Kris decides she needs to talk to Willow before Blood and Guts.
~
Kris’ hand freezes as she reaches up to knock on the door. She knows she should. They’re on the same team. It’s the right thing to do, for all of them.
But she can’t. After all this time, she doesn’t know how to.
“Stat Daddy!”
Kris jumps and whirls around to see Harley, clad in bright pink and glowing turquoise. “Hey, Harley.”
“I see you are knocking on our door.” Harley wiggles her eyebrows. “Are we considering a conversation with our dear Willow again?”
Kris sighs. “Look, Harley – “
“I won’t be even the littlest bit jealous!” Harley says. “As long as I can join in.” Her eyes glaze over a little bit. “Oh, to feel all four of your hands on me at once. Not to mention what your mouths –”
“Harley,” Kris says, and the chaos does feel comfortably familiar.
“Kris,” Harley says. She flutters her eyelashes.
“Just – let’s not jump to the threesome before she’ll actually speak to me.”
“So it’s a possibility!” Harley stands up stock straight. “I assure you, Stat Daddy, I will be nothing but a support during your attempts to apologize and win back your princess.”
“She – princess? I guess?” Kris winces. “She’s my ex girlfriend, not a princess.”
“The same thing, if you treat her right.” Harley winks, a little much, and Kris is about to leave and give up when the door opens.
Willow looks at her, and for the shortest moment, Kris is worried she’s about to throw a punch. Instead, Willow leans against the door frame, with the smallest smile on her lips. Kris’ heart races.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” she says. “Hey, kitty.”
“Meow,” Harley replies. Kris will have to ask about that nickname later.
“Hi,” Kris says. She’s probably having a heart attack, at this point. She can hear her heartbeat. That can’t be normal. She starts to worry if Willow can hear it, too.
“Hi,” Willow echoes. “Harley?”
“On it, boss.”
“No, I meant – ” But Harley’s already sprinting off into the other direction and Willow looks as baffled as Kris feels.
“What does she think you asked for?” Kris can’t help but ask.
“Probably a snack. A new bra. Somebody’s wallet. God only knows with that girl.” She sighs, that smile in her eyes still burned into Kris’ heart. “So is this you wanting to come in?” Willow asks.
Kris’ eyes go to the sign on the door. “Is any of the rest of the conglomerononinon in there?”
Willow snorts. “You see that post, too?”
Kris feels light, airy almost. She hasn’t laughed with Willow for longer than she can remember. “It’s cute. I sing that any time I listen to Femininomenon.”
Willow steps aside. “And no. The place is empty. The rest of them ran off to catering.” She leans in. Kris’ heart does that thing again. “Allegedly there’s Cheetos, but I don’t care.”
“You always were more of a fan of, like, anything else.”
Willow snort laughs, and Kris is pretty sure she’s seconds from passing out.
“Why don’t you, uh, come inside?” Willow steps away and now there’s room. There’s space for Kris again. “We can go over the Blood and Guts match, maybe.” She smiles, and Kris can feel the opportunity in front of her. She won’t fuck it up this time, whatever this is. “Catch up?”
Kris nods. “I’d like that.”
The door closes behind her, and Kris feels comfortable for the first time in years.
~
Mini Playlist:
Just put Feminimomenon by Chappell Roan on repeat. It doesn't perfectly match the vibe lyrically but it is fun.
For Damn It December day 18: Bizarre holiday related injury
~
“Babe,” calls Willow from the kitchen. Her voice is steady. Almost too steady.
“What did you do?” Kris asks. She puts down her phone and walks, not runs, to the kitchen.
“Babe, how invested were you in the apple pie for Christmas dinner?”
Kris frowns. “Willow, what did you do?”
“Nothing!” Willow says. She’s standing in front of the sink with a paper towel wrapped around her hand. There’s a tiny hint of red at the top of it. “It’s fine. We do not need to go to the emergency room.”
“The way you’re saying it makes me think we do,” Kris says. From where she’s standing, she doesn’t see any droplets of blood, or skin, or, god forbid, limbs. But there’s still a lot of damage that could be done. Willow’s good at knowing how to apply pressure. “What happened?”
“I – apple corer,” Willow says, almost sheepishly.
“What?”
“It was a difficult apple!” Willow argues. “And I slipped!”
“How much blood?”
“I promise, it’s fine.”
“Willow,” Kris says, walking up closer. She takes Willow’s hand gently. “How much blood?”
“A little,” Willow murmurs.
Kris quickly moves the paper towel, expecting gruesome carnage.
It’s a tiny little nick near the cuticle, barely bleeding anymore. “Oh,” she says. “It is only a little blood. Why were you all weird about it?”
“Because you seemed, like, really excited about the apple pie, and now I got all my blood in it,” Willow says, sighing. “I ruined it.”
“God, I thought you were, like, dying,” Kris says. She’s relieved, in a weird way. “Knowing how much shit you’ve dealt with in street fights, I was scared this was bad.”
“It is bad,” Willow says, and god does she looks cute when she pouts. Kris resists the urge to kiss it off of her. She’s in the middle of something. “I messed up the pie and I promised I’d make you one after we did weird avant garde Thanksgiving.”
“We all liked the avant garde Thanksgiving,” Kris points out. “I wasn’t, like, mad I didn’t have apple pie. We had that cool Brazilian dessert. That was so good.”
Willow chances a smile. “You won’t be mad if we have to do storebought pie?”
“Wills,” Kris says, leaning in to kiss her forehead, “Never.”
KrisWillow - dancing around each other, getting a perwinkle energy
"Wait-" Kris says before she can stop herself. Willow turns to face her and smiles, waiting for her to continue, but whatever it is that compelled her to call out gets stuck in her throat. "Um...nothing. Sorry." She tries not to dig too deep into the almost hopeful expression falling.
"See you later, Kris," Willow says with a small, almost disappointed smile. Kris can't help but feel disappointed too.
There's only one room left at the hotel, even though Kris confirmed her reservation that morning. Something spooky is up, and Willow offers to share.
~
*does spooky hands* You don't feel the impulse to question the timeline of this series. This takes care of bingo square N1: Only One Bed. I do love me a good classic trope! Title from Hypnotic by Zella Day.
~
Looking back, it started when she got misted and fought it. It started when Julia was angry because Willow didn’t give in to the mist right away, when she still stood with Kris.
But the crescendo hit the night before a regular old Dynamite taping.
“No way,” Kris says in front of Willow in line, the sun long ago set behind the hotel. “That can’t be right. My job booked the hotel for me.” Willow can hear the frustration in her voice. “I called to confirm this morning.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” says the desk clerk. “We can’t find your name in the system.” Her smile really is apologetic and kind, but Willow’s pretty sure that wouldn’t do much to assuage her annoyance at being denied sleep for the night before a show. “We can coordinate with other hotels in the area, if you’d like?”
Things have been weird lately. Between Skye and Kris and Julia, Willow’s hardly been able to tell up from down. And Kris…
She shouldn’t.
“Do you have a room for Willow Nightingale?” she pipes up. “Kris, you’re welcome to stay with me.” She presses her lips together before she says anything else stupid.
Kris turns around, eyeing her carefully. “Are you sure?” she asks. “You’re not gonna try weird spooky shit on me?”
Willow huffs. “Can – ma’am, Sydney, would you be able to check if my room is available?”
Sydney nods and types something in the computer. “Aha! There you are.” She smiles at Willow. “Will you be needing two keys then?”
Turning to Kris, she tries to say what she couldn’t before just with her eyes.
“Yes,” Kris finally says, tension leaving her shoulders. “Yes, two keys, I guess.”
Willow doesn’t feel excited, exactly. But she can’t deny the anticipation.
Ever since she’d gotten misted, things had been weird with Kris. They hadn’t spoken like they’d used to, they didn’t flirt like they had in the past. Whatever had been promising to build collapsed. Kris doesn’t trust her anymore.
Sydney passes out the key cards to the room, still smiling. “301,” she says. “Enjoy your stay.”
Awkward. The walk to the elevator is awkward, the elevator ride is awkward, the walk to the room is awkward, even the ability to swipe her key card is awkward. Kris doesn’t even look at her the whole time, just walks close behind Willow and drops her things on the floor.
“There’s only one bed,” she says, frowning.
“That’s okay!” Willow says, frantically. “I, um. I can ask if they have a cot. They have a chair, too. I could sleep there.”
Kris frowns and turns to Willow. “Why would you sleep in the chair? I’m the one in your hotel room.
Willow opens her mouth, ready to argue, but finds she can’t. “Oh. Right, of course.” She sits down on the bed. “Kris, this is weird. This is really weird.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Kris folds her arms across her chest as she leans against the desk. “I called the front desk this morning and they told me my room was ready.” She raises an eyebrow. “Is this some weird House of Black bullshit so you spooky freaks can get me all softened up for Julia?”
“No!” Willow says. “No, I promise – I didn’t have anything to do with them. Or this. Or, well, anything.” She pauses. “This is so weird. I promise I didn’t do anything.”
Kris studies her face carefully. Willow does her best to look innocent, which she finds weirdly difficult when she doesn’t even know what she could have done. “Did you see Julia today?”
“No,” Willow says automatically. “I – wait.” She pauses, a memory skittering across her vision. “I think I did. Hold on.” She closes her eyes. “It’s right there, I think – maybe the airport?”
“Did she do something to you?” Kris asks. Willow turns to her. “Think, Wills. What happened?”
Willow gets a little chill at the sound of the nickname she hasn’t heard in weeks. “I – I think…” She trails off. “I think Julia found me in the bathroom at the airport.” Her eyes flash open. “Oh, my god. She tried to mist me again and then…” She frowns. “Okay, so I might have done something stupid.”
“Stupid?”
“I told her to fuck off and go mist somebody who cares,” Willow winces. “She’s going to kill me, isn’t she.”
“Probably,” Kris says, almost chipper. “But, like you’ll probably be fine. You can handle yourself, right?”
“Why do you seem excited at the idea that Julia wants me dead?” Willow stands up and begins to pace in spite of herself. “What the hell did I do to you, Kris?”
Kris, at least, looks surprised. “Willow, you’ve been acting weird. Really weird, you and Skye.” It looks like she’s trying to glare, but it’s almost more like she’s about to cry. “And you – stopped talking to me. You never answered any of my texts. I’d knock on your room and you’d never answer.”
“Wait,” Willow says, pulling out her phone. She shows the screen of texts from Kris. The last one was dated weeks before. “Kris, I haven’t gotten any texts from you. Not for ages.”
Kris snatches the phone from Willow’s hand and scrolls. Willow can feel her cheeks burn – both of them know what Kris will find, if she goes two or so months back. “This isn’t what my phone looks like.” She drops the phone to the bed, face up, and Willow can see the photos she’d sent to Kris. She quickly flips it over as Kris pulls out her own phone. “Look.”
Willow takes Kris’ phone, cradling it gently. There are dozens – literally dozens – of messages, the most recent dating to two weeks ago.
“You texted me,” Willow murmurs, eyes on the phone. She slowly looks up to see Kris’s eyes locked on her face. “You’ve been texting me this whole time.”
“I have,” Kris says. “I thought you were ignoring me.” She presses her lips together, entire body taut with holding something back. She stares so hard, Willow thinks she can feel her searching her soul. “I thought you chose Julia over me.”
“Never,” Willow says, and it’s too quickly. Her heart is racing. “It was always you, Kris.” She steps in, and Kris’ legs fall open for her to step between. This is too much, too fast, and she doesn’t want anything different. “You knew that.”
“I wasn’t sure,” Kris says, and there’s a sheepish smile on her lips. “You never said anything. Maybe you send pretty pictures to everybody.” She picks up Willows phone and holds it in front of her face so it unlocks, and Willow sees herself stretched out on a bed with a little smile in nothing but a big tee shirt and a pair of pink and purple socks. “Maybe I wasn’t special.”
“No one else has seen that photo,” Willow breathes. “I only sent it to you.”
She doesn’t know who moved first. She doesn’t know who touched first, who kissed first. But suddenly Willow is leaning down, her hands cupping Kris’ cheeks, and she finally gets to feel Kris burn her fingerprints into Willow’s back. She sighs, deepening the kiss, trying to convince herself that this isn’t the best dream of her life.
“Wanted to do that for so long,” Kris says, pulling back. She looks up at Willow with stars in her eyes. “I thought I’d missed my chance.”
Willow shakes her head. “Not at all.” She leans in and kisses Kris again, gentle. “So, um. Neither of us are sleeping in the chair, right?”
Kris grins. “That makes it sound like you want to sleep together, Willow.”
Willow rolls her eyes. “Okay, you obviously know that’s what the goal is.”
“Are you asking for something else?” Kris murmurs. She reaches up and tucks a curl behind Willow’s ear. “More than sleeping, perhaps?”
“More than – oh.” Willow can hear her heart pounding in her ears. “You – you want to?”
Kris presses her lips together. “I really, really do. If you do.”
Willow leans in, keeping the kiss careful and simple. “Yes,” she whispers against Kris’ lips.
Kris arms reach up and wrap around Willow’s back, then hands slide down her sides to her thighs. Kris yanks her into her lap, and Willow’s momentum is enough to flatten both to the bed.
Willow giggles. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Kris says, grinning up at her. She brushes some of Willow’s hair out of her face again. “Your hair smells good.”
“It does?” Willow asks. “I feel like I smell like airplane.”
Kris shakes her head and settles her hands on Willow’s thighs, and Willow begins to wish she had worn leggings, tights, nothing, anything that would make Kris’ touch more apparent. “Come here.” She slides her hand up to the waistband of Willow’s joggers. “Your skin is so soft,” she says. “I…” She trails off, fingertips now up to the hem of Willow’s tee shirt? “Can I?”
Willow nods and leans back on her legs. Kris shuffles up the bed, leaning up against the headboard, her eyes hungry as Willow pulls her shirt off over her head.
“You’re – how are you real?” Kris says with a smile. “Like, okay, I know, but here, with me, you don’t feel possible.”
“Oh,” Willow teases, “Am I your manic pixie dream girl or whatever?”
“No,” Kris says. “You are so much more real than that. That’s what it is.” She settles her hands on Willow’s hips, fingertips tracing patterns into Willow’s skin. “It doesn’t feel possible that you’re here with me.”
“I am,” Willow promises. She straddles Kris’ hips, the fabric of her joggers swishing across Kris’ jeans and sparking immeasurable heat.
Kris pushes up to catch Willow’s lips, then pulls her down on top of herself. Willow’s bare skin touches the metal zipper of Kris’ hoodie and she gasps.
“You okay?” Kris asks.
Willow nods. “Just – your zipper is cold, that’s it.”
Kris’ face breaks into a smile. “Well, I figure that’s easy to fix.” She shifts to unzip the hoodie and throw it away, and Willow’s brain freezes.
“I’ve seen you in a bra thing, like, weekly for years,” Willow says. “Why is this – right now – I can’t.” She exhales slowly. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”
“I got a hoodie,” Kris says, grinning. “I don’t need a shirt.”
“You’re very smug even though you’re underneath me,” Willow quips. She leans down to kiss along Kris’ jaw. “You know you’re hot. Now you’re just rubbing it in.”
Kris laughs. “There’s a joke I could make, but I think you’d be annoyed.”
“A rubbing it in joke sounds like something Chuck would say,” Willow laughs. “You’ve been hanging out with them too much.”
“I can hang out with you more,” Kris says, and the way her hands dance across Willow’s bare back is distracting. “As much as you want.”
Willow leans in to kiss Kris again and feels a thrill through every part of her body as Kris rolls them over.
“Can I…?” Kris asks, her hands curled around the waistband of Willow’s joggers. Willow’s a little lightheaded, with Kris between her legs, but she manages to answer.
“Yes,” she says, lifting her hips. She’s briefly cold, but Kris leans back in and Willow’s warmed again. “Your pants, too,” Willow insists. Her fingers fumble for the button and Kris shoves them down her hips, and before she can stop herself she runs her fingertips across the soft cotton of the waistband. She giggles. “Bright green?”
“I didn’t expect to have sex tonight,” Kris replies, diving down to mouth at Willow through her bra. Willow whimpers. “Cut me some slack.”
“I say that because – look,” Willow shifts so the light falls better on her.
“I didn’t expect to have sex tonight, either,” Willow says. “But, while we’re here.” She pulls off her panties and the bra, chucking them somewhere in the room. “That’s better.”
Kris falls back so she’s kneeling, and stares at Willow.
“You okay?” Willow asks, pushing herself on her elbows. She fights the insecurity telling her to cover herself up.
“Just – wow,” Kris murmurs. “I ever tell you I had a crush on you since the indies?” She crawls up Willow’s body, pressing kisses to every inch of skin she can find. Willow loses steadiness and drops to the mattress, determined to feel. “I saw you – like, yeah, you’re beautiful, but you’re so talented.” She dips her mouth down to kiss Willow thoroughly, intently, and Willow begins to wonder if she can transition these tongue skills elsewhere. Her fingertips stroke the skin of Willow’s breasts, thumb rubbing over a nipple so Willow gasps. “Can I go down on you?”
Willow lets out a squeak she can’t even figure out the origin of. “Is that a question? Yeah, oh my god.”
Kris pushes herself down so she’s settled in the V of Willows thighs, grinning up at her. “Cool. What do you like?”
Willow blinks. “What do I – orgasms?”
“Yeah, but like,” Kris leans down, eyes still locked on Willow as she licks between Willow’s folds. Willow whimpers. “What do you like to get there?”
“Um, that, obviously,” Willow giggles. “But, also, um fingers?” She feels Kris run her fingers across her damp heat. “Like that,” Willow says. She leans back on the bed, angling her hips up so Kris has better access.
“Okay, tell me if there’s anything that, like, really gets you,” Kris says, mouthing at the inside of Willow’s thighs. “And if there’s anything you don’t like.”
“Pretty sure I’m going to like anything you go for,” Willow says. She’s not panting, not yet, but she knows herself well to know that it’s on its way.
Kris dives in, tongue tracing patterns against Willow like she was built to do this. Willow fists her fingertips in the sheets. “More,” she finds herself saying. “I – please?”
She can feel Kris laugh against her, the vibrations making her twitch, and Kris does as she was asked. Her mouth and fingers work together, strumming Willow like a guitar, and it’s all Willow can do not to arch and press into Kris’ face. When Kris pulls away, she frowns.
“You can, like…” Kris trails off. “Look, like this.” She dives back in and yanks Willow against her face. The sensation is too much for Willow to avoid – she grinds her hips against Kris’ mouth, and thinks she can feel Kris smile.
She claws at the comforter, twisting and pulling fabric. “Kris,” she warns. “Kris, don’t stop.” Kris doesn’t. It goes on forever, tiny, cresting waves of bliss. Willow thinks she could live in these moments.
She whimpers, shifting her hips again. “I need – I’m almost,” she pants. “Kris.” With a crook of Kris’ finger, it hits her. Willow rides the wave along with Kris’ face, and she’s pretty sure her nails have made holes in the blanket. Kris pulls away with little kisses to the insides of Willow’s thighs and then props herself on her elbows. She grins as she wipes the corners of her mouth.
“You taste amazing,” she says, and she slides up Willow’s body. “Want a taste?”
Willow swallows and nods, and Kris leans down with a deep kiss. Willow’s whole body shivers as she clutches as Kris’ body.
“Too many clothes,” Willow murmurs. She reaches behind to unsnap Kris’ bra, then shuffles down to take a nipple in her mouth. Kris gasps.
“Fuck,” Kris moans. “Willow, oh my god.”
Willow reaches between Kris’ legs to find her wet, dripping at her center. “Can’t resist,” Willow says. She flips them, pressing Kris to the mattress as she slides her finger inside of Kris. “God, you’re so wet.”
“Only ‘cause of you,” Kris says, closing her eyes. “God, that feels so good.”
Willow adds another finger, crooking them, and Kris’ hips buck so wildly Willow almost loses her position. “Good?” Willow giggles.
“Great,” Kris says. “I, oh my god.”
Willow chuckles and slides down in between Kris’ legs, gently pushing her thighs apart with her shoulders. Kris’ moan is transcendent. “Yeah?” Willow asks. “Just you wait.”
Willow has many talents. She’s an artist, a wrestler, sure. But she’s got a secret talent of tongue, and she’s determined to make sure Kris experiences it.
She dives in and circles Kris’ clit with her tongue, earning gasps and whimpers she’ll be replaying at night for the rest of her life. She makes sure to match the way she laps at Kris with the way she strokes inside of her, reveling in every clench and sound and squirm of Kris’ legs.
“You’re – oh my god,” Kris mutters. She scrabbles down the comforter and grabs Willow’s hand, fingertips biting into Willow’s skin.
Willow grips back, a quick squeeze, a promise. She’ll get Kris there. She knows it.
She doubles down on her efforts, Kris’ hand in hers an anchor, and Willow can feel Kris tensing up.
“I’m gonna – Wills, I’m gonna –”
Willow flicks her tongue, and that’s it. Kris comes wordless but still loud, more of a shout than anything else, and Willow tastes victory coating her tongue. She pulls away slowly, not wanting to shock Kris, and sits down on the bed as she gently pats Kris’ thighs.
“You’re a wizard,” Kris says, turning a stunning smile over toward Willow. “That – usually it takes me forever.” The pink across her cheeks gets darker. “Usually I get in my head.”
Willow snickers. “There’s a very funny sex joke I would make, if I had my head back on straight.” She curls up on the bed next to Kris. “So. That happened.”
“It did,” Kris says. She wraps an arm around Willow’s shoulders. “Finally. I was beginning to think I’d missed my chance.”
“You didn’t,” Willow promises. She pushes up on her elbows. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Kris says, and they fall together.
The evening is quiet, random old sitcoms on the hotel television while they trade taking showers and getting dressed. It feels comfortable. It feels domestic. Willow doesn’t want to hope too hard, but it also feels like an easy pattern to fall into.
Kris yawns sometime around 11:30, curling up in a tiny ball on her side. “Come cuddle?” she asks.
Willow nods and curls up next to her, only for Kris to turn over and scoot back against Willow. “You’re the little spoon,” Willow notes. “Somehow, that surprises me.”
“Get used to surprises,” Kris murmurs, voice weighed down with the promise of sleep, “I’m full of ‘em.”
~
It’s not weird in the morning. It’s not weird when they walk to down to the lobby, when they get breakfast, when they wrinkle their noses at the coffee and take Willow’s rental to grab Starbucks. They don’t hold hands, not quite, but they bump fingertips and link pinkies. Willow can’t stop looking at Kris, the whole morning, and she can feel Kris’ eyes on her in the brief moments Willow can look away.
She expects to feel nervous at the venue. The only thing she finds disconcerting is the possibility of Julia.
“I think I might have to kill her,” Kris says casually, stabbing her fork into her salad. “I mean, sure, her magic weirdness got us together, but she messed with our phones.” She shoves the forkful of chicken and vegetables in her mouth, managing to look both annoyed and adorable while chewing.
Willow pokes at her own salad, a concoction Kris swears is the best thing Willow will ever taste, but Willow disagreed and said she’d had that the night before. “Yeah,” she says carefully. “Maybe…I want to talk to her.” She shoves the salad in her mouth. Kris was right – it is great. She’ll have to figure out what magic is made with the cranberries and the dressing. She nods. “I’m going to find her after lunch.”
“I think that’s a death wish, baby,” Kris says casually, and Willow’s entire chest swells with something she doesn’t have a name for yet. “How do we know she won’t curse us again?”
Willow shrugs. “We don’t, but she might be less likely to do it if we call her out.” She gestures with her fork. “Think of it this way: if we stop her now, then she won’t mess with anybody else.” She pokes the air. “Net positive.”
“I think we’re already in a net positive,” Kris says, and her grin sends that swell through Willow again.
They finish eating, conversation turning far less spoony, and make their way toward the locker room together.
Only to see a very small, very black, and very angry figure in the hallway staring at them.
“Perfect,” Willow says. “The opportunity presents itself.”
“What did you do?!” Julia asks, glaring. She looks between Willow and Kris, at the way the backs of their hands bump. “Why is – what is this?”
Kris and Willow look at each other, then back at Julia. “Oh, you expected something else to happen?” Willow asks. “Your weird little magic tricks don’t always work, Jules.”
“Don’t call me that,” Julia snarls.
“Fine, Julia,” Kris says. She folds her arms across her chest. “What did you think would happen, forcing us together? Did you think we wouldn’t talk?”
Julia’s quiet enough, fuming enough, that Willow can put together the dots. She stares at Willow, murder in her eyes, but Willow doesn’t look away.
Julia steps toward Willow and Kris slides in between them.
“Not today,” Kris says, and her voice is so commanding that Willow is jettisoned back to the night before. “Walk away.”
Julia growls, literally growls, then turns and walks away.
“You okay?” Kris asks, searching Willow’s face.
“What? Yeah. Definitely.” Willow takes a deep breath. “Do we have time before you have to be a gorilla? I have a thing we could do.”
Kris throws her head back and laughs, and Willow thinks she could make a hobby out of listening to the sound.
~
Half an hour later, as they giggle over each other leaving a broom closet, Willow catches a glimpse of someone very interesting down the hallway.
“Oh,” says Willow. “Oh, I’m gonna tell on her.”
“What?” Kris asks. “What are you talking about?”
“Julia,” Willow says, striding toward Malakai. “I’m going to tell her weird magic dad guy that she was using magic on us. Fool proof.”
“I don’t think this is a good –”
Willow steps in front of Malakai. “Hello.”
Malakai stops, his expression blank. “Willow,” he says, neutral tone. “Is there something you need?”
“I need,” she says as firmly as she can. She reaches back and grips Kris’ hand, and it steadies her. “I need you to tell Julia to stop messing with people.” She presses her lips together. “And – and that it’s really shitty of her to interfere with hotel bookings and text messages. I’m sure there’s some sort of legal recourse that could be taken, but I’m above that.” She nods. “Is that enough detail?”
Malakai frowns. “Julia has been interfering?” he asks. He reminds Willow of one of her high school teachers, when the kids were caught vaping in the bathroom. “Thank you for that information, Willow. It won’t happen again.”
Willow stares in confusion as Malakai walks away. “Did that just happen?” Willow asks, turning to Kris. “That was weird, right? Why didn’t he curse me or something?”
Kris pulls Willow in closer, a protective arm around her waist. “Not sure.” She holds Willow in tight, and it feels like home. “But it’s definitely weird.”
~
“We need to go check on Eddie and Ricky,” Julia says, grabbing Brody’s arm. “My magic backfired on Willow and Kris. I need to make sure it didn’t break those two up.”
“It’s weird that you’re so invested,” Brody muses, but Julia doesn’t really care. They stomp into catering and see Eddie and Ricky cuddling. Julia relaxes.
“It’s fine,” Julia says. “My powers aren’t broken.” She nods, squeezing Brody’s hand. “See? They’re back to being sweet together again.” She grins. “Let’s go talk to them.”
“Are you sure?” Brody asks. “Maybe we should lay low for a while.” Julia’s not used to him being hesitant when she gives him an idea. “I feel like something is…off.” He twitches his fingers, a little blue energy popping out of the tips, spinning, and daring back in. “Malakai’s unhappy.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Julia says. She grabs Malakai’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go say hi to Ricky and Eddie.”
Brody looks hesitant about it, but he goes with. She smiles. Always a good boy.
Kris needs to know the name of the cute girl who keeps coming in to the coffee shop. She also might be in love with the girl.
~
Bingo square G1, consider yourself bonked! Title from Cut to the Feeling by Carly Rae Jepsen, because yes.
~
Kris stares at the door so hard she thinks her eyes are drying out, willing the pretty girl to come into the coffee shop. If she blinks, she could miss her.
“Hey.”
Kris jumps about a foot. “Chuck! Jesus. When did you get here?!”
Chuck stares at her. “Like, twenty minutes ago. You said hi to me when I walked in.”
On review, Kris realizes he’s right. “Oh. I knew that.”
He grins at her. “Sure you did. Still waiting for the pretty girl?”
“Shut up,” Kris says, feeling her face flush pink.
“That’s a yes,” Chuck laughs. “Just ask her out, my god.”
“I can’t!” Kris says. “I don’t even know her name. I can’t ask her out if I don’t know her name.”
Chuck blinks, wiping out the blender. “Why not?”
Kris can’t explain why, exactly, just that she can’t because there are rules. “I have to learn her name first. So I can write my phone number on the cup and be all cute about it.”
“That feels like one of those rules you made for yourself that don’t exist anywhere else,” and damn if Chuck isn’t right. Just because they’re her rules, though, doesn’t make them pretend. She has to follow them. “I feel like she wants you to ask for her number.”
“Then why doesn’t she ask for mine?” Kris realizes, belatedly, that Chuck’s cleaned, like, three blenders and she’s been standing here panicking for five minutes, so she arranges the mugs and cups so they’re more easily accessible. Well, for her. Trent always complains that they’re in the wrong order of size, but he’s not working today and he is also always wrong.
“Because you’re at work, and asking for somebody’s number at work is usually considered creepy.” Chuck throws the towel over his shoulder. She always appreciates that Chuck explains it so nicely – other managers haven’t been so kind.
“Even if that person is very clearly in love with the customer?” Kris sighs, slumping onto the counter. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it again.”
“Rad,” Chuck says, laughing lightly. “Look, Kris, you’ll have to make the move. I can tell she’s a good enough person that she’s not going to hit on you while you’re on the clock.”
“Even if I want her to?” Kris mumbles, face still pressed to the cool counter.
Something drops on her back, and her only possible guess is a towel she’s going to have to use to wipe down the counter. “Even if you want her to.”
~
“I keep missing her name!” Kris wails, watching the girl walk out of the shop. “You two keep sniping her before I can take her order!”
“You were in the literal dishwasher, Kris,” Chuck says, snapping a towel in the air. “We weren’t going to be able to get you, you know. Out of there. Without a scene.”
Kris huffs. “This is so mean. The universe hates me.”
“I think the universe is too busy spawning chaotic children, designed to create an ouroboros to consume itself into oblivion, to worry about your coffee girlfriend, Kristofer,” Dan says. He’s shoved his face literally inside of a bowl of coffee beans, which somehow isn’t the weirdest thing about him in the moment.
“I – sure?” Chuck says, tossing a, “Do you understand this guy?” look to Kris over Dan’s shoulder.
“I can feel you talking about me,” Dan says. “And it’s Danhausen, not Dan. Be nice about my name.”
“You got my name wrong!” Kris yells, arms going in the air.
“Sorry, Kristin,” he clarifies.
Kris blinks. “How – how did you know my full name is Kristin?”
“I know all things,” Danhausen responds, and he darts off to the back.
“Hope he’s not chugging the chocolate sauce back there,” Chuck says, frowning. “Corporate is weird about the chocolate sauce.”
“They are?” Kris asks.
Chuck nods, eyes watching something with a little smile on his face, something no one else can see. “Yeah. Me and Orange got in trouble. Worth it, though.”
Kris is desperately in need of not knowing anything more about that detail, and throws herself into cleaning the coffee mugs.
~
The next day, Kris is ready. She friendshiply bullied Orange into taking the morning shift, because that’s how you do things in this place, and walks in at 10:02 in the morning to see Chuck glaring at her.
“You look chipper,” he grumbles. “I’ve been here since five.”
Kris shrugs, adjusting her apron and then her hair. “I have somebody to woo.”
“Woo fuckin’ hoo,” Chuck says.
“Exactly. Now if you don’t tell me exactly the second the girl walks into the coffee shop, you will die and no one will find the body.”
“That’s the spirit!” yells Danhausen from the back room. She jumps. She shouldn’t, at this point. But she does.
She’s – well, not short with customers, exactly, but she’s not quite as good at the peopleing thing today as she usually is. She tells a younger guy to “hurry up and choose” when he waffles on which sandwich to add to his mocha latte. She snaps at a teenage girl to “just pick the caramel!” when she spent half a minute on deciding whether or not to add an extra caramel shot. Chuck shoots her a couple of looks, but doesn’t interfere. She’s thankful for that.
“Do you – go to the bathroom, Jesus,” Chuck says, staring at her incredulously. She hadn’t realized she was doing her gotta-pee dance so obviously. “We can tell, Kris. You’ve worked here two years.”
“I’m fine!” she snaps. “I’m – I’m fine. I don’t need to go.”
“You can literally burst your bladder,” Chuck says. “Please don’t make me explain a pee emergency to paramedics.”
Kris opens her mouth to argue, because what if she misses the pretty girl and her whole plan falls apart, but she stops when she realizes she will literally pee all over herself if she uncrosses her legs.
“Right,” she says. “You yell if she shows up.”
“I will,” Chuck hollers.
“As will I,” Danhausen adds, and Kris wishes he hadn’t been listening.
It’s the fastest pee of her life and she trips over her sneakers as she walks out of the bathroom, her apron flopping in front of her and flying in front of her face.
“Oh, my god!” comes a girl’s voice. “Are you okay?”
Kris looks up to see the face of an angel, a face she’s been dying to see for more than a moment and speak to for weeks, peering down at her with concern.
“Here,” she says, dropping to her knees. “Are you hurt? Do you need help up?”
Kris tries not to short circuit at the warmth of the girl’s arms around her shoulders. She’s about to ask the girl’s name, and maybe for her hand in marriage, when disaster strikes.
“Incident report,” says Danhausen, stomping up to her. He slides his arms under her armpits and hauls her to her feet. “We have to follow the protocol.”
“Not – Danhausen, not now!”
“It is always the time for protocol,” Danhausen says, and he’s disturbingly strong as he yanks her to the back.
The pretty girl frowns. “I hope you’re alright!”
By the time Kris gets out of Danhausen’s grip, the pretty girl is long gone.
“No!” she whines, slumping against the wall. “She’s gone.”
“Oh, yeah,” Chuck says, sympathetic. “Sorry about that. I tried to stop her, see what she wanted, but she said she wasn’t in the mood for coffee anymore.”
Kris exhales so hard she almost falls over. “I missed my chance,” she murmurs. “She’ll forever be the one that got away. All because I tripped over my dumb apron.”
“Now, now, Kristin, that’s not true.”
Kris looks up to see Danhausen hesitating on patting her shoulder, settling for a weird little move in the air. “Really?”
“Of course,” he says. “You tripped over your sneakers.”
Kris deflates again. Chucks slaps his own forehead.
~
She’s miserable the whole day, goes home to be miserable around her cat and her roommate Julia who glares at her slightly less than usual which is more disturbing than it should be, and lets the misery sink in.
Julia knocks on the door around eight.
“I know you’re miserable or whatever, but I’m getting DoorDash Taco Bell and I wanted to see if you wanted any. On me.”
Kris lifts her head up. “Really?”
“Don’t read this wrong,” Julia syays, holding up a hand. “I’ll still sue you and ruin your life if you’re late on the rent. We’re not friends. But you seem like you had a shitty day and it’s fucking with my energy. So, Taco Bell.”
Kris still smiles at her. “Crunchwrap and a Baja Blast. And, um. The cinnamon twist things.”
Julia cracks the tiniest smile. It’s the first one Kris has seen not involving Julia staring at the screen of a murder scene and figuring out the culprit.
They eat Taco Bell and watch some murder documentary that Julia insists isn’t too bloody because she did the research for it.
“I made sure the family had input and they cleared this,” Julia says, halfway through a massive bite of a Gordita Crunch.
Kris wrinkles her nose as she sees the artist’s rendition of the murder scene. “Well this is. I guess as long as the family said it’s okay.”
~
The next morning is less painful than Kris would have expected, for the morning of “after.” Julia’s put her used coffee mug in the sink, which makes Kris wonder just how terrible she looked and seemed last night.
She dresses and does her makeup, just for the sake of habit, and glumly makes her way into the coffee shop.
“Hye guys,” she sighs.
“Hey,” Chuck says, with a gentle smile. “Wait here.”
“Where are you – ”
“Wait here,” Chuck repeats, and he goes into the back room. An irrational, silly part of her, the one that still believes in fairy tales, hopes that he’s going back there to bring out the pretty girl who came to see her.
He doesn’t. Chuck comes out with Danhausen.
“Come on,” Chuck says, nudging Danhausen with his elbow.
“Danhausen is sorry for ruining your moment with that girl with the pretty hair,” Danhausen says, refusing to meet Kris’ eyes.
“It’s fine,” she sighs. “I was getting too excited about a long shot, anyway.”
Chuck’s face changes. “Kris.”
“What?” Kris asks. “I need to focus on the coffee right?”
“Turn around, Kris,” Danhausen says, and his smile is slightly less disconcerting than usual.
Kris turns around, feeling as if her all her efforts are a loss, and her heart nearly stops. “Oh,” she breathes. “Hi.”
“Hi,” says the pretty girl, smile nearly paralyzing. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?”
“Last time, you fell,” the girl says. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine!” Kris says. She can hear Danhausen and Chuck step away. The girl is the only one in the area, and it feels like forever before she can speak again. “Yeah, I’m totally fine.”
The girl’s smile grows. “So, I would like a caramel macchiato for Willow.”
Willow.
Kris thinks she should be feeling either way more crazy about this or way less, but she nods. “Of course, Willow.” The name tastes sweet on her tongue.
She marks up the cup and feels like she’s spinning as she makes the coffee, glancing up every few seconds to make sure Willow is still there, is still watching.
She is, with a lovely smile and the prettiest eyes Kris has ever seen.
Danhausen bustles in to start a coffee for the person who showed up a minute or two after Willow. “She’s quite magical,” he says, hand on metal far too hot to manage without flinching. He remains steady.
“Magical?”
He nods. “You feel it, don’t you.”
Kris thinks so. But he doesn’t know that she already feels like magic around Willow.
Kris drops off the coffee at the counter, and fixes the girl with what she hopes is a cute and flirty look.
She walks over and frowns at the cup. Kris worries she’s about to explode. “Is this…for me?”
“Of course it is,” Kris says. She tries to fix her smile: not too big, not too small, no crazy eyes. She can do that. “See?”
The girl smiles. “You wrote ‘window.’”
“I did not!” Kris grabs the coffee back and looks at it. “Oh my god. I did.”
“That’s okay,” Willow laughs. “Can I have my drink back?”
“Can I give you my number?” Kris blurts out.
Willow – god, what a pretty name, Kris is in love – blinks for just enough time to make Kris want to run away into the forest. “Really?”
“Of course,” Kris says. “I mean, I’ve only been trying to figure out a normal not weird way to ask you out on the job.”
“It’s not weird.” Willow bites her lip, and Kris’ brain explodes. “Um, when do you get off?”
“A while,” Kris says, wondering if quitting on the spot and asking for the job back tomorrow would be allowable.
“That’s okay,” Willow says. “I’ll wait for a lull.” Willow’s smile almost takes Kris out at the knees. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Kris,” she says, feeling like sunshine.
“Kris,” Willow says, and Kris might supernova at this rate. “Okay. I’ll be right over there. I can work from here until you get a break.”
Kris nods, unable to stop smiling as she fills the orders of the morning rush. When the flow of people has died down and the sun is streaming in above the trees to sparkle in Willow’s hair, Kris finds the confidence to take an early lunch break and walk over to Willow.
“Hi,” she says. “I’m Kris.”
Willow smiles at her. “Hi, Kris.” She sticks out her hand. The touch is like electricity. “I’m Willow.”
“Would you, um,” Kris says. “Can I sit?”
“Of course!”
Kris takes a deep breath, tries to quell her shaking fingertips. “Would you want to go on a – to the movies with me? Or dinner?” She fights the urge to keep talking. She doesn’t need to convince her. She needs to wait.
Willow’s face brightens, somehow, even more. Kris wants to memorize it. “I would love to. Are you busy tonight?”
“I don’t think so,” Kris says, and her heart is beating so quickly she can hear it. “I – let me get your number.”
Their hands brush a few times as they trade phones to input numbers. Kris is already addicted to it. “Okay,” Willow says. “I’ll text you when I get home from the office. I’m thinking you could pick me up around seven.”
Kris nods, and makes a mental note to clean out her car right after work. “I’ll see you then.” She sees the door swing open. It looks like an entire baseball team and their mothers are making their ways in. “Oh, crap.”
“Go,” Willow says, resting her hand on top of Kris’. “You have my number. And I have yours. I’ll text you my address in a few.” The way she drags her fingertips along the top of Kris’ hand is enough to create a supernova in her soul. “See you tonight, Kris.”
At the very least, Chuck waits for the door to swing shut before he whoops and cheers. “It finally happened!” he yells, startling a mom on her phone with an iron grip on her middle school son. “Kris got the girl!”
Kris blushes. “Yeah,” she says, feeling like stars, “I did.”
~
Mini Playlist:
Everytime We Touch (Yanou's Remix) - Cascada
You Found Me - Kelly Clarkson
Love Like This - The Summer Set
Cut to the Feeling - Carly Rae Jepsen
