Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s been two years since Karolina and Nico had officially broken up.

It’s been longer since they actually dated —the process of breaking it off had occured over many months, slow and painful, and one that left Karolina wondering if they’d ever had anything to begin with.

Karolina doesn’t know if she’s gone a day without thinking about Nico in the meantime. She’s tried—oh, she’s tried. She’s dated other people, drank, hooked up, drank some more—but even still, she can’t stop thinking about Nico.

It’s been two years, and Karolina can’t get Nico out of her head. So much so that Karolina has developed an unhealthy habit of hitting the bar four out of seven nights of the week after work. Sometimes she goes with coworkers, sometimes alone. She used to go with Chase and Gert, but they stopped once they realized how much she was drinking. Gert had tried to convince her that what she was doing was unhealthy—but she can’t stop. Drunk Karolina is the only Karolina that isn’t thinking about Nico—or at least, Karolina assumes so. If she did think about Nico, she didn’t remember enough to think about thinking about Nico, so it’s relief either way.

The nights that Karolina isn’t at the bar, she’s on another Her date, which ends in getting eaten out on a futon with at least one broken spring, during a bad Netflix movie that Karolina was only marginally more interested in than the bad tongue she was receiving, heading home with barely so much as a ‘Thanks, see you around,’ and lying awake with her hands pressed to her eyes to stop the tears.

But Karolina doesn’t even know where Nico is, now. The last Karolina heard, she’d moved to New York to finish her degree, but that had been almost a year ago.

“I hate thinking about you,” she says aloud to the imaginary Nico in her head. Her thoughts are kind of slurry from the glass of scotch in her hands, but she knows enough to know that she’s thinking about Nico. Again. And she’s sick of it.

“Who do you hate thinking about?” A pretty ginger headed girl slides into the seat next to Karolina. She waves the bartender over, who raises her brows. This isn’t one of Karolina’s usual drinking buddies, and the bartender knows them all.

“An ex of mine,” Karolina says, draining the last of her glass. The bartender doesn’t even have to ask, just fills her glass up again. She would do the same for Karolina’s usual buddies, but since this is a new face, she actually has to ask what she’ll be having.

“I don’t know,” the ginger says, pondering. “I’ve never been here before.”

“It’s all… good.” Karolina squints, focusing. Her thoughts are kind of slidey now.

“I’ll have whatever you just gave her,” her new friend says after a moment. The bartender gets out a glass and some ice, and pours the scotch into the second glass. “I’m Julie, by the way.”

Karolina frowns. “I’m Karrie—Karolina.”

Karrie had been the nickname Nico had always used for her. She frowns.

It’s been two years. It’s been two years it’s been two years it’s been—

“Hi, Karolina,” Julie laughs, and tastes the scotch. She almost spits it out, gags, then swallows it forcefully. “This is awful .”

“Thanks,” Karolina says tonelessly, taking a large swig of her drink.

“So… ex trouble, huh?” Julie asks, pushing her glass over the wooden countertop to Karolina, who’s grateful for the refill. Karolina grunts noncommittally in reply. “It’s okay to let yourself be upset, you know.”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

Julie laughs a little. “So… how long?”

Karolina is a little taken aback. “What?”

Julie shrugs and waves the bartender over again. “Just get me a margarita with lime, please.” She turns back to Karolina. “How long were you dating?”

Karolina scrunches up her nose. It’s been so long since anyone’s asked, and her brain is  cloudy. How long did she date Nico?

Forever.

Too long.

Not long enough .

“A year, I think,” she says out loud. That sounds right.

“A year?” Julie lets out a low whistle. “No wonder you’re here.”

“Well, it’s been two years since we broke up,” Karolina mumbles as Julie receives her drink.

Julie raises her brows. Karolina thinks she does, anyways—it’s getting harder to see through the blurriness. Wait—that’s just tears spilling out of her eyes and dripping onto the bar. “And you’re still drinking about her?”

Karolina probably would’ve blushed if she had the presence of mind. Instead, she rolls her eyes and drains her glass. Now, she just has Julie’s, and then whatever other refills she wants. Usually, she’d get a few more, but Julie was pretty attractive, and Karolina wasn’t objecting to the idea of not being alone tonight—and her drinking habits would’ve scared off a seven foot lumberjack, much less a hot ginger who looked like she had one glass of wine a month.

She’s not Nico, says the back of her brain, but the back of her brain is just as drunk as the rest of her brain, so Karolina doesn’t feel bad about ignoring it.

“Yep.”

“She must’ve been really special, huh?”

You don’t know the half of it , Karolina muses, taking a sip of her third glass. Julie eyes her for a moment before downing the rest of her own drink and calling for a refill. The challenging glint in her eyes amuses Karolina, just a little.

“You don’t wanna try that,” Karolina says. Julie smiles at her.

“Try what?”

“To out-drink me.”

“I’m not trying to,” Julie says, receiving her refill and taking a big gulp straight out of the glass. “I’m going to.”

This is a bad idea. Karolina’s already had two scotches, is now working on a third, and can feel the beginnings of the alcohol start to muddle her thoughts together. One second, she’s thinking about how she can see Julie’s olive green bra strap and how good it would look on her bathroom floor (yes, the bathroom—Karolina hasn’t had sex in her bed since Nico), and the next, she’s thinking about Nico again, and how soft her lips were, and how her eyes had always seen through her, and how her warm hands had felt ghosting Karolina’s thighs. And then she’s thinking about how she can definitely wipe the floor with this cute girl, and then maybe make out with her later to make up for it.

Karolina takes the rest of her scotch like a shot—gulping with enough strength to make the bartender shake her head. She’s seen this before.

The next few minutes pass in a blur. Karolina loses count of how many glasses she drinks, but Julie keeps up with her relatively well—until her hands slip, and she slops margarita all over her chest.

Karolina can’t help it—she stares. Julie’s white shirt becomes translucent upon being soaked, and her bra stands out in stark contrast to her pale skin. Karolina’s mouth feels dry, but that could be all the whiskey burnt into her throat.

“Hello?” Julie says to her, and Karolina’s eyes snap upwards to Julie’s own. She doesn’t look angry, or offended—just amused. She hiccups. “Wanna get me some— hic —paper towels?”

Karolina gets up, thankful for having something to do instead of letting her drunk mind get her hot and bothered. The floor is wobbly and her head spins, but she manages to get to the bathroom and get paper towels from the dispenser unharmed. Probably from the two years of walking the same path to and from her seat to vomit in the toilet.

She stares at the toilet now, tunnel visioned at the drain in the bottom, trying not to burst into tears.

Nico would hate to see her like this.

She cleans up Julie’s shirt, who offhandedly mentions that she’s “visiting, so I won’t be able to wash this later. Which is— hic —a shame, cause I like this shirt, and it’ll be stained by the time I get home.”

Karolina narrows her eyes, focusing very, very hard. “Where… are you visiting from?”

“New York,” Julie says, and Karolina’s heart splinters a little. Or what’s left of it, honestly. Nico lives in New York, as far as Karolina knows.

“That’s cool,” Karolina says. “And I think that’s the best I can do,” she adds, a little apologetically.

“That’s okay… I probably wasn’t gonna wear it later, anyways,” Julie purrs, and Karolina takes a second to place the look in her eyes. Flirty.

“Mmm, you don’t have to,” she replies, slurring a little, giggling. “You can wash it at my place if you want.”

“That’s a great offer. I’d feel terrible to turn it down.”

Score for Karolina. They make their way out of the bar after Karolina pays for her drinks (the bartenders won’t let her start a tab after that time last year when Karolina lost her job and ended up hundreds of dollars deep in debt), Julie calls a Lyft, and they get back to Karolina’s apartment with lots of flirting in between. Karolina helps Julie shuck off her shirt (under the pretense that they’re going to wash it, of course), and Julie mutters something about how they should wash both shirts, just to be fair, and Karolina agrees easily. So now, both shirts removed, they flirt and kiss their way into Karolina’s bathroom, and from there, they’re making out.

If Karolina pretends, which is easy considering how little rational thought she can put forward at the moment, she’s flirting with Nico after one of their parents’ charity galas. They’re teenagers again, tipsy on a stolen bottle of sangria, flirting and chasing each other’s lips on a rooftop. Nico smells like her mother’s perfume—peaches and white tea and sandalwood, as always. Karolina presses their lips together, tired of the teasing, and Nico responds gladly, cupping Karolina’s cheek with one hand and pressing on Karolina’s thigh with the other. Her lips are softer than Karolina’s ever known, and she tastes like the alcohol and the chocolate cake they’d been eating, and Karolina’s never been happier.

Except she’s not kissing Nico. Julie is leaving spots down Karolina’s neck, and she doesn’t know when their bras came off, but they did.

Julie’s bra doesn’t look nearly as good on Karolina’s bathroom floor as she’d thought it would. In fact, Karolina can’t really see much of anything looking good at the moment, despite knowing that Julie was pretty objectively attractive.

Karolina allows Julie to hoist her onto the bathroom sink, undoing and sliding off her pants, and does her best to reciprocate the affection so that Julie doesn’t think she’s uninterested.

(Even though she is.)

Karolina curls her fingers into Julie’s hair, making all the noises she’s supposed to as Julie does what she wants, Karolina not objecting to any of it. She doesn’t remember if she comes. She doesn’t remember if she cares.

Julie looks at Karolina expectantly afterwards, which means she’s wanting some reciprocation. Karolina’s fingers are clumsy, drunk, but Julie’s perfume smells like daisies and Karolina focuses on that, the scent of it, closing her eyes and trying to keep herself grounded in the moment. She tries to pretend this is Nico she’s with, again, but it doesn’t work. Karolina and Nico had never been so flippant about sex, treating every night of intimacy with reverence and love. Karolina misses that—misses having someone explore her body with adoring lips and love like honey on her thighs, her hips, her everything. Nico had loved her right . This… this was just fingering in a bathroom.

They must stagger into the bedroom afterwards, because Karolina knows that she’s in her bed. She presses her face into her pillow, her head thundering, her stomach threatening to bring all of that alcohol back to the surface. She doesn’t remember if Julie goes home. She doesn’t remember if she cares.

Julie didn’t go home, apparently, because Karolina wakes to a nose full of cherry scented shampoo. Karolina cracks an eye open and, sure enough, her whole view is sun colored hair and pale skin. But not natural sun, the kind Nico used to compare her to, bright and beautiful and warm —or at least that’s what she’d say. More like the type of sun that wears sunglasses in cereal commercials.

Karolina groans. The light in her eyes gives her a splitting headache, or at the very least, makes her already existing migraine worse.

She rolls over and downs an Advil from the ever-present bottle on her bedside table. She checks the clock. 7:49. It’s a good thing she has today off of work, at least. If Karolina had woken to an alarm, she might’ve cried.

Julie stirs next to Karolina, but doesn’t wake. Karolina starts—she’s unused to women she’s slept with staying the night, let alone even having sex in her own apartment. The last time that had happened, it was a gorgeous genderfluid woman named Xavin (Karolina hadn’t really cared about the whole gender thing—sex was sex and boobs were boobs to her. She might’ve had more respect if she’d been sober, but she wasn’t), and they’d had sex on Karolina’s futon. When she woke the next morning and Xavin was still over, Karolina had freaked out and kicked them out. She switched bars immediately after that, terrified to run into them again in case they asked what her deal was with commitment.

I don’t have commitment issues, Karolina thinks. Just everyone except for Nico issues.

Karolina slinks out of her bedroom, not bothering to get dressed, and showers. She scrubs at her skin and gargles shower water, hoping to get the scent of daisies out of her throat. Hoping to replace the red hair with midnight black. Hoping to clear the entire night from her mind. Karolina’s head still pounds—she squints at the shower wall, trying to recall what day it is. Tuesday? Wednesday? She doesn’t know—other than she knows she doesn’t have to work, which means it’s probably Wednesday. She always gets Wednesdays off.

Karolina dries her hair and tiptoes back into her room to get dressed—she doesn’t have roommates in her apartment, thankfully, but she doesn’t like to walk around naked, anyways. It’s too vulnerable. This had been true even when she and Nico had been dating—it wasn’t a self esteem thing (even though the high of Nico complimenting her body had been delicious ), it was just… Karolina didn’t like to be naked. Her thighs stuck together, her breasts were weights that hurt if she didn’t have them pressed down with a bra, and she was honest to God terrified of cooking first thing in the morning without a shirt on. What if the hot oil in the pan popped and burned her boob? What was she gonna do, pour cold water on her nipple? The whole situation was just best avoided.

Karolina pulls on a sweater, not looking or caring which one, and a pair of sweatpants. It’s her day off—she doesn’t have to think about what outfit she wants to wear. She gives a sparing glance to the prescription bottles of antidepressants on her dresser gathering dust. She hasn’t taken any of them in months.

Her kitchen is tidy, as always. The nice thing about barely living in her apartment is that it’s pretty much always clean, unless Gert is on one of her ‘Get Karolina Sober’ campaigns—then she, Chase, and Molly are staying at her apartment for about two weeks, not allowing her to drink, and forcing her to be sociable. Karolina enjoys those times much more than she’d admit to Gert, but they never last long. Gert always ends up having something else to do (which isn’t surprising considering that she’s currently pursuing a doctorate in Political Science), and so her latest project is abandoned in favor of the next one. Karolina can’t blame her—her alcoholism isn’t a burden her friends should have to deal with, anyways.

Karolina cracks an egg into the pan. She wonders what Nico went back to school for. She wonders if Gert was even right in the first place, that Nico went back to college, but considering Karolina hadn’t seen Nico since, she wouldn’t be surprised. Especially since Gert just seems to know everything.

She wonders what she could’ve done differently.

Her egg is burning. Karolina flips it out of the pan quickly and onto the plate she’d had ready, but one side is blackened now. Shit.

“Hey,” says a voice, and Karolina’s heart rate spikes before remembering that she’d had a guest last night. She turns, and Julie is greeting her with a look that is somehow friendly despite her scowl.

“It’s not you, it’s…”

“The hangover? I keep Advil on my sidetable.”

“I saw,” Julie says. “Didn’t know if I was allowed to have any.”

“Of course,” Karolina says as though it’s obvious. It’s not, clearly—Karolina can’t remember a time she’d ever felt comfortable at a one night stand’s place. To be fair, Julie might not consider this a one night stand. Karolina doesn’t know what she’ll say if she doesn’t. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks. Do you have, like, coffee?”

Karolina shakes her head. “I usually just go to Starbucks before work. I haven’t had a coffee pot in two years.”

Julie’s eyebrows would’ve shot into the ceiling if they weren’t scrunched around her eyes—Karolina could guess, at any rate.

“How much money do you make ?”

Karolina grunts. “My parents are actors. They send me money a lot.”

Julie purses her lips. “I see.”

Karolina gestures to the apartment around her. “Do you think one person could pay for this with minimum wage?”

Julie laughs at that. “I don’t know—maybe you worked a desk job, or something. I don’t know anything about you.”

And I’d prefer to keep it that way , Karolina thinks. Instead of responding, she says, “How do you want your eggs?”

“I don’t eat eggs,” Julie replies lightly. “Vegan.”

Karolina’s mouth quirks. “I’m vegetarian. I have tofu patties.”

“Please,” Julie says. “How lucky am I to have banged a hot millionaire’s daughter?”

Karolina laughs at that (even though just the mention of the fact that they had sex makes her stomach tighten—she doesn’t know how to handle this), and opens the freezer to search for the patties that she knows she has—they’ve been there for weeks. Considering Karolina’s diet is mostly alcohol and fast food, the times she cooks are few and far between. Mostly, it’s just whenever she has a day off and doesn’t want to leave the house. Or now, when she has a guest.

Karolina finds the patties easily enough and throws two into the pan. They sizzle, and despite all the complaining that Gert does every time Karolina makes them, they smell good. Maybe Karolina’s brain is just hangover-addled. Maybe she’s sick of eating Hardee’s biscuits and french fries for her only meal of the day.

“Thanks,” Julie says when Karolina finishes up and gives Julie the plate without eggs.

“Sorry I don’t have anything else,” Karolina says apologetically, but really, the back of her head is starting to get irritated. Had Julie never had a one night stand? Karolina could count the number of times she’d woken up at a hookup’s place on one hand, and the amount of times she’d stayed for breakfast was even less.

Then again, Julie didn’t really give off casual sex vibes. Karolina is going to have to shut this down, and quickly.

But why? Asks a small, defiant part of her.

It’s not fair, she replies to it.

You mean it’s not Nico .

Karolina frowns and chomps down on one of her eggs. What’s wrong with that?

Move on , says the small part of her. Now’s your chance .

It’s still not fair. It’s not fair to date people just to get over someone else .

It’s not fair that Nico dumped you after months of uncertainty, either, but here you are—still pining like a whipped idiot.

“Are you okay?” Julie asks. Karolina blinks her eyes back into focus.

“Yeah,” she manages, voice a little strangled. She clears her throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just hungover.” The lie is easy and falls off of her tongue with less guilt than it should.

“Okay,” Julie smiles, more genuine than Karolina deserves. “Thanks for the food.”

“No problem,” Karolina says. “I’ll go put your shirt in the dryer so you can get out of here.” She winces—Karolina doesn’t mean for it to sound rude, but it does anyways.

“Okay.” Julie nods. “I’ll call a Lyft or something when it’s done, don’t wanna be in your hair for too long.”

Please . Karolina forces a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

Julie gives her a look of surprising understanding. “Trust me. I’ve been here—I know you don’t want me around.”

Karolina’s eyes widen in shock—was she that obvious? “No, that’s not—”

Julie holds up a hand. “I’ve been you, don’t worry. I know how awkward it is.”

Karolina can do nothing but look sheepish. “Sorry.”

Julie laughs. “It’s no big deal.”

Karolina can relax, then—suddenly this feels so much more genuine, now that they actually have something in common.

“So… shirt,” Karolina says, shoveling the rest of her food into her mouth. Julie laughs.

“Yeah—I just grabbed one off of your floor, I hope that’s okay.”

Karolina realizes she hadn’t seen what shirt Julie’s wearing, and stops dead.

Julie is wearing Nico’s shirt.

Honestly, Karolina would be surprised that Julie could fit in it, but that particular shirt didn’t actually belong to Nico, but rather, it was a shirt that Nico had bought for Karolina. It didn’t mean that Karolina didn’t instinctively think of it as Nico’s shirt, though.

“Karolina?”

Karolina shakes herself a little, trying not to hear ‘Karrie’ falling out of Nico’s mouth after a long day, trying not to hear ‘Kar’ from Nico’s lips whispered in the sugary sweet moments, trying not to hear ‘Karolina’ gasped in the darkness of the sheets, Nico’s nails dragging long, red marks across Karolina’s back.

‘Karolina’ was the most common during those last months, though.

“Yeah—it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Julie still looks cautious, but she smiles. “Okay.”

“Shirt,” Karolina says for the second time, and puts their plates in the sink. She trots off towards the glorified cupboard that served as the room for her in-unit washing machine and dryer. Karolina never took these for granted—having them in her actual apartment had saved her life so many times she couldn’t really count them all.

Karolina picks Julie’s shirt out of the washer and throws it into the dryer. She starts the machine and shuts the laundry room door behind her, breath shaking, head beginning to ache again.

Nico’s shirt. Nico’s lips. Nico’s bra on the carpet next to Karolina’s bed in the mornings. Nico’s black lipstick on the bathroom sink next to Karolina’s pink one. Nico’s eggs that she liked lightly scrambled with too much pepper, Nico’s sandwiches that she liked with turkey and honey mustard, Nico’s pizza that she liked with pineapple and bacon. Everything about Nico had stuck to her forever ago and stayed there—like the honeyed love Nico poured on her had caught everything about her and Karolina would never wash it off. Karolina’s hands drop to her thighs and she ghosts a finger over the usual trail Nico would make with her tongue.

Karolina wonders if she’ll ever get over her.

She opens the laundry room door.

Julie is still here, sitting at the dining room table on her phone. Karolina takes in a deep breath—no sense in being unpleasant. And at least this time she didn’t kick someone out of her apartment, so it’s a start.

“It’s in the dryer,” Karolina says, mustering a cheery smile. “Should be about 45 minutes. Wanna hit Starbucks and we can get it when we’re done?”

“Sure,” Julie says, barely glancing at her. Karolina frowns, but understands completely, so she finds her tennis shoes and ties her hair up in its usual style of half-up, half-down.

She wonders if Nico would even recognize this version of her.

Julie follows closely behind as Karolina tiptoes carefully down the staircase leading down to the ground level of her apartment building. Karolina lives on the third floor, which conveniently kept her from going out and doing things when she was binge drinking alone on her couch.

Starbucks is less than a block from her building, and less than five blocks from where she works at the very local boutique. Most days, they’re deader than a doornail, and Karolina can sit in the back with her latte and dick around on her phone. Some days, they’re busy, and she has to actually sell things. She prefers the busy days to the slow ones—they pass by a lot faster.

Karolina pushes open the Starbucks door. They’re already hit with their morning rush, which doesn’t surprise Karolina at all. She hopes Alex is working today. They talk sometimes, since they were in the same friend group before…. Amy.

Karolina peers over the old couple in line in front of her and, sure enough, Alex is taking some grouchy old man’s order. She waves. Alex sees her, but doesn’t acknowledge her other than a smile. It’s good enough.

“You know him?” Julie asks.

“Yeah, he’s an old friend.” That’s the best way to put it , she thinks. “We’ve known each other for years.”

“That’s really cool,” Julie says. “Did you grow up here, then?”

“Yeah—we had this whole friend group, ‘cause our parents had this charity organization and they were all really close, so we all just pretty much grew up together.”

“‘We all’?”

“Yeah, um, me, Alex, Molly, Chase, Gert, and—” And Nico.

Julie’s expression morphs into one of concern. “Ex?”

“Yeah,” Karolina grunts, but the word hits her in the gut. It never got easier to hear.

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” They’re nearing the front of the line, now—they must not be particularly busy today.

“What do you usually get, here?” Julie eyes the menu. “I don’t go a whole lot.”

“Caramel latte,” Karolina says easily. “And I always tell Alex to put extra foam and a few pumps of hazelnut. He gives me his discount, otherwise I wouldn’t even try it.”

Julie hums. “The white chocolate mocha sounds good.”

Karolina nods. “I like that, too.”

The arrive at the front counter. Alex breaks into a grin.

“Hey, Kar. Who’s your friend?”

“Coworker,” Karolina says quickly before Julie can respond. Julie frowns, probably wondering how many times she’s said this lie before.

Not many , Karolina thinks. I’m just better at lying than I should be .

Thing is, Karolina had grown up religious. Her parents had raised her with a strong moral code, a strong sense of fairness, and an aversion to lying. She’d been startlingly honest growing up—so honest, all of her friends made fun of her. Gert and Alex would make sure Karolina wasn’t nearby when they were planning on pulling something against the rules, and Nico was in charge of keeping Karolina occupied.

Of course, as they got older, ‘keeping Karolina occupied’ meant a different thing entirely, and maybe Karolina’s aversion to lying did too. Maybe Karolina learned to lie to her parents, her friends, and then herself. And now, she just can’t stop.

So it isn’t surprising that Alex believes her.

“What’ll it be? We have the PSL back,” he says with a wink. “Plus, this year, we’re unrolling the PSL with chai.”

“Oh, that sounds awesome,” Karolina says. “One of those.”

“Upselling, baby.” Alex punches something down on his register. “And you?”

Julie squints. “...White chocolate mocha, I guess.”

“You want that hot or iced?”

“Hot.”

“What size?”

“...The biggest one.”

“Venti WCM, hot, and a venti chai PSL, hot.”

Julie frowns. “You didn’t ask Karolina any of those questions.”

“Didn’t have to,” Alex laughs, taking out two cups and writing Karolina’s name on one, marking down their drink specifications. “Your name?”

“Julie.”

“Alright, Julie,” Alex says, and then writes his number on the cup lid. “Since I know Kar’s not getting her head out of her ass anytime soon, I’m free this weekend.”

“Liar,” Karolina says, pulling out her wallet. “You’re working doubles on Friday and Saturday.”

Alex shrugs. “I make time for pretty girls.”

Julie snorts. “We’ll see, Alex.”

Alex grins for real, and ushers them along to wait for their coffee. Karolina frowns, wondering if Alex was so caught up in his heart eyes that he forgot to give her his discount. She decides it doesn’t really matter.

They take seats in the two armchairs by the window, both of them squinting from their hangovers.

“He seems nice enough,” Julie says.

“Think you’d go for it?” Karolina asks. Julie shrugs.

“Kinda hoping to get another bite out of you, but I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

Karolina’s eyes go wide. “What?”

Julie prods her. “You’re not over your ex. I get that, and I’m not gonna put myself through being a rebound. Totally understandable.”

Karolina sighs. “I’m that much of a mess, am I?”

“Yeah, but it gets better,” Julie laughs. “It took me a while to get over my first girlfriend, too.”

She wasn’t my first , Karolina thinks. But she was my only .

“I guess,” Karolina sighs. “Sorry.”

Julie shrugs. “I get it. Plus, you have hot friends, so it’s all good.”

Karolina laughs at that. “I guess so.”

Julie gives her a smile. “I hope things get better for you.”

Karolina knows she means it genuinely. Karolina’s used to the concern from Chase and Gert and Molly (Alex less so, but Karolina talks to him way less often, so she’s not sure he even knows the state she’s in), but getting this kind of concern and compassion from a complete stranger—it makes Karolina wish she was over Nico at all, just because Julie’s just so great that she deserves a chance.

But Karolina’s always been about fairness, and she knows this wouldn’t be fair. So she sighs.

“Thanks.”

They get back to Karolina’s apartment as the dryer ends, so Julie calls a Lyft pretty much immediately. They exchange numbers, and then Julie is gone. Karolina wonders if she let a good thing go. She wonders if she could’ve ever had a relationship with Julie, for real—or if Nico would’ve had just as tight of a chokehold on her heart as ever.

She mopes around for a bit, wondering what kind of life she’d be leading now if she and Nico had never broken up. Again.

Her dishes are dirty and her coffee is cold, but Karolina can’t muster the energy to do anything about it. She drinks her cold coffee and sits on her couch, propping her feet on the coffee table that’s so cluttered and stained she can’t remember what color it used to be. A dead succulent still sits as the centerpiece, which is honestly impressive. Karolina managed to kill a desert plant that literally needs, like, a tablespoon of water a year.

Nothing about her television seems interesting to her (she’s not sure if it still works, honestly, and she’s been too scared to try), so she ends up scrolling twitter. When she opens the app, she sees a recent tweet at the top of her feed that sparks her interest like nothing else.

@gertiess: can’t wait to take my two week vacation <3

@chasethedays replied to @gertiess: ugh yes we’re gonna knock it out of the park this time

Since when were Chase and Gert going on vacation? This definitely piques her curiosity, so Karolina opens her texting app and, after thinking better of texting Gert, texts Molly.

karebear: so where r gert nd chase going?

Karolina waits patiently for all of three seconds before her phone goes ba-ding! And Karolina reads Molly’s reply:

molls to the walls: SHIT DSFKJFDSKJHSDF

Her phone buzzes again.

molls to the walls: YOU WERENT SUPPOSED TO KNOW

Karolina doesn’t have time to reply before she hears a knock at her door. She frowns at her phone, knowing she shouldn’t let the Gert and Chase thing go, but the fact that someone is knocking on Karolina Dean’s door at eight in the morning means it’s either important, or they don’t know her at all. So she gets up and peeks through her door’s peephole.

Lo and behold, a head of purple hair and a puppy-eyed face greet her.

“Kar? It’s Gert and Chase, let us in.” Gert peers through her glasses at the peephole, which means she knows Karolina’s there. Karolina sighs loudly. No escaping now.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says aloud as she unlocks the door. She’s suddenly aware of how much she must really look like a raging alcoholic—no bra, a sweater and sweatpants, unbrushed hair, and cold coffee in her hand. Add in the bags under her eyes and the desolate expression that was as much a part of her as anything else, and she must look homeless. Or… like an alcoholic.

“God, just in time,” Gert says, bustling past Karolina into her kitchen. Chase follows after giving Karolina a friendly hug.

“Good to see you,” he says.

“You too.”

“It’s not good to see you,” Gert scolds, looking with horror at Karolina’s mountain of unwashed dishes. “You look like a rat that hibernated for thirty months too long.”

“God, I wish,” Karolina says, flicking broccoli off of… she doesn’t even know how old that plate is. Gert shrieks as it lands near her foot.

“You smell like vomit and booze.”

“I don’t remember throwing up,” Karolina says, frowning. She didn’t notice any vomit when she woke up, but maybe Julie threw up in the shower or something in the middle of the night.

“You can’t even remember throwing up,” Gert says. “How many times have we told you—”

“‘Alcoholism is unhealthy, nobody should drink as much as you do, you can’t replace your feelings with wine, et cetera,’” Karolina says in what she thinks is a pretty good imitation of Gert’s voice. Gert frowns. Chase laughs, but the glare that Gert shoots him shuts him down quickly.

Karolina’s impressed they’ve stayed together as long as they have, honestly—they started dating less than three months after Karolina and Nico had gotten together, and they’ve been together since. Karolina’s sure that Chase has an engagement ring, somewhere, and he’s waiting to ask. She’s also sure Gert will say yes. They’re just… that couple. So reliable and certain, that if they broke up, well—what hope was there for the rest of them?

Not a whole lot to begin with , Karolina thinks, but that’s just her usual self deprecation back at it. Gert and Chase are great together, and even through Karolina’s self hatred and general dislike of people being happy and in love, she can admit that they work well.

“You need to soak up the sun,” Gert says. “Which is why Chase’s rich parents have arranged for the four of us—you, me, Chase, and Molly—to take a two-week vacation to Miami.”

Karolina’s eyes widen. “Miami?” The opposite coast? Gert knows they live in L.A., right? Pretty much the sunniest place on Earth?

Gert crosses her arms. “You need a change of pace. Every other GKS campaign failed because we didn’t remove you from your environment. I know it takes fifty days to break a habit, but this will be a good start.”

“For all of us,” Chase says, and Karolina wonders if there’s something more in the gleam in his eyes than just excitement at being away from home. “So go ahead and call your work, ‘cause there’s no way you’re getting out of this.”

“Who knows?” Gert says, strolling over to Karolina’s fridge and peeking inside. “Maybe you’ll meet some hot model to steal your heart and get you right. Also, when was the last time you even made chicken?”

Karolina has to think about that. “I don’t think it’s chicken.”

Gert drops the Tupperware she’s holding. “My mistake.”

Karolina sighs. It’s not unusual that Gert’s pushing for Karolina to move on, again, but she’s really not in the mood (when is she ever?), so she ignores the comment. Karolina doesn’t have much of a heart to steal, anyways—she’d given hers away three years ago, and still hadn’t gotten a refund on it.

Love is a rip-off.

Gert and Chase (mostly Gert) nag and harass Karolina into packing and calling around, making sure work won’t try and call her in (“It’s a family emergency, it just came up, I’ll be unreachable, etc.”) Her boss is indignant enough to make Karolina wonder if she’ll still have a job when she gets back, but at least it’s taken care of. Chase mostly occupies himself with cleaning at Gert’s direction—the dishes, the bathroom, the clutter on every surface. Karolina warns him to stay out of her closet (she still has some old things from Nico that she goes through every now and then, and can’t bring herself to throw away), and he agrees easily.

“And we’re picking up Molly after this, so hurry up! The flight’s at noon!”

Karolina stops in the middle of going through her dresser, looking for any clothes that she owned back when they were all inseparable teenagers that spent most of their days together. The only relic from that era that she still owns is an old cropped sweater with a rainbow patch across the chest. She likes it well enough, still, but Gert’s words distract her.

“You just thought to tell me this today ?”

Gert shrugs. “The more advance we give you, the more time you have to try and wiggle out of it.”

Karolina frowns. It’s true , but it still stings to hear.

Chase calls out from the kitchen, “Hey, babe, did you want to look at these?”

Karolina’s seen it before, but it’s still a sight to see Gert’s body language completely change, a big, dopey smile on her face as soon as Chase speaks to her. Gert could be in the worst rampage of her life, but one word from Chase, and she melts into a pile of lovesick goo.

Karolina remembers how that felt.

“What are they?” Gert shouts back. Chase appears in the doorway and Gert turns to look at the items he’s holding, which turn out to just be some old photographs that Karolina hasn’t thrown out yet. One of them has a ring of coffee on it.

“Oh, look at this one,” Gert says, pointing. Karolina squints—they’re all young in that one, because Amy is alive, and Molly can’t be more than ten. Judging by Alex kissing Nico’s cheek, it must’ve been that time period—that one year that Alex and Nico were dating, and then Nico ended up dumping him, and Karolina doesn’t even remember why.

“You look so cute,” Chase says, pointing at Gert’s long, straight brown hair. Gert elbows him.

“Okay, mister braces,” she says, and Chase pouts.

“I only had them for like, two years,” he whines. Gert laughs.

“Yeah, ‘cause if you had them for longer, I’d have ended up dating Eiffel out of high school instead of you.”

“ Eiffel? ” Chase says with mock offense. “I can’t believe you’d pick Eiffel over me just because I had braces.”

“Or would’ve had,” Gert corrects him. “In this alternate timeline where you had your braces on a month longer, I would’ve taken Eiffel to prom instead of you, thus beginning a lusty and passionate relationship that lasts for two years before she dumps me by flying to New York to be with her new boyfriend.”

Karolina winces. She knows Gert probably doesn’t remember but… that’s pretty much what Nico did to her.

Gert’s eyes widen and she covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh, Karolina, I…”

“She didn’t mean it like that,” Chase says.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—god, I feel awful…”

Karolina nods. It doesn’t matter, right? It’s said and done.

“It’s okay.” Karolina smiles, hoping the painted, false look can somehow mask the open, gaping wound that Gert’s words ripped into her heart. “It’s been two years, right?”

Gert and Chase exchange a look . “Alright,” Gert says. “If you say so.”

“I do,” Karolina says, folding her last pair of shorts and placing them in her bag, on top of her favorite pair of clubbing heels so Gert won’t see the shoes. She slaps a hand on her purse, which is on top of her laptop. “Got everything I need.”

Gert snorts. “You know they won’t let you bring alcohol on the plane, right?”

Karolina shrugs. “I can always buy it during the flight.”

Gert gasps. “Don’t you dare .”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?”

“Yes, and I’ll throw a giant hissy fit in the middle of the airplane. Nobody wants to deal with a five-foot-two Jewish dwarf standing on her seat, screaming.”

Karolina’s head aches harder at just the thought. She wonders if her Advil is wearing off.

“Fine. Whatever. Just… let’s go get Molly.”

There isn’t much objection, just Gert and Chase finishing up their cleaning routine so she can ‘still come home to a clean environment’ when she gets home. Whatever lets them sleep at night.

Karolina wrestles her bags into the trunk of the orange 1993 Volvo that Gert affectionately named ‘Roberta.’ The thing barely moves, but Gert refuses to give it up, and Chase enjoys the challenge of keeping her running (although even just negotiating being able to look at the car must’ve taken quite a lot of work), and so Roberta remains. Karolina shuts the trunk carefully, scared that if she slams it too hard, the whole thing might come off.

“Molly’s place, it is,” Gert says cheerily, plugging her iPod into the AUX converter that she has in her tape deck. It’s kind of quaint, honestly—reminds Karolina that some people don’t have Mini Coopers with Bluetooth audio and built-in GPS. Karolina’s spoiled by her car, which is why she’s careful to never drive it drunk. Which means she pretty much never gets behind the wheel.

Karolina curls up in the half-cluttered backseat and finally looks down at her phone again to text Molly back.

karebear: they just picked me up sigh

karebear: gert said to text u we’re on our way  

Karolina stares out the window. Molly’s place is just around the corner from Karolina’s work, so they actually talk more than Karolina talks to pretty much anyone else. Molly nearly always has flowers or some sort of present with her for her girlfriend, Klara, which is a lot of impression for a person that has never, in fact, interacted with Karolina, nor has Karolina even met her. The only reason she even knows what Molly’s girlfriend looks like is because she’s Molly’s lockscreen, and she only knows even that because Klara is kissing Molly’s cheek in the picture and there’s a big rainbow heart drawn around it. Karolina has a similar picture as Molly’s contact picture, except it’s Gert and Karolina kissing both of Molly’s cheeks. Molly had insisted that everyone use that picture for her, so it became law.

molls to the walls: lit fdskjhfsdkjsdf tell gert i have old lace

Old Lace is Gert’s anxiety Yorkshire terrier, although nobody’s really sure who does more supporting in the relationship. Molly is the only person Old Lace can stand to be around without Gert, so oftentimes, when Gert can’t keep up with a dog and her daily responsibilities, Molly will babysit.

karebear: doesnt she already know???

molls to the walls: .tell her old lace misses her then

molls to the walls: [ATTACHMENT: 1 IMAGE]

“Old Lace misses you,” Karolina says, holding up her phone to show Chase the picture but speaking to Gert. “Molls sent a picture.”

Chase coos at the picture for a moment and waits for Gert to stop at a red light, then shows her the picture. Gert sighs.

“She’s only been there for, like, a week.” Gert rolls her eyes. “Drama queen.”

Karolina takes her phone back to text Molly.

karebear: gert says she’s a drama queen

They’re mere blocks from Molly’s apartment, judging by the way the palm trees started to become close-knit desert shrubs and cacti. This was the less pretty side of L.A.—modest, but still beautiful to any outsider.

molls to the walls: she’s perfect but go off

Gert pulls into the apartment complex that Molly lives in—Meadow Springs. Molly’s work is just across the street at the pharmacy, which is partially the reason she and Klara moved into this building—the other reason is that it’s one of the only decent apartment complexes with a rent cheap enough for two slightly-more-than-minimum-wage workers can afford.

“Is she ready?” Gert asks, putting the car in park. Karolina shrugs. Gert rolls her eyes, grumbling, but gets out of the car, Chase closely on her heels. Karolina knows she should follow them, but her head is still hurting, and the car is nice and quiet…

Karolina wakes to Molly climbing into the backseat next to her.

“Kar!” Molly says delightedly. Karolina didn’t even know how tired she was, but now Molly is hugging her, and Old Lace is licking her face, and Chase is beaming, so she can handle this. Maybe this trip won’t be as bad as she thinks.

Karolina barely remembers going through security, boarding, and the actual flight. She’s pretty sure she slept once they actually boarded, but all she really remembers is waking up a few times because Molly is prodding her to order soda or get up so she can go to the bathroom, and she’s grateful she’s not Chase, who has to get up every twenty minutes because of Gert’s nervous travel bladder.

She doesn’t dream. Hasn’t in a while. Most of her nights are restless, dreamless, sleep so intoxicated or so deep that she if she does dream, she doesn’t remember it when she wakes. She doesn’t remember a lot of things, lately.

Does she really hate herself so much?

Karolina doesn’t know. She doesn’t know if the alcohol is from self-hatred, or wanting to forget Nico, or some unholy combination of the two, but she knows it’s escapism. And she knows, objectively, that running away from her problems won’t fix them, but it’s worked so far.

Two years is a long time to be betting, though. Karolina sighs, wondering if Gert’s finally gotten to her. She regrets being on the plane, now—Gert would smack any liquor she purchases onto the floor, and then she’s just wasted both money and good alcohol, so it’s not worth it. Karolina wonders if this trip might be good for her.

Molly spreads the blanket over both of them and opens her laptop, insisting that Karolina watch Mamma Mia with her again, and Karolina isn’t one to object, so they watch Amanda Seyfried and Meryl Streep dance around a Grecian island until their hour-long layover in Atlanta.

Gert tugs them through the Starbucks line, complaining about the lack of coffee variety in the rest of the United States that isn’t the Pacific Northwest (Karolina had heard many a psalm sung of Roaster’s from Gert), and Karolina gets a PSL for the second time that day, this time with ice. It’s technically only two in the afternoon, but it feels a lot later—which is understandable, considering that they were all three hours behind on their body clocks.

Karolina sleeps the rest of the way to Miami.

Gert and Chase manage to keep an eye on Karolina for all of five seconds until leaving her to her own devices, mostly just stretching their legs and enjoying the beach cabana that Chase’s mom had rented for them for the next two weeks. The late September breeze keeps the weather from being too hot, and the ocean is much warmer on this coast than the West coast, so Karolina can scrunch her toes in the sand without feeling like she might freeze to death.

It’s nice—really, really nice. The deck hosts a grill that Chase can try his hand at and ultimately fail, the cabana is just charming , and they even have a pool. What’s not to love? Karolina has to admit—the carved driftwood furniture, the spiral staircase leading to the bedrooms on the second level, the open kitchen, the white carpets—it’s all magnificent. Karolina can taste the salt on the breeze, and it tastes like a new start.

Until she crashes in her bed after one of the longest days she’s had in a while, and she can’t sleep.

She tosses and turns for hours, or what feels like hours, anyways. Her head won’t leave her alone, drowning her with guilt and thoughts of Nico.

I didn’t try hard enough. I let her walk away without so much as a fight. I should’ve tried to stop her, should’ve tried to make her see, should’ve—

She can’t take it. Karolina throws the blanket aside and looks at the clock. 10:36.

Well. No wonder she can’t sleep.

Karolina totters out of bed—she’d shower, but she just showered that morning, and showering twice in a day always made her hair feel dry and brittle. So she slides open her suitcase as quietly as she can, digging through her clothes until she finds what she’s looking for.

A glittery, sparkly, pink dress with a neckline so low cut, if she moved right, her belly button would be visible. The skirt is form fitting and falls to a few inches above her knees. It’s one of Karolina’s favorite clubbing dresses, but she doesn’t actually club very often, so it’s rarely worn. Karolina prays she remembered the matching heels, when—yes! The dark red heels with bows and ribbons that drag on the ground behind her when she walks. They match the accents of the dress, which Karolina is ridiculously proud of herself for—even if, when you scrutinize closely, you can see that many of the ‘accents’ of the dress are just wine stains. Karolina loves it, and that’s what counts. She shimmies the dress on, shoving her day clothes back into her bag in case Gert comes in and sees them on the floor. Stepping into her heels, Karolina twirls a little in front of her reflection in the patio door. Perfect.

Now, Karolina peeks out of her bedroom door just a crack. Gert and Chase are still cuddled on the couch downstairs watching What’s Your Number? and arguing loudly.

“The whole point of the movie is that it doesn’t matter how many guys you’ve slept with, you can still find ‘the one,’” Chase is saying hotly.

“This movie starts off by instilling the misogynistic stereotype that women will perpetuate these beliefs, though!”

Great. They’re occupied for at least the next two hours, if not longer, so that they can finish the argument. Karolina closes her door as quietly as she can, and—after grabbing a jacket out of her bag in case she gets cold—leaves through the patio door leading out to the cool night. She gets to a safe distance from the cabana before calling a Lyft to the club she’d scoped out on Google before they’d gotten to Molly’s. It’s called Rockwell, and it looks like enough of a hit that Karolina can get blackout wasted. She’d been planning to save it for later in their trip, maybe when she’d convinced Gert that they should get drinks to celebrate her two weeks of sobriety, but that’s out the window, now.

Karolina leans her head on the window and listens to the Lyft driver’s music the whole way there. She doesn’t try to speak to her, which is fine, because Karolina doesn’t try to speak to her either. She wonders how many drunk girls this woman has driven home. It’s a Wednesday night, so probably not many right now, but there were always the people like her—on vacation, or irresponsible enough not to care about work in the morning, or desperate millenials who want to drink to forget, just for a second, how much they hate and despair the crushing weight of the blood pumping in their veins.

She steps into the club with a flash of I.D., and it’s easily the most high-energy place she’s been, like, ever . It’s 11:04 and people are absolutely raving to the music Karolina can’t even hear, just the earsplitting bass that thrums her heartbeat into its rhythm.

Karolina wonders if this is a mistake. Gert would say yes. Drunk Karolina would say no. She wonders what Nico would say.

Then she decides she’s tired of caring what Nico would think. She left her, so why should Karolina still be broken and miserable two years later when Nico’s probably living it up right now in some classy, high-society lounge with champagne and fancy cucumber sandwiches—meanwhile, Karolina’s in a dirty, overcrowded club with too-expensive beer and people grinding on each other on the dance floor because there’s hardly any room if you want to get away from the people grinding in the corners.

Karolina weaves her way through the crowd until she finds the bar, which is surprisingly easy. She’s developed a talent for it.

“How much scotch you got?” Karolina asks after she flags down a bartender. He raises his scruffy black eyebrows up at her.

“However much you want.”

“Two glasses, then, on the rocks,” she says.

“Wanna start a tab?” He asks through a magnificent mustache and beard combo. Karolina can’t stop staring at the way the blue light reflects off of his bald head.

“Sure,” she says, realizing her reputation hasn’t followed her here. He nods and leans down below the counter. “Glenfiddich, please.”

His glasses catch a glint of the light. “Expensive taste, girlie.”

Karolina shrugs. “I’m a kept woman.”

He shakes his head, smiling, and pours her two glasses over ice. She takes a sip of the first one and melts into the taste a little.

Maybe Karolina drinks too much. Maybe she doesn’t care.

Karolina’s on her third glass when she starts eyeing the crowd, thinking about getting up and dancing. Not really considering it, yet, just pondering—usually it takes four or five glasses to make her get up off her ass and disappear into the crowd, lose herself in the bodies around her.

One particular beauty has been catching her eye since she walked in the door, though—Karolina watches as she reappears now, wearing the most disgustingly attractive black dress she’s ever seen. Karolina doesn’t know if it’s the light, but she thinks the girl’s hair is blue, and she’s got a tattoo on her arm of… something. Karolina only sees flashes of it while the girl is dancing, and even then, it’s hard to make out.

So Karolina finishes her glass (the bartender clears his throat at her, so she pays for the three glasses she’s already had) and makes her way over to her. Karolina gets closer, closer, until they’re close to each other, could reach out her hand and touch her, and they make eye contact.

The dress is even more stunning up close—a sophisticated cut with slits in the skirt that went all the way up to her hips. Karolina’s mouth feels dry at the flashes of skin she saw when the girl spun.

Interestingly, the girl also looks almost exactly like Nico. Her hair is blue, obviously, and Karolina’s pretty sure Nico’s mole is on the other side of her mouth, but wow—she looks eerily identical. Karolina decides if this is a drunken daydream, she doesn’t want to wake up.

Karolina dances with her—badly, but dances nonetheless. They stay near each other, dancing closely but not quite touching, not quite meeting, not quite colliding. Karolina’s heart aches.

The girl eventually tugs her back towards the bar, and it’s only when she stumbles, and Karolina catches her, that she realizes they’re both way more drunk than they should be.

“I’ll buy you a drink,” the girl says with a smirk. How is Karolina going to refuse an offer like that?

“Only if you show me that tattoo,” she blurts. The girl—not-Nico, Karolina decides—gives her the sexiest smile Karolina has ever seen, and God, she might be in love.

“Which one?” She asks, and Karolina instinctively knows she would’ve whispered it, but they’re half-shouting to be heard over some remix of Ocean Eyes. Karolina’s mouth feels dry.

“There’s more?”

Not-Nico laughs. “Of course.”

Karolina purses her own mouth into a sly smile. “You might just have to let me see them, then—I’m dying to know.”

The girl takes Karolina by the hand and waves the bartender over.

“Just a glass of Bailey’s for me,” Nico—not-Nico, Karolina reminds herself—says. She turns her brown, beautiful eyes to Karolina, and it’s getting harder to remind herself that this isn’t Nico.

Isn’t she allowed to pretend?

“Glenfiddich,” Karolina says to the bartender, who’s already nodding (it’s the same one from earlier. He gives her a wink.).

“I used to have a girlfriend that loved that stuff,” the girl says, and Karolina’s interest is immediately piqued. Not-Nico scrunches her nose in a very Nico-esque way and continues, “She kinda looked like you, too.”

Karolina laughs. “Well, I used to have a girlfriend who liked Bailey’s, and she looked like you, too.”

Not-Nico eagerly takes her drink from the bartender’s hand and sips from it before replying, “The hair’s new, actually. Just got it done last week. Needed a change, you know?”

Karolina nods, her head blurry from the drinks. If she pretends—and she’s good at pretending, lately—the girl who’s lap she’s nearly sitting in is Nico, and Karolina just wants to pin her up against a wall and kiss off all of her lipstick, let her hands wander.

Maybe after a slap in the face, but that’s if this was real Nico. And it’s not, so what’s the harm in pretending?

They finish their drinks, and Karolina’s head has gone from pleasantly buzzed to wobbly, hard-to-see dizziness. Now, it’s not hard at all to pretend it’s Nico’s body that she’s tottering after as not-Nico tugs her out of the club and into a car, and it’s not hard to pretend it’s Nico’s lips she’s kissing as she kisses not-Nico with the kind of reverence she hadn’t shown since Nico had left her, and it’s especially not hard to pretend it’s Nico’s neck she’s kissing as she kisses not-Nico’s neck in the bedroom of an apartment Karolina can only assume is not-Nico’s.

The girl’s lips wander from Karolina’s to her neck, and from there, to her chest, and Karolina's jacket is shed, and then their dresses, and her lips are pouring on Karolina’s breasts like honey, and Karolina can’t remember the last time someone had loved her so well, so right .

That’s a lie—she can. It was Nico.

Nico’s (is this Nico? Karolina has decided to pretend really hard) lips trace down Karolina’s waist, and then Karolina finds herself backing into the bed, her fingers digging into Nico’s back. She stumbles and falls, pulling Nico down on top of her, and Nico laughs a little, but they’re right back to it fairly quickly. She doesn’t even care that the last time she had sex in a bed, she was sitting on Nico’s face and she came more times than she can remember—because this is worth it, isn’t it? Nico’s tongue is slow, even, trailing along Karolina’s skin in slow, antagonizing paths that aren’t getting to her underwear fast enough .

Nico used to do this, Karolina remembers. Get her hot and heavy and then tease, make her wait, make her bite her lips and dig her fingers in and groan and moan and just everything to make actually getting her to climax as easy as possible. God, Nico just knew everything that made Karolina tick.

Karolina suddenly remembers that not-Nico had never shown her her tattoo. Clumsily, Karolina makes a grab for Nico’s arm, who squeaks in surprise. Karolina squints, her vision blurred.

“Is it… a heart?”

Nico shakes her head. “It’s a rose.”

Karolina rolls that in her head, hoping it might actually process. So far, nothing has. “That’s really cool. What’s it for?”

Nico shrugs. Karolina barely sees the movement—just the brush of curled blue hair (it is blue, but just the ends of it), and the motion of her hair brushing her shoulders distracts Karolina thoroughly enough that she doesn’t even hear her response.

She kisses Nico again, pretending that they’re teenagers again, drunk for the first time, knowing nothing but the intoxication and the feeling of each other’s lips on their bodies. Karolina remembers the first time she and Nico had sex—clumsy and anxious, but eager and intimate nonetheless. And then as they undressed each other more and more, as the weeks turned into months and they were still together, their fingers became experienced, their tongues wearing familiar patterns—their bodies became less like uncharted waters, and more like the maps that you hardly look at anymore because you know the roads on them by heart.  

Even in Karolina’s drunken state, she knows that this is the first time in two years that sex has felt less like an escape, less like something to pour into the void, and more like coming home. More like fitting puzzle pieces back together after having been worn out and discarded for so long.

And even in her drunken state, she wonders if she’s still pretending, as she falls asleep with Nico’s jasmine shampoo in her nose and her hands cupping Nico’s hips that fit so perfectly against her own.

The funny thing is… Karolina doesn’t think that she is.

Chapter Text

The first time Karolina and Nico have sex, it’s awkward and mediocre. Nico remembers how it happened—their parents had thrown a party, and pretty much everyone attended. They’d snuck off during the late hours of the party, just before people started trickling home, with stolen cups of soda and cake to eat. It helped that Karolina’s house was a fucking mansion, so her bedroom was far enough away that any noise they’d make would be drowned out by the pleasant chatter of various benefactors and donors who’d contributed to the Dean fortune. Nico remembers how Karolina leaned against her door to shut it, sighing in relief.

“Everything okay?” Nico asked, already digging into her slice of cake. It’s lemon flavored, which isn’t her favorite, but she’ll take it.

“Fine,” Karolina said back, a small smile on her face. “Just not a big fan of sharing you.”

Nico smiled back, a mouth full of cake so she couldn’t really respond, but she knew a blush was creeping into her face.

“If it makes you feel better,” Nico said, swallowing. “I’m not great at sharing you, either.”

Karolina hummed, sipping on her cream soda that she plucked from Nico’s other hand. “Guess we both have some work to do.”

“Or not,” Nico grinned, cake forgotten as she pulled Karolina a little closer to her. Karolina gave in easily, caving into the kiss that Nico hadn’t even asked for yet, but they just knew each other so well that there was no asking, anymore—just communication through touch, through their eyes, through their tongues that pushed on each other in novice, tentative ways.

“Let me set this down, God,” Karolina said, pulling away with a small giggle. She moved to set her soda and Nico’s cake on her bedside table, but Nico followed her, so as Karolina turned around, Nico was right there, pressing another kiss to her jaw. Karolina sighed.

Their kissing became more, became hungrier. Their mouths that had barely had time to learn the other’s bumps and grooves were taking the reins, taking them further than they’d ever talked about, and then Karolina was backing into her bed, and Nico chasing her, until they were parallel to each other, nose to nose, staring into each other’s eyes as Karolina’s back hit the mattress, Nico right on top of her.

Karolina’s blue eyes were wide, nervous, and a little bit clouded—from just the passion, or something more, Nico didn’t know. What she did know was that she’d never done anything like this before, and she was pretty sure Karolina hadn’t, either, but that was what their whole relationship was about, right? Learning how they fit together.

“Are you okay with this?” Karolina asked, her hands sliding against Nico’s lower back, exposed from her shirt starting to ride up. Nico tried not to shiver.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Are you?”

Karolina grinned and leaned up to kiss her, hard and affirming. “Absolutely.”

Nico started with Karolina’s shirt, tugging it over her shoulders and letting her hands explore Karolina’s newly exposed chest. Her skin was warm, and a mole sat above her right collarbone. Nico moved to kiss it, but stopped just before her lips brushed it.

“Is this okay?”

Karolina nodded, breathless, and so Nico began kissing all over Karolina’s chest, enjoying sucking small bruises into her neck, listening to Karolina whine as her fingers pushed deeper into Nico’s back, and her breathing became more ragged.

Karolina finally came to her senses, because then her fingers pull on Nico’s shirt, and Nico didn’t mind assisting her at all with that endeavor. She threw her own shirt over her head, and then Karolina’s hands explore her chest, her fingertips grazing Nico's collarbone and neck, hands tentative around her breasts but not really shying from them, either. Nico enjoyed the attention, especially from Karolina, who was looking at her with a kind of marveling in her eyes, and Nico knew instinctively that this was right. This was how they fit together.

“You’re incredible,” Karolina said, her voice barely above a whisper. Nico leaned down to kiss her.

“So are you.”

Nico wakes to the sun in the window filtering through the blinds, shrouding her bedroom in morning light. Her bed is warm, her room pleasantly cool, and the scent of vanilla means that it must be Karolina’s hands that are wrapped around Nico’s waist, one cupping her stomach, the other clutching her hip. Nico sighs, content. Everything is as it should be.

Except.

Except.

Nico broke up with Karolina two years ago.

If it weren’t for her current pulsing hangover, she’d shoot out of bed and start yelling, crying, screaming, just something . Beg Karolina for forgiveness. Kick her out. Something .

Instead, all Nico can do is freeze. She doesn’t move for a moment, trying to decide if she’s overreacting, trying to discreetly figure out if it really is Karolina—anyone can smell like vanilla.

But judging from the way that her hands are holding Nico in exactly the way that they used to—especially after Nico was recovering from anorexia, Karolina had been so loving of her stomach pudge—Nico can only come to the conclusion that yes, it is Karolina, whose breasts are pressed to Nico’s back, whose hair still smells like vanilla and cinnamon after two years, whose hands still hold her as if nothing had changed at all.

Nico sits up, careful to not wake Karolina. She buries her face in her hands, because how can she not? She slept with her ex, who still looks as gorgeous and perfect as ever. Her hair is longer, she has a new tattoo underneath her armpit, and her body’s filled out a little more since they were nineteen, but it’s definitely Karolina.

Karolina , who had always been the cooling rain in a thunderstorm, had always been so sure of herself, had always made up for Nico’s insecurities with unlimited and unconditional love, had always been so solid and sturdy that Nico knew she could close her eyes and fall, and Karolina would catch her, no matter what.

(And judging by the soreness in Nico’s legs, she still fucks like a Greek goddess on ecstasy.)

It’s not fair that Nico’s ex is a walking, gilded daydream, especially when she’s just lying there like a Renaissance painting, snoring softly and completely unaware of Nico’s near-breakdown just inches away from her.

The irony of it isn’t lost on Nico, at least. She knows all too well what Karolina went through during the last vestiges of their relationship, and if she wasn’t a coward, she might’ve actually tried to save her from drowning on the sinking ship that Nico didn’t know how to bring in to shore. But Nico was a coward, and still is, and if this wasn’t her own goddamn apartment, she’d just slink out and run home with her tail between her legs, wondering what in the goddamn hell happened to make everything go so wrong, for so long. But it is her apartment, so she can’t run. She can’t hide. And those are pretty much her only two reactions when the going gets tough, so she doesn’t know what to do. Karolina and her had been the fight and flight instinct, together, but apart… Nico’s just someone that books it at the first sign of trouble.

Nico looks at the clock. 9:58. She has to be in at work in an hour, but first… she has to deal with this.

Nico takes in a deep breath and moves to stand up from the bed, first intending to get dressed, then, after a moment, to shower. Except her legs will not work. At all. She can move them, but just the slightest effort shoots fire through her thighs, and if she winces in pain, her abs also alert her to the pain they’re in. Her whole abdomen aches . Nico suppresses a groan and hobbles her way into her bathroom, knowing Victor won’t be awake since he works night shifts at the warehouse, so she doesn’t bother getting dressed first. She looks at herself in the mirror, and God—what a mess she sees.

Her hair looks like it’s had hands running through it nonstop, her neck and chest are covered in bruises and bite marks, not to mention the smeared pink lipstick all over her mouth and face. Nico ghosts a finger over it, deep in thought, before remembering it’s Karolina’s lipstick. She rips off a sheet of toilet paper and wipes the marks from her face, somewhat trembling as she discards the paper in her impeccable trash can.

Because that’s what her life looks like now. Impeccable. Her apartment is clean and minimalist—the millenial dream. She works full-time as the secretary to a private interior designer, she eats three meals a day and drinks eight glasses of water, she wears flawless makeup, she’s always manicured, and she works hard to maintain that near-perfection, throws herself into it, because she enjoys the challenge. It’s engaging and rewarding, and Nico appreciates having a clean apartment, a clean bed, and a clean appearance. So, basically, she cannot have Karolina Dean, the queen of all things chaos, in her life again. And she especially can’t have Karolina Dean naked in her bed when she has to be at work in an hour.

Nico has trouble getting her knees to bend to step over the rim of the tub. She ends up grabbing the shower curtain, the other hand against the wall, as she tries to force her extremely crabby thighs to function. Honestly, this is pretty typical, after Karolina. Nico thinks her legs might actually be working better than usual.

She manages to shower just fine, although she notices her neck is sore, too, which means Karolina sat on her face, probably. Nico sighs. She can’t even be mad, just disappointed at how easily they’d fallen into themselves. It’s her own fault for getting drunk on a Wednesday night, and then not only that, but seducing the first girl that just happened to look like Karolina (plus, the chances of it actually being Karolina were so slim that Nico didn’t even consider that it might be—she’s in Miami, for God’s sake). So, the fact that it really is her lying in Nico’s bed right now is Nico’s own fault. She’d had an awful day at work, plus one of the clients had looked eerily like Karolina, which had led to the rest of the day being spent thinking about her. Nico’s pretty good at not thinking about Karolina, lately, but every so often, there will be one teensy little reminder that just brings it all back, and then Nico can’t eat for days. She can’t sleep. She just lies in bed and wonders where they’d be now if she hadn’t fucked everything up.

And then Karolina actually shows up, and Nico, already drunk, doesn’t wonder how she got there, or remember the fact that they broke up, or notice that her hair is longer and her thighs somehow even more toned, or anything, except that it’s Karolina. And deep down, she never really got over her. So of course, her drunken heart just takes her to Karolina’s arms, her lips just instantly colliding with Karolina’s like they’d never been separated at all.

It’s not fair , how easily everything just slipped back into place. And now Nico’s here.

She sighs, one hand clutching a towel to her body, the other on her bedroom door. She wonders if Karolina’s awake. Even if she isn’t, it’s time to face her problems—the one thing that Nico was never very good at.

She pushes the door open. Karolina’s awake, and texting rapidly. It takes her a second to glance up, and when she does, Nico can’t quite place the conflicted emotions that fill her eyes, and she bites her lip.

“It is you,” Karolina says, and Nico wants to shut her eyes, wants to block out the way that Karolina’s husky voice makes her knees weak, wants to apologize and kiss her and tell her she’s sorry, sorry for everything that she did, sorry for leaving her behind.

But none of those words come out.

“Yeah, it is,” she manages, but just barely.

Karolina’s eyes set into tired lines. Nico winces, knowing she deserves whatever comes next, knowing but still thinking her heart might shatter if she has to let Karolina walk away. It’s not fair of her, to hope Karolina might not ( especially since, given the chance, Nico had walked away from her), she knows it’s selfish, but she can’t help it.

“I thought you lived in New York.”

Nico scratches the back of her neck. “That was two years ago, Kar—” The old nickname, ‘Karrie,’ very nearly slips out of her mouth. She doesn’t think Karolina will take kindly to it. “—olina.”

Karolina’s mouth twitches when Nico says her name. She wonders if the twitch is good or bad.

“Forgive me for not keeping up with you.”

Ouch. The words sting like salt in a wound.

“...I moved out here last year, after I finished out my degree.” Nico moves to stick her hands in her pockets, but she doesn’t have any, just a towel. It’s more than the sheet Karolina has pushed up against her chest, but it still leaves her feeling vulnerable.  

Karolina purses her lips. “I see.”

Nico looks away. She wants to answer the unspoken question, ‘why didn’t you come back?’ , but she knows better. She wants to say she’s sorry for this whole night, sorry she ever even stumbled back into Karolina’s life, unwelcome and unwanted, but Karolina has always hated Nico’s apologies, and now isn’t any different.

So Nico sighs. “I have to go to work.”

Karolina looks at her, unreadable. Nico wants her to say something, ask why she left, ask ‘is that it? After two years?’ . But even if she does, Nico doesn’t have an answer for her. And Karolina doesn’t ask. Instead, she gets up (Nico averts her eyes, no matter how much she just wants to stare as long as she’s able), puts her discarded dress back on, grabs her heels from the floor, and steps out of Nico’s room without another word.

Nico chokes back a sob. Now isn’t the time, especially when her head is pounding, and Karolina hasn’t left her apartment yet, and Victor is still sleeping, and she has to be at work in half an hour.

So Nico gets dressed in the first matching outfit she can find, and follows Karolina out of her room. Karolina’s standing in the kitchen, her hair now pulled back into a high ponytail, and Nico notices a tattoo on Karolina’s back, up on her shoulder blade. It’s just a simple triangle, but it’s recent. Recent enough that Nico doesn’t remember it, at any rate.

“Gert’s gonna be here in ten,” Karolina says. Nico winces—she hasn’t texted Gert since she gave her the new address, which means Gert definitely knows exactly where she’s going.

Ten minutes to talk , Nico thinks, but even just the thought is deafening. So she sits at her table, which has two chairs, one for her, and one for Victor. There’s a single, wilting rose in the center, in a porcelain vase that Nico found on Etsy.

Karolina leans against the fridge, not looking at Nico. Nico stares at the rose, wondering how Karolina can be standing right there, mere feet away, and yet, she’s as unreachable as if she were on another planet.

It’s an eternity before Nico hears Karolina’s phone buzz, and Karolina looks down at it.

“She’s here,” Karolina says, standing up straight. She’s reaching for the doorknob, and Nico can’t do anything but watch, mute, as Karolina walks away, walks out of her life, and Nico still can’t do anything at all. As Karolina slams the door shut behind her, the rose sheds another petal, and Nico watches it drift down, down onto the small pile already gathering below.

Mrs. Sheila takes one look at Nico and sends her right back home—Nico normally would’ve objected, but her head is throbbing and she can barely hobble through the door in her heels, so she agrees. Except the next bus doesn’t come back around for another hour and a half, which means she’d better get walking.

Or she can text Victor, but he’ll probably make her pay for gas or something. She decides to give it a shot anyways.

neeks: hey can u come get me from work sheila sent me home

She hopes he doesn’t ask why. He probably won’t even have to ask, honestly—just take one look at her and know something’s up. She shivers, not from the cold, but from the thought of everything that’s happened to her in the last twelve hours. Her phone buzzes.

vicdonalds: u got gas money ho

Nico can’t help it—she laughs a little. Rolling her eyes, she texts him back:

neeks: ofc bitch, i got arbys money too ;3

She taps her phone back and forth between her fingers, impatient. She sends another text.

neeks: ill be at the bus stop

She shoves her hands in her pockets and, after a moment of consideration, takes off her heels. It’s easier to walk without them, and the bus stop is a good block away. Victor texts her back:

vicdonalds: ://

vicdonalds: fine but only bc u said arbus

vicdonalds: *arbys

Nico grins. At least Victor is always there to bail her out.

She doesn’t end up waiting at the bus stop for long before Victor pulls up in his shitty Cavalier that he refuses to part with, despite it being over twenty years old and held together largely with duct tape and prayers. Nico doesn’t even have to look up to know it’s him—she could hear Bleeding Love from a block away. The specific rattling of his car is so familiar at this point, it stalks her dreams sometimes when she’s missed the bus. She barely glances at the one tire that seems to perpetually be on a spare, or the license plate that says VCTRS, or the back windshield that’s so covered in stickers, it’s a wonder Victor can see through his rearview mirror at all. Hell, maybe he can’t. But he pulls up next to the bus stop, and Nico opens the passenger side door.

“When are you gonna learn to drive, Minoru?” He asks her as she slams the door shut behind her. “Also—seatbelt. You still owe me for the last time we got pulled over ‘cause someone wasn’t wearing it.”

Nico frowns and clicks her seatbelt.

“Whenever you stop giving me rides, Mancha,” she says, already digging out her wallet from her back pocket. She likes the small, discreet leather that easily slides into her bra or front jeans pocket—it’s easy to access and easier to hide. Now, she tugs out a ten dollar bill, and forks it over for gas, as she’d promised. Victor takes it from her as soon as they get back into traffic.

“And as long as you can’t drive, I’m giving you rides,” he says, checking over his shoulder and then merging into the turn lane. “So it would seem we’re at an impasse.”

“We’ve had this argument every time you’ve picked me up for the last two years.”

“Maybe so.” Victor brakes, and Nico winces at the godawful grinding sound the car makes. Every time Victor drives, she prays to the Maiden, Mother, and Crone that his stupid car doesn’t fall apart underneath her. Judging by how Nico’s day is going so far, though, she won’t be surprised if it does.

“Arby’s?” Victor asks, and Nico smiles, grateful that they have a routine, grateful that she still has this—her life that she’s built. Nothing’s changed. Everything can go right back to normal, and she can pretend it never happened.

Except it did, and Nico can’t help but remember the smell of vanilla and cinnamon in the morning, so comforting, so steady, so… Karolina .

Damn her.

“Yeah,” Nico says, even though Victor is already pulling into the parking lot. “Usual stuff.”

Victor shakes his head and leans out the window to place their order in the speaker. There isn’t usually a line this early in the morning, given that Arby’s mostly does lunch.

“Two orange cream shakes, three orders of Oreo bites, aaaaaand,” Victor hesitates, and Nico wonders what he’s planning on. “An order of loaded curly fries.”

Oh. Nico’s favorite hangover food. Victor knows her well, and he’s showing it. The cashier reads off some total that Nico doesn’t even hear—she’s so deep in thought. She hands Victor a twenty, and they pay for their food—Nico ends up only getting three dollars back, but whatever. At least Victor’s obsessed with giving cashiers change from his car mug, so she always gets exact dollar amounts back. As the cashier hands Victor the food, and in turn, Victor hands Nico the food, Victor’s phone begins to blast Call Me Maybe—the ringtone he’d assigned to his boyfriend, Sam.

“Sam!” Victor says, picking up his phone. “Babe, you never call, what’s up?”

Nico looks out the window, munching on her Oreo bites. The shakes are her favorite, though—just like an orange Creamsicle. She remembers how much Karolina loved them…

She doesn’t hear Victor and his boyfriend firing back and forth at each other the whole way home. She doesn’t really see anything, just quietly eating her Oreo bites and thinking. Thinking about Karolina, obviously, but mostly just thinking about how much she’d fucked up. As per usual.

“Hey, well—when did you say you were coming back to visit? The week of the 14th?” Victor frowns. “I think that works—I should have off work. See you then, babe—bye! Love you, too!” Victor hangs up as they pull into their apartment complex. Nico’s worked her way through an order of Oreo bites and about half her shake, and nibbled on the fries. Victor frowns when he looks over and sees her having barely touched the fries.

“What’s up, Neeks?”

Victor’s the only one that gets to call her that—he coined the nickname two years ago, and it stuck. He only uses it when he wants something, or when he’s trying to get something out of her. Like now.

She sighs. How does she even begin to explain the conflict she’s feeling? Especially when all of it is her fault, and this all could’ve been avoided if she didn’t objectively suck as a person.

“Does this have anything to do with the girl you brought home last night?”

Nico’s eyes snap to his. They’re not judgemental, they’re not angry, they’re not even teasing. Just gently concerned Victor, looking out for his best friend.

“...Yeah,” Nico admits, and it feels like the weight on her chest loosens a little. It’s easier to tumble the next words out. “It was Karolina.”

Victor’s eyes widen. “Karolina?”

Nico nods, grim. Victor takes a sip of his shake.

“Wow. What’s she even doing here?”

That reminds Nico—she never asked Gert why they were in Miami.

“Great question—I’ll text Gert.”

“Gert’s here, too?”

“Yeah, she picked up Karolina from our place this morning.”

Nico takes out her phone and scrolls through her message history until she finds Gert at the very bottom. The last text she’d sent was over a year ago. Nico hesitates—is this weird? To text someone she hasn’t talked to face-to-face since she left L.A. two years ago, and then only to ask about her ex?

Yeah, it’s weird, but Nico doesn’t have much of a choice, if she wants answers. And maybe some closure would be nice, too. It doesn’t take but another second to gather the resolve to type out the words:

neeks: why are you guys in miami then

She hardly has to wait a moment before Gert responds.

yogert: at last she speaks

yogert: for ur information we’re on vacation, and i dont appreciate u getting karolina drunk to hook up with her, we’re on a get karolina sober campaign

yogert: so id appreciate it if you would at least try to get back with your ex without the help of alcohol. which means talking to her like a normal person

yogert: [SENT A LOCATION]

yogert: we’re gonna be here tomorrow pretty much all day, u know how kar loves animals. and im pretty sure u have something of karolinas to return, so. see u tomorrow

yogert: if u bring alcohol/get drunk/get karolina drunk ill personally remove ur bones

Nico can’t really think of how to respond, so she holds up her phone to Victor. His face goes from surprised to amused fairly quickly, which Nico finds a little tasteless, but it’s Victor. Asking him to be serious is like going outside and asking the sun to be a little gloomy for once.

“So Gert wants you to show up… and talk to Karolina.”

When put like that… the concept is terrifying.

“Where even is that location?” Nico squints and taps the link. It takes a second to load, but when it does—

“Zoo Miami?”

She and Victor exchange a glance. “She wants you to get back together with your ex at a zoo?”

Nico has to admit—it doesn’t sound like the greatest plan. Nico doesn’t do well with crowds, or eyes on her, or causing a scene in public… the list goes on. Nico can’t do this. And all she has to do is text Gert and say no, say forget it, say it was all a mistake and she’ll never see them again.

But something makes her hesitate. That same something that pulled her lips to Karolina’s like a magnet, the same thing that drew her hands along Karolina’s thighs, the same thing that brought them together again, despite everything in between—Nico doesn’t know if it’s divine or just sheer bad luck, but she’s managed a second shot at this. Somehow.

Is she going to screw it up again? Nico bites her lip—she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know if she deserves a second chance.

neeks: see u there

This is a bad idea.

Nico’s not only going to the zoo to meet up with her ex whom she hasn’t spoken to in two years and then slept with, but she’s also meeting up with an old friend, said friend’s boyfriend that Nico isn’t on bad terms with but it’s still awkward, and said friend’s younger sister. Plus said friend’s dog, Nico guesses.

Victor drops her off at the gate, and Nico snuggles a little tighter into her jacket. She’s not sure where it came from, but it smells like cinnamon, and it’s a welcome, cozy fleece on a chilly day. Her hair blows in her face, but she doesn’t mind—it’s not long enough to pull back, anyways, so she can’t really do anything about it. She didn’t have the heart to ask Victor to stop for coffee on the way here, and she’s regretting it, so she resolves to get some inside the zoo.

The admissions lady is way too peppy for ten in the morning, but maybe that’s just because Nico hates waking up before noon on her days off.

“22.50,” the woman says. Nico pays, and she receives a wristband that basically just means ‘you paid for the day but we won’t let you back in if you don’t have this on,’ so she tapes it on while she wanders aimlessly through the front gate. She has no idea if Gert and Karolina are even here yet. She has no idea what she’s even doing here, honestly—what is she thinking? What is she supposed to say? What is she expecting to happen?

Nico doesn’t have an answer to any of those questions, but she does spy the café, so she walks over to that, eager for the warmth of some hot coffee to clear her head. Her legs are still a little wobbly from that Wednesday night, which is impressive, considering the fact that it’s now Friday morning. Karolina really did get her right .

There isn’t as much variety as, say, Starbucks, but Nico does manage to get a mocha, and sits in a booth in the corner, sipping it quietly. She wonders if Gert’s here yet. She wonders what she’ll say.

Nico’s phone lights up with a new text. She glances at it, and she can’t stop her eyebrows from shooting up in surprise to see that it’s not a text at all, but, rather, a Snap. From Chase .

Nico opens it. It’s a group selfie of him, Gert, Karolina, Molly, and Old Lace, standing in front of the ostrich habitat. Molly is startled, clutching onto Karolina’s shoulder, shocked at the ostrich hissing at her in the background. Gert is tucked into Chase’s arm neatly, pressing a kiss to his cheek but side eyeing Molly, Old Lace tucked under one arm. Karolina is grinning at the camera with a kind of lightheartedness that Nico hasn’t seen from her in… years.

Nico doesn’t realize she’s staring at Karolina until the picture disappears, and she’s left with a blank chat history between her and Chase. Does Chase know who he sent it to? He has to—it’s not like Nico’s name would be anywhere in his recents.

Nico opens her texting app.

neeks: im in the cafe

neeks: did gert tell u whats going on

She sent the second text as an afterthought—Chase might not know that she and Gert had talked. He might’ve just been excited to share the fact that he’s in his friend’s town of residency with said friend.

ch(a cha slide)ase: yeah she did. We’ll meet up soon :^)

Nico frowns.

neeks: where u wanna meet ?

Her coffee is starting to get cold, so she drinks it a little more eagerly. It tastes pretty good, for overpriced zoo concessions, and she’s starting to hope maybe this won’t be a whole fiasco and a half.

ch(a cha slide)ase: idk. gert has an idea but she won’t tell me :( will keep u updated

Nico wonders why her friends (are they even her friends, still?) are suddenly so invested in her life, but she can’t say it’s not nice to talk to them again. Maybe one day they could resume a casual friendship, but for now, they’re tentative. She appreciates the effort Gert is making, though.

neeks: k thanks

If Nico were a betting woman, she’d definitely say Chase is feeling just as awkward about talking to her again. Although maybe his texts are just always like that—Nico doesn’t really know. But she does know that she’s out of coffee, and she has nothing to do but wait. And she’s never been good at waiting.

Karolina used to make fun of her impatience—giggle at her tapping her hands on the microwave, waiting for whatever she was cooking, tease her and tell her ‘no point in getting upset—if you could do anything to make it go faster, you would’ve.’ It’s a lot easier said than done, but Nico thinks about that sometimes when she’s starting to spiral. It’s become a checklist of sorts: ‘have I done everything in my power? If I have, then it’s out of my hands.’ It’s a toss-up as to whether or not it actually helps, but it’s comforting, nonetheless. Maybe just because of Karolina.

Her phone buzzes again, so she looks down to see a text from Gert.

yogert: chase says ur hangin out in the cafe like a pussy

yogert: if this is how u get ur girl back im not sure i want u back together tbh

Nico frowns, annoyed. Since when has Gert even glanced at Nico’s love life, much less cared enough to take it upon herself to proclaim herself the Love Doctor and fix all of Nico’s problems?

neeks: just getting coffee :// chase said u have an idea?

She doesn’t get a chance to wait for a reply, because the café bell tinkles, and Nico looks up to see Chase, Molly, Gert, and Karolina walk in.

Nico’s mouth goes dry. Karolina looks… incredible, as she always does. She’s laughing , and Nico doesn’t even have to hear her to remember what that sounds like—sunny, and warm, like whatever she’s laughing at is the funniest thing in the world. That was how she’d done everything—wholly, without restrictions or reservation. That was how she’d loved Nico , too, but...

Nico presses the heel of her hand to her eye to stop the tears that spring up. Not now. She blinks, and then she sees Gert waving at her, Old Lace at her side. Nico’s eyes flick from Gert to Karolina, who hasn’t seen her yet—but then suddenly she does, and her whole body language changes. Her laugh dies like a candle extinguished by a chilly gust of wind, her shoulders hunch in, her face sets in the tired lines that make her seem impossibly older.

Gert drags them all over to Nico’s table. Nico smiles nervously, unsure of how any of them are going to react, wanting to run, wanting to hide, wanting Victor to come get her so she can go home and wrap herself in the blankets on her bed and never, ever come out again. Luckily, Karolina looks like she feels much the same way.

“ Nico!” Molly shouts, half-running to her. Nico is honestly relieved to see Molly—she’s younger, so she probably isn’t as up-to-date on why Nico left, or why she broke up with Karolina, or why she cut them all off for two years. “Hi!”

“Hey,” Nico manages. It’s not enough to span two years of absence, but Molly’s presence fills that void easily.

“What are you doing here?” Karolina asks, her voice ragged. Nico doesn’t know what to say to her—all she can do is stare at the sun-kissed blond hair curling down to Karolina’s ribs, her bare shoulders speckled with freckles like a dazzling constellation, her mole on the side of her nose that Nico remembers kissing many a time, often followed by the words, ‘I love you, Kar,’— and she remembers how much she meant it, how much she poured those words from her heart every day with no thought at all, taking even just Karolina’s presence for granted.

She wonders if she’d do the same now, though. Wonders if she’d just make the same foolish mistakes again and again, because no matter how many times Nico wishes she could stop herself from fucking everything up, she wonders if she knows better, even now. And even if she does—Karolina needed that two years ago. Crawling back to her now is too little, too late.

“I invited her,” Gert says, and Nico doesn’t miss the look of raw betrayal that flashes over Karolina’s face before her features smooth over and she reassumes a look of cold indifference. Somehow, the deflection is worse, the withdrawing and putting on a face is a thousand times worse than anything Karolina could’ve said to her, worse than any angry declarations or heartbroken professions—those are Karolina. Karolina, the emotional maelstrom, becoming numb and quiet, because of her ? That’s the knowledge that burdens Nico, now—that she did that.

“...That’s my jacket,” Karolina says, and Nico looks down, startled. She’d just found this on her bedroom floor—although it does explain the cheery flower designs and warm, cinnamon smell. She rips it off too quickly and thrusts it at Karolina, not meeting her eyes. Unsure if she even can right now—too scared of what she’ll see. She doesn’t know what she wants to see.

“Did you see the ostrich picture that Chase sent you?” Molly asks. Karolina huffs, sounding surprised, which means that Gert and Chase did not tell Karolina about their planned meet-up. Honestly, Nico isn’t surprised—just mildly irritated that Gert decided to make her former relationship her new project.

“I did. It was really cute.” Nico offers Molly a half-smile, and Molly holds out her arms for a hug, to which Nico is surprised but grateful. Molly gives great bear hugs, after all, and Nico sure could use one.

“Hey, Minoru,” Chase says. He’s taller, now, his beard a little more grown out since they were nineteen. He’s holding Gert’s hand with one hand, the other is stuffed casually into his pockets.

“Stein,” Nico says, not unkindly. She’d have elbowed him, in another life, but this is now.

“I miiiiissed you,” Molly says, squeezing her tighter and tighter the longer she draws out the word ‘missed.’ “Karolina’s no fun anymore.”

Karolina frowns. “Am so.”

Molly blows a raspberry at her. “All you do is sit on your ass at work and mope.”

Karolina looks away. Nico can relate to the feeling, honestly—she’s sitting on her ass and moping a lot in these past 48 hours.

“Are you coming around the zoo with us?” Molly asks, beaming, and how can Nico say no? Chase looks eager, too, Gert looks like she’s scheming, and even Old Lace is interested in Nico’s presence, having already sniffed out her shoes and licked one of them—the only person unhappy about Nico’s presence is Karolina, who barely looks at her, who puffs out a breath and flicks her eyes away whenever they make eye contact, who doesn’t smile, who feels oceans and oceans away despite standing inches from Nico.

“I want to see the herpetarium,” Gert says, not waiting for a response. “I hear it’s pretty cool, here—the Komodo dragon habitat is supposed to be killer.”

And at that, Gert and Chase walk away, and Karolina stalks after them like an angelic shadow that probably models swimsuits on the side. God, has her ass always been that fantastic?

Nico frowns at her thoughts, but she follows the rest of them without complaint, falling into line beside Molly. Sure enough, it doesn’t take her long to start interrogating Nico.

“So… no one else will tell me why you left.”

“You were there,” Nico says, dodging the question. “You could’ve asked.”

“Yeah, but I was like, twelve, and you guys didn’t tell me anything .”

“You were sixteen.”

“Same difference,” Molly rolls her eyes. “I might as well have been twelve, to you guys.”

Nico winces. Yet another reminder of how her younger self had failed epically at thinking about other people.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just tell me what happened.”

Nico glances at Karolina. She’s wearing her jacket that Nico gave back, plus a nice pair of grey joggers that leave more to the imagination that Nico would like—but then again, she probably shouldn’t be thirsting over her ex’s thighs in a public zoo, anyways.

Still as gorgeous as ever, though. Nico can’t help but berate herself for letting such an incredible girl get away from her.

“We broke up,” Nico says simply, hoping to avoid further discussion. Molly probably would’ve rolled her eyes into the sun if she could’ve rolled them any harder.

“No shit. What happened? ”

Nico looks away from Karolina’s incredible thighs—pointedly not recalling the night that she’d licked every inch of them (and definitely not thinking about how she never ate whipped cream the same way again), rolling her tongue a little in her mouth.

… Maybe she’s thinking about it. In her defense, that kind of thing is hard to forget.

“Earth to Nico?”

Shit. She’s staring again. Molly looks amused, and Nico flushes bright red—how easily she’s fallen into this again.

“It’s… complicated.”

“It was after Amy died, right?”

Whoop, there it is. Molly hits the nail right on the head—a perfect summation of all of Nico’s insecurities and fears—all of it stemming from the night Amy died. Of course, it was no one’s faul —a car accident that couldn’t have been helped. But Nico has never been the same. And poor Karolina caught the brunt of it.

“...Yeah.”

“I… I’m sorry,” Molly says, holding out her hand to offer a kind of side-hug. Nico leans into her, and she wonders why she never confided in Molly before. Maybe her teenage self was just too busy being a teenager.

“It’s okay,” Nico says, offering her a sad smile. “It’s over, right? It doesn’t matter.”

Molly follows Nico’s gaze to Karolina’s backside (that Nico is not thinking about how it felt, lean and smooth and magnificent under her fingertips), and frowns.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“It is,” Nico says, a little more forceful than necessary. Maybe she’s trying to convince herself. “Karolina’s moved on. I’ve moved on. There’s no point in dragging it all back up again.”

Molly shoves her hands in her pockets. “Okay.”

Nico nods, once, twice. “Okay.”

They arrive at the herpetarium behind Gert, Old Lace, and Chase, the former of whom is eagerly bouncing from tank to tank, ogling at the lizards, turtles, snakes, and every other kind of reptile housed in its habitats. Chase is following her loyally, oohing and aahing whenever she points excitedly, and honestly, it’s adorable. Chase is clearly uneasy near the alligators and massive snakes that could crush him, but he seems to share her excitement over the tiny snakes, and especially the turtles. Every time Gert points out a turtle, shrieking but quietly, somehow, Chase lights up and immediately starts reading the placard next to the glass.

Nico follows them, unsure of where to go or who to talk to—Molly’s probably tired of her, and Karolina’s not an option, but Chase and Gert are both occupied with each other, far too much to notice Nico trailing behind them like a lost puppy. She kind of feels like one, too, when she glances over her shoulder and sees Karolina chatting with Molly, light and happy, like nothing’s wrong. And then she looks back at Nico, and that cheery disposition morphs into a sullen, closed one, and Nico can’t help but wonder how she became nothing more than a dark stain on Karolina’s past that she doesn’t want to remember.

Nico follows Gert and Chase through the exhibit, peering at the interesting reptiles but not really feeling interested, sometimes catching snatches of their conversation.

“—and then we don’t really have snakes in Portland, so imagine my shock when Old Lace starts barking her fucking head off at this rattlesnake —”

“—oh my God, the zoo named this tortoise Saisonne, how cute —”

Nico doesn’t really pay attention, until they get towards the exit, and the last exhibits are the crocodiles. Gert positively squeals in delight, and Chase has never looked more In Love. Nico checks Gert’s finger for a ring, just out of curiosity. Seriously, how can he be this In It and not have committed to it yet?

Gert leans over the railing, pointing at one of them. Old Lace is standing rock-still, pointed and at attention due to the fact that her person is closer to a crocodile than she should be. Nico finds herself off to the side, behind Molly a little, wondering where Karolina is. Gert is nearly hopping, and she says something about ‘this species is one of my favorites, Molls,’ when one of the crocodiles snaps suddenly, and Nico feels a hand grab hers, and tightly.

She looks down, startled, and even more startled to see the person it’s attached to. Karolina’s holding her hand.

Karolina seems to realize it at the same time that Nico does, because her fingers spring apart like a mousetrap. Recoiling. Nico tries to ignore the weight that settles in her veins at the thought.

“You okay?” She asks, but she’s not sure where the words come from. Karolina seems a little taken aback by the question.

“Fine,” she says, gruff and curt. “Just startled.”

Nico nods. She tries to forget the incident, but the feeling sparks a different memory—one of when they’d first started dating, and they’d gone through a haunted house—despite Karolina’s protests. Nico had persuaded her to go in with her, and then Karolina ended up carrying Nico out the other side because of how badly the whole thing had spooked her. She remembers how she clutched Karolina’s shoulders like a lifeline, and how one of the employees had actually looked at her and said, “dude.”

Oh, the irony of it. And they’re still hanging onto each other, even now, instinctively seeking out the other for comfort. Drawn back to each other again and again, despite everything. Or maybe Nico’s overthinking it.

Karolina draws away, seeking out Chase to giggle with him about something, and Nico feels a twinge of jealousy—even just at the fact that Karolina’s joking and laughing, so much more at ease with anyone else instead of her . Which—understandable, given their history, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

Gert either doesn’t notice the interaction, or makes note of it to interrogate Nico about it later, because she waves Nico over to point out a particularly interesting one that, if Nico squints, looks kind of like Victor. A little.

“If you look at it sideways, right? It looks just like him!” Gert exclaims, and Nico has to agree. If she tilts her head right, she can see it.

“Guys—I wanna check out the other stuff before we go hit lunch,” Molly complains loudly, so they leave the herpetarium, though Gert mourns the loss. Nico frowns and checks the time. 11:32. She pulls up her texts, quickly, and shoots Victor a message.

neeks: can u pick me up in like. half an hour maybe

neeks: theyre talking abt lunch but kars glaring at me a lot and i dont wanna intrude

She tucks her phone back into her pocket just in time to catch the tail end of Gert and Karolina deciding to go through the Arctic section of the zoo, which is excellent. Nico loves the polar bears, and she remembers that one of Karolina’s favorite animals to look at were the sea lions. She wonders if they’re still her favorite.

Her phone vibrates with a new notification, and she checks it to see the latest text from Victor.

vicdonalds: k but u been knew shed act like this u dumbass

vicdonalds: also doesnt the bus run near the zoo

Nico sighs and texts him back:

neeks: uve never taken the bus in ur life shut up

“I love penguins!” Molly’s saying as Nico puts her phone on silent and resolves to ignore the rest of Victor’s complaining. “They’re so cute!”

“They really are a feat of evolution,” Gert agrees. “Truly, one of Mother Nature’s weirdest successes.”

Chase expresses some interest in looking at the bears, particularly the grizzlies. And then Molly’s asking what Nico wants to see.

“The polar bears,” Nico says, quiet, wondering if Karolina remembers, wondering if it’s stupid to overthink such a question. Judging by the way Karolina’s gaze flicks away from her, she must remember.

“Polar bears are so cool,” Chase says approvingly. Gert rolls her eyes.

“Overrated. They class with lions in terms of how much work they actually put in, compared to the amount of popularity they receive as ‘apex predators.’’ Nico can hear the quotation marks in her voice. “Give me a real predator any day. Wolves are incredible—individually, they’re scary, sure, but a whole wolf pack is not only a lot of wolves, but they’ve learned to hunt as one unit, and that’s infinitely more terrifying.”

Nico rolls her eyes. She’s heard the rant a thousand and one times. She doesn’t say anything, though, because Chase looks positively smitten.

Karolina coughs. “Sea lions are cool.”

So she does remember.

“Oh, yes, I agree there. Though it’s probably not hard to eat fat birds that can barely walk.”

“They’re slippery in the water,” Karolina says defensively.

“Can we stop talking about penguins like they’re chickens, please?” Molly begs as they pass under a sign that says TUNDRA.

They admire habitats of wolves, bears, penguins, and pretty much every Arctic and Antarctic animal that Nico can think of. They’re moving on from the penguins, Molly reluctant but agreeing, when Nico notices that the next animal is the sea lions. Nico looks at Karolina, and—yep, she’s grinning, the reflection of her eyes in the glass shining with admiration and excitement, like she’s nineteen again, and they’re in the zoo as one of their first dates, and Karolina told Nico that her favorite animals were sea lions.

Nico remembers how she cracked up, then. “Sea lions?”

“They’re cute!” Karolina protested, laughing as well. “And smart! They learn tricks!”

Nico pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Karolina’s mouth. “Hmmm,” she’d said, teasing. “I hope that’s not why you like me.”

Karolina flushed, but she couldn’t make a sound. She was definitely still caught between the sea lion argument and the flirting, and she couldn’t handle both at the same time. Nico laughed and tugged her along to look at the habitat, then, and they’d sat for an hour just watching the fat mammals drift past them, occasionally doing a few tricks. Nico doesn’t know if that’s when she fell in love, but she knows that watching Karolina’s enamored face was an experience she’d never trade for anything.

And here they are again—at a different zoo, as different people, watching different sea lions, but at heart, they know. Karolina knows—Nico can see it in the way that she’s avoiding Nico’s gaze now.

They don’t stop for nearly as long, by the sea lions. They spend maybe a minute, just watching, and then they move on.

Nico finds herself longing for simpler days.

Nico tugs a flannel over her head, exhausted from her day. Victor had picked her up just as the others were getting ready to go to lunch, so his timing had been pretty much perfect—despite his grumbling all the way home. He peppered her with questions about her “date,” except he wasn’t calling it that (if this was anyone else, he would have. But it’s Karolina.) out of whatever little respect he had for her. Then, she’d gotten another cup of coffee and spent the rest of her day moping.

So now, after a long day of moping, Nico’s getting ready for bed. Well, she’s pretty much done getting ready for bed, except for brushing her teeth and washing her makeup off. And then maybe eating something, which she’d usually do before she brushes her teeth, but she’s halfway done now and she only just thought of it. So she spits the toothpaste into the sink and rinses her mouth, now thinking about what she wants to eat.

Nothing in the fridge that she can think of interests her. She’d just give Victor money to go to Walgreens, honestly, but Nico’s pretty sure they’re closing in ten minutes, so she sighs. Microwaved popcorn for dinner it is, then. Again. Except Victor hates when she eats popcorn late at night, so maybe not. Maybe she’ll just go to bed hungry and get something before work tomorrow.

She’s mostly through washing her face before her thoughts return to Karolina—three days ago, she’d have been appalled at how much she’s thinking about Karolina, lately, but now she’s just relieved at the small distractions from her. Now, it’s hard to go ten seconds without thinking about her. Now, she’s wondering if she ever stopped thinking about Karolina at all.

Nico looks at herself in the mirror— really looks. She wonders what Karolina sees when they look at each other. Does she see the tired bags under her eyes, or the creases in her face that are years older than she is, or the way her mouth doesn’t look like it’s worn a smile in ten years? Does she see those things, or does she just see the face of the girl who broke her heart and left her, broken and bleeding, without a second thought?

Nico wouldn’t blame her if she did. That’s all she’d see if she were in Karolina’s shoes.

Nico blows out a breath. Does she expect Karolina to forgive her? After that? After everything they’d been through, after the slow, quiet death of their relationship that Karolina bore in silence, suffered like a champion, quietly by her side until the bitter end? Does Nico even deserve that forgiveness?

She doesn’t know. Her hands curl unthinkingly on the marble countertop, and she swears she can see the weight in her eyes get a hundred pounds heavier. Maybe she doesn’t deserve a second chance. Maybe the selfish part of her wants one anyways.

Nico crawls into bed, underneath her heavy comforter and the white noise machine already playing thunderstorm sounds. Her bed has always been so comforting to her, soft and inviting, a place where she can curl inside of herself and be apart from the world for a few hours.

Except for the fact that Karolina has always been a thunderstorm, and now Nico doesn’t know how to sleep with the reminder, all too quiet but at the same time, deafening in her ears. Nico bites her lip. She remembers the first time she thought of Karolina that way, both cool and healing like the rain, and impossibly fierce and protective like the thunder. It had been the first kiss of their relationship, standing in the middle of a creek in the dead of night, in a thunderstorm. They’d snuck out, eager to rebel, eager to do something exciting and daring —the way Karolina’s lips had crashed against hers, clumsily, nearly in sync with a thunderclap had scared Nico out of her skin. That was what had cemented them as a couple. And then Karolina had picked up Nico and spun her around, and Nico remembers how she screamed and nearly burst into tears, begging Karolina not to slip on the rocks and drop her, and then she did , and they tumbled into the freezing water, a puddle of lovesick idiots too enamored with each other and their newfound, blossoming relationship to care. And Nico wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Now, though—now she’s alone, lying in her bed at close to midnight, listening to a cheap reproduction of a thunderstorm that only hammered every mistake Nico’s ever made further into her bones, wondering, wondering if Karolina’s thinking about her. Wondering if Karolina even cares about her anymore. Wondering if she deserves to be cared about.

Nico falls asleep to the thunder of her cheap speaker—though it’s a shit replica, compared to the thunder that she’d fallen in love under. But isn’t everything shit without Karolina?

Chapter Text

The day after the zoo trip is slow and uneventful. Karolina honestly suspects that Gert did that on purpose, to let her mull over the presence of Nico, but then again, it could be completely innocent. She doubts it, though.

Molly kicks her out to the pool after lunch, with Chase, while Gert and Molly finish cleaning up. She doesn’t mind lagging in the pool with Chase, but there isn’t much to do, and she’s bored .

Before, she’d fill her time by… drinking. And working. And crying. Now, she can’t do two of those things and she’s so sick of the third that she might cry just from being sick of crying. And above all, she’s sick of thinking about Nico. If she’d thought about her a lot before, the thoughts are relentless now. She spends every waking breath, every moment, every second thinking about her. Thinking about how royally she’d fucked everything up by meeting up with the love of her goddamn life after two years and immediately railing her into the mattress.

(To be fair, Karolina also got railed into the mattress. Her legs were sore well into the next day.)

Karolina wonders how she’s lasted these two years without Nico—it feels like just yesterday that Nico broke up with her. Tears spring to her eyes, unbidden, and Karolina shoves the memory down hard . She doesn’t want to think about that now. Or ever.

Chase wades over to the the floaty that she’s lying on, and he seems to see the face she’s making, because he frowns and asks, “You okay?”

“No,” Karolina says, her throat strangled and her eyes wet. She laughs, humorless and dry. “Not really.”

Chase lays his head on the side of the floaty. “What’s up?”

This is one of the things she’s always loved about Chase—unwavering support. He’s always willing to lend an ear, or a hand, or a shoulder to cry on, no matter what. Karolina wonders how she let all of her friendships, including her friendship with Chase, dwindle into dust.

“It’s Nico,” Karolina sighs, scooting around until she can sit comfortably. “She’s here, right? She lives here. And we’re here for another two weeks, and I think Gert wants us to get back together, or something, and I don’t… know what to do.”

Chase hums, thoughtful. Karolina didn’t realize how badly she needed to air out her grievances until her chest unknots a little, and it feels like she can breathe. She rattles on—

“And it doesn’t help that I slept with her, because I can’t stop caring about her. God, Chase, I care about her so much, and she doesn’t care about me at all , and it hurts.” Karolina buries her face in her hands. “It hurts so much, and I just want it to stop.”

Chase gives her a thoughtful nod. “I think I’d feel the same, honestly. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through—Gert’s it for me, you know? And Nico was it for you.”

Karolina nods, teary and tired. She’s so, so tired of being half of a heart, half of a whole. She’s tired of walking around as a silhouette, a shadow of who she should be, but ever since Nico swallowed up all of her sunlight, she just can’t find the energy to make more. What’s a sun with no one to shine on?

Nothing at all, apparently. Nothing worth being.

“Yeah,” she croaks, and Chase gives her a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t know how to help you, but I’m here for you. And I wish you knew that everyone else is here for you, too.”

Karolina smiles. “Even Alex, sometimes.”

Chase gives her a half-smile in return for her own. “He gives you his discount, right? That’s his own way of being supportive.”

Karolina laughs, a little less dry this time, a little more at ease. “I guess.”

“And you have Molls, and me and Gert…” Chase frowns, probably trying to think of more people. “And we care about you.”

“I know,” Karolina says, swirling her fingers idly in the pool.

(As if any of them came close to what Nico had been to her.)

(As if rebuilding her friendships would fill this hole in her heart.)

(As if Karolina hasn’t tried to replace Nico for years , and nothing’s worked—isn’t that why they’re here?)

Chase gives her a final, reassuring squeeze on her forearm. Karolina can’t help but close her eyes at the contact—it’s been so long since she’s even had just, like, a hug. Normal, platonic affection that she can sink into. And then Karolina’s alone, again, as Chase says, “I’m gonna head inside and see if Gert needs anything. You come get me if you wanna talk again, okay?”

Karolina nods, and then he’s gone. And she’s alone.

It’s not so bad, out here—the water is cold, the air pleasantly chilly, and she’s got a nice patch of sun on her near-bare backside. Perhaps a bikini in September isn’t the best idea, but goddamnit, it’s Florida, and she’s not going to waste a Miami vacation wishing it was warmer. Karolina lets her toes drift in the water as she dozes, not quite asleep, but not quite awake, either.

It doesn’t take long to start thinking about Nico—although she’s not sure she even stopped. Karolina thinks about what Nico and her would be doing if they were in a private, Miami beach house. They’d laze out in the sunlight and fall asleep on the porch hammocks, tangled together so deeply that an onlooker wouldn’t be able to tell where Nico ended and Karolina begun. They’d kiss sleepily in the mornings and laugh until one of them got up to make breakfast, they’d talk about nothing at all over hot mugs of tea just as the sun peeked over the horizon, but—and this is what Karolina wants most of all, out of everything she’s thought of yet—they’d hold each other without reservation, exploring the beach and the city, doing absolutely nothing at all—but as long as Karolina had Nico, she wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

The first time Karolina kisses Nico, it’s underneath a moonless night sky, in the middle of the woods. She’s breathless with excitement and the effort of actually getting here. But where is here, exactly?

The answer is this—a creek, one of Karolina’s safe places that she found years ago, after disappearing from some fundraiser of her parents’ in the park. She made a spur-of-the-moment decision to show it to Nico after she’d woken up in the dead of night to a text from Nico.

nico <3: im HELLA bored wanna sneak out

Karolina had bit her lip, nervous. Of course she wanted to—she’d follow Nico anywhere. But the thought of being caught thrilled in her stomach, made her hesitate.

karrie: ofc i do

karrie: want me to pick u up?

nico <3: u know it ;3

So then Karolina picks up Nico, and she’s bubbling with excitement. Nico doesn’t know where they’re going, and she’s impatient, but quiets down under Karolina’s teasing and presence. And then Karolina takes her hand as they walk the trails that have worn down over the years, careful not to make too much noise, and then they’re here. A gorgeous creek that runs right under the highway, ten feet wide and gurgling pleasantly. Nico’s delighted, and they shuck off their shoes to wade in the water, despite the early December chills in the air. Karolina doesn’t even notice the cold until rain is suddenly pouring down on her, colder than ice, and she hears the beginnings of thunder.

“Rain,” Karolina says uselessly. Nico laughs, her long hair already plastered to her face and neck.

“Never would’ve guessed, Karrie.”

Karolina inches closer to Nico, her skin starting to numb. A particularly loud thunderclap sounds, and Nico jumps, startled, practically into Karolina’s arms. Karolina stumbles, surprised. Nico blushes.

“Sorry,” she says, sheepish.

Karolina barely hears her. All she can think about is Nico’s lips, and how soft they must be, and how she desperately, desperately wants to kiss her.

So she does. She leans in and presses their lips together, too fast, too scared, too unsure. It’s clumsy and messy and altogether terrible. Thunder rolls overhead nearly instantly, and Nico starts underneath her. Karolina pulls away, just knowing she messed something up, but Nico seems to regain herself and she grabs Karolina’s face with both hands, kissing her back fiercely. Her lips are startlingly warm, and Karolina’s surprised—she’s being kissed for the first time in the pouring rain, their hands tangled in each other’s hair, their toes freezing and numb, bare in the icy water. And suddenly, Karolina doesn’t care that her feet are numb, or that freezing rain is soaking them so badly her fingers are going stiff, or that the sky lighting up overhead is startling them every couple of seconds—because she’s kissing Nico, and that’s all that matters. Nico is all that matters.

Before Karolina really knows it, she wakes up a little later to Gert chastising her at the side of the pool. It takes Karolina a second to even process what’s happening—she feels like her eyes had been closed for hardly a second before she heard Gert speaking overhead.

“And you’re all sunburned, too—” Gert grumbles. Karolina cracks an eye to see her looking down at her with some measure of concern. It’s nice to see, after yesterday. Karolina’s still pissed about that. Gert really had the audacity to invite her ex on a day trip with them, under the pretense of ‘we used to be friends with her, too—I thought it’d be nice to catch up,’ as if Gert hadn’t literally picked her up from Nico’s doorstep the day before, fuming. Karolina figured the Walk of Shame in the dress from the night before was punishment enough, but no—Gert had ranted the entire way home about her unhealthy alcohol habits, with the occasional breath just to say ‘I really am just looking out for you, Kar—I want you to get better.’ Karolina knows it’s from a place of concern, she knows Gert cares about her, and to some extent, she’s grateful. She’s grateful to have friends better than what she deserves. But she’s also tired—too tired to try and change, anymore. She’s spent two years on this road, and the thought of leaving it now is… daunting. Maybe that’s the real reason she turns to drinking more often than not, now—it’s just the habit of her heart to pick up a drink whenever Nico’s name tumbles from her lips. Maybe it doesn’t matter why she does it, anymore.

Karolina doesn’t hear the rest of Gert’s lecture as she follows her inside—although now that she’s thinking about it, maybe Gert didn’t lecture her at all. Maybe Gert’s tired, too. Good. They’re both tired of Karolina.

Gert sits her down on one of the kitchen stools and starts rubbing aloe vera into her back, wordless.

“I’m sorry,” Karolina blurts out, before she can think about it. Before she can stop the words, choke them down, suppress them and push them underneath the surface again. Gert’s gentle motions never stop.

“For what?”

“For… everything. Being a mess, I guess. Barely talking to you for two years.”

Gert stops, then. “Oh, Kar. You don’t have to apologize.” Karolina sniffles a little, but goes quiet as Gert drums her fingers on her bare shoulder, probably thinking. “Honestly, I feel terrible for letting you get to this point. I mean, you had a problem before you were even 21. That’s… life ruining. And me and Chase should’ve been looking out for you.”

Karolina shakes her head. “It’s not your responsibility—I chose this.”

“Did you?” Gert begins her movements again. “It’s not your fault, either—you didn’t know how else to deal with your problems.”

Karolina laughs, a little bitterly. “Interesting way to pronounce ‘Nico.’”

She can just see the wry smile tugging at Gert’s lips. “It’s not Nico’s fault, either, you know.”

Karolina feels her heart wobble a little. She wants to object, wants to break down and say ‘but it is , she did this, she’s the one that broke my heart and pushed me away.’ But she says nothing—instead, searching for the small part of her that’s never hard to find, the part of her that’s still head over heels in love with Nico. And she wonders what that part of her has to say, but it’s silent. Contemplating, probably.

“Yeah,” Karolina manages to choke out. “Yeah.”

“It’s true,” Gert says, using her thumb to spread the aloe over one of Karolina’s shoulders. “You were both young and stupid, and Nico’s just always been like that—she reacted to Amy‘s death the only way she knew how.”

“Which just means I should’ve tried harder,” Karolina says miserably. Gert sighs.

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault—your relationship was just too new and tentative to be able to withstand something like that happening.”

‘Something like that’ clearly refers to the car crash that Amy died in, but Karolina’s tempted to ask what Gert means anyways, just to be argumentative. She doesn’t, though—just sulks at the fact that Gert’s only confirming that her relationship with Nico was never anything to begin with. Too fragile. Too new. Like a tiny spiderweb, crushed by a drop of morning dew. Pretty to look at, but unraveling at the slightest pressure.

It hurts to think about—it’s never not hurt to think about. Because Karolina knows, she knows that she did everything she could to save their relationship (some days she feels like she did too much, honestly), but there’s always the tiny voice in the back of her head that says not enough, not enough, not enough . Whether it’s telling her that she didn’t do enough, or that she isn’t enough, Karolina doesn’t know. Maybe it’s both.

“I’d say you need to get some sun, but…” Gert knocks on the bottle of aloe. “Clearly that’s just another problem right now.”

Karolina barks a humorless laugh. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Kar. Did you want to do anything today?”

Karolina thinks about that for a second. She’d rather drown than have an empty day ahead of her, with nothing to fill her thoughts except her hands on Nico’s waist, their mouths crashing together, thinking about pretty much anything except getting over her. Karolina’s tired of it, but she can’t think of anything to do.

“We should go to the beach,” Molly says, walking into the room. She glances over Karolina, who’s still sunburned in her cheery blue and white bikini, sitting on the countertop, and Gert, who still has her hands on Karolina’s back. “Kar, I know Gert isn’t your type.” Molly shakes her head.

“She’s helping me with my sunburn,” Karolina says, rolling her eyes.

“Great. I’ll bring an umbrella for you. Where’s Chase?”

Gert sighs. “I don’t even know,” she grumbles.

“That’s a first,” Molly says with a giggle. “I’ll check in with him when we find him. Do we wanna go tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Gert says, before Karolina could object. She doesn’t know if she was going to object, honestly, but she’s still a little miffed that her decisions are being made for her.

“I’m gonna shower,” Karolina grumbles, but Gert shakes her head.

“I just spent five minutes putting aloe on your back—and you’re gonna wash it all off?” Gert tut-tuts . “Ungrateful. After all I do for you…”

Karolina shakes her head, smiling, somehow. “You want me to just lie around with chlorine in my hair?”

Gert mock gasps. “Karolina Dean, in anything but a saltwater pool? That’s a headline.”

“You joke, but I’m pretty sure that’s literally been a headline before.” Karolina pretends offense. “Being the daughter of rich people is such a burden, you know.

“I know, Karebear. Go shower.”

Karolina laughs. Maybe, just maybe—she’s gonna be okay. It’s easy to think that, at any rate, with Gert and Molly laughing in the kitchen and the walls of this house bright and cheery, the smooth wooden railing of the staircase underneath Karolina’s fingertips feeling old and wise. Old enough to have seen hearts in worse states than hers, for sure.

Did you heal them? she thinks, feeling the divots of the wood. It feels ancient under her palms. Did you show them how to be whole again, too?

As if in answer, her phone goes off—the only reason she knows is because it’s sitting in her room, and Karolina’s walking past when she hears it. She peeks her head in the room, but decides it can’t be important enough to warrant waiting another second to wash out the grungy feeling of chlorine from her hair.

So she gets in the shower, eager to rinse off the feeling of chemical water from her skin. The shower is warm, and if Karolina pretends, the steam is soaking into her skin, drawing the toxins from her body, making her new. Making her whole.

Maybe she’s gonna be okay.

She washes and conditions her hair with her trademark organic cinnamon shampoo, honestly just feeling grateful that the bottle didn’t burst in her suitcase. She’d thought about bringing it in her carry-on, but the bottle’s too big to be allowed on, anyways. Goddamnit, she forgot her body wash. Luckily, Gert uses organic stuff, too—less out of a weird need to feel connected to the earth and more out of an insistence to shit on capitalism whenever possible, but it works. Karolina sniffs Gert’s body wash, and she’s pretty sure it’s oranges that she smells. She doesn’t hate the smell of oranges, so she uses it.

Karolina towels off her hair and sighs, looking at herself in the mirror. She wipes the steam with her thumb.

Staring back at her is someone Karolina barely recognizes. Her hair is longer now than it used to be, her bangs a new feature of it. Her face is still specked with small freckles, but they’re more faint from two years of minimal sunlight exposure. Her body’s filled out a little more than it was when she was nineteen—her stomach a little more rounded, her hips a little more violin-shaped. But none of that is why Karolina’s struggling to see herself—it’s the gauntness of her eyes, the vibrant, oceanic blue they used to be dulled into the grey of a storm brewing on the horizon—a storm that’s always looming but never approaches, so she’s on edge, waiting for it. Waiting, but she’s been waiting for years now, and it never gets closer, but she never lets down her guard—just in case it finally breaks through. It’s how Karolina feels, at any rate—she’s been waiting for Nico to come down every day for two years. And now that she actually has, Karolina forgets the fact that she’s been hunkering down for years, preparing, bolting things down so they won’t blow away, and all she can do is stand in the rain and let herself be soaked.

Karolina turns away from the mirror and opens the bathroom door, letting the cold air dissipate the steam still lurking. She doesn’t look at her reflection again as she leaves, walking down the short hallway to her bedroom.

She checks her phone, wondering what the missed notification was from earlier. She’s surprised to see that it’s a text from Victor, of all people—but even more surprised when she undoes her thumbprint lock and sees what the text actually says.

victoria justice: hey, its victor, idk if u still have my number but i still have u saved as goldilocks so. idk i just wanted to say hi ig

Karolina stares at it for a minute, reading, sure she must have missed some words to make this all make sense. But no—Victor Mancha, Nico’s boyfriend, texted her. And from the way he worded it, it didn’t sound like he’d even thought about why Karolina might’ve stopped talking to him in the first place. Maybe it was out of jealousy, maybe it was out of anger, or hurt, but either way, she didn’t think Victor wouldn’t even know what he’d done to her.

Except maybe he did, and this is just a cruel prank. But Karolina doesn’t think that’s the case.

karebear: hey

It’s weak. A pathetic attempt at reconciliation, but honestly, Karolina has to wonder if she wants to give Victor the benefit of the doubt. She does, naturally, but then there’s that part of her that’s angry—angry at Nico, angry at Victor, angry at herself. Maybe at herself most of all, for still wanting to forgive them both.

victoria justice: hey

victoria justice: sorry is this awkward? i didnt think this thru

Karolina sighs and sets her phone down, unsure of how to respond. She ends up sitting cross-legged on her bed, her chin in her palms, her phone between her knees as she just stares at it. What does she say to someone who swept into Karolina and Nico’s broken remains and stole Nico away to New York, and then here, beyond any hope of reparation? At least if Nico had been there , they might have talked it out eventually. They might have seen clearly, if she’d never left. But then she did leave—with Victor—and whatever small, tiny hope Karolina had was crushed, horribly. Painfully. Completely.

So really, how fair is it to blow life back into that now, two years later, when everything they’d had was dead and gone, six feet under, the memory rotting in the dirt, facedown? It’s not fair at all, and it’s even less fair how easily Karolina falls for it again. Falls for her .

karebear: its fine i guess, i just didnt expect to hear from u

Karolina stops herself from adding an ‘ever again’ to the end of that text, no matter how badly she wants to. It’s all she can do not to be overtly cold and angry, anyways.

???: yeah its been a while, sorry

???: how are u? hows work and all that jazz

Karolina wants to put her face in the pillow and scream.

karebear: its work lol what u expect

It’s not a fair answer, but it’s an honest one. How has Karolina Dean been since Nico left her?

…

Fine. Just fine.

(It doesn’t matter that it’s a lie.)

victoria justice: fuckin mood dfskjsdhf

victoria justice: but fr its been 2 years and i havent heard a peep so. whats shakin

Karolina shuts off her phone screen, unable to think. Unable to form a proper response. ‘ What’s shakin’?’ Her goddamn heart, right now, that’s what’s shakin’—thinking about Victor texting her, of all people—Victor Mancha, local skateboarder, Overwatch pro (he only played Widow, though, last Karolina knew), survivor on solely on cherry Coke and Oreos. Victor Mancha, who didn’t steal Nico, since she didn’t belong to Karolina in the first place, but he was… a vehicle in Nico’s moving away from her.

Karolina’s not very good at being angry, unfortunately. So even if she wants to be mad at Victor, she can’t. Not really. How can she blame him for wanting Nico?

karebear: im working at lolas now, thats p much it. same old same old

karebear: im not very interesting ig

It’s a poor excuse. Karolina knows it—but she doesn’t want to delve into her severe depressive episode that’s spanned the past two years, and how she’s bounced from psychiatrist to psychiatrist, ridden a rollercoaster of medications that sometimes helped but usually didn’t, and the alcoholism that she’s still fending off with a stick. Really, that’s all just… a lot to catch someone up on.

victoria justice: literally everyone i know is a boring bitch dont worry abt it fsdkjhsdf

victoria justice: lolas? u used to like their shirts i think, thats cool

victoria justice: u still rooming in that palace of an apartment?

Karolina hesitates. Maybe this doesn’t have to be as hard as she’s making it out to be.

karebear: yeah, its cheap and spacey, so i like it. feels like im never in it tho cause i work all the time

victoria justice: god rt

victoria justice: i work night shifts mostly but i sleep whenever im home kfsdjsfdk i live in my bed or my car and theres no in between

victoria justice: it works out tho nico keeps the rest of the place clean and shes never home when i am to nag me abt my room

Karolina’s heart skips a beat. She doesn’t know how to react to the mention of Nico’s name, doesn’t know how to react to her name being dropped so casually , doesn’t know how to react to any of it.

karebear: oh. are u still dating, then?

She chews her lip, waiting for a response. Karolina doesn’t know if her phone dinging sounds a second later, or an hour.

victoria justice: what????????????????????????????no???????????????????????

Karolina’s breath catches. She hardly registers typing her response.

karebear: isnt. isnt that why u moved to ny together??

Victor and Nico aren’t dating. Karolina doesn’t know if this is a new development, or if it’s always been this way, but the revelation feels like ice dropped down her spine.

victoria justice: oh my god kar im gay

victoria justice: i have a BOYFRIEND

victoria justice: i wouldnt have done that to u oh. my god

victoria justice: no wonder u havent talked to me since we left holy shit

victoria justice: this is so terrible but im laughing so hard at the thought of dating nico like. god id hate to date her ksdjfhsdkjhsfdkjfds

Karolina physically can’t process the amount of information she’s receiving in short bursts, especially since Victor seems to be having a similar issue with processing. Karolina decides not to even react to Victor seeming to find the idea of dating Nico outrageous—that’s mildly upsetting, but not enough that she wants to devote much-needed brainpower to it.

karebear: i. okay

karebear: yeah that. might be why i havent talked to u since. maybe

She doesn’t even know herself, honestly, so the best she can do is a cryptic, passive aggressive text.

victoria justice: i wouldnt talk to me either if i thought that holy shit kar

victoria justice: u didnt like. ask anyone??? u just sat on that for two years?????damn

It occurs to Karolina, then, that Gert and Chase were probably aware of Nico and Victor’s relationship status. The fact that she never even thought to ask is something else entirely, but… wow. Nico and Victor aren’t dating. That’s… a lot to take in.

karebear: … i  guess

karebear: i dont know. it was a lot easier to not ask

karebear: kinda felt like i didnt have to ask, i guess.

Karolina bites her lip. She wonders how far the line is, if she crossed it. Is it a weird thing, to be texting the person who isn’t dating her ex that she’s still in love with, even though she thought they were dating for two years? Still in a towel from her shower?

Karolina sets her phone down as soon as that thought occurs to her, and she gets dressed in a simple sweater and shorts. She picks her phone back up to see three texts, sent within a minute of each other.

victoria justice: god i get that so much, i shouldnt have let you think that and i wish id known sooner, bc that cant have been easy to think

victoria justice: im sorry kar i never meant to hurt you

victoria justice: we can just. move on from this convo if u want i dont want u to feel awk

Karolina feels relieved at the thought.

karebear: please.

She frowns, then sends another text.

karebear: ...but thanks <3

Karolina wakes up from a nap, disoriented, in the middle of the night. Her first thought is wondering what woke her, seeing as there’s no noise in the room except for her white noise app playing thunderstorm sounds. The only light visible is that from the city, through her window—Karolina’s never not slept with city lights in her bedroom, though, so it’s not like that’d be what woke her.

She sighs and rolls over, checking the time on her phone. 3:42. God damn it.

Is it too late to text Alex? He’s up late, sometimes, and it’d be about 12:42 over there. But something makes her hesitate, and instead of pulling up Alex’s name in her inbox, she presses on a different name.

karebear: hey.. are u awake?

She waits with bated breath, biting her lip, anxious. A reply comes in less than a minute later.

julie: whats up girl

Karolina feels some amount of relief, so that must be good.

karebear: so first of all im sorry if i was rude the other day i dont… do one night stands v well tbh

It’s three A.M.. Can she be blamed for her candor at such an early hour?

julie: r you really texting me at 1 am to tell me ur sorry for being rude omg

Karolina flushes, embarrassed, despite Julie not even being near her to see the reaction.

karebear: actually no but i thought i should address that first at least since i haven’t actually talked to u outside of drunk sex and hangover morning after which is. Not the first impression anyone should have of me

It’s too early to be texting essays, but she can’t help it.

julie: lol no worries, im the same way. so what’s got u awake so late

Karolina suddenly doubts the reason she texted Julie in the first place, wondering if it’s weird to text someone she’s had sex with that she misses her ex. She decides it doesn’t matter, anyways—she’s in too deep to back out now, and she doesn’t have the presence of mind to come up with a well-fitting lie.

Out with it, Kar, she thinks to herself, and she can hear it in Nico’s voice.

karebear: so first of all. i left for miami like three hours after u left on wednesday

karebear: and it turns out. my ex lives here now. guess how i found out

Karolina’s in the middle of typing her next message when she gets a response:

julie: OMG NO!!!

karebear: … yeah. and i thought she’d been dating this guy when she left, but it turns out she wasn’t, and never did date him, and…

karebear: i still love her. a lot. and i want. nothing more than to just be w her again but i… can’t stop thinking about how we broke up and i don’t know if i could handle that again if it happened

Karolina leans back into her pillows, exhaling deeply as she presses send. She hadn’t really had a chance to air out those feelings before, but now it’s real—she’s told someone that she still loves Nico. Is it a hard thing to realize? Yes. Is it true? Emphatically.

julie: well… how did u break up?

Karolina takes in a deep breath. She knows she shouldn’t relive this, but she’s been asked, and Karolina’s always been terrible at saying no. Especially when the answer involves Nico. She leans back against her pillows and stares at her phone, chewing her lip. It takes her a second—she types and retypes the message a hundred and one times, but finally it looks kind of right.

karebear: its a long story...

Chapter Text

Nico can’t find her wallet.

It’s not an unusual thing—well, not unusual for anyone but her. Thing is, Nico doesn’t lose things. Ever. She has a place for everything and everything stays in its place (she read a self-help book a few years back about how to clean and stay clean, and she’s followed it like the Bible since then). So her wallet being missing is equal parts frustrating and baffling.

Victor peeks his head out of his room as Nico stomps down the hall for the eight hundredth time in the past five minutes.

“You need anything?” He asks, and Nico shakes her head vigorously. No, she does not need anything, she’s fine, this isn’t upsetting or weird at all. “You sure?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Fine.” Her reply is curt and cool, not wanting to waste any more energy than she has to—she has so precious little of it, these days. She storms past him and into her room, before he can ask her anything else.

Nico turns her room over and goes to check the bathroom when she sees Victor still standing there.

“Need something?” She asks. Victor shakes his head.

“Just wondering when you’re gonna realize this ain’t normal, amiga.” He leans his head to the side. “What’s got you in a funk?”

Nico briefly considers how Victor would look as a head, if she were to just tear it off. Because that’s what she feels like doing.

“Just lost my wallet, is all,” Nico mumbles, not wanting to think about what greater implications that losing her wallet might hold—it’s just a wallet, right? “People lose their wallets all the time.”

Victor rolls his eyes. “Yeah, normal people—not Nico ‘straight from Salem’ Minoru, who has everything spellbound in its place so that she never loses anything.”

“I don’t know what happened—I guess I just forgot to put it away.”

Victor finally seems to get the message, and doesn’t press her further. He lets her tear up half the apartment (carefully putting everything back in its place once she moves it), turning over the couch, the kitchen, the bathroom (twice), and her bedroom again, despite both of them knowing full well that the apartment is clean enough that you couldn’t lose a breadcrumb in it. Nico knows that Victor knows, she’s aware—but she doesn’t want to admit that maybe, maybe her tight control over every aspect over her life isn’t as tight as it seems.

He doesn’t say anything when she finds her wallet on her bedside table, in plain sight. Nico wonders if he knew it was there all along.

Nico’s late to work. She missed the bus, Victor’s asleep, having gone back to bed after Nico’s tizzy from earlier, and it’s definitely too far of a walk that she could reasonably make it within the next hour, not to mention being plumb exhausted when she got there. So, with little other options in front of her, Nico calls her boss with a sigh.

The other line clicks. “Hello?”

“Hey, Sheila, it’s me,” Nico says, biting her lip. “I, uh—I can’t come in today. Sick.”

Sheila is so sweet and forgiving, and she’s never yelled at Nico before, but it doesn’t stop her from anxiously awaiting beratement every time she fails to do something. Nico wonders if that’s something she needs to see a therapist over, then stacks that thought onto the overflowing file cabinet in her brain of ‘things not to touch unless we want to have a breakdown.’ The file cabinet is steadily fuller and fuller all the time.

As usual when it comes to Sheila, it turns out Nico was worried for no reason. “Okay, dear. I hope you feel better soon.”

She lets out a breath of relief. “I’ll try, thanks.”

When she hangs up, she sighs loudly as she sets her phone down on the table, next to a neat stack of bills that need to be filed and a cute succulent Nico bought the day before to replace the rose she threw away. Nico’s chewing her lip, thinking, but not sure what she’s thinking about—just that the gears are turning. Nothing to grind against, she guesses.

She needs to file those bills, and she needs to get her taxes done, and she needs to get paid so that she can stop worrying about groceries and bills. The thoughts feel exhausting to her, and she wants to sleep until everything goes away. But, as Nico knows from experience, nothing will, so she ends up staring at the succulent on the table, eyes unfocused as she just stares, and stares, and stares, because she can’t force herself to move.

Victor finds her sitting in that exact same way, an hour later when he walks through the kitchen, shirtless from his nap. Nico’s too tired to remind him about their shirt policy— ‘shirts are to be worn during all normal wakefulness hours.’

“Didn’t you have to work?” He asks, removing the carton of horchata, and then—to Nico’s disgust and because he really wants to push the rules, apparently—taking a swig straight out of the top. It’s not like Nico drinks it, anyways, but it’s just the principle of drinking things out of the containers.

“Yes,” Nico says, her eyes still unfocused. She doesn’t bother to explain herself, so Victor just wordlessly pads back into his room, carton of horchata still in his hands. Good—she doesn’t have to watch him drink it.

It feels like she’s slipping.

Since she has the rest of the day, Nico ends up sitting on her ass. Victor’s cat, Nico the Third (they don’t talk about Nico the Second) keeps her some company, but the Third isn’t a huge fan of the First, ever since that one time Nico stepped on her toes in the middle of the night. Sometimes, Nico finds cat vomit underneath her bed. They don’t talk about it. Nico’s too scared that if she acknowledges it, her life is gonna turn into a horror movie with one very bloodthirsty cat as the antagonist. So the Third and the First don’t really acknowledge each other, beyond Nico petting her for a minute and getting inevitably scratched. After that, they just kind of exist in the same room without looking at each other.

Nico sits on the couch for a while, but she’s starting to realize that her apartment isn’t very… lived in. It’s clean and minimalist, which means minimal effort, but there’s not really anything to do. Or anything to look at.

Nico gets out her phone. She has no notifications, which is nothing new, but today, it’s just something else dreary and predictable. Nico wonders who she’d even text, besides Victor. It’s not like she has coworkers, or friends, even. Sometimes she exchanges a pleasant word with Victor’s boyfriend, Sam. For the most part, she’s a recluse.

Nico finds herself with an overwhelming urge to text Karolina. A little surprised at the thought, she frowns. Does she even still have Karolina’s number?

Hesitating, Nico opens her inbox and scrolls for what feels like forever, but probably doesn’t take more than three seconds. There she is—still saved as karrie . She pauses, unsure of what her next move is. Is she going to text Karolina?

Victor walks into the room and plops down on the couch next to her, saving Nico the trouble of making a decision. She turns her phone off quickly and stuffs it between the cushions beside her, hoping Victor hadn’t seen what she was doing.

“‘Sup, Neeks?” the Third crawls into Victor’s lap, purring like a motorboat, and Nico squints at her, but Victor is easygoing enough.

“Nothing,” she sighs. “I’m bored as all hell.”

Victor twists his mouth into a sympathetic face, his hands stroking the Third, who’s glaring at the First. Nico doesn’t deign to glare back. “I feel. Nothing to do when you’re not getting shitfaced on a Wednesday night, huh?”

Nico shifts her gaze to Victor, whom she does deign to give a glare. “I don’t drink that much.”

Victor laughs. “I know you don’t—I’d be on your ass if you did. Just—kinda funny, right? That the one time you drink during the week, you bump into—” Victor doesn’t even say her name, seeing how Nico gives him an even worse glare than the one already burnt into his skin. “Her.”

Nico looks away. It really isn’t fair, not at all—it isn’t fair that Karolina came back into her life like a hurricane. She has to wonder if she ever even left, if she ever really got away, or if she’d just been standing in the eye this whole time, safe from the rain but not really, because she’d get soaked again one way or another, no matter where she turned. No matter which way she went, she’d fall back on Karolina again and again, and Nico doesn’t know if it’s a relief to think that maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s some power beyond her control, or if it’s heartbreakingly exhausting to be so lost in their magnetic push and pull.

“Yeah. Funny, right?”

Victor seems to see the thought process that goes through her head, and he squeezes her arm comfortingly.

“Hey—it’s a lot, you know? It’s a lot for anyone, but for you…” He doesn’t bother saying the things that everyone used to say when she was dating Karolina—that they were perfect, that they were the ‘it’ couple, that they were just right and meant to be, high school sweethearts that would stay together until the very, bitter end. He doesn’t say any of that, because it’s hard to forget that kind of thing when she’s the reason those things aren’t true anymore.

“Wanna go do something?” Nico asks, eager to change the subject. Victor checks his watch and gives a dramatic sigh.

“I’m leaving in ten for work. Sorry, babe,” he says, and Nico sticks her tongue out at him.

“Fuck off, Mancha.”

“Love you, too, Minoru.”

Nico rolls over in the middle of the night, having tossed and turned for hours and been unable to find sleep. She buries her face into the pillow next to her, half-conscious and really only seeking unconsciousness, when somehow, the scent of cinnamon reaches her through the bleary early-morning fog in her brain. Freezing, Nico sniffs again. Still cinnamon.

Nico sits up with a jolt, barely noticing the way her body protested, still wanting to stay glued to her mattress. She doesn’t care. The smell of Karolina—warm cinnamon shampoo, and the fainter, but still there smell of vanilla—is too much for her, right now, right when her life is spinning out of control and Nico feels like she’s drowning in three inches of water. So she gets up and strips her bed completely, especially the pillowcases, and—slamming the power button on her white noise machine, because the sound of a thunderstorm right now is just insult to injury—stuffs all of her bedding into the washing machine. She presses ‘start’ before she even really knows what’s happening, before she can collect herself.

Not again , Nico thinks. She can still smell cinnamon in her nose, but she’s not sure if it’s just her imagination, now. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Nico slides down the laundry closet door, face in her hands as she trembles a little. Victor’s at work, so he wouldn’t hear if she cried, but she doesn’t, anyways—out of habit, more than anything. She’s used to stifling the sobs in her throat, until she didn’t have to stifle them anymore because they didn’t come, used to pushing Karolina out of her head until it’s harder now to think of her than not—it’s more habit for Nico to avoid those thought processes altogether than to deal with them, so the fact that she has to choke down tears now means nothing’s really changed at all.

Nico opens her mouth a little, and though the smell of cinnamon is just a memory, now, it feels burned into her—smelling like a warm morning in bed, lying around and snuggling, with nothing else to do for the rest of the day. Smelling like lazy kisses in the late night when neither of them could sleep. Smelling like dates in the mid-afternoon to aquariums or the mall—it never mattered where they went. Smelling like Nico’s old heart that she’s had boxed away for two years now, locking it up tighter and tighter every day—so it’s not fair that all of those walls are falling, now, and Nico can’t do anything about it. All she can do is watch as Karolina barely has to glance at Nico for her to get weak in the knees again. And Nico hates herself for it, since Karolina’s moved on and wants to forget her. But how can Nico forget, now? Now, when all she does is remember her, remember all of her mistakes, remember everything she did wrong, remember how she let Karolina— Karolina, her goddamn sun, the center of her whole universe—slip through her fingers, and now she’s gone, because Nico was an idiot that didn’t know what she’d had.

Every day, she wishes she could go back in time and throttle herself.

Nico sits there, on the laundry closet floor—for how long, she’s not sure, since she only stirs when the wash cycle ends, and that’s when she stands up to put her sheets in the dryer. Washing her bedding in the middle of the night might not have been the best plan, since it’s almost definitely close to four in the morning, now, but it’s not like she’s gonna sleep on the bare mattress. So she starts the dryer and decides to go start a pot of coffee, since Victor should be home in less than an hour, now.

The apartment feels a lot colder at night, a lot more… impersonal. The walls are a cheery cream color, but there’s not really anything to mark the place as Nico’s. It looks like a generic apartment, set up by some interior designer to take photographs and stage it for rent. Like it could be anyone’s home but Nico’s. Nico wonders if it was ever her home, to begin with.

Karolina was home enough for me, the back of her mind says, but Nico shoves the thought down, kicks it into the same file cabinet as everything else, slamming the drawer shut so it’ll stick and be a lot harder to open next time. Not worth breaking down now.

The clock says 4:23, so Nico begins brewing a pot of coffee, taking down one of her favorite mugs from the top shelf and pouring some of Victor’s pumpkin spice cream in the bottom of it. She’ll go to sleep, once her sheets are done, but since she’s awake, she might as well be awake.

The coffee’s bubbling, Nico’s still wearing her fuzzy pajama pants that she doesn’t remember buying (honestly, judging by the heart and skull pattern, they were probably a gift from Gert), and it’s totally dark outside. Nico hates being awake in the mornings, but considering that it’s still pretty dark out, she considers this to still be (very, very, very) late evening. It’s not hard to stay awake, for her—getting up is the problem, most days.

Nico pours her mug of coffee and curls up on the couch—the Third joins her, after a moment, and actually lets Nico pet her. Probably simply because she’s too tired to push Nico’s hand away, but progress is progress, in her opinion. So Nico pets the Third for a little while, until the cat gets fed up with her and walks away, and then Nico’s left alone with her thoughts, too close to 5 in the morning to be comfortable with such a prospect. Because at 5 in the morning is when Nico is crashing, and when she’s crashing is when she can’t control her thoughts as well. Usually, Nico would be asleep by now, so she wouldn’t have to worry about maintaining her well-manicured thoughts, but now—now she’s a shivering, exhausted mess, and she misses Karolina so badly, and all she can do is cry into her coffee mug and look at her phone and wonder how everything got so wrong.

Nico being here alone is wrong.

That’s how Victor finds her, when he gets home at 5:30. Passed out on the couch, tear tracks still run down her cheeks, mug of coffee in her hands long gone cold, and the Third curled up in her lap.

The next day, everything’s fine. Gone are the fractures in Nico’s control, gone is the self doubt and feeling of drowning, gone is everything but her perfectly manicured lifestyle. Nico’s just going through paperwork for Sheila, enjoying the morning breeze through her window and the radio playing in the corner, sipping her cold brewed pumpkin spice latte, loving her life. She doesn’t think too much of it when her phone buzzes—assuming it’s Victor, he’s probably just complaining about something as per usual. After she staples a stack together, Nico gives her phone a cursory glance.

yogert: hey bitch wassup

Nico can’t stop her eyebrows from shooting straight into her hairline. Gert’s texting her? She slides open her phone’s lock and texts out a reply

neeks: ? im at work

Nico’s so distracted that she almost misses the ink that drips down onto her blouse from chewing her pen too hard. Shit.

yogert: :( cant a bitch just talk to another bitch

yogert: bitch/bitch solidarity

yogert: also being employed is capitalist anyways so by not texting me while ur at work ur supporting capitalism

yogert: are u a capitalist nico

Nico giggles a little, and texts out a response. It feels nice to be mindlessly texting while she’s supposed to work—it makes her feel nineteen again.

neeks: not if jesus himself wore a maga hat. whats up

She figures that should be enough to get a laugh out of Gert, so she sets about paperclipping the stack in front of her and musing over the file cabinet for a moment before finding the proper place for it.

yogert: not a whole lot tbh, its been p muted esp w kar being mopey all the time

yogert: thats not new dskjdkjd but yeah i just hadnt heard from u since the zoo trip

Nico frowns—the zoo trip was two days ago, and since then, she’s had about six emotional crisis and a few existential ones. She decides not to tell that to Gert (or react to the casual namedrop of Karolina and her depressed energy—if Nico thinks too hard about that she might combust).

neeks: sorry im just busy lately. works a bitch yk

Nico barely has a moment to glance at the next sheet before Gert responds.

yogert: when did sitting on ur ass at home in the longest spanning depressive episode of ur life mean ‘busy’

Nico frowns at her phone for the second time, unsure of how to respond to that.

neeks: ...what do u want from me

Nico can’t stop herself from wondering what in the hell Gert’s doing, or what they’re doing even talking—Nico hasn’t been a part of their circle for two years, since she and Victor broke off. But then, it’s not like Nico’s just swarmed with friends at the moment.

yogert: nuthn :3

Nico frowns, trying to divide her attention between her actual work and her friend (is Gert her friend?).

neeks: if u didnt need anything can i get back to work then? i have a lot to do sigh

Then it doesn’t take Gert long to respond at all.

yogert: SIGH FINE

yogert: i want to HELP u u idiot, i figured since we were already here to get kar back on her feet we might as well just picket for all our friends mental health

Nico taps out a reply faster than she’s thinking.

neeks: good luck

Since Gert takes a minute to reply, Nico takes the time to find herself a new pen and start inking on her next stack of papers. It takes a good five minutes to work through the next set, and when she finishes, she paperclips them and tucks them away into Sheila’s file cabinet. When Nico sits back down, her phone has lit up with half a dozen messages.

yogert: nico ik uve always been an emo ass bitch but its time to STOP

yogert: we’re gonna get the gang back together and u and victor r invited even tho u left us because i dont like letting my friends be on self destructive paths

yogert: also ik u live in miami like way away from la but its chill i live in portland most of the time anyways (im just here on fall break ksdfjhfdskjfs)

yogert: my point was we dont all have to be in one space

yogert: im gonna make a big gc with everyone + klara cause she’s mollys gf and most of us have met her, u in?

yogert: ik it might be daunting but i think letting people in is a good first step, right? and we care about you

yogert: we may be different now and it’ll be weird to get used to us again but we care, nico, and we want to help u

Nico swears she can hear her breath rattling in her chest. Does she want this? Does she want to seek out her old friendships? Does she want to rekindle that? Nico remembers she used to be happy with them, and really, isn’t that enough?

She types out a quick reply.

neeks: im down

After Nico sends that, Gert doesn’t respond for another fifteen minutes. In the meantime, she works through the next three stacks and has a small conversation with Sheila about taxes (boring) and one client that desperately wanted their living room to have a color scheme of orange and green (gross). Nico almost forgets about her whole conversation with Gert until Sheila leaves, and Nico looks at her phone to see a link from Gert. Nico frowns—she’d been expecting a text conversation, not… something called Discord. So Nico goes through the trouble of making an account, and finally, finally, the link opens, and Nico sees:

YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO JOIN LGBT 2: GERTS REVENGE

5 members online
7 members

Nico hits ‘join server,’ holding her breath and praying for the best.

-> a wild nico has spawned in the server.

karrie: so why are we doing this again? whos even in here anyways

victorias secret is typing…

victorias secret: i think its just the og gang + klara, right?

victorias secret: hey nico wassup

Nico’s eyes widen at Victor so publicly acknowledging her in front of Karolina and everyone else—she’s not even sure half of them still care about her as a person. The several people are typing bubble doesn’t help. Discord is confusing, and everyone’s names are hard to decipher, and there’s a lot of colors and the white of the app is blinding her. She squints, trying to read the messages that are starting to come in.

chase: hey nico

lesbian chad (molly): EYYYY BITCH THE GANGS ALL HERE

gogurt: finally sheesh

So. This is the famed group chat.

nico: hey guys im here

karrie is typing…

karrie is typing…

karrie: hey

Nico swears that one word feels like a punch in her gut.

Nico’s holding her own in the group chat, tremendously, but it hurts how Karolina largely ignores most of her messages or gives her one word responses. And she always takes forever to type, like every letter is being dragged out of her with a knife—and Nico hates that this is because of her. So she ends up ignoring it most of the time—Discord uses WiFi, anyhow, and she doesn’t like being connected to her work’s WiFi. Plus… it’s Karolina.

Karolina, who she hasn’t spoken to properly in years; Karolina, who hates her now and doesn’t want anything to do with her; Karolina, who she still itches to kiss, wants so desperately to hold her and kiss her like she used to—before these two years, before Amy died, before all the rough edges and harshness of their relationship that preceded the fall—to fall asleep in her arms because even just her sense of being gave Nico a sense of safety and security that she hasn’t felt since.

Nico can’t look at Karolina’s name in the chat without all of that rushing back to her, topped off with an overwhelming sense of guilt. She doesn’t get to miss Karolina, not when Karolina’s completely justified in her feelings. So Nico ignores her right back… and she hates it. It leaves her with a big, black hole in her heart that she doesn’t know if it’s always been there or not, but it sure does have Karolina written on it in dark ink—the permanent kind, the kind that you can still read in a hundred and one years because it doesn’t blot, it doesn’t smudge, and it doesn’t wash away—that’s how Karolina had claimed her place in Nico’s heart, and that was how she’d left it. Nico keeps it the same, just in case.

Just in case.

Nico gets home from work and immediately strips down to her underwear, pressing her face into her pillow to stop the tears. She lies like that for a while, resolutely not allowing any thoughts whatsoever to pass through her brain, instead opting for blissful nothingness—she would sleep, but the idea of falling asleep and waking up in the middle of the night doesn’t sound particularly appealing. So she just lies in her bed with nothing but the sound of the air conditioner to try and heal her broken heart. If it will, it’s taking quite a while to do it, considering she’s lived in this apartment for months, now.

Eventually, out of sheer boredom and unwillingness to wallow in her self pity any longer, she totters into Victor’s room, wrapped in her favorite throw blanket that’s patterned with spiderwebs (she did get dressed first, though). She sits backwards on his rolling chair, legs crossed in that classic pretzel shape. She squints at Victor’s screen, but she can’t see it too well since he’s playing on his laptop.

“Widow on Ilios,” Nico sighs, watching Victor play Overwatch, as she finally managed to discern the game. “This is like, the worst map for her.”

“Lies,” Victor says. “The worst Widow map is Nepal.”

Nico gives a conceding nod. “Got me there. Second worst.”

“The queen of Widowmaker, admitting to being wrong? Can I record that?”

“Shut up, Mancha,” Nico says, rolling her eyes. She can barely hear the announcer say ‘defeat’ , and Victor sighs.

“How are you doing?” Victor asks, finally looking up from his screen. He must see something in Nico’s eyes, because his expression softens. “Don’t lie, Neeks.”

Nico rests her cheek on the back of the chair. How’s she doing?

...Terribly. For the first time in two years.

“I feel like my life’s spinning out of control,” she admits. “Everything before this was perfect, you know? I worked, I cleaned, and I had healthy habits. I wasn’t thinking about… her.” She doesn’t even have to say Karolina’s name for Victor to know who she’s talking about, and she knows it. Victor gives her a wry smile. “And now… I’m thinking about her every day. It’s like she dropped back into my life and everything just came rushing back, you know? And I… don’t know anymore. I just feel like I’m slipping.” Slipping, slipping, slipping. Slowly. Inch by inch until soon she’s going to have nothing left at all, and everything she’s built in the past two years is going to be rubble at her feet.

Victor nods, more solemn than usual. “I don’t know, Neeks. Did you ever think that those things were unhealthy, too?”

Nico gives him a blank stare. “What?”

Thing is, her life was perfect. How could she have been unhealthy?

Victor rolls his eyes. “You were so… controlling. Nitpicky. You’d lose your shit over the littlest things because you saw it as something you couldn’t control, and you never used to be like that before we moved, so… I dunno. I just think that maybe you had that coping mechanism, and now that Kar— she’s back, it’s like it’s bringing that all back, and your coping skills aren’t working anymore.”

Nico frowns. Maybe. Maybe…

“I don’t know, Vic,” she sighs.

“That’s a first,” Victor says, and Nico kind of wants to punch him, but not enough to get up, which is usually his goal when saying things like that.

“Nico Minoru, back on her bullshit,” Nico says with a wry smile, humorless. Victor laughs as he clicks to queue into his next game.

“Were you ever off your bullshit, Minoru?”

Nico wants to retort, but she’s pretty sure the answer to that question is a fat ‘no.’ And just a week ago, she didn’t feel the same at all. It’s not fair how fast everything fell apart—and it almost makes Nico think it was never together at all.

“Your energy’s weird,” Victor says to her that night, a mouthful of cream cheese. They’re eating dinner, except it’s a sad millennial dinner of cream cheese and bagels. Nico almost chokes on hers.

“Victor Mancha, saying anything about energies? Who are you?”

Victor snorts, and Nico almost cautions him not to choke. “It’s a Nico word,” he proclaims, and Nico rolls her eyes, but doesn’t interrupt. “And anyways, you’ve been all fucky for the past few days. So if you don’t get de-fucked, we’re going to stage an intervention.”

Nico stops, swirling her mug of long-cold hot cocoa. “‘We?’”

Victor looks mildly uncomfortable. “Me and… Gert and Chase and Molly,” he mumbles. Nico rolls her eyes.

“Gert’s awful meddle-y for someone I haven’t been friends with for two years.”

Victor’s eyes soften. “We’re always gonna be friends with them, Neeks.”

Nico looks away, not wanting to think about that, reminded of her thoughts that she and Karolina were destined to attract forever, like magnets and their pull. She purses her lips, shoving the thoughts down hard.

“Yeah, I know,” she chokes out, because it’s true—there’s something different about the friends she grew up with (Gert, Alex, Chase, Molly, and even Klara and Victor had felt like natural additions to their circle), and the thought of no longer being friends with them, to the point of passing them by on the street and not recognizing them—that made Nico feel lonelier than anything.

Amy had been part of their circle. They’d never been the same after her.

They eat the rest of their food in silence. Nico’s not even sure why they bother to eat together, anymore—especially considering that they usually don’t eat much. Maybe the little social time she has with Victor is all that’s keeping her from breaking completely. Honestly, Nico’s not sure what would’ve become of her if she hadn’t had Victor during the time after her breakup with Karolina, if she’d had to face New York, and then Miami, alone. She doesn’t know who she’d be. Probably a lot more closed to human interaction, honestly—considering that she can go weeks without talking to anyone but Victor, Sheila, and clients on the phone, she really would just be a total hermit without him.

Victor gets up and throws his plate away, since they’d been eating off of paper ones. He gives Nico a meaningful look on his way out of the kitchen, and says, “We care about you, y’know.”

“Yeah,” Nico says, looking down at her food, suddenly not hungry anymore. “I know.”

Victor goes to bed, and it’s late at night, and Nico doesn’t know what to do with herself. It’s not the first night in a row she’s had trouble sleeping, but tonight she’s restless. Possibly because she might start her period soon, possibly because Victor’s right—her energies are all out of whack. So Nico grabs her purse and—only pausing to make a face at the Third, who’s staring judgmentally from the couch—slips out of the apartment, locking the door behind her on her way out.

The night is cool, definitely early fall, and Nico’s glad for it. It’s been hot for too long—she doesn’t know why she moved to Miami, of all places, if she was looking to escape the heat. Maybe it’s because it was the furthest place from Karolina with the most similar weather. Nico doesn’t want to dwell on that thought, though, and it’s easy to forget with the gentle breeze over the hot, steaming sidewalk—did it rain earlier that day? Nico doesn’t remember, but it’s drizzling rain now. Not intensely, but just barely enough to make Nico feel like she’s walking through a light mist. The moon is somewhere in between a half and a sliver, but it’s enough for her. She doesn’t know why she left the apartment, or really, where she’s going, but it’s okay. The air is healing to her, and Nico doesn’t mind wandering aimlessly on the city sidewalks, losing herself in the fog. Maybe the fog will bring someone else back instead of her—maybe the city will swallow her.

Nico doesn’t really put thought into where she walks—just that she does. She doesn’t know for how long; it could be minutes or hours. Probably not hours, considering that her legs don’t buckle underneath her, but it’s long enough that Nico thoughts have mostly stopped swirling in her head, and all of her being is just the steady repetition of one foot in front of the other. By the time Nico regains a sense of self enough to look around, she has no idea where she is, but there’s a Walgreens across the street, so she might as well get some stuff that she needs after she texts Victor to come get her (he’s not working tonight, so Nico doesn’t feel too bad about texting him so late at night). It doesn’t take but another minute to half-jog across the intersection and get into the store, so she pulls out her phone.

neeks: [SENT A LOCATION]

neeks: can u come pick me up i went for a walk but idrk where i am and im way too tired to walk back

neeks: ill get u a coke and some butterfingers i promise just please :(

It takes Victor exactly a minute to reply.

vicdonalds: siigggghhh ok but only bc i love u and i want u to be safe

vicdonalds: ………………………………………………………………and also i want the butterfingers

Nico tucks her phone away with a small smile—at least Victor hadn’t yet abandoned her, although she suspects that the only reason he hasn’t done that yet is because of her consistent bribery with food and drink. She wanders around the store for a minute, disoriented by the harsh, fluorescent lighting and rigid structure—unlike the soft yellows and dark blacks of the nighttime city outside, where her eyes could glaze over pretty much everything and not focus on anything. In here, everything clamors for her attention, and honestly, the lights are giving her a headache.

Nico ends up holding a little handheld basket as she wanders, not particularly choosy about what she ends up putting in it. She’s got a bag of Butterfingers, a Cherry Coke, a bag of bath salts for her energies, some pads, and some Naproxen. Despite knowing her total is already gonna come out to be more than forty dollars, she doesn’t really stop herself from browsing even more, meandering and meandering and meandering, unwilling to check out and go home and end her adventure of the night, just to return to her same, dull life in the morning.

Nico’s beginning to convince herself that she needs to go, before she spends any more money, when she spots her.

Karolina.

Nico freezes. Karolina’s back is turned to her (and what a back it is, but Nico doesn’t really want to be focusing on that), so maybe Nico can sneak past and leave, maybe Nico can get away before the ex love of her life turns around and spots her, standing in a sweater and joggers, at ten at night, in the middle of a Walgreen’s. Nico’s not sure she’s prepared for that emotional interaction, but she still can’t make her feet move—she’s too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

It’s her.

Karolina turns. Nico’s eyes widen—she tries to move, again, tries to backpedal and walk away, escape before Karolina notices her and charges the situation a hundred times worse—but then they make eye contact, and it’s too late. Nico stares for a moment, unsure of what to say.

“Hey,” she croaks, and mentally berates herself. It’s too little, it’s not enough, it needs to be so much more.

“Hello,” Karolina says, a thinly forced smile on her lips. Nico’s always hated those smiles—the kind that she wore when she was stressed, but had to face a crowd. Nico much preferred the real, genuine smiles that were reserved for her close friends, the smiles that revealed how much of a loving person she was. But Nico doesn’t get the privilege of those ones, anymore. “What are you doing here?” Nico raises her eyebrows, but Karolina seems to make a decision before Nico can respond. “Right, you live here. Sorry.”

Nico can’t stop the half-smile that quirks her lips. “I don’t live here, you know. I have an apartment.”

Karolina’s eyebrows shoot up, but it takes her a moment to process Nico’s words. “Oh—oh, that was a joke.” She’s flustered, now, and Nico doesn’t know how to make her feel better, but it’s cute as hell. Even if it hurts.

“I’m actually just shopping, to answer your question.” The small talk feels awful, feels fake and forced and stretched and thin, but Nico doesn’t know how to make it go away.

“Oh,” Karolina says, and that’s all she says, for a moment. “Me, too.”

“Kinda late for vacation stuff,” Nico muses, peering at the bottle clutched in Karolina’s hands. Aloe vera.

“Oh—this is just for my… sunburn,” she says haltingly. Karolina’s eyes are flickering from Nico to the end of the aisle, and it’s obvious that she wants to leave. It hurts to see that, hurts to see that all Karolina wants is to be as far away from Nico as possible, hurts to see the difference between what she has now and what she once had.

Nico nods. “Makes sense.”

“I—ah, I need to go. Chase is waiting on me.” Karolina’s just… unreadable. What happened to that connection that they had, where they didn’t even need to speak, where they could just look at each other and understand each other perfectly? Nico misses that, more than anything right now. Misses her. Karolina moves to step past Nico, and Nico moves aside to let her, despite the feeling of her heart crawling into her mouth, beating faster than she knew possible.

“I—wait, Karrie—” the old nickname falls out of her mouth before she can stop herself, before she realizes what a mistake it will be. Karolina’s shoulders tense, and Nico’s very poor sense of timing allows her to be struck by how toned they are before Karolina turns to look at her. Her blue eyes are a steely, icy color that Nico’s unused to seeing on her, only softened by the fake smile that still traced her lips. But more than that—it’s a pained look, one of a broken heart.

Nico put that look in her eyes.

“What, Nico?” The two words say more than Karolina has ever needed to say, more than Nico has ever wanted to hear. They say everything that’s happened to her in the past two years, they say everything that Nico did to her, they say everything that happened between them—they say all of that, but they don’t say enough to tell Nico how to respond. What could she possibly have to say?

Nico can’t help but feel the words—whatever they might have been—die in her throat. Looking at Karolina— really looking at her, seeing the desolation behind her eyes that don’t shine, anymore, seeing the hard line that her mouth has set into, seeing nothing left of the light on the world that she used to be—she looks like just another light that Nico extinguished with careless words and selfish actions.

Karolina’s watching her, and Nico can’t say anything—she’s paralyzed by fear, paralyzed by guilt, paralyzed by the memories of everything she’s ever done and the weight of those things bearing down on her bones until it suffocates her. She wants to say something, say anything , say ‘I still love you and I want to come back to you,’ say ‘I’m sorry for everything, I was stupid and selfish,’ say ‘ It’s okay, I’m ready to let you go, I want you to move on and be happy with your life because you deserve a million times better than a broken, useless mess like me .’

But Nico doesn’t say any of those things—she doesn’t say anything at all. And Karolina’s hurt expectancy turns into quieter confusion, and she turns to walk away.

“I still love you,” Nico whispers, but she’s not sure if Karolina even hears her. She’s not sure if she even heard it herself. Karolina’s feet echo down the tile floor, and each footstep sounds like another reminder of everything Nico’s ever fucked up.

It’s hard to get that sound out of her head, especially when every echo that brings up another reminder just dredges up a hundred memories that Nico doesn’t want to remember—she knows she should, if she wants to move on, but it’s hard. Hard to acknowledge her past, hard to acknowledge the amount of times she’d been less than what Karolina deserves—except, back then, she didn’t see them as fuck-ups, just what she thought was best. It’s funny that it’s so easy to remember how happy she was, but it’s so hard to remember every little thing she did that pushed them closer to the edge, inch by inch. They hadn’t broken all at once, but slowly, slowly—and the fact that she hadn’t seen it coming before everything was in tatters around her is because nobody sees the teacup falling—only the pieces of it after it hits the ground.

Of course, it wouldn’t have fallen at all, if Nico hadn’t been the one tipping it over to begin with.

Chapter Text

Nico’s never been happier—basically, her life is perfect. Her girlfriend is amazing, sweet, and thoughtful, her parents have been surprisingly lax lately, Amy's doing great keeping up with the family despite moving an hour away for college, and all of her friends are doing well. Gert and Chase just got together, too, which everyone’s been waiting for since forever.

Her first class of the day was cancelled, so Nico got to sleep in a little later, cozying up to Karolina’s warm body and breathing her in. Karolina laughs a little and pushes her away.

“Don’t you have class?”

“Nope. Dr. Malloy’s car won’t start.”

“Poor Dr. Malloy,” Karolina mumbles, grinning as she presses a lazy kiss to Nico’s lips. Nico sighs into it, letting the kiss linger, not wanting to let go.

“Whatever shall I do to pass my newfound time?” Nico murmurs as Karolina finally pulls away. Karolina hums, tracing her hand on Nico’s hip, the other propping her head up on the pillow.

Karolina hums coyly. “Go back to sleep.”

Nico laughs and curls up a little tighter against her warm, very warm girlfriend. Karolina’s so nice to sleep with, honestly—she’s like a radiator that never gets too hot, but is always nice to snuggle up to.

“I can do that,” Nico whispers as she drifts back into sleep, her nose tucked into Karolina’s collarbone.

“I love you,” Karolina says softly, apparently falling asleep as well. Nico’s too far gone to respond.

Everything is perfect.

So really, it’s not a surprise that everything went sour.

The day it starts, Nico’s bored in class and hasn’t been taking notes for at least ten minutes, probably more. She’s texting Karolina, so why would she be taking notes—especially when Chase is sitting next to her, dutifully copying down everything the professor writes on the board? Nico pretends he’s not glaring at her every few minutes.

nico <3: u wanna go get ice cream or something later

Nico hasn’t been keeping up the facade of paying attention for at least a month, now—it’s nearing May, and if her instructor wants her to pay attention, then he shouldn’t have put important things in the classes before finals.

karrie: u know i do <3 where to?

Nico doesn’t hide the smile that splits her face—she loves when Karolina lets her decide where they go, which is ninety nine percent of the time. Karolina’s not much of a decision maker, and Nico’s good at pretending she is, so most of their dates fall on her.

nico <3: uuuuuhhhh maggie moos they have the best ice cream

nico <3: unless u didnt want ice cream we can go get lunch too

The fact that Karolina doesn’t respond means she probably got pinched for having her phone out, so Nico sighs. It’s no fun when she can’t ignore class for someone she actually cares about. The board has a lot more notes on it than the last time she looked up—no wonder Chase is starting to get pissy.

“Did you hear the bit about screenprinting?” Chase asks, leaning over, seemingly having noticed that Nico’s screen is off for the first time in the past five minutes. “It was really cool.”

Nico grunts—Chase knows she hates this class, and he’s being annoying on purpose. Or maybe Nico’s just pouty that Karolina isn’t responding.

“All he does is click through the slides and we just copy the notes,” she grumbles. Chase shakes his head.

“But graduaaaaaatioooonn.”

“Yep. Graduation.” That’s what Nico tells herself, at any rate. She hates this class with a passion, but she can’t even skip, because if she doesn’t get the chapter notes, she’ll fail.

Her phone buzzes with an incoming text. Nico looks at it quickly, expecting a reply from Karolina, finally, but it’s not her. Nor is it anyone else that she would have been happy to see.

Mom: call me as soon as possible

Nico rolls her eyes. Her mom probably just wants to lecture her about something else, again—probably the fact that she’s nineteen and still mooching off her parents, and why isn’t she more like Amy, her perfect older sister? Nico shoves her phone back into her pocket and elects to ignore it for the rest of the class.

Karolina’s trying not to look too bored as her manager lectures her for the hundredth time about having her phone out while she sits in the back sorting shoes. Her manager rants for probably about five minutes, but it feels like an eternity and a half to Karolina, who’s just thinking about how Nico’s probably worrying about her lack of a reply. Finally, blissfully, her manager leaves, so Karolina shoots Nico a quick response.

karrie: hey sorry my manager came by and chewed me out dsdjsfldds im down for ice cream but its whatever u want

Nico doesn’t reply immediately, but that’s okay. Karolina has a lot of shoes to match, and if she doesn’t get through this stack by the time she has to leave, she’ll get yelled at again. Karolina would be scared of getting fired, but honestly, her manager is so sweet that she doubts it. Plus, they’re already shortstaffed, so Karolina’s kind of invincible.

It takes another hour or two to finish up with the shoes, and then, after doing a sweep to make sure her manager doesn’t need anything else, she clocks out and gets in her car, relieved to be off of work after a long day. She checks the time: 1:32. Shit, Nico’s class got out at 1:30.

Karolina opens her texts and frowns when she doesn’t see a reply from Nico to her previous message, but texts her anyways.

karrie: SORRY they kept me late, im omw right now

karrie: were we still on for ice cream?

Karolina hooks up her music and, for the most part, manages to forget about her worries—until she parks in the parking lot of the community college, and Nico still hasn’t replied. Karolina bites her bottom lip and presses the ‘call’ button.

It rings once, twice, three times, four times. Then it goes to voicemail.

Karolina hangs up, now worried as hell. Nico’s not responding to her calls, not responding to her texts, not picking up anything at all. Karolina doesn’t know any of Nico’s classrooms, otherwise she’d march in there herself, but she does know Chase shares an art appreciation class with Nico, so she calls Chase next.

“Hey, what’s up?” Chase asks after the phone rings exactly once. Karolina lets out a breath.

“Hey, did you see Nico after class today? She’s not answering me, and I was supposed to pick her up.”

“Uh, she went with her dad, I think. Something about something happening.”

Karolina drums her hands on the steering wheel. “‘Something happening’ doesn’t help, Chase.”

“Sorry! I don’t know anything, really—she just looked really worried when she left, and her dad picked her up. I didn’t ask.”

Karolina groans. Sometimes, Chase’s respect for her friends’ privacy really gets on her nerves.

“Okay. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Let me know if you find anything out, okay?”

“Okay. Bye.”

It’s all Karolina can do not to pounce on her phone when it lights up with an incoming call almost immediately after she hangs up with Chase—except the call is from her mother. She deflates immediately, but picks it up with a sigh.

“Hey, mom,” she says, trying and failing not to sound gloomier than usual.

“Hey, sweetie, is something wrong? You didn’t come home after work, so I just wanted to check on you.”

“Oh, no, I got off late, and I was going to go out with Nico, but—” Karolina bites her lip, wondering if she should share her concerns just yet.

“But what?”

“But nothing,” Karolina breezes on quickly. “Just have to run some errands and then I’m going out with Nico, okay? Did you need anything while I was out?”

“No,” her mom says warmly. “Just come home safe, is all. Apparently there’s been an accident on the interstate.”

“I’ll come home a different way,” she promises quickly. “See you at home.”

“Bye, sweetie. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

It’s Amy, her mom said, but after that, Nico had stopped listening. Nico doesn’t listen to her dad as he picks her up from class, or her mother berating her for not answering her phone (if she had, she might’ve heard the shakiness of her mother’s voice, or the deafening silence of her father’s)—and after a while, the voices stop, and they drive to the hospital in silence. Nico doesn’t really remember anything beyond the waiting room, and the fact that Amy was in an accident. She doesn’t know how many cars were involved, or if the other person is okay, or anything. She doesn’t even know if Amy's okay. It’s been hours, and they’ve just been waiting, waiting, waiting. Nico’s not sure what they’re waiting for. Is Amy in surgery? Are they trying to revive her? Are they doing tests and scans on her sister’s corpse, finding the trauma point that killed her? Is she even dead?

Nico’s mother is on the phone with the insurance company. Her dad sits next to her, just as silent. Probably wondering the same things she is.

Nico has the vague thought that Karolina doesn’t know what’s going on right now, but she can’t bring herself to get out her phone (no matter how much she wants to crawl into Karolina’s arms and just cry). Karolina will live, for now—Nico’s not sure she could handle having that conversation without knowing everything, anyways.

Karolina’s texted everyone, seeing if Nico is replying to anyone else. She shouldn’t—she should trust Nico, right? Except she’s worried sick, and it’s not even an anxiety thing, really. Maybe her phone screwed up and she can’t text Karolina, specifically, for some reason. Maybe she just accidentally deleted Karolina’s number and she’s too embarrassed to ask for it again.

Except that doesn’t explain why Nico looked shaken leaving class, or why she left with her dad instead of waiting for Karolina. It doesn’t explain why Nico’s not reached out to someone else to explain her disappearance. And it definitely doesn’t explain the feeling deep in Karolina’s stomach that something is deeply, deeply wrong—so Karolina decides she has little other choice than to drive to Nico’s house. She runs a few meaningless errands first, just to have something to tote home since she’d said she was running errands, and after about a half hour of dawdling and praying Nico answers her phone (she doesn’t), Karolina finally gets back in her car one more time and makes her way to Nico’s house.

Nico lives on the other side of town, so it’s about a twenty minute drive. Most days, it’s nice—most of the drive is shaded and gorgeous, so Karolina doesn’t mind cruising with her windows down, music on the radio, heart light from getting to see her girlfriend any minute. Some days, she adds an extra fifteen minutes by taking the scenic route through the hills, since she can see the ocean on each crest. Today, though—today she’s going as fast as she can without driving recklessly, sitting up in her seat, nails digging into the leather wheel. The only sound today is the sound of her heart beating into her throat and the whispering, nagging voice that says something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

The doctor gives Nico and her parents some spiel, but Nico doesn’t wait to hear it—instead, she opens the door to Amy's room, despite the protests of her mother, and stops still at the sight that greets her.

It’s Amy. Cold. Still.

Dead.

Karolina locks her car and slams the door behind her, not caring about being gentle anymore. She takes the porch steps two at a time and barely stops to catch her breath before rapping on the Minoru household door with as much strength as she can muster.

Nico barely remembers anything, after that. The funeral is on Saturday. She doesn’t remembers the funeral, either—it was filled with a lot of people expressing their condolences, and giving her hugs, and a whole lot of talking from people she hasn’t known in years. Amy didn’t even have an open-casket wake—the accident had mangled her too badly. The thought is chilling.

Amy's car was totaled, and it turns out the person who hit her had been a hit-and-run. The police think her murderer was drunk, considering they’d found a wrecked car filled with open alcohol bottles at the scene, but the doors were open, and whoever had done it was long gone. And then Amy's corpse sat in the middle of it all—apparently she’d been clinging to life when the EMTs got there, but died shortly after, in the hospital. She hadn’t been conscious for any of it.

Nico spends the whole funeral seated with Karolina, who doesn’t say anything to her at all, just keeps one arm curled around Nico’s waist. It’s comfort enough. Nico wishes she could steal away with her and cry into her arms, tell her everything she feels, but it’s not the time. Especially not when Nico doesn’t even know what she’d say.

Karolina expected the change to come after that, at least. She knew Nico wouldn’t be the same, because how could she be? She’d lost her sister, her family, her friend. And Karolina can’t offer anything but a shoulder to cry on—that, at least, she can do, and she does so willingly. Karolina stays with Nico as much as she can without missing work, but it’s hard, especially since most of their time is spent just sitting in silence on Nico’s bed, not talking at all. Nico curls up to Karolina’s side, underneath a layer of thick blankets, and Karolina wraps an arm around Nico’s waist, absently stroking her thumb up and down Nico’s arm. They don’t speak. Karolina wishes they would.

Not that she’d push Nico before she’s ready, anyways. But Karolina’s worried. Worried, because Nico just clams up whenever Karolina—gently, gently—presses her about it. Worried, because while she expected Nico to be muted after this, she didn’t expect to be shut out entirely, never exchanging a single word for a whole evening. Worried, because it’s Nico , and Karolina would gladly give life and limb to see her smile, just smile again.

So Karolina eventually stops asking—about anything. She stops asking Nico how her day was, or how she’s feeling, or if she’s eaten, because Nico won’t answer, anyways. And they just keep holding each other into the late hours of the night, until it turns into early morning, and Karolina can watch the sun rise with Nico’s head on her chest. They fall asleep, tangled in each other’s arms, somehow miles apart despite their hands matching and hearts beating in time with the other’s.

Nico wishes Karolina knew what was in her head. She has no one but herself to blame for that, of course, because every time Karolina asks, the words—whatever they are—die. Every time Nico thinks she might be able to let Karolina in, finally, after holding all her tears in for weeks, she opens her mouth to speak the words, and her throat is dry as her heart comes up empty. So she has nothing to say, and they continue their routine of: Karolina gets off of work and comes to her house, usually bringing a pastry of some sort for them to share (neither of them are very hungry in recent days, so most of the time they just break up a danish from Starbucks), and they curl up in Nico’s bed with their arms wrapped so tightly around each other that their breaths mingle and their limbs become a convoluted mess beyond separation of themselves. Nico wishes it helped, but it doesn’t, really. Not when she knows she needs to say something, but the words feel miles away. So she just lies in Karolina’s arms until she falls asleep—only to wake alone, since the hour is late and Karolina went home, since she has to be up early for work.

Nico spends a lot of her time sleeping, too. When she’s not in class, she’s asleep. It just helps, not having to be awake to deal with things. If she sleeps, she doesn’t have to think about how she’s slowly destroying all of her relationships and withdrawing more into herself every day. Plus, sleeping is nice, even if it leaves her groggy and disoriented with very little energy, but hey—there’s a price for any form of escapism.

Nico wishes, wishes more than anything that she could let Karolina in, wishes she could voice herself, wishes she could speak anything at all. But all she can do is watch as Karolina’s disappointment at Nico’s lack of a response turns into muted acceptance, resignation, and everything else that Nico hates that she’s the reason for.

Karolina doesn’t know what’s going on in Nico’s head, and honestly, she’s not sure she wants to know. All she knows is this—Nico’s been ghosting her. Which really must mean that she needs space, right? Karolina thinks so, so she withdraws. She’s good at not asking, now—just showing up, pressing kisses to Nico’s forehead while they hold each other for a few hours, and leaving again.

Karolina’s not prepared for the day where she shows up with two cake pops instead of a danish, and a small coffee to share. It’s a tiny thing, but Nico stands up on her toes to press a kiss to Karolina’s lips, which makes Karolina nearly drop the coffee in surprise. She stumbles a little on her way through the door—it’s been at least two weeks since they’ve done anything more than hold each other. She’s grateful for the small step that they seem to be making in the right direction.

She doesn’t miss the small smile on Nico’s face as her girlfriend pulls away, taking the danish from her hands. Karolina knows she’s beaming from ear to ear, but she doesn’t care—God, she loves Nico Minoru. This is what she’s missed.

(Karolina doesn’t see the way Nico berates herself afterwards, certain she’s made a mistake.)

Nico’s afraid to kiss Karolina too much, too deeply. Too afraid of that vulnerability that she once opened freely to her, now terrified of the idea of allowing herself to be so… raw. She knows Karolina will be gentle, will be soft and sweet as she always is, but Nico doesn’t want that—she doesn’t want the sharp, painful, biting reminders that Karolina’s existence is a hundred times more genuine, a hundred times more bright, a hundred times more than Nico’s. She doesn’t want to receive the love she doesn’t deserve .

So one night, instead of settling in for another unbearable night of holding each other in silence, not saying anything but letting their bodies press closer than their words could bring them, Nico sets out to bring herself something worse, something she does deserve.

When she and Karolina finish their banana bread, and after they hold each other for a few minutes in their typical silence, after Nico stands it for as long as she can, tonight, she turns to Karolina, who looks almost shocked at the change in their routine. Nico prays Karolina doesn’t pull away from her, prays Karolina won’t think less of her for this—and kisses her, kisses her roughly, harshly, pressing their lips together so hard that Nico knows they’ll bruise. The way Karolina melts into her—she’s not made for this aggressive love. It almost hurts Nico more to feel that, but it’s a lot easier to lose herself in Karolina’s lips, in her tongue that slides against Nico’s own, in their ragged breaths. There’s no emotional intimacy in this that Nico has to beware, just desire, fueled by Nico’s escapism mechanism that has her in a chokehold. It’s worse, definitely, because Nico wants that intimacy, wants that sweet, gentle love that only Karolina can give her, wants to be vulnerable and raw—but this is what she deserves, so this is what Nico gives herself.

Karolina doesn’t pull away, so Nico lets her fingers work up her shirt until her hands are sliding against Karolina’s back, and with the way Karolina’s breathing, it doesn’t sound like she’s objecting to this. Nico wonders if they’ll pretend this never happened, in the morning. She wonders if Karolina will look at her differently after tonight. Maybe she can’t think that far ahead, right now, when all she wants is to lose herself in Karolina’s skin.

Karolina’s unsure of how far she wants to go with this new side of Nico. On the one hand, they’ve had sex a hundred and one times, so what’s another? It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy it. Except on the other hand, this time feels… different. Wrong. Nothing like the way they used to love—sweetly, intimately, gently, with soft kisses that never pried, never demanded, never expected. Karolina never presumed anything from Nico, not even when they’d been making out for ten minutes and Karolina’s hands were palming Nico’s breasts as their breathing became labored and passionate—she’d never have assumed anything.

So now, she’s wondering how far Nico will take her, tonight. How far she wants to go with this… vulgarity. It’s nothing like how they used to be, and Karolina doesn’t know if she’ll ever get that sweetness back. Not when Nico’s leaving angry red marks all the way down her body.

But it feels amazing .

Karolina probably wouldn’t have ever ventured down this path if Nico hadn’t taken her here, but now, she’s so high she never wants to come down, and she hopes she never will. If Nico keeps grinding her down into the bedframe like that, if Nico keeps railing her so hard Karolina has to fight not to scream, to not forget her own name, so hard she sees stars, how wrong can it be?

Maybe this was worth whatever damage Nico’s done to their relationship. Maybe it was worth it to sabotage her future self, just to see Karolina trembling and sweaty and utterly unraveled underneath her, chest heaving, eyes glassy like she’s coming down off of the highest high of her life (hell, maybe she is, but Nico thinks it’d be pretentious to say she put that look there). Nico tries to imagine what Karolina must be thinking, now, with her girlfriend who’s been emotionally distant for three weeks coming back like a freight train—but then, Karolina’s still breathing heavily, gasping for breath, and Nico’s hand is still cramping as proof that she definitely just worked Karolina well into tomorrow. They’re going to be sore and exhausted, and then they’ll have to deal with the emotional weight of this—this roughness and scarring where there used to be nothing but gentle love and soft kisses that affirmed and healed—but since when has Nico cared about the future?

During the weeks that follow the first time they have sex like that , it happens again almost every night. Karolina brings wine the next night, and they get pleasantly tipsy before falling into bed. She brings wine again, and then whiskey, and then vodka, and then Irish creme, and then whiskey again. They get drunk and rail each other harder than they would’ve ever dreamed of before, with rough hands and biting teeth and marks left on each others’ skin—bruises, scratches, nothing soft and gentle anymore. Whatever metamorphosis had been triggered in Nico, the tenderness of their love was gone, replaced with this .

At first, Karolina loves it. She loves this—loves forgetting her own name with each thrust of Nico’s fingertips, she loves the feeling of being drunk and with the only person that she cares about in the world, and she especially loves pretending that this is anything like the intimacy they used to have. But the façade doesn’t last, and inevitably, each night spent in a drunken haze of lust turns into a cold morning with Karolina’s face pressed into Nico’s neck, her head pounding and her core aching. Sometimes, she gets up to vomit in Nico’s toilet, and totters back into Nico’s room to see her girlfriend sound asleep. The sight, which used to fill Karolina with comfort and love, now makes her feel more alone than ever.

Something changes, one morning. Nico’s not sure what it is, but she wakes to Karolina watching her from the bathroom door, her arms curled around her body as she just looks at her. Nico can’t place the look in her face, but she looks… disappointed. Disgusted, maybe. With her? With herself? Nico doesn’t know, but she pretends to not have woken up in the first place, just so she doesn’t have to ask. She’s not sure she wants the answer.

Karolina dresses and presses a soft (softer than Nico deserves, Nico deserves the bruises and marks and every other infliction) kiss onto Nico’s forehead.

“I have to get ready for work,” she mumbles against Nico’s skin, and Nico grunts in acknowledgement. She doesn’t open her eyes, too afraid of what she’ll see on Karolina’s face. Too afraid she might see the bruises on Karolina’s collarbone, or the scratches on her back, or every other mark that reminds Nico that she isn’t just hurting herself this way.

Nico’s not sure if the scars they leave on each other will fade, anymore. She’s not sure she’ll be able to get all of herself back at the end of this. She’s not sure Karolina will ever look at her the same way, not sure that she’ll think Nico’s still worth saving.

Maybe it doesn’t matter, anyways. Nico just prays that somehow, Karolina will understand from the way Nico worships her thighs, worships her hips, worships her body from head to toe. Prays that Karolina might get what Nico tries to convey with every bruising kiss—that Nico wants her to be loved, wants to give her that intimacy that she doesn’t know how to be in, anymore. Nico may be afraid to be vulnerable, know how to voice herself properly, know how to be intimate, but she can perform the imitation of it that hurts, the imitation that makes them bleed, the imitation that makes everything worse, except now Nico doesn’t know how to stop. So Nico prays that Karolina will forgive her after every night, every time they impact, every time Nico hurts her because she doesn’t know how else to love, anymore. Somehow, if they crash together again, they’ll be okay.

But their collisions have never done anything but break each other.

Karolina doesn’t know when she started breaking, if it was the first time they started breaking their relationship apart with their fingers too forceful, tongues too harsh—or if it was before that, when she first brought coffee and a pastry to Nico’s, or at the funeral, or at the wake. Maybe it was the day that Nico didn’t respond to her for hours. The day that Amy died.

However it started, she’s here now, feeling cracked and bruised, like every interaction with Nico just… drains her. Like she’s pouring everything she has into a pitcher with a hole in the bottom, and soon, she’ll have nothing left to her name but wet shoes and her love spilled everywhere but where she wants it.

She keeps her mouth closed when Nico curls up against her chest at night, their breaths falling into sync so easily—they still feel right, despite everything. And as Karolina drifts into sleep, her hands twined into Nico’s hair, her lips pressed to Nico’s forehead, her tears suppressed, she thinks maybe, maybe the damage isn’t as bad as she thinks. Maybe they can still come back from this, somehow.

Except Karolina wakes in the morning, cold and naked, head aching, and Nico looks more distant than ever in her arms. She’s already awake.

“Morning,” Karolina whispers hoarsely, hoping against hope that Nico might actually respond. She so rarely does, these days.

Sure enough, Nico’s just staring out the window past Karolina, her eyes a little glassy and unfocused. Karolina doesn’t know how someone she’s holding in her arms can feel so far away.

Maybe it’s her dragging Nico down, maybe she’s too much for Nico. Maybe Nico just wants to be shielded from the suffocating love that Karolina is pouring on her, wants to escape from the downpour of tenderness that she can’t help but give out, because she doesn’t know any other way to love. Karolina’s never been one for the harsh edges and distance, but apparently that’s what Nico needs.

And Karolina can’t be what Nico needs. She knows that, now, after weeks that turned into months of rough bruising and cold, unfeeling fucking that breaks Karolina more each time, knowing that it means nothing to Nico, but to Karolina—it feels like she’s being chipped away at, and one day, the chisel will drive too deep, and she’ll fall apart at the seams.

Nico feels like her head is underwater, most days. When people talk to her, all she can do it stare back numbly, trying to understand what they said. Actually responding takes a momentous effort. Some days, she can’t even summon the energy to decipher the words in the first place. So she takes to communicating through nods and grunts, keeping mostly to herself to avoid awkward one-sided conversations that usually end in the other person being hurt and confused (read: Karolina).

It’s hard to stay awake, too. Hard to breathe, hard to keep from breaking when she’s awake, so sleep is a good escape. She gets home from class (on the days that she goes—a lot of days she doesn’t, because who’s going to make the girl whose sister just died go to class?) and collapses straight into her bed, sometimes not bothering to take her shoes off. She’ll wake a few bleary hours later, body aching from whatever strange position she knocked out in, and she’ll wake up for a little bit. Maybe she’ll mess with her phone, maybe she’ll shower, maybe she’ll nibble on something to eat. Usually by then, Karolina’s over from work, so they’ll go upstairs and fuck until they fall asleep. And that’s just how Nico lives, now.

She can’t remember how she ever had the energy to actually do things. She used to go to class, go on dates with Karolina, get home and still do homework, then spend the evenings with her family. Now, Nico barely has enough energy to eat and shower, and if she’s planning on talking to anyone else for anything, it takes her an hour or so to gather the energy to do it. Maybe it’s not even wholly Amy anymore that has her like this—maybe it’s the weight of the fact that she’s grinding a hundred miles an hour towards the end of her relationship with the love of her life, and she doesn’t know how to stop it.  

God, she wants to, she wants to tell Karolina everything—but the idea of it is… daunting. She’s not even sure why—Nico used to tell Karolina the most stupid things, the littlest of things and the most uncomfortable, slimy, queasy truths that hurt her to wrestle out, but she always did. Because it was Karolina .

So what’s different now?

Karolina doesn’t know if they’re making progress, anymore. Some days it feels like maybe, maybe Nico will open up to her, and maybe they can start to heal—but other days they just slip even further into whatever mess they’ve created.

Karolina knows she needs to give Nico space, needs to give her time, needs to give her room to breathe, but the act of pulling away from her now feels cruel and—selfishly—it hurts. It hurts to be away from Nico when all Karolina wants to do is hold her in her arms and tell her everything will be okay eventually, everything will heal, maybe they won’t go back to normal but they can find a new normal where they can be together, and it’ll feel like a new start after a long, cold, storming night.

Except she doesn’t—she doesn’t say any of that to Nico, just watches, watches as Nico drifts away from her, watches as they keep up their nightly routine of drinking until they’re blackout wasted and then grinding each other into the mattress, waking in the morning with hangovers and not speaking, not looking at each other until evening falls again, and they repeat.

Why does Karolina still bend over backwards to be what Nico needs? Why does she still stay, when she can’t, she can’t give Nico the space she deserves, she can’t be a stoic comforter that gives themselves freely?

Because… it would mean the end of it. It would mean the end of all of it, all their happiness and bliss and that feeling of love, that feeling of soft, gentle tender love that Karolina used to feel in the mornings. The love that blossomed in cold thunderstorms and warm mornings, the love that carried Karolina from a puppy crush to dating the love of her life, knowing, just knowing that Nico was ‘it’ for her. That Nico was Her Person, that they’d grow old together, that they’d never stop loving each other, that not even the heavens themselves could tear them apart—it would mean that the infinite, unconditional love that they had was conditional after all, that always was really only ‘for a little while,’ that despite everything, despite Karolina’s best efforts, despite Karolina begging and pleading and crying, the heavens would win, in the end.

And Karolina has never been good at saying no to Nico, anyways.

One day, Karolina comes by after class after not coming over for nearly a week. It’s been radio silence between the two of them—which isn’t Karolina’s fault. Nico’s been ignoring her texts.

(She doesn’t know why. Responding to them is exhausting, for some reason.)

But Karolina shows up, now. When Nico opens the door, she’s a little overwhelmed by how amazing her girlfriend looks—perfect as always. She’s wearing a cute sundress with little turtles on it, and her hair’s tucked up into a ponytail, and—Nico loves her for this, even more than usual—she’s holding two lemonade slushies, and a bag of cookies.

“Hey,” Nico whispers, feeling self conscious. She hasn’t showered in… Nico doesn’t even remember how long. Her hair’s definitely unbrushed, and she probably smells weird. Karolina doesn’t really look at her any different, which makes Nico feel all warm and gooey.

And that’s the moment that Nico places it.

Karolina’s so vibrant, so radiant, so present. Genuine. Healing. And Nico just… isn’t. She’s not sure when she realized it, but Nico knows that Karolina’s too good for her, so bright and beautiful, like the sun. And Nico’s just the moon, with no light of her own, so all she can do is steal the sun’s light in the hopes that maybe some of that light will become her own, maybe she’ll gather enough brightness to pass it on, maybe she’ll someday be good enough for the sun to even glance at.

Except it never happens, and she just keeps reflecting the light, keeps hoping, keeps praying. Like a fool.

Maybe Karolina’s always been too good for Nico, and it just took a catastrophic trigger to realize it.

And Karolina’s still looking at her expectantly.

“Hey. Can I come in?”

Nico nods, mute, unable to summon anything to say. She steps back to allow Karolina to walk past her.

Nico’s not sure she can take the amount of love that Karolina pours into her, anymore. She’s not sure if she has anything to give back.

Karolina hands her a lemonade awkwardly, so Nico takes it from her outstretched hand, grateful for the distraction.

“Can we sit in the living room? I don’t really feel like sleeping right now,” Karolina says, dodging Nico’s eye contact. As if neither of them knew what ‘sleeping’ really meant. But Nico agrees, nodding and beginning to amble towards the sitting room with her straw pinched in one hand. Karolina follows after carefully taking off her shoes and leaving them by the front door—it’s a habit she carries over from her own house, but Nico’s mom loves her for it, so it’s not like she loses anything by doing so (other than occasionally forgetting shoes, but that’s neither here nor there).

Karolina collapses onto the couch and Nico fits herself next to her—a familiar, habitual thing that strikes an unusual amount of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. When Karolina’s arm wraps around Nico’s waist—again, so habitual it comes as easily as breathing, to them—Nico can’t help but wonder if Karolina knows what she’s doing, if she knows she deserves more, if she knows she could be pouring herself into someone who could pour themselves back into her. When Nico sips on her lemonade, she wonders if Karolina knows—if she knows that Nico is breaking and it’s not Karolina’s fault, it’s not that Karolina’s too much, because she’ll never be too much—it’s just that Nico’s not enough. She’s not enough for Karolina, not enough to hold all her vibrancy and life when all of her own drained out of the cracks in her glass, and soon, Karolina’s will, too. If she stays.

Nico prays Karolina won’t leave her, but she can feel it brewing—the sense of something lurking just beyond what they’ve been pretending for so long. She knows what comes next—the fall. She knows that next is the break, the storm, the damage that’s irreparable this time. Maybe it’s always been irreparable, from the start, but soon it’ll be real, and then Nico will wonder how she let it last this long, how she let them fall so far from each other, how she let the damage cut her so deep. Maybe it’s better to cut it off now, and save both of them whatever remaining pieces they have left—but Nico can’t move her feet, can’t do anything but watch as she collides with Karolina over and over again, each impact breaking a little more of her away.

She can only crash against Karolina so many times before they both shatter.

Karolina wishes she didn’t remember the day the looming storm finally broke. She’s spent every day in the two years since then trying to forget, trying to drown it out, trying to push it away and pretend that it didn’t happen, that she doesn’t remember it. That it didn’t break her heart irreparably.

“I’m moving,” Nico tells her one day as Karolina shows up with coffee. Karolina’s heart stops and her eyes go wide involuntarily.

“What?”

Nico looks up at her, and every time she does, lately, Karolina’s heart breaks a little more. There’s… nothing behind her eyes. No life. Just aching loneliness and a lot of despair, and Karolina hates herself for not having more light to pour into her, hates herself for being powerless to fill them both with love and life and joy, hates herself for just watching Nico drift away from her. And now she’s… leaving?

Is this it?

“I’m moving, Kar,” Nico says, her hoarse voice cracking. She doesn’t look up at Karolina at all. “To New York.”

Karolina feels like the Earth sways underneath her. She can barely echo, “New York?”

Nico nods and sniffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “I’m finishing out my degree there. I just… Vic already goes to Columbia, so we can just move in together…”

Karolina bites her lip. Nico’s leaving her… for Victor . She can’t stop the jealousy, stop the pain, stop the anguish that rips her heart in half at the thought.

“Columbia,” she whispers, trying to search Nico’s gaze, but Nico’s keeping hers carefully trained anywhere but Karolina’s face. “New York.”

“...Yeah.”

“Why?” Karolina’s voice cracks on that one syllable, and she swears it sounds like glass shattering on cold tile. That’s all it takes for the floodgates to open, and Karolina starts crying—she doesn’t mean to, but suddenly the weight of the past few months feels like its dropped down and broken, spilling on both of them, and she can’t stop the words from falling from her mouth. “Why are you leaving me?”

Nico finally looks up at her, and Karolina’s breath catches at the amount of hurt in them. She’s more upset than Karolina’s ever seen her, but underneath that… there’s an element of desperation. Of determination. And Karolina knows, she just knows that Nico’s running from this. Running from Los Angeles, from her —to restart her life with Victor. And maybe she’ll be better, away from the city that broke her, but how is Karolina supposed to live, now, when her reason for breathing is going to be thousands of miles away?

“I… I’m leaving for college, Karrie. And… I think I already left you, before now.” The way Nico’s voice trembles, the way her eyes well up with tears but she doesn’t look away—Karolina’s frozen in her gaze, searching for something, something that will tell her they’ll be okay. They have to be okay, right?
“I think I left you months ago, and... we just didn’t know it.”

Karolina squeezes her eyes shut to stop the tears. She can’t break down, she won’t break down, not now.

“That’s not fair,” Karolina chokes through her suppressed tears. “You’re leaving me, but it’s not even real, because it’s ‘been over?’ What about those months we were together? Doesn’t that mean something?” Karolina’s trying not to sound desperate, but it must not work, because Nico looks away again, and that’s worse, that’s worse because Karolina just wants to hold her, wants to kiss her and laugh with her again, wants to hug her tightly and never let her go, and now she won’t even look at her.

“Of course it did, Kar,” Nico whispers. “Of course it did.”

“Then why— ”

“Because it’s not fair. It’s not fair that we were lying to ourselves that everything was okay, when it wasn’t! We were pretending every day, just hoping it would get better, and it didn’t . Okay? It didn’t get better and it won’t get better, because—” Nico’s close to yelling, tears brimming her eyes, and it’s the loudest she’s been since Amy died, so Karolina doesn’t interrupt when she chokes on her words. Nico sniffles, and Karolina doesn’t ask what she was going to say—the reasons are too many to name. Too few to justify this irreparable rift that sealed both of them on either side of it—and as much as Karolina hates it, Nico’s right. This isn’t the end, because the end was months ago. This is more like aftershocks after an earthquake.

Karolina wishes Nico would finish that sentence, anyways. But she doesn’t ask her to. Nico looks down at her feet, arms wrapped tightly around herself, and Karolina knows that look. The ‘I want to be alone, and I want you to leave’ look. Used to be, Karolina would stay with her and hold her through that face, kiss her silly until they both felt better. Now that Karolina’s its target, she finds being unwanted by Nico is something that breaks her more than anything else.

“Is that it, then?” Karolina finds herself asking. There’s nothing else to say, really. Nico doesn’t even have the voice to respond—she just nods, still not looking up at her. Karolina wishes she could say something, say anything to bring Nico back, say anything to keep Nico here with her and fill her with life, bring her Nico back from before Amy died, do something to fix the wreckage that their storm left in its wake. But there’s nothing else to be said, so Karolina turns on her heel and leaves Nico’s house the way she came, using the last of her bleeding heart, the very very last of the hope that she has to pray, pray Nico will make her turn around, pray that this is just a horrible nightmare, pray that this isn’t real, pray that somehow, miraculously, this can still be saved. They can still be saved.

But there are no prayers answered, no divine intervention, no miraculous event preventing the worst mistake of Karolina’s life. And Karolina can’t fix it anymore, so she opens Nico’s front door, grabbing her shoes off of the floor and shutting the door behind her quietly, quietly enough that anyone who hadn’t watched her leave wouldn’t know the door was opened at all.

She leaves the still-hot coffee on Nico’s table.

Chapter Text

I still love you.

The words echo in Karolina’s mind all day, settled heavily in the back of her head, eating away at her. Every time Karolina manages to forget, distract herself, do something to keep herself sane, the words creep back into her thoughts, reminding her that everything she ever wanted is waiting for her.

And Karolina’s angry.

She’s wanted Nico back for so, so long. Ever since her heart broke in Nico’s front hall—and even before that, ever since the day that Amy died and Nico, her Nico, disappeared forever. She’s ached for Nico, ached for that love they used to share, ached and cried and hurt and begged, begged the heavens to let her back in, begged for something, anything to ease the pain, anything to rewind the clock and let her be happy again.

And then, after two years, Nico’s back with the old promises, the old smiles, the old love. But now—now Karolina’s different. She hurt for years, and letting Nico back into her life just to fuck off as soon as it gets difficult again would be a naive mistake.

Karolina knows better, now.

The word that hangs her up in that sentence, though, is the word ‘still.’ I still love you. The implication there being that Nico never stopped loving Karolina, which is complete and utter horseshit. Karolina never stopped loving Nico, but Nico sure stopped loving Karolina. It was evident in every ignored text, every word not spoken, every time Nico broke Karolina a little more apart with her hands. If Nico had loved her all that time, why had she hurt her? If Nico had loved her, why had she walked away and left Karolina behind to wonder what she’d done wrong?

Love wasn’t supposed to break her apart.  

Karolina eventually decides that sitting around in the cabana by herself isn’t going to do anything but let her stew in regret—not to mention tempt her to get back into alcohol. So she throws on a sweater and totters down the stairs.

Molly’s sitting on the couch, having a conversation with someone that Karolina can only hear very faintly, which means she’s probably on the phone. Great, Karolina can go pester her. She peeks over the staircase railing and sees Molly holding up her phone, apparently FaceTiming. Judging by how content Molly looks, it’s probably Klara. Karolina tiptoes down the stairs and flops herself on Molly’s shoulder.

“Hey Molly,” Karolina says, the sound a little muffled from her nose in Molly’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Molly sighs.

“Karolina! Nice to meet you!” Klara says eagerly, waving. Karolina squints at the screen since she can’t really see through Molly’s thick hair, and spots a cute girl with bangs and a toothy, eager smile. She’s pretty cute, too—no wonder Molly loves her so much.

“Klara, Karolina, Karolina, Klara,” Molly says quickly. Karolina waves.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“Molly’s told me a lot about you.”

Karolina raises her brows. “Oh? Do tell.”

Molly punches Karolina’s arm—not as hard as she could, but hard enough that Karolina winces.

“She says you’re really nice and fun,” Klara says, rolling her eyes at Molly. “She’s called you a ‘lesbian icon,’ too.”

Karolina grins at Molly smugly. “You think I’m an iconic lesbian,” she says in a sing-songy voice. Molly sticks her tongue out at her. Klara laughs.

“When was the last time you even left your room, Kar?” Molly asks. Karolina frowns.

“I dunno. What about it?”

“You’re mopier than usual.”

Karolina pouts. “I am not mopey.”

“Gert and Chase say you’re mopey,” Klara says, frowning. “Is everything okay?”

Karolina sighs. Great, all of her friends talk about her behind her back.

“It will be. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Not at all, Kar. There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want them.”

Karolina nods and picks herself up off of Molly, wandering near the kitchen. She’s eyeing the fridge, debating whether or not she’s actually hungry, when she overhears the tail end of whatever conversation Molly and Klara were having. Molly laughs—a real, genuine, hearty laugh, and it makes Karolina’s heart both lift in affection and sink in sadness. Lift, because she loves Molly, and she’s happy that she has someone that loves her, but sink, because Karolina used to have that, too, and that person left her, and she hasn’t been the same since.

Karolina wants that back—wants that relationship where they tease each other all day, poking all in good fun, kissing and laughing and running her fingers through Nico’s hair, she wants to hold Nico in her arms and kiss her all over her face, tell her stupid jokes until she laughs— God, Karolina would kill to hear Nico laugh again.

But Nico doesn’t want that—she just wants Karolina’s comfort, her body, the support she provided until she left. She wants to use Karolina, play her, and then throw her away when she’s done. Even if Nico has changed, if she does want Karolina back, it doesn’t matter, anyways, because she’ll just buckle when they face their first challenge. It hurts Karolina to think, because she doesn’t want it to be true, but she’s sure it is.

So what does she do about this love, the love that still bleeds from her and insists upon Nico, no matter what Karolina does?

Karolina sighs, knowing she won’t get anywhere by chasing her thoughts in circles all day. It never helped before, and it won’t help now—really, she just needs a lot of time and distractions, and then she’ll be good as new. Or, good as her alcoholic and lonely self had been before this whole trip.

Instinctively, Karolina wants to reach for a bottle of liquor to keep her thoughts at bay, to pour it on her aching heart, but there’s none nearby. So Karolina opens the fridge and makes herself a sandwich with the apple jelly that Gert’s obsessed with and the crunchy peanut butter Molly bought the other day. She seats herself at the kitchen counter, scrolling Twitter with one hand and holding her sandwich with the other, nibbling on it because she knows she should.

She’s beginning to think about getting up and getting something to drink when her phone buzzes in her hand, and a little drop-down notification appears in front of her:

julie: hey kar, how you doing?

Karolina breathes in as deeply as she can manage—the steadying, calm breaths Gert had taught her to regulate her serotonin or something like that. Karolina finds it calming, anyways, even if she doesn’t care to know why.

karrie: im pretty ok :) just kinda getting thru it rn. wbu?

Gert makes fun of her for texting like an old lady, but Karolina doesn’t think she does. Old ladies capitalize all their first letters and ask about kids—Karolina just tries to be polite and legible.

julie: doing pretty great, actually. i went on a date with alex, so that was…. a thing

Karolina bites back a laugh.

karrie: omg. that bad?

julie: no! hes funny and all, i just wasnt really feeling it.

julie: and actually i met someone im really into, so we’ll see where it goes :)

karrie: ooo that sounds intriguing tell me more

julie: well their name is xavin and i actually met them while i was on my date with alex, is that bad?

Karolina’s eyes widen.

karrie: wait wait wait does this xavin happen to know me

karrie: can u like. ask if they know me

julie: uh. yeah i guess??? everything ok?

karrie: sdkfjfds yeah i just. its not a common name and i know a xavin too

julie: OMG THEY ASKED IF U WERE BLONDE AND I SAID YES AND YEAH THEY KNOW U!! thats so cool small world!!!

karrie: kdsfjhsfdk yeah tell them i say hi!

Karolina bangs her head into the counter hard enough to leave a bruise. God, she’d spoken to Xavin once in her life, and it had been while they were tipsy and having a one night stand at her apartment—the first time she’d had sex since Nico. She’d woken up the next morning and, freaking out, kicked them out of her apartment. Looking back, that was rude—but Karolina didn’t really know the etiquette of post-drunken-fucking at that point. After that, she’d just stuck to staying out of her own apartment. Until Julie.

So now Xavin’s gonna think Karolina’s even more of a weirdo freak. Not like it matters, since she’ll never see them again, anyways. It’s been so long since Karolina even thought about them, if she’s being honest.

julie: but yeah anyways we’ve been on a few dates and its going well :)

At least Julie has that going for her. Karolina had felt bad when Julie expressed further interest than just their sex, but Karolina’s not good at emotional attachment anymore. Used to be, she wasn’t good at the emotionless kind of sex, but then she and Nico broke each other, pressed down on their cracks until they bled, and now Karolina can’t let herself be gentle and intimate anymore—she might fall apart for good if she tries.

Karolina can’t imagine being with anyone but Nico, honestly. She can’t imagine giving her heart to anyone else—she can’t imagine pouring out her love, her vulnerability, her raw self for anything but Nico’s eyes in the golden light of the bedroom as the sun sets, as they undress each other with unsteady hands—for the first time in her bed and then every time after that as they made their love like vows to each other.

Which is why it hurts to think that Nico would just let her bleed like that, let her body rot until the snow covered it, let her love grow smaller and smaller until it flickered and died like a burnt out candle.

karrie: thats good! im glad

julie: yeah haha so what abt u? whats going on w ur life?

Karolina stares down at her phone for a moment. Julie’s heard the whole story, of course, but Karolina’s wondering if she can text her yet again how much she misses Nico, how much she just wants this whole nightmare of the past two years to end, how much she wants to crawl into Nico’s arms again. Karolina would drag herself out of Hell just to bring herself to Nico.

karrie: same old same old. just getting thru it rn

julie: you can’t say that, you’re in MIAMI :P

Karolina actually chuckles a little.

karrie: when u live in la, u get kinda sick of the beach kjfdsdfskjs

julie: i guess thats true. i have to get back to work now, but i hope u feel better soon

Me, too, Karolina thinks. Anytime now, Fate. Or whatever’s controlling her life. Anytime.

karrie: bye!

Karolina turns off her phone screen and sets it on the counter facedown. It’s hard not to think about Nico, now—it’s always been hard, but it’s impossible now, when everyone she wants to talk to is so enamored with someone else that it’s hard to forget when she had that kind of relationship, to forget the love she was (is) in, the delicious feeling of knowing that she was loved, she was missed, she was cherished.

Karolina wonders if any of it was real.

Again, she shoves those thoughts down—they’re not productive, and they won’t get her anywhere. So Karolina stands up and totters off to find Gert. Maybe she’ll have something rational to say that will help her.

Except Karolina finds her door already half open after she climbs the stairs, and the lights are off. She peeks her head in and sees Gert curled up in a sitting position on her bed, her head on Chase’s shoulder, snoring loudly. Chase’s head is rested on top of hers, and their hands are clasped together, though Chase doesn’t snore. Great, they’re too busy being cute together for either one of them to be useful. Not that Karolina would wake either of them up, anyways—not only are they far deserving of any sleep that they manage to claim, but Karolina just wouldn’t wake anyone up to deal with her personal problems. It’s not like she can’t wait.

So Karolina shuts Gert’s door quietly behind her, puffing out a breath as she tries to decide what to do next. It’s getting into the evening, which means she probably won’t go out—not that she would, anyways, since this is Miami and she doesn’t really know anyone here.

Wait, she does. Karolina slips her phone out of her pocket and shoots Victor a quick text.

karrie: hey whats up

It takes Victor a few minutes to respond—in the meantime, Karolina wanders back downstairs to find Molly still FaceTiming Klara. It’s nice to see, even if it hurts Karolina’s heart, a little.

victoria justice: hey kar,, nm im jus t chillnig w nvico

victoria justice: ther is ni alvbohol incvoeld at all

Karolina frowns.

karrie: why the hell are u drinking on a tuesday night

Victor’s response is instantaneous this time.

victoria justice: it wa s nicods idea she wa s upset abt soe,mtjng

victoria justice: and iwm az GOOD FRIEDN so i fot drubk to

victoria justice: therre r. regerts.

Karolina can’t stop herself from typing a little faster, lips pursing in concern. Nico’s drinking? She’s upset about something? Is it because of Karolina? Is Nico heading down the same path Karolina fell down two years ago, or is she already just as bad? Is she worse?

Is this Karolina’s fault?

karrie: are u at ur apt? do i need to get u an uber?

Is this how Gert and Chase feel about me? Karolina’s suddenly struck with that thought, and though she shoves it down quickly, it doesn’t stop niggling at her heart. She’s too concerned about Nico right now to worry about what Gert and Chase think, and besides—Victor needs help right now.

victoria justice: we’re fien. actualy nico only had leik. one dirnk she relly just legft me to get blackotu wasted by myself :/

victoria justice: we’re ay the apt. so dw

Karolina heaves a sigh of relief. Nico’s not getting drunk, and they’re safe at home, not driving or getting hurt. Nico can take care of Victor. They’re fine without her.

They’ve always been fine without her, of course, but that’s not something Karolina wants to think about.

karrie: thats good. be careful, ok?

victoria justice: i will. nico s wathcing me and bulylyih m e :(

Karolina squints at her screen.

karrie: bullying? what for?

victoria justice: I MSIS SAM :(((((((( I LVOE HIM AND  IWANT HIM TO VISIT :(((

Karolina smiles to herself. Victor’s lonely, it seems—and poor Nico probably has to deal with clingy, sad Victor all the time. She’s probably infinitely more experienced in dealing with him, at least; Karolina has no idea what to say next.

karrie: aww :( when is he visiting next

This reply takes a little bit longer, and when it does come through, Karolina’s brows raise.

victoria justice: hey sorry this is nico, victor knocked out on the couch immediately so hes gone for the night

Karolina reads the message at least eight times, trying to comprehend it. Then, she tries not to let her hands tremble too badly as she types out a response, quickly, rashly, before she has time to think about what shes asking. But she’s tired, she’s lonely, and she’s sick of seeing how happy everyone is around her every time she turns around.

karrie: oh okay. are you busy then?

Karolina sets her phone down on the counter and puts her head in her hands, staring down at her screen. What is she thinking? What will she do if Nico says yes?

What will she do if Nico says no?

victoria justice: ,no, im not. whats up?

This is, by far, the worst idea Karolina’s ever had—and yes, she’s including getting addicted to alcohol in that list. Because this is worse, this is a hundred times worse than every morning woken up hungover, worse than every morning spent wallowing in her own regret and self-loathing, worse than the infliction of the alcohol itself that she could never stop hurting herself with. Some people cut, some people stopped eating—Karolina drank. And this is worse than all of that, because it’s Nico— her reason behind it all.

But that doesn’t stop her from showing up at Nico’s doorstep in the middle of the night, in a city foreign to her, while thunder rolls in the distance, promising an oncoming storm. Maybe Karolina will be back at the cabana in time, before it blows over her, but by then, she’s not sure she’ll care enough about the rain. Whatever happens next is going to break her, one way or another.

Karolina sucks in a breath, staring at Nico’s apartment door. The fact that she remembered what number it was, or how to get there was honestly a miracle—or maybe it’s just the fact that anything remotely to do with Nico hangs around in her head long after it’s stopped being wanted.

Is this what she wants? Is she going to show up at Nico’s door, heart in her hands, begging Nico to take her back, begging to be allowed into Nico’s heart again, begging to have some part of herself back?

Karolina doesn’t want to beg, and she doesn’t want to grovel at Nico’s feet when she’s still angry—so she’s turning on her heel to leave, having convinced herself that this isn’t worth it, isn’t worth humiliating herself for, when Nico’s voice whispers ‘I still love you,’ in her ear again.

Damn her.

Karolina reaches up with a trembling, uncertain hand, wishing she were anywhere else, wishing she could do anything but let her hand knock on the door with a weight almost as heavy as that in her heart. She’s dreading Nico answering the door—maybe she won’t, and Karolina can pretend she was never here, she can pretend that this never happened and she was never this close to pouring herself out again—but then the door creaks open, and Nico peeks out.

And God, she looks awful.

Her hair is tangled and her eyes are sunken and dark, like she didn’t sleep all night. Her face is a little red, which makes sense, if she had alcohol. It wasn’t enough to inebriate her, though, because her eyes are still sharp and clear, instead of the cloudy, glassy look that they take when she’s had too much.

“Nico,” Karolina whispers. She meant it to be louder, more like a greeting, but her voice cracks with her heart, and it comes out too quiet, too meek. She clears her throat and tries again. “Nico.”

“Kar—Karolina.” Nico smiles weakly, but it doesn’t look like a happy smile. More like a nervous, dreading smile.  Karolina wonders if the old ‘Karrie’ was on its way out of her mouth, and somehow, that manages to hurt even worse than she already hurt, just from seeing Nico look so broken.

Karolina doesn’t want to have this conversation, doesn’t want to push herself through this, doesn’t want to bare her heart again—especially to Nico, who left it bleeding the first time. But the broken heart from two years ago is still beating inside her, still begging for answers, still crying out for anything to ease the pain and, at the very least, Karolina thinks she owes it to herself to finally begin to heal. Even if it means… this.

So Karolina takes in a deep breath and asks, “Can I come in?”

Nico’s eyes widen. She glances into the apartment behind her that Karolina can’t see, frowns, and seems to consider for a long moment. Probably wondering what Karolina wants. Then she looks back at Karolina and sighs. “Yeah. Come on in.”

Karolina’s surprised at how easily Nico gives in, how quickly she’s become… this. A small, quiet version of who she used to be. Then again, she’d been like this long before she left, so maybe she just never healed. The thought dwindles the small amount of hope in Karolina’s chest even further, reminding her that even though it’s been two years, they haven’t really changed at all. For worse or for better? Karolina doesn’t know. All she knows is that whatever happens next, whatever she says when she walks under Nico’s roof, whatever comes of this—it will break her, either way. If she has to be the one to end it all, to say ‘no,’ for the first time to Nico, to be the one to nip this in the bud before it infects them both and drags them down, she’ll fracture. If she lets herself fall back into Nico, it will be worse. Neither outcome includes her heart still beating after the dust settles.

So Karolina follows Nico inside, pretending the sound of Nico closing the door quietly behind her doesn’t make her feel claustrophobic, feel like she can’t breathe, feel like she won’t be able to escape if this starts smoking.

“...What’s going on?” Nico asks. Karolina, for lack of anything to do with herself, shoves her hands in her pockets and looks anywhere, anywhere but Nico. Her eyes land on a aloe plant in the center of Nico’s table.

“Cute plant,” Karolina mumbles. Nico’s eyes soften on her, and Karolina can’t stand to look at her, can’t stand to see how they still bleed for each other, can’t stand to see that maybe Nico really has loved her all these years.

Who gave her the right to?

“You didn’t come here to talk about my plant,” Nico says, her eyes so, so soft, and so impossibly sad. “What’s going on?”

Karolina feels like her breath is caught in her chest—she can’t inhale, she can’t breathe. All she can do is look into Nico’s eyes and see everything she lost, everything she was too much for, every mistake she made. Maybe they have blame to share, after all.

“I need…” Karolina starts, but suddenly she’s lost for words. She doesn’t know what she would’ve said, before, but she knows she has to try. So she clears her throat and starts over. “Why?” Why, what? You can’t just leave it there. “Why did you really leave?”

Nico blinks. She bites her lip, nervous and afraid, and Karolina hates seeing that look on her face. That look that tells her Nico doesn’t feel safe, the look that means Nico would rather be anywhere else than with her. But Karolina wants an answer. If Nico has loved her since the beginning, if Nico has loved her all this time, if Nico never stopped loving her—then why did she leave?

“I…” Nico’s voice dies. Karolina can’t stand the thought of this again—can’t stand reliving yet another conversation from before their breakup.

“No.” Karolina shakes her head, feeling the weight of the word that means so much more than just ‘no,’—it means Karolina saying ‘no’ to Nico for the first time in… a very long time. Possibly ever. “ Talk to me.” Nico’s bottom lip trembles, and tears well in her eyes, which breaks Karolina’s heart even more. She hates being forceful, hates being anything but gentle and tender with Nico, but she needs answers. And she will not be a pliable palm tree in a storm anymore, bending under the slightest pressure. “If you loved me, why did you go? To New York?”

Now Nico looks shocked. Maybe she didn’t think Karolina heard her last night, or maybe she didn’t know she had said anything at all. Maybe Karolina didn’t hear anything, and she just imagined Nico whispering the words. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.

“I always loved you,” Nico whispers now, which confirms, at least, that Karolina didn’t imagine it. And it means Nico’s talking. Karolina fights the urge to interrupt, to scream, to cry and break down, and lets Nico finish. “It was never about me not loving you.”

“So what was it about, then, Nico?” Karolina’s practically shouting, but the tears are pressuring her for release and her frustration is welling up, her throat closing with heat and her heart breaking, breaking, breaking. “If you loved me, we could’ve fixed it. But you never talked to me. You shut me out when I was trying, you basically slammed the door in my face when I loved you, Nico.” Karolina’s shaking now, everything spilling out of her that she’s held in for so long. Nico looks like she wants to interrupt, so Karolina continues, louder. “You didn’t help me keep us together, and then you left. So what was I supposed to think?”

Nico looks down at the floor. Karolina’s full-on crying now, but she won’t tear her eyes from Nico. She refuses. If she does, she concedes, and Karolina will not concede this. She waits for Nico to say something, at least defend herself—but twenty seconds pass, and Nico’s done nothing but shake with tears. Finally, just when Karolina’s frustration starts to boil over and she’s ready to march out with everything she ever cared about broken in her hands, Nico looks up at her.

“I couldn’t talk to you, Karrie. I don’t know why, I just… couldn’t. It was heavy and hard and I wanted to, I wanted to, I wanted to every single day just to try and fix us, just because you deserved better than that, but I couldn’t. Every time I tried, I would just… I don’t even know what I would have said. There wasn’t anything to say. I was depressed because Amy died and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I shut everyone out. And... you didn’t deserve that.”

Karolina feels numb. She doesn’t know what to respond to first—’Karrie,’ Nico admitting, finally, that Karolina deserved better, or the fact that it looks like Nico had to break to spill that out of her. Except Karolina’s still angry—angry that it took this long, angry that Nico had the guts to tell her she still loved her in a goddamn Walgreens in the middle of the night, angry that this is her life, again, after two years of trying to put this behind her.

“Is that it? You just couldn’t?” Karolina spits—she knows it’s not fair, she knows Nico was trying, but really, Nico should know better than that. Nico used to know her better than that. “I was breaking every day, Nico—I’ve been broken for two years. What’s different, now?” Nico starts to say something, but her voice falters. Karolina takes that as a sign to plow forward. “You used to talk to me. You could tell me anything, Nico— anything. I loved you, because you were strong, because you knew when you could tell me what was wrong, because you were you. ” Karolina takes in a deep, shuddering breath, slowing her tears. “And you’re not you anymore. I don’t know who you are, Nico, but you’re not the same person I loved. And unless you can bring her back to me—because, God, Nico, I want her back. I want you back. But I don’t want the Nico that shuts me out and leaves me when she doesn’t know what else to do.” Nico looks angry, too, but more than that—she looks guilty. Karolina wonders if she can see through the thick black makeup running off of her eyes in rivers. “I want the Nico that could talk to me, no matter what.” Karolina makes sure Nico’s looking at her, makes sure Nico’s listening, because saying this will break her heart, and Karolina doesn’t want to have to do it more than once. Once is already too many times. “So… unless you can bring her back to me, bring my Nico back to me,” Karolina laughs a little, wet tears streaking her cheeks and falling onto the floor. “Because you were mine , Nico. I was yours. And if you can’t bring her— my Nico—back to me, I’m done.” Karolina draws in a shaky breath. “And I’m done now. So you can… y’know, say whatever.” Karolina looks at the floor, hands in her pockets, feeling listless and empty now that the weight of those words, the weight of everything she’s wanted to say for years finally out in the air between them.

Nico looks down at the floor, and it’s a long moment before she responds.

“I… can’t.”

Karolina looks up at her—she didn’t expect anything else, but to hear Nico actually admit it, to hear her sound so broken, so helpless… it hurts. And it’s hard not to get swept back into her tide. But Karolina’s heart won’t let her go so easily, and she tries—she tries not to voice her next words, tries to keep them in her heart, but she’s desperate. Desperate and lonely and tired and sick of being alone and having nothing to look forward to and no one to love. So, it’s the very broken, bleeding, bottom of her heart that manages to rasp out: “ Please , Nico—please tell me it can be different.”

Nico looks up, her eyes red and swollen, most of her makeup streaked down her face. She looks… lifeless. Shattered. Like she’s never known this kind of bleeding. The angry part of Karolina, the part of her that holds grudges, the part of her that she hates, is satisfied. The rest of her wants to back down, wants to say she’s sorry, wants to kiss her and say it’s okay, it doesn’t matter, they can be together again. But Karolina knows better, knows better than to back down on what she said. And Nico doesn’t have anything left, least of all what Karolina needs. Karolina waits for her to say something, say anything, anything at all, any fucking thing to keep this from falling apart. But nothing comes, and as Karolina keeps waiting, she realizes that Nico has nothing to say. What can she say when what Karolina’s asking for just isn’t the truth?

“Okay,” Karolina says, her voice trembling from the effort of holding back tears, trembling from exhaustion and heartbreak and just wanting this day to be over. “Then… then it’s over.”

Nico nods, breathing shakily. Karolina wishes the pieces of her heart didn’t fall apart even more as she brushed past Nico, and Nico didn’t even try to stop her. Nico said nothing as Karolina shut the front door behind her.

Karolina waits until her Uber drops her off back at the cabana to break down completely. She held herself together until then, trembling and gasping for air and trying not to cry too obviously in the backseat—but once she got out of the car, it was all tears. She leaves a 5 star review on her driver.

She walks back inside the cabana, ignoring Molly still on the couch and climbing the stairs straight to her room. It’s easy to pretend she’s alone, there—it’s easy to pretend her sobs aren’t loud enough to wake God.

Nico didn’t even try to stop her. It was like she knew that nothing she could say would make a difference, that no words could heal the rift between them that had only grown worse over the past two years.

Except Karolina was begging, begging for Nico to say that she’d changed, that she’d grown and learned from her mistakes, and that she was sorry. Karolina needed her to say that they’d be okay—if Nico couldn’t give that to her, who was she kidding? They’d never be okay again, and at least Karolina knew that, now, instead of pretending for the past two years that they could somehow fix it, bring each other back from the brink. But it’s too late—it’s been too late, ever since Karolina let her walk away. Maybe even before that. Maybe they were broken right from the start.

Chapter Text

Nico doesn’t remember how to breathe. How can she? Was this how Karolina felt when Nico had walked away? No, it must have been worse—it must have been much, much worse, because back then, they’d been in love. Karolina had loved her. She’d loved Karolina. They’d been happy… until they weren’t - and it was Nico’s fault.

And now, Nico has no one to blame but herself for the fact that Karolina is gone. Nico could’ve made her stay, she could’ve, all she’d had to do was promise that this time was going to be different. All Karolina asked for was Nico with no armor, Nico with no reservations. That was it— that was the only thing she’d needed. And Nico just… couldn’t. It would’ve felt like a lie— could she have said that she’d changed?

She wants to say no—that she hasn’t changed at all. But now, knowing that Karolina’s gone from her life (possibly forever), Nico wonders if there isn’t a chance that she has . Surely, all this pain, all this heartbreak (that has, if anything, taught her not to waste her chances) has been a very harsh, nose-in-the-dirt lesson about hanging onto the people she loves. And really, if that message hasn’t gotten across by now, then it really must be too late. And it’s too late anyways—because Karolina’s gone. She walked out of Nico’s life, and Nico can’t blame her. She overstepped—she pushed too far for something she wasn’t ready for, and now she’s facing the consequences. Didn’t she know all along that this would happen, that she’d miss Karolina more than anything in the world, that she’d want nothing else but to hold her and smell her cinnamon shampoo and kiss her and listen to her talk about nothing? It hurts to think how much Nico threw away, because back then, she thought it was the right choice. What else could she have done? They were broken, and there was nothing left of them but pain and heartache, and certainly there was nothing left of the love that they’d once had. But now, even now, Nico wonders if that’s true, or if that’s just something she’s invented to comfort herself—because there’s no way that the old Nico, Karolina’s Nico, would have ever given up on Karolina. And doesn’t Nico owe it to the both of them to try and fix this mess?

But wasn’t Karolina right? That everything— everything— that happened between them was her fault? Every word left unspoken, every effort not made, every inch that they’ve drifted apart—the blame for that rests solely on her shoulders. Not Karolina’s. Not anyone else’s. Hers. Every time Karolina felt like she carried the world on her shoulders (because God knows the weight of Nico during that time was almost comparable), she did it alone. Uncomplaining, uncompromising. Because she was Karolina— gorgeous, amazing, perfect Karolina that was a hundred times better than what Nico could ever deserve.

The door closes, but Nico’s not sure if she hears it. She’s not sure she hears anything after that, after the storm that just broke her.

“ I loved you.”

Karolina had said those words hundreds of times, back then. Every morning, when Nico would blow in Karolina’s face to wake her up and giggle smugly when Karolina wrinkled her nose. Every afternoon, when they met up after class and work, respectively, and they got lunch or ice cream or whatever they felt like eating that day. Every night, when they ate dinner at their parents’ houses and curled up in the sitting room with blankets and snacks and whichever set of parents they were staying with that night, to watch a movie or just talk about their lives. Karolina had said ‘I love you’ more times than Nico can count, but to hear it said like that— said like it was the last gasp of a broken heart—it shattered whatever was left of Nico’s own. Karolina had loved her, she’d loved her—and Nico had been too neck-deep into her own problems to see how Karolina, too, was breaking.

Maybe now that this is over, she’ll finally get together someone worthy of her. Maybe Karolina will forget about Nico entirely, and she can move on and be happy. Except now Nico knows that whatever facsimile of a cobbled-together normalcy that she’d created for herself was an utter lie, and every day it falls further apart around her. Nico’s watched as the wallpapered perfection around her slowly peeled away during the past week—counters that were always spotless now with accumulated clutter, the sink that was always pristine now looked stained and full of dishes and, most of all, Nico’s whole being felt fundamentally altered, like something had changed inside of her, and she’d never be able to pretend she was still the same after this. How can she go back to her regular life when Karolina poured her heart out and it bled all over Nico’s carpet, when Karolina trembled and cried in front of her and Nico didn’t do a thing, when Karolina begged her for anything at all, and Nico just stood there, utterly disgusted with herself for being unable to move? Unable to breathe with Karolina looking at her like that, like Nico had taken all of her light and left her in the darkness, alone and afraid. Nico couldn’t stand that look in her eyes, but like the coward she was, couldn’t bring herself to face it. So she just stood there, watching, and Karolina walked away. And now, Nico doesn’t know what to do. What can she do?

It’s over—isn’t it?

Nico can’t eat. She can’t sleep. She can’t do anything but tear herself apart, refusing to even leave her apartment in case the sunlight burns her skin and bores holes on her—Karolina always reminded Nico of the sun, and Nico has no doubt that it would be hostile towards her now (if it ever tolerated her in the first place). She’s borderline fired from her job, at this point, and she’d honestly be surprised if Shei still expects her to show up. Nico herself doesn’t know if she will or won’t.

Victor, bless him, hasn’t tried to force Nico out of the apartment. He’s busy cleaning and working, trying to prepare for Sam’s visit. Nico forgets when that is—tomorrow? Next week? A month from now? Time doesn’t mean anything to her anymore, and she doesn’t know if it’s hours or years later when Victor comes knocking on her door, asking if she wants to come to the airport with him.

Nico blinks at him. “Airport?” She croaks, and suddenly realizes she has no idea what time it is, what day it is, or when the last time she had water was.

“...Yeah. I’m picking up Sam?”

Nico nods, not really comprehending but doing her best to pretend she is. “Okay.”

“Okay? You wanna come, or not?”

Nico hesitates. No, she really doesn’t want to go—but she can’t remember the last time she’s been outside, and she misses Sam and, most of all, she doesn’t want Victor to get concerned about her. So she sighs loudly. “I’m coming.”

Victor grins. “Great. Leaving in ten.”

“Okay!” Nico calls out after him as he shuts her door behind him, and Nico’s left alone in her bedroom, tucked under her vaguely dirty covers that she hasn’t washed in God-knows-how-long. God, Sam was always worse about checking up on her all the time than Victor. Not that Victor never cared, but… he was kind of like Karolina, in that he always tried to give her space first. Victor was considerate, and Sam was overbearing. It was really nice when all three of them lived together, but now Nico just has a roommate that asks her if she wants Arby’s every now and then. Nico misses having someone who would hold her for hours, misses hands running through her hair, misses being able to just lie in someone’s presence and take comfort from it.

(Of course, ‘someone’ means Karolina.)

Nico picks herself up and out of bed, feeling like she’s made of leaden deadweight. It’s hard—hard to breathe, hard to blink, hard to go on living without Karolina. How is she supposed to go on, knowing she all but drove Karolina away, tore open her heart with her own hands? Nico has no one to blame but herself for where they are today.

After a long moment, Nico finds a simple tee shirt and a pair of overalls that she hasn’t worn in forever, so they must be clean. It’s easier than looking through the piles of dirty clothes on the floor, at least. Nico doesn’t bother looking through the ankle-deep mess that somehow formed itself on there—instead, she grabs a pair of slip-ons from her closet. And that’s when she sees it.

A pastel yellow jacket, with a small rainbow stitched on the breast, hangs in the very back of her closet, and Nico’s not sure how she never saw it before (or at least, she doesn’t remember seeing it). It definitely belonged to Karolina at some point, judging by its color and the fact that it’s infinitesimally larger than the monochromatic grey and black jackets that hang in front of it. Nico reaches out and slips it off the hanger, and it’s soft. It smells clean, too. Fresh. Like a new leaf turned over.

Or just clean laundry.

Nico shrugs it on, ignoring the small amount of warmth it brings to her heart to feel so close to Karolina. It doesn’t smell like Karolina, and it feels a little too heavy to be something that Karolina might have actually worn, but it’s close enough. Nico peeks her head out of  her room to look for Victor.

“Hey, Neeks,” he says, then stops. “Nice jacket.”

Nico shrugs. “Found it in my closet.”

“Looks like something from…” Victor trails off, then clears his throat. Good. Nico doesn’t want to listen to that. “Anyways, I’m leaving, you coming?”

“Yeah,” Nico manages, the word suddenly heavy and uncomfortable in her throat. She doesn’t know why, but when she feels hot tears streaming down her cheeks, the reason becomes clear. Victor’s brows knit together, seemingly out of concern, and Nico’s begging him not to say anything—but he does, because he’s Victor.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, his voice soft and tentative, like he’s handling a wild animal that might bite him. To be fair, Nico has been unfair in the past, but she likes to think she hasn’t been particularly mean. And if she has, he probably deserved it. Now, she nods.

“Fine,” she chokes. Victor’s lips purse.

“You’re not. You’ve been out of it for days now—what’s going on?”

Nico tilts her head back a little bit, trying to stop the tears from ruining her mascara, and trying to stop hands from shaking too badly—then, when that fails, she slips them into her pockets.

“Nothing. Let’s get in the car.”

Victor sighs loudly. Nico knows he’ll press her more once they’re on the road, but then, he won’t be looking at her, and she won’t have to look at him. It’s just Easier to talk, that way.

Victor grabs his keys off the counter and they lock up the apartment behind them, Nico’s hands too shaky to twist the key, so Victor does it. She ignores the look he gives her as they trot down the concrete stairs to the car, drawing her jacket a little tighter as the cold breeze bites at her. It’s not even cold compared to New York, but Nico’s been spoiled by the Florida weather— and she grew up in Los Angeles. Even Victor’s shaking by the time he starts the rumbly engine, kicking the floor once or twice to get the old thing to roar to life. Nico prays to God every time he starts his car, sure each time that this is when it finally decides to kick the bucket. But the Cavalier holds true, and before long, Victor’s trundling them out of the apartment complex and from there, the highway.

And then it comes, because, sure enough, Victor doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone.

“What’s wrong, Neeks? You haven’t left your room in days. You haven’t gone to work. I don’t know if you’ve slept, but you haven’t cleaned or done anything .”

Nico can’t stop herself from snapping back: “You’re just mad ‘cause I haven’t done the dishes, then?”

Victor, to his credit, doesn’t stoop to her level. His hands relax on the wheel, and he just says, “You know that’s not true.”

Nico looks down at the floor. The mat is greasy and covered in trash and crumbs, and she finds herself staring at a discolored stain that might be ice cream. Or some kind of sauce. Either way, it’s gross, and kind of morbidly fascinating in such a way that Nico doesn’t tear her eyes off of it for a moment. She doesn’t respond to Victor for a long while, until, finally, she chokes her voice back into her mouth.

“Karolina came by.”

Victor glances at her—Nico’s heart rate spikes when his eyes leave the road, but he returns to his normal position quickly.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Nico’s throat closes as hot tears drip down her cheeks again, and she brushes them away with her sleeve. Not now. “She, um… basically…” God, why is this so hard? “She loved me.”

It’s a stupid statement, and an obvious one, but Nico doesn’t know how to elaborate. Really, that’s the only thing that’s been on her mind for days, and it’s been eating her insides apart.

“Yeah, she did, Neeks.”

Nico stares at the weird sauce stain on the floor again. Karolina loved her—everyone knew it. So why does it feel like Nico’s hearing it for the first time?

“I know,” she says. “I know.”

“You loved her, too. It’s okay.”

Nico shakes her head. She’s sure tears fling onto Victor, onto the window, everywhere—but she doesn’t care, because what Victor just said isn’t true, it’s wrong, so wrong, and merely thinking about it hurts Nico, makes it hard to breathe.

“No,” she says, but it’s garbled from all the tears. “I love her, Vic. I love her, still.”

Victor’s silent for a long beat, probably digesting what Nico said. Nico’s anxiously waiting for his response—she hasn’t said it aloud, not since she whispered it to Karolina that night, but it’s true, it’s true, it’s true. Nico loves Karolina, she loves her, and she wants nothing but to have Karolina back. It will be different this time, it can be different this time, and Nico wants, desperately, to prove it.

Nico’s surprised by the thought, jolted out of merely waiting for Victor’s response and drawn into her own head. Just a while ago, she was convinced that this time wasn’t different and trying again was hopeless. What changed?

Saying it aloud, she thinks. Saying it gave it weight.

“Yeah, Neeks. I think you do, too.”

Nico half-smiles at Victor, but she’s cut short by her phone ringing loudly out of her front pocket. The sound is jarring—she hasn’t had her phone off of silent since 2013. Nico glances down at it and sees, in large letters: YOGERT

Nico swipes on the answer call button and brings her phone up to her ear.

“Gert?”

‘Hey, Nico,’ Gert says, but she sounds muffled, and a little bit like she’s been crying. ‘What’s up?’

“ You called me ,” Nico points out, huffing. Gert’s like that—her anxiety gets the better of her in small conversations, sometimes.

‘Oh. Right. Anyways… I honestly just wanted to talk to you.’

Nico frowns. Gert never wants to just talk. “What’s going on?”

Gert puffs out a loud, annoyed breath. ‘Nothing’s wrong. Why does something have to be wrong?’

“Gert, it sounds like you’ve been crying.”

Gert audibly sniffs. ‘No, it doesn’t.’

Nico laughs a little at that, and Gert gives a weak chuckle over the phone. ‘I’m okay,’ Gert insists.

“Uh-huh, and that’s why you called me.”

Gert’s silent for a long moment. ‘Fuck off, Minoru.’

Now Nico really laughs. “Love you too, Yorkes.”

‘Speaking of—’ Gert clears her throat and sniffs a little louder. ‘You never did bring me anything from New York. I mean, I was practically named after the city—’

Nico sighs dramatically. “You lived in L.A., Gert. Was I supposed to just mail it to you?”

‘Yes! That’s what normal people do!’

“You know I hate mailing things,” Nico huffs. “I’ve had way too much shit get broken because of some asshole mailman—”

‘He probably doesn’t get paid enough to deal with every Brentwood kid’s fucking Adidas getting torn, but go off,’ Gert begins, and Nico can sense the beginnings of a long rant beginning to brew.

“I’ve never worn Adidas in my life, but go off, ” Nico retorts while Gert takes a moment to breathe. Gert snorts. Nico takes the lightheartedness as a good sign, and presses again. “Seriously, Gert. What’s on your mind?”

Gert sighs, and she’s silent for a minute. Nico’s about to apologize when Gert’s voice comes through the phone, cracked and warbly and quiet.

‘I think I need to break up with Chase.’

Nico’s heart stops beating for a moment. Gert and Chase? Broken up? “What?”

‘I… I don’t know, Nico. He’s just…. It’s been so… we haven’t been great. I thought this vacation would help, but it’s not going great, and we just had another argument and I—I don’t know. I’m tired of fighting all the time and I’m tired of acting like everything’s fine when it’s not.’

Nico’s struck by the similarity in the words from Gert’s sobs on the other end of the phone to the words she said to Karolina two years ago, the day that they broke up. The day Nico wants so badly to forget. The words are so similar that it makes Nico wonder how long Gert has been holding this in, how much she’s broken already.

“Gert…” Nico begins, but she doesn’t know what to say from there. Luckily, Gert doesn’t seem to be done quite yet.

‘I just, I just want him to believe in me, you know? I just want him to think I can actually do this, because if he doesn’t, who am I kidding?’ Gert sniffles loudly, and Nico’s thought process slows to a halt.

“Wait. What?”

Nico can practically hear Gert rolling her eyes. ‘A couple weeks ago, I told Chase I’d be staying at UP longer than I initially planned—my thesis got rejected, and I’m gonna have to spend a while writing a totally new one. From. Scratch. I’m gonna have to retake a lot of classes and—basically I flunked out of the program, okay? And I told Chase that, and he got upset. Like, he hasn’t said anything about being upset, but he’s all moody whenever I come home, and he won’t talk about school to me like, at all.’ Gert’s rambling now, but once the conversation comes back to Chase, her voice starts to quaver. ‘And I just, I just want him to think I can do it. I know what I did wrong, and I think I can do it again, but doing all of that is just. Exhausting. And I don’t want to face that by myself, but I don’t think Chase thinks I can do it.’

Nico lets the words mull in her head for a moment, processing Gert’s hurt and everything said. The longer she thinks about it, the more confused and curious she is. Gert and Chase, power couple number one (they took the crown since Nico and Karolina broke up, but hell, they’d probably always had it), cannot be fighting over something as stupid as school. There has to be more to it.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” she mutters. “Did you hear me?”

Gert hums in acknowledgement. ‘I just need an opinion, Nico. I don’t need you to play detective and butt in.’

“If you needed that, you would’ve asked Molly. I’ll let you know, okay?”

‘Nico, I swear—’

Nico hangs up with a satisfying click. Victor raises his brows as he pulls into the airport drive.

“Text Sam for me, will you? And what was that about?”

Nico opens Sam’s contact in her phone—he’s still saved as might be the rat in the bathroom? She’s halfway through a text to Sam, telling him that they’re pulling up to the airport, when the second half of Victor’s question clicks in her head.

“Gertchase is having trouble in paradise,” Nico says, finishing her text to Sam and pressing send. “Gert’s really upset, though. I’m gonna call Chase and figure out what’s going on.”

“Everything okay?” Victor asks, pulling into the first available space in front of the Delta Airlines gate. Nico shakes her head, but her phone buzzes with a text from Sam.

might be the rat in the bathroom?: k on my way, my suitcase fell off the conveyor and im tryna see if anything broke

Nico taps out a reply:

neeks: maybe hang onto it next time ;P we’re outside

might be the rat in the bathroom?: kk

“Nico?”

“Sorry,” Nico says quickly, having forgotten about Victor entirely. “Sam’s gonna be out in a second. And I don’t know, Gert’s really upset because Chase is being, like, unsupportive or something, which makes no sense to me—and I think there has to be more to it than just that.”

Victor hums in agreement. “Of course. They’re Gert and Chase, for God’s sake.”

Nico nods, glad that they’re on the same page. “Like, obviously Gert wouldn’t be this upset if it wasn’t serious, but Chase being moody is just… weird. Like there’s something else going on than just that.”

Victor drums his hands on the steering wheel. “Maybe it’s just a big misunderstanding.”

“Maybe.” Nico hums noncommittally. “I’ll call once we get back to the apartment.”

“You could call now,” Victor points out. “Since Sam likes to take his sweet ass time.”

“Samuel Alexander, late? Never,” Nico grins at her phone, waiting for Sam to text her back. Victor groans, propping his elbows on the wheel and dropping his chin into his hands. “Everything okay, big guy?”

Victor pouts. “I miss him.”

“We’re at the airport,” Nico points out. “You’ll see him in a minute.”

“I knowwww,” Victor sighs. “It’s just been forever.”

Nico rubs her hand on Victor’s arm. “It’ll be okay. Just a minute longer.” She wants to say more, but her phone buzzes again, distracting her.

might be the rat in the bathroom?: im omw. dont tell vic but i got yall presents ;)

might be the rat in the bathroom?: GOD VICS STILL DRIVING THAT SHITTY ASS CAR IM GONNA BEAT HIS ASS

Nico looks up to see a face she’s missed for more than a year—Victor’s boyfriend, Sam Alexander, waving at them from the sidewalk. Nico nudges Victor’s arm, not bothering to hide the grin splitting her face. She throws open her door just as Victor does the same on his side—Nico hoped to get a hug in before Victor assaulted him, but Victor’s faster. Sam drops his duffel bag as Victor pretty much sprints around the car, cupping Sam’s face with both hands and kissing him fiercely. Nico smiles even harder at the sight—Victor’s been so moody lately, and it’s good to see him with the person he loves again. She ignores the old women giving the three of them dirty looks, just praying that they don’t say anything.

“I missed you,” Victor says quietly, just barely audible to Nico.

“I missed you, too, Vic,” Sam replies, uncharacteristically tender. He looks up and sees Nico watching the two of them, and he smiles even more. “Minoru!”

“Alexander,” Nico teases, clapping Sam on the back. “Glad you made it.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. “Come on, let's get back to your place.”

Victor, hand now tangled with Sam’s, shakes his head. “Let’s eat! I’m starved.”

Sam laughs. “Okay. Where to?”

Victor shoots Nico a sideways glance. “Neeks here has been a fan of Arby’s lately.”

Nico elbows him. “Sam wants local food, whore. Not shit he can get anywhere.”

“Ladies, please,” Sam protests, laughing. “We can figure it out once we get in the car.”

Victor sighs but bends over and picks up Sam’s duffel bag from where he’d dropped it on the ground. Nico’s about to offer to help when her phone rings, and she glances down at it, startled. The only thing that startles her more than her phone ringing more than once in one day is the name on the call: CH(A CHA SLIDE)ASE. She mouths an apology to Victor and Sam, and slides the answer call button, slamming the car door shut behind her as she sits down in the backseat. Victor and Sam are occupied enough with catching each other up, anyways—hopefully they won’t mind if she takes this.

“Hey, Chase?” Nico says when she raises the phone to her ear, but it comes out more like a question. She berates herself silently, but doesn’t get a chance to amend it before she hears Chase’s quiet sniffing on the other end. “What’s wrong?”

Chase clears his throat. ‘Hey, Nico. I… I need your advice.’

Nico’s brows shoot up. “Oh?”

‘Yeah. I wasn’t gonna ask for help with this, ‘cause I thought I was overreacting, but it’s starting to get bad, and I think Gert might have just broken up with me?’ He hiccups. ‘She wasn’t really very clear about it.’

“Typical,” Nico grumbles, but the amount of worried she is just increased a hundredfold. Did Gert do something after Nico told her to hang on? “What’s going on?”

‘I… I don’t know. We were arguing, but I don’t—I don’t even remember what it was about. It was so stupid. And she was so upset, and we were both yelling, and she just… she just kind of deflated all of a sudden, and she asked me if I was done. And I—I didn’t know what to say. What was she asking me? Was she asking if I was done yelling at her, or was she asking if I was done with her ? And she looked so upset, and she was crying, and—Nico, it hurt to see her look like that.’ It’s then that Nico realizes he’s slurring the ends of his words together, and she stops cold.

She interrupts his next sentence with: “Chase, are you drunk?”

Chase goes silent. ‘No.’

“Chase.”

‘Okay, fine. Maybe. I’m not giving any to Karolina, though, so don’t worry.’

Now Nico’s even more confused. “Wh—What?”

Chase hums a little—it sounds like he’s thinking. ‘Wait. Wait you’ve been gone, you don’t know—sorry. I didn’t say anything.’  

“Chase. What don’t I know?”

‘I changed my name, sorry.’

“What’s your new name then?” Nico asks, exasperated, but knowing if she doesn’t play along, she’ll never get answers. Chase hums.

‘Joe.’

“Joe?” Victor shoots her an odd look from the front seat. Nico waves him off.

‘Yeah.’

“Okay, Joe—What’s this about Karolina?”

Chase hesitates. ‘She’s been in a bad way, Nico. Ever—’ He hiccups again. ‘Ever since you left. She drinks all the time. She doesn’t talk to us. She has one night stands, like, all the time—and she won’t talk about them. She barely leaves her apartment except to go to the bar. Ger—’ Chase sniffs loudly. ‘Molly and Alex check on her sometimes, but she won’t talk to us. She went through ten therapists in a month, and then she just… stopped. She hasn’t seen anyone for it in over a year, now—we used to drag her to AA meetings, but she wouldn’t go on her own. And then Gert—Gert left for UP, and Karolina stopped talking to the rest of us. Every time Gert comes back, we try and help her again, because she listens to Gert, but it doesn’t last for long, and then Gert always has to leave again. And she’s leaving again as soon as we get back from Miami—’

Chase breaks down into sobs, now, but Nico’s head feels like it’s underwater. It’s a horrible, cold, dirty feeling that sinks into her bones and chokes her. Guilt. Shame. Disgust. Regret. Everything she’s always felt since leaving Karolina, boiling up to the surface and filling up all the space inside of her, pressing hot tears out of her and suffocating her. She barely hears when Chase gets his words together enough to continue.

‘Gert’s leaving for UP again. That’s what we were fighting about.’

Nico struggles to focus on Chase— Chase’s problems right now. She has to keep Gert and Chase together, she has to.

If they can get through this, maybe Nico just might have a shot at fixing her own mess.

“Chase—Chase, Gert called me earlier.”

‘W—what did she say?’

“She said she’s upset because she told you she flunked out of the doctoral program at UP, and she said you’ve been moody ever since she told you, so she thinks you don’t believe she can do it.”

‘Nico, I—that’s… that’s insane. I’ve been so supportive and encouraging for her to go back to school, and I’m sad that she flunked, but I know she can do it this time. She’s the smartest person I know, Nico—if anyone can do it, it’s her.’

“Gert doesn’t know you think that,” Nico sighs, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“I—I need to talk to her. Bye.’

“Chase, wait—that might not be a good idea right now,” Nico says quickly. “She might get even more upset because you’re drunk.”

‘But I miss her—’ Nico can almost hear his pout through the phone. ‘And I want her to know how much I love herrrrr.’

“Later. Sleep, you can make up when you feel better.”

Chase hums. ‘Okay. Goodnight, Nico.’

Nico suppresses the laugh that threatens to bubble out of her. “Goodnight. I have to make a phone call.”

After she hangs up the phone, Sam twists around his seat to look at her.

“You playing matchmaker now, Minoru?”

Nico would’ve laughed, but she’s too worried.

“I wish, Alexander. This sucks a lot more.”

Nico dials Karolina’s number on her phone, pretending she doesn’t still have it memorized from the days of old.

Karolina, predictably, does not pick up her phone. Nico wants to leave a long message, breaking down and apologizing for everything (which would probably take a few days, at least), but since she’s still in the car with Victor and Sam, she just leaves it at a quick “Hey, it’s—it’s Nico. God, this is stupid—I didn’t mean to say that—call me back when you get a chance. I’m sorry.”

She hangs up quickly, not looking at Victor or Sam, and spends the rest of the car ride staring out the window, trying to quell the tiny spark of hope that refuses to die, no matter how many times Nico’s stomped on it over the years.

Maybe Nico can still save this.

It’s days later when Nico hears back from Gert and Chase—to be honest, she kind of forgot about them. It’s been a tiny slice of heaven, hanging out with Sam and Victor again. She forgot how much she missed Sam until he woke her up the day after they picked him up from the airport, holding up his phone—more specifically, a picture of their fridge he’d just taken—and demanded to know where all their groceries were. Nico had grumbled and rolled back over, and when she’d woken up for real, Sam and Victor had gone ‘grocery shopping’ (read: purchased three gallons of milk, a single half dozen of eggs, and two bags of powdered doughnuts to celebrate their responsibility).

When Nico finally hears back from Gert and Chase, then, it’s a little bit jarring—before she remembers everything that had occured. All of those thoughts are striking her at once as she stares at her phone on the dining room table, with the caller name YOGERT displayed at the top of the screen. Nico sighs, deciding she shouldn’t avoid this (even though she wants to, she wants to snuggle up in her security bubble of an apartment and forget anything happening on the outside), and swipes answer call.

“Hey, Gert.”

‘Nico! Hey, girl. Glad you picked up.’

“Gert?” Nico frowns. She sounds unusually cheery, especially for the fact that it’s seven in the morning.

‘None other,’ Gert proclaims proudly. ‘Anyways… I just remembered I forgot to thank you.’

“Thank me?” Nico echoes. Her mind isn’t wholly awake yet, so nothing Gert is saying really processes well.

‘Yeah. You kinda saved my ass, remember?’

Nico blinks, staring down at her tea. “Your… what?”

‘Nico. Do I need to call back later?’

“No. No! Sorry, I’m just really out of it. What did I do for you?”

‘You talked me out of breaking up with Chase? God, just the thought that I was going to is—’ Nico can pretty much hear Gert shudder. ‘I’m so glad I called you first. That would’ve been probably the worst mistake of my life.’ The phone crackles, and Nico can hear someone else talking, but it’s muffled. Gert shouts, ‘Yes, baby! I’ll be right there! I love you, too!’

Nico smiles, listening. “I’m glad that worked out for you, then.”

‘Yeah! It turned out Chase was just upset ‘cause he misses me, it wasn’t about whether or not I could do it at all. And so I told him I’d come home for more weekends and stuff, and I’ll video call when I can and all that. It’s gonna be okay, I think.’

“That’s really good, Gert. I’m glad.” Nico’s heartfelt sincerity is interrupted by Sam walking into the kitchen—he doesn’t say anything, just gets down a mug out of the cabinet and pours himself some coffee. Nico’s not sure how long the coffee’s been sitting there, but she doesn’t say anything—just sips her tea and keeps talking to Gert. “It always feels nice to work past your problems.”

‘Yeah, definitely. I’m so glad that’s over with—I don’t know what I would’ve done with myself if I broke up with him, honestly. We’ve just been together for so long, I probably don’t even know how to function by myself anymore.’

“And why would you want to?” Nico murmurs, her thoughts far, far away from Gert and Chase, and very, very near to a certain blonde that stole her heart three years ago.

‘Exactly! Codependence is healthy, kids.’ Gert laughs. ‘Seriously, though—thanks again for everything! I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but I’ll call, okay? Don’t be a stranger, Nico.’

“I won’t. I’m glad I could help.”

‘Me, too. Bye, Nico!’

“Bye, Gert!”

Nico hangs up the phone, more lonely and upset than ever—but more importantly, more determined. And definitely a lot more desperate. Gert and Chase pulled themselves back from the brink—Hell, Nico had helped them. Gert and Chase, the ‘it’ couple, the power couple of the century, had been on the brink of collapse. And Nico was already on the other side of breaking, so why does she think that she can still fix her mistakes?

Because it’s Karolina. And Karolina is worth a hundred heartbreaks, a thousand miles, and a million mistakes. Karolina is worth the risk, worth the effort, worth every bruise and cut and bump in the road. Karolina is the sun to Nico’s whole world, and without her, she’s been withering away—so what’s left for Nico to lose?

“Victor!” Nico shouts, rinsing off her mug and dropping it in the sink. She whips out her phone and shoots Chase a quick text—Victor appears out of his room, disheveled from sleep and groggy.

“What, Neeks?”

“I need you to drive me somewhere.” When she sees Victor’s questioning expression, she adds, her voice cracking with desperation: “Now.”

Victor nods and ducks back into his room. Then, Sam’s head appears in the doorway.

“Road trip?” He asks. Nico shakes her head.

“An old mistake of mine needs to be fixed.”

Nico’s heart sinks into the floor when Victor trundles into the driveway of an old beach cabana and all the lights are off. There’s no car in the driveway. It looks… abandoned.

Victor turns down the radio. “This is the place?”

Nico’s hands tremble as she double checks the address Chase sent her.

“549 Shelley? This is the place.”

“So where are they?” Sam asks, leaning up from the backseat.

“Not here.” Victor’s voice is flat, like he’s annoyed they drove all this way in the first place.

Nico feels like her heart is going to burst. Trembling, she scrolls through her contacts until she finds Gert, and presses call. It rings twice before she picks up.

‘Hey, Nico. You need something?’

“Yeah, where are you guys?”

‘W—where are we? Nico, I—oh. Oh. We’re back in L.A.”

Nico’s stomach feels like a cold, heavy stone sank into it. “L.A.?” She manages weakly.

‘Yeah. We flew back yesterday—I thought you knew.’

Nico ignores her bottom lip trembling, until she can’t, and then she chokes back a sob.

‘Oh. Oh, Nico. I’m so sorry.’

Nico nods. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

‘Nico, no, it’s not. I’ll—’

“Thanks for your help.” Nico ends the call and buries her face in her hands, ignoring the pitying looks Sam and Victor must be giving her. She shoves the tears down, shoves down the lump in her throat, shoves down everything that isn’t breathing steadily and keeping herself together. Those things are the last pieces of Karolina in her heart, and Nico can’t even be near her anymore. She’ll never get her chance again, and now she’s going to die alone because she wasn’t enough for Karolina when Karolina needed it. She’s going to die without ever having made amends for her mistakes, without ever having put the pieces of herself back together, without ever offering a hand out to Karolina to say yes.

Nico’s surprised when Victor throws the car into reverse, and they take off towards Highway 75.

“Wh—what?” Nico chokes. Oh, she had been crying, despite all of her best efforts. Victor’s hands just clench on the wheel a little tighter, his jaw set in determination.

“We’re getting your fucking girl, Minoru.”

Nico looks between Victor and Sam, confused and trying to understand. Is… is Victor going to drive them all the way to Los Angeles?

“Vic?” Sam asks, his voice tentative. Victor turns down the radio even more.

“We’re driving to L.A., and we’re gonna fix this. Okay?”

Nico pats her pockets, looking for her phone. “Do you have any idea how long of a drive that is?”

Victor shrugs. “Like, twenty hours? I don’t know. It’s worth it, though, right?”

Nico shakes her head. “Victor, no—I can’t ask you to do this.”

“Then don’t,” Victor says, pressing the gas a little harder. Nico opens Google Maps, too scared to even look at how long of a trip this is going to be, but morbid curiosity driving her forwards anyways.

Sam snorts. “Your shitty car won’t make it, dude.”

“Watch it, ass. This car is less replaceable than you are.”

“I’m hurt, Mancha.” Sam places a hand on his heart dramatically. “I can’t believe you’d pick your car over me.”

“Yes, you can,” Nico grumbles, not listening anymore. “Vic—Vic, this is a forty hour drive.”

Victor’s lips purse. “Guess we’re gonna be driving in shifts, then.”

“You know Nico can’t drive,” Sam points out.

“Are you up for it, then? We can go back to the apartment right now and be done with this. I just want to help you, Nico.” Victor checks over his shoulder and merges into the right lane, and Nico can see that he’s aiming for the exit onto Highway 75.

Does she want this? Nico could just tell him to turn around right now, and go back. She can go back to what she had before—a job, hobbies, friends, coworkers, a boss that she likes, a roommate that she tolerates. Friends she doesn’t speak to anymore. Sleeping at eight in the evening because she doesn’t have anything else to do. Every spare moment spent cleaning. She can go back to that, go back to the mediocrity of her life before—because really, it wasn’t bad. It’s not that she was unhappy, really. She was alive, she had a roof over her head and food to eat. She was breathing.

But she wasn’t living.

“Take it,” Nico says when Victor approaches the exit.

Victor and Sam both look at her for a moment.

“You sure? This is your choice, Minoru.”

Nico nods, determination settling in her bones, grasping her in a much different way than fear ever did. Fear and guilt ate at her, tore her skin away, hollowed her bones and made her small, made her afraid. This—this is like liquid gold, and she just drank the whole bottle. It feels hot, fiery and reaffirming.

“Take it,” Nico repeats, and Victor merges right, onto Highway 75.

Nico woke up to an empty mattress, her back cold from the absence of Karolina. The depression where Karolina had been asleep was still warm, which means she had to have just woken up. Nico rolled over and squinted at her clock, already knowing it was going to be some unearthly early hour.

4:56. Ugh.

Nico wrapped the blanket around herself tightly and sat up, squinting around her dark bedroom. It didn’t look like there was much different, which meant Karolina probably slipped out to some other part of the house. Nico hoped it was just the bathroom, or maybe she was making breakfast. She was the type to go jogging at 5 am, but usually she had the decency to not do that when she spent the night with Nico. Maybe she got infected by the jogging fever or something, and she just had to. Nico didn’t know, and she was too groggy and tired to think about it any longer.

“Kar?” She called out, but the house responded with silence. Great. Nico pushed herself up and off the bed and tottered down the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw a lamp in the kitchen on, and her girlfriend in front of the mug cabinet. Judging by the smell of eggs and coffee, Karolina was making breakfast. Maybe Nico hated her a little less for it.

“Hi?” Nico said uncertainly, creeping up behind Karolina and wrapping her arms around her waist. Karolina startled a little, but relaxed after she looked down and saw that it was just Nico—a grumpy, sleepy Nico, but Nico nonetheless.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Karolina’s hand cupped Nico’s own, the other still stirring her mug of coffee. “You’re awake early.”

“Bitch—” Nico started, but Karolina giggled, and Nico sighed. “No human being should be awake before the sun.”

“Good thing I’m just an alien, then.” Karolina set down the stirring stick and pressed a kiss to Nico’s forehead. Nico, despite herself, smiled at the contact—she never got tired of Karolina, no matter how annoyed she was at the early hour.

“Yeah, you are. What are you doing up?”

Karolina shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Got tired of lying around, so I got up and made food.”

Nico hesitated. “Is that it?”

Karolina dodged eye contact. “I couldn’t sleep,” she repeated. “I made tea how you like it?”

Nico decided to drop it for right then, but she’d bring it up later. She sipped out of the mug Karolina handed her, and God, it was exactly how she likes it. A little sweeter, but it was even better that way.

“Mmm,” Nico hummed, not bothering to stop the small, contented smile from spreading across her lips. “Very nice.”

Karolina kissed her forehead again. “Good. Do you want eggs?”

“Sure,” Nico said, yawning. “Are we eating right now?”

“I was gonna sit on the porch and watch the sun come up…” Karolina’s voice was a little hesitant, like she wasn’t sure Nico would agree. Nico set down her mug, wrapping her arms back around Karolina’s waist and bringing them close together. She wouldn’t admit this later, but she stood on her toes to press a warm, lingering kiss to Karolina’s lips. Karolina sighed into it, melting into their contact, and Nico felt exactly the same. No matter what time of the day it was, no matter how she felt, no matter what she was doing—kissing Karolina always set her at ease, made her feel like she was ready for anything. Karolina’s hands curled around Nico’s back, and Nico squeezed her arms a little tighter. This was right.

“That sounds great, Karrie,” Nico murmured after they broke apart. Karolina grinned against Nico’s lips, and she stepped back. Nico already missed her warmness, but they’d be snuggled up again before long, hopefully on the porch swing that’s so deep, Nico could bring her knees up and fall asleep again on Karolina’s shoulder.

Karolina scooped some eggs for both of them to share into a bowl, along with buttered toast and hash browns that Nico hadn’t even seen until Karolina uncovered the pan. God, everything smelled so good. Karolina picked up her own mug, and Nico followed her out to the porch. The air was chilly but not breezy, so Nico could comfortably snuggle up to Karolina’s side. For a while they just sat, feeling the morning air and eating the food Karolina prepared.

“Maybe this isn’t so bad,” Nico grumbled, scraping the bottom of the bowl for the last of the eggs. Karolina laughed.

“I never understood why you hate mornings so much.”

“And I don’t get why you love them,” Nico huffed, shoving the last forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“Let me finish, okay?” Karolina pouted. “I said I never understood why you hated them, but having to get up out of bed every morning without you? That made me realize why.”

Nico flushed bright red, sure that she must have been glowing with delight. Karolina looked down at her, her eyes so soft and affectionate that Nico might combust.

“I think I love you,” Nico whispered, the weight of the words apparent as soon as they left her mouth. They’d never said that before. She’d never said that before. “I—I’m sorry, I—”

Karolina’s lips quirked in a fond smile. “You think so, huh?”

Nico flushed even more. “Not if you’re gonna be an ass about it.”

Karolina hummed. “I made you breakfast and you looooveee me,” she teased. “I’m allowed to be an ass about it.”

“Hmph.” Nico snuggled into Karolina’s shoulder, no longer cold since the burning heat of her embarrassment banished the last vestiges of chill from her body.

“I love you, too.”

Nico raised her eyes to Karolina’s. She loved her?

“Oh?”

Karolina rubbed her hand up and down Nico’s arm. “I do. That’s what I was thinking about when I got out of bed, and I didn’t know how to tell you. So… breakfast.”

Nico grinned, her cheek then resting on Karolina’s shoulder. “You loser.”

Karolina laughed a little. “Dork.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Nico wakes to the Cavalier shuddering underneath her, groaning like some ancient beast angered that its slumber has been interrupted. Nico shoots upward, smacks her head on the ceiling, and then, finally, comes to her senses.

They’ve been driving for over a day, now. They should be getting close, but really, Nico has no sense of time anymore. She has no idea what’s going to happen when this road trip ends, because at the end of it is Karolina, at the end of it is when she’ll have to swallow every hard truth she’s been avoiding for two years—at the end of it is when she’ll lay her heart bare for Karolina to judge.

Except they might not make it that far. The Cavalier sputters, and then, after a heroic lurch forward, quits. Nico’s awake now, awake enough to realize that Victor’s sitting in the driver’s seat and Sam is still dead asleep in the passenger’s, Victor twisting the key and groaning every time the engine clicks but doesn’t start.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Victor moans. The engine still doesn’t turn over.

“What happened?” Nico asks, still groggy but panic is choking her now.

“She just quit on me.”

“Maybe this wouldn’t—”

“Shut up, Alexander!” Nico’s never heard Victor snap more angrily, especially not at Sam. Her eyes widen involuntarily, and Sam looks a little shocked. Victor seems to realize what he said, because the corners of his mouth soften. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“We’re stressed,” Sam says flatly. “Not a big deal.”

Except it might be a big deal. But they can’t worry about that right now.

Victor finally stops turning the key and kicks the car. “Damn it!”

“What time is it?” Nico asks, squinting at the clock. 2:38 in the morning. Shit.

“Too early to call a tow truck,” Sam grumbles. “And we can’t even pop the hood to see what might have blown.”

“It was all of it. Okay? You were right, and my shitty car broke down and left us stranded. Are you happy now?” Victor opens his door and slams it shut behind him before Sam can respond, and leave Sam and Nico alone in the car.

“I never… I never wanted him to feel like I didn’t trust him,” Sam says quietly, and then, before Nico can respond, he gets out of the car, too.

Nico groans in frustration. Great, they’re stuck, and Victor and Sam are fighting, and it’s too early to call anyone, and now she’s never going to see Karolina again because nothing in her life can go right, ever.

Nico sniffs against the back of the driver’s seat. It’s hard not to break down now, when everything else is breaking down around her. Maybe she’s already breaking down? Nico shakes her head—she can’t be, she’d know it. She’d be shutting down and pushing every emotion to the side, withdrawing into herself and cutting her losses, and—most importantly—giving up.

But Nico doesn’t feel like giving up. She doesn’t feel like pushing all her feelings down, and, most of all, she doesn’t feel like turning around and walking away when she’s so close, she’s so close.

But it’s so far.

Nico shoves open the backseat door and steps out of the car, hands in her pockets, ready to figure out a next step with Victor and Sam. She stops when she hears them arguing.

“...I’m sorry! I didn’t want to make you feel like I didn’t believe in you.”

“You did, Sam. It hurt—it hurt a lot.”

“If you had just told me—”

“So you could laugh it off?”

“Vic, that’s not true. You know I listen to you.”

There’s a long silence, and Nico’s about to interject when Victor finally speaks up.

“Yeah… I guess I just felt like I was overreacting. And that it was a stupid reason to be upset. And I didn’t want you to get worked up over a stupid reason.”

“Vic—”

“Whatever, okay? It’s okay. I’m—I’m sorry, let’s just figure out how to fix this.”

Nico squints, and she can see their bare silhouettes now, leaned up against the car. Sam is taller than Vic, so it must be him that reaches out and touches Victor’s arm. They don’t speak any more, but Victor leans into Sam’s side, and they hold each other in the silence.

Nico’s heart aches.

“Hey,” Nico says weakly, sidling up next to Victor.

“Nico.” Victor doesn’t bother looking up at her. “I’m sorry about the car.”

“It’s not your fault,” Nico sighs. “This was… a pretty ill-thought-out plan to begin with.”

Sam snorts. “That’s putting it generously.”

“So what now?” Victor asks, ignoring their barbs. “We can’t call a tow truck, and I don’t even know where the nearest town is.”

“Maybe if you actually looked at Google Maps,” Sam grumbles, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “You’d see we’re an hour out of Phoenix.”

“Phoenix?” Nico echoes. “Arizona?”

“That’s probably why it’s so fucking cold.” Victor shoves his hands in his pockets. “Desert nights and all that.”

“How far is it to get to L.A. from here?” Nico asks Sam, peering over his elbow at his phone screen, but the brightness is blinding—she can’t really see anything, anyways.

“Five hours.” Sam frowns—that, Nico can see, since his phone illuminates their faces.

“Little too far to walk,” Victor comments idly. “Is there anywhere we can stay overnight?”

Sam shakes his head. “Pretty much everything nearby would be in Phoenix.”

“Rats,” Victor says, shaking his head.

“Well, fuck.” Nico stands on her toes, squinting at the phone and trying to think. “Is there anyone we can call?”

“Gert and Chase?” Victor suggests, and Nico’s heart lifts instantly.

“God, Victor, your one IQ point isn’t so useless after all.” Nico digs out her phone from the backseat, scrolling through her contacts until she sees Chase. She presses call, hoping, praying that he’s still awake, that they can help.

‘Hello?’ Chase asks groggily, like the call had woken him up.

“Chase? Thank God you’re awake.”

‘Nico? What’s going on?’

“Uh,” Nico begins, but stops on her words, unsure of how to even start explaining the mess that they’re in. Luckily, Victor snatches her phone from her hands, presses the speaker button, and continues for her.

“Hey Chase, it’s Vicky. Listen—we’re, ah, in a bit of a bind at the moment.”

‘A bind?’

Then, Gert’s voice comes through the phone. ‘What the fuck have you guys done, now?’

“Hey, Gert,” Nico says.

‘Nico? What the hell is going on?’

‘That’s what I just asked, baby,’ Chase says.

Nico sticks her tongue out. “Gross. Stop being heterosexual for a minute and help us, please?”

‘NICO YOU KNOW DAMN WELL—’

‘How can we help?’ Chase cuts off the beginnings of an angry rant from Gert.

“We’re stranded outside of Phoenix,” Sam says decisively, before anyone else can say anything. “We need a ride the rest of the way to L.A.”

‘How—’

“Long story,” Nico mumbles, now realizing how foolish their idea was, in hindsight. “Can you help?”

‘Nico, this is ridiculous, it’s two in the morning,’ Gert says. ‘Also—is that Sam? Victor? Why the hell would you guys drive all the fucking way out there?’

“Because I screwed up, Gert!” Nico bursts out, impatient and tired and desperate. Everyone else falls silent. “I screwed up, bad, and I—I need to fix it. Can you help or not?”

The other end of the phone is quiet for a long moment. Then, Chase says: ‘We’re on our way. Drop your location and we’ll come get you, okay?’

“Thanks, Chase.” Nico breathes out a sigh of relief. “We’ll see you soon.”

‘Love you guys,’ Chase says, and hangs up.

“Great. Now all we have to do is wait six hours before they show up.” Sam shoves his hands in his pockets while Nico drops their location to Chase. Victor leans against the car again, clearly exhausted and ready to fall asleep at any second. Nico’s actually kind of glad the car broke down when it did, because at least Victor’s not still driving in that state.

“Anyone wanna play I Spy?” He asks.

Six hours of I Spy and granola bars later, Gert and Chase trundle along the road in Chase’s olive green Jeep that Nico has never trusted—but with a mechanic like Chase maintaining it, at least it hasn’t fallen into such disrepair like the Cavalier has. Nico, Sam, and Victor watch as they drive past the Cavalier, turn around in the dirt on the side of the road, and then pull over next to them.

“Hey, sorry,” Chase says after opening the car door. “Didn’t see you guys.”

“We’re the only car for probably ten miles, but yeah. Understandable.” Victor claps Chase on the back. “It’s good to see you, buddy.”

“Good to see you, too. Is this Sam?” Chase asks, turning to Sam. They’re so caught up in pleasantries that Nico hardly notices Gert walking up behind them until she whispers “boo” right in Nico’s ear. Nico shrieks and jumps, to which Gert laughs a genuine, Gert-y laugh.

“Hey, Gert,” Nico says, rubbing her arm to try and hide the goosebumps there.

“Hey. So what’s all this about needing a ride?”

“Victor’s car broke down,” Sam says. “We couldn’t call a tow truck, and you guys were the first people we thought of.”

“You want us to drive you… back to L.A.?” Gert raises a brow.

Nico nods, trying to convey the amount that she needs this in her prolonged eye contact with Gert. Gert stares back for a moment, and then she sighs.

“Fine. Do you have anything in the car we need to move over?”

“No.” Victor stuffs his hands in his pockets. “This was kind of… unplanned.”

“...I see. Let’s go. Chase?”

“Gotcha!” Chase tosses Gert the keys, and Gert catches them easily. He and Victor exchange a glance, and then everyone trudges behind Gert to pile into the Jeep.

It’s a tight squeeze, but the fact that the backseat is so cramped means Nico’s sitting in the middle, with a restless Victor on her left and an exhausted Sam on her right.

Chase falls asleep in the passenger seat, Victor’s got his earbuds in, which leaves Nico and Gert the only two awake. And of course, because it’s Gert, the questions don’t take long to bubble forward.

“Nico. What’s this really about?” Gert’s eyes remain on the road, but Nico knows that her attention is solely on her. Nico’s throat feels dry.

“...Karolina.” It almost hurts just to say her name. Nico squeezes her eyes shut, forcing back the tears that spring into her eyes when she remembers everything Karolina said to her, everything Nico didn’t say back. It hurts.

“...You drove 35 hours just to see Karolina?”

“We didn’t really think it through…” Nico admits.

“I guess not. Geez, Nico—that’s something else right there.” Gert shakes her head, and Nico can’t tell if it’s disapproval or respect. “Karrie told me what happened, the other day.”

Nico swallows. Gert looks up, and she must see the pain in Nico’s face, because she continues: “Karolina’s hurt, Nico. She’s angry, and she’s hurt, and she wants to be alone. Truth be told, I don’t know how she’s going to react to you showing up and apologizing—if that’s what you’re planning on doing.”

“I—”

“She doesn’t want promises, Nico.” Gert blows through Nico’s protestations. “She doesn’t want pretty words and tears and grand gestures. She just wants you, Nico—and she wants change. She wants to know that it will be different, and that you both can be better.”

Nico’s silent. She doesn’t know if she had been thinking that she could win Karolina back with dramatics and promises, but now she knows she can’t. And Nico doesn’t have proof that she’s changed, either. So what does she do now?

“I just want her back, Gert,” she whispers, just loudly enough for Gert to hear. “I just want her back.”

Gert’s hands on the wheel don’t change, her eyes on the road don’t change. “I know.”

Nico doesn’t know how she feels when they roll up to Karolina’s apartment building. She’s never been here before, but apparently Karolina moved here after Nico left.

It makes sense.

Nico’s mouth feels dry. She doesn’t know what she’ll say, doesn’t know how she’s going to keep herself from breaking apart when she sees Karolina’s face again. What if Karolina doesn’t open the door? What if she does, only to slam it in Nico’s face? What if Karolina hears all she has to say, and then decides she’s done with Nico? Done with her altogether? What if Karolina hates her?

Well. Actually, that’s the most likely outcome.

Nico can’t stop her hands from shaking as Gert parks the Jeep in front of one of the buildings, and doubly so when Gert turns around to look at her.

“God, Nico. You’re a mess.”

“Am I?” Nico asks sarcastically, trying to keep her teeth from grinding.

“Yeah. I dunno, maybe you’ll pull on her heartstrings more like that. Anyways, she lives on the third floor, in apartment 347. Okay?”

The words slick right off of Nico’s brain, and Nico scrambles to retain any of that information. Third floor. 347.

“Got it,” Nico says hoarsely.

Gert’s eyes soften. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do,” Nico says, determined not to fuck this up. Determined to never fuck it up again. “I’ll text you when it’s over.”

“Okay. I’m gonna take the boys to IHop. We’ll save you some?”

Nico doesn’t feel like she could eat anytime for the rest of her life, but she nods. “Sounds great.”

“Okay.” Gert reaches out and gives her arm a squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” Nico says, and then finally reaches over Sam to open the door. She slips past him and out the door, breathing fresh, morning air. She shuts the door behind her and makes it to the sidewalk before Gert begins backing out, waving at her. Nico waves back, nervous.

Now, there’s only one thing left to do for Nico. She takes a deep, steadying breath—it doesn’t help, but Nico likes to think it does. She’s about to turn around and begin climbing the stairs, when a familiar voice sounds from behind her.

“Nico?”

Chapter Text

Nico’s breath catches in her chest, and she turns to see Karolina— Karolina, Karolina, Karolina— standing at the bottom of a flight of cement stairs, her purse in one hand, her car keys in the other. She looks… exhausted. Like there’s nothing left of her, nothing left after Nico took every hope she had and blew them out, leaving nothing but ash in the aftermath.

She’s staring straight at Nico, her lips just barely parted in shock, like her presence is the last thing Karolina ever expected to see. Hell, it probably is, since Nico lives on the other side of the continent. But there’s still that burning need, that need that tastes like gasoline in the back of her throat, to fix this. She has to—or at least, she has to try.

“Hey,” Nico says, and it sounds stupid, even to herself. Her voice is coarse and harsh and not at all how she usually sounds, but it’s what comes out of her mouth, and she flinches. Karolina looks away.

“...Hi.”

“I, uh…” Nico trails off, trying to figure out where to even begin, how to say what’s in her heart, how to give words to emotions she can’t name, how to lay herself out, bare and empty, for Karolina to see and understand.

“What are you doing here?” Karolina asks, her voice small, uncertain. She won’t meet Nico’s eyes. “I thought you lived in Miami.”

“I… I do. I just…” Nico’s throat is dry, and her hands are shaking, badly, but she can’t stop now. She can’t back down. She can’t run away. She can’t hide and wait for everything to pass her over. She won’t.
    “I want to make this right, Karrie.”

Perhaps the use of the familiar nickname is what kicks her—Karolina looks up at Nico, then, meeting her eyes for the first time in days, and Nico’s struck by how stormy they look. They’ve always held oceans, baby blue skies, and salt air, but now they look like the darkness brewing on the ocean’s horizon—and with it, the sinking feeling of despair, knowing that there’s nothing you can do but batten down the hatches and wait for it to pass.

“What’s ‘this’?” Karolina’s voice is deadly, quiet, and strung tighter than a highwire. One wrong step, one wobble, one twitch of muscle, and Nico falls.

“...Us. We—I was wrong, Karrie. I hurt you, and I hurt you worse than I ever wanted, a hundred times worse than you deserved—you deserve so much, Kar. So much. And I’m sorry—I’m sorry I wasn’t that for you, I’m sorry that I let my sickness come in between us, and I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to realize how completely stupid I was, and even longer to realize I wasn’t getting better without you, because you helped me, Kar. And I should’ve helped you—I should’ve been more for you, and I wasn’t. It wasn’t fair, and I let you carry everything by yourself for so long because I didn’t know how to help myself, I didn’t know how to ask for help, and I didn’t know how bad I’d gotten. I was sick and hurting and it felt like I was alone—which was stupid, because I had you, and my parents, and my friends, and it took a lot to see that.” Nico hasn’t spoken this much in so long, and she’s not sure where the words are pouring from, but she knows she can’t stop yet. Her heart is beating faster and she’s losing her ability to stop the words from falling out of her mouth—every word that’s been brewing since that day, two years ago. Every word she’s needed to say since. “But I see it now, Karrie—I know I should’ve owned up and gotten help. I know I shouldn’t have collapsed in on myself like that, I know you deserved someone who could give you the world, and I know that even though I know all of this, it doesn’t mean anything to you.” Karolina’s eyebrows shoot upward, and Nico can’t read the tumultuous expression on her face, but Nico presses on. “It doesn’t mean anything because I know I can’t make this better with promises and empty words that I can’t prove. I can’t change anything by giving you some flowery hopes and then, down the line,” Nico ignores the way her stomach flutters at the thought of even having a future with Karolina, “turning out the same way. Like… like I didn’t learn at all.”

Karolina nods, her stormy, cold, broken eyes brimmed over with tears. She sniffs, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. When she speaks, her voice is wobbly and tired—so, so tired.

“So what are you going to do?”

Nico’s heart has never hurt more than upon hearing the sadness in her voice, hearing the tiredness, hearing the exhaustion that comes with being on the same endless loop of hurt and pain and pointless circles chased because they couldn’t be honest, because they didn’t know how to reach out to one another, because when worst came to worst, Nico didn’t know how to let Karolina be her refuge—all she knew how to do was break.

“I… I don’t know.”

Karolina’s mouth—the mouth that Nico kissed so many times, each time not enough, never enough to tell her how much she meant to Nico—sets into a hard line.

“Why did you even come back, Nico?”

Nico’s heart skips a beat, and tears spring into her eyes, unbidden. None of that—none of her words meant anything. Gert had said Karolina didn’t want grand gestures and pretty words, but Nico didn’t know how true it was. Now, now Karolina just looks like she wants to be done.

“We… we’re both different now, Kar.” Karolina looks sharply at her, but Nico plows on, trying to drown out the sound of her heart breaking further and further the longer she stares at Karolina’s hopeless, tired eyes. “We’re never going to have what we had, we’re never going to be the same as we were before. And… and I think that’s okay.” Nico tears her eyes away just for a second, because she can’t bear to see Karolina’s reaction when she says her next few words. “I think… I think we both made a lot of mistakes. Stupid ones. I think it wasn’t really my fault, and it wasn’t really your fault, that that happened. We both screwed up a lot, and we’re both paying for it. Because—because I don’t think you’ve been all that happy since I left, either.” Nico looks up again, into Karolina’s eyes, the eyes she loved, the eyes she still loves, finding steel courage somewhere deep in that coward’s heart of hers. She seizes it. “Right?”

Now it’s Karolina’s turn to flush, to look away in shame, to shove her hands in her pockets and run out of words to say. That’s okay, though—Nico’s not going anywhere. Not this time.

“I… yeah.” Karolina doesn’t even sound angry, which is a little surprising. Just… embarrassed. Exhausted. Tired of hiding from her demons. “After… after you left, I started drinking. A lot. I thought I could stop whenever I wanted to, that it wasn’t a problem…. Until I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t, Nico.” She shoves her hands a little deeper in her pockets, bites her lip, does anything but look into Nico’s guilty, aching eyes that want nothing more than to tell her it’s okay, they can fix it together, they can rebuild their lives and be okay. “It… it just hurt too much. Whenever I wasn’t drinking, I was thinking about you.” Finally, finally, she meets Nico’s eyes, and the storms in them almost break Nico. “All the time. Even when I was drunk, I couldn’t stop. All the sex and all the drinks in the world didn’t stop it, Nico.”

Nico’s breath catches in her throat when she hears Karolina’s voice brimming with anger, brimming with hot anger and tears and everything that she never said, everything unspoken but Nico hears plain as day: I spent two years of my life thinking about you. I never stopped.

Nico doesn’t know what to say. Her throat is dry, her words gone, and everything she could’ve said to fix this, everything she could’ve done to try and fix what they broke, it doesn’t matter when the one thing Nico can’t do is turn back the clock.

So they have to move forward.

“Karrie, I—I’m so sorry. I’ll never stop being sorry for that, because you didn’t, you never deserved that. And I can’t make it up to you, I can’t make it better, and I can’t even promise it won’t happen again, because I know how badly I hurt you.” Thunder rumbles overhead. Nico ignores it.

“Yeah, well.” Karolina sniffs, wiping her tears on her sleeve again. “We can’t change the past, right?”

“Kar—Karolina.” Nico forces herself to use her name, instead of the petnames she’s used since day one. “I… I can’t promise anything will be different. I can’t promise that I’ve changed and that things can be different.”

Karolina snorts, her cheeks wet. “I know, Nico. Trust me.”

“Listen, Karolina. Please,” Nico adds at the end, because this is delicate, delicate, and one word wrong would destroy the rest of her life forever. “I can’t promise anything can be different. But… but I can promise that we— I know better, now.” Karolina’s eyes snap up to meet Nico’s, just as Nico feels the first drop of rain on her cheek. Her eyes are blue, so blue, and Nico can’t help but be reminded of the lightning in thunderclouds, or the electric way her lips always tasted, or the ocean after a storm—eerily calm, but still charged, like a touch could shock. She presses on: “I can promise that even if I haven’t changed, even if nothing changes, I know that I can trust you with my life, Kar. I know I can learn, and I know that every time I fall, now, I’ll pick myself up. I won’t give up, Kar. I’ll try, and I’ll keep trying until I get it right, because if there’s anything I learned in these past two years— anything— it’s that giving up doesn’t work. I gave up the first time, and I’m still standing here right now, right back where we started.” Nico smiles dryly, without any real humor in it. “And I think if I know all of that, then something must have changed, after all.”

Nico watches Karolina’s face cautiously, waiting for a response, waiting for any reaction at all. Her features are unreadable, deep in thought, and Nico’s about to burst, about to scream, about to cry and turn around and drive the forty hours back home because it’s easier, it’s easier than standing here with all of her cards on the table, all of her amor thrown away, all of her doubts and reservations and hesitations laid down for Karolina to see, everything peeled back to show Karolina Nico’s beating heart and see how small, how weak, how fragile it really is.

Nico can hear her own heartbeat in her ears. One. Two. Three. Four. The rain is falling a little harder now, and drops splatter onto Nico’s shoulders. She doesn’t hear anything but her heartbeat.

All Nico’s waiting for is the pin to drop.

“I love you so much, Nico Minoru,” Karolina finally says, just barely above a whisper, with a relieved laugh and thick tears streaming down her cheeks. She drops her purse on the sidewalk, drops her keys, drops everything, and Nico hardly realizes they’re running towards each other until she has Karolina in her arms, Karolina’s arms wrapped tightly around her in the tightest hug they’ve ever shared, hands clasping at shoulders and heads and laughs turning into sobs. Nico can’t believe, can’t believe Karolina’s in her arms, smelling like cinnamon and vanilla as always, and it’s so warm, so familiar, so right.

This is right.

Karolina pulls away, and Nico barely has time to open her mouth before she draws Nico back in, this time crashing their lips together in a messy, wet kiss. Both of them are smiling too much for it to be anything more than just sloppily mashing their lips together, but it’s so, so refreshing. It feels like a new start, like finally, her life makes sense again, like the pieces of herself can start to heal, now. Of course, Karolina can’t heal her—she can’t heal Karolina, either. But they can be there for each other while they heal themselves.

The rain pours harder, now, and Nico can’t bring herself to care. She drops all pretense of their hug and grabs Karolina’s cheeks with both hands, kissing as fiercely as she can, as deeply and passionately as every kiss that she didn’t give during their two years apart. The love and hurt and tenderness from every lonely night, from every bottle opened, from every moment spent wishing Karolina were there with her, wishing that she hadn’t been so royally stupid, wishing that she could change what she’d done—she pours all of it into this kiss.

Karolina kisses her back just as readily, and Nico almost feels like she’s being swallowed by the tide, with the amount of passion that Karolina kisses her back with. It’s overwhelming, staggering, absolutely enveloping—and Nico sinks into it. She lets it melt her, lets it carry her away and remind her that they had everything, they can have everything again, and all she has to do it claim it.

“That was all I needed,” Karolina murmurs, breathless against Nico’s lips. “All I wanted was for you to say it would be different.”

“It might not be,” Nico can’t help put whisper back. Karolina shakes her head just slightly in disagreement.

“You said it yourself—you know better now. And… and I do too. And we’re not going to be better right away, but we can learn, and we can start to pick ourselves up out of this mess.” Karolina smiles, and Nico relishes the thrill that goes off in her stomach from seeing that again, from being so achingly close and getting to be so near Karolina again. Because Karolina wants her to be. “And we’ve got a lot of picking up to do.”

Nico laughs a small, absolutely sickly in love laugh. “Yeah, we do. God, we turned into such messes so fast.”

Karolina hums, pressing their lips together again in a softer kiss that sends Nico over the moon, and she never wants to come back down. Her hands curl into Karolina’s hair unbidden, and she almost whines when Karolina pulls away.

“We’ll figure it out together, right? That’s what this is about.”

“Are we a ‘this’ so soon?” Nico’s smug grin is almost enveloped by yet another kiss. Karolina’s hands over Nico’s shoulders slide down to rest on her hips, and Nico shivers at the touch, so familiar, so sweet, everything she needed and everything she missed.

“We’ve always been a ‘this,’ Nico.”

Nico squints—she’s trying to think of a response, but she’s already melted into the pavement as a puddle of lovesick goo. She opens her mouth to say something, but rain pours down and splashes into her mouth—only then does she realize how cold the rain is, and how thoroughly they’re both soaked.

“Where were you even going, anyways?” Nico asks, nodding at Karolina’s purse and keys still on the sidewalk. Karolina casts a glance over her shoulder, following Nico’s gaze.

“Oh. I was getting eggs.”

“Really?” Nico leans back in Karolina’s arms, scrutinizing her face. Karolina shrugs.

“I might be chronically depressed, but God, I hate eating ramen.”

Nico laughs. “Let’s get back inside before we freeze to death.”

Chapter Text

Karolina doesn’t know exactly when she wakes up—if it’s all at once or very, very slowly, but the first thing she’s aware of is the sunlight filtering down through the blinds and onto their bed. It’s unusual because, most mornings, she’s awake just as the sun’s beginning to rise, and hardly ever sleeps in.

Nico shifts beside her, grumbling something impossible to make out. Karolina tilts her head up and snuggles her chin further into Nico’s shoulder, letting her lips just barely brush Nico’s jaw.

“Do you want breakfast?” She mumbles, still heavy from sleep. Nico presses further into the pillow as a response, so at least Karolina knows she’s awake. She places a slow, lingering kiss on Nico’s neck. “Please?”

“No,” Nico groans. “Sleep.”

Karolina pouts, and she knows Nico knows, because a second later, Nico sighs.

“Kar, just once, stay in bed.”

Karolina rolls over, retracting her warmth from Nico’s body in a sulk. “Fine. Be cold.”

Nico squirms over the few feet that Karolina rolled and wraps her arms around Karolina’s waist. “Whyyyy do you hate me?”

Karolina lets herself relax into Nico’s clutch, accepting defeat.

“Fine.” She isn’t going anywhere soon, not with Nico’s warm skin pressed to her own, her lips in a kiss between Karolina’s shoulders. It’s… nice, to be so blissfully in the moment, with nothing to think about but sheets wrapped around them and the idea of spending a whole morning in bed with the girl she absolutely adores.

The thought spurs Karolina to roll over and bring her hands up Nico’s sides, kissing her forehead. Nico grunts in surprise, having to scramble backwards to avoid getting crushed. Karolina laughs a little.

“I love you,” she whispers, and Nico grins at the words. Karolina means them—she learned her lesson with using those words so thoughtlessly. After two years of wishing, wishing she could’ve said them just one more time, every time Karolina gets to say them, now, she says them like a prayer, and treats every syllable with reverence.

Nico’s silent for a minute, just smiling and looking up at Karolina with sleepy but adoring eyes. And then, just when Karolina’s about to lean down and kiss her because God, Nico looks so fond and sweet right now and Karolina cannot take it, she says back, “I love you, too.”

From the way she says it, she must be saying it just as carefully. To be honest, there’s never not a twinge of sadness with the phrase, for Karolina—she’s always reminded of the times that she didn’t say it, and the times she wanted to say it but couldn’t, and the times when the words felt like salt in a wound. But she says them, anyways, because saying them is the victory that she earned, saying them is the happy ending that she deserves.

Karolina hooks her ankle around one of Nico’s and leans down for a long, slow, simmering kiss. She presses her lips to Nico’s like it’s the last time she ever will, but at the same time, with very little urgency at all. It’s a perfect blend of passionate and patient, as Nico would say she always is. It’s not a surprise when Nico’s lips part in a small gasp, and Karolina eagerly takes the opportunity to slip her tongue in, intensifying the kiss and reluctant to break away. She could do this all morning, and she would, if they didn’t have other responsibilities. But for now, they can enjoy this: the feeling of their tongues brushing together, their bodies entwined and their breaths indistinguishable from one another. Where Karolina ends, Nico begins. She was an idiot to ever let her go.

“Kar—Karrie,” Nico gasps, pulling away just slightly. “Again? I’m still sore from last night.”

Karolina snorts. “Shit, I guess if you don’t want to…”

Nico captures her lips with a kiss, abruptly cutting off that thought. “That is not what I said.”

Karolina grins, a touch smug at how quickly Nico grasped her wrist, how much love Nico poured into that kiss. No one else gets to lie in bed with Nico like this, fresh from the night’s sleep and eager to start their day, but not quite there yet. They’re existing in the in-between, before the day officially begins, and dragging every moment they can out of it.

“Mmm, I’m gonna need some clarification, then.” Karolina lets her lips graze over Nico’s cheek, slow and teasingly. She’s working her way down to Nico’s jaw, to her neck, to her collarbone. Nico’s breathless, now—Karolina can feel in her heartbeat thrumming against her lips, in Nico’s breath hitching at Karolina’s tongue dancing down her neck, in the way their breaths fall together, their bodies so close that it would be impossible not to feel every breath Nico takes against her own chest.

“I…” Nico tries to respond but it’s the exact moment that Karolina’s teeth snag on the hem of her shirt, pulling at it just a little, and the way Nico’s voice scatters instantly only fuels Karolina further. She pushes on Nico’s shoulder, gently, and Nico bends with her, allowing Karolina to push her completely onto her back. She props herself over Nico by her elbows, sliding her hips across Nico’s until she’s straddling her. Karolina gives her best smug, flirty smile, and Nico looks more than a little mesmerized.

“I love you, Karolina Dean,” Nico murmurs, struggling to lean up on her elbows but giving up after Karolina lowers herself down to meet her in a kiss—a warm, loving, softly affirming one that blooms in Karolina’s chest. This is what she loves—she loves being intimate and sexual at the same time, instead of detaching them from each other as she’s done for years, unable to be sexual until she couldn’t be anything but. Nico’s brought that balance back, and now, it just feels right. Like something is finally okay again.

“I love you, too, Nico Minoru,” Karolina says against Nico’s lips, in between kisses. It’s a lot of words to get out, but she does, and Nico’s hands threading through her hair as she says it is the best feeling in the world. “So… again?”

“God, yes.”

“Shit, I’m gonna be late.”

Karolina cracks her eye open to Nico sitting up in bed beside her, running her hands through her tangled hair and checking the clock. Karolina opens her mouth to ask for what, since they don’t have to be anywhere until Gert and Chase’s dinner party later tonight, but then she remembers: Nico has appointments today. And her parents are in town.

“When do you need to leave?” Karolina asks, throwing a hand over her eyes because the sunlight is fucking blinding. She only moves her hand away when Nico’s hair tickles her nose, and Karolina peeks to see Nico tying her hair up in a messy bun.

“Uhhh… five minutes ago.”

“Shit.” Karolina’s brain is churning, but there’s nothing happening. She’s not used to sleeping so late, and the urgency of the situation doesn’t help. “Where are you going?”

“Therapy appointment. And then my mom’s, but we can get breakfast before that.”

Karolina squints, nodding. Therapy. Nico’s mom’s house. Gert and Chase’s. It’s not a long list, but it’s one she needs to remember, as the designated driver (and only driver in their household of two).

“Get dressed, I’ll make your coffee,” Nico says, standing up and rummaging around in the dresser for a shirt to put on. Karolina yawns, stretching out a little, her legs and stomach feeling stiff and sore. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.

“Okay, okay,” Karolina says agreeably, as she usually tries to be. Nico huffs and slips on a bra and a shirt, tugging on pants next, and by the time she’s done, Karolina’s completely forgotten what she was doing, too busy watching Nico. When Nico turns around and sees Karolina staring, she flushes a little, and Karolina does the same. It’s funny how they’re still so timid, so shy, despite everything. Maybe it’s the newness of their state, the tentative relationship that they’ve been navigating together for almost a year, now, and they’re scared that a misstep will break them apart for good.

It’s different this time, though. Nico and Karolina are both in individual therapy, as well as couples’ therapy whenever they can. Karolina goes to AA meetings. Nico’s on antidepressants. It’s hard, their new life—Karolina might not have gone through with it if she’d known what she was in for, that day that Nico came running back and kissed her in the rain.

But as hard as it is, as hard as it’s been every day to fight the deep-seated instinct to reach for a bottle of alcohol or lie in bed for fourteen hours, she still fights it, and she only can because of Nico. So every morning, they wake each other up and take their medicines, sometimes shaking the other awake, in Karolina’s case. Nico has to take hers early in the morning for it to last all day, but she almost always sleeps through her alarm. Karolina doesn’t mind it—she loves brightening Nico’s morning by being the first thing she sees. And in return, Nico holds vigil over their apartment, stopping any alcohol at the door, including bottles Karolina’s tried to bring home. She puts her foot down quickly at the ‘I’m just having one’ excuse, and once made Karolina pour out a forty dollar bottle of wine on the steps (usually she wouldn’t have, but it was late, and Gert and Chase didn’t want it. So… drastic measures).

Karolina had known getting back together wouldn’t be the magic glue that healed everything right away, and actually living it had proven more true than she’d ever realized—but she hadn’t realized that having Nico back would make facing those hurdles easier, with the person she loves supporting her the whole way. And they carry each other through it, hold each other in therapy when they start to cry, and listen when frustrations get shouted across the room. It has been hard, so, so hard, but Karolina’s proud of the progress she’s made—that they both have made—and it’s finally starting to pay off for them.

“Um… getting dressed?” Nico’s still standing in front of her, staring, and her voice shakes Karolina out of her thoughts. It’s with a wry smile that she pushes herself to her feet.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Nico rolls her eyes, but not without a fond smile creeping up her lips. Karolina obliges her, though, and starts to search for clothes as Nico finally leaves, and Karolina can hear her footsteps fading down the hall as she sets about to make the morning coffee for Karolina, and a tea for herself.

Karolina slides on her favorite pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater, satisfied that the outfit will be appropriate for all events of the day. Gert has never been a big fan of formality, so she had insisted everyone come casually. It’s not more than a minute (which Karolina spends searching for a hair tie) before Nico pops her head back in, Karolina’s jacket now on over the rest of her clothes, two cups of coffee in hand, asking, “Ready?”

Karolina half-smiles, grabbing her car keys from the top of the dresser. “Ready.”

Karolina pulls into Gert and Chase’s driveway, six hours later, a tired Nico and a neatly wrapped gift in tow. They’re warm and lazy from a lunch shared, Nico doubly so because of lunch with her mother just after.

Actually, Karolina had expected Nico to be grouchy from her lunch—her and her mother have never gotten along, especially after Nico had dyed her hair and moved away (to be fair, Karolina can relate). But Nico’s mood had been as elated as it ever gets, which was a relief. And now, they’re ten minutes late to Gert and Chase’s because they’d been making out in the parking lot of the breakfast café. Nico’s lipstick is still smeared, Karolina notices, but doesn’t say anything. It’s not like she can fix it, anyways, and surely Gert will have the tact not to mention it.

At least, that’s what Karolina hopes, right up until Gert opens the door, belly swollen to the size of a large watermelon, and the first thing she says is, “Nico, your lipstick is smeared.”

Nico flushes red. Gert grins her trademark, shit-eating grin. “Glad to see you celebrating my baby shower without me.”

“ Our baby shower,” Chase corrects, from somewhere in the living room. Gert waves him off.

“It’s not your uterus being occupied for nine months, so it’s my baby. You just happened to help make it.”

Chase huffs something else that Karolina can’t make out, but they’ve clearly had this argument before, because Gert just rolls her eyes.

“Anyways, come inside. Everyone else is already here,” she adds, a little too sharply, her eyes flicking from Karolina’s (probably smudged with black) lipstick to Nico’s. Karolina has the decency to feel embarrassed.

Gert steps back to allow Karolina and Nico to brush past, though with Gert taking up twice as much room as she used to, it’s a bit of a squeeze. As soon as they’re inside, Gert shuts the door behind them.

“Kar! Nico!” Victor’s grinning from the couch, one leg tossed casually over his fiancé’s, Sam. Karolina’s never met Sam, but he was one of Nico’s roommates in New York, so that’s… something. At least.

She used to avoid the thought of them, fighting feelings of jealousy and resentment every time Nico mentioned one of them—but now, it’s just simple gratitude. She really should be thanking Sam and especially Victor—she still doesn’t quite understand that Nico had to leave, and maybe she’s still a little bitter about that whole mess in the first place, but now she’s just grateful that someone else could be there for Nico when she couldn’t.

Molly and Klara sit in the plush red armchair that Gert and Karolina found one afternoon at a garage sale—Gert had only bought it because the owner’s assurances that there was nothing wrong with it, they were just redecorating (even then, she had been suspicious. But now it’s her favorite). Molly waves, and Klara gives a bashful little smile.

Alex is leaning to the side in a wooden dining room chair thrown haphazardly near the fireplace, probably by Alex himself. He looks easy, content, happy—somehow, he always is, despite all of his friends pretty much just pairing off and leaving him by himself.

Karolina worries about him, sometimes. He reassures her that he’s okay, that he’s doing fine, but she can’t help it. She knows firsthand how much seeing other people happy and in love hurts when you don’t have that for yourself. But now’s not the time. Karolina has to wonder if there will ever be a right time.

And Chase. Chase sits at the piano bench, turned around to see everyone else, legs jaunted and gangly from spreading them out casually, a lopsided smile on his face. Karolina can’t believe he’s going to be a dad.

“Well, now that everyone’s here, we can get started!” Gert says, shooing Karolina and Nico further into the room until both of them fall into the other armchair that was coincidentally left unoccupied. “So, we’re going to have two little games to play, but they’re sort of—well, you just play them throughout the party. There’s no, like, real games, other than those. But anyways, the first one is, everyone gets one guess at the baby’s sex, and the second is that everyone gets two guesses at the baby’s name.”

Chase clears his throat. “My idea, both of them.”

Gert rolls her eyes again, but it’s clearly out of fondness—there’s a smile quirking the corners of her lips.

“And anyways, I thought it would be fun to just… tell stories, I guess.” Gert shakes her head, seemingly flustered. “I don’t know. A favorite memory of us, or something. It’s not for fueling our egos—”

“It’s just to know what’s going to be in your speech at the wedding, so we can stop you if we need to,” Chase says with a laugh. Gert nods.

“Um, I’m gonna sit down, I guess, but—”

“I’ll go first,” Chase offers, stretching out his hands to take his fiancée’s hands as she moves to sit next to him on the bench. He clears his throat. “So, I actually didn’t tell any of you how we got engaged, but it’s a funny story…”

Chase’s hands fiddled in his pocket, nervous. He checked his watch for the third time in five minutes—2:53. Gert was supposed to meet him here at 2:45, after she got off work.

Maybe she was stuck in traffic. Maybe she witnessed an accident and had to stop and give a police officer her testimony. Maybe she was in an accident and she was currently being rushed to the hospital.

None of those thoughts made time pass by any faster, and none of them made Gert appear in the doorway, spewing apologies and giving Chase’s cheek a rushed kiss and a mumbled, ‘I missed you.’ As she did every time they met up for dates.

Chase was getting out his phone to call her when the door to the restaurant burst open, and—much to Chase’s both delight and chagrin, since she’d slammed it open so loudly every head in the vicinity turned to stare—a certain purple-haired girlfriend of his spotted him immediately, her weary and stress-lined face lighting up the second she saw his. Funny—he’s certain his did the exact same.

She bustled through the host and two waiters accosting her and breezed into the seat in front of Chase—he’d asked for a window booth, since he knew how much she liked them.

“We’re meeting at El Cholo? For our anniversary?” Gert’s lip quirked in a half smile that Chase’s heart danced at. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to hold her close and breathe her in and be lost in her.

And that’s why they were there.

“It’s your favorite, right?”

Gert flushed. “Yeah, when I was five.”

Chase reached out across the table for her hand, and she took it easily. “Yeah, but some things don’t change.”

Gert frowned, but in a teasing way.

“By the way, I got you a margarita?” Chase’s voice trickled up at the end, unsure if she’d actually want one, so it’s more of a question of whether or not she wants it.

He hoped she wanted it.

He needed her to.

“Baby, that sounds perfect,” Gert hummed, finally glancing down at the menu.

Chase grinned. “Do you know what you’re gonna eat?”

Gert snorted. “Always. Their crab meat enchiladas are the fucking best.”

Chase, admittedly, hadn’t looked at the menu, and he didn’t eat Mexican that often, so he decided then to repeat her words: “Baby, that sounds perfect.”

Gert snorted. “Gross.”

“Maybe I just love you,” he said, squeezing Gert’s hand a little. She smiled—a real, Gerty smile that he absolutely adored.

The waiter swung by and dropped off their drinks, to which they sprang their hands apart like shy teenagers once again—some things really didn’t change. Chase eyed a couple standing in the front entrance and said, hopefully convincingly, “Babe, look at that lady’s hat.”

Gert rolled her eyes. “Chase, I don’t like staring at people. It’s rude.”

“Gert, seriously—”

Gert sighed and turned her head—Chase snuck his hand out and dropped a twisted silver ring into her drink.

“Chase, I don’t even see—”

“Oh, that’s not a hat. Oops.”

Gert turned back around just as Chase’s hand flitted underneath the table, back to safety. She wore a displeased expression, but hopefully that would change in just a moment.

“What was that about?” Gert asked, her voice suspicious and eyes squinted. Shit.

The waiter swept by at that moment, asking what they wanted to order.

“Crab meat enchiladas, please,” Gert said, closing the menu and not once breaking eye contact with Chase.

Chase looked up at the waiter and said, “Same for me, please.”

They handed the waiter their menus and he breezed off again, leaving Gert to pounce on Chase and shred him apart with her questions and prodding.

“I just had a hard time seeing it, I guess.”

Gert frowned and raised her glass— yes, that’s what Chase wanted right then.

But his elation turned to dismay when her lips forewent the straw and pressed straight to the glass, taking a deep swig out of the cup directly—long and honestly, his brain probably just exaggerated it, because it felt like he watched in slow motion, hapless to do anything but watch as the ring loosened itself from the ice and flew straight into her mouth.

Gert coughed once, twice, loud and deep and shuddering—Chase winced.

“Ice,” she managed hoarsely. And all Chase could think was that this was going to be the most humiliating failed engagement in the world. She was going to spit the ring right into his face and take her stuff, marching out of the restaurant in disgust.

Gert coughed again, a final time, as she spat the ring onto the table in between them.

Chase, ironically, felt his heartbeat in his mouth. Like, sure, Gert probably just almost died because of his idiocy (but seriously, why didn’t she drink out of the straw?), and he was worried about her and he’d much rather her be okay than anything else—but also, the cat was out of the bag. And Gert was staring at the ring.

Her eyes flicked between the ring and Chase, more than once. In fact, she did it a few times. Her mouth was slightly agape, and though it was probably just to keep air moving to her lungs, Chase couldn’t help but be in love with how her mouth looks.

“Chase… Stein,” she said, and Chase appreciated that even with her love of drama, she’d never use his first name. “Chase. Stein. You thought choking me was a good way to propose? ”

She said the last word a little too loudly, and heads turned across the whole restaurant. She flushed a deep scarlet before furiously whispering, “In what universe is that romantic?”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to choke ,” Chase whispered back. “You were supposed to drink out of the straw! ”

Gert opened her mouth and then snapped it shut angrily. “Fine! I’ll marry you, you stupid son of a bitch!”

Chase blinked, having entirely forgotten about the ring. “W—what?”

“I said —” Gert whispered, but it was more of a stage whisper then, “I’ll marry you.” She grinned. “But only if we take my last name.”

Chase’s heart pounded in his throat. Oh, my God, Gert just agreed to marry him, even after he accidentally choked her.

Oh, my God. They’re going to get married.

“I love you so much,” he said at a normal volume, and Gert’s anxious lip bite turned into a wide, genuine smile. She leaned forward across the table and kissed him, quick and light on the lips. He could feel her infectious joy radiating from her.

“I love you, too.”

“...And then the next week, we found out she was pregnant.” Chase finishes, and Karolina, already grinning, positively shrieks in delight.

Gert and Chase’s story has always been perfect to her. High school sweethearts, college lovers, and now, finally, partners for life with a child on the way. Out of all the people in the world Karolina expected to settle into ‘nuclear family suburban mom,’ Gert was the last on the list (and she’d never admit to being a PTA soccer mom, no matter what). But here she was, the first out of their friend group to marry and settle down, and the last to say she’s unhappy.

Maybe Gert got a running start, or maybe Karolina tripped and fell a few feet from the finish line, and now she has to start over. Either way, the thought of Gert and Chase’s perfect life makes Karolina’s heart… ache. For everything she lost in those two years. For wherever she could be now if she’d just stayed with Nico.

But she keeps quiet and congratulates Chase and Gert on their engagement (the wedding has been postponed until after the birth—Gert doesn’t want to buy a dress that won’t fit in a month), even if it makes her glance at Nico out of the corner of her eye more than once.

When will this be us?

They’re too new, still, to talk about kids—Karolina knows it. And truth be told, she’s not sure she wants them. Kids are great and all, and she loves them, but they’re just… not for her. And anyways, they haven’t even talked about getting married or anything—Nico just moved back for good only a few months ago, having just peddled back and forth between L.A. and Miami for a while, moving her stuff and getting complications worked out. Job stuff and taxes and the real world still existed, unfortunately, which meant that Karolina’s dream world that she’d landed in when she kissed Nico in the rain that second time didn’t last long.

But they made it work. And somehow, they still are. And Karolina can’t help but wonder where they’d be now, if they’d decided to stay together. Would they be dysfunctional—a screaming wreck of a messy relationship that should’ve ended long before it began, toxic and withered and deadened at the root?

Or could they have had their engagement party long before now?

Nico’s hand brushes against Karolina’s gently, and Karolina looks up, startled. She’s got that concerned look in her eyes, like she always does when she knows Karolina’s starting to overthink.

“What’s on your mind?” Nico asks, voice soft and gently prodding, knowing that even if she has to prompt, Karolina will spill it out eventually. She’s always known her like that.

Karolina glances around at the people around them before standing up out of Nico’s lap and saying, loudly, “I’m gonna go get drinks. Anyone want anything?”

Gert waves towards the kitchen. “Help yourself. Just juice for me, since you’re up.” Gert winkles her nose after a moment. “Not Chase’s pineapple shit, though—the cranberry orange.”

Karolina nods. Nico stands up to follow her, and Karolina slips into the kitchen without another word, certain her girlfriend is close on her heels.

Girlfriend. It’s refreshing and warming even after almost a whole year of being able to say it again—but today, it’s not enough. Today, Karolina wants to say fianceé. Or—better yet, wife.

What a wonderful word that is.

“Karrie?” Nico asks, leaning into her and wrapping her arms around her waist. Karolina’s hands immediately find themselves tangled in Nico’s hair, her lips pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

“Nothing, Nico—I shouldn’t have worried you,” she says with a sigh, unwilling to let go just yet. “I’m just thinking, I guess.”

“What about?”

Does Karolina know what she wants?

Well, yes. She wants to spend the rest of her life with Nico, sharing air and blankets and food and bills and kisses and love and stress and everything that comes with a relationship. She wants all of it—all of her. Nico is it for her, her goddamn soulmate, and she’d be quite the fool to let her go again.

Fool her once. Not twice.

But the thing is—Karolina’s not sure Nico’s ready for such a commitment. Which is fine, especially since she knows it doesn’t diminish Nico’s love for her. It’s just that they both can still hardly believe they were apart for so long, and they’re back together, now—it’s been a year, but it still feels like yesterday that Karolina swept Nico back into her apartment and made out with her on the couch for hours on hours (to be fair, they make out on that couch a lot, now).

But they’ve also been talking a lot about communicating and how important it is, especially to them. And how their relationship won’t withstand heavy things being swept aside where they don’t have to be dealt with (because they do have to be dealt with, eventually). So Karolina bites down on her anxiety and the metaphorical bullet, saying, “It’s, uh, about us.”

Nico’s smile turns into a softly fond one, the one that makes Karolina weak in the knees. She’s a big fan of Nico’s new hair—it’s shorter, the blue chopped off and done away with. But it curls in just the right places and frames her whole face in a loving way that Karolina absolutely adores. She’s sure her eyes must be literal hearts right now.

“I’m a big fan of thinking about us,” Nico murmurs. “Glad to know we agree there.”

Karolina giggles a little. “Always.” She leans down and kisses Nico’s nose, letting her lips linger longer than they need to. Nico’s fingers twist tighter into Karolina’s sweater, and she sighs in what can only be content.

They’re good. Their life is good. They will not break again.

“But actually,” Karolina starts, ever hesitant, but the thought of her being the one to destroy them spurs her onward. “I was thinking… about our future. ”

Nico’s eyes flick up to hers, and Karolina holds her gaze, level and steady but inwardly terrified of what Nico will say. Her breath catches in her chest.

“...Oh.”

Oh, indeed.

Nico bites her lip and looks away. “Well, uh—shit, maybe we should’ve talked about this—” Karolina’s heart sinks into her stomach, cold and heavy, and she blinks back tears, certain that Nico’s about to leave her again, that this is all happening again but she can’t go back to her old life, she can’t go back to bars and booze and sex, she can’t, she can’t, she can’t. “—but… I’m not really much of a… kid person.”

Karolina blinks. “Oh, my God.”

Nico flushes. “Yeah, I know, you probably want like twenty—”

“No, oh my God, that’s perfect.” Karolina kisses Nico’s forehead in glee. “You’re perfect.”

Nico blinks at her, clearly not understanding. “Huh?”

“I thought you wanted kids,” Karolina says, trying not to scream with delight and crush Nico to death in the tightest hug ever. “And I don’t know what I would’ve said if you said you wanted them.”

“Well—um, glad we got that out of the way.”

Karolina nods. “And it’s not like we can’t ever change our minds, you know?”

Nico gives her a smile, her hands sliding across Karolina’s lower back. “Of course—this is just how we feel right now.”

Karolina gives her a sly look. “I’m perfectly happy with just you and the bed, thanks.”

Nico smacks her arm. “We’re not doing this here.”

“Gert and Chase do it all the time.”

“This is their house!”

“Yeah, and their bed’s seen worse than ours,” Karolina says, rolling her eyes.

“That’s because they were actually… together…” Nico’s voice trails off, and Karolina’s blood runs a little colder.

They still don’t talk much about their two years apart, and sometimes, it’s painfully obvious. When Karolina asks where Nico learned how to crochet, or when Nico asks Karolina when she learned so much about fabric types—the answers are unspoken. Without you.

Karolina tries to remember what their therapist had sad when they found themselves in these situations, and she cups Nico’s cheek with one hand, surprised to see tears already gathered in her eyes.

“Hey—hey, it doesn’t matter that we fell behind, okay?” Maybe those were the wrong words, maybe they weren’t, but she can’t stop—not when Nico’s looking at her with those big, soulful eyes that hold the weight of galaxies on their shoulders. “It doesn’t. We just… we had to find our footing again, okay? And I’m glad we did, because now we know better, and we’re not gonna make those same mistakes.” Karolina allows herself a sad smile for the memories that don’t belong to her—the memories that were taken from her the day Nico broke up with her, the memories of those past two years spent with Nico instead of the bar down the street and her hookup of the night. She’d give anything to have them—she still would.

But now, it’s time to let that go.

Nico nods once, twice, her chin bobbing against Karolina’s hand. “You’re… you’re right.” She sniffs. “I guess it just sucks, knowing that we could be so much further along right now but we’re stuck here, trying to make up for lost time.”

Karolina can agree with that (and it also helps that she’s more open about how she feels, now—Nico from last year would’ve ended the sentence with ‘I guess.’), since it does suck a lot and every night she wishes things could be different.

“We’re together, right?” Karolina gives her a smile. “And that’s enough, right now.”

Nico’s hands tighten in Karolina’s sweater, and Karolina almost misses how she stands on her toes just before their lips are pressed together in a warm, gentle kiss that reminds Karolina of every reason behind letting Nico back into her heart, where she belongs.

Nico’s heart is her home, and Nico’s is hers.

Karolina kisses her back, fiercely, with want and love and the kind of aching that only makes sense when you’re just so fed up with not being completely connected to someone, the kind of aching that happens when your souls are made of the same stardust and they’re straining to find each other again. Karolina didn’t believe in soulmates before she found Nico again, but damned if she doesn’t, now.

Nico leans back just slightly, probably just to tilt her head and kiss Karolina again, honestly, but Karolina’s breathless and all of her walls are down, and Nico’s amazing right now, so she blurts out, soft and for once in her life, completely sure: “Marry me.”

Nico’s lips stop, and her eyes flick up to Karolina’s, questioning.

Karolina doesn’t back down.

“Kar…” Nico starts, settling back down on her feet and taking a step back so that they can properly look at each other—Karolina already misses her presence.

“Marry me, Nico. Please.” Karolina tries to ignore the way her voice cracked on that last syllable, the want just pouring out of her. “It… you’re amazing and perfect and I know we haven’t been back together for very long, but I already can’t imagine my life without you. You’re everything that I love, Nico—” She hates the way her voice trembles, but Nico doesn’t take her eyes away, and Karolina doesn’t know how to stop, now. “And I want you in my life, forever.” Nico’s face changes, becomes something unreadable, and Karolina doesn’t know if it’s fear or hope that drives her last words: “I know we’re… we’re different people than we used to be, and you’re not who you used to be, and I’m not either. And… and we both went through a lot. But we’re really trying, Nico—we’re both trying so hard, and we’ve made a lot of progress, and I honest to God think this can work. If… if you want to take a chance.”

Nico’s brow is furrowed, and her lips are parted just slightly in a small o. Karolina can’t help but study her face, see the way her black hair curls around her cheeks, the way her mouth is perfectly shaped for kissing Karolina’s, the small hook of her nose—Karolina takes in all of it for the billionth time, all of her, and Nico’s lack of a response is killing her.

“Karrie…” Nico says, her voice just barely above a whisper. “How long have you been sitting on that?”

“Since… just now, actually. That was kind of spur-of-the-moment.” Karolina flashes a nervous smile.

Nico shakes her head, somewhere in disbelief or amazement. Karolina’s ego wants to say the former.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Nico leans back in for another kiss, one that Karolina accepts gladly. “And of course I’ll marry you.”

At that, Karolina smiles against Nico’s lips, just utterly in love and wondering how in the world she got so damn lucky.

If our grave was watered by the rain

Would roses bloom?

Could roses bloom?

Again?