Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The moment Agatha crossed the Welcome to Westview sign, her stomach did a violent jump. 

Not exactly from excitement, but fucking fear. But that’s the most normal reaction when you’re about to meet with your past, right? 

And the thing about reunions was that they always looked better on paper. In reality, it was so much more. Like a bunch of adults clinging to the idea of who they’d been at seventeen, hoping the magic still worked. 

Usually when you swear that you’ll be friends forever during the last day of classes or graduation day it only lasts for the first couple of months, until everyone takes their own way and forgets about everyone. Your reunions now are every time someone is born, for a funeral, birthdays or…weddings.

Certainly not Jen and Alice’s since those deadass got married in secret years ago because Jen said one day that ‘life was too short to fuck around’. The rest of the group complained but cried during the group video call where the wives recited their vows for them.

This time, though, it wasn’t for a pleasant thing or at least not for her. 

It was Rio’s wedding.

So now, Agatha was back at the very place she was never fully happy to even name, just to watch the love of her life getting married to a woman she had never met, didn’t care to meet and already hated. 

The thought of it was enough for her to want to crawl back to hell and even ask for a hug from her long dead mother once she gets there.

She’d flown in that morning to New York and drove to Westview mostly on autopilot , dropped her bag at her hotel and immediately regretted agreeing to any of this. 

If it hadn’t been for Jen’s text “Don’t you dare bail, bitch. You know she wants you there” Agatha might’ve found a good excuse. A fake emergency, flight canceled, something.

But Jen was right, wasn’t she? Rio did want her there. Rio, who hadn’t asked, hadn’t begged, hadn’t even texted “please” Just that cool little note three weeks ago:

‘I’d like you to come. It would mean a lot’

That was it. And Agatha, pathetic, loyal, lovesick idiot that she was ,booked the flight before she could think better.

Now she was sitting at a sticky bar table, nursing a whiskey she didn’t need, waiting for the rest of the group. The so-called “gay spice girls”. Separated for adult life, jobs, marriages, the kind of adult responsibilities none of them had understood at seventeen but now it was their reality..

Jen arrived first. Always elegant, chic, still with that characteristic mean girl image. She immediately hugged Agatha and sat across from her with a grin like they were still teenagers sneaking booze with fake ID’s. 

“God, you look like shit. Missed me?”

“Like I miss food poisoning” Agatha smirked, automatic. Their rhythm had never changed.

Jen snorted “Still a bitch. Good. I was worried London softened you”

Agatha thought that too, she also thought that being 3,500 miles away will stop from thinking about Rio, about the life they will never get to have. But it didn’t.

“Where's Alice? How many crimes did she solve this week?”

“More than she gives credit to herself, she’ll be here in a few”

Before they could keep with their chat, another figure stopped at the door. Wanda slid in, always composed, always a little ethereal but with the aura of an orange cat. She kissed Agatha’s cheek like they were Europeans instead of Jersey-bred brats. 

“Ags, you came!” Wanda said, like it was the second coming of Jesus (gay Jesus).

“Don’t sound so surprised and why do you look so good? Look at you” She pointed and whistled at her “Full elmo couture" 

The redhead did a twirl showing off her scarlet satin slip on dress, not even giving away the fact she carried a pair of whirlwinds almost 4 years ago. 

“You know, moms do magic and shit” she said 

They laughed, they bitched, they fell back into patterns so old their knees started to hurt. About thirty minutes more the rest of the group arrived, Alice still wearing her bandage and leather jacket looking like a mother fucker rockstar who fights everyone but her wife. 

Behind her…Rio.

And for some reason it was like the whole fucking bar went quiet. 

Agatha hated that, hated the cliché of it. But Rio always had that effect. She was dressed head to toe in black but always wearing her signature color as armor, this time in a deep green blazer. 

And that face, the same face that still made Agatha’s breath catch and tremble like it had no choice.

Not even five minutes in and Rio had already altered her whole brain chemistry in the worst possible way and Rio had no fuckign idea.

She smiled at everyone, hugged Jen long, kissed Wanda’s cheek, teased Alice about how she’s still a bad driver. And then last, always last, she turned to Agatha.

“Hey, stranger” Rio said softly and carefully. Like she wasn’t allowed to say it any louder.

She stood, because she couldn’t not but her legs threatened with giving up the second she had a taste of that woodsy and subtle floral fragrance she carried now. 

Agatha hugged her a little too quick, too formal, like Rio was a casual stranger. But her body still knew the shape of her, still remembered where to fit and for one aching heartbeat, Agatha thought: This is mine. This should’ve been mine.

They drank. They caught up. They laughed too loud. Alice roasted everyone and Jen encouraged her wife. Wanda mediated like a saint ( a very drunk one). And through it all, Agatha kept stealing glances at Rio, her ring glinting under shitty bar lights like a knife carving into her heart. 

“London treating you well?” Rio asked at one point, the question slipping between the chatter, deceptively casual or at least making it seem like that. 

Agatha nearly choked on her drink. Because the thing was, how was she supposed to answer that? 

How was she supposed to say that London was fine, London was busy, London was lonely and cold as hell. And every article, every deadline, every new bar she tried was just a way to not think about her? That every time she listened to that mixtape they made during chem class didn't hurt like a stab.

She thought about the time they kissed at the gym after Rio’s basketball practice and their friends cheered a little too loud, they got the whole group detention that day. When the world had still felt wide open and merciful. 

When they were just two girls in love, before everything went to hell.

Instead, Agatha cleared her throat and forced her lips into her ‘i’m okay i swear, not dying inside’ fake ass smile “It’s… London. You know. Expensive rent, bad weather, shitty pubs. Classic shit”

Rio smirked, that dry little twist of her mouth Agatha used to think she’d earned exclusively “Sounds like you”

And fuck, that nearly undid her.

“I have read your work” Rio said next, swirling her drink like she wasn’t waiting for Agatha’s chest to crack open.

Agatha blinked, and Christ, her voice betrayed her before she could strangle it down. Too thin. Too fucking eager.

“You did, why would you?”

Rio didn’t flinch. She just took her time with that sip as if it was a bomb being deactivated (which it totally felt like that)

“Mm-hmm, the one about that councilwoman and the housing scandal. Brutal shit”

Agatha laughed too fast, that was the second article Agatha wrote, about six years ago. And yet, it  was the one Rio had to bring back.

What does it mean? Was Rio following her work after all those years? Agatha’s brain was doing fucking mental gymnastics “Yeah, well. Corruption sells papers”

Rio tilted her head, all quiet precision, like she was aiming a scalpel instead of a compliment. 

“It was more than good. It was furious. The kind of furious you used to pour into those ridiculous manifestos freshman year”

The kind of furious I used to bleed out for you, Agatha thought but swallowed.

The kind of furious I should have fought for you.

Instead, she just stared at her drink again. She tried really hard to not look to Rio into the eye and that was a fucking nightmare, how could she not? She loved those eyes, but she was the same coward that she was at seventeen. 

“Guess some things stick”

Rio’s mouth curved “Yeah. Guess so”

The silence between them started to feel claustrophobic even when the place was loud and packed and their friends were already so drunk that the bartender was about to personally call god to give him the strength needed.

Rio finally exhaled, her throat full from words she didn’t want to say “I didn’t expect to see you”

“Didn’t expect” Agatha said,voice low “or didn’t want?”

Rio’s chest hurt “I don’t know” she admitted “Both, maybe”

Agatha nodded like it was already filed under obvious. Like she’d been carrying Rio’s answers around for years, waiting for her to catch up.

“I care-” she said finally, out of nowhere. Her voice dropping low “Because I still care about you, I read you, every time I can”

The words landed and sunk into the deepest of Agatha’s chest. 

She whispered, almost too soft to hear “I thought you stopped. Imean you should, after everything I-”

Agatha stopped herself, it was too painful to even finish that sentence.

Rio’s jaw tightened but relaxed quickly as she let out a long and tired sigh.

“I tried” Rio said. And it sounded like a confession or maybe a threat.

And Agatha, even with shaking hands and heart pounding so fast she could feel it in her ears didn’t look away this time.

Rio leaned in, voice dropping low enough the others couldn’t hear “You look tired, Agatha”

“Wow, thanks. Always wanted to hear that from a good friend” Agatha muttered.

Friend.

Rio didn’t laugh this time. Her gaze still fixed on Agatha, like searching for something more. Like she wanted to press further, ask the question that hung unsaid between them. Are you happy?

Before Rio could say anything more Agatha cleared her throat “So. Wedding plans? Big day coming up. You nervous?”

Rio’s ring tapped against the glass once, twice. Then she smiled, forced, empty. Nothing like the one she knew, big and bright with her tooth gap showing.

“No. Not nervous. Just… ready”

She could only nod, because what was she supposed to say? After everything, after accepting she already lost Rio. 

The hours blurred in that messy, stupid way only alcohol and nostalgia could pull off. Alice dragged them to the pool table first, claiming she still had the “best damn break in Jersey” which turned out to be a lie, considering she barely clipped the cue ball and sent it skidding into the nearest table causing a mess. 

Jen kept trying to stop her wife from getting them all banned from the place, which only made Alice louder. Wanda softer and sentimental, reminding everyone that time she kissed the redhead girl from the food aisle at the mall and how Rio baptized them as cheeto and dorito.

Agatha didn’t play,she was too busy having an internal breakdown but her gaze kept wandering. And every time Rio glanced up, every damn time, Agatha’s eyes were already on her.

Later, someone fed a twenty into the karaoke machine and by some curse of fate, Alice queued up ABBA. Jen pretended to threaten divorce, only to be shut by Wanda who was already grabbing one of the microphones.Then the screen lit up with SOS and the whole group ended up screaming, drunk voices cracking, arms slung around each other like they were seventeen again.

Agatha laughed at the timing. Yeah, she needed all the possible help right now. When the chorus came, Rio’s gaze caught hers across the chaos, across the noise and Agatha forgot the words entirely. 

It was unfair, the way a look could still undo her, after all those years.

By the time last call rolled around, Wanda’s husband showed up to collect her, polite as ever, making a joke about “herding cats” as Wanda pressed kisses to every cheek (even the bartender) before letting him guide her out. Alice and Jen offered to share their uber with Agatha back to her hotel and then bring her to theirs, insisting it was late, that she’d had too much.

“I’m fine” Agatha lied, pulling her jacket on “It’s, what, ten blocks? I’ll walk”

Jen narrowed her eyes “Text me when you get there or I’ll assume Westview swallowed you whole”

“I’ll send you my ghost emoji” Agatha promised.

The group broke apart outside under the buzzing neon bar sign. Alice and Jen drift away leaving Agatha and Rio at the curb. Agatha was reaching for her lighter to light the cigarette on her mouth when Rio stood behind her.

“You shouldn’t walk alone” She said quietly.

Agatha huffed a laugh, taking the cigarette out of her mouth “Please. I’ve walked home drunk in bigger cities than this. I’ll survive”

Rio’s hand twitched like she wanted to reach out but didn’t “I mean it”

Something sharp and raw rose in Agatha’s chest. Maybe it was the whiskey, hopefully it was just that  “Why do you care, Rio? You’ve got someone else to worry about now”

Rio flinched “That’s not fair”

“Neither is this” She snapped, voice shaking “You asking me to show up, to sit here smiling like it doesn’t kill me, like I’m not watching you pretend you’re happy. You don’t get to do that and then act like you still-” She stopped herself, breath ragged.

Rio’s eyes glistened, her jaw tight “You think this is easy for me?”

Agatha let out a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all “You’re the one getting married, to someone you probably don’t even love”

“Fuck you, Agatha. You don’t get to do that, don’t forget you were the one who ruined this. Now you blame me for moving on? ”

Agatha’s mouth opened, then shut again, fuck. The words just wouldn’t come, stuck in her throat like they knew she didn’t deserve to say them. And Rio was right, it wasn’t her fault. None of this was.

Agatha could’ve dropped to her knees right there, begged her not to go through with it, not to marry someone else. Begged for one more chance, just one. But what fucking right did she have?

“It was the only-” A sob cut her “Form all the ways I could protect you, I kept you safe from me”

Rio’s teary eyes were shining. That broke something in Agatha. She could see it, all that hurt, all the damage she'd done. And God, she'd undo it all if she could. Rip time open with her bare hands and fix it.

But it was too late. They both knew that.

Rio wiped her cheek with her sleeve, voice small but firm “This was a mistake. I thought I could do it. I thought you could do it”

“Rio, I-”

Agatha didn’t even get the words out before she was cut off, and honestly? Thank fuck for that. Like anything she said would’ve helped. Like there was any combination of words that could make this hurt less for either of them.

A black Mercedes pulled up to the curb. A blonde woman leaned across the passenger seat to wave. Smile too bright, face too gentle

Rio tore her eyes away from Agatha “Goodbye, Agatha”

“Yeah, bye” she said, the words sour in her mouth.

Rio hesitated for one heartbeat too long, then turned, heels clicking against the pavement as she slid into the car. And just like that, she was gone.

Agatha stood there for a couple of seconds, her hands were trembling, tears spilling free down her cheeks. She started walking without even realizing and made it maybe four blocks before her stomach knotted and her vision blurred.

She stumbled into the nearest alley like a drunk cliché, her palms pressed against the bricks as she tried to breathe. But her lungs weren’t working right. Too much whiskey, too many memories trying to claw their way out all at once.

She hadn’t been this close to Rio in over a decade and now she’d just watched her leave. Again.

Her stomach betrayed her quickly, the whiskey and a half-digested slice of pizza splattering against the concrete. Pressing her forehead to the wall she tried to steady herself but everything felt so embarrassing, sad and she felt so alone at that very moment.

This is pathetic. I’m pathetic.

Her phone buzzed twice. Finally taking a long breath she reached it out with trembling fingers. Jen.

Where are you bitch? Don’t make me get Alice to track your ass.

She stared at the text until the words felt too heavy, shoving the phone back into her bag without answering. 

She wasn't gonna answer with:  Hey, I’m four blocks from the bar crying into a puddle of puke because I’m still in love with my high school girlfriend who’s about to get married to some blonde angel sent here to personally destroy me?

She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, tried to stand upright. Her legs shook, but she pushed forward forcing herself to keep going. And because fate was a cruel bastard, the next corner she turned landed her right in front of her old street.

She froze instantly. 

Her home- house. that place never felt truly like home.

There still behind the big tree, the same paint and cracked pavement . It looked smaller now, somehow. 

Like it couldn’t hurt her anymore. Weird to think about that, right? But Agatha’s chest still clenched the way it had every time her mother’s voice used to snap across every single room.

She didn’t even realize her feet were moving until she was halfway up the block.

The closer she got, the loude the ghosts. The nights she’d sneak Rio in after he mother passed out from whatever crazy shit she had that day, the fights, the slammed doors, the endless noise of never good enough.

Her fingers trailed the rusting mailbox and she almost laughed.

Welcome home, Agatha. You finally cracked.

The moment her mother died she left that place behind and moved with the only family member she actually respected, her dad’s sister. She never dared to come back after that.

Not even to sell it, which could have helped her aunt to cover her tuition fees but both knew it was better to forget. Agatha couldn't care less about that hellhole where she spent the most awful seventeen years of her life. 

Yet, the tears flowed hard and fast. Falling into her face like a reminder of all the shit she did wrong. She stood at the foot of the steps and stayed there like debating if it was a good idea to shove the finger into the wound, staring at the door like it might stare back.

But she was there, again. Thirty-something, drunk, heartbroken, like she’d never really left.

She sat on the steps and pressed her face into her hands letting out ugly sobs that shook through her ribs

“I should’ve fought harder, If I wasn’t this big ass coward” she whispered into the dark “I should’ve stayed. I should’ve-”

It didn’t matter how she finished the sentence. Every version ended the same, she lost Rio. and maybe she deserved it. 

Maybe she’d always been a coward, good at running, bad at holding on.

Agatha sat on the porch steps, knees pulled up, a cigarette burning down between her fingers even though she hated smoking. She just needed something to do with her hands. 

“You’re coming with me, you know my moms love you and will welcome you no matter what” Rio said, like it was already decided.

Her voice firm and sure like always, like everything in her life.That was the thing with Rio, she was always so sure, like she’d already built a future and left Agatha-shaped space right in th middle of it.

God, Agatha wanted to crawl into that space and never leave. She wanted to beg, yes, yes, take me with you, I don’t care where, I don’t care how, just don’t let me rot here. But she couldn’t. Because behind them, the house loomed like a graveyard, her mother waiting inside with all her venom

“Rio, we talked about this, you deserve-” Agatha said, trying to actually believe those words “You deserve better than this. Better than me”

Rio’s head snapped toward her “Don’t say that”

“Why not? It’s true”

“It’s not”

“Rio” Agatha’s laugh came out cracked, jagged “You have no idea what it’s like in there. She’s been telling me my whole life I’m nothing. That I’m not enough for anyone or anything. And I fucking believed her. Still do”

Rio took Agatha’s hand, squeezing tighter, desperate “Then let me prove her wrong. Let me love you until you believe it”

Christ, that hurt. It was too much. Too bright. Like staring into the sun.

Agatha shook her head so hard it made her dizzy “You think you can fix me? You think you can erase all those years of her voice in my skull telling me I’m worthless? That I ruin everything I touch?”

“You don’t ruin things”

“I ruin everything” Agatha’s voice broke, tears burning hot down her cheeks. She pulled her hand free, hugging her arms around herself like armor “And I won’t ruin you, I can’t let that happen”

Rio leaned forward, eyes wild, begging like prayer “Don’t do this. Don’t fuck this up because of her. You are not her. Agatha, you’re everything… my everything”

But Agatha couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t fight against the roots her mother had planted so deep they strangled her from the inside out. She could hear her mother’s voice even now

What kind of idiot would love you?

Her chest hurt. Her whole body hurt. The only mercy she could offer, the only mercy she’d ever been capable of was letting Rio go before she dragged her down too.

“Go” Agatha could barely speak and it felt like peeling her own skin off, like carving out her heart with a spoon “Don’t waste yourself here”

Rio stared at her, jaw trembling like she might scream “You’ll regret this” she said finally, voice shredded.

Goddamn right she did. Every single day. Every night she woke up with the phantom weight of Rio’s hand still in hers. Every time she looked at a life she could’ve had but never let herself reach for.

Rio didn’t just sit there and take it. That wasn’t her.

“You don’t get to decide that for me” Her voice raising nwo “You don’t get to tell me I’m better off without you like you’re doing me some fucking favor. That’s bullshit”

Agatha didn’t move, she couldn’t. If she touched Rio, even a little, she’d fold.

“You hear me?” Rio’s voice cracked. Cracked. She was on her knees now, right there on the porch, trying to find a lifeline “Don’t do this. Don’t throw me away because of her”

“Stop-” 

“No!” Rio surged forward, tears streaking down her cheeks violently “You are not your mother’s voice. You are not her cruelty. You are- fuck, you’re the smartest, loudest, most infuriating person I’ve ever met and I’m not-” Her voice broke into pieces “I’m not leaving you here to rot because she told you you’re garbage”

Agatha was shaking so hard she thought her bones might splinter “You don’t get it. You don’t know what she’s like. She’ll never stop, Rio. And I can’t- I can’t drag you through that”

Rio’s hands were on her knees now, clutching like she could physically hold Agatha to the earth “Then let her scream! Let her choke on it! Let her hate me, I don’t care. I’ll take it, all of it, if it means I get you”

Agatha wanted to say yes. She wanted to collapse into Rio’s arms and let her carry all the weight she’d been breaking under for years. But her mother’s voice was louder, sharper.

You ruin everything. You were born evil and you will die the same way.  Who could ever want you?

And it was unbearable.

Agatha shoved Rio back, a sob tearing out of her “Rio, just go away!”

Rio stumbled, broken and relentless, like she’d rather die on that porch than walk away “Please, Agatha, please don’t do this to us. Don’t do this to me”

And God, that was the cruelest part. Rio begging for a future Agatha couldn’t let herself have.

So she forced herself to look Rio in the eye, to carve the words out of her own chest “I love you too much for that”

Rio’s face shattered right there, like watching glass implode in slow motion. She choked on a sob, reaching once more but Agatha turned away, burying her face against her knees.

Her final act of love was keeping safe the most important thing she had in her life.

By the time she looked up again, Rio was gone.

She opened her eyes again and took a deep breath, trying to ease the pain growing in her head. She could feel how everything was coming back to her mind, the last time she kissed Rio, the last time they held hands, the last time she saw those beautiful big brown eyes until today.

She wanted to die right into these steps, the same place where she broke her heart. Instead she just stood up and walked again until she made it to her hotel, immediately passing out.

And maybe Rio was right. This was a mistake, because everything Agatha could think about now was getting her back.

Now she had to spend the weekend, three whole fucking days holding her heart in her hands in attempt of staying alive.

But she knew that was impossible.

Chapter Text

“You are impossible!” Rio said laughing

“No, I’m serious. Do you ever think about it?” Agatha asked, propped on one elbow, watching Rio like she could memorize every freckle if she tried hard enough.

“Think about what?”

“The future, kids. All that shit”

Rio made a face, dramatic “Way to kill the mood, Harkness”

Agatha shoved her shoulder, but there was a smile hiding “I’m serious. Do you want them?”

Rio thought for a long moment, fingers playing with the hem of Agatha’s tshirt “Yeah, maybe one day. A son, my moms would be crazy for him”

Agatha tilted her head “Really?”

“Yeah. A little boy. Big brown eyes like mine, obviously, so he can get away with murder. Your nose and hair, all wavy and wild. God, he’d be unstoppable”

Agatha froze for a beat, something soft in her expression before she smirked, deflecting “You planning our kid already, Vidal? Bold of you”

Rio grinned, reckless with the kind stupid and cute love only seventeen could hold “Maybe I am, and honestly I can’t wait”

Agatha leaned down, kissed her slowly. And for one sharp, impossible moment, the future had felt certain.

Agatha woke up sweating, this was the fourth time she had dreamed that day. Ever since the words Rio and wedding were next to each other, excluding her. 

She took in the way the sunlight reflected on the carpeted floor and the faint smell of whatever the fuck hotels smell. Desperation? Sadness and sorrow? 

Nah, that was just her.

Her chest still felt heavy from last night, the way Rio looked at her where she swore it was the same look she used to give at her during PE class when they ran under the bleachers to make out. 

But it was all in Agatha’s head, an engaged woman can’t be looking at her like that. The woman she left heart broken  years ago can’t be looking at her like that. 

And today the misery wasn’t over. 

Rehearsal dinner was only hours away and she was ready to attach a rock to her waist and throw herself at Westview river, still asking herself why she agreed to come for this. 

She seeks shelter on the bad hotel coffee, burning her tongue after the first sip and really didn’t giving an absolutely fuck about it.

Before she could dive deeper into her self-pity party, a loud knock echoed through the door. It snapped her back to reality and in that instant, she remembered exactly why drinking at thirty five wasn’t the brilliant idea it used to be.

“Oh for fucks sake” she muttered, nearly spilling her coffee all over the floor, dragged a hand over her face and went to open the door.

Jen stood at the corridor with her sunglasses perched on her head, hair up in a messy knot that still looked better than anything Agatha could manage even on a good day. She had a paper bag in one hand and a bottle of orange juice in the other, like some domestic peace offering.

“Figured you wouldn’t feed yourself" she said, shouldering past her before Agatha even invited her in.

Agatha snorted, shutting the door “Nice to see you too”

Jen was already unloading croissants, muffins, and two plastic containers of scrambled eggs onto the desk like she owned the place “Don’t start with me. You looked like a corpse last night. And don’t even say it’s the jet lag, Westview isn’t that exotic”

Agatha slumped into the bed, wrapping her hands around her mug “Thanks, mom”

Jen shot her a look “Don’t tempt me, I’ll start telling you to stand up straight”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Jen demolishing a muffin like she had beef with blueberries, Agatha mostly pushing eggs around with a fork. 

“So. You’re still doing the thing” Jen leaned back, wiping her fingers on a napkin.

Agatha blinked “What thing?”

“The thing where you pretend you’re just here to be polite when in reality you’re one sideways glance from losing your shit because Rio Vidal  is in the same zip code as you”

Agatha’s jaw tightened “Drop it”

“Nope. Not dropping it” Jen leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Her voice softened “You’ve been blaming yourself for almost twenty years, Agatha. You left, fine. But you can’t keep carrying it like you killed someone”

Agatha stared at the table, her eyes fixing into a crumb like that tiny thing held the answers to all her problems “I left and now she’s about to marry someone who probably actually deserves her. It feels in fact that I killed someone, Jen”

Jen didn’t argue. She just let the silence flood the place because it seemed Agatha needed that. Jen knew so much about her, when she needed a moment of peace inside her constant buzzing brain.  The kind that made Agatha itch under her skin.

Finally, Agatha let out a long sigh “Do you ever think about it?”

Jen frowned “Think about what?”

Agatha’s voice went low, almost like she was repeating the ghost of a conversation. “The future, kids. All that shit, have you and Alice talked about it?”

Jen stilled, watching her carefully “A few times, yeah. But we want to be very sure before we do anything” 

Agatha swallowed, eyes burning even though she refused to let them spill over “We used to talk about it, back then. I asked her if she wanted kids. She said yeah. A son. With my hair and nose, her eyes. I can still-” her voice cracked and she pressed her hand to her chest, playing with the collar of her shirt “I can still replaying that moment”

Jen’s expression softened, but she didn’t touch her. 

She knew Agatha too well, touch would break her open “You were kids. You were both terrified. That doesn’t make what you had any less real”

For years, Agatha learned that people love to say that your decisions at 17 don’t mean shit. Like, “you’re too young to know what you want” but then they turn around and expect you to choose a career path that’s supposed to shape the rest of your goddamn life. 

At 17, you can vote in some places. You can drive a car. You can literally sign up to go to war. But apparently deciding who you love or what you want? Nah, that’s “just a phase”

But they were a whole different story. Their love felt like the kind that transcends time and space. At 17, they looked at each other like they held the whole damn universe in their hands.

They knew. Or at least, they thought they did.

Funny how sometimes at seventeen you don’t know shit.

Agatha laughed, bitter and sharp “Tell that to my chest when she looks at me like- like nothing’s changed. And then I remember she’s marrying someone else”

Jen’s voice was so compassionate it freaked Agatha out “Then stop asking yourself when you decided to give up. Start asking yourself if you’re willing to fight now”

Agatha’s head snapped up.

“Look, it’s up to you to go. But believe me when I say that she’s miserable enough and she knows it. Let’s at least have her back”

Agatha stared at her coffee, heart pounding like it wanted out of her ribcage. Honest. The one thing she hadn’t been with Rio when it mattered.

And tonight, she was going to have to see her again.

After Jen left, she unpacked and packed her suitcase more times than she can count now. She could call the airline and change her flight back, she could run again. Even if her legs hurt, even if she was short of breath. Instead she took a nap to ease the pain, then took a showe, the hottest she could handle, until her skin turned red and hurt. 

Then when she stood in front of the floor length mirror, in a deep purple wrap dress taking a look of herself. Red puffy eyes that make up didn’t succeed in hiding the noticeable hurt. The fine lines in her forehead and corner of her mouth like a painful reminder that time has indeed passed.

She took her purse and the keys of her rental and drove back to New York, every stop at the red light felt like a countdown to her execution. 

The place was warm and cozy despite the February weather, candlelight all around the place, but Agatha felt like she was watching it all from underwater. Everyone else looked beautiful, dresses that caught the glow of the chandeliers, suits crisp, glasses clinking as unknown people toasted to nothing in particular.

She smothered her dress every single time she didn’t know what to do with her hands, while her eyes kept betraying her, dragging toward the one person she wasn’t supposed to be looking at.

Rio.

Hair pulled up, a few curls escaping on purpose and a new shade of lipstick she had never seen before on her but it definitely suited. Her light grey suit hugged her curves perfectly 

Fuck fuck fuck.

She laughed at something Wanda said, head tipping back and for a second it was so easy to imagine they were still seventeen, still reckless, still hers.

Jen kept nudging Agatha’s foot under the table every time she got caught staring. By the fourth kick, Agatha hissed “Knock it off”

“Then stop broadcasting heartbreak with your eyeballs, dude” Jen muttered, raising her wine.

Agatha rolled her eyes but didn’t fight back.

Dinner blurred. Speeches, toasts, more champagne. Agatha couldn’t breathe, couldn’t shake the weight in her chest and she knew, she really knew that Rio kept catching her gaze too. 

That it wasn’t just in her head.

The clink of silverware and soft jazz was starting to sound like a funeral. Agatha barely registered the name tags placed neatly around the long table, the Pinterest perfect flower arrangements or the fact that someone clearly thought green and slate grey was an original wedding color scheme. 

Her fingers curled tighter around her wine glass, not because she wanted to drink but because it gave her something to do besides crawl out of her own damn skin.

Then Rio stood up.

And Agatha’s heart did the thing. That stupid full-body jolt like a dog hearing its owner’s voice after years apart.

"Hey guys" Rio said, her voice clear and warm "Thanks for coming. It means the world to me and Carol. We know it’s not easy getting time off or traveling, so we really appreciate it"

Agatha pretended to smile. Pretended to not feel like someone had cracked her sternum open and replaced her lungs with wet newspaper.

"It’s kinda fucked up we are doing this one day before the wedding but anyways" Rio continued "I thought it’d be nice for you all to meet Carol, though some of you already know her”

There was a beat.

Agatha’s stomach dropped.

Here it comes.

Carol stood up beside Rio, tall and composed in that effortless ex-military way that screamed I could kill you with this butter knife but I won’t, unless you fuck around and find out. 

Her posture was so straight Agatha’s spine straightened automatically. The slit in her satin navy dress revealing a toned leg. Her blonde curls falling perfectly into her shoulders. 

She was indeed pretty and probably perfect. She knew from Alice that they met at the Airforce, Carol was a pilot and Rio was working in an engineer program at her division. They matched instantly apparently.

Agatha wanted to fucking die. 

"Hi" Carol said with a polite, contained smile. One arm slipping casually ,possessively  around Rio’s waist "It’s really good to finally meet some of you. And see a few familiar faces"

Her eyes flicked to Alice, who nodded with a smile that said don’t start shit in front of the bread rolls and then to Agatha.

A pause. Barely two seconds.

But Agatha felt it like a slap.

"I’ve heard a lot about you" Carol said smoothly, still smiling. Not a threat, not angry. But definitely not a warm-fuzzy oh my god Rio talks about you all the time kind of tone either. 

Not a fuckign chance,  this was clinical curiosity mixed with territorial warning. Like she was being studied, dissected, filed under potential emotional threat.

Agatha blinked, smiled and died a little.

“All good things, I hope” she replied, knowing exactly what she was doing.

Carol’s smile didn’t falter “Depends on the storyteller”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“You are impossible!” Rio said with a nervous laugh, nudging Carol’s shoulder and the table joined in the chuckles, thinking it was just couple banter.

But Agatha? She heard the subtext loud and clear.

You’re here. I see you. I know who you are. And I know what you were.

She pushed her chair back a little too fast “Excuse me. Just need some air”

Jen didn’t stop her. Just looked up with a silent please don’t be a dumbass expression.

Outside, she leaned against the brick wall of the rooftop, dragging in a breath of New York’s poor air. Her hands shook painfully, she couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or rage or heartbreak or all three swirling in a toxic cocktail she’d been sipping since she opened that goddamn wedding invite.

“She’s not wrong, you know”

The voice came soft behind her. Low. Familiar.

Agatha didn’t turn around “About what?”

“You” Rio said “She’s heard a lot about you”

Agatha bit the inside of her cheek so hard she could feel the taste of copper.

“I didn’t exactly expect a red carpet” she said, the sarcasm sliding out before she could stop it, the only way she was taught to be able to show herself to the world.

Rio chuckled emotionlessly.

“But I guess ‘you broke my heart and vanished’ isn’t really the kind of story that makes someone welcome you with a mimosa”

Rio stepped closer and she smelled the same scent that made her lose her mind yesterday at the bar. If she was already drunk it didn’t help.

“She’s not mad” Rio said “She’s just... cautious. I told her you were important to me”

Were. A shot in the chest probably hurts less than this. 

Agatha turned, finally meeting her eyes “Why’d you tell her anything at all?”

Rio blinked “Because I’m not a liar”

Agatha laughed “No. You’re just an idiot for inviting your ex to your wedding”

Rio’s voice dropped “Agatha…”

Agatha looked away “Doesn’t matter”

“It does to me”

Silence fell between them, quiet, heavy, fuckign dangerous.

Agatha folded her arms “I’m not here to start anything”

“Then why are you here, Agatha?”

That question. That fucking question.

She could lie. Say she came for Jen. For nostalgia. For closure.

But she was tired of lying.

“I guess I needed to see it” Agatha said quietly “That you were okay. That you were happy. That you... made it without me. Just like you deserved”

Rio’s face softened, barely “And what did you see?”

Agatha’s voice cracked open like an old wound “I see someone who still laughs the same way she did when we skipped school to get high in your mom’s garage. I see someone who still wears her heart on her sleeve even when she’s trying not to. And I see someone who’s about to marry a perfectly decent woman”

Rio’s mouth wavered “I can’t believe you”

That took Agatha by surprise, her tone. A mix of anger and sadness “All these years and you keep lying to me”

“Rio, it’s not- It's not a lie. I would have ruined your life. You were going to MIT and become the greatest engineer, i didn't even know back then if I would be able to keep studying or even have a future I couldn't offer you anything back then” 

Agatha’s palms were sweaty, her heart felt like she was on a race she knew she could never win.

“I just wanted you, Agatha!” Rio raised her voice, fighting back the tears forming in the corner of her eyes "That's what you don't understand, I didn't need anything but you”

Agatha felt the air in her lungs dissipate, she always hated to see Rio like this. For her, Rio was this ray of sunshine that always made her day better after her mother had beaten her for something stupid, after a failed test, after a long day of just existing. 

That stubborn brown eyed girl always had her way to make Agatha feel alive even if she was dying inside constantly.

“There were so many times when I felt like I was not enough, that everything I had fought for was useless” Rio sobs “Many times I felt like I was falling and the only person that I ever cared for wasn’t there to catch me”

Agatha’s eyes were burning, the realization that when she thought she was doing Rio a favor for leaving her alone to continue with her life was indeed the worst thing she had ever done. All the hurt she caused, at this moment she didn’t feel too different from her mother. 

Even if it was a lie, even if she already knew nothing of this was her fault. After many years of therapy, after she literally had to learn to love, to trust, to fucking live again. She wasn’t this mess her mother made her believe, she was a kind person that had dreams, aspirations.

A person who deserved just to live.

Before any of them could say anything else the door behind them creaked open.

Carol.

“Hey. Dessert’s about to start” She said with a calm voice and that polite smile that made Agatha want to puke.

Agatha stepped back trying to hide her face and her teary eyes.

Rio didn’t turned but she put her best composed voice “Be right there”

Carol gave Agatha a glance that wasn’t cruel. Just... not right.

And then she slipped back inside.

Rio didn’t move.

Agatha looked at her one last time “I’m not going to ruin this for you”

Rio shook her head “You couldn’t ruin anything”

“But I did” Agatha said, barely audible “And I can’t do it again, I’m not gonna do this to you”

This time, when she walked away, Rio didn’t stop her.

But god, she felt it.

And so did Agatha, every single step felt like she was walking through her own personal purgatory. A wedding toast waiting to collapse into a confession. A love story that refused to fucking die.

And it wasn’t over. Not really.

Because you don’t look at someone like that unless there’s still something buried underneath the years.

And Agatha? She’d never been good at letting go.

Especially not when someone looked at her like home.

She told herself it was because she was an adult. Because she had manners. Because she could sit through one goddamn evening without combusting like some emotionally constipated teenager at prom.

But mostly it was because she wasn’t done looking at Rio.

Inside, the candlelight was lower now, maybe it was also the wine kicking in, or her body reacting to the past 30 hours. The music had changed, something slow playing on the piano and everyone seemed tipsy enough not to notice the stupid tension between her and the woman she couldn’t stop wanting.

Agatha sank back into her seat, pushing her plate away. The food was good. Or so she’d heard. She couldn't fucking remember a single bite.

She caught Wanda’s eye across the table and her old friend raised a brow as if to say ‘You still alive?’

Agatha raised her wine in silent answer but didn’t drink. She had already sober up after her talk with Rio. And she didn’t wanted to repeat the thing from yesterday, it was already too fucked up for her to lose control again. 

Later she found herself near one of the private lounges, attempting to avoid eye contact with literally everyone. She wanted to leave since the moment she came in but as the fake idgafer she was, she stayed. 

That’s when she felt the tap on her shoulder.

Her heart jumped for a second until she turned and found a familiar face. Silver curls hanging in an updo with a characteristic soft and gentle look. 

Lilia.

And beside her, Sharon. Rounder face, softer smile, the kind of warmth Agatha hadn’t known she missed until it hit her like a freight train.

Sometimes she couldn’t believe they weren’t Rio’s biologicals, not that it mattered, of course. But she was just like them. Gentle and soft as Sharon but strong and fearless as Lilia. 

“Agatha, bambina!” Lilia said, arms open before she even finished the name.

Agatha folded into the hug before she couldn’t stop herself. God, they still smelled the same. Expensive perfume and lavender and something like safety.

“We didn’t get a chance to say hi earlier” Sharon said gently, already wrapping her arms around Agatha once Lilia let go “You look good, sweetheart. Tired, but good”

Agatha laughed or tried to. It came out more like a wheeze “Story of my life”

“So” Lilia said, tilting her head with that mother expression that saw too much “How’s life treating you?”

Agatha blinked “Work’s busy, city is cold. I’m still writing. Doing some foreign correspondent stuff. Sometimes freelance” Her mouth kept going before her brain caught up but it has always been this easy with them.

“I spent a month in Cairo last year. And before that, Brasil. It’s been… a lot”

Sharon smiled, bringing her hands to Agatha’s face. Pride tucked in her expression “I knew you were always meant for big things. And I’m so proud of you, honey”

Agatha tried not to let that break her, but fuck, it did. 

Because these women weren’t just Rio’s parents. For a few golden years, they were hers too. Her second home. Her safety net, sunday dinners and rides to school and the first people who told her she wasn’t too much.

“I’m glad you’re here” Lilia said, voice low “She never said it, but… you really mattered. I know you still do”

Agatha swallowed the lump in her throat “Thanks”

“Be brave kiddo and don’t forget we are so proud of you, even when you don’t believe it yourself  sometimes” Sharon said before giving her one last hug.

She couldn’t still believe how everyone was gentle and nice to her, after everything, after all the damage.

By the time the venue had half emptied and the music was still playing , Jen and Alice were at the dance floor swinging at the sound of the piano, looking at each other like always, with love and understanding. The same way Wanda was with her husband. 

It hurt Agatha, seeing how the thing she was supposed to have, now she had to watch it through her friends. She was happy for them, she really was. 

But it killed her.

And across the room, drink in hand, curls falling loose, jacket now gone, Rio looked the exact same kind of devastated, even with Carol at her side.

Agatha didn’t give herself another second to think about it and reached for her coat and purse, making her way to the exit. She was done pretending today. 

Her heart was done beating for today.

And fuck. That was it.

Rio was talking with some guests until she stopped and followed Agatha to the exit. 

“Leaving already?” Rio’s voice slid through the dark like a knife, that dangerous kind of calm Agatha hadn’t heard in way too long.

She froze. Like, deer in headlights kind of freeze. You could practically hear the screech of metaphorical brakes. 

Real fucking subtle, Agatha. 

She’d been trying to ghost out, slip away without making a scene. But of course the one goddamn person she was praying wouldn’t notice her exit? Noticed.

Because of course it was Rio. That woman could smell Agatha’s bullshit from three counties away. Always could.

“I…uh- it’s a long drive back” Agatha mumbled, already cringing at how weak it sounded. Like that excuse had ever worked.

Rio let out a dry, humorless laugh, the kind that didn’t touch her eyes.“Jesus, when are you gonna learn to lie like you mean it?”

“Oh, give me a break” Agatha sighed, already tired, already aching. Heart feeling like it’d been put through a blender and then set on fire for good measure.

Rio stepped closer, slow and heavy, like gravity had just remembered Agatha owed it something. She could barely breathe with her that close.

“I stopped by my mom’s this morning” Rio said out of nowhere “Found a few things. Thought you might want your shit back”

Ah. That shit.

All the stuff she left behind when she ran like a coward. The kind of things that used to feel like home and now just felt radioactive.

“It’s fine. You don’t-” Agatha started, but Rio cut her off.

“You should”

A beat passed. Then two.

“Are we ever gonna be able to let this just… fucking die?” Agatha asked, voice cracking right in the middle.

Rio didn’t even blink “It’s been eighteen years, Agatha. If it was gonna die, it’d be in the ground by now”

And that was it. That was the thing that broke her.

“I’m sorry” Agatha whispered, tears already slipping down before she could stop them.

Rio’s expression softened, just a flicker, but it hit like a punch to the gut “Yeah. Me too” 

Then again out of nowhere “Can I hug you?”

Pause.

That question hits Agatha like a fucking truck and she wants to say no. She tries to say no.

God, she needs to say no.

Because if she touches Rio again, f skin meets skin, even through a damn layer of fabric, then whatever fragile distance she’s built, whatever cold, and dead thing she’s tried to grow in place of what they had, it’ll shatter. 

Completely. 

And she’ll never be able to kill this thing between them. Not ever.

And hope? That lying little bastard? She doesn’t want it. Not now. Not this late. Not when she’s survived so long without it.

But of course, of course she says yes.

Because how the fuck can she say no to that?

Rio steps in and wraps her arms around Agatha’s waist like she’s done it a thousand times before and it’s awful how right it feels. But her hands weigh a thousand pounds. Like anchors. Like fucking home. 

It’s safety wrapped in pain, arms made of barbed wire, hugging her through the thin layer of her dress and still somehow leaving marks underneath.

Agatha lets her. Pulls her in deeper, even. 

Because even when love hurts like hell, it’s still the best damn thing this fucked up world ever gave her.

And for a second, just one stolen second, it feels like time stops. Like they’re suspended in something sacred. Like they’re them again. But a few heartbeats later because reality is rude like that, Agatha leans back just enough to see her.

Rio’s face is wet. Not a single graceful tear, no cinematic bullshit. Just soaked. Eyes red, cheeks shining, lips trembling like she’s been holding all this in for years and finally let the dam break.

“Rio…” Agatha breathes, barely above a whisper.

Rio doesn’t answer. Doesn’t need to.

She just lifts her hands and cups Agatha’s face so gently it fucking kills her. Her thumbs move across her cheeks the way they did all those nights so long ago, when they were stupid and in love and thought forever was something they could actually have.

Agatha closes her eyes and leans into it. Just for a second.

Because if this is going to ruin her again, it might as well feel like heaven on the way down.

“Ojos tan azules como el poderoso océano, navegaría con gusto en ellos por el resto de mi vida”

Agatha broke instantly. 

“No, stop. Don’t -please, don’t say that” she choked out, like saying it fast enough could undo it. Could make it not real.

But Rio wasn’t finished 

“Y si vivo cien años, Agatha” she said, steady, deliberate, a goddamn dagger to the chest “Cien años pienso en ti”

Fuck.

Agatha remembered the first time Rio said those words. They were fifteen, under the stars at Rio's garden. The first time in her existence she felt loved for real.

And now here they are, older, smarter. But still so fucking reckless when it came to each other.

Agatha wanted to kiss her.

Hard and free. Drag her out of this goddamn building, steal a car, burn the fucking road behind them and just go. No looking back. No explanations. Just them.

Just her.

But this wasn’t a hallmark rom-com or a telenovela. Some dreamy little queer love story where they ride off into the sunset, free and invincible.

This was real life.

And inside that building,  behind those perfect doors, under those perfect lights,  there was a person waiting. Wearing a smile that had no idea what was happening out here. A person ready to take Rio’s name. Rio’s hand. Rio’s entire fucking future.

Yet, she kissed her.

It wasn’t sweet or cute. It was messy, desperate, soulripping and heartaching. If Agatha had dropped dead right then, still tasting Rio’s mouth on hers, still shaking from it,  she would’ve gone happy.

They pulled apart at the same time, like if touching each other burned the fuck out of them. Rio's big eyes couldn’t be wider after this. Agatha was panting as if she had run a 5k marathon. Then Rio took Agatha's hand, fast and secure. 

And naturally, Agatha followed.

She would do it, everywhere, blindfolded, out of this planet without question.

They didn't make it to neptune, even when it felt like that. The old green house at the end of the garden was everything they had right now, but the moment the glass doors closed Agatha was already shoved into one of the walls. Rio's hands worked faster (not enough to her liking) but they seemed to never stop. She was feeling Agatha in every possible way. 

And it was so wrong, so fucked and so perfect.

Agatha gasped into Rio’s mouth, nails digging into the fabric of her suit vest, dragging her close enough that their ribs pressed and their hearts beat in chaos against each other. It was a kiss meant to devour, to bruise, to erase eighteen fucking years of silence. Desperate. Angry. Worshipful.

Rio’s hands slipped under the wrap of Agatha’s dress, fingers skating over bare thighs until she hissed against Rio’s lips, the sound breaking into a moan.

“You’re fucking impossible” Agatha muttered, voice broken, hands clawing at Rio’s back like she could anchor herself in flesh alone.

“Shut up” Rio growled, her forehead pressed to Agatha’s “Just- shut up and let me have you”

And Agatha did. God help her, she did. 

She tilted her head back, surrendering her throat to Rio’s mouth, gasping when teeth scraped over the sensitive skin there. The sting of it, her entire body jerked in response.

Fingers pushed between her thighs, quick and relentless, dragging over the damp silk of her underwear until Agatha cursed, loud and filthy, clutching at Rio’s shoulders.

“Fuck! Rio-”

The sound Rio made in answer was fucking feral. Her fingers slid inside, rough, unhesitating, curling like she’d never forgotten how Agatha’s body sang for her.

And Agatha’s legs spread wider without thinking, her back didn't touch the wall once, her own hand diving under Rio’s suit. She didn’t bother with finesse, just shoved past waistband and lace until she had Rio’s heat in her palm.

They moaned into each other’s mouths, obscene and honestly? fucking perfect. The wet sounds of fingers working, pushing, pulling, filling the space like a goddamn hymn. Agatha curled her fingers inside Rio just as Rio did the same and the brutal mirror of it almost undid them both.

“You feel the same” Agatha whispered, voice trembling, forehead crashing into Rio’s “God, you feel the same-”

The air grew hotter, fogging the glass. Their bodies slapped, tangled, desperate. It wasn’t graceful, it was raw, the kind of sex that tore you open and stitched you back together in the same motion.

Rio’s breath was hot against her lips, her rhythm stuttering for half a second before she doubled down, fucking into Agatha with purpose “I hate you, you have no idea” 

Agatha’s moans grew sharper, higher, as Rio’s thumb found her clit, circling hard and fast. Her hips bucked, chasing it, breaking apart into Rio’s mouth with a cry that was half agony, half release.

“Say that again, please. Say it until you actually believe it, until you do it for real” Agatha says

“I fucking hate you, mi vida” Rio said with a cry.  Agatha’s fingers buried inside her, her own climax tearing out of her in a shudder that almost felt like it was breaking her bones. She collapsed against Agatha, shaking, their sweat mingling, hearts pounding too loud in the thick night air.

For a long moment, they just breathed, trembling against each other, still touching, still buried in each other’s hands. The kind of intimacy that made it impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Then Rio heard Agatha let out a sob, her pair of oceans were pouring violently and almost without thinking she started to cry too. It was silent, just them gasping for air, fighting the moment but still holding every piece of each other. 

“I wish I didn’t loved you this much-” Rio says “it would make it easier ”

Agatha cleaned Rio's mascara tears with the back of her hand “I know, I wish that too”

For a long moment, they just stayed still, clinging to each other like lifelines, tears streaking both their faces.

“I hate you for leaving. I hate you for still being the only person I’ll ever want”

Agatha’s chest caved, pressing a kiss to her damp cheek “Then hate me forever, I can take it. Just don’t stop loving me because I- I would die, I refuse to live in a world where you don’t love me”

Rio closed her eyes, maybe thinking that if she does that it would bring her back to the past once she opened them. But before she could say or do anything else Agatha leaned in again, kissing her soft and broken.

“You don’t have to forgive me. But please, just... keep living”

With that, Agatha left. Again. 

And Rio stayed there, again. 

Because when there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.