476. Chapter 476

Alex has known since she was twelve. She’s known and she’s had nothing but support from her little sister and from the boys who are like her brothers.

She’s known and she’s had nothing but support – and a lot of heady winks – from Sara Lance in her social studies class and shy smiles from Felicity Smoak in her coding elective.

She’s known, and she’s known about Maggie.

She’s known, but Maggie doesn’t know yet.

Doesn’t know yet that when she looks at Alex and her heart leaps, it’s not just because they’re best friends.

That when her eyes won’t leave Laurel Lance’s body as she stands up in passion and deep effectiveness during their class debates, it’s not just because she admires her way around arguments.

That when she gulps and stammers slightly when she makes Iris West laugh, it’s not just because she’s still the new girl and making new friends feels good.

Alex knows.

Maggie doesn’t.

But Alex is patient, and Alex loves her – she’s loved her, or at least known she could love her, since she introduced herself as Maggie Sawyer from Blue Springs, Nebraska, mid-way through freshman year – and Alex is her best friend.

So Alex comes out to her, and she watches when Maggie’s eyes go wide, watches when Maggie’s eyes flit to her lips.

Hears the hitch in Maggie’s voice when she brings her in for a hug and tells her that she’s proud of her, and thanks her for telling her.

She comes out to her, and she’s patient, because Maggie’s her best friend and she loves her, so she won’t pressure her.

So she waits.

Waits, and gently watches Maggie watch her as she paints in the nearly empty art classroom after school.

She paints her with her tongue sticking out of her lips slightly, and she tries to breathe even as Maggie’s pupils dilate, even as Maggie fidgets with her fingers the way she does when she’s nervous, when she’s thinking.

When she’s feeling things she’s scared to feel.

“Bored?” Alex asks. “Because I can find myself another muse, Sawyer,” Alex teases. Alex invites.

“No! No, no, I’m not bored, Danvers, I uh… I like when you paint me. You’re the best in the whole school.”

Alex pffts and shakes her head and squints to make sure she’s recreating the tilt of Maggie’s head just right.

“You’re thinking about something, though,” Alex prods gently, gently, gently. So gently.

Maggie tilts her head deeper, and Alex allows herself a small smile as she scratches her forehead.

“Hey, you’ve got uh…” Maggie leans forward and wipes Alex’s forehead with a trembling finger. Alex stiffens, stills. Deliberately doesn’t breathe.

Because god, does she want her best friend.

Her best friend that isn’t even out to herself yet, let alone anyone else.

Or hell, maybe Alex is wrong, maybe Maggie isn’t even…

But Maggie’s eyes are drifting down from her paint-smeared forehead to her lips, and Maggie is gulping audibly.

“Danvers,” she whispers, and Alex bites her lip.

“Sawyer.”

“How’d you know?”

“Know?”

“That you…”

The door opens and Maggie nearly topples her stool over with how fast she stumbles away from Alex.

“Alright in here, girls?” Ms. M’orzz asks. “I brought you more burgundy from the supply room, Alex, I thought you could use it.”

“Yeah! I… I could. Thanks… thanks, Ms. M’orzz. I… thanks.”

“Mmm, that’s beautiful, Alex. You’re really touching at Maggie’s soul here.” She beams at two of her favorite students, and she’s not sure who blushes harder, the painter or the painted.

“Yeah, she really is,” Maggie mutters, more to herself than anyone else, but Alex hears it.

Alex hears it, and she hopes.