three's a crowd | jenna ortega x reader, emma myers x reader

three

"I don't know." You chew at your lip, uncertainly.

"Come on," He presses, "It'll be fun. I promise."

What he didn't tell you, and you should have guessed it, is Emma is invited too.

You're halfway to Hunter's door, bottle of wine in your hands when you see her.

She sees you at the exact same moment. Freezes. Reluctance all over her face. You wonder briefly if she'll bolt.

"Hey," You say, voice quiet.

"Hey."

You swallow, not really sure what to say.

"I'll go if- if me being here makes you uncomfortable."

She hesitates a moment.

"No, it's fine. I don't want you to go."

So you don't.

Hunter plays the fool, dishes out the wine and leaves the two of you to talk while he no doubt goes to bother Joy in the kitchen.

It's silent for a while, the two of you just sitting there, sipping your wine, Frank Ocean blaring through the speakers.

You want to say something, anything, but every thought that pops into your mind will no doubt sink you deeper into your grave. The grave you dug for yourself.

Finally, after a few painful minutes, Emma breaks the silence.

"Are you going to like, date her?" She asks. She sounds weird, voice too high. Like she doesn't really want to know the answer, "Jenna, that is."

You pause.

"I don't think so."

The conversation you'd had earlier in the day flashes through your mind. It hurts you a little to say out loud.

"But you like her?" She says, frowning slightly, as if she doesn't see the issue, "And she likes you?"

"I like you too." You say, "That's the problem."

She deflates a little, sags back into the couch. It isn't the answer she'd wanted, you know that. She wants what you can't give her. Certainty.

"I didn't expect this to be so complicated." She admits, voice a little quiet.

"Neither did I," You say, "I'm sorry."

You watch her a while, let the silence stew. She's beautiful as ever, shoulder-length hair tied back behind her ears. Her pretty blue eyes missing some of their sparkle.

"I really like you." She says, after a while, fiddling with the rim of her wine glass. She doesn't look at you as she says it. Like she's afraid of what you'll say back.

"I like you too."

At that she looks up. She bites her lip, scoots a little closer.

"I like you, but I don't want to be your second choice." She says, now sounding a little more sure of herself.

"You're not-"

"Maybe we should just be friends," She blurts out. You gaze at her, stare piercing.

"Is that what you want?" You ask. This is a new record for you. Not one but two situationships ending in a matter of hours. You're one more word from snatching the wine glass from her hands and downing it whole.

"No." She admits, voice soft.

You bite your lip. Let the butterflies in the pit of your stomach fester.