· ℱake it || magicaedestruit
To be honest, Wendy worried about that fact. So many years ago her parents had known him. It’s been so long, and he’s changed (though, now, she only figured his name had), there was no telling if they would recognize him.
She wondered, briefly, if they would—and how they would react when she called him “boyfriend.” Boyfriend. She still didn’t believe it, especially with the amount of times she had said it to herself, over and over again, in front of the mirror. After all, no one will believe the lie if you don’t. And somehow, whenever Wendy looked at herself and said, “This is my boyfriend, Neal,” she knew at once it would be a fib.
“Nervous?” She asked. Her voice had become unnaturally high as she moved to help him with the tie, wrapping it around and under the collar of his shirt with fumbling fingers.
“No, absolutely not. I’m not nervous—I’m just going to a dinner party with my best friend, who is pretending to be my boyfriend.” She had to stop to take a deep breath, “I’m not nervous at all.” The tie was finally finished, and she moved away to look at it. She reached up, as she always did with her brothers, to brush her fingers through his hair, fixing it just a tad.
But she finally allowed herself to breathe, closing her eyes as she braced her hands on his shoulders (when nervous she found herself being quite touchy. An odd habbit). When she finally relaxed some, she looked up with a smile. “Thank you, for doing this. Really.”
Her smile was always so warm when he was around. She grabbed her purse and coat. “Please tell me, please, that you have a story about how you asked me out? My mum will want a story about that.” She was quick to show him back out the door.
“Relax, you’re gonna be fine.”
Neal flashed her a reassuring smile, one that widened just a little as she ran her fingers through his hair. To an outsider, their friendship could easily be mistaken for a relationship, save for the fact that there was no physical attraction involved. They were really good friends, comfortable around one another and if they tried hard enough, he was certain they could even finish each other’s sentences. The only problem was…there were holes to be filled. No matter how hard they’d attempt to avoid it, there would have to be at least some amount of lying involved in order for this to work—and to avoid Wendy’s parents finding out about his true identity.
When she thanked him, he shook his head. How many times had she helped him out? Hell, she’d taken him off the streets when he was just a boy, provided him with a home and food, and most importantly, she had reminded him of the meaning of the word ‘family’. For the longest time, he hadn’t had a family, he’d been lost and alone—and there’d been Wendy, then. Now, when she needed someone to help her out, he would definitely be there for her.
“Hey, I should be the one thanking you. Been feelin’ like I never really got to repay you for what you did for me.”
Neal wasn’t habitually one for moments of reflection, especially since he wasn’t all too fond of his past, but he’d gladly make an exception for this. He’d never gotten the chance to tell Wendy just how much her help had meant and still meant to him—he just didn’t linger on it all that long for fear of it becoming awkward.
“Crap. Can’t exactly tell her I picked you up at some bar. Hmm—shared hobbies?”
