#nerd abby

[creatureeaterr]

um here’s this nerd abby

[vancexplicit]

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָYes, darling

pairing: nerd!abby x obsessed!fem reader

synopsis: abby was perfectly fine with a college life built around classes and the occasional hangout with friends, until everything shifted the moment your eyes met hers. from that second on, you didn’t hold back. you were set on making her your precious possession.

cw: college au, reader is fem presenting, reader is a walking red flag, alcohol, drugs, manipulation, abby being adorable, not proofread

One of the first things Abby picked up when she stepped onto campus for her first day was your name. Right from the start, she heard all kinds of rumors floating around about you. Most weren’t bad. A lot of the people she talked to weren’t exactly in your circle, but somehow, everyone knew who you were. And her classmates would say you weren’t as bad as the rest of your crew.

Having been accepted into one of the most exclusive universities in the country, Abby knew exactly what kind of people she would be forced to deal with for the next few years. The campus was crowded with boys showing off their luxury cars in the parking lot and girls parading around in designer clothes and handbags that cost more than a year of tuition. She knew that getting involved with those kinds of people would always cause trouble, so after listening to her seniors’ advice and following the steps of every other student who didn’t belong in that world, she decided to keep her distance, content to judge them from afar.

And among all those spoiled rich kids, there was your group. And because fate apparently loved to play games with her life, she was now on her way to your house to work on a group project with you and two of your friends. She remembered perfectly the moment when the professor had called her name together with yours. Her heart had started beating so fast that she thought she might have a heart attack right there in the classroom. And when she glanced your way and your eyes met, she could’ve sworn she caught a quick smirk on your lips before you turned back to your friends.

Abby really tried not to feel anything for you. But like the overwhelming majority of the campus, she wasn’t immune to your charms. She didn’t know exactly when it had started, but without realizing it, she had memorized your schedule. In her free time, Abby would watch you from a distance. She saw you interacting with your obnoxious friends, observed you during the few classes you shared, and went to the same coffee shop every day just to catch a glimpse of you before her day began. Still, she never had the courage to actually talk to you, which was why she now found herself a bundle of nerves.

Abby didn’t know what to expect. You seemed far too friendly in the brief messages you two had exchanged. The other girls in the group hadn’t even bothered to check the messages, let alone reply. Abby had suggested working in the library, but you quickly dismissed the idea, saying they needed a more private place where they could really dive into the project. You suggested your house, and before she could protest, you had already sent your address.

She would be lying if she said she hadn’t felt nervous during the entire conversation. She felt a little silly about it, but there was something in the way you worded things that revealed how self-assured you were and how much you expected everyone to follow your lead. For some reason, that only made her feel more drawn to you.

After her entrance was approved, Abby drove through the gates of the mansion, and for an instant her stomach turned. The entrance was imposing, lined with perfectly manicured gardens and an elegant fountain in the center that looked like it belonged in an architecture magazine. Exterior lights illuminated the modern facade, all clean lines and enormous glass windows reflecting the blue sky. The iron gates closed silently behind her as she drove along the long paved driveway, finally parking in a reserved area already filled with luxury cars.

Abby took a deep breath, turned off the engine, and for a moment simply stared at the mansion. It was impossible not to feel small in front of such grandeur. The details of the facade blended modernity with elegance, and everything seemed calculated to impress. She climbed the steps to the entrance and, with a slightly trembling hand, rang the bell.

It wasn’t you who opened the door, but one of the girls from the group. Her smile was brief and devoid of enthusiasm, more formality than welcome. She muttered that Abby had finally arrived, told her to close the door behind her, and to follow. Abby did as she was told, trying to ignore the sting of discomfort that the indifferent reception caused.

The interior of the mansion was even more impressive than the facade. The entry hall opened into a vast space with a crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling and walls decorated with contemporary art. The polished marble floors reflected the soft lighting, and a subtle scent hung in the air, expensive and sophisticated, though Abby couldn’t place it. As they walked through the corridors, she noticed details that spoke of understated luxury: alcoves with sculptures, vases of fresh flowers, fine rugs placed strategically on the floor. It was like walking through the pages of a design magazine.

When they reached the living room, Abby noticed how everything seemed designed to convey perfection. Immaculate white sofas, elegant curtains flowing down to the floor, a modern fireplace lit purely for aesthetics, and a glass coffee table decorated with bottles of whiskey, crystal glasses, and snacks. And there you were, sitting on one of the sofas as if you belonged to the décor itself, your gestures and posture so naturally elegant they seemed rehearsed.

“You finally made it.” you said, your lips curving into a mischievous smile for a fraction of a second before softening into something friendly. The change would have gone unnoticed if Abby hadn’t been paying attention, but the playful gleam in your eyes betrayed that it hadn’t been her imagination. “I thought you’d ditched us.”

Abby swallowed hard as all eyes turned toward her. She lingered by the entrance to the living room, aware of how her simple jeans, basic shirt, and old jacket clashed with the branded clothes and expensive accessories around her. Her glasses only made her feel more out of place. But even as part of her knew she didn’t belong in that world of wealth and confidence, the discomfort felt distant. None of it really mattered, because all her attention was on you. You were the center of everything. You were the reason she was there, the one she wanted to impress more than anything.

“I’m sorry. It was kind of hard to find your house.” Abby’s voice was low and rushed, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her jacket as if that could contain her nerves. She tried not to look away from you, but her heart was pounding so hard it echoed in her ears. The silence that followed seemed endless, and she held her breath, waiting for your response.

You tilted your head slightly, as though analyzing every detail of her. Your gaze slid slowly down her hesitant posture, her plain clothes that contrasted with the luxurious setting, and then back to her face. When it returned, a small smile formed on your lips, and Abby had the strange feeling that she was being measured and, somehow, approved.

“Yeah, my mom likes her privacy.” you answered calmly, crossing one leg over the other and resting an arm casually along the back of the sofa. Your voice was so steady and natural that Abby shrank a little inside, as if her own insecurity had just been laid bare. Yet, at the same time, there was an unexpected warmth in hearing you speak to her directly, a simple detail that made all the discomfort worthwhile.

“Who are you again?” one of your friends asked, frowning at her as he lounged lazily on the sofa.

“Abby Anderson.” you replied before she could, smiling as if her name tasted sweet in your mouth. And even though you were answering your friend, your eyes never left hers. The way your lips moved with each syllable seemed intentional, and Abby almost forgot to breathe, as if hearing her name in your voice was something extraordinary. “Don’t mind him. He’s high.”

“I’m only here for the free food.” he laughed, raising his joint in a mock toast. His laughter echoed through the room, clashing with the uncomfortable silence surrounding Abby.

She tried not to grimace as he took another drag from his joint. The heavy mix of weed and alcohol lingered in the air, oppressive and unpleasant. Abby’s sensitive nose recoiled, but she forced herself to hold a polite, if awkward, smile.

Even if she tried to mask it, her discomfort was clear. But deep down, there was a strange satisfaction in realizing that her eyes still didn’t leave you. You chuckled softly at your friend’s remark and nudged his leg lightly with your own. “Go to the kitchen then.” Your tone was light and playful, but he laughed idiotically again, clearly not grasping the hint.

Abby blinked quickly, trying to process the scene, and for a moment she was struck by the effortless authority in your presence. You hadn’t raised your voice or shown irritation. A command disguised as a joke had been enough for everyone to understand what you meant. The contrast between your calm authority and your carefree smile sent a shiver down Abby’s spine.

Noticing he hadn’t taken the hint, you leaned in slightly, your smile still in place, and nudged his leg again. Your eyes narrowed just a little, and Abby caught the flash of authority hidden behind your charm. “Now.” you said softly, low enough that only he could hear.

The shift was instant. As if suddenly deciphering your expression, he stood quickly, stumbling slightly to the side. Abby’s eyes followed him out of instinct, but all she could really think about was you. The calm steadiness of your voice, the subtlety of your smile, the quiet authority in your every move.

Before leaving the room, he grabbed a bottle of expensive whiskey from the table and staggered off toward the kitchen. Abby let out a barely audible sigh without realizing it. She was nervous, yes, but more than that, she was spellbound. All she could think about was how you seemed to command the room effortlessly, and how badly she wanted to be worthy of your approval.

“Let’s go to the balcony. The weather is far too nice to stay indoors.” you said, rising gracefully. Your tone sounded like a suggestion, but your voice carried the natural authority of someone used to being followed.

“They’re not coming with us?” Abby asked, gesturing subtly toward your friends, who were still glued to their phones. There was caution in her tone, but also genuine curiosity.

You let out a small laugh. “We have a better chance at getting an A if they don’t help with the project.”

Abby raised her brows slightly, surprised at the blunt honesty. You leaned in as if sharing a private joke. “Trust me, it’s a miracle they can even spell their own names.”

One of your friends burst out laughing without looking up from her screen. The other pouted before holding up her phone. “Who cares? I just hit two million followers on Instagram.”

You didn’t hesitate. You reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze like a little reward. “Seriously? That’s awesome! Congrats, babe.”

That was all it took to erase the pout from her lips, her face lighting up with pride at your approval. “Come on, let’s go outside.” you said, and Abby followed without thinking, as if the simple act of going with you was the most natural thing in the world.

On the balcony, the fresh air brought Abby some relief. She breathed deeply and, as she opened her bag to take out her notebook, she no longer felt as nervous. This was her territory, the place where she felt secure: among ideas, notes, and pages filled with her effort.

“I started writing the first part of the project.” she said, her voice now firm, her gaze meeting yours with more confidence. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s one of my favorite subjects.”

You arched a brow, intrigued. “Not at all. Can I read it?”

“Of course.” Abby handed over the pages, her fingers brushing yours lightly as you took the notebook. Inside, her heart still raced, but this time with expectation. She wanted to see your reaction, wanted you to notice that she had value.

As you read, your eyes moved slowly over each line, and Abby studied your expression with rapt attention. The tension in her shoulders began to ease when she saw your brows lift slightly, as though you were genuinely impressed.

“This is really great, Abby.” you said, finally looking up from the page. Your smile was quick, a little crooked, but warm and the spark in your eyes said it wasn’t just you being polite.

A quiet sense of pride rose in her chest. “Really? You don’t think it’s too surface-level? I mean… if you want, we can start fresh.”

You shook your head right away, still clutching the notebook like it was something special. “No way. This is perfect. Honestly, I don’t think I could’ve pulled it off this well.”

Abby smiled back, and this time it wasn’t timid. There was satisfaction there, almost vanity. For the first time that afternoon, she didn’t feel out of place. On the contrary, she felt seen.

You kept the notebook in your hands a moment longer before setting it aside, your eyes never leaving hers. A slow smile curved across your lips. “Let’s work. I should make myself useful now.”

Abby’s heart raced again, but differently this time. It wasn’t nerves; it was the sweet taste of the approval she had longed for.

You both started working on the project. Each focused on her own part, but every so often, you could feel Abby’s gaze on you. Quick, almost shy glances, but insistent, as if she couldn’t help checking to make sure you were still there, close to her. And each time you caught her in the act, Abby quickly looked away, biting her lip and pretending to refocus on her notes.

After a few minutes of productive silence, one of your friends approached. “Are you two done already?”

“No, not yet. But let’s take a break.” you answered, pushing your laptop aside with a tired sigh. You stretched lightly, every movement graceful even in fatigue, before your eyes found Abby’s. “Would you like something to drink? Maybe something to eat?”

Abby blinked in surprise and shifted in her seat. “Maybe just some water.”

You glanced at your friend, who, without needing more than a look from you, immediately understood and disappeared into the house to fetch what you had asked for. Abby watched silently, amazed at how naturally everyone seemed to move around you, as if they orbited you, desperate for your approval.

“You and your friends… you seem close.” Abby said softly, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

“Oh yeah, we’re very close.” you replied, your eyes gleaming as though recalling something. “They’re like my second family.”

What you’d never admit to her was the quiet satisfaction you felt watching people as wealthy as you, so used to being waited on, move around you like they were your own staff.

Abby fell quiet for a moment, letting those words sink in. Her chest tightened in a strange way, a mix of tenderness and longing. She wanted so badly to be part of that world, to be included in that circle of trust that seemed unbreakable. More than that, she wanted to be that person for you, someone you spoke of with the same affection.

“But what about you?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “I bet you have lots of friends.”

Abby let out a soft laugh, not exactly amused, more like a quiet sigh. “I mean, I do have friends… they’re just at a different college.”

“That sucks.” you murmured, and the smile you gave her was gentle, sincere in its sympathy. Your eyes lingered on her face a little longer than necessary, as if searching for something hidden, a crack in her reserve.

She held your gaze, her heart racing at the intensity of the moment. Something in your expression made her believe you were genuinely interested, and that gave her a spark of courage.

“Hey, so…” you started, leaning back in your chair, voice dropping a little like you were sharing a secret. “A friend of mine own this nightclub, and she’s throwing a party there tomorrow. Pretty much everyone’s going. You should come too. Might be a good chance to make some friends… you know, besides me.”

The words were light, but Abby clung to the end of your sentence. Besides me. It was as if, without meaning to, you had placed yourself at the center of her world, acknowledging that you were already too important not to be mentioned. Abby gave a small, shy smile, but beneath it was pride and happiness. Because to her, it wasn’t about the party, the nightclub, or other friends. All that really mattered was you.

The line to enter the club stretched along the sidewalk, full of excited people laughing loudly and talking about the night that was only just beginning. Abby felt a few curious glances as she approached the entrance, but she did not hesitate. The security guard stopped her, asking for her name.

“Anderson. Abby Anderson.”

He checked the list in his hands and quickly stepped aside, motioning for her to go in. Behind her, Abby heard a frustrated murmur from those still waiting in line, but she paid no attention. You had put her name down, and that was all that mattered. The feeling of being invited by you, of having a place reserved at your side, warmed her chest in an unexpected way.

The moment she crossed through the doors, the world changed. The club was huge, lit by flashes of red, blue, and purple lights that pulsed to the rhythm of the deafening music. The bass shook the floor beneath her feet while bodies moved together on the dance floor as if they were a single wave. The air was heavy with the smell of alcohol, expensive perfume, and smoke, almost intoxicating.

Abby took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sensation of being out of place in that space where everyone seemed to shine in some way. Yet there was still something about her that drew attention: the black pants, the matching black shirt that emphasized her muscular frame, the blonde braid draped over her shoulder, and the glasses that were so much a part of her. But her blue eyes were consumed by only one thing: the anticipation of finding you.

And then, finally, she did.

You were at the bar, illuminated by the lights that shimmered against the short black dress that hugged your silhouette perfectly. Your high heels accentuated your presence even more, and every movement seemed calculated to be magnetic. Abby felt the air escape her lungs. You were dazzling, almost unreal.

“Abby…” you called when you saw her approaching. Your voice carried surprise and a spark of admiration. Your eyes traced over her body slowly, and then a smile curved across your lips. “You look beautiful.”

For a moment, Abby thought she had imagined it. The tension in her chest melted into warmth, and she pressed her hands against the sides of her pants to hide her nerves. Still, she could not mask the flush rising on her cheeks.

“Thank you.” she murmured softly, almost hesitant, but sincere. And in her mind, a single devastating thought echoed: you look perfect.

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked, leaning closer. The sweet scent of your skin reached Abby, and it felt as though nothing else around her mattered except you.

“Maybe… water.” Abby answered, trying to sound calm even as her heart raced too fast.

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as if that response neither surprised nor disappointed you. It was just… typical of her.

“Of course… water for you.” you said, your smile lingering almost enigmatically. Then you turned back toward her, resting your elbow on the counter and letting your hand touch your chin. “You know… I was bored before you got here. It feels like my night is finally about to begin.”

The flush on Abby’s cheeks deepened instantly. She swallowed hard, adjusting her glasses nervously as if that could hide the way her whole body reacted to your words. She’s flirting with me. She’s really flirting with me.

“I… I’m glad I can… make your night better.” Abby tried to respond, stumbling over the first words but regaining confidence at the end, firm enough not to shrink.

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips as if testing her limits. “Just glad? That’s disappointing… I thought you’d be excited to see me.”

Abby’s legs trembled, but she didn’t look away. Her face burned, yet she forced herself to be brave because it was you, and she did not want to waste the chance. “I was… very excited. I spent the whole day thinking about it, actually.”

Your smile widened, pleased with the confession, and you tilted your head, studying her as if she had just become even more interesting. Inside, Abby felt exposed, but at the same time a quiet pride bloomed in her chest for making you smile like that.

“So, Abby…” you began, slowly stirring the straw in your drink as if you were pondering something trivial. But the playful curve on your lips already gave away the teasing that was about to follow. “What are your hobbies besides following me around campus?”

Abby’s heart stopped for a moment. The shock ran through her body so strongly that she almost let the glass slip from her hand.

“I—what?!” she stammered, her blue eyes wide, fixed on you as if trying to figure out whether you were serious or just joking. The blush spread violently across her face, reaching even her ears. “How do you… how do you know that?”

Your laugh was soft and easy, almost musical, and your smile stretched even wider. You leaned in just a bit, like you were about to share something just between the two of you.

“You’re kinda hard to miss, Abby.”

The sound of your voice mixed with the choice of words made her heart race again, but now for an entirely different reason. The blush didn’t fade; on the contrary, it felt as if she were burning from the inside out. Abby looked away for a second, trying to catch her breath and regain her composure before facing you again.

She still felt the words stuck in her throat when you leaned even closer. The sweet and intoxicating scent of your perfume made her chest tighten, and before she could think of anything else, you had already let your hand glide along her arm in a soft touch that sent shivers across her skin.

“Wanna know a secret?” your voice dropped, soft and low, like it was meant just for her.

Abby’s eyes widened, frozen in place, while you paused deliberately, moving even closer. The heat of your body wrapped around her, and when your gaze dropped to her lips, Abby felt she was about to lose her mind. Her heart pounded so fast it felt like it might tear through her chest.

“I was watching you too.” you finished, your mouth now just inches from hers.

Abby’s world spun. She could barely breathe, torn between a nervousness so intense she thought she might faint and a surge of happiness rushing through her. You began leaning in for the kiss, and she closed her eyes for a second, surrendering to the moment…

But the sharp voice of one of your friends cut through the air.

“Hey!”

You froze, closing your eyes with frustration before slowly turning your head. Your friend hurried toward you, out of breath, eyes wide.

“Please, you have to help me. Some people started a fight… please, I need your help.”

You took a deep breath, biting back the words you really wanted to say. The exhaustion on your face betrayed your irritation at being interrupted, but you swallowed it down, letting out only a heavy sigh before stepping away from Abby.

Immediately, Abby protested, reaching out to grab your arm, panic flickering in her gaze.

“Wait, I’m going with you.” Her voice was firm, but there was a genuine fear in it, as if the thought of you facing danger alone consumed her.

“No, stay here. I’ll be back soon.” you said in a tone that left no room for argument.

“What are you going to do?” Abby pressed, eyes locked on yours, as if desperate for reassurance you wouldn’t be at risk.

“I’m just going to politely tell them to leave.” you replied, then let out a short laugh, dripping with irony, as though you didn’t believe your own words.

With one last look at Abby, you turned and followed your friend toward the chaos, leaving her behind with her heart still pounding.

Time seemed to drag as you handled the situation on the other side of the club. A few sharp words, a few people practically dragged outside… nothing you weren’t used to dealing with. But inside, all you wanted was to return to Abby.

And when you finally came back to the main floor, the sight that greeted you was enough to sink your mood.

Abby was surrounded. Three, maybe four girls clustered around her, laughing loudly, trying to get her attention, one of them even touching her arm as an excuse to lean closer. Abby, still holding her glass of water, looked uncomfortable yet at the same time her flushed cheeks betrayed that she didn’t know how to handle so much attention all at once.

You stopped where you stood, watching the scene from a distance. The small smile Abby gave one of the girls made something twist in your stomach. Your expression hardened immediately, and you crossed your arms over your chest, taking a deep breath to keep from exploding.

That was when one of your friends appeared, stumbling toward you with a half-full drink in hand. The strong smell of alcohol preceded him, and the crooked grin on his face made it clear he was far from sober.

He followed your gaze to Abby, then back to you. A rough chuckle slipped from his lips.

“I talked to her for like two seconds and suddenly she’s the most interesting person on campus?” you muttered sarcastically, your lips curving into a bitter smile as you folded your arms tighter.

Your friend burst out laughing, shaking his head as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “Looks like you’ve got competition, princess.” He leaned in, his alcoholic breath hitting your face as he added maliciously, “What are you gonna do about it?”

You turned to face him, eyes burning with disgust and anger, as if he were the last person you wanted to hear from. Without a word, you snatched the drink from his hand.

And holding his gaze, you raised the glass and downed it in one go, feeling the alcohol scorch your throat.

You stood there for minutes, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Abby as she gave nervous laughs in the middle of the little circle of girls around her. Every time one of them leaned closer, every time Abby smiled shyly, your anger grew stronger.

The alcohol burning in your throat didn’t help. The bitter taste mixed with jealousy only made everything more intense. You wanted to push through the crowd and tear each of them away from her, but no. Not yet. You forced yourself to breathe deeply, to calm down.

Slowly, you let go of the bitterness, almost as if shedding your skin. A lazy, careless smile formed on your lips, one that masked the storm inside perfectly. Your body relaxed as you slipped into a new role, that of someone simply too drunk and too vulnerable.

Your steps were calculated, even if they looked unsteady, as you crossed the floor toward Abby.

Her blue eyes lifted the moment you approached, and the circle of girls instantly lost their relevance. She stepped forward, worry etched across her face.

“Are you okay? I was worried.” her voice was steady, but tinged with nervousness, as if she had been holding onto those words for too long.

You raised your eyes to her, letting your head tilt slightly, and let your voice slip out slow and dragged, full of feigned regret.

“I’m fine, I just… I just think I drank too much.”

Her reaction was immediate. Abby reached out, holding your arm carefully, her touch firm but gentle as if she feared hurting you. The tension in her shoulders revealed how instantly alert she had become, completely focused on you.

You bit the inside of your lip, hiding the laugh threatening to escape. It was almost ridiculous how easy she was.

“Can you take me home?” you asked, your voice soft with a touch of staged fragility. “I’d ask one of my friends, but… they’re having so much fun. I don’t want to ruin their night.”

Abby didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, of course. I’ll take you.” Her answer came fast, almost impatient, leaving no room for doubt.

Her hand slid to your waist, steady, guiding you naturally as she led you out of the club. The warmth of her palm against your skin sent a shiver racing through your body, and you almost allowed yourself a smile, mocking how easy it had been to convince her.

On the sidewalk, Abby opened the car door for you, leaning down to help. She held the seatbelt and pulled it across your body, fastening it carefully, as if you were too precious for any detail to be handled carelessly.

Then she walked around and slid into the driver’s seat. She started the engine, the growl filling the tense silence between the two of you.

The drive was quick, quiet, the only sound the muffled music still spilling faintly from the club behind you.

The car stopped in front of your house, and you didn’t waste time pulling Abby along with you, guiding her to the bedroom with hurried steps. She seemed hesitant, but she didn’t question it, only followed at your side with that worry still written in her blue eyes.

As soon as you entered, you closed the door behind you and turned the key in the lock. The dry click echoed in the silent room, and Abby stopped immediately in the middle of the space, her body stiff. The confusion was clear in every feature of her face.

You approached slowly, your eyes fixed on hers, and tried once again to close the distance, leaning in to kiss her. But Abby stepped back, her breath caught.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice low, almost alarmed.

A slow smile formed on your lips as you let the dress slip off your shoulders. “We’re alone now…” you murmured, revealing the lace fabric of your bra under the soft glow of the lamp.

Abby’s eyes widened, panic written in every detail. Before you could continue, she moved forward, grasping your hands firmly to stop the dress from falling any further.

“You don’t know what you’re doing… you’re drunk… we can’t do this.” Her voice sounded urgent, almost pleading, as if she were trying to protect you from yourself.

It was in that instant that the truth hit you hard. You had made a mistake. Abby was too proper. Too… good.

“No, don’t worry, I’m fine…” you insisted, trying to move closer again, but she dodged with determination.

Without leaving room for further protests, Abby took your hand and began leading you to the bathroom. “I’m going to help you get ready for bed. You need to sleep.”

Abby led you to the bathroom with firmness, as if she were carrying something precious. You let her, silent, your eyes fixed on her the entire time. When she sat you on the cold sink and opened the drawer in search of makeup wipes, a shiver ran through you, not from the cold, but from the sight of her so close, so yours, occupying a space that until then had only belonged to you.

She came back to you, moving slowly, and her steady hand held your chin with a gentleness that almost unraveled you. The wipe slid across your skin, removing the layers of makeup, and you remained completely still, as if any movement might break that moment.

Every touch was soft, but in your mind you recorded everything as if it were vital: the way Abby furrowed her brow in concentration, the exact movement at the corner of her mouth when she bit her lip without realizing it, the warmth of her palm against your skin. You already knew you would keep all of it for later, for when she was no longer near, because every detail was yours, only yours.

She had no idea what she was doing to you.

You watched how her blond lashes shimmered under the faint light, how the blue in her eyes seemed even deeper at that distance. You wished that no one else would ever see her so close, that no one else would have that privilege.

On the outside, you stayed quiet, even serene, allowing Abby to believe you were simply too drunk to react. But inside, your heart was pounding, and a darker part of you wanted to laugh at the fact that she, so proper, so self-righteous, was touching you like that, without even realizing how much it meant.

Abby ran the wipe gently across the corner of your mouth, then blew softly, like she was drying off the last bit. You nearly shivered. The gesture was so careful, so tender, that for a moment you felt a strange flicker of guilt for having set it all up.

In the end, when she set the wipe aside and tossed it into the trash, you kept looking at her, silent, as if still under some spell. Abby gave a small, uncertain smile, as if trying to reassure you.

You only returned the look, hiding the real thought burning inside you: she didn’t know it yet, but she was already yours.

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