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charlvr · 1 day ago

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Pairing. Sophia Lafortezax Reader

w.c. 5.6 k

Sophia wasn't in love with you or anything, hell, she wasn't even dating you. But didn't mean much. You were still hers. Now could everyone else get the hint?

Possessive wasn’t the word.

Sophia didn’t have a right to be possessive. Jealous didn’t quite fit either. She had nothing to be jealous of.

Mindful. That felt closer.

Sophia Laforteza was mindful. She paid attention. She liked when things had their place: neat, defined, clearly labeled. Right or wrong. In or out. Hers or not.

And you? You were hers.

Not romantically, of course. Not officially. Sophia wasn’t in love with you, not exactly, and she certainly wasn’t dating you. But that didn’t make the connection any less real. Some bonds didn’t need romantic titles to matter. They simply existed. Quiet, constant, understood without being said.

And Sophia had always been good with structure. She understood how to follow rules, how to bend them when it suited her, and how to keep things looking clean from the outside. She was agreeable, adaptable. The kind of person who could blend in when needed, who could read the room and fill in the missing pieces. She knew how to lead while making everyone feel like they had chosen to follow her. And she didn’t mind giving up control when it made sense. When it served a purpose. But that flexibility always had its limits, especially when it came to you.

She remembered third grade, when some girl with a glittery notebook had declared you her best friend during lunch. Sophia had laughed. Not cruelly, not loud enough to get in trouble, just enough for the table to fall quiet. Enough for everyone to hear. For the message to land.

Because best friend? Cute. But no.

You were her BFF. Singular. Forever. There would never be an "s" at the end of that word, because there could only ever be one. It was you and her. No one else.

Looking back, she should have known that moment was only the start. You were always too likable for your own good: all bright eyes and easy laughter. The kind of presence people naturally drifted toward.

Back then, it had been simple. All it took was a pointed look or a well-timed interruption to remind people where you stood. Her place beside you was steady, unquestioned, and everyone understood it. Even if they didn’t like it.

But things changed. You got older. Made more friends. Started dating. Got closer to other girls. Some even close enough to convince themselves they had a real place in your life. Close enough to think they mattered.

Sophia tried to be gracious. She told herself it was normal. Growing up meant letting people in, even the ones she wouldn’t have picked for you.

She could be patient. She could adjust.

She could play the long game.

But even if she couldn't keep you all to herself, she could still make sure no one else took her place.

So, she watched. Quietly. Carefully.

Most of them passed her silent tests, if barely. As long as they knew their role, understood the order of things, she’d let them stay. But the moment one of them began to forget, the moment they dared to think they might come first, things... shifted. Girlfriends became exes. Friends faded to strangers. Sometimes quickly, sometimes without warning.

And no, Sophia never interfered. Not directly. She didn’t need to.

The universe simply had a way of correcting itself, especially when she gave it a little nudge.

Your high school girlfriend had come closest to disrupting that quiet order. A two-year relationship. Long enough to start feeling permanent. Long enough for the girl to believe she had a claim.

Sophia remembered the anniversary gift. A ring. Thin silver, nothing flashy, but heavy with implication.

A promise ring. A brand.

She remembered the first time she saw it on your finger, the way her stomach turned before her brain had caught up. You'd shown it to her with a smile, twisting it absently between your fingers like it was no big deal.

“She said it was just a token,” you told her. “Not, like, a real engagement or anything. Just... kind of a commitment?”

Sophia had smiled. Said all the right things. Pretended it didn’t matter. But later that night, when you were half-asleep beside her, warm and unaware, she let the question slip like an afterthought.

“It’s kind of controlling though, don’t you think? Like… what’s she trying to prove?”

You hadn’t taken it seriously. Never really had with these kind of things. You’d told her to go to sleep, then wrapped your arms around her like that was answer enough. But the word stuck with her, anyway. Commitment. Not just the idea of it, but the audacity. The assumption that someone else could own a piece of you. That someone else could make you theirs.

The ring stayed on for a few more weeks. And every time she saw it, every time it caught the light, Sophia had to fight the impulse to remove it. To slip it from your hand and replace it with something less... presumptuous.

Eventually, the two of you broke up.

“It just didn’t work,” you told her with a shrug. “Nothing to be done about it.”

You said it like it was simple, like it hadn’t meant that much to begin with. And maybe that was true. But when you showed up at school the next day without the ring, her shoulders relaxed in a way she didn’t acknowledge, even to herself.

Still, something had shifted. Not in you. In her. And from that day forth,she promised herself she would never be caught off guard again.

So, on your next birthday, she gave you a necklace.

Something simple. Subtle. A delicate chain with the letters “SL” resting just below your collarbone.

You had smiled when you opened it, told her it was cute, and fastened it around your neck without a second thought. She never explained what it meant and you never asked.

To you, it might’ve just been a gift. To her, it was a quiet claim.

But then came Dream Academy. Then Katseye. Then her debut.

Schedules filled up, messages began to slow, and the distance between the two of you inevitably grew. Sophia told herself it was fine. You were chasing your dream. She was chasing hers. She had less time, less right, and less reason to think about you.

But then, every so often, you’d post something, a birthday selfie, a casual mirror photo, and the necklace would still be there. That little flash of silver. Her initials, resting against your skin.

And just like that, Sophia would breathe easy again.

—

The day was dragging.

A slow-burn kind of tired that settled deep in her shoulders, heavier with each take. Sophia was on her mark again, lights flaring hot against her skin, eyes fixed somewhere just off-camera. Her heels pinched. Her dress clung in the wrong places. She was counting beats in her head, already halfway out the door in her mind.

Just one more shot. She reminded herself. Then she could sit down. Change. Breathe.

She didn’t notice the figure at first. Not really. Just the ripple of movement on the edge of the crowd. Someone weaving through the space with their head down and shoulders hunched beneath a large zip-up. A baseball cap pulled low, hiding most of their face.

It was nothing unusual. Probably staff.

But then she looked again.

There was something about the way they moved. The gait. The lazy sort of elegance that looked almost accidental, just barely out of sync with the rush of production around them. It wasn’t noteworthy, but it was familiar.

And then the cap tilted up, and your smile hit her. Clear across the stage, cutting straight through the haze.

The director hadn’t even called cut before she was moving. One step. Then another. Then a full run. She ignored the pinch of her heels, the way her dress snagged against her thighs, the startled voices trailing behind her as she dodged cables and light stands.

She didn’t slow down. She didn’t even think. And when she reached you, she didn’t hesitate. Just launched herself into your arms with the kind of full-bodied relief she didn’t allow herself often, and only ever gave to you.

You caught her like you’d been waiting. And in that moment, she couldn’t even bring herself to ask what you were doing there, because it didn’t matter.

“You’re going to get in trouble,” you chuckled, voice muffled against her hair as she buried herself in your shoulder.

She held on tighter. Let herself breathe you in. Let it out slowly.

“I don’t care,” she whispered. And she didn’t.

You steadied her with both arms wrapped around her waist, rocking a little from the force of her landing. She felt the quiet press of your grin against her hair before she heard your voice. “Well, surprise. Semester’s over.”

Sophia leaned back slightly, just enough to see your face. Everything else fell out of focus, “You finished your finals?” she asked, not because she didn’t know the answer, but because it gave her a reason to keep looking at you.

You nodded, your smile lopsided in the sweet, familiar way she always loved. “Mm. And I missed you, obviously.”

It was light, a little teasing, but it still found a place to land in her chest. She didn’t let it show.

Somewhere behind you, a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

“Oh my god, Sophia,” Lara called, far too amused. “You nearly took out half the production crew. I think you body-checked a light tech.”

Sophia turned, still catching her breath. Hair clung to her cheeks. Her dress had shifted out of place, but she didn’t fix it. Her fingers were still laced with yours, and she hadn’t thought to let go.

“Sorry,” she said, laughing as it slipped out on the exhale. “Got a little excited.”

You turned toward the approaching footsteps, posture instinctively relaxed, shoulders rolling back into that easy charm you always wore like a second skin.

“Hi. I’m Y/N,” you said, offering a little wave. Playful. A little silly. Completely, unfairly adorable. “I’m Sophia’s friend.”

There was a pause. A beat as Lara slowed to a stop, taking you in with a look that started from your shoes and ended just above your smile. Her eyes lit, not dramatically, but enough for Sophia to notice the glint. She’d seen it before. Always the same: curiosity sharpened by attraction, never quite subtle enough.

Sophia held her tongue. Just this once.

Lara could look. As long as she remembered who you came for. And as long as you didn’t smile back the same way.

“Friend?” Lara repeated, like she was trying the word out. Her voice stayed light, but something in her tone curled with curiosity, like she was asking less out of politeness and more to see where the lines were drawn.

“Well,” you said, glancing back at Sophia with a grin she recognized all too well, “I suppose best friends. At least until she gets too famous to have time for me.”

Sophia opened her mouth, ready to argue. That would never happen.

But another voice cut in first.

“Y/N unnie!”

The name came bright and excited from somewhere nearby. You turned fast, face breaking into something brighter.

“Yoonchae!”

The younger girl reached you in a few quick steps, arms already open. She wrapped herself around you with an eager kind of affection, face tucked into your neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. Which, as far as Sophia knew, made no sense. Because how did you know each other?

Lara tilted her head, amused and now a little confused, “And Yoonchae’s best friend…too?”

Yoonchae looked up from the hug, eyes wide with delight. “Y/N unnie said we’re best friends?”

Three pairs of eyes turned to you at once.

You laughed, easy and unbothered, then tipped your head toward Sophia with a grin. “Well. Fia says I’m only allowed one best friend. But you’re definitely in the running.”

Sophia gave you a look. A little unimpressed. But she let it pass. At least you remembered the general message.

“So how do you two know each other?” Lara asked, her curiosity still poking at the edges.

Sophia wondered the same. It wasn’t that she ever intentionally hidden you from the rest of Katseye all this time. She’d just never felt the need to bring you up. Or maybe, if she was being honest, some part of her had liked keeping you separate. Tucked away. Hers.

“I invited her,” Yoonchae said proudly. “As a surprise.”

Sophia froze, and then blinked again. Slower this time. A flush of heat crept up her neck. She opened her mouth to deny it, but nothing came out. Because no, she had not! Okay, maybe she had.

Still.

She cleared her throat, recovering quickly. “Okay… so what? You found her Instagram and just DMed her?” Then, like a thought crossed her mind, she turned to you, brows raised. “And you respond to random girls in your DMs now?” The question came out sharper than she meant.

You looked between them like you weren’t sure how you ended up on trial.

“Nope,” Yoonchae said simply. “I snuck into your phone and got her number.” Like it was normal. Like she didn’t just admit to breaking into Sophia’s phone.

There was a beat of silence.

“You what?”

“Your password was really easy.”

Missing the point.

You turned to Sophia, eyes lighting up again. “Ooo. What is it?”

Yoonchae leaned in, conspiratorial, and all too eager, “It’s your birthday.”

A grin spread across your face. Lara snorted as Sophia groaned, dragging a hand down her cheek. “Great. Now I’m changing it.”

She wasn’t.

Yoonchae’s tone shifted, quieter now. “I just thought it would be nice,” she said. “You’ve been really stressed with our new EP. And you always take care of everyone. Me, especially. I wanted to do something for you.”

Sophia’s heart softened. Just enough to forget Yoonchae’s earlier betrayal.

She reached forward and pulled the maknae into a hug. It was quiet. Firm. Sincere. “Thank you,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re the sweetest.”

Yoonchae relaxed into her, arms winding around without hesitation. But after a beat, she gave Sophia’s back a gentle pat, clearly not one to be outdone. “Okay. You can let go now.”

Sophia did, unfazed. She knew better than to take it personally.

Lara, however, was too amused to resist. “Didn’t seem like you minded when Y/N hugged you.”

Yoonchae didn’t even blink. “Yeah. But that’s Y/N unnie.”

Sophia rolled her eyes without meaning to.

Of course Yoonchae loved you. But that was fine. It was Yoonchae, afterall, and she had been the one to bring you here. Sophia could look the other way. Just this once.

She let herself glance back at you again. Only for a second. But you caught it, eyes meeting hers across the room. She didn’t even try to hide the smile that followed.

Now, if Lara would just stop smiling too…

—

The rest of Katseye, minus a still filming Megan, was introduced to you in quick succession, not out of urgency exactly, but because Sophia didn’t feel like sharing for too long. She smiled through it anyway, played the part, let everyone have their moment. But her fingers never fully let go of yours, and you didn’t seem to mind. And once the greetings were done and the chatter faded into background noise, she was all too eager to give your hand a gentle tug.

“Come on,” she said. “You should drop your stuff off.”

The ride back to the house was a blur. Mostly small talk, some laughter. You nodded off briefly on her shoulder, and she stayed perfectly still the whole time, like moving might risk waking you, or worse, end the moment too soon.

Now, her room was quieter. Cooler. The door clicked shut behind you, and for the first time in hours, she felt like she could breathe.

You set your small bag on the edge of her bed, a backpack barely larger than a purse, and looked over with a sheepish smile. “I… didn’t pack much. Might have to borrow a few things from you.”

Sophia tried not to beam. “Okay.”

Maybe too quickly. Maybe too eagerly.

You didn’t seem to notice either way.

But the idea of you in something of hers, something small like a hoodie or an old T-shirt, it made her stomach do a stupid little flip. Even if it meant she wouldn’t get to steal one of your sweaters for herself. Still, she eyed the zip-up you were wearing now. That one looked soft enough to steal later.

You wandered a little, taking in her space. It had been a while since the two of you had been alone like this. Your fingers brushed over the spines of her books, pausing over old notebooks, trailing gently along her desk. Like you were trying to analyze every last detail. Like you were memorizing them, too. Eventually, your fingers stopped short of the photo on her bedside table. You picked it up carefully.

Her family. Her parents in the center, arms looped around each other. Her brothers, grinning like idiots. And on the end, just barely in frame but unmistakably present was you.

Your smile softened. “I still feel bad for photobombing your family picture.”

Sophia stepped beside you, voice quiet. Your shoulders brushed, but neither of you moved away, “You didn’t photobomb anything.” She reached out and gently traced the edge of the frame with one finger, gaze settling where yours had. “It’s my favorite one.”

You looked over at her, a little surprised. You remembered that day. The sun had been too bright. Someone’s eyes were closed in every shot. Better versions had been taken after. Clearer. Cleaner. More intentional. But Sophia’s gaze didn’t waver.

“I mean it,” she said, like she could sense your doubt. “There’s a reason you’re in it. You’re family too.”

Your laugh was soft, touched with something warm. But you didn’t say anything right away. You just looked at her, eyes wide and quiet, and full of something else she didn’t want to name too soon. Not yet. Not if she could be wrong.

Her eyes dropped, anyways. Unthinking. Automatic. To your lips.

She really had missed you.

You were the one to break the silence, placing the photo back with a crooked smile. “I saw your dad recently, by the way.”

Sophia blinked. The moment slipped. “Oh god. Did he say something weird?”

You tilted your head like you were considering it. Which meant yes. Absolutely, yes. “I don’t think so. Just the usual. Said he and your mom miss you. Asked me to remind you to take care of yourself. And… when we were finally getting married.”

Sophia choked on a laugh, because of course he did, “Oh. Right. Still on that, I see.”

Internally, she groaned. Could he be any more obvious?

He’d figured it out a while ago. Not that she’d told him. But someone had. Probably her mom. Or maybe he just wore her down with questions until she cracked. He had a way of doing that.

“You want to shower?” she asked, cutting the moment short. Her voice was even, casual. “You can borrow something from my closet.”

You gave her a look, teasing. “Are you trying to say I stink?”

Sophia hesitated, half confused, half panicked, before catching the smirk on your face.

She huffed a laugh. “Not what I meant. But now that you mention it…”

You rolled your eyes and made your way to the closet. “Unbelievable.”

The door creaked open.

A second later, your voice floated out. “Hey. Wait. Half of these clothes are mine.”

Sophia crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, realizing she’d conveniently forgotten that little detail. “Oh. Right. Whoops.”

—

The shower was still running when the bedroom door cracked open.

Sophia sat up from where she’d been lounging on her bed, startled by the sudden sound. For a second, she thought something might’ve happened, until Megan strolled in like she owned the place.

Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, still damp from sweat, cheeks faintly flushed from set. No urgency. No apology.

Sophia could already tell this conversation was going to be a headache.

“So,” Megan said without preamble, “is she hot?”

Sophia blinked, though she shouldn’t have been that surprised, “Are you serious?”

Megan just grinned like she already had her answer and flopped into the nearest armchair, spreading out like she was planning to stay.

“Oh,” she said, settling back with satisfaction. “So she is.”

Before Sophia could even begin to respond, more footsteps sounded in the hall. Lighter, but quicker. A second voice followed.

Laughter.

The door swung open again, with a little more force than necessary, and Lara slipped in with a grin like she was exactly where she meant to be. Which, unfortunately, meant she probably was.

Of course, Sophia thought. Lara.

“Guys,” she began, sitting up straighter, her tone clipped as she tried to get ahead of the problem, “please leave Y/N alone.”

She meant it as a warning. One they really should’ve taken seriously.

Lara only arched a brow, sauntering further in like she hadn’t heard a thing. “Why? Are you two a thing or something?”

“Or were a thing?” Megan added from the chair, visibly delighted with herself.

Sophia didn’t flinch. Her voice stayed even. “She’s my best friend.”

That should have been enough. It always was.

“Okay, well,” Megan went on, leaning forward with a grin, “I’m a good friend too.”

Sophia’s gaze sharpened. “About to be not so good.”

Lara let out a dry laugh.

Megan shrugged, resting her chin on her palm. “Is she single?”

“Megan…”

“I’m just asking. For future reference.”

“Drop it,” Sophia said, this time more firmly.

Megan let out a dramatic groan, falling back into the chair like the weight of Sophia’s protectiveness was simply too much to bear. “Fine. You don’t want me to be happy. Just say so.”

“You don’t even know her.”

“I’m trying to!”

Sophia didn’t bother responding this time. She just stared. One long, pointed look.

Eventually, Megan huffed, pushing herself up like the effort physically pained her. She dragged her feet as she left the room, shoulders slumped with exaggerated defeat. Sophia didn’t bother saying goodbye, even as Megan tried one last, half-hearted guilt trip before the door clicked shut behind her.

Lara, of course, remained exactly where she was. Planted, unbothered, and clearly not planning on moving anytime soon.

Sophia raised an expectant brow.

“What?” Lara said innocently. “I want to see fine shyte one more time.”

Sophia sighed, grabbed the nearest pillow, and threw it at her. It landed with a satisfying thud against Lara’s chest. She didn’t even blink.

“I really need to start locking that door,” Sophia muttered, just as the shower turned off behind her.

Steam slipped out from the bathroom door a moment later. Then you emerged, towel wrapped snug around your body, hair damp and skin still flushed from the heat. You spotted Lara almost immediately.

“Oh,” you said, blinking at the unexpected audience. “Hi, Lara.”

Lara lit up like she’d won something, “Hi, Y/N.”

You smiled, bashful but kind, completely unaware of the tension in the room. Sophia watched you, eyes narrowed at the interaction.

Yeah. She really needed to start locking that door.

—

Dinner that night was a special event. It wasn’t often the whole group gathered together. Too many schedules. Too many excuses. But with you visiting, the others had apparently decided it was worth making an exception.

Sophia wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or suspicious.

She was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled, pan sizzling. Pretty convinced that Megan and Lara had conveniently orchestrated this. “Let Sophia cook,” they’d said, like it was some kind of generous delegation. But Sophia had caught the smirks. She’d seen the way Megan had elbowed Lara under her breath when you walked in.

They were plotting. Obviously.

And yet… she couldn’t complain. Not really. Not when your face had gone soft with something fond at the mention of her cooking.

You’d offered to help. She’d turned you down. You’d just gotten off a flight, and she wasn’t about to put you to work. Not in her kitchen. Not when she’d been daydreaming about spoiling you a little.

Now, of course, she regretted that.

Because from where she stood, wooden spoon in hand, Sophia could see all of them hovering over you like a pack of curious birds. New girl. Bright smile. Easy laugh. You were telling some story about a childhood dare, something about a rooftop and proving you could fly, and Manon was practically folded in half from laughter.

Sophia narrowed her eyes. That story wasn’t even that funny. She would know, she had been there.

Manon wasn’t even listening. Just watching. Which only made it worse.

Then came the moment Sophia had been dreading.

Manon leaned in a little, gaze flicking to your collarbone. “That’s a cute necklace,” she said. “What does charm mean?”

Sophia fought the urge to throw her spoon across the kitchen.

You glanced down, fingers already finding the chain. You rubbed the pendant between your thumb and forefinger like you’d done it a hundred times. Like it was a habit.

“Oh,” you said lightly, “it’s from Sophia.” You held the letters up between two fingers. “Her initials,” you added. Like it was nothing.

Manon tilted her head, and her expression shifted into slightly sharper. She sat up a little straighter, like a puzzle piece had just clicked. “Ohhh,” she said slowly. “I didn’t know you guys were dating.”

You blinked, expression unchanged, “We’re not.”

Manon gave you a slightly confused look, then turned to Daniela, then back to you, “But… you did at one point, right?”

You shook your head again, more clearly this time. “No. Never.”

Silence. A long one. The kind that dragged. Manon’s face didn’t change, but you could almost hear the gears grinding inside.

Then, like she made up her mind, she muttered under her breath, “Nope. Nope. Not getting involved in that,” and stood up abruptly.

“What?” you asked, straightening up a little.

She didn’t spare you another glance, just turned away like she was afraid of being struck down where she stood, “Nothing. We’re gonna see if Sophia needs help.” She grabbed Daniela by the wrist.

Daniela frowned, having been very comfortable, “Why me? Sophia knows I’m straight.”

Manon’s voice dropped to a whisper as they passed the kitchen threshold, clearly trying to save her friend’s life, “I don’t think she cares.”

Sophia looked up from the stove and met Manon’s eyes across the counter. She didn’t blink. She didn’t smile.

Message received.

Back on the couch, you sat frozen for a second, watching the two girls disappear into the kitchen, wondering where you might have gone wrong, “That was weird.”

Yoonchae didn’t look up from her snack. She just shuffled a little closer to you and reached for another chip.

“Yeah,” she agreed, mouth half full. “They’re always weird, though.”

You shrugged, accepting the next chip she held out to you.

And just like that, dinner carried on.

—

It was nearing the end of your visit, and Sophia was… irritated.

Not that she had any right to be. She knew that. She’d reminded herself, more than once, that a few days were better than none. That she should be grateful. That asking you to stay longer would be selfish. Maybe even manipulative.

But knowing that didn’t stop her from sulking in the corner of the living room, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like she could will the evening to bend in her favor.

Because even now, even with only a few hours left, the rest of the group hovered around you like you belonged to them.

Lara was the worst.

All coy smiles and drawn-out touches. Laughing too loud at your jokes. Sitting too close. Sophia loved Lara, truly, but that love was being tested. The girl had been pushing her luck since the minute you’d arrived, and now, whatever patience Sophia had left was hanging by a thread.

Across the room, Lara’s hand grazed your arm again. Lingering. Friendly, if one was being generous.

Sophia was not.

And you let her.

Sophia’s jaw tightened. Megan appeared beside her, drink in hand. Wrong place, wrong time.

“Can you believe the gall on Lara?” Sophia snapped, snatching the glass and dragging Megan a half step closer like a hostage.

Megan blinked. “I—what?”

“Who does she think she is?”

“I think—”

“And why is Y/N letting her? Like we can’t all see this happening. In real time. With our own eyes.”

Megan’s laugh came out thin. “Uh huh. Uh huh. Can you let me go? I can’t breathe.”

Sophia relaxed her grip. Slightly.

“You could just walk over there and break it up,” Megan offered, still catching her breath.

Sophia looked at her, appalled. “I can’t do that. What would Y/N think?”

Megan raised a brow, unimpressed. “The girl wears your initials around her neck and hasn’t questioned it once. I don’t think she thinks at all.”

That gave Sophia pause. She blinked. Slowly. Then, with drunken solemnity: “Good point.”

She handed the drink back to Megan, stood, and smoothed down her shirt like it might steady her thoughts. Then she crossed the room. Not quickly. Not dramatically. Just with purpose.

Lara’s laugh reached her before anything else. That breathy kind of amusement she saved for when she wanted to be charming. Her hand was still perched between you on the couch cushion, close enough to count.

Sophia didn’t slow her steps.

And then you looked up and smiled. Soft. Instinctive. As if you hadn’t spent the evening letting Lara flirt with you. As if her hand hadn’t been skimming too close for too long. As if you hadn’t noticed the glances Sophia kept sending your way.

As if none of it mattered.

Sophia’s steps faltered. Just slightly.

She could walk away. Let it go. But she’d already come this far.

“Hey, Sophia,” Lara said smoothly, voice light, just shy of smug. Like she wasn’t halfway on your lap. “We were just talking about you.”

Sophia didn’t answer. Her eyes were just on you.

You tilted your head, the smile still there. “Hey. You okay?”

That should’ve been the moment she softened. Your voice. The way you looked at her like everything was fine. Like she hadn’t spent the whole week on edge, pacing the edges of something sharp. But instead, something inside her pulled taut.

Not anger. Not jealousy. Something deeper. Something more dangerous.

Because how dare you look at her like that after the week you’d just spent letting everyone treat you like you were theirs? How dare you smile like that—sweet, easy, innocent—after leaning into every lingering touch, every teasing remark?

Unless—

Your gaze flicked. Barely. Down to her lips. Then back up again.

Subtle. So subtle it could’ve meant nothing.

But it didn’t. Not to Sophia.

She’d spent too long studying your expressions not to know the difference between unintentional and deliberate.

And this?

This was deliberate.

There was something behind your gaze, now. Beneath the affection. Something knowing. Something dark.

Like you were watching her unravel on purpose. Like you’d been waiting for her to snap. Like this had been the point all along.

And suddenly, Sophia wasn’t sure if she was the one in control anymore.

She considered her options. She could stay composed. Pretend it meant nothing. Let silence do what it always had. Hold everything steady.

Or—

What the hell.

She reached for you. Hand wrapping firm around your wrist, tugging you to your feet before she had time to second guess herself. And then she kissed you.

It wasn’t neat. It wasn’t graceful. And it sure as hell wasn’t subtle.

All that careful structure, the unspoken, the constant, fractured into something loud and undeniable. Something claimed. Something undeniably hers.

She felt your breath catch. Felt your hands move to her waist. Felt the way your body shifted toward her like it had been waiting.

When she finally pulled back, your lips were parted, your gaze steady. Blown wide, but sure.

“Finally,” you breathed, “I was getting tired of pretending.”

And then you kissed her again.

Slower this time. But just as certain.

—

The next morning, Sophia woke tangled in your arms.

You were still sleeping, your breath slow and even, curled toward her in the way you always had. Just like when you were younger. Familiar. Easy.

But this morning carried something else. Something settled.

Sophia watched the steady rise of your chest, let her eyes trace the lines of your face, peaceful and unaware. Then, she let her gaze drift lower.

The necklace was still there, resting against your skin. A soft glint of silver in the early light. Her initials. Unmoved. Unquestioned.

She smiled when she saw it. That familiar flash. That small, constant truth. Her fingers found the chain, brushing gently along its curve. Then feathered lower, to the skin beneath.

There was a shadow under her touch. Faint at first. Something her eyes might have missed if her fingers hadn’t found it first.

Her hand stilled. She looked closer.

The color was muted in the morning light, but it was there. A mark just below the silver. Small. Fresh. Placed exactly where she’d meant to leave it.

Her thumb hovered over it, not quite touching, as if confirming what she already knew.

You shifted slightly in your sleep, face pressing into her shoulder. The movement exposed more of your neck. The mark caught the light. Undeniable now.

Her initials. The bruise just beneath.

It didn’t shout. It didn’t need to.

It simply was.

Clear. Certain. Undeniable.

Mine.

—

listen to. gabriela by katseye

#katseye x reader #sophia laforteza x reader #charwritez

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