#d...do u think that there's beer in his coffee mug

[miiaoq]

The Front Bottoms // The Pageant STLMO 9/25/24

[myelocin]

To Us, A Love Story Unwritten | Kuroo T., Miya A.

Hello!! Before you begin reading, THIS STORY IS A PART TWO to Redefining You , which I highly recommend you read first because a lot of things are connected! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue | Bonus

Synopsis: Time away from Tetsurou leads you to the serendipity that is Miya Atsumu. 

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou, You, Miya Atsumu

Genre/Warnings/Tags: None! Angst,  HEALING, Hurt & Comfort, surfer!Atsumu, tattooed!Kuroo, Fluff

WC: 7600+

a/n: here’s a word dump of my feelings bcos i made an oopsie and projected real ppl in 2d characters again

*playlist if u want maximum feelies: Blue (Elina), Miles Apart (Nick Wilson)

-

The thought of healing didn’t cross your mind until some months later.

In the mornings after that morning, you stood in your balcony, leaning against the railing with a mug of coffee, your thoughts wandering. Sometimes you thought of what kind of coffee you liked, and other times you caught yourself wondering how Tetsurou moved through his six AMs. Morning thoughts were reserved for the things you prefer to keep out of your head during the day. Tetsurou, of course, had always been an exception. He somehow always flowed in your train of thought whether the numbers on your watch flashed 3am or 3pm.

Or now, you thought after taking a quick peek at the time in your phone, 6:19 AM; all you could think about was how sad his golden eyes looked against the black of Tokyo’s backdrop.

Tetsurou making his way into your thoughts has always how it’s been for almost a decade, and habits are a little hard to break. At least, that’s what you say to reason with yourself.

Thinking back to your words that night, the “I love you” just kind of slipped out. But you know you meant it. Shifting your wrist to the side, you studied the tattoo again, then closed your eyes to remember the expression on your best friend’s features.

You meant the I love you, you told yourself again. Towards yourself that was for sure; towards Tetsurou.

And that’s always going to be the case, taunted the voice in the back of your head.

After that night, Tetsurou had broken up with his long term girlfriend for good. Though he didn’t necessarily ruin himself over the breakup—there were changes.

He still texted you at odd hours to show you a video he thought was funny, still showed up to your apartment for movie nights, and more or less was still present. But it was during the particularly sentimental scenes in the movie where he’d choose to refill the popcorn or grab another soda, and you could see that his can was still half full. You noticing that Tetsurou always chose to pick the other boba shop that was on the other side of town never flew past you either. You knew that that was the shop he always used to take her after classes—so even seeing how his hands never failed to tighten against the steering wheel when the two of you would drive by, you always pretended not to notice. Even though four months had passed, you know that for him, the wound was still fresh.

And remembering how sad he looked that night, you couldn’t help yourself to feel for his pain. At the end of the day, weren’t you just two people who yearned for the love that couldn’t be yours?

So you sigh and take a sip of coffee from the mug; it had grown a little cold. The digital clock on your phone read 6:31 AM next to a text from Tetsurou asking if you had time for lunch later.

Replying a quick ‘yep. meet u at the usual :)’, did nothing for you trying to have a more productive day off today and thus the morning felt a little slower than normal, so you sigh. Again.

It was going to be one of those days.

-

Tetsurou always made it a point to look gorgeous. Was he trying? Probably not, but that son a bitch knew people gave him looks that lingered a bit too long to be considered just a passing glance. You nearly snort in laughter at the way he opens the door to the café a little too, for better words, extravagantly, and walk to you purposely taking his time because you could tell he felt the way the young mom sitting at the table near the counter was giving him the look.

Then again, you don’t blame her. You weren’t too far from her reaction, albeit you actually had the decency to not openly gawk at him. Tetsurou plopped down in the chair opposite from you and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and propping them up the table before grabbing the menu from the middle of the table.

Already knowing your order, and his even though he still looks through the menu every time, you sit in your seat waiting for him to settle on the same thing he ordered the last time you ate there.

“Tetsu, why do you have to be so extra every time you see someone looking at you for more than three seconds?”

He cocked his head to the side and peeked at you from behind the menu, “Because I’m hot, tree.”

Though you rolled your eyes at the nickname, you still smiled at the familiar banter, “I still don’t get why you call me tree when you’re the literal beanpole in this friendship.”

“That’s rich coming from you, considering you told people you knew a talking rooster in highschool,” he deadpanned, but you knew he was on the edge of a chuckle from the way he emphasized his words.

“Hey,” you raised your arms up in defense, “people thought you were interesting that way so…”

Tetsurou set the menu down and rolled his eyes at your response as the waiter greeted the two of you. Before Tetsurou could open his mouth to say what he wanted, you spoke, “I’ll get the carbonara and he’ll get the tonkatsu ramen—“

“Oi-“ he interrupted from the side, still, you continued, “we’ll also get iced tea, extra sugar for him, and a little less for me.”

The waiter looked between the two of you waiting for Tetsurou to finish speaking but he only leans back huffing out a, “She’s right.”

You smirked. “You get the same thing every time.”

“Well what if I want something else one day?” he replied to which you rolled your eyes as a reply.

In between bites, Tetsurou looks up from his meal, “Any plans?”

You twirled the straw of your drink around the liquid and looked at him, “I was thinking of traveling somewhere. My boss is letting me take some time off, and season’s kind of slow, so might as well.”

He nods, and then points his chopsticks at you, sighing, “Oh to be young and employed with an employer who doesn’t want to kill you with work.”

“We’re literally seven months apart,” you deadpan.

He huffs in his seat and continues eating.

-

“Have you decided where you’re going?”

You look to your left at Tetsurou who’s facing you, no longer paying attention to the movie playing in the TV.  Smoothing out the blanket on your lap, you sigh and tilt your head. “Kinda? I’m thinking somewhere warm. Kinda miss the sea.”

At this point the movie you two settled on a few hours ago had been completely forgotten, so you shift your body and face him. He offers you your third (or was it the fourth?) can of beer for that night, which you take and pop open immediately.

“(Y/n), can you even swim?” he laughs.

You glare at him from behind your drink. “I can go and look pretty in the beach while sipping my margaritas thank you very much.” 

Tetsurou clinks his can against yours and leans back against the couch, shifting to a more comfortable position. When he finally settles, he positions his head in a way that’s still facing you.

Draping your legs across his lap, you rearrange the blanket so that it covers the both of you. You feel the weight of his hands leaning against your legs and then hear him speak, “How long are you gonna be gone?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, a month? Two months? Haven’t even got the ticket yet.”

He gives you a look you can’t decipher, and then his voice becomes a little quiet, “What if I want to go with you?”

“Tetsu, you know your job won’t let you off that long,” you reply. 

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and pout at you, “You’re going to go and find a new surfer best friend who’ll buy you margaritas that flips his hair and you’ll forget about me.”

You chuckle. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

At this point the alcohol must have hit the both of you because you suddenly look at him, eyes soft in the way you usually would mask in the hours you were sober. He looks at you, equally as deep in the state of inebriation as you are because his eyes are as hazy as the slur in his tone when he says, “Nope! Because you looooove me (y/n).”

And he laughs at his own joke, tilting his head back to take another swig of beer. The comedic undertone flies past you anyway, because you fiddle with the edge of your sweater and sadly nod, “Yeah. I do”

In front of you, Tetsurou raises his hand, smiling, then hollers, “High five! Love you too.”

If it wasn’t for the liquid confidence, you would’ve laughed along to his joke and take another gulp of your beer to swallow the confession—but you’re four cans in and Tetsurou saying that he loves you too clouds the usual boundaries swimming in your head.

He doesn’t notice you when you take another heavy gulp from your can, or bite your lip afterwards, but he hears you when you say, “I do, you dumb fuck, I love you.”

And as soon as you say it, you feel him look at you. You choose to keep your head down. A few beats of silence passes before he speaks, “I know, (y/n),” he reaches forward to grab your hand, taking it into his. He traces the lining of the tattoo before continuing, “I know your tattoo story. And I’m still proud of-“

“I love you, Tetsurou,” you could almost wince at how loud it echoed in the silence, and the alcohol is still swimming in your system so you take another gulp hoping to dive deeper.

You feel him stop tracing the lines on your wrist so you take your hand back to your lap. He let the quiet envelop the room again before he spoke, and you could tell he was careful with his words.

“That time in the balcony, when you said you loved someone…” he trailed off so you look up and catch his stare. His eyes were still glassy; your head was still swimming, the rational thoughts further muffled by liquid confidence.

“I meant you,” you say, and try to fight the urge to break eye contact.

And because Tetsurou chooses to reply with a hushed ‘I’m sorry.’, you tell him ‘it’s okay, Tetsu.’ and retreat to your bedroom with a mumbled excuse of sleeping off a headache.

You lie in the dark with one hand over your eyes and sniffle quietly. You hear his “I’m sorry,” echo in the silence, but you try to ignore the thought at how immediate the apology was. He always had a habit of thinking about his answers in uncertain situations.

But you know him more than you give yourself credit for, you realize, so you shut your eyes and ignore the sting of the tears because you know. You’ve always known everything you felt for him had been on the unrequited side for the most part.

The certainty in his apology still hurt none the less.

--

That morning you wake up with a slight pound in your head and an empty apartment. At least he didn’t stick around, you thought, fully aware that the conversation afterwards would have most likely been too awkward to sit through.

Sighing as you rounded the corner to enter the kitchen, you paused in your track to look at the table where a plate of omurice lay in the middle next to a glass of sweet tea, the condensation still a little fresh on the glass.

Taking a seat and whispering a soft, “Itadakimasu”, you picked up the glass and took a sip. It didn’t taste as sweet as his.

Your eyes still stung, but you couldn’t help but smile at the taste. Looks like he remembers how you like your tea too.

-

After that night, there never really came a talk about where the two of you stood. Two days after the not so sober confession, Tetsurou showed up at your door with a bag of donuts demanding your company to picnic at this new spot he found recently. So you played along and pretended like nothing happened. The rational thoughts were back, your head no longer cloudy so this time, you laughed along with Tetsurou.

Though you could tell this time around his gaze towards you lingered a little longer, and he began to have moments where it looked like he was contemplating to start a conversation then ultimately deciding against it at the very last second. It was fine, though. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that conversation just yet.

So the next few weeks flowed like how it always did. Movie nights, playful banters, small talk, and beer—only this time you never drank more than two.

“Have you decided where you’re going?” he asks.

“Yeah, there’s this island in the Philippines. Siargao. My flight’s next week. The place looks sunny enough, but I might hop around the other islands if I stay long enough,” you reply.

“Don’t drown,” he laughs, and sets his beer down. You turn your focus back to the movie after chuckling at his reply and ignore how he never picked up a third can this time. And unlike before, he didn’t ask if he could come along this time.

-

Tetsurou drops you off with a half hug and a request that you update him as often as you can.

After a final wave at the gate, you board the plane with a return ticket to Japan slotted for two months later down the year.  

-

The island of Siargao is as beautiful as the pictures you always see on social media. Outside the unit you rented, was a stretch of untouched beach that was some ways from the main square of the city. And true to your words, for the first week of your arrival, you spent your days kicking the sand, lounging by the water and sipping on margaritas.

Tetsurou sent you multiple messages during the first few days, to which you replied through selfies with your margaritas. He’d send you a photo of himself rolling his eyes with the caption “off to work, because I have a job. Like some people.” , or something along similar lines.

You tried to think this wasn’t some random trip you took just because of Tetsurou. It had been a long time since you last took a vacation for yourself; work was lenient, you saved up enough, and frankly, you missed the beach. Tetsurou was just the icing on top of the cake that helped you make your decision, you rationalized.

Plus, you thought, this place is paradise.

And you held on to that thought because a few days later came the knock on your door at six in the morning that introduced you to the serendipity you never could have predicted. Your little summer serendipity came in the form of a six foot one, and totally ripped blonde named Miya Atsumu.

He knocked at your door asking if you knew any places that rented out surfboards and scooters. By the time he was at the third word of his sentence, you knew he was Japanese because of the accent that lingered after he spoke. By the fourth sentence, he smiled in a way that had his eyes crinkling. And by the end of the conversation, by whatever being possessed you in that moment, probably that extra margarita, you had agreed to go to the main square in the city with him.

Atsumu knocks on your door for the second time that day at five in the afternoon wearing a loose white button shirt and another eye crinkling smile. Dangling a set of keys in one hand he nodded behind him and said, “Ready to go? I got the scooter from the place you told me.”

This time, you voiced out your hesitation, “Ahh, it’s alright. You don’t have to get dinner for me tonight. I just happened to know a place.”

He smiles and blinks at you laughing, “Ya travelin’ alone?” You nod then he continues, “Same here. Might as well know someone in the area. Heard the food here’s good, so let’s go.”

You open your mouth to protest but he turns and walks towards his scooter so you huff and follow after him. He did have a point. You were going to be there for two months so might as well actually take the time to know some people.

-

After Atsumu helps you fasten the belt on the helmet, he tells you to ‘feel free to hold on to my waist if ya need to balance.’ and then backs to the main street. Your hands rest on his shoulders as he drives along a road parallel to the stretch of water on your far left. It must have been close to seven, you take note, because as you glance up the colors in the sky begin to blend into mellow hues of orange and red.

You look forward and glance at Atsumu’s reflection in the side mirror before briefly catching his eye. From the mirror, you could see an expression that was somewhere between a smirk and a smile.

“Ya like what ya see?” he yells over the wind.

You squeeze his shoulder, then lean closer saying, “Just drive. I’m not in the mood to die.”

He laughs over the holler of the open air and you can’t help but smile along to how his laugh lingers in the air.

Soon enough, the two of you settle into a restobar by the beach, one close enough to the water where you could ditch your flip flops and let your feet sink in the sand.

This has got to be the fifth margarita I’m drinking today, you think to yourself before taking a sip. Still good though, you inwardly snort. Atsumu sits across you from the table nursing his own choice of drink.

The atmosphere was nice, the live musician strumming his first song in the background. Then Atsumu speaks from across you, “So,” he begins, “How long ya stayin’?”

You fiddle with the straw of your drink, facing him, “Two months. You?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know yet. Off season and there’s not much to do back home, so might as well be bored somewhere a little more scenic.”

“Indefinite vacation,” you nod—impressed, “Must be hella loaded.”

He laughs again, “I’m comfortable.”

The silence envelops the two of you again, but as the musician begins another song, from the corner of your eye you see Atsumu listen, clap, and smile so you decide maybe befriending this stranger won’t be so bad after all.

The next night you head for go for drinks, Tetsurou messages you with a picture of him and Kenma in the car with a caption, “movie night minus the traitor who left the country >:((“ and you reply with your signature margarita selfie with Atsumu throwing a peace sign to your right. Tetsurou replies with a smiley face and you don’t hear from him for the rest of the night.

-

The next few weeks consisted of waking up shy of the sunrise and walks along the trail where the waves crept towards the sand. Atsumu liked to join you in the mornings, of course, the days he actually wakes up before ten AM. Some days you’d watch him peddle out into the water catching wave after wave as you sat in the sand, under a shade. You didn’t really go out into the water and preferred to just sit in the sun, so the times Atsumu would catch a break, he’d lay out a towel next to you and sit to talk.

He was talkative. Extremely talkative. But it was welcome, you suppose. He asked aimless questions during conversations. Conversations with him usually sounded like this: “(y/n)?” “Yep?” “Whadda ya think about riceballs?” “They’re…okay, I guess.” “Good to know.”

It was endearing, you suppose. Atsumu respected your boundaries and never pried, that fact was for sure. Though, he chose to fill in the beats of silence with little facts about his life. Over the course of the next month, in the moments you’d spend with Atsumu during the day, you’ve learned that he was playing for a professional volleyball team, he’s originally not from Tokyo, he tripped during a fan meeting, has a twin brother who’s darn good at cookin’ (he emphasized), and that his favorite food is fatty tuna. You don’t remember specifically asking, but he talks anyway you can’t bring yourself to mind one bit.

During the past month and some, Tetsurou sporadically texts you a greeting to which you reply to—but this time, it wasn’t until much, much later that you realize you didn’t think too much about the change of tone and much hastier conversations. You usually ended the phone call this time around, too.

Nearing the last few stretches of golden hour, Atsumu would routinely knock at your door and drag you out to walk around the beach only retreating to your respective units hours after the sunset.

It was during this one night where Atsumu sits you down and stars a small bonfire. He excused himself for a brief moment then came back with a Tupperware of what you assumed to be snacks, a blanket, and a hoodie which he lent you (that up to now you still haven’t returned).  You smile as he takes his seat next to you, comfortable in his hoodie.

“So,” Atsumu breaks the silence, “how come yer runnin’ away for two months?”

“That’s kinda sudden,” you reply.

He knocks your shoulder with his lightly before speaking again, “You don’t have ta’ share if you don’t wanna.”

“No pressure,” he says again and his eyes crinkle at his smile so you press your shoulder against his and say, “I just wanted time for myself I guess.”

He nods, so you continue, “It’s nothing dramatic, really. For a big part of my life I just…lived according to how people placed me in their lives. I guess I just wanted the space where I had to make decisions from nothing if that even makes any sense.”

“Depends. How many margaritas did ya have today?” he jokes.

“Atsumu! You were with me the whole day, I haven’t even had one yet,” you laugh out.

“But I understand what ya’ mean. Yer all good, I just thought you were gonna say you were soul searchin’ cause of a boy that broke ya’ heart back home.”

You look at him and wince. “In a way, that was a factor as well.”

Half expecting a sympathetic reply, you find yourself rolling your eyes and laughing because Atsumu suddenly yells, “Bingo!” and flicks your forehead.

He faces you and holds his hands up, “Hey, we all got a reason to do stuff so I ain’t gonna judge ya’.”

You smile and lean against his shoulder because you know he’s sincere. 

“Atsumu?” you call out.

“Yeah?” he replies as he turns his head looking at you. 

The red of the flames flicker as a glassy reflection against the brown in his eyes and your thoughts become jumbled for a second.

“If I find out you’re here because you got dumped I’m never letting you live it down.”

His eyes crinkle along with his laugh and you find yourself missing the pools of brown, but the echo of his laugh resonates clear in your ears as compensation so you decide you’re satiated.

“I swear I just got bored back home!”

Atsumu spends the next few hours by telling you stories and giving you soft smiles, and you don’t notice the absence of Tetsurou’s message that night.

-

On the afternoon after some weeks more, Atsumu comes to you by knocking at your door at five in the afternoon (which doesn’t even surprise you at this point), demanding you put on swimwear because he was going to teach you how to swim. At first, you stare at him with a blank look—wherein he stares at you right back with equal intensity, so after some time, you sigh and shoo him out, telling him you’ll meet him outside after you get ready.

After tugging on some shorts and a bikini top, you walk outside and glance around looking for the telltale blonde of Atsumu’s head. It doesn’t really surprise you when you hear your name being hollered from some distance, so as you look to the direction of the water—you see Atsumu waving his arms wildly, already waist deep out in sea.

The water was warm, at least, and you carefully wade in the water towards Atsumu. He lets you grab his arms to help you find balance against the waves knocking against you.

“You know you’re going to fail if you try to teach me right?” you say.

“Just needed an excuse to get you in the water,” he chuckles. 

You respond by splashing him with a handful of water. And somewhere in between splashes of water and playful banter, you find yourself wading chest deep into warm water, Atsumu’s arms acting as your anchor against the push and pull of the waves. The two of you stay like that for some time and you allow the woosh of the water and distant sounds of the children on shore fill the silence.

“Golden hour’s almost up, ‘Tsumu, we should go back.” you say after some time. 

He stands behind you and leans down a bit, then surprises you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. Your breath hitches, then his voice sounds low near your ear, “Look at the sky.”

And so you do. The sky in front of you lights itself in bursting shades of oranges, reds, and touches of violets. You turn your face to the side but stop because you see Atsumu staring at you, the expression on his face soft.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” his lips part to say, and you nod because you see licks of the sky’s painting reflected in the glassy brown pools of Atsumu’s eyes.

He blinks and smiles in a softer way that only the corners crinkle up, and you don’t notice how your hand eventually found its way to wrap around his because you’re gravitating towards him—face angling closer until you felt his lips press against your forehead.

“Did you know,” you begin, “when you feel deja vu that means the universe is telling you you’re going down the right path?”

Atsumu looks as you, “Does this feel familiar?”

“In a way,” you respond and smile.

Turning to face him, Atsumu’s hands cradle yours as he presses his lips towards the side of your lips, then back to the side of your head feeling him smiling into the kiss. “You’re somethin’ else, (y/n).”

You look at him wearing a smile mirroring his, “Something good I hope.”

It’s something good, you decide later that night as you settle in bed after dinner with Atsumu. The past few hours flew by in a mirage of good conversation, light hearted jokes and even more eye crinkling smiles from Atsumu.

Settling into the comforter, you grab your laptop just in time as Tetsurou’s face pops up on screen, requesting a video call. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you hit the accept button and wave hello as Tetsuou’s face appears on the screen. He holds a can of beer as a greeting and leans forward. His eyes look glassy.

“(Y/n)..” His voice trails off before slowly continuing, “—how are you?”

You don’t notice his tone from the high you’re still feeling from the day so you beam at him, “I’m good! Atsumu and I are really hitting it off! You’d love him Tetsu!”

He stares at you through the webcam and then he sighs deep. Finally catching a drift of the atmosphere he’s giving off, you watch him crack another beer open and slowly speak, “You okay? Did something happen?”

He sets the can down at the table in front of him and places his face in his hands. You notice the new ink around his forearms. “I miss you, (y/n).”

“I’ll be home next week, Tetsu,” you say

“I—“ he pauses to look up at you with glassy eyes, “I think we should give us a try.”

Your heart clenches. “Tetsurou, you’re drunk. We can talk when I get home.” He shakes his head, and his movement is a little sluggish, so you continue to speak before he could, “I saw the photo your ex posted earlier. You’re still not okay, Tetsu.”

He leans back to his chair with a little force, “And suddenly you are? After being in love with me for eight years, (y/n), you expect me to believe that you’re suddenly okay? Bullshit.”

Your face grimaces, and you feel anger bubble up, the emotion seeping into your words, “I don’t think you’re ever going to go away, Tetsurou. For years I watched you fall in and out of love with someone who was never me. I’m not suddenly okay but I accepted that this—“ you pause to gesture between the two of you, “—isn’t going to happen and I’m moving on. I watched you when you were at your happiest and I deserve that too, Tetsu. I deserve to be at my happiest whether it be by myself or with Atsu-“

“We can try, (y/n),” he cuts you off softly.

“But I don’t deserve someone who isn’t sure about me,” you reply.

And maybe it’s the liquid confidence that riles him up, but he suddenly straightens his back and looks at you with the same glare you stare at him with, “And are you sure about Atsumu? You told me none of us are saints, (y/n), you’re not better off than I am here.”

You open your mouth, but the silence remains; the atmosphere suddenly heavy.

Then Tetsurou slumps before he he speaks, “(Y/n), I—“  

“It’s okay, Kuroo,” you watch as he winces at his surname, “It’s late and I really want to get some sleep. You should too. Take care.”

You catch the last second of him parting his lips at an attempt to reply before you promptly ended the call and shut off your laptop.

His words ring in your ear the entire night, and you think of Atsumu the entire night. You watch the second hand of the clock on your bedside table tick slowly. Your hand comes to rest against your eyes as you try to let sleep pull you in.

You think of Tetsurou who looked at you with glassy eyes that told you all the reasons why his heart was still hurting, then you think of Atsumu—of how the sunset looked better reflected in his eyes than it did painted across the sky.

“I really hope this is something good,” you echo your words from earlier as you let sleep finally succumb into slumber.

-

The night before your flight, Atsumu seats you outside for a bonfire, with the same blankets, snacks, and hoodie fitted around you. The first few hours he jokes about little stories that happened throughout his life and listens patiently when you’d share a snippet of yours.

At this point, you weren’t sure where the two of you stood. You look at him from the corner of your eye as he blows against an extremely burnt marshmallow before sheepishly offering the stick to you.

“When we’re back in Japan I’m lettin’ ya taste ‘Samu’s cookin’ to make up for this I swear.”

You lean your head against his arm and blow on the charred marshmallow, “Have you decided when you’re coming back?”

“Yes, but I’m not tellin ya,” Atsumu chuckles.

“What!” You exclaim, suddenly sitting up, “You already have a ticket?”

“That’s also a secret, doll.”

You sigh and move to lightly punch his shoulder, but instead, he catches your hand midway and envelops it in his own. Atsumu looks at the tattoo on your wrist peeking out, so tentatively, he pushes down the sleeve and looks at it.

“Baby’s breath means eternal love, right?” he asks, voice hushed.

“I’m surprised a big, buff, man like you knows,” you reply.

“Oi, big buff men can be sentimental too,” Atsumu quips.

“(Y/n),” he begins then looks at you in a way that suddenly has your stomach churning, “Should we give us a go at this?”

He asks the same question as Tetsurou did a few nights back and your head is swimming. Tetsurou’s words muddle the thoughts in your head as you turn to face Atsumu who is looking at you with eyes that always held the same softness that remained unchanged from two months ago.

Is this even fair for Atsumu? is the thought that you circle around.

“I don’t want to give you only half of me, ‘Tsumu,” you cradle his cheek in your palm and your heart stirs when he leans in. 

“You’re too good for me,” you confess.

He closes his eyes and you find yourself missing the dancing specks of scarlet flames reflected in his orbs. 

“You’re killin’ me, doll,” he sighs, his face still warm against your palm. Atsumu’s hand trails up and cups your hand that’s still flush against his cheek.

“Is this the part where we say we’re the right people who met at the wrong time?” he jokes quietly. Atsumu looks at you with a smile contrasting against the somber expression in his face, and you feel your heart clench.

Your thoughts momentarily flicker back to the night you talked to Tetsurou in your balcony some months ago and remember the feeling of déjà vu hinting that you were heading in the right direction with your decision.

Staring back at him, you look at your own reflection in darkened pools of brown and don’t feel déjà vu’s familiar push. Atsumu’s other hand trails up your face and his thumb rubs against your cheek. You stay silent when he sighs again and your heart clenches in the way that hurts, and your brain scrambles for a reason why.

Atsumu angles your hand in a way that lets him press a kiss to the tattoo on your wrist. “Hope ya heal in time, (y/n).”

You’re still quiet, thoughts still muddled as your rationality wrestles to string words to convey to Atsumu. “We can stay in contact, ‘Tsumu. I still want you to be in my life,” you slowly say.

“I don’t wanna be hurtin’ you while you’re still tryin’ to find yourself,” he says, and you nod. Déjà vu never comes and your heart still aches.

And your heart remains heavy as the two of you stand up to retreat for the night. Against the door of your room you look at him and press a kiss on his cheek. He smiles at you.

“Well, I guess,” you initiate, “see you around?”

He smiles and crosses the short distance between the two of you, then presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “If the universe wills it, doll.”

The feeling of déjà vu is absent for the rest of the night.

-

After the first few days of your arrival back in Japan, you stay in your apartment cursing the winter. This particular winter was a little harsh for Tokyo and the sudden temperature change you needed to adjust to didn’t help with your traitor immune system. Kenma had waited for you at the arrival area of the airport instead of Tetsurou that day. Then again, you weren’t complaining—you didn’t have any plans to talk to him immediately after coming back home.

You didn’t need to report back to your job until the next week so the first few days, you loitered around your apartment mindlessly passing the time. Some mornings, you’d drag a chair by the balcony and sip your morning coffee. The snow accumulating on the rails and the gloomy morning light was a far cry from the little island you explored with Atsumu back in the Philippines, but your thoughts still ghosted around him from time to time.

The morning you left for the airport, he slept in, but that didn’t stop you from leaving a sticky note in his front door with your contact details neatly printed in the paper. Throughout your day, your eyes constantly flickered to sneak glimpses at your phone’s notification bar, but there was never an unknown number. So you sighed, and instead scrolled through the photos you managed to capture with him. The image of Atsumu stared back at you through the screen, expression beaming with unfiltered happiness and you find yourself smiling along every time.

A knock on your door one morning brings you out of your haze. Before you could look through the peep hole, another knock comes and then a voice, “Ah, (y/n), I think you’re home now,” your hand on the door knob loosens, “It’s Tetsurou. Can we please talk?”

You must have stayed quiet too long because he speaks again, “I got you donuts.” 

And you sigh, because he’s right, the two of you need to talk. But you still tell yourself you’re only opening the door because it’s six in the morning and you can’t be bothered to make breakfast so the donuts are the only reason you’re letting him in.

-

Tetsurou sits on the opposite side of the dining table gripping the handle of his mug with one hand before he clears his throat and looks at you, “I’m sorry.”

“Tetsurou,” you begin, “You’re someone that I don’t think will ever leave my system.” His eyes are a little clearer now that you return his stare. “You’re still the person who grew up with me even if time difference existed you know. You’ve had so many roles in my life and that’s never going to change.”

He looks at you, suddenly looking like a teenager again. His golden eyes stare at you and gleam of something unspoken. “I think somewhere along the years I really did fall in love with you, (y/n). And it just sucks how we never met at the same page. I really do love you, (y/n).”

“Maybe in the next life, Tetsu,” you say suddenly choked up. “We both deserve-“

“A fresh start.” He cuts you off, smiling. “A fresh start.” You affirm.

Before you knew it, Tetsurou rolls his sleeve to his elbows and angles his arm showing you a small outline of the sun peeking out behind some buildings. You look at him just in time for his explanation, “It’s not as sentimental as your baby’s breath tattoo, but sunrises remind me of you.”

You feel your eyes water when you look at the amber of his eyes growing glassier, “You got a tattoo that reminds you of me?”

“You’ve always been a constant in my life, (y/n). I shared so many sunrises with you. And I mean it when I say that I want you to find what makes you happy.” He tells you as you smile and lean forward, tracing the lining of his tattoo. The moment feels a little like déjà vu that doesn’t disappear when Tetsurou speaking again, “I love you enough to realize that kind of happiness won’t be with me, (y/n).”

He looks at you and everything feels so familiar. You choke out a sob that sounded a little like a laugh and Tetsurou does the same.

“You’re never getting rid of me, you lunatic,” you say, and Tetsurou laughs—eyes glassy from the pricks of tears fighting to slide down his cheeks. “We’re okay, right?” He asks you. And you nod, because your heart constricts in a way that doesn’t hurt, the knot in your stomach gone and Tetsurou looking so beautiful from the morning light that filtered in feels so familiar.

“Always, Tetsu.”

And after some moments of comfortable silence, he looks to the window on his left saying, “So, surfer dude slash volleyball player, huh? I think you got a type going on, (y/n).”

You roll your eyes and finally grab a donut from the box. “Yeah.”

Tetsurou chuckles, “Tell me about him. He’s the first guy who makes you look dopey in love.” So you smile and look out the window thinking about the boy who spoke of the little moments and showed you worlds under the sun and feel your heart mellow to a gentle beat, “He’s something good.”

-

Atsumu’s number doesn’t show up on your phone for the next month, but you try to keep yourself from doing your own research, or as Tetsurou pointed out, stalking, for his presence in social media. If he didn’t want to be found, you’d just leave him to it.

Tetsurou sits across from you at the arrival gate in Haneda airport later that month, scrolling through his phone and mumbling curses because Bokuto, his friend, had told him the wrong time for his arrival and won’t be arriving until a few hours later. Instead of driving back home, wasting gas, and sitting through traffic, you suggest to pass the time at a café instead.

“I swear to god, (y/n), remind me to end my friendship with him the second he lands,” Tetsurou huffs from across you.

“You’re being dramatic again,” You roll your eyes, laughing. 

“He’s gonna be here in a bit,” you pause and stand up, grabbing your phone, “I’ll go check the board so stay here.”

“Since you left your wallet here, I’m treating myself to another frapp, thanks (y/n)!” you hear him call from behind you, so you turn to flick him off as you keep walking.

-

Looking at the board above the gate, your eyes scan to look for information regarding Bokuto’s flight. Under said flight, you smile looking at SIARGAO listed within the board. Briefly, your thought wonders off to Atsumu; you hoped he was doing well.

A flow of people begin to trail out of the gate and into the lobby. Assuming that it must be from Bokuto’s flight, you stand on your tip toes from your little corner to look for the telltale monochromatic palette of his hair.

Grabbing your phone, you hastily press call to Tetsurou’s contact name, to which he answers with a drawled out “Heeelllloo?” along with an exaggerated slurp to the Frappuccino he bought with your card.

You open your mouth to tell him to come over, except that you don’t because standing a few meters in front of you is a familiar blonde.

From the phone in your ear, you hear Tetsurou call your name, so through the haze in your thoughts, you mumble a quick “Never mind.” and hang up. You don’t think Atsumu notices you just yet because he’s pulled his luggage to the side, a little closer to you this time, and pulled out his phone to what you could guess was him texting somebody.

You don’t speak for the first few beats of silence because, holy shit this is fanfiction material—is this actually happening? Eventually he pockets his phone and looks around, before his eyes spots you, who at this point, is still openly gawking at him some distance away.

Then three things happen in succession; first, Atsumu’s eyes widen, second, he blinks really fast, and then finally, third, cracks a smile.

And as soon as his smile pushes the crinkle in his eyes, you feel yourself release the breath you’ve unconsciously held in. He pushes his luggage with him as he walks towards you, hand held up in greeting and the smile still plastered wide on his face.

“Yo,” he says and your heart bursts with your reply that came out a little more breathless than you’d expected, “Hi.”

-

Tetsurou stands some distance away from the two of you, holding your wallet and his Frappuccino. He spots the blonde mop of head you’re staring at, really you should chill out (he thinks), and immediately recognizes his features as Miya Atsumu, the same guy who’s been a part of your daily margarita selfie for the two months you were in the Philippines.

The bedhead watches you walk towards Atsumu, and he to you before you both met somewhat in the middle, then looks at you, finding himself smile because of how happy you looked. He stands in his spot and can’t help but feel some sort of déjà vu as he stops himself from approaching the two of you. His heart, he realizes, clenches in a way that sort of hurts but sort of doesn’t, but because this is the first time looking at you with a smile so unabashed, he settles with the thought that because he loves you—you deserve nothing short of the happiness you’re feeling now.

And you can’t help but feel the same as Atsumu laughs out a comment about how the universe must really want the two of you together. His arms circle your figure after exchanging a few pleasantries and inside jokes and you smile into the crook of his neck.

“This feels a little like that déjà vu thing ya talked about before, ya know.” He mumbles. And for the brief moment you see Tetsurou’s text on the screen of your phone reading, “whipped.”, you laugh in a way that has you feeling dizzy and light. You feel like you could cry when Atsumu kisses the side of your head, because this moment feels so familiar.

Atsumu feels so familiar. So when you break the embrace and look at the reflection of your watering eyes in the warm pools of his, more than ever, you were sure that this is exactly where the gods meant for you to be.

-

a/n: *i’m aware there’s no direct flight from haneda/siargao but pls bear w me ;A;

proceed to Epilogue :D

[owfemslashexchange]

(oh boy i hope i’m submitting this the right way, pls tell me if it isn’t…)

hey! this is my gift for @poisonviy! u requested roommates au and i hope i did a good enough job of it :D

From @megturnayyy to @pamelaislei (poisonviy)

i want you all the time (not even a thousand loudspeakers will be able to speak for my sake)

–

Thing is, Lena needs a new roommate.

She’s been living with Jesse for eight months before the man decided to go back to the United States, spend some time with his family now that his grandpa has passed away. And Lena gets that, really, she’s all for him to spend time with his loved ones as much as he needs to, but –

Lena can’t pay for an entire apartment on her own; she doesn’t make that much on her job and she’s too busy with university to get another one. So, in short: she needs a new roommate, as soon as possible.

She asks some people over, but they either have roommates already or Lena’s place is too far from their own universities, which means it would be counterproductive to live with her. And she gets that, really, she wouldn’t want to live on a place far away from hers either.

“Why don’t you ask Amélie?” Angela asks one day over coffee, after hearing Lena complain so much about her situation. “She came back from Paris a while ago, I’m sure she doesn’t have a place to stay right now. She doesn’t have any family here. Last I heard she was living on a hostel.”

Lena almost lets her mug slip, knowing full well that her face is a red mess with how hot she is feeling. She leans over the table, looking on both sides before locking in on Angela.

“I can’t just ask her like that,” she hisses, mildly embarrassed. “What if I weird her out?”

Angela chuckles, “I’m sure it will be fine, Lena. She already knows what you’re like.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lena squints at her friends, who simply takes a sip of her coffee, shrugging. She huffs and crosses her arms, doing her best not to pout. “Fine, I’ll ask her if she wants to be my roommate. But I’m sure she already has other plans.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Angela smiles sweetly, but Lena knows better. Her friend is planning something.

Not that she’ll find out what it is, with how Angela is good at not revealing her thoughts.

–

“Move in with you?” Amélie asks, raising one eyebrow, though she doesn’t look displeased by the idea. Her eyes lock with Lena’s, and she doesn’t seem to notice the slight flush that appeared on the woman’s face – instead, she shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

Lena smiles brightly, and it takes all the effort in the world not to jump up and down in happiness. So her crush is going to move in with her, no big deal.

Except it is, and Lena doesn’t know how things will work out from now on.

“Brilliant,” she says instead of worrying at the moment, extending one hand quickly. “I promise I’m not a noisy roommate, your Saturday mornings are safe.”

Amélie snorts, though she looks amused. She takes Lena’s hand and they shake on it.

“So,” she drawls out, retreating her hand slowly, almost as if she didn’t want to break contact with Lena’s. “When can I move in?”

“Oh!” Lena lights up, clasping her hands together. “I’m off work tomorrow, so I can help you with the boxes.”

“Marvelous,” Amélie smiles and, oh, Lena’s heart does a stutter that she tries to ignore.

“Tomorrow it is, then. Now, you must excuse me – I have to help some students with their upcoming tests.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Lena stumbles back, raising one hand to say goodbye. “Good luck with that!”

Amélie chuckles and waves back at her. Lena sighs, pleased that things went better than she thought. She’ll have to apologize to Angela for thinking she was wrong.

–

That night she skypes Jesse, gets him updated on what’s happening on her life.

“Well, that damn sure is a good thing for you, huh,” Jesse whistles, grinning wolfishly. Lena bristles, ignores her own blushing cheeks, and Jesse laughs. “This has got to be a dream come true, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lena huffs and crosses her arms, cheeks puffing up.

“She was the only option available – ask Angela. I’m just glad I don’t have to pay full rent.”

“Sure,” he drawls out, smirking. Lena doesn’t appreciate his expression one bit. “The fact that now you’ll see your crush more often has nothing to do with it.”

“I’m going to hang up on you.”

“No, you’re not,” Jesse says, softening his smile. “In all honestly, tough, I hope you and Amélie will have a great time living together.”

Lena’s stance relaxes, and she smiles at her friend, “Thanks, mate. I hope nothing will go wrong with her here.”

“Now, I don’t know Amélie very well, but –” Jesse says, making flourishes with one hand.

“From what I’ve seen she’s a very serious person, I’m sure she’ll tell you if something bothers her.”

“Yeah,” she ignores the chuckle Jesse gives at her lovey-dovey smile and coughs. “Enough about this! How’s everyone been?”

Jesse smiles, grand and bright, and for the rest of their call he updates her on what has happened since he arrived.

–

It’s early morning when Lena watched Amélie get out of her truck, carrying a box on her side. She never thought that would be the type of vehicle Amélie would drive, but, honestly?

That makes her even more attractive in Lena’s eyes. May Angela never hear her.

“Hey, love!” she waves at Amélie, who simply smiles in return. “What can I do to help?”

“There’s more boxes in the back of the truck,” she points. “Pick any of them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lena does a mock salute that makes Amélie laugh, even if just a little, and then the woman steps inside the building. “Ah, I live on the eighth floor!”

Amélie nods and calls for the elevator. Lena tries to pick up the least breakable looking box, and follows the woman.

The ride up is relatively quiet, with the instrumental version of Girl from Ipanema playing in the background. Lena never understood why that was the building’s choice of elevator music, but she enjoys it nevertheless.

Lena ventures a few quick glances to her side, trying to figure out how Amélie is feeling. Her face is, unfortunately, an unreadable mask, which frustrates Lena to no end, though she mentions nothing about it. At least Amélie doesn’t seem bothered by the whole moving thing.

She leans her body back and forth, to the rhythm of the song, smiles when she notices Amélie looking at her out of the corner of her eye. Amélie doesn’t join in, despite Lena’s inviting eyes, but that’s okay, the woman has always been the most serious of their group.

Finally, they arrive on Lena’s floor and she fumbles with her back pocket, trying to get the keys out. It takes just a couple of seconds, and she almost drops the box she’s holding, but she manages to unlock the door.

“Ta-da!” she extends her free arm, proud of her apartment.

It’s relatively small place; two bedrooms, one bathroom in between, a kitchen and a living room that are connected to each other, the only thing separating them being the tiles on the floor. Amélie nods appreciatively and steps in, searching for a corner to put the box on.

“Do you want to leave this in your bedroom, roomie?” Lena nudges her, grinning widely. In truth, Amélie doesn’t mind, even like this behavior coming from her friend – might even let herself think of how cute she looks, even though Amélie would never say that out loud. “It’s the one in the left, by the way.”

“Alright,” Amélie walks in the direction of said bedroom, noticing its closed door.

“Oh!” Lena leaps in front of her, standing between her and the door. “The room might be a little… messy. I forgot to clean up after Jesse left. I hope you don’t mind.”

Amélie simply lifts one eyebrow, not surprised at all. From what she remembers about Lena, the woman is not exactly known for keeping things tight. When it’s clear that Amélie won’t say anything, Lena cringes and opens the door for her. They both take a look inside.

“Well,” Amélie starts, gaze shifting from one side of the room to the other. “It’s in better condition than I expected.”

Lena lets out a breathless laughter, almost as if she’s relieved the place doesn’t look worse.

“Wow, I certainly thought Jesse would be messier than this,” she nudges Amélie on the ribs again, playful. “I can help you clean up if you want to.”

“I’ll think about it,” Amélie responds, dropping the boxes on top of the bed. “Right now I just want to get all the boxes up here.”

“Alright then,” Lena mock salutes before turning away. “Back to the truck it is.”

–

It takes them a couple more minutes to bring everything to the apartment, and a little longer to unpack and place stuff on their places. The afternoon is starting to give way to the evening, and they both sit on the pretty worn couch on the living room, beers in hand and the TV on.

“So,” Lena quips, looks at Amélie sideways and raises her bottle. “To new roommates!”

“To new roommates,” she smiles and they clink their bottles together before taking a sip.

They fall into a comfortable silence, watching a random series on TV. Every now and then they comment on something that happened on screen, but not much more than that happens. Lena steals some glances over Amélie’s way, but her gaze is back to the TV before the woman can catch her.

She feels giddy inside, like a whole new brand of opportunities opened up to her. Angela and Jesse were right – this is her change to get to know Amélie better, to flirt with her and to get closer to her.

It’s an exciting thought, getting close to Amélie. They’ve known each other for years now, but lost contact after the woman left for Paris to pursue her career in ballet. Lena doesn’t quite know why she came back, or why she’s a TA now, but she doesn’t want to pry right away, wants to leave Amélie free to tell Lena on her own.

While that doesn’t happen, she’s happy to just sit back and watch shitty TV shows with her.

–

“So,” Angela starts as she takes the coffee from Lena’s hand. “How’s life with Amélie like?”

“She’s only been there for three days, Ange,” Lena says, frowning slightly.

Angela simply raises one eyebrow, unimpressed.

Lena sighs and blushes, looking down at her own beverage, fingers drumming on the cup, “It’s… okay.”

“Just okay?” she raises one eyebrow in disbelief, takes a sip off her drink. “I’d imagine living with her would be the best thing that has ever happened to you or something.”

“Hey,” Lena slaps her on the arm, and scowls when she laughs. “Look, it’s all great, it’s just. You know.”

“I… know?” Angela doesn’t sound sure she knows what Lena means.

Lena nods, “You know she likes to keep it to herself. It’s not different back at the apartment.”

Angela’s shoulders slump, as if she’s disappointed in what she hears. Lena shrugs, tries not to look so let down that she hasn’t been able to make any progress in flirting with Amélie. Maybe she should just give up and try to move on, try to look for another woman.

“I’ve liked her for so long, Ange, what if it was all for naught?” Lena semi-whispers, then looks both sides before continuing. “She doesn’t even seem to be into women, what if I just make things awkward between us? Then living with her would be hell!”

“Lena, calm down,” Angela puts a hand down Lena’s shoulder, trying to calm the woman down. “I’m sure even if she’s not interested she won’t stop being your friend. She’s a good person – you know, despite her case of constant ‘resting’ face –, there’s no way she’d treat you differently.”

“It’s the rejection I’m not looking forward to,” Lena sighs over her cup before taking a sip. “I don’t think I could look her in the eye ever again, I’d die of embarrassment.”

“Aren’t you and Emily still friends?” Angela asks. “She broke up with you and you two still talk to each other.”

Lena scoffs, “Em is different. Plus even I knew our relationship wasn’t going anywhere.”

“My point is that if you can still be friends with your ex, being friends with Amélie if, and I stress that if, she rejects you,” Angela dumps her empty cup on the trash before staring back at Lena. “And, if you want my opinion –”

“Do I?” Lena cuts her off, trying not to laugh when the woman puffs her cheeks. “Do I really want it?”

“Of course you do,” Angela waves her off. “Anyway, in my opinion I’m sure she won’t reject you. I still remember how she used to look at you before she moved to Paris.”

Lena raises an eyebrow at that, “And how’s that? Like I’m an annoyance?”

“Lena, please,” Angela rolls her eyes and pats her on the shoulder. “Think higher of yourself. And what I meant is that she looked at you pretty fondly for someone who was just your friend.”

“You don’t need to lie to make me feel better, Ange,” Lena says as she checks her watch. “And we’ll have to continue this lovely conversation later, because I’m about to be late for class. See ya, love!”

Angela shakes her head as she watches Lena run across the campus to get to class on time.

–

“Seems like you’ve managed to arrive just on time, Lena,” Satya mutters with a slight smirk as Lena sits down beside her. “What made you late this time?”

“You know,” she shrugs, opening her notebook. “Talking to Angela and all that. She was kind of trying to cheer me up, I think.”

“Oh?” Satya raises one eyebrow, curious. “Is something wrong?”

“Not… really?” Lena cringes, moving her hand in a ‘so-so’ movement. “Anyway, this was about, well, You Know Who – and you know how Ange gets when we talk about her.”

“You can say Amélie, you won’t burn from it, I promise you,” Satya says, tapping her pencil on the table repeatedly.

“Don’t,” Lena hisses, looking over both sides to make sure no one is paying attention to their conversation. “I get it, you guys love to tease me, but honestly – this isn’t fun.”

“Then I apologize,” Satya bows her head slightly, then turns her attention to the professor.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena notices that Satya is, in fact, serious about her apology, though she shouldn’t be surprised at all; that’s the way Satya has always been: serious and focused. She very much admires that on the other woman.

As the lecture goes on, Lena tries to focus on what the professor is saying, but her mind is still focused on what Angela said – it couldn’t possibly be true that Amélie had feelings for her just based off of the way she looks at Lena. Angela must be imagining things, that’s what it is. There’s no way Lena would be lucky enough to have someone as great as Amélie crushing on her.

Satya tsks and that brings her attention to the woman, “What?”

“Your lack of concentration is bothering me,” Satya whispers, her eyebrows are drawn together in disapproval. “You are my partner for the rest of the semester, so I need you to pay attention to class or you won’t have a single clue as to what to do during our projects.”

“Sorry, love,” she at least has the decency to look remorseful. “I’ve got some stuff in my head, but I’ll try to focus from now on.”

“See that you do.”

Lena smiles; Satya’s words might be harsh, but she cares. And that’s what matters.

–

Lena locks the door to their apartment and turns quickly when there’s a loud noise coming from the kitchen.

“Amélie?” she steps in carefully, not sure what to expect to see in the room. “Is everything okay over here?”

“Hello,” Amélie sounds normal, though her appearance and the look of the kitchen is anything but.

The oven has smoke coming out of it, Lena can even see the burnt food on the counter. Amélie herself has flour all over her face; her blouse has one fallen sleeve.

“Uh,” she’s not even sure on where to start. “Tried to cook, love?”

“As you can see, I have failed to do so,” Amélie waves over the entire kitchen. “Sorry, I’ll clean this up right away.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you out!” Lena quips, jumps readily to clean up the counter while Amélie fixes whatever has gone wrong with the oven.

Together they make the kitchen look normal again, as if the accident has never happened. Amélie sits on the couch on the living room, one hand rubbing her temple. Lena, hesitantly, sits next to her, puts one hand on the woman’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, love,” she tries to make the best of the situation. “I was also that bad when I started cooking.”

“This is not my first time, Lena,” Amélie half-snaps, as though she doesn’t have the energy to do so. “I simply… got distracted, is all.”

“Alright then,” she smiles, pats Amélie’s shoulder once and jumps up. “I’ll order something for us, how about that? You like Mexican?”

Amélie shrugs, “I have no preference.”

“Mexican it is then,” she skips towards the phone, ready to order while Amélie remains on the couch, wallowing in apparent self-pity.

It takes some time for the food to arrive, and by then Lena has managed to lighten Amélie’s mood a lot. She’s pleased with herself, from what she remembers Amélie is the hardest type of person to please; that she managed to make the woman smile is a miracle on itself.

“How’s your day been, love?” she asks, taking a bit of her taco.

“Pretty normal, if I think about it,” Amélie says. “Had one student hit on me several times while he asked for help with his homework, but I’m pretty sure by the tenth flirting attempt he got the message that I’m not interested.”

Lena snorts, “Oh boy, if I got a nickel for every man who hit on me that also didn’t get the message…”

“Aren’t men just annoying?” Amélie laughs and Lena stops, stares, falls in love all over again.

“I, uh, um –” she tries to form a coherent sentence, but it seems words fail her at the moment. “I thought you liked men?”

She goes with that, because it’s the first thing in her mind even though she knows it’s not the smartest thing to say.

“Unfortunately,” Amélie twists her wrist with a flourish. “The downside of being bi.”

Lena laughs with utmost delight, head thrown back and everything.

“I guess even if you’re still attracted to men you can see their bad side anyway,” Lena says.

Amélie nods, “Pretty much that, yes.”

They remain quiet for a while, both enjoying their food. Lena feels giddy – she had her hopes high that Amélie could be at least bi, but have it confirmed by the woman herself is one of the greatest things to ever happen. She could have a chance, right? Or maybe she’s aiming too high and she’ll only disappoint herself by expecting more than she can actually get in reality.

“I guess I’ve lucked out on fancying only the ladies,” Lena jokes, finishing her taco and reaching for another one. She’s small, but she eats a lot.

“That you did, my friend,” Amélie nods as she grabs her drink.

–

HANA (D.VA)

we still up for ur house this wknd?

yea ofc!!!!

Lúcio bringing u this time? :0

duh (。･∀･)ﾉ

see u sat then!!!!!!!!!

( *¯ ³¯*)♡

–

“Hey, Amélie,” Lena calls from the kitchen. “I’ve got to talk to you about something.”

“Yes?” Amélie walks in.

Lena turns, stops dead on her tracks and appreciates the view; the woman is wearing nothing but a dark bralette and purple shorts, and damn if that doesn’t make her look even more beautiful than she already is. For a moment, Lena forgets what she meant to say.

She shakes her head, trying to gain focus again.

“Yeah, so,” she waves her hand around, excited as always. “I’ve got some friends coming over Saturday, we’re going to play some Dungeons and Dragons. We won’t be loud, I promise!”

Amélie nods absentmindedly, “Alright.”

“Uh,” she knows she probably shouldn’t do this without asking the others first, but – “Would you like to play with us? We’re a paladin short and we haven’t had any luck in bringing people in on our game.”

Amélie tilts her head to the side, thinking.

“I’ll think about it,” Amélie finally says, which is better than Lena hoped for. “I don’t have to answer you right away, right? I’d like to take some time to think, I’ve never played this before and I’m not sure it would be something for me.”

“Yeah, of course!” Lena bounces from one side to another. “If you want to join us I bet the other guys would be thrilled! And you don’t even need to be a paladin if you don’t want to! Anything would be great as long as you join us, I’m sure.”

Amélie chuckles, amused, and it makes Lena smile uncertainly.

“Alright, I’ll think on it and will tell you before Saturday whether I’ll join your group or not,” Amélie finally says. “But shouldn’t you talk to them first before inviting me? Or are you their leader, chérie?”

“Hah, it’s nothing like that,” she rubs the back of her head, feeling flattered. “We’re pretty much a democracy, if you can even call it that. Hah.”

Amélie chuckles, clearly amused, “Okay then. Like I said, I’ll think about it. But it does sound fun.”

“Brilliant!” Lena hops from side to side, clapping. “I bet you won’t regret it if you decide to join us.”

“If you say so,” Amélie says, smiling. “But now I have to grade some tests, since the actual professor is too lazy to do that I guess.”

“Screw her,” Lena crosses her arms.

“Yes, exactly that.”

–

OVER THE WATCHES

tracer

guys!!!! guYS!!!!

hana (d.va)

sup bb

lúci-ohs

hey lena!

tracer

how would u guys feel about adding someone else to the group?/?

lúci-ohs

ooh who is it? 👀

tracer

amelie!!!

hana (d.va)

TA Lacroix???? (´⊙ω⊙`)！

tracer

i guess???? she’s my new roomie

lúci-ohs

yea bring her in!!

hana (d.va)

ooh if it’s her then yeah! she’s nice ∠( ᐛ」∠)＿

the cooler shimada

hey what r we talking abt

hana (d.va)

tracer wants to bring her new lady to our group

tracer

what

she’s not my lady!!!!

what are u on about

hana (d.va)

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

u fool no one, Oxton

i know u,,,

tracer

ajskhdj;fksa HANA

!!!!!!!!

hana (d.va)

what? (｡･ω･｡)

the cooler shimada

ooooh lena has a crush

is what i’m getting from this

hana (d.va)

ikr?? she has the biggest crush

so obvi

tracer

i’ll block u all

hana (d.va)

scary!! y( ꒪◊꒪)y

tracer

jkasdhgkljdsah;;

bYE

–

Lena likes to run on the park from time to time. She does it by herself mostly, because she likes the quiet it provides and how it lets her think things over whenever she has a problem or something just as important to focus on.

Right now it’s not her classes she’s thinking about, rather it is Amélie. It’s been weeks now since she moved in, and so far neither has taken a single action to take their relationship a step further. She sighs, stops and drinks some water.

She’s sweaty and will need a shower once she gets home, but right now that is not a problem.

Angela told her Amélie looks at her fondly, so that clearly translates to the woman liking her, right? If so, why hasn’t she done anything about it? It’s not like Lena can just jump on Amélie’s lap and confess her crush of five years to the woman. That would definitely not work on her behalf, and it would probably make things awkward for both of them, and that’s the last thing Lena wants.

The sound of whining brings her out of her thoughts, her head, and she looks towards the direction it is coming from. She coos when she lays eyes on what it is – a dog with its front left paw hurt.

“Aw, love, who even left you here?” she mumbles as she steps closer, gets lower to get closer to the animal. “Who even has the heart to leave something as cute as you out here like this?”

The dog barks, then whines, licks its paw while eyeing Lena with hesitance.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you, little thing!” she reassures it, slowly placing her hand on the dog’s fur. “You’re so cute, I might take you home with me.”

As if understanding her words, the dog barks excitedly, jumps on her and starts licking her face. Lena laughs, tries to pull away. She pets the dog excitedly, ‘ooh’s and ‘ah’s as the animal flaps its tail.

“D’you think I could get you to come home with me, cutie?” she asks more to herself than to the dog, but it seems to agree with her nonetheless. She picks it up with some effort, then sets off to the vet. “I’ll get you home soon, but we need to get you checked out first.”

The dog barks, tail wagging rapidly.

–

“Hey, Amélie!” Lena opens the door with some difficulty, considering she has dog food in one arm and is holding the dog’s – Winston, she decided – collar. “I’ve got good news for you!”

She stops, dead on her tracks, as she notices she’s not alone with Winston in the living room. There’s a woman sitting on her couch, popping a bubblegum distractedly as she flips the pages of a random magazine. She looks back at Lena and smirks, does a two fingers salute.

“¿Cómo estás, hermosa?” she says and Lena has no idea how to respond to it, mostly because she doesn’t know how to speak the language. “¿No comprendes Español? Well then, hello, amiga. Amélie just went into the bathroom.”

Lena nods, dumbfounded. Winston lies down by her feet, staring at the woman as well. The woman chuckles and closes the magazine, putting it on top of the small table in front of the couch.

“I’m Sombra,” she extends her hand and Lena almost trips over herself to shake it. “Also known as Amélie’s best friend.”

“You’re an annoyance, that’s what you are” Amélie’s voice comes from the bathroom as she steps out, drying her hands. “At least you didn’t break in this time.”

“I do have manners, araña,” Sombra pretends to be offended, but she breaks the spell by smiling widely.

“Araña?” Lena mouths, confused. She frowns, looking between Amélie and her friend.

“Oh, you’ve never seen the tattoo on her back?” Sombra smirks, side-eyeing Amélie with amusement. “It’s real pretty, I gotta say.”

An image forms itself on Lena’s mind, and she blushes. Imagining Amélie with less clothes is not a good idea of what to do when you’ve got guests.

“Anyway,” Amélie pulls her out of her thoughts. “What is that dog doing here?”

She doesn’t say it with disgust, which is a good thing in Lena’s book.

“Oh! This is Winston!” she bends down to pet the dog on the head and laughs when he wags his tail. “I found him while I was running in the park. There was no one around to take care of him and his front paw was pretty messed up, so I decided to help him myself.”

“I… see,” Amélie simply says, crossing her arms and raising one eyebrow. “And I guess you decided to keep him?”

“Uh,” Lena says. “Well, only if you are okay with it too, since you also live here and all that. But if it’s all good, I promise I’ll do all the work! I’ll take good care of him and you won’t even have to clean his poop!”

Amélie laughs, “I don’t mind helping out. I’m just, well, not very good with pets.”

“Don’t let her take care of the dog,” Sombra calls out from the couch. “She almost killed my tiny precious beta once.”

“That thing tried to bite me when I went to feed him,” Amélie scoffs, affronted.

“Excuses, excuses,” she winks at Lena, who giggles at the exchange between the women.

Winston barks and walks further into the apartment, sniffing everything he can put his nose on. Sombra laughs when he reaches her, smelling her legs. She pushes him away softly, and he goes without a protest, gets closer to Amélie, who looks reluctant.

He barks at her and rolls over, belly up. Amélie sighs, but bends down to rub his stomach, laughs a little when his tail starts wagging.

Lena smiles at the scene, feeling at peace.

–

JESSE MCCREE

[picture attached]

!!!!!!!

what’s this cutie’s name?

it’s Winston!!!!! he’s the cutest dog ever and amelie loves him too!!!!

that’s great, bud! give him a good rub for me, will ya?

what a pretty Labrador holy shit

B)

ikr, i got lucky when i found him!!!!!!

he sleeps on my bed every night

it’s nice to have someone to cuddle up to :)

that is true…

missing someone? ;)

now i don’t know what u’re talking about

sure, sure

hehe

i’m sure he misses u too <3

still don’t know what u’re talking about, buddy

anyway, gtg now!!! class and all that :P

see u later, lena :)

see ya!!!!!

–

“You got a dog,” Satya raises one eyebrow in disbelief. “Can you even take care of yourself?”

“Aw, love, have more faith, will ya?” Lena punches her shoulder delicately and laughs. “He’s alive so far, isn’t he? Plus, Amélie helps me out a lot when she can.”

“I see not only you share a house, you two now share a pet,” Satya smirks, hiding it with a closed hand. “That’s so… domestic. I’m proud of you, Lena, for taking this relationship one step further. Although I still think you should ask her out on a date first before bringing a pet into this relationship, but I guess you were never one to follow the order of things.”

Lena sticks her tongue out and crosses her arms, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sat.”

“Sure you don’t,” Satya brings the tea cup to her mouth, takes a sip while staring into Lena’s eyes. “Just like you don’t know how much you are head over heels for Amélie.”

“You’re worse than Ange,” she drops her shoulders in defeat and grabs her coffee. “Why can’t you two let me deal with this on my own? I’m doing fine!”

“If by fine you mean you’re doing nothing about it, then yes,” Satya says, looking at her nails. “You’re doing just fine, my friend.”

Lena drops her head on the table, groaning. Satya shrugs and opens her book, ready to continue the conversation whenever Lena decides to stop acting like a child.

“Can’t we just talk about something else?” Lena mutters, head still lying on the table.

Satya shrugs, “Fine by me.”

“So,” she starts, looking Satya in the eyes. “How are things with Fareeha?”

“We’re doing pretty well,” Satya smiles softly, reaching for her cup. “Thank you for asking.”

“Whenever I see her on her phone she’s always talking to you, you know,” Lena says, grinning. She gets her head up from the table. “She’s so in love, Sat, it’s cute to see.”

Satya simply blushes instead of answering, and her smile is filled with happiness. Lena feels happy too, feels happy that her friends are in a fulfilling relationship and are very happy together.

–

“Tomorrow’s the game, you know,” Lena sits on the couch, right next to Amélie, and bumps their shoulders together. “Have you decided yet?”

Amélie stares at the TV for a moment before shifting her attention to the woman next to her, “I’d like to observe first, and if it interests me, I’d like to join your group, if it’s okay with everybody.”

“Sounds fair!” Lena crosses her legs on the couch, then leans back and forth in excitement. “You’re gonna love them! They’re an awesome group, I love hanging out with them.”

“Who’s in it?” Amélie asks, changing channels, but not paying attention to the screen.

“Well, there’s Hana, Lúcio, Genji, his brother Hanzo,” Lena counts on her fingers. “Satya, Fareeha and Angela!”

“That’s a big group,” Amélie looks a little taken aback, caught by surprise with the number of people.

“They’re quiet, though!” she rushes to calm Amélie down. “I promise, we’re all pretty quiet and all that.”

“I’ll trust you, then,” Amélie smiles, still surprised by the amount of people in the group. “I hope they’ll accept me in the group, whether I’m just watching or playing as well.”

“Oh, don’t worry, love!” Lena pats her on the shoulder. “They’ll love you!”

“Will they now,” Amélie raises one eyebrow, skeptic.

“I mean,” Lena raises one hand and twirls it with a flourish. “What’s not to love?”

That makes Amélie double back, eyes wide, caught by surprise. Lena blushes once she realizes how flirty she sounded, and doesn’t know how to take back what she said.

“You’re great and all, you know?” she says because she can’t seem to be able to stop herself. “You’re funny and nice, and you’re pretty calm and focused; we could use someone like that in our team!”

Amélie’s eyes are back to their normal size and the woman chuckles lowly, “Why, thank you, Lena. You flatter me too much.”

Lena waves off one hand.

“It’s only the truth, Amélie,” she says. “You’re great, accept that.”

“Alright then,” Amélie smiles, sweet and soft and Lena is in love once again. “If you say so.”

–

“It really is TA Lacroix!” Hana yells as Amélie opens the door. Lena winces at the volume as she walks up to the door. “Man, it’s so good to see you! Your lectures are way better than our actual professor.”

“Uh, thanks?” Amélie laughs nervously, stepping away so Hana can come in.

“Hana!” Lena jumps into the woman’s space, engulfing her in a bear hug. “You were the only one missing, come on!”

Hana huffs out all the air in her lungs as she tries to get away from Lena’s tight grip. Lúcio comes from the living room and high fives her once she is released from the hug. They all go back to where the rest of the group is, and Hana greets everyone excitedly.

“Sorry is Hana did something weird,” Lena whispers as close as she can be to Amélie.

“Don’t worry about it,” Amélie waves a hand off in reassurance. “She’s just as excited out of class as she is in it, it seems.”

“Hey, Hana!” Genji practically yells, arms stretched out so they can hug.

She runs into his arms and he spins her around twice before letting her feet touch the ground. Amélie smiles at the interaction and Lena gathers them all to sit around the table, where the game of Dungeons and Dragons is set.

“So, who is the… uh, DM? Is that the word?” Amélie asks as she gets comfortable in her seat.

“It is,” Satya raises one hand elegantly, “And I am.”

“Satya is the best at creating scenarios and battles!” Hana quips, holding Satya by the shoulders and shaking her slightly. Satya’s lips tighten, but she doesn’t brush her friend off. “It’s tough to kill her monsters because she thinks up several types of movements they can do and she’s always ten steps ahead.”

Satya blushes, feeling flustered, and Lúcio rolls his eyes, though he smiles anyway.

“Well,” Satya claps her hands, seeming excited. “Shall we start?”

–

Just like Hana said, Satya is, in fact, a great DM. She takes the story and makes it her own, creates difficult battles for her players and helps them when they need, because while she is tough, she is also loving. The world bends and breaks and molds at her will, and it’s a beautiful sight to see. Amélie is nothing if not impressed, and Satya looks at her smugly when she comments on how well she controls the game.

“How long have you been a DM?” she asks during their break, both of them in the kitchen.

Satya stops for a moment and thinks, makes mental calculations, “About ten years, I think. My mother taught me all I know, in fact.”

“So you played with her?”

Satya nods.

“Must’ve been nice,” Amélie comments, staring at her feet. “Having something nice to do with your mom.”

“She was a wonderful woman,” Satya says, her eyes focused on something far away from where they currently are. “I have yet to meet someone as great as she was.”

“Not even Fareeha?” Amélie smirks, bumping their shoulders together in playfulness.

“She is also a great woman,” Satya freezes at the contact, but manages to relax after a couple seconds. “And I make sure she knows it every day.”

Amélie smiles, admiring the love shared between those two women. She opens her mouth to speak again, but Hana’s voice stops her.

“Break time’s over!” she peeks her head over, grinning widely. “Time to go back to kicking our asses, Satya!”

Satya chuckles lightly as she walks towards Hana, Amélie following right away. Everyone is already sitting at the table, eager to continue their journey. Satya sits down on her place and checks on her papers to continue the story.

She starts narrating it in the most captivating way possible, as far as Amélie can tell, and everyone seems enthralled by it. The scene she describes has the heroes trapped in a dungeon, about to face off an ancient dragon. All of them, Amélie included, are at the edge of their seats, barely containing their excitement over how the battle will go.

“You all feel a trembling beneath your feet,” Satya says, her eyes focused on the dragon figurine she has on her hand. She places it in front of the other players’ figures. “In front of you stands a great dragon, tall and proud. Fire comes out of his nostrils. His right paw scratches the ground, an uncomfortable noise resonates through the air.”

Genji practically jumps out of his seat, one palm hitting the table soundly. Hanzo squints his eyes, as if he’s not at all pleased with his brother’s action.

“I lunge forward and attack him with my glaive,” he almost yells and a flash distracts him. “The fuck was that?”

Lena lowers her phone, wicked grin on her face, “Just sending Jesse something I’m sure he’ll appreciate.”

Genji flushes and plops back down on his seat, eyebrows drawn together, “I don’t see how he’ll appreciate me yelling about trying to kill a dragon.”

Hanzo snorts, ignoring his brother’s elbow on his ribs.

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll like it,” Lena giggles at Genji’s pout.

“I don’t see you taking pictures of Angela to send them to Mei,” he counters, pointing to the woman in question.

Angela takes out her own phone and raises two fingers two her face, pursing her lips, and takes a picture. She taps away for a few seconds and then looks at Genji, smug.

“There, picture sent,” she says and there’s laughter in her voice. “Now Mei has something to appreciate too.”

“Roll for initiative, please,” Satya draws their focus back on the game, and Genji seems to appreciate the action.

Lena snickers as she sends the picture, then she puts her phone away and rolls a dice.

“Twelve,” Lúcio says looking neither satisfied nor dissatisfied with his number.

“Five,” Hanzo grumbles as he crosses his arms.

“Twenty,” Genji looks smugly over his brother, who simply rolls his eyes as a response.

“Nice, Genji!” Hana pats him on the shoulder in congratulations. “I got nine.”

“It’s a ten for me,” Fareeha sends a wink over Satya’s direction, and the woman blushes even though she’s trying to remain serious.

Angela drops her head on the table, raising one finger. Lena laughs, patting her on the back.

“Mine’s fifteen.”

Satya nods, satisfied.

“It’s a nineteen for the dragon,” she says after double checking her own die. “Genji, what will you do?”

Genji cracks his knuckles as he examines the table. Satya raises one eyebrow, patiently waiting for his move. He starts to narrate his attack with gusto, arms flailing as he gets more into it.

“Roll for attack,” Satya instructs, already used to Genji’s excitement when it comes to battles.

He rolls the die and groans – a ten is not enough to hit the dragon, unfortunately. Satya chuckles lightly as Lúcio reaches over to pat Genji on the back. Next up is the dragon, and Satya’s action for it is to attack Fareeha’s character. The dice rolls and Fareeha’s character – Pharah, a human paladin – takes only twenty five slashing damage, thanks to her saving throw.

“Time for Tracer to save the day!” Lena quips, throwing a grin in Hana’s direction. “I put on my invisibility cloak on and run behind the dragon, then I do a sneak attack.”

Satya nods approvingly and tells her to roll. Lena gets a higher number than Genji – high enough to hit the dragon.

“Dagger dagger dagger, guys! It always works,” Lena says excitedly, throwing her hands up in the air. Amélie laughs, teeth hidden by her hand, and Lena blushes at the sound.

“I still stand by the Zone of Truth,” says Fareeha, arms crossed even though she’s smiling.

“Of course you do,” Lúcio laughs, ready for his turn. “I sing a sweet tune to inspire D.va and get some distance between me and the dragon.”

“Aw, thanks, boo,” Hana winks at Lúcio, who grins and extends his hand for a high five. Their hands meet with a loud slap.

Satya nods in approval of his action, then turns her head to face Fareeha. Her eyes soften as she looks at her girlfriend, and she slightly bows her head as if to say it’s her turn.

“Right, uh,” Fareeha ponders for almost a minute, unsure of how to proceed. She rests her chin on top of her right hand, her left holding her right elbow. “I’ll… I guess I’ll do a – a Staggering Smite on the dragon, and then taunt it. That’s, uh, that’s it for my turn.”

“Alright,” Hana rubs her hands, ready for her turn. “D.va will raise her greataxe and rush ahead, bashing in the dragon’s head. And I’ll roll a dice for inspiration.”

“That is correct,” Satya nods, smiling. “You may use your inspiration die any time you want.”

Hana rolls it and fortunately gets a high number, which makes it possible for her to hit the enemy. The dragon is taking quite the damage from the heroes, but Satya doesn’t seem too worried about it.

“Hanzo, it’s your turn,” Satya says as she looks at the man.

He nods, “I’ll attack the creature and I’ll spend one ki for a Flurry of Blows.”

“Certainly. Please roll to see if you hit him.”

Hanzo does so and the number is low, so the dragon evades his attacks with an eased grace. Hanzo grunts in disappointment, but comments no further, and Genji bumps their shoulders together as if to say it’s okay, it’s not always that you can get a high enough number to hit.

Finally, it’s Angela’s turn. She stares at Satya for a quick moment before examining her character sheet.

“Mercy turns into a tiger,” she starts, smiling confidently as she speaks. “And then lunges forward to slash the dragon.”

Satya nods, looks as if she already expected it, “Roll, please.”

Angela throws her dice on the table, watches excitedly as it rolls, hoping the number will be high. Fortunately for her, it is, and Mercy can attack the dragon while in tiger form. Lena claps her hands, congratulating her friend, and Angela chuckles.

It’s the top of the round again, and while Genji plans his next move, Satya seems to know exactly what to do to crush them.

–

The game takes another two hours to finish, one hour alone to defeat the dragon – which they do, albeit with some great struggle; Satya is great like that. Amélie is thoroughly impressed, and has already made up her mind on whether or not she’ll join them next time.

She motions Lena to get her attention, and the woman skips over to her side.

“Yes, love?” Lena asks, big bright eyes staring expectantly at her. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Very much, yeah,” Amélie smiles as she looks over Lena’s shoulder, all the way over to where Hana, Genji and Lúcio are gathering together, talking about who knows what. They seem happy, and Amélie would like to have that back. “And I think I’d like to join you guys, if the offer is still out there.”

“Of course it is!” Lena opens her arms and jumps back, turning to face the others. “Guys, guys! Amélie said she wants in!”

“Ooh, TA Lacroix! That’s awesome!” Hana says excitedly, joining the two with Lúcio and Genji right behind her. “You’ve always been my favorite TA, now I know why.”

Amélie doesn’t know how to respond, so she simply laughs.

“We have to get you into our message group,” Lúcio says, already picking up his phone. “What’s your number? So I can add you.”

She tells him her number, and he quickly adds her to the group. He grins and gives her the thumbs up, to which she gives him one right back.

“We’ll be leaving now,” Satya cuts their chatter rather abruptly, though they’re all used to that by now. She’s holding hands with Fareeha, who’s carrying both their Dungeons and Dragons things. “It was a fine evening. Thank you for having us over, Lena.”

“My pleasure, love!” Lena mock-salutes, smiling. “You guys can always have the sessions here if you’d like, I don’t mind. I mean –”

“I don’t mind either,” Amélie lays a hand on Lena’s shoulder, and somehow misses how the woman shivers slightly to the touch. “You all seem fun to have around, so it sounds like a good idea to have the games in here.”

“Yeah!” Lena grins at the others, fighting off a blush that is trying to creep up on her cheeks just because of her proximity to Amélie. “Plus we’ve got enough space for everyone!”

“That you do,” Satya nods, analyzing the room. “You’ve convinced me, we’ll have our next meeting in here. Fareeha and I will make sure to bring some snacks.”

“Nice,” Genji whispers, looking excited.

–

OVER THE WATCHES

hana (d.va)

[picture attached]

reminds u guys of someone? ╰(・∇・╰)

tracer

HANA

JALKSHFKJSDALHFKSDJA

amélie

?

What is this?

tracer

NOTHING

IT’S NOTHING;A;

NOTHING TO SEE HERE

AJLSKFNSAKJLFA

hana (d.va)

(๑♡3♡๑)

tracer

HANA I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN

YOU WILL REGRET THIS

the cooler shimada

lmao

hana that’s terrible

lena doesn’t deserve this teasing

hana (d.va)

mean!! ( ≧Д≦)

the cooler shimada

lmao lena i’m so sorry

hana can be the worst sometimes

hana (d.va)

i’m the greatest thing in your life genji shimada

don’t u try to say otherwise

the cooler shimada

can’t deny that

<3 <3 <3

hana (d.va)

( ˘ ³˘)❤

tracer

u two are dead 2 me;

–

“How come you never told anyone why you moved back to London?” Lena stands by Amélie’s bedroom door, hesitating to take a step further without the other woman’s permission.

Amélie leaves the magazine she was reading on her lap and looks at Lena. There’s a seriousness on her face Lena has never seen before, and that surprises her a bit. She almost regrets asking Amélie what she did, but before she can take it back, Amélie walks up to her with her phone in hand.

It takes her a couple seconds of tapping away before she finds what she wants, and then she turns the phone so Lena can see it. She hands it to the other woman, saying nothing at all.

It’s a news article, where the headline reads: THE RISE AND FALL OF A BLACK TRANS WOMAN BALLERINA

Lena’s eyebrows rise before she even finishes reading the title. She knew Amélie was into ballet and went to France to have a career in it, but she never knew it hadn’t worked out like she expected to – though, now that she thinks about it, it should have been obvious, with how Amélie hasn’t said a word about ballet since she came back, how she avoided any kind of conversation about France and what happened there.

She reads the whole article quietly, as fast as she can, and doesn’t dare to look at Amélie until she’s finished.

“So… you and Gérard…”

“He was another ballet dancer,” Amélie explains, crossing her arms and looking at her feet. “We hit up quickly and were partnered up because of that.”

“I see.”

“We started dating,” Amélie says, still not looking at Lena. “Years later we married, but then –”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Lena lays a hand on Amélie’s shoulder, trying to comfort her.

“I know,” says Amélie, finally meeting Lena’s eyes. “But I want to. I have to. Talk to someone about this, I mean.”

“Alright,” Lena nods, understanding. “Go on, then.”

“We were happy, for a while, at least,” Amélie manages a bittersweet smile. “But then it happened. He – he got cancer. Too far into it to do anything about it. I… kept by his side until the end, even though he told me to leave him, live a life without someone like him dragging him down. Che, stubborn man.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that, love,” Lena’s voice is soft, her heart hurts for her friend. “It must’ve been tough.”

“It wasn’t that bad – not at first,” Amélie says. “The last month was the worst, though.”

“I can imagine.”

“Didn’t take long for me to come back here after his death,” says Amélie. “I wanted nothing that would remind me of him after his passing.”

“It’s understandable,” Lena removes her hand and gives the phone back. “I wouldn’t want to be reminded all the time of someone I lost.”

They keep quiet for a while, simply looking at one another. Lena doesn’t know what to say, and Amélie seems fine with not talking, so neither says a single word.

“You know,” Amélie starts after a while, eyeing Lena as they both smile slightly. “I’m glad you called me when you did. I needed a place to stay and I couldn’t have gotten a better roommate.”

“Glad you enjoy my company, love,” Lena chirps, elbowing Amélie amicably.

Amélie chuckles lightly.

–

“Amélie?” Lena asks, entering the hallway. “Are you going to take Winston for a walk?”

“Yes,” she says, finishing checking Winston’s collar. “Want to come?”

“Sure,” Lena steps back, pointing one thumb backwards. “I’ll just grab my sneakers.”

Amélie stretches, waiting for Lena to get back. It doesn’t take long – Lena’s fast, was on the track team when she was in high school.

“Shall we?” Lena asks, extending her elbow to Amélie, who laughs as she intertwines their arms together.

Leash on one hand and arm crossed with Lena’s, Amélie waits until the other woman opens the door so they can go for their daily walk.

It’s a nice afternoon outside, the wind is blowing not too strong nor too weakly and the sun is not too bright. There are only a few people in the park, some are running, some are simply walking, some even brought their dogs like they did.

Their arms are still linked together, and Lena feels giggly inside because of that. She has yet to gather up courage to tell her feeling to Amélie, but she’ll take what she can get in the meanwhile. Amélie seems to be enjoying herself, too, and that makes Lena happy.

She likes it when Amélie is happy.

–

OVER THE WATCHES

tracer

[picture attached]

hana (d.va)

aaaah 2 cuties and a pretty dog!!! (✿♥‿♥)

lúci-ohs

WINSTON!!!!!!!!

the cooler shimada

winston’s the best dog

what a cute

hanzo

You two look great.

Winston is as adorable as ever.

pharah-eeha

girls you two look amazing! love the lighting in the photo!!

satya vaswani (symm)

A most admirable picture, you look like a great couple

hana (d.va)

SATYA!!!! (´つヮ⊂)

U SEE LENA IT’S SATYA NOT ME THIS TIME

tracer

u are all terrible

i’ll never let u pet winston ever again

hana (d.va)

NO!!! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

I DID NOTHING I AM INNOCENT

tracer

no petting the winston

final word

hana (d.va)

SATYA LOOK AT WHAT U DID

satya vaswani (symm)

I don’t see a problem with this

hana (d.va)

that’s bc u hate cute things

like all of them

satya vaswani (symm)

That is a lie

I love cats

We are very much alike, in fact

pharah-eeha

you and cats are both super cute, yes

hana (d.va)

stop being supportive of your gf

it’s homophobic

pharah-eeha

????

how so?

hana (d.va)

i’m gay and don’t have a gf myself

this is a personal attack against me

the cooler shimada

LMAO

poor hana

forever dateless

hana (d.va)

genji don’t even

i’ll cut u (ง •̀_•́)ง

the cooler shimada

ooh

scary

tracer

guys

please

let’s go back to my cute dog

hana (d.va)

no

lúci-ohs

mood

the cooler shimada

mood x2

angela

he’s adorable!

tracer

thanks ange

ur a blessing

amélie

We make a great couple, huh, Satya?

I wonder…

tracer

???

amélie????

what does that mean?

?????????????????

hana (d.va)

( ◐ω◐ )

–

Amélie doesn’t act like she said anything different on the group chat, keeps on going with her life as normal while Lena spins the words inside her head several times during the day. She wants to know what it means, but lacks the courage to do so.

–

“Oh,” is all Lena says when she spots the woman sitting on her couch. “Hey there, Sombra.”

“Hey yourself,” Sombra winks at her and does finger guns. “How you’re doing?”

“Good, good,” she sits next to the woman, turning on the TV. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, you know, just waiting for Amélie so we can go bother Gabrielito into taking us shopping,” Sombra waves off her hand, as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary. “Wanna come?”

“Thanks for the offer, but no,” Lena tilts her head slightly, as if to say sorry. “I have tons of homework to do yet, but maybe next time?”

“I’ll hold you to that, hermosa,” Sombra clicks her tongue and gets up, walking in the direction of Amélie’s room. “Come on, lazy girl, we need to get going.”

“Just wait a damn second,” Amélie yells behind the door. “God, it’s like you’re an only child who doesn’t know how to wait for the things they want.”

“Well, I am an only child,” Sombra rests on the door and shrugs, causing Lena to giggle.

Sombra winks at her again.

–

“Uh,” Lena starts, walking over to Amélie cooking dinner. “You know I love having you as a roommate, right?”

“Yes?” Amélie doesn’t even take her eyes off the pan, too focused on not burning the food to pay attention to the other woman – or anything else, really. “Sorry, did you want something? I’m kind of busy here, you see.”

“Yeah, actually,” Lena breathes in, then out. “I wanted to talk to you about your beauty products in the bathroom.”

“What about them?”

“Well, you know,” Lena rubs the back of her neck, hesitant to keep talking about this, afraid they’ll fight. “They’re kind of everywhere? I don’t have space for my own stuff, is all.”

“What stuff do you even have?” Amélie finally breaks off her stare of the pan to look at Lena in the eyes, one eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip. “I don’t see you wearing makeup. Like, I’ve never seen you with it the entire time I’ve known you. And I’ve known you for a long time by the way.”

“Alright, so I don’t have any beauty products of my own,” Lena nods, giving that point to Amélie. “But still! Your stuff is everywhere! It’s bothersome.”

“Is it really?”

“Yes! I don’t have space to put my shampoo and conditioner in there,” Lena says, almost exasperated. “It’s kind of annoying, love.”

“You’re calling me ‘love’ even though you’re mad at me,” Amélie chuckles, amused. “How cute.”

“Don’t ignore the problem here!” Lena huffs, crossing her arms. “Come on, are you going to put your things somewhere else or what?”

“Do I really have to?” Amélie groans, rolling her head backwards for a moment before getting her attention back to the pan. “I don’t even have that many things.”

“Amélie, you’re being unreasonable,” Lena says; her is tone more serious than Amélie has ever heard. “Come on, it’s not that difficult. Just take some stuff off of the bathroom and put it in your room or whatever. I live here too, I need the space.”

Amélie sighs, turns to face Lena, “Fine, whatever. I’ll finish this and then I’ll do that.”

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Lena smiles, glad this was resolved without many problems. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Amélie waves her off, shooing her from the kitchen. “Now let me work.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

–

“Hey, Ange?” Lena asks, taking a sip of her coffee before continuing. “What do you think Amélie meant by those texts she sent on the group chat?”

“I wonder,” Angela deadpans, staring straight into Lena’s eyes. “I already told you, Lena, she likes you. It’s not that hard to figure out from then on.”

“Then why hasn’t she said anything?” Lena puts both her arms up, frustrated. “Why is she being this cryptic if she really likes me?”

“Why haven’t you told her yet?” Angela smiles when Lena stops dead on her tracks, blushing.

“That’s neither here nor there.”

Angela shrugs, takes a sip of her beverage, “If you say so.”

–

They’re walking Winston on the park again, but their arms aren’t intertwined this time, which Lena mourns. She’d like to do that again. She’s just not sure Amélie feels the same way.

She wishes Amélie is, but wishing is far, far away from reality.

–

Winston jumps on the couch next to Lena, and cuddles up to her. She laughs and rubs his head, and he wags his tail happily.

“You look cute like that,” Amélie comments as she sits on Lena’s other side. “I mean – you two look cute.”

“Ah,” Lena says, surprised to see Amélie at home. She thought the woman was at the university, grading papers and helping students and whatnot. “Thank you, I guess.”

Amélie smiles softly, changing her attention from Lena to Winston and back to Lena again. Lena feels the blush coming, and she tries to fight it off.

“I’m glad you found this beautiful boy, you know?” Amélie says, voice low and calm as she stretches over Lena to pet the dog. “He’s been a great companion when I’m the only human in the apartment.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Lena tries to ignore how her heart beats faster because of this proximity, and keeps her attention on Winston. “He’s a great little puppy, isn’t he?”

Winston barks excitedly, and jumps on both their laps. Amélie laughs, the sound is like music to Lena, and she savors the moment as much as she can.

–

It’s another Saturday, and the group is back at Lena and Amélie’s apartment for another session of Dungeons and Dragons.

“Why don’t you introduce your character to us, Amélie?” asks Satya.

Amélie nods, “Her name is Widowmaker. She’s been brainwashed by an evil group years ago, and now they use her assassin skills to take down their enemies.”

“Ooh,” Hana says, resting her chin on both hands. “Why is she named like that?”

There’s a long pause before Amélie looks at her, smiles grimly.

“It’s because her first victim was her husband.”

Lena stops dead on her tracks, stares at Amélie in concern. She doesn’t say anything out loud, doesn’t want to draw attention to the elephant in the room, doesn’t want to possibly make Amélie uncomfortable by making her tell everyone the reasoning for that specific character history.

“That’s sad,” says Lúcio. “I hope she won’t hate herself for that later.”

Amélie shrugs, “Who knows?”

“You created a very sad character indeed,” Hanzo organizes his character sheets while he talks. “But unfortunately we still need a cleric in our group. Why didn’t you make one?”

“Satya said I could create whatever I wanted,” Amélie shrugs again, not worried at all with Hanzo’s slight frown. “Plus, she can make us a cleric at any given time in this campaign.”

Genji turns his gaze to Satya, mouth agape, “You could have given us a cleric all this time? Why the hell haven’t you?”

“I didn’t feel like you needed one,” Satya explains, fingers intertwined. “You all have been doing so well with what you’ve got, plus there’s health potions aplenty for the entire group. You’re doing fine, and if you ever need one, worry not. I will create a cleric for you.”

Genji huffs, but lets the subject go. Satya smiles graciously, looking over everyone in the table.

“Now,” she says, raising both hands to her sides. “Shall we begin?”

–

After the game is over, Lena calls Amélie and brings her to a corner where no one can hear them talk.

“Do you feel like Gérard dying was your fault?” she’s blunt, doesn’t skirt around the issue, and tries not to feel bad when Amélie winces. “Because it’s not, you know. He was going to die no matter what.”

Amélie scoffs, crosses her arms and looks to the side, “I could have done more for him.”

“If you say so,” Lena rests one hand on Amélie’s shoulder. “But I’m sure you did everything you could for him. It’s not your fault, love. You need to move on, you can’t keep beating yourself up over this.”

Lena watches as Amélie tries to come up with something else to say, but in the end she gives up, drops her head and sighs.

“You’re right,” she says, raising her head to look at Lena. “I should’ve done that already. Or rather, I should’ve tried harder than I’ve been for a while.”

Lena smiles gently, grabs one of Amélie’s hands, “You’re strong, you can do this, I know it.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” Amélie smiles back, a small one, though.

Before letting go, Lena feels Amélie tighten the hold of their hands for a moment.

–

“Pay attention to class,” berates Satya, staring straight ahead and paying attention to the professor.

Lena jolts from her daydreaming, “Sorry, what? I wasn’t – I was – sorry, love, did you want something?”

Satya sighs, rolling her eyes.

“Stop thinking about your crush and start paying attention to class,” she hisses, though her tone is not mean, rather concerned with Lena’s being. “Otherwise I’m afraid you’ll fail.”

Lena straightens her back, grabs a pencil and tries to pay attention to what the professor is teaching.

“Much better,” mutter Satya. She’s wearing a satisfied smile on her face, though Lena can’t see it.

–

That’s it, Lena thinks, I’m going to tell her how I feel today. No more faffing about.

Is what she tells herself, but in reality she can’t even get out of bed, nor leave her phone. Of course, she still has time – Amélie is at the university, teaching classes and whatnot, while Lena decided to take a day off of her own classes, pretended she was sick. It’s not something she does, not usually, but she woke up with a feeling in her gut, as if she shouldn’t waste even more time not telling Amélie how she feels.

Certain words and phrases swirl in her mind, trying to form the perfect love confession. She shakes her head, unsatisfied with everything she comes up with.

Her door is closed, so she has to force herself to get out of bed to let Winston in when she hears him whine from the other side. He jumps on her bed and makes himself comfortable, and she simply laughs, amused by the dog’s actions. She’s happy she has him, he can calm her down in the worst of times.

She looks at the time – there’s still a couple more hours until Amélie is back, so she can come up with something better to say.

“Amélie, I – I like you,” Lena says, both hands holding Winston’s head in place. “I’ve liked you for quite some time now, love. And it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way – ugh, this is bad. What should I do, Winston?”

The dog barks right on her face, and she scrunches up her nose.

“Thanks, bud,” she says, deadpan. “I’m sure that will win her over in no time.”

Winston barks again, happy and unknowing of Lena’s inner turmoil. She lets her body drop on the bed, lets Winston lay over her, his head snuggling her chin. She laughs and pats him in the head, staring at the ceiling, hopeless.

They both stay like that for at least an hour, until Lena starts getting cramps from lying in the same position for too long and has to brush Winston off of her. The dog leaves without any fight, happy to run around the house without any worries in the world.

On the other hand, Lena’s still stumped. She has come up with several ideas already, and none are good enough for her – she hates them all. Looking through her phone as a last resort, she searches for common sentences one uses when confessing to someone else.

They’re all silly, corny, too cliché. Useless at best, is her final decision.

Looks like she’ll have to come up with something on her own, then.

–

A few hours later, she hears the front door open. She doesn’t dare to move from her spot on the bed, brain working harder and faster to come up with some decent confession she can make.

Her door is open, so she can hear every movement Amélie makes, from leaving her purse on the table to greeting Winston amicably. Still, Lena hasn’t found it in herself the strength to move.

She hears Amélie’s steps getting closer to her room, but she doesn’t dare to look, rather staring at her phone as if she’s reading something out of it.

Lena lowers her phone when she hears the knock on the door. Her head whips up as fast as she can, her face flushed. Amélie is in her bedroom, lounging as casually as ever on the doorway, a playful smirk on her face.

“Amé…lie?” she asks, almost hesitant. Her heart’s beating fast, hammering on her chest as she tries to make this her chance to confess.

She watches, excitement  and nervousness both growing within her, as Amélie walks up to her. She watches every goddamn slow step Amélie takes, watches the way Amélie’s hair flows, the way her eyes are focused on Lena herself.

Amélie stops at the foot of her bed, hands holding her hips. Lena gulps, thankfully not too visibly, and tries to say something. Amélie seems to be faster, though.

“I’ve noticed some things,” Amélie starts, and all Lena can do is nod. “The way our friends tease about us, the way you talk and look at me sometimes… things like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Amélie. “And I’m – curious, to say the least. Am I right to think you have feelings for me?”

Lena hesitates, too scared to give away an instant response.

“I –” she stops, breathes in, out. “Yes, you are right. I’ve liked you for quite some time now, Amélie. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“That’s the opposite of a problem, Lena,” Amélie stretches out her hand, waiting for Lena to grab it so she can pull Lena up. “You should know, though – I like you, too.”

Lena’s sure her heart has stopped beating once she hears Amélie’s words. She rests a hand where it’s supposed to be, just to check – and yes, it’s beating, but it’s faster than normal.

“Oh, I didn’t realize, honestly,” Lena breathes out as she grabs Amélie’s hand, gets pulled up effortlessly. “So, what now?”

“Well,” Amélie tilts her head, still smiling as sweetly as ever. “Would give me the honor of kissing you?”

Lena chokes, blushes and stumbles into Amélie’s embrace, “Uh.”

“Is that a yes or no?” Amélie seems to be controlling herself not to laugh, which Lena appreciates – a lot.

“Definitely a yes,” Lena nods vigorously, head tilting closer to Amélie’s.

“That’s terrific,” Amélie’s lips are a breath’s away from Lena’s, and they waste no time closing the gap.

–

OVER THE WATCHES

amélie

[picture attached]

tracer

aw

aren’t we the cutest couple

hana (d.va)

HOLY FUCK

@GENJI @LÚCIO U 2 OWE ME 25 EUROS