Closed You'll Write, Right?

Tori had enjoyed her time at Susie’s farm, she’d been a little surprised to learn just how large it was in all honesty. After her little rant to her mother, receiving the invite had been what she’d needed, just a little time to get away and be herself with one of her best friends. She liked Susie for a number of reasons, one of them most important being that she was ridiculously easy to talk to, and she always made Tori smile. So it was nice to be around her. She set her glass down carefully, and could feel the coolness linger in her fingers. She needed it, the air was more humid here than she was expecting, and she massaged it into her palms. She rolled her eyes and nudged Susie’s foot with her on. “Of course I’ll write. I’d explode if I didn’t.” She tipped her head back against the wall, letting out a bit of a dramatic sigh.

“You’ll probably get sick of hearing from me. Letters full of rambling nonsense about new places and how much I miss you.” She shook her head and leaned forward a little, more serious tone in her voice. “I wish you could come too. I’d stuff you in my suitcase if I could.” She couldn’t imagine the sight, rocking up to Durmstrang lugging her suitcase behind her as she tried to convince the headmaster or whoever it was that no, she needed to keep her suitcase with her for personal reasons. A smile tugged up the corner of her mouth. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Susie. Promise. 'sides, I'm only going for like four months, hardly any time at all!"​

Tori laughed, a real, snorty kind of laugh, the kind you only reveal to true friends lest they use it against you for the rest of your life as blackmail and on your wedding day pull out a secret recording of you that shows how you really honk and snort when you laugh causing the entire venue to laugh right at you, the betrayal so intense you lock yourself away in a meadow somewhere never to be seen again, that kind of a laugh, because she knew Susie would never cause her to lock herself away in a meadow. She bumped her head against Susie’s softly, “you’re such a drama queen,” she said, fondness obvious in her tone, though she could feel a slight ache in her chest. “My muse, my one true love - what will I do without you?” she teased lightly, echoing Susie’s words but beginning to wonder just what she actually was going to do without her friends.

But when Susie asked for a hug, Tori didn’t even hesitate, she just wrapped her arms around her friend tightly, squeezing her like she was trying to memorise the feeling, like maybe if she squeezed hard enough she could take a piece of Susie with her so she wouldn’t have to shover her in her suitcase, so she could fold it up into a little tiny thing and put it safely into her pocket for when the lonely days set in, and she wondered what on the world had ever convinced her to do something as ridiculous as leave all of her friends behind for the great beyond. “Of course,” she said, her voice a little muffled because she was smooshing her face into Susie’s hair. “I’m gonna miss you so much, Soos. Like, stupidamounts.”​

Tori squeezed harder, freezing for half a second when she felt Susie trembling against her, and then she realised that she was crying. Susie… girl who never cries, crying. She could almost feel the moment her heart cracked open like Susie had broken it apart with her two hands, like a toffee apple when you get to the core. She pulled Susie evern tighter without thinking, ducking her head protectively against her as if she could somehow shield her from everything. Did she really think she could do this? If this was Susie’s reaction, was four months going to be nothing but absolute torture? Maybe she’d made a mistake? Maybe this was wrong, maybe she shouldn’t leave after all, she didn’t care anymore that money had changed hands, that she had her flights, she didn’t care, not if this was the result. She swallowed that deep, trying desperately to hold back her own tears.

“Hey, hey, no,” she said desperately, her voice soft in Susie’s ear. “You’re not stupid. You’re not stupid, Susie. You’re, like, the opposite of stupid.” She instinctively let her hands move down to Susie’s back, running her fingers up and down in comfort, like she might be able to help Susie calm down. She didn’t care if it was silly. “You’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to miss people and be worried and feel everything all at once. It just means you have a big heart.” Bigger than hers, probably, if this was anything to go by. It was kind of nice to see Susie like this, because she was so used to jokey Susie, making everyone laugh Susie, she liked knowing that Susie had big emotions too, that even she couldn’t always keep them at bay. It was human, she felt, it was so Susie. “Honestly? If you weren’t crying, I’d be worried you were secretly a robot.” Maybe Tori was a robot then.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay? Even if I’m, like, technically somewhere else. You’ve still got me. Always.”​

Tori gave a soft little snort, a quieter version of the laugh she’d had earlier, and she smiled so wide she felt like her cheeks might ache. The idea of Susie mailing herself to Tori made her giddy, she thought that would be pretty cool honestly. “Best mail delivery ever,” she said, nudging Susie’s knee a little with her own. She was glad that Susie was feeling better about all of this, Tori didn’t like it when her friends were having a hard time. “Forget owl post. I’m putting ‘Susie in a suitcase’ at the top of my wishlist.” She could imagine the look on her face if she opened her mail only to find it being Susie herself, which would be so much nicer than just a letter, though she knew it would probably not happen, since Susie would continue to go to the school, and Tori would be learning the ins and outs of German for most of her four months or so at Durmstrang.

Even as she joked though, she could feel her heart squeeze inside her chest - because she believed Susie when she said it. She knew that, without the shadow of doubt, Susie meant what she said with her whole chest. If she felt she needed to, she would get inside of a suitcase and mail herself to Tori… or at least find some way of getting over to Durmstrang to drag Tori back and it made her feel nice, because none of her friends had ever said that to her. They’d all asked her why she was leaving, none of them had ever asked her to stay - though Lili had threatened to drag her back too, not quite as dramatically as Susie though. “I’m seriously gonna hold you to that, you know,” she said, her voice feeling a little thick in her throat. She didn’t bother hiding how she was feeling, not from Susie. “Every time I miss you - and it’s gonna be a lot - I’m gonna imagine you just… popping out of a box like ‘SURPRISE, Tori, you thought you could escape me?’”

She bumped their shoulders gently, “you’re stuck with me too, Susie. Forever. Like... cosmic-level stuck. Destiny-level. Deal with it.” There was a small lump in her throat that she couldn’t quite seem to swallow down, but she didn’t mind it so much because she knew it just meant that she loved her that much, and she appreciated everything about Susie.​

Tori laughed a little, a tiny whisp of one. But it sounded a little watery if one listened hard enough - which was ridiculous because she’d be back. “Ghost pact. Got it. I’ll haunt you so hard, Susie. I’ll rattle your mugs and rearrange your bookshelves alphabetically wrong just to keep you on your toes.” She sniffed, though she wasn’t crying, an then smiled as she nudged Susie. “And you better write that story. I want the ghost to wear cool sunglasses and make bad puns.” She had always thought that Susie was a good writer, maybe she hadn’t told her enough, but she really thought she was. Back when they’d done the poem thing and things had taken a bit of a turn for Eoghan, she’d wanted to hear more from Susie, but she’d left early with Eoghan. There was something behind that pretend story, or maybe she was imagining it, but she was sure there was something. It curled up beside her like something she couldn’t quite name yet. It made her chest feel tight, warm, and a little vulnerable, only she didn’t understand that quite right. “I think I would miss you the most, Susie. You’re kinda the best.”​