Summary: Your strength had always been subdued, you made sure of it. The facade of your soft touch slips is when you finally fall asleep against your girlfriend for the first time.
"If you love me, let me go!" - Panic! At the Disco
The thing Daniela loved best about you was the gentleness of your hands.
Your hugs were soft, your arms wrapping around her waist or around her neck in a way that made her feel like she was art being carefully handled by a restorationist. The press of your fingertips into the back of her hand when your hands are intertwined was always unforgettable, leaving an unseen mark but never a reddened imprint. Your palms were always that perfect kind of warm that she loved to have pressed against her skin as a grounding method.
Daniela loves being yours, loves how your arm draped carefully over her shoulders would lull her to sleep in the tour buses and still be there by the time she woke up. Your touch had always reminded her of canopies providing shade from harsh rainfalls, and it seems even the fans had noticed.
It's a thing now that Sophia is known as the defacto strong one. The one who could sling Manon across her back like an empty backpack, the one who could carry Megan without breaking a sweat as if she was a bunch of grapes- The typical leader expectation of being able to carry everybody's word at her back.
You're the one the fandom calls soft. The one who always ends up in the middle of a group hug because everyone claims that you run perfectly warm, the one that everybody jokingly says they love the most because whenever one of them speaks- You pay undivided attention with something deep and patient in your eyes, like you would listen until the world explodes.
Another thing that everyone noticed is how you're always the one to sit things out when the others get down with rough housing. You cheer on the winning party, encourage the losing one, walking over to ensure that they're both fine after it's done- But you never join in, always shaking your head and finding a way to slip out of the chaos once it begins.
Safe to say that it felt like everybody's world got flipped on its head when you fall asleep and unconsciously let go of the restraint they never knew you exercised daily.
You flop onto your girlfriend's lap with a groan, coaxing a startled laugh out of the Dancer. Half dead and half zoned out, you bring your arms around her waist and squeeze gently. A sign she has since come to recognise as you craving and wanting affection.
"Hello, mi querida. Tired, huh?"
The gentle tone of her voice does nothing to keep you awake, especially not when one of her hands come up to gently scratch her acrylics against your scalp and the other comes up to rub its palm against your back in a soothing motion.
"You have no idea."
You mumble into her shoulder, snuggling even closer despite your position already ensuring as little space between you as possible, as if you wanted to crawl under her skin. Daniela humors you, tightening her hold on you as she presses a bombardment of kisses against your hair.
"You can nap, amor. I'm not going anywhere."
You think you responded. You assume you did, but in truth all you managed was a nod of your head before you're immediately off to dreamland with no further ado.
Daniela chuckles fondly, letting herself continue with the small motions of her hands for a few minutes before slowly stopping after a while. Content to sit beneath you and act as your bolster pillow, she digs through her bag with one hand- Successfully fishing out a book and getting started on reading.
Megan passes by with a small satisfied smile on her face, one that grows as she notices you sleeping on your girlfriend. She eyes you for a moment before looking at the girl currently pinned under you.
"Out like a light?"
Daniela nods, mirroring the Chinese girl's smile as she looks up from her book.
"Like the power line snapped."
The joke draws a muffled laugh out of Megan, who walks away while shaking her head in fondness, promising Daniela in a whisper that she'd tell the others to try and keep the noise down for you.
Your girlfriend nods in thanks before going back to reading her book. Noting that somehow, Megan had succeeded in ensuring that the rest of the girls behaved for you, if the lack of bantering sounds in the air is anything to go by.
An hour passes by the time that Sophia comes over to kneel by your sides.
"Hey guys, van's down at the entrace. Let's go home."
With a nod, Daniela gently shoves the book back into her bag before stretching her legs out and moving to wake you.
"Amor? Van's here. You gotta get up, c'mon."
All she gets in response is a soft groan of refusal, the gentle shaking she tries to employ on you being completely useless as you continue to sleep like a petrified log. Sophia smiles at the sweet display, only tilting her head as a wordless way of telling Daniela to hurry up before making her way back to her own bag to pack up.
"Alright, mi bebe somnoliento. Let's get you up."
She moves to gently pry you off of her, only for your arms to tighten around her frame with surprising strength that makes her feel like she's being squeezed by a giant snake rather than being smushed by what she knows is supposed to be her soft, gentle girlfriend.
Daniela gives it two more shots, trying to adjust her now-pinned arms only to find that she's unable to even freely wiggle by an inch. On the third unsuccessful attempt, she accepts defeat. Calling for the other member with the strongest arms in the group.
"Hey, Soph? A little help? Please?"
When the Filipina looks over her shoulder to find the dancer absolutely helpless, she lets out a laugh. Shaking her head but not wasting any more time in walking over and crouching by her member's side once again.
"Alright, Dani. let's set you free!"
Sophia places her hands on your shoulders, tugging gently but firmly in an attempt to get you to let go of your girlfriend.
She tugs once. You don't even budge.
She tugs twice. Firmer this time, but you don't even flinch.
Daniela keeps her eyes trained on the Leader, unable to feel the three unsuccessful attempts that have already been made.
"Well? Get on with it."
Brown eyes finds hers, wearing an incredulous expression. Sophia stutters, renders the Latina speechless after whispering that she had already tried to get on with it. Three times, each firmer than the last. Exasperated and desperate to be set free, Daniela tells her to try again, and Sophia concedes to the command.
"Alright, what if I-"
You must've felt the way that Sophia gently slid her hands across your tightly wound arms, because your hold tightens even more. Now trapping the poor leader as well as further squeezing your girlfriend- Who lets out a breathless yelp at the action.
"Touch me n' I'll put you in the dirt."
Sophia's hands freezes in its tracks. Daniela’s already shaking her head with eyes widened in a pleading manner before the Leader's apologetic gaze even meet hers.
"Soph, no. No, don't you dare-"
She does it anyway. The Filipina's hands slowly retract, returning to their place by her sides inch by inch in a careful manner- Leaving Daniela to suffer her own fate.
"Sorry.. I really am! But I'm not sure I can take her in a tussle!"
The raven-haired girl is running back to the rest of their members before Daniela's able to get another word out. Sophia must've told them what's going on with you and your girlfriend as soon as she makes it back, because suddenly five pairs of eyes are staring at her with disbelief palpable on all their faces.
"Hey there, Megs..."
Sophia gives the all-rounder a solid pat on her shoulder before proceeding to leave with a two-fingered salute as if to say 'Good luck, soldier.'
Not a moment after meeting her gaze from across the room: The traitor chuckles with a nervous smile before holding up her hands and uttering out an excuse about needing to take a call. She bolts out of the door with her phone still in Lara's hand.
"Lara? You wouldn't leave a fellow woman to suffer, would you?"
She smiles, sweet and saccharine and Daniela's spine almost sags in relief. Except the words out of the Tamil woman's mouth was absolutely not what she was expecting to hear.
"Yes I would, actually. See ya at home!"
Manon's eyes widen in horror as she stares at your tightly wound arms around the Latina. When she looks up to meet Daniela's pleading gaze, the Visual only raises her hands up in surrender before speedwalking out of the practice room, quickly trailing after Lara who had all but turned into a comic speedster when Daniela started asking for help.
"Girl, ain't none of us willing to get fucked up- Least of all me. You're on your own now, bye!"
With Manon, Sophia, Lara, and Megan out of the room- Daniela looks to her last resort in desperation.
"Ummm.... Let's see."
Yoonchae stutters before slowly making her way over to Daniela's side. For a moment, relief floods her body over the assumption that at least one of her groupmate isn't a coward. But then the Maknae reaches for Daniela's bag instead of your body, riffling through the contents before a small victorious 'Aha!' leaves her lips.
The Korean pulls out Daniela's car keys, setting them by the side of the trapped woman's hand before standing up and slinging her backpack over a shoulder.
"You don't need the van to get home."
Yoonchae gives her a pat to the top of her curly head before walking out of the practice room at a leisurely pace. Gently closing the door shut behind her without even looking back once.
Daniela stares at the empty space of the rehearsal room with disbelief. Trying to wrap her head around the fact that she just got abandoned by people she thought she could trust, after being deceived by her own girlfriend no less.
This time, when Daniela looks back at your peacefully sleeping face, she's no longer smiling. Instead her eyes narrow down to vengeful slits before she lets out a declaration of war against your oblivious form.
Summary: Daniela has never been a patient woman, always jumping the chance to shoot her shot over and over again the moment an opening presents itself. But you're not just a moment, and she doesn't want a bullet spray.
So in the process of learning how to wait for the perfect moment: Daniela learns how to shoot a different kind of shot.
"After all these years, I still feel everything when you are near."
Everyone always asked her when it began, and she'd think about it as hard as she can. But at the end of it, all Daniela could give as a reply was a shrug of her shoulders. It's difficult to try and pinpoint a specific moment she started falling in love with you when she couldn't remember a time when she wasn't head over heels for you.
How could she not have fallen for you? When she met you at a dance competition as a child and you asked if she was nervous- Her four year old self had taken offense to that, using her bravado as a wall to hide the erratic beating of her heart.
You'd looked at her then: Open and Honest and Admiring.
"It's cool that you're so cool, I'm so nervous. I thought if you were too, then maybe we could hold each other's hand and be nervous together."
She remembers being shocked at how easily you admitted that, as if nervousness wasn't the greatest downfall of a performer before a show.
The competition ended and she never really got to be your friend, but she remembers keeping the picture where all contestants were gathered together because it's all she had of you then.
Daniela no longer remembers that competition in the local gymnasium, no longer remembers the music that played through the choppy speakers, nor the steps to the dance;
But she remembers the girl who was brave enough to step onto the concrete stage and do her best anyway. She remembers cheering for that nervous child and remembers being cheered on by her too.
Time has a way of washing away memories bit by bit until there's nothing left of certain pasts. But Daniela holds onto the memory of that nervous child with all her might and she emerges victorious in her uphill battle against an inescapable part of life:
Thirteen years later, she still remembers Y/N as clearly as if no time has passed at all.
She has always been the religious kind, it was a given considering her roots. All her life, she never fails to thank God every single day for the most important things that she considers herself blessed with:
1. Thank you for my family whose love is unconditional.
2. Thank you for the privilege to be chasing after my dreams.
She recites her prayer with gratitude, devotion, and humbleness. Never once asking for anything in return, keeping in mind her Mama and Papa's words that whatever God has intended for her will always find a way to be hers; While what isn't will always slip through her grasp like water through fabric.
Always content, always sure. Daniela has never felt the need to strive for more. Only ever doing what she can to the best of her abilities and whispering thanks to an omniprescent being that is watching over her with love and protection.
She is Seventeen when she gets into Dream Academy. Seventeen when she walks into the practice room of the most grueling trial she will ever know, finally feeling the nervousness that a fellow four year old once told her about before the start of a local competition.
Her palms were clammy and her heart was racing, standing alone by the wayside and simply looking over her competition while the introductions are underway when the most important name from her past makes it's way to her ears.
"Y/N L/N, please step forward and introduce yourself."
You step forward with a smile that looks like candor: Your nervousness palpable in the hesitant upturn of your lips. Your hand waves through the air in a quick, but sure motion.
"Hello, my name's Y/N L/N and I'm excited to grow into my best alongside each and every one of you."
Her turn comes up a little later than she hoped it would, and she takes to the front of the room like she was born to command attention.
"My name is Daniela Avanzini, and I'm ready to see this through to the end."
She sees some eyes going cold with ice, some spines straightening with seriousness, some shoulders squaring at the prospect of eliminations. Daniela knows that her self-assuredness has made her the target of snakes slithering in the grass, knows that sharp whispers will be directed at her in a matter of time now.
But none of them mattered as much as the eyes that sparkled with recognition when she spoke her name aloud, the seriousness of the blooming competition fading into peace when excited hands unclasp from each other to wave excitedly at her.
She waves back and finds that she still sees the brave child in you, in your eyes that never seem to hold contact for too long, in your hands that always clasp together, in your short exhales that meant you're trying to slow the pace of your heart.
Three days pass by and the brutal regiments knocks each trainee back and forth through practices like a ping pong ball. No one has the time to get to know each other just yet, and you both fly around each other's grasp like birds in the sky: Together but not quite so.
Daniela is Seventeen when the list of things she is thankful for begins growing:
1. Thank you for my family whose love is unconditional.
2. Thank you for privilege to be chasing after my dreams.
3. Thank you for bringing Y/N back into my life.
It's the end of the first week when everyone finally gets to breathe. When conversations finally take place and friendships are built and loose threads are tied together again.
It's the end of the first week when Daniela finally finds the down time to approach you and get to know the person that the brave little girl of her memories has grown into.
There are no hellos, no small talks, no ice breakers on her lips. Daniela walks up to your spot on the floor and sits herself down beside you like she belonged there all these years.
Your eyes meet hers and you smile. It's small and nostalgic and soft- The very the opposite of her grin that's confident and unrestrained.
"Still nervous about the competition?"
The callback to thirteen years ago draws a fond laugh out of you, and your next words spill forth just as truthfully and just as bravely as they did the last time you saw each other.
"I always am."
This time though, Daniela's pride is not a wall that blocks you out. It rests on her shoulders like armor as she outstretches a hand to you.
"I'll hold your hand through it all."
Your smile goes from lipped to grinning. Your spine straightens with boosted strength, and your shoulders square with security that she has only ever seen on you in the middle of performing.
When your fingers intertwine with hers without hesitation, Daniela's sinful pride burns brightly like fire doused with gasoline: She feels like she's already won this survival show.
Daniela has never seen what a real beating heart looks like before. But by the second month of Dream Academy, there's undeniable proof that makes her think you might just be it.
Exhibit A: You're the center of attention after every practice, the other trainees circle around you like how the planets orbit the sun as you hand out smiles and compliments.
Exhibit B: Megan who's usually so shy around anyone who isn't Lara, begins smiling your way and wrapping you up in a hug when you find your paths crossing.
Exhibit C: Lara who's usually so serious and only handing out tight lipped smiles ends up with shoulders that have less tension than they did before talking to you.
Exhibit D: Sophia who usually stands alone on her own will opt to sit beside you and rest her head on your shoulder as you ask about the latest updates she got about her family.
Exhibit E: Whenever homesickness hits Manon hard, you spend time with her and she ends up looking like she's ready to take on the world and win- Despite her puffy eyes and reddened cheeks.
You bring hope wherever you go, instilling strength into those who manage to get even a singular minute of your time. It makes the harsh words of the trainers and evaluators stop feeling like poison tipped arrows embedded in their hearts and instead begin feeling more like challenges that everyone can't wait to overcome.
Daniela admires your radiance, soaks it up like sponge dropped in water as she stands by your side for moral support which she's pretty sure you don't really need.
Some of the other trainees look at her with guarded eyes, like her presence is a spy's audio tag that they have to worry about- Sometimes it makes her feel lonely, especially when Sophia is off consoling a crying trainee and Megan and Lara are off in their own little world together.
In moments like that, you pop up beside her, wrap one of your arms around her shoulder, and suddenly she doesn't feel as invisible anymore.
But even the brightest lights dim sometimes, and even sunlight can find itself dampened when grey clouds roll overhead. On the first day of the third month in Dream Academy: Daniela finds you in the stairwell with vacant eyes and drooping shoulders, and she doesn't know what she can do to chase the storm away.
She tries for you anyway.
"You don't look nervous, but I'd still hold your hand in you need it."
She said it with a light hearted tone, hoping to find atleast a small upturn of your lips. But instead you keep your eyes trained on the lowest floor five flights down. You don't smile, you don't flinch, you don't chuckle- For a moment, Daniela thinks she shouldn't have tried with a joking tone and she's about to apologize when you speak up.
It's tired and heavy and no louder than a whisper.
"I think I need a hug more than a hand to hold."
Daniela nods once; Resolute and dedicated like she's a woman who has been given a mission. She immediately steps closer to wrap her arms around your body, holding on tight and burying her head in the space of your neck.
When the silent sobs begin to shake you: Daniela tries to hold you together, cradles your broken pieces in her hands so none of it gets lost or forgotten. She hums underneath her breath with her lips pressed against your collarbone so you could feel her more clearly than you could feel the urge to give up.
"I think this place is making me start to forget who I am."
It's a scary admission that has her arms tightening around you. Although no one ever says it out loud, every single one of the trainees know that the program is trying to break them down- Turning them into something less of a human and something more akin to a human-like animatronic for the spotlight.
Daniela holds onto you like she's trying to keep your soul from disconnecting from your body, and she thinks deeply about what she can say to keep you believing in yourself the same way she believes in you.
"You're the person who makes sure no one feels worthless, the one who reminds us all to immediately change out of our sweaty clothes after practice, the one who reminds us that it's okay to still be ourselves."
The words come out shaky, twinged with a desperation that's begging you to hold on to yourself like she's holding onto your sunshine because Daniela doesn't know if she can do this without you by her side.
"You're the laughter, you're the joy, you're our sunshine."
She lets you cry into her hair even when the weight of your tears feels heavy enough to send her composure crashing down. She lets you fall apart because sometimes some broken things need to go to make room for upgrades, and even though she's here now as you fall apart: She vows to be there for you too when you're building yourself up again.
When your tears cease running and your shoulders stop heaving, Daniela pulls away just enough to keep your eyes on hers to ensure that her next words will stick to the core of your soul.
"You make this battlefield feel like a home, and you remind me that I'm not alone- Hope follows where you go: You're my person, you're Y/N."
For a brief moment, she wonders if she's being direct enough. Wonders if saying her truth now would bolster your confidence- But something holds her back.
It's the grey concrete surrounding the two of you, it's the cold metal railing of the stairwell digging into your sides, it's the dim flickering light of the green Exit sign above your heads.
It's the realization that you deserve better than an impulsive confession in a place that is actively trying to erase what makes you who you are in order to turn you into the perfect celebrities.
So she holds her tongue and wrestles with her heart to keep it from leaping from her chest and into your hands. She installs breaks in herself and makes a promise that when she does finally tell you: It's going to be at the perfect moment where peace and quiet is what reigns the atmosphere.
Later that night, when Daniela is on her knees whispering to the air hoping that her words will carry to the God she has believed in all her life; She gives her thanks. But then asks for something from him for the very first time in her life:
1. Please watch over her. Give her the strength of heart to reach our dreams.
Christmas break of the first year in Dream Academy rolls around before she could ponder how you've both survived it that long. You're both back with your families and although her home is loud and filled with love, she can't shake the weight of your absence from her side.
On the first day of the week: She speaks in Spanish and wonders if you would be able to pick up on some of the words if you were there with her, she laughs at jokes and antics and smiles as she imagines explaining the gist to you, she eats foods that taste of home and takes note of the dishes she's sure you'd love just as much as she does.
When night falls and her parents sit with her in the living room to ask her what she wants for a Christmas gift, Daniela almost speaks your name without hesitation.
She bites her tongue and shrugs her shoulders instead.
"Being back here is all I could ever ask for."
It puts a smile on her Mama and Papa's faces, but the latter shakes his head in amusement and calls her a flatterer while the former only smiles at her with a knowing look in the eyes she has inherited.
Daniela goes to bed eyeing her phone on the bedside table, wondering if she has any right to pull up your number and hit the call button.
On the second day of the week: She spends the day out with her parents, catching up and telling stories that never had the time to be squeezed into the calls. She is happy, throughout the day she lingers in her Papa's hugs and holds her Mama's hand tighter than she used to as a child.
But when their laughter fades out, and the silence between each story permeates the air: Daniela could imagines how you'd smile and take over the conversation as she catches her breath. She thinks she hides it well, but her parents notice anyway.
When they come back home that afternoon, her father pulls out of the driveway after dropping his girls off.
"Where's he off to?"
"He just has some other errands to run, Mija."
Daniela goes to bed dreaming of a beating heart that walks, and sunshine that laughs. Remaining oblivious to the victorious grins and high fives her parents share outside of her room after they successfully sneak in a gift-wrapped box onto her bedside table.
On the third day of the week: She wakes up and does a double take at the early present beside her bed. Picking it up with gentle hands, she brings it up to her hear before carefully shaking it- While she's peeling off the wrapping, suddenly she's six again and the excitement in her heart is enough to make it feel like it's going to burst.
The sight that greets her is a pale white polaroid camera, complete with three boxes of films and a note with her mother's handwriting on it.
'Los recuerdos se desvanecen pero las imágenes no.'
At Seven o'clock AM, you're woken up by a ringtone that makes you want to lob your phone out of your bedroom window. But then your mind registers the fact that it's Daniela's ringtone, so you answer the videocall with bleary eyed confusion and a voice that would put a chainsmoker to shame.
"Dani? What happened? Is everything okay?"
Click.
She's wearing a grin that hurts her cheeks when Daniela snaps her first ever photo: Her phone propped up against the night lamp, it's screen showing the complete package of your newly roused form with your mussed bed hair, squinting eyes, and a mouth slightly parted in confusion over the sound that her microphone picked up.
You don't register what just happened until you see Daniela gently fanning a small white square in the air with an excited grin on her face- Then your eyes widen in alarm when you realize that the click sound was from a camera.
"Dani, what the fuck?!"
Heat starts creeping up your cheeks when you spare yourself a look over at the mirror of your vanity table to find that you look like someone who just got up from rolling in the grass. Mortification wraps around your heart as an embarrassed groan tears out of your lips over the successful surprise attack.
"Literally anything else would've made for a better picture, girl.."
The Latina stares at you through her phone, the excited grin tapering off into a soft smile. She shrugs her shoulders and brushes off your complaint with a statement of her own.
"What the hell are you talking about? It's a picture of you! it's already perfect."
Daniela hits the brakes too late, realizing that those words could very well give her away while she's hundreds of miles away from you on a morning that has begun chaotically for you. Certain that she just shot herself in the foot, she holds onto the polaroid in her hand like a lifeline.
But you're drowning in a sea of embarrassment and sleepiness, and with your hands covering your face, you don't see the panicked expression on your best friend's face. You miss the way her eyes are as wide as they can get, and you miss the way that her words were tinged with something that runs deeper than simple admiration.
So you groan at her words and mistake them for light hearted teasing. You wave one hand at the camera in a shooing motion before picking it up with the other and glaring at the camera with mock annoyance.
"Whatever, you menace. I'm going back to bed, it's too early to be awake."
The call ends from your side and Daniela flops onto the bed with a relieved sigh on her lips as she holds the polaroid over her heart- Dismissal has never felt so relieving.
When she attends evening mass that day, she kneels at the altar and whispers her thanks with fervor.
1. Thank you for the family whose love is unconditional.
2. Thank you for the privilege to be chasing my dreams.
3. Thank you for bringing Y/N back into my life.
4. Thank you for making her an idiot in the mornings.
Then Daniela heads straight to the confession booth after she stands up from the floor to apologize for her language, though she's pretty sure that God would be laughing at her choice of words instead of fuming.
Before Daniela heads to bed that night, she stares at the first polaroid she has ever taken in her life. It screams beginner, but she thinks it's her favorite photo anyways. She remembers a Pinterest photo she saw once where a collection of polaroids have writings on each one.
It leads to her rummaging through her drawers for a sharpie, and for a second: She's stumped on what she's going to write down.
Then she comes up with an idea, and she decides that her mother's words on the sticky note will do well as the starting point of her plan.
'Memories fade but pictures don't.'
Daniela watches the ink dry, and when she's finally sure it won't smudge: She tucks the treasured polaroid into the back of her phone case.
Training is still rigorous, the missions even more so. But somehow in the chaos and exhaustion that comes with being a contestant in Dream Academy, Daniela finds pockets of peace that sounds like the click of a polaroid camera. Her collection of your pictures grows and each one of the little squares get their own unique quotes without fail.
One where you're resting on the floor beside Megan with your eyes closed: Rest can be found in silent stillness, I'd sit with you if only I was brave enough to.
One where you're laughing with Sophia over a story she was recounting: Bonfires can't be made over wooden floors, but it's okay- Your joy carries all the warmth I need.
One where you're pouring over textbooks with Yoonchae, helping the Korean girl brush up on her English: God already gave you the looks and the brain, could you be so kind as to spare your heart for me?
One where you're spinning around the practice room with Manon on your back, laughing like there were no troubles in the world: I am nothing more than simply human, but if you had asked me to stop the world for you then I would.
She declares each one as her favorite, until the next shot is taken and she crowns that one as the newest favorite. The polaroids grow in number and her feelings deepen in depth, through it all Daniela bites her tongue and reaches for the camera whenever the urge to confess grows unbearable-
Hiding behind the lens so that your eyes wouldn't see the feelings she knows her eyes can't hide. The desire to tell you burns her skin, and though Daniela has never felt the fires of hell, if she had to guess she'd say that it feels just like this:
Pain and temptation combined into a single sensation that tests her mettle.
So the holds onto her prayers and her gratitude, whispers the words each night with dedication like her thankfulness was an anchor that would keep her from drifting- She still ends up feeling the sweet burn of temptation every day.
It worsens when you debut together, when you're both on that stage holding tightly onto each other's hands. Your name is called right after hers and suddenly you're both four years old again and it feels like the biggest win of your lives.
The competition is finally over, and Katseye cries together as one. But through the day, Daniela never lets go of your hand. It becomes the focus of her newest polaroid, and you shake your head at her with a small incredulous laugh.
"I swear, if this doesn't work out? You could make it as a photographer."
The picture comes out clear, showing the bond and the solid reliance you have built together. To the Latina, it looks like the milestone of a lifetime.
She hands you the opened sharpie with an easy smile, and for the first time since she started this journey of secret keeping: The words inked onto the picture is not in Daniela's handwriting.
"Only if you promise to be my muse forever."
You reply with a laugh that's soft and grateful, you bump your shoulder against hers, but you hold onto her hand just as tightly as she does. It makes steadying the picture difficult, and writing on its sleek surface even more so.
But you prevail with a promise sealed in ink:
'Together through The Challenge; Together to the Future.'
Later that night, Daniela switches out the weathered polaroid hidden in the back of her phone case. The image of your intertwined fingers being hidden behind the phone that never leaves her person feels like the sanctification of a relic.
The first polaroid finds a new home in her wallet, never willing to be parted from it even though its surface is no longer as sleek as it once was. It weighs as heavily as some priceless treasure hiding buried in an unexplored jungle, and to Daniela: It is a priceless treasure she wants no hands but her own to touch.
When she prays that night, her list grows once more with the addition of a new thing to be grateful for.
1. Thank you for my family whose love is unconditional.
2. Thank you for the privilege to be chasing my dreams.
3. Thank you for bringing Y/N back into my life.
4. Thank you for making her an idiot in the mornings.
5. Thank you for bringing us together.
Daniela goes to bed that night feeling like a newly baptised person, born again and washed clean of her old burdens. It's fitting; Because tomorrow is the start of her new life as a member of Katseye.
Your debut performance marks a change that neither of you ever saw coming, and it begins with your brave spirit and thoughtfulness shining through the nerves that are sky high.
No one ever told any of you that returning backstage after a performance would feel like ecstasy, that all your thoughts would be running a thousand miles a second and that your limbs would thrum with energy that feels like being given a second life.
You're the last to step into the room, and you find your girls burning off the adrenaline in their own ways:
Megan, Yoonchae, and Lara bounce around in circular pattern while their hands connect to form a triangle. It looks like a summoning ritual and it draws a fond laugh out of you.
Sophia and Manon are sprawled on the couch with their limbs tangled together as they speak with their hands to each other and over each other about their feelings and thoughts about the performance. It looks and sounds like chaos that only they know how to navigate.
Daniela is the last one your eyes find, the girl pacing back and forth on her own as she shakes her hand like she's waving droplets of water off of her skin.
The urge sneaks up on you like the snake of Eden, and just like Eve: You take the bite with no need of further convincing.
You dash over to her bag, rummage around for the polaroid and immediately run back over to where Daniela is still pacing before snapping a photo of her in all her post-performance glory.
Click.
It's a sound so miniscule in the space that's filled with the sound of five other women bouncing around the room like dogs given energy drinks- But to Daniela, it resonates like a thunderclap in an open field.
For a moment she stands still. Her eyes wide in surprise, her hands shaking with nerves, her costume feeling a bit uncomfortable, and her hair sticking to her skin with sweat.
Then laughter bubbles out on her lips and she lunges for you in embarrassment that's starting to show on her cheeks. You laugh with her, carefree and admiring and sounding like home as you hold the newly printed photo out of her reach.
"Y/N, throw that out! I look like a drowned cat!"
Her hands are resting on your shoulders, she could push you and take the polaroid for herself- Wrench it from your grasp like taking back something stolen from her, then throw it out herself like she asked you to.
But you're smiling at her with your eyes that looks like a reflection of everything she's ever felt for you, and so Daniela stays still.
Your free hand is on her hip, your arm wrapped around her waist and feeling like it belongs on her body like puzzle pieces meant to click together- You could push her away and run off with the picture like a thief that has succeeded in a snatching.
But Daniela's looking at you with love in her eyes and a smile that tells you she's right where she wants to be, so you stay and keep her with you.
"You're the definition of beautiful."
You say it with softness and honesty, just loud enough for both you and Daniela's ears and no one else's. She accepts it with silence and a wildly beating heart that you feel against your own ribs.
It feels like the merging of two worlds.
That photo remains the only one of herself in Daniela's collection, and though it will forever be the only polaroid free of marker ink:
It's a fact that matters less than nothing when your words have etched itself permanently onto her mind and heart. That night, you both go to sleep in your own beds wondering what it would feel like if you were side by side beneath the blanket.
Time passes like it always does: Quickly and unnoticed until its marks capture your attention.
You still look after everyone the same way back in Dream Academy, bringing light and hope into every room you walk in. Though you're a little older now and you no longer tease Yoonchae about being the baby as much anymore.
Daniela still takes photos of you and signs each polaroid squares with a black sharpie, each quote still unique and never repeating. Her collection has grown to two shoeboxes full now.
You've both grown into being each other's now. Stable and gentle and calm, and everybody knows that you're both off limits even if neither of you have ever asked the other to label it or make it official.
The only thing that never changes is how one of you will ask if the other is nervous, and it still always leads to laced fingers and palms pressed against each other.
The labor of the journey comes to fruition on the afterparty celebration of Katseye's fourth Grammy win. Drinks are being passed around and although you take small sips in a relaxed pace, you've always been quite the lightweight.
You excuse yourself for a breather after reassuring your groupmates that you're not overwhelmed, only that you'd hate to black out before the three hour mark even passes.
Lara waves at you with a smile.
Megan grins with a 'Come back sober!'.
Sophia hands you a painkiller and a bottle of water. 'Just in case.' She said.
Manon pats your purse with a firm nod. Her way of saying 'I got you.'.
Yoonchae hands you your jacket. Earning her a pat on the head when she says 'So you don't get cold!'.
Daniela speaks before you could get up from your seat.
"Care for some company?"
You shake your head gently, raising a hand as if to wordlessly tell her to stay seated.
"Nah, you guys keep having fun."
She smiles at you. A soft and gentle thing that doesn't belong amidst the techno music and the flickering strobe lights. Then she's standing up and lacing your fingers with hers.
Your hands fit like it belongs together-
"Things are only fun when I've got you."
-You think to yourself that maybe they do.
Daniela leads you to the back door, walking with slow but sure steps as if she owned both the place and time itself. Unbothered about the eyes that follow your forms until the heavy doors cut off their field of vision.
You stand beside each other with a comfortable silence, you keep your hands on the railing because even if your vision isn't swimming- You've learned the important lesson of not trusting your heels when they're on the pavement.
Daniela stares straight at you, meeting your gaze and unafraid now for everything she feels to be laid bare before your eyes for observation.
"Are you okay?"
You hum in affirmation, nodding your head and letting out a sigh of relief over the cool breeze of the night. The question comes out of your mouth with a content tone, the one that Daniela has come to learn means you see nothing but good things in the future even if you don't exactly know what it is you're seeing.
"What's next for us?"
She shrugs her shoulders with a competitive grin and a proud look in her eyes. It suits her, and briefly you allow yourself to think that she grows more and more beautiful with each passing day.
"We lay low, kick back and relax. Then we strike with a comeback at the perfect time."
The moon hangs high in the sky, it's shining beams illuminating the dress of the woman beside you and making her look like she was gentle starlight given a form of flesh and blood.
It's a peaceful night, slow and quiet with the type of peace that inspires you to be brave. Your next words come out without hesitation.
"The perfect moment is never gonna come around, you know that right?"
The silence shifts alongside Daniela's smile, it goes from relaxed to strained. That look in your eyes tells her that you're not talking about the group. An extra beat of quiet passes and Daniela suddenly remembers your words:
"What's next for us?"
It dawns on her that you never asked about the group, so she thinks about what she could possibly say. What could she say about the past seven years that she's spent waiting, spent hiding behind the now-outdated polaroid camera?
There's nothing she can say about the time that has passed which would return it to you. It's gone and it's spent and it's forever a memory now;
Deep down she had known that there was never going to be a perfect moment to spring her perfect plan that she never got around to creating. From that day in the stairwell when she held you in her arms as you cried- Daniela had known that she resigned herself to waiting for something that would never come.
Her next words are whispered. Nerves showing in the wavering of her diction, she cringes at the weakness of her tone and briefly prays in her head that you didn't mistake it for hesitation and uncertainty; Because she has always been certain about wanting you.
"I'm nervous about this. About us- Love's not a dance that has moves I can rehearse. I can't start from the top if I mess up a step. It scares me because I want to be perfect for you."
Your hand comes up to her chin, dragging her head back to face you and holding on unless she once again thinks to look away from you. Because it has only been moments, but you've missed her eyes already.
"Dani, we're both going to fuck up and stumble. We're both going to mess up and we'll have no choice but to get up and move forward anyways because we can't rewind time-"
You're nervous too, Daniela sees it in the furrow of your brows and the tension in your shoulders. She sees her own wants and desperation reflected in the pleading tone of your voice.
You hold her hand not to calm her nerves, but to keep yourself grounded too. She feels it in the shallowness of your breathing.
"-But wouldn't it feel so much better to have someone by your side when you get up instead of having to do it alone?"
The look in your eyes makes it dawn on her that you're burning up inside as much as she is. It makes her realize just how borderline cruel it was to spend seven years dragging this out and spend five of those said years treating you like you're hers without ever finding the guts to claim you as such.
Daniela presses her forehead against yours, closing her eyes as she basks in the feeling of your lips being a hair's width away from hers- It's a wordless apology, it's begging for forgiveness that she doesn't know has already been granted years before.
Tonight, her resolve against the temptation she's been holding off for seven years crumbles almost to dust.
Tonight, Daniela finds out that she is stronger than she thought she was.
You lean in to claim a kiss you've been yearning for since the day you first performed on stage as a member of Katseye, and Daniela pushes you back using your intertwined hands.
When your eyes fly open in surprise, you're met with a sheepish gaze instead of a cold one like you expected. She's smiling at you with an apology that carries a tinge of embarrassment.
"I uh.. Want something to remember this by and.... I didn't bring my camera.."
A more sensible woman would roll her eyes, or give Daniela a slap on her shoulder, or acquiesce to going back inside for that camera she carries everywhere.
A sensible woman doesn't keep the memory of a confident four year old disregarding nervousness at the forefront of her mind for almost twenty years, she doesn't wait two years to confess her feelings in a non-confession, and she certainly does not spend five years playing the role of a girlfriend without the label.
So you reach into your jacket with a scoff, pull out your phone, open the camera and position it high in the air to capture the moment when you capture Daniela's lips in your own.
You taste like salvation, and the first thing that Daniela thinks of is that if she dies tonight: She'll pry open the gates of heaven with her bare hands to come back to you. Just to feel like this for one more second.
She tastes like success, and the first thing that you think of is that this is the best thing you've ever felt in your entire life: There is no other victory that can come close to the satisfaction brought by the feeling of Daniela's lips on yours.
Neither of you know how long you've spent wrapped around each other in that moment, but soon enough the need for oxygen becomes a hindrance to living and so you both pull away.
Nothing really changes between the two of you, proven by the banter that ensues as soon as you and the Latina catch your breaths.
"I'm keeping this photo for myself."
"Can I atleast get a copy of it?"
"We've got the rest of our lives to take more like it."
Yet somehow everything changes between you just the same, proven by the way you're pulling Daniela in for another starving kiss as soon as you say your piece.
It's a night for firsts: The first kiss, the first real confession, the first love that feels real, the first time that Daniela prays standing up, without going through the sign of the cross, and doing so without an altar or a church or a cathedral-
It's a night of endings too: The end of dancing around each other, the end of waiting, the end of being apart- The end of the growth of her list of things to thank in her prayers.
1. Thank you for my family whose love is unconditional.
2. Thank you for the privilege to be chasing my dreams.
3. Thank you for bringing Y/N back into my life.
4. Thank you for making her an idiot in the mornings.
Summary: Within her twenty years of love, life, and supportive parents- Daniela has never once questioned her own sexuality. Not until you show up in her life and suddenly she needs you like how a sprouting seed needs the sunlight to grow into itself.
"کی ہے عشق محبت، جس دل میں اسکو پسند کرتا ہے مولا. "
"Whoever has love in their heart, that person is beloved to the Lord."
There's a memory from fifteen years ago that has not ever dulled at even the edges for Daniela. On an afternoon when she came home from school and her mother noticed that her mood was sad instead of it's usual bubbly one, she remembers being sat down in the kitchen and being asked what happened.
"Alex said that she loves Kelsey like her Mom loves her Dad and then Mrs. Williams put her in time out- I don't understand. ¿Hizo algo malo, mama?"
She cries heavy tears for a classmate she's not even friends with, and her mama scoops her up in her arms while whispering affirming words into her hair.
"Mrs. Williams told Alex that she should stop if she doesn't want to go to hell. I don't want her to go to hell, mama."
When her mother pulls away to look into her eyes, the conviction that she sees calms her sobs down, but it's the words that she says next are the ones to calm her golden heart.
"Love is a gift from God. Not a curse from the Devil."
It took her five years to realize that the furrow of her mother's brows weren't of shared sadness with her, but of anger. Stepping into puberty, she still carries her mother's words close to her heart.
Daniela was in fourth grade when she holds nothing back in punching a boy in the mouth for throwing a slur at another boy she didn't even know the name of.
"El amor nunca podría ser un pecado, mi mija. Remember this no matter what."
The next week, she starts getting called the same slur she heard that boy be called. Bolstered by the fact that she did what she did with the right intentions, Daniela holds her head up high and unflinchingly until she graduates from grade school.
It helps that her mother took her to get ice cream after they got out of the disciplinary office that day, her small bruised hand cradled gently by the proud and loving one of her own personal hero.
When she enters the doors of her new campus high school and finds with time that the environment is a safe space for everyone who's just all sorts of uniquely different- She thanks her mom for enrolling her there.
Daniela watches with happiness over the fact that everyone grow strongly and steadily alongside her, like seeds that are meticulously watered and encouraged by the loving hands of a dedicated gardener.
Dream academy was where she meets someone who helps reinforce the steel of her spine when the pressure starts to bend her.
You offer her all of her favorite fruits from your portioned lunch on her bad days, stealing a bite or two in return on the days when her ego feels untouchable. While everyone else watches her dance like they're looking for weak points in her armor, you watch her like you're seeing art for the first time every time.
In return, Daniela sits beside you when everyone else leaves you alone in the middle of the battle scarred field that is the practice room. She asks questions that urge you to spit out more facts when you start talking about things you're passionate about.
Both of your roots start taking hold in your spots beside one another, not quite deep enough to connect. But just deep enough to reassure that neither of you are alone in the heavy process of trying to survive and exist.
Despite your best shared efforts and light hearted smiles though, the ruthless training regiment still succeeds in breaking her. For the cycle of the seasons is not complete if there are no storms, blizzards, droughts or freezing winters for all living things to contend with.
Her presence in Dream Academy holds the second memory in Daniela's life that won't ever fade or dull with the passage of time. But unlike the first memory serves as a source of moral strength-
This second one is a source of great shame.
You visit her in her room after she had sprained her ankle in a turn she was sure she should have already perfected. You find her seated with her back against the wall, and she finds you with your hands holding the plate of food that was meant for her. With the mound of fruits looking twice their normal size telling her that you've given her yours once again.
It happens suddenly, like a sickness that remains undetected until a number of leaves have browned and yellowed- Her anger attacks the beautiful, budding seedling that is growing between the both of you.
Daniela could no longer remember everything she had said. Only that when all was said and done, you looked so far away from the bright presence she knew you to be. You looked blighted- Wilted by the poison of her searing words that she had no right to direct at you.
For a split second, she's afraid that she will have to grow alone. That the twisted thing that she has thrown at you would succeed in killing the small growth you had both accomplished in nurturing before this moment.
But then you move forward to sit on the side of her bed anyways, and the clinking of the spoon against the plate confuses her until you start bringing it up to her lips.
Daniela hungers not for the warmth of the food, but for the warmth of your presence that she has blocked out like a moon in an eclipse. She knows though that to take from you after having dealt a debilitating cut would be nothing but selfish.
So with a small voice and an incapability to look straight into your eyes, she gives you the chance to move your roots away from hers. Daniela feels her own withering creeping up on her as she imagines having to face the cold judgement of the world outside these doors without your warmth to ensure that she survives it.
"I don't deserve this right now."
The loose shrug of your shoulders and the warmth of your palm on her knee makes her feel like she's suffocating under the Earth. The dirt of her guilt weighing heavily against her chest as it saps her lungs of the air she needs.
You do the opposite of what she gave you the chance to. Like a plant that grows tall and functions as a trellis for the upward reaching vine.
"I'll take care of you anyway."
There, in the aftermath of the heat that could have killed the green of the growth between you: Daniela promises to hold onto you as gently as she can manage while you entangle your roots with hers.
Healing is never an easy journey though, and on a random night that you spend together, Daniela's grasp on your steady form almost slips due to the heavy moisture of her tears.
"I can't forget the look on your face when I lashed out at you for nothing."
But she is not the only one who is holding on, and when the waterworks threaten to wash her away: You hold onto her with a gentle strength that reassures her that she's meant to be there with you.
"Then don't forget it. But remember that we're growing past it together."
It wasn't easy. On some days it's you who is apprehensive of approaching her due to the thorns that have started to sprout, on some days her hold falters and Daniela spirals into thinking that she's dragging you down instead of keeping you upright.
The two of you make it before you know it, and when you're holding hands and crying tears of joy that help you to shed the shells of yourselves that you've finally outgrown. You both realize that you've moved past the scarring burden of that sickening anger together.
On the night that you're assigned your rooms in the house, it was no surprise that you and Daniela ended up being paired. Unable to sleep, the two of you talk about how far you've come since that time that you offered her your portion of fruits when you noticed that she wasn't quite satisfied after finishing hers.
Ever the one to come up with the questions, Daniela asks the final one for the night when your eyelids grow too heavy to keep open and all manner of filters have shut down due to exhaustion.
"Do you think we'll be alright? It's a big world out here."
Ever the one to reach for the stars, you cocoon yourself even more into your blankets as you allow the pull of sleep to gently drag you into the serene abyss of dreamless slumber.
"We've got each other. Of course we will be."
While you finally sleep soundly, the sandman continues to ellude the girl on the bed across yours.
When you shift onto your back, one of your arms slip free of your self-made blanket cocoon. Daniela watches it fall limply over the side of the bed before hanging outstretched midair.
She knows you'll wake up with a kink in that elbow and a numb sensation from the shoulder down. The selfless part of Daniela tells her to get up and tuck your arm back in against your body.
Something else she can't name wins over instead and she reaches out her own arm, stretching her fingers out in the curious hope that her skin would graze against yours even if it's just for a moment.
A disappointment she can't decipher the origin of twists in her gut, it follows her into the depths of her own dreamless sleep-
The distance between you is too large for even her best effort to succeed.
Half a year into being popstars, Daniela finds that nothing has changed about you in your side of this symbiosis you have together.
You still give her the food on your plate which you know she likes. You still observe her dances like she's art that's being unveiled for the first time even if you dance together now. You still always find a way to take care of her when injuries or sickness befalls her.
You carry the burden of fame like it weighs lighter than a feather. On the days when it feels like a six wheeler truck to her, you carry her burden for her too.
Daniela finds that everything about her has changed in her side of this symbiosis.
She still sits right beside you in the practice rooms but now it's because something wrong starts to swim in her gut when the others get touchy with you. She still asks questions that fuel your passion for topics you're heavily invested in, but now she does it because the sound of your voice wraps around her shoulders- Bringing her a comfort like the joy of wearing her favorite hoodie does.
Daniela was content to believe that this love which has taken root in her heart and soul was nothing more than unbreakable friendship.
That assumption starts cracking on a random night as the seven of you are having dinner together. Her water ran out and before she could even take notice, you're on your feet and refilling the glass for her.
She's distracted from her conversation with Megan when your hand enters her peripheral- Holding her glass out for her to take.
It's always been how you were: Offering what she needs instead of immediately handing it to her because although it has never been said- You've come to learn that Daniela abhors feeling dependent on anyone.
"You were running empty."
She returns your gentle smile with a heartfelt one of her own, but not before muttering a 'thank you'. Because although it has never been said- Daniela has come to learn that your biggest fear is becoming invisible.
Unexpected sparks dance across her fingertips when her hand accidentally grazes yours as she reaches out to accept the offered water.
"Careful, flinch away from me like that on camera and everyone's going to think I'm some sort of bitch."
You look as unbothered as you always do, taking every unexpected occurrence in stride like you were born to expertly surf across the waves of life's unforseen occurences.
The flirtatious words fly off of her tongue before she even has the chance to think about how there's no cameras to play roles for, and that there's five other people in this room with the two of you.
"Or they might think that there's electric chemistry between us."
A wondrous laugh slips free from your lips and all Daniela feels as you plop back down on your seat is that she wants this closeness to last forever. Your thigh pressed comfortably against hers, and your shoulder being only a hair's width away after you jokingly bump it against hers.
"I don't know much about chemistry, but I'm pretty sure we're better suited for botany: We grow together, remember?"
It takes Daniela by surprise, the way her heart feels softer and larger than it is by the reveal that you still remember the words you only ever told her once- Twice now.
Neither of you notice the way that Lara and Megan share a look, or the way Sophia is trying not to ask for details, or the way that Yoonchae looks like she's one second away from screeching over what was going on.
Living in your own little bubble, you and Daniela continue eating your dinners with a silence that feels like content existence.
When the food is finally cleared and the plates are neatly stacked up in the kitchen sink, Daniela makes a move to turn on the sink when there's suddenly a hand wrapping around her wrist.
"I've got it, I know how sleepy you get after eating. You go on ahead."
She wants to contest, to say that both of you were assigned to cleanup duty for tonight- Unaware of why she herself is fighting with the urge to clock out in order to spend more time in your space. The Latina opens her mouth to refuse, but you beat her to the punch with a question that knocks all the fight out of her.
"I'll take care of you, remember?"
If it was anyone else who told her those same words, she would've ignored them and gotten straight to work on completing her own tasks.
But because those words came from you, accompanied by that smile that always somehow managed to make her softer than she already is: Daniela nods and walks out of the kitchen.
The Dancer's eyes fall closed as soon as she curls up underneath her blankets, yet still:
Sleep doesn't find her until you're in your bed and breathing in that slow, slumbering speed that has somehow become a lullaby that Daniela can't sleep without.
Her surety about her sexuality starts coming apart on a Pride Photoshoot.
Sophia with her ally flag is multitasking between ensuring that the fabric doesn't fall from her shoulders and fussing over Megan and Lara as the two openly out girls try to find the most obnoxious way they could pose with their respective flags- They start calming down when Lara almost eats the floor when she accidentally slips on the Queer flag while wildly waving it around.
Manon is off by the table of props, quiet in the way that people are when they feel like the present is more than enough as she slowly runs her palm over the neatly folded lesbian flag. There's a smile on her face that is reminiscent of peace and nostalgia.
Daniela is glad that her bandmate gets this moment to herself. Her eyes drift away from the Swiss member as it finds its gaze trained on your form that's walking towards the same table that Manon is standing by.
She can't make out the words from where she is, but she sees the way that you say something to Manon and she sees how it reshapes the taller girl's smile into something that shows happiness over memories to happiness in the present.
When you and Manon wrap your own flags around your shoulders, Daniela can't help but feel some sort of emptiness over the way that everyone feels at home over the flags slung over their bodies.
Yoonchae with her Ally flag speaks up softly from beside her when her eyes find themselves drifting back to the table chock full of flags.
"It's okay to wonder. This isn't a race."
She snaps out of that floating feeling, started by the words she can't make any sense of. Daniela knows that Yoonchae knows that she wants to ask what the Maknae is talking about.
Meeting the youngest member's eyes, Daniela finds understanding in them that feels more confusing than reassuring. It feels like Yoonchae knows something she doesn't, and Daniela can't wait to catch on.
"Just do what feels right."
She wanders off to the table of flags, her eyes going straight to the Ally flags neatly stacked on one corner. She tries to reach out for it, tries to bring her hand to grasp the cloth- But somehow something feels missing and she can't leave that prop table with no flag of her own.
So Daniela grabs it anyway, ignoring the sinking feeling that the flag doesn't feel right around her shoulders.
She arrives at your side with tension in her spine and uncertainty in her eyes. You see all of it, because you're you and Daniela has always been an open book to you. With a gentle smile, you lift an arm like an invitation for Daniela to scootch in.
The Latina takes the offer with little hesitation, and when the photoshoot begins and she stays there underneath your arm, and your flag which is large enough to drape over both of you ends up covering her flag entirely- The pictures end up as perfect in everyone's eyes.
And with her gaze locked on the way that she's stuck to your side like glue, Daniela feels like she belongs.
Lara sees her looking at the pictures for longer than the rest, and when she stands by Daniela's side she grabs the girl's attention as gently as she can.
"You alright?"
The response isn't an answer, it wasn't even a sentence trying to masquerade as a reassurance. It holds on like roots that stand firm amidst a storm.
"How did you figure out that you weren't straight?"
It was whispered, not like a secret. Because even fifteen years after kindergarten, Daniela remembers her mother telling her that there is nothing to be ashamed of about love. It was whispered like she was afraid to be heard and considered slow for not knowing the answer.
The words leave her lips not with fear, but it makes her feel fragile all the same. Lara's steady hand on her shoulder reminds her that she can breathe, and the bundle of thorns in her throat dissipates into nothing when the younger girl smiles at her like it's okay to wonder.
"We'll talk about it at home where it's safe."
It suddenly dawns on her that they're still in the studio, in public where any wandering ears could hear them and start a wildfire of a rumor before she could figure this out for herself.
Daniela throws her arms around her groupmate. The hug is returned without hesitation, and it feels like finding a shade to rest in after a full day of walking underneath the desert sun.
That night, Daniela spends hours lying down on Megan's bed with the two roommates on either side of her. She asks questions old and new, questions that have lingered and come randomly.
Each one is answered to the best of their abilities, and Daniela finds out that neither of her two bandmates have ever felt as she is feeling.
Megan never wondered, she saw an internet guide to the different kinds of sexual orientation and when bisexuality felt like a tailored suit that was made for her- She decided that it is what it is. The Chinese girl has since then walked through life with her head held high knowing that her heart does not care for classifications.
Lara had always been sure, she developed a crush on her English teacher back in first grade because the woman spoke poetry given life and simultaneously had a crush on a boy from her science class because his kindness was given freely, never conditional and always at the ready. The Indian girl has always been proud of the fact that her heart is big enough for anyone who deserves to have a space in it.
"I don't know who I am."
She whispers to them after they tell her of their own journey. Like a dam that has broken, the secret she has withheld overflows from her lips with a desperation to know what she is because Daniela hates the feeling of being lost.
There in between the presence of her friends, Daniela speaks of how you have always been her best friend- That she's afraid you're no longer just that anymore because what if she loses you over this which she couldn't stop because she had never forseen feeling as she feels now.
Daniela speaks of how it's eating her alive to pretend like she's okay with pretending. She confesses that she feels selfish for wanting you to keep giving because she will always cherish every piece of you that she is granted- Even if it's nothing more than crumbs.
"You're Daniela."
Lara tells her after she runs out of words. Megan nods fervently like it's some sort of colossal biblical truth, and Lara continues speaking her piece when Daniela looks at her with confusion.
"You have a thoughtful mind, a strong drive to be the best version of yourself, and a heart that has already found a home in someone's soul."
Megan adds her own words of affirmation to the mix.
"You've already got the keys to the front door. You just need to let yourself in."
It feels less like affirmations and more like Megan dumped a bucket of cold water on her, but she's not holding any hard feelings. Her next words are spoken with the tone of defeat.
"Y/N doesn't feel the same way."
The two women on either of her side starts cackling like she's left out of the loop of some memorable inside joke. Soft friendship be damned, now she's ready to punch these two in the throat-
But Daniela has always carried love better than she carries anger, and when their hands come to rest on both her shoulders; She lets their touch ground her enough to really hear their next words.
"It's not our place to tell you everything. But just know that Y/N feels deeper for you than you're assuming she does-"
When she returns to your shared room, she feels lighter than she has ever felt since this all started.
" -You're not just Daniela. You're her Daniela."
Upon opening the door, she finds herself surprised to see you still awake when the clock on your bedside reads 2:47AM. You greet her with a tired smile and bags under your eyes, but Daniela thinks that you still look as beautiful as you do with a face full of professionally applied makeup.
"You're still up? Waiting for me or something?"
"Of course I did."
"What if I didn't come back tonight?"
"I would've waited anyway."
It still shocks Daniela how easily you seem to say these things, and a part of her screams to be allowed to speak just as freely as you do. Tonight, in the hours before the sun rises, reassured by Megan and Lara's words- Daniela sets loose the urge to converse with unrestrained honesty.
She marches forward to sit down by the side of your bed. Some part of her is still afraid of ruining what has sprouted and grown between the two of you; Still afraid to use the keys she has had in her hands from the very beginning.
Silence rings in her ears like blaring alarms, but the patience in your eyes that remains unwavering brings her the calm that she needs to speak freely.
"... Would it be weird? If I told you I that I need you more than I've ever needed anything else?"
It's as honest as she can manage for the moment. Fear still lingers, and she still can't bring herself to try the keys in her hand so she settles for softly knocking instead.
"Would it be weird if I told you that I want to be needed by you?"
You swing the door wide open for her, like you've stood waiting right by the other side for her to announce her presence all this time.
Daniela finds no nervousness in your eyes, no tension in your shoulders, and no faltering in the gentle curve of your smile. She inches her hand closer to yours, tangling your pinky fingers together like she's still giving you the chance to walk away from her like she did all those years ago-
When she was the one with her back against the wall and you were the one who was sat on the side of the bed.
"I still don't know what I am."
You choose the opposite just like all those years ago. You fully interlock your fingers with hers before pulling her down into a hug that holds none of your own feelings back.
A/N: I hope you guys liked this one, I found it kind of difficult to write about Daniela's self-discovery because I'm more of like Megan and Lara from this fic.
As always, feel free to lmk what you thought either by the comments or by the ask box! 🫶
Summary: In which Lara never expected to fall for her worst nightmare given form, but she does anyway. So she tries her best to save what's left of her sanity with the help of her jackets. TLDR; It ends with victorious relief and a new relationship.
"You can have anyone else you wanted to, I'm begging you."
Requested? ✅
Genre: Fluff, Humor, 7th Member!Reader
Warnings: None
Extra Tags: cute secrets, cute confessions, Loser!Reader, Lara's sanity being depleted by your clothes, Fashion Horrors
Falling for you was catastrophic. Like a slow motion scene where she crosses the street, hears a loud honking, turns to look only to find the horrific sight of a speeding car barrelling towards her.
"You want anything from the corner store?"
Lara looks up from her phone to be greeted by a loud, tear-jerking, traumatising, cohesion-lacking set of clothes on your person. The answer to your question is immediately forgotten, making way for the horror to push it's way past her lips instead.
"You're going out??? In... That?"
You look down at your outfit for a singular agonising second before shrugging your shoulders with a bright smile that she wants so badly to erase.
"I'm not naked, so it's all good!"
Lara jumps off the couch in alarm when you turn your back and begin walking towards the front door in your bright yellow pajama pants paired with a neon green football shirt.
Unfortunately, the misleading concern that comes out of her mouth next only serves to worsen the conundrum that is your nonexistent fashion sense.
"Let me get you a jacket! It's cold outside!"
"No worries!"
To her horror, you reach for the cursed white hooded cardigan on the hook. You're out of the door before she could even get another word out-
Excited over the prospect of snacks and remaining oblivious to the way that Lara immediately hops on WeVerse to draft her statement meant to defend you when you inevitably go trending today when someone snaps a picture of you in the ungodly outfit.
As per her prediction: You're the top third highest tag on Twitter after sundown. Pictures of you from afar looking like a traffic light had a child with a paintball arena would be the talk of the town for weeks.
A groan claws its way out of Lara's throat when she sees your latest quoted retweet: A picture of you posing with fans in your outfit that looks like how bent cymbals sound.
@Y/N_L/N123: I'm the shit!
The smile on her face lasts for all but a moment before she places a pillow over her head to muffle the anguished screams that come from her soul.
There is no goddamned way that she is falling head over heels for a woman whose sense of style would scare Helena Bonham-Carter into dressing up with mediocre fashion.
When the need for oxygen forces her to lift the pillow, Lara finds herself taking on the role of a Catholic repressed sapphic: Praying for her crush on her groupmate to disappear.
News flash: It never happens.
Not when your initiative to always help Sophia with taking care of the group never falters despite your exhaustion, not when you always take a moment to look at the snack cupboards to catalogue what's missing and what's running low before impromptu corner store visits but still asking her what she would want anyway-
Not when your laid back approach to the memes that are being made of you online begins inspiring her to be as unbothered about the hate as you are;
Not when your smile makes her forget about the hell-sent color combinations you choose for your outfits.
Accompanied by a clap of her hands, Sophia's voice carries through the living room filled with six other girls who are getting ready for a relaxing day out.
Daniela responds by patting her shoes before jumping to her feet.
"Dale!"
Manon offers her a firm nod, her signature relaxed smile never leaving her lips.
"Let's do it."
Megan throws up two thumbs up, bouncing on her spot from the floor with a beaming smile on her face.
"Born ready!"
Yoonchae smiles in that way that always seems to be somewhere between calm and excited.
"Good to go!"
With your easy smile and your skin brimming with energy over the prospect of getting a day off that you can spend freely as you wished to- You nod at Sophia without further encore.
Lara's staring at you with open horror: Clad in your jean shorts reaching below the knee, a shirt that's tye dye printed, with low cut converse and socks that go past the ankle.
She wonders how you could be so confident in such a... Brave culmination of questionable clothing items.
There is no other way to describe how she feels other than 'Speechless' especially when you turn that bright grin in her direction and hold your hand out for her to take.
"You good to go, Lara?"
Daniela holds in her own laughter when she meets Manon's eyes. Sophia is grinning from her spot, inwardly laughing at her bandmate's suffering.
Lara intertwines her fingers with yours, doing her best to ignore the throbbing pain behind her eyeballs caused by your shirt and trying to focus instead on how happy you look at getting to hold her hand.
"Only if you are."
Megan and Yoonchae are snickering as quietly as they can, huddled together as they poke fun at the Indian woman's pain that you are completely naive to.
When everyone makes it out of the dorm and into the van, Lara pulls you flush against her body with gentle tugs on your connected hands.
She keeps her eyes on the passing scenery outside the window, trying to convince herself that it's because she can't stand to look at your atrocious style that not even a great pair of converse could save.
Later, when traffic starts getting heavy and she looks at you to see how you're doing- Lara finds goosebumps scattered across your skin. She shakes her head with a well meant scoff that catches your attention.
"It's windy out. You'll get cold in that godforsaken shirt."
All she gets for her concern is that gentle smirk that feels like both a blessing and a curse. You lean your head against her shoulder after a loose shrug of your own.
"I've got you to keep me warm."
The words were whispered but with how much they rang out in her mind, you might as well have said it with a megaphone against her ear.
The stillness brought by the shock wears off when the van starts moving forward, lightly jolting everyone in their seats.
Lara takes her time shedding her denim jacket, wordlessly draping it across your frame with as much gentleness as she can manage with her shaking hands.
When Manon later elbows her with a knowing look, she'll claim that it's simply to hide the heinously eyecatching shirt you've got on.
When the after party of their newest album reveal comes around, Lara's stressing over outfits after she learned that Katseye would be free to dress themselves how they wanted without the overbearing presence of stylists.
Not for herself though. For you.
The nightclub was rented out for the night, invitations sent only to staff members and to the inner circle of the girls themselves so they can let loose as much as they want without scandals bearing down on their heads come morning.
Which means that you're going to be dressing yourself, and since you opted to go catch up with your friends over at one of their houses instead of coming home with the girls after the performance; God knows she can't prevent the disaster before it's already underway.
With a deep breath, Lara forces her nerves to straighten out. She's gonna need steady hands if she wants to ensure sharp eyeliners after all. Time fails to retain meaning when her focus locks into her reflection in the mirror as she ensures that she looks ready for a killer night out.
When Daniela knocks on the door of her room, she wastes no time second guessing and walks out of the door, down the stairs, and into the backseat of the fiery red Mustang which Lara's sure the Latina loves more than she loves Manon- Who already happens to be seated in the passenger seat.
The drive to the venue was a lot quicker than what it normally should've been- Courtesy of Daniela's short fuse when she's on the road. They arrive to the venue a little earlier than the official start of the party, though music can already be heard from behind the entrance doors.
Before she could look for you, Lara's dragged onto the dance floor by Megan and Daniela.
You watch your girls have the time of their lives, unwinding and letting loose in a place where no cameras provide risk of scandals. Soon, the thumping music and the strobe lighting starts to bring tension to your nerves, and without further wait- You head off to the private quiet of the balcony.
A sigh escapes your lips at the abrupt silence that greets you like an old long missed friend. The city skyline that greets you is reminiscent of the party going on downstairs: Vibrant, alive, and just out of reach enough to be aesthetically pleasing instead of overwhelming.
"Sneaking out of your own party?"
There's a teasing note in the voice from the voice that creeps up behind you, and you don't fight the smile that creeps up on your face as Lara slides up beside you close enough for your shoulders to rest skin to skin.
"Technically it's 'our' party, so we can do whatever we want."
She nods sagely like your words carried some sort of wisdom that would elude masses, but you know her better to know that she's just playing the jester like she usually does. You take note of every detail of her side profile gently illuminated by the dim lights.
There's a light sheen of sweat on her skin from the non-stop dancing that she's been up to with Daniela, the smile on her face is soft only in the way that it is when she's basking, and her eyes are moving across the sight before her; Like she's finding minute details that are worth wondering about for split seconds.
"You seemed like you were having fun, you know you didn't have to follow me up here right?"
The shrug of her shoulders is immediate, easy- Like the truth in her words is a well lived lifestyle instead of a simple declaration meant to speak of this one off a moment.
"It's only fun when I know you're there with me."
Lara's eyes pierce through yours with sincerity, and words evade you at her declaration because there's nothing that could be said in return when someone tells you that your presence isn't just desired but needed.
Her eyes, ever honest and ever detail oriented start sizing you up from head to toe- Glinting with an appreciative spark as she takes her time with her observant gaze.
"You dressed... Like you could have anyone on their knees for you."
The surprise in her voice doesn't escape you, and it draws a laugh from your lips that has Lara's blood burning hot in her veins with the desire to keep the sound away from the world; Hoarded only for herself.
"A miracle graces these lands every once in a while."
You gently shove your shoulder sideways with enough force to jostle her relaxed lean, and your efforts are returned with a humoring scoff.
"Thank God, I was afraid I'd have to bring a jacket for you."
The shared laughter fades gradually like the flavor of savored wine after it has gone down smoothly and soon enough shared silence lingers between you like a favourite expensive perfume.
"Can I tell you a secret?"
"Hm?"
She turns her full attention to you and you can't bring yourself to look away despite the pounding of your heart at the confession you're about to whisper into the air.
"I only dressed horribly because I... Didn't know how else to catch your eye-"
Lara's eyebrows shoot upward in surprise as her jaw falls slack by it's hinges in disbelief.
When the rest of the girls later ask about why she looked like a fish pulled out of water, as per your recounting: She'll tell them that it's because she never expected her feelings to be mutual.
(She'll take it to the grave that her first immediate response to your confession was relief over the fact that you don't actually have the fashion sense of a gorilla that got lost in a closet.)
"And borrowing your jackets it was the only way I could think of to feel you on my skin that didn't feel like... Something casual, I guess.."
You didn't know what expect, so you weren't really expecting anything. But her smiling at you like you put the sun in the sky was an outcome you'd only ever dreamed of.
What convinces you that the moment is indeed happening in reality is when a gentle rising of the wind blows past you with enough cold to raise goosebumps on your flesh and place a shiver down your spine.
Lara steps away from the balcony railing to wrap her arms around your waist from behind. Holding you close like she'd have to be fought tooth and nail to let you go.
She places a lingering kiss to the top of your head, and the gentle wind of her breath in your hair is a memory of a feeling that you won't ever forget for the rest of your life.
"I promise you that from here on out: You won't ever need the jackets again."
Lara's skin carries heat that is reminiscent of sitting by a fireplace on a snowy Christmas day, and her words feel like the best gift to have ever been handed to you- And like snow exposed to the light of a blazing torch:
You melt into her grasp like you've found serenity.
Summary: Deep in her mind, the one word that's lit up like neon signs whenever asked to describe you is "Hesitant". It hurts to see that you're only ever that way with her, and everything comes to a head when the hurtful yearning spills forth from Sophia's bleeding heart after a day that drove her insane.
"Kanibalismo, di ka matiis; Pag inalis mo, ika'y mamimiss." "Cannibalism, I can't bear you; If you remove it, I'll miss you deeply."
Requested? ❌
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mild Violence, Hurt and Comfort, 7th Member!Reader
Warning: Descriptions of Cannibalism, Suggestive Themes
Extra Tags: Each member of Katseye gets a segment, Yearning equated to Cannibalism, discussion of cravings, Sophia is going to lose her grip, average wlw yearning experience honestly
It begins with curiosity like every single discovery of hers always does. The burn starts out as a warmth that is felt like a pressed bruise, when observations click into place like puzzle pieces that reveal the bigger pictures.
Ever since Dream Academy, you've kept to your own space. Conversations are short and your soft tone was the only saving grace that convinced everyone that you weren't bitchy or hateful- Just... Shy.
Never any hugs, never any pats- You'd shrink away from her touch and take a shaking step back when she accidentally opens her arms out for a hug in your direction.
Sophia has always chalked it up to you being a touch averse person, but your admission into Katseye starts tearing down that assumption like a jengga tower being hollowed out piece by piece until it comes crashing down with a loud and grating sound.
The third week as a girl group is when her self-confidence towards you starts falling apart like leather that begins to peel off due to being infested with mold.
Everybody collapses to the ground sluggishly after a day of extremely gruelling rehearsals, the sounds of ragged breathing fills the silence left behind by the ending of the music and sweat smoothly drips off of skins like rain on the surface of rocks.
Everybody immediately jumps on the chance to catch a break- Everybody except Yoonchae. Who pivots in her ending pose and takes off running in your direction with the brightest grin on her face before throwing herself at you for a hug.
"Unnie, you were perfect!"
The cheer catches Sophia's attention like a hook embedding into a fish's mouth: Pulling her to the start of her doom.
You catch the Maknae with steady arms and a joyful laughter ringing out from the depths of your heart, proud, unrestrained and freely given.
She watches you spin Yoonchae in the air with eyes closed in happiness and a smile that shows teeth. It's a beautiful show of sisterhood and camaraderie, and everyone else joined in on laughing with soft expressions on their faces- Everyone except Sophia.
The sight ignites something sick underneath her skin, which itches with a low but constant intensity that makes her want to peel it off like it was nothing more than wet paper. It's a sinking feeling, and to keep herself from being pulled under-
Sophia kicks her feet as hard as she can and forces her numb and tired legs to push her to stand upright. The smile she paints on her face feels wrong. A knock off of the joy she should be feeling over the fact that at least on of her members still stands resilient after a hard day's work.
She keeps it plastered onto her face anyway. But then the sickness takes hold later at night: When Sophia laughs at a joke you threw towards Yoonchae and the Leader raises her hand towards you for a high five.
Your joyful actions screeches to a halt for all of a millisecond.
But the miniscule falter of your smile and the apprehension she finds in your eyes when it flicks over to her palm leaves her feeling weak like a plague settled on her shoulders.
You press your hand against her anyway, because you never leave anyone hanging if you could help it- It's just who you are with your groupmates. But the hesitant force of your touch feels like corrosion:
Rusting Sophia's confidence and peeling off the pretty layers of flaking paint to reveal something warped, dulled, rough, dark, and dangerous.
That night, she goes to sleep wondering what your presence with her would feel like if you set it free of its restraints.
Would it taste like victory?
Would it bring relief?
Would it soothe her ailing heart or worsen its condition?
Has she gotten so used to your tendency for bolting, that anything else from you would feel disgusting?
Two months into the life of being popstars and the small itching jealousy morphs into something that feels more twisted.
It's on the group's rare free day that she finds you curled up on the dorm couch with Lara's arms cocooning you as the two of you watch tiktoks together.
She takes note of how your head seems to fit in the crook of Lara's neck like you were specifically molded for that space. This time, she's unable to keep her brow from furrowing nor her lips from forming a scowl.
The word 'Selfish' rings in her mind, the fraying strands of her sensibilities telling her that she should be happy that you're finally coming out of your shell- That as the Leader, she should be encouraging everyone to help you break out of your bubble.
But her sanity is slipping now, slowly being suffocated to death by her desire to be a safe space for you too. Like an ivy that creeps up on all available surfaces to begin siphoning life from the other plants around it.
Sophia stands by the doorway, watching as you laugh with Lara and lay a hand on top of hers with a grip that holds more certainty than your eyes ever did when your gaze meets the Filipina's.
It's a sight that worsens the sickness that has taken root in her soul. It's a haunting realization that cements the knowledge of her doom in her mind:
In that moment, Sophia learns that wishing for someone is not the romantic state of having stars in your eyes that the movies made it out to be.
It is devoid of the contentment that should come with seeing you smile like you have no troubles in this world-
Then Lara presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, tender and lingering, and you respond with a small sigh as you close your eyes; It makes Sophia burn with hunger. It's primal and selfish and she wants so badly to have all of your softness to herself, for herself.
Manon enters the room and spots you and Lara on the couch. She wastes no time vaulting over the back of the furniture and landing squarely atop you, creating a Y/N sandwich that has Sophia seeing red.
She walks toward the front door with a mission to save herself from the depravity that comes with yearning for you.
"Where you off to, Leads?"
The hand on the doorknob hesitates in its action, and although she knows that she owes no one an explanation, that it would do her better to walk out of that door and pretend not to have heard Lara- She turns around because she's anchored to her spot by the hope that you're looking at her too; That maybe she can get lost in your gaze too.
"Just going for a small walk. I think I'm about to go stir crazy."
Brown eyes find yours for a split second, and then you're looking away before Sophia can even blink. Like meeting her gaze would mean a violent end for you.
It takes everything the Leader has and then some to lift her lips into a smile that she does not mean, and then she's slipping out of the door before she could fully give in to the urge to walk towards you instead.
Sophia spends three hours pacing the rooftop of the building. Biting her tongue, chewing her lip, grabbing onto the roots of her hair, and holding onto her own arms so harshly that she's sure she will bruise.
The sight of the setting sun makes her want to scream, to claw at her throat and tear into her own vocal cords just so she could eliminate the risk of accidentally confessing to you.
Instead, she stays silent until dinner time comes around.
You're seated beside Lara, giggling cheerfully whenever the Tamil woman would crack a joke and nudge you with an elbow. The sight makes questions float around her head until she forgets that she's supposed to be eating.
What would it feel like to be the reason for your laughter? Would the hunger worsen or would it begin to be sated with every single sound of joy from you?
What would it feel like to be the one who gets to sit so close to you that the warmth of your blood is almost palpable beneath your skin?
What would it feel like to bare her throat and have you press yourself into it's junction? Sophia discovers that she wouldn't even care if you sank your teeth into her flesh instead of snuggling close for warmth like you did for Lara.
In a split second, she learns that she is willing to pour her blood into a glass if you asked for a drink of who she is.
She learns that she would part with her flesh if you found her external sight ugly, but her bones captivatingly beautiful.
Sophia realizes that though she is the one who is starving, she is willing to carve herself up like a roast for someone who doesn't even seem to have a taste for her.
Though it tastes like sand, Sophia forces herself to chew through the food on her plate before Yoonchae could ask her what's wrong.
She lies awake in bed that night, thinking about whether the simple dripping of her blood now was enough, or if Sophia needs to sheds her flesh until all that's left of her is nothing but rattling bones and a desperate soul;
Wondering if she hands you everything that she is on a singular platter, will you finally look at her with an inkling of the hunger she feels for you?
When she finds you next with Daniela, it's a sight that feels like the high fantasy of happiness. The practice room is blaring music that feels nothing like your discography: It's whimsical, lyrics of soft admiration, and beats that feel like dancing in the courtyard of a sunlit castle.
Your hands are holding tightly to each other's as you spin in circles with jumping steps and bright smiles on your face. Laughter rings true and free from your heaving lungs and when Dani pulls you close, a sickeningly adorable squeak from your lips knocks Sophia's breath right out of her chest.
When Daniela lifts you into the air for a carefree spin, Sophia feels like her ribs got split open for her rotting heart to end up bared for the world to see- She wants so badly for it to be seen:
For your eyes to land on her and find the desperation plastered across her face so that you'd take pity on her starving soul and feed her even just a singular ounce of your touch, your presence, your joy.
All but ready to reduce herself to begging on her knees for a taste of your concern, Sophia is ready to throw any dignity of her image away if it meant that your touch would linger with steadiness against her skin.
Her pleas go unheard by the merciless universe. Because when your eyes catch sight of hers from the mirror on the wall, your expression goes from carefree to alarmed.
Like a deer that caught wind of a predator's scent, you tap the Latina's shoulder and when she sets you down you look all but ready to run.
It makes Sophia want to scream, to crawl towards you with such a slow pace that she scrapes her knees raw just to prove to you that she means you no harm, no hurt- That she just wants to feel what it would be like to have you accept the affection that is threatening to consume her from the inside out.
The words come out of her mouth before she could double check the tone it was infused with, and so the pathetic begging of her heart comes out raw and bloody instead of masqueraded as something like admiration.
"No, please- You just. I'm not mad. You guys were beautiful, keep going, don't mind me."
Your grip on Daniela's arm tightens when she smiles like an imp that has found the opportunity for carnage- A silent plea for her to keep quiet, lest the teasing reveals your best kept secret. Thankfully, she takes the hint and keeps her mouth shut.
But then both of their eyes land on your form and suddenly you're no longer thankful; Because now, Daniela is waiting on you to be the one to respond to Sophia.
Waiting on you to talk to the girl who both scares and inspires you. Time drags for what feels like an eternity but neither of the two women seem to be budging from their spots in the room. Your prayer to be swallowed up by the ground goes unanswered, but you give it another moment or two just to be sure.
When the floor boards remain solid instead of splitting open to devour you like you had wished, your throat closes up three times before your words carefully slip from the iron bars you've locked yourself behind.
"Thank you...."
You never once lift your gaze from the ground to meet hers. It's a risk you cannot take, not when you are one last slip up from all but falling into the inescapable condition of being Sophia's.
It shouldn't be as scary as it is to you, knowing that she'd take care of you like how she takes care of everyone else. Maybe she'd even treat you with more gentleness than she does the others out of pity for your unreciprocated feelings-
But you don't want to just be cared for, you don't want to be treated like the others. You want to bare your heart out in your hands to place in hers, but you don't know if she'd tear into you or cradle you.
Your body craves the privilege of being hers to devour, and your gluttonous soul yearns to be full of the contentness that comes with being loved- By Sophia.
Every day of running into her feels like playing dice with the Devil. Every interaction feels like temptation taking a sledgehammer to your virtue. Everything about Sophia feels like falling into an abyss that could only ever end in purgatory.
"You can go now."
So you push her away, in fear of dragging her into the mess of emotions and bravery issues that exists within your love. You hear the practice door softly click shut without another peep from Sophia and it feels like carving out your own liver instead of feeling like safety.
A sigh from Daniela reaches your ears, and you're unable to look at even your best friend in this moment as she places a grounding hand on your tense shoulder.
"I hope you tell her, someday."
A spark of greed and selfishness lights a fire within you, and you snuff it out so thoroughly that even the ashes of your temporarily halted affections lack warmth.
You want to.
You'd give almost everything for her to know. But you shake your head at Daniela instead, your heart hammering against your chest.
"I can't take that risk."
"You can't? Or you won't?"
You walked out of the practice room without giving an answer.
The sound of blocks being placed felt grounding, something to focus on instead of the charged silence that floats between you and the Hawaiian who is graciously doing her best to pretend like she's unbothered.
"You're allowed to ask whatever it is you want to, you know?"
Megan flinches as she's shot dead by a skeleton, though you're certain it's not because of the death that she had such a reaction to. You're proven right when she doesn't hit the respawn button and instead brings her hand up to sheepishly rub at the back of her neck.
Even with your eyebrow raised like you've caught a kid with their hand in a cookie jar, her expression leaves little room for anything more grave than exasperation to be felt in your veins.
"I just- Why won't you just tell 'Fia how you feel? It's not my place to say more, but I promise you it's not... Badly unwanted like you think it is."
You sigh, digging a hole and burying your character in it for the approaching night before turning to face Megan. She looks at you with an honestly confused expression in her eyes, and it makes you hope she never learns of just how twisted loving someone could actually be.
"There's so much on the line, Megs. Our careers, our chemistry as a group, our image, the fact that she's probably straight, the fact that I don't want to end up with a broken heart- There's so much.."
A knock on the door shocks both of you. It would've been hilarious if one of you fell off of the bed, but then Sophia's peeking into the room and finding you and Megan shoulder to shoulder.
It hurts like a carving knife to the gut to see her face be so crestfallen every time she finds you being openly affectionate with literally anyone else but her.
It feels like your guts being tied into knots while your heart still beats strong, and the fact that you don't even bother being subtle about avoiding her makes you want to offer apologies on your knees until your joints pop loose.
"Dinner's ready."
Sophia says it in a whisper, her voice raspier than it should be and her eyes carrying hurt that makes her the very picture of Atlas with the weight of the world on his back.
But despite the hurt, she still seeks out your gaze like how vultures seek out carcasses; Starving and Desperate. Though she knows she'll get no answers, that this moment will be a repeat of those that came before.
Sophia still asks a thousand questions with a single glimpse:
Would you help me breathe if it meant holding my lungs in your hand?
Would you hold me together if it meant getting blood staining your nails as you cradle my heart?
Would you savor my blood with gratitude if I bared the veins on my neck to you freely? Or would you turn your cheek in disgust at the rot that now flows through her blood, in the course of yearning for you?
She chooses not to voice any of it, taking her leave instead and closing the door behind her with a heavy heart as she speaks, uncaring if you can hear at this point.
"We'll be at the table."
When she makes it back to the kitchen, she pretends not to feel the pity in Lara and Daniela's gazes- Shooting Yoonchae a smile that hides her masochism when the youngest lays a gentle hand on her arm.
"Unnie, are you okay?"
"No need to worry about me, Chip."
"Unnie.."
Sophia realizes that the Korean is starting to take after her now, finding a perfect reflection of her own stern but worried look in the eyes of her youngest member. It's something else to add to the weight of her heart, to know that if she tries to play this off- Yoonchae would be as hurt as she is when someone lies to her.
So she pushes for candid vulnerability, regardless of how much it makes her want to curl up and turn invisible in some faraway corner.
"I think I'll be fine."
It's the most honest and most optimistic reply she can give when her appetite disappears every time she sees you now. It's the best she can promise when she feels herself running dangerously low on the patience she has always been commended for.
Sophia smiles because she can't see the future.
She doesn't know that later tonight, the closeness between you and Manon will send her running back to her safe space when the anger and the hunger boils over the edge of her limits.
You follow her to her safe space, taking two stairs at a time in stride and soldiering past the burn in your lungs. Reaching the top of the stairs feels like the point of no return, and you find yourself hesitating for a moment before pressing your shaking hands against the metal door and swinging it wide open to reveal the figure of Sophia's back against the moonlight.
"I told you not to bother."
The words arrive immediately, coated with so much poison that it hurts your ears to hear. You bear it, for the pain is a consequence of your actions and running from accountability would never end well. Not for this.
"I did anyway."
She scoffs, a fed up and borderline resentful sound. You see her barely tilt her head in your direction, and you could almost imagine the furrow of her brows and the burning cold in her eyes when she's really really angry.
"Why?"
"Because I care about you, 'Fi."
At the sound of her nickname being spoken so softly from your lips for the very first time, she turns around sharply. It's the worst she's ever looked: Mussed hair, wild eyes, dilated pupils, scowling lips, snarling teeth-
Fear creeps into your heart when you realise that she reminds you of a rabid dog, and Guilt follows alongside it when you realise that you did this to her.
"What twisted understanding do you have of the word 'Care' Y/N?"
Sophia crosses the distance between you in record time, stalking forward with thundering steps that are powered by love that has weakened her fortitude.
"Some nerve you've got to say you care about me, when you've always acted like you wanted to get rid of me-"
You blink once and her hands are suddenly holding onto fistfuls of your shirt collar. A small look of your eyes is all you manage before Sophia is slamming your back against the door behind you while holding you at an arms length.
" -What twisted definition of 'Care' do you have in your head, huh? What sort of game do you think I am, that you've decided to play that card after making me feel crazy this entire time?!"
She shakes you after each statement, pushing you back against the solid metal surface harder and harder each time until the handle of the door starts to dig against your spine.
"If you need me as much as you say you do, you'll tell me the truth."
You nod resolutely despite the sweat on your palms and the shaking of your loose grip around her wrist. You don't even know when your hands moved of their own accord, and you're pretty sure it's not wise to be touching the Filipina when you're the exact reason why she's currently losing hold of her senses.
"Why?"
Old habits die hard though, and your defensive traits flare up before your bravery does; Resulting in an answer that is as flimsy as wet paper against a bullet.
"What do you mea-"
Sophia slams you against the door again, using force that puts her past shaking of you to shame. Your head connects harshly with the metal, and your teeth end up biting the inside of your cheek- Resulting in a sharp searing pain that brings tears to your eyes.
Her patience has snapped, and when you make the mistake of looking right into the depths of her eyes: Your fears come true.
You break under the command of her words, and everything you've ever kept a secret from her comes cascading into the light for her to see.
"I'm scared to tell you I love you."
The sound of your own voice grates against your ears, whispered as silently as it was- You know Sophia has heard it loud and clear with how close she has brought her face to yours.
The blood in your mouth tastes poetic, a brief thought flickers into your mind: You deserve the sickening taste now coating your tongue, you deserve to bleed as much as you've metaphorically made her with the maddening treatment you've kept up since the very start.
"I want to be yours so badly, I want to know what it's like to be special to you. I want everything about you, the good and the bad- I want to show you just how badly I'm starving for even the smallest piece of your heart but I couldn't.. I can't.. You never would've-"
You can feel your world collapsing beneath your feet with every single word, can feel your heart shrinking like a dehydrated, pitiful thing- And ugly desperate sobs tear themselves free of your throat with every closely guarded secret that slips from your grasp.
The tears burn on the way down from the corner of your eyes, and you briefly wonder if they'd cut your skin with how much their salty paths hurt as they trace down your skin.
Every drop saps the strength from your knees, each inhale feels like losing a war, each sob worsens the shame and steals even more air that you no longer have.
You followed Sophia up here prepared for a confrontation, you were never prepared to tear your heart out of your chest and hand it to her on shaking palms and quivering confessions.
"-Please don't make me say it.. I can't. I can't. I can't-"
To you: Each repitition of your plea feels like death. It feels like begging to go back to an easier time that has long since been gone. It amplifies the taste of iron in your mouth and it drags you down to your weakest point.
To Sophia: Each repitition of your plea feels like victory. It feels like getting addicted to an ecstatic high that everyone swore would be terrible. It turns the festering madness of her mind into sadistic glee.
But even at her worst, some part of the Sophia who nurtures and encourages still exists. Twisted and warped and enraged as she may be, she is still the same person who has been hungry for you since the start of it all-
So she leans in even closer with soft shushes falling from her lips, and because her sanity has all but snapped: Sophia finally indulges herself for a taste of what she has been starving for all this time.
The feeling of her lips pressing against the tears flowing down your cheek feels like damnation and salvation at the same time; Reminiscent of the start of a nightmare and the climax of a dream all at once.
It splits your veins wide open for all semblance of strength to spill out of your body, and it reduces you to a broken mess that has forgotten purpose and direction.
"Please don't hate me. I'm so sorry, just please don't hate me."
You're a broken record playing your worst nightmares on repeat, and Sophia thinks you've never looked as beautiful as you do now: The most honest and unguarded you've ever been in her presence.
With you falling apart in her hands after two and a half years of chasing after you from a self-imposed distance, it doesn't matter that the journey was hell, it doesn't matter that you made her lose her mind just to get this close to you- It doesn't matter that you're mouth is filled with both spit and blood.
It just matters that you're both here, together, at your lowest and your most vulnerable.
Sophia presses her lips to yours with so much force that it completely drowns out your sobbing. She finally finds out exactly what your lips feel like against her: You taste of blood and salt, you taste of the same insanity she has carried all this time, and you taste like her newest addiction all in one.
She kisses you like she means to kill you, like she's doing you a mercy by denying you air as she presses you flat against the metal door with the full weight of her body. When her lungs start burning as well, Sophia thinks she would die happily if it meant her last memory would be the taste of you.
The kiss is broken when your hands leave her wrists to cup her face, it takes all of your remaining strength to push the Leader away from you. Your eyes remain closed as you gasp for air like a person drowning in stormy waves.
"Oh my pretty, pathetic girl. I could never hate you."
You feel one of her hands grab your chin, the touch feels condescendingly sweet. Like the bait placed on a spring loaded bear trap that's sure to tear a limb clean off your body.
"Look at me."
The three words are whispered against your lips, it's vibrations felt more than it's sound is heard. But they came from Sophia and so you find yourself obeying the very moment that the command is said.
You find her eyes staring straight into yours, the pupils dark and blown out. She smiles with teeth, dangerous and bloody and looking like an emaciated wolf about to dig into a fresh feast.
"Tonight? I'm going to show you exactly what it's like to be loved by someone who has been dying for a chance with you."
The promise is dark but her touch is heavenly, and you've been in the deep end since the beginning even if you've tried to convince yourself otherwise.
There's blood on both your lips, smearing against skin and the fabric on the shoulder of your shirts. But it's a reminder of how much it took to finally find your way to each other, so you savor it's crimson presence instead of shunning it.
You loop your arms around her neck, holding on like you're afraid she'll disappear if you let go; And Sophia holds onto your waist with desperation that matches your starvation.
