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veridium · 5 years

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just stay here tonight

HEY SO, FRIDAY NIGHT CHAPTER FOR FRIDAY NIGHT? WHO’S WITH ME FOR SOME MAGIC? COLLEGE AU UPDATE COMING AT YOU LIVE!

Get your kleenex out just in case...because...I needed mine...

Episode title brought to you by Augustana and one of my favorite songs from them. :)

fic episode masterpost

Thursday is forgettable, with the exception of the mildly entertaining but all-out cringe of Cullen’s appearance in the dorms. Friday, on the other hand? Non-stop anguish. Not the Greek tragedy kind, per se, but wondering: wondering if she knows just exactly what the fuck she’s doing, primarily. For too long, Olivia has gotten used to people chasing her down for exactly what they want from her, and what she wants from them, and nothing else. Indulging people rather than engaging has been her modus operandi since she was on the edge of seventeen.

So, understandably, Friday evening in preparation for her gambit is...interesting.

After spending a couple hours getting it all ready, and packing up the teeny trunk of her vehicle, the task at hand becomes getting her own ass together. Something that everyone wants to have a say in, apparently. Or, if you’re Sera, a knock on her door followed by a “knock her dead, Liv, wear the spiked stilettos! They’d make a clean kill!”

Then, there are the texts:

Ellinor: Hey dude, let me know how it goes, okay? I wish you’d tell me what you’re doing.

Ellinor: Okay I know you have your own life but it’s also like ⅓ mine so…

Ellinor: Fuck I think Cullen might be one of those people who unironically likes raisinettes…

Ellinor: oh my god I’m sorry this is about you but I’m nervous so I keep blabbering WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU’RE DOING SO I DON’T HAVE TO PULL APART THESE RED VINES LIKE A MASOCHIST??

Theia: It doesn’t matter what happens I’m still killing her ok. The bitch has it coming.

Theia: [ CHICAGO . GIF]

Josie: NO YOU ARE NOT. WE HAVE DISCUSSED THIS.

Theia: That...was not meant for group chat. Yikes, sorry babe.

Josie: Right.

Lace: Lol another one for the fuck-up screenshots

Lace: Good gay mojo your way, Liv.

The sentiments are all appreciated, but they don’t really hit home. All alone in her room, putting on makeup and feeling like Mulan in the montage before she rides off to the army, it’s all a wonder as to why Cassandra agreed to go on this escapade. It’s as if she’s been fooled into thinking Olivia has a clue. Or, maybe she’s riding along to witness the impending crash-and-burn. A final act of karmic vindication, perhaps.

She picks out a black tank bodysuit and high-waisted, blue skinny jeans. Besides, where they are going isn’t exactly ‘fine goth attire required.’ However, the one staple that will not be left behind is her black leather jacket. Lacing up her converse and slapping on some gloss, and a hair tie on her wrist, and she’s ready to go.

The walk to their suite is an unfamiliar one, but one Ellinor did enough to be able to tell her off memory where to go. Right down to the number on their door. She should ask Ellinor to make a map, just in case, for teasing purposes -- but she looked too busy on cloud 9 earlier that day thinking about her own plans with Rutherphallus. One day, maybe, she’ll stop calling him by demeaning euphemisms. One day. But that day is not today.

Olivia paces in a weird circle a couple of times just outside the suite, hands on her hips as she does her best to remember she has lungs to breathe with. The actual door, the nice door, the one that looks like it works well and is nicely painted. Dorm room doors aren’t this nice. Crap. She’s quietly holding off an implosion. What if she says no after all this? What if she doesn’t like her outfit? What if she’s mean again? God, she can be mean. But then, she stops. Remembers when Cassandra was cornered in the library, and said with such earnest relief in her face that she felt like she could be herself around her. That Liv didn’t make a big deal of things. Psh, well, that was a misinformed belief. Misinformed but...kind.

Taking one last deep breath, she wipes her palms against her denim and knocks on the door. Within ten seconds, it opens. No monsters or ghosts or natural disasters -- no, it’s her, just her, on her other side. Cassandra, in black jeans and a grey v-neck sweater, and all-black tennis shoes like the ones Olivia would wear in high school, except nicer.

Her heart jumps into her throat as Cassandra grins and steps back. “Hey,” she says, all calm and collected and...and...just...fine.

“Hey,” Olivia gets out, her brows lifted along with her pulse rate. “You...you are awake still!”

“Yeah...you said 11.”

“I did. I did say...11. 11 in the evening. PM. Night...time…” she shakes her head and cuts herself off before she sounds too ridiculous. Maybe it’s too late, though. “Um, yeah. You...ready to head out?”

Cassandra, who’s been watching her feud with herself, only smiles and breaks away from the door. Bless her. “Yeah, I’m good, I just need to grab my coat.’

“Right! Yeah, good idea. Night is cold, and...yep, good call. Smart--”

“Liv.”

She blinks, and realizes she’s been looking off into space while talking. Dammit. “Yeah?”

“You’re not very good this, are you?”

“This...this what?”

Cassandra chuckles, and turns back toward the inside of the suite. “I’ll be right back. Try not to scare the neighbors.” She is back quickly, sliding a dark purple duffle jacket on, keys dangling in her hand as she pulls the door shut behind her and locks it. Olivia rocks on her heels in the meantime, looking down either end of the hall -- not a soul to be seen, for a Friday night -- before Cassandra faces her again.

“Alright, where to?”

“Oh, yeah, my car. It’s...gonna be a little bit of a walk to the parking lot, but, you know the parking pass prices are just...bullshit.”

“Yeah.”

They stand there for another awkward few seconds before Olivia once again has it dawn on her she has to lead the way. Fuck. She kicks herself into gear, and Cassandra follows, staring at her like she’s an animal planet show host taking notes on a creature’s behavior. Or, maybe she’s just...fine...and Olivia feels that. Whatever, same difference, right?

The walk happens silently, save for a few polite smiles whenever one of them opens a door for the other. Oh, and Olivia patting her back pocket to make sure she brought her keys. When they get to the lot, and she sees her valiant steed parked, she feels more at home.

“So, ever ride in a mini with muscle?”

“Excuse me?” Cassandra glances at her as they step onto the asphalt.

Olivia giggles under her breath. “A mini with muscle. You know, one with some….like, ‘oomph’ under the hood?”

“I would not know what ‘oomph’ means, but in your hands, I have my concerns.”

“Hah! Funny, very funny.” They diverge from one another, Cassandra going to the passenger door while Olivia goes around the back. She pulls out her keys and unlocks, sliding in nice and smooth. Cassandra is more polite and careful, but she settles in next to her. She probably doesn't spend much time in small cars. Olivia gets more giddy with anticipation, putting up her hair into a simple ponytail.

“...many concerns,” Cassandra reiterates.

“Psh, what?” Olivia scrunches her nose, her hands falling into her lap. “You think I don’t walk what I talk?”

“No, in fact I’m wondering quite the opposite.”

“Why be afraid of a woman who knows how to handle a good car? I wasn’t afraid of you when we rode on your bike.”

Cassandra rolls her eyes, grabbing for the seat belt. “I am going to go ahead and prepare myself the way I should, since I have a feeling as to how this is going to go should I tease you further. Or if I dare ask where it is you’re taking me at this hour.”

Olivia watches her, and she can’t help but smile. She leans forward with one arm on the wheel, and she sticks the key into the ignition. Turning the car on, she can’t help but love the way the engine purrs.

“Don’t worry, Cass. If I did want to murder you, I’d think of something far more theatrical. Public, with live music and dancing, or something.” she sits back, pulling her own seat-belt on. After that, her hand goes to the stick and her foot to the pedal. In response, Cassandra rests the side of her thigh against her door and plants an elbow on it. She looks unconvinced, or intrigued by something.

“What?”

Cassandra raises a brow. “That is the first time you’ve ever called me Cass. Not Cassandra. Or Pentaghast, for that matter.”

Olivia scoffs, and checks her mirror real quick. “No it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“...Uh, okay, so what? I mean, you want me not to?” she looks over, brow cocked.

Cassandra shrugs and settles in. It’s impossible to know whether she is pleased or displeased by it. Ellinor’s called her Cass, so has Cullen. But it’s a mystery as to whether either of them ever asked about it. But, to her credit, Cassandra looks ahead.

“Do your worst, Olivia.”

Her tongue presses against her smiling teeth, and Olivia feels the engine warm up at last. “With pleasure.”

They drive through town, get on the freeway and past a few exits until Olivia finds the one she’s after. The whole time she is either on par with the speed limits or past them, but once she gets to the outskirts of the county, the traffic goes scarce. Even for a Friday night. A few turns and twists, and she’s on a highway winding incline, up one of the few canyon peaks in the nearby area of rolling hills and flat valleys.

She knows she’s getting close when mostly barren trees start to heavily line the two-lane path, and her mini as always runs like a dream. She has her spotify playing low on the radio, something with a heavy guitar but she can’t quite make out the vocals.

“Well, what do you think?” she asks, as she pulls and hugs tight another sharp turn in the road, engine growling as she accelerates out of it.

Cassandra as far as she has seen, keeps her gaze out the window or on her. Sitting still, but not on edge. “You are asking me for my opinion on your driving?”

Olivia smirks. “I was thinking more about the car, but, I had prepared myself emotionally for your scathing review.” Another turn, this time to the left, and she handles it beautifully. These roads are like the back of her hand, a sight she’s known at all hours and all seasons. Headlights are all she needs.

Cassandra bends her knees a bit more. “I think…” she pauses, while Olivia pulls into what appears to be a destination. Or, rather, a parking lot. “You broke at least three laws in the process, but, I can’t say you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Agh! Bullshit,” Olivia challenges, a subtle laugh in her tone, “I only broke one. Near the turnpike, that’s it.”

“No, you broke three, the second was speeding, and the third was speeding and--”

“Ohoho,” her laugh continues to bubble as she pulls into a parking spot, the only car in the lot by the looks of it, “I sped? No fucking way!” she gasps, pretending to be astonished.

She pushes the stick into place and yanks up the parking brake. They look at each other, now stopped and still, the car lulling. Cassandra doesn’t look flushed or nervous like other people she’s taken along for rides. Maybe she’s been well-conditioned by everything else; too well-conditioned, to be frightened of a fast car and even faster driver. Olivia can only turn the key back and turn off the car; the headlights go out, and the one above their heads comes on.

“Well,” she exhales, adrenaline still surging in her veins, “we’re here.”

“And where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“A park.”

“A...park?” she looks around, through the windows. Not much to see, though.

“Heh,” Olivia unbuckles herself, “come on, you’ll see what I mean. But I have stuff in the trunk for us.”

“Does it happen to be a shovel and body bag? Or even better, a driver’s ed manual?”

Olivia groans and shoves her door open. “No, I’m afraid those are both in my Barbie pink jeep at home. Resting on the squeaky horn rather comfortably like you are on my last nerve.” She gets out, and Cassandra does too, and for a moment they look at each other over the car roof.

Cassandra unzips her jacket but keeps it on. “Fair enough,” she concedes, and they shut their doors. Venturing into the back trunk, Olivia pulls up the door and finds what she left in there: a basket, with its contents covered by a draped, folded heavy blanket. A two-hand job, but not too bad. She picks it up and manages to pull the door back down, all the while Cassandra stands back somewhat looking like a woman of action left without a an action to commit.

“You need help?”

“No, no,” Olivia teases, hitting the button on her car alarm. The lights flicker and she turns to face her. “I am a capable person, capable of many things besides blatant crime. You just need to trust me.”

“You don’t know what you ask,” Cassandra counters, hands going into her jacket pockets, “but fine, I go where you go.”

“Yes,” Olivia closes in on her, until she’s about a foot away, “and tonight, I go there, over that small bridge and up the trail. Come on!”

More walking, and more silence. It’s weird, just a tad, to be acting so congenial after so much heartache. But on the other hand, it’s something she’s craved the whole time: for them to be as they were, as they could have been, had not her pride or her defenses squandered her good graces. The more time they spend not arguing, or ditching each other, the more Olivia dares to hope it can all be redeemed. As they walk on the dirt and wood chip path with only so much as one iPhone flashlight for a little less than a ¼ mile, she appreciates all Cassandra did to open up to her: all the plans, all the exposure. Because the closer they get to where she wants them to end up, the more nerve-wracking it all becomes. Maybe that’s what’s been making Cassandra chuckle and eye her all evening: she’s watching Liv get a taste of her own medicine.

At last, they come to the top of a hillside, where the view is clear over the city below. The spot is all grass and trail, and what looks to be an old rusty playground at the base of it. No lamp posts, no bike racks, no sidewalk. It’s a bit creepy, if you’re a normal person with the usual and healthy fear of coyotes and forest cryptics. But if you’re Olivia Sinclair, it’s anything but.

“Ah, perfect!” She sighs when they come to a stop. “We can stick it here.”

Cassandra looks around, vigilant. “Are you...sure?”

“Yes, sure as any mediocre man.” She sets down the basket on the ground and picks up the blanket. “Don’t worry, I did bring a source of light for you, a mere mortal.”

“Pfft,” Cassandra comes closer, and takes the opposite pair of edges on the blanket so as to help her spread it out. “What, is this where you tell me you’re a vampire? Make me say it while you breathe down my back?”

“Well, shit, now that the rest of the evening’s plans has lost its mystery…”

“Ugh! Do not even!”

Olivia laughs, and with the blanket all out she gets to work with the array of items she’s brought. Four small mason jars with with small white candles in them that she plants on each blanket corner. She gets out a lighter and goes to work on all of them, Cassandra still standing by, loyal but suspicious, as if one could be both at the same time.

“You brought candles?”

Olivia finishes the last one, setting it back down. “Yeah, I need hot wax. You know, for summoning Satan.”

“Olivia!” Cassandra huffs, before stepping onto the woolen fabric and taking a seat. “You’re lucky I’m not one of my peers from my Bible Study. They would start spraying their travel-sized holy water all over you.”

Olivia laughs again, and pulls out some more items from the basket behind her, before she, too, sits down. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. Old habits.”

“Summoning Satan?”

“Nah, teasing you.”

First, Cassandra gives a side-eye, but when Olivia meets her gaze with a warm smile and an offer of peanut M&M’s she softens. She takes the box from her and opens it. “You brought sustenance for our off-grid affair.”

“Yes, I did. Admittedly, it is mostly stuff I was going to bring with me to the movies with Ellinor tonight. I’m a candy smuggler.”

Cassandra smirks. “You had plans tonight with Ellinor?”

“Yeah, she wanted to go see Star Tr--Wars! Dammit, I always get those confused,” she admonishes herself while getting into her own package of sour patch kids. “Anyways, she’s gone with Cullen, so I doubt there’s love lost.”

“I’m sure he’s loving every minute. He’s a huge fan,” Cassandra knocks the first few pieces back. She looks beautiful, with the way her face and neck are illuminated sparsely by firelight. It’s mesmerizing, especially when her eyes light up in their subtle glow. “You broke plans just to...to bring me here?”

Olivia pulls her knees up against her chest. She’s sitting close enough to talk low, hushed and sweet, but far enough for deniability as to her desires. She sucks on a sour piece of candy and looks out at the landscape. “This place is important to me. I go whenever I need to clear my head. Mostly at night, since I go on drives. Ellinor’s been here, and so has Theia. But I don’t bring anyone else here. Not...well, not until tonight, I suppose.”

Cassandra sets down her box, still chewing. “Theia. Is she your friend, the one you were with at the gala?”

“Yes,” she smiles, reaching and taking her hair out of its ponytail. “We’ve been thick as thieves for years.”

“So,” Cassandra chuckles to herself, “that explains it.”

Oh? Olivia looks at her, eyes narrowed unevenly with confused intrigue. “What?” She looks on as Cassandra squirms a bit, in her own kind of way: shoulders tensing, but her expression otherwise hard to read. Her palms clasping together in her criss-crossed lap.

“She looked like she wanted to fight me. That, and...ugh, I shouldn’t say it. It’s ridiculous of me.”

Olivia shrugged. “Cassandra, if anything is welcome around me, it’s being ridiculous. You should know better than anyone at this point.”

She grins crookedly. Reluctance, coming from someone who has the premium on being mature and logical. “I...I noticed how comfortable you were with her. When you came down the stairs, with your arm in hers. I had no idea who she was but I...I got jealous.”

Olivia sucked on her teeth, holding back the urge to laugh from the ludicrous nature of it all, and instead reached for a few more sour patch kids. Fucking hell, Theia was right. Theia and her weird, weird hunches about social cues. God dammit, she would never hear the end of it if she told her that it worked.

“I’m sorry that happened. It was...I don’t know, the whole night was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have gone, but, my Mom makes demands of me that are few but huge. I wasn’t lying when I said my family keeps me on a weird leash, it’s...it’s a long story.”

“No, I get it. Mine does too. No need to apologize,” Cassandra shakes her head, watching as Olivia eats some more. “It was just me being unreasonable. I am guilty of that. It’s sort of my thing.”

“I wouldn’t say…” Olivia scrunches her nose, and swallows her bite. “Well, okay.” She turns herself to face her, crossing her legs like Cassandra has, only a bit tighter. “So, like, first impression of you, alright? On the soccer field, when you and Cullen came up to ask about the Strokes concert. You were intense, and you didn’t waste any time on extra words or...you know, laughing. But you weren’t someone I’d picture when it comes to the word ‘unreasonable.’ Not even when I got to know you. Intense...focused...serious, but not unreasonable.”

Cassandra leans back on her hands, her legs stretching out with one crossing over the other. More relaxed. “Would it be a deal-breaker if I were unreasonable?”

Olivia tucks some hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem to be one of yours. I wouldn’t think it’d be very fair of me to--”

“Oh, so you think you’re the unreasonable one?”

Olivia blinks, and looks towards the woods ahead of her. “I...uh, well…”

“No, no, Ms. Sinclair. You know your words. Make your case.” She’s smiling softly, in that cocky, half-arrogant sort of way. The way that makes you want to believe every word and every thought she’s thinking before she ever says it.

“Um.” Olivia rubs the back of her neck while her mind does its best to put together a coherent response. Not the easiest thing to be done. “I hate to say it, but...I don’t think it’d be nearly as effective as the case you made.”

At that, Cassandra frowns, and peers down at her lap. “Olivia, I was upset, and--”

“No, the thing is,” she takes a half-breath, “you said it yourself you don’t mistake your words. You were right. I like control...but it’s because I like detachment. I want people to like me but I don’t want to risk them letting me down. Oh, and if we need any other filler information, I’m also the Queen of Death in your local Poli Sci class. I mean, if that’s not unreasonable, then…”

Her mind trails off, getting lost in the insecurities she’s named. Once and for all, they’re no longer elephants in the room -- at least for her. In a bizarre way, here, in the middle of a blanket with only four candle jars to light up her world...her world with her...it felt the safest she had been to be herself outside of her close friendships. Far away from anything and everything that’d make her want to shut herself up. In spite of the solace, it’s also sad, and her gaze wanders down as she fiddles with blanket fabric between her fingers. There’s crickets chirping behind her, but not much else to distract.

“You know, Olivia, the soccer field was not the first time we ever came into contact.”

She looks up a bit. That can’t be right; she had never uttered a word to Cassandra before that day. Sure, she existed, and she had seen her around as another person in the crowd, maybe. But never dialogue, and certainly never introductions.

“What?”

Cassandra smiles, and leans up more. “Poli Sci 234. Social movements.”

“But...but you weren’t in that class. I don’t remember you at all--”’

“It was taught by a Professor I had my first year I grew to like a lot. I wanted to take 234, but it wouldn’t fit. I still stopped in once or twice, sat in the back of the class. I still remember...hah,” she bites back a laugh, “you were wearing this big, black bow in your hair, around your ponytail. I didn’t really know what to make of you. This guy was going on and on about his half-soaked opinions, and everyone in the class was checking out. But then you raised your hand and shut him down so mercilessly it was...like…” Cassandra’s chest heaved again with another amazed laugh. “I thought you were going to make him cry.”

Olivia listens, a bit lost at first, but the memory is too stark for her to forget. Oh, she remembers that man. That horrible, libertarian-sympathizing asshole who thought his voice was that of Jesus himself. She gasps her own laugh of disbelief.

“Payten Thompson. Ugh!” she sounds off in disgust. “We...shit! We were discussing the Gay Rights Movement. I remember. He thinks he knows everything there is to know because he’s gay and on the GSA cabinet, but he can’t name the Black trans woman who threw the first shot glass at Stonewall? Fucking bogus.” She rolls her eyes, already starting to see red just recalling the moment she looked across the desks and classmates at him and obliterated his pacifist, respectability-politic drenched opinions.

Cassandra nods. “Yes. It was...so unexpected. At least I thought so. I went to the Professor’s office after that class to visit and he brought you up. Said you were quiet, but when you had something to say, you didn’t hold back. I assumed our paths would cross in classes eventually, so I didn’t really follow up after. Then months passed, and I started seeing this girl hanging out with her friend on the grass by the field. One with a black bow in her hair.”

That bow was a good look. A very good look. Shit luck she lost it at a party and hadn’t been able to find one to replace it. It was pique aesthetic. Well, that wasn’t the point of this discussion.

Olivia finds herself blushing, and she tries to escape it by watching the city lights. “I...didn’t see you in that class. That’s so funny.”

“I’m not really someone who captures people’s attention. Not like you. But my point is, you’re not the only one who likes distance and control.”

“Yeah,” she replies, dismissive of herself, “what a valuable talent I have, getting attention. I should put it on my CV.”

Out of nowhere, or at least to Olivia, Cassandra sits up and places her fingers along the far side of Olivia’s face. With unexpected care and touch she guides Olivia’s gaze back to her. With shocked obedience she follows along, lips parting and eyes rounding.

Cassandra looks determined, assured of herself. Confident, but compassionate.

“Liv, if it’s one thing that doesn’t look good on you, and one thing only, it is being apologetic of what makes you so amazing.”

Her non-stop blush goes into sudden-fever mode. Thank goodness for the dull lighting. Olivia inhales, but is at a loss for words. Well, until she isn’t: the moment Cassandra tries to withdraw her hand.

“No,” she lets escape, voice cracked. She takes hold of it, and holds it to her lap.

Cassandra’s eyes widen but she goes along. “Liv, are you...what are--”

“Cassandra, I…” oh, crap, she’s done so little thinking about this whole night. For someone who says they love control and indifference, she’s throwing it all to the wind. “Look, can I...can I just be honest about something? About...about tonight?”

Cassandra tilts her head. “What, did you actually not forget the shovel?”

“Ugh, no! It’s...it’s not anything like that. I mean it, I’m…”

“What is it then?”

Well, fuck. Here...goes nothing. She takes a deep breath, something she’s been doing frequently tonight, and closes her eyes for the beginning. The jumping off point. “I don’t want to be happy if it’s without you. I don’t want to be angry if it’s not with you. You...you drive me crazy, and confuse me, but...but you also make me laugh, and you eat the peanut M&M’s I hate but buy anyway because I think maybe this time around I’ll like them, but I never do so I try to pawn them off on Ellinor, and that’s insane of me, but...but you...you make the insane things I do make sense for some reason. I brought you here because I wanted...to say...I wanted to ask you…”

“Ask me...what?”

She re-opens her eyes, and they are starting to sting from the build-up of emotion. The walls are crumbling away into dust and sand, and all she has is one Hail Mary to throw before it’s all botched for good. This would be her only chance, her one chance -- there could be no more believing it could happen some other day, or in some other universe. She was done with the denial. Surrounded by cheap candles and sugar-salt on her tongue, she was going for broke.

“If...if I could...have another shot.”

Cassandra has the best poker face in the world. It’s a good listening face, though. For every second she doesn’t react, Olivia feels herself sinking a foot deeper into the ground. Asking for something she in no way deserves after all the nonsense. But she’s sick of not trying. Which is why, when Cassandra grins to one side, and tucks a leg underneath the other so as to lean further into her, it’s the closest she’ll ever come to believing in a higher power probably in her entire life.

There has to be a rejection on the wings. All the hints, all the signs that Cassandra didn’t want her anymore. Past-tense was past-tense, right? Well, not exactly.

As Cassandra’s eyes half-close, and she leans in slowly with her lips reaching towards hers, it all feels like some bittersweet recreation of a memory. The couch, in the office, when everything went wrong. Butterflies run amok in her, and she freezes. Now Olivia knows how she might have felt. How could she have had the guts to say no to this?

She just has that much integrity.

But she’s not going anywhere this time. This time, she leans in the rest of the remaining couple inches, and they kiss. They kiss. And it’s cautious, like all innocent first kisses are: far and away more docile than what Olivia’s typically gone for. There’s no clamoring, no rigor. Although, in their place is respect and relief. She’ll happily take that exchange as she closes her eyes and submits, not wanting for anything. Her hands go to either side of Cassandra’s face, sliding them against her skin until the ends of her fingers are in her hair. Her short, soft hair. So soft. Their kiss grows, but is steady in its shyness.

Then, she pulls back ever-so-slightly, and her eyes slit open.

“Um, hey...so, this is...awkward, but, I actually...I got somewhere to be…” she whispers, softly grimacing. What better way to cap off a raw moment of vulnerability than a cringey joke?

Cassandra raises a brow, and her hand slides around to the back of Olivia’s neck. “I was right, you aren’t very good at this.” Her lips graze against Olivia’s. “But fine, I dare you to leave.”

Olivia blushes some more, and arches her back against her. “No, I think I’d rather try my luck at tasting the M&M’s again…” she smiles fiendishly, and her eyes flash into Cassandra’s, before she returns her lips to hers. The way Cassandra feels, the way she kisses her, the way her hand feels sliding down her collarbone and onto her shoulder…the warmth of her breath raising, and their rhythm with each other starting to find its way...

She yearns for nothing and nowhere else.

#college au update #modern!olivia #ellinor trevelyan #day & age #WOOOOOOOO #modern thedas #UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE

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