Chapter Nineteen.

The mall was buzzing with life, neon signs glowing against the sleek tiled floors as couples, families, and friend groups moved from store to store. The comforting hum of chatter and distant pop music filled the air, mixing with the occasional whiff of soft pretzels and cinnamon rolls.

Harlow and Sage had separated from Theresa for a bit, wandering into one of their favorite stores—an alt-fashion boutique filled with faux leather, plaid skirts, band tees, and an overwhelming amount of silver chains.

Harlow was having the time of her life.

"This," she declared, pulling a distressed denim jacket from the rack, "is so you."

Sage raised an eyebrow. "Why? Because it's torn up and chaotic?"

"No," Harlow said with a smirk, "because it's hot. Like you."

Sage snorted but took the jacket anyway, along with a few other items. They made their way to the fitting rooms, Sage disappearing behind the curtain as Harlow lingered outside, excited to see what she'd picked out.

A few minutes passed before Sage's voice came through the curtain. "Okay, don't laugh."

Harlow grinned. "Baby, when have I ever laughed at you?"

Sage dramatically yanked back the curtain and stepped out.

Harlow's jaw nearly dropped.

Sage had on the distressed denim jacket, a black mesh top with a lace bralette underneath, and a pleated plaid skirt that showed off just enough thigh to make Harlow momentarily forget how to speak.

"Well?" Sage asked, tugging at the hem of the skirt, her usual confidence faltering just slightly. "What do we think?"

Harlow blinked, finally snapping back to reality. "You—holy shit—you look incredible."

Sage crossed her arms. "I don't know. The skirt feels… different. Maybe too much?"

Harlow immediately shook her head. "Not even a little. You look sexy, Sage." She stepped closer, gently pulling her girlfriend's hands away from where she was fidgeting with the fabric. "You can pull off anything, but this? This is so hot on you."

Sage chewed her lip, glancing at herself in the mirror. "Yeah?"

Harlow leaned in, whispering against her ear, "Yeah. If you don't buy it, I will, and I promise I'll make you wear it later."

Sage flushed but smirked. "Oh, so now you're bribing me?"

"More like incentivizing," Harlow teased, kissing her cheek. "You look so good, baby. Own it."

Sage let out a breath, her confidence slowly returning. "Okay. Yeah. I guess I do look hot."

"Damn right you do."

Sage rolled her eyes but didn't argue, disappearing back into the fitting room to change.

After checking out, the two made their way to another store—this one more Harlow's style, filled with oversized hoodies, sneakers, and beanies. Sage, of course, had opinions on everything Harlow picked up.

"Baby, you have like ten hoodies that look exactly like that."

"This one is different, Sage."

"Oh yeah? How?"

Harlow hesitated. "…It's blacker."

Sage snorted. "Uh-huh. And the one you're wearing right now?"

"Also black. But a different black."

"You're ridiculous," Sage said, rolling her eyes but smiling as Harlow threw the hoodie over her arm anyway.

They continued browsing, laughing as they tried on ridiculous accessories—Sage put on a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses and dramatically flipped her hair, while Harlow found a cowboy hat and did her best (and worst) country accent.

By the time they met back up with Theresa at Bath & Body Works, they were carrying way more bags than they had planned.

Theresa was in the middle of deeply inhaling a Warm Vanilla Sugar candle when she spotted them.

"My girls! Did you spend an unreasonable amount of money?"

Harlow grinned. "Obviously."

"Good," Theresa said approvingly. "Now, let's go fuel up before we drop."

The food court was packed, but they managed to find a booth near the window. Harlow and Sage got coffee, while Theresa grabbed a soda, sipping it with a content sigh.

"I can't do coffee," she said. "I'm too all over the place as it is."

Harlow chuckled, leaning into Sage as she stirred her drink. "That's… fair."

Theresa seemed relaxed, a little slower than usual in her movements, her eyes slightly heavy-lidded. But she was present, engaged, and affectionate—leaning her elbow on the table as she listened to them talk, occasionally laughing under her breath at their playful banter.

Sage wrapped an arm around Harlow's waist, pulling her closer. "I don't know, I kinda like your chaos, Theresa."

Theresa smirked. "You're welcome. Speaking of chaos…" She took a slow sip of her drink, then casually dropped, "Why don't you just move in, Sage?"

Both girls froze.

Harlow blinked. "What?"

Theresa shrugged. "I know what your family did to you, Sage. And I don't like that you're stuck at a hotel. You belong somewhere safe. With people who love you."

Sage stared, clearly taken aback. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious." Theresa leaned back. "What do you think?"

Sage turned to Harlow, and in that moment, something clicked.

The future didn't feel so uncertain anymore.

Harlow grinned. "I think that's the best idea you've ever had."

Sage smirked. "Damn right it is."

And just like that, everything started to fall into place.