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brunchable · 8 months ago

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How To Impress a 21st Century Girl.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Themes: Rom-Com, Fluff, Mutual Pining(Heavy?), First Date, Flirtation and Playfulness.

Summary: Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.

A/N: I'm a sucker for rom-coms, I hope you guys enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it.

tags: @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917

It had all been Sam’s idea. "Come on, man. You need to get back out there!" Sam had said, way too enthusiastically, while setting up a Tinder profile for him without even asking. Bucky had resisted at first, arguing that dating apps probably weren't his thing. But Sam was persistent, reminding him that it was 2024, not 1944, and that "no one meets in grocery stores anymore."

Reluctantly, Bucky had gone along with it, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try. What was the worst that could happen?

Well, now he knew.

Bucky was starting to think Tinder was out to get him. His first two dates had been disasters—and not just normal awkwardness, but spectacularly bad. The first girl, Jenny, had brought her ex-boyfriend to the date. Apparently, he was her ride, and they were still "good friends." Bucky had spent two hours third-wheeling a reunion he hadn’t signed up for. The second girl, Alicia, had a collection of ceramic frogs. And when Bucky said “collection,” he meant obsession. The girl spent an entire dinner showing him photos of different frog figurines. It was ribbiting. Literally. One of them even made croaking sounds.

So, now here he was, on date number three, standing outside some trendy café, wondering what fresh nightmare awaited him. This time, though, he’d let you plan the date. Maybe handing over control would be better than having to smile through another amphibian-themed dinner.

You showed up right on time, and Bucky was genuinely relieved to see no ex-boyfriend hovering in the background. You were wearing a paneled knit dress with spaghetti straps that hugged you just right, and your short hair was perfectly tousled. You smiled at him, but the look on your face told him you were just as unsure as he was.

“Hi,” you greeted, and Bucky instantly forgot every single normal response. Holy shit he is TALL.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” he mumbled back. He was really nailing this whole dating thing.

You walked inside, and the café had that minimalist vibe. A lot of plants. A lot of exposed brick. The kind of place where you’re not sure if you’re supposed to sit or admire the interior design.

As you both sat down, Bucky tried to channel his inner suave. He could do this. He had faced way worse than an awkward date. Like alien invasions. Like that one time he lost his arm again. This was nothing.

Except... why was talking to an attractive woman harder than fighting off super soldiers?

“I, uh, like your dress,” Bucky said, already feeling the heat creep up his neck. Nice, Barnes, real original.

“Thanks,” you replied, with an amused smile playing on your lips. “I like your... jacket.”

Bucky nodded, looking down at his worn leather jacket. “Yeah. It’s... warm.”

Warm? That’s what you’re going with? He mentally slapped himself. This was going well. So well. He tried to change the subject and scanned the menu. “Uh... so, what’s good here?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “The internet said they have good coffee, though.”

“Internet reviews, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s always a gamble. Could be great... could be a disaster.”

Cue the awkward silence.

The waiter had barely placed the food in front of you both before the quiet tension stretched between you like you were sitting in a library, not a café. Bucky poked at his bagel as if it might come to life at any moment, while you took a delicate sip of your coffee, your eyes darting between him and the wall behind him.

You both chewed in the most nonchalant way possible, each of you hyper-aware of the silence that was growing louder by the second. You were mentally cursing every decision that led to this exact moment, and Bucky, for his part, was questioning whether retiring from the whole Avenger thing had been a mistake.

Say something. Anything, Bucky thought, taking another bite of his bagel, which suddenly felt like chewing rubber. Ask about herr favorite food? No, that’s boring. Comment on the weather? Oh, yeah, nothing like ‘Hey, it’s been cold lately,’ to really sweep her off her feet. Real smooth.

Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out how you managed to forget how to make normal conversation. Maybe ask him about his hobbies? No, that’s basic. Compliment his hair? What are you, in fifth grade? Pull yourself together!

Bucky, still chewing the world’s driest bagel, caught your eye for a split second, and you both did that polite half-smile thing that happens when you’re not sure whether you should talk or continue pretending to enjoy the food.

Did she just smile at me because I’m being awkward, or am I overthinking this? Bucky wondered, immediately breaking eye contact and pretending his coffee was the most fascinating thing on the table.

You, on the other hand, were screaming internally. Oh God, did I smile too weird? Was it the kind of smile that says, ‘I like you,’ or the one that says, ‘I’m trapped in this date and don’t know how to escape’?

You both took another sip of your drinks at the exact same time.

Alright, Barnes, get it together. Say something smart, Bucky told himself, putting his mug down carefully.

“So, uh... how’s your coffee?”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for a response. How’s my coffee? It’s coffee. Just say it’s good. Don’t overthink it.

“It’s... good. How’s your bagel?”

Bucky looked down at the circular piece of bread like it had personally betrayed him. “It’s... round.”

Round? Really? You went with ‘round’? Smooth, real smooth, he chastised himself, nodding like he had just made the most profound statement about bagels ever.

Your lips twitched. Did he just describe his food as ‘round’? Okay, maybe I’m not the only one struggling here.

You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide your smile. God, this is like watching two middle schoolers on a first date.

You both glanced at each other again. Smile. Look away. Silence.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Alright, clearly, she thinks I’m a complete idiot. But it’s fine. I can recover. Just... find a topic. Literally any topic.

You picked at your napkin. Okay, maybe I should mention the escape room next. But what if he hates escape rooms? What if he thinks they’re boring? You cleared your throat slightly, ready to speak, but then—

Bucky cleared his throat at the same time. You both froze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

“You go first,” Bucky said quickly.

“No, no, you first,” you insisted, waving your hand.

Bucky’s brain blanked. He blinked, searching for anything to say. “Uh... did you... park nearby?”

You stared at him, and then a smile slowly spread across your face. Did he really just ask me about parking? You nodded. “No I–um took public transport. Did you?”

Bucky gave a stiff nod. “Yeah. Close. Very close. Super convenient.”

You both stared at each other for a beat, and then, in a miraculous moment, you both cracked up at the exact same time.

“Parking?” you laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the best we’ve got?”

Bucky held up his hands. “Hey, I panicked, okay? The bagel threw me off.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, your shoulders shaking with laughter. “And I thought the frogs were bad.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh harder. “Okay, in my defense, this date is way better than ceramic frogs.”

“Glad to be the non-frog date.” You raised your cup in mock salute.

You both chuckled, and for the first time, the awkward tension seemed to melt away. Sure, you were a bit of a mess, but at least you were a mess together.

As you calmed down, you leaned forward, a playful grin on your face. “So, what’s next? You ready for the escape room?”

“I dunno. Should I be worried?” Bucky smirked, feeling a lot lighter.

“Only if you’re bad at puzzles,” you teased.

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning back with a smirk. “Oh, trust me, I think I’ll manage.”

And with that, you both finally stood up to head for the next part of your date, the awkwardness left behind with the round bagel and the overly complicated coffee.

× × × ×

As soon as you stepped into the Asylum escape room, the mood shifted from "awkward first date" to "this might be how I die."

Oh, great. Creepy hospital décor. Perfect first-date vibes. You eyed the flickering lights and eerie medical tools scattered around the room, trying not to let on how much it was creeping you out. At least it’s better than ceramic frogs, you thought, glancing at Bucky.

“This is supposed to be the hardest escape room they have,” you said, glancing at Bucky. “Takes most people at least an hour. You ready for this?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean... it’s puzzles, right? How hard can it be?” Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. I’ve literally fought aliens. How bad could a few puzzles be?

“You’ve never done one of these before, right?” You looked at him, a bit skeptical.

He shook his head. “First time. But, uh... I’m good under pressure.” Under pressure? What am I saying? I sound like I’m about to defuse a bomb, not solve a riddle. Get a grip, Barnes.

“Alright. Let’s do this.” You smiled, trying to hide your own nerves.

The clock started ticking, and immediately, you were plunged into darkness. A loud creak echoed through the room, followed by a voice over the intercom: “Welcome to the Asylum. You have 60 minutes to escape. Good luck... you’ll need it.”

Perfect. Creepy voice? Check. Flickering lights? Check. Yep, I'm doomed. You moved toward a stack of papers, squinting at the dim lighting. “Okay, first thing’s first... we need to find the clues hidden in this room to unlock the door.”

Before you could even start, Bucky was already inspecting a random pipe on the wall. He tugged at it, and it came loose, revealing a hidden key taped to the back. Oh, that was... lucky? Or did I just break something?

You froze mid-step. “Wait. How did you—”

“I... uh... just pulled on it.” Bucky looked just as surprised as you. Did I just accidentally solve this?

“Okay. Lucky guess.” You stared at him.

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe.” Play it cool, Barnes. Don't look like you’re clueless here.

You both moved into the next room, which had even creepier décor. Faint writing on the walls, jars filled with unidentifiable things, and a mannequin in the corner that Bucky immediately side-eyed like it was going to jump out at you. Okay, I don’t trust that mannequin. Why’s it looking at me like that?

You picked up a piece of paper with some cryptic writing on it. “This says something about finding the light within the dark. I think it’s a clue. We need to—”

“Found it,” Bucky called out.

You turned to see him holding up a blacklight. How does he keep doing this?!

“They always hide something with a blacklight, right?” He grinned, flashing the light on the wall, revealing a series of glowing numbers. That’s a thing, right? People hide stuff with these lights all the time... right?

“Oh, you’re just full of ideas now, huh?” You crossed your arms, smirking.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. “Just... using my instincts.” Yep. Totally knew that.

You worked through the next few puzzles, but by "worked," what you really meant was Bucky accidentally stumbling into the solutions. Every time you tried to figure out a clue, Bucky would casually touch something, pull a lever, or press a random button that—surprise—opened the next door or revealed the next key. At first, you thought he was joking. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear: Bucky was somehow solving the escape room by sheer dumb luck—or so you thought.

This is starting to freak me out... Am I secretly a genius? Bucky thought.

At one point, you were trying to decipher a complicated code etched into the wall, mumbling to yourself about numerology and patterns, when Bucky—completely oblivious—pulled a book off the shelf, and a hidden door creaked open in the floor.

No. No way. “Are you—” You blinked. “Did you just—”

Bucky glanced at the open trapdoor, confused. “What? Was that not supposed to happen?”

You slapped your forehead. “No! I mean, yes, but—oh my God, Bucky, you’re breaking the game.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose!” Seriously, I just touched a book. How is that a thing?

You looked down at the trapdoor, then back at him. “What are you? A puzzle savant? Did you plan this?”

Bucky laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Nah, I just thought the book looked weird.” Great, now she thinks I’m some kind of escape room wizard.

You gaped at him. “The book looked weird?” Weird? Dude, I’m starting to think you have X-ray vision.

“I mean... yeah. It was dusty.” It wasn’t even that weird... or was it?

You squinted at him, hands on your hips. “You’re telling me you spotted a dusty book and thought, ‘Aha! Hidden door.’?”

“Isn’t that... what you’re supposed to do in these rooms?” Bucky shrugged, looking genuinely sorry. Please tell me that's how this works.

This man is unbelievable. You stared at him for a long moment before bursting out laughing. “Oh my God. You’re accidentally good at this. You’re just walking around solving stuff like you do this every weekend!”

Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad she’s laughing. “I swear I’ve never done this before.” This isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me this week.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified,” you teased, stepping closer to him. “You’re like a walking cheat code.” Sure, Sherlock. Whatever you say.

“Hey, I’m just here to help.” He smiled, clearly enjoying your reaction. At least she’s impressed. That’s something.

I think you might secretly be a robot. You shook your head, grinning. “Alright, escape room prodigy, let’s see if you can crack the last one.”

You entered the final room—a dimly lit chamber with a creepy-looking mannequin in the corner and random medical equipment scattered around. You narrowed your eyes.

“Okay, this is the hardest part. No way you’re going to just... guess your way out of this one.”

“Yeah, this one’s. . . tricky.” Bucky glanced around, clearly trying to look casual. Please don’t let me stumble into the solution again...

Please don’t let him find the solution immediately. Just this once.

You pointed at the mannequin. “We need to find a code hidden somewhere in this room. The clue says it’s ‘locked in the mind.’ So it has to be something mental, right? Like a puzzle?”

Bucky stared at the mannequin for a second, then slowly reached out and twisted its head off. Inside, there was a slip of paper with the code on it. Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Are you KIDDING me?!” Your jaw dropped.

“I just thought... you know... maybe the head comes off?” Bucky held up the paper, looking sheepish.

Why am I even here?! You threw your hands up in the air. “Of COURSE the head comes off! Because that makes total sense! Sure!”

Bucky bit back a laugh. “Well, it did say ‘locked in the mind.’” Technically, I was right.

You glared at him, then shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “Okay, that’s it. You’re banned from escape rooms. You ruin them.”

“Ruined it?” Bucky asked, grinning. “We escaped, didn’t we?” She’s totally impressed, even if she won’t admit it.

“We escaped in twelve minutes, Bucky! Twelve!” You slapped his arm playfully. “That’s not normal!”

He laughed, ducking his head. “Sorry?” Guess I’m not so bad at this ‘fun date’ thing.

As you both stepped out of the escape room, the staff was standing there, looking like they’d just witnessed the impossible.

“You’re... done?” Pink-haired Girl asked, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Wow. They look like I just told them Santa isn’t real, Bucky thought.

You, just as confused, looked over at Bucky. “Uh. . .yeah, I guess?”

“Looks like it.” Bucky gave a casual shrug. No big deal. Just casually shattering dreams.

Clipboard Guy checked his stopwatch again, his mouth hanging open. “Twelve minutes. No. That’s not possible. People are supposed to break down in there. We’ve had people cry!”

Cry? What is this, an escape room or emotional boot camp? “You want me to go back in and tear up a little? You know, for the full experience?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“People have left that room emotionally damaged. You just... strolled out.” Pink-haired Girl blinked.

You stared at Bucky, still wrapping your head around it. “I didn’t even get through the first clue, and you were already unlocking half the room.”

“You were working hard. I just sped things up a bit.” Bucky chuckled softly, glancing at you with a playful smile. I mean, you were giving it a solid effort...

The Master of Puzzles guy appeared, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Did you... have the answers beforehand? Because that’s the hardest room we’ve got. We’ve had people rage-quit in there.”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking amused. “Nah, just good at finding my way out of things.”

“I didn’t even do anything. You solved the whole thing!” You shook your head, still half-laughing, half in disbelief.

“Hey, you were a great moral support.” Bucky smiled at you, nudging you lightly. Seriously, though, it’s good to have someone to watch while I dismantle a room’s dignity.

Clipboard Guy muttered, “We’re gonna have to ban him. He’s banned.”

Oh no, I’ve ruined their sacred puzzle temple.

“He broke the hardest room we’ve got. Who even does that?” Pink-haired Girl nodded, still dumbfounded.

“Well, I’d offer to go back and struggle a bit, but... I don’t think it’d be convincing.” Bucky smirked, leaning casually against the counter. Trust me, I can’t fake being bad at something. Even if I tried.

As you headed for the exit, Bucky held the door open for you, giving the staff one last glance before he leaned over to you, voice low.

“What? You wanted to be stuck in there all night?”

“Honestly? It would’ve been nice to solve at least one puzzle.” You groaned, though you were smiling.

“Next time, I’ll let you have the first clue. Promise.” Bucky chuckled softly. And by let you, I mean I’ll stand far away from everything and try not to accidentally win.

“You better.” You laughed, shaking your head as you both stepped out into the night.

× × × ×

The arcade was buzzing with lights, sounds, and the faint scent of popcorn. It was a complete shift from the eerie asylum escape room, and you were already eyeing the rows of flashing machines and claw games with glee.

Alright, this is more like it. No creepy mannequins here, just good old-fashioned fun.

Bucky, on the other hand, looked around like he had just entered a foreign world. The last time he’d been in an arcade, they didn’t have all this flashing neon or half the games that were here now. What happened to the simple stuff? Pinball machines and jukeboxes. Now I’ve got ten-foot robots staring at me while kids slap buttons like their lives depend on it.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile at how excited you looked. Okay, if she’s this excited, maybe this won’t be so bad.

“Okay, so... how does this place work again?” he asked, watching a kid furiously slap buttons at a nearby game.

You laughed, giving him a gentle nudge. “It’s simple! We just play a bunch of games, earn tickets, and then trade them in for really weird prizes. Easy.”

Bucky nodded, though he still looked a little confused. “So, you win tickets by—?”

“By being amazing at games, obviously,” you said, your eyes already darting toward a nearby basketball shooting game. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Bucky followed you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I’ll keep up.” Alright, let’s see if I remember how to be competitive at... basketball?

You started with basketball, and while you had a decent shot, Bucky quickly became the Michael Jordan of arcade basketball. He tossed shot after shot into the hoop with ridiculous ease, barely even looking like he was trying.

Oh, come on. Seriously? Why is he good at everything? You shook your head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. Are you serious right now? Are you even aiming?”

“I dunno. I just... throw.” Bucky shrugged, not missing a single shot.

“This is what I get for going on a date with someone who’s literally built for accuracy.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. Why am I pretending like I’m mad? It’s honestly impressive.

He flashed a boyish grin. “You wanted to see if I could keep up.” Oh, I’m keeping up, doll.

You crossed your arms, pretending to pout. “I wasn’t trying to lose in record time.”

When the game ended, Bucky had a ridiculous amount of points, and you had... well, significantly fewer. He collected your combined tickets from the machine, glancing down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Should I carry these, or do you want to hold on to the three tickets you earned?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

How is he still charming even while teasing me? This is unfair. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you snatched a couple of tickets from his hand with a grin. “You know what? Fuck you.”

“Careful, doll. You keep talking like that, and I might just take you up on it.” Bucky’s smirk widened, and he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse quicken.

Okay, that was a little too good. I should not be blushing right now. Your eyes widened for a second, a flush creeping up your neck before you shot him a playful glare. “You wish.”

“You know I don’t have to wish for anything.” He chuckled, stepping back with a wink.

Well, that escalated quickly. You tried to bite back your smile, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at you. “I’m starting to regret bringing you here.”

Bucky held up the stack of tickets, grinning like a kid who just won the lottery. “You’re only regretting it because I’m walking away with all the prizes.” Did I just turn an arcade into a battlefield?

“Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in.” You huffed, shaking your head, though the smile on your face said otherwise.

Bucky shot you another wink. “Oh, I plan to.”

This guy is dangerous with that smile. You smirked, leaning in a little. “So... what happened to the awkward guy who pointed out that bagels are round? Because this,” you waved at the arcade tickets, “does not feel like the same guy.”

“What? You weren’t impressed by my bagel observations?” Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. I was doing my best back then, okay?

You laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, I was very impressed. I just didn’t know you were hiding this arcade legend behind all that bagel wisdom.”

He grinned, eyes glinting. “I’m full of surprises, doll.” You have no idea.

“Clearly,” you said, still teasing him as you walked toward the next game. “Let’s see how many more surprises you’ve got.”

You dragged him over to the shooting gallery game, where you were met with an array of plastic rifles and paper targets.

“I’m kinda good at this,” you declared, grabbing one of the rifles with renewed determination. “You can’t have a crazy aim for everything.” Finally, something I can win.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “Okay. Let’s see what you got.”

You aimed and fired... missing every single target. You winced as the targets flipped back and forth, mocking you with their tiny, evil faces. Are you kidding me?

“You’re holding it too tight.” Bucky stepped up beside you, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh, great. Here we go. The expert.” You groaned. Of course, I’m holding it too tight. Leave it to Bucky to know everything.

Bucky smiled, but instead of saying anything, he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his hands gently guiding yours on the plastic gun. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt the warmth of him so close. His breath was soft against your ear as he leaned in to guide your aim, his voice low and steady.

Why does he have to be so good at this? I can barely think straight.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands adjusting yours gently. “Don’t grip it so hard. Just like this.”

How am I supposed to relax when he’s practically wrapped around me?

Your pulse quickened, your senses suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. His cologne—woodsy and warm—filled your lungs, making you a little dizzy. You swallowed hard, focusing on anything but the way your back pressed against his chest. “Okay... relax. Right. Got it.”

“You’re not relaxing.” Bucky’s voice was low, almost teasing.

Yeah, no kidding. Not exactly easy when you smell like a lumberjack dream.

“I am relaxed!” you shot back, though your heart was racing so fast you were sure he could hear it.

Bucky chuckled, and the soft rumble of his laugh vibrated against your back. “If you were relaxed, you wouldn’t be holding your breath.”

If she’s holding her breath, I must be doing something right.

You blinked, realizing that yes, you were in fact holding your breath. You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the targets instead of the fact that Bucky was basically wrapped around you.

“Good,” he said quietly, his hands still steadying yours. “Now, pull the trigger. Nice and easy.”

Yeah, this is totally normal. Just shooting targets, totally not thinking about how close we are.

You followed his lead, squeezing the trigger gently. The shot rang out, and the sound of a hit echoed through the machine. The target flipped backward, signaling a perfect hit.

“I did it!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over as you turned your head to look at him.

Your faces were just inches apart. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, the good kind—the kind that makes your heart race and your stomach flip.

God, she’s close. Just a little closer...

Your gaze flickered down to his lips, and Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting where you were or what you were doing. All he could think about was how easy it would be to lean in just a little more, to—

“Uh, sorry!” A kid nearby bumped into the machine, jolting you both out of the moment.

Of course. Great timing, kid.

You quickly stepped out of Bucky’s embrace, your face flushed. “Well, um... thanks for the lesson, Barnes.”

Bucky cleared his throat, his ears a little pink. “Yeah. Anytime.” Anytime? Seriously, Barnes? That’s all you’ve got?

You moved on to a few more games, but the tension between you still lingered, electric and unspoken. After a particularly intense game of air hockey (where you almost won, thanks to Bucky being a little too distracted by you), you found yourselves at the prize counter.

Your eyes scanned the shelves, but one prize in particular caught your attention: an absolutely massive goose plush sitting at the top of the prize display. It was ridiculous, almost comically large, but it made you smile instantly.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, pointing. “That goose is so cute.”

Bucky followed your gaze and raised an eyebrow. A goose? Really? She could pick anything, and it’s that giant bird?

“You like that thing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I mean, look at it. It’s the size of a couch,” you said, laughing. “No one’s ever gonna win enough tickets for that.”

Bucky looked thoughtful for a second. Then, without saying a word, he handed all of your tickets to the guy at the counter. Challenge accepted, doll.

The kid behind the counter stared at him. “Uh, you know this isn’t enough for the goose, right?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but... what’s it take to win that thing?”

Because clearly, winning giant plush birds is my new priority in life.

The kid blinked. “Like... a thousand tickets.”

Bucky smirked, then turned to you. “Wait here.”

“What are you doing?” You frowned, confused.

Please don’t say you’re going to try and win a thousand tickets... oh my God, he’s going to try and win a thousand tickets.

Bucky said nothing and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, you saw him at one of those old-school, rigged basketball games. His face was calm, determined—like he was about to go to war.

One after the other, Bucky sank shot after shot, racking up points so fast that you had to rub your eyes to believe it. Within minutes, he had earned a mountain of tickets. He moved on to another game, this time skee-ball, and then to another. Every single game, he dominated, earning enough tickets to make the counter kid’s jaw drop when he returned with what looked like a roll of tickets big enough to use as a belt.

“Holy crap,” you muttered, watching as Bucky handed the tickets over, a satisfied smirk on his face. The kid counted them, eyes wide, then slowly reached for the giant goose plush.

The oversized goose was practically half Bucky’s height as he carried it back over to you, grinning.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you with a proud look. “You said you liked it, right?”

Who just... casually wins a giant goose plush? How did he do that?

You stared at the giant, fluffy creature, then at him, your heart flipping over itself. “Bucky... this is insane. It’s huge.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave without winning you something.” He shrugged, his grin boyish and a little shy. Yeah, Barnes, act like you’re not insanely proud of yourself right now.

He’s... adorable. Stop. Focus. “You really didn’t have to... but I love it.” You laughed, hugging the goose to your chest.

“Good.” Bucky’s eyes softened as he watched you smile. Worth every single ticket.

Your heart raced, your face heating up as you looked at him over the massive plush. “You’re full of surprises, Barnes. Who knew you’d be this good at arcades?”

Just trying to impress the girl, no big deal.

“Maybe I just wanted to impress you.” He smiled, a little more reserved this time.

Well, mission accomplished, buddy. You blushed, the air between you crackling again with that familiar tension. “Well, mission accomplished.”

You stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other, the absurdly large goose between you, until you laughed and nudged him with your elbow.

“You know, this might be the best date I’ve ever been on,” you said, your tone light but sincere. Was that too much? Did I just over-share?

Bucky’s smile grew, his eyes softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, holding the goose a little tighter. “Definitely the best.” Okay, that was smooth. Not awkward at all.

You left the arcade with the giant goose plush between you, its goofy face almost mocking the awkwardness that had suddenly crept back into your steps. Bucky walked beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, trying to figure out what to say.

Do I say something? Or just... keep walking?

The sounds of the city filled the silence around you, but neither of you spoke. The playful energy from the arcade had faded into something quieter, more uncertain.

Why am I so bad at this? Just say something, Barnes.

After a long stretch of quiet, Bucky cleared his throat. “So... is this the end?” Smooth, real smooth.

You blinked and glanced over at him, trying to keep your heart from doing a flip at his words. “Well, that’s all I had planned. Why?”

Bucky hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly as he looked ahead, his mind clearly weighing something. Okay, don’t screw this up. Don’t sound too eager.

For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to say goodbye, that maybe this was the end of your date after all. But then, he spoke quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“I kind of don’t want to go home yet.” Well, there it is. Now she knows.

You felt a flutter in your chest, your face heating up as a small, shy smile tugged at your lips. You ducked your head, looking down at the sidewalk to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. The way he said it—so simple but sincere—made your heart skip.

Why does that sound so much cuter than it should? You bit your lip, an idea suddenly coming to you.

“Well...” you started, glancing up at him. “There’s a new building by the riverside with a sky deck. It just opened recently, and it’s supposed to have the best view of the city.”

“Sky deck, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued. A sky deck? Yeah, that sounds better than awkwardly walking home.

You nodded, a little more excited now. “Yeah. It’s pretty high up, and overlooks the whole city. I haven’t been yet, but I heard it’s amazing at night.”

“Sounds better than going home.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile. Thank God. I’m not ready for this to be over yet.

“Then let’s go.” You grinned, feeling your heart race just a little faster.

You shared a quick, almost nervous glance at each other before walking in the direction of the riverside. The awkwardness wasn’t completely gone, but now, it was laced with anticipation, a kind of giddy energy that made your stomach flutter. You hugged the plush goose a little tighter, trying not to let your excitement show too much, but inside, you were buzzing.

× × × ×

The city lights shimmered below you as you lounged on the comfy chairs, drinks in hand. The night air was cool, but it didn’t come close to breaking the warmth buzzing between you and Bucky.

She’s... something else, Bucky thought, leaning back slightly. His gaze kept shifting between the breathtaking skyline and you, but he found himself more captivated by you. How am I supposed to focus on the view when she looks like that?

Noticing the quiet, you smirked. “So, you were really gonna end the night without showing off more of your endless talents?”

Oh, she’s teasing now. Alright, two can play this game. Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “What, beating you at arcade games wasn’t enough?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re a walking cheat code, Bucky. But I feel like there’s more you’re holding back.”

His eyes flickered over your face, lingering on your lips for just a little too long. More than you know, doll. “Maybe I am.”

Your breath caught for a second, but you quickly recovered, tilting your head and flashing him a grin. “Oh yeah? Like what? Some secret talent I should know about?”

Keep your cool, Barnes. Don't blow it now.

Bucky leaned in just a fraction, his voice lowering, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I only show them to people who ask nicely.”

God, does he have to sound that smooth? Your heart flipped at the way he was looking at you, intense, as if he was seeing through every joke and teasing comment. How am I supposed to keep this casual?

“Nicely, huh? And what do I have to do for you to show me?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the playful banter fading into something more charged.

“Keep hanging around,” he said softly.

I’m in deep now. Bucky's eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. Should I kiss her? Maybe I’m reading this wrong...

His eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. It was just him—his voice, his presence, the way he was looking at you like he wanted to kiss you but was holding back.

You swallowed, feeling the tension build like a slow fire. You sipped your drink, trying to cool yourself down, but it did little to shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Stop overthinking, just go with it.

“I could do that,” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. You felt his eyes on you, and the air between you felt electric. You glanced at him, catching him staring at your lips again. Your pulse jumped. He’s really staring... isn’t he?

“You’re staring,” you said, teasing, though your voice had a soft edge to it, your heart thudding in your chest.

Bucky blinked, caught, but instead of pulling away, he smirked. “Am I?”

Yeah, Bucky, play it cool. Like you haven’t been staring for the past five minutes.

“Mhm,” you teased, though your voice was barely steady. Why does that smirk make my heart race? “I mean, I get it. The view’s great and all.”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping lower. “You could say that.”

I can’t believe this is actually happening. You felt your face heat up at the way he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach do wild flips. Why is this so... intense?

“You’re not just talking about the city, are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, sending shivers down your spine. Just kiss her already. “Maybe not.”

Your breath hitched. “And what are you looking at?”

He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “What do you think?”

She knows exactly what I’m looking at.

Your heart raced, the pull between you growing stronger with every passing second. His eyes kept flicking down to your lips, making you wonder if he was going to kiss you. I really shouldn’t wait any longer...

Bucky cleared his throat suddenly, as if shaking off the trance he’d been in, and leaned back into his seat, looking almost embarrassed. Okay, maybe I’m rushing this.

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, your voice softer, gentler now. God, why did he stop? “Don’t be. I didn’t mind.”

His gaze snapped back to yours, the tension flaring again. She didn’t mind? Well, maybe I didn’t screw up, after all—or I did because you didn’t kiss her you idiot. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, a soft smile tugged at his lips, and his expression softened.

“So... orthopedic ward, huh?” he said, shifting the conversation, though his eyes were still locked on you. “How do you handle that? All those broken bones?”

Smooth, Barnes. Talk about bones to distract yourself from the fact you were just about to kiss her.

You took a deep breath, relieved for the break in intensity but missing it instantly. Great, now I’m thinking about how close he was... “Well, it’s mostly convincing people not to do dumb things. Like skateboarding down staircases. You wouldn’t believe what people put themselves through.”

Bucky chuckled. Yeah, I believe it. Considering I’ve done dumber things in my time. “I can believe it. I’ve been there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve skateboarded down staircases?”

“No, but I’ve done some pretty stupid things in my time,” he admitted, leaning in again. Pretty sure falling for you might top the list. “But if I did something dumb, you’d patch me up, right?”

You smirked, your eyes twinkling. He’s flirting again. I can’t take this seriously. “Oh, I’d patch you up. But I’d make sure to remind you how dumb you were the entire time.”

“Fair,” Bucky said, the distance between you shrinking again. Patch me up, lecture me—just keep talking, I don’t care. “But I think I’d be a good patient.”

You shook your head with a grin. Good patient? Doubtful. “I doubt that. You’d probably complain the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t,” he replied, his tone teasing but soft. I’d let her take care of me, no problem. “If you were the one taking care of me, I’d be on my best behavior.”

He’s definitely not just talking about broken bones... Your heart skipped at the way he was looking at you again, his voice dropping to something more intimate. The banter was light, but underneath it all, there was that same intensity. Okay, now I’m thinking about kissing him again...

“You don’t strike me as someone who’s ever on their best behavior,” you teased softly, though your breath caught in your throat.

Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking to your lips again. “Maybe you bring it out in me.”

God, I hope so.

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. Your pulse raced, and you leaned into the moment, letting the tension simmer between you, unspoken but undeniable. He’s close again…

“I’ll have to see that for myself,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat.

She’s close, too. Just lean in, Barnes. Bucky’s gaze darkened, his voice low and rough. “You just might.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as the tension between you crackled, thick and electric. You shifted slightly, leaning in with a playful smirk. “So... tell me, you got any other dates lined up after this one?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned back, crossing his arms. Dates? I can barely keep up with this one. “Why? You worried I’ve got someone else lined up?”

You grinned, holding his gaze. “Maybe. Should I be?”

Not a chance. He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking as his voice dropped lower. “I don’t know... do you have any other dates lined up?”

He’s really turning this on me, huh? You blinked, your heart racing, but you quickly shot back, “Well, maybe... maybe not. Depends on how this one ends.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes dropping to your lips again, the intensity rising. Alright, Barnes, time to end this date right. “Guess I better make sure it ends right, then.”

Before you could respond, Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek as he leaned in, your lips so close you could feel his breath.

Your heart was pounding, your breath shallow, as his parted lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, his head tilting just slightly. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips locking against yours in a way that made everything around you fade to nothing. He could taste the faint sweetness of your daiquiri on your lips, and with a soft groan, his tongue did a slow, savoring lick against your bottom lip before slipping past, deepening the kiss.

Your hands instinctively moved up, cupping his face as you kissed him back, your fingers sliding along the scruff of his jaw. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb stroked your cheek, the way his lips moved against yours —everything about it was intoxicating, pulling you under.

Then Bucky pulled back for a quick gasp, his breath mingling with yours , before diving back in, capturing your lips with even more intensity. The kiss deepened, more urgent this time, as though neither of you wanted the moment to end. His hand on your nape tightened slightly, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.

They didn’t stop until they couldn’t breathe anymore, finally pulling apart when the need for air overtook you, both of you breathless and flushed. Their foreheads rested together, the cool night air doing little to cool the heat between you. Bucky’s thumb gently stroked your cheek as he whispered, his voice rough, “Definitely no other dates lined up after this.”

You smiled, your hands still cradling his face, your heart pounding. “Good. Neither do I.”

× × × ×

As Bucky’s motorcycle came to a slow stop outside your house, and glanced up at your front porch. You hopped off the bike, shaking out your hair with a satisfied grin.

That ride was way too short... you thought, glancing at him as you handed Bucky his helmet, which he stubbornly told you to wear instead of him.

Bucky, being the gentleman, didn’t just let you off with a wave. He slid off the bike and stood up straight, dusting his hands like he was about to help carry your groceries.

Alright, Barnes. Play it cool.

"I’ll walk you up," he said casually, like it wasn’t 2024 and people usually just waved from their cars.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. "You’re walking me to my porch?"

Bucky nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She thinks it’s weird? Hell, I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Of course. What kind of guy lets a lady walk to her door alone?” he replied, shrugging like this was completely normal.

You tried not to laugh, biting your lip to hold back a smile. He’s serious. Oh my God, he’s really serious. "Wow, okay, Mr. 1940s. What’s next, you gonna tip your hat and call me ‘ma’am’?"

Bucky smirked, taking a step closer. Alright, go with it, Barnes. “I could, if that’s what you’re into.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes but smiling as you walked together toward your porch. He’s ridiculous... and kinda sweet. You couldn’t help but notice how he slowed his pace just a little, like he was savoring the moment, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, casual yet somehow... considerate.

When you reached your porch, Bucky stopped, glancing at your door as if making sure it was safe territory. This is it. Play it smooth.

You turned to him, unable to hold back a laugh this time. "So, do I get a secret code to get into my own house, or...?"

Bucky grinned, leaning casually against the porch railing. “Just making sure you get home safe.”

Alright, Barnes, she’s not buying it. But hey, it worked.

“You know, they invented porch lights for a reason.” You shook your head, amused. He’s seriously acting like my personal bodyguard right now.

“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” Bucky shrugged, leaning in just a little closer, that playful glint in his eye. Please don’t laugh, please don’t laugh.

You looked up at him, crossing your arms with a smirk. “You know, there’s a fine line between being a gentleman and babysitting.”

Bucky chuckled. She’s killing me with that smirk. “Hey, you never know. There could be a rogue bagel out here, just waiting to trip you up.”

Oh, not the bagels again. “Oh my God, not the bagels again!” you burst out laughing, shaking your head.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You know they’re round, right?”

This man is unbelievable. You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I think we’ve officially come full circle.”

“Just like a bagel.” Bucky gave a slow, dramatic nod.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, but you shook your head, standing on your porch with your hands on your hips. Why do I like this guy so much?

“Alright, alright, you’ve escorted me safely to my door. Anything else, or are you going to salute me goodbye?”

Bucky’s grin softened, and with a playful twinkle in his eye, he gave a small, mock salute. She’s gotta be messing with me right now, right? “Goodnight, ma’am.”

“Goodnight, soldier.” You couldn’t stop smiling as you opened your door, turning back to look at him. Don’t walk away, don’t walk away yet...

As you slipped inside, you peeked out one last time, watching as Bucky lingered for a second, that charming smirk still on his face before he finally turned and headed back to his bike. Say something, Barnes. Don’t just leave like a dork.

But then he stopped, halfway to his bike, and turned back around, something flickering in his eyes.

No, I’m not leaving yet. Not without...

Before you could ask what he was doing, Bucky closed the distance between you with a few long strides. Without hesitating, he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you—soft, quick, but just enough to make your heart race. His lips parted against yours, and for a split second, you tasted the warmth of him before he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes.

That... was... wow.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart doing a somersault. Did that just happen? You were still processing when Bucky grinned, his voice a little more hushed. “I guess I couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.”

Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth.

You blinked, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a soft, “No complaints here.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand still lingering at your neck for a moment longer. Then, he cleared his throat, stepping back a bit. “Hey, uh... you got a number I could call sometime?”

He’s asking for my number after that?

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter as you reached into your pocket, grabbing your phone. “Yeah, here—let me put it in.”

As you typed in your number, Bucky watched you, that familiar twinkle back in his eyes. Best decision I’ve made all night.

When you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed his, sending a small jolt up your arm. Yep, I’m done for.

Bucky pocketed the phone, flashing that boyish grin again. “Alright. I’ll call you.”

Yeah, you better. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He took a slow step down from the porch, but not without glancing over his shoulder one more time. “Goodnight... again.”

You stood there, grinning like an idiot. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

As Bucky made his way back to his bike, you slipped inside your house, leaning against the door as your heart raced. Did he really just kiss me? Again? Oh, this is definitely not over.

You peeked out one last time through the crack in the door, watching him as he swung his leg over his bike. Even from your doorway, you could hear him muttering with a smirk, “Just trying to keep the rogue bagels at bay.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finally closed the door behind you, your heart racing a little more than you expected. I’m never going to forget this night...

3K notes · View notes

twilightau · 2 months ago

Text

LOVE VIRUS 2; L.DH

synopsis — you finally left the ER department, but why do you keep popping up in Haechan’s life and mind?

genres — first love au, co-workers-to-lovers, doctor au

pairing — general surgeon!lee donghyuck x nurse!fem!reader

warnings — language, mentions of death, incorrect medical descriptions, fire accident, lots of HC going back and forth with his thoughts, medical setting, lot of pov changes

word count — 7,6k (part one) 5,6k (part two)

author’s note — this fic is based off the j-drama ‘an incurable case of love’! but besides some events and the premise, they aren’t similar. i also added doses of other k-medical drama moments in the work, mostly because i am far from medically educated so i apologize to any of you who are reading this.

a/n part 2: this part switches focus between haechan and y/n a lot. whenever it’s haechan-focused, he will be referred to as haechan (in y/n-focus he is referred to as donghyuck).

HAECHAN: all the voices say the same thing.

There was no turning back. As much as people like to think that he is socially stumped, Haechan wasn’t. Being socially aware, but not acting upon it is a choice, and it was always the most time-efficient choice in his opinion. The opinions of others don’t matter, everyone knew he had the skills to match his attitude, so why bother being likable when a doctor’s job is to save people?

His nth consultation ended with another pair of wary eyes looking at him. He told them exactly what the surgery was and what their chances of survival were, yet the patient only turned away once the rookie nurse added some sugar-coated words to his story.

It’s so stupid how people let themselves fall into meaningless words of hope. They’d be ready to fight Haechan over well-formulated diagnoses with realistic predictions, but once you pitch in with some sentimental words about healing, they are always easily satisfied. You throw in one of your sweet and kind smiles and the patient is sold.

It frustrated him how much of those smiles he has been seeing lately. Somehow, after he revealed that he remembered you, it was him who became hyper-aware of you. He can’t even properly criticize your work anymore because it did actually improve, and you knew it because you have been flashing proud little smiles at him whenever he didn’t tell you off on something he did before.

Haechan was sure that the thoughts of you would quiet down after you finished your ER rotation and continued on to other departments. But it really didn’t help that you ended up at cardiology and Mark was somehow so fond of you that he always mentions you whenever the surgeon went out for a drink with the cardiologist.

(“Nurse Y/N baked some cookies for the team today, they were crazy.” Mark told his friend while stuffing his face with another piece of chicken. Haechan sipped his beer, trying to focus on anything but the image of you smiling brightly with a tray of cookies.

“She even made a special version, which Jeno approved to give to his patients.” The surgeon hummed with indifference – at least he tried to. “Yo, are you even listening?” Haechan’s eyes flick to Mark with annoyance.

“Well, sorry that I don’t want to hear about Y/N and Jeno being some sort of charity towards their patients. I’m not exactly invested.” Mark gaped at his friend, who grabbed his glass to take a huge sip. “No way, you are into her, dude.” And the surgeon spat his drink all over Mark with zero guilt.)

Even worse, you keep showing up in his barely-there free time as well, present in his house, talking to his cousin like you’ve known her for years when it has been literal months. The two of you are always watching some cheesy rom-com whenever Haechan looks over at the living room from the open kitchen, which he only entered for some water by the way.

Tonight was one of those nights where you came over while your roommate was out with her friends. Karina brought home some fried chicken and the two of you were enjoying your meal with an episode of Perfect Match a background noise.

“Girl, I can’t believe it's only been three months since you started here. You already received a request to start in the cardiology department which is very impressive.” This news was unknown to Donghyuck, he sits up a little straighter, his laptop and work long forgotten on the kitchen island.

You shake your head profusely, “I only got the offer because the team thinks I do well with the patients. Besides, the majority of the team already knew me before I started.”

It was true, the cardiology department was where your roommate Minjeong was stationed. It would be no surprise if she recommended you, as well as Mark, although he would have done it for different reasons.

“So what?” Karina stretches out the ‘a’ for dramatic effect, “Wasn’t it Jeno that turned in that request?” She continues to press the topic further, and Haechan knows his cousin. She was trying to get on his nerves. He directed his gaze to the living room to confirm that Karina was indeed eyeing him. The conversation the cousins had once resurfaced.

(“I think you should try dating again, Haechan.” His cousin casually dropped while they were having dinner. Haechan scoffs, pointing his fork at his cousin accusatory. “Just say you want me together with your little friend and be done with it. Don’t beat around the bush.”

“Okay, fine, let me be honest. Y/N is a great girl, and if you don’t act on it fast, she will be taken in no time.” Although Haechan saw you in a professional light most of the time, he was still a man who could objectively confirm that you were attractive. But you were so different from him that he couldn’t imagine himself with you.

“I doubt she is that popular, Karina. You are overreacting.” He tries to play it nonchalantly, if she notices, she doesn’t mention it. The two ate their dinner with small bickerings on random topics, but the thought that there was someone in the cardiology department didn’t sit right with Haechan.)

At least he didn’t need to ask Mark about it anymore now that his cousin had revealed the name of the guy. Haechan absolutely refuses to ask his best friend even remotely about any female, knowing he won’t live it down if it comes to Mark Lee. It was however quite surprising that Jeno requested you to join the cardiology department, after all, Jeno wasn’t much of a social butterfly compared to his co-worker Mark. But his sweet smile and mellow nature made him popular amongst the female staff of any department.

It wasn’t jealousy – he knows for sure (no he doesn’t)– but wonder? A small piece of him was kind of proud that you managed to establish a steady image of yourself that became well-liked by the cardiology department. He wasn’t jealous, really. Part of the rotations is to see which team would fit best for each rookie nurse. Haechan also knew that there were very few nurses who ended up applying for the emergency department, feeling an overwhelming responsibility to work hard and fast under very unappealing circumstances.

Haechan is about to open his mouth to throw a teasing comment your way, itching to see how you’d react, but his phone goes off. An emergency alert.

He looks up to see the same expression on Karina’s face, the two cousins stand up in unison and rush to get their stuff. The surgeon notices you walking toward him as he packs his laptop into his bag.

“What happened?”

“Emergency alarm, all available staff are asked to come and help out.” He doesn’t look up, rushing into his room to grab his remaining necessities before exiting and walking toward the door. You stand there with Karina, the head nurse looking at Haechan, her eyes asking for help.

“Y/N wants to come, too.” Haechan frowns, frankly speaking, he didn’t have time for this as he should be rushing to the hospital, but he somehow still finds time to argue with you on this.

“When I said all available staff, I meant the ER and related staff. General surgery is always called in for these things. The cardiology staff on shift will cover what they need just fine.” He waves you off, putting his shoes on and opening the door, already rushing down the hallway to the elevators. But if Lee Donghyuck had spent just as much time with you as Yu Karina had, he’d have known how persistent you actually are, strutting into the elevator with Karina.

You don’t even spare the man a look, a smug smile on your face while you wait for the elevator to reach the ground level. Haechan hides his forming smile behind a scoff. “Did I lose your respect after you rotate in other departments, Nurse Y/N?” You turn around to face Haechan with a smile, and the man forgets to keep his composure for a second, but snaps back before you – or his cousin – can notice.

“In case you didn’t know, I am free to apply for any department now that I’ve completed the obligatory rotations. Besides, there are people out there who need help right now Dr. Lee. I don’t think refusing to help hands is the efficient choice right now.” Haechan rolls his eyes, not missing the detail of your word choice.

♡

The accident site wasn’t far from your apartment complex, Haechan had to make the quick decision of sending Karina off to the hospital as head nurse and took you with him to the accident site.

“Hello, this is doctor Lee Donghyuck from general surgery. I’m going on-site to assess the situation. Please send over one medical unit and extra emergency kits.” Haechan pauses for a moment to look at you, “I already have one nurse with me.” He informs the emergency response center before taking a sprint.

This wasn’t his first time on an accident site, he knew the drill but repeated it nonetheless for you. “Make sure to stay close to me. You are here to assist me, and I am here to assess who we can and cannot treat. Nurse Y/N, what you are about to see will be upsetting, but I need you to stay clear-minded, okay?” His voice was more gentle as he spoke the last part, but he knew the moment the two of you set eyes on the site, that your heart must be heavy and racing just like his.

Haechan was shortly informed on the phone that a fire broke out in a neighboring high school; he already knew that there would be a lot of injured students. But knowing never softens the blow. The sounds of crying, coughing, and screaming students momentarily freeze the surgeon, but the moment he looks at you, he knows he has to stay strong to keep both of you afloat. He grabs your hand, telling you to follow him towards a temporary set-up tent where paramedics are already busy dividing tasks.

“I’m doctor Lee Donghyuck from Neo-Seoul Medical Center, this is Nurse Y/N L/N. What can we do to help?” A tall paramedic turns to the two of you, his face looks strained but he manages a polite smile and shakes your hands. “I’m glad help could come this fast. I’m the captain of unit A, paramedic Johnny Suh. We are currently waiting for the clear sign to enter the building and look for survivors. It’s best that you two start with labeling all the students who managed to get out already. You know the codes?”

“Yes,” Haechan answers curtly, it wasn’t unusual that people underestimated him because he looked young, but he didn’t waste much time on the thought and rushed to the first students he could find.

He checks the pulse of a still-laying male student while a female sits next to him on the ground, crying. You assist Haechan with all the tools he needs to check on the non-responding patient while he asks the conscious female a few questions.

“Give her a green label and him an orange label,” Haechan instructs before standing up and looking for the next patient. He hears you tell the girl that orange means the boy will be fine and the girl cries out louder, thanking the two of you.

♡

Y/N: that fire that burns dangerously.

What felt like hours went by while Donghyuck and you checked patient after patient. Yangyang and Sion joined the scene to help lift part of the burden as on-site medical staff. You tried your best to keep up with Donghyuck while trying to keep your head cool. There were so many students, and young lives that will hold this disaster as a tainted memory for a long time.

You knew you’d been here way too long, the fire wasn’t completely out yet and the paramedics did warn you to take precautions. The mask on your face started to feel suffocating and it was obvious that both Donghyuck and you needed a break before you exhausted yourself in these extreme conditions. Your hand reached out to call him, but you froze at a familiar cry near the two of you.

“Somebody, please…” A weak female voice calls out between coughs, you whip your head around and run without warning Donghyuck. Her voice was something you wouldn’t forget. You have laughed with that voice, cried with that voice, and screamed with that voice at one of the scariest moments in your life: it was Minnie’s voice.

“Minnie.” Her name leaves your lips with a gasp, she is dirtied with soot and trembling. You rush to her side and hug her tight, just relieved that she is alive. You feel her take a deep breath for a moment before she breaks out in coughs again. She pushed you off her with frantic eyes, trying her best to tell you something, but you were too close to the smoke and you didn’t doubt that she had been for a longer time.

“R-riku oppa–.” She forced the words out between coughs before you signaled paramedics to take her away. You jump on your feet, and a slight dizziness clouds your vision momentarily when you look around you. If Minnie has been so certain to not flee any further, it must mean that Riku was within reach. You try your hardest to see through the fire, unknowingly walking closer to the building, too desperate to save another child. The sight breaks your heart like a stone through a glass wall; Riku lies unconscious near the exit, a large object on top of his upper body, making it impossible for him to escape.

It wasn’t instinct, nor was it reflex. The complete opposite snapped in you, all the care for your own safety flew out the window the moment you saw the teenage boy. Your legs weren’t yours, your strength wasn’t yours, everything was automatic and with no thoughts. The object was heavy, likely a fallen piece of the ceiling, but you managed to lift it just a bit.

You shut your eyes and focus all your strength on removing the object, not even realizing that a group of paramedics and Donghyuck himself have found you and are helping out. Only after you felt like there was no strength left in you did you open your eyes, the object was off Riku’s body and Captain Suh was performing CPR. Donghyuck looked at you with concerned eyes, but his words didn’t register in your mind as exhaustion seeped into you. The last thing you remember is his arms around your body and the impact of something hard.

♡

HAECHAN: between you and me.

Haechan saves lives. It was one of the most normal things to do for him, hell – he was a professional after all. A general surgeon working in the emergency department, he was used to seeing people in very bad shapes and situations. These weren’t limited to the ER, but also on the accident sites. Haechan has always been the few doctors that were dispatched the most often whenever a disaster broke out. Thanks to his expertise, he knew exactly what and where the injured could go for the best treatments. He was also well aware of the procedure at the sites. Never would he call himself a sucker for rules, but he knew the importance of protocol and why they existed in the first place.

Yet he didn’t hesitate to run after you when you were obviously breaking any and every point of the set rules. Yet he even helped you out with your ridiculous quest to save a student that you were not capable of doing on your own. Yet he risked his life to push you out of the way because you were too caught up in the situation to stay aware of your surroundings.

Doyoung expected a lot of things from Haechan, but to tell him off on something he had done perfectly for so long was a surprise.

“This report doesn’t make sense, Donghyuck. You were supposed to be the best of the batch, but you’re messing up your entire fast track with a rookie mistake?” Doyoung rubs his hand over his face in frustration. Haechan was not a promising resident anymore, he was already at a similar level to some of the senior surgeons. If he had to be honest, Haechan might be better at certain surgeries than Doyoung himself.

It’s stupid, that’s what it is. Haechan made one mistake and the board jumped on the opportunity to humble the cocky surgeon. Haechan knows it’s unfair, probably anyone with a little more insight on the situation knows that this was a personal attack on him. But even as Chief of General Surgery, his power knew limits.

“Listen, I can’t get you back on track soon. But the good side is that the kid you saved was a close relative of the paramedic team on the scene. You might have temporarily lost your chance at promotion, but at least you got a paramedic team on your beck and call.”

Haechan didn’t speak much, just listening to Doyoung’s rants and nagging before leaving his office. He opens the door to catch you sitting in the waiting area. He knows he has to leave as soon as possible before you catch him, but his lingering gaze delays his moves and you look right up to his walking figure.

“Dr. Lee!” You shout through the hall, Haechan’s body freezes, allowing you to run up to him and hold his sleeve. A feeling of deja vu rises in Haechan, along with other things he is not ready to identify. “I need to talk to you, please.” The surgeon takes a deep breath and turns to you, a stoic expression hiding his uncertainties.

“Is it true that you lost your spot on the fast track?” Haechan rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t deny anything, too focused on not looking into your eyes. “Why?” You ask with a crack in your voice. If Haechan was too nervous to look in your eyes before, he is now terrified to catch your gaze. He is afraid of all the things he will say, and all the things he won’t say.

“Nurse Y/N, you should worry about your own conversation with your superior. Leave my business alone. Hell, leave me alone for once” Haechan snaps, misplaced anger in his words as he shrugs your hand off his sleeve and walks away. He didn’t look at your face, but he pictures your pained expression in his head, and he hates it.

Just like that, the two of you didn’t speak for weeks. You ended up choosing cardiology and were currently in Dr. Lee Jeno’s OR team. Maeda Riku was in fact one of the latest patients you assisted in Jeno’s OR, and due to the complicated surgery ending successfully, the entire team was invited to a conference to share the experience.

Haechan was a bit proud – or a lot – of your growth throughout your time at Neo-Seoul Medical Center. You still seemed a bit clumsy, but you were definitely quicker on your feet and managed to soothe the hearts of many cardiology patients. The general surgeon can act like this is all information he heard from Mark who seems to think Haechan needs weekly Y/N-updates (Haechan is kind of curious, he won’t lie), but deep down he already knows that even without Mark, Haechan will always look out for you from a distance.

“I’m telling you, dude. Lee Jeno is going to confess to her in Busan and you will end up single for the rest of your life!” Mark rubs his face in frustration, and his friend slash colleague’s passive behavior is ticking him off. Haechan’s face remains neutral, he grabs another strip of meat and puts it on the grill, he shrugs after seeing the cardiologist unmoving staring at him. “What does that have to do with me?”.

He’s feigning ignorance and he knows it. Haechan is still foolishly lying to himself that he doesn’t know about your… affection for him. You liked him silently, innocently, like anyone would feel about first love. But your little crush wasn’t the problem here, it was his growing love for you. While you just rekindled your previous crush on him, you set Haechan's heart ablaze in the most unsuspecting manner. One day he thought of you as the annoying new rookie in his department, preparing himself for any mistake you could make. But the next, he would be going home in between shifts, ‘resting’ and wondering whether you’d come and visit his cousin.

Suddenly, your mistakes weren’t annoying anymore and your care for patients softened his expressions. Suddenly, he didn’t mind having to eat your slightly sour food when you decided to cook Karina and his dinner. Suddenly, every extra mile you went for the people around you warmed his heart. And suddenly, that warmed heart became yours.

He doubted it at first, his feelings. Maybe he hadn’t met a fanatic rookie in a while – although Yangyang’s rookie days were also quite eventful. But Haechan knew for sure that you weren’t just a temporary infatuation when he ran into a burning building for you. He knew the consequences, the risks, but he didn’t care.

It felt unfair to you, who was just starting a career and exploring the medical world, to be tied down to a man with a bad reputation with colleagues who might affect your future.

“You’re telling me you aren’t going to fight for her?” Mark pushes, clearly his friend was hiding something but needed something to switch him on.

“I’m telling you she deserves better.” And Mark Lee was quiet about it, because Haechan was many things, and arrogant was at least in the top three words anyone would use to describe the surgeon. To have his colleague and long-term friend admit that he might not be the best option was out of the world, and so must his love for you be as well.

♡

Haechan sighs, swirling the champagne in his glass as he watches his colleagues and fellow medical professionals socialize. Through Mark’s effort, Haechan managed to get a few days off to join the conference in Busan, and now he is forced to come because Doyoung thought a conference was the perfect way to torture Haechan for his misbehavior.

He was right, it did feel like torture for Haechan. But it was because he was in a room filled with pretentious people, or because the catering was way too healthy and he needed something sweet.

It was torture because you were the most beautiful person in the room, and it was Jeno Lee who stood by your side. You wore a simple maxi dress which could have looked dull on anyone who didn’t glow like you. Your kind smile was given left and right and you laughed at all Jeno’s dry jokes. Haechan hated everything, but he loathed himself the most for not being the man next to you.

He goes outside and looks for his lighter, hoping that a long good smoke will help him escape. The surgeon spots Mark’s approaching figure and sighs again. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“You smoke again?”

Haechan tries to flicker the lighter again but fails. “What else am I supposed to do in this situation? Fucking go and tell her? Ever since she entered my life, she has been prying open that shitty door that I didn’t know existed?” Haechan drags a hand through his hair, throwing the lighter away in frustration. “I can’t do that, Mark. Whenever I picture myself next to her, I can only think of myself as a medical mentor. I don’t have anything else to offer. I pale in comparison to her shining nature and it’s making me sick that Lee Jeno is going to walk away with her tonight.”

“But what about your own happiness, though?” His friend asks him. Haechan fakes a dry laugh. His back is still turned towards his friends as the general surgeon stares outside. “I could never put myself before her. I think I’ve known since that high school fire that it will always be her before me.” It sounds so cliche, too sickly sweet for Haechan to say, but if he won’t confess, the least he can do is tell his friend what has been clouding his heart and mind for months.

Haechan was frustrated, anyone could tell by his shaking shoulders. Lee Haechan felt like a loser, but he was too hopeless to do anything about it. A soft hand caresses his back to comfort him and the voice he had missed was finally speaking to him again. “Everyone deserves happiness. And everyone should move on from the past.” Your words were so simple and genuine like they always were. Haechan turns around in shock to find you standing next to Mark – who is wearing a smirk with only slight hints of guilt in his eyes for letting you listen to a highly personal conversation.

♡

Y/N: don't ever let it die.

The banquet went by in a daze, and your mind drowns in thoughts of Donghyuck. For which reason was he here, miles and miles away from the hospital, in Yangyang’s spot at an event he deemed a waste of his time? A room filled with greed-filled people and flashy decor, chit-chat, and food that wouldn’t satisfy his picky palate. But on the other hand, this was exactly where he was supposed to be, between the powerful and skilled.

Your untouched glass received a soft cling from Jeno’s glass. He gives you his ever-so-sweet smile. “Y/N, if you need to go, you can. I can handle the rest of this event alone.” You think back on the words that Winter spoke to you right at the beginning of your intro week at the hospital. How Donghyuck was far from your type. Lee Jeno was your type: he was hard-working, loving, and honest with his heart in anything he did. Even right now, in one of the most important moments of his career, he was willing to let you go because you wanted to.

“They haven’t called out your name yet, Jeno. I can’t miss your spotlight of the night.” He looks down, and the corners of his lips falter. “Y/N, I don’t want one of my biggest nights to also be the night where you make one of your most regretful mistakes.” He still avoids your eyes. A few moments of silence pass between you two while you search for the right words to say.

“I’ll be okay, you can go now, Y/N.” Even though he maintained his body language perfectly fine, you knew deep down that he was hurting too. You stand up, his body flinching ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry, Jeno.” Jeno Lee would have been your answer in any lifetime, but this is that one lifetime where your heart called another name.

♡

You saw the scene unfold in front of you. Donghyuck’s back was facing Mark and you, Mark was telling him things you knew bits and pieces of thanks to the talkative hospital staff. Haechan was crying, his lighter abandoned, and his words losing their firmness as he slowly crouched down. Mark doesn’t comfort him, instead, he turns around and looks at you. His eyes told you enough and you walked towards Donghyuck with caution.

“Everyone deserves happiness. And everyone should move on from the past.”

Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, all hopes shattering as you kissed him, but he wasn’t kissing you back. Your mind was a mess; did you read everything wrong? You were sure about him, but was he still doubtful about you? You push him away, embarrassment and anger fill you as you jump on your feet and flee the scene.

You didn’t need to guess who was chasing after you when you entered the elevator. A heaving Donghyuck stops the elevator doors right before they close by forcing his hand between the tiny gap. You frown at him, “Surgeons should be careful with their hands.” He clicks on the 7th floor and only starts speaking once the doors close and the two of you are alone.

“Why did you leave the event?” He is asking the question because he selfishly wants to hear you say that you still like him. After everything that just happened, Lee Donghyuck still needed more confirmation.

“Why did you chase me here?” You fire back, hiding your embarrassment behind a thin veil of anger. He didn't answer, his actions and words were making you scoff. “If you can’t decide what you want. You shouldn’t have come after me, Dr. Lee.” The doors open and you hurry out, Donghyuck just one step behind you.

“Y/N, wait!” He stops you from closing your hotel room door, his brows pinched together as he tries to open the door, but you refuse. “Dr. Lee, don’t waste your breath on me.” The door doesn’t move, you know he’s still holding it in place, not pushing it open unless you allow him to, but not letting it shut him out because he knows this will be his last chance.

“Don’t talk like that.”

Your grip on the door loosens and Donghyuck pushes the door open entirely, his body suddenly way too close.

“What?”

“Don’t talk so negatively about yourself, I don’t like that.” He says, two beats of silence pass before you stammer another noise of confusion.

“And why should that matter to me? Why should it matter whether you like the things I do or not?” The back of your leg hits the edge of the table and you put your hands behind you to realize the table is stopping you from escaping him.

Donghyuck doesn’t answer your question and takes half a step back and suddenly, you see him. He is furrowing his brows in frustration, and rubbing his sweaty palms against his dress pants. He is nervous to screw this up. He is nervous to screw up his chance with you.

Lee Donghyuck always held the rope in his hands. He is prideful and arrogant, talented and intelligent, structured and always in control. It was time to see if he would rather have his pride and control, or you.

“Did you mean what you said downstairs?” You ask him, mustering all your courage to act confident.

“I did, I do.” He answers immediately.

“What else did you tell Mark that should have been said to me?”

“Being with me will be hard because I still don’t know how to be thoughtful towards others. I still don’t know how to take care of someone instead of fixing them physically. Heck – I don’t even know how to talk about my own emotions properly, but please listen to me when I say this Y/N. Are we very different from one another? Yes, and logically that should stop us from already. I will probably upset you more than make you happy. But whenever I think of my future and my dreams…” Donghyuck stops his rant to take a deep breath.

“I know you are part of each and every one of them.” His eyes were searching for some sort of answer in yours. Darting left and right, looking for a glimpse of hope between the two of you. It took you all your willpower to suppress your smile.

“I don’t deserve to beg you to choose me. But if there is even a small percentage of ‘like’ left for me.” His eyes are shining with all his emotions. Bare and raw. He is laying out all his cards – his feelings – out for you to take or leave.

He takes a deep breath, “I will take it. I will cherish it because you are my Sun, Y/N L/N. And even if you only allow one single ray of sunshine upon me, I will gratefully bask in that warmth and light forever.” His hand comes up to your face to wipe away your tears and you smile, bursting out in laughter at his words.

Never did you expect Lee Donghyuck to talk like a poet, let alone a very desperate one at that. Having the upper hand was something you had wished for from day one when he oh so confidently smacked your mistakes in your face, but it has become clear to you that he had placed the rope in your hand a long while ago.

He musters an uncertain smile on his lips after you’ve been laughing for some time. “Please Y/N… say something to me.”

“When did you realize you liked me?”

“I realized I liked you when I started doing things I never did before. And I knew I love you when the thought of not having you around started to annoy me more than when you make basic mistakes.”

“Gosh, where did that cold jerk go? You sound so sappy.” You tease him, hands trailing up his forearms.

“If I were ever to hear all of the things I just told you, I might die from embarrassment.” You nod in agreement, face nearing his neck as you speak. “Don’t give me ideas I might use against you.” He smiles down at you, “I’m ready for any challenge you give me, I will prove myself.”

“Alright, we will see about that. First challenge; replace our first kiss from downstairs with one I won’t forget.” And he didn’t need to be told twice to oblige.

SEQUEL SNIPLET ♡

"Dude, you literally cannot ask me to run your ER while you're on your honeymoon. I cannot manage my duties in cardiology and emergency at the same time!" Mark complains, signing off another form head nurse Karina handed him a few minutes ago.

"Remember when you tricked me into confessing my feelings for my wife at that conference in Busan? I consider this payback." The cardiologist can already imagine the stupid smirk on his friend's face.

"I literally helped you get laid and get a wife?"

"In the most embarrassing way I've ever imagined. She literally still laughs in my face whenever she sees a lighter. Besides, both Doyoung and Jaehyun signed it off already. You can't go back unless I am back, and I am not back until my wife had enough of me." Mark rolls his eyes at his friend acting all smitten.

"Such a simp." Haechan laughs at the other end of the phone.

"See you in three months!" The cardiologist's eyes grow wide at those words. 3 months?!

taglist: @jaeveil, @lanadreamie, @pinknini7, @undomielsql, @yxnghyxck, @hyuckysunflower, @ypoom151999, @tinyzen - thank you for your patience!

any like, reblog, comment and feedback is appreciated! if you'd like to be on the taglist of this fic, let me know through an ask or comment on this work ♡

#nct dream x reader #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #haechan x reader #nct au #jeno x reader #lee jeno #haechan angst #haechan fluff #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct angst

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bombiikki · 2 months ago

Text

𝖙he 𝖙aste 𝖔f 𝖞our 𝖑ips ⸝⸝ 𓂃₊ ⊹

⋆˙⟡ — non idol!megan x fem!reader

♯ 𝖘ynopsis : while running through the university campus, megan runs into you and falls head over heels (literally). she can’t keep her eyes off of your lips and tries as hard as she can to befriend you.

𝖈ontains : slowburn but i still dont know how to slow the burn, SLIGHT grumpy x sunshine, reader knows how to bake, megan’s cinnamon allergy is mentioned like thrice, absolute like complete fluff with no angst whatsoever, reader is a bit nonchalant… NOT PROOFREAD

𝖜ord 𝖈ount : 20.9k

𝖆uthor's 𝖓ote : sorry its been a while since ive pstoed chat anwyays first katseye fic!! guess who my bias is very difficult challanege!!!!! ermmemrm i feel like its a bit inconsitent and maybe rushed but its already like 20k words so maybe not rushed rushed 😭(its not proofread… im sorry) anwyays does anyone find it funny im writing a fic abt ginger megan when it has lietrally been confirmed that she is no longer ginger

megan sprinted through the sprawling halls of the university, her heart pounding as she clutched her timetable like a lifeline. she had promised herself that university would be a fresh start—a time to be punctual, responsible, a well-put-together student. that plan was currently crashing and burning.

“where is this damned room,” she muttered under her breath, her frantic pace earning a few curious glances from passing students.

she flicked her eyes between her timetable and the endless sea of doors, her brain struggling to make sense of the numbers. completely absorbed in her search, she didn’t see it coming. one second, she was sprinting. the next, she was on the floor.

her books scattered, her breath knocked right out of her chest. she groaned, rubbing her shoulder. what the hell had she just run into? a pole? a statue? no, a person. she blinked up, eyes widening as she took in the girl standing before her.

you had your hands over your headphones, casually pulling them off as you turned, your gaze slowly dropping to the mess of a girl on the ground. your expression was unreadable, but the slight furrow of your brow made you look almost annoyed. to anyone else, maybe even to yourself, you might have seemed like you were scowling. but to megan? that wasn’t a scowl—that was a look of effortless coolness.

her stomach did something weird. her brain short-circuited. you were gorgeous. her eyes fixated on yours, dark and piercing, like you could see straight through her. then, as if her gaze had a mind of its own, it dropped to your lips. soft, glossy, and unfairly distracting.

she swallowed thickly, suddenly hyper-aware of the way she probably looked—sprawled on the ground like some tragic rom-com protagonist. she scratched the back of her neck, laughing nervously. you just watched her.

“watch where you’re going next time,” you said flatly, your voice even, almost indifferent. then, without hesitation, you extended a hand toward her.

megan stared at it for a second too long before finally grasping it. your hand was smaller than hers but steady, effortlessly strong as you pulled her to her feet. and now, she was the one looking down at you.

a goofy, apologetic smile stretched across her face, her nerves practically buzzing. “i’m so sorry about that,” she said quickly, rubbing the back of her neck again.

you stared up at her, unimpressed. “uh-huh.”

megan, still reeling from the fact that you had actually touched her hand, fumbled with her timetable. she held it out awkwardly, pointing to the location of her first class. “do you—um—do you know where this is?”

you glanced at it, then gave a small nod. “you’re heading in the same direction i am. c’mon, i’ve already wasted enough time standing around.” and just like that, you turned and started walking.

megan scrambled after you, still slightly dazed from the whole ordeal. she trailed behind, sneaking glances at you every few seconds.

“so—uh—do you usually go around body-checking people in the halls?” she asked, a teasing grin tugging at her lips.

you didn’t even slow down. “do you usually go around running into people?”

megan opened her mouth to respond, then promptly shut it.

the rest of the walk to class was quiet—at least on your end. megan, on the other hand, kept sneaking glances at you, like she was trying to piece together a puzzle. her mind replayed the moment over and over again. she had basically crashed into you at full speed, yet you hadn’t even stumbled. you were practically an immovable force. how was that fair? she was still recovering from her fall while you walked like nothing had happened.

before she knew it, you were stepping into the lecture hall. megan followed closely, scanning the room. plenty of seats were still open, students filing in one by one, but she barely thought twice before sliding into the seat right next to you.

you placed your books down, settling into your space, when you noticed her presence. you blinked. of all the empty seats, she had chosen the one beside you. you didn’t comment on it, but she clearly noticed the way your eyes flickered to her before you turned back to your notes.

she shifted slightly, then, as if remembering something, brightened. turning toward you, she extended a hand. “i think we skipped proper introductions. my name is megan!”

the grin on her face was wide and genuine, her whiskered dimples deepening as she beamed at you. you barely spared her a glance. slow. unimpressed. a judgmental blink that made her enthusiasm falter just a little.

“y/n.” you leaned back into your seat, gaze already returning to the front of the lecture hall.

megan nodded, withdrawing her hand awkwardly. “cool. nice to meet you, y/n.”

you hummed in acknowledgment. it wasn’t much, but to megan, it was a start.

the classroom hummed with the low, dull drone of the professor’s voice as he paced at the front of the hall, animatedly introducing the semester’s syllabus. pens scratched, papers shifted, and tired eyes blinked toward the clock. you sat near the middle, posture straight, notes organized, every word you deemed important underlined neatly in your book.

you didn’t mean to notice her again, but she hadn’t moved in minutes.

megan sat to your right, eyes locked on the professor like she was watching a suspense film. her lips were slightly parted, eyebrows drawn together, her whole face tense with effort.

you glanced down at her notebook. still blank. not a single mark on the page. she didn’t even have a pen out.

your eyes narrowed slightly. what was she even doing?

maybe she was just trying to listen. or maybe she had no idea what was going on and was hoping if she stared hard enough, the knowledge would seep into her brain on its own. you wouldn’t be surprised.

you looked away. not your problem.

you shifted slightly in your seat, pushing your pencil forward. line after line, you wrote with practiced ease, your handwriting neat, precise. around you, the world faded into background noise—until she moved again. a small shift. the sound of her elbow brushing the edge of the desk. a quiet sigh, like the lecture had gone over her head ten minutes ago but she didn’t want to give up just yet.

you didn’t say anything. but something about her... stuck in your peripheral.

you told yourself it was just because she was clumsy. loud in her own quiet way. not worth the effort to get involved.

and yet, you kept glancing.

as the lecture wore on, the room slowly fell into the rhythm of the professor’s pacing voice and distant slides clicking from his laptop. you felt the air grow stale, heavy with first-day fatigue. still, megan didn’t move much. maybe she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. maybe she was trying to focus. maybe she didn’t want to seem like she was struggling—but you could tell.

not just from her empty page, but from the way she squinted at the board, her fingers twitching like they wanted to write something, but didn’t know where to begin.

you glanced at your notes. then at hers again. then back at the board.

you tapped your pen softly against your paper.

not your problem.

when the lecture finally crawled toward its ending, the room stirred. chairs creaked, zippers buzzed, and students leaned forward like racers waiting for a starting pistol. the professor gave his final remarks, and the stampede began.

you moved efficiently—books stacked, pen capped, bag slung over one shoulder. beside you, megan was a mess of limbs and paper, trying too hard to pack too fast. you didn’t need to look to know something was about to fall.

a soft thud confirmed it. a book had slipped from her pile and landed neatly beside your foot.

you sighed through your nose and bent down. your fingers wrapped around the worn edge of the book’s cover. it was a basic literature text, corners bent and spine soft from overuse. probably secondhand. probably loved, even if she didn’t fully understand it yet.

you handed it back without a word.

megan blinked at you, clearly not expecting the gesture. her hand brushed yours as she took the book. warm fingers. a little shaky. she held it to her chest like it had sentimental value.

“sorry,” she said, letting out a nervous laugh. “i keep doing that.”

you didn’t respond right away. your gaze lingered on her face—just a moment longer than necessary. her cheeks were slightly pink. her hair was a little messy from rushing. her eyes, though... they were focused. not in a sharp way, but in a determined one. like she was trying, even if she didn’t know what she was doing.

you gave a small nod. “try holding it tighter next time.”

your tone wasn’t cold, exactly. just honest. matter-of-fact.

she smiled—soft and unsure, but real. “noted,” she murmured.

you turned without waiting, slipping into the stream of students leaving the hall.

behind you, megan stood still for a moment, clutching the book tight. her gaze lingered on the back of your head, her thoughts loud in her silence. she didn’t understand you. you barely spoke. barely looked her way. and yet, she felt like she’d been noticed in a way no one else had managed.

not her heart. not yet.

just her curiosity.

and maybe that was how it started. not with a flutter, but with a question.

the campus café murmured with soft life—quiet voices blending into the hum of machines, the clatter of mugs meeting saucers, the distant rustle of wind against the windows. it was the kind of afternoon that asked for warmth. clouds hung low, heavy and silver, and rain pattered faintly on the glass.

you had claimed a seat by the window, as always. a book lay open in front of you, spine cracked and pages curling gently from age. your fingers curved around a warm cup, steam rising in slow, lazy spirals. the outside world blurred against the fogging glass, and for a moment, it was just you, your coffee, and the silence.

but peace never lasted long in a world that included megan skiendiel.

“oh! hey, y/n!”

you didn’t look up right away. your fingers stilled for a breath. then, slowly, you lifted your gaze.

there she was—hair slightly tousled, cheeks pink from the chill outside, and eyes bright like she’d just stumbled upon a hidden treasure. without waiting for so much as a nod from you, she dropped into the seat across the table, her smile as loud as her entrance.

“fancy seeing you here! do you come here a lot? actually, i do too—well, not that much, but enough that the guy at the register knows my order, which is kinda cool but also a little embarrassing, like, what does that say about me—”

“megan.” your voice cut through her rambling like the edge of a dull knife—blunt but firm.

she brightened, like a puppy hearing its name. “that’s me! i’m megan!”

you stared at her flatly. “did i ever give you the impression that i was open to befriending you?”

the question landed hard. her grin faltered, slipping sideways into something smaller. her hands tugged nervously at the ends of her sleeves. “um—no?” she said weakly. “sorry. i can—just—i’ll leave.”

she reached for her drink, trying to recover her dignity. but grace had never been on her side.

her hand knocked the cup instead of grabbing it. the lid popped, and coffee leapt forward in a dramatic arc, landing squarely on your sleeve. the heat seeped through the fabric, spreading warmth across your hoodie in a slow, sticky stain.

you blinked once, slowly, at the mess.

“oh my god—oh no—wait, don’t move!” she gasped, panic already setting in. napkins flew from the holder as she scrambled to fix what she’d broken. she lunged across the table with desperate energy, dabbing at your arm with trembling hands, napkins half-crumpled in her grip.

you didn’t flinch. didn’t scowl. just reached calmly for another napkin and cleaned the sleeve yourself.

“you’re making it worse.”

“i know! i know, i’m so sorry! i’ll—i’ll buy you another coffee! or—or a new hoodie! do you want my jacket?” she was already halfway out of it, arms wrangling with the sleeves, eyes wide with alarm.

“i don’t want your jacket,” you said simply.

she froze, halfway out of her coat, lips pressed into a tight, sheepish pout. “are you sure?”

“positive.”

megan sank back into her chair, jacket bunched awkwardly around her elbows. she watched as you wiped your sleeve in silence, your expression unchanged. no annoyance. no sighs of frustration. just calm acceptance. and somehow, that made her feel even worse.

“still,” she mumbled, picking at the edge of a napkin, “let me get you a coffee. it’s the least i can do.”

you glanced at her, then back to your cup. “i don’t need two coffees.”

“right.” she nodded quickly. “yeah, okay. just… offering.”

a pause settled. not tense. just awkward, in the way only she could make it.

you slid an extra napkin across the table without looking up. her eyes followed it, then flicked to you. you didn’t speak, but your silence carried something that settled her nerves better than any apology could.

it’s fine.

she stared for a second longer than she should have. your lashes were long. your lips slightly parted as you took another sip of coffee, the steam ghosting against your skin. she didn’t know why her eyes kept flicking down to your mouth, but they did. more than once.

and every time, her heart did a tiny skip she pretended not to notice.

“you’re, um…” she started, then trailed off. you raised an eyebrow. “nevermind.”

you didn’t press her. just went back to your book.

megan watched you for a bit longer, hands tucked between her thighs to keep from fidgeting. you were unreadable, and maybe that was what kept drawing her in. you didn’t look at her the way others did. you didn’t smile or make jokes or soften your voice. you were just... steady. unbothered. and even covered in coffee, you made it look cool.

she looked down at your lips again. her brows furrowed. weird.

she looked away.

definitely weird.

megan walked across campus with her friends, the cool morning air filled with their usual banter. nestled between lara and daniela, the two were in the middle of a ridiculous debate about the best way to peel an orange. manon trailed just behind, her voice grumbling low as she complained about school. sophia was listening with her full attention—though megan had a feeling she was just waiting for the right moment to make some over-the-top dramatic interjection, like she always did.

“okay, okay, but listen,” megan said, raising her hands for attention. the chatter around her paused as five pairs of eyes turned to her. “so, remember how i told you i bumped into y/n in the hall the other day?”

“uh-huh.” lara smirked, clearly entertained. “the scary quiet girl you’re determined to befriend?”

megan rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. “right, so,” she continued, brushing off lara’s teasing, “i saw her again. at the café. and i, uh… i may have spilled coffee all over her hoodie.”

a beat of silence passed before laughter erupted.

“oh, megan,” sophia sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest like she’d just heard the most tragic news. “oh, my sweet child.”

daniela let out a low whistle. “yikes. you really wanna befriend this girl, huh? ‘cause from where i’m standing, it sounds like you’re just haunting her.”

“noooo…” megan dragged out the word, a nervous laugh escaping her. “she doesn’t hate me.”

lara raised a brow, her voice dripping with playful skepticism. “mmm. are you sure?”

“yeah, i mean…” megan hesitated, feeling the heat in her cheeks. “she didn’t snap at me or anything. just kind of… sighed.”

“damn.” daniela snorted. “you made her sigh? that’s almost worse.”

before megan could defend herself, manon piped up from behind, stretching her arms over her head as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “y’know, i’ve actually heard about this girl. she’s kinda infamous. apparently, she’s got this whole mysterious, nonchalant dreadhead thing going on.”

lara turned to her, eyes lighting up like a match about to catch fire. “damn, girl sounds like the ultimate alpha wolf or something.”

the group froze in collective horror. then, without warning, they all cringed.

“lara, what the hell—”

“never say that again—”

“that was so bad—”

lara groaned, slapping megan’s shoulder lightly. “shut up, you guys! it sounded cool in my head!”

“it did not sound cool out loud,” sophia wheezed, doubling over in laughter. the whole group joined in, their giggles carrying through the air, momentarily forgetting about anything else.

as the laughter began to fade, daniela elbowed megan, her eyes glittering with mischief. “so, what’s the next move, huh? you gonna spill soup on her next? maybe trip and land dramatically in her arms?”

megan rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “i wish yoonchae was here. she would totally have my back.”

sophia scoffed, shaking her head. “as if! she’d be laughing at you too.”

the group chuckled again, their voices light and carefree, but before long, their schedules pulled them in different directions. megan waved them off, adjusting her bag as she made her way to her next lecture.

this time, she found the hall without any trouble.

as she approached the door, she spotted a familiar figure already reaching for it. she slowed her steps slightly, watching as you pulled the door open. she expected you to step inside without even noticing her, but instead—without a word—you held the door open just enough for her to slip through. she stopped in her tracks for a moment, her feet stuttering slightly.

it wasn’t much. just a small, effortless gesture. but coming from you? it felt different. almost intentional. megan felt her face flush unexpectedly.

“uh—thanks,” she muttered, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious as she ducked her head, avoiding your gaze.

you didn’t say anything, just let go of the door once she passed and walked ahead to your usual seat. megan, still feeling oddly flustered, followed behind and slid into the seat next to you once again, her heart beating faster than it probably should’ve been.

it wasn’t anything big. just a small thing. but for some reason, it was enough to make her think about you for the rest of the day.

the classroom buzzed with the usual chatter as students filtered in, gathering their belongings and settling into their seats. megan walked in a little later than usual, her fingers nervously tugging at the strap of her bag. she caught sight of you across the room, sitting in your usual spot near the middle, surrounded by your textbooks, already engrossed in something. as usual, you didn’t seem to notice anyone or anything around you—completely lost in your own world.

megan hesitated for a moment, biting her bottom lip. she had been trying to be more subtle, trying not to be too forward with her attempts to get to know you better. but after that weird interaction at the café, where she’d spilled coffee all over your hoodie, she felt this weird, unshakable pull to try again. maybe this time she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. or maybe she would.

with a deep breath, she made her way toward your desk, pretending not to notice the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"hey, y/n," she said, her voice tentative but hopeful, as she stood beside your desk. "i, uh, noticed you had your book out, and i was thinking—maybe you could help me with the reading? i, um, didn’t quite get all of it last night."

you didn’t even look up from your book. your pen moved slowly across the page, writing something down with deliberate precision. megan waited for a response, her fingers curling around the strap of her bag, a little awkward now.

when it became clear that you weren’t going to acknowledge her, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling suddenly out of place. "it’s just, like, some of the themes are a bit confusing," she continued, trying to force her voice to sound casual, like she wasn’t panicking on the inside. "i thought maybe—"

still nothing. you didn’t even flinch at her words.

megan let out a quiet breath, realizing you weren’t going to bite. she glanced at the seat next to you, where an empty chair sat, untouched. she knew there was no point in pushing further. if you weren’t going to respond, that was that. so, with a small sigh, she moved to sit in the chair next to yours.

she could feel your presence next to her, the quiet hum of your focus that always seemed to fill the air around you. it was as though you had built this invisible wall between yourself and the rest of the world. and maybe that was why she felt so drawn to you—because there was this layer of mystery she couldn’t quite crack.

she tried to focus on her notes, but her attention kept drifting back to you, her eyes flicking to the page of your book, to the way your fingers held the pen. it was like a magnetic pull, something she couldn’t control.

"y’know," she said again, a little louder this time, "it’s kind of funny. we’re both doing literature, but we’ve barely talked."

you glanced up at her for the briefest moment, your eyes meeting hers for just a split second before you returned to your book. no expression crossed your face. no acknowledgment of the comment. just a quiet return to your work.

megan blinked, unsure of how to take it. she was so used to her friends always responding, always engaging in conversation. but with you? it felt like she was talking to a wall.

undeterred, she went on, trying to keep the conversation alive. "i mean, we’re in the same class, and it’s not like we’re strangers. we’ve sat next to each other before. it just feels like… i don’t know, we should talk more."

this time, you shifted in your seat just slightly, as if her words had reached you in some distant corner of your mind. but still, no response came. you were too absorbed in the pages in front of you, too lost in whatever thoughts you were wrapped up in.

megan huffed quietly, her fingers tapping nervously against her notebook. she had no idea how to break through your quiet shell, and honestly, she was starting to wonder if it was even possible. maybe you really didn’t want anything to do with her. maybe she was being too much.

but then, almost imperceptibly, she noticed it—a shift in the atmosphere, a subtle change. she saw your hand, still resting on the desk, and for a brief moment, her gaze flickered down to your fingers. her eyes lingered there, caught in that tiny detail, the way your hand looked so still, so controlled. for a second, she forgot about everything else. her heart skipped just a little, and she caught herself staring longer than she meant to.

when she realised what she was doing, she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing. what the hell was wrong with her? why did she keep doing that?

her mind scrambled to find a distraction, any distraction, but the rest of the class was beginning to settle, and you still hadn’t acknowledged her. she wondered if you even noticed her at all. or maybe you didn’t care. either way, it didn’t seem like you had any interest in being her friend.

the lecture began, and she fell silent, pulling out her own textbook, trying to focus. but even as she opened the pages, her thoughts kept returning to the quiet figure next to her—the person who was always just out of reach, no matter how hard she tried.

weeks had passed, and your days had fallen into a routine so predictable it bordered on suffocating. every time you entered your english lecture, you knew what would happen: megan would find a way to wedge herself into your personal space, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

you weren’t sure how or why she had chosen you. she could’ve befriended anyone, really. but no, she picked you. and despite your every effort to keep her at arm’s length, she just didn’t stop. she waved at you on campus, started conversations without even waiting for an invitation, and cracked jokes even when you didn’t smile. she was relentless.

you didn’t hate her. well, you didn’t think you did. but the thing was, you didn’t like people in general. there was your roommate, haerin, but aside from her, you preferred being alone. and megan? she was like this constant, unpredictable force of companionship. it wasn’t that she was unbearable. no, it was just that you couldn’t understand her persistence. it made no sense but still, there she was every single time.

you sighed as you entered the lecture hall, already steeling yourself for another hour of megan's uninvited presence beside you. you slid into your usual seat in the middle of the room, your eyes flicking briefly toward the door. but megan didn’t walk in.

the professor arrived, and students filed in, but still, the seat beside you remained empty. you told yourself it didn’t matter. people skipped class all the time. it was hardly a big deal. especially not because it was megan. why would you even care?

but somehow, your gaze drifted back to the door every few seconds. just once, you told yourself. just one glance. you mentally cursed yourself for it. you didn’t even know why you were waiting for her, but the door stayed quiet. no ginger hair. no voice that made you roll your eyes. nothing.

you forced your attention back to the professor, but the lecture didn’t do much to hold it. your fingers tapped idly against your desk as your mind wandered. megan had probably overslept. or maybe she just didn’t feel like coming. maybe something came up—anything, really. anything that didn’t involve her vanishing on you like this.

the professor’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. class was over. students were already packing up, rushing to the door, and you suddenly realised you hadn’t written down a single note.

frustrated, you slammed your notebook closed and began stuffing it into your bag, feeling the familiar weight of guilt settle in. just as you were about to stand up, the professor called out.

“y/n, can you come up here for a second?”

your stomach lurched. you hadn’t done anything wrong. or at least, you didn’t think you had. but being singled out in front of an entire lecture hall always felt uncomfortable, and the knot in your stomach made it worse. reluctantly, you stood and trudged toward the front.

the professor gave you a quick once-over, his expression shifting from focused to concerned. “are you alright? you seem a little... standoffish today.”

you blinked, hesitating for a moment. “uh—yeah. i’m fine. what’s up?”

he sighed and folded his hands on the desk in front of him, leaning slightly toward you. “i hear you’re an excellent tutor. you work with high school students, don’t you?”

you nodded, still unsure where this was heading.

“well, one of the students in this class is struggling,” he continued. “i’ve already spoken with her about it, and i wanted to ask if you’d be willing to tutor her.”

your stomach dropped, unease settling in. tutoring wasn’t a bad gig. it was easy money, and you were good at it. but the way he phrased it... it felt like he was preparing you for something you wouldn’t like.

“sure,” you said, your voice slow and careful. “who is it?”

your professor smiled faintly, as though this were a casual request. “oh, i’m sure you know her. you sit next to each other every day. always talking. i’m sure she’s been talking your ear off.”

you didn’t need to hear her name. you knew exactly who he was talking about.

“megan skiendiel.”

you inhaled sharply, your chest tightening. of course. of course it was her.

you forced a tight-lipped smile, nodding stiffly. “yeah—no, i, uh... i know her. really well.”

your professor gave you a small, approving nod. “great. she’ll be expecting you to reach out to her soon. she’s a bright student, just needs a bit of extra help to keep up.”

“right,” you muttered, still trying to process what had just happened.

as you turned to leave, your professor called after you. “oh, and y/n? she’s a great kid. i think you’ll get along fine.”

you gritted your teeth, nodding again, though your mind was already elsewhere. the idea of tutoring megan wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was downright absurd. you knew the professor meant well, but all this would do was add more weight to the constant, relentless pressure of megan’s presence in your life.

it was as if the universe had conspired against you. your quiet, solitary routine? broken, all thanks to one ridiculously persistent girl. you weren’t sure if you were doomed or just really, really unlucky.

megan sat in her usual seat, right in the middle of the lecture hall, her pen spinning between her fingers like it had a mind of its own. the room filled slowly with the usual noise—pages flipping, backpacks unzipping, quiet greetings exchanged between friends—but her focus wasn’t on any of that. it hadn’t been for a while now.

her knee bounced beneath the desk, a restless rhythm she didn’t even notice. there was no reason to feel this fidgety, no reason for the weird flutter in her chest.

and then the door opened.

she didn’t have to look to know it was you. she’d learned the shape of your presence by now—the quiet that followed you in, the slight shift in the room’s gravity, like something steady had just entered. megan turned her head anyway, because of course she did, and there you were.

hoodie, headphones half-dangling out your pocket, that usual deadpan expression on your face like you hadn’t slept in three days and were fine with never sleeping again. she smiled before she could stop herself, a small, involuntary thing. she straightened in her seat, ready to say something.

your eyes met hers for barely a second before you looked away. you didn’t smile. didn’t nod. didn’t say anything. just that familiar blank look that bordered on annoyance, like you’d just seen someone park too close to your car.

you sat beside her, opened your notebook, and started writing.

megan deflated like a popped balloon.

still, she didn’t speak. not this time. she’d been learning—painfully, slowly—that you weren’t the type to respond well to forced friendliness. pushing too hard made you fold up like a pocket knife. so today, she told herself she’d chill. just a little. just enough to not scare you off entirely.

the lecture started. the professor’s voice floated somewhere above her, but her mind didn’t follow. her notes were a disaster—half-finished sentences, crooked lines, one doodle of a cat in the margin that somehow turned into a croissant.

she snuck glances at you in between pretending to write. you were, of course, fully focused, scribbling down notes in that sharp, precise way that made your handwriting look more like art than words. it was unfair how cool you looked while doing absolutely nothing.

class dragged on and megan sighed. she shifted in her seat, telling herself to stop being weird.

then finally class ended.

students stood, bags rustled, and chairs scraped the floor. megan moved to pack her things, already halfway out of her seat.

“megan.”

her name. her name. from your mouth. she turned so fast she nearly knocked her pen off the desk.

you looked vaguely annoyed. but that wasn’t new.

you pulled a sticky note from your bag, scribbling something down in that same sharp scrawl. without looking at her, you held it out.

“it’s my number,” you said flatly. “for tutoring only. i’ll text you the time. library, probably.”

megan stared at the note like it might explode. her fingers closed around it slowly, carefully, like she didn’t trust it not to vanish. her brain, meanwhile, completely short-circuited.

you’d given her your number.

your number.

you kept talking—something about where, when, rules—but she heard none of it. her ears were ringing. her heart was doing backflips. all she could think was your number.

“uh—yeah! yeah, okay! totally!” she said too loudly, fumbling for her phone, nearly dropping it as she tried to punch the digits in. her fingers betrayed her completely.

you narrowed your eyes, unconvinced. “did you even hear what i said?”

“yes!” she blurted. “tutoring. library. uh… numbers. yes.”

she gave a laugh that sounded way too close to a squeak and clutched the note to her chest like it was made of gold leaf and unicorn wishes.

you just stared at her for a beat longer, then turned to leave with a simple, dry, “just don’t be annoying.”

megan pouted. “rude,” she mumbled, but you were already halfway out the door, swallowed by the flood of students.

she stood there for a moment, still blinking like she’d dreamt the whole thing. slowly, she looked down at her phone, at the number now saved in her contacts. her heart did another unnecessary flip.

she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

the library breathed quiet all around you, soft and steady like it had lungs of its own. pages turned like whispers, footsteps padded gently across carpet, and megan sat across from you like a storm pretending to be calm.

her pencil tapped a restless rhythm against the edge of her notebook. her notes were scattered in organized chaos—half-underlined passages, scribbled thoughts in the margins, and one crumpled page sitting like a wounded soldier between you.

you sat back in your chair, arms crossed, gaze fixed on her with that same unreadable look. your patience wasn’t limitless. and today, she was pressing her luck.

“again,” you said flatly.

megan groaned, slumping forward. “but we’ve talked about this metaphor, like, five times. i think the book just hates me.”

“no,” you replied. “it just requires basic reading comprehension.”

she glared at you, then let her head drop to the table with a soft thud. her face squished against the wood.

she mumbled something unintelligible into the surface.

“what was that?”

she turned her head slightly, her cheek still pressed to the desk. “i said maybe i should just drop out.”

you didn’t miss a beat. “maybe you should just read.”

your voice was sharper than usual, irritation coloring the edges. you flipped open her copy of the novel and jabbed your finger at a highlighted section she kept misinterpreting.

“this paragraph. out loud.”

“torture,” she groaned, but sat up, dragging her finger under each word like it might help them stick. her voice was quiet, cautious, like the sentence might bite her if she read it wrong. when she finished, she let out a sigh like she’d just climbed a mountain.

you didn’t blink. “explain it.”

she blinked right back. “uh… it’s raining because he’s… sad?”

you stared at her, deadpan. “try again.”

megan sighed dramatically and squinted at the text. “okay, okay—maybe… the storm is reflecting his inner turmoil? like, it’s not just sad. it’s destructive. because he feels guilty or angry or something.”

you raised a brow, just barely. “keep going.”

she tilted her head. “and... the lightning is like a warning? like something’s about to snap?”

you raised a brow, finally, finally something close to approval. “better.”

megan blinked. “wait, was that a compliment?”

“no.”

“you so wanted to say ‘good job.’ i heard it in your tone.”

“you’re hearing things.”

she smirked, sitting up straighter, suddenly renewed with energy. “admit it. i’m getting better.”

you sighed. “you’re getting less terrible.”

“same thing.”

she scribbled down the analysis, muttering little notes to herself as she connected the lines between the imagery and the character’s descent into guilt. you watched her quietly. despite the dramatics, she was absorbing it. slowly. painfully. but surely.

“what even is this line supposed to mean?” she asked, jabbing her pencil at the page. “‘his heart was a locked door, rusted shut with secrets’? like, sir. what does that even mean?”

you reached across the table, took her pencil, and jotted a few notes next to the quote.

“it’s a metaphor for emotional repression,” you said. “he’s closed off. guarded. and his secrets aren’t just locked away—they’re decaying. damaging him from the inside.”

megan blinked, wide-eyed. “whoa. that’s kind of… deep.”

“that’s the point.”

she rolled her eyes but smiled, copying down what you wrote. “okay, grammar robot. i get it now.”

“we’re not even doing grammar,” you muttered.

“doesn’t matter. you’re still a robot. but like, a helpful one.”

you leaned back in your chair, arms crossed again. “are you always this annoying?”

“pretty much,” she said cheerfully, stuffing her notes back into her folder. “but hey, admit it—you’d miss me if i wasn’t.”

you stared at her. didn’t say anything. but your silence said enough.

megan grinned. you looked away.

she kept smiling anyway, like she’d won something important.

a few minutes later, she hit another roadblock. she just stared at a sentence like it might magically explain itself if she stared hard enough. your patience thinned by the second. finally, you reached over, took her pencil, and rewrote the line in a clearer way.

“this is why you’re confused,” you said, voice low but still annoyed. “you’re looking for answers without understanding the character’s voice. if you read it like this—” you adjusted the tone of the line as you read it aloud “—then the subtext makes sense. right?”

megan nodded slowly, eyes wide. “ohhh. okay. that actually helps.”

you handed her pencil back and leaned back again, arms crossed. “obviously.”

she copied your version into her notes and smiled. “thanks, by the way.”

you didn’t meet her eyes. “don’t mention it.”

but megan swore—swore—she saw the faintest twitch of amusement pull at the corner of your mouth. not a full smile. just enough to give her hope.

rain came suddenly that afternoon, slipping over the sky like someone had pulled a curtain closed. it started as a drizzle, soft and apologetic, then swelled into a downpour that soaked through shoulders and notebooks in seconds.

you didn’t bother with an umbrella. you never did.

lecture ended late, and students scattered from the building like startled birds, heads bowed against the wind, laughter sharp and shivery in the cold. you stepped into the rain like it was nothing new.

you’d made it halfway across the quad when a voice called out behind you, too bright for the grey day.

“hey! hey—wait!”

you stopped walking.

megan was jogging toward you, already damp, clutching a small, plain black umbrella above her head. she looked almost comical in how unfitting it was—such a serious thing for someone who was all color and clumsy smiles.

she reached you breathless, shoes splashing into puddles, her hair sticking to her cheeks.

“you’re gonna get drenched,” she huffed, raising the umbrella higher. “here—move closer.”

you looked at her, unimpressed. “i’m fine.”

“you’re not.” she stepped closer anyway, and the umbrella shifted until it was tilted mostly over you. “this is how people get pneumonia, y’know.”

you didn’t move.

her eyes met yours, and she gave a small shrug. “just… humor me, okay?”

you didn’t move.

she tilted her head, water slipping down her cheek. “please?”

that was the part you hated. the way she said it like it cost her something. like she meant it.

you sighed, stepping under the umbrella. not fully. just enough so your shoulder brushed hers.

“see?” she said brightly. “not that hard.”

you didn’t reply. you just walked. the umbrella bobbed awkwardly between you two, not quite big enough for both, so megan tilted it more your way every time it slipped. her notebook was getting soaked, clutched to her chest, and her shoes squelched with every step, but she didn’t complain.

you watched her from the corner of your eye. she hummed a little, off-key and cheerful, like she didn’t notice the cold, or the way your arm brushed hers every few seconds.

and when she noticed your gaze, she smiled at you. small. like she wasn’t trying to make it a moment, but still hoped it might be one.

“you didn’t have to,” you muttered finally.

“i know,” she said. “but i wanted to.”

the walk was quiet, save for the sound of water hitting pavement and the soft breath of her hum—off-key, forgettable, but oddly comforting. she didn’t try to fill the silence with words. she didn’t ask questions or tell jokes or try to get you to laugh like she usually did. she just walked beside you, shoulder to shoulder, like it was the most natural thing.

when you got to the dorm building, she stopped at the entrance, shaking the umbrella out. her sleeves were dripping now, her hair frizzing at the edges.

“see? not pneumonia today,” she said with a grin.

you hesitated. “you’re soaked.”

“yeah, well. sacrifice for the greater good.”

you gave her a flat look. “i’m not the greater good.”

“sure you are,” she chirped. “don’t fight it.”

you rolled your eyes and reached into your bag, tugging off your hoodie and shoving it into her arms.

she blinked. “wait, what—”

“you’ll catch something. dry off,” you said.

“but this is—wait, hey! you’ll be cold!”

“i’ll live,” you shrugged, continuing to walk down the street and passed the dormitory entrance

“uh… wait,” she said, jogging to catch up. “don’t you live—?”

“no,” you muttered. “apartment complex. down the street.”

“oh.” she blinked, still following you for a few paces. “that’s kinda far in this weather…”

“it’s whatever. i do this every day.”

“wait—but now you’re gonna be soaked—”

“i already am.”

“but—your hoodie—”

“then give me the umbrella,” you said flatly. “if i get sick you’ll be annoying.”

she blinked. then, slowly, she adjusted the hoodie on her shoulders. “fine. but only because you called me annoying so nicely.”

you turned and took megan’s umbrella, it now covering only you.

“hey!” she called after you. “bring that back tomorrow, okay? the umbrella, i mean.”

you didn’t look back. but your voice came, low and dry through the rain.

“maybe.”

that night, she texted you.

megan. megan ARE U HOME??? OR DID U DRONW DRAMATICALLY IN A PUDDLE SOMEWHERE ??? y/n i said this number was for tutoring only megan ok so u didnt drown dramatically in a puddle! great!! y/n the umbrella’s safe megan good! and thanks for not dying

you didn’t reply back. you didn’t need to. and as megan’s umbrella was sat outside your apartment door drying, you felt a small smile creep onto your lips.

megan had a theory. a frustrating, confusing, absolutely mind-breaking theory.

you claimed—on multiple occasions—that you didn’t want to be friends with her. that you weren’t interested in talking to her, or sitting next to her, or entertaining her presence in any way. and yet, you still helped her. constantly.

it wasn’t obvious, and it definitely wasn’t intentional, but megan saw the pattern. the way you always—always—picked up her stuff when she dropped it. the way you held doors open for her without even looking back, like it was just instinct. the way you wordlessly nudged her notebook back toward her when it started slipping off the desk.

it was driving her insane. like right now.

megan had just reached into her bag, ready to grab her notebook, when she froze. her hand hovered in mid-air, and she let out a soft groan of frustration. “ugh, i forgot my—”

before she could even finish, she felt the familiar weight of something landing softly on the desk in front of her.

she blinked, confused, then looked down. her notebook. her gaze flickered up to find you sitting across from her, calmly flipping through the pages of your own notebook, as if nothing had happened.

“you left it under your chair,” you said, voice as flat and unbothered as ever, your pen scratching lightly across the paper.

megan stared at you, then down at the notebook, her brow furrowing. it took her a moment before she reached for it, still bewildered by the suddenness of it all.

“wait… where did you—?”

you didn’t even look up as you shrugged, clearly uninterested in the question. “i picked it up for you.”

“you just—picked it up for me?” she repeated, still half in disbelief.

you met her gaze for the first time, your expression flat. “yeah. it was under your chair.”

her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, like she couldn’t figure out whether to be annoyed, impressed, or something else entirely.

“you say you don’t want to be friends, but—”

“we’re not,” you interrupted, cutting her off mid-sentence with a nonchalant tone, your eyes now back on the pages in front of you.

megan gasped dramatically, pressing a hand over her chest as if you had physically wounded her.

“then why do you keep helping me?”

you sighed—long and loud, like this conversation was draining the life out of you. rubbing your temple, you leaned back in your seat.

“i don’t help you. i just… react.”

“react with kindness,” megan pointed out, crossing her arms stubbornly, a small smirk pulling at her lips.

you groaned in response, standing up and tossing your stuff into your bag with the exaggerated movements of someone who was so over this interaction.

“it’s not that deep, megan.”

but megan wasn’t about to let it go. not this time. she leaned forward, a determined glint in her eyes as she tapped her finger against her chin, squinting at you like she was on the verge of solving some kind of intricate puzzle.

“hmmm. i think you secretly like me.”

you froze for just a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for her to notice. it was such a tiny shift, but it didn’t escape her. the sudden hitch in your movements, the way your hand stilled for just a moment too long as you reached for your bag. megan’s eyes widened in realisation.

“…i don’t,” you said, voice a little too flat, a little too unconvincing.

“you hesitated!” she said with a grin that seemed to grow with every passing second. “oh my god, i knew it!”

you quickly regained your composure, and your voice came out flat, almost defensive, but the faintest hint of something more was still there. “i didn’t hesitate.”

megan’s gasp was even louder this time, utterly scandalized by the tiny crack in your armor. she sat up straight, her grin widening, practically glowing with victory. “you totally did.”

you sighed so hard it felt like the air left your lungs in one giant rush. your shoulders slumped under the weight of what felt like an impossible conversation. you slung your bag over your shoulder, standing to leave as if you were escaping a trap.

“it’s not that deep,” you muttered, walking towards the exit, already mentally preparing for the rest of your day without this distraction.

but megan wasn’t letting you off that easy. not this time. she followed after you, her voice practically bouncing off the walls with energy. “it is that deep!”

you didn’t turn around. instead, you walked faster, trying to ignore the sound of her footsteps right behind you, the weight of her words lingering in the space between you. the only thing you could focus on was getting out of the room, away from the relentless tug of her curiosity, her insistence, her… kindness.

megan stood there for a moment, watching you walk away, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her face. her heart fluttered, a mix of excitement and something warmer, deeper, that she couldn’t quite place. but she knew one thing for sure—whether you wanted to admit it or not, you were being nice to her. and that meant one thing: megan wasn’t giving up anytime soon.

her eyes lingered on your retreating figure, and despite her frustration, despite the wild confusion swirling in her mind, she felt a quiet thrill. maybe, just maybe, the theory was right. maybe you weren’t as indifferent as you liked to pretend.

and that small, silly thought made her smile even wider.

the library was quiet, save for the soft rustling of pages and the occasional tap of a keyboard. the usual smell of books filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of coffee from the café nearby. megan sat across from you, eyes glued to her textbook, her pencil moving in quick, frantic circles around the same sentence. she had been at it for a while now, but something just wasn’t clicking.

"ugh, this is impossible," she muttered under her breath, letting her head drop onto the table with a dull thud.

you didn’t respond right away, which was the usual. you were focused on your own work, barely sparing her a glance. but then, megan cracked a joke, her voice a little too loud for the quiet library.

"maybe this is just some cruel test to see how many times i can fail before i drop out of literature," she said, letting out a soft laugh. "at this point, i think they should just give me an honorary degree in 'trying my best.'"

for a moment, there was nothing but silence. and then, just as megan was about to continue her self-pitying rant, she swore she heard it. a soft scoff, just a brief exhale of amusement. but it wasn’t just any scoff—it was a scoff that almost sounded like a laugh.

megan blinked, looking up at you with wide eyes. your usual stone-faced expression was still there, but something was different. there was a faint curve to your lips, like you were holding back a smile. megan’s heart skipped a beat.

"did—did you just—?" she trailed off, not quite sure how to finish the sentence.

you glanced up at her for a second, your gaze meeting hers, before quickly looking away. you didn’t say anything for a long moment, but then you spoke, voice slightly more casual than usual.

"maybe," you said, leaning back in your chair. "but if you're going to make jokes, at least make them funnier than just dropping out."

megan sat there, dumbfounded. was this real? the reader, the one who had been nothing but grumpy and aloof, was actually engaging with her? not shutting her down, not ignoring her completely, but actually talking to her?

"okay, what is happening right now?" megan asked, her voice more breathless than she meant it to be. she leaned forward, staring at you like you were some kind of puzzle she was still trying to figure out. "you’re actually responding to me. this is—this is new."

you just raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not interested in explaining yourself. "yeah, well. you’re not as unbearable as usual."

megan’s mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. "oh my god, i’m making progress, aren’t i?"

she grinned, feeling a surge of confidence. "i knew it. i knew i could crack you."

you let out a quiet sigh and turned your attention back to your own work. "yeah, whatever. just focus, okay? you’re still not getting this."

megan watched you for a moment, then glanced down at her textbook again. but it was hard to focus now, with you actually engaging with her. you had a way of making everything seem like it mattered, even if you didn’t say much.

she tried to concentrate on the passage, but her mind kept wandering back to you. you weren’t paying attention to her at all, your eyes fixed on your notes, but something about the way you were sitting—so casual, yet so precise—made her lose her train of thought. she caught herself staring at you, and when you glanced up for a brief moment, your eyes met hers, but neither of you said anything.

megan bit her lip, then shook her head and turned her attention back to the work in front of her.

"you’re still not focusing," you said, your voice almost too calm, too detached.

megan blinked at you. "huh? oh—yeah, sorry, just… got a little distracted."

"just get better," you hummed in response, your lips barely twitching at the corners.

megan could still feel the warmth spreading through her cheeks, her thoughts jumbled and her heart still thumping in her chest. but at least, she thought with a small, shaky smile, maybe there was a chance—just a small one—that things were changing.

megan wasn’t sure what she was expecting today, but it certainly wasn’t this.

yesterday, for the first time ever, you actually spoke to her in full sentences. not just clipped responses, not just nods—actual words. it had felt like a victory. like she was getting somewhere with you, breaking through that wall of silence and indifference you always hid behind.

but today? today, you were back to square one.

the tutor session started off fine—well, as fine as these things could be—but megan noticed almost immediately that you seemed off. your usual quiet detachment had morphed into something sharper, colder. your responses were shorter, more clipped, and there was an edge to your words she hadn’t seen before.

“wrong. try again.”

“seriously?”

“how do you not get this?”

it wasn’t that you hadn’t been blunt before, but this time, it felt different. there was no softness beneath your words, no reluctant amusement in your eyes, no tiny sighs of exasperated fondness. just coldness. detachment. complete disinterest.

an hour passed like this, and by the end of it, megan felt utterly deflated. she sat there, staring at the textbook, wondering what had gone wrong. it wasn’t like she had expected everything to suddenly be different. but yesterday had felt like progress. today? today, it felt like all that work had been for nothing.

she barely said a word as the two of you left the library, the weight of your silence heavy between you. she wasn’t even sure why she was so bummed about it—this was how you had always been. yesterday was just a fluke. a rare moment of warmth she should’ve known better than to expect again.

but then, just as she was stepping forward, something happened that completely threw her off.

without thinking, without looking up from your own thoughts, you reached out and held the door open for her. it was such an automatic gesture, so instinctual, that it completely caught her off guard. her feet nearly tripped over themselves as she walked past you, her heart skipping a beat as she blinked down at the door. she had to stop herself from looking too long, afraid that if she did, you’d notice how much the simple act affected her.

but you didn’t acknowledge it. you just stepped out of her way and continued walking toward the lecture hall like nothing had happened. megan bit her lip, trying not to smile. she’d gotten so used to the coldness, the distance, that she’d almost forgotten the little things you did without thinking.

then, when you reached the lecture hall, you did it again.

you pulled open the heavy door, held it for her, and let it linger just long enough for her to slip inside before you followed behind. she couldn’t help it—her smile widened, her cheeks flushed with warmth. she hadn’t expected this. not today, of all days. but here you were, quietly making her day a little brighter with something as simple as holding the door.

she was still trying to catch her breath when she heard a voice from near the front of the room.

“ugh, megan is so annoying,” a guy muttered loud enough for her to hear. “does she ever shut up? seriously, it’s like she doesn’t have an off switch—”

he cut himself off as soon as he saw megan walk in, his whole demeanor shifting as his gaze fell to the floor. but megan wasn’t looking at him. no, her attention was entirely on you.

because you—who had spent the last hour acting like she was barely worth your time—were now glaring at the guy. glaring like you were about to rip him to shreds. your eyes were narrowed, your entire body tense, like you were two seconds away from throwing him out of the room with nothing but your bare hands.

the guy noticed, clearly, because he quickly scoffed, trying to brush it off. “what are you looking at?”

without missing a beat, you responded, voice as dry as ever. “just wondering what it’s like to have a face like that. must be exhausting when you look like a failed experiment every day.”

megan’s jaw dropped. she hadn’t expected that. she hadn’t expected you to stand up for her, to defend her in your own... uniquely snarky way. she was still trying to process the fact that you, of all people, had spoken up when no one else did.

the guy scowled, but said nothing else. he just turned back to his notebook, no longer meeting your gaze.

but megan? she was smiling. no, scratch that. she was grinning like a complete idiot. she could feel the warmth spreading through her cheeks as she struggled to keep it together. you had just stood up for her. you. and now her heart was doing backflips in her chest.

you turned to look at her, your eyes catching her expression, and immediately scoffed.

“what are you smiling about?” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

“nothing,” megan replied, her grin only growing. “just… you standing up for me was so awesome sauce.”

“maybe i should be tutoring you on how to expand your vocabulary,” you shot back, clearly unamused. but as you reached into your bag for your notebook, megan swore she saw the faintest hint of a smile on your lips.

her heart fluttered at the sight. there it was again. the small cracks in your cool exterior that she was beginning to notice more and more.

she couldn’t stop herself from smiling, her gaze lingering on you for just a second longer than she should’ve. you caught her staring, of course, but you didn’t say anything.

another tutoring session. another hour of megan dropping everything she touched. honestly, you were starting to think she did it on purpose. it was like a chaotic performance, and she was the star.

first, it was her pen. then her notebook. then—somehow—her entire bag tipped over, spilling half its contents onto the floor. every time, your reflexes kicked in before your brain even had time to process it. a quick catch, a swift grab, a sigh. you barely even looked up from your own notes anymore. it had become muscle memory at this point.

so when megan, with her usual clumsiness, nudged a book off the table, you caught it before it even had a chance to hit the ground. the soft thud of it landing in your hand was so automatic, so effortless, that it barely registered in your mind.

her gasp was so loud you thought she might actually start clapping. “you caught that? that was so cool—”

you groaned inwardly, already regretting it. “hurry up and grab it before i regret it.”

she snatched the book from your hands, still grinning like she’d just witnessed some incredible magic trick. her eyes were sparkling with that contagious enthusiasm of hers.

“you’re, like, weirdly good at that,” she teased, her voice light and playful. “i bet if i—”

“don’t,” you interrupted before she could finish, already bracing yourself for whatever absurd thing she was about to do next.

her lips twisted into a pout, but she quickly gave up on the idea, flipping the book open and skimming through the pages like she was actually going to focus for once. you could practically feel her disappointment at the lack of attention she was getting from you. but you weren’t going to indulge it. not this time.

you rolled your eyes, returning to your own notes, grateful for the quiet that surrounded you. the library was peaceful, save for the occasional scratch of pens against paper and the faint hum of whispered conversations. the kind of quiet you could almost lose yourself in.

almost.

but then came the sighing. and the shifting in her chair. and the little mutterings under her breath, all of which took every ounce of your patience not to call out. instead, you buried yourself in your work, trying to ignore the distraction she was becoming. until—

“ugh, this is so annoying,” megan groaned, her voice heavy with frustration. her pencil was gripped tightly in her hand, her brows furrowed in concentration as she stared at the paper in front of her.

you barely noticed at first. barely thought. your eyes were still glued to your notes when, without hesitation, you reached over and nudged her paper, pointing at one of the sentences. “you wrote that backwards.”

megan blinked, looking at you like you’d just spoken in another language. “wait, what?”

“your sentence,” you said, still not fully registering what you’d done. “you flipped the words.”

she tilted her head, her focus now fully on the paper, and then her eyes lit up like she’d just discovered the answer to a riddle. “oh—wait, that makes so much sense,” she said, quickly erasing the mistake and fixing it. then, her eyes widened in wonder. “how did you even notice that?”

you shrugged, doing your best to seem indifferent. “i’m your tutor for a reason.”

“oh yeah! you’re so cool for that.” she beamed, her expression full of admiration.

your face immediately shut down. you leaned back in your chair, the blank expression falling into place like an old habit. “whatever. just finish the assignment.”

but megan wasn’t even listening. she was still grinning at you, her face practically glowing with genuine delight. it wasn’t teasing, it wasn’t smug—it was just... sheer happiness. and somehow, that made everything worse. because now you were the one who couldn’t focus.

she tapped her pencil against her chin, still smiling to herself like she’d just stumbled upon the greatest discovery in the world. “huh,” she said, her voice light, as if she’d just realised something interesting.

you side-eyed her, instantly suspicious. “...what.”

her grin widened even more, her eyes sparkling with some inside joke you didn’t quite get. “nothing.”

you groaned, not quite believing her. “megan.”

“it’s nothing,” she repeated, sing-song, her tone light as air.

you gave her a look that was part confusion, part exasperation, but she only giggled in response. and then, to your surprise, she actually returned to her work. properly this time. no more fidgeting, no more sighing in frustration. she was focused. like she actually cared about finishing the assignment.

and, for some strange reason, that made you feel... weirdly satisfied. as though, by some miracle, you had actually done something right. not that you’d ever admit it, of course.

the rest of the session passed in a sort of quiet rhythm, the two of you working side by side in the same space. there was no more tension, no more fighting to keep her attention. just the sound of pens and pencils against paper, the occasional rustle of pages turning, and a subtle sense of progress hanging in the air.

when the hour came to an end, megan closed her notebook with a soft sigh of relief. “i think that’s the best i’ve done all week,” she said, her tone almost surprised, like she hadn’t expected herself to actually finish.

you glanced at her, your expression neutral, but your mind was somewhere else. somewhere... soft.

“you’re welcome,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

megan paused, her eyes widening slightly as she caught the smallest hint of a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “did you just... say ‘you’re welcome’?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

you quickly turned your attention back to your bag, making a point not to look at her. “don’t read into it,” you said, voice curt. “just finish your work next time.”

but megan, of course, couldn’t resist. she was already looking at you with that same grin, her heart still racing from the unexpected warmth she felt in that moment.

“thanks,” she said again, this time with a little more sweetness.

and for once, you didn’t roll your eyes. you didn’t snap. you just nodded, almost imperceptibly.

it was another quiet afternoon in the library, the kind of stillness that was usually peaceful but today felt oddly oppressive. you sat alone at a table, surrounded by stacks of books, your fingers absently tracing the edge of an open notebook as your thoughts drifted. the words on the page blurred in your peripheral vision, nothing but vague shapes on the paper, your mind a million miles away.

and, against your will, your thoughts landed on her. megan.

it was a thought that always seemed to catch you off guard, as if it snuck up on you when you weren’t paying attention. no matter how many times you tried to push her away, megan just didn’t stop. and it was honestly a little impressive.

most people, after a few stink eyes, a couple of blunt "leave me alone"s, would’ve backed off. they would’ve taken the hint, respected the boundaries that you had set so clearly. but not megan. she just kept trying. and it wasn’t even some grand, over-the-top persistence. no, it was simpler than that. it was consistent. she’d try again the next day. and the next. and even when it was obvious that you were being short with her, even when you gave her nothing to work with, megan would still smile, shrug, and try again. there was something almost admirable about it. but also irritating as hell.

you’d fully expected her to snap at some point, to get frustrated and give up. everyone did, eventually. everyone but her.

it wasn’t like megan was particularly charming or persistent in some over-the-top way. it was just the fact that she was always there. day after day, week after week. she showed up, smiling, ready to talk, ready to crack a joke, ready to do the thing that most people would’ve stopped doing long ago: be nice.

and, as strange as it was, it started to make you... uncomfortable. you weren’t used to people being that patient with you. most people didn’t give a damn if you were having a bad day or didn’t feel like talking. most people just went about their business, avoiding you when you pulled back, not bothering to force small talk or offer unsolicited help.

but not megan.

it made you wonder, sometimes, if there was something more to it. something beneath the surface that megan wasn’t showing. why the hell was she doing this? why bother?

at first, it was annoying. megan’s constant smiling, her easy conversations, her attempts to reach out—it felt like an invasion. but then, it became normal. just another part of life, like the rhythm of the seasons. megan would show up, sit down next to you in class, try to talk. sometimes, she’d drop a pencil. sometimes, she’d just ask how your day was going, like it mattered.

it wasn’t a big deal. or so you thought.

but then, without realizing it, you found yourself getting used to her presence. the annoying little smile in the corner of your vision, the sound of her voice in your ears, the casual way she’d pass by your desk in the library, so familiar, so constant. it was fine.

and then something shifted in you, right there and then. you realised you didn’t actually want her to stop. the thought hit you like a lightning strike, and for a moment, you froze. you wanted her to keep showing up. you wanted her to keep being there. but that was ridiculous, right?

you couldn’t admit that. not to yourself. certainly not to her.

lost in these conflicting thoughts, you barely noticed megan until she was suddenly standing right in front of you, towering over your desk.

you blinked up at her, an eyebrow raised, clearly questioning her presence.

"i don’t recall texting you to meet here for a lesson," you said dryly, your voice flat.

megan grinned, completely unbothered. "well, you didn’t!" she said cheerfully, unphased by your sharp tone. "but i figured i’d come hang out."

you sighed, rubbing your temples as if to ward off the headache that was already beginning. "this is the library. i’m working. you’re not supposed to be here."

megan didn’t even flinch at your tone. "i’ll be quiet. promise." she sat down on the opposite side of the table, pulling out her own textbook, completely content to just be there.

for a moment, you were stunned into silence. what was this? was she really just... sitting here? you had half a mind to say something else, to tell her to leave, but the words didn’t come. instead, you muttered, almost under your breath, "you should work on your work for other classes too. or even just literature."

megan gave a dramatic roll of her eyes. "erm... no thanks."

you shot her a look, as if trying to will her into leaving, but she just grinned back, wide and playful.

"you’re impossible," you muttered, leaning back in your chair, crossing your arms.

"yep," megan agreed, not missing a beat. "but it’s fun, isn’t it?"

you paused, then sighed, giving in because, well, what else could you do? you couldn’t make her leave, not when she was acting this... stubborn. "fine. just don’t make noise."

"promise!" she said, settling in with her book. now and then, she’d glance up, giving you that big, bright smile of hers.

and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but glance at her once or twice, your mind still spinning with the same impossible thought: you didn’t want her to stop.

y/n 😍😘🥰😛❤️🫶 megan THE LIVRARY IS CLOSED 😭😭😭 ITS UDNER CONSTURCTION 👿

megan typed frantically on her phone, a frown spreading on her face as she stood in front of the campus library. a sign was plastered onto the doors, a sign that read “UNDER CONSTRUCTION”.

y/n yes i am aware its been closed all day megan well i dont rlly go to the librayr so 🤷‍♀️ WAIT WHERE R WE SUPPOSED TO DO OUR TUTOR LESSONS NOW ☹️ y/n ill send u my apartment address just go up to my place and ill open the door for u megan WAIT UR APARTMENT?? WHY UR APAREMTN??? HUH

megan had never imagined she'd end up at your apartment for tutoring.

she’d expected maybe a local library as the new location for a session, maybe a coffee shop—somewhere neutral, somewhere public—but instead, here she was, standing on the fifth floor of a building she’d never been to before, double-checking the address you had sent her just minutes ago.

she had to be at the right place. the numbers on the door matched, the hallway looked exactly like the one in the picture you’d attached, and, well… it wasn’t like she had another choice now. so she took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and then it swung open, revealing someone that was very much not you.

megan blinked. "oh. uh."

the girl standing in the doorway had long, sleek black hair and sharp, cat-like eyes that seemed to gleam with amusement. she was around your height, maybe a little shorter. she leaned against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips like she already knew something megan didn’t.

"um," megan started, suddenly unsure of herself. "does y/n live here? or… am i at the wrong apartment? sorry, i’ll just—i can leave if—"

the girl chuckled, cutting off megan’s nervous rambling with a lazy grin. "y/n!" she called back into the apartment without taking her eyes off megan. "the ginger is here for you!"

megan stiffened. "the ginger?"

before she could say anything else, you appeared in the hallway, looking as unbothered as ever. "oh. you’re here."

"yeah?" megan said, giving you a seriously? look. she gestured vaguely to the girl. "who—?"

"haerin," you said, motioning lazily in her direction. "roommate. childhood friend. not really someone you needed to know about until now."

megan gawked at you. "you’re really gonna be like that?" megan asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and mild amusement.

"i’m not giving you personal details for no reason," you replied bluntly, crossing their arms.

"you’ll get used to it," haerin said, patting her shoulder before disappearing into the apartment.

megan shook her head, not sure what to say to that. "so, uh, why the lesson here?" she finally asked, hoping to change the subject.

"my place is closer to campus than any local library," you explained nonchalantly, walking past her to the kitchen area. "plus, I can bake at home."

megan almost tripped over her own feet. "you bake? why didn’t i know this!?"

"this isn’t common knowledge," you deadpanned. "so, of course, you wouldn’t know."

she huffed, plopping down at the counter while you started setting things up. as she pulled out her books, she glanced around. "your apartment is really nice," she said. "kind of big for just two people."

"keep the small talk to yourself," you muttered, already rummaging through ingredients. "just do your work."

megan ignored you, tapping her pen against her book. "so what are you baking?"

"dunno," you admitted. "i don’t have anything specific in mind."

she grinned. "make something for me."

you sighed. "anything i should know about? any food allergies?"

megan waved her hand dismissively. "nah, i’m fine." then, after a beat, casually added, "oh, i’m allergic to cinnamon."

you froze mid-motion, your face going blank as you stared at her. “and you were just going to let me figure that out on my own?”

megan shrugged, all innocent. "well, i would’ve told you if i saw you using it!"

you muttered something under your breath before very pointedly removing anything cinnamon-related from the counter.

megan’s heart did this funny thing where it fluttered, because—well, that was kind of sweet.

she tilted her head, watching you move around the kitchen. "oh, if you’re baking something for me, can it be savoury?"

you stopped what you were doing. turned to look at her. stink-eyed her.

"savoury?" you repeated. like the word itself was offensive.

"yeah!" she said, warming up to the idea. "like… i dunno, something cheesy? or maybe a pastry with some herbs—"

you narrowed your eyes. "herbs?"

"what?" she said, laughing. "you don’t like savoury pastries?"

"i do not," you said flatly. "pastries are meant to be sweet. if you want something savoury, eat a sandwich."

megan gasped, placing a hand over her chest like you’d just insulted her entire existence. "a sandwich? excuse you—"

"do your work, megan," you cut in, already turning back to your ingredients.

she pouted but eventually started working on her assignment. you baked in the background, and every now and then, she asked for help with something (and successfully distract you with random commentary).

by the time you finally handed her a plate, the smell of something sweet had filled the apartment. megan barely took a bite before making a ridiculously happy noise.

"oh my god," she moaned dramatically. "this is amazing. you’re amazing."

you just shook your head, unimpressed. "of course you’re like this."

she grinned at you, then returned to her work. only for you to casually point at her paper. "you made a mistake here."

megan blinked and looked down at her paper. "...oh."

the lecture was long, as always, but megan found herself glancing over at you more than usual. she wasn’t sure why. maybe because something felt different—small, barely noticeable, but still different. you weren’t talking much, but you were listening. actually listening.

whenever she spoke, you nodded here and there, your eyes flicking to hers when something piqued your interest. you didn’t shut her down immediately. you weren’t giving her the cold shoulder. it wasn’t much, but to megan, it felt like progress.

the moment class ended, she quickly packed up her things, hurrying to catch up with you before you could disappear into the crowd.

"so, i've got a joke," she said, grinning, practically bouncing on her feet.

you gave her a flat look, hands stuffed into your jacket pockets. "what’s the joke?"

"okay, okay," she cleared her throat, doing a dramatic drumroll on her leg. "how do you tell the difference between a snow-man and a snow-woman?" she paused, barely containing her excitement. "their snowballs!"

silence.

for a second, megan thought she completely flopped, but then a scoff. quiet, barely audible, more of an exhale than a laugh. but it was something.

megan’s eyes widened. "wait—" she turned to look at you fully. "did you just laugh?"

your face immediately went blank, like you regretted even reacting. "no."

"you so did!" she pointed at you accusingly, her smile growing. "oh my god, was my joke that good?."

"it was horrible." you rolled your eyes, walking ahead. "don’t get ahead of yourself."

but megan swore she saw something—a tiny twitch at the corner of your mouth, a barely-there smile that you were definitely trying to suppress.

before she could tease you about it any further, a familiar voice called her name.

"megan!"

she turned and found her friends staring at her. well, not at her, exactly—at you.

"wait, is that y/n?" manon asked, her voice loud with disbelief.

"y/n?" sophia’s eyes darted between you and megan. "since when did she talk to you?"

megan felt her face heat up. "um. since always?"

lara snorted. "you wish. you’ve been chasing after her since the start of the semester and getting nothing back."

"not nothing," megan argued. "i’ve been making progress."

daniela narrowed her eyes. "define ‘progress’."

"well," megan hesitated, her smile twitching as she thought back to the joke. "it wasn’t exactly a laugh, per se, but it was, like… a scoff."

"they scoffed?" lara deadpanned. "that’s your progress?"

"no, no, it was a funny scoff," megan insisted. "like a mini-laugh."

daniela gasped dramatically. "you got y/n to almost laugh?"

megan bit her lip, failing to contain her excitement. "yeah. i mean… yeah, i did."

her friends exchanged glances, then collectively lost their minds.

"holy shit," manon whispered. "megan, you’re actually insane."

sophia shook her head in amazement. "we need to document this moment."

"you should’ve recorded it," daniela groaned. "proof! we need proof!"

megan just stood there, basking in the ridiculousness of it all. her friends were treating this like she had just tamed some wild beast, but honestly? she kinda got it.

because, for the first time, she wasn’t just throwing herself against a wall, hoping it would budge. today, something had shifted, just a little. something real.

she glanced back at you, who was already a few steps ahead, pretending to be unbothered by all of this.

but megan saw the way your hand twitched, like you were suppressing the urge to shove them off and walk faster. and she swore—just for a second—she saw that almost-smile again.

the apartment was quiet today, the kind of quiet that made megan’s own thoughts feel louder. she sat at the kitchen counter, flipping through her notes, while you leaned against the opposite side, scrolling through your own work.

the library was still under construction, so your apartment had become the temporary tutoring spot. megan liked it better here, even if she wouldn’t admit it. it felt different. less cold, somehow. but today, she felt the weight of your gaze more than usual. it wasn’t like you to stare, but she could feel it—quick, sharp glances every time she hesitated over a word, every time her pencil hovered over the page for a little too long.

she tried to ignore it, focusing on the assignment in front of her. but the more she tried, the more aware she became of every little thing—

the way she had to reread sentences to make sure they made sense. the way she mixed up letters when she was writing too fast. the way she avoided reading things aloud unless she absolutely had to.

you weren’t just staring. you were noticing.

"ugh," she groaned, leaning back in her chair, rubbing at her temples. "why is this so hard?"

"because you’re not paying attention," you said, not looking up from your own work.

"i am paying attention," she huffed. "it’s just—the words are, like, fighting me."

you flicked your eyes to her notebook, scanning the page. your voice was casual, but the question you asked next made her freeze.

"you ever been tested for dyslexia?"

her stomach dropped. she gripped her pencil a little tighter. "uh. why?"

you shrugged, eyes still on your work. "just wondering."

but megan wasn’t stupid. she knew what that meant. you had figured it out.

she forced a laugh, hoping to change the subject. "are you sure you’re here to tutor me? or did you just want an excuse to get to know me better?"

you gave her a blank stare. "megan. you’re failing."

"okay, rude," she muttered, sinking lower into her seat.

you didn’t press the dyslexia thing any further. and for that, she was grateful. but she could tell you knew now. and even worse? she could tell you cared.

it wasn’t anything obvious. just little things.

when you handed her a new worksheet, the font was bigger than before. when she hesitated over a word, you didn’t rush her. when she fumbled a sentence, you rephrased it instead of making her repeat it.

you never brought it up. never pointed it out. but megan noticed. and it made her stomach do that weird, fluttery thing again.

at some point, she tapped her fingers against the counter and mused, "you know, if you’re gonna make me work this hard, the least you could do is make me a snack."

you raised an eyebrow. "a snack?"

"yeah, you should put your baking skills to use again," she propped her chin on her palm. "make me something."

you scoffed. "what do i look like, your personal chef?"

"c’mon, pleaaaase?" she gave you her best puppy eyes.

you groaned, but she could tell you were already giving in. "fine. what do you want?"

she hummed, pretending to think. "something savory this time."

you stopped mid-motion, turning to stare at her like she had just cursed you out. "savory? in baking?"

"yeah?" she blinked innocently. "what? you still don’t like savory pastries?"

"absolutely not." your face twisted in pure disgust. "i refuse."

megan snorted, watching you pull out ingredients anyway. "wow, okay, didn’t realise you had such strong opinions on this."

"because it’s wrong," you deadpanned. "savory baking should not exist."

she grinned as you begrudgingly started gathering supplies. she wasn’t getting a savory pastry, but she was getting something. and that was enough.

when you eventually set a plate down in front of her, she took a bite and let out an exaggeratedly happy sigh. "you’re just too good."

you rolled your eyes, but she caught the tiny quirk of your lips before you turned away.

megan never thought she’d actually get here. when she first met you, you barely spoke to her. your responses were cold, clipped, uninterested. you shut down almost every attempt she made at befriending you, and you never gave her any encouragement during your tutoring sessions. all business, all the time. but that was months ago.

now, sitting in english class, staring down at the grade on her assignment, she could hardly believe it.

she actually did well.

"holy shit," she breathed, blinking at the paper in her hands. she read the grade again. then again. her heart thumped in her chest, excitement rising like a tide. "i actually passed?"

you, sitting next to her, barely looked up from your own paper. "you didn’t just pass," you said flatly. "you did well."

megan stared at you, her grin breaking across her face. "i did well." she turned back to her paper. "oh my god, i actually did well!"

you sighed, but she caught it—the way the corners of your lips twitched, the way your eyes flickered with something warm before you turned back to your notes. but megan wasn’t letting this go. she poked your arm. "you’re totally proud of me."

you rolled your eyes. "bare minimum isn’t worth being proud of."

"wow." she gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "you wound me."

you huffed, but she saw it again—another twitch of your lips. and that? that was enough for her to claim victory.

"c’mon, we have to celebrate."

you barely had time to register the day before you realised you were in your apartment again, and megan was pushing her way in, a cheap bottle of champagne in one hand and two plastic cups in the other.

you sighed, rubbing your temple. "megan, it’s just one assignment."

"one assignment that proves i am a genius," she declared, setting the bottle on the counter. "and guess what? i owe it all to you!"

you leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. "so your plan is to get drunk over one good grade?"

"okay, first of all, it’s, like, barely alcoholic. second of all, this is a huge deal for me!" she shot you her best pleading look. "just one drink? to celebrate?"

you stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. "fine. one drink."

megan cheered, dramatically pouring the fizzy liquid into the cups like she was some kind of sommelier. she handed you one, then clinked her cup against yours with a grin. "to the best english tutor ever."

"bare minimum," you reminded her, but you still tapped your cup against hers before taking a sip.

"oh, admit it," megan teased, leaning against the counter, her eyes gleaming. "you’re at least a little happy for me."

you didn’t answer. not verbally, at least. but there was something in the way you looked at her, something that softened just enough to give you away.

and somewhere in between her rambling, you smiled. without thinking, without meaning to. because for once, she wasn’t struggling, wasn’t frustrated or defeated. she was just happy.

and for some reason, that made you happy, too.

later, after the mini celebration had died down, you were both in your room, books and notes spread across your bed. megan sat cross-legged, absently twirling a pen between her fingers. you were hunched over your laptop, typing away at something for another class.

she sighed dramatically, flopping backward onto your mattress. "you know," she mused, staring up at the ceiling, "with this mark, i don’t think i need a tutor anymore."

you didn’t even look up from your laptop. "trust me, you still have a long way to go. this one mark is nothing."

megan smirked, tilting her head toward you. "sounds like you don’t want to get rid of me."

you sighed, closing your laptop, and without a word, you dropped onto the bed beside her.

megan blinked, her heart skipping, caught off guard by the sudden shift. she turned her head to look at you, and—oh.

you were already looking at her. not glaring, not annoyed—just looking. it was the kind of look she never would’ve gotten from you a few months ago.

"yeah," you murmured, voice softer than she’d ever heard it. "maybe i don’t."

megan’s breath caught. she should say something. she should. but all she could do was smile.

it happened again. you weren’t even surprised at this point.

megan had arrived at your apartment for another tutoring session, her arms overflowing with notebooks and snacks, a familiar grin stretching across her face. "i swear i'm staying awake this time," she had declared, full of confidence that, frankly, she didn’t deserve.

you just raised an eyebrow. "sure."

you both started off strong—actual studying, actual work being done—but as always, it didn’t last.

the transition was always the same: she’d start fidgeting, then rambling about something completely unrelated, then eventually lean back against your bed, stretching out like she belonged there.

"my brain is melting," she groaned at some point, tossing her pen onto the floor dramatically.

"five-minute break?"

you gave her a look. "you say five, but we both know you’re gonna pass out."

"nuh-uh," she mumbled, already shifting to get more comfortable. "i'm wide awake—"

and then she was gone. out like a light, sprawled across your mattress, her notes slipping from her fingers.

you sighed, running a hand down your face. "unbelievable."

at first, you used to try. you used to shake her shoulder, nudge her arm, call her name. but now?

it wasn’t worth the effort. instead, you just leaned back against the bed frame, letting silence settle over the room. your eyes flickered to the chair in the corner, where an extra pillow sat neatly, a spare blanket draped over the backrest.

your gaze drifted back to megan, her breathing slow and steady. you exhaled, closing your eyes for just a second. and then you were asleep, too.

when you stirred awake, the room was dimmer, bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun.

you blinked blearily, adjusting to the light. then, as your brain slowly switched back on, you noticed something.

megan had moved. still asleep, but no longer sprawled out carelessly. instead, she had curled in on herself, her arms tucked close, her entire body subtly shivering.

you stared. then, without thinking, you moved.

with a quiet sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed, padding over to the chair. the blanket was soft beneath your fingers as you pulled it free, walking back to where megan lay.

you hesitated for only a second before draping it over her, making sure it covered her completely.

she mumbled something, shifting slightly, and for a moment, you thought she had woken up. but then she just buried herself deeper into the warmth, her shivers gradually subsiding.

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you sat back down. you weren’t soft. this wasn’t a big deal. but when megan woke up the next morning, she didn’t mention the blanket. she just smiled.

the doorbell rang, pulling you out of your half-dazed thoughts. you weren’t expecting anyone, not today. you had planned to rest after a morning filled with back-to-back classes. but then you heard the unmistakable sound of haerin’s voice calling out from the living room.

"oh, it's you," megan's voice came in, followed by a cheerful laugh. "thanks for letting me in, haerin."

you didn’t think much of it at first, letting your eyes slip closed again, trying to tune out the noise of megan’s excited chatter with haerin. the sound of the door closing reached them faintly, and you felt a slight tug in your chest.

what was that?

you shook your head, trying to focus on sleeping again, but it was hard to ignore the growing noise in the apartment. megan and haerin were talking. megan laughing, haerin responding with one of her dry remarks. it felt oddly louder than usual.

the weight on your chest shifted, becoming a small discomfort.

it wasn’t like you were particularly close to megan yet. yet, hearin megan laugh so easily with haerin, without any hesitation, it tugged at something inside you.

but that didn’t matter. you’d just rest. megan could do whatever she wanted.

then, the soft creak of your bedroom door interrupted your thoughts.

megan was standing there, staring at you. her smile faltered for a moment as her eyes scanned over the bed.

"you, uh... sleeping?" she asked hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure whether to interrupt or not.

haerin's voice echoed faintly from the hallway, "yeah, y/n’s had a long day, don’t bother hertoo much."

megan nodded in understanding, quietly stepping into the room. she took a moment to observe you. you had your eyes shut and you were lying on your side. your body seemed relaxed, no tense muscles, no scowls. megan couldn’t help but notice how different you looked when you weren’t glaring at her, how soft your face appeared.

it felt like a privilege to see you like this—calm, unguarded. she caught herself staring at the curve of your lips, the peaceful rhythm of your breathing. she couldn’t help but inch closer, wondering what it would be like to be this close without the usual tension. she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to—

"you know i’m awake, right?"

your voice was low, slightly groggy, but sharp enough to catch megan off guard. megan blinked, looking away quickly, her cheeks burning. "uh, sorry, i didn’t—"

you opened one eye, giving her a look that was equal parts amused and irritated.

"you’re basically burning a hole in my skull," you muttered, raising an arm to cover your eyes as if shielding themselves from the world.

megan’s heart was pounding in her chest. "i wasn’t—"

"whatever," you grumbled in response. “are you here for tutoring?”

“yeah, i hope it’s ok i showed up without notice.” megan replied.

you hummed in response as you kept your eyes shut. "just do whatever for a few minutes. i need to get ready for the lesson."

"okay," megan agreed, her voice a little quieter now as she stood up. she glanced back at you, already adjusting yourself on the bed, completely unfazed.

she made her way out to the living room, where haerin was sitting with both a laptop and ipad opened on the table.

"hey, haerin," megan called, taking a seat next to her.

"hey," haerin responded, her eyes flickering up briefly before returning to the screen. "you want to play?"

megan grinned. "is that roblox? hell yeah i wanna play!"

within moments, they were laughing, both of them completely absorbed in the game. megan was animated, laughing loudly whenever something funny happened, nudging haerin playfully with each win. the two seemed to click effortlessly, bantering back and forth like old friends.

and that’s when it started to happen.

you stood in the doorway, arms crossed over their chest, watching the two of them with a mix of irritation and confusion.

you hadn’t intended to linger, but something about seeing megan, that laugh, that carefree attitude—something about it was unsettling.

"are you here to study or play roblox?" you muttered, your voice low, though sharp enough to catch their attention.

megan, still giggling, didn’t even look up. "huh? oh, right. studying. one sec—haerin just shot me in arsenal, i need a rematch."

you clenched your jaw without thinking, feeling something twist inside. "arsenal can't be that fun," you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

but haerin noticed. she looked up, a smirk forming on her lips. "jealous?" she asked, her tone dripping with amusement.

"of you? as if," you snapped back, your eyes narrowing.

haerin’s smirk only widened. "sure, whatever you say."

meanwhile, megan was so wrapped up in the game, in the laughs, that she didn't catch the tension building up in the room. she nudged haerin again, laughing at some silly moment in the game. it was like they had known each other forever.

you, standing in the kitchen with arms crossed, could feel something boiling just beneath the surface. the irritation, the discomfort—it was building. but you couldn’t quite place why it bothered you so much.

it was just megan, just haerin, right?

and yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being left out. it made no sense. it shouldn’t matter. megan and haerin were fine together.

but for some reason, watching them interact like that felt wrong.

the evening was supposed to be productive. megan had shown up again, arms full—notes in one hand, snacks in the other, and that same bright grin she always wore like it was stitched onto her face. and for once, she was actually prepared to work. but then, of course, it happened again.

her laugh echoed in the living room. "hey, haerin, did my outfit eat or did it eat?" she asked, bubbly and carefree like she didn’t have anything to study for.

you groaned under your breath, flipping open your book, as if pretending to focus could somehow override the noise bouncing off your walls.

this was becoming a routine. not the kind you liked. you were supposed to be tutoring megan. instead, you sat there, listening to megan and haerin giggling over roblox like they were middle schoolers at a sleepover.

you clenched your jaw, trying to force your focus back onto the pages in front of you. but the constant giggles and chatter coming from the two made it impossible to concentrate.

"megan, i swear, if you don’t stop in five minutes," you warned, fingers tightening around the edge of the book.

five minutes passed. you slammed the book shut a little harder than you meant to. the sound cracked through the apartment like a warning shot.

"forget it. i’m done," you grumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.

"wait, what?" megan called from the living room, her voice startled, but you didn’t answer. didn’t look. didn’t breathe. just walked straight to your room and closed the door behind you. not slammed. just firmly shut.

megan blinked after you, stunned. she turned to haerin, who was sipping from a soda can like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"is she okay?" megan asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

haerin looked at her over the rim of her cup, her expression completely deadpan. "she's pouting."

"pouting??" megan's eyes widened. she looked back toward the bedroom door where reader had disappeared, her heart a little confused. pouting? like a child?

"yep," haerin confirmed, completely nonchalant. "you’re paying more attention to me than her. it’s kinda funny, actually."

megan’s face turned bright red almost instantly. "what? no, that’s not—i mean, i’m just playing! it’s roblox! you can’t even focus while playing roblox, right? it’s like a brainless game!*"

haerin just shrugged, unbothered. "whatever you say. but it’s pretty obvious that she’s annoyed. she’s been giving you the stink-eye whenever you laugh too loud."

"i—uh—what do i do?" megan asked, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. she felt a little nervous, unsure if she had done something wrong without realizing it.

"nothing," haerin replied simply, grinning mischievously. "just let her sulk for a bit. she'll get over it."

megan stood there awkwardly, now completely aware of the fact that reader was in their room pouting over something so small. it felt ridiculous to be worried, but she couldn’t help it. she felt bad, like she had done something wrong.

"i’ll go talk to her," megan said quickly, already moving toward the door.

"you do that," haerin called after her, still drinking her soda with an amused look on her face.

megan hesitated at the door, taking one last glance at haerin. "thanks for... uh... you know, telling me?" she mumbled, then quickly headed to reader’s room.

but you weren’t the type to just “get over it.” megan realised that the second she stood in front of your door, hand poised to knock, and found it locked.

"let me in, please! i’m sorry! i’ll study, i promise!" she whined, knocking like her life depended on it.

there was a long pause before the door creaked open, your expression looking like you were willing to kill someone right that second—megan just hoped she wasn't a potential victim.

"you should be making that promise to yourself," you said, voice flat, "because you putting off studying doesn’t affect me in any way."

"why’d you storm off like that?" she asked, eyes big with concern.

you crossed your arms, stepping aside to let her in. "the two of you were being too loud while i was trying to get you to study," you replied, the words low and flat. "it’s kind of hard to have you focus when all you’re doing is laughing and... whatever other nonsense."

megan bit her lip, feeling an ache in her chest. she hadn’t meant to cause that kind of distraction. "oh..."

"just go ahead and sit down," reader added, opening the door wider and sitting onto their bed. "we can start the lesson when you’re ready.”

megan sat at the edge of the mattress, unusually quiet, hands fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. the air between you felt thick—like neither of you really knew how to bridge the gap that had formed.

finally, she cleared her throat. "hey, um... are you mad at me?"

you didn’t even look at her. "no."

"then let me ask again—why’d you storm off like that?" she said, her voice small but persistent.

you exhaled through your nose, pressing your fingers to your temple. "because you were supposed to be studying, not—" you stopped yourself, jaw tight.

she waited.

"not ignoring me," you finished, voice barely above a whisper.

the room went quiet. you could feel her staring at you, and god, you already regretted saying anything. you hated this feeling—the way your chest felt exposed, like she could see every thought in your head.

"sooooo," she grinned, eyes twinkling, "you were jealous."

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. "get out."

she just laughed, bright and musical, the sound of someone who knew they had won. "what happened to the whole ‘i have to study’ thing?" she teased, standing up like she might actually leave.

"fine," you muttered. "you can stay. just shut up about it."

she plopped back down beside you with the biggest smile on her face, her heart hammering. you didn’t look at her, but you could feel the warmth creeping into your ears.

and maybe—just maybe—you didn’t really mind her being here at all.

you were walking to class with megan again, the morning air crisp and clinging to the edges of your hoodie sleeves. not that it mattered much—you weren’t wearing your hoodie.

megan was.

it hung a bit too big on her, sleeves drooping past her wrists, hood swallowing her whole if she tugged it up. but she wore it like it was made for her. like she belonged in it.

"your hoodies are literally the comfiest things in the world," megan said, voice muffled as she buried her chin into the collar. "like seriously, what fabric is this? cloud? dream? heaven?"

you shot her a sideways glance, unimpressed. "cotton."

she laughed, light and unbothered, her grin tugging at your chest in that way it always did now. "okay, ms. buzzkill. i'm just saying i should sleep over more often. this hoodie is the best part of my morning."

you gave her a deadpan glance. "you basically sleep over every night."

she didn’t even deny it. she nodded like that was the most obvious thing in the world. “yeah, and?”

you sighed through your nose. “do you even remember what your dorm looks like?”

“wow, so concerned for my well-being,” she said with a teasing smile. “should i be flattered?”

you shook your head. “i’m concerned because you might as well have moved in.”

megan laughed at that, the sound light and free. “lara’s actually started noticing. she keeps asking where i’ve been kidnapped to every night. i just tell her i’m at a friend’s.”

you stuffed your hands in your pockets. “funny. didn’t know i counted as a friend.”

“you don’t,” she shot back easily, nudging your arm with hers. “you’re more like a permanent grump with an open-door policy.”

“sounds about right.”

“still,” she added, voice softening just a bit, “you don’t exactly kick me out either.”

you stared ahead, silent.

“wait,” she said suddenly, eyes sparkling as she turned to you, “are you saying you like having me around?”

you shot her the coldest, deadliest side-eye you could muster. “i didn’t say anything. if anything, i’d say you’re over too often. it’s annoying.”

she just beamed, unaffected. “you never complain when i’m actually over though.”

“doesn’t mean i’m not silently suffering.”

“mmm,” she hummed, bumping your shoulder again, “but you love me.”

“since when did i say that?”

“you didn’t,” she grinned. “but if i was that annoying, you wouldn’t let me hang around so much. you’d lock the door. stop answering texts. ghost me.”

you rolled your eyes. “i do ghost you.”

“yeah, for like twenty minutes. then you reply with ‘what.’ that’s affection in your language.”

you didn’t respond right away. just kept walking, the campus around you gradually filling with other students. your silence made megan glance up at you, curious.

you slowed your pace, glanced at her. the wind tousled her hair just enough to make her look like something out of a dream. you looked away before your brain could short-circuit completely.

then you said it—quiet, almost under your breath, but clear enough that she caught every syllable.

“okay then. point proven. maybe i do.”

megan blinked. then her eyes went wide, lips parting in surprise. and you regretted it immediately. almost. not quite.

but the way she looked at you made something inside your chest squeeze, like it was folding into itself and blooming all at once.

you didn’t even realize you’d slowed to a stop again until she stepped closer, brushing your arm with hers. she was still wearing your hoodie. she still smelled like your laundry detergent. and she was still staring at you like you’d just rewritten her entire universe.

"you—" she started, but the words stumbled off her tongue.

you raised a brow, leaned in slightly. "me?"

her cheeks burned. she didn’t say anything. just stared at you for a second too long.

you glanced at her lips.

why the hell were they so—

nope. you looked away. cleared your throat. speed-walked three steps ahead like you hadn’t been caught absolutely staring.

megan caught up easily, giddy and way too smug. “guess this nonchalant nerd isn’t so nonchalant after all,” she sang softly.

“i will literally throw you into a bush,” you muttered.

she laughed again, bright and easy, like it didn’t even register that you’d said something vaguely threatening.

you reached the doors of your shared literature class and you held the door open for her without saying anything. megan bumped your shoulder as she passed, still smiling like she’d won a game you hadn’t agreed to play.

and maybe she had.

you didn’t have another class until the late afternoon, so after the literature lecture, you headed back to the apartment, your hoodie—which you stole back from megan—still warm from the walk and mind already craving silence. haerin was by the door, slipping on her shoes with one hand and holding a half-bitten granola bar in the other.

“thought you had class all day,” she said without looking up.

“not 'til three,” you replied, kicking your shoes off and dragging yourself past her.

she popped the last bite of granola into her mouth. “must be nice.”

“mm.” you headed to your room.

haerin paused before leaving, squinting at you over her shoulder. “by the way, megan left something in there. i think.”

“what?”

“some giant bag thing. dunno. probably her entire closet.”

you opened your door and yeah—there it was. a duffle bag in the corner, looking way too familiar. you stared at it, blinking slowly, before your phone buzzed.

meganmegan heyyy i think i left my dance stuff in ur room LOL sorry 😭😭 can i come get it?

you looked at the bag. then at the text. then back at the bag.

y/n i’ll bring it.

her response came instantly.

megan WHAT REALLY? ure actually the best omg thank u i love u forever

you sighed, the ghost of a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. of course she was dramatic. and of course you were going to bring it anyway.

the campus was buzzing again by the time you got back, students weaving in and out of buildings like ants on a mission. you hated being part of the chaos, but whatever. she forgot her stuff. it’s not like you were doing this because you wanted to see her or anything. you were just being responsible.

you found the dance building easily. the music was already echoing faintly from the open studio windows. when you peeked inside, it took two seconds for megan to spot you.

she ran over like a golden retriever, eyes wide, messy bun bouncing.

“you brought it!!” she beamed, practically snatching the bag from your hands. “you’re actually the best person alive.”

“you forgot it,” you said plainly.

“yeah but you brought it.”

behind her, a voice called out. “megan! hurry up! warm-ups are starting!”

megan turned briefly to wave back, then looked at you again, her face lit with gratitude. “seriously, thank you.”

you nodded, already stepping back to leave—until she suddenly hugged you. tight. warm. her arms wrapped around your middle like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you froze a bit. but you didn’t pull away.

“thanks again,” she said, pulling back slightly only to lean up and press a kiss to your cheek. “you’re the best.”

and then she was gone. running back to her studio with a quick wave, bag slung over her shoulder like it weighed nothing.

you just stood there.

the spot where her lips had touched your cheek buzzed like static. your brain stalled. you weren’t sure how to feel—because wow, that was something.

behind her, you caught sight of the voice from before—daniela, you think—pointing at megan with a wide grin.

“i’m so telling the group chat!” she yelled.

“shut up!” megan shouted back, smacking her in the arm, face redder than the dance floor mats.

you blinked, still rooted in place. you weren’t sure what that feeling was. it was warm. light. confusing. soft.

and you hated how much you didn’t hate it.

it was sometime in the late afternoon, that strange hour where the sun was lazy and the air sat too still. you should’ve been relaxing—maybe finishing up that one book for literature or taking a nap, anything except what you were doing now.

which was pacing.

you were pacing back and forth in the hallway like a maniac until you spun on your heel and stormed straight into haerin’s room without knocking. she was lying on her bed, phone in hand, legs swaying absently in the air. the glow of her screen lit up her blank expression.

“stop texting your girlfriend,” you announced dramatically, arms crossed. “i’m in a crisis.”

haerin didn’t even flinch. “she’s not my girlfriend.”

“yet,” you shot back.

“what’s the crisis this time?”

you dropped yourself onto her beanbag chair like a sack of unresolved feelings. “megan.”

haerin blinked. “shocking.”

“i’m serious. she just—she just barged into my life. i had walls. like really tall, impenetrable ones. and she just climbed them. no, she sprinted up them like some kinda golden retriever ninja hybrid.”

haerin snorted. “she did do that, yeah.”

“it was annoying at first,” you continued, flopping your head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling like it held answers. “she clung to me like a leech. always smiling, always talking, always asking me to hang out. i thought it’d stop after a few days. but it didn’t. and now... now i can’t even force myself to hate her. like, i tried. but i physically can’t.”

“so basically what i’m hearing is,” haerin said, her voice as dry as the desert, “you like megan.”

“well yeah, of course i like megan. why else would i tolerate her? she’s a really good friend.”

haerin turned her head slowly. “no. like. you like like her.”

you blinked. “...ohhh.”

haerin raised an eyebrow.

“oh,” you said again, but slower, softer. “oh god.”

your brain went somewhere else entirely. all at once it hit you—megan’s stupidly pretty face, her laugh, her clingy hugs, the way she beamed at you whenever you did the smallest thing for her. and then that kiss on the cheek. the one that left you frozen like a glitching NPC in the hallway, your soul ascending somewhere above campus.

“i’m doomed,” you whispered.

“you’re down bad,” haerin corrected.

“what do i do?” you sat up, sudden and desperate. “do i confess? do i write her a poem? do i bake her something? oh god, she has an allergy, what if i kill her by accident—”

“relax,” haerin cut in. “start small.”

“like...?”

“movie night. invite her over. keep it casual. flirty but chill. and if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get another kiss on the cheek.”

you looked at her like she’d just handed you a secret spell. “movie night.”

“that’s what i said.”

you didn’t even wait another second. phone out. fingers flying. heart racing. before your logic could ruin everything, you typed:

megan y/n hey. wanna come over for a movie night?

message sent. now all you could do was stare at the screen and wait. and maybe scream into haerin’s pillow if she didn’t answer fast enough.

sophia’s apartment was always home to the group. megan liked it here. it was clean in a way her dorm with lara never quite managed to be, and it had this warm, lived-in feel that made her relax the second she stepped inside. pillows on the couch. half-done puzzle on the coffee table. someone’s socks dangling off the armrest like a lazy flag of surrender.

manon was flopped on the rug like a dying starfish, scrolling aimlessly through her phone. daniela sat cross-legged beside her, braiding her own hair and unbraiding it five seconds later. lara had claimed the good chair, arms crossed, smirking whenever anyone said something stupid. sophia was busy cutting up fruit in the kitchen while giving passive-aggressive reminders about not staining her couch again.

and then there was yoonchae—curled up on the edge of the couch with a whole aura of “i’m the youngest and therefore the main character”. she was flicking through tiktok at an ungodly speed, snorting every now and then. she hadn’t said much, but everyone knew she was quietly storing ammunition for the next roast session.

megan sat between lara’s chair and daniela’s foot, hugging a pillow to her chest. she wasn’t really participating in the conversation—just nodding, humming, giving a tight little laugh here and there. her mind was somewhere else. or more accurately, someone else.

it didn’t take long for the group to catch on.

“okay, spill,” daniela said, pointing a hairbrush at megan like a sword. “you’ve been zoning out for the past twenty minutes. you’ve laughed at literally nothing twice.”

“and you haven’t said a single word about your mystery roommate,” manon added, stretching like a cat. “you’re never this quiet when it comes to her.”

megan blinked. “she’s not my roommate, i still room with lara.”

“whatever. you haven’t slept in your bed in weeks,” lara muttered.

“you okay?” sophia called from the kitchen.

megan opened her mouth to say yes. then stopped. then groaned loudly and collapsed backwards onto the floor like she was dying.

“okay. okay, fine. i’ve been freaking out.”

“duh,” yoonchae said, not looking up from her phone.

“about y/n?” sophia guessed gently.

megan covered her face. “yes. ugh. yes. oh my god.”

“what happened?” lara asked, suddenly alert.

daniela gasped. “is this about the kiss??”

“shh!!” megan hissed, but it was too late.

every head in the room snapped toward her.

yoonchae looked up. “you kissed her?!”

“on the cheek!” megan said quickly, sitting up like that made it less scandalous. “it was just—like—a thank-you hug. and then it just... happened.”

“you kissed her on the cheek and dipped?” manon asked. “you drive-by kissed her??”

“it was instinct!!” megan cried.

daniela raised her hand like she was in school. “i was there. i saw it happen. full contact. zero hesitation. i felt like i was intruding.”

“oh my god,” lara muttered, rubbing her eyes. “and now you’re spiraling because...?”

“because she didn’t say anything!” megan groaned. “she just stood there. frozen. like a statue. and now it’s been, like, a week. and we’ve talked a little but not about that. and i don’t know if i overstepped or freaked her out or ruined everything—”

“megan,” sophia said, coming into the living room with a bowl of fruit. “sweetheart. breathe.”

megan took the tiniest breath possible and went straight back to panicking. “i like her, okay? like... like her. she’s funny in that really dry way. and when she’s kind, she’s so casually kind it makes me wanna explode. she held the door open for me once and i almost tripped. and i know she acts like she’s annoyed all the time, but i see her, y’know? like really see her. she’s not mean. she’s just... shy. and kind of grumpy. but soft. and nice. and i kissed her on the cheek and now i feel like maybe she thinks i crossed a line and—”

her phone buzzed. she cut herself off mid-rant and looked down.

y/n 😍😘🥰😛❤️🫶 y/n hey. wanna come over for a movie night?

megan stared at it. her thumb hovered over the keyboard, typing: “i’d love to but i’m actually with the girls rn”

then she paused.

yoonchae leaned in from over her shoulder like the cryptid she was. “what’s that?”

megan jumped. “nothing—!”

yoonchae snatched the phone, eyes scanning the message. “are you seriously about to say no to this? oh my god, go. go hang out with your girlfriend.”

“she’s not my girlfriend!!” megan squeaked, reaching for her phone.

“yet,” lara said smugly.

sophia smiled knowingly. “you do want to see her, right?”

megan nodded slowly. “...yeah.”

“then go,” daniela said, already getting up. “we’ll survive a night without you.”

“barely,” manon added dramatically.

before megan could change her mind, daniela and yoonchae were literally herding her toward the front door.

“go. now.”

“be with your girlfriend!”

“again she’s not my girlfriend!!”

“whatever you say!”

the door slammed behind her with finality. a second later, it creaked open again and sophia peeked out, soft smile on her face.

“be safe,” she said.

megan blinked at her, heart racing. then she looked down at her phone, took a deep breath, and quickly typed away on her keyboard.

y/n 😍😘🥰😛❤️🫶 megan omw now :)

you were in the middle of shaking the pot on the stove when the knock came. butter sizzled against metal, cinnamon sugar catching in the warm air like a whisper. haerin had left earlier that evening, muttering something about "studying" at danielle’s place with a face that said otherwise. you didn’t question it. you just waved her off and went back to stressing over whether titanic was a bad movie choice.

the knock came again, followed by a familiar voice. “helloooo? it smells like movie night in here.”

you rolled your eyes, but your chest eased. “door’s open.”

megan stepped inside like she belonged there, like she always did lately. her eyes lit up at the scent. “popcorn? wow, what a warm welcome.”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you said, scooping popcorn into two bowls. “i was gonna make this anyway.”

“sure you were,” she teased, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “what’s the occasion? did you want to see me that badly?”

you handed her the bowl without looking at her. “what if i say yes?”

she blinked, stunned for a second, then laughed a little too loud. “uh—well—wow. bold.”

you shrugged. “you asked.”

megan plopped down on the couch with a grin, still trying to play it cool. “where’s haerin, by the way? figured she’d be glued to the screen, mocking whatever we choose.”

“probably at her girlfriend’s,” you said offhandedly, grabbing your bowl of cinnamon popcorn and flopping beside her.

“girlfriend?? since when??” her jaw dropped.

you looked at her from the corner of your eye, half amused. “are you here to watch movies with me or catch up on haerin’s love life?”

she laughed again, quieter this time. “fine, fine. just curious.”

the two of you settled on a random movie—titanic, of all things. you landed on it after scrolling endlessly and letting megan say “stop” at the perfect moment. she claimed it was fate. you claimed she just had bad taste.

you argued over every scene. she called jack dumb. you defended him. she sniffled when rose said she’d never let go. you pretended not to notice.

you sat close, closer than usual. the popcorn bowls balanced on your laps. you refused to let her share yours—not that you were mean, but because hers was made without cinnamon, and yours was not. and megan, well…

“you’re allergic, remember?” you said when she reached over.

“oh right,” she mumbled, sheepish.

somewhere between the iceberg and the heart of the ocean, megan shifted beside you. you didn’t notice at first. you were still chewing on the last of the cinnamon popcorn, half watching the screen, half listening to her breathing next to you.

the movie kept playing, but neither of you were really watching anymore. not really.

titanic had faded into background noise—the swell of music, the distant crackle of a sinking ship, the quiet sniffles megan tried to hide every now and then. her body was turned slightly toward you now, knees tucked up onto the couch, shoulder brushing yours whenever she shifted. her bowl of normal popcorn was long forgotten on the coffee table. yours sat now empty in your lap, cinnamon-sweet and warm between your fingers. there was a strange silence between the two of you. not awkward, not really. just heavy. charged.

you didn’t know what to say. didn’t know why you were suddenly too aware of how close she was, how the lights from the movie flickered in her eyes like firelight. she looked soft. softer than usual. and quiet.

the room had gone still. titanic played on, something tragic unfolding on screen, but the only thing you could focus on was the girl beside you.

megan was quiet, her eyes flicking toward you every so often, like she was trying to gather the courage to say something. she hugged a throw pillow to her chest, but her knee kept bumping yours like her body couldn’t help reaching for you even if her words hadn’t caught up yet.

then, finally, she spoke.

"hey," she said, barely louder than a whisper. "can i tell you something?"

you gave her a slow look, guarded. "you’re gonna tell me either way.”

she smiled, a small one. kind of nervous. “true.”

you waited.

and then she said it. “i like you.”

your brain flatlined.

“what?” you blinked, like maybe you heard her wrong, like maybe you glitched and that wasn’t real.

megan wasn’t laughing. she wasn’t teasing or being dramatic. she just looked at you, wide-eyed and a little breathless, like the words had taken more out of her than she expected.

“i like you,” she said again. “like... more than just friends.”

your mouth went dry. you stared at her. the air shifted, everything inside you going still and bright and loud. megan’s eyes dropped to your mouth for a split second before darting back to your eyes.

“can i kiss you?” she asked, soft. “like... actually kiss you?”

your chest thudded once, hard.

your throat caught, but you still managed to nod—slow, unsure, but real. and that was all she needed.

she leaned in and kissed you.

it was gentle, a little hesitant, her fingers brushing your knee like she was afraid you’d vanish if she moved too fast. her lips were warm and soft and everything in you went quiet, stunned stupid in the best and worst way. and then she pulled back.

your eyes stayed closed for half a second longer than they should’ve. when you opened them, megan was already watching you, waiting. you blinked. hard.

“…dude.”

she looked nervous again. “what? too fast?”

“no, it’s just…” you stared at your popcorn bowl, then at her mouth. “you’re allergic to cinnamon.”

megan tilted her head, puzzled. “…okay?”

“i was eating cinnamon popcorn.”

“ohhh,” she said, dragging the sound out like a revelation. then she smiled, mischievous and smug. “no wonder your lips tasted like cinnamon.”

you flushed. actually flushed. your ears felt like they were on fire. “don’t say stuff like that.”

she laughed, clearly proud of herself, and her eyes dipped to your mouth again. it was so obvious she was about to lean in for another kiss—you could feel it in the air, the way she was looking at you like you were the most interesting thing in the universe.

you held a hand up between you, flustered and very much panicking. “no—hey—you should not be kissing me right now. i had cinnamon.”

megan just grinned. leaned a little closer. “whatever, party pooper.”

and then she kissed you anyway.

#bombikki 彡☆#katseye #katseye megan #katseye x reader #megan skiendiel x reader #megan skiendiel

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bueckersleftbraid · 1 month ago

Text

”— Not For Real

WC: just abt 4.0k (trust it’s good even tho it’s short)

paring: pazzi ofc 🤗

warnings: ummm fluff, fake dating, rom com ass moments, paige lowkey being stupid

authors notes —> hi!! here is this. I sort of love it so I hope you do too! I wrote this quick so my apologies for how short it is but it’s very cutesy

THE PITCH

The coffee shop was nearly empty except for a few students buried in their laptops and an older couple sharing a newspaper by the window. Paige slid into the booth, her cheeks still pink from the cold outside, a takeout cup in one hand and skepticism written all over her face.

Azzi was already there, lounging like she owned the place, one leg crossed over the other and an unread book open in front of her like a decoy. Her sunglasses were perched unnecessarily on top of her head, her dark curls pulled back in a loose bun. She didn’t look frantic or upset — not the way her text had sounded— “Emergency. Meet me at Haven. Bring caffeine.”

“Alright,” Paige said, plunking her drink down. “I came. I caffeinated. What’s the ‘emergency’?”

Azzi gave her a look, one brow quirked, the corners of her mouth twitching like she was holding back a grin. Paige didn’t trust that expression. Azzi was rarely panicked. Calculated? Yes. Hyper-competitive? Definitely. But desperate?

Something was up.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Paige blinked. “You—what?”

Azzi didn’t flinch. “Just for a few weeks.”

Paige sat back, stunned. “This is a joke.”

“I’m completely serious.”

There was a silence between them, the kind that stretched and pulled like taffy. Paige stared, trying to figure out if Azzi had finally lost it.

Azzi’s tone was matter-of-fact. “My sister’s wedding is in three weeks. My parents are hosting half the extended family. And last year—because I was being cornered by four aunties asking why I was single—I might’ve said I was dating someone. Someone serious.”

“Oh my God.”

“I didn’t say it was you,” Azzi added quickly. “But now they want to meet her. And I panicked. And I may have shown them a photo from our joint charity game last summer. You looked good.”

“You—what?”

“I didn’t think they’d remember! But now they’re asking if you’re coming. And since I hate lying—”

“You’re literally lying right now,” Paige interrupted.

“—I figured it’s less lying if it’s you,” Azzi said, flashing a smile that could only be described as weaponized charm.

Paige stared at her like she’d grown another head.

She and Azzi had never been friends, not exactly. Their relationship existed in a gray area between reluctant allies and rivals. They knew each other’s weak spots. They pushed each other during games, sparred during interviews, and occasionally made nice at league events. There had always been tension there — a kind that hovered just on the edge of something else.

But this?

“Why me?” Paige asked finally.

Azzi didn’t answer immediately. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. Her expression turned serious — sincere in a way that Paige rarely saw from her.

“Because you can handle it,” she said. “My family can be… intense. They’ll ask questions. They’ll pry. I need someone who’s smart, quick, and can improvise. You’re the only person I trust not to crack.”

Paige felt a strange flicker of pride at that, which she quickly smothered. She hated how Azzi’s approval always stirred something in her.

“I don’t know,” Paige said, eyeing her warily. “What’s in it for me?”

Azzi smiled, like she’d been expecting that.

“I’ll owe you. Big time. I’ll even owe you publicly, if you want. You name the favor. I’ll make it happen.”

Paige took a slow sip of her latte, weighing her options. She could walk away. Tell Azzi she was out of her mind and let her deal with the fallout.

But instead, she said, “I want your warm-up playlist.”

Azzi went still.

“…You’re not serious.”

“I am deadly serious,” Paige replied. “The one you play with the wireless earbuds. The one you turn off the second someone gets too close. You give me that playlist, and I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Azzi looked betrayed. “That’s like—sacred. That’s mine.”

Paige smirked. “Then maybe you should’ve asked someone else to fake date you.”

Azzi muttered something under her breath and stared down at her coffee like it had betrayed her too. Then she sighed, reached into her bag, and pulled out her phone.

She scrolled, tapped, and then held it out. “You’re the worst.”

“I try,” Paige said, gleefully accepting the transfer.

There was a strange beat of silence after that, as if both of them realized this was no longer hypothetical. Azzi sat back, a little too calm again.

“So,” Paige said cautiously, “how exactly does this work?”

Azzi raised a brow. “We ease into it. Coffee shops, casual photos, a couple of public run-ins. We soft-launch the relationship by next weekend. Then the wedding. A few smiling family photos. Some lingering looks. Maybe even a dance. Two weeks after that, we stage a quiet breakup. Friendly. Mutual. Devastatingly mature.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “You’ve thought this through.”

Azzi gave her a crooked grin. “You have no idea.”

THE ACT

Fake dating, Paige quickly realized, required a surprising amount of coordination.

There were rules, schedules, contingencies. Texts needed timestamps. Stories had to match. They spent an entire afternoon building a believable relationship history — from their “first coffee after a preseason scrimmage” to their “accidental slow dance at a teammate’s birthday party.” Paige had never spent so much time with Azzi without the sound of sneakers squeaking on hardwood in the background.

And somehow, being around her without the structure of basketball— just sitting close on a couch, laptops open, occasionally stealing each other’s fries— felt more intimate than anything else they’d ever done.

It was during brunch on the first Saturday of the plan that things started to feel…off.

Not bad off. Just different.

Their table was tucked into the corner of a sunlit café that Paige didn’t usually frequent— the kind of place with overpriced avocado toast and artisanal jam in tiny glass jars. She kept checking the window, half-expecting someone to recognize them.

Azzi, meanwhile, looked utterly unbothered.

She was dressed in a soft brown sweater that brought out the warm undertones in her skin, her hair loose for once, curls brushing her shoulders. She’d insisted on sitting next to Paige instead of across from her — “Couples sit side-by-side. Optics.” — and now, her knee kept brushing Paige’s beneath the table like it was nothing.

It was not nothing.

Paige was hyper-aware of every point of contact: the press of Azzi’s shoulder, the occasional light touch on her wrist when Azzi laughed at something she said. And then there was the moment— the one Paige didn’t know how to explain— when Azzi reached across the table and gently, casually, brushed a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

“Missed a spot,” she said, voice low, like it was just for her.

Paige stared, momentarily frozen. She barely managed a sarcastic “Thanks, Mom,” just to defuse the tension in her own chest.

Azzi only smirked.

Then— in full view of the table across from them— she reached down and laced her fingers through Paige’s.

Paige’s pulse jumped.

“What are you doing?” she hissed under her breath.

Azzi tilted her head. “Handholding. Basic public display. You want this to be convincing, right?”

“This is—” Paige trailed off, unable to find a word that didn’t sound like denial. Her fingers stayed tangled in Azzi’s for a beat longer than necessary before she forced herself to look away.

Convincing. Right. This was just for show.

But it felt like something else.

____

Later that evening, they found themselves scrolling through Instagram together on Azzi’s couch, reviewing what Azzi referred to as “launch content.” It had been Paige’s idea to soft-launch their relationship through stories and casual posts — enough to stir curiosity without a hard announcement. “Let the public fill in the blanks,” she’d said. “It’ll feel more real if people think they caught it happening.”

Azzi had been disturbingly into that idea.

“Okay,” Paige said, reviewing a photo Azzi had taken earlier — the two of them walking away from the café, arms looped together. It was slightly blurry, clearly taken from behind. “This one looks stolen. Paparazzi vibe.”

“Good,” Azzi said. “Tag it or leave it?”

Paige sighed. “Leave it. Keep them guessing.”

Azzi grinned, but her voice was quieter when she added, “You’re good at this.”

Paige didn’t look up. “At lying to the world?”

“At making it believable,” Azzi said. “Too believable, maybe.”

There was a silence between them.

Paige felt it stretch again — like the space between words you want to say but don’t know how to. The room was warm, too warm, and she suddenly became very aware of the fact that they were sitting closer than strictly necessary.

She risked a glance over.

Azzi was already looking at her.

Paige swallowed hard. “You’re kind of good at this, too.”

Azzi arched a brow. “Kind of?”

Paige shook her head, eyes flicking away.“Unfairly good.”

A smirk tugged at Azzi’s lips, but she didn’t press. Instead, she nudged Paige’s knee lightly with her own. “Don’t overthink it, Bueckers. Just follow my lead.”

That sentence echoed in Paige’s head for the rest of the night.

____

The first real test came the following weekend— a casual dinner with some of Azzi’s extended family visiting early for the wedding.

Paige had told herself she was prepared. She’d practiced their story, remembered names, even rehearsed a few go-to anecdotes. But nothing prepared her for the way Azzi introduced her:

“This is Paige,” Azzi had said, voice softening at the edges. “She’s the one I’ve been telling you about.”

It shouldn’t have hit Paige in the chest the way it did. But the pride in Azzi’s voice, the way she slipped an arm around her waist like it was second nature, it all felt too natural.

Too easy.

“You’re even prettier in person,” Azzi’s aunt said with a warm smile, making Paige blush hard enough to want to hide under the table.

“She is, isn’t she?” Azzi replied, grinning, and Paige gave her a warning glance that Azzi absolutely ignored.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of polite conversation, wine, and shared glances that lingered a little too long. At one point, someone brought up future plans — careers, cities, and timelines — and Paige heard herself say something about “we’re figuring things out,” and Azzi didn’t correct her.

She just nodded. Like it was true.

Like it could be.

That night, after the guests had gone and they were back on the couch, Paige kicked off her heels and flopped backward with a groan. “I deserve an Oscar.”

Azzi collapsed next to her, eyes half-lidded from wine and exhaustion. “They love you already.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“You were perfect,” Azzi said quietly, not teasing for once. “Natural.”

Paige turned her head to look at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “Sometimes I forget we’re faking it.”

Paige’s breath caught.

For a moment, the room felt too still. The words hung between them like something fragile — something dangerous.

“Don’t,” Paige said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t what?” Azzi asked.

“Don’t say stuff like that unless you mean it.”

Azzi looked at her. Really looked. Then — just as softly — said, “Maybe I do.”

Paige didn’t answer.

She didn’t move.

She just let the words sit there, tucked between them on the couch, daring her to pick a side.

THE SHIFT

Paige had faced playoff pressure before. She’d stood at the free throw line with a championship on the line, heard arenas scream her name, stared down defenders with everything at stake.

And still, nothing made her feel quite as unsteady as walking into Azzi’s childhood home.

The place was beautiful — all warm wood and framed memories, the scent of something sweet in the air — but it wasn’t the house itself that threw her.

It was the fact that everyone knew who she was.

“Oh my god, the girlfriend!”

“You’re even cuter than the photos!”

“I heard she plays just as well as Azzi — is that true?”

“Do you want to see baby pictures?!”

Azzi watched it all unfold with thinly veiled amusement, her arm a steady presence at Paige’s back. She was too calm. Too smooth. Like she’d always known Paige would say yes. Like she’d planned for this exact moment.

Paige leaned toward her as soon as they had a sliver of privacy in the hallway. “Your family’s intense.”

“I warned you,” Azzi said with a smirk, then added, “You’re handling it like a pro.”

“I’m dying inside.”

Azzi bumped her shoulder. “You look great while doing it.”

The rehearsal dinner was the first real blow.

Paige had worn a soft cream dress that Azzi couldn’t seem to stop staring at — not that she ever said anything outright, just a glance too long when Paige wasn’t looking, or a compliment murmured so low it felt like a secret.

They sat together at the head table, posing for casual couple photos, telling rehearsed stories about “how we met” and “our first date,” laughing too easily, leaning in like magnets.

But it was during the toasts— when the groom’s brother started talking about soulmates— that Paige glanced over and caught Azzi watching her.

Not with amusement. Not with performance.

But with something soft. Bare. Real.

It was the kind of look no one gives unless they mean it.

Paige looked away, heart thudding in her chest, guilt bubbling like carbonation in her ribs. This was fake. This was supposed to stay fake.

But suddenly, she didn’t know if Azzi had ever drawn the line. And worse — she didn’t know if she had either.

____

That night, in the guest room down the hall, Paige lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her mind racing.

She thought of how Azzi had casually brushed her hair over her shoulder earlier. Of the way she’d poured her wine without asking. Of how she’d reached for Paige’s hand in the dark when no one was watching.

This was the most dangerous part of the lie: the moments that didn’t serve the story. The things that weren’t for anyone else.

And then came the knock.

Soft. Hesitant.

She sat up. “Yeah?”

Azzi peeked through the door. She wasn’t in her dress anymore— just a pair of shorts and an old tee, her curls pulled back loosely, her expression unreadable. “You decent?”

“Depends on your definition,” Paige said, forcing a weak smile.

Azzi stepped in and leaned against the doorframe. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Paige watched her carefully. “Me either.”

There was a long pause.

Azzi broke it, quietly. “Can I tell you something?”

Paige nodded.

“I didn’t think this would get to me.” Azzi looked down, fiddling with a ring on her finger. “It was supposed to be simple. Clean. Controlled.”

“But it’s not.”

“No,” Azzi said. “It’s not.”

Paige felt her heart tug, just a little. “You’re not the only one.”

Azzi looked up at that— eyes locking onto hers, something raw flickering behind them. “When I look at you, Paige…” She stopped. Swallowed. “I forget we’re faking it.”

Paige didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

She just sat there, frozen, every nerve in her body firing at once.

Azzi crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough that Paige could see the tension in her shoulders. “You can tell me to stop. You can tell me it’s just a role. But I need you to know I’m not pretending anymore.”

Silence.

A long one.

Then, quietly— like a truth Paige had been holding in for days— she said, “I don’t want to pretend either.”

Azzi’s eyes searched hers. “You mean that?”

Paige nodded, voice shaking. “Yeah. I do.”

____

The next day was chaos. Wedding prep. Final fittings. Tears and champagne and frantic flower girls. But somehow, through it all, Paige and Azzi found pockets of stillness.

A touch on the back as they passed each other.

A whispered joke during a photo session.

A look— held too long— when no one else was looking.

By the time the dance floor opened and Azzi reached for her hand, Paige didn’t hesitate.

They danced slow. Intimate. Their arms wrapped around each other like second nature.

“Everyone’s watching,” Paige murmured, her cheek brushing Azzi’s.

Azzi’s hand tightened at her waist. “Let them.”

“I feel like we’re supposed to kiss or something.”

Azzi paused. “Do you want to?”

Paige pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Not because we’re supposed to. Only if it’s real.”

Azzi looked at her like she’d already made that choice.

And then, quietly, deliberately— she kissed her.

Soft at first. Like a question. Then with more certainty, like she already knew the answer.

When they pulled apart, Paige didn’t look away.

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” she whispered.

Azzi smiled. “Good.”

____

The kiss didn’t shatter anything.

It settled something. Quiet and unforced, it slipped between them like a puzzle piece finally falling into place. Not a performance, not a statement— just Paige and Azzi, wrapped in music and low light, eyes closed to the world and open only to each other.

And then, slowly, the moment passed.

They pulled apart, breath brushing between them, eyes locked. Paige blinked first.

Someone behind them cheered— not for them, for the newlyweds— and the real world came rushing back.

But nothing about them felt fake anymore.

They didn’t talk about the kiss right away.

Paige needed space to think. She slipped away from the reception after midnight, half-drunk on champagne and adrenaline, and found herself sitting on the venue’s back steps, heels dangling from her hand.

She was running her thumb over the lip of a glass when Azzi found her.

“You always disappear after the good parts,” Azzi said, voice soft as she stepped into the night.

Paige didn’t look over. “Wasn’t sure if it was a good part.”

Azzi sat beside her. Close, but not touching. “It was for me.”

That quiet admission settled in Paige’s chest like warmth in cold hands.

She exhaled. “I don’t know where the line is anymore.”

Azzi didn’t speak for a moment. Then, “I think it’s gone.”

Paige finally turned to look at her.

Azzi’s hair was wind-tousled, cheeks flushed from dancing. Her eyes, though, were steady. “This stopped being fake a while ago. We just didn’t want to be the first to say it.”

Paige bit her lip. “And now?”

“Now I want to know what it looks like when it’s not a performance.”

There was no crowd to play to here. No family. No cameras. Just moonlight, soft music from inside, and two people trying to find their footing.

“I’m scared it’s not different enough,” Paige admitted. “That it’ll feel the same, and somehow that’ll make it less real.”

Azzi reached for her hand. “Then we make it different.”

“How?”

“Let’s start with this.” Azzi’s voice was calm but certain. “Tomorrow— no stories. No setups. We go on a real date. Just you and me.”

“No pretending?”

“No pretending.”

Paige nodded slowly, almost like a dare to herself. “Okay.”

Azzi smiled. “Okay.”

____

They danced again before the night ended.

Not for show, not for pictures. Just the two of them, alone near the edge of the floor, slow-swaying to a song no one else was paying attention to. Azzi’s arms were loose around her waist, and Paige let her forehead rest against Azzi’s collarbone.

No eyes on them.

No script.

No lie.

Just a beginning — unspoken, but undeniably real.

THE RAIN

The wedding glow didn’t last.

Maybe it was the travel. Or the shift back to real life. Or the fact that what had started as a joke— a fake relationship to get through a weekend— had suddenly become something far too delicate to joke about.

Whatever it was, by the time they were back home, something between them had changed.

Paige pulled away first.

Not in a dramatic, obvious way. It was subtle— fewer texts, fewer “just because” calls, excuses about being tired, busy, overwhelmed. She showed up late to dinner one night and didn’t lean in when Azzi brushed her hand.

Azzi noticed every beat of it. Every flinch. Every pause.

But she didn’t push.

Not yet.

____

“You good?” Azzi asked one night, when they were sitting side by side on Paige’s couch, a game on the TV, untouched.

Paige didn’t look over. “I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

Paige let out a short breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“With me?”

“With any of this.”

Azzi paused. “You want out?”

“No. Yes.” Paige rubbed her face, eyes burning. “I don’t know.”

Azzi didn’t say anything.

Because what could she say, when Paige was already slipping through her fingers?

____

The next few days were worse.

Paige stopped answering. Not just texts — calls, too. She skipped their usual Sunday shootaround. She didn’t invite Azzi to the fundraiser dinner they’d planned to go to together. She didn’t say anything was wrong.

She just stopped showing up.

____

It was raining when Azzi finally found her.

Not a soft drizzle— a downpour, the kind that soaked through clothes in seconds, that made the whole world feel like it was breaking open.

Azzi didn’t care.

She stood outside Paige’s building, coat already heavy with rain, hair clinging to her face, and poundedon the buzzer until someone let her in.

She didn’t call first.

She didn’t text.

She just knocked on Paige’s door, hard, until it opened.

Paige stared at her, stunned. She was barefoot in a hoodie, face pale and tired, and for a moment, she didn’t say anything.

Azzi didn’t wait.

“You don’t get to ghost me,” she said, soaked and furious. “Not after all of that.”

Paige swallowed. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“No. You were. And I let you. Because I thought maybe you needed space, but now I’m standing here in a storm, and I’m not leaving until you say whatever it is you’re afraid to say.”

Paige’s voice cracked. “This isn’t going to work.”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

“This thing. Us.” Paige stepped back like she couldn’t bear her own words. “It was supposed to be fake. We were never meant to be real. It’s too much. It’s too fast. And I’m going to mess it up.”

Azzi took a step inside. “You’re not messing it up. You’re running from it.”

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“Yes, you do. You’re just scared.”

Paige’s eyes welled up, but she held her ground. “I’ve never had anything like this before, Azzi. Not with anyone. I don’t know what it looks like to let it be real.”

Azzi stood there, soaked to the skin, heart wide open. “You want to know what it looks like?”

Paige didn’t answer.

Azzi closed the space between them. “It looks like me, right now, standing here completely drenched, because I love you so much I couldn’t not come. It looks like two people terrified out of their minds choosing each other anyway.”

Paige froze.

Azzi’s voice dropped. “I love you.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then Paige stepped forward— one shaky, breathless step— and kissed her.

Hard. Desperate. Like a dam breaking.

And in the middle of it, she whispered, “I love you too.”

____

Later, they lay tangled on the couch, wrapped in towels and each other, the storm still whispering against the windows.

Neither of them spoke for a while. There was nothing to explain.

Because for the first time, nothing was pretend.

And neither of them was running.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #uconnwbb #pazzi fics #wlw fiction #uconn huskies #pazzi crumbs

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en8y · 5 months ago

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[IMAGE ID: two eight-striped horizontal flags. most of the stripes are the same size, save for the two middle ones, which are about half the size of the others. the first flag's colors, from top to bottom, are as follows: dark red, dull red, light red, pink-grey, dark grey, warm pink, bright red, and medium red. the second flag's colors, from top to bottom, are as follows: warm pink, light pink, cream, pink-grey, dark grey, white, pastel pink, and warm pink. END ID.]

hyperflushedrom: a term for someone whose flushed attraction is stronger/more frequent than their other quadrant attractions. intended to be similar to hypersexual/hyperromantic/etc, but it doesn't have to be mental illness-related.

hyperpalerom: a term for someone whose pale attraction is stronger/more frequent than their other quadrant attractions. intended to be similar to hypersexual/hyperromantic/etc, but it doesn't have to be mental illness-related.

@radiomogai @liom-archive @obscurian @orientation-archive

#hyperflushedrom #hyperpalerom #hyper-rom #flushed romance #pale romance #homestuck quadrants #mogai coining #mogai identity #identity coining #tech.png

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chansdoll · 5 months ago

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방찬 ─── movie night

[ ⟡ ] ── NSFW, MDNI! ✁ idolbf!chan x fem!reader , oral (m. rec) , facefucking this was a request ♡ i hope you like it ! ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

honestly, you should have seen this coming. it was rare for you and chan to make it through an entire movie without getting sidetracked. the few times you had attempted to sit down and watch something together, distractions always seemed to win.

tonight was no different. chan had managed to get off work early for once, leaving him with some precious free time, and, unsurprisingly, he chose to spend it with you.

the evening began with the two of you cooking dinner together, laughter and conversation filling the kitchen as you caught up on everything that had been happening in your lives. by the time the meal was over, both of you were stuffed and content. it seemed only natural to end the night with a cozy rom-com, the perfect backdrop to your relaxed evening.

as the movie played on, chan's hands began to wander, tracing patterns over your body. you were so engrossed in the film that it took you a while to notice, but once you did, you couldn't help but respond. every shift of his body, every movement of your own seemed to bring you closer together. his touch was gentle yet possessive, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

you curled up against him, seeking his warmth and comfort, and he eagerly wrapped his arms around you. the heat between your bodies only intensified his desire. he was hyper-aware of every little thing - the curve of your breasts pressed against his side, the weight of your leg draped over his.

but it wasn't just physical attraction driving him. as busy as he had been lately, with no time to relax or unwind, being near you only amplified his need for release. it was as if all his stress and frustration had built up inside him and now they could only find release through you. he couldn't resist touching you, needing to feel the connection between your bodies.

after some time, you could feel his intense gaze on you as you cuddled up to him, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. he finally spoke up, his voice soft and gentle as he addressed you with a endearing term. "baby?"

you hummed in response, your eyes still glued to the screen. but then, he lifted a hand to gently guide your gaze towards his own, his eyes sparkling with desire and a hint of something else. slowly, he leaned in closer, his lips slightly pouting as he whispered in your ear. "i want you," he began, his voice filled with longing. your expression softened at his words and you couldn't help but smile.

"chan, the movie," you reminded him, gesturing to the tv in front of you.

he whined playfully and leaned his head back against the couch. "i know, i know...but it's just been so long and i need you. i miss your mouth on me," he said boldly, gazing up at you with anticipation and need. the tension between you both was palpable as the warm glow of the screen flickered over your faces.

as his words reached your ears, a rush of heat flooded your body. the sight of your boyfriend in such a needy state ignited a deep desire within you. before you could utter a single word, he guided your hand under the blanket with slow and deliberate movements. as soon as your fingers brushed against it, you could feel his prominent bulge, warm and stiff beneath the fabric of his sweatpants.

a wave of boldness washed over you as you thought, 'fuck the movie,' and began to rub the bulge for him. he let out a low whimper against your lips as you leaned in for soft, tender kisses. in an instant, he was returning the kisses with fervor, his tongue slipping into your mouth without hesitation. his hands roamed all over your body, mapping out and memorizing every inch as if he couldn't get enough.

with a gasp, you broke the passionate kiss to catch your breath. your lips were swollen and coated in a mixture of your saliva and his, a telltale sign of the intense make-out session you just had. “want me to help you, channie?” he nodded eagerly, practically ripping the blanket off his lower half in his eagerness. you couldn't help but stifle a giggle at how hurriedly he was moving.

giving him one last lingering kiss, you slid off the couch and knelt between his legs. in one swift movement, his sweats were now at his ankles and his hard, throbbing cock was exposed to your hungry gaze. without hesitation, you gave it tender licks and kisses, savoring the salty and intoxicating taste that has always driven you wild. his moans spurred you on as you wrapped your pretty lips around his length, feeling it twitch with pleasure beneath your touch.

his thighs trembled and shook as you bobbed your head, the wet sounds of your mouth working its magic driving him wild. "s-so good, baby...f-fuck," he moaned deeply, barely able to form coherent words as he was overwhelmed by pleasure. you responded with more moans of your own, the vibrations from your throat only adding to his pleasure.

his hand gently rested on your head, fingers running through your hair as you continued to suck him off. as much as he loved how skilled you were at pleasuring him, he couldn't resist the overwhelming desire to fill your throat completely. with one hand gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail, he silently conveyed his desire for you to deepthroat him.

looking up at him with a mix of arousal and determination, you relaxed your throat and tried your best to take all of him in. he gritted his teeth and let out a low hiss as you gagged around his length, causing his hips to buck involuntarily. gripping your hair tightly, he pushed your head down further, using your face for his own pleasure.

your eyes watered and you were a drooling mess, but none of that mattered to him. in fact, it only made you look even hotter in his eyes, driving him closer to the edge. with a growl, he couldn't hold back any longer and came with a shudder, filling your throat with his release. he threw his head back, holding your head down still as he rode his high. after a few beats of breathy moans and pants, he let go of your hair, letting you pull off his softening length. it twitched as you did, a mix of your saliva and his cum coating it.

you licked your lips, savoring the remnants of his taste that clung to them. your breath was ragged, still trying to catch up from the intense face fucking he had just given you. he looked down at you with a satisfied smile, running his fingers through your hair and gently caressing your cheek. "come up here," he said, helping you to your feet and giving you a hand up.

you straddled him eagerly, not minding the mess in his lap as you settled into position. his lips immediately crashed onto yours, showering your face with playful kisses. a low growl rumbled in his throat, making your heart flutter with contentment.

as his hands gripped your hips and thighs possessively, you could tell that the night was far from over. but for now, you were content to bask in the sweet aftercare and let him take control once again.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek

©chansdoll do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

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xoxo-sincerely-me · 3 months ago

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𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒚,

𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄!𝑽𝒊.

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆…

Meeting mechanic!Vi when she changes your flat tire for you in a grocery store parking lot at midnight, she rolls up beside you on her bike decked out in leather.

꩜mechanic!Vi who teases you for not learning / knowing how to do this

꩜mechanic!Vi she knows she looks good and is most definitely flexing just for you

꩜mechanic!Vi flirts shamelessly with you hyper-aware that you are watching her

꩜mechanic!Vi who takes off her leather jacket and hands it to you despite the chill in the night air

꩜mechanic!Vi who is wearing a white vest top underneath that hugs her perfectly leaving nothing to the imagination, her pierced nipples visible through the thin fabric

꩜mechanic!Vi who wipes the dirt on her hands of on her shirt as she works

꩜mechanic!Vi who offers to teach you about cars at a more appropriate time

꩜mechanic!Vi who refuses to be payed, but asks you out instead, writing her number in sharpie on your hand like a cheesy rom-com

꩜mechanic!Vi who gets close enough to tell that smells like an intoxicating mixture sweat, whiskey and cherries

꩜mechanic!Vi who winks as she leaves, forgetting her jacket with you

꩜mechanic!Vi who’s thighs stretch her pants obscenely as she straddles her bike and dons her helmet

꩜mechanic!Vi who mimes at you to call her as she speeds off into the night

꩜mechanic!Vi who thinks about you all the way home

꩜mechanic!Vi is reminded the next morning that she left her jacket with you

꩜mechanic!Vi who waits all day for a text or call, heart swooping every time she gets a notification

꩜mechanic!Vi who gets teased all day by Jayce because of how distracted she is

I think this is part one of (likely) many

I am a Vi smells like cherries truther

𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚, 𝒎𝒆

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skiesuconn · 3 months ago

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Lost in Argentina | Chapter 2

From Tangled Limbs to Tangled Plans Pairing: Paige Buecker | Azzi Fudd WC: 20K

Synopsis: The journey’s just beginning, and Paige? Well, she’s always the first one up, ready to kickstart the day with a good deed. The team’s energy is buzzing as the morning sun warms the air, teasing Azzi and Paige relentlessly about last night’s little... situation.

The day’s rolling on, and it’s like a rom-com script come to life. Endless laughter, spontaneous kisses, and all the moments that make you go, yeah, this is the stuff dreams are made of. It’s the kind of love you only find when you’re somewhere like Argentina—where everything feels a little more alive, a little more possible.

By the end of it all? It's the perfect note to close the day. It’s safe to say, this whole week? Pure, uninterrupted fun. With some twists. Frankie's note: I had so much fun writing this, especially the beach scenes with the team and all their ridiculous jokes—I was literally laughing my ass off while thinking about it. I really enjoyed putting this together, and thanks so much for all the support! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. Let me know what you think, mwah

Paige woke to the soft glow of morning slipping through the too-thin curtains, the air still cool, the world outside just starting to stir. For a moment, she stayed in that hazy space between sleep and waking, eyes half-lidded, brain sluggish. Then she felt it—warmth.

Azzi.

Paige blinked fully awake, heart giving a small, stupid flutter as she registered the way they were tangled together. Limbs overlapping, Azzi’s arm draped across Paige’s waist, her face tucked into the curve of Paige’s shoulder, her breathing slow and steady. It was the kind of mess that only happened after nights spent too close, when even an inch of space between them felt like too much.

Not that Paige was complaining.

But also—her arm was asleep. Completely numb. And, yeah, she really had to pee.

Carefully, like she was defusing a bomb, Paige started extracting herself. She moved in slow increments, biting her lip, hyper-aware of every tiny shift in Azzi’s breathing. When she finally managed to slip free, she hesitated, glancing back down at Azzi, who was still fast asleep, soft curls spilling over the pillow.

Paige reached for the sheets, tucking them around her with the kind of gentle care she’d never admit to out loud. Just enough to keep her warm, but not too tight. Like a protective little cocoon.

Azzi sighed in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent. Paige froze, but she didn’t wake. Angel behavior.

She stood there for a second, just looking.

Azzi’s face was completely relaxed, all the tension she carried during the day nowhere to be found. She looked peaceful. Beautiful. Paige felt something in her chest tighten, a kind of quiet, overwhelming fondness settling into her bones.

God. She was so screwed.

With a quiet sigh, Paige slipped out of the room, padding barefoot through the hallway and out into the early morning air.

The streets of Argentina were calm, bathed in that soft golden light that made everything look a little dreamlike. A gentle breeze carried the faint strumming of a guitar from somewhere in the distance. The city was waking up, stretching, yawning.

Paige knew exactly where she was going.

She made her way down the street, weaving through a few early risers, until she spotted the little flower stand she’d seen the other day. It was tucked beneath a striped awning, small but overflowing with color. Bouquets of roses, sunflowers, daisies—each one wrapped in crisp brown paper, waiting to be chosen.

The woman behind the stand had warm eyes and the kind of energy that immediately put Paige at ease.

She scanned the flowers like she was making the most important decision of her life. Then she saw them—pink and white lilies, delicate and soft, with little sprigs of baby’s breath nestled between the petals. They just felt like Azzi.

Paige pointed at them and, with all the confidence of someone who was absolutely winging it, said, “Para mi novia.”

The woman’s eyes twinkled. She didn’t say anything, just started wrapping the bouquet with practiced grace, her hands careful and precise.

“Es hermoso,” she said warmly as she handed them over.

Paige hesitated, then pulled out a tip and passed it to her. The woman’s face lit up, and before Paige could fully register what was happening, she was being pulled into a brief but incredibly heartfelt hug.

Okay. Unexpected. But kind of… really nice. ━

By the time Paige made it back to bed, it was 8:30, and Azzi was still fully dead to the world. Face smushed against the pillow, one arm flopped out dramatically like she’d fought off some demons in her sleep, a soft little snore escaping her every few seconds.

Paige bit back a smile. No, actually, screw that—she grinned like an idiot.

There was something about Azzi when she was asleep. She looked so unguarded, so effortlessly soft in a way she rarely let herself be when she was awake. Paige swore it was one of her favorite things in the world—right up there with buzzer-beaters, ice cream straight from the carton, and absolutely obliterating Azzi in 2K (which only happened like… twice, but that’s beside the point).

Paige didn’t waste another second. She slipped under the covers, slow and careful, until she was right there—right next to her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Azzi’s body. And like clockwork, Azzi shifted in her sleep, her subconscious apparently recognizing Paige like muscle memory.

Her hand found Paige’s waist like it belonged there. She burrowed in without hesitation, face pressing into Paige’s collarbone, a sleepy little sigh leaving her lips as she melted into the warmth she always, always sought out.

Yeah. Paige was done for.

Her arms moved on their own, wrapping around Azzi’s body, holding her close, heart swelling like some dumb rom-com protagonist. She let her fingers wander, tracing slow, featherlight circles into Azzi’s back before moving up, up, up into her hair—curling and uncurling soft strands between her fingers.

God, she loved Azzi’s hair. She loved the way it felt, the way it framed her face, the way Azzi got all self-conscious about it even though it was easily the most beautiful thing ever.

Paige leaned in, pressing the lightest kiss to the top of Azzi’s head. Then, because she was feeling brave (and also because no one could call her out for it when Azzi was still asleep), she kissed the spot just beneath her ear, where her skin was warm and impossibly soft.

Azzi made a noise. A barely-there, sleep-heavy mumble that sounded a lot like Paige’s name.

Paige froze. Then smiled. Then did it again.

It was addicting, okay? The way Azzi melted into her touch, the way she clung just a little tighter, the way Paige could literally feel the trust between them in every tiny movement.

She tightened her grip, one last squeeze, one last gentle stroke of her fingers through Azzi’s hair. The room was still, quiet in that way mornings always were before the world fully woke up. Paige felt her own eyelids drooping, the comfort of Azzi’s warmth pulling her under like a weighted blanket straight from heaven.

But before she fully gave in, she reached blindly for her phone on the nightstand, squinting against the brightness as she set an alarm for 9:10. Enough time to sleep a little longer. Enough time to wake up slow, to have breakfast together, to just… be.

She let the phone slip from her fingers, exhaling a content sigh as she nuzzled closer. ━

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Paige groaned. Stupid alarm. Stupid responsibility. Stupid morning.

She blindly reached over, smacking at her phone until the beeping finally stopped. The screen glowed in the dim light, the time glaring back at her—9:10 AM—and right beneath it, an unread message.

Ice: “dude get up or i’m gonna eat yo breakfast, the plates too”

Paige snorted, thumbs already moving as she fired back.

Paige: “we’re going down soon, thanks 🙄”

She tossed her phone back onto the nightstand and turned her attention to something infinitely more important—Azzi.

Still dead to the world. Still tucked into her side, her face smushed against Paige’s shoulder in a way that should not be this cute.

Paige let herself look for a second. Just one. Because how could she not? Azzi’s face was soft with sleep, her lips slightly parted, her dimples peeking through even in unconsciousness. It was unfair. No one should look that good half-asleep.

Paige smiled, shifting just enough to press the lightest, softest kiss to Azzi’s nose—just a quick thing, careful not to startle her. Then, because she was technically a responsible adult (debatable), she gave Azzi a tiny nudge.

“Babe,” she murmured, voice still thick with sleep. “C’mon, we gotta get up.”

Azzi groaned dramatically, tightening her grip around Paige’s waist like she could physically stop time. “Nooo, baby,” she whined, voice muffled against Paige’s skin. “Five more minutes.”

Paige sighed. A helpless, head-over-heels, what-am-I-gonna-do-with-you kind of sigh.

Because yeah, sure, they technically had to get up. But also? She could stay like this forever. The way Azzi felt against her, warm and impossibly soft, the way their skin pressed together, the way it was just them—close, connected, vulnerable in a way that made Paige’s heartache in the best possible way.

She tightened her hold just a little, her fingers tracing slow, absentminded shapes against Azzi’s back. “You’re making this really hard,” she muttered.

Azzi, still very much not awake, just hummed, snuggling even closer.

Paige groaned again—because seriously—but at the same time, she was grinning like an idiot

“Azzi, for real, we gotta move, or Ice is gonna inhale our breakfast.”

Paige sat up, already swinging her legs off the bed, but before she could even think about escaping, a hand shot out, yanking her right back down. She barely had a second to react before Azzi’s lips were on hers.

A dirty move. Unfair play.

Paige melted into it for a second—because, duh—but then she pulled back just enough to mumble, “Morning breath, Az. That toothpaste does not do you good.”

Azzi smirked, completely unbothered. “Don’t care. I love you.”

Paige sighed dramatically, pressing a quick kiss to Azzi’s cheek. “I love you more, baby.”

“Then stay.” Azzi’s arms looped around her waist, making zero effort to let her go.

Paige wanted to. God, she wanted to. But also? Food.

“Big head,” she said, trying to pry herself free. “We really have to get down for breakfast.”

Azzi cracked one eye open, her smirk turning downright dangerous. “There’s literally my breakfast in front of me.”

Paige choked. Visibly malfunctioned.

“Azzi,” she groaned, face already burning.

Azzi just grinned. So pleased with herself.

Paige huffed, running a hand down her face before leaning down to kiss Azzi’s forehead. “Baby, I know you’re ovulating, but we really have to get down there.”

Azzi made a small sound—half a nod, half a whiny moan—before finally, finally shifting under the covers.

That’s when Paige clocked it.

“Wait—are you naked under there?”

Azzi just grinned, stretching lazily.

Jesus Christ.

Paige exhaled through her nose, forcing herself to focus. Be strong, Paige. She grabbed Azzi’s bra from the chair and held it out. “C’mon, babe, let’s get you dressed.”

Azzi smirked, eyes way too mischievous. “Put it on me?”

Paige swallowed. Hard. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

She moved slowly, soft, delicate, intentional. Slid the straps up Azzi’s arms, clasped the back with practiced ease. Her fingers lingered for a second, then she pressed a slow, lazy kiss to Azzi’s bare shoulder.

Azzi actually shivered.

Paige smirked. Good to know she wasn’t the only one suffering.

Shaking her head, Paige pulled herself together and threw on a grey USA Basketball T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. Her usual. She slipped on some cream slides, ran a hand through her messy bun, and called it a day. ━

Azzi stepped out of the bathroom, sliding into a beige, seashell-colored cover-up that clung to her curves in a way that made Paige lose her train of thought for a solid second. The material was just thin enough to be barely there, a whisper of fabric that made her skin glow in the soft light of the room. It was perfect for the warm Argentine weather, that sweet in-between stage where it’s hot enough for the beach, but still needing something light to wear. Her untamed curls framed her face effortlessly, and honestly, Paige swore she might actually throw herself off the balcony if she didn’t contain herself.

She bit down hard on her knuckles, desperately trying to stop herself from well, whistling, but there was no stopping the way her heart did a little flip every time Azzi moved. Every. Single. Time.

Azzi turned around, and Paige nearly went dizzy. The way Azzi’s back muscles shifted beneath the fabric, the subtle flex of her shoulders—it did something to Paige that she couldn’t even explain.

Paige smirked, fighting the urge to let out a wolf-whistle. “You look... decent, I guess,” she said casually, her voice as nonchalant as she could manage. But inside? She was doing backflips. Cartwheels (She can't do those, actually)

Azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Decent?”

“Yeah,” Paige said, trying to keep her cool, even though she was about five seconds away from fainting. “I mean, you look... fine. Nothing special.”

Azzi leaned in, brushing a hand against Paige’s jaw. “You sure about that?”

Paige’s eyes drifted down to Azzi’s curves, and she grinned. “No, I’m not. If any man checks you out, I swear, I’m carrying you home myself.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but pressed a soft kiss to Paige’s lips, smirking as she pulled back. “Okay, big shot. Good luck with that.”

Paige grinned, completely wrapped up in the way Azzi moved. “I’m serious, babe. You’re making every guy within a mile radius regret not bringing sunglasses.”

Azzi laughed, tossing her hair back like she was born to be on a beach—and Paige? Well, she was ready to lose it.

Azzi slipped on some white slides, simple but perfect, and Paige could barely hold it together. “Wait, before we go,” Paige said, her voice all playful, “close your eyes.”

Azzi frowned but did it anyway, clearly suspicious. “Paige, please don’t tell me you got us a capybara.”

Paige’s eyes twinkled. “Open.”

Azzi opened her eyes slowly, expecting maybe some weird, Paige-style surprise—a capybara or whatever. But what she saw in front of her completely took her breath away. A bouquet of flowers—pink lilies and white lilies, soft and delicate but bold in their beauty. Azzi’s name practically screamed from the petals, but in the most subtle, perfect way.

Azzi’s breath caught, and she reached out, gently caressing the flowers. “Oh my God.” Her eyes softened as she examined them, running her fingers along the soft petals like she couldn’t quite believe they were real.

Paige stood there, a little nervous, but mostly excited. “So, do you like it?”

Azzi turned to her, a small smile spreading across her face. “Are you serious? Of course I like it. You just… you just know what I like.”

Paige smiled, feeling a little shy. “Well... I might’ve gotten a little lucky.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Lucky? With that advanced vocabulary of yours?”

Paige grinned. “Let’s just say I keep my streak on Duolingo strong.”

Azzi chuckled, giving her a playful shove. “You’re getting it.”

Paige’s face lit up, heart racing at the way Azzi looked at her. “I’m trying, okay? I’m trying real hard.”

Azzi gave her one last look at the bouquet before pulling Paige into a soft kiss. “I love you. And I love this.”

“Glad you do,” Paige murmured against her lips. “You deserve it.”

And for a moment, there was nothing but Azzi, the bouquet, and the connection between them that was starting to feel like something more than just a day at the beach. A lot more.

━ The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and the scent hit them instantly—freshly brewed coffee, warm pastries, and that perfect morning air that promised the start of something good. Paige’s eyes fluttered, taking in the smell, a mix of vanilla and that rich coffee aroma that made her want to dive face-first into a croissant. Azzi beside her inhaled deeply, her lips curving into a soft smile as the warmth of the space wrapped around them.

Paige caught the movement of the long buffet bar in the distance, stacked high with an assortment of fresh fruits—oranges, berries, and sliced melon—along with golden, flaky croissants that practically screamed her name. The buffet was lined with neatly arranged eggs, bacon, sausages, and all sorts of meats, their warm aroma mixing with the pastries in the air. Everything was carefully laid out beneath soft lighting, giving it all a slightly dreamlike quality, like they were stepping into a gourmet dream.

Paige spotted Ice, Nika, and Lili right away, their familiar faces standing out amidst the breakfast crowd, and without missing a beat, she nudged Azzi toward the table where they were sitting. The morning buzz of laughter, clinking silverware, and the hum of quiet conversations filled the air around them, but Paige's focus was squarely on the crew waiting for them. She wasn’t great at multitasking, so she let her instincts guide her as they weaved through the crowd.

Azzi, glancing over at the menu with a mild sense of unease, noticed that some dishes had pictures for easy navigation—thank God for that, considering Paige’s Spanish wasn’t exactly top-notch. Paige, with the confidence of someone who pretended to know what she was doing, pointed to a picture of eggs and chorizo with a proud grin plastered on her face. “I’ll have… this one.”

She looked so proud, but it was clear by the way she paused and squinted at the photo that she was just guessing at what the dish was. Azzi, trying her best not to burst out laughing, shot Paige an amused look but decided to get her own order in. She tapped the picture of a vegetarian dish, clearly trying to dodge any further need for butchering Spanish. "I’ll have this," she said casually, trying to keep her voice steady. "Looks light."

Lili, who had clearly come to the same conclusion, added with a smile, "I’ll have the same. Vegetarian for me." She was always so simple and to the point, making Paige grin.

Paige gave a big thumbs up to Lili, her grin widening. “Good choice. Looks like we’re all on the ‘I don’t know what the hell I’m ordering’ train today.”

Azzi shot her a look, but there was no denying the soft chuckle that escaped her. It was a familiar dynamic, this easy back-and-forth, and Paige wouldn’t have it any other way.

When they reached the table, Paige immediately pulled out Azzi’s chair with a dramatic flourish. “After you,” she said with a grin, making sure to emphasize the queen part. It earned an exaggerated eye roll from Azzi, but the way Azzi’s lips curved into a soft smile made it clear that she didn’t mind the attention.

"Here we go," Nika teased from across the table, her eyes practically twinkling with mischief. "The official ‘Paige, stop simping’ moment of the day."

Paige shot her a playful glare, but it was all in good fun. She quickly dabbed her teammates up, giving them a quick fist bump before sitting down. “You know you love it,” Paige said smoothly, throwing Nika a wink that made the whole table laugh.

"I’ve got a front-row seat to all of this," Nika smirked, leaning back in her seat like she was watching a show. "Who’s gonna say it first?"

"Say what first?" Azzi asked, eyes narrowing as she caught on to the teasing game. She was already onto them, but Paige could tell she was curious.

"Y’all heard about the thin walls, right?" Ice, ever the instigator, leaned forward with that shit-eating grin of hers, clearly itching to stir the pot.

Paige froze mid-reach for her coffee, her hand hovering awkwardly in the air. The words hit her like a brick wall, and her eyes widened in realization. She nearly choked on her sip, coughing and sputtering as she tried to clear her throat. "I do not know what you’re talking about," she managed to force out, sounding a little too defensive.

Azzi, noticing Paige’s sudden fluster, leaned closer, placing her hand under the table. Her finger brushed softly against Paige’s, offering a quiet, unspoken reassurance. The touch was comforting, grounding. Azzi couldn’t help but laugh quietly at Paige’s reaction, the soft sound making Paige’s ears go hot.

Ice leaned back in her chair, taking a smug sip of her own coffee. "Well, you know, the hotel staff was making rounds last night, around midnight or so, checking who was making all that noise on the fourth floor."

The tension was thick, but Paige—with her typically playful deflection—shot Ice a look that could only be described as a “seriously?” kind of glare. The others at the table chuckled, but Paige only sighed dramatically. "Seriously?" She shot a glance at Azzi, who was now trying not to laugh too hard at the situation, clearly playing along with the whole thing. Paige wanted to die a little, but her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to pretend she was completely fine.

"Let’s just say," Ice continued, practically twinkling with mischief, "I’m pretty sure they know exactly what room you’re in."

"Don’t even start," Paige grumbled, but deep down, she was laughing with Azzi too, though she would never admit it.

Paige and Azzi shot each other a look, their faces turning the brightest shade of red as the memory came rushing back to them. They both knew exactly what Ice was referring to—those very same noises that, despite their best efforts, couldn’t be erased from their minds. Paige quickly cleared her throat, her hand reaching for her water as a weak attempt to mask the embarrassment burning in her cheeks. "I’m pretty sure it was just… a loud TV, or something," she stammered, her words a little too quick. "You know, the tele novela here is real dramatic," Paige added.

Nika, always quick to back her up, jumped in with unwavering confidence, "Yeah! It's like, real intense here. The drama’s on another level." She raised her coffee cup with mock seriousness, pretending to be lost in thought as if she was an expert on Latin American soap operas. "So much yelling, so much—uh, passion," Nika continued, her eyes flicking between Paige and Azzi with a mischievous grin.

Lili, who had been quietly eating her granola, barely lifting her eyes from her bowl, added in the most deadpan tone possible, "I told them someone was doing their Duolingo lesson at midnight. Honestly, I think I was right."

Azzi grinned at Lili, her eyes lighting up with amusement. "You were right," she said, nodding enthusiastically. "The ‘Duolingo streak’ doesn’t stop just because it's midnight." She leaned toward Paige with a mischievous glint in her eye, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "I’ve seen Paige get really dedicated to that streak," she added, her voice low but teasing.

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "I do not need you two exposing me like that," she said with a dramatic sigh, nudging Azzi under the table with her foot.

Ice, already having way too much fun at Paige’s expense, leaned back in her chair with a satisfied grin. "Oh no," she chimed in, her tone full of playful teasing, "We all know you’re deep into it, Paige. If anyone’s getting interrupted by that owl at 2 AM, it’s you."

Paige groaned, pretending to be offended. "I swear, that owl’s more of a nightmare than any of you."

"Don’t worry, Paige," Azzi whispered with a smirk, squeezing her hand under the table. "You’re still the best at Duolingo, even if you wake up the entire hotel."

The group laughed, the teasing and jokes flowing naturally. The camaraderie between them was strong, and despite the embarrassment, Paige was thankful for the easy atmosphere and the way Azzi always had her back, even in the most awkward moments.

As they neared the end of their breakfast, the laughter and teasing had subsided a little, but the energy was still there. Ice was scrolling through her phone, flipping between messages, then looked up with a wide grin. "Alright, so the coach said we’ve got some freedom today. We can go explore the city, check out the little forest a few miles from here—just, y'know, don't drown or anything," she said, her voice laced with that signature dry humor.

The table erupted with laughter, everyone knowing Ice wasn’t exactly the most serious person in the world, but they loved her for it.

Paige grinned, "I’ll do my best not to drown. I mean, I’ve been known to fall into puddles…"

Azzi, half-joking, added, "But can we drown in a sea of mimosas?"

Nika, already glancing at the menu for dessert options, jumped in. "Wait, I heard the spa here has these amazing hot steam massages," she said with a glint in her eye. "And they don’t charge for it. Like, free. Zero dollars."

Azzi’s cover-up, barely covering anything, clung to her body, and Paige couldn’t help but notice the way her panties peeked out just slightly. The way the bra strap was just visible, sitting perfectly under the fabric. And her skin—wow. That milk chocolate tone that looked like it was kissed by the sun, glowing even in the hotel light. Paige found herself zoning out, her fingers lightly grazing Azzi’s leg beneath the table, just to feel the softness of her skin.

Azzi let out a soft moan, so low it was almost imperceptible, and Paige’s heart skipped a beat. The table went eerily quiet for a second, everyone’s attention shifting from the menu to the couple. Nika, ever the observant one, coughed loudly. "Oh my God, Paige," she said with a smirk, her eyes widening dramatically, giving Paige a long look, like she was about to bust a gut laughing.

Paige immediately pulled her hand away from Azzi’s thigh, her face flaming with embarrassment. "Shit," she muttered under her breath, trying to regain her composure.

Azzi, barely keeping it together, whispered into Paige’s ear, her breath warm against her skin, "You're such a freak."

Paige chuckled, trying to act all innocent but failing miserably. "I swear, I was just trying to be sweet," she teased in a low voice, though the heat in her face was hard to hide.

Lili, who had been minding her own business and quietly sipping her orange juice, piped up, "Y’all are on another level. We really need to get some boundaries, like a public display of affection limit or something." She raised an eyebrow. "It’s 9 AM."

Paige laughed, shaking her head. "You’re right, Li, you’re right. We’ll tone it down."

Azzi, still holding Paige’s hand under the table, leaned in and murmured, "Just wait until we’re at the beach later."

Paige’s eyebrows shot up at the subtle promise in Azzi’s voice. "Oh, trust me, I’m counting down the minutes."

"Alright, alright," Ice cut in with a grin, clearly enjoying the banter. "Focus, people. We’re getting a beach day later, and no one’s gonna care about PDA when you’re getting sand in places you didn’t think sand could go."

"True," Nika chimed in with a laugh. "The beach has a way of, uh, making everything feel... extra public."

They all broke into laughter, and the tension between Paige and Azzi melted into playful teasing, making the moment feel easy and carefree. Paige couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter what, every single second with Azzi felt like it was filled with a perfect kind of chaos—and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

━ As the group was finishing up their breakfast, the noise around the table started to fade into a cozy, low hum. Paige and Nika were deep in a heated debate about pancakes, with Nika passionately arguing that chocolate chip was so overrated, and Paige, of course, being the most dramatic about defending them. "You can’t just throw some plain pancake on a plate and call it a day. It's not 2008!" Paige exclaimed, laughing. Nika rolled her eyes, “Says the person who thinks extra butter makes it ‘art,’” she shot back with a smirk.

In the middle of this pancake chaos, Caroline, who'd been chilling on the opposite side of the table, stood up and casually strolled over to Azzi, who was half-slouched on Paige's shoulder, looking like the chillest human ever. Azzi noticed her coming and gave a warm, but curious smile. "Hey, what’s up?" she asked, her voice a mix of sweetness and intrigue.

Caroline’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in a little closer, practically whispering like she was about to drop the spiciest gossip. "So, uh... I think I owe you something," she started, letting the words hang in the air before she added with a grin, "Ear plugs."

Azzi blinked, momentarily confused. "Ear plugs?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow like she was missing the punchline.

Caroline’s grin got wider, full of that signature drama she was known for. "Yup. From last night." She leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping into a whisper. “I got your back, girl.”

Azzi’s confusion turned into a sudden burst of laughter. "Oh. That kind of ear plugs," she said, her smirk widening as she realized what Caroline meant. Her voice dropped into a teasing tone. "You’re terrible, but I see how it is."

Caroline, dramatically pretending to be serious, nodded as if the ear plugs were a matter of national security. "Exactly. Thought I’d let you know, so you can make good use of them today." Her voice had that playful lilt, like she was just waiting for Azzi to bite on the joke.

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh, her cheeks a little pink now, but not bothered. She shot Caroline a side-eye. "You're the worst," she said, shaking her head, but there was a clear fondness in her eyes.

Caroline shrugged with exaggerated innocence, like she was the queen of comedy. "What can I say? I’m basically a stand-up comedian at this point," she said, throwing a playful wink before tossing a quick wave toward Paige and Nika, who were still arguing over pancakes like it was the most important decision of their lives.

"Tell Paige to keep it down, alright?" Caroline said with a grin, before strolling away to rejoin the others.

Azzi, still laughing, turned to Paige, who was in the middle of cracking up at something Nika just said. Azzi tapped her shoulder softly, and when Paige looked at her, Azzi smirked. "Babe," she said, the words dripping with playful sarcasm, "Caroline says I gotta keep you down a notch."

Paige shot her a confused look, eyes wide for a second before bursting into laughter. "What? Keep me down? I'm not that loud." She was practically shouting it in that classic Paige way, but Azzi already knew she was totally aware of what the issue was—Paige’s voice could easily be heard over a stadium crowd.

Azzi chuckled and shoved her lightly, the playful energy between them never fading. "Yeah, well, apparently, we’re ‘the loud ones’ this morning." She motioned around the breakfast hall, where the rest of the teammates were all pretending not to notice, but were absolutely soaking in the drama.

Paige leaned back in her chair, making a big show of scanning the room like it was some deep mystery. "Okay, okay," she said in an exaggerated whisper, but loud enough for everyone to hear, "Note to self: don’t let us be too loud. We don’t wanna disturb Caroline’s delicate sensibilities."

Azzi couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the sarcasm in Paige’s voice. "Exactly. And you’re lucky we’re not getting a noise complaint," she said, shaking her head but clearly loving the banter.

As they all started heading out of the breakfast room, Caroline was already waving them off from a distance. Azzi leaned in close to Paige, her voice dropping low. "Do you think she actually likes you?" she whispered with a smirk.

Paige turned to Azzi, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, for sure. I mean, who wouldn’t? I’m, like, the life of the party." She threw her arms out like she was accepting an imaginary award.

Azzi rolled her eyes, giving her that you're insufferable look. "Yeah, you’re a real handful, you know that?"

Paige just winked, unfazed. "But you love it." ━

As they stepped into their hotel room, Azzi collapsed onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, her eyes half-lidded and giving major I just woke up energy. She fumbled for her phone, brain still foggy from the early morning rush, and typed out a quick message to her parents: "Hey, we’re all up! Probably gonna be outside all day, just exploring. I’ll hit you up when we get back!" After hitting send, she added a selfie of herself sprawled out on the bed, rocking the I’m half-dead but still cute vibe. Her tired smile was soft against the warm morning light, and it had just enough chill to make it look like this is me in my element, taking naps and sending cute pics.

Paige, who’d been across the room chugging water like she was dehydrated from a marathon, spotted the pic and immediately jumped on the bed with an exaggerated gasp. "Wait, hold up. You’re just gonna send a pic without me in it?" she teased, all dramatic and over the top, totally playing the part of someone offended for real—but her voice was all play, no malice. Before Azzi could even process, Paige pulled her into a kiss, her lips lingering for a hot second on Azzi's cheek. Then she pulled back, snapping a pic like a paparazzi, capturing the moment with a mischievous grin.

Azzi was caught off guard, her phone almost slipping from her hand as she burst into laughter. "You’re such an attention hog," she giggled, swatting at Paige in that playful, not-really-pushing-her-away way, clearly loving every second of the drama.

Paige, grinning like she just pulled off a major heist, held up the picture she just took. "Perfection," she said smugly, giving it the thumbs-up as if she’d just scored the winning shot in a game. "Gotta send that to your fam now."

Azzi, still cracking up, snatched her phone back and—without missing a beat—sent the goofy photo straight into her family’s group chat with the message: “I have to wake up to this girl everyday”

Her family had long gotten used to the duo’s antics. Katie and Tim were as close to Paige as Azzi was, so they were all on the same wavelength of “yep, this is just another day with these two.” Azzi had learned a long time ago to just roll with it whenever Paige made her the star of one of her goofy stunts.

Meanwhile, Paige was already texting her own crew. "Hope you guys are good!" she messaged her parents, Amy and Bob, before sending them the pic of Azzi mid-laugh, her smile so bright it could probably outshine the sun. She knew her parents would be grinning at the photo the same way Paige was. Then, Paige shot off a text to Drew: "Hope you slept good, bro. I’ll call you later when I get a sec."

Azzi, eyes twinkling with affection, watched her. "You and your family are seriously something else," she teased softly. "Always turning everything into a photo shoot."

Paige kicked back on the bed, lifting her legs and draping them lazily over Azzi’s lap. "Hey," she shot back, half-serious but with a wink, "I’m just spreading the love, babe. We're lucky to have this. You know that, right?" She ran her hand through her hair, casually glancing at Azzi like they were the only two people in the world. "Finding your person at this age? That doesn’t happen for everyone."

Azzi’s expression softened, a quiet moment passing between them. She reached for Paige’s hand, fingers intertwining as she leaned her head against Paige’s shoulder. "Yeah," Azzi agreed, her voice warm and sincere. "We’re lucky."

Paige smiled, her lips pressing against the top of Azzi’s head for a quick kiss. "Real lucky."

Azzi pulled back just a little, her smirk playful. "Lucky and totally ridiculous," she added, her eyes sparkling with affection.

"Hey," Paige chuckled, nudging Azzi with her shoulder, "you’re ridiculous too."

Azzi shot her a playful look, standing up and pulling Paige by the hand. "Let’s make sure we get some actual pictures today," she teased, her smile teasing in that I see right through you way.

Paige groaned in mock exasperation but was still grinning like she won the lottery. "Fine, fine," she said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "No more weird selfies... for now."

━ Azzi flopped onto her back with a satisfied sigh, stretching her arms out like a cat in the sunlight. The golden morning glow spilled across the room, hitting just right, making everything feel a little too perfect. The city view through the window was borderline cinematic, but she was too comfortable to appreciate it properly.

Paige, leaning casually against the window frame, smirked. “Az, that balcony’s calling my name.” Her tone was dripping with mischief. “Plenty of time, no rush…”

Azzi groaned, already knowing where this was going. She cracked one eye open and shot Paige a look. “You are not about to fuck me in front of half the city, Paige. Some things deserve a little mystery, yeah?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, like she was actually considering it. “Temptation’s a funny thing,” she mused, before disappearing into the bathroom.

Azzi exhaled a laugh, shaking her head. Absolute menace.

When Paige reappeared, towel in hand, she froze for a second.

Azzi was sprawled out on the bed, sunlight kissing her skin, hair messy in a way that wasn’t on purpose but still looked like a damn magazine cover. She had that sleepy, relaxed expression—the kind that Paige swore was reserved just for her. Like she was the only person in the world who got to see Azzi like this.

Paige didn’t even think before moving. She climbed onto the bed and curled up against Azzi’s side, resting her head on her chest like it was second nature. Azzi hummed, shifting just enough to pull her in closer, their faces now inches apart. Close enough for Paige to feel the soft warmth of Azzi’s breath against her lips.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Paige murmured, voice low, affectionate.

Azzi’s lips twitched into a smile, her eyes shining with something quiet, something that always made Paige’s heart feel too big for her chest. “Hey, you,” she whispered back, like it was a secret just for them.

They just… looked at each other for a second. No rush, no need to fill the silence. Azzi’s gaze was steady, deep, like she saw right through Paige—like she always did. Paige could get lost in those eyes, no problem. She kinda already was.

And then, without another thought, Azzi leaned in, closing the space between them. The kiss was soft, slow—one of those kisses that made time irrelevant. The kind that didn’t need words because everything was already there. Paige melted into it, into her, into the way Azzi’s arms tightened around her like she wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Azzi pulled her even closer, until their foreheads touched, their breaths tangled up together. The world outside didn’t exist—just them, just this.

Paige smiled against Azzi’s skin. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Azzi let out a small, contented laugh, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Paige’s back. “I think I might have a pretty solid guess,” she teased, voice filled with that warmth that Paige would bottle up if she could.

Paige brushed a loose curl from Azzi’s face, her touch lingering. “You’re everything to me, Azzi.”

Azzi’s lips curled into a knowing, genuine smile. “You��re everything to me too, dummy.”

“Hey,” she murmured, eyes flicking between Azzi’s lips and the teasing glint in her eyes. “You wanna go to the park? I heard there’s a lake nearby.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, shifting just enough to put a little space between them—not that it lasted. “You know coach specifically told us not to drown,” she quipped, but there was a spark of excitement in her voice. She knew exactly what Paige was like when she got a random idea in her head.

Paige smirked and leaned in again, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. “You have me, Azzi,” she whispered, voice dipped in something deep and effortless. “You’re never gonna drown with me.”

Azzi scoffed, shaking her head with the kind of fondness that only Paige could pull out of her. Still, she pressed a quick kiss to Paige’s nose, barely suppressing her smile. “You’re such a sap.”

“I’m your sap,” Paige shot back, grinning like she’d just won something.

Azzi just laughed, rolling her eyes as she sat up. Paige stretched as she got off the bed, arms reaching high over her head, her shirt riding up just enough for Azzi to catch a glimpse of her boxers peeking out from her shorts.

Oh.

Yeah, okay. That was unfair.

Azzi bit the inside of her cheek, her gaze lingering maybe a second too long before Paige—blissfully unaware—offered her a hand.

“Come on,” Paige said, tugging Azzi up without waiting for a response. “The lake’s waiting, and I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna wait forever.”

Azzi let herself be pulled to her feet, shaking her head with a smirk. “Lead the way, Prince.”

Paige’s grin widened as she slung their bags over her shoulder, her movements effortless, a little cocky, like she was feeling herself just a bit too much. Azzi didn’t bother calling her out on it—she’d never admit that she liked it.

They double-checked their stuff before heading out, Paige slipping both of their phones into her pocket with the hotel keycard. As they stepped into the elevator, Paige leaned against the wall, all relaxed limbs and easy confidence. She caught Azzi staring and shot her a wink.

“Alright, let’s get lost in some summer Argentine streets,” she said as the doors opened, voice full of that endless, restless energy that made Azzi fall for her in the first place.

Azzi grinned, bumping her shoulder as they walked out. “You do know how to use a map, right?”

Paige gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Wow. Wow. You think I’d get us lost?”

Azzi gave her a look.

Paige shrugged. “Okay, fair. But, like… what’s the worst that could happen?”

Azzi sighed, but she was laughing. “I guess we’ll find out.” ━

They stepped outside, sunlight hitting them immediately, warm and golden. The streets buzzed with life—painted buildings in every shade imaginable, murals spilling across walls like stories in motion, vendors calling out their best deals, music drifting from open windows. It was loud and colorful and alive.

Paige let out a low whistle. “Damn,” she said, taking it all in. “I swear, I could live here.”

Azzi hummed, watching as Paige’s eyes bounced from one thing to another, like she was trying to soak up everything at once. With a small smile, she leaned her head against Paige’s shoulder as they walked. “I know what you mean. It’s like this place just pulls you in.”

Paige squeezed her hand, that same easy, confident energy settling between them.

They walked on, fingers loosely intertwined, laughter blending into the hum of the city, knowing that no matter where they went, this—the quiet moments, the teasing, the touches that lingered—was what really mattered. ━

As Paige and Azzi made their way into the park, the nature surrounding was nothing short of breathtaking. The area was straight-up unreal—towering trees, tangled marshes, and little lagoons scattered like something out of a Studio Ghibli film. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth, the sun filtering through the trees in golden streaks. Everything felt untouched, like they’d stumbled into some secret corner of the world.

“Okay, this place is giving national park energy,” Paige said, eyes scanning the scene in pure admiration. “Like, I’m waiting for a Lion King to pop out.”

Azzi smirked, squeezing Paige’s hand a little tighter. “Right? It’s kinda insane. Feels like we should be narrating this like a nature documentary.” She deepened her voice dramatically, “And here, we have two incredibly lost American tourists—”

“—with zero survival skills,” Paige finished, grinning. “But, like, we’re hot, so it balances out.”

Azzi laughed, nodding at a sign up ahead. “Okay, but real talk. What do you think that says?” The text was in Spanish, and neither of them was exactly fluent.

Paige squinted, pretending to analyze it. “Well… ‘lago’ sounds like lake. So, I vote we go that way.”

Azzi tilted her head, considering. “Lakes and wetlands? Sounds like a vibe.”

They followed the trail, the sound of their footsteps blending with rustling leaves and distant bird calls. The deeper they got, the more unreal it felt—wild greenery, bursts of colorful flowers, and the occasional rustle in the underbrush that made Paige whisper dramatically, “That’s gotta be a capybara.”

When they finally reached the lake, it was straight out of a dream. The water stretched wide and clear, shimmering under the afternoon sun. A small wooden bridge arched over one section, worn but sturdy, with wet footprints marking where someone had just walked across.

Azzi exhaled slowly, taking it all in. “This… is kinda perfect.”

Paige dropped her bag with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah. Lowkey jealous of the capybaras living their best lives out here.”

Azzi chuckled, but then winced slightly, reaching down to rub her knee. “Ugh. I think I pulled something earlier.”

Paige immediately turned to her, brows furrowing. “Wait—your knees? You good?”

“Yeah, I just need to sit for a sec.”

Paige smirked, stretching her arms out dramatically. “You could sit on me if you want.”

Azzi shot her a look. “You’re so extra.” But she still took Paige up on the offer, settling between her legs as Paige leaned back against a tree, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s waist. The warmth of Paige’s body pressed against her back, grounding her in a way she didn’t even realize she needed.

“This better?” Paige murmured, her hands moving to Azzi’s knee, massaging gently.

Azzi melted into the touch, closing her eyes. “Mmm. Yeah, much better.”

Paige grinned, placing a soft kiss against Azzi’s shoulder. “Good. ‘Cause I plan on spoiling you all day.”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head to glance at Paige. “You always do.”

“And I’m just getting started.” Paige’s voice dropped to that playful, intimate tone that always made Azzi’s stomach flip. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the curve of Azzi’s neck, sending warmth spiraling through her veins.

Azzi turned slightly, their eyes meeting, the air between them charged. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?”

Paige grinned. “It’s my full-time job, actually.”

Azzi laughed softly, shaking her head before pressing her forehead against Paige’s. The world around them blurred, the distant sounds of the park fading into the background. It was just them—their breaths mingling, the steady rhythm of Paige’s heartbeat against Azzi’s back, the unspoken promise that wherever they went, whatever they did, moments like this would always feel like home.

━ Azzi slowly stirred from her nap, the soft rustle of the grass beneath her and the warmth of the afternoon sun making it hard to stay asleep. A light breeze skimmed over her skin, carrying the scent of wildflowers and lake water. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the golden light filtering through the leaves. The first thing she registered—before she even fully remembered where she was—was the feeling of Paige’s fingers lazily running through her curls.

Paige had a habit of touching her without even thinking about it, like it was second nature. Soft, absentminded, comforting. Azzi swore Paige didn’t even realize she did it half the time, but Azzi did. Every single time.

She shifted, rolling over just enough to face Paige, her limbs feeling pleasantly heavy from sleep. Paige was half-asleep too, her eyes barely open, a lazy grin stretching across her face.

Azzi smiled sleepily, voice still soft from the nap. “Good morning, cutie.”

Paige blinked at her, squinting slightly. “Is it morning already?”

Azzi laughed, her voice light and happy as she reached out and kissed Paige’s lips gently. “Yeah, it’s morning somewhere.”

Paige hummed, clearly not fully awake but still committed to flirting. “How was your nap?”

“The best nap so far,” Azzi murmured, stretching her arms above her head and letting the fresh air fill her lungs. “The air out here... it’s just different. I feel like I could sleep forever.”

“I agree,” Paige said softly, still playing with a curl, twirling it between her fingers. She looked at Azzi with that familiar, easy adoration in her eyes, like she was looking at her favorite view. “It’s like this place has its own rhythm. So peaceful.”

Azzi rested her head on Paige’s chest, her voice quiet but serious. “Can we stay like this forever? Just in our little world here?”

Paige’s heart melted at the thought. She ran her hand over Azzi’s back, her thumb lightly tracing the curves of her spine. “Yeah, I’d love that too. It’s okay that we only know like five words in Spanish, right?”

Azzi grinned, looking up at her. “Yeah, it’s just us. Who needs words when we’ve got this?”

Paige chuckled softly. “We do have ankles to break back at home, though…” she trailed off, her tone playful. “But yeah. I’d love it here. With you.”

Azzi smiled to herself, her fingers tracing patterns on Paige’s stomach, the soft rise and fall of her breath calming her. There was no rush in this moment. No expectations. No cameras. Just their silly, random thoughts filling the silence. Just them.

Paige leaned down, her lips brushing against Azzi’s forehead before she suddenly rolled her over, flipping them so Azzi was the one lying on the soft grass now. Azzi gasped, laughing as her curls fanned out around her. The sunlight hit them just right, turning the strands golden at the edges. Paige lowered herself, her lips finding Azzi’s once again—this time more urgent, more alive.

Azzi barely had time to react before she found herself laughing into the kiss. “Paige, I—”

Paige pulled back just a little, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Azzi, I’m kinda in the middle of something here.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, trying to stifle her giggles. “And so am I.”

Paige blinked, clearly confused. “What?”

Before Paige could say anything else, Azzi’s hands reached down, and with a grin, she held up a tiny, fluffy white kitten. It mewed softly, its tiny paws stretching in the air like it had also just woken up from a nap.

Paige blinked again, now in pure disbelief. “Wait. Where did you even find that?!”

Azzi grinned wider, holding the cat up to Paige’s face. “Doesn’t matter. She’s ours now.”

Paige gave the kitten a careful once-over, gently picking it up. “Okay, but is it a boy or a girl?”

Azzi leaned in, squinting. “Uh, I think it’s a girl?”

Paige nodded like she was making a very important executive decision. “Yep, she’s a girl,” she said, now cradling the kitten like it was the most delicate thing in the world.

Azzi burst into laughter, watching Paige immediately turn soft over a cat she had met literally ten seconds ago. “You’re so extra.”

“I’m not extra,” Paige defended with a dramatic scoff. “This little girl is just a whole vibe.”

Azzi smirked. “Guess we’re parents now. She’s our responsibility.”

Paige lit up. “Alright, I’m gonna name her... uh, Mimi.” She looked at Azzi for approval, eyes full of anticipation.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the fond smile on her lips gave her away. “Mimi? That’s your best idea?”

Paige shrugged dramatically. “Hey, I think it suits her. She’s cute, sweet, and a little wild.”

Azzi giggled, leaning up to kiss Paige’s cheek. “Fine. Mimi it is.”

Paige stretched out on the grass, gazing up at the clear sky, then over at the sparkling lake just beyond them. The sun glinted off the water, making it look almost unreal, like something out of a painting. She turned to Azzi with a grin, her eyes playful. “Sooo… wanna jump in the lake?”

Azzi side-eyed the water, then side-eyed Paige. “I’d rather get bitten by those mosquitoes chilling on that tree,” she said, pointing dramatically. “At least they’d be quick about it.”

Paige snorted, her grin widening. “Even if you had a thousand mosquito bites, I’d still kiss you all over. Just to make it better.”

Azzi stared at her, blinking in disbelief. “How dumb are you?”

“Hey, I’d do it for you,” Paige said with a shrug, trying to keep a straight face before cracking up. “Okay, okay, maybe I’m a little dumb, but it’s the thought that counts.”

Azzi shook her head, trying to hold back her own smile. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Paige sat up, holding out a hand. “Come on. Let’s go to the pier. It’ll be fun.”

Azzi sighed like she was agreeing reluctantly, but her fingers still laced with Paige’s the moment she reached for her. Their hands fit together so naturally, so easily, like they had always been meant to find each other.

And just like that, they walked toward the wooden pier, their laughter filling the air, their world existing only for them. ━

By the time they made it to the end of the pier, Paige wasted zero time, plopping down on the edge like she owned the place. She stretched her legs out, swung them over the water, and took a deep, dramatic breath like she was soaking in the cinematic beauty of the moment. Then, without hesitation, she grabbed the hem of her shirt, yanked it off, and folded it way too neatly for someone who was about to do something dumb. Her shorts came next, leaving her in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of boxers, the waistband slightly rolled down like she was trying to look effortlessly cool.

She shot Azzi a grin, all mischief. “You sure you’re not tempted?”

Azzi barely blinked. “Tempted to do what? Watch you lose a limb to whatever’s lurking in that water? Not particularly.”

Paige snorted. “Nika told you there are sharks, didn’t she?”

Azzi raised a single, unimpressed brow. “She was very convincing.”

“Az, she told me the same thing about Croatia, and guess what? Both my legs? Still here. My head? Still attached. All ten fingers? Check.” Paige wiggled them like she was proving a point.

Azzi side-eyed the water, still unconvinced. “You’re actually insane.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paige said, waving a dismissive hand before—yup—yeeting herself into the lake like she had no sense of self-preservation.

The splash was massive. Water rained down onto the pier, soaking Azzi’s legs and a good chunk of her lap. She gasped, nearly toppling over. “Paige! What the hell?!”

Paige resurfaced, grinning way too wide, her hair plastered to her face like a wet dog. “That. Was. Amazing.” She wiped water from her eyes. “Get in here, babe. It’s perfect.”

Azzi, still sitting in her newly damp clothes, let out a sharp laugh but shook her head. “Paige. My knees.”

Paige’s expression turned dramatic in an instant, her voice dropping into something soft, teasing, yet somehow serious. “If you need me to carry you back to the hotel, I’ll do it. A thousand times over.” She tipped her head, eyes gleaming. “Just jump. I got you.”

Azzi chewed the inside of her cheek, glancing between Paige and the water like she was mentally calculating all possible ways this could go wrong. But then there was Paige—drenched, grinning, looking up at her with that signature dumbass confidence.

Ugh.

Azzi exhaled through her nose. “You are such a dork.”

“And yet, you’re still in love with me,” Paige shot back, tossing in a wink.

Azzi groaned, but it wasn’t exactly a denial. She stood, brushing off the dirt on her legs, already regretting every decision that led her here. “If I get eaten by something, it’s on you.”

“No one’s getting eaten. Except maybe—”

“Paige.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be good.”

“Paige,” Azzi drawled, giving her a look.

Paige snapped out of it, blinking rapidly. “Right, okay. You’re totally gonna jump this time, yeah? No backing out?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, shaking out her limbs like she was prepping for war. “I will literally—”

“Okay, on three.” Paige clapped her hands together, excitement written all over her face. “One!”

Azzi swallowed.

“Twoooooo—” Paige drew it out, eyes sparkling.

“I can’t, PAIGE” Azzi took a step back like she was contemplating running for her life.

Paige full-on cackled, arms slapping the water. “GET IN! YOU’RE SO DRAMATIC!”

Azzi crossed her arms, cheeks warm, her voice dropping to a soft, amused murmur. “Paige. You’re so loud.”

Paige immediately shut up. Her expression shifted, something almost sheepish flickering across her face. She exhaled, lowering her voice. “Okay, sorry. Didn’t mean to yell.” Then, after a beat, she softened completely. “Just… please? Get in the water, Azzi. For me?”

Azzi met her gaze, heart racing as she saw how earnestly Paige was asking—how much she wanted this. And despite herself, despite every logical reason to roll her eyes and walk away, Azzi laughed, a soft, shy giggle escaping her lips. “You really are something else.”

Then, with zero warning, she let out a dramatic scream, took three quick steps back, and then full-send sprinted toward the edge of the pier. The second her feet left the wooden planks, she regretted everything.

“SHI—”

SPLASH.

The lake swallowed her whole. Cold, murky water rushed over her head, sending a shock down her spine. She surfaced a second later, hair plastered to her face, gasping. “Paige, I swear to God—”

But before she could finish, Paige launched herself in right after her, limbs flailing in what could only be described as the least graceful dive known to man. Water exploded around them, rippling outward in chaotic waves. Azzi barely had time to react before Paige popped up right in front of her, grinning like she just won the lottery.

“You are INSANE,” Azzi huffed, swiping wet strands of hair out of her face. “Do you know how many diseases there are in here?”

Paige shrugged, completely unbothered. “Do you know how hot you look right now?”

Azzi rolled her eyes but felt the warmth creeping up her neck anyway. “Shut up.”

Paige floated closer, her smile softening. “No, really.”

They were inches apart now, the water swirling around them, the world suddenly too quiet. Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige’s fingers brushed against her wrist, featherlight, like she wasn’t even sure she was allowed to touch her.

“Hi, silly,” Azzi whispered, lips barely moving, her voice soft enough that it was almost lost in the sound of water lapping at the shore.

Paige’s chest tightened. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she rested her hands lightly on Azzi’s waist, like holding something delicate, something she didn’t want to startle away. “Hey,” she whispered back.

They stood there, locked in something neither of them had the words for. The sun hung low in the sky, streaking pink and orange across the water, but Azzi wasn’t looking at the sunset. She was looking at Paige. Paige, with her messy wet bun slipping out of place, with droplets of water clinging to her skin, with that infuriatingly soft expression that made Azzi’s stomach flip.

Paige tilted her head toward the sky. “Hey, Azzi.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “What?”

Paige smirked, all mischief. “Look at the sky.”

Azzi frowned, skeptical. “Why? Are you about to propose?”

“Just look, baby. Trust me.”

Azzi sighed but glanced up anyway. The clouds were tinged gold, a few birds soaring overhead, and—

WHOOSH

Before she even registered what happened, Paige’s hands found her shoulders and shoved. Hard.

Azzi yelped as she was sent plunging backwards into the water, sinking under with a flurry of bubbles. For a split second, all she saw was murky blue-green, feet kicking up tiny storms of sand from the lake floor.

When she surfaced, sputtering, she wiped her face and glared at Paige, who was cackling so hard she nearly went under herself. “Really?!”

Paige, still giggling, gave a lazy shrug. “You looked too peaceful.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. With all the speed and precision of a trained athlete, she lunged forward and grabbed Paige by the wrist, yanking her under in one swift motion.

Paige let out a muffled “HEY—” before the water swallowed her whole.

Azzi waited, smug, arms crossed as she floated. Paige resurfaced a moment later, blinking furiously, hair now completely undone and sticking to her face in tangled wet strands.

“Okay,” Paige admitted, breathless, “I might’ve deserved that.”

“You definitely deserved that.”

They floated there, the tension between them buzzing like an exposed wire. Something had shifted, something neither of them could name, but they both felt it—like the second before lightning strikes, like standing on the edge of something vast and unknown.

Paige broke the silence first, her voice dipping lower. “Hey, Azzi…”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head. “What now?”

Paige’s grin turned wicked. “Have you ever had an underwater kiss?”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

Paige floated closer, eyes glinting. “I mean, we’re already here. Might as well cross it off the bucket list.”

Azzi stared at her, torn between laughing and throwing Paige across the lake. “Paige. We’re gonna drown.”

Paige smirked. “Then let’s make it a memorable way to go.”

Azzi huffed, biting her lip. “Okay, but I swear to God, if I die, I’m haunting you.”

Paige grinned, voice dropping into something teasing, something warm. “Deal.”

Before Azzi could overthink it, Paige grabbed her hand and pulled them both under.

For a moment, everything was still. ━

The world above blurred into soft, shifting light. Below, the water muffled every sound, wrapping them in quiet, in something weightless and infinite. Azzi’s fingers curled instinctively around Paige’s wrist, their hands slipping slightly, but neither of them let go.

They hovered there, breath held, foreheads nearly brushing, their noses barely touching. Azzi’s pulse roared in her ears. Paige’s hand found her jaw, fingers warm even in the cold water, thumb tracing a path along her cheekbone like she was memorizing her by touch alone.

Azzi exhaled, bubbles trailing up toward the surface. Paige smiled, just slightly, before leaning in.

Then, with no more hesitation, they leaned in, their lips meeting in the cool, damp air of the water. The kiss was slow at first—gentle—unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. But as the seconds stretched, it grew deeper, more urgent, as though neither of them wanted to let go of the moment.

Paige’s hands slid around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer, her grip tightening as she brought their bodies flush together. The pressure was electric—Azzi could feel every inch of Paige, the strong hands on her back, the way her breath quickened beneath the water. And just as their kiss deepened, Paige’s hands moved lower, squeezing Azzi’s ass just a little too much, pulling a small, weak slap from Azzi.

Azzi pulled back slightly, eyes wide in mock indignation. “Did you seriously just—”

But before she could finish her sentence, Paige grinned, pulling her back to the surface. They both broke through the water, gasping for air, their faces flushed and their hearts still racing.

Azzi’s chest rose and fell with every breath, her skin tingling from the adrenaline. She smiled at Paige, a little out of breath but feeling like she’d just experienced something she never expected to. “That was... better than I thought,” she admitted, her lips curling into a soft grin. “Thanks for having my first underwater kiss with me.”

Paige’s smile widened, and without missing a beat, she gave Azzi a playful squeeze on the ass in response. “You’re welcome, baby.” She leaned in, her voice teasing but full of warmth. “Next time, I’ll let you squeeze back.”

Azzi laughed, rolling her eyes but feeling the warmth in her chest. “Oh, please,” she scoffed, but there was a smile on her lips that told Paige everything she needed to know. “You’re lucky I’m not drowning you right now.”

But even as she said it, she pulled Paige closer, as if she never wanted to let her go.

Azzi looked at Paige, her brow raised in playful skepticism, and suddenly broke the moment with a soft chuckle. "We're both living icks right now," she said, a little incredulously, but still with that mischievous smile of hers.

Paige's face softened, her usual teasing expression morphing into something more genuine as she laughed lightly. "I don't care," she shrugged, the carefreeness in her tone a reflection of her easygoing nature. “You think I care about looking cute? Nah, I’m just here for you.”

Azzi couldn’t help but smile at Paige’s carefree confidence, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. In that moment, she leaned forward slowly, pressing her lips to Paige’s in a soft kiss. It wasn’t rushed or heated, just a moment of pure connection. She pulled away slightly, her lips still hovering near Paige’s as she whispered, “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Paige’s eyes softened, her thumb gently brushing against Azzi’s cheek as she let out a breath, almost as if she was taking in the full weight of the words. “Well, you don’t have to,” she said, her voice tender. Her lips met Azzi’s again, and this time the kiss felt even deeper, like a promise that there was no going back. No separation. They were already too intertwined to untangle.

Azzi couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, her heart feeling full, as if the whole world had shrunk down to just them in that moment. She pulled away a fraction, still looking at Paige. In the quiet of the space between them, Azzi’s mind wandered, her thoughts swirling as she realized something she hadn’t before. Paige had a way of making my Mondays feel like Fridays. It was like every moment with her was the weekend, no matter what time of the week it was. She couldn’t remember the last time something felt so easy, so simple.

Paige, too, was lost in her own thoughts as she gazed at Azzi. She was still replaying that moment when Azzi first said "hello" to her. It was casual—no big deal, just a greeting—but in that second, Paige had known something was different. Like the whole universe had just shifted and aligned in a way she couldn’t explain. Azzi’s hello was the start of everything, and Paige was hooked from then on.

“Do you ever think about that?” Paige asked softly, a little out of nowhere, her eyes searching Azzi’s.

Azzi, still caught up in the moment and the thought of how quickly she had fallen, just shrugged lightly, a smirk tugging at her lips. "What, how I got you wrapped around my finger from the start?" she teased, but there was softness in her voice, as if the question wasn’t all that far from the truth.

Paige laughed, leaning her forehead against Azzi’s. “Yeah, something like that.”

They were sitting there, the world just kinda fading into the background. Silence hung between them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was peaceful, like everything around them was just... right. Azzi couldn’t help but smile, the kind of smile that said she’d found something she didn’t know she was looking for.

She let out a quiet breath, leaning into Paige’s arm, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on the soft fabric of Paige's sleeve. “I’m lucky, you know that?” she said, her voice low, but there was a quiet certainty in it—like she’d been waiting for this moment, for Paige.

Paige glanced down at her, that easy grin spreading across her face, like she didn’t even have to think about it. She pushed a damp strand of hair from Azzi’s face, her touch lingering for a second longer than needed. “We both are,” Paige replied softly, her words full of something warm—something that wrapped around Azzi like a blanket.

Then, with the same ease, Paige kissed Azzi’s forehead, a kiss that wasn’t rushed, just... perfect. “I’m glad I found you,” she murmured, her voice almost a whisper but hitting Azzi like a wave.

Azzi let herself melt against Paige’s shoulder, the gentle rise and fall of her chest the only thing that anchored her to the moment.

━ The cool lake water clung to their skin as they waded out, droplets catching the last rays of the sun. The sky was still bright, but the evening light was starting to mellow, turning everything around them a golden shade, like the world had been dipped in honey. The air was crisp, the kind of comfortable that felt like a soft hug from the inside. The lake's quiet lapping was the loudest sound, other than the occasional bird doing its thing and the distant hum of traffic, still too far to be bothersome.

Paige snagged her phone from where it rested on the towel, checking the time with one hand as the other wiped water from her face. A few notifications lit up her screen. Of course, she thought with a soft eye roll.

KK: twin where have y’all been? oh and also can i borrow your charger? i left mine in storrs

Paige smiled to herself. Classic KK. She quickly typed a reply, her thumbs moving fast.

Paige: Az and I went to the lake, and yeah, you can borrow it. We’ll be back at the hotel soon.

She sent it and scrolled down to the next message.

Ice: we’re at the hotel, chillin’. also, i think azzi’s underwear was stuck in the sheets or something. Y’all really have to do a better job at this.

Paige snorted, holding her phone a little tighter as she laughed quietly. Seriously, Ice? She typed back, shaking her head as she tried to stop smiling.

Paige: dude, are you seriously bringing this up in a text. just don’t tell az, her knees are acting up. we’ll be back soon.

She laughed to herself at her own reply before moving on to the next one.

Aubs: whats the password to your netflix acc? We been trynna put on some friends. Hope y’all enjoyed the afternoon. Paige: i’mma tell you when i get there, and yes we did. It was splendid.

She hit send, then scrolled through a few photos her little brother, Drew, had sent. She grinned and sent them back to him with a quick caption.

Meanwhile, Azzi was slipping into her knitted bodycon, the fabric soft and tight, hugging her figure in a way that made Paige’s heart do a little flip. Azzi walked over with that effortless smile, rubbing Paige’s back in a playful way. Paige glanced up as she typed another reply, noticing Azzi and feeling her pulse quicken a little.

Azzi leaned in, resting her cheek on Paige’s shoulder, and Paige could feel her breath tickling her skin. Azzi was so close that it made Paige’s fingers fumble just slightly, her thumbs stumbling over the keys.

Azzi pressed a quick, soft kiss to Paige’s cheek, pulling back with that easy, warm grin that made Paige’s heart squeeze.

“Ready to go?” Azzi’s voice was soft but playful, like she was ready to roll but still wanted to tease.

Paige grinned, matching her tone. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

━

Hand in hand, they stepped onto the cobblestone streets of the little Argentine town, the kind of place where everything felt real and vibrant. The air was fresh with that perfect mix of crispness and warmth, and the whole town buzzed with life. The hum of people talking, laughing, and just living their lives echoed around them. In the distance, they could hear kids kicking a soccer ball around, their voices rising in excited shouts, the sound of sneakers skidding on the cobbles. It was the kind of place that felt like it could steal your heart in an instant.

As they walked, they passed street vendors with carts loaded with colorful snacks—bright pink cotton candy, crispy empanadas sizzling on grills, and freshly fried churros piled high, their sugar coating sparkling in the sun. The smell of grilled meat mixed with sweet, fried goodness, and it made Paige’s stomach rumble, but she couldn’t help but smile as she took in the scene.

“Azzi, look at that,” Paige said, her voice full of that playful excitement that was impossible to ignore, pointing at a stall overflowing with sugary treats that practically begged to be eaten. “We gotta come back for that.”

Azzi’s eyes lit up, her usual smirk turning into a full-blown grin. “I’m in.” She was always in for the little moments—moments like this, with Paige, that made everything feel like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.

They continued strolling down the street, the world feeling slow, easy, and effortless. The sun had started its descent, casting a golden glow on everything, and it felt like they could walk forever. Paige squeezed Azzi’s hand, pulling her a little closer as they moved through the crowd, their fingers intertwined, the connection between them as natural as breathing. The distant hum of traffic filled the air, but it was more like background noise to the peace they found in each other’s presence.

But before they could go any further, a soft, shy voice interrupted their bubble.

“Excuse me,” a little girl said, tapping Paige lightly on the shoulder. Paige turned around, meeting the shy, almost nervous gaze of the girl. She was small, with big brown eyes and an adorable, awkward smile. "Can I take a photo with you?" The girl’s English was halting, but her excitement was crystal clear in her sparkling eyes.

Paige’s heart melted. She smiled warmly, crouching down to the girl’s level so they were eye-to-eye. “Of course,” she said, her voice soft and kind. “Do you want Azzi in the picture too?”

The girl’s face lit up like it was the best thing she’d heard all day, her smile stretching wide. Paige looked up at Azzi, who was watching with an amused grin, clearly finding the whole thing endearing. Paige reached out for Azzi’s hand and pulled her gently toward the girl.

Azzi leaned in, one hand resting casually on her hip, while Paige draped an arm around the girl’s shoulders. The three of them stood there, grinning like they were best friends, a snapshot of simple happiness. The camera clicked, and just as quickly, the girl squeezed them both in a tight hug, giggling as she pulled away.

“¡Gracias!” she exclaimed, waving at them before darting off, her little laugh trailing behind her like a melody.

Azzi turned to Paige, her grin wide and genuine. “That was cute,” she said, her voice light but full of warmth.

Paige wrapped her arm around Azzi’s shoulders as they continued their walk, their fingers still locked together. “Yeah,” she agreed, smiling at the thought. “Just makes me realize how lucky we are, you know? That we get to be... us. Together.”

Azzi leaned into her, her cheek lightly resting against Paige’s shoulder, the comfort of the moment settling around them like a warm blanket. They continued walking through the bustling streets, the sounds of Spanish chatter and children’s laughter filling the air, the distant honk of a car horn a soft reminder of the outside world. But in that moment, it was just the two of them—walking through life side by side, perfectly in sync.

“It’s perfect,” Azzi said softly, her voice almost a whisper as she looked up at Paige. “I love it here... I love this.” Her words held that quiet intensity that Paige had come to adore, a mix of vulnerability and awe.

Paige smiled, pulling Azzi a little closer, her heart swelling. “Me too. And I love you,” she whispered, just loud enough for Azzi to hear.

Azzi glanced up, her lips curving into a smile that was as soft and genuine as the words she whispered back. “I love you, too.” And they kept walking, their fingers intertwined, as the lights of the city began to twinkle in the distance, everything falling into place perfectly, like it was meant to be.

━ The hotel room door creaked open, the sounds of their teammates already filling the space. It was that perfect blend of familiar chaos—soft TV murmurs, the occasional rustle of a snack bag, and the calming hum of a few pages flipping. Nika was on the carpet, propped up against the wall, her feet stretched out and her head buried in a fashion mag. Her expression? The usual mix of smug satisfaction and a vibe that screamed “I’m better than you, but I’ll let you find out on your own.”

Aubrey was standing by the TV, frowning like she was one wrong button away from throwing the remote out the window. Paige could hear the subtle click of buttons being pressed and the muffled curse when something didn’t work. It was so Aubrey.

Meanwhile, Ice was sprawled on the bed, phone in hand, scrolling through TikTok like her life depended on it. Probably hunting for something totally absurd to send to Nika. You could almost hear her plotting the chaos in her head.

When Paige and Azzi walked in, the room buzzed with that comfortable, chaotic energy.

“Hey, you two,” Aubrey called out without even looking away from her screen, her voice tinged with frustration. "Come save me from this tech nightmare."

Paige shot a glance at the remote mess in Aubrey’s hands, then grinned. “Hey girls,” she said casually, almost too amused by the mess of tangled buttons and wires.

Nika didn’t even glance up at first, but then her eyes shifted to Azzi and Paige, and she raised a brow. “Yo, what happened to your clothes?” she asked, her voice muffled by the magazine, but her gaze clearly taking in the damp, lake-soaked situation. “Y’all look like you just swam across the freaking lake or something.”

Paige smirked, nudging Azzi. “We went for a little swim,” she said, her grin widening.

Azzi shot her a look, narrowing her eyes with dramatic flair. “You mean you almost drowned us?” she deadpanned. “Paige almost killed me, y’all.”

The teasing banter hit instantly. Paige burst out laughing, clearly delighted by Azzi’s sarcasm, while Azzi crossed her arms and shot Paige a sideways smile that could've cut glass. Nika rolled her eyes, but the tiny smile playing at her lips betrayed her fondness.

“You two are ridiculous,” Nika muttered, flipping another page in her magazine, but the tone in her voice was warm despite the irritation.

Paige raised an eyebrow at Azzi, giving her a playful shrug. “I think she likes us that way.”

Azzi smirked. “Maybe. But I’m gonna go catch up with Caroline in the next room. She wanted something,” she said, nonchalantly tossing the words out like they were nothing.

Paige tilted her head in curiosity, the corners of her lips tugging upward. “What’d she want?”

Azzi shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I don’t know, but I’ll be back soon. Don’t miss me too much,” she added with a wink, already starting to walk toward the door.

Before Azzi could leave, though, she leaned in, capturing Paige’s lips with a soft kiss. The moment lingered, almost teasing, before Azzi whispered, her lips still barely touching Paige’s, “Be good while I’m gone.”

Paige grinned, her hand catching Azzi’s before she pulled away. “Always,” she said with a wink of her own, watching her walk out, the door left slightly ajar, a sliver of warmth and chaos slipping through.

The moment the door clicks shut, Ice’s voice cuts through the room like a knife through butter. “Wait, did y’all seriously do it in a lake?” she asks, eyes wide with this mix of disbelief and amusement, like she can’t decide if she’s shocked or impressed.

Paige glares at Ice, narrowing her eyes with the perfect deadpan. “Isuneh, I swear to god,” she says, her voice dripping with that exaggerated, fake-threat energy that only Paige can pull off.

Ice throws her hands up in mock surrender, a grin stretching across her face. “Okay, okay, no need to get all scary on me,” she teases, laughing. “But y’all are always all smiley and shit. It’s cute. I just don’t need you two traumatizing us. The hotel staff is probably thinking all kinds of wild stuff.”

Paige rolls her eyes but can’t fully hide the smile creeping onto her face. “We’ll try, Ice, but you know—sometimes you gotta make things fun,” she says, her tone playful but with that little too chill vibe.

Ice snorts, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “Fun, huh?” she says, clearly not buying it.

Paige leans back against the wall, acting like she’s about to drop some serious info. “Oh, we did it on that bed, though,” she says, giving a nonchalant nod toward the bed Ice is currently lounging on, looking way too comfortable.

Ice’s face goes from carefree to straight-up horror in less than a second. She jumps off the bed like it just spontaneously combusted. “NOPE,” she practically yells, backing away from the bed like it might actually bite her. Her eyes are wide, and she’s nearly tripping over herself in her rush to get as far from it as possible.

Paige, now fully leaning into the drama, smirks and places her hands on her hips. “Thanks for the bed, Ice,” she says sweetly, but the sarcasm’s heavy in her voice.

Ice groans, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Paige with an exaggerated, theatrical pout. “Y’all are ridiculous. Just… just go wash your damn clothes,” she says, rolling her eyes so hard you can practically hear them spin.

Nika, finally done with the banter, chimes in, looking around the room as if she’s over it all. “Seriously, though, the hot steam massage? Too fire. Had to leave a tip even though it was free. It was that good,” she says, her tone like she’s just imparted some deep wisdom.

Aubrey lets out an overly dramatic groan from the corner, sounding like she’s ready to explode. “Guys, can someone PLEASE help me with the Netflix login? I’m this close to throwing this remote through the TV,” she says, holding up the remote like it’s her worst enemy.

Paige raises an eyebrow, amused by how worked up Aubrey is. “I got you,” she says, stepping over and swiping the remote from Aubrey’s hands, taking control like a pro. She taps the remote, bringing up the login screen, and pauses for a second, her fingers hovering over the keyboard with the same mischievous glint she always has.

“You know it’s Azzi,” she says, dragging out the words for maximum drama. With a grin, she types in the password: “Azzi<3Paige8785.”

Aubrey's eyes light up, and she lets out a satisfied sigh as the screen loads. “Yoo, thanks, you really are a lifesaver, huh,” she says, looking at Paige like she just performed some kind of magic.

“I know,” Paige says, flashing a wide grin at Aubrey. She tosses the remote onto the nearest bed and flops down on it dramatically, like she just won the Olympics. (Which in fact, she did, multiple times)

━ The group was lounging around the room, the low hum of their chatter filling the space. Nika had her legs sprawled out on the carpet, flipping through a fashion magazine like she was planning world domination with every turn of the page. Ice was on one of the beds, glued to her phone, scrolling through TikTok with the kind of focus most people reserve for finals week. Aubrey was perched on the edge of the bed, grumbling under her breath as she fought with the TV remote, trying to get Netflix working.

"So, beach plans, y’all?" Nika broke the silence with a playful grin, clearly in the mood for something fun. "Sunset vibes, campfire, grilled meat. I’m down."

Paige’s ears perked up like a dog hearing a snack wrapper. "Wait, are we doing s’mores? I’m so down for some s’mores."

Nika barely looked up from her magazine, the deadpan stare she shot Paige making it clear this was not a serious question. "Dude, we’re in Argentina. I don’t think they’re out here eating like average Americans, alright?"

Paige dramatically flopped back onto the couch, hands over her face like she’d been personally attacked. "Thanks for the enthusiasm, Nika. You’re a real mood booster."

Nika shot her a grin, eyes twinkling like she just won the lottery. "You’re welcome."

Just as Paige was about to respond, the door creaked open, and Azzi walked in, followed by Caroline. Everyone greeted Caroline with their usual warm energy, but Paige’s attention immediately snapped to Azzi. She looked even more radiant than usual, the fresh shower she’d just taken making her skin glow in the soft light of the room. Paige’s heart gave a little flip.

Azzi was effortlessly glowing in a white tank top and loose shorts, walking toward Paige with that mischievous glint in her eyes that made Paige’s breath hitch. Before Paige could even process, Azzi dropped onto her lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Hey, baby," Azzi murmured, her voice low and comfortable as she settled in, making Paige’s heart skip a beat.

Paige, still slightly in awe, leaned in, taking in the fresh scent of her skin. "You smell good, ma," she said softly, brushing a damp strand of Azzi’s hair from her face like it was the most intimate thing in the world.

Azzi smirked, teasing her as always. "You smell like fish," she said, wrinkling her nose like Paige had just insulted her.

Paige burst into laughter, the sound light and carefree. "Nice, babe. Real nice," she said, grinning before pressing a soft, wet kiss to Azzi’s neck. The contact made Azzi shiver, and she let out a low hum of appreciation.

Nika, not one to pass up an opportunity to mess with them, rolled her eyes from across the room. "Get a room, Romeo and Juliet," she sighed dramatically, clearly fed up with their constant back-and-forth teasing.

Paige and Azzi exchanged a soft look, their gazes filled with the kind of affection that made it clear this wasn’t just playful banter. "We might just take you up on that offer," Paige shot back with a grin, her tone mischievous.

Aubrey, glancing at the clock, interrupted the moment. "Okay, y’all, we’ve got like 30 minutes before we need to head to the beach. Let’s wrap it up, yeah?"

Paige stretched her arms over her head with a yawn, trying to shake off the lingering warmth Azzi’s touch had left on her skin. "Alright, I’mma shower and then we can head out." She grabbed her towel, already picturing the soft sand between her toes and Azzi’s teasing smile in her mind.

The group continued to chat about the evening ahead, but Caroline, noticing Azzi’s distracted expression, slid onto the couch next to her. "Girl, you really down bad," Caroline said with a sly grin, nudging Azzi lightly.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the playful teasing but not backing down. "What do you mean, Car?"

Caroline leaned in close, her voice dropping just enough so the others wouldn’t hear. "Dude, you’re literally wearing black panties under white shorts," she said, shaking her head with a knowing grin. "You’re really out here letting Paige see all that, huh?"

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, but she wasn’t fazed. "So? I just like them," she shrugged casually, but there was that tiny blush creeping up her neck that Caroline definitely noticed.

Caroline let out a soft laugh, leaning back with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. "Okay, sure, girl. Just please, for the love of all things sacred, keep it down tonight, okay? We don’t need to be traumatized by your chemistry," she teased, her eyes lighting up with amusement.

Azzi didn’t respond right away. Instead, she bit her bottom lip, already lost in thoughts of Paige’s hands on her skin, the warmth of her touch. Her mind wandered, a soft smile playing at her lips as she got lost in the daydream.

"Azzi," Caroline said, snapping her out of her daze, her voice playful. "You good?"

Azzi blinked, coming back to the present and meeting Caroline’s eyes with a mischievous glint. "Yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry about me," she said, already plotting her next move.

━ Paige stepped out of the bathroom, her hair still damp, the faint smell of her shower soap lingering in the air. She pulled on a loose white shirt that hugged her body just enough to show off the soft curve of her shoulders, paired with floral shorts that screamed summer vibes. The silver necklace around her neck caught the light as she moved, giving off a subtle shimmer that made her look effortlessly put together. Azzi, who had been leaning against the bed scrolling through her phone, couldn’t help but pause, her eyes tracking Paige’s every movement.

Azzi’s gaze lingered a little too long, tracing the outline of Paige’s body, from the way the shirt clung to her waist to the curve of her thighs. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was staring. Paige caught the look, her lips curling into a smirk.

“You good, ma?” Paige teased, eyebrows arched as she casually plopped down next to Azzi on the bed, making sure their knees brushed just enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch.

Azzi snapped out of her trance, the faintest blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Yeah… yeah, just… you look good,” she said, voice soft but laced with that familiar warmth that always made Paige’s heart do a little flip.

Paige chuckled, her voice playful. “You act like you’ve never seen me before, babe.”

Azzi leaned her head against Paige’s shoulder, her breath slow and content as she sighed. “It’s just… you look different,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, almost reverent. “Like, somehow even more... stunning than usual.”

Paige’s chest swelled with that warm, fluttery feeling she only got when Azzi looked at her like that—like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. “Thanks, ma. I try,” Paige replied, nudging her playfully.

Azzi’s smile widened, but she straightened up, clearing her throat. “Ready to go to the beach?” she asked, trying to shift the mood back to normal. She adjusted her posture, shoulders squaring as she made the effort to focus on something else.

Paige nodded, grinning. “Yeah, let’s go. Sunset’s waiting for us.” ━

As they stood and made their way toward the door, the others were already gathering to head out. Caroline passed by Paige, a sly grin spreading across her face. “You better not fuck this up, P,” Caroline said lightly, though there was a definite warning edge to her tone.

Paige laughed, completely oblivious. “What, like the time I forgot to pack sunscreen?” she shot back, flashing a grin. She waved her hand dismissively, acting like it was nothing. “I got this. No worries.”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully as Caroline walked ahead, but there was a subtle look exchanged between her and Paige that no one else could quite catch.

They were the last two to leave the room, walking down the hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet space. The elevator doors slid open just as they arrived, and Nika, already inside, shot Paige a mock-warning look. “Don’t you dare press any buttons, P,” she said, eyebrow raised, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “We’re not risking another near-death experience.”

The whole group burst out laughing, but Paige—of course—pretended to be offended, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “What? I can’t have a little fun? You guys are no fun.”

She reached for the buttons, fingers hovering over the panel, but Azzi quickly swatted her hand away, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Stop it, Paige,” she muttered, though the smile tugging at the corners of her lips betrayed her.

Paige sighed dramatically, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine,” she said, winking at Nika, who was standing with her arms crossed, eyes still locked on Paige, making sure she didn’t pull any stunts.

The elevator dinged and arrived at the lobby floor. The doors slid open, revealing an older couple waiting to step in. They gave the group a polite, warm smile, and for a split second, Nika couldn’t help herself.

“Wow, that’s the first time an older person hasn’t given me a side-eye,” Nika commented, voice dripping with playful disbelief. The others burst into laughter, the tension in the air lightening instantly.

Paige wrapped her arm around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer, a sense of ease settling over them. Azzi, without thinking, slipped her hand into the back pocket of Paige’s shorts, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. They were practically inseparable, not just physically but in the way their personalities fit so perfectly together.

“Don’t let go, alright?” Paige whispered, lips brushing Azzi’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine. The heat of Paige’s breath against her skin made her heart race. “I’m not leaving you alone for a second tonight.”

Azzi tilted her head back to meet Paige’s gaze, her lips curling into a soft smile. “Promise,” she whispered back, her fingers tightening just a little in the back pocket of Paige’s shorts.

The elevator doors closed with a soft chime, and they headed toward the beach, the air buzzing with their laughter and easy conversation. As they stepped outside, the sun’s warmth still lingered in the air, casting everything in a golden glow. Despite the teasing, the playful banter, and the jokes, there was something undeniable in the way they were together—like they were two pieces of the same puzzle, effortlessly fitting together.

“So,” Nika said, glancing over at the group, “who’s making the first move on the campfire tonight? Because if it’s Paige, we’re probably gonna end up with charcoal instead of a roast.”

Paige grinned mischievously. “I’m excellent with fires. You’ll see.”

But as they walked toward the beach, the sound of the waves in the distance and the excitement of the night ahead, nothing else mattered. Not the teasing, not the jokes. All that mattered was the moment, and the fact that they were together—laughing, teasing, and perfectly in sync. ━ The group finally made it down to the beach, the golden sun spilling over everything, making the sand look like something out of a tropical postcard. The air smelled like salt, sunscreen, and the faint hint of the ocean breeze. The moment they stepped onto the beach, they spotted Aaliyah, already lounging like she owned the place, sunglasses sitting pretty on her nose, and casually eating a mango like it was her full-time job.

"Y'all took forever," Aaliyah said with a dramatic eye-roll, biting into the mango with exaggerated flair. "Could've grown a whole mango tree by now."

Paige, not missing a beat, plopped down next to her with a dramatic sigh. "Why do you look like you just retired in Miami?" she asked, fanning herself.

Aaliyah grinned, unbothered. "I'm manifesting, babe. One day, I’ll be living this life. Just wait."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the beach, Coach was standing there, arms crossed, sunglasses on, looking like he was auditioning for a role in Witness Protection Program: Beach Edition. His whole vibe screamed, "I’m just here to observe and not get involved."

Nika leaned toward Ice, whispering, “Look at him. He really thinks he’s incognito or something.”

The group cracked up as they dropped their bags, laid out towels, kicked off sandals, and adjusted to beach life. Paige and Azzi made their way toward the water, finding a chill spot where the waves gently crashed against the shore. As they sat down, the sand shifted beneath them, and their legs brushed together. It was like the world had slowed down a bit, everything feeling kinda perfect.

Azzi crossed her legs and glanced out at the ocean, her fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes in the sand. Paige leaned back, palms flat on the sand, head tilted up toward the sun, letting it soak into her skin.

Azzi let out a quiet sigh, breaking the peaceful silence. "Lowkey, I feel like I could just stay here forever," she said, her voice soft but carrying that kind of wistful longing.

Paige turned her head, studying her for a second before smirking. “So you’re saying we should just ditch the team and start a new life as beach bums?”

Azzi snorted. “You wouldn’t last a week.”

“Excuse me,” Paige said, placing a hand over her heart. “I would thrive. I’d be that one surfer girl who doesn’t actually surf but wears the aesthetic.”

Azzi rolled her eyes just as—thunk!—a loud thump interrupted them.

“All right, y’all! Who wants some watermelon?” Nika yelled, pulling out a whole watermelon and flopping it onto the towel like it was a WWE smackdown.

Heads turned.

Silence.

Then, chaos.

“Where did you get a whole watermelon?” Ayanna asked, eyebrows raised.

Nika smirked and pulled a kitchen knife out of her duffel bag.

The group recoiled.

“YO—where did you get that?” Caroline demanded, leaning back like Nika was about to perform a magic trick.

"Don't ask questions," Nika said, completely unfazed. "Do you want a piece or not?"

Everyone immediately nodded because watermelon was watermelon, even if it came with mild criminal activity. Nika got to work slicing, while Ice sat beside her, watching with concern.

“This is how we die,” Ice mumbled.

As slices got passed around, Paige leaned back and clapped her hands together. "Alright, so who’s starting the campfire?"

Ice took a thoughtful bite of watermelon, chewed dramatically, then went, “Well, we could blow on it. Y’know, like the people back then did it.”

There was a pause.

A long pause.

Then a collective explosion of laughter.

“You mean cavemen?!” Ayanna wheezed.

“The people back then,” Ice repeated, unfazed. “We gotta embrace the struggle.”

Nika wiped tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe you just said that with a straight face.”

Paige, holding her stomach from laughing, pointed at Ice. “I respect the commitment, though.”

Azzi shook her head, reaching over to steal a piece of Paige’s watermelon. “You are so unserious.”

“I’m full of wisdom,” Ice declared. “Now, watch me create fire from pure vibes.”

As the sun dipped lower, the team sat there, eating stolen watermelon, attempting to start a fire with sheer willpower, and making memories that were going to be brought up for years.

━ Paige let out a deep laugh, shaking her head. “Bro, you cannot be serious.”

Ice shrugged, still holding onto their prehistoric vision. “We had to try.”

“No. We didn’t,” Paige said, standing up and dusting the sand off her shorts. “Y’all keep the caveman dream alive—I’m gonna go get some actual firepower.”

With that, she made her way toward a small beachfront bar, the air filled with the sound of waves and the faint, sultry notes of tango music floating from inside. The place had a cozy, rustic vibe—dim lights, wooden stools, a bartender who looked like he’d seen it all. Paige pulled out her phone and showed him a picture of matches because, let’s be real, she definitely did not know how to say “matches” in Spanish.

The bartender squinted at the screen, then nodded like, Oh, I gotchu. He handed her a small box.

“Gracias, boss,” Paige said, sliding him a fist bump, which he accepted with a look of amused confusion.

She jogged back to the group, shaking the box in her hand. “Guess who just saved us from an actual survival episode?”

The team turned their heads, expressions ranging from disbelief to straight-up awe.

“No way,” Caroline said, eyeing the box like it was an ancient artifact.

“You got them? Just like that?” Nika asked.

Paige smirked. “Some of us have social skills.”

Nika rolled her eyes. “Relax, you asked for matches, not the nuclear codes.”

Ignoring her, Paige struck a match and lit up the campfire, tossing in some dry wood. The flames flickered to life, glowing warm against their faces, crackling softly as they curled around the logs.

Azzi, watching the whole thing unfold, found herself hyper-focused—not on the fire, but on Paige. The way her muscles subtly flexed when she handled the wood, the effortless way she moved, the casual confidence in her stance.

Paige sat back down next to her, looking satisfied with herself. “There. No cave tactics required.”

Azzi, without thinking, leaned into her, resting her head against Paige’s chest. Paige blinked for a second, caught off guard, then wrapped an arm around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, streaking the sky in deep oranges and purples, the team fell into conversation—one of those effortless, talk-about-everything-and-nothing at the same time types. The warmth of the fire, the salty ocean breeze, the laughter—it all felt unreal, like something out of a coming-of-age movie.

Azzi, half-mumbling, half-laughing, brought up the moment.

“Remember that night when we, um…” She hesitated, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Met that stray cat?”

A split second of silence. Then—

“NAH. NO. NO WAY.” Nika practically lunged forward, eyes wide with scandal.

Paige sighed dramatically. “Azzi, I trusted you.”

Azzi was grinning. “I had to tell them.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Caroline gasped, barely breathing from laughing. “A cat? DURING?”

Paige groaned. “Why does this sound like I was in some Disney princess fever dream?”

“That’s actually insane,” Ayanna said, shaking her head. “Y’all were like, mid-love story, and a random cat just appeared?”

“I swear on everything, it was watching us,” Azzi added. “Like, deadass just sitting there, judging.”

“I mean,” Nika said, wiping tears from laughing, “cats do be haters.”

They were still recovering from the story when Nika, in a completely unrelated move, pulled out a Sharpie from somewhere.

The team should have been suspicious.

Instead, they were distracted—because Aubrey had passed out mid-convo, lying back on her towel, completely knocked out from the long day.

And Nika? Oh, Nika saw an opportunity.

Moving like a seasoned criminal, she leaned in and—

One stroke.

Two strokes.

A full mustache now lived on Aubrey’s upper lip.

When she stirred slightly, Nika froze mid-doodle like a cartoon character caught in the act.

Then Aubrey turned her head, still asleep.

Everyone lost it.

Paige was rolling on the sand, clutching her stomach. Ice had to walk away to avoid choking on laughter. Caroline had actual tears in her eyes.

Aubrey, still peacefully snoozing, had no idea she was now the proud owner of a villainous, curly mustache.

“I—” Azzi gasped between wheezes. “I can’t breathe.”

Nika wiped imaginary dust off her hands. “Hang it in the Louvre”

And that was how the night went—chaos, laughter, inside jokes that would last forever. ━

As the night rolled on, the realization hit them all at once—

“Wait.” Ice sat up suddenly, eyes wide. “Weren’t we supposed to, like… grill something?”

A long pause. A collective brain lag.

“Oh shit.” Paige smacked her forehead. “The fish.”

Instant chaos.

Phones were pulled out, Google searches were launched. Nika typed in how to say fish in Spanish like she was hacking into the Matrix.

“Alright, alright,” she read aloud. “It’s pez.”

“Pez,” Paige repeated, testing it out. “Pez. Pez. Pez.”

“You sound like a broken record,” Azzi deadpanned.

“Pez,” Paige said one more time just to be annoying.

Aaliyah, still lounging like she was the queen of this whole operation, waved lazily at Paige. “Yo, while you’re at it, I can’t eat fish. Can you, like, grab me some vegetables or something?”

Paige squinted. “Vegetables?”

“Yeah. Y’know. Green stuff?”

“...Damn, you want me to just start foraging?”

“Love ya, thanks, bye,” Aaliyah said sweetly, rolling onto her side like she had no worries.

Paige shook her head but got up anyway, dusting off her shorts. “Alright. Operation Pez and Plants. I got this.”

She strutted back to the bar, confidence at an all-time high.

The moment she reached the counter, she leaned in, cool as hell. “Hey. We ordered pez. Is the pez waiting for us?”

The staff just… stared.

Like she had just asked them if they were in possession of a mythical sea creature.

One of them raised an eyebrow. “...Pez?”

“Sí,” Paige nodded, feeling very authentic. “The pez.”

A beat of silence. Then one of the waiters slowly pointed at a tray sitting on a nearby table.

“Oh, sick.” Paige grabbed it, feeling victorious. Before she turned away, she hesitated. “Hey, uh… y’all got, like… a tomato or something?”

The waiter exchanged a glance with his coworker, then reached under the counter and handed her a whole-ass tomato.

Paige blinked. “Damn. Just like that?”

The guy shrugged. “Sí.”

“Alright then. Love the energy.” Paige gave them a salute and turned—only to see Azzi already standing there, hands tucked behind her back, watching with amusement.

“You good?” Azzi asked, smirking.

“Oh, thriving,” Paige said, handing her the tray. “Got the pez. Got the tomato. Livin’ the dream.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but took the tray from her, and together, they started heading back.

As they walked, Paige’s eyes naturally drifted downward—just for a split second.

And that’s when she noticed it.

Azzi’s black panties, barely peeking above the waistband of her shorts.

Oh.

Paige immediately bit back a grin, her brain short-circuiting for a good two seconds.

She let out a small laugh to herself.

Azzi, side-eyeing her, caught it. “What’s so funny?”

Paige, still grinning like an idiot, shrugged. “Nothing. Just enjoying this day.” She nodded toward the beach, the bonfire, their teammates acting like absolute fools. “With you. And those idiots.”

Azzi stared at her for a moment, then softened. Without thinking too much about it, she leaned in and kissed Paige’s cheek.

Paige—who had not been expecting that—froze for half a second before her grin turned even dumber.

By the time they made it back to the group, they set the trays down, and everyone crowded around, looking at the fish like it was an unsolved mystery.

“So, uh…” Nika rubbed her hands together. “How do we start?”

A deep silence fell over the group.

Ice poked at the fish with a stick. “Do we, like… season it?”

Paige clapped a hand on Ice’s shoulder. “Buddy. That is an excellent question.”

Ice clapped her hands together like she was about to deliver a TED Talk. “Alright, listen up, children. I watched a tutorial, so I know exactly how to do this.”

The group side-eyed her so hard.

“Okay, but, like… from where?” Ayanna asked suspiciously. “Was it an actual cooking channel, or did you just watch some dude in his backyard with an iPhone 6?”

Ice crossed her arms. “It was Gordon Ramsay, first of all—”

“Cap,” Nika interrupted. “Gordon Ramsay is not out here teaching people how to grill fish over a bonfire.”

“Okay, fine, it was some random uncle on YouTube, but that’s besides the point.” Ice huffed. “Just trust the process.”

Surprisingly, the process actually worked.

They seasoned the fish, tossed the vegetables on the grill, and within minutes, the warm air filled with the mouthwatering smell of grilled food—spices blending together, the slight charred crisp of the fish skin, the sweetness of caramelizing onions.

“Yo… we might actually be onto something,” Paige admitted, leaning back with a proud nod.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nika waved her off. “Anyway, hear me out—” She held up a slice of watermelon. “What if we grill this?”

Immediate uproar.

“Bro, no.”

“Why would you even say that?”

“We are not about to grill watermelon like it’s a damn steak.”

Nika threw up her hands. “Okay, damn, y’all are acting like I committed a crime.”

“You did.” Azzi deadpanned.

“Okay, but—” Nika was really about to start defending it when Aubrey, who had been completely silent this whole time, suddenly woke up from her nap, looked around, and mumbled, “Grilled watermelon actually kinda slaps.”

Everyone turned to her like she had just admitted to tax fraud.

“See?!” Nika pointed triumphantly. “I knew I wasn’t crazy.”

“No, no,” Paige shook her head. “She’s delirious. She just woke up, you can’t trust anything she says right now.”

Aubrey blinked. “Huh?”

“Exactly,” Paige said.

Nika sighed dramatically and flopped back onto her towel. “Y’all are not visionaries.”

Meanwhile, the fish was cooking perfectly, the veggies were slightly charred but still fresh, and everything was falling into place.

As the team sat around the fire, breathing in the smell of their hard-earned meal, there was a quiet moment of satisfaction—like, damn. ━

As the last bits of food disappeared and everyone settled into their post-meal habits, the beach vibes were immaculate.

Nika was down by the shore, feet in the water like she was filming a perfume commercial. Ice was completely knocked out, starfished on her towel. Aaliyah had her nose buried in a book like they weren’t on a team vacation, and Aubrey—well, she was still very much asleep, mustache and all.

Azzi and Paige, meanwhile, were in their own little world. Azzi sat comfortably in Paige’s lap, her arms draped lazily around Paige’s shoulders while Paige held onto her waist to make sure she didn’t tumble backward like a Jenga piece.

Paige leaned in slightly. “You tryna get some ice cream?”

Azzi perked up. “Oh, bet.”

“I heard they got Olaf-themed ones.”

Azzi’s eyes lit up like she just heard breaking news. “Wait, really?!”

Paige let out a snort. “Nah, I’m playin’.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “That’s not funny.”

“It was a little funny.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Azzi just huffed dramatically and got up. Paige grinned, standing with her. “C’mon, let’s go. They’re all knocked out, and Nika is… well, Nika.”

They wandered over to a small street vendor selling popsicles. Paige grabbed an orange one, while Azzi picked out a strawberry. But—because Paige knew Azzi—she also got her an apple-flavored one, just in case.

“Why’d you get two?” Azzi raised a brow.

Paige shrugged. “’Cause I know you. You’re gonna take, like, three licks of that strawberry one and suddenly decide apple is superior.”

Azzi scoffed but didn’t deny it.

As they made their way back, Ice had somehow woken up, groggy but immediately clocking the popsicles.

“Yo, lemme get a bite.”

Paige held out her orange one. “Go for it.”

Ice took one bite, then made the most disgusted face. “Eugh.”

Paige stared at her. “Really?”

Ice shrugged. “Tasted too orange.”

“It’s literally an orange popsicle, what did you—never mind.” Paige waved her off.

Ice stood up, dusting the sand off her legs. “Yeah, I’m gonna head back. I don’t want the shower line to be insane later.” She grabbed her bag, then pointed at Aubrey’s diabolical-sleeping form. “Tell Nika she stole my socks.”

Paige saluted. “Aye aye, captain.”

Azzi smirked. “You think Aubrey’s ever gonna wake up?”

Paige looked at her, then at Aubrey, still blissfully unaware of the fake mustache on her face.

“Honestly? I hope not.”

Azzi stretched before nudging Aubrey’s arm. “Yo, Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up.”

Aubrey groaned dramatically, like she had just been asked to run suicides in practice. She blinked a few times, then checked her phone, squinting at the screen like it had personally offended her. With a slow nod, she dragged herself up to her feet.

Meanwhile, Nika was making her way back toward them, looking way too energized for someone who had just spent half the night causing chaos. “Damn, we leaving already?” she pouted. “It was just starting to get interesting.”

The entire group just stared at her.

Nika cracked a grin. “Okay, okay, I’m fucking with y’all.”

Aaliyah, already packed and fully in responsible adult mode, waved at them. “Y’all are slow, I’m going back,” she called before heading toward the hotel.

Aubrey looked around. “Wait… where are my sunglasses?”

Cue Paige, sitting there with zero remorse, spinning Aubrey’s sunglasses between her fingers.

Aubrey frowned. “Dude.”

Paige smirked and handed them back. “My bad, my bad. You just make it too easy.”

Aubrey sighed but took them. Then Paige, for no reason, burst out laughing.

Aubrey blinked. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Paige wheezed.

Azzi shook her head, biting her lip to keep from laughing too.

Aubrey was so damn clueless about the fact that Nika’s Sharpie masterpiece was still living rent-free on her face.

Aubrey just shrugged. “Y’all are weird. Goodnight.” She waved and headed to the hotel, sunglasses crooked as hell on her face.

Nika clapped her hands together and started rambling in Croatian—something about finally finding whatever the hell she had been looking for all night. Paige and Azzi just stood there, nodding along, completely desensitized to the chaos at this point.

Finally, Nika grinned, slung an arm around both of them, and squeezed. “Alright, goodnight, you losers.”

Paige smirked. “Love you too, twin.”

Azzi shook her head, but she was smiling. “Goodnight, Nika.”

━ They sit there for a while, the night air warm but crisp, the distant chatter from the bar blending with the sound of waves. Azzi’s head rests against Paige’s shoulder, her body warm against her. Paige absentmindedly twirls the popsicle stick between her fingers, and just as she’s about to make some dumb joke about it being a weapon of mass destruction, Azzi turns to look at her.

Without warning, Azzi shoves Paige onto the sand.

Paige blinks up at her, eyebrows shooting up. “Bro, what was that for?”

Azzi smirks, straddling her waist. “For this.”

And before Paige can even process that, Azzi leans down and starts pressing soft, deliberate kisses along her neck, her collarbone, the sharp line of her jaw—each one slow and warm, leaving a trail of heat behind. Paige’s breath hitches when Azzi’s lips brush lower, just barely over her chest before she stops.

Azzi stays there, hands resting lightly against Paige’s chest, her fingers spreading out like she’s grounding herself. Paige is just staring at her, her blue eyes so stupidly soft, even in the dim light. She looks so calm, so completely at peace, and Azzi takes a second to just admire her.

Then, faintly in the background, music starts drifting over from the bar.

“Do I Wanna Know”—except it’s Hozier’s cover, the one that somehow sounds even more like a love confession than the original.

Paige grins. “Hey, Az.”

Azzi hums, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric of Paige’s shirt.

Paige tilts her head toward the bar. “Our song is on.”

Azzi blinks. “Our song?”

Paige smirks. “Yeah, duh. You know, the one we slow danced to in the kitchen that one time before you almost burned the dorms down.”

Azzi rolls her eyes. “You told me to turn up the heat—”

“Not literally, babe.” Paige’s grin softens, and she gives Azzi a knowing look.

Azzi’s about to ask how Paige even managed to pull this off when it clicks. She narrows her eyes. “Paige.”

Paige shrugs, looking way too pleased with herself. “I called in a favor.”

Azzi just stares at her before shaking her head, a slow smile spreading across her lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige just grins harder. “You love it.”

Azzi doesn’t even argue—just leans down, cups Paige’s face, and kisses her.

Paige’s hands rest on Azzi’s waist, her thumbs absentmindedly brushing over the fabric of her shorts. The ocean breeze is warm, and the soft hum of the bar’s music lingers in the air. Azzi’s lips are still curled into that stupid, lovesick smile, and Paige swears it’s her new favorite thing.

“I love your smile,” Paige murmurs, tilting her head as she watches Azzi like she’s the only thing that matters.

Azzi grins, pressing her forehead against Paige’s. “I love your smile.”

Paige smirks. “I love your eyes.”

Azzi’s nose scrunches up. “I love your eyes.”

Paige raises an eyebrow. “I love your silly little mind.”

Azzi laughs, poking Paige’s cheek. “I love your silly little mind.”

Paige leans in slightly, voice dropping playfully. “I miss shots all the time.”

Azzi gasps, pulling back dramatically. “Do you really?”

Paige bursts out laughing, her grip tightening around Azzi’s waist. “No, babe, I’m a bucket.” And before Azzi can roll her eyes, Paige closes the gap, kissing her slow and easy, like she has all the time in the world.

They stay like that for a few moments—Azzi’s fingers curling into Paige’s hoodie, Paige’s hands firm on Azzi’s waist—until Paige pulls back just enough to murmur, “Alright, we gotta sleep.”

Azzi groans, resting her forehead against Paige’s chest. “Ugh, why? We could just stay here forever. Be beach people. Collect shells. Live off coconuts.”

Paige snorts. “Babe, we’d last maybe two days before you start missing your hair products and I start complaining about sand in places sand should not be.”

Azzi sighs dramatically. “Fine.” Then she tugs at Paige’s hand, pulling her up.

As they start walking back, Azzi glances at the still-glowing campfire and nudges Paige. “Uh, shouldn’t we put that out?”

Paige glances over her shoulder. “I mean… I don’t think sand can catch on fire?”

Azzi blinks. “If we end up on the news tomorrow, this is on you.”

Paige grins. “As long as they get my good side in the mugshot.”

Azzi shakes her head, laughing as she laces their fingers together. They walk back to the hotel, the cool sand between their toes, the sound of waves crashing in the distance. The night air is thick with the scent of salt and smoke, and Paige swears she’s never felt more at home.

━ As they step into the elevator, the air is thick with exhaustion, but it’s the good kind—the type that makes their limbs heavy but their hearts full. The doors close with a soft chime, and the quiet settles in. Not awkward, not tense. Just theirs. Paige leans back against the elevator wall, running a hand through her hair as Azzi leans into her side, resting her head against Paige’s shoulder. Neither of them says anything, and they don’t need to.

When the elevator dings, they step into the hallway, their footsteps light against the plush carpet. Paige fumbles with the keycard, nearly swiping it upside down. Azzi watches with an amused smirk.

"You got it, genius?"

"Shut up," Paige mutters, finally unlocking the door.

Inside, chaos. The room is dimly lit, but even in the soft glow of the nightstand lamp, it’s clear that their friends are in shambles.

Nika is sprawled out on one of the beds, phone still clutched in her hand, snoring loud enough to shake the walls. Aubrey is half on the couch, one leg dangling off like she lost a battle with gravity mid-sleep. Aaliyah is the only one who actually looks peaceful, wrapped up like a burrito, sleeping as if she’s in a coma.

Paige nudges Azzi and whispers, “Yo, why does Aaliyah look like she’s getting the best sleep of her life while Nika sounds like she’s inhaling a whole thunderstorm?”

Azzi stifles a laugh. “And why is Aubrey built like one of those ragdoll physics glitches in a video game?”

They exchange a look before shaking their heads, quietly closing the door behind them, careful not to wake the wreckage of their friend group.

Bathroom time.

They move in sync, like a routine they’ve done a hundred times before. Paige grabs her toothbrush, Azzi grabs hers, and they start brushing in front of the mirror. The bathroom light is soft, casting a warm glow over their faces, both a little sun-kissed from the day.

Azzi finishes first, rinses her mouth, and then reaches for the soap on the counter. And of course, in a move so obvious it’s almost criminal, she pushes her ass—her azzi—back against Paige’s hip in a way that is definitely not accidental.

Paige chokes on her toothpaste.

"Are you trying to kill me, woman?" Paige splutters, nearly dropping her toothbrush into the sink.

Azzi hums innocently, doesn’t say a word. She just lifts her arms and, with the slowest, most deliberate movements, starts undoing the knot on her crop-top.

Paige freezes. Oh. Oh, we’re doing this tonight?

Azzi lets the fabric slip off her shoulders, down her arms, before it pools at her feet, leaving her in just her underwear—the black ones, the ones Paige has definitely noticed before—and a delicate bra with lace detailing.

Paige is going through it.

Her brain short-circuits, her mouth suddenly dry despite the fact that she just brushed her teeth. She gulps, gripping the counter like it might anchor her back to reality.

Azzi bites her lip, tilts her head, and finally looks at Paige. “You good?”

Paige nods way too fast. “Mhm. Yep. Totally fine.”

Azzi smirks, stepping closer. “Those shorts look good on you,” she says, low and teasing, like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

Paige manages a crooked grin, still gripping the counter for dear life.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, she thanks their coach for telling her that these shorts have some kind of effect on women.

Because damn.

━ Paige tugs on a plain white t-shirt, the fabric soft and a little oversized, hanging loose over her frame. She pulls on a pair of worn-in sweatpants, the kind that have survived countless practices and late-night hangouts, then runs a hand through her messy bun before rinsing her face. The cold water jolts her slightly, a small reset after the heat of the day (and, well, Azzi).

When she steps out of the bathroom, Azzi is already curled up in bed, the sheets half-draped over her body, her hair splayed across the pillow like some kind of art. Paige slips under the covers without hesitation, shifting closer until she can press her lips to the soft skin of Azzi’s back.

One.

Then another, lower this time.

And another.

Her fingers trace absentminded patterns along Azzi’s thigh, but before she can get too far, Azzi lets out a breathy laugh and grabs Paige’s wandering hand.

"Baby, we really can’t. They’re literally a foot away from us."

Paige exhales dramatically, resting her forehead against Azzi’s shoulder. "Okay, okay, but hear me out—what if I put tape over your mouth?"

Azzi turns her head so fast, giving Paige the most are you serious look of all time.

"You're actually insane," she mutters before leaning in to kiss her, slow and deliberate, making sure Paige really understands that the answer is no.

Paige sighs, but she’s smiling, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s waist and pulling her closer. She lets her fingers graze Azzi’s ribs just to be annoying.

Azzi yelps, swatting Paige’s hand away. "Stoppp."

Paige holds up her hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. No funny business. Just sleep."

Azzi eyes her skeptically, but Paige just nudges her. "Turn around."

Azzi does, rolling so they’re face-to-face, inches apart in the dim light.

"Goodnight, Az," Paige murmurs.

Azzi hums. "Goodnight, Paigey."

A beat of quiet. Then, softer: "I love you. So much."

Paige grins. "I love you more."

Azzi groans. "Stop."

Paige laughs but doesn’t push it. Instead, she just pulls Azzi in closer, feeling the way Azzi naturally fits against her, how easily she curls into Paige’s chest, like it’s home.

As Azzi's breaths grow slower, Paige carefully reaches for her phone. She types out a quick text to Azzi’s parents:

Paige: we’re going to sleep now, love you guys

She sets her phone down, glancing at Azzi, taking in the peaceful rise and fall of her shoulders.

"Goodnight, beautiful," she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s forehead.

As she turns off the lamp, the room settles into stillness, filled with warmth, love, and the quiet comfort of knowing they’re exactly where they’re supposed to be.

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