#here's chapter five!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

piscespetals · 1 year ago

Text

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part three here

content: gay pinning, fluff, smut

word count: 7k

thanks for waiting! i hope you enjoy <3

Chapter Four

By the time Sevika returns, you’ve already showered, painted your nails and returned to bed.

Your body is in a lot of pain, which means that you have to take more time than usual to complete these tasks. It’s when you’re back under your duvet and taking some pain medication that you hear the apartment door open.

There’s shuffling and multiple footsteps, surely from Monica and Sevika. So you crane your neck (which is surprisingly painful) in an attempt to hear them better. But you can't.

A few moments pass of quiet murmuring and then the pair of footsteps sound again. This time they pass by your bedroom. The apartment door opens and closes. And you hear the bolt slide shut.

Your find that your muscles begin to tremble from tensing so much, and your neck holds a dull ache from the way that you're lifting it off of the pillow. You exhale slowly, relaxing into the billows and soft cushioning that your bed provides. Everything will be okay.

You know that Sevika is making her way towards you before it even happens. That pull within you…that incredible burn that won't seem to go away–No matter how much you will it to—only grows stronger. For her.

So when your door knob twists, and the wooden door creaks open, you expect it. She stands there before you, eyes rimmed red and puffy, sniffling quietly with hardened lines almost everywhere on her face. A frown—one simple expression that would probably scare others away—is what you notice the most. A telltale sign of her distress; the ultimate reason for your worry.

Silently, she walks into your room, boots clanking loudly against the floorboards. Her feet drag, as if her conversation with Monica has been the most exhausting activity of the day, despite it only being Noon.

Your duvet not only keeps you warm, but keeps you from getting out of bed. It keeps you from going against your better judgment, and it listens to the ache of your strained muscles from the accident of the previous day.

Sevika still remains in her coat, even though it’s considerably warm in your room. It doesn't seem like she’s given herself much time to get settled, with her boots still on as well as her coat, and her car keys being clutched tightly in her hand.

She sits in your bed with careful consideration, even though the air around her stirs with unease. As if she’s afraid to break your bed—as if she’s afraid to startle you.

Her grey irises watch you just as carefully. They hold the same glimmer as yesterday evening when you found her in the hospital waiting room; the same soul-crushing tenderness.

“Why?” You ask. You wince as you try to sit up against your headboard. That alarms her. “I’m okay,” You reassure. “I’m just…” You wince once more. “A little sore. Nothing the doctor didn't warn me about.”

“Did you take your medication?”

You nod, “A while ago.”

You probably should've taken a heavier dosage, but you know that either way, you’d still feel a little pain.

“Okay,” She nods, accepting your answer with furrowing brows. She swallows thickly, eyes leaving yours and darting towards the covers of your bed. They stay there as she remains deep in thought. You watch silently.

“So,” She continues.

A small smile graces your lips. “So…”

Her tongue darts out and brushes against her lower lip swiftly. You try not to follow the movement too closely, but you’d be silly to act like it doesn’t affect you.

“I broke up with her.”

You give her a small nod. “I heard.”

“She didn’t take it well.”

“I figured.”

Another lapse of silence filters into the conversation.

“You can always talk to me, you know.” You continue to watch her, despite the fact that she’s currently avoiding your gaze. “Even if it may be a hard conversation…I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Hmm.” Sevika seems to be far away–mentally.

You don’t know how to bring her back to the present. Back to you.

“Did you know–” Her voice breaks and eyes dart to you. “I was married at one point.”

Your mind swarms. Suddenly, you're pushed back to last week, when Mel accidentally revealed Sevika’s divorce to you. It was a shocking secret to be told. But you felt guilty being told such a thing. So you desperately tried to store it in a place in your brain where it would be easily forgettable.

Until now.

“What am I saying–Of course you know.” She mumbles. It’s quieter. Almost an afterthought. “Mel called me and explained that she had accidentally told you. At first, I was upset. But I realized that she told…you, of all people. You would understand. You always do.” She presses her left palm into the duvet, leaning nearly all of her weight on it. “So I waited for you.” Her eyes lift to yours. Your breath catches. “...To say something,” She rushes. Oh. Clearing her throat, “I waited for you to bring it up. But you never did.” She looks at you like she’s never seen you before, registering every detail of your face with a sense of wonder. “Why?”

You look back with slight confusion because the answer feels obvious. At least for you it does. “When I find out information like that, I want it to be because you’ve told me. And if it hasn’t come from you, then it's not my place to know.”

“I would have told you–”

“Sev,” Your hand lands on hers. Her skin feels soft underneath yours. “I love learning new things about you because I know how you are. Opening up doesn’t come easy for you. But you’re not entitled to me. So I’m happy to experience whatever parts of yourself that you’re willing to share. And if that means that it takes you a while to tell me things like this,” You shrug, squeezing her hand. “Then it takes you a while. I’m okay with that. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, of course you aren’t. You’re bedridden.”

“Oh god.”

She laughs.

Her hand twitches underneath yours, knuckles grazing the inner parts of your palm. “My wife and I were together for 12 years.” She starts again. “We got married young, and for a long while, things were good.” She peers out of your window, her brown study returning. “But we grew up–we changed. She wanted kids and a life outside of my parents house. She didn’t like that we had moved. She didn’t like the town. She missed the city. She missed our old way of things. And my parent’s death…Well, I’ve always believed that it was the beginning of our end. Our trajectory of life stopped coinciding. That made me angry. I had lost my parents. I had lost my current life; the comfort of routines and traditions that I had made. And now I was losing her too. That felt–” Her lips press into a thin line. “I don’t think I had ever felt so hollow before then.”

It’s almost as if the light that consistently hovers above her is now dimmed. You try to imagine a Sevika that isn’t full of life.

A Sevika that doesn’t find even the tiniest bits of happiness in the most mundane activities. A joyless Sevika who doesn’t find humor in your cooking failures and embarrassing childhood stories. A Sevika who you do not know–who is so different from the one that sits before you today. It’s nearly unfathomable.

“I tried to make things right but it just wasn’t working. Living in my parents house was too much. And even more so after the divorce. Too many memories. Too many emotions. The town…Well, there was a reason that I originally moved away from there in the first place. She had moved across the country anyways, and hadn’t looked back after our papers were finalized. I wanted a fresh start too. So I sold my parents' home, packed up and flew back here.”

Somehow, while she was talking, her fingers had become entwined with yours. For a moment, you believe that you feel her pulse. It’s racing.

You feel boneless from the realization.

You want to open your mouth and ask her if she’s alright, but a part of you also doesn't want to push her too quickly.

“When Mel and Alicia told me about you, that you were looking for a roommate,” She wets her lips again. “They had given me all these warnings about you. How particular you are about things. That you’re easily…perturbed. And slightly immature. And a bit odd.”

You scoff, ready to object and fume at the thought of them doing such a thing. But she only regards you with a warm chuckle and smile.

“And,” She adds quickly. “I was a bit thrown off at first. But I also knew that there was a reason they were recommending you to me. And when I met you, it clicked. It just made sense. That feeling of being empty,” Her hands grip yours tighter. “It was gone the first time I saw you. And I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you. Everytime that I breathe the same air as you–everyday that passes with you in my life. That's not…that's not normal. It wasn't my normal, at least.”

Something inside of you breaks.

“And the fact that we were becoming friends, and that we lived together?” She continues. “It felt dangerous. Seeing you that much, being near you that much, and wanting to have more of that. While also not not wanting to ruin things…” You can tell that she’s struggling to vocalize her thoughts in a comprehensible manner. It almost feels as if she wants to say so many things at once. “Then I met Monica. And that was good. That was safer. Because she’s great, and I liked her, and she was familiar...You know? Being with her didn't make me want. It didn't fill me up, not like you…And I needed that. I needed…” Her words hang in the air as she tries to reach for a further grasp of her feelings.

“God, am I making any sense?” She turns back to you, eyes completely blown out now. You’ve never seen her so desperate... She doesn't wait for you to answer. “But then I realized that I wasn't being fair to myself. That I couldn't keep restraining myself. And not to say that I was unhappy with Monica. But she wasn't you. It's you that pulls it out of me. That makes me feel. That annoys me like no other yet manages to weave yourself into the innermost parts of myself.”

For a few seconds, the world stops spinning. And you're just a person, who’s staring back at another beautiful person, feeling seen for the first time ever in your life.

Because she gets it.

Because it’s exactly how you’ve felt ever since she came barging into your life.

You want to speak, but your voice is trapped at the back of your throat.

“I don’t expect for you to respond or for anything to change. It’s probably best that things don’t for now.” Her head is shaking, eyes downcast at your entwined hands. “I just wanted to explain it to you.”

And that’s what really cuts through to you.

Sevika isn’t the type of person to be impulsive. In fact, there’s been multiple times when her constant state of contemplation has annoyed you. So this is particularly out of character for her; to break up with Monica out of nowhere and confess said feelings.

You want to welcome it. But she’s right. This can’t happen. Not yet.

You’re smacked again with the reality of today, and you feel as if you’re experiencing a kind of vertigo. Sevika senses it.

Gently, she stands to her feet, careful not to rock your bed unnecessarily.

“You should rest.”

You don’t object. Instead, you nod, wanting to do nothing more than take a nap and hopefully wake up with a lighter weight on your shoulders. Fatigue floods you without warning.

“Okay,” You mumble, allowing your body to snuggle deeper into the blankets.

It’s only when she’s halfway through the door threshold that she pauses, peering at you over her shoulder to say, “If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room.”

The reminder brings you more comfort than you realize. Enough comfort, in fact, that you finally let yourself drift off into a peaceful slumber.

“I’m just glad you weren’t seriously hurt,” Vander mumbles. His voice is muffled as he takes a bite of his steak. He sits in the seat across from you, mouth almost fully covered by the remarkable amount of facial hair he’s managed to grow since you last saw him. But his eyes speak a thousand words. They gleam with a hint of sorrow. And for a few seconds, you watch as they glide over to Sevika, growing even more delicate before returning to you. “You're the only one who laughs at my jokes.”

You smile, swirling your spoon through the contents of food left in your bowl.

Your left leg is draped over your right, which is something that pained you to do a few days ago. You’re glad to finally be able to sit at the dinner table. The bruises from the airbag and seat belt are slowly beginning to heal. And for the first time in three days, you aren’t confined to your bed watching old reruns of The Nanny. The moment you were able to walk across your room without wincing too badly, you asked Sevika to invite Vander and Hazel over for lunch. It would be something to look forward to, since you have yet to be cleared for your return to work. Plus, you really like them.

“Because,” Hazel interjects. “Your jokes are terrible.”

“They’re a little outdated…” He rolls his eyes. “But they-”

“People like them because they’re entirely unfunny.” She continues. “It’s like seeing an ugly sweater and thinking, God. This is so fucking ugly…I love it.”

A belly laugh leaves you. The kind that nearly has you keeling over with a gummy smile.

In doing so, your socked foot accidentally bumps into one of Sevika’s shins. She’s sitting beside you, eating her food quietly with annoyingly perfect table manners. Her cologne wafts towards you for a split second and it’s crisp. And spicy. And enticingly bitter-sweet.

Her chain necklace clashes against the silver pendant that is also hanging from her neck. And her palm settles onto your knee; fingers spreading firmly against the material of your leggings with incredible sensitivity.

“Sorry,” You mumble.

“You’re good.” But her hand doesn’t retract its touch. Instead, her thumb works into the side of your leg, motions circular. You don't think you've ever been so high off of a simple touch.

Even when she pulls away, your fingers hold your spoon with a death grip and your knee tingles.

Later on, when Hazel and Vander are long gone, a sense of comfort washes over you.

Seconds before Sevika begins to wash the dishes, she brings a chair into the kitchen for you to sit in.

“That way, you can annoy me while I clean,” She mumbles, eyes downcast towards the sink. You know that it’s just an excuse for you two to be near each other. You don’t mind.

You observe her in the peaceful hush of the evening. She has an odd habit of insisting to wash the dishes herself, even though the dishwasher works perfectly fine. You usually don’t object, since Sevika always seems to take extra joy in domestic activities. But you don’t believe that you’ve fully appreciated it until now.

She stands over the sink with the sleeves of her flannel shirt rolled up to her elbows. Her hair has gotten longer, practically touching her shoulders now, and a few wispy strands get in the way of her face. She seems entirely pure right then–forehead creasing with effort and lips pursing in concentration. There’s only the sound of the running water and your racing heart. An emotion close to something deeply reverential fills you.

You’re wrapped up in one of her spare quilts that she’s given you. It smells like her. It feels like she couldn’t be any closer to you. And you feel silly for being so moved by a simple gesture. It shouldn’t feel so intimate. It shouldn’t mean so much to you. But it does.

She glances up at you briefly, almost to check as if you’re still there. And when your eyes lock, you tighten your hold on the quilt. She’s caught you staring.

But you don’t think you have the bandwidth to be able to say anything on the matter.

Of course, Sevika has caught you staring at her countless times before.

But for some reason, this time holds meaning. It has weight, and it feels like solid ground has been placed underneath you. The two of you idle that way for a while. Sevika ignores the running water and her soapy hands.

You’re reminded of the moment, days prior, when she sat on your bed and confessed the unfathomable to you:

I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you.

That sentence rings through your brain so hard that you feel as if your skull rattles.

It's not until you’re sure every one of your bones will break, when she looks away. She resumes her task of dish cleaning and you hover on your stool, struggling to find something more to say.

Mel shivers besides you, wrapping one of your spare blankets around her tightly as she exhales loudly. The two of you are now outside, right in front of the apartment.

You stand much more still, wrapped in multiple layers and a scarf, and hands warm due to the mittens that Sevika gifted you a while back.

“Is it really necessary to wait for her out here?” Mel grumbles. “I’ll turn into ice soon.”

“She’s just a few minutes away.” You crane your neck to look at her levelly. “I told you to stay inside, Mel.”

“And let you wait out here in the dark by yourself?” She frowns, shivering once more.

The leaves rustle in the howling wind, and the night sky is so black that it almost looks dark blue in the moonlight. It’s getting to the time of year where sunsets are occurring sooner. Days are shortening and the weather is incredibly cold. Usually, you find this season a bit hard to enjoy. But Sevika does a good job of keeping the fireplace lit. She has a special recipe of soup that is always ready if you want some and she keeps the storage closet stocked with clean quilts in case you get cold at night. She looks after you more than you do yourself sometimes.

You’re starting to believe that this time of year isn't so bad after all.

“Do you always wait for her out here?” Mel asks. Her voice has grown quieter; tender. You glance at her out of the corner of your eye and you find that she’s gazing at you inquisitively. There’s something about this question that makes you want to shrink a little.

You don’t have the courage to meet her gaze full-on.

“Only if she needs help carrying things.”

“And…she doesn’t mind?”

“I think it took her by surprise at first. She would insist that I stay inside and that she doesn’t need help. But, I would feel bad and still help. I guess now,” You shrug. “It’s just become…a thing.”

You feel like you’re being interrogated.

Sure, Mel has been over since she moved out. But you guess she’s never visited long enough to really see how you and Sevika live.

It makes you feel anxious. Is there something bizarre about your livelihood now? It’s different from the routines that you and Mel had, but it’s not bad… right? Why does she keep grinning like that?

As if on cue, the blinding bright lights of Sevika’s vehicle appears.

“Finally.” Mel grumbles.

You bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile while the black truck grows near. You squint from the headlights, which Sevika turns off almost immediately. Then you’re walking towards the driver's door.

She grins, per usual, through the tinted window. Her full lips are stretched wide tonight, showing a breathtaking smile, as she opens the door and hops down with ease.

“You’re crazy.” She mutters. But her smile remains. “You didn’t have to wait out here in the cold. You’ll get sick.”

“I’m warm.”

“You’re sniffling.” She sends you a narrow glance as she opens the back door and reaches for her work bag.

“Where’s the food?”

“On the other side. I figured I could grab i–” She pauses as you walk around the vehicle and open the passenger door. Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

“You didn’t…”

“I was hoping to surprise you.” She calls.

“You…” Coherent sentences fail to leave your lips as you reach for the oversized paper-brown bag sitting in the seat.

It’s from one of your favorite restaurants, a small shop that usually is open seasonally. You were waiting for it to re-open this year, and have been counting down the days to drive down and place your favorite order. It’s something that you’ve mentioned to Sevika only a few times, but you never thought she would be able to remember it. And with everything that has happened lately, you certainly hadn’t thought that she would go out of her way to find the place.

The truck is too large for you to be able to see her face. So you grab the food and close the door, walking around the front of the truck to see her and Mel talking to each other quietly.

“You didn’t have to get this.” You say, hugging the food to your chest. It’s warm.

Mel whispers something to Sevika as the latter turns back to you. She looks cozy at that moment. Her trench coat is black and she’s wearing a creme beanie, which appears to be keeping her ears warm. You watch as she pushes her tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of her nose and purses her lips.

Her lips.

They look moisturized. There’s a slight gleam to them, a telltale sign that she’s applied more lip balm, and they seem puffier than normal. As if she’s been chewing on them...

She surveys you from head to toe, zeroing in on the mittens that you’re wearing before she hums underneath her breath.

“I wanted to.” She replies.

Your chest constricts. Your eyelids flutter and a sigh escapes.

Mel clears her throat. “Can you two pause the flirting so we go inside? I’m freezing my ass off!"

She doesn’t wait for a response.

Instead, she snickers at the way your eyes widen before running past you and towards the apartment.

You're bundled up wordlessly on the couch, cookies in hand as you watch Sevika bolt into the living room with a spatula.

Hazel cheers from the recliner, and Vander sits only a few feet away from you. He also stands to his feet, face reddening as his hands clench into fists. All three pairs of eyes are glued to the television screen, and your ears ring once more as your friends let out rounds of applause.

“They're trying for another one?” Sevika asks, voice full of mirth.

Vander doesn't break his gaze away from the screen when he answers, “They have enough time to do it. I wouldn't be surprised!”

It's another football Sunday.

You don't follow sports closely so you can't exactly say that you understand the intricacies of what they're talking about. But you can guess that their team is winning by the ridiculous grin on Sevika’s face. She’s supposed to be making lunch, but she keeps returning from the kitchen to get an update on the score. You think it's a funny sight to see, considering the fact that there's a television in the kitchen where she can watch the game. But it’s probably more enjoyable to be viewing it with everyone else.

“Who’s the goalie again?” You ask, hoping to get a reaction out of Sevika. She doesn't particularly enjoy when you fuck up the football terminology. The first few times it was accidental. Now you just do it because you know it'll get a rise out of her.

“Sweetheart…” She doesn't look at you, turning on her heels to walk back to the kitchen. Despite the pet name, you see the slight shake of her head, and there's also a buried layer of tightness in her voice.

It takes all of your strength to refrain from laughing. “It's only a question!”

“Do you not remember my answer from the last dozen times you’ve asked this?” Her voice reverberates off the kitchen walls and travels to where you are in the living room. Before you can reply, Hazel and Vander jump out of their seat again, this time screeching unbearably loud.

“That was a fucking foul!” Hazel’s eyes are deadly as they glare at the screen. Vander's jaw begins to grind.

You hear the sound of footsteps before Sevika appears again, this time with frazzled eyes and a towel draped over her shoulder.

“What happened?”

You swing your leg at the very last minute, muscles tensing as your eyes widen towards the spill before you. “Shit!”

Then you’re laughing at yourself, nearly causing another spill from your piping hot mug of tea.

“Oh god.” Mel grumbles but you can hear a smile in her tone. “What have you done now?”

Another giggle leaves you. “I can’t walk without spilling apparently.”

Within seconds, Mel is already wiping the tile floor with a clean towel.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” You profess, making your way towards her sitting room. You’re visiting the house that she and Alicia have just recently purchased. It’s a bit ostentatious for your liking. But it’s everything that Mel deserves. A part of you even believes that she’ll forever deserve so much more–an entire kingdom of her own if she truly desires.

“Of course!” She croons. “Every time I help you with your messes.”

“....I wouldn’t say every time.”

Her hand slides to your lower back, guiding you towards the nearest piece of furniture. Even though the accident was a a few weeks ago, she still treats you as if you’re susceptible to breaking at any moment. It’s been a little suffocating. But you’re still grateful for her nonetheless.

“Is that a new sweater?” She asks while you sit down. Your gaze falls to the crew neck that you’re wearing, a strong whiff of cologne filling your nostrils.

“Oh. No.” You tug at the collar. “It's Sev’s.”

Silence looms in the air as you anxiously wait for her response. This is a new development. It's not often that you're walking around with Sevika's articles of clothing.

But Mel’s response never comes. When you peer at her, she regards you with gentle eyes and lips that slowly curve. She says nothing more on the subject.

Instead, she hands you the bowl of fresh soup she’s just made. “It's hot. Be careful.”

Of course you don't listen and burn your tongue upon the first sip.

And, as always, Mel scolds you.

And then she helps you.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t stressed out.

Between handling the car repairs from the accident and updating the insurance claim, as well as the weird energy now circling you and Sevika—everything just seems to be a little too much right now.

The first mishap is when Sevika comes home from work to find you with both of your arms hanging in the air, and wax strips attached to your armpits. You usually like to pick up hobbies when you’re stressed out and you’ve always wanted to try waxing. But you hadn’t thoroughly watched the youtube video. So what was originally supposed to be an exciting new activity, quickly became anything but that.

You had been pacing the living room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to work up the courage to pull off the strip. That’s when Sevika unlocks the front door and walks through the threshold, bundled up in layers of clothing as a draft from the chilly evening is brought in with her.

You halt your steps, eyes widening and nose still running.

She blinks back at you, just as bewildered, with lips forming into an 'O' and eyes trailing up and down your physique. “Is everything okay?”

That’s what causes the dam to break; your vision blurs and your chest rises with panic. Then you're crying, “I can’t rip it off!” Your arms raise again, flailing in the air ridiculously as you bring your armpits to the center of her attention.

Her eyebrows lift as realization dawns on her. “Oh,” Is that amusement? Slowly, her lips stretch into a small grin and her eyes begin to sparkle in a way that you usually adore. But not now. Not during an emergency! “Oh, sweetheart.” Her lips press against each other, a poor attempt to hide her mirth, as she kicks the door shut and locks it. Then she’s walking towards you, “Surely, it’s not that bad.”

“It’s awful!” Your eyes start to well again as you gesture towards your pits.

She concedes, gazing at you with an annoying amount of warmth. “Okay, it’s awful.”

You can tell that she’s agreeing with you just to provide comfort. And you hate that it almost works.

“I’ve waited too long, Sev. My skin will rip off!”

She laughs.

Laughs!

You cry harder.

“You’re really,” She inhales deeply, trying to calm her chuckles. “...Quite the thespian.”

“Sevika!”

“Okay, okay. Here,” One of her hands press into the small of your back and guides you towards the nearby couch. “I’ll help. Just breathe.”

Your stress manifests itself in other ways, like when you start bringing home files from your job and reviewing them at night. It’s what you do to keep yourself busy—to keep yourself from hanging around Sevika like a lost puppy every night.

You can tell that she notices it. She stops by your room every once and a while to check on you, and when your replies are uncharacteristically short, she hovers.

She doesn’t truly address it until the fifth night rolls around and you’re holed up in your room again, sitting on your bed with small mountains of paperwork around you. As always, she knocks on the door, you tell her to come in, and she pads into the room with a cup of tea and a snack for you.

When you peer up at her, you notice that she’s wearing one of those cotton t-shirts that always look heavenly on her. Sweatpants hang loosely from her hips, dipping just enough to where you catch a glimpse of her happy trail. And her v-lines are so deep that they’re practically etched into stone. You blink through clouds of brain fog, trying to will yourself to continue breathing. But it’s hard.

“You should take a break,” She mumbles.

Pulling your eyes away from her, you move your paperwork aside, stretching out the sore muscles in your legs. “I’m not, like,” You blink once more. She smells so good. “Overwhelmed or anything.”

Carefully, she places the mug on your nightstand. You watch as her eyes remain downcast. Her hair is freshly washed, slightly damped and tucked behind her ears. The ends are a bit split now, resting ever-so-slightly against the tops of her broad shoulders.

“Here,” She holds out the small ceramic plate towards you. It has a couple of toasted butter croissants. One of your favorites.

Nimbly, you take the plate. Without thinking, you pull your legs to your chest, “You can sit,” And your eyes travel to the spot in your bed where your feet once were. She appraises you for a few seconds, a habit of hers that you’ve grown accustomed to. However, at this moment, it’s difficult to not feel affected by it. It’s difficult to ignore the way that it makes you yearn for so many things.

When she sits down, you notice that it’s much closer than you anticipated.

Then she mutters, “Are you avoiding me?”

So much for beating around the bush.

Something about the way she cuts straight to the point–the way that her gaze has yet to leave you–makes your gut twist. You take this moment as an opportunity to shove a piece of croissant into your mouth.

“Because if you are–” Her right palm presses into the duvet. It’s only inches away from your foot. “If it’s about what I told you last month, then we can just act like that never happened.”

You swallow your mouthful of food, wincing slightly because you failed to chew it completely before doing so. When you glance back up at Sevika, you marvel at the swirl of her irises. She considers you seriously with bated breath.

Then, that’s when you feel it; the sense of complete satisfaction.

Because of her.

A part of you feels silly because how on earth could you run from this? And why would you ever want to avoid this? Avoid her?

There’s an element of stress that you’ve been feeling because this is all new. And it’s scary, and single handedly the reason why she broke up with Monica. But it’s also real and rare and, because of that, something that should absolutely be cherished. Not thrown away.

I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you.

Over the course of this past month, those words have repeated so much in your mind that they’re practically tattooed onto your hippocampus. It’s all you’ve been able to think about, even during the shifts at your job. Even during the calls with your insurance company and the repair shop.

Sevika’s voice always manages to sit at the forefront.

The bed squeaks as she leans more weight onto her left hand, an action that allows her to shift closer to you. You rest your plate beside you on a pillow, croissants and hunger now discarded.

“We don’t have to forget it.” You find yourself saying. You think of the countless mornings that she makes you breakfast, and the times that she sits with you in the living room despite her lack of interest in the television programs you pick. You think of the evenings that you stand outside the apartment, waiting for her to arrive home from the store; how she always bears the heaviest grocery loads in spite of your objections.

Shaking your head, you correct yourself. “I don’t want to forget it.”

Your mind travels to all the other moments that you’ve shared with Sevika. The notes that she leaves on the refrigerator, encouraging you to have a good day. And the spare blankets that she always washes for you; in case you become cold during the night.

Then there's the fact that she doesn’t become angry at your music playing in the late hours of the day. And her unwavering forgiveness after everything that happened with Monica; after all the times you’ve tested her patience.

“It’s just that this is so new,” You gesture to the small space between you and her. “And I don’t want to mess it up. And on top of that, I’m trying to navigate everything with the car wreck. It’s just... It’s hard.” Your breathing becomes uneven when you exhale.

“I can help.” She shifts closer. The tips of her fingers nearly brush against your socked foot.

“I can’t ask that of you. It’s my mess.”

“It can be my mess too.” Smiling, she dips her head to level her gaze. Her breath wafts towards you and it smells of peppermint. “I don’t mind.”

“But–”

“It’s not a problem at all for me. Nothing about you is.”

She doesn’t quite touch you, but you don’t know if what she’s doing is much different. With her sitting so close…you’re not sure if it truly matters. You can still feel the heat of her skin radiating off of her, as well as the warmth of her piercing stare. She watches you with eyes that could work out every kink in your body upon a single glance.

“You’re already giving me rides to and from work,” You begin. This is your last try—your final effort to keep her at arms length. “It’s too kind of you, Sev.”

Sevika’s always been the polite one out of you two—that’s not a secret. And it’s even been joked about a few times by Mel.

“Why don’t you want me to be here for you?” Her head tilts as she asks this.

You blink, almost perplexed, “Well there has to be an expiration date at some point, right?”

Her response is slow. “...I’m not following.”

“For you to always be so acquiescent,” You rub your palms against the top of your thighs. “Even when I have nothing to give you in return. It doesn't make sense. There has to be a point where you won't feel so obliged anymore. An expiration date—” Your rambling halts when her hand wraps around your ankle. Gently, she presses her thumb against the base of your shin, then she works into your skin. A delicate massage.

Slowly, she tugs. You allow your leg to be pulled towards her. Pretty soon, your other leg follows and she readjusts herself, so that the back of your thighs are almost resting on her lap. She's close. Really close.

Even though your heart is racing, out of mere instinct your hands stretch towards her.

“An expiration date will happen at some point and you won't want this. You won't want…me. And that's okay. Really. It’s—”

“Not possible.” When she smiles, you fall apart. It's the worst kind of heartbreak; the kind that’s painstakingly beautiful.

One of her hands continue to drape over your thighs, holding you in her lap as if you’re something to revere. Her other hand settles on top of your restless fingers, which happen to be kneading the hem of her shirt. She halts your fidgeting with a small squeeze.

“That’s not possible,” She echoes, this time a little quieter.

Her pupils are dilated with a fixed gaze, zeroing in on your nose. Then your lips. Oh.

As time passes, you try to swallow but you can't.

Out of complete desire, you reach up and allow your fingertips to brush against the warmth of her skin. She watches you cautiously, almost alarmed, because you’ve never done anything like this before. Your knuckles graze alongside the sharpness of her cheekbones. With bated breath, she waits. Waits and waits and waits while you feel every inch of her skin.

It's unknown territory that you've stepped into. Yet it feels entirely natural all the same.

Your lips part when she leans in, and another cloud of her scent wafts around you. It soothes you and that fullness inside of you peaks to the highest of heights. It bursts, creating an impactful explosion—so much so that you can no longer hold yourself back.

You swallow, finally, and lean forward too. It feels like too much time has passed when you close the distance. Her breathing stutters, eyes remaining on your lips before they flutter shut within the millisecond that she meets you.

Then, all at once, you feel your skin buzz. You hear the soaring of your heart when it shoots high up into the sky. You taste the sweetness of her lips and the warmth of her breath. It's good. Too good.

When she moans, the sound vibrates into you. It zooms past the thudding of your heart, through the walls of your veins and soles of your feet. Your body reacts and you angle closer to her immediately.

She pulls you into her lap with ease. Because that's how it always is with Sevika: easy. Kissing her is innate and you start to question how you’ve denied yourself such a privilege all this time.

Sevika with her soft skin and shining grey eyes and warm smiles. This is her in front of you, kissing you back and accepting all that you're giving her without question. Without hesitation.

This is real.

You press into her again as your arms lock around her shoulders. Another moan leaves her.

This is definitely real.

It's not until your pulling away for air when you allow your eyes to open.

The room is practically spinning. Oh god.

She nips at your neck while her hands find solace underneath your shirt. Her palms are flat against your lower back and fingers spread. And when something soft escapes your throat, her lips curve into a smile. She helps you sink lower into her lap—you're practically humping her now—with a grip that is both heady and encouraging.

“You can have me,” She says, her breath hot against your skin.

You blink slowly, scrambling to keep up with the sound of her voice.

You're slow to reply, so she pulls you two apart, just so that she can look directly at you. Her forefinger brushes against the tip of your chin, eyes locking with yours, and expression full of intent.

“Anything you want,” She mutters. It's hard to not become distracted by her lips; they're puffier than usual from the kissing. “Just say the words and I’ll give it to you.”

You're not sure why it happens at this exact moment, but your muscles lock up. Your vision starts to blur as you peer at her with swimming orbs, hands gripping her shoulders shakily.

Shit. You're definitely in too deep now...

"That's dangerous.”

She watches you for a few moments longer. Then, “How so?”

“Because I’ll want all of you.” A tear trickles down your cheek. Your cards are now laid out on the table.

“Then have all of me.”

Your hand curls around the back of her neck when she kisses your cheek—right where your tear is.

“Just take it. All of it,” She whispers. Another kiss, this time it lingers longer. “I'm yours to have anyways.”

That breaks you. Truly breaks you.

It’s hard to wrap your brain around how serious she is. But you start to believe her when her fingers push into you for the first time, eliciting a whimper from your lips. And as her fingers reach deeper and deeper, she swallows every sound you make with visceral pleasure. It satisfies her beyond anything famothable, to work into you and watch you unfold before her. Knowing that such a thing pleases her is what drives you mad.

It’s what has you crying please, please, please when she thrusts into you, watching you thank whatever God can hear you.

Then she begins to tell you that you can let go, and that you’re doing so good.

Because, you're really fucking special, and she wants you to know that. To feel that.

Because she needs you to know that. She needs this and she needs you. She will never stop needing you.

Because, God, you're so fucking perfect.

And when you’re cresting with tears rolling down your cheeks, blubbering about her having your heart and that she’s it for you—because you're certain there’ll never be anyone else—

She’s nodding, starry eyed and wanting, whispering, IknowIknowIknow as each thrust is fucked into you with delicious fervor.

Because, you're it for her too.

And she doesn't mind helping you realize that. Even if you demand that she drills it into you for the rest of the night.

#piscespetals writing #au writing #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane au #fanfic #arcane netflix #fluff #arcane women #smut is always a challenge for me to write but here's my rendition of it i suppose #there'll be more of in the chapter five #roommate!sevika #sevika writing #sevika pls marry me

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