Now we are here
Ok, so... sorry I’m late, I had to change some things in this OS, and forgot to do it yesterday. Hehe. This, in particular, was an idea for an AU I had long ago, but never got to write it down, so used the ficweek as an excuse. @from-red-string and @silveranchor, my figure skating squad... this is special for you.
Word count: 3.8k
DAY 2 – “You’ve locked yourself outside of your apartment and there’s a storm rolling in and I pity you so I’ll let you into mine”
Luna looked at the closed door in front of her, and cursed under her breath. It has been just a second, the blink of an eye, and now she was locked outside of her flat only wearing her pajamas.
The turn of events for her to get into the current situation was quite interesting to be omitted.
That day she had a training session with Juliana, they needed to work on her new short program, mostly on her landings, but it got called off as her trainer had some urgent reunion with some delegates of the International Skate Union that came to Buenos Aires to talk with her without prior notice.
She could have gone to the rink anyway, practice by herself, or maybe chat with some of her friends. Taking a look at Simon and Ambar’s training session would be nice too, as her best friend always appreciated her feedback about his step sequences, but she didn’t want to have any other discussion with her cousin about not getting involved when it’s their program, not hers, and… anyway, she had a lot to study.
Studying a mayor was her parents’ condition for them to let her become a professional figure skater. Her education was always their main concern. For that reason, she signed up at the online university, and have been trying to keep up with the assignments in between her training sessions and competitions all around the world. Lucky for her, her roommate and best friend is the smartest person she has ever met, and is always happy to give her a hand.
After sending her weekly assignments hunger hit her hard, even making her guts roar, so she changed into her comfiest pajamas, turned the TV on, and opened Netflix. The plan was to get some of the food her mother made sure she took with her after their weekly family dinner, unfroze it, and eat it on the couch while re-watching as many Brooklyn 99 chapters as possible. It’s not like she could go to any fast food restaurant, anyway, it was raining so heavily she was beginning to think that the sky was falling down.
Besides, her best friend would arrive home in a couple hours, and she is sure they both could enjoy together of a good marathon of Andy Samberg’s awesomeness.
Her plans went down the drain when, as soon as she opened the freezer to get the food, the interphone rang. It was the mailman with a box for her best friend and, in her eagerness of not making him wait there under the rain, she went down to the entrance of the building without minding changing clothes, or taking the keys with her. She trusted her neighbors enough to leave the door wide open, no one there would rob her. What she didn’t count on was that she had also left an open window, through which a gust of wind came in, closing the door, leaving her locked outside.
She tried to open it several times, but she lost her faith after a while, standing there plain watching the wood and feeling like the most stupid person on planet earth. She didn’t even take her phone with her. If she had, she would have called Nina, to ask her to hurry to get there.
Desperation took over her, making her try to think in any possible solution for her problem, but as time passed by it was obvious there was nothing she could do. She didn’t know how to force locks open, and she wasn’t as strong as to take the door down. Neither did she want to do such thing. She lived in a fifth floor, and there was a storm outside, so only an idiot would consider the option to climb the building to enter through one of the windows.
She was already sitting on the floor, with her back against the wall next to her door, when her neighbor’s door opened.
She jumped.
“Luna?” She froze. From all the people who lived in that building, HE had to be the one to see her in this situation. Just her luck. She slowly turned around, her cheeks burning, as she saw him standing there. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything’s perfect,” she answered, sarcastically. “I’m just here, chillin’ at the hallway, enjoying the amazing architecture of this very picturesque building.” She pointed at her apartment’s door. “I mean, who would want to be in there, with couches, beds, TVs, food… when you have this amazing carpet that I believe no one has ever washed?” she touched said floor covering, making a grimace when she pushed away some fluff of dirt.
He frowned.
“What happened?” he asked, and she gave up with a sight.
“The door closed,” she admitted. He stayed silent for a couple of seconds, then looked at her door, before going back at her. A chuckle came out from his lips. “Don’t laugh, Matteo! This is serious!” She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.
He shook his head, still laughing.
“Dear God, Chica Delivery,” he scolded her. “I told you a thousand times to always have your keys with you, even if you are just going to get something from the lobby. But, of course, you’d never hear me.” He offered her a hand so she would stand from the dirty floor, but she rejected it, and instead stuck out her tongue at him.
“Thanks for the sermon I didn’t ask for, Chico Fresa,” she replied, shamefully looking away, not only because he was right with his words, but because he was looking too good for her own wellbeing.
It’s just… how can he look so good no matter what he’s wearing? Usually, it’s those perfectly tailored shirts he wears with those ridiculously suitable vests that should be prohibit merely for the fact they make her mind go to dangerous grounds. But now, he wasn’t wearing any of these, just a pair of dark jeans, a white shirt, and an incipient beard that said he either had forgotten to shave for a couple of days, or was considering a more adult look.
How would it feel to touch it?
She had to push that thought away from her mind, as far as possible, because her neighbor is on the list of guys she could never have anything with.
In fact, he tops that list.
There are many reasons for said forbiddance: his «I’m better than everyone around» attitude is one of those, but the one that makes it completely impossible, to the point she shouldn’t even been there talking with him, was the fact he used to be her cousin’s boyfriend (and skating partner, if the latest isn’t enough of a reason) until he decided to retire from professional figure skating, and she broke up with him. Ambar hated him to the point she was sure the blonde had a dartboard with his face in her room, and she have already had enough drama in the past with said girl, to be sure she didn’t want to add more coal to the fire.
Besides, he was a flirt, so there would be no way they could get along.
He smiled down at her. “Ok then, if I can’t give you sermons, let me ask you something.” He seemed to be enjoying himself.
Such a jerk.
“When is your roommate coming?” he asked, and she answered with a shrug. “So… you're really considering to wait for her sitting there?” she shrugged again.
“What else can I do?” she replied, and he sighed.
“Well, you could come into my apartment. I have a comfy couch, where you can wait, and I can make dinner,” he offers. “I won’t let you stay at the hallway, much less dressed like that.” She looked down at her pajamas and covered herself with her arms. It didn’t do much, though, but that’s all she could do.
The idea of going inside Matteo’s apartment made her heart skip a beat.
“You know, you could do something more helpful. Like, for example, helping me to open this stupid door,” she replied, finally standing from the floor, trying to look as casual as possible.
He smirked. “Contrary to what you seem to believe about my whereabouts, Cucciola, I have no idea how to break into other people’s houses,” he said. “So letting you wait your friend inside my apartment is all I can do.” He shrugged.
The Mexican took a deep breath.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she said, and he rolled his eyes.
“Oh, come on! Are you really that stubborn to say no?” he snapped. “You really prefer to stay in the hallway, sitting in that filthy carpet, instead of accepting my offer?” he took a deep breath to calm himself, and looked away.
She had to admit he had a point.
---
His apartment was very much like she had imagined it would be: fancy and extremely organized. The living room didn’t have many pieces of furniture, just a couch, a big TV, and a couple of shelves, being the latter the ones that caught her attention, as they were filled with so many skating medals and trophies she felt her jaw dropping.
Luna walked towards them to take a closest look, and he looked at her with an amused smile, as he always knew that it would be the first thing she would notice if she ever went inside his place. Next to the medals there were also some photographs, most of them of him showing the medals hanging on his neck, neither of them with Ambar by his side, even if it was skating with her that he won most of those awards.
The hate was mutual.
She smiled when she found the Olympic silver medal, which was displayed next to a picture of him wearing it at the Olympic Games’ ice rink, and a perfect pair of personalized blades that could perfectly cost more than her whole equipment, or her complete scholarship.
Unconsciously, she raised her hand to bring it to the medal, as part of herself wanted to know how it would feel to finally touch the metal. It was her dream to win one of those. Ambar never let her get close enough to hers, keeping it in some kind of glass box in her room, threatening her with cutting her hand off if she messed it up with her fingerprints. That though made her put her hand away, as if there was some kind of force field surrounding it.
“No, it’s ok… you can touch it,” he said, right behind her ear.
She jumped.
When did he get so close?
“No– I mean, I… I just touched a dirty carpet, I don’t want to spoil it,” she stuttered, sneaking off from his side, putting some distance between them. She looked at him, and the soft smile he gave her back took her by surprise.
“As you wish,” he winked, and she had to take a deep breath to put her emotions in order, or she would self-burst. “Anyway, I will make some risotto alla carbonara. Have you tried it?” he asked, as he walked towards the kitchen. She followed him to avoid the temptation of touching the medal, and took a seat next to the counter, looking him as he started getting stuff from the drawers.
“I have no idea what’s that,” she admitted, and he laughed.
“Oh, you are gonna love it.”
---
The empty plate on front of her confirmed his words.
“Why do you have to be so good at everything?” she complained, with her eyes closed, as she enjoyed the last bite of risotto. “Couldn’t you leave any talent for the rest of mortals?” she added, and he laughed, making her entire body tremble.
She loved the sound of his laughter.
He started picking up the plates. “Then you admit I’m talented,” he said, a cocky smile appearing on his lips, and she immediately regretted her own words. His ego was such a problem.
“Oh, shut up,” she said. “I should have known you would get all Fresa mode about it.” She stood and helped him take the things back to the kitchen, and into the dishwasher. He leaned against the counter, silently looking at her with an amused smile.
She would give away anything for a glimpse of his thoughts.
Luna walked back to the living room, and he followed her, keeping a prudent distance between them as she looked again at his awards. She took a frame from the shelf, a very old one, where he was around six or seven years old, and was accompanied with a brunette girl she didn’t recognize. Both of them were smiling, prideful showing their gold medals at the camera, keeping each other in a tight hug.
Some jealousy peeked inside her.
“That’s my cousin,” he explained, sitting at the couch’s armrest. “It was our first gold ever.” She noticed the nostalgia in his voice, so she left the frame back at the shelf, and faced him.
“Why did you leave it? You seemed to love it,” she asked.
That was the question she always wanted to ask him, as when she asked Ámbar, the answer of the blonde was that the Italian was a commitment-less idiot.
He shrugged.
“It was the right moment,” he answered, and she frowned, because it wasn’t the answer she was expecting. He noticed it, and for almost a minute he seemed to be considering if it was worth to trust her with one of his biggest secrets, if she wouldn’t judge him as her cousin did when he told her his decision. “I had already achieved my goal of getting an Olympic medal,” he explained. “I mean, it wasn’t the gold… but, you know, it’s an Olympic medal.” Yes, she knew what he meant. An Olympic medal was her biggest dream, and little did she care whether it was gold, silver or bronze. Although gold would be her highest happiness. “And, well,” he continued. “I have a biggest passion than skating, one I really wanted to explore, but I didn’t have much time for it because of the training sessions and the international competitions, so time was running away for me to follow it.”
“Music,” she said, without hesitation.
She would wake up in the morning to hear him playing the guitar, and far from being bothered about it, she enjoyed every time it happened, even if walls muffled much of the sound.
“Yes, music.” He seemed to be glad she knew that. “First thing I did after retiring was sending demos to several labels, and got myself a contract,” he proudly explained. “I’m working on my first record, composing and helping with the production. Most of the work is being done at a very cool studio the label is paying, but I have made myself a place to compose in here.” He pointed at the hallway that leads to the rooms, and she nodded.
She was glad he was achieving his dreams.
“Do you want to hear something?” he suddenly asked, and she jumped with excitement.
“Yes, yes! I want to hear one of your songs!” she replied, and he looked at her with tenderness, because she was just the cutest.
He pointed at the couch, so she would sit there, and went to get his guitar from his room. She waited for him, feeling nervous and anxious, until he went back and sat on the couch next to her, tuning the instrument.
Was it her mind playing games, or his hands were really trembling?
“I’ve never played this song to anyone,” he confessed, with an apologetic smile. “I don’t know if the label would like to include it on the album, it’s… different from the other songs I have already record.”
She nodded.
He started playing.
Could her jaw be any more dropped? She looked at him in total shock as she heard him playing his song, completely hypnotized by his voice, and by how he seemed to be totally focused on every chord he played on the guitar.
It was like being transported to a different place, a dimension where it’s only the two of them, where she could enjoy these private concerts on his couch anytime she wanted, without any interruption, without any doubt. In this new dimension that song was for her: she was that princess, the one in which he thought day and night, that would give light to his senses, the one he wanted to follow his heart for.
The truth hit her: she had tried to stay away from him, telling herself it was because she didn’t want any conflict with Ámbar, or because she hated his guts. When, in reality, she was just scared of falling for him. But now, seeing him so focused on his music, she figured it out that all her efforts were for nothing.
He finished playing, and for a second there she was too lost in her thoughts to react in any way. He frowned. “You hated it,” he winced, looking hurt.
“No!” she shouted. “I didn’t. I loved it! I’m just… wow, it’s perfect.” She started talking way too fast, and he smiled. “You’re very talented, Matteo. That song is –I don’t know how to describe it. The girl who inspired you to write it must be the luckiest,” she concluded.
He laughed.
“Why do you think I wrote it for someone?”
“The way you play it, the emotions you put in each word.” Luna shrugged. “It’s pretty obvious there’s some girl you would like to call your princess.” And she was jealous of her.
He nodded. “Okay, you’re right. I wrote it for a girl,” he said, and she could feel her own heart breaking. He glanced down at his guitar, playing with the chords without making any sound, as if he was nervous. “But she doesn’t know the song is for her, and is better this way,” he sighed, and then looked back at her.
“Why?” she asked, feeling betrayed by her own mouth. What if it was Ámbar? What if all hate was just him dealing with the pain of losing her, as she was now dating someone else. She felt stupid: of course it was her, who else would it be? He might be hurt because she didn’t understand his dreams, but they were many years together, and love doesn’t fade as fast. “I mean, if you still have feeling for Ámbar, I think she deserves to kn–” he interrupted her.
“Ámbar?” he seemed to be amused and horrified at the same time. “I’m not –“, he shook his head. “I didn’t write it for her. We used to be a couple, yes, but it was never… we were together because that’s what was expected from us,” he sighed, messing his hair. “We cared for each other, of course, we were good friends before starting dating. But the only reason we were still together was because we were the king and the queen of the rink, nothing else.” he shrugged, staring right at her eyes, making her feel as bedazzled.
She swallowed.
“Then, who is it for?” she asked, hating the fact she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“Do you really want to know?” he asked. Was his voice getting deeper? It made her speechless, so she just nodded. “I wrote it for an amazing girl I met a couple years ago,” he spoke, softly. “She was an amazing skater, very promising, and with an unstoppable will to be better every day. Her spirals were impressive, the best I have ever seen, and I could skip spending time with my friends just to watch her training sessions, to see her fly on skates. She impressed me, she still does, even if she has this tendency to crash into me… All. The. Freakin. Time.” She held her breath, and her eyes widened. Was he talking about her? She stayed silent for almost a minute, mouth-opened, staring at his eyes, waiting for the moment he would say he was joking.
That moment never came.
“Matteo,” she finally got to whisper, her cheek turning red, her heart threatening to break free from her ribcage.
He put the guitar away, and got closer.
“Tell me you feel nothing for me,” he pleaded. “Tell me that, and then I will leave you alone. You can pretend I never said anything, go back to treat me as the annoying neighbor you rant about with your friends, or just ignore me, and act as I don’t exist.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that, I would be lying” she said, getting closer, allowing their breaths to become one.
Screw the stupid list, screw everything.
Kiss me, please. It was the last thought that came to her mind before their lips found each other. And then, thinking became unnecessary.
At first, it was just a soft brush between them, like the touch of a feather, which sent shivers all over her body. And then, he took possession of her lips, kissing her as if he had been fantasizing about this for years, making her put her hands behind his neck to avoid falling down, because suddenly she was invaded by a million emotions that were previously unthinkable.
She always thought kissing Matteo would be intense, but this was just… more, it was like feeling every part of herself awake, like getting everything she ever wanted and, at the same time, knowing there was much more coming.
He slowly broke the kiss, keeping their foreheads together.
“Why now?” she demanded to know, when she remembered how to speak.
He looked down at her clothing.
“Maybe, I’m weak for sparkly pajamas,” he answered, making her giggle. “Or perhaps, it was finally the right moment for this as well.” He added, playing with a lock of her hair, and she couldn’t help but kiss him again.
----
With a confused look, Nina entered to her apartment, taking with her a box that had her name written and that she had just picked up from the hallway.
“Luna?” she called her best friend, as she let the keys and the package on the counter, getting no answer.
Weird… the TV was on, so she assumed she would be there.
Maybe Juliana scheduled a last-minute training, and she rushed to meet her, letting everything on. To be honest, it wouldn’t be the first time Luna does that, as she tends to be very clueless most of the time.
With a soft giggle, the girl took something from the fridge and went to sit in front of the TV, starting the chapter of Brooklyn nine-nine that was already selected. She hoped her best friend was having a great time, at least.
