Solar and Fawn part four

The toxic friendship Fawn, ever the optimist, had tried to make her peace with a girl in her art class, a girl she'd thought was a friend, but who turned out to be a "frenemy." The girl, Lily, was sweet one moment and cutting the next, often making Fawn feel small and foolish. Solar had noticed. He'd seen how Lily's careless comments chipped away at Fawn's normally sunny disposition. He saw how Fawn would come home from school with a new, nagging self-doubt, a shadow in her bright eyes. He tried to tell Fawn that Lily was being toxic, but Fawn, who disliked conflict, would brush him off with a quiet, "It's fine, really. She doesn't mean it." But one day, Lily took it too far. During art class, she "accidentally" spilled a cup of paint water all over a delicate painting Fawn had been working on for weeks. Then she laughed and said, "Oh, Fawn, you should have known to put a rag under your canvas. It's not my fault you're so clumsy!" Later that day, Solar found Fawn sitting on their cottage steps, her face streaked with tears. She finally admitted everything, the accumulated hurts, the casual put-downs, and the final, crushing carelessness with her artwork. Solar's anger, usually so muted, flared bright and hot. "That's it," he said, standing up. "I'm going to deal with her." Fawn grabbed his arm. "No, Solar, don't. That will just make it worse." "I'm not going to fight her, Fawn," he said gently, his voice firm. "I'm going to talk to her." The next day, Solar approached Lily and her friends at lunch. His posture was calm, but his presence was powerful. "Lily," he said, his voice low and even. "I know what you did to Fawn's painting. And I know you've been doing other things, too. Fawn deserves better than that." Lily's friends looked shocked, and Lily's face flushed with shame and anger. "Who are you to tell me what to do?" she scoffed. "I'm her boyfriend," Solar replied simply, "and I'm not going to stand by while you hurt her. It stops now. Consider this the end of our friendship, Lily." He walked away, not giving her a chance to respond. That night, Fawn looked at him with admiration. "You were so brave," she whispered, curled up next to him in her bed. Solar shrugged, a flicker of his usual stoicism returning. "I had to be. You're my heart, Fawn. I can't stand by and let someone break it." He hugged her tightly, and Fawn knew that in their quiet cottage, they had each other's backs—a sun to light the way and a doe to guard the heart.