Aoao, your post about Roderick Heffley is so deeply imprinted in my heart. Can I make a request for Rodrik/reader(girl)?
The reader is the younger sister of one of Rodrick's friends from the rock band. (just a year younger than our emo boyđ)How about, Roderick himself doesn't realize that he has fallen in love with a friend's YOUNGER sister, the reader's brother with "What the hell dude!? She's my sister!" and Rodrik's graduation ball, to which he confusedly invites the reader...
Sorry for the English, I hope everything was clear đ
pls i love this idea so much im climbing the walls
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Löded Diper, your brotherâs band, was practicing tonight. Normally, you took no interest in it and it had little to no importance to you, but tonight was a different set of circumstances. Your parents were off to dinner and they demanded that you and your brother hang out, no matter where it was that you went. Not to your surprise, your brother was quick to call up the rest of his band and suggest they rehearse. Which meant you were forced to go along.
His car rolled to a stop on the Heffleyâs driveway, the garage open with the other band mates standing around the drum set with the name Löded Diper painted on it. You groaned as you exited the car, realizing you were to spend the rest of your night listening to them play.
Your brother greeted the rest of the band, already exchanging jokes and banter. You had been relieved that they hadnât noticed you and you snuck past them, hoping to find some spot in the corner where you wouldnât receive any attention.
As you searched for a neat spot to sit (without spiders), the laughter seemed to stop and the room was quiet except for the shuffle of your feet against the floor. You froze before turning around to face the band.
âWhoâs that?â the one sitting at the drums asked, pointing at you with his drumstick. You narrowed your eyes slightly, glaring at the boy for his lack of manners.
âIs that your girlfriend?â another asked and a chorus of âoohâs and laughter filled the air. Your brother was quick to dismiss it, hushing the band.
âGross, man, sheâs my sister!â he shouted over them. Your arms crossed over your chest as they all simmered down. âShe has to stay here. She wonât talk or do anything,â then he turned to you, âright?â
âYes sir,â you mocked sarcastically, flopping yourself down into an old lawn chair you found.
It wasnât long before the floor was practically vibrating with the volume of their music and the sounds filled your ears. You sat and picked at your nails, imagining what the family inside the home mustâve thought of the blaring music coming from the garage. Surely if it were you, you wouldâve been exhausted of hearing your son play all the time.
They played for hours but it hadnât felt as long as you thought it wouldâve felt. You had spaced out most of the time, daydreaming of anything your mind dreamt up which occupied your time. Occasionally, you found yourself unconsciously tapping the armrest to the rhythm of whatever tune they were playing but you would stop anytime you caught yourself doing it.
It was pushing 10 oâclock when two of them started to pack up. Unfortunately, your brother was not one of them. Even after the departure of two band mates, your brother and the drummer played on for a few painfully long songs.
You were on the edge of the seat, elbows resting on your thighs as you anxiously fidgeted with the rings on your fingers. The final song wrapped up and you clapped absentmindedly and your brother gave you a puzzled look, assuming you had been paying no attention.
Your brother started to pack up his guitar and you rose out of your seat, eager to leave. You were already exiting the garage when your brother stopped you.
âSlow down. Iâm going to the bathroom first, then weâll leave,â your brother explained before rushing off to the bathroom. You lightly sighed and turned back to the garage. The drummer was pacing around, avoiding looking even in the vicinity of you, as he spun the drumstick around in his hand.
Your brother seemed to be M.I.A., leaving you and his drummer alone in the garage for an extended period of time. Trying to soothe the awkwardness and silence in the room, you attempted to spark up a conversation.
âI never got your name,â you spoke quietly, turning to face him. His pacing came to a halt and he glanced at you.
âWhy do you wanna know my name?â he asked curiously, sounding mildly irritated. You rolled your eyes and sighed lightly.
âI was just trying to make small talk, alright?â you explained, frustrated. It was a simple question, you didnât understand why he was trying to make a big deal out of it.
After a moment of silence, he finally answered. âItâs Rodrick,â he mumbled. He stole another glance at you. âYou?â
âY/n,â you replied, letting a small smile stretch across your lips. A grin began to form on Rodrickâs face, lighting up from your smile. He faced away from you, trying to cover it up.
The room went still again and you caught Rodrick stealing glances at you as his pacing resumed. You walked to the driveway and sat down, looking up at the stars, waiting to leave. You could hear Rodrick stop, and you turned back to catch him staring at you, brows furrowed. You shifted your gaze back to the stars, admiring the way they lit up the darkness of the sky. Footsteps shuffled closer to you and Rodrick was sat beside you, leaving a wide space between the two of you. Both of his drumsticks tapped against his leg as he looked around anxiously.
âHow do you do that drumstick spin?â you asked curiously, turning your attention to him. âI saw you do it when you guys were playing.â He shrugged a little, seemingly acting shy or embarrassed. âCould you teach me?â you asked quietly and a faint smile started to stretch across his lips.
It was a little while before your brother had returned, mouth full of food. You and Rodrick had been talking as he tried to teach you. You both turned around, pausing your movement with the drumsticks, as your brother stumbled out the door.
âMan, youâve got some great food in there,â he started, muffled and laughing. His face dropped when he noticed you were beside Rodrick, closer than you had started. He pointed between the two of you and started to swallow the rest of the food in his mouth so his next string of words would be clear. âWhatâre you doing?â
âNothing,â you replied, standing up. Rodrick quickly scrambled to his feet after you, nearly falling over again. âI just asked Rodrick to teach me something.â You were being vague and you could tell it was setting your brother off.
âY/n, get in the car. I need to talk to Rodrick,â your brother demanded. You frowned a little.
Handing Rodrickâs drumstick back to him, you walked to the car and tossed yourself in the passenger seat, slamming the door shut. You pouted slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. Despite your initial thought of Rodrick, you had a better time talking to him than most guys your age. Granted, Rodrick was only a year older, but it was different. Maybe it was the added aspect of him being your brotherâs bandmate that made it more exciting. But you were unbothered by that fact, you had just wished you had gotten to talk to him more.
Rodrick and your brother talked for a while and when your brother got in the car, he seemed pissed. He stayed silent through the car ride and the tension was practically suffocating you. Itâs not like you and Rodrick had done anything.
Your parents were already home by the time you pulled into the driveway. They were sat on the couch, watching some movie together. It was nearly 10:30 but your parents had long since given up on a curfew for the two of you.
You greeted your parents and wished them goodnight before running off to your room. You hoped your brother wouldnât hold a grudge against you and the whole Rodrick thing would just blow over in the morning. Unfortunately, that wasnât Rodrickâs intention.
The bell rang, signaling the school dayâs end. Kids poured out of classrooms, their laughter and shouts filling the hall. You rushed to your locker and fumbled for the lock.
You and your brother had worked things out. He had told you just to stay away from Rodrick and he said he had told Rodrick the same thing. Seems like Rodrick missed that part.
A hand slammed your locker shut, startling you. A tall figure with dark messy hair and some sort of graphic t-shirt tucked only in the front behind a pair of jeans stood there. Rodrick smirked, leaning up against the locker next to yours. You were stunned, a half full backpack in your hands with your jaw hanging slack.
âWhat are you doing here?â you asked, pushing him away as you started to unlock your locker once more.
âI go to school here,â he retorted. You rolled your eyes and quickly shoved the rest of your things in your bag.
âNo shit?â you questioned sarcastically, closing your locker. His brow furrowed. âI meant what are you doing talking to me?â He smiled, looking away from you.
âWell, I decided I donât care what your brother tells me to do,â he replied simply, a smirk still plastered on his lips. God, you wished you could smack it off.
âSo, what, you wanna talk to me now?â you pestered, zipping up your backpack and slinging it on one shoulder.
âWho said I didnât want to talk to you before?â he blurted out. He froze, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. You could feel a slight blush creep on your face but you dismissed it, shaking your head. You started to walk away but Rodrick followed, still trying to keep your attention.
âDo you need something from my brother or are you really just here to bother me?â you asked as you pushed open the front doors, exiting the school. Rodrick grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side, away from the crowd of students eager to get home.
âThis isnât about your brother. You could come over and I could finish teaching you-â he rambled but you stopped him.
âYou must be crazy, Rodrick. If my brother sees me standing here with you right now, Iâm as good as dead, and so are you,â you urged, trying to walk away from him but he pulled you back.
âThen come over tonight. Just you. He wonât see then,â Rod suggested. Your jaw seemed to drop a little and you nearly gave in. You shook your head.
âNo, no, no, heâll ask where I was or where iâm going and he wonât stop until he figures it out,â you tried to explain, attempting to flee one last time but he pulled you back.
âThen just lie. If he asks me, Iâll do the same.â You paused, and swallowed a lump in your throat.
âWhy are you so determined to talk to me?â you questioned, looking at him puzzled. He looked down, biting the inside of his cheek. He shrugged and his eyes looked everywhere but you.
You hated to admit it but you were disappointed. You were hoping to get an answer out of Rodrick but as the moments passed and there was nothing but shared silence between you two, you left. And that night, you almost considered going over to his house but you thought better of it and stayed home.
The same thing happened the next day. And the day after that. And for a little while after that. He incessantly pestered you day after day. Some days, he only spoke to you briefly, asking if you knew whether or not your brother was coming over for a band rehearsal. Other days, it seemed like he didnât know your brother existed and he only asked about you. It was getting easier to tell him no, even if you wanted to say yes. He was expecting rejection.
By the second week of asking, he was losing interest and would take no as answer right away instead of asking repeatedly after that. And on Friday, he didnât ask at all. You saw him walking to his van, headphones in with his head down. You frowned, watching him tentatively, hoping he was fetching something from the car and he would turn back and ask you.
As the weekend came along, you tapped your desk with your pen. There was a pile of crumbled up papers beside you and your notebook was nearly halfway ripped out. You frustratedly drew a bunch of scribbles on the page when no words would come out. You torn the piece of paper out and crumbled it, tossing it with the rest of the papers. You gave up, tossing your pen on your desk and turning to your bed. You flopped down and stared at your ceiling blankly. You hadnât managed to stop thinking about Rodrick since you had seen him walking away. You shut your eyes, trying to clear your head.
Rodrick was doing the same in his room. He blasted music in his ears, trying to occupy his time. Calling him head over heels was an understatement, but it was a statement he couldnât wrap his head around. You were annoyed because you couldnât stop thinking about him for a day. Heâd been hung up on you for weeks. At first, he thought nothing of it. He thought you were cool, cooler than your brother, and he just wanted to talk to you again. But the more he saw you and the more he talked you (even though every time you spoke, you were turning him down), he was becoming crazy over you. Heâd do anything to impress you, making a fool of himself in the process. He wished you would notice him. Every band rehearsal he had, he prayed that your brother would bring you along again. He was always disappointed. But he would never say he had feelings cause he didnât believe he had any for you.
It was Saturday night and your guilt was eating you alive. You paced your room for a while, trying to clear your thoughts but nothing worked. You ended up surrendering into temptation. You booked it downstairs and swiped the car keys off the counter. Unfortunately, your brother was downstairs.
âWhere are you going?â he asked, stopping you at the door.
âMy friendâs house, why?â you replied innocently, hiding your intentions.
âThen why are you in a hurry?â he questioned. You racked your brain for a response and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
âGirl problems,â you answered, knowing he wouldnât ask anymore questions after that. He made a face of disgust and walked back to the couch. You let out a light sigh of relief before scurrying out the door.
It wasnât long before you pulled to a stop in the Heffleyâs driveway. You nervously walked up the front steps and hesitated before ringing the doorbell. You thought you had the wrong house when a boy, who looked to be only 12, answered the door.
âIs Rodrick here?â you asked cautiously, anxiously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. The boyâs jaw dropped and he glanced back inside the house.
âYouâre here for Rodrick?â he marveled. âRodrick?â he asked again in shock. You smiled a little, some of the nervousness easing. He remained stunned as he invited you in.
âWho was it?â a womanâs voice called from the kitchen. You started to realize how much of mistake this was. The boy looked at you again.
âWhatâs your name?â he asked quietly.
âY/n,â you mumbled.
âItâs one of Rodrickâs friends, Y/n,â the boy answered. You could hear footsteps coming closer now and you panicked, wishing you could turn back and flee.
âBut y/n sounds like a girlâs name,â the woman spoke quietly and she seemed pleasantly surprised when her eyes found you. You didnât look like most of Rodrickâs friends. Sure, this wasnât the best you looked but you were more put together than the rest of his friends.
âOh! Hi!â she exclaimed. Oh god, you thought to yourself, Iâm meeting his parents. âIâm Susan, Rodrickâs mom. Itâs so good to meet you,â she went on, extending her hand out to you. You felt bad considering your hands were a bit clammy from all the anxiety you felt, but you shook her hand anyway out of politeness. âGreg, will you go get Rodrick?â she asked the boy and he nodded and reluctantly ran up the stairs.
âI-I didnât mean to interrupt or show up at a bad time or anything,â you stuttered but she smiled and shook her head.
âNonsense! Would you like to stay for dinner?â she offered. Your eyes widened a little.
âI couldnât possibly ask that of you,â you quickly replied. Footsteps came running down the stairs and your attention diverted. The boy, alongside Rodrick, came running down the stairs. Your heart seemed to be pounding out of your chest, thumping obnoxiously in your ears. Your eyes frantically looked between the three of them. You could only assume your face was turning red.
âWhy have you never told me about her, Rodrick?â Susan asked, a smile still on her face. âShe seems lovely.â You forced a polite smile but it faltered when you caught Rodrickâs eye.
âGuess I forgot,â he lied.
âUh, Rodrick?â you asked, your voice breaking. You cleared your throat. âCan i talk to you?â A small smirk started to form on his lips.
âYeah, come on, we can talk in my room,â he suggested. You swallowed a lump in your throat and followed him carefully up the stairs. Your eyes were glassy and you could feel your lip start to bleed as you continuously chewed on it.
His room was in the attic which only distanced you further away from your escape route. He flopped down onto his bed, resting his back against the headboard and crossing his legs over one another. He put his hands behind his head, the smirk still on his lips.
âSo, you changed your mind, huh?â Rodrick chuckled. You could feel the pink rush to your cheeks, wishing he hadnât looked as good as he did. But, god, you wished you could slap him and take the smirk away from his face.
âIf my brother finds out,â you pause, stepping closer to him. âIf you tell him, Rodrick, I will-â
âYouâll what, sweetheart?â Rodrick teased, leaning forward so he was closer to you. He chuckled when your jaw went slack, flustered and speechless.
You managed to regain your confidence and you pushed him away from you so he was leaning against the headboard again.
âIâm leaving. This was a mistake,â you explained, ready to dash for the exit. Rodrick was already on his feet and blocking the staircase within the blink of an eye.
âHow is this a mistake?â he asked, keeping you from leaving. You sighed and tried to push him aside but he fought back.
âRodrick,â you warned but he didnât budge.
âIf this is a mistake, whyâd you come here in the first place?â Rodrick asked, searching your eyes for an answer. You paused, looking away. Your shoulders shrugged and you could hear him faintly sigh.
âHow come you keep trying to talk to me at school? I met you once at a band rehearsal, it was nothing!â Your voice was starting to raise, unaware of your emotions.
âI know that was nothing! I just donât know what it is! I donât know why, okay?â Rodrick shouted back. He was sure his parents would be able to hear if they walked by, but that was one of the last things on his mind.
âWhat, do you like me or something?â Your voice came out harsh and impolite and you wished you had shut up a long time ago. You shut your eyes, and looked down. âI-Iâm sorry,â you began to ramble but Rodrick wasnât listening, too enveloped by his own thoughts.
He couldnât like you. He could never. He liked Heather Hills. Heâs spent forever chasing after her and doing everything to impress her. Thatâs who he liked. You were just his friendâs annoying little sister. Just because you talked to him first or that you had an interest in his band didnât mean he liked you. It didnât mean you liked him either. Just because he spent weeks chasing after you doesnât mean it was romantically inclined, right.
âY/n,â Rodrick spoke over your stutters of an apology. You went quiet, eyes glassy. He hesitated, swallowing a lump in his throat. âYou wanna go to the dance with me?â Your eyes went wide and your brow furrowed.
âWhat? What does that have to do with anything?â you questioned, confused and dazed.
âI was going to ask you. I donât know why,â he added. âThereâs a dance in about a month. I was going to ask you after we had hung out but I think youâd like to leave now and I just had to ask-â
âAre you crazy?â you asked, bewildered. He fell silent. He knew it had been the wrong time to ask but he couldnât hold the words from rolling off tongue his any longer.
âIs that a yes or no?â he asked. You shook your head and pushed him aside.
âNo, Rodrick. And donât ask for a reason. Thereâs too many of them.â
The dismissing bell rang, marking the end of the day. You hurried to your locker and quickly piled everything inside. Part of you hoped that Rodrick would come running up and slam your locker shut, scaring you the way it always did. You stood foolishly, glancing around for any sight of him. When there was nothing, you closed it and made your way towards the exit.
You trudged to your brotherâs car, who you shared a ride with, and heard him arguing with someone else. You tried to hide behind the side of the car and peek your head up to watch and listen to what he was saying. Thatâs when you noticed the white van parked beside you with Löded Diper painted on it. It was Rodrick.
âYou asked her to the dance?! What the hell, dude?! Sheâs my sister!â your brother shouted. You felt your face flush and your heart stopped.
âLook, man, Iâm sorry! She didnât say yes so what does it matter anyway?â Rodrick fought back. You glanced around nervously before you decided to make your presence known before the argument got any worse.
âWhat are you guys talking about?â you asked, acting oblivious. They glanced at each other then looked back at you.
âNothing, get in the car,â your brother said, sliding into the driverâs seat. Rodrick looked annoyed and hurt and he avoided looking at you, hiding the way the tears started to pool in his eyes. He shook his head and got in the front seat of his van. You swung open the car door and flopped yourself down into the seat, wishing you couldâve said something to Rodrick.
Later that night, your brother was passed out asleep on the couch, some television show blasting on the tv. You swiftly snuck your way into his room, searching around for the piece of paper where your brother kept phone numbers. Your brother was terrible when it came to remembering numbers, which became an advantage for you.
You found the slip of paper in his desk drawer and you quickly scanned the list until you found Rodrickâs number. You pulled out your phone and hurriedly dialed it before scurrying out the room in case your brother had woken up.
The phone rung for a while as you paced your room until a tired voice on the other end of the line picked up.
âHello?â the voice asked, raspy and ridden with sleep. You let out a light sigh of relief, glad he had picked up.
âHey, Rodrick, can we talk?â you asked, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth.
âWho is this?â he groaned, followed by the rustle of what sounded like bedsheets.
âIâm afraid if I told you, youâd hang up,â you mumbled. Finally waking up, your words seem to catch his attention and he managed to put 2 and 2 together.
âY/n?â he guessed, knowing the sound of your voice all too well now. Your eyes shifted down and you hesitated before answering with a quiet âyesâ.
âLook, Rod, Iâm sorry about Saturday. I was a total ass and I was just confused and tired, and I know those are just a bunch of excuses but-â He interrupted.
âItâs fine. You were right.â He sounded run down and miserable.
Silence filled the room and you only felt more guilty as the seconds passed. You racked your brain for something to say, feeling the tears start to pool in your eyes.
âAre you still going to that dance?â you asked, your voice breaking from the tears coming on. Rodrick was quiet for a moment and you thought maybe he hung up or fell asleep again.
âYeah, why?â he questioned, sitting up in his bed curiously. You shut your eyes in embarrassment before you spoke again.
âIf you donât already have another date, I wanna go. With you.â His end of the line went dead silent. You pulled the phone away from your ear and checked to make sure he hadnât hung up this time. You shut your eyes tightly, wishing you hadnât said anything at all. You shouldâve never called him, you shouldâve never gone over to his house, you shouldnât have talked to him at the rehearsal-
The line clicked and he was gone, leaving without a response. Your heart sank and a hot tear rolled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away and threw your phone across the room, not caring if it broke. You could feel more tears coming on and you buried your face in your hands.
You were left sobbing for a while before you heard the doorbell ring, followed by a long string of impatient knocks. You quickly wiped your tears away and checked your reflection on your way out of your room to make sure you didnât look like a shit-show.
The loud rapping on the door didnât stop until you reached the door. You swung the door open, prepared to shout at whoever had been knocking at the door annoyingly for so long. You froze when you saw the figure outside the door, your mouth going slightly agape. Before you could even fully process it, lips were pressed against yours and you felt your heart skip a beat. Your head went fuzzy, unable to think straight. You could only feel his lips and the rush of blood going to your face and how you could feel every goosebump rising on your skin. It felt nearly euphoric, making every bad thought slip away as if theyâd never happened.
His lips separated from yours and your eyes fluttered open. Your eyes were met with glassy brown doe eyes with a few strands of shaggy deep brown hair falling in front of them. His tall figure stood over you, leaning down close to you. His eyes flicked down to your lips then back to your eyes. He started to move in for another kiss but you pulled back, putting a hand on his chest to push him away. You shook your head.
âNot here. My brother could see,â you whispered. Thankfully your brother hadnât woken up from his deep sleep on the couch even after the persistent knocking and the doorbell. But you werenât gonna risk it.
âI donât care,â Rodrick mumbled and he brought his lips to yours again. You kept him close to you but pushed him away from the door and closed it behind you. Your back pressed against the door and you pulled him closer to you by his collar.
When your lips broke apart again, a smile spread across your face as you pressed your forehead to his. âSo, about the dance,â you began slowly. His lips brushed against yours again and his hand cupped your face.
âThat later,â he mumbled. âHow about you come over tonight?â
âââ
a/n: okay so i may have gotten a bit carried away with this one, but i hope this matched your request!
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đ I am respectfully begging you to pls write more hotaao, literally any scenario with them, that recent thing you wrote was fucking incredible đđ
Hey anon I want you to know when I got this I screenshot it and showed all my friends because I was really excited to see it. I know it took a while to respond but that's because I wanted to write something in honor of this ask,,, :')
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Marie took any excuse she could to go to Callie's house. Her own house didn't feel safe, even when she was alone. It was fun to run off to her aunt and uncle's house and pretend everything was normal and no one was cruel to her and her mind was quiet. If she was alone for too long, her mind started drifting to dark places. If she thought about Callie in an attempt to feel better, then it went somewhere worse.
Years ago, and she would never tell a soul, Marie had become particularly attached to one photo of Callie from her family vacation to a small, not far off amusement park called The Salty Ink Boardwalk. Marie had never been. They had a small water park area, and one of Callie's parents had taken a picture of her by a swimming pool in a cute two piece bathing suit.
It was the first time Marie had ever really noticed girls. Or anyone, for that matter. She was fixated on how looking at it made her feel, until one day, she did the unthinkable. She touched herself while staring at the picture on her phone. She knew she'd crossed a line that she couldn't come back from, and vowed never to do it or think about it again. Most importantly, the real Callie could never know it happened! She didn't delete the picture until several months later. Just in case.
Callie was alone tonight, with her parents out on an anniversary date to some fancy hotel. Callie's parents loved each otherâŠshe was lucky. They loved her, too! They liked Marie, but not as much as their own daughter. She was just the weird little niece who came over way, way too much.
"But Marie! Isn't that a scary movie?" Callie whined when she saw Marie's idea of evening entertainment. She always liked it when Marie came over, but sometimes she was a little odd. It was dark out, and they were totally alone in the house. Callie wasn't confident she could handle something like that without having nightmares. Maybe if Marie stayed in her room she'd feel better. And if they could leave the overhead light on all night.
"Yeah, that's why I brought it. It's seasonal! Besides, aren't you a little old to be scared of horror movies?"
"No. They're scary. That's the point! To be scared and afraid."
"Those mean the same thing. C'mon, I'll make popcorn and you can hide under a blanket if it's too much~."
Food was always a quick way to win Callie over, especially when it was something she couldn't easily get on her own. Which was most things. She was talented in many areas, but the kitchen was not one of them. She reluctantly agreed to Marie's offer, and soon enough, she was sitting on the couch with a large bowl of popcorn and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
"Why'd you turn the lights off too! It's already dark outside!"
"You're basically an adult and you're still scared of the dark?"Â
Callie huffed, hugging the bowl to her chest, "all mine now. Meanie."Â
Marie flopped down next to her, shoving her entire hand into the bowl and spilling several kernels onto the blanket and floor. "Gimme."
She shook her head, turning away. "Watch your scary movie, I'm busy," Callie said, back to Marie.
Marie knew it wouldn't last long, and Callie's curiosity would get the better of her like always.Â
A few minutes in and Callie had already turned back around, setting the bowl on the table to share, if Marie really wanted.
"Hey, is that that one actor?"
"Who?"
"That guy! He was inâŠthat one movie! I like him, he kinda looks like you, don'tcha think?"
Marie shrugged, "I dunno what you mean."
"Well, he's always got a really serious expression and those really pretty gold eyes."
She blushed, brushing off her comment with only silence. She did her best to look interested in the movie, but now she could barely process what was being said.
Things only got worse when a fake jump scare was enough to startle Callie. Instinctively, she jumped to Marie for comfort, holding onto her arm and pressing up against her. Marie held her breath until she calmed down.
"Scaredy Cal."
Despite the insult, Callie didn't back down. She leaned on Marie just like she used to do when they were younger. She could smell Callie's body wash this close. Melon of some variety, she thought.
She let her mind wander, indulging in the fantasy that Callie was doing this on purpose. That she knew how Marie felt. Definitely not possible.
"Snuggle better." Callie demanded, pulling Marie's arm around her shoulders. "You're supposed to be protecting me from the scary stuff."
She tried, and failed, to relax. It was obvious how tense she was⊠Hopefully, Callie would think she was just freaked out by the movie that she had long since stopped watching.
Marie began slowly rubbing Callie's arm over the blanket. It was a gesture she seemed to enjoy as she snuggled up closer, nearly in Marie's lap now. When Callie reached up to grab her hand, she was certain she was going to stop her. Instead Callie just held onto it. No way it was a coincidence..! She wanted to push her luck, just a little.
As subtle as she could manage, Marie rested her other hand on Callie's thigh, deliberately not taking her eyes off the TV. Callie didn't seem bothered. A victory? She was feeling confident now, for a brief, thrilling moment.
They sat together like that for a while, in comfortable silence. Callie had her head resting against Marie, still holding her hand. It was nice, while it lasted, though not long enough in Marie's mind. A rather abrupt sex scene caught them both off guard. They both tried to act disinterested so as not to seem weird to the other. In an attempt to look at anything but the screen, they mistakenly looked at each other, freezing in place.
Callie had a peculiar look on her face as she peered up at Marie. She was thinking about something, or maybe trying not to think of it. Marie didn't have a chance to do anything before Callie quickly, wordlessly, kissed her. Less than a second worth of contact. She bit her lip, waiting for Marie's reaction, holding her breath.
Marie blinked. Then stared. She opened her mouth, wanting to say⊠something. She didn't know what. Nothing.
She grabbed Callie's face, kissing her like she'd never kissed anyone before (she hadn't). Don't think about it, don't think about it. She tasted like sugar, likely from all the candy she ate when she thought no one noticed. But more importantly, she tasted like Callie. That was enough to make her dizzy.Â
Was she doing a good job? Did Callie like it? What if she wasn't good enough? Callie had kissed people before! She could judge her performance. Would she do that? Was that a thing people did? She had no past experiences to know what was normal. All she could think about was Callie. How much she wanted Callie. Needed Callie.Â
Kissing Callie felt like home. She was so warm and soft and safe. But Marie was miserable and greedy. She'd never had anything and now she wanted everything.
Callie didn't.
Marie snapped back into reality when Callie grabbed her wrist. She'd pushed it up under her shirt, but didn't get far.
"Ah, hey, hey, Marie. Not so fastâŠ"
She froze, realizing what had just happened between them. She wanted to cry, but not in front of Callie.
"I gotta get home. My parents are gonna wonder where I am." She didn't and they weren't.
Callie didn't argue. Marie pulled her shoes on, sprinting into the blankness of Calamari County.
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