sarahendrix

[sarahendrix]

sarah hated how easy it had become for people to read her, first lennon and now dream, and it made her angry at herself for being so weak, for letting anyone close enough to see through her walls—walls she had spent years building but that somehow her sister had managed to crack open just by coming back into her life; now she wasn’t the same girl she used to be, the one who kept everyone at arm’s length, and she resented that dream could see her too, “i’m not surviving, you don’t know me, dream, i’m not acting, this is me,” she snapped, her voice sharp but her gaze breaking away almost immediately as dream spoke about their own walls, about daring people to climb them, and it left her staring at the menu just to avoid those eyes that had too much power over her; when dream said she wouldn’t turn her into a metaphor because she was a person, not some story, sarah’s brows furrowed but she didn’t argue, even if that wasn’t the reason she avoided becoming someone’s words—it was easier to let it slide, easier to keep quiet, but the way dream said “us” made her bite the inside of her cheek and shake her head, “i’m not soft, that’s not like us then,” another wall stacking itself back up; she didn’t like reading, she never had, and maybe her struggles with it had always made it feel like a burden, but the way dream’s voice softened when she spoke made her uneasy in ways she didn’t want to admit; the barista’s arrival was a welcome distraction, though when dream teased lightly, sarah looked back at her and muttered, “i always order the same thing, i don’t usually eat breakfast, just coffee, always too late to have anything else,” and then the girl was there, someone sarah had hooked up with before, flashing her a grin that made her stomach twist, “black coffee, sarah?” the girl asked, and sarah nodded, “yes, no sugar,” only for the barista’s smirk to twist into something sharper, “you were never there when i woke up, and now you’re having coffee with someone?” she said, and sarah ignored the sting in her voice, forcing herself to turn back to dream instead, her tone flat but steady, “she wants a cupcake and… what else, dream?”

Dream had never been the kind of person to push — not because she wasn’t capable of standing her ground, but because she believed in people arriving at their own truth when they were ready. And when it came to Sarah, she saw more than what was being said. She saw the fear behind the bite, the tension in every shrug, the way her eyes darted like she was always preparing to be hurt. Dream didn’t flinch when Sarah snapped at her outside the coffee shop. Didn’t raise her voice. Just tilted her head slightly, calm and steady. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat and answered, voice low and even: “I don’t think you’re acting, Sarah. I think you’re surviving. And there’s a difference.” No judgment. No pity. Just truth — gentle, but grounded. “And I’m not sure of anything about you, not really. I just… I see someone who keeps raising walls and daring people to climb them, just to prove they won’t. That doesn’t mean I know you. It just means I’m not afraid to look.” Inside, while Sarah scanned the menu, Dream stayed patient. She didn’t try to fix the tension in the air — she let it exist. Sometimes people needed space to sit with themselves before they could sit with anyone else. “You don’t have to like what everyone else does. You don’t have to like anything, honestly,” she said, “But just because something’s popular doesn’t make it meaningless. Sometimes people fall in love with things because they finally feel seen there." And when Sarah warned, don’t make me into a character, Dream nodded, calm and careful. “Alright, I won’t,” she said sincerely. “You’re a person, not a metaphor. I get that.” She took a quiet breath, then smiled again — this time with something real behind it. “But yeah, I am writing something. And it’s about women like us. Messy. Brave. Sharp. Tired. Soft when no one’s looking.” She glanced over, her voice a little gentler now. “People who’ve been hurt but still show up.” Dream let the silence sit for a second, then added, “I write because I didn’t get stories like that growing up. And I think we all deserve to see someone like us make it through. A hero in their own right." She looked back at Sarah with eyes full of quiet care. Dream glanced up as the waitress made her way toward their table, then looked back at Sarah with a soft, curious smile. "Right," she said, voice warm, steady. "The barista is heading over. Already know what you're going to order, or are you going to panic-pick something and pretend it was your first choice?" She said it lightly, teasing just enough to ease the tension without making fun of her. "I might order a cupcake on the side," she said casually, her tone light but sincere. "I haven’t eaten yet. Have you?"

[sarahendrix]

her sister was reading her like a book and that alone made sarah want to crawl out of her own skin, because she’d spent years building walls and suddenly none of it mattered—lennon could still see her fear, her panic, the way being pregnant while still studying felt like standing on the edge of a cliff with no ground below; “maybe i’m just overwhelmed, scared and an awful human, lennon, you don’t know that,” she muttered, but she knew her sister did, because lennon always did, and when she let out a sad little laugh and asked if she was really that easy to read, it was like admitting defeat, like saying yes, i’m terrified, yes, i’ve screwed up before just to prove to our parents i could, yes, i keep making messes i don’t know how to clean; but then she chuckled at lennon’s words and nudged her, “what’s life without plot twists?” and the tiniest smile tugged at her lips because maybe this wasn’t just a disaster, maybe calling lennon had been the best decision she could’ve made; still, her voice broke when she whispered, “you’re not just saying that to make me feel better, right? how am i supposed to be a good mom? i don’t know what i’m doing, len,” and leaning into her sister’s arms felt like the first real breath she’d taken all day—until another wave of panic crashed over her, “i’m kinda seeing this girl… how the heck do i tell her i’m pregnant and i like her?” she blurted, before shaking her head at her own words, pacing and standing up because sitting still was impossible, “maybe i should just end it, tell her there’s nothing, stop it before anyone gets hurt, right?” her eyes were wide when they landed on lennon again, her voice cracking under the weight of it all, “that’s what i have to do, right? god.”

Lennon's arms wrapped tightly around her sister. “I’m not going anywhere,” Lennon had said — and she meant it like a vow. Sarah clung to her, and Lennon let her. No questions, no rushing. Just the slow, steady heartbeat of someone who loved her without condition. She could feel her sister trembling, feel the breathless terror running through her bones, and Lennon just kept holding on. When Sarah finally pulled away enough to speak, her voice was a whip made of self-loathing and sarcasm. Lennon didn’t smile at the joke. She saw straight through it. But she didn’t shut it down either. She brushed her hand gently over Sarah’s back. “You’re not awful,” Lennon said softly but firmly. “You’re overwhelmed. You’re scared. And maybe you made some wild choices, but that doesn’t make you bad. It makes you human.” She sat beside her, knees touching. Lennon didn’t pry — she just stayed close, just in case her sister needed a reason not to vanish into herself. “You want to be seen,” Lennon said softly. “That doesn’t make you awful, Sarah. That makes you hurting. And I see you. Not just the chaos — you. The girl who’s scared and angry and still trying to make jokes through the pain. You’re not dumb. You’re just… figuring it out. And yeah, maybe this isn’t what you imagined — but that doesn’t mean it can’t become something good.” When Sarah finally looked up, Lennon met her eyes with a quiet strength — not dramatic, not overbearing. Just steady. Just safe. Sarah's next comment Lennon snorted at, smirking despite herself. “Well, we were working on it,” she said, nudging Sarah lightly. “But damn, you really pulled a plot twist, huh?” Lennon reached over, threading her fingers gently through her sister’s. “Maybe,” she said, voice calm and warm. “But they’ll also be born into so much love." Then, when Sarah whispered her thank-you, Lennon squeezed her hand. “Always,” she said simply. “You call, I come. No matter what.” She pressed a tender kiss to Sarah’s head, lingering there for a heartbeat, her lips warm and steady against tangled hair. Then, in a voice low, sure, and full of love, she whispered, "This baby is going to have such a good mom in you. You already know what not to do, Sar. You know how it felt — and you’re not going to pass that on. You're going to break the cycle. I know you are." She wrapped her arm around Sarah’s shoulder, holding her close again, not letting her pull away — not from this truth, not from this hope. “You don’t have to be perfect,” Lennon added softly, “just real. And you’ve always been that.”

[sarahendrix]

sarah was sad, angry, furious, and scared all at once—so overwhelmed she didn’t even know how to let it all out. how could she, when she’d just found out she was pregnant after sleeping around with more people than she could count? when she crashed into lennon, her eyes closed tightly, trying to keep herself together, trying to breathe. lennon was promising she wasn’t going anywhere, and sarah believed her, but that didn’t make the terror disappear. she clung to her sister like she’d fall apart the second she let go, like staying grounded depended entirely on that hug. she tried to calm herself down, but how could she, when everything she thought she knew about her life had just shattered? sitting down, her arms wrapped around herself, she fought back tears, using jokes like armor, trying to look like she didn’t care—trying to rebuild her walls one brick at a time. “i’m awful, that’s how i’d describe myself,” she said, nodding. “i don’t want to tell mom,” she added, “but the idea of making her angry is kind of tempting.” she tried to laugh like it would make any of this easier. “first of all, stop with the pep talk. i’m not strong, not brave, and this... this isn’t smart,” she said, her voice cracking. “i’m an asshole, i’m dumb, and i just want people to look at me, react to me, and this is what i get.” she shook her head, unable to believe herself. when lennon brushed her leg gently, sarah finally looked up. “it does sound crazy,” she whispered. “especially considering i always thought i’d be the aunt first, you know, with you and your two hot partners,” she tried to joke again. she wiped the tears off her cheeks. “this kid’s gonna have more aunts and uncles than most,” she said, her voice softening. “born out of chaos and probably walking through it their whole life,” she added, a dry laugh escaping her. “thanks for coming, len.”

Lennon had never seen Sarah like this—shattered, furious, breaking apart in slow, violent waves. The anger in her sister’s eyes was only barely hiding the fear underneath. When Sarah knocked over the bin, Lennon didn’t flinch. She just stepped forward quietly, her hand brushing Sarah’s arm with a kind of careful gentleness that didn’t ask for permission. She watched as Sarah turned to face her, that hardened look faltering for just a second. Lennon didn’t say anything at first—she just held on, grounding her hands on Sarah’s shoulders like an anchor, waiting until her sister’s breath hitched and her guard cracked. Lennon’s heart clenched, but she didn’t interrupt. She just stayed there, steady, her grip never leaving Sarah’s shoulders. Lennon met her gaze, eyes soft but unwavering. “You don’t have to have it all figured out,” she said. “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what you decide—baby or not—I’m with you. I promise that." Lennon knew the journey ahead wasn't going to be an easy one. Sarah let out a shaky breath, and Lennon could see how badly she’d needed a hug. The tension in her body released all at once, and when Lennon told her not to shut them out, she saw it hit—hard. Lennon didn’t try to fix it with empty words. She just opened her arms as Sarah stepped into them, clinging tight like she was afraid to let go. Lennon held her just as tightly. She rubbed her back gently as she pulled away, watching her sister try to gather herself, pull the broken pieces back into something that looked like strength. She let her go, not pushing, just staying close as Sarah walked over and sat on the closed toilet, her arms wrapped around her middle like she was still trying to hold something in. Lennon let out a breath that was almost a laugh, sad and soft. “You’re awful,” she said with a small smirk, moving to sit beside her. “But that’s exactly why you’re not doing this alone." Lennon glanced over at her sister, her voice calm but steady. “It’s up to you if you want to tell Mom,” she said gently, “but I know she’ll say something dumb like she always does.” She reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind Sarah’s ear. “Things aren’t going to be easy, sis… but you’re strong, and brave, and smart. You’ll make the right decisions when you need to—I believe that.” Lennon let out a quiet breath, the corner of her mouth twitching into the faintest smile. She nudged Sarah’s knee gently with her own and said, “Auntie Lennon though. Crazy, huh?” Her voice was light, teasing—but there was a warmth behind it, something steady and real.

[sarahendrix]

sarah didn’t know why she had agreed to get coffee with dream—didn’t know why she had even stopped when she bumped into her. she hated herself for it. now everything was complicated. now dream wanted to take her out, and for what? a hookup? a pity conversation? she wasn’t going to let her pay for her coffee—she never let anyone do that. that would mean caring, or letting someone care about her, and she had drawn that line a long time ago. she could feel dream trying to see past her, trying to read into her, and she hated that she’d cracked, hated that she’d filled the silence with a stupid comment. “why?” she snapped. “why do you want me to stop acting or whatever it is you think i’m doing? i’m not acting. i don’t know why you’re so sure i don’t know who i am.” her voice was sharper than she meant, and she hated herself for being so cold to someone like dream—someone soft, sweet, the kind of girl who made her stomach twist just by getting flustered. she was such an asshole. inside the coffee shop, sarah crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she scanned the menu. “it doesn’t,” she said quietly, “but if you want to see it that way, go for it.” she glanced sideways. “that’s cool, i guess. i’m not into reading,” she shrugged, “but i know a lot of people are. i see those tiktok reviews, people falling for whatever’s trendy—cowboys, hockey players, porn fairies,” she added dryly. when dream looked at her after mentioning writing about women loving women, sarah immediately looked away. “don’t make me into a character,” she warned, trying to sound less harsh, maybe even teasing. “but that’s a good idea. most stories are about straight couples. you could help people by writing that.” then, softer, curious in spite of herself, “i’m going to guess you’re already writing something?”

Dream didn’t argue when Sarah insisted on paying for her own drink. She could sense the subtle tension behind it—this unspoken line Sarah was drawing, like letting someone else pay meant giving away control, meant needing something she didn’t want to need. Dream understood that kind of boundary better than most, so she just nodded, letting it go without making it a thing. She stayed gentle, patient. She didn’t know much about Sarah either, not really—except that there was something underneath all that sharpness, something scared, something tired. And she cared. Maybe too quickly, maybe too easily, but she did. That was a green flag of Dream's personality. So when Sarah said, Everyone is, in response to Dream trying to explain that she wasn’t just a one-night stand or someone good in bed, Dream didn’t flinch. Her voice was soft, but honest. “I’m not trying to fix you, Sarah” she said. “I just want to be someone you don’t have to perform for.” When she confessed that her own reality wasn’t what she wanted, and Sarah replied, Dream blinked, surprised by the insight. There was warmth in that moment—brief, fleeting—but real. "Exactly. I'm working towards my own personal growth." Sarah's compliment hit Dream harder than she expected. Compliments always did. She smiled shyly, biting back the instinct to deflect. “Thank you,” Dream murmured, her voice catching a little. At the door, Sarah opened it for her, and though she didn’t say anything, the gesture alone spoke more than she probably meant it to. Dream walked in beside her, the silence stretching again until Sarah finally asked what she studied in a tone that made Dream glance over, amused. Dream gave her a crooked smile, amused but not mocking. “Well, you’re trying. That counts.” She paused for a beat, then added, “English lit. And gender studies. Not a surprise, I know.” She let out a soft laugh, brushing a hand through her hair. “I like stories,” she said. “Especially the ones where girls like us get to have something soft for once. I want to write about women being in love with other women. Dream glanced over at Sarah, a playful glint in her eyes as a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Who knows?” she said softly, tilting her head just a little. “Maybe I’ll make you into a character.” Her voice was light, teasing—but underneath, there was a quiet sincerity, like the idea wasn’t entirely a joke. Like maybe she already had.

[sarahendrix]

as dream agreed to let her pay for her own drink, sarah felt a small wave of relief. paying for someone else’s stuff outside of a party setting meant commitment. that wasn’t something she wanted—why would she want dream to pay for something for her? at least the other girl had been either honest or a good liar about paying. that was something sarah didn’t know how to cope with; she didn’t need people taking care of her—she knew how to do that. that’s what she had always done. her attempt to fill the awkward silence only made things a little weirder. she didn’t know dream—the only things she knew were that she was pretty, seemed to care, was trying to get her to open up, and was good in bed. that was it. what else could she say to fill the silence? "everyone is," she said as dream told her she was more than a one-night stand or someone good in bed. as the other girl confessed that her reality wasn’t what she wanted, sarah nodded. "it’s not about what people complain about, it’s about what you want," she added. "i don’t know how many can say that, but you’re the prettiest one," she said with a soft smile before looking straight ahead. as they reached the door, she opened it for the girl beside her. she didn’t say anything else after that—she honestly wasn’t good at conversation. she didn’t have that sweet edge dream had; she was all sharp edges. "what do you study?" she asked in a poor attempt to keep the conversation going so the silence wouldn’t take over the room. "conversations aren’t my thing."

"Deal. I didn’t bring enough change out with me to get two drinks anyway." Dream paused at Sarah’s blunt comment, raising an eyebrow as she processed the words. Sarah, so guarded and sharp in her own way, had always been a mystery to Dream. Her walls were high, her defenses impenetrable. But Dream could see through them, at least a little—she could feel the undercurrent of something else beneath Sarah’s anger and indifference. With a quiet laugh, Dream’s lips curled into a half-smile, her eyes softening. "Thanks," she said, the words a bit lighter than they should’ve been, considering the tension between them. "But I’m more than that, you know." The words hung in the air for a moment, an invitation of sorts, though Dream didn’t press. She didn’t need to. Sarah had her own way of showing she cared—fierce, guarded, and strangely honest in her own way. Dream glanced at Sarah, her voice steady but with a hint of self-awareness. "I’m good in bed with the wrong equipment that I want. Might as well use it while I can though, right?" She said it matter-of-factly, as though acknowledging a truth she had learned to live with, but there was a touch of something unspoken beneath the words—something raw and real. Dream’s words came out quietly, but with an undeniable certainty. “One day, I want what you’ve got,” she said, her voice steady, as if it was something she had been thinking about for a long time. “And then I’ll be living my whole truth. But what I have works for the time being." Dream’s voice was steady, a quiet confidence in her words. “No complaints from other people so far. Maybe it’s a surprise and it’s a tension breaker, for sure. I’m pretty, and I currently have a dick." She said it without shame, without the need for validation, as though the words didn’t need further explanation. Being trans wasn’t something she tiptoed around—it just was, part of who she was. There was something about the way she said it that made it clear: this was her truth, and she owned it completely. "Not many girls can say that, huh?"

[sarahendrix]

sarah was extremely mad. she had fucked her life up by trying to make her parents mad, her own pettiness had landed her in that bathroom, crying over the fact she was pregnant with someone's baby—someone she didn’t even know. the way her anger bubbled inside made her knock over the bin she had thrown the test into. she wanted to scream, cry, and collapse on the floor all at once. that was too much. as she felt lennon's hand on her arm, she turned to face her sister, her tough exterior melting away. she wanted to pull away, she wanted to be left alone—or at least that’s what she thought. she looked at her sister as she told her to listen. she let out a sigh as she felt her sister’s hands gently grasping her shoulders. her mind was rushing, her heart pounding, but she stopped for a second. she looked at lennon, her eyes filled with tears she was battling to keep from falling, pure anger and panic running through her veins. "of course i’m the worst thing, how the hell am i going to take care of a kid if i’ve never done that, if i don’t know who the dad is... if i don’t even know how the hell to take care of myself?" she panicked. "if i knew how to take care of me, i wouldn’t be in this situation," she said. as her sister assured her she wasn’t going anywhere, whether she decided to have the baby or not, sarah let out a shaky breath—air that had gotten stuck in her throat. when her sister told her not to shut them out, a sharp pain filled her chest. "but this is a big mistake, lennon," she pointed out, "a huge mistake." a tear fell down her cheek as she wrapped her arms around lennon, pulling her in tight. "thanks, lennon," she whispered, biting down on her lower lip and letting out a sigh before stepping back, trying to build the strength to stop crying, to stop looking so lost. she walked over and sat on top of the closed toilet. she let out another sigh. "at least if mom finds out, she’s going to panic, right?" she tried to joke. "maybe i should send her the test so she can call me panicking, that’d be fun."

Lennon’s heart ached as she watched Sarah fall apart in front of her. She knew her sister was angry, confused, and afraid, but seeing the raw pain in her eyes made Lennon want to take it all away, to fix it somehow. She’d always been the one Sarah could lean on, even when things were messy, and this felt no different. She stepped forward, her hand gently reaching out to Sarah’s arm again, this time a little firmer, pulling her sister’s attention back to her. Lennon’s voice was soft but steady as she spoke, trying to ground her sister, to give her a little space to breathe. "Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here," she said, her tone full of love and understanding, though her heart was racing with worry for Sarah. She watched Sarah pace, her hands trembling all over the place and her words spilling out in a rush of panic. Lennon took a deep breath, knowing that now wasn’t the time to push or give advice that wasn’t wanted. Sarah wasn’t asking for solutions, not yet. She was just spiraling. And Lennon, as always, was there to catch her before she fell too far. "Listen to me," Lennon said, stepping in front of her sister, hands gently grasping her shoulders, steadying her. “You’re not the worst thing that could happen to a baby, Sarah. You’re not. You're just scared, and I get it. But you’re strong. You’ve always been strong. And you’re not alone in this." She gave Sarah a moment to absorb her words before continuing, her voice calm, but full of conviction. "You don’t have to have all the answers right now. It’s okay to feel lost, to feel angry, but you don’t have to carry this by yourself. You’ve got me. And whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. You’re not going to ruin everything, okay? You’re not. And if you decide to keep this baby, I’ll be right here, every step of the way. I promise." Lennon took a small step back, giving Sarah space to breathe but never leaving her side. "But you don’t have to decide right this second. You’re allowed to feel scared, to be unsure. What matters is that you know you have people who love you, and we’ll help you navigate this. Just... don’t shut us out, okay?" She paused, her voice softening. "You’re not a screw-up. You’re just... human. And you’re allowed to make mistakes and learn from them." Lennon’s eyes softened, her expression full of empathy and love as she met Sarah’s gaze, willing her sister to see that she wasn’t alone, that whatever happened next, Lennon was right there beside her. Lennon gently wrapped her arms around Sarah, pulling her into a warm hug. She pressed a soft kiss on the top of her sister’s head, a gesture full of love and reassurance. Pulling back just enough to look Sarah in the eyes, Lennon smiled and said, "I love you, and whatever decision you make is yours to make. I'll support you."

[sarahendrix]

SADIE STANLEY via tiktok

[sarahendrix]

sarah had never been good with feelings—not with other people’s, and definitely not with her own. she’d learned to keep everything locked up, ignored whatever wasn’t rage or indifference, because those were the only emotions she knew how to handle. she hated her family, and she used sex to forget, leaving without a word like it meant nothing—because to her, it couldn’t mean anything. that was how dream ended up collateral damage. when dream told her she didn’t get to decide who she cared about, sarah had furrowed her brows, caught off guard by how raw and honest that response was. if it had been her, she would’ve started a fight, pushed until the other person hated her back. she didn’t understand why dream hadn’t just walked away already. when dream agreed to get coffee, sarah nodded quickly, "i'm not letting you pay for my thing, you get yours and i get mine," like accepting a drink came with some kind of silent promise she wasn’t ready to make. she followed her like a stray—angry, bitter, but following anyway. when dream bumped her shoulder and kept walking, sarah paused for a second, confused by the casual contact, by the way it made her exhale like she’d been holding her breath the whole time. she walked up beside her again but didn’t speak for a few minutes. she didn’t know anything about dream, not really—but for some reason, she cared. "you’re good in bed," she said finally, awkward and blunt, because that was the only thing she knew for sure about her, and even that felt like it didn't mean too much

Dream stood still. She didn’t flinch as Sarah pushed back—desperately, angrily, the way someone does when they're trying to stop themselves from falling apart. Dream had seen that look before, in others, but on Sarah, it cracked something open in her. And still, she didn’t move. She just looked at her. She listened, taking in the sharp edges of Sarah’s words, her rejection wrapped in defense mechanisms and self-loathing. Dream didn’t take it personally. It wasn’t about her. It never had been. “Look,” she said, “you don’t get to tell me who I can care about.” There was no heat in it, no drama—just truth. Quiet, unwavering, and meant to stay. She watched the chaos in Sarah’s eyes, the weight in her chest practically radiating outward. Dream didn’t need Sarah to say it—she could see it all written in her body language, her eyes, the tremble in her voice when she tried to play it cool. I just want coffee. But they both knew that wasn’t the truth. Still, Dream nodded. She didn’t call her out, didn’t challenge her with some dramatic line. She just tilted her head slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “Okay,” she said simply. “Let’s go.” She turned, walking just slow enough for Sarah to catch up if she wanted. Dream didn’t need a confession. She just needed a start. Dream let a small smirk tug at the corner of her lips, her tone light but laced with affection as she glanced back at Sarah. “What’s your coffee order again? I’ll pay for it,” she said, casually slipping her hands into her pockets. “God knows you could use one.” It was teasing, just enough to soften the tension—but behind it, there was care. The kind that didn’t need to be loud to be real. She stood still and waited. “Maybe a coffee will help shift your crankiness,” she said, letting the words land with a teasing lilt. She bumped her shoulder lightly against Sarah’s, just enough to pull a small reaction—maybe even a smile—before looking ahead again like she hadn’t said anything at all.

[sarahendrix]

this wasn’t what was supposed to happen. sleeping around wasn’t supposed to have side effects—not feelings, not consequences, not this. it was just supposed to piss off her parents, not turn her life upside down. she hadn’t even enjoyed most of it, not really—it was just a way to rebel, to act out. and now she was pregnant. no clue who the father was. no idea what the hell she was supposed to do. all she could feel was rage, hot and heavy in her chest, like it was going to explode. she wanted to smash the mirror in front of her, wanted to scream, but nothing would fix this. not another distraction, not another hookup. "this shouldn't have happened, lennon," she said, turning to her sister, her voice sharp and loud—too loud, even though it wasn’t lennon’s fault. she flinched at the touch on her arm, almost pulling away, but didn’t. she just stood there, trembling, staring at her sister with wide, panicked eyes. "this shouldn't have happened," she repeated, her voice cracking this time. she ran her hands through her hair and started pacing, her breath uneven, her body buzzing with anger and fear. "i don't know if i want it," she said, shaking her head, the words choking in her throat. "it's not like playing with dolls. if i’ve already screwed up everything in my life, how the hell do i know i won't ruin this too?" her voice rose again, not at lennon, but at herself. "i'm probably the worst thing that could happen to a baby." she kicked the trash bin, the loud thud echoing through the bathroom like a scream. "and what, i raise a kid on my own? what if i have a kid and just... fuck everything up again, lennon?"

It hurt to see Sarah like this, so small and scared, like the weight of it all was about to crush her. Lennon sat down beside her without a word, slow and careful, reaching out with a hand that hovered for a second before resting gently on Sarah’s shoulder. And when Sarah finally let out the breath she’d been holding, Lennon felt it—like the air in the room shifted, like they’d crossed some invisible line. She watched Sarah crumble in her arms, clinging to her with a desperation Lennon hadn’t seen in a long time. The sob against her neck broke her heart clean in two. She held her tighter, her voice soft and steady when she said they’d take it one step at a time. It was all she could offer in the chaos—something small to hold on to. When Lennon asked the question, the one that had to be asked, Sarah pulled back slightly. Her voice cracked with uncertainty. No. And then the words tumbled out—confused, lost, raw. Lennon didn’t push. She just listened. She watched as Sarah threw the tests into the bin like they might disappear if she was angry enough. Then came the kick, the cry, the brutal truth laid bare. “You don’t have to be like Mom was to us though, Sarah.” She said it gently, but there was no mistaking the strength in her words. Her eyes locked onto her sister’s, not to confront—but to ground. To remind her that the cycle could stop here, with her. Lennon reached out again, her voice calm despite the chaos around them, her hand brushing Sarah’s arm with quiet reassurance. “It’s going to be hard,” she said softly, “but you have me. I’m here.” She let the silence settle for a moment, then asked, carefully, “Is the baby something you want?” There was no judgment in her tone—just love. Just Lennon, standing steady in the middle of it all, offering a place to land.

[sarahendrix]

she didn’t want to even look at her sister. she felt ashamed. she felt scared. if she looked at lennon it would mean that it was happening, that she had called her sister because she got a couple of pregnancy tests. she was terrified. as lennon sat next to her and her hand reached to place her hand on her shoulder, she let out the air she had been holding. she couldn’t believe it was happening to her. she was lost. as she felt lennon’s arms wrapping around her, she hugged her sister tightly, letting out a sob as she buried her face against the crook of her neck. there was something in the way lennon said they would take it one step at a time that made her feel slightly better but, it didn’t work that way, she fucked up. at her question sarah pulled away slightly. "no" she shook her head, "i don’t know who could it be, lennon" she shook her head, a tear running down her cheek. she stood up, so many emotions happening all at the same time. "it’s all mom’s fault" she mused, rage dropping from her lips. she took the tests and threw them aggressively inside the bin. that was somehow true, but she was the one who made a mistake. "i hate her" she cried, now kicking the plastic bin, making it tumble and fall, revealing the test once more. "i’m fucked"

Lennon stepped into the room, her usual confident stride faltering when she saw the state Sarah was in. The moment she caught sight of her, sitting there with the pregnancy test on the sink, Lennon’s stomach dropped. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. She paused by the door, taking in Sarah’s expression—blank, lost, and scared. When Sarah’s shaky voice broke through the silence, Lennon felt a tightness in her chest. She quickly crossed the room, sitting beside her little sister, her eyes softening with concern. “Sarah,” Lennon said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, breathe." Lennon’s voice was steady, trying to ground Sarah, but inside, she was trying to hold it together too. She knew this was going to be tough. It wasn’t the kind of thing you figured out in an hour, but she’d stay as long as Sarah needed. “We’ll take it one step at a time,” she reassured, giving her a small, comforting squeeze. Lennon's arms wrapped around her little sister who she knew was going to be going through a turmoil of different emotions. She pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Do we know who's it is?"

[sarahendrix]

sarah was desperately trying to push her away, there was something in her that somehow managed to make its way into her cracks, she didn’t want that. she didn’t want dream knowing how she felt. she would have left if someone had talked to her the way she did, but there was dream, standing there looking at her as if there wasn’t anything wrong with her, even if that was just a lie. and she couldn’t leave, she was there pouring her heart out as if she knew dream, as if the other was more than just a past hookup that she had ignored. everything would have been easier if dream had slapped her across the face, told her she was an asshole for doing what she did and just walked away, but she didn’t seem like the type of person who would ever do that. maybe it was the way she looked at her, the patience — that was what was making the girl crack. she didn’t know what it was but in that moment sarah was feeling so many things and she didn’t know how to even react. she had started talking and couldn’t even stop herself. the one thing she knew was that she didn’t want her knowing — why would she? so she could hurt her. she had been really clear about how she worked, but she didn’t know if that would be enough to make the other leave. as she told her she cared, sarah shook her head. "no, dream, you can’t care about me, you shouldn’t even try this" she shook her head. she let out a sigh, why couldn’t she just leave. she hated herself for asking for coffee — who even was that? she felt a pressure in her chest, she wanted to scream, cry, and walk away all at the same time. she could say she didn’t want a normal conversation but why in the world had she asked for coffee if deep down that wasn’t what she wanted. "you don’t know that" she shook her head. "i just want coffee, don’t think i’ll talk about my feelings or anything as if you were my therapist" she pointed out, she was being too harsh. she always was. "let’s go"

Dream listened closely, her gaze never wavering from Sarah, even as the other girl tried to push her away, walling herself up like she always did. Dream could feel the tension in the air, the way Sarah's words dripped with deflection, each one a plea for Dream to back off. But Dream wasn’t going to back down that easily. She could see through the walls Sarah built, could hear the pain in her voice even when she masked it with her tough exterior. It wasn’t that Dream was trying to invade or force Sarah to talk—she just knew there was more beneath the surface, something that needed to be said, something Sarah wasn’t letting herself face. And that frustrated Dream, because she knew how it felt to keep everything buried inside. When Sarah muttered that she was fine, Dream’s heart sank. She wanted to reach out, to grab Sarah by the shoulders and make her understand that she didn’t have to carry all this on her own. But instead, Dream stayed still, a quiet understanding in her eyes. Sarah was so used to pretending, to running from her feelings, but Dream couldn’t ignore how much pain was behind that mask. She wasn’t going to let Sarah push her away without trying to reach her, though. As Sarah shook her head, rejecting her offer, Dream’s expression softened. She could feel the anger radiating off her, could see the way she was shutting down. But Dream wasn’t angry, just patient. I don’t know you? Dream thought. Maybe not. But I want to. When Sarah said she didn’t like talking about herself, Dream gave a small, quiet nod. She didn’t need to hear all the details, she didn’t need to know everything—she just wanted Sarah to know that she mattered. That’s why Dream kept listening. Because no one should have to carry all that weight alone. “I know I don’t know everything about you, Sarah,” Dream finally said, her voice calm, but unwavering. “But I want to. I care, whether you like it or not. You don’t have to talk about anything you’re not ready for, but I’m here. I’ll listen when you are.” When Sarah finally spoke again, Dream didn’t hesitate. She let a small, knowing smile tug at her lips, relieved that Sarah was opening up, even if just a little. “Coffee sounds good to me,” she said softly. “We don’t have to talk about anything. Just normal conversations if that's what you need." Dream could be her friend if she needed one. “I’m not asking you to be anything or do anything, Sarah,” Dream continued, her tone soft but firm. “I’m not trying to change you. I’m just offering to be your friend… if that’s what you want. No pressure. You're also hurting yourself enough on your own," Dream added quietly, her voice almost a whisper. "And you don’t have to keep doing that either."

[sarahendrix]

sarah was sitting on the toilet, her eyes blank. this couldn’t be happening. the pregnancy test was sitting on the sink, staring back at her. she’d fucked up. it was one thing to freak out about a uti—she’d been scared like that before—but this? this was something else. she was pregnant. and she had no idea who the father was. no idea what the fuck she was supposed to do. she had texted lennon, asking her to come to her dorm room. she’d been sitting there for an hour, lost in her thoughts, stuck. when someone knocked on the door, she barely flinched. "it’s open," she yelled, knowing her roommate wasn’t home. that’s why she hadn’t bothered locking it. when lennon walked in, sara finally looked up at her. tears were already threatening to fall. "lennon," she said, her voice shaking. "i fucked up." @lennon-hendrix

[sarahendrix]

sarah hated how dream seemed to read her like a book, her walls slowly crumbling, and she couldn't stand how easily the girl was seeing through them. she felt small, and while others might feel relieved by that, she didn’t. if people knew why she hurt, they could hurt her even more. she didn’t want to open up, didn’t want to risk getting hurt. why was dream listening to her? why did she care to hear what sarah had to say? it made her mad—dream was getting her to open up about things she didn’t want to without even trying. why was she feeling this way? she didn’t need to talk about it, she was fine with keeping her emotions bottled up. "thanks, but i'm fine," she muttered, trying to rebuild her walls. "thanks for the offer, but talking is overrated," she shook her head. she’d managed fine the last couple of years with her feelings buried deep inside. she knew she'd be fine, no matter what happened. she wanted to push the idea of opening up to someone away, didn’t want to even think about it. "sorry, dream, but you don’t know the person you’re trying to see. you don’t know anything about me," she shook her head. "you don’t know anything about her," she added with a sigh. "dream, you’re sweet, but you know this isn’t going to happen, right?" she asked softly. "i don’t like talking about me, and i won’t let you care enough to know me," she mused. "that’s how i work," she whispered. "that’s how i make sure no one can hurt me." she looked away, a tear slipping down her face, which she quickly wiped away. maybe dream was right—maybe she needed someone to confide in, but it wasn’t going to be easy. sarah went silent for a moment before speaking again. "can we grab coffee?"

Dream could see it—the hesitation in Sarah's eyes, the way she struggled with her own vulnerability. She was pulling away again, just like the first time, but this time it felt different. Dream noticed the small tremors in Sarah’s words, the way her breath caught before she spoke. There was a conflict there, one Dream could feel in her bones. Sarah didn’t want to open up. She didn’t want to be the girl who admitted weakness, who asked for help, or who needed anything. But Dream wasn’t going to let her slip away this time, not when Sarah was this close to breaking through. She listened without interrupting, without judgment, giving Sarah space to let her emotions. Dream didn’t know how it happened, but somehow, Sarah’s walls had cracked just enough for Dream to see the parts of her that no one else had ever touched—maybe not even Sarah herself. And when Sarah apologised, Dream’s heart softened. She had a sense of what Sarah was going through, the guilt, the inability to deal with everything she'd buried deep inside. Dream couldn’t just ignore it, couldn’t turn away when someone was so desperately trying to hold themselves together. When Sarah tensed at her offer, Dream didn’t push. She simply nodded, her gaze steady but warm. "I know," she said softly, her voice gentle as she looked at Sarah. "You don’t have to tell me anything. You’re allowed to keep your distance. I’m not here to force you to open up. But I am here... if you ever want to talk." When Sarah spoke again, her voice was laced with a quiet honesty, and Dream’s heart ached for her. She didn’t get it—of course she didn’t. How could she? But Dream wasn’t doing this out of obligation or pity. No, it was something deeper, something she couldn’t quite name either, but it wasn’t about owing or paying back. Dream leaned forward slightly, her eyes soft and unwavering as she met Sarah’s gaze. "I’m doing this because I care about people," she said simply, her voice steady but sincere. "I’m here because I see you. I see past the walls you’ve built, and I see the person you’re trying so hard to protect." She gave Sarah a small, understanding smile, her fingers unconsciously reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from Sarah’s face. "And maybe you don’t owe me anything. But I don’t need you to owe me anything. I’m here because you matter, even if you can’t see it right now." Dream’s voice softened, the intensity of her words replaced with quiet affection. "I’ve been in that place," she said softly, her tone thick with understanding. "Where I didn’t have anyone, where life felt like it was against me. Where I thought I had nobody left." Her fingers brushed the fabric of her own sleeve absentmindedly, the weight of her own past grounding her words. "But what I’ve learned is that everybody needs someone to confide in."

[sarahendrix]

✧ sarah's antics ✧

"sarah, don't you dare leave!" her mother's voice echoed through the house, sharp and desperate, but it was too late. the door slammed shut behind her, loud enough to make the walls shake. it was supposed to be a calm night — at least, that’s what sarah had convinced herself. she would go over to her parents' house because they asked her to, sit through dinner, keep her mouth shut, avoid giving them any real pieces of her life, and leave before things got messy. simple. easy. but of course, they couldn’t let that happen. they had to bring up that news story. someone had been attacked, and instead of showing an ounce of empathy, her parents — her own parents — chose the wrong side, as if it wasn’t even a question. like it was normal. like it was okay. sarah's blood boiled. she could still feel her heart pounding against her ribs, the kind of anger that made her fingertips tingle, that left her breathless. she didn’t know why she hadn’t expected it — she should’ve known better — but still, the way it hit her felt like a punch to the stomach. and now, here she was, storming away from the only people who should have been on her side. she knew the drill. they would call her next week, pretending like nothing happened, expecting her to show up to their weekly dinner, to sit there and smile like a good daughter.

but tonight? tonight she needed to forget. she made it to the bus stop, catching the first bus that would take her anywhere near campus. and instead of going to her dorm, instead of sitting alone and letting herself cry — because she could feel that lump building in her throat — she did what she knew best. she found a party.

it was loud, filled with music that made the floor vibrate, people laughing, bottles clinking. just what she needed to drown everything out. sarah grabbed a glass, throwing back a shot without even thinking, feeling the sharp burn in her throat. she wanted to feel something other than the rage and hurt swirling in her chest. that’s when she saw him — some guy across the room, watching her with that kind of cocky smile, the one guys give when they think they’ve already won. she stared back, tilting her head slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. she downed another shot, eyes never leaving his. he started walking over, slow and confident, like he owned the place. "hey," he said, voice smooth, leaning in close enough that she could smell his cologne. she gave him that sweet, practiced smile, the one she knew would get her what she wanted. "hi," she answered softly, tilting her head, pretending to be innocent. "do you need anything?" she asked, her voice a little breathy, just enough to reel him in. he grinned, the kind of grin that told her everything she needed to know. "i could need you," he said, like he thought he was clever. of course. he was probably some jock, out here trying to win a bet with his buddies, probably dared to hook up with as many girls as possible before the season was over. sarah didn’t care. she wasn’t here for a fairytale. she wasn’t here for love. she was here to forget. it didn’t take long before he was guiding her to some empty room upstairs. as soon as the door clicked shut, she was pinned against the wall, their clothes hitting the floor in seconds.

when it was over, and she was pulling her dress back over her body, she felt... empty. but at least her mind wasn’t racing anymore. "that was really hot," he said, still laying there like he thought he had impressed her. "knew you were gonna be a cool chick," he added, grinning. sarah laughed dryly, adjusting her straps as she looked down at him. "agreeing about pulling out isn't cool, it’s desperate. which is what we both were. so now, you can go back to your stupid friends," she said with a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. she turned toward the door, pausing just long enough to throw one last jab over her shoulder. "and don’t smile. it wasn’t even that good. i saw your face — what, were you counting dead presidents to last longer? because honestly, you looked like you were gonna cum the second you picked me up." her voice was sharp, cold. she didn’t care if she crushed his ego. she wanted to.

before he could say anything, she yanked open the door and walked out, her heels clicking against the floor. she made her way back to her dorm, locking the door behind her, sliding down to sit on the floor as her head fell back against the wood. her chest felt heavy. this wasn’t what she wanted. she didn’t feel powerful or in control. she felt like trash. like she had used her body to silence her mind, and now that silence was cracking apart. and the worst part? she knew exactly who to blame. her parents — for making her feel like a stranger in her own family. for reminding her, yet again, that she didn’t belong.

[sarahendrix]

sarah wanted to run. the same way she had felt herself cracking when she first reconnected with her sister, she felt it now—like she couldn’t control the words spilling from her lips. dream was listening, really listening, but knowing she was saying things she had sworn to keep secret made her want to bolt. she didn’t want to keep opening up. she preferred being the girl who didn’t talk about feelings, the girl who slept around and never needed permission. but with dream looking at her the way she did, it was making her break apart. she felt guilty. guilty for leaving after they slept together, guilty for not being there when dream woke up. something that, if she had ever felt in the past, she had buried so deep that it never mattered by morning. when dream told her she didn’t have to apologize, sarah furrowed her brows. but she did. she felt like she had to. she had been a bitch to someone who was more like an angel. and when dream said she was there if she ever needed to talk, sarah tensed. she didn’t want that. she didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to open up. she didn’t need relationships. she didn’t need people who wanted to take care of her. the idea of someone caring about her that much made something inside her twist, made her shake her head softly. "thanks, but i’m okay," she promised, even though she knew it was a lie. she felt trapped, trapped by her own personality, her own walls. "thanks," she said again, quieter this time, even though she already knew she wasn’t going to tell anyone about any of this. her gaze dropped for a second before she spoke again. "i don’t get it, though," she admitted. "you keep saying i have a friend in you and all, but after the way i treated you, you could’ve just slapped me and walked away." she paused, studying dream, her voice laced with something she wasn’t sure she wanted to name. "why are you doing this?" her fingers curled slightly against her palms, and for the first time, her voice betrayed a hint of insecurity, something she usually kept buried under sarcasm and indifference. "you don’t owe me anything."

Dream watched Sarah with quiet attention, her eyes soft and her posture relaxed, despite the tension hanging in the air. She’d seen other people with that followed the same patterns as Sarah before, the way she deflected and built walls around herself. It was clear Sarah was caught in a cycle she couldn’t break, a way of living that made her feel trapped but also strangely numb to the consequences. Dream could feel the weight of her guilt, even if Sarah tried to mask it with her usual bravado. She wasn't stupid. When Sarah apologised, Dream’s heart shifted. She hadn’t expected it—not from Sarah, not after everything. She’d never judged Sarah, not for the things she did or the way she tried to fill the empty spaces with fleeting moments. Dream just wanted to be there, to listen. She always had. Dream knew what it was like to feel disconnected, to chase something. But seeing Sarah open up, even if just a crack, made Dream realise how much she wanted to help. “Hey,” Dream said softly, stepping closer, her voice gentle. “You don’t need to apologise for any of it.” She paused, watching Sarah carefully, giving her space but still offering that quiet support. “I’m not mad. I just… I don’t know. I’m just here. If you need to talk, or if you don’t, it’s okay." Dream wasn’t going anywhere. She understood the fear in Sarah’s voice, the hesitance that clung to her words, but Dream could also see the small, vulnerable part of her trying to make sense of everything. "You're human. We all run and hide from what scares us sometimes." Before she transitioned, Dream had struggled with the unrelenting pressure of fitting into the mold others had built for her. She had been expected to be something she wasn’t, forced to wear a mask and play a part in a story that didn’t belong to her. The dissonance between who she was inside and who the world saw was suffocating. But somewhere along the way, Dream had found the courage to make the change, to break free from the lies she’d lived. “Whatever you need,” Dream said quietly, her voice steady but filled with warmth. “You got a friend in me. I'm not going anywhere."

[sarahendrix]

sarah had promised herself she wouldn’t open up, that she’d keep herself from being hurt again, but the way lennon wanted to hear about her and bring back something they once shared was making her walls crumble faster than she liked. she hated that something so simple could break through her defenses, but the feeling of having her sister with her again was more important than anything else. at lennon’s mention of love being hard, sarah sighed—probably the only real love she had ever felt was from her sister, and even she had left, breaking her heart in the process. she knew love was hard. she just didn’t know if it was worth it. so far, it had only ever been a way for people to hurt her, even if she understood why lennon left and didn’t hold it against her. love meant giving people the chance to hurt you, and she wasn’t willing to let anyone walk out of her life again. she was the one who walked away, not the other way around. noticing the concern in her sister’s eyes, sarah knew lennon probably wasn’t expecting her to be this honest. she was just trying to survive the best way she knew how—it probably wasn’t the safest or the smartest way, but sarah had never been one to do the right thing. "i try to," she promised. "honestly, i got startled a couple of months ago, and i don’t plan on catching anything," she added, her voice softer. "i use protection, don’t worry." when lennon told her she understood the feeling, sarah smiled. she knew she wasn’t alone—lennon had gone through the same thing years ago, and she was probably the only person who could truly understand how freeing it felt to leave their toxic family behind, at least during the time she was at university. but sarah wasn’t going to give in, wasn’t going to go back to that mess of a life, so she changed the subject before things got too sentimental. listening to lennon talk about them, sarah smiled—it was obvious her sister was in love. she took lennon’s phone for a better look. "you do look cute, i’ll give you that," she nodded. "your girlfriend doesn’t look like the type to date guys, though," she mused, "she gives lesbian vibes." she smirked before adding, "she’s really pretty," then glanced at the other person in the photo. "and so is he," she said, handing the phone back. "i’m glad you’ve found people who love you," she nodded. "you deserve it." as the waiter came to take their order, sarah didn’t hesitate to order the pizza they used to love as kids. when lennon opened her mouth to protest, sarah cut her off. "i’m paying," she stated firmly. "period."

Lennon sat quietly, her eyes watching carefully as the walls around her sister seemed to crack, little by little, just for a moment. She knew the signs—the hesitation, the way the words spilled out before she could stop them. She had seen it before, the defensive shell that people built to protect themselves from pain, from vulnerability. And yet, in the space between the words, Lennon could hear something more—something raw. Her walls had been up for years too. But she had learned to be strong, to hide it behind her own mask. When she spoke, her voice was calm but filled with understanding. "Love is hard," Lennon murmured, her voice soft, steady. "It's worth it though." Lennon wasn’t blind to the pain that lingered behind those words—she knew the feeling of pushing people away because it was easier than letting them see how broken you really were. And as much as she wanted to reach out, to tell her it was okay to not be okay, she knew what it felt like to be alone like that too - before what she had nowadays. As Sarah mentioned her "craziest adventure" being avoiding pregnancy and a UTI, Lennon couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow slightly, a flicker of amusement mixed with concern in her gaze. But it was clear, just beneath the surface, that Sarah was doing her best to maintain control, to keep things light between them both. "Please be careful, from personal experience, you don't want to catch anything from strangers." When Sarah mentioned how nice it was not to live with her parents, Lennon’s heart skipped a beat. It was a familiar feeling, the sense of freedom that came with distance. She understood the weight of living with people who never truly saw you, who never really understood the person you were becoming. Lennon leaned forward a little, meeting Sarah’s gaze. "I get it," she said quietly, her voice low, almost secretive. "I really do." And then, just as quickly as the conversation had turned serious, Sarah shifted it again, asking about Lennon’s girlfriend and boyfriend. The sudden change in topic made Lennon smile, a little amused at the way Sarah tried to steer the conversation away from herself. "Well," Lennon began with a playful grin, "My girlfriend's a singer: tall, confident, and gorgeous. My boyfriend's looking for a job again but he's kind, out-going, and so fucking hot." She took out her phone to show her sister a picture of the throuple altogether - out and about somewhere - so in love. "See how cute we all look?"

[sarahendrix]

her walls had been up for years now, built stronger and stronger after her sister left. she wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her again. she wasn’t going to be weak, not because of someone else. she understood, deep down, that leaving had been the only thing lennon could do back then, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. she was still angry, still aching from growing up without her favorite person. it had never been easy. she wasn’t sure how she ended up telling lennon about her nightstands—how she managed to slip up, let her break through the cracks in her tough exterior. "love is hard, lennon. this is easy," she shrugged, trying to sound like she didn’t care. "i meet them, we have sex, i shower, and then i leave. no messy feelings, no awkward morning-after talk, just... a break from feeling like shit for a while." she hated herself for admitting it. she hated that she couldn’t just keep it to herself, that she was trying so hard to make it sound like this was what she wanted. but it wasn’t. who actually wanted this? she just didn’t know how else to stop hurting. if the only way to stop thinking about how furious she was at their parents was to hook up with strangers and disappear before sunrise, then that’s what she’d do. she didn’t have another coping mechanism. "amazing," she said with a forced smile when lennon asked how she was. "other than sleeping with people and studying? not really" she let out a small chuckle. "of course i am. i don’t like being told what to do, you know that." her lips curled into a small smirk. "not getting pregnant or catching a uti has been my craziest adventure so far." she laughed dryly before leaning back against the couch. "uni is hard, though. kicking my ass, but i guess that’s normal." she shrugged. "other than that, i’m good. it’s nice not living with mom and dad." she paused, looking at lennon knowingly. "i guess you get that feeling." she exhaled, deciding to shift the attention off herself. "tell me about your girlfriend and boyfriend."

Lennon watched Sarah closely, sensing the walls she was putting up. She always did—Sarah was skilled at keeping people at arm's length, but Lennon could see the cracks in her tough exterior. The way she tried so hard to convince herself that love didn't matter was obvious, but Lennon also knew better than to push too hard. Instead, she let Sarah lead the conversation. When Sarah mentioned love being overrated, Lennon couldn’t help but smirk a little, amused by the defensiveness that laced her words. "You sure about that?" she asked lightly, leaning forward slightly, her voice playful but gentle. "Seems like you're the one who’s exhausted, not love itself. I thought the exact same way as you did for a long while. It took some time for me to knock down the walls that I'd built up around myself afterwards." But when Sarah mentioned not being hurt because if you don’t know someone, they can't hurt you, Lennon raised an eyebrow. It was a lie she’d heard before, and Lennon knew it for what it was. "Yeah, a drama-free lunch sounds perfect," Lennon agreed, the tone of her voice light and easy. She didn’t want to dig into the heavy stuff either—not yet, anyway. "So," she continued, leaning back in her own chair with a smile, "what’s been keeping you busy lately? Anything fun, or are you still dodging everyone’s expectations?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, not expecting Sarah to share everything, but hoping for a glimpse into the walls Sarah had carefully built around herself. "What kind of crazy adventures have you been getting yourself into?"