--CHAPTER 12--

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It wasn't easy.

Something had shifted, changed, erupted, exploded, and it wasn't easy. It wasn't easy to walk past her and not get a strange fluttering in her chest when she smiled; it wasn't easy to brush her, even just lightly, and not feel a thrill go through her spine; it wasn't easy to ignore her sweaty palms or sudden inability to string more than two words together in a coherent sentence whenever she asked her something.

It wasn't easy.

All she felt was the pounding of her heart, the heat in her veins, the sense of wholeness in her very bones. She thrummed with the energy, focused it all at a single point, and felt alive, alive, alive.

It wasn't easy because, for the first time, she believed Camila's assurances, Barbara's protests, Andrea's frank comments. It wasn't easy because where there was once a wall—a certainty that she was doomed to fruitlessly offer up her limitless energy source to something that would guzzle away wastefully—there was now nothing but opportunity. It was a wide, gaping, door, and it called to her, and she went to it like a moth to a flame.

It was no longer easy to put her desires on hold, to pull herself back, to throw up a wall and merely bear the pain, because she knew—beyond a shadow of a doubt, she knew—there was a chance. There was hope. There was something there. (And she wanted it.)

When she and Ally returned from their 'walk,' the kitchen was empty except for Normani, who was still sipping at her coffee, reading a book at the table. Ally looked at Dinah briefly, let out a dramatic sigh, and without a single word, left them alone. And Dinah, Dinah walked over to Normani, and pressed a quick kiss to Normani's cheek before resting her chin on Normani's shoulder (even though they were alone, even though there was no reason for it, even though she could practically hear Normani's mind whirring away, trying to puzzle out her strange behavior).

"How'd the talk go?" she asked, flipping the page calmly, her free hand reaching out to grab Dinah's, clearly not wanting to question the out of character display of affection.

"I hate talking about my feelings."

"So it was awkward?"

"So awkward." Normani laughed and she turned to look at Dinah, the angle strange, their faces far too close.

"Did you two make up or...?"

"We have an understanding."

"Did you threaten bodily harm?"

"No. She offered to let me hit her, though."

"Yeah, we all owe you that, I think." Dinah frowned and pulled away, her heart skipping a beat when she caught the look of disappointment on Normani's face before she was able to mask it.

"Look, you have to stop that."

"Stop what?"

"That kicked puppy routine." When Normani looked vaguely offended, Dinah held up her hands. "I don't mean...I know you're sorry. I know you regret everything that happened. But if we're going to get over everything...you need to stop with the apologizing and the putting yourself down."

"So don't blame myself?"

"Exactly." Normani gave her a look, a mix between exasperation and amusement and fondness and all Dinah could think about was that it was a mess.

"Hi pot, I'm kettle," she deadpanned after a short pause, raising her eyebrows.

"Then we both stop it. We both made mistakes—though, some are considerably larger than others." She gave Normani a significant look, and Normani rolled her eyes.

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