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Nothing screamed “Holidays” like Sasha’s apartment. It was as if Santa’s Workshop exploded into her place. The girl baked for hours, another victim of Pinterest and holidays recipes. She wanted to make herself at home considering she would be spending her free week in the city. Ginger molasses was trending and the chef aficionado tested her luck with cookies. Everything seemed to work fine, except for one little detail: she put more butter than needed, then she needed more flour and sugar, but she didn’t measure the exact amount, after that she put more molasses, but again she had to add more butter... and before Sasha noticed, she baked enough cookies to feed an army.
Her apartment smelled amazing, though.
It would work, she had enough gifts for her friends and neighbors. Sasha usually made lemonade every time life gave her lemons. Mina, her roommate and recruit, helped her packaging and wrapping cookies for her friends. Martha Stewart would be proud of her. She took the list of her neighbors, festive plastic plates, and visited all of them. Almost all of them, Apt. 10B was the obvious exception. She wasn’t sure if Goth Girl would like cookies or not. What if Goth Girl didn’t want to chat with her?
“The new neighbor, if you want. We shouldn't call her Goth Girl,” Mina corrected. “You should stick with the girl in 10B.”
It was a necessary reminder, much to Sasha’s embarrassment. Annie —second floor, three doors to the left— started the Goth Girl thing and the catchy nickname stuck. Her first name was a mystery, not that someone had asked her. Mina tried to correct Annie too, but “the new neighbor” lost strength when Marco —fourth floor, end of the hall— moved in and claimed the title. Sasha preferred 10B for obvious reasons. When people didn’t understand who was 10B, they said Goth Girl and everyone nodded. Too many ways to talk about the girl living across the hall and the only person who ever “spoke” with her was Mina; her roommate was the Miss Congeniality of the building. Anyway, Sasha didn’t know how to approach to Goth Girl; both lived next to each other, their mailboxes side by side, and not even once had they talked for over ten seconds. The tag in her mailbox had a masking tape with a pretty handwriting, “M. Ackerman.” Once Sasha got a package for her in her mailbox, the name had a typo and she called her M. Something-Something Ackerman.
Sasha’s curiosity increased by day; yet, after three months living in her building, M. Something-Something Ackerman, the Goth Girl —apt. 10B, same floor across the hall— remained an enigma. M. Ackerman wore black or gray, combat boots, high pigtails and cute bangs, handcrafted jewelry, and a mug of coffee or another hot beverage ready to go. Every once in a while, Sasha felt her neighbor observing her, but maybe it was her imagination. Well, adding more butter than required and ending with dozens of cookies, didn’t happen for excessive attentiveness.
That morning they ran into each other, Sasha going out and she coming to her apartment. The girl nodded when Sasha waved, and not-for-the-first-time, she admired her beauty. When her eyes met, 10B lifted a quizzical brow.
A big bow in her hands and a reindeer plate stared at her. Sasha Braus had been sitting down for five minutes, her resolution waiving. Two extra batches of cookies required a home and everyone in her building had their own share of sugary confections.
Not everybody, though.
“Fuck it!”
The exclamation accompanied a rather determined sequence of actions. With the plate, bow, and cookies, Sasha walked out of her apartment towards 10B and knocked. After a few knocks, her target opened the door.
“Hi! I’m Sasha, your neighbor; if you don’t remember me it’s okay,” she pointed her own door and offered the cookies; 10B took them, looking startled. “We haven’t actually met, but I wave at you and you nod.”
The girl’s eyes followed her hands' movements and Sasha realized that she was acting her words.
“Anyhow, I baked, I love to bake. I’m good at baking, not professional good, but good,” Sasha shrugged while talking and pointed the plate. “I made too many cookies, those are fresh-made. As you can see I like big bows, too. Ginger molasses if you’re guessing.”
Even if it appeared as if she rushed her words, Sasha felt at ease. She just talked fast. That was Sasha.
“I remember you and I already knew your name, Sasha. Thank you for the cookies. Now I understand why your apartment smells delicious. I was pouring tea.” She opened her door, inviting her and asking, paused and collected, “Would you like some?”
“Yes, thank you.” Talking with her was easier than she’d expected it.
“My name is Mikasa, by the way,” when the girl went inside, Sasha followed her. “Like the battleship.”
***
The sunlight coming through the window woke her. Sasha needed a few seconds to remember the date and smiled with true happiness knowing that she had two more free days. The blankets were velvety soft, warm and inviting, with a soft lavender scent; Mina was right about them. If only she could hibernate for the rest of the winter or the rest of her life, she needed nothing more… well, pancakes and fresh coffee too. Maybe Mikasa would like to join her for breakfast. Stretching her body, she hugged the pillow; those blankets deserved a prize.
Except that she didn’t buy the blankets, did she?
She opened her eyes when a warm body snuggled against her back, embracing her. Her companion nuzzled her ears, inhaling her scent. Soft fingers caressed her arms, hips, and legs, traveling a path already explored. Surprise, confusion, and delight filled her when she realized their nudity.
Feather kisses trailed her shoulders, and she did a poor job containing a sigh.
“Good morning,” Mikasa said with a husky after-sex-voice. Her messy bed hair made her prettier.
And just like that, Sasha recalled the previous events, the kissing and the making out, Mikasa’s abs and her request to check them, the heavy breathing, the way she shivered when her mouth... She remembered every microscopic detail in full color and HD Dolby Surround. It was her, she initiated everything. Laura Prepon made her doubt her preferences before, but with Mikasa she had no doubts. Sasha did it; she seduced her stunning and elusive neighbor with cookies. And they ate those cookies. They ate a lot of cookies.
Pride and embarrassment mixed on her face.
“Good morning.”
Mikasa stroked her cheeks and kissed her. It was the right kind of kiss and she missed her lips when the other girl pulled apart.
“Do you want coffee or anything to eat?”
“Yes, please,” she offered her improved puppy eyes and received a kiss on the tip of her nose as a reward.
“I’ll be back with provisions.” It sounded promising.
Her neighbor would make shoelaces sound promising and sensual.
She got out of the bed and Sasha couldn't take her eyes away from her athletic figure. If she’d been a vampire, “claimed” would have been the proper description of the feeling inside her while appreciating her naked body, and nice and perky butt. What an ecstatic awakening of her sexuality. Seeing Mikasa wear her oversized sweater did a funny thing to her stomach. Engulfed by her presence and possible butterflies living in her stomach, Sasha made a cocoon with the abandoned blanket, concealing her feelings and desires. An unavoidable squeal followed; she scored big time, and she wasn’t trying to score— okay, maybe a little. Even the bed was perfect. For prejudiced reasons she had expected it to be different, but Mikasa had a very stylish and girly decoration; dark grays in walls and curtains though.
Everything smelled amazing in her room, and the blankets.
She really needed to buy those blankets.
No long after, Mikasa returned with a bed tray with coffee, fruit, and croissants. She had tied her hair and Sasha missed her rebel locks; good thing her bare legs and the food had distracting effects.
“Did you make croissants?”
“I bought them.”
“Right now?”
“Yesterday,” Mikasa sat next to her and took a flaky and buttery bite. “Am I losing points?”
“No.” Sasha used her coffee to hide, feeling timid.
“Good, I want all my points.”
She bumped her shoulder against Sasha’s and smiled. Mikasa wearing her sweater was extremely distracting. It didn’t help that her neighbor stared at her barely covered breasts.
“We…?” Her finger waved, pointing both of them.
“Yes,” she nodded for emphasis.
“The whole night…” She couldn’t stop herself, but probably her expression didn’t reflect her real thoughts because Mikasa looked at her with the stoic gaze she remembered from before; soon, her eyes softened and she removed the hair falling over Sasha’s face.
“We had sex and it was amazing. You were amazing, Sasha.” Every word shook her entire existence. “It's sudden, you don’t know me, and maybe you’re just exploring. It can be more. I’d like it to be more. But, it doesn’t have to. We can go back to neighbors waving and nodding if that’s what you want.”
Not that she needed a big speech. She wanted her, it was as simple as that; however, her words confirmed their mutual interest. Mikasa’s statement took a weight off her shoulders. After what Mikasa said, she had wanted to be clear too.
“What if I want this to be more? Much more.”
She didn’t miss the way Mikasa smiled. She would love to see that smile every day. It wasn’t love, not yet, Sasha knew it, but 10B drove her crazy.
“We’ll make it work, then.”
Mikasa’s eyes devoured her body when she took off the blanket. This time Sasha kissed her, hugging her and straddling her lap. She purred when Mikasa’s hands ran over her back and down to her waist.
“I’m not a girl who fucks and goes, you know,” a playful Sasha said.
Kissing while laughing should be mandatory.
“Good, because I’m very fond of your cookies.”
With her face burning, Sasha opted for hiding herself under the pillow. The chuckle she heard made her warm and cozy.
“Do you realize that wasn’t an innuendo, do you?”
Mikasa took the pillow away and Sasha saw her smiling. Not just smiling, “M. Something-Something Ackerman, the Goth Girl —apt. 10B, same floor across the hall—”, had this gorgeous smile because of her. Sasha pulled her, enjoying the way she covered her up; her hands wrapping her waist and dragging her closer.
Yes, Mikasa was right, they would make it work.