Work Text:
“Shit–”
Agott slammed her pen onto the desk, ink splattering across the margin of her paper. She tried to take a breath, but her chest felt tight, like someone was wrapping a heavy belt around her ribs and pulling.
The noise was too loud. The scratch of her own pen, the howling wind, the weight of the storm, all of it was spinning together into an intolerable hum right behind her eyes.
She pressed the heels of her palms hard against her ears, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to force her breathing back into a steady rhythm.
“Stop stop stop stop stop,” Her mind screamed. The rain seems to only amplify it's noise the more she tries to shut down her thoughts. “Why can't it stop- make it stop, make it–”
“Agott?”
A soft hand touched her wrist. Agott flinched, pulling back instantly, her eyes snapping open. Coco was standing beside her desk, a small, worried crease between her brows.
“What?” Agott snapped, though her voice lacked its usual bite, sounding thin and frayed instead.
“You're shaking,” Coco said, her voice low enough to undercut the roar of the rain outside. “Come on. We’re leaving the workroom.”
“I have three more pages of transcription to finish,” Agott grumbled, reaching blindly for her pen again. “Master Qifrey needs these notes organized before the morning, and if I don't—”
“Agott. No.” Coco didn't wait for permission. She wrapped her fingers firmly around Agott’s wrist, tugging her out of the chair.
“Coco, stop it! I'm busy!” Agott protested, stumbling slightly as she was dragged toward the heavy wooden door. “It's just rain! I'm perfectly fine!”
“You're not fine, you're holding your breath,” Coco countered, not letting go for a second. Eventually, she pulled a still grumbling Agott out into the way of her own small bedroom.
“I don't need to be babyoathed, I'm fine,” Agott muttered, though her resistance was half-hearted at best.
The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the storm’s noise softened into a dull, muffled thrum against the thick outer walls. Coco immediately kicked off her shoes, climbed onto her bed, and pulled back the heavy quilt. She looked at Agott and patted the space next to her.
“Get in.”
Agott stood frozen by the edge of the rug, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Coco honey, this is ridiculous. I am fifteen years old, not a child afraid of a little thunder. I need to go back.”
And by “little thunder,” Agott means the same thunder that was tormenting her poor ears for an hour straight.
“You're not going anywhere,” Coco said softly, reaching out and grabbing the hem of Agott’s tunic to tug her closer. “Just sit down. Please? For five minutes. If you still want to go back after five minutes, I won't stop you.”
Agott glared at her, searching Coco's eyes for any sign of a joke. Finding none, she let out a long, defeated sigh. She could never say no to her girlfriend when she got that specific look in her eyes. That stern, but infuriatingly gentle look always captured her.
Agott lets out a loud, dramatic exhale to prove her annoyance. “You are incredibly stubborn.”
“I learned from the best,” Coco giggles.
“Don't make me take back my words!” Agott snapped.
Silence.
“...Five minutes,” Agott muttered, begrudgingly crawling onto the bed.
She stiffened as Coco immediately wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her against her side and resting her chin near Agott’s shoulder.
Coco was… undeniably warm, is what Agott observed. Though it was a known fact thanks to the amount of times they used to cuddle in the past. But Coco was always unnaturally warm, like she carried a little spark of fire in her. Agott might as well be a creature entranced by the flame Coco emits. Slowly, the tension in Agott’s shoulders began to uncoil, the tightness in her chest loosening just a fraction.
To hide the faint warmth creeping up her neck, Agott blindly looked for something to distract her hands. Eventually, Agott reached toward the small wooden nightstand. Her fingers brushed against a thick, leather-bound book, and she pulled it over to the bed.
“What's this?” Agott asked, flipping it open to a random page. “I thought you only kept spellbooks in here.”
Coco peeked over her shoulder, a small smile touching her lips. “Oh! That's one of the natural history books Master Qifrey lent me last week. It’s all about surface animals. I was reading the section on mountain foxes earlier.”
Agott traced the sketched outline of a long-tailed creature on the page. “Mountain foxes...” Agott's eyes drifted towards the tail of the creature. “Looks… long. The tail's long.”
“It's for balance,” Coco offered, adjusting her grip around Agott's waist. “And warmth, I think…”
Coco smiles warmly at Agott. “Do you want me to read it to you?”
Agott stared at the page, her thumb running over the textured paper. “I can read it myself.”
“I know you can,” Coco said gently, unwrapping her arms around Agott's waist and taking the book from her hands anyway and propping it up against her knees. “But let me.”
Agott scoffed softly, leaning her head back against the headboard, but she didn't argue further.
Coco cleared her throat and began to read, her voice steady and melodious against the backdrop of the pouring rain. “The high-altitude fox adapts to the northern crags by growing a double-layered coat before the first frost... The inner layer traps heat close to the skin, while the outer guard hairs repel moisture…”
“That's similar to the weave they use for northern travelling cloaks,” Agott mumbled, her eyes staring blankly at the blanket. “The weavers in the eastern district use a double-knot technique with oiled wool to achieve the same thing. It takes twice as long, but it keeps the rain out completely. Master Qifrey brought one back from his trip two years ago. I think I spent an hour examining the hem just to figure out how they secured the inner lining without breaking the waterproofing thread…”
Coco didn't interrupt. She just kept reading, nodding along subtly whenever Agott interjected with a detail about textiles, geography, or the structural properties of ink used in the book's illustrations.
“...Their ears are smaller than those of lowland foxes,” Coco continued softly, “which prevents heat loss during long blizzards…”
“Smaller ears mean reduced surface area,” Agott murmured, her voice noticeably softer now. Her eyelids were growing heavy, the frantic edge of her thoughts dulling down to a haze. “It makes sense. Less exposure to the cold air. Less noise, too, probably... wish my ears were smaller…”
Coco smiled, turning the page carefully. “In the deepest part of winter, they nest together in underground dens, relying on shared body heat to survive the coldest nights…”
Agott’s commentary was slowing down. “Shared heat... like a fire...spell…”
Her voice trailed off entirely. Coco kept reading, entirely immersed in a paragraph about the hunting habits of owl-bears, her thumb absently tracing small circles into the fabric of Agott’s sleeve. She was so engrossed in the text that she didn't realize how quiet the room had become until a sudden weight dropped onto her left shoulder.
Coco jolted slightly as a heavy weight suddenly dropped onto her left shoulder. She paused mid-sentence, turning her head as far as she could without shifting her posture.
“Ago–” Coco cuts herself off entirely at the sight of her girlfriend.
Agott’s head had slumped completely against her shoulder. Her eyes were half-lidded, unfocused and heavy with sleep, her dark lashes fanning out against her pale cheeks. She looked softer like this, stripped of her usual guarded sharpness.
“Agott?” Coco whispered, a fond smile breaking across her face. “Are you falling asleep?”
Agott let out a low, discontented hum, her eyelids heavy. “Not... asleep,” she lied weakly, barely keeping her eyes open. “Keep reading.”
Coco smiled warmly, lifting the book again. “Alright. So, the nocturnal foxes usually—”
Before she could finish the sentence, Agott suddenly reached up and snatched the book straight out of Coco’s hands, tossing it unceremoniously off the side of the bed. It landed on the rug with a dull thud. For a girl that treated books as a holy grail, she was undeniably ruthless to her obstacles when it comes to moments like these. And her current obstacle being the book.
“Hey!” Coco giggled softly. “I was reading that!”
“Too loud, changed my mind,” Agott mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. She wrapped her arms around Coco’s waist, tugging her down until they were both lying flat on the mattress, wrapped tightly in the quilt. “Now shut up and cuddle me.”
“You were the one talking about foxes too,” Coco chuckled.
“The foxes can fend for themselves,” Agott groaned loudly. “Just stay still. I want my girlfriend...”
“You're bossy when you're tired,” Coco teased, but she willingly yielded, pulling the blanket up over their shoulders and burying her face in the crook of Agott’s neck.
Agott shifted slightly, lifting her head just an inch. Her eyes were still half-closed, heavy with sleep, as she blindly leaned up and pressed her lips against Coco’s cheek, right over the jagged edge of her scar.
Coco’s heart gave a sudden, familiar flutter. She turned her head slightly, meeting Agott’s mouth with a soft, lingering kiss of her own.
Both girls pulled back, with Coco grinning and Agott sniffing Coco's neck. “You're warm…”
“Because it's raining,”
“Still warm, I should start using you as my heating pad,”
“Yeah, whatever makes you sleep an night,”
“Kiss,” Agott demanded again. “Kiss makes me sleep.”
And Coco kissed her, pressing her soft, warm lips to Agott’s once, twice, three times, each one lingering a little longer until Agott’s breathing finally evened out into a deep, rhythmic pattern. The tension was entirely gone from her frame, her hands resting loosely against Coco’s back.
The rain outside kept pouring, relentless against the glass, but inside the small room, the sound didn't matter anymore.
Coco stayed still, holding Agott close, watching the quiet rise and fall of her chest. She raised a hand, brushing a stray lock of dark hair away from Agott’s forehead, and leaned down to press one last, gentle kiss to her sleeping girlfriend's lips.
Closing her eyes, Coco pulled the blanket closer around them both, letting the sound of the storm carry her off to sleep.