Work Text:
The dark surrounds them, only the moon as a silver light in the sky. They all sit around the fire, eight figures huddled up illuminated by the oranges and reds while the flames lick the cold air. Laughs fill the air, a jarring contrast with everything that has happened, but the black of the night covers up the violence, making it seem like they are just eight teenage girls having a fun beach party.
But they aren’t. They’ve been stranded here for exactly forty days. Forty days filled with pain, trauma, and sketchy situations that make Leah wonder what actually is going on here.
Fatin and Shelby decided that surviving for so long– nobody wanted to mention that Jeannette didn’t survive, but everyone thought it– calls for a celebration. A “Thank fuck we’re still alive” party to directly quote Fatin from earlier that day. So, the stash of vodka was grabbed from Dot’s inventory and they chose to use this night to forget the severity of their situation and to just be teenagers for once.
Everyone agreed, no one having the energy to argue, and they also had to admit that they needed a pick me up.
Leah had been the most hesitant to agree, but then Fatin pouted and her resolve just crumbled like a sandcastle within a second, suddenly– albeit while faking an annoyed expression– agreeing with the idea (only to then meet Toni’s eyes and see a knowing smirk on her face, which she pointedly ignored by looking at the sand).
So now they are gathered in a circle, all of them pleasantly buzzed by the alcohol. She is sitting next to Fatin, and every time one of them moves, their arms brush together, which makes her feel glad that she has the fire as an excuse for how red her face is.
Right across from her, Shelby is sitting on a piece of driftwood with Toni in her lap, both of them sending her a pitying look when Fatin went on another tangent about how much she misses sex.
“You know my answer,” Dot– who is leaning on Marcus, sitting between Fatin and Martha– says, shaking her head and taking another sip from the bottle, “I won’t fuck you, no matter how desperate I am.”
“Damn Dorothy, let a girl down easy,” Fatin says, feigning offence at the rejection.
“Maybe,” Toni starts with a twinkling in her eyes Leah doesn’t trust at all, “You should broaden your options. Dot isn’t the only one here.”
“You’re right, Shalifoe,” Fatin says, turning to Leah –whose brain is malfunctioning from just the sudden closeness– while smiling like the Cheshire cat, “Leah darling, my literature nerd, I am offering you the best you’ll ever have.”
The words just left Fatin’s mouth so naturally, like she didn’t have to think about it, like she just knows how to make her flustered. Leah is pretty sure her face is currently red enough for it to be visible to everyone, and she can’t come up with anything to say because her brain chooses to focus on how much of them is touching.
“Jesus, stop the flirting,” Rachel says, breaking the moment– subsequently saving Leah from whatever that was – and getting up to snag the bottle from Dot’s hands, “Shelby, why don’t you suggest some games or something?”
Never in her life has she been so grateful for an interruption, and she immediately turns her attention to Shelby, refusing to meet Fatin’s eyes.
“Well, do any of y’all want to play Two truths and a lie ?” Shelby says with an excited smile, and she’s met with a chorus of agreement.
“Okay but not all bullshit things like favourite colour, you have to at least mention one big thing,” Toni says, giving Martha a stern look, to which she just shrugs with a small smile on her face.
“I second that Shalifoe,” Fatin chimes in, “I want to hear the juicy secrets.”
“I’ll start,” Dot says, sitting up instead of being sprawled over Marcus, “I once decked a boy in the face in eighth grade, I’ve been black-out drunk, and my favourite song is a Christmas carol.”
“The last one has to be the lie,” Fatin says. Shelby and Toni nod in agreement and Fatin smirks confidently (it definitely makes Leah feel butterflies).
“I think it’s the first one, Dot seems the pacifist type,” Nora says, and Martha and Rachel agree. A proud smile comes onto Nora’s face when she sees Rachel nodding.
“Well, I think the black-out drunk one is the lie,” Leah ventures, “You said you never went to parties.”
No one shows signs of agreement, but Dot meets her eyes for a split second.
After a short moment of silence, they all turn to Dot and wait expectantly for the answer. She is unreadable, just staring back at them with an impressive poker face.
“So,” she starts, a grin forming on her face, “Leah’s right.”
The others stare at Dot in shock, Fatin’s jaw dropping, “Excuse you, a Christmas carol?”
“Who the fuck did you deck in the face?” Rachel asks, a confused yet impressed expression on her face.
“Brian McNeal in fifth grade, he was bullying,” Shelby starts excitedly, but her voice falters and Toni lays a reassuring hand on her arm, “someone.”
Fatin interrupts, “Yes, of course you’d deck someone, but a Christmas carol? What the fuck Dorothy.”
Dot just smiles at the sand, it’s a reminiscent smile filled with nostalgia, “Not very heavy metal of me, right?”
“Congrats on getting it right, Leah,” Martha says, her loving grin turning into a smirk quickly, “but that means that it’s your turn.”
“Yeah Leah,” Fatin says teasingly. She lays a hand on her thigh– Leah’s brain short circuits again and she tries her best not to focus on the tingling sensation spreading through her body– and leans even closer, “It’s your turn.”
While her body feels like it’s on fire (something that somehow isn’t caused by the flames a few feet away), she needs to come up with something that will actually elicit a response, not something boring, and she’s glad for the alcohol in her system because it shuts out the embarrassment she would normally feel.
“You wanted juicy, right?” Leah says confidently, and excitement fills the faces surrounding her, so she continues, “My first time was in a five-star hotel, I’ve never been hit by a car, and in freshman year I sent someone a very poetic letter telling them to get out of my school.”
The hand on her thigh tenses just slightly. Leah turns to meet Fatin’s eyes. Her mouth is agape, her expression unreadable. Leah just shrugs at her– where the sudden confidence comes from, she has no idea– and looks back at the group. All the others look both shocked, and invested in figuring out what the lie is.
“The first one has to be the-” Toni starts, but she’s cut off by Fatin.
“That was you?!”
She turns towards Fatin, meeting her eyes again. This time, it is very clear that she looks impressed yet confused, and Leah just responds with an eyebrow raise.
“How the fuck did you get Betty to take the fall for you?”
Leah laughs, that had been the easiest part, “Wrote all of her essays the rest of the year.”
“Okay, are you going to explain what the fuck you’re talking about?” Rachel interrupts.
Leah looks at the group and is met by confused expressions.
“Apparently, Leah wrote that fucking letter to me.” Fatin answers for her, and Leah can just imagine the cogs in Fatin’s head turning, trying to figure out why, while being too proud to ask.
“Damn,” Dot says, while most look shocked yet intrigued.
“Wait, so what was the lie?” Toni says.
“The second one,” Fatin answers for her again, “Leah got hit by a car last year.”
“How the fuck do you know that?” Leah says, genuinely confused. She’d never seen Fatin notice her, ever. Only in her dreams, “I thought you had no idea who I was.”
“Well I thought you never paid attention to me either, but as it turns out, you wrote me a letter.”
“Yeah, you’ll have to wait for an explanation till we play Truth or Dare again,” Leah says with more confidence than she’s ever had, “Pass me the bottle, Rach.”
To that Rachel grins and hands her the vodka. After she takes a gulp of the liquor and it burns her throat, Fatin is still looking at her with an expression Leah has never seen before. A mix of so many emotions that she can’t figure out what it means.
The rest of the night is filled with secrets being shared through the game.
Leah learns so many things.
Like how Toni once smashed a windshield, that her ex-girlfriend’s dad once walked in on them mid-action, and that she actually cries when watching Bambi (apparently this is something Martha already knew, and she has often used to blackmail Toni into things).
Or how Martha is very good at dancing, she believed in Santa Clause up to the age of twelve, and she actually squabbles with her siblings a lot (this one surprises Leah the most, same for Dot, but the rest just nods like it’s logical).
That Rachel once hit her her head on a diving board (everyone winces when Nora tells the story), that her favourite movie is some pretentious black and white movie– even Leah doesn’t know it– she always used to watch with Nora, and that she had a small crush on someone when she was eight and instead of telling him she pushed him off the swing, which caused him to break his arm.
Nora reveals that she once spray-painted on a statue (even Rachel didn’t know this, but after Nora says “with Quinn” the expression on Rachel’s face turns to a pained one, only for Nora to grab her arm and whisper something Leah can’t hear), that she’s been to more than ten plays in her life, and that she has never cried during a movie.
Shelby had burst out laughing at the spray painting, only to later reveal that she once vandalized a car (Leah has never seen Toni look so in love). She also revealed that she actually sucks at bowling and that her first celebrity crush was Tony Romo.
Now it’s Fatin’s turn, and Leah has been dreading this, but she also wants to hear it because she’s made it this mission to know everything about Fatin, every detail, no matter how small or insignificant. This “mission” had unconsciously started in freshman year, but it slowly faded away and she pretended it never happened. Jeff came in and she really thought this was all just an embarrassing memory, but now, stranded on an island with Fatin– being closer than ever before, having her as her anchor to keep her from becoming untethered– her crush has come back full swing.
To make matters worse (or better, depending on perspective), Fatin’s hand hasn’t left her thigh, and it takes everything in Leah not to lay her hand over it and intertwine their fingers. This whole time she’s been sneaking glances at Fatin, marvelling at how beautiful she looks in the light of the fire.
“My turn and you all know I’ll make this worth your time,” Fatin says, winking at Dot who just rolls her eyes– while doing this she also removes her hand from Leah’s thigh, cool air touching her skin again– but then Fatin’s confidence falters slightly and she looks away when she starts talking, “A guy once left mid-hook-up because he had a curfew, I’ve fucked as many girls as guys, and in sophomore year I once embarrassed myself because I got lost in someone’s eyes while I had to answer a question.”
It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but when they do Leah’s mind reels. A very specific memory pops in her head.
English. Mrs Wolfe. Turning around to look at who had to answer. Meeting brown eyes. The girl a stuttering mess.
Leah doesn’t hear what the others say, she only sees Fatin. She looks more vulnerable than she’s ever been, avoiding Leah’s eyes while her fingers draw patterns in the sand.
“The second one is the lie,” Leah says quietly, but still the others stop talking. She feels the eyes on her, but she can’t bother to be flustered about it. All that matters is that Fatin refuses to meet her eyes and looks so shy.
With the buzz of the vodka and the ego boost that admission just gave her, the only logical thing seems to be to tease Fatin about it.
“Fatin Jadmani, are you saying you got distracted by my eyes?”
That makes Fatin finally look at her, sending her a glare, “Shut up.”
Her smirk only grows and she leans back a bit, focusing on Fatin’s body language, “Seriously?”
Fatin ignores her but her entire composure has faltered, “Shelby, give me the bottle.”
Shelby gets up and hands her the vodka with a knowing smile and Toni leans to Nora, whispering something Leah can’t make out, but it makes Nora double over laughing.
While Fatin chugs a gulp that seems way too big, Leah has another terrible idea she would probably regret tomorrow in the sunlight with a sobered mind, but right now she doesn’t care about the consequences. She boldly lays her hand on Fatin’s thigh and leans close, whispering, “Let’s talk about that tomorrow,” in her ear, and Fatin basically chokes on her drink, causing everyone to burst into laughter.
“Get it, Leah!” Toni yells while Martha and Shelby dissolve into giggles at how unfiltered Toni is when drunk.
“Okay, I’m going to sleep because I do not want to see more of that ,” Rachel says while getting up.
They exchange goodnights, and after some more meaningless chatter, everyone else also goes to bed. It is exactly like every night, except for one thing. That one thing is that Fatin ignores their newfound habit of cuddling– it always calms Leah’s mind, keeping her grounded through the night– and instead chooses to sleep a few feet away from her.
At that moment, it doesn’t bother Leah. Her mind has been calmed by the alcohol. But when she wakes up on the cold sand the next morning, and the light clouds her vision while trying to gauge her surroundings, her brain decides to start spinning immediately. Reminding her of everything that happened last night, and the implications she left lingering despite not knowing what Fatin actually feels.
All that seemed like bravery then, seems foolish and stupid now. What does Fatin think? Does Fatin even have feelings? Getting lost in someone’s eyes once does not leave enough evidence for the conclusions she had jumped to last night. Panic clenches her chest uncomfortably, especially with Fatin not lying next to her, but a few feet away instead. It should feel like just a small distance, but for her, it feels like a physical representation of the tear she might have caused last night.
While everyone around her wakes up, equally disoriented, she can’t focus on anything they’re saying. Only how she could have read things wrong. She has a habit of doing that, misreading conversations, pulling situations out of proportion. She’s been told many times to stop overthinking things, like it’s so easy. Like she can just turn it off.
The reality is that she can’t.
Around Fatin, her mind tends to do it less, her presence calming the sound of her thoughts to a distant lull. It also helps that Fatin knows how to read her. She knows the little things no one has ever cared enough to notice, or cared enough to do something about. She always knows exactly what Leah needs, and it’s comfortable. It’s safe .
Has she messed it up? It was bound to happen eventually. Fatin getting tired of her, leaving. Being done with her never stopping theories and thoughts. Being done with dragging the weight of her around.
Before she can spiral any further, she sees Fatin waking up disgruntled, sitting up while holding an arm over her head to block the sunlight.
Leah holds her breath, her eyes not leaving her, but then Fatin looks her way and locks eyes with her, and suddenly the air is filling her lungs again. There is a fear in Fatin’s expression, like she’s the one who messed up. The sounds of conversation fill the air around them, but it feels like they are in an impenetrable bubble for a moment, only seeing each other. Trying to send reassurance to the other telepathically, hoping that they will understand.
The bubble is pierced by Dot, “Leah, you haven’t placed your rock.”
Her eyes snap to her, looking at Dot and noting how she’s way too awake for how much she drank last night.
“Yeah, right,” she mumbles, getting up and walking up to the chore board. When she picks up her own pebble, she’s left staring at the rock that has Fatin written on it laying under “ water duty ”. She has a choice. She can either do the washing with Shelby (the only other empty space on the task board) or she can spend her day with Fatin, being forced to talk about the tension that makes her skin itch.
Mustering up her courage, she places it under Fatin’s stone with shaky hands and starts walking back to her spot, hoping the unease on her face isn’t too obvious. She remembers the fear in the brown eyes just a minute ago and hopes she hasn’t misread that.
When she sits back down on the sand, Fatin seems to be back to normal, talking loudly about how great last night was, and how she’s the one they should all be thanking.
“She’s right, it was amazing,” Toni says, only for Martha to groan.
“Don’t encourage her Toni,” she says, heels of her palms pressed to her eyes.
“We don’t want her ego to get even bigger,” Rachel says, already up and walking around like she’s been awake for hours.
“I’m pretty sure it can’t get bigger,” Nora adds with a smile.
Fatin puts a hand to her own chest dramatically, looking offended, “I make sure you all have a great time, and this is the thanks I get?”
“You’re not giving Shelby any credit,” Dot says, doing God knows what with the stuff in the inventory, “It wasn’t just your idea.”
“But baby, we both know I’m the star of the show,” Fatin says, blowing her a kiss.
Everyone groans in response, while Toni laughs loudly (when she got close with Fatin, Leah has no idea).
At that, Leah gets up and walks to Fatin– who’s sitting on her suitcase–, standing still in front of her while holding out her arms, “Don’t make me regret putting my rock under water duty.”
For a few seconds Fatin just freezes and stares at Leah’s hands like they are foreign objects, before snapping back to reality and letting Leah pull her up, “Oh darling, you know you’ll never regret me.”
She rolls her eyes in response, but the way Fatin says “darling” makes her feel a certain way, “You’ll have to prove that before I believe you.”
They grab the things they need and get ready for the journey. The energy hangs between them like an invisible wall, and Leah doesn’t know if will electrocute her, or if she can pass through it without getting burned.
Just before they leave, Rachel stops them with a serious expression.
“I have one very important thing to tell you.”
Everyone quiets down, wanting to hear what Rachel is about to say. They all wear equally confused and interested expressions, eyes all on her.
Rachel lays her hand on Leah’s shoulder, her face even more solemn than before, “One rule. No fucking in the water.”
The others all lose it, doubling over with laughter while Rachel also loses her serious composure and starts laughing too, dropping the hand from Leah’s shoulder.
Leah’s pretty sure her face is redder than a tomato, and she looks to Fatin only to see that she’s incredibly tense, her body language telling Leah that she’s ready to jump Rachel. And she doesn’t feel like watching Rachel get her nose broken, so she mumbles, “Sure,” and grabs Fatin’s arm to drag her away from the beach.
The moment they walk into the woods, Fatin starts ranting about it.
“Who does she fucking think she is? Saying shit like that. It’s none of her fucking business and she has the audacity to-”
Leah cuts her off, “You’d say the same to Toni and Shelby.”
“Yeah but that’s different.”
“How?”
Fatin stops walking and turns to her, her jaw clenches and her eyebrows furrowed, “You’re seriously taking her side?”
Leah sighs, “Why does what she said bother you so much? You make jokes like that all the time.”
“Because I would never do it,” Fatin says, but the anger seems to be replaced by vulnerability.
“You would never do what?”
Fatin crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes cast downwards, “I would never fuck you.”
Leah would love to pretend that her words didn’t break her heart into tiny pieces, but she can barely utter a single word back without getting choked up, everything that happened yesterday entering her mind again. A reminder that she once again misread something. After a short silence, she manages a joyless chuckle, “Damn, let a girl down easy.”
At that, Fatin’s eyes shoot up, pure panic in them, “No, not like,” her voice falters, “Not like that.”
Leah looks at her expectantly, waiting for a clarification, but Fatin just shakes her head and avoids her eyes again.
“Okay, let’s keep walking,” she says eventually when Fatin doesn’t say anything else.
“Right,” Fatin says, falling in step beside her, “I just meant that I wouldn’t just like, fuck you, like without meaning.”
Oh.
All the dots have connected now, she has proof that her mind hasn’t been making things up, but for Fatin, it might not be clear, which leaves the task of making the first move to Leah.
They walk in silence, while the energy hangs between them like an invisible string constantly reminding them of how much they need the other.
Leah is the one to break it, “I don’t want to steal Shelby’s thing , but do you want to play truth for a truth? Like, you can ask me a question and I have to answer honestly.”
“Sure,” Fatin says, inhaling shakily like she expected her to say something else, “Why did you write that letter?”
Leah answers without missing a beat, “Because I had a crush on you and I had no idea how to deal with it.”
That stops Fatin dead in her tracks, gaping at Leah like she just admitted to committing murder.
She opens and closes her mouth again, trying to say something and giving it up, and Leah just stares at her, waiting expectantly.
“Fuck,” is all she says, pushing her hair out of her face, still looking completely caught off guard by the confession, “Normally I could have made fun of you.”
“But now you can’t?” she asks, biting her lip out of habit, wondering what Fatin’s thinking.
She shakes her head in response, chuckling, “When the fuck did you get so damn confident?”
Leah laughs loudly, “When did you get so damn shy?”
“Excuse you? I am not shy,” Fatin says, clearly offended, stepping closer.
Leah steps closer too, and their faces are only inches away. Her body aches to be closer, and judging by the way Fatin very obviously checks her out, she feels the same.
“I still get to ask you a question,” she whispers in the space between them.
“Go for it,” Fatin whispers back, her confidence recovered.
“Can I kiss you?”
Fatin’s eyes widen, then they fall on her lips, and Leah bites on her bottom lip automatically.
“Yes.”
She immediately rushes forward and closes the gap between them, one of her hands tangling in Fatin’s hair, the other one resting on her cheek, while Fatin pulls her even closer with her hands on her hips. Every single one of her nerve endings feels alive, and yet it feels so safe. Like this is exactly what she was meant to do. She’s lost in the moment, and it’s like all the bad stuff fades away. There’s no more island and plane crash, just Fatin’s lips on hers and their bodies flushed together.
“Holy shit,” is the first thing Fatin says when she pulls away– Leah barely manages to keep her dignity and refrains from chasing after her lips–, breathing heavily, “You’re a good kisser, Rilke.”
“So are you,“ she whispers, pressing her forehead against Fatin’s.
“I know,” Fatin says with a cocky grin.
Leah rolls her eyes but still smiles, “God, you are insufferable.”
It makes Fatin lean closer, their lips barely brushing, “You know you love it.”
Instead of answering, she just pulls her closer and kisses her again.