. set me free

[lily mccarthy]

There's a push and pull here that Lily can't quite manage, the bristle in her heart cloyed by the tug of her wish for connection. There was so much history here, no matter how tainted, and seeing the grief flicker briefly in his eye...she wanted another moment. To let him breathe, to see what more he could give, if she'd drag it out of him as the silence ticked on. It wasn't fair, after all this time, but the good nature of her heart tried to win out sometimes. Even at a detriment to her own self. She also wants to eat her own words, because he has changed. The apology is wobbly, soft but honest, and she wonders if this is the first time he's ever said it out loud to her. Their break up had been messy and accusatory, something that still stings if she thinks about it hard enough. But this...this was different. An acknowledgment of something she could accept, gaze unwavering as she flashes back and forth from past to present. "It's ok if you can't. If you ever can, or want to, my offer still stands." A sliver of an olive branch trapped between her tan palms, offered in earnest. If he would give her the truth then she'd return it, the edge of a smile on her lips as she pushes forward again, arms resting on the curve of his open window. "Tell your mom I said hello?"

[Deleted]

If Xander hadn't changed, nor had Lily. She had become more grown up, more self assured, somehow, she'd even managed to become more radiant. But at her core she was still Lily McCarthy, the eternal sweetheart, the girl who couldn't stand to see someone else in pain, even when they probably deserved it. It makes him feel worse but he feels a deep swell of affection for her, for this glimpse of his sweet high school girlfriend. He often yearned for this softness. It had started as soon as he got the terrible news, and he was shocked at the time, amazed that he could yearn for someone he thought he was long over. Grief was strange. Now that he's managed a morsel of softness himself and he doesn't know how she does it, he hasn't said anything much but he feels exposed. Even in the car he doesn't feel any less so, the burden of what he can't say making him feel weak, maybe even straight up pathetic. Of course Lily doesn't see it that way. "You'll be the first person I call," he says, and he means it. He turns the radio down, even managing a lopsided smile as she mentions his mom. "Oh, not happening. Carmen got to her too, she's not talking to me. But I promise that when she does I'll pass on the message."

[lily mccarthy]

Lily McCarthy had always seen the best in people. Be it a blessing, or a curse, there was always a tiny bit of warmth left over even in the darkest of scenarios. Looking back, the highs they'd had were just as poignant as their lows; Xander would always be her first love, the boy whose hand she'd clutched so hard at a haunted house she was convinced she'd broken something. The one who'd surprised her at a school dance he'd mentioned blowing off, or taught her how to shotgun, or fell asleep at the cafe just so she had someone there with her to study. The one who'd broken her heart. It hurt but the sweet of it all remained, grateful for the kindred past even with this stuttering future. Lily's palm grazes his forearm through the open window, squeezing lightly in reminder. "I know," she murmurs, because for once she thinks he's being honest. Hopes he's being honest. It bleeds into a sheepish smirk as he brings up his mother, and she can't help but laugh lightly at his response. "Well, she'll come around. Always has." Something else springs to mind suddenly, and Lily has half a mind to tamp it down. But she has no idea how much time they have, if they'll have any again, and if it's the final moment then so be it. "I hope, if she makes you happy, that you can figure it out."

[Deleted]

Maybe their life was a nineties cheesy movie after all. Their shared history had all the trappings of an old school rom com... the bad boy and the butter-wouldn't-melt girl, the flirtation by their lockers, the times he tried to convince her to skip class with him and the times she stayed up late the night before a quiz, tutoring him against his will so he wouldn't be held back a year. It was easy to picture the montage of their life together, hazy and happy, sharing every new experience they could with each other. It's just a shame that the final new experience had been a betrayal, and that he'd decided that would be the one to bring back now. Her soft hand on his tanned arm, her words, even sweeter for being so obviously honest. "Yep, she's too forgiving for her own good. She's not the only one," he says, meeting her eyes and giving her a grin. As she speaks he feels another wave of affection for her, one that's quickly followed by one of shame. It was criminal that he could hurt someone so pure. Unable to think of what to say, he nods his head for her to step back, opening up the car door. He pulls her small frame into a tight hug, squeezing her against himself. "You're one in a mill, Lil," he says, reviving a catchphrase from many years ago. "Really. Still the dream girl I always knew you were."

[lily mccarthy]

"We all have our faults," Lily responds quickly, the air suddenly lighter in her chest. It's like a page had turned, some new chapter where they weren't sure what was coming but continued on all the same. A different type of heartache, realizing that as quietly as a friendship had been building, it wasn't fully meant to be. They'd been close, once; they'd never be that close again. The finality in that was as easing as it was painful. So she nestles closer in his arms, takes in the lingering smell of cigarettes and cinnamon, tugs a little tighter. A better goodbye than she was expecting, biting the inside of her cheek lest tears attempt to form. She wasn't happy, or confused, or longing...she just let it be, determined to wait to pick it all apart until they'd fully separated. Unable to deny the smile his compliment still brought to his face. "Well," she says as they pull apart, lips ghosting briefly against his cheek in the separation. Shoulders shrugging as she sends a wink his way. "Keep on dreamin'." California sun hits the crown of her hair, shielding her eyes as she again, steps toward the door of her complex with a wave. "Bye, X."

[Deleted]

Maybe this was what people meant when they said the truth will set you free. It feels as though a weight has been lifted from Xander, a relief that the truth was out and Lily still didn't hate him allowing him a small morsel of comfort in an otherwise completely joyless week. He knows now that it was selfish to try and maintain a friendship with her, that fundamentally, she could always give him so much more than he was able to give her, and this conversation was proof of it. Only Lily would allow him to feel in any way good when he was so thoroughly in the wrong.  She feels familiar in his arms, her scent mingling with his and giving him one final hit of nostalgia. She's so graceful in all her movements, squeezing him tighter, her lips brushing so faintly against his cheek it's as though he imagined it as she pulls away. "Just try to stop me," he says with another, slightly sad grin. He lets her slip away from him, away from his bullshit and back into her life without him, watching her as she goes. He leans against the hood of his truck, holding one hand up to shield the light from his eyes. "Hey Lily," he calls after her, "I'll call you. Y'know, if I ever find the right words to say."  It's hard to imagine a world in which that was possible, but for now, he wanted to believe it could be.

[lily mccarthy]

Of all scenarios she'd attempted to play out for today, this wasn't one she'd imagined. Short-lived, quickly fought and resolved, a strange sense of contentment setting as they regarded each other. In all honestly, if he'd asked her the same question, what she wanted, Lily didn't truly have an answer either. Unsure if she was chasing a foolish dream of redemption and closure, or driving for something similar to the early sparks of their relationship. She'd have been a fool for the latter - and it shows in spades now, even in the fading malice from their proximity. It's so much lighter now, almost nervous in the sloping drift of space that they continue to create. One full of spilled laughs, the drift of palms from their hips to their brows in the blaring sunlight. "They don't have to be right, or perfect," Lily calls in return, finding the bright flash of his eyes that flit from the concrete. "You just have to mean them." With a quick, deep breath she's back to her door, offering a final wave. "I'll be here!"