"She's worried about you."
"Everyone's worried about me. I'm fine."
Raven set the food on the kitchen counter and turned to face her. "Are you?"
Annabelle opened her mouth to say yes, to insist that everything was perfectly fine, that she just needed to get through tomorrow and then she'd be able to rest.
But the words wouldn't come.
"No," she admitted quietly. "I'm not fine."
It felt so wrong to say those words, but so right at the same time, like she was lighter just for saying them. She couldn’t believe that she’d said them, but there they were, floating in the air between them.
Raven's expression softened. "Come here."
Annabelle went. She let herself be pulled into Raven's arms, let herself rest her head on Raven's shoulder, let herself just be held for a long moment.
"The food's going to get cold," she murmured.
"Don't care."
They stood there in the kitchen, Raven's arms around her, and for the first time all day, Annabelle felt like she could breathe properly.
Eventually, they ate dinner on the sofa, plates balanced on their laps, some terrible reality show playing on the television that neither of them was really watching.
Annabelle picked at her sweet and sour chicken. "A teenager asked for my autograph today. In the shop." She cleared her throat. "She, um, called me your girlfriend."
Raven's chopsticks paused halfway to her mouth. "Oh."
"Yeah."
"We haven't really talked about… labels."
"No," Annabelle agreed. "We haven't."
There was a pause. Then Raven said carefully, "Do you want to?"
Annabelle thought about it. About the paparazzi in the car park. About Raven's phone calls with the band. About the factthat tomorrow was the fundraiser and after that, nothing was holding Raven here anymore.
"Not tonight," she said. "Tonight I just want to… be. Is that okay?"
Raven set her plate aside and pulled Annabelle closer. "That's more than okay."
They finished eating in comfortable silence. Then Annabelle curled up against Raven's side, fitting herself into the spaces that seemed made for her, and let herself not think about tomorrow.
For an hour, maybe more, she just existed. No lists. No planning. No fixing. Just this.
Just them.
Raven's fingers traced idle patterns on her arm. The television murmured in the background. Outside, the village was quiet and dark.
And Annabelle felt something different. A recognition, maybe. That this, this stillness, this simplicity, this moment of just being, was something she needed. Had always needed, even if she'd never let herself have it.
She tilted her head up to look at Raven, found her already watching with dark, guarded eyes that were becoming less guarded every day.
"Hi," Annabelle whispered.
"Hi yourself."
