#kol foster x mc

[skonkania]

— remember when

story: keeper of the sun and moon

pairing: kol foster x mc ( yasmine khalil )

word count: 1.2k

notes: i replayed the kotdan demo and im sad as fuck, so i made this

summary: do you remember when we felt like the only two alive?

Crumpled pages litter her bed, blue ink somehow staining her browned skin as it reminds her of past mistakes. Sunlight filtering in the dorm from a window where Astrid never shuts the curtains. Says the sun feels good against skin and that she will turn ghastly if she does not visit the outdoors more than just visits to lecture rooms.

La Vita Nuova sits on her chest, the torn novel rising and falling with every deep gust of air that invades her lungs. It is not an assignment which she is glad for but her brows furrow at the creased and crumpled pages of ballatas and canzones which are furiously scribbled with notes verging on nonsense and anguish. Dante’s love for Beatrice knows no bounds but how could a single word express how she felt for a boy who was worlds away.

Does a sonnet truly ever capture how ravishing someone is while the sunset dazzles against their skin?

Will extra offhandedly marginalized notes ever make clarity of any work they write that claims to express such profound thought?

A ballata and a canzone cannot make a man happy, right?

And her mind rushes into an unexpected place, Yasmine forgets what love really is. What tenderness is expressed with lingering stares and fingers awkwardly connect while knuckles fill the crevices between. She cannot deny that thoughts of him, vivacious and brimmed with laughter of unintended chaos, bring happiness.

She remembers feeling what love is for the first time. In the dorms, giggling and peeking through covers to see if Astrid hadn’t been woken up by their childlike behavior. Simpler times where Kol Foster smelled like cinnamon instead of chemicals and she could see his jaded eyes still so full of warmth.

He would’ve liked Dante then.

She would do anything to have him listen to her read again, wearing each other’s sweaters. Yasmine knows that the hand that binds fate is cruel and she is left with only senseless scribbles, La Vita Nuova in tune with her breathing.

Kol steals The Grapes of Wrath from her shelf once. Returns it at one point when she is studying sigils during her probation, she never was a stickler for rules even ones placed for her safety. He flushed at her presence and once handing the book, she internally commends him for such a quaint choice.

The last time she read Steinbeck was in high school. By far, not her favorite author, but something about his pick of this novel sets her at ease. Swiping something she barely noticed would be a terrible way to garner someone’s attention.

“Sorry about not asking you to borrow it.” his words splutter out and she isn’t exactly sure if he means the apology. Yet, Kol is as always genuine and there’s no reason to doubt him. “Just never—uhum—never saw you around.”

Until now.

“We live together, Kol.” her sentence is flourished off with a halfhearted chuckle which only seems to add humor to the whole petty situation. He’s always been a bit awkward around her, only seemingly content with himself when they’re alone.

She knows she’s charming, nothing narcissistic about being assured in your own qualities. Still, he seems to treat her like an enigma, something he’s still trying to figure out even with how open she is about everything.

He huffs through his nose and his right hand moves up to his chest. “Yeah, sorry about that, again. But I brought you an orange.”

Actually, it’s a tangerine but she does not bother to correct him on a small fluke.

It’s already peeled within his hand, the slices falling evenly in tranquil fashion. A close-lipped smile already gracing her features as she moves from the floor. Charcoal sigils left unattended and she grabs her book that been tapping against his thigh. Their fingers brush against one another, but she doesn’t flush or lightly shiver unlike him.

“I’m sorry, old sport, but I cannot allow such thievery.” she has stolen things as well, such as the nickname a man gives another for platonic affection under romantic subtext. Although, Kol never seems to read between the lines and she is grateful for that.

Lightly plucking a tangerine slice from his palm and relishing the sweet citrus bring pulped right among her molars. She likes tangy flavors dancing across her tongue but she’s never revealed that to him or anyone in their dorm if she thinks about it. He seems to be picking up on her habits and Yasmine doesn’t mind as much as long as it’s him.

He places half of the fruit into her hand, beaming in a way that leaves her breathless if only for a short moment. He always seemed to know how to do that. “Well, what do you want me to do to earn your forgiveness? Beg? Grovel?”

“Simpler than that,” her fingers lightly tremble as she tucks them under his chin, there is slight confusion on his face. Maybe this is a terrible mistake, ruin any chance she has of keeping such an easy-going facade. A stillness surrounding them as she finally looks Kol in the eyes, the same scared expression reflected.

But she still leans in, her lips barely grazing his and it still means holds all the feelings she’s pent up for so long. She doesn’t know if kissing Kol makes her anxious or the thought of inviting someone else into her own private world seems like such a big step for a boy she barely knows anything about. He is everything, nothing, something in between the lines of love and fear which is all she has ever known.

Maybe she’s scared of loving someone, completely and utterly having yourself at the mercy of someone who has your heart right in their pocket. Yasmine has only known petty arguments that lead to violence and passive-aggressive comments tossed throughout the day. The thought makes her sick, she refuses to live her life like that; he won’t break her heart like so many others before.

So she trusts him, shoulders a bit relaxed and mouth parted as she pulls away from him. Her brown eyes searching his face for any reaction, still a bit surprised and maybe a little regretful or that’s something she just added from the small amount of paranoia that remains.

His worried grimace transforms into a simper and her chest bursts with warmth as she returns her expression. “I think nearly making me go into cardiac arrest counts as something past simple.”

She laughs, resting her forehead against his before savoring another quick kiss. “Don’t push my generosity.”

“Promise,” he sighs and it didn’t mean anything at the moment. “just don’t make this harder on me.”

Yes, she remembers the moment she first fell in love. It was consuming every part of her soul, thoughts only being clouded with images of him in pure glee and growing unsure of her teasing. Love makes her insecure, love makes her unsure of what to do with her hands as she walks next to him, love makes her hold onto something that just seems so hopeless.

She won’t give up, she promised herself that before coming back to Magi. Yasmine wants to feel what love is like again.

[skonkania]

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