#piscespetals writing

[piscespetals]

summary: you & sevika work in an office, and developing a silly schoolgirl crush is the last thing you expected to happen at this point in your career...

word count: i stopped counting 3/4 of the way through once I reached 16k so this is pretty hefty!

content: pinning (of course), fluff, gay disaster, the tiniest sliver of smut

thanks for reading!

Kinda in my feelings about what it would be like to work in the same office as Sevika...

╰➤ I feel like you see her in passing a lot, since her office is only a few doors down from yours.

╰➤ The both of you often strike up casual conversations in the break room, filling the silence while awkwardly waiting for your food to heat up in the microwave.

╰➤ You always notice when she walks into the same room as you because she's constantly dressed to the nines—slacks hugging her thick thighs just right; form fitting and sleek. They shape the curved muscles of her calves as if the manufacturers make the material just for her.

╰➤ You also notice that she has a knack for neutral colors, especially with her dress shirts. She likes the top buttons to be undone, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and collar perfectly crisp. The air that swarms her is usually woodsy with a hint of spice.

╰➤ She's magical.

╰➤ And because of that, you aren't surprised at the buzz about her in the workplace. She's one of the new hires so it's natural for her to stir up curiosity. But beyond that, there's no doubt that she's quite the enigma. You've even heard a few colleagues gossip about how much they want her.

╰➤ The first time you interact with her is when you're waiting for the microwave to finish warming up your lasagna.

╰➤ Her dress shoes click softly against the tile floor as she enters the break room, causing you to glance over your shoulder. Your eyes widen when her gaze flickers from the microwave to you.

╰➤ "Hi," You mumble pathetically. Your stomach churns and your toes curl and all of a sudden, it's like you're a shy prepubescent person all over again.

╰➤ She smells good.

╰➤ "Hey," Her voice is deep and warm. It rings straight through you before settling at the pit of your stomach.

╰➤ "Uh," You swallow, shifting your weight. "I'm almost done. Then you can use it."

╰➤ She doesn't say anything else.

╰➤ Her lack of silence sparks a wave of nerves. Next thing you know, you're gesturing towards the microwave wordlessly.

╰➤ She follows the motion, eyebrows quirking up with interest.

╰➤ "I'm having lasagna for lunch," You announce. "This is my third time having to warm it up. I forgot how stubborn pasta can be in a microwave." Then you're patting the top of the rectangular miniature oven.

╰➤ You almost allow yourself to think that her expression has morphed into amusement. But before you get carried away with your thoughts, a loud ding! sounds.

╰➤ Quickly, you open the microwave door, carefully reaching for your steaming tupperware container so that you don't burn yourself.

╰➤ "Well, it's all yours!" You don't have the courage to meet her gaze anymore, finding more interest in the carpet as you leave the room and make a beeline straight to your office.

╰➤ Interactions after that are somewhat similar. Sometimes, she asks, "How've you been?" If the wait to use the microwave is longer than usual.

╰➤ The conversations are more surface level than anything—a routine song and dance to fill up silence for the sake of politeness.

╰➤ They're strings of, "The weathers been nice lately" and, "What are you eating today?" and, "How's the workload been for you?"

╰➤ Then you both are scurrying off to your own little sanctuaries, not planning to see each other until the next business day.

╰➤ There's another time when you're late to going on break. You usually like to be one of the first ones to clock out and heat up your food. There's only one working microwave because your boss is too cheap to replace the second one (that has been broken for several months now), which causes a long line to form for those wanting to warm up their home lunches.

╰➤ Unfortunately, today is the day where you have to join the majority and step in line. Due to a phone call that lasted longer than you expected, you don't end up going to lunch until 15 minutes later than you usually do.

╰➤ You're softly rocking on your heels when Sevika comes into view. She rounds the corner of the office, stalking towards the line with taut muscles and a grinding jaw. An air of annoyance lingers around her, eyes unfocused and seemingly far away, hands—

╰➤ "Are you gonna step forward?" Shane, a co-coworker, asks. He appears disgruntled, pointing at the gap of space in front of you.

╰➤ That seems to gain Sevika's attention. She peers at Shane shortly before dragging her piercing stare towards you.

╰➤ Shane huffs at your silence.

╰➤ "Oh, right!" You breathe, breaking away from Sevika's regard. "Uh, sorry."

╰➤ Taking a few steps forward, you close the distance, doing your best to ignore Shane's rant about "dillydallying workers."

╰➤ A few moments pass before that familiar image of Sevika's grey eyes resurface in your brain. Glancing back towards her, you find her scuffing the heel of her dress boots against the carpet, attention set on no particular thing. She jumps between the carpet, to the gossiping co-workers nearby, to the flickering ceiling lights.

╰➤ Just when you're about to turn back around, she glances towards you. Your gut pulls, ears rushing with adrenaline and veins buzzing.

╰➤ Then, she mouths, "Hi," and you almost combust right then. Gone is the frustrated expression that was adorning her features moments before. Instead, a ghost of a smile plays on her lips.

╰➤ You blink a few times; stunned.

╰➤ You think you wave back at her, but you can't seem to be entirely in touch with whatever your body is doing.

╰➤ "Um, hey." You reply, clearing your throat.

╰➤ It's loud enough for her to hear. But it also may have been too loud. A few other people surrounding you look over in confusion.

╰➤ "Were you talking to me?" Brian, a colleague who's standing right in front of Sevika, asks.

╰➤ You bite the inside of your cheek. "Oh—uh, no. Sorry."

╰➤ Brian looks around, not so subtly, probably trying to find out who the hell your greeting was directed to.

╰➤ Sevika laughs at the interaction. It's the kind of laugh where she presses her lips together, shoulders shaking and eyes dancing with humor. She's trying to be polite—trying to contain her laughter—but she's not doing a very good job.

╰➤ The sight causes you to shuffle your feet in embarrassment, blowing a raspberry.

╰➤ "Look, I've only got twenty minutes of my lunch break left so if you aren't gonna pay attention..." Shane admonishes, voice thin. He's gesturing to the growing gap in front of you again, clearly fed up with your lack of wherewithal.

╰➤ You bite the inside of your cheek, choosing to ignore the way that Sevika seems to be laughing harder now. Fighting off a giggle of your own becomes difficult.

╰➤ "Okay." You reply. Then you face forward, catching up with the rest of the line. "Sorry."

╰➤ The next time you see Sevika, it's when you run into her before a staff meeting.

╰➤ Literally.

╰➤ You aren't paying attention, too busy with shuffling through your purse for a granola bar, eyes downcast and head hung low, when you walk straight into her.

╰➤ Her body is firm, your forehead knocking against the rounded muscle of her shoulder. Your breath catches, eyes widening as you try to glance up, struggling to regain your bearings.

╰➤ Strong hands grab onto your upper arms. The feeling of thumbs pressing into your skin jolts you awake from the daze you've been experiencing all day. And like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel yourself hovering closer—drunk off of the delicious air that surrounds you.

╰➤ Sevika's air.

╰➤ "Oh," You huff, blinking up at her with wide eyes. In the back of your brain, you register the feeling of her large hands encircling your biceps. It's a feeling you welcome. But it becomes faint when you realize the reality of the situation. "I'm so sorry," You spit out, remorse crashing into you. "Fuck—I mean...frick." A startled laugh escapes you. "Frick because fuck is totally not work appropriate...obviously."

╰➤ You swallow thickly. Your legs tremble, an undeniable pressure sprouting in your gut under the feeling of Sevika's pressing gaze. Her stormy grey eyes examine you with interest. It leaves your mind clouded over with impure thoughts—unprofessional thoughts.

╰➤ "I wasn't looking." You add.

╰➤ "Clearly." Sevika's sporting a shit eating grin. Her hands squeeze your biceps. "You good?"

╰➤ "I'm good. Just—" You clear your throat. "Well, I was actually looking for a granola bar. I forgot to take a lunch break because I'm drowning in paperwork. And then Cam announced the meeting at the last minute so I thought I could get a quick bite on the way. Except I'm pretty sure I've somehow lost my granola bar which is just my luck. And-"

╰➤ Sevika's eyebrows are raised so high that they almost meet her hairline. "I see," She mutters, sounding impassive.

╰➤ Fuck.

╰➤ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

╰➤ Maybe you're talking a bit too much—a habit you've been trying to break lately—but it's only because Sevika makes you nervous.

╰➤ It goes beyond her demeanor that screams, "I don't like people so respectfully, leave me the fuck alone."

╰➤ Sevika is your work crush. She's gorgeous and good at meeting the weekly stats, and smells good.

╰➤ Despite the office rumors of her unapproachability and death glares, she's not entirely awful in your presence. She's pretty cordial with you in fact. Which means, she doesn't dislike you as much as she probably does the others.

╰➤ After all, she always lets you use the microwave before her. And she doesn't make you feel completely useless when you tell her a cringey joke, or make an embarrassing attempt to strike up conversation.

╰➤ But now, you've opened your mouth.

╰➤ You've opened your fucking mouth and have probably turned her off before she could even get a chance to truly know you.

╰➤ You've fumbled.

╰➤ The realization embarrasses you.

╰➤ "Yeah," You respond. The both of you fall silent and you imagine a static screen being displayed on a person's TV somewhere in the world. That's the perfect personification of this moment, you think.

╰➤ Sevika hums, letting her hands fall back to her sides. Then she's stepping back, slightly faltering and looking down at the space between you both. You follow her gaze, eyes widening at the sight of fingers gripping the hem of her shirt. Your fingers.

╰➤ "Oh! Sorry," You repeat. You tug your hands away, breath catching in your throat. "This is—" Your lips pinch together.

╰➤ God, this is embarrassing.

╰➤ Clearly scandalized, you tread a few paces backward.

╰➤ "Um, actually, I should go pee! I haven't had a chance yet, w-with the workflow and all. Especially now that the staff meeting starts soon," Your thumb juts in a general direction of the restroom behind you. "Gotta hate those bladder infections, am I right?" Pathetically, you force out a laugh.

╰➤ Humor trickles onto Sevika's features. Her lip twitches. "Right..."

╰➤ "Not that I have a bladder infection right now! I'm preventing one by going to the bathroom. My bladder is perfectly fine." One of the straps of your purse falls off your shoulder. You readjust it. "...Not that you care, or like, anything."

╰➤ A pause bleeds into the atmosphere. Slight chatter travels from a few offices down. People emerge from their desk, hastily making their way to the conference room behind Sevika. You struggle to ignore the sound of tapping keyboards and squeaking chairs. The lull is excruciating.

╰➤ "Okay, well–" You force a cough. "I'll go now. Catch you later, Sevika." You almost allow yourself to believe that her eyes widen when you say her name.

╰➤ But then you're turning on your heels and scurrying away, discarding the ridiculous notion.

╰➤ It's the next day when you run into her again. There you are, standing in front of the microwave, when you hear chuckling. It's easy for you to know it's hers. You find yourself savoring the sound every time it leaves her lips.

╰➤ A smile stretches across your face, and you peer over your shoulder, eyes landing on her for the first time that day. Sevika's wearing a white long-sleeve undershirt, partially covered with a black sweater vest and beige slacks. She has her hair styled in a half-up, half down. She's fiddling with a gold plated watch on her wrist, expression smug and eyes regarding the person beside her.

╰➤ The microwave beeps; a sign that it's time for you to retrieve your lunch and head back to your office. But your eyes can't help but linger on the stranger beside Sevika.

╰➤ Well, they're not really a stranger. Their name is Kai. You don't know Kai personally. You just know of them. They work in the warehouse, so you only see them during the times that all departments are required to attend the staff meetings.

╰➤ Occasionally, you may see Kai if they visit one of their friends that work on the same floor as you. They have chestnut brown eyes and a badass sleeve that covers their entire right arm. But besides that, they’re a complete stranger.

╰➤ "Smells good," Kai announces, turning to you. There's a glint in their eyes as they gaze at you, and that makes you feel exposed for some reason. You can't understand why or even how.

╰➤ Then, your attention diverts to the way that Kai’s fingers dance along the cuff of Sevika's sleeve. They trail up the material, alongside Sevika's forearm, before pulling away. It's the smallest gesture—something a general onlooker wouldn't notice without staring incredibly hard—but you noticed. You wish you hadn't.

╰➤ "Thanks," You mumble.

╰➤ You turn around, swallow, blink, and open the microwave door. You ignore the burning of the tupperware container against your skin, trying to shut out the pounding of your heart.

╰➤ "Hey," Sevika greets, the quietest she ever has.

╰➤ It's harder for you to meet her eyes in that moment. You're distracted by Kai’s swaying, and how it's perfectly on beat with the music that echoes through the office speakers; how they’re majestically relaxed in a way that you never can be.

╰➤ You don't understand why such strong feelings surge through you; feelings of envy and doom and a hint of jealousy. It doesn't make sense. It isn't logical. But it's there. It's annoyingly there.

╰➤ "You're the one who just got promoted to be Cam's assistant, right?" Kai asks. You stop in your tracks, halfway between the microwave and them. A wave of shock washes over you. You never thought they ever noticed you.

╰➤ "Um, yeah. It's not really a promotion, though..."

╰➤ "No?" Kai glances at Sevika out of the corner of their eye. "Vika said so. She's mentioned it a few times, actually."

╰➤ That's when you find the courage to glance over to Sevika. Her cloudy grey eyes observe the floor, jaw grinding and hands shoved into her pockets. Sevika knows your job title?

╰➤ It feels ridiculous to be excited over such a revelation. After all, you and Sevika work in the same fucking building. How can she not know what you do?

╰➤ But there are countless coworkers in surrounding cubicles who never catch your attention; people you've never talked to. People who would never know that your office resided within walking distance from them. And the notion is the same for you when you find yourself surrounded by unfamiliar faces on days you stray too far from your office.

╰➤ But Sevika knows. She pays attention. Whether that's a good or bad thing, you allow your heart to savor the thought.

╰➤ "Oh," You mumble, swallowing thickly. Suddenly, the thought of Kai’s close proximity to Sevika doesn't seem so bad.

╰➤ "Well, anyways, there's a clerk position opening up and I may have interest in it. Kinda wanna be a corporate person now, you know?" Kai grins, laughing lightly. You smile in return. "If I land the job, maybe you can help me get adjusted to office life? Show me the ropes a little. Vika says you're the best one on the sales team."

╰➤ Vika says you're the best one on the sales team.

╰➤ Vika says you're the best.

╰➤ Sevika's head lifts, rolling her eyes as she nudges Kai with her elbow. Kai yelps then coughs seconds after. 

╰➤ "I just do what's in my job description." You bashfully admit.

╰➤ Kai’s grin widens. “Right…” Their words are slow and heavy with an unspoken implication.

╰➤ Their gaze shifts to Sevika, then you, then Sevika, and back to you again. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and you find yourself feeling self conscious; it feels like they know something about you that you don't want them to.

╰➤ “I’m just gonna squeeze by really quick,” Kai announces.

╰➤ You side step, allowing them to head towards the vending machines. You make the mistake of not being spatially aware, moving over a bit too far and knocking into the table positioned to your right. 

╰➤ "You okay?"

╰➤ Your eyebrows furrow at Sevika's question—at her concern. The way her gaze flickers between you and the table has your stomach tugging. Your fingers tighten around your tupperware container.

╰➤ "Just clumsy," You explain, nodding at her. "Which you probably already, uh, know."

╰➤ Your memory travels back to the day before, and how you ran right into her.

╰➤ You're not sure you'll ever be able to forget something so embarrassing.

╰➤ Sevika smiles and you realize that it's the most genuine thing you've seen all day. "Oh," She says knowingly. "I do."

╰➤ She's teasing you but you don't mind it. You couldn't even if you tried because you're too caught up in how breathtakingly handsome she is. The intricate details of Sevika's smile always has a powerful effect on you.

╰➤ She has the tiniest dimples in her chin, puffy dark lips gorgeously contrasting to the whites of her teeth. And her gap—goodness, that gap has you wanting to curl up into a ball and melt away. It's placed right between her two front teeth.

╰➤ You hold your tupperware container tighter against the lower pouch of your belly, feet rocking forwards and backwards, head swimming from Sevika's presence. She has you completely gone for her. A proper crush—and surely, due to the current circumstances of being coworkers—a rather inappropriate crush too.

╰➤ "You know," You find yourself saying. "I just realized...I've never actually introduced myself to you."

╰➤ Sevika straightens, eyes flashing with that familiar light of humor. "You're right. You haven't," She clicks her tongue. "How rude."

╰➤ Your skin prickles, "I'm the rude one?"

╰➤ "Are you insinuating otherwise?"

╰➤ "Yes." You nod, trying to erase your smile. Your cheeks are starting to ache. "Did it not take you two months to say more than just Hi to me?"

╰➤ "Not true." She clears her throat. "Sometimes, I would say hey instead."

╰➤ Your jaw drops and silence fills the room.

╰➤ And then you're laughing. It's the type of giggle that bubbles over with an emotion similar to returning home. Your cheeks ache and so does your stomach; your vision momentarily blurs from the action of squinting. Sevika joins you with her own laughter but hers is more beautiful. It's like the soft breeze of the wind on a spring morning. You'd try to make her laugh forever if you really could.

╰➤ Soon you're exhaling softly, features relaxing as you glance towards her. "I'm sure you already know who I am, and what I do here. But, for formality reasons..." You begin. It feels weird to introduce yourself to her, especially after seeing her nearly everyday for the last four months. After all, it seems like she knows enough to have already talked about you to Kai. But it makes you feel better to do it this way. You give her your name personally and shake her hand.

╰➤ A proper introduction.

╰➤ Sevika repeats your name under her breath, trying it out for herself. The sound of it causes your toes to curl inside of your shoes. When she shakes your hand, you take note of how large her fingers are compared to yours. One of her hands could engulf the both of yours without any effort. And her skin is warm and calloused. Despite the rough exterior, she touches you with such fragility that you have to glance down for a second. It's almost as if she's afraid of breaking you.

╰➤ But then the moment is over. Kai returns, this time with two bags of Doritos in their hands. They throw one at Sevika, and thanks to Sevika’s fast reflexes, it’s caught without a single flinch. 

╰➤ “This should hold us over until Leah clocks out.” Kai sighs. “She wants to go to Famous Dave’s again and I’m kinda in the mood for like, anything other than that. Like I can only eat a certain amount of that stuff before I start suffering from a serious case of heartburn.”

╰➤ Sevika scrunches her nose, popping a chip into her mouth. “Then tell her that.”

╰➤ “I can't,” The whine of Kai’s voice becomes oddly endearing. “You know how she gets.”

╰➤ “Then don’t tell her.”

╰➤ “Or maybe you can tell her. She listens to you.”

╰➤ Sevika rolls her eyes. “No.”

╰➤ “Why not…”

╰➤”Kai, just talk to her. It’s literally not that hard.”

╰➤ “...That’s what she said.”

╰➤ You marvel at the way that Sevika stops mid-chew, gaze still downturned at the red bag in her hand before muttering, “Hilarious.”

╰➤ You try to wipe the growing grin off of your face as you bite the inside of your cheek. Kai glances at you once more, eyes sparkling a gorgeous brown. “Do you want to join us? We’re catching dinner at Famous Dave’s.”

╰➤ Your jaw falls slack, shock hitting you like a ton of bricks. “Oh.” You respond. A breathless laugh leaves you. “Um…”

╰➤ “It’ll just be me, Leah and Vika. Do you know Leah? She’s in accounting. Kinda tall, lanky…socially awkward with bright purple hair?”

 ╰➤ The description doesn't ring any bells for you. “Uh, no. I don't think I’ve seen her around yet.”

╰➤ “Understandable. She works all the way up on the 8th floor.” Kai tilts their head, regarding you with a warmth you aren't used to receiving from anyone in this building besides Sevika and your boss. “Anyways, the offer still stands?”

╰➤ That’s when Sevika glances up at you through her lashes. She doesn’t necessarily crack a smile, but a corner of her lip has curved into something subtle. 

╰➤ “I wish. But I’m working overtime to help Cam with our pitch tomorrow.” You attempt to ignore the way your heart deflates as you say this. 

╰➤”Aw, man.” Kai tosses their empty Dorito bag into a nearby trash can. 

╰➤ "But we should definitely plan something soon.” Before you do anything stupid, like flaking on Cam last minute just to meet up with coworkers for dinner, you urge yourself to bid them goodbye. “I'll catch you guys another time, alright?" 

╰➤ "Nice meeting you!” Kai calls. A short hiss escapes the bottle in their hand as they twist off the cap and tilt their head back. It's a diet coke.

╰➤ "You too!”

╰➤ It's awkward when you slip past them both, proximity dangerously close to Sevika. You find the courage to whisper, “Later Vika,” to her at the last second.

╰➤ Her body stiffens and it almost sounds like she chokes while swallowing another mouthful of her chips. It’s probably the least collected display of behavior you’ve ever witnessed from her. 

╰➤ You stifle a laugh, brushing past her and towards the direction of your office. 

╰➤ You feel really fucking sad today.

╰➤ Days like today are days that you dread. It isn't a result of anything particular. Of course, you want to be able to blame an event or cause. But the truth of the matter is that you're just having a really bad mental health day.

╰➤ It first starts off with you waking up late. You never wake up late. Your mornings are pretty routine. Some may call them mundane, but routine helps you get through the day easier. So when your alarm doesn't sound and you wake after a bad dream, realizing that it's 30 minutes past the time that your alarm usually rings, your heart sinks.

╰➤ You don't have time for a full breakfast. You have to settle for toast and orange juice instead, slipping on the cleanest pair of jeans and shirt that you can find. When you make it to work, you're just on time. But everything is off.

╰➤ Because instead of your usual business casual attire, you're sporting faded jeans, a blank t shirt and beat up sneakers. Your muscles are still sluggish and your eyelids are heavy. So far, the morning isn't great.

╰➤ As time passes, you realize that you're quite ahead in your work. Cam is off for the day, which means you don't have any extra errands or tasks to do for him. There is truly not much left to accomplish.

╰➤ You settle on the mission of clearing out your voicemail box. But that's soon completed. Your latest emails are nothing of importance and you don't have any upcoming meetings to attend. A cloud of doom hovers over you. By 11 AM, it doubles in size. Once noon hits, it's time for your lunch break and a sorrowful cloud clings onto you like a leech.

╰➤ It's hard to gain a semblance of what to do next. Your heart's true desire calls for your bed and a long restful sleep. Your chest seizes with dull aches and your mind swarms with everything yet nothing at all. This is a familiar feeling that you always hate. It's hard to prevent days like this. It always creeps up on you before you can find the strength to prevent it.

╰➤ You're nearly 30 minutes late to taking your lunch today. You've packed a deli sandwich with grapes, pretzels and a bag of potato chips. But none of it is appealing. And for the first time in months, it's a cold lunch—which you don't usually prefer.

╰➤ Your legs take you to the break room. It's almost empty, with only the buzz of a few coworkers trailing in and out. You sit at one of the tables in the corner, sighing softly and staring down at your lunch.

╰➤ You aren't hungry. Whenever the rare days like today hit you—days when your appetite for life fades—a dwindling appetite for food soon follows. But if you don't eat, then you'll later find yourself crouched in your bed with aching temples, fighting off the pains of a skipped meal. So you open the tupperware container that has a handful of green grapes and take a few bites.

╰➤ There's something about working in an office environment that you enjoy. It's mostly independent-driven, which you prefer. You don't mind the quiet solace that comes along with being in your own office, surrounded by towers of paperwork and due dates. The system of doing the same tasks throughout the day—of working through the same checklists—always leaves you feeling at ease.

╰➤ Even the soft rings of telephones and fingers typing against keys provides you the same comfort that brown noise does for other individuals. Everything about your job is monotonous and ordinary, and therefore absolutely perfect.

╰➤ Your shoulders soon relax as you eavesdrop on a conversation between two coworkers huddled together on the other side of the break room. It's silly workplace gossip about other folks that you don't know, but for the sake of people watching, you allow yourself to become preoccupied with the way they interact with one another.

╰➤ Both of the girls are dressed in fashionable attire, with sleek knee high boots and pencils skirts. Their faces are painted with spotless makeup, nails freshly manicured and eyebrows perfectly arched. Your gaze travels back to your faded old jeans and dirty white New Balance sneakers.

╰➤ Sighing, you tug on the soft hem of your crew neck sweater, which you've thrown on due to the chilly air of the building. That's when a chair beside you squeaks. The legs are dragging against the tile floor due to someone pulling it out and sitting on it.

╰➤ You're met with the familiar features of Sevika. Her hair is pulled back into a perfectly sleek low-bun. There's a slight hint of mascara and eyeliner, barely noticeable if you hadn't already seen her on the days where she's bare faced. She smells of everything good; the walking embodiment of heaven.

╰➤ And she looks just as nice as she smells, with her beige button up and black slacks and matching black dress boots. She looks expensive. She always does.

╰➤ You blink, not only taken aback by her beauty, but also by her sudden presence. Isn't her lunch break supposed to be over by now?

╰➤ "Hi." She greets, which is nothing more than a murmur.

╰➤ Sevika has a very distinct way of communicating. Her lips move so fast that sometimes, you aren't sure if she's truly speaking or if it's all just your overactive imagination. She doesn't talk much, but when she does, it's intentional. You know that every word she does say is meant to be said. And you appreciate that trait about her.

╰➤ She's not the type to raise her voice. Out of all the encounters you've had with her, there's never been a time when she's even gotten remotely close to losing her composure. But a part of you is not sure if composure is the right word. Sevika just seems to be naturally indifferent; mellow. Constantly unbothered. That's what draws you to her. And that's why you feel a dose of comfort shoot through you at that moment. Her presence will probably always be welcomed, no matter what mood you're in.

╰➤ You give her a small smile in return before popping another grape into your mouth.

╰➤ She hovers for a bit. You're not sure what to say, or even if you should say something. 

╰➤ "Not using the microwave today?" She adds.

╰➤ You force out a small chuckle. "No."

╰➤ Silence resumes.

╰➤ Her lashes are quite long.

╰➤ She really is beautiful.

╰➤ You glance away from her, absentmindedly playing with the tattered ends of your sleeves. Your left leg is crossed over your right, rocking back and forth out of habit. There's a moment when it lifts a bit too high, knocking into Sevika's shin.

╰➤ You grimace, "I'm sorry."

╰➤ Out of the corner of your eyes, you pick up on the movement of her broad shoulders shrugging. "It's all good."

╰➤ Your rocking resumes. You make sure to angle your body away from her after that; ensuring that you won't accidentally kick her again.

╰➤ Slowly, you nudge your container of grapes towards her, "Would you like some?"

╰➤ She hesitates, "No." Another pause, then, "It doesn't seem like you've eaten much of your lunch today."

╰➤ "I'm not as hungry as I usually am. It's been a rough day."

╰➤ She positions herself to where her elbows lean against the tabletop. It appears that she's inches closer and the smell of her practically overpowers you because of it. "Is it worth talking about?"

╰➤ You peer up at her, eyes widening when you see the dilation of her pupils. Her hands are clasped together, chin resting on her knuckles and grey eyes regarding you with interest. The squaring of her shoulders causes her muscular biceps to bulge through her beige dress-shirt. It's a gorgeous sight.

╰➤ Your heart stutters.

╰➤ "Um," You blink, trying to concentrate despite the ongoing brain fog. "I'm just sad today, Sevika." You swallow thickly, finding yourself inching a little closer with your chin resting on your own hand. "But there's not a particular reason why. It's ridiculous, to be honest. Simply one of those days, you know?"

╰➤ She shifts towards you.

╰➤ Your foot brushes against her calf.

╰➤ A solemn ease envelopes around the both of you as an expression of understanding trickles onto her features. She nods quietly.

╰➤ There's not much to say, or rather, not much that you want her to say. You're grateful that she doesn't make a huge deal of your admission. Sadness lives in every human throughout their life. Just sitting with her is enough to ease the tide waves of grief that has been rolling through you. At that moment, sitting in the break room with Sevika, your sadness somehow finds a way to transform into still water; a sea of tranquility solely from Sevika's presence.

╰➤ She hooks her foot around the leg of your chair, dragging you closer towards her. Your stomach does somersaults and if you weren't so flustered, you'd probably be brave enough to ask her why she's doing this. But instead, you're left trying to stabilize your heart and trembling fingers. You allow yourself to bask in her closeness.

╰➤ "Your sadness isn't ridiculous," Sevika begins, wetting her dark full lips. Her breath smells of peppermint. Your foot grazes against her calf again, this time for a few seconds longer. "I don't know who or what's made you believe that, but it never will be."

╰➤ The shift in her is abrupt; something powerful enough to cause you to gawk at her. With each passing second, all of your worries slowly begin to unspool and relax, because her words ring with unrelenting truth. You know that she 100% believes everything that she's just said. That's enough for you.

╰➤ "And I don't blame you." Sevika adds. "I mean, this job alone is enough to send anyone into a fucking spiral."

╰➤ You laugh for the first time today. Your palms rest against your cheek and your eyes crinkle shut momentarily. Somehow, she makes laughter on even the most difficult days easy. "Oh, I don't know." You respond, after finally calming down. "This place isn't so bad."

╰➤ "Are you sure?" Her eyebrows raise. "I find that very hard to believe."

╰➤ "Well, there are perks. Like the wattage for the microwave here...It's—what—1500? That's way better than the one in my apartment."

╰➤ She rolls her eyes, but you don't miss the way that they flash with amusement. "Sweetheart, no wonder you're depressed. You've turned to microwave usage as a source of entertainment."

╰➤ A giggle escapes you and you squirm in your seat from her teasing.

╰➤ Sweetheart.

╰➤ The pet name echoes in your ears.

╰➤ "There's not much else to be entertained by. The wallpapers here are quite dreadful."

╰➤ She grins, glancing at the wall behind you. "Oddly obsessed with microwaves and picky about interior design. Noted."

╰➤ Your nose scrunches as you fight off another smile, sighing melodramatically.

╰➤ Sevika looks as if she's going to speak again. But then her phone vibrates against the tabletop quietly. She grabs it, peering at the screen before exhaling. "That's my cue." She says with a reticent expression. "My lunch break is up."

╰➤ You feel yourself deflating but you do your best to cover it up, nodding instead. "I should be getting back too."

╰➤ You both stand up, the lingering tension in the atmosphere snapping like an elastic band. Sevika spares you one more look, pocketing her phone and stretching her arms. Her smile is small but the effects of it leaves you feeling disembodied.

╰➤ "See you around, sweetheart." 

╰➤ Then she leaves.

╰➤ You stare at the door in front of you, trying to gain the courage to knock on it.

╰➤ This is ridiculous, really.

╰➤ You're ridiculous.

╰➤ Your palms are sweaty and your heart is beating entirely too fast. You want to turn around and walk back to your own office. You want to forget about ever doing this, or being delusional enough to think that this was a good idea.

╰➤ But you've already gone through the trouble and effort of preparing everything...

╰➤ Plus, numerous coworkers have witnessed you standing in front of this door for quite some time now. Turning around and walking away without even knocking would not only be embarrassing, but also probably attract some negative attention.

╰➤ Sucking in a breath, you raise your free hand, knock three times, then exhale.

╰➤ One second passes and you instantly regret it.

╰➤ You shouldn't have done this.

╰➤ You're sure numerous minutes pass before the door finally swings open—at least it feels that way. Round brown eyes greet you and your heart skips a few beats.

╰➤ You definitely should have thought this through a little more.

╰➤ "Oh, Kai." You breathe. "Hi."

╰➤ “Hey!” Surprise filters onto their features. "What are you doing here? Have you been standing out here for long? Sev—uh, you have…” They disappear behind the door, whispering something indiscreetly. 

╰➤ "I was just stopping by." You shift your weight, growing uneasy. You try to glance past them but it's hard to see considering you're several inches shorter than them. "F-For um, well... I was hoping to speak to Sevika."

╰➤ Kai appears in front of you again, smirking impishly. “...Any minute now, Vika. It’s not like you have someone waiting out here for you or anything.”

╰➤ You swallow. Inconspicuously, you glance around you, hoping that no one is eavesdropping from their cubicles. "I was wanting to give her something. I'm sorry that I interrupted." You rub your palm against your forehead, not knowing where to go from here. "Honestly, it can wait. It's not urgent or anything. It's just a gift. I know we don't usually stop by each other's offices like this so I'm sorry for showing up unexpectedly. I just thought...I don't know. I can come back? Yeah, I'll just come back another time-"

╰➤ "That's not necessary." Sevika appears over the shoulder of Kai. Your chin tilts up in order to meet her gaze, and you take a few steps backwards, clasping your hands behind you. "You weren't interrupting anything." The handsome woman muses, brows raised. You marvel at the way that her eyes glaze over you, up and down, before settling on your face again.

╰➤ Nodding, you allow your attention to flicker to Kai, who is now standing in between the both of you with raised eyebrows. The awkwardness of it all makes you clear your throat, shuffling your feet and wishing you had thought of a better way to do this. Maybe you should haves waited until you saw Sevika again in the break room.

╰➤ "I’ll catch you guys later, okay?” Kai chirps, barely glancing at Sevika as they pocket their phone. They’re practically beaming at the both of you when they step past the door threshold. Then, they disappear behind the rows of cubicles.

╰➤ Your mind reels at everything that's just happened. You struggle to fully understand why the temperature of the central AC suddenly feels like a searing heat wave. 

╰➤ When you peek over at Sevika, you find that she's already observing you. Her two front teeth sink into the plump flesh of her lower lip, eyes a darker shade of grey and swarming with undeniable heed. You can't help but admire her lips and how they appear to be perfectly crafted. They look softer than a billow of feathers, and you desperately want to touch them—want to feel them—and want to allow them to sweep you up into another world.

╰➤ That hunger inside of you grows, a specific feeling that she's only been able to bring out lately, and you know that no one can ever satiate such a desire but her.

╰➤ God.

╰➤ You've got it bad.

╰➤ She releases her lip and you become enamored with the way her throat jostles as she swallows. Painfully aware of your obvious staring, you force your attention back to her eyes.

╰➤ "I've got something for you," You say. Your voice is unfamiliar to your ears—huskier.

╰➤ Silently, she gestures for you to come in. You step forward and close the door behind you.

╰➤ Sevika's office is similar to yours. The desk and chair are quite the same, along with the filing cabinets and additional chairs for guests. But she also has a dark purple rug, with numerous framed pictures and a mini fridge shoved in the corner.

╰➤ A pair of dark purple curtains are drawn, allowing the sunlight to creep in, and more picture frames line the windowsill.

╰➤ Before you allow yourself to get too swept up with your surroundings, you turn to her and pull your left hand out from behind you, which holds a card. It's a simple blank one that you bought at the store and it has the words thank you written with one of your favorite sparkly ink pens, along with your signed name and lip print stained by your favorite lipstick shade. Above the personalized message are a few pairs of pressed tulips.

╰➤ "I just wanted to express my gratitude." You explain. She takes the card, staring down at it silently. "I was feeling a bit down the other day and you helped me by keeping me company. It may sound silly because it was just a simple conversation but," You shrug. "Conversation goes a long way sometimes. Especially for those that need it."

╰➤ Her thumb traces over one of the petals, lips parting and eyes widening. It's hard to know exactly what she's thinking and a part of you believes that maybe you've overstepped—that you've crossed an unspoken boundary. Her ongoing silence causes an unexpected panic to stir within you.

╰➤ Desperate to clean up a situation that you fear will go haywire, you open your mouth to say, "These are from a small garden that I’ve been trying to grow." Your forefinger hovers above her thumb, gesturing towards the flowers. "I pressed them myself, so that they won't die on you." You lick your lips, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden. Oh god. Why does she look like that? Why isn't she saying anything? This can't be good. "And I...well, now that I'm thinking about this, I'm realizing that this may be coming off as weird. I'm sorry. If I've made you like...uncomfy or anything, I totally understand and I'm sorry. My intention wasn't to make things weird."

╰➤ Her head raises at that, expression completely unguarded. It's rare when you're able to see unfiltered emotions flitting across her features. Sevika isn't the type to walk around with her heart on her sleeve. But with the way that she's looking at you, you realize that there's something unbelievably tender about her gaze.

╰➤ "And you'll probably tease me for this," You continue. You curse yourself for sounding breathless. Tearing your eyes away from her, you point at the card again. "But I used my microwave to press the flowers. Only because the other methods would have taken too long."

╰➤ That's when she laughs.

╰➤ You exhale softly from her hearty chuckles, relief immediately enveloping you.

╰➤ Laughter is a good sign.

╰➤ "I should have maybe waited to give you the card. I just didn't want to anticipate your reaction until noon, if I'm being honest." You wring out your hands, not able to shake the nervous jitters running through you. "I hope you like it."

╰➤ She runs her thumb over the material once more, lips rolling inwards before she rubs them together, deep in thought. You impatiently wait for a sign, any sign, that indicates her feelings towards your gesture.

╰➤ Her eyes, set deep above the plane of her cheekbones, slant as they peer downward towards the cardboard in her hand. She inhales through her nose, relaxes her lips, then exhales.

╰➤ "You didn't have to do this," She finally replies. "But of course I like it." She doesn't smile. However, you do notice a new light in her expression when she refocuses her attention on you. "Also, you apologize a lot." She pauses before adding, "...More than you need to. You haven't done anything weird at all."

╰➤ You want to bury your face in a pillow and squeal. But you settle for a smile instead. "Oh."

╰➤ Her lips crack into a knowing grin before she turns on her heel and walks over to her desk. She delicately positions the card so that it's standing upright next to a picture of her and a skinny brunette man. "The card is beautiful." She observes. Despite the natural raspiness of her voice, it has a warmer lilt to it now. "Thank you."

╰➤ You determine that Sevika thanking you is a new favorite. You want to shower her with endless gestures if it means that she'll continue to show fondness towards you.

╰➤ She leans against her desk, halfway sitting on the top surface, before shoving her hands in her pockets. Through the material of her slacks, you notice that they seem to be balled into fists.

╰➤You shift your weight as a strong sense of pride swells in your chest, opting to rest your shoulder against the door frame.

╰➤Only—you remember too late that nothing is actually beside you, and that the door frame is several paces behind you. Instead, you stumble when you realize that there's nothing close enough to catch your weight.

╰➤ Your arms sprout out in an attempt to catch your balance.

╰➤ "Um," You mumble dumbly, flustered by the mess that you've become. "...Thought there was a wall beside me." You clear your throat, attempting to right yourself again. 

╰➤ Sevika stares at you, eyes dancing with merriment, as she struggles to swallow her chuckles. She forces out a few coughs, trying to cover up her mirth, but it's clear that she finds your lack of coordination entertaining.

╰➤ You rest your hands on your hips in an attempt to find a comfortable standing position. You want to cringe. You want to crawl under a rock and never be perceived again.

╰➤ You puff out your cheeks before blowing out a heavy exhale. The room feels really hot and your heart is doing backflips in your chest. You can't tell if it's because of your stupid schoolgirl crush or the embarrassment of nearly eating shit in front of Sevika.

╰➤ Probably a combination of both...

╰➤ "Gravity really hates me." You jest.

╰➤ Her grin widens. "I can tell."

╰➤ You let out an exasperated chuckle, palm reaching up to rub against your forehead. She has to be aware of her effect on you.

╰➤ Like it's just painfully obvious at this point.

╰➤ Right?

╰➤ Your lips part and your hands pool with more sweat and you feel like the biggest lovesick loser to ever exist. There she is, with her perfect face and perfect laugh and perfect everything. You've barely talked to this woman outside of lunch breaks yet here you are, giving her pressed fucking flowers and worshiping the ground she walks on just because she sat with you for a few minutes. There can't be any other way that you can become more obvious.

╰➤ Your hands are flailing ridiculously around you, towards her plush purple carpet and curtains and picture frames before you're saying, "Nice office by the way."

╰➤ And she's looking at you with that knowing expression that's borderline condescending, which you really love despite how much you want to hate it, when she replies, "Thanks, darling."

╰➤ You blink rapidly and try not to combust right then.

╰➤ Your feet carry you to a nearby bookshelf before you can think otherwise. A shitload of CD’s are neatly stacked on them with names of artists you didn't know anyone still listened to. You preoccupy yourself with shifting through them, trying your best to ignore the zoo erupting in your stomach. There’s collections of Nina Simone and Freddie Hubbard and Bill Withers. Your eyebrows raise at the eclectic catalogue, not bothering to swallow the surprise that sprouts within you. It should be known at this point that Sevika will never fail to surprise you.

╰➤ Your hands tremble as they hold an ABBA CD. They cling tighter to the plastic case, attempting to make the shaking less noticeable. Something warm brushes against your shoulder, before taking the CD from you. You peer at Sevika, observing the way that she wordlessly takes out the disc and moves to a CD player that is situated farther to your left. 

╰➤ Despite her being concentrated on getting the speaker system to work, you’re totally enraptured by her. Her smell surrounds you like a cloud of ecstasy. Her hair is down today, a feathery cut that stops just below her jaw. Loose ends are tucked behind her ear, highlighting the rarest features of her face that you probably have overlooked before. Her lips purse together while she deeply concentrates, puffing out in a way that makes them look unbelievably inviting. Your breath catches, a prominent ache building between your thighs as the room fills with the beginning chords of The Winner Takes It All.

╰➤ She hums underneath her breath as the first verse begins, neatly placing the CD on top of the player. Slowly, her eyes drag back to you, unfocused and clearly lost in the music that fills the room. But then she freezes, seemingly not expecting you to already be observing her. The harmonies of the song contrast to the moment of stillness then; a corded tension falling between the two of you. 

╰➤ The feelings you have in that moment are visceral. Your head is spinning and your heart is racing. No matter how hard you swallow, your throat remains dry and your skin yearns for her—for her touch and her warmth and her firmness. 

╰➤ Your eyes burn and you have to blink rapidly in order to clear your vision. You can't understand why these feelings have hit you so suddenly, and why they're so intense for a woman that's only your coworker. But you try not to scold yourself too much, rubbing your palms against the material of your skirt instead.

╰➤ “What’s wrong?” She whispers, scanning your face.

╰➤ And that's when you realize how close you're standing to her. Maybe you were the one to step forward—or was it her?—and shorten the distance, but you can't know for sure. You should pull away. You should bid her a good day and return to your office (you'll have to be on the clock soon anyways) but you can't.

╰➤ You can't because it's too late. She’s already roped you in with her aloofness and cheshire grin and warm sultry voice. The window to escape has already passed. You're simply in too deep now.

╰➤ “You're just really fucking beautiful.” You blurt out. 

╰➤ When Sevika registers what you've said, it seems like she stiffens in shock. Her lips part, a sharp breath being sucked in while her stare intensifies. 

╰➤ You don't have enough wits to properly downplay your words or try to retract what you've said. The most you try to do is blink away the tears in your welling eyes and say, “I’m sorry.”

╰➤ You take a step back, then two. The reality of the situation hits you like a brick wall. You let out a heavy exhale, trying to calm the storm beginning to brew in your mind.

╰➤ Holy fuck.

╰➤ What if you’ve made her uncomfortable? You've clearly crossed a line. You're at work. In fifteen minutes, you’ll both be on the clock and trying to get your day started. This is inappropriate. 

╰➤ You feel like employees from the Human Resources department will barge right in at any moment, confronting you about your intentions and hauling you off to be questioned. Guilt rumbles in you like an unrelenting river breaking through a dam.  

╰➤ Sevika is shaking her head, eyes searching yours with growing alarm. “Sorry? Sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry fo-”

╰➤ “...with the flowers and the card and calling you beautiful. I shouldn't be doing those things and saying stuff like that. I mean, not because I don't think you're beautiful. You're so beautiful. It's just... Oh lord—I’m doing it again. Fuck. Frick. Uh,” You gulp, taking a few more steps backwards. “I just don't want to make you uncomfortable. I'm totally aware that we’re coworkers. And I don't wanna be that one creep in the office who-”

╰➤ “No, it's okay.” She shakes her head again, a small smile appearing on her face. “You haven't weirded me out at all.”

╰➤ You stop mid rant, mouth hanging open and eyes trailing back to her. “Are you sure?”

╰➤ “Completely sure.” 

╰➤ Your attention hooks onto the details of her laugh lines. They become more prevalent as her smile widens. You want to brush your lips against hers and feel the curve of her laugh lines against your skin. 

╰➤ You fight the urge, responding with, “Okay,” instead. 

╰➤ She hums quietly underneath her breath, arms folding against her chest. 

╰➤ “Okay,” She echoes. Her weight rocks backwards, a slight sway that causes her hair to brush lightly against her jawline. You're captivated by the sharp edge of her jaw—and how it seems to become even sharper with each passing second—as she momentarily clenches it. 

╰➤ She’s opening her mouth to say something else when there's a knock on the door. “Sevika?” The silhouette of a woman, probably a coworker, shines through the frosted-glass door. Reality slams into you like a semi truck.

╰➤ Your heart jumps at the interruption. For some reason, you take a few more steps away from Sevika and your muscles tense.

╰➤ There's a hesitation that looms in the air. 

╰➤ Sevika's eyes hold something undefinable. Her gaze is level and full of intent. And you can't understand why everything feels so convoluted right now.

╰➤ After a few agonizing seconds of silence, she sighs, shoulders falling as she shifts her attention to the ground. “Come in.” 

╰➤ The door opens and a pretty brunette with glossy lips and mascara-coated eyes walks in. You've seen her numerous times throughout the day. She's one of the receptionists. 

╰➤ She smiles at you and you're surprised when she greets you. You’ve never realized she knows your name. 

╰➤ “Tara,” Sevika addresses. “What's up?”

╰➤ The receptionist turns to her, “I was trying to call you but it was going to voicemail. I wasn't sure if you’ve turned on your phone for the day? I’m really sorry for interrupting. But you have a gentleman waiting for you in the lobby, he says he has an 8 o’clock with you? I just wanted to confirm.” She clears her throat, shifting her weight awkwardly. Then she’s eying you again with a small smile. “I’m sorry—”

╰➤ “No, no. You're totally fine.” Sevika’s features morph into an expression that's more genial. “Did you catch his name? I do think I have an 8 o’clock, I just lost track of time.” She’s making her way over to the CD player, swiftly cutting it off. The music stops and the air stills.

╰➤ Hair stands on your skin as she walks to her desk, fiddling with a few buttons on her landline. 

╰➤ “Yes,” Tara replies, glancing down at a yellow sticky note. “He’s from the branch in Chicago. He goes by…”

╰➤ “I’ll catch you later, Sevika.”Your voice is rushed and barely above a whisper. The feeling of overstaying your welcome floods you.

╰➤ Sevika glances up under her lashes, hands faltering from the paperwork she's rummaging through. You don't give her a chance to reply, simply shooting her a smile and wave before slipping out of her office. 

╰➤  You sigh at the sign in front of you, bold words reading, BROKEN! PLEASE USE ANOTHER ONE on a piece of paper attached to the microwave. A low groan burns in the back of your throat. You’re starving. In fact, it’s been forever since you’ve let yourself grow this hungry.

╰➤ You didn't eat breakfast this morning. You were too preoccupied with thinking about Sevika’s gift, and how the hell were you going to give her a card with pressed flowers in a non-creepy way. But the task has been done, and for the most part, Sevika didn’t appear turned off by your gesture. So now, you are hungry. 

╰➤  Your stomach growls and your mouth pools with saliva. Spinning on your heels, you march out of the break room, trying to think of any other parts of the building that has microwaves. Your floor definitely doesn’t, which means you would have to take the elevator. And you don’t want to do that, especially if it means having to walk through another department. 

╰➤  Your mind is swarming with what ifs and maybe’s as you travel through rows of cubicles. The possibility of finding an unoccupied microwave is slim to none. If the one on your floor has been broken all morning, then there’s surely a growing line at the other ones. Dread gnaws at you and you huff with distaste. 

╰➤  There’s a part of you that considers eating your food cold. But your nose wrinkles at the idea and it’s quickly disregarded. 

╰➤  When you reach the elevator, you're met with the sight of Sevika leaning against the adjacent wall. She is lazily scrolling on her phone, her other hand occupying her pocket, and her cross body bag hanging off of one of her shoulders. Similar to the sudden dip of a rollercoaster ride—visceral and unexpected—a warmth spreads within you. Your head feels light–weightless even–and you can feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

╰➤ Your arm lifts and presses the button that summons the elevator. It’s a silly action, since you’re sure Sevika has already pressed it if she’s waiting for it to arrive. But you need something to do with your body; something that can expel some of the excess energy and calm your belly acrobatics. 

╰➤ Your movement seems to catch Sevika’s attention, causing her scrolling to momentarily freeze as she glances up.

╰➤  Your gazes lock and your breath hitches and you’re pretty sure you begin to hear fireworks sounding in the distance. She smiles and you return the gesture. Or was it you that smiled first? 

╰➤  “Hi,” You say.

╰➤  Her attention trails to the lower half of your face, lingering there for a few moments before climbing back up to your eyes. In a millisecond, she’s pushing off of the wall, body upright and phone slipping into her pocket. “Hey, you.” Her grin curves even more.  

╰➤ You don’t know what’s making you feel so lovesick: the inviting cadence of her voice or the fact that she’s practically glowing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen any blemish on her face besides a few faded scars. Seriously–what kind of skin care routine did the robust woman have? You made a mental note to ask her. 

╰➤ “The weather’s been nice today.” She adds.

╰➤ You fight off a chuckle, nodding in response. The conversation is elementary and completely like all the other ones that you’ve had with her countless times before. But you enjoy how mundane your chats are with Sevika. It isn’t really the topics that interest you rather than the calming consistency of her presence. The both of you could be counting the wall tiles to pass time for all you care. 

╰➤ Sevika cards her fingers through her hair as she rolls her eyes at a corny dad joke you’ve just told. “Clever.” She quietly muses, husky voice thick with sarcasm. Her lips are fighting off a smirk though, so you know she isn’t as annoyed as she’s trying to seem. 

╰➤ “Thanks.” 

╰➤ When Sevika centers her weight, she peers at the carpet, causing a singular strand of hair to fall in front of her forehead. A small part of you wants to reach out and run your fingers through it, but you softly shake your head to refocus. You listen to the faint rings of telephones in the distance instead.

╰➤“Well,” You drag out, growing uncomfortable by the silence. “Did you have a good weekend?”

╰➤She lifts her head, nodding softly. “Yeah.” A slight pause. “I went to dinner with some friends on Saturday, and then we watched the superbowl on Sunday…Made a day out of it, really…” She clears her throat. “Yeah. It was nice… What about you?”

╰➤ You don’t register the swaying of your body until your shoulder brushes against her bicep. “It was okay, I guess. I finished a novel. Went grocery shopping…did some gardening.” You wrinkle your nose, embarrassment washing over you. “Probably not as fun or eventful as yours, I suppose.”

╰➤ “Ah,” She chuckles. Her bicep brushes against your shoulder again. You can’t decipher if it was her fault or yours this time. “I doubt that.”

╰➤ You offer a thoughtful hum, but keep quiet otherwise.

╰➤ The elevator sounds with a soft ding! All too soon, Sevika is encouraging you to step on board before her. 

╰➤ “Hi Shane,” You say, smiling at the coworker that is already inside of the service lift. He barely regards you, lips frowning and worry lines prevalent on his forehead. He takes off his baseball cap momentarily, revealing a receding hairline glistening with sweat, before wiping it off with the back of his hand and repositioning the cap.

╰➤ “Hi.” The middle aged man grumbles. He nearly throws a fit when Sevika takes her time walking through the elevator doors. His face is firetruck red, left foot tapping impatiently as his finger presses the button for the 8th floor. 

╰➤ Your eyebrows shoot up and you look at Sevika. She observes the entire situation with passive amusement. 

╰➤ “Stupid elevators.” Shane grumbles. 

╰➤ You press your lips together, trying your best to refrain from laughing while reaching around him to press the button for the 6th floor. Usually, there’s a few microwaves on that one. “Where to?” You angle your head towards Sevika.

╰➤ “6th floor as well.”

╰➤ The atmosphere fills with the trademark grinding of the elevator and Shane’s disgruntled mumbling. The minutes tick by agonizingly slow and you even feel bad for giggling quietly when Shane huffs again, looking up at the ceiling with a grinding jaw. 

╰➤ Your fingers press against your lips in an attempt to remain calm, and your eyes flit over to Sevika knowingly. 

╰➤ Shane’s always been pegged as overly anxious and impatient in the office. He seems to be perpetually unhappy with everyone and everything. He seems to just be unhappy in general.

╰➤ A few levels down, the doors open and relief fills you. Riding the elevator with a fretful Shane definitely wasn’t on the top of today’s To-Do list. But then you falter at the sight of a plain concrete wall in front of you. Your eyebrows furrow and you glance back at the row of buttons. The number 6 is no longer illuminated, but you certainly aren’t facing the cubicles on the 6th floor right now. 

╰➤ "Shit…" Sevika mumbles. “This isn’t good.” 

╰➤ “Oh, come on!” The elevator shakes slightly in response to Shane obnoxiously stomping his foot. 

╰➤ Your breath hitches and you feel your arms searching frantically, trying to grab onto something to ground you, but only finding empty air. 

╰➤  Sevika’s already scanning the surroundings, probably for an emergency call box. You don’t say anything. You’re not sure if you can. 

╰➤ Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out.

╰➤ “I can’t believe this!” Shane’s voice is several pitches higher now. “I’m going to miss my appointment. Dammit!” He stomps his foot again, snatching his cap off. It falls to the ground and his hands tightly grip his hair–or, what’s left of it.

╰➤Sevika’s head snaps in the general direction of his. “Let’s not do that.” Her voice is icy. It comes off as a command instead of a suggestion and even you find yourself trying to gain your bearings. 

╰➤ Shane sends her a glare but he makes sure to keep his foot planted and his mouth shut. 

╰➤ Your eyes are burning and you're beginning to find it hard to breathe. 

╰➤ You’re stuck.

╰➤ The elevator is fucking stuck. 

╰➤ No–you can’t freak out. That won’t help. 

╰➤ Your hands are bunching against the material of your clothing, feet working into nervous tapping. Oh God.

╰➤ Oh God.

╰➤ Sevika finally finds a button next to an icon with the emergency bell symbol, which doesn’t seem to be immediately obvious at first glance. The noise is loud and jarring when she presses it, before an automated voice begins to speak words that you can’t fully register. 

╰➤ And then she’s talking with an operator, that much you can process, but it’s all blurring together too much for your liking.

╰➤ Shane is breathing loud. Annoyingly loud in fact. 

╰➤ You want to tell him to shut the hell up, especially when he starts crying, but you can barely see through your blurred vision and it doesn’t seem like your body will listen to your brain even if you will it to.

╰➤ Then there’s warm hands pressing into your shoulders, squeezing them, before lowering to your elbows. 

╰➤ “It’s okay,” Sevika reassures. “I just talked to the operator. They’re going to try to reset the system.” 

╰➤ You shake your head and grip onto her shirt. “We're going to die.”

╰➤ “Hey,” Her breath fans against your cheeks as she ducks down to look at you levelly. Her touch retracks before you feel warmness on your face. Her thumbs are swiping your skin. “Sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay.” 

╰➤  That’s when you realize that you’re the one who’s breathing heavy, because you’re also the one who’s crying. Her thumbs are wiping away your tears.

╰➤ “Sev…” You respond, breath ragged. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared, I-”

╰➤ “It’s an honest human reaction.” Her lips brush against your left earlobe as she pulls you in for a hug. “...Better than stomping your foot and shaking the entire cabin, that’s for sure.” 

╰➤ You let out an ugly combination of a sob and laugh.

╰➤ “Not funny, you asshole.” Shane isn’t too happy with the jest.

╰➤ “Hey!” You find yourself objecting. You lift your head but know it’s no use. Sevika’s too tall for you to be able to see over her. “Be nice, you two.” 

╰➤ Shane grumbles a few other curse words, this time much quieter. Sevika tightens her hold around your waist, nose rubbing into your shoulder with an odd tenderness, but she doesn’t say anything else.

╰➤ You’re sniffling as you try to relax in her hold. You’ve given up the task of restarting your heart because you know that you’ll never be able to truly calm down until you’re safely out of this elevator. But for the meantime, you try to distract yourself with the smell of Sevika, and the feeling of her pressed against you. You cling onto her like a raft in the middle of a storm, praying that she can continue to keep your worries at bay.

╰➤ “Sev,” You say again, voice shaking. “I’m really scared.”

╰➤ “I know.” 

╰➤ The elevator slips down a considerable amount, causing the both of you to lose your footing and nearly fall. Your scream melts into a gurgle of cries as Sevika curses lowly.

╰➤ She lowers the both of you to the floor, hands attempting to steady you. The panic you feel is definitely taking over now. 

╰➤ “We’re going to die.” You hiccup, eyes widening. 

╰➤ “Darling,” Sevika pauses. You almost believe that she’s trying to gather more patience, and you can’t blame her if she is. But the pause is too brief for you to know for sure. “We aren’t going to die. Hey–”

╰➤ Her fingers are gingerly pinching your chin, urging you to meet her gaze. An air of passivity rolls off of her. “Can you breathe with me? You’re hyperventilating.” Her brows begin to furrow. “I can’t have you passing out on me, you know.”

╰➤ “We won't make it out of here.”

╰➤ Her lips fix into a thin line, “Do you trust me?”

╰➤ Your reply is immediate, “Yes.”

╰➤ “Can you trust that I will make sure you get out of here safely?” Her palms begin to press against the sides of your face, holding you close to her. She strokes the apples of your cheek with her thumbs, expression pensive. “I've got you. I…” She wets her lips, eyes flickering with an odd light. “I promise.”

╰➤ A few stray tears escape your eyes, rolling down your face and onto her palms. You inhale a long shuddering breath as you nod, mouth souring everytime you think of your current predicament.

╰➤ “Okay.” You rasp. 

╰➤ The both of you are a breath apart, huddled in one of the corners. That's when you realize that you're actually sitting in her lap. 

╰➤ “I just can't believe I’m stuck here simply because I was wanting to use the 6th floor microwave.” Your eyes flicker shut, another wave of doom hitting you. “I just wanted some lasagna!”

╰➤ Sevika laughs. “If only you took the stairs.”

╰➤ “I know, right? I don't usually because I'm lazy, but maybe-”

╰➤ “I get that this is an emotional moment right now,” Shane grunts. “But does anyone have a bottle or something? I really need to piss.”

╰➤ Your nose crinkles. Ew.

╰➤ Sevika grinds her jaw. “You will keep your pants on, or so help me God…”

╰➤ “Okay, okay. I got it.”

╰➤ You clear your throat, shifting in her lap and glancing at Shane. He has his left leg crossed over his right, legs tense and face seemingly straining with concentrated effort. A vein is bulging out of his neck and sweat is gathering around his forehead again.

╰➤ “Tell me another one of your lame jokes.” Sevika whispers, completely disregarding him and squeezing you closer to her.

╰➤ The shift in conversation feels like emotional whiplash. 

╰➤ Everything about today has been weird. You never thought a day would come where you're actually sitting in her lap, and being comforted in the most gentle way.

╰➤ But then again, you never anticipated getting stuck in an elevator with her so…

╰➤ “They are not lame.” You refute, feigning offense. “They're dad jokes.”

╰➤ “Okay, well...” Her attention zeroes in on your nose. One of her hands raises, brushing at it before inspecting a small fuzzy and flicking it away. “Tell me one of them.”

╰➤ Your blink in thought, scanning your brain for one that you haven't told her yet. It's starting to become hard to decipher which jokes you have and haven't shared with Sevika, especially as the months continue to carry on. You fear that you'll run out of them sooner than you’d like to (at least the funny ones) and then you won't know how else to entertain her. 

╰➤ “What do you call a fake noodle?”

╰➤ Her forehead scrunches as she ponders on a possible answer. 

╰➤ A slow smile curves at your lips while you mutter, “An impasta.”

╰➤ You can practically see the gears in her brain shifting before she registers the pun. Her lips are puffy from constantly being chewed on when they pull into a playful scowl. The tiniest wrinkles appear along the slope of her nose as she scrunches it, eyes peering at you through narrowed slits.

╰➤ “You're ridiculous.”

╰➤ That causes you to laugh, heart warming at the slight annoyance in her voice.  “Ridiculously funny and charming? Sure.”

╰➤ “...Oh my god.”

╰➤ “You love my jokes, just admit it.”

╰➤ “Sweetheart…They're not actually yours. I know you google them.”

╰➤ “ It's my delivery though. No one delivers jokes better than I do. It takes actual skill.”

╰➤ “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”

╰➤ “...There's the timing you have to consider and the vocal inflection.” Your hands fall down her arms, resting in your lap as they tug on one another. “It involves real artistry.”

╰➤ “How dumb of me to think otherwi-”

╰➤ “Oh, thank you! God! Thank you!”

╰➤ You jump at Shane’s outburst, examining the way he stands to his feet, a grin breaking across his face. He’s pointing at the elevator doors, which are now closing. A low hum fills the air. Soon after, the sound of cogs becomes louder and the elevator begins moving.

╰➤ You and Sevika startle at the sudden shift, moment now broken. When you peer at her, she's smiling softly, grey irises drinking in every one of your features. 

╰➤”I told you we’d be okay.” She says.

╰➤You're too relieved to properly respond, allowing her to help you stand up instead. 

╰➤ The intercom beeps and a voice says, "Rescue team here. Please remind us how many people are there with you?"

╰➤ “If you feel any sort of stress from today, please don't hesitate to use this number.” Cam says as he shoves a business card into your hand.

╰➤ You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine. I swear.”

╰➤ “There's no shame in using the services, I promise. Just input your employee number and the company code on the website and it’ll—”

╰➤ “Cam,” Your left hand reaches up to squeeze his shoulder. You make sure to hold his gaze. “I’m totally fine now, I promise. I’ll admit that it shook me up a little, because it felt like we were going to be stuck in there forever. But everything's okay.”

╰➤ He scans your face, searching for any sign that you're being untruthful. When he doesn't find any, he nods smally. “Go home.” His stare becomes stern. “Take it easy for the next few days.”

╰➤ “Cam—”

╰➤ “I’m serious! If you go back to your office for the rest of the day, I’ll take a deduction from your wages.”

╰➤ You roll your eyes, “That doesn’t sound legal.”

╰➤ “I’m sorry, I can't hear you anymore.” He shrugs his shoulders, pacing a few steps backwards. “I have meetings to attend now.” He doesn't allow you to object, adding, “Have a good weekend, kid,” before turning around and leaving the room.

╰➤ It hasn't been long since you’ve been rescued from the elevator—maybe 30 minutes, at most. Cam made his way over to the three of you once he received notice of everything. You feel relatively fine. The medics accessed you first, since you seemed to be the most shaken up when they arrived. And ever since they finished, Cam has somehow convinced himself that you, Shane and Sevika should take the rest of the day off.

╰➤ He also seemed adamant about offering you the free therapy services that your company provides, hence the business card in your hand. But you feel like it might be a desperate gesture to cover his ass. Surely, this isn't the first time that someone's been stuck in the elevator while on the clock.

╰➤ The medic team seems to just be finishing their assessment with Sevika and Shane now. You stand off to the side, watching helplessly, as Sevika sits in a chair and chats casually with a buff paramedic woman. 

╰➤ The three of you were momentarily moved to a nearby conference room when rescued from the elevator. One of the office supervisors said it was to give you all a space to “wind down and decompress.” But you're pretty sure it's because the company is trying to gloss over the elevator incident. 

╰➤ The door to the conference room opens and you're met with the familiar face of Kai. Their eyes are wide—frantic—as they scan the area. 

╰➤ “Dude,”  They gasp, attention on Sevika. “You won't believe the stuff that's circulating the office right now…it's some crazy shit!”

╰➤ Then they’re grabbing one of the chairs closest to Sevika, plopping down in it. “Are you guys okay? Seriously, what the fuck happened?”

╰➤ “We were stuck in that stupid contraption.” Shane butts in. “We could have died and they only care about giving us PTO and a stupid link to telehealth.”

╰➤ It's the first time you've heard him talk since stepping off of the elevator. 

╰➤ “I missed my damn appointment and the fee I’ll get charged is ridiculous,” He slams his hand on the table, fingers spreading out against the surface and jaw grinding. “I’m gonna sue these motherfuckers.”

╰➤ Surrounding medics have been slowly packing up their equipment, but they momentarily freeze at the sound of Shane's threat. The one closest to Sevika lifts an eyebrow, expression bemused as she pockets her phone. 

╰➤ “I’m not sure if you can do that, Shane.” Kai quirks. Their eyes dance with humor as they swallow a chuckle.

╰➤ “I’m 62. I can do whatever the hell I want!”

╰➤ Kai nods, slightly taken aback. “Touché.”

╰➤ Shane grumbles under his breath, standing to his feet with the help of a nearby medic. He’s slightly hunched over, gripping the lower part of his back while he hobbles to the entrance door.

╰➤ “Bye Shane!” You call.

╰➤ He waves you off irritably, not bothering to turn around and give you a proper farewell.

╰➤ “And they said you fainted when the rescue team came,” Kai turns to you, expression morphing into something kinder. You think you see their eyes travel to Sevika for a split second, but you conclude that it’s just your overactive imagination. “How are you feeling now?”

╰➤ You laugh incredulously, “Do people just live to gossip here? That was barely an hour ago.”

 ╰➤ “It's not like there's much else to do around these parts,” Kai grins wickedly. “Besides the scandalous office romances that people chat about. But that's old news. This is the most exciting thing we’ve had since Christmas!”

╰➤ You laugh harder, hands coming up to rest against your cheeks as you work through your shock. “That's one way to put it.”

╰➤ The three of you are alone now since the last two medics managed to slip out of the room inconspicuously. And now it's harder to escape the overwhelming fatigue that looms in the air. Secretly, you thank Cam for giving you the rest of the day off.

╰➤ “I have to get back soon. I’m supposed to be meeting the Amazon delivery driver in t minus one minute.” 

╰➤ “Oh my god,” Sevika rumbles, shoving her friend out of their seat. “Go do your job.”

╰➤ “Yes ma’am.” Kai wipes their hands on their jeans, leaning down and kissing Sevika on the cheek before ruffling her hair. “I’m glad you didn't like, die or anything, loser.”

╰➤ Sevika merely grunts.

╰➤ Kai winks at you, “Bye lovebirds!”

╰➤ And then there were two. 

╰➤ You carefully pivot to face the herculean woman a few feet away from you. The crease between her brows, even though heavily prevalent when Kai was here many seconds ago, are now gone. She stares at you for a beat, lower lip caught between her teeth and hands drumming against the muscles of her thighs. 

╰➤ “Sorry about Kai. They're a bit childish sometimes.” Sevika mutters. But despite her words, you can tell she thinks fondly of Kai. 

╰➤ “I like them.” You find yourself admitting. “They’re funny.”

╰➤ “They’re annoying.”

╰➤ Her lips twitch into the smallest hint of a grin. Your own smile grows and subsequently, her eyelids flutter. In the midst of today's chaos and fading professionalism, the heart of something tender passes between the both of you. The air cracks and sparks fly. It's fleeting—but it's there.

╰➤ Her throat jostles as she swallows, “How are you feeling?” 

╰➤ There's an unmistakable burn within you that her question creates. “I’m better than before.” 

╰➤ Her eyes trail down your body, then back up to your face. You assume that it's a mistake. But then her gaze wanders again, and this time it's for longer. This time, it has more intent.  Your stomach flips.

╰➤ Her lips barely move when she responds, “Good.”

╰➤ You sense the moment slipping away, and a tiny part of your brain nudges you to leave the room and go home. God-forbid Cam stumbles back in and sees that you're still here. But for some reason, you hover.

╰➤ “Thanks for earlier, by the way,” Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and your hands are growing clammy. “For helping me and stuff.”

╰➤ And stuff.

╰➤ You're not sure if thanking her for the other stuff is appropriate, considering you were practically straddling her and holding onto her in ways that's crossed many, many lines. But that seems to be the ongoing trend between you and Sevika; you cross too many lines with her.

╰➤ “No need to be thanking me.” 

╰➤ You shrug, “...Was still kind of you.”

╰➤ Her lips rub together and that's when you realize how soft they look. A small hum escapes her and you watch inquisitively as she opens her mouth. 

╰➤ But then nothing comes out, leaving her with a slack jaw and gaping mouth. Your brows start to furrow, chest tightening while several more beats pass and Sevika remains dazed. 

╰➤ A whooshing sound fills the air due to the AC turning on. Dust particles begin to circulate around you, and your ankles are tickled by the new draft blowing from the vents.

╰➤ “Is everything okay?” You try to keep the worry out of your voice, but the shift in her is abrupt.

╰➤ Her eyes cloud over with something indescribable, a sense of apprehension rolling off of her in thick waves. 

╰➤ “Um,” Her words drag and her eyes dart away from you. They settle on an empty space between you and the nearby wall. Her body is completely rigid, as if the floor will give out at any moment. “Would you ever want to hang out?”

╰➤ Your heart crawls up the walls of your esophagus, beating with all of it’s might.

╰➤ You shift your feet, then tug at your fingers.

╰➤ “Like, outside of work?” She clarifies. She dodges your eyes, settling on the other details of you instead; like your restless feet and your fidgeting hands.

╰➤ “You’d want to do that?”

╰➤ “Well,” She gives you a sidelong glance. “I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't.”

╰➤ Your internal debate resolves and your smile stretches wide—so wide that you think your cheeks are becoming sore.

 ╰➤ “Oh,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, so you have to clear your throat. “Okay. Well, I want to also.”

╰➤ She mirrors you and breaks into a silly grin, gap visible and nose wrinkling. 

╰➤ “Just let me know when,” You add. “And I’ll be down.” 

╰➤ “How about Saturday?”

╰➤ “Um—wow. I didn't know you meant so soon. Will Kai be okay with you choosing the day on their behalf?”

╰➤ Her eyebrows shoot up. “Kai?” 

╰➤ “Yeah, have you even asked if…” Oh.

╰➤ Oh.

╰➤ Your gut ignites at the revelation.

╰➤ The greys in her irises darken an alluring shade. 

╰➤ “Okay,” You nod, understanding completely now. She doesn't need to say anything more for you to realize the full weight of her offer.

╰➤ God.

╰➤ Oh God.

╰➤ You've dreamt about this moment for months but you never thought it’d actually come true.

╰➤ “Okay,” She parrots. “It's a date, then?”

╰➤ Your toes curl inside your shoes. Nodding enthusiastically, you confirm, “Definitely.”

╰➤  You never are the type to enjoy the action of driving cars.

╰➤ It’s mostly to do with the fact that your life could very well be in someone else’s hands. The likelihood of surviving another day without being in a car accident feels like sheer luck sometimes. 

╰➤ But your road anxiety is heightened even more as you brave the heavy city traffic, trying not to pee your pants at the idea of being near Sevika in less than an hour.

╰➤ You exhale, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel restlessly. Why is this taking so long?

╰➤ After ages of waiting, you’re finally able to get to the other side of town. It’s quieter here and far less busy. Sevika texted you the suggestion this morning and you immediately agreed–the quieter, the better.

╰➤ But your heart stops when you find yourself parked in front of a towering brownstone building, with multi-story terraces and sleek black protective gates. The streets are nearly empty and the distant chirp of birds fill the air.

╰➤ Your lips are pulling into a frown when you look at your phone screen, reading, You have arrived at your destination for the nth time.

╰➤ Swiping away from the GPS app, you allow your thumbs to click on Sevika’s contact number. 

╰➤ Two rings sound before she answers, “Hello?”

╰➤ “Hi–” You crane your neck to look out of your window. “I think I‘m here? I’m not sure where your place exactly is though...”

╰➤ You hear shuffling on the other line along with the soft hum of music. Then you see movement from a window on the second floor. Curtains are pushed aside and a familiar figure comes into view. The sliding glass of the terrace door is pushed open, and she’s sticking her head out, scanning the row of cars lined up along the street. 

╰➤ “Oh,” You breathe, heart stuttering. “Nevermind. I see you.”

╰➤ You remain seated in your car, like an idiot, while her eyes lock with yours.

╰➤ Then she grins, which is a heartbreakingly beautiful thing to witness. 

╰➤ “Sorry for being late,” You rasp into the receiver, eyes never leaving hers. “I got stuck in traffic.”

╰➤ “You’re two minutes late, sweetheart.” Her voice is thick with amusement. “That’s hardly anything to fuss about.”

╰➤ The following stretch of nothing is almost too painful to bear. Something is holding you back from stepping out of the car. Whether it be fear or nerves, you can’t really tell. All you know is that this feels like uncharted territory. 

╰➤ “I’ll come down and get you,” She says. You nod. She disappears into her apartment and the line goes dead.

╰➤ The air of Sevika’s apartment smells overwhelmingly like her: woodsy with a hint of apple cinnamon. Your shoes click against the floorboard when she guides you through the doorway, knuckles brushing against your forearm and leaving a fire in its wake. 

╰➤ “This is me.” Her voice is soft around the lock of the deadbolt and chain guard. There’s a lowly dimmed lamp hanging from the ceiling, a coat rack placed in the corner and a sitting bench to your left.  She looks over slowly–hesitantly; as if she’s trying to gauge your reaction.

╰➤ You find yourself swallowing thickly as you’re smacked with another smell of her. 

╰➤ When you don’t respond, she toes out of her shoes, movements quiet and swift. Silently, you follow her lead. She gathers your boots with hers and positions them underneath the sitting bench. 

╰➤ “This way,” She mumbles. You allow her to side-step, walking down the hall and toward a connecting room, where you faintly see a burgundy living room set. The walk down the corridor almost feels too quick, since you keep getting distracted by the countless art and picture frames lined up on her wall. You realize that the walls appear to be so decorated that you don’t see much of the paint. 

╰➤ Her living room appears to be similar, littered with different pieces of art and photographs that you could stare at for hours if given the chance. The atmosphere is tranquil but the furniture and color scheme is deliberate and poised. The ceiling is much higher than yours and the windows are fairly large. Much of the interior is splashed with dark velvety hues of red and purple. 

╰➤ Two brimming bookshelves stretch to the ceiling, lined with countless collections of CDs and novels. The brick fireplace is already lit and emmenates a warm glow around the room. Sevika’s gaze is clear and level when you peer at her. And her eyebrows lift inquisitively. 

╰➤ “It’s…” Your voice cracks, causing you to clear your throat. “This is really nice.” 

╰➤ Her head is tilted, eyes squinting ever-so-slightly with a nature that is purely meditative; as if she’s trying to pick out any signs of dishonesty. The burning sensation of her dissection is potent. Your mouth pools with saliva as the seconds tick by.

╰➤ A low whistle escapes you as you try to compensate for the tension. “Why so quiet?” Your legs shuffle.

╰➤ She licks her lips and hums. “Just trying to make sure this is okay.”

╰➤ “What?” Your eyebrows are furrowing.

╰➤ She gestures at your surroundings, “This. My home—at least, that you’re comfortable being here. If you prefer to spend time in a more public place, then…”

╰➤ “Oh.” Your features relax. She’s trying to be polite. “No. This is fine, Sev. I’m always comfortable around you.” You wipe your sweaty palms against the material of your pants. 

╰➤ Her eyes follow the movement of your hands, before they linger on the lower half of your body for the tenth of a second while her jaw flexes. You gaze at her with growing anticipation due to the dead silence. She takes a long inhale through her nose, refocusing her attention back to your eyes with what seems like a great deal of concentration. 

╰➤ A shaky smile spreads across your lips. You travel over to one of the nearby bookshelves, which holds a CD player that’s currently playing a smooth jazz solo. You have to find something to do—anything—other than stand there and grow lustful under her pressing gaze. 

╰➤ “You have quite a collection,” You begin.

╰➤ Your back is turned to her as you look through the cases that are neatly stacked together. Despite being covered with clothing, the skin of your back grows hot, as if her gaze is seeping straight through the material of your shirt.

╰➤ “A lot of them were my parents. They loved collecting music.”

╰➤ You don't have the heart or gall to mention the past-tense reference of her parents. Instead, you nod. 

╰➤ You feel like you're hypervigilant to everything about her in that moment. The sound of her weight traveling across the carpet becomes heightened, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand when you see her shadow appearing out of the corner of your eye. When you look towards your left, you struggle to contain the zoo that rips through your stomach. She's close. Very close.

╰➤ Her shoulders brush against yours while she reaches across you to turn down the stereo. "You can pick something else if you want," Her voice dips into something low and syrupy. "I don't know what type of music you like." Then she's walking away. Your eyes follow her as she disappears into another room. "Are you thirsty?"

╰➤ "I'll listen to practically anything as long as it's not country." You shuffle through the CD's, stopping when a particular one catches your eye. A classic. "What do you have?"

╰➤ Once you've replaced the CD with one of your choice, you mosey into the other room to join her. It's a kitchen, fairly minimalist compared to the living room, and painted with nearly all black decor. The sight of Sevika standing there is unfamiliar. Her hair is tied up in a half up half down, small tendrils escaping and brushing against the sides of her face. Her nose is wrinkled, eyes squinted and lip rolled inwards.

╰➤ She leans most of her weight onto her hands, which are resting on the surface of the kitchen island. Her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows, and attention is focused acutely on a book that's sitting on the counter. Something savory wafts in the air and you spy a stove behind her that seems to be emanating an exceptional amount of warmth.

╰➤ "Um," you mumble. "Is everything okay?"

╰➤ Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, at first holding something distant, before they cloud over with an undeniable light. Her hands tighten into fists, pressing against the marble countertop before she relaxes them. Then she's standing upright, one arm falling to her side while the other rubs against her forehead. "I'm..." Her words trail off as she glances at the watch on her wrist. "Fuck."

╰➤ Then she's whipping around, opening the oven door. A small cloud of smoke appears.

╰➤ "What are you cooking?" You close the distance between the two of you, swiping through the smoke before peering into the oven.

╰➤ "Nothing anymore." She sighs. "It was supposed to be—"

╰➤ "Lasagna."

╰➤ You reach for the oven mitts sitting on the nearby countertop, slipping them on before grabbing the deep-dish pan.

╰➤ "I noticed you have it a lot." She continues. "I just thought—since you seem to like it..."

╰➤ You set it on the hot pads, inspecting the top layer of the pasta dish.

╰➤ "Actually, it doesn't look too bad." You say. "It'll have to go back in, and we'll need to turn the heat down to 375, so that it cooks all the way through the layers without scorchi—"

╰➤ That's when it hits you.

╰➤ "Wait," You abruptly right yourself, snapping your head towards her. She's already watching you, drinking in everything you were saying. Her eyebrows raise at your outburst. Hands still covered in mittens, you're stepping around her, doing a double take at the book that's still open on the kitchen island. "Is that a cookbook?"

╰➤ She doesn't immediately respond.

╰➤ When you crane you neck to get a better look, you're barely registering the words Classic Homemade Lasagna Recipe before her large hand abruptly lands on the book with a loud smack! Her fingers are outstretched, keeping you from being able to see majority of what's written. But it's too late, your assumption has already been proven right.

╰➤ The book is shut before you can say anything else. She opens an overhead cupboard, sliding it in there with one quick motion.

╰➤ "Oh my god," You fight off a wave of giggles, lips stretching into a wide grin. "That was definitely a cookbook."

╰➤ She brushes a few loose hairs out of her face and chooses to avoid your gaze.

╰➤ The stillness that follows is nearly unbearable. In the distance, you hear the current song from the CD player fading out. A car is honking from the street outside and the buzz of the AC comes on. You're still turned towards her, hands covered by her oven mitts and cheeks aching from the smile on your face. She continues to dodge you; resolute.

╰➤ You can't contain your laughter anymore. It's bellows out of you like a songbird breaking free from its cage. That seems to finally draw her attention, and wills her to glance at you. Upon locking eyes, slowly, she smiles an equally warm grin.

╰➤ And just like that, the elastic band of tension that existed all evening snaps.

╰➤ Her laughter quickly follows yours, deeper and soothing and just as beautiful as the last time you heard it. Her rigid stance melts away and her fingers relax.

╰➤ "Sev, why—" You wet your lips. "You didn't have to go out of your way to a get recipe and make this. I would have been fine with take-out."

╰➤ "Kai sent me the link to the cookbook yesterday and I figured why not. It was only $20," She rolls her eyes. "Plus it has better reviews that the lasagna recipes I was looking at online."

╰➤ The cookbook was only $20.

╰➤ Adrenaline courses through your veins from such an implication. Sevika bought a cookbook just to make one of your favorite foods. No one's ever done something like that for you before.

╰➤ No one's ever paid close enough attention to even notice your love for lasagna.

╰➤ The way Sevika always manages to nonchalantly flatter you will forever be something you struggle to fathom.

╰➤ You're biting the inside of your cheek, trying your best to contain your buzzing excitement as you place the pan back into the oven. Your back remains turned to her, stomach flipping and fingers nimble.

╰➤ "This is very kind of you to do," You find yourself muttering.

╰➤ "I mean," The sound of her body weight shifting is subtle. "It's our first date. It's the least I could do."

╰➤ "Still kind."

╰➤ You don't allow yourself to brush over one of her many kind gestures. You don't allow yourself to take any of this for granted. Sevika has been very good to you, especially in a world where people haven't been in the past. Often times, she's been more than just your friendly coworker.

╰➤ Whether she wants to admit it or not, she's the one who's actually a sweetheart.

╰➤ "Why don't you like to accept my compliments?" You inquire. You take off her oven mitts, setting them on a nearby counter-space before turning around. Droplets of perspiration trickle down your forehead and the back of your neck. You wipe them away with the palm of your hand, stepping away from the searing hot oven and towards her.

╰➤ Sevika is resting against the kitchen island, arms crossed over her chest and eyes solely fixed on you. You don't miss the way her jaw flexes as you come closer. But you choose to ignore it, positioning yourself to where your right hip is pressed against the island cupboards, just off of Sevika's left shoulder.

╰➤ "Because most of the time, I'm not doing anything extraordinary." She wrinkles her nose. "It's the bare minimum, actually."

╰➤ "Well," You almost come to a standstill as you rack your brain for an appropriate response. "I still appreciate it."

╰➤ That's when you send her a smile. Similar to an innate feeling, you expect her to return the gesture, since there's never really been a time that Sevika hasn't.

╰➤ But the seconds continue to stretch and her smile never appears.

╰➤ Her lips part and her throat bobs as she swallows thickly. You don't think you've seen her eyes look so lucid before.

╰➤ A part of you wants to be consumed by her. You want her to have you; in whatever way that would mean for her. You'd be happy with any scenario. But another part also wants you to remain present in this moment; to fully cling onto every moment that passes with you in her presence. It's a heartbreakingly beautiful conundrum to be in.

╰➤ "The bare minimum barely checks off the list. You know that, right?" Her voice is firm during this wake of silence. Assertive. Strong. But her words manage to undue something within you; something you didn't even know was tightly wound to begin with. "You deserve to receive so much more than the bare minimum from someone. And you deserve to not have to thank them for that."

╰➤ She says it with such conviction that you almost believe that she's been thinking about this for a while.

╰➤Hearing those words nearly break you.

╰➤ They're arguably obvious. But despite how much the general public likes to make instagram captions and TedTalks about it, you've never really been told this before. Not directly. Not with such certainty.

╰➤ "And," She wets her lips, eyes darting away from you for the first time. "Of course I don't want to be too full on this soon. I'd like to think cooking you one of your favorite foods would give me a good start. But there's—" She's shaking her head with creases forming in between her brows. "...a lot more that I want to offer to you other than shitty lasagna."

╰➤ You don't respond for a beat as you feel a new unspoken surge of energy igniting between you two. It's takes form as an invisible current, growing with each ticking second.

╰➤ Her attention doesn't waver, remaining clear and steady and safe. You find it hard to breathe with the careful way that she's studying you. Air pacts into your lungs at an alarming rate and your heart beats a mile a minute while your throat locks.

╰➤ Your lips part. Then, "What else are you wanting to offer?"

╰➤ You watch as she cards her fingers through her hair. There's a bounce to her silky locks that leads you to believe it's been very recently washed. If you step forward more, all you have to do is reach up to touch it. She's so close.

╰➤ Incredibly close.

╰➤ You don't know how it's happened but somewhere deep inside of you, where the abandoned and empty house of your life resided, a bright light has been ignited. Somehow, that house is no longer empty. It's no longer cold. Sevika has managed to cast an exceptional amount of life into you.

╰➤ Everything becomes watery at the revelation; her black marble countertops, her crème colored button-up, the swirling grey of her irises. It's all blurry. You struggle to blink away your welling tears.

╰➤ How typical of you to get emotional during a time like this...

╰➤ Sevika doesn't reply. She just peers at you with an expression that makes her look as if she's short circuiting. The air is warm, with the oven being heated to a scorching 375 degrees just a few feet away. It's warm and Sevika doesn't falter in managing to unravel you from her regard. It's warm, and your hands are reaching out. It's warm because it's her. She's the warmth.

╰➤ Your hands stop mid-reach, hovering in the air as she fleetingly glances at them. Your pulse thumps against the side of your neck; eyelids fluttering. "What else?" You press. A gentle nudge. A plead.

╰➤ You need to hear her say it; for the sake of confirming that everything is requited.

╰➤ She closes the rest of the distance by grabbing your hands with hers. They're larger and wrap around yours without any extra effort. The gesture is small. But it somehow still causes your legs to nearly give out. She tugs you, urging you closer. You stumble as you give into her magnetic pull. But you're too caught up in all that she is to truly feel embarrassed by it.

╰➤ "I want to offer you everything good." Sevika states it firmly; earnestly. "I don't feel that with people very often. But you," She squeezes your hands, puffing out a heavy exhale. Her breath brushes over your face, minty and enticing. "...I'd do anything to bring goodness into your life."

╰➤ "You already have." The lump in your throat explodes, almost blowing it out completely. Your voice is hoarse—thick with emotion.

╰➤ Her breathing becomes shaky and her mouth falls open. You watch as shock transforms itself onto her features.

╰➤ "Seeing you everyday in that stuffy break room...getting to know you and being able to talk to you," You continue, head bowing as you try to gather your thoughts in a way that won't overwhelm her. "Those days rest with me right here." You bring both your hands and hers to rest against your chest. "I already hold a deep tenderness for you. And it's something that's only for you. Do you know that?"

╰➤ She keenly follows your lips as you speak, leaning so closely now that her forehead grazes against yours. The movement is painstakingly subtle but it still makes your surroundings blacken. The feeling that takes over is close to a rebirth; like being pushed into the ocean by yourself and somehow resurfacing with Sevika fundamentally built into you.

╰➤ And when she kisses you, you know, down to the marrow of your bones, that this is something holy. Teeth clatter and hunger intensifies. Her hands have found solace by clinging onto the rolls of your hips, digging into you, hooking you to her. Ink becomes imprinted onto your heart, screaming—scrawling—Sevikasevikasevikasevika endlessly.

╰➤ She trembles slightly when you press against her; your hands resting against the firmness of her biceps. You reach for her further, never fully satiated, while your toes pull you upwards. Your neck cranes and your chest constricts from the way you desperately lean against her. You're chasing her—her mouth, her smell, her lips, her taste—and she welcomes you with just as much desperation.

╰➤ She's whispering, "...okay, okay," her voice a gentle echo. Her fingers curl into you, positively leaving marks. "I definitely know now."

╰➤ Sevika transforms from warmth to burning heat at that moment. You cherish the feeling.

╰➤ Somewhere, not too far away, a celestial body explodes.

╰➤ When she's lifting your shirt off of you, the burgundy color of her duvet being lit by a bright moon shining through her window, that same feeling of your world revitalizing returns.

╰➤ A mix of soft sighs and oh sweetheart and countless cresting follows. Your legs quiver and symphonies sound in your ears while she devours you as if you're her last meal.

╰➤ "Don't stop," you continuously plead, drunk off of the beautiful disaster that such a person could cause.

╰➤ She whispers into your skin, mouthing—kissing—and nipping, with a broken voice, "I won't. I promise."

╰➤ I promise.

╰➤ I promise.

╰➤ I promise.

╰➤ The headboard cracks. There's laughter, and snack breaks and savory kisses.

╰➤ And when you're lapping into her with unadulterated vehemence, giving her everything that she wants to take, you promise too.

╰➤ You'll promise everyday if she asks you to.

╰➤ You'll promise until your life expires—until the world ends. Until she decides that she doesn't want you anymore.

╰➤ Long gone are the moments of uncertainty; of hesitancy.

╰➤ After the both of you have recovered from chasing such a high, her arm remains draped over your waist, tugging you into her. She mumbles, "Stay," with a vulnerability that has you shaking your head before a beat of silence can pass.

╰➤ "Always."

╰➤ Another explosion emerges; this time larger. A supernova.

╰➤ Your lips press against her throat. She shivers. Her grip tightens. The moon shines brighter.

╰➤ Always.

#au writing #fanfic #arcane au #lesbian #arcane netflix #fluff #sevika #sevika x reader #piscespetals writing #sevika pls marry me #sevika imagine #sevika x y/n #arcane sevika #arcane women #coworkers to friends to lovers #foolish senseless desperate gay pinning #this took me two weeks to edit good grief

[piscespetals]

Ruin the friendship

summary: you question ellie's feelings + best friends to 'lovers'

word count: about 11k.

content: angst, slow burn, college au, rich!ellie, fluff, mutual pining

this fic was 17k but i just finished editing it after two days, so i hope that it’s pretty decent. happy reading!

You cursed yourself for the feelings you had grown for your best friend, Ellie Williams.

You were fully aware of how inconvenient it was. 

However, you couldn't help it.

Ellie often kept her feelings boarded up, not divulging much of that side of her unless she felt truly comfortable with a person. Therefore, her vulnerability was something that you cherished. She trusted you. A part of her had to care for you, to some capacity, in order for her to be so candid in your presence.

But in addition to the vulnerability, you also appreciated the connection that you fostered with Ellie. It went beyond any typical friendship; it went beyond any relationship that you ever had with anyone. You couldn't help but love that you could be completely vulnerable with Ellie without shame. You loved the way that she stared intently when listening. It didn’t seem to matter how silly your conversations could sometimes be–Ellie was always there to listen.

She had a way of making your worries fade away. Whenever you two spent time together, nothing else was possibly worth your attention. So, of course, you eventually forced yourself to acknowledge these feelings. Because said feelings were not emotions that you usually had for your other friends.

You sometimes believed that you were silly for having hope. 

There had been moments when you felt as if Ellie was staring longer than necessary, or touched you a bit too often—and certainly more intimately—than normal friends would. But that thought was always discarded when you two were no longer alone—when you were shoved back into the world of Ellie’s friends—and you remembered that she was quite affectionate with every platonic connection that she cared deeply for.

You would be lying if you didn't admit that you often grew jealous. You wanted to be the only person that held Ellie's attention in a special way. It was ridiculous and selfish. But it was true.

You didn’t personally have anything against Ellie’s friends. They couldn’t help their charisma and nepotism status. They couldn't help their tall height, gazelle-like legs, and international fame.

They couldn't help any of it.

But just because they couldn't help it, didn't mean that you didn't feel any less threatened. You weren’t as graceful as them and certainly didn't feel as magnetic. You liked normalcy and everything that came with it. 

Most importantly, you were the opposite of what they were. Frugal, sarcastic, mostly indifferent, somewhat cynical and (as your sister liked to say) 'annoyingly aloof'. You liked keeping a low profile—again, quite the opposite of Ellie’s crowd—and to go with the flow.

The first few times that you hung out with Ellie’s friends, you overheard them voicing your behavior as “arrogant” and “stiff.”

"She's just quiet." Ellie had said in defense. "She only speaks if she’s close to you or if it's absolutely necessary."

And it took a while for her friends to believe that. 

You didn't think that this was because you were some extraordinary person who was different and 'not like the others'. In fact, it was the complete opposite. You were quite ordinary, and content with how average you truly were. But because of this, there was a cultural difference between you and Ellie’s friends. The two worlds were so different, that it was hard to bond. You all were merely acquaintances, connected by a mutual friend. 

You couldn't help but ponder over this as you arrived at Ellie’s home and rang the doorbell.

The door swung open, creaking because the rusty bolts had yet to be fixed. Ellie was wearing a pair of sweats and a gray cotton t-shirt. She was languid, a sign that she'd just woken up, with sleepy eyes and a lazy grin.

"How many times," She drawled slowly, voice thick with sleep. "...Do I have to tell you-"

"Not to ring the doorbell." You mumbled, bored by the same conversation that repeated every Sunday. "Well, judging by your appearance, it seems like a doorbell is the only way you would have answered." You sent your friend a level glance. "It's 3 pm. How much longer were you planning on sleeping in?"

Her grin widened. "Until you showed up."

You hummed lowly, already allowing your attention span to drift away as you stepped through the doorway. Ellie barely moved to the side, causing you to brush against her, which sent an electric jolt through you.

Just when you felt yourself recovering from her touch, you were overwhelmed by the familiar smell of her. Her natural scent was always comforting; a smell of peppermint and soap, an indication that Ellie was becoming deeply domesticated. 

Soon enough, she was locking the entrance door, which caused you to snap out of her thoughts. Feeling incredibly hot in that moment, you heaved a sigh, slipping off your jacket and shoes immediately.

The slight hum of the T.V filled the atmosphere, along with the distant whooshing! of the dishwasher from the kitchen.

"El," You mumbled.

Her hand rested on your lower back, ushering you down the entrance hallway and towards the living room. You shivered at the touch. 

"Hm?" Ellie answered, breath tickling your ear. 

"Why am I here?"

"It's Sunday."

"Yes." You nodded slowly. "But I mean," You swallowed, trying to sort through your thoughts. "You have so many other friends you could spend your Sundays with."

"I don't want to spend Sundays with my other friends. I want to spend them with you." 

Ellie’s hand was slipping from your lower back as you finally stepped into the living room. You left her in an attempt to control your racing heart, grabbing a folded blanket before plopping onto the couch. 

"What's all of this about?" She continued. "I always spend Sundays with you."

You nibbled on your bottom lip, thinking deeply about what to say, how to form it into correct sentences, before finally deciding to give up.

Ellie tried to ignore the flutter in her heart as she stared at you. She knew that you'd established their friendship long ago, but she couldn't help but let her mind drift when you looked the way that you do. 

Friendzoned or not, there was no denying that you were beautiful. Your skinned glowed in the hues of the sunlight, eyes tender and observant, plump lips pulled into a pout—and slightly raw from your constant biting.

There was so much that Ellie wanted to do to you. It made her core stir, tugging at the explicit thoughts that ran through her mind. It took great difficulty for her to gaze at you without feeling inappropriate. 

"If you take a picture, it’ll last longer." You placidly stated, finally breaking the silence. You blinked at her through thick lashes, expression bored.

Ellie’s gaze lingered on your lips before trailing to the rest of you. She wondered how someone so gorgeous could possibly be walking around on Earth without anyone worshiping you. But a wave of appreciation filled her as well. You weren't taken—not yet. She had time. 

You were sporting dark gray leggings and a yellow top. The shirt was one of Ellie’s favorites, something that was accidentally mentioned in passing during a night of movie marathons and endless wine. 

The stretchy, cotton material hugged your legs tightly, highlighting the curve of your hips and thighs. Ellie didn't want to stare too long—she tried her best to be polite with you—so instead, she looked away.

You felt like you could breathe once her gaze was elsewhere. Usually, you loved to have Ellie's undivided attention. A lurch always appeared in your gut and your palms would clam up. However, Ellie had a way about her that could be intense. It was hard for you to read her at times; to understand what she was thinking or why she analyzed you so deeply. So instead, you were often left feeling self-conscious and flustered, which were emotions that never sat well with you.

Your mouth watered when Ellie finally plopped down beside you. You got another whiff of her scent, which caused your eyes to flutter and your heart to jump in your throat. 

You just loved how fresh her entire being was.

Ellie never smelled like a particular perfume. Just newly washed linens and soap, and a hint of peppermint that would waft in her home. She also had an appearance that made her appear fresh. Her skin was always smooth, makeup minimal to highlight the freckles that dotted her face. Her nails remained perfectly trimmed. Overall, Ellie just looked neat and clean; simple. It was attractive.

She was pretty organized. By all means, Ellie's place was never spotless. But her mess was an organized mess. She kept everything folded; dirty clothes designated to one area, comic books stacked in another. The air was always being cleansed with purifiers and fresheners, candles constantly burning, carpet soft and vaccummed. Ellie was the sort of person that kept the pillows fluffed and encouraged coaster usage. She liked to “neatly” pile the dirty dishes in the sink by way of a special order. And she never liked anyone to step inside her home without removing their shoes.

Ellie didn't say anything further on the subject as she momentarily lifted the blanket off of you, crawling under and scooting close.

"It's cold." She mumbled, keeping her gaze on the television.

You smiled softly, heart erupting when her delicate fingers played with yours, before she finally intertwined your hands.

~

"Is that Ellie?" Danielle asked, nudging you. You both were at your campus cafe, sitting comfortably at the lounge with your school work and iced coffee. You were dressed in cotton sweats and a navy blue crewneck. The pants were rolled up to your knees, a makeshift pair of baggy capris, as you absentmindedly tugged at the collar of your crewneck sweater, peering down at your psychology homework with furrowed brows. 

But your attention was diverted the moment that Danielle mentioned Ellie. You snapped your head up, scanning the room lazily before your eyes landed on her. 

There she was, walking towards you both in dark washed skinny jeans, a black tee and worn converse. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, displaying her tattooed forearms.

"She’s hot." Danielle added, gawking at your friend. "I always forget how good looking she is."

You snorted at that, but deep down you couldn't help but agree. 

You knew how attractive Ellie was. Hell—you wish that you could just forget about her looks for one single second. You missed the early days of the friendship, the days when you could glance at her without wanting to kiss her breathless. The days where you didn't feel the absolute need to always have her skin against yours. Those were the times of simplicity; of ease. 

“Now I won't be able to focus.” Danielle whispered. You threw an amused glance towards her, suppressing a giggle. "She’s kinda intimidating." Danielle voiced. "But mean women are hot as fuck. So."

Your lips pulled together at the comment, trying to ignore the thick rush of jealousy that filled you. 

But you couldn't really blame Danielle.

Ellie was always prancing around with the aesthetic of a Vans poster model; sporting her button-ups and undershirts and beat up sneakers. 

And her jeans.

God—those jeans.

Not a day passed when they didn't hug her thighs in a way that had your mouth watering, wishing you were kneeled in front of her. Ellie had a habit of rolling up her sleeves, showing off her ink-filled forearms that were constantly decorated with veins. She was a fucking dream.

When Ellie arrived, she pecked your cheeks in greeting. Then she turned to Danielle, kissing her cheek as well which caused a flustered expression to fall over Danielle’s face.

"Being a good student, I see." Ellie observed, plopping down on the couch. Her thigh brushed against your right. You became painfully aware of her close proximity and wanted to do nothing more than sprawl out and lay your head in her lap. But Ellie wasn't the type for PDA, and you knew doing that probably wasn't appropriate anyways.

"I have an exam coming up." You sighed, glancing down at the bulky textbook in your lap. 

Your mind felt overloaded with facts. You didn't know how much longer you should study. It was important to take breaks and not over prepare; this was something that you were aware of. But your test-anxiety always caused you to stress over school material more than you should.

Ellie hummed, grabbing the textbook and closing it. "You look like you're going to pass out so enough of this." She set it on the coffee table a few feet away.

"I've been trying to stop her," Danielle interjected. "She gets paranoid during exams."

"Yeah, I know." Ellie chuckled, shooting you a small smile. 

"I can't afford to flunk anything." You countered. "I need to keep my grades up for my scholarship."

Ellie looked at you, gaze unwavering. "You're a smart girl. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Your mind swam at the compliment. You knew her words shouldn't hold much significance, but you couldn't help feeling slightly light headed whenever Ellie complimented you.

You forced your gaze away. Nervously, you played with the hem of your shorts, mouth pooling with saliva and heart hammering in your chest. What exactly should you say?

It felt silly to be so speechless.

"Well, I have to go." Danielle announced reluctantly.

"Are you sure?" Your eyebrows knitted together.

"Yeah, I have a crap ton of errands to run." Danielle began throwing her textbooks into her backpack. "I'll see ya later. And nice running into you again, Ellie." Danielle made a show of her departure. When she picked up her bag, she leaned over in a way that caused her cleavage to pour out of her shirt and for her ass to round in Ellie’s view. Her fingers wiggled as she waved at Ellie, eyelashes batting and smile coy.

You tried to contain your smile, seeing straight through Danielle’s ruse. If only you had as much confidence as her...

Soon, it was only you and Ellie on the couch. Ellie blinked in amusement, registering the pass that Danielle had openly made. She only met Nicole a handful of times and each encounter seemed to become more flirtatious than the last. Maybe if Ellie wasn't already interested in you, things would be different. But Danielle certainly wasn't you, and the simple reality was that you took up a considerable amount of Ellie’s heart. 

Meanwhile, you found yourself worrying about the opposite. Did Ellie like Danielle? Of course you didn't want to have these thoughts infiltrating your mind. But that was the problem with crushes; they caused you to overanalyze everything.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you blinked solemnly. Dread planted a seed in your gut, growing with each passing second.

Now, you were disappointed and even a bit sad.

Why couldn't you fall for people that returned your feelings?

~

"I did it." You mumbled, voice thick with disbelief, as you stared down at your phone screen. A bold 88% sat in front of you, causing your lips to pull into a proud smile.

A shocked exhale escaped your lips, eyes staring at the website that showed your final test scores—scores that you were incredibly proud of. 

Ellie shuffled beside you, pausing the TV show with a frown. Her heart jumped out of her chest as she continuously asked you, “What’s wrong,” yet received no reply. 

Did something bad happen?

"I did it." You parroted, this time a bit louder than before and with more confidence. A surprised laugh left you, breathy and short, as you willed yourself to hand Ellie your phone. "I aced all of my finals." You explained.

Slowly, her features morphed into realization. Her eyebrows shot up, a soft grin appearing as she dragged her green eyes to you. "That's great! I told you, didn't I?” Her grin widened. She swiped through your phone, glancing at a few more scores. “I’m so proud of you.”

Oh…

Fuck.

You shifted your weight. There was a sudden desire to leap forward and kiss her until you couldn't breathe. Your thighs clenched and your blinks were becoming rapid. You didn't know what to say without making it awkward—because you could never take compliments well—and also not wanting to make a fool of yourself. 

You laughed instead, trying your best to ignore your stuttering heart. Ellie tended to lay her compliments on thick, so you should be used to it by now. But you still stirred with delight nonetheless.

"I don't know. I mean, now that I think about it, not all of them are perfect scores."

"That doesn't matter. You should be proud of yourself. College is fucking hard." Ellie rubbed a palm against her forehead. "I always think about an alternate universe where I might have gone. But then again, I was never really passionate about dreadful schoolwork and the possible debt so who knows. Maybe it's best that I've taken a route like this."

You tried to picture Ellie in school, or at least a younger version of Ellie there. 

You smiled, "I think you would have done just fine." You admitted honestly. "The younger you probably would have liked the parties and sorority girls a little too much though."

"Yeah?" She laughed, eyes crinkling and laugh lines deepening. "What about me now?"

You paused, trying to filter through your thoughts. You hugged your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees as you hummed absentmindedly. Ellie thought you looked exceptionally cute while doing so.

“I could see you as an Engineering major. Or maybe Computer Science?" You observed. "....There's a few men I know with that major—kinda cocky, pompous, annoyingly charming and whatnot. You know....sort of like you."

"Hey!" She laughed breathlessly, slamming a pillow into your face.

"Don't take offense." You giggled. "I was just kidding about the charming part." 

“Fuck. You.” She laughed harder, ramming you with the pillow again. This time, more aggressive.

You stifled your cackles, biting down on your lip. Ellie found herself focusing on them, and how lovely it would be if she could kiss them. She wanted to lean forward and crash her lips against yours with bruising force, to make you squirm for air and cause your lips to swell. 

But she behaved herself, chewing the inside of her cheek instead.

Out of a state of pure adrenaline, you allowed yourself to say, "You're Ellie fucking Williams. You're way cooler than anyone that goes to my college."

"Except for you." Her lips stretched into a cheeky grin. Before she could stop herself, she brushed her forefinger against your chin endearingly. "You’re more brilliant than I’ll ever be."

“Very smooth.” You mused, rolling your eyes as you tried to shake off the compliment. But internally, your insides were knotting with agonizing pleasure.

~

You didn't usually do this.

You tried to deal with problems on your own. You tried to stay silent about them and fight through your emotions in silence. But you were tired of always being 'strong'.

You were tired of never asking for help.

Sometimes, you needed people to lean on. Sometimes, it was okay to let others comfort you. So this was why you showed up to Ellie's home late in the night. 

You suffered from insomnia. You always had it since childhood, and there were certain times throughout the year where it got really bad. It seemed to be exacerbated now since this was your fourth night going through hours without any true sleep.

Your heart was racing, overworked and tired from your lack of rest. A tightening began to form in your temples, alerting you that a migraine was about to creep up, and your eyes were dry. Your body moved languidly and with an alarming rate of exhaustion. You could sleep for eons if only you were given the chance.

You just wanted to be able to rest without a care in the world. To get through your day without terrible bags and heavy eyelids.

So when your clock struck 4am, your first instinct was to call Ellie. You didn't give yourself enough time to think about it or to even negotiate the consequences of calling her so early. 

It took her a while to answer, but when she did, her voice was thick and raspy.

Ellie sounded as if she’d just woken from a deep slumber; voice cracking and speech slow. "What is it?" She mumbled, exhaling softly.

Your brain was running a mile a minute as you talked to her.

"No, you're not a bother. It's okay, I promise it is." She reassured, interrupting your string of apologies. She talked to you for a little while longer, about everything and nothing at all, before she finally said, "Come over. You can sleep with me. Hopefully, it'll help…for tonight, at least."

You were hesitant. You didn't want to impose and it'd been a while since you and Ellie had slept in the same house.

But Ellie wasn't back down and with the passing seconds, she was becoming increasingly adamant about you coming to her. You finally gave in.

Fifteen minutes later, you were standing on her porch, opting for a knock instead of the jarring doorbell that you normally rang.

A few seconds passed before you heard the sounds of the bolts unlocking. Then the door was swinging open. Ellie stood before you, wearing boxers and a tank top. Her hair was messy and sticking in different directions, and her eyes were halfway closed.

"Hey." She whispered, stepping to the side and allowing you in. 

You were relieved to see her, finally feeling at ease for the first time in days.

That's what you loved about Ellie. Her presence always seemed to calm you.

Immediately, you slipped off your shoes, allowing her to grab your hand.

"I'm so tired." You replied, wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and stay asleep for eternity.

When you glanced at Ellie, you noticed the concern that filled her features. Her lips were pulled into a frown, faint worry lines becoming prevalent on her forehead. "I know." She sighed, not happy by her confession.

Ellie wished she could take away your struggles in times like these. You’d briefly opened up to her before about your insomnia. 

Silently, Ellie guided you through her house. The lights remained off, the pathway being illuminated by night lights and the glow of the moon. 

Your tongue was heavy in your mouth. You didn't have the energy to participate in conversation, especially if it was just empty words to fill the silence. You simply wanted to enjoy Ellie’s presence and the feeling of her firm grip around your hand.

You could sense that Ellie was exhausted too by her lack of communication. You felt bad for waking her up at such an ungodly hour, and made a mental note to thank her for everything. She truly was the best friend you ever had. 

~

A sigh escaped your mouth as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, rubbing your skin gingerly with a face wipe.

You tried to get all of the sleep out of your eyes, feeling a bit groggy from the deep slumber that you’d just woken up from. You were sitting on the carpet in front of Ellie’s full body mirror, trying not to look gross for the sake of sparing her eyes. You had just showered, wearing a pair of Ellie’s shirt and boxers, and tried not to become extremely giddy at the fact that you were wearing her clothes. 

But every few minutes, you would be reminded of it and your heart would perform a short dance break.

Even though this was simply another sleepover, it still caused a wave of excitement to fill you. You liked mornings like these; mornings with Ellie.

You rubbed your lips with chapstick, blinking lazily until something caught your attention.

Ellie was still in bed, trying not to be too obvious about watching you, who could easily pass for her girlfriend right now. She wanted to wake up next to you everyday.

She struggled to tear her gaze away from your face, whose eyes were glazed over and half closed. It was apparent that you were still adjusting to being awake.

This was a dream come true for Ellie. You just spent a night in her bed, and now you were wearing her clothes while getting ready in front of her mirror. You looked completely domesticated at this moment. 

Even though she knew it wasn't true, and that you didn't feel that way about her, it was still nice to pretend sometimes that you were hers. Especially during mornings like this.

You were so beautiful that it physically hurt her. 

"Did I do something wrong?" You grumbled, still a bit slighted due to waking up from such a good dream. You peered at Ellie through the mirror, noticing that she’d been observing you for quite some time now. A small part of you was thrilled and wanted to jump for joy. 

Right now, Ellie seemed to be completely transfixed with you and you were loving every single second of it.

But there was also a part of you that was growing self conscious. Ellie was in one of those moods again. The kind of mood that was slightly unnerving because she was picking apart every one of your features without shame. You knew that she probably didn't mean any harm by it, but Ellie wasn't aware of how intimidating her stare could truly be. 

"No." Ellie smiled. "You're just pretty."

You managed to hold her gaze for a few seconds longer. You felt like your breath had been ripped away from you. Goosebumps formed on your skin and a slight shiver ran down your spine.

"Yeah, well,” You cleared your throat, searching through your purse. “If you take a picture, it’ll last longer." You didn’t know what encouraged you to say the next part, but you chalked it up to the weird morning air that was lingering in the room. "....Actually, I’ll take some specifically for you. Since you like to stare." 

Ellie was aware that you were joking. But it still made her heart race. The image of you taking pictures for her burned into her brain. The context seemed to be pure on your end, but her thoughts traveled to a land of the filthiest scenarios. 

Ellie's lips parted, body washing over with a searing heat. Her hands itched to touch you, and ears longed to hear her name fall from your lips as well as a string of other sounds.

But this was completely inappropriate.

Here you were, looking as innocent as ever, and yet she was dreaming about some raunchy sex scene and tasteful photos of you.

Definitely inappropriate.

Your smile faltered at the weird expression that spread across Ellie’s face. You noticed the veins bulging through the skin of her arms as her hands clenched into fists. Her piercing gaze lingered on you unabashedly, landing on every inch of your features before returning back to your eyes.

You cleared your throat, feeling a warmth pool in between your thighs as you pulled at your shirt collar.

Shit. You were ruining Ellie’s boxers.

"I’ll hold you to that,” Ellie finally replied. “You just have to let me know when and where.”

You blinked in surprise as your lips pinched together, breath catching.

Did you just hear her correctly?

A second passes.

Then two.

Then three.

Ellie forced out a laugh, breaking the silence and trying not to cringe. Oops. Coming on a bit too strong. "Well, gee, don't look so excited." She’s such a fucking idiot. "I was just joking."

Your shoulders relaxed. You swallowed thickly, not failing to notice the aftertaste of disappointment. "Oh." 

Of course it was just a joke. How could you ever allow yourself to believe that Ellie would ever be remotely interested in you?

A small piece of your heart chipped away as you turned back to the mirror.

~

You didn't understand why Ellie was being like this.

You tried to ignore the sound of soft clicks and her pressing gaze. Instead, you busied yourself with socializing. Your toes were dipped in Ellie’s pool, sunglasses resting in your lap with a glass of wine in your hands. The water was heated to accommodate the weather and you were a bit too tipsy to slip into it altogether, but it did feel nice against your skin. Your eyes cut to Ellie who was holding an expensive camera. 

She focused on you without any shame, chewing her lip thoughtfully. She clicked away with the camera and captured countless candids. Ellie had a habit of doing this with other friends but she always wanted to specifically take photos of you.

There was a phase during Ellie’s adolescence when she was constantly capturing memories in a photo, and this hobby seemed to have trickled into the time that she now spent with her friends. She had taken numerous photos this past summer, which sat on her computer, ready to be edited and printed so it could be compiled into a scrapbook that would feed her nostalgia in future years.

But tonight was different, because she had never done this with you before. It held a different sentiment that didn't exist with others. Somehow, because of you, it made everything more intimate; more personal.

Ellie struggled with nimble fingers as she clicked a few more pictures, capturing the way you glanced over with surprised eyes and parted lips. 

"I'll be right back." You stammered, turning to Rachel. 

Rachel nodded knowingly while glancing at Ellie. "She can be a bit annoying with that thing—always trying to capture memories and whatnot."

You hummed in agreement, stepping out of the pool and standing to your feet. You kept your gaze locked on the floor as you made your way over to Ellie, not having the courage to meet her demanding gaze.

The chair scraped against the concrete as you pulled it out and sat in it. Silence filled the air, your thighs slightly trembling before you crossed your legs.

Ellie took this as an opportunity…

Click!

The sound broke the atmosphere, causing your head to snap up. Your jaw fell slack, before a fit of giggles escaped your lips. "Ellie!" You reprimanded, trying to reach forward and grab the camera.

She tutted her tongue, smiling ruefully. "Don't give me that look."

"You're being annoying!" You squealed. She was far from annoying. "...At least capture my good angles."

Ellie held the camera out of your grasp. "You always look good."

"You're supposed to say that, dummy. We're friends."

"Let’s be real,” Ellie muttered, sending you a level glance. “No matter the angle or time of day, you’d look fine.”

You puffed out your cheeks as you shook your head. You were averting your gaze, trying to suppress a smile—and failing. "You're really annoying." You grumbled, folding your arms across your chest.”You know that, right?”

Ellie grinned, bringing her camera back up to her face. She didn't say anything further.

The clicking resumed.

~

"Will you do the eyeliner?" Rachel asked, turning to you. "Brittany is calling me for something."

Your lips parted as you blinked in a drunken state. "I'm not good at makeu-"

But Rachel was already walking away, "Thanks so much!" And then she was shutting the door on her way out, leaving you and Ellie in the room.

You sighed, taking a sip of your wine before setting it down on Ellie’s bedroom dresser. Your eyelids felt heavy. You tried to walk but nearly tripped, forgetting that you had clunky heels attached to your feet. Groaning, you kneeled down to slip them off, almost toppling over.

A hand wrapped around your waist firmly, steadying you as you tried to gain your bearings. 

"Careful there." Ellie murmured, voice low. Her touch left a tingling sensation against your skin. 

You clenched your jaw, attempting to ignore your shudders as you stood upright.

Then you glanced down at Ellie, who was sitting in one of her chairs, peering back with amusement.

"You're drunk." Ellie analyzed. 

"You are too." 

She hummed. "Touché."

You reached over and grabbed a tube of liquid eyeliner. You didn't trust yourself to use a solid pencil; you had never done this before and didn't want to hurt Ellie.

"Just..." You breathed. "Try not to move or blink as much." You rested the ends of your palms against her temples before starting. Your hands trembled and the lines were nowhere near straight. You felt the urge to wipe it all off and start over. You remembered the dot technique that you learned years ago, but it almost felt too late to retry.

"Are you having fun?" Ellie asked. Her breath was cool. "Everyone seems to be warming up to y-Ow!"

Your heart stopped. You dropped the pen, allowing it to fall to the floor as you reached forward, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" You winced. 

Ellie’s eye was already beginning to bloodshot as it poured with instinctive tears.

"It's fine." She tried to reassure, squinting her eye shut.

"Clearly it's not." You frowned, dipping down closer. "I knew I shouldn't have done this. I'm really sorry." You blew on Ellie’s eye, trying to dry the teardrops and ease the pain. Why were you always screwing things up? A frown formed on your lips.

"Don't beat yourself up. It was just a few pokes. I'll be fine eventually." Ellie reassured. She fluttered her eyes open, trying to readjust to the throbbing pain and sudden silence.

You then noticed how close her face was. One simple move could cause her nose to brush against yours—could make your lips meet. The sparkle in Ellie’s eyes was undeniable. 

You didn’t think you’d ever been in such close proximity with your best friend. This was making your stomach turn.

Without thinking, Ellie grabbed a hold of your chin, acting on impulse. Her gaze narrowed to your lips. She grazed the lower one with her thumb, pressing gently; feeling your cool breath against the pad of her finger.

Your breathing faltered. You couldn't help but lean into her touch, sighing at the contact.

The both of your foreheads met, noses brushing and lips only millimeters apart.

Ellie’s other hand found its way to your hip. You complied immediately, straddling her in a way that left the both of your chests touching.

Your hands trembled nervously. You swallowed, "Are you going to kiss me?"

Ellie licked her lips, admiring how delicate you seemed in this moment. 

"I want to." There was a pause. "But it's best if we wait."

Your mind swarmed so much that you had to remind yourself to respond. "I guess you're right."

There's a lapse of silence.

One second passed. Then two.

Then three. 

By the fifth, you had noticed a slight shift in her expression. Her jaw was locked, nose flared and eyes fixed completely on you. She was restraining herself and you couldn't figure out why—you didn't allow yourself to accept the glaringly obvious reason.

You didn’t want to give into the false hope.

You couldn't.

You shouldn't…

Ellie was shaking her head.

Why the fuck was she shaking her head?

She was inching forward. Coming closer. Too close. Much too close.

“Ellie…” You whispered, eyes widening. 

She stopped, eyes trailing up to meet your stare. “I won't if you don't want me to.”

You swallowed, mouth dry. Your heart felt like it was in your throat, unprotected—entirely too vulnerable.

Her grip on your hips tightened, thumbs rubbing into the skin; reminding you that the ball was in your court. 

You leaned forward and closed the distance.

Ellie’s mind fell blank when your lips pressed against hers. She tried to ground herself—to remember how real this actually was.

It wasn’t a dream.

She melted when you sucked her bottom lip with expertise. Her blood rushed, toes curling at the exhilarating feeling of your mouth claiming her.

The kiss turned hungrier, becoming a mixture of heavy breathing and forceful tugs. 

Ellie's mind reeled at this position; the fact that you were in her lap and doing something that she never thought was possible. 

Her mind became hazy as her stomach pulled. Then, almost as if she had been slapped back into reality, you broke away, allowing you both to catch your breath.

It was quiet for a few moments as you came to a realization of what just happened.

You felt yourself sobering up, eyes widening in afterthought.

Ellie gazed back, heart hammering as she struggled to think of what to say.

Holy shit. 

Oh god.

Oh god.

She opened her mouth before closing it. She opened it once again, closing it seconds later in apprehension. Her hands fell from your waist, allowing you to stand with shaky legs. You blinked in bewilderment, trying to come to your senses. But it was a bit harder than usual after what had just occurred.

"I-" You stopped yourself, exhaling softly.

"We just..."

Her eyes kept zeroing in on your lips. Your soft, gentle lips. 

“Come back.” Ellie whispered.

You didn't have to be asked twice.

Without any hesitation, you were grabbing a hold of Ellie’s neck, leaning in for another kiss. It made the position a bit awkward, forcing you to bend down and hover slightly over her. But Ellie didn't mind. She didn't mind this at all…

Ellie relished in the sound of your delicate sighs. She loved the way that you were falling apart in front of her. She clinged to you tightly, pressing you further into her lap, which created the perfect amount of friction. She was determined to not let go. She didn't want to ever let go. 

You whimpered, allowing her to guide you as you grinded against her.

Her lips refocused on your neck, biting and licking softly as you cooed. It was becoming harder to breathe, harder to think soundly about everything that was happening. Wine drunk was one thing but this kind of intoxication was unreal. You were completely high off of Ellie.

Your mind reeled at this predicament—at the fact that you were in her lap, getting each other off in the most premature way possible. You felt like an adolescent who was stupidly hormonal with your girlfriend. But you couldn't complain, because it beat daydreaming about Ellie’s hands in your panties.

Your mind became hazy as a pressure in your gut built. Ellie’s hands, and Ellie’s lips, and Ellie’s smell, and Ellie’s breath.

Ellie.

You’re best friend, Ellie.

Your Ellie.

"Okay, I'm back! Sorry about that, I..." 

You breath hitched. You pulled away immediately as Rachel stormed into the room. Shit.

Ellie’s hand fell into her lap. She flushed at the sudden interruption, averting her gaze to the floor and cursing Rachel internally. Why did she always appear at the worst times?

"Oh!”  Rachel grinned, looking at the both of you with a smug expression. She laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

Ellie's jaw clenched. She cut her eyes to Rachel irritably, which caused Rachel to become even more amused.

“No,” You replied. “It’s—”

“Should I come back later?” Rachel added. Her grin had widened, voice thick with amusement. She was enjoying this a bit too much.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yes. You absolutely should fucking come back late-”

“It’s okay.” Your hands were trembling, an overwhelming sense of doom settling over you at the situation you were now in. “I was just leaving actually.”

“So soon?” Rachel raised an eyebrow. You ignored Ellie’s pressing gaze. “I don’t mind leaving-”

“That’s not necessary.” Your voice was breathy and rushed. 

Ellie called your name. You ignored her.

“I’ll see you guys later,” You added.

“Wait, are you sure?” Rachel sounded more alarmed now. “Seriously, I can step ou-”

But you didn't stay to hear any more, rushing out of the bedroom and away from Ellie as quickly as you could.

~

You didn't want to admit that you’d been avoiding Ellie. In all honesty, you usually were never the type to dismiss awkward situations. You liked to handle them immediately and move on with your life. But that wasn’t what you were doing now.

You spent a few days trying to process it all. You didn't think you were completely oblivious. You may have had your moments, but for the most part you liked to believe that you could pick up on romantic cues. So if you weren't mistaken, it almost seemed as if Ellie was interested in you. But you also weren't sure how to feel about it because the both of you were drinking, and alcohol could make you act like an entirely different person. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you stared at your phone, analyzing the text thread between you and Ellie for the nth time today. You missed her.

Going from consistent communication to none was a lot for you to deal with. But you just weren't sure you could handle a conversation with her right now.

You didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the friendship. So, needless to say, you’d been stressed about where the two of you stood.

After a few more agonizing seconds, you finally had the courage to turn your phone off.

You didn't need to be tormenting yourself like this.

~

Ellie missed you.

She missed your daily good morning messages and infectious laughter. She missed your dry humor and warm hugs.

She knew that she’d have to clear the air about what happened a few days ago. She understood that she shouldn't ignore what happened that night. It was just that she didn't want to talk about this yet. Not now. She wasn't ready.

She was still trying to process it all; how eager you were—the fact that you seemed to want the kiss as much as she did.

But Ellie also had to acknowledge the fact that you both were drunk. Hormones and alcohol can sometimes be the worst combination. 

Too many thoughts ran through her mind, leaving her groaning in frustration as she dragged her hands down her face.

She felt an urge to call you; to invite you over for dinner. To hold your hand and joke about whatever predictable soap opera you liked to watch.

But Ellie didn't do that. Instead, she grabbed her songbook and walked over to her guitar, beginning to play a melody on the strings that had been repeating in her head for days.

~

"Hey."

Your mouth felt dry as you shifted your weight, blinking at Ellie with expectant eyes. Like always, the both of you hugged before stepping back into Ellie’s house.

You slipped off your sandals immediately, arranging them neatly by the coat hanger before shrugging off your purse.

Ellie smiled at the small habit, already feeling her heart constrict despite being in your presence for less than five minutes. 

The television was on and playing one of your favorite Soap Operas. It helped relax your nerves. You plopped onto the couch and grabbed a blanket before wrapping it around yourself.

Ellie settled on a nearby cushion, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to think of a way to smoothly approach the conversation. She didn't want to scare you away or make you feel pressured during any of this.

Thankfully, you beat her to it.

You peered at her under your lashes, pleased to see that she was already staring at you. You pulled at your fingers, tangling and untangling them, as you grew the courage to say what was on your mind.

"I don't want to lose you as a friend." You started. Your gaze traveled down to Ellie’s lips, which triggered a distinctive memory of that night. Before your thoughts could get carried away, you blinked and diverted your gaze.

"I don't want that either." Ellie agreed.

"Right..." You nodded, clearing your throat. "Well, I know that we were drunk that night and we both value our friendship, so I'm hoping that we can..." You paused, not wanting to say this. 

But there was no other option. 

You had to.

"I think we should act like it never happened." Ignoring the way that Ellie stiffened, you shifted your weight. "And I hope we can still be close friends."

It pained you to come to this conclusion, but after debating for a few days, you felt like this was for the best. You didn't want to get your hopes up and ask for something more because what if Ellie didn't feel the same way? So it was better like this. No feelings would be hurt, and there wouldn't be a chance of ruining something great that you two already had.

Blood rushed in your ears as anticipation built up. You couldn't bring yourself to meet Ellie’s gaze, staring at the carpet instead.

"Um..." She hesitated. The silence was heartbreaking. Oh no.

Was she…

"Okay." Ellie’s voice cracked. She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the ache would replace the one in her chest. She wanted you to speak more, to change your mind—to do something. But that didn’t happen. 

You nodded, stunned and unsure of where to go from there.

Instead, Ellie just grumbled, "Fuck. Well..."

You blinked in frustration, already feeling the regret gnawing at your subconscious. “Is that okay with you?”

Ellie’s head snapped back up, eyes boring into yours. “Does it matter? You’ve already said that this is what you want.”

“I-I don’t know. I thought…” Your throat was tightening. “Is it not what you want?”

“I…” Ellie was tugging on her shirt collar, voice thin. Her face was becoming red—eyes swimming. Fuck. She looked like she was going to cry. “Look, I respect your boundaries. Thank you for telling me. I’m comfortable with staying friends.” 

A chilling realization was settling within you.

This wasn't the reaction you had anticipated.

This was the opposite.

You may have done more damage than you thought. “Ellie-”

“You're right. We shouldn't complicate things,” She tugged on her collar—harder this time. Your eyes widened at the discolored circular blotches on her neck. How on earth could you forget about any of this when your hickeys marked her skin? 

Your jaw clenched, mouth watering at the delicious memory that had been plaguing your mind since Saturday.

“It’ll be like it never happened,” Ellie finished, standing to her feet. 

You wanted to say something—to stop her. But the words were caught on your tongue, too heavy to leave your mouth.

Too risky. 

Ellie walked out of the living room without  saying anything further.

This was going to be harder than you originally thought.

~

"Shit." Danielle cursed, her features scrunching as she slapped the shot glass back on the table. She shuddered. "That's gross."

You chuckled, swiveling wine in your glass. Personally, You loved the taste of wine. You had champagne a few times as well and didn't mind the aftertaste that it left in your mouth. You believed that it's all about the type of alcohol that you choose. You weren't the type to like hard liquor, so you could understand where your friends' disgust came from. You preferred to keep your taste buds intact while you drank, hence the bottle of red that you ordered.

You were currently at a nightclub, deciding to let loose after a hard week of lectures. You felt a bit stressed. You had a group project that was due soon and you were currently the only one that seemed to be contributing. It had been making you tense and more crabby than usual. Which was exactly why Danielle brought you here.

"...Ellie and her friends showing up?" Danielle asked.

You shrugged. "I thought so. But she was supposed to be here an hour ago."

You also may have been bummed that you hadn't seen your best friend walk through the entrance doors. You’d been waiting all day to see Ellie. Excitement has been building in your gut along with anticipation. 

"Hm. Bummer. I was beginning to like your friend." Danielle sighed. "...Was even contemplating asking for her number."

You shoved your jealousy away with a chuckle.

It wasn't your place to say anything.

You told Ellie you wanted to stay friends.

You weren't allowed to be upset.

You busied yourself with people watching. The air loomed with the smell of sweat and smoke. 

This was an environment that you grew accustomed to during your early college days. Now that you were in the last year of your college career, you’d shifted to partying at your friends' homes. But you still thought it was nice to go out to a club every once in a while.

There was a specific woman that had been glancing at you for a while now. She was cute with a charming smile. Her eyes were kind, and she always seemed to spare a looks towards you while searching the club. You noticed that the girl was with a group of friends, leaning against the bar with one hand holding a beer and the other tucked in her pocket.

You knew that this woman went to the same university because she was wearing one of the student hoodie's. She was also sporting a pair of dark washed jeans and the sort of combat boots that were loud and clunky; scraping against the ground every time that she shifted her weight.

"That girl keeps staring at you." Danielle announced. "And she's cute."

You smiled, tearing your gaze away.

Yeah, she is.

But where the fuck was Ellie?

Danielle raised her hand, waving in the girl's direction to catch her attention.

Your smile dropped, eyes widening as you reached forward and smacked Danielle's hand away. "What are you doing? Are you kidding?"

"Count this as a favor. You two have been ogling each other all night. Oh, look! She's coming over. You're welcome."

Your jaw set. Then you glanced over your shoulder and noticed that the woman was, in fact, making her way over to you. You glared at Danielle coldly. Well, fuck.

Danielle took no offense, finding the entire situation amusing and laughing instead. "You'll thank me later."

You folded your arms across your chest, huffing. "I highly doubt that I will."

Danielle giggled, covering her mouth with her hand to stop a hiccup. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Hi." A voice interrupted. You looked up, facing the woman who had been staring at you all evening. She had an outstretched hand and a smile. "I'm Julia."

You took her hand, returning the grin and introducing yourself.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Julia turned out to be a sweet girl. She was a pre-law student and a year younger than you. She looked extremely pleased when she found out that you attended the same school.

"Do you stay on campus?" You asked.

Julia noded. "I do. And you?"

You shook your head no. "I have my own apartment."

Julia's eyebrows raised at that. "That must be nice. The dorms can be annoying with the partying and all." She made a funny expression.

You laughed. "Yeah, I bet."

The both of you talked about numerous things. During the brief pauses, you tried to ignore the suggestive glances that Danielle would send your way. She was purposely being obvious about her teasing, so it was only a matter of time before Julia would notice.

For the most part though, you surprisingly seemed to be enjoying yourself. There was a short lapse in your mind when you weren't thinking about Ellie—thank god—and just enjoying yourself. 

Because of this, you didn't notice Ellie’s arrival. You were too busy laughing at a story that Julia was recounting about your first week of college. 

But Ellie saw you immediately.

~

Ellie felt weird when she observed you laughing with another girl. There was a strong sense of jealousy that was present. Especially when you placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, throwing your head back slightly and laughing at whatever she was saying.

But she didn't want to be that person, not after the agreement you two made a few days ago, so she tried her best to behave. 

"She's over here." Rachel said, pointing in your direction.

Ellie had only brought a few friends, extending the invite after she asked you if it was okay. She ended up being late because Damien lost his dog. How he lost his pet, Ellie would never know, but after thoroughly searching and comforting a sobbing Damien, she found the poor poodle sleeping in the basement diner. 

Reluctantly, Ellie made her way over to your table. She really wanted to turn around and go back home, especially after seeing you look so cozy with someone else. But she knew that she couldn't, so she opted for lingering behind her friends instead.

You didn't notice Ellie’s presence at first, and was startled when Rachel surprised you with a hug.

"Long time, no see." Rachel grinned.

You let out a shaky laugh. "You scared me."

"Oh, sorry! We were calling you, but I guess you didn't hear."

Naturally, your gaze fell to everyone else. You said hi to Damien and Nina before peering at Ellie.

"You're here. Finally." You grinned. "What took you so long?"

Ellie noded in acknowledgment, lips holding a ghost of a smile. "We uh-"

"Who's this?" Rachel interrupted, wiggling her eyebrows as she tilted her chin towards Julia. Julia took that as her cue, holding out her hand with a smile. She gave her name, along with a few other pleasantries, to which Rachel nodded impressively.

"You're quite the charmer." Rachel stated.

Julia laughed. "I try."

You stood to your feet, allowing everyone to climb into the booth. You grew anxious when Ellie didn’t join, taking a seat across from you instead. 

Disappointed, you sat back down. It was odd to be facing Ellie directly while having Julia by your side.

Almost as if it was an instinct, you found yourself nudging Ellie’s leg. You grazed your foot against the inside of her ankle, leaning forward in hopes to grab her attention. She glanced at you momentarily, eyes softening before hooking your foot with hers.

Hi, you mouthed.

Ellie’s gaze lingered on your mouth, noticing the curve of your lips.

…Your lips.

You were wearing a shimmery lip gloss tonight. The kind that made your smile so beautiful that it physically hurt Ellie everytime she thought about it. 

Ellie didn't know what she was expecting tonight. She felt silly for not remembering the previous times you went clubbing with her—you loved dressing up on those kind of nights.

Ellie should have prepared her heart to better withstand your beauty. Because God were you beautiful. You were wearing one of those white summer dresses that hugged you just the right way and a pair of sandals. 

Suddenly, she felt silly for being jealous of Julia. Why wouldn't anyone want to be with you? It only made sense. 

Ellie was simply gutted that the lucky woman could never be her.

She wanted to scoop you away from here, to leave all of this behind. But she knew that wasn't possible, not after you both established remaining friends. Not after you admitted that you didn't have feelings for her.

"I heard you own some property in New York?" Danielle inquired, pulling Ellie out of her thoughts.

Ellie took this as her opportunity to look away from you, refocusing her gaze on Danielle, who was staring back with curious eyes. 

"Um," Ellie racked her thoughts for an acceptable answer, trying—and failing—to erase you out of their mind. "Yeah. I do."

Danielle was scooting dangerously close, sporting a shit-eating grin. "That's nice. I've never been to New York."

You rolled your eyes, gritting your teeth at the interaction.

"Do you want to dance?" Julia interjected.

You diverted your attention, growing hesitant.

You felt guilty for completely forgetting about Julia's presence. There was an impish twinkle in Julia's eyes that nearly caused you to grimace. The guilt multiplied. 

"I'm not..." You faltered, voice dropping into a whisper. "Julia, you're a nice person. But I don't think I'm necessary looking to be with anyone toni-"

Julia laughed, "It's just a dance. But it's completely okay if you don't want to."

As if on cue, Danielle laughed obnoxiously loud. 

Your pinky twitched. You were struggling to ignore the pressing thought of Ellie and Danielle. 

Feeling annoyed and slighted, you nodded, wanting to separate yourself from the table as soon as possible. "As long as it's just a dance." You replied.  "Then I'd love to."

Julia grinned.

~

You felt ridiculous.

Julia was with you on the dance floor and none of it felt as enjoyable as you initially thought it would be. Because Ellie was all you could think about.

Your mouth became dry and the heavy realization of it all threatened to come crashing down any second. So you turned to Julia, stating, "I'm going to get some water and head back to the table." You had to lean in closer than you would have liked, due to the loud music.

"What?" Julia frowned, not hearing you.

"I should head back to the table!" You repeated, jutting your thumb behind you in the direction of your friends.

Julia's features morphed into realization and she nodded. It was almost as if it all dawned on her at that moment that you weren't enjoying herself. "Well, it was nice meeting you." She concluded, with a wink and warm smile, "I think I'll head back over to my friends anyway. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“You too.” You nodded, sighing in relief.

“And you should tell her how you feel,” Julia added.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Who?”

“Your friend…back at the table.” Her head tilted in the general direction of where Ellie was. “The one you can't keep your eyes off of.”

Your breath hitched, hairs standing on the back of your neck at Julia’s exposé. You opened your mouth to reply, but she was already giving you a goodbye hug. Then she shoved past a group of people to make it to her own destination, leaving you alone on the dance floor. 

Subconsciously, you walked over to the outside bar, sitting down on one of the stools and ordering a water.

While the bartender grabbed your drink, you tried to allow your muscles to relax in the stillness of the night. Faintly, you could hear the booming bass from the music inside. But besides that, it was far more quiet.

Your eyes stung as memories of tonight's shit show replayed in your mind.

You were kind of mad at Danielle.

In actuality, you knew that you didn't have much of a reason to be upset with her. You hadn't told any of your friends what happened between you and Ellie, or even admitted to them that you had feelings for her. It wasn't Danielle’s fault for not knowing where you stood with it all. It was on you—which made you more frustrated. Danielle was a pretty decent human and would never go after Ellie if she knew how truly you felt. You were just projecting your anger because deep down, you were mad at yourself.

Your reverie was broken when a hand slipped around your waist, lips brushing against your temple and whispering, "Where did that girl go?" It was Ellie.

"What girl?" You asked, playing stupid. You pursed your lips, not bothering to face her. 

You didn't want to admit it but you were also upset with Ellie. You couldn't erase the image of Danielle flirting with her out of your mind. It infuriated you.

You and Ellie were just friends, it was something that you both agreed to. Ellie could do whatever she wanted with whoever she wanted. But it still didn't make you any less upset. Because you were jealous, and that's what jealousy did to people sometimes.

"You know who.”

You frowned. "Go back to flirting with Danielle."

There was a hesitancy before she mumbled, "Are you like, upset with me or something?"

You rolled your eyes, guilt and shame and all things bad bubbling up inside of you. "Just go, El."

You knew you were pushing her away—this wasn't fair.

You weren't being fair.

But you needed her to go away before you say something you regret; before you ruin things.

Fingers wrapped around your elbow gingerly, dragging you off the stool and away from the bar. Ellie brought you over to a more discreet section of the patio, away from wandering eyes and eavesdropping bartenders. Once you both were a considerable distance from surrounding people, she let go of you.

With each passing second, her shoulders began to deflate more. She was drinking in your features with worry lines in her forehead. Then she was sighing, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Her eyes shut momentarily, but she didn't say anything more, hesitant to address the elephant in the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek, tearing your gaze away from her as your mind swarmed with countless apologizes. You should be saying many of them right now. But your tongue stayed planted in your mouth as the hammering of your heart kept you from uttering the words.

When you glanced back at Ellie, you noticed that her eyes had opened.

"Don't do this." She muttered. Her eyes were overwhelmingly vulnerable. "You don't get to do this. Not after saying you wanted to be friends."

I lied, You wanted to reply. I thought you wouldn't feel the same so I got scared. I chickened out. I ran.

But you couldn’t say anything. 

Ellie’s shoulders were rising and falling more sporadically as time passed by. It looked as if she was trying to catch her breath, eyes never failing to leave your face. There's a hint of panic in the way that she was observing you…searching for an unknown answer. Her mouth opened—an attempt to break the painful silence that was brewing—before she clamped her lips shut, rolling them inwards. 

You watched her step back as she ran her hands through her hair.

“I don't want to play games with you.” She confessed. Her voice sounded unnatural to your ears. Strained. "I deserve better than that."

You shifted your weight, growing uneasy by the way your muscles were screaming to step closer to her. You wanted to tell her about the way your soul yearned for her.

But you were scared.

So fucking scared.

Your mouth betrayed your wish. Instead, they formed to utter, “I understand,” and nothing more.

Ellie swallowed audibly and the lines above her brows deepened. You could hear the instability of her inhales as she looked at you with a question in her gaze.

“That’s all you have to say?”

It was far too devastating to hold her stare. You made yourself look away. “I...”

Ellie inspected you with such intensity that you practically felt your face melting off. 

She didn't speak and she didn't move.

The whistle of the wind was the only distraction from the agony nestling inside your heart. Your eyes began to sting, lump lodging in your throat in a way that made it unbearable to speak.

You tried to listen to the chirping of crickets; anything to convince you that staying silent was the better option—the only option.

But then Ellie took a step forward and your resolve cracked instantly. Before you could stop yourself, the smallest sliver of vulnerability urged you to look into her eyes.

She was beginning to notice your inability to hold a proper conversation and took another step closer.

“God, you're so…” This time, she was quieter. “I can never understand you.”

You swallowed thickly. “Ellie…”

She looked down, pressing the heel of her combat boot into the tile floor. In doing so, she rocked her weight backwards and then forward. The motion of unrest caused her cologne to waft towards you.

It'd been a while since you’d seen her so ungathered. 

“Listen,”  She said. The sound of it vibrated low and powerfully. It sparked a part of your soul to jump. “I lied. I can't just be friends with you.”

You took a step back.

She took another step towards you.

“What?” You faltered.

“You heard me.” Unshed tears pooled into her green eyes. “I’m telling you that I need you. In every sense. Does that hold any significance for you?”

You found interest in the buttons of her tan button up, forcing away the part of yourself that welcomed her confession. 

You were struggling to fully understand her. Your hands trembled.

“Will you look at me?” She urged.

You could only bear to keep your gaze on her shirt. 

A thumb came in contact with your lower lip. It was a slight graze but managed to leave a trail of fire in its wake. The rest of her fingers soon followed, brushing along your jawline before tucking underneath your chin. She nudged you to lift your head, willing you to peer at her. 

She was so painfully close. 

“You can't say stuff like that,” Was your response.

“Why can't I?”

Because you were scared. Because you didn't deserve her. Because you had already hurt her—already ruined everything. “Because I’ll want you back. And I can't want you. Because…” You exhaled shakily. “I can't risk the possibility of losing you altogether if this were to end badly.”

Ellie sighed softly, squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds. 

“Our friendship is something I’d never want to ruin. It's safe and it's what we know.” You continued. “Why risk losing you to feelings that I wasn't sure you even reciprocated? How could I live with myself if I ruined everything by telling you how I really felt?”

Ellie’s eyes opened, her cheeks beginning to flush pink. "Oh. That's not..." Her expression had transformed into a mixture of understanding and something strange. “Baby-"

Her other hand managed to find its place at the nape of your neck. Your knees buckled at the pet name.

“You could never lose me.” She added. Her thumb caressed the apples of your cheeks. Those words alone caused you to become completely undone. 

You felt like your lungs could finally break open from their cage. Your exhale was heavy, delight crashing into you like tide waves.

It was too wonderful to believe.

“You drive me mad, you know.” Ellie continued, sucking in a breath. “I want you, all of you, everyday. I have never ached to be near anyone so much until I met you. I can accept it if you still want to stay friends after this. If that's truly your wish, then so be it. But I had to tell you. I couldn't let you walk away tonight without letting you know that I’m deeply, desperately, in love with you.” Her lips trembled. “You're so scared about losing me, but have you ever thought that I’ve been feeling the same? I fucking need you.”

Tears began to stream down your cheeks. You soon realized that you were trembling because you were crying. 

Without any more reservation, you allowed yourself to grip both of her forearms; mostly to steady yourself but to also have another semblance of closeness to her.

“Tell me again.” Your voice was nothing but a warble. You sniffed, tightening your grip around her forearms in hopes to stay grounded in what seemed like a cruel sweet dream. It didn't matter that you were at a bar, outside of a nightclub that was full of rowdy college students. It didn't matter that your friends were probably wondering where the hell you and Ellie disappeared to. The only thing that matter was Ellie. Your Ellie. “...Tell me that you love me.”

Ellie’s features softened. A tear spilled from her eye, trickling down her cheek. She managed to scan every inch of your face, a slow smile curling onto her lips. “I love you.”

The sound that came out of you was an ugly combination of a sob and laugh. 

Ellie swallowed thickly, wetting her lips as she unabashedly looked directly into you. “I’m asking you to give us a try. To give us a real chance.”

All of your doubts crumbled and was replaced with a fiery certainty.

“Ellie, I love you.” Your voice trembled with thick emotion. “Of course I will. I’ve just been so scared, I thought it would be better for us to-”

Before you knew it, Ellie was leaning forward and crashing her lips onto yours. 

You sighed at the contact, gripping both sides of her face feverishly. Her chest pressed against yours, causing a gasp to escape you.

Kissing Ellie was effortlessly sweet. She was gentle and passionate, yet able to exhibit incredible vigor that made your stomach flutter. Her hands traveled away from your cheeks, bunching into the material of your dress and holding you with immense regard. 

And just when you felt as if you were about to burst, she became agonizingly tender. Your mind buzzed at the feeling of her lips; it was like floating weightlessly in water. You longed to give her more of you; even though it couldn't be possible to give her any more than what she already had. 

Then she pulled away. You noticed that you two had quickly fell into a rhythm of panting, catching your breath from the sublime moment that you had just shared. 

Ellie wiped your last few tears and kissed you again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again. 

Until you knew for certain in your heart, that there was no other place in the universe that you were meant to be. 

#au writing #fanfic #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x reader #ellie x you #tlou2 fanfic #ellie tlou2 #college #piscespetals writing #ruin the friendship #friends to eventual lovers #besties #fluff #light angst #gayyyyyy #mutual pining

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part three here

content: gay pinning, fluff, smut

work count: 7k

thanks for waiting! i hope you enjoy <3

Chapter Four

By the time Sevika returns, you’ve already showered, painted your nails and returned to bed.

Your body is in a lot of pain, which means that you have to take more time than usual to complete these tasks. It’s when you’re back under your duvet and taking some pain medication that you hear the apartment door open. 

There’s shuffling and multiple footsteps, surely from Monica and Sevika. So you crane your neck (which is surprisingly painful) in an attempt to hear them better. But you can't.

A few moments pass of quiet murmuring and then the pair of footsteps sound again. This time they pass by your bedroom. The apartment door opens and closes. And you hear the bolt slide shut.

Your find that your muscles begin to tremble from tensing so much, and your neck holds a dull ache from the way that you're lifting it off of the pillow. You exhale slowly, relaxing into the billows and soft cushioning that your bed provides. Everything will be okay. 

You know that Sevika is making her way towards you before it even happens. That pull within you…that incredible burn that won't seem to go away–No matter how much you will it to—only grows stronger. For her.

So when your door knob twists, and the wooden door creaks open, you expect it. She stands there before you, eyes rimmed red and puffy, sniffling quietly with hardened lines almost everywhere on her face. A frown—one simple expression that would probably scare others away—is what you notice the most. A telltale sign of her distress; the ultimate reason for your worry.

Silently, she walks into your room, boots clanking loudly against the floorboards. Her feet drag, as if her conversation with Monica has been the most exhausting activity of the day, despite it only being Noon. 

Your duvet not only keeps you warm, but keeps you from getting out of bed. It keeps you from going against your better judgment, and it listens to the ache of your strained muscles from the accident of the previous day. 

Sevika still remains in her coat, even though it’s considerably warm in your room. It doesn't seem like she’s given herself much time to get settled, with her boots still on as well as her coat, and her car keys being clutched tightly in her hand. 

She sits in your bed with careful consideration, even though the air around her stirs with unease. As if she’s afraid to break your bed—as if she’s afraid to startle you. 

Her grey irises watch you just as carefully. They hold the same glimmer as yesterday evening when you found her in the hospital waiting room; the same soul-crushing tenderness.

“Why?” You ask. You wince as you try to sit up against your headboard. That alarms her. “I’m okay,” You reassure. “I’m just…” You wince once more. “A little sore. Nothing the doctor didn't warn me about.”

“Did you take your medication?”

You nod, “A while ago.” 

You probably should've taken a heavier dosage, but you know that either way, you’d still feel a little pain. 

“Okay,” She nods, accepting your answer with furrowing brows. She swallows thickly, eyes leaving yours and darting towards the covers of your bed. They stay there as she remains deep in thought. You watch silently. 

“So,” She continues.

A small smile graces your lips. “So…” 

Her tongue darts out and brushes against her lower lip swiftly. You try not to follow the movement too closely, but you’d be silly to act like it doesn’t affect you.

“I broke up with her.”

You give her a small nod. “I heard.”

“She didn’t take it well.”

“I figured.”

Another lapse of silence filters into the conversation. 

“You can always talk to me, you know.” You continue to watch her, despite the fact that she’s currently avoiding your gaze. “Even if it may be a hard conversation…I just want you to be comfortable.” 

“Hmm.” Sevika seems to be far away–mentally.

You don’t know how to bring her back to the present. Back to you.

“Did you know–” Her voice breaks and eyes dart to you. “I was married at one point.”

Your mind swarms. Suddenly, you're pushed back to last week, when Mel accidentally revealed Sevika’s divorce to you. It was a shocking secret to be told. But you felt guilty being told such a thing. So you desperately tried to store it in a place in your brain where it would be easily forgettable.

Until now.

“What am I saying–Of course you know.” She mumbles. It’s quieter. Almost an afterthought. “Mel called me and explained that she had accidentally told you. At first, I was upset. But I realized that she told…you, of all people. You would understand. You always do.” She presses her left palm into the duvet, leaning nearly all of her weight on it. “So I waited for you.” Her eyes lift to yours. Your breath catches. “...To say something,” She rushes. Oh. Clearing her throat, “I waited for you to bring it up. But you never did.” She looks at you like she’s never seen you before, registering every detail of your face with a sense of wonder. “Why?” 

You look back with slight confusion because the answer feels obvious. At least for you it does. “When I find out information like that, I want it to be because you’ve told me. And if it hasn’t come from you, then it's not my place to know.”

“I would have told you–”

“Sev,” Your hand lands on hers. Her skin feels soft underneath yours. “I love learning new things about you because I know how you are. Opening up doesn’t come easy for you. But you’re not entitled to me. So I’m happy to experience whatever parts of yourself that you’re willing to share. And if that means that it takes you a while to tell me things like this,” You shrug, squeezing her hand. “Then it takes you a while. I’m okay with that. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, of course you aren’t. You’re bedridden.”

“Oh god.”

She laughs. 

Her hand twitches underneath yours, knuckles grazing the inner parts of your palm. “My wife and I were together for 12 years.” She starts again. “We got married young, and for a long while, things were good.” She peers out of your window, her brown study returning. “But we grew up–we changed. She wanted kids and a life outside of my parents house. She didn’t like that we had moved. She didn’t like the town. She missed the city. She missed our old way of things. And my parent’s death…Well, I’ve always believed that it was the beginning of our end. Our trajectory of life stopped coinciding. That made me angry. I had lost my parents. I had lost my current life; the comfort of routines and traditions that I had made. And now I was losing her too. That felt–” Her lips press into a thin line. “I don’t think I had ever felt so hollow before then.”

It’s almost as if the light that consistently hovers above her is now dimmed. You try to imagine a Sevika that isn’t full of life. 

A Sevika that doesn’t find even the tiniest bits of happiness in the most mundane activities. A joyless Sevika who doesn’t find humor in your cooking failures and embarrassing childhood stories. A Sevika who you do not know–who is so different from the one that sits before you today. It’s nearly unfathomable. 

“I tried to make things right but it just wasn’t working. Living in my parents house was too much. And even more so after the divorce. Too many memories. Too many emotions. The town…Well, there was a reason that I originally moved away from there in the first place. She had moved across the country anyways, and hadn’t looked back after our papers were finalized. I wanted a fresh start too. So I sold my parents' home, packed up and flew back here.”

Somehow, while she was talking, her fingers had become entwined with yours. For a moment, you believe that you feel her pulse. It’s racing. 

You feel boneless from the realization.

You want to open your mouth and ask her if she’s alright, but a part of you also doesn't want to push her too quickly. 

“When Mel and Alicia told me about you, that you were looking for a roommate,” She wets her lips again. “They had given me all these warnings about you. How particular you are about things. That you’re easily…perturbed. And slightly immature. And a bit odd.” 

You scoff, ready to object and fume at the thought of them doing such a thing. But she only regards you with a warm chuckle and smile.

“And,” She adds quickly. “I was a bit thrown off at first. But I also knew that there was a reason they were recommending you to me. And when I met you, it clicked. It just made sense. That feeling of being empty,” Her hands grip yours tighter. “It was gone the first time I saw you. And I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you. Everytime that I breathe the same air as you–everyday that passes with you in my life. That's not…that's not normal. It wasn't my normal, at least.”

Something inside of you breaks. 

“And the fact that we were becoming friends, and that we lived together?” She continues. “It felt dangerous. Seeing you that much, being near you that much, and wanting to have more of that. While also not not wanting to ruin things…” You can tell that she’s struggling to vocalize her thoughts in a comprehensible manner. It almost feels as if she wants to say so many things at once. “Then I met Monica. And that was good. That was safer. Because she’s great, and I liked her, and she was familiar...You know? Being with her didn't make me want. It didn't fill me up, not like you…And I needed that. I needed…” Her words hang in the air as she tries to reach for a further grasp of her feelings. 

“God, am I making any sense?” She turns back to you, eyes completely blown out now. You’ve never seen her so desperate... She doesn't wait for you to answer. “But then I realized that I wasn't being fair to myself. That I couldn't keep restraining myself. And not to say that I was unhappy with Monica. But she wasn't you. It's you that pulls it out of me. That makes me feel. That annoys me like no other yet manages to weave yourself into the innermost parts of myself.”

For a few seconds, the world stops spinning. And you're just a person, who’s staring back at another beautiful person, feeling seen for the first time ever in your life.

Because she gets it.

Because it’s exactly how you’ve felt ever since she came barging into your life.

You want to speak, but your voice is trapped at the back of your throat. 

“I don’t expect for you to respond or for anything to change. It’s probably best that things don’t for now.” Her head is shaking, eyes downcast at your entwined hands. “I just wanted to explain it to you.”

And that’s what really cuts through to you. 

Sevika isn’t the type of person to be impulsive. In fact, there’s been multiple times when her constant state of contemplation has annoyed you. So this is particularly out of character for her; to break up with Monica out of nowhere and confess said feelings. 

You want to welcome it. But she’s right. This can’t happen. Not yet.  

You’re smacked again with the reality of today, and you feel as if you’re experiencing a kind of vertigo. Sevika senses it.

Gently, she stands to her feet, careful not to rock your bed unnecessarily.

“You should rest.” 

You don’t object. Instead, you nod, wanting to do nothing more than take a nap and hopefully wake up with a lighter weight on your shoulders. Fatigue floods you without warning. 

“Okay,” You mumble, allowing your body to snuggle deeper into the blankets.

It’s only when she’s halfway through the door threshold that she pauses, peering at you over her shoulder to say, “If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room.”

The reminder brings you more comfort than you realize. Enough comfort, in fact, that you finally let yourself drift off into a peaceful slumber.

“I’m just glad you weren’t seriously hurt,” Vander mumbles. His voice is muffled as he takes a bite of his steak. He sits in the seat across from you, mouth almost fully covered by the remarkable amount of facial hair he’s managed to grow since you last saw him. But his eyes speak a thousand words. They gleam with a hint of sorrow. And for a few seconds, you watch as they glide over to Sevika, growing even more delicate before returning to you. “You're the only one who laughs at my jokes.”

You smile, swirling your spoon through the contents of food left in your bowl. 

Your left leg is draped over your right, which is something that pained you to do a few days ago. You’re glad to finally be able to sit at the dinner table. The bruises from the airbag and seat belt are slowly beginning to heal. And for the first time in three days, you aren’t confined to your bed watching old reruns of The Nanny. The moment you were able to walk across your room without wincing too badly, you asked Sevika to invite Vander and Hazel over for lunch. It would be something to look forward to, since you have yet to be cleared for your return to work. Plus, you really like them.

“Because,” Hazel interjects. “Your jokes are terrible.”

“They’re a little outdated…” He rolls his eyes. “But they-”

“People like them because they’re entirely unfunny.” She continues. “It’s like seeing an ugly sweater and thinking, God. This is so fucking ugly…I love it.”

A belly laugh leaves you. The kind that nearly has you keeling over with a gummy smile. 

In doing so, your socked foot accidentally bumps into one of Sevika’s shins. She’s sitting beside you, eating her food quietly with annoyingly perfect table manners. Her cologne wafts towards you for a split second and it’s crisp. And spicy. And enticingly bitter-sweet.

Her chain necklace clashes against the silver pendant that is also hanging from her neck. And her palm settles onto your knee; fingers spreading firmly against the material of your leggings with incredible sensitivity.

“Sorry,” You mumble. 

“You’re good.” But her hand doesn’t retract its touch. Instead, her thumb works into the side of your leg, motions circular.  You don't think you've ever been so high off of a simple touch.

Even when she pulls away, your fingers hold your spoon with a death grip and your knee tingles.

Later on, when Hazel and Vander are long gone, a sense of comfort washes over you.

Seconds before Sevika begins to wash the dishes, she brings a chair into the kitchen for you to sit in. 

“That way, you can annoy me while I clean,” She mumbles, eyes downcast towards the sink. You know that it’s just an excuse for you two to be near each other. You don’t mind.

You observe her in the peaceful hush of the evening. She has an odd habit of insisting to wash the dishes herself, even though the dishwasher works perfectly fine. You usually don’t object, since Sevika always seems to take extra joy in domestic activities. But you don’t believe that you’ve fully appreciated it until now.

She stands over the sink with the sleeves of her flannel shirt rolled up to her elbows. Her hair has gotten longer, practically touching her shoulders now, and a few wispy strands get in the way of her face. She seems entirely pure right then–forehead creasing with effort and lips pursing in concentration. There’s only the sound of the running water and your racing heart. An emotion close to something deeply reverential fills you.

You’re wrapped up in one of her spare quilts that she’s given you. It smells like her. It feels like she couldn’t be any closer to you. And you feel silly for being so moved by a simple gesture. It shouldn’t feel so intimate. It shouldn’t mean so much to you. But it does.

She glances up at you briefly, almost to check as if you’re still there. And when your eyes lock, you tighten your hold on the quilt. She’s caught you staring.

But you don’t think you have the bandwidth to be able to say anything on the matter. 

Of course, Sevika has caught you staring at her countless times before.

But for some reason, this time holds meaning. It has weight, and it feels like solid ground has been placed underneath you. The two of you idle that way for a while. Sevika ignores the running water and her soapy hands. 

You’re reminded of the moment, days prior, when she sat on your bed and confessed the unfathomable to you:

I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you.

That sentence rings through your brain so hard that you feel as if your skull rattles. 

It's not until you’re sure every one of your bones will break, when she looks away. She resumes her task of dish cleaning and you hover on your stool, struggling to find something more to say. 

Mel shivers besides you, wrapping one of your spare blankets around her tightly as she exhales loudly. The two of you are now outside, right in front of the apartment.

You stand much more still, wrapped in multiple layers and a scarf, and hands warm due to the mittens that Sevika gifted you a while back.

“Is it really necessary to wait for her out here?” Mel grumbles. “I’ll turn into ice soon.”

“She’s just a few minutes away.” You crane your neck to look at her levelly. “I told you to stay inside, Mel.”

“And let you wait out here in the dark by yourself?” She frowns, shivering once more.

The leaves rustle in the howling wind, and the night sky is so black that it almost looks dark blue in the moonlight. It’s getting to the time of year where sunsets are occurring sooner. Days are shortening and the weather is incredibly cold. Usually, you find this season a bit hard to enjoy. But Sevika does a good job of keeping the fireplace lit. She has a special recipe of soup that is always ready if you want some and she keeps the storage closet stocked with clean quilts in case you get cold at night. She looks after you more than you do yourself sometimes.

You’re starting to believe that this time of year isn't so bad after all.

“Do you always wait for her out here?” Mel asks. Her voice has grown quieter; tender. You glance at her out of the corner of your eye and you find that she’s gazing at you inquisitively. There’s something about this question that makes you want to shrink a little. 

You don’t have the courage to meet her gaze full-on.

“Only if she needs help carrying things.”

“And…she doesn’t mind?”

“I think it took her by surprise at first. She would insist that I stay inside and that she doesn’t need help. But, I would feel bad and still help. I guess now,” You shrug. “It’s just become…a thing.”

You feel like you’re being interrogated.

Sure, Mel has been over since she moved out. But you guess she’s never visited long enough to really see how you and Sevika live. 

It makes you feel anxious. Is there something bizarre about your livelihood now? It’s different from the routines that you and Mel had, but it’s not bad… right? Why does she keep grinning like that?

As if on cue, the blinding bright lights of Sevika’s vehicle appears. 

“Finally.” Mel grumbles.

You bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile while the black truck grows near. You squint from the headlights, which Sevika turns off almost immediately. Then you’re walking towards the driver's door.

She grins, per usual, through the tinted window. Her full lips are stretched wide tonight, showing a breathtaking smile, as she opens the door and hops down with ease.

“You’re crazy.” She mutters. But her smile remains. “You didn’t have to wait out here in the cold. You’ll get sick.”

“I’m warm.”

“You’re sniffling.” She sends you a narrow glance as she opens the back door and reaches for her work bag. 

“Where’s the food?”

“On the other side. I figured I could grab i–” She pauses as you walk around the vehicle and open the passenger door. Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

“You didn’t…”

“I was hoping to surprise you.” She calls. 

“You…” Coherent sentences fail to leave your lips as you reach for the oversized paper-brown bag sitting in the seat.

It’s from one of your favorite restaurants, a small shop that usually is open seasonally. You were waiting for it to re-open this year, and have been counting down the days to drive down and place your favorite order. It’s something that you’ve mentioned to Sevika only a few times, but you never thought she would be able to remember it. And with everything that has happened lately, you certainly hadn’t thought that she would go out of her way to find the place. 

The truck is too large for you to be able to see her face. So you grab the food and close the door, walking around the front of the truck to see her and Mel talking to each other quietly.

“You didn’t have to get this.” You say, hugging the food to your chest. It’s warm.

Mel whispers something to Sevika as the latter turns back to you. She looks cozy at that moment. Her trench coat is black and she’s wearing a creme beanie, which appears to be keeping her ears warm. You watch as she pushes her tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of her nose and purses her lips. 

Her lips.

They look moisturized. There’s a slight gleam to them, a telltale sign that she’s applied more lip balm, and they seem puffier than normal. As if she’s been chewing on them...

She surveys you from head to toe, zeroing in on the mittens that you’re wearing before she hums underneath her breath. 

“I wanted to.” She replies.

Your chest constricts. Your eyelids flutter and a sigh escapes.

Mel clears her throat. “Can you two pause the flirting so we go inside? I’m freezing my ass off!"

She doesn’t wait for a response.

Instead, she snickers at the way your eyes widen before running past you and towards the apartment. 

You're bundled up wordlessly on the couch, cookies in hand as you watch Sevika bolt into the living room with a spatula.

Hazel cheers from the recliner, and Vander sits only a few feet away from you. He also stands to his feet, face reddening as his hands clench into fists. All three pairs of eyes are glued to the television screen, and your ears ring once more as your friends let out rounds of applause. 

“They're trying for another one?” Sevika asks, voice full of mirth. 

Vander doesn't break his gaze away from the screen when he answers, “They have enough time to do it. I wouldn't be surprised!”

It's another football Sunday.

You don't follow sports closely so you can't exactly say that you understand the intricacies of what they're talking about. But you can guess that their team is winning by the ridiculous grin on Sevika’s face. She’s supposed to be making lunch, but she keeps returning from the kitchen to get an update on the score. You think it's a funny sight to see, considering the fact that there's a television in the kitchen where she can watch the game. But it’s probably more enjoyable to be viewing it with everyone else.

“Who’s the goalie again?” You ask, hoping to get a reaction out of Sevika. She doesn't particularly enjoy when you fuck up the football terminology. The first few times it was accidental. Now you just do it because you know it'll get a rise out of her.

“Sweetheart…” She doesn't look at you, turning on her heels to walk back to the kitchen. Despite the pet name, you see the slight shake of her head, and there's also a buried layer of tightness in her voice.

It takes all of your strength to refrain from laughing. “It's only a question!”

“Do you not remember my answer from the last dozen times you’ve asked this?” Her voice reverberates off the kitchen walls and travels to where you are in the living room. Before you can reply, Hazel and Vander jump out of their seat again, this time screeching unbearably loud.

“That was a fucking foul!” Hazel’s eyes are deadly as they glare at the screen. Vander's jaw begins to grind.

You hear the sound of footsteps before Sevika appears again, this time with frazzled eyes and a towel draped over her shoulder. 

“What happened?”

You swing your leg at the very last minute, muscles tensing as your eyes widen towards the spill before you. “Shit!”

Then you’re laughing at yourself, nearly causing another spill from your piping hot mug of tea. 

“Oh god.” Mel grumbles but you can hear a smile in her tone. “What have you done now?”

Another giggle leaves you. “I can’t walk without spilling apparently.”

Within seconds, Mel is already wiping the tile floor with a clean towel. 

“Have I told you how much I love you?” You profess, making your way towards her sitting room. You’re visiting the house that she and Alicia have just recently purchased. It’s a bit ostentatious for your liking. But it’s everything that Mel deserves. A part of you even believes that she’ll forever deserve so much more–an entire kingdom of her own if she truly desires.

“Of course!” She croons. “Every time I help you with your messes.”

“....I wouldn’t say every time.”

Her hand slides to your lower back, guiding you towards the nearest piece of furniture. Even though the accident was a a few weeks ago, she still treats you as if you’re susceptible to breaking at any moment. It’s been a little suffocating. But you’re still grateful for her nonetheless. 

“Is that a new sweater?” She asks while you sit down. Your gaze falls to the crew neck that you’re wearing, a strong whiff of cologne filling your nostrils. 

“Oh. No.” You tug at the collar. “It's Sev’s.”

Silence looms in the air as you anxiously wait for her response. This is a new development. It's not often that you're walking around with Sevika's articles of clothing. 

But Mel’s response never comes. When you peer at her, she regards you with gentle eyes and lips that slowly curve. She says nothing more on the subject.

Instead, she hands you the bowl of fresh soup she’s just made. “It's hot. Be careful.”

Of course you don't listen and burn your tongue upon the first sip.

And, as always, Mel scolds you.

And then she helps you.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t stressed out.

Between handling the car repairs from the accident and updating the insurance claim, as well as the weird energy now circling you and Sevika—everything just seems to be a little too much right now.

The first mishap is when Sevika comes home from work to find you with both of your arms hanging in the air, and wax strips attached to your armpits. You usually like to pick up hobbies when you’re stressed out and you’ve always wanted to try waxing. But you hadn’t thoroughly watched the youtube video. So what was originally supposed to be an exciting new activity, quickly became anything but that. 

You had been pacing the living room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to work up the courage to pull off the strip. That’s when Sevika unlocks the front door and walks through the threshold, bundled up in layers of clothing as a draft from the chilly evening is brought in with her. 

You halt your steps, eyes widening and nose still running.

She blinks back at you, just as bewildered, with lips forming into an 'O' and eyes trailing up and down your physique. “Is everything okay?”

That’s what causes the dam to break; your vision blurs and your chest rises with panic. Then you're crying, “I can’t rip it off!” Your arms raise again, flailing in the air ridiculously as you bring your armpits to the center of her attention.

Her eyebrows lift as realization dawns on her. “Oh,” Is that amusement? Slowly, her lips stretch into a small grin and her eyes begin to sparkle in a way that you usually adore. But not now. Not during an emergency! “Oh, sweetheart.” Her lips press against each other, a poor attempt to hide her mirth, as she kicks the door shut and locks it. Then she’s walking towards you, “Surely, it’s not that bad.”

“It’s awful!” Your eyes start to well again as you gesture towards your pits. 

She concedes, gazing at you with an annoying amount of warmth. “Okay, it’s awful.”

You can tell that she’s agreeing with you just to provide comfort. And you hate that it almost works. 

“I’ve waited too long, Sev. My skin will rip off!” 

She laughs.

Laughs!

You cry harder.

“You’re really,” She inhales deeply, trying to calm her chuckles. “...Quite the thespian.”

“Sevika!”

“Okay, okay. Here,” One of her hands press into the small of your back and guides you towards the nearby couch. “I’ll help. Just breathe.”

Your stress manifests itself in other ways, like when you start bringing home files from your job and reviewing them at night. It’s what you do to keep yourself busy—to keep yourself from hanging around Sevika like a lost puppy every night.

You can tell that she notices it. She stops by your room every once and a while to check on you, and when your replies are uncharacteristically short, she hovers. 

She doesn’t truly address it until the fifth night rolls around and you’re holed up in your room again, sitting on your bed with small mountains of paperwork around you. As always, she knocks on the door, you tell her to come in, and she pads into the room with a cup of tea and a snack for you.

When you peer up at her, you notice that she’s wearing one of those cotton t-shirts that always look heavenly on her. Sweatpants hang loosely from her hips, dipping just enough to where you catch a glimpse of her happy trail. And her v-lines are so deep that they’re practically etched into stone. You blink through clouds of brain fog, trying to will yourself to continue breathing. But it’s hard. 

“You should take a break,” She mumbles.

Pulling your eyes away from her, you move your paperwork aside, stretching out the sore muscles in your legs. “I’m not, like,” You blink once more. She smells so good. “Overwhelmed or anything.”

Carefully, she places the mug on your nightstand. You watch as her eyes remain downcast. Her hair is freshly washed, slightly damped and tucked behind her ears. The ends are a bit split now, resting ever-so-slightly against the tops of her broad shoulders.

“Here,” She holds out the small ceramic plate towards you. It has a couple of toasted butter croissants. One of your favorites. 

Nimbly, you take the plate. Without thinking, you pull your legs to your chest, “You can sit,” And your eyes travel to the spot in your bed where your feet once were. She appraises you for a few seconds, a habit of hers that you’ve grown accustomed to. However, at this moment, it’s difficult to not feel affected by it. It’s difficult to ignore the way that it makes you yearn for so many things. 

When she sits down, you notice that it’s much closer than you anticipated.

Then she mutters, “Are you avoiding me?” 

So much for beating around the bush.

Something about the way she cuts straight to the point–the way that her gaze has yet to leave you–makes your gut twist. You take this moment as an opportunity to shove a piece of croissant into your mouth. 

“Because if you are–” Her right palm presses into the duvet. It’s only inches away from your foot. “If it’s about what I told you last month, then we can just act like that never happened.” 

You swallow your mouthful of food, wincing slightly because you failed to chew it completely before doing so. When you glance back up at Sevika, you marvel at the swirl of her irises. She considers you seriously with bated breath. 

Then, that’s when you feel it; the sense of complete satisfaction. 

Because of her.

A part of you feels silly because how on earth could you run from this? And why would you ever want to avoid this? Avoid her?

There’s an element of stress that you’ve been feeling because this is all new. And it’s scary, and single handedly the reason why she broke up with Monica. But it’s also real and rare and, because of that, something that should absolutely be cherished. Not thrown away.

I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you.

Over the course of this past month, those words have repeated so much in your mind that they’re practically tattooed onto your hippocampus. It’s all you’ve been able to think about, even during the shifts at your job. Even during the calls with your insurance company and the repair shop.

Sevika’s voice always manages to sit at the forefront.

The bed squeaks as she leans more weight onto her left hand, an action that allows her to shift closer to you. You rest your plate beside you on a pillow, croissants and hunger now discarded.

“We don’t have to forget it.” You find yourself saying. You think of the countless mornings that she makes you breakfast, and the times that she sits with you in the living room despite her lack of interest in the television programs you pick. You think of the evenings that you stand outside the apartment, waiting for her to arrive home from the store; how she always bears the heaviest grocery loads in spite of your objections. 

Shaking your head, you correct yourself. “I don’t want to forget it.”

Your mind travels to all the other moments that you’ve shared with Sevika. The notes that she leaves on the refrigerator, encouraging you to have a good day. And the spare blankets that she always washes for you; in case you become cold during the night.

Then there's the fact that she doesn’t become angry at your music playing in the late hours of the day. And her unwavering forgiveness after everything that happened with Monica; after all the times you’ve tested her patience.

“It’s just that this is so new,” You gesture to the small space between you and her. “And I don’t want to mess it up. And on top of that, I’m trying to navigate everything with the car wreck. It’s just... It’s hard.” Your breathing becomes uneven when you exhale. 

“I can help.” She shifts closer. The tips of her fingers nearly brush against your socked foot. 

“I can’t ask that of you. It’s my mess.”

“It can be my mess too.” Smiling, she dips her head to level her gaze. Her breath wafts towards you and it smells of peppermint. “I don’t mind.”

“But–”

“It’s not a problem at all for me. Nothing about you is.”

She doesn’t quite touch you, but you don’t know if what she’s doing is much different. With her sitting so close…you’re not sure if it truly matters. You can still feel the heat of her skin radiating off of her, as well as the warmth of her piercing stare. She watches you with eyes that could work out every kink in your body upon a single glance.

“You’re already giving me rides to and from work,” You begin. This is your last try—your final effort to keep her at arms length. “It’s too kind of you, Sev.”

Sevika’s always been the polite one out of you two—that’s not a secret. And it’s even been joked about a few times by Mel. 

“Why don’t you want me to be here for you?” Her head tilts as she asks this.

You blink, almost perplexed, “Well there has to be an expiration date at some point, right?”

Her response is slow. “...I’m not following.”

“For you to always be so acquiescent,” You rub your palms against the top of your thighs. “Even when I have nothing to give you in return. It doesn't make sense. There has to be a point where you won't feel so obliged anymore. An expiration date—” Your rambling halts when her hand wraps around your ankle. Gently, she presses her thumb against the base of your shin, then she works into your skin. A delicate massage. 

Slowly, she tugs. You allow your leg to be pulled towards her. Pretty soon, your other leg follows and she readjusts herself, so that the back of your thighs are almost resting on her lap. She's close. Really close.

Even though your heart is racing, out of mere instinct your hands stretch towards her.

“An expiration date will happen at some point and you won't want this. You won't want…me. And that's okay. Really. It’s—”

“Not possible.” When she smiles, you fall apart. It's the worst kind of heartbreak; the kind that’s painstakingly beautiful.

One of her hands continue to drape over your thighs, holding you in her lap as if you’re something to revere. Her other hand settles on top of your restless fingers, which happen to be kneading the hem of her shirt. She halts your fidgeting with a small squeeze.  

“That’s not possible,” She echoes, this time a little quieter. 

Her pupils are dilated with a fixed gaze, zeroing in on your nose. Then your lips. Oh.

As time passes, you try to swallow but you can't. 

Out of complete desire, you reach up and allow your fingertips to brush against the warmth of her skin. She watches you cautiously, almost alarmed, because you’ve never done anything like this before. Your knuckles graze alongside the sharpness of her cheekbones. With bated breath, she waits. Waits and waits and waits while you feel every inch of her skin.

It's unknown territory that you've stepped into. Yet it feels entirely natural all the same.

Your lips part when she leans in, and another cloud of her scent wafts around you. It soothes you and that fullness inside of you peaks to the highest of heights. It bursts, creating an impactful explosion—so much so that you can no longer hold yourself back. 

You swallow, finally, and lean forward too. It feels like too much time has passed when you close the distance. Her breathing stutters, eyes remaining on your lips before they flutter shut within the millisecond that she meets you.

Then, all at once, you feel your skin buzz. You hear the soaring of your heart when it shoots high up into the sky. You taste the sweetness of her lips and the warmth of her breath. It's good. Too good. 

When she moans, the sound vibrates into you. It zooms past the thudding of your heart, through the walls of your veins and soles of your feet. Your body reacts and you angle closer to her immediately. 

She pulls you into her lap with ease. Because that's how it always is with Sevika: easy. Kissing her is innate and you start to question how you’ve denied yourself such a privilege all this time. 

Sevika with her soft skin and shining grey eyes and warm smiles. This is her in front of you, kissing you back and accepting all that you're giving her without question. Without hesitation. 

This is real.

You press into her again as your arms lock around her shoulders. Another moan leaves her.

This is definitely real.

It's not until your pulling away for air when you allow your eyes to open.

The room is practically spinning. Oh god.

She nips at your neck while her hands find solace underneath your shirt. Her palms are flat against your lower back and fingers spread. And when something soft escapes your throat, her lips curve into a smile. She helps you sink lower into her lap—you're practically humping her now—with a grip that is both heady and encouraging.

“You can have me,” She says, her breath hot against your skin. 

You blink slowly, scrambling to keep up with the sound of her voice. 

You're slow to reply, so she pulls you two apart, just so that she can look directly at you. Her forefinger brushes against the tip of your chin, eyes locking with yours, and expression full of intent.

“Anything you want,” She mutters. It's hard to not become distracted by her lips; they're puffier than usual from the kissing. “Just say the words and I’ll give it to you.”

You're not sure why it happens at this exact moment, but your muscles lock up. Your vision starts to blur as you peer at her with swimming orbs, hands gripping her shoulders shakily.

Shit. You're definitely in too deep now...

"That's dangerous.”

She watches you for a few moments longer. Then, “How so?”

“Because I’ll want all of you.” A tear trickles down your cheek. Your cards are now laid out on the table. 

“Then have all of me.” 

Your hand curls around the back of her neck when she kisses your cheek—right where your tear is. 

“Just take it. All of it,” She whispers. Another kiss, this time it lingers longer. “I'm yours to have anyways.”

That breaks you. Truly breaks you. 

It’s hard to wrap your brain around how serious she is. But you start to believe her when her fingers push into you for the first time, eliciting a whimper from your lips. And as her fingers reach deeper and deeper, she swallows every sound you make with visceral pleasure. It satisfies her beyond anything famothable, to work into you and watch you unfold before her. Knowing that such a thing pleases her is what drives you mad.

It’s what has you crying please, please, please when she thrusts into you, watching you thank whatever God can hear you.  

Then she begins to tell you that you can let go, and that you’re doing so good. 

Because, you're really fucking special, and she wants you to know that. To feel that. 

Because she needs you to know that. She needs this and she needs you. She will never stop needing you.

Because, God, you're so fucking perfect. 

And when you’re cresting with tears rolling down your cheeks, blubbering about her having your heart and that she’s it for you—because you're certain there’ll never be anyone else—

She’s nodding, starry eyed and wanting, whispering, IknowIknowIknow as each thrust is fucked into you with delicious fervor.

Because, you're it for her too.

And she doesn't mind helping you realize that. Even if you demand that she drills it into you for the rest of the night.

#piscespetals writing #au writing #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane au #fanfic #arcane netflix #fluff #arcane women #smut is always a challenge for me to write but here's my rendition of it i suppose #there'll be more of in the chapter five #roommate!sevika #sevika writing #sevika pls marry me

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part one here and two here

content: angst, more lesbian disaster

word count: 6k

Chapter 4 should be up next weekend!

Chapter Three

Apologizing is hard for you...

You have too much pride—too much ego.

Apologizing displays a depth of vulnerability that you've never quite been good at.

With Mel, it's easy. Because besides your parents, she’s the only other person that's been a constant in your life. Besides your parents, she’s the only person that has stayed—that has loved you—despite all of your flaws. 

You haven't known Sevika for long. In fact, you can argue that she probably knows you more than you know her.

From the very beginning, you made an effort to show her all of your faults. She ultimately gets on your nerves at times, the Monica situation excluded, with her being bossy and too clean and too nit picky. In the past, she’s voiced her opinion of you being slightly loud, and easily bothered, and easily distracted. There’s fundamental differences between the two of you—differences that you picked up on within the first week of living together. Differences that should make you want to chew each other’s heads off.

Yet she still wakes up every morning and eats breakfast with you.

She still listens to your endless rants about your workplace drama. 

She still shows you grace when you forget to unload the dishwasher, during the times you accidentally play your music a bit too loud, and during the moments you disrupt her sleep for an ice cream run. 

Apologizing is hard for you, but when it comes to Sevika, it's easy.

She makes a lot of things easy for you, even when you don't want to admit it.

Even when you know that you make everything so much harder for her.

That's why you're overcome with guilt for the rest of that night. 

Every atom in your body screams for you to march across your flat and make things right. After all, you've had many disagreements with Sevika but never this. Never something so hurtful.

So that's what you do. 45 minutes have passed since you’ve stormed into your room, and 45 minutes is how long it takes for you to wipe your tears and open your bedroom door. You're trying to calm your breathing and unblur your vision when you stumble through the pitch black apartment.

You stub your toe on a piece of furniture, which causes you to curse and halt your steps before you force yourself to limp the rest of the way.

It’s only when you reach Sevika’s bedroom that you realize her door is halfway shut, and her lights are off. Your knock is met with dragging silence. Then you knock again and there’s no reply.

Frowning, you crack open her door, “Sev?” Your voice echoes off of the walls. 

Switching on the lights, your heart plummets when you see that the room is empty. You check her bathroom—also empty—and her balcony with rising panic. But it's to no avail.

When did she leave?

You're usually able to hear the closing and opening of the apartment door from where your bedroom is located. You're certain that you would have heard her. There's never a time when you don't.

“Sev?” 

The answering silence makes your chest hollow.

And it's only when you're swallowed by soul-crushing despondency when you realize the true weight of tonight’s quarrel.

When you text Sevika, wondering about her whereabouts, she takes her time to reply. The message marks as read for 42 agonizing minutes before you receive a simple word:

Out.

Your stomach tugs and your heart drops, because you know that there’s not much else you can say before overstepping boundaries. 

Sevika is receptive to almost everything that you dish out, but you aren't quite sure she'd handle clingy as well as she does your other traits.

It’s barely been two months.

You don't want to suffocate her.

Similarly, sending an apology text seems low. Disingenuous. 

Not only is that cheap but it’s the last thing she deserves. You’ll apologize in person, when she’s home and (hopefully) in better spirits. You’ll make a whole ordeal out of it: order her favorite pizza, some beer and butter her up with nauseating kindness.

Yes—that’s it.

That’ll do the trick.

For now, you’ll allow her to cool off. You’ll give her the night. You’ll give her space.

And when dawn strikes, you’ll push away your pride and make it your mission to win back her good graces.

But the issue is that Sevika never returns.

When you wake in the morning, you're greeted with the chirping of birds by your window. Your bedside clock reads 9:16 AM; an hour that Sevika is usually awake for. 

After washing your face and teeth, you expect to see her hovering over the toaster while the kitchen television streams the morning news. You've grown accustomed to that kind of morning. During these past two months, you've caught yourself wondering how it's taken nearly two decades for you to find that kind of peace.

But today’s not that.

The toaster sits untouched and unplugged, kitchen lights off as well as the television, and apartment Sevika-less.

Your mouth twists as a low huff escapes you.

Okay. Maybe you were being unrealistic to think that she’d return first thing in the morning.

Lunch time is more practical.

Except noon rolls around and she’s still gone. You have to leave for work in a few hours, and you begin to feel uneasy by the shrinking window of Sevika’s arrival. You feel like you’re running out of time. You feel like you won’t be able to make things right if she doesn't return before you leave. 

You don't want to do this tomorrow.

You don't want to experience the agonizing misery of waiting for each hour of your shift to tick by tonight; wondering, hoping, that she’s already home.

And maybe that's a little selfish—because you shouldn't be apologizing for the sole reason of lessening your guilt. You should be apologizing because it’s the right thing to do. Because that is the least she deserves. 

So, you swallow your guilt and head towards your balcony. Maybe some fresh air will help clear your mind.

It’s 11:45 PM when you hear jostling from the entrance door.

You pause the movie on your laptop, craning your neck to get a better listen. 

That familiar click resonates through your room before you hear the creaking of the hinges. Your breath hitches, eyes widening and chills running along the hair of your spine. 

She’s home.

Suddenly, your pre-planned speech is thrown out the window. 

Your feet are taking you across the floorboards before you can fully register what is happening.  You think that you are about to throw up from the amount of anxiety currently flowing through you right now. You don’t believe you’ve been this worried about someone’s absence throughout your entire adult life.

“Sev?” You call.

There’s shuffling in the hallway, which spikes your heart to an unprecedented rate. 

There she stands, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and beanie on her head. She's toeing out of her boots, breathing slightly labored and hallway filled with her cologne. There’s a chilling presence about her, probably from the cold temperatures from outside, but it makes you freeze nonetheless.

The only indication that she’s heard you is when her movements slow upon your approach. But she doesn’t look up.

“Sev?” You call again, this time quieter. 

Where’s that impish smile that makes you want to roll your eyes and hug her breathless at the same time? 

She begins to shrug off her coat.

“I was worried.” You add. Tentative. Scared.

You watch apprehensively as she hangs her coat on the garment rack. Her back is facing you. It stretches upon movement; broadening and flexing through the material of her peach button up. 

You didn’t know that she had packed a bag. 

The thought creates layers of unsettling emotions.

“....Nothing to be worried about.” Sevika replies. But despite her reassurance, her tone remains unwelcoming. Your eyes fall shut momentarily as you fight off a wave of remorse. There’s the slightest bit of warmth that spreads across your shoulder. When you open your eyes, you realize that she’s brushed past you. 

Her footsteps travel towards the other end of the apartment, where the kitchen resides. 

You follow after her, desperate to say anything–to do anything that will relieve this tension.

“I’m sorry.”   

Your apology wavers; the crack of an iceberg. 

“I really am,” You continue, rounding the corner of the kitchen. Her arms are folded as she leans her weight against the counter. “...I was being so ridiculous. I mean truly, Sev. I don’t want…” You’re shaking your head. “I don’t want something like this to come between us.”

Her gaze remains planted on the floor. She purses her lips, expression purely contemplative. Then, “Why don’t you like her?”

“I never said I don’t…like her.”

That’s when she peers up at you, lips twisting into a scowl and eyebrows furrowing. 

Your hands raise defensively and you sigh. “Okay, okay.” You shift your weight, struggling to recover from the ice in her stare. “Sev, I’m sorry for how I acted. Truly. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t bring her around. I want you to feel comfortable. This is home. Your home.”

Her glare warms by a small degree. But she doesn’t relent. “Why don’t you like her?”

Your lips part. You’ve been backed into a corner.

You have to answer. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know,” She parrots, voice low and disbelieving. Accusatory. Her head tilts, grey irises inspecting every inch of your face. “I don’t believe you.” She shakes her head. “Try again.”

“I don’t know if I can tell you.” You rephrase. “If I should tell you.”

Immediately, she pushes off the counter and grows closer. Her hands fall into the front pockets of her jeans, neck hanging to look down at you. Your jaw locks shut, keeping you from speaking and saying anything more. Sevika stays that way for a long time, never really moving any closer but also never pulling away.

When you break your gaze, you notice that her hands are working their way in and out of fists. 

“Will you let me apologize to you first?” You ignore the bobbing of your achy throat and the burning of your eyes. You can't cry. That won't solve anything.

“You already did.”

“Well, I truly am sorry.”

“I heard.”

“And I’ve missed you.”

The corner of her lip twitches. “It’s barely been 24 hours.”

“Still missed you.”

She hums. Acknowledgement. That’s a good sign. 

“I have a tendency to, uh, overreact sometimes.” You clear your throat. “I was being really fucking ridiculous. An idiot. I mean, really, I realize how unnecessary this all was and that we’re too old for this.”

Another moment of hesitation lapses into the conversation. It’s not as heavy as before, but still intensifies the standstill that you two have reached. 

“I’m sorry.” You add. 

Those words, a cry in your throat, have been haunting you all day.

You’ve never been the sort of individual to apologize easily.

But right now, as you stand in front of Sevika, you realize that it’s as effortless as blinking. 

You’ll apologize for the rest of the night if she asks you to.

“You’re an idiot. You know that right?” There’s a smile playing at Sevika’s lips. She reaches forward and pinches your nose; something that she likes to do to annoy you. You groan as you try to breathe through your mouth. 

“I’m the worst idiot ever,” The tone of your voice is now disgustingly nasally. “Who's incredibly sorry and will do anything to ma-”

“If you keep apologizing, I’ll burn your toast tomorrow morning.”

“Oh no. Burnt toast. How frightening.”

In the morning, your toast is warm and spread with butter. Your tea is sweeter than usual too. 

The 9 o’clock news plays on the kitchen television.

You hold onto your mug tightly. Sevika is beside you, the sound of her even breaths reminding you of the beauty in sweet, suspenseless mornings. 

You blink through heavy eyelids, muscles still fatigued when she turns to you and says, “Will you apologize to Monica too?”

And you’re slightly gutted by that. 

It’s a question that you knew she’d ask. 

It’s a reasonable thing to want.

But still…

You’d be lying if you said that this entire predicament didn’t make you feel sick.

But you have no one to blame other than yourself. 

This is the sensible solution.

“Yes,” You respond, giving her one short nod. “I’ll apologize to her.”

And you do.

The first half of the apology begins with a terrible pot of Chili that you try to make as a peace offering. You manage to botch it half way through. 

Sevika ends up helping. Everytime she peers at your face, she snickers. At one point, you catch her muttering that she, “Doesn’t know what to do with you.”

When Monica arrives, it’s awkward. You stand off to the side as Sevika hugs and kisses her. Then, when Monica turns to you, you give her a small smile and wave. Her greeting isn’t nearly as cordial, which says a lot. But you figure that you deserve it. After all, you haven't been very welcoming to her.

When Sevika leaves momentarily—to buy some beer from the store—you take that as an opportunity to apologize. Monica is scrolling on her phone silently, sitting in one of the dining room chairs.

She peers up at you with large eyes when you approach her. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, which is mostly my fault. And I’m really sorry for that. Do you think, maybe, we can start over?”

She regards you for a few moments, jaw clenching and unclenching before she says, “I accept your apology.”

Your smaller smile stretches into a bigger one. 

“But,” She adds. “I think that it was truly unfair that you didn't give me a proper chance to know you. At first, I thought it was me. I realize now that it has everything to do with Vika, and I think that's sad. I think that she probably shouldn't be staying with someone who is willing to impede on her happiness so much. But I also think,” Her lips tug into the ghost of a smirk. “That if I was in love with my roommate and had to watch her find happiness with another woman, that I too would become bitter.

“So, yes, I accept your apology.” Monica continues. “But I hope you can understand that I have no desire to be friends with you. We can be cordial on Vika’s behalf. But only that.”

Your thumb absentmindedly fiddles with the plate of your belt. You wonder, for the umpteenth time, how you've gotten yourself into such a predicament. And it almost feels like a flock of self-wallowing birds are surrounding you at that moment. You bear through the pitiful feeling nonetheless and give her a curt nod.

“Okay,” You respond. “Cordial is fine with me.”

Later in the night, when Mel has left and Sevika bolts the door shut, she asks, “How did the apology go?”

You hesitate for a moment, brain replaying all of the words that Monica spewed. You feel a familiar weight press into the center of your chest, and your skin prickles as realization dawns on you. 

But you can't allow Sevika to pick up on it. You can allow her to see you like this. So you clear your throat and blink through blurry vision.

“It went well.” You pull your blanket up to your chin, stretching your legs out on the living room recliner. “She accepted it.”

The fridge opens. You hear shuffling.

“That's great!”

Yeah.

Great.

“You know I love you,” Mel begins. “But what the fuck.”

You wince, bracing yourself for the reprimanding that is sure to come. This is the very reason why you’ve been avoiding telling Mel everything that has happened. Usually you are able to talk to her about dilemmas that you’ve put yourself in. But something about this feels different. Besides the fact that you almost royally fucked up your friendship with Sevika, there’s another emotion lingering within you–something heavier–that’s been making you want to avoid the topic altogether.

You take another bite into your pizza, allowing your silence to be an answer within itself.

“I think we need to address the elephant in the room,” Mel says. 

You're shaking your head before she can even finish her sentence. You already know where this is going. 

“There’s nothing to address.”

“From the first night I introduced you to Sev, when you were giggling with her on the couch like a schoolgirl—”

“Oh my god.”

“I spotted it from day 1, that you two being roommates would either end really great or…really badly.”

“Mel,” Your eyes squint shut once more as you grimace. “No. It’s not like that.”

“How else could it be? You put two lesbians that want to fuck each other in the same apartment and all hell breaks loose.”

“She has a girlfriend.”

“Which just makes it worse!” An incredulous chuckle leaves her as she begins to rub her temples. She’s sitting in the recliner chair in the corner of the living room while you’re sprawled out on the loveseat.

Sevika is at work, which has given you the perfect opportunity to catch up with Mel. And despite the fact that you hate how candid Mel’s being, you know that you need to hear it.

She’s always been your voice of reason.

“Are you going to say something to her?” You mumble, gazing up at the ceiling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her shift in the chair. She hugs her knees to her chest. 

“Of course not. You need to figure out whatever the hell this is without any meddlers.”

You shrug. “I wouldn't mind a little bit of meddling.”

“You're doing that thing where you ignore your emotions until you absolutely can't anymore.” Mel sighs. “Unless you want shit to blow up in your face for real, I suggest you come to terms with your feelings towards Sevika and find a way to deal with them. Healthily.”

She’s right.

A huff leaves you. “I prefer my way, you know…”

She snorts. “Your way will have you roommate-less and heartbroken.”

“...You really think Sev would leave? Permanently?”

“Well, I don't know.” She feigns shock, palm sprawling across her chest. “It's not like I haven't known Sevika through the in’s and outs of her parents death and real estate issues, and divorce. No—I totally have no idea that she’s been through enough—”

Your body shoots up. “Wait.”

“...You're right. You should asolutely continue to terrorize her girlfriend and be, quite possibly, the worst roommate that could ever happen to her. For fucks sake babe. Wake up! I mean, truly, after everything she’s been through, don’t you think she deserves—”

“Mel.” 

“...If I was her, I would have packed my bags too. I love you. But do you realize how infuriating you can be? I thought I psychoanalyzed you enough in our friendship but clearly it hasn't been very eff—”

“Mel!” Your voice cracks, embarrassingly so, which causes you to clear your throat. 

Your brain begins to short circuit as you try to hold onto the remnants of all the information she's just fed you. It processes and processes, and your world spins around you. You feel like you’ve just found the last wedge of a 500 piece puzzle; the full picture is finally complete.

“Sevika’s divorced?”

You never would have thought that Sevika was a romantic. Not romantic enough to be married, at least. And surely, not a divorcee. She’s tight lipped about a few things, her past relationships being one of them, but you always chalked it up to the possibility of her being reserved. 

It's a weird feeling to be shocked by such a revelation. It's merely a divorce. 

But you feel like that piece of information holds weight. 

Because Sevika has told you a lot of things, including the intricate details of her parents death, yet has seemed to leave out the entire fact that she’s been married.

For some reason, she hasn't wanted you to discover that part of herself.

That's all the more reason why you feel guilty. Because, not only have you found it out, but Mel is the one to have told you. Surely, that wouldn't make Sevika feel the best.

“You didn't know that?” Mel looked at you with an odd expression.

“No,” You were feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny. 

Mel’s response was delayed. She gazed at you further, eyebrows furrowing and lips frowning, before she muttered, “Oh.”

Then she dropped the subject, probably because she didn't want to accidentally spill any more of Sevika’s secrets to you.

Later that night, Alicia is invited over for dinner. She walks in with two bottles of wine and a cheeky grin. She hugs you obnoxiously tight.

“I see that you and Sev finally made up!” She exclaims. This calls for a celebration! Hip! Hip-”

“Ugh,” You groan. “Really, A?”

“Yeah, seriously, hun.” Mel interrupts. “The energy’s a bit too much. Can you lower it a few notches?”

Something bad must have happened.

There’s that feeling in the pit of your stomach materializing again; a horrible mixture of panic and existential dread.

And that feeling spikes when a loud horn sounds. It's painfully close; close enough to split your eardrums in half.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Hello? Oh my god. Are you okay?”

For some reason, that question isn't enough to alert you. You're too focused on the blur of colors you're seeing. 

“Hello?”

You lean back against your seat and the blaring horn comes to a halt. You had been laying on your steering wheel.

Then you remember it all at that moment.

You were supposed to be going to the store. You had convinced Sevika to stay home because she had been doing the bulk of the chores lately and that was making you feel guilty. It had only been three weeks since the two of you made up, but you found yourself still wanting to apologize to her in the smallest ways.

You were driving with your window down and had come to a four-way stop. A butterfly fluttered towards you and perched itself on your nose.

It was a vibrant orange butterfly, with bold black stripes and white dots. After that, everything began to grow fuzzy. Were you supposed to be moving? Your foot was on the gas but you hadn't remembered moving it there. You must have been moving. You weren’t paying attention. You should have been, but you weren’t. The butterfly had distracted you.

Pretty soon, a car was hurtling towards you on your right, too fast to be able to slow down. The both of you crashed.

Now, the driver is standing right outside your vehicle, trying to gain your attention.

“Are you okay?” They call again.

You blink once more. Subconsciously, you try to bring your right arm up to your face. Nothing happens.

You lift your left hand to your face, sighing in relief when a pair of callused fingers fall directly onto your eyes. You’re still alive.

“Are you alright? Please answer me.”

Another knock.

“I’m calling 911.”

You don’t like hospitals.

One time, your mom had taken you to the ER due to severe stomach pains. You were 12 years old. It felt like someone was trying to slice your belly open with a machete. You spent hours in the waiting room doubling over and clutching your stomach. Your mom sat beside you, lips permanently pulled into a thin line. She went on about how much of an inconvenience this night had been; that she was tired from working a 12 hour shift and was hungry. She also threw in a comment about how much this ER appointment would financially cost.

The longer you both sat in the waiting room, the more agitated she became.

“I can't catch a break.” She had muttered. You struggled to understand if she was angry at you or anxious for you. Or maybe she was projecting due to the long day she had at work. You didn't fully know. All you could recognize was that she was in some kind of distress. “I just hope nothing serious is going on.” Then her hand fell to your back, lightly rubbing circles into it.

Your eyes prickled with tears during that moment. But you didn't know if it was due to the pain or the immense guilt you felt for incurring a hospital bill.

The stomach pains eventually began to subside after that. Once a health professional was ready to see you, the pain was quite tolerable. You even struggled to push away the fit of giggles you felt every time the doctor skimmed her fingers across your tummy; feeling for “tenderness.”

After being questioned by her, she told your mom you had trapped gas and dismissed you.

Your mom had been angry. It took a few weeks before she stopped berating you about the amount of money her and dad would have to pay the hospital for “something as simple as trapped gas.”

You weren't sure if she was mad at you or the hospital. Your mom often grew upset like that but you could never quite understand who she meant to direct her feelings to. After those weeks passed, you began to assume yourself as the fault for most of her moods.

The following month, you dealt with really bad stabs of pain in your legs. Everytime you wanted to open your mouth to tell your mom, you were instead flooded with memories from the night you had trapped gas. Then you would close your mouth and count to 50 to try and block out the pain. 

Any health concern after that was something that you tried to ignore. Whether it was illnesses or crying spells, you often hid in your room until you could collect yourself. Then you would re-emerge in the living room where Mom and Dad often were.

By the age of 14, it took you a while to notice your body cues. It was sophomore year of highschool when Tasha Koshman, one of your classmates, accidentally broke your left ankle during the soccer unit of P.E. She was 6 foot and 2 inches.  Tasha had one of the strongest bodies you had ever seen—pure muscle—and was one of the star players on the varsity football team. During the soccer game, she tried to kick the ball into the goal. But instead, she missed and her foot slammed right into your ankle. You heard a snap. There was a sharp pain—and then nothing at all. You fell to the ground.

Tasha carried you–bridal style–to the nurse’s office. She wouldn't shut up the entire time. Her eyes swimmed with worry, and a combination of sweat and tears dripped from her chin and onto your shirt. 

You supposed it was a bit freaky for her to know that she could do such a thing to another human without even trying. She apologized profusely during that 8 minute walk across campus.

“There, there.” You mumbled. You used your left hand to pat her shoulder reassuringly. This was how you often saw TV characters consoling one another on shows. “Don’t worry. The bone will heal back together eventually.”

The creases in her forehead deepened.

Tasha cried harder.

You knew it was bad that you didn't feel much of the pain. But finding out the reason for that meant another healthcare visit and therefore another bill. 

Your parents definitely wouldn't appreciate that.

You were 22 when you met Mel. She worked at the same elementary school that you were volunteering at. She was one of the administrators in the front office.

The work relationship between you two developed into a budding friendship, and then a perfect roommate dynamic.

Throughout the ten years of Mel being your roommate, she never made fun of you for crying. In fact, you have her to thank for identifying your emotional constipation.

Mel also was the one who’d take you to the doctor whenever you’d fall ill. She was annoyingly maternal the entire time and probably lectured you a bit too much. It was something you were skeptical of at first. But you soon grew to be fond of it because you knew that it came from a place of love.

She'd usually never leave your side until you felt better.

You never told her, but gestures like that meant the world to you. 

"Does this hurt you at all?" The doctor asks you. She's staring at you with big and round brown eyes. Her eyelashes are coated with electric blue mascara. Pretty.

Outside the room, there’s a rush of loud screaming sounds. The word intubate gets passed around by a pair of voices. The interruption fades just as quickly as it comes.

You hum unintelligibly. Your blinks are slow as your gaze drags down to the way her pudgy fingers delicately feel for injuries.

"Hm." You pause, thoroughly thinking through her question. Are you hurting? "I'm not sure."

There’s a couple of cheesy posters on the walls about the importance of mental health. A bottle of soda sits on a countertop beside the sink. 

"Okay." The doctor stares at you for a few more seconds. “Well nothing is broken. All of our scans have come back with no results of serious trauma. Your body is in shock right now. Sometimes I have patients that feel absolutely nothing during a crisis. The brain is able to block out the signals that the body sends during those moments. Isn't that remarkable? Anyways, the adrenaline will probably wear off soon. Victims of car accidents usually encounter some fatigue and muscle aches for a while afterwards. You'll need to have pain medication for then."

When Mel comes flying through the door, she’s sporadic, seemingly out of breath and frazzled. 

Tears stream down her cheeks as she rushes towards you. "Oh my god!" 

“I’m okay.”

Despite your reassurance, she wraps her arms around you and pulls you into a bone crushing hug. “I was so worried.”

“I’m okay,” You parrot, this time gentler. You can’t blame her. 

You had called her on the way to the ER and briefly told her what happened. You couldn’t say much because you were still so shaken up, so she was only able to understand a generalization of the car accident. If the roles were reversed, you’d be just as frantic.

“Nothing’s broken,” You continue. Your voice wavers but you figure that’s a normal reaction in a situation like this. “I’m waiting for the doctor to come back. She had to get something… I can’t remember. It was so much information.”

Mel pulls away, cradling your cheeks with the palms of her hands. Her eyes are bloodshot and her bottom lip is split from being chapped. “You scared us so badly. Do you have any idea what Sevika is putting herself through right now?” Then she grimaces and stops herself, gaze unfocusing from you.

Your breathing falters. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…’ You struggle to blink away the tears. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I wasn’t in the right state of mind when I had called you. I just knew that I needed to reach out to someone in case it was serious, I didn-”

“I know, I know.” She pulls you in for another hug. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry. You just,” Her voice grows thin and she tightens her grip around you. The squeeze almost knocks you breathless but you don’t have the heart to say anything. “I was scared.”

“I get it.” You swallow thickly, hoping that it’ll help to dissolve the lump at the back of your throat. 

The door opens and an ivory-white lab coat comes back into view. The doctor smiles at the pair of you, greeting you by your full name once more. She’s carrying a clipboard in one hand and a ballpoint pen in the other. She mutters a small hi to Mel when she reaches your bed, then she begins jotting something down on the clipboard. “I’m going to send your paperwork over to your GP so they can review everything. I want you to do a check up with him next week, just to make sure everything is okay.” Swiftly, she places the pen back into her coat pocket and sets the clipboard on the edge of the bed. “If you start to feel any excessive sleepiness, confusion or troubles with balance, please come back immediately.”  

When you’re released, Mel helps you walk back to the waiting room where Alicia and Sevika are apparently waiting. 

You’re grateful to have a friend like her by your side. You don’t quite know what you’d do without Mel; you don’t know how you would have gotten through life if you hadn’t met her at all. 

Her arm around you is firm as she guides you through the hospital traffic. Nurses are rushing back and forth between rooms. Curtains are being drawn unexpectedly and there’s even a distant screech from someone. The air reeks of bleach and despair. 

You want to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Just down this way.” Mel croaks. Her voice is hoarse from crying so hard. 

“Mel,” You begin. “I want to thank you.”

“Not here.”

“You know I don’t have anyone else. You’re my family. You know that, right?”

The door squeaks as she pushes it open. Her eyes are swimming again, gaze avoiding yours, and throat bobbing from swallowing thickly. “I know.” She squeezes you once more. “You’re mine too.”

You rest one of your hands over hers and return the gesture. 

The waiting room is filled with people who display similar variations of distress. Alicia is the first one that you recognize. She’s wearing one of her trademark flannels, leaning against the wall while staring up at the ceiling. Her foot is tapping exceptionally fast; hands balled into fists. That’s when you realize that this is the first time you’ve ever seen her look so…grave.

Sevika sits beside her in a chair. At least–the figure looks like Sevika. It’s hard for you to know for sure. The woman is hunched over, head in her hands, and body cloaked by a black trench coat. The coat is familiar. Her hands, which cling to the roots of her hair, are what stand out to you the most.

Alicia see’s you before Sevika, and pushes off the wall with a heavy exhale. “Thank God.”

Mel let’s go as the two of you draw closer to them. Sevika’s head shoots up upon your arrival, eyes locking with yours instantly.

They’re bloodshot red. 

Just that sight alone causes something to unwind within you. The knot between your shoulder blades loosen and that ache around your ribcage dissipates. That nagging feeling of danger withdraws and is replaced with unbearable tugging. 

Your eyes flood. 

Sevika reaches for you, as if she knows, as if she senses the tugging herself. “Fuck.” Her lips barely move, voice laced with sickening horror and relief. “You-” Her breathing stutters.

She stands to her feet, hands wrapping around both of your wrists and pulling you towards her. Your heart refuses to calm down. 

Her voice is so quiet that you barely notice it, “You’re here.” When she embraces you, your ear presses against her chest. She’s firm. All firmness.

“I’m here.” The burning in your eyes return and the tears threaten to spill over.

This time, you let them.

Chewing your tongue, you hold your breath and fiddle with the material of your comforter. 

You’re hanging on the edge of panic. The air around you feels too thin. 

Your forehead gathers with pools of sweat, as well as the back of your neck. And a shiver runs through you, despite feeling pure heat all throughout your veins.

“What the fuck, Vika!”

“It just…” Sevika mumbles. There’s a small lapse of silence. Then, “It’s just not working out.”

Your nerves are shot.

You want to bang your head against the wall. Not that it will help. But you want to do something–anything. This is not what you expected to hear when Sevika told you that Monica would be stopping by for a brief visit. She had slipped into your room to tell you, barely giving you a chance to respond and barely looking you in the eyes, before leaving and closing your bedroom door. 

It’s only been a day since the accident and you've never seen Sevika so frayed. She barely left your side last night. And when you finally went to sleep, you’d wake to the sound of her occasionally peeping into your room before she’d subsequently head back to her own.

Sevika is a pretty caring friend.

But she never hovers.

Well–not until now.

“What has changed?” You hear Monica ask. Her voice is muffled from the thickness of the walls. But you’re still able to pick up on how rigid it sounds. “Have I done something wrong? Is it because of what we talked about the other night? If so, I was just joking. Kids are only something I’d want if my part-”

“It’s…” Sevika’s voice is lower than Monica’s. Quieter. You try to crane your neck to hear better. “I would like to explain it all. There’s a few reasons why-”

“Is it because of her?”

Your blood runs backward at the accusation. 

Shuffling happens from the other room.

The sound of footsteps draw closer to your room.

“Don’t.” You hear Sevika say.

“Is she here?”

“Monica–”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me, Sevika! I can’t…I won’t do this with her here.”

More shuffling. 

The footsteps direct their pace away from your door. You hadn’t even realized that your muscles were tensing until they relax.

“This is unbelievable,” Monica adds. Her voice has raised several decibels, borderline yelling. “Are you fucking her?”

“I’m not–Jesus Christ. I’m not sleeping with her. Let’s talk and I’ll tell you all the reasons–”

“I’m not talking with her here.”

“Then let’s go somewhere else. I’ll drive?”

There’s no reply.

“I’ll explain it all, I swear.” Sevika continues. “I just…I need to be honest with you.”

Dust swirls the air around you as the sun shines through your window. It’s only 10 A.M. It’s only a Tuesday morning.

Two days into the week and so much has already happened.

You sigh, pulling your blanket over your shoulders some more, as you try to register everything that you’re hearing. Sevika wants to break up with Monica? So suddenly? 

You’d be lying if you said that you aren’t surprised. 

If you were Monica, you’d be gutted. 

You jump, completely startled, by your door barging open. Sevika stands in the doorway, dressed fully in her coat and boots. She’s clipping her carabiner to one of her belt loops, brows furrowed and eyes searching yours desperately. Words have run out.

She knows that you’ve heard it all.

“Sev,” It’s a broken mumble since you’re still groggy. 

She shakes her head. “I’ll explain when I come back.”

You watch her slip her phone into her back pocket. It makes no sense, the way that life has seemed to flip upside down for the both of you; the way that this past month consisted of more chaos than you’ve ever experienced before.

And yet that tugging from yesterday still remains. But this time, tenfold stronger. So strong that it’s a separate being within itself. Rather than a feeling, it’s become second nature. It takes every fiber in your being to ignore it.

“Why today?” You find yourself countering.

Her lips part, irises burning a silver-fire. The kind of silver that you’d bury yourself in forever if you could. 

“I’ll be back soon.” This response is all that she can give for now.

It’s the respectful thing to do.

Monica deserves to hear the answer first; she deserves to hear it without you there.

You understand. “Okay.” 

She hovers again. For a few more seconds. “Okay.” She echoes.

You can only stare when she leaves.

And when the apartment door slams shut, you're left to sit there and ponder over what the fuck has just happened.

#why are lesbians like this #when i wrote this chapter it was originally 14k but that's entirely too long so i had to break it up into chapter 4 #piscespetals writing #au writing #sevika #fanfic #sevika x reader #arcane au

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part one here

content: fluff, angst, lesbian disaster

word count: 4k

sorry for the long wait! i've been very ill and it's taken a long while to recover since i'm immunocompromised. let me know your thoughts!

Chapter Two

Sevika is right...

Her friends are nice. 

The first time that you meet them is two weeks after she moves in.

She tells you that she initially, “Just wants to show them the place.”

She asks if you’re okay with that.

“Of course,” You respond, taken aback by the question.

You have a feeling that Sevika will do that often–ask for your permission, that is.

A part of you is flattered that she respects you so much to do so.

When they arrive, there’s two of them. One is a short heavy set woman with a buzz cut and gauges. She has striking cheekbones and smells nice. Her name is Hazel.

The other is a burly man, maybe ten years your senior, with a greying beard and ash brown hair. He wears clunky boots, something that you notice about him immediately and his name is Vander.

Hazel hugs you upon introduction. She has a tattoo on her neck in red ink; a viper with its fangs bared. The sight catches your breath. Instantly, you decide that you like her.

The four of you make your way throughout the flat. It’s easy to laugh along to Vander’s terribly corny puns and Hazel’s witty side-remarks. Sevika is the tamer one of the trio, which is not something you had expected, yet makes sense nonetheless.

When you all have made your way to the living room, the setting sun shines through the blinds of the patio door. It must be closer to dusk–a time of day that you often enjoy.

Your stomach grumbles and your nerves have settled to near nonexistence. With a sense of ease, you turn to Vander and Hazel and ask, “Would you two like to stay for dinner?”

You can tell that your offer shocks them. The original plan was for their visit to be short. At least, that’s what Sevika has assured you of. But you didn’t seem to mind their company for a few hours more. 

“We’d love to!” Vander replies, without hesitation.

When you glance towards Sevika, she’s peering at you with bright sparkling irises. A slow smile creeps onto her face, one that displays her pearly whites and gap. A buzz of exhilaration shoots through you. She winks, a small notion that somehow manages to speak a thousand words.

Your veins nearly explode. 

Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek, as you struggle to contain yourself from bursting into a shit-eating grin.

There’s a routine to you and Sevika’s livelihood.

She usually cooks the meals. You do your best to clean the house afterwards. Though you're not much of a cleaner, Sevika’s presence seems to make you want to do so. She’s particular about her living space. She likes everything tidy and organized; two words that you weren’t very familiar with before meeting her. But she somehow makes those traits easy for you to adopt. 

She likes to grocery shop. You don’t take kindly to those sorts of errands; that was a chore that Mel used to happily complete. But now, it’s been delegated to Sevika.

When she arrives back home from the store, you meet her in the parking lot. She always looks mighty and powerful when she pulls up in her shiny black truck. 

And it feels natural when she regards you with a warm grin, climbing out of her ridiculous vehicle with ease. You never fail to smile in return. Because smiling around her is the easiest thing to do–nearly as easy as breathing. 

She slips a few bags of groceries into your arms–which always seem to be the lightest loads–while she grabs the heavier items. And the both of you walk back to the apartment, glued at the hip, chatting about everything that comes to mind. Or, on some days, nothing at all.

Conversation is never a necessity around Sevika.

Her presence is, invariably, more than enough.

Sevika has a girlfriend. 

It’s brought to your attention a month after she moves in. One day, Sevika asks you if her girlfriend can stay the night. “Is that okay with you?” She mutters, during the early hours of the morning.

You were aware that she had started seeing someone, but you didn’t think it was so… serious. 

Not serious enough for her to want the woman to sleep over. Not serious enough for her to ask your permission.

“If it’s not,” She adds. “I completely get it.” 

She wants to know if you’re okay with that idea. Oddly enough, the fact that she’s merely asking for permission is a gesture that spreads warmth inside of your chest. 

But there’s also a much stronger emotion that washes over you. For some reason, your instinctive reflex is to wrinkle your nose. You catch yourself trying to cloak that reaction by diving your nose into your mug and taking a hearty gulp of your tea. The liquid burns your throat.

After you swallow, you turn your back towards her, expressing a sudden interest in the toast she’s made you. Suddenly, you aren’t as woo’d by her request to make you breakfast. Did she butter your toast because she wanted to? Or because she was trying to lift your spirits, in hopes that you’d be okay with meeting her girlfriend? 

Your mouth sours. “Why would it bother me?” Your voice is hoarse from lack of usage. “You’re a grown woman. You can have anyone over that you’d like. I’m not like,” You clear your throat. “Your mother or anything.” Then you shove a piece of warm buttery toast into your mouth. You aren’t the type to eat toast on a daily basis, but since she’s moved in, you have. You hate how much she makes you love it. “Plus, you're on the lease. So this is your place too. You don’t have to ask me for permission.”

She hesitates before replying, “It's the polite thing to do.”

You roll your eyes.

Polite this and polite that.

Sevika’s always being polite with you, even when you don’t ask her to. Even when you don’t feel like you deserve it.

Even when you’re being anything but polite to her.

You hate that about her. She makes your muscles relax and your toes simultaneously curl. She makes your heart leap whilst somehow causing your breathing to even. She makes you feel like a walking contradiction. She makes you…

She makes you–

“She’s your girlfriend, Sev.” You don’t mean to seem disgruntled when you say this. But somehow–you just are. “If you want her to be here, let her be here.”

You grab your mug then your plate of toast, and head to your room.

“Thanks for breakfast!” You force yourself to sound chirpier. It’s an attempt to smooth things over, because you feel bad for being grumpy, even if you don’t have the emotional intelligence to actually correct it.

She doesn’t reply and she doesn’t follow after you.

You shut your bedroom door with a sigh. 

You meet Sevika’s girlfriend later that night. It’s brief. 

You had been eating pizza while watching reruns of The Nanny in the living room. Your mouth was full of crust when Sevika came traipsing through the living room, introducing you to her girlfriend while holding her hand.

“This is Monica,” She said. 

The first thing you noticed was that Monica was pretty. Big chocolate brown eyes, russet brown skin and a leggy figure.

Your chewing came to a halt then, eyes widening in surprise. A part of you wanted to shrink at that moment, due to your faded old tshirt and sweatpants. Monica was the sort of woman that you’d probably find yourself ogling any other day. But today was different, because she was Sevika’s Monica. And that made you feel…weird.

“Your tights are ripped,” Was the only reply you gave, zeroing in on the exposed patch of skin above her knee. It was the only flaw that you could spot at first glance. It was the only thing about her that didn’t make you feel small.

“Oh,” Monica mumbled, gazing down at her leg. “Um, thanks for.. Letting me know?”

Your lips pulled into a toothy grin, “Anytime.”

“Alright, well..” Sevika’s sentence trailed off as she took a few steps toward her room.

“I ordered pizza, by the way!” You called, hoping to keep her there. Just for a few more moments. “It’s from that favorite place of yours on Eastern Avenue.”

Her lips twitched when she peered at you, halting her steps. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

An awkward drag of silence filtered in.

Suddenly, you were aware of Monica’s presence again. “It was nice meeting you… Melissa, is it?

A laugh track from The Nanny sounded. You don’t remember the TV being so loud.

“Monica.”

“Oh, right.” Your grin widened. “Monica. That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.”

When you tore your gaze away from her, Sevika was grinding her jaw, glowering at you. 

Your teeth clenched through your smile, and it took all of your strength to keep from laughing. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Monica!”

She hummed quietly, seemingly offended. Sevika’s steps quickened. 

Seconds later, her bedroom door slammed shut.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t bothered by the idea of Sevika having a girlfriend. But it's not for the reasons that someone would assume.

You don’t care that she’s interested in another woman. No, that’s the least of your worries. You totally don’t care about that at all.

She can date whoever she wants to date.

It’s none of your business. Plus, she’s merely your roommate. Nothing more.

What you do care about is the fact that Monica doesn’t seem right for Sevika. Even though you're still trying to figure out why you feel that way—it still rings true to you hours after meeting her.

When you walk into the kitchen every morning, you’re normally met with the sight of Sevika making toast. You greet Sevika, and she talks with you about everything going on in her life. 

It’s a routine that the both of you have made. 

But Monica disrupts that.

It begins with her standing in the kitchen beside Sevika the morning after she sleeps over. And she's eating toast. 

Your toast.

Melodramatic or not, that’s your first straw.

“Hey,” Sevika smiles.

“Morning,” Monica chirps. 

You’re tired, eyes half shut, bonnet nearly slipping off your head and lips chapped. 

You try to muster up enough energy to be genial. 

But that’s disregarded when you see Monica reaching for a burgundy mug with yellow daisies. 

Your favorite mug.

Your eyes widen and your lips part.

“Oh,” Sevika mutters, swiftly grabbing the mug from Monica’s grasp. “That’s not yours.” She sets it down infront of her, before reaching for another mug and holding it towards Monica. It’s one that you rarely use. “This one is.”

Monica blinks owlishly, a little thrown off by Sevika’s quick interjection. But she takes the mug with nimble fingers, muttering, “Thanks.”

When you walk closer towards the island, Sevika tilts her head towards the daisy-ridden cup. It’s tea. “I hope it’s warm enough.” She says.

You’re groggy and still trying to recover from your fatigue. You had a late night. But you do have to admit that Monica’s presence doesn’t help your sour mood.

A part of you is aware that your dislike for Monica isn’t rational. But a bigger part of you doesn’t care.

“You look exhausted.” Sevika says.

You take a swig of tea. She’s made it exactly how you like it. 

“My colleague’s been out of office for a while so,” You sigh. “I’m stuck with the brunt of her work.”

Sevika’s lip tightens. “That doesn’t sound ethical.”

“Probably not. But,” You shrug. “That’s the way it’s going to be for now.”

Another swig of your tea while silence envelops the room.

Monica rests her head against Sevika’s shoulder, nibbling on her toast absentmindedly. You allow your gaze to linger on her for a few moments. She's close to perfect. Clear skin, sleepy doe eyes, pouty lips.

You don't question how she's caught Sevika’s attention. Anyone would be enamored by Monica’s beauty. 

That's something that you can at least acknowledge.

“Toast?” Sevika mutters, pulling you out of your reverie. When you glance at her, she’s waiting with a quizzical stare and quirk of her eyebrow. She's caught you staring and the better half of you feels the need to look rueful. But you settle for a small smile and shake of your head.

“No, I’m alright. I'm going to start some work soon.”

“Already?” Creases form in her forehead.

“Early bird gets the worm.”

You need a distraction. Sevika’s been taking up too much space in your brain lately. Especially since Monica is in the picture.

Work will help you recenter yourself—and it'll be nice to get out of the house. 

“See you later,” Monica interjects. Her voice is much smaller, eyes trailing to you slowly with a tentative grin. 

You find yourself halting, thrown off by her voice. 

For a small, small moment, you had forgotten she was there. 

Your eyes flicker to Sevika, who’s watching you with an incomprehensible expression. She rubs her lips together, creating the smallest craters in her cheeks. Cheeks that look quite soft to touch—to caress.

You blink away those thoughts before they have a chance to plant a seed of other desires into your mind. 

Nodding, you manage to return Monica’s grin, “See you.”

Then you're heading back towards your bedroom.

Sometimes, Monica is with Sevika while she grocery shops.

Those are the instances that you wish, more than ever, you had tagged along with Sevika instead.

Those are the few moments that you feel a sudden desire to embark on errands that you usually hate.

It’s been a little over a month since you’ve met Monica, and Sevika certainly didn't wait long until she started having her way with the girl.

It’s not like Sevika isn't allowed to have sex. You should have known this would happen at some point. This is her home too. And she’s an adult. She can do whatever she wants in her room—with whoever she wants.

But it starts to become an issue when you hear it.

Initially, it makes you laugh a little. Sure, it’s a little uncomfortable and causes your stomach to knot in a nauseating way, but it’s also fairly comical. The night begins with you relaxing in your room, watching a Julia Roberts rom-com on your television, while eating a bowl of ice cream. A loud knocking noise erupts halfway through the movie, and is what makes you pause your movie.

Then, fervorous cries are heard seconds later.

“Fucking unbelievable,” You mutter, jaw falling slack. 

You listen for a few moments while ice cream drips onto your cleavage. Then you frown at the sound of Monica wailing, passionately, “Oh Vika!” Which is followed by, “Oh my god. You're so good..Too good.”

Those words, within itself, are traumatic enough for you to press play on your remote and raise the television volume up to a thundering 40 decibels.

The next morning, when Monica is long gone, you sit in the living room with Sevika. She’s going over tattoo designs in her sketchbook, looking completely domestic in a pair of grey cotton sweats and a baby blue crewneck. You hate how enamored you are by the beauty of her brown skin, and how it seems to pair perfectly with the color of her sweatshirt. 

Liza Manelli sings before you on the television screen—surely a choice of yours rather than Sevika. But your roommate always seems to be content with whatever you put on.

It's only when she glances up from her sketchbook, catching you mid-stare, when she truly looks at you for the first time that day. She’s been absent minded for the majority of the evening.

She sends you a smile, “Hi.” She addresses genially.

“Hey,” You swallow. 

Then you take this opportunity as a cue to begin your complaint about the previous night. She’s in a good mood right now, and it’s better to hash it out sooner rather than later. 

Sevika listens intently. And when you're done, she nods, presses her lips into a firm line before apologizing earnestly.

Of course, you accept her apology right away. 

“All is well,” You respond.

Then, without more than a beat that passes, you find yourself adding, “Besides, from what I heard, it must have been worth it. You're too good, apparently.”

Sevika lips part, eyes darting to you with traces of shock. “Oh my god.”

“I mean,” A slow smile stretches across your face. “You're far, far too good.”

She groans. “I hate you.”

“Oh, Vika!” You mock, hand flying to your heart. You present your best impression of an impassioned Monica, voice lilting up to the same squeaky resonance as hers. “You're just…too-”

“Jesus. Shut up.”

You laugh because it's easier to laugh about it. At least when you do so, you aren't allowing yourself to focus on the nagging lump at the back of your throat.

Seconds pass before Sevika’s laughter joins you.

The next time Monica sleeps over is three days later. You find the pair slipping into the apartment late at night, hand-in-hand, while they steal quick kisses from each other. You're sitting in the dining room, watching it all unfold with a mug of tea in your hand.

“Fancy some tea?” You ask.

Monica screeches, jumping away from Sevika as her hand flies to her chest.

Your roommate halts her movements, turning towards you with a snap of her neck and a string of colorful words.

The lights flicker on.

“What the fuck?” Sevika grumbles.

“Sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted,” You raise your mug. “No need to stop on my account! I’ll head back to my ro-”

Deep lines etch into Sevika’s forehead. An incredulous expression paints her features. She shakes her head, almost out of pure disbelief. “Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?” Her grey irises flash with a hint of annoyance.

In all honesty, you had been scrolling through Facebook on your phone and must have lost track of time. You were having trouble sleeping again and your usual habit of music playing wasn't helping. So you decided to make yourself a cup of tea.

It’s past midnight; a time that Sevika is rarely out. If she does stay out this late, it’s because she's spending the night at Monica’s residence. You hadn't exactly expected either one of them to come walking through the door. But since they have, you might as well pick some fun.

You clench your teeth through a smile, trying your hardest to suppress your laughter. “So, I’m guessing that’s a no?” You clarify. “...To the tea?” 

Monica seems to be coming down from her fright, staring at you with furrowing eyebrows and a frown. Sevika rolls her lips into her mouth, placing both hands on her hips as she gazes down at the floor and leans onto her heels. You can tell that you're trying her patience. You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

From your articles of clothing laying around the house to the sound of your music playing late into the night—you've really been testing her. It’s something that you’ve found yourself doing ever since you overheard her and Monica having sex. An act of rebellion? Sure. Immaturity? Most definitely.

No matter how much you try to talk some sense into yourself, nothing can really dissolve the feelings that you have towards that night.

It’s affecting you deeper than you currently understand.

“You have a little something right…here,” You say, raising your hand to the corner of your mouth. Your observation is directed towards Monica, and she mirrors your actions, wiping away at her smudged lipstick. “Oh, you almost got it. Sev, why don't you help the poor girl out?”

Sevika hardens her gaze at you, a warning that you should probably heed.

A warning that you, instead, disregard.

Standing up, you grab your mug and add, “Last call for tea? Going once?” 

Monica lets out a bitter chuckle, peering at you under her lids before muttering something under her breath. She shakes her head, directing her attention to her nail beds.

“Twice?” You turn towards Sevika, who remains unamused. “Well, you can't say I didn't offer.”

You're not sure why that exactly makes Sevika snap.

Any other day, she'd happily say yes.

But tonight, you’ve seemed to provoke her.

Instead of being met with her charming smile, you're inflicted with the sight of steel eyes and hard lines. 

“May I speak with you for a moment?” She doesn't wait for you to respond, instead, turning on her heels and walking towards the living room.

You follow after her, without so much as a glance towards Monica. 

“What is it?” You ask, the moment that you step into the kitchen. You're barely able to get the question out before Sevika flips around, nearly knocking straight into you. 

You stumble backwards, attempting to regain your balance, as your head tilts back to meet her gaze.

There’s something about the way that Sevika towers over you that makes you feel emotions you’ve never experienced before.

You generally don't like to be around people who diminish you; who make you feel small. Despite the obvious height difference, Sevika’s never been the type of woman who’s made you feel like that—even with all of your insecurities considered.

But even in that moment, it’s almost as if she could swallow you whole.

As if she could consume you.

Even with all of her fiery anger considered… 

Even with—

“What's your problem?” Her question comes out cold and harsh. 

It takes a lot of effort for you to not flinch. You aren't used to her having such an attitude with you—this is something completely new.

“My problem?” Your response is akin to someone being deeply insulted. You don't even try to hide your anger. “Am I not allowed to enjoy some tea in my dining room, for Christ’s sa-”

“That's not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“I don't know what else you could be referring to.” Your arms fold across your chest while your wall of defense grows a foot taller. “Is it because I scared you? Scared her? I didn't think you’d be home. I assumed you would be at her place.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

Your lips purse as you roll your eyes. “...Don't know what you're talking about.”

“It's not like I haven't noticed it—she notices it. The way that you are around her…” Sevika tilts her head. “Are you trying to scare her away? Do you not like her? Because if so, I’d suggest that you say whatever the hell you need to say instead of acting like a teenager.”

Her breath mingles with yours, eyes flickering over your face with urgency. Looking. Searching for something.

Then she’s pulling away, putting space between the both of you as she leans against the kitchen island. 

Her attention diverts to the surface of the countertop, shoulders heaving as she tries to catch her breath. 

Although you probably asked for it, the effect of her words still land on your heartstrings, tugging painfully. Your ears ring and your gut twists. 

“I ran out of my ambien.” You announce, voice taut. “So if you fuck her tonight, will you be a dear and do so quietly?”

You set your mug in the sink, but with more strength than you intend, so it falls over with a loud clatter. Out of the corner of your eye, Sevika startles at the sound.

When you walk past her, her hand that is closest to you twitches. Then it moves, as if she’s reaching to stop you, but you're already swatting her away.

“Don't,” You say, just loud enough for her to hear.

Her hand falls. She concedes. A low curse slips from her mouth, but you don't stay around long enough to address it. 

Instead, the apartment remains silent for a few breaths as you slip back into your bedroom and ignore the cruel echo of regret.

#au writing #fanfic #piscespetals writing #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane au #arcane netflix #fluff #why are gays like this #roommate!sevika #divorced!sevika #sevika fic

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part two here

content: this fic is 4-5 chapters long. i'm still trying to figure out if i should condense it to 4 or keep it at five. mostly gay pinning, fluff, angst and small slivers of smut (not very good at smut writing but i'm trying)

word count: 5k

thanks for reading!

Chapter One

It all started when your best friend told you she was moving out…

You both shared a flat, and for the last near decade or so, everything had relatively been good.

Until it wasn't.

“I know it's kind of bittersweet but,” Mel shrugs, looking down at the ice cream cone in her hand. Remnants of the vanilla treat gather above her top lip. You almost say something but she licks it away with one clean swipe of her tongue. “Alicia has been talking about this for almost a year. And I think it's time we take the next step.”

Alicia is Mel’s long-term girlfriend. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. It's a miracle that they haven't already moved in together considering how long they’ve been in each other’s lives. You should be happy for them. You really should. But a part of you keeps thinking about the upcoming renewal of the lease and the empty space that’ll fill up Mel’s side of the apartment once she leaves.

The two of you have been living together for a huge chunk of your adulthood. Honestly, the thought of returning home to Mel has been your norm for almost as long as you’ve been filing tax returns.

And now—she’s moving.

Leaving.

Just like that.

“Oh,” She croons. Her ice cream cone nearly falls as she scooches closer to you. “Don't cry.”

Your tears drip down your cheeks before trailing the slope of your jaw.

You aren’t surprised. This reaction is warranted. You aren't good at goodbyes.

Actually, no—this isn't quite a goodbye.

But it sure as hell feels just as painful.

There's not enough breathing exercises that’ll prepare you for the life transition that's doomed to happen. A chapter of your adulthood is closing right before your eyes. Mel will move out, marry Alicia, and have annoyingly cute babies. You’ll be the designated bestfriend–turned–aunt that will always feel stuck; left behind. 

It will be horrible.

“Nothing will change,” Mel comforts. She tries to multitask the art of devouring her ice cream while slinging her free arm around you. Her bubbling optimism is nearly comedic compared to your wallowing spirits.

“Everything will change!” Your voice cracks, body jerking as your lungs cause you to inhale sharp uneven gasps. “You've replaced me with Alicia as your roommate. Is she asking for the best friend title too?”

“Oh god—babe,” Another lick of her ice cream. She's trying to contain her laughter. The nerve of her! “I’ll always be your best friend. You know that.” She squeezes your shoulder. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

Your eyes burn more and another melodramatic wail leaves you.

The image of you–old and decrepit–in a nursing home comes to fruition. You're in the bed, smelly and miserable, while Alicia and Mel stand before you. They're old too, but far more beautiful. Far more accomplished. Less lonely. Still married. Still happy. 

Oh, and their kids are probably there in the room too; asking Mel why “their Aunt hasn't been properly groomed?”

Mel is absolutely wrong.

Everything will certainly not be okay. 

After a few days of sulking, you have a change of heart when Mel says, “I think I’ve found you a new roommate.”

Suddenly, the imminent doom of Mel moving out doesn’t seem so harrowing. Of course it still saddens you–she’s your best friend after all–but you’re no longer burdened with the stress of trying to find her replacement. 

You and Mel butt heads about a ton of senseless things, but she never disappoints you on the most important matters. 

So if she thinks that someone is suitable enough to be your roommate, then you have hope that she’s right. 

“Who?” Your head snaps up as you look at her. She stands on the other side of the kitchen island, elbows leaning against the wooden countertop and chin resting in her palms. You were mopping the floor–a truly rare occurrence for you–when Mel came out of her room to announce the good news. 

“You know how Alicia goes out with her teammates every now and then?” 

Your memory travels to the brief conversations of Mel mentioning this in the past. Alicia used to be a college athlete during her undergrad. Apparently, she still has a budding relationship with a few of her old teammates, and likes to go to dinners with them to catch up every few months. 

“Well,” Mel continues. “Her friend, Sevika, hasn’t been able to come to the dinners these last few years because she lived up north for a while. But she’s back in town. And I guess she doesn’t like the place she’s at. Apparently, it’s too close to the city. Too hectic. She’s been looking at places in our neighborhood. And when Alicia mentioned it to me, I just figured...”

You nod slowly in understanding, “Oh.”

“I mean, it’s kind of working out perfectly…rather coincidental but I just thought it would make you feel better if your next roommate wasn’t a complete stranger.”

“Do you know her well?”

“I’ve hung out with Sevika countless times before she moved away.” The brown irises of Mel’s eyes become distant; as if she’s drifting off to another time. “God, that feels like so long ago somehow... But I think you’d like her.” Her lips pull into a small smile. “She seems a bit remote at first but it’s all fun and games. I promise.”

“Okay,” You shake your head, trying to wrap your brain around it all. “And you’re sure that she’s–I mean, not that I don’t trust your word. I’m just nervous, I suppose. She isn’t like–”

“Sevika’s good people,” Mel laughs, gazing at you with understanding. “But I get it. So here’s what I was thinking… We can host a brunch and invite her over? That way you can meet her formally and get to know her. Maybe show her around the place? As much as I want this to pan out great, it’s still your decision to make at the end of the day.” She pauses a few beats, trying to gauge your reaction. “What do you think?”

Your hands fiddle with the top of the swiffer handle as you weigh your options. You had put together a more elaborate and time consuming plan prior to today; which would have consisted of flyers and roommate interviews and even Facebook posts. Of course, posting to Facebook would have been the last resort; an addition to the plan that you only added out of mere desperation. But it was a plan nonetheless.

Mel’s offer is more tempting. 

“Okay,” You sigh, squeezing the handle of the swiffer. “But if this doesn’t work out, then you owe me ice cream.”

She beams, clapping her hands together excitedly. 

“And not the cheap kind,” You add. “I’m talking Cold Stone.”

Mel doesn’t appear to be fazed. Instead, she turns on her heels, making her way back to her room. “I’m gonna call Alicia and let her know!” The exclamation has a song-like lilt to it; a clear indication of her delight.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting off a grin while you carry the swiffer to the trash can.

Your thumb absentmindedly plays with the stringy bracelet decorating your right wrist; a gift that Mel gave you over ten years ago when the two of you first became friends. It’s nearly falling apart now, but still a staple piece in your daily attire. You find yourself looming over the possible outcome of tonight’s gathering–for the ‘nth time–as your stomach stirs with unease. 

It’s not like you haven’t been obsessively ruminating over this very evening. It’s all you’ve been able to think about ever since Mel helped you plan it last week. But despite all of the preparation, your mouth still remains dry.

You’re seated at the dining table, with Mel to your right and Alicia right across from her. Sevika faces you directly, which is a circumstance you tried to desperately avoid upon Mel’s suggestion.

“How do you guys like the food?” Mel asks. “I can proudly say that I’ve managed to keep the kitchen intact while I was preparing it.”

Alicia’s eyes twinkle when she glances at her girlfriend. “It’s good, honey. Thank you.”

A pair of alert grey irises flicker to you: Sevika’s. 

The woman studies you with a gaze that is piercing and direct. She takes you in fully–something that she’s been doing all night–which makes you feel as if you’re under inspection. You can’t decide whether or not you like that about her.

“It was nice, Mel.” You reply. You wolfed down your food the minute your plate was served. So now you’re just awkwardly waiting for everyone else to finish their meal.

You usually don’t eat so quickly, but the task gave you something else to distract yourself with, rather than Sevika’s scrutiny. 

But despite doing everything possible to avoid her stare, you can’t help but notice the calm and leisure way she eats her food. From what you’ve gathered, she doesn’t seem fond of mixing meals with conversation. But there’s still a pleasant way that she dines. 

The oscillation of her jaw, especially with every chew, is a trait that you find particularly distracting…

“So, are you enjoying your return to town?” Mel inquires, turning to Sevika. She’s always had the talent of conversing with the least willing. 

It takes a few seconds for Sevika to shift her gaze away from you.

You feel your muscles relax when she does.

“Yeah, it’s been good,” Sevika’s voice adopts an amiable timbre; a pattern you’ve picked up on every time she addresses Mel. “The traffic sucks on the east side, but that's nothing new.”

Mel hums in understanding. “Well, I think you’ll like it here.The people are quieter. Life is slower.” 

That’s when Alicia takes that as her cue to wrap her arm around Sevika’s shoulder. They’re both nearly the same height, only Alicia is leaner. 

“It’s good that you’re back home,” Alicia butts in. “You’re getting wrinkles. You’ve been frowning too much.”

Sevika rolls her eyes. “I’ve been perfectly fine.”

“Is that so? I heard…”

You’re ripped from their conversation when Mel wraps her fingers around your bicep. She leans into your ear, whispering, “Let’s go to the kitchen.” 

You follow her without question.

It’s not until you’re grabbing the fruit salad out of the refrigerator when she says, “How are you liking her so far?”

You bite the inside of your cheek while carrying the dessert to the counter. 

“I don’t know.” You try to sort through your feelings to find some sort of opinion–anything–that can help you identify your stance. But it’s to no avail. “She’s a bit intense, don’t you think?” 

“Well,” Mel snickers. “I suppose.”

You glance up at her, noticing the way that she’s covering her smile with her hand. She flutters her eyelashes coyly, “But is that not a good thing? You’ve been staring at her all evening.” She continues, wiggling her eyebrow.

“Please don’t.”

“What? I’m just saying…”

“There’s nothing that needs to be said.”

“...the tension has been palpable ever since you laid eyes on her. You don’t have to make it into a bad thing, babe. You both are grown adults here.” 

Your jaw is clenching when you mutter, “Well, you're off-base on this one.”

You think you hear her laugh again, but you don’t have the energy to entertain it. Instead, you turn around and march back to the dining room.

Your eyes are slightly droopy from the combination of wine and dinner that sloshes in your belly.

Under the haze of the ceiling lamps, you stand with your arms folded across your chest.

“This would be your room,” You’re mumbling. Sevika hums beside you, only a few feet away. She’s so far yet so close. Too close.

Yet not close enough.

You feel silly for thinking such thoughts. 

It must be the wine.

The floorboards creak underneath her weight as she inspects the room. It has a fair amount of space in it. It’s larger than your room for sure. The connecting bathroom is smaller than yours though–a bargain that you and Mel made over a decade ago.

Sevika travels to a nearby wall, inspecting the paint job for a few seconds before peering at you.

Despite the warmth emanating from the heating system, a cool shiver runs through you. 

Your voice dips with humor when you explain that, “Mel painted it a while back.”

You examine the way she pushes her tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of her nose. A vein from her right forearm flexes due to the movement. 

She smiles, poised and reposeful. 

“Figures,” That’s when you notice the fullness of her lips—her prominent cupid's bow, and how well they look when spread into a grin like that.

She stretches her arms above her head, back arching as she seemingly holds back a yawn. You fight the urge to do the same, eyes trailing over her physique before you can stop yourself. Sevika looks strong–really strong. Her arms are thick bands of pure muscle and her broad shoulders barely concave from the movement.

She’s wearing a long-sleeved button up, which has a toffee silk-like material. You don’t realize how low her black slacks are sitting on her hips until the hem of her shirt rises. A happy trail peaks through, as well as deeply grooved muscles. 

The sight feels sacrilegious and simultaneously pious. Your eyelids are heavy, droopy, when her muscles relax and her arms fall to her sides. You draw your attention back to her face. She’s caught you, eyebrows lifted and lips pursed to the side–an attempt to mask her amusement? You don’t know. Or at least, you don’t want to. 

With the sudden pounding of your heart, you gesture behind you, “I can show you the laundry room?” Your desire to escape has never felt so prominent until then.

You're beginning to realize that she makes it hard for you to breathe when you’re around her.

Laughter rings in the air between everyone–Sevika, you, Alicia and Mel–while Alicia tells a funny story about a customer she had a few days prior. You’re wearing one of your nighttime sweaters now, a glass of wine in your hand, while all of you sit in the living room. 

Sevika cards her hand through her hair. It’s no longer in its bun, meeting the sides of her face with buoyancy. The length is much longer than you initially thought, stopping a few inches below her neck; a feathery cut that frames her face quite perfectly.

She sits with her legs parted, left arm resting along the back of the couch. Her fingers lay a few inches from your right shoulder. With a mere flex of her hand, she’d be able to touch you. 

Amidst the ring of Alicia’s voice–she’s going into detail about another story now–you turn to Sevika and ask, “Are you a heavy sleeper?”

You receive a better angle of her chiseled jaw when she tilts her head, expression contemplative while she thinks of an answer. You aren’t sure why it takes her so long since it’s not necessarily a loaded question to ask, but still—you allow her to think.

“Not really,” Her eyes dart back to you. “Is that a deal breaker?”

“I'm not sure,” You blink through a daze, overcome with an unexpected wave of tranquility due to her regard. “I listen to music sometimes in the middle of the night. It helps with my insomnia.”

“...Well, is it loud?”

“Not all the time. But you may hear it faintly.”

A nod. “Then that’s fine with me.”

You swivel the wine in your hand, “Besides going out for work, a lot of my hobbies consist of me being at home. You’ll probably see me a lot.”

“Not a problem.”

“I’m not incredibly messy or dirty but…” Your palms sweat from the loose confession. “I’m not a neat freak. And I don't like mornings. I'm really grumpy any hour before 11. Like—I will not speak if I can avoid it. And I’m a terrible cook.”

She looks away from you momentarily, lips rubbing together as her hand flexes. You grow rigid at the motion; she’s only inches away from coming in contact with your shoulder. Then her fingers relax. She looks back at you. Her lips part, “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

Her left eyebrow twitches. “You call the shots. If you don't think it’ll work, I can look into renting somewhere else.”

“I'm just trying to be transparent with you as much as possible.” 

You don't want any surprises. The last thing you need is the false hope of thinking this will work just to ultimately have the infamous roommate disagreements that you've heard too much about. 

You got lucky with Mel. 

For 13 years, you’ve managed to have the best roommate dynamic. But now she's leaving soon. And you fear that those 13 years have just been a fluke.

If Sevika is truly serious about moving in, you need to make sure that it'll be a right fit.

“Do you have any kids?” You find yourself asking.

She lets out a gusty breath; a dry chuckle mixed with a hint of disbelief. For a second, you fear that you've offended her.

But then she's replying, “God no.” She grins with her head slightly shaking. You swear she leans a few inches closer as she adds, “Do you?”

You blink. You swallow. You try to not get distracted by the swirling grey of her irises. They're quite pretty. Too pretty. Unbelievably pretty.

“Definitely not.” 

Her grin widens, “Okay, so we at least have that in common.” She allows her eyes to flicker to other features of your face; your eyebrows, then your cheeks, then your nose. “Are there any other incriminating questions that you have?”

“Of course.”

She laughs again and her eyes fall shut. There's a part of you that wants to draw closer to her at that moment. But you remain where you are; as if you’re resisting the tug of a rope. 

“Okay,” She mutters, voice a gentle hum while her lips remain pulled into a grin. 

“Does that annoy you?” You find yourself asking. It’s a silent test. You want to know if this will turn her away. Is she willing to answer your long list of questions? And if she is–will you find something about her that you don’t like? 

“No, I don’t mind at all.” Her eyes flutter open slowly, blazing a stormy grey when they land on you. “Ask however many questions you need.” 

Her hand flexes once more. This time you feel it. It’s the slightest graze, and too fleeting for it to feel real. The tip of her forefingers brush against the material of your shirt, at the very top of your bicep, before she’s running her hand through her hair. It could have been an accident–a mere sweep due to her close proximity–but you guess you’d never truly know.  

Your breathing falters. She blinks at you with a placid expression, seemingly unfazed. 

“Okay,” You clear your throat, shifting your weight restlessly. You try to put more distance between you two by subtly scooting a few inches to your left.

“...Going to get some more wine. Be right back!’ Mel calls. 

The bubble around you and Sevika bursts.

You’re submerged into the sound of the TV playing an Old Navy commercial. Alicia stares at the screen with droopy eyes, feet propped up in the recliner chair and hands clasped together as they rest on her stomach. She hums lazily at Mel’s announcement. Faintly, you begin to hear Mel rummaging through the kitchen: the clanging of silverware, the rush of running water, then the thump! of a closing cupboard. The calming livelihood of Mel and Alicia’s existence buzzes around you. But you somehow find yourself turning back towards Sevika because, although you don't want to admit it, she’s a new enigma that’s hurdled into your life. 

She beholds you with remarkable patience, elbow now resting against the back of the couch as she cradles her temple with her hand. 

“So…” She says, voice laced with an expectation. She’s waiting on you.

“Right,” You nod. You shake your head in an attempt to clear the brain fog. Must be the alcohol... "Do you smoke?”

Sevika does smoke; she has a preference for cigars. 

She’s a tattoo artist, which you never pinned her for. But after a few seconds of contemplation, it makes sense. She tells you that it’s been her career for a long time now.

She’s quite the morning person and a bit meticulous about her living environment. She likes to cook and happily divulges in burning incense. She doesn't have very many friends, but the ones she does have are practically her family—who, she assures with an unwavering gaze, are people that, “You will love.”

She doesn't watch much television, but she does have a knack for sports. “I like to have my friends over on game days,” She admits, sending you a sidelong glance. “Would that be something you're okay with?”

Not much time passes before you're nodding your head yes.

Sevika has no siblings and no parents. Her parents passed away a while back–a fact that you seemed more saddened by than her–and left her their house, which is why she moved out of town a few years ago.

When you ask her why she’s decided to return, she doesn't answer. 

It’s your only question that makes her come to a full stop.

When the night ends and she’s getting ready to leave the apartment with Alicia quickly behind her, it’s the only question that's lingering in your mind.

And after Mel closes the door, bolts it shut and asks, “Any red flags from Sevika?”

It’s the sole reason why you find yourself hesitating, wanting—for some strange reason—to tell Mel yes. Even though every fiber of your being knows that the true answer is no.

Sevika’s vehicle is exactly the sort of car you’d picture her in. A sleek black Ram 1500 sits in front of you. Your eyes are wandering. You can't help it. You don't want to make it into a thing. It's only a truck after all…

But you've always admired cars, especially the big shiny ones.

 “I would have showed you this days ago had I known you’d be so pleased,” Sevika muses. That's when you draw your attention back to her. "I didn't know you liked cars so much."

She's gazing at you with the smallest form of a smirk on her face. You want to wipe it off; you feel vulnerable somehow. Exposed.

Your blink wordlessly, breath shallowing and palms clamming up. 

How is she so infuriatingly good looking? 

Then, as if you've suddenly become aware of everything else about her, you're taking the rest of her body into account. Her bulging biceps are flexed due to the moving box in her arms. Small beads of sweat collect at the base of her neck…some sliding into the dips of her collarbones. Her hair is pulled into a low bun, highlighting the clenching of her jaw as she chews her gum; minty breath wafting towards you. Your stomach dips. 

“Shut up,” You mutter.

Her grin widens. She laughs. You struggle to suppress one yourself. 

She doesn't say anything else.

You stand awkwardly by her truck as she turns to walk into the apartment. 

A part of you doesn't know what to make of this. Here you are, moving a woman that you've just met into your apartment, with no idea of how this will turn out.

You feel like you're floundering through life. Surely, everyone else your age is settled down with a family and a secure living environment—not stressing over the prospect of a new roommate. This situation feels too…juvenile. It would make sense for a younger version of yourself to be facing roommate insecurity. It would make sense for your younger self to grow uncharacteristically flustered and perturbed around someone like Sevika.

But not now. No—certainly not now.

The sound of Sevika’s footsteps pull you from your reverie. When you glance in her direction, the first thing you notice is the quirk of her eyebrows. You shift your weight, wringing your hands as you work up the courage to say, “I can help,” You clear your throat. “If you want.”

She’s in the middle of grabbing another box from her car but stops mid-reach from the sound of your offer. She cranes her neck, lines appearing in her forehead as she mutters, “I’m good.”

You take offense to that. Does she think you're weak? That you're not strong enough to carry a few stupid boxes? Or worse—has she already found a reason to dislike you?

Goosebumps trail up your back.

“I’m strong enough, you know.” You find yourself tilting your chin up defiantly. 

“Is that so?”

“I may not be ripped like you,” You fold your arms across your chest and you hear a snort. A fucking snort! “But I don't do pilates for nothing."

That's when she stands upright, two stacked boxes now in her arms. She manages to rest them on her left hip, closing the back door in one swift motion.

"Yeah?" Then she’s tilting her head slightly, appraising you with an expression that nearly sets you on fire. "You think I'm strong?"

The world around you spins and you're nearly knocked off balance.

There's a part of your spirit that uncurls. Heat plants a seed in your gut then burns, burns, burns.

Perspiration has gathered at the base of your neck, and one bead of sweat drips down the slope of your spine. Then another. You're scowling at her, a reaction that she seems to enjoy, when you feel the drip of one more.

She takes your silence without question. Her irises trail down to your crossed arms then back up to your face before continuing. “You don't have to lift a single one of those pretty fingers for me.” Then you feel her warmth—her touch—at the tip of your chin. It's a small brush with her index finger, yet strong enough to tilt your head before she's pulling away. Then she's grabbing the boxes with both of her hands, snickering under her breath while adding, “But since you seem like the adamant type—be my guest, darling.”

Your legs tremble when she brushes past you.

For the rest of the evening, you allow her to settle into the apartment without your help.

“Sevika?” Your voice is scratchy from lack of use. “Can you help me?”

You're frustrated because you can't find your favorite mug. The entire kitchen is spotless—a sort of clean you haven't seen in ages. You're grateful for Sevika—truly, you are. But due to how organized it all is, you now have difficulty locating everything. The way she cleans and sorts through the apartment is completely different from your way. 

Irritated, you call her name again. But no answer.

You know that she’s in her room because her door is closed. It’s only been a few days since she’s moved in but you’ve started to notice that she likes to leave it open when she's not in there. 

You sigh, storming to her room. You have a taste for tea, something you've been craving all morning. And now that you've finally finished your work, you’d been so excited to drink it. 

But now you're completely turned about by the state of the kitchen. Nothing is where you usually keep it.

“Sevika!” You practically bark, voice growing thin. “Are you awake?”

You're about to knock on her door—a disturbance that would surely wake her if she's in a deep slumber—but then it flies open. And there she stands, wearing a pair of boxers and a tank top. She appears to have just showered, hair seemingly damp and towel in her hand. That familiar woodsy scent of hers hits you like a tide wave, but this time it’s tenfold stronger than what it usually is.

“Is there a reason why you're shouting my name at 10 AM?”

You swallow thickly. Your mouth has suddenly become dry. “I can't find the mugs.”

Sevika blinks slowly then mutters, “What?”

“The mugs. They're a type of cup, cylindrical in size? Often used to drink things like coffee, tea, hot ch-”

“They're in the cupboard by the refrigerator.”

“...”

“...”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why are they in there? I’ve never put them there before.”

“You could barely reach the cupboard they were originally in—”

“That's why I have a stepping stool!”

“So I figured it would be easier if they were moved to one that's more accessible for you. I told you about this Tuesday. Do you not remember?”

“...You never told me that.”

“Yes,” Her jaw grinds. “I did. You were talking to Mel on facetime and nearly ate shit when grabbing that awfully gaudy mug you like,” Oh. “So I told you that I would move it to the cupboard by the refrigerator,” Oh. “And you looked me right in the eye, smiled and said you thought that was a great idea.” Fuck. “...Do you not remember that?”

That’s right.

You did say that.

Your heartbeat skips from the piercing silence.

God, she's going to think you're crazy now.

Sevika sighs. 

Shoving down a mountain of guilt, you shift your weight, “I’m sorry. I don't think I actually processed that conversation when it happened.”

She isn't quick to reply, and you're not sure where to go from there. So you add, “Um, would you like some tea?”

As a peace offering, you make Sevika a cup of tea the next morning too.

The third day is when you have to go back to work, so you force yourself awake earlier than you want. There's still a small chip of guilt weighing on your shoulders that morning, so you fix Sevika a cup of tea again.

You also do it for that following morning because it's Saturday. Who wouldn't want tea on Saturday?

Sunday is a lazy day for Sevika. But somehow she's already in the kitchen when you stumble in at a harrowing 8am. She's waiting for the toaster oven to sound when you pull two mugs out of the cupboard. Even after the appliance dings, she lingers with you in the kitchen, silently eating her toast while you prepare the kettle. Ten minutes later, she’s drinking her tea while her elbows lean against the island counter. 

You hold onto your mug tightly and listen to the chirping of the birds in the distance. The only other sound that is audible are her even breaths. 

You don't know how you've settled into such a routine after 8 days of living with her. But somehow, standing in the middle of the kitchen together with nothing but comfortable silence, you think that you’ve found the oasis of serenity.

#au writing #piscespetals writing #fanfic #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane au #arcane netflix #fluff #arcane women #divorced!sevika #sevika x y/n #sevika pls marry me #sevika x you #roommate!sevika

[piscespetals]

okay but i can't stop imagining what life would be like as Sevika's wife; particularly, during the days you both become fully domesticated.

maybe she lets her hair grow too long. it gets in the way of her mouth and clings to the back of her neck, and she thinks it's annoying. so she allows you to trim it for her.

maybe it's a sunday, the morning rise slow and the air wafting with the smell of bacon and eggs that have just been cooked.

and maybe she has a hard time outwardly acknowledging this gesture of love; but you notice her appreciation in the smallest quirks that she displays.

when you both huddle together in her box-sized bathroom—sevika sitting on the toliet while you stand between her parted legs—the pads of her thumbs trace your hip bones with a familiar delicacy.

a silent thank you.

when you hold a pair of scissors with your right hand, left hand tilting her chin for better leverage, the ghost of a smile curves onto her lips.

a silent thank you.

the apartment sits quietly, only interrupted by the occasional snip! of your scissors. she marvels at the way your tongue pokes out due to concentration. her lashes flutter but you don't notice because you've already looked away. you're preoccupied with wiping the blades against a clean towel sitting on a nearby countertop, when she leans forward and brushes against your stomach. her lips are feathery light; pursing slightly in deep reverence. it's another one of her kisses that heals you.

a silent thank you.

when she pulls back, the center of her eyes swirl with raw appetence. her thumbs restart their caressing. her breathing evens. your soul reposes. sunshine illuminates your heart.

and your snipping resumes.

#au writing #fluff #piscespetals writing #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika writing #i am not okay #happy sunday #sevika imagine #fanfic #arcane au #arcane netflix

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika comforts you after having a nightmare

content: fluff, arcane au, soft!sevika

You can't see.

The sound of your own gasping breath causes a nauseating sensation to settle within you. Everything around you is stark black, with no sign of anything familiar to pull you back to reality.

"It's okay," Her voice just barely keeps the dam from breaking. "It's okay now. I'm here."

Another sobs rips through you.

"I know," Her coaxing is tender. "It's okay. I promise." And even though she hadn't just relived your dream, you believe her. You know that she knows. She gets it. She gets you. Somehow, without you having to explain anything, she remains right here; understanding exactly what you need. "You're safe now."

Light illuminates the room suddenly. Despite the gentle click of her bedside lamp, the change is still jarring. Your eyes begin to burn as they struggle to adjust to your restored vision.

She stares back at you with piercing grey pools of care.

In that moment, the world rights itself again.

She doesn't say anything more. Your breathing calms to a steady pace, hair rising at the base of your neck as you realize that this is all you had needed. You can't help but marvel at how easy this is. How easy she makes it. All of those months of crying yourself awake, struggling through nightmares and flashbacks, only to realize that the simple gaze of someone you care for has washed it all away.

"I'm right here." She reminds you. And then you're pressed against the side of her, your head buried in her neck as her left arm circles around your waist. Naturally, you allow your legs to rest over hers. The cool surface of her headboard against your back is the only thing that keeps you from fully melting into her embrace.

Your hands grip onto her arm, the same arm wrapped around you, and you can't help but give her a light squeeze. It's an unspoken thank you. A gesture that you know she understands. She always understands.

Beads of sweat drip down the sides of your face and onto her shoulder. You don't bother to wipe them away.  And you don't think she necessarily cares.

Once you finally muster up enough courage to speak, you mumble, "It was a bad dream."

Her hold around you tightens. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You pause to ponder on her offer. Then you snort out a weird combination of a chuckle and sigh. "Not tonight. But I am more concerned that it's," You glance at the digital clock on her nightstand. "2 am in the morning and you somehow aren't tired of me."

"Why would I be?"

You lift your head, a wave of disbelief washing over you. "I've managed to disturb your sleep at 2am in the morning, Sev. Who wouldn't be even slightly annoyed by that?"

Even though you're grateful to be in this predicament, you hadn't necessarily thought you would ever get to this point with Sevika. Your friend group often teased her about being emotionally constipated. When you first met her, a month had passed before she even initiated a conversation. She wasn't the most outgoing. And she wasn't usually the type to hold people during strange hours of the night and listen to them complain about their issues.

But here she is. Holding you—asking you to complain. You struggle to fully understand why.

"The time of night is the least of my concerns right now." Sevika replies, pulling you out of your reverie. You're close enough for her breath to tickle your lips. Her pupils are dilated, gaze flickering to a space between your eyebrows. Then they trickle down to the slope of your nose before she peers at your lips. "Are you sure you don't need to talk about anything?"

You swallow thickly, reveling in the feeling of her skin against yours. Her hand slides to the base of your neck, fingers rubbing into the back of your scalp; holding you there. Tethering you to her.

A lump lodges itself in your throat. The sweetness of it all becomes painfully overwhelming. You aren't used to her being like this. And you definitely hadn't expected it. Every passing day that the two of you grow closer, the more that Sevika surprises you. The layers that come with her are multifaceted and sometimes entirely the opposite of what you initially thought.

Like now.

You blink slowly. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

A lapse of silence follows. Her eyebrows raise, head tilting in slight annoyance. You can already tell that she thinks your question is ridiculous. "You know why."

You suddenly feel naked despite being fully clothed.

Her gaze is unwavering, dark full lips parted and absolutely stunning. Your heart hammers in your ribcage. You're almost convinced it'll leap out of your chest as her words echo through your ears: You know why.

There's something between the both of you that's been boiling for a while now. You've been aware of it. It doesn't take rocket science for you to realize that friendships don't usually consist of shared kisses and slow morning rises with countless cuddles and breakfast food. At least, that's not how it's been for you with your past friendships.

But despite the line that's obviously been crossed, the both of you have yet to define exactly what you mean to each other.

It's something that you haven't been willing to say—for the fear of being rejected. For the fear of scaring Sevika away (it's taken a long time for her to become completely comfortable with you), and also for the fear of things changing.

You don't like change.

Not when everything is already perfect as it is.

But the signs are starting to become increasingly harder to ignore when she says things like 'You know why.'

"Did I scare you off..." She asks, grip tightening around your scalp in an attempt to regain your attention. It's a habit of hers you've grown to love. Your body grows rigid, a powerful magnetic force hitting you right in the gut. Within seconds, she loosens her grip, scratching gently into your scalp, completely oblivious to the sparks that she's triggered.

"No," You reply, mind fuzzy. "The opposite, really."

Her expression remains placid, as usual. But there's a tender shift in her eyes. It's subtle but it's there.

She tugs you closer to her and that's when you realize that you're in an awkward position of halfway sitting in her lap. You find yourself shifting your weight, trying to get comfortable despite the crick in your lower back.

"Here," She mumbles, pulling you towards her more. You allow her to guide you before repositioning yourself. You face her as you sit in her lap fully, legs straddling her. Both of her arms take this moment as an opportunity to wrap around your hips. Your heartbeat jumps up to your throat.

These feelings, these thoughts, are something that you don't ever think you'll get used to. Your mind can't help but focus on her half-lidded sleepy eyes, and how perfect they are when gazing at you in this way. She's wearing a tank top, which displays her broad shoulders and bulging bicep muscles.

And her hands....

God. Those hands.

She squeezes your hips and you bite your tongue to keep from reacting too strongly.

"Where do you keep going?" She inquires, searching your face with mild concern. She taps gently on one of your temples. "You don't always have to think so hard, you know."

Your throat is dry.

Like, desert dry.

You try to swallow but you can't.

Because she's so fucking handsome and caring in this moment.

You swallow thickly, an undeniable hunger rumbling through you. Out of complete desire, you reach up, fingertips brushing against the warmth of her brown skin.

You nod. "I know."

Then you bring your other hand up to cup her right cheek, caressing her for a few gentle moments, before traveling down to her neck. Your fingers graze against a few of her scars, rubbing gently into the skin, testing out the waters; hoping that this sort of intimacy is okay. She sighs at the feeling. Her eyes soften.

"You were screaming," She continues. "And no matter how hard I was trying to wake you, you wouldn't budge. I was worried."

Your eyes widen, realization settling within you from her admission.

She's still worried.

The kind of worry that she's never shown towards you before.

The kind of deep-seeded worry that people only have for those they really care about.

"I'm okay." You reassure her. Your hands shake as you squeeze her shoulders. "It was just a dream. Nothing worth mentioning for the time being, but I'm okay." Your chest hurts. Your throat hurts...your eyes. All of it. Feelings crash into one another, creating an impactful explosion within your heart. "You're here with me. So I'm more than okay."

Her eyes resemble something raw—almost close to...

"Okay." Her expression becomes heady. She allows her gaze to focus on your lips, incredibly transparent in her wanting—not holding back in the slightest with her intentions.

You analyze her in return, both confused and curious by her behavior. She lingers for so long, close enough for you to taste her breath, yet so far away. Your heart jumps into your throat as she peers back with an indescribable glint.

You feel a strong surge overtake you with a stuttering breath before you're leaning forward.

Lips and breath draw together, forming into the shape of one, and shooting a trail of shivers straight down your spine. Your mind buzzes, her affection unraveling you; breaking you. She's all soft skin and devastating fervor, with sounds of stars exploding between you two. The feeling of her holding you with immense regard—and the sensation of her chest pressing against yours, hands chaining you to her lap, digging into the flesh of your thighs with a delicious strength—has you falling apart pathetically.

You can certainly determine that there's been poems written about Sevika. The push-and-pull feeling of such perfection like her, with all of her charm and strength, is the sort of beauty that not every human is lucky enough to come across.

She bites and sucks and licks and it's otherworldly. Kisses melt into one another as a rhythm of panting and gasping materializes. She pulls away, lips planting into warm patterns against your neck. Your head tilts, need washing through every inch of your body.

Your grip on her shoulders tighten almost dangerously—to pull her close? Or steady yourself?—You can't be sure anymore. But she doesn't seem to mind, moaning into your mouth at the action.

Sevika is the first one that breaks away, lips puffy and pulled into a gorgeous grin.

Your lungs nearly collapse at the sight. This kind of smile that she wears is rare, laugh lines prevalent around her mouth with her gapped teeth on full display.

"As long as you continue to do that," You utter, still struggling to catch your breath.  "I'm pretty sure I'll always be okay." Then you shake your head, attempting to center yourself from the high.

She chuckles knowingly, smile widening so much that her face almost breaks. "I'll make sure to hold you to that."

#lesbian #arcane au #fanfic #sevika x you #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #fluff #arcane netflix #au #au writing #soft!sevika #piscespetals writing

[piscespetals]

I always wonder what it's like to have a drink with Sevika...

╰┈➤ To experience a night of typical adult fun, amongst the crowd of a low-lit bar; the air buzzing with Friday evening excitement.

╰┈➤ Maybe you've been friends for a while, introduced by a coworker, but this is the first time that the both of you have agreed to actually meet somewhere.

╰┈➤ To be honest, I imagine that it's easy to spot her the very minute that you walk into the bar.

╰┈➤ She pretty much looks the same as she usually does. The only difference is the black leather jacket that now hugs every curve of her bicep muscle. Her shoulder broadens as she rests her hip against the counter, head hung low and back facing you.

╰┈➤ You exhale shakily at the thought of spending the evening with such a gorgeous person (because honestly who wouldn't?), trying to shove down your nerves for the sake of your own dignity. The last thing you need is another hour of embarrassing yourself in front of her.

╰┈➤ "Hey."

╰┈➤ She turns around at your greeting, eyebrows quirking up expectantly. "I was worried you weren't going to show for a sec."

╰┈➤ "Oh," You chuckle stupidly, shifting your weight. Gods, beautiful people really did make you feel dumb. "Well, I'm here."

╰┈➤ That when Sevika's lip twitches slightly upwards. Her gaze lazily darts to the way that you drum your fingers across your thigh. Your cease your fidgeting immediately, flattening your palm against the material.

╰┈➤ “I see." She murmurs, eyes dancing with a humor that you've grown to admire. Then, she reaches over to the chair beside her, which just so happen to be in front of you, and pulls it out so that you can sit. Your stomach stirs at the action. It's small but speaks volumes. Sevika isn't the type to pull out a chair for just anyone. Biting back a smile, you take a seat.

╰┈➤ "What are you drinking?" She asks.

╰┈➤ You find the courage to glance at her more closely now. She rests almost all of her weight on her right elbow, merely inches away from you. She uses her left hand to gesture to the menu on the tabletop. "There's food too."

╰┈➤ "Good because I'm starving." You find yourself muttering.

╰┈➤ She points to your side of the menu, shoulder bumping into yours, once again, while doing so. You struggle to ignore the tingling sensation it causes. "This burger is good. And their fries."

╰┈➤ You notice that she's pointing to a vegetarian burger on the menu. You've mentioned your vegetarian diet to Sevika once before. But it was so brief that you never thought she'd remember it.

╰┈➤ Her jacket brushes ever so slightly against your arm when she retracts her finger from the menu; her delicious scent of cologne swarming the air and causing your toes curl.

╰┈➤ The lowlights in the building highlight the silver grey shade of her eyes. And every time she blinks, her long lashes manage to brush against the sharp edge of her cheekbones. In that moment, you want to feel all of the hard edges that she has.

╰┈➤ That desire dims just enough for you to hear her call your name. Her brows are furrowing as she glances up from the menu to meet your pressing gaze.

╰┈➤ You blink out of your thoughts, squirming at the pull resonating deep in your gut from being caught.

╰┈➤ "Everything okay?" Sevika asks, a ghost of a smile resting on her lips.

╰┈➤ "Sorry." Your apology is barely loud enough for her hear. "It's just...uh, you have nice cheekbones."

╰┈➤ You feel compelled to admit this before you can even filter through your thoughts completely. That lodge in your throat won't go away and you can't seem to catch your breath even minutes after sitting down. The only plausible thought that is able to run through your head is how fucking breathtaking she is.

╰┈➤ An expression of surprise fills her features. Sevika's forehead unwrinkles, full lips parting while she puffs out a weird mixture of a light chuckle and exhale.

╰┈➤ "But yeah..." You shake your head, trying to clear the brain fog. "I'm good."

╰┈➤ Her eyes brighten with amusement. Then she chuckles again—this time with more feeling.

╰┈➤ You allow your attention to narrow in on her lips; those lips... Then it lingers on the laugh lines that accompany her cheeky smile.

╰┈➤ "You like me." She whispers, a teasing lilt to her voice.

╰┈➤ Oh god.

╰┈➤ You don't allow yourself to focus on the accusation too much; you can't afford to ruin the mood by overanalyzing the hint of seriousness laced behind those words. Not tonight.

╰┈➤ Instead, an unattractive snort comes out. Then you're turning away from her, heart hammering as you force yourself to read the menu. "I'll try the burger you mentioned."

#lesbian #arcane #arcane women #fanfic #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #fluff #arcane netflix #friends to eventual lovers #drabble writing #arcane au #au writing #piscespetals writing

[piscespetals]

summary: part 2 of a night out with sevika. read part one here.

content: nothing but lesbian yearning and fluff.

enjoy!

"So were you always a vegetarian?" Sevika asks.

"Not always. I lost a bet and had to follow the diet for two weeks. I ended up liking it enough to stick with it."

She fights off a smirk, taking a swig of her beer. "A fucking bet?"

Your body temperature rises from the scrutiny. "It's a bit unorthodox but..." You shrug helplessly. "It's been two years since then. At least that shows that I can keep my word."

She chuckles. "Touché."

You allow the air to envelop with silence as you take a bite of your burger. It really is good. You've quickly grown to realize that Sevika has a bit of an ego. The moment you mentioned how well you liked it, her head practically swelled up to the size of a balloon. But as much as you don't want to admit it, it's quite attractive.

"I can get a bit neurotic about vegetarian food, if I'm being honest. I've always thought about opening my own vegetarian restaurant one day. Veggie recipes are a huge passion of mine. I know it may sound a bit ridiculous to some people. But it's what I enjoy. I don't know..." You try to shove down the shame that accompanies that admission. The atmosphere becomes a bit too truthful for you to meet Sevika's gaze head on. But you do manage to see her shrug out of the corner of your eyes.

"We all get that way about something in our lives," Is her reply. "For me, I have an awful obsession with the Marvel universe. I've cosplayed some characters from there a few times."

You nearly choke on your fries.

You don't know much about Marvel but the idea of Sevika in a superhero costume is enough for you—

"Do you like Marvel?" She questions.

"I haven't watched any of the movies." That's when you deem it safe enough to glance at her. Her expression remains neutral despite your confession. Even though it sounds silly, a part of you wants to see her brilliant smirk again; wants to entertain the possibility of hanging out, like this, with her again. So you add, "But I wouldn't mind learning some things about it, if you were the one to teach me."

It's too late when you realize the weight of what the fuck you've actually said—and how suggestive it can come across.

Her shoulders tense, brows raising as her head snaps to look at you with darker eyes.

"Are you flirting with me?" Her lips slowly spread into a smirk.

You shrug unintelligently, not sure what to say; not sure if you want to say anything at all.

Sevika chucks. You almost allow yourself to believe that she's stunned. "Well then..."

She takes her time in chugging the rest of her beer down, tilting her head back. Your eyes manage to catch on a stream of beer that trickles from her chin to the base of her neck. A few veins are prominent through the flesh of her throat and they tense with each gulp she takes. After a few moments, she slams the beer bottle back down on the table, tongue jutting out to swipe against her bottom lip.

Holy fuck.

"Just let me know whenever you want to watch some of those movies." She finishes, waving down one of the bartenders with her credit card. "I'd be down anytime, sweetheart."

Twenty minutes later, Sevika is standing outside with you in the parking lot.

"I've kept you out too late. "She announces, rocking back and forth on her heels. "I'm a bit of an insomniac. I forget that people have normal bedtimes." Her eyes dance to a space behind you. She purposely avoids your gaze, but you're able to read between the lines. In some subtle, Sevika-like way, this is her apologizing. A polite acknowledgement that she's indeed kept you past your bedtime.

"You're fine." You preoccupy yourself by staring at her cupid's bow. "I don't think it's too late."

The fog of the biting cold air wafts between you two as Sevika nods shortly. You rest your back against the driver door of your car, reluctant to say goodbye despite just spending numerous hours with the woman in front of you.

There's a drag of tranquility. A small unsettling sadness nestles itself in your gut. This is the part where you both are supposed to say goodbye for the time being. But you don't want your night with Sevika to end so soon. You play with the hem of your shirt, mouth pooling with saliva and heart hammering in your chest. What exactly should you say? Or do? A handshake? A wave?

It feels silly to be so speechless.

"May I embrace you?" Sevika abruptly asks.

Your head shoots up, completely thrown off by the question. You almost lose your bearings from the way she peers down at you. Her stare is forgiving.

"Embrace me?" You repeat, amused by her choice of words. Her eyes narrow at the teasing lilt in your voice.

You've never seen her express the desire to show physical affection to anyone—even your mutual friends.

So Sevika asking you for a hug is unimaginable.

But beyond that, anyone asking you for a hug is something that you've never encountered before. You don't get to experience affection very much in life.

"Well, since you wanna be like that," She grunts. "Nevermind."

"Oh come on, don't be silly." You laugh, sending her a gentle smile. "I was just teasing. You can always hug me, you know."

She has full permission to hold you until the world fucking ends, for all you care.

But of course, you're not brave enough to tell her that.

Instead, you reach out towards her, hands gripping onto the flaps of her leather jacket.

For a split second, you freeze because you notice that her eyes have turned a scorched grey. Her gaze alone sets you on fire, blazes right through you—undeniably ardent—until you're nearly burnt out from her. It's a feeling that you'll never forget; a feeling you'd welcome a thousand times more.

Your breath catches. Then time resumes and your grip on her jacket tightens. Most definitely a bit too eager, you pull her towards you.

You're not sure how long the embrace lasts. You're only able to focus on the feeling of her arms encircling your waist; on how good her cologne smells while you rest your chin on her shoulder. And in that moment, you're reminded that the draw to Sevika is completely like no other.

"Talking with you was nice." She speaks, voice low as her lips tickle the tips of your ear. Then she's pulling back, just far enough so that she can look into your eyes.

"Yeah, it was."

"We should do this again."

You nod, swallowing thickly. You're not sure exactly what this is. You just know that you want more of it. "Literally, stop by Leo's place anytime, since you know, he loves when you come by." Do you sound desperate? "I mean....if you want. I-If you have free time—that is. Then we can hang out again. You can just call me. Or text, if you're not the type to call. And we can plan something. You know, without, like, our usual friends around."

Somehow, her hand comes to rest on your chin, thumb lingering inches below your lip as she tilts your head back to meet her gaze. Your stomach flips.

"But yeah." You add, failing to ignore the way that her teeth nibble on her lips. They look gentle and...Oh, God. "I, uh...yeah, of course. Let's do this again."

She smiles, showing you a gap and pearly whites. "You already said that."

"Oh." You clear your throat and shift your feet. "Right. That's right. You're right."

Fuck.

You are so gone for her.

And it's not helping that she's peering at you with that fucking look in her stunning grey eyes. She has a smile that could kill and a searing touch that you forever want to bathe yourself in.

The air around you crackles and smells of her, a mouthwatering woodsy cologne that shoots straights to your knees and nearly causes them to buckle. Her lips are beautiful; lips that are surely only made for movie stars—and now her. Lips that you want to taste; that you want to know.

Her large hands are spread across the nape of your neck when she inches closer, grinning at the sound of your breath catching. "Are you always this tongue-tied?" Her nose grazes yours. "Or is it just me that affects you this way?"

Your eyes widen. Her breath tickles your cheeks when she laughs. Despite the amusement behind her words, you feel yourself fall deeper into the abyss of her allure. She's been teasing you all night—you hate it, yet love it.

Your throat catches, "Wouldn't you like you know."

Sevilla's head tilts slightly. She observes you with an expression of unadulterated hunger, glancing over every inch of your face. It's primal and visceral. "I would."

Your heart leaps up into your throat, lodging there and beating with all of it's might.

"Is it just me?" She whispers, much more forthright this time.

You don't ignore the way that those words hold more than just one meaning.

Is it just her?

For fucks sake.

Of course it is.

Because why would—

How can she not know?

The goddamn sincerity in her question cuts straight through you.

Your head swims.

"Sev," You mumble. Your fingers find solace in the belt loops of her jeans, hanging onto them as if they're your lifeline. "It's most definitely just you." Then you're shaking your head, letting your forehead fall against one of her shoulders in embarrassment. You groan under your breath, a shiver coursing through you as you realize that she has you completely wrapped around her finger.

"I was hoping so." She chuckles. The sound washes over you, igniting a laugh of your own. Her hands drop from your neck, fingers trailing lightly down your back until they reach your hips.

You shudder in delight.

"And the entire nervous-rambling thing?" Sevika replies. "It's really fucking cute by the way."

Your heart skips a beat from her confession and you allow yourself to fully embrace the feeling.

#fanfic #lesbian #arcane au #au writing #fluff #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane netflix #arcane women #piscespetals writing #sevika pls marry me #bisexual #queer #sevika x you #sevika imagine #arcane sevika #soft!sevika

[piscespetals]

the mechanic!sevika fic that I still think about to this day but can't seem to fully realize 😭😭😭 i've tried so many times to finish it but i can't. maybe someone else can rewrite this fic/trope?

#writers block got to me with this idea i fear #piscespetals writing #au writing #sevika #sevika x reader #going to go back to writing Sevika fics in the original universe soon because AU's are quite difficult at times #arcane au #arcane netflix

[piscespetals]

my writing

fluff = ❀ | angst = ☹ | smut = ❥

• the one where you have a night out with Sevika ❀, part two ❀

• the one where Sevika comforts you after a nightmare ❀

• the one where sevika is your coworker ❀❥

• a lazy sunday as sevika's wife ❀

• the one where sevika cheats ☹

• the one where sevika avoids you and you don't know why ☹❀

• the one where sevika becomes your roommate ❀ | part two ☹❀ | part three ☹❀ | part four ❀❥ | part five - will be published the weekend of February 10th

#lesbianwriter #arcane netflix #arcane universe #sevika #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #fanfic #arcane fanfic #arcane masterlist #fluff #angst #arcane au #yearning #original stories #au writing #queer #piscespetals writing #sevika x reader

[piscespetals]

i love your writing so much omg thank you so much for your contribution to sevika fics. literally your my favorite writer and you always manage to capture the perfect amount of heartbreaking angst and longing. may i ask what your favorite sevika moment you've written so far? also i love roommate sevika i cant wait for chapter three!!!!!

Wow, thank you so much. This is such a huge compliment. There are a few paragraphs that run through my mind on a regular basis. I always ponder over the gentle moments in Coworker!Sevika, especially this paragraph:

"I want to offer you everything good." Sevika states it firmly; earnestly. "I don't feel that with people very often. But you," She squeezes your hands, puffing out a heavy exhale. Her breath brushes over your face, minty and enticing. "...I'd do anything to bring goodness into your life."

There's some other fics I think about too. Like this one:

“Oh!” Your right pointer finger shoots up, drawing Mel's attention back to you. “Also, I forgot to mention. The star quarterback of my high school is the doctor that treated me yesterday. Can you believe that?”

Mel chuckles. “I mean, this town is definitely small.”

“Right but she’s a doctor. I always thought I would be seeing her in the major leagues.”

“Oh.” A pause. Then, “Is she hot?”

“Of course. But that's not the point,” Your eyebrows are furrowing as you shoo off the thought. “The point is that I'm supposed to do a checkup with her soon…sometime within the next few days. That’ll be awkward, don't you think? Do you think she’d hate me if I like…” You wave your hands pointlessly. “Transferred doctors?”

Mel snorts. “Is that something you can even do?”

“I’m willing to find out.”

“Oh God,” Mel rolls her eyes. “You're being ridiculous. Look—”

“Aha!” The mechanic calls out, holding up a couple of yellow-tinted sheets. His eyes squint at the printed words, lips parting slightly as he reads a few sentences underneath his breath. “I’ve found it. Okay, look...” He clears his throat, walking back towards the front desk as his lips fix into a thin line. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we did have Angela look at the damages and your car has been written off as totaled.”

Fuck.

It's an unfinished drabble that I don't think I have the bandwidth to finish. But I think it's worth going back to one day. It's one of my favorite's that I've ever written.

The others are part of fics that's I'm currently editing to be posted on here, so I don't want to spoil them. But I often find myself revisiting tender moments the most.

Thank you for such a kind message!

#au writing #fanfic #piscespetals writing #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane au #arcane netflix #fluff

[piscespetals]

roommate!sevika is probably the hardest work i've written in a long time. i've been trying to challenge myself with a few tropes in it; they're not anything i've written before. it feels like i'm stepping outside of a box in a way. i hope i'm not beside myself and that it'll still be enjoyable to read? kinda in my head about it but i'm excited to share it with y'all soon to see what y'all think

#why is writing so hard #i keep wanting to scrap the entire fic altogether #but im also wanting to stick it through and see how far i can expand myself #i'm trying to accept the idea that not every work has to be perfect #fanfic #au writing #piscespetals writing #roommate!sevika #divorced!sevika

[piscespetals]

working on a roommate!sevika fic and it's getting quite long so i think i may divide it into a multi-chapter story?

#au writing #piscespetals writing #arcane au #sevika #sevika x reader

[piscespetals]

Found one of my old drafts of Coworker!Sevika lol a part of me is curious how the story would have panned out if I continued to write this ending

#i wrote like 4 different endings to coworker!sevika #this has a lot of subplots that i liked but ended up cutting out for some reason #oh whale #maybe in another universe #piscespetals writing #au writing #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane au #fanfic #fluff #arcane women