SYNOPSIS: Yoonchae’s mental health has been bad for a while now. The kind of bad where answering texts feels impossible, laundry piles up for days, and existing starts feeling unbearably heavy. She’s convinced she’s too much for everyone around her — too anxious, too emotional, too difficult to love properly. Then Megan crashes back into her life like sunlight through a window.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Yoonchae doesn’t realize she’s getting bad again until she starts measuring her life in unopened notification.
Like. Twelve texts from Lara. Three missed calls from Daniela. An alarming amount of Duolingo reminders. One passive aggressive “bro are you alive” from Manon. And then there’s the laundry situation. The laundry situation is always the biggest sign. Because normal people probably don’t stare at a hoodie on the floor for forty minutes like it personally insulted them.
Yoonchae does.
The hoodie is pink. Megan’s, technically. Oversized. Soft. It still smells vaguely like vanilla body spray and the strawberry candy Megan keeps in every single bag she owns like a cartoon grandma.
Yoonchae is sitting cross-legged on her bed staring at it like she’s in a dramatic indie film montage. Her room is dark except for the LED lights around her mirror and the glow from her laptop screensaver bouncing gently against the wall. Outside rain taps against the windows. Inside, her brain feels like wet cement.
It’s exhausting.
Existing shouldn’t feel like dragging a shopping cart with one broken wheel through gravel.
But lately it does. Everything is too loud. Or too quiet.Or too much. Or not enough.
And she knows she should answer her friends. She knows she should eat something besides those weird little seaweed chips she found in the back of the cabinet. She knows she should probably shower.
Instead she just pulls the hoodie closer and buries her face in it. Which is when her phone buzzes.
MEGAN:
open the door before i start yodeling in the hallway
Yoonchae bolts upright so fast she nearly falls off the bed.
“What.”
Another buzz.
MEGAN:
i KNOW you’re in there
i heard a thud
MEGAN:
that sounded medically concerning
Yoonchae stares at the messages.
Her stomach twists. Not in a bad way. More like the terrifying way sunlight feels after staying indoors too long. She shuffles toward the door and opens it exactly three inches. Megan immediately pushes a plastic grocery bag through the gap like a raccoon breaking into a campsite.
“I brought emergency supplies.”
Yoonchae blinks.
“What emergency.”
“You haven’t replied in like twenty hours.” Megan gasps dramatically. “That is friendship 911.”
Yoonchae opens the door fully. Megan stands there in giant pajama pants covered in tiny ducks. Actual ducks. Yellow. One of them has sunglasses. Her hoodie sleeves cover half her hands and her hair is clipped up messily with one of those claw clips that always looks effortless on pretty girls and horrifying on everyone else. Except Megan somehow looks cute even when she resembles a sleep-deprived camp counselor. She lifts the grocery bag proudly.
“I have ramen. Gummy worms. Vitamin water. Chocolate milk. And,” she lowers her voice reverently, “dinosaur nuggets.”
Yoonchae laughs before she can stop herself.
Megan points at her immediately.
“There she is.”
“No.”
“Yes. That was a laugh. I heard it with my own two ears.”
“It was more like air escaping.”
“Sure, babe.”
Yoonchae freezes.
Megan freezes too.
There’s a beat.
Then Megan squints.
“I call everybody babe.”
“I know.”
“Okay good.”
“Okay.”
Another beat.
Megan walks into the room like nothing happened. The thing about Megan is that she never enters spaces normally. She arrives. Like confetti. Like a pop-up ad. Like somebody accidentally gave a golden retriever human form and access to caffeine. Within thirty seconds she’s already gasping at the state of Yoonchae’s room.
“Oh this is depression bedroom severe.”
“Don’t bully me.”
“There’s a spoon on your windowsill.”
Yoonchae follows her gaze.
“…I can explain.”
“You know what? I don’t even want the lore.”
Megan drops onto the bed dramatically.
Directly onto the pink hoodie.
“Ow,” Yoonchae says automatically.
Megan goes still.
Slowly she lifts herself.
“Oh my god.”
“What.”
“You’ve been cuddling my hoodie.”
“No I haven’t.”
“You literally said ow when I sat on it.”
“I just didn’t want you wrinkling it.”
“It’s a hoodie.”
“It’s emotionally significant.”
Megan stares at her. Yoonchae stares back. And then Megan’s entire expression softens in this tiny subtle way that almost makes Yoonchae look away. Instead Megan grins.
“Well. Good news. The real thing is here now.”
She opens her arms.
Yoonchae groans immediately.
“You’re so cringe.”
“And yet.”
“And yet what.”
“You’re coming over here.”
“I’m literally not.”
Thirty seconds later Yoonchae is absolutely getting hugged. It’s unfair, honestly. Megan gives the kind of hugs that make you understand why people write poetry. Warm. Soft. Safe.
Like getting wrapped in an electric blanket fresh out of the dryer. Yoonchae melts before she can stop herself. Which is humiliating. Megan squeezes her tighter.
“Hi,” she says quietly.
And that’s the thing. That stupid little hi almost hurts. Because nobody says it like that unless they mean i missed you. Yoonchae swallows hard.
“Hi.”
Megan pulls back just enough to squint at her face.
“You’ve been crying.”
“No.”
“Your eyes are puffier than my ankles after Coachella.”
“That was one time.”
“You cried because your boots were evil.”
“They were evil.”
“Valid.”
Megan doesn’t push. She never really pushes. That’s another thing about her. She notices everything but acts like it’s your choice to tell her. Like she’s standing beside a door instead of trying to break it down. It makes Yoonchae want to open it. Which is annoying. Megan starts unpacking groceries onto the bed.
“Okay. Recovery plan.”
“There’s a recovery plan?”
“Yes.”
“You made one.”
“I have a Notes app.”
“That’s terrifying.”
Megan ignores her.
“Step one: hydration.”
She tosses Yoonchae a vitamin water.
“Step two: you’re eating real food.”
“I had seaweed chips.”
“That is not food. That’s aquarium garnish.”
“Mean.”
“Step three.” Megan points at her dramatically. “You tell me what’s going on in that giant beautiful head of yours.”
Yoonchae immediately flops face-first into a pillow.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Nooooo.”
“Yesoooo.”
“That’s not even a word.”
“Neither is dafuq but you say that every day.”
Yoonchae groans louder.
Megan kicks her gently.
“Talk to me.”
There’s silence for a second. Rain against the window. The distant hum of traffic. Megan opening gummy worms. Yoonchae stares at the wall.
“I’m tired.”
Megan nods immediately.
“Okay.”
“Like… all the time.”
Another nod.
“And everything feels hard for no reason.”
Megan hands her a gummy worm.
Yoonchae takes it automatically.
“And I know I should just get over it because nothing even happened but my brain feels…” She pauses helplessly. “Heavy.”
Megan is quiet.
Not fake quiet.
Not waiting-to-speak quiet. Real quiet. The kind that makes room for your words.
“That sounds exhausting,” she says finally.
Yoonchae’s throat tightens. Because she expected advice. Or solutions. Or that awful “look on the bright side” thing people say when they don’t know what to do with sadness. Instead Megan just sounds… sad for her. Which somehow feels worse. Or better. Maybe both.
“I hate talking about it,” Yoonchae mutters.
“You don’t have to.”
“But you just said—”
“You don’t have to perform your pain for me.”
Yoonchae blinks.
Megan shrugs.
“We can literally just eat dinosaur nuggets and watch TikToks if that’s all you can do today.”
There it is again.
That warmth.
That unbearable softness. Like Megan keeps handing her pieces of mercy without making a big deal about it. Yoonchae stares at her. Megan blinks back. Then immediately ruins the moment by shoving three gummy worms into her mouth at once.
“Behold,” she says thickly. “A snake.”
Yoonchae bursts out laughing. Actual laughing. The kind that sneaks out before you can stop it.
Megan points triumphantly.
“THERE she is.”
“Stop talking.”
“Never.”
And somehow.
Somehow.
Things feel lighter after that.
Not fixed.
Not magically cured.
But lighter. Like somebody cracked open a window in a room that’s been stuffy for months.
It becomes a thing after that. Not officially. Nobody says anything. But Megan starts appearing whenever Yoonchae gets too quiet. Like a very emotionally intelligent cryptid. Sometimes she knocks. Sometimes she barges in holding iced coffee like a suburban dad returning from Home Depot. Once she literally climbs through Yoonchae’s window because “the door felt too formal.”
“You could’ve died,” Yoonchae says.
Megan dusts off her pants.
“But I didn’t. Because I’m athletic.”
“You got winded going upstairs yesterday.”
“That staircase was malicious.”
Another time Megan walks in wearing a cowboy hat and carrying Taco Bell.
“Howdy partner.”
“What the hell are you wearing.”
“Fashion.”
“You look like a horse girl who discovered vaping.”
“Thank you.”
Yoonchae laughs so hard soda nearly comes out of her nose.
Megan gasps.
“My mission succeeds.”
“What mission.”
“To make you less emo.”
“I’m not emo.”
“You listened to Mitski for four consecutive hours yesterday.”
“That means nothing.”
“You sighed at the rain.”
“It was atmospheric.”
“You stared out the car window like you were in a breakup edit.”
“It matched the vibe.”
Megan reaches over and pokes her cheek.
“You’re cute when you’re dramatic.”
Yoonchae nearly chokes on her Baja Blast. Megan, somehow oblivious to the emotional devastation she causes on a daily basis, keeps eating fries. It’s actually insane. Like. Objectively. How is Yoonchae supposed to survive this. Because the problem is that Megan is nice to everyone. She hugs everybody. Compliments everybody. Calls everyone babe and honey and sweetheart. She’s just like that. Warm. Bright. Open. Like sunlight spilling across a floor. But sometimes. Sometimes. Yoonchae catches things that feel different. Like Megan automatically reaching for her hand in crowded streets. Or saving the strawberry flavored candy because “you like the pink ones best.”
Or looking for Yoonchae first after performances. Or the way her whole face lights up whenever Yoonchae enters a room. Which. Okay. Maybe that last one is delusion. But still. The feelings happen. And they’re terrifying. Because Yoonchae already feels like too much. Too emotional. Too anxious. Too difficult. The idea of also being in love with her best friend feels like the universe personally trying to humble her. So naturally she tells nobody. Which works great.
Until Lara corners her in the kitchen at two in the morning.
“You’re down catastrophic.”
Yoonchae almost drops her yogurt.
“What.”
Lara points a spoon at her.
“You look at Megan like she personally invented happiness.”
“I literally don’t.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Traitor.”
Lara grins.
“Oh my god you admit it.”
“I admitted nothing.”
“You’re blushing.”
“It’s warm.”
“It’s February.”
Yoonchae glares at her. Lara only gets more delighted.
“This is incredible actually.”
“It’s horrible.”
“Does she know?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
Yoonchae stares down at her yogurt. Because the real answer sounds pathetic. Because what if Megan realizes exactly how messy Yoonchae is. What if she wakes up one day and decides the heaviness is too much. What if all this softness disappears.
“I don’t know,” Yoonchae mutters.
Lara’s expression softens a little.
“She really cares about you.”
“Yeah. As a friend.”
“Mm.”
“That sounded fake.”
“That sounded noncommittal.”
“You’re evil.”
“Maybe.” Lara steals one of her gummy worms. “But I’m also right.”
Yoonchae throws a napkin at her.
The bad days still happen. That’s the annoying part. Megan doesn’t magically cure anything. There are still mornings where Yoonchae wakes up already exhausted. Still nights where her thoughts feel sharp around the edges. Still moments where she goes quiet and distant and stuck inside herself. But now. Now there’s Megan. Megan sprawled across her floor doing terrible British accents. Megan dragging her outside because “you require vitamin D immediately.” Megan forcing smoothies into her hands. Megan sending TikToks at three in the morning with captions like this cat is literally you. Megan existing so loudly and lovingly that the darkness has less room to spread. One evening Yoonchae has a panic attack in the bathroom before rehearsal.
Completely out of nowhere.
One second she’s fixing her eyeliner. The next her chest. tight and breathing feels impossible and suddenly everything is too bright. Too loud. Too much. She locks herself in a stall. Presses shaking hands over her mouth. Humiliation burns hot behind her eyes. Not now. Not here. Not again. Her phone buzzes.
MEGAN:
where’d u go :(
Another buzz immediately after.
MEGAN:
wait
MEGAN:
are you okay
Yoonchae stares at the screen. Her vision blurs. She types before she can think too hard.
YOONCHAE:
bathroom
Thirty seconds later there’s a knock on the stall door.
Not loud.
Just gentle.
“Hey.”
Yoonchae squeezes her eyes shut.
“Dont come in.”
“Nope.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
Megan slides down against the other side of the stall door. Yoonchae can hear it. The soft rustle of fabric.
“You don’t have to come out,” Megan says quietly.
Yoonchae presses her forehead against her knees.
“I look insane right now.”
“I once threw up on a Tilt-A-Whirl at a carnival.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It was spiritually vulnerable.”
Despite herself, Yoonchae lets out a weak laugh.
“There she is,” Megan murmurs softly.
Something in Yoonchae cracks a little.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I hate feeling like this all the time.”
“I know.”
“And I feel stupid because everyone else can just function normally and I can’t even—”
“Hey.”
Megan’s voice is so gentle it hurts.
“Your brain being mean to you doesn’t make you stupid.”
Silence.
Yoonchae wipes angrily at her face.
“You don’t get it.”
“No,” Megan says honestly. “Probably not completely.”
Another pause.
“But I get that you’re hurting.”
The bathroom suddenly feels very small. Very quiet. Megan taps lightly against the stall door.
“Can you do something for me?”
“What.”
“Unlock the door.”
Yoonchae hesitates. Then slowly reaches over and unlocks it. Megan opens it just enough to squeeze inside. The stall is tiny. Their knees bump immediately. Megan sits down on the floor without hesitation like this is the most normal thing in the world.
“Hi,” she says.
Yoonchae looks wrecked. Mascara smudged. Eyes red. Breathing uneven. Megan only looks at her like she’s something precious. And that nearly destroys her. Megan holds out her hands.
“C’mere.”
Yoonchae goes instantly.
Like gravity. Megan wraps both arms around her and rubs slow circles against her back.
“You’re okay,” she murmurs.
Yoonchae shakes her head against her shoulder.
“I’m trying so hard.”
“I know you are.”
“And it still feels bad.”
“I know.”
Megan says it so simply. No judgement. No frustration. Just certainty. Like she sees every ugly tangled part of Yoonchae’s mind and stays anyway. Yoonchae clutches the back of her hoodie.
“You’re gonna get tired of me eventually.”
Megan pulls back immediately.
“What?”
“You always have to take care of me and I’m always sad and weird and—”
“Yoonchae.”
Megan says her name like a full sentence.
Firm. Warm. Real.
“You are not a burden to me.”
Yoonchae looks away. Megan reaches up and gently turns her face back.
“I mean it.”
Their faces are close. Too close. Yoonchae can see the tiny flecks of gold in Megan’s eyes. Can see the smudge of lip gloss she missed at the corner of her mouth. Can feel the warmth of her hands. Everything in Yoonchae aches.
“I don’t know why you even like me,” she whispers.
Megan stares at her like the answer is obvious.
“Are you kidding?”
Yoonchae shrugs helplessly.
“You’re funny,” Megan says immediately.
“I’m literally not.”
“You made me laugh so hard I snorted ramen last week.”
“That was your own fault.”
“You’re smart. You care about people so much it physically stresses you out. You always notice when somebody’s left out. You give the best advice even though you never take your own. You’re adorable when you get excited about stuff. And you do this thing where you scrunch your nose when you’re trying not to smile.”
Yoonchae stares at her.
Megan shrugs.
“So yeah. I like you a lot actually.”
The air leaves Yoonchae’s lungs. Because. Oh.
Oh.
Nobody’s ever said things like that to her before. Not like they mean them. Megan’s thumb brushes gently under her eye.
“And for the record,” she says softly, “I don’t hang out with you because I feel bad for you.”
Yoonchae’s chest hurts. In the best way. The worst way. Both. Megan grins suddenly.
“Also you’re like. Really hot.”
Yoonchae chokes.
“What.”
“I’m just saying.”
“You cannot say that immediately after emotional vulnerability.”
“Why not? I contain multitudes.”
“You’re insane.”
“And yet you adore me.”
Yoonchae opens her mouth. Closes it. Megan’s smile softens.
“Oh my god.”
“What.”
“You do.”
Panic instantly floods Yoonchae’s body.
“No I don’t.”
“That was the least convincing thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I’m leaving.”
She tries to stand. Megan grabs her wrist. Not hard. Just enough.
“Wait.”
Yoonchae freezes. Megan looks suddenly nervous. Which is deeply alarming because Megan is never nervous.
“I kinda thought maybe…” She laughs weakly. “Okay wait this is terrifying actually.”
Yoonchae’s heartbeat goes nuclear.
“Megan.”
“I like you too, idiot.”
Silence.
Complete.
Total.
Silence.
Yoonchae blinks.
“You what.”
Megan covers her face.
“Oh my god don’t make me repeat it. I already feel like I’m gonna throw up.”
“You like me.”
“Yes.”
“Like romantically.”
“Yes!”
“In a lesbian way.”
Megan drops her hands.
“In an extremely lesbian way, Yoonchae.”
Yoonchae just stares at her. Brain completely blue-screened. Megan starts rambling immediately.
“I was trying to be normal about it but then you kept looking sad and I wanted to fix everything for you which is apparently very pathetic of me and—”
Yoonchae kisses her. She doesn’t even think first. One second Megan is talking. The next Yoonchae is leaning forward and kissing her like her body made the decision without permission.
Megan makes the tiniest surprised noise. Then immediately kisses back. Oh. Oh wow. Okay. So this is why people lose their minds over kissing. Good to know.
Megan’s hand slides gently against Yoonchae’s jaw. Her lips are soft. Everything feels warm and dizzy and unreal. When they finally pull apart they’re both breathing hard. Megan stares at her for two seconds.
Then:
“Holy shit.”
Yoonchae bursts out laughing.
“You’re so romantic.”
“I literally just ascended.”
“You’re so embarrassing.”
“And you’re obsessed with me.”
“Unfortunately.”
Megan beams. Actually beams. Like somebody plugged sunlight directly into her chest. Then she cups Yoonchae’s face again. More gently this time.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“Hi.”
“You know I can’t fix your mental health, right?”
Yoonchae blinks.
“...Yeah?”
“I just don’t want you thinking you have to suddenly be okay now.”
Something tight in Yoonchae’s chest loosens. Because of course. Of course Megan would say exactly the right thing.
“I know,” Yoonchae whispers.
Megan nods.
“But.”
“But?”
“I can sit with you in it.”
Yoonchae feels tears sting her eyes again immediately.
“Oh my god stop being emotionally intelligent it’s annoying.”
Megan laughs.
“Sorry. I watched one therapy TikTok and became powerful.”
Yoonchae leans forward until their foreheads touch. And for the first time in months. Maybe years. The heaviness inside her doesn’t feel quite so lonely.
Dating Megan is exactly as chaotic as expected. For example.
Three days after they get together, Megan sends this text:
MEGAN:
important question
YOONCHAE:
what
MEGAN:
if we were worms would you still love me
YOONCHAE:
this is why nobody takes you seriously
MEGAN:
answer the question coward
YOONCHAE:
yes unfortunately
MEGAN:
YIPPEEEE
Attached is a blurry selfie of Megan giving a thumbs up. She looks deeply unhinged. Yoonchae saves it immediately. Another time they’re walking through the city at night when Megan suddenly gasps.
“What.”
“We should get matching swords.”
“…Why.”
“In case somebody challenges us to battle.”
“That happens to you often?”
“You can never be too prepared.”
Yoonchae laughs so hard she has to stop walking. Megan grins proudly. There are softer moments too. Quiet ones. Like Megan brushing Yoonchae’s hair back while they lie tangled together on the couch. Or kissing the top of her head absentmindedly. Or learning the signs. Because Megan notices now. Notices when Yoonchae goes too silent. When she stops sleeping. When she picks at her food. When her smile starts looking tired around the edges.
And instead of making a big deal about it, Megan just shifts closer. Touches her knee. Hands her water. Asks if she wants company. Makes space. It’s terrifying. Being loved like this. Not despite the broken parts. Just alongside them.
One night Yoonchae wakes up from a nightmare breathing too fast. The room is dark. Her chest hurts. For a horrible disoriented second she feels sixteen again. Small. Scared. Alone. Then Megan stirs beside her. Immediately awake somehow.
“Hey.”
Yoonchae presses a hand over her eyes.
“Sorry.”
“Baby.” Megan’s voice is still sleepy and warm. “Don’t apologize.”
Yoonchae hates how shaky she sounds.
“I woke you up.”
“You could wake me up by throwing a brick at my head and I’d still love you.”
Yoonchae goes without hesitation now. Fits herself against Megan’s chest. Megan wraps around her immediately. Warm. Safe. Real.
“You wanna talk about it?” Megan murmurs.
Yoonchae shakes her head.
“Okay.”
No pressure. No disappointment Just okay. Megan rubs slow circles against her back. Outside, rain taps softly against the windows. Inside, Megan’s heartbeat thumps steady beneath Yoonchae’s cheek.
“You know,” Megan says sleepily, “I think your brain is a liar.”
Yoonchae smiles against her hoodie.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Because it keeps telling you nobody could love you properly.”
Her arms tighten slightly.
“And that’s objectively false. I’m literally obsessed with you.”
Yoonchae snorts.
“You’re so weird.”
“And yet.”
“And yet what.”
“You’re smiling now.”
Yoonchae hates that she’s right. Mostly because she always is. Megan tilts her head down just enough to kiss her forehead. And maybe the sadness never fully disappears. Maybe Yoonchae still has hard days. Still has mornings where the weight returns. Still has moments where her own mind feels impossible to live inside. But now there’s this too. Megan’s laugh filling up kitchens at 2 a.m. Megan dancing terribly in oversized socks. Megan kissing her cheeks until she giggles. Megan existing beside her like proof that warmth survives. Like proof that tenderness survives. Like proof that maybe Yoonchae does too.
SYNOPSIS: Megan works up the courage to ask Manon to prom!
TAGS: kisses, first kiss, lara and Megan are best friends, high school au, fluff
this was a request but i accidentally lost it somehow.. so this is for anon
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──
Megan had been in love with Manon for so long that it basically stopped feeling like a crush and started feeling like a permanent background app running on her brain. Like, she’d be sitting in algebra, pretending to understand quadratic equations, and her brain would just casually go: Manon has pretty eyes though. Or she’d be in the cafeteria eating fries that were somehow both cold and hot at the same time, and suddenly she’d look across the room and just forget how to be a normal human being because Manon laughed at something and it hit different every single time.
It wasn’t even dramatic in a cinematic way. It was worse. It was quiet. Constant. The kind of thing that didn’t let her move on because it wasn’t loud enough to get over, just soft enough to stay.
Manon wasn’t like… unattainable popular girl in the movies or anything. That wasn’t it. She was just Manon. Funny in a way that felt effortless, like she didn’t even realize she was being funny. She wore her hoodie sleeves over her hands when she was cold. She always had a pen behind her ear like she was one stressful quiz away from becoming a detective. She’d tilt her head when she listened to people like she actually cared about what they were saying, which, in high school, felt like a superpower.
And Megan? Megan was… Megan.
She was in the “kind of funny if you already know her” category. The “laughs at her own jokes first” category. The “walks into a room and immediately forgets why she’s there” category. Not tragic. Just awkward in a way that made her feel like she was always three seconds behind reality.
Which is why the idea of asking Manon to prom had lived in her brain for weeks like a cursed little secret she kept trying to ignore.
Prom wasn’t even that important to her, technically. That’s what she told herself at first. It’s just a dance. It’s just a high school thing. It’s just overpriced tickets and bad lighting and people pretending they understand slow dancing.
But then Lara happened.
Lara was Megan’s best friend in the “we survived group projects together and never emotionally recovered” way. Lara was the kind of person who said things like “girl, just do it” with the energy of someone who had never once hesitated in her life, even though she absolutely had.
One day, Lara just looked at her across the lunch table, mid-bite of a sandwich, and went, “You are still not asking Manon to prom, are you.”
Megan nearly choked on her own air. “I—what? I never said I was—”
Lara raised an eyebrow so high it basically left the atmosphere. “Megan. Be serious.”
And that was the problem. Megan could be anything except serious when it mattered.
Lara leaned back in her chair. “Listen. You’ve been doing the soft staring thing for like… two years.”
“It has not been two years,” Megan said immediately, which was technically a lie.
“It has been emotionally two years,” Lara corrected.
Megan buried her face in her arms. “That’s not a unit of time.”
“It is when you’re in love and delusional,” Lara said, way too calmly.
Megan groaned into the table. “I don’t even know how to ask her. I’ll like… malfunction. I’ll become a Windows error screen.”
Lara nodded thoughtfully. “Honestly? Accurate.”
“Not helpful.”
“I’m not trying to be helpful,” Lara said. “I’m trying to push you off the cliff so you learn how to fly or whatever.”
“That is a terrible metaphor.”
“It’s a classic.”
So that’s how Megan ended up spiraling for a week straight.
She drafted speeches in her head. Deleted them. Redrafted them worse. She considered texting Manon. Immediately rejected that idea because what if Manon showed someone and they all laughed and Megan had to transfer schools and become a forest hermit.
She considered writing a note. Also rejected. Because notes were either romantic or serial killer adjacent and there was no in-between.
Lara kept watching her like a scientist observing a very anxious frog.
Finally, one afternoon after school, Lara slapped her locker shut and said, “You’re doing it today.”
Megan blinked. “Doing what?”
Lara stared at her like she had asked what water was. “Asking her.”
Megan followed her like a doomed side character. “This feels like peer pressure.”
“It is,” Lara said brightly.
The universe, unfortunately, did not intervene.
They found Manon outside by the steps near the science building, sitting with her backpack half-open, headphones in one ear, scrolling on her phone. Megan’s entire body immediately forgot how to function.
Lara gave her a look that said go.
Megan gave her a look that said absolutely not.
Lara mouthed: now.
Megan took one step forward.
Then another.
Then her brain went completely blank.
Manon looked up.
That was the moment Megan’s soul briefly left her body.
Manon pulled one earbud out. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Megan said.
Silence.
Not normal silence. Like, apocalyptic silence. Like even the birds were uncomfortable.
Lara, behind her, made a hand gesture that could only be interpreted as do something or I’m deleting you from existence.
Megan swallowed. “So, um.”
Manon tilted her head slightly. “Yeah?”
Megan’s brain tried to load any functioning sentence and failed spectacularly. “Okay so like—this is gonna sound insane but also not insane in like a criminal way just in like a… normal human way—”
Manon blinked slowly. “Okay.”
Megan nodded too fast. “Right, cool, cool, cool, cool.”
Lara pinched the bridge of her nose behind her.
Megan forced herself to continue. “So prom is happening.”
Manon glanced down at her phone like she was checking if prom had been rescheduled without her knowledge. “Yeah.”
“And I was thinking,” Megan continued, voice cracking slightly, “that like… maybe… you could go with me?”
There. It was out.
Sort of.
Technically.
It sounded more like a question that had gotten lost on the way out of her mouth and decided to give up halfway through.
Manon stared at her.
Megan stared back.
The silence expanded. It became a physical object. It had weight. It was crushing Megan’s lungs.
Behind her, Lara was absolutely vibrating with secondhand stress.
Megan immediately regretted all life choices leading up to this moment. She started to back up slightly. “Actually you know what forget I said anything this was weird I’m sorry I’ll just—”
“Wait,” Manon said.
Megan froze.
Manon looked at her for a second longer, like she was actually processing instead of just reacting. Then she smiled.
Not a big dramatic movie smile. Just a small one. Real.
“Yeah,” Manon said. “Okay.”
Megan’s brain completely shut down.
“…wait,” Megan said.
Manon blinked. “Yeah?”
“You said okay?”
Manon nodded like it was obvious. “Yeah.”
Megan stared at her like she had just witnessed a miracle and a glitch in the simulation at the same time. “You mean… like… prom okay?”
Manon laughed a little. “Yes, Megan. Prom okay.”
Megan made a noise that was not language.
From behind her, Lara whispered, “Oh my god.”
Megan turned slowly. “Did you just—did you just agree?”
Lara looked like she was trying not to scream. “I watched you ascend and return as a different species.”
Megan turned back to Manon. “Okay. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”
Manon smiled again. “Cool, cool, cool?”
Megan nodded too many times. “Yeah. Definitely cool. Very cool. Ice cold even. Metaphorically.”
Manon laughed again, and Megan was pretty sure she died briefly and came back.
“Text me details?” Manon said, already standing up.
“Yes,” Megan said immediately. “Yes absolutely I will do that. Like… aggressively.”
“Okay,” Manon said, slipping her backpack on. “See you.”
“Yeah,” Megan said. “See you.”
Manon walked off.
Megan stood there for a full five seconds before collapsing slightly into Lara’s shoulder.
“I’m going to faint,” Megan announced.
Lara patted her head like she was a malfunctioning device. “You didn’t faint. You succeeded.”
“I think I blacked out emotionally.”
“That’s fair.”
That night, Megan texted Manon three times, deleted two of them, and eventually settled on:
Megan: so like prom is next friday. doors at 7. also i am sorry for being weird earlier
Manon replied almost immediately:
Manon: you were fine lol
Manon: pick me up at 6:45?
Megan stared at her phone for a solid minute.
Then she texted Lara:
Megan: this is happening and I am not emotionally stable enough for it
Lara: you asked her out and survived. you’re basically a war veteran
Megan: I feel like a war criminal actually
Lara: same thing in high school romance terms
The week leading up to prom felt unreal.
Megan walked through school like she was underwater. Everything was slightly delayed. People spoke and she heard them like two seconds later. Teachers assigned homework and she nodded like she understood but did not process a single word.
Manon acted completely normal.
Which was worse.
Because Megan kept expecting her to suddenly realize she had made a mistake. Like some kind of cosmic refund policy.
But Manon didn’t change. She still laughed in the hallway. Still shared gum with friends. Still looked at Megan like she was just… Megan.
Which was somehow worse and better at the same time.
The night before prom, Lara came over.
She brought snacks. Obviously.
She also brought emotional commentary, which was her main hobby.
Megan was sitting on her bed surrounded by a disaster zone of outfit options. Dresses. Shirts. One blazer she didn’t remember buying.
Lara flopped onto the floor. “Okay. We need to address the elephant in the room.”
Megan didn’t look up. “If you say elephants I will cry.”
“You’re not ready.”
Megan paused. “For prom?”
Lara pointed at her. “For emotions.”
“I literally asked her out already,” Megan said.
“Yeah,” Lara said. “That was stage one. This is stage two. Looking at her in a nice outfit and realizing your brain is going to short-circuit.”
Megan threw a shirt at her.
Lara caught it easily. “Also you’re overthinking the outfit.”
“I am not overthinking,” Megan said immediately.
Lara raised an eyebrow.
Megan sighed. “I am underthinking with anxiety.”
“Better.”
They eventually settled on something simple. Something that didn’t feel like she was trying too hard but also didn’t look like she had given up on life. Lara called it “effortless main character energy.” Megan called it “I hope I don’t spill anything on myself.”
Lara left with a final warning: “Do not pass away tomorrow.”
“I will try my best,” Megan said.
Prom night arrived like a glitch in reality.
Megan got ready in a blur. Shower. Outfit. Shoes. Panic. Rechecking everything. Panic again.
Her mom kept saying things like “you look nice” which only made her more nervous because now she had to exist in public with eyes on her.
At exactly 6:40, she was standing in her living room pacing.
At 6:44, she was staring at the door like it was going to bite her.
At 6:45, her phone buzzed.
Manon: i’m here
Megan’s stomach dropped out of her body.
Lara’s last text popped up at the same time:
Lara: remember you are legally required to breathe
Megan opened the door.
Manon was standing there.
And Megan’s brain absolutely stopped working.
Manon was dressed like she had casually stepped out of a pinterest board but in a way that still looked like her. Not overdone. Just… clean, put-together, slightly soft around the edges. Her hair was different than usual, down instead of tied back, and Megan had to actively remind herself how walking worked.
Manon smiled when she saw her. “Hey.”
Megan nodded once. “Hi.”
Silence.
Then both of them awkwardly laughed at the same time.
“Okay,” Manon said. “We’re doing great already.”
“Yeah,” Megan said. “We’re thriving actually.”
It was going to be a long night.
The school gym had been transformed in the way high schools always try to transform things: dim lights, cheap decorations, attempts at elegance that still smelled faintly like floor polish and teenage stress.
Music was already playing when they arrived. Too loud. Slightly distorted.
Lara was already inside, immediately locking eyes with Megan and making a thumbs up so aggressive it looked like a threat.
Megan gave a tiny wave that probably looked like she was malfunctioning again.
Manon leaned in slightly. “Your friend is intense.”
“She is,” Megan said. “But in a supportive way.”
“That’s good,” Manon said.
They got drinks they didn’t really want and stood near the edge of the dance floor like two people observing a social experiment.
Megan kept forgetting how to stand normally. Manon seemed fine but also kind of amused, like she was watching Megan slowly self-destruct in real time.
At some point, Lara joined them.
She took one look at both of them and immediately said, “So.”
Megan groaned. “Don’t so me.”
Lara ignored her and looked at Manon. “Hi. I’m Lara. I am emotionally responsible for this one.”
Manon smiled. “Nice to meet you.”
Lara nodded seriously. “Important question. Are we dancing tonight or are we all just standing here like NPCs?”
Megan choked. “We are not dancing.”
Manon nodded immediately. “Yeah, no dancing.”
Lara looked between them. “Oh my god, you’re the same person.”
Megan and Manon both protested at once.
“We are not—”
“No—”
Lara held up a hand. “Okay, okay. No dancing alliance. Got it.”
Megan exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”
Manon glanced at her. “You really don’t want to dance?”
Megan shook her head too fast. “Absolutely not. That’s like… public embarrassment with rhythm.”
Manon hummed. “Fair.”
Lara leaned in slightly. “This is the cutest disaster I’ve ever seen.”
“Please stop narrating,” Megan said.
Lara smiled sweetly. “Never.”
Time passed in small moments.
They took photos. Bad ones. Good ones. Ones where someone blinked at the wrong time. Ones where Megan didn’t know where her hands were supposed to go.
They wandered around the gym. Avoided the middle of the dance floor like it was lava.
At one point, Manon and Megan ended up sitting on the bleachers while Lara went off to “investigate snacks,” which meant she was absolutely talking to someone and gathering intel like a spy.
Manon kicked her feet slightly. “So this is prom.”
Megan nodded. “Yeah. It’s… loud.”
“It is,” Manon agreed.
They sat in comfortable-ish silence for a moment.
Then Manon said, “I’m glad you asked me.”
Megan froze slightly. “Yeah?”
Manon nodded. “Yeah.”
Megan looked down at her hands. “I thought you were gonna say no.”
“Why would I say no?” Manon asked.
Megan shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know. I just… assumed.”
Manon tilted her head. “You assume weird things.”
“Constantly,” Megan admitted.
Manon smiled. “Noted.”
Lara returned at some point with chips and dramatic news about someone’s outfit that neither of them understood.
At some point later, music shifted into slower songs.
Megan immediately stiffened like a warning siren had gone off.
Lara looked at both of them. “Okay. Important update. Slow songs are happening. I will be outside mentally.”
Megan nodded. “Good idea.”
Manon looked toward the dance floor, then back at Megan. “Still no dancing?”
Megan shook her head firmly. “Still no dancing.”
Manon shrugged. “Okay.”
They stayed where they were.
Which, honestly, was perfect.
Because the night didn’t need them in the middle of anything.
It just needed them there.
Eventually, Lara disappeared again, presumably to continue her side quest of being everywhere at once.
Megan leaned back against the bleachers. “This is actually… not horrible.”
Manon laughed softly. “High praise.”
Megan nodded. “Yeah. Like… I expected suffering.”
“Only mild suffering,” Manon said.
“Exactly.”
They fell into another quiet pause.
But this one felt different. Less awkward. More… full.
Megan glanced at Manon, then away quickly like she got caught doing something illegal.
Manon noticed anyway. “What?”
“Nothing,” Megan said immediately.
Manon raised an eyebrow.
Megan sighed. “I just… still can’t believe you said yes.”
Manon looked at her for a moment. “You really thought I wouldn’t?”
Megan hesitated. “I mean… yeah.”
Manon leaned back slightly, thinking. “That’s kind of funny.”
“Not funny,” Megan said weakly.
Manon smiled. “A little funny.”
Megan groaned.
Then Manon added, softer, “I’m glad I did though.”
Megan looked at her again.
This time she didn’t look away.
The noise of the gym faded a little. The lights felt softer. Everything narrowed down to the space between them.
Megan swallowed. “Yeah?”
Manon nodded.
“Yeah.”
Silence again.
But this one wasn’t empty.
It was full of everything they hadn’t said for years.
Megan’s heart was doing something aggressive in her chest. Like it had decided to run a marathon without permission.
Manon shifted slightly closer on the bleacher step. Not much. Just enough.
Megan noticed anyway.
“Okay,” Manon said quietly, “I feel like I should say something normal right now but I don’t know what that is.”
Megan let out a small laugh. “Same.”
They both laughed a little, and it helped. Just enough.
Manon looked at her. “You’re really bad at this.”
Megan nodded immediately. “Yes.”
“But also,” Manon continued, “kind of good at it.”
Megan blinked. “That makes no sense.”
“It does in my head,” Manon said.
That made Megan laugh again, softer this time.
They didn’t move for a second.
Then Manon said, even quieter, “Can I?”
Megan’s brain short-circuited for the third time that night.
“Can you what?” she asked, even though she had a pretty strong idea.
Manon didn’t answer with words.
She just leaned in.
Slow. Careful. Like she was giving Megan time to stop it if she wanted to.
Megan didn’t.
Her heart basically exploded in her chest.
And then everything else disappeared.
It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t like the movies with music swelling and people cheering.
It was just soft and real and warm and unbelievably simple.
When they pulled back, Megan was pretty sure she had forgotten how to breathe correctly.
Manon was smiling a little like she couldn’t quite believe she just did that either.
“Okay,” Manon said quietly.
Megan nodded slowly. “Okay.”
From somewhere nearby, Lara screamed, “I KNEW IT.”
Megan jumped so hard she almost fell off the bleachers.
Manon started laughing.
Megan covered her face. “Oh my god.”
Lara appeared at the bottom of the steps like she had been summoned by chaos itself. “I leave you alone for ONE SECOND.”
Megan peeked through her hands. “Please stop talking.”
Lara ignored her completely, pointing between them. “This is insane. This is adorable. I am emotionally overwhelmed.”
Manon was still laughing, which honestly made everything worse in the best way.
Megan slowly lowered her hands. “So… prom?”
Lara made a noise of disbelief. “PROM? GIRL YOU JUST HAD A WHOLE LIFE EVENT.”
Manon nudged Megan lightly with her shoulder. “Still no dancing?”
Megan looked at her.
Then at Lara.
Then back at Manon.
She sighed dramatically. “We are absolutely not dancing.”
Manon smiled. “Good.”
Lara threw her hands up. “YOU ARE BOTH RIDICULOUS.”
But she looked happy.
And for once, Megan didn’t feel like she was three seconds behind reality.
She felt exactly where she was supposed to be.
Right there.
With Manon.
And Lara, unfortunately narrating everything like it was her job.
And prom still going on around them, loud and messy and glowing and completely irrelevant in the background of something much more important happening quietly on the bleachers.
The next twenty minutes were chaos in the most normal way possible.
Sophia brushing her teeth while Daniela sat on the counter talking non-stop.
Manon waiting patiently, occasionally chiming in just to keep Daniela from spiraling into complete nonsense.
At one point Daniela tried to use Sophia’s toothbrush “as a joke” and nearly got exiled.
---
Eventually, Sophia came out, fresh and already in comfy clothes.
“My turn,” Manon said, grabbing her stuff.
---
The second Manon disappeared into the bathroom, Daniela turned to Sophia with a look.
“…So.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“I have an outfit planned.”
“That sentence concerns me.”
“It shouldn’t.”
“It absolutely should.”
---
Daniela just grinned and disappeared into her bag.
---
By the time Manon came out of the shower, hair damp and hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, Sophia was already sitting on the bed scrolling through her phone.
She looked up.
Paused.
Because wow, Manon post-shower was always a moment.
“Hey,” Sophia said softly.
Manon smiled a little. “Hey.”
Sophia reached out, tugging her closer by the sleeve.
A quick kiss.
Soft. Easy.
Then another, just because she could.
Manon leaned into it, humming quietly.
---
“Okay, hi, I’m still here,” Daniela’s voice cut in.
They both turned.
And then—
Paused.
---
Daniela stood there like she had just stepped onto a runway.
Tiny shorts.
Like, dangerously tiny.
And a cropped tank top that barely counted as fabric.
---
Sophia blinked.
Then blinked again.
“…I can basically see your ass.”
---
Daniela placed a hand on her hip. “That’s the point.”
Manon stared for half a second longer.
Then shook her head.
“Never wear that in public.”
---
Daniela gasped. “You guys are so judgmental.”
“You are one strong breeze away from a public incident,” Sophia said.
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Manon replied.
---
Daniela rolled her eyes but climbed onto the bed anyway, fully unbothered.
“If I’m going to be attacked,” she said, “I’m at least going to be comfortable.”
---
Manon sat down between them, still slightly damp from the shower.
Daniela immediately attached herself to her side like it was instinct.
Sophia leaned in from the other side.
It happened naturally.
Always did.
---
There was a quiet moment.
Just them.
Close.
Warm.
---
Daniela tilted her head, looking at Manon.
“You smell nice.”
Manon huffed softly. “It’s shampoo.”
“Still counts.”
---
Sophia reached out, brushing a strand of damp hair away from Manon’s face.
Then leaned in—
A soft kiss.
Manon kissed her back, slow and gentle.
---
Daniela made a small offended noise.
“Wow. Okay.”
Sophia pulled back just enough to glance at her. “What?”
“I would also like attention.”
---
Manon smiled slightly and turned, pressing a quick kiss to Daniela’s lips.
Daniela immediately melted.
“Thank you.”
---
Sophia leaned over, kissing Daniela too.
Because obviously.
Daniela grinned into it, completely pleased with herself.
---
“See?” she said. “Balance.”
“Was that your master plan?” Manon asked.
“Maybe.”
---
They settled back against the pillows, tangled up again without even thinking about it.
Daniela half on top of Manon.
Sophia tucked into her other side.
---
The lights were dim now.
The room quieter.
---
“You ever think about how weird this would look to other people?” Daniela said suddenly.
“All the time,” Sophia replied.
Manon shrugged. “I don’t really care.”
“Same,” Daniela said. “Just curious.”
---
Sophia tilted her head, looking at them both.
“I like this,” she said.
Simple.
Honest.
---
Manon’s expression softened.
“Yeah,” she said.
Daniela nodded. “Me too.”
---
There was a pause.
Then Daniela leaned up, kissing Manon again.
Soft. A little longer this time.
Manon kissed back without hesitation.
---
Sophia watched for half a second—
Then leaned in, pressing a kiss to Manon’s cheek.
Then to Daniela’s temple.
Then Daniela turned and kissed her properly.
Because of course she did.
---
It turned into that kind of quiet, sleepy affection.
Soft kisses.
Foreheads resting together.
Hands finding each other under the blankets.
---
“I love you,” Daniela murmured, already half-drifting.
“I love you too,” Sophia said.
Manon pressed a gentle kiss to both of them, one after the other.
“Love you.”
---
Daniela, not done, lifted her head slightly and kissed Manon again.
Then Sophia.
Then flopped back down like that completed something important.
SYNOPSIS: Megan Skiendiel is a loser. Manon Bannerman was new, she was gorgeous. She hadn't learned just how far down the social ladder Megan was yet so Megan took it as her chance to try and finally bag a girlfriend.
TAGS: first kiss, first relationship, sleepovers, loser!megan, bullying, m&m, dani and sophia mention
WORD COUNT: 4263
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Megan Skiendiel was, by every possible high school metric, a certified loser.
That wasn’t even her opinion. That was just… the general consensus. Like gravity. Like Mondays being terrible. Like the vending machine always eating your last coin.
She had no friends. Not in the “oh I have like two close ones” way. No. Zero. None. The kind of no friends where group projects felt like public executions.
She had never had a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Or even a “talking stage.” Her romantic history was just a blank Google doc.
She got bullied. Not even in some dramatic movie way. It was quieter, more constant. Little comments. Laughs when she walked past. People moving their bags so she wouldn’t sit near them. That kind of thing.
Her wardrobe? Oversized hoodies that looked like she borrowed them from someone six sizes bigger. Baggy jeans. Scuffed sneakers. The same three outfits on rotation like a sad little carousel.
Her hobbies were comics, video games, and staying up way too late fueled by energy drinks that tasted like battery acid and regret.
And yet.
Despite all that.
Megan had decided, for reasons even she couldn’t fully explain, that this year… she was going to try.
Not glow up. Not become popular. She wasn’t delusional.
Just… try.
Which is how she found herself absolutely spiraling on a random Tuesday morning because of Manon Bannerman.
Manon was new.
And not just “new kid sits quietly in the back” new.
No.
Manon walked into class like she accidentally wandered out of a Pinterest board. Effortless. That was the word. Everything about her looked effortless. Her hair fell perfectly without trying. Her clothes looked casual but somehow expensive. Even the way she smiled at the teacher when she introduced herself felt… cinematic.
The class clocked it immediately.
Within five minutes, people were already whispering.
Within ten, half the guys were sitting up straighter.
Within fifteen, Daniela Avanzini had turned around in her seat, scanning Manon like she was assessing competition.
And Megan?
Megan had forgotten how to breathe.
Not in a cute way. In a “her brain literally stopped functioning and she stared too long” way.
Which, of course, meant she got noticed.
“Why is she staring like that?” someone muttered.
Megan snapped her head down so fast she nearly headbutted her desk.
Great. Amazing. Fantastic start. Truly.
But here’s the thing.
Manon hadn’t seen it like that.
She’d just noticed a girl in the corner wearing a hoodie that looked like it could double as a blanket, staring at her like she was either terrified or in awe.
And for some reason, Manon thought that was… kind of adorable.
It started small.
Everything always does.
A seat change.
That’s it.
The teacher decided the seating plan needed “refreshing,” which was code for “you people won’t stop talking.”
Megan didn’t care. She never did. She just went wherever she was told, kept her head down, counted the minutes until she could leave.
Until she looked at the board.
And saw her name.
Right next to Manon’s.
No.
No, no, no, no.
There had to be a mistake. A typo. A glitch in reality.
She checked again.
Still there.
She sat down like she was approaching a bomb.
Careful. Quiet. Don’t mess this up.
Manon turned to her almost immediately.
“Hey.”
Megan froze.
Her brain scrambled for a response and came up with nothing useful.
“Hi,” she managed, voice cracking just enough to ruin the moment.
Smooth. Incredible. Truly the peak of social interaction.
Manon smiled.
Not a polite smile. Not the kind people give when they’re being forced.
A real one.
“I’m Manon.”
“I know,” Megan blurted.
Silence.
Megan wanted to evaporate.
“Sorry,” she added quickly. “I mean, the teacher said your name. Not like I— not in a weird way. I wasn’t—”
Manon laughed.
Not at her.
Just… laughed.
“It’s okay,” she said. “And you’re Megan, right?”
Megan nodded.
“Cool,” Manon said, like that was genuinely interesting information.
Cool.
Megan Skiendiel had just been called cool.
This was either a dream or the beginning of a mental breakdown.
By lunch, the entire school had decided this was hilarious.
Because of course they had.
“Since when does Megan get upgraded seating?” Daniela said loudly, leaning back in her chair like she owned the place.
Her best friend Sophia snorted. “Maybe it’s a charity thing.”
A few people laughed.
Megan kept her eyes on her tray.
She was used to this. It didn’t sting less, but it was… familiar.
What wasn’t familiar was Manon sitting down across from her.
Just… choosing to.
No hesitation. No weird look around. No “oh is this seat taken?”
She just sat.
Daniela noticed immediately.
“Oh,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You might wanna pick a different table.”
Manon blinked. “Why?”
Sophia leaned forward. “Trust us.”
There was a pause.
The kind where everyone expected Manon to laugh awkwardly and move.
She didn’t.
Instead, she looked at Megan.
“You okay if I sit here?”
Megan stared at her like she’d just asked something impossible.
“Yeah,” she said quietly.
Manon nodded. “Cool.”
And just like that, she stayed.
The table went weirdly quiet.
Daniela scoffed. “Your loss.”
Manon didn’t even look at her.
She just opened her drink and took a sip like nothing had happened.
Megan, meanwhile, was seconds away from passing out.
“Do they always do that?” Manon asked casually, like they were discussing the weather.
Megan shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“That’s… annoying.”
Megan let out a small laugh. “You get used to it.”
Manon frowned slightly.
“I don’t think you should have to.”
Megan didn’t know what to do with that.
No one had ever said something like that to her. Not like they meant it.
So she defaulted to what she knew.
Deflection.
“It’s fine. I’m like… easy target material.”
Manon tilted her head. “Why?”
Megan blinked. “Uh. Everything?”
“Like what?”
Megan gestured vaguely at herself. “This whole situation.”
Manon looked her up and down.
Not in a judgmental way. Just… observing.
“I think you look comfortable,” she said.
Megan actually short-circuited.
Comfortable.
That was a new one.
“I mean,” Manon added, “you look like you could survive a nap anywhere. That’s kind of impressive.”
Megan huffed a laugh before she could stop herself.
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s my main skill.”
“Good skill,” Manon said.
And for the first time in a long time, Megan didn’t feel like a punchline.
The thing about Manon was that she didn’t act like she’d been given a script.
She didn’t follow the usual rules.
She didn’t avoid Megan.
She didn’t whisper about her when she thought she couldn’t hear.
She didn’t treat her like a project or a joke.
She just… talked to her.
Asked her about stuff.
Listened to the answers.
It was weird.
Suspicious, even.
Megan kept waiting for the catch.
There had to be one.
People didn’t just… like her. That wasn’t how things worked.
Right?
“Wait, so you actually read comics?”
They were in the library, technically working.
Megan had a book open in front of her but hadn’t read a single word.
“Yeah,” she said, bracing for impact.
“What kind?”
Megan hesitated.
This was usually the part where people lost interest. Or made a joke. Or both.
“Mostly like… indie stuff. Some superhero. Depends.”
Manon leaned in slightly. “Do you have a favorite?”
Megan blinked.
No one had ever asked her that like it mattered.
“Uh. Yeah. I mean— yeah.”
“Tell me.”
And just like that, Megan did.
She talked.
At first, it was cautious. Short answers. Testing the waters.
But Manon kept asking questions.
Actual questions. Not the fake “I’m pretending to care” ones.
And slowly, Megan got… animated.
Her hands moved when she explained things.
Her voice got louder without her noticing.
She forgot to be self-conscious.
And Manon just watched her with this soft, amused expression.
Like she was enjoying it.
Which made no sense.
But also… kind of everything.
Daniela hated it.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just enough.
“You’re really hanging out with her?” she asked Manon one afternoon.
They were by the lockers.
Megan was there too, technically, but slightly to the side. Like always.
Manon didn’t even look confused.
“Yeah.”
Daniela crossed her arms. “Why?”
There it was.
The question.
The one everyone was thinking.
Megan looked down, already preparing for the answer.
The polite excuse. The slow distancing.
Instead—
“She’s funny,” Manon said.
Megan looked up so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.
Daniela blinked. “What?”
“And nice,” Manon added. “And kind of awkward, but in a cute way.”
Silence.
Actual, stunned silence.
Sophia let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re joking.”
Manon shrugged. “Nope.”
Daniela’s expression shifted. Not confused anymore. Something sharper.
“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Just don’t say we didn’t warn you.”
Manon smiled slightly. “About what?”
Daniela didn’t answer.
She just walked off.
Megan turned to Manon.
“Why would you say that?”
Manon frowned. “Say what?”
“That I’m—” Megan stopped. “That stuff.”
Manon looked genuinely confused.
“Because it’s true?”
Megan stared at her.
“You don’t have to like… pretend.”
“I’m not.”
“But—”
“Megan.”
Her name, said like that, made her pause.
“I mean it,” Manon said. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
Megan opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
Because the honest answer?
It was hard to believe because no one had ever said it before.
Not like that.
Not without a punchline waiting at the end.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Manon studied her for a second.
Then smiled, softer this time.
“Well,” she said, “you should probably start getting used to it.”
It didn’t magically fix everything.
Daniela and Sophia didn’t suddenly become nice.
If anything, they got more subtle. More cutting.
Little comments under their breath.
Looks.
The kind of stuff that sticks.
And Megan still felt it.
Still flinched sometimes.
Still had moments where she wondered if Manon would eventually get tired of her.
But now?
Now there was something else too.
There were moments in class where Manon would nudge her and whisper something dumb.
There were shared headphones and half-listened music.
There were after-school walks where they talked about nothing and everything.
There was laughter.
Real laughter.
The kind that made Megan forget to be careful.
“You know,” Manon said one evening, as they sat on the curb outside school, “you’re not what people say you are.”
Megan snorted. “Bold claim.”
“I’m serious.”
“People say I’m a loser.”
Manon shrugged. “People say a lot of things.”
Megan picked at the label of her energy drink.
“They’re not wrong,” she said quietly.
Manon didn’t respond right away.
When she did, her voice was calm.
“Do you think that?”
Megan hesitated.
That was the problem.
She did.
Or at least… she had for a long time.
“I don’t know,” she said.
Manon nodded slowly.
“Okay,” she said. “Then we’ll work on that.”
Megan blinked. “We?”
“Yeah,” Manon said, like it was obvious. “You’re stuck with me now.”
Megan let out a small laugh.
“Is that a threat?”
“Maybe,” Manon grinned.
And something in Megan’s chest felt… lighter. The shift wasn’t dramatic. No big moment where everything changed. Just… small things. Accumulating. Megan speaking up a little more in class. Megan not immediately assuming the worst. Megan smiling more. It didn’t go unnoticed.
“Wow,” Sophia said one day. “She’s like… evolving.”
Daniela smirked. “Still a loser.”
Megan heard it. Of course she did. But this time? It didn’t hit the same. Because right next to her, Manon rolled her eyes.
“Get new material,” she muttered.
And Megan smiled.
One day, after school, they ended up in Megan’s room. Which was… an experience. It was a mix of organized chaos and complete disaster. Comics stacked everywhere. Game controllers tangled together. Empty energy drink cans in questionable numbers. Megan stood awkwardly by the door.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s kind of—”
“Real,” Manon said, stepping in.
She looked around, taking everything in.
“You can tell a lot about someone’s room,” she added.
Megan winced. “Yeah. Mine says I don’t go outside.”
Manon laughed. “It says you like things. That’s good.”
She picked up a comic from the pile.
“Can you show me your favorites?”
Megan hesitated for half a second.
Then nodded.
“Yeah,” she said.
And she did.
Hours passed without them noticing. Talking. Laughing. Arguing about characters like it was life or death. At some point, they ended up sitting on the floor, backs against the bed. Close. Not touching. But close enough that Megan was very aware of it. Her brain was doing that thing again. Overthinking. Don’t be weird. Don’t ruin this. Don’t say something stupid. Manon nudged her.
“You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Thinking too hard.”
Megan huffed. “It’s my default setting.”
Manon smiled.
“I like it,” she said.
Megan looked at her.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You notice stuff other people don’t.”
Megan swallowed.
“That’s… not always good.”
“Maybe not,” Manon said. “But it’s you.”
And for some reason, that felt important.
It happened on a random evening. No buildup. No dramatic music. Just… a moment. They were sitting side by side, watching something neither of them was really paying attention to. Their shoulders were touching now. Casual. Accidental. Except it wasn’t. Megan’s heart was doing a lot. Way too much.
“Hey,” Manon said softly.
“Yeah?”
Manon hesitated. Which was new.
“I have a question.”
“Okay.”
“Have you ever… liked someone?”
Megan froze.
Oh.
Oh no.
This was dangerous territory.
“Uh,” she said eloquently.
Manon watched her. Patient. Waiting. Megan could lie. Deflect. Make a joke. That would be safer. Instead—
“Yeah,” she said quietly.
Manon’s expression didn’t change.
“Right now?”
Megan’s brain screamed. Abort. Abort. ABORT. But her mouth? Her mouth betrayed her.
“Yeah.”
There was a pause. Long enough to feel like everything was hanging in it.
Megan stopped breathing. This was it. The point of no return. She could still back out. Say no. Laugh it off. But— Manon was looking at her like she wanted the truth. So Megan gave it.
“Sorry,” she added quickly. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. I can—”
Manon kissed her.
Not dramatic. Not perfect. Just… real. Soft. Slightly unsure. But very, very intentional. Megan’s brain completely shut down. When they pulled back, everything felt different.
“What—” Megan started.
“I like you too,” Manon said.
Like it was simple. Like it wasn’t the most impossible thing Megan had ever heard.
“You do?”
“Yeah,” Manon smiled. “A lot, actually.”
Megan stared at her. Trying to process. Trying to believe it.
“Are you sure?” she asked, because of course she did.
Manon laughed softly.
“Yes, Megan. I’m sure.”
Megan let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay,” Manon echoed.
And then, after a second—
“Can I kiss you again?”
Megan blinked. Then smiled.
“Yeah,” she said.
And this time, she didn’t overthink it. By the next day, nothing had changed. And everything had. Daniela still rolled her eyes. Sophia still made comments. The school still had its opinions. But now? Megan had something stronger than that. She had someone who saw her. Not as a joke. Not as a project. But as someone worth liking. Worth choosing. And yeah. She was still awkward. Still wore oversized hoodies. Still drank way too many energy drinks. Still read comics like her life depended on it. But now? When Manon looked at her and smiled? Megan didn’t look away. Because maybe, just maybe— She wasn’t a loser. Not to the person who mattered most.
The first few days after it happened felt unreal. Not in a dramatic, “everything is different” way. More like… Megan kept expecting to wake up and realize she’d imagined the whole thing after one too many energy drinks. But then Manon would grab her hand in the hallway. Or lean her head on Megan’s shoulder during class. Or send her a dumb message in the middle of the night like:
“are you awake”
“important question”
“if cats could talk would they be mean or just chaotic”
And Megan would just sit there, staring at her phone, smiling like an idiot. So yeah. It was real.
---
They didn’t make a big announcement or anything. There was no official “we are now dating” speech. It just… became obvious. Manon sitting closer than necessary. Megan walking Manon to her next class even if it made her late. The way they looked at each other. People noticed. Of course they did.
“Wait,” Sophia said one morning, squinting at them across the hallway. “Is this actually happening?”
Daniela crossed her arms. “That’s embarrassing.”
Megan heard it. Her shoulders tensed automatically. But then—
Manon squeezed her hand. Not subtle. Not hidden. Just… there.
Megan glanced at her. Manon didn’t even look bothered.
“Do you want to get food after school?” she asked casually.
Like nothing else mattered. Megan felt something warm settle in her chest.
“Yeah,” she said.
And just like that, the comments faded into background noise.
---
Their first actual “hangout as girlfriends” felt weirdly normal.
Which made it even more surreal.
They ended up at a small convenience store, grabbing snacks like they always did. Except this time, Manon kept bumping into her on purpose.
“Stop,” Megan said, trying not to laugh.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You literally just walked into me.”
“Maybe you walked into me.”
Megan snorted. “Yeah, sure.”
They stood in front of the drinks fridge. Megan reached for her usual. Manon made a face.
“You actually drink those on purpose?”
“They’re good.”
“They taste like chemicals.”
“That’s the point.”
Manon laughed, grabbing a juice instead.
“You’re going to die at 25.”
“Worth it,” Megan said.
Manon looked at her for a second. Then, out of nowhere, leaned in and kissed her cheek. Quick. Soft. Gone before Megan could react. Megan froze.
“...what was that for?”
Manon shrugged, smiling. “You looked cute.”
Megan turned red instantly.
“Shut up.”
“No.”
---
They started spending more time together after school. Sometimes they’d go out. Most of the time, they just ended up in one of their rooms. Megan’s room became a default spot. Mostly because Manon liked it. Which Megan still didn’t fully understand.
“You have good vibes,” Manon said, lying on Megan’s bed like she owned it.
“My room is a mess.”
“It’s organized chaos.”
“That’s not better.”
Manon reached out, tugging lightly on Megan’s hoodie sleeve.
“Come here.”
Megan hesitated for half a second. Then sat down next to her. Close. Manon shifted slightly, resting her head on Megan’s shoulder. Megan went completely still.
“You okay?” Manon murmured.
“Yeah,” Megan said quickly. “Just… processing.”
Manon smiled against her shoulder.
“You do that a lot.”
“Yeah.”
A pause. Then Megan, very carefully, leaned her head against Manon’s. It was small. Barely anything. But it felt huge.
---
Kissing got easier. Not less exciting. Just… less terrifying. At first, Megan had been convinced she was doing everything wrong. Too stiff. Too awkward. Too something. But Manon never made it feel like that.
She’d just laugh softly, or pull her closer, or whisper, “you’re fine, relax,” against her lips.
And slowly, Megan did.
One evening, they were sitting on the floor again, backs against the bed. Same as before. Except now, everything felt… softer. Safer. Manon was scrolling on her phone, half distracted. Megan was pretending to read a comic. Not really focusing. Just… aware. Of the space between them. Of how easy it would be to close it. Her brain started overthinking again. What if she messes it up. What if it’s weird. What if—
Manon glanced at her.
“You’re doing the thing again.”
Megan sighed. “I know.”
Manon put her phone down.
“Come here.”
Megan blinked. “I’m already here.”
“Closer.”
Megan shifted slightly. Manon shook her head.
“Closer.”
Megan huffed a quiet laugh, then moved until their knees were touching.
“Happy?”
Manon tilted her head.
“Still not close enough.”
Before Megan could respond, Manon leaned in and kissed her. Slow. Unrushed. Megan melted into it without even thinking. Her hand came up, hesitating for a second before resting lightly on Manon’s arm. Manon smiled into the kiss. Which made Megan smile too. Which made the whole thing slightly messy and a little awkward— But in a good way. When they pulled back, Megan let out a quiet breath.
“Okay,” she said.
Manon raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”
“That was… yeah.”
Manon laughed. “You’re so bad at describing things.”
“Shut up.”
The first sleepover happened almost by accident. It got late. Later than planned.
Megan checked the time and winced.
“Uh… it’s kind of late.”
Manon glanced at her phone.
“Oh. Yeah.”
Neither of them moved.
“You should probably go home,” Megan said.
“Probably.”
Another pause.
Manon looked at her.
“Or I could stay.”
Megan’s brain did a full restart.
“Stay?”
“Yeah. Sleepover.”
Megan blinked.
“Like… actually?”
Manon grinned. “Yeah. Unless you don’t want to.”
“No, I do,” Megan said quickly. “I just— I didn’t think—”
“I know,” Manon said. “That’s why I asked.”
Megan felt her face heat up.
“Okay,” she said. “Yeah. Stay.”
---
It was… surprisingly chill. They brushed their teeth side by side, bumping elbows and laughing quietly. Megan gave Manon one of her oversized hoodies to sleep in. Which looked ridiculous on her. In a good way.
“You’re drowning in that,” Megan said.
“It’s comfortable,” Manon shot back.
“That’s my thing.”
“Sharing is caring.”
Megan rolled her eyes.
But she couldn’t stop smiling.
---
The lights were off. The room was quiet. They lay side by side on Megan’s bed. Not touching. Very aware.
“This is weird,” Megan whispered.
“A little,” Manon admitted.
A pause. Then—
Manon reached out. Found Megan’s hand under the blanket. Laced their fingers together. Just like that. Megan’s breath caught slightly. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezed back.
“Better?” Manon asked softly.
“Yeah,” Megan said.
Definitely better.
---
They didn’t fall asleep right away.
They talked. About random things. About serious things. About nothing. At some point, the conversation slowed. Words turning into quiet. Comfortable silence. Megan stared at the ceiling. Then turned her head slightly.
“Manon?”
“Mm?”
“Why me?”
It slipped out before she could stop it. Manon shifted, turning onto her side.
Facing her.
“Why not you?”
Megan huffed. “That’s not an answer.”
Manon studied her in the dim light.
“You’re kind,” she said.
Megan made a face. “Debatable.”
“You’re funny.”
“Accidentally.”
“You’re interesting.”
Megan hesitated.
“…really?”
“Yeah,” Manon said simply.
She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against Megan’s cheek.
“And you’re you.”
Megan swallowed.
“That’s… not a strong selling point.”
Manon smiled softly.
“It is to me.”
Megan didn’t know what to say to that. So she didn’t. She just… leaned in. Closing the small space between them. The kiss was softer than before. Sleepy. Slow. When they pulled back, they didn’t go far. Foreheads resting together.
“Go to sleep,” Manon murmured.
“Okay,” Megan whispered.
And this time, she did.
---
Mornings were… interesting. Megan woke up first. Which was unusual. She blinked, disoriented for a second. Then remembered. And froze. Manon was still asleep. Curled slightly toward her. Their hands still loosely intertwined. Megan stayed very still. Like if she moved, it might disappear. She studied Manon’s face quietly. The way her hair fell over her eyes. The way she looked softer when she wasn’t awake. It hit her all over again.
This is real.
Manon shifted slightly, blinking awake.
“Why are you staring at me?” she mumbled.
Megan panicked. “I wasn’t— I mean, I was, but not in a weird—”
Manon smiled, eyes still half closed.
“Good morning.”
Megan relaxed a little.
“Morning.”
Manon squeezed her hand lightly.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Megan groaned. “Please don’t start.”
“Too late.”
---
They didn’t become a completely different couple overnight. They were still them. Still awkward. Still figuring things out. But now there was this constant thread between them. Something steady. Something real.
---
One afternoon, they were back outside the school. Same curb. Same spot as before. Megan had a drink in her hand. Manon was leaning against her shoulder.
“Remember when you thought I was going to ditch you?” Manon said.
Megan winced. “Don’t remind me.”
Manon laughed softly.
“You really didn’t believe me at all.”
“I’m working on it,” Megan said.
Manon tilted her head up slightly.
“You’re doing better.”
Megan glanced at her.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
Then Megan smiled.
Small, but real.
“Good,” she said.
Manon nudged her.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m really glad I sat with you that day.”
Megan let out a quiet breath.
“Me too.”
And she meant it.
More than anything.
---
People still talked. They probably always would. But it didn’t define things anymore. Because at the end of the day— Megan had someone who chose her. Not as a joke. Not as a last option. But first. And that? That changed everything.
---
One last thing. Late one night. Messages back and forth. Half asleep.
Megan: “you still awake”
Manon: “barely”
Megan: “important question”
Manon: “oh no”
Megan: “are we like… actually girlfriends”
There was a pause.
Then—
Manon: “yeah, idiot”
Megan stared at the screen.
Smiling.
Megan: “okay just checking”
Manon: “go to sleep”
Megan: “say it again”
Manon: “goodnight my girlfriend”
Megan put her phone down. Heart doing that thing again. But this time? She didn’t question it. She just let herself feel it. And for once—
SYNOPSIS: Megan and Daniela are girlfriends. Dani is kinda super toxic. Manipulative. But so fucking alluring. Megan thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. No exaggeration. And Dani liked that. So she kept Megan around.
Megan knew she was in trouble the first time Dani smiled at her like that.
Not like a normal smile. Not polite. Not friendly. Not even flirty, really.
It was the kind of smile that made you feel like you’d already lost something, even if you didn’t know what yet.
And Megan, unfortunately, was the type to hand things over willingly.
Including herself.
It started small. It always does.
A shared class. A few jokes. Dani leaning over too close, like personal space was just a suggestion she didn’t believe in. Megan laughing too hard at things that weren’t even that funny, just because Dani’s eyes were on her.
Dani noticed everything.
That was the first red flag.
The way Megan tucked her hair behind her ear when she got nervous. The way her voice got quieter when she felt like she was being annoying. The way she apologized for literally existing.
Dani clocked all of it within, like, a week.
And instead of being normal about it, she just… used it.
“Why do you say sorry so much?” Dani asked one afternoon, chin propped on her hand, staring at Megan like she was a puzzle.
Megan blinked. “I—sorry, I just—”
Dani laughed, soft and sharp at the same time. “See? You just did it again.”
Megan felt her cheeks burn. “It’s just a habit.”
“Cute,” Dani said, tilting her head. “A little pathetic, but cute.”
That should’ve stung.
It did sting.
But Dani said it while looking at her like she was something special, like she was worth paying attention to, and Megan… melted.
That was the problem.
Dani could say something objectively mean, but the way she said it made Megan feel chosen.
They started texting after that. It was casual at first. Or at least, Megan told herself it was. Then it wasn’t.
Dani: u awake
Megan: yeah
Dani: call me
Megan: rn?
Dani: obviously
Megan didn’t even question it. Just hit call.
“Hi,” she said softly when Dani picked up.
“Why do you sound like that?” Dani murmured.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re scared of me.”
Megan swallowed. “I’m not.”
“Mm,” Dani hummed, clearly not believing her. “You should be.”
Megan didn’t realize it yet, but that sentence would become a leash.
They became girlfriends in a way that didn’t feel official until it suddenly was.
No big confession. No dramatic moment.
Just Dani grabbing Megan’s hand one day and not letting go.
And Megan never asked what that meant.
She just held on.
Dani was… a lot.
That was the nicest way to put it.
She was the kind of person who needed attention like oxygen but acted like she didn’t care if she got it. Who would ignore Megan for hours, then suddenly show up like nothing happened and expect everything to be the same.
And Megan always let it be.
Because when Dani was good, she was unreal.
“You’re so pretty,” Megan whispered one night, half-asleep on a call.
Dani scoffed. “I know.”
But she didn’t sound annoyed.
“Like, actually,” Megan continued, voice soft and honest in that way she got when she was tired. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
There was silence for a second.
Then Dani said, quieter than usual, “You’re so dramatic.”
But she didn’t hang up.
Didn’t change the subject.
Just stayed.
And Megan didn’t know it, but that mattered.
Dani liked the way Megan looked at her.
Like she was everything.
Like she was untouchable.
It fed something in her.
Something she didn’t really question.
Why would she?
Megan wasn’t going anywhere.
The thing about Dani was that she didn’t see herself as toxic.
She just thought she knew what she wanted.
And what she wanted was Megan.
Always available. Always soft. Always there.
And Megan… tried.
God, she tried.
Dani: why didn’t you reply?
Megan blinked at her phone, confused.
Megan: i was in class
Dani: for 2 hours??
Megan: yeah we had a test
Dani: you could’ve said something
Megan’s chest tightened.
Megan: i didn’t think to
Dani: exactly
Exactly.
Megan stared at that word for way too long.
“Are you mad at me?” Megan asked later, voice small over the phone.
“I’m not mad,” Dani said flatly.
That was worse.
“I just don’t like being ignored.”
“I wasn’t ignoring you,” Megan said quickly. “I just had a test, I told you—”
“Yeah, after.”
Megan’s throat closed up a little. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” Dani snapped.
Megan flinched, even though Dani couldn’t see her.
“Sorry,” she said again, quieter.
Dani exhaled sharply. “You’re doing it on purpose now.”
“I’m not, I just—”
“Whatever,” Dani cut her off. “I’m tired.”
And just like that, the conversation shifted.
Because when Dani was tired, everything changed.
“Stay on the phone,” Dani mumbled.
“I will,” Megan said immediately.
Dani’s voice got softer, almost slurring a little. “Don’t hang up.”
“I won’t, pretty girl.”
That nickname.
Dani went quiet for a second.
“…Say it again.”
Megan smiled a little, even though her eyes still stung. “Pretty girl.”
Dani huffed, like she was trying to act unbothered. “You’re so cringe.”
“Mm,” Megan hummed. “But you like it.”
A pause.
“…Yeah,” Dani admitted, barely audible.
And just like that, everything was okay again.
At least for now.
That was the cycle.
Dani would push until Megan bent, then pull her close like nothing ever happened.
And Megan let her.
Because she loved her.
Or at least, she thought she did.
It got worse slowly.
So slowly Megan didn’t notice at first.
“Why do you still talk to her?” Dani asked one day, scrolling through Megan’s phone like it was hers.
Megan hesitated. “She’s just my friend.”
Dani raised an eyebrow. “She’s annoying.”
“She’s not—”
“She is,” Dani interrupted. “I don’t like her.”
Megan shifted. “Okay…”
“Okay?” Dani repeated. “That’s it?”
Megan’s heart started racing a little. “What do you want me to say?”
Dani looked at her, eyes sharp. “I want you to care that I don’t like her.”
“I do care,” Megan said quickly. “I just—she hasn’t done anything—”
“Yeah, she has,” Dani cut in. “She talks to you.”
Megan blinked.
“…What?”
Dani rolled her eyes. “You’re mine. Why is she acting like she has access to you?”
Something in Megan’s chest twisted.
“That’s not—Dani, she’s just my friend—”
“Then stop talking to her.”
The room went very, very quiet.
Megan’s throat felt tight. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
Megan stared at her, searching for something—anything—that said this wasn’t real.
Dani just stared back.
Unblinking.
Certain.
Megan felt her eyes start to sting.
“You’re being mean,” she said softly.
Dani’s expression flickered for a second.
Then hardened.
“You’re being dramatic.”
That did it.
Megan’s vision blurred.
“I’m not trying to fight,” she said, voice shaking. “I just don’t understand why you’re—”
“Oh my god,” Dani groaned. “Are you seriously about to cry?”
Megan pressed her lips together, but it was too late. A tear slipped down anyway.
“I’m not—”
“You are,” Dani said, almost laughing. “You always do this.”
“That’s not fair,” Megan whispered.
“Neither is you choosing other people over me.”
“I’m not choosing—”
“Then prove it.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Megan wiped her face quickly, embarrassed.
“…Okay,” she said quietly.
Dani blinked. “Okay what?”
“I won’t talk to her anymore.”
And there it was.
Dani felt it settle in her chest like something warm.
Victory.
She didn’t smile.
But she wanted to.
That night, Dani texted her.
Dani: u mad at me
Megan: no
Dani: liar
Megan: i’m not
Dani: you cried
Megan: i cry a lot
Dani: yeah i noticed
Megan stared at that message, her chest aching.
Dani: come here
Megan didn’t even ask what that meant.
She just went.
Dani was different when she was tired.
Softer.
Needier.
Like all the sharp edges got sanded down just enough.
“You took forever,” Dani mumbled when Megan walked in.
“It’s been ten minutes,” Megan said gently.
“Too long.”
Megan smiled a little, despite everything. “You’re clingy.”
“Shut up,” Dani muttered, already pulling her closer.
Megan let herself be pulled.
Always.
Dani buried her face in Megan’s shoulder, arms wrapped tight around her like she was scared Megan might disappear.
“You smell nice,” Dani murmured.
Megan’s heart did that thing again.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t move.”
“I won’t, angel.”
Dani exhaled, relaxing into her.
“…You’re not allowed to leave me,” she said, voice quiet and heavy with sleep.
Megan’s chest tightened.
“I won’t,” she said automatically.
She meant it.
That was the problem.
Days blurred together like that.
Good moments. Bad moments. Moments where Megan felt like the most important person in the world. Moments where she felt like nothing at all.
And Dani controlled all of it.
Without even trying that hard.
“Why do you stay?” Dani asked randomly one night.
Megan blinked. “What?”
“With me,” Dani clarified. “I’m not exactly nice to you.”
Megan hesitated.
Then, softly, “You are sometimes.”
Dani snorted. “That’s a low bar.”
“I don’t mind.”
“That’s concerning.”
Megan smiled a little. “I just… I see you.”
Dani went quiet.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means,” Megan said carefully, “I know you’re not as mean as you act.”
Dani laughed, but it sounded forced. “You’re delusional.”
“Maybe.”
“…You are.”
“Okay.”
Dani frowned. “Stop agreeing with me.”
Megan laughed softly. “You just said I was delusional.”
“You are, but you’re supposed to argue.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Dani said, frustrated, “it’s annoying when you just—accept everything I say.”
Megan tilted her head. “But I don’t mind.”
Dani stared at her.
Longer than usual.
“…You’re weird,” she said finally.
Megan smiled. “You like that.”
Dani rolled her eyes.
But she didn’t deny it.
The thing was, Dani did like Megan.
In her own way.
A way that wasn’t soft or easy or healthy.
But real.
She liked how Megan never left.
How she always came back.
How she looked at Dani like she was something worth loving, even when Dani gave her every reason not to.
It made Dani feel powerful.
And also… something else.
Something she didn’t really have a name for.
One night, it all kind of… cracked.
“Why are you like this?” Megan asked, voice shaking again.
Dani groaned. “Not this again.”
“I’m serious,” Megan said. “You say you like me, but then you—”
“What? Treat you like shit?” Dani snapped.
Megan flinched.
“…Yeah.”
Silence.
Dani ran a hand through her hair, frustrated. “I don’t know, okay? I just do.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
Megan’s eyes filled again. “You make me feel like I’m not enough.”
Dani’s chest tightened.
“Then leave,” she said, too quickly.
The words hung in the air.
Sharp.
Final.
Megan froze.
“…What?”
“I said leave,” Dani repeated, but her voice wavered slightly this time. “If I’m so bad, just go.”
Megan stared at her.
Like she’d just been hit.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t,” Megan insisted, stepping closer. “You always say stuff like that when you’re upset, but you don’t actually want me to go.”
Dani’s jaw clenched.
“Stop acting like you know me.”
“I do know you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do,” Megan said, tears slipping down again. “You push people away before they can leave you.”
Dani went very still.
“Don’t psychoanalyze me.”
“I’m not, I just—”
“Stop.”
The room went quiet.
Megan wiped her face, trying to steady her breathing.
“…I don’t want to leave,” she said softly.
Dani didn’t respond.
“I just want you to be nicer to me.”
Still nothing.
Megan’s voice broke. “Please.”
That word.
It did something to Dani.
Something uncomfortable.
Something she didn’t like.
“Come here,” Dani muttered finally.
Megan hesitated for half a second.
Then went.
Of course she did.
Dani pulled her in, holding her tighter than usual.
Not gentle.
But not rough either.
Just… desperate.
“You cry too much,” Dani mumbled into her hair.
Megan let out a shaky laugh. “Maybe you’re just mean too much.”
Dani huffed.
“…Maybe.”
Megan’s heart skipped.
That was the closest thing to an apology she’d ever get.
“Daniela,” Megan whispered after a moment.
Dani tightened her grip.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Dani swallowed.
“…You better not.”
And that was the thing.
Megan stayed.
Dani kept her.
And somewhere in between the toxicity and the softness and the late-night calls and the tears and the quiet “pretty girl”s…
manon had always been hard to read - sharp smile , colder eyes , and a habit of pulling you in just to push you away . youve been circling each other for months , maybe years if you counted all the half - truths and mixed signals . she wasn't your girlfriend . not really . but she knew just how to keep you close enough to hurt .
Her lips brushed your cheek—a cruel kind of softness. “Lucky for you, I’m really bored tonight.”
tonight , she sat at the edge of your bed , legs crossed , one manicured hand flipping through your playlist like she owned it .
" why do you always look at me like that ? "
she asked without looking up .
you swallowed hard .
" like what ? "
" like you think I feel the same way . "
her tone was light and mocking .
" I don't . "
you looked away , heart sinking . she stood , stepping closer .
" dont get it twisted sweetheart . I only like you when I'm bored . "
her lips brushed your cheek - a cruel kind of softness .
" lucky for you , I'm really bored tonight . . "
" well I'm not . "
she tilted her head , eyes flashing with something unreadable .
" what was that , darling ? "
the pet name rolled off her tongue , sharp and sweet . she stood between your legs , hands gliding up your thighs , toying with the button of your jeans .
you knew this game . knew she'd leave you aching for more and hating yourself in the morning for letting it happen again .
" I'm tired of this . I don't wanna do it anymore . "
manon froze , her fingers stopping their teasing path over your hips .
" oh , darling "
she cooed , her voice suddenly cold .
" whats the matter ? cant handle the game anymore ? "
she stepped closer , forcing you to lean back against the bed . her thumb found the underside of your chin , lifting your face so you had to look at her .
" it's not a game . youre just shitty . find someone who doesnt mind getting used . "
she laughed , a cruel , breathy sound .
" sweetheart , dont kid yourself . youll always come crawling back to me . "
her thumb traced the outline of your bottom lip , her touch sending tingles down your spine . no matter how shitty she was , she knew your weaknesses - and had no qualms about exploiting them when she felt like it .
" whatever . "
you mumble bitterly , standing up and making a move to exit her house .
manon stared at you . a mix of surprise and irritation flickering in her eyes . she wasn't used to being defied like that .
after a moment , she grabbed her jacket and followed you out into the night , catching up quickly with her long strides . she grabbed your wrist , spinning you to face her .
" where the fuck do you think youre going ? "
" manon seriously . I'm done . "
she scoffed , but her grip tightened - just slightly .
" done ? you don't get to be done with me . "
her free hand came up , sharp nails grazing your jaw line like a warning . her smirk was gone now , replaced by something colder .
" fine . walk away then . "
a pause .
" we both know you won't make it ten steps before looking back at me . "
" whatever . "
manon's gaze flickered down to your wrist in her grasp , her grip subconsciously tightening . seeing you like this - eyes averted , shoulders slumped , stubborn defiance - was almost unfamiliar .
she let out a sharp scoff .
" look at me . "
her chin angled upwards , forcing you to look into her sharp golden eyes .
" you might be ready to walk away , but you'll always come back . you need me too much to stay gone . "
" we'll see . "
you pull away and keep walking .
manon stood frozen , watching you walk away . her fingers flexed , as if remembering the feeling of your skin beneath them . she couldn't understand why this stung so much .
as the distance grew , she called out after you .
" youll be back ! "
there was a hint of sharpness in her voice , a hint of desperation that surprised her . she shoved her hands into her pockets , hating the way her heart rate hadn't returned to normal .
hours passed and you didn't return .
night fell , bringing with it the chill of the winter air . manon sat alone in her apartment , staring out the window at the empty street . she told herself she didn't care . that she was glad you walked away .
but the silence was deafening . the memories of your touch , your scent , your laughter . . . they all haunted her like a ghost . a ghost she'd pushed away and was now realising she desperately wanted back .
she'd never admit it out loud , but the empty space beside her felt like a void . she'd grown accustomed to your present - your scent on the sheets , your toothbrush beside hers , the way your fingers traced the curve of her spine when you thought she was asleep .
her phone sat untouched on the coffee table , taunting her with it's silent , black screen . she'd been tempted to call a dozen times , but pride stopped her each time . pride , and the fear that she might hear the sound of the indifference in your voice .
as the clock ticked last midnight , manon found herself pacing around her apartment , unable to settle . every familiar corner was now filled with memories - the couch where you cuddled during movie nights , the kitchen counter when she taught you how to make her favourite recipe , the hall leading to her bedroom . . .
she closed her eyes , willing the memories to fade . but they kept flooding back , each one a painful reminder of what she'd driven away so nonchalantly .
she couldn't do it . she needed to text you . she opened the contact -
" y / n ✂ "
manon's thumb hovered over the screen , hesitation warring within her . part of her was still screaming that she didn't need this , didn't need you . but her heart , traitorous thing that it was , had other ideas .
she opened the chat , staring at blank text box . what was she even supposed to say ? sorry for being shitty ? miss you ?
she scoffed at her own weakness , fingers flying over the screen , fingers flying over the screen with the sharp click of nails against glass .
manon's heart stuttered , she hadn't expected you to reply so quickly - or for your response to ache as much as it did .
she didn't mention the fact that she'd already bundled your hoodie in her arms , pressing her face into the fabric to inhale the scent . the scent of you . it filled her sense and made her chest ache with want .
she lay back in her bed , the hoodie crumpled against her like a makeshift pillow . part of her was still hoping you'd change your mind , text her back and say you were coming over . but the silence continued , and she felt the edges of her resolve start to crumble .
she hated this - hated feeling like she was drowning without you . hated missing someone she'd pushed away so carelessly . but here she was - alone , missing your presence , and wrapped in your scent . . .
she doesn't even know why she said that to you . " I only like you when I'm bored " . it was a lie . a big dumb lie . she opens she phone again . not to text you , to cry to some playlist you made for her . she pressed shuffle . she knew she would end up texting you at 3am , crying and apologising like a weak little baby .
and then came the tears - hot , angry , unwilling tears . she wrapped your hoodie around her tighter , inhaling the scent like a lifeline .
she'd never been good at expressing her feelings . hell , she prided herself on being cold , detached . . untouchable . but as the night wore on and the tears continued to fall , she couldn't deny it any longer .
she needed you . not just the way she'd claimed earlier - to cure her boredom . no , she needed you in a deeper , more desperate way . your comfort , your love , your presence . . . they were everything she'd been pretending she didn't want , everything she'd foolishly let slip away .
she couldn't keep it in . she opened your contact once more and just slammed you with desperate pleas .
each notification buzzed with a mix of desperation and sincerity that man in herself had no idea she was capable of . she stared at the screen , her heart clenching with each one she typed . this wasn't just a pleasure for you to come back . it was a confession , a surrender , a naked admission of what she'd been hiding for so long .
she held your hoodie tighter , feeling the weight of her words in her chest . she'd never said I love you like this - so openly , so vulnerable , so afraid . . .
you read the texts , your heart clenched . she loved you . she has never said that before . you didn't want to give it . you couldn't . couldn't trust her . as much as you wanted to .
she stood , smoothing down her hair and wiping away the traces of her tears . all she had to do was wait . . .
every passing moment felt like an eternity . the apartment suddenly felt too quiet , too dark , manon wandered around restlessly , straightening pillows , pacing in front of the window , biting her nails - anything to keep herself occupied until you arrived .
when the knock sounded at the door , her heart leapt into her throat , she took a deep breath , forcing her usually cool demeanor into place , and went to open it . . .
" took you long enough . . . I missed your face . "
she muttered
" shut up , cry baby . "
you say , pulling her into a tight hug .
manon let out a shaky breath , her body melting into yours the second you touched her . she buried her her face in your shoulder , fingers clutching at the back of your shirt like she was afraid you'd disappear .
" fuck off . "
she mumbled wetly against your skin ,
" I hate that I cried over this . "
but she doesn't actually pull away . instead , she held on tighter - letting herself be weak for once because with with , it felt safe .
" proves you care . rare occurrence for you . "
you tease
despite everything , manon huffed out a laugh . she pulled back slightly , just far enough to fix you with a sharp glare .
" watch it . I'm being vulnerable here . don't ruin it by being a dick . "
she warned playfully .
" you said you love me . "
manon stiffened , her cheeks flushing a furious shade of pink . she hadn't expected you to call her out in that - hadn't even thought about the weight of those words until now .
" I was - "
she stammered , eyes darting away before she forced herself to meet your gaze again .
" . . . that doesn't mean anything I'm taking it back . asshole . "
" so you meant it ? "
manon's jaw tightened , her nails digging into your hips where she still held you . she looked away - toward the window , toward anything but you .
" obviously . you think I just say that shit ? to anyone ? "
her grip on you shifted slightly - not letting go . never letting go again .
" I love you too . "
manon's heart stuttered at your words , a sharp exhale escaping her before she had a chance to stop it . she was used to the power plays , the games , the control . . . but not this . not your sincerity , you'd vulnerability , your love . . .
she looked up , gold eyes meeting yours - vulnerable and raw in a way she'd never show to anyone but you .
" youre a dick for not saying it first , y'know ? "
she mumbled , no real bite in it .
" in my defense , you said you only liked me when you were bored like . . three hours ago . "
manon winced at the memory . she had said that , hasn't she ? a careless like that now haunted her every move .
" that was . . it was bullshit , okay ? I didn't . . I didn't mean it . I was stupid "
" I know you didn't . . still hurt though , you know ? "
manon's shoulders slumped . yeah , she knew . the look of hurt that flashed through your eyes had nearly broken her . she reached up to cup your face , fingers tracing the outline of your jaw with a gentleness that surprised even her .
" I'm not good at this . "
she admitted , voice so quiet she was almost whispering .
" being vulnerable , admitting my feelings , letting you in and not . . . pushing you away . "
" it's okay . . we can help each other . . . right ? "
manon let out a shaky breath , a small , tentative smile curving her lips . help each other . it sounded so simple - yet everything about them was always so complicated .
" yeah , yes . "
she leaned into you , head resting against your shoulder . she didn't need to explain ; didn't need to force herself to be strong . with you , being vulnerable was . . . okay .
" promise you won't run ? "
" I think you should be the one making that promise . "
manon let out a scoff , swatting your arm lightly . she was still weak to your teasing , especially since she knew deep down it was true .
" shut up , I promise . I won't run . not from you . "
" good . . thank you . "
she took a moment to savor the feeling of your body against hers , finally letting herself relax . with you , she could be soft , weak . and know that you wouldnt use it against her .
manons breath caught as you settled against her , your weight warm and comforting . she hesitated for only a second before wrapping an army around you , fingers brushing through your hair .
" this okay . . . ? "
she murmured - like she needed the confirmation that this was real , that you were real . a beat passed . then she pressed a kiss to the top of your head - softly , so softly it might of been an accident .
you nod .
" Mhm .. really nice . "
manon couldn't help the smile tugging at the corners of her lips . your easy acceptance of her affection , your softness , your warmth . . . she'd spent too long being hard , being cold , only to find out that this ? it was far more addicting than anything .
so she pulled you just the tiniest bit closer , relishing in the feeling of you pressed against her. she took a moment to memorize it all - the rise and fall of your chest , the faint smell of your shampoo . . .
once you're asleep , manon decided to tell her friends she's actually settled down for once , since she had quite the reputation of being an absolute player .
her friends were , to say the least , shocked . manon was the definition of player - cold , callous , and never settling for just one person . so when she dropped the bombshell in the group chat , they didn't believe her .
pussy destroyers ⚠︎
Manon: I have a girlfriend. dont make fun of me.
Dani: wtf??
Lara: proof or it didn't happen
Manon: no way I'm sending a pic of my girlfriend asleep on me like some sappy loser
Yoonchae: so you do cuddle?? damn
Megan: name? age? how did you not break her yet?
Manon: her name is y/n and she's amazing and perfect and shut up
Daniela: youre whipped
Lara: "perfect and amazing" lmao since when do you describe people like that
Megan: is she as bad as you?
Yoonchae: she must be if she can handle your ass
Manon: Lara you have literally met her
Lara: ohh shit is she the girl from the club?
Daniela: what does she look like
Megan: we need to see her so we can judge if she's really as perfect as you say she is
attatchment: one image
Lara: she's cute
Megan: I can see why you like her
Yoonchae: whys she smoking though
Daniela: not as hot as me though
Manon: she arguably is she's literally a model
Megan: she's a model??
Lara: does she have insta?
Yoonchae: whats her @
Manon: @username don't be weird.
Yoonchae: SHE'S SO PRETTY WTF?!
Daniela: okay fine maybe u win this one
Lara: sooo when are we meeting her?
Manon: uhh never?
Megan: we promise we won't do anything weird.
Daniela: we just need to see for ourselves if she's as good as you claim she is
Lara: we need to see if she can handle your crazy ass
Yoonchae: we can promise were not gonna scare her off or anything
Manon: Ill talk to her.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
SCENE.
notes : had to type out the texts since I ran out of images , this is my first fanfic like ever so lmk if you enjoyed!!
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