.
She can't look at Kinsley anymore and just see a woman. All she sees is the woman she loves, the woman she'll never have, the woman she'll always treasure. She sees her best friend since childhood. They're so close that they share families. Kinsley's mother is Mom to Hannah and vice versa. They're so close that as teenagers, their stuff was intermingled, from one house to the next. They wear the same size, like the same things, and if not for the striking difference in hair and eye color, people would have thought them twins.
Two peas in a pod, as Hannah's mother had always said. Always causing mischief, always together, the only relationship from childhood that Hannah's had to last. She treasures it, knows that Kinsley's does too.
But for Hannah, it hadn't started being more, meaning more, until college, when she realized that her love for Kinsley was growing. That she suddenly wanted things that went beyond friendship. When their hugs made her heart race and her panties grow damp. When she wanted to find out how Kinsley tasted and smelled, when she wanted to see Kinsley openly bare to her, drag her tongue over miles of pale skin and make her moan.
“Let your love and friendship guide you, as you learn and grow together. Experience the wonders of the world, even as patience and wisdom calm the restless nature. Through your partnership, triumph over the challenges in your path. Through the comfort of loving arms, may you always find a safe place to call home."
It had frightened Hannah at first. She had never thought of herself as a lesbian before. She didn't have anything against them-- to each her own – but she had never thought such a label would apply to her. And it wasn't other women either, nor did Hannah suddenly lose her interest in men. It was just Kinsley, always just Kinsley.
She thought it was a phase at first. She thought she was confusing a deep friendship of years, and a sisterly lover for something else. She thought it was because she had been single for so long that she was merely clinging to the closest thing.
Hannah dated Trevor for almost two years. He was close to proposing, while she danced with her fears, unwilling to marry him, but unwilling to leave him for fear of the truth it would reveal. Two years with Trevor at her side and her eyes still always found Kinsley in a crowd. She always chose Kinsley over Trevor in any situation. She still dreamed of what Kinsley must have sounded like in the throes of ecstasy, and still longed for every touch, no matter how casual.
Trevor asked her to marry him; Hannah said no. She apologized, and the relationship was doomed from there. No man wanted to stay with a woman who had rejected him once. And Hannah hated herself for not mourning Trevor's exit from her life. She realized how very little of him had managed to affect her. The amount of items he kept in her apartment barely filled a shoebox, whereas Kinsley's belongings could have had their own room.
The difference was a revelation, one that Hannah hated as much as it relieved her. It wasn't just a mistake or infatuation or misplaced affection. She well and truly wanted her best friend. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was something she could never, ever reveal.
Ironically, three months after Trevor left, Kinsley met Jordan. Hannah suffered through a few more meaningless flings, but she didn't let herself get attached. It didn't seem fair to the person who thought they would have a future.
She tried dating women, wanting to see if maybe it was because she was a lesbian after all. She did some research, figured out which bars or clubs catered to a lesbian clientele, and worked up the nerves to visit one. She went alone, knowing she couldn't ask Kinsley to accompany her, and chewed her fingernails while hovering by the bar, drinking glass after glass of liquid courage.
They were so friendly, easily making Hannah at ease. And when a woman with black curls and big dark eyes introduced herself, Hannah gave her name right back. She looked nothing like Kinsley, but wasn't that the point? Her name was Sharon, and she wasn't even offended when Hannah confessed her reason for being there.
In the end, however, there were no sparks. Kissing Sharon ignited nothing within Hannah. It gave her a squirming disquiet in her belly and a sense of wrongness. It wasn't women she wanted, it was one woman. It was Kinsley. No one else would do.
“I, Kinsley, take you, Jordan, to be my partner, loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know. I eagerly anticipate the chance to grow together, getting to know the man you will become, and falling in love a little more each day. I promise to love and cherish you through whatever life may bring us.”
Three months later, Jordan proposed and Hannah resigned herself to her cowardice. If there had been a chance to tell Kinsley the truth of her feelings, it had long since passed. There was no way she'd put a rift in their relationship – Kinsley meant too much to her. Nor woul she put the burden of her feelings on Kinsley's shoulders.
Hannah buried the truth deep down inside, smiled when appropriate, and accompanied Kinsley to every wedding-related stop. She was there to help pick out the wedding dress and the flowers, she taste-tested the cake and encouraged Kinsley to go for Red Velvet. She pointed out the best cake topper of the bunch and they laughed as they scanned item after item for the registry.
She was driving home from checking out the church with Kinsley – her second best choice from the wedding – when it happened. The light turned green, Hannah headed forward, and the SUV careened out of nowhere. It barreled through a red light and Hannah saw nothing but an impression of headlights from the corner of her eye before it slammed into her tiny Saturn.
Her car went flying, pinballing between the SUV and a telephone pole.
Even now, Hannah can't forget.
She remembers screaming, the explosion of the air bag, the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal. She remembers her body being tossed this way and that, but constrained by the seat belt. She remembers the piercing pain of a jagged piece of metal ripping into her body. She remembers bleeding and passing out.
She remembers waking, days later, to the sight of Kinsley's crying face, and the feel of Kinsley's hands tightly gripping her own. Hannah remembers how warm Kinsley's hands had been, and how beautiful she had looked, even with red-rimmed eyes and a snotty nose from so much crying.
“Crybaby,” Hannah had accused teasingly, a joke from their childhood, her voice hoarse and raw from disuse. “I'm fine.”
Kinsley had sniffled, glaring at her through tear-sheened eyes. “Idiot. I thought you were going to die. We all did.”
The thought of her death had been enough to make Kinsley weep. That little fact made Hanah's heart beat a wild rhythm, made her swallow thickly. And maybe it was the drugs or the lingering pain or the relief of being alive, but Hannah had decided then and there to tell Kinsley, no matter what might happen. She worked the words out in her mind, squeezed Kinsley's hand to get her attention, opened her mouth--
The door opened and Jordan strode inside, carrying a huge vase of get well flowers and balloons for Hannah. He smiled, genuinely relieved that Hannah had woken. He kissed Kinsley on the top of her head before setting the flowers by Hannah's bed, arranging them so her favorite sunflowers were in immediate view.
The words died in Hannah's throat.
She never considered speaking them again.
“With this ring, I thee wed.”
Hannah's proud for Kinsley, she really is. Jordan's a great guy. Smart, funny, talented – he cares for her more than anyone else. He'll make a good husband, a good best friend, and someday, even a good father. Children is one thing Hannah can not give Kinsley, the one thing that Kinsley wants more than anything. Her whole life, she's wanted to be a mother. It's in her heart.
Jordan is as close to perfection as a man can get, and Kinsley deserves that, deserves him. Hannah's proud that Kinsley has captured that happiness. She's proud that someone else can make Kinsley smile, can make her laugh. She's as proud as she is jealous, but she never let that interfere, not even when Jordan called her, wanting her opinion on the ring.
Should he go with white gold or yellow gold or silver? Should it have a string of diamonds, or one large solitaire? Should the band be thick or thin, should it be tied up in knots? What would make Kinsley smile? What would be perfect?
He was so nervous, so determined that everything be absolutely right that Hannah thought it endearing. She gladly looked through sales guides whenever Kinsley wasn't around to sneak a peek. She spent hours making sure that the perfect ring had been chosen, unable to shake the fantasies that Kinsley would be wearing her ring. Jordan would wed her, but it was a ring that Hannah had helped pick out.
It was the closest she would get to making Kinsley hers.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Hannah watches as they lean toward each other, smiling, exchanging a kiss that's as chaste as it is daring. A press of lips, a quick slide of tongues, Kinsley's veil still falling down her back like a silk river. Jordan is beaming, and the maid of honor giggles. Flashes of light from cameras nearly blind the happy couple. It's a Kodak moment, something to seal in your memory.
Hannah knows she'll never forget. It's the moment she officially lost all chances, when her cowardice takes precedence. Perhaps it's better that way.
Though if Jordan ever hurts her, he will have to die. There's no question about it. Hannah may be crippled, but that won't stop her. There will be nowhere for him to run. Coward she may be, but she won't allow anyone to hurt Kinsley and get away with it.
“Family and friends, I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan Arlington.”
Clapping and cheering fills the great hall and she forces herself to join in, jerkily climbing to her feet with a heated glare at her cane. She needs it to walk but she'll be damned if she uses it just to stand.
The bride and groom are blushing twins of happiness, fingers interlocked, Kinsley's smile bright enough to light the world. Jordan's eyes gleam with love as he squeezes her fingers and shoots his parents a pleased grin. The perfect matched pair, they are.
Hannah forces a smile onto her lips – it's easy enough, she's had enough practice over the past couple years. She pretends to be happy, even as her insides turn to ice. She knows that it would be noble of her to be happy for Kinsley, but all she can manage is green-eyed jealousy of Jordan.
The church organ starts playing, a victorious, jaunting melody that bounces along the elegant rafters. Kinsley jitters on her feet, insanely happy, ready to walk back down the aisle hand in hand with her new husband. A car is waiting for them just outside the massive double doors, a pretty banner hanging from the Bentley's trunk.
Together, Kinsley and Jordan walk down the aisle between two sets of family and friends, their first steps together as a married couple. Hannah watches them, swallowing over a lump in her throat, clapping quietly.
Blue eyes, the same shade as a pale waterglass, shift Hannah's direction, and that's when Kinsley kicks tradition on its hindquarters. She stops in the midst of the aisle, pausing at the end of the row where Hannah had taken a seat. She's smiling, and tears are glistening in the corner of her eyes. Jordan looks confused, until his eyes flicker to Hannah and understanding makes him incline his head.
He's met Hannah before, knows exactly what Hannah means to Kinsley. He'd supported Kinsley's decision to bring a chair into the ceremony, had even tried to convince Hannah to accept Kinsley's offer.
He'll never know how much Hannah loves his wife either.
Hannah has less than a minute to wonder what Kinsley is thinking before Kinsley pulls her into a warm embrace, the scratchiness of her lace dress rubbing against Hannah's bare arms and collarbone. Kinsley smells of apricot and vanilla, of warm things and happiness, and Hannah's arms briefly tighten around her best friend. She doesn't want to let go.
Luckily, such actions can merely be taken as a best friend's celebratory embrace. No one notices or comments if it lasts longer than a minute, as Kinsley holds her tight, sways them from side to side. She murmurs into Hannah's ears, her voice a soft lilt that tightens the vise in Hannah's chest all the tighter.
“I love you, sister,” Kinsley murmurs, and sniffles back a tear. “Thank you for being here.”
As if Hannah would miss it. She doesn't care that her bones ache and her leg is throbbing and her head is starting to pound from grinding her teeth. She had to be here, see for herself, let the knife twist as deep as possible. It's the only way to heal, to move on, or so Hannah keeps telling herself anyway.
“I'll always be there for you,” Hannah says in return, and the truth tastes bitter on her tongue. “I love you.”
Kinsley pulls back, with a smile, her hands on Hannah's shoulders, a gentle reassuring squeeze. Never knowing, never understanding that her love and Hannah's love are two entirely different things.
“Have fun on your honeymoon,” Hannah says, and forces a teasing grin to her lips, a pointed look at the ever-patient Jordan. “Make him a man, yeah?”
Kinsley laughs, squeezing her shoulders again before letting her hands drop. “Of course,” she says. “We'll catch up when I get back, okay?”
Nodding, Hannah folds her arms behind her back, so Kinsley can't see her hands clenching. “Goodbye, Kinsley.”
Jordan gives Kinsley a gentle tug as the organ swells in the background, trying to encourage bride and groom to complete their first walk as a couple. Kinsley is all sparkles and smiles, happiness and light. Convinced that after her honeymoon, she can call Hannah and gush about the details. Fawn over the honeymoon suite and the delicious food and the stunning view and the room service and Jordan...
She has no clue that Hannah's goodbye is really just that. A farewell, so long, goodnight, goodbye.
Kinsley turns, hooks her arm with Jordan's, and together they continue down the aisle. Flowers and streamers and ribbons and confetti are thrown over the jubilant couple, painting the air in a kaleidoscope of colors.
Hannah feels the tears trickle down her cheeks, a slow slide of sorrow that drips from her chin to the floor. Everyone looks at her sympathetically, wiping their own eyes, certain that she is crying from happiness. From the beautiful wedding and the chance to see such a happy couple make the perfect commitment to each other.
None of them know the real reason that Hannah cries. Not because she is happy that her best friend is walking out the door with the man of her dreams. But because she's just said goodbye to her best friend and the only human being she's ever loved in thirty years. A love that will never see fruition.
She's crying, because what's left of her heart has broken to pieces, and no one will ever know why.
a/n: It's another angsty one. But don't worry, the next one isn't angsty at all! There may or may not be a sequel to this. Hannah deserves some happiness, damn it.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated.
