Chapter Text
The engine revved as Walter drove off. On the way, Misty had imagined every possible outcome from the night. She weighed in the good and bad and chose to go anyway. She knew she was overreacting, she always did. Still, she’d rather assume the worst than be wholly unprepared if an actual issue were to arrive.
They walked inside and were met with pop music from the 80s blasting through the speakers, vibrating her feet and making her feel like her chest was ready to implode. It could be just nerves, but she was prepared to be on the lookout, just in case. Better safe than sorry.
Crystal seemed to fit in quite well. Misty hadn’t doubted that. She had always been much more.. lifelike. Misty always felt like a burden of a ghost who just tried too hard to compensate for god knows what. She tried not to carry herself with that thought in her mind, and all anyone ever did was call her delusional, which she was, but never in the way they'd think.
They sat at the bar, Crystal ordered shots, and Misty couldn't stop staring at this torn poster of The Rolling Stones glued to the wall. She feared that if she looked at Crystal for too long then she would start having revelations that lead to something she would surely regret.
To fill in the silence she did what she always did. Ask meaningless questions.
“So.. I heard you had dated Justin Lee,” Misty spoke, interrupting Crystal just as she was about to take the shot of vodka. Crystal groaned as if she actually went through with it, but simply set the shot glass down and turned to look at Misty.
“He is dead to me.”
Misty threw her head back laughing, “Why?”
“He publicly serenaded me.” Crystal revealed, swirling the liquor around in the glass.
“What? Isn’t that romantic?”
Crystal rolled her eyes at the bitter memory, “He did it in front of my parents, he’s not even a good singer!”
“Oh. Right.”
Misty didn’t know why she was trying to put off taking the shots with Crystal. She figured it had something to do with the fact that she had never drank with her before, and didn’t want to give Crystal the satisfaction of getting too messy.
“Down the hatch!” Crystal cheered, throwing back her glass. Bottoms up, Misty supposed.
She hesitated at first, but her need to not be the odd one out took its course. Her throat burned like hell. She couldnt breathe at first, but after a few pats on the back from Crystal, she was fine. It was exhilarating, and she was beginning to feel bold.
“Any other noteworthy exes?” She interrogated, fully serious and genuinely invested in Crystal's love life for some reason that was entirely blind to her.
“Not really. It’s hard to get on my level, you know?” Crystal said, feigning confidence in a humorous manner. “Do you like Long Island iced tea?”
“Trust me, I relate on the highest level known to man.” Misty replied, “Also, I’ve never tried it before.” She added.
Crystal then ordered two of them, “What about you? Seen anyone other than Walter?”
Misty was already feeling uninhibited. She hardly drank, and was a lightweight regardless. When Misty became under the influence, she had an urge to throw herself across any living breathing form on planet earth, so If she was held accountable for anything she would eventually do orsay tonight, then she’d cross that bridge when the time came.
“No, just Walter. I find most men annoying actually,” Misty admitted.
“Really? Even Coach Scott?”
No one was ever going to let that go, were they?
“I was never actually in love with him,” Misty grunted, “It was all circumstantial.”
“Circumstantial?”
“I did it to fit in.”
Misty stared at the glass in front of her, “I wanted so badly to fit in with those girls, silly isn't it?”
The way in which she said it came out as a bad joke. No one honestly took her seriously, and Misty had a habit of downplaying her own feelings. Crystal squinted her eyes at Misty.
“You know you don’t have to, right?”
Misty grinned, “If I was myself all of the time, certainly I’d be alone forever.”
It meant nothing. Even though Misty would do anything to fit in, she’d still be the same woman that she is. Luring people in, and the ones who feel guilty enough to stay end up in fucked up situations.
Yet, she just can’t seem to stop herself. Misty would rather ruin someone’s life than be alone.
“I like you the way you are.” Crystal said, sipping her tea through the plastic straw and looking at Misty with glassy eyes.
“When you look at me, do you just see someone desperate for love? I thought I found it with Walter, but I don’t even like him.” Misty scoffed. She took note of how Crystal hadn’t bothered to correct the wrong use of her name this time around.
“Maybe Walter isn't worth it.” Crystal replied.
“Do I deserve anything more?”
“I’m well aware of what kind of person you are, but you deserve love. You deserve someone who you don’t have to just tolerate.” Crystal looked at her, sincerity sweet enough to give her a sugar rush, “Walter may love you, but I don’t think you feel loved the way you should be.”
Misty pushed up her glasses, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt loved, how am I supposed to know what it’s like?”
The thing is, Misty did feel loved once before. It was always Crystal, But she didn’t say that. She couldn’t.
Crystal smiled, “You’ll know.”
Misty knew more than people gave her credit for.
—
When Misty spoke, Crystal wanted to shake her senseless. It was satisfying to hear Misty finally admit her true feelings regarding Walter, though. Annoying as it was to listen to Misty pretend that what they shared meant nothing. It was whatever.
After that, they simply talked about musicals. This time without interruption. She had come to find that Misty had horrible taste in everything. Luckily, Crystal didnt, and she was plenty willing to spend her time showing her what true art was. As the drinks continued, their words became slightly slurred and a bit more unhinged when the topic of music came up. Definitely louder.
Right now, Crystal didn’t feel the need to hit herself for thinking highly of Misty. Not when she was sitting beside her, looking like an angel with her golden hair and glowing skin. It was the liquor talking, surely, but she’s never felt so present.
Misty's face was flushed, and everytime Crystal accidentally brushed against her, she felt a jolt of heat travel along her limbs. If she weren’t drunk out of her mind, she’d be embarrassed at the effect Misty was currently having on her.
The lingering tension grew weaker with every laugh and every good memory they recalled. Misty was speaking on their time together as if it was the highlight of her life. Crystal couldn’t hide the fact that she shared the same feeling. It was a low fucking bar.
She rested her hands on Misty’s shoulders, “Misty. I’ve been thinking.”
Misty eyes grew wide in concern, “What?!”
“Are you still awful at dancing?”
Misty stood up, playfully staring daggers at her counterpart, “I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work!”
“Well, you’re getting up,” Crystal replied, crossing one leg over the other.
And with that, Misty took Crystal's hand, catching her off guard, and led her to the crowd of people. Sue her, she wanted to dance. She wanted to have fun.
Crystal didn’t know why, but all of the sudden, she could smell the music. It smelled like coming home after a long day of work and falling into someone’s arms, letting that someone take care of her, bathe her, and brush her hair back when it dangled in front of her face.
She was so tired. All she wanted to do was let herself go and stop ignoring how much she needed Misty. To stop disregarding the fact that Misty was it.
Crystal could feel her heart pulsate in her chest as Misty twirled her around. She had given up on biting back a smile. She didn’t need to carry her own weight anymore. Not Misty was behind her, wrapping her arms around Crystal's waist and swaying her around like a safety rope lassoed to rescue a drowning victim choking on water. She was floating.
Crystal leaned her head back and brought her hands up to tangle them in the blonde hair of the woman currently holding her upright.
Unsurprisingly, Misty dancing was still god awful, as was everything else about her, but graceful and beautiful at the same time. It was confidence. In order to be confident, it was like they had to share the energy that emerged within them together.
They weren’t ready for that. Not until now.
They moved together fluidly. Crystal's eyes were dead set on watching Misty's curls move around as she moved to the music with an embarrassingly lack of rhythm. She hasn't even tried to set her focus elsewhere
Crystal felt Misty's touch go from her waist to her hands, intertwining them. The dancing was crossing the line of two old friends into something much more intimate. Misty pulled Crystal closer, and Crystal never felt more like prey.
The song came to an end. Her ears were red and buzzing. Crystal turned around to face Misty, and when their eyes locked, Crystal knew they still had it. It never left.
Her fingers came to Misty’s cheek before her brain could even think. She delicately traced Misty’s freckles with her thumb and watched as her eyes fluttered. Misty leaned into her touch, catlike, purring. Grateful.
Crystal felt her insides grow hot. Her skin tingled and she wanted nothing more than to reach inside of Misty’s chest and burrow herself inside.
Her throat immediately became dry as Misty leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
“I have to pee!” She said, turning away and gesturing for Crystal to follow.
—
The bathroom in question was a single room. No stalls. It did have graffiti everywhere, though. The owners likely grew tired of scrubbing the walls and just left it to be decor, or whatever.
Was it awkward? Misty didn’t care. She sat down and peed shamelessly. Her and Crystal had seen each other at their worst. They literally used to dump a bucket of shit off a mountain and used it as a bonding moment.
Plus, she doesn't think Crystal cared much either. They were both pleasantly inebriated. Misty hadn’t felt this much fun in years. She hadnt felt anything in years, up until now. It was overwhelming, but she couldn't get enough of it. If Crystal was going to give, she wasn't gonna stand there empty handed, believe that.
She chuckled at the words on the wall whilst sitting on the toilet. Crystal looked around the hundreds of lewd drawings to see what was so funny. Misty pointed to a drawing of a penis.
Crystal grinned and shook her head. She turned around so that Misty could finish up and looked at the walls like she was in an art museum.
Misty went to go wash her hands, still giggling. She didn't even know how absurd it was to find something so delinquent as funny as she thought it to be.
Crystal leaned against the wall as she waited, “Oh the creativity is astounding.”
“I think I’ve seen enough penises in my lifetime!” She said, drying her hands off.
“Ha!”
They made their way back to the bar, and Crystal’s laughter echoed through her mind in a way that vibrated her skull, making her feel more drunk than she already was.
Misty wanted to close her eyes, throw this entire building away and replace it with a field of wildflowers. Her and Crystal would be alone, running through the weeds, faced with the scalding heat of the sun. She would open her eyes and there Crystal would be, hovering over her with her hair dangling in the wind, smiling for her.
Misty would never question Crystal’s reasoning for anything, not when she was filled with so much light. It was the air that settled around her, the kind that she would breathe in and exhale with such regret. It followed her wherever she’d go, even after years of refusing to speak to each other. That's how much of an impact she had on Misty. Her need for Crystal showed itself through an indelible scar. Misty has never needed anyone as much as she needed her. Not her teammates, not her role as equipment manager, not anything.
“So, did you miss me the way that I missed you?” Misty blurted, a light-hearted attempt at conversation, but her lack of social awareness led her to imagine that it definitely did not come out how she wished it to. She embarrassed herself by asking before they even had the chance to sit down. As if her red cheeks couldn't get any redder.
It came out more solemn than she intended, too. She didn’t want to ruin the good energy they had going on, but she had to know. There was a feeling in her stomach, like she had just drank boiling water. The tears in her eyes stung, but wouldn't fall.
Crystal bit her lip, visibly hesitant and questioning if she should speak now or forever hold her peace. Although, peace was entirely out of the question if you were in the same vicinity as Misty.
Rolling her shoulders back and mentally preparing for the worst, Misty kept her stance on the ground floor, but her eyes followed Crystal while she sat back down. “I missed you Misty. I fucking hated myself for it, but I don’t anymore. I’m tired of pretending that I haven’t felt like half of me was just.. gone?” Crystal's words came out in a slow drawl. “I’ve never been so unsatisfied with my life, but then you came back, and it’s like.. I don’t know.”
Misty’s mouth parted, she couldn't speak, but her face remained stoic, or tried to at least. In reality, she had a frown that would put the cutest little dog to death.
Crystal’s eyes squeezed tight for a second, and when she opened them, Misty noticed a familiar twinkle in them which she once had been acquainted with years ago. “I thought I was existing in spite of you, when really I was just existing for the hope that you would come back. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Misty wondered if this was a scheme— something Crystal needed to do so that they’d be even, or—
Crystal looked clean.- Misty wasn’t. She didn’t like feeling clean. Not after the wilderness. The dirt she tracked around in her presence was the only reminder of the closest thing she ever got to belonging.
If Crystal stuck around, would she make Misty change? She thought perhaps that if there was anyone who could, it’d be her. Would she even have it any other way?
Misty had more trauma from being born than she did from having to eat her teammates and nearly freezing to death every night. Her only trauma in the wilderness was receiving the admiration she dreamed of, then having it stripped away like it wasn’t the only thing that gave her a reason to live. It was demented. It was all her own fault too. She’d forever be glued to the sidelines, and she had no one to blame but herself.
Misty always had revelations when she drank. Brief moments of self awareness led her to spiral. And that's exactly what she was doing.
While attempting to read Crystal for all she was worth, Misty knew she would be satisfied in the sidelines, as long as she was the one Crystal would run to once the game was over.
“So, you don't like- hate me or anything?” her voice quivered.
“I wanted to. I tried to.” Crystal glanced up at her.
Those words circled around misty like a ring of fire. Crystal was basically waving a white flag in the air. This was a green light. This meant they were okay.
Misty swallowed back the lump in her throat, "I didn't think... I mean, I hoped, but..." Misty's voice trailed off in disbelief. Crystal was right in front of her. They were together again. Whatever it was that had been controlling and depriving Misty’s mind since she could remember was willing to compensate for the woman standing in front of her.
They were here, and Misty would not lose her again. She would sacrifice all that she has ever known about herself to keep that from happening. Misty wanted so badly to throw herself into those arms, kiss Crystal, and communicate every single emotion she felt through the action in itself.
But she couldn't.
Not here.
Not until she knew that she wasn't just making things up in her head like she often did. She wanted to hear Crystal say the word, to give her the green light personally.
The only thing they knew was each other, how could anyone ever understand? They were special. What they have is special. Sure, Misty had moments within her life, tiny spouts of delusion and glory, but there were some things that you couldn't lie to yourself about. She was an expert at lying to herself, but not even she could trick herself into thinking Crystal loved her if it wasn't true.
Not when Crystal once told her how clearly she could see through her, and that there would be no world in which she could forgive her.
Forgiveness was overrated. Without recognizing how rich that is coming from her, Misty looked right into Crystal's eyes, brighter than she had ever seen them before, and could see how she was thinking the exact same thing.
–
Crystal didnt know what it was about Misty, but ever since they had met, her existence continuously tore and gnawed straight through her. Something in this fucked up universe had conspired to bring them together once again. Hiding away had no place in her heart anymore. Misty’s loyalty was unwavering, and all she ever wanted was to have it reciprocated, but Crystal couldn't give that to her. She ran, terrified, and she had every right to be. Back then, it made her feel hopelessly empty. Crystal cried herself to sleep every night when she was positive no one was paying attention, not that they truly would during the day, but now, it felt like god.
She’s never felt more fulfilled.
“I’ll never forgive you,” Crystal shook her head, "but I just needed you to know that.”, she said slowly, unable to stop herself from smiling at how promising and special this felt. The heat of the room was tormenting, and Crystal didnt know why she let herself drink this much, but even though she’ll probably wind up hating herself in the morning, she knew it was for the greater good.
Misty’s ingeniousness, how much she seems to care, even when no one wanted her to, pierced through Crystal's heart like a mighty sword. That ache in her chest, the one that had been building for years upon years, was just about ready to spill over.
Crystal lost herself in Misty, and she was a blind fool to think Misty wouldn't find her there. In Misty’s eyes, she could see a mirror casting a reflection that made them look undoubtedly the same underneath emotional and physical layers.
She could tell Misty was absorbing the words with a hint of distrust, but most of all, hope. It made Crystal’s body ache. She watched Misty’s eyes squeezed shut as she attempted to figure out what to say next.
“Does this mean I get to keep calling you Crystal?”
Crystal scoffed, Misty was too damn endearing for her own good, “I mean, you’d be the only one.” she told her.
“Maybe I want to be the only one.” Misty smiled bashfully, rocking back and forth on her feet and glancing around the room nonchalantly.
Crystal tried to hide her grin to no success. Misty’s ability to transform deep consequential moments into something so unserious was astounding, especially given the fact that most of the time it was unintentional.
“You’re batshit.”
Misty tilted her head, “..Thanks?”
“No problem,” Crystal replied, snapping her fingers, gesturing for the bartender to serve them more drinks. All her previous advice to herself to not get too messy flew out the window the moment she started spilling her guts to Misty.
“So that dance earlier, huh?” Misty whistled, “I think we could do better.”
“Pfft, they couldn't handle all this.” Crystal waved her hand, “I wanna catch up, for realsies this time.”
She was aware of how it was the exact thing they had been doing the past couple days, but Crystal just wanted to hear more of their voices together again. The night was closing and people were already shuffling out of the bar, but neither Crystal nor Misty were ready to leave.
Misty was going on a tangent about all the guys she went on dates with in college. And Crystal thought her dating history was insane. Hearing these stories, she worried for Misty and her naivety. If only she had been there, Misty wouldn't have had to get dragged through the mud by her hair from men existing in life like they were pigs. Crystal would have to deal with that information later, because she was listening intently as Misty told her that after the summer ended, she planned on finding a job back in Wistatok.
Misty had much to look forward to, and maybe not following her original plans to settle in Los Angeles to stick by her side was a stupid idea, but Crystal was a hopeless romantic, and she would be depraved no longer. She wasn't as crazed as Misty was in her actions, but she was just as impulsive, albeit in more sane ways.
Some sort of trickery had to be going on, because these thoughts were coming out of the damn woodwork. In her dreams, Misty would make the occasional appearance when she wasn't so busy lurking in her nightmares, though, that was a vast stretch compared to legitimately fantasizing about starting a life with her. What would she even do if she went back home?
Running wasn't the way she wanted to live. How did that saying go? It’s better to run towards your ghosts? Whatever it was that she wanted to do, she couldn't do it alone. Crystal has always been receptive to change, perhaps it was time to accept it with open arms.
Misty’s animated way of speaking shook her back to the present, “What kind of stuff do you plan on doing in Cali?”
“Oh, I don't know. I’m not sure I plan on staying there anymore.” Crystal declared.
“Well, you could always stay with me!” She said, her face lighting up with excitement.
It was fucked up how Crystal knew Misty would offer to let her stay. She wondered if she was like– evil for taking advantage of her warped sense of hospitality, but nonetheless, it’s not like Misty wouldn't have tricked her into staying anyways. She’d probably handcuff her to the damn mailbox if it meant Misty could tend to her needs as she wished to do.
Crystal once was too good to accept Misty as she was. Now she was ready. Perhaps the idea came from loneliness, but she knew it also came from whatever love she had left in her heart. Who else better than Misty could assist in carrying that burden?
Still, she had to falsify her indecisiveness to play the part. It was okay, she had practice. “Are you sure it's a good idea, I mean– I don't want to leech off you or anything.”
“Nonsense!” Misty exclaimed, “Oh my god! Imagine how fun it would be, us together again, just like old times!”
Crystal hadn't bothered to question why Walter had not been included in the future plans Misty had started rambling about. Technically, she had only brought up Crystal’s name, and how much fun they would have as roommates. It would feel wrong to say it didn't make her chest overflow with pride.
“Okay! Okay! We’ll see.” Crystal settled on saying, to which Misty let out a squeak in return as she clapped her hands like a seal.
Crystal halfway listened to Misty’s rambling as she internally questioned what time it was. She wasn't sure of the exact time, but she was positive that Walter had probably been waiting outside in the RV for ages. It wasn't her responsibility to keep track, so she hadnt uttered a word about it.
Plus, Misty deserved a break from him. She saw how she was looking at him during breakfast. Unmistakable annoyance. The kind Misty often received, and was likely familiar with.
It was only a matter of time before they got kicked out of the bar. Crystal could practically feel the angered and impatient glares from the staff. They actually should probably leave.
“Hey, Misty, What time is it?”
Her eyes widened as she immediately glanced at her watch, cursing, “Shit! We were supposed to be out of here hours ago!”
Crystal stood awkwardly to the side as Misty scrambled to pay for their tab. They were both pretty drunk still. Crystal leaned against the harsh brick wall whilst Misty simply flailed everywhere as she tried to examine her wallet for the appropriate funds.
Eventually, they made their way outside where the cool air shocked their bodies from the heat they were accustomed to inside. Walter parked right under a street light that was being circled by moths and other insects. What an idiot. If Crystal had to deal with mosquitos biting her all night, she was going to be pissed.
‘‘I wonder if he’s asleep.” Misty giggled, her shoes scraping against the pavement as her drunken balance made itself shown.
Crystal stopped around 3 feet away from the side of the RV, “Do you think we should scare him?” she whispered, hunching over in fear of their presence being caught.
Misty stood in front of her, smiling like she just discovered the secret to world peace, yet not mumbling a single word.
“Are you good?” Crystal questioned, eyes squinting in concern.
She didn't even have time to process the silence as she felt herself being pushed into the outer wall of that hideous camper van, RV, whatever the fuck it was called- and grunted in shock the moment Misty’s warm lips placed themselves on her own.
It was a whirlwind. It was like her lips were being sucked into a spiral, and that she had no choice but to let herself finally give in. Unsure of what to do, she hesitantly placed her hands on Misty’s hips as she reciprocated the kiss with equal heat.
Misty insisted upon her, pushing herself so that they were chest to chest and breathing in one another's oxygen. Crystal gasped at the feeling, at the idea, that Misty had it in her to initiate something so bold. They should have nights like this more often, she thought. To be fair, Misty was pretty drunk, as was Crystal. If she was sober, her knees would have probably wound up giving into the concrete rather than Misty. The alcohol, thank god, satiated her mind enough to not completely collapse.
Crystal sucked the poison out of Misty like it was the antidote for hers. She sucked and she drank like she never had before. Her grip on Misty’s hips tightened before coming up only a few inches to grasp onto her shirt. That's when Misty decided to kill her once more, pulling away from the kiss.
When they parted, the sound of harmonic high-pitched gasps echoed along the parking lot. Hell, even the mosquitos were getting in on the action because the consistent buzzing and flying made her think that they wanted a piece of it too.
Fuck, they were biting her. She was so drunk and so turned on that she didn't even feel them stick their proboscis into her damn skin. Crystal started smacking herself like a mad woman and swatting the air like she was shadowboxing.
It was giving her the heebie-jeebies. Crystal despised bugs. She had a stronger urge to throw up when they had to eat maggots than when she had to eat Jackie. When she heard giggles, she grit her teeth.
“This is funny to you?!”
Misty was apparently too entertained to answer, so in a fit of rage, she reached forward and titty twisted the smile plum off her face.
Misty retracted, clutching her breast in pain, “Did you just fucking titty twist me? What are you, eight?” She said, slightly annoyed.
“Eight inches deep in your mom, maybe.”
Misty’s jaw dropped in horror. It was the most hilarious thing Crystal had ever witnessed. Her humor was delightful. It truly was a shame her efforts went unnoticed, especially since she fake laughed countless times at Misty’s jokes.
Crystal stuck her tongue out at her, and Misty pouted. They sort of just stood there, killing mosquitoes like it was their full-time job until they both started to feel kind of guilty about it. Killing the mosquitos, that is.
They panted, out of breath from their little murder spree. It was sort of like the frog and the toad. It was a preview of the closest thing to domesticity their lives could possibly have. It was bittersweet.
“We should probably go inside now,” Misty suggested, looking down at her feet.
“Yeah,” Crystal agreed, kicking a random pebble from under her food.
She scurried behind Misty as they climbed up the short few steps. What she was first greeted with was Walter snoring on her pullout mattress, completely dead to the world around him. Misty brought up a finger to her lip that insinuated that they needed to be quiet and led her to the bedroom.
Crystal closed the door behind them as Misty turned on the lamp.
“I just want you to know that I do sleep with pants on,” Misty stated as if Crystal would have expected her to sleep nude.
“Uh- I do too?”
Misty placed a hand over her heart, “A match made in heaven.” She gushed like her boyfriend wasn't sleeping less than nine feet away from them. Crystal flashed her a smile before reaching for the clothes that Misty gave her.
They both changed out of their clothes on opposite sides of the room with their backs facing each other. It was ironic, throwing all pleasantries out of the situation outside only to uphold them in the bedroom.
“Can I sleep on your side of the bed?” Crystal asked, feeling very shy and exposed inside the room where the bed took up more than half of the space. She didn't feel comfortable sleeping where Walter slept. It felt wrong to take his place after swapping saliva with his girlfriend. If you asked Crystal, that spot was hers, not his. She was there first. Her drunken mind imagined herself fighting him for it.
Misty threw all of the tacky throw pillows on the floor, “Of course.”
She said it like Crystal didn't even have to ask.