#I thought that since it’s chilly again for my it’s Wayhaven time

[celestialscarlet]

Victorine “Victoria” Baird of the Wayhaven Chronicles

[mistyeyedbi-archive]

Jump Off This Ledge I'm On (pt 2)

Summary: Fresh out of highschool and into college, Zuri sequesters herself in her dorm room with a flag in her hands. One that doesn't feel the same.

Warnings: Subtle mention of comp het and an innuendo made by non other than Bobby Marks

Prompt: Flags for @wayhavensummer

-

There was a hollow ache in her chest. Something pulsing and shuffling inside her ribcage. She was flat on her back, her legs dangling off of the twin bed in her shared dorm room. It was darker than it was before, the only source of light entering from the small windows on either side of the room. Soft pinks and blues filtering through the window and dancing along the poster-covered, white walls from the party happening just outside. Bass ricocheted off the walls and into her ears, and yet it couldn't distract her from her racing mind. 

It had been four years. Four years since she attended her first pride parade and grew confident in her identity. Four years since she was surrounded by joy and acceptance for a week, where nothing existed outside of celebrating herself and those around her. Her smile and her laughter had been more genuine than they had been in years. She was welcomed home with open arms.

She bought a flag that day. Soft, satin material. Shades of red and pink on either side of a white bar, sitting in her hands. It used to be her salvation. A lighthouse in the raging storm of feelings she couldn't sit down in front of her and analyze. She couldn't talk down something that drowned out rational thought, something that had fire in its throat and breathed flames and demanded to be heard. But this flag cooled prickling heat and cut through the grey clouds. 

So much has changed since then. Al moved back to the city. Zuri was in college now and everything about it was new and challenging and she grabbed it by the horns. New didn't scare her.

But the flag felt heavy now, a crushing weight of guilt. It was difficult to raise her arm and wave it through the air when it no longer felt right. When it no longer felt like clarity and comfort. The label that once fit snugly against her body had warped somehow. She never thought it could shrink and enlarge the way it did. That the collar could wrap around her throat and squeeze. That the sleeves could fall past her fingertips and graze the floor, leaving her fumbling to grasp onto something solid and stumbling with every step that she took.

She didn't think there would be more mountain to climb. The journey was supposed to be over, wasn't it?

But how could it be when she could still feel the flutters of attraction towards men? When she could still long for them the way she longs for women? When femininity and masculinity can exist in both and in neither, simultaneously and exclusively, and she could find herself loving any of it in any form? 

She could only allow herself to think that those feelings were forced for so long. The heart doesn't lie, and hers wanted to be with someone who goes weak-kneed at her attention and sends electricity down her spine. She wouldn't lose any sleep if she found that in a man.

And that terrified her.

Some people weren't as nice if you came out twice; some would see her as a living, breathing stereotype. Wayhaven's indifference towards sexuality wouldn't be enough to lift the guilt off of her shoulders.

She wasn't sure how she could go about doing this again. Another big announcement? Simply explaining herself if she found herself on the arm of a man? What if she went to pride in the city again? How was she supposed to see the same faces and let them see her covered in different colours? What would they think?

She frowned and lifted the flag, holding it out in front of her. Her vision blurred as her thumbs caressed the satin. What would Al think?

The door swung open. Zuri jolted, the tears collecting on her eyelids falling before she could stop them, rolling down her cheeks and to her ears as she held the flag tightly to her chest. She froze and dragged her gaze away from the ceiling to the door, letting out a small noise of confusion at who she saw.

Bobby Marks was leaning against the door frame, glancing at the bed on the other side of the room with a grin. It faltered at its vacancy before widening when his eyes landed on her. "Where's that gorgeous roommate of yours?"

She shifted, subtly wiping the tears away on the duvet while answering, "Riley?"

"That's her bed, isn't it?"

"With the amount of times her boyfriend crashes in here, it could be his."

"Boyfriend," he muttered with a frown. She winced, gathering up an apology for crushing whatever hopes he had with her before pausing at the sudden change in demeanor. His brow was raised, lips stretching into a smirk as he glanced at the bed again. "Those two are a couple of edgy rulebreakers, aren't they?"

Her eyes widened. That was an awfully chilly tone directed at someone he seemed to have some interest in. 

"You didn't think to tell on them?"

Zuri shook her head, putting her index and thumb together to make a zipping motion over her lips. He chuckled and stepped into the room, stopping when her gaze snapped to his feet. She barely knew him and it looked like he was gearing up to get cosy, as if she even allowed him in. He just walked in on her crying. God that's terrible, terrible timing-

He held his palms up, his smirk edging towards something more sheepish. "You're Zuri Jackson, right?"

She nodded with an affirmative hum.

"You don't seem as smiley as people say you are. Or talkative," he said with the slightest tilt of his head. "But you're gorgeous and good at keeping secrets, which makes you good in my books."

She hummed again, offering as charming a smile as she could muster at the compliment before turning her head and gazing out the window, her eyes following a group of her classmates strolling past the window.

"I'm heading out there soon, you should join me."

Zuri just barely held back a short laugh as she turned to him. Should.

"I could use the company," he continued, dragging his gaze down her body before returning it to her face, his smirk fading slightly as he lingered on her eyes. "And you look like you could use the distraction."

She laughed, hoping it sounded genuine enough, and sat up, staring at the flag for one last time. "You have no idea."

She looked up and inhaled sharply when she was met with an outstretched hand. She followed the length of his arm before stopping at his face (was that a smolder?), intrigue and amusement curling her features into a lopsided smile and a raised brow.

"I don't remember letting you in."

"I don't remember you protesting," he said, shooting her a charming grin. "And now I'm giving you the honor of being my date to this party."

Zuri laughed, shaking her head and taking his hand before pressing her own to her chest in faux enchantment. "Oh, what an incredible honor. I can hardly believe it. Truly, a sweet, charitable deed."

He smirked, pulling her to her feet and leaning towards her. "The deeds I plan to do with you are nowhere near sweet."

"Ha!" She ripped her hand away before walking past him. "Don't even think about it."

The boy was practically a stranger (a cocky yet weirdly charming stranger), but she'd rather hang out with him at a party than sit in her festering guilt. If she had it her way, she'd return too exhausted to think, pass out and wake up with everything solved. But there was still more mountain to climb, and she wasn't sure when she'd be ready to face it again.

New didn't scare her, but the familiarity of the closet did.

[haledamage]

Rhicember 12/22

I got you something… - Kira/Mason

“I got you something.”

Kira held a small black box out to Mason. He stared at it suspiciously.

“Why?” He managed to fit a remarkable amount of contempt in that single word.

She sighed and shook the box in his direction, insistent. “Just take it.”

“Hope you aren’t expecting a gift in return, sweetheart,” he said, though he still didn’t make any move toward the box.

“I’m not stupid.” She rolled her eyes. She took a step closer to him, ready to attempt to force him to take the gift if she had to. “Fucking take it, Mason. It’s not going to bite you.”

He finally relented, though he clearly didn’t believe it to not be dangerous, eyeing it and her warily. He opened the box and wariness gave away to confusion as he pulled out a simple door key. “The fuck is this?”

“It’s a key.” He just kept glaring at her, so she sighed and added, “Follow me.”

Surprisingly, he did. She led him out of the apartment and up the stairs, all the way up to the top. She took the key from him to unlock the door leading up onto the roof and into the cold night air. Kira stopped just past the doorway and watched Mason as he slowly walked past her, some of the tension draining from his shoulders as he looked around.

It was a simple, flat roof of stone and concrete, a waist-high wall around the outside edge, pretty barren except for a few service units and air vents scattered about. Near the middle was a bell tent, barely more than just a pole draped in canvas, with an electric lantern, a space heater, and a clear, waterproof plastic case filled with books. It was a chilly winter night, but the roof was clear of snow and somehow it never felt as cold up here as it should.

“Even as small as Wayhaven is, sometimes it’s just… too much,” Kira said quietly, not wanting to break the calm she always felt in this place. “So I come up here. No one else does, or at least I’ve never seen them. In the middle of the night, it can feel like I’m the only person awake in the whole world.”

“It’s quiet,” Mason said, and there was something almost gentle and awed in his tone. He stood at the edge of the roof, staring down at the street far below them. “Why did you show me this?”

“Because I knew you’d get it. I…” she tried to decide how best to answer. After a moment of consideration, she decided to just tell him the truth. “I had no idea what to get you for Christmas. It didn’t seem right to not get you anything, since I got something for everyone else, especially considering… well, considering. But you don’t strike me as the type that likes sentimental knick knacks.”

He scoffed in clear agreement, but even that was softer, less hostile than she was used to hearing from him.

“I wanted to give you…” she paused. Everything she wanted to say sounded too cheesy. This is a piece of me I’ve never shared with anyone else, she wanted to tell him. Please just take it. She finally settled on saying, “Peace. At least a little bit of it. With that key, you can come up here anytime you want. I come up a lot, but if you don’t want company, just let me know you’re here and I’ll make sure to leave you alone. The tent blocks the worst of the wind, and for really cold nights there’s a heater if you--”

“Kira,” he said, and her rambling stopped abruptly at the unfamiliar sound of her name from his lips. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said softly. “Happy Christmas, Mason.”

“Yeah. You too.” He held her gaze for a long moment, his stormy gray eyes unreadable, before he looked away abruptly, shoving his fingers through his hair. “I hope you’re still not expecting a fucking gift.”

“I don’t need one. That isn’t what this is about.”

Mason walked over to a corner of the waist-high wall along the edge of the roof and leaned against it, fishing a cigarette out of his pocket. He stared out over the sleeping town, smoke curling lazily around him in the cold dark. Kira watched him, unable to look away; she’d never seen him so at ease, shoulders relaxed and a small smile on his lips that on anyone else she would have called sweet. Not for the first time, it made her wish she were an artist, so she could immortalize this moment. She settled for burning it into her memory instead.

He shifted a little under her stare, tensing for just a second, and then he surprised her by holding an arm out, beckoning her closer. She didn’t even hesitate.

She fit against his side like she was meant to be there, like they were made to fit together. Stupid, sentimental, but she didn’t fight the feeling this time or the strange warmth that settled in her chest at his proximity. Blame it on Christmas, on the twinkling fairy lights far below them, on the cold winter air that never quite intruded on their hideaway enough to force them back inside her apartment.

Leave it to Mason to ruin the moment. “I bet that tent’s big enough for two,” he said, voice low and sultry, close enough that his lips brushed the shell of her ear.

Kira blushed, her face going much redder than could be blamed on the cold. “We should probably go back inside,” she said, keeping her voice strong but unable to look him in the eye.

“Bed in there’s big enough for two as well.” He chuckled, and she knew the shiver down her spine couldn’t be blamed on the cold either. His arm, which had been casually wrapped around her waist, slid lower until his hand settled firmly on her hip. “Come on.”

Despite the flush on her cheeks, she followed him willingly toward the door, his arm still snugly around her. “I’m a bit disappointed in you, Mason,” she said, and though she could nowhere near match the kind of teasing tone he was capable of, she did a decent job of it.

His smirk said he agreed. “In what way?”

“No jokes about unwrapping my gift? About you being my Christmas present? Really.” She opened the door back into the warm apartment building. “I left the door wide open, but you never stepped through.”

-------

Three days later, Kira walked into her room at the warehouse to find a box on her pillow. It wasn’t wrapped; it wasn’t even a fancy box, just a simple brown box about the size of a pack of playing cards.

She opened it with a strange sense of trepidation and poured the contents into her hand. Inside was a plain gold ring on an equally plain black leather cord. She stared at it in confusion for several long moments before she realized what it was she was looking at. When she did, she collapsed onto the edge of her bed, her legs no longer able to support her weight.

She wasn’t surprised when she heard Mason’s voice from the door, but she didn’t look away from the ring. Couldn’t look away from the ring. “I found it after the fight with Murphy. After the medics took you away. Had it fixed and cleaned up. Thought you might want it back.”

“It,” her voice broke and she cleared her throat before she tried again. “It was my dad’s wedding ring.” She turned it slowly between her fingers, watching the light play off the warm gold band. “I thought I’d lost it. Mason…” she didn’t know what else she intended to say, so she just looked at him.

“You did. Lucky you’ve got me around to pick up after you.” He scowled at whatever he saw on her face. “If you start crying, I’m fucking leaving.”

Kira blinked hard, forcing the tears back before they could fall. When that didn’t work well enough, she crossed the room in three quick steps and wrapped Mason in a hug. She expected him to push her away, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled her flush against him, one hand sliding into her hair and cupping the back of her head in an almost protective way. They stayed that way for a long time, just clinging silently to each other in the open doorway.

“Thank you,” she said softly when she thought she could trust her voice. “I’m--I can’t--I--”

“Shh,” Mason said, barely more than a whisper, just enough to interrupt her. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”