#this wasn't a prompt- just another excuse for me to make Jamie interact more with Hannah Owen and Miles because

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

Head over feet (or Jamie’s not a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, thank you very much)

There are only two reasons Bly Manor could ever be completely silent - one, that somebody had died, and two, that Owen and Jamie were fighting. Again.

(It’s sad that there was an equal chance of either of those possibilities occurring)

She looks up when Dani walks in, and watches her immediately let out a deep breath. Dani raises an eyebrow.

“He called me a manic pixie dream girl,” she explains.

Dani goes through an extremely complicated face journey in the span of ten seconds. It’s impressive to watch.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” she says, despite Hannah frantically shaking her head from where she’s sitting at the table. “He called you a what now?”

“I didn’t call her a manic pixie dream girl,” Owen clarifies, his mouth twitching in amusement. “I may have just pointed out that her entire life kind of—”

Jamie glares at him. He side-eyes her.

“—maybe—”

Jamie shifts.

“—Dani, she’s threatening me,” he complains, like the giant baby that he is.

Dani walks up to her, slings an arm over her shoulders, and Jamie feels herself relax. Two cords start from where she’s being touched — one sneaks its way over her back and through her body, spreading warmth everywhere it goes; the other goes straight to her heart. It’s almost embarrassing how quick her body goes slack and boneless when Dani is around, as though it’s been reduced, simply, to something malleable in Dani’s tender hands.

“Let him talk, babe,” is whispered into her ear, and well, who is Jamie to argue against someone who happens to own her whole entire heart.

“I just called her a two-dime rom-com love interest archetype,” Owen finally manages to complete. “Because, and this you may have noticed yourself, her entire world revolves around you! And she’s constantly following you around like a puppy dog! And — and — I was bored!”

After a full minute of staring, Dani asks him what’s wrong with that, right when Jamie says that she absolutely does not. The silence that follows just sees them staring at each other, one a deer caught in the headlights of an incoming tornado, the other very offended.

“Oops,” says Owen in the background, the little shit.

*****

She knows Dani’s in the greenhouse even before she emerges from under the table.

That’s a cliché if she’s ever heard one, but the way Dani walks is so distinctive that there’s nothing else in the world like it. Nothing that even comes close to the particular brand of quick click-clack that accompanies her arrival, the way the steps fall like they’re trying to sound more confident than they are, in reality.  

She can almost see what it looks like up there: her girlfriend, probably walking with a cup of some absolutely horrible, disgusting tasting beverage that Jamie would adore regardless of its flavor. Except there’s a second, softer set of footsteps that follow, keep walking, until she raises her head a bit and sees Flora’s tiny slippers pointed right at her.

“Jamie,” Flora announces loudly, “I have come here on behalf of Miss. Clayton, to apologize for the misunderstanding caused in the morning.”

Jamie takes a deep breath so she doesn’t burst out laughing. Damn her girlfriend for using the deadliest weapon available to her.

“Flora,” she answers to no one in particular, “Could you tell Miss. Clayton that her words made Jamie feel undervalued and taken for granted and that her apology is not accepted.”

There’s a pause. “Flora,” Dani says, “Could you tell Jamie that Dani knows her words were thoughtless and while a mistake, not entirely inaccurate and—”

“Flora, could you tell Dani that her apology needs work—”

“—Flora, could you tell Jamie that she needs to let me explain before she starts grumping again—”

“I beg your pardon!” Flora declares over their combined whining. “I’m sorry, Miss Clayton, but I really can’t do this anymore. Could the both of you please, please, talk to each other yourself?

There’s some whispering back and forth, then footsteps running away. Jamie waits.

“Are you gonna come out now?”

“I came out a long time ago.”

She hears Dani sigh, very loudly, then — “You know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean. Maybe I want to stay down here and not see your face anymore. Did you ever think of that?”  

Dani’s voice turns adoring, and Jamie hates, hates (loves) the way her will bends to it. “But maybe I want to see your face, sweetheart.”

Jamie sticks her tongue out for an embarrassingly long time before she realizes it probably isn’t visible.  

“If you don’t come out of there,” Dani says, “I will get underneath it with you. Fair warning.”

Jamie smiles, waits.

“Coming in three, two, ow!”

And with that Jamie is out from under the table in a flash, leaning over Dani and that massive, red looking bump on her forehead. Her hands are on Dani before she can even think, one gently rubbing at the welt, the other on her cheek.

“Idiot,” she chides, unable to think How bad does it hurt over and over, “Why can’t you be more careful?”

“Why should I when I already have the best girlfriend in the world to do that for me?”

“Dani Clayton, sweet talker extraordinaire,” she says, pretending to swoon. Leans forward, and presses a gentle kiss to the gradually darkening bruise. “Better?”

Dani’s smile when she nods is so wide that her eyes are almost completely closed.

*****

“We don’t do things together.”

“We do plenty of things together.”

“Oh, like that time I cut your roses to make my collage and you told me it was ugly?”

“You cut up my roses to make One Direction fanart!”

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t dancing to Best Song Ever in the kitchen back when it had just come out!”

Hands balled up into fists, faces flushed. Jamie and Miles stare at each other for a minute before they simultaneously relax. Jamie rolls her eyes, passes the gloves over to him.

“You’re the worst,” she says.

“And you’re a.... wait, what was it Owen had called you? A two-dime rom-com love interest?”

She blushes, and is glad for the sun high up in the sky. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you eavesdropping is rude?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, my parents must have skipped that lesson during the time they were still alive.”

“You can’t pull that card on me, remember? I’m also an orphan with major abandonment issues.”

Miles shakes his head, continues pulling up the weeds in the garden bed. He’d been supremely unimpressed when she had dragged him out for “A day of fun”, and true to form, was continuing his trend of being completely unhelpful with her mission to make him do an honest day’s work.

(Also with her mission to prove to the entire household that she could, in fact, do things not involving her girlfriend)

She tells him to suck it up when he complains about the heat. He does look frazzled, though. There’s sweat dripping off of his forehead, and his hair is weirdly plastered to his head in places. He raises his head, looks longingly at the house and Jamie follows his line of sight until she can just barely make out the outline of people moving in the kitchen.

She thinks of Dani inside, and feels such a strange wave of yearning overcome her that her knees feel weak. It’s only been a whole day since she’s talked properly to her girlfriend, but already the thought of sitting next to her, within touching distance has her considering giving up on this entire “avoiding the love of her life to prove a point to a complete dum-dum" endeavor.

“What does it feel like?”  

Jamie drags her eyes away and looks at Miles. He’s looking at her curiously, his palm held over his eyes to shield him from the sun.

“What, gardening?” she asks in response, even though she knows what he really means.

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

She thinks it over. “I’m.... not sure. I love her. Just don’t know if I can articulate it well enough for anyone to understand, let alone myself.”

“But how do you know you love her?”

“Gosh, does anyone? It’s always a toss-up. It just feels right to me, I guess. I want to know her favorite everything, to consume her favorite everything because there’s a part of her in them. I trust myself to be ugly around her. To be sad, or happy, or whatever. I trust her to still like me if I’m not the best version of myself around her. It’s.... complicated.”

He nods, not looking like he gets it entirely. “Weird.”

She reaches out to mess up his hair, laughing when he protests. “Ah, you’re young yet. You’ll get there when you do.”

He hums.

“Or — or not!” she scrambles to add. “You might not get there. Which would also be okay. Totally. Okay.”

He smiles at her. “Hopefully not,” he says, lips twitching. “I’d rather die than become a manic pixie dream girl.”

She almost regrets the soil she launches at his face. Almost.

*****

She sneaks into the chapel towards evening, and nearly scares Hannah out of her wits when she turns around.

“Goodness, Jamie,” Hannah gasps, hand on her chest, “What are you doing here?”

“I came.... to pray,” she replies, picking up a random candlestick and flipping it.

Hannah looks at her in that all-knowing way of hers. “I assure you, that’s definitely not the way to do it, then. And I didn’t know you even believed in a higher power.”

“The only higher power I believe in is the stupid woman stomping around the grounds,” she says, wistfully, sinking down onto the bench opposite to where Hannah is already seated. Then immediately pinches herself on the wrist. “Damn it, I’m not supposed to be talking about her. Or to her.”

“Wait,” Hannah says, realization dawning, “Are you avoiding Dani? Is that why you’re here?”

She throws her arms up before resting her face on the corner of the bench in front of her, feeling very much like a smitten Regency era heroine. “If I’m around her, I won’t be able to resist talking to her. Or touching her. Or just, you know, looking at her like she’s the reason the universe was chucked into existence years and years ago. Trust me, it’s easier to avoid her.”

“I am going to kill that man.”

“Eh, it’s not just Owen,” Jamie remarks, in a surprising show of grace. “I’m also afraid I’m being—”

“—what? Sweet? Romantic? Absolutely swoon-worthy?”

“Clingy,” she confesses, feeling embarrassed. “What if I am bothering her by wanting to be with her most of my time?” What if I’m the only one who wants to be with her most of my time? What does that mean? Does that mean she doesn’t love me as much? Want me as much?

Hannah sits and listens patiently. God, Jamie loves her so much. If the concept of best friends existed in her world, this woman would definitely be hers.

“My ex-husband used to think I was clingy,” she says, after a while of deliberation. “Said I never gave him any space. Would get annoyed if I wanted to spend time with him after dinner.”

Jamie lets her continue.

“Remember when I went up to the village in the evening and returned late night, a long time after all of you had eaten?” she asks, and Jamie nods. “I returned at 11, and found Owen asleep at the table, two covered plates lying beside him. The man had waited for me so we could have dinner together, so we could spend half an hour together before we had to go to bed.”

“So here’s the thing,” she goes on, “Space is definitely important in a relationship and I’m pretty sure you and Dani give each other a lot of it. But take it from me, she doesn’t think you’re clingy; she could never think you’re clingy because she’s equally, stupidly in love with you and invested in this.”

Jamie feels something inside her unclench, making it easier for her to breathe. “She loves me?”

Hannah laughs, softly. “Darling, can’t you see it yourself?”

Jamie thinks that she’s beginning to.

*****

“You cannot still be angry at me,” Owen says, after a very awkward ten minutes in the kitchen together.

“Try me,” she snarks back, although it lacks bite. Her anger is easy; it rises up like a furious hurricane within minutes and is swept away just as soon.

“Okay fine,” he admits, sitting on the chair next to her as he hands her a glass of lemonade, “Fine, you’re not a manic pixie dream—”

“—two-dime romcom love interest archetype, I believe it was—”

“—okay alright, then that too. I was just—”

“—but I was!” bursts out of her in a rush, and she slumps over the table, facedown. “I spent the entire day away from her and still couldn’t stop talking about her or thinking about her or wanting her. You know what? I know that makes me pathetic but I want to talk about my girlfriend to others! She’s perfect! She’s amazing! Ethereal! Beautiful! An angel! And I am a — a stupid love interest!”

He laughs, the asshole, and then thumps her back.

“Jamie,” he starts, “Come on. Do you think I can stop thinking about Hannah when we’re apart? Or that I don’t always want her near me? For heaven’s sake, I’m always making random snacks during the day so I can have an excuse to track her down and feed her.”

She looks at him, the embarrassment now turning to acute irritation. “Then why would you — wait, you know what — you’re a fucking asshole!”

He can’t stop laughing. Grabs her into a headlock so she can’t get up and continues laughing until she pinches at his arm.

“Are you still angry?” he inquires, after he’s done catching his breath.

“Yes!”

“Jamie, my darling,” he says, very formally, “I was just angry because we hadn’t spent time together in so damn long.”

She regards him. “What? No? We hung out just—”

He waits.

“—oh.”

“Last time we got drunk together was two weeks ago. Then, nada. I’m not saying that it’s all you. God knows I’ve done my fair share of forgetting to hang out because I was already with Hannah and it was difficult to tear myself away, I just — yeah.”

The smile that she can feel creeping up all over her face is the devil. “Owen, are you saying you miss me?”

His face darkens. “Oh fuck you.”

“Owen Sharma misses me, Owen Sharma misses me....”

“Jaime, I’m literally going to kill you.”

*****

She screams when Dani does and nearly falls off the ledge.

(Listen, in her defense, she hasn’t seen her girlfriend in over 24 hours. A show of impulse romance by climbing up the ledge right up to Dani’s room can certainly be excused)

(Also, she’s a little drunk)

“You scared me!” she says, with Dani now holding on to her.

“I scared you?” Dani exclaims. “You — I turned around and you’re suddenly at the window like a haunted owl or something.”

“Why the fuck would an owl haunt you?”

Dani opens her mouth, then closes it again. Jamie counts it as a personal victory.

She climbs over the window and lands on the inside of the room. Dani leans forward, kisses her, then draws back.

“Are you — are you drunk?”

“A little,” Jamie disentangles from her to raise her right hand with her thumb and forefinger held a tiny span apart. “Only a leetle. I was with Owen.”

“Ah, so the manic pixie dream girl and best boy have made up?” Dani teases, then quickly kisses her cheek when she protests.

“How did your experiment go?” she adds.

“Terrible. Horrible,” Jamie answers. “I kept talking about you wherever I went. It was embarrassing. If there is a lesbian equivalent of the Bechdel test, we most certainly did not pass it.”

Dani kisses at her pout until it switches to a smile, and Jamie can physically feel the elation fill her body until she guesses she’s probably floating on air by now. There’s something about being around Dani that relaxes every part of her, makes her feel so light that she thought if she could just jump hard enough, she’d float away like a heart-shaped balloon. Jamie tightens her hold on Dani, buries her face in her hair, and breathes her in until all of her senses are filled up with her.

(If wanting to hug her girlfriend like a panda all the time makes her clingy, so be it)

“If it makes you feel any better,” Dani says, still hugging her, “I couldn’t stop talking about you either. I kept bugging Hannah or Owen or whoever was nearest, asking them what you were up to. A really pretty song played on the radio and I thought — I can dance with Jamie to this. I tried watching a movie, and all I could think was, If Jamie had been here, she would definitely have hidden her face in my shoulder at this part. I was cold and lonely at night, and I thought If Jamie were here, she would have put her hand on my—”

“—Dani!” she says, scandalized.

“—back to warm me up,” Dani completes, smoothly, and then pulls back to look at her. “So we could cuddle and go to sleep. Why, what were you thinking?”

Jamie tries, she really does. However, only five seconds later, she’s kissing her stupid, annoying, idiotic girlfriend again.

“Let’s never do that, okay?” she says. “I kept tossing and turning all night.”

“You’re telling me,” Dani deadpans. “I slept on the floor on a mattress because the bed was just too damn empty without you there.”

“The drama,” Jamie says, although she’s smiling too wide for it to register. “Well, hopefully, you wouldn’t have to sleep without your angsty, brooding love interest ever again.”

“Oh,” Dani quirks an eyebrow, tilts her head. “Does that mean this is our happy ending?”

Jamie kisses her again, feels her smile and is more inclined to think they’re in the wonderful, beautiful, middle forever.