moment in time

by lychee_cha

Summary:

Rachel waves as she steps away and turns, back to the party and back to where Nick is waiting, barely able to gather her wandering thoughts, wondering how she will get through the next few weeks dealing with this feeling that has suddenly dredged up, this feeling that she has not felt for years.

OR

Rachel accompanies her best friend to deal with his family in Singapore, and the last thing she expects is to fall for his cousin.

Notes:

• For asianellen.

firstly, i want to say that i drew inspiration from a multitude of fics on here to write this, namely from atlantisairlock and Ashling... so there may be some overlapping ideas, please feel free to point them out.

secondly, this fic is for asianellen, for being so incredibly sweet and supportive all the time even when i'm my usual sleep-deprived, cra-deprived state i love you so much😭 thank you for being my delulu buddy always and i hope to see one of your fics soon ;) i have no idea what you're gonna think about this giant mess of a self-indulgent fic but THANK YOU.

this miiight have been a little bit rushed (okay a lot rushed) cause i started it in august and had it written in dribs and drabs, maybe 2 or 3 paragraphs for each scene? then for some reason i decided to write the rest of it in one sitting last night… i just love aschel so so much and what better way to start the new year. so here i am. hope you enjoy!

In this universe, when Nick Young introduces Rachel Chu to his Ah Ma as his friend, it’s because that’s what they really are: friends.

“Please come with me, please,” Nick had begged that night at Tea & Sympathy, when he first brought up spending summer break with him in Singapore. “ I’ll cover all expenses, don’t worry about that. Just… please come. I need your support.”

And Rachel, like the people-pleaser she is (and also because Nick is her fellow NYU professor as well as best friend of two years and counting, and she owes him more than a couple favors that have collected over the two years), had agreed.

Nick’s rationale had been that he hasn’t been back to Singapore for almost two years, now, and he won’t be able to deal with his family alone, not the inevitable torrent of enquiries about his relationships and his plans for the future.

Rachel hadn’t thought much of it before the trip. Not when they get in the first class cabin and a flight attendant comes up with her favorite cocktail (“I knew you were well-off, but not this loaded… damn, rich boy!”), not when Nick’s best friend Colin and his soon-to-be wife Araminta greet them at the airport (they are so normal it surprises her, especially when Araminta shows up wearing what appears to be pajamas and hands her a gigantic bunch of balloons and her excitement is really quite contagious and the food, wow, Rachel doesn’t think she’s ever had a better satay ), not even when Peik Lin drops her off at the most spectacular mansion she has ever laid eyes on (“This is not what I was expecting when you said you grew up at your grandma’s house, Nicholas”).

Until now.

 

They’ve been here for barely thirty minutes and already Rachel has been on the receiving end of more than her fair share of disapproving, disparaging looks, whispers behind cupped hands that are so clearly about her, they don’t even try to hide it, and also–

“Why does everyone think I’m your girlfriend?” Rachel whispers to Nick as they walk past dozens of impeccably dressed, bejewled guests - damn, this really isn’t her crowd.

Nick sighs. “I don’t know, I– I guess, well, I haven’t brought a girl home in years, so they thought–”

“So I’m your fake girlfriend now?” Rachel’s eyes narrow.

“No! No, I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to, Rach. You know that. It’s just… I know these people, okay? I’ve grown up with them, and I know they’ll jump to conclusions and assume whatever they want to. You saw how they didn’t even believe me when I told them the truth. Look, I’m sorry… I’ll make it up to you when we get back, I promise.”

“Fine.” Rachel softens, because it really isn’t Nick’s fault, the way his family is. “You can buy me lunch for the next month.”

“Fine,” Nick mimics, his tone teasing, but she can see the relief behind his mischievous expression. “Lunch for one month it is.”

Nick leads her into the expansive “living room”, that really more resembles a glamorous club in Shanghai, and towards a girl who looks vaguely familiar from the back. “Astrid!” he calls out.

The girl turns, and Rachel is struck by a memory so vivid she can almost relive it right here right now.

A lazy Saturday night, a knock on the door. A woman’s voice - “Surprise, Nicky!”, and Nick’s delighted reply: “Astrid! What are you doing here?” Coffee brown eyes, the most gorgeous face Rachel has ever seen. A warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rachel.”

“Astrid’s been married for almost four years now,” Nick’s explanation, later. A heart sinking. Disappointment. She’s so damn pretty. “All the good ones are taken, aren’t they?”

“I don’t– That’s not what–”

Raised eyebrows, a knowing grin. There’s no point in arguing.

She feels much of the same awe and enchantment when she catches sight of Astrid the second time, over a year later, this time wearing a baby blue cocktail dress that can only be described as perfect .

“Nicky!” Astrid’s perfect features melt into a smile, and Rachel watches, transfixed, as the two cousins hug.

Astrid turns, and before Rachel can fully comprehend what’s happening there is a blur of long silky hair and jasmine-scented perfume and Astrid’s arms are wrapped around her.

(It’s only for a fleeting second, but the mark it leaves on Rachel’s heart is everlasting.)

Astrid says I’m so glad you could make it and sounds like she means it, and Rachel plays it cool, replying with “Astrid, so good to see a face I know” when inside her heart is thud-thudding and she has to work to keep her breath even.

Astrid introduces her husband Michael and sure, he seems okay, but Rachel is focusing on trying hard to fight the jealousy that feels so wrong, that threatens to consume her nonetheless.

They stand chatting for a while, making small talk, before Nick and Michael go over to a corner and she is left alone with Astrid.

“So, how have you been finding Singapore so far? Having a good time?” Astrid asks, and the way she gazes at Rachel makes her feel seen .

“A great time! It’s… nice,” Rachel answers, helplessly. “Hot, definitely. A little overwhelming, I guess?”

Astrid smiles like she understands, a knowing glint in her eye. “I can only imagine.”

A beat. Then - “Sorry, do you know what time it is?”

Rachel checks her phone, which is in her pocket, because fortunately her dress has pockets. She has never been so grateful. “It’s just past nine p.m.”

“I have to go get my son,” Astrid says apologetically. “Would you mind coming with me?”

“Oh,” Rachel says in surprise, at the fact that Astrid thought she had to ask. Of course she doesn’t mind. How could she ever? “No, I mean– I don’t mind… yeah, I’ll come.”

“Great,” Astrid grins, then leads Rachel towards a spiraling staircase. “He’s just upstairs, in the playroom. It’s much past his bedtime, you see.”

 

When they reach the top of the stairs Astrid makes a turn down the corridor and opens the second door from the right. They step inside.

Astrid smiles graciously at the smiling young maid, thanks her quietly for looking after her son, and makes a beeline for the four children currently occupying the large playroom.

“That’s Constantine, Eddie’s oldest,” she explains to Rachel, gesturing to a tall boy, probably around ten years old, throwing toy darts at a dartboard in a corner. “Those two are Kalliste and Augustine, also Eddie’s.” The girl and boy sitting on the floor playing with a smaller boy look up and wave at Astrid. “And this is Cassian.”

Astrid’s three-year-old son is adorable, having inherited his mother’s delicate features except for his eyes, which are unmistakably his father’s. Astrid says hi to the other children before picking Cassian up in one swift movement from where he has been playing with Kalliste and Augustine. “Cassian, this is Auntie Rachel. Say hello to Auntie Rachel?”

The child stares at Rachel shyly for a moment, before lifting his little fingers in a wave. Rachel can’t help but smile. “Hi, Cassian. It’s nice to meet you.”

Cassian stares at Rachel a little longer, before burying his head in his mother’s shoulder.

Astrid chuckles softly, balancing the child carefully on her hip. “I think it’s straight to bed for this big boy. Say goodnight to everyone, Cassian.”

“Bye, Cassian,” Kalliste and Augustine chime in together, and Constantine also says his goodbyes. “Good night, Auntie Astrid.”

Astrid waves, then closes the door of the playroom behind them. “Well, I think I better put Cassian to bed.”

“Choco-cake,” Astrid’s son mutters.

Astrid raises her eyebrows. “You already had your dessert, Cassian. It’s time to sleep now.”

(Rachel can’t help but marvel at the way Astrid acts with her son, firm yet gentle, and Rachel can so clearly see the love she has for him.)

Cassian nods sleepily against Astrid’s shoulder, and Rachel thinks that she has never seen a three-year-old with a milder temper. He must take after his mom. She speaks up. “Does Cassian have his own room here?”

“Oh, yes. He does. Sometimes when the parties run late we let him sleep for a while, and we either take him home or stay the night depending on the time.”

Rachel smiles, realizing only now how much she loves hearing Astrid talk. “Well, good night, Astrid.”

“Night, Rachel. Good luck with… the rest of our family.”

Rachel waves as she steps away and turns, back to the party and back to where Nick is waiting, barely able to gather her wandering thoughts, wondering how she will get through the next few weeks dealing with this feeling that has suddenly dredged up, this feeling that she has not felt for years.

 

She doesn’t see Astrid for the rest of the night. Maybe it’s better this way.

 

Araminta’s bachelorette party is the next day, and Rachel tricks herself into thinking it might actually be fun, believes with all the naïvety she can muster that it might be okay. 

It’s not.

 

Rachel is so done.

Amanda has been giving her shit for the entire spa session, spewing tales about Nick Young and his family and his business and his billions.

And the worst part is, she’s not even dating him.

She shoots up from the bed and strides away from the cabana, all the while cursing Nick for his lack of preparations. She wouldn’t even have come to the bachelorette party if it wasn’t for him. 

He owes me one, she seethes inside, and is so caught up in her anger that she doesn’t notice there’s someone in front of her until she walks right into them.

“Rachel?”

She looks up. “Sorr-” The apology dies on her lips as her breath is taken away.

It’s Astrid, in a deceptively simple sleeveless blue dress that accentuates her slim figure, clutching a white bag with a matching white hat atop her head. She removes her sunglasses, revealing the alluring, open face that has already become so achingly familiar to Rachel.

“Let me guess. Amanda?”

Rachel lets out a sigh. “It’s a long story. Let’s go to my suite.”

 

“And the thing is, she just wouldn’t stop. It was like she was expecting me to get jealous. Why the hell would I care about her past with Nick if it was years–”

Rachel stops in her tracks.

A huge, gutted fish greets her from the bed, its insides having spilled out all over the white sheets. Violently scrawled on the window behind it in blood-red block letters are the words “ CATCH THIS, YOU GOLD-DIGGING BITCH! ”

The girls stand stunned into silence for a moment, neither of them saying anything. Rachel feels a chill run down her spine. She knew that these crazy rich Singaporean girls could be… well, crazy, but she never expected this .

Astrid speaks up. “I’ll call security,” she says, and Rachel can hear the concern in her voice. Even now it fills her with a strange warmth.

“No.”

Her own voice sounds unfamiliar to her ears, the raw determination and stubbornness seeping through surprising her in a way that it shouldn’t. 

“I’m not gonna make a scene.” Rachel decides, with a note of finality. “I’m not gonna give them the satisfaction.”

For some reason, she feels hot tears blurring her vision all of a sudden. She’s hurt , when she shouldn’t be; she knows the rumors the other girls are spreading are only that - rumors, baseless and mostly untrue. But she’s hurt that someone would hate her enough to do this, to violate her privacy and her safety and she shouldn’t care but oh, it stirs up fears that she’d thought were long-buried and vanquished, fears of never being good enough and not measuring up or belonging anywhere and she cares, of course she does.

“Then I’ll stay,” Astrid says softly, pretending not to see her tears. Rachel has never felt so grateful for her. The hurt in her chest lessens ever so slightly.

“I’ll call one of the maids now for some towels and cleaning supplies,” Astrid continues. “No arguments. I know you want to stand your ground, but you’ll feel much better once your room is cleaned and fish-free.”

“Can we at least bury the fish?”

Astrid laughs quietly. Rachel focuses on the sound and finds that she is able to breathe normally again. “Of course we can.”

 

Later, when the rest of the bachelorettes are partying on the beach, Rachel and Astrid stand further away, digging a hole in the sand for the fish.

“This weekend was supposed to be mani-pedis, cocktails served in pineapples. This definitely wasn’t on the menu,” Rachel huffs, dumping the fish into the hole unceremoniously. “Why would Araminta even have friends like that? They’re so… mean.”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Astrid heft another pile of sand on top of the now half-buried fish. “Well, you grow up your whole lives together, you end up making excuses for people. Specially the morons.”

Rachel pauses, watching the other girl for a moment. Astrid has changed into a striped shirt and a pair of slim-fitting white capri pants that somehow make her look drop-dead gorgeous despite how casual the outfit is, and she seems to be working even harder than Rachel at the task at hand. 

Perhaps that is what makes her tongue loosen. What makes her want to ask for advice, not necessarily for her, but for a girl dating Nick in another universe, a girl who has been picked apart again and again for no other reason than the fact that she wasn’t born into money like everyone else in these circles.

“I mean, I know Michael didn’t have to deal with catty, fish-killing sociopaths, but how did you two get through all this?”

She doesn’t notice, at first, the way Astrid tenses almost imperceptibly. 

Astrid stops, the shovel sticking into the ground, momentarily forgotten. She straightens up and takes a few steps back, before sinking down onto the sand.

“Well, I didn’t have it quite as bad, but it wasn’t pretty.”

Her words are carefully chosen, her voice deliberately light and level. Rachel continues filling the hole with sand, frowning slightly, wondering if she is imagining Astrid’s guard having gone up.

“At least tell me it gets better.”

“Of course it does,” Astrid assures her, a beat too late.

Rachel turns.

Shit. The moment she sees the other girl’s face she knows she has said the wrong thing.

“You okay?” she asks, hoping that her voice isn’t shaking, worrying that she is imposing or, well, not imposing enough.

The corners of Astrid’s mouth tilt upwards in a funny sort of half-smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah.”

Bullshit. Astrid might be good at many things, but acting is not one of them. Rachel can read her like an open book. Or perhaps it’s her who’s become more literate since coming to Singapore.

Astrid’s gaze flits downwards, her head turning slightly to face straight ahead, away from Rachel. 

She won’t meet my eyes.

Rachel feels the need to drop her own shovel, moving to plop down next to Astrid. She doesn’t say anything, just sits there, waiting for the other girl to open up.

She does.

“Actually…” The word is accompanied by a soft yet heavy exhale. “No.”

Rachel shuffles closer to her. All she can hear is the sound of crickets chirping and the now faint DJ music of the party a few feet away from them. 

“You could talk to me,” she says, letting the words hang in the air for a moment.

Finally Astrid breathes out a sigh. “Michael is… having an affair.”

The words hit Rachel like a blow, almost as if she is the one having been cheated on, the sound of nothing roaring in her ears. There’s a million things she wants to say. They start with “Who in their right mind would cheat on you ?” and end with “I’m gonna kill that fucker.”

But she doesn’t. 

Instead, all that comes out of her mouth is “I’m really sorry, Astrid."

It’s not enough. She knows that. And she is thinking of ways to repay the older girl for her kindness and her quiet strength and just her presence in general when Astrid moves closer and leans her head on her shoulder.

And suddenly Rachel can’t think at all.

She tries very, very hard not to breathe, lest she ruin this quiet, sacred moment. 

The weight of Astrid’s head on her shoulder is oddly comforting, in a way.

Astrid is a head taller than her, and she has to fold into herself to rest her head against Rachel’s shoulder, like a child seeking comfort, and Rachel wants nothing more than to offer her protection in this moment.

Astrid reaches for Rachel’s hand, finding it and squeezing it gently, though Rachel can feel the desperation radiating off her in waves, the pain she must have been hiding for quite some time already. 

A wave of immense gratitude and guilt washes over her as she realizes that Astrid has been there for her while shouldering her own pain. She wonders, again, how the hell she will repay her for this.

But for now she just holds Astrid’s hand in hers, squeezing back in a way that she hopes is reassuring. They stay there for a long, long time, watching the star-studded sky above them and listening to the soft swish-swish of waves lapping against the shore.

 

She finds a way to repay her, it turns out. It happens sooner than she expects.

 

Time passes faster than she anticipated in Singapore, what with days filled with dumpling making with Nick’s family and meeting up with her old college roommate Peik Lin (who also insists on giving her a makeover before the wedding, assisted by one of Nick’s other cousins Oliver), and before she knows it the day of Colin and Araminta’s wedding has arrived.

Peik Lin has dressed her in a pale blue floral and tulle Marchesa gown that feels like silk on her skin and she feels pretty damn amazing. She feels like someone else entirely, someone who exists to please herself and doesn’t give a damn about what others think, and as they step out of the car and Oliver announces “Everyone, I’ve got Rachel Chu of New York” and the photographers snap away, she allows herself to imagine for one fleeting moment how her life would’ve been if she had been born into one of these families, if she belonged here.

Too soon she’s at the door and barely holding in her cackles at Amanda’s shocked face when she greets the other girl with a “You’re in my way” and the fantasy dissipates, but for now she realizes that she is content to be where she is, as herself.

 

The ceremony is beautiful.

Nick’s mother and aunts are their usual snoshy selves and tell Rachel their row is full (although Alix does compliment her dress as they pass by). In another universe Rachel would’ve cared too much, would’ve let the aunties’ coolness and indifference get to her, but in this one, she holds her head high - what does it matter to her what Nick’s relatives think? She’ll be leaving in a week anyways, hopefully never to see any of them again.

Her throat closes up when she thinks of Astrid, however, the prospect of going so long without seeing Astrid again sending a chill of dread and despair through her bones.

To distract herself, she heads over to a woman she spots sitting alone in one of the front pews in the hopes of finding a seat. As she gets closer, Rachel realizes that she recognizes the woman - it’s Princess Intan, the author of that article about microloans in the Asian Economics Journal she loved.

Princess Intan seems just as snooty as the rest at first, meeting Rachel’s introduction with stony silence. Unexpected, but not unsurprising. Undeterred, Rachel continues on, praising the article and talking about how the critics missed the point of it, and to her surprise and relief Princess Intan breaks into a smile, seemingly reassessing her. “What is your name again?”

“Rachel Chu.”

Before they can start a proper conversation, an excited buzz ripples through the crowd. Rachel cranes her neck to see what the excitement is about, and when she does, her breath catches. 

It’s Astrid, resplendent in a gorgeous hot pink dress with a jeweled neckline, and it’s simple and beautiful and so her. She’s leading her Ah Ma down the aisle, everyone’s eyes fixed on the two of them. There are murmurs from beside Rachel, in front of her, behind her, and she doesn’t even realize she’s staring until the stunning grandmother-granddaughter pair have reached where she is standing and Astrid holds out a hand towards her. Rachel takes it and squeezes.

It’s only then that she notices Astrid is holding herself differently, today, poised as always, but there is something tense and shaky about her stance, fragile, like all it will take is one touch for her to crumple to the floor. Rachel frowns, sending a telepathic message to the other girl. Are you okay?

Astrid nods, smiling a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, and acts to pull her hand away from Rachel’s jokingly.

Rachel lets go, reluctantly, but only because a guitar is starting to play and she knows the ceremony is about to start.

And as Araminta floats down the aisle looking absolutely ethereal, Colin’s eyes wet with unshed tears, Rachel holds her little butterfly light on the long stem and allows herself to be swept up in the magic that is true love.

Colin lifts Araminta’s veil for the kiss and their lips meet, finally, and the whole church erupts into claps and cheers.

 

Afterwards, the party hangs around the courtyard, mingling and making small talk. Rachel feels utterly out of place as she awkwardly converses with distant cousins and aunties and uncles that she cannot for the life of her remember the names of, all the while desperately searching the crowd for any sign of Nick or Oliver.

Her gaze lands on Astrid instead, where she seems to be caught up in a rather uncomfortable conversation, if her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes keep flitting away from the people she’s speaking to are any indication.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure about my opinion on-”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Astrid excuse herself, and the other girl is so obviously not okay that Rachel feels compelled to do the same and go after her. 

She silently follows Astrid down a long corridor, then down another smaller one, and finally into a secluded room that looks like it might’ve been a storage closet once upon a time, although the shelves of the tiny room are now bare.

It’s only then that she decides to make her presence known, tentatively:

“Astrid?”

Said girl turns, and Rachel catches sight of her face. Her eyes are red-rimmed, filled with tears that have clearly been suppressed for too long. Rachel’s heart clenches.

“ Shit. Shit, sorry, I’ll go–”

The happy chatter of the rowdy wedding entourage drifts down the hallway, coming closer and closer with every second.

Rachel panics, and in a burst of ill-advised impulse, she is shutting the door just as Araminta breaks into a fit of laughter that sounds mere meters away from them.

She turns to Astrid.

“Just… pretend I’m not here.”

“That’s not that easy,” Astrid chuckles, before dissolving into tears.

Rachel doesn’t know if she should step towards her or step away.

Astrid cries quietly, discreetly, the way she does everything else. Rachel stands there awkwardly for a few moments before deciding ‘ fuck it’ and moves over to try and comfort her. Rachel rubs circles into her back uncertainly and Astrid cries like she’s trying not to, like her heart is breaking and fragmenting into pieces.

“Do you want to… what happened?” she asks, stupidly, because it’s the only thing she knows how to do.

Astrid has her head buried in her hands, and her voice is muffled when she speaks. “I- it’s nothing,” her breath hitches, too fast. Rachel can hear the sob in her words. “It’s Michael, he- he’s missing Cassian’s birthday, he left, on the one weekend everyone would notice…”

This time Rachel can tell when a fresh wave of tears hits Astrid. Something in her own heart constricts. 

“Oh, Astrid,” her voice is soft, tentative.

“He’s leaving me, isn’t he.”

Astrid’s voice is bitter, resigned, quiet as if she can’t believe the words that are coming out of her mouth. And frankly, Rachel can’t either.

“Michael freaking sucks,” Rachel whispers, because it’s the only thing she can say, finally working up the courage to wrap her arms around Astrid. 

She can feel the other girl shaking, her body racked with sobs that she is so clearly trying to stop.

“I’m sorry,” Astrid keeps saying, even as her breath catches and tears continue to soak Rachel’s shirt, and this is what breaks Rachel’s heart.

“Don’t apologize,” Rachel murmurs, her own eyes pricking. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

She holds Astrid for at least another five minutes and wishes Michael Teo to go to hell.

 

“Are you feeling any better?” Rachel asks gently when Astrid’s tears have subsided, reduced to the occasional unsteady breath.

“Yes,” Astrid straightens up. “Yes, yeah, sorry, I don’t know what came over–”

“ Astrid ,” Rachel cuts in softly, and oh , she wishes she could memorize the feel of the other girl’s name falling from her lips.

She feels Astrid’s half-hearted attempt at an apologetic smile before she sees it.

“I’m sorry, that was ridiculous.” Astrid mumbles, brushing a hand quickly over her eyes. It doesn’t do much for her already tear-stained face, and Rachel has to bite back a small fond smile threatening to tug on her lips.

She can almost see Astrid inwardly berating herself to keep it together, and even though it makes her heart ache, she finds that she finds it endearing.

“Don’t be silly. No one expects you to be perfect… you don’t have to be so put together all the time.”

Astrid makes a small, unintelligible noise that sounds suspiciously disbelieving, and Rachel realizes with a pang that it’s not true. How could it be, when she is practically the It Girl of Singapore high society, scrutinising eyes zeroing in on her every move?

She searches for the right words, and when they come to her, she utters them quietly, like a secret shared between the two of them and the two of them only.

“You don’t have to be so put together in front of me. ”

And that, finally, is the truth.

Something fractures inside Astrid’s eyes, and before Rachel can grasp what’s happening the other girl’s gaze is suddenly too shiny again.

Panic floods her immediately. I caused that.

“Astrid, what’s wrong? I- I’m sorry, is it- is it something I said? I didn’t mean–”

“No, no,” Astrid laughs softly through her tears, sunshine after rain. The panic is replaced with sweet, sweet relief. “ Thank you. ”

They stand there in comfortable silence for a moment, before Astrid takes a deep breath and begins to collect her things from the little round table at the side of the room.

“I should go freshen up. You- you’re welcome to go. Thank you for staying with me.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Astrid lights up visibly, and it awakens something in Rachel’s heart, soft, affectionate, unbidden.

 

They both reapply makeup in the bathroom after, staring at each other’s reflections in the mirror, Rachel sitting on the countertop after Astrid finishes her own makeup and offers to do Rachel’s eyeliner for her because of course Astrid Leong is also an absolute whiz when it comes to makeup. 

Rachel tries to stay still as Astrid directs her to close her eyes, one cool hand cupping her face gently, and thinks that she will remember this moment forever.

 

When they walk back out to the courtyard Astrid gives her another jasmine-scented hug, though this time gentler and more real, like an unspoken sentence softly uttered between them.

Rachel wishes she could stay, but she can’t.

Astrid returns to her own life for the rest of the night, and Rachel returns to hers. She takes a deep breath and makes her way into the crowd to find Nick.

 

Later that night, after all the festivities are over and she doesn’t need a clock to tell her it’s way past two a.m., Rachel tosses and turns in bed, unable to fall asleep.

She could blame it on Tyersall Park still being unfamiliar to her - Nick’s grandma has finally extended an invitation for them to stay at the house - or the alcohol that may or may not still be coursing through her system, but she knows deep down the reason is crystal clear: she has feelings for Astrid.

Oh, but she can’t have feelings for Astrid ; she can’t fall for this beautiful, unattainable heiress, no matter how unfairly gorgeous or down-to-earth she is and–

That’s it. She’s going downstairs.

Rachel suppresses a yawn behind her hand - that’s the problem with being tired but not sleepy - before settling into a chair at the kitchen table.

Suddenly there’s a sound from behind her, and she is surprised to see the subject of her thoughts come down the stairs, hair swept up into a messy bun and clad in the most simple yet exquisite blue silk pajamas that Rachel’s ever seen. Her legs look impossibly long, her hair impossibly soft. She looks every inch the double heiress she is and yet completely at home. Rachel panics, wondering if the other girl can hear her thoughts, but convinces herself to relax when Astrid offers her a small, unguarded smile.

“What are you doing here?” she blurts, heart still pounding, then feels stupid. This is as much Astrid’s house as it is Nick’s, or Eleanor’s, or even Alistair’s.

Astrid, for her own part, doesn’t seem to mind. She pulls out a chair and takes the seat opposite Rachel. “Cassian and I decided to spend the night,” she says, a little regretfully, and suddenly the events of last night come flooding back to Rachel. Oh. Michael.

Astrid must catch the look on Rachel’s face, because she gives a slightly bitter chuckle. “Yeah. Figured I was just putting off the inevitable, though.” There’s a pause. “Enough about me. What are you doing here?” 

Rachel tilts her head to one side, not exactly sure what the other girl is asking.

Astrid bites her lip. Even that small action makes her look so attractive, and Rachel tries not to think about just how soft those lips might feel on hers. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right. I meant, what are you doing here ? In the middle of the night?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Rachel replies, playing with the edge of the tablecloth.

The lighting is dim, and Rachel can barely make out the expression on Astrid’s face. She can tell that it’s softened, though, less guarded compared to the one she had on during the wedding and all throughout the reception.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

The confession is honest, straightforward, and it catches Rachel off guard.

“Same,” she says, simply, and she can now recognize the question in Astrid’s eyes, but she knows the other girl won’t press.

They stay like that for a moment, sitting in comfortable silence. The house is quiet, save for its usual groaning and creaking noises, like an old man getting ready for bed.

After a while Astrid gets up. “I know what we need,” she smiles. “Hot chocolate.”

“I could help,” Rachel starts, but Astrid is already rummaging through the cupboards.

“Hmm. I know Ah Ma used to keep a packet of cocoa powder somewhere…” Astrid’s voice disappears into the pantry. “I used to be a terrible insomniac, you see, and she would always have it ready for– Aha! Found it,” Astrid emerges from the pantry, a triumphant grin on her face. Rachel thinks she looks positively radiant.

“That’s it?” Rachel asks, without meaning to. In Astrid’s hands is a single packet of cocoa powder. It looks delicious, all right, but didn’t she say they were making hot chocolate?

“Ah,” Astrid wiggles her eyebrows, shaking the packet in front of Rachel. “But this is where the magic happens. Watch and see.”

Rachel blinks, and Astrid is already heating up a saucepan, opening the packet of cocoa powder. She pours in milk, cocoa powder, and sugar, before stirring the mixture over the stove.She looks over at Rachel. “Wanna try?”

Rachel brightens up, glad to be of some help. Astrid hands over the spatula and puts her hand over Rachel’s, guiding her slowly as she stirs. Rachel tells herself to focus on the hot chocolate instead of Astrid’s touch.

She holds her breath, then tries desperately to even it out to resemble normalcy and nonchalance. She’s not sure how to react, not when Astrid’s hand is so cool on Rachel’s yet still radiating a soft warmth that she so desperately craves.

Oh God, oh God , she’s down bad. She’s down bad and she can’t do this anymore or she’ll–

“I- I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” Rachel blurts with a forced chuckle, her voice sounding high and nervous to her own ears. She hands the spatula back to Astrid with shaking hands.

She wonders if she’s imagining the disappointment on Astrid’s face, but it disappears quickly, as quickly as the other girl composes herself, always.

 

The hot chocolate is finished in a matter of minutes, Astrid’s expertise in the area beginning to show. Rachel wonders if her earlier comment about her insomnia is true, then silently berates herself: Astrid might do many things to maintain a perfectly collected front, but lying is not one of them. 

“Marshmallows?” Astrid’s soft, now-familiar voice breaks her out of her reverie.

“Sure,” Rachel replies as nonchalantly as possible, and Astrid pops some in, before presenting the drinks in front of them.

“Your drink, madam,” she deadpans.

Rachel smiles involuntarily. She’s adorable.

She picks up her drink to distract herself.

“Mmm,” Rachel takes a sip of the hot chocolate, eyes widening. She takes another sip. “That’s heavenly. ”

“It’s the cacao beans,” Astrid smiles. She leans over. “Let me tell you a secret… the cocoa powder is homemade.”

“Homemade?”

“Ah Ma had them sourced from Ecuador,” Astrid explains. “Ah Ching, like the culinary genius she is, figured out how to make the powder, and she’s used this same recipe for as long as I can remember.”

Rachel nods, taking in Astrid’s every word. She marvels at the way Astrid doesn’t pretend about her wealth around her, not putting on any airs and graces but certainly acknowledging her privileges. 

A thought occurs to her. “Wait… doesn’t chocolate contain caffeine? Does the chocolate really help you sleep?”

Astrid makes a face like she has been caught out on a lie, before bursting into contagious giggles. Rachel can’t help but laugh along with her. “No, I’ve heard that it actually helps… something about tryptophan in the cocoa, I think. Plus, there’s warm milk in it, isn’t there?”

When their laughter dies down, Astrid’s expression settles into something more serious. “I’ve been meaning to thank you, Rachel,” she says. “For… you know. Earlier.”

“Oh,” something tugs at Rachel’s heartstrings, prompting her to put her hand over Astrid’s on the table. “You don’t have to thank me for that.” You would’ve done the same, she wants to add, except she’s not entirely sure yet, not really.

“How are you feeling?” she asks instead, retracting her hand hastily.

“I’m… I don’t think I’m surprised. Not really,” Astrid says, and that too-familiar half-smile breaks Rachel’s heart into two.

“Oh, Astrid,” Rachel starts, then forgets how to speak. As she tries to recall how to form coherent sentences, a thought suddenly occurs to her, glaringly significant.

“Did you… did you ever love him?” And maybe it’s because they can barely see each other’s faces in the dark, or the hot chocolate has melted her better instincts into nothing, but they could be anywhere else, anyone else, and maybe they could just be a pair of friends in another universe and Rachel would still ask her this question, because she has seen Astrid happy, Astrid sad, Astrid at her most vibrant no matter the occasion, and she realizes that she has never really seen Astrid shine around Michael.

Say no, say no, say no, her mind begs, and although she feels like a total idiot and jerk at that for even considering the prospect, she can’t help it.

“I- um.” Astrid laughs, and it sounds desperate, like she’s holding back tears. “I mean… did I ever… I did. I married him, didn’t I? So, yes. I definitely do suppose, there was a time when… ” She stops. Looks up at Rachel almost pleadingly. “What about you? Are you in love with my cousin?”

Rachel frowns, because she doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like Astrid changing the subject and shifting the conversation’s focus from her, attempting to cover up the truth. And she knows that’s what Astrid is doing because she has done the same thing thousands of times before.

Astrid’s words don’t even sink in until a beat later.

“Your cousin? You mean Nick ?” Rachel says incredulously when she finally does realize what the other girl is getting at, momentarily forgetting about her concern. “Astrid, I- Nick and I aren’t dating. We’re best friends .”

Astrid’s mouth forms a perfect ‘o’, visible even in the darkness. “You mean-” Rachel can just make out her trying to process this new information. “Nick never told me a thing!”

“Because there was nothing to tell!” Rachel laughs. “Besides, I doubt Nick told you this either… I’m not attracted to guys.”

Way to go, Rachel . She has no idea where that came from. But something about Astrid makes her feel so vulnerable yet so at ease that she can’t help but blurt out random truths that no one asked for.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to… I don’t expect you to have an answer to that.” She scrambles to cover up. “That was out of the blue, I’m sorry.”

She can’t read Astrid’s expression in this dim lighting, but realizes, belatedly, that the Overseas Chinese that make up Astrid’s family are undoubtedly much more conservative than what she grew up with in America.

“That’s not a problem,” Astrid’s next words surprise her, reassuring, yet firm. “I hope you don’t think that I’ll think of you differently, or anything. It’s– really not a big deal.”

Rachel lets out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. This is Astrid , after all. Before she can thank her, however, Astrid opens her mouth again.

“Not that I don’t think it’s not important, of course! I do, I just meant that won’t change my perspective of–”

“Michael’s a real idiot, you know that?” Rachel interrupts softly, reaching over the table to squeeze Astrid’s hand before she can chicken out. “You’re amazing. I’m so sorry he can’t see that.”

Astrid stays quiet, but the silent squeeze back in response is all Rachel needs.

 

A text comes through to her phone after she’s bade good night to Astrid and is safely tucked in bed, inviting her over on Sunday evening to celebrate Cassian’s birthday together.

It’s very cute and slightly un-Astrid in the sense that she can feel the other girl’s nervousness through the screen, for whatever reason that may be, but it fills her with hope and she doesn’t have to think twice about her response: I’d love to :))

She falls asleep easily after that. The tryptophan and warm milk must’ve worked its magic.

 

Astrid lives in the penthouse of a condominium off Clemenceau Avenue, and to most outsiders it must seem the epitome of grandeur and wealth (apart from an actual landed house), but Rachel guesses it must be quite a bit smaller than what Astrid is probably accustomed to.

Michael’s doing , she fumes inwardly as she rings the doorbell, but her momentary outrage fades away completely at the smile Astrid offers her as a greeting.

 

“Anything would be better than this… this mess,’ Astrid proclaims, barely an hour later. Cassian has been dropped off at his grandparents’ house on Nassim Road, and the two of them are trying to bake his birthday cake before it’s time for him to come home. Verdict: so far, unsuccessful to say the least.

“Astrid Leong!” Rachel gasps in mock offense. “Did you just diss my baking skills?”

The raised eyebrows and barely concealed giggles are more than enough to make up for her (only very slightly) bruised ego. 

 

They manage to produce a chocolate cake that actually seems edible before Felicity comes round to drop Cassian off, made better by the icing that Astrid proves to have a talent for. Although Rachel ends up with cake batter smeared across her forehead and there’s a cracked egg on the otherwise spotless marble floor of the kitchen that they’ll have to clean up soon, she can’t remember ever laughing that much.

The doorbell rings just as they pop the finished cake into the fridge, all ready for tomorrow. “I’ll get it!” Astrid grins, before swiping Rachel’s forehead with her finger and popping into her mouth. “Mmm. Delicious.”

Rachel thinks her cheeks are going to split from smiling so hard, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Later that night, after Cassian has greeted his Auntie Rachel and been put straight to bed by a worried Astrid who doesn’t want him discovering the mess in the kitchen, the two of them stand side by side, scrubbing said messy kitchen clean.

“Don’t you– don’t you have maids who can do this for you?” Rachel pipes up, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. She’s been wondering that ever since they baked the cake.

“I do, but,” Astrid straightens up from where she’s gotten the last speck of flour out of the island table. “Sundays are their days off, and besides, I prefer doing things myself whenever I can. It reminds me that I’m not out of touch with reality.”

Had it come from anyone else it might’ve been an overly pretentious statement, but it’s Astrid , who is genuine in just about everything she says and does, and so all Rachel feels is a new admiration for the woman in front of her.

“Would you like to stay the night?” Astrid asks suddenly.

Rachel startles. Stay the night? 

Of course, I would love that, I-

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure whether I was clear in my invitation. But, um, Cassian’s birthday is tomorrow, and Michael…” Astrid trails off, and again Rachel sees that vulnerability that is so unfamiliar yet so endearing on her. 

“You don’t have to!” Astrid rushes to continue. “I was just wondering, if maybe that’d be alright.”

“Of course it’d be alright.” Rachel says, equally rushed, willing the flush on her cheeks to go away. 

 

 

Which is how she ends up sharing a bed with Astrid, at the other girl’s insistence. Rachel has stated multiple times that she’s perfectly fine sleeping on the couch, but Astrid refuses until Rachel has to give in.

Rachel watches Astrid apply skincare after they’ve both brushed their teeth, no doubt some expensive cream with equally expensive results. Or, knowing Astrid, it might just as well be some random tube purchased from a drugstore. It’s impossible to be certain.

She doesn’t even notice Astrid’s finished until the other girl is climbing into bed beside her. “Tired?”

“Not yet. But I don’t mind sleeping now if you are.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Astrid smiles, before reaching for a hair tie from the bedside table. Rachel looks on, mesmerized, as Astrid quickly weaves her long hair into a braid.

She notices Rachel is watching her. “Do you want me to do yours too?”

A single nod. Astrid’s fingers are gentle as she threads them into Rachel’s hair, expertly twisting the strands into a braid, and it is strangely intimate, somehow.

 

They turn off the lights soon after that. Rachel tries not to think about the warmth of Astrid’s body next to hers, and is thankfully able to take her mind off it as they continue to chat about everything and anything.

“Where do you think you’d be,” Rachel asks in the darkness, “If you weren’t here right now?” If you didn’t have this life?

Rachel has no idea when the conversation shifted to be this deep, but she doesn’t mind, and she’s starting to get the feeling that Astrid doesn’t either.

Astrid hums thoughtfully. “I think… I wouldn’t be living in the city. I’ve always wanted to live by the beach. And maybe I’d do something creative. A fashion designer, probably.”

Rachel is pleasantly unsurprised. It isn’t the answer she expected, but for some reason she’s not surprised. In fact, now that she thinks about it, she can imagine Astrid living on an island of her own, going down to the beach to painstakingly hand-dye each piece of fabric, then selling her collections to the people who deserve it most.

“A fashion designer… I can definitely see you doing that. Wait, didn’t you go to Oxford?”

“I did,” comes Astrid’s reply.

“Nick tells me you graduated top of your class.”

“Nick thinks too highly of me.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?”

Rachel imagines Astrid smiling grudgingly. “Yes.”

“What did you major in?” Rachel senses her opportunity to get to know Astrid better, and seizes it.

“I majored in… law. Jurisprudence.”

Rachel pauses, unsure whether to prod. She decides in the affirmative. “And… nothing really came out of that?”

“Well,” Rachel hears rather than sees Astrid take a breath. “I did get an offer from a law firm when I was fresh out of uni. But my mother…”

Rachel nudges Astrid’s shoulder gently in a show of commiseration. She doesn’t know Felicity Leong all that well, but already she gets the feeling that she drives her daughter half crazy.

“My mother wouldn’t allow me to work for someone else, for money no less, unless it was Young Corporations.” Astrid laughs mirthlessly. “I’ve always wondered how things would’ve been if I’d just taken up that offer.

“When I was younger, I wanted to make it in the world, you see. On my own. Not by nepotism, or any connections, but my mum didn’t understand that.”

Astrid pauses before continuing. “The thing is, I never wanted to be a lawyer. I just… God . I’m sorry. I’ve never said any of this to anyone…”

There’s a beat, and Rachel hears discreet sniffling. She’s alarmed. “Astrid…”

“I feel like I’m always crying around you.” Astrid chuckles, accompanied by another sniffle, and this time Rachel doesn’t hesitate before enveloping the other girl in a hug. 

“You get sick and tired of this life, you know?” are the words that come out of Astrid’s mouth after what feels like an eternity, slightly muffled as her face is buried in Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel has never minded anything less. “You do everything perfectly, you draw inside the lines, and yet it has every tendency to blow up at you.” Somehow Rachel gets the sense that she’s not talking about university anymore.

It sounds lonely, and cynical, but mostly lonely.

You’re not alone , Rachel wants to tell her, but the words are trapped in her throat, refusing to come out. You’re not alone , she tries to convey as she tightens her grip around Astrid, wishing she could hold her forever. You’re not alone .

And in a burst of courageousness she presses a kiss to the top of Astrid’s head, gentle and soft and fleeting. Astrid doesn’t respond; either she’s fallen asleep already or she doesn’t mind.

Rachel sincerely, desperately hopes it's the latter.

 

Astrid shows no trace of tears the next morning, instead being all smiles and cheerfulness. It worries Rachel a tiny bit, but also makes her marvel at how quickly the other girl can bounce back.

She may or may not also be incredibly distracted by the fact that when she woke up this morning, it was next to Astrid, and the very first thing she laid eyes on was Astrid’s serene face, and that, she thinks, beats the view of New York’s skyscrapers any day.

Cassian enjoys his cake immensely, even if he can only have a small piece - he’s only four, after all. But Rachel is glad that he can finally satisfy that choco-cake craving.

Too soon it’s time for her to leave.

“Come over again!” Cassian is saying, showing none of his initial shyness, and the request is so innocently excited that Rachel considers taking him up on it.

Astrid laughs as she leads Rachel to the front door. “We’ll see about that. Auntie Rachel is probably quite busy.”

“No, not at all,” Rachel answers with a smile that is specifically meant for Astrid. 

“Thank you,” Astrid says softly as they step out of the apartment for a moment, Astrid shutting the door quietly behind her. Rachel wills the elevator to take its own leisurely time. “And, Cassian’s right, you know. The invitation is always open.”

“Thank you ,” Rachel replies, grinning, reaching over to give Astrid a hug. It feels more natural, now, even though her heart still skips a giddy beat. She can even rest her chin on Astrid’s shoulder, and just catch the whispered “ I owe you, Rachel ” into her ear.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

 

When Rachel arrives back at Tyersall Park she’s still on a high, but a calm, content high. 

She takes off her shoes and steps inside the kitchen and the calmness just about flies out the window when she runs upstairs, flops onto her bed, and screams happily into her pillow for a good minute.

 

Wednesday comes and goes. Rachel decides to meet up with Peik Lin again, and this time they go to P.S. Cafe, a trendy place at Dempsey Hill, where they can enjoy the food and each other’s company without being disturbed by Peik Lin’s admittedly quite overwhelming family. (No matter how cute her little sisters are.)

“I hope Nick can convince you to come to Singapore again soon, Rach,” Peik Lin says as they hug goodbye after their meal. Rachel, filled to the brim with yummy pasta and peach fizz, takes a sleepy, happy while to process the other girl's words.

When she does it feels like she’s been splashed with a bucket of ice water. Right. She’s leaving - she and Nick are leaving , leaving Singapore, leaving his family and the world he has grown up in once again - hell, she’d even forgotten their flight’s on Friday.

It had seemed like an eternity away when she and Astrid were burying that dead fish on Samsara island, but now it feels much too close for comfort.

No, not now , she thinks, desperately, as she hugs Peik Lin back on autopilot. Just give me a moment longer.

 

She goes home and decides to text Astrid - she thinks it odd that she hasn’t heard from the other girl at all since she left her house yesterday morning. 

To: Astrid

Hey! Just checking in.

To: Astrid

How are you doing?

To: Astrid

Do you wanna meet up again soon? :)

The texts go unanswered.

 

On Thursday morning she finally receives a text back. When she sees the text, she knows why Astrid hasn’t exactly been responsive: it’s a single line that has numbers and words, and Rachel has to look twice before she realizes it’s an address.

A new address, not the one for her apartment on Clemenceau Avenue.

Rachel feels her heartbeat speed up. That could mean many things, she tells herself. Many things, or–

Or Astrid has left Michael for good.

 

She gets her answer when she rings the doorbell of the new apartment, which already seems much more spacious and luxurious than the previous one. She gets her answer when Astrid unlocks the door, her smile strained and tired but free , and freedom makes Astrid look positively radiant.

“I walked out on Michael,” Astrid says on an exhale instead of greeting her, and Rachel has never heard five more glorious words.

“Oh,” Rachel says dumbly. She can’t decide whether it’s better to say Good on you! or I’m so sorry , but Astrid helps her with that when she adds, “And I don’t regret any second of it.”

“Oh!” Rachel says again, this time proudly and in awe of the woman in front of her. Astrid, who has remained strong and who can still smile after everything. The relief she feels on Astrid’s behalf is crushing, dizzying, and she sort of feels like there should be fireworks going off in the background, but then again sort of not, the way this is just as bittersweet as it is celebratory.

“When did you…”

“It was after you left on Tues–”

“I’m proud of you.” Rachel blurts out, saying what has been on her mind for some time now. She’s not sure if this is a thing people say to other people who have just left their lying, cheating husbands, but she is , and she has to let Astrid know. I’m proud of you.

“Thank you,” Astrid laughs breathlessly, and Rachel can see the tears glistening in her eyes, and before she knows it they are both laughing and crying and embracing and Astrid is free, free of ever making herself smaller for an insecure man and her life will never quite be the same, but Rachel is proud of her nonetheless.

 

Later, when they’ve run out of laughter and tears, Astrid pours champagne for both of them from a glittering pink bottle. They clink glasses before taking a sip, and the way the fizz is warm as it goes down Rachel’s throat calms her down and helps her remember how to function rationally again.

“Do you own this apartment? It’s a bit more than what Michael could afford, huh?” 

“This apartment building.” Astrid answers with a bashful smile.

“Wow.” Rachel tilts her champagne glass towards the other girl. “Didn’t you mention- what was that thing you said? About your parents buying you properties like they were candy bars?”

Astrid chuckles. “I can’t believe you remember that. But yes, and I am ever so grateful.” She rolls her eyes fondly.

It’s still in the tentative stages, but already Rachel can see some of the light returning to Astrid’s eyes. It fills her with immeasurable hope.

“Wait.” Astrid pauses, her gaze suddenly unreadable. Rachel holds her breath, unsure what it means. “You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“I-” Rachel starts, then stops. She is, isn’t she? That was the plan - that was always the plan. 

But plans can change.

“Rachel? You look like you’re going to say something…” Astrid bites her lip, as if she’s searching for the right words. “You don’t have to hold back when you’re with me. So- say anything. Spill. You know I won’t judge.”

Her words, a silent answer to everything that Rachel has been questioning so far, provides the surge Rachel needs to go forth.

“I’m willing to stay.” she says in one breath, scared that if she doesn’t get it out now, she never will. But it’s true, and she means it, and it scares her - but she means it, she does . She can almost imagine it: staying with Astrid in her new apartment, maybe even a bigger one, taking turns to drop Cassian off at kindergarten, laughing behind the aunties’ backs after every overly snobby comment. Sure, she’s been ridiculed, and battered at, but she’ll stay - she’ll stay for Astrid. She’s worth it. Worth everything. “I can- I don’t know what Nick plans to do, but I can always choose a different flight. And it’ll take some time, I know, but… I’m willing to.”

“I think I might go to New York instead.” 

Rachel freezes, wondering if she’s heard the words right. She thinks she is going to go mad from the hope that is stemming in her heart, that is subtly underlying everything the two of them are saying right now, subtle, like Astrid always is, but…

“What? No. No, no, no, Astrid , you can’t drop everything for me–”

“It’s not- it’s not just for you.” Astrid says carefully. Rachel almost laughs, but she can’t bring herself to. The sheer hope in everything is too much. “I’m thinking of Cassian, of all the drama that I know is going to ensue… I don’t want him growing up with that. I don’t want him growing up haunted by his asshole of a father. And.. if I’m being honest, I’d like to get away from all this too.”

Rachel takes a deep breath. “Are you absolutely sure–”

“Besides, what other city would I be able to see your beautiful face in?”

Rachel’s world stops.

And resumes again when Astrid manages to melt her with another of those gorgeous smiles.

“Astrid,” she says, bravely, timidly, the possibility of all that could-be filling her with inexplicable courage. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Astrid freezes, and for a moment Rachel’s world teeters precariously off balance.

She scrambles to cover it up, heart pounding dangerously in her ears. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “I mean- I mean, God, sorry, I overstepped, didn’t I… you just went through a divorce, what am I doing… I’m sorry, Astrid. Not- not for wanting to kiss you, I don’t regret that, I just-”

“You dork,” Astrid giggles, her gaze scared and hopeful and a little crazed, and Rachel melts in relief - oh thank God oh thank God oh thank God . The train of the world shudders back into motion, the last of the puzzle pieces slide into place, all her senses are screaming Astrid, Astrid, Astrid and it is a glorious thing. “Just kiss me already.”

 

So she does.

Notes:

repopulating the cra tag cause why not🤪

can’t stop thinking about that one ha sisters video where erica says “dafuq” after every sentence and that lowkey sums up how i felt reading this over😭the characterization is pretty much nonexistent bye (dafuq)
(i am so severely sleep-deprived rn)

in all seriousness i hope you guys enjoyed!! thank you so much for reading, kudos and comments are always vv much appreciated❤️

aaaand fun fact astrid’s cocktail dress is actually described as perfect in the script! (which i have definitely utilized way too many times.)
another fun fact i have absolutely no clue where i came up with the part about the tryptophan so. please bear with me😭

if you’ve managed to make it this far, thank you thank you for reading and HAPPY NEW YEAR!! 🥳💗

p.s. this may or may not have a companion fic in the works that may or may not ever see the light of day but WE'LL SEEEEE😋

also feel free to hit me up on twitter @schershangs :))