Changed

Small Comfort (that night, part 1)

Sorry this took a while to post and it's short. I'll try to have part 2 up (which is from Maks' POV) by the end of this week.

“Maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up.” - Taylor Swift, ‘All Too Well’

Meryl fumbled with the lock on the door, tears clouding her vision. What the hell were you thinking? the thought forced its way out of the turmoil in her mind before the could stop it and she let out a small sob.

As if that cry of distress alerted it, the door choose that moment to swing open and grant her access to her shared apartment. Grateful, she barreled into the apartment, slamming the door closed behind her, and collapsed onto the couch in a small heap of desperation.

“Meryl?” Witney’s voice called.

She didn’t answer.

“Meryl?” She could tell by the sound of circling footfalls that Witney was looking for her. “Oh my God, Mer, are you okay?” Witney sat down next to her on the sofa, placing a comforting hand on the distressed girl’s back. “What happened?”

“Maks.” She was surprised at the clarity and anger to her own tone. The defiance in her voice made Witney tense.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing. I mean, he was… I kissed him.” She mumbled, shame underlying the mask of distress that played across her face.

“You what?” Witney sounded as surprised as Meryl felt.

“I…” she bowed her head, attempting to hide the tears.

“It’s okay, Mer. You felt compelled to kiss him in the heat of the moment; there was nothing behind it, that kiss meant nothing to you, right? He’ll understand.”

If anything, Witney’s efforts at consolence worsened her tears.

“What did I say?” she asked, holding the sobbing Meryl in a tight embrace.

“Nothing. You’re right. That kiss meant nothing to me.” But her eyes told a different story.

“That’s not the truth, is it?” Meryl shook her head - cue more tears - and buried her face in the couch. Some time passed before either of the girls spoke again.

“Kissing him…” Meryl broke the silence. “It’s like… I don’t know how to describe it. And I don’t know why I did it.” She was gaining confidence as she spoke, her words taking on a hint of defiance. “But in some ways I’m glad I did, if only to see that nothing has changed. And I…” she trailed off, knowing exactly what she wanted to say but not trusting herself to bear the news, “...Wit, I think I still love him.”