Chapter Text
twenty
Driver climbs out of his car, across the street from the address Cassian gave him. He didn’t expect Cassian, of all people, to host a party, much less one where enough people are coming for cars to completely block off the driveway.
After crossing the street, he knocks on the door and as the door swings open, is immediately bombarded by an older blond man.
“Hey, glad you could make it! Haven’t seen you around before, are you one of Yuri’s friends?” He’s wearing fake ears in an obvious attempt at a werewolf costume, and a red plastic cup sits in the hand that’s not holding the door.
When Cassian first told him he was hosting a New Year’s party, and a costume one at that, Driver was skeptical. Very skeptical. But after seeing this guy in the doorway, he realizes it was probably not his idea.
“Nah, one of Cassian’s, actually,” Driver responds, tucking his hands into his pockets as he thinks back to the times Cassian has talked about his siblings. This must be Jeff, his older brother, and Yuri is probably the name of his sister. Absent-mindedly, he wonders if their younger brother, Gangu, happens to be there tonight too.
“You’re one of Cassian’s friends? Glad to hear he’s talking to people other than us. Come on in!”
Driver nods at him, smiling. “Thanks, man.” His eyes scan the room as he walks in, hoping to spot either Cassian or Red Eye or someone else he knows.
But instead, he finds himself constantly turning back to look at one person: a woman with a black mask.
The person she was talking to just walked away, and it’s not like Driver knows anyone here besides Red Eye and Cassian - who he hasn’t found anyways - so he walks up to her.
“Hey. I saw you when I came in and I wanted to, uh,” he fumbles for a conversation topic that’s much less creepy than I keep looking at you .
Now that he’s closer to her, he realizes, her mask is more than just black fabric. It almost looks like an old plague doctor mask, with a crow’s beak and detailed with delicate golden stitching. A white cardigan hangs off her shoulders over a sleeveless skintight black jumpsuit. “What are you dressed as?” he asks, mouth moving before he can think it through.
He hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but her outfit poked at his curiosity. Despite its evidently impressive craftsmanship, it doesn’t look like a costume.
“Hmm.. up to you!~ I didn’t want to dress up, but I thought I should at least wear a mask. What about you?”
“Mechanic. But confession? I just wanted to wear my goggles outside of classes.”
“Oh? Are you an engineering major?” She gives him a look over, nodding as she does so. “Good color matching, by the way.”
“Thanks. Ah, yeah, I’m an engineering major. You?”
“Design; we’re on opposite sides of campus, unfortunately.” She lets out a sigh, sounding a lot more disappointed than she should be considering they had just met.
“Design major, and you couldn't tell I was a mechanic? I thought I was pretty obvious,” Driver pouts as she giggles.
Driver’s never gotten along well with other people. A lifetime of being remembered as “the kid who blew up the school computer lab” will do that to you, and he’s always considered himself uncharismatic to boot.
But with this woman, it’s different. Teasing remarks came naturally, the expected awkwardness from such familiarity with a stranger nowhere to be found. And she responds in turn, banter flowing smoothly between the two.
“Oh shoot, it’s 11:59!” The murmur comes from somewhere in the crowd, and judging by the sudden increase in movement around the room, Driver wasn’t the only one to hear it.
He turns back to the woman he has been talking with for the last few hours. Time really flies when you’re having fun, especially with someone he feels so comfortable with.
“Soulmate?” He doesn't specify, but he doesn't need to. Everyone else has started to run off forming into pairs and small groups as the clock ticks down to midnight.
10!
She flinches, barely visible, before catching herself. “No. You?” Her stance is casual, but her voice holds a slightly uncertain tone.
9!
Driver gets it. He hates telling people he doesn’t have a soulmate. It may be factually accurate, but it’s never felt like the right thing to say.
8!
“Nope,” he responds, ignoring the bitter taste the word leaves on his tongue. But the meaning is still there: neither of them has anyone else to be with this evening.
7!
Her eyes glance down, and he feels her gaze against his lips. Suddenly, his throat feels dry and he has to fight back the urge to wipe his palms against his pants.
6!
Are we really doing this? he wants to ask. Instead, he reaches for his face to pull up his goggles. She reaches for her mask in turn, pulling it down to rest around her neck and over her chest.
5!
The light in her eyes is familiar. Driver can’t quite place it, and he’s definitely staring at this point, but he knows he’s seen that twinkle somewhere before.
4!
“Like what you see?” Fireworks go off in the background, the colorful lights shining through the window and illuminating her cheeky smile. It puts him at ease, and he smirks back at her.
3!
“Very.” He can’t remember why he was nervous anymore. She makes him feel safe in a way no one ever has, like a childhood friend or a long-time lover. He’d question it more if it didn’t feel so right . If she didn’t feel so right.
2!
Her gloved hand is warm against his chin, tilting his face up to meet hers. His fingers intertwine with her free hand, and his other hand comes up to rest against her elbow.
1!
Her lips are soft, and she tastes like home.
————————
Driver stands at an ocean shore.
But today isn’t Crow’s birthday. He’s ready to wave it off as a regular dream, albeit a bit of a weird one, when he turns around and sees her.
Crow looks just as confused as he does, but he can’t dwell on that for long as the memories of earlier that night flood back to him.
No wonder he was so drawn to a “stranger.” He’d be drawn to Crow no matter what.
She walks over to stand next to him. If it were anyone else, it would be awkward. After all, what do you say to someone who just kissed you, after only knowing each other for a few hours?
But they’ve known each other much longer than a few hours. And it’s not anyone else. It’s Crow. His best friend for eleven years; he’s known her for longer than he hasn’t. His soulmate, but more importantly, the only person he’s ever been in love with, ever since he was old enough to understand what being in love was.
He reaches his hand out to her, and she takes it.
“Why?” Why did you kiss me? The rest of the question is left unsaid.
She smiles at him, uncharacteristically soft. “It just felt right. You… you feel right.”
It’s not a direct confession.
But it doesn’t have to be.
————————
Driver curses, swiping his keys off of his desk. He stayed up way too late last night, and now he’s paying the price. What kind of class continues to run even on New Year’s? That’s gotta be illegal or something.
Honestly, he should have dropped that class the second he saw the syllabus. Still, to give himself some credit, it’s not like he expected to attend a New Year’s party, much less even be invited to one.
As he gives his room one more glance over, his eyes stop against his desk, where a set of blueprints sit. It’s blueprints for a bird drone, specifically of a crow. He had the idea since he was a kid -- not sure from where -- but it always reminded him of conspiracy posts about the government spying on people through pigeons. Somehow, his childhood passion project feels a little more important now than it felt last night.
He shakes his head. No time to think about that, unless he wants to be late for class. Driver rushes out of the building and onto the path toward the science building. He looks up, just to make sure he’s on the right path to his classroom, and freezes.
That’s her.
The woman from the party yesterday.
She’s nursing a drink in one hand and scrolling through her phone in the other, and her short black hair curls around her cheeks from under a white sunhat. Around her shoulders is the same white cardigan she wore last night; if he squints, he can still see the glitter on it from yesterday’s mask.
He wants to call out for her, but… well, it was definitely an oversight of his not to ask for her name. And, admittedly, he’s a little nervous. What do you say to someone who kissed you after only knowing each other for a few hours? Instead, he power walks the last stretch of his route to class.
Red Eye waves him over the second Driver enters the classroom, and Driver walks across the room to fall into the seat next to him, head slamming against the desk.
“Late night, huh?” Red Eye laughs, leaning his elbow against the table and patting him on the back.
Still dazed from earlier, Driver barely registers the question and responds with a muffled, “..yeah.”
“Where even were you last night, man? I thought you would be at Cassian’s -- wait, no, it was his brother’s party. But anyways, I didn’t see you.”
“I was there,” Driver responds, yawning as he lifts his head from the table. Actually, now that he thinks about it, Red Eye knows more people than he does. “Ran into someone though. Tall, black bob, brown eyes. Do you know her?”
“Anyone is tall to you, Driver-”
“Hey!”
“-but it sounds like you could be describing- oh, there she is right now. I didn’t know she was transferred into our class.”
Driver whips his head towards the doorway, and sure enough, that’s her. She’s saying something to the professor, hands holding onto the straps of a purple messenger bag.
She turns around, the conversation clearly over, and her eyes meet his. The world slows down as she makes her way across the classroom, walking toward him.
“It’s nice to finally meet you properly,” she drawls, as she comes to a stop in front of him. “My name is Crow.”
And suddenly his world lights up and he knows. He knows her; the tilt of her head, the cusp of her lip, the stars in her eyes, every strand of her hair. Her hopes, her dreams, her hobbies, her passions, her loves. Every moment with Crow, dreamscape or not, flashes through his mind.
He smirks. “That’s a weird name.”
Crow rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah? Then what’s your name?”
“Driver.” Crow freezes. Her eyes widen in recognition, and he knows, that she knows too.
“You can’t call my name weird,” she retorts, but her voice has no heat to it. Rather, it almost sounds like she’s trying not to laugh. “Your name is weirder than mine.”
He takes a deep breath, and reaches across the desk, hooking his hand into the collar of Crow’s shirt. A leap of faith, ignoring the way his heart is trying to beat out of his chest and the pounding of blood in his ears.
He pulls her face down to meet his, crashing their lips together. She tastes like iced coffee and lavender, energizing and relaxing all at once. Crow’s hair tickles his cheek, and he can make out the vanilla scent of her shampoo. Her hands fall to his shoulders, and Driver takes the opening to wrap his arms around her neck.
“Ew. Get a room, you two,” Red Eye grumbles from his left. Driver had honestly forgotten he was there.
As Driver pulls away -- because unfortunately, oxygen is a requirement for survival -- he gets a good look at her face. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Crow look so uncharacteristically speechless.
“Wh- what?”
“You feel right to me too,” he smiles. He knows he doesn’t have to clarify.
twenty-three (epilogue)
Crow takes a few steps back, nodding appreciatively at the room arrangement.
“What do you think, darling?” She turns to Driver, who… has not looked up from his desk. She pouts. “Driver~ If you just wanted me to decorate your workshop for you, you could’ve just asked me flat out.”
“Sorry, babe,” he responds offhandedly, focus still on his project. Earlier, when Driver had asked her to help him redecorate his workshop, she had expected more working together. However, when they walked into the room, he got immediately distracted by something on his desk.
Crow sighs. She just wanted to spend some quality time with her boyfriend. At least the room is decorated nicely. The wall of tools is organized, ordered from smallest to biggest, and a whiteboard hangs on the wall for Driver to jot down ideas on. In the corner, there are two purple couches with a small table between them; a photo of her and Driver sitting on top.
Driver suddenly slams his hands on his desk, jumping up. “Got it!” He turns to Crow, and all of her irritation fades away when she sees the passion and enthusiasm etched across his face.
He turns around to face her, scooping up something from his desk, and sitting in his hands is a black drone in imitation of a crow, as well as a small remote.
“This is for you!” He presses a button on the remote and the drone whirls to life, wings flapping up until it flies over to sit on Crow’s shoulder.
“Awww!~ It’s so cute! What’s his name?”
“Hmm, how about Little Crow?” Crow laughs inwardly. Looks like Driver’s naming skills haven’t gotten much better.
Still, it’s endearing, short, and fast to catch on, so… “Little Crow it is!”
Driver twirls his screwdriver in his hand, satisfied. “It’s not exactly 10 years' worth of birthday gifts yet, but it’s a start.” He sits back down in his chair and smiles cheekily at her. “Now it’s my turn, right? I make you something, you make me something.”
Crow smiles at the enthusiasm that sparkles in his eyes. She’s not sure how she lived for 20 years without him — besides the dream meetings, that is.
She thinks back to being thirteen; young and dreaming. When she woke up on the day after her birthday with a design in her head and nonsense measurements and the conviction to create . A purple short-sleeved jacket hanging in her room for years, with no wearer, no purpose. Walking into her dorm room after one particular class and seeing the jacket hang off her coat rack, realizing where the design came from but more importantly, finally knowing, for the first time, who it was for.
Driver has always been her inspiration, consciously or not.
He’s still looking at her expectantly, so she reaches into her bag and pulls out the mass of folded purple fabric. Crow gestures for him to turn around and he obliges, holding out his arms.
The short sleeves slide up the dark purple of his turtleneck, and she carefully tucks the collar around his neck. A pocket on each sleeve, one at his right breast, two at the sides, and even inside pockets to top it all off. A godsend for an engineering major.
Driver turns back to face her and does a little twirl, fabric spinning around him. “Hey, you got my size right!”
“Of course I did!” Crow pouts at him indignantly. “Only the best for you, dear.”
He smiles cheekily back at her, before leaning in to press his lips to her own. The pout slides off her face, and she can feel himself smiling into his mouth, warm and inviting.
“Thank you,” he whispers as he pulls away, breath trailing over her mouth.
“ No,” she responds breathlessly, pressing her forehead against his. “Thank you.”