northclairo

[northclairo]

- mine in capital letters

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.

—

brain rotted, stream gabriela. also lara is soooo fine in that mv, ugh. double also, my clothes are still in the dryers. hoping no one took them out

listen to. gabriela by katseye

[northclairo]

just fuck me with a chainsaw, why dont you.

·✮♱ ༻I'ma Need my Shirt Back*ੈ✩‧₊˚

- based off of this ask!!! and i made it a little angsty??? yay :>

Content: Smut, Slight Angst, implied baby trapping, break-up sex 💔, fuckboy!Sophia, g!p!Sophia, cream pie, Strong Language

"what the fuck are you doing back here?"

you're baffled by the sight of your girlfriend sophia at your door. she had a gray sweater and basketball shorts on paired with that stupid chain she bought at a cheap jewelry store that you've always wanted her to get rid of. based on her outfit, she clearly wasn't there to apologize to you.

"i just came by to get my stuff, babe—"

"no, you don't get to call me that after you've called all your others bitches that."

she chuckles before letting herself in, and for some reason, you don't stop her from entering. she drags her feet to your guys' previously shared room and you follow right behind. you watch as she goes into the bottom drawer, pulling out whatever crappy thrifted clothings she left behind. she carefully folds them on the bed before glancing at you and smirking.

"uhm... i hate to be that guy but you're wearing my shirt." you look at her confused before looking down. it was a baggy affliction tee that she bought towards the start of you guys' relationship. you had worn it many times, more than she has if you were being honest. it was practically yours but, because you didn't want any reminiscence of her in your house (and because you knew she would be stubborn about it) you quickly take it off before tossing it to her, leaving the top part of your figure bare besides the sports bra you had on. she looks you up and down before smirking and giving the shirt a sniff.

"it still smells like you. i missed your scent" you wish you could say that the comment made your stomach churn but it was quite the opposite. there was a flutter somewhere in your gut, something telling you that you missed her scent as well.

she finishes folding her clothes and picks them up with one hand, looking like she's about to head out. before she makes it to the door, she steps in front of you and gives you a sad smile.

"baby, i really am sorry. i promise i can make it up to you."

you scoff "apologies don't undo what you did. i loved you—trusted you, and you hurt me. you broke my trust and i can't just immediately forget that"

sophia sighs and presses her lips in a thin line. she takes her free hand and cups your cheek with it. you feel her minty breath against your own, already knowing what's coming next.

"i promise, baby, i can." she says above a whisper before leaning in to steal a kiss from you. and to both of your surprises, you kissed back. not in a "omg yes i love you, let's get back together" way, but rather a "shut up and take it before you leave" way.

you hear her clothing drop against the hardwood floor, and her hand that was holding them now goes to hold your waist, pulling you in closer. she tugs one your red pajama pants, pulling you closer. you immediately feel her hard on against your thigh, and your sudden atteaction turns to anger.

"you asshole..." you murmured against her lips. all she does is smirk, proving your point. she pulls back to look at you and she runs her hands against your sides.

"c'mon, you know you still want me. cause if you didn't you would've pushed me away by now." you hated the way her voiced dripped with the truth. you hated her, but it was undeniably that you still wanted her, the wet patch on your underwear proving that true. without another word, she kisses you once again while picking you up. your hands on her shoulders and your legs wrap around her waist for support. she takes you to your bed and lays you down with a thump. your legs stay wrapped around her waist as she stands straight, discarding her sweater and tossing it across the room, leaving her in a black tank top and that stupid chain necklace.

"i know you feel how hard i am, and i feel how much you want me. look you're dripping through your pjs, how fucking pathetic." she says, palming your clothed arousal. you groan and nudge her off of you as you take both of your bottoms off.

"just shut up and fuck me before i kick you out." you spat at her. she chuckles and takes her shorts and boxers off, letting gravity drop them to the ground. her cock springing up, hitting against her stomach. she leaned in to kiss you again and you can feel her flushed hips grind up against yours. your moans and whimpers make her ego inflate and she lines herself up with your entrance. without any warning she bottoms inside you instantly, you both moan at the feeling of her hitting right against your cervix. she pulls out halfway before thrusting hard back inside. you throw your head back exposing your neck and she kisses it down to your collarbone. the smell of sex and anger fill the room and your voice grows hoarse fast over your low screams of pleasure and pain. your hands claw at her back as she goes impossibly faster, definitely leaving marks later on.

"fuck, missed this pussy.. it belongs to me, yknow—ahh. no one can make you feel this good—"

"shut the fuck up and—mmph! k-keep fucking me." at your words, she grows impossibly stubborn, slowing her hips and stilling inside of you. you groan, grinding up trying to create friction between you.

"y'know, maybe i should fuck you till you carry my babies. maybe then you'll let me stay." at that your eyes go wide, trying to comprehend what she just said.

"you're an ass... always thinking with your dick, huh?"

she chuckles on top of you," yeah but..." she pulls back out till just her tip is inside you before thrusting all the way back in, making you jaw slack as your let out a silent scream.

"you love this dick." she plants her hands against the sides of your head as she continues to thrust inside you. her stupid chain dangling above and you can hear it move with ever thrust. it lightly hits the bottom of your chin and you grow annoyed by it. you attempt to take it off her, reaching your hands behind her neck to unclasp it, but she grabs them before you can do anything and pins them against your head.

"nah, babe, it's gonna stay on. i know how much you love it." she says in a soft voice. her hips begin to stutter at the same time you feel yourself clench around her member.

"gonna cum, baby... fuck cum with me please." her desperate whimpers make you laugh for a second, not before letting out a huge moan as she continues hitting inside you deliciously. with a kiss to your cheek, your hips connect together as you both reach your climaxes, feeling sorry for your neighbors who could probably hear throught the thin walls of your apartment. you both gasp for air as she slowly pulls out. she glances at your pussy, clenching onto nothing as your mixed orgasms leak out of you and drip onto the bedsheet. before either of you can say anything, sophia's phone buzzes from her shorts' pocket. she leans down to check what it was and it's a text from daniela.

mi amor

where are you? i got a surprise waiting ;)

she looks at the notification before looking at you, who's already beginning to sit up with a knowing face.

"just go, i never wanna see you again, okay?"

sophia opens her mouth to speak, a rush of guilt flooding her entire body. but she doesn't say anything. instead, she puts her shorts and boxers back on, not even bothering to clean herself up. she picks up her clothes that she dropped on the ground, and left without another word.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

not proof read. yay angst!!!

[northclairo]

give it to me. give it to me. give it to me.

THE DEVIL IN I

❝𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘪. 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘪’𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.❞

──── ( 🦇 ) sophia, the poster child for teenage angst, accepts a party invite, hoping to shed her “virgin loser” image, only to find herself locked in a closet with the one person who makes her existence a daily hell: one of her bullies.

𝓟aring. switch!emo!gp sophia laforteza & switch!fem reader

𝓒ontent 𝓦arnings. alcohol, blowjob, breeding, creampie, deep throat, degradation, face fucking, fingering, gropping, hair pulling, humiliation, nipple play, titsucking, riding, squirting, weed usage. (and more... there’s a lot going on.)

𝓦ord 𝓒ount. 10,4k (10,493)

the scratching of your pen against the lined paper was a small, predictable comfort. history drifted past you in the droning voice of mr. smith, dates and treaties blurring into a meaningless hum. you were more interested in perfecting the shading of your notes, the artful slant of your handwriting, than the intricacies of the french revolution. that is, until daniela’s voice, sharp and laced with a familiar brand of disdain, sliced through your concentration.

“did you hear that weirdo was invited to the party?”

your pen stills on the page of your notebook, hovering over a half–drawn diagram of the country republic’s social structure. you look up, your gaze snagging on daniela’s expectant face. she’s leaning closer, her eyes bright with a gossipy energy. beside her, manon snickers, a sound as brittle as thin ice.

you already know who they’re talking about. that weirdo. sophia laforteza. the label hangs around her like a shroud. sophia exists on the periphery of your perfectly curated world, a shadowy figure haunting the hallways. the girl with the perpetually messy black hair that seems to defy gravity, the intimidating height that dwarfs most of the other students, the clothes that are always several sizes too big, swallowing her whole; baggy jeans, oversized hoodies, combat boots that look like they’ve seen better days. everything about her screams… different. — her eyes, when you occasionally caught a glimpse, held a disconcerting intensity that seemed to pierce through the carefully constructed facade of your high school world. she was a study in contrasts, a stark outlier in a sea of carefully curated conformity.

you’ve never spoken to her. why would you? sophia is a black hole of social awkwardness, a potential reputation killer wrapped in a trench coat of angst. associating with her would be a strategic blunder of epic proportions, a direct hit to your carefully constructed social standing.

“who invited her?” daniela asks, her voice dripping with incredulity. “seriously? who would want her there? i mean, i don’t want to sound rude, but she has absolutely nothing to do with the party.”

manon chimes in, her voice dripping with a venomous sugar. “probably trying to be ‘inclusive.’ you know, the bleeding heart types. probably thinks she’ll suddenly blossom into a social butterfly if she gets a whiff of champagne and some decent music. newsflash: she’ll probably just lurk in the corner, scowling and listening to… i don’t know, funeral dirges or something. whenever i walk past her i can hear the music blasting through her headphones, it’s a miracle she hasn’t gone deaf or something yet.”

daniela continued, her voice dripping with thinly veiled disgust. “i heard lara felt obligated to invite her. you know, for… inclusivity or something. can you imagine? the after–party at the raj’s pool? sophia laforteza in a bathing suit? that’s a visual i don’t need.”

manon, her eyes gleaming with malicious amusement, chimed in. “oh, please. she probably wears a burkini to the beach. or maybe a full suit of armor. you know, to protect us all from her… darkness.” she punctuated the last word with an exaggerated shudder.

a ripple of laughter, brittle and cruel, spread through their small circle. you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, but said nothing. you told yourself it was because you were focused on your notes, on the importance of maintaining your grades. but a small, nagging voice whispered that it was fear. fear of being ostracized, of losing your place in the carefully constructed hierarchy of high school.

manon’s voice, laced with a venomous edge, rose above the murmur of the classroom. “seriously, though, what’s her deal? does she think she’s some kind of tortured artist? all that black eyeliner and brooding? it’s so… pathetic. personally, i think that ‘smoky’ makeup, as she calls it, is kind of disgusting. i don’t understand how a dark eyeshadow applied in a way that makes you look like you were punched in the eye can look aesthetically pleasing, according to her.”

daniela nodded in agreement, her expression hardening. “and the poetry? have you ever read any of her stuff? it’s all death and despair and… ravens. I've heard that the literature teacher always congratulates her on her texts, quite the ass–kissing teachers if i may say so. honestly, it’s like she’s auditioning to be the next edgar allan poe.”

you had, in fact, seen some of sophia’s poetry. scrawled in the school newspaper, tucked into the margins of library books. it was dark, yes, but there was a raw, unsettling honesty to it that you couldn’t deny. a glimpse into a world of pain and longing that was both unsettling and strangely compelling. you quickly dismissed the thought, shoving it back into the recesses of your mind. it was dangerous to dwell on such things.

“i heard her family is loaded, though.” manon continued, her tone shifting slightly, revealing a hint of something akin to grudging respect, immediately followed by disdain. “old money. but they’re like, super weird. they live in that creepy old victorian house on the edge of town. you know, the one that looks like it’s straight out of a horror movie? i bet she must feel like she’s in a vampire novel or something like that weird stuff, i don’t know, she must feel like something out of a disgustingly cheap drama and romance movie.”

daniela wrinkled her nose, seeming disgusted just by hearing the nonsense manon was saying. “i figured. probably worships satan in the basement or something. i bet she sacrifices small animals. that white cat, you know which one i’m talking about, right? the one of the picture on her phone case, i bet she does weird things to her.”

you cringed inwardly. the casual cruelty of their words made your stomach churn. you wanted to say something, to defend sophia, to point out the absurdity and mean–spiritedness of their comments. but the words caught in your throat, choked by the fear of ridicule, of being labeled an outcast yourself.

you stifle a sigh. the casual cruelty of manon’s remarks makes you uncomfortable, but you’re not about to say anything. you’re not about to defend sophia laforteza. you’re not about to risk being tarred with the same brush.

instead, you turn your attention back to your notebook, pretending that the intricacies of french governance are far more fascinating than the petty dramas unfolding around you. you try to focus on the rise and fall of empires, the machinations of senators, the ebb and flow of power. but the words blur on the page. the image of sophia laforteza, standing alone in the school hallway, her shoulders hunched, her eyes downcast, keeps flickering in the back of your mind.

the party in question is the annual pre–summer break bash thrown by lara raj, the undisputed queen of the social scene. it’s the event of the year, a carefully orchestrated spectacle of wealth, popularity, and carefully curated appearances. an invitation to lara’s party is a symbol of acceptance, a validation of your place in the social hierarchy. and apparently, sophia laforteza, against all odds, has received one.

mr. smith cleared his throat, his voice booming through the classroom. “alight, settle down, everyone. let’s get back to the causes of the class topic.”

the whispers subsided, but the damage was done. the image of sophia laforteza, isolated and vilified, lingered in your mind. You tried to focus on the lesson, but daniela and manon’s venomous words echoed in your ears.

the bell rang, signaling the end of class. you gathered your things, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere. as you walked out of the classroom, you saw sophia standing by her locker, her back to you. the black fabric of her oversized hoodie swallowed her frame, making her seem even smaller and more vulnerable.

you hesitated, a strange impulse tugging at you. for a fleeting moment, you considered approaching her, offering a simple greeting, a gesture of kindness. she definitely looked like someone who was uncomfortable socializing, but trying to give her a chance wasn’t a bad thing at all.

but then daniela’s words flashed through your mind: “it would ruin your entire reputation to socialize with her, a huge hit to social status if you think about it.”

you averted your eyes and walked past her, your footsteps quickening. the weight of your silence settled heavily on your shoulders. you told yourself it was the right decision, the only decision. protecting your reputation was paramount. but as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had betrayed something important, something within yourself.

the music vibrates through your chest, a dull thrum that matches the frantic rhythm of your heart. lara’s parties. you knew what to expect. chaos, glitter, questionable punch, and memories that would surface in the most inconvenient moments for years to come. this year seemed to be living up to its predecessors. you’re already a few drinks in, the world around you softening at the edges. laughter erupts around you like popcorn, and the humid air smells of cheap perfume and spilled beer.

you find yourself swept up in the throng of dancers in the living room. megan grabs your hands, pulling you closer. she’s always been a whirlwind of energy, a bright spark in the often-dull landscape of high school. dancing with her is usually just fun, a carefree release. but tonight, something feels different.

as the song shifts to a more seductive beat, megan starts to press closer. at first, you brush it off. megan is playful, a bit of a flirt. you laugh, bumping her playfully with your hip. but she doesn’t back away. instead, she nuzzles her face into your neck, her breath warm against your skin.

a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of surprise and something… else. you pull back slightly, eyebrows raised in question.

“megan, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light. the alcohol makes it hard to focus, the words slurring slightly.

she just giggles, a sound that’s usually charming but now feels a little too knowing. “just play along.” she whispers, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

play along? with what, exactly? before you can formulate a coherent thought, your attention is snagged by manon’s laughter, echoing across the room. you glance over and catch daniela’s gaze – a subtle, amused look that flickers towards the couch.

intrigued, you follow her line of sight. and that’s when you see her. sophia.

sphia, the undisputed queen of the shadows, the girl who wore black like it was armor, the one who always seemed to be on the periphery of everything. she’s perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, a stark contrast to the swirling mass of bodies in the center of the room.

but it’s not just her usual solitary pose that catches your eye. it’s the look on her face. her eyes are wide, almost unblinking, fixed on the group of girls dancing. she looks…hypnotized. like a deer caught in headlights.

you open your mouth to say something, to perhaps offer sophia a way out of her awkward observation post. but megan tugs you back, her fingers digging lightly into your arm.

“don’t worry about her.” she murmurs, her voice low and persuasive. “come on, let’s have some fun.”

fun. right. that’s what you’re here for. and besides, you like joking around. you’re a little drunk. and… well, maybe a little harmless teasing wouldn’t hurt. you’ve seen sophia’s stoic exterior crack before, usually under the pressure of someone trying to be funny and you’ve always wondered what she’d do if you were the one testing her resolve.

turning back to megan, you grin. “alright.” you say, the word a little slurred. “let’s give her a show.”

you lean into megan, your arms wrapping around her waist. she responds instantly, her hands sliding up your back, her fingers tangling in your hair. the music seems to intensify, the beat pounding in your ears.

this is it. this is where the teasing begins.

you start to dance with megan, but it’s not the casual, silly dancing from before. this is different. this is deliberate. you move closer, your bodies brushing against each other. you make sure your movements are exaggerated, your laughter a little too loud, your glances in sophia’s direction pointed.

megan seems to understand immediately. she plays along with enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling with the same mischievous glint you feel in your own. she dips you low, her hand lingering on your lower back. you laugh, throwing your head back, your gaze meeting sophia’s across the room.

sophia’s expression doesn’t change, but you can sense a shift in her energy. her eyes seem to widen slightly, her lips parting just a fraction.

you pull megan closer again, whispering something in her ear, something deliberately suggestive. she giggles, and the sound echoes in the suddenly charged atmosphere. you can feel the heat radiating from megan’s body, a heat that’s amplified by the alcohol and the thrill of the performance.

the song changes, and the rhythm slows, becoming more sensual. you and megan adjust accordingly, your movements becoming slow and deliberate. you trace the curve of megan’s jawline with your fingers, your eyes locked on sophia’s.

sophia is transfixed, completely still, her gaze glued to you and megan.

you lean in, your lips hovering just above megan’s. you can feel her breath on your skin, the anticipation building in the space between you. you pause, holding the moment, and glance at sophia one last time.

her cheeks are flushed, her knuckles white as she clutches the edge of the sofa. you can see a flicker of something in her eyes, something that looks like… longing?

then, you kiss megan.

it’s not a passionate kiss, not really. it’s more of a performance, a carefully choreographed act designed to elicit a reaction. but even knowing that, even being the one orchestrating it, you can’t deny the electric current that runs through you as your lips meet megan’s.

the kiss is brief, just a brush of lips. but it’s enough. when you pull away, megan’s eyes are wide, her face flushed.

you turn your attention back to sophia. she’s gone.

the sofa sits empty, the indentation of her weight still visible on the cushions. you scan the room, but she's nowhere to be seen. lost to the shadows once more.

a wave of conflicting emotions washes over you. relief that the potentially awkward moment is over. disappointment that you didn't get the reaction you were expecting.

you usually avoided parties like this — the kind where the air hung thick with the smell of cheap beer and desperation, where the music was too loud to have a conversation and everyone seemed to be operating on a level of inebriation you couldn’t even comprehend. but tonight, you were here. driven by a vague sense of obligation to your group friends who insisted you “needed to loosen up.”

the air is still thick with the cloying sweetness of cheap beer, the acrid bite of something stronger, and the nervous energy of too many teenagers crammed into a space too small. you’d come to this party with a vague expectation of… something. maybe a fleeting connection, a stolen kiss, or just a temporary escape from the crushing monotony of your everyday life. but so far, it had been a bust. you’d nursed a single beer for an hour, politely deflected awkward advances, and mostly hovered on the periphery, a silent observer in a chaotic scene.

then you find her.

sophia. the enigmatic girl with the perpetually shadowed eyes, the cascade of raven hair that seemed to absorb all light, and the quiet intensity that made her seem both fragile and fiercely independent. the “emo girl,” as the less sensitive —which, let’s be honest, was most— students at your school called her. you’d always been intrigued by her, drawn to the aura of mystery that clung to her like the scent of clove cigarettes. you'd never spoken to her, content to observe her from a distance, a silent admirer of her unapologetic individuality.

now, she was trapped in the heart of a swirling vortex of drunken revelry. a circle of your classmates, faces flushed and eyes glazed, were gathered around her, their voices a raucous blend of laughter and slurred pronouncements. you recognized a few of them — the jocks, the popular girls, the usual suspects who thrived on this kind of chaotic social interaction. they were playing a game, you realized, a game that seemed to involve dares and escalating levels of ridiculousness. the kind of game that always veered into uncomfortable territory.

they were clearly drunk. obnoxiously, aggressively drunk. empty red solo cups littered the floor around them like discarded battle trophies. sophia stood awkwardly in the center, her posture rigid, her arms crossed defensively. even from across the room, you could see the subtle tension in her shoulders, the way she unconsciously avoided eye contact. she was clearly uncomfortable, her lip twitching slightly, and from the way sophia was subtly wrinkling her nose, a barely perceptible twitch, you suspected there might be something else involved too — the cloying sweetness of weed hanging heavy in the air. she looked trapped, a dark butterfly pinned under the microscope of their drunken amusement.

something twisted within you. a strange, unfamiliar protectiveness, a surge of anger directed at the oblivious, inebriated group surrounding her. it was a feeling you couldn’t quite name, a potent cocktail of empathy and… something else. something that had been simmering beneath the surface for months, perhaps years, finally bubbling to the fore.

you didn't know why, but you couldn't stand to watch her be preyed upon.

without thinking, driven by instinct and a sudden, irrational courage, you started to move. you navigated the crowded room, dodging clumsy dancers and spilled drinks, your focus locked on sophia. the music seemed to fade, the noise receding into a dull hum as you approached the circle.

as you got closer, you could hear snippets of their conversation, punctuated by raucous laughter.

“…i dare you to…” guy with a backwards baseball cap slurred, his words indistinct.

“no way, man! that’s messed up!” another voice protested weakly.

“come on, don’t be a wimp! it’s just a dare! it’s not like it’s going to mean anything.”

you reached the edge of the circle, your heart pounding a ragged rhythm against your ribs. sophia’s eyes darted towards you, a fleeting expression of surprise flickering across her face before she quickly averted her gaze.

you don’t really know it, but she’s been staring at you all night since she set foot in the place and saw you talking to your group of friends; maybe it was your choice of the shorter and tighter dress for something “relaxed” like a party the whole school is attending and and she can’t help but drool morbidly over your body, or maybe it was because she doesn’t have a social circle and is relaxed by harmlessly looking at people in a way of wasting time… a very rare and disturbing one.

“hey.” you said, your voice barely audible above the music. you cleared your throat and tried again, louder this time. “hey, is everything okay here?” all eyes turned to you, a mixture of curiosity and annoyance flickering across their faces.

the group turned to face you, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity to open hostility. the guy with the jersey of the school basketball team, who seemed to be the annoying one of the group, scowled.

“what’s it to you, gorgeous?” he slurred, stepping closer. he reeked of alcohol and bad decisions.

“just making sure everyone's having a good time.” you replied, trying to keep your voice even. you met his gaze, refusing to back down. “what’s going on here?”

the ringleader, a hulking football player named jake, grinned at you, his eyes bloodshot. “just a little game, babe. sophia here’s about to take a dare.” he slurred the last word, his arm slinging casually around sophia's shoulders. she flinched.

you ignored him and addressed sophia directly. “are you okay?”

she looked up at you, her dark eyes wide with surprise. for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of gratitude in their depths, quickly masked by her usual guarded expression. “i’m fine.” she mumbled, her voice barely audible above the music.

but you saw the tremor in her hands, the way she avoided eye contact. you knew she wasn’t fine.

you didn’t believe her. “you don’t look fine.”

“she’s fine.” jake said, getting closer to sophia and putting his arm around her shoulders. “we’re just having some fun, right, sophia?”

his grip looked too tight, possessive. sophia flinched slightly, but didn’t say anything.

sophia remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor.

“looks like she’s a little uncomfortable.” you said, your voice hardening. “maybe you should let her go.”

the tension in the air was palpable. you could feel the weight of their collective gaze, the unspoken challenge in their eyes. this was their territory, their game, and you were an unwelcome intruder.

“how about you leave her alone, jake?” you said.

the ringleader’s eyes narrowed. “look, sweet cheeks, this doesn’t concern you. why don't you just go back to whatever you were doing?"

“actually, it does concern me.” you said, taking a step closer. “i don’t like seeing someone being pressured into doing something they don't want to do.”

a girl with bright pink hair and too much eyeliner, who you vaguely recognized from your english class, piped up. “oh, come on, it’s just a dare! don’t be such a wet blanket.”

“yeah.” another voice chimed in. “are you saying sophia can’t handle a little fun?”

the pressure was mounting, the crowd turning against you. you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. you glanced at sophia, her eyes pleading. she didn’t want a confrontation, but she clearly didn’t want to be there either.

the tension in the air thickened, palpable. the music seemed to fade into the background as the two of you locked eyes. you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, a strange mix of fear and defiance.

“alright, tough girl.” the ringleader sneered. “you want to play the hero? fine. maybe you should join our little game.”

he gestured towards the circle. “we were just about to play seven minutes in heaven. how about you and sophia go next?”

a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. seven minutes in heaven. the epitome of awkward teenage encounters. you glanced at sophia, her face pale. this was exactly what she was trying to avoid.

you hesitated. you hadn’t intended for things to escalate like this. but you couldn’t back down now. not with sophia looking at you with those pleading eyes.

“fine.” you said, your voice surprisingly steady. “we’ll play."

the ringleader grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes. “alright then. in the closet you go.” he pointed towards a dark, cluttered space in the corner of the room.

he grabbed sophia’s arm, pulling her towards the closet. you stepped forward, gently disentangling her from his grasp.

“i’ll take it from here.” you said, your voice low.

he shrugged, his face still contorted in a sneer. “suit yourself. but don’t think you’re doing her any favors. she’s just gonna be even more awkward if you try to be all chivalrous.”

you ignored him, turning to sophia. “are you okay with this?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. we can just walk away."

she looked at you for a long moment, her eyes searching yours. you could see the fear and uncertainty swirling within them. but you also saw something else, a flicker of… gratitude?

“it’s okay.” she said softly, her voice barely audible. “i… i guess i can handle seven minutes.’

you nodded, taking a deep breath. you had no idea what you were doing. but you knew you couldn’t leave her alone with those people.

the cheers intensified as you and sophia were ushered towards a nearby closet, a dark, cramped space filled with coats and forgotten backpacks. the ringleader set a timer on his phone, a smug grin plastered across his face.

he shoved you both into the closet, the door slamming shut behind you, plunging you into darkness. the sound of the latch clicking into place echoed in the sudden silence.

the door slammed shut behind you, plunging you into near darkness. you could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and excited whispers from the other side.

you were alone. trapped. with sophia. in a dark, cramped closet. for seven minutes.

what now?

the air was thick with the smell of dust and mothballs. you could hear your own heart pounding in your ears, a frantic drumbeat in the oppressive silence.

“so…” you began, your voice sounding awkward and unnatural. “this is… uh… interesting.”

sophia didn’t say anything. you could feel her presence beside you, a palpable tension radiating from her.

“i’m (y/n), by the way.” you said, extending your hand in the darkness.

and then, silence. a long, uncomfortable silence. you could hear the muffled sounds of the party outside, but they seemed distant and unreal. you and sophia were trapped in your own little world, a world defined by darkness and awkwardness.

you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t know what to do. you just stood there, frozen in place, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world.

and well, you don’t know if it was an impulse or if sophia seemed to have really longed for this moment since she set foot in high school, but when you try to say something again you interrupt yourself when you notice a… change in her. her always grim expression was still dark and intimidating, yes, but now it seemed to have a glimmer of... desire? in it.

sophia pressed you up against the back wall of the closet, her hands finding your hips as she stepped in close. you could feel the heat radiating off her body, the swell of her breasts brushing against yours. she tilted her head, her eyes glinting in the faint light filtering in through the cracks in the door.

“alone at last. i can’t believe i could stand that idiot’s attitude for so long. i agreed to be with them only because they were doing rounds of alcohol, but i didn’t think they would be so talkative.” she murmured, her voice a husky whisper. “now, where were we, (y/n)? i seem to remember you mentioning something about seven minutes… you seemed pretty excited about doing it with me a while ago, didn’t you? i hope you’re not just words.”

her hands drifted up your sides, over the curve of your ribcage, skimming the sides of your breasts. she gripped your chin gently, tilting your face down to meet her gaze.

“i want to kiss you until you’re breathless. i’ve always wanted to do it, you know…” she breathed, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “i want to touch every inch of your body until you're trembling with need. i want to make you scream my name until you’re hoarse…”

sophia pressed herself against you, pinning you to the wall with her body. you could feel every curve and contour of her figure, the heat of her skin seeping through her t–shirt with a somewhat disturbing drawing of a metal band. she slid her hands up your sides, tracing the dip of your waist before gripping your hips possessively.

“seven minutes…” she murmured, her voice a husky whisper. “it isn’t a very long time. but i promise, i’ll make every second count.”

her hands slid higher, brushing over the swell of your breasts. she leaned in, her lips finding yours in the darkness. she kissed you deeply, her tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you. one hand tangled in your hair, gripping it tightly, while the other slid under your shirt, palming your breast roughly.

sophia broke the kiss, leaving you breathless and aching for more. she nipped at your bottom lip before trailing her mouth down the column of your throat, her teeth grazing your skin. she sucked hard at your pulse point, no doubt leaving a mark for all to see.

her hand pushed your bra out of the way, allowing her to touch your bare flesh. she rolled your nipple between her fingers, pinching and tugging at the hardened peak. her other hand slid down your stomach, deftly unbuttoning your tight jeans and slipping inside.

sophia’s fingers found your clothed sex, and she rubbed at your core, feeling the dampness that had already gathered there. she groaned against your neck, her breath hot and heavy. “fuck, (y/n).” she breathed. “you’re already so wet for me. i’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping. i didn’t think you’d react like that to my touch. who knew you get excited so quickly and easily?

sophia’s cocky behavior was starting to suffocate you a little. honestly, you don't know if it’s because she’s always had that kind of personality and you giving her the chance to have some trust with you was enough for her to show her true personality with you or it was something simpler like the smell of marijuana affecting her system and making a clear change in her — whatever the answer, you just know that pushing the annoyances aside and getting sophia to do something was the only thing you were worried about.

“just shut up before i regret this. are you going to fuck me or something? by the way, i know this isn’t the best time to ask this, but do you have any lube or anything? i–… i’m not a real spit–lover so–”

sophia let out a low, sultry laugh, the sound sending shivers down your spine. her fingers stilled their movements, hovering just above your clothed sex. “oh, sweetheart... you don’t need lube for what i have in mind.” she purred, her voice dripping with wicked promise.

she withdrew her hand from your jeans, leaving you aching and empty. before you could protest, she spun you around, pushing you to kneel in front of her. in the dim light filtering in from under the door, you could see the hunger in her eyes as she looked down at you.

you would have protested if she had not given you the whim of fulfilling only your wishes, of course, if it weren’t for the fact that when you look up to try and give her a look, your eyes are met with a prominent bulge in her baggy jeans. you would have thought it was just a tent that formed on sophia’s pants since it’s loose fabric and it’s common for it to bulge like that, but that was definitely more than just fabric.

“uhm, sophia... do you…?”

sophia smirked, one hand coming down to palm the obvious bulge now pressing against her black jeans. “surprised, babygirl? don’t worry, it’s a surprise for everyone... until they get a taste, that is.”

she used her other hand to grip your chin, tilting your face up to meet her heated gaze. her thumb brushed over your lower lip, tracing it slowly before lightly pressing it and sliding it into your mouth, using the pad of her finger to playfully press against your tongue. “i didn’t take you for the shy type, (y/n). i always thought you were a little more... slutty compared to fucking, i don’t know, you have that vibe. but don’t worry, i’ll guide you through it. i promise, it’ll feel so good wrapped around your pretty little mouth.”

sophia deftly unbuttoned her jeans, shoving them down her long, toned legs along with her underwear. her hard cock sprang free, thick and long, the tip already glistening with pre–cum. she wrapped a hand around it, stroking herself slowly as she watched you with a hungry gaze.

“go on, baby. get a good look. then put that sexy mouth of yours to work. i know you know how to do it.” she commanded, her voice a low and seductive growl, completely different from the typical soft and low tone that she always uses inside the institute.

“and (y/n), don’t forget to breathe through your nose. i want you to take every fucking inch of me.” sophia tangled her fingers in your hair, guiding your face closer to her hard, throbbing cock. the musky scent filled your nostrils, making your head spin with desire. she rubbed the leaking tip against your lips, smearing your skin with her sticky pre–cum.

“that’s it, baby. open wide for me.” she coaxed, her grip on your hair tightening. it doesn’t take long for sophia to start doing things her way, going from having a messy grip on your hair to holding it in a ponytail, keeping you in place without even having a chance to choose to do something else.

slowly, she pushed forward, the thick head of her cock parting your lips and sliding into the wet heat of your mouth. a low groan escaped her as your tongue instinctively swirled around the sensitive flesh. she began to move, pushing more of her length past your stretched lips with each thrust. your jaw ached as you struggled to accommodate her size, but the discomfort only seemed to fuel your arousal.

“fuck, your mouth feels incredible.” sophia panted, her hips rocking steadily as she fucked your face. one hand stayed in your hair, setting a brutal pace, while the other slid down to fondle your breast roughly. “i knew you’d have a talented tongue, (y/n). such a good girl, taking my cock so well.”

she pulled you forward until your nose was pressed against her pelvis, your throat stretched taut around her thick length. she held you there, letting you feel the heavy throb of her heartbeat, before starting to withdraw slowly. just before your lips slipped off the tip, she slammed back in, fucking your face with renewed vigor.

the wet sounds of her thrusts and your muffled moans filled the closet, a filthy symphony of lust and desire. sophia’s breathing grew ragged, her grip on you tightening as she chased her pleasure. she was close, so close, and you could only pray that you’d be able to take everything she had to give you.

with a hoarse cry, sophia buried herself to the hilt in your throat, her cock pulsing and twitching as she found her release. thick, hot ropes of cum shot down your gullet, filling your belly with her seed. she held you in place, grinding against your face as spurt after spurt of jizz pumped into you.

finally, with a shuddering gasp, she pulled out, her softening cock slipping from your mouth with a wet pop. a strand of cum connected the tip to your swollen lower lip before breaking, allowing it to drip down onto your chin. sophia swiped her fingers through the mess, pushing the sticky fluid into your mouth so she could taste the salty and sweet essence of her climax.

sophia leaned down, her face inches from yours, panting softly. she licked her lips, savoring the taste of your mixed saliva and her own release. “fuck, that was... intense.” she breathed out, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face. “you’re a natural at this, babygirl. i knew you’d have a talented mouth on you.”

she helped you up to your feet, pressing your body flush against hers. her hands slid down to grope your ass, squeezing the firm globes through your jeans. “such a good girl, swallowing every drop. i think you've more than earned a reward.” sophia purred, her voice dripping with lust and promise.

her lips crashed against yours in a bruising kiss, her tongue invading your mouth, no doubt tasting herself on your lips and tongue. she kissed you deeply, passionately, until you were both left breathless and craving more.

sophia broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. she grinned wickedly, her eyes glinting with mischief and dark desire.* “i’m not done with you yet, (y/n). that was just the beginning. by the time i’m finished, you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.” she promised, her voice low and full of sinful intent. “now, let’s get these clothes off you and see what i have to work with, hmm?”

again, sophia’s attitude was getting on your nerves.

“just hurry up. we don’t have much time.”

sophia growled playfully at your urgency, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “oh, i don’t plan on wasting a single second, babygirl. we might be short on time, but i’m not short on ideas…”

sophia chuckled darkly, amused by your eagerness. she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered. “don’t worry, babygirl. i’ll make every second count.”

her skilled fingers made quick work of your clothes, practically tearing them off your body in her haste. buttons popped and fabric ripped, the sounds of your disrobing mingling with your own panting breaths. in a matter of moments, you stood before her, bare and exposed, goosebumps prickling your skin from the cool air and the intensity of her heated gaze.

sophia took a step back, her eyes roaming over every inch of your naked flesh, drinking in the sight of you. a low, appreciative whistle escaped her lips. “fuck, (y/n)... you’re even more gorgeous than i imagined. curves in all the right places.” she purred, reaching out to trail a finger down the valley between your breasts, over your stomach, and dipping teasingly between your thighs.

she pushed your thighs apart with her knees, stepping between them to press her body against yours. her hands slid up your sides, over your ribcage, and cupped your breasts roughly. she squeezed the soft mounds, kneading them in her palms as she leaned down to capture one hardened nipple in her mouth.

sophia sucked hard, her teeth grazing the sensitive peak before she bit down, sending a jolt of pleasure–pain straight to your core. her other hand slid down your stomach, fingers delving through the slick folds of your sex, stroking your most intimate places. “so wet already, babygirl? you’re going to be the death of me.”

sophia’s fingers found your clit, circling the sensitive nub with a teasing pressure that made your hips buck involuntarily. she chuckled against your breast, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. two fingers pushed inside your tight heat, pumping steadily, curling against that special spot that made your vision go white.

her mouth moved to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. she bit, sucked, and licked until the peak was red and aching, glistening with her saliva. all the while, her fingers never stopped their relentless assault on your sex, plunging in and out, stroking your walls, coaxing out your pleasure.

sophia’z own arousal pressed insistently against your thigh, hard and throbbing, leaking pre–cum that smeared against your skin. she rocked her hips, grinding her thick length along your leg as she fingered you, seeking her own pleasure from your body’s responses.

“fuck, (y/n).” she gasped, pulling back to look at you with wild, lust–crazed eyes. “you’re so fucking tight. i can feel you squeezing my fingers, greedy little thing. you want more, don’t you? want me to fill up this hungry cunt?”

“just fuck me already.”

sophia grinned wickedly at your desperate plea, her eyes flashing with triumph and dark promise. “as you wish, babygirl.” she purred, her voice a low, sinful growl.

she withdrew her fingers from your dripping sex, bringing them to her mouth to suck your essence clean. she let out a low moan, her tongue swirling around the digits. “mmmh, delicious. i could get addicted to your taste, (y/n)."

gripping your thighs, sophia lifted you up and spun around, pinning you against the wall of the closet. she hitched your legs around her waist, the head of her cock nudging insistently at your entrance. with a swift, hard thrust, she buried herself inside you to the hilt, stretching you deliciously around her thick girth.

“fuck!” sophia cried out, her head falling back as your tight heat engulfed her. she stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion, before she began to move. her hips rocked against yours, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace.

the wet, obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the small space, mingling with your wanton moans and sophia’s grunts of pleasure. she gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, no doubt leaving finger–shaped marks on your skin as she pounded into you relentlessly.

“take it, (y/n).” she growled, her voice strained with exertion and lust. “take my fucking cock. this cunt was made for me, fits me like a goddamn glove. you’re mine now, understand? my perfect little fuck toy.”

sophia leaned down, sinking her teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, marking you as her own. she sucked hard, no doubt leaving a vivid purple bruise for all to see. her hands slid under your ass, gripping the cheeks roughly as she hoisted you up higher, changing the angle of her thrusts. she hit a spot deep inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids, your body seizing up in ecstasy.

“that’s it, babygirl.” sophia hissed, her voice rough and ragged. “come on my fucking cock. i want to feel this greedy cunt spasm around me as you scream my name. let everyone at this shitty party know who you belong to now.”

sophia’s words, dripping with dark possession and lust, pushed you over the edge. your body convulsed in her arms, your sex clenching and fluttering wildly around her pistoning cock as your orgasm crashed through you like a tidal wave. a scream tore from your throat, echoing off the closet walls as you came undone, your juices gushing out to soak sophia’s still-thrusting length.

“fuck yes, (y/n)!” sophia roared, feeling your release gripping her like a vice. she fucked you through your climax, prolonging your pleasure until you were boneless and spent, your cries turning to whimpers and soft mewls.

sophia snarled, a feral sound of pure, unadulterated lust. your desperate, wanton plea only spurred her on, driving her to fuck into you with renewed vigor. she could feel her own release fast approaching, her heavy balls tightening, ready to pump you full of her hot, thick seed.

“you want me to breed this hungry little cunt, babe? want to feel my cum flooding this tight fuckhole?” sophia growled, her voice a low, guttural rasp. she gripped your hips with bruising force, slamming into you with short, sharp thrusts that hit your cervix dead–on.

she leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss. her tongue invaded your mouth, dominating you, claiming you utterly. she swallowed your moans and cries, drinking in your pleasure like it was the finest wine.

“i’m gonna pump you so full of my fucking cum, (y/n). gonna mark this pussy as my property, make sure everyone knows who it belongs to. you’re going to be dripping with my seed for days, babygirl. a constant reminder of who makes this cunt feel this fucking good.” sophia promised darkly, punctuating each word with a hard, deep thrust.

her movements turned erratic, losing rhythm as she chased her impending climax. the closet is filled with the sounds of her grunts and growls, the slick, obscene noises of your coupling, and your own high���pitched keens of ecstasy. the air was thick with the musky scent of sex and the electric charge of your combined lust.

with one final, brutal thrust, sophia buried herself to the hilt inside you, her cock pulsing and throbbing as she found her release. thick, hot ropes of cum painted your insides, flooding your womb with his potent seed. she ground her pelvis against your ass, stirring her release inside you, making sure you took every last drop.

sophia roared, her head thrown back, tendons straining in her neck as she came. her body shuddered and jerked above you, lost in the throes of her intense orgasm. she filled you to the brim, and then some, excess cum bubbling out around her still–pulsing length to trickle down your thighs.

finally, with a shuddering gasp, sophia collapsed against you, her weight pressing you into the wall. she panted harshly, her breath hot against your neck as she struggled to catch her breath. you could feel her heart pounding in her chest, matching the frantic rhythm of your own.

slowly, she lifted her head, her dark eyes finding yours. they were glazed over, hazy with the afterglow of her intense climax. a lazy, satisfied smirk spread across her face as she took in your own expression of blissed–out ecstasy.

“fuck, (y/n)... that was incredible.” sophia murmured, her voice low and rough. she leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. it was a far cry from the frantic, desperate kisses of moments before, but no less passionate. she savored your mouth, your tongue, as if trying to memorize the taste of you.

“i knew you’d be a good fuck, but damn... i wasn’t expecting you to be this perfect.” she said, pulling back to brush a strand of hair from your face. her fingers lingered on your cheek, tracing the curve of your jawline with a gentleness that belied her earlier roughness.

sophia’s fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, before cupping your breast possessively. she squeezed the soft mound, her thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your nipple between them, coaxing it back to stiffness. her other hand slid down your stomach, feeling the way it fluttered and clenched at his touch, still sensitive from your intense climax.

“such a good girl, taking my load so well…” sophia purred, a wicked glint in her eye. she circled your belly button before dipping lower, fingers brushing through the slick, sticky mess of their combined releases. she brought her coated fingers to her mouth, sucking them clean with a low moan of approval.

“we make quite the delicious pair. i could get used to this taste, to the feeling of your tight little cunt gripping my cock like it never wants to let go.” she said, her voice a low, sinful rumble. her fingers trailed back down, teasing your slit, dipping into your entrance to stir up the cum plugging you up.

“but don’t think we’re done here, (y/n). i’m not nearly finished with this sexy little body.” sophia warned, a dark promise in her tone. she gripped your thighs, spreading them wider, opening you up completely to her hungry gaze. she could see the way her thick seed was leaking out of you, trickling down to pool on the floor beneath you.

sophia’s cock, still buried deep inside your fluttering walls, twitched and began to harden once more. she rocked her hips, thrusting lazily into your sensitive sex, working her renewed arousal deeper. her eyes never left yours, watching your face as he stoked the embers of your desire back into a roaring flame.

“seven minutes isn’t enough time to ruin you for anyone else, sweetheart. i want to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until the only thing you can think about is the feeling of my cock splitting you open.” sophia growled, punctuating her words with a sharp thrust that made your eyes roll back.

as much as you would love to continue, unfortunately you cannot. seven minutes in heaven is a game where everyone knows what you’re doing in the closet, and of course taking longer than necessary would take time and raise suspicions. besides, you couldn’t continue if you wanted to anyway since the group of boys were counting the time, clearly yearning for you two to go out to find out if sophia could finally stop being a “loser virgin” by being alone with a girl. “sophia, everyone would notice. we don’t have more time.”

sophia’s lips curled into a wicked smirk at your breathless protest. she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she murmured. “notice? sweetie, i want them to notice. i want everyone at this party to know that this sexy little body belongs to me now.”

she punctuated her words with a sharp thrust of her hips, driving her hardening length deeper into your sensitive core. a low moan spilled from your lips at the sudden intrusion, your fingers scrabbling at her back for purchase.

"we can go to the dorms— i don’t know if you roommate is there.”

sophia’s eyes flashed with a dark, wicked gleam at your suggestion. she leaned back, gripping your chin to tilt your face up to her. her thumb brushed over your lower lip, tracing it slowly. “mmmh, i like the way you think. a private room, a bed big enough for me to fuck you properly... i could make you scream so loud, the whole building would know who this tight little cunt belongs to.”

she rocked her hips, grinding her thickness against your sensitive walls, already fully hard and ready for another round. her other hand slid up your side, cupping your breast roughly, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. “but first…”

quick as a flash, sophia lifted you up and spun around, setting you on your wobbly feet. she kept an arm around your waist to steady you, not wanting you to fall. with her other hand, she swiftly tucked herself back into her jeans, not bothering to fully zip up. the bulge of her arousal was clearly visible, straining against the denim.

and well, you weren’t aware that sophia was an honest gentlewoman. she could have let you get ready by yourself while she finished arranging her own clothes, but seeing her pick up your clothes from the floor and gently place her hands on your body to dress you was something that surprised you.

she grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with her own, and began leading you towards the door. she paused for a moment, turning to press you up against the wall, and captured your lips in a last searing, hungry kiss. she licked into your mouth, her tongue stroking along yours, tasting you deeply. when she pulled back, you were both left panting.

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll make sure my roommate knows exactly what a dirty girl you are, getting fucked silly by a girl in my dorm room.” sophia purred, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “now, let’s go. i want to bend you over my bed and show you what a real girl can do.” sophia led you out of the closet, her grip on your hand tight and possessive. she pulled you through the crowded party, not caring who saw the intimate way she held you. in fact, she seemed to relish the stares and whispers that followed in your wake, a smug smirk on her face as she no doubt envisioned all the filthy things she planned to do to you once she got you alone.

when you reached the door of the closet, sophia paused for a moment, turning to face you. her hands slid around your waist, pulling your body flush against her own. she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as he whispered. “i can’t fucking wait to get you naked and spread out on my bed, (y/n). i’m going to take my time with you, explore every inch of this sexy body until i know it better than i know my own. and then, once i’ve got you dripping and begging, i’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget your own name. the only thing you’ll remember is the feeling of my cock splitting you open again and again, claiming this pussy as my own.”

with that dark promise ringing in your ears, sophia grabbed your hand once more and led you out into the cool party air. the dorms were a short walk away, and as you walked, her fingers never left your skin, caressing and teasing, stoking the constant ache of arousal that seemed to be a permanent fixture now that she had touched you.

the dorm room was dark and quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the party still going on in the next building. sophia kicked the door shut behind you, pushing you up against it and claiming your lips in a searing, hungry kiss. her hands roamed your body greedily, squeezing and groping, as if she couldn’t touch you enough.

sophia took you to her room, letting you enter first while she took care of closing the door. her room had pearly white walls, decorated with photographs of bands or posters of the same. there was a bookshelf standing on one side of the room, filled with records or albums of various bands, even some collectible figures or decorative things. her desk was messy, as was her bed.

she walked you backwards towards the bed, her lips now over yours. when the back of your knees hit the mattress, she pushed you down, following you onto the bed and settling between your thighs. in a simple blink of an eye she managed to remove all the clothes from your body, only this time you weren’t aware of it and didn”t notice when you felt her smile against your lips. she sat back on her haunches, drinking in the sight of you splayed out beneath her, completely at her mercy.

“fuck, look at you... spread out like a feast, just waiting for me to devour every last bite.” sophia purred, her voice low and rough with desire. her hands slid up your inner thighs, pushing them further apart, baring you completely to her heated gaze. she leaned down, trailing open–mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, her tongue darting out to taste you teasingly.

“i want you to ride me, babygirl.” she commanded, hee voice a dark, sinful rumble. she sat back, quickly unbuttoning her jeans and shoving them down her legs along with her underwear. her thick, hard cock sprang free, bobbing against her stomach as it leaked pre–cum.

sophia wrapped a hand around the thick length, stroking it slowly as she watched your face with a wicked grin. “i want to watch your sexy little body bouncing on my cock, tits jiggling in my face as you fuck yourself on me. i want to feel this greedy cunt squeezing me like a vice as you chase your pleasure.”

she tapped the swollen head of her dick against your entrance, coating it in your slick arousal. her other hand gripped your hip, squeezing the soft flesh as she held you in place, waiting for you to impale yourself on her.

“don’t be shy now, (y/n). take what you need.” sophia encouraged, her voice dripping with dark promise. “fuck yourself on my cock until you can’t take anymore. until the only thing you can think about is the feeling of my thick meat splitting you open, claiming this pussy as its own.

with a shaky breath, you reached down and gripped sophia’s thick shaft, lining it up with your entrance. you could feel the heat radiating off it, could see the way it throbbed with need. slowly, you sank down, taking just the tip inside at first. your body resisted, tight and unyielding, unused to such girth.

sophia’s eyes flashed with a dark, wicked gleam as she watched your face, taking in every micro–expression. she could see the way your brows furrowed, could hear the soft whimper that escaped your lips as you struggled to accommodate her size. she loved seeing you like this, loved knowing that she was the one causing such delicious discomfort.

“that’s it, babygirl.” she purred, his voice a low, sinful rumble. “take it nice and slow. let this greedy little cunt get used to the feeling of my big, hard cock stretching it out. you’re being such a good girl, taking me so deep…”

her words trailed off into a low groan as you sank down further, taking another inch of her thick length inside your fluttering walls. she could feel your velvety heat gripping her like a fist, squeezing and massaging her aching shaft. if took every ounce of her willpower not to grab your hips and slam you down, burying herself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

instead, she let you set the pace, watching with rapt attention as you slowly impaled yourself on her cock. Inch by tortuous inch disappeared inside your sex, until finally, with a shuddering gasp, you bottomed out. your ass rested against her thighs, her heavy balls nestled against your skin, and her cock pulsed deep inside your core.

“fuck, (y/n)... you feel incredible.” sophia groaned, her head falling back against the pillow as she savored the feeling of your tight, wet heat enveloping her completely. “i’ve never felt anything like this before. your cunt was made for my cock, fits me like a goddamn glove.’

she reached up, cupping your breasts in her large hands, kneading and squeezing the soft mounds. her thumbs and forefingers found your nipples, pinching and rolling the sensitive peaks until they pebbled and stiffened under her touch. all the while, she rocked his hips slowly, letting you feel every thick inch of her as she thrust up to meet your downward movements. her hands slid down your sides, gripping your waist possessively as she guided your movements, helping you bounce on her lap with increasing fervor.

“that’s it, baby.” she encouraged, her voice strained with pleasure. “ride my fucking cock just like that. use me for your pleasure, take what you need. i want to see this sexy body shaking and trembling as you come apart on my dick.”

sophia’s eyes darkened with lust as she watched your tits jiggle hypnotically with each roll of your hips. she leaned forward, capturing one peak in her hot mouth, sucking hard as her tongue flicked over the sensitive bud. her hand slid around to grope the globe of your ass, squeezing the firm flesh and pulling you harder against her, grinding your clit against her pelvis.

you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core as you rode her with wild abandon. the wet, obscene sounds of your coupling filled the room, mingling with your wanton moans and sophia’s guttural groans of pleasure. your slick arousal coated her shaft, dripping down to soak her balls and the sheets beneath you.

sophia’s grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your soft flesh as she felt your movements becoming more erratic. she could tell you were close, could feel your velvety walls starting to flutter and clench around his throbbing cock. she thrust up to meet your increasingly desperate bounces, the head of her dick kissing your cervix with each pass.

“that’s it, gorgeous.” she growled, her voice a low, sinful rumble. “come on my fucking cock. i want to feel this greedy cunt gripping me like a vice as you scream my name. let me feel you fall apart, knowing it’s me who made you feel this way.”

one hand slid around to your ass, gripping the globe hard enough to leave finger–shaped bruises. the other hand snaked between your bodies, clever fingers finding your swollen clit. she rubbed the sensitive nub in tight, hard circles, timed with the sharp snaps of her hips as she fucked up into you.

“i’ve got you, (y/n).” sophia panted, her breath hot against your neck. “you’re being such a good girl, taking my cock so well. i’m going to fill this pussy up so fucking good, pump you full of my cum until you’re dripping with it. everyone will know this cunt belongs to me, that i’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

with a few more powerful thrusts, sophia buried herself deep inside you and pinched your clit hard. the intense pleasure–pain pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. your sex clamped down on her cock, gripping her like a silken vise as you shook and trembled above her, your juices gushing out to soak her shaft and balls.

“fuck, (y/n)!” sophia roared, her head thrown back, tendons straining in her neck as your climax triggered her own. her hips jerked and stuttered, slamming up into you as she found her release. thick, hot ropes of cum painted your insides, flooding your womb with her potent seed. she gripped your hips, holding you in place as she pumped you full, making sure you took every last drop.

finally, with a shuddering groan, sophia collapsed back against the bed, pulling you down with her. she pulled you down to rest against her heaving chest, your bodies still joined intimately as you both struggled to catch your breath. one hand slid up your back, fingers splaying across your sweat–slicked skin as she held you close, stroking your back in soft circles that contrasted with her sharp touch from a few moments ago. the other hand cupped your face, tilting your head up to meet her heated gaze.

“fuck, (y/n).” sophia panted, her voice rough and low. “that was... incredible. i knew you’d feel amazing, but damn... i wasn’t expecting you to ruin me for anyone else.” she smirked, a wicked glint in her eye. “i don’t think i’ll ever be able to fuck anyone else without thinking about this tight little pussy squeezing my cock like it never wants to let go.”

she leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. it was a far cry from the frantic, desperate kisses of before, but no less passionate. she savored your mouth, your tongue, as if trying to memorize the taste of you. when she pulled back, she brushed a strand of hair from your face, her fingers lingering on your cheek.

“please, stay the night with me.” sophia murmured, her voice a low, intimate rumble. “i’m not nearly done with this sexy body. i want to wake up tomorrow morning with you in my arms, still buried inside this perfect cunt. i want to fuck you all night long, until we’re both too tired and sore to move.”

her cock, still hard and ready, throbbed inside you at the thought. she rolled her hips, stirring her release deeper, and groaned at the feeling of your slick walls clenching around her. clearly this was just the beginning of the night…

[northclairo]

my hands are up

[northclairo]

STOP M&M👅👅👅👅 THEY SOOOO FINE

serving boyfriends oh my god everyone meet my boyfriends

IM SICKKKK GUYS PLS THEY ALL LOOK SO GOOD DANI AND LARA'S BACK LOOK GOOD ASL sophia serving bf next to yoonchae who looks so stinking cute ohmygayness

IM RIPPING MY HAIR OUT

[northclairo]

WAIT i fear u cooked.. i like this..

is a reason why we haven’t gotten a mute, blind, deaf baking challenge with the kats (or katz…? IDK.) i know it’s an old trend but it’s still famous i fear… they’re off in two teams of three, obviously, and their goal is to see who makes the best cake taste wise and aesthetic wise (when they decorate it). also, no premade cake batter. like, no box cake flour or whatever it is. they have to make ts RAW (or wtv the bakers call it…) the teams are: manon, megan, lara and dani, sophia, and yoonchae (as seen in some interviews).

team one: we have deaf manon, blind megan, and mute lara.

team two: we have deaf dani, blind yoonchae, and mute sophia. this was kind of hard to decide because both soph and dani are the loudest members and i didn’t know who should be mute.

please…make this come true…please……

[northclairo]

— ✩♬ ₊˚. miss possessive ⭑ S.L

˚⟡˖⋆ synopsis jealousy isn’t her style. sophia just reminds you, with a look and a kiss, exactly who you belong to.

disclaimers: sophia laforteza x fem!reader. fluff…? slightlyyyyy suggestive 🤘 there’s definitely some tension here guys 😣 (not proofread) idk what else…possessive sophia 🙂‍↕️

currently playing miss possessive - tate mcrae

the room hums with music, laughter, and the low buzz of too many conversations blending together. you don’t even know why you’re here, at some afterparty following an event you only half-listened to, your head already elsewhere the second sophia laced her fingers with yours on the way in.

you had every intention of sticking by her side the whole night. you always do. but somehow, you ended up at the bar alone while she got pulled into some conversation with industry people.

and that’s when she appeared.

the girl was pretty enough. big smile, glittering eyes, dressed like she wanted attention. and unfortunately, she picked you for hers. she leaned in close, voice loud over the bass-heavy song vibrating through the walls, hand brushing your arm like you were already familiar.

you laughed politely, shifted slightly, but you didn’t step away. not because you were interested, never, but because you knew who was watching.

you felt sophia’s eyes before you even saw her.

across the room, standing near the corner, drink still full in her hand, sophia’s gaze was locked on you. on her. on the way the girl’s hand grazed your waist a little too comfortably. her expression wasn’t angry. sophia never explodes, not like that, but there was a sharpness under her calm exterior, something dangerous glittering behind her eyes.

possessive.

like she was ready to snap her fingers and have the world rearrange itself.

you let the girl finish whatever dumb story she was telling, nodding, laughing politely again, but your attention wasn’t on her. your whole body was hyperaware of sophia’s stare, like a string was tied between you, pulling tighter with every second.

finally, you excused yourself, lips curling in an easy smile, walking away like it didn’t take every ounce of self-control not to turn around and smirk.

you didn’t need to look to know.

sophia followed.

the hallway outside is quieter, darker, and the door barely clicks shut behind you before you hear her voice.

“was she funny?”

you turn to face her. she’s already close. always so fast when she wants to be. the moment you meet her eyes, your stomach flips. there’s something electric about her in these moments, when the sweetness fades just enough to let the edge of her possessiveness show.

“what?” you ask, playing dumb.

sophia tilts her head slightly, smirk creeping across her face. “that girl. the one who couldn’t keep her hands off you. was she funny? cuter than me? smarter? more your type?”

her words drip with sugar and venom both, her voice low enough that it vibrates in your chest. she steps closer, boxing you in against the wall without even touching you yet, like she knows you won’t move away. like she knows you never do.

you bite your lip, fighting the grin that threatens to spill out. “are you jealous?”

her gaze darkens, narrowing just slightly. “no.”

“i just like what’s mine to act like it.”

and god, you loved when she said that. you love how it makes you feel. wanted, claimed, owned in the softest, sweetest way that still sends heat down your spine.

you reach up, fingers curling into the collar of her jacket, tugging her in like you can’t help yourself. “you’re crazy.”

she smiles wider, that dangerous kind of smile that always gets her exactly what she wants. “i know. that’s the part you like, isn’t it?”

—

back at your apartment, she’s worse. and you love every second.

she touches everything like she’s reminding the space who you belong to. her fingertips trail along your dresser, your vanity, the corner of your bed. she picks up one of your necklaces and drapes it around your throat herself, lips ghosting over your neck as she fastens the clasp.

“you looked good tonight,” she murmurs against your skin, voice like silk. “even with people staring. even with that girl thinking she had a chance.”

you shiver, breath hitching as her hands slide down your sides, pulling you flush against her. she’s wearing that signature pink lipgloss. the one you know she reapplied on purpose in the car ride over, like she was preparing for this.

“did you think i’d get mad?” she asks softly, lips brushing your ear. “did you want me to get mad?”

you don’t answer. you don’t need to. the way you melt into her grip tells her everything.

her hands find your waist, then your hips, fingers curling like she owns every inch. “i don’t share, baby. not your time, not your smile. definitely not your mouth.”

“you sound like a brat,” you tease, breathless now, even as you lean further into her, daring her to close the distance. “you know that?”

sophia laughs quietly, leaning in, her lips grazing yours, but not connecting them yet. “i sound like someone who knows what she wants.”

“and what is it you want, laforteza?”

finally, she kisses you. full and hungry. her possessiveness bleeding through every touch. it’s not desperate, it’s controlled, calculated, but you can feel the need behind it. you always can. she pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips,

“you, baby. always you.”

you feel your back hit the edge of the bed as she walks you backwards, never breaking eye contact. her hands never leave your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush, heat radiating between you.

she dips her head again, lips brushing just under your jaw. “say it.”

your pulse races under her touch. “yours.”

she smiles against your skin, breath warm against your ear as her grip tightens slightly, not rough, but firm enough to send that familiar shiver down your spine.

“mine,” she echoes softly. “and don’t forget it.”

her hands slide up your arms, fingertips grazing your shoulders, drawing goosebumps across your skin. the tension hangs thick in the room. electric, intimate, and heavy with all the words unspoken between you.

sophia finally leans in again, voice low, velvet smooth. “you like how i get, don’t you?”

you nod, barely breathing. “i do.”

her lips ghost yours again, so close it’s dizzying, but she doesn’t press in fully. she makes you feel every millimeter of space she controls, savoring the power of it.

and when she finally does kiss you again, it’s slow, deep, and utterly consuming. not rushed, not frantic, just hers.

and you let her take her time. because you’re hers.

a/n: i love tate mcrae… that’s all 🤷‍♀️

[northclairo]

I STARTED HYPERVENTILATING RUBBING MY EYES TO SEE IF THIS WAS REAL😭😭😭😭😭😭IVE BEEN WAITING FORTHIS😭😭😭😭😭SILLYMOMMY6969 IS BACK😭😭😭😭

𝓑𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒂𝒅, 𝓢.𝓛.

♱ 𝒚𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐; 4 times sophia laforteza couldn’t stake her claim, and 1 time she proves just who you belong to

♱ 𝒄𝒘; 7th member au!r, jealous!s, possessive!s, touchy!s

𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆, pt. one, two, three

𝓢𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒂’𝒔 𝟓 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip one: [ weverse live ] gnarly eats w/ katseye

“oh, come on, you’re saying you didn’t think about it like that? not once?” lara asked, gaze trained on you with a teasing glint flickering in her eyes. you rolled your eyes at her insistence, like you hadn’t denied the same question twice already--when you had first joined dream academy’s training camp, you and lara were roommates. it wasn’t quite as obvious then as it was now, but she loved flirting with you. and she wasn’t shy about it.

“oh, please, like you don’t flirt with every pretty face you see.” you bit back, lips quirking into a coy smile. like the tease you were, you couldn’t resist an arising challenge. “i know you. and i know you love a good chase, raja.”

and like the stud she was, lara couldn’t back down. she let out a sultry laugh, her head tilting down briefly, her eyes fluttering shut. when she glanced back up at you, she was beyond ready to play your game. “so you know you got a pretty face, huh?”

user01 it almost feels like i’m interrupting something

user02 “dinner’s ready” i yell as i lay on the dinner table

user03 rock paper these two definitely scissor

daniela let out a loud whistle, fanning herself. you sat near the right end of the table, and sat between you and the indian singer was the fan-favourite roommate pair.

manon waved her hands, swallowing the bite she had swirling in her mouth before gently shoving the two of you back into your seats. you giggled at the unsubtle twist of disgust in her expression, but fall back away from the two anyways.

“ya’ll better back up before i call hr.” she threatened lightly.

at the other end, the far right, of the table, those assigned comments duty had their attention torn away from the screens cradled in their hands, necks craned to watch the two members absolutely taking the fandom by the neck right then.

megan, though a little lost in the conversation droning on on top of the flooding comments on the livestream, laughed along with whatever joke or antic she barely made out. she peered down at the ipad, words speeding much too fast for her dyslexic mind, but it was hard to miss some repetitive replies:

user04 do they know it’s legal now (it’s pride month too)

user05 i knew there was sth off about you… YOU’RE GAY

user06 like we’re all surprised they’re always flirting bro

“haha--someone said, ‘these lesbians’.” megan read aloud, her eyes widened as she passed yoonchae the ipad.

sitting at the end of that side, sophia was awfully quiet. she hadn’t touched her food in a while, and who was supposed to be the loud, present leader, was now a mysteriously silent observer. she bit back whatever shit she wanted to say, to yell, at an unsuspecting, but nevertheless guilty, lara raj.

it wasn’t the first time she had made her attraction to you known, despite your apparent disinterest in pursuing anything with one of your best friends. still, she persisted. and god, there was nothing in the world that pissed sophia off more.

“‘lara shooting her shot for all of us’,” megan continued reciting, “‘the way they’d make the hottest fucking couple is absolutely gnarly’--oh my god, it’s like a thirst box in here.”

sophia sulked, unwilling to take the ipad when yoonchae offered. she crossed her arms, leaning back into her seat as you all raged on about the intense support a hypothetical relationship between you and lara had managed to gather. every comment read aloud fuelled her irritant more. it was almost out of character, for somebody as vibrant a spirit as sophia, and a blind person could have noticed it.

user07 holy fuck if looks could kill sophia’s going on death row

user08 lara better wrap it up before she gets jumped

user09 when the loud ones go quiet yk shits hitting the fan

“what even happened back then?” daniela questioned, her fork hanging off her lips as she turned to you. mid-bite of the bowl of ramen in your mouth, you hummed. “i remember lara would like completely change her personality whenever y/n would come in a room or like join a conversation. it was so funny, like, everybody would make fun of her for it ‘cuz, like, what?”

“oh my god, when emily would give me the most obvious, unslick look when you would come up and talk to me. she was itching to say something every time,” lara groaned.

“really?” you giggled, “i hadn’t noticed… but now that you mention it, i do remember dani saying something about it.”

“yeah, she was so down bad, bro!” megan added, her infectious laughter tearing through the room. “so annoying.”

user10 i love the no pr training they just expose themselves

user11 we got lara’s love confession before a new comeback

user12 guys why is sophia so pressed this is sending me

upon a mindful nudge from daniela, you glanced to your left. sophia was sitting stiffly, her jaw drawn tight, trying to keep her smile from looking like a grimace. you knew that look. and you were praying she wouldn’t combust on live.

lara called your name softly. “no, but seriously. if i had made a move back then, who knows what would’ve happened?”

you shrugged, chuckling. who did know? perhaps way back during dream academy days, that version of you would have loved to shack it up with your indian bandmate. you rolled your eyes, flashing a tempting grin. you eased her subtle try at hitting on you. “oh please, you would’ve been rejected so fast.”

sophia leaned forward suddenly, her voice breaking the mold for the first time in what felt like eons. it came out a little sharp for her own taste, “yeah, well. good thing you didn’t.”

all eyes landed on their leader. the live silenced for a moment.

“sophia, you okay?” you asked, one brow raised. as bad as it sounded, you enjoyed lighting her fuse. it was entertaining.

“mhm,” sophia said, too quickly. “just... it’s super crazy.”

lara let out a low snort, jumping at the chance to poke fun at her usually composed leader. “what, jealous?”

sophia opened her mouth, then shut it. she reminded herself of the multiple cameras trained on her every move right then. she smiled, a sarcastically faux smile, but a smile nonetheless. you were familiar with her mannerisms well enough to know she was just itching to snap back, the slight twitch in her eye was more than enough of a hint for that. oblivious to the radiating vex from the filipina, you tilted your head, lost.

"please," she muttered, trying to sound unimpressed, laughing the jab off like a joke. "like i have anything to be jealous about."

user13 oh baby who is you this ain’t fooling nobody

user14 sophia try not to kill lara for being a dipshit challenge

user15 omg she’s feeding the n/nphinz agenda well

lara raised a brow in challenge. “possessive, much?”

“me? no,” sophia said curtly, exhaling deeply through her nose. she ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “see, i know y/n likes me better, i’m her… best friend. she’s mine, see?”

you wet your lips, catching sophia’s eye. you noticed the sharp, jagged edge of her smile. still, you couldn’t help the playful tug seeping through the smile that hung on your face. “you would have been shut down too. sorry, fi, no special treatment.”

user16 i would never socially recover from a public rejection

user17 she did NOT even stutter lmao poor sophia

user18 imagine having a face card so lethal you reject sophia

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip two: [ vlog ] angel city fc pride match w/ katseye

sporting the custom jersey, your name ironed across your back, you stood amongst your bandmates as seven pairs of feet stepped out onto the lush green field of angel city fc’s stadium. clutching your hand tightly, sophia lead you to stand sandwiched between all the other members. you waved and beamed up at the thousands of fans shrieking down at you.

your camera team followed you closely, documenting every little detail of this momentous occasion. sometime between the staged welcome and being lead to the stands where your seats were reserved, you had lost sophia’s clutch, and wound up in daniel’s instead. the latina, occupied by her surroundings, hadn’t even noticed when she grabbed your hand, tracing patterns over it as she added to megan’s story for the cameras.

you have never thought twice about it--daniela was a very affectionate person. but that didn’t mean others haven’t.

“mahal, come ‘ere,” sophia suddenly called from behind megan. your hand tugged away from daniela’s, who was still deeply engrossed in conversation about the double date story megan and lara had insisted on gate keeping from the fans.

her hands found your back, warm hands palming the soft skin of your hips, tucking your shirt into your bra the way it was.

then, her hands grabbed your hips firmly, pulling you down into her lap as her arms encircled your waist securely. her chin found your shoulder, her breath fanning your collarbone. you yelped, a little breathless as you ended up on her lap, legs entangled awkwardly, faces inches apart. you wondered what had gotten into the sweet, composed sophia you usually saw. like the eyekons have pointed out multiple times online, she had been acting awfully protective of you. it was odd.

“sophia,” daniela chuckled, “what’s going on there, hon?”

you felt her arms tighten around you when attention suddenly fell on the two of you. it squeezed a gasp from you, your hands finding hers clutching onto your stomach.

“nothing,” she grumbled, “just getting comfortable…”

daniela and megan shared a look, but upon seeing your dazed focus, they decided it wasn’t worth pissing off sophia.

throughout the game, you were engaging with fans and bringing a lively energy to the game. when sophia had eventually let you go, by the hand, megan dragged you over to some fans waving you over. she was entrapped by the labubu outstretched from the woman’s hand, cradling it as she squealed. you giggled, thanking the fan as megan picked and probed at the fanged creature on its keychain.

“y/n, i got one for you too!” she called, pulling a gold-furred (your assigned colour) one from her bag and holding it out.

“oh my goodness,” you gasped, taking it carefully. the corner of your lips pried from ear to ear as you glanced back up at the woman. “thank you, pretty girl. can i give you a hug?”

upon her very enthusiastic agreement, you stepped onto one of the seats in front of the stands, reaching up to wrap you arm around her neck tightly. the fan spared no time, encircling her own around your frame as she squealed into your ear.

just then, you heard a tsunami of fanfare plague the stadium.

megan’s hand continuously thrusted against the back of your shoulder. it took you a second to pull away from the hug, your head snapping back at the hawaiian at her persistent abuse. but she had her eyes set on something else, much further, and much higher. her arm hung high, finger erect and pointing high at a reflective, and very pink screen on the jumbotron.

mounted with animated hearts floating up the screen, pixelated frills lined the big heart. across the top sprawled big, bubbled letters: “KISS CAM!” framed in the centre of the heart was the fan and a familiar katseye member, your name on display as the screen delayed the shock on your face.

you glanced over at the younger for support, wordlessly pleading for a solution. but come on, it was megan.

“just do it.” megan encouraged, urging you towards the fan.

you cleared your throat, watching as the fan and her friend recorded the screen in excitement. you wagged a finger at her, cheekily tugging at your lip with your teeth as you stepped back onto the seat against the stands. you could see it took everything in her to contain the ecstasy coursing through her veins, but she digressed. you gently cupped her cheek, pursing your lips to plant a soft kiss against the other. the camera zoomed in on the mark staining her cheek, which was quickly masked by the faint shade flushing to her defined cheeks.

“oh my god, this is fucking crazy!” she slurred, drunk on you.

you laughed, clasping your hands together and blowing a kiss towards the cameras. and suddenly, soccer wasn’t the reason people were cheering throughout the crowd anymore.

you bid the fan farewell, thanking them once again for the gifts as you made your way back towards the seats assigned just for you. the kiss cam went to another few people in the stands, but none as captivating as yours.

“looks like you’ve made someone’s day,” manon chuckled when the two of you got back to the group. she pointed at the stands, where the fan had fallen back, her friend fanning her.

“or ruined someone else’s.” daniela mumbled, nudging your elbow. you could feel sophia’s sour expression from there.

a possessive hand grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back down into a warm lap. she didn’t say a word, not even a sound, but you could feel her through her grappling fingertips. she was silently praying the kiss cam would land on your group just so she could get a piece of you for herself. alas, no such luck.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip three: [ vlog ] lounging w the laforteza’s | katseye

it was no surprise when somebody would make their affections for you apparent, sophia had grown accustomed to it. could she blame them? you were katseye’s golden girl, everybody’s favourite in one way or another. though she liked having you under her arm, she knew she had to share. it wouldn’t be fair for people to not be able to enjoy the pleasure that was you.

when katseye were in the philippines for showcase week, the laforteza’s generously offered to host the girls for dinner the very first night. the week leading up to your flight, sophia was absolutely buzzing, eager to jump at the opportunity to go home and see her family. it made your heart swell.

“my mom’s going all out, y’know, she’s got so much food, i think we’re all about to implode.” sophia said to the camera, “man, i can’t believe you guys are all gonna be in my house, with my pets, my brothers… that’s insane.”

“yeah, yoonchae squared.” the maknae giggled.

“wait, didn’t bailey have a massive thing for y/n?” megan snorted, nudging the filipina with her elbow. you chuckled, beside megan, who was wedged between you and sophia in the middle row of the van. behind you, lara poked her head through the gap between you and megan’s, humming. “oh, yeah, and he’d come drop things off for sophia during dream academy all the time when your family visited.”

sophia had nearly forgotten about that. her eyes narrowed, reminiscing back to watching her brother become a flustered mess when y/n would come around during their da days.

“yeah, maybe he’s still into you.” manon teased, reaching back and poking you from the passenger seat up front.

“i’m sure he’s moved on from it,” sophia interjected, slicing through the playful atmosphere in the car. “it’s been months.”

“guess we’ll find out,” lara mouthed to the camera.

each of you got a suffocatingly tight embrace the moment you got out of the car. sophia’s parents spared no time ushering you all inside, the camera crew trailing closely behind. the boys stood, holding onto the pets by the front door, greeting and welcoming you all as you entered. as you stepped inside, you saw bailey’s demeanour change. he straightened his back, and held his head higher. he gave you a polite smile, offering a hand to help you through the doorway.

“oh! thanks, bailey,” you said, “it’s nice to see you again.”

his cheeks flush a darker shade, leaving his position by the door to walk you towards the kitchen. “it’s nice to see you.”

“thanks for having us, we’re super excited to be here and get our filipino friends together.” you joked, earning a tight chortle from the boy. the cameraman filming you two shot you a cheeky grin, which seemed to blow right past bailey’s head.

“yo, bails, mama’s asking for you to help with the food.”

the two of your heads snapped towards the doorway, sophia’s stern expression on her face. which was odd, considering the filipina had always had a soft spot for her brothers. which you wouldn’t have been able to tell, from the way her stern gaze was burning holes in the older boy’s head.

he gave you a smile, “i’ll talk to you later then. excuse me.”

when he stopped in front of his sister, expecting her to moved, she didn’t. he awkwardly squeezed past the slim gap.

“come on, fia, bullying your brother already? it’s been five minutes since we got here.” you shook your head, rubbing the sides of her arms teasingly. “the poor guy looked so scared.”

“i’m not bullying him. he’s being a creepy weirdo.”

something about the way sophia seemed to have to ward her own brother off was very jarring to fans. the vlog seemed to do wonders as clips of sophia’s undying possessive energy over you throughout the entirety of the dinner were posted. still, like the polite, game-loving gal you were, you refused to stay away from the boy. he was just being nice… and you could never be as mean to a friend as sophia wanted. world 3 - sophia 0.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip four: [ tiktok ] keeping up w katseye (@katseye)

(inspired by eve and clara reading bet fanfics on tiktok)

“okay, the good thing is, i think we won’t get flagged as easily if we do it here.” you explained to lara, who scrolled through the wattpad catalogue on her ipad hesitantly. you skimmed the comments eyekons were making, ushering you to read them by affirming your suspicions. “yeah, see? as long as we don’t show any porn up in here, we should be totally fine.”

user01 NO WHY THE FUCK WOULD YALL DO THIS

user02 yeah we ain’t ever getting another comeback after this

user03 fuck save yourselves we cooked fr lmao

user04 someone hide the kinky shit from them please lord

you and lara settled on a story eventually, which, you were much more interested in reading the ones with ridiculous descriptions, but by popular recommendations in the comment section, you decided on a “katseye x ceo trope” one instead. and with a theatric clear of her throat, lara was ready to start you guys off. and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“--‘she walked across the room with a certain confidence to her. a certain authority. it was almost… intoxicating.’” lara read, her voice dropping to a low, sensual tone. she gave the phone a narrow-eyed glance, “okay, they’re saying you’re serving an intoxicating aura. i mean, not lore accurate, but okay.” you swatted her in the arm, clicking your tongue. she snickered, holding up the ipad. “stop! i need to get into this, okay?” she cleared her throat again. “okay, wait, i think you should play yourself. i’ll tell you when to speak.”

user05 omg there’s no way they’re reading xxx

user06 LARA CHOSE A FUCKING LAFORL/N FIC WTF

user07 it was nice knowing ya’ll i’m kms after this

“--‘if there was one thing y/n couldn’t tolerate in her office, it was an arrogant attitude. lucky for her, her boss was cockiness strapped in tight purple stilettos--sophia laforteza.’ oh my god, wait, what? i didn’t know this was a you and sophia one.” the indian said. “hold on, ya’ll told me this was a katseye fic.”

you tilted your head, a small smile crept onto your lips. as lara scolded the fans in the chat, you skimmed ahead of the book.

user08 omg the smirk… this is it for me… i need it tattooed

user09 laforl/n deniers been real quiet in here huh

user10 THE SMIRK???? Y/N L/N YOU’RE A FREAKY MOFO

“okay, stop yelling at eyekons and keep reading!” you urged, clinging onto lara’s arm. you pursed your lips, feigning irritant as the older sighed, adjusting the ipad in her hands.

“--‘her employees would say y/n ran kats co. like a military unit. she was the hard-hitting strict boss. just the mere mention of her name could have the water boys quivering in their shoes.’” lara couldn’t contain her loud laughter at this inaccurate description of you. rolling your eyes at her amusement, you grabbed the tablet from her. “wha--hey!”

“you’re getting distracted! we’ve barely gotten through two paragraphs.” you shrugged, “i’m going to speed this up. i’ll be myself and when i tell you, you do sophia’s parts.”

user11 really channeling that strict boss energy rn babe

user12 omg i’ve read xxx they’re abt to be so traumatized bro

user13 WHAT THE FUCK SOPHIA’S IN HERE

“--‘y/n grabbed the stack of files sitting before her in the conference room. she dismissed her subordinates. i was so sick of incompetent men running the company to the ground. most times she was glad they had to report to her, if it were up to them, kats co. would’ve gone bankrupt already.’” lara couldn’t help but shake her head at how immersed in the story you were, not even sparing the live a glance. “‘they answer to her, but there was only one person y/n answered to.’”

you pointed at lara, who leant over to catch where you stopped. quickly, she pulled her voice higher, imitating the seductive edge sophia carried in her quieter tone.

“‘where’s my eea report for this month, l/n?’” the indian purred in your ear, an exaggerated smoulder on her face.

“‘the idiots in finance fucked the numbers up.’ i replied,” you continued, you switched to a grumpier tone, “‘i swear, i’m going to fire that excuse of a man sitting in that executive chair.’ sophia sported a smug smirk on her face, strolling over to the head of the table, where y/n sat. she leant against the table, crossing her arms. she looked down at her, like she always did, but this time, with a playful glint in her eyes.”

“wait, should i act this out?” lara asked. you agreed, and she propped herself up to rest on her knees, before leaning against the wall behind you. she looks down at you, imitating every action described in the story. you giggled at her getting immersed in her role. “‘i don’t like playing games, ms. l/n. if you keep messing up, i’ll assume you’re doing it on purpose.’”

your nose scrunched in light cringe at lara’s faux ‘sexy sophia’ voice. nevertheless, you continued.

“‘why, laforteza? do you think that little of me?’ y/n says, but like she had anticipated what she was going to say, sophia scoffs, smirk still evident on her face.” per your instruction, lara’s lips spread into a smirk. “grabbing her chin, sophia bit her lip, like she was craving more than just that little bit of contact. but she had to remind herself that they were sat in the conference room, where anybody could walk in.”

lara grabbed your chin gently with her hands, and you nearly double over in hysteria as the two of your gazes met.

user14 i can’t keep doing this my fingers are cramping

user15 they’re really taking advantage of the no pr rule

user16 wetter than ever or whatever billie said

“oh my god, you guys are freaky bitches.” lara chuckled, fingers still around your chin. you were oddly comfortable where you sat, unwilling to tear your chin away. your eyes rolled to read the comments, hooded and blinking slow.

user17 not ya’ll ignoring sophia’s crash out comments lmao

sophia<3 yo back up doing this on live is crazy

user18 the unbothered energy for their leader is so n/nlarz

sophia<3 don’t make me ban you guys from going live

you couldn’t help but smirk wider at the filipina’s words, knowing this must’ve gotten her blood boiling. you turned your head, glancing up at lara with glossy eyes and fluttering lashes. “should we ask eyekons if we should keep reading? or should we leave some of this to their wild imagination?”

the older chuckled, “well, it sounds like sophia doesn’t exactly approve. i don’t think we can read the next part aloud anyway.”

#n/nlarz was trending on tiktok for a bit after that live. with edits to clips of the two of you going viral one after another. it was safe to say your marketing team couldn’t be more grateful for the unhinged method of promotion, but it was bringing incredibly attraction to gnarly’s comeback schedule.

still, perhaps not everybody was as happy with your actions.

sophia<3 oh you guys are getting house chores tn

sophia<3 lara raj don’t make me do something ill regret

sophia<3 why are you guys encouraging this i’m disappointed

sophia<3 y/n mahal stop testing me please

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip five: [ leaks ] coachella 2025 hard launch?

𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒍? katseye’s y/n and sophia caught getting too close for comfort at jennie’s coachella set

by: lexi storm | tmz | april 20, 2025

amidst romance rumours, katseye bandmates, sophia and y/n, seemed to have taken on addressing the hearsay by getting touchy-feely at kpop star, jennie’s coachella set.

in a video posted early this morning to @popbase, the bandmates were caught on camera being extremely close and personal--and fans are spiralling into a frenzy as rumours of it all being “platonic affection” has been seemingly debunked.

*attached bad-quality video of you two*

the now-viral 30-second clip, allegedly taken after the group’s april 13th performance in chicago, shows sophia with her arms wrapped around your waist tightly from behind. the two of you were heavily accessorized, but fans could not miss the way you were whispering back and forth. sophia kissed up the back of your neck, and you threw your head back to rest it against her shoulder. an intimate gesture some were calling, “gf core”.

later in the video, you turned around to encircle your arms around sophia’s neck, and the filipina could be seen beaming from ear to ear as you mouthed the lyrics to slow motion.

just before the clip ends, sophia leant in to press a soft kiss against your lips. her ringed hands sliding across your heaving midsections as the two of you melted into each other. it was safe to say this was much better than any soft or hard launch you could ever post, and though the video quality might be just a little too low, it was hard to mistake your distinct visuals.

the hashtag #laforn/n has started trending within hours.

user01 girl wbk that ain’t no friendly pose who you fooling

user02 i fucking knew it since paris fashion week

user03 ogs have been on this train since their da days

user04 quick! everyone act surprised!

past clues? this isn’t the first time these two have been linked. in february, fans noted they wore identical “couple” rings during katseye’s press tour for their debut ep, soft is strong. and just last month, y/n posted a photo during their pit stop in new york fashion week of dinner with a city view, table set for two, captioned, “happy valentine’s day to all of you my loves <3”--and sophia liked the it within seconds, followed by a now-deleted comment that simply read: “happy valentine’s mahal”.

during katseye’s iheartradio feature in the philippines for their “touchdown in manila” fan showcase, when asked about their “onstage chemistry”, sophia laughed and replied with, “guess we just connect really well offstage… some people you don’t have to rehearse with to be in sync.” y/n turned bright read and sipped on her coffee in silence. suspicious much?

so far, there has been no official statement from either sophia, y/n, or katseye’s management. a source “close to the group” told tabloid today: “they’re just really close friends. everyone in katseye is like family… [sophia and y/n] just have a special bond. on whatever basis, please respect that its their privacy.”

sure, girl. way to make a pr statement sound more stupid.

meanwhile, fans continue dissecting old concert footage, looking for signs they missed. there has been a bundle of clips compiled into a series called, “subtle and secret”. one clip from a tokyo show in october shows y/n subtly wiping lipstick from sophia’s lips and cheek backstage.

whether it’s a deep “friendship” or the pop world’s next power couple, one thing’s clear: sophia and y/n are more than just bandmates. and if the video leak is any indication, katseye’s popular vocal duo share more than work behind the scenes.

got tea on the katseye girls? slide into our dms @tmzofficial

𝒂𝒏; low and behold… i’m back. i’m trying my best to write faster but i like quality over quantity. hope you guys enjoyed!

𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒙𝒙

[northclairo]

THIS IS SO 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥GUYS LOOK AT THIS I LOVE DITTOVERSE THIS SI SO AMAZING

#DITTOVERSE by @coolwyous

[northclairo]

i know she’s just being silly goofy but her ARMS…….

[northclairo]

this was so cute ☹️☹️ meiyok ☹️☹️☹️☹️ i need more of jelly megan ☹️☹️☹️

Protective or Possessive? (Jealous)

Three moments Megan showed how she was protective or possessive over 7thmember!yn, inspired by Jealous by Nick Jonas.

tags: 7thmember!yn, fluff, attentive!Megan, downbad!Megan

notes: 3.2k. first post yippee!

“You can call me obsessed”

In the live with D4VD and Pokimane, it just so happens that yn and Megan sit on opposite sides of the table. The doesn’t happen often, actually; it’s no secret that yn and Megan are one of the closest friendships in the Kats. Evidence of their friendship dates all the way back to the first few episodes of the Katseye documentary. They simply feel more comfortable to sit next to each other than to not.

So yeah, Megan’s already a little put out when she sits down and realises that it’s not YN that’s lowering herself in the seat next to her. She tries not to make it too obvious that she frowns when she realises it’s Lara instead. Her eyes seek out to find where YN is, and feels that she has to hide her frown even more when she sees that YN on the other side of the table already in deep conversation with Yoonchae, not even seeming to have realised how far apart they are. Megan clasps her hands tightly in her lap.

She can’t help that she feels like she’s paying less and less attention as the live goes on. Whatever, it’s early, that’s what she’ll say her excuse is if someone asks her later on. She keeps feeling herself dissociating, and when she’s not, she’s staring at YN on the other side of the table.

However, at some point, they start to tuck a bit more into the food, and she sets her sights onto the carbonara buldak in front of YN and Yoonchae. It’s at that exact same time that she sees Yoonchae realise there’s a bubble tea in front of Megan. Yoonchae’s wide eyes flick up to Megan. Jackpot.

Megan gets out of her seat confidently, passing by the backs of each of her members until she gets behind Yoonchae and YN’s seats. She lays a casual hand on the back of YN’s shoulder blades.

Yoonchae’s already looking at her, but Megan’s touch on YN instantly gets her attention as well, swivelling around in her seat to look up at Megan.

Megan tries not to blush at the feeling of YN looking up at her. She gives a friendly smile to Yoonchae. “I want some of the buldak. Switch seats with me.”

“Huh?” Yoonchae says, though she starts to politely get up out of her seat anyway.

Megan claps her on the shoulder, so unlike the soft sweep of her fingertips that she touched YN with. “I could see you were looking at the bubble tea, right? Let’s just switch.”

Yoonchae doesn’t really seem to realise she’s ambling out of her seat anyway, and she looks downright shocked when Megan manages to slip into her seat as soon as Yoonchae’s standing up. Not one to make a scene, especially in front of people she doesn’t know so well, she just walks behind the girls’ seats and drops into Megan’s old chair. Lara drops an arm around her shoulder, a smile on her lips. “She could’ve just passed the drink down the line,” Yoonchae mumbles, but Megan hardly hears it.

Now firmly in the seat next to YN, Megan finds herself shuffling the seat more toward the table, but really she’s shuffling it sort of diagonally so she ends up closer to YN.

When Megan looks up, YN’s still looking at her, though there’s a playful smile now on her lips. “Hey,” YN says quietly.

“Hey,” Megan answers back, feeling the need to tuck some hair behind the back of her ear, and then finds herself undoing the action immediately.

YN nudges the bowl of buldak closer to Megan.

Megan looks at her blankly.

“Buldak? You said you wanted some,” YN prompts.

“Oh!” It springs Megan into action, grabbing blindly for the chopsticks and almost ends up dropping them completely. “Right,” she murmurs most to herself, but she hears the gorgeous giggle from YN’s lips and knows she’s been caught.

“Silly,” YN chides softly, and then Megan feels the tips of YN’s fingers against the outside of her neck for just a second as she draws Megan’s pink-tipped hair over her shoulder so as not to get it in the noodles. The attention makes Megan fumble again. She clears her throat, trying to look casual, trying not to bring attention to how hot her neck and cheeks feel, and brings a bite of the noodles to her mouth.

“Careful, Megs,” YN says, and lays a hand over the one Megan has holding the noodle cup to bring it closer under Megan’s mouth, making sure she doesn’t drop any.

This woman is going to kill her, Megan thinks. While she munches on the noodles, she tries looking anywhere but YN, even though she can still feel her watching her, and ends up seeing Yoonchae looking between them with narrowed eyes.

Locking eyes with Yoonchae, Megan gulps.

2. “I don’t like the way he’s looking at you”

They’ve started to get big enough that people are recognising them in normal places. Before they get off the flight back to LA from South Korea, their manager gives them the heads up that there might be some fans that got tipped off about them arriving tonight, and should try to remain as incognito as they can.

The girls take it seriously. It’s already late at night and none of them are too used to flying very often, so the past few hours have been pretty subdued. YN’s been dozing off on Megan’s shoulder, but Megan couldn’t find it in her to try the same. She’s not too comfortable sleeping sitting up, and besides, she keeps thinking about how much nicer it’ll be when they’re back home and YN and her can cuddle in bed or on the couch instead.

Yoonchae carried a whole bunch of face masks in her carry on for the flight, and starts handing them out. Megan grabs one for her and YN. She’s asleep at the moment, but she’ll help her put it on before they leave the plane.

YN sleeps all the way until the wheels touch the tarmac, and then her eyes start fluttering and she pulls off from Megan’s shoulder. Megan almost pouts.

“Sorry,” YN says groggily. “I didn’t realise I was doing that.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind,” Megan replies immediately. No seriously, she doesn’t mind at all.

“You should’ve said something,” YN murmurs, rubbing at her eyes.

“Why would I?” Megan murmurs back, almost a little offended.

YN only just looks up at her when the rest of the girls start to get up out of their seats, gathering their stuff to leave as soon as the plane doors are open.

“You got some masks?” Sophia asks, stepping into the aisle.

“Yeah, right here,” Megan says, standing up and holding them for her to see. Sophia nods at her briskly.

Megan flattens one out, pinching the nose strip and holding an ear loop in each hand. She turns to YN as she stands up next to her and holds it out.

“Hold still,” Megan says softly. YN keeps her eyes firmly on Megan, but Megan keeps to the task at hand, following the movement of her own hands closely to draw one ear loop over YN’s right ear, then the other over her left ear. Then, pulls the nose strip more firmly over the bridge of YN’s nose and pulls the bottom down under her chin. Once she’s satisfied, she nods her head to herself and quickly pulls her own mask over her face.

“Thanks, Megs,” she hears YN say softly, then watches her reach an arm out to untangle some pieces of Megan’s hair from the ear loops of her mask.

They gather their stuff quickly and file into the aisle behind Manon and Dani, all trundling off the plane in a group.

Their walk to the baggage carousel is relatively quiet, with only a few tired passengers seeming to maybe get their first clues of recognition, but the girls are moving with enough purpose that no one goes to stop them. 

Once they’re at the carousel though, they’re stationary long enough that people can gather their courage to come over.

Out the corner of her eye, Megan can see a young guy starting to make their way over. She shuffles a little closer to YN, who notices her movement and looks up at her from her phone. Megan continues to look out towards to the carousel to will their baggage in front of them, but most of her attention remains on the guy in her periphery.

“Excuse me?” He says, nice enough.

She can see Sophia lifts her head up and sends him a polite smile. “Hi.”

“Are you guys Katseye?”

Megan can see that Sophia sweeps her eyes around the people waiting at the carousel. His words haven’t really gathered attention, so she nods, the line of her shoulders relaxing a little. “Yes, we are.”

“That’s awesome!” It’s clear that he’s excited to meet them, but he’s being quiet and respectful enough to not catch anyone else’s attention and cause a riot. “I’m such a big fan of you guys, I can’t believe I got to meet you just like this, that’s crazy!”

Megan sees his eyes move from one member to the next, but her eyes narrow when she realises his gaze stops a little on YN.

YN’s attention is half on their conversation and half on her phone. Bless her, she’s still pretty tired from the plane trip, and she promised to tell her parents as soon as she got into the airport.

Watching YN type tiredly on her phone, her eyelashes fluttering in the phone’s light, has made Megan feel like the conversation with the young fan drops to the background. “Actually,” Megan slightly hears him say, though she pays more attention to watching as YN’s eyes screw shut and the mask over the lower half of her face stretches as she yawns. Megan feels the corners of her mouth lift. “My bias is YN.”

Megan’s eyes immediately move to the guy, as does YN’s. Hearing her own name has finally pulled her attention to their conversation.

“Oh!” YN says delicately, and Megan almost can’t be mad at the guy for seeing how blatantly the adoration fills his eyes. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. Thank you for being our fan.”

“Of course,” he replies, almost absently. It looks like he can’t even believe he’s having a conversation with her, and she starts to feel offended on Sophia’s behalf that he wasn’t like that with her.

Megan clears her throat, shuffling a little on her feet.

She hears footsteps over her shoulder and turns around to see that their manager has picked up a few of their bags: YN’s backpack and a few of their suitcases.

YN reaches a hand out for her backpack, still maintaining polite conversation with the fan. As she pulls the straps over her shoulders, Megan steps behind her, almost automatically, to help haul it squarely onto her back. Once it’s secured, she steps next to her to smooth the left strap over her shoulder. She wills herself to ignore the conversation that still continues between YN and the fan while she grabs hers and YN’s rolling suitcases from their manager.

While the rest of the girls get situated with their baggage, Megan feels YN lay her hand over Megan’s on YN’s luggage. When YN starts to tug it toward her, Megan says adamantly, “I got it.”

YN blinks up at her, and Megan watches as YN’s blinks still look long and slow, her lashes fluttering with the weight of her lids. “Are you sure?”

Megan nods, tapping the toes of her shoes against YN’s. “Just walk next to me.”

Megan wishes she could see the way YN smiles at that under her mask, but instead she basks in the quick warmth of YN dropping her forehead against Megan’s shoulder quickly in thanks.

Megan almost scowls when YN turns her attention back to the young guy, whose been watching them. Is he still here? “It was nice to meet you,” YN says, the polite dismissal obvious.

“You too,” he says, his eyes jumping from YN to Megan, then quickly adds, “all of you! Thanks so much for your time. I’ll let you guys go now.” He smiles at them all quickly, individually, then turns to look at the carousel and grab his own luggage.

Megan purses her lips to herself. She can’t even be mad at him for being an overbearing fan, he just – well, he just paid more attention to YN when it was obvious YN was tired. But did YN dislike it? It didn’t seem so – they all like when their fans tell them they bias them. She can’t fault him for that. So what was it that Megan didn’t like about him?

She felt a tug at the crook of her elbow, and looked down to see YN’s hand winded around it. “Shall we go?” YN said softly, only to her.

YN kept her hand around Megan’s elbow as they walked, with Megan rolling each of their suitcases in each hand, following the rest of the girls towards their car.

3. “I wish you didn’t have to post it all”

Megan should’ve known it was coming. They share a joint Instagram account, and she knew through the comments that the people were just dying for some more YN content.

YN didn’t post that often, and that suited Megan just fine. That’s not to say that YN didn’t take photos, because she did. She was one of the more active members in their group chat, sending photos left and right, both serious and goofy. Megan just knew she felt a little shy about sharing them with the world.

But yeah, the girls themselves were starting to catch on that their fans wanted YN to post more, and so every time she sent a cute (really really cute, and really really pretty) photo to their group chat, the girls would encourage her to post it on their Instagram.

Manon: girl you know the fans would eat that pic up

Dani: yeah you should post this one!

Lara: babes this is giving wifey shit you need to post this stat

Megan watches the texts for her group members pour in, but her eyes keep flicking back up to that photo. YN’s out with some of her other friends today at an apple orchard, and she’s put her hair up with this long ribbon, bangs curling around her face, and this gorgeous summer dress that sticks to YN’s torso like it was made to her exact measurements, and flows out around her knees. YN’s lips are stretched into a careless grin, her eyes closed.

And Lara’s right, she does look like wife material because the longer Megan stares at that photo the longer her maladaptive dreaming about a shared house and shared last name and shared pets and shared kids starts to sound like Megan should risk it all.

“Megan!” It’s Sophia that bustles through her door, and it scares Megan so bad that she immediately tries to swipe away from the photo (as if it wasn’t sent to her) and she fumbles so bad and no no she wasn’t doing anything weird or suspicious but now she’s actually dropped her phone and it hits her in the chin and she looks so suspicious now.

But thankfully Sophia seems to be on a mission, barely even reacting to Megan dropping her phone and now cradling her chin. Instead, she pulls at Megan’s other hand to haul her out of bed, saying, “I need you to persuade YN to post that photo, she’s not listening to any of us and you’re our last hope.”

Megan stumbles after her, still cradling her chin (that actually really hurt) and hardly paying attention until she’s shoved to a stop in front of YN.

All the girls were sitting in the living room, and YN had pushed herself into the corner of the couch with a pillow clutched protectively in front of her.

“Huh?” Megan says eloquently, blinking herself back to life now that YN’s right in front of her. She realises she was still embarrassingly holding her chin, and whips it down by her side.

“She needs to post that photo, right, Megan?” Sophia prompts, and Megan almost feels a little scared. She peeks over at her and thinks, yep she should be scared, when she sees the fire in Sophia’s eyes.

“Uh, I mean, yeah. If you’re comfortable to.” Megan stutters out, still shifting on her feet in front of YN lounging on the couch.

“Well, I mean—” YN drops her gaze to her hands, shuffling her phone between them on the pillow. She resolutely keeps her eyes there. “Do you think it’s a good photo?”

Megan blinks down at her, trying her hardest to make sense of it all. One minute ago nothing existed for her except that one photo, and now her chin hurts and YN is right in front of her and she can feel all the girls looking at her.

Lara hits her on the shoulder, bringing her back to reality. Megan jolts. “It’s a really good photo!” She hears herself say, and she immediately squeezes her hands into fists to stop the blush coming up her neck. She knows she hasn’t yet persuaded YN, who’s still looking down at her hands with furrowed eyebrows.

She pushes through her own embarrassment. She closes her eyes. She softens her voice. “You look… really pretty. In that photo.”

It gets YN to lift her head, only minutely, to look up at Megan shyly through her lashes. “Really?”

Megan nods. “Definitely. I think it’d be really nice – for the fans. If you posted it.”

YN just looks at her for a bit. Megan tries to not to give anything away – anything that might make her look weird or suspicious. She balls her hands behind her back, and she keeps her eyes trained on YN’s shuffling fingers, but she can’t pull her eyes up to meet YN’s.

To be honest, she’s feeling a little conflicted. She’s not lying, don’t get her wrong – she’s never seen anyone as pretty as YN in that photo. But is it really that wrong of her to want YN not to post the photo? She’s been secretly very happy that she’s one of the only people who get to see these photos. She’s one of the only ones who gets to look at YN in photos like those and think about the kind of life they could have if they had someone like YN. Probably the only one – unless any of the other Kats have something to tell her. It’s a little piece of YN that Megan gets and their fans don’t, but now. Well, it was only a matter of time until public relations came a-knocking.

“Okay,” Megan hears YN mumble, and when Megan lifts her eyes she sees that YN finally smiling, a shy little curve of the mouth under a bowed head. “As long as you’re okay with it – you’re all. Okay with it.”

Manon snorts. “Yeah girl. You knew we were okay with it.”

YN’s eyes skate across the girls, ending inevitably on Megan’s. Seeing Megan standing there in front of her, still shuffling, chin red – somehow, her eyes grow even softer.

[northclairo]

HAPPI MONDAY GUYS

LOVE ON A WIRE.　 23. happy monday

❛ megan has never, ever wanted anything as bad in her life, until you—an underground singer and songwriter, is unemployed, and the textbook definition of a loser—stroll into her heart and her life. matter of fact, what happens when she accidentally replies to your thirst-traps that were a rebounding joke after a rough break-up, on twitter, and on the katseye account? ❜

PREV.　MASTERLIST.　NEXT.

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[northclairo]

give me that dih

SNOOZE ✵ MANON BANNERMAN.

❀ ༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ alt. I CAN’T LOSE WHEN I’M WITH YOU

HOW CAN I SNOOZE AND MISS THE MOMENT .ᐟ

ᝰ.ᐟ manon comes home early from promotions to the smell of garlic, the sound of your playlist, and the sight of you in her shirt. dinner can wait. she missed you too much to pretend she didn’t.

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. g!p!manon x fem!reader ᝰ.ᐟ genre. smut (18+). ᝰ.ᐟ tags/warnings. cursing, unprotected sex (wrap it fore you tap it) established relationship, praise kink, fingering, slight size kink, pet names (baby).

ᝰ.ᐟ wc 1.5k

ᝰ.ᐟ katty requested by anon 🤭

(🎧) now playing — snooze by sza.

masterlist.

YOU DON’T HEAR THE DOOR.

the pan sizzles softly, the smell of garlic and sesame oil curling up into the kitchen light. your playlist hums somewhere behind you. you’re barefoot on the tile, hair pulled back, wearing one of manon’s shirts and tiny shorts. it still smells faintly like her, perfume and and that hotel smell.

it’s just after 11:30. she wasn’t supposed to be home yet. you had everything timed: noodles finishing around midnight, bathtub filled, candles lit, towel warm in the dryer. a full plan, down to the forehead kiss before she passed out on your chest.

you’re too caught up in it all to notice the door unlocking. then her suitcase rolling in. then the subtle sound of her feet against the hallway floor.

you only notice when two arms wrap around your waist from behind and a very tired voice finds your ear.

“smells good.” she murmurs.

your heart stutters.

“manon. you’re— what? you weren’t supposed to be here yet.” you drop the spoon straight into the pan and try to whip around halfway, but she tightens her grip, chin resting on your shoulder now.

“wait, don’t move. just— give me a second.” she says.

you nod, heart stuttering as she presses against your back. her hands slide under the hem of your shirt, cool fingers finding skin like they’ve missed the feeling. she exhales, breath brushing your neck.

“hi to you too.” she adds.

“you’re early.” you say quietly while smiling.

“caught the earlier flight.”

“you could’ve warned me.”

“that would’ve ruined the whole dramatic reveal.”

you huff, barely hiding the smile forming onto your face. “i had everything planned.”

she presses a soft kiss to your neck. “mhm. i can tell. you’re a dream right now.”

you try to elbow her but it doesn’t land. she just laughs and pulls you closer.

“you’re distracting me.” you mumble.

“now you see what you do to me. i’m in love.”

you pause.

then let out a breath and melt a little in her arms.

“i made your favorite. then i was gonna run you a bath. the lavender one. after that, we’d watch a movie. something dumb you’d fall asleep to.” you say.

it’s silent. you can feel her fingers flexing against your abdomen.

“you’re perfect. you know that?” she murmurs.

you glance over at the pan — steam still hovering over it — then lean back against her just enough to let her feel it. the way your body fit together perfectly, how warm you are, how present both of you are.

“dinner’s almost ready. you wanna sit down?”

“not really. kinda just wanna stay right here.” her hands slide along your stomach, still tucked under your hoodie.

you let the spoon rest on the edge of the pan, heat still on low. “missed me that much?"

her breath hitches behind you.

“more than i should admit out loud.”

you bite your lip.

“manon.”

“sorry. i don’t know what to tell you. you smell really good and you’re cooking for me like the love of my life.”

she doesn’t sound sorry. just breathless.

you try to speak, but you fail and she notices.

her voice drops.

“can i touch you a little?”

you nod before you even realize it. “yeah.”

“yeah?”

you finally turn to face her. she looks tired. really tired. but her eyes are focused in a way that makes your breath catch.

“i missed you.” she says.

“i missed you too.”

then there’s silence.

“come here.”

her hands shift, one behind your thigh, with the other at your back, and before you can even think to react, she lifts you up and settles you on the edge of the counter like you weigh nothing.

you gasp. “you could’ve said something.”

she totally ignores you, stepping between your legs. her smile softens. “god, look at you.”

she finally kisses you then, and it’s nothing like her usual rushed post show kisses. it’s slow. like she’s pacing herself.

and when she pulls back, her forehead presses to yours. her voice drops to a whisper.

“i’ve been thinking about you every night. and now you’re here looking like this.” she says.

you blink at her.

she smiles again. “you’re lucky i’m tired. or you would’ve been screaming already.”

you bite your lip, cheeks flushed.

“dinner’s gonna get cold.” you reply weakly.

“let it.”

her mouth is back on yours before you can say anything else. slower this time. deeper.

you kiss her back, arms wrapping around her shoulders, fingers slipping into her curls at the nape of her neck. she groans quietly and presses her body closer, hips sliding forward just enough for you to feel it again. the weight of her against your core.

you gasp softly into her mouth.

she pulls back just enough to breathe, lips brushing against yours as she mumbles. “you’re killing me right now.”

you smile, slightly dizzy. “i haven’t even done anything.”

“that’s the problem.” she mutters, leaving slow, open mouthed kisses right under your jaw.

you whimper when her teeth graze your sweet spot.

she smiles against your skin. “yeah. that’s what i'm talking about.”

her hand slides down your thigh, slow and steady. she cups the back of your knee, nudging it gently up around her waist until you open for her. the hem of your shorts rides higher. and she bunches up her shirt around your waist.

“you’re so fucking pretty.” she whispers, eyes trailing down.

your cheeks flush.

she kisses you again, then moves her lips down to your jaw, throat, and collarbone. her hands never stop moving. they wander beneath the fabric, fingertips gliding along your ribs, your stomach, up to your chest, until she palms over you through the thin fabric of your bra.

you gasp, hips twitching.

she grins, sleepy but hungry.

“you’re warm. fuck, i missed your body.” she says quietly, thumbing over your nipple.

you squirm, tugging at the collar of her hoodie. “take this off.”

she shrugs it over her head and you instantly reach for her shoulders.

her hand trails back down between your legs. she presses two fingers against the center of your shorts — slow, with no pressure yet, but just enough to make you whine.

“you’re already wet?” she whispers.

you nod.

“of course you are. you missed me too, huh?” she murmurs.

you nod again and she smiles into your mouth as she kisses you. her hand starts to move in slow circles through the fabric, firm enough to make your stomach flutter.

“i don’t wanna rush tonight.” she says, lips dragging across your cheek.

you moan softly and she shushes you gently.

“just keep your legs open. let me feel you.” she whispers.

you nod, biting your lip. her hand slips under your shorts this time — no more teasing. her fingers find your folds, hot and so sensitive it makes your back arch.

“shit. you’re dripping.” she mutters, dragging her fingers through the mess.

you can’t even speak. just a breathy moan, high and helpless.

“dreamt about how warm you are. how tight you squeeze me when you’re close.” she says, kissing your throat again, slower now.

you rock your hips up into her palm. she lets you. lets you chase the pleasure as she pushes two fingers inside you, slow and deep.

you gasp and your arms tighten around her.

“yeah, baby. fuck yourself on my hand.” she whispers, curling her fingers just right.

you’re clenching around her already, eyes fluttering shut, thighs trembling slightly where they wrap around her waist.

“you’re so deep.” you whimper.

she groans at that. “don’t say shit like that— fuck.”

she pulls her fingers out, slick and shining, and you watch through low eyes as she tugs her sweats just low enough to free her dick. her tip presses against you instantly.

“ready?” she asks, forehead pressing to yours.

you nod. “please, manon. need it.”

she pushes in slowly — stretching you open, inch by inch. your mouth drops open, eyes fluttering closed. her hands hold your hips steady, grounding you as she bottoms out.

“fuck. you’re squeezing me so tight already.” she groans.

you moan, arms wrapping around her shoulders now. she starts to move with slow thrusts, deep and steady, grinding her hips just enough to make you feel every inch.

you’re already close again, breath hitching with every roll of her hips.

“you feel so good. so fuck— you’re so big.” you whimper.

manon shudders, rhythm faltering for just a second.

“say that again.”

“you’re so big— stretching me so good— i’m— fuck, i’m gonna cum—“ you gasp.

“yeah? wanna feel you cum for me. do it, baby.” she pants, eyes locked on your face

and you do.

you cum hard, mouth open in a silent cry, legs locked tight around her waist. your cunt clamps down around her dick so hard it pulls a moan out of her.

“you’re— shit, i’m not gonna last—“ she groans.

you’re still shaking when she starts fucking you faster, hips slamming into you now. her hands are gripping your waist like she needs you.

“you make me so fucking crazy. you feel so good, i can’t—“ she says through lazy moans.

“cum inside.” you whisper.

her whole body jerks.

“fuckfuckfuck—”

and then she’s gasping into your neck, hips stuttering, thrusts slowing as she ruts into you with a desperate rhythm. her voice is broken, whispering your name over and over as she grinds through it.

you hold her close, thighs still trembling, breath shallow.

she stays there for a second, still inside you with her forehead to your shoulder. her arms wrapped around your middle like you’re the only real thing in the world.

“you okay?” you whisper.

she nods.

“i needed that.” she breathes, lips against your skin.

“after only four days?” you tease, earning a groan from her.

you smile, all soft and fucked out. “yeah. me too.”

taglist — @saysirhc @m00nqvv @yuyuy90

[northclairo]

STOP THIS IS SO FREAKING CUTE can i be in the taglist pleek

and, fyi, the dsm-5 can only take you so far ⭑.ᐟ yn ln is a sophomore in university , a crappy drummer , and a minimum wage boba shop employee . expecting the worst once again for her third semester , yn's pessimistic world view is shattered upon serving her cutest customer to date ─ meret manon bannerman , a member of katseye , the darling influencer friend group rocking all of social media .

01. guidance counselors must die

written  word  count  :  1.4k

── habituation - a decrease in response rate due to consistent exposure to the same stimulus.

it would be unfair to say that you outright hated the smell of black tea and caramelized sugar, but you're definitely no longer as fond of it as you used to be. you grumble something under your breath while stepping out of moka’s car, and she shoots you a look.

“at least it’s our last time working weekdays,” she clicks her tongue and sucks in a breath through gritted teeth.

she’s right. but at the same time, it’s also your last few days of freedom before syllabus week. sure, you don’t have any classes, but it’s just not the same as being on break. it’s like the knowledge of being in school immediately drains your remaining motivation, which is already teetering on empty. also your hands hurt. BAD. you open and close your left fist, grimacing at the callouses forming where your palm meets your fingers. maybe it’s time to invest in a silent drum set? the wood from your drumsticks is gnawing at your hands, and it’ll only get worse when you start handwriting notes again. you cover your face and groan loudly. moka rolls her eyes at you and slams her door.

“i know,” you finally sigh, stepping out and closing the passenger side door. gently. she yelled at you last time you slammed it. moka's scary when she’s angry. you shove your hands in the pockets of your zip-up. 

your designated chauffeur clicks her keys twice and, with a beep, the locks turn. the pair of you head around to the back of the store. the girl in front of you has an unusual spring in her step.  

“do you have a date after this or something?” 

moka fishes around in her pockets for the store keys as you approach the back door. 

“no,” click. “but we do get our summer bonuses after this shift!” to that moka claps her hands together excitedly and swings the back door open. 

oh. you had forgotten about that. and you’re ready to spend it on more vbucks. or on the new battlepass. you make another mental note to text shinyu and ask if he can run fortnite duos with you later tonight. 

you languidly enter the familiar kitchen and proceed with your routine checks. lights on. chairs off the tables. spotify connected to the speakers. today’s feature: second gen kpop oldies, as per moka’s request. tv switched on, this time to a c-drama recommended to you by yunjin. said she cried at the ending. you’ve been watching it on and off during slow hours. maybe you’re an emotional rock, cause you just can’t get over how annoying the lead couple is. or maybe you’re just gay. moka shuffles out from the employee's only room with a hair tie in her mouth and her hands scrambling to tie her uniform apron behind her back.

“get changed,” she chides, brushing past you as you pretend to check the self service kiosk. 

“mmph,” you hum in response while moka curses and smacks the AC remote against her hand. 

your cubby is just as messy as your room. there’s old assignments, some study guides, and maybe even an essay or two shoved at the bottom, all crumpled under the weight of your backpack. you swipe your apron off its hook without looking and throw it over your head, tying it in a weak knot that you know you’ll have to be fidgeting with throughout the day. 

you bring yourself back to the front of the store to push its glass doors open, checking to see if they actually connect to the magnetic door stoppers you suggested your boss install the other day. and just your luck, they don’t. you blink. then you remember you’re not getting paid enough to care about this. you kick a nearby potted plant in front of the door to hold it in place. 

much to your dismay, there’s already a group of incoming freshmen and their families ogling at the menu board posted outside. 

“you’d think they’d be more concerned with moving in or something,” you huff, grabbing the company mandated cap out from your apron’s front pocket. 

“huh?” moka pops up from under the counter, now leaning against it. you assume she’s checking for extra cups and lids. you guys ran out last weekend. it wasn't pretty.

“there’s people outside already.” 

“great, so get behind the register and make those tips!” she meets your blank stare with a sweet smile.

“...and your total comes out to $24.50, ma’am.” you look up from the screen below you with the shittiest excuse for customer-service-contentment plastered across your face.

you whip around and get to work on what you assume is your hundredth order in the past two and a half hours. if you have to make another matcha latte you might just blow your brains clean out in front of the entire store. you can feel the shared air of agitation surrounding moka, who's now knocking over syrup bottles with her elbow and scrambling to drop a fraction of the drinks amassing at her station into the lid sealing machine. yikes.

“large thai milk tea with boba, medium 3Q milk tea, and a large strawberry green tea with popping boba!” calling out and reading off the ticket placed by the drinks, pushing them toward the group of kids waiting at the pick-up counter, "thank you, and enjoy your drinks!"

in your peripheral, you catch a glimpse of someone new waiting in your order line. 

“can’t have five fucking minutes without something–” you mutter lowly to yourself until your eyes meet hers.

you know all that love at first sight bullshit? yeah well maybe it isn’t actually so bullshit after all. 

standing in front of you is the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen: hair braided in a neat pattern from her hairline to her crown, a long wavy ponytail at her back and down her shoulders, clad in a soccer jersey whose logo you don’t quite recognize. there’s an almost bashful glint in her eyes as she catches your gaze, then quickly fumbles with her phone, and not-so-discreetly peeks back up to see if you’re still looking.

you just stand there, before her, mouth somewhat parted, and now with a rapidly rising heart rate. 

“umm,” she begins, quietly.

and, as quickly as you fell into it, you snap out of your trance. you blink yourself back into reality, feeling a heat spread across your face that reaches all the way to the tips of your ears.

“i’m so sorry, uh, what can i get for you?” fuckfuckfuck.

you swallow with a painstaking amount of effort, given your mouth is drier than that birthday cake minji and niki made for your 18th.

“you’re good, it happens sometimes,” the girl chuckles gently then checks her phone again. she sighs.

“alright so, could i please get a large mango green tea with lychee jelly, a medium brown sugar milk tea with boba, a medium taro milk tea with boba, another large mango green tea but with those little jelly stars, a large classic milk tea with boba, and…” she scans the menu once more as you frantically tap away at the screen in front of you.

“a medium matcha latte with boba? i’m really sorry, i know it’s a lot, i’ll tip you well i promise.”

what a small price to pay to be in the presence of a goddess amongst mortal men. hell, you’d make a thousand more matcha lattes if it meant just seeing her again. 

“no worries it’s…on the house!” your mouth moves before you can even process your own words. also your voice cracked. 

“...oh!” you immediately notice the subtle raise of her eyebrows, the faint widening of her hazel eyes, and the way her lips quirk into a surprised, lopsided smile. you swear your heart is about to pummel its way out from your throat. 

“thank you…?” her gaze drifts to the nametag pinned to the right strap of your apron.

“y-yn.”

“well, thank you, yn.” the mystery girl echos playfully, and with a soft giggle.

you might vomit.

“i’ll–i’ll get those started for you right away!” you turn your back as quickly as humanly possible to avoid embarrassing yourself any further. 

visibly amused, she glances over at moka, who, after smiling politely, promptly joins you and wraps an arm around your neck. 

“i hope you know that’s coming out of your paycheck, lovergirl.” 

a/n 08/06/25 : first chapter done lets fucking gooooo!!! unfortunately though guys my internship does start tomorrow😖😖then my summer classes😞😞😞shaking in my freaking boots BUT ANYWAYS i love u guys thank you for all the support & i hope yall like this one ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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taglist ヾ(•̀ ヮ <)و we are open !! comment to be added

crickets ...

[northclairo]

Take a Sip.

Dani getting her cute fem!best friend drunk.

"Come on, I know you can take more." She rasps, bringing the glass of liquor to your lips— it's cold, almost dizzying. You're drunk, clearly. And the way that Daniela was caressing your thighs made it hard to think.

"I don't know, Dani. Don't think I can." Shaking your head, you try to push her away, but you know Dani wouldn't let it go so easily. "I'm getting really drunk and—"

You feel her fingertips on your chin.

"Look at me, baby." You pry your eyes open, her honey like voice doing something to you. There was something about her tonight, her gaze darkening as she trails her eyes on your feminine figure.

You were cute. Dressed all pretty in her clothes after she had managed to convince you to do a little fashion show for her. She'd flown you from NYC to LA on such a short notice that you didn't exactly have the time to pack clothes but it's okay, you can always borrow clothes from your best friend.

Daniela purposely picked out the skimpiest outfit in her closet for you tonight; a lacey top that barely covered any skin and a cute miniskirt that hugged your hips perfectly. You were a little shy but she assured you that you looked perfect.

Daniela always thought she was straight but you've been messing that up lately. You were too sweet, too kind, too soft— she knew she had to get rid of those feelings now. To experiment.

"Just one more." Daniela uses her looks to sway you, tilting her head. It was a skill she'd perfected throughout the years. She could see the dilemma etched on your face. You weren't exactly much of a drinker, you only ended up in this situation because your best friend needed a drinking buddy and that she would teach you how to drink so no one could take advantage of you.

"For me?"

Hesitantly, you take in the alcohol that she held against your lips, chest heaving ever so gently as the liquid tipped over your lips and dripped down your chin and onto your flushed body.

"Fuck, you're so hot." Daniela breathes, though, you must've thought she was joking as you giggled, soft hands running through your hair.

"Don't joke around like that, Dani."

"I'm not."

"What?" You brush off her claim, laughing awkwardly.

"You're being weird." You reach out to grab a tissue on the table but she stops you.

You paused, wide eyed as Daniela leaned closer to you. The way you looked up at her so innocently with flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes made her heart race. You had such a pretty face. Gently, she brushes her thumb against your lips, glossy with alcohol, and she couldn't believe how soft it felt. "Do you want it, mami?"

You try to pull away but you find yourself nodding weakly to her notions. This was wrong. You knew this was wrong, but those thoughts are quickly brushed away when Dani captures your lips with hers. She laps her tongue against yours messily, savoring your taste. You were so sweet.

You gasp when her fingertips ghost against your thighs. She breaks away from your lips, licking up the string of alcohol spilled on your cleavage. "Mhm, fuck, Dani." You try to push her away, feeling so sensitive to the touch, only to have her free hand wrap around your throat, squeezing threateningly.

"Don't push try to me away, baby." Your panties (the one's that she gifted you) pool with wetness as she unwraps your top like a present. Daniela peppers your chest with wet kisses, making sure to leave marks on spots that were surely to be seen by others. You were her property, after all. She didn't spend all her teenage years shooing boys away from you for no reason. She was your best friend, it was her duty to keep you safe.

Daniela was obsessed with the soft moans that came out of you, she liked how your body temperature felt on hers. Your eyes were fully blown by the time she had to her knees, watching as your pussy dripped with your juices.

Her bigger hands lift your legs, pressing them against your chest. You felt your cheeks flush even more, if that was possible. The sight of you, so exposed and so vulnerable made Daniela unconsciously bite her lips. You were such a cute little thing.

Daniela takes a curious lick on your cunt, groaning at the womanly taste. She eats your pussy so messily, tongue relentlessly bullying your clit, your wetness smeared on her chin. Intoxicated, you grind your hips against her tongue, hands making their way to her curls, pulling her in further.

She whispers words of filth in her native tongue that you don't manage to catch, too buzzed and too high off the pleasure she was giving you to care. "D-Dani!" You cry out, hips bucking as you neared your release, her tongue relentlessly teasing your clit.

"You can cum, baby. Let me taste you." Daniela never breaks eye contact as she eats you, watching as your face contorts to one of ecstasy, pussy squeezing around her tongue.

Your body instinctively twitches when she cleans up your cum, sensitive from your high. "You did so good for me, mami." You sniffle as she leaves kisses on your inner thighs, a tenderness that you were more familiar with. You were a mess— everything was a mess. Your hair, your lips, your pussy, your emotions. Everything was so confusing.

But before you could even ponder about the severity of this situation, of your best friend fucking you, Daniela lifts your legs and places it on her shoulders, a starved look in her siren eyes. "Why don't you give me one more?"

First post into Eyekonville. Hello ladies. My first smut in years so it's a little tame✌️

[northclairo]

my asscheeks were clenched the entire time while reading this

your song, part two

synopsis: after years apart, y/n, now a successful chef running her own restaurant in makati, finds her life briefly interrupted when sophia laforteza, her childhood best friend turned global pop star, returns home.

w/c: 10k+

warnings: swearing, slowburn, angst

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the office couch had never really been meant for sleeping, but the fold-out had done its job. two pillows borrowed from the bar’s storage room, a spare throw blanket pulled from a dusty crate. you turned off the lights around sometime around 11pm but neither of you stopped talking.

the hum of the bar fridge filled the space between stories — sophia’s recounts of rehearsals, early katseye tensions, the first time she cried after a concert when someone in the crowd held up a sign with her name on it.

the two of you had stayed up past midnight. you weren’t sure anymore. the air grew heavy with sleep, but neither of you wanted to go.

you listened, half on your side, chin propped against your arm. you didn’t interrupt much. it was easy to just watch her: eyes lit up in the half-darkness, hair falling over her cheek as she talked and talked, until her words slowed, slurred.

then, just like that, she had fallen asleep next to you, passed out halfway through a sentence about lara who kept eating takis for breakfast. on her side, facing you, her breath soft and uneven like she hadn’t let herself rest in a long time.

you hadn’t really slept. drifted in and out, conscious of her shoulder close to yours, of the faint scent of citrus shampoo and something distinctly hers; familiar in a way that tugged at your stomach. you woke properly around five.

the sun wasn’t up yet, but the street was breathing again, slow and mechanical; the sounds of early vendors pushing carts and mopeds slicing through quiet roads.

you sat up slowly, rubbed your face and padded out into the bar. the tiles were cold against your feet. it grounded you. you brewed the coffee first. hers, not yours. you remembered the way she used to complain when it wasn’t sweet enough, that dramatic gagging sound she would make before calling you a psychopath.

two and a half teaspoons brown sugar, one teaspoon coffee. you made it without thinking - muscle memory.

in the kitchen, you got to work. rice hit the pan with oil, garlic dancing in the heat. you cracked eggs and fried longganisa until the edges crisped and curled. added the chorizo de cebu she always claimed tasted different in manila. you plated it the way she liked: egg yolk whole and shiny, meat slightly charred, a slice of tomato and cucumber on the side like it meant something.

you barely heard her footsteps until she was leaning against the doorframe, hair messy, shirt hanging loose around her collarbones.

“that smells so good,” she croaked out, voice low and rough from sleep.

you turned. “coffee’s on the bar.”

“you’re a dream,” she added, padding over barefoot.

you caught her out of the corner of your eye — how she curled her hands around the mug, how her eyes fluttered shut after the first sip.

and then, like it wasn’t anything at all, she said: “i love you.”

your body locked up inside; heart caught mid-beat, hands suddenly unsure where to rest.

she said it like people say ‘thank you’ or ‘god, this is good coffee’ — easy, half-asleep, automatic. not weighted.

but your brain didn’t care about tone. or context. your brain heard i love you in her voice and it lit up like a fucking traffic accident. she didn’t mean it, she couldn’t have.

still, your stomach twisted with the ghost of what it would’ve felt like if she had. you didn’t say anything. just plated the food and set it down, sliding it across the counter toward her.

she smiled, eyes half-closed, murmured “you spoil me” and dug in. you sat across from her, picked at your own plate, letting the quiet settle again.

no one came in early on sundays. the place was still.

“when are you leaving?” you asked, the words quiet but clear.

she chewed, then shrugged. “i don’t know yet,” she replied, stuffing her face with rice. “i think i want to stay longer…i know i can.”

you looked at her. she didn’t meet your gaze, just sipped her coffee and stared at the far wall like she was still working it out.

“what about you?” she asked.

“don’t work sundays, usually. might visit my family in quezon. bring my lola some empanadas.”

she grinned. “she’ll pretend not to like them.”

“always.”

she toyed with her fork. “i’m filming a brand thing later,” she began to say, then looked up, suddenly hesitant. “but…would you wanna come? or, i don’t know, wait for me so we can go together to quezon?”

you blinked. “come to your shoot?”

“if that’s okay, i can pick you up?”

you nodded. “yeah, of course…pick me up from here.”

her shoulders relaxed. you didn’t know she had been holding tension there.

after breakfast, she helped stack dishes into the tub. she noticed the fresh burn on your forearm; angry and red, skin bubbled from a splash of oil the night before. you tried to cover it but she caught your wrist, gently.

“where’s your first aid kit?”

“it’s gross —”

“it’s not,” she argued. “always looked after your clumsy ass, trust me, i’ve seen worse injuries from you.”

“fine,” you sighed in defeat, pointing towards the white cabinet by the sink. “right over there.”

you watched her disinfect it, cut the gauze, taped it down like she had done it before. her brows drawn, tongue poking out slightly as she focused.

she was always like that — meticulous with care, even when you didn’t deserve it.

you looked down at her hands on yours and felt something press low and quiet in your chest. she was just wrapping the tape when her phone rang.

you pulled your hand back gently. she looked at the screen and sighed. “it’s mum.”

you nodded, stepping back. “take it.”

leaning back, you remained seated on the barstool as she slipped off hers and walked a few steps away, phone pressed to her ear. her voice changed immediately: softer, brighter, familiar in a way that tugged something loose inside your chest. you remembered her talking like that to tita carla on your lola’s rooftop when you were kids, pacing in bare feet, laughing about her day, whole face lighting up like she didn’t know how to dim it.

hearing that tone now…after all this time, felt like being dropped into a version of yourself that hadn’t been folded down yet.

you lowered your gaze to the bandage on your arm. it was neat. clean. it still stung, but much less now and her touch still lingered in your skin.

then, without warning, sophia was holding out the phone as you looked up; her eyes warm, mouth curved in a small smile.

“mum wants to say hi.”

you blinked. “me?”

“yes. smile.”

you took the phone. “hello, tita?”

“anak! y/n!” the joy in her voice was immediate, like nothing had changed. “thank you, ha? for looking after our baby girl last night. she never listens to me. i’ve been telling her to just drop by so you don’t run away.”

ah.

you laughed softly. “it’s nothing, tita. she’s easy to feed.”

“she told me she slept at your restaurant! you poor things, that couch must be awful. but at least you had good food. y/n, i still remember your sinigang — hay nako, my mouth is watering just thinking about it.”

you laughed, could already picture her, barefoot in the kitchen, a towel thrown over one shoulder, probably waving her hand as she spoke.

“you have to come visit,” she continued. “i want to see your mum. bring her! and your lola, if she’s not feeling too suplada. we’ll cook.”

you said yes to everything, laughed when she insisted you come over this week and promised to text her.

when you handed the phone back, sophia groaned and rolled her eyes. “she said the driver’s already outside.”

you tried to smile, but it faltered. there was something unspoken on her face, stretched thin beneath her usual calm. she didn’t want to leave. that much was obvious.

the same way you didn’t want to be the one she had to leave from. you both stood in silence for a few seconds, neither making the first move.

then she reached for her jacket and followed you through the kitchen. the staff room was still dim, quiet in that particular sunday morning way like the place knew the chaos had already passed.

the hallway to the back door felt longer than usual as you held it open for her.

the sun was out now, high enough to warm the concrete. the maroon suv was parked just beyond the alley’s end, hazard lights blinking softly. the driver stepped out and nodded once, expression unreadable.

sophia adjusted the strap on her bag but didn’t move.

you stood beside her, not sure what else to do. it felt like if you said anything, it would undo whatever peace had formed between you over breakfast. perhaps even over the night itself.

she turned to you just as the driver opened the back door. “can i ask you something you might not answer?”

you tilted your head. “what is it?”

her eyes searched yours for a second longer than they needed to. “did you ever think about us? where would we be if i hadn’t left?”

the question landed low and deep, like a stone dropping into still water.

you looked down, then back at her. something in you cracked open, gently. you looked at her properly, throat tightening. she was looking at you intensely. “…in what way, piya?”

she shook her head, not unkindly. “you know what i mean.”

your heart beat in your ears, hands suddenly feeling like they didn’t belong to you. and still, you held her gaze.

“yeah,” you admitted. “i did.”

she nodded once like she had always hoped you would say that. you didn’t say anything else. neither did she.

then she got in the car.

you stood there until it turned the corner and disappeared from view.

something old had shifted. you could feel it.

whether that was good or dangerous, you didn’t know yet but it had a name.

and it was hers.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

twenty years ago

your lola had a way of dragging you into places you didn’t belong. she said it was character-building; that brushing shoulders with the rich might remind you to stand taller, even if your slippers were patched with thread and your shirt was two sizes too big.

you were five, tired and annoyed that sunday was being stolen from you again.

“just behave,” she warned as you stood outside the gates of a house too big to be real. “and don’t touch anything.”

you kept your hands locked behind your back.

forbes park was a place you only heard about in passing: on the jeepney, in the sari-sari store, from the mouths of women who folded laundry while daydreaming out loud. mansions with proper gates and real grass, where drivers waited in parked cars and mothers had help just to hold umbrellas. your lola knew sophia’s lolo from a church thing, you didn’t know the details.

all you knew was that your school shoes still had dried mud on them and that you didn’t want to be here.

the front door opened before your lola even rang the bell. someone must’ve been watching; the housekeeper smiled and told you both to come in. your slippers squeaked against the polished floor as you followed your lola like a shadow, trying not to look at the paintings on the wall, or the glass table you were sure would shatter if you breathed too hard.

“there she is,” someone said. a voice that didn’t rush, but didn’t slow down either.

you turned.

a girl with two high ponytails and a missing front tooth was skipping down the stairs like she owned gravity. she was wearing a sundress with tiny sunflowers and had one sock up and one sock missing entirely. bright-eyed, messy, loud.

you liked her immediately…hated that you did.

“this is y/n,” your lola introduced you, nudging you forward. “say hello to piya, anak.”

“hi,” you mumbled, eyes darting to the floor.

“i’m sophia,” the girl said, walking straight up to you without hesitation. she didn’t offer a hand. she grabbed yours instead, sticky and warm from holding a half-eaten popsicle. “do you like jollibee?”

you nodded, unsure.

“my dad bought spaghetti and chickenjoy,” her grin widened. “come, we’ll eat in my room.”

you looked back at your lola for assurance, she waved you on, already being ushered to the dining area by sophia’s mother.

her room was the size of your whole house. there were shelves filled with dolls still in their boxes and a tv that actually had cable. she dragged you to the floor, offering you her jollibee spaghetti first, then pushing a plate of fries toward you like it was a peace treaty.

you ate slowly; she talked non-stop.

about how her driver always gets lost, how she’s going to be famous one day, how she wants to live in new york because they have squirrels.

you had no idea what squirrels were but you nodded anyway.

and somewhere in between her talking about her dog, peanut, and showing you how she can do a cartwheel (badly), she said:

“let’s be friends forever.”

like it was the most normal thing to promise a stranger.

you stared at her, sauce still clinging to your lips, unsure if you were supposed to say it back.

but you said it anyway.

“okay.”

because deep down, even then, some part of you already knew: if anyone could make you believe in forever, it was none other than sophia laforteza.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the studio was chaos in that specific, almost theatrical way, like someone had tried to contain a cyclone inside four white walls and called it fashion. flashes cracked in quick bursts, overlapping instructions flew across the room: hold that, chin up, yes, that’s it, softer; and assistants weaved through the mess. makeup brushes tapped against palettes, someone was yelling about missing palettes and the speakers blasted a remix of a song you half-recognised but couldn’t place.

everything smelled like hairspray and coffee and nerves.

sophia walked in with easy posture, nodding at familiar faces, flashing the kind of half-smile that made people move aside.

she held your wrist briefly, pulling you a step closer towards her. “i won’t be long,” she murmured. “just…stay close to me, yeah?”

you nodded, gave her a faint smile. “i’ll be here.”

there was nowhere to go, really, so you didn’t move far. there were clusters of people, all of whom looked like they were already doing something important. you stood near a light stand, arms crossed lightly over your chest, eyes scanning the room.

it was overwhelming, but in that detached way - like watching a party from behind a window. you kept to the edges, tried to blend in, maybe even failed a little.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you didn’t check it. instead, you watched sophia disappear behind the makeup screen, already mid-conversation with a stylist. she tossed a quick glance back at you, smiling for just a second and you smiled back; felt something stupid and warm settle under your skin.

“bini girls!” someone yelled. “maloi, aiah let’s go.”

you didn’t expect the shoot to involve them but when one of the stylists called out names, you heard it clearly.

your brain definitely short-circuited for a moment as you tried to keep your cool. lowkey fan didn’t even cover it: you watched their dance practice videos like they were stress therapy, recommended lagi to aira during the slow month last year.

and now they were here: in the same room, wearing crocs and no makeup and carrying iced americanos like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“come here, y/n,” sophia pulled you out of your starstruck trance, voice carrying across the noise.

you nodded once, stepping around the cables carefully and stood beside her.

the makeup artist — small-framed, sharp-browed, probably could kill with a single brush stroke, grinned as you settled in. “so, you’re the mystery guest?”

you laughed once, shaking your head. “just moral support.”

her eyes flicked up at you in the mirror and she smiled a little too quickly.

“she keeps looking for you,” he added, dabbing blush across her cheek. “i thought you were her girlfriend or something.”

“we’re not,” you answered, voice steady despite feeling awkward. “just old friends.”

“ahhh, old friends,” the artist echoed, mock-suspicious. “sure.”

sophia was grinning now, eyes shut while her eyeliner got cleaned up. “he’s always like this, ignore him.”

“don’t ‘stop’ me. you haven’t taken your eyes off her since she walked in.”

you looked down at your hands, heart thudding, pretending to focus on a bracelet you weren’t wearing.

“she’s shy,” she added, tone teasing.

you kicked her lightly under the table.

you stayed like that for a while, talking about nothing and teased each other back and forth. you kept nudging her foot with yours under the makeup chair, the moment felt light, like something you could get used to.

eventually, the stylist gestured you to move so they could get her dressed. you stood, backed off with a quiet “good luck,” and wandered toward the far end of the studio, near the coffee table cluttered with water bottles, oat milk and half-eaten croissants.

you turned to your side and there they were.

“you’re the chef, right?” maloi asked, eyes wide and a little warm. “the one from concave?”

you blinked. “hmm, yeah, that’s me.”

she grinned. “your sisig got a write-up in spot.ph, didn’t it? i’ve had it bookmarked for months. oh, i’m maloi and this is aiah.”

you felt your mouth twist into something shy. “i’m y/n, and that was more chef kristoff’s doing. but thanks.”

“maloi wants to be fed all the time,” aiah mumbled, smiling from beside her. “she saw your name on the guest sheet and hasn’t shut up about you possibly bringing a meal for the crew.”

“i did not,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

you held your hands up. “i’m flattered. really. next time, i will though.”

they were easy to talk to: normal. maloi was quick-witted, had a dry sense of humour that matched yours better than it should’ve. she teased you about bigger proportions. you told her a boy group’s sound engineer had once tried to book a table under a fake name and still got recognised by chef aira.

aiah leaned in slightly, curious. “how do you and sophia know each other?”

“we grew up together,” you replied, crossing your arms. “we’ve known each other since we were five; her lolo knows my lola.”

there was a tug in your chest as the words left your mouth — how easily the past rolled off your tongue, how strange it felt to say grew up instead of have always been…as if the closeness belonged in past tense now.

“that’s kind of sweet,” maloi said. “and now she’s this huge star and you’re —”

“a tired chef with second-degree burns and a restaurant with an aggressive rice cooker,” you offered.

“still sounds cooler than us,” aiah laughed.

you smiled and deflected, asking about their shoot instead and maloi lit up describing it; how the concept was loose, that their manager still hadn’t picked final outfits.

aiah nodded along, interjecting now and then with dry humour. it helped that maloi had that kind of energy — disarming, quick to laugh, easy to match. you found yourself leaning into the conversation, even joking a little, answering their questions without filtering too much.

from across the room, you could feel her gaze.

sophia saw the way you stood; more open now. your hands loose in your pockets and laughing effortlessly. she caught the way maloi leaned toward you slightly when she spoke, saw the little smile you gave aiah after a joke.

her stomach turned…not violently, but just enough to feel it.

when your eyes met hers, her hair was pinned back and her expression unreadable. she looked…irritated. or maybe not that. she wasn’t talking to anyone; just watching you.

when she finally joined the other two for the shoot, the difference was immediate. she flipped back into performer mode so fast it made you feel like you were watching someone else entirely. her posture shifted. her face reset.

the camera loved her. and still, your eyes didn’t leave her.

she looked unreal, as if she lit from the inside, almost. every time she turned her head, your chest seized up a little. the sound of the shutter seemed to match your pulse.

at the end of it, the four of you gathered near the props table, sharing snacks and wiping off the stickiness of set lighting.

“so,” maloi began. “what do you feed her to make her skin glow like that?”

you chuckled. “sinigang. three-day-old reheated kind; the secret is neglect.”

aiah laughed with you. “we’ll take two.”

sophia didn’t smile, not really. she nudged a biscuit around on a napkin. when maloi turned to offer her a joke, sophia grinned, but her tone shifted.

you noticed the change immediately. the way she looked at you without really looking.

“you okay?” you asked her under your breath.

“fine,” she mumbled, eyes flicking back toward the food.

she was still friendly to the others; complimenting aiah’s earrings, laughing at something maloi said about posing like a tita at a reunion, but when she spoke to you again, it was clipped.

the conversation kept rolling, but you felt the dip in temperature. the little shift. you caught the way sophia kept talking to the other girls, laughing more now, but not looking your way.

you didn’t say anything. not until the goodbyes were done and you had promised everyone a free table at concave.

the drive back was slow, caught in the usual saturday night crawl along edsa, headlights flickering through rain-streaked windows.

the city was winding down, but the car wasn’t quiet in a peaceful way. it was the kind of quiet that pressed into your chest, made you conscious of every breath you took, of the space between your leg and hers.

sophia had barely said a word since you left the studio, just scrolled through her phone in silence; screen lighting her face in bursts.

you glanced at her briefly. she refused to look your way. hadn’t, since earlier. “you good?”

“what did you think of maloi?” she deflected your question, voice too casual to be casual.

you blinked, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. “she’s great,” you answered, keeping your voice even. “really easy to talk to — just like aiah.”

there was a beat of silence and then she gave a little huff, almost a scoff. “yeah, both seem like your type.”

you frowned, turning your head to face her properly. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing.”

“you’re literally saying it means something,” you frowned, trying not to let your tone rise. “you brought maloi up.”

“i just noticed you two were getting along,” she replied, still not meeting your eye. “it’s not a crime.”

you exhaled through your nose, felt the burn of frustration settle in your throat. “you jealous or something?”

that made her laugh, dry and small. “of course not, why would i be?”

“don’t know, piya. you’re acting weird and short.”

she finally turned to you then. her expression was unreadable, but her jaw was tense. “you were different with her.”

you stared at her. “i was polite.”

“you were smiling and laughing and she was inching closer to you every single time.”

“am i not allowed to laugh around other people now?” you asked, tiredness creeping into your voice. “she made a joke. i laughed. you know what that’s like, right?”

she didn’t respond. she just looked away again, out the window, fingers twitching against her thigh.

you leaned your head back against the seat, stared up at the roof of the car like it could anchor you. you weren’t sure why this felt so loaded; why it mattered so much to her.

and yet — her words kept needling at you. the sharpness of her tone tucked under the soft. it made your chest ache in ways you had tried to outgrow.

“are you seriously upset about her?” you added, trying not to sound defensive, but already failing.

“no,” she said, too fast.

you turned your body slightly toward her, fingers curling into your thigh. “you are. you’re acting so cold.”

she scoffed under her breath. “i’m not.”

“okay,” you murmured, eyes narrowing as you turned back to the window. “right.”

the tension thickened. there was a time when you knew exactly how to reach her, how to read her mood with one glance, a shift in her jaw, a clipped breath. but now…after all these years; she felt like a puzzle you only half-remembered how to solve.

“it’s just…” she started, then trailed off.

you waited, nothing came. “just what, soph?”

she inhaled slowly, still refusing to look at you. “you don’t even realise when someone’s flirting with you. it’s kind of frustrating.”

you bit back a laugh, not because it was funny, but because it caught you off guard. “my god, it wasn’t flirting. we were literally at a coffee station talking about my restaurant.”

“sure,” she muttered.

“maloi has a boyfriend.”

“doesn’t make it any better.”

you sighed, long and low, before leaning back into the seat and closing your eyes for a beat. “this is ridiculous.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

you turned to look at her again, and this time, her eyes met yours. sharp and tired. there was something else behind them too: something raw, maybe even a little embarrassed.

you remembered that look: she used to wear it when you were kids, whenever she said something she didn’t mean and didn’t know how to take it back.

she would get defensive, go quiet, pick at her fingernails. you saw all of that now, right in front of you, like nothing had changed.

you turned your head slowly to look at her. her eyes were down now, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, fingers playing with the frayed hem of her sleeve.

the silence this time was worse.

so you reached out without thinking. your hand found hers, warm and unsure in your palm. then you slid it over gently, placed it on top of hers the way you used to when you were kids. a quiet offering. a wordless ‘tahan na’ in the middle of everything that wouldn’t come out right.

she froze, breath hitching.

you didn’t look at her but you kept your eyes on your joined hands, the way her fingers curled slightly under yours, like they remembered.

“i’m sorry,” she spoke after a while, voice lower now. “i didn’t mean to get weird. i just…”

“i know.”

the streets rolled by outside, a slow blur of taillights and neon. and in the dimness of the car, something shifted back into place.

perhaps, you could both live with this thing between you, whatever it was. even if neither of you had the words for it yet.

you kept your hand there the rest of the ride. and she didn’t let go.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

tonight, concave belonged to people who knew how to take their time. you had forgotten how warm a restaurant could feel when it wasn’t just a job, when the air wasn’t heavy with orders and wait times and burnt pots.

the long table had been set earlier in the afternoon under low-hanging lights strung along the ceiling beams, soft shadows stretched across white linen and mismatched cutlery. there were extra chairs lined up just in case someone brought someone else last minute.

sophia and diana had planned it all; something about old friends and new chapters. you didn’t argue, just happy to cook.

in the bar, yohan looked more alive than he had all week. he stood behind the counter like it was his stage, lazily tossing lemons in the air while aira’s portable speaker blared old r&b. a playlist from the group chat titled “for the soul.”

one of the katseye girls, lara, maybe, was already perched on a stool with a glass of something bright and citrusy, her laugh carrying over to the kitchen.

yohan still couldn’t look at her.

in the kitchen, it was hell but the good kind. you were sweating through your shirt, wrists sore from all the chopping and ladling. the air was thick with the smell of sinigang, tamarind sharp in your nose and somewhere behind you, liempo sizzled against hot grill bars. herbs and spices clung to the counters and lumpia oil popped loudly in the corner fryer.

someone’s empty beer bottle clinked on the prep table, probably kristoff’s. he and leo were hovering near the turon like they hadn’t eaten in weeks and aira kept swatting their hands away with a spatula.

you stirred the sinigang, tasted it quickly off the back of the ladle and added a little more fish sauce. everything else could burn as long as the broth hit the right spot.

then, through the steam and haze, she appeared.

sophia…black dress, hair down, neckline low. she looked like she didn’t belong in this kind of heat; like the sweat, the fish sauce, the clatter of a dozen moving parts couldn’t touch her. she walked in quietly, barefoot now, heels probably left under the table. you didn’t notice her at first, not until she stood beside you and reached for the paper towel roll, tearing a piece off in one slow motion.

“you’re drenched,” she murmured and gently dabbed your forehead. “you’re gonna get sick if you don’t wipe it off - let me wipe your back.”

“what?”

your hand stopped mid-stir, her touch was soft. too soft. her fingers near your hairline, warm and clean and steady. you didn’t look at her. you couldn’t, not when your chest had just betrayed you by clenching up so fast.

she rolled her eyes. “lift the back of your shirt up.”

“i can do it,” you insisted, reaching for more paper towels but her hand stopped you. “piya…”

“what? you’re suddenly too grown for me to do it?” she clicked her tongue as she shook her head, lifting your shirt up to dab paper towels on your back. “now, wasn’t so hard hey?”

“ayieeeee!” kristoff’s voice cracked through the kitchen like a slap. followed by laughter, loud and terrible and echoing. you heard the clang of something dropped.

you finally turned your head, saw her smiling. lips pressed together like she was trying not to make it worse.

“ignore them,” she said, handing you the scrunched-up towel.

you blinked. “this is a kitchen. you can’t be in here with your untied hair.”

“then hurry up and feed us so i can be soft somewhere else, chef.”

you snorted, eyes darting toward the sinigang pot again, your pulse still uneven. “just sit back and wait for the best meal of your life.”

“always is,” she chuckled and walked out.

the second the door swung closed behind her, aira’s panic returned at full volume.

“oh my god,” she whisper-yelled, pacing near the fryer. “i cannot do this. that was sophia laforteza. she was here, again, in this kitchen. and now we have to plate food for her. and for katseye. literal katseye members!”

leo, ever useless, dramatically picked up a serving tray and bowed like a butler. “madam manon, may i present your steaming hot garlic rice and humble peasant lumpia.”

kristoff followed suit. “miss yoonchae, your turon awaits on a bed of banana leaf — harvested from davao’s finest plantation.”

she looked like she might faint; pale-faced and terrified. “can you both shut the fuck up? i’m having a crisis.”

“just act normal,” you muttered, laughing as you wiped your hands on your apron. “they’re regular people.”

“regular people with millions of followers and abs sculpted by the divine.”

“aira, breathe,” leo said, flinging a turon piece into his mouth. “you’re sweating more than the sinigang and y/n.”

before she could throw something at him, diana’s voice called from the hallway. “babe, where’s the leche flan?”

kristoff looked up, startled; he wore the face of someone who knew he fucked up. “uhhh, i thought i heard you say you were taking it.”

“excuse me?” she leaned halfway into the kitchen, fully done up in a green satin dress and gold hoops that caught the light. “do you think i’m stupid? i clearly remember our conversation, stop gaslighting me!”

he put his hands up in defeat. “you told me you had it covered. i asked! remember? i said, ‘babe, do i need to grab the leche flan from the fridge’ and you said ‘no, it’s sorted.’ sorted! those were your words.”

“don’t you try to gaslight me, kristoff, you fucking had one job,” she groaned in frustration. “next thing i know, it’s going to be our kids you’ll be forgetting to pick up.”

their back-and-forth spiralled quickly into a domestic episode while the rest of you watched in muted horror and amusement. you shook your head, heart full. it shouldn’t have felt this easy, but it did.

this kitchen, the mess, the arguing, the way diana rolled her eyes at kristoff like she has been doing it since she was fourteen; it reminded you of afternoons when you were still in high school, squeezing into godfrey’s car with takeaway wrappers at your feet and anthony’s guitar neck digging into your ribs.

it was all of you, all together again…for the first time in years. and this time, no one was leaving. not yet.

when the food finally made its way out, it spread across the long table like a painting you didn’t know you were capable of. it was almost overwhelming.

banana leaves ran the length of the wooden table, their glossy green catching the candlelight. the sinigang sat in clay pots at both ends, the steam curling in lazy spirals. grilled liempo, slightly charred and glistening, was laid across the centre beside the golden lumpia, fresh from the fryer.

small ceramic bowls of spicy patis and vinegar, each one glowing with floating chillies, were scattered in between. garlic rice was heaped into giant mounds and turon drizzled with coconut caramel waited for their moment.

it wasn’t exactly a traditional boodle fight; there were plates and forks involved, people here were too pretty and too moisturised for the usual rules — but it had the same spirit.

loud, messy, communal.

and the drinks didn’t stop. yohan was on his 20th shaker (had to be), pouring cocktails into anything that could hold liquid. beers clinked aira was screaming about how her eyeliner hadn’t even smudged despite all the oil she had inhaled and kyle turned the speaker louder.

you had barely sat down when a hand tugged you into a space between manon and lara.

“chef,” lara grinned, already halfway through her plate, “this sinigang is life-changing. like…actually life-changing. i think i saw god.”

you laughed awkwardly, trying not to trip over your chair. “it’s just sinigang.”

“just?” she gasped, turning to sophia with mock betrayal. “you never told me she was this good. baby, you’re lucky.”

sophia only raised her cocktail and gave her a look that didn’t say much, but it didn’t need to.

manon tilted her head at you, eyes sharp but not unkind. “did you train abroad?”

“uh — no,” you said, swallowing the sudden nervous tightness in your throat. “i studied here. ust.”

“classic,” she nodded in approval. “it’s always the ones who stay home who get it right.”

megan nudged daniela, chewing on a lumpia. “we’ve been following concave for a while. sophia talks about it so much, i had to see what the hype was. it’s unreal.”

your heart did a stupid skip. you tried to downplay it with a small nod. “i didn’t know she…talked about it that much.”

“yes! she showed me photos of the recent tasting menu like it was her baby.”

you glanced at sophia across the table. she was eating quietly, smiling to herself.

“so,” daniela piped up, chopsticks in hand, “are you always this quiet? or just because our sophia’s here?”

you choked on your beer, coughed once. “no, i — i mean yes. i mean…i’m just bad with new people.”

lara snorted into her rice. “you’re doing fine.”

yoonchae had been sitting across, quiet but observant, smiled softly and said, “can i help clear plates later?”

you shook your head. “no, no, just enjoy.”

“okay,” she replied, still smiling. “but really…are you single?”

your laugh came out caught somewhere between real and choked. “uhh, yeah.”

megan sipped her cocktail. “so is sophia.”

sophia rolled her eyes, but said nothing. manon threw her head back. “can you get a girlfriend already?” she said to her. “someone who cooks like this, preferably.”

lara leaned in again. “you two have real chemistry; just saying.”

“y/n’s only ever emotionally available for sophia,” leo laughed when you glared at him. “it’ll work.”

you wanted to slide under the table and disappear. your hands and chest were hot. even your knees felt like they’d been caught in a lie.

it was surreal, the way they all just made room for you. these women, so famous they didn’t need surnames, so beautiful it hurt to look at them sometimes. but they weren’t difficult. not at all intimidating once the food hit the table. they teased and asked questions and passed plates around like they had known you longer than an hour.

it was easy in a way that surprised you.

“so kyle,” diana was saying. “you’re going back on the ships?”

“as soon as that damn contract gets finalised,” he sighed, picking at the liempo. “they’ve been dragging it out, but i miss the ocean and getting paid to disappear.”

aira clinked her fork against his plate. “you miss not paying rent to your brother.”

“same thing.”

somewhere down the table, kristoff was explaining how he proposed by hiding the ring in diana’s karaoke mic. aira had everyone wheezing with her rant about her ‘stupid’ boyfriend who refused to learn how to use gcash.

then, just when the buzz had started to mellow into comfort, anthony leaned back in his chair, a smirk curling at his lips. “let me tell you girls something —” he pointed his fork between you and sophia. “— we all used to think these two would end up together.”

sophia’s face went red, ducking behind her glass like it could save her from god.

you glared at him, face burning. “here we go.“

“what? we did!” he declared. “ask diana.”

the way sophia looked now, pretending not to hear. you knew what he meant. and it wasn’t the first time someone had said it, but it was the first time it made you ache.

“best friends,” you corrected, eyes fixed on your drink but something shifted. it hit you with more force than you expected, a note played too loud in an otherwise gentle song.

did you think about it? of course you did. sometimes in the quiet and in your dreams.

and maybe even in all the things you never dared say.

kyle added. “nah, y/n was a wreck after you left, soph. she crashed out hard. wasn’t herself for a while.”

you groaned, already reaching for the turon. “i’m fine now.”

“she really wasn’t,” diana agreed. “barely spoke.”

sophia turned to you, pouty. she rubbed your back in slow circles. “i’m here now.”

you nodded, avoiding her eyes. “it was a long time ago.”

but it didn’t feel that way, not tonight.

by the time the meal was over, the night had softened into something else, more subdued. the drinks had been flowing for hours and most plates were empty or licked clean.

katseye had to fly back to los angeles in the morning, but sophia wasn’t going. she said it casually over dessert, told the girls she extended her stay by a week…just like that.

megan hugged you first. “thanks for dinner, chef,” she whispered. “she really likes being here.”

lara kissed your cheek. “take care of her, yeah?”

daniela gave you a once-over. “you’re kind of cool once you loosen up.”

manon just nodded and said, “we’ll come back. sooner than later.”

“please make sure you feed her,” yoonchae hugged you quietly, arms warm and light. “she forgets sometimes.”

you stood beside sophia as they climbed into their car, waving through the window, their hair slightly tousled from the manila humidity. they were loud even as the door shut. then the engine started and they were gone.

it wasn’t dramatic. no confessions, no big moment. just that strange, terrifying feeling of something unspoken.

something that never really left.

and then, of course, anthony had to ruin it. “more red horse for you lovebirds, eh?”

you groaned. “please shut up.”

but you were smiling. god help you, you were smiling.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

anthony was on his second bottle of red horse, red in the face and singing like he was on a stage somewhere deep in quezon. slightly swaying as the soft strum of bawat piyesa by munimuni crackled out from yohan’s old bluetooth speaker.

“to y/n and sophia,” he announced grandly, almost falling off his chair as he lifted his redhorse to raise a toast.

“stupid drunk,” you mumbled next to sophia.

she looked at you, grinning. “and you’re a sleepy one.”

god, you could get used to this.

the melody was tender, almost too tender for the thick beer haze they were all swimming in, but no one said a word. beside him, leo joined in, eyes half-closed as if it helped him find the right note.

you were humming gently to the rhythm, seated back in your chair, bottle cold in your hand. your head felt warm; tipsy. sophia kept stealing glances at you, that stupid fond expression on her face every time you accidentally caught her looking.

there was too much noise, too much singing, too much beer — but none of it felt overwhelming. just pretty fucking good.

and sophia…god, she was laughing like she hadn’t done it in years, hand to her chest, head tilted back slightly. she leaned toward you, brushing shoulders and that warmth lingered even after she shifted back.

kristoff had left with diana earlier, his arm slung over her shoulder as she threatened to make him sleep on the couch in hushed frustration. out the front, kyle and yohan were sharing a cigarette, their murmurs leaking through the gaps in the doors.

and aira, bless her, was still circling the table with her phone, snapping blurry photos of you and sophia together.

“for the kitchen wall,” she insisted before taking another shot from the worst angle possible.

you didn’t notice when sophia got up, only when she stood beside you, hand brushing the top of your shoulder. “come with me?” she asked.

you blinked. “what, now?”

“yeah,” her tone was softer than her laugh, careful. “just for a bit.”

no one said anything when you pushed your chair back. aira gave you a little wink, but you ignored it. sophia was already walking ahead, down the short path that led out to the side, the gravel crunching beneath her flats. you followed, the night shifting around you like the tide pulling back.

makati had stilled outside the roads were empty. someone’s tv was playing faintly in a nearby building, and the warm glow of the corner streetlight bled across the side steps of the restaurant.

it had cooled too. your cheeks were warm from the drink but the air was crisp, a reminder that it was well past midnight and the city had gone to bed.

there was a tree just beside the gate; old, overgrown and knotted in the middle like it had something to say. she looked back at you, then sat down on the low concrete edge. her hair was a little windswept, long dark strands catching in the breezeand the light hit her in a way that made her eyes seem darker, more open.

straight out of a magazine.

you hovered awkwardly until she patted the space beside her.

“just wanted to be alone with you for a bit,” she said quietly. you sat, not too close, your knees angled away from hers. the concrete was still warm from the day. she looked at you for a second, then murmured, “closer.”

you shifted, barely a few inches, but it was enough.

there wasn’t a rush to speak. silence settled easily. you listened to it, the crickets somewhere in the dark, the occasional honk from a jeep turning a corner blocks away. you looked sideways — she had her chin tilted up, staring at the leaves above her like she was waiting for the words to arrive there first.

then sophia turned to you, voice quieter. “do you remember the letter i mentioned?”

you nodded slowly.

“i wrote everything,” she continued. “poured it all out. what you meant to me. what i wished i’d said sooner. but there was a condition…i wrote that if you didn’t feel the same, then just pretend it never happened. don’t bring it up, don’t respond. i didn’t want to lose you completely and make it awkward.”

you turned to her. “what do you mean?”

she looked back at you then, properly. the lights from concave filtered across her face, a faint gold around her lashes.

she let out a breath that felt like it had been held for years. “i wrote that i was in love with you.”

your stomach dropped. for a moment, everything else vanished. the music, the beer, the laughter inside. you were a kid again, watching her through a window at the airport, your heart in your throat.

you swallowed, mouth dry. “sophia…”

“i didn’t consider you getting robbed,” she laughed weakly. “god, of all days. of course it would happen on the day i tried to say something real.”

“i didn’t know,” you began, almost to yourself, and your voice came out smaller than you meant.

“it was my fault,” she whisper, almost laughing, but there was no humour in it. “of course you didn’t. i didn’t even tell you i wrote anything before i left.”

you didn’t know what to say. all the moments rushed back — when you held her hand under the stars, how she brought gifts to your lola’s house, hugged you for too long and never said why.

“did you?” she asked. “feel the same?”

you turned to her, really looked. her eyes were glassy but open. ready.

“yeah,” you admitted, like weight off your shoulders. “i always have. maybe not in a loud way. but it was there. loving you felt like…breathing — didn’t have to think about it. it was enough for me just to see you happy.”

she blinked hard. then looked away, like it hurt to hear. “and now?”

you breathed in slow. “i don’t know, i’m still figuring it out.”

she nodded like she understood. she wasn’t expecting anything from you, not yet.

you looked at her, properly this time. “what are we doing?”

she let the question hang there, just for a second. “i don’t know either, i just know i like being near you. i like knowing who you are now. and i’m really glad i came back…even if it’s just for a little while.”

you weren’t sure who reached first, but your fingers found each other again, her thumb rubbing circles on your skin.

then, she leaned against your shoulder; the same way she used to when her mum picked her up late from dance class and she was too tired to speak.

you closed your eyes for a second, let the silence wrap around both of you. the streetlight buzzed overhead, someone inside laughed too loudly.

and still, the world outside held still for just a bit longer.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the laforteza family parties had always been loud. they weren’t wild in the traditional sense, but they carried a kind of well-fed chaos — every table heavy with food, every tita’s voice louder than necessary, every cousin appearing out of nowhere like they never left.

it had been held at their private residence in forbes park, a manicured lawn and a stone path lined with garden lights that looked like they were imported from europe.

you and sophia had arrived together in her manager’s van, sophia fixing her hair in the mirror while you adjusted the sleeve of the button-down she swore looked good on you. you hadn’t argued. you rarely did…not when she looked at you like that.

when she leaned over to get a taste of the mango float on your plate, her perfume brushed past you. vanilla and jasmine. something soft and expensive.

“you okay?” she asked, voice easy.

you nodded, giving her a small smile. “just nervous.”

she reached over and squeezed your hand, if only she knew how you could barely breathe whenever she did that. “you’ll be fine; they know and love you.”

and for a while, it felt like that might be true.

but somewhere between entering the gate and the fourth glass of wine being passed around, sophia got swept away. old friends, mostly from high school. the girls she cheered with; the boys whose names made her laugh in a way that said history.

you sat there, close enough to be part of the scene but distant enough to be forgotten by it. the chatter blurred into a high-pitched hum, broken by bursts of laughter you weren’t part of.

your plate stayed empty longer than it should’ve. you picked at the lumpia and finished your drink too quickly.

when you glanced over to the gazebo area, sophia was already standing alone with leon. they looked like a still from a glossy magazine, it was almost unfair how photogenic they were.

the sound of distant karaoke buzzed softly from a backroom. you were left in a sea of relatives and strangers, your name forgotten halfway through most introductions. you sat with godfrey and tita carla after a while, just to give your hands something to do — stirring the condensation on your glass of lemon, lime & bitters with a paper straw.

“how’s your mum doing, hija?” carla asked kindly, adjusting the pearls on her wrist. “she still makes your baon?”

you smiled politely. “every day. even if i say no. she’ll guilt trip me with her arthritis.”

godfrey laughed. “same old, huh.”

“same old,” you echoed, nodding.

the conversation drifted easily enough. he asked about concave. you gave him numbers — soft ones. told him about the new bookings for next week, how you were thinking of repainting the kitchen wall. he nodded, but you caught the way his eyes flicked towards your face, like he was measuring your answers against something else.

something quieter.

because you weren’t really there, not entirely. your eyes kept returning to the centre of the garden. sophia was with leon again, crouched by the sangria station, talking to a group of their old classmates.

leon handed her a glass and she laughed at something he said; head thrown back, hand brushing his arm as if by accident. the titas nearby were already whispering loud enough for you to hear.

“ay, they really look good together.”

“those two should — leon is a great guy.”

your ears started ringing, heard the soft clatter of a spoon fall into a bowl behind you.

they looked like a story that had kept going, even when you weren’t there to see it. there was ease in how they stood close and comfort in how the people around them saw them. and you?

you were just the friend she brought.

you forced a smile at godfrey’s next question — something about restaurant rent and local suppliers but your voice didn’t come. it stuck in your throat like something you had forgotten to chew. so you excused yourself instead; something about getting a refill.

the kitchen was quieter and the air smelled like grilled eggplant and sugar syrup. you poured yourself water, trying to cool down whatever you were feeling inside.

that’s when you heard it — muffled but clear. a girl’s voice, drifting from the hallway by the pantry. “…they tried dating after high school, right? i remember that. leon was so in love, i thought they would end up together.”

another voice chimed in, giggling. “same, they made such a good couple. it was such a bummer when it didn’t work — wait, didn’t sophia bring someone else to the party?”

“oh, that’s just her childhood friend; the chef from concave.”

you stood there with the glass half-full in your hand, staring at the tiles. something small curled and collapsed inside your chest and you felt it break without sound.

you didn’t know why that hurt more.

maybe you were always going to be the friend from childhood. the one who cooked, who people said kind things about, not the one people chose.

you were never going to belong in that world, either. it wasn’t about being intimidated; it was more about knowing you were the type of person who left parties early because small talk wore you out, who bought secondhand clothes, who used to split rent with four housemates and who grew up thinking happiness was only real when it was earned.

you walked out the side gate, didn’t say goodbye. but you barely made it to the end of the driveway when godfrey caught up.

“y/n,” he called out, breath caught between steps. “hey, what’s going on?”

you turned, tried to smile. “i’m just tired, tito. that’s all.”

he frowned, looked like he wanted to say more. but he didn’t stop you…just gave a small nod, one of those slow, uncertain ones men like him reserved for things they didn’t quite understand.

that night, your phone buzzed five, six, seven times. all her.

sophia: where are you?

sophia: are you okay?

sophia: please just tell me you’re safe.

you stared at the screen in your room, face lit blue by the light. you were in your worn out clothes now — your old high school shirt and some loose shorts. you kept the lights off and listened to the fridge hum.

told yourself to breathe through it but your chest wouldn’t settle.

because it wasn’t just about leon.

it was how easily she could forget you.

how easy it was for her to float through this world where everything was soft, familiar, and waiting…and how foreign it all still felt to you. you, who had to work for everything. still counted coins when the month stretched too long, didn’t wear sundresses or get handed glasses of sangria by boys that everyone liked.

your world was different; always had been. it worked when you were kids — barefoot and dreaming.

but now? she belonged to a different one. and maybe loving her was always going to feel like this. like almost and not enough.

you didn’t cry that night even though you thought you would. maybe the weight of it would crack somewhere soft inside your chest, but it didn’t. it just sat there, dull and unmoving, like a stone wedged into the lining of your ribs.

there was a dull ache in your lower back and a dry taste on your tongue when you woke up the next morning. it was barely seven. your phone was still off. you didn’t turn it back on; didn’t want to.

you didn’t want to see her name on your lock screen or read a paragraph that might explain things too late or worse: make you want to forgive her for something you couldn’t even name.

concave didn’t have you that day; you called aira and told her to run the kitchen. she joked that she was ready to burn the sinigang but her voice softened when she asked if you were okay. you said you were fine and she didn’t believe you, but she let it go.

you watered your plants, played the same bon iver record three times in a row, took a bath with the lights off. everything felt somehow muted like heartbreak repackaged into daily routine.

by mid-afternoon, the phone rang. the landline, surprisingly. it was your mum.

“anak,” she greeted, gently. “sophia came here. are you two okay?”

your stomach pulled in on itself. “what?”

“this morning. she looked like she hadn’t slept. said she just wanted to talk to you, but you weren’t answering any of her calls.”

you didn’t say anything.

“i didn’t ask questions. but she was holding something. a box of gifts, i think. and flowers. oh, and she gave me a really expensive chanel perfume and your lola a new set of china plates…that girl.”

you rubbed your eyes, felt that strange tightness creeping into your throat. “that’s good, ma, but what did you tell her?”

“that i don’t know where you are, even if i did. that if she really wants to talk, she should wait until you’re ready to listen.”

there was a long pause. you swallowed it down. “thanks, ma.”

“you okay?”

“not really.”

“you want me to cook?”

“maybe not.”

the day passed quietly. you cleaned your fridge out, cried for five minutes while slicing onions and threw out a tupperware that had gone grey. you almost turned your phone on at sunset; your thumb hovering over the button like it weighed more than your entire arm.

but you didn’t.

because the truth was, you didn’t know what would hurt more; knowing she meant everything or realising she didn’t know how to hold you when it counted.

and wasn’t that the thing about her?

sophia could light up a room, charm a crowd, make you feel like the only person on earth when she looked at you. but sometimes, when the lights dimmed and the music stopped, she forgot where she left you standing.

and you were tired of being forgotten.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the hours blurred together in the kitchen, one dish after another, the rhythm of prep and plating the only thing you could stand to follow. you had stopped replying days ago.

not just to the messages. to everything. to the world, really.

sophia had come by twice already this week. three, if you counted the morning yohan swore he saw her waiting outside in sunglasses and a jacket like a celebrity hiding from a scandal.

each time, you made them tell her you weren’t there.

“she asked if we could just tell you she stopped by,” leo muttered yesterday, drying spoons while stealing glances at you.

you didn’t reply, kept your head down, slicing eggplants into even strips until your fingers went numb from the chill of the cool room.

and today — today was the day she was leaving. you were aware for three days now since you started counting it down. plus, she had texted: intramuros. today. 11am. please just come. i don’t know what i did but i really miss you.

you didn’t answer.

instead, you buried yourself in prep. you had taken two 14-hour shifts back to back. didn’t let yourself sit for more than ten minutes at a time. it was easier, in here. surrounded by the steam of broth and the snap of fresh chillies hitting oil. it was was easy to convince yourself that numbness could pass for peace.

but everyone knew something was off.

you were talking less; the jokes you usually cracked over boiling sinigang broth had dried up. the sarcasm, the sharp but harmless way you used to scold the boys, gone. there was just you, hunched over the chopping board, sleeves rolled up, knife dancing across red onions like you were trying to make them cry first.

across the kitchen, kristoff watched you. you didn’t see it, but leo noticed him about to speak and shook his head. no.

aira, standing next to him, wiped her hands and mouthed go.

so he went.

“how long are you gonna do this?” he asked, leaning against the prep table with arms crossed, eyes calm but fixed. “she called diana. for the fourth time. asking if you’re okay, asking what she did. or if you hate her.”

you didn’t stop chopping. “i don’t hate her.”

“then what the fuck is this?”

you shrugged, feeling the heat crawl up your neck. not from the stove.

kristoff’s voice softened. “she’s leaving today, y/n.”

you placed the knife down and looked at him. “it’s better this way.”

“for who?”

you didn’t have an answer for that. or perhaps you did, but you were too tired to give it voice.

“you haven’t even responded to her last message, have you?” he continued. “the one she sent about today?”

your silence was enough of an answer.

he sighed, pushed off the table. “you don’t have to explain anything to me. but maybe you should ask yourself why you’re so afraid to see her. is it her? or is it you?”

then he left you there, the smell of chopped onions clinging to your hands, eyes stinging even though you hadn’t cried.

he quickly turned around, scoffing. “she came by again. yesterday, asking if you’d be in. you know what i said?”

you looked up at him.

“that you’re the most stubborn person i’ve ever met. and that if you didn’t get your shit together soon, you would end up losing something that could’ve been really fucking good.”

the kitchen fell quiet. even aira stopped pretending to sort cutlery. no one moved.

you didn’t say anything. you couldn’t. you kept hearing sophia’s voice in that last message.

your mind was spinning toward a future you couldn’t see clearly. five years from now. would you still be here, running the same station, pretending you hadn’t let something important slip through your fingers again? would sophia be in los angeles, too far gone to reach, too famous to touch?

you stared at the cutting board like it held answers. it didn’t. the thought of seeing her…having to explain that quiet ache sitting behind your ribs; it made you feel hollow.

not long after, you were snapped out of your trance by aira, who tapped your arm lightly.

“we need to tweak the ube recipe,” she began, a clipboard in hand. “thinking we should thicken the syrup? add edible flowers to the dish? for aesthetics?”

“sure,” you looked up, eyes glazed, and caught the clock above the fridge.

10:16 am.

a sudden jolt of panic pushed up your throat like bile. sophia. she would be waiting right now. maybe standing in the middle of intramuros, checking her phone every few seconds, hoping.

stupidly hoping.

your chest tightened.

without saying a word, you wiped your hands on your apron, untied it and tossed it onto the nearest hook.

kristoff looked up from the sink as you passed him on the way out. “where are you going?”

“to see her,” you replied, already halfway to the back door.

“finally,” he muttered under his breath.

aira just beamed, softly said: “go get your girl!”

the sky was greying by the time you made it out to the street. rain was threatening to fall but not quite yet. your steps were quick, head low, the jeepney ride from makati to manila a blur of dust and diesel and every reason you have ever had for leaving things unsaid.

you held onto the rail tightly as the jeep lurched over potholes. every time your phone buzzed in your pocket, your stomach clenched.

you didn’t check.

because your heart was in your mouth. you hated yourself for this; for running out in the middle of lunch, for possibly being too late, for the fact that a part of you still wanted her to be there.

but more than anything, you hated that you couldn’t keep her out. not really…even now, even still, you were chasing the same hope that always broke you.

you just wanted to see her.

if only for a moment.

if only to say goodbye.

if only to stop wondering what could’ve been.

what if this is it: what if this is the last time?

your heart thudded hard in your chest. you tried to slow it down. reminded yourself of the facts: she was leaving, she always going to leave. it was her thing now. planes, performances, exits. you could never follow.

but still, she asked to see you. begged. please.

you owed her that.

you owed yourself that.

the rain started halfway through buendia, light enough to blur the glass but heavy enough to make the roads smell like dust and wet pavement. you wiped your palms against your jeans and counted the stops. your stomach felt tight, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

intramuros felt further than ever.

you had to…see her one last time, properly. not like the last time; where her voice was buried under laughter that wasn’t meant for you. you deserved a goodbye that didn’t feel like punishment. and maybe, probably, she deserved one too.

the streets of intramuros were slick with rain, cobblestones reflecting dim morning light that slipped through the low clouds. a few umbrellas dotted the plaza, mostly locals moving slowly, already resigned to the weather. the drizzle had started soft but steady, soaking through your hoodie as you stepped off the jeepney, heart thudding against your ribs like it didn’t want to be there.

you spotted her instantly.

sophia, sat on one of the stone benches just by the fountain, her head bent low like she wasn’t sure how long she could keep waiting. you paused, let yourself watch her for a second, like you haven’t in days. she looked tired, drenched in something heavier than just the weather, and still so unfairly beautiful that it ached.

you didn’t say anything as you approached. your shoes hit puddles with dull slaps. the sky was all steel above. sophia looked up and blinked, startled, then immediately stood.

you walked closer but didn’t reach for her. she stepped forward and hugged you tightly, arms wrapping around your shoulders like a reflex. damp warmth, all clove perfume and the shape of someone who had once been almost yours.

her voice was right at your ear. “can you talk to me, please?”

when she pulled back, her brows furrowed. she tried to catch your eyes, but you wouldn’t give them to her.

“why won’t you look at me?” she ask, stepping away. “why won’t you look at me, y/n?”

you stayed quiet. then her hands came up, cupping your face — not softly, just desperate. “do i mean nothing to you now?”

that hit you in the chest. not because it was true, but because it wasn’t. the truth was she meant too much, too deeply.

you finally looked her in the eye. and she flinched like she saw something in your expression that hurt her more than silence.

“say something,” she continued, voice cracking. thunder rolled somewhere in the distance and she flinched again, eyes darting to the clouds before coming back to you. “please.”

your gaze dropped to the cobblestone beneath your feet, blurred now with the beginnings of rainfall. “i’m sorry,” you said quietly. “for disappearing. it was just…easier.”

“easier?”

her eyes were so brown it almost hurt to look at; so filled with all the things you didn’t know how to hold.

you cleared your throat as she waited for you to continue. “there’s always going to be someone better for you,” you murmured. “someone who can give you the world.”

her brows pulled together, eyes narrowing. “why do you always do this?” her voice cracked. “why do you always make that choice for me?”

“because it’s true.”

“you’re a fucking coward.”

you flinched.

“you think pushing me away makes you noble?” she asked, frustration crawling out of her voice. “you think it makes you selfless? you’re just scared. scared of letting someone love you.”

you looked away again, watching the rain start to pepper the stone around you.

“we should leave. it’s about to come down harder,” you said, already trying to step back. “we should say our goodbyes.”

she laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and shaking. “you’re unbelievable,” her eyes were glassy now. “you think this was just some sweet reunion for me? a little nostalgia? god — y/n, i have been in love with you for years. and i thought maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way.”

your stomach dropped.

she continued, each word landing heavy.

“i can’t meet anyone else without thinking about you. i can’t even look at someone for longer than a minute without worrying if you’ll think i’ve moved on,” she took a shaky breath, tears pooling now. “because part of me is always waiting…just waiting for you to see me. really see me. and not push me away.”

she stepped closer.

“i love you,” she confessed, her voice softer. “and you don’t even have the decency to look me in the eye and say anything.”

the words repeated inside your head: i love you. but what good does love ever do?

she shoved you, lightly, like the words weren’t enough to carry the weight. “say something.”

your hands found her face before your mind caught up, warm skin under wet fingertips. her cheeks flushed with cold and hurt and heartbreak. her tears were silent now, mixing with the rain as it began to fall heavier.

you held her gently.

you told her not to look back.

“find someone who can give you the things i can’t,” you answered, voice softer now. “go chase your dreams. you’re more than this. more than me; there’s someone who’s not afraid of how much they love you.”

but sophia only looked at you, soaked now, cheeks slick, jaw clenched like she was trying not to break in half. she shook her head, wet hair flying. “fuck, y/n.”

“i’ve always been okay just loving you quietly. you don’t have to give me anything, piya.”

“i want to,” she cried. “i love you. i choose you. why can’t you just — why can’t you choose me too?”

“i’m scared,” you whispered.

“i am too,” she shot back. “but i’m here.”

you shook your head. “you’ll leave again. your life’s out there, soph. not here.”

“then i’ll come back,” her voice was rising now. “again and again and again if that’s what it takes, but you keep pushing me away like i don’t matter!”

you stared at her, voice hollow. “you matter too much.”

“then tell me, why can’t you choose me?”

you swallowed. “because one day you won’t choose me back and i don’t know if i can survive that.”

you didn’t know what else to say - your mind was a spiral of everything you ever wanted and all the reasons you told yourself you didn’t deserve it. your thoughts kept folding in on themselves: memories of childhood, of her hand in yours, of the letter you never got to read, of the years you spent loving her quietly and alone.

she stepped back, rain dripping from her lashes.

“you think i forgot you when leon was around?” she snapped. “do you really think i ever looked at anyone the way i look at you?”

you didn’t answer.

“i was never with him. we tried once, years ago. it didn’t work because he wasn’t you.”

“but it’s so easy for you,” you mumbled, chest tight. “to laugh with him. to disappear into that world. i don’t belong there, i never did. you and i both know that.”

she stared at you like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. then something shifted in her face — something cracked.

she clenched her jaw, her eyes flashed. and she stepped forward.

you turned away. and that was when she grabbed you. fists balled in your shirt, mouth trembling, voice raw: “why won’t you let me love you?”

then she slammed her lips against yours.

it was angry and messy and soaked through with years of almosts. her lips collided into yours like a storm as everything she hadn’t said was stored in her mouth and now you were finally allowed to taste it.

your hands found her waist, pulling her in, your body betraying every fear you had ever held. her hands cupped your face again like she needed to hold you steady.

if she didn’t, she would fall apart.

you felt everything all at once: how long she had waited, how much she had wanted, how deeply she was willing to ache just to be loved by you.

and you hadn’t kissed anyone like that before. not in your entire life.

when you finally pulled apart, breathless, soaked, the air thick with everything unsaid…you didn’t know what to say.

the rain slowed into a drizzle, the kind that lingered like fog on your skin, soft and silver under the overcast light. you hadn’t let go of her yet, neither had she. your fingers were still curled around the hem of her hoodie, her forehead pressed against yours. every part of her was damp and trembling, but warm in the places where your bodies met.

you could still feel the echo of her kiss; bruised and tender and honest.

she exhaled against your lips like it hurt to breathe without touching you. “i have a flight tonight,” she began, voice low and careful, as if saying it too loud might shatter the moment between you.

your stomach turned at the thought. not because she was leaving — because she might not come back.

but then she cupped your jaw again, steady this time, her thumb brushing the edge of your cheekbone. “but before i go, i need to know something.”

you stared at her, giving you the look she always used to give: certain and full of questions. it had never left, just grown quieter over the years.

“do i still have something to come home to?” she asked, not blinking. “to you?”

your mouth parted, but nothing came out. it took a breath, then another. your thoughts scrambled around all the reasons you had built up to keep her out: the distance, the history, the fear, the ache that never quite stopped.

but she was here. and suddenly, all of it felt so small compared to this.

you nodded, slowly at first, then with certainty. “yeah,” you said, voice breaking just enough to be real. “yeah, you do.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end (for now)

[northclairo]

NOOOO I NEED MORE PELADEEELEADEPLEASEPLEASE

i can feel death, see its beady eyes | sophia laforteza

⁍ song: street spirit (fade out) - radiohead ⁍ requested: yes! thank you anon. i had 'vamphia' requested a few times. ⁍ genre: twilight au. slowburn! fluff, angst. vampire!sophia, telepath!sophia, good old 'i can read everyone but you'. ⁍ a/n: this is part one. this fic is set in 2004 around the time of the first movie. ⁍ w.c: 26k ⁍ warnings: suggestions of abuse, mentions of blood, death, illness. ⁍ synopsis:

y/n swore that forks froze over the day she left. when she returned in 2004 six years later after a death in the family brings her back, she realized that nothing had changed. same old fog, same faces, same silence tucked between the trees. at least, that was until she met sophia laforteza. beautiful, aloof, and strangely out of place in the cold little town. when sophia offered to help fix up her brothers car, she soon realized she was in for more than she bargained for.

part one

the first thing you noticed when you crossed into forks was how nothing had changed. not the color of the sky, not the lean of the trees, not even the way the mist hung low like it had been waiting just for you. it was exactly as you remembered. quiet, gray, and so infuriatingly unchanged, like the town had held its breath the moment you left and never bothered to exhale.

the four hour greyhound ride down from tacoma was slow. the bus rattled over uneven roads, dipping and climbing with the rhythm of old pavement, its engine humming low beneath the muted conversations that flared up and faded at every stop. olympia, aberdeen, port angeles. places you hadn’t visited since you were thirteen.

you stayed silent the whole time, pressed into a window seat halfway back, earplugs in, radiohead on loop. street spirit played again and again until the bitter edge of it started to gnaw at your nerves, its irony not lost on you as it dragged you deeper into your own head. by the fifteenth repeat it was less a song and more a weight, something that clung to your hoodie like the fog waiting for you in forks. thick and familiar and impossible to shake.

the air was thick with mist that clung to everything like memory, curling around the moss covered trees and soaking into the cracked sidewalks. the sky, an endless stretch of gray, pressed low against the treetops as if trying to fold the town in on itself. winter in forks was not just a season but a mood that settled into your bones, slow and unshakable, the kind of cold that didn’t bite so much as seep. rain drizzled endlessly, not dramatic enough to be noticed but constant enough to matter. it filled potholes and dripped from the eaves of houses that all seemed to slump a little under the weight of the damp. passing by the familiar ‘welcome to forks’ sign, you couldn’t help but be reminded of a particularly wet winter in ninety-four. you were ten, and your older brother was sixteen. one moment you were both sitting in the living room of the old family house watching rugrats, the next your father cursed loud enough to shatter the quiet enjoyment when he slipped on a patch of ice outside the window. the violent man milked his fall for as long as he could before his frustrations brought a sour taste to your mouth. a taste which, unavoidably, resurfaced the very minute his old face flashed into your memory.

you shook your head, chest exhaling deep as you pushed his face to the deepest parts of your mind. 

tacoma had a rhythm to its cold, something you could brace against and forget once you stepped indoors. the first winter you spent in the shabby tacoma apartment you’d call home for five years with your brother was bleak. the first thing he did after graduating was hightail it out of forks. he’d finally reached his limit with your father’s violence and dragged you away, unwilling to leave you behind to face a man who drowned himself in cans of budweiser and cared more about friday night football than his own children. it wasn’t a choice he wanted to make, but it was the only way out. your brother’s quiet strength was the only warmth you had that winter, a fragile hope that things might change. and it did. it got better. you were happy. for all of the five years you were away from forks, you not once found yourself wishing you could go back.

alas, the universe was cruel.

the one year anniversary of your brother's death was spent in pained silence two weeks before you finally had the courage to pack up and leave tacoma. he was only twenty-four. the news hit you hard. it didn’t make any sense. he was young, healthy. one moment he was there, laughing. alive. the next, he was gone. he left behind a silence so loud it swallowed everything else. the days that followed blurred together, each one heavier than the last and filled with questions that had no answers. 

jaehyun was the first to reach out. without hesitation, he offered you a place to stay, a lifeline you desperately needed. with nothing left holding you where you were, you packed your bags and followed him back to forks. the very town you thought you had left behind but was waiting to pull you back in.

low and behold, the very second you stepped off the greyhound, jaehyun’s face was the first thing you saw. he was standing just beyond the bus doors, arms crossed over his chest, a familiar silhouette in the fog heavy forks air. before your feet even touched the pavement, he was already moving, striding forward with the same urgency you remembered from the summers when he and your brother used to drag you out of bed before noon for gas station slushies. his hug hit like a freight train. tight, grounding, and way too fast for you to brace for. he didn’t say anything at first, just squeezed you until your shoulders unclenched, until your fingers remembered how to hold on.

“you look like hell,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to get a good look at you.

“thanks,” you deadpanned, voice rough from the ride.

he grinned, the same crooked grin that hadn’t changed since high school. he looked older, sure. broader in the shoulders, a little sharper in the jaw. but the warmth behind his eyes hadn’t gone anywhere.

he was wearing the standard forks police uniform, same khaki and green getup you briefly remembered adorning chief swan. heavy duty jacket with the department patch on the sleeve, utility belt clipped tight around his waist, boots already damp with roadside slush. his name tag was crooked, and he had one of those old county issued radios clipped to his shoulder, static crackling faintly through it.

you’d seen a lot of uniforms over the years, but somehow jaehyun made his look like it didn’t quite fit. like it was a costume he put on for the sake of the town, but not something he’d ever let define him.

“you still riding around in that death trap?” you asked, nodding toward the cruiser parked half up on the curb.

“death trap’s got a new engine,” jaehyun said, giving the hood a quick pat as you both moved toward the cruiser. at some point he swiped your bags right off your shoulder, slinging them over his own like it was nothing. before you could protest, he popped open the back door and tossed them in with a practiced ease.

“still drives like she did back in the day. louder, maybe. more attitude.” he paused, then glanced over his shoulder. “oh! before i forget…”

he ducked halfway into the back seat, rummaging through an old duffel crammed between worn jackets and loose paperwork. when he turned back, there was something in his hands. a small box. square, wrapped in faded violet paper that looked like it’d been folded and re-folded more than once. a thin, almost apologetic bow sat crooked on top, like someone had tried their best and still didn’t get it quite right.

his expression softened as he held it out to you. it was a real smile, one of the rare ones he didn’t give away easily. but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. not all the way. there was something behind it. careful, perhaps.

“happy eighteenth, y/n,” he said. “he would’ve wanted you to have it.”

you didn’t need to ask who he was. you knew he meant your brother. the wince on his face was enough to tell you that not even jaehyun could say his name aloud after all this time.

you took the box with both hands, slow, like it might break. the paper crackled faintly as you peeled it open, and there it was. a keychain. old and a little beat up, the kind of thing you almost forget about until it’s back in your hands. shaped like a guitar pick, cool and worn, with a name engraved on one side. not his full name. just the nickname only a few people ever used. you were one of them. 

he used to keep it clipped to his backpack. the same one he took everywhere, even when he had nothing to carry. you remembered it bouncing against the zipper while he walked ahead of you, never looking back but always slowing just enough so you could catch up.

you curled your fingers around it. the metal was cold. familiar. heavy in a way that had nothing to do with weight. you pressed your thumb against the engraving and swallowed hard.

you tightened your grip on the box, thumb brushing over the corner, and forced your jaw to relax. no tears. not now. maybe not ever. still, your voice came out quiet. steadier than you expected.

“thank you, jae.”

he didn’t say anything. just gave a small nod and closed the door behind you as you settled into the passenger seat. he said nothing as you carefully slipped the keychain back into the box and delicately placed it inside your jacket pocket. the unspoken understanding between you was clearer than any words could convey.

the drive through forks was quiet, broken only by the rhythmic swish of windshield wipers and the soft crackle of the police radio. jaehyun didn’t say much, and you didn’t mind. he knew better than to fill the silence just for the sake of it. the town drifted by in slow, familiar pieces. the same old diner you used to eat at after games on fridays, the same mom-and-pop shops you once upon a time frequented for free candy. you leaned your forehead against the cool window and watched the trees blur by, their limbs black against the silver fog. 

it was almost hard to believe you were eighteen now. legally an adult. whatever that meant. you didn’t feel like one. not really. you were supposed to be starting your senior year, figuring out prom and college applications and how to parallel park. instead, you were starting over in a town you’d promised yourself you’d never come back to. at a school where everyone already knew each other, jo less, where the halls would echo with names and memories you had no part in.

daunting didn’t even begin to cover it.

as jaehyun turned off the main road, the neighborhood started to shift. not quite suburban, not quite rural. houses here were spaced out, modest but sturdy, each one set against a backdrop of thick woods. you could tell who had lived here a while by the moss creeping up their fences, the way the driveways dipped under too much rain. and then, finally, you pulled up to a familiar old house.

jaehyun’s place used to be his parents’. it sat quiet on a cul-de-sac near the edge of town, a two story with weathered blue siding and a front porch that had seen better days. behind the house, the woods pressed in close. or at least, close enough to blur the edge between backyard and forest. it wasn’t quite the middle of nowhere, but it wasn’t far off either.

it looked almost exactly the same as you remembered. you’d been here plenty of times as a kid, back when your brother and jaehyun would drag you along for movie nights or last minute barbecues. you remembered sitting on the porch with a popsicle that melted too fast and being chased by mosquitoes just before dark. those memories came back slowly, soft edged and grainy like old photos.

jaehyun parked at the end of the short gravel driveway and cut the engine. the cruiser settled with a quiet creak.

“still standing,” he said, glancing over at you with a small grin. “barely.”

you opened the door and stepped out. the air was colder here, cleaner somehow. it smelled like wet pine and old leaves. your boots crunched against the gravel as you wrapped yourself tighter into your coat, the box in your pocket pressing faintly into your side. you paused before heading up the porch steps, jaehyun close behind after fetching your bags from the backseat. the house stared back at you like it had been waiting. not welcoming, not cold. just… there. unchanged. unbothered by everything that had happened in the years between.

you shifted your weight and looked up at the second floor window. the light inside was off. but you knew, without even asking, that was where you’d be staying.

home. at least for now.

‎ 

it didn’t take long to unpack. most of what you brought from tacoma could fit into two bags. clothes, a few books, the essentials. of all the things your brother had accumulated over the years, you could only find it within yourself to keep the most valuable. the couch was auctioned, the tv sold. the rest were pieces of him. the things you couldn’t leave behind, even if you barely had the strength to carry them.

his old hoodie, the one you were wearing now, smelled faintly like cedar and fabric softener, though it was probably just your memory filling in the gaps. the sleeves were a little too long, the hem fraying, but you kept your hands tucked into the front pocket anyway.

you’d wrapped his graduation photo in a layer of towels and sealed it in a padded box. not because the glass was fragile, you’d dropped it once before and it didn’t even crack, but because looking at his face for more than a few seconds made your chest ache in a way that didn’t go away with breathing. he was eighteen in that picture. alive with possibility. a crooked grin and a tassel barely hanging on. it hurt in all the quiet ways.

you left it in your new room, flipped down inside the drawer.

by the time you wandered downstairs, the sun was gone. the air inside jaehyun’s house was warm and dimly lit, the kind of cozy that came from low watt bulbs and aging furniture. the walls were still that familiar shade of off-white, and the floor creaked in the same two spots it always had. some things hadn’t changed.

the kitchen was open to the dining room, separated only by a worn breakfast bar stacked with unopened mail. the smell of something savory lingered in the air. garlic, maybe, and soy. the overhead light hummed softly.

jaehyun stood by the stove in a gray long sleeve and faded sweats, his sleeves pushed up past his elbows. his badge and uniform were gone, replaced by something more real. he looked like someone who had finally taken the weight off for the day.

“figured you’d come down eventually,” he said without looking up, stirring something in a pan.

“figured you’d drag me down by the ear. why not do the job for you?” you replied, your voice even.

he grinned at that, then nodded toward the table. “grab a seat. it’s nothing fancy.”

you sat at the small square table near the window. he’d already set it. two plates, two forks, and a pair of mismatched glasses half filled with water. a football game played low on the tv in the next room, all muffled crowd noise and bright commentary. probably the seahawks. neither of you were watching.

he slid a steaming plate in front of you. stir fried noodles, a fried egg on top, and more seasoning than necessary. but it smelled good. comforting, even.

“you cook now?” you asked, eyebrow raised.

“don’t sound so shocked.”

“i’m not. just trying to picture you grocery shopping.”

“i do it in uniform,” he said, deadpan. “people don’t cut in line when you’ve got a gun.”

you let out a quiet laugh, more breath than sound. he cracked another grin before sitting across from you, digging into his own plate.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the forks clinked softly against the ceramic, and the rain started up again outside. steady and slow, like it wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere. the house was quiet in a way only houses on the edge of woods can be, like the silence belonged to the trees outside.

“thanks for dinner,” you said eventually, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

jaehyun looked up and gave a small nod. “anytime.”

you leaned back in your chair, thumb absently brushing the frayed cuff of the hoodie. his hoodie.

“you still sleep with the tv on?” you asked, glancing toward the living room.

“only during football season,” he said.

“that’s year round.”

he shrugged. “convenient for me, then.”

you snorted, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like a performance. just something real. instinctive. the sound of muscle memory sparking back to life.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence after that, the kind that didn’t ask for conversation, just presence. the kind that came with old friendship and heavier years. jaehyun didn’t push. maybe he figured you’d talk when you were ready. maybe he just knew better than to rush a moment like this. still, he couldn’t help himself. after a few beats, he hummed quietly, setting his fork down with a soft clink.

“you remember that old truck your brother used to drive?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, one hand curling around his water glass. “the piece of shit with the busted tail light and the paint peeling off like sunburn?”

you looked up, expression deadpan. “you mean the one that got impounded after he drifted it into the back of your dad’s cruiser?”

jaehyun let out a short, sharp laugh, shoulders shaking. “yeah. that one.”

you smirked. “he tried to lie about it, said the road was iced over.”

“in june,” jaehyun added, grinning. “pops wasn’t buying it. i swear, i thought he was gonna strangle your brother right there. then shoot me for standing too close.”

“i’m surprised he didn’t.”

“same.” he exhaled through his nose, the smile still lingering but pulled thin around the edges. “you call my cruiser a death trap, but man, that truck was something else. your brother loved it, though. wouldn’t shut up about the ‘engine personality’ like it was some kind of misunderstood animal.”

you nodded faintly, the memory flickering. you could still hear the way your brother used to curse under his breath when it stalled at stop signs. how he’d slap the steering wheel twice before trying again, like that would make it cooperate. like the truck just needed encouragement. 

you could also remember how upset he was when he had to leave it behind. 

jaehyun leaned forward, elbows resting on the edge of the table, fingers tapping a loose rhythm. “pops still talks about that day, believe it or not. every now and then, something will set him off. football on mute, an old car commercial. and suddenly he’s right back there, ranting about liability and teenage dumbasses.”

you raised an eyebrow. “does he still think you were a bad influence?”

jaehyun gave you a pointed look. “i was a saint. your brother was the problem.”

you huffed, amused, then watched as his expression shifted. softened. his gaze dropped to the table.

“funny thing is,” he said, voice quieter now, “pops gets all fired up like it just happened, like he’s still trying to figure out how we didn’t burn down half the town. but sometimes he forgets why he’s even telling the story. just trails off. like the ending got too heavy to hold.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, almost absently, as if trying to ground himself. “guess i do that too. forget. or try to. but then it comes back in these weird little ways. something someone says, a smell, a stupid commercial. and suddenly there he is. like no time’s passed.”

his thumb tapped once against the edge of his glass. then again.

you didn’t say anything right away. there wasn’t much that needed to be said. it hung between you. not silence, but shared weight. the kind of grief that doesn’t roar. it lingers. it waits.

you reached for your glass, took a slow sip, then met his eyes.

“you never really forget,” you said simply. “you just learn how to carry it.”

jaehyun gave a small nod. 

another beat of silence passed before this time, it was your turn to ask a question. 

“why did you invite me to stay with you?” 

jaehyun didn’t answer right away. he glanced at you then down at his plate, like the question had caught him off guard. not because he didn’t have an answer, but because he hadn’t expected you to ask.

“you’re serious?” he said after a moment, like he wasn’t sure if you were messing with him.

you didn’t blink. “dead serious.”

he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms loosely over his chest as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. perhaps it was. “because you’re like a sister to me, y/n. always have been. since you were that tiny little rugrat sneaking into the room when me and your brother were trying to play doom in peace.”

you smiled faintly at the memory, but stayed silent. 

“you were the annoying tagalong. the loudmouth with popsicle stains and scraped knees who always wanted to prove she could hang,” he continued, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “but then somewhere along the way, you just… became family.”

his smile didn’t hold long. it dropped, slow but sure, like something giving way under too much weight.

“i couldn’t just sit back after he—” jaehyun paused, jaw working for a second. “after everything.”

you knew who he meant. he didn’t need to say it. your brother had been everything to both of you. his best friend. your entire world.

“he would’ve done the same for me,” jaehyun added, quieter now. “hell, probably faster. wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

you watched him for a second, the way his fingers fidgeted slightly against his arm, the way his gaze stayed fixed somewhere past the table like if he looked at you it might hurt too much. not because he pitied you. but because he missed him too.

“i love you, kid,” he said finally, voice steady but raw at the edges. “you’re all i’ve got left of him.”

you didn’t flinch. didn’t look away. you just nodded, once, slow.

maybe you should’ve said it back. maybe you should’ve leveled his emotional admission with one of your own. but truth be told, you didn’t know how. so you asked the next question that came to mind. 

“why’d you ask about the car?”

he knew how you felt all the same without the words needing to be said. 

“right. that,” he said, like he was just remembering. “so. i’ve got some news.”

you raised a brow. “good news?”

“depends who you ask,” he said. “i made some calls at work today. one of the guys from the rez got back to me a couple hours ago.”

your curiosity perked. you sat forward a little.

“and?”

“they’ve got it,” jaehyun said, tapping a knuckle lightly on the table. “the truck. your brother’s. turns out it’s been sitting in a junk lot just past la push this whole time.”

your eyes widened before you could stop them.

“seriously?”

he nodded, and there was something soft in his expression. carefully buried, but there. “yep. beat to hell, but still in one piece. mostly.”

you couldn’t help the breath that escaped your chest. a laugh, almost. incredulous. the thought of that old, rumbling piece of junk still existing was… absurd.

“that’s amazing.”

“glad you think so,” jaehyun said, pushing back his chair and standing up with his plate in hand. “’cause it’s yours now.”

you blinked. “what?”

“already paid for it,” he said over his shoulder as he walked to the sink. “well, not much to pay, but still. just gotta go down and sign the salvage paperwork. they’ll hand over the keys.”

you stared at him. “you’re kidding.”

“nope.”

he started rinsing off the plate, voice casual. “figured you might want to see it one more time before they gutted it for parts. maybe even keep it. fix it up, if you’ve got the stomach for it.”

“jaehyun…”

he waved you off with the flick of a dish towel, not bothering to turn around. “don’t make it weird. i just thought—hell, i don’t know. maybe it’s stupid. maybe it means nothing. but when i heard it was still out there, i couldn’t stop thinking about the two of you riding around in that thing like you owned the world.”

he turned back toward you then. not quite meeting your eyes. “it felt like… something worth keeping.”

you stood quietly, fingers curled against the edge of the table. no words rose to meet his. not right away. so you crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him instead.

it wasn’t dramatic. it wasn’t tearful. it was quiet, like everything else had been that night. just arms around him, forehead against his shoulder, breath steady.

he froze for half a second, then let out a breath and hugged you back. his hand came up to pat the back of your head like it was instinct.

“it’s really not a big deal,” he mumbled, voice a little rougher now. “it’s a shitty old truck, y/n.”

“i know,” you murmured.

but neither of you moved. not yet.

it wasn’t about the truck. not really. you both knew that. it was about memory, and the pieces of him still left scattered in the world.

jaehyun, quietly, made sure you got to keep one.

__

when you woke up on monday morning, the last thing you expected was to be embarrassed within the point-zero-two seconds you stepped on highschool soil. it was another cold, rainy day and jaehyun offered to drive you. you knew better than to say no. the last thing you needed was to walk through the downpour until you were waterlogged to the bone, or ride the bus and deal with the shenanigans of seniors you had no interest in meeting. though perhaps you should’ve rethought your decision. 

jaehyun’s cruiser rolled into the school parking lot with all the subtlety of a small town parade. he flicked the siren once, a sharp, obnoxious whoop reverberating through the lot. he leaned across the seat to grin stupidly at you through the open passenger window, watching the way you  halfheartedly got out of the car with a low groan. 

“seriously?” you said, not even bothering to look at him.

“just marking the grand return,” he said, all teeth. “gotta let the people know a local legend’s back.”

“you’re annoying,” you muttered, slinging your bag over one shoulder. “maybe i should file a complaint. ‘police officer harasses student on school grounds’. thoughts?”

“have fun at school, kid. don’t do drugs,” he called, pointedly ignoring your latter comment. he laughed and pulled away before you could say anything else, tires crunching over wet gravel as the cruiser left the parking lot. 

you didn’t rush. didn’t flinch. you adjusted your bag, shoved your hands into your coat pockets, and walked toward the high school doors with a small roll of your eyes.

as much as you wanted to play it cool and avoid embarrassing yourself any more than jaehyun already had, it was hard to ignore the few stares aimed your way. especially from the group standing in the far corner of the lot beside a silver volvo and a black bmw convertible. when you glanced over, just for a second, they were already gone.

"i’m going crazy already," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with one hand before finally stepping into the high school foyer.

forks high was exactly the kind of place you expected it to be. quiet. cold. a little too clean in some corners and not clean enough in others. the entryway was all pale tile and dull brick, the kind of off-white that never really looked white, just tired. bulletin boards lined the walls, cluttered with curling flyers. student council meetings, lost and found notes, half ripped posters for drama club auditions. everything smelled faintly of rain, as if the weather had soaked into the walls and never quite left.

the ceiling was low, lined with flickering fluorescent lights that buzzed just loud enough to irritate. lockers stretched down the hallway like a muted steel spine, dented and marked with years of quiet rebellion. stickers half-scraped off, initials carved into paint.

students milled around, voices low, footsteps soft against the linoleum. it wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. you moved through the space like you’d been here before, because you had, sort of. memories trickled in, slow and out of order. you could almost picture your younger self walking these halls, small and quiet and trailing behind your brother.

but that version of you was long gone. and this place, for all its sameness, would have to meet a new you.

you made it to the admissions office without needing directions. same yellowing tile, same bulletin board, same secretary who didn’t look up until you were standing directly in front of her desk.

she handed over a folded class schedule and a half mumbled “you’ll need to get that slip signed,” like it was muscle memory. you took the papers with a nod and turned to go. only, you were stopped by the presence of a tall girl standing in the doorway.

the desi girl stopped just a second before she bumped into you completely, her mouth opening as if she was a second away from saying something either gently condescending, or something downright cruel— no inbetween. but she closed her mouth just as swiftly as if she recognized who you were.

she was stunning. dark hair fell around her face in loose waves, effortless like it always looked that way. her brown skin caught the light just right, glowing with the kind of confidence you couldn’t fake. she wore a long coat over a fitted tank, no backpack in sight. just a worn leather tote slung over one shoulder like she didn’t have a care in the world. she didn’t look like she was trying, which only made it worse. or better, depending on your angle.

for a moment, neither of you moved. her eyes scanned your face, cool and calculating, like she was trying to place you in a lineup. yours were more confused than anything, unsure why this girl, who clearly didn’t hand out her attention lightly, was giving you so much of it.

then she tilted her head, the slightest shift, and something in her expression changed. not softened exactly, but warmed in a way that felt out of place for someone who looked like she lived on disinterest.

“…y/n?”

you raised a brow. “yes...?”

the sarcasm that had been brimming on her lips vanished before it could land. the edge in her voice dulled.

“thought so,” she said, and for a second, it almost sounded like she was glad.

you gave her a once over. the curve of her mouth, the way she stood like she owned the hallway. there was something familiar in it, just out of reach. a feeling more than a memory, like a song you used to know by heart but hadn’t heard in years.

"lara raj," she said, watching your face like she was waiting for the click of recognition. "we used to carpool. preschool. your mom had that beat up red station wagon, the one with the broken cassette player that only played static and that one lion king tape."

the image came back slowly, hazy at the edges. her, years smaller, hair frazzled and curly, legs swinging from the edge of the backseat. your mom's voice humming along to muffled music, a juice box passed between sticky fingers. a simple time before everything got complicated.

"wow," your eyes widened slightly, still caught somewhere between surprise and nostalgia. "i haven't thought about that car in forever."

lara smiled, just enough to soften her sharp edges. her gaze lingered on you a second too long to be casual.

"yeah, i try not to think about preschool me either. tragic fashion choices," she said, a small laugh in her voice. then, she pointedly looked you up and down. she leaned against the door of the office, the administration lady long forgotten behind you. "but you? hard to forget."

the way she said it wasn’t overly sweet, but it carried a weight that made your stomach dip. like she knew exactly how pretty she was and wasn’t afraid to use it.

"the glow up suits you, by the way," she added, eyes skimming you again, slower this time.

you weren’t sure what surprised you more. her remembering, or the fact that she actually seemed happy to see you.

you grinned, just a little. “i’d say the same but all i can think about is your pink shoes.”

the corners of lara's lips tilted up into a small smirk, quick and clean. “damn. you do remember.”

“hard to forget someone who cried when someone else wore the same pair.”

“okay, rude,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes briefly before that same calm expression returned to her pretty face. “but i’ll let it slide.”

you stepped aside to let someone pass through the narrow doorway, but lara barely budged. that was all it took to figure her out. she was the kind of person who expected the world to move around her, because she never moved for anyone. a small part of you couldn’t help but envy that.

she nodded toward the paper in your hands. "first day?"

“yes,” you nodded, glancing down to read the fine print text. you grimaced. “i’ve got no clue where i’m supposed to be.”

she nodded, thoughtful. “then you’re with me.”

you didn’t ask if she was supposed to be your guide.  the way she said it made it clear it wasn’t a question. even if she wasn’t, something told you she just wanted the excuse to talk a little longer.

lara pried the paper from your hands, her eyes scanning the paper carefully. after a moment she folded it back up and nodded for you to follow her wordlessly, the hallways practically parting like the red sea around her as she lead you to your first class of the day. you walked together, slow and unbothered, like this was something you’d done before. when you notice the very pointed stares shot your way, you awkwardly leaned in close enough for her to hear.

“so, lara... mind telling me why everyone’s looking at you like you shot lennon?”

the hallway hummed with the quiet chaos of a monday morning. sneakers squeaked against freshly waxed floors, lockers slammed shut with tired finality. lara didn’t even glance around. she walked like she didn’t notice the stares. or rather, like she didn’t care.

“oh, you know,” she said with a lazy shrug, her tone almost bored. “you tell one guy to shut the hell up in chem, maybe threaten to cut his brake lines if he doesn’t stop talking during your quiz, and suddenly you’re a menace to society. go figure.”

you blinked. “wow. totally reasonable behavior.”

“right?” she flashed you a grin, unapologetic. “people can be so dramatic.”

you shook your head with a small laugh, adjusting the strap of your bag as you both rounded a corner. the crowd seemed to melt out of her way, as if they were used to doing it. or perhaps, too scared not to.

“so,” lara said after a beat, her voice quieter now. “what’re you doing back here? i didn’t think i’d ever see you again after you just… up and left.”

you hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “well, i don’t know if ‘up and left’ is the phrase i’d use.” 

lara glanced at you from the corner of her eye, skeptical. “still. one day you’re there, the next you’re just gone. no warning. it sucked.”

you glanced at her, surprised by the blunt honesty.

“what’s it to you?” you asked, trying to keep it light. “didn’t think you’d even remember me.”

she scoffed, rolling her eyes in that smooth, practiced way that said she absolutely knew how cool she looked doing it. “can’t a girl miss a pretty face?”

you snorted. “i’m sure my middle school acne was miss america material.”

lara tilted her head slightly. “yeah, well. look at you now. i think it all worked out.”

you blinked, heat rising to your cheeks before you could stop it. lara just kept walking like she hadn’t dropped a casual bomb on your morning. her third semi-compliment and you weren’t even ten minutes into the day yet.

she stopped a few steps later in front of a classroom, gesturing inside with a subtle nod of her head. but even as the bell rang, as bodies started racing through the halls to make it on time, she didn’t move. her absolute nonchalance made you feel somewhat nervous. how the hell did this girl make it to senior year?

lara stared you down, the corner of her lips tilting up. “come find me at lunch, yeah? i’ll introduce you to some of my friends.”

you couldn’t help but furrow your brows, your eyes narrowing doubtfully. “something tells me this isn’t an offer you give everybody.”

she simply shrugged, her feet finally turning and carrying her in the opposite direction. still, her voice carried through the hall loud enough for you to hear over the sound of the bell and chatter.  “maybe one could say i just have a soft spot. be there or don’t, it’s up to you. but i know i’d like to see you again.”

and that was it. you stood in the doorway and watched her walk, snorting quietly when she slammed into a freshman not paying attention to his surroundings with a less-than-apologetic roll of her eyes. lara raj was so unlike the girl you used to know when you were kids. but somehow, you knew her presence alone was going to make this transition so much easier.

‎ 

by the time lunch rolled around, you were nearly convinced your brain had liquefied. something about first day overstimulation made even the simplest subjects feel like complex equations. names blurred, directions tangled, and your feet were already beginning to ache from pacing between unfamiliar classrooms.

still, you’d survived. mostly.

the cafeteria was louder than you'd expected. it buzzed with conversation, the scraping of plastic trays, and the occasional obnoxious burst of laughter. the scent of underwhelming food drifted in thick waves, clashing with the faint tang of rain still clinging to students’ jackets.

you stood at the entrance for a moment, scanning the room. and then you saw her. lara sat at one of the center tables, leaning back in her chair like she owned it. legs crossed, posture relaxed. she wasn’t alone.

the first girl your eyes darted to was the one with long, dark curly hair falling past her shoulders and a cool, unreadable expression stitched across her face. her curls complimented her dark skin beautifully, her eyeliner capturing the sharpness of her eyes.  the second girl had sleek, straight hair dyed a bright orange and a slightly dazed look in her eyes, like her brain was on a three second delay. the thought almost brought a grin to your face as you walked over.

lara spotted you immediately. her lips curved into that same half smile she’d worn all morning. “look who didn’t chicken out.”

“wasn’t sure if the invite was real,” you replied, sitting across from her. “you don’t seem like the type to socialize.”

lara tilted her head slightly. “you’re not wrong. but i make exceptions.”

the dark haired girl beside her raised a brow. “this the new girl?”

“y/n,” lara said, nodding toward you. “she’s an old friend.”

“friend?” the orange haired girl echoed, blinking. “damn, i didn’t know lara had those.”

lara didn’t blink. “i don’t.”

across the table, the dark haired girl gave a slow, deliberate smile. “manon,” she offered, introducing herself with a cool accent you couldn’t place. somewhere european, smooth and crisp. “please don’t let lara’s attitude scare you. i’m glad we have someone new coming to sit with us.”

“megan,” the other girl said, waving with her spoon. “i’m the one who makes this table tolerable. sometimes.”

“she’s not lying,” lara murmured, resting her chin on her hand. “it’s mostly manon and me making fun of people. megan’s the comic relief.”

“every group needs a clown,” megan said cheerfully, not the least bit offended. “besides, my gpa’s higher than both of yours. clown and valedictorian? the duality is crazy.”

manon’s eyes zeroed in on you after a moment, curious as she ignored the younger girl's words with a roll of her eyes. megan pouted slightly when no one acknowledged her, but dug back into her yoghurt anyway. 

“so,” manon drawled, scanning your frame. “what’s your deal? i’ll be honest, it’s a small town. the moment we all heard someone new was moving in, it kinda made rounds. it’s unusual.”

megan chimed in with a small hum, leaning forward with equal curiosity, spoon in mouth. “forks isn’t anything special. you’re staying with that cute cop, right? officer jeong?”

your eyes blew wide. “cute? i don’t know about that. jaehyun’s like a brother.” then you trailed off, thoughtful. you didn’t know these girls well enough to splurge too much detail, not yet. instead you shrugged. “just needed a change in scenery, i guess. he’s  an old family friend and had a spare room. nothing too interesting.”

lara hummed. “interesting enough. not a lot happens around here. you coming back is probably the most entertaining thing to happen in a while. except for–” she stopped mid sentence. not dramatically. more like her words just slipped away, pulled by something just out of frame.

you noticed the shift immediately. her posture straightened, a subtle lean in her stance like she was trying not to stare too obviously. you followed her gaze.

and that’s when you saw her.

long legs, bare despite the cold, framed by the curve of a short dark denim skirt. her jacket was cropped and tailored, hugging her waist with silver stitching that glinted when she moved. brown boots laced high over her calves, fur lining the edges like something out of a high fashion wilderness. every inch of her was styled, but not forced. like this wasn’t her best effort. it was just any regular old monday. 

her hair fell in thick, effortless waves, black and glossy. she had the kind of beauty you didn’t speak about out loud. too sharp, too deliberate. as if someone had sculpted her with a precise hand, then had the audacity to give her those lips. full, lacquered, and slightly parted. her eyes were ringed with dark lashes, skin soft like moonlight filtered through silk. and yet, despite all that, there was something distant about her. not cold, not unkind. just… out of reach. like she existed on the other side of glass and hadn’t decided yet whether she’d let anyone cross.

she glanced across the room once, slow, unbothered. the kind of look that made people straighten in their chairs without realizing. her gaze skimmed past you, and even that made your pulse stutter. not because she’d seen you. but because, just for a second, it felt like she might.

then she turned and walked to a table near the windows where another girl was already sat. curly brown hair, a beauty mark above her eyebrow. she was breathtakingly gorgeous, too. still, your gaze wandered back to the black haired beauty. they didn’t greet each other with words. just a glance, a tilt of the head. some quiet understanding that only made her feel further away. 

“who is she?” you asked, voice low, words barely leaving your mouth.

manon looked up, followed your line of sight, and hummed in recognition.

“that’s sophia laforteza. if i were you, i wouldn’t bother trying to get too close. her and her sisters don’t really talk to anyone outside of each other.”

“sisters?”

“adopted. daniela’s in our year, and yoonchae’s a junior. rumor has it there’s more, but who knows.” manon shrugged. “it’s not like anyone can get close to find out. they just stick to themselves.”

you didn’t answer right away. your eyes were still locked onto sophia and her sister, who you assumed was daniela. they didn’t say much. barely looked around. there was a kind of practiced quiet about them, like they were used to being watched but didn’t care.

“you should see their dad. man, does he got it going on,” megan added, lips twisting into a silly grin.

you blinked. maybe you were imagining it, but you could’ve sworn sophia’s jaw clenched. her nose twitched up like she’d caught a bad smell, just for a split second. no one else seemed to notice, or care, so you shrugged it off. must’ve been a trick of the light.

manon continued after a beat, dismissing megan’s words with a subtle eye roll.  “dr. insung is a doctor. his wife does some kind of home renovation thing. i don’t know, really. all i do know is that they won’t give you the time of day. especially not sophia.”

lara chimed in with a snort. “do you remember when jungwon tried asking her out and she ignored him completely? poor guy was laughed at for two weeks straight after.”

“well yeah, but that’s because he ran into a wall hightailing it out of the cafeteria. if you ask me, he did it to himself.”

the conversation drifted on from there, the girls falling back into idle gossip and half laughed stories, but you stayed quiet.

your eyes kept drifting back to sophia’s table.

you weren’t trying to be obvious about it, but it didn’t matter. the pull was gravitational. something about her lingered in the back of your mind, like the echo of a song you couldn’t name. it was in the way she sat, shoulders relaxed but spine straight, chin tilted like she was carved from stillness. everything about her was deliberate. still. certain. like she’d never once second guessed anything in her life.

you couldn’t tell if it was admiration, curiosity, or something else altogether. all you knew was that no matter how many times you forced your gaze to shift, it always returned to her.

sophia hadn’t looked up once. not toward you, not toward anyone. she didn’t need to. she was above it. not in the petty, mean girl way people liked to throw around, but in that impossible, untouchable way some people just were. like the air bent around her.

and then she looked at you.

it was sharp. not sudden, not startled. but sharp. like she’d been trying not to, like she was irritated she even had to. her gaze snapped to yours across the room, and for the first time since you walked into forks high, your breath caught.

her eyes were dark. endless. and furious.

not in a loud, expressive way. no. this was quiet rage. confused, measured, simmering just under the surface. her jaw clenched slightly, her brow barely twitching. she looked at you like you were the one thing in the room that didn’t make sense,  and it angered her.

and god, she was beautiful.

more beautiful, even, than when she wasn’t looking at you. with the full weight of her attention on you, she became something else entirely. sharp edged, magnetic, electric. every line of her face was clearer now, every curve more impossible. her glossy lips were parted just slightly, her eyes unreadable but piercing. 

you didn’t look away. 

but it didn’t matter. one blink was all it took. like flipping a switch, the connection severed, cold and immediate. she turned back to her sister, untouched. uninterested. like the moment hadn’t happened at all.

but it had.

and you were still sitting there, heartbeat in your throat, wondering why it felt like she hadn’t just looked at you, but into you.

and she found nothing.

__

the rest of the day passed in a blur. teachers spoke, classmates introduced themselves, bells rang. you moved through all of it like you were watching yourself from somewhere else. distant. unfocused. if you were honest with yourself, you knew exactly why.

sophia laforteza.

pale skin, glossy lips, eyes like razors. you couldn’t stop thinking about her. not the way she looked in the casual sense, though that, too. but the way it felt when her eyes met yours. like being held under a microscope. examined. dismissed. it wasn’t just her beauty that lingered. it was the sharpness of it, the way she seemed to move through the world untouched, unaffected. like she didn’t need to speak to be heard. like the air around her shifted to make space.

her face kept flashing behind your eyelids every time you blinked. that single, perfect curl falling over her shoulder. the way her dark lashes framed those piercing, unreadable eyes. the fullness of her lips, too glossy, too perfect to be real. it was like looking at a painting that dared you to understand it, and punished you for trying.

you’d hadn’t spoken a word to her, and yet she managed to embed herself in your brain like a splinter. no warning, no introduction. just in, under your skin and in the quiet corners of your mind.

it was absurd. maddening. unfair.

because what kind of cosmic joke was it to let someone like her exist? someone so thoroughly, heartbreakingly gorgeous, and then drop her into your reality without warning? as if it was normal. as if people like her weren’t supposed to live somewhere else entirely. magazine covers, film premieres, dreams.

but no. she was here. in your school. sitting at a cafeteria table with her sister like she hadn’t just shattered your internal equilibrium. you were still trying to piece yourself together.

you tried to shake it off. to ground yourself in the mundane. but even then, your mind drifted back to her. back to that strange, silent moment where she’d looked at you like your very existence had thrown her off course. you didn’t know what that meant. you didn’t know why it mattered. you just knew it did. somewhere behind those dark eyes, there was a secret. and for reasons you couldn’t explain, you wanted to be the one to uncover it.

you were pulled from your thoughts by the sudden clang of your head smacking into the side of a clevis hangar, the sharp ring echoing off the concrete walls of jaehyun’s garage. pain bloomed above your eyebrow, and you muttered a curse under your breath, raising a hand to rub the sore spot.

behind you, jaehyun burst out laughing.

“shit, sorry! that was not part of the surprise.”

“please,” you groaned, “take this damn blindfold off before I get a concussion.”

“right, yeah, hang on.”

you felt him step behind you, the knot at the back of your head loosening with a tug of his fingers. the fabric slipped away and for a moment you had to blink, letting your eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent light overhead. then you saw it. it hit you like a punch to the gut.

your brother’s truck.

old. beat up. unmistakable. the faded blue eighty-six chevrolet sat at the center of the garage like some relic from a different lifetime. rust clung to the edges of the hood, the tires were half deflated, and the front bumper was still crooked from that incident with jaehyun’s father. 

but it was his.

your breath caught in your throat, and for a second all you could do was stare. it was like seeing a ghost in daylight. impossible and undeniable all at once.

jaehyun shifted beside you, still grinning, hands planted on his hips like he’d just won a prize.

“well?” he asked. “recognize it?”

“yeah,” you said, barely above a whisper. “yeah, i do.”

you stepped closer, fingers brushing over the worn driver side door like it might vanish if you touched it too hard. the metal was cold beneath your hand. familiar. real.

“how the hell did you get her back here?“

he gave a small self satisfied shrug, like it hadn’t taken him two weeks of back-and-forth calls and a favor from a friend who owed him.

“i had it towed. nothing a little elbow grease and some calls couldn’t do.”

you glanced at him, then back at the truck. the corners of your mouth lifted. barely.

“you really think she’s gonna run?”

jaehyun raised his brows, took a step forward, and rapped twice on the hood like he was waking up an old friend.

“only one way to find out.”

you didn’t hesitate. the door creaked when you pulled it open, louder than you remembered, and the interior smelled faintly of old vinyl and motor oil. exactly like it used to. you climbed in and sat behind the wheel, your fingers wrapping instinctively around the gearshift.

it felt… eerie, how natural it still was. like your brother had only just stepped out and handed you the keys.

you took a deep breath, slid the key into the ignition, and turned.

click.

you tried again.

clickclickclick.

the engine didn’t even cough. just a cold, mechanical protest. you leaned back, eyes shut for a second, then looked out the window at jaehyun.

“you sure this thing didn’t die a final death already?”

“give her a break,” he called back, grinning. “she’s been asleep for a while.”

you exhaled through your nose and turned the key one last time, slower now. like the truck might respond better to gentleness.

click.

“she’s dead,” you said plainly, throwing the door open again and stepping out. “like, dead dead.”

jaehyun shrugged again, not the least bit surprised. “well, i told you it was in rough shape. figured you’d maybe wanna’ fix it up.”

you looked at the truck again. the rust, the chipped paint, the cracked windshield. you could still see the faint outline of the old bumper sticker your brother had slapped on the back when he was seventeen. it felt less like a machine and more like a time capsule.

“you’re not wrong,” you said finally, quietly. “she just needs a little time.”

“don’t we all,” jaehyun muttered. “i’ll help you get her running again. between the two of us, we’ll bring her back.”

you raised a brow. “since when do you know anything about cars?”

he snorted. “i don’t. but i’ve got tools. how hard can it be?”

you smiled, just faintly, and looked back at the truck.

“guess we’ll find out.”

‎ 

it was almost comical how wrong you both were. 

it started with confidence. jaehyun dragged out a dented toolbox from the back of the garage, wiping it down like it was some kind of sacred relic. 

“we’ve got this,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “it’s just a truck.”

you raised an eyebrow. “a truck that’s been sitting dead for over six years.”

“semantics.”

the hood fought you at every step. first it wouldn’t open, then it opened too quickly. it slammed upward with a metallic crack that nearly took jaehyun’s head off. 

“not a word,” he muttered when he saw your shocked face.

the engine bay was a horror show. rust, leaves, something suspiciously chewed up in one corner. a graveyard of neglect. still, you gave it a go. you held the flashlight while jaehyun peered inside like he was looking into the soul of an ancient beast.

“alright, battery first,” he said.

“do you even know how to jump a car?”

“doesn’t everyone?”

you didn’t. at least, not correctly.

jaehyun pulled his cruiser into the garage nose to nose with the truck, and uncoiled the jumper cables like a man with a plan. five minutes later, sparks flew. too many of them, at that. one of the clamps popped loose and landed on the floor with a metallic clink.

“that didn’t seem right,” you said, peeking around the door.

“we’re fine,” jaehyun answered, determined. 

you leaned against the garage wall, arms crossed. “we’re gonna blow this place up.”

“not tonight, please. i just cleaned.”

you tried the ignition once, then twice. the engine groaned, a long, sickly sound like it was trying to wake from a coma. it sputtered, choked, and fell silent again.

jaehyun cursed softly under his breath, then grabbed a wrench and slid under the truck with the kind of reckless optimism that only comes from someone who hadn’t read a single manual.

you knelt down beside him, flashlight in hand. “what are we even looking for?”

“something loose. or not connected. or… i don’t know. anything that doesn’t look like it should be there.”

“jae, i’ve never seen a working truck engine in my life. it all looks like it shouldn’t be there.”

somewhere between checking fuses and trying to siphon old fuel from the tank, you both lost track of time. the garage grew cold. the air turned heavy with grease and old dust. there was a slow, steady rhythm to your failures. try, fail, adjust. try again.

at one point, jaehyun smacked the steering wheel in frustration. “i swear this truck is cursed.”

the truck didn’t move. not an inch. the key turned and gave you nothing but sputters and silence.

but you didn’t mind.

it wasn’t about whether it ran. not tonight. tonight, it was about being in that space, shoulders brushing, laughter tucked between curses and exhaust fumes, and the quiet weight of memory that hung around the truck like fog.

“we’ll try again tomorrow,” jaehyun finally said, wiping his hands with a rag and slumping into a folding chair.

you stayed seated a moment longer, hand resting on the cold, dented frame of the driver’s door.

“yeah,” you said softly. “tomorrow.”

‎

only, perhaps ‘tomorrow’ wouldn’t come after all. 

you weren’t sure when exactly you passed out. one minute you were scrubbing black grime from your skin, the next you were under your covers, still in yesterday’s clothes, your pillow streaked with the faint scent of motor oil. maybe it was the weight of the day. maybe it was the ache in your shoulders from hours hunched over an engine that didn’t want to come back to life. maybe it was even the weight of your first day at forks high. but you were exhausted. your body begged for the relief of a good night's rest. 

only the bang that woke you, loud in its boom, cut through your sleep like a blade. you sat up, breath caught in your throat.

“jaehyun?” your voice came out hoarse, barely audible.

silence.

you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood, every instinct prickling beneath your skin. your clothes were crumpled, stiff with the day’s sweat and oil. something felt off. you didn’t know what, only that the air was wrong. too still. the hallway light was on. dim, yellow, buzzing faintly. you followed it down the stairs.

“jae?” you called again.

this time, he answered. muffled and tense. “hey—shit, sorry. didn’t mean to wake you.”

he was in the dining room, crouched near the bench, one boot already on and the other half laced. his uniform was thrown on in a hurry, shirt wrinkled, badge skewed slightly to the left. he was moving with urgency. something you hadn’t seen from him in a long time.

then you saw the gun. it sat on the dining table beside his keys. holstered, loaded, polished.

your heart sank. “what’s going on?”

he sighed, running a hand over his face. “a call came through about an hour ago. something happened out in the woods, not far. a hiker found a body.”

you stared. “a body?”

“they said it was…” he hesitated. “it looked strange.”

“strange how?”

“i don’t know yet,” he said. “dispatch didn’t give much detail. i’m heading up with a few of the guys now. we’ll get it sorted.”

you stepped closer, arms crossed. “i’m coming with you.”

he looked up, eyebrows lifting. “like hell you are.”

“why not?”

“because it’s a crime scene, y/n. it’s not a field trip.” he grabbed his coat and shoved one arm through the sleeve. “i need you to stay here.”

“i’m not a kid.”

“you’re not trained for this either.”

you stared at each other for a moment. it wasn’t a fight. it wasn’t loud or emotional. but there was something stubborn in your eyes that he recognized too well.

he softened slightly. “look. i’ll be back before morning. just stay inside, alright? lock the door. don’t go wandering.”

you didn’t answer. he didn’t wait for one. you watched him slip out the front door and disappear into the darkness, cruiser engine rumbling to life outside. red and blue lights flashed once, then vanished down the road.

you stood there for a while, unmoving. and then, maybe twenty minutes later, you weren’t inside anymore.

you hadn’t even meant to leave. you told yourself you were just checking. just seeing where the road led. but somehow your boots crunched against a dirt path thick with fallen leaves and rain soaked pine needles. the forest smelled like cold sap and wet bark. you hadn’t realized how dark it was until the trees swallowed you whole, the moon flickering faintly through the canopy above.

now here you were. in the dark, in the cold, breath caught in your throat as the scene came into full view.

a few cruisers were parked in a messy half circle, headlights casting uneven beams over the forest floor. long flashlights cut through the trees like searchlights. you couldn’t make out much detail at first, just movement. police moving slow and deliberate. too quiet for a crime scene.

no one joked. no one talked. and that silence rang louder than any siren.

you were about to duck away, maybe circle around for a better vantage point, when everything changed.

a sound. something like a crack, a shift of air too fast to register. it ripped through the clearing. something blurred at the edge of your vision, faster than anything you’d ever seen move. it was tall. too tall, and lean in a way that was almost wrong. skin pale as the moonlight. eyes, if you could call them that, glowing faintly red for the briefest flash.

then it lunged straight at jaehyun.

he didn’t even see it coming. one second he was scanning the woods, the next he was thrown backward like a ragdoll, body skidding across the leaves with a brutal, sickening thud.

“jaehyun!” you yelled before you could stop yourself, feet moving without thinking.

the… thing, whatever it was, looked up. its sharp, angular face was stained with something dark. lips curled back in something that might have been a smile, or perhaps even a snarl. and just as fast as it had come, it froze. its head jerked to the side. 

a second later, a long, echoing howl cut through the forest from the far side of the ridge. not close. not here. but close enough.

the thing ran. it all happened so quickly, a streak of movement. gone in a blink.

you stumbled down the slope into the clearing, heart hammering in your chest. you didn’t stop until you were on your knees beside jaehyun, the man laying twisted on the ground, blood seeping through his shirt, arm clutching his ribs.

“jaehyun! hey—” you barely got the words out.

his eyes cracked open, brows furrowed in pain. “damn it, y/n… i told you…”

“yeah,” you whispered, “you did.”

“you okay?” his voice was faint.

“don’t worry about me. you’re bleeding, you idiot.”

behind you, flashlights bobbed. officers were shouting again, voices rising, some asking you what you were doing here, others calling for backup, for a medic, for anything.

you didn’t answer.

you looked down at jaehyun’s wound, hand pressing against his side, trying to stop the bleeding. your own hands were shaking, but your mind stayed level.

you knew what you saw. even if you didn’t have the words for it yet.

__

you couldn’t remember the last time you’d sat in a hospital. maybe it was when you were nine, trying not to cry while a nurse stitched up the gash above your knee, bloodied from the jagged edge of a beer bottle someone had carelessly tossed in the grass. maybe it was a few years later, when you were twelve and camped out in the corner of an emergency room waiting area, your legs numb from sitting too long while your brother’s broken arm was wrapped and casted after a bad fall.

it didn’t matter, not really. because no matter how much time had passed, or how much had changed, the hospital still felt the same.

the air still smelled faintly of bleach and something too clean to be natural. the lights were still too bright, humming above you in a low, steady drone that crawled under your skin. the chairs were still too stiff, and everything felt like it was waiting to go wrong.

you sat at jaehyun’s bedside, one leg folded underneath the other, your hoodie still dusty from the woods and stained with sap. he lay reclined, torso slightly elevated, breathing with that ragged hitch that came from bruised ribs. a tree branch had pierced him clean through the side, the attending nurse said. it narrowly missed anything vital. now, his abdomen was wrapped in thick gauze, layers of medical tape crisscrossing like patchwork over skin still raw and angry. his temple was bandaged too, though blood had already seeped into the edge of the white wrap, staining it a dull, wet red. his hair was matted with dried leaves and sweat.

but he was alive. he was okay.

“you look like shit,” you said quietly, voice barely above a murmur.

jaehyun cracked open one eye, his lips twitching in a half smile that winced into a grimace.

“thanks. real comforting.”

you didn’t laugh. neither did he.

there was a thin iv line running down from his arm, the bag above it slowly dripping clear liquid like the seconds ticking by.

outside the door, nurses moved quietly up and down the corridor, shoes squeaking against linoleum. distant voices filtered in from the front desk.

but inside the room, it was just the two of you.

you leaned back in the plastic chair, eyes drifting toward the heart monitor beside his bed. the soft blip of his pulse steadied you more than you cared to admit.

“you should’ve stayed home,” he murmured after a beat.

“you should’ve let me come with you,” you replied.

his head lolled slightly toward you. “i’m a cop, y/n. don’t be ridiculous.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “can you blame me? you’re the only thing i have left, jae.”

he didn’t say anything at first. not a nod, not a hum. just the quiet sound of his breathing, strained but steady. maybe he thought you were being dramatic. maybe he didn’t want to admit that he understood. 

but you weren’t just being dramatic.

the thought of losing the only person you had left made your stomach turn. it wasn’t just fear. it was dread. that cold, creeping kind that wrapped itself around your ribs and sat heavy on your chest.

in the silence, your thoughts began to slip again. racing, spiraling, trying to make sense of the night. it almost didn’t feel real. this morning you were starting your first day back at forks high. and now you were sitting in a hospital, watching blood pool under gauze, your body still vibrating from adrenaline.

when your mind finally circled back to the thing you saw in the woods, your mouth went dry. you looked down at your hands, then back at jaehyun.

“did you…” your voice came quiet, careful. “did you see anything out there?”

he was still for a long moment. then he exhaled slowly, gaze drifting toward the ceiling.

“no,” he said, shaking his head once. “like i told the guys, I don’t remember much of anything.”

the second you got to the hospital, before they let you anywhere near his room, two officers pulled you aside for questioning. you hesitated. you could’ve said what you saw, could’ve told them about the blur, the red eyes, the flash of blackness in the trees. but the words never made it past your lips.

you said it was an animal. a coyote. maybe a fox. a lie, soft and simple, easy to understand. the truth sounded crazy. were you crazy? could you have just been tired? sleep deprived?

still, part of you wanted to say it now. if there was anyone in this town you could trust, it was jaehyun. 

just as you parted your lips, the door clicked open.

a man stepped inside. tall. pale. a stark contrast to the warm lighting of the hospital room. his presence quieted everything instantly. he was beautiful, objectively so.

sharp features, a clean jawline, skin smooth like porcelain. his hair was dark and neatly styled, not a strand out of place. his coat hung perfectly on his frame, white as fresh snow. a stethoscope looped loosely around his collar. in his hands was a clipboard, clutched lightly like it weighed nothing. but it was his eyes that caught you off guard. not blue. not brown. gold.

he smiled faintly as his eyes flicked between you and jaehyun. polite. professional. practiced.

“officer jeong,” he said in a voice as smooth as his appearance. “how are we feeling?”

jaehyun offered a weak, lopsided grin, wincing slightly. “like i lost a wrestling match to a tree.”

the doctor chuckled gently, the sound soft and perfectly timed. “well, considering the size of the branch that went through your side, that’s not far off.”

he stepped forward, flipping open the clipboard and giving the chart a brief glance, though it felt more like a formality than necessity.

“dr insung,” he added, extending a hand to you without looking up. “you must be his sister.”

you paused for just a second before shaking it. you recognized him immediately. your conversation with megan, lara and manon in the school cafeteria rang through your mind. his grip was cool, firm, and deliberate. not too tight, not too soft. calculated.

“uh… no. just a family friend,” you said quickly, not wanting to unpack everything in front of jaehyun’s attending physician.

“of course,” he said, glancing at you now with that same unreadable calm. “you were with him when the incident happened, correct?”

you nodded slowly. “yeah.”

his eyes stayed on you a beat longer than necessary, as if reading something behind your expression. and then he smiled again, this time softer. less clinical.

“you’ve had a long day. i imagine your nerves are still in overdrive,” he said, gently folding the clipboard closed. “it’s not uncommon for the brain to fill in gaps with…” he paused, as if searching for the right word. “spectacular things. especially in moments of panic. it’s a defense mechanism, in a way. it makes the fear easier to process.”

you blinked. your mouth stayed shut. you hadn’t said a thing about what you saw. not to him. not even to jaehyun. not one word. his voice. his posture. the way he somehow already knew what had been playing on a loop in your mind. it made your skin crawl, but not out of fear. not exactly.

he knew something, you could feel it. and maybe, just maybe, he knew that you knew too.

dr insung smiled again like he hadn’t just said something deeply unnerving. like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“fortunately,” he continued, “officer jeong is stable. he’ll need to stay a few days for observation, but there’s no internal bleeding. we’ll keep him comfortable.”

jaehyun muttered a low, “great,” and tried not to grimace as he shifted in the bed.

but you couldn’t look away from dr insung. even as he gave a final polite nod and turned to leave, even as his hand brushed the doorframe on his way out, your eyes followed him. it was the kind of lingering that wasn’t just instinct. it was compulsion. maybe it was because of how his gaze met yours just before he left, held for a second too long, like he was saying something wordless behind the curve of that careful smile. then he was gone. 

for a moment you simply sat there. you wanted so badly to follow him, to get answers, but the battered body of jaehyun beside you kept you rooted. 

a second passed, then another, before finally you pulled yourself together.

“i’m gonna head out for a sec,” you murmured after a short wait, standing from the chair beside jaehyun’s bed.

he didn’t question it, didn’t even lift his head. just let out a sleepy hum, the medication clearly pulling him under.

the halls outside the hospital room were quiet, soft lights buzzing overhead. your sneakers squeaked faintly on the vinyl floor as you walked with no real direction, only instinct. the need to know propelled you forward, and maybe you didn’t expect to actually find him, not really. but you did.you stopped short when you turned a corner. just ahead, tucked half in shadow, stood dr. insung. and he wasn’t alone.

sophia.

it hit you all at once, the sight of her. the sleek black coat wrapped tightly around her shoulders, dark curls spilling like ink over the collar. she stood with her arms crossed, her posture rigid, like she’d rather be anywhere else. her head tilted slightly toward insung as he spoke to her in a low, measured voice. but it wasn’t friendly, that much was clear.

your feet rooted to the floor, ears straining to catch a word. you couldn’t make out specifics. just tone, tension. the sharp edge in sophia’s voice when she interrupted him, the way insung kept his hands clasped neatly behind his back, posture unwavering.

and then, like gravity itself had shifted, sophia’s eyes flicked past insung’s shoulder, right to you. your breath caught. she saw you, the same way she had in the cafeteria. only now there was no crowd between you. no chatter. no noise to blur the moment. and god, she looked even more stunning up close. annoyed, sure. irritated, absolutely. but her eyes latched onto yours like they had every right to be there. your stomach twisted, and you couldn’t look away.

something passed between you then. an unspoken dare, like she knew you were eavesdropping, and part of her dared you to keep listening.

sophia’s eyes cut toward insung like a blade. whatever he said to her, you hadn’t caught it. just the low thrum of voices echoing in the narrow hospital hallway. but the tension was impossible to miss. she stood rigid, arms crossed over her chest, her expression drawn tight with irritation, possibly even contempt. insung, on the other hand, looked calm. too calm. his voice was gentle, almost musical, yet there was an unmistakable edge beneath it, like a warning wrapped in velvet. the soft cadence of his words wasn’t meant for you, but somehow you felt it was. like he’d spoken loud enough for a reason.

then he turned, sensing your presence before you’d even made a sound.

“ah,” he said, voice smooth. “miss y/l/n. i was hoping you’d find your way.”

you blinked. “you were?”

he smiled again. placid. practiced. unreadable. “only because it’s late. it’s easy to get lost in unfamiliar places. especially after a long night.”

your eyes flicked to sophia, whose jaw had gone rigid. she was staring at insung now with pure annoyance, like she’d just realized she was being maneuvered and hated it.

“you should get some rest,” he continued, then glanced at sophia. “would you mind taking her home?”

sophia didn’t answer right away. there was a pause, long enough for the tension to thrum again between them. her eyes narrowed, but then she nodded. once.

“fine,” she said quietly. clipped.

you didn’t miss the way her body went rigid when insung turned his back and walked off, white coat billowing behind him like smoke. sophia looked at you then. sharp, indifferent. the quiet, barely concealed frustration still buzzing beneath her skin. 

“let’s go.”

you followed.

‎ 

the silence in the car wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was suffocating. it pressed in from all sides, thick and deliberate, like it had been invited in and asked to stay. it had weight to it. you sat still in the passenger seat, the seatbelt stiff across your chest as the silver volvo cut cleanly through the empty roads of forks.

“you should put your seatbelt on.” you found yourself saying before you could stop yourself.

sophia had long since pulled out of the hospital parking lot, her pretty face guarded so well you couldn’t even begin to decipher what she might have been thinking at that very moment. her car was spotless. every surface gleamed, even in the faint light of the dashboard. its leather seats looked like they’d never seen a touch of dust or grime, its padding soft beneath you. the interior smelled faintly of pine and something sharper, sterile almost, like the inside of a high end clinic. everything was in place. immaculate. like no one had ever really sat in it before.

for the briefest second, the faint hint of a smile tilted the corner of her lips. nothing that indicated happiness, but rather amusement. nonetheless, she swiftly listened to you. her hands moved deftly as she clipped her seatbelt into place. 

it was when her hand gently flew past yours over the middle console did you feel your body stiffen, however. your hand, once gently resting on your side, felt a breeze so cold you couldn’t help but recoil it back into your sleeve. her hand was freezing. a numbing, concerning kind of cold that had your eyes blowing wide, darting to stare at incredulously.

“you’re freezing!”

sophia didn’t say a word. her posture was perfect, hands relaxed on the wheel, eyes never straying from the road. even her blinker clicked with intention. no wasted movement, no sudden jerks. her presence filled the car more than the sound ever could have. composed. as cold as her hands. 

after a moment, she finally exhaled as if she’d just remembered she was supposed to breathe.

“it happens.” she explained lamely. 

it was short, but her voice made your heart skip a beat anyway. she sounded like honey, dripping slow and rich, but cooled at the edges. like something sweet pulled from the freezer, still beautiful but impossible to touch without flinching.

you watched her hands on the wheel. long fingers, smooth skin, knuckles pale from the cold. you weren’t imagining it. she was ice. not just chilly. not just cold from the air. it radiated off her, a kind of stillness that felt unnatural.

“you should keep gloves in the car,” you said softly, not sure why you said anything at all. maybe just to hear her speak again.

sophia gave a quiet huff, almost a laugh but not quite. “gloves don’t help.”

you furrowed your brow. “what do you mean?”

she didn’t answer. not right away. instead, she leaned into the next turn, the car curving smoothly along the road, headlights sweeping across the trees like searchlights. her eyes stayed ahead, focused, impossibly calm.

“some things just stay cold,” she said finally. “doesn’t matter what you wrap them in.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. something about the way she said it made your chest tighten, like the words meant more than they were letting on.

you turned your gaze back to the road. she hadn’t raised her voice once. hadn’t shifted her posture, hadn’t let anything slip. but still, you felt it. the weight of her. like gravity bending in the shape of a girl.

you could hear the tires crunch against gravel whenever the pavement broke apart. the hum of the engine was almost too quiet, as if the car wasn’t even really running. and yet it moved. you turned your head just slightly, studying her out of the corner of your eye. her face was calm, unreadable, the same one she’d worn at the hospital. beautiful in that effortless, almost cruel way. you half expected her to break the silence, to ask you something, to say anything.

then her eyes met yours suddenly.

they caught the light from the dashboard, shining bright gold. not hazel, not amber. gold. like melted metal. like sunlight through a bottle. it was the kind of color you’d never seen in a human eye before. unnatural, but not in a loud way. subtle. deliberate. like whoever had them wanted you to notice, but only if you were really looking.

you were.

it struck you as strange. jarring, even. not just because of how vivid the color was, but because you’d seen it before, not even ten minutes ago in jaehyun’s hospital room. 

dr insung. 

he’d looked at you with those same golden eyes, calm and clinical and just a little too knowing. and sophia, well, she was his daughter. adopted, manon said. yet here was this strange, gleaming sameness between them. something no paperwork could explain.

you looked back at her, really looked. the curve of her lashes. the way her irises seemed to glow faintly in the dark, almost reflective, like a cat’s. like they didn’t just catch the light, they absorbed it. held it. turned it into something else.

your stomach twisted, just slightly.

there was something in her stillness. something too perfect. too measured. she didn’t blink as much as people usually did. didn’t fidget. didn’t shift in her seat when the car hit a bump. her face was carved in calm, sharp and flawless like it had been painted on. no crease in her brow, no twitch at the corner of her mouth. just silence and gold eyes that didn’t give anything away.

you turned back toward the window, heart ticking a little faster. you didn’t know what it meant. maybe nothing. maybe everything. but the moment sank into your bones anyway, and you knew, without knowing why, that you wouldn’t be able to forget it.

the silence hung between you like a third passenger.

“you don’t have to drive me, you know,” you said, your voice low, just loud enough to be heard over the hush of the tires on wet asphalt.

sophia didn’t look at you. “i know.”

that was it. no explanation. no softening. you let out a breath, more tired than frustrated. the silence swallowed it whole.

the rest of the ride dragged in fragments. headlights cutting through mist, streetlights sliding past like fading ghosts. you watched the trees blur by, long fingers of pine stretching into the dark. every now and then, your eyes flicked toward her, searching for a crack in the calm. something to hold onto.

she never looked back.

“did i do something wrong..?” the words slipped out before you could catch them. quieter than you meant. almost fragile. like they’d been sitting just under your tongue for too long, waiting for the right kind of silence to crawl out of. your throat felt tight. you hated how soft you sounded.

sophia didn’t flinch. didn’t blink.

“what an absurd question,” she said, voice smooth and flat, like marble.

you let out a dry laugh, but it didn’t land right. “that’s exactly what i’m talking about. did i do something to piss you off? or are you just always this… stabby?”

still, no reaction. not even a glance. her eyes stayed locked on the road, unbothered, like she hadn’t heard you at all. but she had. you knew she had. she just chose not to answer. her silence made the air feel thicker. like the car was shrinking around you inch by inch.

you watched her jaw tighten, just barely. the only giveaway that she was even made of muscle and not glass. she looked so composed, so contained, like the question hadn’t scraped against anything inside her. like nothing could.

you didn’t realize you were already in jaehyun’s driveway until the car began to slow, the engine softening to a quiet hum before cutting out completely. the sudden stillness made your ears ring. headlights spilled across the front of the house, catching on the porch rail and the edge of the garage, painting everything in pale, artificial white.

you sighed and unbuckled your seatbelt, fingers stiff with the cold. “thanks for the ride, i guess.”

you hadn’t expected her to get out too. but the soft click of her door echoed behind you, and when you turned, she was already walking around the car. quiet, composed, as if this was something she did every day. like it was routine to escort someone to their door without speaking to them the entire drive.

you hesitated, watching her fall into step beside you. her boots barely made a sound on the driveway, movements precise, effortless. she didn’t look at you. didn’t offer an explanation. just walked.

it was strange, the way her presence lingered. like a shadow cast too long under the porch light. cold, yes, but steady. and for reasons you couldn’t explain, that steadiness made your chest ache a little.

you gave her a sidelong glance, trying to cover the sudden twist in your stomach with sarcasm. “how chivalrous.”

she didn’t smile. not even a twitch. but her eyes flicked toward you briefly, sharp and unreadable, before settling back on the path ahead.

as you reached the front door, your steps slowed, a sinking feeling already blooming in your chest. you reached for the knob out of habit, then stopped short, fingers hovering. right. no key. not yet.

you muttered a curse under your breath and turned away, embarrassed and already annoyed with yourself. “great,” you mumbled, making a beeline for the garage. “plan b.”

you crouched slightly and wrapped both hands around the bottom of the rolling door, gave it a solid tug. nothing. it groaned a little, but didn’t budge. you tried again, gritting your teeth. still nothing.

behind you, sophia sighed. it was quiet but unmistakable, the kind of sigh people gave when they were watching something mildly pathetic unfold. before you could snap at her, she stepped past you. no comment, no look. she just reached down, took hold of the edge of the garage door with one hand, and pulled. the metal creaked, shuddered, and then rose like it had been greased. she stopped halfway, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you blinked at her, stunned. “what are you, hulk hogan?”

she didn’t answer. didn’t even acknowledge the question. just let go of the door and turned to wait for you to go inside, like lifting a whole garage was a thing anyone could do on a monday night.

ducking under the door, you stepped into the garage and flipped on the light. the overhead bulb flickered weakly before settling into a steady glow, stretching long shadows across the cold concrete floor. the old blue truck sat parked, a familiar presence in the quiet space. you moved carefully around it, mindful not to catch the side mirror.

sophia stepped in behind you, silent as ever.

“you didn’t have to come in,” you said without turning, glancing back.

“i know,” she replied shortly.

sophia’s gaze immediately dropped to your truck. her eyes narrowed slightly, sharp and deliberate, like she was reading something hidden beneath the chipped paint and worn edges. then she hummed low, tilting her head as her eyes locked onto something odd.

“where’s your jack?” she asked, voice quiet but precise.

you frowned, running a hand over the truck’s side. “jack?”

“the tool. for changing tires. shouldn’t you have one?” her eyes flicked to the back corner of the garage, where tools usually lived. her tone wasn’t mocking. more like she was cataloging details, checking off what was missing.

you hesitated, then reached behind the tire and grabbed the worn metal handle of the jack. as you lifted it, your fingers brushed against hers for the second time. the cold hit you first, sharp and biting, like an ice shard pressed to your skin. a numbing chill crawled under your skin and made you instinctively pull your hand back, clutching it close to your chest.

if she noticed it, she didn’t care. she knelt and did something you’re not sure what. when she stood a few moments later, she hummed.  “wrench.”

you stupidly follow her instruction and hand over the wrench. sophia’s fingers close around it without hesitation, smooth and confident as if it were an extension of herself. she crouched by the tire, her movements precise and practiced despite the truck’s worn, tired frame. you watched her inspect the tire like she was reading a story etched into the cracked rubber and rusted rim.

after a long moment, she straightened and let out a low hum, eyes flicking back to you with a weight you couldn’t quite place.

“lug nuts are stripped,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “wouldn’t hold much longer. this truck’s not going anywhere like this.”

you shifted uneasily, suddenly aware of how beaten down the truck looked under her sharp gaze.

“it was sitting in a scrapyard,” you said quietly, your voice rougher than you expected. “needs more than a wrench, i guess.”

her eyes narrowed just slightly. “looks ancient. you could probably sell it for spare cash, if you wanted.”

you felt the weight of those words like a slap. you bristled, jaw tightening. “it’s priceless.”

“garbage,” she said, blunt and unflinching, like stating a fact no one wanted to admit.

“it was my brother’s.” your voice was barely above a whisper, fragile and raw. you swallowed hard, the knot in your throat tightening as the weight of the words settled over you.

for a long moment, sophia didn’t say anything. she just stood there, the jack and wrench forgotten on the cracked concrete floor at her feet. her gold eyes didn’t waver. instead, they scanned you slowly, cold and precise, as if trying to read something deeper beneath the surface. then she clicked her tongue against her cheek, a small, sharp sound that cut through the silence.

“he’s dead,” she deadplanned flatly. no softness, no sympathy in her voice. just a quiet, brutal fact, stated like it was the simplest thing in the world. as if saying it any other way would be a lie.

the words hit you harder than you expected, colder than the night air pressing in through the open garage door. and yet, in that moment, her detachment felt less like cruelty and more like a strange kind of understanding. the kind that comes from knowing pain without needing to dress it up.

the silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, before sophia finally broke it. her voice was low, almost a murmur, but carried an unmistakable edge of command.

“why don’t i help you?”

you blink, caught off guard, unsure if you heard her right. “huh?”

her gaze didn’t waver, steady and unyielding, like a predator sizing you up. “don’t make me repeat myself.”

there was no invitation in her tone, no room for argument. it wasn’t a question. it was a statement. cold, deliberate, and somehow impossible to ignore. her honey eyes held something unreadable, something maddeningly calculated.

you swallowed. you knew something was wrong here. if the words lara, megan and manon told you at lunch meant anything, the girl standing before you now wasn’t offering to help you out of kindness. they just stick to themselves, the words rang through your mind like the echo of a broken radio. 

“no, i mean, i heard you. just... why?” you ask, confused.

her eyes lock onto yours, sharp and steady. serious, unreadable, like she’s weighing something far beyond your words. there’s no hint of warmth, no trace of explanation, just that quiet certainty that leaves no room for doubt.

after a long beat, she finally speaks, voice low and even. “i know a thing or two about cars.”

the words were plain, but the way she said them made your pulse skip. there was something coiled beneath them. something unreadable, like she wasn’t just talking about engines and bolts. it felt like an offer, a warning, and a promise all tangled into one. you stared at her, searching her face for anything soft. anything familiar. there was nothing.

“you don’t talk a lot, do you,” you said finally, voice almost light but not quite. more like testing the edge of something sharp.

sophia’s mouth pulled at the corners, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“maybe i just don’t have anything nice to say.”

she turned before you could come up with a response, dark hair catching the light as she moved. her footsteps were silent, unnervingly so, and for a second you wondered if you imagined the whole thing. if she’d ever been there at all.

but then, just before she crossed the threshold of the garage, she stopped. didn’t look back. didn’t shift.

“i’ll be back tomorrow,” she said. not a question. not a suggestion. just a statement of fact, carved into the air like stone. “don’t make me regret it.”

and then she was gone.

just like that. swallowed by the cold and the dark and the stillness outside. you stood there, alone in the garage, the jack and wrench still on the floor.

you didn’t know what just happened. you didn’t know what she wanted. but you knew one thing.

sophia laforteza wasn’t like anyone else in forks.

__

sophia had grown used to the noise. the way it clung to her like a second skin, thick and inescapable, pressing into her mind at all hours, without pause or mercy. every room she entered came alive with other people’s thoughts, overlapping and chaotic, a hundred separate voices folded into one unbearable hum. it was worse in crowded places, where the chatter grew louder, more intrusive, the boundaries between herself and others dissolving until she couldn’t tell where their wants ended and her exhaustion began.

she never knew peace. not the real kind, anyway. not the kind that came from being alone in your own head, untethered from the noise of the world. she would have given anything for it. a day, even an hour, where she could sit in a room and hear nothing but herself. there were nights she would run out into the forest surroundings forks and climb one of the tallest trees, just to obtain the illusion of quiet. but even then, the thoughts leaked through walls and floors and skin. they never stopped.

and then she saw you.

you were sitting with your friends, girls she briefly recognized from their banter and the way their thoughts would have her chuckling inadvertently whenever her mind would start to wander. your eyes swept the cafeteria slowly, almost warily, and in that moment, sophia felt it. not a thought. not even a flicker. just silence. pure and uninterrupted.

at first, she thought she’d missed something. a gap between words, a pause in a sentence. but when she focused, really focused, she heard nothing. no voice, no mental static, no vague emotional bleed. it was like staring at a wall where a window should be. like reaching for a sound that simply didn’t exist.

the silence unnerved her.

her brow twitched, just slightly, and for the first time in a very long time, sophia found herself uncertain. it wasn’t just that she couldn’t read you. it was that your mind didn’t even register in the way others did. it was as if something around you bent the noise, redirected it, left a void where there should have been something loud and obvious. everyone else in the cafeteria was an open book, pages fluttering in the wind. you were a locked journal with no title and no key.

the moment your gaze locked, something coiled tight in her stomach. she didn’t know what it was. not attraction, not exactly, but not indifference either. it was too precise, too sharp, too curious. the silence around you wasn’t peaceful like she had always imagined peace would be. it was the kind of quiet that made her ears ring, the kind that made her question whether it was silence at all or just something hidden too deep for her to reach.

it made her angry.

maybe it was irrational, but it didn’t matter. she’d lived decades surrounded by noise she never asked for, carrying the weight of every whisper and thought and cruel passing judgment. she endured it without question, never once allowed to forget how different she was from everyone else. and now here you were, some strange anomaly. a person she couldn’t hear, couldn’t predict, couldn’t reduce to a handful of errant thoughts. it made her feel off balance. it made her feel vulnerable.

she watched you the way a scientist watches a specimen under glass, searching for the catch, the flaw, the reason behind the impossible. she knew it was foolish to care. she knew she should look away and leave you alone, just another face in another forgettable crowd. but there was something about you that she couldn’t ignore, something that pulled at her in ways she had no name for.

in all the years since insung changed her, sophia had never experienced anything like this. she had never been able to separate her own mind from the minds of others, never known where she ended and everyone else began.

but when you looked at her, when your eyes met hers across the cafeteria… she felt, for a breathless moment, like she existed only within herself.

and for someone like sophia, that feeling was more dangerous than anything else in the world.

by the time she finally got back to the house she called ‘home’, it was pitch dark out.

the engine to her volvo barely cooled before the front door eased open, as if the house had been holding its breath. sophia stepped inside, her boots meeting the polished wood floor with a dull sound, muffled by the heavy quiet that always seemed to settle. outside, the forest stretched thick and endless in every direction, tall evergreens cloaking them in layers of green and shadow. the house sat hidden among them, tucked far beyond the beaten paths, where no uninvited eyes would ever wander. it was a place meant to be forgotten by the world. and it had been. the house itself was a contradiction. all open space and glass walls, as though it was made to be seen, and yet somehow it remained invisible, hidden by the wilderness around it. light from within spilled softly onto the wraparound deck, glowing pale against the moss covered stone steps. inside, the scent of cedar and worn leather books wrapped around her like a memory. old and grounding. a little too clean. a little too still.

she paused just past the threshold, shrugging off her jacket with slow fingers. every movement felt heavier than it should have. her eyes adjusted quickly to the low, golden light spilling from the tall fixtures in the living room. she didn’t need to look up to know she wasn’t alone.

daniela was perched on the arm of one of the long couches, arms folded, expression unreadable, a magazine discarded in her lap. yoonchae stood beside the tall windows, half shrouded in shadow, gaze fixed somewhere deep in the woods. they had been waiting.

sophia hated being expected.

the air between them was thick with silence, the kind that presses in, waiting to be broken. neither spoke for a long moment. then, finally, daniela’s voice cut through the stillness.

“well?” she said, her eyes sharp, watching sophia like she was waiting for a verdict. “did you scare her off?”

“she’s not scared. she doesn’t have a clue anything’s even going on.”

“not yet,” yoonchae chimed quietly.

“did she say anything?” daniela pressed, shifting on the armrest, eyes never leaving sophia.

“not about the woods,” sophia answered, voice low and steady. “not about what she saw.”

daniela hummed thoughtfully, tapping her fingers against her knee. “but she saw something.”

“of course she did,” yoonchae replied, her tone cold and sure. “the nomad didn’t cover his tracks.”

sophia said nothing. she knew exactly what yoonchae meant.

it wasn’t like she planned to venture far into port angeles that night all those days ago. when it came time to feed, sophia preferred to hunt quietly, keeping to the outskirts where the shadows thickened and the city’s pulse slowed. like her sisters and insung, she had relied on animal blood for as long as she could remember. an old habit, a careful discipline. it kept them hidden, kept the worst of the hunger at bay.

but that night, something had been different.

drawn by a scent, a subtle disturbance in the forest’s rhythm, sophia had followed a trail deeper than usual, further from the familiar edges of the woods. the moon was low, casting long silver fingers through the trees, painting the undergrowth in shades of gray and black.

she hadn’t expected to cross paths with anyone, let alone a nomad. a vampire who hunted recklessly, with no allegiance and no care for consequences.

it was an accident, pure and simple. a collision of fate and hunger that left her breath caught in her throat and her senses on high alert.

the nomad hadn’t tried to hide. no clever cover-ups, no careful retreat into the night. just careless, brutal presence. a reminder that the balance they all lived by was fragile, easily shattered.

sophia had slipped away before the worst could happen, but the encounter left its mark. the nomad saw her. looked her in the eyes, didn’t move to follow her as she darted back away further into the forests of forks until she was within safer hunting grounds.

she knew now the nomad was out there, roaming those woods, and the quiet edges of their world were anything but safe. 

a part of her couldn’t shake the guilt, especially since she’d just driven you home. you, whose guardian now lay in the hospital because of that very nomad. maybe he would have come to forks anyway, an inevitable pitstop on his path. or maybe, just maybe, he was following her.

that thought alone was enough to tighten the coil of unease deep inside her.

she moved past them toward the stairs, her steps measured but heavy. just as she reached the landing, daniela’s voice called after her.

“so… what’s she like?”

sophia paused, hand resting on the banister, but didn’t turn.  “quiet,” she said simply.

she didn’t need to elaborate for them to know what she meant. the reaction was immediate.

“you couldn’t hear her?” yoonchae asked, stepping away from the window, her posture straightening as if trying to read the air around them.

sophia glanced back over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. “nothing. no whisper. no static. it’s like she’s… soundproofed.”

daniela and yoonchae exchanged a look. quick, almost imperceptible, but loaded with meaning. a silent conversation passed between them, a shared understanding only they could read.

“so what’s insung’s angle? now he’s hoping you’ll get close to her?” daniela’s tone was casual, but the sharp edge beneath it cut clear. “that’s new.”

“i’m not getting close to anyone,” sophia said firmly. “i did what he asked. she’s home. she hasn’t talked. that’s all that matters.”

“for now,” yoonchae said softly, the warning hanging in the air.

sophia looked at them both. her sisters, calm and collected in their practiced way. there was a rhythm to their family, a code written in silence and secrets. but this girl, you, were a disruption. an unknown factor that unsettled their carefully ordered world.

“he wants to talk to you,” daniela said, sliding down from the armrest to stand, her eyes narrowing slightly.

sophia didn’t say anything else. she didn’t need to. the house seemed to hum with his presence, a quiet tension threading through the air like electricity. insung was there, waiting, beyond the door at the very end of the long hallway, in the room farthest from the front entrance. he must have returned home not long after you and sophia left the hospital.

she knew he’d heard everything. he’d heard her the moment her volvo’s tires whispered over the gravel driveway, had felt her presence like a ripple through the stillness. but it wasn’t him who would make the first move. that was always sophia’s burden.

with a soft, resigned sigh, she stepped forward.

her boots left dark smudges on the polished wood floor, a trail of dampness she made no effort to wipe away. the quiet scrape of leather against wood echoed faintly as she crossed the threshold into the sanctuary of his office.

there was no knock, no hesitation. insung didn’t flinch, didn’t even glance at the door.

she found him standing by the vast wall of windows behind his desk, hands folded calmly behind his back. his gaze was fixed on the forest beyond, the same woods that hid more than just shadows. the room was bathed in the muted glow of twilight filtering through the trees, casting long, stretching shadows across dark wood.

insung’s presence filled the space, steady, controlled, impossible to ignore. sophia felt the weight of it settle around her like a cloak, heavy but familiar.

“did you take y/n home safe?” insung’s voice floated in from the far end of the open space, calm in the way that only made her jaw tighten.

“yeah,” she said. “tucked her in, kissed her forehead, checked under her bed for monsters. all clear.”

he didn’t turn around. “don’t deflect.”

“don’t patronize.”

that got his attention. insung turned to face her, expression unreadable but eyes sharper than usual. “i asked you to do one thing.”

“no,” she said, stepping closer, “you asked me to babysit a human girl i’ve never spoken to, after dropping vague orders in a hospital hallway like we were back in seoul during the raids.”

“sophia—”

“you should’ve gone yourself,” she snapped. “if she saw the nomad, if she’s a risk, then it’s your problem, not mine.”

“it is yours,” he said, quietly but firmly. “you’re the only one the nomad saw.”

she fell still, the silence between them stretching thin.

“you think he’ll come back,” she said after a moment, softer now.

“i know he will.” insung stepped away from the window, voice low. “he caught your scent. he’s a wanderer, but he’s still a predator. he’ll come back to finish what he started.”

sophia dragged a hand through her hair, pacing a slow, frustrated circle in the center of the room. “so we track him down and kill him before he gets close again. you’ve done it before.”

“not with a human witness. not one who looked a vampire in the face and lived to remember it.”

“she hasn’t told anyone,” sophia muttered. “yet.”

insung watched her carefully. “and?”

“she’s not dangerous.”

insung’s gaze hardened. “you don’t know that.”

sophia looked away, hands curling into fists at her sides. the silence returned, stretching long and thin between them.

“i don’t like being used,” she said finally, voice low.

“i didn’t use you,” insung frowned. “i trusted you.”

she let out a breath, slow and tired. “same thing, sometimes.”

he didn’t argue. outside, the wind stirred through the trees. the forest watched with quiet eyes.

“if the nomad comes back,” sophia said after a long moment, “i’ll handle it.”

“not alone.”

she gave him a look. “you gonna stop me?”

his silence was enough. sophia moved toward the door of the office, her steps soft but sharp as she turned to leave. she knew yoonchae and daniela were probably listening in from whatever room of the house they holed up in, but she didn’t care. 

she disappeared, letting her feet carry her soundlessly out of the room and up the stairs. her footsteps were already fading, swallowed by the house and the forest beyond.

through all of it, she couldn't shake you from her mind. 

__

you didn’t expect her to actually follow through with her words the next day. 

school was cancelled, a nasty downpour the night before having caved in part of the roof near the front entrance. the announcement came early, just after sunrise, and you stared at the email for a while before letting yourself sink back into bed. if you were being honest, you felt a little disappointed.

you’d have much rather been at school. instead, you were home alone. once upon a time, the idea of skipping a day would’ve thrilled you. now, the silence felt heavier than it should have, the loneliness creeping in just as sharply as the cold seeping through the windows.

you’d need to stomach this loneliness until friday. 

jaehyun was still in the hospital. being in his house without him felt strange, wrong in a way you couldn’t quite name. it made your stomach twist, filled your chest with a nervous kind of energy that wouldn’t settle. maybe it was the stillness, or maybe it was something else. something a little darker. a little more superstitious.

and now here you were, standing in the middle of his garage in front of the old blue truck, hands on your hips as you studied the open hood like it might offer answers. the engine stared back, silent and stubborn. the garage door was wide open behind you, letting in the cold. rain tapped softly against the concrete and gravel outside. the quiet wasn’t so empty out here. it felt almost like company. 

you leaned over the truck, stretching to reach a bolt that had slipped into the tangle of metal and wires. your fingers brushed it, but your footing gave way, sending you lurching forward. your face was only inches from striking a jagged piece of metal jutting out from the bumper.

only, you didn’t hit it.

a cold hand caught you around the waist, steadying you with a quiet firmness that made your breath catch. you were pulled back gently, just enough to stop the fall, and the sudden closeness had your heart stumbling in your chest.

you turned in her arms, eyes lifting instinctively, already wide with surprise.

no amount of words could ever do sophia laforteza justice, especially not now, with her standing so close you could feel the cool brush of her breath. her beauty wasn’t just striking, it was disarming. your gaze flicked helplessly between the soft curve of her glossy lips and the sharp, unreadable gleam in her golden eyes. you tried to stop yourself, but it was like your body had a will of its own. heat crept up your neck and settled in your cheeks, and suddenly it was hard to remember how to breath.

after a beat, sophia stepped back, her expression giving nothing away. she withdrew her hand from your waist like your touch had stung her, as if the warmth of your skin was something she couldn’t bear.

“you should be more careful,” she said, voice flat,  bored.

“rright,” you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath.

sophia leaned over the open hood, her movements smooth and effortless. with barely a glance, she plucked the bolt from the engine with nimble fingers. she lingered for a moment, eyes scanning the mess of wires and metal, expression distant, thoughtful.

you couldn’t help watching her. the way the light hit her cheekbone. the quiet focus in her face. 

“what?”

her question made you jump, startled. 

“nothing,” you said quickly, shifting your weight onto the balls of your feet with a small, nervous hum. “i just didn’t think you’d actually come back.”

“i said i would.”

“sure, but… sometimes people say things just to be nice.”

sophia turned her head slightly, just enough to glance at you over her shoulder.

“would you have preferred i didn’t?”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t have to. the silence settled between you, quiet and telling.

sophia held your gaze for a second longer, then turned away without waiting for a reply. she moved around the truck with quiet purpose, her fingers brushing over wires and metal like she knew exactly what she was doing.

whatever she was doing, you didn’t understand it. not even a little. the parts might as well have been from a spaceship. still, there was something weirdly calming about watching her work. methodical, focused, silent. she didn’t fill the quiet with small talk, and somehow, that made her presence feel even louder.

“you said you know some things about cars?” you asked, half question and half statement, more to break the tension than anything else. 

she didn’t look up. “enough.”

you lingered by the passenger side, arms crossed loosely, watching as she tightened something with a firm click. the quiet stretched again, a little longer this time, and the more you stood there, the more her clipped replies started to grate.

“still as talkative as yesterday, i see.” you said, only half joking.

sophia didn’t look at you, but you saw her shoulders rise with a slow breath. she paused, tools resting in her hand.

“i just don’t waste words,” she said finally. “but if you’re asking…”

she straightened up and wiped her fingers on the side of her jeans, smearing a bit of grease across the fabric.

“i picked things up here and there. mostly from people i don’t see anymore.”

you caught the way her voice shifted at the end. not sad exactly, but distant. like the memories had teeth.

“they into cars?” you asked, a little softer now.

“one of them was,” she said, circling around to the driver’s side and popping the door open. “used to take things apart just to see if they could put them back together again. half the time they couldn’t. but i guess i paid more attention than i thought.”

you watched her settle into the seat, her fingers brushing over the steering wheel like she was remembering something she hadn’t planned to.

you waited a beat before speaking, not wanting to break whatever thread of memory was pulling her under. the rain kept falling outside, steady and low, tapping against the garage roof like a quiet reminder that the world was still moving.

“do you miss them?” you asked softly.

sophia’s hands stilled on the wheel. she glanced over at you, eyes sharper now, but there was something unreadable behind them.

“sometimes,” she said. “but not the people. just the parts of myself i lost with them.”

you weren’t sure how to respond, so you stayed quiet, letting the words hang between you.

after a moment, she pushed off from the seat and stood, stretching her arms above her head like she was shaking off more than just the cold.

“this truck’s going to be fine,” she said, her voice lighter now, almost like a promise. “you don’t have to worry.”

you nodded, feeling a little of the tight knot in your chest loosen.

“thanks,” you said, meaning it.

sophia gave a small, almost imperceptible nod before turning back to the engine, the tension in the garage easing like the rain outside slowing to a soft drizzle.

‎ 

you didn’t expect the rhythm that settled over the next few days. from tuesday through thursday, the routine stayed the same. sophia arrived early and left late. every moment you spent together felt like something rare and important, even if it was just small, quiet things.

bit by bit, you started to chip away at the walls she kept so tightly around herself. beneath the guarded surface, you caught glimpses of someone real. someone more than just the distant, untouchable girl you thought she was. the days blurred together in a quiet kind of montage. you weren’t much help when it came to the actual repairs, but sophia never seemed to mind. she did the work, sleeves pushed up, hair tied back, smudges of grease blooming across her hands and wrists like war paint. you stood nearby, passing her tools when she asked, learning the names by repetition.

“socket wrench,” she’d say without looking up.

you’d hesitate, glance at the cluttered tray, then hold something out. “this one?”

she’d take it, brush of fingers against yours, then nod. “close enough.”

sometimes she’d explain what she was doing, but only if you asked. 

“why are you tightening that again?”

“because the last person who touched this engine was clearly guessing.”

“was it you?“

she gave you a look, then cracked the faintest smile. or at least, the closest thing to a smile you’d ever seen yet. 

other times, the silence between you was companionable. she’d hum under her breath while working, not quite a tune but something steady and soft. you found yourself watching her more than you probably should have, fascinated by how sure her hands were, how focused her expression stayed even when something wasn’t going right.

it didn’t matter that she barely spoke unless you asked her something directly, or that most of her answers came out in short, clipped phrases. it didn’t matter that she moved through each day like she was carrying secrets she’d never let anyone touch. none of it made a difference. if anything, it just made her more magnetic.

you tried to focus on the truck. really, you did. but your eyes kept betraying you. they’d drift back to her face without permission, tracing the slope of her jaw, the way her brows pinched slightly when she concentrated. but it was her lips that you kept coming back to, over and over again.

plump and glossy, like she’d just bitten down on them. they caught the light in the strangest ways, like they were made to be noticed. it was infuriating. you’d look away, pretend to be fiddling with a wrench or wiping grease off your hands, only to glance back and find her in some new angle of lighting that made her look even more ethereal.

and still, she never seemed to notice. she never caught you staring, never called you out. maybe she didn’t care. maybe she was used to it.

whatever the reason, it left you feeling off balance. flustered in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. and yet, you kept your head together. kept handing her tools. kept watching her lips move when she muttered to herself under her breath.

you were in trouble, and you were starting to think you liked it.

wednesday had slipped by in a quiet rhythm of rain and the steady clink of tools against metal. sophia moved through the work like it was second nature, replacing parts, changing oil, hotwiring with a precision that left you wordless. her focus never wavered, eyes narrowed at the mess of wires beneath the hood, grease smudged across her knuckles.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that she spoke, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

“tell me about you,” she said, eyes still on the engine, not even glancing your way.

you blinked, thrown for a second by the suddenness of it.

“what do you want to know?”

“whatever you want to tell me.”

you hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. her tone was light, almost careless, but you knew she was listening. you could feel her attention like a thread pulled tight between you.

“and what about you?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “do i get any kind of peek into your life if i give you a glimpse into mine?”

this time, she did look at you. just for a second. long enough to make it clear she was weighing your words. then she gave a small nod, like a quiet agreement.

it was all the invitation you needed.

“i don’t know where to start,” you admitted, your voice soft.

“what happened to your brother?” she asked not even a second later. 

you flinched. not at the question itself, but at how directly she asked it. it was clearly a question she’d wanted to ask since monday. 

“getting right to the point, huh?”

“i don’t see the point in dancing around anything,” she said, tone even.

you let out a slow breath, your eyes drifting to the floor. the memory still hurt, raw in places you hadn’t expected.

“i don’t really know, if i’m being honest,” you said finally. “he was at work one minute, and the next i got a call saying he passed in transit. no details. just that it happened suddenly. cardiac arrest, i think. i didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

sophia didn’t say anything at first. just looked at you, expression unreadable.

“you would’ve wanted to?” she asked eventually.

“i mean… yeah. wouldn’t you?”

she went quiet again, her gaze dropping slightly. then she bit the inside of her cheek like she was holding something back.

“i think sometimes,” she started, her voice quieter now, “saying nothing is easier than saying goodbye forever. there’s nothing quite like the pain of looking someone in the eye, knowing it’s the last time you ever will.”

you studied her for a long moment.

“you’ve lost a lot of people?” you asked.

she nodded once, barely noticeable.

“a few that mattered,” she said. then she turned back to the engine like the conversation hadn’t just cracked something open between you. but you knew it had. you felt it.

trying to unravel sophia laforteza still hurt your brain, but it no longer felt impossible.

something had shifted. slowly, she was letting you in. not all at once and not in any way that made sense, but it was there. in the quiet moments, in the spaces between her words, in the way she asked things like they mattered.

she had this habit of looking at you sideways when you went quiet, her voice soft but steady.

“what are you thinking about?”

she asked it often. sometimes in the middle of a conversation, sometimes out of nowhere. it was as if she needed to know, like understanding what went on in your head helped her understand the world a little better too.

she listened with every part of her. even when her hands were occupied, buried in the engine or fiddling with wires, you could feel her attention anchored to your words. she’d nod slightly, make small noises of acknowledgment, ask follow up questions that made it clear she remembered every detail you’d told her the day before.

and you found yourself telling her more.

you told her about the ache that had lived in your chest since your brother died. how some days, it felt like carrying around a stone. how other days, you just felt numb. you told her about your favorite childhood memory. about the first time you got your heart broken. about the way forks made you feel like a stranger, even in places you were starting to remember from when you were a child.

she listened. always.

sometimes, she gave you pieces of herself too. not full stories, but fragments. a name she used to call someone. a place she said she’d never go back to. a song she hated because it reminded her of something she couldn’t forget.

but it was on thursday that everything shifted. 

the morning started like the ones before it. the sky was a dull stretch of grey, the rain falling in that soft, misty way forks seemed to specialize in. sophia showed up just past eight, same as always, with her hoodie pulled up and her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. she didn’t say much when she walked into the garage, she rarely did, but you could feel the difference in the air. something quiet was building.

you handed her the wrench she asked for, then watched as she crouched near the open hood. she was focused, more than usual. no humming under her breath, no questions. just quiet, deliberate work. you stood beside her, arms crossed and heart thudding with anticipation you didn’t quite understand.

finally, around midafternoon, she wiped her hands off on a rag and stepped back.

“get in,” she said simply, nodding toward the driver’s seat.

“what?”

“just turn the key. i want to see something.”

you glanced at the truck, then back at her. she looked calm, but you could see the flicker of something behind her eyes. hope, maybe.

you slid into the seat and wrapped your fingers around the cold metal of the keys. took a breath. turned.

the engine sputtered. coughed. and then, with a rough, ragged growl, it came to life.

your eyes went wide.

“holy shit,” you breathed, half laughing, half stunned. “you did it. it’s running.”

“not road ready yet,” sophia shrugged. “but the engine’s holding. better than i thought it would.”

you stared at her, something catching in your throat. before you could stop yourself, before you could even think twice, you turned the engine back off and stepped out of the car. you launched forward and wrapped your arms around her before she could fully register what you were doing. 

she was freezing cold, as usual. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

it wasn’t graceful. her body tensed immediately in your arms, caught off guard, but you didn’t pull away. you didn’t want to.

“thank you,” you whispered, voice muffled against her shoulder. “seriously. thank you.”

for a second, you thought she might recoil, might tell you to back off. but then, slowly, you felt her exhale, something close to surrender. her arms came up around you, hesitant.

when you pulled back to look up at her, however, that’s when you saw it. staring up at her now, you weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it sooner. 

the question slipped before you could stop it. 

“are you wearing contacts?”

sophia froze. it was so subtle that anyone else might’ve missed it. but you didn’t. not when she was standing so close to you, not when your arms moved from her shoulders down to your own sides. her posture went rigid, like someone had hit pause.

“what?”

you tilted your head, studying her more closely.

“your eyes,” you said slowly. “they’re… different today. they’re black.”

she didn’t blink. didn’t move. her face was unreadable, and for the first time since the hospital drive, the silence between you wasn’t comfortable. it was tight, almost suffocating.

“they were golden yesterday,” you added, your voice quieter now. “like, this really warm honey color. now they’re just… pitch black.”

she turned away from you, stepping back toward the truck. she reached for the rag she left on the trucks hood, busying herself with its flimsy fabric. 

“bad sleep,” she muttered. “happens sometimes. lighting’s weird in here anyway.”

but you knew it wasn’t the lighting. her answer, so clipped, so carefully neutral, only made the curiosity burn hotter.

“right,” you said, not quite believing her. “sure.”

she glanced back at you then, and her expression was tight. guarded.

“don’t read into things that aren’t there.”

you swallowed hard. something about her tone made a sharp pang shoot through you. it almost sounded like a warning. she was clearly trying to shut the conversation down. 

but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. no one’s eyes changed color like that. not from honey to ink overnight.

nonetheless, you nodded with a relenting shrug, pretending to let it go. if sophia noticed the hesitation in your silence, she didn’t say anything.

instead, she cleared her throat and turned back to face you. 

“anyway,” she said gently, like the last few minutes hadn’t happened, “think you could help me get the bumper back on the truck?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the shift. but maybe that was the point.

you followed her around the front end, where the dented bumper leaned awkwardly against the wheel well. you lifted your half of the metal sheeting carefully while she lifted the other, angling it upwards. but then you stopped. 

a sudden, sharp sting sliced through your hand. reflexively, you dropped your half with a sharp wince, your face tightening as pain flared. you’d grabbed the edge just wrong where a jagged corner pressed cruelly into your skin, cutting just deep enough that a thin line of blood welled up and began to drip. your free hand shot up instinctively, curling around the wounded one, fingers tightening into a protective grip as you pressed gently to stem the bleeding. the sting lingered, a sharp reminder that even small carelessness could leave its mark.

sophia stiffened, her eyes flickering to your hand.

“s-shit, sorry,” you muttered, biting back a grimace. “cut myself.”

you didn’t notice the shift in her, too absorbed in the sting and the sudden heat spreading through your palm, but it was there all the same.

sophia’s eyes stayed fixed on the thin ribbon of blood slowly welling from your hand. her breath caught, subtle but sharp, like the soft intake before a predator tenses to strike. except she didn’t move. she just watched, silent, her gaze unreadable but intense, like she was weighing something far beyond the simple cut. inside, sophia’s mind churned, a thousand quiet alarms flickering to life.

blood. the pulse of something alive, raw and undeniable. to her, it was a beacon in the dark. a soundless scream only creatures like her could hear. and you, standing there unaware, were bleeding right in front of her.

she fought the flicker of instinct that rose like a tide just beneath the surface. the hunger, the temptation, the ancient pull. it was the same rush she had felt countless times before, but this time it was tangled with something else, something unfamiliar and distracting. 

her eyes didn’t waver, but the weight behind them deepened. she was silent, still, but the room seemed to shrink around that bleeding hand. a tightness curled in her chest, a warning she barely understood herself. this wasn’t just a cut. it was a fracture in whatever fragile balance had brought you here.

then your voice, low and almost hesitant, broke the tension.

“… sophia?”

she blinked, caught off guard by the softness, the hesitance in your tone. for a fraction of a second, her mask cracked and you saw something flicker. something unreadable, raw. she swallowed hard, the moment stretching tight. 

then she turned away.

“i need to go.”

just like that, the fragile bubble shattered.

you watched her retreat from the garage, confusion tightening around your ribs. her figure slipped past the shadows, fading into the dim light beyond the open door. your gaze lingered on the empty space she’d left behind, questions hanging unsaid. by the time you blinked and reached for a clean rag, pressing it carefully over the cut on your hand, it was too late. you were a breath away from calling out to her, a “wait” hanging on the tip of your tongue. only when you turned, she was already gone.

no volvo in the driveway. no hum of an engine. just silence. and you, alone with the steady pulse in your palm and the louder, faster one in your chest.

but sophia knew.

her hands were clenched so tight around the steering wheel that the leather groaned beneath her grip. the moment the car peeled away from your street, the pressure in her chest exploded into something uncontainable. her foot slammed against the gas pedal, hard enough to make the tires threaten a screech. she hadn’t meant to look. hadn’t meant to breathe it in.

but god, it was everywhere. your blood in the air was static, sweet and warm and alive.

a curse left her under her breath, sharp and venom laced, because now she knew.

you were her bloodsinger.

the one scent that pierced every inch of restraint she’d built over a century. the one person whose blood called to her more than anything in the world.

and the one person she could never afford to be near again.

__

you barely slept.

your mind kept looping back to the moment in the garage, over and over, trying to stitch it together in a way that made sense. one second sophia was helping, quiet but present. the next, she looked at you like something broke inside her. like something changed. then she left, not just from the garage, but completely.

you took the bus to school the next morning, the scenery blurring past the window as your thoughts dragged behind. the email sent out by admin that morning had you lazily getting yourself ready, your hand throbbing faintly with every pulse, the bandage hidden in your sleeve. but it wasn’t the cut that bothered you. it was her.

by the time you made it to first period, it was obvious. sophia wasn’t there.

you tried not to care, you really did. but every empty chair you passed, every glance toward the hallway, every shift of footsteps behind you, it only made it worse.

worse still were the looks.

daniela sat near the windows during lunch, this time accompanied by a young korean girl. yoonchae, probably. they were quiet, unreadable. yoonchae toyed with a strand of her hair, eyes flicking up toward you now and then when she thought you weren’t looking. daniela barely touched her food. at one point, you thought you caught her whispering something, and though you couldn’t hear it, you felt it had to do with you.

you thought about asking them. hey, have you seen sophia?  but the words never made it out of your mouth. it felt like if you asked, you’d be confirming that something was wrong.

so you didn’t. not for the entire week that she was missing. 

a week. that’s how long it had been since you last saw her.

her absence stitched through the days like a thread you couldn’t pull loose, and it was starting to wear on you. you weren’t even sure why it bothered you so much. 

she’d been nothing but cold. polite when she had to be, distant when she didn’t. her words, when she used them, came clipped and careful, like she was always weighing what not to say. you couldn’t remember a single moment where she’d genuinely smiled at you. not really. not in the way that would make someone miss her this much.

maybe it was those strange moments that stuck with you. like the quiet hum you caught under her breath when she thought no one was listening. there’d been flickers of something softer beneath all that guarded silence, a flick of her gaze lingering a second too long, the way her fingers brushed yours when you handed over a wrench and she didn’t pull away right away. nothing obvious. nothing she’d ever admit to.

but enough to make you wonder.

maybe you’d just grown fond of the mystery. or maybe it was the way she made the world feel tilted sideways, like something was just out of reach but still waiting to be found.

either way, her absence was louder than it should’ve been. you were starting to hate how much space she’d taken up without even trying.

sure enough, your friends were starting to notice. 

they cornered you during lunch, plopping down at your usual table like they were staging an intervention. lara crossed her arms, staring you down.

“okay, spill. you’ve been moody all week. who took a shit in your cereal?”

you stabbed at your salad with the kind of intensity that probably answered her question before you even opened your mouth.

“it’s nothing.”

“please,” lara scoffed. “you’re more obvious than megan when she was sneaking out of classes to do crack in the bathrooms.”

megan gasped. “i have never done crack!”

“relax, mei. i just like spreading misinformation. we all know you were skipping classes to meet with—”

“okay, okay,” megan cut in fast, waving her hands. “let’s not talk about him, yeah? god, i’d rather you accused me of doing cocaine. thinking about him gives me chills.”

“so.” manon leaned in, eyes curious, her chin propped on her hand. “what’s going on?”

you hesitated, picking at a thread on your sleeve. it was stupid. it felt stupid. but your chest was heavy with it.

“well… i’ve been getting help from someone with repairing my brother’s car. but she’s been a no show all week. i think i might’ve done something to scare her away.”

lara raised a brow. “who?”

you sighed. “…sophia.”

lara blinked. “you’re shitting me.”

“no,” you said quickly, wincing. “i’m being serious. please don’t make it a big deal, i don’t know if i can deal with another headache.”

lara snorted. “what did you do? did you overshare one too many traumatic secrets?”

“did you call her by another girl’s name?” manon added with a smirk.

megan grinned, eyes sparkling. “maybe she’s just hiding from you because her big, bad, icey heart doesn’t know how to handle you.”

“yeah,” manon chimed, leaning dramatically across the table. “i bet she wants nothing more than to just pinch your cheeks and smooch you all over.”

they all puckered their lips obnoxiously, making exaggerated kissing sounds as they leaned toward you in unison.

you groaned. “i hate you guys.”

“hate us later. right now,” lara said, hopping to her feet, “walk with us, talk with us.”

“we are sitting,” manon deadpanned.

lara waved her off. “semantics.” then, back to you, “why do you think she’s been dodging school because of you?”

“i don’t know,” you muttered, sinking back in your seat. “i guess i’m just thinking too hard into it.”

“honestly, you probably are,” manon said, chewing her straw. “it’s kind of their thing, too. they usually disappear for periods of time. all of them. something about vacationing in olympia. especially when the sun comes out.”

the sun..? interesting, you thought. 

“i heard dr. insung has a home in the mountains,” megan offered casually.

lara raised a brow at her. “yeah, i’m sure you’ve also heard his blood type, date of birth, and entire bloodline spanning the last fourteen generations.”

megan didn’t even blink. “hey, i’m a simple girl.”

“yeah. a simple freak of one,” 

they launched into another round of bickering, tossing harmless insults across the table with practiced ease.

but their voices faded under the buzz in your head. you stared past them, absently scratching at the bandage beneath your sleeve.

sophia’s face flickered in your memory. how still she’d gone, how strange her eyes had looked. the way she left like the air had suddenly gone toxic.

you laughed along with your friends when the moment called for it. but still, something didn’t sit right. something was off.

you just didn’t know what.

‎ 

you hadn’t meant to dig. not at first. it just… happened.

you were lying awake last night, the events of that friday catching up to you. megan, lara and manon’s bickering still rang through your mind. somewhere between trying to fall asleep and tossing in your sheets for the third time, your thoughts had drifted, again, to the glossy lipped filipina who had been haunting the edges of your mind since the day you met her. and with her came everything else. the strange comments, the too quiet silences, the weight in her gaze that made you feel like she saw something in you you couldn’t name.

you were staring up at your ceiling when it hit you. 

no matter how many times you told yourself to drop it, your curiosity kept clawing its way back. something about sophia didn’t add up. and you were tired of pretending you didn’t want to know why.

how cold her hand had been when you passed her the car jack. how cold they’d been when they brushed over yours in the mid console of her volvo. 

the way her eyes were a shade of gold one day, and pitch black the next. 

the way she seemed to go long periods of time in your garage without even breathing, her shoulders stiff and her body unmoving. now that you thought about it, had you ever even seen her eat?

the way she opened up the garage door the night she drove you home from the hospital as if it was nothing, one arm and all. 

you sat at your desk and turned on the old box computer, a hand-me-down jaehyun gave you for your studies. 

cold skin, sudden strength, weird eyes. cold hands, no breathing, what does it mean. gold eyes then black eyes. 

you typed whatever came to mind. yahoo offered you vague medical articles, some half baked conspiracy threads. you kept searching anyway.

you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. and yet, you found yourself down rabbit holes, clicking links you probably shouldn’t.

low and behold, here you were now. you weren’t entirely sure what compelled you to take a bus out to port angeles on saturday. but somehow, without really thinking it through, you ended up standing in front of a bookstore tucked into a dimmer stretch of the street, the kind of place easy to overlook if you didn’t know to look.

you glanced down at the crumpled sheet of paper in your hand, the ink smudged in places from how many times you’d folded and unfolded it. you’d scrawled it out late last night in a restless haze of clicking links and half formed questions that you couldn’t seem to let go of.

you walked into the book store, a wealthy resource of information into the ‘supernatural and occult’. you almost scoffed a laugh at the absurdity of it all, but thought against it when the bell jingled and the man at the front desk smiled widely. 

you had to have looked through at least seven books before one finally caught your interest. a blue book with an image of a tribal figure on its front, an intricate pattern on its back. when you flipped it open to the index page, you read the title under your breath. quileute tribe legends. 

it was exactly what you were looking for. a book title you’d seen mentioned time and time again over the various articles you read, a common factor to all the chaos. 

by the time you made it back home, it was half past nine. as soon as you sat at your desk, you started reading. back and forth between the book and more yahoo’ing, somehow you came out with more questions than you had answers. 

half the pages made you feel ridiculous. stories about creatures that drank blood and never aged. tales of people who could break bones like twigs and vanish into trees. mentions of werewolves and treaties, and ancient blood pacts. 

you almost dismissed it all. almost. 

the memory of the figure in the woods that attacked jaehyun rooted itself in the center of your mind before you could stop it. fast, red eyed, crimson coated mouth. hell, even the sound of the howl in the distance before it took off into a sprint too fast for your eyes to see. 

you’d never felt sicker. 

you hadn’t slept a wink since saturday night. not even for a moment. your brain wouldn’t shut off. it kept circling back to everything you’d read that night. folklore, eyewitness accounts, medical anomalies that didn’t line up. things that sounded like fiction until you thought about her. about the eyes. about the silence. about the way she disappeared like a ghost just when you started to notice too much.

whatever feelings you had, however, would need to go on hold. at least for now. 

at some point sunday night, jaehyun came home. 

he moved slower than usual, still wobbling from whatever had happened in the woods. his steps were uneven, and every now and then, he’d wince like a sharp ache had settled somewhere deep beneath his skin. still, his coy smile never once strayed. 

“you look like i feel. shitty.” jaehyun grinned the moment you walked downstairs, the two of you already falling back into the comfortable rhythm you found before he was hospitalized. 

you didn’t go to school that day. the entire day was spent back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, making sure jaehyun had everything he needed. he tried to shoo you off, but of course you didn’t listen. 

there was a pause, then you nodded in the direction of the dingy garage. “i’ve been working on the truck.”

it was a lame excuse, but anything was better than giving him the truth. the last thing you wanted was to sit down and ramble like a nutjob, to have him commit you over something you weren’t even a hundred-percent sure was real. 

jaehyun’s eyes lit up a little. “yeah? how’s it looking?”

“engine’s good. she’s still busted, but i think we’re getting there.”

his eyebrows raised, half teasing, half knowing. “we…?”

you froze. he wiggled his shoulders, cooing. he continued after a quick second. 

“who exactly has been keeping you company while i’ve been away? when do i get to meet them? oh, i can see it already. a little wedding down by la push. me and the truck will be sitting side by side in the aisles-“

you cut him off with a loud groan, covering your ears with both hands as you stood to your feet. you ignored his dry, croaky laughter and beelined for the garage. 

“this is my queue to get out of here. have fun dying.” you didn’t give him time to respond before you were already gone, practically locking yourself in the garage. 

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the silence took over once more. you welcomed it. your eyes were practically glued to the floor as you stepped around the blue truck, your thoughts running rampant in your mind. 

only, your head snapped up immediately when you heard the faint inhale of breath by the rolling door, already open and letting in the numbing cold. 

sophia. 

you froze. you knew enough now to be nervous, or at least you thought you did. maybe you should’ve even been scared.but then there she was. leaning against the garage wall like she hadn’t vanished off the face of the earth for a week, like the cold didn’t touch her, like she hadn’t been haunting your every thought since she left. her eyes flicked up the moment yours did.

you didn’t know what you were expecting. bloodstained lips? glowing eyes? a cruel smile that said you figured it out, now what?

what you got was worse. she was still so numbingly, breathtakingly beautiful. you didn’t say anything at first. you found your voice a moment later, your throat suddenly dry.

“where’ve you been?”

she looked at you intently, an unreadable expression embedded across her face. “around.”

you took a step closer. the words came out quiet, but they still filled the space between you.

“why now? why show up today?”

she shrugged, like it was nothing. like the answer should have been obvious. “you weren’t at school.”

you blinked. “you’re suddenly going again?”

“i was away. olympia. some family issues.” she said it smoothly, almost rehearsed.

“i don’t believe you.”

she didn’t argue. she didn’t even flinch. just let the silence settle again, the way she always did when she didn’t want to lie but didn’t want to tell the truth either. 

maybe it was the way she looked at you, still and unreadable, or maybe it was just the past week of silence finally cracking something inside you, but the next words came before you could stop them. they just slipped out.

“you’re cold. you’re strong. your eyes are gold again. you don’t eat. you’re gorgeous.”

the last one barely came out. but it was true. painfully so.

she didn’t react at first. just stood there, her face perfectly calm. but her eyes told a different story. they looked tired. not the kind of tired that sleep could fix, but the kind that came from running too long and finally hitting a wall. it was like she had been waiting for this. like she had seen it coming, but still hoped it wouldn’t.

you stepped forward again. your chest felt tight.

“i know what you are.”

that was when she moved. barely. just tilted her head and pushed off the wall with a quiet motion. she stayed where she was, though. the space between you remained, but it felt different now. charged.

“say it.”

you looked at her for a long moment. the cold bit at your skin, but you didn’t feel it. not really. your voice was quiet, steady. 

“you’re not human.”

she didn’t deny it. didn’t flinch. just looked at you like she’d been waiting a long time for you to finally understand.

“are you scared?”

the question hit you harder than it should have. 

were you?

 you read things you never thought you’d take seriously. stories. warnings. blood and immortality and creatures hiding behind beautiful faces. and sophia had every reason to terrify you. but she didn’t. you looked at her. really looked. her jaw was set like she was bracing for something. maybe rejection. maybe fear. maybe worse. and still, your answer came without hesitation.

“no.”

your voice shook, but the truth didn’t. you weren’t scared. not of her.

maybe there was something wrong with you. maybe you should’ve walked away and avoided the conversation all together, kicked her out of your garage and not looked back. but you didn’t. 

sophia looked back at you, her glossy lips parted as if she was surprised by your answer. but, your answer was all she needed. 

one moment she was standing still, and the next she was gone.

your eyes barely had time to register it. one blink and the space where she had been was empty, your brain scrambling to catch up. she moved so fast it almost hurt to look, like your vision couldn’t process what was happening in real time. you had only just started to turn your head when you felt her hands on you.

then everything blurred.

you didn’t even have the chance to speak before she scooped you up and swung you effortlessly onto her back. it was like your body stopped belonging to you, caught in the middle of something bigger and faster than it could understand.

she was running.

trees whipped past in streaks of green and brown, the cold air slashing across your face and stinging your eyes. you couldn’t catch your breath. not from fear, but from the sheer velocity. the wind roared in your ears. your stomach turned, your arms tightened around her shoulders, and for a second you thought you might throw up.

the ground beneath you was a blur, and the woods behind your house became a dizzying mess of movement and shadows.

your heart slammed against your ribs like it was trying to escape. your fingers dug into the fabric of her hoodie, holding on for dear life, the speed making your head spin and your thoughts scatter. you were lightheaded, unmoored, overwhelmed.

and still, she didn’t slow down.

she moved like nothing could stop her. like gravity didn’t matter. like she had done this a thousand times and would never get tired.

when she finally stopped, it was so sudden you didn’t realize it at first. one second the world was racing past you in a smear of color and cold air, the next it all just… ended. the silence hit you like a wall. your stomach lurched as your surroundings settled back into focus, the forest around you no longer a blur but still and quiet, dusted with frost and shadows.

she lowered you gently, her grip careful, like she was afraid you might break now that everything had gone still. your legs nearly gave out beneath you when your feet touched the ground, and for a moment all you could do was stand there, bracing yourself against the nearest tree, your lungs trying to remember how to breathe.

when you looked up, she was already facing you.

her expression wasn’t cold. it wasn’t empty. it was something worse.

somber. hesitant. like she was preparing herself for something she didn’t want to hear. like she thought this moment would change everything, and maybe she was right.

her eyes searched yours for something. understanding, maybe. forgiveness. you couldn’t tell.

the wind tugged at her hair as she stood there, perfectly still except for the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides. she looked like she wanted to speak, but didn’t know how. for the first time, you saw the smallest crack in the armor she always wore. something fragile and human flickering beneath everything else.

she looked at you like she was waiting for you to run. only you didn’t. 

when she finally spoke, her voice was careful, like each word had to pass through a gate she wasn’t sure she should open.

“i wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

you crossed your arms, more to anchor yourself than anything. “then why did you?”

she hesitated. not out of fear, exactly. more like conflict. like something inside her was tearing in two.

“because you already knew,” she said softly. “not everything, but enough.”

she wasn’t wrong. and still, hearing her say it made your throat tighten.

her gaze dropped then. “i’ve been trying to stay away. i thought it would help. i thought if i stayed gone long enough, it would fade.”

you tilted your head. “what would?”

sophia looked up, and something flickered across her face. raw and unguarded.

“you.”

the silence after that was heavy. you didn’t know what to say. didn’t even know how to feel. her voice had been almost a whisper, but it landed like a weight in your chest.

“you don’t even know me,” you said, not accusing, just confused.

“i know enough,” she said. then she looked away again, like the truth tasted bitter. “i knew the second i smelled your blood.”

your stomach dropped. she must have seen it on your face, because she quickly held up a hand.

“i’m not going to hurt you.”

you wanted to believe her. god, you did. you swallowed. “is that why you’ve been so distant?”

“it’s why i haven’t let myself get closer,” she said. “it’s why i left.”

you took a small step toward her. not enough to close the space, just enough to make her look at you again. you stared at her, and for the first time, you understood why she had been so cold. why she disappeared. why she kept herself at a distance even when her eyes said something else entirely.

“then why bring me here?”

she didn’t answer right away. when she did, you felt your chest ache. 

“because i couldn’t stay away any longer.”

you opened your mouth, then closed it again. nothing felt right. there were too many questions tangled behind your ribs, all of them fighting to be first. so you settled for the one that had been sitting heavy in your chest since the second she reappeared.

“what happens now?”

sophia’s expression shifted. not softer exactly, but quieter. like the edge she always carried had dulled just a little.

“that depends,” she said.

“on what?”

“on whether you want to know the truth,” she murmured. “all of it.”

you watched her carefully. the way her shoulders tensed, the way her fingers curled slightly against her coat like she was bracing for impact. like part of her was still waiting for you to run.

“i already know enough to be scared,” you admitted. “but i’m still here.”

something flickered in her eyes at that. not surprise. not relief. something else. something deeper.

“then come with me.”

you blinked. “where?”

she didn’t answer. she simply turned on her heel, expecting you to follow. you did. whatever the truth was, you knew it had teeth. but something deep in your still-beating heart knew sophia wouldn't let it bite you. 

not if she could help it, at least.

part one