#and now it needs to be auntie Nali and the twins time

[lady-assnali]

Omg.

That Denali and the twins on ice video added about 100 years to my life span it was just THAT good. 🥹

Denali marry me challenge

[lady-assnali]

We’re here I finished it and now you can have far too many words of Auntie Nali with another open plot to add to the list of things I’ve started and need to add parts to. ✌🏻

There’s Rosenali woven in here, of course, because why wouldn’t there be? We needed to add the twins to the teacher au instead of starting a new one because I’m not insane)

——

Denali’s on fire.

At least, that’s what it feels like. She’s not sure she’s ever felt this level of wanting, tucked up in the back of a cab with Rosé’s hands tracing patterns on her thigh. They’re both warm but not drunk, barely even tipsy after just a glass of wine with dinner after work. It had been a crazy week for them both, with art festivals and choir competitions and the general craziness of their high schoolers needing extra support in order to make it through the stress. They’d both taken on a bit more than they could handle, evident in all of the late nights spent in their respective classrooms, bursting through each other’s doors when the work became too cumbersome and a break was needed.

Celebrating had been a necessity, and a fancy dinner an absolute reward. They’d met after school, touching up makeup side-by-side in the bathrooms before leaving together. They’d sat at a candlelit table after walking to the restaurant, sharing bites of each other’s food and falling into their usual banter across the table. And then Rosé held her hand.

She held her hand through a majority of the meal, her thumb brushing across the top of Denali’s soft skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. She’d kissed her as they got up to leave, thanking the waitress and putting on their coats before heading back out into the night.

Rosé held her hand, ran her fingers along Denali’s arm. She kissed her tenderly outside of the restaurant until their Uber came, opened the door for her, brushed her hair from her cheek. Denali had been too entranced to ask questions, to stunned to let herself think about the consequences doing this again would have on her mental health. Everything felt alive, renewed, her mind only able to focus on the now of her friend’s hand teasing the bare skin of her waist.

She’s eager to bring Rosé up to her apartment by the time they arrive, glad that Rosé is the one who called. She would have forgotten to tip, or even to leave if it weren’t for gentle hands pulling her eagerly onto the sidewalk. Abandoning all reason she pushes herself against Rosé, backing her into the wall by the door with the speed of reckless abandon, taking control. She cups her cheeks and presses hungry, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, delighted when Rosé gasps beneath her.

“Upstairs,” She breathes, and it’s a fight for control right to her doorstep. Denali searches for her key with shaking hands, Rosé’s once featherlight touches becoming more demanding as they’ve come closer to privacy. She can’t get the key in, and it’s a fumble of hands over hands and muffled giggling as they finally get the door open, slamming it behind them before attaching to each other once more. In the three seconds Denali opens her eyes, her body becomes one giant shockwave. She tenses under Rosé’s touch as she looks eyes with her nieces, standing in the doorway with wide eyes and bemused smiles.

She lets out a string of Spanish that none of her company understand, finding meaning only in the rapid, biting pace and the way she frantically pushes herself away from Rosé. She’s shooting daggers at both of the young girls standing in her kitchen as she fixes her hair and her clothes, standing straight and in command.

“Don’t you have phones you’re constantly attached to? Phones with my number in them?”

The two younger girls stand dumbstruck in the middle of the kitchen, where Denali’s counter has been covered in snacks, phones, and her Bluetooth speaker. Phoebe holds a chip mid-air, lowering it back into the bag when faced with her aunt’s scrutiny. She shrugs.

“I mean….yeah.”

“But you also gave us a key.” Phoebe holds up a hand where the embellished key dangles from the key ring they’d been given, accompanied by a tiny Statue of Liberty keychain. Denali feels herself go through each stage of regret as her nieces stare back at her, whispering and giggling to themselves.

“I’m sorry, is our emergency interrupting you and your hot new girlfriend?”

“We can leave. Just throw us into the streets; so sad, so lonely…”

Denali casts a can you believe this glance toward Rosé, rolling her eyes affectionately before scooping both of the girls into her embrace.

“I’m very happy to see you.” She’s earnest only for a second before staring them down, eyes dark and searching. “These are my wonderful nieces, Roxxi and Phoebe. This is Rosé.”

The introduction is far less awkward to the three of them than it is to Denali, who feels the sudden urge to crawl out of her own skin. Rosé starts asking them questions and they answer politely. Roxxi’s eyelids flutter, and she stands with a hand on her hip until Denali clears her throat to interrupt.

“Does your mother even know that you’re here?” She asks pointedly. Phoebe steps back a bit, playing with the ends of her long blonde hair while her sister shrugs.

“Well, mom thinks we’re at a sleepover. Which…isn’t wrong...”

“You flew halfway across the country and you failed to tell your mother?”

“I mean. Is it lying or is it just not telling the whole truth?”

“Roxxi.”

“Don’t call mom.” Phoebe begs, butting in front of her sister with big, pleading eyes. Denali does not waver, rather gestures wildly with disbelief.

“I have to call her, I can’t just let her think you’re down the street!”

“Whatever. Just make sure she knows we’re not coming back for a few days.” Roxxi rolls her eyes, tapping idly on her phone. She’s sure they’ll be getting lashed out by their mom on the phone once their secret is exposed, but she also knows that they won’t have to go home; the damage is done. It’s the reason she convinced Phoebe to ask for forgiveness and not permission-this wouldn’t have worked any other way.

“Okay, okay.” Denali huffs. “I just-give me a few minutes? Go put your stuff away or something? The extra charger is in the nightstand.”

The girls wear matching smirks as they agree, very openly eyeing Rosé on their way to the guest bedroom. Roxxi lingers in the doorway, pointing noiselessly between the woman and her aunt while grinning wickedly, throwing her a thumbs up. Denali sends her one last dagger of a stare before turning. Rosé’s put her jacket back on, and it takes Denali a lot of inner patience not to send both of her darling nieces packing.

“It’s probably best if I go?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know they’d be here. Clearly, I had no idea.”

“Baby it’s ok, this is obviously something important.” Rosé pulls her in by both hands, their bodies pressed together from toes to foreheads. Cupping her cheek, she leaves her with a slow, languid kiss full of wanting that leaves Denali’s knees weak. “You know you can have me any time you want.”

Denali whines when Rosé pulls away but refuses another kiss, opting instead to squeeze her hand before gently pushing her with a wink.

“Get out of here. I’ve got kids to take care of.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Unless…”

“Sub.” Denali turns to the sound of the twins laughing from down the hall. She takes in a long, deep breath. “Definitely calling a sub.”

Roe chuckles.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll text you?”

“Please.”

She watches Rosé make her way down the hallway, ducking back into the doorway only when she’s made it to the elevator. Denali takes two deep breaths, pushing away the disappointment from having to end their night early. Things had been going so well, so wonderful. She’d planned to talk to Rosé tonight, to finally let everything out that had been weighing her down since they started playing this cat-and-mouse game. Now, she’s sure she won’t find that willpower for another few weeks at least.

But it’s her nieces; she’d lay down her life for them one hundred times over without so much as a question, had been willing to from the day they were born. She’d been young then, but having those two babies set in her lap had transformed that little piece of herself, kick-started every nurturing bone in her body. She’d been enamored with them from the start, heartbroken when their mother decided to move to California, so far away from their family. Of course, years later she fully understands the desire to leave, but she can’t help the resentment. They’d seen each other only on holidays and very occasionally in between since the girls were eight, and she’d lived so much of their childhoods with them through FaceTime calls and through cross country flights on sketchy, low-priced airlines. As teenagers, the girls come to see her nearly every school vacation and during the summer. Still, she’d missed so much.

Which is why they come first-they always come first. Although eager to spend the time with them, Denali closes her eyes in anticipation for the storm she’s sure awaits her once she fully enters her apartment.

To put it lightly, it’s a mess.

An array of snacks are spread along the counter, open bags of chips and salsa and cans of seltzer alongside grocery bags undoubtedly containing more. She immediately wonders how long they’ve been here; she hadn’t even come home between school and her dinner plans, agreeing with Rosé that the longer walk to the restaurant would be a great opportunity to get some much needed fresh air. And if they stopped to kiss at the crosswalks or held hands for a little bit, then neither of them said a word about it.

Yeah, that talk would have been nice.

Denali steps over the shoes discarded at the door and makes her way to the guest bedroom. Two light, rapidly speaking voices float down the hallway toward her, and although she knows she’ll probably be craving silence within the next twenty minutes she’s glad to hear them now. They can’t know that now, though. She has to get her point across first.

Hovering in the doorway, she watches as the girls flit across the room, fanning out her big blankets and rifling through their little suitcases while keeping their conversation to some social media influencer they’d both watched. It takes them a while to notice her, but when they do they immediately stop. She’s standing with one hand on the frame of the doorway, attempting to replicate her mother’s own disappointed turn of the lips. That had always worked on her as a child, but the same can’t be said for the girls. While Phoebe seems a bit off guard Roxxi merely gives Denali a wily smile, fluffing up a pillow in her hand. Denali forges on.

“Are you going to explain yourselves?”

“Are you going to explain what that was?” Denali’s eyes hit the ceiling and come back down in a huff. If only she could explain what that was. Instead, she lies through her teeth.

“That was two adults who are friends coming home after a nice little post-work dinner.”

“Yeah, okay. Like that wasn’t two very much in love adults getting ready to”

“-Alright, enough out of you.” They’re young, not stupid. But Roxxi’s clever redirection of the conversation won’t last her very long, and they both know it. Denali fully enters the room then, pulling the pillow from Roxxi’s hands and tossing it on the bed. She puts her hands on her hips in false intimidation. “Why are you here?”

“Well, y’know, it started off as a joke.”

“We really wanted to go to this concert, and there were no West Coast dates, and so we just thought…”

“-We thought our loving, fun, supportive aunt would be so happy to see us.”

Denali’s face twists in contemplation and a bit of disbelief. Both girls stare back at her, giving the answer as if they were explaining a trip to the store on the way home after school. She’d had her fair share of teenage antics, but they mostly included house parties or weekends in the mountains with friends. This is pretty far out of her realm of experience. It takes a moment for the plausibility of it all to actually sink in.

“You came here for a concert?”

Roxxi smiles, ignoring the impatience in her aunt’s tone.

“I mean, yeah.”

“We won’t be here very long, and we’ll stay out of your way.”

“I’m not worried about that. You know you never have to ‘stay out of my way.’ I’m really happy to see you. You girls are always welcome here. But you’re sure that’s the only reason?” She knows it’s not. Denali may have lost years being in their physical presence, but there’s something about the way her sweet, peaceful Phoebe is picking at her fingernails that reads as an omission of detail. After some contemplation they both shake their heads, Roxxi with a hand on her sister’s shoulder. They’re speaking their silent language again. Denali raises an eyebrow at them, lingering; one more chance for the whole truth. When neither budges she sighs, bringing each into a tender, nurturing embrace.

“You can stay here as long as you need to. I’m calling off work tomorrow and we can go out and see the city, make a day of it. You can catch me up on all the senior year drama. Sound good?”

Roxxi nods, then continues shuffling around the guest room. Before Denali can leave, Phoebe pulls her into another hug.

“Thank you,” the younger blonde squeezes her, and Denali can feel the tension stuck in her niece’s  body through the gesture. “I’m just really happy to be here.”

“My door’s always open, mi Azucar.” Pulling away, she smoothes out Phoebe’s hair while casting one last glance around the guest room, finally starting to get back in shape. Clothes are in the drawers, suitcases tucked in the bottom of the closet. Roxxi’s fumbling with her makeup bag, wrestling out a pack of wipes and gathering toiletries to bring to the shower. It’s chaos, but it’s right.

She leaves the door ajar to the girl’s request and heads back down the hallway, starting the task of picking up the long-forgotten snacks on the kitchen counter. She likes the noise in the house-the laughter, the chatting, even the shoes by the door. She’d forgotten what it was like to take care of something other than her dog, and the full, happy feeling is something she knows she’ll be analyzing long after the lights go out.

Her phone vibrates, then, a photo of Rosé cozy in bed pretending to sleep. Underneath, she’s written

“In a nice quiet house praying for your ears and your sanity.

Seriously, if you need anything I’ll be here.

And I’d really really like a rain check on tonight.”

She closes out the text with two pink hearts and Denali can’t ignore the giddy flip of her stomach, especially looking at Rosé’s pretty waves splayed across her pillow and her lips still slightly swollen.

Yeah, she’ll have to address that later too.