niké

she/her | filipino🇵🇭 | '02

[iv-leafclover]

"I never thought i'd fall in love at first sight

Your laugh, your voice, your perfect irresistible smile

The way you look at me,

Some sort of chemistry,

One look and i'm yours forever my baby"

[shautiecultist]

shockingly nice

sophia laforteza x yoonchae's cousin!fem!reader

summary: sophia has a little crush on you because of all the photos and stories yoonchae tells her. one day, she finally meets you

3.6k

a/n: should i make a part 2?

The afternoon sun shone through the big living room windows, turning the Katseye house into a warm shade of gold. Lara had music playing low from her speaker, something chill that she would sing some of the lyrics of. The sound of quiet laughter from the corner of the couch where someone, most likely Megan, was probably scrolling through tiktok memes.

Sophia was sprawled across the carpet on her stomach while scrolling through her phone when she heard Yoonchae’s voice from the couch.

“Hey, girls. Look. My cousin just sent me this photo from her trip.”

Immediately, a chorus rose.

“Oh no!” Manon groaned as she made her way from the kitchen to the living room. Her voice full of mocking despair. “Here we go again.”

Sophia froze mid-scroll. Don’t look too interested, she thought to herself. Play it cool this time.

She stood up way too quickly for someone trying to play it cool anyway.

Yoonchae was grinning, holding her phone up so everyone could see. “She went hiking this weekend. Isn’t this view amazing?”

“Sure it is.” Daniela said, sliding in closer to Sophia. “Hold on. Do you mean the view or your cousin?” She nudged Sophia’s shoulder.

Yoonchae laughed. “Oh, come on. She’s my cousin. Stop being weird.”

Sophia awkwardly coughed in her sleeve, trying to hide her smile. “I mean, she does take good pictures.”

“That’s what you said last time.” Megan pointed out, grinning as she remembered all the times this has happened. “And the time before that, and the one before that.” She rambled.

Everyone laughed at Sophia as she started turning red.

“Oh my god.” She groaned, trying to hide her face. “You guys act like I’m obsessed or something.”

Yoonchae was already scrolling through the rest of the photos you had sent her. “You kinda are.” She said, completely unfazed at the rest of the girls antics. “Every time I mention her, you perk up like… you know.” She raised her hands to mimic a puppy raising its ears, which made everyone burst out laughing.

Sophia rolled onto her back, groaning dramatically. “That is so not true.”

“Yes, it is!” Lara giggled. “You’re always like ‘Oh Yoonchae, your cousin is so cool and mysterious. She’s also very pretty. When is she visiting? Is she dating anyone?’ Every single time.” She said while trying to mimic Sophia’s voice.

“I do not say it like that. I’m just trying to know her better. Yoonchae is clearly very close to her. I’m trying to be a good leader and friend.”

“You do.” Manon said, sinking back into the couch. “It’s actually impressive how consistent you are.”

Yoonchae kept scrolling through the photos, already used to the teasing chaos she had unleashed with a single picture. “Okay, but look at this one.” She turned her phone towards Sophia before showing the other girls. “She cut her hair shorter. I think it really suits her.”

Sophia didn’t even try to pretend not to care. She scooted closer and made Yoonchae turn her phone towards her once again. She studied the screen like it was a masterpiece. “Wow.” She said quietly, then caught what she said out loud and added. “Yeah, hm, that’s nice. Nice haircut.”

Manon snorted as she shook her head. “You’re hopeless.”

Sophia shot her a glare. “I’m not hopeless. I just appreciate a good haircut. That’s all.”

Everyone laughed again, and Sophia could only join them because denying, as much as she tried, seemed pointless by now. Sophia’s crush had become one of those Katseye’s little inside jokes.

Still, Sophia tried to defend herself. “Okay, but bear with me. Yoonchae has been hyping her up since Dream Academy. I feel like I know her already.”

“You have never even met her!” Daniela exclaimed between laughs.

“Which makes this even worse.” Lara added. “It’s like a parasocial relationship but with Yoonchae’s cousin.”

“Wow.” Sophia muttered. “I feel the support girls.”

Yoonchae laughed. “It’s okay. My cousin is really cool. I think you two would actually get along, even if she’s shy at the beginning and has that mysterious vibe.”

“Yeah?” Sophia tried not to sound too eager.

Yoonchae nodded. “She tries to be mysterious, but she’s a sweetheart. She’s nice, super grounded, and has a good sense of humor. The type of person you could talk to for hours and not get tired because she actually listens to you.”

Sophia hummed, pretending this wasn’t getting to her while her stomach did a ridiculous flip. The type you could talk to for hours. Great. Fantastic. Exactly what she needed to hear. Even more fuel to this dumb crush.

Daniela noticed the small smile Sophia was trying her best to hide. “See that face? That’s her I’m already planning our first date face.”

Yoonchae laughed as she finally put her phone down. “It’s just a crush. It’s okay.”

Sophia stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard her.” Megan laughed.

“Wow.” Sophia dramatically placed her hand over her heart. “Exposed in my own living room by my own group.”

Everyone cackled again. Sophia sighed, giving up. “Fine. I think she’s cute. So what?”

They shut up for half a second before the room exploded with laughter and cheers.

“She finally admitted!”

Sophia groaned. “I hate all of you.” She said as she covered her face with her hands.

“No, you don’t.” Yoonchae said. “And don’t worry. I’m trying to convince her to come visit me. I think I’m getting closer to it.”

Sophia peeked between her fingers, eyes narrowing as she looked at the younger girl. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

—

The next morning, Sophia found herself in the kitchen making tea. She’d spent most of last night thinking about the photos Yoonchae had shown the group and all the little things she’d convinced herself were meaningful. The way you tilted your head in photos, the way you always took pictures whenever you went somewhere only so you could show your cousin, the way she could barely see your eyes whenever you grinned in photos, the way it seemed you had an easy laugh, but only in the photos you sent Yoonchae but not on the ones you posted on instagram.

It was ridiculous and intoxicating the way you had her wrapped around your finger and probably barely knew she existed. Definitely not something she intended to admit to anyone. Except everyone already knew.

Yoonchae breezed in from her room with the calm yet knowing smile. She plopped down on a stool next to Sophia and held up her phone with the casual nonchalance that was common on the girl.

“Hey. So… small thing. I called my cousin just a few minutes ago, and I actually finally convinced her to come visit me.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing. It was the kind of sentence that seemed harmless but carried a lot of weight.

“She’s coming for a work thing, but I asked if she could stay at least a few hours longer and come by the house. She said she’d love to meet you all.”

The spoon Sophia was using clattered against the mug. For a moment, she forgot how to be subtle. Her heart did a ridiculous hop that made the words stumble out of her mouth.

“Oh?” She said, smiling like someone told her she had just won the lottery. “That’s… that’s amazing.”

Manon arched an eyebrow at her. “You look like you just swallowed a ray of sunshine.”

“Shut up.” Sophia said, but her smile didn’t falter even a second.

Megan snorted. “She’s going to come by the house, aka Sophia will evaporate slowly the whole time she’s here.”

Yoonchae, unintentional queen of all this chaos, continued as if none of this was happening. “She’s flying in this friday. She’s going to be busy during the day, but she’ll come for dinner. Maybe a little earlier.”

Lara whistled softly. “Friday? That gives us less than a week for operation: how to make y/n fall in love with me in less than a day, made by Sophia Laforteza.”

“I’m not planning anything.” Sophia insisted. Except she was. In her head, she was already planning outfits, how to try to laugh quieter, the little things she could say that would sound natural but leave an impression on you.

“Okay, but real talk.” Manon said. “If your cousin is coming, we should probably clean. Like, actually make this look clean and not just presentable.”

“We’ll do just fine. Also, just a friendly reminder.” Megan bumped Sophia’s shoulder. “Do not, under any circumstances, cry from joy if she says she likes us.”

“Why would I cry?” Sophia rolled her eyes, but with a grin on her face, which made everyone even more certain she was smitten.

Inside, she was already picturing even the smallest moments. She could already imagine her feet resting over your legs with some low jazz playing in the background and some light conversation. Like something stolen straight out of a rom-com.

On friday, when Yoonchae told the rest of the girls the arrival time, the group assembled in the living room like a welcoming committee that only exists in sitcoms.

Afterwards, Sophia stood by the window feeling ridiculous and giddy like a teenager before their first date. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tried to steady herself.

Daniela came up behind her. “You okay?” She asked, soft and knowing.

“Yeah.” Sophia said, tired of trying to pretend she hadn’t been thinking about this moment for months. “I’m excited.”

Daniela smiled as Sophia finally admitted the truth. “It’s going to be good. If you get nervous, just remember to be yourself. And if you start to gush too much, someone will come to the rescue.”

Sophia laughed. “Sounds like a contingency plan.”

“Oh, it absolutely is.” Daniela said with a light mock in her voice. “We won’t let you embarrass yourself in front of your crush.”

And really, she thought to herself as she breathed out and finally joined the others in the living room, what was the worst that could happen? She’d get embarrassed. She’d be teased. She might say something awkward. All of it felt survivable and worth it.

—

As the hour approached, the house hummed with anticipatory energy. The whole house seemed unusually tidy. Lara had even reorganized the couch cushions by vibe order. Nobody completely understood what that meant, but they appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Sophia checked her reflection for the 100th time in the last hour, smoothed her top and reapplied her gloss once again. She changed her outfit twice before finally deciding on something simple, yet effective.

“Relax.” Megan exclaimed from the floor where she was scrolling through tiktok. “You look fine. Like, fine-fine.”

“I am relaxed.” Sophia said, but convinced no one.

Manon chuckled. “You’ve checked the mirror more times than I can count on both my hands.”

Before Sophia could defend herself, the sound of the doorbell sounded through the house.

They all froze as they stared at each other. “That’s her.” Yoonchae quickly said.

Complete silence.

Then, chaos erupted.

Daniela leapt up to smooth out her shirt. Lara straightened the pillows once more. Manon shoved the fruit bowl in the center of the table as if that would somehow make the house more welcoming.

“Everyone just act normal.” Megan muttered right before tripping over the edge of the carpet.

And Sophia? She just stood in the middle of the living room, heart racing so fast she thought she was going to pass out. This is fine, she told herself. It’s just Yoonchae’s cousin. Just a person. A very hot person. Totally fine. Just say hi like a normal person.

Yoonchae rushed to the door. She swung it open with a wide grin.

“Hi! You made it.”

You stepped inside with the relaxed posture of someone who didn’t realize she was about to become the evening’s unintentional main entertainment.

“Hi!” You said, pulling your cousin into a tight hug. “Sorry if I’m late. Traffic is crazy here.”

“Don’t worry.” Yoonchae said, pulling away from the hug. “The girls are in the living room. You remember them from the photos I showed you on christmas, right?”

“I do, yeah.” You said, looking around the room as the rest of Katseye waved and welcomed you.

Sophia, however, could barely get a word out.

Oh no, she’s even prettier in real life.

“Hi.” Sophia managed to say, stepping forward with what she hoped looked like a friendly smile and not pennywise. “I’m Sophia. It’s really nice to meet you.”

You smiled back. “You’re the roommate, right? I’ve heard so much about you.”

That sentence made Sophia’s brain short-circuit. She’s heard about me?

Behind her, Manon coughed into her sleeve to cover up a laugh.

“All good, I hope.” Sophia said, trying to recover.

“All good.” You said. “Yoonchae said you always make sure she’s okay and feels comfortable. Thank you for that.”

Sophia blinked, caught off guard by your words. “Oh… hm. I just like to make sure everyone feels included, I guess.”

Daniela swooped in with perfect timing. “You must be tired from the flight and whatever it was you were doing all day. Come sit, I’ll get you something to drink.”

“I’ll get it.” Sophia practically shouted.

Everyone froze for half a second at the sudden outburst.

“I mean, I can grab it.” She added, scrambling towards the kitchen before anyone could stop her. “Water? Juice? Tea? Coffee? We have this new oat milk that’s like surprisingly good.”

Lara coughed into her hand, trying to hide a laugh. Manon mouthed to Daniela “She’s already gone.”

“Anything is fine, really.” You said. “I’m not picky.”

“Tea? Juice? Coffee?” Sophia asked, already halfway to the fridge.

Manon raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this whole situation. “She said anything is fine. Calm down.”

Sophia glanced back, cheeks turning pink. “Right, right. Just making sure.”

“Hm.” You said. “Just water is fine, then?”

Sophia nodded so fast she looked like a bobblehead figure. “Water! Of course. Classic, simple, very hydrating. Great choice.”

Shortly after, Sophia returned with a glass of water straight out of a fancy restaurant. She had even added a lemon slice.

“There you go.” She gave it to you with the dedication of a Michelin restaurant waiter. “We take hydration very seriously around here.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” You said with an amused smile. “Thanks, Sophia.”

Sophia smiled back, a little too brightly. “Anytime.”

As everyone settled in the living room, the conversation started to flow easily. Stories from all your travels, embarrassing stories about Yoonchae from when she was younger, stories from them about what they get up to during rehearsal and the events they go to. Just little moments filled with laughter.

Sophia tries to stay engaged, but it was like she had a gravitational pull towards you that stole all of her attention.

When everyone sat down for dinner, the mood started getting more relaxed and playful.

You started telling a story about how earlier you accidentally ordered a mountain of pancakes at the hotel you were staying in because you didn’t realize just how big american portions were. The girls laughed so loud, Megan almost spit out her drink when you showed them the pictures.

Sophia hovered the entire time. Offering more food, refill your glass, pass something. Every five minutes, she found a new way to ‘help’.

“You sure you don’t want more food?” She asked for the third time.

“I’m good, I promise.” You said with a laugh. “I’m way too full.”

“Right, right. Just checking.”

Daniela gave her a look. “She’s not at a five-star restaurant.”

Sophia laughed to wave off the embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Just trying to be a good host.”

Lara whispered to Megan. “She’s about to start offering her dessert menus and mint chocolates.”

“I would actually accept that.” Megan said under her breath.

—

After dinner, everyone went back to the living room. Sophia sat down on the far end of the couch. Everything was fine until you plopped down right beside her. Sophia was laughing along too, but she was also quietly cataloging every detail she could gather about you.

She instantly froze.

Everyone caught it immediately, their lips twisting into the kind of smile that said we’re gonna bring this up later.

Megan shot Sophia a wide-eyed quick look. Lara hides her smile behind her phone. Daniela muttered under her breath to Manon “it’s happening,” like they were watching a live episode of a romantic show.

Sophia tried to act casual, crossing her legs and smiling when you tried to start up a conversation with her about rehearsals.

“It’s very tiring.” She said. “But it’s what we all ever dreamed of, which makes everything worth it.”

“That’s so cool.” You nodded. “I can tell how much you all love what you do. I mean, if you didn’t, you wouldn’t go through so much training. And all the things Yoonchae told me even before dream academy… I don’t think I could do it. It’s inspiring.”

That hit Sophia right in the chest.

“Thanks.” She said softly. “That means a lot. More than you know.”

The conversation carried on like that. Easy. Sophia laughed a little too loudly any time you said something remotely funny, offered to refill drinks or get food, subtly leaned in whenever you spoke. Everything she was doing was all so obvious yet so endearing that even the subtle teasing from the girls softened smiles and little nudges.

“She’s gonna sprain something if she keeps trying so hard.” Daniela murmured.

Lara chuckled quietly. “She’s in her main character moment right now. Let her live.”

As the time went on, everyone was comfortably full and getting sleepy.

You stood up to leave, gathering your things. “Thank you so much for having me. You’re all wonderful. I had the best time.”

Sophia stood up quickly. “You should come by again soon.”

“I’d love that.” You turned to hug your cousin goodbye. “You’re lucky to live with them. They are all very nice and funny. Especially Sophia, she’s very sweet. Made me feel very welcome.”

Yoonchae bit her lip to hide her grin as she looked at Sophia over your shoulder. “She is.”

Sophia felt like she might combust.

After all the goodbyes, the door closed with a soft click. Silence lingered for a single moment before all five voices erupted at the same time.

“You were being so obvious.”

“She said you were sweet!”

“You were almost sitting on her lap at one point.”

“You were grinning at her the whole time! You were glowing.”

“Oh my god, you’re blushing again!”

Sophia groaned. “I was just trying to be a good host. I was just being nice.”

“Sure you were.” Megan teased.

Yoonchae was laughing so hard she had to take a deep breath so she could speak. “She thought you were just being polite, by the way. She told me when I showed her the bathroom.”

“Oh perfect.” Sophia mumbled. “Exactly what I was going for. Being polite.”

She dropped her head onto a pillow. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Daniela patted her back. “You did your best. She’ll remember you.”

“Yeah.” Megan started with a laugh. “As the world’s most attentive server.”

—

The house was quiet. Sophia was half asleep in her bed, trying not to replay every single moment she had with you, when Yoonchae came in, phone in her hand.

I was so weird. She thinks to herself. She probably thinks I worked in customer service in a past life.

“Hey.” She said softly.

Sophia peeked over her covers. “Hmm?”

Yoonchae smiled, holding up her phone. “My cousin texted me”.

“Oh!” Sophia sat up straight a little too quick.

“She said.” Yoonchae cleared her throat dramatically and read your text. “Your friends were very cool. Especially Sophia. She’s shockingly nice. She made me feel very welcome. She wouldn’t stop looking at me though, probably to make sure my glass was full or if I needed anything.”

Sophia groaned, laying back down and pulling the blanket over her head. “Oh my god.”

Yoonchae laughed. “What? That wasn’t bad.”

“That’s not flattering.” Sophia’s mumbles came muffled from under the blanket. “That sounds like I was being so nice it turned creepy.”

“She probably meant it as a compliment.” Yoonchae tried to calm the girl down.

“No. She meant as ‘why is this girl hovering over me with lemon water and food every five minutes?”

“You were being nice.” She said. “Just… very aggressively.”

Sophia sighed. “She didn’t realize I was trying to flirt.”

Yoonchae smiled. “Don’t worry. She’ll be around again. Next time, though, you should dial it down like 20%. You know, be less welcome committee and a little more you.”

Sophia thought about that. “Yeah, maybe next time.” She smiled softly, pulling the blanket tighter. “I can’t believe she actually thought I was just being nice.”

Yoonchae laughed softly, sitting down beside Sophia. “It was kind of cute. You looked like you were in a rom-com the whole time. We were all rooting for you.”

“Some rooting.” Sophia muttered. “You were all laughing at me and making little comments. Don’t think I didn’t hear them. I’m surprised she didn’t hear them too.”

They lay there in silence for a moment before Yoonchae broke the silence. “Her job is trying to make her move to LA. That’s why she came here. She might be around more because of paper stuff they need to work on before she actually moves here.”

Sophia turned her head towards the younger girl. “Yeah?”

Yoonchae nodded. “I might ask her to join us next time she’s here.”

Sophia groaned, hiding a grin. “If she thinks I’m shockingly nice now, just wait until she sees me next time.”

Yoonchae chuckled. “That’s the spirit.”

[iv-leafclover]

THE CAPTION?!?!! YES LAWD

yes mommy, thank you mommy WHO SAID THAT

she definitely knows what she's doing to us

[sinigang4sophia]

SOPHIA LAFORTEZA YOU GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL!!!!😭🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

[tehesamueltehe]

i can’t stop thinking about her

[misanaytion]

she’s like that toxic ex gf that you keep coming back to wtfff

[echoverge-deactivated20251013]

— HEALING TOGETHER

Sophia Laforteza

gentle hands, steady presence

— synopsis. you stay by sophia’s side through exhaustion, doubt, and quiet storms, learning that love isn’t always grand—it’s sometimes just being there, patiently, through the hardest moments.

pairings. stressed!sophia x gn!reader

warnings. anxiety / panic / emotional distress , mental health struggles, feeling of inadequacy, emotional vulnerability, heavy emotional content

word count. 2.6k

a/n. hi first time posting a fic here quite nervous … tips would be appreciated !

++ i was half asleep while writing this but i really wanted to post my 1st ever fic here..

⚠︎ all fiction ⚠︎

You had learned, slowly, that being Sophia Laforteza’s significant other was like standing beside a storm you loved watching from a safe distance.

Her mornings were early and loud with schedules, her nights swallowed by events and rehearsals that left her voice hoarse and her smiles thin. You knew her life wasn’t an ordinary one—no coffee runs at dawn together, no lazy Sundays without notifications lighting up her phone. And yet, you stayed, because love wasn’t in the grand gestures, but in the quiet moments where she let herself be human.

Today, however, even the quiet moments felt impossibly far away.

You sat on the edge of her bed, a mug of coffee warming your hands, watching her scroll through her phone with tired eyes. She hadn’t looked up at you yet, and you didn’t know whether it was exhaustion, stress, or the weight of something heavier you couldn’t see. The room smelled faintly of her perfume and lingering shampoo—familiar, comforting—and yet your chest felt tight.

“I—uh…” you started, unsure. Words always felt brittle in these moments. “Do you want to talk?”

She blinked at you, eyes glossy but guarded. “I’m fine,” she murmured, voice barely above the hum of the city outside.

You swallowed. You knew that voice. The one that said everything is fine but meant I’m breaking inside, please don’t notice.

The truth of your relationship—the slow, steady, tender love that had grown between you over the years—was that Sophia had always been a fortress. She let no one see the cracks. Except, maybe, you.

And even now, you weren’t sure if you were allowed inside.

A quiet memory drifted through your mind: the first night she’d held your hand while crying softly into your shoulder, confessing the loneliness of a life lived in the spotlight. You had stayed then, breathing with her, letting your presence be the only thing she needed. You wanted that night again, desperately—but this time, she was silent.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” you asked, voice small. You had been dating long enough to know the space she sometimes needed, but it felt like you were standing at the edge of an emotional cliff.

“No,” she whispered after a pause, almost too quiet to hear. “Just… not yet.”

So you stayed. You let the minutes stretch into an aching silence, letting the warmth of the coffee cup seep into your fingers while your heart ached in quiet harmony with hers. You remembered when she had first admitted to being scared—scared of failing, of disappointing people, of dragging others down with her exhaustion. And somehow, over time, you had become both her anchor and her witness.

But anchors are heavy, and sometimes they hurt as much as they hold.

The room felt suffocating in its stillness. You wanted to reach for her, to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, to whisper that she wasn’t alone—but even that small motion felt risky, as if she might recoil under the weight of her own invisible storm.

You clenched your mug tighter, trying to hold onto warmth that wasn’t just in your hands. And you realized, painfully, that love wasn’t always gentle. Sometimes, it was waiting. Waiting for her to breathe, waiting for her to let you in, waiting for the storm to quiet—if it ever would.

And you would wait.

Because even in the ache of distance, even in the bruising quiet between your heartbeats, you loved her.

Sophia shifted on the bed, tucking her knees under her chin, staring at the floor. Her hair fell in a curtain over her face, hiding the exhaustion in her eyes. You wanted to brush it back, to see her fully, to tell her she didn’t have to carry everything alone—but she flinched slightly when your hand hovered near her shoulder.

So you stayed still.

“I… you’ve been working so hard,” you murmured, voice almost too small to break the silence. “And I know it’s tiring. I just…” Your words faltered. You didn’t want to pressure her. You didn’t want her to feel like she owed you explanations. “I just want to be here, if you want me to be.”

She let out a breath, shaky and quiet. Not enough to say she was crying, but enough to make your heart tighten. “It’s not you,” she whispered. “It’s me… I don’t… I don’t want to drag you into this.”

Your chest ached, because you understood. You had been her anchor long enough to know the weight she carried—the idol life, the expectations, the constant pressure to be perfect. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear her say she wanted to push you away, even just for a moment.

“You’re not dragging me anywhere,” you said softly. “I chose to be here. I want to be here. Even if it’s hard, even if it’s messy.”

Her head tilted slightly, and for a moment you saw it—just a flicker behind her guarded eyes—a longing to let go, to lean on you the way she had before. But the walls she had built were strong. Her pride, her fear, her exhaustion—it all whispered that she should face this alone.

“I just… i feel like I’m failing,” she admitted, voice breaking almost imperceptibly. “Like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. And I can’t… I can’t let anyone see that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You wanted to tell her that she was enough, that she was loved exactly as she was. But instead, you reached out, very slowly, and placed a hand on hers. No words, no pressure. Just a presence, a reminder that she wasn’t alone.

For a long time, she didn’t move. Then, very slightly, her fingers curled around yours. Not enough to speak volumes, but enough to make your chest both heavy and full at the same time.

The ache of wanting to do more, to fix things, to make her smile again, remained. But for now, you would wait. You would stay.

You remembered the nights before you were dating, when she had called you crying, whispering into the phone about how exhausting it all was. Back then, you’d only been a friend, listening through the crackle of a speaker, wishing you could do more than offer words. Now, being beside her, being here in her room, you felt the weight of all those unspoken words. You wanted to scoop her up, shield her from the world—but you knew that would only scare her more.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered, voice trembling slightly despite your effort to be calm. “You don’t have to explain. You don’t have to fix anything right now.”

Her hand twitched in yours. Small, almost imperceptible, but enough to make your heart seize. Slowly, she lifted her head just enough to peek at you through her hair, her eyes red-rimmed, haunted.

“I… I don’t want to be weak,” she admitted, almost in a whisper, almost to herself. “I hate that I feel like this… like I’m not… enough. For anyone. For you.”

Your chest constricted. The words hung heavy in the air, and you wanted to tell her she had never needed to be enough—because to you, she already was. You wanted to tell her that being human, being vulnerable, being tired and scared, didn’t make her any less the person you loved.

But instead, you tightened your hold just slightly, letting her lean against your side. No words, just warmth, just presence. You let her cry silently, her shoulders shaking against your arm, letting her release whatever she had been holding back.

Hours passed in that quiet rhythm—your hand in hers, her forehead resting against your chest, neither of you speaking, neither of you moving. The city outside pulsed with life you couldn’t join, but here, in this small bubble of quiet, you felt both the ache of her pain and the fragile hope that she was letting you in, even if only a little.

You remembered the first time she had truly let herself be vulnerable with you—not too long ago, when she had fallen asleep in your arms after a grueling rehearsal, confessing her fears of failure while you stroked her hair. She had trusted you then. And now, even though the anxiety had returned, the cracks were there again—she was letting you stand beside her as it fell apart.

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t fixing anything. But it was a start.

And as you sat there, holding her hand, feeling the uneven rhythm of her breath, you silently promised yourself—you would wait. You would stay. You would be her anchor again, the quiet presence she could rely on, no matter how long it took for her storms to pass.

Because love, you realized, wasn’t always bright and easy. Sometimes it was heavy. Sometimes it hurt. And sometimes it was as simple, and as excruciating, as holding someone’s hand through the silence.

Hours passed in near silence, broken only by the quiet hum of the city outside and the uneven rhythm of Sophia’s breathing. You had stayed seated on the edge of her bed, careful not to crowd her, careful not to force anything—but every small tremor in her fingers, every hitch in her breath, made your chest tighten.

Then, without warning, she jerked slightly, as if the weight she’d been carrying had finally become too much.

“I… I can’t…” she whispered, voice cracking. Her head fell into her hands, hiding her face. “I feel like I’m drowning… and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Your heart lurched. You had seen her tired, her stressed, her anxious—but hearing those words, that raw confession, sent a sharp ache through you. You leaned closer, careful, gentle, whispering, “Hey… hey, look at me. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Her hands trembled against her face. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want… I can’t… I feel like I’m too much.”

“No,” you said firmly, voice trembling in its own quiet desperation. “You’re not too much. You’re… everything. And I’m here. I chose this. I chose you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

She shook her head, silent tears slipping free. “But… everything’s too heavy. I can’t—”

You reached out slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. She flinched, but didn’t pull away. Her eyes, glistening and terrified, met yours for a fleeting moment, and you whispered, “Breathe with me. One. Two. Three. Slowly.”

She listened, shaking, uneven, but following your rhythm. You counted softly, feeling each breath as though you were tethered to her, holding her steady in the storm she had tried to face alone for too long.

“I hate that I’m like this,” she admitted, voice trembling. “I hate that I can’t—can’t handle it. And I hate that I’m… not enough for you.”

Your throat tightened. You leaned closer, letting your forehead rest gently against hers. “You are more than enough,” you said, almost a prayer. “You’ve always been enough. You don’t have to fight alone anymore. Not ever. Let me be here. Please… let me be here.”

Her hands clutched your shirt, nails digging slightly, as if trying to anchor herself to something solid. You held her hands in yours, soft but unyielding, willing her to feel the truth of your words.

Minutes stretched like hours. Every breath she took was jagged, uneven, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, the tremors softened. You whispered encouragements, small reassurances, letting your presence do what words sometimes couldn’t.

And still, even as she calmed, even as her shaking slowed, your chest ached—not just from worry, but from the weight of knowing how much she had carried alone before letting you in. The silence that followed was heavy, but it wasn’t empty. It was raw. It was real. And it was the first fragile thread of trust in the night that promised she might let you stay.

You sat with her until the tremors faded completely, until the quiet was no longer suffocating but simply still. And though the storm had not passed, though the exhaustion and anxiety lingered, you knew one truth that anchored you in the dark: you would wait. You would stay. You would hold her through every tempest—because this love wasn’t about perfect moments. It was about being present in the broken ones.

The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting the room in soft, golden stripes. Sophia lay curled against your side, her forehead resting just below your chin. Her breathing was calm, the tremors of last night replaced with a fragile stillness. You had stayed awake half the night, holding her, letting her lean into you until her storm had quieted enough to sleep.

You traced idle patterns on the back of her hand, careful not to wake her, savoring the rare peace. Being with her like this—silent, slow, unhurried—was a balm. Every rise and fall of her chest reminded you that she was real, present, and letting herself be vulnerable with you.

Hours passed quietly. Eventually, she stirred, blinking sleepily, eyes soft but wary.

“Morning,” you murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She managed a small smile, tentative, like testing the ground after a storm. “Morning,” she whispered back. Her voice was hoarse but gentle, tinged with vulnerability.

You guided her to sit up slowly, propping pillows behind her. “Do you want tea? Breakfast?” you asked softly, giving her space to answer.

She shook her head faintly, letting her hand linger in yours instead. “I just… want to stay here for a while,” she said.

And so you did.

The day moved slowly around you. You made tea and quietly set it by her side, returning to sit with her. You didn’t rush her to talk, didn’t demand she explain anything—just presence, soft and steady. Sometimes she rested her head on your shoulder. Sometimes she curled her legs against yours, letting you thread your fingers through hers. Words weren’t always needed; even breathing together was enough.

Later, she sighed, leaning back against your chest. “I… I feel better,” she admitted, voice small. “Not perfect… but better.”

You brushed a soft kiss to her temple. “That’s enough. That’s all I ever need. You don’t have to be perfect, Sophia. You’re enough—just like this.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around yours. “I don’t know how to say thank you… for staying, for not leaving.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered. “I’m here because I want to be. Always.”

The afternoon passed in gentle comfort—watching old movies, sharing snacks, exchanging small smiles and quiet touches. Every laugh she let slip, every time she leaned against you, felt like a small victory. Slowly, carefully, she was letting herself heal—not all at once, but in tiny, soft increments.

By evening, she rested her head in your lap, eyes closing as you absentmindedly stroked her hair. “I feel… safe,” she murmured, the words barely audible.

And in that moment, your heart swelled. Safe. That was what love could be—steady, unhurried, and unwavering, even after the storm.

You held her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “Always,” you whispered. “You’ll always be safe with me.”

And for the first time in a long while, Sophia let herself believe it.

[eyekoninurarea]

Your Idol: The Muse (Daniela's Ending)

-> daniela avanzini x idol!masc!reader

masterlist | prev | the anchor | the greed

word count: 11.6 k

summary: in which a struggling girl group was suddenly brought into light when their debut came out of nowhere. everyone thought SIREN5 was just hype; a chaotic rookie group with a pretty concept and no substance. even KATSEYE wasn’t expecting much when they were assigned to mentor them before debut. but the moment the music hit, everything changed.

chapter summary: in which dani comes to her senses, pulling you into her world just as you were about to slip away. after struggling to come into terms with herself, she realizes that you're worth every risk she's about to take.

authors note: this was long overdue omfg, i'm so sorry and thank you to all my pookies who proofread this ily so much<33 as usual, thank you for reading my fic, you all own my heart <33

The characterization in this fic does not, in any way, reflect that of the real people portrayed in this fic.

tag(s): FLUFF, MAJOR FLUFF, a lil bit confusing tbh, a little angst sprinkled in, internalized homophobia?, dani struggles with her sexuality, mdni (pls i beg), idol!reader being a loser trapped in a hot body, masc reader, reader having she/her pronouns, rough transitions, shitty characterization, messy, sex jokes, the author doesn't know how the music industry works, you and dani being the cutest couple ever actually.

That night was, without question, the best night of your life. It was so perfect it almost felt like a dream.

But reality, cruel as ever, pulled you back. Soon, you were in LA again, caught up in the whirlwind of schedules and stardom.

The months that followed passed in a blur, yet somehow, you and Dani carved out a world of your own within the chaos. Every other Sunday became sacred: the two of you trading books, meeting in the quiet buzz of morning for walks and coffee, conversations spilling from the book’s storylines to childhood trauma.

She filled your phone with pieces of herself. Selfies that made your chest ache with how beautiful she looked, little snapshots that only you were meant to see, voice recordings of her reenactment of musicals that she was currently into. 

In return, you sent her the most random things: crooked street signs, your messy desk, half-made lego sets, your newly assessed pokemon cards, sunsets and sunrises captioned “almost as pretty as you. almost", When you overindulged in nerd merch, you texted, “I might’ve… overdone it…”, knowing full well she’d tease you for it. 

Every week, you found excuses to give her something small: plushies, trinkets, flowers, just because you could. Just because showering her with material things felt like the only way to say what you both couldn’t.

But what you treasured most were the things she shared only with you. Videos of late-night dance practices where she choreographed just for herself. Silly clips of her in her styling chair, pulling faces while her members laughed in the background. The nightly video calls she insisted on during her drives home, which always stretched into the early hours until she fell asleep with the phone still on. Sometimes she’d wake to see you still on her screen, fast asleep, and her soft “wake up” would pull a groggy “five more minutes” from you.

Whatever this was…this fragile, tender, maddening thing, you couldn’t quite name it. All you knew was that it was something more than friendship, and something just shy of love, and you wouldn't exchange it for anything else. 

Still, that didn’t stop you from sulking. While Katseye prepared for their Lollapalooza performance, you were sprawled on the couch, spoon in hand, trying to drown your envy in ice cream. No matter how many bites you took, the frustration stuck. You couldn’t buy your way into performing; you had to settle for the priciest tickets with the lounge like any other normie.

“You have got to stop pouting. It’s been weeks, and we’re about to go on a world promo tour,” Cami groaned, throwing you a look as she stretched across the armchair.

“But we could’ve performed,” you mumbled around a mouthful of vanilla, pointing your spoon like it was a weapon.

“We barely debuted. Chill" Amara snorted and flopped down beside you, nearly knocking the pint from your hands. 

“We’re still more interesting than half the lineup” you countered, scrolling on your phone until the Coachella poster filled your screen. Your thumb hovered over Katseye’s name, already circled with a little heart; Cami’s handiwork, of course.

Rina, who had been quietly curled up with her sketchpad, looked up with a soft frown. 

“Don’t be mean. They worked hard for that stage. They deserve to be there" She softly reprimands, her voice ringing like bells

“I never said they weren’t talented. I’m just saying we’re more interesting. Big difference" You smirked, holding up your phone

Before the argument could escalate, Hana’s voice cut sharp from the kitchen. 

“If I hear one more whine about Lollapalooza, I’m scheduling a fanmeet and triple rehearsals for that week"

The room fell into immediate silence.

“...Bloody hell” Amara muttered under her breath.

You pressed your lips together, fighting a laugh, but any further comeback was shut down when Hana added:  

“And put the ice cream back in the freezer before you spoil your appetite. Dinner’s almost ready"

“Yes, mom.” the four of you chorused in unison, scrambling to clean and set up the table

From the kitchen, you could hear her chuckle, just barely, but you knew she was smiling.

The night stretched longer than either of you had planned. 

What had started as a simple coffee had somehow spilled into a quiet walk, music drifting softly from your speaker, until now Daniela was curled up on your bed, legs tucked under her, eyeliner smudged just slightly from hours of laughter.

“You can’t just buy your way into performing at Lollapalooza!” she said, laughing wholeheartedly, the sound wrapping around you like a warm breeze.

“I bought my way to a lot of stuff” you pouted, leaning back against the pillows. 

“Never my education though, or my training… or our success… uhhh, amusement parks maybe. Also bought my way to revenge one time” you added with a mischievous grin.

“Mhmm, isn’t this buying your way to success?” she giggled, the corner of her lips curling up as her eyes sparkled.

“No, this is allocating resources to a dream I have” you shot back, smirking.

“And what’s that dream?” she asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

“To perform on the same stage as you” you answered, taking her hand gently and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“You’re such a flirt” she teased, her voice low, pulling you closer until her lips brushed yours in a gentle, lingering kiss.

You hadn’t planned for this. You had only meant to take some of her stress away, to offer her a small reprieve from the weight of performing on one of the biggest stages of her career.

It should’ve ended there, but neither of you moved. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask her to leave, and she didn’t seem in any rush. The air between you was thick with something fragile and electric, as if it could snap or ignite at any second.

She leaned a little closer, and suddenly, her presence was impossible to ignore: warm, sweet, with that sharp, intoxicating edge of her perfume that clung to your skin and made your pulse stutter.

“You’re staring” she murmured, voice low, teasing, eyes glinting in the dim light.

“Am I?” you countered, though your throat was tight, your lips dry, and your heartbeat too loud to ignore.

Daniela’s gaze flicked down to the lipstick that had rolled out of her bag earlier. She twirled it between her fingers slowly, deliberately, and your pulse jumped. Without a word, she uncapped it, pressing the rich pigment to her lips, which suddenly looked fuller, softer, almost dangerously inviting.

“Hold still” she whispered, leaning in, her breath brushing along your jaw.

Then, deliberate and slow, her lips pressed against your collarbone. You shivered as her fingers brushed your shoulder to steady you, the kiss leaving a bold, crimson mark; a silent claim, an unspoken invitation. She pulled back just enough to admire her work, her smile languid, confident, teasing.

“Perfect. Now everyone will know you’re mine” she murmured, the words sending a thrill straight through you.

“You do realize this won’t come off easily, right?” You swallowed hard, caught somewhere between laughter and heat.

“Good,” she said simply, before pressing a quick, warm kiss just above the mark. It was fleeting but deliberate, leaving no doubt about her intention.

The room fell into thick, heavy silence, broken only by the rapid thud of your heartbeat. Daniela tilted her head, her hair brushing your shoulder as she lingered just a second too long, and in that quiet moment, the line between almost and too much blurred in a way you weren’t sure you ever wanted to define.

After that, the night seemed to blur into something softer, something weightless. Gentle smiles exchanged in the hush between words, slow kisses that lingered like promises, the warm press of her body molding perfectly against yours. The room was cloaked in candlelight, golden flames flickering along the walls, their glow dancing across her skin as though the universe itself conspired to frame her in warmth. The air held the faint trace of her perfume: sweet, familiar, grounding; woven together with the earthy aroma of the late-night tea you’d made hours earlier, now forgotten on the nightstand.

Every laugh you shared, every whispered word breathed against your ear, every quiet brush of fingertips trailing over skin, each moment pressed itself into you like sunlight spilling through a window on a winter morning.

And then it came. The realization.

Ah. You truly do love this girl.

It wasn’t a sharp jolt, not a sudden revelation. No. 

It was gentle, calm, inevitable, like the slow unveiling of something that had always been there, waiting to be seen.

You gazed down at the sleeping beauty in your arms, her breaths soft and steady against your chest. She’d been too tired to fight her heavy eyelids, too exhausted to stay up, and now she lay curled against you in the most unguarded stillness. Carefully, you let your eyes trace her features, memorizing her in the fragile silence of the night: the delicate weight of her eyelids, framed by lashes so dark and long; the graceful slope of her nose; her lips, still tinted with the faintest trace of lipstick she had applied hours ago. Lips you knew by heart now, lips that haunted and healed you in equal measure.

Your heart ached with longing, tender and relentless. You wanted to press a kiss to the tip of her nose just to watch it scrunch in sleepy protest. You wanted to press your lips to the crown of her head as she burrowed deeper into your arms. You wanted to bury yourself in the curve of her neck and let the world disappear as sleep claimed you both.

And in that quiet, fragile moment, you could almost believe forever was possible.

But morning came too soon. The light crept in, pale and merciless, tugging you out of the cocoon of night. With painstaking care, you began to untangle yourself from her embrace, every movement slow, stealthy, unwilling to break the spell. She stirred only faintly, a sigh slipping past her lips, before falling still again.

You brushed one last glance at her: her messy hair spilled across the pillow, her skin glowing faintly in the early light, you smiled before reaching for your phone. A quick reply to Sophia, a soft explanation: Daniela stayed over.

Then you rose, moving on quiet feet, tiptoeing past your sleeping members, the house still cloaked in peace. The air felt different without her warmth tethering you, but the imprint of her lingered against your skin, against your soul.

And you carried it with you into the day, mind buzzing with a secret little checklist:

Tattoo Daniela’s kiss mark, literally.

Coffee and croissants.

A book she had been eyeing for weeks, knowing full well she’d be annoyed to find you gone when she wakes up.

Hours later, you slipped back in, hands full of breakfast, the quiet of the house broken only by the soft hum of the morning. Most of your members were still asleep, curled up in blankets in their respective rooms, but one figure remained awake on the sofa, absorbed in her book. Thick-rimmed glasses framed her face perfectly, her hair falling just so over her shoulders, and you froze for a moment, taking her in.

“Where have you been?” Her voice cut through the stillness, calm but edged with something teasing, a gentle reprimand that sent a shiver down your spine, not from fear, but from the way she said it: soft, raspy, deliberate, intimate.

“Breakfast?” you offered, voice sheepish as you held up the paper bags, trying to look nonchalant, hoping the simple gesture could buy your way back into her good graces.

“Breakfast, huh? You’re lucky I’m hungry” Her eyes flicked up from the page, a slow, knowing smile tugging at her lips

You set the bags down carefully, trying not to let your pulse show as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, eyes glinting with amusement. The air between you was warm and quiet, but the electricity from last night still lingered, a subtle current that seemed to hum through the space even across the sofa cushions. She closed her book and stretched, slow and deliberate, a movement that made your chest tighten. 

“You’re luckier that I’m craving croissants,” she teased, reaching for one from your carefully balanced paper bags.

“Lucky… or observant and romantic?” you countered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, letting your fingers linger just a moment longer than necessary. 

Her laugh was low, teasing, and it sent a thrill straight down your spine. You smiled at the sound of her laugh, trying to mask the cuteness aggression that was bubbling up. 

“Maybe a little of both,” she murmured, eyes sparkling as they finally met yours, truly met yours, as if weighing exactly how mischievous you’d been.

And in that quiet morning, over the smell of fresh croissants and warm coffee, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you, tangled in moments that could have stretched forever.

Then, mid-bite, her fingers suddenly tugged at your shirt. 

“...Is that a cling film?” she blurted, eyes widening as she pulled your shirt down even further, exposing the full fresh artwork on your skin.

“DID YOU GET MY KISS MARK TATTOOED?!” she shrieked, half laughing, half horrified.

“Surprise…” You shrugged, a sly grin tugging at your lips. 

Her hands flew to your chest, trying to tug the shirt up again as her laugh turned into a mixture of disbelief and delight. 

“You’re crazy" she gasped, shaking her head in mock exasperation, eyes still wide and sparkling with mischief.

And you couldn’t help but grin back, heart racing, not from fear, not from guilt, but from the undeniable, deliciously charged intimacy that had somehow become your morning routine.

The studio lights were low, just enough to catch the sheen of sweat on your skin and the faint outlines of your reflection in the mirrors. The room smelled faintly of wax and old wood, a familiar cocoon where every move was dissected and sharpened. 

You felt guilty, you were lying to Dani, lying to the rest of the girls, but the truth was tangled. When Sohey asked you to step in after one of their backup dancers got sick, you should’ve hesitated. Instead, you’d said yes without thinking. Not just for the thrill of Lollapalooza, not even for the challenge. You wanted this because it meant her. 

It meant surprising Daniela in the one place she belonged most: on stage.

So, here you were, in secret rehearsals with Grant and Sohey, burning through hours to master the Gabriela dance break, the part she loved most, based on the excited tone of her voice whenever she talked about the choreography, and the numerous videos she sent of their rehearsals.

“Again. From the top. I want it to be cleaner" Grant’s voice cut through your haze of exhaustion, his clap echoing against the empty walls like a gunshot.

You nodded, sucking in a shaky breath. Your lungs burned, your shirt clung damp to your back, but none of it mattered. Across the room, Sohey adjusted the track on his laptop, shooting you a grin that was equal parts encouragement and mischief.

“She’s going to lose her mind when she sees you out there,” he teased.

Your stomach flipped. You can picture it in your mind already; Dani’s face lit by stage lights, her eyes widening the second they landed on you. The thought made your muscles ache less, made your body move even when your bones begged you to stop.

“Only if I don’t mess it up,” you muttered, rolling your shoulders loose.

“You won’t. Your body knows the steps. Trust it. And remember… ” Grant snorted, snapping his fingers while he demonstrated the move again, sharp and precise, imitating Daniela’s spin

“...you don’t shrink from her. You meet her. You match her fire. That’s how she dances best, with someone who gives it back"

The track started, the familiar Latin guitar flooding the room, heat curling in your chest. You slid into position, counting the beats in your head. Spin. Step. Catch. The movements lived in your body now, no longer forced, but flowing, alive. In the mirror, you almost startled at what you saw: not the shaky idol who still second-guessed herself, but someone sharp, magnetic, dangerous. Someone who could stand beside Daniela, not behind her.

“You’re good,” Sohey said from the sidelines, though his tone was edged with something more thoughtful. He walked over, tapping lightly against your sternum. 

“But you’re holding back here. Don’t just dance the steps, make them mean something. She’ll feel it"

Your throat tightened. Because that’s all you wanted. You wanted her to feel you, really feel you, through every breath, every step. As if she hadn’t already unraveled you with the smallest glance, the way her fingers sometimes brushed yours between takes.

The music cut. Silence fell heavy. Grant leaned back, arms crossed, his grin wide and satisfied. 

“That’s it. That’s the one. That’s what you bring to Lolla" Sohey hoots, clapping you at your back

Your legs finally gave out, and you sank to the floor, pressing your back against the cool mirror. The glass soothed your overheated skin, a relief against the burn in your muscles. Breathless, you lifted your water bottle, your grip still trembling from the endless repetitions.

The secret burned in your chest. It was reckless, risky, but exhilarating. Not even your members knew. You could already imagine it: the moment the lights hit, the crowd roaring, and Daniela’s face when she realized. That flicker of recognition in her eyes, that was what you were working for.

And soon, the chance arrived.

Screams detonated through the arena, a tidal wave of sound that shook Daniela’s chest and made her heart beat harder. The crowd wasn’t just loud; they were alive, chanting their names with a force so powerful it nearly carried her off her feet. This was what she lived for, the connection, the joy, the intoxicating rush of being seen by thousands at once.

“Mean Girls” had ended in chaos and laughter. The song wasn’t choreographed, just pure fun: a camera was shoved into their hands, silly faces at the big screens, dancing like kids playing in the rain. Daniela’s lungs still ached from laughing when the last note faded.

But then came the first pulse of “Gabriela" The air shifted. Instantly, bodies snapped into position, sharp, sultry and certain. The crowd’s cheers rose like fire catching wind. Daniela smirked, rolling her shoulders back. They weren’t ready.

The choreography was electric; Latin rhythms fused with sharp k-pop methodology, every step rooted in who she was. As she spun, her skirt whipped around her like flames, catching the stage lights, making her feel as though she was dancing inside her own fire.

Sophia’s lift drew a wave of gasps, and then it was Daniela’s moment, her solo. She braced, every muscle taut with adrenaline, ready to strike.

And that was when she felt it.

Warmth at her waist. Steady hands. The unmistakable presence of someone guiding her through the movement, grounding her even as the world spun. Her eyes widened, and instinct carried her through the flip; perfect, seamless, the roar of the arena nearly shaking the floor.

She turned, breath hitching.

Your eyes locked on hers, sultry, steady, burning with something unspoken. The sight made her breath hitch. For a heartbeat, Daniela forgot the lights, the music, the thousands screaming her name.

There was only you.

The two of you moved together in perfect synchrony, executing the partnered dance steps that she held so close to her heart. Every touch, every pivot, every slide of your hands across her back was electric. She could feel the strength in your arms, anchoring her with ease. Your rhythm mirrored hers so perfectly that it felt less like choreography and more like fate, the way her world seemed to narrow until it existed only between the two of you.

Her eyes betrayed her, flicking again and again to yours. Even as her mind screamed to focus on the steps, she couldn’t ignore the flashes that she stole: the taut curve of your arms, the raw intensity in your gaze. Every glimpse made something coil tighter in her chest, made her skin hum with awareness.

It terrified her.

Because it felt too natural. Too easy. Too right. Too effortless. She had never been with a woman before, never imagined she could feel this way. 

She had told herself this… whatever this was, couldn’t be real. That it was just curiosity, a reckless fascination she could bury if she tried hard enough. But here you were, living proof of how wrong she’d been.

But today with her in your arms, with your eyes locked on hers and your touch lingering in all the right places, she realized that wasn’t enough. She could get used to this. She could grow addicted to it. Not just used to you, she could care. She could want you in ways that would set back feminism by decades. 

Most of all, she could… love you, in a way she had never allowed herself to imagine.

And that realization hit her like a tidal wave, thrilling and terrifying all at once. It made her chest tighten, her stomach flip, and yet, in the middle of all the lights, screams, and music, it felt impossibly intimate, impossibly right.

But the ache beneath it all was sharp; the ache of knowing the world outside this moment was complicated, messy, and not quite ready for what she was starting to feel. The thought of losing you, of having to step back from this fire that had sparked so suddenly, clawed at her heart with the force of a storm she hadn’t seen coming.

And yet, even with that fear gnawing at her, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into you, from letting herself be carried by the rhythm, by the closeness, by the undeniable gravity of you. Every brush of your skin against hers, every subtle glance that lingered just a moment too long, set her pulse racing.

Then, almost against her will, came the darker thought, sharp as broken glass: 

What if someone else was here instead of me? 

The thought twisted in her chest, an ache of possessiveness and fear. The idea of another hand tracing the lines she so desperately wanted to only belong to her, someone else’s hand at your waist, someone else’s eyes drawing that same heat from you, made her stomach knot and her breath hitch. 

She could feel it: pure, primal jealousy, fierce and unreasoned, and it terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her.

God forbid she imagined anyone else in your position; the thought alone made her pulse spike, her hands clench in her lap. She could…no. She would protect this, protect you, with every ounce of herself if she had to.

It scared her. It thrilled her. It consumed her. Onstage, surrounded by thousands, Daniela had never felt so exposed. So alive. So consumed.

Because tonight, in your arms, she realized the truth. No matter how terrifying or impossible, she couldn’t stop wanting you.

Not anymore.

You barely had time to catch your breath after your Lollapalooza cameo. The fans caused such a massive uproar on every social media platform, clips of you and Daniela dancing as well as Manon and Lara’s surprise choreography in “MIA” shocked the crowd so much that they kept editing those clips until now. In fact, you were still trending even after months, which caused your group’s fame to skyrocket once more.

The break you were promised never came, only a sharper, hungrier grind. Especially with your cancelled concert and that extended “vacation” in the Philippines, time had collapsed into nothing but a blur of motion.

Airports. Security lines. Airplane cabins where you didn’t remember takeoff, only the sudden jolt of landing. Rehearsal studios with mirrors that magnified your exhaustion until it mocked you. Interview chairs where your mouth smiled and spoke as rehearsed, even while your spine screamed and your voice frayed at the edges. Fans looked at you as if you hung the stars in their sky, and you let them. You clung to it, even when your own sky had long since burned out.

The machine was swallowing you whole. Every city bled into the next. Every cheer melted into the same faceless roar. But through it all, there was Dani.

Her voice notes raspy with sleep, soft enough to make your heart unclench. Her 2 a.m. texts are trivial, ridiculous, but grounding in a way nothing else could be. Her blurry hotel selfies with her visibly half-asleep, hair a mess, but proof she was thinking of you even when her world pulled her in a dozen directions.

For a while, she was your light at the end of the tunnel. A small, stubborn flame you carried in your pocket, reminding you there was something more than choreography and contracts, more than airports and empty hotel rooms.

Until that light began to dim.

Her replies came slower now. A voice note once every few days instead of every night. You caught yourself staring at her read receipts too long, watching the little gray text: seen sitting there like a bruise. Hours became days. Days became silence.

Every time you typed something, you stopped.

Are you okay? Are we okay? Do you still want me?

Then you erased it, the blinking cursor eating the words until your screen was blank again. Because asking meant risking the answer. And the thought of her confirming your worst fear felt worse than the silence itself.

So when her name finally lit up your phone, you became someone else. Your voice went bright, teasing, a little too light. You talked about your day. You laughed when she said something funny. You swallowed every question clawing up your throat. 

As long as she was happy, then you’d be happy for her. That’s what you told yourself, over and over, even as something inside you splintered.

But no matter how you spun it, the silence pressed against your lungs until it hurt to breathe. The tunnel you’d been running through for months was closing in, and Dani, your Dani, was still the flicker of light you chased. Only now, it felt like it was dimming.

And then came the night that finally broke you.

You had just finished performing for the Sailors, the fans who screamed so loudly you felt your skin might split under their noise, who smiled at you like you were everything they needed. You smiled back until your cheeks burned. You kept it up until you could finally leave the stage.

Back at the hotel, fatigue seeped into your bones. You were running on autopilot; peeling off your stage clothes, pulling on sleepwear, collapsing face-first onto the bed with a groan. For a heartbeat you let yourself imagine her next to you, brushing the hair from your face, whispering something soft.

Then you made the mistake of opening your phone.

“SIREN5 SYRE performed at Lollapalooza with KATSEYE” “KATSEYE Lara hinted at a relationship with SIREN5 Amara?” “SIREN5 Cami and KATSEYE Megan spotted at the 2hollis concert” “Daniela Avanzini spotted downtown LA with Jonah David" “Are Jonah and Dani the next it-couple?” “Exclusive: eyewitness accounts confirm Jonah and Daniela’s chemistry"

The headlines bled into your feed, one after another, each post louder than the last. At first you scrolled faster, as if speed could save you. Then slower, as if maybe reading every word would explain something. Then you just stared, thumb frozen, while the comment sections tore into a story that didn’t belong to you but somehow gutted you all the same.

The phone screen glowed in the dark of your hotel room, the only light against your sleepless eyes. You replayed her fading replies in your head. The half-hearted excuses. The silences that stretched too long.

Was it one-sided? Were you just a phase? An experiment she discarded? Had you imagined a happy ending with a girl who only saw you as a chapter in her life?

You wanted to call her. To ask. To fight. But your fingers wouldn’t move. You’d built your entire world around her voice, her smile, her texts, and if you asked the wrong question, it might all shatter. 

So you stayed quiet. You stayed loyal. You stayed hers, even if you weren’t sure she was still yours.

And the next day, when the cameras rolled, you still had to be you: the dorky loser in a hot body, the chaotic gremlin who tripped over cords in rehearsals and made fans laugh with terrible impressions. On stage you winked, smirked, played into the power you’d built. To your group you cracked jokes, teased, pretended to be fine.

But inside, every smile felt heavier. Every laugh felt hollow. Every glance in the mirror showed a girl who was breaking in places no one was allowed to see, especially not the girl she loved.

You carried on because that’s the only thing you knew how to do.

She fucked up.

Oh, she knew she fucked up.

She could try to blame it on the schedule; the endless stream of interviews, rehearsals, flights, and photoshoots that blurred together until she collapsed into hotel beds before her phone even buzzed. She could point fingers at the fans, the paparazzi, the relentless flash of cameras that made her every step public property. She could even curse the time zones, the exhaustion, the jet lag. But excuses were smoke, and smoke didn’t hide the fire.

The truth was simpler. Sharper. Crueler.

She was a coward.

A coward who flinched at the intensity of her own feelings, who let fear dictate silence. A coward who couldn’t look directly at how much she cared for you without choking on it. She had kept it buried, convinced herself that it was safer to pretend. Safer to let things stay undefined. Safer to keep her heart behind glass.

But safety had a price. And now… she could feel it: sharp, hollow, merciless in her chest. 

She was losing you.

It struck her like a riptide, dragging her under.

You hadn’t turned cold, not exactly. That would have been easier. 

No, you were worse, you were distant. Softly, politely distant. Not cruel. Not unkind. Just… careful. Careful in ways you hadn’t been before. You treated her like a college acquaintance. 

The signs had been small, but she couldn’t unsee them now.

Your replies still came quick, but they were clipped, thinner somehow. The kind of fast that felt obligatory. You still sent her pictures, but only if she asked and never the floods of candid snapshots she used to drown in at random hours, laughing at your chaos. You still asked about her day, still nodded at her stories during late-night calls, still gave her that polite half-smile through the camera but the warmth that once poured through the screen had dimmed.

It was like talking to you through a pane of glass. She could see you, hear you, but she couldn’t reach you.

And she knew whose fault it was.

Every distant look, every hesitant word, every silence where laughter used to be, those weren’t accidents. They were consequences. Consequences of her cowardice.

She had told herself this was normal. That it was just the chaos of two busy lives colliding, schedules grinding against each other until the seams frayed. That nothing had changed, not really. That it was just in her head. 

Until… Sophia barged into her room, phone in hand, eyes blazing with anger and urgency.

“Daniela! Are you serious? Look at this!”

The image flashed on the screen, a photo fans had snapped, dissected, and blown into a story she had no idea existed. Her with Jonah. His hand holding her bag. Matching outfits. Casual smiles. The closeness misread, misrepresented, spun into rumors that had grown wild overnight. Her stomach dropped, chest hollow, pulse skyrocketing.

“No…” she whispered, voice trembling, hands clutching the edge of her chair. 

“No, no, no, that’s not- he’s not- I have no idea-”

“You have no idea?” Sophia’s voice cut through her panic like lightning. 

“Do you ever stop to think what this looks like from her point of view? It looks like you’re cheating on her. And you’re not even together yet. Daniela Avanzini. What do you think you’re doing, huh? Is this just a game to you? Is she some doll you can play with? Because she's not."

The words hit like a slap. The truth, undeniable, unrelenting: she had been blind. She hadn’t checked her phone, hadn’t scrolled, hadn’t seen the storm building until it had landed squarely on your shoulders. You were hurting, and she hadn’t noticed.

Mortified, heat crawling up her neck, palms slick with sweat, Dani’s chest ached, lungs tight, heartbeat frantic. She needed to fix this. She had to. But… where? How? The thought of approaching you, seeing your eyes and risking a refusal, a hurt, a coldness, she didn’t know if she could bear it.

“I- I can explain!” she blurted, pacing in a frenzy. 

“Jonah! He’s just a friend! He was holding my bag because the strap snapped! The matching outfits? Pure coincidence! I was smiling because I saw the eyekons and waved at them from across the street! I didn’t even know the fans got a picture-”

Sophia blinked. Her mouth opened then closed. Then blinked again. Then… facepalmed. Hard. The sound echoed off the walls.

“Wait” Sophia said, trying and failing not to laugh. 

“You’re… telling me all this… was because… eyekons think you're in a relationship… with your friend who held your bag for five seconds?” Dani froze, the blush of embarrassment creeping up her neck. 

“Yes! And- oh god, I- I didn’t see the rumors. I wasn’t… I mean, I wasn’t scrolling. I was thinking about her- about you know who- and I-” Her voice cracked. 

“I’m in love with her, Sophia. I’m in love with her. And I’ve been too stupid and too scared to say it and now she’s- she’s pulling away, and I don’t know what to do!”

Sophia laughed. Hard. Loud. Her head shook as tears of exasperation glistened in her eyes. The Filipina leader can't believe that she's dealing with two overdramatic idiots who can't communicate properly, two idiots who'd rather sulk than actually talk to each other like proper adults.

“Oh. My. God. Dani. You- you just invented a dating scandal over… holding a bag. And color-coded outfits. That’s your big crisis. You’re a disaster" She gestured dramatically at Dani, voice still caught between disbelief and amusement. 

“But also… okay, okay, fine. I get it. You love her. Good. That’s progress. But seriously? Fix this before you accidentally invent a whole fanpage about a nonexistent affair. Miscommunication is seriously not my favorite trope"

Dani’s shoulders slumped, the weight of mortification settling over her, but somewhere underneath, relief bloomed.

“So… I just… go to her?” she asked quietly, voice tentative.

“Yes,” Sophia said, smirking, the laughter softening but still lingering in her tone. 

“Go. Apologize for being oblivious, apologize for panicking, apologize for the bag fiasco… maybe leave Jonah out entirely. And Dani? Don’t fuck this up again."

The words lingered, echoing in Dani’s mind, but instinctively, only two names sprang to her lips.

“Megan. Lara"

Before she could second-guess herself, she barreled into their room, breath ragged, words spilling faster than her brain could keep up with. Megan and Lara, the queer duo of the group, shot her sharp, calculating glares, the kind that silently warned her they weren’t in the mood for nonsense. 

Yeah, they heard all about it from their respective girlfriends and have been ignoring Dani for the past week or so.

“You-” Megan began, but Dani cut her off, pacing frantically, hands tangling in her hair.

“I know I hurt her. I know I took too long. I know it’s my fault. I know it’s my mistake! I need to make it up to her, and I don’t know how to do this because I’ve never been in love with a girl besides that one girl in high school, but like, I don’t even know if I liked liked her or-” The words tumbled out, frantic and unfiltered, almost incoherent. The room felt smaller, spinning around her panic, walls closing in.

“Dani, breathe,” Lara said, calm and grounded, moving forward to steady her. Her hands found Dani’s shoulders, halting the frantic pacing. Megan’s eyes softened slightly, but she stayed seated, arms crossed, watching Dani with patient intensity.

Dani’s chest heaved, throat tight, eyes wide. She wanted, no, needed to call you, to apologize, to beg forgiveness, to make things right. But fear gripped her. The terror of seeing your expression, of risking rejection or coldness, froze her in place.

“I… I can’t lose her,” she whispered, voice cracking, almost swallowed by the room’s quiet. 

“I can’t. And I don’t know how to fix it" She sobbed, burying her head on Lara’s shoulder

“Then start. Just start. Reach her. Be honest. No excuses, no hiding. Just… tell her the truth. That’s your only chance” Lara wrapped her arms around her gently, grounding her. 

“Yeah. You screwed up, big time. But the fact that you’re panicking like this? That you care enough to come to us instead of letting it rot? That’s the first step. Don’t waste it" Megan leaned forward, her voice low but firm.

Dani nodded, heart hammering, a flicker of resolve threading through her panic. Somewhere between fear and hope, determination sparked. She had to reach you. She had to show you, truly, completely, that she had only ever wanted you, and that she would do whatever it took to make sure you knew it.

“Besides, it’s not that different from a guy, you know? You don’t have to overthink too much.” Lara added, patting her shoulder with an encouraging smirk. 

“Ehh… it is… it’s a little different… dating women is definitely harder,” Megan countered, arms crossed but teasing in tone.

“True. All you need to do with a man is stroke their ego, give them head, and boom, you’re fine,” Lara said solemnly, nodding as if delivering sage advice.

Dani blinked. She had been panicking moments ago, and now she was hearing sex talk from her friends, who are younger than her, mind you. She froze.

“Let’s not get off topic here,” she sighed, facepalming herself.

“Oh yes! Do you need our help?” Megan’s eyes twinkled, full of mischief.

“Say yes,” Lara said, smirk curling on her lips, gaze boring into Dani’s, spine-tingling in its intensity.

“Uhm… sure?” Dani admitted, surrendering.

The duo erupted, whooping in celebration, arms flailing. Dani exhaled shakily, a smile tugging at her lips despite the chaos. She had a feeling relying on these two gay disasters might be a mistake but what choice did she have?

She needed help. And they were it.

“Oh wow. Couples galore" Your voice dripped with bitter sarcasm as you stepped into the dressing room assigned to your group.

The promo tour had wrung you dry, your body still damp with sweat, hair plastered to your temples, every muscle aching in ways that made you wonder if you’d ever stop feeling sore. You were tired. Bone-deep tired. Not just physically, but emotionally, romantically, like every part of you had been stretched too thin.

And yet, the second you walked in, the scene before you only added to the weight pressing down on your chest.

Lara was straddling Amara on the couch, arms looped lazily around her neck as if they hadn’t seen each other in decades, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls in love. Across the room, Cami sat perched on Megan’s lap, head tilted back in laughter while Megan fed her grapes with the over-the-top flair of a Roman emperor.

It was domestic. It was sickeningly sweet. It was everything you didn’t have.

“You jealous? You can always join us." Cami teased without missing a beat, her voice sing-song as she leaned down to press a playful kiss against Megan’s lips.

You made a face, clutching your stomach dramatically. 

“I’m going to throw up" You fake-gagged, the noise earning a snort from Lara.

“Oh, please. You could just, you know… put on a strap and confess to Dani already" Lara wiggled her brows, voice laced with mischief.

“What?” Your face heated up instantly.

“No way” Cami cut in before you could recover, sticking her tongue out at Lara like a child. 

“Dani needs to confess to her or I’ll rip her extensions out myself"

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“Don’t" Your voice cracked like a whip, sharp and final. The laughter faltered, leaving behind a ripple of silence. Your lips pressed into a thin line as you busied yourself with your bag, unwilling to give them more fuel.

“Hey” a softer voice broke through the tension. Rina. Always Rina. She appeared at your side, moving with quiet efficiency. 

“Hana told me to make sure you take these" She slipped a packet of lozenges and a teabag into your bag, tucking them neatly into a side pocket. 

“I heard your voice turning scratchy at the end there. Drink these, okay? And sleep. No excuses."

The gentle care in her tone nearly undid you. You nodded, swallowing down the tightness in your throat.

“Where’s Hana anyway?” you asked, hoisting your duffel onto your shoulder with a grunt as you headed for the door, leaving the couples’ laughter muffled behind you.

“She went ahead to confirm the hotel rooms" Rina’s reply was casual, but her smile was soft as she waved at the cluster of fans pressed against the barricades outside.

You followed her lead, plastering on a grin, winking at a few fans, and grabbing as many gifts as your free hand could manage. A sharpie appeared in your grip as if by muscle memory, and you signed albums, photocards, scraps of paper, anything they pushed forward. Their screams grew louder as Cami and Megan spilled out of the building, hand in hand like something out of a music video, followed closely by Lara and Amara, equally wrapped up in each other, making you bite back a sigh. 

“This is giving me a headache,” you muttered as the van door slid shut behind you, sealing you away from the chaos.

The ride to the hotel dragged. The driver took a longer route to avoid the cars tailing behind, weaving through backstreets and dim-lit intersections. Your head rested against the cool window, city lights blurring into smears of gold and red.

You should’ve felt relief. Safety. But instead, all you felt was the yawning ache in your chest. Surrounded by love, you had never felt more alone. 

You moved like a zombie: keycard from Hana in the lobby, elevator with staff, trudging the hallway with your hood up, headphones sealed over your ears, mask hiding what little expression you had left. The card beeped against the lock, and you pushed inside with the kind of sigh that felt ripped out of you. Your bag on the floor. The door shut. Shoulders slumped.

You stripped your shirt off without a thought-

“Oh…"

You froze, skin prickling as if the air had changed.

Daniela stood in the middle of your room, a bouquet clutched in her arms like a lifeline, surrounded by a ridiculous explosion of balloons, confetti and rose petals.

The scene felt surreal, like stepping into someone else’s life. Candles glowed warmly from every surface (a fire hazard if you’d ever seen one, how the hell did the hotel allow this?). A cake sat waiting on the table, scrawled with the words I’m so sorry, mi vida. A teddy bear taller than you slouched in the corner. Fairy lights tangled across the walls and ceiling. Confetti dusted the carpet in a glittering mess. On the bed, a stuffed tiger and moose sat side by side, as if they too were nervous.

But the centerpiece was her.

Dani… Fuck. She was stunning in a curve-hugging dress, curls loose and wild, lips worrying at themselves nervously. She looked like she’d been waiting for hours, fidgeting with every heartbeat.

“So, uh… I mean, I like the view but…” she joked weakly, her voice breaking the silence that had thickened between you. Heat flared through your face. 

“Fuck! Yes, sorry. I’m always half-naked and humiliated around you, it seems" You tugged your shirt back on with fumbling hands, as if fabric could shield you from the sudden intensity of being seen.

Silence again. A silence that wasn’t comfortable, not anymore, one that hummed like static between you, heavy with all the things unsaid.

Dani shifted the bouquet from one arm to the other. Her knuckles were white against the stems. 

“I know I messed up" Her voice was quiet, too quiet, like she was afraid it would splinter if she spoke louder. 

“I- God, I don’t even know where to start. I’m sorry" The words trembled, naked and unpolished, not the soundbite-perfect apology you’d expect from someone used to cameras.

“I thought distance would protect me. Protect you" She swallowed hard, her eyes darting between you and the carpet littered with petals. 

“I thought if I kept… at the safe distance, I wouldn’t drown in how much I feel for you. I thought that I’d be satisfied with what we had. I took you for granted. For so long. And I-”

Your throat tightened. The air smelled of roses, sugar and her intoxicating perfume; it pressed in on you, cloying and suffocating. She took a step forward, breath hitching audibly, the flowers trembling in her grip. 

“But all I did was hurt you. And the worst part is… I saw it happening. I saw you retreat, little by little, and I still couldn’t stop myself. Because I’m a coward" Her voice cracked on the word. 

“I’m scared of what happens if we cross this line. I’m scared that I’ll lose you. I’m scared of what it means about me. About everything I thought I knew about myself"

“Do you even know what it felt like? To see the rumors, the pictures, him, and think maybe I was just some… experiment? Some distraction until someone easier came along? Someone perfect and someone who society can swallow easily?” You swallowed hard, your voice slipping out before you could stop it, trembling and raw.

Her face crumpled like glass under pressure. She looked so unlike the Dani the world knew; no confidence, no pose, just a girl shaking under the weight of her own heart. 

“No. No, mi vida. You’re not- God, you’re not that. Never that." Her voice broke, a sob trapped in her throat. 

“You’re her. You’re it. You’re all I want. All I’ve ever wanted, even when I was too scared to admit it"

The bouquet slipped. Petals drifted to the floor like tiny wounded things as she reached for you with one trembling hand. Not demanding, not insistent, just there. Open. Desperate.

“Please” she whispered. 

“Let me make this right" she sobbed, her lips trembling like her hand

You stared at her hand, your own hovering above it. Your heart was hammering, a cornered rabbit’s heartbeat, your mind screaming with everything you couldn’t say: how you’d been holding yourself together with tape and string; how you’d rehearsed telling her you were happy for her, even if it meant she never came back to you; how you wanted her happiness even at the price of your own. Your fingers brushed hers, tentative. 

“Do you mean it?” you asked. The words tasted like surrender, like hope you didn’t dare name. Your hand shook in her grasp, your voice trembling with the effort of holding everything back.

Her eyes shone. She nodded once, fierce, as if the movement itself was a vow. 

“I mean it,” she said, low and hoarse. 

“I’m done hiding. I’m done pretending. I don’t care if it terrifies me. I don’t care if the world burns me for it. I choose you. I want you" The words landed in you like a blow and a balm at once. Something inside you splintered, not in pain, but in release, like a dam finally cracking.

You wanted to say I want you too. You wanted to fold into her arms, bury your face in her shoulder, and let her promises be enough. But instead you closed your eyes, swallowing hard, your thumb brushing the back of her hand in a small, trembling gesture.

“You don’t have to ruin your life for me,” you murmured, soft but steady. 

“If the world isn’t ready, if you’re not ready, I can… I can live with being a secret. I just want you to be happy"

Dani’s breath hitched like she’d been struck. Her grip on your hand tightened; not painful, but grounding, like she was holding onto an anchor. She stepped closer, until the air between you thinned to a fragile thread, your joined hands pressed between you, her forehead lowering until it hovered just above yours.

“I’m only happy if I’m honest,” she whispered, voice trembling but sure. 

“I’m only happy if it’s you"

The room seemed to hold its breath: candles flickering, fairy lights glowing soft, petals like scattered confessions on the floor as the distance between you shrank to mere inches. Her perfume mixed with the sweetness of the cake, the sharpness of roses, a scent that felt dizzying and real all at once.

“Ikaw lang ang gusto ko" Dani spoke with an accent so adorable, so tender, it cracked a laugh out of you before you could stop yourself.

“I swear Sophia said it meant-” She fumbled, cheeks flushing, eyes darting away.

“Yes love, it meant ‘You’re all I want,’” you said, a soft giggle spilling out despite the ache still coiled in your chest. 

“You’re so cute" You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her skin was warm under your lips, and she let out a shaky exhale like she’d been holding her breath for months.

“I mean it” she murmured, her voice catching but not breaking. 

“I love you. It’s you I love" Her lips hovered over yours now, trembling, the words quivering in the space between you like an open wound and a prayer.

“I love you as well,” you muttered back, your hands finding her waist, hesitant at first, then firm, like you were anchoring yourself to her.

And then you closed the gap.

It wasn’t fireworks at first; it was a tremor. A shudder. A sigh you didn’t know you’d been holding. And then, as her mouth moved against yours: slow, reverent, desperate, the world shifted. Warmth bled into you until you felt dizzy with it. Colors burst behind your eyes. The ache in your chest eased, replaced by something molten and vast.

You didn’t just feel butterflies. You felt wings. You felt galaxies. When you broke for air, foreheads still pressed, her nose brushing against yours, you felt as though everything clicked into place.

“Minamahal kita,” she whispered against your lips, her accent softer this time, like the words belonged to her now.

“Te quiero más” you whispered back, the syllables trembling out of you like a secret you’d always kept.

And for a moment, just one, stolen, infinite moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. There were no eyekons, no sailors, no fame, no cameras, no management, no PR nightmare. Only her hands on your waist, only your trembling breaths mingling, only the quiet, aching truth you’d both been too afraid to name until now.

She was your undoing and your salvation in the same breath. The spark that unraveled you and the fire that nursed you back together. You had written her into lyrics a thousand times in shadows and melodies, and here she was: flesh, blood, trembling lips, writing, etching herself into your very soul in return.

What is an artist without her muse? A song without rhythm, a canvas without light.

And what is a muse without her artist? A flame with nowhere to burn.

“...Was the confetti Megan’s idea?” 

“Yep.” 

“Figured… The strap?”

“...Lara.”

“That checks out.”

fin

a bonus compilation of you and dani being the “private but not secret” couple

I.

The next few weeks with your now girlfriend… god, you still couldn’t believe you got to call her that, felt strangely the same and completely different all at once. Nothing had really changed, not outwardly. 

But every stolen glance, every casual brush of her hand against yours carried a weight now, a secret language you both were still learning to speak.

Loving Daniela Avanzini was slow but all-consuming. Being with Dani meant being her safe place. She was still figuring things out, still skirting around labels when cameras were rolling or when questions turned sharp, but none of that stopped her from being clingy. If anything, it only made her more so. She was in your room nearly every other night, curled against you on the couch with some excuse about “needing warmth and background noise to sleep,” or shamelessly hogging your bed like she had always belonged there.

It led to funny moments, too, like the time Lara was sneaking down the hall at midnight with snacks in hand, only to nearly collide with Megan, who was smuggling Dani out of your room with her hoodie pulled over her head. The three of them froze like deer in headlights before bursting into stifled laughter. 

Officially, you weren’t public yet. Management made sure of that, warning both groups about the media storm that would inevitably follow. But fans weren’t oblivious. Not when you and Dani seemed to orbit each other no matter how big the room was. Not when there were clips of you automatically carrying her bag, or her casually fixing your hair before stages, unaware of the cameras capturing every second. 

SIREN5 and KATSEYE didn’t help much either. Between Amara’s offhand comments about “our girlfriends” and Sophia’s mischievous smirk whenever anyone asked who was dating who, the lines blurred more than management would ever like.

The worst offender, though, was the so-called “forgotten footage” incident: a livestream you and Cami swore was harmless until it wasn’t.

You’d been rambling happily about your most recent LEGO build, the Cullen family home you built for Manon, when Cami squinted at the screen and groaned.

“‘Does the carpet match the drapes?’” she read aloud, gagging so dramatically she almost fell off her chair. 

“What the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked in a while. I’m sure your mom has a picture of it somewhere.” You rolled your eyes, shooting the camera a dry look. 

Chat went feral. Cami wheezed, choking on her laughter, then leaned in to your ear just enough to mutter

“Pretty sure Dani does.”

Your palm connected with her arm so fast she yelped. You were still smiling for the stream, but your wide-eyed glare at her could’ve cut through steel.

Both your phones buzzed at the same time. 

Hana: Stop. The. Live. Now.

The footage was gone within minutes, but not before clips had already circulated, cementing the incident into fandom lore.

The real tipping point, though, was the newly released vlog: “a day of beautiful chaos.”

It was supposed to be simple: just you, Manon, and Daniela heading to the gym as part of the tour promotion series. But fans didn’t miss the way Dani lingered a beat too long while handing you your water bottle, or how you instinctively wiped sweat off her temple with your towel like it was second nature. When she cracked a joke and you doubled over laughing, Manon side-eyed the camera, shaking her head as if she knew something the audience didn’t.

And then when Dani volunteered to be your spotter while you were doing hip thrusts, the camera caught her sweeping stare and slightly parted jaw. 

“Oh my god, she’s not even counting, she’s just watching her” Manon laughed in the background, the audio wasn’t edited out, which only made it worse.

The rest of the vlog didn’t help either. During squats, Dani’s staring was so obvious that Manon had to nudge her with an elbow. Dani jumped, blinking like she’d been caught, and quickly turned away only for the camera to pan and catch her sneaking another glance a second later. The comments section went wild with freeze-frames and timestamps.

Even during breaks, Dani gave herself away. When you bent to retie your shoelaces, she crouched down beside you like it was the most natural thing, handing you a hair tie you didn’t even ask for. Manon’s muffled laugh carried over the clip, followed by her muttering:

“Subtle, Dani. Real subtle.”

Later in the vlog, when you and Dani shared a set of weights, she muttered “Careful” so softly it almost didn’t register on audio, but your answering smile was enough to send comment sections into overdrive. And when Manon playfully shoved both of you toward the treadmill, the way Dani’s hand automatically found your lower back as you stumbled sealed the deal.

And then came the moment that the sailors clipped eternally. It was you taking off your pump cover in front of the mirror. Manon and Daniela both screamed in harmony, seemingly fangirling over you while your face heated up in embarrassment.

By the time the vlog ended with Manon dramatically flexing for the camera while you and Dani whispered something off to the side, viewers didn’t need confirmation. They already knew.

It wasn’t a confession. Not yet. But the vlog lived up to its title: beautiful, chaotic, and threaded with all the little secrets that made fans watch it on repeat, frame by frame, desperate to confirm what they already suspected.

II.

Oh yeah, the fans definitely knew now. You still hadn’t confirmed it, your management were holding onto that “no comment” line for dear life but with all the edits and compilations being made? You basically knew that they knew. 

Daniela? She was thriving in it. Teasing, baiting, and practically fanning the flames every chance she got.

How could it be any less obvious? You were both spotted wearing each other’s clothes on multiple occasions. The most damning one: you walking into an official fan meet wearing the exact leather jacket Dani wore during KATSEYE’s “debut” at Lollapalooza, her name written in bold jewels across the back. Photos of you in it trended for three days straight, the hashtag #PropertyOfDani filling every platform.

Then came your own slip-ups. You had developed a habit of bolting straight to any fan holding a Daniela photocard (“instinct,” your members teased, though you never denied it.) But the real kicker was that one chaotic fan meet.

“SYRE! Can you give this to Dani for me???” a fan yelled, waving a bag over the crowd.

The sound of your girlfriend’s name made your neck snap instantly, your hand already reaching out before you even processed what you were doing.

“Thank you! I’ll make sure bubby gets this.”

The words left you so naturally, fatigue slurring your tone, that it took a second too long for your brain to catch up with your mouth. Your eyes widened, your jaw slackening just slightly as the crowd erupted. Bubby. The pet name you only ever used when your guard was down.

You prayed, begged, that no one had caught it on video. Naturally, it was clipped from three different angles, subtitled, slowed down, and uploaded within the hour. By the two-hour mark, “Bubby” was trending in ten countries.

The fallout led to a frantic emergency call with your PR team. You were forced to sit stiff in front of your laptop camera, nodding solemnly while rehearsing damage control statements while Dani lounged unbothered in your bed just out of frame, laughing so hard she nearly choked on popcorn. You threw her at least five sharp glares, which only made her laugh louder.

Not that she was any better. During one KATSEYE fan meet, her phone lit up mid-signing, the screen angled just enough for fans to catch a glimpse of her lockscreen: a photo of you pressing a kiss to her cheek, her own smile so bright it softened every edge of her. It was innocent, technically, but innocence didn’t stop the fandom from exploding.

After that, she stopped hiding altogether. The necklace you had given her? She wore it almost every day. Your photocard? She stuck it into the back of her phone case like it was nothing. And the polaroid you two had taken in a cramped photo booth one late night? That became her go-to bookmark, conveniently visible every time she carried her books to practice.

Her most iconic moment, though, was during KATSEYE’s tour performance of Gabriela. Mid-song, her eyes caught a fan’s sign in the barricade:

“Can you give your girlfriend to me? I knew her first.”

She broke into a grin, eyes narrowing mischievously. Still singing, she pointed at the sign, then at you, seated proudly with your members just a few feet away. The cameras caught the exact moment you burst into laughter, your head dropping into your hands as the crowd roared.

Dani didn’t miss a beat. She stepped closer to the edge of the stage, locked eyes with the fan, then with you, and sang her verse like it was a direct answer:

“Ella llegó conmigo y conmigo se va sus ojos son míos eso no va a cambiar me quiere a mí no importa la demás no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

With each “no,” she wagged her finger at the fan, her smile widening, her gaze flicking back to you. And when you doubled over laughing, Hana and Cami smacking your arm, the whole section of fans screaming, well… that was the night the ship stopped being a ship.

To fans, it wasn’t “are they dating?” anymore. 

It was simply: they are.

The moment was sealed during a concert, mid-chaos, when the stage turned into a playground. You and the rest of SIREN5 were roaming free, singing and goofing off with fans. Out of nowhere, Cami yanked you toward her side of the stage, jabbing a finger at a sign in the pit.

“Camyre hug please!!” it read, glittery letters shining under the lights.

You laughed, already bracing yourself when Cami launched at you like a koala. You caught her easily; one arm wrapped around her thighs, the other clutching your mic as you kept singing like nothing happened. The crowd lost it.

A few songs later, as you went for the climactic high note, disaster struck. You cracked halfway through, doubling over with a cough. Your members froze, concerned, until you looked up, face tomato-red, and confessed into your mic:

“I’m sorry, someone just flashed their tits at me. Holy shit.”

The arena exploded. Your mortification was projected onto the giant screens for everyone to see. And then the cameras cut, of course, to the VIP section, where KATSEYE sat. 

Dani’s expression was priceless: a half-playful pout masking something sharper. She frowned, glared, then smirked at the camera like she knew exactly what it was doing. Fans roared with laughter, but you felt the warning loud and clear.

Two strikes. And she never lets you off easy.

When the show ended, the final blow landed. Fans caught sight of you outside, carrying Dani koala-style to her red mustang, just like you’d carried Cami earlier while Manon trailed behind, laughing so hard she nearly dropped her phone as she filmed Dani’s exaggerated pout.

That night, no one asked questions anymore. The story had written itself.

III

Fans had started editing you into the infamous Boss Baby TikTok sound that said:“Every night at dinner… I’ll be there…” and honestly, it wasn’t unearned. Wherever Daniela went, you always seemed to appear, like a shadow that was a little too devoted, a little too obvious.

She went live? You’d mysteriously materialize in the background before vanishing like it was an accident, though everyone could see the corner of your smirk before you ducked out of frame. Every photo Dani posted? Somehow, your very recognizable scissor-tattooed hand was there, caught in the corner like a signature watermark, no matter how much she tried to crop it.

But the two biggest fan-favorite moments? Those were impossible to deny.

First was the Gap ad. KATSEYE had been dancing in coordinated denim, and then the camera cut wide, only for you to be there, casually part of the choreography, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And the internet lost its mind when the ad panned across you holding Dani’s leg steady as she nailed a standing split in her customized denim jeans. The way your hand slid a little too far down before the frame cut off was immediately slowed, zoomed, replayed, and dissected with captions like “we see you, SYRE” and “suspicious hand placement.”

Then came the TikTok. The official KATSEYE account posted an extended cut of your partner dance in Gabriela, and it was… lethal. Dani in her white tank top, joggers, and those ridiculous UGGs they all have. You beside her, in an oversized graphic tee that read: “lesbians eat what?” plastered with open-mouthed cats, paired with black joggers and white sneakers. The contrast should’ve been funny, but the moment you moved in sync, it was electric.

The chemistry bled through the screen, your sharp movements softening whenever she brushed against you, her grin slipping every time you spun her a little too close. Fans didn’t just watch, they devoured it. Comments flooded in by the thousands:

“both. at the same damn time.” “I love when hot people date hot people.” “the sexual tension is CRAZY, pls let them be.” “SYRE’s shirt choice… she knew what she was doing.”

The video looped endlessly on timelines, edits stacked on edits, captions screaming about how obvious you both were.

And then came the live that broke the internet.

It started harmlessly enough: Manon and Daniela crammed together in front of the phone, half-eating, half-bickering, while Eyekons filled the chat with emojis and rapid-fire questions. Dani was scrolling, laughing at the comments, when she suddenly grabbed her phone off-screen and started typing. A few minutes later, the door creaked open.

You stepped in, hands full with the snacks she’d “casually” requested, balancing them like a waiter trying not to drop anything. You made a quick wave to the camera, mumbling, “Hi, Eyekons,” before attempting a swift exit. Fans noticed the way your eyes darted at Dani like you were silently pleading, Don’t make this a thing.

Of course, she made it a thing.

Not even ten minutes later, you were tugged back into frame, and Manon immediately collapsed into maniacal laughter, clutching her stomach as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The chat went ballistic, rows of “???????” and “WHAT IS SYRE WEARING” flooding the screen faster than the comments could load.

Because this time, you weren’t in your usual oversized tees, baggy pants, or hoodies. No. 

Daniela had managed to stuff you into one of her own backless dresses: silky, black, and scandalously low in the dip. The camera caught just enough to show the sweep of your shoulders, the curve of your chest, and when you leaned forward to shush Manon, the tattoo no one had ever seen before: a small, delicate lipstick mark etched in ink across your collarbone. A lipstick mark in Dani’s exact shade.

The chat detonated.

“IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS” “LIPSTICK TATTOO??? COLLARBONE???” “SYRE IN A BACKLESS DRESS I AM ASCENDING” “DANIELA THIS IS YOUR FAULT”

Meanwhile, you were a mess of flushed cheeks and nervous laughter, fumbling to cover your chest with your hands while shooting Dani a glare that screamed, You’re dead later. Dani only leaned back in her chair, smirking at the chaos, pretending to “innocently” sip her drink while her eyes sparkled with victory.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you hissed, tugging at the fabric of the dress like it might magically grow two more inches.

“Way too much,” Manon agreed, her laughter bubbling over as she switched to a mocking British accent. 

“You look very pretty, innit?” She nearly choked on her noodles mid-cackle.

You lasted another thirty seconds in frame before storming off, muttering under your breath, “I hate you” which only made Dani laugh harder.

Later, in the privacy of your shared space, you didn’t get a verbal apology, at least not right away. What you did get were endless kisses pressed to your collarbone, soft hands tracing the tattoo that had outed you, and a whispered: 

“You looked beautiful, bubs. Let them talk.”

And for once, you couldn’t stay mad.

taglist: @awkwardtoafault, @cheerlanader, @kianthegirlkisser, @teenybean, @skittledemon66, @hydrardz, @hotluvlet, @skriri, @ssamachiii, @iamconfusedrightnow, @pizzachicken, @aelien1, @yjiminswallet, @kathleenmikaelson, @gay-panic-at-all-times, @wandaromamoff69, @amishreyac, @vinvinvin-who, @marvelwomenarehot0

[spiderbrat]

- ★ - Duct Tape - ★ -

★warnings★ usage of fuck, injuries, mild suggestiveness ★synopsis★ You're duct tape and you don't even know it. ★genre★ Fluff, mild mild angst, cuteness, gay chaotic sophia ★A/N★ very homo. first time writing for katseye and it was late please be nice to me ★word count★ 6.9k

The day had started off with a series of road bumps. Literally. 

While driving to work, not even on the clock yet, there had been a pothole the size of a small child. Your car's suspension was probably on its last leg the way it rattled then jerked, and then reluctantly groaning back into place. More significantly, the cup of coffee, which you had made with the last of your favourite coffee, that was sitting innocently in your hand whilst you drove and obnoxiously sang, had spilled. All over your shirt, like a personal ‘fuck you!’ to start the day. The only other shirt you had in the car was a gym shirt. And so you drive to the building, listening to Clean by Taylor Swift, ironically enough, because you most definitely weren’t. You swap the shirts, struggling in the parking lot as you wrangle a button up off and a tshirt on while slouching in a sedan so as to not be seen shirtless by any of your coworkers. Or worse, your boss. It was a t-shirt with various cartoon sharks drawn all over it. Sharks. With sunglasses. The epitome of professionalism, of course

However, no one really cared. Everyone at the company wore clothes they could run around in. Pantsuits didn’t survive half an hour. Blouses were sweat soaked in two hours. Linen button ups, like the one sitting sadly coffee-soaked in your car were the most professional you could get. 

Then two minutes after you stepped in shamefully in your shark shirt and dropped your bag in the corner, the issues started. Today’s entire schedule had been rescheduled. By an intern. An intern named Kevin who couldn’t use Google-fucking-maps and common sense to figure out if physio would make it in time - cause Dr. Lin was always at least a good 15 minutes late. On a good day. To schedule a 2:30 appointment, you’d tell him to come at 2:00. A fucking intern who didn’t realize it took more than 45 minutes to recuperate from rehearsal. It took 2 hours. Minimum. 

But the big boss had given Kevin his shot, and so everyone was just.. going with it. The girls were already grumbling by the time they got to rehearsal which was 20 minutes after when they normally ate breakfast. Which meant no breakfast. No coffee, no bagels, no yogurt bowls or toast. Just dancing and singing. 

You’re kneeling in front of Daniela, who looked like if you bumped into her, she’d stab you. Then smile. 

But she had a bad ankle, and you had a death wish. No one else was available to wrap her ankle because they’d all been scheduled to come in later by fucking Kevin, so you would.

“Hey” You mutter, bumping her shoulder gently as a peace greeting, “can you stretch the other leg?” you ask softly. Politely. Thinly veiled nerves as if the popstar wasn’t strong enough to maim you, but not before she shredded you with her words. 

“Please,” you add quickly.

She’s sitting on the floor one leg bent and stretching the other. Reluctantly, she shifts. Relief flows through your posture, visible to everyone. You unknowingly relax the muscles in your back from a stiff board to more of the shrimpy posture you were used to. 

Kneeling down, you take her foot. Quietly, she watches, scrutinizing your shirt as you gently wrap her ankle to support it. You can feel the stare of the other girls on your back. Judgemental. It's probably your shark shirt. Sharks were cute. Nevertheless you wrap her ankle tight. With stretch and give and support, all in the right places. Once you're done she gives you a small nod in acknowledgment. 

You move on to Megan and Yoonchae, who were leaning on each other instead of stretching. 

“Hi guys” You say gently. “How are we ,any sore spots, anything problematic?” you ask. Yoonchae stares at you, processing before shaking her head. Megan looks at you poutily before also shaking her head. It's not until you take two steps away and see Manon staring into the void that you decide this just won’t do. 

“Guys, are we in our mope era?” you ask, staring at all of them. “What's up?” you ask as if you didn’t already know.

Lara is the first to speak, “It's 7 AM,” she mutters laying flat next to Sophia. 

You turn to face her, feigning confusion, “and?” you prompt 

“Our schedule is fucked” Manon says bluntly. Sophia stays silent. You stare at them. “Okay” you mutter, deciding on the spot that fucking Kevin can go to hell. Mostly. Physio was still gonna come at 4:30. Mr. Lin wouldn’t change his schedule. 

“Wait here,” you instruct, staring at the group of miserable girls. Sophia sitting up next to Lara who was muttering floor time and trying to get Sophia to join her. Daniela stretching quietly with Manon, who was deathglaring the floor. And Megan and Yoonchae, trying to sleep on each other. And failing.

There were about ten minutes to save the rest of the staff from the girls, who, though they didn’t mean to do harm, still had everyone on edge.  This mission had two objectives; breakfast, and morale. 

To Kevin’s credit, he had enough instant coffee and tea bags to power a small apartment complex. To his discredit, he was stupid. So an imaginary glitch in his monitor distracted him from you grabbing a sneaky handful of assorted coffees and teas.

Then the lounge, where you stole the entire tea kettle and raided the cabinet. Nature Valley Oat bars, the crumbliest thing on earth. Bananas, which were 20 minutes from being too ripe, and Activia yogurts. Which were vanilla and good enough. 

Carefully, Daniela, Sophia, and Megan, get a masterpiece (messterpiece) of oat and yogurt bowls with banana. There, three done, three left.

Lara, Yoonchae, and Manon were harder though. None of them believed in sweet breakfast. Scouring the cabinets and the fridge, once more you find nothing. However, if you slide down to the kitchen, which wasn’t prepared for breakfast whatsoever (because of Kevin). However you’re able to sweet talk them into giving you some lox and a little container of cream cheese they had no use for. With that, and crackers, you make something else. Cream cheese and lox on crackers. They looked palatable. Plate. Season. Done. With two minutes to spare.

The girls are all leaning back, staring bewildered when they hear a few bumps from the closed door. 

“Fuck- mother- christ” you hiss as you hip check the door. They watch you stumble in with the grace of a baby giraffe, and somehow not drop anything.

You finally finagle the door open and rush to the table inside, dumping everything down. Then, with the efficiency of a drill sergeant, you’re handing out meals.  “Megan - yogurt, extra cream, one sugar.”

“Manon - crackers, no paprika, coffee.”

“Lara - heavy cream cheese, strong coffee.”

“Yoonchae - lox-heavy, coffee with more sugar than sense.”

“Daniela - banana-heavy yogurt, peppermint tea”

You rattle off handing each meal to the matching girl, going as far as to put a spoon in them and kneel down to put it in front of them. 

Sophia, who is staring at you, finally stops staring long enough to take her own bowl and the cup of english breakfast tea with a smile. 

“Sorry,” you add gently, kneeling to make sure that nothing spills whilst she adjusts to take the food from you. “I couldn’t find chamomile.” You say apologetically. Sophia stares at you like you hung the stars yourself. 

“Thank you” is all she says. 

The only thing holding today together was human duct tape: you. Ever since the Kevin  incident where he had been in charge of scheduling, there hadn’t been a day like this. But today Kevin had gotten another chance. Sophia was starting to wonder if he was a nepo baby. Otherwise, why the fuck hadn’t he been fired yet. 

Right now, you’re wrapping Daniela's ankle again and pretending you don’t see the way Sophia’s gaze lingers on you. Daniela had made it an unspoken ritual now. Every day, you’d walk in, drop your bag, get halfway to wherever you had to be and Daniela would intercept you. She’d hold out a roll of wrap expectantly, then tug your hand or sleeve or whatever to the practice room. On the first day, you were still intimidated enough that you dropped on the spot and were about to wrap it. That's when she rolled her eyes and pulled you up. She dragged  you to the practice room. Promptly sitting down in a chair and letting the trainer splutter and protest as she watched you wrap her ankle.

It's hard to hide the way your heart swells whenever she does it. She trusts you. The thought makes you want to do the embarrassing flail of a victory dance and simultaneously coo at her. 

You glance up at Daniela as you wrap her ankle, lips quirked in silent amusement as you see her laying back, eyes closed peacefully. Daniela rarely let her guard down near anyone. Sophia knew this quite well. As did you. Carefully, you attach the ends of the tape before tapping her ankle “all done”. She doesn’t acknowledge you. When you get up from kneeling she's quick, grabbing your wrist and looking up at you.  “Why don’t you ever call us by name?” She asks guardedly.

“I call you by name,” you say defensively. It was just a question to be fair. “like with the yogurt bowls an-”  “No,” she says emphatically. “Like to our faces,” she says, eyes narrow and staring at you with the same judgemental look you got the first day. 

“I- I mean. What am I supposed to call you guys? Like.. Ma’am? Is Ma’am good?” you ask bemusedly confused at what she’s getting at. 

“No,” she says, rolling her eyes. But that does get a chuckle out of her and a snort out of Megan who is now looking at you too. “No. Our names. Call me Dani,” she says simply.  “I mean I think ‘your highness’ is pretty funny. Or ooh! I could be a mafia boss and you could call me Miss Skie-” Megan starts, looking at you grinning widely before getting cut off by Sophia.  “Our names are fine” she says, smiling at you. Sophia doesn’t mention how you stumble on the way out, your aim failing you as you bump halfway into the doorway and halfway out the door cause you’re looking at her. When she’s sure no one is paying attention, her grin does get wider.

Megan, as you’ve come to discover, is dyslexic. That doesn’t stop her from much. However, there are days where she’s craving some stimulation. Days where videogames, movies, even the audiobooks she usually likes, don’t fill the void because it’s all too loud or uncomfortable or wrong. Scrolling feels like personal hell; moving hurts too much. She can read to herself. But it sucks. Even with the dyslexia friendly font, and the sizing turned up high on a kindle, it still takes too much brainpower. 

Now is one of those times. You’re just leaving, bag packed, keys and book from your break in hand, hoodie on to fight the winter cold, dropping off a water bottle Megan left downstairs. You go up into their ‘penthouse’ of sorts, knock and open the door. Just as you're about to put the bottle on a shelf and leave, you see Megan completely spaced out and fidgeting every few minutes, clearly uncomfortable with something. Sophia is under the same shared blanket with her halfheartedly patting her a few times in her own exhaustion. Daniela and Manon are quietly playing Jenga on the floor. Yoonchae is napping in a loveseat, and Lara is doomscrolling while laying on the carpet quite fond of floor time, all in the same living room. 

“Hi,” you say quickly scanning the room, “this is yours, right?” you say, gently kneeling next to Megan, who startles before nodding, taking and clutching her emotional support water bottle covered in stickers against her chest like it's a teddy bear. She smiles happily, humming when she realizes you’ve filled it to the top with fresh ice water. It's hard to fight the smile that comes to your lips from the sight. She looks so cute. Miserable, but cute nonetheless. “Thanks.” she mumbles, face still half buried in the pillow. As you stand up, she’s eye level with your hand and can barely see the book title. She quietly pokes the book, tilting it so she can see the title: The Hobbit.  Her lips quirk up, and she glances at you.

“The Hobbit? Are.. are you self identifying as a hobbit?” she asks, amused and trying to smile up at you, but unable to even fully laugh because that would mean moving and moving means…pain. 

“No,” you say, poking her cheek. Months of interaction meant that you were more comfortable with each other. Megan didn’t mind affection anyway. She was guarded, but less openly. “Didn’t they make you read this in school?” you ask, your mouth quicker than your mind. 

A millisecond later, when it catches up with you, Sophia is already looking at you. Tired but ready to defend Megan if you end up being a total ass, which she really, really hopes you aren’t.

“Wait, no, shut up, I never said that” you stutter out. Megan’s face, which had gone from happy, wary, to amused, was now sporting a big smile as she giggled. 

You look around the living room eyeing everyone. “Would it be.. intruding if I stayed?” you ask unsurely. “I mean I can always go, I don't want to take up your guys' me-time” you quickly over-explain. 

“Stay,” say Sophia and Megan at the same time. Megan looks up at you, adding a little “please” hopefully at the end. Sophia is back to watching her own movie on her phone, relaxed now that she deems you unable to cause emotional damage to Megan.

You sit down putting your bag and your own water bottle to the side, before opening the book. You sitting on the ground, brought you and Megan to eye level. As you flip through the pages of the well loved novel, there's a moment where you clear your throat before starting on the first page, making sure that she can see the pages if she wants to follow along. Then, gently, you start reading. Megan listens, melting further into the sofa (sopha- as she was half on top of Sophia).

“In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole… but a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.” You read softly, fixing your tone for each of the characters, doing voices and emotions as well as you can. 

One page in, Sophia’s put down her phone content to listen. Megan, is staring at you, reading, hearing and deciphering each word, her fidgeting slowly limited to rubbing the soft blanket beneath her fingertips as she listens. It makes your chest tighten a bit, the way she’s so invested in the novel, eyes flickering from your lips to the page to the ground as she processes. 

Audiobooks were good, thinks Megan. But this was better.  

It was unexpected. She didn’t think you’d read to her. But she wasn’t complaining. Next to her, Sophia was watching quietly as you read to Megan, watching the top of your head as you flipped pages. A smile was creeping up her lips as she watched. It was cute, the way you’d slowly pause to take a deep breath, or swallow before the next line. The way you’d make sure to explain if Megan was confused, or to lower your voice when Yoonchae stirred.

Sophia watches as Megan pokes at the pages for you to reread a portion, or how, while explaining a character, you put down the book momentarily and pull Megan’s glasses off as she struggles to get comfortable. The way you automatically tug the blankets back up on both of them when they slip. The way you hold them together.

Lara loved music. Through and through, it was the thing that could kill her, revive her, then murder her all over again. She had thousands of playlists, and it was rare to see her without some sort of music playing in the background, or something that she’s singing absentmindedly. 

The entire group had gotten used to it, Lara was like their own excerpt from a Bollywood movie. Stunning, snarky, and she came with background music.

Today was different though. It wasn’t another Kevin schedule, thankfully. No, instead, today the world had been out for Lara. Long meetings, the kitchen had run out of strawberries the day she wanted them, paperwork, too many voices and everything kept piling up. This meeting was a load of junk. Even you were here mandatorily, for something unnecessary. Just a bunch of self important suits droning on and on and on over something that truly, could've been an email. You, standing off to the side, can see everyone engaged, Sophia sitting at the table with her girls, quietly alongside the men as she taps her fingers to the choreo of the songs that were playing in the background. The people presenting weren’t.. bad. They had just eagerly started a playlist, assuming it’d be easier to pay attention to them, and it’d make them seem more hip.. More in the moment. In the ‘in crowd’. No one was paying attention. Lara was sitting across from her quietly rubbing her temples every few minutes. Poor thing.

You slide inconspicuously over to the remote on the TV. Nobody cared about you, honestly. If you weren’t a manager, and if you weren’t a popstar, you were there because they wanted to fill the room. With the remote innocently held behind your back, you quietly guide the volume lower and lower till it is at level two. Barely audible. Perfect.  Lara reopens her eyes and leans back catching your eye - but also Sophia's attention. She waits till the presenters are fumbling over a slide to mouth a thank you and facing the screen again defeatedly. It helped, but it didn’t really fix anything.

You rummage around your bag, finding a pair of noise canceling headphones, and when the people up front have their backs turned, you slip them over her ears. Her head snaps up startled, not expecting it and once again capturing Sophia’s attention. 

Sophia’s gaze softens as she watches you adjust them, putting Lara’s hair and somehow a beanie on her head so no one would see the chunky headphones in. She notices how you make sure you don’t tug at her hair even accidentally while trying to help her. The way you help her girl without permission, recognition, or needing to be asked.

You crouch next to Lara “almost done” You whisper encouragingly before sitting in the spot next to her with a notepad. Sophia watches as you write out each relevant detail from the meeting on the notepad, writing them for Lara to read. She watches Lara lean in closer slightly, and as you neatly write out each sentence she watches you slowly turn the meeting from Lara’s worst nightmare, to a tolerable oasis. You grab your phone when the meeting is still droning on ten minutes later and Lara looks like she might cry if she has to sit there for longer. 

“Oops!” you say, your voice strong as you straighten and look at the girls. “Sorry Sir, but it looks as if the girls are accidentally double booked. I know you care so, so much about their performances and how well they do, I mean look at the effort put into your slideshow. We appreciate it so much but they really have to go to MESC practice” you say. 

You grab your water bottle, phone, and notepad, and gesture for the girls to follow you, which they eagerly do. A chorus of bye’s outdoes the “what is mesc?” and  “Wait but!"s.

Finally, as you lead them back up to their penthouse dropping them there, Sophia stops you at the door. “What is mesc?” she asks, staring at you, then your lips, then you again. 

You just smirk, quite giddily proud of yourself. “Mandatory extreme self care” you manage to say without laughing. The echoes of laughter follow you as you go downstairs.

Manon had been grumpy all day. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was wrong. She refused to admit it, but she was sick, carrying around a box of kleenexes all day. Her voice is slightly deeper, hoarser. Thankfully recording was over. It was a miracle she was standing up straight because Sophia had a feeling she had a fever. 

Throughout the day, you had watched, as each of the girls,  multiple of the staff, nearly everyone tried to convince her to take medicine. 

Each attempt was met with either a “fuck off,” or a “no,” or a “please go away.” Each time, right after, she’d sneeze into a tissue from the box she was carrying around like a baby. She was muttering about being fine, while Sophia's death glared at her, and pointed out her red nose. And how, since the woman's skin is literally tan, she must have rubbed it raw by now, and medicine isn’t evil, she promises.

Finally, around six, just as you were packing up to leave, two staff members, all but tug you to the penthouse, frustration radiating all of them

“She’s sick she’s going to get more sick she won’t take her medicine, you’re the whisperer for all of them go convince her please.” they beg. 

Bemused you stumble in, Sophia quickly twisting to look at you. Wordlessly, you look at  very sick, very mopey, very miserable Manon sprawled out on the couch and immediately march off to the kitchen. You make tea. Enough for 7 people - the six of them and twice over for Manon. It was strong. Ginger, and cardamom, and cinnamon, plus a good spoon of sugar. Carefully you walk the full cup over to her. Manon opens her mouth before you even get there “I’m fi-” she starts. You kneel next to her. 

“Smell” you order. Confused, she inhales it. Then exhales. “Smells good?” you ask. She nods. You hand it to her and unsurely she takes a sip. “Tastes good?” you ask. She nods once more. 

“This will soothe your throat. Manon, even if you aren’t sick, then take the Nyquil. I agree, you aren’t sick this is a bunch of an over reaction but will it really hurt? I mean one pill, no one is saying the full dose, the full dose if you're not sick I understand, but one pill” you say holding it out alongside cough syrup. 

Sophia watched the entire time. The way you mirrored her sighs and tone of ‘this is ridiculous’. The way that you encouraged Manon’s complaining but at the same time draped another blanket over her shoulders. How you knew that Manon wasn’t a fan of tea, but you made sure that this one smelt good enough for her to try it. 

She watches you sweet talk the cough syrup into her hand to take the small sip immediately, afterwards feeding her a sip of the tea to wash away the taste. She watches the way you smile, standing up tucking Manon into the couch with a remote and firm instruction to rest.  

“You did so good” you murmur to Manon whilst patting her shoulder. “See, if it doesn’t help you don’t need to take it tomorrow” you promise with empty lies. If it didn’t help she was getting a dose everyday until it did. 

She stops you at the door again. “This is kinda becoming your thing” you say smiling at Sophia.  “Yeah - I - how did you do that?” she asked 

“What?” You say confused.  “Convince her to take the medicine. She almost threw something at me when I suggested it” Sophia says slightly skeptically. “What did you do?”

You try not to laugh. It was hard to describe what you did. “Um.. well you know how you convince small children to do things they don’t want to do. Like.. eat food they don’t like. You do it with bribery. That tea is bribery” you say glancing back to see Manon very intently watching friends while taking baby sips of the tea. 

“Oh” is all Sophia can come up with. “That's.. something” she says finally.

“It's just tea” you say softly “and a little bit of patience.”  “Still” she lets a ghost of a smile come to her lips “I appreciate it. Maybe teach me sometime?” She lets you reluctantly go with a nod and making you promise to show her how to make the tea. And to teach her how to bribe more effectively. 

“Isn’t that a little short?” Yoonchae says hesitantly, her voice slightly unsure. English was hard. Saying no felt like stepping on toes. Was that allowed? Could she say no? The stylist looks at her “I mean it covers everything. I think it’ll look good. Really pop under the lights. You know” she says, smiling. She meant no harm really. 

The rest of the girls were busy in the room trying on their own outfits. 

You pop in, juices, smoothies, water and more all for them in your arms. “Hey guys I got you the drinks” you mumble out from how your face was helping keep all of them in your arms. Sophia immediately - mid change with a tank top and short leather shorts on - comes to your rescue helping you put them down “thanks” she says brightly smiling sweetly at the hot glow on your cheeks and how instinctively you look away.

Your gaze settles on Yoonchae who is uncomfortably standing besides the stylist. 

“I mean it's not even my um. The, the normal style” Yoonchae says. Instinctively you walk over ready to instill confidence in her assuming that was the issue - not the mess of straps and leather. 

“Can I see” you ask gently. The stylist proudly holds up the outfit. A top that was cut short, with.. Lots and lots of strappy pieces that looked like they were begging to fall off. And a short leather skirt. Over all that was a small circus master red coat that barely covered anything. Yoonchae looked like she was scandalized looking at it. She wasn’t prudish - hell she was seventeen she knew that outfits were designed to make them look good. But she was seventeen. She didn’t want to look good like that on countless youtube videos performances - everything. 

“It's quite” you start trying to find the word “skimpy” you finish. Sophia, equally against it nods “what? No she’s not wearing that”

The stylist sighs frustrated. “It’s gonna look good under the stage lights. And to be honest, it’s covering everything important! Plus all you have to do is get used to it” She says now looking at Yoonchae who is standing behind you and Sophia. 

You start before Sophia can even open her mouth “What? No, I mean. Like I would understand more if it was for a dress or like a 20 second video but she is going to be performing in this, literally dancing and singing. If she’s uncomfortable just standing in it then thats a no. Even if she says i’m uncomfortable for a tiktok or something else filmed in an outfit then we gotta move on and find something else, I mean it isn’t a debate. Besides just like.. Look I doubt she can move freely in it and if that's the case” you say

“Then it certainly isn’t suitable for a performance. We can find another outfit that may even be better” Sophia finishes her voice stern.

Behind both of your backs Yoonchae is looking at Megan. The two chronically online girls are silently dying as Megan mouths ‘mama y papa? Mama y papa?” to Yoonchae. And Yoonchae just sees Megan being ridiculous so obviously she laughs

“Right” Sophia says, turning to face Yoonchae who is in shambles giggling. She looks tiredly back at the stylist. 

“Right” you say amused. You go back to the original task handing everyone a bottle of something to drink. 

You stay in the room picking up random shorts making Sophia scoff and bicker with you while Yoonchae giggled and Megan joked about her ‘parents fighting’.

Sophia had shown up this morning… different. Not sick. But slouchy. And she was never slouchy. Her hair was half up half down but almost like she did it cause she couldn’t choose what to do this morning. And her eyes, she wouldn’t look at you. I mean she would, you caught her staring every few seconds but she wouldn't meet your gaze. (gayz). Something was wrong. 

Throughout the day, she was a mess of contradictions. She was her usual competent self, hitting cues like a boss. Almost too good at them anytime she wasn’t thinking. Checking choreography effortlessly, helping the girls. But strangely enough whenever you gave into your little habit of watching her be a leader, or just watching her in general she’d falter. Stumble. Misstep. Mis-sing. 

“Uh—hey,” she’d say when you walked by, voice cracking slightly. “I—um—can you… uh…” She’d trail off, her hand awkwardly reaching out then tucking back in like nothing happened then reaching out again because that was weird then just fully aborting and facing the wall like it had something interesting to say. 

You, of course, noticed. You always noticed. And you, oh she hated you for it. You tried your fix its. The water bottle, the soft smiles and encouragement were everything. And you took the small, stuttering “thank you,” she gave you and the way she avoided direct eye contact yet peeked at you from the corner of her eyes as motivation. That something was wrong and you had to fix it, because no one deserved to have an all bad bad day. 

The other girls noticed too, though they didn’t know what was going on. They didn’t need to, they were quick to pounce with teasing whenever she flinched or stammered around you.

“Gosh, Sophia, you look like you’re about to fight a dragon,” Lara teased during a brief break, smirking.

“Yeah, are you hiding from them again?” Megan added, eyes gleaming, nudging Yoonchae who was snickering from behind her phone.

Sophia groaned, cheeks heating further. “I’m not hiding!” she protested weakly, but the stutter betrayed her. “I- look. Its hard” she whined “cause what if - Ugh” she says stomping away at Manon calling her a gay disaster.

By late afternoon, the chaos had finally settled enough for you to drop by the living room with a kettle of tea, blankets, and some last-minute treats for the girls. 

“Friday treats!”  as you called them “cause everyone did so good this week” 

Sophia was sitting on the couch, staring at the floor, arms wrapped around her knees. She looked exhausted, but not from work but from holding herself together all day.

She stares at the cup of tea you hand her like it has the meaning of life boiled into it. She squeaks slightly when you slide down to sit next to her.  “Mind if I sit?” you ask softly your own cup of tea grasped gently in your hand. “Yes,  mean no, I mean yes like, just sit down” she says tiredly slouching

You fight a smile confused by why she was falling apart today but slightly amused. And none the wiser to her feelings “Smooth. You sound like you could be doing better” you say. 

Daniela flopped into the armchair across from you two, grin curling like she’d been waiting for this all day. She sips her tea smiling into the cup “Maybe Sophia’s distracted,” she said lightly. “Got something… or someone… on her mind? Hmm? Soph? No comment?”

You blink at her, entirely innocent. “Distracted?” you say looking at Daniela and then Sophia who looks like she would rather be anywhere but here, and who is also staring at her tea like she wants to drown in it “are you distracted today? Wait, are you tired?” you ask concernedly, putting your mug down. “Are you getting sick?”

“Uh-huh,” Megan chimed in from where she was scrolling on her phone, not even glancing up as she smiled ready to cause chaos. “Sick of what, though? Or… who?”

Sophia nearly choked on her tea. “Megan.” Her voice was strangled and warning.

Sophia wants to cry with the way you tilt your head at her. Like a confused puppy. God she hates you. No she doesn’t. She really doesn’t. 

“That didn’t sound good,” you say at her voice. “Are you sick? I mean usually people get sluggish when they’re sick but you’ve been jumpy all day” you say

“Jumpy?” Lara’s brows shot up in mock shock. “That’s one word for it. I’d say more like… flustered. Completely wrecked.”

“Wrecked?” you laughed, still not catching on. “You guys are so dramatic. You just are off your game today.” You turned back to Sophia, your voice softening. “Is something up or” you trail off unsure.

Sophia wanted to implode. Manon looks at her teasingly “Yeah, definitely no game today, no game at all” Yoonchae chips in chirpily happy that she knows this expression. Megan taught it to her. “Lack of game. Zero” she says 

You look between the 6 of them like they are all aliens. “Are you guys.. Well?” finally you ask. You look back at Sophia and she swears she can’t take it with the way you’re looking at her like she hung the moon and the stars herself. You were still watching her with a gentle concern like you could help, like you would drop anything to help her. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay- nope” she decides jerkily, nearly sloshing tea onto her lap as she puts the mug down with more force than necessary. “I can’t. hang on. come here.”

Before you could answer, her hand wrapped around your wrist, warm and  stern despite the tremor in her grip. She hauled you up, somehow dragging you with her ignoring Daniela’s muffled laugh and Megan and Lara’s not-at-all-muffled chorus of, “Ooohhh!”

“Where are we—?” you started, but she was already pulling you down the hall, muttering something under her breath about “idiots” and “can’t do this in front of them.” and “making them run laps”

She shoved her bedroom door shut behind you with her hip, releasing your wrist only to pace a quick step, then spin on you.

“Am I in trouble” you ask unsurely.

“No!” Sophia says staring angrily “actually- actually you know what yes. Yes you are. You’re in trouble” she gets closer her pointer finger poking your shirt each time she finds a new point. “You” she growls “you are so insufferably nice. And you care oh my god you care so much and it’s so hard NOT to care about you cause those are my girls and you care about them which means you care about me too” she says jabbing your chest with a finger as you squeak and try to flatten yourself against the door. “And you, you hold us together effortlessly you’re like duct tape! you absolute- d- hm - HMM” she says angrily “you fucking - idiot!  You do that thing where you fix everyone's bad days” she says angrily now pacing as you stay flat against the door.  “Cause no one deserves to have an all bad, bad day” you say timidly against the wall.

“Exactly!” she says rounding on you again. “You don’t even make a big deal about it! You just do it like it costs you nothing. And that should be illegal” she says whipping around to face you, hair now open on her shoulders from how jerky her movements are. 

The mood lighting in the room was nice. “I-illegal” you say slowly. Like the jail or -” she doesn’t let you finish.

“Yes! Illegal. Do you know how hard it is to call cues, and count eights, and lead a group of 5 idiots like you’re not breaking my brain with the way you smile at us?” She asks

“Huh? Or the way that you sit there, gentle, concerned, dealing with all their teasing like you haven’t been the reason I'm falling over myself? Or even you when you’re confused and you tilt your head like a puppy- yes! Like that!” she says.

You open your mouth to respond but she's quicker 

“no!” she says pointing her finger an inch from your lips “shut up. Let me finish!”

 You manage timid okay and a nod. 

“And you defend the girls and me when things are rough, and you help me like we’re a team and you- you look at me like I put the stars up in the sky! And you know what the problem is? The problem- is- is that I” she gets close and personal lips pursed and accusatory finger in your face “the problem is that I don’t.. Hate it” she says finally exhaling and still pacing. 

You look at her now half fearful and half confused and a small pout on your lips. She stares at you watching your head slowly fall into that same 45 degree tilt. “So I’m.. in trouble because.. You like me?”

“Exactly! Wait! No. Not like - Cause- i’m” she sighs “I’m in love with you. Since the  day you walked in in that shark t-shirt” she says. “You fucking dumbass.” she says, stepping in front of you. Your back is still against the door and you look like you’re trying to phase through it. Angry Sophia is terrifying even if she’s angry cause she’s in love with you “well” she says expectantly. 

“Since the shark shirt” is all you can manage.

“Yes! You had only met us like twice before that and somehow you knew that I drink chamomile tea everyday! And you apologized! Cause they didn’t have it! What kind of person does that!” she says .

“I-i mean - me? Me kind of pe- no i mean. I do that” you say, stumbling over words. “Are you serious?” you finally say.

“Dead serious,” she says flatly, eyes still burning into you. She steps closer, tilting her head. “Do you want me to spell it out again, or whats up cause we can’t just- like”

“I like you to- like no love no wait we’re uhauling- I also have feelings that are romantically inclin- I like you!” you finally say

Sophia blinks at you, then lets out a sharp laugh — half disbelief, half relief. “You like me,” she repeats, pointing at you the accusatory finger now softly poking against your chest.

“Yes! I just—" you’re flailing now, hands unsure of where they belong—"you’ve been so weird today, and I thought you were sick, and then everyone was being weird and I was like ‘okay there’s something here I’m missing I guess I suck at society and socialization’ and, and now you’re yelling about shark shirts and chamomile tea and-”

She stares at you with a crinkle in her brow as she crosses her arms. “I wasn’t yelling.”

“You were yelling,” you defend automatically.

Her mouth quirks. “Okay, maybe yelling. But only because I didn’t want to just - whatever” she says looking at you

“Okay.” You blink at her. Then again. 

Sophia stares for a beat before groaning and dragging a hand down her face. “You’re impossible. Why is my type dumbass?”

“I’m processing,” you protest. “This is a lot! You basically abducted me, slammed a door in my face, accused me of being too nice, and then declared your undying love like it was gonna be the thing to stab me to death and my tea is cold!” you cry out. 

She looks at you incredulously before deciding to shut you up. effectively. It takes a second for you to process she's kissing you but you let her, kissing her back. The hand that was flat against the door now on the curve of her waist leaning in further. One of her hands rests gently on your jaw, simultaneously tilting you to face her but also not-so-gently tugging you closer. The other creeps up the large sweatshirt you're wearing - also with a small shark emblem on it - and puts her hand on your lower back, over your t-shirt, using it to guide you closer to her so she can kiss you harder.

Sophia pulls back minutes later looking at your dazed but pleased expression. Her lip gloss is smeared all over her lips. She takes the some from where it smeared on her lips and wipes it on your cheek. Before leaving a very obvious kiss mark there. Sophia watches you for a second as you look at her. When its been over a minute she realizes you're not recovering anytime soon.

Sophia rolls her eyes, hooks a finger into your sleeve, and tugs you back toward the living room without another word. You’re still recovering from the kiss (and also from surviving the verbal monsoon she unleashed), so you let her drag you along.

The second the two of you reappear, five sets of eyes snap toward you like they didn’t hear all of that. It takes exactly one second for Megan to choke on her cookie.

“Ohhh my god,” Lara says, drawing out every syllable like she’s savoring the moment. “We see who the top is. Not that I ever doubted you Soph.” She adds quickly

Daniela leans forward, squinting at you. “Is that—” She breaks off into laughter. “Yeah, that’s definitely Sophia’s lip combo.”

“I taught her that blend,” Manon says proudly, while Yoonchae whispers the ‘mama y papa’ trend causing Megan to start laughing all over again.

Megan’s grin is feral. “I’m just saying, if you were gonna disappear for twenty minutes, you could’ve at least tried to wipe your mouth.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “You’re all bad people. Bad bad people.”

Sophia, meanwhile, has reclaimed her tea, taken a sip, and is lounging back into the couch like nothing happened. “You can’t say that. They’re my girls” she says. When you look at her embarrassed she just smiles. “Don’t look at me,” she says mildly. “They’re just mad they’re not me.”

The room erupts, and you seriously consider faking needing MESC time of your own just to escape - except Sophia’s hand finds yours under the blanket she’s now pulled over both your laps, and suddenly, staying doesn’t feel so bad.

★a/n★ sophia really holding onto reader like its that baby tajin. thanks y'all I hope you liked it also it wasn't beta read its just me fam i'm tryin my best

[xyrescape]

i am getting so stressed out with all these happenings in my home country today. worst thing is—we aren’t even fighting another country, but just our own. everything is becoming a mess in the philippines especially since the flood control projects that added more fuel to the fire, these corrupt politicians have no shame at all. they’ve already gone far by not taking responsibility of their corrupt acts but shooting innocent people during the rally (children or not) to barging in university dorms and killing multiple students? this is pure stupidity. they’re also arresting many innocent filipinos who did nothing but speak their truth against this messed up government system. we will not be silenced. no one deserves to lay in their own blood just because they wanted the best for their country. dapat may managot, kung hindi ka galit dahil rito—bakit? this is our country we are talking about, being corrupted by these government people. if you aren’t phased by any of this, isa ka sa problema. mga kababayan ko, parang awa niyo nalang, vote wisely in the next election. para sa minamahal nating pilipinas ito. walang masama kung galit ka sa mali, mas masama kung hindi ka galit sa mali.

[iv-leafclover]

"A lot of people that could be my muse, you're the one that I will choose"

[iv-leafclover]

"I see the galaxies when I look in your eyes"

[writerswall26]

MAYBE THIS TIME

Sophia Laforteza

Synopsis: She's back home. And Y/N needs to pretend that everything's okay.

Words: 3k+

Warning: Yearning!

A/N: This was supposed to be a one-shot but I couldn't fit the idea. So I guess see you in part 2?

The sound of camera clicking, someone running to fix the hair of the model, another one shouting about a damn snack, the lights of the shutter almost blinding, but Y/N's focus was on her subject.

She's currently in the middle of a photoshoot for a magazine. One might wonder if she's the model, no, she's the professional photographer, dubbed as one of the best in the industry despite of her young age. She loves what she does.

"Alright, that is a wrap! Thank you so much, everyone!" Y/N shouted with a smile, wrapping up the photoshoot before walking to her model.

"Thank you so so much, I know you've been busy and your schedule is toxic but thank you for doing this." Y/N said gratefully.

"What are you talking about? I should be the one thanking you! I've been dying to work with you but you're all booked and busy." Julia, her friend and model, tapped her shoulder with a teasing smile.

The two of them talked for a little while before Julia bid her goodbye. It was a nice day, a wonderful day, even.

Until it wasn't.

Y/N was on her way back to her place when her phone screen popped. It was a message, from someone she didn't know would text her. It has been so long since then. She hid herself so well that she was sure none of the others would find her.

That's not the case.

In the message it read 'Tito Godfrey' with an arm flex emoji. It says, "She's here and she wants to meet you. What do I tell her?"

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Y/N has been inside her car for a good 30 minutes now. She's pulled up at the side of the road after she read the message. She was not sure what to do or what to say or if she should reply or just simply ignore. Her mind is racing 200 kpm and it's not helping that her phone won't stop buzzing. And so she did it, the one thing she hasn't done in so long.

She turned her phone off.

Everyone who knows Y/N knows that if she's out of reach, there's a high tendency that she's gonna be M.I.A for the next couple of weeks, months, or even years for that matter. She loves to shut down and go somewhere no one would find her. And right now, a certain cousin is scrambling to look for his keys to try and find her.

"Where the fuck is it?!" Dominic, Y/N's older cousin, shouted as he tried to look for his keys.

It has come to his attention that Y/N's supposed to be at a family dinner but she did not come and it's rare for her not to come. He was also informed that Y/N's phone is turned off so no one really knows where she is.

And one thing's for sure, Dominic is the only one who knows what's gonna happen next if he doesn't find his cousin right at this very moment.

So he drove, and drove, and went to places, and drove again but it's been hours. He was losing hope. Until something popped up in his mind. Some place somewhere far away from Manila that has been dubbed by Y/N as sacred. A place she goes to when everything gets heavy, Batangas.

Dominic drove 2 and a half hours to get there. And thankfully, she was there. Just sitting in one of the duyans that were hang on the trees. Just staring on the ground.

She looked lifeless.

Like the air was punched out of her system.

Like her heart stopped beating and this is just a cocoon of what she once was.

Dominic sighed. This was like 4 years ago. A flashback to the most heart breaking years of his life, watching his cousin's life fall apart.

"Hey, what are we doing here?" he asked, sitting in one of the chairs that were propped in front of the duyan.

Y/N flinched a little, looking at her cousin with wide eyes, her breath hitched thinking that it was someone else.

She stared, for a moment.

Dominic waited for her to speak, to lay it all out. Then it came, three words. And he knows this is going to be a hell of a week, maybe a month, maybe years.

"She's back home."

Dominic didn't quite understand it at first. Sophia has been in and out of the country since she got back a year ago with her group for their album promotion. She was here during the holidays, she was here during her birthday, heck she was even here this Valentine's day.

But then it hit him. Everytime Sophia's back home, Y/N would be out of the country for a photoshoot or vacation or just being out there.

So basically, this would be the first time that Sophia's back, and Y/N's home.

4 years. That's 4 years of not seeing each other. 4 years of no communication. 4 years of hiding.

And now, Y/N has no excuse. She couldn't run away, couldn't hide.

"Tito Godfrey just texted me. Said they have a charity event tomorrow. Said he wanted me to be present since I've always been there."

Dominic sighed, for the umpteenth time. "Are you going?"

Y/N lifted her head, looking at him with the deadest eye he's seen her give.

She nodded.

And just like that, Dominic knows she's going to be that person again.

The Greatest Pretender.

                ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Y/N was busy helping the family carry the boxes that they're going to distribute for the charity. It was a small event that Sophia has told her father before she came back. So here they are, hauling the boxes of goods that are going to be given to the people.

"Y/N anak, I'm so glad you could come. Your Tito Godfrey thought you'd be sitting this one down because you didn't answer his text last night. You know he was so sad?" Carla, Sophia's mom said, after Y/N put the last box on the truck they hired for today.

Y/N chuckled, hugging her tita Carla tightly despite the sweat. They were that comfortable.

"You know I can never say no to that husband of yours. He's too clingy and I fear he'd combust if I say no to him." Y/N joked after she pulled away from the hug.

Y/N joked around with the family despite her emotions. She's just that good. But one thing's for sure, she hasn't laid her eyes on Sophia since she came. She hasn't even given the Katseye leader a chance to get close to her. She'd always be doing something, talking to someone, running from here and there just so she could stay away.

And that did not go unnoticed by Sophia.

When they got the venue where the charity is going to be held, Y/N immediately went to work. She carried boxes, instructed the helpers, talked to organizers that the Lafortezas reached out to. She made herself busy with everything that she did not notice someone came.

Someone she knows would help her stay far away from the very person she's avoiding.

"I didn't know he was coming." She heard Basil from beside her, his eyebrows furrowed and his voice deeper than usual.

Y/N raised a brow, using her shirt as a fan.

"Why? Don't you want him here?" she chuckled, wiping her sweat from her forehead and the back of her neck.

"I don't want you feeling uncomfortable. You're my best friend." he said seriously, looking at her like he knows it. Like he knows everything.

Y/N chuckled again, shaking her head lightly.

"It's cool. I'm glad he's here though. Takes something out of my plate for once." She said and Basil knows exactly what she meant.

              ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The charity event was exhausting. Because not only did Y/N helped with giving the goods, she also played with the kids. She ran and jumped and played like there was no tomorrow. Carla was so worried she'd pass out from exhaustion. But that's not Y/N. She loves kids, she loves playing with them, telling stories and taking pictures. She would never be tired of kids.

The Lafortezas invited Y/N for dinner that night. She couldn't say no again. She could never say no especially when Oreo was tugging her sleeve like the little brother he is.

"At least let me go home first and change." she said, finally giving in to the younger guy.

"Kuya Basil! You should go with her in case she dips again!" Oreo told his older brother who just gave him a look.

"I won't dip, I promise. I don't have anything coming up today, so I promise I'll be at dinner." she said, going down to Oreo's level and lifting her pinky finger.

It's their thing. It was something she did with someone in the past and now, she's doing it with Oreo.

That sealed the deal for the youngest, he lifted his pinky and wrapped it with hers. He knows she would never break that promise. Because it's rare for her to do that.

Sophia watched the entire interaction with a soft gaze. She remembered that gesture, something they've done since they were kids, something Y/N introduced to her years ago.

"You okay?" Sophia heard from beside her, pulling her back to her senses. She almost forgot Leon was there.

She turned to him and smiled, nodding lightly.

"Thanks for coming today, it means a lot." she said sweetly, smiling at him.

He smiled back, ruffling her head lightly. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Unbeknownst to them, Y/N's watching them with a pained gaze. She did not mean to. One minute she was playing with Oreo, the next thing she was standing beside her big bike, staring at them, watching them as if it was a movie.

She could feel her heart crack with every interaction, with every smile Sophia gives him, every laugh, every playful slap, every time he touches her.

She thought she was over it. She mentally told herself it was years ago. That she's okay now, that she's moved past it. But she's not. Seeing as how Sophia's so comfortable with Leon, how her laugh bursts in the open with him. She knows she's done for.

She knows she wasn't over it. Not now, not tomorrow, and maybe not ever.

              ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

That night, Y/N made sure to stay far away from Sophia. Leon was there too so it helped. Sophia's attention was on him so she did not think Sophia would have the time to sneak away and talk to her.

That's where she was wrong.

Because right now, while she's busy have a smoke out the backyard, she heard a voice behind her. Something familiar, something sweet, something she's always known.

"You smoke?"

Y/N panicked a little, waving the smoke with her hand, pleading that it won't be enhaled by the person walking towards her.

When she turned around, she saw the look on Sophia's face, like recognizing. Her brows are furrowed, she looked confused and at the same time shocked.

Y/N cleared her throat, hiding the device on her pocket before looking up at the girl in front of her again.

"What are you doing here? Malamig." Y/N said, taking her jacket off and draping it on Sophia's shoulders, making sure she wasn't touching.

"You suddenly disappeared, I thought you went home."

That voice. That damn voice. Sweet, gentle. Y/N hated that voice. She used to love it. She used to long to hear it. But right now, it's breaking her. Making her want to dash off, far from here, far from Sophia.

Y/N smiled. Not the same smile Sophia knows. It's somethig different, like everything about Y/N now.

"Wouldn't go without saying goodbye. I'm not that type of person, you know me."

But Sophia shook her head, making Y/N furrow her brows.

"Before..." Sophia said, softly. "I know you before. Not this one though. I'm not familiar with her."

That stopped Y/N on her track. She knows Sophia's observant. That's why she was great at hiding things, cause she didn't want Sophia to see. But this time, she wondered if she slipped, because she's sure as hell she's her usual self when around people.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as she put her hands inside her pocket.

"You're over thinking it, Sophia. Relax." She tried but Sophia wasn't having it.

The leader was supposed to say something when they heard Leon calling for her. Y/N thanked all the Gods she could thank because she's not ready to for this.

"Oh, Y/N hey." he greeted, putting his arm around Sophia's shoulders.

Y/N nodded, giving him a smile.

"Take your girl inside. It's a bit chilly tonight."

Leon looked at Sophia who turned to him with a small smile.

"Come on, your parents are looking for you inside." he said and was about to pull Sophia with him but she stopped him.

"They're not looking for her?" she asked softly, looking up at Leon who furrowed his brows before glancing at Y/N who's just standing there, watching in amusement.

"They know I'm here. I excused myself." Y/N answered instead, shrugging.

"And they also know you smoke?" Sophia asked, turning to her with a look Y/N knows too well.

Y/N nodded, like it's supposed to be something Sophia knows. "That's why I'm here. Ang kapal naman ng mukha ko kung hihithit ako dito na hindi nila alam." [I would've been so shameful if I smoke here without them knowing.]

Sophia just stared. She doesn't know what to say. It's like she's looking at someone different. It's like everything changed and she knows change is inevitable but she hates it. This isn't the change she wants.

"Hey, what's going on here?" they heard, then there's Basil, walking towards them and stopping just beside Y/N who was thanking the heavens quietly.

"You know she smokes?" Sophia asked her brother with a hint of something. She's upset, Y/N knows it. Y/N could read Sophia to the core.

"Yes, so?" Basil answered, raising a brow.

Sophia opened her mouth to say something but Y/N jumped before this gets out of hand.

"Let it go, Sophia. Go inside. Leon, please." Y/N said, stepping in.

Leon nodded and was about to pull Sophia again but she did not let him. She just raised a hand to stop him. And for the love of all that's holy, he lets her.

"What's going on here?" Sophia asked, voice laced with something Y/N knew all too well.

She's mad.

So, before Y/N could stop herself, she walked towards Sophia and held her face, making the leader face her. She gave Sophia a smile, the kind of smile that's only reserved for Sophia, and Sophia alone.

"Let it go. Go inside first. Then we'll talk later." Y/N said softly.

Sophia's eyes soften at the way Y/N's gently caressing her cheek, at the way she's smiling at her. And so finally, she gave in.

Sophia nodded. "Okay." and lets Leon pull her inside with him.

When Y/N was sure both Leon and Sophia are inside, she finally let out a breath of relief. She's been holding that for a while, she thought she was going to die.

"What the hell was that?"

Y/N turned to Basil who shrugged. "It's weird that she's suddenly worried now when she just left you all those years ago. Now she wants to act all mad and upset that you've changed."

Y/N brushed a hand to her face. She's grateful to have Basil save her from being roasted by Sophia, and she's grateful for being his best friend but sometimes, she just wants to strangle him.

"That is your sister!" Y/N exclaimed, just in case Basil forget.

"Well yeah, that's my sister who's acting like she did not just leave her so called best friend without saying a word."

Y/N groaned in frustration. Sometimes, Y/N wished Basil would just let it go. Because clearly, he's the one who's more upset about Sophia leaving her with nothing.

"Dude, come on. You can't be that mad at her. Maybe she's got some sort of excuse why she did it. Let her breath."

"Yeah, keep making excuses for her. Let's go." Basil said before he went back inside.

Y/N sighed in defeat.

"This is going to be a long week."

              ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The talk Y/N told Sophia in fact, did not happen at all. She wasn't ready to talk about whatever with Sophia yet. And so, she made an excuse that night about Dominic needing her and fleed the scene without explanation.

And right now, she's being bombarded with texts from Sophia, dms and all that jizz. Sophia even went as far as calling her. SHE'S CALLED HER 10 TIMES TODAY AND IT'S NOT EVEN 12PM!

And so when her phone buzzed with another call from Sophia, Dominic stepped in and answered instead. Y/N tried to stop him but he gave her that look. The look that says, 'I'm older than you, respect.'

Y/N sighed, slumping down on the chair she was sitting on.

Dominic answered the phone with a soft hello.

"Yeah, it's Dominic, what's up?... Oh, that's too bad. We have plans today... Yeah, I'm sorry... I'll tell her you called... Bye." then he hung up.

"The hell was that?" Y/N asked, taking the phone from Dominic's hand.

"She's asking if you were busy. She was planning on inviting you to enchanted kingdom with her family."

Y/N nodded, silently thanking Dominic for making an excuse.

Just then, her phone buzzed. It was text. Not from Sophia, but from Basil.

[Tell Dominic I owe him one. Leon's with us again.]

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. Basil really has something against Leon.

"What?" Dominic asked softly.

"Basil said he owes you one. Leon's with them."

Dom chuckled as well. "Well damn, he's really taking his shot, huh?"

Y/N didn't answer, just drank her coffee and continued reading her book.

              ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

That night, Y/N was just chilling with herself when she suddenly heard the doorbell ring. She wasn't expecting someone. And if it's Dominic, he knows her code so he could just barge in anytime

So it was a suprise to her when she saw Sophia standing there. Smiling shyly. Wearing a hoodie that looked so familiar.

"Hey." She greeted, waving a hand cutely.

Y/N caught herself staring, before mentally slapping herself to get back to her senses.

"Hey. What are you doing here? Did you drive here?" Y/N asked, not in a rude manner, but in a shocked way.

Sophia shook her head. "Dad drove me here. I asked him."

Y/N nodded, opening the door wider so Sophia could come inside.

"Do you want anything? Drinks?" Y/N asked when Sophia sat down on the couch, she looked a bit nervous.

"Soda is fine." she answered, smiling shyly

Y/N nodded before she went to the fridge, pulling a can of soda and a beer for herself. She needs this.

"Here." she says, handing Sophia the canned soda before she sat on the single couch, opening the beer she's holding.

"What's up?" she finally asked after sipping.

She's so confused right now. Her heart is beating so hard, she was afraid it would jump out of her body. She's not expecting this.

But here it is.

Sophia played with the canned soda in her hands, seemingly out of words on why she's here.

Y/N watched, how she sits so straight, how she's fidgeting with the canned soda, how she couldn't seem to stay still.

"What's wrong?" Y/N asked again, softer this time.

Sophia looked up at her, eyes holding all the feelings she wants to say. And Y/N completely understood. Sophia didn't have to say anything.

Y/N sighed, standing up from where she was seated to sit beside Sophia but making sure there's enough space between them.

"What's happening? There's got to be a reason why you're here." Y/N tried again.

This time, it seemed Sophia finally found the courage to speak. She put the canned soda down on the coffee table and faced Y/N, her eyes soft.

She took a deep breath before speaking.

"I don't know." she started. "I don't know why I asked dad to bring me here. I don't know what I want. I just... I wanted to see you."

Y/N gave out a small smile at Sophia's confession.

"You could've just called me. I would've went to your place instead." Y/N said, smiling at Sophia who shook her head.

"You wouldn't. I know you wouldn't. You're saying you're gonna be there but you won't."

Y/N furrowed her brows. There's something going on here that she's not quite sure of yet.

"What do you mean?"

Sophia stared at her, looking, recognizing.

"You're different now. You're not the same person I know all those years ago. You seem so... distant. So far away." Sophia said, her voice shaking, like she wanted to cry but no tears would spill.

This is it, this is the talk. And Y/N isn't sure if she's ready. But there's no going back. She couldn't escape.

Y/N stared. She let the moment stay for a while. Then she let out a ridiculous laugh, something Sophia hasn't heard before. Something new.

Y/N stood up, walking a bit before she turned to Sophia with an amused look.

"You can't expect me to be same person 4 years ago, Sophia. Change is inevitable. You've changed too but you don't hear me saying anything about it." She say, not mad, not upset, just in disbelief.

Sophia finally stood up too, looking at Y/N with such gentleness despite the frustration she's feeling.

"What happened to you?" Sophia asked, tears brimming on the side of her eyes.

And there it is, the question Y/N's so afraid to be asked. Because she doesn't know if she could hold it in.

She stared at Sophia, trying to hold herself back but there's like a switch that clicked itself on and suddenly it's out.

"You don't get to ask. You left remember? Without a word. Not even a text saying you're flying somewhere." Y/N said, letting it out. She was not expecting that this conversation would happen here, right at this very moment.

Sophia was taken aback. But, she also understands where Y/N was coming from. Her gaze soften at Y/N's answer.

"Because I didn't think I could bring myself to leave if I see you there. Because I know that you're all it took for me to forget everything and stay."​

[writerswall26]

MY MONA LISA

Sophia Laforteza

Symposis: And she saw her again.

NOTE: IT'S BEEN SO LONG I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE ANYMORE!!!! This is like a warm up guys, I'm so sorry. Let me adjust again.

She saw the beginning of it all. She was there from the start, hidden in the back, in the shadows where she was completely unseen.

They say, sometimes the deepest love is felt quietly from afar, where words are few but the heart never stops watching. And that’s the truth about the love Y/N feels for a certain Katseye leader.

When she heard Sophia ranked 1st in the over-all ranking during the survival show Dream Academy, she was over joyed with pride. She could not believe that the girl she’d admired for so long has finally reached her dream of being a performer.

Y/N followed Katseye’s activity like a stalker. Every time there’s news about the group, she would drop everything she’s doing just to watch it. Every single live, interviews, performance, Y/N never missed a thing.

And when she learned the Katseye would be come to the Philippines, she made sure she got the ticket for the show.

She watched, from afar, like she always does. She admired Sophia like how she did when they were still in the same school. And she could not help but smile knowing she was there from the beginning.

[PRESENT TIME]

The crowd was getting crazy. Katseye is having a tailgate fan event in Los Angeles where Y/N is currently residing. She’s still in shock of what’s happening right now because she did not expect this. When her best friend, Trevor, told her that they should hang out, this was not what she expected.

She stood frozen at the far back, watching as the girl of her dreams enjoy her time interacting with their fans. Her eyes could not seem to look at anyone else— just her, just Sophia.

Trevor was going crazy beside her but she didn’t care. She can’t seem to take her eyes off Sophia. That’s the power the Katseye leader has on her. It’s like she’s been pulled in a trance.

Then it happened.

The moment she was sure she’s going to die.

During one the final songs, before the girls bid goodbye, Sophia’s eyes landed on her.

And then the world stopped. There’s a long pause on Sophia’s end. Like, seeing a ghost from the past. She went still, frozen, like how Y/N was the entire time. Until she was slightly nudged by Yoonchae.

Y/N’s breath was caught in her throat. The panic starting to rise. She was not expecting that to happen. She was so her place was hidden, hard to be seen from where the group stood. But she was wrong. Because Sophia saw her. She knew it.

“fuck!” she muttered softly as she pulled down her snapback to her face, making sure half of it was hidden.

She was not planning to be seen. She planned to just stay a little then leave. But right at this very moment, she couldn’t seem move. It’s like something’s weighing her down. Like a glue that stuck to her foot on the ground, making it hard to even step a foot.

Just then, Trevor started going crazy, like crazy!

“Oh my gosh! She’s walking over!” she heard him say while shaking her.

That got Y/N to look up.

And just like that, she was sure she was going to die on the spot. Because right now, she could see Sophia walking over to her, her eyes fixated on hers.

“shit.” Y/N muttered again before she felt herself moving backwards. But before she could even flee, Sophia’s already right there, in front of her, eyes warm and gentle.

The world seemed to stop at that exact moment. It’s like there’s just the two of them there. No speaker blasting a song, no crowd going crazy— just them.

“You’re here.” Sophia spoke first, a sound barely above whisper but clear as day in Y/N ears.

“Hi.”

That’s it, that’s the only thing she said. And before they know it, the crowd’s finally hovering over the leader, asking for photos and videos. There was no time to speak, to asked what’s up.

Y/N stood there, watching. That’s the world she never be in. Not in this moment, not in this life time.

And so she left, with a heavy heart, but fulfilled enough to know that she was there, from the beginning, before everything started.

[misanaytion]

whatever you say angel face

[rodentcarnival]

Stop trying to save her! | Sophia Laforteza

summary: everyone knows of the tale of princess sophia trapped in the tower in the woods, guarded by a fierce dragon. what they don't know is that the princess is your girlfriend and you're just trying to get everyone to stop trying to “save” her. 

warnings: mentions of death, blood, and injuries 

tags: princess!sophia x dragon!reader, tiny bit of angst, fluff

WC: 4.6k 

note: i plan on stock piling a lot of completed fics because i gotta lock in for school soon, if ya got any requests now is the best time to send them! for those that sent requests earlier i’m working on them rn pls have mercy and give me a bit of time :> 

on the outskirts of the walled kingdom was a pointed tower covered in moss, from afar it looked like an abandoned building as it was surrounded by forests that stretched on for miles. 

but to all the citizens they knew it as the prison that held the princess, the dungeon in which a fierce and powerful dragon protects with its life. over the years, many knights claiming to be the “chosen one” have gone to defeat the beast, but none have returned successful. 

“fuck it’s closing in on us, watch out!” a knight covered in iron armour shouted to his companions before ducking behind a tree, narrowly avoiding a blast of fire. 

the ground shook as claws dug into the dirt, causing small cracks throughout the floor. the dragon stalked towards the “brave” knights, wings unfolding in one sharp motion. 

“hold steady!” their captain barked, though his sword hand trembled. “it can’t be invincible-”

he didn’t get to finish before you blasted him, sparks igniting his shield and forcing him back. the smell of scorched metal and charred leather filled the air. yummy maybe you’ll be back to snack on that metal later. 

one knight lunged, managing to slice you pretty good in the side of your leg. you growled low in your throat, smoke spilling out of your nostrils, before swinging your tail at him. the knight flew into a tree with a sickening crack, leaving his helmet broken. 

panic rippled through the group. another tried to flank you, but you turned around swiping at them. blood smeared the grass and the faint scent of iron clung to the air. you’d never kill any of them, just maim or seriously injure them. sophia would kill you if you killed, and you weren’t trying to get killed anytime soon. 

“retreat!” someone finally yelled. “it’s not a dragon but a demon!”

and just like that, the knights scrambled, dragging their injured back toward the kingdom walls. their footsteps faded until the forest was quiet except for the occasional crackle of fire from the trees. 

with a huff you shook your head, ash falling from your snout. 

“idiots,” you thought, smoke coming out of your nose as you happily walked back to the tower.

you’d think after your countless threats of gobbling up their whole family, or knocking down the weak walls they use as “protection” with a single blast, they wouldn’t come anymore but it only seemed to make them want to kill you even more.

shifting back into your humanoid self with a swaying black tail, some wings on your back, and little dragon ears on top, you skipped your way back into the tower.

there was a trail of blood that followed you as your leg was slashed by a sword during the fight, leaving your skipping to look more like hobbling than anything. it’s not like it hurt either, especially because you had the best doctor waiting at home for you.

sure you were upset about having to be portrayed as the “scary dragon” again, but there was one thing that never failed to cheer you up.

stepping into the tower you shout with your arms open, “pia they hurt me!” making sure to shed some crocodile tears to make it seem a bit worse than it really was.

and there she was, your beautiful girlfriend, running towards you with a face full of concern. maybe it was mean that you were exaggerating the injury but you just adored it when she coddled you.

“are you okay? where does it hurt mahal?” sophia said while checking you from head to toe, eyes full of worry.

“i’m okay haha i just wanted to see your reaction!” you said 

the princess shoved your shoulder playfully, though she smiled despite her worry. “hey! don’t scare me like that.”

but then her eyes caught the cut on your leg, the one you hadn’t been able to fully hide from her. her smile dropped. “sit down.”

you froze under and plopped onto the nearest chair, tail swishing nervously behind you. sophia disappeared into the corner and came back with a bandage roll, kneeling down with all the seriousness of an actual doctor.

“i’m fine really,” you grumbled, though your tail betrayed you, curling around her wrist like it couldn’t help but seek her touch. “they just keep saying they’re gonna save you,” your ears pinned back as you scowled, “like i’d ever let them take you away.”

sophia’s hands paused briefly on your leg before she gave a soft laugh. “oh no scary~, the big bad dragon doesn’t want her princess stolen.”

“exactly!” you huffed, puffing your cheeks out. your tail swished angrily, smacking the floor a couple times. but when she leaned forward to press a kiss to your leg after wrapping the bandage, you melted instantly, ears flicking up and tail wagging like a dog.

fine, maybe you weren’t the big bad scary dragon you pretended to be. the kingdom could headcannon you all they wanted to but to sophia? you were nothing more but a softie with a big heart who’d do anything for her. 

once sophia was satisfied with her work and went to tidy up the supplies, you muttered something about needing the washroom and slipped away.

inside, you closed the door and faced the mirror on the wall.

“okay,” you whispered, straightening your back, “scary. you’re supposed to be scary.”

you widened your eyes, baring your teeth in what you hoped was a menacing snarl. you flared your nostrils, added a puff of smoke, and even curled your fingers up for emphasis.

…then you dropped the act with a groan, ears going limp. 

“ugh sophia’s right. this isn’t scary at all.” you grumbled while trying to think of what being “scary” looked like. 

you tried again, scrunching your nose, pulling your lips back farther, practicing different kinds of roars and expressions. eventually you managed one that almost looked cool, until you spotted your own sharp canines in the glass.

you paused.

“… okay,” you admitted with a little grin. “the teeth are kind of intimidating.”

you bared them again, testing out a few angles before saying, “rawr?”

from the other side of the door came sophia’s muffled laugh. “i can hear you, you know.”

your ears shot up as your face flushed bright red, “no you can’t! stop spying on me!” you shouted through the door. 

day by day there was always a new challenger who thought they could kill you or capture you. the kingdom had placed a bounty on your head so large it made even the most pussy of knights try to challenge you.

you lost count of how many times you’d had to roar at them until their armour rattled off. sometimes you scared them away, sometimes you sent them limping home. it was routine by now. once a group of knights tried to trap you in a fishing net before you scorched their pants off. you thought it was super fun.

sophia on the other hand was getting sick of it.

you were halfway through lighting a knight’s cape on fire when her voice rang out from the tower window.

“guys! i’m not trapped please stop coming here!”

the knight froze, looking up in confusion as you also paused to listen. sophia leaned further out with her arms waving dramatically to gather attention from more knights. 

“tell my parents i’ll come back when they stop overreacting! i choose to be here, i'm not kidnapped!”

the knights blinked once, twice, then slowly backed away muttering, “what the hell, sorry then dragon thing i guess…” before disappearing into the woods.

with sophia’s shouting and you burning everything within a couple miles, eventually the flood of warriors trickled down to nothing. 

now because the tower was no longer being used as a battle ground, sophia was able to invite her friends over. 

you standing behind sophia as she welcomed her friends in, when all of a sudden megan and lara immediately made a beeline for you.

“woahhhh,” megan gasped at your tail, circling you like you were prey. “so cool~  can i touch it?”

"don't," you warned flatly, swishing your tail away only for lara to dart forward and grab it.

“look it’s like scaly” she squealed, dragging your tail towards yoonchae, not noticing how you were attached to it and stumbling behind her

“hey!” you yanked your tail back, ears pinned back.

but they only laughed, poking at your ears next.

“they move when i poke them!” lara giggled.

“of course they move, why wouldn’t they if someone is poking at them!” you barked running back to stand behind sophia. 

megan tilted her head. “can you breathe fire?”

you growled. “of course i can breathe fire. what do you think i am? a poser?”

“prove it.”

“i can’t!”

“why?”

“sophia said no fire in the house…” you murmured shyly as you turned your head away from the two, cheeks going pink. 

in the corner, yoonchae sat on the couch looking at you with sharp eyes. the look she gave you every time your tail twitched made you feel like maybe you should’ve left the tower for a bit while they visited. but sophia insisted on you meeting them and who are you to refuse her. 

as for manon and dani, they were less subtle.

“she must really have taken a liking to our princess,” manon teased sophia, leaning against her shoulder. “she gets all shy whenever she talks about you.”

“so cute,” dani added, grin wide. “our princess bagged a big “scary” dragon.”

“i am scary! ask the countless knights i scared shitless!” you sputtered, tail smacking the floor so hard the wood creaked. “shut up both of you!”

“well if you are that big scary dragon they say you are then we might have to take sophia back to the kingdom where its safe” manon said,putting an arm around sophia. 

you instantly wrapped your tail around sophia’s waist and bared your teeth, “no! she only leaves when she wants to, and definitely not in your slimy hands!” 

“relax guard dog, she’s just kidding,” yoonchae said, rolling her eyes at you both. 

eventually, sophia’s friends started visiting the tower often enough that you found yourself opening up to them, whether you wanted to or not.

it all started one afternoon when you caught sight of yoonchae being chased through the woods by a group of older kids. they were laughing, mocking her, tugging at her bag as she tried to run. 

before you even thought about it, you dropped from the sky, claws digging into the dirt as your roar tore through the trees. the sound shook the branches overhead, fire spilling from your jaws and searing the ground in front of the bullies. they shrieked before stumbling over themselves to escape, leaving yoonchae alone with you. 

you flicked your tail, shifting back into your humanoid form. “man whatever happened to friendship is magic.” 

then you glanced down at her, awkward suddenly under her wide eyed stare. “uh… you good?”

yoonchae gave the tiniest nod, clutching her bag tighter.

“cool,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “don’t tell sophia i did that, she’d kill me for scaring children.”

she didn’t answer, but the next time she came to the tower, she sat beside you. 

megan and lara in the meanwhile, had taken to invading your personal space like it was a sport. at first, you swatted them away, ears pinned back every time their fingers got too close.

but the more they visited, the more you relaxed. lara started weaving little flowers into your tail when you weren’t paying attention. megan poked your ears to see how they twitched in response, and you only growled halfheartedly before giving up.

“you’re lucky i don’t bite,” you grumbled once, but your tail betrayed you by curling around their legs in lazy contentment.

they just laughed.

as for manon and dani, they never stopped teasing.

“you’re really scary,” dani said with a grin, watching as sophia gently scratched behind your ear. “look at her. terrifying.”

“the way she wags her tail when sophia calls her cute? horrifying,” manon added with mock horror.

you tried to glare, but sophia’s fingers ran your ears flick happily. “shut up,” you mumbled, cheeks burning.

eventually, you got used to the embarrassment. 

“looking awfully cozy over there y/n.” dani teased. 

“yes i am,” you said proudly, leaning against sophia and wrapping your tail snugly around her waist. 

sophia laughed so hard she nearly fell off her chair, while you sat there grinning sharp and smug for once. 

it was all going great, finally some peace and quiet. 

until they got you.

you weren’t in your dragon form, just your human one with your ears flicking and tail swishing as you picked flowers for sophia outside the tower. 

after weeks of no attackers, you were foolish and let your guard down. the ambush came quick as nets weighted with iron, enchanted chains, and a muzzle slammed over your face before you could even blast them.

you thrashed, claws tearing up the ground, but there were too many.

“stop! stop!” sophia’s voice pierced through noise, desperate and furious. she rushed down from the tower, shoving past knights twice her size, her fists hitting against their armour. “let her go! let her go!”

“hold the princess back, clearly she is not in the right state of mind” the captain ordered.

sophia kicked and screamed, clawing at their arms as the king and queen themselves approached you. her mother’s eyes were cold, her father’s jaw set firm as he looked down at your chained form.

you tried to roar, to burn them all, to grab sophia and run, but the muzzle cut off your flames, the chains sapped your strength.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. 

you strained so hard your muscles burned, smoke bleeding out of your nose as you thrashed against them.

“she’s not dangerous!” sophia screamed, tears spilling as she fought against the knights restraining her. “look at her! she never hurt me, not once! you’re all liars! i hate you!”

the king’s expression faltered, but he didn’t move. “it’s for the best.”

the queen’s voice was softer, almost mournful. “we’re protecting you.”

“protecting me?” sophia’s voice broke, “from the only person who’s ever loved me?”

you were dragged away as she collapsed against the ground, reaching for you as her fingers scraped the floor. 

the jail cell stank of blood and rust. yours mostly. the ceilings covered in some mysterious black gunk that you could only hope was mold of some sort. 

they beat you every time you stirred, every time you tried to shift, every time you did anything other than breathe. now you could barely lift your head, your body a mess of bruises and split skin.

when sophia’s friends snuck in, you managed to force a smile, happy to see people that didn’t hit you for a change. 

lara crouched low, reaching out. “hey dragon girl. you’ll be okay.”

she brushed a finger against your ear, but it stayed limp and unmoving. 

her smile faltered. “…you didn’t move it.”

megan’s eyes widened, her voice small. “you always move them.”

you tried to force a twitch or any type of movement, just for them. just to ease their worries, but your body refused.

yoonchae pressed her lips together, looking away so you wouldn’t see her cry as dani pulled her into a hug to shield her from seeing you in that state. manon reached through the bars to squeeze your hand, her usual teasing nowhere to be found.

“listen,” dani said finally, “we’ll get you out. we swear it, just hold on a little longer please. for her.”

you coughed weakly, a puff of smoke leaking from your nose. you wanted to believe them, but your body felt like it was already giving up.

“they’re…” manon hesitated before continuing. “they’re forcing sophia to marry some prince. they won’t let her see you.”

that broke you more than any of the beatings. 

sophia refused to speak to her parents. she locked herself in her chambers, door slammed tight, shouting at every guard who tried to coax her out.

“open this door!” a guard would shout, rattling the handle. sophia would yell back, “i won’t! leave me alone! if you want me to leave then let me see my y/n!”

every knock only served as a reminder that she was trapped, trapped in a castle that thought it knew what was best for her. she sat on the edge of her bed, knees up to her chest, hair falling into her face as she refused to even look at the door.

her meals went untouched. servants placed trays outside the door and each time, sophia ignored them. bread went stale, soup cooled, and fruit rotted but she didn’t care. she didn’t care about food, didn’t care about comfort, didn’t care about anything but you.

outside the door, the king and queen lingered. it had been almost a week since their daughter had eaten anything. they had begun pacing the hall for hours, waiting for her to relent.

“she hasn’t eaten in days,” the queen whispered, voice trembling. “she’s fading before our eyes.”

“she’s still alive,” the king said but his voice lacked confidence. he pressed a hand to the door, listening to the muffled sobs and angry mutters inside.

“alive yes,” the queen murmured. “but she isn’t living. she won’t even speak to us. all she does is think of her dragon. honey, maybe we were wrong.”

the king said nothing, outside the door he could hear her soft sobs between sophia’s shouts. “i won’t speak to you! i don’t want to see you! you’ve taken her from me!”

the queen’s shoulders shook. “she was never in danger,” she whispered, eyes fixed on the wooden door. “you know what we must do.”

and the king could only nod, staring down at the ground, knowing she was right.

the wedding was called off, sophia was almost able to form a smile at the news, but she wasn’t able to. not until she had you safe in her arms again. her parents had promised her your release soon and after a very long lecture towards her parents, she had gone back on partial speaking terms with them. 

the prince, on the other hand, took the news horribly. he had heard whispers of the king and queen folding under the pressure of their daughter, and how the marriage had been called off. his pride was hurt, he was supposed to wear the crown, not some ugly dragon. 

so with his blood pumping with anger, it wasn’t a problem sneaking into the dungeons the day before your supposed release date. 

he spat next to you, your chin on the floor as your eyes barely opened. not recognizing the person, you let out a small growl. maybe he was here to get you to convince sophia to marry him. 

“you’re supposed to be a monster. a terrifying dragon. but look at you now, pathetic,” he sneered. from his back pocket he unseethed a small dagger, its edge shining with some dangerous magic. 

“but then again…” his smirk widened as he plunged the dagger into your side, right between the ribs. “maybe i can fix that.” 

pain shot through you, but it didn’t feel like anything you had experienced before. 

each time a knight challenged you, there would be rare occasions where their blades would impale you, but this felt nothing like that. it was wrong, worming its way further into your blood stream. 

and then something changed. 

your vision flooded with red and you felt like your body was on fire. you were shifting against your will, your scales ripping through the cuffs they had placed on you as your wings unfurled. 

the prince staggered back, eyes wide, before chuckling to himself. “there you go, that’s the monster i was expecting, and that's the monster you’re gonna show everyone.” 

you roared, the sound shaking the entire castle, fire erupting wild and furious.

for the first time, there was no thought of sophia, it was as if your mind had drawn a blank.

they wanted a monster.

so you gave them one.

sophia thought that when she’d wake up the next day that everything would be set right again. that you would be freed from the cell, the kingdom would get rid of all the nasty rumours that portrayed you as evil or dangerous, and that finally you both would be able to live a quiet peaceful life. 

but the next day never came. 

instead sophia was woken up by the screams and pleads from knights, begging for their lives. she bolted out of her room and ran down the hallway only to be met with a gaping hole in the building. 

looking outside she saw mass destruction, the various buildings reduced to ashes, and in the center of all the flames stood you. 

you were reduced to nothing but a “monster”, your eyes refusing to focus on anything, making everything seem like a scary blur you had to incinerate. 

it was you. 

but not the you she remembered. 

“y/n” sophia whispered, about to head off in your direction before a pair of arms held her back. 

her parents had held her in place, preventing her from running and getting herself injured. 

“you can’t go sophia it’s too dangerous. something has possessed the dragon!” her mother cried. 

her father cupped her cheeks, “please seek shelter somewhere, i can’t bare losing you.” 

sophia struggled in their grip, “she’s not in her right mind! i have to go see her-”

a mocking laugh cut through the castle. 

the prince stepped from the smoke, a smirk on his lips as he approached the family. “and to think this was the monster you were going to release in just a few short hours.” 

sophia’s fist hit the prince in the nose, a satisfying crack echoing out. 

“what did you do to her?” she demanded, readying her fist for another hit. 

the prince only laughed as he held his nose, “all I did was reveal her true colours.”

sophia could only turn to her parents, her eyes wide, pleading. “please, let me go to her, she’ll listen to me. i know she will.”

her father let go of her, and with a growl of his own he hit the prince one more time. it seemed that the prince was serving as a good punching bag in times of stress. 

“go, but please come back safe.” he said before pulling her in for a hug, and the striking the prince one more time because why not? 

as you continued your rampage, you blasted a building near yoonchae. the girl screaming in fear, “stop y/n please!” for a moment, just a fraction of a second, your movements faltered, your eyes seemed to do you a favour just this once, and focused themselves. 

for some reason you stopped, there was some protective instinct that disliked how she was scared. clearly something was making her uncomfortable and there was only one solution in your magic induced haze. 

burn everything else so that nothing harms her. 

easy! 

you turned around to continue burning things, you can spare this one corner to make sure that girl was okay. 

before you could blast another building, a voice rang out. 

“y/n! stop this right now!”

you turned towards the direction only to be met with sophia, your pupils blown wide. this girl was special to you. not in the way the previous one was but in a more important way. now if only your brain could catch up and tell you why. 

you stalked closer, putting your head a bit lower so you could smell her. for some reason just being near her made you relax. 

you bared your teeth, seeing if she’ll run away screaming. maybe beg for her life? 

but she stood there as if she was shaming you. 

“you better stop throwing this little temper tantrum! you hurt a lot of people.” she scolded. 

for some reason you felt guilty, your ears going limp as you felt ashamed of your actions.

she walked closer, which only caused you to panic and step backwards. something flickered in your eyes, you knew you would be safe but your body didn’t listen. not yet at least. 

“i know you’re hurting. i know they hurt you. but you aren’t a monster.” her voice was soft, comforting in a way only she knew how to make you. 

something flickered in your eyes and all of a sudden the world snapped back, turning yourself back into the half human version that was much more approachable. 

your vision cleared and all you could see was the destruction you caused. the piles of ash that surrounded your little girlfriend as she came even closer towards you. 

“pia…” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. “i- i didn’t mean to-” 

she smiled, pulling you in for a hug. “i know mahal, it’s not your fault.” 

at the sight of you two embracing, the citizens started surrounding you, believing that the rampage ended. happy to see you both back together. 

at the sight of the crowd you couldn’t help but notice and snarl, “stay back! i won’t let you take her away again!” you shouted. 

sophia chuckled, cupping your cheeks so you’d look at her. “it’s okay, everyone’s nice. my dad approves of you now, you know? don’t go messing that up so quickly.” 

you flushed in embarrassment, maybe not the best first impression towards the general public.

“you have a lot of catching up to do.” she whispered before pulling you in for a kiss. 

—

the weeks that followed the rampage were interesting to say the least. 

for starters the citizens started welcoming you for once, waving their hands in hello instead of waving with pitchforks or swords. 

because of all the destruction you caused, you were forced to help rebuild everything. luckily with your strength and size, you were able to rebuild most of the buildings within 2 weeks. becoming the local bob the builder. 

sophia made sure that the prince was given the harshest punishment, having him dragged out in chains and humiliated in front of the whole kingdom. 

you sat on a patch of grass watching the fireworks with sophia. the kingdom was holding a celebration, happy that they were safe again. 

since the incident you’ve been sulking, constantly apologising to everyone even though it wasn’t your fault. your tail swished irritable against the grass, whacking it a couple of times before sophia leaned against your shoulder. 

“so…” she teased, a mischievous look in her eye, “how did you like your little temper tantrum?” 

you could only groan and cover your face with your hands. “i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to.” 

she giggled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “you looked scary though. a very big bad dragon.” 

your ears perked up and your tail started wagging. sophia never thought you looked scary, maybe there was a positive to this whole thing after all. 

“really? did you think i was scary? i was cool right?” you said, waiting for an answer. 

“absolutely terrifying,” she teased while laughing. 

fine. maybe you’d never be seen as the big scary monster you wanted to be seen as. 

but at least you’ll always be sophia’s, and that was more than enough. 

[babytajin]

siglo

— a daniela avanzini x reader fic (vintage era au)

chapter 1 – makaluma

wherein: old hearts found each other once upon a time. could they find each other again?

ib: makaluma by wilbert ross (this chap)

content: vintage au, socialite!daniela, ilustrado!reader, dialogue is in tagalog and spanish, spanish is google translated (it's castilian spanish), eventual angst

word count: 3k+

note: text in bold + italic are journal entries. this fic is both a love letter and a fuck you to philippine history.

author's note: HERE IT IS, Y'ALL, I SWEAR I TRIED TO BE POETIC. I know it's ass... 😔🥀 but I tried! Also, don't mind the last names used, it'll all make sense when the story unfolds fully. Tell me your thoughts so I don't spiral thinking this is a flop ✋🏼😭

1821, 300 years after Ferdinand Magellan first set foot in Homonhon, was not a good time to live in the Philippines as a native. Fortunately, Daniela didn't have to worry about that.

Having migrated from Spain with a well-off family, living in a Spanish-ruled territory as a rich Spaniard… she was living the best life one could at the time. She had maids, guards, anything she could ever want.

She was sitting by the window in the living room of their home, sewing her initials onto some handkerchiefs that her father had bought her. She loved sewing. And when she wasn't sewing, she was often painting or reading, learning English and Tagalog like her father told her to. Sometimes just watching birds from her bedroom window.

“Dumaong na raw galing Espanya ang pamilya Abella ngayong araw, (I heard that the Abella family docked from Spain today,)” one of the maids whispered from the kitchen.

“Narinig ko sa iba na ang anak ng Kapitan Abella ay naipit sa girian at muntik nang makulong kaya naman ay iniuwi na rito, (I heard that Captain Abella’s child got into a fight and was almost jailed so they were brought home,)” another one gossiped.

The clicking sounds of galloping horses and the squeaking of the wheels of the cart that the animals pulled were soon heard just meters away, across the home of Daniela’s family.

Curious, the young woman put what she was holding aside before she rose to her feet and looked out of the window, seeing a man taking bags out of the carriage. They had new neighbors, it seemed.

What caught her attention in particular was a feminine figure, wearing a crisp suit, standing out from the people in the street. She seemed like a splotch of black ink in an otherwise blank page of parchment. Daniela was uncertain of whether it should be refreshing, or unsettling.

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, when she heard the familiar voice of their home’s majordomo.

“Señorita Daniela, tu padre quería que te dijera que te vistieras bien para la cena. Dice que tendremos visitas. (Your father wanted me to tell you to dress well for dinner. He says we'll have company.)”

Daniela turned to look at him and nodded. “Gracias, Guillermo,” she replied softly.

She looked out the window once more, watching as a family entered the home across from her own, before she returned to her previous activity, trying not to think much of the new people in town.

——

Y/N Abella was an Ilustrado. It meant ‘enlightened one’. She and her family were right in the middle level of the middle class, her father being a captain of the civil guard in their town until he was called upon from Spain to train there.

Y/N grew up in Spain and studied there and in America, but she was a Filipino at heart. She often got into heated discussions with Spanish scholars about how the Philippines was its own country and how a revolution would uproot Spanish settlement in the land.

“Manamit ka nang maayos. Nais tayong makilala ng Señor Montoya. Kaibigan siya ng gobernadorcillo ng kabisera, (Dress nicely. Mr. Montoya wants to get to know us. He is a friend of the governor of the capital,)” her father spoke up once the last of their belongings were carried in by some men.

“Kailanman, ako ba’y hindi nanamit nang maayos, Itay? (When have I ever not dressed well, Father?)” Y/N replied with a sly grin, earning a fond shake of her father’s head as a response.

“Hindi ba talaga kita mapipilit na magsuot minsan ng baro’t saya o kahit isang camisa at palda lamang, hija? (Can't I really force you to wear a baro’t saya or even just a shirt and a skirt sometimes, daughter?)” Her father asked, crossing his arms with a loving smile.

It was clear that her father adored her, despite her preferences, her eccentricities. He accepted her when she told him she had preferred to love women, when she preferred to be a scholar rather than the wife of one.

Y/N only shook her head at her father’s inquiry, before retreating to her childhood room. It was still the same, all of it, all that she left when she was eight years old. Now twenty-one, she felt too big, too rough for the little room that once contained her boundless ambition and energy.

“Y/N, huwag ka nang magtagal, inaasahan tayong makarating sa hapunan bago bumaba ang araw, (don't be long, we're expected to be at dinner before the sun sets,)” she heard the gentle voice of her mother call out.

“Opo, Inay! (Yes, Mother!)”

Y/N looked at herself in a mirror and fixed her hair before changing into a crisp brown suit, the first suit she'd bought for herself with the money she earned by ghostwriting stories and other pieces in Spain.

She and her family crossed the street and were let into the sizeable home by a guard.

The young scholar looked around, in awe at how lavish everything was. But what truly captured her eyes weren't the beautiful furniture.

No, none of the muebles, but a beautiful young woman clad in a white camisa under a pañuelo made of piña and woven with a beautiful floral pattern, along with a black skirt with intricate swirls of golden threads. Skin light and smooth as porcelain, striking eyes that seemed to bore into her own once their gazes met.

“Señor Montoya! Encantado de conocerte finalmente, (Mr. Montoya! Nice to finally meet you,)” Y/N’s father’s voice boomed. Joyous, formal. As always.

Y/N, meanwhile, was still making eyes with the only daughter of the rich man.

“Esta es mi hija mayor. Habla Español, Tagalo, e Inglés. Quiere ser abogada, (This is my eldest daughter. She speaks Spanish, Tagalog, and English. She wishes to become a lawyer,)” her father declared with a wide smile, pride evident in his features.

“Mi hija menor está ocupada con cosas de niñas, así que no podrá acompañarnos. Espero que lo entiendas, (My youngest is preoccupied with girlish things, so she won't be able to accompany us. I hope you understand,)” he added on.

The head of the Montoya home nodded with a smile. It was small, sharp, but still warm and welcoming, and it showed just what kind of man Daniela’s father was. He was gentle, but still authoritative, and knew the difference between a steel fist and a guiding hand, which he used in both his household and his business.

“Claro que no hay problema. Espero que podamos verla en otra ocasión, (Of course, no problem. I hope we can see her another time,)” Mr. Montoya responded warmly.

“Daniela,” he called for his daughter. “Dale un recorrido por la casa a la hija del Capitán Abella mientras se prepara la cena. Después, deberías enseñarle el pueblo. (Give Captain Abella's daughter a tour of the house while dinner is being prepared. Afterward, you should show her around town.)”

Daniela nodded dutifully before gesturing for Y/N to follow her.

“Habla usted Tagalo, Señorita? (Do you speak Tagalog, Miss?)” Y/N asked politely once they were alone. She just was so tired of speaking in Spanish. Most of her life has been in Spain… and now that she was in her motherland, she still speaks foreign tongues? Just didn't seem right to her.

“Lo entiendo, pero me temo que no lo hablo bien. Sin embargo, lo leo y lo escribo perfectamente. (I understand it, but I'm afraid I don't speak it well. However, I read and write it perfectly.)”

Daniela's answer made Y/N smile slightly.

“Sayang naman ang dunong mo sa isang napakagandang wika kung hindi mo ito tinatalastas, (What a waste of knowledge on such a beautiful language if you don't speak it,)” the young littérateur quipped playfully.

“Sólo tengo miedo de no sonar bien, (I'm just afraid of not sounding good,)” Daniela explained, making Y/N nod in understanding.

Tagalog did have its nuances that made it difficult to speak for foreigners, but Y/N was slightly endeared by the fact that Daniela could at least read and write it when she didn't have to.

None of the Spaniards learned Tagalog because they didn't feel like they had to. Because they felt that they were superior and thus, Filipinos should learn their language, not the other way around.

“Paano mo natutuhan ang aking wika, binibini? (How did you learn my language, Miss?)” Y/N couldn't help but ask as Daniela began to take her for a walk around the residence.

“Leer, sobre todo. Y escuchar, también. Mi padre creía que aprender tagalo es un acto de respeto fundamental, (Reading, mostly. And listening, too. My father believed that learning Tagalog is a fundamental act of respect,)” Daniela replied, looking through the paintings.

“Cómo te llamas, visitante? (What's your name, visitor?)” She asked, turning to look at Y/N for a change. This was the first time she'd had the chance to admire the girl up close. The sight from her window didn't do the girl justice, clearly.

Locks of hair the color of the darkest barks of narra, skin just gently tanned like it was kissed delicately by the sun, eyes unforgettably deep with the color of burnt umber. Y/N looked like she should be a muse of a painting. If she wasn't one yet, Daniela could fix that.

“Y/N ang ngalan ko. At ang iyo, binibini? (My name is Y/N. And yours is, Miss?)”

Y/N’s voice broke Daniela out of her trance of admiration, making her clear her throat as though it was suddenly filled with unused air.

“Daniela Montoya.”

“Kay gandang ngalan para sa napakagandang mukha, (What a beautiful name for a beautiful face,)” Y/N murmured, softly taking Daniela’s hand. She raised it up to her lips and planted a soft kiss upon her knuckle.

She let Daniela’s hand slip from her own with a smile, seeing the most subtle of signs of being flustered in the young socialite’s face, her paler skin making it more obvious when blood rushed up to her face.

“Quizás deberíamos caminar alrededor de la casa como deberíamos hacerlo, antes de que las criadas susurren, (Maybe we should walk around the house as we should, before the maids whisper,)” Daniela said, her tone now more hushed and less confident than before. It was obvious that Y/N’s charm had caught her off guard.

Y/N opened her mouth to make a comment, but decided against it after a second, only nodding in agreement and letting Daniela take her on a tour of the house just as she was supposed to do.

The whole time, none of Daniela's words even registered to the intellectual. All Y/N could focus on was the woman showing her whatever painting Mr. Montoya was tricked into buying with a ton of money. The only lessons Y/N learned were that the family did have money to spend, and that Daniela’s favorite painting was of a grassy countryside view.

Y/N was going to ask about Daniela’s favorite painting when Mr. Montoya called for them, saying that dinner was ready. Y/N only looked at Daniela and nodded, gesturing for her to go first.

As the pair arrived at the dining room, all that was left at the table were seats across each other. Y/N cheered inwardly since the position would let her steal more glances at the only person keeping her sane and away from all the professional talk and the personal questions the businessman had no business asking her, or anyone in her family, for that matter.

As if reading her clearly from across the table, Daniela sent Y/N a look and an apologetic smile, wordlessly revealing that her father was just always like that. Warm, overly personal. She could tell Y/N wasn't used to revealing too much too soon.

The maids served delicacies that made it obvious that the Montoyas prepared for this visit for weeks. Roast pig, several types of stews, fruits, pastries, very Spanish dishes, and an assortment of sweets.

Y/N served herself food only after the Montoyas and her parents did, as a sign of respect. Something she learned in Spain. Though if you ask her, it felt more like being a tamed animal, taught not to eat before the hand that feeds you. But… oh well, maybe that was just her.

She picked at her food after a few bites of it, playing with her utensils as she tuned out the sound of her father's voice droning on and on about the civil guard. She only stopped when she felt someone glaring at her and when she turned to see who it was, she saw that it was her mother, giving her that glare. The Filipino mom glare you can feel from miles away. Not only did it make Y/N stop, it also made her straighten up in her seat.

Daniela noticed the small interaction and covered her mouth when she giggled quietly. She could tell Y/N was bored and she couldn't blame her. She herself was bored, too. Then she suddenly remembered something.

“Papá, Y/N y yo ya terminamos de cenar. Recuerdo que me dijiste que le mostrara la ciudad? (Father, Y/N and I are already done eating. Remember you told me to show her around town?)” She piped up softly before her father could go on another tangent about how important the civil guard is to the government.

“Ah, sí. Claro. Ten cuidado ahí fuera. (Oh, yes. Of course. Be careful out there,)” Mr. Montoya replied with a small nod, sensing that their dinner conversation didn't excite the young ones.

“Me aseguraré de que Daniela está a salvo, señor, (I'll make sure Daniela is safe, sir,)” Y/N responded, sending the businessman a warm smile. She excused herself and left the dining room with Daniela.

“Paano mo nalamang ako’y nababagot na? (How did you know I was getting bored?)” She asked the socialite, an amused and slightly impressed smile showing itself on her lips.

“Tu cara decía que preferirías estar en cualquier otro lugar que quedarte allí. Además, mi padre también me aburre, (Your face said you'd rather be anywhere else than stay there. Besides, my father bores me too,)” Daniela answered casually with a shrug, making Y/N laugh softly, and Daniela could have sworn she heard angels sing. She shouldn't be feeling like this… not towards someone she just met, and definitely not towards a woman.

But this was the thing… Y/N wasn't just a woman. Her brilliant mind, her charm… Daniela has never seen it in any man. She shook away those thoughts as she left the house with Y/N, beginning to walk down the cobblestone road to the town proper.

“Dito ako isinilang at ikaw pa, isang banyaga, ang magpapakita sa akin ng buong bayan? (I was born here and you, a foreigner, are gonna show me around the town?)” Y/N asked playfully. It didn't bother her in the slightest, actually.

“Te hace sentir como un extraño en tu propia pueblo? (Does it make you feel like a stranger in your own town?)”

There was a playful smile on Daniela’s visage and an exaggerated look of feigned offense on Y/N’s.

“Nakasasakit ng damdamin ang iyong sinasabi, binibini. (Your words hurt my feelings, Miss.)”

“Déjame disculparme contigo llevando a mi parte favorita de la pueblo. (Let me apologize to you by taking you to my favorite part of town.)”

With that, Daniela took Y/N’s hand and led her to an abandoned church. The church was abandoned and overgrown, but the fountain behind it was functional and clean, courtesy of Daniela, since she loved the place so much.

Daniela sat on the ledge of the fountain and Y/N followed suit, sitting next to her. The ledge was covered with a thin sheet of dust, but that was it. Other than that, the fountain was pristine. The water running, the inside of it, no moss or dirt to be seen.

“Tiyak na iyong inaalagaan ang bukal na ito… sapagka’t napakalinis, talagang kaaya-aya tignan, (You certainly take good care of this fountain… because it's so clean and pleasing to look at,)” Y/N stated, glancing at Daniela for a moment.

Daniela cracked a smile, nodding as she, too, looked upon the environment with admiration. Small shrubs of flowers surrounded the fountain, all cleanly trimmed. This was her safe place.

She'd never brought anyone here. This was her haven. Her place of peace. And yet she trusted Y/N enough to do so.

“Me aseguro de venir solo de noche para que los guardias no me vean. Se supone que el lugar está cerrado. (I make sure to come only at night so the guards don't see me. The place is supposed to be closed.)”

The pair enjoyed a few peaceful moments there, simply basking in the beauty of the night as crickets sang to them from the nearby trees and moist blades of grass from the cool night dew.

Even as the pair walked back to the Montoya residence, the trip was filled with lively conversation about everything under the sun. Daniela found that time seemed to race while she was talking to Y/N and she chalked it up to the other woman just being an intellectual and therefore a decent person to converse with, but deep within, she could tell there was another reason.

Right when they made it back to the house, Y/N’s parents were just about to leave.

“Y/N! Llegas justo a tiempo. Tu padre me dijo que te gusta trabajar? Quizás cargar cosas? Me vendría bien una mano en casa, (Y/N! You're just in time. Your father told me you like to work? Maybe carrying things? I could use a hand around the house,)” Mr. Montoya offered graciously.

Y/N had to take a moment to think about it but upon realizing that it would mean that she could see Daniela more often, she quickly agreed.

As soon as she got home with her family, she rushed to her room and opened her journal that she had bought before leaving Spain. She had a journal of her life in Spain, but this was new. She bought herself a new journal for her life in the Philippines because she believed it was a new beginning.

Dipping her quill into ink, she began writing.

Ngayong araw, ako ay nagbalik sa aking bayang sinilangan. Hindi ko man kilala ang aming lugar ay alam kong narito ang puso ko. Akin ring nasilayan ang pinakamagandang dilag na aking nakilala. Isang binibining nagmamay-ari ng isang wangis na karapat-dapat maging paksa ng mga nobela, maging paraluman ng mga pinakamagaling na pintor ng mundo. Hindi ko maunawaan kung paanong siya’y sing-ganda ng bukang-liwayway ngunit sing-payapa ng takip-silim. Kailangan kong makilala pa ang binibini. (Today, I returned to my hometown. I may not know the place, but I know that my heart lies here. Today, I also saw the most beautiful woman I've ever met. A lady that has a face worthy of being the subject of novels, being the muse of the best painters in the world. I can't understand how she's as beautiful as daybreak but as peaceful as dusk. I need to get to know her more.)

——

From then on, for weeks, Y/N gave all sorts of household assistance that she could. She gathered water from the water well outside the Montoya residence, carrying buckets after buckets inside for washing the dishes, cleaning the house, and bathing. She also helped tend to the carriage horses of the family.

In her free time, she sat and talked to Daniela, sometimes singing her Filipino love songs, serenading her, sometimes exchanging small notes and letters to her as she read every book that Daniela ever mentioned. The letters would contain small messages, sometimes comments and notes about the book that the young socialite would suggest. The Montoyas grew to trust her. Daniela grew fonder of her everyday.

One night, there was a small gathering in the town square where people could mingle, chat, and dance. Y/N didn't hesitate to ask Mr. Montoya if she could take Daniela.

“La traeré a casa antes de medianoche, señor. La mantendré a salvo, (I'll bring her home before midnight, sir. I'll keep her safe,)” Y/N promised earnestly, earning a light chuckle from the man of the house and a dismissive wave for her to go.

She hurriedly went to Daniela’s room and told her to change into her best clothes before heading home and changing into a slick black suit, pairing it with a small black hat. She basically ran back to the Montoyas to fetch Daniela, taking her to the town square right after.

The pair danced all night. What Y/N didn't know was that this was the most fun Daniela has ever had. She'd always been so sheltered. Y/N was the first person Mr. Montoya had ever entrusted with Daniela's safety and letting her take his only daughter out.

It all seemed endless. The joy, the dancing, the laughs. Until it suddenly rained. Everyone in the town square scurried home or to their carriages. Daniela and Y/N? They were stuck with no shelter, but they were still laughing.

“Paumanhin, binibini! Ako’y walang karwahe para sa atin dahil gamit ito ng aking papá sa pagpapatrolya, wala rin ako ng kung ano mang magarang sasakyan ang mayroon ngayon sa Kanluran! (Apologies, Miss! I don't have a carriage for us because my father is using it in patrolling, I also don't have whatever fancy vehicle is in the West right now!)” Y/N apologized, her laughs subsiding just ever so slightly.

“Está bien, me encantó bailar contigo, (It's alright, I loved dancing with you,)” Daniela reassured Y/N with a smile, clearly not minding the rain even as it soaked through her thin layers of clothing, pricking her skin with cold. She took Y/N’s hand and led her down the streets, spinning around with her, dancing in the rain until they were back in her house.

The scene was straight out of a romance novel and normally, Y/N would have retched and gagged at the realization, but as she came to think of it, it made her feel warm. An unfamiliar warmth she had never felt before. Surely, if she had, she would remember. It was strange. And yet not unwelcome.

As quietly as possible, they made their way up to Daniela's room where Daniela handed Y/N a towel to dry off.

“Dapat ay magpalit ka na ng iyong damit bago ka pa magkasakit, Daniela, (You should change your clothes before you get sick, Daniela,)” Y/N said as she dried herself the best she could with the towel she was given. The cold rain had soaked through all of her layers of clothing.

“Y deberías irte a casa a descansar. Nos vemos mañana. Gracias por esta noche, (And you should go home and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for tonight,)” Daniela replied softly, taking the towel as Y/N handed it over. She then chuckled and dabbed a particularly wet spot on Y/N’s face with the towel.

Y/N nodded, smiling graciously. “Salamat din, binibini. (Thank you, too, Miss.)”

She walked over to the window and snuck out from there, not wanting to wake the household by stepping on all the creaky floorboards of the stairs that only seemed to creak whenever people were going downstairs.

After that, she snuck into her house, climbing up to her bedroom window to hopefully avoid waking her father, only to see that he was already waiting for her on her bed, arms crossed with a knowing look.

“Gabi na. Saan ka nanggaling? (It's late. Where did you come from?)” The man asked, raising an eyebrow.

And Y/N could never lie to him. She's never tried and she never would.

“Sa sayawan po, Itay. Aking isinama ang Señorita Montoya. Ipinagpaalam ko naman po sa kanyang ama bago kami lumisan, (From the dance, Father. I took Miss Montoya with me. I asked her father for permission before we left,)” she explained with a sheepish smile, even with her bright mind, she truly was still a young woman, still fearing her father’s wrath.

Her father chuckled and shook his head as he rose to his feet. “Ikinagagalak kong makita na naging masaya ka sa pagsasayaw kasama ni Daniela. Ngunit sa susunod ay ugaliin mo ring magpaalam sa sarili mong ama. Magpatuyo ka na at magpahinga. (I'm glad that you had fun dancing with Daniela. But next time, do let your own father know of your activities. Dry off and get some rest.)”

He ruffled her hair and squeezed her shoulder before leaving her be.

Y/N sighed in relief to herself before going to shut her bedroom door. After drying off and changing into sleep clothes, she immediately sat down at her study table and began to write in her journal about her escapades of the day.

Sadyang napakasayang kasama at kausap ni Daniela. Tila ba kami ay nahihirapang ubusin ang mga paksa ng mga nais naming pag-usapan at talagang batid ko sa kanyang pagtingin na nalulugod din siyang ako'y kausapin. Ipinamalas niya rin sa akin ang kanyang husay sa artes nang ipinakita niya sa akin ang kanyang mga lumang guhit at obrang pintado. Pati ang pagbuburda niya sa kanyang mga panyo ay ibinida niya sa akin, at ako’y natuwa na marapat niyang ipinagmamalaki ang kanyang mga gawa. Kami rin ay nagtungo sa sayawan, at ngayon lamang ako nakakita ng binibining umiindak na tila ba ay walang nanonood sa kanya. Nais kong mapalapit pa kay Daniela. (Daniela is really a joy to be with. It's like we're the ones finding difficulty in running out of topics that we want to talk about and I see it in her eyes that she likes talking to me. She also showed off to me her talent in the arts when she showed me her old drawings and painted works. She even showed me her embroidery work on her handkerchiefs and I was glad that she rightfully was showing her works off proudly. We also went to the dance and this was the first time I saw a woman that danced like no one was watching her. I want to get closer to Daniela.)

Y/N closed her journal and hid it in her drawer before throwing herself into the comfort of her bed, letting herself fall asleep, memories of what happened in the day running through her mind, making her slip away into slumber with a smile on her face.

[iv-leafclover]

I'm getting war flashbacks (not literal ha, this sounds so wrong to use 😆) when I see Philippine Historical Fictions, because most of the story ends with angst (either one of them is dead or both). And nothing hurts more than a sinaunang pag-iibigan that ends because of the most fck up reason.

Anyway, it's good to see this kind of genre though. Even if it hurts hahaha. Abangan ko yung mga susunod na kabanata, and I'll also anticipate the angst 🤗.