REINA THANE.Â
Reina has no idea how this happened. Itâs gotten so beyond her reach that she feels like sheâs grasping at anything she can when she looks at him, trying to maybe figure out the answer to his question â what does she want him to say? Reina doesnât know. Really, she feels like she doesnât know anything anymore. One day everything was perfectly fine, normal even, and Rick was still just a friend. She was staying at his house until she found her own place because heâd insisted on it, because heâs a good friend and thatâs it, and it was the same as itâs always been. Then the next day, like some kind of switch had flicked on somewhere in her brain, everything changed. And Reina looked at Rick and saw more than just her best friend, and itâs driving her fucking insane because she hasnât been able to turn it off. Tonight wouldâve been an ideal time to do so â with his date and this kiss and their stupid little fight â it wouldâve been a great time for her brain to say âoh, well, that was nice but letâs go back to the way things were now.â Except it doesnât work like that, and instead of turning it off, her feelings have somehow escalated into something she canât control. Something terrifying.
Now sheâs standing here in his living room, dumbfounded, trying to figure out what she wants from him. This moment feels like the climax of something important â like whatever happens right now is going to shift everything between them. Reina thinks maybe if she just goes to bed without a word their friendship can somehow still be salvaged, and they can go back to normal tomorrow morning and pretend there isnât an unspoken tension between them. But deep down she knows that isnât true. Thereâs always been a pull between them, and now theyâve put a crack in the dam that isnât going to be fixed just by ignoring it. Besides, Reinaâs always had a need to have the last word. âI wasnât engaged to Mr. Fucking Good Lawyer, as you so eloquently put it,â she counters, although she certainly was close enough to it. Sheâs got half a mind to rip into him for bringing up her failed relationships, to ask him what that has to do with anything but she knows why he brought it up. They both know. It has everything to do with the situation and this moment and part of her wants to just put it all out there â to remind him that no one else matters because he already said it, itâs always been them.
But she doesnât. Instead theyâre doing exactly what Reina fears they would by calling it a night, sweeping whatever happened between them under the rug never to be dealt with again. Usually, thatâs exactly Reinaâs style. She hates dealing with her feelings, preferring to ignore them until it isnât an option anymore. Although right now, ignoring them doesnât feel like an option. But what else can she do besides agree? âFine. So am I.â And thatâs that. She follows him back the hall to their respective rooms, slamming her door a little too hard as they part ways, and thatâs it. Sheâs just supposed to get herself ready for the night, take her ridiculous outfit off and go to sleep, apparently. The end.
Reina gets about as far as taking her shoes off and her earrings out before sheâs marching toward the door and pulling it open again. And like he somehow knew she would, Rick is standing right there too.
She feels small standing in front of him without her glorified stilts, and pathetic as sheâs just staring at Rick with her stupid sparkly pants pooling around her feet. But she wonât back down. Reina continues to stand there, looking up at him for a beat, waiting for him to say something or for something to come out of her own damn mouth, but nothing happens. Then theyâre moving at the same time, like magnets finding each other and before Reina knows it her lips are on his again, arms wrapping around him for a kiss sheâs actually ready for this time â one she deepens almost immediately, refusing to come up for air.
Rick isnât sure when their up in flames conversation falls into a barely-there simmer, but it does. Perhaps it was sometime after she speaks, saying her final words that tie a messy bow around their already sealed package. And Rick is left with nothing, standing there in his own home pathetically. All he can do is retreat as heâs lost the war, heading back toward his room. The door is closed behind him and he doesnât do much after that.Â
His back remains pressed to the wood, his eyes casting outward as he looks to the mess of blankets he left on his bed, forgetting to fix them before they left for Skateland. Reina would roll her eyes at that, that he knew, and the thought makes his stomach hurt in an instant.Â
He thinks to simply go to sleep, perhaps then heâd find a temporary lapse of peace within an unconscious mind. But even as pleasing as that thought sounds, he doesnât do it. In fact, he couldnât move. Every single part of him, inside and out, keeps himself planted in this same spot, his back pressed against the door of his bedroom, as if he was waiting for something to happen. Anything. An explosion, more words, fucking anything.Â
With that, he turns, opening the door and marching towards Reinaâs bedroom as if he had a plan in mind when he doesnât. Just as before, heâs running on raw, pure impulse and nothing he could do can bury that feeling. And just like that, sheâs there too, swinging the door open as Rick takes the final step towards her room. Once again, itâs all up in flames, but itâs different this time. Itâs reminiscent to the same burning despite he always felt when they were teenagers, back when playing spin the bottle at some stupid house party was the biggest leap they could ever take.Â
And again, heâs not sure when he moves, but he does, Reina doing just the same. Magnets. Years and years in the making. Suddenly, his heart beats so hard he can hear it in his ears. He kisses her back, deeper than before, both of his arms moving downward to hoist her legs up and around his waist. He steps inside with her, kicking the door closed with the heel of his shoe. For once, in a sea of still present uncertainty, he doesnât speak. He doesnât break away in attempt to make sense of whatever this was. For now, he doesnât need to.













