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but god, she kills me for sure (the sweet relimerence)

Summary:

"I don't, like, want to tell her! She doesn't return my, like, feelings at all. She'll, like, think I've gone mad. We've been best friends for, like, ever, and I never expressed that I wanted to change that. And I still don't, like, want to. I don't want to have to spend my days without her just because I, like, told her my dumb feelings."

Match blinked, and her rant was severed. Liy couldn't believe that such a person with a plain personality on the surface could have such a complex conflict within her.


Liy comforts Match in the night over her best friend, and makes a realization of her own.

Notes:

taking out my matchliy propaganda in honor of tpot 11

anyways. hi bfdi ao3! i haven't posted here for long, i know. unless i get roped into rewatching every single episode and getting hooked again, this'll just be a random self-indulgent brainworm-driven rarepair oneshot! i loved tpot 11 because i loved the exitors and getting an entire episode centered around them feels like a dream.

anyways... liy/match... it is ALWAYS appropriate to drown your crush. and use her as a weapon. two grand reasons why i like them. the scene where liy calls match 'matchy'... come on.... /silly

hope you enjoy! and if theres any errors or weirdness in the text please cut me some slack its night and i am tired. matchliy thoughts keep me going.

title is from relimerence by the happy fits. go check their songs out!!! (<--- always looking for an excuse to promote them)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The night was warmer, much more temperate than the EXIT was. In cool temperature-rooms, the hum of the air conditioner lulling the students to sleep, Match had adapted for six long years, the mindset of eternity in this torturous cell drilled tightly into her head. Now that they could feel fresh air that wasn't simply an illusion trying to trick them into a dull sense of normalcy, Match wasn't used to the fluctuation of the wind.

 

She glanced over the kitchen. The windows were still slick with cracks, moonlight silver against each edge of the smashed pane. Most of the EXITors were fast asleep—some on the floor, some on the chairs—and a stringy snore that Match had recognized overtime as Stapy's rocked the silent, stagnant air for a little while, before it, too, paused.

 

Match was left alone in the pale light that hung over her head. Sharp shadows touched the areas that the warmth could not, and a sudden draft whistling from one of the marred windows shot a cold bolt of lightning through her veins and she shuddered. The wooden stool also shook with her weight, sending vibrations rippling from the floor below her. A soft groan—Bracelety's—echoed from somewhere within the shade. Of course, it didn't totally wake up the garish bracelet, who was still aching with exhaustion after her skirmish with Four (that had been retold in epic proportions by Pencil).

 

Suddenly, her best friend sweeped her mind, and she craned her head to look at her. Pencil was fast asleep on the counter, sprawled out messily like a cloth thrown aside, laying on her arms. Match admired the low shine of oak from her face that was illuminated by the willowy lamplight above her, and the deep sleep she'd been calmed into. Each rise and fall, each breath, was noticed, and Match felt almost perverse for staring at Pencil in such a way, even when no other object was watching and even with the fact that they were best friends who had already kissed. Twice. (Platonically, Pencil always insisted right after.)

 

A whirlwind of watery sorrow and secrets left untold grasped Match's mind, and she tried to fight it down like bile. She swallowed harshly, feeling thoughts of her crush begin to cloud her mind and, by extension, this calm, serene moment. Because Pencil and the thought of her always made her heart beat loudly and race wildly within her chest, made her try and prevent a heart attack. And that was one secret that she could never speak to others of, not even Bubble or Ruby. It was a secret so detrimental to Match's relationships, especially knowing Pencil didn't like her back, and she thought she could never live without Pencil being her best friend. 

 

For some bizarre reason, she felt a prick at the corner of her eyes. Blinking the protrusion away, she brought her finger to her eyes reluctantly, and she was horrified when she saw the crystalline shape of tears, which slowly sunk into her finger. She rubbed it yet again, still trying to deny that she was crying. Over a stupid crush, too! She gave a soft, pitiful sob, which made it even worse. She curled up into herself, balancing her entire weight on the old stool, now, trying to claw the tears out of her eyes.

 


 

Liy's footsteps were the only noise that filled her hollow senses as she walked back into the kitchen. The gentle light of the lamp, half-obstructed by Match's tall shadow, was caught in her periphery, and she blinked and focused on the details in shadow, just barely sightable with slim edges outlined in moonlight. She hauled a ragged-clothed bag she had been carrying over her shoulder and onto the floor, the thump of it making her presence known to the only other awake object in the room.

 

"Liy?" Came Match's soft call, and Liy gave an instinctual nod despite the fact that she probably wouldn't have noticed with how dark the room was. However, when it came time for the lightswitch to rewind Match's mention of her name in her head, she realized with a jolt that Match's voice had a crack in it despite the length of her name, which meant that Match had most likely been crying.

 

"Match?" She called out, a little louder, to the figure enveloped in the golden light. She felt stricken with confusion and worry seeing Match's legs now on top of the stool, her back rigid against the white wall, and she could see the gleam of Match's watery eyes even from the corner of the room. Liy hurried up to the counter, Match giving a subtle flinch when Liy rounded the side and let her feet trail her to the matchstick. She whispered now that she was closer, "Are you okay?"

 

"Yeah." Match gave a brisk nod, trying desperately to obstruct the softness in her voice. Liy stared at her in worry, but the other's amber eyes communicated a clear thought: yes, she had, indeed, not been okay in at least one part of the night. And Liy, as her ragtag group's self-imposed leader, had to know why. Seeing the gleam in Liy's eyes, Match's vulnerability in her sight turned to irritation. "I'm, like, fine, okay? You don't need to, like, know why."

 

"I wasn't trying to ask why," Liy retorted, but she and Match both knew that was a lie. In the years they'd known each other, both of them were well aware of Liy's tendency to pry into her companions' personal lives and emotions, whether it was Bracelety's longing for Ice Cube, or Pencil's frustration at Four's dumb assignments, or Firey Jr.'s glaring frustration with their entire situation. Unfortunately for Match, Liy was better at reading emotions than she'd let on. She was determined to discover what was bothering her friend. She sharply turned back to Match and gave a sigh. "Fine. I'm trying to know how you are. It's what friends do, okay? I'm not trying to blackmail you or anything, if that's what you're worrying of."

 

"I'm not worrying about what you can, like, do!" Match said, and Liy took a step back at the matchstick's heated reply. A spark flared at the side of her head, and Liy felt horror split her muscles apart. Match, sensing Liy's terror, quickly cooled off, averting the other's blue gaze and instead opting to stare at the floor. "Okay. Are you going to, like, tell anyone if, hypothetically, I told you something, like, big?"

 

Liy leaned forward with interest, but she was careful not to accidentally provoke the other. "What? What something big?"

 

"A secret of mine so, like, terrible it could destroy my personal relationships and my best friends wouldn't want to, like, hang out with me anymore," the vivid explanation came subconsciously tumbling out of Match's mouth, and Liy could tell that this was no hypothetic situation. This was something personal troubling Match, and she was just looking for someone to vent to. Match immediately seemed to notice her accident, and she tensed.

 

"Hey, it's fine!" Liy attempted to comfort Match, placing a hand on the other's shoulder. To Liy's relief, Match didn't shy away from her touch, and Liy ambled closer to inspect the taller girl. Match was no longer crying, an obvious fact since their first words to one another earlier, buy Liy could clearly see the sodden stains that tricked from her eyes, dissolved into her wood. "I won't tell anyone, okay? Tell me what's troubling you. I'm here to help."

 

"You can't, like, help me with this," Match snapped hotly, before she softened and scrunched her eyes shut. Through her closed eyelids, Liy could almost feel the raging torrent of conflict within Match's head, choosing so closely whether or not to spill what could very well be here entire heart out to a person she was only friends with in the bare minimum sense, yet someone she had recognized and predicted every move of for six years and got to know every little part of. At last, Match's eyelids parted, and she peered directly into Liy's gaze. "All, like, this is about Pencil."

 

"Pencil?" Liy echoed. What was this getting to? For the six years they'd been stuck as technical roommates, she'd both seen and heard (from Pencil) the extent of their relationship. How comfortable both of them were, and how appreciative they were with their friendship. Even earlier, Liy had sighted for herself how Match and Pencil were jointed at the hip immediately after meeting again, as if they had been seperated for years. Which, technically, they were, but in the EXIT there was no perception of time, so it felt like a few hours. Seeing them so close somehow sparked a twinge of envy—just because she wasn't close with anyone that way, Liy reminded herself—within her. "What's up with her?"

 

Match shuffled in her seat, her eyes casting a long, forlorn glance at Pencil's figure on the counter. "Well.. this is, like, personal. Please don't, like, tell anyone."

 

The desperation in Match's voice sent surprise shooting into Liy's spine. The Match she'd known was irritable, annoying, and usually stuck to Pencil most of the time. She would never even consider pleading. Shaking the thoughts from her head, Liy slid her hand down Match's shoulder so her fingers were pressed to Match's arm. "I won't. I promise."

 

Match glanced again at Liy, a vague, icy air of suspicion in her eyes, before it dissipated, and she turned away. She took a deep breath, almost preparing herself to reveal this secret. "Alright. So, me and Pencil have been best friends for, like, decades, now. I'm, like, a big part of her life, and she's a big part of mine. I've always felt, like, content with how we are. But lately, everything's been, like, weird with how I feel about her."

 

Liy immediately sunk into a depth of understanding upon rendering Match's words. She recognized the same fondness in her words as the same Bracelety had when talking of Ice Cube, or 8-Ball when talking of Dora. Match liked Pencil, and she could recall exactly how she herself felt around some of her Death PACT teammates. She turned to Match, clarity and understanding in her eyes, but the other didn't seem to notice. "I.. I like her, and not in the, like, friend way. I think she's great, and, like, pretty..."

 

Match's tears threatened to leer at the edge of her eyelids again, and she blinked it away. Liy, unfortunately, noticed, and she reached up and brushed one of the tears away. Match flinched, and with that Liy also jerked away.

 

"You know, you don't need to go on if it's too hard," Liy attempted to soothe her friend.

 

"It's, like, fine. I'm feeling better, getting to, like, speak these feelings out." Match assured her, giving a wry laugh, yet the rueful undertone managed to slip through and reach Liy's hearing. Liy restrained herself from fleeing to hold Match's hand in hers, instead simply opting to offer a hearing ear. Match continued, "I don't, like, want to tell her! She doesn't return my, like, feelings at all. She'll, like, think I've gone mad. We've been best friends for, like, ever, and I never expressed that I wanted to change that. And I still don't, like, want to. I don't want to have to spend my days without her just because I, like, told her my dumb feelings."

 

Match blinked, and her rant was severed. Liy couldn't believe that such a person with a plain personality on the surface could have such a complex conflict within her. Despite her previous experience with the same type of feelings before, she wasn't sure how to approach it with Match, because for most of her life she had been focused entirely on adventure and ambition with no room for thinking twice about romance. Her feelings for her teammates had mostly been fleeting, until she was eliminated and sent to wallow in her failure in the EXIT. Only then was she allowed time to rethink her personal feelings, and her own blossoming affection for others in the purgatorial space.

 

Without warning, she felt hands wrap around her sides and being pulled towards Match. The other's arms wrapped around her back, and she was locked into the position. Liy let herself soften to the hug, bringing her own arms around Match's waist and resting them on Match's back. The light above them flickered, and a cool breeze swept the room, but now in each others' comforting warmth, they didn't shudder when the wind brushed against them.

 

Liy, relieved that Match didn't seem so despondent, relaxed and began to ponder her own feelings. Those romantic, in particular. She brushed off her feelings for her teammates, so, so long ago at this point, and began to instead recall her feelings for her fellow EXITors. Maybe once she had thought Pencil was adorably stupid when she helped the latter with assignments. Maybe once she had thought Leafy was endearing, a little too much so, with her attempts at befriending the others. Maybe once she had thought Bracelety was, while also annoying, cute with her high-pitched voice and devotion to Ice Cube.

 

Maybe more than once she had considered Match was pretty with the way the artificial light drew a smooth outline to her side. The way her amber eyes gleamed with excitement whenever she was loaned Liy's help out of pity for the other girl (who was even more clueless to algebra than Pencil, surprisingly). Her soft giggle whenever Stapy was berated for wrong answers on a test. And coming to the dreadful realization, Liy felt her entire world come crashing down on her inwardly, and she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole despite Match's cluelessness to her feelings.

 

Oh, God, she was literally going through the same situation Match was, but she was ignorant to her own feelings up until this very moment.

 

She was still numb when Match gently unfurled her arms from around her and pushed her back, willing her to come to her senses. Match was still averting her gaze, but a smile was now on her face, and it, unwillingly, made her heart swell. "Thanks for, like, being here, Liy. I feel, like, better."

 

She found herself subconsciously smiling, too. She shuffled away, out of the light, and murmured, "You're welcome. I'm glad I could help, even if a little."

 

Match's gratitude ebbed away, and she then wore a somewhat teasing look. "Say, what made you, like, call me Matchy earlier?"

 

And just then some person stirred, and Liy felt utterly thankful for Pencil's sluggish movement as she peered over the counter toward a stiff Liy burning with embarrassment inside and a surprised Match, outlined with light. Pencil squinted at them, her already low eyes now barely distinguishable, and she sleepily chided, "What are you two still doing up? If we don't put all our energy into getting out, Two'll make us work our asses off tomorrow. Best to get rest while it's still night."

 

Then she laid back and let her face touch the counter, and she fell back asleep.

 

"She's right," Liy agreed, walking past Match and taking a comfortable seat on a chair, trying not to let her revelation overcome the clarity of her mind again.

Notes:

this was supposed to be a drabble what the fuck happened. also i didn't know how to end it without it feeling off so yay! abrupt ending. woohoo.

sorry if the words seem odd. warriors' writing affected my own. anyway i had fun writing this! might write another tpot 11 fic... maybe...

 

my tumblr where i draw lots and am active on (not tpot! sorry)

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