Healing (A Conan Gray x Fem OC) Book 2

millie's pov

 emily's apartment is exactly how it always is: warm, inviting, filled with little pieces of her personality scattered across every surface. the walls are covered in string lights and polaroids, the kind that catch the glow just right and make everything look softer, dreamier. her couch is piled with mismatched blankets, and there's a faint scent of lavender from the candle she's always burning. it's perfect, in that chaotic emily way.

the living room's already a mess, but it's a good mess—bracelet-making supplies spread out across the coffee table, a half-eaten bag of chips perched precariously on the edge, everyone's jackets and bags tossed into a pile by the door. it's the kind of night that feels like summer camp, even though it's freezing outside and we're all bundled up in hoodies and socks.

"okay, but hear me out," emily says, waving a handful of beads in the air like they're evidence in a courtroom. "this one's gonna be the best. i'm calling it now."

"you can't just declare yours the best before you even finish it," olivia says, rolling her eyes in that fond way she does. she's sitting cross-legged on the floor, carefully threading tiny beads onto a piece of elastic. her oversized hoodie looks even comfier under the golden glow of the lights, and she's got that soft, focused expression that makes her look like she's concentrating on painting a masterpiece instead of making a bracelet.

"that's exactly what i'm doing," emily says, grinning as she drops the beads onto the table. she's perched on the arm of the couch, her blonde waves falling over her shoulder as she leans down to inspect her work. "i mean, look at it. it's already iconic."

"iconically bad," tate mutters, not looking up from her own bracelet. she's sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, her leather jacket draped over the cushion behind her. she's got this cool, effortless vibe about her, like she's just here to hang out but could also walk onto a stage and command a crowd at any second. "seriously, em, what is that? a color explosion?"

emily gasps, clutching her chest dramatically. "how dare you? it's called a rainbow, thank you very much."

madi giggles softly from her spot near the window. she's been quiet most of the night, but her laughter is this sweet, soft thing that makes everyone look up. "i think it's cute," she says, her voice barely audible over the chatter.

"see? thank you, madi," emily says, shooting her a triumphant look. "someone here appreciates art."

i'm sitting on the couch, halfway between emily and conan. my bracelet is... a work in progress. the beads in front of me blur together as i try to focus, but my hands feel clumsy, like they don't quite belong to me. it's not the beads' fault. it's him. conan. sitting just close enough that i can feel the warmth of his presence but not close enough to touch. he's leaning forward, elbows on his knees, threading beads onto a string with a concentration that makes my heart ache.

he hasn't said much tonight. not to me, anyway.

"hey, mills," emily says, nudging me with her elbow. "you've been working on that for like twenty minutes. what's the hold-up?"

"just... figuring it out," i mumble, picking up a bead and sliding it onto the string. it's a pale blue one, the color of the sky right before sunset. it reminds me of something, but i can't quite place it.

"show me," she says, leaning over to peek at my bracelet. "millie, that's adorable! you're like, secretly good at this or something."

"it's not done," i say quickly, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"yet," she adds, grinning. "you're crushing it, though. maybe i'll trade you mine when you're done."

"not if it's the rainbow explosion," tate says, a grin on her face. the room erupts into laughter, even emily's dramatic gasp turning into a giggle.