Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“ — lhi…”

“ — alhi…”

“Dahli, wake up.”

A soft, clicking sound jolted Dahlia to half-attention. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried grasping onto the thin blanket of unconsciousness gradually being ripped from her shuddering psyche by a familiar cruelty. Whining softly, she turned her face away from the offending voice. Her nose ring bumped against something hard tucked beneath her chin, a dull ache throbbing in her cheek ricocheting down to the side of her neck. She winced at the smarting crick tucked at the base of her neck and its insistent refusal to let her lie comfortably no matter how she tried to situate herself. A sigh came from somewhere overhead, and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter to at least pretend to be asleep. 

If she were lucky, then she’d get off with a blanket around her shoulders and a lecture in the morning. It was a decent sacrifice to be made for a few minutes of quiet. Settled into the idea of her self-imposed punishment, Dahlia snuggled down against the crick in her neck and counted the lengthening pulses between its twinges until drowsiness crept up at the back of her mind. 

A deep inhale through her nose, then out

Another, a bit slower and with the added ease of her shoulders falling.

Then a thi— SNRK.

Her eyes flew open when her nostrils closed out of nowhere with a sharp pinching sting. She struggled for breath, thinking to open her mouth to draw in a breath but a thought crossed her mind. No, that’s exactly what she wanted her to do. It wouldn’t only prove that she was definitely awake, but would ruin the illusion that she’d been unfazed at all. Clamping her mouth shut tightly to keep what little air was still secured in her lungs, Dahlia waited patiently and with an internal scream as the pressure on her nose intensified. Her cheeks bulged a little, blood pounding in her ears as her throat burned with the need for fresh air - the recycled bits of oxygen savored from her nostrils dwindling in supply.

“How far are you gonna take this, Dahli?” An amused, puzzled voice asked with a lighthearted tweak of her nose. “Your ears are gonna blow at this rate.”

“No, they’re not!” Dahlia thought. Her ears had long-since popped when she tried to snuffle through her nostrils when the hold eased for the barest second. But once those fingers clamped down, what air she’d managed to gather tried to escape through her eardrums and only managed to batter against them like drums. Now, it sounded as if she was under water and testing how long she could hold her breath.

“I made chai, and warmed up the leftovers Cam brought earlier,” the voice continued with an enticing lilt as Dahlia's stomach roared to life like the sputtering engine of their friend's beloved van.

She wiggled out from under the pinch of Deja's fingers, and rubbed her nose's smarting tip. "Fine," she sighed, refusing to meet her roommate's smug look. "But I get first dibs."

Deja chuckled, bumping her knuckles lightly against Dahlia's shoulder. "Knock yourself out."

Chapter Text

Somebody, get me out of here. 

Lee had long-since given up on relying on his ability to keep his back straight and his eyes forward, melding to the curve of the stiff arm-chair reserved for hard talks and unwitting listeners to the dean's tirades. Every time the man's eyes drifted down to the portfolio strewn across his desk, Lee's darted to the clock perched on the wall over his head and lamented another minute lost. Sunlight streamed through the open windows in the adjacent wall, but the day had grown older, and the beams no longer had the freshness of early morning. The cafe-bought sandwich the dean's receptionist had given him with a pitiful glance about a half hour ago told him that he'd definitely missed breakfast, and lunch was going to be a by-forgotten memory unless he could get out of here.

He drummed his fingers against the frayed hem of his shorts; the pleasure of the older man's furrowed brow at his attire long lost with the hope of a quick dismissal to return at a later date. Apparently, his "unpredictability" was a desirable trait and exactly what they needed at Wryn Mayer. "It's a part of why you were admitted," the dean told him as he examined each piece of Lee's application portfolio while exemplifying certain ones and asking his opinions on others. That felt like hours ago, and now Lee watching as the dean preened himself over his "pick" for a new student. He almost sneered; how good he must have felt from getting a little praise out of picking one of the "good ones".

Never mind that Lee couldn't remember half of those pieces and it spoke to the superficiality of the dean's caring that he took whatever answer Lee pulled out his ass, or that this meeting was supposed to be about his future at Wryn Mayer - what he wanted to do. It was all so troublesome. He closed his eyes, resigned to passing the time by imagining himself being anywhere but here when his pocket vibrated. He tilted his head slightly, cracking open one eye then slipping his fingers into his pocket to pull out his phone slightly - a little tap to the screen lighting the glass and on the other side was a bubble notification with a "yassi-fied" crow, or at least that's what Cameron called it.

Lee bit the inside of his cheek to thwart a snort, shoving his phone back into his pocket when a sheaf of papers tapped against the desk. 

"Well, at any length, we're expecting great things from you, Mister Averill," the dean announced proudly, smiling from ear to ear with the sunlight reflecting off his glasses obscuring his eyes from view. 

Lee averted his eyes, curling his fingers in the rough upholstery for a hold - on himself, on reality - as he pulled himself to his feet "Got it," he said, slinging his pack over his shoulder as he started toward the door at what he hoped was a moderate pace. 

"If you need anything from us, please don't hesitate to reach out," echoed behind when the door clicked shut, leaving Lee to himself for the first time in forever. He wandered through the academic building feeling almost like a ghost, the heaping praise and idle warnings pounding in his head as they fought for space somewhere deep inside of his psyche, ready to be pulled out during late night musings over assignments.

A great thing to pull up during the last two weeks of the semester, Lee thought dryly, turning his face away from a bulletin board filled with colorful flyers pinned and stapled with encouragements for finals prep and Spring commencement. The day hadn't been kind to him at all - first, running into a scooter-driving menace then being called in for a lecture during his only free period. Stepping out into the blustery humidity of the afternoon, Lee tipped his head back and drew in a deep breath, wishing each atom of carbon dioxide he expelled in a sigh would just ignite with tiny embers.

“Leee eeeee !”

His heart leapt before he turned his head, bracing himself as a blur of white and black came hurtling at him with the squeak of sneakers against gravel. "Cam?!" Jostled back onto his heels, he rocked precariously before steadying himself by wrapping his arms around the flushed bare skin of Cameron's lower back. He was a little too warm, and a bit sticky with sweat matting down his bangs as he wiggled back to look at Lee eye-to-eye. "What're you doing on this side of camp?" 

"Oh, y'know," Cameron drawled, draping his arms over Lee's shoulders as he rocked from heel to toe, slanting his gaze away. "Just taking a break from studying."

Lee arched a brow, pinching the soft skin at his hips. "Uh-huh," he said, ignoring Cameron's yelp and batting at his hand. "Wanna try saying that again a little more convincingly?"

He released him after a second, biting the inside of his cheek as warmth trickled into his chest at Cameron's pouting. “What’re you talking about?" He huffed, feigning faintness as he draped the back of his hand against his sweat-slicked brows. Instinctually, Lee wrapped his arm around Cameron's waist as his knees "buckled" and he began to swoon backward. "How cruel could you be, doubting me. I was studying. In fact, me and Dahlia got a room in the library.”

Cameron cracked open one eye when Lee stilled slightly, realizing the trap he'd been caught in. “Which begs the question on why you’re near advisement…”

Lee glanced back at the building, frowning at the reminder. "Just killing time," he grumbled, helping Cameron back up to his feet with his hands on either sides of his hips. He glanced down at their feet, shrugging, "Wasn't really helpful otherwise."

"Hm.." Cameron hummed, and Lee wondered if he was going to ask something else about it or make another guess at what his degree path was about. A number of distractions popped up in his head - Dahlia was definitely waiting for them, and if Deja was also there for finals prep then it wouldn't be a good idea to keep her waiting, and..

Lee choked as he was dragged into another hug, squished with his nose pressed against Cameron's shoulder.  "Then, you've got a minute to hang out with your best friend in the whole world, don't you?"

As they relaxed in his hold, a half-suppressed puff of laughter passed Lee's lips as he felt his head quiet finally with the sound of Cameron's chatter while they steered clear of the advising building.

"Yeah.." 

Chapter Text

An insertion point blinked lazily at the tail end of a phrase written in twelve-point Times New Roman font, boldened then unboldened by the frowning young woman seated in front of the laptop. Violet tucked her knuckles under her chin and tapped out an impatient little tune on the keys as the words sputtered to life then fizzled out right before they'd connected to her fingertips. A quick glance to the ticking clock over the doorway sunk her heart to the pit of her stomach, the hundredth sigh of the morning falling from her lips as she reclined in the chair.

The student council meeting room was blissfully empty, allowing her to sit alone with her thoughts. But not even the lack of having to steer off-topic chatter back unto issues or scold council members sneaking peeks at their cellphones could right her focus. Attempting to get ahead of work seemed to only put her right back at the starting line with the insertion point firing blanks, waiting or daring for her to make a move.

The door rattled open with the smell of something intensely sweet, and Violet glanced out the corner of her eye before letting them shut with a huff. "I thought I told you not to come in today, Madam President," she reminded, shaking her head at the little lilting giggles.

"If I wouldn't leave Deja to work herself to the bone, what makes you think I would let you?"

A ceramic clink against the tabletop opened Violet's eyes, and she took a moment to register the strawberry cupcake set atop of a little paper plate with a tiny snack-sized water bottle next to it. She eyed the glistening cuts of strawberries, a far cry from their dehydrated cousins, then glanced at Reynah who was smoothing down her skirt to sit in the chair closest at Violet's right.

"Where did you get this from?" Violet asked, ignoring the traitorous stir in her stomach. Why was that cupcake giving off the smell of honey too? It couldn't be from the cafeteria.

Reynah allowed her to stew in wonder for a bit longer, brown eyes twinkling mischievously as she leaned back in her seat with all the poise of someone who held the focus in the room. "A trusted source," she said, folding her hands in her lap as she primly smiled. "In fact, I believe this source is one we could rely on for our little problem."

Violet tapped a finger against her chin, eyebrow arched. "You mean the problem of finding catering for sweets at such a short notice; one which we still haven't agreed on due to senators' availability suddenly changing after prior notice?"

She hadn't meant for the bitterness to slip into her voice but it'd been growing steadily over the weeks, blossoming into an irritable plant with the hardiness of a succulent. It didn't take much to keep it alive.

"Exactly," Reynah said, artfully skirting around Violet's harshness with practiced ease and a sweet smile. "What's better is that we won't have to go to expend our budget any further, so the treasurer can rest at ease."

Violet shifted up in her seat, straightening her posture and turning back to the cupcake with newfound intrigue. "The student council can't serve cheap sweets at this event, Reynah," she began, raising a finger when Reynah opened her mouth. "And we won't be taking out-of-pocket donations from members. It's enough that the venue is your house, you shouldn't have to give up more than that."

Reynah's mouth shut, creased into a little frown as she held Violet's gaze stubbornly. After a long moment, she sighed, "Fine. But these are anything but cheap, which you'll know once you try it for yourself."

So, that was her game. Violet pulled her glasses down the length of her nose and rubbed its bridge, feeling a hint of a headache coming on. "Reynah, you know that I don't eat sweets."

"I know that you limit yourself from eating sweets, and taking breaks, and drinking water—-" As she ticked off each reason on her fingers, Violet tried to resist the urge to groan. Reynah's smile returning with a smugness to her arched brow as Violet snatched up the cupcake and began to undo the wrapping.

Fluffy green pipes of icing were spun into the leaves of a strawberry patch while the cut fruit set atop of it with the delicateness of a flower. It was almost a shame to bite into it, but Reynah watched expectantly as Violet bit into a crevice and chewed. Spongy breading, not too sweet, but just enough to catch on her tongue and positively melt. Paired with the slight bitterness of the icing, it wasn't cloying or sticking to the roof of her mouth either. Violet took another bite, tasting one of the strawberries and humming around the tart buzz.

"—So? What do you think?"

She blinked open her eyes, stopping mid-chew to glance at Reynah who was leaning forward with her elbows on the table and chin resting on bridged fingers. The knowing smile wasn't good at all. A smug Reynah was one thing, but a proven-right Reynah was worse.

Violet sighed, sitting the cupcake down slowly before taking up the water bottle. "You already know what I Think," she said, uncapping it to take a swig. "So, who is our benefactor?"

She took a few sips before realizing Reynah hadn't said a word, and cut a glance at her again to find her twiddling her fingers. Violet frowned, lowering the water bottle with narrowed eyes. "Reynah…"

"It'll probably be best if I show you instead.." Reynah admitted, calling back to the doorway. "You can come in now."

Violet glanced up at the doorway just as someone stepped through, and her mouth fell open at the golden-haired young man who looked equally unnerved.

"… Good afternoon, Miss Savoy," he greeted, her name dancing to the musical rise and fall of his voice.

Of all the people in the world, why did their only hope have to be Jamie Porter?

Chapter Text

"Pereira!"

A light chorus of oohs and tittering laughter filled the air as Mari gulped down what could very well be his last drink. With the speed at which his coach was making her way toward him, parting the throng of stretching and lounging athletes like the sea, his days was numbered by mere seconds.

"What'd you do to piss off Titania?" One of his mates whispered, shifting nervously from the balls of his feet to his toes as if he couldn't decide whether to bolt or stay to watch.

Mari didn't have an answer to give him, and before he could think to grab the back of his jersey to keep at least one witness to his potential murder - he bolted. Resigned to his fate, Mari closed his eyes for a brief second before opening them to find his coach standing right in front of him with her arms crossed and chin raised imperiously. He tried to muster his best smile but from the bushy line of her furrowed brows, it had the opposite effect.

His eyebrow twitched as he tamped down the stirring nerves jumping and twisting like artificial sand in his stomach. "Did you call for me, coach?" He asked, wincing when she cleared her throat harshly.

"Call for you is an understatement. It's a miracle you can hear anything with all that crap between your ears."

Mari bit the inside of his cheek, barely resisting the urge to click his tongue at her or roll his eyes. Instead, he slid into the usual position reserved for grilling: hands behind the back and feet squared apart so that he wasn't towering over his irritable coach. What she hated more than anything was having to look up at all of her students, and what they liked to joke about the most was how her barking reminded them of an irritable chihuahua. The imagery made it easier to get through each lecture, but Mari lamented that no one else was on the chopping block with him this time.

"— starting time was absolute shit."

By the time he tuned back into the conversation, she'd already been huffing with a redness rising from the bulging vein in her forehead. His lips puckered around a soft 'oh' as he tucked his chin and nodded along. While he didn't catch the majority of what she said, he knew where her upset was coming from now. Unfortunately, that also meant remembering everything that happened before they began practice. Mari glanced toward where his teammates were continuing their stretches and chatting, pointedly trying not to look as if they were eavesdropping.

"What's going on with you, Pereira?"

His eyes drifted back to his coach, widening slightly at the frown on her lips deepening the wrinkles around her wizened face. Such concern twisted uncomfortably in his stomach and he could feel himself beginning to grow restless from just looking at her.

"I just…" He trailed off, thinning his lips then rolling his shoulders back in an attempt to stand straighter. "I have no excuse ma'am."

She blinked, the wrinkle between her eyebrows deepening. "So, you have nothing to say as for why you were an entire thirty minutes late to practice and late on your time?"

Mari swallowed hard, clenching his fist behind his back. The spring sun was especially hot on the days when there were no cloud coverage, and though it shone everywhere, it felt as if the spotlight was on him entirely. Heat clasped around the back of his neck, crawling up into his braid-woven bun, and he shuddered under it.

"It's… not the right time to talk about these things, coach."

His coach eyed him for a short while then blew out a sigh. "Got it, but you're going to make up for this later."

Mari kept his head low until she turned on her heel and started away, barking orders at the others to finish their stretches and head back. There were a few grateful sighs sprinkled with talks about afternoon plans. All of the noise garbled in Mari's head as he stared down at his shadow stretching across the grass, lain there as if he couldn't get any lower than he already was. He opened is mouth to breathe a sigh when a wolfish whistle broke through the chatter, and his head whipped up toward where the echo ricocheted.

A flash of pink jumped up and down on the lower steps of the bleachers and Mari narrowed his eyes while shielding them for a better look. Beside the pink blur was an orange and blue one that offered a hearty wave and startled a laugh out of him. He snatched up his duffel bag, saying a couple of goodbyes to the others before making his way toward the bleachers. He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, swinging his arm out to catch the pink blur — which by now had come into focus as a young man with dark hair and twinkling grey eyes wearing a pink flannel — around the shoulders.

"Way to break the ice, Percy," Mari teased, ruffling his knuckles against the top of his mop of dark hair.

Percy squawked indignantly, wrestling out from beneath Mari's arm with an elbow to his side. He pretended to grunt and stagger backwards, sticking out his tongue to Percy's scandalized look. "And here I was thinking giving you your own personal cheer team would actually lighten the mood."

"I don't think catcalling me in front of my team is exactly cheering," Mari tucked his hand in his pocket, tossing a smile up as racing footsteps carried down the bleacher steps. He swung out his other hand, catching Elio's in mid swing with a loud clap. Their pinkies intertwined as they swung their hands upward, then dropped them with a knuckle tap. "And when were you gonna stop him?"

"Eh," Elio said with a shrug, grinning lopsidedly. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em right?"

Mari shook his head. "Bad influences, both of you. I'm telling."

Percy snickered, grinning widely, "Oh yeah? Who? The cheer police?"

"Better, the cheerleading captain."

Elio cackled at Percy's stricken look, hand pressed to his chest and eyes wide. Mari smiled in return, letting himself fall into step between the two as they talked about lunch and hang-outs later on. HIs duffelbag vibrated a few times, but he paid it no mind, smiling in spite of the heavy boulder sitting in his stomach.