does she want more than this? it's a tough question to answer. just over 2 months had passed since she caught wendy staring as she closed the bathroom door in nothing but a towel, about to wash the hot tub chemicals away. she didn't say anything. the red in wendy's cheeks was embarrassment enough. joy knew when not to pry.

she's scared. she thinks -knows- wendy feels the same way. but she always denies it. yeri asks about what looks like two mutual crushes and joy hides behind "we just have soft spots for each other." 

what happens when they finally succumb to it? to the longing. when they finally tell each other what they want, how they feel.

joy doesn't want this to change. if she could have wendy forever, with this unspoken mutual pining, she would. but wendy won't wait forever. wendy shouldn't wait forever. wendy doesn't owe joy any unspoken relationship. she deserves clear communication. an unadulterated "i want you." 

some of the fear comes from wendy liking her so intensely and obviously. what happens when she finally says it? does the adorable embarrassment over staring for too long stop? does the hesitance stop? she likes that about wendy. what if all the best things stop? what if wendy stops?

stops liking her.

joy shivers at the thought. does she wait for that? let this stupid little thing go away. or does she move before that? take what she can get and deal with the ache later.

"are you cold?" wendy pulls her out of those pink-induced valentine's day thoughts. the remnants of breath swirl around the cold dry air in front of her. 

"a little." joy holds out her hand, as she usually does. wendy doesn't take it. instead, she slips hand warmers into joy's pocket. 

"they're reusable!" she smiles and starts off to meet the others who are already holding ice skates, a galentine's day tradition of theirs. 

joy freezes. her heart sinks. it's already happening. she's losing her catch. the line is broken.