Forced / Arranged Marriage Trope
Diluc, Ayato, Pierro, Zhongli x Reader
A/N: this took me ages to write (cough cough ayato) and even longer to edit but i dont care i love this trope... i hope you like it too </3 i love mean m3n! the whole ‘oh i dont think he loves me but he actually does’ is so fun.... so fun
fem!reader bc I like the use of ‘wife’
WC - 3.3k
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Diluc R.
“Where is my wife?”
The echo of Diluc’s demanding tone as he enters the Winery almost makes Adelinde flinch. From all her years of caring for the young owner, she knows too well what a sensitive spot you are for the man. The head maid tends to keep a watchful eye on you both out of the kindness in her own heart even when you and Diluc are in somewhat of a quarrel.
“In your study,” Adelinde doesn’t look at Diluc as she continues to dust a lamp, she works diligently but keeps her ears sharp all the same. Nothing ever slips out from under her nose.
A gentle smile appears on her lips as Diluc passes her and heads straight for the large doors of his office.
“Where were you?” Diluc’s anger is something you’ve come accustomed to lately. Over the course of your relationship from mere acquaintances to forced husband and wife, you’ve never noticed how well you manage to step on his toes.
“Where was I?” You repeat while continuing to flip through one of the romance novels Jean recommended to you. Your husband came in at such an awful time, right in the middle of a scene full of tension and declarations of love. A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you close the book in hopes of picking it up again later.
“We have an arrangement at six o’clock in front of the gates every day,” Diluc does little to hide his frustrations, that much is clear to you as you finally run your eyes over his tensed form. He stands tall in front of you on the opposite side of the desk, his large arms flexed from where they’re crossed over his broad chest. “have you forgotten?”
No, you have not.
Today of all days, you wanted to have a few extra minutes to yourself so you left work early and practically ran home. It’s not that you didn’t want your husband to accompany you like he does most days but, you really wanted to finish your new novel in peace. You never imagined that Diluc would care this much about your absence.
“It appears to have slipped my mind,” You try to give him a kind smile, an innocent gesture but Diluc knows you too well. He sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease the headache that is forming.
“I thought something had happened to you,” His outburst surprises you but, you don’t let it show on your face. Diluc’s protectiveness is something you’ve always been aware of yet it manages to catch you off guard every time. As time goes on, you think you’ll start to become more accustomed to it. “you know of the dangers that lurk out there.”
“I am capable enough to make it home by myself, Master Diluc,” You reach for your book again but Diluc is quick to clasp his hand over your own, he pins your wrist down against his wooden desk and tries to keep the anger in his eyes leveled with his fiery hair.
“I told you not to call me that,” There’s a slight defeat in his voice, one that almost makes you feel guilty for teasing him. He hates it. The name makes him sound like a stranger to you, it makes him think that you don’t see him in the same light. Diluc always hoped that you would return a mere flicker of affection in the candle that is his love for you. However, he doesn’t like to fool himself. “do not leave me waiting tomorrow. I will pick you up at six o’clock.”
“Alright,” You sigh and gently place your chin on your palm, elbow resting against his large desk. Diluc looks you over with hard eyes as if he is mentally contemplating his next move. You expected him to head straight for the door and leave, to start the same nightly tasks he always runs off to when he drops you off at home. He doesn’t.
Instead, the winery owner takes a step closer to you and grits his teeth. He bends down with little hesitation and places a harsh kiss on your cheekbone before leaving the study with a soft click of the door. His affection catches you off guard, causing your heart to thump in your chest.
Every day he wins your heart over a little more.
By the time Adelinde pokes her head in a few minutes later, you’re still not sure if you have wiped the surprise off of your face. The head maid gives you a gentle smile as she pretends to dust a book, offering a piece of advice and a grim reminder.
“Lady (Y/N), please try to understand where he is coming from. If something were to happen to you, Master Diluc would lose his family all over again.”
K. Ayato
“Your marriage cannot fail.”
There were many rules and guidelines set for you and the Yashiro Commissioner on the premise of your alliance. Above all, you were sworn to protect the name of the Tri-Commission. The two of you are to maintain the facade of a happy marriage in the face of the Narukami population and the entirety of Inazuma.
The rule itself is very simple but, places an uncomfortable weight on your shoulders. You fear that you’ll one day be crushed by the severity of the situation.
At least, your husband tries his best with you.
“Are you retiring for the evening, dear?” In passing, Ayato stops you as he heads for his office. He offers you a kind smile and a delicate brush of his fingertips against your elbow. You nearly shiver at the contact over the material of your clothes.
“I am. Will you be joining me?” Eight months of being married to him and you have learned not to expect anything. It prevents the bitter heartache that forms every time his face slightly drops and his ounce of affection for you reverts back into professionalism.
“Forgive me but, I will not. I need to finish reviewing a proposal from the Kanjou Commission.” His hand leaves your arm and falls pitifully back to his side. It’s as if the mere thought of being a husband closes him off to you.
“I see.” You know how he despises small talk and would just rather get to the point so you ultimately end the interaction for him. There is no fight coming from your side, no fit that is thrown, you simply continue on with your life.
“Good night.” As Ayato leans down and gently kisses your cheek, he firmly holds onto your bicep with a soft squeeze. It’s a flash of love that leaves your cheeks warm and your heart fluttering as he excuses himself and makes his way toward his office.
No matter how much you want to believe in him, you can’t help but think that everything is all for show.
Sleep doesn’t come easy for you that night, it never does when you’re set to spend it alone. The utter silence of the bedroom causes your boredom to hit an all-time high as you stupidly decide to seek out your husband.
Hours ago you were mentally cursing his existence while simultaneously bathing in his affections and now, you’re reaching out for him again.
Do you want him or not? Do you love him or hate him?
You really don’t know.
“Wife, you’re still awake.” It takes Ayato a few moments to greet you after you enter his office. The quiet noise of his door sliding shut pulls him away from his work for the briefest moment as his blue eyes glance over your body. Ultimately, he looks back down at his paper and then attempts to organize his thoughts and desk by neatly stacking the scrolls. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”
Ayato holds his hand out to you and you hesitantly place your fingers against his own. He takes the inch you give him and turns it into a mile as he tugs you toward him.
You kneel beside him now and through the force of his pull, you begin to lean against his shoulder. Under his touch, you become stiff and it causes your husband to laugh.
Your head starts to hurt at trying to read him.
“You confuse me,” You whisper as Ayato cups your cheek, despite how you keep your eyes glued to his table, he has no problem selfishly forcing you to look at him.
“I confuse you?” He repeats and slightly tilts his head while looking you over, like this his face is inches away from yours. “How can I possibly make myself clear to you?” His quiet murmurs don’t distract you from the way he’s lowering his face. You stop him before he can get any closer.
“That is what I mean, if you touch me so easily I will misunderstand your feelings.” You attempt to move from the tight grip he has on you but, you can’t get free. “Don’t kiss me if you don’t love me.”
Ayato merely hums and loosens his grip on your shoulder. At the chance to put some much-needed space between the two of you, you ultimately fall back against the floor. Your husband follows quickly and once again latches onto you as he places his arms on either side of your head.
His soft lips hover over your ear, brushing along your cheek before he places a soft peck on your jaw.
“I kiss you,” He watches your every move as his hand cups your cheek. The slight of you nervously squirming does more to him than he cares to admit. “because I love you.”
Pierro
“Enough with the unnecessary dramatics.” Scolding you is something of second nature to the first of the eleven Fatui harbingers. He picks you apart and molds you into the perfect shape until that shape no longer holds any value to him. When he finds a flaw, Pierro starts all over again. “Crafting when there is work to be done, have you no shame?”
For as cruel as he acts, your husband is utterly obsessed with you.
He glares down at you, and at the ceramic flower pot you poured your heart and soul into creating for him, with hostility in his eyes. Your caring hands shaped a perfectly sized holder, one in perfect condition and your husband will be sure to put it on display within his office. It will be perfect on his desk and when he misses your companionship, he will be sure to look at it and remember the fondness he holds for you.
Even if you hate him all the same.
“What work do you expect a lonely housewife to be doing?” The fire in your eyes rivals the flames that once burned his nation to the ground. Despite the fight in your soul, Pierro will have no trouble shaping you back into order. You grit your teeth at him, nearly barring your anger and the harbinger finally puts his paperwork down to look at you.
You’ll never understand him and he’ll never understand you.
All this started because you wanted to give him a stupid gift that you now deeply regret. You thought that if an ounce of kindness could touch his heart then maybe he would show a drop of affection, a mere plop of something that isn’t disappointment towards you.
“I expect you to keep this house in order.” His voice is hard, set in stone, as he shifts his shoulders back to sit up even straighter in his head chair. “You can’t possibly be doing that when you are distracted by irrelevant tasks.”
“You are a stupid old man,” Your glare is fierce as you curse him and mentally curse the Tsaritsa for setting your fate. This is a loveless marriage, a misalliance. How could she have done this to you?
Pierro’s eyes narrow towards you as he waits for you to finish your tantrum, it ends with a loud slam of his office door. You have, no doubt, retreated to the room you call your ‘own’ despite being forced to share a room with him. The man would lock your door if he could, to keep you out of your room and instead by his side. But, above everything, your husband does deeply care about you and tries to respect your space.
His affection has since grown for you after he met you, months before he lifted the veil off of your face during your marriage ceremony. Only the Tsaritsa could have blessed him with such a gift, a treasure that he will be sure to spoil until the end of his days.
No matter how strongly you fight him, how much you resist, his love will never dull. If only his feelings were strong enough to get through to you.
Later in the evening, Pierro finds you again. He discovers you curled up under your blankets, a pillow hugged to your chest and another pressed against your back. He has no issue ripping the pillow away from you as if the offending piece of furniture was daring to hide you from him. There’s little struggle in the way he picks you up in his arms, scooping his large forearms under your thighs and back to hold you against his chest.
He doesn’t blink as he walks past stationed Fatui subordinates to your shared bedroom, he doesn’t even flinch when you jolt awake and then sulk in his arms. Without a fight, you let him place you on the right side of the bed before he heads toward the door and locks it.
While Pierro gets rid of his daily attire, you choose to glare at the duvet. Your frustrations don’t last long when you catch onto his armor now painting the floor. The sensual drop of each article catches your attention quickly and you don’t hide the way you stare. Anger be damned, you want him.
Your husband has to pretend not to notice your lustful gaze. Somewhere in his chest, his pride surges at the way your eyes run over his tanned skin. He teases you and takes his time with finding his spare clothes for sleep.
But before the harbinger can even think about getting into bed, you’re already behind him and wrapping your arms around his thick waist. You don’t shy away from your affections as you press your face into his muscular back and dip your hands down towards the front of his pants.
It’s as if the beloved and feared Tsaritsa knew exactly what she was doing when she paired the two of you together. Through love and hate, she made the perfect match.
Zhongli
“Please get those glaze lilies out of my sight.” The beautiful flower, delicate and pure, reminds you of all the things you are not. You can’t stand to see them paraded in a vase, decorated by your husband as he tends to the flowers more than he has ever tended to you.
Zhongli freezes at the harsh tone coming from your lips, he turns to you slowly with confusion etched into his features. His hand which was once gently holding onto the petal of the flower falls to his side.
“I don’t understand.” Although he tries to read you and figure out where you are coming from, he simply can’t.
“I am tired of those flowers and I hate looking at them.” Resentment pours out of you in buckets, years and years of self-hatred boils over at the mere glance of a petal. You accepted that you would be stuck in a loveless marriage the second the Adepti arranged this misalliance. In their eyes, and all the eyes of the archons, you are nothing more than a tool. Almighty Morax needs to produce offspring, who better to satisfy him than a healthy human?
But, much to your relief (and despair), you’ve never once spent the night with the man yet. Not in all seven years of your marriage have either of you gotten as close as a kiss. There must be another in his heart, someone he cares for but could never have, you’re sure of it.
From the beginning, you accepted that he would never love you or cherish you the way you secretly wish that he would but, that doesn’t mean you can stand to watch how he fawns over fucking glaze lilies.
“Where is this hostility coming from?” Zhongli rises from the floor, from where he was on his knees tending to his beloved bouquet. Anger courses through your veins and causes the tips of your fingers to shake. How could you ever explain it to him?
“Are you married to those flowers?” Your question makes the archon tilt his head before he glances back at the large vase.
“I am not.”
“Then why do you touch them more than you touch me?” Through your frustrations, you missed the slight widening of your husband’s eyes. For a mere second, he finally got through to you. “You love those flowers more than you love me!”
If you’re getting this upset because of him, feeling jealousy and envy to the point that it nearly swallows you whole because of him-
“Does this mean that you have feelings for me?” Zhongli calmly looks you over but, he is anything but calm on the inside. Nothing about him right now is rational as he mentally fights back the primal need to have you. He has adored you since the second he laid eyes on you, not that you would ever notice.
You look absolutely revolted by his question and you try to swat it away with the back of your hand.
“What?” Nothing about you is prepared for this situation or the way Morax is closing in on you. For each step that your husband takes, you take a step away from him until your back hits the window built into your wall. Zhongli towers over you and braces some of his weight on his hands placed on either side of your head.
“Do you love me, wife?” He shifts his head forward, tilting his face down so that his hair covers his eyes. You hold your breath. His sharp nose runs along your jaw before guiding your head to tilt back. “Do you acknowledge me as your husband, finally?”
You place your hands flat on his chest to try and push him away but try as you might, Morax does not budge.
“W-Why would I love you? You don’t even love me?” Your scoff and lies do little to hide how fast your heart is racing, to hide the flustered state you are in.
“I don’t love you?” He murmurs before his fingers come up to cup your jaw. “You were the one who picked those flowers for our wedding, it is through my love and my love alone that they’ve been preserved for so long.”
“Your love for another.” You confirm with hard eyes and the sight, along with your answer, makes Zhongli click his jaw. He tightly presses his lips together before letting out a quiet and defeated sigh.
“My love for you.” At long last, the truth is out. The secret Zhongli has cultivated and tended to for years is revealed because of your childish outburst. “Don’t you understand?”
You can’t form any words back as all you do is gape at him like a fish out of water. Zhongli takes the matter into his hands furthermore. His fingers tilt your chin up and force you to look up at him. There’s nothing but pure adoration in his bright eyes.
“If I may, allow me to show you, dear wife.”
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Long Night
Pairings - Roommate!tfatws!Bucky x Fem!Roommate!Reader
Summary - You've been stood up twice in a row now. Bucky is tired of seeing you disappointed. So he takes you on a date.
Warnings - angst, being stood up, angry/annoyed bucky
Notes - I'm horrible at summaries, I know!! This happened to me a couple days ago, wishing I had a Bucky to take me on a date in Brooklyn right about now! Not proofread so lmk if there are any mistakes! Thank you for reading loves!!
WC - 1,750
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"Whatcha gettin' ready for, doll?" Bucky leaned on your bedroom doorframe, watching you straighten your hair in the mirror on top of your dresser.
"I have a date." You smiled, not noticing the slight drop in Bucky's smile.
"Oh, with anyone I know?"
You shook your head. "His name's Nash. Someone Sam set me up with," You explained. "He's supposed to pick me up in twenty minutes."
Bucky internally rolled his eyes. The guys Sam hung around with were nice, yes. However, he never got the guts to take you out on the date you deserved. A date with him.
"Are you sure you want him picking you up?" Bucky asked, making you look back in confusion. "I mean you don't know him that well... You could meet him there or uh, I'll drop you off."
You let out a small laugh, "Yeah Buck, I'll just have my male roommate drop me off at a date, that'll go over well."
Bucky shrugged. He walked away from your bedroom to grab a beer from the fridge before sitting on the couch. He turned on whatever channel didn't require him to use the remote too much before slouching into the cushions.
Twenty minutes passed by when you slipped out of your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
"Wow, doll. You.." Bucky's eyes widened slightly, "You look great."
You grinned, looking down at your outfit. It was basic but it was the most comfortable yet fashionable outfit you had. Black flared leggings with a sage green sweater and some white sneakers. It was simple yet appropriate for a late-night-diner date.
And to top it all off your makeup had cooperated for once. Both eyebrows looked like twins and not sisters. Your highlight was perfect, shimmering, but not too much. And you had the perfect lipgloss that made your lips look sunkissed. Perfect.
"He should be here any minute!" You sprayed some perfume, your favorite vanilla scent, and went to sit in the armchair across from the couch.
Bucky hummed, keeping his eyes on the Tv, taking another sip of beer.
However, twenty more minutes went by and Nash hadn't texted you, hadn't called, and hadn't shown up. Bucky was starting to feel bad and you could tell by the pity looks he kept throwing your way.
"He uhm," Bucky cleared his throat, "Maybe he hit traffic. You know, with it being New York and everything." You nodded, trying to hold onto at least a small bit of hope. "Yeah, traffic."
But then another forty minutes went by and he still hadn't even texted.
And then another hour.
And another hour.
By the time Bucky finally turned off the Tv it was three and a half hours since the time Nash was supposed to come pick you up.
You were still sitting in the armchair, having dozed off with a couple tears streaked down your face. Ruining your once-perfect makeup.
Bucky sighed, silently cursing Sam even though he knew it wasn't his fault.
"Alright, doll," Bucky whispered, placing his metal arm behind your back, and lifting your legs with his right. You groaned awake, holding your phone in your palm as you wiped your cheek. "What time is it?" Your eyes shoot open, "Did he show up?"
Bucky placed you in your bed, handing you one of his t-shirts you had stolen a while ago. "No, doll. I'm sorry." You stripped your shirt off to change as Bucky went into your bathroom, grabbing a couple of makeup wipes.
"Here." He softly spoke, hating your distraught and disappointed expression.
You wiped your makeup off, shedding a couple more tears in the process. The tears dripped from your cheek to the grey henley Bucky had given you. "It's okay. Maybe he was just busy."
Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. He wanted to tell you that any respectful man, any gentleman wouldn't have done what Nash did to you. But he kept his mouth shut, opting to hum in your favor, and threw the makeup wipes in the trash when your face was completely bare.
"Goodnight, Doll." He placed a kiss on the crown of your head as you hummed in response. "Goodnight, Buck."
---
A couple days later, you finally got a text back from Nash.
"Bucky I was right!!"
You came sliding into the kitchen, your socks making it easy to ice-skate on the smooth wood floor.
Bucky chuckled at your ability to skid so gracefully without falling. He had tried it once but vowed to never do it again after he slid into the dining room table. You would never let him live it down.
"Right about what, doll?" Bucky flipped the pancake, adding some vanilla to the dough.
"About Nash! He actually was busy!"
Bucky quirked an eyebrow. Wondering why he had waited this long to text you back. Six days to be exact. "Did he say with what?"
Bucky turned back to making breakfast.
"He said he got busy with work, and that something at work pissed him off so he didn't wanna see me while he was upset." You explained what Nash had told you.
Bucky had never wanted to hit someone in the face so hard.
Well, actually that wasn't true. But he did want to sock Nash in the face for standing you up and giving you a half-ass excuse days later.
"I mean that explains things, yeah..." Your brows furrowed at Bucky's flat tone. "Do you not believe it?"
Bucky sighed, pulling the milk and eggs from the fridge as you sat on the countertop. "It's not that I don't believe it, it's just that it kinda seems like he forgot and or didn't wanna see you so he made up an excuse a little less than a week later to not seem like a dick."
You nodded, taking in the information. Bucky couldn't sense your reaction quite yet, seeing how you were just staring at the ground with your hands in your lap, swinging your legs in the air.
"I mean, I'm seeing him tonight. If everything goes well after then I'll know it really was true."
"You're seeing him again?"
You nod, "But this time I'm meeting him at the fourth corner Bakery. And I'm meeting him earlier this time, around noon."
Bucky looked over at the clock, seeing it was already 10:45. "Well you better go get ready," He said almost reluctantly, "Breakfast will be done before you need to leave."
You smiled, hopping off the countertop as you gave Bucky a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Buck. You're the best!"
He smiled, but then remembered he's only making you breakfast before you go on a date with a guy who's already stood you up once. Rolling his eyes, he scrambled the eyes, listening to your music in the other room.
---
You had already left for your date three hours ago when Bucky decided to go over to see Sam. His excuse was wanting to discuss the next mission they were due to go on in a week. But he just didn't want to sit at home all day, thinking about how you were on a date with another guy.
However, before he could reach Sam's he had to pass by the bakery where you were meeting Nash.
Yet when he looked through the window, there you were, sitting all alone at a table for two, eating a piece of cheesecake. No Nash in sight.
An internal war started in Bucky's mind. Should he go in and see if you were okay? Or should he believe Nash was in the bathroom and you were just sitting by yourself for a minute or two?
But then he noticed the solemn look on your face. The way your fork poked at the half-eaten cake. And that was your favorite kind. Bucky mumbled a soft curse, opening the door to the bakery and making his way over to you.
Without words, he sat down, his gloved hand resting on the table in front of your plate. You kept your head down, not quite looking at Bucky but knowing he was there.
"He didn't show, again." You mumbled. If Bucky didn't have super soldier hearing he doubted he could've heard what you had said.
"I know, doll. I'm sorry." You finally looked up, tears in your eyes which made Bucky's heart clench. "Why me, Buck? Why am I the one who's alone?" Bucky stayed silent, knowing you needed to vent.
"Am I unlovable? Is that what it is? Why does every single one of my friends get to find the one? Get to fall in love, get married, and have kids and I'm the one without someone?!" Your outburst made some other customers look over in concern.
You groaned, resting your head on your hand and hiding your face from the rest of the bakery. "I- uh, I'm not sure, doll. But I know one thing.. you're not unlovable. You just haven't found the one who wants to take the effort to show you how effortless you are to love."
You looked up at Bucky, fresh tears gleaming in your eyes. You had never seen him look so vulnerable before. He usually grumped his way through emotions. But not with you, not anymore.
He gave you a sad smile, clearing his throat before he stood, "Y'know what, doll. Let's go." He held out his hand. You looked around, "Where are we going?"
Bucky took your palm in his gloved hand, "It's a surprise." You laughed, before standing and throwing the rest of your soggy cheesecake away. "You know how I feel about surprises."
"Okay, I'll give you a hint." Bucky opened the door for you, making sure to walk on the side of the road with the bustling cars and traffic. Bucky called a taxi, opening the door for you. "You're about to have the best date of your life."
You stared at him in awe before laughing and climbing in the taxi. Bucky's knees barely fit as he scooted in next to you. The driver asked where to go as Bucky licked his lips, "Brooklyn, please."
You smiled, "Brooklyn?"
Bucky nodded, throwing an arm around your shoulder. "I may be old but I still know some good spots to take my best girl on a date."
A blush rose to your cheeks as you looked over to him. "Your best girl?"
Bucky nodded, picking up your hand with his metal one before leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. "Always and forever, doll."
---
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Their phones go off at the same time, a tiny ding that echoes across their apartment. Mary frowns at Shannon’s phone, Shannon frowns at Mary’s, and they both reach at the same time.
“Beatrice,” Mary reads off Shannon’s phone.
Shannon turns Mary’s phone right side up and purses her lips. “Ava.”
Mary groans and lets her head fall back against the couch. “What did they get themselves into this time?”
Shannon pats her leg gently before she steals a chip right out of the bag Mary is still clutching. She throws one back, mouth puckering at the salt and vinegar taste. “Between the two of them? It could be anything.”
Mary blindly thumbs her passcode out and the screen brightens. Shannon opens her messages app.
Their larger group message - F is for friends who do things together - sits towards the top of Shannon’s messages list, just below the other group message that lists her, Lilith, and Beatrice as its only members.
Mary’s messages also has a group message named lilith stop changing the group name back to something boring between her, Ava, and Lilith.
“On three?”
They both open their individual messages at the same time. Mary hums something unintelligible. Shannon frowns.
“Ava went-”
“-on a date.”
Shannon leans over to read Mary’s screen.
Ava (8:41 PM): halp i went on a date
Bea (8:41 PM): Ava went on a date last week.
“Did you-”
“-know Ava was seeing someone?” Mary shakes her head. “Did you-”
“-know Ava was interested in seeing anyone?” Shannon shakes her head this time.
Mary hums again, interest piqued. She abandons the bag of chips, brushing her hand off on her dark jeans. Shannon absently reaches over and brushes the crumbs onto the floor. They can vacuum later. When Mary cradles her phone and sinks back against the couch again, Shannon follows her, pulling her legs up under herself as she leans into Mary’s side.
“What are you going to say?”
Mary regards her. “What are you going to say?”
Shannon shrugs. “I’m going to ask Beatrice who the date was with.”
“I’m going to ask Ava that too.”
It’s a race to see who can text back first, and Mary beats Shannon by a few strikes of her thumb against the glass screen. Shannon pulls Mary’s phone over so she can read it.
Mary (8:43 PM): who?
“Who?” she reads. “That’s all you said?”
Mary shrugs, unbothered. “What did you say?”
Shannon (8:43 PM): Who did she go out with?
“I used a full sentence.”
“It’s texting, babe. Full sentences are for-” Mary stops when Shannon arches an eyebrow in a challenge. She smiles, all teeth. “Full sentences are for losers.”
“This loser makes your dinner,” Shannon reminds her.
Mary is still grinning. “I can dial a phone, you know. A whole world of food, right at my fingertips. Besides, don’t pretend like I don’t make a mean chili.” She nods knowingly when Shannon rolls her eyes. “That’s half the reason you’re in love with me, admit it.”
“Yeah, the other half is because of your humility.” Shannon doesn’t bother softening it and Mary laughs. “So humble.”
Mary’s next words are swallowed up by the ding of her phone, Shannon’s phone is half a second behind.
“Who is JC?” Mary asks.
“Someone in Ava’s biology class,” Shannon answers, reading off her phone. “At least, I’m assuming? Bea said Ava went out with someone from her biology class.”
Mary snorts. “Figures that if Ava isn’t giving me all the pieces, Bea is giving the rest to you.”
Shannon smacks Mary’s knee gently. “Don’t be mean. She’s trying.”
“Who, Bea?”
“Ava.”
Mary shakes her head, hiding the smile on her face. “She’s something, that’s for sure.”
Shannon snorts. “Don’t pretend like that kid isn’t one of your favorite people. You have a terrible poker face.”
Mary’s smile sours into a meaningless scowl. “No, I don’t.” She pulls her phone away from Shannon and thinks for a minute.
Mary (8:44 PM): scale of 1 to 10.
“That’s what you’re going with?” Shannon’s fingers hover over the phone, thinking. “A hotness scale?”
Mary shrugs. “What’re you going to say?”
“Well I’m not going to ask if he’s cute.”
Mary shrugs again. “Of course not. Bea doesn’t care if he’s hot or not.” She nods at Shannon’s phone. “What’ve you got, Masters?”
“I’ve got a girl in love with her best friend at the other end of these messages. So I need to be… delicate.”
Mary softens when Shannon looks back at her. “I know.”
She watches as Shannon turns back to her phone, forehead wrinkling in thought.
Shannon (8:44 PM): How do you think that went?
Satisfied, Shannon sinks further into Mary’s side, warm and soft. Mary smiles, her hand curling around Shannon’s knee, pressing gently against a scar left behind after an ACL tear when she was younger.
They’ve always slotted together so perfectly. They knew it from the moment they met, two terrified freshmen on a large campus with no friends. The study sessions, the lunch breaks between classes. When Shannon finally leaned in, finally curled her fingers around Mary’s jaw and closed her eyes, they each felt something click. A world opened up. Study sessions turned into makeout sessions. Lunch breaks that felt like dates became actual dates.
Mary had been looking for a home for years. She finally knew what it was like to have one.
Shannon walks her fingers over Mary’s knee. “Do you think they realize we’re sitting right next to each other? I feel like they don’t—otherwise they wouldn’t be talking to us about this.”
Mary shrugs. “It’s Tuesday. You usually work on Tuesday nights. So I’m sure Bea thinks you’re just killing time on your shift, and Ava assumes I’m looking for some kind of entertainment.”
“Is this entertaining for you?”
Mary grins. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
Their phones beep almost simultaneously.
Ava (8:44 PM): mid-8 nice smile
Bea (8:44 PM): She said it wasn’t groundbreaking.
“Groundbreaking,” Mary repeats. “Ava said it wasn’t groundbreaking?”
“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Shannon shrugs and reaches for the bag of chips again. She doesn’t like salt and vinegar, but she’s also committed to not getting up for anything short of an apocalypse. “Beatrice doesn’t usually misquote people, though.”
Mary makes a face. “Kid surprises me every day.” She hums quietly.
Mary (8:45 PM): and it took you this long to tell me?
Ava (8:45 PM): okay in my defense
Ava (8:45 PM): no i’ve got nothing
Mary (8:46 PM): what happened?
She knows Ava. Something had to have happened for her to bring this up. Because she probably buried a terrible date, said forget about it, and focused on other things. Like her next iced coffee. Or Bea.
Ava (8:46 PM): we ran into JC at dinner tonight
Ava (8:46 PM): it was weird
Ava (8:46 PM): bea has been idk
Ava (8:46 PM): quiet
Mary snorts. “No shit,” she says out loud. But her brow wrinkles in concern.
Mary (8:46 PM): was he a dick?
Ava (8:47 PM): no, definitely not he’s really nice
Mary nods to herself. Good. Because she’s been short on gym sessions this week, and she could go a few rounds with someone to make up for the difference. Shannon nudges her, catching her attention. “Right. Okay.”
Mary (8:47 PM): going out again?
Shannon rolls her eyes. “You’re so verbose.”
“Don’t be using those million dollar words on me. We’re not all in school for this kind of stuff.”
“Ha.” Shannon elbows Mary gently, soothing the sting of it with a quick press of her lips to Mary’s shoulder. “This kind of stuff is just talking to people, Mary. It’s not limited to just future social workers.”
“Maybe I’m not good at that.”
“I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
“Well I think-” Mary cuts off when Shannon’s elbow digs into her side again. She huffs. “Fine. We’re both incredible. I can already see the headlines when you win social worker of the year.”
“That’s not actually a thing,” Shannon points out.
Mary’s face softens, her eyes going somewhere far away for a moment. “It should be. Could have used someone like you when I was in the system.” Shannon’s hand spreads out against Mary’s thigh, warm and weighted. Mary meets Shannon’s eyes, a hesitant smile on her face. “But I know you’ll make sure they’ve got it better than I did.”
“Of course,” Shannon promises quietly.
For a long moment, the air stills between them. Shannon can picture Mary in her freshman year - hard-headed and brash and walls pulled up to her chin. She’s still hard-headed, still brash. But the walls are knee-height now and crumbling every day as Mary lets herself breathe, surrounded by their friends.
Mary finally smiles and squeezes Shannon’s knee, pouring a thousand unsaid words into her touch. She wants Shannon to know that she saved her life, but sometimes the words don’t come out the right way. So she puts it into touch and hopes that Shannon gets it.
Bea (8:48 PM): Shannon? You still there?
Shannon blinks, the world rushing back in on her. Ava, Bea. Their back and forth high wire act where each of them are afraid to fall - even if Ava doesn’t know that yet.
Shannon (8:48 PM): Sorry, just needed a moment.
Shannon (8:48 PM): Does a date need to be groundbreaking?
Bea (8:48 PM) According to Ava, it’s a requirement.
“Want takeout tonight?” Mary asks as they wait. She opens her mouth but the words are cut off as her phone goes off.
Ava (8:48 PM): no, no more dates for me. he’s nice but it’s not groundbreaking
Mary holds up her phone. “Guess Bea wasn’t kidding.”
“Told you,” Shannon says, preening only a little bit.
Mary (8:49 PM): that’s a lot of expectation going into a first date
Ava (8:49 PM): can’t i have a great romance?
Mary pauses. Of course Ava deserves a great romance. But what is that, exactly? Because she’s sat through movie nights with Ava, people-watched with Ava. She knows Ava thinks The Notebook is romantic and that’s toxic as hell. She knows Ava thinks the two guys who sit under the tree at the quad and share a single iced coffee is romantic, and that’s just gross.
She knows Ava thinks what she has with Shannon is romantic, and she’s not wrong about that.
“Ask Bea what Ava thinks is ‘groundbreaking’,” she instructs Shannon. She’s curious what the rating system is here.
Shannon (8:49 PM): What does Ava think is groundbreaking?
Bea (8:49 PM): Leaving the orphanage. Meeting us.
Mary shakes her head. “No way Ava didn’t actually say ‘meeting Beatrice.”
Shannon (8:50 PM): Are you sure she didn’t mean meeting you?
Mary raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Nice and direct there, Masters. I thought you were being delicate.”
Shannon shrugs and waits patiently for Bea’s response. Sometimes Bea reminds her of the fawn she came across once as a child. Skittish, awkward limbs everywhere as it tried to find its footing and run. But when Shannon approached it, hand out and open, it let her get close. It took a few minutes, Shannon suspended in the middle of the woods. But it slowly approached her and let her touch it, nuzzling into her hand. Beatrice can be like that: skittish, but seeking out comforting touches.
She always thought that it was the best way to approach Bea: slowly, hand open. Ava proved her wrong, crash-landing into Bea’s life with a gracelessness that was endearing from the very beginning. Maybe Bea just needed the right person to cut through her trepidation and bring her out of her shell.
“You can be delicate and still be direct. It just has to be a precision hit,” she replies.
“Hammer vs scalpel,” Mary says nodding. It’s just funny because she and Shannon are always so careful around Bea, whereas Ava always seems to need more of a blunt punch of truth.
Speaking of which. Okay, so if that’s what Ava thinks…Mary cycles through things in her mind. How does she go about this? If meeting Bea was groundbreaking, then a great romance has to be the same thing. Synonymous, like Mary and Shannon. Her eyes flutter closed as she thinks. Maybe Shannon has a point on blending her approach.
Ava always thought that mopey girl meeting the vampire was a great romance. And she knows this, but Ava has terrible taste in movies. She really needs to watch something of substance. Like Love and Basketball. But she can work with this.
Mary (8:50 PM): thought great romances were reserved for your vampire book
Mary has a plan. She’s easing Ava into a conversation. Because Mary knows that Ava wants a great romance. More importantly, she deserves it. She just might not know that she wants - and deserves it - with Beatrice.
Their phones ding in double time, the replies chasing after each other.
Bea (8:51 PM): I’m sure she meant ‘us’ and not me.
Ava (8:51 PM): bella isn’t the only one who deserves a sparkly love interest
Mary puts her phone down for a moment. “How are we doing this?”
Shannon thinks about it for a minute. “I’m not sure,” she admits.
Mary sighs. “Ava can be as dense as that meatloaf you made once and - hey! It was!” She ducks the hand Shannon sends towards her shoulder. “I just mean, she’s either sitting behind a huge wall named Denial, or she really doesn’t get it. So we need to, like, be smart about this.” She sighs. “Why are we doing this?”
“Because Lilith would do a horrible job at it?”
Mary snorts. “You got that right.”
At least Ava knows she deserves happiness. Kid hasn’t had a lot of love in her life, with the raw deal she got growing up. Mary knows something about that. So maybe Ava doesn’t need a delicate touch, but a little positive reinforcement and reassurance that she does deserve love from someone who gets it doesn’t hurt.
Mary (8:53 PM) no kid, you do too
“Bea is just as bad.” Shannon holds up her phone. “I know for a fact that Ava said Bea and not us, but she’s going to pretend like that isn’t true because that means she has to face a reality where Ava feels the same way about her as she does about Ava.”
“Maybe you should have gone into psychology.”
Shannon makes a face. “Absolutely not.”
Shannon (8:53 PM): Bea. Even if she didn’t say you, you’re allowed to want her to have.
Shannon (8:53 PM): And if she did, you’re allowed to acknowledge what that means.
Bea (8:54 PM): I’m not sure what it means.
Shannon groans as she reads Bea’s response. She takes a deep, steadying breath. She loves Beatrice. She’s loved her from the minute they crossed paths in their English seminar - a sophomore level class that Bea tested into. But for someone so smart, she sometimes tends to miss signs right in front of her face.
No, Shannon thinks. She can read the signs. But the years with her parents… Maybe she just doesn’t want to see them. Maybe she doesn’t trust them. Maybe she just needs a little nudge.
Shannon (8:55 PM): I think you know what it means.
Mary breaks her concentration as she reads Ava’s text out loud, forehead pinched in thought.
Ava (8:55 PM): i just don’t know if i’ll get it.
Mary sighs. “Are we sure Lilith can’t do this?” She goes to text back, but three grey dots pop up before she can, so she waits.
Ava (8:55 PM): but i think
Ava (8:55 PM): i think i realized something
She shoves her phone under Shannon’s nose, all thoughts of Lilith taking over flying out of her mind. “Babe.”
Shannon’s reply is swallowed up by Bea’s next message.
Bea (8:56 PM): Correction: I don’t think I’m allowed to want it to mean what I think it means.
Shannon sighs. “Oh, Bea.”
Mary doesn’t hear her, too wrapped up as she frantically types, backspaces, types, and backspaces again. “Do I play dumb?” she asks herself. “Or do I just say finally?” She types something out and erases it one more time before she sends something.
Mary (8:56 PM): what’s that?
Shannon (8:57 PM): And in a perfect world, what do you want it to mean?”
Three grey dots pop up on Mary’s screen and linger there long enough that Mary puts her phone down and picks through her bag of chips until she finds one big enough that when she fits the whole thing in her mouth, she has to blow out her cheeks to keep it in there. Shannon makes a noise of mild disgust.
Shannon’s phone beeps first.
Bea (8:58 PM): I think you know.
Shannon (8:58 PM) Lightning won’t strike you down if you say it.
“Might,” Mary mumbles through a mouthful of chips. Shannon’s eyes cut to her. “What? You know Bea is thinking it.”
Shannon can’t really argue with that, so she doesn’t try. She just waits for Bea’s response, which comes quicker than she thought it might.
Bea (8:59 PM): I want her to mean that I’m groundbreaking.
“Atta girl,” Shannon whispers to herself.
Shannon (8:59 PM): You are.
Mary’s phone finally beeps.
Ava (8:59 PM): i was thinking about it and
Ava (8:59 PM): bea is groundbreaking, you know?
Mary (9:00 PM): obviously
It’s a gut reaction, but Mary texts back before she can stop herself. She almost follows it up with something softer to cut the edge off it.
But she’s been watching Ava trip over herself the last few months and honestly, it’s a bit exhausting to not want to sit her down and bop her over the head with a printed book of all the texts Ava has sent her talking about how Bea looks today, or what Bea said today, or how she wants to do something, but has to check with Bea first.
The book would cost her an insane amount of money to print and it would be bigger than the Shakespeare text she uses as a door stopper since she spilled orange juice on it and can’t sell it back.
Ava (9:00 PM): what do you mean obviously?!
Ava (9:00 PM): mary
Ava (9:00 PM): mARY
Ava (9:00 PM): what does THAT mean?!
Mary stifles a laugh, lets a sigh slip through, and closes her phone. She lets her head fall to the back of the couch and takes a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Mary’s phone goes off again, beep after beep after beep after beep. She doesn’t dare pick it up.
Shannon picks up Mary’s phone, types in the passcode, and chuckles as she catches up on Ava’s messages. “You really shouldn’t have.”
Then her own phone dings, catching her attention.
Bea (9:02 PM) But I’m not sure she really feels that way. Surely, she would say something.
“Do you ever want to wrap them up in, like, the world’s tightest hug?” Shannon asks.
“Sometimes I want to wrap them to a post and leave them there until they figure their shit out.”
Mary’s phone goes off again and she picks it up this time, opening her messages.
Ava (9:02 PM): there’s nothing OBVIOUS about it
Ava (9:02 PM): it’s rude actually
Ava (9:02 PM): to say something like that and just NOT ANSWER UR MESSAGES
Ava (9:02 PM): Mary pick up your phone.
Ava (9:01 PM): at least when i told bea it wasn’t groundbreaking she didn’t go RADIO SILENT
Ava (9:01 PM): in fact we went out for coffee because i got bea one but
Ava (9:01 PM): wait
Mary smiles slowly. There it is.
Shannon glances at Mary, most of her attention still on her conversation with Bea. She’s making headway, she can feel it. Bea at least admitting that Ava could maybe feel the same way about her is step one. Step two is getting Bea to just say it out loud.
Shannon (9:03 PM): She can’t say something if she doesn’t know.
Bea (9:03 PM): I certainly can’t tell her.
Mary reads over her shoulder. “She certainly should. Because it would save all of us a lot of trouble.”
Ava (9:04 PM): Mary.
Mary (9:04 PM): Ava
“How do you tell someone that the person they’re hopelessly in love with is hopelessly in love with them? Asking for a friend.”
Shannon ignores her.
Shannon (9:05 PM): Bea, you don’t need to tell her right now.
Shannon (9:05 PM): But you should think about it.
“What do you think the odds are that they’re sitting next to each other on the couch right now?”
Shannon snorts. “That sounds exactly like something they would do.”
“Picture it,” Mary continues. “Sitting on opposite ends of the couch but you know Ava’s got her feet all over Bea which is disgusting. And they’re probably having a charged conversation where they talk about the weather being nice, but Ava is really talking about Bea’s eyes or whatever. And they’re just… texting us about each other.”
Shannon laughs this time. “How did we end up like this? Mom-ing two helplessly in-love-with-each-other - and I say this affectionately - idiots?”
“I must have really pissed someone off in a past life.”
Ava (9:05 PM): bea IS groundbreaking
Mary (9:05 PM): you’re repeating yourself
Ava (9:05 PM): i’ve always thought so
Mary (9:06 PM): i’m not going to argue with you
Mary leans into Shannon’s side. “Be honest. They would benefit from some professional help, wouldn’t they?” She dodges Shannon’s hand again. “Or at least someone like Camila. If Ava wants to go for a drink or throw some darts or fix an engine, I can do that.”
“Okay dad,” Shannon snorts.
Bea (9:07 PM): I can’t think about it. Because if I think about it, I’m going to tell her. And if I tell her and she doesn’t say it back, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Shannon (9:07 PM): You’ll do what you always do. Persevere.
Shannon (9:07 PM): But I don’t think you’ll need to.
Mary’s screen lights up with a text that she thinks about ignoring. She shouldn’t have opened this box, shouldn’t have pried at the lock that held back this little revelation. She should have just said it was nice that Ava went on a date and left it at this JC guy being an 8. She should have put down her phone and focused on wowing Shannon with the pico de gallo she managed to make earlier.
Ava (9:07 PM): she’s my favorite person, full offense
Mary (9:08 PM): like that’s going to offend me. i’m shannon’s
Ava (9:08 PM): do you think i’m bea’s
Mary drops her phone. “Nope. I’m not doing this.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” Shannon picks up the abandoned phone and scrolls back a few messages, eyes tracking the conversation. She laughs at Ava’s last message, before handing the phone back to Mary. “Ava loves fishing for compliments, doesn’t she?”
“She’s fishing in the wrong pond,” Mary retorts, punching out a quick response.
Mary (9:09 PM): focus, silva
“She should try the other side of her couch.”
Shannon glances at her own phone and considers what the person sitting on the other side of Ava’s couch is thinking at this very moment. A minute stretches on with nothing from Bea. Shannon starts to worry her bottom lip between her teeth.
She’s not trying to push. But Bea deserves something amazing to happen to her. And they can all - even Mary - admit that Ava is the most amazing thing that’s happened to Beatrice. A needed respite for all the ways the world has let Bea down in the past. She nearly drops her phone in relief when it goes off.
Bea (9:11 PM): I’m not ready.
Shannon (9:11 PM): No one is ever ready for love.
Bea (9:12 PM): What if I never am?
There’s a fluttering in Shannon’s chest where her heart skips a beat at Bea’s text. Bea is so much more ready than she thinks she is, Shannon knows it. But she also knows that Bea’s parents run deep in her mind and that’s hard to overcome. It doesn’t matter, though. If she knows anything about Ava, she knows that her patience with Bea is neverending.
Shannon (9:13 PM): Someone who loves you won’t worry about that. Someone who loves you will want you to take your time, if that’s what you need. Love isn’t linear, Bea.
Three dots appear on her screen for a long moment before they disappear. Shannon takes a deep breath and hopes she hasn’t pushed it.
Needing something else to do, she peers at Mary’s phone. “Are you-”
A beep cuts her off.
Ava (9:13 PM): right. but if SHE’S groundbreaking that means…
“She’s going to be the death of me,” Mary groans.
Mary (9:13 PM): that means…
Ava (9:14 PM): hypothetical question
Ava (9:14 PM): how do you know if you’re in love with your best friend or not?
“Finally!!”
“Mary,” Shannon scolds.
Mary (9:14 PM) i’m sure there’s a buzzfeed quiz for that
“Mary.”
Ava (9:15 PM): mary
Mary (9:15 PM): ava
Ava (9:15 PM): i’m serious
Mary (9:16 PM) so am i
Mary (9:17 PM): but if you don’t want to dig through the internet to find one
Mary (9:17 PM): let me tell you what your results would be
Mary (9:17 PM): you are
Shannon’s phone goes off and she mistypes her passcode twice before she manages to get it open. Mary leans over, hooking her chin on Shannon’s shoulder to read the message with her.
Bea (9:18 PM): She deserves someone who isn’t afraid to be in love with her.
“That’s not fair,” Mary says quietly. “That’s not fair to her.”
Shannon frowns. “To Ava?”
“To Bea.”
Shannon (9:19 PM): You’re not afraid to be in love with her. You’re afraid of the world around your love. Your parents did a number on you, Bea. That takes time to get over.
Their phones go quiet for a while. So long that Mary gets up and puts away the chips, and Shannon tidies up the kitchen. They decide on getting Thai for dinner because Ava sent them a Snapchat of her leftovers this morning with Bea in the background wearing a disapproving face. Ava had captioned it: she doesn’t like it when i eat over the sink.
By the time she finishes setting out the plates for dinner, Mary is just about to give up on her conversation with Ava. It’s stalled out. Ava will swing by before her class tomorrow for pancakes at the student cafeteria, and they’ll talk about whatever Ava is obsessed with this week - last week it was the manatees she saw in a video when she was supposed to be studying for an exam. They’ll pretend like this never happened, like Ava didn’t come to some big revelation on a Tuesday night in the middle of February while Mary is in her socks with the little handcuffs on them.
She likes that idea. That works best for her. But just as she thinks it, her phone beeps.
Ava (9:31 PM): i am?
Mary (9:31 PM): do you not know that?
“Shannon, help me,” Mary groans, even as she starts texting back.
Ava (9:32 PM): there’s a lot i’m realizing i don’t know right now
“Go fucking figure,” she mutters. Her fingers fly over the keyboard.
Mary (9:32 PM): let me break it down for you. you went out with this guy last week?
Ava (9:32 PM): tuesday yeah
Mary (9:33 PM): and it was okay
Mary (9:33 PM): it wasn’t groundbreaking or earth-shattering or anything that totally rocked your world
Mary (9:33 PM): but your best friend is someone who checks all those boxes?
There’s another long pause, another minute of three gray dots dancing on her screen before Ava’s text pops up in its place.
Ava (9:35 PM): you’ve met her
Mary (9:36 PM): but i don’t think the sun shines out of her ass
Mary (9:36 PM): and she’s one of my best friends, but i don’t know if i’d call her earth-shaking or whatever
Mary (9:37 PM): because i’m not in love with her.
Mary (9:37 PM): i don’t spend every moment talking to her or about her or wishing i could do those things
Mary (9:38 PM): but you…
Mary glances at Shannon but she’s too busy, bent over her phone. She doesn’t even notice the eye roll that Mary sends her phone. Or the tongue she sticks out. Or that she immediately goes to her internet browser, finds the picture she’s looking for, and saves Ava’s new contact image as a clown.
Across the room, Shannon sits back on the couch and stares intently at her screen, willing a message to come through even as it remains blank. She sends out a quiet prayer to whoever is listening that Beatrice allows herself to give into this feeling, to let herself feel like she deserves this kind of love.
Finally, a bubble pops up.
Beatrice (9:39 PM): I should be over it.
Shannon frowns.
Shannon (9:39 PM): Show me the person who says you should be over it.
Beatrice (9:39 PM): I’m afraid I’d be looking in a mirror.
“Oh, Bea,” Shannon breathes. She has to take a minute. She has to breathe in slowly and count to 7 before she exhales and counts to 11, and in between those spaces she feels her heart break just a little bit.
Shannon (9: 40 PM): Then cover your mirrors and come talk to me instead.
Satisfied with her clown selection, Mary plops down next to Shannon and switches back to her conversation with Ava. She realizes she’s just dropping bomb after bomb right now, throwing them like firecrackers and imagining Ava dance around them. She can practically see them exploding in Ava’s eyes as Mary’s words rearrange what Ava had thought before this conversation.
This is big. This is Mary holding up a mirror to Ava’s face and telling her to look at the truth. Part of her knows she’s going to regret this. If Ava didn’t shut up about Bea before, now that Mary has said something, has opened the proverbial door… God, she’s going to be so annoying.
Ava (9:41 PM): there’s so much to say about her though
Ava (9:41 PM): she’s funny and she’s insanely intelligent
Ava (9:41 PM): and she’s the first person i want to talk to when something good happens
Ava (9:42 PM): or something bad
Ava (9:42 PM): or something funny
Ava (9:42 PM): oh.
Ava (9:42 PM): shit.
Something occurs to Mary, and she closes her messages, opening her phone’s calendar. She scrolls back a week and her eyes widen as she reads the date.
Mary (9:43 PM): girl, i just checked the calendar. you went out with this guy on valentine’s day?!
Ava (9:43 PM): i didn’t notice!
Mary (9:43 PM): and THEN you went home and took BEA out for coffee?
Ava (9:44 PM): which wasn’t a date
Mary (9:44 PM): from the sounds of it, coulda fooled me
Mary nearly throws her phone but the only place for it to go is over Shannon’s legs onto the other couch cushion.
And Shannon has that look on her face like she wants to cry or scream or do both, so Mary’s priorities shift. She puts the phone down on the table and turns, sliding one arm across Shannon’s shoulders and rubs her fingers against the bone there.
“Hey,” she murmurs. “You okay?”
“I don’t know why she’s so hard on herself.” Shannon sighs. “I mean, I know why she is. And if I ever meet her parents-”
“There’s a line, I know.”
“And I’m at the front of it.”
Mary smiles humorlessly. “I think you might be second.”
“Good,” Shannon murmurs. “Bea needs as many people in her life as she can get.”
“Who she has is a good place to start.” Mary rubs at Shannon’s shoulder again and leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head.
Bea (9:46 PM): Ava says that sometimes, she wishes she could fight my mind for me.
Shannon (9:46 PM): I think you should let her.
Bea (9:47 PM): I think she would win.
Shannon (9:47 PM): Good
Shannon (9:47 PM): It’s because she loves you, Beatrice.
Bea (9: 48 PM): I’m worried that, if she ever did, that feeling would be long gone before I was ready.
Mary shifts away as Shannon focuses on her phone, tongue poked out between her teeth as she starts a long message. It’s been a minute since Ava texted her back. A long time for Ava, who fires off texts as quickly as her thoughts come. But this whole conversation has been filled with pauses. It’s a different side of Ava.
It’s an Ava who had the world shift and is now dealing with the fallout. Mary gets it.
But she wonders, is deciding to be in a relationship so hard for other people?
Because it wasn’t hard for her. It was probably one of the easiest things she’s ever done in her life. It happened so naturally, so - what’s the word Camila says? Organically. She’s so in love with Shannon, even if she shrugs it off when people poke fun at her for it. She’s not above telling anyone how much Shannon means to her, but she is better at showing it.
Acts of service, Camila told her, when they did some stupid quiz where they asked about love languages. She hadn’t even known there were so many of them. She always thought she was just kind of okay at loving Shannon. Turns out, she was doing better than she thought, giving Shannon what it seemed like she wanted and needed. And once she figured it out, it happened as naturally as their relationship did. Maybe they just got lucky to have it so easy.
Her phone beeps and Mary rolls her eyes at Ava’s message. Or maybe she and Shannon were just smart enough to use their damn words.
Ava (9:48 PM): do you think she’d want to go out with me?
Mary (9:48 PM): i don’t get paid enough for this conversation.
Ava (9:49 PM): my friendship is payment enough
Shannon hears Mary huff, feels the air across her shoulder. But she’s too busy to turn and give her the attention, too focused to hear about whatever thing Ava said that made Mary feel like she needed to pretend to be annoyed. Because she’s trying to come up with something to make Bea understand that she is worth all the praise people bestow on her. She’s so brave, so committed to healing the wounds her parents etched into her.
Bea needs to know that despite them, she is coming into who she deserves to be. And she’s got someone she deserves to love within her reach.
Shannon (9:51 PM): Anyone who is worth your time will understand and hold that space for you until you’re ready for something so big. You ARE making progress, Bea. I remember you as a freshman, so afraid of your own shadow. And now you’re bold and strong. You’ve come so far. And Ava has been a big part of that. She’s brought out this part of you that everyone knew you had, but you were too afraid to show.
Shannon (9:52 PM): She’s good for you.
And before Bea can say anything, Shannon texts her again.
Shannon (9:52 PM): I know you’d be good for her too.
Shannon bites her lip and thinks before she types out, “You should tell her how you feel. She won’t say no.” But she stops and erases it. Maybe it’s too much for Bea to handle right now. Maybe she needs to slow down.
But another part of her, a voice that whispers excitedly in her ear and sounds just like her mother before she gives away a particularly juicy bit of gossip, says, “You could say it.”
She could. She could be the little push that gets the cart rolling. She could be the one at their wedding telling this story. She can see it in her mind: Bea, flushed with embarrassment. Ava, smiling fondly and teasing Bea for having a crush on her. She can hear the glasses clinking as people call for a kiss and feel the claps on her shoulder when people thank her for helping them take that first step.
Mary sinks further back into the couch and stretches her legs out on the coffee table. Shannon doesn’t even notice. She’s working something over in her mind, and she has this look on her face. Mary can see the wheels turning, recognizes exactly where she’s seen that look before, and she doesn’t like where they’re going.
“We’re not playing matchmaker,” she warns.
Shannon’s cheeks pinken slightly. “Did I say we were going to play matchmakers?”
“You didn’t have to. I can see it written all over your face.” Mary shakes her head when Shannon opens her mouth to argue, resolutely. “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”
“We’re already in the middle of this,” Shannon points out.
“Fine. We’re not getting more in the middle of this.” Mary says it firmly. “These two idiots need to figure the rest out on their own. They don’t need hand-holding.”
“I think that this conversation has proven they need hand-holding,” Shannon argues.
Mary can’t tell her that’s not true, because it is. Ava is coming to a lot of realizations tonight, and she wouldn’t have gotten there without Mary sticking herself into the middle of it. She knows it. Shannon knows it. And that infuriatingly addictive smile slowly stretching across her face, transforming into a full blown grin means Shannon knows she knows it too.
“No,” she warns. She opens her mouth to say more when her phone goes off again.
Ava (9:53 PM): mary, i can’t not think about this now
Mary (9: 54 PM): could you talk to me about it a little less?
Ava (9:55 PM): but you’re the only one who knows!
Mary snorts. “I don’t think you’re that slick, kid.”
Shannon laughs as she reads it. “No, the only one who doesn’t know is Bea.” Her head tilts to the side, a knowing look crossing her face. “You still think they don’t need a little nudge?”
Mary sighs, surrendering to Shannon’s logic and gives in.
Mary (9:56 PM): listen, baby girl. don’t just think about it. do something about it!
Ava (9:56 PM): i don’t want to do something she doesn’t want to do
Ava (9:56 PM): this isn’t trying jamaican food from the burrito place
Ava (9:56 PM): this is our friendship
This means the world to me, Mary reads between the lines. She can’t help but smile. Mary talks a lot of shit most days, grunts her way through conversations that require a bit more finesse than she’s comfortable with, but she’s got a soft spot for her friends. A softer spot for Ava.
Ava (9:57 PM): i don’t wanna fuck this up
Ava has a lot of them wrapped around her finger. Even Lilith, who would never admit it, even under penalty of death. But it’s there. It’s real. They’d all go to the ends of the Earth for Ava Silva. Beatrice would be leading the charge.
Mary (9:57 PM): then just hold onto it for now. you don’t have to say anything yet
Mary (9:58 PM): but you should think about it
Mary (9:58 PM): because i think you’d be good together.
Mary (9:59 PM): and you’re right. you deserve a sparkly love interest. and bea is miles better looking than that edward guy
Ava (9:59): i knew you were paying attention last weekend
Mary (9:59 PM): you don’t know shit
Ava sends back an emoji with its tongue hanging out and its eyes rolling around its head. Mary closes her phone. That’s enough for tonight.
Shannon opens her phone one last time. Bea probably won’t text her back tonight, but that’s okay. She doesn’t open herself up a lot, doesn’t always tell Shannon what she’s thinking. She hopes Bea does that with Ava. She hopes Bea lets Ava see all the parts of herself that she hides away from everyone else, afraid to look those parts of herself in the eyes.
Because Bea deserves it. Bea, in Ava’s words, deserves her own great romance.
She deserves it with someone who loves her as much as Ava seems like she does.
And Ava might not have known it. Ava may have just figured it out tonight, pieces she didn’t notice independently coming together into a whole picture. But Ava does now. And Ava will continue to love Bea the way she deserves to be loved. Shannon knows it just by looking at the two of them together. The way they fit so easily, the way she fits with Mary.
Shannon (10:00 PM): Be honest. Be direct. Tell her how you feel. If you never say anything, you’ll never know and you might just miss your chance.
Shannon (10:00 PM): Just use your words, Beatrice. You’ll be surprised what happens when you do.
She sighs, sinking down into the cushion and dropping her head down on Mary’s shoulder. “We’re totally the parents of the friend group.”
“I hate that.”
Shannon smiles as she turns her head, pressing it into Mary’s soft shirt and breathing in the smell of sandalwood and their laundry detergent. This is her favorite place to be in the world, tucked into Mary’s side like there’s no one else around.
Her mind goes to Bea. Is that what she feels like when she’s with Ava? She hopes so. Everyone deserves to have this feeling at one point in their lives. For all of their life, if they’re lucky.
“Think they’ll take our advice?” Mary asks quietly.
Shannon thinks about it. “In time. They’ll figure it out when they’re ready.”
“Lord help me, it better be before we graduate.” Mary shimmies down a little, catching the television remote with her foot and kicking it towards Shannon’s hand. “Because if they haven’t gotten it together by graduation night, I’m going to sic Lilith on them.”
Shannon laughs and presses the power button on the remote. “No you won’t.”
“No, I won’t,” Mary mumbles. “But I’ll want to.”
Shannon pats her knee gently. “I know, babe.”
Mary turns, presses her lips to the crown of Shannon’s head. “I love you.”
Something soft in Shannon’s chest melts even further. “I love you too.”
She feels Mary smile against her hair and then turn her attention back to the television. They’re done talking about feelings for the night and that’s okay. Mary will make her tea before bed and pull down her side of the comforter and leave the bathroom light on for her when she’s done brushing her teeth. And in the morning she’ll make Shannon breakfast even though she’s going to go eat with Ava, and she’ll say I love you a hundred different ways that aren’t those three little words.
Sometimes, that’s enough. But sometimes, Shannon likes to hear the way they sound coming out of Mary’s mouth.
And she knows Ava will like the way they sound coming out of Bea’s mouth too.
You can do it, Beatrice, she thinks to herself. Just be brave.
(more forever roomates)
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Too Hard
Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head.
Part 1 here.
The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.
What a stupid thought to have because of you.
Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.
So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.
“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.
Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.
On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.
Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”
Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.
His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.
Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.
After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.
If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.
The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!
For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.
After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.
Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.
Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?
Could you possibly-
Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.
He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-
Jamil froze in his tracks.
The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.
Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.
Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.
Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.
Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?
Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.
What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?
Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.
He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.
Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.
“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.
“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.
As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.
And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.
Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.
All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.
“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.
Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.
Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?
Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.
Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.
“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.
Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.
“Hmm. Maybe he will.”
Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?
Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.
How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?
“You know-”
“So-”
You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.
Even your surprised look was so-
“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.
“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.
“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”
He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.
“No. It is not.”
You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.
Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?
“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.
“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.
Wait.
Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?
The thought twisted his stomach into knots.
Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end.
Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day.
I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too.
Tag list:
@colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo
If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)
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