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eyeslikewatercoolers · 8 months ago

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Our Song (Lemyanka)

The first part of my Swiftie Writing Project is here!! I've only written this ship once before in a drabble, but I've been wanting to write more of them. Enjoy some cute fluff!

Read on ao3

I was ridin' shotgun with my hair undone

In the front seat of her car

She's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel

The other on my heart

Lemon could feel every slight bump in the road as she sat in the passenger seat. Priyanka’s hand-me-down used car was older than both of them combined. The air conditioning was broken and the battery was on the fritz, but it didn’t stop them from impromptu weekend road trips.

The teenagers were just returning from the movie theater, two towns over. The little Ontario town they lived in was more of a glorified village, so they had to travel to do anything fun.

Lemon listened to the radio as they passed the other cars. The windows were down and she felt the summer sun on her hair, making it appear blonder.

She let go of Priyanka’s hand to reach over to the radio dial, slowly turning it to the left. The music went quieter, causing her girlfriend to notice. Priyanka glanced at her for a moment, her head slightly turned.

“Baby, is something wrong?” she asked.

When Priyanka asked her, Lemon realized how stupid she was about to sound. But she was already too deep, so she might as well go for it.

“It’s nothing, I just kinda realized that we don’t have a song,” she said sheepishly.

Priyanka tilted her head in confusion as she changed lanes, “What do you mean? Do we have to have a song?” she pointed out. Her girlfriend had a point, it wasn’t something they needed to have to be in a relationship.

Lemon shrugged and turned the radio volume back up. Some music could maybe give her some inspiration.

Our song is the slamming screen door

Sneakin' out late, tapping on your window

When we're on the phone, and you talk real slow

'Cause it's late, and your mama don't know

Later that night, Lemon couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. The blonde gave up on trying to fight for sleep and peeked out her bedroom blinds to the neighbor’s house.

The only window that had a light on was the one at the end of the hallway. She grinned as she soon found her hoodie and Converse shoes in the dark.

Several minutes later, Lemon crossed the quiet street while looking out for any stray cars. Most of everyone in town was back home at this late hour.

She snuck through the rose bushes in front of Priyanka’s window, being careful of the thorns. Priyanka’s house was one of the nicest yards in the neighborhood, and Lemon did not want to ruin that.

Lemon got to the window and reached to carefully tap on the glass. She couldn’t be too loud and wake up the entire house. Piryanka’s parents were serious about getting enough sleep at night.

A pair of eyes peeked through the blinds before they were pulled up. Priyanka recognized Lemon in the light from her bedroom and opened the window.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a low voice.

“I couldn’t sleep, can you let me in?” the blonde asked.

Priyanka looked towards her bedroom door, and then back to her girlfriend, “Fine, just keep your voice down.”

Lemon would cringe as she would accidentally cause the back screen door to slam early the next morning, but sneaking back into her house was always worth more time with Priyanka.

I've heard every album, listened to the radio

Waited for something to come along

That was as good as our song

Lemon spent all day after getting home from school the next week listening to every playlist she had. All through the driving playlist, the homework playlist, and everything that Spotify recommended to her.

No song that felt like it was meant to be their song.

Priyanka wasn’t the one who was into finding what their song was, but that just made Lemon more determined. All their friends had found songs that fit their relationships, but Lemon felt that their song was still out there.

By the end of the week, Lemon was feeling like she was nearly giving up on finding a song. She reached the point of listening to her parent’s old CDs, but that wasn’t helping her search either.

She and Priyanka were going on another small road trip to the only mall in the area, that was over an hour away. She needed her sleep, even if that meant her search was over for the night.

Lemon shut her old laptop without bothering to shut it off. Putting it on the ottoman at the foot of her bed, she drifted off to a dreamless, uninspiring sleep.

I was ridin' shotgun with my hair undone

In the front seat of his car

I grabbed a pen and an old napkin

And I wrote down our song

“When is this road work going to be over?” Priyanka sighed as they pulled up to the long line of cars in front of them. The traffic reached a standstill as they were nearing the exit to get off the freeway.

Lemon glanced at the radio that was playing her usual driving playlist. She already listened to these songs all week as she was on a listless search for her and Priyanka’s songs. The blonde was growing bored of these songs that she’d listened to so many times.

With a swoop of her hand, Lemon took her phone off the aux cord. The car turned to sudden silence, with only the sound of the engine keeping them company.

Priyanka looked at her in surprise, “What was that for?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. She glanced between Lemon and the phone that was still in her hand.

Lemon looked at the radio again, “Why don’t we find a radio station to listen to? I’ve been listening to these songs literally all week, it's not even funny.”

“Are you still trying to find our song?” Priyanka asked as she pressed the power button on the radio dial. All they heard was an angry white noise until Priyanka found the search button to find a station.

As the traffic pulled up, Lemon searched through the different stations. She found the top 40, gospel, folk songs, and classic rock. At the higher end of the FM stations, she found a station playing popular songs from the 90’s and 2000’s.

During the rest of the car ride, Lemon sang her heart out with Priyanka by her side. Backstreet Boys, Destiny’s Child, and then to Spice Girls filled the car as they made their way to the mall. As Priyanka found a good parking spot during the middle of a Britney Spears classic, an idea suddenly hit Lemon.

She pulled open the glovebox, searching through the insurance cards and owner’s manual. At the bottom of the papers, she found an old napkin with a Taco Bell logo on it. She found a pen that originally came from a nearby bank off the floor, and clicked it.

“Are you writing a list?” Priyanka asked as she shut off the car.

“No, I’m gonna write our song,” Lemon said as she tested the pen on her hand.

Priyanka rolled her eyes playfully, “Can you write it after we go to the sale at Zara?”

Lemon laughed as she put the napkin and pen on the dusty dashboard. “C’mon, you dork,” she said before they both left the car, holding hands as they walked inside.

#lemyanka #my writing #rpdr fanfiction #cdr1 #my fics #swiftie writing project

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sweetestberryofthebunch · 1 year ago

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This is the only thing on this website that matters.

I’m going to build us a table (Lemyanka)

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Chapter two: Winter

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

Lemon remembered most of the wedding.

She remembered the gorgeous venue and the chandeliers like constellations on the ceiling, shining fragmented on Lemon’s gold dress and Priyanka’s matching bracelets, and on the crystal glasses that never left their hands.

She remembered the constant chatter and catching up with dozens of people, but not a single word of what had been said. She remembered the bubbling joy, the smiles on everyone’s faces, the happy couple lost in their own world.

She remembered laughing and drinking and dancing for hours (her sore muscles sure did), her dress riding up her thighs when she moved, and Priyanka’s eyes following.

She remembered the great food and even better wine they found at the very end, the stumbling steps up the terrace, the cool night air on her flushed neck, the soft music, the bright moonlight shining behind Priyanka’s black hair like a halo.

And she definitely remembered Priyanka bragging about her drunk cooking skills, and herself not believing a word of it. She still didn’t, but dumplings did sound good. Plus, Lemon had agreed to make dinner, and what better way to get out of that than appealing to Priyanka’s ego? Either Priyanka would fail spectacularly and admit Lemon was right, or they would have dumplings. Win-win.

So that evening, like a good stand-in housewife, Lemon bought her weight in groceries and too much prosecco and welcomed Priyanka home from work at the door, with a full glass and a challenge.

Priyanka, predictably, jumped at the chance to prove herself (and prove Lemon wrong). She took the glass from Lemon’s hand and downed it in one go on her way to the kitchen. She rolled up her sleeves, tied up her hair and cracked her knuckles like she was getting ready for battle instead of kneading dough. She looked over her shoulder and fixed Lemon with a smile.

“Watch and learn, princess.”

Lemon perched herself on her usual spot on the counter to chat and distract and fill Priyanka’s glass, making sure she was drunk enough for it to be a real challenge. Flour soon found its way onto Priyanka’s clothes, the floor and Lemon’s nose, whenever she annoyed Priyanka enough.

Out in the world, Priyanka moved through life like a giraffe right after a growth spurt, all long limbs and boundless energy. But in the easy quiet of their own kitchen, knife in hand, she moved with the precision of a surgeon. Strands of hair got loose from her ponytail and she kept blowing them out of her face without looking up from the dough forming within her hands. Lemon pushed them behind her ears for her, and watched them fall again.

The wine settled in a pool of warmth in Lemon’s stomach and made her lean back placidly on the wall over the counter, enjoying the cold of the tiles on her fire-flushed skin. Music reached them from the living room from the mellow playlist in one of their phones.

She was happy.

Work had been greedily keeping Priyanka after hours, chewing her up and spitting her out to tumble home in the late hours. It felt like a victory to have her girl back, chatty and cheerful after shedding her professional mask at the door. Sure, Lemon thought the blazers were hot, but she preferred this version of Priyanka. Messy hair, goofy smiles and her favorite apron on. She could have watched Priyanka all night.

And thank God, because the food was taking for fucking ever. The same girl who couldn’t keep a conversation on track for more than five minutes was now hunched over their counter with laser focus, bent on making exactly eighteen folds in each teeny tiny dumpling.

Lemon listened to her blabber on and on about perfect dough texture and golden ratios while her own stomach rumbled. When she tried to take another sip of wine, she found her glass empty and whined in frustration.

“God, Pri, I’m starving,” she complained. “Can’t you just fold the rest like tortellinis and save the Fibonacci shit for when you’re on Top Chef?”

“I should go on Top Chef…” Priyanka whispered with the wise tone of drunken epiphanies. “But no. You wanted dumplings, you’re getting dumplings.” She tried to shut Lemon’s complaints with her hand covered in flour and Lemon batted her away giggling. “Now shut up and let me focus. Also you were supposed to be doing something,” she said, waving her empty glass. “Where’s my wine, bitch?”

Lemon groaned and slid off the counter, stumbling forward a few steps and catching herself on their kitchen table. The wood groaned under her weight as she steadied herself and waited for the room to come back into focus. She had felt sober up on the counter, but dropping down had apparently swished all the wine in her system and flooded her brain. In her slippery fuzzy socks, she walked carefully towards the fridge.

The cold air of the freezer clung to Lemon’s skin and she retrieved the bottle of wine quickly, shivering. With a knife, she hacked at the silver wrapping to free the plastic cork and then tried to pry it open with the blunt side of the blade. It wouldn’t give. Lemon huffed and threw the knife on the counter, then held the bottle between her thighs, grabbed the cap with her bare hand and pulled.

On the counter, Priyanka’s hands fell idle as she watched the display. Lemon huffed and grunted, and the arms of her muscles tensed up and strained with the effort. Priyanka blinked once, twice, and went back to the food she’d forgotten, but she only managed to pick up her knife before Lemon yelped.

With one last pull, the bottle had popped open and was now spurting onto the floor, on Lemon’s hand and down her arm as she lifted the bottle and ran to the sink. Priyanka scream-laughed and clinked her glass under the pouring bottle to catch some of the overflow, and when that was full, she stood with her mouth open under the bottle like it was a broken beer tap, coughing and spurting out wine, with Lemon doubled over with laughter on the counter and barely holding onto the bottle.

The flow of wine died down with their drunk giggles. When she recovered her breath, Priyanka turned on the sink’s faucet to wash up her face, and handed Lemon a dish towel that went ignored. Wine was still dripping from Lemon’s left hand down her forearm, so she licked a long stripe up her skin, pressed her tongue on the beating pulse in her wrist, and took a long swig of the bottle. She put it down, empty, and found Priyanka’s eyes fixed on her.

“What?” she asked, self-consciously touching her face.

Priyanka shook her head and snapped out of whatever that was. Her hands gripped the counter and she looked down at the food in confusion. Maybe Lemon had gotten her drunk, after all.

In the chaos, Priyanka’s ponytail had been almost undone, and most of her hair framed her face. Lemon washed her arms under the faucet, then stepped behind Priyanka. With careful hands, she tugged off the hair band and gathered Priyanka’s hair, grazing her skin, flushed from working at the stove.

Lemon tied the hair up and left the back of Priyanka’s neck bare. From some corner of Lemon’s mind, a well contained need to kiss her slipped out and took over all of her thoughts, her hands, her lips…

“You wanna— can you set the table?” Priyanka whispered.

Lemon’s hands dropped.

She nodded and swallowed hard, getting plates and leaving them by Priyanka’s side in silence. Priyanka was entirely focused on the food again, which gave Lemon the space she needed to calm down. She felt feverishly hot, in spite of the harsh autumn night scratching their windows, threatening to come in. Lemon went around the living room lighting candles under the windows. They flickered against the pitch black darkness that crept in from outside, in spite of the early hour. Winter was close.

Away from Priyanka and her fires, Lemon shivered again. She picked up their glasses and skipped the kitchen table in favor of the couch. From the linen closet, she dug out old blankets that could handle some food spills and built a nest for them.

When she had set the coffee table, Lemon went back to Priyanka’s side to watch the final step. Priyanka lightly tapped Lemon’s belly to make her step back, and poured water on the hot pan of oil. The oil splattered and cracked loudly as steam swirled around them until Priyanka covered the pan with a lid. She gladly accepted the full glass of wine that Lemon got from the bottle they still had, thank God, and then sent Lemon to relax on the couch and wait until dinner was ready.

Lemon huddled under the blankets. She sipped her drink and followed Priyanka’s movements around their kitchen. Her shoulders were relaxed and if Lemon strained her ears, she could catch the low hum of a song from her lips. She looked at ease, for the first time in a long time.

The wine had finally settled in Lemon’s stomach and she had a nice buzz going on. From the way Priyanka stumbled as she carried the plates to the living room, she knew she was not alone. Fearing for their food and their couch, Lemon got up to help. She traded the warmth of her blankets for a hot plate of food, and her hands seeped the heat gratefully.

The dumplings looked perfect, golden and sprinkled with spring onions and sesame seeds. Lemon immediately tried to stuff her mouth. Impatience made her burn her tongue twice before Priyanka threatened to take the food away if she couldn’t wait.

Lemon blew on a dumpling until steam stopped coming out, and took a more cautious bite. She tore the dough and the filling burst on her tongue, flavorful and rich. She had to hold back an outright moan from how good it was, but she couldn’t let Priyanka know. There was still an argument to win. She feigned indifference as she dipped the second half in the little ceramic bowl of dipping sauce that Priyanka had whipped up and set on Lemon’s plate. Between bites, their chopsticks tapped an erratic beat on the ceramic and joined the melody of ice clinking in their glasses and the noise from the TV that they ignored completely, too caught up in their debate.

“So I’m not a chef,” Lemon said, “but I’d argue that the shape of the dumpling is a crucial element of its dumpling-ness, right?” Lemon said, poking one of the few that had reached her plate open and spilling their contents. “So would you call this a success?”

“You swallowed nine in three minutes,” Priyanka said, swirling her chopsticks on the trails of sauce on Lemon’s almost empty plate. “I think you’ve lost all credibility here, baby.”

Lemon huffed, but there was no real fight in her. The food had been excellent, like it always was. Very gracefully, she accepted defeat.

“I guess you were right this time, or whatever.”

“Nu-uh, not enough,” Priyanka said with an insufferable smile. “You need to say the whole thing”

Lemon let out a long sigh. Priyanka waited, unfazed.

“Fine,” Lemon grumbled, sitting up and raising her glass. “All hail Priyanka and her correct opinions of today, and tomorrow, and forever!”

And maybe Priyanka’s dumb grin was worth the amount of bragging Lemon would have to suffer through over the next few weeks. Maybe she had gotten exactly what she wanted out of the challenge. As much as she liked winning, that victory night looked like Priyanka’s shoulders finally losing the tension they had been carrying for weeks, ever since the word “promotion” was dangled in front of Priyanka and the six other junior associates at the firm, like bait for starving hyenas. Long hours, extra shifts and bags under her eyes had been an everyday staple since then. Some days, Lemon only saw Priyanka before breakfast, now that her insanely early mornings rivaled Lemon’s. Every day, Priyanka got back home strung up and exhausted, getting worse in a place beyond Lemon’s reach.

So she couldn’t help Priyanka there, but she could give her this. One night of caving midweek, getting drunker than they’d ever been in their apartment on a Tuesday night, ignoring that they both had early mornings the next day.

Plates empty and discarded on the table, they huddled closer under the blankets. With full stomachs, the weight of the day finally settled in their bones. Lemon couldn’t stop yawning and Priyanka had a hard time keeping her eyes open. Still, neither left. They stayed up late, huddled close, trading stories in whispers in spite of the empty house.

In an attempt to cover herself, Lemon dropped the blanket off her shoulder to the floor just out of her reach. She shivered from the frigid air, and then from the startling heat of Priyanka’s hands on her shoulders, pulling her closer. She called her without words to lay on her chest, then covered them both with her blanket.

Lemon breathed slowly. Priyanka smelled like their laundry detergent and the expensive perfume she wore to work every day, which had started to spread over Lemon’s own clothes and even her bedsheets. Some days, Priyanka would get home from work and drop down on Lemon’s bed before even taking off her blazer, pressing her tired eyes to the pillow and laying silently for a while. She needed a moment away from the world, and always picked Lemon’s room to rest. She would repay the kindness in moments like this, letting Lemon rest on her chest and get covered in her scent.

Lemon felt the impulse to kiss Priyanka’s collarbone and curved it by nuzzling her neck. They were too close for the stutter in Priyanka’s breathing to go unnoticed.

On nights like that night, warm, joyful nights of having Priyanka all to herself, Lemon craved more. And some nights, when Priyanka brought her closer to rest on her body and be in her space, when her breathing changed every time Lemon moved, she wondered if her hopes were as unfounded as they felt the rest of the time.

But morning brought clarity, and the slivers of hope died in the sunlight. They already shared a home and a bond that was more important than Lemon could put into words, and she would not risk it by being greedy.

Priyanka’s breathing evened out, and Lemon's soon followed. The light of the silent TV flickered over their sleeping forms. They didn’t let go until the morning.

_________________________________________________________

Winter fogged up the windows and creeped under the front door with the draft. It frosted the grass, it snowed on the street. The novelty of Fall faltered and leaving the bed became herculean; leaving the house, tortuous. The cold weighed heavy on their bones and every chore became harder. The exciting new recipes were put to the side in favor of old trusted staples. Priyanka filled their biggest pots with rich stews, and simmered kitchen scraps into broth. Lemon brewed pot after pot of coffee and tea to warm up their stomachs and hands, and empty mugs showed up scattered around the house in pairs, forgotten on bookshelves and nightstands.

On the coldest days, Lemon and Priyanka would huddle on the kitchen floor and eat their meals in front of the oven, letting the flame burn a little longer. It felt like their house got condensed to that golden space in the kitchen, spice in the air, steam swirling around them. They’d set the empty plates to the side and sit close on the floor, just a short respite before moving on with their day, a small pocket of warmth.

When Priyanka got home particularly late, bone tired and soaked through from the snow, she would find dinner on the stove. Those nights, Lemon waited for her curled up on the couch next to her best friend, the portable space heater that followed her around the house, leaving a trail of extension cords wrapped around the furniture. Wherever she was, Lemon carried her stubborn little houseplant with her, making sure to leave it near the heat. And Priyanka mocked her for it, because that’s what they did, but her heart melted when she saw Lemon trying to give the plant creature comforts and protect it from the onslaught of winter. After all, the plant survived year after year, so Lemon must have been doing something right.

Sometimes snow and sometimes hail rattled the windows. Rain poured down and the wind howled like wolves, threatening to bring the whole house down. Lemon’s heart stuttered wildly, but Priyanka just turned her music louder and took Lemon’s hand to make her spin around their living room, sliding in their fuzzy socks. In lieu of a fireplace, they had candles, and old towels to cram under the doors and stop the drafts. They braved the outside in their best winter coats, stocked up on soup and tea and chocolate, and rushed home to cuddle under blankets and make enough heat to haul them over the season.

_________________________________________________________

“I promise, mum, I’m sleeping enough!”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Camilla’s voice came through the crackly speakers on Lemon’s laptop.

“Rude. Do I have eyebags?” Lemon checked herself on the square of the video call.

“A little, but you sound tired too, baby. You never call these days, and when you do you’re always rushing somewhere.”

“Is this a hint to call you more often?”

“I’ll never say no to more calls, you know that,” Camilla laughed. “But I’m starting to worry about you. You’re both so busy. When’s the last time you two did something just for fun?”

Camilla tended to do that, talk about her and Priyanka like they came in pairs. She wasn’t that wrong.

“We just went to a wedding.”

“That was two months ago. See? You’re losing it.”

Lemon rolled her eyes.

“You know how it is this time of year.”

“I know, I know, I remember. Performance season is hell on earth for dancers and their loved ones. How is Priyanka handling that, by the way? I could give her tips.”

Keys jingled at the door and Lemon twisted around on the couch to see her come in.

“Speak of the devil.”

“I’m back!” Priyanka yelled, like Lemon was not sitting three feet from the door.

“Hi, honey!” Camilla greeted as loud as the laptop allowed.

“Is that your mom?” Priyanka grinned and proceeded to climb over the back of the couch like a toddler, plopping down next to Lemon and pushing her out of the frame. “Hi, Camilla! Thank you so much for the care package, we loved it! Look.” She pushed back her hair to show off the earrings Camilla had sent her a few days ago, packed in a huge box with fun knick knacks and enough candy to last them until spring.

“Oh, it was nothing! Did you like the candied figs?”

“Those didn’t last us a day,” Lemon said, pushing Priyanka to make room for herself.

“How are you doing, you fancy lawyer?”

“Busy as ever,” Priyanka said, smiling bright as anything. “But good, it’s been so good. Did Lemon tell you she’s been cooking more? That’s a nice side effect of all the extra hours.”

“A side effect? I’d call it a miracle,” said Camilla, amazed. “She couldn’t even make tea when she lived here.”

“Oh my God, yes I could,” Lemon protested, over the sound of her mother and best friend laughing at her expense. “I just liked yours better.”

“Now isn’t that a nice way to get out of helping.”

“I know, right?” Priyanka sympathized. “She’s still doing that. ‘Oh, Pri, I could totally make this two ingredient salad myself, but yours is so much better.’”

“And you fall for it every time,” Lemon bragged. Priyanka rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t disagree. “Oh, you wanted the recipe,” Lemon said.

“The reci– oh, yeah! The recipe,” she turned to Camilla. “I’m making feijoada for the first time. My family doesn’t make it, and Lemon says yours is good.”

“Just good? I’m a little offended,” Camilla joked. “Grab a pen and paper, hon, I’ll give you our recipe.”

The next twenty minutes were a lesson on cheap pork cuts and the merits of black beans over white ones. Priyanka hung on every word and jotted everything down with the same diligence she displayed when studying a court case. Next to her, Lemon completely checked out of the conversation until the topic changed.

“Oh, thank God, are you two done being old grandmas?”

“More respect to your mother, Luana.”

“Yeah, Luana,” Priyanka smirked. “Respect your mother.”

“Suck up,” Lemon mouthed.

Priyanka planted a noisy kiss on Lemon’s cheek and jumped up from the couch.

“Alright, I gotta get out of this blazer. I smell like the subway. Bye, Camilla, thank you for everything!”

“Bye, honey! Send me pictures, if you use the recipe.”

“Will do.”

She waved at the screen and headed for her room, Lemon’s eyes following her until the door was shut.

“Deus…” came from the laptop.

Lemon blinked off the daze and focused back on her mom.

“Huh? What did you say?”

“No, nothing. So, tell me about this new theater, is it nice?”

Lemon got lost in praising the new stage and its better acoustics, the spacious changing rooms and newer reflectors. So lost, she didn’t once catch the knowing smile on her mom’s face.

_________________________________________________________

Lemon got home earlier than expected. Too early for it to mean good news.

Priyanka took one look at her slumped shoulders, her dark eyes, and got up from the couch.

“I'll put the kettle on.”

They sat on the couch with mugs burning their thighs. Lemon didn’t talk, just stirred the spoonful of honey in her tea for too long, the clinking loud in the silence.

Priyanka didn’t break it. She didn’t say there’ll be other roles. She didn’t say they don't know what they’re missing, although she truly believed that. She just scorched her lips on the mug, and waited.

Sundown passed. The tea went cold in Lemon’s hands.

“I didn’t get it.”

Priyanka knew that. Lemon wasn’t saying it for her sake. She was weighing the words on her tongue, seeing if they felt lighter. Fear of the name, and all that.

Lemon tried her cold tea and swallowed her grimace.

“This is good.”

Priyanka smiled, rolled her eyes and stood up, taking the mugs with her. She put hers in the sink and Lemon’s in the microwave and returned it steaming to Lemon’s grateful hands.

“Thank you,” Lemon said, her smile bleary.

Priyanka looked down at Lemon. Her sunken cheeks, her worry lines, the bags under her eyes, Priyanka wanted to fix them all. With clumsy fingers, she brushed some fallen strands from Lemon’s face and soothed her furrowed brow with her thumb. Lemon’s eyes fluttered close and Priyanka leaned down and before she knew what she was doing, she was kissing her forehead.

Lemon blinked at her, curious. Priyanka didn’t have any answers for her, so she sat back on the couch and laid her hand between their bodies in case… in case it was needed, maybe.

“Wanna hear something funny?”

Priyanka nodded.

“Nadine got the second lead.”

Priyanka wanted to be serious, give the situation the solemnity it deserved, but, well. She’d never been strong against Lemon’s deadpan tone. Her cheeks puffed up, laughter escaped and soon she was cackling with her whole chest, Lemon following suit. The noise cracked the silence that had been built, and the house felt like their home again.

“Is this where your stalker behavior finally escalates into murder?”

“Nah. She did a great job, she deserved it. I kind of… told her that,” Lemon shuddered. “I may have complimented her, I don’t know, it all happened so fast.”

Priyanka rolled her eyes at Lemon’s faux disgust.

“Just date her already.”

Lemon smiled and gripped her mug tighter as her eyes flickered towards Priyanka. She grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels until she found a half-started movie that looked vaguely interesting.

They stayed until the credits rolled and the honey loosened Lemon’s tongue.

“There’ll be other roles,” she said.

“Mhm.”

“And I will get them another time.”

“Yes, you will.”

The ending of one movie led to the start of another. Although they were barely paying attention, neither stood up. Lemon had taken Priyanka’s hand, leaving her anchored to the sofa.

Night covered the house. They stayed in the darkness broken only by the light of the screen, the cold battled only with their intertwined hands. Lemon had tired eyes and the lure of a peaceful night after so many long days of practice. Priyanka had a hand in hers, and a love so abundant that it could only fit in a mug of tea and honey.

_________________________________________________________

The oven door screeched closed, in spite of Priyanka’s best efforts. She strained to hear any noise from Lemon’s bedroom.

Nothing.

Her body sagged, relieved. Lemon normally slept like the dead, but as the hours passed, Priyanka’s movements had gotten clumsier and louder and it was a miracle that Lemon hadn’t stormed into the kitchen to yell at her for making noise at three in the morning.

Priyanka left the tray of muffins over the stove. One of the trays. Three more were cooling off under the window sill. She started unmolding them onto teetering piles on a platter that she managed to wedge in the crowded counter, between used bowls and whisks, over drippings of batter and white streaks of powdered sugar. Blue and yellow icing sat patiently in their bowls, but the pink one had spilled and stained Priyanka’s forearms, and she was spreading it everywhere without noticing.

Her eyes burned and her arms trembled, but sleep wasn’t an option. The mental noise that had pulled her out of bed kept her tied to the counter, needing to get her hands on something, anything to stop thinking.

She sensed Lemon before she heard her.

“Pri?”

She nodded in acknowledgement, not looking away from her task.

“Are you sleep-baking?” Lemon asked, sounding half asleep herself.

“Stress-baking. Can’t sleep.”

Lemon’s soft steps approached her. Priyanka glanced to the side and saw her scanning the counter with a furrowed brow, rubbing her eyes under her crooked glasses. She looked like she would fall over any moment. Guilt settled in Priyanka’s stomach next to the vague nausea from being awake so late.

“I’ll clean up soon, I just gotta…” she gestured at the trays.

But Lemon didn’t seem annoyed, about the mess or the late hour. She just stepped closer and leaned on Priyanka’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna tell me why we’re doing this at three am?”

Priyanka shook her head. She tried to unmold another muffin, but her hand trembled and broke it in half. Irrational anger bubbled up in her chest. She wanted to slam the whole tray against the wall, but Lemon was resting peacefully on her shoulder. Priyanka counted to ten, and kept going.

“Pri…” Lemon started. Priyanka bristled at the soft tone, like she had to be approached like a wild animal. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

“I can’t.”

“We can watch a movie.”

Priyanka just shook her head again. Lemon pulled at the hem of her shirt.

“Whatever it is, we can solve it tomorrow–”

“No, we can’t!” Priyanka lashed out. “You can’t fix this, Lemon. You don’t decide if I get the promotion, or a raise, or if I’ll even have a job next year. So no, we can’t solve this tomorrow.”

Her voice echoed in the too quiet kitchen.

Lemon’s eyes widened.

Priyanka immediately regretted it.

“I can’t go to sleep, okay?” she tried again, in a quieter voice.

Lemon nodded, slowly.

They stood in the awkward silence. But before Priyanka could try to apologize, Lemon was rolling up her sleeves and grabbing one of the trays.

Priyanka stared. Lemon just raised an eyebrow at her. Pri gave her a half smile and kept going.

They popped muffin after muffin out of the molds. Priyanka managed to steady her hands and not break any more.

“I’m sorry I yelled.”

“I know.”

They worked side by side, arms brushing, legs wobbling from tiredness. The task was so repetitive that when Priyanka’s eyes closed, her hands kept going on muscle memory alone. Her trance was only broken when Lemon swept all the used bowls into the sink to make room for more plates.

When they were done, Priyanka stood up on the counter to riffle through their baking supplies, coming down with every jar of edible glitter they had. They let their tired bodies slide down to the floor and took the plates and the bowls with them.

“Here,” Priyanka dipped the top of a muffin in blue icing. It came out with a perfect clean edge. She set it down on a platter and gestured at Lemon to do the same.

Lemon grabbed a muffin and immediately dropped it in the icing. She fished it out and frowned, confused. It was dripping blue.

“I broke it,” she mumbled.

“Use the glitter,” Priyanka mumbled as she slumped back on the door under the sink. “Glitter fixes everything.”

Lemon dusted the little blue lump in silver sparkles. It did help.

The next fifteen minutes felt like arts and crafts at kindergarten. They were sticky, covered in glitter and in dire need of a nap. At least they had cute muffins.

Lemon grabbed the prettiest one. She almost bit into it, but stopped herself.

“These are dairy free, right?”

Priyanka fixed her with a stare. Duh.

Lemon beamed through the sleepiness and happily munched on the treat, until something crunched between her molars.

“Ugh,” she complained. “It’s time we give up on edible glitter. Yeah, it’s pretty, but at what cost?”

When Priyanka didn’t react, Lemon dipped her finger in icing and swiped a stripe across her cheek. Priyanka gave her a tired smile. With no task at hand, the late hour was finally dawning on her. She was coming down from a three hour panic and her whole body hurt. Looking around their kitchen, she took stock of the damage.

“What are we gonna do with six dozen muffins?”

She was seriously asking, but Lemon dissolved into giggles. Priyanka watched, amused, until she also started laughing. It was so late.

“We could drop some off at my sister’s. We haven’t seen Lily in ages.”

Lemon hummed in agreement.

“I could take some to work,” she added, dipping half a muffin in icing and stuffing her mouth. “I bet you that bitch Nadine will brag about not eating sugar or flour.”

The pure hatred on Lemon’s face paired with the bit of icing on her nose made Priyanka feel so stupidly endeared. She rubbed off the icing with her sleeve, making Lemon scrunch her nose. Priyanka wrapped her arm around Lemon’s shoulders and pulled her close.

Outside, in the pitch black, some brave birds had started singing. Priyanka knew she should drag herself and Lemon to bed, but she was tired and it was so cozy next to the oven, in the warm light of the kitchen with Lemon tucked under her arm. Five more minutes, she bargained.

“You’re gonna be fine. You know that, right?”

Lemon’s voice was soft and steady on Priyanka’s chest.

“How do you know that?”

Lemon straightened up and gave her an easy smile, shrugging.

“Because you’re Priyanka,” she said, like that was enough.

Priyanka stared into her eyes. Maybe, for Lemon, it was.

“Okay,” she finally said. “Okay. I believe you.”

Lemon smiled, satisfied.

“And if all else fails,” she said, “we quit our jobs. Open a bakery.”

The ‘we’ rippled in Priyanka’s chest. It was only a joke, but she had no doubt that Lemon would follow her to the end of the world.

She knew that, because she would do the same for Lemon.

Priyanka looked at her best friend and, suddenly, through the fog of tiredness, saw her clearer than ever.

The crooked glasses she only ever let Priyanka see, her eyes so bright and awake even in the late hour. Her gorgeous half smile, always teasing and always inviting Priyanka to be in on the joke, even when she was the butt of it.

Priyanka loved her. She would do anything for her.

And she really, really wanted to kiss her.

No trumpets announced her epiphany. There was no light change, no switch in the music score. Priyanka had been blazing through life for years, maybe forever, and in a rare moment of stillness, she looked around and found herself where she was. Sitting with Lemon on the floor of their shared home, reaching out for a comfort she never doubted she’d find, and deeply, unmistakably in love with her best friend.

The moment she saw it, it was ingrained in her bones. Of course she was in love with Lemon. And the moon followed the sun, and the sky was blue.

“Lemon,” she leapt before she could second guess.

Lemon must have seen something in Priyanka’s expression, because she tensed up. She was bracing herself. Priyanka didn’t soften the blow with a half truth, because that was not what they did.

“Lem, I want to kiss you,” she said, voice quiet to soothe her own nerves. “Is that– can I kiss you?”

“At three am?” Lemon asked, doubtful, her voice small and so foreign and maybe a signal that Priyanka should drop it before they got burned. She was giving Priyanka an out, and Priyanka couldn’t take it but she could extend the same courtesy.

“Want me to wait until morning?”

She could wait a day. She could wait forever.

Lemon pondered it for all of two seconds and then confidence returned to her face like it had never left. Priyanka loved her to pieces.

“No.” Lemon rose to her knees and leaned forward, a hand on Priyanka’s shoulder. “No, I don’t wanna wait.”

She tasted like sugar.

Priyanka’s hands moved faster than her tired mind. They pulled Lemon into her lap and slid careful fingers under her shirt, seeking warmth but making Lemon shiver. The weight on her lap was a comfort, the heat was a relief, Lemon’s mouth was a miracle. Priyanka had to dig her fingertips in the soft flesh of Lemon’s hips to feel she was real, it was all real.

They parted, breathing a little heavily, unable to look away. Priyanka let out a breath that was half giggle, and Lemon followed her lead with quiet laughter. Then, she groaned, hiding her face on Priyanka’s neck.

“What?” Priyanka asked, still smiling and pressing kisses on Lemon’s hairline, because she wanted to, because she could. “What’s wrong?”

“Rosé is gonna be insufferable.”

Priyanka blurted out laughter and followed her need to kiss Lemon another hundred times.

Their legs eventually protested against the hard floor. Priyanka tried to stand up carrying Lemon and the both tumbled down. Obviously.

Lemon left the embrace to put away the jars of glitter before they were trampled under their feet and they had an even bigger crisis. Priyanka tried to do some of the dishes, but her hands were so spent and cramped that she dropped the sponge three times before Lemon dragged her away to get ready to sleep, tempting her with kisses and a warm bed.

Priyanka followed her gladly. The kitchen could wait.

#fic rec #brb i have to go CRY OVER MY OWN LONELINESS #lemyanka

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