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“So, are you gonna show me?”
This is the third she asks this hour, but she really can’t stop her curiosity. Leah has been working on this assignment for English Lit for these past days, and she hasn’t given Fatin any details, despite her constant questions.
“When it’s done,” Leah doesn’t even look up while saying it, her back leaning against a pile of pillows on the bed, still determinedly typing out whatever ideas she has, with books and papers scattered around her on the bed like she’s some chaotic professor.
She looks fucking adorable, with her hair tied up in a messy bun, some strands falling in her face, and her reading glasses on. Fatin would be lying if she said that her heart didn’t melt at the sight every time, her body wanting to reach out, despite knowing that the girl is currently working on a project and should not be distracted with cuddles and kisses.
Fatin is sitting with her legs crossed over each other on the opposite end of the bed, and stares in awe at the girl she gets to call hers, “I’m getting jealous of the project if I’m being honest.”
Leah laughs and finally looks up to meet Fatin’s gaze, the clicking of the keys momentarily stopping, “Seriously?”
“I need attention,” She says while pouting and making a grabby motion with her hands.
She knows she won’t get it, but she can always try. Leah does sometimes give up the laptop in favour of cuddles and kisses, but not today.
Leah gives her a soft smile, “Patience, darling.”
Fatin groans in response, hiding the way her heart flutters at the nickname, and looks at her own homework with a helpless expression.
“It was your choice to come over, I told you I would be working on this until at least 8 pm,” Leah says, her focus returning to the laptop, fingers moving to type again.
Fatin sighs.
It’s true, she didn’t have to come here. But she really didn’t want to be at home with her fucking parents, and being apart from Leah was something she didn’t like either, so she made use of every opportunity to be around her, even when it meant waiting.
She grabs her phone and checks the time.
Half-past seven.
Jesus, she still has to wait thirty fucking minutes, which is far too fucking long. She hasn't had a kiss since five pm, and she craves Leah’s touch, but she knows she has to wait.
So, she opens her calculus book in an attempt to do some work and hopefully distract her mind from the literal goddess sitting close enough for her to hear her breathing.
She closes the book after barely ten minutes. Her mind refuses to stop reminding her of Leah’s existence, something it has been doing since they met if she’s being honest. Well, she can make calculus before class anyway.
So for now, she chooses to look at her girlfriend, who is typing furiously, her brows furrowed, eyes focused on whatever she’s working on.
Fatin studies the expressions on her face, the little things she does. Like gnawing on her lip when thinking, the way her nose wrinkles when she doesn’t like what she wrote down, the way her brows furrow when reading something she doesn’t completely understand, tapping her fingers on the side of the computer when she waits for the computer to load.
She memorizes these things, maybe out of habit, maybe out of love.
Leah smiles at the computer screen, and Fatin’s heart does that flutter thing it has been doing since they met.
How the hell did she get this lucky, sitting on Leah’s bed with her mom making dinner downstairs, already making sure to have a place set at the table for Fatin.
The island.
Before the crash, she had obviously noticed Leah. A weird art prude with a personal blonde lap dog. Well, that’s what she told herself whenever she found herself thinking about the piercing blue eyes too much. She never thought that the girl would even see something in her, let alone get close to her.
Something has always pulled her towards the girl, she just didn’t want to think about it.
On the island, that all changed.
They started out as strangers, and despite the many attempts Fatin had made to get closer to the girl (not that many if she was being honest, but she was trying and that’s what counts) they got into a fight, a big one at that. It was ugly, both of them saying things that they probably shouldn’t have said. Then the push, the blood smeared on Leah’s face, the way she walked into the water like she wasn’t herself.
God, that day was hell.
But after all that, after Fatin found the waterfall, after realizing that Leah spent the whole day looking for her, they talked. They apologized to each other, and Fatin couldn’t help but notice how adorable Leah was, the shy way she looked up, her blue eyes looking right into hers.
After their exchange of apologies, Fatin initiated a hug. A hug that was filled with tension, but not the kind that had been hanging in the air before. This was a new electricity that made the air feel like a drug whenever she was around Leah.
She couldn’t stay away from the girl, the pull only getting stronger. They were always touching, Leah laying in her lap around camp, cuddling while sleeping, her hand on Leah’s thigh whenever she needed to feel grounded.
Fatin was falling, she knew it, and she chose to ignore it.
Nine days after Leah ran into the ocean, nine days after actual hell that still caused Fatin to wake up in cold sweat sometimes, she couldn’t fucking ignore it anymore. The pull had become too strong. So, she told her by the waterfall, pouring her heart out and expecting nothing in return. Just needing to say the words, giving herself a chance to express her love without the boundaries of civilization. But, instead of the rejection she was bracing herself for, she felt lips on hers. To this day, she still refuses to admit that Leah made the first move.
After the first kiss, their bond only strengthened. While still keeping their own identity, they also became a part of each other. Two entities who need the other to survive, need the other to stay sane.
God, it has been so long since the island, and although Gretchen’s trial is still going on, everything has gone back to normal.
Well, maybe normal is the wrong word.
For her, nothing went back to normal.
Her parents barely talk to her and attempted to compensate for everything by buying her a ridiculously expensive car. It’s not that she expected anything different from them, but she still had hoped for it, and the lack of worry in their eyes had still hit her like a fucking truck.
But, she has gotten Leah’s family in return. A basic suburban family, who have a game night on Saturday, and are very involved with the local bingo night. Leah’s dad, who she still calls sir (despite him telling her to call him by his first name, Kurt), often talks to her about music, and Leah’s mother, Maryann, tells her all kinds of embarrassing stories about Leah, which Fatin then uses to annoy her with.
Sometimes she wonders how the hell these are Leah’s parents, the girl who reads literature for fun, but she honestly loves them, and maybe they kind of love her too.
Then there’s the Unsinkable Eight, who she calls as often as she can.
Toni still lives with Martha in Minnesota, and Shelby lives with Dorothy in Texas after being kicked out and Rachel and Nora still live in New York with their parents.
Martha, who sends her a picture of every dog she comes across, plus a paragraph about how nice the owner was.
Toni, who always says she doesn’t care, but still asks her advice on what kind of flowers she should get Shelby when she visits Texas.
Dorothy, who she calls daily, only to be met with a groan and a “go annoy Leah or something” (but Fatin knows she’s secretly pleased to hear her voice).
Shelby, who asks her for advice on the most random things and because of that Fatin has proclaimed herself as her personal guru.
Rachel, who occasionally texts her with a question about letting go of your “thing” (knowing that Fatin has gone through the same with the cello), and they help each other to actually enjoy life.
Nora, who sends her dirty memes that make her burst out laughing in the middle of class.
Her own little family.
The eight of them have been talking about getting an apartment in LA, and she wouldn’t be surprised if they can make it happen with whatever settlement money they might get. She would love to live with them, and she honestly kind of misses their company. They got together for Christmas, and they are planning to go house hunting in the summer vacation.
A smile forms on her face thinking about the others, but her mind drifts back to Leah.
She’s fucking glad for Leah living so close. She can’t even imagine how Shelby and Toni are coping with long-distance. Not being able to see Leah, to kiss her any time she wants, to touch her any time she wants. It would be hell.
They never left each other’s side, and so far their longest separation has been the bunker, which was fucking torture.
The memories of their reunion were vivid in her mind. The yelling through the halls, hearing Leah’s rough voice louder than anything else. Finally seeing her, looking right into those blue eyes. The arms wrapped around her within a second, the breath being knocked out of her.
“What?”
Leah’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts.
Fuck, she’s been staring at her the whole time.
She’s glad she doesn’t have pale skin, because she would be as red as the pillow on the bed.
“Nothing,” She mutters, looking down at the chemistry book in an attempt to make it look like she wasn’t staring.
Leah hums, and Fatin knows she’s smirking.
“So, what were you thinking about?”
Fatin realizes the clicking of the keyboard has stopped.
“You,” She says and stops pretending to study, looking up at Leah, who doesn’t have a smug look on her face anymore, a faint blush covering her cheeks instead.
“You’re gonna have to elaborate on that,” Leah says while she takes off her glasses.
“I was thinking about how I got so fucking lucky, having you as my girlfriend.”
Maybe she isn’t the most poetic and romantic one, but with Leah, she tries to word her feelings the best she can, and obviously in the most confident and flirty way. It looks like Fatin succeeded, seeing as the blush covering her face darkens.
Leah shoves the last papers and books off the bed and crawls towards her, grabbing her face and kissing her softly. Fatin immediately pulls her closer, smiling into the kiss. It never fails to amaze her how soft Leah’s lips are, and how relaxing her touch is.
“And you have the audacity to call me a sap,” Leah says when they break apart, foreheads still resting against each other.
“But you are a sap,” Fatin says, staring into those clear blue eyes she always seems to get lost in.
“So are you,” Leah says teasingly, and she pushes her lightly.
She chuckles, used to Leah’s antics by now, “Never said I wasn’t”
Leah opens her mouth to say something back, but Fatin cuts her off with a quick kiss and then pushes her over, causing Leah to fall onto her back, pulling Fatin with her. They end up in a giggling mess on the bed. She’s lying on top of Leah, and she can feel the rumble of her laugh in her own chest.
It feels like home.
“Seriously?” Leah says in between laughs.
She stares at her, studying her face again. Leah looks so free, so happy, and she, fatin Jadmani, is the reason. The thought makes her heart do a little jump, a feeling of security rising in her chest.
“You signed up for this when you kissed me,” Fatin says softly, still lost in thought, maybe lost in her eyes too.
“Oh? So you finally admit that I made the first move?”
Shit.
Those damn blue eyes were distracting her.
“Don’t make me say it twice,” She grumbles and hides her face in Leah’s jumper, refusing to show her to see the involuntary smile that forms on her face.
That earns her another loud laugh that bounces off the walls, echoing, and it fills her up with pure joy.
“That’s adorable,” Leah coos, while her fingers lovingly thread through Fatin’s hair.
She groans into the sweater, “Shut up Rilke, I am not adorable.”
“You totally are, and you secretly love hearing it.”
She knows that she’s right, but she refuses to admit it, so she does the next best thing and tickles her sides. Leah yelps and tries to get away, laughs filling the air again.
“So, wanna tell me what that assignment is about?” She says, temporarily stopping her assault, and instead pins Leah’s hands above her head.
“Fatin!”
“No?” She says, letting go of her wrists and starts tickling her sides again, laughs filling the air.
Leah squirms to get away, “Okay okay! Fatin!”
The discovery that Leah is extremely ticklish is something Fatin has used to her advantage since she found out, and so far it has worked every time. She smiles victoriously and rolls off of her, laying down next to her, Leah’s heavy breathing and soft giggles filling the room.
Fatin looks at her, blue eyes meeting her own, “So, tell me.”
“Why are you so curious?” Leah says a little breathlessly, reaching out to tuck a lock of Fatin’s hair behind her ear.
“Because you are being so mysterious.”
Maybe not the whole truth. Ever since she met Leah she’s had this urge to know everything about her. It wasn’t obsessive, but the need to know more was constantly there in the little things. Asking her about her first time after Never Have I Ever, reading Jeff’s book on the island when they barely knew each other, asking Leah personal questions, constantly checking in. It hasn’t really stopped. She found comfort in the trust Leah put in her.
“Okay, fine. It’s a speech,” Leah’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts.
Oh. Fatin doesn’t really know what she expected, but that does explain the slight obsession with the project, Leah isn’t a big fan of being the center of attention.
“Wow, I thought English Lit was like, for the introverts,” She jokes and Leah chuckles, “But, what is it about?”
Normally, Leah would have already told her every little detail about the project, and her own ideas on it, despite Fatin not even taking English Lit. The lack of Leah’s characteristic childlike enthusiasm confuses her more than anything.
Leah blushes and bites her lip, not meeting her gaze, “Love.”
Oh.
Damn, that explains a lot. Love means that it opens lots of emotional floodgates. Love also means that Fatin is inevitably connected to it, and maybe not a preferred sparring partner when it comes to thinking up ideas.
She stares at the side of Leah’s face, studying her expression. Her lip is still caught between her teeth, her face covered in a faint pinkish blush. She doesn’t meet her eyes, the ceiling apparently far more interesting.
“So that’s why you didn’t tell me,” She says to fill the silence that has come over them, “I'm your muse.”
Leah chuckles, “You could have asked Ian.”
Now Leah is finally looking at her again, a shy smile on her face.
The fact that she doesn’t deny the muse thing doesn’t go past her.
Fatin chuckles, it’s not like she hadn’t thought about asking Ian. She has gotten closer with him, mainly because she is forced to spend her breaks with him if she wants to spend them with Leah, but he also isn’t as bad as she thought he was, and maybe the boy really was growing on her. But asking him about Leah felt wrong in a case like this.
She kisses Leah softly, “Yeah, but I wanted to hear it from you. Trust and all that.”
“How mature of you.”
The cocky smile on Leah’s face is back, and it’s definitely doing things to her, the flutters in her chest a reminder. She still refuses to actually admit it out loud, but the effect Leah has on her is greater than any force she’s ever known. Stronger than the fucking ocean.
“Shut up, Rilke,” She mumbles, staring at the freckles on her face, and she sees the smirk grow.
“Make me.”
Within seconds, Fatin has grabbed the front of her shirt and their lips are pressed together. It’s different from the earlier innocent kisses, this time there is a hunger in it. Her body feels like it’s on fire. She climbs on top of her and deepens the kiss, while Leah tangles her fingers in her hair, pulling her even closer. Fatin's hands start wandering down, slipping under Leah’s shirt, touching the bare skin. Leah lets out a shaky sigh and-
“Dinner!”
Maryann’s voice snaps them out of their moment, and they reluctantly break apart, breathing still irregular.
“Coming!” Leah yells and Fatin bursts out laughing, rolling off of her.
“Nice choice of words, babe.”
Leah rolls her eyes and climbs off the bed, stretching her arms out to pull Fatin with her too. The gesture makes her feel even warmer than she already is, reminding her of helping Leah to get up after their first hug.
“Come on, Princess Innuendo,” Leah says, taking her hand and dragging her out of the room.
“Excuse you, I am a Queen,” She says with feigned annoyance, obligingly being dragged into the hall.
Leah giggles and gives her a quick kiss, “Sorry, Your Majesty.”
They rush down the stairs, laughing loudly. She doesn’t miss the way Maryann smiles at her when she sits down next to Leah, a proud motherly smile. The kind that her mom used to give her when she did well at a concerto.
Later, when she’s half-asleep on the couch, cuddled up against Leah’s side, the tv playing softly with some medical show Fatin didn't completely understand, and Maryann whispers to Leah, “You couldn’t have chosen a better person to bring home,” that’s when Fatin realizes that Leah’s parents love her more than her own parents do.
She isn’t even angry about it.
She just feels at home.
The days fly by, much like they have done for the past year. Dinner with the Rilke’s, fights with her parents, video calls with Dorothy, school days spent with Leah and Ian, and obviously lots of kisses and cuddles from Leah.
Fatin is sitting on her bed (again), staring at her homework, not daring to annoy her girlfriend by asking for attention. The speech is tomorrow, and she knows Leah is one big bundle of nervous energy, the tension has been building since she started working on it. The frequent gnawing of her lip, the quicker tapping of her fingers to signify more sentences being reworded, the tension in her shoulders, the rigid way she’s sitting.
It’s the way Leah acts when a project is hard, when she struggles with her perfectionism and obsession. Normally, Fatin would snatch the computer out of hands, and proofread it. Telling her what she likes, and basically reassure her that she’s fucking talented. Then they would make out, cuddle, watch a movie. Anything to get Leah’s mind off of it.
This time she can’t.
She knows the subject, and Leah hasn’t told her anything else about it.
Love is tricky.
Leah’s first relationship was with a thirty-year-old scumbag who then left the moment someone found out, and that’s bound to fuck with you.
Fatin grew up with a cheating scumbag as a father and a mother who forgave every indiscretion in the name of “marriage”.
When it comes to love, they don’t exactly have the skills, but it has worked out fine so far.
It still surprises her every day that Leah loves her.
Despite them rapidly approaching their one year of dating, it still felt foreign. Someone loving her, the real her. Not the attitude, not her looks. The real her.
That’s why it’s so important for Leah to work on it alone, without the pressure of Fatin reading it while she hasn’t worded it right.
But maybe it isn’t about her.
She tries to shake the thought, but she hasn’t been able to since it popped in her mind when Leah first told her what the project was about. She knows it’s a completely illogical and unreasonable thought, but she can’t get rid of the unease it brings.
So, she gets out her phone and texts Ian about it, asking him if he knows anything about it, and looks down at her books again.
A few dreadful minutes later, she hears her phone buzz.
So nosey, Fatin. All I can tell you is that you don’t have to worry and that you should definitely be there when she has to do the speech. 7th period.
The feeling of relief rushes through her. Thank fuck for Ian and his cryptic, yet obvious texts.
She knows she has algebra 7th period, but Jordan owes her after she helped him ditch last time, so that won’t be a problem.
She does some more homework, and scrolls through Insta a bit, but soon it’s 10 pm and Leah is still completely immersed in her speech. Her lips still caught between her teeth, probably bleeding by now. Her fingers tapping in a chaotic quick pace on her keyboard, words being deleted and retyped, the sound reminded her of watching her brothers play Street Fighter on the Xbox.
However, when Leah reaches to start pulling at her eyebrow, that’s another limit.
“Hey,” Fatin says softly, climbing towards her and grabbing Leah’s arm mid-motion, “Are you okay?”
Leah tears her eyes away from the screen and looks at her with wide eyes, seemingly not registering what is happening for a moment. Fatin carefully pulls Leah’s arm down, taking it away from doing any damage to the eyebrows, which have had too much to endure already.
She scans Leah’s face for signs, desperately trying to read her mind.
“What?” Leah asks, still confused, eyes flicking from Fatin’s face to her own arm.
“You, um-” Fatin tries to find the words to explain, not able to detect any signs of going dark, except for the blood on her lip and the fact that she was about to start pulling out her eyebrow like she does when she goes dark, “You were picking at your brow.”
Realization washes over Leah’s face, her mouth curling into a shy smile.
“And,” Fatin reaches out with a shaky hand and wipes away some blood with her thumb, “You’ve been biting on your lip again.”
“Oh.”
Fatin grabs a tissue from the nightstand and hands it over to her, trying her best to give her a small smile, despite the nauseous feeling building up in her stomach.
Leah hasn’t gone dark since the island, at least, not in the extreme way. She has had worse days, and better days, but nothing close to the way she was that day she ran into the ocean.
Leah takes the tissue and wipes her mouth, looking at her with almost childlike curiosity, “How the hell did you notice that?”
“You know,” Her voice wavers slightly, her brain trying to keep the memories locked away, “It’s a habit.”
“A habit?” There is genuine wonder in her voice, and for a moment Fatin debates telling her what she’s feeling, telling her about the terror that came over her the moment she saw her hand move up to her brow with a faraway look in her otherwise lively blue eyes, but the laptop in Leah’s lap reminds her that she has bigger things to worry about.
“Yeah, but can we please talk about you?” Fatin says and starts tracing patterns over the blanket with her fingers, trying to calm her racing mind, attempting to shut out everything that is coming back again.
“I’m fine,” Leah says and throws the tissue to the side, not really caring where it lands, “Wait, what time is it?”
“Past ten pm,” Fatin says, still looking for clues in Leah’s expression. She doesn't buy the ‘I’m fine’ thing for one second. When Leah is really focused on something, she never is fine.
“Oh. Fuck. Sorry,” Leah says, giving Fatin an apologetic smile.
“It’s okay baby,” She swallows nervously, memories of the island clawing and scratching their way out of the locked cage Fatin had banned them to, “but like seriously, are you okay?”
Now Leah looks genuinely concerned. Fuck, that’s the opposite of what she was trying to do.
The laptop is closed and put away, then she turns to face her, her eyes falling on the frantic tracing of the blanket for just a moment before meeting Fatin’s eyes again.
“I’m fine, darling, just got a little caught up in it,” Leah says, and Fatin doesn’t buy it for a second. Her expression is far too tense, and the look in her eyes far too lost. But Leah reaches out, cupping Fatin’s face, “But are you?”
Fatin isn't, she really isn't, she knows it. The demons have almost broken through the locks, some of them already slipping through, and if she’s being honest, some of them have never really been locked away. Instead, they have always been there on her shoulder, telling her to mess it up, telling her to push Leah away. She ignores them, but with the memories of that day coming back, the strong ocean pulling Leah under, it means she has to face them, that she can’t ignore the chills that run over her spine. But she can’t say that, Leah looks like she’s falling apart already, with deep blue lines under her eyes, and she refuses to be a burden.
So, she croaks out, “I’m fine,” and flashes Leah a weak attempt at a smile while ignoring the need to scream.
Leah looks at her for a moment, studying her like Fatin had done moments before, and then finally says something,
“I know that you’re lying.”
Oh for fuck’s sake, Leah’s freaky mind-reading ability, and her intricate knowledge of Fatin's behaviour are really not helping.
“You're lying too,” Fatin shoots back.
After a short-lived staring match, with a heavy quiet filling the room, Leah sighs, “Okay, fine. This project is having a bigger effect on me than I thought it would have,“ she draws in a shaky breath, her eyes don’t leave Fatin while she speaks, “Can you tell me what’s bothering you?”
It’s a fair thing to ask, a truth for a truth.
“It’s just,” She starts, her thoughts still jumbled and messy, not really knowing how the fuck she should word this, “The last time I saw you that immersed in something you-”
She can't get the words out, they die in her throat. She has talked about that day many times in therapy, admitting her feelings, saying them out loud. It didn’t stop the wave of emotion that comes over her every time she thinks about it.
So, she starts with an easier connection, something that’s kind of true, not a whole lie, “Listen, it just made me think of the book, that’s all.”
The way Leah has been obsessing over the speech had reminded her of the fucking pedo, but it didn’t bother her as much. Leah is a passionate person, who throws herself into the deep end every time she does something. It isn’t a surprise that she can seem obsessive, but that shouldn’t be connected to that fuckface Galanis.
Leah knows that, her brows knitting together in disbelief and confusion, “That isn't all.”
Well, here we fucking go.
Fatin takes a deep breath and lets her mouth do the work. Not overthinking it, just saying whatever comes to mind, “The picking at your brow, the lip-biting, the look in your eyes, those are all signs I would look for in you, analyze them, make sure that it would never happen again.”
Leah looks even more confused, but her expression is soft. She reaches forward and grabs Fatin’s arm, softly rubbing her thumb over it, “What do you mean, that it would never happen again?”
She presses her palms to her eyes trying to push down the tears. Banishing them back into her body, hoping that her hands will act as some sort of dam. She feels like she’s six years old again, telling her mom that she had a nightmare only to be scolded. The fear of vulnerability had quite literally been taught to her, both by her mom and her dad.
She inhales shakily, her chest tight, “Running into the ocean.”
Still desperately pushing back her tears into her eye sockets, she can’t see Leah’s expression, but she does hear the soft gasp.
“Oh fuck, Fatin.”
Finally stopping the battle with her tears, she lets down her arms, looking into blue eyes again. Leah looks back with pure guilt, the kind of guilt she had seen on Shelby’s face when she saw her dad again, the kind of guilt Nora had when they all found out about the experiment, the kind of guilt that becomes a monster that will eat you alive if you don’t learn to live with it, and Fatin already regrets everything she just shared.
“No, no. Not your fault, but seriously, I've gotten really good at reading you, and I can definitely predict your mood if needed, but seeing you pick at your brow, it’s something you haven't done since then,” She rambles, needing to somehow make it less heavy, to make sure that Leah doesn’t let the guilt eat her.
A small smile comes on Leah’s face, and Fatin barely contains her victory dance.
“Baby, get over here,” Leah says, shoving her stuff off of the bed and motioning for Fatin to sit in her lap. She definitely doesn’t complain about that and scrambles towards Leah to cuddle her, and she wraps her arms around her and peppers her face in kisses. Within seconds, Fatin feels warm again, the demons safely locked away behind a stronger wall.
“I love you, and I'm not leaving you, ever,” Leah whispers into her ear, “You’re stuck with me.”
Fatin’s chest feels a little less tight at those words, a smile forming on her face, “I love you too.”
Why the fuck do people stand in the middle of the hallways?
Fatin is pushing through the crowds of hipsters and posers that are spread across the school like a virus, or maybe they are more comparable to obstacles in this case, because clearly they aren’t affected by the intimidating expression on her face enough to step out of the fucking way.
After shoving people out of the way and almost throwing a swing at a particularly annoying guy, she finally reaches the classroom. She sneaks in, hoping that the teacher doesn’t notice her, and spots Ian in one of the back rows.
“There she finally is,” Ian announces loudly with a smirk, while she slips into the seat next to him. A few people look towards them with curious expressions.
“Shut up, fuckface,” Fatin whisper-yells and kicks him under the table, shooting him a glare that probably looks less intimidating than she intended it, because he just smiles. Weirdly, it reminds her of Shelby, the way she always wears a smile, even when you insult her.
“So, are you ready for this?” He says, gesturing towards the front of the room with great dramatic effect.
She rolls her eyes, but can't hide the smile that forms on her face, “Sure, drama queen.”
“Just so you know, if you cry, I will be reminding you of it for the rest of your life,” He says teasingly, his fingers drumming on the desk.
“Why did I sit down next to you again?” She says, sighing dramatically, resting her head on her arms, slumping on the desk while Mrs Wolfe walks by.
“Because you love me,” He says with a cocky grin that reminds her way too much of Toni fucking Shalifoe, a weird fondness rising in her chest.
She does, in a very much platonic way, love him. He’s funny, kind and most importantly, Leah loves him. So yeah, he technically fits Fatin’s criteria. But she’ll never fucking tell him that, she would never hear the end of it. So, she says, “I don’t have the energy for this discussion right now,” and hopes that he’ll shut up for five seconds.
He doesn’t
“I’ll take that as a confirmation,” He says and looks to the front of the class when suddenly, excitement flashes over his face.
Fatin looks up too, and meets ocean blue eyes. Leah’s brows are raised expectantly as if she wants a telepathic explanation for her being here. So, Fatin just smirks back, and a faint blush spreads over Leah’s cheeks as she nervously refolds her papers.
Truth be told, she’s here for many reasons.
She’s here because she knows that Leah hates public speaking, and a familiar face in the crowd might just do the trick.
She’s here because Ian told her to be, and she trusts him with her whole heart.
She’s here because she’s curious what Leah has written about her, curious to know what she has been working on for so long.
She’s here because she knows how important this speech is to Leah.
All of those things come down to the same thing: She’s here because she loves Leah.
So, she sits a little straighter in her seat and stares at Leah take place behind the lectern.
“Hello everybody,” Leah says, her weight shifting from one foot to the other, her eyes scanning the room until they come to rest on Fatin, and they don’t leave her again,
“So, if I had been assigned this speech when I was younger,
I probably would have told you something about,
the beauty and the gracefulness of love,
I believed in a perfect love story,
where I would one day meet prince charming,
and that we would live happily ever after,
away from pain and harm,
maybe I would have quoted Jane Austen,
my copy of Pride and Prejudice read from front to back.
If I had been assigned this speech a year ago,
I would have told you about how miserable,
painful and sickening love is,
this ugly feeling of wanting to love,
and wanting to be loved back,
I would have told you that it never ends well,
and that it should be avoided at all costs,
maybe I would have quoted Sylvia Plath,
my copy of the Bell Jar read from front to back.
But I was assigned this speech now,
not in the naiveness or pain of the past,
and all people grow and evolve,
their experiences shaping them,
and who I am now, is someone who
believes that love exists.
Not perfect love, not the kind
that Hollywood makes you yearn for,
but the kind that makes the pain worth it,
because all you want is to see their face
every day, all the time,
all you want is to touch them,
to be close to them for centuries to come,
never getting sick of it,
the kind of love that doesn’t fade,
the darkness never taking over,
instead, a light shines, their light,
like a sun, and with everything in you,
you try to be the moon that balances them out,
and even when your tides are stronger,
or their light is a little paler, it’s still worth it,
because you're both still right there,
holding each other, lighting up the fire,
or calming down the waves.
It’s locked away in your very being,
their touch that calms you in an instant,
the way they read you like their favourite book,
the softness when they smile at you,
the deep brown colour of their eyes,
that makes you feel like you never really saw,
brown before the moment you looked at them,
them falling asleep in your lap late at night,
the tenderness of holding their hand,
maybe it is meant to be, as long as you fight for it,
as long as you're willing, it can be your own fate,
making your own destiny as you go along,
making your own destiny because of them,
because you need them to be there,
and I believe in that, I believe that my destiny is with her.”
The class erupts into applause, Ian whistling obnoxiously.
Fatin will definitely deny it every time Ian brings it up, but she is crying. The eye contact the entire time, the entire speech essentially being about her, all of it causes an emotional overload in her brain as if too much dopamine has been released by accident.
So, she’s smiling and crying, and she’s staring at Leah, who has a dopey grin on her face while she walks to the row where she and Ian are sitting.
She slides into the desk and Fatin immediately presses her lips to hers, not caring about the PDA and not caring about Ian who literally is sitting a few feet away. She needs some kind of release, a way to express herself without saying anything.
When they break apart, she leans her head on Leah’s shoulder, placing her hand on her thigh.
“I love you so fucking much,” Fatin whispers into her ear while another kid takes the stage, her body in complete turmoil, still processing the proclamation of love in front of a whole class, still processing that she was the reason that Leah’s eyes had been glued to the screen.
“I love you too.”
Ian doesn’t say anything the rest of the lesson, not making fun of them for once, just flashing Leah a proud, almost fatherly smile. And fuck, it reminds her of Dorothy, and the smile she had flashed Fatin when they told the group about their relationship.
When they get home, she kisses Leah with everything she has in her, pressing her against the wall as soon as she fucking can.
That’s when the realisation dawns on her that she’s the luckiest person on this whole messed-up planet, and she won’t ever fuck that up.