Work Text:
Tonight feels different, somehow.
Maybe it’s the clear skies, with barely a cloud in sight. Maybe it’s the way the cool evening air seemed so still, with only the slightest breeze blowing. Maybe it’s the lights of the city below, still bustling with life - and yet, up here, Four felt so free from it all.
They do this every Friday; it was her idea, something she started when she arrived in Inkopolis and only became more important to her when Eight moved in. No matter how busy she gets, she always makes time for this. It’s a beautiful view, and she never tires of Eight’s bright smile, even though she’s seen this sight a hundred times before. And Four’s seen the stars even more than that, but with Eight, it feels special.
Maybe it’s the same every time, but it's a comfortable repetition. It’s routine. It could probably be called a tradition at this point; if she didn’t think so, Eight certainly would.
But tonight feels different.
Maybe it’s the way Eight seems a little nervous, avoiding Four’s eyes and clutching her hands in her lap. Maybe it’s the fact that Eight has her tentacles tied up - something she rarely does, even though Four really wishes she did it more. Maybe it’s the way her smile seems ever so slightly crooked, in a way that pierces straight through Four’s defenses like a Sting Ray aimed straight at her hearts.
And maybe she’d rather look at Eight than the stars on most nights, but it’s okay just being with her. It’s the sort of sappy romantic scenario everyone pines for, stargazing with a significant other.
Except Eight’s not her girlfriend. And she probably doesn’t think it’s romantic. And tonight, the sky twinkles so fiercely that it almost seems like the stars are closer to Earth, so if she did spend a little bit more time than usual staring at her roommate, that’d be weird. Eight would definitely think that was weird. So she is not thinking about anything romantic, not in the slightest. Not at all.
“It’s a nice night, huh?” she says, a little more awkwardly than she’d hoped. “Check it out. I think that’s Ursa Major up there.”
It takes a while before Eight responds, and when she does, she sounds unsure, almost. “Oh… it is? You know a lot more about constellations than I do. I just think that the stars are pretty.”
“Ah, well, I only know a few. It’s really not that big a deal.” Four rubs the back of her neck sheepishly, flinching slightly at how cold her hand is. “You don’t gotta know about constellations to appreciate a view like this, anyhow.”
“I suppose you are right. And I… like hearing you explain them to me.” Eight’s voice quietens as she stares at her own feet, and there’s that smile again.
“Ah, uh. Right. I guess I do talk a lot, so that’s… good, that you enjoy hearing that.” Four clears her throat, eyes darting to the side. Her face getting warmer isn’t exactly unwelcome right now, but she feels like if she thought too hard about those words, she might entirely combust. Eight does that to her too much.
It’s unfair - she doesn’t know how to make it stop. She doesn’t even know how to get back at Eight for it, because the thought of consciously flirting with her makes her brain turn to mush. Whenever she visualises herself leaning on a countertop or something like that and saying a really suave line, the Eight in her head says something even more suave and then she loses her balance and falls over.
The Eight in real life is currently doing the opposite, and Four can’t tell if it’s because she’s uncomfortable or embarrassed. And honestly, when Four does see her like this, she wonders why she ever thinks about her saying things like ‘hey angel, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’ because… there’s no way Eight would say that. Not about her, certainly.
What she does say is, in a voice far more solemn and contemplative than Four expected, “You know… it has been almost a whole year since I have come to the surface. I am thinking, maybe, of doing something… special, to celebrate it. It is a… how do I say it, a celebration of a certain amount of time passing?”
“An anniversary?”
“Yes, that is the word. Sorry… by now I should know Inklish far better than this, but still there are words I do not understand.”
“Hey, don’t apologize. You learned really fast.” Four gives her a reassuring smile, although she’s unsure if Eight can really see it. She’s looking rather intently up at the sky, reflections of stars twinkling in her eyes. “Do you have any idea what you wanna do?”
“I am not sure. A party is the most obvious option, I think, but I do not know whether I want that.” Eight brings a hand to her chin. “I am… not sure whether I want it to be something very big, or something small and quiet.”
“Well… it doesn’t have to be some big, bombastic celebration. Not if you don’t want it to be. Heck, you could spend the whole day inside watching TV if you wanted.”
“Maybe that is what you would do,” Eight says, giggling. Four makes a noise of indignity - that’s blatant mischaracterisation! But it’s Eight, and that laugh is tying knots in her stomach, so she’ll let her get away with it. “There are a lot of other options than just a big party. I know Pearl and Marina would be okay hosting one, but I think it would feel… selfish, to ask them for something like that.”
Well, that gives Four an idea. Maybe she’ll get them to organize a surprise party for Eight, unless she does settle on something else. “You could… go camping, maybe? I hear Mount Nantai’s got a pretty great view of the sunset around that time of year.”
Eight’s face lights up. “That is a great idea! A very smart idea. I have always wanted to go camping. We could sit around a fire and tell funny stories!”
“Usually it’s scary stories that get told around a campfire,” she says, smirking. “Real ghost stories. In the dead of night. Out in the wilderness, where nobody can come to save you…”
“I do not think a ghost story from you would be very scary, Four,” Eight deadpans.
“That– hey, wow, that’s kinda rude, actually. What the heck? Is it ‘cause I’m short?!”
“No, it is because you are very soft and squishy,” Eight says, laughing under her breath. “Nobody who is that soft and squishy can possibly be intimidating or scary when telling a ghost story. It is just how it is.”
“I’m–” Soft and squishy, apparently. She pokes her (now very yellow) cheeks only to confirm that… well, Eight’s not entirely wrong. And that her hands are still very cold. “Is that… a compliment??”
“Hmm… it could be.” Eight falls again, but there’s a smile on her face. And it’s hard to tell in the dark, but there’s almost a hint of magenta in her cheeks, which… can’t be anything like that, at all. She shouldn’t get her hopes up.
The idea still bounces around in her head, moreso as she finds herself with no meaningful way to continue the conversation. She finds solace in looking at the stars, but Eight’s always in her peripheral, a constant presence keeping her from veering straight off the rails into hopelessly pining again.
Until Eight finally speaks up again. “That… would also make it almost the anniversary of when I met you, you know.”
Four stops in her tracks, turning to look at Eight again. She’s playing with the hem of her sweater, a wistful smile on her face. “Ah. I’m, uh… surprised you’re keeping track, honestly.”
“It is because it is important to me,” she says. “Because… you are important to me.”
Four’s mouth snaps shut, if only to make it less obvious the way her breath catches in her throat. She stays silent, just waiting for Eight to continue, waiting for the inevitable moment where she tells her how great a friend she is, and her hopes are all dashed to the rocks.
“I… I would like to ask if you want to do anything special on that day. Just the two of us.”
Just the two of them. In a friendly way, right? Roommates being roommates. It’s totally a best friend thing, or a roommate thing, or maybe even just a pity thing. Maybe Eight doesn’t realise what she’s doing to her, asking a question like this. But she looks and sounds so earnest, and she’s still trying not to look Four in the eyes - maybe she does know, and she’s just afraid of the way she’ll react.
“I’d really like to– I mean, yeah, I’d love to do something together,” she stutters. “I mean, we do stuff together all the time, but… it’ll be special, like you said. Special and cool roommate hangout stuff, y’know?”
“Roommates. Yes. Um…” Eight looks down at her hands again, and it’s impossible to ignore it now. Against the darkness, Eight’s face is practically luminous. “I am… not very sure how to word this properly. I have been thinking about how to ask for… quite some time now.”
“Ask what?” Four asks, rather helplessly. She knows it can’t be that kind of question. It’s obvious.
“Lately, I am feeling a lot of… um, strange feelings when I am around you, Four. I talked to Pearl and Marina, and… I think I understand now. But I am not really sure how to say it. I-I think… I would like it if we were… more than friends.”
Four stares at her. She stares for what feels like hours, her face more yellow than a hi-vis jacket. More than friends. The words repeat in her head. More than friends. She can’t deny her way out of this one. She doesn’t want to deny her way out of this one, but still - does she deserve this? Does she really deserve her?
“Four– are you okay?” she asks, waving a hand in front of her face. “Four. I… oh, no. I am sorry. I did not mean to– to make things awkward. If you are not comfortable with it, that is fine, I can just–”
Four doesn’t give her the chance to finish that sentence. Her body moves on its own, carried by a wave of euphoria, of sudden confidence and reckless abandon. All that self-deprecation, the questioning, everything her stupid, anxious brain won’t ever let her forget - it can wait.
So she leans in close, and kisses her.
She’s never kissed anyone before. She’s kissed her parents on the cheek, been kissed on the cheek (also by her parents), but never mouth-to-mouth. Not like it is in movies and books. She doesn’t know what in the world she’s doing - she’s just following whatever her hearts say.
She understands now. Before, when all she had to work around was depictions, when she was just an outsider watching people smooch on a TV screen, she didn’t get the hype. All that changes in an instant; she feels electrified, like she’s floating, and she doesn’t want to come down.
But she has to, eventually. It only lasts for a few seconds before she pulls away, and it feels like her face might actually melt. Now, it’s Eight’s turn to look stunned; and in the spur of the moment, finally being the more collected one, she smirks.
“D-does that answer your question?”
Eight blinks. She stares. For a moment, Four thinks she might have broken her. Then, she’s pulled into a tight hug that takes her by surprise, and oh, Eight is really warm, and the sweater she’s wearing is so soft that it feels like she’s being wrapped in a big blanket, and she smells really good, and she can feel Eight’s hearts beating, and the stars are shining down on them–
And it’s perfect. It really is.
“Yes,” Eight says, her voice soft and wobbling with barely contained emotion. “It does. I am… so, so glad, Four.”
“Hah… how’d you think I feel?” She buries her face into Eight’s shoulder, nuzzling against her. “I… um. I’ve liked you for… m-months, now. So. Yeah. I’m… really happy.”
“I… ah, kind of guessed,” Eight says, laughing under her breath. “It is very easy to make you flustered. It’s… very cute.”
“C-cute?!” she squeaks, which only prompts Eight to laugh harder.
“Just like that! See?”
She grumbles, her grip on Eight tightening ever so slightly. “Well… m-maybe I think you’re cute, too. What are you gonna do about that?”
“Um… I think I would… probably ask you to tell me it again,” Eight says.
“Fine.” She takes a deep breath. “You’re cute. Super adorable. Really pretty, too. I think you’ve got a great smile and a really nice laugh, a-and also, you smell nice.”
Eight goes silent - and sadly, Four can’t see what her face looks like from here, so she pulls back ever so slightly to stare her in the face, and… uh. Wow. Their faces are very close again. And Eight has a giant goofy smile, and she looks Four in the eyes, and then leans in and gives her a quick peck on the lips. The noise Four makes in response is slightly embarrassing, but at least it gets Eight to start laughing again, so it’s all okay.
And she’s smiling so wide Four’s almost worried her face might split open. And behind her, the stars shimmer like LED lights, framing her in an almost ethereal light, like she’s literally glowing.
“You are wonderful,” she says, pulling her closer. “Wonderful, amazing, beautiful. I am so grateful to have met you.”
Every word makes her hearts ache. She feels as if she might cry, but at least it’d be for a good reason. And maybe it’s too early to say it - the word feels heavy in her throat, but she says it anyway, because it is really, truly, what she feels.
“...I love you. So much.”
She feels Eight’s hearts quicken, hears her breath waver - then she holds her tight, nuzzling her face into the crook of Four’s neck.
“I love you too, Four.” Eight says, and it’s sweeter than any time she could have heard it in her mind. She doesn’t want this moment to end, even if she knows it has to eventually.
So she closes her eyes, and she lets the warmth cradle her.