#estela x leith

[thekriseffect]

A New Beginning (Estela x MC)

[Note: It’s been a while since I’ve posted any of my work on here. I’ve had a lot of change happen in the last few months and just needed time to catch up with it all. That being said, I haven’t given up on writing my fics nor have I forgotten about the requests that have been sitting and collecting dust (for forever, it seems like) in my inbox. I’m officially back on track so keep those asks coming! I love talking to all you lovely readers. Also, I’ve added in some song titles to some of my stories, like this one, in case anyone is interested in where my inspiration came from! Also also, I’ve been entertaining the thought of fleshing out Leith and Estela’s story by writing an actual chapter by chapter, full story fanfiction based off of them. Just an idea.]

[Summary: After the events on La Huerta, Leith struggles to re-adapt to the new seemingly ordinary world where only he knows the truth. It sounds a lot more angsty than it really is, I swear.]

[Song Inspiration: The End of The World- Clinton Shorter]

It seemed an impossible thought: that the world could go on despite everything that had happened to it. That life could go back to the way it was before without so much as a scar left behind as a chilling reminder. That everyone would be oblivious to what they had been put through while being forced residents on La Huerta’s unsettling shores, brushing the events away as if they had never happened in the first place. Like a nightmare you could shake off the following morning after a large cup of hot coffee. Everyone but him.

It’s a time he knows he’ll never be able to forget, no matter how ordinary things currently seem. Experiences like that just don’t go away because the world looks bright and shiny and new again. The memories still chase his thoughts a majority of the time and more than once he’s had to stop himself from doing something rash on instinct. After months of living day by day, hour by hour, well… old habits die hard, to say the least.

It’s a good thing that they don’t have to remember. It makes things easier. They laugh and experience and live in a world where the dark times don’t hover over their heads like giant black rain clouds. Genuine happiness and optimism is all he sees when he happens to cross paths with one of them, which is more than he could have ever hoped for. They’re his best friends. His family. They deserve this second chance. If him having to remember so they don’t is the price to pay then it’s worth it.

It’s a good thing that they didn’t remember, is what he keeps reminding himself. Particularly at this moment as he sits in Hartfield’s crowded library at one of its worn rounded tables, staring at the dark haired girl that’s hunched over a textbook at the opposite side of the room.

It’s the first time he’s seen her here in this world. Only a few short weeks have passed since the change but it might as well have been years for him. Three very slow weeks of living life safe and ordinarily. He’s been bored out of his mind. So much so that an uninvited guest, doubt, had worked its way into his overstimulated thoughts, tricking himself into believing that he’d never get the chance to meet her again. A final parting gift from the island.

She’s kept a low profile since the beginning of the new quarter, just as he knew she would. Blending into her surroundings by never standing out, never being too bold but just bold enough to keep people from making the mistake of forgetting her. But nothing, not even her own persistence, could keep him from noticing her. He wills her to look up, for even a second. Just once.

She doesn’t. Instead focusing on the life in front of her and not the distant dream she can never remember that’s sitting a few tables away, ogling her like the heartbroken fool that he is.

He sighs.

“Leith?” Diego’s voice cuts through his thoughts as he nudges him with his elbow. “You listening?”

“Not really,” Leith says honestly.

His best friends gaze follows his. “You know, the best way to solve that problem is by going and talking to her instead of staring at her like some creep.” Diego pats him on the shoulder. “Just saying.”

Leith’s lips twitch as he reaches for the strap of his backpack. “Thanks for those wise words, Master Yoda.”

“Do… or do not. There is no try,” Diego jokes while shoving him forward. “I’ll see you at the dorm later. Try not to embarrass yourself too much.”

“No promises.”

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Leith asks, motioning to the vacant seat in front of him as he stands next to her table.

Her gaze flicks up to him briefly before returning to the book and messy handwritten note sheets laid out below. “I guess not.”

“Thanks.” He drops his backpack on the thread-bared carpet noisily before flopping down into the wooden chair. It groans as he leans forward to gaze down at one of her many textbooks scattered across the tabletop. “Introducing Archaeology by Robert J. Muckle.” He nods, “Seems fitting.” She raises an eyebrow at him questioningly. “I just mean that it’s an interesting study fit for an interesting person. You’ve got this mysterious vibe going on. I like it.”

She scribbles something out of her notepad harshly but doesn’t look up. “Maybe it’s just with you.”

He pretends to think about it. “Maybe. But I don’t think so.”

She turns her head to read one of her papers and he manages to catch a first real glimpse of her face. Same dark intelligent eyes, same high cheekbones and strong jawline. Same hardness to her expression though not nearly as closed off as before. The caution is still there, it just isn’t paired with harsh intentions fueled by unwavering determination anymore.

He notes that the scar that once ran across the right side of her face, starting from the corner of her eyebrow traveling down her cheek and stopping just above her mouth is missing. Without it she almost looks like an ordinary college student. Almost.

“What made you want to study Archaeology? Or is it something you’ve always known you wanted to do?”

“No, it isn’t something I’ve always wanted to do,” she answers flatly, leaving the rest of the question to hang unanswered in the air around them.

“By the mountain of books you’ve got stacked here that challenges even Everest itself, I’m guessing it’s a demanding field of study. Though there’s definitely worse things you could’ve gone with.”

She doesn’t answer and instead flips the page of her well-used textbook while continuing to believe that if she pretends to act like he doesn’t exist it might actually come true.

The silence that surrounds them is uncomfortable to say the least. It makes Leith’s fingers twitch uneasily on the armrest of his chair. He hates awkward silences. Hates them. He’d rather face a dozen Cetus’ at once than be forced to sit in a situation without knowing what to say or do. So on instinct he begins twirling one of his pencils from finger to finger over and over again, an anxious, long-term habit he formed over the years, as he continues to voice anything that happens to pop into his head. “So do you like going to Hartfield?”

Her pen drops quickly from her clenched fist with a sigh as she straightens. “Do you ever stop talking?” She asks him.

“Nope. I’ve been told it’s one of my many redeeming qualities.”

“Right,” she rolls her eyes. “Redeeming.” Her body goes back to folding into itself, closing off from her surroundings while trying to make herself as small as possible.

He can feel her building up walls against him. Each one thicker than the last like he’s some random insignificant stranger to her, which he technically is. The thought makes him flinch. “You just… seem like someone worth knowing, is all. Someone momentous.”

She blinks up at him as her expression shifts from indifferent to curious within the blink of an eye, as if seeing him truly for the first time. “What makes you say that?”

Her look makes his heart skip nervously. He’s said the wrong thing, he realizes. Too much. He can feel the suspicion growing between them the longer she studies him. It’s one of her talents, seeing the real meaning hidden underneath even the most carefully constructed words. It’s something that first drew him in to her. Something that makes her, her. Though right now he really wishes that wasn’t the case.

Unanswered questions swim in her sable irises as she stares him down. Questions he can’t answer. So he breaks their connection instead and shrugs as if to belittle his words.

“Just an observation, I guess. Most people live their entire lives only seeing what they want to see while pretending everything else doesn’t exist. But you take everything in, the good as well as the bad. And you learn from it. You see everything,” he tells her. “It’s an amazing quality to have. I think more people should be like you.” Her eyes soften slightly and a rare tiny smile curves her lips, something he’s missed so much it nearly takes his breath away. “Plus I’m just good at reading people,” Leith adds.

The smile widens. “Oh is that right?”

“Mhm,” he grins. “It’s what made me want to pursue Profiling. The thrill, the mystery, the hidden answers.”

“The unwelcome probing,” she adds, though that familiar glint in her eyes weakens the meaning of her words.

He smirks at her and holds out his hand. “My name’s Leith Masters.”

She locks eyes with him as her look narrows questioningly until she finally reaches forward to close the space between them. His hand burns as their palms brush and his fingers tingle as her own curl firmly around them. “I’m Estela.”

Pieces begin to realign. Her smiles and quips and teasing healing the cracks that threaten to break him apart from the inside. Slowly he feels his loneliness begin to fade from severe into tolerable. Breathing becomes lighter like a weight has been lifted off from crushing down onto his chest. Vision becoming brighter and more vivid, focusing more steadily on his surroundings instead of living in constant fog like before. Heart pounding stronger beneath his ribs.

He needs this, needs her, to survive. She might not remember it but that doesn’t make it any less true. There is no him without her. This isn’t their end, just a different version of their beginning. A new start.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Estela…”

[thekriseffect]

Our Pivotal Moment (Estela x MC)

[Note: Something sweet, sugary, and cavity warrantied, aimed to make my week and yours even a little bit brighter! I love this pairing. I love writing anything that has to do with them. And I hope you love reading about them as well!]

[Summary: It’s those special moments in- between that make even the gloomiest of situations shine. With this chance to breathe, Estela discovers that maybe there is more for her on La Huerta than just revenge.]

If you had asked her a month ago where she pictured herself at this point in time, marooned on lethal island inhabited by a native blue species while avoiding a mammoth sea god would not have been her answer. Yet here Estela is, existing in a future that shouldn’t be happening while enduring a reality that goes against everything she envisioned for herself. Betraying her goals, her mother’s memory, by caring for things that should seem small and unimportant. And throughout all of it, nothing has ever felt so real to her as this does.

La Huerta acts in many strange ways. Erratic and dangerous, yet strange nonetheless. A step closer to its mysteries answers just causes more questions to surface. More doors to slam closed in her face. The rich line that once separated possible from impossible now mixes to the point where you can’t find where one ends and the other begins. Here, everything exists.

The ultimate Yawning Grave, with festering lands that reek of death and destruction. Clouded breeze punishing to even breathe. The suns rays muted to cold streaks across the vacant but lively skies. No corner of the islet has been left untouched by its corruption, yet Estela has never felt more alive.

A shout close by shatters her thoughts as they swirl in looping circles. She glances down just in time to see Quinn grab a Vaanti by the arm and drag her out into the center of the festivities existing below.

Evidence of the hit against Cetus is still present in the village surrounding them. Charred wood, broken bridges, splintered boughs. The waters remain untroubled, for now, and the Vaanti have taken this standstill as a sign to voice their victory. To honor those who had fought and lost, and those who are still fighting. Her group was committed to helping, and despite the urge to join them and black out all that has happened for even a few fleeting hours, the giant weight sitting low in her stomach makes it impossible.

This is only the beginning.

Firmly linking their hands, Quinn guides the tall woman into fluent movements that mirror her own, all while beaming so brightly it’s blinding. Drums pound like multiple heartbeats to echo their beautiful dancing and the native lets out a laugh as she matches her partner easily. They flow together like two corresponding currents of water, immovable and untamable.

Estela eyes them from up above, entranced. Beneath her dangling feet her gaze tracks the way Quinn’s hands skirt forward and back. The way her steps appear to float a few inches off the ground as she bends and curves. Textured lanterns surrounding the tree’s settlement makes her fiery hair blaze like an inferno of its own and her eyes drop closed while she sways silken in time to the beat. A calmness evens out Quinn’s expression to the point where it disguises her as carefree and young. Happy. The bitter taste of jealousy sours Estela’s mouth as she watches.

Someone clears their throat loudly behind her and she enclines her head to glance back. Leith leans casually against a wooden post with his arms loosely crossed over his chest. An easy smile graces his features that causes her heart to somersault in her chest.

“We really need to stop meeting like this,” he teases. Despite his devil-may-care persona, even from this distance she can see the dark bags circling under his eyes, the way his shoulder are slightly stiff, the tick in his jaw. Others might have overlooked it given that he poses as unphased in nearly all situations. But not her.

“We would if you weren’t so nosy,” she shoots back at him.

“I’m only following Aleister’s orders. He’s very worried about you.”

Estela snorts. “I bet he is.”

At a loss for words, silence blankets them then, thick and full of meaning. It puts her on edge but Leith doesn’t seem to mind. He studies her face quietly while his expression drops into something unreadable and untainted by feelings and thoughts. The amount of control it takes to mask that much emotion terrifies her. Estela’s eyes narrow as she assesses him. “What?”

Whatever he seems to find hidden away there causes him to push away from the post and reach an open hand down to her. “Dance with me,” Leith says.

She stares at him stoically, unmoving. Her heartbeat picks up until it’s thundering in her ears. He can’t be serious. Her? Dancing?

“Why?” she asks cautiously.

“What’s a party without some dancing?” he offers with a grin. She doesn’t move a muscle and instead squints up at him suspiciously. Leith sighs. “No one can see us up here. Humor me.”

She hesitates for a moment before accepting his offered hand while trying and failing to ignore the tingling that travels from her fingers up to her elbow. He gently pulls her up off the distressed boards of the swaying bridge and leads her over to opposite side of the deck, away from the torch light and view of their friends below.

Two brilliantly tinted lei’s hang nearby. Leith reaches for one to drape around her neck, his fingertips brushing against her nape. He moves to do the same for himself with the other band when Estela grips the flimsy material in his hands to stop him.

“Wait.”

She lifts the lei back over her head and instead places it around his neck. The blue petals and pearl feathers cause his eyes to gleam, adding royal flecks to his gray irises that makes looking at him directly even more distracting. The necklaces red pellets enhance the bronze dusting his unruly hair. That’s better. She slips the remaining violet garland over her own head. Leith arches an eyebrow at her.

“I like this color better…” she lies as her cheeks burn, unwilling to meet his stare. He smirks but doesn’t comment.

Gripping her hand in his own, Leith pulls Estela close. His other arm snakes around her back as he begins to rock them side to side in time to an imaginary ballad. Every movement is slow, measured. A silent question that gives her the chance to pull back. She doesn’t and instead rests a cheek against his chest. His heart pounds steady and true under her ear.

Every one of her senses is filled with him. The scorching of his body pressed against hers. The feel on his calloused fingers linking and unlinking with her own. The smell of him; sea salt sun, sand, and something particularly Leith. All of them blended together makes her head swim and she has to pinch her eyes shut to center herself.

Being with him like this is like floating aimlessly in the clouds above. She feels lost in a drunken trance. And despite every interaction with him being a memorable experience in and of itself, this particular moment feels different from the rest. More concrete. A pivotal moment shining clear in a mass of chaotic events. And as more moments-in-between play out, she can feel the tether knotting them together grow stronger.

It should terrify her that this single person can impact her and her actions so easily. But being near Leith has never felt like a weakness, not once. How could something so effortless, so great, be anything but a strength? Being close to him, existing with him, is everything.

Her lips hover against the base of his throat as she stares up at the blackened sky above.

Why does everything feel so right with you around?

Light encircling them cancels out the stars overhead. Glancing up is like peering into an inky abyss. It’s menacing, but the dark has never haunted her. Real monsters don’t need shadows to hide in to survive.

Why do I feel like I’ve known you would happen all along?

So absorbed in her own thoughts, Estela only now takes notice that Leith is rumbling something low in his chest while they move in time with each other in the privacy of their shaded corner. Consistent, alluring, and paced like a song. She tilts her head to listen.

“Are you humming Backstreet Boys?”

He hesitates, their swaying coming to a brief stop before continuing. “Maybe.”

“A big fan of theirs, are you?”

“Of course. They’re the boy band that shaped my heart.” He tightens his grip around her waist and murmurs into her hair. “Add it to the never-ending list of my many redeeming qualities.”

She smiles against his shoulder while biting her lip to keep the goofy grin that threatens to spread across her face at bay. “You’re ridiculous, Leith Masters,” she tells him.

“And you’re remarkable, Estela Montoya.”

[thekriseffect]

You And Me (Estela x MC)

[Note: I’m still practicing writing action scenarios so please excuse the mistakes.]

[Summary: Book 1’s crab fight scene with Estela, slightly altered to fit my own requirements. Estela POV. Enjoy!]

Estela trudges through La Huerta’s alien jungle, dodging low branches and swatting away twigs that ensnare her long hair while wearing a deep scowl as she glares death on the road ahead. Loud footsteps trail in her wake. Leith follows a few steps behind, seeming to catch every loose sprig, every fallen leaf that crosses his path while keeping an unhurried pace as if this were a typical afternoon stroll through the park. It puts her teeth on edge, yet despite her prior threats she can’t bring herself to leave him behind and instead alters her pace to mirror his. The heel of her hand attempts to rub away the headache forming between her eyebrows.

“How do you know where you’re going?” He asks her. She ignores him in hopes that he’ll lose interest.

Despite the perfect weather and midday sunshine burning overhead, the forest is quiet with only the occasional whispering of tree leaves against wind there to break the illusion of stillness. The isles wildlife seems all but nonexistent with neither rodents nor birds to disturb its habitats, and silence blankets them until, “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

The tree line begins to thin and small patches of blue blot the once concealed sky over their heads. The terrain smooths out until Estela’s feet hit stone instead of damp soil. They’re drawing close, she can feel it. The anxious twitching in her fingertips grows with each step forward.

“Where have you been staying this whole time?” Leith’s insistent voice rings out.

Estela rounds on him, offering a scrunched look of irritation that he matches with a small, knowing smirk. “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Yes, and I’m used to getting answers,” he replies back simply. They eye each other before she spins on her heel to face the trail ahead.

“I told you once before, I’m not looking for a friend.” I’m not looking for a distraction, not when I’m this close.

“Who said anything about becoming friends? Maybe I’m just a concerned bystander.” Humor tints his voice. His fingers brush against her wrist to stop her as Estela moves forward and she snatches her hand back instantly as if the contact burned. “Sometimes being alone isn’t the wisest option,” Leith tells her.

“And sometimes smacking the sense back into someone is the only way to make things clear,” she snaps as she puts space between them. “What do you want from me, Leith? Why is getting to know me so important to you?”

He blinks at her, his expression evolving into one she hasn’t seen him wear before. The confusion that swims in his eyes causes his brows to pinch together and his mouth to downturn disapprovingly. “I don’t know,” he mumbles more to himself than to her.

An ironic snicker pushes its way past her lips. “Good answer,” Estela quips, but quickly takes notice that he’s no longer paying attention to her and instead has his gaze fixed on something unseen over her shoulder. His jaw drops open, eyes hardening and pupils narrowing. She tips her head to glance back when he suddenly throws himself on top of her, his weight hitting her like a sack of bricks as the stone of the cliff smacks her back. Pressed chest to chest she can feel their hearts beating perfectly, curiously, in sync.

Estela hooks a thigh around his hip to flip them over and presses the cool steel of her blade against the base of his throat. A small scarlet dot blossoms from the nick on Leith’s neck; a stark contrast against his sun-kissed skin. She bares her teeth down at him while her gaze simmers red before something in front of her, something big, catches her attention.

Offering little to no time to react, a mammoth pincer swings directly into her midsection and hurls her clear across the mountainous landscape. She sucks in a breath, hitting the ground hard, and scrambles to regain her footing. The splintering texture of her spear scrapes her palms raw as she clenches it tightly between her fists and positions herself into a wide, unmovable stance. She directs her attention back at the intruder, but the titan has its back to her.

Leith rolls to his hands and knees when the monster moves to tower over him. It’s colossal body blocks out the daylight above while its black beetle eyes aim on its prey below. He shifts cautiously to the right and it clicks its claws viciously in response.

“Nice giant shellfish,” he hums, lifting both hands. “Why don’t we talk this out like civilized beings?”

With more speed than expected from a creature of its magnitude, the crab springs forward, a resounding clap shattering the air as it strikes. An arm slices over his head as Leith rolls out of the way and bolts into the thick foliage of the jungle. The monster lets out an ear-splitting screech before taking chase after him, uprooting any greenery that barricades it’s path and flinging mounds of rock and earth in its wake. Dumbfounded, Estela sprints after them, weapon at the ready, while they venture deeper into the wild, uncharted wilderness of La Huerta.

The world quakes as the titan continues on its path of destruction. From her current angle she isn’t able to spot either of them, but judging by the creatures roars up ahead Leith can’t be much farther. Her legs protest weakly at her consistent speed but she pushes them aside. Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t die.

She leaps over fallen timber and snaring root-stocks in an attempt to intersect the beast from the side. A massive orange blur comes into view between the numerous trees and boughs. Seeing an opening, Estela hurls her harpoon at the crabs back. Its sharp point ricochets harmlessly off its thick shell before rolling uselessly to the ground below. She curses under her breath and snatches the fallen spear as she passes.

The woods narrow until nothing but small shrubs decorate their surroundings. Distant humming of running water close by tickles her senses before evolving into a feral roar against her eardrums as they draw closer and closer to the islands end. She bursts into the clearing just as the king crab skids off the cliffs edge and pummels down toward the harsh Caribbean waters below.

Her heart stops, breath too dry for her burning throat as she struggles to suck in clean air through her lungs. An emotion, unidentifiable and alien, threatens to choke her while she takes a step closer. Panic. It leaves a sour tang in her mouth that refuses to go away. She peeks over the mountainside’s ridge.

The crab’s frame clumsily scales up the boulders side, pointed limbs fracturing the rock to keep a firm grip while glaring at the dangling figure above that clings to the clifface’s vines and rootlets. Sweat sticks to his flushed face, teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.

“Leith!”

Estela casts her harpoon aside and slides onto her stomach to stretch a hand down to him. Their fingertips brush once, twice, a third time before his slick palm clutches onto hers. “I’ve got you,” she reassures him. The muscles in her arm strain as she helps tug him up past the overhang.

The instant Leith’s boots meet the dirt at the top, a chill runs down Estela’s spine as she watches the monster lose its hold over his shoulder, taking with it half the mountainside and striking the narrow ledge beneath with a sickening crunch that reverberates off the islets abandoned regions.

A tense quiet follows, the world seeming to pause until one by one, birds chirruping voices carry in the sea salt’s breeze once again. A mouse skids over the top of Estela’s sneaker before disappearing into the tall grass. They stand side by side, studying the still carcass of the king crab below with its long limbs angled unnaturally around it’s pulverized torso. Leith whistles lowly next to her.

“Well, that was fun,” he says.

Anger rises up like bile her throat as she lifts her chin to glower at him. “Are you touched in the head?” She jabs a finger in his direction. “You nearly cost us our lives.”

Silver flecks his irises as he frowns down at her. “How is this my fault?”

“We almost got killed because I was focusing on you instead of our surroundings. Because you insisted on coming along.” She snatches her discarded spear from the ground nearby and turns her back to him. “I don’t have time for any of this, for you,” she snaps, unwilling to meet his gaze as it bores into the back of her neck. “Why did you even come after me in the first place?”

“Because you told me to.” Caution laces his voice, eyes growing wary as Estela shifts to face him.

“I… what?”

“Ever since our arrival I’ve been having these weird visions,” he explains. “I can’t explain how; I just know things. See things.” He drops to sit on the ground at their feet, the heels of his hands rubbing tiredly at his eyes as he continues. “Being on this island has been a constant cycle of déjà vu that doesn’t seem to have an end. They don’t feel like dreams but more like—“

“—memories,” she finishes, understanding smoothing out her features. He removes his hands to look up at her.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Memories. Or fragments of them.” He shakes his head slightly. “Having to piece them all together has been driving me up the walls.”

After a stiff moment, she lets out the breath she’s been holding in and bends to sit next to him. “I’ve been having them too. Strange recollections of us in an underground lake where the walls glowed blue with algae, lighting up the cavern. You take my hand and then—“ she cuts herself off abruptly, the tips of her ears heating as she breaks his gaze to fiddle with the loose ties of her harpoon. “And then I wake up. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he answers, eyes distant and lost in his own thoughts. “I think the island is trying to tell us something, I just have to figure out what.”

Estela shivers at the thought. Neither of them say anything then, sitting in a strained silence with unanswered questions capering in the air around them. She needs those answers, longs for them. This unforeseeable existence that shadows her and her classmates on La Huerta is insufferable. Fear now resides in the dusty corners of her subconscious, something foreign to her, but it seems he is just as lost as she is. The thought brings her more comfort than she cares to admit. She draws in a calming breath and lets her eyes fall closed.

Be brave, she reminds herself. Para ti, mamá.

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.

She looks over to Leith, praying he might hold the answers she seek. Willing to accept anything and everything he has to offer, no matter how insignificant. No matter how small. Sensing her unease, he gifts her a reassuring smile. “We’ve got this, Estela. You and me.”

Her mouth tips up and she nods to him once. “You and me,” she agrees.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Although devilry closes in, I am shielded by flame.

[thekriseffect]

This Isn’t You (Estela x MC)

[Note: I’ve noticed a lack in Estela fics or maybe I’m just terrible at looking and I wanted to rectify that. This is my first ever writing post (yay?) and in celebration of book 3 coming out later this month, I wanted to write something Endless Summer. That being said, judge away! Just kidding, I lied. I’m fragile, be gentle.]

[Summary: Takes place during book 1, chapter 2 if you choose to stargaze with Estela during the pool party. Estela POV.]

[Song Inspiration: This Isn’t You- Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein]

A rogue strand of hair obscures her vision as Estela eyes the festivities unfolding beneath her from the cliff’s edge overhead. They are loud, too loud. Blaring music pulsating in time with the strings of brightly lit party lights that are slung over the pools canopies and alcohol induced shouting that travels all the way to the islands uncharted corners. She clenches her fists in frustration every time one of Michelle’s giggles carries up to her, too forceful to be genuine and timed perfectly to keep those around her fixated on herself.

It’s easier for them to pretend that nothing is wrong. Easier to live in this illusion that all is as it should despite the obvious irregularities of their situation, and while she didn’t expect them to be battle ready within a night or two, throwing a poolside party is hardly a top priority. They’re going to get themselves killed.

She watches as the tall, heavily built student helps the bigger one maneuver block after block of cheese chunks inside his mouth. The pale boy, Aleister, observes them from a distance with his arms stiffly crossed and that permanent scowl scrunching his sharp, long features. Then she feels it. The tingling that travels from her spine to the tips of her fingers, all the way down the extremity of her toes and makes the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She shifts her gaze to the right and locks eyes with that boy. Leith. His expression is unreadable and unlike the rest, who lounge around in their swimwear, he’s fully clothed, standing off to the side with another dark haired boy that stands a head shorter than him. She watches as his friend murmurs something close to his ear, his eyes never leaving hers. Her mind flashes back to her dream. The one she had the night before they departed to the island of La Huerta, before she met him.

The algae retracts as Estela lightly touches its powdery, glassy surface with the tips of her fingers. The cave goes pitch black, leaving them in an eerie silence save for their breaths that mingle in the damp air and the occasional disruptions of the warm lagoon around them. Then, ever so slowly, the cavern shines once again with the soft glimmering of sapphires, maroons, and cadmium yellows, one after another. Estela marvels the alien flora as it glows cheerfully and reflects off the rough jagged walls of the isolated cave.

She feels Leith standing next to her, a presence that demands her attention in nearly all situations. The heat of him grazes the side of her arm and causes goosebumps to break out over her exposed skin. Her breathing quickens. She feels his calloused fingers slide down the smooth skin of the inside of her wrist before he laces his fingers with her own and squeezes her hand once, a gesture she returns before turning to look up at him. He smiles softly down at her, palm burning against her own, and takes in every detail of her face; every line, every freckle, every curve, before his gaze settles on her mouth.

Her heart thunders in her chest as she reaches up to lace her fingers in the short hairs at his nape before bringing his face down to hers. Her lips press against his, softly at first, then more demanding as he wraps an arm around her waist and draws her flush against him. She smiles against his kiss and folds her arms tightly around his bare shoulders.

Leith’s face shifts. His eyebrows pinch together and his lips thin in a straight line. She feels the tips of her ears grow hot before breaking his gaze to look over at the others, banishing the thoughts swirling inside her head to the far back corner of her mind. Raj turns to beam at the group with the wedges of cheese replacing his teeth. His friend nearly falls over while clutching at his stomach and howling loudly. Estela stands up and moves to sit on the furthest edge of the cliff away from the events below as their laughter follows her.

Far beneath her dangling feet the Caribbean rolls against the rocks brutally. Above, the unfamiliar stars glitter like little jewels against the blackness of the sky. She studies them for a long time, questioning their origin, until footsteps from behind cause her to glance over her shoulder at the intruder. Leith approaches her with a blanket draped over his shoulder.

“What do you want?” She asks, sizing him up as he steps closer.

“I just thought you might want some company.” He gives her a lopsided grin. Ignoring the narrowing of her gaze as she regards him cooly and the unwelcome energy radiating off of herself, he sits down next to her, thigh brushing against her own, and hands her a woven navy blue blanket that smells of pine needles and campfire smoke. “I figured you’d be cold.”

On instinct she flinches away from his touch and puts distance between themselves. “...Why?”

He raises his eyebrows. “To be nice?”

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him. And he stares back, that mischievous smirk curving his lips once again the longer her look lingers. She takes the blanket from his outstretched hand and drapes it over her shoulders before offering him a small thank you. “Where I come from people don’t do things for you without expecting something in return,” Estela tells him.

He pauses as if considering his answer. “Well maybe some people just want to be liked in return,” he offers.

She snorts. “Isn’t that pathetic? How lonely we all are? How desperately we reach for acceptance?”

“I guess,” Leith says. “But at least I’m honest about it.”

The corners of her lips raise slightly at that. “You’ve got something going for you then, I suppose.”

They sit together in silence then. Her gaze returns to the infinite field of stars above, letting it engulf her, and looks for any sign of familiarity but finds none. Foreign skies for a foreign world. A pair of shooting stars streak across the heavens before vanish just as quickly.

She can feel his gaze on her as he assesses her silently and turns her head to regard him. She takes in the line of his stubbled jaw, the curve of his full lip, the edge of his nose that looks to have been broken more than once. The night sky reflects in his eyes, adopting golden flecks to his smokey irises. He is handsome, she thinks to herself. In that boyish charm sort of way. He offers her a smile that makes his eyes crinkle faintly in the corners and she feels the strong pull to return it when it hits her, crashing into her headfirst.

This isn’t you.

The mission. The reason she joined this trip from the get-go. No diversions, no obstacles, and no complications. Nothing to keep her from accomplishing what she has set out to fulfill, what she must fulfill, even if it kills her. She owes her family that much.

Estela bolts up and away from Leith, the blanket a forgotten pile in the long overgrown grass. “I have to go,” she tells him curtly. His smile drops and his face transforms before her into a mask of neutrality. “Look, Leith. People who get close to me usually end up getting hurt. And I don’t just mean their feelings.”

“Estela—”

“You seem like a good person, and maybe in some other life we could have been friends. But not in this one. Not now. If you know what’s good for you, don’t follow me.” Without waiting for a response, she marches off and disappears into the twilight of the untamed vegetation of the jungle. He doesn’t follow her. Her heart beats a mile a minute and an unexplained ache lodges itself in her ribs that makes every step away more painful than the last.

This isn’t you.