Found this drabble sitting in a folder marked "Fun Thoughts" on my computer at work. @Past Me ummmmm what the fuck?
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“I still think about it.”
“What?”
He’s tucking her blankets up under her chin and she’s staring at him, pupils blown from the drugs and the darkness.
“Us.”
He hesitates. It feels unethical to ask her for more information, even though his curiosity is piqued. He thinks he knows where she’s going with this. Us. Such a little word to hold so much weight. “You’re not thinking straight,” he says gently instead, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “You’re high.”
She hums pleasantly, turning into his touch. “Do you still think about us?”
“I try not to,” he answers honestly. But yes. All the time.
“What a waste,” she mumbles as she burrows into the comforter.
He smiles and hums affirmation, but his heart grows heavy with the sentiment.
“We would have been so good together,” she continues, her voice muffled but her bright eyes still on his face.
Dimitri checks the time on his phone as an excuse to look away. “It’s late,” he tells her, wondering if she has noticed how odd his voice sounds when he says it. “You should go to sleep.”
“Do you ever think about elephants?”
That startles a laugh out of him.
“If we didn’t know about elephants they would be really weird. They have such long noses.”
“They do,” he agrees, indulging her drug-addled thoughts.
“I should go to sleep.”
He’s starting to wonder if she’s just talking to herself and he’s just along for the ride. “That’s a good idea.”
“Kiss me first?” she asks innocently.
“No,” he answers, smiling. “Go to sleep.”
“What about a hug?”
“Roza,” he says her name in an exasperated sigh. The temptation to be close to her is always at the back of his mind. How easy it would be to slip up, just for a moment. This could be one of those moments.
“Please?” Rose presses, pouting.
He leans in, touching the side of his face to hers awkwardly. Her arms snake out from under the covers and lock around his neck.
“Gotcha,” she whispers playfully in his ear. He shivers as her breath plays across his neck and beats back the amoral side of him that is suggestively making note of the way she has pulled herself against him.
He tries to pull away, but the drugs haven’t had any impact on her grip strength. She clings to his neck stubbornly, holding him down.
“Rose,” he warns disapprovingly, moving his hands over hers as he tries to wrest her away from him.
“Dimitri,” she answers, mimicking his chastising growl.
“I’m stronger than you,” he says pointedly. His fingers are working at hers, trying to find leverage.
“I’m faster,” she returns boastfully. It’s not really true, but he doesn’t correct her when she pulls away, moving her hands in faux karate chops. Her lips are pursed and her cheeks are puffed with air as she makes sound effects to go along with her movements.
He extricates himself from the bed quickly, smothering a smile. It takes her a moment to process that she’s accidentally released him.
“Damn,” she mumbles, letting her hands fall to her face.
A swell of affection warms his chest as he watches her. Like always, it’s sincere and full of earnest friendship. Tinged with something deeper, awestruck and compelling. As though he has a higher power to thank for her simply existing in proximity to him. It’s so much more than platonic, but he’s afraid to look too closely at what that is.
So he pushes it down.