Little Girl Blue - 𝐖𝐋𝐖

𝐈. Philia- Fourteen

She was down in the garden when I found her. A robe lazily tied at her front, the naked body exposed beneath whenever the wind blew.

I reached out my hand, "Coffee," I offered—only cream, no sugar, had to be vanilla.

She took the mug and cracked a small smile, "Thanks." The watering pale in her hand was set on the ground. We moved to the two white chairs on the porch, Jane's steaming mug disappearing into the air. It was early, sun just past rising but she had been up much longer than that.

"Jane..." I began.

"The watermelon is growing. There's flowers on the vine,"

"Talk to me—"

She drank from her mug, staring down into the brown liquid. "A few strawberries, too."

I swiped my forehead, the summer heat already attacking the day. I sighed, exhausted,  "You're avoiding me."

Jane shifted in her seat, recrossing her legs. The opening to her robe separated at her waist allowing the sun to catch the skin of her legs. So high up her thigh you could start to see the lace along her hips. "I just don't want to talk about last night, that's all."

"We don't have to but—,"

"Please not the buts," She waved off.

"...But how do you feel?"

She exhaled, the corner of her lips turning upward. "Good, surprisingly."

I hummed in shock, "Even with Nicky?" I was hesitant with my words. I didn't want her to be mad at him for telling me, I didn't want her mad at me for knowing.

"Yes, even with him." She seemed proud of herself, almost. Having a somewhat arrogant pride like she had won something. Flaunting it with a smirk or her chin high, sipping from the mug. She was up to something.

I wanted to call her name just to distract her from herself. Bring those eyes back on to me, know that I was the only one with her attention.

I fumbled with the tag of my tea bag and read the small quote before speaking, "You didn't have to do what you did last night, they were just curious."

Her eyes rolled, "And even you should know by now that curiosity killed the cat."

I sat back and tapped my glass, "Well, anyway, thank you."

She stared at the sky, those few stray pieces of hair blowing out past her ear. "You know I started this garden with my dad," She started.

"Yeah?"

"It was the second summer I was staying with him," There was a smile on her face, reminiscent, soft, "God I had to be ten or eleven, anyway, he came home with all these seeds and told me next time I visit I could eat everything we grew."

I could see it now. Little Jane marching around the garden with too big boots on, sticking seeds wherever she felt necessary. Happy then as she is now to see the growth of all the flowers and the fruit she planted. "This was his house?"

The mug stayed tight in her grip. "It was his studio. He liked to come here and paint, get quiet. He was a writer."

She scoffed. "And he used to tell me these stories about how he and my mother met. How he was the high school outcast and she was the beach girl from California—" She placed her hand on her forehead and chuckled, "I'm sorry, it's silly."

"I think it's nice."

Swiping at the corner of her eye. "Yeah, well, it's not much of a love story."

I stood up and held out my hand. "Let me cook you breakfast." I didn't like seeing her this way. It felt unlike herself and too complicated to sort out when she was in a daze or upset. I needed to see Jane, hear her go on and on about flowers and the weather and stories from her father.

"You don't have to..."

I shook my head, firm in my decision."Nope. I'm cooking and you're eating."

She sighed and took one last sip, allowing her hand to slip through my fingers. When I took her to the kitchen I ordered her to sit.

"Where are the pans?" I placed my hands on my hips and glanced around the kitchen.

"Top right cabinet."

I hummed and grabbed the skillet, "spatula?"

"I showed you where those are the other day..."

"Right." And then I went to the left drawer to retrieve a spatula.

She chuckled quietly, trying to cover it with her robe when I caught her. "What's so funny?"

Her back straightened, Jane couldn't help but laugh again, "I'm sorry, you're just so cute."

That word again. "You know, I wish you would stop saying that."

"Why?" She asked casually.

Like she didn't know. "Never mind, Jane. You just sit there and look pretty."

"You think I'm pretty?" I ignored the peak in her interest.

Cooking in silence as she watched, I cracked the eggs, and seasoned, and sliced. I wasn't much of a cook, though I liked the idea of doing something for Jane. Returning some of what she had given to me in any way I could. I liked knowing she was looking at me prance around the kitchen, hard at work. It satisfied my ego knowing I had her attention.

I remained careful with my moves until I flipped the last omelet on to a plate for her. "No tell me, I want to know." She asked.

I grabbed the plate, "I'm not embarrassing myself anymore."

She lifted a brow, "Oh like I didn't just see you switching your hips when you walked over to the sink."

I turned my back, the feeling of my cheeks warming up betraying me. "That's it, you can starve."

She laughed and stood up, corning me in the space between the counter tops. When she attempted to reach for the plate I snatched it away. "Florence." She warned.

I grinned, "If you be nice I'll let you eat."

She cocked her neck and grabbed my sides, firm and down by my waist. There was a moment when we just looked at each other. Her hands were on me, I could feel it. Her leg parting mine, the nakedness of her chest felt on my own. She didn't move any further, maybe just as breathless as I was being this close again.

But that dimple deepened, my reaction furthering her amusement. She leaned down to my ear, the slightest brush of her lips causing me to weaken. Lowering her voice, "May I please eat?"

I whined when she pulled away. "So you do have manners?" I lowered the plate back down and shoved it into her.

"What can I say? You bring out the best in me." She took a bite.

Rolling my eyes, I finished wiping down the stove and made another cup of coffee for Jane. When I was done I joined her at the window.

"I'm surprised it's good." She crossed her legs.

I scoffed and poked my lip out, "I told you it would be."