leaning on you

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a/n hello my friends. a lot kinda happened last chapter, huh :(

I promise this one is pretty cute and chill though :)


61.


We spent the following days laying in various positions around the house. At one point, I found Emma draped over our kitchen island. I poked her with a fork and she kicked me in the arm.

Leo seemed to enjoy all the company and attention. He laid on top of Emma's back, curled in a little white ball, purring so loud the whole borough could hear. Sometimes when that happened, I threw treats onto Emma for him to eat.

We bought takeout a lot. Chicken tenders and chinese food and burgers and fries. We still haven't bought a new TV since Halloween. Instead, I pulled our old, boxy monstrosity out of the closet and plugged it back in. After hitting the top of it a few times, it worked just fine.

Harry's subliminal jewelry promotions boosted Emma's business quite a bit. She quit her job at the cafe this fall. So neither of us had anywhere to be. I debated taking her and Leo to France, but decided against it. We'll save that trip for some other time.

I checked the mail for the first time in a while. There were a lot of goodies. Emma and I did a little unboxing of all the gifts that brands have sent me, hoping I'll wear their clothes, or their makeup, or eat their food. Our favorites were two mid-length Dior dresses with a letter wishing me well. The collection hadn't been released yet. They're considering bringing me as a guest to the MET this year.

"What the fuck," I stare at the fabric in my lap. Emma stops rewinding the VHS in the TV.

"They just want you to put in a good word with Harry," she decides through a mouthful of popcorn.

I secretly saw her applying lipstick in the mirror one night. She started crying. She wiped it off and never did it again. Emma hates lipstick. She only started wearing it because of Kate. A few days later, I found her two sticks in the bathroom trash can.

The first two weeks of the new year are just wrapping up when I start feeling restless. I find her laying on the couch, our old VHS of Dirty Dancing we bought at Cam's thrift store is crackling on the TV. I squat down next to her face and poke her cheek.

"What," she absentmindedly reaches up to scratch Leo's chin. He purrs like a goddamn semi truck.

"We need to go for a walk."

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"I'm serious, Emma. It's time to go outside."

"It's ten degrees out."

"So? Bundle up."

"I don't want to get cold," she whines and rolls over. Leo abandons ship and makes a beeline for the windowsill.

"You want to know what I think?"

She squints at me.

"I think you're scared to try again."

"Oof." She grins.

"But if you don't get some fresh air, you're going to keep spiralling. We've wallowed long enough. Come on." I yank her blanket off of her. She shrieks and falls off the couch.

"You bitch!"

"I love you too," I smile sweetly. "Get your coat and put on pants. You have ten minutes."

I wait by the front door, and I can hear her rummaging through her room to get ready. Eventually, she storms down the stairs, bundled in a heavy winter coat and scarf.

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