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#lsu comfort colors t shirt

2godscreationsllc · 2 years

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moonley18 · 6 months

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Fuck Auburn And Lsu And Tennessee Too T-Shirt

Express your true feelings towards rival teams with the Fuck Auburn And Lsu And Tennessee Too Shirt. This bold statement piece isn't just a shirt; it's a declaration of loyalty to your favorite team. Crafted from soft, breathable fabric, this shirt ensures comfort during game days or casual outings.

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newshirtonlines-blog · 2 years

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Sugar Bowl LSU Kickoff 2022 Unisex Fleece shirt

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theallisonedit · 3 years

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Comfort Colors LSU Oversized T-Shirt Tigers Tee.

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mytshirt-trend-blog · 4 years

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LSU Tigers signatures 2019 SEC Football Champions shirt

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lovediva0303 · 4 years

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Lsu Joe Burrow MVp 2019 southeastern Conference shirt

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lovediva013 · 4 years

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Lsu Joe Burrow MVp 2019 southeastern Conference shirt

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lovediva1313 · 4 years

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Lsu Joe Burrow MVp 2019 southeastern Conference shirt

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beautshirt79 · 4 years

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Lsu Joe Burrow MVp 2019 southeastern Conference shirt

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littleoases · 7 years

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The Beginning

Hannah and Baker’s first full day as girlfriends. HNITS verse. 7k.

On that sunny June morning, when Hannah wakes up, she remembers everything is new.

It’s been less than 12 hours since Baker showed up at her house and told her she loved her. Less than 12 hours since Baker kissed her on the street, promising she’d come back first thing in the morning so they could keep talking. And it’s been less than 12 hours since Baker texted her goodnight for the first time in weeks and weeks.

Hannah stretches her arms out to the side, sighing like a love-struck girl in a goddamn movie or something, but she doesn’t even feel embarrassed about it. Everything is too real, too surreal, too incredible to believe. She wants to check her phone, because she knows Baker will be awake already and will have texted her first thing, but she delays it for a little while, savoring the feeling of lying in bed with the sun streaming through the curtains and the echo of Baker’s kiss still buzzing on her lips.

When she finally checks her phone, she finds a single text that makes her stomach warm over.

Hey you. Let me know when you’re up, and I’ll come make you coffee and pretend like I’m not nervous as hell (in the best way) about all this.

Wow, you’re nervous? How embarrassing, Hannah writes back.

Cute, Hannah-bear. Leaving now.

Hannah feels excited and giddy and springy and, whatever she tells Baker, definitely nervous as hell, as she rushes out of bed and into the bathroom. She knows she doesn’t have much time to get ready – Baker’s house is less than 10 minutes away – but the nice thing about falling for her best friend is that she doesn’t have to look perfect, especially when Baker has seen her in her pajamas a million times before.

She doesn’t have time to do more than brush her teeth, wash her face, and throw her hair up into a messy bun before there’s a soft knocking on the door downstairs. She races to answer it with a growing thrill in her stomach, her heartbeat fast and ready.

When she opens the door to find Baker standing there in a big t-shirt and old running shorts, her hair loose and long, all she can do is grin stupidly at her. It’s okay, though, because Baker grins, too, her eyes locked on Hannah’s.

“Hey,” Hannah says.

“Hey,” Baker says.

They hover on the threshold for a beat, and then Baker laughs and steps her way into the kitchen, looking like she’s not sure what to do next. Hannah’s not sure, either, and as she stands there with her whole body buzzing, she runs through the options in her head. Should they kiss hello? Is it okay if they just hug? Is it okay if they simply look at each other?

They’re both grinning self-consciously, and they are definitely, completely, totally nervous as hell, but Hannah feels a low level of calm beneath the nerves trilling in her skin. She can’t stop smiling no matter how hard she tries.

“So…” she says, affecting her joking voice, “I think you promised me coffee, right?”

Baker rolls her eyes but keeps grinning, her body loosening as she walks off toward the coffee maker. And Hannah knows it was the right thing to say, because now they have something to do, some little task to take care of as they settle into each other again.

“Did you sleep okay?” Hannah asks, coming to stand a few feet behind her.

Baker glances back at her as she rinses out the coffee pot and grabs a measuring spoon from the drawer. Hannah’s heart inflates just from watching her.

“Yeah, I really did, actually,” Baker says. “It was the best sleep I’ve had in months.”

“Oh, well, we should have dramatic heart-to-heart reconciliation walks more often, then,” Hannah teases.

Baker rolls her eyes again, but her smile is brighter than ever. “How did you sleep?”

“Great,” Hannah says, still grinning. She pauses, then adds, “I couldn’t wait to wake up this morning.”

“Because you love Mondays so much?”

“Because I couldn’t wait to see you,” Hannah says, unable to help herself, and Baker blushes and busies herself with measuring out coffee grounds.

Hannah picks out their coffee mugs, choosing Baker’s old favorite – a vintage LSU one – to hand to her. They stand a few feet apart by the coffee maker as it gurgles and sputters into action, filling the house with the comforting smell of dark roast. Hannah can tell that she and Baker are both itching to reach over and touch each other, but they’re still too nervous, too new. It was easier the night before, after they’d had their big conversation, but now, standing here in the daylight and realizing they’re about to leap into this new, unknown relationship, it feels so big and dazzling and wonderful that it’s almost a little disorienting, like staring into the sun.

It’s easier when they go into the family room. The couch is there, worn-in and comfy, and it’s easy to fall onto it together, just as they always have. Now they can sit right next to each other, their knees and elbows bumping as they tuck their legs up onto the seat.

“Here,” Hannah says, and she lays a blanket over them, taking care to tuck it around Baker’s legs. “What do you wanna watch?”

Baker looks right at her. “Literally anything. You could put QVC on, for all I care.”

Hannah smirks. She feels daring, brave, so she makes another joke even though it might be too much.

“Because you’re going to be focused on me, anyway?”

Baker looks at her, and she’s self-conscious, but she’s brave, too. “Is this what it’s gonna be like?” she asks, her eyes narrowed. “Am I going to have to endure constant jokes about how much I like you? Because I’m not embarrassed by that, just so you know. Not anymore.”

Hannah blushes deeper than she ever knew she could, and Baker looks incredibly pleased with herself.

“Uh-huh,” Baker says smugly, turning back to the TV, “thought so.”

It takes a full five minutes for Hannah’s stomach to stop whirring.

They end up watching The Today Show. Joanie is still asleep upstairs, so they keep the volume fairly low, and it’s oddly comforting just to sit there absorbing mindless chatter without pressure for either one of them to talk; for now, they can just be.

Baker scoots forward to set her coffee mug on the table, and when she leans back, she ends up closer to Hannah than before. Hannah can’t help but think she did it on purpose, and the thought makes her stomach whir all over again.

A minute later she feels Baker staring at something, clearly distracted. Hannah follows her line of sight, but it looks like Baker’s just staring at a random spot on Hannah’s lap.

“What?” Hannah asks her.

Baker shakes her head. “Nothing,” she says casually, but she’s clearly flustered; her cheeks are turning red.

“What?” Hannah presses.

Baker shakes her head again and looks back to the TV, but a moment later, she fishes Hannah’s hand out from under the blanket. For one silly, crazy second Hannah thinks Baker wants to check the time on her watch, but then she realizes –

Baker wants to hold her hand.

Hannah’s stomach whirs and tilts and hopscotches. Baker interlocks their fingers, blushing scarlet, her eyes still on the TV.

Hannah could describe Baker’s hands in her sleep – her smooth, olive-colored skin; her long, slender wrists – but she’s not used to seeing one of Baker’s hands intertwined with her own. They’d held hands at the hospital, sure, and they’d held hands last night when they were walking around the Garden District, but both those times had felt necessary and stabilizing in the midst of such a heavy conversation. This right now, while they’re watching TV and drinking coffee, just feels sweet and tender and – there’s no other word for it – romantic.

“Got another joke lined up?” Baker asks shyly, her eyes still on the screen.

“No,” Hannah says quietly, and before she can think too much about it, she lays her head on Baker’s shoulder. Baker seems to tighten for a moment, but she quickly relaxes and nestles further into Hannah.

And it’s so nice. So nice.

The Today Show plays on, but Hannah is only paying attention to Baker – to her breathing, the smell of her hair, and the way she smooths her thumb against Hannah’s hand every few minutes.

“Did you eat anything?” Baker asks softly.

“No.”

“Can I make you some eggs?”

Hannah squeezes her hand. “Really?”

Baker laughs. “Don’t act like I’ve never made you breakfast before.”

“Not after holding my hand, you haven’t.”

Baker cooks them scrambled eggs, making extra so Joanie can have some later. She stands over the stove, one hand on her hip as she moves the spatula around, and Hannah can’t help it: she comes up behind her and wraps her arms around her waist.

“Hannah,” Baker says shyly, her entire body tense, “don’t make me burn your eggs.”

“We have more,” Hannah says, squeezing her middle, and after a moment Baker relaxes and drops her head back against Hannah’s. Hannah has an aching urge to kiss her shoulder, or her ear, or something, but it still feels too early for all that, so she just laughs instead.

“What?” Baker asks.

“Nothing. Just—crazy, huh?”

“Super crazy.”

Hannah releases her. “Don’t burn my eggs.”

Baker shoots her a pretend-annoyed look, and it’s so flirtatious, and Hannah wonders how it took them this long.

They eat on the back porch, sitting on the rocking bench and listening to the birds. It’s starting to get hot out, but the overhang from the house keeps them secluded in shade.

“How’d it go when you got home last night?” Hannah asks. “Did your parents know you were over here?”

“Yeah, I told them. My mom knows I’m here today, too.”

“Is she okay with it?”

Baker digs her toast into her eggs. “I think it’s going to take her a while,” she says evenly. “I’m trying to be honest without overwhelming her. I mean, I’m still trying to be honest with myself, too, so…”

Hannah wants to hold her hand again, but they’re both using their hands to eat. She settles for bumping Baker’s shoulder with her own instead. “We’ll go slowly, Bake. Everything’ll be okay.”

“Do your parents know I was here last night?”

“Joanie told them while we were out walking, but I haven’t gotten to talk to them yet. I’ll stage a little chat after they get home from work today, I guess.”

For a moment, Baker looks noticeably distressed.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah asks.

“Are your parents going to be okay with it? I mean, not just the girl thing, but…after I…did everything I did?”

“Baker,” Hannah says softly, “of course they will be. I didn’t give them all the details, but they know enough about the big picture, and they get it. You’re my best friend. They love you.”

“Okay.”

“How long are you gonna punish yourself for?”

Baker smiles self-consciously. “As long as you let me.”

“Look at me. Hey, look at me. I realize everything’s not going to be perfect right away, but do you even realize how much progress we’ve made? Everything’s going to be okay now, so we just have to forget the yucky stuff, forgive each other, and move forward. It’s good things from here on out. We just held hands on the couch for 15 minutes, remember?”

Baker lets out a small, grateful laugh. “I remember. How could I not, when yours was so sweaty?”

Hannah drops her mouth open, pretending to be deeply insulted. “You did not just say that.”

Baker hikes an eyebrow. “I think, Hannah-bear, that I did.”

Hannah stares her down, and Baker stares back, and eventually Hannah has to break eye contact because looking into Baker’s dark brown eyes for so long makes her feel lightheaded and drunk. She shakes her head and steals the last bite of Baker’s toast instead.

Baker must know how she’s feeling. “Is this, like, equal parts amazing and terrifying to you?” she asks.

“100 percent.”

“Okay, good, me too.”

“You know what’s weird? When we get annoyed with each other, or have little mini-dramas or whatever, we’re going to have to find other people to play the best friend role to listen to us, since we’re each other’s best friends.”

Baker laughs. “Wanna know something weird? I’ve already had that thought.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Like, the next time you inevitably annoy me—” Hannah pretends to be insulted again; Baker teasingly mirrors her expression—“it won’t just be as my friend, it’ll be as my…well, I don’t know, we’ll figure that out…but I’ll have to call my brother or something, because I won’t be able to whine about you to you.”

“I’ll just whine about you to Joanie,” Hannah says.

Baker laughs. “Can’t wait,” she says, and then she sets their empty plates on the ground and grabs for Hannah’s hand, unabashedly playing with her fingers and setting Hannah’s stomach hopping again.

Joanie wakes up soon after they go back inside. She trudges down to the kitchen, still bleary-eyed with sleep, and greets them with a dry, “Wow, I’m shocked to see y’all hanging out already. How long did that take?”

“Shut up,” Hannah tells her. “Baker made you eggs.”

“Ugh, I love you, Baker,” Joanie says, pulling a stool up to the counter. “Even more than Hannah does.”

“Shut up,” Hannah says again, rolling her eyes, but she can’t help smiling when she sees the look on Baker’s face.

“Oh, lord,” Joanie says, looking put-upon at Hannah’s reaction, “this is gonna be the longest summer ever. This is a million times worse than when y’all were best friends.”

“We’re still best friends, idiot,” Hannah says.

“Yeah, but now you’re all in love, too,” Joanie says with distaste.

Both Hannah and Baker blush, trying not to look at each other, but to Hannah’s surprise, Baker responds.

“We’ll do our best to hide it from you,” she says, pouring Joanie a cup of coffee, and Joanie’s relaxed laugh is one of Hannah’s favorite things that day.

They decide to get out of the house, which means Hannah has to change out of her pajamas. Baker comes upstairs with her and stands in her doorway for a long moment, gazing into the room, until Hannah bumps her shoulder and asks, “What?”

“I haven’t seen your room in forever.”

It’s another one of those moments where they could slip into the bad stuff – into heartbreak and apologies and regret – but, maybe because of the conversation they just had on the back porch, they don’t go there. Instead, Baker squeezes Hannah’s hand, looking knowingly at her, until Hannah smiles and pulls them both into the room.

Baker sits on the bed while Hannah rummages through her drawers, pulling out clothes. It’s familiar as anything, except that Hannah’s not sure how to change in front of her now. Should she just turn into the corner? Go into the bathroom? Should she make a joke that Baker’s seen her naked before so none of it matters anyway? Somehow, that last one doesn’t feel right; something in her knows they have to work their way back up to that intimacy.

Baker decides for her. “I won’t look,” she says, angling her body away and distracting herself with her cell phone.

Even that feels intimate, because it’s an acknowledgment that they consider each other’s bodies differently than they did before. Hannah pulls her clothes on quickly, her nerves humming just from the awareness that Baker is there in the room with her.

She sits next to Baker on the bed when she’s finished. Baker looks up from her phone right away, smiling warmly at her.

“My favorite shirt,” Baker says, fixing the tag on Hannah’s collar.

Hannah laughs. “The fact that you have a favorite shirt of mine probably should’ve been a big hint.”

“Seriously. This feels like learning the truth of a murder mystery and then going back and seeing how it was so obvious all along.”

“Did you just compare us to a murder mystery?”

“Don’t overanalyze it.”

Hannah feels the question coming out before she can stop it – a question she’s debated since the night of Baker’s fall – and for a split-second she worries it’s too much. But they’re calm, they’re on the same wavelength, and it feels like part of the healing process to dissect these things anyway, so she allows herself to ask.

“When did you know?”

She expects Baker to look away, but she doesn’t; instead she holds Hannah’s eyes, her expression thoughtful.

“After Tyler’s party in Destin,” she says, much quicker than Hannah anticipates. “When you—um—” she blushes—“when you kissed me in the garage. I chocked it up to a fluke before that, but after that second kiss, it was… I mean, my whole rationalization fell apart. After that, I just knew. I could feel it in my gut.”

“Yeah.”

“But looking back, there were times before that when it should have been obvious. Like last summer, when you told me about kissing Wally on the dock, I was so jealous I just wanted to hit something, but I didn’t even realize that’s what it was.” She shakes her head, scowling. “Even thinking about it now makes me jealous.”

Hannah laughs a deep belly-laugh. “Really?”

Baker rolls her eyes. “Don’t get a big head, Han. When did you know?”

“Mardi Gras.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I tried to rationalize it, too, but I wasn’t very good at convincing myself.”

Baker is silent for a long moment. Hannah waits.

“We’ve been through some shit,” Baker says baldly.

Hannah laughs hard again, not least because it’s uncharacteristic of Baker to curse. “Yeah. Yeah, we have.”

“Can I take you to lunch to make up for it?”

“Like a date?” Hannah teases.

Baker shakes her head like she can’t believe what a pain in the ass Hannah is, but she’s blushing and smiling bigger than ever. “Yes, Hannah, like a date. A day-date.”

“You’re so forward, Baker. First you hold my hand, now you want to buy me lunch…”

Baker springs off the bed, holding her hand out to pull Hannah up, too. “Come here,” she says.

Hannah’s stomach coils. She allows Baker to pull her up, and for a heart-stopping second she thinks they might kiss, but all Baker does is pull her close and wrap her arms around her.

It takes Hannah a second to loosen up, but when she does, it feels like she’s melting into Baker’s embrace. Baker’s hands are gripping the back of her t-shirt, holding her tight.

“I love you,” Baker says suddenly, her voice shaking the slightest bit. “I just wanted to say that again, now that I can.”

Hannah has to catch her breath; she feels like whole body is lit up with electricity. “I love you, too,” she says, her own voice sounding new and different.

Baker steps away, looking shy and self-conscious. “Um. Zeeland?”

“Zeeland,” Hannah agrees.

It’s the first time she’s been in Baker’s car in ages, and the realization hits her with a bittersweet jab to her stomach. The interior smells like vanilla air freshener, just as it always has, and the cup holders and dashboard are as clean and spotless as ever.

“I missed your car,” Hannah says as they drive under the tall, towering trees.

Baker shoots her a sad smile. “You have no idea how many times I wished you were in that exact spot.”

They sit in their favorite booth at Zeeland, stealing bites of collard greens and sweet potato soufflé off each other’s plates, and the only thing that feels different is that a junior from their school is sitting several booths over with her mom and is clearly trying not to look at them. Hannah feels knots in her chest, wishing their first outing together didn’t have to involve running into someone they know, and she can tell Baker’s wishing the same thing.

“We can go, if you want,” Hannah tells her.

“No,” Baker says resolutely. “I mean, not unless you want to. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just feels weird.”

“Yeah, feels like I’m outside my own skin.” Baker frowns for a second, but then she looks up at Hannah and her face softens. “But this is what I want, so…small price to pay.”

Hannah’s stomach whirs again.

They go to the bookstore after that, sticking close to each other in the aisles even as they lose their attention in different books. Hannah is absorbed in the first few pages of a Zadie Smith novel when she feels Baker brushing up behind her, peering over her shoulder. For a second Baker just hovers there, right at her side, and then she runs her hand over Hannah’s waist almost like she can’t help it, like she was compelled to touch Hannah in some way. It only lasts for a second, but it sets Hannah’s whole body on fire.

“You’re kind of a flirt, Bake,” Hannah tells her in the parking lot.

Baker laughs brightly. “Had a lot of stored up energy, I guess.”

On the drive back to Hannah’s house, as Hannah’s rambling about which new novel she wants to read first, Baker reaches for her hand again. It takes Hannah by surprise as much as it had on the couch that morning, probably because holding hands in the car feels so goddamn grown-up, and she shuts up instantly.

“Is this okay?” Baker asks in an uncertain voice, glancing over at her.

Hannah’s stomach is swooping and dancing all over the place. Another daring impulse comes over her, and she kisses the back of Baker’s hand before she loses her nerve.

Baker blushes scarlet again, and it’s clear she’s fighting a smile.

Joanie’s either not there or holed up in her bedroom when they get home. The house is quiet and still except for the hum of the air conditioner.

“What do you wanna do?” Baker asks.

“I have to water the flowers,” Hannah says, remembering the chore her dad had given her for the week, “and then how about we watch a movie?”

“You got it. I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Hannah,” Baker says, grabbing her wrist playfully, “how many years have you been telling me that, and how many times do I have to tell you that I want to help?”

“I know you do,” Hannah laughs, tugging her hand to lead them out on the porch, “but I have to say it anyway.”

Watering the flowers takes no more than five minutes, and before Hannah’s even done, Baker has ducked into the house and come back with two tall glasses of water for them to drink. They sit on the porch steps, the hose curled up next to Hannah’s feet, the sun hot on their hair.

“I love summer,” Baker says, staring out at the yard. “Even though it’s ridiculously hot and humid all the time, it’s like the flowers and trees don’t give a damn and decide to keep blooming anyway.”

Hannah feels a sudden rush of happiness as she lets everything settle over her: the lush, green yard and the tall, gnarled oaks and the wonder of Baker sitting there beside her. She sets her water glass down and scoots closer to Baker, knocking her knee and taking one of her hands into her own.

“This is gonna be our best summer yet, I can tell,” Hannah says.

Baker looks over at her, smiling the same kind of smile that Hannah feels in her chest. For a second they just look at each other, and Hannah knows they’re feeling the same thing: overwhelming gratitude and awe.

Then Baker reaches over and brushes Hannah’s hair back from her neck, and chills erupt on Hannah’s skin. She looks into Baker’s eyes and sees that familiar yearning expression in them, and she knows exactly what Baker’s thinking.

“You can kiss me if you want to,” Hannah tells her. “You’re allowed.”

Baker reddens, but she doesn’t look away. “Yeah,” she says. “I’m still getting used to that.”

Hannah smiles lightly. “We have lots of time to get used to it.”

“It makes you nervous too, right?”

“Super nervous.”

Baker nods. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day, but I also…I don’t know…I don’t want to rush it. I want it to be special.”

“We don’t have to rush anything,” Hannah promises. “We have all the time in the world.”

Baker looks intently between Hannah’s mouth and her eyes, unabashedly taking her in. Hannah looks back at her, and the truth of her own words sinks in. For the first time, she knows they’re going to kiss and that she doesn’t have to feel anxious about it. It’s a drastic difference from the urgency she felt this past spring, when everything was frenzied and furtive and she couldn’t enjoy the simple luxury of just looking at Baker first. Now she can look at Baker as much as she wants, taking in her lips and her eyes and that fire in her expression, savoring her slowly and wholly.

They wait, and they wait, and then Baker doesn’t wait any longer. She leans in and kisses Hannah very, very softly, almost like she’s saying hello.

Hannah’s heart skips a beat. She kisses Baker back, just as softly, and when she pulls away Baker’s blushing again.

“Our first daylight kiss,” Hannah tells her.

Baker smiles. “Makes it pretty real, doesn’t it?”

“There’s no going back now.”

“It’s weird, like, that we can just do it if we want to.”

Hannah raises her eyebrows, unable to resist the joke, and Baker rolls her eyes and shoves Hannah’s arm.

“You’re the worst,” Baker tells her.

“Yeah, but you told me you love me, so.”

“I do love you,” Baker says easily, leaning in to kiss her again. Her kiss is bolder this time, like she’s truly letting herself do what she wants; she cups her hands along Hannah’s jaw so her kiss is even firmer, and Hannah reels from it.

“Jesus,” Hannah says, breathless, when Baker pulls away.

“No, I’m Baker.”

Hannah laughs out loud, feeling like she might combust from all the good things swirling inside of her, and Baker grins like she couldn’t be more pleased with herself.

“That was a total Hannah joke,” Baker says. “I knew you’d love it.”

“You were right. Come on, let’s watch a movie.”

Inside, in the welcome air conditioning, they settle on the couch and throw on an early-2000s rom com to keep them company. For the first few minutes they sit there quietly, not in a charged way like they had that morning, but in a relaxed and worn-in way that feels comfortable and right. They reach for each other’s hands automatically, like it’s something they’ve been doing for years rather than hours.

Ten minutes into the movie, Hannah asks a question.

“Do you care if I lie down?”

Baker only smiles at her.

Hannah had meant that she wanted to lay her head in Baker’s lap, but Baker comes up with something better: she gestures for Hannah to lie on her side, and seconds later Baker is lying down behind her, with her arm wrapped over Hannah’s stomach, spooning her. It might be Hannah’s favorite thing yet.

“My stomach keeps swooping,” Hannah admits.

Baker buries her face in Hannah’s neck; Hannah can feel her lips on her skin. “Mine, too,” she sighs.

“Are you tired?”

“No. A little.”

“Take a nap, Bake.”

Baker holds her tighter, but after a few minutes her arm loosens and her breathing evens out. Hannah listens to her sleep, feeling her chest rising and falling against her back, and Hannah’s stomach is never going to calm down.

When Baker wakes up sometime near the end of the movie, Hannah rotates in her arms until she’s looking into her eyes. She brushes her fingers against Baker’s hairline, where the cuts from her fall are finally starting to fade.

“How do you feel?” Hannah asks.

“Safe,” Baker says, rubbing her eyes. “And happy.”

“Me too. Crazy happy.”

Baker touches Hannah’s face, trailing a finger across her cheek, down her nose. She hesitates, and then she smooths her thumb against Hannah’s bottom lip. They both blush. They both smile.

“I can’t believe I’ve kissed you,” Baker says. “And I can’t believe I can do it again, like, whenever I want.”

“Yeah, and we can feel good about it.”

“You know what’s funny?”

“Hm?”

“Kissing you those few times—before last night, I mean—it was always amazing, but—when we weren’t talking, when I was trying to stop myself from liking you—it was the rest of your face I wanted to kiss more than anything.”

“The rest of my face?”

“Hear me out. I got to kiss you, right, but it was always…I mean…it was like a hook-up. We were always drunk. But I wanted to kiss you like I loved you, even if I couldn’t admit it. I wanted to kiss your forehead and nose and eyes and—I don’t know, Hannah, sometimes I’d imagine it and just feel all these butterflies in my stomach.”

Hannah thinks she might melt right then and there. “I know what you mean. Even after—um—all the stuff we did at the beach—I just kept thinking about holding you.”

Baker’s eyes are sad but loving. She pulls Hannah close and kisses her eyes, nose, and cheeks, slowly and carefully, like Hannah is something precious. “I love you,” she says softly.

Hannah’s throat feels thick, and she knows her eyes are watering. Baker smiles knowingly at her.

“Don’t be smug,” Hannah tells her.

Baker just smiles more. She traces Hannah’s lips again, and the look in her eyes is so open, so loving, that Hannah can’t help it: she presses close and kisses Baker in a slow, languid way, not like a hook-up, but like she loves her.

When she draws back, Baker’s eyes are still closed, like she’s trying to hold onto the kiss.

“Do that again,” she whispers.

So Hannah does.

They never venture into full-on making out—Hannah knows, instinctively, that they’re not quite ready to do that again—but for infinite minutes they lie there on the couch, holding each other close, gently kissing each other whenever they feel like it, and it’s the most miraculous feeling in the world.

Until they both have to pee, of course.

“You can go first,” Hannah tells Baker.

Baker smirks. “Chivalrous of you, Han.”

“Have to be. You’re not just my best friend anymore.”

Baker laughs as she pads off to the bathroom. “Let’s trademark that!” she calls behind her.

By that point, it’s well into the early evening, which means Hannah’s parents will be coming home soon. Hannah folds up the blanket and re-fluffs the couch pillows, figuring they might as well get a head-start on acting ‘normal’ around other people.

But then Baker comes back from the bathroom, loops an arm around Hannah’s waist, and kisses her cheek in the sweetest, tenderest way possible, and Hannah doesn’t think they stand a chance of acting normal ever again.

Her mom comes home first, lugging grocery bags in through the back door, and Hannah and Baker rush over from the counter to help her. Hannah knows Baker’s nervous about seeing her parents—she’s been distracted and fidgety for the last half-hour—but she also knows Baker wants to start things off right, and that means sticking around to talk to them even if she’s afraid.

Within five seconds of her mom handing over the grocery bags, Hannah can see Baker’s anxiety melt away, because the first thing Hannah’s mom does is smile and pull Baker into a hug. “We’ve been missing you around here,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

She holds Baker at arm’s length, examining her with genuine concern, and Hannah feels such a surge of love for her mom that she wonders how she’s still rooted to the floor.

“I’m feeling really good,” Baker grins. “Thanks, Mrs. Eaden.”

Hannah can tell her mom isn’t sure where the two of them stand, or how that might impact the dynamic they’re all used to with Baker, so Hannah takes the lead and says, “Mom, would it be okay if Baker stayed for dinner?”

“Of course,” Hannah’s mom says, and she looks a little nervous, a little unsure, but she covers it with a smile and a request that they set the table, and everything feels just as it always has.

When Hannah’s dad gets home from work, he does the most uncharacteristic thing ever and hugs Baker just like Hannah’s mom did. He doesn’t say much about it, but Hannah knows both she and Baker are more touched than her dad will ever know.

And then Joanie, of course, comes flouncing down the stairs and blurts out, “Oh, good! So everyone knows now!”, which makes Baker’s face burn and prompts Hannah’s parents to exchange uncertain looks.

“Thanks, Joanie, for your superb sense of tact,” Hannah says, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, Mom, Dad, um…Baker and I are…um…well, remember how you said you were praying for me to find love?”

Baker is positively scarlet now, and Hannah hopes she won’t kill her for this rather bold announcement.

But Hannah’s dad just chuckles and says, “I’m glad I don’t have to meet anyone new,” while Hannah’s mom’s way of dealing with it is to say, “Joanie, don’t embarrass them,” before she touches Baker’s shoulder briefly.

Hannah and Baker definitely don’t hold hands during dinner, and they don’t look at each other very often or very long, and Hannah’s parents are somewhat out of their element, but it’s still better than Hannah imagined. She can tell everyone’s going to need some time to get used to this - even Joanie, for all her bravado - but she feels strangely at peace about it.

After dinner, when Hannah’s parents go out to have a coffee on the back porch—with Hannah’s mom adding a very awkward and hasty “Don’t go upstairs…at least not until we figure out some new rules”—Hannah and Baker clean up the dinner dishes together, both of them more subdued than earlier in the day. Hannah knows Baker’s not mad at her for telling her parents, but she also knows she’s a little overwhelmed by it.

“Hey,” Hannah says, flicking water at her, “you okay?”

Baker takes her time drying a saucepan. “Praying for you to find love, huh?” she asks.

Hannah returns her half-smirk. “That’s literally what they said.”

“You really think they’re okay with this?”

“In theory, yeah. In practice? It’s gonna take some time.”

Baker nods. She tucks the saucepan away, then says, “It’s kind of funny that your mom told us not to go upstairs.”

“If she only knew…” Hannah says, “She would’ve told me not to go the beach this past April.”

“Hannah,” Baker says, looking away and blushing hard, and Hannah blushes too, and in that moment she feels the depth of her intimacy with Baker, the well of their shared secrets and private history.

“Sorry,” Hannah says, though she’s not. She flicks more water at Baker, just to keep the moment light.

They take a drive after that. They walk around the lakes, occasionally brushing arms, and Baker is so beautiful in the light of the setting sun that Hannah feels her heart in her throat every time she looks at her.

“We get to do this every day,” Hannah says, full of wonder.

“Can you believe it?”

“No, it’s surreal.”

“There’s so much more stuff to talk about, Han,” Baker says. “Good stuff, bad stuff…” She pauses. “Intimate stuff…”

Hannah swallows. The lingering echo of her joke in the kitchen stretches between them, and she knows they’re both back in that third-floor bedroom at the beach house, in the moment that turned everything on its head.

“It’s kind of insane, isn’t it?” she asks Baker. “That we’ve been together that way?”

Baker chances a look at her. “It makes me light headed just thinking about it.” She takes a deep breath. “It was the most incredible, most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.”

Hannah can’t believe they’re actually talking about this. “Yeah, me too. It was like an out-of-body experience.”

Baker gives her a half-smile. “Kind of makes kissing seem like no big deal, doesn’t it?”

Hannah shakes her head. “No,” she says quietly, “kissing you feels like the biggest deal in the world. The other stuff is…I mean…we don’t even need to worry about it right now. Holding your hand this morning felt just as intimate and important as that stuff did, if not more so.”

Baker is silent for several paces. Then, in a bare voice, she says, “Hannah, I think you’re the most amazing, most loving person in the entire world. Do you know that?”

Hannah’s heart drums inside her. She turns to find Baker watching her with an open, dazzled expression on her face. “I think that about you, too, Baker,” she says.

Baker shakes her head in a daze. She smiles like she can’t help it.

“What?” Hannah asks, grinning.

“What do you mean, ‘What’? This has been, like, the best day of my life.”

Hannah squeezes her side, even though they’re out in the world for everyone to see. “Mine, too,” she says, “but I bet you tomorrow will be even better.”

They walk until darkness falls, and then Baker drives Hannah back to her house. She slides her gearshift into Park and looks over at Hannah, and suddenly she’s shy again.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous about kissing me goodnight,” Hannah says.

Baker doesn’t miss a beat. “Of course I am,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “You are, too, I can tell.”

“A little,” Hannah laughs. “But mostly I just don’t want to say goodnight at all.”

“Me neither. You know, it was kind of dumb of you to tell your parents about us. We could’ve gotten away with some sleepovers.”

Hannah groans. “We could’ve cuddled all night.”

“Yep. So think about that when you’re alone tonight.”

“Don’t be a brat,” Hannah laughs, reaching for her hand.

“Can I come wake you up tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“So…kissing…” Hannah says.

Baker laughs and squeezes her hand. “We’re so dumb. Like, I was just kissing you a few hours ago, but now I’m scared of it again.”

“Well, to be fair, you were the brave one last night, so…I’ll get this one.”

She leans over and kisses Baker, slow and lingering, until they’re both breathless.

“I love you,” she tells her.

Baker leans her forehead against Hannah’s. “I love you, too, Han. So much.”

“Have sweet dreams, okay?”

“You too, Hannah-bear.”

Hannah kisses her one more time, and just before she pulls away, Baker steadies her and kisses her eyes, one after the other.

“Love you,” she says again, in the softest voice Hannah’s heard yet.

And then Hannah scoots out of her car and stands by the backdoor to watch her go, smiling like an idiot but not even caring.

Her mom gives her a look when she comes inside. They hash out the new rules quickly, and it’s awkward and stilted and completely foreign to both of them, but it’s also everything Hannah could only dream of a few weeks ago. Before she heads up the stairs to her room, she hugs her mom in a way she hasn’t since she was a little kid.

“Thank you,” she tells her.

“I want you to be happy,” her mom says.

“I am,” Hannah says, unable to keep the smile off her face.

Upstairs, in the privacy of her bedroom, Hannah flops on her bed and lets every small miracle of the day wash over her. It was only a few weeks ago that she was nursing her broken heart between these four walls, but now she’s retreating into this space to savor all the beautiful little ways her heart is expanding.

She washes her face, she brushes her teeth, she slips on her pajamas and burrows into bed. And just when she’s about to settle in with a book or a TV show, her phone chimes with a text message, and she already knows who it’s from.

I love you, and I loved today, and I love that I’ll get to see you tomorrow.

Hannah closes her eyes, letting this feeling sweep over her, the whole sweet promise of Baker and their new relationship.

I love you more, she writes back. Sleep well, okay?

You too, Hannah-bear. Or should I say…You too, Not Just My Best Friend Anymore.

Hannah laughs aloud, the sound ringing in the darkness. When she finally falls asleep some hours later—after re-living every single moment she and Baker shared today—she cannot wait to wake up again.

...

(In case you missed it, here’s the other HNITS one-shot I uploaded yesterday. Takes place a month after the events of this one.)

#spent my entire Memorial Day weekend writing about these two idiots #and I regret nothing #HNITS one-shot #Her Name in the Sky #HNITS #here y'all #have all the fluff

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shirttrendingstore-blog · 5 years

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storehottrend79-blog · 5 years

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tshirtfunny79-blog · 5 years

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mytshirt-trend-blog · 4 years

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lovediva0303 · 4 years

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lovediva013 · 4 years

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