Once Dylan feels the slight pain of Stevieâs poke, jumping out of her thoughts and letting her arms slip around the other girl, her face on reflex resting in choppy blonde locks. âSorry, babe.â She murmured, the familiar feeling of Stevie in her arms calming her down slightly. âJust - some stuff. Weird feeling stuff. I think Iâm just tired.â Letting out a breath, Dylan held onto Stevie tighter. Stevie- the only person who her feelings for werenât about sex. There was friendship, a friendship that was so committed she didnât think sheâd ever give it up. But then there was those longings. Those pinches in her chest. Things sheâd chalked up to just how beautiful the other girl was. But she didnât act on anything, because Stevie deserved better. And she had come to terms with that, and made sure she didnât break her promise to herself.
 With anyone- stirring feelings were rare and far between. She usually just left, and dealt with them on her own terms. Especially with someone that was kind, or gentle with her. She didnât want that. She didnât deserve that. There were so many injustices in the world and she refused to become one of them. But with Harper? She really didnât want to run. She was so tired of running. So tired of making herself shove everything down. She knew she didnât deserve the good, but was sleeping around with people who didnât care about her any better for her becoming good?
 âEverythingâs okay squirt.â Dylan mumbled absentmindly, closing her eyes as they settled in bed.Â
Stevie found herself sighing contently once she was wrapped in Dylanâs arms, fitting perfectly. A small smile in place, she nuzzled further into the brunetteâs embrace, her twitching muscles instantly relaxing and her brainâs constant buzzing slowing down to a bearable hum. As Dylan spoke, Stevie listened carefully, trying to catch her gaze to see what she was feeling or what she may need, but it remained hidden. Worrying over Dylan came as second nature to the blonde. Because she always wondered if her best friend was happy. If she was smoking too much, getting in fights, bruising her knuckles. Stevie always wondered if there was something she could do to make her life better, to make that smile more common. So like many other occasions over the years, she let herself be held, trying to become a source of comfort for whatever was going in Dylanâs brain.
âFeeling stuff? Is it like... Bad? Was somebody mean?â Stevie asked softly, looking at Dylan with wide, innocent eyes. Her fingers were fidgeting absent-mindedly with some of the brunetteâs bracelets as she waited for an answer. âWhy tired? Havenât you been sleeping well? Have I left you alone on this bed too long? Did you keep your sheets dirty for like months or something and thatâs why you had to wash them? I have some tea to help you sleep. And some other techniques, because sleep is a waste of time but we need it.â The blonde keeps rambling, although as per usual, sheâs losing her train of thought by the end of the last sentence.Â
âYou promise?â She shifted gently, getting settled with her head on Dylanâs chest, listening to her soothing heartbeat. âThanks for letting me stay. I know what you will say but I always like to thank you.â
