Gray Hearts Episode Sixteen: Restore

Gray Hearts by Raspberry | Content warnings

Quinn looks directly at me, her eyes clear.

“Iris,” she says simply. 

If she’s going to say anything else, I don’t wait to find out. I throw my arms around her and pull her close, closing my eyes to stop the tears from spilling out.

She smells like the fireplace, woody and warm. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, holding on with all her strength. I feel her body shake, and I realize she’s sobbing into my shoulder. I can already feel the tears soaking into me, which is impressive considering how many layers Autumn had wrapped me in. I raise a hand to the back of her head and stroke her hair gently.

“I’m here, Quinn,” I murmur. “I’m here for you.”

She’s mumbling incoherently into my cloak, but I don’t have to hear her to know what she’s trying to say. 

It’s been so hard for her. I know it’s been hard for both of us. Growing up, finding ourselves somewhere we never expected or even wanted, feeling alone and lost… But I don’t tell Quinn that I know how she feels. I don’t tell her that I’ve been through things too. There’ll be time for us to catch up and deal with this whole ordeal later. But first, she needs me to be here for her. So I just hold on and let her cry. I give her the comfort she was looking for since she knocked on my door in the middle of the night, the comfort she looked for in friends she never met when she couldn’t find it in me, the friend who knew her for so long and should’ve known before. 

When her shaking subsides, she sniffles and pulls away slowly. Her nose is bright red, making her freckles pop against her pale skin. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers in a raspy voice. “I was a shitty friend, and I just laid around your place and didn’t do anything to help you.”

“Hey,” I interrupt. “I should have been there and listened to you. I shouldn’t have tried to force you out before you were ready.”

“No, but I should have been out looking for a job instead of laying on your couch and mooching off of you,” she argues. 

“Quinn, you were depressed. You went through literal trauma, and I was expecting you to act like everything was fine. I was getting jealous of you replacing me when you were literally going through it.”

“Replacing you? Iris, I could never. I was just afraid of being such a burden on you emotionally too on top of everything else—”

“You’re not a burden!”

“No, but—”

“What is happening?” Winter interrupts, holding her arms between us like we’re bickering children. “You… you hurt her? Or she hurt you? I… I don’t get it.”

“I guess… we both kinda sucked,” Quinn says slowly, looking at me with a shrug. “And probably should’ve talked about this before it intensified.”

“We were both wrapped up in our own problems and didn’t communicate,” I say with a nod. “But, that’s the thing about friends. We make mistakes, we mess up, but then we have to communicate and apologize to keep our friendship alive.”

“Why would you want to though? If you hurt each other?” Winter seems genuinely perplexed.

“Well,” I begin, giving Quinn a wry smile. “We’re both still growing up. We’re bound to make mistakes and mess things up. Sometimes we’re absolute shitty friends. But I’d rather work hard for a good friendship than abandon it because it doesn’t come effortlessly.”

“I get stuck in my own world and my own head,” Quinn says with another sniffle. “But even in my darkest moments, I can’t imagine not having Iris around.”

I grab her hand and give it a squeeze.

“I’m pretty sure we settled that you can’t get rid of me. I mean, I had to go through all the seasons to get to you, and they were not easy. You think I’m clingy; you should meet them.”

Quinn lets out a chuckle, and my heart skips a beat. I can’t remember the last time I saw her smile. 

“Can we go home?” she asks. 

I turn to Winter, who looks lost and confused. It dawns on me why she’s bewildered. 

“Sometimes the biggest misunderstanding can be resolved with communication,” I tell her. “Why don’t we all take a trip back to that antique shop? Quinn and I have some more talking to do, and I think there’s someone who owes you an explanation too.”

The way back is, unsurprisingly, through another mirror. This time, Quinn holds my hand as she leans into the glass, pulling me through with her.

The woman is sitting on an oversized armchair in front of us, and she jumps to her feet, knocking a porcelain teacup from her lap. 

“You’re… you’re back!” she stammers. “I can’t believe… but you were only…”

“How long has it been?” I ask, glancing around. 

I’m just realizing how awkward it’d be if a year had passed. Like, Quinn and I would both be homeless. And who knows what people do with the furniture of an apartment if the tenant goes missing for a year. 

“About an hour,” she replies.

“Seriously?” Quinn and I say at the same time. 

The woman’s eyes widen, and I feel a chill at my back. Quinn and I step away as Winter stands in front of the mirror. The woman’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. 

“It’s you,” she finally breathes, reaching for her heart. 

“Gina,” Winter says, her voice soft and cold. “You look surprised to see me.” She glances around. “Worried people might see?”

“I… I looked everywhere for you,” the woman says, her voice still hushed. “At first, I went everywhere that had a winter. South America, Australia, Europe… then I was scared of meeting you again. Of having to…” she swallows. “Then I started finding you everywhere. In every mirror.”

Winter flushes, and I get the feeling that it was no coincidence. Maybe she was haunting Gina, I think. Or looking for closure. I want to ask, but the air between them is palpable and leaves no space for anyone else.

“Were you trying to forget me?” Winter’s voice is still cold, but I can hear it quiver.

“I could never forget you,” the woman says with a shake of her head. “But I wish I could have forgotten myself. My mistake.” She sighs. “Winter, I panicked. I was young in a town where girls like boys and boys like girls. Anyone different was…” She closes her eyes. “I was afraid of others knowing, but I shouldn’t have done what I did. I regretted it immediately and every moment since. I wanted to apologize, but then I couldn’t bear to relive that moment again with anyone. I should have been brave. I should have risked the consequences for you. I should have—”

“No,” Winter says, and the woman’s eyes fly open. “You can’t tell me what you should have done, when the past is already so long gone.”

The woman’s eyes are pained, but she nods.

“You’re right,” she begins.

“But, you can tell me what you will do,” Winter continues, taking a step closer. “What you want me to do. Shall I leave you alone? Forgive you and move on? Or shall I—”

“Stay.” The woman’s voice is breathless as she reaches out a hand. “Please. I mean, I know you need to be in winter to thrive, but I don’t need this shop. We can go anywhere you—”

Winter places a finger on Gina’s lips, her eyes glistening. Quinn tugs my arm and nods to the door. 

“I think they need a minute together,” she whispers. “And I’d like to see the sun again, if that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” I reply with a smile, moving around the couple and navigating us to the front door. “I’d like to go home soon.”

“Can we get some donuts first?” Quinn asks, linking her arm with mine. “I need some sort of incentive to fill out job applications.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m not saying I’m all cured or anything,” she says simply. “But I can try baby steps, okay?”

“Okay.”

She swings the door open and grins back at me, the sunlight reflecting in/off her orange hair like a fiery halo.

“Besides, I’ll need to save up money for us both to go to Pride this year, if you’re okay with being out. What are the Ace colors again? We can make you a giant cape—”

I flush, letting Quinn lead the way as we walk into the sunset. Well, into the Half Off Before Closing donut sale, but it’s practically the same thing.