@heygutlcss​  /  riff  sent:  “  no  ,  you’re  not  going  anywhere  .  you  have  a  fever  .  ”

 if  the  housekeeper  has  become  suspicious  of  all  these  sick  days  she’s  been  taken,  when  in  the  past,  johanna  would  rather  trudge  through  a  day  of  school  than  be  stuck  at  home  (  trapped  ),  she  does  not  make  any  show  of  it.  not  that  johanna  has  been  taking  too  much  advantage  of  claiming  she  felt  ill  during  the  past  few  months.  it  was  only  a  few  times.  only  on  the  days  that  riff  and  her  planned  out  beforehand.  if  she  ever  became  suspicious  that  she  was  sneaking  someone  into  her  room  during  those  days,  she  does  not  hint  at  it.  

 today,  however,  johanna  has  been  confronted  with  all  of  these  lies  in  a  physical  form.  for  all  the  days  she’s  claimed  her  body  aches  all  over,  she’s  woken  up  unable  to  identify  where  she’s  sore  because  there  is  no  specific  part  of  her.  for  each  time,  she  said  she’s  had  a  headache,  today  her  head  pounds.  it’s  god’s  revenge  on  her  for  all  of  her  lies  (  johanna  has  yet  to  consider  that  it  may  be  the  bug  that  everyone’s  been  getting  at  school  lately  ).  even  without  holding  her  hand  up  to  her  head,  she  can  tell  she’s  sick.  

 riff  finds  her  by  the  window,  waiting  for  him  as  usual.  though,  he  looks  far  worse  than  her.  why  he’s  decided  she  has  a  fever  after  barely  feeling  her  forehead,  she  doesn’t  understand.  johanna  simply  rolls  her  eyes  at  him  and  practically  pulls  him  further  into  the  room.  touching  his  wrist  already  tells  her  what  she  was  afraid  to  find  out.  

 ❝  you  don’t  exactly  feel  like  a  refrigerator,  either,  ❞  she  rasps,  holding  up  a  hand  to  his  forehead  to  officially  test.  the  fact  that  a  side  effect  of  this  particular  ailment  is  loosing  one’s  voice  puts  her  on  edge.  ❝  i  wasn’t  going  anywhere.  just  because  i’m  dressed  doesn’t  mean  i  was  leaving.  ❞  the  natural  instinct  of  getting  ready  for  school  and  even  attending  class  while  in  this  state  kicked  in  before  she  could  think.  johanna  clears  her  throat.  ❝  besides,  you’re  early.  ❞  apparently,  clearing  her  throat  had  done  nothing  for  it.  ❝  he  still  hasn’t  left  yet.  you’re  sick.  i  don’t  know  about  me,  but  you  absolutely  are.  you  are  not  going  to  school  today.  ❞

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: i'm not ready to do this.

it was only a few hours ago that she was threatening to sue the hospital if they didn’t let her husband into the delivery room. that moment feels like days ago. more of a fever dream that an event that actually happened. nurses screaming at her to breath when she wished she could scream back at them, but didn’t have an ounce of energy for explain that she was trying, just that giving birth was making it a little difficult. squeezing onto riff’s hand and apologizing for squeezing too hard afterwards. seeing a little glimpse of their baby before being told that they have a girl. 

a nap plus a shower ( that she had to be assisted with ) later, johanna stares ahead of her at the white hospital walls. they have a baby now. they aren’t even allowed to see her, but they have a baby now. they’re supposed to protect her and keep her alive. despite all of johanna’s previous attempts, they don’t even have a name for her. how are they supposed to be her parents? a nurse -- or whatever the title is at the hospital -- is supposed to come in to teach her how to bottle feed. she doesn’t even know that. 

turning towards riff, she squeezes his hand ( not nearly as hard as before ). ❝ i know. ❞ it feels like they should be ready now. her guardian came in to interrogate her. shouldn’t answering all of those questions make her feel like like she’s supposed to be here? aren’t mother’s supposed to know exactly what to do in every situation? the only thing johanna knows is to panic. ❝ i know. she’ll be in here soon though; maybe we’ll feel more ready once we’re actually allowed to see her? ❞ it doesn’t seem likely. ❝ they just . . . took her away. perhaps, if we have more time . . . it’ll help? ❞

 @heygutlcss​​​  /  riff  sent:  “  is…  is  it  mine?  ”

 it’s  a  suspicion  that’s  been  weighing  down  on  her  shoulders  for  the  past  .  .  .  it  seems  like  forever.  reasonably,  johanna  shouldn’t  started  worrying  about  it  for  longer  than  that;  ever  since  she  first  realized  that  that  time  of  the  month  hadn’t,  well,  started  when  it  was  supposed  to.  then  it  never  did  and  she  realized  this  is  a  possibility  now.  all  those  extra  times  asking  for  the  bathroom  pass  and  the  nausea  she  prayed  to  god  would  pass  quickly  clicked.  

 she  didn’t  know  how  riff  would  react.  it’s  less-than-ideal  circumstances.  johanna  always  expected  to  one  day  have  a  few  babies  of  her  own,  but  not  so  soon.  especially  not  while  she  isn’t  married  and  especially  with  the  judge  looming  over  her  shoulder.  if  he  found  out  she  even  had  reason  to  be  suspicious  .  .  .  the  thought  ties  her  stomach  in  knots.  once  he  found  out  about  riff,  he  would  kill  him.  how  dare  he  corrupt  his  ward.  johanna  should  have  told  riff  sooner.  he  is  her  boyfriend,  no  matter  how  silly  she  finds  that  term  to  be;  she  should  have  told  him  the  moment  she  starting  having  suspicions.  

 ❝  whose  else’s  would  it  be?  ❞  fingers  move  through  her  curls,  each  other  springing  back  up  as  if  she  hadn’t  tampered  with  it  at  all.  ❝  you’re  the  only  one  i’ve  ever  done  that  with.  ❞  johanna  glances  at  the  door  again.  telling  him  at  his  trailer  is  their  safest  option,  yet  she  still  worries  that  his  aunt  might  come  in  as  if  she  lives  here.  ❝  i  don’t  cheat.  especially  not  on  you.  ❞  for  a  second,  she  wonders  if  he  means  that  the  father  could  be  him.  part  of  her  can’t  blame  him.  riff  isn’t  blind  to  what  happens  with  the  judge,  as  much  as  she  tries  to  shelter  him  from  it.  but  he’s  never  tried  anything  as  far  as  that.  

 johanna  sighs,  wrapping  her  cardigan  firmer  around  herself.  ❝  i  don’t  know  for  certain  yet.  i  just  .  .  .  i  think  .  .  .  ❞  another  sigh.  ❝  i  don’t  know  what  else  it  could  be.  i’m  sick  all  the  time  and  i  don’t  know  if  you  noticed  that  i  didn’t  drag  you  to  that  aisle  at  all  last  months.  ❞  despite  everything  it  took  to  get  them  into  this  situation,  she  pales  at  the  mention  of  something  as  delicate  as  the  feminine  experience.  hands  move  to  cover  her  face.  didn’t  his  aunt  accuse  them  of  this  very  thing  only  a  few  months  ago?  

 ❝  there’s  those  tests  at  the  pharmacy.  to  see  if  you  are.  i  can’t  just  ask  my  guardian  to  take  me  to  the  doctor  to  see.  i,  um,  snuck  about  ten  dollars  so  i  could  get  one.  that’s  how  much  they  are.  i  checked.  ❞  johanna  uncovers  her  face,  looking  back  a  riff.  ❝  i  just  don’t  want  to  do  it  alone.  ❞

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: foreheads  touching

she’s been choking on her own sobs for the past hour. trying her hardest not to start crying. it might wake up the baby. it might wake up her guardian. it might make him think he’s won. it will only make riff more upset. every time she thinks she might burst into tears, she pinches herself. arms are now decorated with pale crescent moons where her skin is trying to fade back to normal. johanna isn’t letting it. if she does, she’ll start crying. next the baby will cry until the entire household is awake. 

despite their circumstances, everything has been too good. they’re married, at least ( wasn’t it almost two years ago when she confessed she wanted to marry him? ). their baby is healthy. they’re able to sleep in the same bed now. it wouldn’t be too long until he found a way to tear them apart. brutally. without a hint of remorse. johanna thought they had more than six months. thought that he would at least give them a year. but a year was too much time. they might figure out an escape by then. seeing the divorce papers physically and hearing his ultimatum made her feel sick.  

❝ i don’t want you to go, ❞ johanna mumbles again. she doesn’t want her baby to grow up without a father. the last thing she wants is for her daughter to become her. it’s a cruel, cruel thing to force riff to choose between his daughter and his brother. she leans forward, meaning to hit her forehead with her husband’s chest, but meets his forehead instead. the baby is curled up in his arms, sleeping peacefully. a surge of jealousy tears through johanna’s chest. she wishes she could be asleep, without knowing what her guardian will do the second her husband is out of the picture. ❝ she needs you. and i know your brother needs you, too. and . . . ❞ i need you. ❝ i don’t know. ❞

 @heygutlcss​​  (  starter  call.  )

 ❝  i  want  to  marry  you.  ❞

 it  isn’t  often  that  they  end  up  in  his  bed.  usually,  in  the  back  of  someone  else’s  car  in  the  parking  lot  of  the  library  or  grocery  store.  her  own  bed  is  strictly  off  limits  for  obvious  reasons.  on  the  rare  occasion,  johanna  can  sneak  him  in  through  the  window,  they  risk  getting  caught  by  the  housekeeper  (  who  would  in  turn,  tell  her  guardian,  who  in  turn  would  .  .  .  she  doesn’t  want  to  think  about  it  ).  the  only  reason  they  made  to  riff’s  trailer,  to  his  bed,  is  because  her  guardian  is  gone  for  the  weekend  and  mrs.  eastman  is  under  the  impression  she’s  staying  for  an  event  at  the  library.  usually,  at  this  point,  johanna  would  be  frantically  putting  back  on  every  item  of  clothing  she’d,  well,  removed  while  throwing  his  things  at  him  to  get  them  to  get  out  faster.  

 laying  here  next  to  him  is  peaceful.  a  finger  trailing  along  his  shoulder.  a  gentle  kiss.  it’s  safe.  despite  knowing  she  needs  to  go  to  the  house  soon.  despite  the  fact  this  moment  can’t  last  forever,  this  is  the  safest  she’s  felt  in  a  long  time.  safe  enough  to  admit  something  so  scared  out  loud  to  riff.  it  doesn’t  seem  to  matter  that  they’re  young  and  all  they  want  is  to  get  away.  she  can  whisper  her  vulnerabilities  to  him.  

 ❝  that  isn’t  just  the  hormones  either.  ❞  adjusting  the  sheet  so  it  stays  above  her  chest,  she  turns  over  to  look  at  him  better.  ❝  perhaps,  a  little  of  it  is.  my  brain  is  only  used  to  be  scared  so  it  doesn’t  know  what  to  do  when  i’m  happy,  but  it’s  true.  ❞  gaze  flickers  away  from  him  for  a  moment  before  looking  back.  she  could  wake  up  every  day  like  this.  ❝  i’m  sorry  for  springing  it  on  you  like  this.  we’ve  only  talked  about  getting  away  and  not  really  what  happens  after  so  i  won’t  blame  you  for  being  surprised.  it’  s  just  .  .  .  ❞

 how  does  she  begin  to  describe  it?  ❝  i  don’t  like  to  think  too  far  ahead  about  the  future.  when  i  do,  though,  you’re  always  there.  you’re  never  not  there.  with  me.  i  don’t  know  what  it  looks  like  exactly.  i’ve  never  thought  that  far.  it’s  just  me  and  you.  ❞  she  pauses  to  take  a  breath.  to  think  through  every  word.  it  isn’t  enough  to  describe  it.  nothing  ever  will  be,  she  thinks.  a  gentle  hand  reaches  to  brush  away  a  stray  hair  on  his  face.  

 ❝  i  love  you.  and  i  want  to  marry  you.  ❞

 @heygutlcss  /  riff  sent:  ❛  what  do  you  want  for  dinner  ?  my  treat  !  ❜  

 they've  never  been  on  a  proper  date.  while  johanna  listened  as  other  girls  happily  discuss  every  detail  of  the  last  school  dance  and  awkward  classmates  shyly  ask  a  friend  to  go  with  them  to  get  ice  cream,  she  can't  even  admit  to  anyone  that  and  and  riff  are  something  together.  they've  participated  in  certain  things  in  the  back  of  cars  though  they've  yet  to  actually  get  caught.  the  amount  of  times  they  don't  realize  they're  holding  hands  in  the  hallways  might've  given  them  away,  yet  no  one  said  anything  about  it.  dates  for  them  are  occasionally  sneaking  off  to  the  library  together  or  stopping  by  the  supermarket  to  pick  up  a  treat  before  school  started.  that's  been  completely  alright  with  her.

 this  sounds  like  an  actual  date.  dinner.  together.  him  paying.  this  is  exactly  what  people  think  of  when  the  word  date  is  mentioned.  

 ❝  just  because  he's  out  of  town  doesn't  mean  you  have  to  pay  for  me.  i  have  other  ways  of  getting  ahold  of  money,  you  know.  ❞  a  whole  weeks  with  her  guardian  across  the  state  for  a  conference.  what  was  a  sweet  relief  before  has  turned  into  a  week  of  paradise.  they've  been  able  to  be  more  casual  about  everything.  more  free.  despite  herself,  johanna  feels  a  flutter  of  butterflies  soar  through  her  stomach  as  she  thinks  about  it.  she  assumed  that  was  behind  her,  yet  here  she  is  now.  

 though,  riff  knows  how  she  is  about  food.  aside  from  mrs.  eastman  and  her  guardian,  he's  the  only  person  to  have  noticed  something  off.  accepting  silly  treats  like  snoballs  or  zingers  from  him  was  a  difficult  step  to  take.  part  of  her  wonders  if  this  is  an  attempt  to  make  sure  she  eats  a  full  meal  because  he  can't  control  what  she  does  during  lunch,  yet  the  flutters  in  johanna's  stomach  win.  she  wants  to  go  to  dinner  with  him.  

 ❝  you  really  don't  have  to.  ❞  brows  raise  as  if  to  ask,  you  would  do  that  for  me?  ❝  mrs.  eastman  cooks.  ❞  she  knows  nearly  every  way  to  make  it  look  as  if  she  ate  everything  on  her  plate.  ❝  besides,  i  don't  know  anywhere  in  town.  we  don't  go  out.  ever.  we  should  probably  be  saving  our  money  if  anything.  we  can  meet  up  to  do  something  else  instead.  ❞  it's  her  own  fault  she's  loosing  this  chance,  yet  she  doesn't  want  to  give  it  up  entirely.  ❝  if  you,  um,  really  wanted  to  --  which  i'm  not  saying  you  should  --  where,  uh,  would  you  want  to  go?  ❞

 @heygutlcss​​  /  riff  sent:  [  SAFE  ]:    sender  wraps  their  arms  around  the  receiver  after  (the  sender)  was  in  a  very  nearly  lethal  situation,  and  spoons  with  them  out  of  relief  for  their  own  survival.

 she  always  thought  she  would  be  dead  by  now.  what  cause  or  reason  has  never  been  clear  to  her,  just  the  fact  that  by  the  time  she  was  twenty,  she  would  be  dead.  murdered,  perhaps.  several  people  went  missing  after  all.  despite  the  judge’s  harsh  rules,  he  could  not  save  her  from  that.  when  johanna  was  in  labor,  she  had  half  a  thought  that  all  that  pain  was  going  to  be  the  end  of  her,  yet  she  survived.  

 then  there  was  the  earthquake  where  it  felt  like  the  earth  was  ripping  apart  with  each  powerful  thrust.  the  world  hadn’t  collapsed,  however  the  same  could  not  be  said  about  hawkins.  when  johanna  turned  on  the  radio  in  the  car  they  had  stolen,  they  said  there  were  at  least  ten  people  dead  and  counting.  all  she  could  think  was  that  she  was  surprised  she  wasn’t  one  of  them.  

 instead  they  smile  and  nodded  their  way  through  getting  pulled  over  and  eventually  ditched  the  car  to  walk  over  to  the  nearest  motel.  the  baby  had  been  quiet,  something  johanna  will  never  stop  thanking  god  for.  perhaps,  even  more  often  than  for  saving  their  lives.  fixing  her  formula  in  a  gas  station  bathroom  was  far  from  the  most  glorious  thing  she’s  ever  done,  but  their  daughter  needed  to  eat  and  that  was  the  best  they  could  do.  

 they  didn’t  have  a  lot  with  them.  in  the  midst  of  their  panic,  in  the  midst  of  realizing  that  they  could  use  this  natural  disaster  to  their  advantage,  they’d  forgotten  the  bag  they  packed.  it’s  a  miracle  johanna  grabbed  the  formula  and  money  (  and  took  a  moment  to  release  her  birds  from  their  cage  ).  the  first  thing  she  did  upon  arriving  was  fix  a  bed  for  the  baby.  the  spare  sheets  fixed  together  nicely  for  her.  johanna  was  afraid  to  just  leave  her  there.  it  took  more  effort  than  she  would  like  to  admit  for  her  to  get  into  bed.  they  would  need  their  beauty  sleep.  

 she  feels  riff’s  arms  around  her  as  she  clings  into  the  corner  of  a  pillowcase,  trying  to  forget  about  that  earthquake.  she  hadn’t  realized  how  much  it  scared  her  until  now.  what  if  she  dropped  the  baby  on  accident?  what  if  riff  wasn’t  there?  he  could  have  died.  they’ve  been  too  close  to  this  before.  the  days  he  spent  in  prison  were  too  long.  she  couldn’t  live  a  lifetime  without  him.  johanna  holds  her  arms  around  his.  nightclothes  were  forgotten  in  the  moment  and  the  best  she  could  do  to  make  herself  comfortable  was  stripping  down  to  her  underthings,  but  it  feels  better  to  feel  his  skin  like  this.  to  know  he’s  alive.  

 ❝  is  the  baby  okay?  ❞  johanna  mumbles,  trying  her  best  to  look  at  him.  ❝  she’s  quiet,  but  .  .  .  ❞

 @heygutlcss​  /  riff  sent:  ‘  how  about  i  take  you  home?  ’

 she  looks  at  him  as  if  he  offered  to  deliver  the  moon  to  her  on  a  silver  platter,  not  the  simple  offer  of  walking  her  home.  walk  her  home.  walk  side  by  side  until  they  got  to  her  house  and  he  said  goodbye  and  walks  away  as  if  he  thought  nothing  of  it.  johanna  hates  how  she  feels  around  him  now,  chest  tightening,  palms  clammy,  lips  slightly  parted  as  if  she  gaping  up  at  the  stars  in  a  hazy  heaven  above  her  instead  of  at  a  boy.  at  him.  it  wasn’t  like  that  before,  but  ever  since  they’ve  begun  spending  more  time  together  because  she  wanted  to  know  how  he  got  out,  she’s  slowly  developed  the  symptoms  of  some  respiratory  disease.  it  isn’t  a  fever.  not  at  all.

 ❝  um,  are  you  sure?  ❞  mouth  dry,  she  puts  away  one  of  several  books  she  checked  out  at  the  school  library  into  her  backpack.  did  she  freeze  when  he  offered  to  take  her  home?  oh,  she  hopes  not.  what  if  riff  starts  to  think  .  .  .  well,  she  doesn’t  know  what  he’ll  think.  johanna  just  doesn’t  want  him  to  think  that  she’s  weird  around  him  now.  or  weird  in  general  (  which  she  knows,  she’s  likely  considered  to  be  .  .  .  not  especially  normal  with  her  random  habits  during  class,  but  she’s  been  able  to  blend  into  the  background  ).  ❝  you’ll  have  to  stop  a  few  blocks  away.  he’s  not  home,  but  if  my  guardian  saw  you  .  .  .  ❞

 johanna  hasn’t  even  considered  what  the  judge  would  do  if  he  saw  her  with  a  boy  her  age  (  the  audacity  ).  it  won’t  be  a  smile  of  a  supportive  parent  and  a  firm  handshake.  even  if  she  explained  that  it  isn’t  like  that,  the  judge  would  do  anything  he  could  to  get  riff  away.  and  despite  how  much  she  know  she  shouldn’t,  her  heart  secretly  sinks  at  knowing  that  riff  wouldn’t  like  her  in  that  way.  it  isn’t  that  she  likes  him  that  way,  it’s  just  .  .  .  she  doesn’t  want  to  think  about  it.

 she  tucks  a  stray  curl  over  her  ear.  ❝  there’s  been  a  lot  of  strange  things  happening.  i  don’t  really  know  much  about  anything,  but  word  gets  around.  i,  um,  i  probably  should  have  someone  with  me  just  in  case.  if  i  went  missing,  he  would  be  .  .  .  ❞  would  he  even  care?  the  question  completely  dissolves  at  johanna  looking  up  at  riff  and  realizing  just  how  tall  he  is.  her  knees  buckle.  she  looks  away.  ❝  i  may  be  trying  to  get  away,  but  i  would  like  it  be  to  be  on  my  own  accord.  ❞  what  is  she  saying?  she’s  rambling.  ❝  i’ll  show  you  the  way.  if  you  don’t  mind,  of  course.  i  don’t  want  to  make  you.  ❞  please,  walk  me  home.  she  might  die.

 @heygutlcss​​​  /  riff  sent:  ❛  i’m  trying  —  i’m  trying  so  fucking  hard  ,  but  nothing’s  working  .  ❜

 she  doesn’t  know  when  she  fell  for  him,  only  that  one  day  they  were  partnered  up  for  projected  then  the  next  she  saw  him  and  it  was  different.  the  air  was  tighter.  the  slope  of  his  jaw  was  sharper.  electricity  buzzed  through  her  fingertips  when  they  accidently  brushed  hands.  what  was  strictly  a  friendship  before  (  she  likes  to  think  they’re  friends  --  they  are  running  away  together  ),  had  a  desire  associated  with  it  that  reached  beyond  simple  companionship.  any  excuse  she  could  come  up  with  to  get  him  over,  she  took  before  the  offer  was  fully  thought  through.  suddenly,  the  tap  was  jammed,  a  door  squeaked  upon  opening,  the  sink  wouldn’t  drain  right.  it  wasn’t  a  terrible  way  to  get  their  hands  on  more  money.  riff  should  keep  anything  they  collected  anyway.  johanna  couldn’t.  she  knew  he  was  too  proud  to  take  it  by  itself.  

 looking  over  her  shoulder  to  make  sure  mrs.  eastman  isn’t  in  sight,  she  turns  back  to  where  riff  is  crouched  in  front  of  the  sink  (  which  concerns  her  because  of  his  back  ).  despite  his  frustration,  she  smiles.  whether  the  sink  really  was  broken  or  not  is  a  different  story.  one  that  johanna  isn’t  even  certain  of.  it  just  seemed  different.  a  good  enough  excuse  to  tell  him  to  come  over  as  any.  perhaps,  she  should  explain  that  to  him:  how  she  isn’t  certain,  she  just  has  an  inkling.  yet  looking  at  him  and  leaning  against  the  counterspace,  watching  has  he  works  and  listening  to  his  voice,  there  is  only  one  thing  on  her  mind.  why  she  considers  it  at  all  is  beyond  her,  yet  the  idea  pounds.  the  way  riff  speaks,  the  way  his  hands  move,  the  little  twitch  in  his  facial  muscles.  oh.  

 ❝  can  i  kiss  you?  ❞

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: this feels weird to me.

guessing how her guardian would react was impossible. too impossible to attempt to imagine that scenario until it actually played out. when he picked her up from school, he was quiet. the house was quiet. mrs. eastman prepared food in silent, not even daring to whistle as she usually does. all johanna could do was sit on her bed and wait for him to scream at her again. yet his reaction was calmer than expected; simply walking into her room, telling her to put on whatever sunday dress still fit ( which hurt more than it should have -- of course not everything is going to fit in her condition ), before driving them down to the courthouse. after signing the documents she and riff were forced to sign, he hadn’t explained much. only that her husband would be moving in, but he would stay in a different bedroom. all of his things would arrive eventually. in the meantime, his landlord wanted him out. there’s no place for either of them to run.

they’re still in their sunday clothes. imagining riff at any church service would’ve made her laugh any other time. that very well become a reality now. they don’t have nearly enough time to discuss everything that happened within the span of the past few hours. her guardian will be here soon to separate them ( it’s not as if he can put her in any more of this situation; but apparently sharing the same bed to sleep in is far too much for a married couple to indulge in ). johanna doesn’t want to let go of either of his hands. that feels too dangerous. 

❝ i know, i know. ❞ weird doesn’t describe half of it. weird doesn’t describe the day they found out in the first place. it doesn’t describe the day she went up to a boy with a reputation and asked for his help to get out. ❝ i’m sorry. i didn’t know he would react like this. i thought maybe we would have more time before he found out. it’s all my fault, i’m sorry. ❞ she lifts both of their hands to dry her eye on the back of hers. if her guardian sees her crying, he’ll know he won. ❝ i don’t know what he’ll do in the morning, but . . . ❞ a breath. johanna looks back up at riff. ❝ he locks the door at night. don’t try to protest. go along with what he tells you to do. i don’t want to know what he’ll do if you don’t. don’t try to argue your way into my room. that absolutely won’t work. just - ❞ she sighs ❝ - don’t fight him. at least he let us get married? and we don’t have to hide the baby anymore? ❞

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: ❛  i got this for you ,  i hope you like it.  ❜

she’s already shaking her head. only slightly, trying to preserve his feelings. gifts are not safe. every time she sees a new bouquet in her room or a dress sprawled out on her bed, her stomach twists. johanna has known for a long time now that her guardian does not view her as a father should view his daughter ( he has never been her father, he simply steers further away from that title as time goes on ), yet it still feels her with the same sick feeling. shouldn’t she be used to it by now. hearing that riff, someone who is safe, has something for her makes her heart plummet to the pit of her abdomen. 

johanna reaches out to take it. perhaps further trying to protect his feelings. she’s hurt him enough already with the way she reacted when he asked if she would be his girlfriend or how she started crying afterwards that time. the little box is lighter than she expected it to be. it isn’t flowers or an item of clothing she knows if she wore, her guardian would call her cruel names for ( despite being the one who made the purchase ). gently, she places the books she was holding on the ground and worked at opening it. 

❝ a mixtape? ❞ flipping it over, she continues to stare down at it with a furrowed brow. mixtape? he knows she doesn’t own a walkman or even allowed to use the stereo. ❝ is this . . . ? ❞ a smile spreads across her lips as she looks back up at riff. ❝ prom? ❞ their little unofficial prom was weeks ago now. when her guardian was away long enough and the library was available. he even got her to dance with him. johanna laughs, holding she can’t believe is so small, yet holds the ability to play so many of her favorite songs to her chest. songs that remind her of him. ❝ you’re giving this to me? ❞

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: “ you said you were about to go to bed two hours ago. c’mon, time’s up. “

sleeping is an impossible task when she can’t get comfortable. she must have broken a record for amount of times she’s rolled over and tossed and turned and all other ways of describing restlessness in bed. tonight, she’s simply given up. it isn’t worth trying to get to asleep. the doctor seems to stress everything she’s most insecure about. sleep, gaining weight, random exams. she’s sick of it. honestly she’s surprised he’s put up with how many times she’s jostled them ( part of her wonders if her guardian hears all the creaking and makes assumptions about what they’re doing when in reality, they’re acting perfectly innocent ). perhaps, the dim flashlight she’s holding while her other hand holds up her book is distracting. 

❝ it hasn’t been two hours. ❞ for all johanna knows, it has. not that the amount she’s gotten into her book would show for it. though she’s given up on sleeping, she still can’t adjust herself into a comfortable position. six more weeks of this? ❝ i can’t sleep. you were in bed with me last night, you know what it was like for me. ❞ not exactly, but close enough. johanna closes her book and reaches for the side of her nightstand to sit her up. ❝ i feel very stereotypical right now, you should know. i hate all of this. ❞ she sets her book away, but keeps the flashlight on. ❝ you know what sounds good right now? brownie batter. i saw you sneak some last time we went to the store. perhaps, that since i’m craving it right now and we have it, we should sneak downstairs and get some? ❞

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: “ i want… a cheeseburger. with fries. and a strawberry shake. and onion rings… ”

sometimes she thinks he’s the only reason she’s alive and others, she’s simply baffled at how he somehow kept her alive. the doctor keeps sending her home after every appointment telling her to gain more weight. for the first time, johanna is more concerned with gaining that weight than loosing it. when riff caught onto the fact she never ate her lunch, it began with the little hostess products she bought at the store before school. sometimes she wonders if that was what kept her alive. they tasted better than she wished they would. right now, her face twists into something beyond plain disgust. despite her condition and the related stereotypes, she can’t imagine consuming that much food. ever. 

❝ that sounds disgusting. ❞ too greasy. too many calories. ❝ i feel sick thinking about it. ❞ though, johanna doesn’t adjust herself from her position laying on the bed with her hair spread out. it seems indiana is welcoming a hot summer. ❝ do you know what he would do if he came out and mrs. eastman was making all that food? i think he might have a heart attack. he’s probably never seen an onion ring before. if he ever finds your zingers or snoballs? ❞ she gives a short laugh. ❝ i can’t even imagine. ❞ she pinches at a curl and brings it closer to her face to play with. ❝ you sound more like the one with the baby than me, the one with the baby. ❞

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: ❝ it’s just scary to open up like that. to say how you really feel. especially to people you care about the most. ❞

she isn’t certain how they’ve gotten here. limbs loosely intertwined in bed, somehow reaching topics they’ve previously snapped at each other for bringing up. they have more time now, too much. perhaps, that prompted such tender confessions. why she brought up her own sleeping habits and the reason why they used to be the way they were ( though, she tries to steer clear of the topic of her guardian; there are things riff shouldn’t know at all and things she doesn’t want to know how he would react to hearing them ). the conversation simply dove deeper than to anywhere they’ve been before. 

turning her head slightly on where it rests on his shoulder, she angles the rest of her body to better view her husband. ❝ i know. ❞ johanna reaches up to move a stray hair. her guardian will want him to get a haircut soon. if he couldn’t have his way, he wanted them to still look as pristine and clean as he presents himself to be. ❝ that’s why we go slow. ❞ painfully slow, as it sometimes seems. while johanna is as hesitant as he is to give away such personal details, she wants to know his. everything about him. ❝ sorry if i kept bumping you. ❞ she adjusts herself slightly. ❝ i keep getting kicked and i think i keep jolting my entire body whenever i do. ❞

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: [ HUM ]:     sender begins to hum soothingly while spooning with the receiver.

they snuck down earlier, prompting her to once again give a quiet thanks to god above that riff knows how to pick locks. he isn’t supposed to be in her room now, but she’ll be the last person to admit that she snuck her own husband into her bedroom for them to sleep in the same bed. johanna hadn’t meant to fall asleep. ruin the little time they have together by sleeping through it ( how dare she be exhausted; even in the state that she’s in, she shouldn’t be this tired ). perhaps, it was the combination of his arms around her and a quiet doziness that made her feel safe enough to fall asleep like this. only to wake up from the sounds of her own sobbing. 

❝ i’m sorry - i’m sorry! ❞ with desperate movements, hands reach out to grab the safest thing around her. sometimes it was a blanket, sometimes it was a pillow, tonight it’s adjusting herself to hold riff. burying her face in his chest, johanna leans her ear against where she knows his heart beats. that’s how she knows he’s alive. if his heart keeping beating and his chest moves up and down, she can prove her dream wrong. johanna doesn’t realize he’s humming until her breathing slows. ❝ is that mr. rogers? ❞ she only knows it from the few episodes riff set up in the library after finding out she barely knew what it was. she can’t say the theme song hasn’t gotten stuck in her head a few times. it makes the world feel a little better. for a moment, she can be silent and listen, allow her eyelids to slowly close again. even as she asks, ❝ did i kick you? in my sleep? ❞

@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: ❛  let me wash your back.  ❜ 

it’s irritating how little freedoms she have been ripped away from her. she can’t even reach her own back anymore. while some days, the changes are enough to make her burst into tears ( which her guardian often waves off as hormones if he sees any of it; that she’s always been this dramatic ), she’s simply irritated at her more limited capabilities as of recent. they don’t have much time together like this as it is. it takes a good few minutes to set up all the towels so no one will be able to see them in case they get home early. having to spend a good majority of their time in the shower attempting to clean herself has her squeezing the soap hard enough so that it slips away, falling on the ground which she cannot simply bend over and reach anymore. 

johanna does not ask for him. to have him offer it when she needs it still shocks her, despite the fact that they’re married and have known each other for a good while now. she gives him the bar of soap. ❝ not below my waist. ❞ that’s usually the rule. she knows riff will respect that wish. she always respects his, even if they don’t understand each other’s little requests. johanna turns around, shifting her hair to fall over her shoulder. ❝ i can’t reach anywhere anymore. i’ve completely forgotten what my feet look like, in case you were wondering. i could not describe them for you if you were to ask. ❞ her complaints are in her typical soft-spoken manner, if it weren’t for the twinge of annoyance in her tone, it wouldn’t be possible to tell she was whining at all. she tries not to. though, it’s been getting more difficult lately. ❝ sorry, ❞ she says once she realizes how that sounded. ❝ it’s just been frustrating. ❞