“Good,” Juliet stated, firmly.
Darcy could hear the smile in her voice, though, at the confirmation, before Juliet slowly pulled back.
Not completely moving away from her, but enough to be able to look up at her face. Toreallylook at her, in the way that let Darcy know Juliet was seeing everything. Seeing right through her.
She stared right back, offering Juliet everything she had. Wanting her to see everything.
She didn’t expect Juliet’s very serious sigh. “Darcy, honey, I can’t believe I have to talk to you again about walking places alone at night.”
Darcy dropped her head back, laughing. Surprised by it, she let her amusement sweep her away because it felt so damn good.
Juliet didn’t join in on the laughter, nudging Darcy with her elbow. “I’mserious.”
“I know,” she acknowledged, managing to quell her chuckling by digging her teeth into her bottom lip. “I know you are. Because you worry about me.”
She managed to summon the same needling tone she’d used in the past when they’d talked about this.
But this time, Juliet didn’t roll her eyes or scoff. She held Darcy’s gaze with her own, setting her jaw. “Yes, I do. Therefore, Ineedyou to make smart decisions.”
Her amusement faded, melting away. Did she think Juliet slightly overreacted when it came to that? Yeah. Maybe not in L.A., but Pineford?! Regardless, Darcy saw her point, and if it made Juliet feel better about her safety, then, “Okay. I can do that.”
Juliet nodded in satisfaction, before she reached out and took Darcy’s hand in hers. “Now, come. I’m going to hold you.”
Who was Darcy to argue with that? Especially when she very much wanted to be held.
Darcy blinked,waking up a couple of hours later, not having realized she’d even fallen asleep.
But it made sense; she’d barely gotten any rest in the last couple of days. Then Juliet had pulled Darcy’s head onto her shoulder and stroked her fingers through her hair as they laid in bed, and all of the cracked, ragged edges inside of her had started to feel a little soothed.
Some tears had dripped from her eyes into Juliet’s shirt, and she’d then closed them, taking deep breaths.
And somewhere along the line, she’d dozed off.
Juliet was still stroking her fingers through her hair, and Darcy sighed, leaning even more into her touch.
“Feels good,” she murmured.
“That’s the goal,” Juliet whispered back.
It did feel good. Good enough that Darcy felt somewhat refreshed. Like she could finally engage with the world again.
With that, she turned to press a kiss to Juliet’s shoulder, and then pushed herself to sit up, rubbing her hands over her eyes. Which, for the first time in the last day and a half, didn’t feel dry – completely at-odds with the crying she’d had happening.
Juliet was perched against Darcy’s pillows, and she had the memoir Darcy had been reading last night when she’d been unable to sleep in her hand, now laying half-open against her side.
Darcy’s lips ticked into a smile. “Some light reading?”
The memoir was about a woman who had ended up splintering from her life and what she’d always pictured for herself, completely starting over. Darcy thought it was apt.
“Well, you fell asleep, and the book was here. It’s not bad.” Juliet shrugged, pushing herself up to sit with Darcy, their knees pressed together. She reached out, dropping her hands to Darcy’s thighs, gently squeezing. “Okay. Let’s discuss the elephant in the room.” She paused, frowning thoughtfully before clarifying, “The Blythe and Emerson elephant. How are you feeling?”
“I… don’t really know. I don’t,” she swallowed, tightly. But hey, she didn’t feel like she was about to cry at the thought, so that was an improvement. “I’m – this is my whole life. We, The Romantics. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever gotten a record deal or anything as just me. Just Darcy.”
There were so many variables to consider. So many unknowns that the dissolution of the band presented. She reallydidn’tknow where to start or how to tackle it.
Juliet’s eyebrows furrowed tightly together. The look in her eyes was so intense, like she couldn’t believe what Darcy was saying. “Please know that I’m not impugning Blythe and Emerson, here–”
Darcy interjected jokingly, “I thought you were mad at them?”
