Archive of Our Own ^beta

Zazzalil did not like her new roommate. Jemilla and Zazzalil just didn’t work well together. Sure, they hung out with the same people and went places together as a group, but without the others around to act as a buffer, they didn’t get along. But, when Keeri found out Zazzalil’s roommate had just moved out and Jemilla was looking for a new place and suggested Jemilla move in with her, Zazzalil, being the fool that she was, agreed. Jemilla moved in the week after, and immediately their differences came to light.

Jemilla was very no-nonsense. She liked things to be clean, orderly and tidy. She liked everything to be predictable, and that was the exact opposite of Zazzalil. Zazzalil was reckless. She made split-second decisions that were often dangerous or crazy or downright stupid, but she didn’t care, she loved the chaos, loved the rush of adrenaline as she took the leap of faith. Jemilla’s room was spotless and colour-coded, with neat organisers stacked on shelves and a spot for everything. She had a calendar hung by her door, with every event, deadline and reminder neatly written in the tiny boxes. Zazzalil’s room was in a constant state of chaos, though she would argue it was controlled chaos, and she constantly forgot everything.

Sharing the same living space, they butted heads constantly. Jemilla was always bugging Zazz to do the dishes, clean the bathroom, tidy her room or do the laundry. Zazzalil was constantly complaining about Jemilla never letting her have any fun and trying to control her every action. Whenever Zazzalil wanted to do something fun and maybe a bit reckless or dangerous, Jemilla would be there to stop her, without fail. It was driving Zazz crazy.

***

“Zazzalil. Give me the lighter,” Jemilla said sternly, one hand on her hip and the other open and outstretched. She was looking down at Zazzalil, who was sitting on the floor of their bathroom.

Zazzalil muttered something incoherent under her breath and held onto her blue lighter a little tighter. The paper in her other hand burned up and fell to the floor, turning an ashy grey and disintegrating. Jemilla wrinkled her nose as the smoke blew into her face.

“You’re cleaning that up. Now hand over the lighter before you burn something important.”

“It’s just a little flame, it’s not gonna hurt anyone,” Zazzalil protested, absentmindedly flicking the lighter, watching the tiny flame spark and die.

Jemilla yelped. “Zazzalil! You’re gonna burn yourself! Stop!”

Zazzalil sighed dramatically and tossed the lighter on the floor. It slid across the tiles before slowing to a stop at Jemilla’s feet. She stooped to pick it up, tucking it away into her pocket.

“Thank you. Now clean up your mess.” She turned on her heel and left, leaving behind a pissed and grumpy Zazzalil.

Zazzalil swore under her breath before trudging downstairs to get a broom.

***

“Zazzalil, you can’t possibly think this is a good idea!” Jemilla cried, holding the car keys above her head.

“I happen to think this is a fantastic idea, thank you very much!” Zazzalil replied indignantly. She jumped up to grab her keys, but Jemilla kept them out of her reach.

“It’s two in the morning, it’s the middle of winter, it’s pouring rain and you want to go for a drive?”

“Yes! Now give me my keys!” Zazzalil said, trying once again to grab her keys from Jemilla’s grasp.

“Your car’s air conditioner is broken! Your phone is out of charge! You don’t even have a jacket on!” Jemilla insisted, and Zazzalil let her arm fall.

“Ok, so it’s probably not the best idea,” she said slowly. Jemilla smirked, but Zazzalil continued, “But, you’re not my mother, so you can’t really stop me.” With that she jumped again, this time managing to snatch the keys from Jemilla’s hand and make a mad dash for the door.

“Zazzalil!” Jemilla cried, chasing after her immediately. She grabbed her arm just before the door and pulled her to a stop. Zazzalil glared at her. “Please don’t go out there. You could get sick, get lost, get into trouble, freeze to death, or something. I know we don’t get along, but I still don’t want you to get hurt. Please give me your keys and go back to bed."  

Zazzalil looked out the door at the pouring rain, then down at her clothes. She was only wearing a t-shirt and running shorts. She sighed. “Okay, so maybe it was a bad idea.” She dropped her keys in Jemilla’s hand, who smiled thankfully, and dragged her feet up the stairs and to her room.

***

“Zazzalil, what are you doing?” Jemilla asked, peering around the doorway.

“Uh,” said Zazzalil, standing at the front door, about to leave, “I was going to go watch a movie with Keeri and Emberly?”

Jemilla sighed and shook her head. “You have two assignments due in two days, and you’re busy tomorrow night.”

Zazzalil froze. “Fuck, I forgot about that. Uh, I’m sure it’ll be fine now I’m just gonna-”

Jemilla grabbed Zazzalil’s arm, pulled her away from the door, took her keys and then shut the door in one swift movement. “No. No way in hell. You go upstairs, get your laptop and work on these assignments. You tell Keeri and Emberly that you can’t make it or I will.”

Zazzalil sighed. “Okay. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Can you call Keeri? If I do, she’ll beg me to come anyway and I will give in.” She laughed sheepishly, and it was a mark of the progress they’d made that Jemilla didn’t scold her.

Instead, she laughed fondly. “Of course. Now get a move on!”

***

“Zazzalil, you can’t afford that.”

“Yes I damn well can,” Zazzalil pouted, twirling the delicate necklace around on her finger. It was a gold chain, with an orange gemstone pendant shaped like a flame hanging off the end of it. The oranges and reds in the translucent mineral seemed to dance, and Zazzalil had fallen in love with it. However, the price tag was much more than she could afford.

Jemilla sighed. “It’s too much. You haven’t saved up at all. You need food, you’re going out to watch a movie again this weekend with Keeri and Tiblyn and there are three birthdays this month that you’ll need to buy presents for.”

Zazzalil frowned, suddenly remembering the pitiful amount of money in her bank account. “Dang it. I’m gonna be so broke. Why is it that you always think shit through and I don’t?”

Shrugging, Jemilla explained, “I spend too much time over-analysing ever decision I make. It’s sometimes useful, but also really tiring. I wish I could be spontaneous sometimes, but I can’t. You can, though.”

Zazzalil thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. At least I have you to stop me from making terrible decisions all the time. Well, I’m going to trust your judgement, as usual, and say goodbye to this beautiful piece of jewellery that I will probably never see again nor ever be able to afford.” Dramatically, she laid the necklace back where it was before, pretending to wipe a tear from her cheek.

Laughing, Jemilla grabbed her wrist and tugged her away from the display. “Stop being such a drama queen and hurry up! We need to go meet the others!”

***

“Zazz, don’t you dare.”

Zazzalil frowned, dropping her phone back onto the table as Jemilla walked into the room with a blanket and sat next to her on the couch. She immediately curled up into her side, letting her head rest on Jemilla’s shoulder as she settled the blanket over their legs.

“I’m really pissed,” she said, toying with the edge of her shirt, “Emberly and Grant really did that.”

Jemilla slung an arm over Zazzalil’s shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. “I agree that it was shitty for them to ditch you, but it’s not a good idea to text or call when you’re still angry.”

Zazzalil sighed. “I know. But it annoys me that I’m all upset and they’re probably making googly eyes at each other while they laugh and have fun. Like, do they care?” She let her head fall back onto the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the prickling of tears in her eyes.

“You can talk to them tomorrow. You have time to decide what to say, and how to say it. They probably didn’t realise it upset you this much,” Jemilla said, yawning and resting her head on top of Zazzalil’s.

“I guess you’re right. If you’re tired, you can go to bed. I’ll be fine,” Zazzalil said, moving to get up.

Jemilla tightened her arm around Zazz’s shoulders, pulling her closer and effectively keeping her on the couch, tucked into Jemilla’s side. “Nah, it’s fine. Wanna watch a movie?”

***

“Zazz?”

“Yeah, Jemilla?” Zazzalil hummed, her forehead pressed to Jemilla’s, their faces inches apart.

“This is a bad idea,” Jemilla said, trying to sound confident, but her voice was a whisper and she didn’t sound so convinced herself.

“I don’t think it is,” Zazzalil whispered, and she couldn’t help but notice how Jemilla shivered at that.

Subconsciously, Zazzalil found herself leaning towards Jemilla, and was surprised to find that Jemilla had mirrored her movement. Her eyes fluttered shut and suddenly Jemilla’s lips were on hers and she couldn’t think anymore.

Every inch of her skin felt so alive, every touch electric, every part of her burning. She couldn’t hear or feel anything but Jemilla. Jemilla’s hands on her hips, Jemilla’s hair brushing her cheek, Jemilla’s skin under her own hands, Jemilla’s lips on hers. Jemilla Jemilla Jemilla. The smell of Jemilla's shampoo. The sound of Jemilla's breathing. The taste of Jemilla's lips. Everything else ceased to exist. There was only Jemilla. Jemilla and Zazzalil. Her heart pounding in her chest, her hands clenching Jemilla's shirt, her legs trembling beneath her, her heavy, gasping breath. Her lips on Jemilla’s. Jemilla Jemilla Jemilla. Zazzalil was fully content to stay like this forever, to get lost in Jemilla and never leave, to drown in Jemilla and never see the surface again.

They pulled apart after a while, both unsure what to say.

“I take it back,” Jemilla whispered after a moment. Zazzalil raised her eyebrows, worried that Jemilla didn’t mean to kiss her, but Jemilla smiled down at her. “It wasn’t a bad idea after all.”

Zazzalil’s heart leapt, and she surged up to meet Jemilla’s lips again.