Every day felt more and more difficult when it came to Wylie’s feelings. It had been ten years, and each of those years passed by successfully ignoring everything she felt, but it was different now. It’d been a month since she felt that inkling of a shift in Laurie, had seen that familiar sparkle in his eyes that she had memorized when she was fourteen. The blonde had always assumed it was because he was so playful, so passionate and set in his ways, so playful that it couldn’t be helped. But that day, she could’ve sworn it was just for her, the way that he looked at her making her heart practically stop and goosebumps prickling at her skin. It had gotten to the point where she was having a hard time pretending that her feelings for her best friend were strictly platonic, and so being around him was growing harder and harder.
Much like any other day at this point, Wylie was busying herself in the kitchen after work. Being in front of the stove or digging around in the refrigerator had always been her solace, small hands working to create delicious food for her loved ones, and that’s what she was dong currently. Her homemade bread recipe was her favorite creation, the act of kneading dough and watching it rise a therapy that was more beneficial than talking to an actual professional. Pulling the hot pan out of the oven now, Wylie wiped her hands on her lemon-patterned apron, ears filling with a soft sound coming from Laurie’s room, a soft smile playing on her lips. She loved listening to him play, the sound of his voice soothing to her.
But suddenly that shift came again, that overwhelming amount of love and care that she had felt only around the strongest of couples. Furrowing her brow, the blonde approached her best friend’s room slowly, the soft strumming of guitar as the tune wrapped up hitting her ears as she paused just before going inside. “That was beautiful,” she spoke softly, not wanting to alarm him, but wanting his attention. “Who was it about?”
After just about a decade, Laurie had gotten rather good at concealing his emotions. As soon as he’d learned about Wylie’s power, he’d knew he had no choice but to do so. He was certainly not willing to sacrifice their friendship, so he couldn’t just run and hide, but he also couldn’t let her know how he really felt about her. And, for just about a decade, he had been mostly successful. Any little slip ups he had covered, no one, even Phoebe, had managed to blab on him. He had been able to craft a beautiful friendship with the woman without his deeply buried feelings getting in the way.
Lawrence had three main ways of expressing his emotions: his daredevil acts, visual art, and music. The feelings for Wylie mostly manifested themselves in the latter. After all, there was just something classic about a love song, right? Already relatively private with his musical talents, it wasn’t too difficult to hide the emotional songs from her. While Wylie was one of the few people to regular hear him strumming his guitar, gently pricking the keys on his keyboard, or obnoxiously singing in the shower, he kept certain songs from even her.
Today, however, his own strumming had covered the sound of her coming home, and his Wylie senses had never tingled. So, assuming he was alone, he played through the entire depths of his music library, allowing the full emotional release with them. Had he known she was only a few rooms away, he would have never sung this song, nor let his emotional guard down quite so freely. When he heard the door open and the familiar voice whistle through the air, his stomach sank to his feet. “I...didn’t know you were home.” He swallowed, facing her, his face stinging. “Oh, no one. Just a song. Y’know...meaningless words and pretty music and such”
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