If a story has three chapters, can it already be considered a series? Don't worry, Melissa will make her presence known soon! 1.7K edited in the slightest. O1. O2.
stargazer.
Seated on a wooden chair in the middle of the bathroom, Dana gazed at her life partner with heart-eyes; it was always an adventure to see them in this former work element. They were dressed only in casual clothes; Dana wore a very loose blouse, while her partner wore only boxer shorts, leaving their torso bare. Something the couple had learned over time in their relationship was that intimacy doesn’t need to be strictly spoken, nor reaffirmed primarily with half-words, but rather lived. Intensified simply by the fact that their company was enough to fill the space. That passionate connection they shared was something they had both longed for, but it took them a while to find each other to live out their eternal promise.
There, in that late afternoon, when Kai was already in their dream state and the day was tied up in the choice of being together, Dana placed her hands on her partner’s hips, running her thumbs over the stretch marks on their belly while their arms moved to apply bleach to the natural roots of her dark hair. Domesticity was something they embraced without expectations, simply carrying on one day after another, molding themselves to each other’s lives, changing and maturing until the rhythm of such different identities became the energy that adorned them like a blanket.
For Dana, dating was a breath of fresh air, the calm that kept her in a sanity she had long yearned for without even knowing where to begin to feel it. For you, the engagement was something grounding, allowing you to live beyond restrictions on how to love who you are or demonstrate such affection without compromising it. Above all, passion, respect, and admiration were what moved such different people to continue cultivating and choosing each other every day since the first time their eyes met in the middle of one of the emergency rooms.
Even though some days in the ER are more chaotic than usual, this particular day was calm, too calm for the nurses on duty to expect. That day, Dana was able to give more attention to the patients who had already been hospitalized for a few days and those who arrived there for minor emergencies. For instance, the lady who was brought in with a twisted ankle, and it was swollen, turning a purplish color, indicating something far more serious than a sprain.
While examining the silver-haired lady, Dana noticed the woman had a curious facial expression, a mischievous gaze that was too much for what the nurse accepted in that line of work. With delicate fingers pressing on one of the purple joints, the nurse stepped back to make notes on the tablet and finally faced the older woman.
“Alright, what’s going on here that you are not telling me, ma’am?” the blonde’s lips curved into an almost imperceptible grimace.
“Oh, nothing, honey! It’s just– you got all this attitude walking around, all that swagger but you’re still gentle with your touch. You really care about your patients,” she admitted. All sorts of cordial behavior with words were definitely not that woman’s forte. “You know… My daughter needs someone like you.”
Dana wasn’t surprised; it was almost routine dealing with the type of patient who always wanted their child to get involved with a healthcare worker for better financial conditions, even if the statistics proved otherwise.
“Really?” the head nurse questioned without much enthusiasm.
“You look like you actually want to be here, taking care of those in need… This kind of passion ain’t easy to find. My kid? They’re just like that. And my baby needs someone like you, since they’re always on the rougher end.” the nurse could see the gleam in the woman’s smile as she spoke about her daughter. “They’ll catch your eye, I’m telling you!”
And as if by magic, when the curtain opened, the figure Dana spotted arrived similar to an eclipse. Majestic. The blood-red of their lips contrasted with the bright sunlight that their energy carried, dissipating the pale light of the emergency room and the energy of illness that hovered over the hospital, seeming null in their orbit.
“Mother!” their alert voice snapped the nurse out of her reverie, and she noticed how the elderly woman’s face had twisted as if she’d been caught doing something petty. The woman knew she was in trouble, and that realization made Dana hold back a laugh.
“Uhhh, hey sweetheart.” now that you were checking the older woman’s body for any other signs of injury, there was an air of insecurity in her voice. “Who called you?”
“Guess who.” when the sense of urgency dissipated, their arms were crossed, finally facing the nurse. “What did she said to you, exactly?”
“Nothing that offended me, if that’s what you’re asking.” she went back to making some notes about the swelling and heard a deep laugh. Looking back at you, she closed her eyes, realizing that perhaps that wasn’t the answer you were expecting. “But, that’s not really what you meant though, is it?”
“No... But let me apologize in advance for whatever nonsense she decided to say without actually thinking.” putting the sunglasses on top of their head, making the bangs fall back in a unique design with the height of the hair tied up in a way that gave them a 2000s look that she appreciated a little too much. Their low-waisted, bell-bottom jeans with a loose, thin-fabric blouse, open at the back, implied the lack of a bra. Even though she could see their nipples reacting to the air conditioning. “She was having sex on a table.”
“Excuse me?” Dana was caught off guard, setting aside professionalism for a moment to giggle, observing how red as a tomato her patient looked, completely mortified.
“That old hussy’s new boyfriend called me saying she fell clean off the table while they were apparently doing some extra-curricular activities.” the smile on your lips revealed that although the concern was still evident, nothing would take away the locution “like mother, like daughter,” or that “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” would have even more effect. “Maybe it’s best to order an X-ray... Just to be sure.”
“Yeah, of course... I’ll get on it right away!” she was too disconcerted by your tone, voice and presence to say that she had already requested the exam and your godmother was on the waiting list.
After that interaction, the older woman finally spoke, further disconcerting the nurse and her daughter. “See, Dana? Told you the two of you would get along.”
Taking possession of all the courage that remained in their body, after putting their godmother in the car and her insistence on having them take the first step with the nurse, their steps met again on the smooth floor of the emergency room. In different circumstances, in another place, they really would have left the shyness aside and danced to the music, the primary distinction being that the music in that place smelled of antiseptic and was too bright for everyone to see if they got turned down.
Coming across the blonde again, she was trying to fix her hair with a rusty hair clip until it snapped apart. They smiled after a breath of confidence, approaching the station and lightly nudging her shoulder with their index finger.
“Uh– excuse me,” removing their own hair clip to offer it to her, voice firm as the surface set between both bodies. She accepted it with a simple, whispered thank you amidst a sigh. She could see how their hair fell like a shimmering cascade over gathered shoulders.
“I’m hoping you either got another one with you, or you’ll come back later so I can give it back,” she quipped, studying their uncertainty. It was rare that, even with someone making arrangements between them, they would still show signs of nerves on edge. It was totally reciprocal.
“Actually, I was meant to ask…” something Dana couldn’t quite point out was the realization that they possessed more than just confidence and a positive attitude. “Are you currently involved in a sexual relationship?” straightforward, there it was! She loved that quality in a potential date.
Using their hair clip, she finally managed to get the blonde strands out of her eyesight and observed the blush forming on their cheeks.
“No,” the blonde said simply, not concerned with how that scene was being presented to the other people who were clearly paying attention, even if they tried to hide it. “Would you like to be?”
“Sure… Why not?” they smiled broadly, highlighting the dimples in rosy cheeks, and that scene became even more beautiful in her eyes, as she admired their beauty as if she had never seen anyone so unique before. “Can I get your phone number?”
Dana looked pleased, practically breathless. Reaching out with her right hand to take theirs and bring it towards the front desk, the left-handed woman took one of the blue markers from the uniform pocket and removed the cap using her teeth, tracing her personal phone number on their palm between the embroidered lines. The moment her attention shifted from the delicate hand back to the new beautiful face, they couldn’t take their eyes off her lips around the marker cap, which was removed and placed back in her pocket. Their stomach churned.
“Thank you…” their soft voice enhanced the blonde by every second. Soothing in the face of so much anxiety. “And, uh… You can keep the hair clip if you want. Looks better on you anyway, honestly.”
“You got that look again.” your low-voice pulled Dana from her nostalgic thoughts, the butterflies flying high on her stomach extending to the fixed gaze of your bright eyes. Your admiring smile once more took her breath away.
“What look? I have no idea what you are talking about right now!” she shrugged, but she would never deny that look was one of love. Of feeling something simple, yet so, so beautiful. In that cozy space, you were between her legs, and soon the older woman embraced your waist and rested her chin on your belly, which had once served as a home for your baby.
“Uh-huh… The last time you looked at me like that, I ended up pregnant the next month, so don’t start with me.”
📌 ∶ not sure if anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters of this story, so please tell me if you do. also, I have no idea what the title of this story should be... any thoughts?
So, I had this idea mid-chapter. Maybe I'm having too much fun writing again, so that's it, I thought: "what if we add a little bedazzle?" and here we go. 1.6K not edited. O1. O3.
intimacy.
Once the baby in your lap fell asleep, you settled them back into the sling, taking time to recover from the post-breastfeeding anxiety. It was a mixture of relief and the weight of being in such a situation accompanied by a human being who barely understood their own actions. In a perfect stranger’s car, with the month’s groceries and the most important person in your life. All this because your wife had chosen a new career path, something less demanding for this new beginning.
Unlocking the door, your body moved carefully, and the redhead noticed your distress, paying attention to the following movements. Your gentle walk to where she was sitting, occupying the opposite side. Finally, introducing yourself with your first and last name. “And this little symphony of snores? That’s Kai– out cold.”
The older woman chuckled, still composed in the face of the sensitive situation she was witnessing. Somehow, she could see in your eyes the determination, the passing of tiredness, and a rather unique maternal strength. Clearing her throat, asking.
“How old is this tiny lovely thing?” the hoarse, yet calm voice brought tranquility to your senses for a moment.
“Just hit five months not long ago.” your smile brightened like an arrow cutting through the wind. Melissa found herself caught off guard and completely hypnotized by the warmth that led her to find your lips with the gaze of her eyes, but that soon faded once your phone started to ring.
Curling up on the sofa with their feet on the older woman’s lap, their eyes were lost, trying to focus on a solid point on the dark wall while delicate hands massaged their feet. Although the day had passed quickly after Dana’s small stumble regarding the day’s schedule, their mind wouldn’t let that redhead figure out some of their thoughts. The kindness in helping someone in such a fragile moment, asking for absolutely nothing in return. Besides offering a calm setting for them to nurse the baby, she also made sure to assure them that everything would be alright, even without knowing what was really going on in their lives. How their world had changed.
Your spouse slipped her bare fingertips up your legs, moving herself even closer to your body until she could touch your hips, caressing the skin beneath the sweater.
“Hey… Talk to me, my beautiful angel,” the blonde whispered softly, fixing her gaze on your face, now flushed with embarrassment at being caught in thought. “What’s going on with you, huh? What’s got you like this?”
“We moved to a new city. After we got married, everything shifted. We don’t have friends here, no jobs yet—nothing but this apartment and our baby. It’s all in Pittsburgh!” your voice was overflowing with emotion; you missed your friends even though they’d only been apart for less than two weeks. “I know this move mattered. For us, for the baby… I get that. I didn’t just go along with it because I’m madly in love with you; I could have said no, and we would have stayed. Not only that, but I made the call too.” you paused to breathe and look into her eyes. “It’s a lot. And today? I felt so vulnerable… More than I’m used to.”
“I know, my love. I know. I’m sorry about today,” her husky voice, softened by years of cigarette smoke, muttered against your lips, leaving a longing kiss. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll adjust. I promise. You’re not going to feel exposed like that again. Not like this,” the lump in her throat was similar to the one from a few months ago, when she arrived back home with a bloody nose from a work incident while you were resting with the newborn baby. “Not on my watch.”
At that moment, however vulnerable she had felt, Dana was at ease knowing you weren’t working that day, because it could have been you arriving home with your whole body dizzy, out of sorts, and bearing no chance of spending another day in an emergency room without thinking back on the dozens of times you’d had to defend yourself from patients throughout your career.
Noticing your wife’s reverie, you pulled her by the waist ahead of giving her any time to react; your free hand reached the tip of her chin. With eyes closed, you pressed your mouths close together in a stolen kiss, slowly sucking on those soft lips, savoring the smile you earned from your wife. The older woman’s warm body, pressed against yours, instinctively wrapped her arms around your neck in a strong and affirming embrace. The smile gracing her rosy lips was sealed by your affection, which she reciprocated with even more tenderness.
Taking in the unique scent of their arousal, a murmur reverberated as a warning; the devotion Dana felt for her companion was overwhelming. As soon as she inhaled the scent typical of your presence, her heart rate instinctively raced. The collision of their mouths, her blood pressure was worrying. Soon, her cheeks turned pink, a mixture of shyness, as if it were the first time, as well as happiness at the moment of finally being alone with you.
Holding onto her back, bringing your hand to the nape of her neck, your fingers entwined into blonde hair. Introducing your tongue against her anxious mouth. She sucked on the kiss, rubbing her tongue against yours, savoring the taste, the flavors, and textures. Separating your lips only by the pressure of their breath, the older woman pressed your foreheads together and brought the fingers of both hands to your flushed face.
Gently tapping your cheeks in a genuine caress, she sealed your lips once more, warm and admiring. Butterflies fluttered freely throughout your body; being in your wife’s company was always a carnival of feelings.
“You know I love you, right?” Dana expressed through a warm, gentle smile. “God… I love you so much it’s ridiculous.”
Effortlessly resting your face on the caresses of the woman’s gentle fingers, you savored each moment, each second, each touch as if it were the very first and the last one. Thus, you exchanged kisses again, shivers running through your every corner, every side, as she clung to your mouth. You held your breath until it ran out, then murmured against her swollen lips.
“I know. And I love you just as much… But if you leave me out on the street like that again, I’m heading back to Pittsburgh. No looking back.” she couldn't help but smile, nor laugh out loud at it, as a spontaneous reaction. An idea crossed your mind. Since the baby was born, you and your wife hadn’t enjoyed intimacy in months. “Good thing Melissa showed up when she did.”
“Who’s Melissa?” she lowered her lips to your neck, leaving a reddish bite along with a trail of saliva. Dana loved engraving your skin with her teeth, even more so in areas where everyone would know who you belonged to.
Her sneaky hand moved towards the middle of your pelvis, sliding down her fingers rather slowly through your folds.
“The one who let me take a breath in the back of her car.” she could feel how wet you currently were, tightening your walls on the tips of her fingers in anticipation. “A real sweetheart.”
“Oh, yeah? So she was your knight in shining armor, then?” keeping your legs open for the older woman, Dana admired the trail of fluid that trickled between your folds.
“Mhm… Carried the bags and stayed close… The whole thing.” it seemed magical how much naughtier you had become due to the pregnancy.
“That’s real kind of her, baby. Must’ve caught your eye, though– you don’t just stop and chat like that for nothing.” the nurse could declare that she grew even more insane for you with each passing year.
“You should’ve seen her, my love…”
“Yeah? Go on– tell me, what about her had you so distracted??” she was obsessed with every part of you, so she spared no effort when her precise fingers found your clitoris, touching its contours and stimulating it at a pace that was almost torturous.
“Her body… The way that dress didn’t leave much to the imagination either– curves, hips just the way we adore them, love. She’s perfect. For a second, I almost lost myself in what she was saying– I could only think about kissing her.” at no point did she take her eyes off your body, your features. Analyzing how your mind was responding to every touch.
“Look at you, my precious thing… You look so sweet, all wound up talking soft like that.” Dana buried her fingers deep inside you; with each thrust she admired your pussy tightening around the wedding ring on her left hand, vaguely touching your clitoris with her index finger just to hear the pretty sounds you made. “If I had gotten there sooner… I might have had to thank her properly. For taking such good care of what’s mine.”
Your eyes rolled back with pleasure; her touches would never bore you. That woman knew every part of your body as if she had an instruction manual or a treasure map. In no time, you were in melodious sobs, your body convulsing as you milked on the older woman’s fingers.
The smile on her face was something you would always fall in love with every time you witnessed it. That wicked smirk… It was one of the tools she used to disarm you.
“As much as I love hearing you get all worked up thinking about me– and whoever else crosses your pretty naughty mind. I want to see how much of me you can take today. C’mon, get this juicy ass to bed.” the blonde commanded, getting up and tasting you in her mouth, sucking on her fingers while staring at your shiny eyes, lacking any sort of filter.
📌 ∶ not sure if anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters of this story, so please tell me if you do. also, I have no idea what the title of this story should be... any thoughts?
Just a small draft on Melissa Schemmenti. Maybe I'll turn this idea into a series. Not sure yet. 1.8k not edited. O2.
teardrops.
After spending a long day chasing around nearly forty second-grade children, the only thing the teacher needed after arriving at the small apartment in the Philadelphia suburbs, was a glass of wine and a shower where she could release all the stress built up that afternoon. Tossing her keys onto the living room coffee table, she sat on the small red sofa to remove her old mud-stained boots, knowing she’d have to send the leather pair for a professional cleaning. She also removed the jacket, and thus, the armor that one woman insisted on wearing every day began to dissipate. In that particular space, she ceased to be Ms. Schemmenti and became exclusively Melissa.
Longing for some quiet, she didn’t feel the need to turn on the main lights in the house, only the living room lamp that illuminated the narrow hallway through which her body was guided to the bathroom. While the heated water filled the bathtub, the woman made her way back down the hall to the kitchen, taking a crystal glass and a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. Once pouring herself a glass, she wasted no time before bringing the red wine to her mouth, savoring a sip of the citrus notes, and letting out a soft sigh of relief.
When the day’s clothes reached the laundry basket and she could finally step into the warm water, all the muscles in her body relaxed. Along with the pleasure of the alcohol intoxicating her senses and the warmth embracing every part of the glass, besides all the ups and downs, Melissa was grateful for another year she was still standing.
During a school year without a break, a divorce that led the woman to the small cubicle she tried to call home and the failed attempt to find someone to meet her most basic needs. It was no wonder she had valued silence when arriving home; she herself had a talkative mind. Plus the noise of school, voices and chairs scraping, the markers on the boards, sneakers and sandals dragging on the floor making distinct sounds, and her bad luck in choosing trivial, boring, and saccharine men without emotion or too attached—it was as if the fairy tale was repeating itself again and again. Leading her to cling to what she had long done best, giving herself a quiet time.
No background music, no external noises, just Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti and her existence. However, nothing was as expected, and perhaps she didn’t deserve so much peace. That’s what she thought when the loud noise coming from the apartment next door got her attention. She couldn’t immediately identify what it was, but that didn’t make her happy about it either; her neighbors were gentle old people who went to bed before seven, and in the year she had lived there, nothing had disturbed any of her serenity yet.
Given that the moment had ended in the blink of an eye, she finished the shower almost hurriedly, removing every trace of soap previously applied with the help of a sponge, and she went to the room to change clothes, deciding that sleeping like that would be best. Without the texture of pajamas or a mixture of floral scents from moisturizing creams. With her body dry, she took off the towel, threw it on the dressing table chair, and settled her body under the covers.
Fortunately, the bedroom was located facing the street, away from the previous noise that interrupted her silence period.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the window, warming every crack it touched, her warm body waking up slowly, stretching like a lazy cat. It was the first day of summer break, and Melissa knew exactly how she wanted to spend the next few hours. She didn’t hesitate to put on the first sundress spotted in the wardrobe, a thrift store found in pastel shades with a white background and blue flowers. Sitting in the vanity chair, she chose to tie her hair up in a bun with bobby pins, put on earrings, and a single necklace. For makeup, she opted for something light: mascara and a cherry red lip gloss.
In contrast to the previous night, when she got into the car, the album selected for that day was a complete compilation of Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong that she found on a music app. Calmly singing the lyrics of “You Won't Be Satisfied,” the streets passed before the redhead’s eyes like a story fading from memory, because a year ago a man of average (almost nonexistent) good looks only gave up when he signed the divorce papers, when her heart was in pieces after being betrayed; even through tears she tried to fill that void with kisses and affection. Melissa had been reduced to a traditional housewife, a faithful one besides the background of cheating in her teenage years. Over the decades of marriage, all she received in return were complaints, making her heart ache for every day she tried, declared, and got lost in a fantasy that wasn’t hers to begin with. Joe was only satisfied when he destroyed all her dreams, taking away her youth, her dream of being a mother, and having a home full of affection. He even got her house through the courts, since the deed was in his name.
A final tear ran down the woman’s pale face; she would never cry for that reason ever again.
Walking through the regional market where farmers set up their trucks and stalls to sell organic produce, Melissa felt her chest warm; the smell was familiar, the people were the same at that time, and everything was going as expected. As she put on her prescription glasses to examine one of the jars of preserved goods, another hand brushed against hers, causing the redhead to close her eyes in irritation before finally hearing a melodious voice apologize for the inconvenience and turn its back on her, observing that they didn’t wait for a response from the Italian woman. Melissa said nothing but noticed that the stranger’s hair cascaded down their back, an unusual color that didn’t seem black nor brown. She shrugged and continued into some of the stalls, haggling with some of the vendors.
Receiving help to put two boxes in the trunk of her car, she thanked the boy and handed him a fifty-dollar bill. Even though the teacher’s salary wasn’t much, Melissa always helped at the farmers market or independent workers as best as she could.
The cries of a baby caught her attention. On one of the benches outside the municipal market, that same figure from earlier rested with a child in their arms, calmly cradling the baby even though their face expressed the urgency they were in. Head tilted to the side as they stabilized a cell phone between their shoulder and ear. She knew the staring was longer than necessary; it was strange, besides, she had never seen that person there before.
“Oh– hey, hon! You said you were coming to get me. The baby’s crying, and I ain’t great at breastfeeding out in public, okay? I could really use you right now.”
Melissa watched, noticing how your face betrayed the tiredness, the grayer lines under luminous eyes. “What the hell?! No– I’m not taking a damn taxi! Alright, alright... Fine, I’ll head your way. Give me ten minutes.”
Her heart tightened when she saw you put the phone away and fasten the baby back into the sling. Your naturally pouting lips sealed the child’s still restless forehead with a promise, and a wave of comfort seemed to awaken within them. The bags you were carrying in tired arms were obvious, which made the Italian woman approach discreetly but still clearly in your visual field.
“Hey, let me help you with that,” she declares, giving a friendly smile and taking two of the bags from your hands. “I’m Melissa.”
When you looked at her face, your eyebrows were arched; it was one of the last things you would expect in that city.
“You don’t have to. Thanks, though.” you acknowledged, running a soft hand over your own cheeks; you really needed a plan. “I... I just need a minute to calm my baby down a bit. Is there somewhere quiet around here I could sit? Just– away from the noise?”
Melissa was absolutely certain that her orbit, the downcast and monotonous routine, had been pushed aside. Analyzing the situation as a whole, she was happy to be able to help; she couldn’t imagine dealing with a newborn and the weight of an expense in her hands while alone on the street. That’s why, in addition to standing next to your figure, holding some of the bags so you could have a rest, the redhead offered: “You both can use my car. It’s parked right over there if you want.”
She observed the way your expression went from fatigue to confusion and disappointment in a fraction of a second. The laugh that had slipped from your lips was as painful as a stab in the back, and Melissa couldn’t quite explain why.
“Alright, ma’am. Your approach could use some work! For the record, before you attack me, I need to at least defend my honor.” your words came out sharply.
Something revealed that maybe you spent too much time dealing with this type of approach, and that had been instilled in her. You were certainly not from Philly.
Why is it always like this? People just expect things from you… No heads-up, no asking; like it doesn’t land on you afterwards, like it doesn’t cost you something.
You were tired. Really tired.
Briefly rummaging through your shoulder bag, trembling hands gave up the search before your brain could reason, “I've got pepper spray. Somewhere…” your murmuring made Melissa shrug mid laugh and start walking towards her car. “Screw you for making me look for it right now, lady!”
When you found the self-defense device, your gaze followed to where the woman was waiting for you, leaning against the car with the door open.
Your throat tightened; being in a new city without many acquaintances was something that would faithfully backfire.
Somehow you walked to the older woman; she succeeded in taking the bags from your hands and handed the car keys in your direction, saying she would put the products in the trunk until you had time to focus on the restless baby in your lap.
From this point of view, you were in control. With the car keys in hand, you got into the back seat, and shutting the door, you locked yourself inside the vehicle.
Melissa didn’t remain strictly close to the door; she sat where you had been and took her cell phone out of her pocket. It was strange to think that the first act of kindness shown to you came from a complete stranger, who probably did it out of pity.
A few tears fell down your cheeks as you detached the sling from your body and held the baby close to the nearly exposed neckline.
📌 ∶ @schemmentigfs , @rosie6reyes , @moonabbott , @marvel210 , @myownworriedshoes , @theywerer00mates , @derpyavocado ⸻ let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics. thanks for reading! 💞
Summary:Melissa and you continued your slow burn and teasing, so slow that almost everyone, your daughter, Bárbara and all the teachers at school, decided to step in, spraying fuel in every chance they got to see if your slow burn became a fire of passion.
AN:I'm thinking of doing part 3,but I'm not sure if I already hit the limit with this one or if you would like part 3,let me know 😅
Thanks for all the sweet comments and support on the previous one, it definitely made me write faster 😂💕
Melissa has spent the whole night pretending she was totally fine, absolutely not waiting like a Victorian wife whose husband has gone to sea.
She had told herself that at least fourteen times over the last two hours. She was simply… awake...
On the couch...
Still fully dressed...
With the television on mute and a stack of ungraded spelling tests in her lap she had not looked at once.
That was not waiting! That was multi-tasking. Efficient, practical multitasking.
If Barbara were here, she would have laughed in Melissa’s face.
The apartment was quiet without Gaia there. Too quiet. Melissa had not realized how much of the house’s warmth came from the little sounds the two of you made. Your footsteps crossing the kitchen. Your soft humming while washing dishes. Gaia’s chatter floating from her room.
Without it, the place felt strange. Temporary. Like it was holding its breath.
Melissa checked the clock. Again.
10:47.
Then immediately scowled at herself. You were at a professional dinner, not being held hostage.
For all she knew, you were having a wonderful time, smiling that soft smile across a white tablecloth while some polished hospital director realized how lucky they’d be to hire you.
And if she or he happened to be handsome, charming, and the kind of man who noticed your laugh and wanted to hear it again, well. That would be—
The front door opened.
Melissa sat bolt upright so fast she nearly launched the spelling tests across the room.
You stepped inside, cheeks pink from the cold, your coat slipping from one shoulder as you fumbled to close the door behind you. And you were smiling. Really smiling. The kind that reached your eyes and made them shine.
Melissa’s chest tightened. Good interview, then.
That should have relieved her completely.
Instead, the ugly little voice in her head whispered: Or good date.
Then your eyes landed on her and your smile widened.
-“You waited up"-Not a question. Something warm and pleased flickered across your face.
-“I was awake"- Melissa immediately crossed her arms. You laughed softly as you slipped off your shoes.
-“Sure"-The sound curled through her chest like steam. She hated how much she liked making you laugh.
-“Well?”-she asked, trying for casual and missing by several emotional miles-“How’d it go?”-You stared at her for half a second. Then your face broke open completely. That bright, disbelieving joy people wore only when life had surprised them by being kind.
-“I got it"-Melissa froze. And then she was moving before she could think. She crossed the room in three quick steps and pulled you into a hug. Hard enough that your breath caught. The force of it startled both of you.
Melissa was not a spontaneous hugger. She barely tolerated side-hugs from Jacob. But you fit against her like she’d been reaching for this exact shape for months. Warm. Solid. Real.
You made the smallest surprised sound before your arms came around her automatically.
And then you were hugging back. Tight. Melissa could feel your smile against her shoulder.
-“You got it?” - she repeated, her voice muffled against your hair. You laughed, breathless and bright.
-“I got it"- The joy in your voice hit her straight in the heart. She pulled back just enough to look at you. You were beaming. Actually glowing.
And Melissa thought, with sudden painful clarity, that she would do almost anything to keep seeing that look on your face.
-“It’s full-time”-you said, words tumbling out now-"Benefits, regular hours, enough to finally save again, and they loved my proposal for specialized meal plans for the kids in recovery and...”-Melissa was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt-"...we will even have medical and dental cover!"-you yelled exited
-“That’s incredible"-You laughed again, shaking your head like you still didn’t believe it.
-“I kept waiting for them to change their minds"-you confessed
-“They’d be idiots to"-The words came out sharp with certainty. Your smile faltered. Softened. You looked at her for a beat too long. Melissa’s pulse stumbled.
-“You always say things like that”-you said quietly
-“Like what?”-she frowned softly
-“Like you believe in me"-The room went still. Melissa’s throat tightened unexpectedly, because of course she believed in you, how could she not? You were the strongest person she had ever met. You had built warmth out of almost nothing. Made joy for Gaia out of struggle. Walked through humiliation and uncertainty and still somehow stayed gentle. Believing in you was the easiest thing Melissa had ever done.
She swallowed.
-“Well"-she said, suddenly unable to meet your eyes-“someone has to be the voice of reason around here"-You laughed under your breath.
Then, before Melissa could prepare herself, your hand lifted and settled lightly against her cheek. The touch was feather-soft. Intentional. Melissa stopped breathing.
-“Thank you"- you whispered-"You are very sweet" - your voice was soft, full of feelings behind it. Her heart slammed against her ribs. You were so close. Close enough that she could feel your warmth, smell your perfume faded now into something softer and wholly yours. Her eyes dropped to your mouth before she could stop them. And when she looked back up, your breathing had changed. A tiny hitch. Your eyes darkened slightly. Melissa’s pulse roared. The space between you felt charged. One inch. Half an inch. If either of you leaned...
Then your phone rang.
You jumped apart so fast it was honestly embarrassing. Gaia’s name flashed across the screen. For one stunned second, neither of you moved. Then you grabbed the phone, breathless and pink-cheeked.
-"Ho-hola bebé" - Melissa stood frozen in the middle of the living room, every nerve ending screaming.From the phone came Gaia’s delighted little voice
-“Did you kiss Miss Melissa yet?”-You closed your eyes. Melissa made a strangled noise that might actually have been her soul leaving her body. And Gaia, tiny menace that she was, cackled so loudly her friend’s mother could be heard laughing in the background.
Melissa decided, then and there, that your daughter was absolutely Ava's spiritual successor. And she was in very serious trouble.
While you answered the phone, your hand reached behind you automatically. Searching. Finding. Your fingers slipped around Melissa’s hand and held on, as naturally as if you had done it a thousand times before. Melissa’s entire body went rigid. Heat rushed up her neck so fast it was almost painful.
You didn’t seem to notice. Or if you did, you gave no sign. You were too busy balancing the phone between your shoulder and cheek, your thumb absently brushing over Melissa’s knuckles as Gaia’s tiny voice chirped through the speaker.
-“Weren’t you supposed to be asleep at this hour?”- you asked, slipping effortlessly into your best mom voice. The kind Melissa had heard before, warm but gently firm, threaded with a love so obvious it made something ache pleasantly in her chest.
Gaia giggled.
-“I just wanted to say goodnight"-Even without seeing her, you clearly knew that expression. The giant brown eyes. The exaggerated pout. You smiled despite yourself.
-“Manipulative"-you murmured
-“That’s a big word"-she replied
-“It means you’re trouble"-you explained
-“I learned from you"-your daughter said immediately. Melissa snorted. You rolled your eyes, laughter soft in your voice.
-“Goodnight, bebé. Te amo"-you replied smiling
-“Te amo too"-Gaia said softly. Then, louder-“Goodnight, Miss Melissa!”-Melissa startled, still very much short-circuiting from your hand wrapped around hers.
-“Uh… goodnight, kid"-Gaia laughed triumphantly and hung up.
The apartment fell quiet again. And suddenly, with no tiny voice filling the space, the reality of what was happening settled over both of you. You turned back toward Melissa. Still holding her hand. The movement pulled her half a step closer. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of your body through the thin space between you. Close enough that if either of you leaned in, there would be no pretending anymore.
Your eyes dropped. To your joined hands. And widened slightly.
-“Oh"-Melissa’s pulse immediately attempted escape. She should let go. You should let go. One of you should absolutely, definitely let go. Neither of you moved. A soft flush rose in your cheeks. Melissa was certain she had never seen anything more dangerous.
Then you looked up, and there was something shyly amused in your expression. Like you were embarrassed. But not unhappy.
-“So…”- you said, your voice suddenly softer than before. Melissa stared at your mouth. Then violently redirected her attention to your eyes
-“Yeah?”-Your fingers tightened just slightly around hers. A tiny unconscious squeeze.
-“Do you want to watch a movie?"-You offered. Melissa’s brain, which had been functioning at roughly eight percent capacity, blue-screened completely.
A movie.
Right.
A normal roommate thing.
People watched movies all the time.
Without obsessively noticing how warm the other person’s hand was.
Without wondering what their lips would feel like.
Totally normal.
-“Sure"-she said, and was quietly horrified by how breathless she sounded. Your smile deepened. Still soft. Still pink-cheeked. Still not letting go.
-“Okay"-you answered. Neither of you moved.
Melissa’s practical brain screamed GO TO THE COUCH, YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT.
Instead, she stood there frozen while your thumb brushed once more across the back of her hand.
And then, because apparently the universe had decided she had suffered enough dignity for one night, you gave her hand a tiny tug toward the couch. Melissa followed instantly. Like a lost cause. You glanced back over your shoulder and caught her obeying without hesitation. Your smile turned brighter. Teasing.
-“Oh my God"-Melissa muttered.
-“What?”-pretending innocence
-“You’re enjoying this"-she narrowed her eyes. You laughed softly.
-“Maybe a little"-You confessed. That sound wrapped around Melissa’s ribs and squeezed.
Because there was something different in it tonight. Lighter. Braver.
As if whatever had almost happened before Gaia’s interruption had changed something between you.
You reached the couch and finally let go to grab the remote. The sudden loss of contact felt ridiculous in how immediate it was.
Melissa stared accusingly at her now-empty hand. Her fingers actually missed yours. This was getting medically concerning.
-“What do you want to watch?”-you asked, settling beside her. Close enough that your thigh pressed lightly against hers. Melissa forgot every movie ever watched. You noticed her staring and smiled.
-“Melissa?”-you asked. She swallowed.
-“Yep?"-Your smile widened. And then, with impossible casualness, you leaned into her side and rested your head lightly against her shoulder. Melissa stopped breathing. Again.
-“Oh" - you murmured, already getting comfortable-"And just so you know…”-
-“Know what?”- Her voice came out embarrassingly thin. You tilted your face just enough for her to catch the tiny smile curving your lips.
-“You were right" - you smiled more
-“About what?”-she lifted her eyebrow
-“I did want you to think I looked nice tonight”-Melissa’s soul immediately left her body and ascended into the Philadelphia night sky. And beside her, very pleased with yourself, you pressed play, while Melissa internally combusted trying to process how casually you climbed into her personal space like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Melissa did not absorb a single second of the movie. Not one. She couldn’t have told anyone the title, the genre, or whether there had been actual dialogue at all. For all she knew, the television was just projecting abstract shapes and emotionally charged background music.
Her entire awareness had narrowed to one impossible fact: You were tucked against her side. Your hair smelled faintly like jasmine and whatever shampoo you used, something soft and warm that made Melissa’s brain feel like it had been wrapped in static.
And your hand kept slipping into hers so naturally that it was driving her insane. Not tentative. Not shy. Just absentmindedly familiar, as if this were something the two of you had done every night for years. As if your fingers already knew where they belonged.
Melissa’s pulse had not dropped below catastrophic levels once.
Halfway through the movie, you shifted suddenly and sat up-“I have to pee"-you whisperd and Melissa nearly jumped out of her skin. The words were so ordinary, so absurdly normal after the emotional warfare currently happening in her chest, that her brain short-circuited.
-“Okay”-she said, much too quickly. You smiled, clearly amused by her stiffness.
-“Relax, Lisa. I’ll be back"-your voice was lower than usual but not a whisper, completely relaxed.
"Lisa"
Melissa froze. No one called her Lisa. Maybe Mel... But Lisa? No, not unless they had known her for years, or loved her enough to earn it.
Hearing it in your voice, soft and thoughtless and affectionate, did dangerous things to her heartbeat. Before she could process any of that, you disappeared down the hallway.
Melissa sat motionless for exactly three seconds. Then she shot upright and started pacing.
-“Oh my God"-Her whisper came out strangled. This was absurd. You were her roommate. A very beautiful, very kind, catastrophically warm roommate who had apparently decided Melissa’s personal space was optional.
This was not sustainable. Barbara would smell the yearning on her from three zip codes away.
Melissa dragged both hands down her face and exhaled sharply. She needed to calm down. Act normal. Be normal. Simple.
So naturally, she panic-made popcorn.
By the time the microwave beeped, she had almost convinced herself she was back in control.
Then you came back. And every coherent thought immediately abandoned ship.
You had changed into her old oversized Eagles t-shirt. The one that had gotten mixed into your laundry weeks ago and that you had sheepishly admitted was “accidentally very comfortable.” Melissa had told you to keep it.
At the time, it had felt like no big deal.
Now, seeing it hanging loose over your frame, brushing the tops of your bare thighs, your glasses sliding slightly down your nose, your hair messy from retying it, your feet bare against the hardwood floor…
Melissa nearly dropped the popcorn bowl.
You somehow looked even more beautiful like this. Not dressed up and glowing under restaurant lights.
Just soft.
Real.
Home.
And that was infinitely worse.
You noticed her staring and raised an eyebrow-“What?”-Melissa’s survival instincts kicked in
-“Put on pants"-she pretended to frown. You looked down at yourself. Then back at her, deeply offended.
-“This is a shirt"-you pointed at yourself
-“Exactly"-she raised an eyebrow
-“It covers everything"-you pointed at your thighs and the mouth of the redhead went immediately dry when she followed your finger
-“It absolutely does not"-she cleared her throat. You grinned. The slow, teasing kind that made Melissa’s stomach drop.
-“You’re flustered"-you lifted an eyebrow smiling, too amused with yourself
-“I’m Italian"-Melissa snapped-“This is just my face"-That made you laugh. God, that laugh. It should honestly come with a warning label.
Still smiling, you crossed the room and settled back onto the couch beside her.
Close. Then closer. And before Melissa could prepare herself, you curled into her side, resting your head just beneath her shoulder, almost against her chest.
Melissa went rigid. Her entire body locked like she’d been suddenly taxidermied. She had no idea what to do with her hands. One hovered awkwardly over the popcorn bowl. The other remained trapped at her side like it had forgotten how elbows worked. She stole a handful of popcorn just to feel useful.
Beside her, you huffed a quiet laugh.
-“Relax, Lisa"- you whispered. The name melted through her all over again-“It’s just a movie"-Melissa blinked rapidly at the screen, where someone might have been getting murdered or married or solving taxes. Impossible to tell.
Then your hand found hers. Slowly, gently, you guided it behind you. Pressing her palm against the softness of your back through the thin cotton of her shirt.
You shifted closer with a quiet sigh, settling comfortably against her chest like this was the most natural place in the world to be.
Melissa forgot how oxygen worked. Your heartbeat wasn’t loud enough to hear. But yours could absolutely hear hers. Fast and wild and humiliatingly obvious. For one awful second she was certain you’d comment on it.
Instead, you relaxed deeper into her touch. Trusting. Warm. Safe.
Melissa’s fingers twitched uncertainly against your back. Then, cautiously, she let her hand rest there. The tension slowly left your shoulders. A tiny pleased hum escaped you. That sound hit Melissa like a freight train.
And then, to finish her off completely, you murmured sleepily-“There you go"-As if she was the one being soothed.
Melissa stared blankly at the television.
Her hand remained frozen against your back, her whole body buzzing with impossible tenderness. And somewhere beneath the panic, beneath the yearning and the confusion and the sharp terrifying hope of it all, one thought landed with quiet certainty: This felt right. Dangerously, beautifully right.
A few minutes later your breathing softened. Evened out. You had fallen asleep against her. Melissa looked down carefully. Your glasses had slipped crookedly across your nose, your mouth parted slightly in sleep, your hand still loosely tangled with hers. Her chest ached. Not painfully. Just full. Too full.
Very, very gently, she reached up and nudged your glasses off. You stirred just enough to mumble something sleepy and impossible to understand. Then your face tucked instinctively closer against her chest.
Melissa’s entire soul left her body.
And from there, she knew with absolute certainty: She was never recovering from this. Not even a little.
When you woke up the next day, you were cuddle up in the couch, under a warm blanket, when you stretched you noticed the warmth in all the couch, even in the places where your body wasn't reaching, like if she were sleeping by your side all night until recently.
The smell of toast made you look to the kitchen, where the redhead was making breakfast with the same clothes as the day before, she didn't got up to change in the whole night. She could feel you looking, and her head turned to the couch, where your sleepy face was peaking
-"Good morning sleppy head" - she said, a smile plastered on her face, like if she had the best sleep of her life, and the distance from you made her regain her confidence-"We have field trip today" - she said and you blinked a few times, putting on your glasses and yawning. Her perfume was on your clothes and nose, mixing with the smell of toast
-"I'm a chaperone" - you mumbled
-"Yes you are... Come here, get some breakfast. Do you want bacon on your grilled cheese? I'm also making our launches for the trip..."- she said leaving a cup of coffee on the breakfast table just the way you liked it. The moment seemed oddly familiar, like if you did this every morning.
-"Yes please" - you got up from the couch stretching, the t-shirt raised a little exposing your thighs more. Melissa wasn't able to avoid it, her eyes dipped for half a second. Just long enough to catch the soft stretch of your thighs as the oversized shirt rode higher when you lifted your arms above your head.
Then she snapped her gaze back to the frying pan with the kind of violent self-control usually reserved for bomb defusal.
Absolutely not.
It was eight in the morning.
There was coffee brewing, toast popping, and approximately a whole elementary school full of students waiting to be herded through the Franklin Institute in three hours.
This was not the time to have a nervous breakdown over your legs.
Behind her, she heard your soft footsteps crossing the kitchen. Then your chair scraped lightly against the floor as you sat at the table.
Melissa kept her focus aggressively fixed on the grilled cheese. She could feel your eyes on her. Warm and quiet and somehow impossible to ignore.
-“You know"-your sleepy voice said, still rough around the edges from waking up- “most people just say good morning"-
Melissa flipped the sandwich with unnecessary force-“I did say good morning"-she mumbled
-“No, you said good morning sleepyhead in your teacher voice"-you replied
-“That is my normal voice"-
-“It’s your ‘I am barely tolerating your existence but in a charming educational way’ voice"-Melissa turned just enough to level a look at you. You were smiling into your coffee. Hair still messy from sleep, glasses slightly crooked, her Eagles shirt slipping off one shoulder. It should honestly have been illegal to look that soft before nine a.m.
-“I am making you breakfast” - Melissa informed you.
-“That’s true"-you noded
-“And coffee"-she added. You lifted the mug.
-“Perfectly the way I like it"-Your smile widened-“So basically this is wife behavior"-Melissa nearly dropped the spatula.
You laughed immediately, bright and delighted, and Melissa realized with horror that you had absolutely done that on purpose.
-“You did that just to upset me"- She folded her harms, you took another slow sip of coffee, eyes sparkling over the rim.
-“Maybe"-you blinked. Melissa stared at you. Really stared. At the teasing little curve of your mouth. At the way sleep still softened your face. At how comfortable you looked here, in her kitchen, drinking coffee she had made for you like this had been your shared routine forever.
Something inside her chest gave a dangerous little ache.
Because the terrifying part was not that the image felt intimate. It was that it felt normal. Like this was exactly how mornings should look.
You caught her staring. This time, neither of you looked away. The kitchen went still. Only the low hiss of the pan and the soft hum of the coffee maker filled the space between you.
Your expression shifted first. The teasing warmth softened into something quieter. Something thoughtful. Melissa’s pulse kicked hard.
Then your gaze dipped. Briefly. To her mouth. Her breath caught.
When your eyes lifted again, your cheeks had gone pink.
And Melissa knew, with sudden dizzy certainty, that she had not imagined it. You had looked. The same way she looked at you.
The realization hit so hard she almost forgot the sandwich was actively burning. The sharp smell of toast breaking into charcoal jolted her back to reality.
-“Fuck, damn it"- She cursed and you laughed as Melissa lunged for the stove.
-“Oh my God, Lisa"-you liked your lips
-“Not a word"-she said between her teeth
-“That poor sandwich had dreams"-you joked
-“It was distracted"-she replied
-“By what?”-you asked Melissa froze. You smiled into your mug again, deeply pleased with yourself-“You know"-you said lightly-“for someone who claims to be practical, you get flustered very easily"-you were biting your lip behind the mug.
Melissa set the spatula down with deliberate care and turned to face you fully.
Your smile faltered just slightly. Not from fear. From anticipation. Melissa crossed the kitchen slowly.
One step.
Then another.
Until she was standing directly in front of your chair. Close enough that your breath caught. Close enough that she could see the tiny shift in your throat when you swallowed. Your teasing expression had dissolved completely now, replaced by something wide-eyed and careful. Melissa bent slightly at the waist, bracing one hand on the table beside you and the other on the armrest of your chair, locking you against the wall and the breakfast table. Your eyes widened.
-“Still think I’m flustered?”-she asked softly. Your lips parted and you separated your legs to give her more space between them. For one suspended second, neither of you moved.
Melissa could feel your breath against her face. Could smell coffee and sleep and the faint trace of her own perfume still clinging to your hair.
Your hand lifted. Slowly. As if without your permission. Your fingers brushed lightly against the hem of her shirt. And Melissa’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Then your alarm went off. Loud. Violent. Apocalyptic.
You both jumped like the FBI had kicked down the door. The spell shattered instantly.
You stared at each other for half a stunned beat before dissolving into helpless laughter. Real, breathless laughter that bent you both in half.
Melissa straightened, dragging a hand down her face.
-“You and your daughter's timing is criminal"-Still laughing, you fumbled to silence the alarm.
-“Field trip"-you managed, your heart jumping inside your chest. Melissa groaned.
-“Right. Children. Responsibilities. Society.”-You stood quickly, still smiling, and brushed past her toward the hallway.
At the doorway, you glanced back. And there it was again. That little shy smile. The one that looked almost brave.
-“You looked cute when you got jealous last night, by the way"-you bit your lip and Melissa’s soul immediately evacuated her body.
And before she could recover enough to deny it, you disappeared down the hall, laughing softly to yourself.
Leaving Melissa alone in the kitchen, staring after you with her face on fire.
After changing, the morning moved quickly. Too quickly.
The almost-moment in the kitchen still lingered between you like the warmth left behind after someone stepped out of sunlight, impossible to name and even harder to ignore.
Melissa had vanished into her room after your little parting shot about her jealousy, muttering something about “professionalism” and “needing pants that didn’t invite lawsuits.”
You had laughed all the way down the hall.
Now, freshly dressed and still smiling to yourself, you climbed into the passenger seat of Melissa’s car while she loaded lunches and backpacks into the trunk for the field trip, even a few spare jackets for you and Gaia.
The car smelled faintly like her perfume and coffee. Comforting. Familiar.
Without thinking, you reached over and switched on the stereo. Music drifted softly through the speakers. And your breath caught. It was your playlist.
Not technically yours, maybe. But yours enough that you knew every song by heart.
The same soft Spanish ballads you hummed while cooking. The old songs your mother used to sing while cleaning. The silly upbeat tracks Gaia danced to in the kitchen while Melissa pretended to be deeply offended by “all this noise.”
A slow warmth spread through your chest.
Melissa had been listening to your music. Not just tolerating it because you lived together. Choosing it.
You sat there for a moment, smiling helplessly at the windshield.
Then your eyes drifted to the rearview mirror. And stilled. There, hanging from it, was the little necklace the three of you had made together one rainy evening when Gaia had insisted “family craft night” was a real and mandatory event.
Three unevenly painted beads strung crookedly on cheap cord.
One red.
One blue.
One yellow.
Melissa had rolled her eyes dramatically the entire time, insisting she had “actual adult responsibilities,” while carefully threading her bead anyway. You had assumed Gaia had tucked it somewhere afterward. Apparently not. Apparently Melissa had hung it here. Where she would see it every day.
Your chest tightened.
Slowly, your gaze moved to the back seat. The booster seat was there. Not the old one from your car. A new one. Installed neatly, securely. Ready. As if there had never been any question that Gaia belonged there. And tucked into the side pocket beside it were some pieces of paper, crayons and her favorite cookies, the exact brand she loved, the ones Melissa always pretended she bought “purely for emergency sugar regulation.”
Your throat tightened unexpectedly. Because none of this had been necessary.
Melissa had never mentioned buying the seat.
Had never pointed out the cookies.
Had never said look how much I thought of your daughter when you weren’t watching.
She had simply done it.
Quietly.
Practically.
The way she did everything that mattered.
A shy smile spread across your lips before you could stop it.
The driver’s side door opened. Melissa slid into the seat beside you, one hand immediately reaching to adjust the rearview mirror. Then she noticed your expression.
Her brow furrowed. -“Everything okay?”-You looked at her. Really looked. At the sharp line of her jaw still softened by sleep. At the tiny crease between her brows when she worried. At the red hair she’d pinned back too quickly, one stubborn strand already escaping.
And suddenly your heart felt impossibly full. You smiled-“Everything is perfect"-Melissa blinked. The answer clearly startled her. A faint flush climbed her neck.
-“Well"-She cleared her throat and reached for her seatbelt-“That’s… statistically unlikely, but good.”-You laughed softly.
The music continued humming between you. One of your favorite songs. One you had played absentmindedly while making dinner just last week. Melissa had claimed not to know it. Yet here it was. Waiting.
You tilted your head-“You know this one?”-
Melissa visibly stiffened-“No.”-
-"It’s playing" - you stated
-“That proves nothing"-she replied. You smiled wider.
-“Lisa...”-you lifted an eyebrow, doing the same face that you did when you knew your daughter was lying. Her ears turned pink.
You knew then. And the realization sent something bright and tender blooming through your ribs.
She had been listening because it reminded her of home. Of your home. The one the two of you had accidentally built together in quiet pieces.
You reached across the center console before you could overthink it. Melissa froze as your fingers brushed hers. Then you gently turned her hand palm-up and laced your fingers through.
Simple.
Easy.
Like you had every right.
Melissa’s breath caught.
Her eyes darted to your joined hands and stayed there.
For one impossible second, she didn’t move.
Didn’t pull away.
Didn’t breathe.
Then, slowly, carefully, her fingers tightened around yours.
Your pulse leapt.
When she finally looked at you, her expression was so open it stole the air from your lungs.
Soft.
Hopeful.
Terrified.
Like she was standing on the edge of something enormous and beautiful and had no idea whether jumping would save her or ruin her.
So you smiled gently and squeezed her hand once. A promise. I’m here. Melissa swallowed hard.
Then, because she was still Melissa, she ruined the moment immediately by muttering:
-“If Gaia sees this, we’re never hearing the end of it"-You laughed, bright and helpless.
You let go of her hand so she could start the car or you would be late to the field trip.
As soon as you arrived to the house of Gaia's friend and got out of the car, the door flew open and your daughter ran outside, with the backpack bigger than her, bouncing at her back and her teddy bear on one hand.
-“Miss Melissa!”-Gaia barreled into her legs the second she stepped outside the door. Melissa staggered, laughing.
-“What happened to hello?”-she looked down at your daughter that was clinging at her legs like a monkey.
-“This is hello"-she said with a bright exited smile
-“That seems legally questionable"-the redhead said, your daughter grinned and squeezed tighter.
The mom of the other kid also came out of the house
-“She’s been waiting by the window for twenty minutes"-she confessed. Heat climbed Melissa’s neck.
-“That’s ridiculous"-she muttered.
-“She loves you"-you said, so simply, like it was obvious. Like of course someone would. Melissa looked at your eyes and then looked away too quickly.
Her exes had liked pieces of her. The polished teacher voice. The sharp eyeliner. The version of Melissa that fit nicely into photos and knew when to laugh at their jokes. They had never liked her whole. Not the frantic overthinking. Not the stress-cleaning. Not the way she cried at dog food commercials and denied it aggressively.
But you noticed things.
Like how Melissa got headaches after long staff meetings, so you would silently set tea beside her grading papers.
Like how Melissa forgot to eat when she was very stressed, so you would leave little containers in the fridge labeled "Eat this or I tell Barbara" .
You always thanked Melissa for everything, looking directly at her like gratitude was something sacred.
It unsettled the redhead. Because no one had ever treated her kindness like it mattered.
-"Mama!"- Your daughter broke the trance that the redhead was under, letting her legs go to hug yours, you picked her up and she squeezed your cheeks excited-"I missed you Mama!"
-"I missed you my bebé" - you kissed her forehead with your cheeks squeezed-"Did you had fun?" - your daughter nodded-"Ready to go to the museum?"-you asked and your daughter let your face go to stretch her hands to Melissa, the redhead picked her up smiling at how confort your daughter felt with her.
-"Let's gooo" - your daughter screamed almost in the ear of the redhead.
After everyone got into the car, including Gaia's friend, Melissa drove to the school where the bus and the rest of the students and staff were waiting.
Once in the school, while you waited for the rest of the students to arrive, your daughter and her fried were showing you all the drawings that were outside the classroom that they had made that week, explaining you each piece of the story they had read with Melissa.
Meanwhile, the redhead was inside the classroom, she was sitting at her desk with her head between her hands looking at you and sighing.
A familiar pair of sensible heels stopped outside her door
-“Melissa"-Melissa closed her eyes. Of course. Slowly, she looked up, straightening her posture. Barbara stood in the doorway, perfectly composed, arms folded, expression mild enough to be dangerous.
-“Yes?”-Barbara’s eyes drifted deliberately over Melissa’s rigid posture, the death grip she had on her red pen, and the half-graded worksheet she had been staring at for seven straight minutes.
-“No, you’re avoiding me"-the eldest said and Melissa blinked. Barbara gave her that look. The one that made lying feel like an insult to the entire institution of education.
-“I’m not avoiding you..."-Barbara waited. Melissa wilted almost instantly-“…A little"-Barbara stepped inside and closed the classroom door behind her. The soft click sounded terrifyingly final. Then she crossed the room and sat in one of the student desks, folding her hands neatly in her lap. The posture of someone fully prepared to wait all night. Melissa hated that posture.
-“What?”-she snapped. Barbara tilted her head.
-“Tell me what’s wrong"-she asked
-“Nothing’s wrong"-the redhead replied, a bit too quick. Barbara’s eyebrows rose. Melissa groaned-“Please don’t do the face"-
-“What face?”-
-“The disappointed church lady face"-Barbara’s expression did not change.
-“Melissa"-And just like that, Melissa cracked. Not dramatically. No tears. No great collapse. Just the quiet surrender of someone exhausted from holding too much inside. She dropped her pen onto the desk and dragged both hands down her face.
-“I think I’m in love with her.”-The words hit the empty classroom and stayed there. Real now. Heavy. Irrevocable. Barbara was quiet for a moment.
-“Well..."-Barbara said and Melissa stared.
-“Well?”-the redhead asked. Barbara nodded thoughtfully.
-“That explains the eye twitching" - she pointed at her friend. Melissa made a strangled sound.
-“That’s all you have to say?”-
-“No"-Barbara’s expression softened. And suddenly she looked less like a colleague and more like exactly what she had quietly become over the years: someone Melissa trusted enough to break in front of-“You love a good woman"- Barbara said gently-“A kind woman. A hardworking mother doing her best for her child"-
-“That’s the problem"-Melissa swallowed hard.
-“That sounds like several excellent qualities"-Barbara frowned.
-“You don’t understand"-Melissa stood abruptly and began pacing-“She lives in my house because I offered her help. If I tell her how I feel, what is she supposed to think?”-Barbara’s face shifted with understanding. And that was somehow worse. Melissa laughed bitterly-“Exactly"-The words spilled out now, sharp and frantic-“What if she thinks I only offered because I wanted something? What if she thinks every decent thing I’ve done was some kind of manipulation? What if she feels cornered because she can’t afford to leave yet?”-the redhead was spiraling and Barbara listened quietly.
When Melissa finally stopped pacing, breathless and ashamed, Barbara spoke.
-“Melissa”-Her voice was very soft-“You love her enough to worry about protecting her dignity before your own heart"-Melissa looked away. Barbara smiled-“That does not sound like manipulation to me"-
Melissa’s throat tightened-“She deserves to feel safe"-she whispered.
-“She does"-Barbara rose and crossed the room, stopping close enough to rest a hand lightly on Melissa’s shoulder-“And perhaps”-she said gently- “you should trust her enough to decide for herself what your kindness means"-Melissa’s breath caught. Barbara squeezed her shoulder once. Then her voice turned teasingly dry-“Also, Janine says the entire school has placed bets on how long it will take you two to kiss"-
Melissa recoiled in horror-“What?”-Barbara’s smile widened.
-“Apparently Ava is running the pool"-Melissa stared at her. Absolutely scandalized. Barbara patted her shoulder and headed for the door. At the threshold, she glanced back.
-“For what it is worth, child…”-Melissa looked up. Barbara smiled warmly-“She looks at you the same way"-And then she left. Leaving Melissa alone in the quiet classroom, heart pounding painfully against her ribs.
“Trust her enough to let her choose.” Barbara’s words followed Melissa like a second heartbeat.
Steady.
Impossible to ignore.
For several minutes after Barbara left, Melissa remained frozen behind her desk, staring blankly at the spelling test in front of her without seeing a single word.
"Trust her enough to let her choose"
It sounded so simple when Barbara said it. Of course it did. Barbara said everything like it had already been settled somewhere in the universe and the rest of them were simply late to understanding it.
Melissa, meanwhile, had built an entire personality around overthinking herself into emotional paralysis. So naturally, she spent the next five minutes trying and failing to regulate her pulse.
When she finally stepped back into the hallway, she still felt completely rattled.
And then she saw you.
You were crouched near the classroom wall beside Gaia and her friend, carefully helping tape one of their drawings back into place after it had slipped crooked.
Your hair had fallen forward, brushing your cheek as you laughed at something Gaia was excitedly explaining.
The morning sun spilled through the tall school windows, catching your face in warm gold.
You looked peaceful. Like this belonged to you. Like maybe, somehow, this life did too.
Melissa stopped walking.
Then you looked up. And the second your eyes landed on her, your whole face changed. It was subtle. Tiny. The kind of thing most people would miss completely.
But now Barbara’s voice echoed in Melissa’s mind. "She looks at you the same way".
And suddenly Melissa saw it. That unconscious softening. That quiet little warmth blooming in your expression. The same look she’d caught herself wearing when she thought no one was watching. It hit her so hard she actually forgot how to breathe for half a second.
Your smile deepened. Warm and easy and entirely hers.
-“Lisa?”-The nickname landed differently now. Not casual. Not accidental. Chosen. Affection wrapped carefully inside four tiny letters-“You okay?”-Melissa stared at you.
And for the first time, instead of panicking and looking away, she let herself smile back. A real smile. Soft enough that your expression flickered with surprise. You blinked. Like maybe you had never seen that particular smile directed at you before.
And then Gaia, tiny menace that she was, pointed dramatically between the two of you and announced to her friend-“See? That’s the face"-Both you and Melissa froze. Then turned bright red in perfect synchronization.
Gaia’s friend gasped like she’d just witnessed a major historical event-“Oh my God, you’re right"-
Before either adult could process that horror, a voice materialized from nowhere.
-“Well, this is the easiest money I’ve ever made"-Melissa physically flinched. Of course. There, leaning against the classroom doorway like gossip itself had manifested a body, stood Ava Coleman. Her grin was pure delighted chaos. She patted Melissa hard enough on the back to nearly knock the air out of her.
-“I knew I was right. Never bet against unresolved lesbian tension, that’s rule number one of passive income"-
-“What?”-Melissa whipped around, scandalized. Ava laughed. You had already stood up, brows knitting in confusion as you looked between them.
-“Bet?”- you asked slowly. Melissa’s soul attempted immediate evacuation. Ava looked delighted.
-“Oh, honey..."-the principal said softly
-“Don’t"-Melissa hissed. Too late.
Ava turned toward you with the theatrical solemnity of someone announcing lottery numbers-“The entire school has been financially invested in when this one finally admits she’s obsessed with—”-she said until the redhead interrupted her
-“Okay!”- Melissa barked, lunging forward so fast she nearly tripped over Gaia's backpack. She physically shoved Ava sideways toward the wall. Ava cackled. Melissa’s face was now approximately the color of a stop sign.
-“Do not listen to her"-she snapped, spinning toward you with the wild-eyed desperation of someone trying to undo a car crash with positive thinking. You were staring at her. Wide-eyed. Your cheeks pink.
But not upset. If anything…You looked almost shy. Melissa’s heart stumbled.
-“Lisa..."-you said softly. Her pulse roared.
-“Don’t"-she said and you smiled. And whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t the quiet fondness in your eyes when you said-“You’re kind of cute when you panic"-Gaia made a sound so loud and triumphant it should have required a permit.
Ava doubled over laughing.
Somewhere down the hall, Melissa was certain she heard Janine shriek “I TOLD YOU SO.”
Melissa closed her eyes. This was it. This was how she died.
When she opened them again, you were still smiling at her. Still soft. Still there.
And instead of terror, something steadier settled into her chest. Barbara’s voice returned one last time. "Trust her enough to let her choose"
So Melissa inhaled. Looked directly into your eyes. And made a decision. She stepped closer. Not enough to alarm anyone. Just enough that the air changed. Enough that your breath caught.
Then, very quietly, so only you could hear, she said-“After the field trip… we need to talk..."-
Your eyes widened. For one impossible second, Melissa thought she’d ruined everything. Then your smile returned. Small. Certain. Hopeful enough to nearly stop her heart.
-“Okay" - you whispered.
And when the bus driver shouted for everyone to board, neither of you moved right away. Just one suspended moment. Two people standing on the edge of finally choosing each other.
While behind you, Ava quietly whispered to herself-“God, I’m so good at this"-
And somewhere nearby, Barbara smiled without looking up from her coffee, because she knew that some lessons, after all, were worth waiting for.
You cleared your throat and broke eye contact, observing how your daughter and all the kids ran outside getting in line to board the bus
-"I should... Count my students" - Melissa said and you nodded.
After every kid was inside the busses, you looked where to sit, finding the only empty sit beside Melissa, your daughter sitting behind her with her friend and smiling mischievously. You laughed low and sat beside the redhead
-"Jesus, this buss is freezing, aren't you cold?" - you asked to Melissa and Gaia, blowing hot air into your hands, your daughter denied with her head. Melissa immediately took off her eagles hoodie and gave it to you, getting her other coat from the backpack she had prepared earlier to use herself. You put the hoddie, already warm because of the redhead's body and smelling like her, you smiled peacefully
-"Thanks Lisa..."-you lifted your hand and the redhead froze, begging her Nana that was on heaven that you didn't attempted to kiss her on the bus full of students and people that liked to laugh on her behalf. Melissa’s entire body locked. Not stiff with discomfort. Stiff with the kind of panic that comes when every nerve abruptly decides to become very, very awake. Your fingers had barely brushed her hair, just enough to tuck the loose strand back into place, but the warmth of it lingered against her temple like it had left a mark. Then your head settled against her shoulder with impossible trust, casual and unguarded, as though this were the most natural thing in the world. As though she were. For a moment she forgot how to breathe.
Behind her, Gaia made a tiny sound that was half gasp, half delighted squeak. Her friend immediately slapped a hand over Gaia’s mouth, both of them vibrating with barely-contained chaos.
Melissa did not turn around. If she acknowledged them, she would combust on impact. One thing was the closeness at home and the other in front of everyone.
The bus engine rumbled to life beneath you, a low vibration through the floor. Outside, teachers called final headcounts, students shouted over one another, backpacks thumped into overhead racks. And somehow, inside the little bubble of your weight against her shoulder, everything felt strangely quiet.
-“Comfortable?”- she managed, her voice suspiciously steady considering her internal state resembled a cathedral fire. You made a soft sound of approval, eyes still closed.
-“Mm. Very"-That should not have affected her as much as it did. Melissa swallowed and stared rigidly ahead, clutching the strap of her bag like it had personally promised to keep her alive.
Then the bus lurched forward. You shifted instinctively with the movement, your hand catching lightly against her arm for balance before settling there, getting closer to her.
Melissa’s soul briefly exited her body to file a complaint.
She heard Barbara’s voice somewhere in her memory, smooth and merciless: "Trust her enough to let her choose"
The words hit differently now. Because you had chosen this. Not dramatically. Not for show. Just this simple, unconscious closeness. Like your body already knew something your mind hadn’t admitted yet.
Melissa looked down. Your face was peaceful in sleep or near-sleep, softened at the edges, your breath warm through the fabric of her blouse. A few strands of hair had slipped over your forehead. Without thinking, Melissa lifted her hand. Her fingers hovered there. One second. Two. Then very carefully, as though touching something sacred and fragile, she brushed the strands away.
You smiled in your sleep. Not awake enough to tease her. Not aware enough to perform. Just a small, honest smile. Melissa’s heart gave one violent, traitorous thud.
Behind her, Gaia made another muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like I knew it.
Melissa didn’t look back. Instead, after a long hesitation, she let her head tilt. Just slightly.
Until it rested, feather-light, against yours.
And for the first time that morning, she let herself stop thinking.
You didn't fell asleep, not completely, you were just relaxed against the redhead, surrounded by her perfume and her warmth.
When the bus reached the museum and came to a stop, you let out a quiet hum, wanting to enjoy her warmth a little more but opening your eyes because you knew she had to help the kids, and you had to do that too.
The low hum against her shoulder sent a shiver up Melissa’s spine. Not because of surprise. Because she realized, with sharp and immediate clarity, that you had been awake.
Maybe not fully. Maybe drifting in that soft space between sleep and awareness. But awake enough to make that sound, awake enough to linger there for one selfish little second longer before lifting your head. And that meant you had felt it. The way she’d leaned against you. The way her fingers had brushed your hair from your face. Melissa’s pulse stumbled.
You blinked slowly, lashes catching the pale morning light filtering through the frosted bus windows. For a second, you looked adorably disoriented, your cheek still faintly warm from where it had rested against her shoulder. Then recognition flickered in your eyes. The museum. The children. Responsibility descending like an overly punctual crow. You let out a tiny sigh, reluctant and soft, and straightened in your seat.
-“Right"-you murmured, voice rough with sleep-“Civilization"- The word made Melissa’s mouth twitch before she could stop it.
Behind you, Gaia practically launched herself forward between the seats, grinning with enough force to power a small city-“You were cuddling"-she said lifting her eyebrows
-“Good morning to you too"- Melissa said flatly.
Gaia’s friend leaned in beside her, eyes sparkling with scandalized delight-“For like, the whole ride"-
-“We observed respectfully"- Gaia added.
-“You absolutely did not"-you said
-“We absolutely did"-they crossed her harms. You laughed under your breath, rubbing sleep from your eyes-“Well. Sounds like we’ve created eyewitnesses"-Melissa turned to you so fast she nearly got whiplash. You were smiling. Not teasing exactly. Just warm, amused, and entirely too aware. That look did dangerous things to her nervous system.
The bus doors hissed open. Instantly the fragile little cocoon of warmth shattered into motion. Children unbuckled themselves in a blur of chatter and backpacks, teachers calling reminders over the noise.
-“If anyone licks a museum exhibit, I’m resigning!”-another teacher said.
You stood, stretching your arms overhead with a sleepy groan that absolutely should not have looked that attractive. Melissa hated the universe a little. Then your hand dropped to her arm. A light squeeze. Brief enough to be innocent. Intentional enough to not be.
-“Thanks for sharing your warmth, Lisa"-you said quietly, leaning just close enough that only she could hear-"You smell nice" - you kissed her cheek. And then, before her brain could restart, you stepped into the aisle to help herd children toward the exit. Melissa sat frozen. Her face was burning, specially where your lips kissed. Her heart was attempting escape through her throat.
Behind her, Gaia sighed the long-suffering sigh of someone forced to watch two adults catastrophically fail at being honest-“Unbelievable"- she muttered-“They’re in love and somehow still bad at it"-she said exiting the bus with her friend.
When the brain of the redhead started working again, she exited the bus checking to have all her students with her, giving each one of them a badge with their name an a phone number to call in case they get lost in one of the exhibits during the trip.
Melissa told herself she was counting students. That was her job, after all. Thirty-two children on her class. Two assistant chaperones. One field trip itinerary. One emergency contact folder tucked beneath her arm. Very professional things. Perfectly respectable things to focus on. Instead, her eyes kept betraying her. Again and again they found you at the front of the group, moving between the children with that easy brightness that seemed to gather them like sunlight gathers flowers. You pointed things out with delighted little gestures, crouching whenever one of them had a question, laughing softly when Gaia insisted she had personally discovered an ancient fossil display despite the enormous sign above it reading CRETACEOUS EXHIBIT, ESTABLISHED 2009.
And you were still wearing her hoodie. Melissa’s hoodie. The dark green fabric hung just slightly loose on you, the sleeves covering part of your hands. The hood rested against your back, your hair spilling over it, and the sight hit her with a ridiculous little burst of possessive warmth she was absolutely not prepared to examine. It looked right on you. Just like the t-shirt that you had stole from her did. Not borrowed. Not temporary. As though it had always belonged there. As if you did.
The realization landed so suddenly Melissa nearly missed when one of her students tugged her coat sleeve-“Miss Melissa?”-She blinked down. It was Oliver, badge crooked against his tiny jacket.
-“Yes?”-
He pointed very seriously at you-“Is Miss Y/N your girlfriend?”-Melissa stopped walking so abruptly that three children behind her nearly caused a pileup.
-“What?”-she asked
Oliver frowned with the grave patience of a child explaining obvious science to a confused adult.
-“She kissed your face. My mom only kisses people she’s dating. Except my grandma but that’s different because she makes lasagna"-A few nearby students perked up instantly, their little gossip-radar activating like synchronized satellites.
-“She did kiss her!”-another screamed
-“I saw!”-one lifted their hand
-“On the bus?”-they started to gossip
-"Yes"-all the small voices started to pile up
-“Miss Melissa got kissed!”-they started chanting and Melissa’s soul attempted a tactical retreat.
-“She kissed my cheek"-she hissed. Oliver looked unconvinced.
-“That still counts"-he lift his little shoulders
-“It absolutely does not"-she replied.
From the front of the line, your voice floated back, warm with amusement.
-“What absolutely does not?”-you asked. Every child within range swiveled toward you with the delighted horror of tiny traitors discovering fresh material.
Melissa considered faking her own death.
You had turned halfway around, one brow lifted, her hoodie swallowing your hands as you tilted your head. The museum’s amber lights caught in your eyes. Melissa forgot every defense she’d ever developed.
Oliver answered for her, loudly and VERY helpfully-“Miss Melissa says cheek kisses don’t count!”-he pointed at the redhead. The silence that followed could have been displayed as a historical artifact.
You looked at Oliver. Then at Melissa. Then your mouth curved. Slowly. Deliberately.
Like dawn arriving with suspiciously excellent timing.
-“Is that so?”- you asked. Melissa’s pulse detonated. And before she could form even a single coherent protest, you stepped back toward the end of the line.
The children collectively leaned in. Even Gaia looked impressed.
You stopped directly in front of Melissa, close enough that she could smell the faint trace of her own perfume still clinging to the hoodie wrapped around you.
Your gaze dropped to her lips for the briefest fraction of a second. Then rose to her eyes.
-“Good to know"- you said softly. And with the entire class watching in breathless suspense, you leaned down just enough for your lips to brush the other cheek.
The opposite side.
Perfectly even.
Perfectly calm.
Perfectly devastating.
Then you smiled like you hadn’t just set her entire circulatory system on fire and turned back toward the exhibits.
-“All right, explorers"- you called brightly-"Who wants to see the dinosaur skeleton?”-The children erupted into cheers and stampeded after you.
Melissa remained frozen in place, both cheeks burning now. Behind her, Gaia patted her arm with deep sympathy.
-“She got both sides" - she said solemnly. Then she skipped after the others, leaving Melissa alone to wonder if spontaneous human combustion was, in fact, medically documented.
After watching half of the exhibits, you all stopped to have lunch on the park outside.
Melisa gave Gaia her lunch and she went to sit with her other classmates, you sat with the rest of the chaperones and teachers, by the redhead's side.
-"Here you go" - she gave you the lunch she had carefully prepared for you and you smiled
-"Thanks Lisa" - you said brushing her hand briefly, she blushed but didn't looked at your eyes. You opened the tupperware smelling the delicious food smiling, it's the same smell of Melissa's house, that mix of spices and love-"It smells amazing, I'm so hungry" - you said happily but frowned when you saw how Melissa avoided your eyes. You placed your hand on her knee and she straightened up nervously-"Hey... I'm sorry" - you took your hand away immediately-"Look, I'm sorry if I overstepped earlier... I was just flirting, like barely, I thought we were okey doing that... But I understand if in public I overstepped, this is the first time that I tried something like this on public and I get if you don't like..."-you explained nervously, the last thing you wanted was to ruin things with her
-"What?" - She looked at your eyes a bit lost and frowned- "Wait... I'm not upset, I'm sorry... It's just that my mind is working overtime today" - she laughed nervously and placed her hand on your knee this time, her hand was warm and your eyes darted to it. She blushed and she took her hand away
-"Hey... It's Okey, it's just me Lisa" - you rested your head on her shoulder smiling and looking at Gaia.
-"I know it's you... That's the thing, that's is you... You make me nervous and you make my mind spin" - she explained nervously.
For a moment, the sounds of lunch around you seemed to blur into something distant.
Children laughing across the grass.
Wrappers crinkling.
Teachers chatting nearby about schedules and attendance sheets and whether the museum gift shop was ethically designed to bankrupt chaperones.
It all faded beneath the quiet weight of Melissa’s words. You stayed very still against her shoulder. Not because you were uncomfortable. Because if you moved too quickly, this might vanish like steam off morning glass. Slowly, you lifted your head to look at her.
Melissa was staring determinedly at the park ahead, cheeks burning crimson, every line of her posture screaming I would like to be buried immediately, thank you. It was devastatingly adorable.
And very, very brave. Your mouth curved into something softer than your usual smile.
-“Lisa"- you said quietly. That got her attention. She turned, nervous and uncertain and so achingly earnest it squeezed at something deep in your chest. You reached for her hand. This time carefully. Slow enough for her to pull away if she wanted. She didn't. Her fingers trembled as they settled against yours, but she let you lace them together there on the grass between you. The contact sent a warm little jolt up your arm. You smiled.
-“Well"-you murmured, your thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles-“that’s wildly convenient"-
Melissa blinked-“What?”-You leaned closer, lowering your voice just enough to make the moment feel like a secret folded between you.
-“Because you make me nervous too"-Her breath caught. You gave a tiny laugh, shy enough to be real-“I’ve just had more practice pretending otherwise"-The expression on her face shifted all at once.
Shock first.
Then disbelief.
Then something bright and almost unbearably tender.
-“You do not get nervous"-she whispered and gave you a little soft push. You snorted softly-“There’s something wrong with you”-she said softly.
You blinked-"Excuse me?”-She squeezed your hand.
-“You’re wearing my hoodie, eating the lunch I made for you, publicly ruining my ability to function…”-Her smile widened just a little-“And somehow that’s still not enough for you that you have to keep teasing me?”-You laughed, bright and helpless.
-“No"- you admitted smiling-"Never, I will tease you for as long I live" - you made an evil laugh. Melissa’s cheeks deepened in color. Then, with a courage that looked newly born and slightly terrified, she leaned in. You stopped laughing, thinking that she would kiss you in front of the whole school.
She leaned more, just enough for her lips to brush your cheek. Soft. Quick.Certain.
When she pulled back, she looked as shocked as if someone else had possessed her body and made the executive decision.
The world stopped for a second.
And Melissa, face blazing but smiling, finally met your eyes without looking away.
-“There"- she whispered-“Now we’re even"-you rolled your eyes blushing and this time you pushed her gently
-"Asshole" - you whispered blushed, filling your mouth with food and she laughed
-"Language! They are children present!" - she joked and you rolled your eyes again
-"You curse more than me" - you replied - "and by the way, that one doesn't count as a kiss"
Melissa froze. Then her eyes narrowed.
A dangerous little spark lit behind them, the kind that usually preceded one of her devastatingly precise comebacks.
Around you, lunch continued in cheerful chaos.
Gaia was trying to trade apple slices for someone’s pudding cup with all the ruthless efficiency of a tiny stockbroker. A few teachers nearby were deep in debate over whether the museum café’s coffee counted as a human rights violation.
And right there in the middle of it, Melissa turned fully toward you, one brow arching.
-“That one doesn’t count?”-she repeated. You kept eating, very deliberately casual, though your ears had gone pink.
-“Nope"- She stared. You chewed with theatrical innocence-“Seemed more like… polite acknowledgment"-Her mouth fell open.
-“Polite acknowledgment?”-she asked
-“Mm-hm"-You nodded sagely and took another bite of the lunch she’d made, which was frankly excellent and only strengthened your courage-“Very tasteful. Strong technique. Respectable cheek contact. But not enough emotional commitment to qualify"-Melissa looked personally betrayed by the audacity.
-“You are impossible"-she murmured
-“And yet"-you said sweetly-"you packed me lunch"-The color in her face deepened. You smiled, victorious. Then Melissa did something alarming. She smiled back.
Not flustered. Not embarrassed. Sharp. Calculated. The kind of smile generals probably wore right before sieges.
Your confidence wobbled-“Lisa?”-She stood in one smooth motion, brushing imaginary grass from her skirt.
-“Gaia"- she called lightly. Your daughter looked up instantly.
-“Yes?”-she asked
-“Would you and your friends like five extra minutes in the gift shop after the next exhibit?”-the redhead asked and Gaia’s eyes widened like someone had just offered her a small kingdom.
-“YES"-she jumped exited and Melissa smiled serenely.
-“Wonderful. Then I’ll need you to keep the other children occupied for just a moment when we head back inside"-she explained. Gaia looked between the two of you. Then slowly, with the dawning expression of a child witnessing elite tactical warfare, she grinned.
-“Oh"-yor daughter smiled and walked away. You frowned.
-“What does that mean?”-you asked, neither of them answered. Which was deeply concerning.
Melissa sat back down beside you with impossible composure and resumed eating her lunch.
You stared. She ignored you. Two could apparently play this game, and Melissa had just unlocked her final form. The next twenty minutes were agony. She acted completely normal. Too normal.
She chatted with the other teachers, reminded students to finish their lunches, even laughed at some joke Barbara made from across the lawn.
Not one glance in your direction. Not one blush. Not one stammer. You were unraveling.
By the time lunch ended and everyone began filing back toward the museum entrance, your nerves were fizzing like live wires.
Something was coming.
You could feel it.
Gaia caught your eye as she passed and gave you a thumbs up that somehow felt threatening.
You barely had time to process that before Melissa appeared at your side. Silent as snowfall. Her fingers curled lightly around the sleeve of her hoodie where it hung on your wrist. You turned toward her.
-“What are you…”-She rose onto her toes looking at your eyes, because of the high heels she never took off, she was a bit taller than you-"Lisa..."-she huged you by your waist, pulling you closer to her body, softly and carefully, involuntarily making you dip a little and kissed you.
Not your cheek.
Not a teasing little brush of contact.
Your mouth.
Soft and warm and deliberate, lasting just long enough for your brain to spectacularly short-circuit.
Then she pulled back.
Barely an inch.
Close enough that her breath still ghosted across your lips.
Her face was crimson, but her eyes were bright with triumph.
-“That"- she whispered, voice trembling with adrenaline and satisfaction-"counts"-And then she turned and walked calmly toward the museum doors like she hadn’t just set the entire universe on fire.
You remained rooted to the path.
Absolutely motionless.
Blue-screened beyond recovery.
Behind you, Gaia’s delighted shriek split the afternoon air-“SHE GOT YOU MAMA!"-
You stood there for a few minutes, your fingers went to your mouth and you could feel the sticky of Melissa's lipstick there. The kiss was practically a peck, no tongue or anything involved, but it burned, it burned where she hold your waist and it burned where her lips touched. A shiver run trough your body, like if not having her close made the world 10 degrees colder.
-"Girl! Come on, come inside! We need to know details to see who won the bet!" - Ava's voice brought you back to reality and you put the hood of the hoddie on and your hands in your pockets, turning impossible red and walking inside the museum, not being able to control the little smile on your lips.
You had always thought Melissa was practical.
It had seemed obvious at first.
She was all sharp blazers and sharper timing. The kind of woman who remembered deadlines without checking calendars, who alphabetized student emergency forms and somehow made even reprimands sound elegant. She wore heels to field trips, for God’s sake. Practicality had seemed stitched into her like the clean seams of her coats.
It had intimidated you a little, if you were honest.
Practical people didn’t make room for chaos.
And you had arrived in her life carrying an entire weather system.
A daughter with scraped knees and loud opinions. Half-unpacked boxes. Exhaustion stitched behind your eyes. A smile you used too easily to hide how tired you were.
You had assumed Melissa tolerated you the way practical people tolerated storms. Patiently. Carefully. Waiting for the skies to clear.
But somewhere between shared dinners and sleepy late-night conversations in the kitchen, between Gaia absentmindedly calling her family and Melissa pretending not to hear because the truth of it made her eyes go soft, you had realized something startling: You had been completely wrong.
Practical people did not fall for their tenants.
They did not blush when you stole bites from their plate.
They did not secretly pack extra food because they’d noticed you skipped breakfast.
They did not lend you hoodies and then stare when they looked right on your body.
They definitely did not kiss single mothers outside museums while thirty-two children nearly lost their minds in the background.
And Melissa, apparently, was not practical at all.
Many days passed as you waited to hear from your lover. Playing the game of tag was her favorite and it always put you in a funk. A funk you were desperate to get out of, so you played along with. Mindlessly you chased after her, only for a few seconds of pure bliss you received when you caught up.
Once she had you, she would pull away and make you fetch once more. There was an endless chain you had become a link to and couldn't detach yourself from for very long. One day too long and you became sick. Like a cold blooded reptile you had difficulties finding comfort without the warmth of something, or someone enveloping you.
So you put up with it all. Melissa Schemmenti was a catch and you would be foolish to give it all up just because you couldn't tie her down. However naive it seemed, you knew you had her. She didn't see other people and only really spent time with you or at work. While she didn’t explicitly say so, you knew your relationship with the complex woman was exclusive.
Countless nights were spent with you on your knees, bending to her will, begging her to let you in. She was good at teasing you just enough to keep you intrigued, but not enough to see her deeply vulnerable.
“Please, Melissa. I want to be with you.” You pleaded and she just smirked in pity before brushing your cheek softly.
“I like you hon, but this is just... I don’t do the serious thing.” She quipped back, a different form of the same excuse she gave every time.
“We have been seeing each other for almost a year.” You giggled awkwardly and she pushed her fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear.
“It has been a wonderful time, why mess that up hmm?” she furrowed her brows and you huffed. It was worth a shot even if you knew she would never cave.
That conversation had occurred in some variation many times, every few months there would be a night that was spent in one another arms, laughing, chatting, and being completely normal with one another.
One odd question though and Melissa was clammed up and changing the subject. You had managed to keep a mental file of things you could, or shouldn't bring up.
She loved to talk about her culture, but hated to discuss her family. If you mentioned her sexy attire she would blush, but anything that would give hint to her age and she would pass over it like it was never spoken. Worst of all though, any talks of past romances were off limits. If you mentioned an old boyfriend or partner she would get jealous and quiet, and if you asked about her past lovers she would shoot daggers and scold you for bringing it up.
You had managed to learn of her divorce from Barb, a secret conversation with the righteous woman that you held close to your heart. It was the only time you learned something so personal about the redhead and it pained you that she wasn’t the one to tell you, to trust you with that information. Barbara explained the messiness, the fact that he had cheated on her, the way it broke Melissa for a while.
She even hinted to another man Melissa had begun to see after years of solidarity. Though it didn’t last for very long and only ended because he had proposed to her and she fled.
So much back and forth of this same routine and yet you loved her with your whole heart. You knew deep down she cared and wanted something real but was too ruined to accept she deserved a love like yours.
As you laid on your bed, half naked and staring at the ceiling you let out a bored huff. Your baby hairs tickled your face as they danced in the draft of the fan. Rain pattered against the window as the sounds of the gentle drops suddenly fell in sync with a ping from your phone. With lighting speed you sat up and lifted the device to illuminate your face in the dim room.
You frowned when you saw it was just a random email notification and you kicked your foot slightly. Before your pouting could grow your phone screen shifted and the familiar name popped up. You sat up fully and cleared your throat before answering.
“Hello?” you said non-chalantly with a small grin.
“What are you doing?” The woman asked deeply over the line and you bit your lip.
“Nothing, I’m home. In bed.” You teased and she hummed, causing butterflies to fill your stomach.
“Do you want to come out with me? I need a plus one.” She asked and you paused to weigh out your options.
You had gone out with her many times before, enjoyed her friends, and loved to dance with them all, but you hated not being able to hold her hand or dance softly with her. Still, you knew deep down you would always say yes to the woman. Regardless of how the night was spent it would always end at her place, entangled with the fiery woman.
The notion of being her plus one was new. You had gone to events with her before but only as her friend. It was a step forward you were more than ready to take, but part of you worried it was just a show Melissa had to put on.
“That depends, do I get at least one dance with you?” You said softly and you could hear as she sucked in a breath and contemplated an answer.
“And only you, just one Melissa.” you whined out and she grunted a laugh.
“Fine. I’ll be there in a half hour.” She said before hanging up and a large smile took over your face before you ran for a quick shower.
You threw on a nice outfit and fixed up your hair, applying lipgloss at the last second before grabbing your purse and heading outside. Right on the minute Melissa pulled up and you were walking up to the door. She opened it from the inside with a smirk, her eyes raking over your frame.
“Hi baby.” She said and you leaned in, pressing a deep kiss to her lips.
“Hello. Where are we going tonight?” you asked as she pulled away from your house and placed her hand on your thigh.
“You’ll like it, I'm sure, it's a big place.”
You looked down at that fact, a big place could mean two things, not a lot of people so you weren't seen or too many people so you were hidden.
“Hmm, what’s the event?” you said with a small distaste and she hesitated before answering.
“Well it’s kinda like a grand opening.” She replied softly and your brows pushed together.
“Hmm, that’s pretty vague.. do you know anyone there?”
“Yeah a friend of mine is hosting and the invite said to come with a date.” She said as she smiled at you and the familiar flutters filled your chest.
“So I am your date then.” You beamed and she looked away slightly annoyed.
“Don’t get all riled up now, but yes for tonight you are my date.”
Her reply filled you with joy but you remained stoic and just nodded along. This was a big step Melissa didn’t realize she was taking and you wanted to keep it that way. Otherwise the woman would deny any emotions she had and pretend it was all in your head.
As you arrived Melissa parked and opened your door, watching as you went to touch up your lipgloss first, she stopped you and you looked at her confused. She simply stepped closer and leaned in, her lips slowly but deeply locking with yours. You sucked in a shaky breath as she kissed you with fervor, your body turned to her now as she stood between your thighs and cupped your jaw with her strong hand. Her other squeezed the flesh of your leg and her nails dragged upwards, pulling the hem of your bottoms up.
Finally she pulled away, leaving you with reddened cheeks and short breaths. You smiled at her before bringing your hands up to apply your lip gloss to her plump lips, fixing her smudged makeup before your own.
As you approached the club entrance your hand brushed against hers and you looked down, hoping it would happen again. She didn't seem to pay any attention that time, but when it happened while you were in line, you grabbed hers for a moment and interlocked your fingers. She pulled her hand away slowly, calmly and you rolled your eyes.
“No one’s gonna care.” You muttered and she shook her head.
“I don't care about that, you know that's not the reason.” She sighed and you looked at her with judgemental eyes.
“It’s just my hand, you have done a lot worse I'm sure.”
“Did you only agree to come out so you could taunt me?” She quipped and you scoffed.
“You invited me, remember? As your date.” Your tone was strict but your voice came out softly and she just looked in your eyes for a mere moment before huffing.
“Dates hold hands Melissa. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna propose by midnight.” You added and she just sighed before grabbing your hand in hers and looking away. Her soft fingers locked with yours and you smiled before shoving the joy down and looking forward.
After ten minutes of waiting Melissa grew impatient and her hand detached from yours as she told you to wait in line while she talked to the security guard acting as a bouncer. You watched on your tiptoes trying to eavesdrop as best you could but the sounds emanating from the club doors and the people chattering around you masked it all.
Glimpses of red hair could be seen and the dazzling woman’s laughter met your ears, you saw as her hand grazed the man’s chest and his eyes traced her face before moving to her chest. A fire within your lungs began to boil your blood and redden your face at the sight. Soon her hand was moving from his chest and she was walking back to you.
Her hand grabbed yours and led you to the front of the line, leaving no time for you to comment on her shameless flirting.
“And this is my friend here.” She said proudly and you smiled at the man, knowing your role in this.
“Well it would be a failure on my part if I left two of Joe’s pretty little lady friends out here in the cold.” He grunted out as his eyes dragged up and down your frame.
You shifted uncomfortably but felt the pressure of Melissa’s hand gripping your waist as the man spoke. The feeling reassured you slightly and you snapped back into your fake laughter.
“I would hate for us to freeze out here. I mean look at me, I hardly call this weather appropriate.” you joked, gesturing to your low cut top and the sheen of your smooth legs.
The man’s eyes followed your hands and nodded in agreement. Nails were soon following the light pressure, the acrylics digging into your side and you just giggled up at the man.
“No, can’t say it is. Come on in sweetheart.” He said as he opened the door for you both and gestured you inside. Melissa flashed him a smile and nodded as she led you through the door.
You gave a small wave to the man and he smiled and winked at you before closing the door and returning to his real purpose. When you turned back around Melissa was glaring at you and you returned the expression.
“Don’t look at me like that, you are the one that put me in that position.” You whipped out and she scoffed.
“The flirting was already done! I just needed you to smile and follow me inside. Not stand with your chest up and your eyes just begging for him to mentally undress you.” Her words came out harsh and you just rolled your eyes.
Her reaction wasn’t anything new. Everything was a one sided street with Melissa and all you knew to do was shake your head. She could flirt with whomever she wanted, but if you asked for slightly too much attention from someone else, she was fuming.
“Whatever, I'm gonna get us some drinks, go find your friend Joe Schmoe.” You retorted before pulling away and walking over to the large wrap around bar.
You kept your back away from the woman as you ordered yourself a cocktail and the redheads usual beverage of choice. Eyes skimmed the room as you waited and you paused and smiled when you saw Janine and Gregory at the end of the bar. You walked over with a smile and Janine quickly noticed your presence.
“Y/n!!” She shouted with excitement before hopping off the stool to hug you.
“Hi! I didn’t know you two would be here. Are any of the others around?” you asked and they nodded looking around the large room.
“I think Ava is here somewhere with her date. Barb isn’t here for obvious reasons and then Jacob couldn’t find a date to come with..” She spoke out and you frowned at the last comment.
“That’s a bummer, I guess they are pretty strict about that then huh?” you pondered.
“Oh yeah, they wanted a lot of people here so it was required. They almost didn’t let me in because Janine was..” Gregory started and paused when Janine flashed him a look, testing him to continue.
“Um, she was below average height and they didn’t seem to believe me when I said she wasn’t underage.” he said holding back a smirk and she elbowed him in the ribcage.
“It’s true. Did you come with Melissa? Were you guys waiting outside for very long?”
“Oh no, only a few minutes, then Melissa flirted a bit and I guess she knows one of the owners of this place? Joe? I think it was.” you said as you looked around with a shrug.
Janine and Gregory gave each other a knowing look and your brows furrowed as you looked between the both of them.
“What was that look? Who is he? An ex boyfriend or something?” you began to question suddenly and Janine scratched her head awkwardly as she looked down.
“Kinda, I mean…more of an ex-husband type thing.” she said sheepishly and Gregory nodded with a sympathetic smirk.
“What?!” you practically shouted and they both shushed you.
“I’m sure it’s fine, it’s a big place you probably won’t even run into him. Melissa didn’t tell you any of this?”
You shook your head as you chewed on your lip anxiously and looked around, the bartender put your drinks up and you thanked him before taking a big swig of your martini and quickly ordering another.
“No, the woman won't even admit she's using my subscriptions, let alone who she has been with.” You scoffed.
“Well it was awhile ago, i’m sure they are just friendly now and he asked her to invite a few people to help fill the party.” Gregory reassured you and you nodded.
“Right, well I will catch you guys later.” You said before grabbing the drinks and departing.
“Don’t say anything I wouldn’t!” Janine shouted as you walked away and you nodded your head in confirmation.
Your eyes scanned the room and quickly locked on your lover, she was chatting with Ava and you smiled at the familiar faces.
“Hey, I got you a drink.” you said and she took it with a big smile.
“Thanks hon, this is Ava’s date, Saquon…Barkley!” she said and your jaw dropped when you looked up and saw the famous running back.
Immediately you extended your hand and he accepted it with his large calloused one and shook it politely.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Barkley. I’m a huge fan.” you said star struck and Ava smacked your hand away.
“Please don’t call me that, Saquon is fine.” He smiled and wrapped his arm around Ava’s waist. You looked at her with a knowing smirk and she nodded, silently stating she was well aware of the level of game she had.
“Well, Saquon, you and Ava make quite the power couple. How did you two meet?”
Ava intercepted and excitedly told the story while he admired her with excited eyes. Eventually the four of you found a booth to hang out in, Janine and Gregory joining.
An hour and a few drinks later and you were scooting out of the booth, hand in Janine’s with Ava close behind as the three of you took to the dance floor. Melissa stayed behind to get more insider info on the Eagles and Gregory stayed to keep an eye on you three from a distance.
The evening had been going smoothly so far. Melissa allowed you to rest your hand on her thigh beneath the table, and she would occasionally hold yours when you were at the bar waiting for your drinks.
Despite her fangirl heart she couldn’t seem to focus on the football player's story, her eyes instead drifting to your place on the dance floor. Watching the way the light flashed over you, your hips moving in sync with the other two ladies. There was a certain way you presented yourself that drew her in. She could tell the moment she met you that you were one of the good girls.
Suddenly she felt a spark in her chest and she nearly gasped. It had been awhile since she felt it but she knew what it meant. She felt her face grow hot and she let out a deep breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
“So how long have you been with your lady?” Shaquon asked, snapping Melissa back to the conversation. Gregory was smirking at her, waiting to see how she was going to step around your relationship this time.
“Um, well we aren’t really together.” she said and he made a sorrowful expression.
“Oh- sorry, I didn’t realize y’all were just friends.” he said shamefully and she shook her head. Her lips opened to speak and Gregory boldly cut her off.
“No you were right, they are definitely more than that.” he smirked and Melissa flashed him a glare. She knew he favored you because of your closeness with Janine; she just didn’t know it meant he would be so willing to prove a point, or clarify one that is.
“For a year, we have been…seeing each other for a whole year.” She nodded, the realization rolling off her tongue with the words and the large man smiled.
“Wow. With a girl like that and no label? Is she crazy or something?” He furrowed his brows and took a sip of his beer in sync with a suspicious Gregory.
“No, she’s not crazy. She’s um, great. I just don’t do relationships.” She said before excusing herself and heading to the bar for another drink.
As the agitated woman waited for her beverage she felt a presence come to stand beside her and was met with a scent that caused her insides to recoil. The strong cologne overwhelmed her and she turned to look up as the man began to speak.
“Melissa Schemmenti.” He said gruffly and she flashed her signature smirk.
“Joey Regall.” She quipped and he shook his head and put his hands up in defense.
“It’s Joe when i’m working.” he smiled and she returned the expression, his arms opening to give her a small hug which she accepted hesitantly.
“When I sent that invite, never in a million years did I think you’d actually show up.” he joked and she shrugged.
“You look good.” He added as his eyes took in her glowing appearance.
“Yeah I know, not looking too bad yourself.” She smiled before sipping her drink.
As more people began to flood the dance floor you grew a tad hot and decided to take a break, your heels tapping as you walked back over to your table. You smiled at the guys and they asked how you were doing.
“It’s getting a bit stuffy over there. Where’s Mel?” you said looking around and scanning the bar.
“Went to get another drink I think, though she’s been gone awhile.” Gregory answered and you looked over at the other bar across the room. You smiled when you saw your lover's bright red hair.
“Oh look there sh-“ You stopped when you saw her laughing, a man stood in front of her with a large grin on his face.
The shock combined with your cocktails caused you to stumble back and Gregory grabbed your arm to stabilize you. Janine and Ava were arriving from the dance floor soon after and looked in the direction of your confused gaze. Janine’s mouth opened and Ava mindlessly moved to sit on Saquon's lap, oblivious to the situation.
“Is that-“ you started and Janine rested her hand reassuringly on your arm.
“Yeah, that’s Joe I think. I dunno for sure I've never met him, but it looks like him.” She said and Gregory cleared his throat to break the tension.
“I’m sure they are just catching up…” Gregory exclaimed, flashing a hopeful glance to Janine to determine if his reply was helpful or not.
“Only one way to find out!” you said before throwing back the rest of your drink and walking over with a determined stride.
“Wait!” Ava practically shouted and you turned with a confused expression. She motioned you towards her and you obeyed, coming to stand before the woman impatiently.
Her hand quickly came to your top and pulled it down farther, pushing your breasts up and then moving to smooth your hair. You watched in confusion but pleasure at her willingness to help and you let out a small giggle.
“There, now you can go say some dumb shit but at least still look hot.” she said and you tilted your head at the confusing compliment fused with insult and turned to head to the bar once more.
With a deep breath in you put on a smile along with a veil of confidence. Your slow and calculated steps brought you up beside your lover and you rested your hand on her shoulder gently.
“Hey Mel, the guys wanna know if you wanna play some darts?” you suggested with a feigned integrity.
The red haired woman looked up at you confused, slightly shocked to suddenly see you standing beside her. Her eyes darted towards the man in front of her before they landed back on yours.
“Hi, um yeah I'll be over in a bit.” was all she said. Joe cleared his throat to signal the desire for an introduction and Melissa nodded.
“This is Joe, Joe this is my…” she paused thinking of the correct verbiage and you took the opportunity for yourself.
“Date. I'm her date for the evening. How do you know each other again?” You asked and the man looked at Melissa with confusion etched on his face.
The crows feet between his brows were harsh as he tried to make sense of the situation.
“We were married.” Melissa said softly and you sucked your teeth. You knew coming over here who he was but hearing the confirmation from her still felt like a punch to the gut.
“Oh, so you are the ex-husband.” Your tone was more judgmental than you initially intended but he didn’t seem to take offense and just nodded.
“That would be me. I also co-own this place, so I appreciate you coming out to celebrate it.” he said and you nodded.
“I sense a story there.” You teased and Melissa refrained from shutting down your remarks.
“Joe and I were just catching up.” Melissa spoke out finally and you just smiled.
“Yeah, about how I fucked up in our relationship.” Joe laughed but you couldn’t bring yourself to follow the action. It may have been a joke to him but you knew what he did was the reason Melissa couldn’t accept you wholeheartedly.
Your eyes looked down to her and you felt your heart tense in your chest at the way her eyes were sparkling with curiosity up at the man.
“Well, we should probably get back to the group, and I'm sure you have your rounds to make.” You said playfully to the large man and he agreed with a smile.
“I’ll see you around.” Melissa said with a smile and he nodded before you split ways. You watched as Melissa’s gaze followed him into the crowd and you turned to hide the frown prying down on your lips.
Once he was out of sight you turned to face her with an accusing glare. Your arms crossed over your chest and your breathing shallow.
“Are you okay?” was all you could get out and she smiled.
“Yeah hon of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” she played it off and you tilted your head.
“You just ran into your ex husband at a party you brought your female lover to, figured that’s something that warranted my worry?” you added and she looked down.
“Look hon, what happened with me and Joe was complicated but we are on good terms.”
“How good of terms with a man that broke your heart?” You asked with a genuine care that Melissa only interpreted as judgement.
“No we are friends now, you don’t know him like I do he-“ she began to spit the excuses out and you cut her off.
“He cheated on you Melissa, how could you forgive him so easily?” you asked with true concern and she squinted at you.
“I don’t expect you to be mature enough to understand, just leave it at that.” She said sharply and clearly defeated, wanting nothing more than to leave this conversation.
Your eyes softened at her demeanor, your veil of confidence having been worn down to a mere thread. A shaken breath left your lungs and you nodded as Melissa began to take a step forward.
This wasn’t the biggest fight you had endured during the past years but it was definitely one of the more hurtful and surreal ones. Her words pierced your tough exterior and you knew it would take longer to patch this one up. Still you wanted to enjoy your night so you shoved it all aside and continued on through the pain.
It wasn’t long before you found yourself distant from Melissa again, out on the dance floor missing only her. You were smiling and laughing enjoying the motions with Ava and Janine, but you longed for your woman. You wanted her in your ear apologizing and holding you, her hips swaying with yours and her nails digging into the stomach above your waist.
The feeling grew too strong and you decided to suck it up and apologize to her. She was right after all, who were you to meddle in her business. All because you were jealous? Insecure? A hole began to grow in your stomach when you couldn’t find her, worried she had left you here out of spite.
The crowds of people began to blur as you scanned the room for her shining hair, or her bright smile and melodic laugh. Suddenly you saw a glimpse of red in the corner of your eye and you looked to the corner, catching a glimpse of her curved figure turning a corner.
You hurried over to catch her, a bright smile on your face.
”Melissa!” You spoke loud enough so she could hear you over the noise. However, as she turned to face you, you noticed the man with her.
There was Joe, his arm linked with Melissa’s as he moved to open a side door leading to the upstairs. She froze but then released his arm and held up a finger, requesting a moment. A headache began to fill your mind from the pressure caused by your brows being stuck in thin lines as you tried to make sense of the scene.
“Hey sweetie.” she said kindly and you instinctively smiled but then tilted your head.
“What are you doing?” The innocence and trust in your voice broke Melissa and her bold demeanor faltered for a moment.
She remembered the fire that had erupted in her chest at the thought of you earlier in the night and allowed this to fuel her courage.
“Joe is going to show me the VIP lounge they are working on upstairs.” She said simply and you nodded with a grin.
”Oh cool, can I check it out?” You said taking a step towards her and she raised a hand to gently rest on your forearm.
“Hon this was fun, but I think it's time we go our separate ways. It’s just not working.” She said effortlessly and you shook your head in shock.
”What? What are you talking about? We had a little fight, that's all.” You stammered out, a heat flooding your cheeks that were surely pink by now from the embarrassment you felt.
The redhead moved to speak and a deep voice chirped up from behind her.
”Coming Amor?”Joe spoke out seductively, having the audacity to flash you a sympathetic smirk to which you bit your tongue and glared back. Your sad eyes met those of your torturer and you let out a laugh.
“So that’s it then? Just like that?” You asked and she nodded, a hand resting on your arm before placing a kiss to your cheek and turning away.
Joe opened the door, holding it open for the woman. Your eyes met one last time and you swore you could see at least a dash of humanity in her emerald eyes but she seemed to ignore it.
“Don’t do this.” You said with your voice breaking slightly, but she continued and disappeared out of sight, the door shutting behind them. You stumbled back, holding on to the wall behind you as you took deep breaths.
“Y/n?” You heard the familiar sound of Ava’s voice and you looked up.
“Ava- hey.” You said with a lethargic tone and she cocked her head.
“Are you okay? You didn’t get roofied did you?” She said cupping your face to check your pupils and you shook your head.
”Melissa just ditched me for her ex-husband.” You shrugged and Ava gasped.
“Melissa is a divorcee? Wow I would have guessed widow…” she said and you laughed at her rambling.
“Wanna do shots?” She said and you nodded eagerly as she held out her hand.
”Yes please” You said taking it and allowing her to lead you to the bar, you turned to face the door once more, begging maybe she would emerge having changed her mind, ready to admit her wrongdoings. Instead you were met with the tug of your arm as Ava dragged you through the crowd.
A few minutes later and you had learned Janine and Gregory left due to their bedtimes and Shaquon was winning at darts and earning Ava some status at the club.
“Well, I think three is good for now, I’m gonna go check on Shaquon, are you good here?” She asked and you nodded, shooing her off to be with her handsome, Greek-god, of a boyfriend.
You grabbed another drink to sip on and turned around to face the sea of people, you looked for your now ex-lover but couldn’t find her. Your anxiety was higher the more time went on and you didn’t spot her. It was clear to you that if you did see her, your skin would set ablaze and you would have to run for the hills.
The opposite side to that coin though meant not seeing her was like making etches into your flesh with your nails. Slow feet led you to the door and you stared at it, a few feet away. You wondered if what you thought was going on behind that door truly was. Did you want to bust through there to investigate? Was it better if you didn’t know?
Your legs grew tired and instinctively stumbled to a nearby chair and you sat down. The weight of the night came crashing down onto you and you played with the dainty bracelet hanging on your wrist.
The simple yet elegant chain was a gift from the woman. She often spoiled you like this, especially when she crossed the line, or pushed you away too far. It helped her to know this was all it took to have you back, and it helped you to know she wanted you back enough to pick the items out.
You were unsure how long you had sat there, waiting for her to return. However the crowd had dwindled slightly and you knew that confirmed all of your suspicions, well the ones that were left at least. A heavy truth in the pit of your stomach regarding her current actions.
Like a loud firecracker popping, you heard the sound of the door opening with a click. Your head snapped up and you watched. Melissa walked out, her head down as she shut the door behind her. Joe was not in sight and this somehow made your stomach sink farther. Her eyes were distant as she straightened herself up.
Her eyes slinked up and instantly met yours, the guilt evident on her face. Her lashes fluttered and her head tilted slightly, the emotions drowning her completely. She began to shake her head and you felt the warm blanket of empathy fall around your heart and you stood slowly.
“I’m sorry.” She let out, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “I don’t know why I’m like this..”
You rushed over to her, your hands coming to grab her arms right as she leaned forward into you, her arms grasping yours as she just shook her head and apologized. Tears formed in her eyes and you realized it was the first time you had really seen her feeling like this.
“I hate myself for doing this to you.” She muttered and you kissed her cheek, and cupped the other. You looked into her eyes and gave a reassuring glance.
“Hey- it’s okay. Come on.” Your arms stabilized her as you held her and walked towards the exit.
When you reached the car you spoke up softly.
"I actually had a lot to drink. Are you okay to drive?” You asked embarrassed and she smiled, sniffing and grabbing the keys from her bag.
“Yeah. I'll drop you off." She said and you nodded.
The car ride was silent and for the first time in a while, it was awkward. You didn't know what to say, or how to feel. If you were jealous, was it justified? Considering the woman never made things serious with you. It pained you to think she did that on purpose as a way to leave her options open.
Were you not enough?
The thought echoed in your mind, but not before it echoed in the space between you, realizing you had said it aloud.
"Am I not enough?" it came out softly, and you hope maybe the loud sounds of the road would mask the question.
Melissa froze, her fingers gripping tight as she pulled into your neighborhood and you took some solace in knowing you wouldn't have to deal with the consequences of your slip for much longer.
However, she pulled over suddenly and put the car in park, turning to look at you.
"Hon of course you are. God- it hurts me to know I made you think that." She said softly and you looked down. Her hand came to your thigh and for once you felt the need to pull away slightly.
Pushing past the feeling you allowed her hand to remain, but refused to look at her.
"You are everything, absolutely perfect, and this had nothing to do with you." She continued to fill the silence and you could hear the manipulation in her tone. It was clear it was a lie and you had to decide whether or not you pretended to believe her.
"Say something sweetie." She added and you finally glanced up at her.
"Stay with me tonight." You stated more so than inquired and she furrowed her brows in confusion and surprise.
Melissa refused to spend the night at your place. Anytime you hung out, had sex, or spent the night, it was always at hers or a hotel. Of course you never minded this, her home was big and cozy and had her scent and personality all over it.
It didn't occur to you until this night that she had purposefully avoided your place, always making excuses, or cancelling at the last minute. You needed to see if she would do this for you, give up the odd discomfort of commitment, and lay in your bed with you.
She needed to give up her control and make some sacrifices, at least this once. You also hoped she would give herself the grace to stay with you, after the evening's events you didn't want her to be alone. It was clear she knew this by the look in her eyes as she slowly nodded.
"Okay." She said simply before swiftly pressing the break and putting the car in drive.
When you arrived you offered her a shower and change of clothes, you doing the same as she showered in your guest bathroom. It was weird to shower in the same house and not do it together. Still you both knew it was needed and you wanted her to have some privacy after her physical actions earlier.
Once you had both gotten settled down, the low hum of the TV filled the space as you pulled her closer to you. The intimate gesture took some convincing, your hands snaking to her waist and down her thighs to remind her that cuddling, while inherently intimate, was also extremely hot.
After an hour of talking and convincing Melissa you didn't care if she slept with him, she finally gave in. She allowed you to kiss her and lay her back on your soft comforter, your scent folding around her.
Her confidence returned and as her body pressed into yours, your lips found one another's and you kissed her sweetly, with a deep passion that bloomed into lust. Your hands gripped her thighs and stroked the smooth skin as her manicured nails raked through your hair.
That night you finally made love with Melissa Schemmenti in your bed and you were both satisfied to know this high would keep you entangled with Melissa for a while.
I wanna start saying you are one of my favorite writers. I have a prompt for you if you like it.
The reader has a daughter and they are in some kind of social risk and they suddenly don’t have a home anymore. Mel likes both of them very much, invites them to her spare room and finds herself falling in love for the reader because the reader is a better partner than Joe or Gary ever were. Buuuut she knows she can’t fall for the reader ‘cause she doesn’t want to take advantage of her.
I thought of you for this prompt because I’m obsessed with you longer stories. And thank you ❤️
~The Practical Thing~ Part 1
Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Gender:Fluff, Fluff and more fluff
Warnings:none, (Smut on the future)
Summary:on the request
AN:thank you for the sweet request and comment. I hope you are still here to see it. Life has been kicking my butt lately and I had lost my desire to do anything, but I'm back and I loved doing this request!
Melissa Schemmenti had always considered herself a practical person. Practical meant buying generic cereal even when the box looked depressing. Practical meant keeping the plastic covers on the couch to make it last longer. Practical meant pretending she did not care when her students’ parents forgot conferences because she knew most of them were working two jobs and barely sleeping. Practical meant never mixing business with her personal life.
Which was exactly why, standing in her classroom doorway at six-thirty on a Thursday evening, staring at one of her student’s mothers trying very hard not to cry while helping her daughter zip a too-small winter coat, Melissa knew she was about to do something profoundly impractical.
-“I'm sorry...”-Melissa said carefully trying to get your attention. You looked up too fast, as if you had been startled out of thought. You were beautiful in the quiet kind of way people often missed at first glance. Not polished or deliberate, just warm. Your hair pinned up messily, tired eyes, soft mouth. The sort of face that looked made for smiling even when it was strained with worry.
-“Yes Miss Schemmenti?”-You looked up, Melissa hesitated.
Her house had an extra room, and for the last year it had become a graveyard for old exercise equipment and things she swore she would donate someday. It was empty enough.
And your daughter, Gaia, was sitting cross-legged by the cubbies drawing flowers on the back of a math worksheet because she was too patient to complain that her mom had spent the whole pickup quietly arguing with someone over the phone in rapid-fire Spanish.
Melissa had caught enough to understand.
Rent. Late again.
Please, just one more week.
-"Are you okey?" - she asked and you nodded rubbing your eyes.
-"What?" - you were not used to have someone caring how you were, so it took you by surprise - "Oh yes... I know I'm late to pick her up and that I haven't been coming to the last few meetings... I'm just working some extra hours, but I will be here the next one, I promise..."-you didn't wanted to say that you had lost your job and that you won't be busy the next days because you were not able to do extra hours anymore. But you limited your answer to a promise.
-"Look... I don't mean to pry but I heard..."-before she could gather the courage to say what she was planning to say, your phone rang and you opened your eyes like remembering something.
-"I'm sorry Melissa, Gaia has a dentist appointment and we are getting late...Can we talk another time?..."-you were calling your daughter with hand gestures. Your baby girl grabbed her color pencils and ran to you holding your hand and looking at the redhead with a bright smile
-"Yes... Don't worry...I will see you another day..."-the redhead said grabbing her bag and seeing how you picked up your daughter
-"Bye Miss Schemmenti" - you said hurried
-"Bye bye miss Schemmenti, see you tomorrow!" - Your little kid waved her gloved hand and you left, disappearing behind the green doors into the cold day
A couple more days passed, and Melissa could not stop thinking about you. About the strain in your voice during that phone call. About the way your fingers had trembled while buttoning Gaia’s coat. About the way you had smiled anyway, as if warmth could be forced into existence through sheer determination.
She noticed things after that. Little things.
The way Gaia always arrived clean and neatly dressed, even if her shoes were beginning to pinch at the toes. The careful way her lunches were packed, always homemade, always portioned with precision. Sometimes just a sandwich cut into perfect little triangles, an apple sliced so it looked abundant, a few crackers tucked carefully into a napkin.
And every morning, Melissa made sure there were snacks waiting in her desk drawer.
-“Miss Schemmenti, can I have one of the strawberry bars?”-Gaia asked one morning, peeking up at her with wide brown eyes.
-“Absolutely not"-Melissa clicked her tongue dramatically. Gaia’s little face fell.
Then Melissa reached into the drawer and placed two bars in front of her-“One is clearly for quality control"- Gaia giggled.
-“Thank you"-she said saving one in her pocket-"One for mama, this are her favorite ones too" - that squeezed the redhead's heart
-“Don’t tell the other kids”-Melissa warned-“I have a reputation to maintain”-she joked. Gaia nodded solemnly, as though entrusted with state secrets.
Melissa watched her skip back to her desk and felt something twist in her chest.
The kid was bright. Sweet. Too observant for her age.
She couldn't ignore the innocent conversations that your daughter had with other children, who although they were not rich, had gone out on weekends to nice places and your daughter was excited to say that on her weekend you had enough to buy you a ice cream to share with her.
And one Friday afternoon, while the class colored quietly, one kid was teasing Gaia about her lack of color pencils. Melissa immediately came to help
-"Hey, that's no nice, I will talk to your parents about your behavior by the end of the day when they come pick you up" - she said frowning and crossing her arms. The kid immediately went quiet and resumed his coloring lesson.
-"Gaia, if you want I have colors on my desk" - she offered and your daughter denied with her head
-"I like mine, I don't have the big box of coloring pencils but this works..."-she said and looked up to the redhead - “My mom cries in the bathroom so I won’t hear”-Melissa’s stomach dropped. She crouched beside her desk carefully.
-“Gaia…”-The little girl shrugged, still drawing.
-“It’s okay. She thinks I don’t know"-Melissa swallowed hard.
-“She loves you very much"-the teacher stated
-“I know"-Gaia finally looked at her, serious beyond her years-“She just gets sad because money makes grown-ups weird"-Melissa blinked.
Then, despite herself, she laughed softly.
-“That is… disturbingly accurate"-Gaia smiled. Then she leaned closer and whispered
-“I think she likes you"-Melissa nearly choked on air.
-“What?”-she blinked a few times. Gaia returned to coloring as if she had not just detonated Melissa’s nervous system.
-“She smiles when she says your name and she likes the strawberry bars that you send"-Melissa stared at the top of her dark little head, speechless. Children were terrifying.
That evening, pickup ran late again.
The classroom had emptied, the halls gone quiet except for distant janitors and squeaking wheels from someone’s cleaning cart.
Gaia sat by the window, drawing little stars on fogged glass. And then you appeared.
Hair damp from melted snow, cheeks pink from the cold, breathless and apologizing before the door had even fully opened.
-“I’m so sorry, our car broke and I had to take two buses and one was delayed and...-you were gasping for air trying to speak
-“You’re fine"- Melissa said quickly. You stopped. Actually stopped. As if the words had stunned you. Most people accepted your apologies because they expected them. They treated your lateness like proof of failure. But Melissa said it like she meant it. Like your being late did not make you lesser.
Your shoulders softened.
-"Thank you," - you said quietly. Gaia launched herself at your legs, and you bent to gather her close, kissing the top of her head. The tenderness of it hit Melissa square in the ribs.
Before she could lose her nerve, she blurted
-“I have a room"-You looked up, confused, you frowned
-“What?”-you looked scared, like she was offering something that shouldn't be offered in front of a child
-“In my house-” Melissa clarified, immediately flustered-“Not like a weird serial killer thing. Jesus, why did I phrase it like that?”-she scratched her head nervously. A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. Melissa’s face flushed brighter-“There’s an extra room"-she rushed on-“It’s mostly old junk and a treadmill nobody has respected since 2019, but it’s yours if you need it"-she offered. You froze. The air shifted. Melissa’s pulse thundered-“I overheard enough the other day"-she said more gently now-“And before you get embarrassed, don’t. Life is expensive, Philly landlords are criminals, and sometimes people need help"-she whispered with soft eyes.
Your mouth parted, but no sound came. You looked down at Gaia, who was already half-asleep against your coat. Then back at Melissa. Your eyes shimmered.
-“You barely know me"-you whispered, Melissa gave a small shrug.
-“I know your daughter says please and thank you without being reminded. I know she shares her crayons when other kids forget theirs. I know she talks about you like you hung the moon"-Your breath caught-“And I know good people sometimes get hit with bad luck"- Melissa finished softly.
Silence. Then your face crumpled. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just the quiet collapse of someone who had been carrying too much for too long. Melissa moved before thinking. Her arms wrapped around you instinctively, awkward at first, hesitant. Then you broke.
A trembling breath left your chest as you leaned into her, your free hand clutching the front of her coat. Melissa held on tighter. Her heart hammered wildly. You were warm despite the cold. Smaller than she had imagined. Real.
-“It’s okay"-she murmured, surprising herself with how much she meant it-“You’re okay"
For the first time in months, standing there in an empty classroom with your daughter half-asleep between you and the scent of snow still clinging to your coat, you believed it.
-"We got kicked out today" - Your voice came out weaker than you expected, trembling as you pulled back just enough to wipe at your tears with the sleeve of your coat. The words tasted humiliating. You hated how small they made you feel. Melissa stayed still in front of you, her hands hovering at your waist for half a second as if she wanted to pull you close again but was not sure she was allowed to. You took a shaky breath-“I lost my job because the restaurant closed. I was trying to gather money for rent cooking meals for some hospitals, but…”-Your voice broke, and you swallowed hard before continuing-“They didn’t give me more time. When I got back after dropping Gaia off here, all our things were outside the apartment"-Melissa’s face changed. Not pity. Something sharper. Anger, hot and immediate, on your behalf. You looked down, unable to bear the kindness in her eyes-“I put everything in our car, and then the car broke down halfway to the repair shop"-You let out a hollow little laugh that sounded nothing like amusement-“It’s still there, full of our stuff. And on the bus ride here, all I could think about was where Gaia and I were going to sleep tonight"-The shame hit harder saying it aloud.Your throat tightened -“I don’t want to impose. I know having a kid in your home is… a lot. A huge change. And I know this is insane, but…”-You laughed weakly through fresh tears-“I don’t exactly have the luxury of saying no"-Your voice cracked completely. You pressed your lips together, trying and failing to hold yourself together-“I… I don’t know what to say"-
Melissa’s expression softened. Her own hands shook slightly at her sides, and for some reason that steadied you. Then she gave that tiny crooked smile of hers, the one she always wore when she was trying to sound cooler than she felt.
-“Say yes before I overthink it and become a coward"-A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. Small and watery, but real. Melissa’s shoulders loosened at the sound, and something in her face brightened.
For the first time in what felt like forever, your chest loosened enough to breathe.
-“Yes, Miss Schemmenti”-you nodded, the words came out soft. Your cheeks warmed under her gaze-“Thank you"-
The way she looked at you then made your pulse stumble. Not polite concern. Not obligation. Something gentler. Something that made your skin feel suddenly too warm inside your coat.
Melissa cleared her throat and looked away first, her own cheeks pinking.
-“Please"-she said, grabbing her purse from her desk- “if we’re going to live together, you should call me Melissa"- The name felt strange and intimate sitting on your tongue.
-“Melissa"-you repeated quietly. Her breath caught. Just for a second. Then she recovered quickly, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear and forcing a practical little nod.
-“Right. Good. Great. Cool.”-You smiled despite yourself. She looked adorably flustered-“Now"-she said briskly, slipping back into her usual sharp efficiency-"tell me where the shop is. We’ll grab your stuff from the car, and then we’ll go home" - Home. The word hit unexpectedly hard. Your eyes stung again. Melissa noticed immediately and groaned dramatically-“Nope. Absolutely not"-You blinked-“No more crying. I’ve hit my emotional support quota for the week, and Barbara says if I absorb any more feelings I’ll become a guidance counselor"-she said looking for her car keys. A startled laugh burst from your chest. Melissa looked deeply pleased with herself-“Better"- she said.
Gaia, who had been half-asleep against your side through most of the conversation, suddenly lifted her head and blinked up at Melissa.
-“Does your house have snacks?”-Melissa gasped in mock offense.
-“Excuse you. My house is basically seventy percent snacks"-Gaia’s face lit up. You laughed, really laughed this time, and Melissa felt the sound settle somewhere dangerous beneath her ribs, but she tried not to pay attention to it.
Two weeks later, Melissa was learning that living with another person was like suddenly discovering your house had acoustics.
You hummed while making coffee in the mornings, old Spanish songs Melissa didn’t know but found herself replaying in her head all day.
Gaia left tiny glittering trails of crayons and stickers wherever she went, as if she shed art supplies instead of skin cells. And Melissa, who had spent years coming home to silence, found herself lingering after work just to hear them.
At first some things were "difficult", not necessarily problematic, but yes funny encounters of getting used to live with someone else. The first month settled into domestic collisions.
For example:
1-Melissa likes the house warm enough to survive Philadelphia winter.
You grew up with “put on another sweater, heating is expensive.”
You keep secretly turning it down. Melissa keeps turning it back up. This escalates into sticky notes on the thermostat: “Stop touching this. We are not reenacting the Ice Age.”
Your reply: “We are not funding PECO’s CEO’s yacht.”
2-Melissa had a system. You reorganize the kitchen logically for cooking. Now she can’t find anything. She opens a drawer.
-“Why are the spatulas with the measuring cups?”-she frowns
-“Because they are both cooking tools?”-you reply
-“That is psychotic"-
Gaia picks sides like it’s a custody battle-“Mom’s right, Miss Melissa"-Absolute betrayal.
3-Melissa Accidentally Becomes “Mom Mode” without realizing when Gaia spills juice.
-“Okay, no panic, paper towels, blot don’t rub, we can fix this"-Melissa says immediately. Then freezes because why did that come out so naturally?
You just stare at her, weirdly touched.
Later Gaia casually tells someone at school - “Miss Melissa knows mom stuff"-and Melissa short-circuits for a week.
4-Melissa does her laundry. You do yours. One day they get mixed.
She unfolds a very lacy bra that is aggressively not hers. You walk in making eye contact. Silence so loud it deserves its own soundtrack.
-“This is structurally impressive"-she murmurs and you laugh so hard you cry.
5-One night you got up at 2 AM for water because your thermos was empty. Everything was pitch black and you were not using your glasses, clumsy you slammed against something soft, very soft, Melissa's chest, was like a clowdy pillow. Her smell was very nice and she was warm, you were still half asleep, not processing that you should separate. Melissa turns on the light and you blush, separating and going without saying nothing else to get your water.
During the next couple months, those interactions kept progressing, the awkwardness becoming something familiar and confortable now.
1-One Saturday morning she wakes up to music drifting from downstairs. You’re cleaning the kitchen, singing softly in Spanish, hair messy, wearing one of her oversized old t-shirts because your laundry is still drying.
Melissa comes downstairs for coffee and just… stops. Completely frozen. You notice and smile.
-“Good morning"-you whispered. Melissa forgets how language works
-“Yep. That is… statistically morning"-Then she walks directly into the fridge door while your eyes followed her.
Gaia witnesses everything.
-“Miss Melissa has a crush"-she declared and Melissa nearly dies on the spot.
2-The Accidental Matching Outfits. You both come downstairs wearing black sweaters and jeans. Same silhouette. Same shoes. Gaia gasps like she has witnessed prophecy.
-“You match! That means you’re married in cartoons"-she claps and Melissa chokes on her coffee.
You turn bright red. Gaia spends the rest of the day introducing Melissa as “my almost-stepmom.”
3-Melissa has been thinking about her leftover lasagna all day at work. She comes home. Opens the fridge to find it gone. Absolute betrayal. She storms into the kitchen.
-“Who ate my lasagna?”-Gaia points at you immediately. No loyalty. No hesitation. You freeze mid-bite. Melissa stares, scandalized-“That was labeled"-she frowns
-“It said ‘don’t touch.’ I thought it was sarcasm"-you looked at her with your cheeks full
-“I'm Italian. That’s how we express seriousness"-You laugh so hard you snort. Melissa is doomed because she finds it adorable and she can't keep her mad face up.
-"I made more lasagna, don't cry" - you said pointing to the warm one on the oven
4-Melissa Learns You’re Touchy Without Realizing. You’re naturally affectionate. A hand on her shoulder when passing. Fixing her collar absentmindedly. Brushing lint off her blazer
5-Melissa gets sick and insists she’s fine. She is clearly not fine. Still trying to grade papers while looking like Victorian tuberculosis. You take one look and confiscate everything.
-“Bed"-you point to the stairs
-“Absolutely not"-she frowns like a little kid
-“Melissa"-you raised an eyebrow like you did with your daughter
-“…That tone feels illegal"-she murmurs getting up the stairs to her bed. You tuck blankets around her and make soup. She’s so unused to being cared for she gets weirdly emotional about it.
Later Gaia whispers to you while you cook
-“She likes when you boss her around"-you look at Melissa and she just pretends to be asleep but the blush on her cheeks betrays her.
And after a little more time, things change from familiar to family.
1-Melissa hears you defending her at pickup
-“Miss Schemmenti is kind of intense"-another parent complains
You immediately smile politely stepping into the conversation
-“She’s dedicated, smart, and she cares more about these children than anyone in this building. Some people mistake competence for intensity"-nobody dears to fight you, Melissa overhear from her car. No one has ever defended her like that. That night she stares at the ceiling until 3 a.m. Catastrophic feelings unlocked.
2-Grocery shopping. Melissa hated grocery shopping on Sundays.
Not because of the store itself. She liked lists. She liked organization. She liked crossing things off with aggressive efficiency and silently judging people who blocked entire aisles while contemplating yogurt. What she did not like was crowds.
And she especially did not like crowds when Gaia had somehow convinced you both to come along, which meant Melissa was currently navigating the produce section while your daughter zigzagged ahead in her little pink coat like a caffeinated hummingbird.
-“Gaia”- you called, steering the cart with one hand-“lento bebe"
-“I am slow!”-she yelled
-“You are literally running"-you replied
-“That’s just fast walking"-she always had an answer to everything, Melissa snorted before she could stop herself.
-“See? Miss Melissa agrees with me"-Gaia whipped around triumphantly.
-“I absolutely do not"-if the redhead learned something on the time living together was that Gaia didn't needed someone on her side to win
-“Traitor"- Gaia informed her solemnly narrowing her eyes. Melissa placed a hand over her chest.
-“After everything I’ve done for this family"-The word slipped out before she could catch it. This family. You heard it too. She knew because your hands paused on the shopping cart handle for half a second, your knuckles tightening slightly before you looked down to hide the little smile tugging at your mouth. Melissa’s stomach flipped. She immediately redirected her attention to a pyramid of oranges as though citrus had become critically important
-“Those are definitely overpriced"-she muttered. You laughed softly beside her. God, that laugh, it was becoming a problem, a dangerous, daily sort of problem.
Family...You had settled into her house with alarming ease over the last months. There were little signs of you everywhere now. Gaia’s drawings taped to the fridge. Your cardigan hanging over the kitchen chair. The scent of your perfume and whatever impossible magic you did to plain rice lingering in the walls.
Melissa had spent years cultivating her solitude into something neat and controlled. And now your shampoo was in her shower. And somehow that felt less like intrusion and more like something her home had been waiting for.
-“Melissa?"-Your voice pulled her back. She turned too quickly. You were holding up two jars of pasta sauce.
-“This one or this one?”-Melissa stared blankly. Not at the sauce. At you. At the tiny crease between your brows while you concentrated. At the way your hair had escaped its clip in soft strands around your face. At the domestic normalcy of this exact moment. Like this was just what the two of you did. Like there was nothing strange about standing here together deciding between basic tomato and roasted garlic while your daughter attempted to climb into the lower rack of the cart behind you. Her chest tightened.
-“Melissa?”-You tilted your head-“Are you okay?”-She blinked. Right, words.
-“The left one"- she blurted. You frowned at the labels.
-“The plain tomato one"-you frowned
-“You love garlic"-you whispered confused
-“I have evolved"-she replied. You smiled, warm and amused.
-“Sure"-you left the sauce, then, before she could process what was happening, your free hand reached up and brushed lightly at her cheek. Melissa froze. You held up your fingers, showing a faint streak of red.
-“Gaia got marker on you this morning"-The touch had lasted barely a second. It still sent heat rushing all the way down Melissa’s spine.
-“Oh"-Very articulate Melissa. A+ response.
You smiled, clearly oblivious to the fact that your casual tenderness had just short-circuited her entire nervous system, and dropped the sauce into the cart.
Behind you, Gaia popped up dramatically-“Can we get cookies?”-she looked at you
-“No"-both of you said instantly. Gaia gasped. Then narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
-“You sound married when you do that"-Melissa nearly aspirated. You turned bright red. Gaia grinned like she had personally orchestrated this.
-“Interesting"- she sang, and disappeared toward the cereal aisle before either of you could recover. For one long second, neither of you moved. Then your eyes met. And to Melissa’s horror, you both started laughing. Real laughter. The kind that made your shoulders shake and left your cheeks aching. By the time it faded, you were both standing a little closer than before. Not touching. But close enough for Melissa to feel your warmth through her coat. Close enough that if either of you leaned in even slightly, everything would change. Neither of you moved. Then Gaia’s voice echoed from three aisles over.
-“Mom! Miss Melissa! There’s a man licking the avocados!"-The moment shattered instantly. Melissa closed her eyes
-“Why is that a sentence I have to hear?”-You were still smiling as you started toward your daughter
-“Welcome to parenthood" - And Melissa, following close behind with the cart and a smile she could not seem to suppress, realized something terrifying. That the word no longer scared her quite as much as it should have.
3-Melissa starts to gets jealous of literally nothing
You thank the mechanic fixing your car and smile politely. Melissa, standing beside you:
Why is she smiling at him?
Does he deserve that smile?
She is immediately disgusted with herself.
4-A rude cashier dismisses you when your card declines. Before you can even react, Melissa appears. Sharp posture. Dangerous calm.
-“Try that attitude again and I’ll explain customer service to you using very small words"-she said, you stare. Cashier folds instantly. Later, outside, you smile at her.
5-The moments that your daughter decided to play Cupid.
You’re reaching for something on a high shelf. Melissa reaches too. She plants one hand against the wall to steady herself. Now she’s accidentally caging you in. Faces inches apart. Breathing catches. Nobody moves. Then Gaia walks in.
-“Are you guys kissing?”-You both leap apart like the house is on fire. Gaia sighs dramatically-“Okay. Later then"-Walks away.
Melissa had dated enough terrible men to know the warning signs by heart. It was almost impressive, really. If there had been an Olympic event for consistently choosing emotionally unavailable men with mediocre opinions and deeply unnecessary confidence, she would have qualified for nationals.
There had been Chris, who called her “intimidating” every time she disagreed with him, as if her having thoughts of her own was an aggressive act.
And then there was Ethan, who had once looked genuinely inconvenienced when she got the flu. She remembered shivering under three blankets, feverish and miserable, while he stood in her bedroom doorway holding his phone and asking if she really needed him to cancel poker night. Melissa had broken up with him two weeks later.
Then Joe, cheating husband.
Gary that didn't listen to what she wanted.
And then Rob, who the only thing that she saw attractive on him, was his job. And he thought that his work was way more important than hers and his relationship.
The thought drifted through her mind now as she stood in her own kitchen, staring at you. It was almost midnight. She had gotten home late after parent conferences, exhausted and already bracing herself for the usual ritual of silently microwaving leftovers and grading papers until her eyes crossed.
Instead, the kitchen light had been on. You were standing barefoot by the stove in one of those soft oversized sweaters that always made Melissa’s brain briefly lose signal.
Your hair was half-down, loose around your shoulders. And you were making soup. Not because she had asked, not because you expected anything. Just because, apparently, you had noticed she looked tired that morning.
-“There you are"-you said softly when she stepped inside, whispering because Gaia was already asleep. The smile that spread across your face was immediate and unguarded, like seeing her had genuinely improved your night. It did something strange to Melissa’s chest.
-“There’s soup"-you said, nodding toward the stove-"And before you protest, yes, you’re eating.”
Melissa automatically opened her mouth to argue. You gave her a look. Not annoyed, not impatient, just calmly certain and somehow that was worse. She obeyed, which was humiliating.
She sat at the kitchen table while you poured a bowl and set it in front of her, along with a spoon and the good crackers Melissa pretended she was saving for special occasions.
-“You didn’t have to do this"-she said. You shrugged, like the answer was obvious.
-“You work hard"-That was it. No grand performance. No expectation of praise, just a simple statement of fact. You work hard. Melissa stared down at the steam curling from the bowl. Something about it made her throat tighten unexpectedly. Her exes had always made care feel transactional. If they remembered something she liked, it was because they wanted credit for remembering. If they did something kind, it arrived with an invisible invoice. Later, there would always be some moment where the cost was collected.
A favor expected, a guilt trip, a reminder that she owed them for basic decency.
But with you, kindness just… existed. It moved through your hands as naturally as breath.
You packed her lunches if she forgot. Folded the blanket over her if she fell asleep on the couch. Left sticky notes on the coffee maker when she had stressful mornings.
"Good luck today. You’ll do great."
"Don’t forget your scarf. It’s freezing."
"Gaia says your eyeliner is 'slay.' I was told this is a compliment."
You gave without keeping score. The realization hit her so suddenly it stole her breath. This was what comfort was supposed to feel like, not anxious, not performative, not the constant, exhausting work of making herself smaller so someone else could feel bigger. Just this. Warm soup. Soft kitchen light. Your sleepy smile as you leaned against the counter, watching to make sure she ate.
Melissa looked up before she could stop herself.
You blinked.
-“What?”-you asked. She had been staring. A lot, apparently. Her face heated instantly.
-“Nothing"-Your eyes narrowed slightly, amused.
-“You’re doing the thing"-you pointed to her face
-“What thing?”-she narrowed her eyes this time
-“The one where your brain is clearly spiraling but you’re pretending it isn’t"-you already knew every face that she made
-“I do not spiral"-You smiled. Melissa’s stomach flipped.
-“You alphabetize your spice rack when you’re stressed"-you state
-“That is called efficiency"-she replied
-“That is called distress-organizing"-you retorted. She opened her mouth to defend herself and then stopped when you laughed. God. That laugh. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t polished or practiced. It was warm and breathy and real, and it filled her kitchen like it had always belonged there. And just like that, Melissa understood something terrifying.
Every relationship she’d ever had had felt like trying to squeeze herself into clothes that didn’t fit. Too tight in the wrong places. Always aware of the discomfort. Always waiting to breathe again. But this? This felt like finally coming home and changing into something soft. And that was infinitely more dangerous.
Because Melissa Schemmenti had spent years learning how to survive discomfort. She had absolutely no idea what to do with peace.
Melissa didn't wanted to accept that any kind of feelings, besides appreciation were involved, she wasn't scared of loving you because she doubts her feelings. She was scared because she respects you too much to ever want you wondering if her kindness came with strings attached. That guilt would eat her alive.
Melissa did not tell Barbara. That alone should have been enough to alarm her.
Barbara Howard had somehow become the unwilling keeper of every emotional disaster Melissa had ever stumbled into. Usually because Barbara possessed the deeply irritating ability to look at Melissa for three seconds and immediately know when something was wrong.
Which was exactly why Melissa had spent the last three weeks avoiding being alone with her.
No lunch breaks in the teacher’s lounge alone, no lingering after meetings, no going out together, no opportunities for Barbara to narrow those knowing eyes and gently dismantle every carefully constructed lie Melissa had prepared.
Because if Barbara asked, Melissa would tell her.
And if she told Barbara, then it would become real. And Melissa could not afford real. It was easier this way.
If she kept the feelings quiet enough, buried deep enough beneath routine and practicality and carefully timed exits from shared rooms, maybe they would shrink. Maybe they would dissolve into something manageable. A harmless crush. Temporary. Controllable.
That was what she told herself, anyway.
It was what she told herself every morning when she heard your soft footsteps downstairs and had to physically stop herself from smiling before she even saw you. What she told herself every time you laughed at one of her dry little comments and looked at her like she’d said something genuinely brilliant. What she told herself every time Gaia casually called her Miss Melissa in that affectionate little voice that somehow made her chest ache.This was temporary. It had to be. Because the alternative was unbearable.
Her plan worked, for a few days at least, until one night Gaia slept at a friend’s house.
Melissa had never considered herself the jealous type. Possessive, maybe. Judgmental, certainly. Selective with her affection to the point of emotional constipation, absolutely.
But jealous? No.
Jealous implied irrational attachment. And irrational attachment required first admitting she had some kind of attachment to begin with, which was obviously absurd and deeply inconvenient.
So when she came home Thursday evening, juggling two overstuffed grocery bags and mentally composing tomorrow’s lesson plan, she was entirely unprepared for the sight waiting in her living room.
You were standing by the hallway mirror, adjusting a small silver earring. And you looked…
Melissa’s thoughts stopped functioning.
You were wearing a dark green dress she had never seen before. Nothing flashy, nothing dramatic. Just soft fabric that skimmed your body perfectly, elegant in that quiet effortless way that always seemed to follow you.
Your hair was down, falling in waves around your shoulders. A little makeup, just enough to catch the warm apartment light. You looked beautiful.
Not the tired, practical kind of beautiful Melissa had memorized over the past months. Not your messy-morning-hair, oversized-sweater, flour-on-your-cheek kind of beautiful.
This was deliberate. Intentional. Date beautiful.
Melissa’s stomach dropped so suddenly it almost felt physical.
You turned and smiled when you noticed her.
-“There you are"-Your smile was warm, distracted, a little nervous. Not for her. For whoever was waiting for you.
Something sharp twisted under Melissa’s ribs.
-“Hi"-she managed. Her voice came out weirdly flat. You tilted your head.
-“Everything okay?”-you asked
-“Why wouldn’t it be?”-Too fast. Too sharp. Your brow furrowed slightly. Melissa immediately wanted to throw herself down the stairs. She set the grocery bags on the counter with more force than necessary.
-“You look…”-she started. Good. Beautiful. Impossible. Like whoever was taking you out tonight had better appreciate exactly how lucky they were-“…different"- Excellent recovery.
You blinked. Then smiled softly, smoothing your hands down the dress.
-“Oh. Thank you.”-That tiny smile wrecked her. You looked nervous. Excited nervous. Melissa hated this mysterious person instantly. She opened cabinets aggressively, putting groceries away with enough force to suggest she was personally punishing the canned goods.
-“So"-she said casually, which would have sounded casual if she hadn’t just nearly decapitated a box of pasta against the shelf-“big plans?”-There was a pause behind her
-“Sort of"-you replied
Sort of? Not a denial. Her stomach sank lower. You hesitated.
-“I don't want to say anything yet, until it's something sure...”-That somehow made it worse.
Because of course you wouldn’t tell her. Why would you? You were roommates. Friends, maybe, if Melissa was being wildly optimistic. You didn’t owe her explanations about your love life. The thought hit with surprising force. A hot, ugly little ache she was deeply embarrassed to feel.
-“Oh"-She kept her back to you-“Cool"-Silence. The kind that stretched too long. Then your voice came, softer, your leg was bouncing on the floor, the hill of your shoe making it sound louder, you were nervous.
-“Melissa"-She turned before she could stop herself. You were watching her carefully now, reading her. You’d gotten annoyingly good at that.
-“What?”-her question was sharp. You studied her face for a long moment, and she had the terrible feeling you could see every stupid, yearning thought written there. Then your expression gentled.
-“It’s not what you think"-you whispered. Her heart gave one humiliating leap. Dangerous. Hopeful. She shut it down immediately.
-“I’m not thinking anything"-she almost pouted
-“Melissa"-your voice came more serious this time
-“I’m not"-she repeated and you stepped closer.
Just enough to make her pulse kick.
-“It’s a job interview"-you confessed. The words landed so suddenly Melissa actually blinked.
-“…What?”-she asked lost. You let out a tiny breath of laughter, nervous and relieved all at once.
-“It’s dinner with the director of a new pediatric rehabilitation center. They’re opening next month, and one of the nurses I used to cook for recommended me for their in-house meal program"-you blushed lightly because of the nerves. Melissa stared. Your smile turned shy-“If it goes well, it could be full-time. Benefits. Real stability"-For one suspended second, all she felt was relief. Bright and dizzying and immediate. Not a date. Not someone else.
Then guilt followed close behind. Because the strength of that relief told her exactly how badly she’d wanted it to be true. And that was… information she absolutely did not know what to do with, a stable job maybe would mean that you would move out, and she didn't wanted you to leave.
-“That’s amazing"- she said, and this time her smile was real. Your whole face softened.
-“You think so?”-you played with your rings nervously
-“Obviously"-Melissa stepped forward without thinking and fixed the collar of your coat where it had folded awkwardly. The motion was automatic. Domestic. Her fingers brushed your neck. Both of you froze. The apartment suddenly felt very quiet. You looked up at her. Too close.
Close enough for Melissa to notice the tiny hitch in your breathing.
Close enough to smell your perfume, soft and warm and dizzyingly familiar underneath.
Her hand lingered for half a second too long. Then she jerked back like she’d touched fire.
-“There"-she said, voice thinner than usual-“Professional"
You smiled, but your cheeks had turned pink.
-“Thank you"-You bit the inside of your cheek,her closeness making you feel more nervous that the interview itself. Neither of you moved.
Then Gaia’s voice crackled suddenly from your phone where she was on speaker with her friend’s mom, you forgot you had called her.
-“MAMA?”-You jumped.
-“What?”-you asked, your heart hammering on your chest
-“Miss Melissa says you look nice"-Melissa nearly died.There was delighted cackling from Gaia and her friend in the background.
-“Oh my God"-Melissa muttered.
Your laughter spilled out bright and helpless, filling the room. And just like that, the tension broke.
You reached for your purse, still smiling.
-“I should go"-You pointed the door, Melissa nodded.
-“Yeah"-she replied, you hesitated at the door.
-“Would you wait up?”-you asked. Her heart stuttered-“For interview updates"- you added quickly, though your smile turned a little shy.
Not entirely innocent. Melissa swallowed.
-“Yeah"- she said softly-“I’ll wait up"-And after the door clicked shut behind you, Melissa stood alone in the quiet apartment.
hi, everyone. i'm so sorry for asking for another help. i need to buy meds (for my PMOS and GERD; as well as for my two cats with mouth ulcers) and pay some bills which cost around $310. i only got paid 6k php (roughly $97) for the past two weeks because i missed a couple of days of work when my girlfriend had blood transfusion.
i am not expecting to get the full amount as i know everybody's struggling too. even a little would actually help me out a lot. reblogs and shares are welcome.
ko-fi / paypal
i would also like to thank everyone who helped me in the past, whether by donating and/or reblogging/sharing, i appreciate it a lot. i hope life would be better to you for helping a friend or a stranger on the internet. ❤️
If a story has three chapters, can it already be considered a series? Don't worry, Melissa will make her presence known soon! 1.7K edited in the slightest. O1. O2.
stargazer.
Seated on a wooden chair in the middle of the bathroom, Dana gazed at her life partner with heart-eyes; it was always an adventure to see them in this former work element. They were dressed only in casual clothes; Dana wore a very loose blouse, while her partner wore only boxer shorts, leaving their torso bare. Something the couple had learned over time in their relationship was that intimacy doesn’t need to be strictly spoken, nor reaffirmed primarily with half-words, but rather lived. Intensified simply by the fact that their company was enough to fill the space. That passionate connection they shared was something they had both longed for, but it took them a while to find each other to live out their eternal promise.
There, in that late afternoon, when Kai was already in their dream state and the day was tied up in the choice of being together, Dana placed her hands on her partner’s hips, running her thumbs over the stretch marks on their belly while their arms moved to apply bleach to the natural roots of her dark hair. Domesticity was something they embraced without expectations, simply carrying on one day after another, molding themselves to each other’s lives, changing and maturing until the rhythm of such different identities became the energy that adorned them like a blanket.
For Dana, dating was a breath of fresh air, the calm that kept her in a sanity she had long yearned for without even knowing where to begin to feel it. For you, the engagement was something grounding, allowing you to live beyond restrictions on how to love who you are or demonstrate such affection without compromising it. Above all, passion, respect, and admiration were what moved such different people to continue cultivating and choosing each other every day since the first time their eyes met in the middle of one of the emergency rooms.
Even though some days in the ER are more chaotic than usual, this particular day was calm, too calm for the nurses on duty to expect. That day, Dana was able to give more attention to the patients who had already been hospitalized for a few days and those who arrived there for minor emergencies. For instance, the lady who was brought in with a twisted ankle, and it was swollen, turning a purplish color, indicating something far more serious than a sprain.
While examining the silver-haired lady, Dana noticed the woman had a curious facial expression, a mischievous gaze that was too much for what the nurse accepted in that line of work. With delicate fingers pressing on one of the purple joints, the nurse stepped back to make notes on the tablet and finally faced the older woman.
“Alright, what’s going on here that you are not telling me, ma’am?” the blonde’s lips curved into an almost imperceptible grimace.
“Oh, nothing, honey! It’s just– you got all this attitude walking around, all that swagger but you’re still gentle with your touch. You really care about your patients,” she admitted. All sorts of cordial behavior with words were definitely not that woman’s forte. “You know… My daughter needs someone like you.”
Dana wasn’t surprised; it was almost routine dealing with the type of patient who always wanted their child to get involved with a healthcare worker for better financial conditions, even if the statistics proved otherwise.
“Really?” the head nurse questioned without much enthusiasm.
“You look like you actually want to be here, taking care of those in need… This kind of passion ain’t easy to find. My kid? They’re just like that. And my baby needs someone like you, since they’re always on the rougher end.” the nurse could see the gleam in the woman’s smile as she spoke about her daughter. “They’ll catch your eye, I’m telling you!”
And as if by magic, when the curtain opened, the figure Dana spotted arrived similar to an eclipse. Majestic. The blood-red of their lips contrasted with the bright sunlight that their energy carried, dissipating the pale light of the emergency room and the energy of illness that hovered over the hospital, seeming null in their orbit.
“Mother!” their alert voice snapped the nurse out of her reverie, and she noticed how the elderly woman’s face had twisted as if she’d been caught doing something petty. The woman knew she was in trouble, and that realization made Dana hold back a laugh.
“Uhhh, hey sweetheart.” now that you were checking the older woman’s body for any other signs of injury, there was an air of insecurity in her voice. “Who called you?”
“Guess who.” when the sense of urgency dissipated, their arms were crossed, finally facing the nurse. “What did she said to you, exactly?”
“Nothing that offended me, if that’s what you’re asking.” she went back to making some notes about the swelling and heard a deep laugh. Looking back at you, she closed her eyes, realizing that perhaps that wasn’t the answer you were expecting. “But, that’s not really what you meant though, is it?”
“No... But let me apologize in advance for whatever nonsense she decided to say without actually thinking.” putting the sunglasses on top of their head, making the bangs fall back in a unique design with the height of the hair tied up in a way that gave them a 2000s look that she appreciated a little too much. Their low-waisted, bell-bottom jeans with a loose, thin-fabric blouse, open at the back, implied the lack of a bra. Even though she could see their nipples reacting to the air conditioning. “She was having sex on a table.”
“Excuse me?” Dana was caught off guard, setting aside professionalism for a moment to giggle, observing how red as a tomato her patient looked, completely mortified.
“That old hussy’s new boyfriend called me saying she fell clean off the table while they were apparently doing some extra-curricular activities.” the smile on your lips revealed that although the concern was still evident, nothing would take away the locution “like mother, like daughter,” or that “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” would have even more effect. “Maybe it’s best to order an X-ray... Just to be sure.”
“Yeah, of course... I’ll get on it right away!” she was too disconcerted by your tone, voice and presence to say that she had already requested the exam and your godmother was on the waiting list.
After that interaction, the older woman finally spoke, further disconcerting the nurse and her daughter. “See, Dana? Told you the two of you would get along.”
Taking possession of all the courage that remained in their body, after putting their godmother in the car and her insistence on having them take the first step with the nurse, their steps met again on the smooth floor of the emergency room. In different circumstances, in another place, they really would have left the shyness aside and danced to the music, the primary distinction being that the music in that place smelled of antiseptic and was too bright for everyone to see if they got turned down.
Coming across the blonde again, she was trying to fix her hair with a rusty hair clip until it snapped apart. They smiled after a breath of confidence, approaching the station and lightly nudging her shoulder with their index finger.
“Uh– excuse me,” removing their own hair clip to offer it to her, voice firm as the surface set between both bodies. She accepted it with a simple, whispered thank you amidst a sigh. She could see how their hair fell like a shimmering cascade over gathered shoulders.
“I’m hoping you either got another one with you, or you’ll come back later so I can give it back,” she quipped, studying their uncertainty. It was rare that, even with someone making arrangements between them, they would still show signs of nerves on edge. It was totally reciprocal.
“Actually, I was meant to ask…” something Dana couldn’t quite point out was the realization that they possessed more than just confidence and a positive attitude. “Are you currently involved in a sexual relationship?” straightforward, there it was! She loved that quality in a potential date.
Using their hair clip, she finally managed to get the blonde strands out of her eyesight and observed the blush forming on their cheeks.
“No,” the blonde said simply, not concerned with how that scene was being presented to the other people who were clearly paying attention, even if they tried to hide it. “Would you like to be?”
“Sure… Why not?” they smiled broadly, highlighting the dimples in rosy cheeks, and that scene became even more beautiful in her eyes, as she admired their beauty as if she had never seen anyone so unique before. “Can I get your phone number?”
Dana looked pleased, practically breathless. Reaching out with her right hand to take theirs and bring it towards the front desk, the left-handed woman took one of the blue markers from the uniform pocket and removed the cap using her teeth, tracing her personal phone number on their palm between the embroidered lines. The moment her attention shifted from the delicate hand back to the new beautiful face, they couldn’t take their eyes off her lips around the marker cap, which was removed and placed back in her pocket. Their stomach churned.
“Thank you…” their soft voice enhanced the blonde by every second. Soothing in the face of so much anxiety. “And, uh… You can keep the hair clip if you want. Looks better on you anyway, honestly.”
“You got that look again.” your low-voice pulled Dana from her nostalgic thoughts, the butterflies flying high on her stomach extending to the fixed gaze of your bright eyes. Your admiring smile once more took her breath away.
“What look? I have no idea what you are talking about right now!” she shrugged, but she would never deny that look was one of love. Of feeling something simple, yet so, so beautiful. In that cozy space, you were between her legs, and soon the older woman embraced your waist and rested her chin on your belly, which had once served as a home for your baby.
“Uh-huh… The last time you looked at me like that, I ended up pregnant the next month, so don’t start with me.”
📌 ∶ not sure if anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters of this story, so please tell me if you do. also, I have no idea what the title of this story should be... any thoughts?
synopsis ∶ nothing could have prepared you for this moment: the signature, the ending, and the person standing quietly beside. Olivia Benson. telling herself she can live with the guilt. what she doesn’t expect is the captivated pull towards you… or how impossible it becomes to ignore.
you don’t expect any of it either. not how easily understanding grows through cracks you thought were sealed, where resentment should have taken root.
warnings ∶ angst, emotional infidelity, divorce, guilt, complicated relationships, mutual pining, slow burn, comfort, friends to lovers, mentions of canon-typcal trauma. suggestive dialogue and flirting. no use of y/n. edited.
ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ ᅟ₊ 𓅓 ᅠMASTERLIST
chapters ∶
* ⸻ᅠᅠ001 . . . unbreakable.ᅟᅟᅟ﹙ intro ﹚
⸻ english is not my first language, but I hope you enjoyed it. constructive feedback is always welcomed! let me know if you want to be tagged in the following chapters or future fanfics. thanks for reading! 💜
I’m accepting requests! if you enjoy my writing and want to read a story about a specific character, I’ll do my best to make it happen!
synopsis ∶ years after leaving New York behind, a celebrated pediatric ᐟ neonatal surgeon collides with the one person she never stopped loving. Addison Montgomery was never supposed to be part of the plan again, but some wounds don’t heal just because you walk away.
you don’t outrun love. you just put oceans, time zones, and operating rooms between yourself and its echo. some loves don’t end. they hibernate. and when they wake up, they might heal just as much as they hurt.
warnings ∶ angst, slow burn, mutual pining, unresolved romantic tension, emotional hurt ᐟ comfort, friends to lovers, domestic abuse ﹠ abortion ﹙referenced﹚canon character reinterpretation, suggestive dialogue and flirting. no use of y/n. edited in the slightest.
author’s note ∶ please mind the warnings. some difficult topics are referenced, including past abuse and infidelity, though nothing graphic is depicted. this is a slow, emotionally heavy burn, and feelings are very much the point. that said, there is tenderness here. soft moments. hands held in hospital corridors. love spoken too late, and maybe not late at all.
Used to be so easy
To give my heart away
But I found out the hard way
There's a price you have to pay
I found out that love
Was no friend of mine
I should have known
Time after time
So long, it was so long ago
But I've still got the blues for you
Leaving New York was one of the easiest decisions.
The most difficult part was leaving without anyone to look back on at the airport. Embarking on a new professional opportunity, a chance you had always dreamed of and precisely why you had studied for most of your life. Finally, the sleepless nights, the headaches, and the years working in hospitals and private practices; it all came down to that moment.
As I was saying, you were on your own. Your best friend, the woman you ended up in love with during your residency and first certification... Addison Montgomery... Shepherd was trying by all means to resuscitate a marriage that was a slow-motion death spiral waiting to happen. The evenings you spent together, whether at her house or your apartment, were put on hold with the excuse that Derek had decided to go home early, and to his wife’s misfortune, he never kept his promise. So both of you, alone, drifted out of touch.
There was no going back once your ultimate choice was made.
On the same night your plane left New York, the pouring rain carried in each drop a plea, a tear of sorrow, and a pair of angry hands that pushed the woman’s tender body up against the windowpane. Blood, insults, and the departure of the man who was in himself the failure of more than a decade of affection. Derek walked outside the room without hesitation, leaving behind a woman who was emotionally, physically, and mentally traumatized. This only strengthened the sense of abandonment she already felt.
Addison’s first reaction wasn’t to go after her husband or her cheating lover. It was to call you. Her trembling fingers dialed a number that no longer had a signal. She eventually found out in the worst way that she was all by herself. The beeps were redirected to voicemail. The dark night featured dew, rain pounded the roof, and the hum of a house that no longer represented a story.
She hurried to your apartment in the rain and desperately knocked on the door, screaming your name like a merciless prayer. That’s when your neighbor, a woman in her late sixties, stepped out into the hallway and embraced Addison’s silhouette, smaller than she had ever seen her before. The elder entered her own apartment, taking a deep breath as she pulled out a towel and a sweater for Addie, surprising her by the sudden embrace she provided.
The woman’s husky voice sounded like a plea. “Where is she, Dolores?”
She hadn’t noticed how much she cherished being with you, how you truly made her feel alive, even if only for a few hours together or between surgeries, you were always there with her.
Until you weren’t there anymore.
When you agreed to fly back to the United States, new job possibilities came to light: one in Seattle, another in New York, and one in Los Angeles.
As a result of your successful work with children in Africa, with additional teams to provide palliative care for the sickest and improve the quality of life for the tribes. It wasn’t predominantly about medicine, and certainly, the healthcare professionals who stayed wouldn’t let your work die. Given the magnitude of your worldwide reputation, your expertise would be in circulation and tremendously appreciated anywhere; you were well aware of that.
Yet all the places highlighted seemed to relate to a story.
New York held the weight of an ambiguous love, a friendship that dissolved into something platonic, and a thunderstorm of feelings you understood you would probably never forget, and as for Seattle... Well, you were definitely not one for the cold rain. Although the proposition of working with one of your former professors seemed like a promising alternative and a trip to the small roots you still had in the country. What was remaining for you was Los Angeles.
The bright fluorescent lights of the medical facility were indeed an element that discomforted your vision. After two years in a hot environment, where the sun was practically burning hot and the moon reflected warm shadows, that artificial light still made your optic nerves dry for a brief second, but it was something you would deal with head-on.
On your way to the nurses’ station, you exhibited high-heeled boots, black jeans that, for God’s sake, hugged your sleek leg muscles like a thin layer of skin, and finally, the creamy silk blouse that emphasized your eyes and the rich shade of your natural long locks. One of the female attendees who was chatting quickly gazed into your eyes; apparently, the perfume you had chosen to apply this morning got there seconds before your presence was acknowledged.
Armed with an almost sinful smile and a persuasiveness that was potentially just a breath away, your accent sounded a notch deeper than usual. “Good morning, ladies. Could you tell me where I can find Dr... Charlotte King?”
Soon after taking over as head of pediatrics and neonatology, your work at the hospital only taught you even more brilliance in the medical field. The residents and interns consistently expressed their desire to work under your name, and as a result, an increasing number of patients were referred to your care.
Despite your professional life taking off like a rocket, the beach house where you had been sleeping seemed to lack life. It was a furnished house with two bedrooms and a large balcony. Adorned for quiet sunny days, but it still seemed uninhabited, even after two years of residing in that place.
You had few friends; they were always cheerful and looking out for you in any circumstance you could anticipate, even though you only saw them when they were performing surgery at the hospital or when Charlotte insisted you go to her private practice for dinner and then give her a ride back to her house.
Positioned toward the cafeteria table, a cup of chamomile tea with warm milk and a word search magazine occupied your concentration. It was Friday night, and you were seeking the perfect opportunity to cool off and still stimulate your cognitive abilities. However, Charlotte appeared to have other intentions when she collapsed in the chair next to you and removed the Care Bears customized pen from your fingertips.
“Do you even realize what day of the week it is?” she arched her raised eyebrows in a mocking gesture. She noted that your intense engagement with work had prevented you from dictating space-time.
“Do I truly need to know?” the smile on her face emphasized that the next words would be like walking on broken glass with no shoes, so naturally, Charlotte established something you couldn’t argue against, even if you wanted to.
“Look, you never exit this hospital. When you’re not here, you’re in the lab working or in some operating room, changing the course of neonatal surgery. Your house is a cold place. In Los Angeles! You need to jazz up your personal life, dear.” her hand was covering yours, an act of concern and reassurance. “What do you think about dinner with the girls and then going to karaoke at that gay bar downtown?”
You let out a deep sigh, closed your eyes, and let your body loosen up for a second, then immediately broke into fits of giggles. “You should have started off with ‘gay bar’ instead of insulting me for being a workaholic.”
The moment Naomi hugged you, a signature aroma filled your memories. It was a fragrance you were sure you had been devoted to; it was completely distinct from the woody smell Naomi traditionally adopted; it was sweet, and you could feel that warmth in the bottom of your abdomen again, one that had left you in tears in the New York airport. Breathing deeply, just the four of you in the restaurant, it was almost impossible to get your thoughts out of that bittersweet aroma, and considering how Violet constantly appeared to be ready to vomit all night, it would be common to assume that both of them were withholding some information.
“What made you switch your perfume, Nai?” finally, the question that had been burning in your throat took its proper form. Everyone praised your art of analyzing behavior and, even better, persuading your prey to communicate precisely what you were trying to find out, not simply what you would probably want to hear.
“I... Didn’t.” she was cautious, which made her raise the glass to her mouth, where she took a mouthful of wine and glanced away at Charlotte. “Actually, Charlotte gave me a refill of the same perfume I bought for my birthday; something must have changed in the formula.”
Your jaw set, brain processing far quicker than gears. “Maybe... It’s charming; it reminded me of that old friend.” this made the two brunettes in front of you exchange a nervous stare. They agreed that they couldn’t keep the information to themselves for long.
“Actually, maybe this perfume belongs to the person you’re thinking of.” Violet let the cat out of the bag; it was now or never... well, not “never,” but a big change and possibly one of the most challenging parts since the beginning.
The three women learned about your chapter of the story with Addison Montgomery; everyone there had a previous relationship with her, but they were equally estranged when her marriage to Shepherd claimed over half of her social life. Despite being a feminist, Addison still maintained faith in marrying a man whose individuality was a walking red flag. This left her somewhat more alone than she was ever supposed to be.
“Thank goodness I’m not coming to the clinic soon. I don’t picture how I’d respond to looking at her again after so long…” you expressed. It was unexpected to think that even after four years absent from contact, that woman who was your best friend and first platonic romantic partner still influenced your mental picture of time, or potentially it was the dizziness that caused this downward spiral of mental chatter.
At that point, Charlotte had chosen to ask for the bill, paying for the weekly dinner as they had all agreed over time. The two doctors decided to go home while you and your best friend drove down to the bar. Charlotte was definitely more excited to go than you had previously been.
Upon arriving, you both marched directly to one of the tables most distanced from the crowd.
“Tonight we’re going to drink to get wasted and probably fuck. You, my boo, need to get laid.” the blonde tossed her cards on the table, waving to one of the waiters passing by, ordering two cocktails.
“We definitely shouldn’t talk about my sexual activities.”
Eight glasses of tequila and maybe two cocktails later, you found yourselves dancing to the loud music. The dance floor was overflowing, bodies sweating with heat and desire or just the euphoria of knowing they were in a welcoming space. As the night grew darker, Charlotte had successfully kissed two women and a polyamorous married couple and would very likely go home with them. As for you... Just glances, tangible flirtation for a while until a lock of red hair magnetized your attention. She was tall, with shapely legs and a generous cleavage, the devil walking on earth. Your mouth was watering, and for a brief period, so did the woman standing in front of you. When did she get so close?
“Adeline. Nice to meet you.” she extended her hand to greet you, and you responded to the invitation, taking her warm hand and bringing it to your lips, leaving a harmless peck on her knuckles.
After introducing yourself, she went directly to the point, setting her hand somewhere between your neck and loose hair, caressing the nape of your scalp, and scraping her sharp nails against your skin. Her lips were soft and salty, and yet she grew too smooth through the lipstick. Your rough fingers caressed the gentle curves of her hips, moving up until they brought her body between your legs, letting themselves be guided by touch, by imagination... Unfortunately, for your senses, all you saw was the ghost of Christmas past.
Even when you landed in a bed that wasn’t yours, in a room that would certainly not be yours, when between your legs was a glorious woman devouring you as if her life depended on it, your moans were real, of course they were, uninhibited, unfiltered, seductive like a promise to your own brain. Through all the whining, your heart screamed her name. “Addie, Addie please…” inevitably, you reached the peak, with her sweet smell in your head and the image of her red hair resting on your legs. The illusion, once again, in its purest form.
Later the following morning, you leave the apartment with barely a trace, your clothes still retaining the scent of the previous night. Looking down the street, you realized Charlotte had all your belongings, and by the late morning, she was almost certainly at the clinic.
You slipped your phone out of your jeans pocket and called the emergency number, leaving a short message on the voicemail. “Hey, Charlie. Uh... I’m about ten minutes from the clinic. I’m going to pick up my car, okay? Bye, see you in a minute.” your voice was harsher than expected, maybe even dryer. That’s how you ended up at the clinic with a large cup of coffee and shades, probably stolen from a stack in a very crowded store since they still held the price tag on the temple.
Perhaps it was the alcohol entirely vanishing from your body or the sunglasses blurring your perspective, but less than five steps away, Addison Adrianne Forbes Montgomery lowered her frame on the reception desk, arms loosening as she exchanged words with Dell.
At that exact point, the world immediately began to slow down, your cardiac rhythm pounding in your ears, a sudden fever sending chills down your cervical spine. Equivalent to a ricocheting bullet, a wave of emotional states that had long ago been bottled away and buried seven feet under the surface. That’s when the receptionist’s attention was drawn straight to your frozen silhouette. He called out your name in a cheerful announcement but quickly tracked the change in the atmosphere; during that moment, the redhead realized who that unconventional last name belonged to.
It was like seeing an angel, she remembered. For how much time had she been waiting for that comeback? All the forces of the universe were always playing comically against her: first the end of her marriage with Derek, then the love affair with Mark that eventually ended in an unborn child, and then the three-way romance that concluded with one of the interns in Seattle being heavily driven along by her ex-husband.
She needed a fresh start in Los Angeles, and what a twist of fate, this was the perfect place to reunite with an old flame... A burning spark that in Addison’s heart probably would have never been extinguished, for your joyful laughter was forever written in her soul. Even though your groundbreaking achievements in medicine were honored across the globe, the redhead in question had never thought your paths would cross again.
Addison was at a loss for words while entering the apartment after that rainy night. The decor was untouched, and your fragrance soaked through each room. However, the apartment became lifeless due to your absence. Not just from the residence, that neighborhood, or the country, you left her life. It happened so carefully that, amidst the waves of tears on the soft couch, wrapped in your sheets, with your perfume enchanting all her sensibilities, she watched as practically nothing could make sense anymore without you. Friday nights, rosé wine bottles, and even the hospital were no longer interesting.
Used to be so easy
To fall in love again
But I found out the hard way
It's a road that leads to pain
I found out that love
Was more than just a game
You're playing to win
But you'll lose just the same
The leaves danced like poetry in the collision of glances that undoubtedly carried hundreds of emotions, including relief and doubt; time did seem to fade away, resembling a scene from an Old West duel. Addison was the first to take the very first stride towards that wave of uncertainty, her heart also humming as if she had just completed a marathon in high heels. You could never adequately express how much you treasured those glowing eyes, so breathtaking even after so much time.
The expressions on both of your faces were exceptionally hard to read; Addison maintained her posture even though her eyes said the exact opposite. With a painful lump loosening in her throat, she muttered in a silent breath, “You're alive.”
A chuckle escaped your lips. You could deny any geographical separation; at that moment it was obvious that nothing had truly changed.
She was the same Addison you had fallen in passionate love with, and you were the charismatic and outspoken woman she had let into her heart and soul. Your eyes were basically the same, calm and comforting. Hair remained perfect and even more voluminous, and the sideways smile appeared, something Montgomery dreamed of witnessing again. She could say with all her tenderness that it was a dream; even so, you commented, “No need to sound so disappointed.”
“There you are!” your best friend Charlotte’s voice cracked, pulling both of you out of the mental space cultivated by nostalgia. The blonde came striding in with her hurried aura, meeting you. She smiled openly, a hint of mischief shining through simply because she knew how well your night had been spent. “Here’s your car key. It’s parked in my spot. Your purse is there, too.” she said, handing you the keychain that holds your house keys, your car key, and a red pom-pom along with a pendant of your personalized initials.
Addison examined that exchange of information with a furrowing eyebrow before clearing her throat and captivating the blonde's attention, who continued with a smile on her face and pretty much an infallible plan to fulfill a theoretical assumption she had in mind, due to your background with the clinic’s newest employee.
After greeting Montgomery, Charlotte immediately turned her attention to you, “Can you pick me up when my shift at the hospital is over?”
Your hands were sweaty, your face flushed from Charlotte's lack of filter. “Of course. Let me know when you’re finished.” you managed to reply, pondering the presence of your past right in front of you.
“You're a sweetheart! See you later, darling.” Charlotte said, standing on tiptoe and sealing her lips to your cheek. Before you could realize it, she was gone, and Addison was staring at your face with even more hesitation.
A deep breath, a masked relief, was all you needed to summon the courage to finally proceed along Addison’s steps, guiding her by the arm until you reached the empty office. Just when the redhead was standing in the middle of the room, she could hear the door lock and your stride to the leather couch, where you sat quietly and extended your arms for her to do the same as you.
“So... It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.” she began, tucking a piece of her red hair behind her ear.
“You cut your hair.” you pointed out, studying how that cut emphasized her authoritative yet charming facial features.
Addison couldn’t hide her bright smile, remembering one of the times you had inspired her to cut her hair, but she never had the courage to, mainly because Derek thought she would look older. “And you let yours grow... It looks stunning.”
So long, it was so long ago
But I've still got the blues for you
At that moment, the conversation descended into a collection of past emotional memories about how Addison felt distant in so many specific instances, but also in relation to how she lost your friendship so unexpectedly, leaving a wound in her heart. On the other hand, you failed to mention your burning love for her, only emphasizing how much you missed the friendship you two had founded and how, over time, the strings that held together that attachment had lost their way or essentially headed down different paths, as was to be expected. You talked about your two years of service in Africa, about the sleepless nights caring for children and mothers so young they barely could comprehend what was to come in their lives. She told you about the love affairs that adjusted her standpoint on life, directing her to Los Angeles. To you.
All this exchange was abruptly interrupted by both of your cell phones ringing, announcing a hospital emergency. Immediately, heading to the parking lot, you offered her a ride, and together, you went to St. Ambrose. In a very quick change of clothes into surgical scrubs, your chief resident detailed the case that was being transported by ambulance, and with your instructions, the team was ready to handle it. Addison was watching your conduct, waiting to do her part.
That case moved along like a smooth breeze, both doctors operating together as if they had been doing it for years, observing and anticipating each other’s precise movements so that the patient would finally become stable along with the baby, who would be born prematurely if the women weren’t so good at their respective specialties.
“Good work there.” Addison emphasized, catching your eye as you scrubbed your hands after the surgery.
You grinned, cheerful; you had always fantasized about that instant. “Thank you... Likewise, you haven’t lost your abilities with your hands.” a tender phrase of flirtation escaped your lips. From where? You had no idea, but whenever she was around, your filters dissolved like an uninhibited waterfall.
She giggled, feeling her cheeks heat up with the blush that observation induced. After that surgery, nothing would ever be the same, and you could feel the change in the surroundings as soon as you stumbled out of that operating room.
That week prior to their first mutual reconciliation talk, things at the hospital soon started to collapse completely. As more potentially fatal cases arrived at their door, schedules became chaotic, day could turn into night, and shifts could no longer be twenty-four hours but rather further extended. There was definitely no time for naps between surgeries; just a coffee and a muffin would be enough for that wave of babies, children, and mothers with health complications. Amidst all that chaos, your thoughts traveled straight to Addison, who was taking on the night shifts so she could also be in attendance at medical appointments at the private clinic. The purple scrubs stood out; only neonatal attendants wore them, and as opposed to you, Addison was looking like a glowing goddess in them, which made your heart race when she smiled at you, her eyes exhausted from a week without a break from work.
Your attire was anything but traditional, and Addison considered it your distinctive style. Working with children and their mothers, your scrubs had small handmade stars, and for a few days she swore she saw some embroidered designs there too, on the hem of the shirt and pants—maybe a Care Bear or a Disney character. When she approached you, you didn’t pull back from a tight hug, keeping your face snug against her neck as if that would take away any tiredness from your body. She felt exactly the same. Your perfume activated her senses, causing her to cling even more tightly to you.
So many years
Since I've seen your face
But here in my heart
There's an empty space
You used to be
“Are you doing okay?” you asked, whispering in her ear and attaching one hand to the nape of her neck, caressing it as if the entire world had simply stopped in that empty hallway, where nurses were shifting from one side to the other, checking on patients.
She breathed in, slowly detaching you from the tight embrace, and when she caught your eye, her throbbing exhaustion made her guide you to the first on-call room in the corridor.
“I need a rest, and so do you, so come here and let’s rest.” she demanded, lying down on the bed and pressing her back against the wall, leaving enough space for you to lie down next to her.
It wasn’t something you were completely used to, but another thing you missed those nights in New York where you both shared a bed or a couch. When you lay down next to Addison, her arms found your waist, and she buried her face in your neck. Your arms worked their way around her body, wrapping her in a warm and cozy embrace. Your heart pounded in your chest, that hidden passion coming back like a high-speed train, overpowering your senses and driving hot tears to well up in your eyes.
A pout escaped your lips; you had waited so many years for this moment, however platonic it might be. “I love you, Addison Montgomery.” you blurted out, holding low your voice.
She wasn’t asleep.
Both bodies lingered affectionately in that small bed, intertwined, maintaining the warm feeling of comfort and the full attraction of two hearts that had been bruised on their way back to each other. Addison was seeking a fresh start, oblivious that coming back to the past would only heal all the fears and frustrations she had built up from toxic relationships with her former best friends. It was this moment that she understood that the problem wasn’t her and her misconceptions about falling in love with friends; no, the problem was that none of those friends were you.
You were the one who was holding her hand through questionable choices without question, the one who also embraced her when things didn’t go as originally planned. Addison vividly remembered the wedding day; even knowing you weren’t one of the bridesmaids, you were beside her and muttered in her ear that everything would be alright, that it was a mutual decision, and that getting married had always been her dream. She knew, deep down, that the union was for status and ego. Even so, you were there, in a crimson dress so exquisite that she wondered twice about the need to go down on your body and devour you completely, even knowing there were only minutes remaining before she had to walk towards the Shepherd family name.
Archer took her, and she looked so beautiful in her wedding dress... You felt that still-growing passion tighten, grow to the point where tears of pride faded and eventually turned into tears of sorrow, because witnessing the love of your life marrying a man who didn’t deserve even a fraction of the woman she is was genuinely torturous. After the “I do.” Montgomery’s bright eyes searched for your figure somewhere among the family members. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find you.
For the first time that late afternoon, she felt half her heart tighten. Because she had affection for Derek, and she also felt that you were holding back the most tender and joyful aspects of her.
In the following years, you were constantly present, and you were frequently at game nights, playing doubles with Mark Sloan. She was jealous of that, of the close relationship you two shared. For a long time, Mark had a particular aspect of you that she wished belonged to her. It wasn’t a sexual affair; you were always very open about your sexuality, something she respected given she was a coward in admitting that potentially her happy ending wasn’t with the current husband at the time. You and Mark talked about women openly and even had a little battle to find out who could collect more numbers on the nights you both went out. Even if Addison was jealous, she noticed that you respected her marriage and would never bring up that kind of subject with her, a friendship about intimate and lustful matters without judgment.
In your arms, Addison could leave her heart open to be taken care of, broken, or rescued from an anguish she had experienced her whole life. After four years without you, she came to figure out that time would never be her true friend, that you might have grown so much that you would certainly never let her come back into your life.
Then again, you were intertwined in that moment, and even though she was ready to ask more about the conversation she witnessed between you and Charlotte, she also knew that you would never lay down with another woman if you were in a committed romantic relationship with the doctor.
“Please, Addison. Stop thinking. I haven’t slept in two weeks, so please... Let me have this break.” you positioned yourself more comfortably in bed, consequently bringing your faces one millimeter away from the woman in your arms. Your breaths became one, and at this crucial moment, Addison couldn’t rest.
Her hand reached up to meet your face, emerald eyes tracing every delicate feature before she could touch, index finger memorizing the curve of your nose, the small freckles on your rosy cheek. You opened your eyes, conscious of what was happening. When your impulses became louder than the indecision in your subconscious, you moved inches closer, brushing your nose against hers in an affectionate caress. Addison felt her skin tingle, closing her eyes to feel that exchange of affection more intensely. She felt your hand travel down the fabric of her scrub top and move inside, finally touching the skin of her back, caressing it with delicate fingers, drawing her body closer. She wrapped one leg tight around your waist, lying down with half her body pressed against yours.
“I missed you so much…” she said, swallowing hard.
So long, it was so long ago
But I've still got the blues for you
You should get up and move on, abandoning any thoughts that held you in this position and never gazing at the past that way all over again. You called all three of your friends on the night you left for Africa, but your cell phone vibrated once. Somehow, Derek showed up, wishing you a good flight and letting you know he was going home early to surprise his wife. That night, Addison and Mark didn’t answer the phone. With your chest cramping from anticipating what had been happening, the first few minutes of the trip felt suffocating. Heavy breathing, hot tears, and irreparable anguish. You fell asleep halfway to your destination, as your body was weakened. Over time, you acquired the ability to be free of the anchors that surrounded your heart, allowing you to radiate happiness beyond the need for societal restrictions. You learned to smile openly, to dance in the rain, and to see life from a completely different point of view.
That’s why you refused to leave. This time, without marital partners or lovers involved. No forcing yourself to pretend that your heart wasn’t holding out for hers. You stayed simply because love doesn’t just vanish overnight; respect, affection, pride, and the feeling of friendship—all of that was the culmination of the reasons why. From the minute you fell in love to the moment your senses had to pause to breathe, break down the situation, mature, and eventually, be able to surrender.
“Now you’re the one thinking out loud.” Addison chuckled, looking up and resting her head on her hand.
You carefully approached the door, unlocked it, and waited for the redhead. "Let's go home, Addie." both smiled brightly, which was just what you needed. Home.
Though the days come and go
There is one thing I know: I've still got the blues for you
⸻ english is not my first language, but I hope you enjoyed it. constructive feedback is always welcomed! let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics. thanks for reading! 💞
I’m accepting requests! if you enjoy my writing and want to read a story about a specific character, I’ll do my best to make it happen!
a special kiss to Lai, who encouraged me every step of the way in writing this story. I love you forever, baby. 💋
synopsis ∶ with sharp suits and keener instincts at work, gothic rituals, and emotional armor at home, a brilliant detective maintained a carefully curated distance from the major crimes and the LAPD. she is effective, unreadable, and silently essential. Adam has watched her from the edges for years; what starts with small gestures becomes something harder to ignore.
warnings ∶ slow burn romance, friends to lovers, emotional vulnerability, bisexual female character, gothic and emo aesthetic ﹙mentioned﹚, workplace setting ᐟ romance, found family, touch-starved characters, alcohol use, romantic tension, protective Adam Karadec, soft but intense intimacy. no use of y/n. edited in the slightest.
When I was younger, I saw
My daddy cry, and curse at the wind
He broke his own heart and I watched
As he tried to reassemble it
And my momma swore that she would
Never let herself forget
And that was the day that I promised
I'd never sing of love if it does not exist
Los Angeles was particularly peaceful at that time of year, which even has a funny taste in the mouth when considering that the City of Angels never goes quiet or gives a breather.
This was one of the reasons why you and the major crimes team were commanded by the lieutenant to share some beers and old stories, probably already heard and very fondly remembered that night. The thing is, since your first day, none of your fellow employees really knew your style, not that you didn’t explicitly demonstrate your preference for dark clothes and a variety of accessories... Between the practical clothes of the team and the colorful wardrobe of the recently hired consultant, your clothes seemed a little more customized besides the corporate goth style.
All that and the tattoo that ornamented your spine. Identity is about who you are and how you choose to show yourself to the world, both privately and publicly, outside of what the LAPD considers to be one of the top agents in the last five years. Would it really be a good decision to portray yourself in this way? To choose once and for all to show your teammates who you authentically are?
In an attempt to brighten your psychological state, you decided to put on some CDs, emo songs that surrounded the apartment like a mantra. The upbeat melody swirled through your senses until your hair was styled, parted, and pinned in the middle; the dagger-shaped hair clip added an essential charm, highlighting the freshly touched-up color. Makeup was the key point; what else to expect on a Friday night?
Digging through drawers of endless products, your skin would be what you normally used: foundation, concealer, and natural contouring, while blush and highlighter added more definition. For your eyes, the chosen eyeshadow brought a special enhancement to the color of your irises, along with black eyeliner and pencil shading.
You only needed a few makeup adjustments when the doorbell rang. At first, it seemed like just part of the song, but even so, you got up, heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water while singing.
Then, the knocks on the door startled you, stepping behind the refined wood and looking through the peephole to check who it was before sliding open the door.
“Karadec.” your voice came out surprised, and he greeted you with a nod while making efforts not to take his eyes off yours.
Truth be told, Adam had been quietly determined to get to know you better for years.
Beyond the cordiality and friendliness at work, he knew that somewhere you were hiding something that no one would be able to contain. Even so, he agreed that some people enjoyed, or simply required, separating work and personal life. Disappointed with some attempts to make small talk, he kept it in the spectrum of mere mutual respect, even though you occasionally went out to get lunch or for ice cream together after a case. It was always a moment of meditation and understanding. So, he ended up gathering a mental list of everything you had mentioned or seemed to like, which would help him at least put some of the pieces of the puzzle together. “I... I presumed we were going to meet at the bar. What are you doing here?” fair question. He didn’t even know either. Providing him space to enter, you were so wrapped up in your own atmosphere that you forgot you were only wearing a cropped top and lace panties.
Adam had noticed this, which made him stop in his tracks at the door and stare at the floor. He respected your space, and it wouldn’t be any different just because you were outside the police office.
“Um... I remembered you telling me your car was in the repair shop, and since you didn’t pick up my calls nor receive my messages, I decided to come check if you were okay and if you could use a ride.”
The information made sense in your head for the moment, considering that what was driving some insecurity was the fact that Karadec had always stared you in the eyes, from the very first instance. Why would that have changed now? Was it the music or the makeup? With a sigh, you walked back to him, holding one of his hands.
“You came here to check on me, and you can’t look me in the face?” he glanced to the side, searching for paintings on the walls or any cracks in the dark ceiling.
What he found was an apartment designed to house a gothic queen, he thought. A vampire. A countess, someone whose beauty transcended her pure essence. “As long as I truly appreciate that you feel comfortable with me, I don’t know if you’ve noticed... You’re close to being naked. That’s all.”
Your thin eyebrows furrowed and cheeks flushed with realization, which made you run to the bedroom to finally change clothes. Adam chuckled, taking half-steps to where the music was coming from, lowering the volume of the player a little before sitting on the sofa and waiting for you. It was almost comical how some pieces fit together; the endless CDs and books on the shelves surrounding the room were a reflection of your intellectual personality, yet a little cheeky and reserved.
Some artificial plants formed illuminated silhouettes by the dim lights and candles; the detective let his curiosity guide him as the portraits on the wall revealed some people from your past, some he even recognized from photos posted on social media, and finally, the smile you kept in a locket, your mother’s smile.
“Okay, I believe I’m ready. What do you think?” you said, stopping at the door to finish putting on your bat earrings, twirling around to show off the outfit you’d chosen at the last minute.
The detective’s eyes fixed on the chosen color palette, on how everything seemed to resonate with your smile, even the shine of the silver accessories. “You’re definitely going to turn heads with this look. I love it,” he declared, smiling as he offered you his arm. “Shall we, madam?”
“We shall.”
But darling, you are the only exception
On Monday, you felt the need to dress up even more for work. This was partly due to the fact that everyone on the team seemed to love and approve of your style, but also because you knew Adam had been staring at you all night, becoming more clingy, always guiding you by the waist or arm, being receptive to your conversations, or ordering another drink before yours was even finished. Morgan's observation that Adam had a particular fondness for fictional vampires may have seemed absurd to you; however, upon an in-depth examination of your wardrobe, it was amusing to deduce that you may also have a fondness for grumpy, gentlemanly detectives.
Your last experience wasn’t something you were proud of. You fell in love with an older woman who worked as a teacher at the police academy and started dating her before you realized you had just destroyed a home. However, the general put you in a tough spot and threatened to kill you if you didn’t transfer to a different precinct. The disapproval you received from your brother at the time was something you thought about a lot; besides, he was the only person you still had left. No matter how complicated life got, he was always there. Through fights, disagreements, disgust or pride, joy, and moments of despair and relief. It was a relationship where lessons were key.
On the way to the police station, you went to the central café, picking up two orders before finally parking at the station and marching towards the table of the particular person you had been hoping to see since Saturday morning, when you woke up hungover and he called to check if everything was fine. Just as you reached your destination, Daphne and Morgan caught your attention with whistles and a round of applause; your outfit had really stood out that morning.
“There’s our beautiful lady vampire!” the consultant flattered you with a positive comment and a broad smile.
Adam stood resting on the edge of his desk, canvassing the scene before him. The three smiling women suggested that it would probably be a good day, as everyone seemed to be in a good mood. As for you... Literally took all the oxygen he had and held it back, along with that shimmer in your eyes, as you walked towards him. Karadec was surprised when one of the packages was handed to him. You didn’t pay much attention to his reaction as you sat in his chair and took a sip of coffee, leaning back and pulling up your feet to rest them on the table, next to the thigh of the man who watched you with a huge question mark on his forehead.
With a slight nod, Karadec decided to simply accept his fate and opened the package, finding an espresso and the containers of his favorite dessert: apple fritters. He wasn’t the only one keeping notes. “How are you today?”
You simply shrug, laughing a little. “Please, don't make me think about my life.” he appeared to laugh too but didn’t buy that weak smile of yours.
That moment was cut short when Selina drew the attention of all the agents to a new case; another week was getting started, and this time, everything would be quite different.
From that moment on, you seemed more open to bonding. It wasn’t just Adam you were generous enough to bring small gifts to. You may have occasionally babysat little Chloe when Morgan and Adam went out to work their brilliant minds’ abilities. Your job was to examine evidence and data, and you were outstanding at it, even if it was just an excuse to avoid going out so much. Oz and Daphne presented themselves as an elderly married couple of nearly one hundred years; it was funny to see them walking on glass when in reality they were committed to the same passion.
It was comforting to have the sensation of something so lovely surrounding that structure, which did appear to be laden with prejudice and cruelty.
When the two work-partners showed up at your office door, Chloe was lying down in your warm embrace while you read something on the computer. The toddler girl’s face was on your chest like a koala, a fluffy cloth preventing her drool from touching your silky shirt. The blonde prevented Karadec from entering completely, gesturing for him to be silent while your perceptions hadn’t yet detected them. Morgan scanned Adam’s face as he watched the unfolding scene; you’d obviously been in that position for a while and would kill every person who tried to take the little one from your lap, even if she were awake.
“You should propose to her before I do.” the baby’s mother whispered, jokingly, but tempted to cry at the thought that for once in her life she wouldn’t really have to feel concerned about Chloe’s safety or whether her children would be loved by people she considered family. Her friends, who would be more family than those who left her behind, something she had in common with you. She could easily identify that pattern of protection and loving attention from several miles away.
Your focus was shifted to the two individuals waiting in the doorway, and you simply pointed out that they might enter. “I helped prevent a murder today!” you told them, setting a couple of papers in the middle of the table to sign before the workday ended.
“Really? How exactly do you do that?” Adam observed, sitting down in one of the leather chairs while Morgan positioned herself at your desk and stretched out her arms, ready to take Chloe from you.
“Self-control. Oz had attempted to steal this lovely, petite creature from me.” Morgan hesitated to do what she had previously intended, but you only maintained a serious expression for a few seconds before laughing and handing the baby to the blonde.
Karadec couldn’t contain a broad grin at seeing you so open to the possible outcomes of friendship such as this; his chest vibrated, and he barely caught sight when Morgan said goodbye to him, leaving the two of you alone in the room where you were doing your investigative alchemy. Your fingers snapped in front of him.
“Hey. You seemed lost there for a minute, huh?” your eyes searched his, focused on something you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet.
He ran a gentle stroke through his beard, closing his eyes for a moment. “Long day... And it’s refreshing to come here and see you being so affectionate and protective with a child.” he confessed, not believing what he had indicated.
Your eyebrows lifted, still digesting his words. “What does that mean?” you picked yourself up, crossing the room and standing behind the chair where Adam was reclining, gently pressing your hands on his shoulders, offering a still, calm, exploratory massage with your fingertips. Clearly, he was tired and needed to allow his mind to rest. “You can talk to me, Karadec.”
The man remained so still throughout the massage that he turned out to be purring beneath the skillful fingers that somehow reassured him that he could feel calm again. When his eyes popped open, he held your hand and placed a kiss on your palm, searching for your face and smiling with genuine gratitude.
“You made me realize something. Thank you for that,” he confessed, and you sat beside him, still holding his gaze as if breaking it would shatter a spell. “Oh, and you’d definitely stay away from Morgan; she threatened to put a ring on your finger when we came in here.”
You chuckled and shook your head. “She can try. Despite the fact that I also enjoy women, my personality type is entirely different from Gillory's.” with your admission, Karadec understood your frustrations and anxieties, which had previously caused you to distance yourself from other peopl⁹e's opinions.
“Must be the baby.” he thought aloud, standing up and bidding you farewell with a kiss on the top of your head.
Maybe I know somewhere
Deep in my soul, that love never lasts
And we've got to find other ways
To make it alone or keep a straight face
And I've always lived like this
Keeping a comfortable distance
And up until now, I had sworn to myself
That I'm content with loneliness
Because none of it was ever worth the risk
Morgan observed an unusual occurrence the morning you and Karadec failed to exchange greetings. Karadec was preoccupied with his work and did not use his lunch break as an opportunity to observe your smile, as he always did. In contrast, you elected to assume responsibility for a case with Oz that necessitated spending the entire day conducting investigations, recording alibis, and locating suspects. At the end of the workday, Morgan got on the elevator last, so you and Adam got in at the same time.
His smile didn’t even reach his eyes; your stomach tightened at that. It was as if, from one particular moment to the next, your sense that everything could possibly ever be in harmony had been distorted by something you probably did. Since there was still one floor of the parking garage to go, you decided to talk.
“Hey, I—I know you’re not the homophobic type, so I am confident that my bisexuality did not cause you to abruptly distance yourself from me today. So please, tell me what you need or what I did wrong, so I can fix it or listen to you.” Adam realized your words sounded heavier, more emotional than usual, and certainly replete with uncertainty. He didn't have time to speak before you practically ran towards your car.
Your apartment was freezing; the moment you locked the door, your senses were triggered by the icy airflow from the window you had not remembered to close that morning. Taking off your shoes, pants, and jacket, you tied your hair back and walked towards the kitchen to start making dinner. The soundtrack for the evening was going to be something extremely dramatic by the band Paramore, and your voice made everything more enjoyable.
Now was your moment to disconnect and let go of any feelings that had left you forgotten. Perhaps returning to being a “lonely vampire,” as Daphne described it? Take on another unit to work in and avoid Karadec and his friends altogether? This was a challenging concept, particularly in light of the previous days' exchanges and affection, which were intended to foster enduring friendships.
What you didn’t know was that Adam was on his way to your house with an apology and answers with your favorite flowers. His brain had short-circuited the previous night; aware he would never have that with anyone else.
Even when he tried to marry the supposed love of his life, he would never find someone like you. Someone he had always admired, whose every step he paid attention to since the first glance. Your smile always made him because it wasn’t like any others. Despite the quiet spirit, you were similar to an avalanche, inebriating and bringing even more chuckles. You brightened practically every place you passed by, and for five years, Karadec had been trying to name the feeling that was growing slowly in his chest.
Watching you expose yourself to have friendships, letting him enter your life equally, all that time was worth the wait. Because witnessing you in that room, working and holding with such care a child you have no responsibility for, made him understand.
Not focusing on belonging to someone, but about setting aside his own personal preferences to please others... You proved to him that affection is linked to letting the other person spring up in your presence and on their own. It's understanding that sometimes what one might need is a moment of calm and someone to be there watching you blossom, not cutting off the roots of a beautiful flower.
Well, you are the only exception
The notes, ice cream, coffee, the silence, the comforting partnership... All of that led to the confirmation he needed, and inevitably, he remembered the night you two showed up at the bar together, well, just a few minutes before that.
Adam wasn’t blind; he often caught himself admiring your body from across the room. Considering the more formal clothes you wore, the dark colors sculpted your figure sensually to his eyes, accepting that you might not even notice. So, seeing you come through the door in just panties and a thin blouse made him lose his mind; his heart raced violently. A crush of many years in that situation would certainly shatter his heart, and it didn’t stop there.
He took you to the bar and made sure not to leave your side, paying attention to your words, laughing at your jokes, and guiding you tenderly through the night, then making sure you got home safely.
Your fragrant scent hung around in his car, something noticed the very next morning; that perfume smelled of red flowers yet still had a distinctive impact. His lunch order was similar to yours, and in the mornings, he started ordering two coffees while you brought the donuts and apple fritters. You had become essential in his life, and for these reasons, the night before, Adam dreamed of something that his respect and moral code didn’t align with, given its utter hypocrisy.
He could say and guarantee that the other night he didn’t look directly at your body, not even at the low-cut blouse you chose to wear, and yet, his brain made him dream of an entirely libidinous situation with you. Where your bodies danced in perfect rhythm, where your eyes darkened with passion and your chest tightened, melting into love. Adam woke up sweating, frustrated that something like that had crossed his mind, because it was you, because of his respect, because he had enjoyed it so much, and because he had craved it so profoundly. Karadec wasn’t sure if you wanted the same, if you felt the same affection for him as you did for Lev, or not.
Somehow, he was searching for answers, too.
As soon as he rang the doorbell, his hands sweated with anticipation; diverse feelings raced through his head, including the notion that he didn’t want to lose you and he would let that passion fade if that meant he got to keep you in his life. All of that melted away when you appeared. Clean face, loose hair, and low light made your features even more captivating.
I've got a tight grip on reality
But I can't let go of what's in front of me here
I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up
Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream, oh
“May I come in?” he handed you the flowers and waited for you to let him in. As soon as he entered your apartment, his nervous hands found the pants pocket. You placed the bouquet in one of the empty vases next to the front door, observing that the flowers weren't cut. It was something you truly cherished about the detective: how he always listened to everything and always paid attention, and you didn't need to say anything twice for him to understand. “I had a dream we fucked,” he admitted.
Your facial response was one of surprise before you burst into laughter, having to sit on the sofa to catch your breath. Adam sat down beside you. “You know that flowers are usually for before or after romantic activities, right?” your words were pure teasing, although you found the underlying purpose of apologizing charming. Adam seemed unusually nervous. “Relax, Adam... It was just a dream.”
He scratched the back of his neck, taking a deep breath. “Huh. Yeah... I wouldn’t fuck you.” definitely not the first time he could possibly sleep with you. Adam Karadec was a lover at heart; he would cherish every part of your body, from the gentle curve of your ear to the hollow of your foot, if he could. He noticed a certain hesitation in your eyes. As if two cautious wolves were on the hunt.
You are the only exception
“You wouldn't?” it was your turn to finally make a point about something you both have been thinking about for a long time. That's when you moved toward the older man and raised your hand to his freshly shaved beard, caressing it while focusing into his eyes in a way Adam swore he had never witnessed before—a look filled with hunger and desire.
“I mean, unless you want to—” he began, but you were already a step ahead, pressing your lips to his in a steamy kiss. Adam smiled mid-kiss; it was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had hoped for, and everything you could never have imagined experiencing with just one kiss. Your limits were removed, your walls completely destroyed, and finally, Miss Vampire would no longer sleep alone in that eternity.
And I'm on my way to believing
Oh, and I'm on my way to believing
⸻ english is not my first language, but I hope you enjoyed it. constructive feedback is always welcomed! let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics. thanks for reading! 💞
I’m accepting requests! if you enjoy my writing and want to read a story about a specific character, I’ll do my best to make it happen!
So, I had this idea mid-chapter. Maybe I'm having too much fun writing again, so that's it, I thought: "what if we add a little bedazzle?" and here we go. 1.6K not edited. O1. O3.
intimacy.
Once the baby in your lap fell asleep, you settled them back into the sling, taking time to recover from the post-breastfeeding anxiety. It was a mixture of relief and the weight of being in such a situation accompanied by a human being who barely understood their own actions. In a perfect stranger’s car, with the month’s groceries and the most important person in your life. All this because your wife had chosen a new career path, something less demanding for this new beginning.
Unlocking the door, your body moved carefully, and the redhead noticed your distress, paying attention to the following movements. Your gentle walk to where she was sitting, occupying the opposite side. Finally, introducing yourself with your first and last name. “And this little symphony of snores? That’s Kai– out cold.”
The older woman chuckled, still composed in the face of the sensitive situation she was witnessing. Somehow, she could see in your eyes the determination, the passing of tiredness, and a rather unique maternal strength. Clearing her throat, asking.
“How old is this tiny lovely thing?” the hoarse, yet calm voice brought tranquility to your senses for a moment.
“Just hit five months not long ago.” your smile brightened like an arrow cutting through the wind. Melissa found herself caught off guard and completely hypnotized by the warmth that led her to find your lips with the gaze of her eyes, but that soon faded once your phone started to ring.
Curling up on the sofa with their feet on the older woman’s lap, their eyes were lost, trying to focus on a solid point on the dark wall while delicate hands massaged their feet. Although the day had passed quickly after Dana’s small stumble regarding the day’s schedule, their mind wouldn’t let that redhead figure out some of their thoughts. The kindness in helping someone in such a fragile moment, asking for absolutely nothing in return. Besides offering a calm setting for them to nurse the baby, she also made sure to assure them that everything would be alright, even without knowing what was really going on in their lives. How their world had changed.
Your spouse slipped her bare fingertips up your legs, moving herself even closer to your body until she could touch your hips, caressing the skin beneath the sweater.
“Hey… Talk to me, my beautiful angel,” the blonde whispered softly, fixing her gaze on your face, now flushed with embarrassment at being caught in thought. “What’s going on with you, huh? What’s got you like this?”
“We moved to a new city. After we got married, everything shifted. We don’t have friends here, no jobs yet—nothing but this apartment and our baby. It’s all in Pittsburgh!” your voice was overflowing with emotion; you missed your friends even though they’d only been apart for less than two weeks. “I know this move mattered. For us, for the baby… I get that. I didn’t just go along with it because I’m madly in love with you; I could have said no, and we would have stayed. Not only that, but I made the call too.” you paused to breathe and look into her eyes. “It’s a lot. And today? I felt so vulnerable… More than I’m used to.”
“I know, my love. I know. I’m sorry about today,” her husky voice, softened by years of cigarette smoke, muttered against your lips, leaving a longing kiss. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll adjust. I promise. You’re not going to feel exposed like that again. Not like this,” the lump in her throat was similar to the one from a few months ago, when she arrived back home with a bloody nose from a work incident while you were resting with the newborn baby. “Not on my watch.”
At that moment, however vulnerable she had felt, Dana was at ease knowing you weren’t working that day, because it could have been you arriving home with your whole body dizzy, out of sorts, and bearing no chance of spending another day in an emergency room without thinking back on the dozens of times you’d had to defend yourself from patients throughout your career.
Noticing your wife’s reverie, you pulled her by the waist ahead of giving her any time to react; your free hand reached the tip of her chin. With eyes closed, you pressed your mouths close together in a stolen kiss, slowly sucking on those soft lips, savoring the smile you earned from your wife. The older woman’s warm body, pressed against yours, instinctively wrapped her arms around your neck in a strong and affirming embrace. The smile gracing her rosy lips was sealed by your affection, which she reciprocated with even more tenderness.
Taking in the unique scent of their arousal, a murmur reverberated as a warning; the devotion Dana felt for her companion was overwhelming. As soon as she inhaled the scent typical of your presence, her heart rate instinctively raced. The collision of their mouths, her blood pressure was worrying. Soon, her cheeks turned pink, a mixture of shyness, as if it were the first time, as well as happiness at the moment of finally being alone with you.
Holding onto her back, bringing your hand to the nape of her neck, your fingers entwined into blonde hair. Introducing your tongue against her anxious mouth. She sucked on the kiss, rubbing her tongue against yours, savoring the taste, the flavors, and textures. Separating your lips only by the pressure of their breath, the older woman pressed your foreheads together and brought the fingers of both hands to your flushed face.
Gently tapping your cheeks in a genuine caress, she sealed your lips once more, warm and admiring. Butterflies fluttered freely throughout your body; being in your wife’s company was always a carnival of feelings.
“You know I love you, right?” Dana expressed through a warm, gentle smile. “God… I love you so much it’s ridiculous.”
Effortlessly resting your face on the caresses of the woman’s gentle fingers, you savored each moment, each second, each touch as if it were the very first and the last one. Thus, you exchanged kisses again, shivers running through your every corner, every side, as she clung to your mouth. You held your breath until it ran out, then murmured against her swollen lips.
“I know. And I love you just as much… But if you leave me out on the street like that again, I’m heading back to Pittsburgh. No looking back.” she couldn't help but smile, nor laugh out loud at it, as a spontaneous reaction. An idea crossed your mind. Since the baby was born, you and your wife hadn’t enjoyed intimacy in months. “Good thing Melissa showed up when she did.”
“Who’s Melissa?” she lowered her lips to your neck, leaving a reddish bite along with a trail of saliva. Dana loved engraving your skin with her teeth, even more so in areas where everyone would know who you belonged to.
Her sneaky hand moved towards the middle of your pelvis, sliding down her fingers rather slowly through your folds.
“The one who let me take a breath in the back of her car.” she could feel how wet you currently were, tightening your walls on the tips of her fingers in anticipation. “A real sweetheart.”
“Oh, yeah? So she was your knight in shining armor, then?” keeping your legs open for the older woman, Dana admired the trail of fluid that trickled between your folds.
“Mhm… Carried the bags and stayed close… The whole thing.” it seemed magical how much naughtier you had become due to the pregnancy.
“That’s real kind of her, baby. Must’ve caught your eye, though– you don’t just stop and chat like that for nothing.” the nurse could declare that she grew even more insane for you with each passing year.
“You should’ve seen her, my love…”
“Yeah? Go on– tell me, what about her had you so distracted??” she was obsessed with every part of you, so she spared no effort when her precise fingers found your clitoris, touching its contours and stimulating it at a pace that was almost torturous.
“Her body… The way that dress didn’t leave much to the imagination either– curves, hips just the way we adore them, love. She’s perfect. For a second, I almost lost myself in what she was saying– I could only think about kissing her.” at no point did she take her eyes off your body, your features. Analyzing how your mind was responding to every touch.
“Look at you, my precious thing… You look so sweet, all wound up talking soft like that.” Dana buried her fingers deep inside you; with each thrust she admired your pussy tightening around the wedding ring on her left hand, vaguely touching your clitoris with her index finger just to hear the pretty sounds you made. “If I had gotten there sooner… I might have had to thank her properly. For taking such good care of what’s mine.”
Your eyes rolled back with pleasure; her touches would never bore you. That woman knew every part of your body as if she had an instruction manual or a treasure map. In no time, you were in melodious sobs, your body convulsing as you milked on the older woman’s fingers.
The smile on her face was something you would always fall in love with every time you witnessed it. That wicked smirk… It was one of the tools she used to disarm you.
“As much as I love hearing you get all worked up thinking about me– and whoever else crosses your pretty naughty mind. I want to see how much of me you can take today. C’mon, get this juicy ass to bed.” the blonde commanded, getting up and tasting you in her mouth, sucking on her fingers while staring at your shiny eyes, lacking any sort of filter.
📌 ∶ not sure if anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters of this story, so please tell me if you do. also, I have no idea what the title of this story should be... any thoughts?
synopsis ∶ nothing could have prepared you for this moment: the signature, the ending, and the person standing quietly beside. Olivia Benson. telling herself she can live with the guilt. what she doesn’t expect is the captivated pull towards you… or how impossible it becomes to ignore.
you don’t expect any of it either. not how easily understanding grows through cracks you thought were sealed, where resentment should have taken root.
warnings ∶ angst, emotional infidelity, divorce, guilt, complicated relationships, mutual pining, slow burn, comfort, friends to lovers, mentions of canon-typcal trauma. suggestive dialogue and flirting. no use of y/n. edited.
ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ ᅟ₊ 𓅓 ᅠMASTERLIST
chapters ∶
* ⸻ᅠᅠ001 . . . unbreakable.ᅟᅟᅟ﹙ intro ﹚
⸻ english is not my first language, but I hope you enjoyed it. constructive feedback is always welcomed! let me know if you want to be tagged in the following chapters or future fanfics. thanks for reading! 💜
I’m accepting requests! if you enjoy my writing and want to read a story about a specific character, I’ll do my best to make it happen!
Just a small draft on Melissa Schemmenti. Maybe I'll turn this idea into a series. Not sure yet. 1.8k not edited. O2.
teardrops.
After spending a long day chasing around nearly forty second-grade children, the only thing the teacher needed after arriving at the small apartment in the Philadelphia suburbs, was a glass of wine and a shower where she could release all the stress built up that afternoon. Tossing her keys onto the living room coffee table, she sat on the small red sofa to remove her old mud-stained boots, knowing she’d have to send the leather pair for a professional cleaning. She also removed the jacket, and thus, the armor that one woman insisted on wearing every day began to dissipate. In that particular space, she ceased to be Ms. Schemmenti and became exclusively Melissa.
Longing for some quiet, she didn’t feel the need to turn on the main lights in the house, only the living room lamp that illuminated the narrow hallway through which her body was guided to the bathroom. While the heated water filled the bathtub, the woman made her way back down the hall to the kitchen, taking a crystal glass and a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. Once pouring herself a glass, she wasted no time before bringing the red wine to her mouth, savoring a sip of the citrus notes, and letting out a soft sigh of relief.
When the day’s clothes reached the laundry basket and she could finally step into the warm water, all the muscles in her body relaxed. Along with the pleasure of the alcohol intoxicating her senses and the warmth embracing every part of the glass, besides all the ups and downs, Melissa was grateful for another year she was still standing.
During a school year without a break, a divorce that led the woman to the small cubicle she tried to call home and the failed attempt to find someone to meet her most basic needs. It was no wonder she had valued silence when arriving home; she herself had a talkative mind. Plus the noise of school, voices and chairs scraping, the markers on the boards, sneakers and sandals dragging on the floor making distinct sounds, and her bad luck in choosing trivial, boring, and saccharine men without emotion or too attached—it was as if the fairy tale was repeating itself again and again. Leading her to cling to what she had long done best, giving herself a quiet time.
No background music, no external noises, just Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti and her existence. However, nothing was as expected, and perhaps she didn’t deserve so much peace. That’s what she thought when the loud noise coming from the apartment next door got her attention. She couldn’t immediately identify what it was, but that didn’t make her happy about it either; her neighbors were gentle old people who went to bed before seven, and in the year she had lived there, nothing had disturbed any of her serenity yet.
Given that the moment had ended in the blink of an eye, she finished the shower almost hurriedly, removing every trace of soap previously applied with the help of a sponge, and she went to the room to change clothes, deciding that sleeping like that would be best. Without the texture of pajamas or a mixture of floral scents from moisturizing creams. With her body dry, she took off the towel, threw it on the dressing table chair, and settled her body under the covers.
Fortunately, the bedroom was located facing the street, away from the previous noise that interrupted her silence period.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the window, warming every crack it touched, her warm body waking up slowly, stretching like a lazy cat. It was the first day of summer break, and Melissa knew exactly how she wanted to spend the next few hours. She didn’t hesitate to put on the first sundress spotted in the wardrobe, a thrift store found in pastel shades with a white background and blue flowers. Sitting in the vanity chair, she chose to tie her hair up in a bun with bobby pins, put on earrings, and a single necklace. For makeup, she opted for something light: mascara and a cherry red lip gloss.
In contrast to the previous night, when she got into the car, the album selected for that day was a complete compilation of Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong that she found on a music app. Calmly singing the lyrics of “You Won't Be Satisfied,” the streets passed before the redhead’s eyes like a story fading from memory, because a year ago a man of average (almost nonexistent) good looks only gave up when he signed the divorce papers, when her heart was in pieces after being betrayed; even through tears she tried to fill that void with kisses and affection. Melissa had been reduced to a traditional housewife, a faithful one besides the background of cheating in her teenage years. Over the decades of marriage, all she received in return were complaints, making her heart ache for every day she tried, declared, and got lost in a fantasy that wasn’t hers to begin with. Joe was only satisfied when he destroyed all her dreams, taking away her youth, her dream of being a mother, and having a home full of affection. He even got her house through the courts, since the deed was in his name.
A final tear ran down the woman’s pale face; she would never cry for that reason ever again.
Walking through the regional market where farmers set up their trucks and stalls to sell organic produce, Melissa felt her chest warm; the smell was familiar, the people were the same at that time, and everything was going as expected. As she put on her prescription glasses to examine one of the jars of preserved goods, another hand brushed against hers, causing the redhead to close her eyes in irritation before finally hearing a melodious voice apologize for the inconvenience and turn its back on her, observing that they didn’t wait for a response from the Italian woman. Melissa said nothing but noticed that the stranger’s hair cascaded down their back, an unusual color that didn’t seem black nor brown. She shrugged and continued into some of the stalls, haggling with some of the vendors.
Receiving help to put two boxes in the trunk of her car, she thanked the boy and handed him a fifty-dollar bill. Even though the teacher’s salary wasn’t much, Melissa always helped at the farmers market or independent workers as best as she could.
The cries of a baby caught her attention. On one of the benches outside the municipal market, that same figure from earlier rested with a child in their arms, calmly cradling the baby even though their face expressed the urgency they were in. Head tilted to the side as they stabilized a cell phone between their shoulder and ear. She knew the staring was longer than necessary; it was strange, besides, she had never seen that person there before.
“Oh– hey, hon! You said you were coming to get me. The baby’s crying, and I ain’t great at breastfeeding out in public, okay? I could really use you right now.”
Melissa watched, noticing how your face betrayed the tiredness, the grayer lines under luminous eyes. “What the hell?! No– I’m not taking a damn taxi! Alright, alright... Fine, I’ll head your way. Give me ten minutes.”
Her heart tightened when she saw you put the phone away and fasten the baby back into the sling. Your naturally pouting lips sealed the child’s still restless forehead with a promise, and a wave of comfort seemed to awaken within them. The bags you were carrying in tired arms were obvious, which made the Italian woman approach discreetly but still clearly in your visual field.
“Hey, let me help you with that,” she declares, giving a friendly smile and taking two of the bags from your hands. “I’m Melissa.”
When you looked at her face, your eyebrows were arched; it was one of the last things you would expect in that city.
“You don’t have to. Thanks, though.” you acknowledged, running a soft hand over your own cheeks; you really needed a plan. “I... I just need a minute to calm my baby down a bit. Is there somewhere quiet around here I could sit? Just– away from the noise?”
Melissa was absolutely certain that her orbit, the downcast and monotonous routine, had been pushed aside. Analyzing the situation as a whole, she was happy to be able to help; she couldn’t imagine dealing with a newborn and the weight of an expense in her hands while alone on the street. That’s why, in addition to standing next to your figure, holding some of the bags so you could have a rest, the redhead offered: “You both can use my car. It’s parked right over there if you want.”
She observed the way your expression went from fatigue to confusion and disappointment in a fraction of a second. The laugh that had slipped from your lips was as painful as a stab in the back, and Melissa couldn’t quite explain why.
“Alright, ma’am. Your approach could use some work! For the record, before you attack me, I need to at least defend my honor.” your words came out sharply.
Something revealed that maybe you spent too much time dealing with this type of approach, and that had been instilled in her. You were certainly not from Philly.
Why is it always like this? People just expect things from you… No heads-up, no asking; like it doesn’t land on you afterwards, like it doesn’t cost you something.
You were tired. Really tired.
Briefly rummaging through your shoulder bag, trembling hands gave up the search before your brain could reason, “I've got pepper spray. Somewhere…” your murmuring made Melissa shrug mid laugh and start walking towards her car. “Screw you for making me look for it right now, lady!”
When you found the self-defense device, your gaze followed to where the woman was waiting for you, leaning against the car with the door open.
Your throat tightened; being in a new city without many acquaintances was something that would faithfully backfire.
Somehow you walked to the older woman; she succeeded in taking the bags from your hands and handed the car keys in your direction, saying she would put the products in the trunk until you had time to focus on the restless baby in your lap.
From this point of view, you were in control. With the car keys in hand, you got into the back seat, and shutting the door, you locked yourself inside the vehicle.
Melissa didn’t remain strictly close to the door; she sat where you had been and took her cell phone out of her pocket. It was strange to think that the first act of kindness shown to you came from a complete stranger, who probably did it out of pity.
A few tears fell down your cheeks as you detached the sling from your body and held the baby close to the nearly exposed neckline.
📌 ∶ @schemmentigfs , @rosie6reyes , @moonabbott , @marvel210 , @myownworriedshoes , @theywerer00mates , @derpyavocado ⸻ let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics. thanks for reading! 💞
Summary: movie night with Melissa. A simple invite and several questions to interrupt the movie. What could go wrong?
Warnings: slight smut tease, slow burn
————————————————————————
Melissa and Johnson are whispering across the teachers lounge about their movie night to watch the new Avatar movie. Not at all keeping their secret plans from reaching the ears of anybody who was left in the room.
Which results in Barbara getting a regretful invite. You’ve heard the rumors that it is quite impossible to get through a movie with the refined woman and her millions of questions. You couldn’t imagine a 3+ hour long movie with cgi.
“Good luck with that, imma just see myself out.”
“What are you gonna do, hon? Girls night with Janine or boys night with Gregory?”
“Oh, I don’t think I was invited. And honestly, don’t think I wanna be. Sounds messy.”
“You could say that again.” Melissa snorts. “Have ya seen fire and ash yet?”
“No, it’s on my list though.”
“Don’t tell the others, I don’t want them to bug me for future invites. But would you wanna join us boring folk for a movie night? Can’t guarantee we’ll get through it all but we’re gonna try.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to invite me, I don't wanna intrude.”
“Nah, I’m offering’. Plus imma need a buffer when these two keep interrupting.”
“Alright, umm…sure thanks. Can I bring anything?”
“Any snack you prefer, we’ve got wine and popcorn. My house at 7. See ya, kid.”
You pull up to her house in your yogas and a cream pull over. And now you're self conscious. Maybe you should have thrown some jeans on or dressed up a little. You contemplated turning around and bailing but the bigger part of you knows you’d never turn down the chance to be around Melissa.
You also enjoy when the trio includes you. Barbara is so wise and her one-liners crack you up. And Mr. Johnson, well, there’s no one-way to describe him. He’s an icon.
You knock on the door and hear Melissa shout from somewhere inside the house. “It’s unlocked!”
Not really comfortable about just walking into her home. After a deep breath you push the door open.
“In here, hon.” You follow the sound of her melodic voice noting the hint of raspiness at the volume used to carry through the rooms. You greet Barb and Mr. Johnson on your way through to the kitchen.
“Hi…umm I brought some hot Cheetos and dill pickle seasoning for the popcorn.”
“Interesting…I might have to try yours. I’m a sour cream & onion girl, myself.”
“That’s good, too. Can I help with anything?”
“Sure, wanna bring the toppings out and the glasses? I’ll be right behind ya with the wine and popcorn.”
“On it.” You line the glasses upside down between your fingers for the four of you in one hand. Then you proceed to wedge the chips beneath your elbow and the seasonings in your other hand.
“Hey guys! Have you guys seen this one yet?”
“Nope, was gonna watch it by myself but Melissa has been trying to get me in her home for a while now. I felt bad for her. So I caved…gotta let her down easy.”
You giggle at this but feign understanding. “Thats kind of you, Mr. Johnson. I’m sure she’ll be heartbroken but she’ll be able to move on.”
“Does it matter if I haven’t seen the first two?”
“Umm, I think it’s kinda self explanatory once you get into it. I haven’t seen it yet though. Just protecting territory and uniting differences against humans.”
Just then, Melissa walks in with a giant bowl of popcorn and 4 smaller bowls for individual preferences. And two bottles of wine. “Alright, any more questions or concerns before we start?”
Barb rattles off three more questions pertaining to the history and settings of the plot from the first two and Melissa finally hits play.
You are sat between Melissa and Barb on the couch and Mr. Johnson pulled up a chair to face the movie on the other side of Barbara. Claiming he didn’t want to give the redhead any ideas while sharing a couch with her. Which she just rolled her eyes.
An hour later you are only about 30 min into the movie from having to pause it for Barb to ask her questions.
“How about when you have a question you just google it on your phone.”
“I can take a hint.”
“It wasn’t a hint.”
You kept quiet as you tried to hide your smirk. However you did notice Melissa kept sneaking handfuls out of your bowl more often than her own. You were happy to keep refilling it for her as it rested in your lap.
30 min later you were growing tired finding it hard to get wrapped up in the suspense having to pause every couple minutes for Barb and Mr. Johnson to whisper about the fun facts behind the making of the movie.
Your head starts to loll and this did not go unnoticed by Melissa. As your head started drooping Melissa guided it to her shoulder.
“If youse too don’t pipe down over there I’m gonna go watch it upstairs and youse can finish your book report on the movie down here.”
The sheer irritation in her voice vibrated against your ears and you jolted up instantly blushing. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep and since you weren’t sure how much of the movie you actually missed you don’t know how long you were out.
“Shoot, sorry. I didn’t mean to use you as a human pillow. Didn’t even know I fell asleep.”
“Don’t worry, kid. Ya didn’t miss much except for how they used cgi to create the different creatures and the magic of green screening.”
“But how did they-“ Mr. Johnson started to ask Barb before Melissa threw in the towel.
“That’s it. I’m watching this upstairs. Y/n, you’re welcome to join but no questions.”
“In your room?” Before the blush was able to dissipate from your face from sleeping on her it rose back up with ferocity. You don’t think you’d survive being in her bedroom. Alone.
“Nah in Caleb’s room. Yes, mine. You comin’ or not?” She grabs a bottle of wine and the big bowl of popcorn since they’ve barely touched theirs. Too busy researching. She tops their bowls off and leaves the other bottle for them.
“Uh, sure.”
“Grab your chips and seasoning.” You noticed she left her sour cream & onion on the coffee table.
You follow her up to her room and she’s already pulling the movie up and setting the space up on the bed. She reaches for the hot Cheetos and you hand them to her but stay standing next to the bed.
“Ya just gonna stand there? I don’t bite.” She remarks before dumping some of the hot Cheetos into the big bowl of popcorn. “Unless you want me to.”
Your mouth falls open as she punctuates her claim with a wink and goes right back to mixing up the popcorn.
“Right. Yeah…I’ll sit. Sorry.”
Melissa holds out her hand for the dill pickle seasoning and sprinkles it graciously over the entire bowl. “You okay, hon?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…never thought I’d be in your room. It’s very you.”
“You’ve thought about being in my room?”
“That’s not what I meant. I-“
“I’m just teasin’ ya. Relax, why dontchya.”
You sit criss crossed next to her and shake the bowl to mix it all together. “I’ll go back to where you fell asleep.”
“You don’t have to, I can fill in the blanks.”
“It’s fine, it’s probably only 10 minutes. We’ll still finish before them.” She presses play and scoots to rest against the headboard with the leg closest to you bent at the knee. Inadvertently, pressing the length of her shin along your quad.
Suddenly, you are wide awake. The drowsiness from earlier is just gone. There’s no way you’ll be able to focus on the movie now.
When a scene would get really intense her hand would clasp around your leg. After she would squeeze your muscle before pulling her hand away, oh so slowly.
As the credits rolled, your emotions were all over the place. From the rollercoaster of suspense in the movie and Melissa’s close proximity. “Geez, that was so good. I’m unwell.”
“You don’t clap at the end of movies do you?”
“No, I don’t clap. I’m not a bafoon.”
“Good. Otherwise I’d kick you out and never invite you back.”
“Wouldn’t want that, now would we.”
“No we wouldn’t. I’m glad you came.”
“Really?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I don’t know. Cause you’re…you. And I’m me.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” Was she offended or genuinely confused. You weren’t sure but were quick to make sure it wasn’t the former.
“I just mean you’re this hot, funny, wise, fiery Italian. I mean you’re a little intimidating but in the best of ways. Everyone looks up to you but you don’t minimize yourself for the sake of others. It’s bewitching.”
“Wow, hon. That was somethin’.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to just word vomit on you.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m flattered. So you think I’m hot?”
Shit. Did you say that out loud? To her? In her bedroom? It’s too late to take it back now. Not that you would.
“I have eyes.”
“Good to know.”
“More wine?” You offer to top the glasses off in order to change the subject.
“Might as well, I can hear the tv downstairs. They still have at least an hour left so probably another 2 hours at their rate.” She sucks her thumb into her mouth to remove the remaining seasoning and you beg yourself to tear your eyes away.
Excusing yourself to the bathroom to wash your hands and returning to top off both of your wine glasses. She had moved the bowl and snacks to the nightstand while you were away.
Crawling back on the bed her eyes drop to your chest seeing that the quarter zip that you left undone gapped open just a little.
She looks back up with a twinkle in her eye and passes one of the glasses back to you. “Cheers, hon.”
“Cheers, Ms. Schemmenti.”
Her eyes darken at the name and you swallow around a healthy gulp of wine. “So what else have you thought about?”
Your eyes go wide in fear. Trying to come up with something that won’t completely confess your feelings for the woman. “I’ve thought about if I’d ever be privy enough to taste your cooking?”
“Really? Well why don’t we go and raid the fridge. I’m sure I’ve got some leftovers from last night.”
You both head downstairs and see that they have the movie paused once again. “You guys are missing out on the experience of suspense every time you stop to look something up.”
“No spoilers, Melissa. You’re just mad I didn’t accept your invite to your room?”
“I didn’t invite you.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Whatever.”
Melissa finds a Tupperware of pasta from her dinner the previous night. She heats it up in the microwave as you lean against the counter in anticipation. Once ready, she forks a bite full and blows on it. She lifts it up to your lips to feed you and you open your mouth on instinct.
Sucking the last of the dangling noodle through your lips, you hum in delight. You close your eyes to savour the taste. “My god! That’s delicious.”
When you open your eyes again Melissa’s eyes are trained on your lips. She raises her hand to swipe the sauce off your chin. “Tastes just the same, if not better, the next day.” And she smiles at your frozen state.
She takes a bite herself and you two share the leftovers in silence. Her feeding the both of you with the shared fork.
“Much better than I imagined, thank you.”
“I love cooking. Maybe I’ll have you over for dinner sometime and I can cook for you.”
“I’d love that.”
You both retreat back to her bedroom to let the other two finish the movie. Once in her room she shuts the door behind you and stares at the door. You turn to face her but her back is still to you.
“Melissa, is everything okay?”
“Yeah. There’s just something I wanna do but I’m not sure.”
“Melissa Schemmenti, unsure of something. Now that’s unheard of. What are you wanting to do?”
She finally turns around to face you. She takes one, two steps towards you. She looks between your eyes trying to ask but can’t find the words. But then they drop to your lips. And the question is asked.
You brush the hair out of her face and silently hoping she does what you think she wants to do. Hopefully it’s not just wishful thinking.
And finally she captures your lips with hers. It's tentative at first. Exploring. She pulls back after a few beats.
“Sorry. I think you’re hot, smart, and a complete mystery to me.”
She pulls you by the hand to the bed and you both presume your positions from earlier. “I’ve thought about that, too. Kissing you.”
“And?”
“Better than I imagined.”
“Me too.” She leans over you to hover above your lips. “I really wanna do it again.”
“What about Barb and Mr. Johnson?”
“They’re too busy.”
This time you lean up to kiss her. Threading your hands in her hair as it falls around your faces, you arch into her pushing your breast against hers. You both are now on your sides, pressed against each other.
Her hand splays out on your stomach and slides up underneath your pullover and when she reaches the under flesh of your breast she moans.
You hadn’t worn a bra underneath so there was in fact no barrier between her hand and you. Her hand palms your breast before stroking your nipple with her thumb.
You gasp in response and her tongue slides against yours. “Oh fuck.” You breathe into the air. She adjusts her hips to place her knee against your core. Your hand lands on her ass to pull her into you.
Your quad is now brushing up against her heat and the only thing you wish for now is that there weren’t any clothes separating you two.
Melissa pulls away once more. “Shit, hon. As much as I want to keep going. They are right down stairs.”
“I know.” You kiss her once more. Intending for a peck but turns into your lips sliding together and tracing the roof of her mouth with your tongue. You pull back again.
“I wish these walls weren’t so thin.” She laughs while resting her forehead against yours. “And no bra? Almost like you planned this.”
“Shut up. I did not.” You shove her shoulder as she rolls off of you. “But I’m grateful either way. I just hate bras and thought this was baggy enough to get away with it.”
“Yeah, I caught a glimpse when you bent over earlier but didn’t know you were so scandalous.” She says before pushing your top up and holds eye contact with you.
“I was not being scandalous!” You laugh before she sucks a nipple into her mouth. Your hand flies to the back of her head to keep her in place. “Oh Melissa, I-“
She releases it with a pop before pulling your top back down and kisses your lips. “Sorry, I’m done. Just wanted a taste.”
She settles against the headboard and starts another movie. She pulls you to lay your head in her lap as she plays with your hair.
“Y’know, I was a little nervous about coming tonight.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to embarrass myself. I wanted to be invited back.”
“Well I already invited you back for dinner.”
“So I take it I haven’t embarrassed myself too much?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Good.”
You both turned to watch the movie before you fell asleep in her lap. She watched you sleep for another hour playing with your hair until the movie ended. She discreetly scooted down to lay on the pillows with your head on her chest to fall asleep.
When her alarm goes off she gently wakes you up. “Morning, hon. We need to get up.”
“Oh shoot. It’s morning already?”
“Yeah, got about 2 hours of sleep.”
“Shit.”
“I gotta go get the other two stanzos up off the couch.”
You both make your way downstairs to see they are still watching the final scene of Avatar. Melissa grabs the remote and pauses it.
“What are you doing?!” Barb exclaims in betrayal.
“Youse still haven’t finished it! And we gotta get ready for work! You and Y/n can borrow some clothes. Mr. J-“
“Never leave home without mine.”
“I’ll make some breakfast for everyone. Chop chop.”
“Need help with breakfast?” You offer up.
“I’d love some help, hon.”
Lisa Ann Walter's side piece. @lawolsonlover - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
