eggheads

by br_er

Summary:

Sometimes smart people can be a little dumb when it comes to matters of love.

-

Shuri picks up her nephew from summer camp and meets his rather interesting teacher. Sparks fly--or at least they could, but it'll take a little more effort for them to get to the first date.

Chapter 1: en

“Science camp?” Shuri repeated outloud, baffled—floored—befuddled even.

She swung her carry-on over her shoulder, her wide, glossy sunglasses sliding into place as she stepped outside the airport, “You paid…American dollars... to send my nephew—my cherished blood— to an…" she tasted the words on her tounge, disgust plain, "American, science summer camp? You could have sent him home for free. Is he being punished?”

Nakia’s holograph flickered over the left lens of Shuri’s sunglasses, “Not at all,” she said with a light-hearted chuckle, “You must understand, he practically begged to go. He wants to be like his auntie,” she teased, eyebrows raising pointedly, “Every kid his age apparently goes there for the summer, so I thought it’d be a good experience.”

And at that—Shuri’s heart warmed a smidge with smug satisfaction, “What does he even do there?” she asked, signaling her driver.

“Well, last week they learned about rock formations and visited a river to collect samples. This week they’re learning about circuits and— ” Nakia paused, squinting a bit, lips pursed as she thought, “He wants to show you himself, so I can’t spoil all the fun.”

“Bah--keep your secrets then,” Shuri said, popping the trunk to her car and throwing her suitcase in without a second glance. She accepted the keys from the driver, passing back a sizable tip in return, “What’s the address again?”

-

Miles away there was a little brick building across from the East Shore Public Library. It was a community center that had seen better years, but it wasn’t any less lively. Rainbow paper-chains threaded through the metal chain-link fences, green cups peppering the front window sills that were filled with budding sprouts, and a faded mural of stars and planets spanned the wall facing the street.

Several kids burst out of the front doors, capes tied around their shoulders as they clambered after one another. They all sprinted towards the jungle-gym out back--an adventure has begun it seems.

Inside, chipped, sickly-yellow walls were littered with peeling flyers. The words were bright, demanding you remember that--and dream for this--and volunteer for that. Little heads slouched along one wall, dark eyes staring ahead--the lot scowling, pouting, and grumbling as they waited to be freed from time out.

A line of colorful doors dotted down the hallway. Inside each classroom there were equally colorful tables, chairs, and walls. The kids clustered around each one--voices overlapping like a chirping nest of birds, grubby fingers reaching for the many tools and materials sprawled across the surface of their respective table. Scissors, wire, little light-bulbs and batteries--they all fought for their weapons of choice.

Their teacher moved about the classroom with ease. She stood tall--which wasn’t saying much, but she stood tall enough. Her grown-out, auburn braids were gathered in a messy bun, sitting crooked at the top of her head. She wore a long, cargo skirt that dragged behind, the sound of her beat-up work boots catching your ear long before you saw her face. The kids dutifully worked on the project, following her instructions.

Well…most of the kids did.

Toussaint stared at the scattered pieces in front of him. Clunky, disconnected--looking nothing like the cartoon diagram. He frowned, mouth shrinking into his face, hands crumpling the instructions as his frustration grew. It tickled his throat and clogged his breath.

“I…don’t get it,” he mumbled to himself, lip wobbling a bit.

What was he doing wrong?

Everyone else understood the instructions just fine. Little lights flickering on one-by-one, each one leaving him behind.

“But it's so easy? I’m done--” Demitrius boasted next to him.

He was a boy who was more afro than face. He had been doodling on the paper and table for most of the time, his project hastily put together long-before they even got instructions. It looked equally wrong and was covered in pudding--gross.

Across the table, the only girl at the table was slumped over, snoring away. Lunella had spent a total of five minutes putting together her project with little difficulty. She didn’t follow the instructions at all. There were parts moving, blinking, and whirring away--most of which she had grabbed from her bag.

She was most likely closer to being a scientist then any of them--then him.

Toussaint flinched at the realization, blinking rapidly as those little drops flowed.

He stared at the paper--it started right back.

Why didn’t it make any sense? Why couldn’t he do something so simple--

Looking up again, Demitrius did a double take, crayon falling as panic flashed across his face. His hand shot up, waving a bit, “Uh…Titi?” he called out, eyes darting around the classroom.

Riri let out a long, drawn out sigh, pinching her nose, “No, lil-man you cannot eat the wires. I done told you this--” she turned around, face falling.

No matter how long she's done this--she could never get used to the face of a crying child.

Toussaint sniffled quietly, tears running hot down his cheeks. They fell onto the instructions, blotting out the words like scattered shadows-- his hands shaking. He didn’t hear the footsteps nor the dragging skirt. He doesn’t know when, but he blinked and the sickly, yellow walls of the hallway were around him.

Riri crouched in front of the child--speaking low and unhurried.

Toussaint didn’t catch a word of what she said, but he pretended to hear. He wiped his nose, “...I’m okay,” he said, voice small--easily swallowed by the noise of the classroom and hallway, “I’m okay, I promise,” he repeated, hoping she’d believe him. Hoping she wouldn’t bring it up to his mom--she was busy enough. He didn’t want to worry her because he was being stupid. At that thought, he let out another choked up sob.

“Hey-hey, hey, I believe you,” Riri reassured softly, nodding as she wiped his face, “We’re jus’ gonna chill for a bit, that’s all.”

Toussaint nodded, sniffling as he blinked back the remaining tears.

After a while they finally returned to the classroom.

Miss Riri eyed the remains of his project curiously for a moment.

Toussaint fidgeted in his chair, looking off, embarrassed, but by the time he looked back--the light was blinking. It didn’t even look all that different from how he had it before and yet it worked.

Bright eyed, Toussaint looked up, “You fixed it,” he said, awed, prodding the project carefully.

“There wasn’t much to fix,” Riri said with a small smile, pointing to the two wires--purple and orange--he had unintentionally crossed, “You were on the right track, you just got a little mixed up.”

Demitrius nodded along, afro bobbing with the movement, “Of course she fixed it, my Titi’s the smartest in the world” he boasted, flashing a toothy grin.

Miss Riri snorted, ruffling his hair, “Well I guess I-”

At that, Toussaint’s nose scrunched up, “She’s not the smartest,” he said, matter of fact.

Demitrius scowled, head whipping around, “Yes she is-”

“No she isn’t-” Toussaint huffed, eyes narrowing as his chin raised, no lingering tears to be seen, “My Tati is the smartest.”

“No my T--”

“I’m sure we’re both smart,” Miss Riri said, cutting them both off with a no-nonsense look, “It’s not a competition, so--" her words were cut short as loud shrieks erupted from a nearby table--a kid threw up. Riri rushed over, conversation long forgotten as she tried to settle down the chaos.

In the meantime, Demitirus and Toussaint stared at each other, eyes glinting as a new challenge had been issued.

-

Afternoon pick up was a shit show like always.

Kids forgetting shit-- the shoes on their feet and the beads in their head. Parents acting tough for no good reason. Xavier had to break up several fights in the parking lot already. One kid crawled behind the front desk and scribbled over the entire sign in/out sheet in metallic sharpie. Then when she went to confiscate the sharpie, he threw up on her.

So yeah-- a normal, shit end to a shit day.

Riri didn’t hate her job, per say, but it certainly wasn't something she ever imagined doing. Wiping noses, breaking up fights, teaching the planets through song. It wasn’t exactly the filthy rich, inventor, astronaut she always envisioned herself becoming.But...it wasn’t like she had many options at this point. It helped that she liked dealing with kids better than undergrads, but she wasn’t sure that a consistent check was worth the biohazard-ass conditions.

After the first wave of pick-ups--the usual stragglers were left. The rest of the summer staff began to either clean up or supervise the remaining kids playing out back.

Riri manned the front desk, busying herself with the mountains of paper-work. She flipped through the sign in/out sheet, wincing as she noticed the sharpie was bleeding on everything else in the stack. Knowing her boss, he’d expect everything to get reprinted. She’d been bugging the man about setting up a digital sign-in, but he was averse to anything that wasn’t invented before the 1900s.

The bell on the front door rang, but she didn’t bother to look up, eyes darting between her open laptop and the stained paperwork.

Light footsteps approached the front desk and someone cleared their throat, “I’m here to pick up Toussaint,” they said with an accent she couldn’t quite place immediately.

Riri was briefly annoyed about the lack of a last name, but then remembered Toussaint was actually the only kid enrolled with that name this summer. She glanced up, before doing a double take.

That...was not Toussaint’s Mama.

Slim fingers with neatly trimmed nails rested against the counter, a long line she couldn’t help but follow up. Tall, lean, with tightly cropped curls. Shades blocking her eyes, dark and glossy like the athleisure set she wore. Expensive. She stood out—then again, she’d stand out anywhere. The stranger smiled—a cheeky flash of silver and dimples. Riri’s stomach flipped--funny—distantly she heard children laughing.

“Uh, right,” Riri blinked, brain doing a hard reset as she set aside the papers she was sorting through, “Can I see some I.D?” she asked, mouth on autopilot.

Reaching behind the desk, she found a beat-up binder, bursting at the seams. She flipped through the pages and accepted their Passport I.D comparing it to the student’s file. Very professional, calm, mature--fuck she looked a mess. She confirmed the information and picked up her walkie-talkie, notifying them to send Toussaint up.

Riri inhaled, putting on her best customer service smile, “You must be the famous Tati,” she mused as she handed back the I.D. She then adjusted her top, hoping to hide the stains.

Shuri raised her sunglasses, perching them on top of her head—distracting, dark eyes, catching the fluorescent glare like unearthed, precious stone, “He talks about me?” she asked.

“You’re all we can get him to talk about,” Riri shared, unconsciously tugging a braid loose from her bun and twirling it as she spoke, “He had us thinking you're the Queen of England.”

“Oh?”

Riri looked her up and down, eyes taking great care to take in every detail. She leaned against the counter, “I can believe it,” she said, looking around before her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “You’ve got a presence--real regal like.”

“Uh-huh,” Shuri murmured with a creeping smile, “What? Are you saying I'm intimidating?”

“Something like that…” Riri said with a low laugh, fingers tapping against the counter.

Everything about the teacher was--distracting.

Those hands, always in motion. The little cartoon band-aids around her thumbs, a bright, vibrant orange that matched the chain of little flags looping around the marbled, front desk. Gold hoops and a matching chain hanging above her collarbones, moles dotting the curve of her neck. Those broad shoulders and toned arms. Cropped tank-top and that long skirt that hung low on her hips--nothing indecent, but enough to be appreciated. The way her eyes never hesitated to meet her own--a silent challenge—a question.

 

Then Riri smiled again or rather her smile changed. It became smaller—less polished. Crooked—shy almost. The front gap in her teeth peeking through her lips. Distantly she heard children laughing.

Shuri was unable to decide where her eyes should land.

It was hard to describe--that lingering, something. The air tense, but not unfriendly as they stared at each other-- expectant. As if they were both waiting to see who’d be the first crack--the first to exhale--the first to ask--

Riri stiffened as her walkie-talkie went off again and she remembered herself--her job. She cleared her throat, “Yeah, Toussaint is a sweet student, but…”

At the mention of her nephew, Shuri's attention sharply pivoted, “Did something happen?”

“He had a tough time in lessons today,” Riri gently explained, “He got overwhelmed and had to step out of class for a little bit. Otherwise, he had a pretty good day.”

“Overwhelmed…?” Shuri repeated, uneasy, “Are the lessons difficult?”

After a certain age, she never saw the boy get upset at much. He was always a bright, cheerful child.

Then again, the same could’ve been said about her growing up. More often than not, she became rather adept at hiding the nastier feelings.

Riri sent her a sympathetic look, “The lessons are age-appropriate, but sometimes kids get frustrated and that makes it harder for them.”

Sometimes it wasn’t a matter of being smart enough. Humans are far too complicated to be ruled by logic alone. She knew it unsettled some guardians when their kids struggled. Knowing that it wasn’t something that’d be a quick fix or easily brushed under the rug. Sometimes she’s even had parents pull their kids out of the program--accusing her of all sorts of things, before eventually re-enrolling once they realized the options in the area for affordable S.T.E.M programs were slim to none.

Shuri looked a bit concerned, but she nodded her head, “I’ll be sure to inform his Mother. Thank you for letting us know," she said, making a mental note for later, “So... do you help plan the lessons?” she asked, conversationally.

Riri barked out a laugh, “Nah,” she said, shaking her head, schooling her expression quickly.

Shuri raised her eyebrow, “Not a fan, then?”

Riri hummed, looking off to the side, “The lesson plans are...fine,” she reluctantly admitted, “But, some kids are further along then others, so they get bored and…act up.”

“I’m sure they keep you busy.”

“Mhm," Riri's mouth pinched at the thought, muttering under her breath, "It’s my karma for all the shit I pulled in school growing up.”

“You? A troublemaker?” Shuri asked, leaning against the counter.

“You don’t believe it?” Riri's eyes squinted, cocking her head. A clean scent crept into her space--she didn't entirely mind.

Oh, Shuri believed it.

The teacher was trouble. From that ever elusive smile, to those dangerously sharp eyes--all carefully tucked behind that flimsy professional demeanor.

Growing up, the elders always said that where there was trouble, Shuri would follow.

Today wasn’t any different.

Shuri considered this for a moment, knowing what her next move should be, but--

“Tati--!” Toussaint shouted, sneakers squeaking as he rushed to greet his aunt.

The pair jumped at the sound, pulling away from each other.

Shuri cleared her throat, glancing back uncertainly, but she was quickly distracted as Toussaint jumped into her arms with a bubbly laugh. He was as bright as she remembered. Her worries eased, if only for that moment. It seemed as if her nephew had already forgotten his difficulties.

She lifted him up, the squirming boy falling into another fit of giggles as she tossed him about before setting him down.

Toussaint grabbed her hand, pulling her along as he chatted away. He tossed a careless wave behind, “Bye-bye Miss Riri, ” he called back, pushing through the doors.

Shuri sent Riri one final, lingering look before she was dragged away.

Once the door slammed shut, Riri sucked in her teeth, body slumping against the front desk. She pressed her head against the cool countertop, knocking it a few times for good measure as she collected her thoughts. She let out one, lengthy groan--disappointment rolling right into frustration.

Fucking dammit.

Sure she was sleep-deprived, covered in questionable stains, and looked a mess, but she definitely still had a chance.

If she was lucky, maybe she’d get to see her again.

-

Shuri swung that baby-blue, back-pack decorated with pink cats over her shoulder. She walked slower then normal, eyes glancing back towards the building every-so-often before inevitably returning to her nephew who was skipping, full-speed ahead.

She was confused, to say the least. They were interrupted, but Shuri had some time to at least ask for her number, give her number--something. But her mouth was dry, intended words lost and easily swept away by her nephew’s excitement.

It was undeniable--she froze.

That big brain of her--faltered, lingering far too long to get to the point. That never happens. She’s been attracted to women in the past. It certainly wouldn’t have been her first time initiating and yet she hesitated.

Riri was working. She was clearly exhausted. It didn’t…feel right to hit on someone when they couldn’t easily reject her advances.

That was probably it.

That was all there was to it.

Shuri shook her head, annoyed at herself. Regardless, the other woman was clearly interested. She should’ve taken the chance, but there was no point in getting too hung up over it. She was leaving in a week anyways.

She settled into the car, starting it up. She glanced into the rear-view mirror, making sure her nephew didn’t forget to put on his seatbelt as he continued to talk his head off.

“Did you go to college--” Toussaint randomly asked in the middle of describing the latest episode of that cartoon series he’s been watching.

Shuri took a moment to process the change of topic, pulling out of the parking space, “...College?” she echoed, confused, “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”

At that, her nephew’s face crumpled. He fiddled with his hands, mumbling, “Demitrius says you can’t be the smartest if you don’t go to college…”

Shuri paused at that, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Demitrius?

It must be one of the kids from camp.

“Our education system isn’t structured the same as western institutions,” she said, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

Toussaint straightened up at her tone, recognizing it as another one of her haphazard lessons.

Seeing that she had his attention, Shuri continued, “A good percentage of our population resides in rural areas, so our education system is relatively decentralized and the other tribes--”

Shuri’s built more schools then she’s attended to be honest. Over the years she’s even expanded beyond Wakanda to set up outreach and educational facilities. It was the reason she was in Chicago to begin with--she was overseeing the final touches of the newest facility.

Toussaint listened avidly as she detailed the various tribes and their educational systems. Sometimes she worried if she was going too fast or using too many words he didn’t understand, but he never balked at their discussions. He always took everything in, drinking in each word. Later on he’d usually quietly ask her to elaborate or explain anything he didn’t catch the first time. She figured that he preferred not to be babied. And considering the fact that he was their future King--she knew it was best to inform him the best she could.

Then out of curiosity, she asked what they were even talking about to bring up college to begin with.

“Oh, Demitrius said Miss Riri was smarter then you cause she went to MIT,” Toussaint explained, scowling at the reminder.

“She did?” Shuri asked, interest stirring once more, “Do you know what she studied?”

Toussaint scratched his head, nose scrunching up for a moment before he shook his head--no.

Shuri sighed, a little disappointed, “...Anyhow, you can’t quantify intelligence based on education alone," she said, deciding to move on, "There're far too many variables that can impact that and it can be difficult to compare across regions. Do you understand?”

Toussaint nodded, arriving to a conclusion. Although it probably wasn’t the conclusion Shuri anticipated. He stared out the window, watching the raindrops scatter towards the bottom, envisioning his raindrop beating the rest to the finish line.

Notes:

and we're baaack. everybody clap bc i actually met my deadline for this one.

tho, I can't make any promises about the update schedule,,,,,, but the draft for this first fic is in fact complete. This is canon-divergent, with the main difference being that Shuri and Riri are meeting when they're a bit older, but most of the events of the second movie haven't taken place yet.

Demitrius is my OC and he is called Riri when he isn't around his auntie/is with his little friends. Toussaint and Demitrius being named after the important men in their families is something I hold dearly ok

thx for reading <333

Chapter 2: de

MADI
-

Riri Williams was a hater.

It was a carefully curated trait that only blossomed as she grew older.

One of the many—and she does mean many—things she held in such low regard were wealthy transplants. Right below them on the list was a confused—ass bitch. And lucky, lucky her-- these potential parents happened to be both.

The couple strode into the building, the door slamming hard, the bell clanging obnoxiously. They both wore matching sunglasses that were uncomfortably square and had slick-back, dyed black hair tied up into frustratingly tiny buns at the top of their pointy heads.

They had ignored her initial greeting. Instead they were talking to each other without a care in the world, leaning on the counter, and getting uncomfortably close. Close enough that she could see the spittle fly when they spoke, smell the weed on their breath, and see the coffee stains on their teeth.

Then—as if remembering her presence--the shorter one pushed up his sunglasses, revealing red—rimmed eyes without even an inkling of a thought behind them, “So we finna went and asked Chet-PTG where a bussin' program was for our little beaker baby. Chet blessed us up with a list, so we’re poppin' by to check y'all out for ourselves—type shit," his drawl had an annoying, nasal tinge to it. As if his vocal chords were dropped in a blender, but not quite pureed. The chunks of oddly phrased words sticking out as if he had picked up bits and pieces of his vernacular from tech-bro podcasts and rap-beef video essays.

Their partner had the same inflection, picking up from where he left off, “And like we gyat," she giggled, twirling the stray pieces of her hair as she smacked her gum, "-- to get like a tour, type-shit ” she said, nodding her head sagely.

“Right…” Riri sucked in her top lip, biting down hard to keep her expression neutral, “Our program offers a variety of camps and tutoring for student’s K-12 as well adult programs for--”

“Mhm, Chet-PTG told us--”

“Yeah, yeah we know but you can go ahead sis--””

Riri’s nostrils flared. A flickering, barely constrained rage skimmed the surface as she forced a bright smile. She nodded along with them, wishing to have whatever they were on.

Right on time, Xavier-- her co-worker, partner in crime, and long-time neighbor-- ducked behind the desk, setting his walkie-talkie on the charging station.

“Actually,” Riri grabbed Xavier’s elbow without looking and tugged him in front of the parents, “My co-worker here can help answer your questions,” she shamelessly said, rushing away before the man could protest. He was much better with people then she was anyways.

Right as her back turned, the front doors opened--the jingling of the bell faint in her ear.

Closely cropped curls poked through the doors.

Shuri looked around the lobby, disappointed. The woman on her mind was nowhere to be found.

-

MÈKREDI
-

“Are you sure?” Nakia asked through the phone’s speakers, “I can ask someone else if you’re busy—”

“He’s my nephew,” Shuri retorted with a laugh as she swiped through her playlists, “I’m never busy enough to pick him up--”

An alert went off in her ear-piece.

Once, twice, thrice more.

Shuri inhaled, jaw clenched as she changed lanes, pulling off a particularly illegal U-Turn, “...Apologies, something just came up so I can’t,” she admitted, a bitter taste in her mouth. She quickly said goodbye before bracing herself for the day ahead.

-
JEDI
-

Riri turned around in her rolling chair, freezing briefly--surprised. She looked off with a small smile, “Hey,” she managed to spit out, heart fluttering, “It’s been awhile, how’s the city treating you—?” She picked up her walkie-talkie, notifying the other teachers to send up Toussaint, glancing back up to the other woman every-so-often.

Shuri smiled back leaning against the counter, “It’s been the longest week of my life,” she shares, sighing wistfully.

“Rough time at work?”

Shuri’s head slumped back, big, brown eyes meeting hers with a soft, helpless look, “Like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve never encountered such impressive displays of incompetence.”

Riri hummed, fingers tracing circles into the counter, “It can’t be that bad,” she teased.

“Oh it was bad--”

“How bad--?”

At that, Shuri paused. She slowly straightened, turning around to meet her gaze head on, before her eyes deliberately dropped, taking care to size her up. Cheesing like a motherfucker with something to say.

Riri choked on a quiet realization, blinking hard--appalled, “Don’t you dare say some corny-ass shit--” she said through gritted teeth.

Shuri struggled to stifle her little snickers, holding up her hands defensively, “I didn’t say anything, but if you want to know it wasn’t as bad as y--”

Against her better judgement, Riri’s smile broke through, “Don’t--” she groaned, but it came out as a laugh. She stood abruptly to batt them away from the counter, her face burning, “Don’t you --don’t you dare--”

It was odd how her head was always a little lighter speaking with the woman, even if her nerves made her feel like a crumbling mess.

Maybe it was Shuri rubbing off on her a little. The woman moved and spoke as if she had nothing weighing her down. An easy-going, if not subdued energy that you couldn’t help but lean into.

Riri didn’t know much about them, but she never felt…judged in their brief interactions. She's done customer-service for awhile now and had to get used to that constant, aggravating feeling of having someone's boot dig into your spine and only having the ability to smile in response. Shuri never looked down on her, she just looked. Her eyes filled with a shameless curiosity that was… refreshing. A vibrant spark in her otherwise mundane life.

Shuri resisted her attempts to banish her from the counter, planting her hands down and leaning in instead, towering over the woman. That playful expression tinted with an unexpected intensity.

Riri stopped in her tracks, her complaints falling silent as she looked up at them expectedly, “...What?”

Shuri pursed her lips, then asked, “I’ve been thinking of taking some time off so I can see the city and I was wondering--”

CRASH.

They both flinched at the noise.

Riri bit down on her bottom lip--hard. It was always some-fucking-shit going on around here--

Another crash interrupted her train of thoughts and she sent them an apologetic look, “Sorry, I gotta--” Another crash and Riri’s hands flew to pick up her walkie-talkie. She circled the desk in a rush, thoughts storming as frustration crawled up the back of her throat.

Watching her go, Shuri let out one, drawn out sigh. She looked up at the fluorescent lights, muttering to herself as her fingers drummed against the counter.

She wasn’t sure how long it would take for the incident to be resolved, but regardless she did have to take Toussaint to an appointment right after this. She’d most likely miss her chance again. Thinking for a moment, she glanced around. She reached behind the counter to snag a sticky-note and a pen. She scribbled her number down, sticking the note where she’d hope the other woman would see it.

A simple, but effective work around.

And yet it wouldn’t work.

By the time Riri came back, the note was long gone.

The sticky note had been moved. From here--to there, everywhere. Moving about the front desk as the other employees completed their different tasks. Filing papers, checking-in students, and so on. Getting lost in the never-ending stacks of junk.

Eventually it got absentmindedly swept up by the custodian after it fell onto the ground.

Shuri tried not to be too disappointed when she never got that call.

-

VANDREDI
-

It was a cold, dark day. Several hooded figures approached. Their looming shadows stretched across the cracked pavement, sneakers squishing dandelions and kicking trash out of their path. The silence was deafening for all who watched. The observers scattered upon meeting their gaze. Those eyes were cruel with their absolute judgement towards the worms before them.

“You got the--” Gregory A. Peters Jr. voice cracked mid-sentence and he cleared his throat, neck flushing with embarrassment, “You got the goods?”

He was as skinny as the flagpole with string-bean looking straight-backs and a face crowded with freckles and acne scars. The young boy was drowning in his off-brand, Spider-man sweats and beat-up Jordans. He was a middle-man between the fifth-graders and the younger students, often serving as a mediator during disputes and facilitating the more high-value trades.

Demetrius turned to his ally, wiping his hand clean on his shorts.

Toussaint returned his solemn look.

The pair nodded, resolute in their decision.

Toussaint reached into his plaid book-bag, pulling out his bright, fuchsia, cat themed pencil case. He unzipped it slowly, holding it out to let the older boy take a peek inside.

Gregory A. Peters Jr. squinted as he looked in the pencil case before breaking out into a toothy-grin, braces glinting, “Holy shit, they really found a Cyber Dragon—“ he said, turning towards his friends excitedly, the other boys clamoring to get a better look.

Before the boys could get a look at the card, Toussaint hastily re-zipped the pencil-case, snatching it away with pursed lips. Gregory A. Peters Jr. looked annoyed, but Demetrius stepped in front of his ally, puffing his chest, only his scowl visible from underneath his afro.

A beat passed before Gregory A. Peters Jr. sighed, waving them off, “Right, right, a deal’s a deal,” he agreed, dropping his book-bag to the ground and rifling through the mess of loose papers.

He eventually found what he was looking for, “This--!” he declared, pulling out what appeared to be a video-game controller rather dramatically, “This is the test Bruce Banner uses to rank geniuses! My brother…borrowed it while he was on the road for work.”

Demetrius perked up, leaning closer to the device, “Who’s Bruce Banther?”

Toussaint’s eyes only narrowed, grabbing his ally’s shoulder and pulling him back to his side, “How does it work?” he asked instead, looking skeptical at the device.

“I’dunno,” Gregory A. Peters Jr. shrugged, “Do you want it or not--?”

Toussaint and Demetrius exchanged a prolonged look. Then, Toussaint unzipped the pencil case again, plucking up the card and extending it towards him.

Gregory A. Peters Jr. eagerly snatched up the offered card, tossing the device towards them in exchange which Demitrius easily caught. Not long after, he scrambled away waving the card around proudly as the rest of the boys chased after him.

Demitrius fiddled with the device, somehow finding a way to switch it on-and off.

Toussaint watched over his shoulder, “How are we going to get them to both take the test?” he asked, brows furrowed, “My Tati leaves this week.”

“Oh that’s easy--” Demitrius flippantly said, a toothy grin spreading on his face seeing the hologram flicker from the device, “C’mon--” he said, eyes fixed on the device as he led the way towards the jungle-gym, his ally following close behind.

Across the playground, Riri watched the boys duck into the jungle-gym.

Across town Shuri finally finished signing all of her paperwork and reached for her phone to order lunch.

And in that brief moment they both respectively shivered.

-

“Ugh-fuckin’ hell,” Riri hissed sharply, stubbing her toe on a doll with the consistency of a fucking cinderblock. Seconds later, the lights cut off for the third time that evening, leaving her clutching her foot in the dark--just her luck.

It was her late day. Friday’s were always her late day. She had been grading papers and prepping her lessons for the next week. Since she taught the summer camp kids during the day and tutored the SAT/ACT students most evenings, this was one of the few times she had to get this shit done.

Even then, she had planned to leave thirty minutes ago. Yet, she was still here. She could not for the life of her find her fucking keys or her phone and naturally she came to this realization after everybody had left for the day.

All the office phones were down, service down, the encroaching storm only getting worse by the second. That alone made the idea of trying to use public transport a no-go. The buses in this area were already unreliable and shoddy and walking wasn’t feasible unless she wanted to get doused in the entire Atlantic Ocean.

Riri hobbled to the floor, easing against the reception desk as she steadied her breaths, trying to ride out the pain. The lobby lights were off, only street lights and the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the room. Outside, the rain fell in sheets, the torrential pour leaving the outside world a smear of nonsense. Even if she could call someone, it’d take them forever to get through that mess.

She does not get paid enough for this shit.

Riri dragged a hand down her face, listening to the rhythmic fall of the rain. Think--think--thinking, eyebrows furrowed deeper with each passing second.

The only conclusion she could arrive at was that she was not sleeping here. Despite her instincts telling her the best choice was to hunker down, she had that undeniable, festering itch to leave. The idea of being in this building for a second longer made her sick to her stomach and--

Thoughts coming to a halt, she looked up.

She thought she was hearing things, but there it was again--that sound. A light tapping against the door, a figure she could just barely make out through the glass.

Riri slowly rose to her feet, hobbling over, hesitating as she stopped in front of the door. Squinting through the glass, her eyes widened in recognition and she quickly unlocked the door.

Shuri was thoroughly drenched, a massive splash of water entering with her as she crouched through the doorway. Face slick, scattered raindrops slipped down the planes of her face and curls. Shuri stepped inside, her eyes darting about wild, “Am I too late? ” she asked, with a pensive frown, thunder rolling soon after her words, the building shuddering from its touch, “Did I miss it?”

“Huh? What are you--” Riri shut the door behind them with great effort, the hinges creaking as it slammed. She pressed her back against it, biting her lip and trying to process their appearance, “Why are you here so late?”

At her question, Shuri’s frown only deepened, “Isn’t there an event to…” she trailed off, realization flitting through her eyes. They sucked in a bitter breath, casting her a weary glance, “There’s no event today…is there?” she asked, although it seemed as if she had deduced the answer already. She tugged off her soaked sweatshirt and hung it around her neck. Now she was left in a clinging tank-top with an off-colored, turtle graphic slapped on the front.

Riri squinted at her, looking her over, taking her in--casually of course, “Nah, the only event is that fuck-ass-storm,” she said, folding her arms, head cocking, “What’chu think was happening today?”

“The… camp graduation ceremony,” Shuri answered, biting her thumb as she looked around--as if trying to catch sight of those non-existent decorations, “I knew I couldn’t make the ceremony, but I promised I’d be there for the reception and cleanup--”

“It's not until a few-weeks from now," Riri notes, catching how their jaw ticked, a slight tenseness that you wouldn’t catch if you weren’t paying close attention--and she was paying attention.

“I see that now,” Shuri said, muttering to herself in a language she couldn’t pinpoint. She pinched her nose, eyes closing as she thought, “My nephew must’ve misremembered the dates --”

Riri slowly approached, stride only broken by the occasional limping, “The graduation isn’t for a few weeks from now….All the kids know this, ” she said, tone edging with doubt.

 

Normally she wouldn’t have second-thoughts about kids misremembering. Shit happens, but Toussaint’s memory was scarily good.

He clung to dates, to numbers, to hard facts like it was second nature. Sure, he got stuck in his head sometimes and that made lessons more difficult, but once he knew something--he knew it. He hardly made the same mistake twice and he certainly wouldn’t have forgotten the date of something he was reminded about at the end of every session.

 

Shuri must’ve realized this as well, because she quickly pivoted, “...I must have misremembered then,” she suggested instead.

 

It was rather admirable how she refused to assume the worst. It was almost cute, if not a little infuriating seeing as the truth had been sitting on their noses the whole time.

“You didn’t.” Riri said pointedly.

The pieces fell into place all at once as she considered her very bad-awful day and all the events that it comprised. Individually, it was nothing to bat an eye at. She’d be rich if she had a penny for every time she lost her keys and phone, but she tore up the whole damn building and still couldn’t find them. Combine that with the suspiciously good behavior from the playground and Shuri’s curious appearence and...

“That… scheming…little brat--” Riri hissed under her breath, nostrils sharply flaring.

Shuri shot her an incredulous look, but Riri paid them no mind. She walked to the other side of the receptionist desk. She eased down to the ground, crawling underneath the desk and grumbling to herself as she fumbled in the dark, searching.

“Care to fill me in—?” Shuri called out, head tilting as she watched the other woman fuss.

Riri staggered to her feet, hefting a large tool-box up with her and dropping it on the counter with a thump, “Demetrius.“ she offered, shortly. As if that explained it all. She fiddled with the lock, occasionally stopping to tug up her cargo pants every time it sagged too low on her hips.

Shuri politely, pointedly averted her eyes, “Demetrius?” she echoed, not quite understanding.

“He’s my nephew. Got a lil-body, big ‘ol afro, even bigger head--” Riri raised her arms, spreading them wide for emphasis, “He gets it from his daddy. The head, not the hair--” she explained, with a serious expression before her attention returned to the lock. It popped open soon after and she hooked it around her finger, spinning it around as she spoke, “Sometimes he gets to thinkin’ and then shit like this happens.” She tossed the lock aside and pushed open the box, peering inside. She squinted into the dark before cursing under her breath.

“...And what exactly is happening?” Shuri asked, leaning over to look inside too.

Shuri frowned immediately.

“You read comics?” Riri asked instead, picking up the note inside the tool-box with a faint scowl.

“Occasionally.”

“Demetrius reads them. A lot,” Riri murmured, scanning the crayon before rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She passed the note to Shuri, “He thinks he’s the damn riddler.”

Other than the note, the tool-box was completely empty of any particularly useful tools. While she hadn’t gotten around to teaching her nephew how to hot-wire a car--thank the fuckin’ big man for that-- he had guessed correctly that would’ve been her next move if she couldn’t find her keys in a timely fashion. He was even luckier in a sense that she wouldn’t try some stupid-shit like that during a storm anyways.

Despite her less than stellar explanation, Shuri seemed to be following, “So this is a…game he plays?” she flipped over the note, eyebrow lifting, “How often does he do this?”

“It used to be every-other week, but he talks to a real nice child-specialist nowadays so it only happens every-other month now,” Riri said. She scanned the desk and caught sight of the infernal device in question--a sticky-note and that all familiar handwriting cheekily saying, ‘Play Me’

He even had the audacity to sign it with a smile.

Riri ignored that odd wave of deja-vu falling over her, turning towards her fellow captive, “You got a car?” she asked, but she was already heading towards the door.

“Yes, but aren’t we going to--” Shuri followed behind her without thinking, vaguely gesturing in the direction of the device. Although she wasn’t fond of being…played with, she was intrigued to find out if it did what the child claimed it did.

Riri barked out a laugh.

 

She’s done this song-and-dance before with men far more influential then her nephew, she wasn’t about to entertain any of that nonsense.

There was a rather simple solution to their little issue.

The boys clearly wanted to get them in the same spot to settle their argument. Kids were capable of a lot if you gave them a chance, but at the end of the day, they were still kids. Their little plan had holes all over. Riri could’ve ignored the note and waited until morning. She could’ve left early and not even seen the damn thing. But the most glaring flaw was tjat they thought of a way to keep her trapped here and a way to get Shuri here, but forgot to find a way to stop her from leaving with Shuri.

Riri stopped abruptly, the other woman almost running into them. She looked back, sending Shuri a wiry smile as she tucked her braid behind her ear, “You gon’ give me a ride or nah?”

Shuri blinked, mouth twitching a little, “...Yeah,” she cleared her throat, hand rubbing the back of her burning neck, "Of course."

It was rather embarrassing. Shuri hadn’t even had a chance to ask the woman if she’d seen her own note or had intentionally ignored it, but all Riri had to do was bat their little eyes and….Shuri found that she didn’t much care what had happened.

Riri was in front of her and that’s all that mattered.

And right now, Riri’s smile only spread, tongue peeking out from in-between her tooth-gap, “Thanks--”

Both women stiffened at the sound of thunder, a flash of lightning illuminating the space all at once. It was stark, bright, frightening--then gone all at once. That comforting blanket of darkness returned, but now there was indisputable tension in the air. They knew that this peace was short lived at best if they truly wanted out.

Shuri grimaced, unwinding her sweatshirt from around her neck and ringing it dry one last time for good measure, “Don’t thank me yet,” she murmured, eyes straying to the storm raging on outside, “Any chance you have an umbrella in here?”

Riri matched her expression, shaking her head.

Shuri kissed her teeth, squinting out the window, “C’mere,” she said, gesturing. Riri hesitated for a moment, before doing as she was told. Her breath hitched as Shuri raised her jacket above them both.

They both leaned in close--to the door, to each other. The darkness hiding their nervous glances as their hips bumped and breaths stuttered. Another crack of lightning came--then went. The women braced themselves for what came next.

Then Shuri--or maybe it Riri-- finally pushed open the doors, the pair sprinting into the storm.

Notes:

listen,,,listen,,,listen a lot was going on okay....but im here. im back. im here to step up and provide for this household again...

anyways, i've somehow survived and completed my thesis AND graduated [fuck that school, fuck that professor, fuck the bursur AND finaid, but everyone else is cool] [thank u everyone for the well wishes <3] still employed, moving out rn, and most recently i am, in fact sick and that delayed things a bit too, but that's just a temporary weakness.

since we are in fact getting ironheart, a note. this entire fic, including the unpublished sequel was written a year prior to the release of the ironheart tv show. i can make edits as i receive information, but i can't do too much now.

if you've noticed, i've changed the chapter count for the fic cause i've split this update into two chapters for narrative impact

thanks for reading, go watch the iron heart trailer, and stream ironheart june 24 <333

Chapter 3: twa

It only takes a second.

The rain enveloped them--cold and demanding. Wind cutting into skin. Each step slipping, frantic. Their bodies staggered from the force of the wind as they raced across the parking lot. Shrieks and choked, fear-riddled laughs were swallowed by the storm. They circled the car--quick-- fumbling with the door and climbing inside.

Riri slammed the passenger seat door close. She sunk into the seat, breathing heavily as she collected her thoughts. Heart jumping, blood hot--body fighting against the bone-deep chill that was only worsened by her clinging, wet clothes. Around her shoulders, the stolen sweatshirt hung limply. She pulled it closed around her body, trying to salvage some warmth.

Shuri pressed her head against the steering wheel. She let out short puffs of air as she caught her breath as well.

Outside the rain poured on, unrelenting.

After a moment, Shuri finally raised her head, finally taking note of her companion. Riri was attempting to clean herself up. She raised the bottom of her tank-top and wiped her face clean. As she did, raindrops darted down the divots of her strong, lean stomach, skin dewy--almost glowing.

Shuri swallowed, mouth dry. She moved to turn on the ignition.

Riri exhaled, rubbing at her sore neck. The sound was soft, careless. Shuri committed it to memory. Riri let out another gasp as the heated seats switched on, completely unaware of the other woman's turmoil. Her eyes stuttered closed, relishing that comfort, the hum of the engine--that new car smell, before they reluctantly opened again.

Riri sent Shuri a curious glance. That turtle graphic t-shirt was drenched and didn't leave much to the imagination. Miss turtle more-so resembled a sad, misshapen rock now. Shuri's hair was slick against their forehead, making her resemble a wet cat.

Riri flipped down the mirror and saw she looked no better. She snorted. Once, then again, breaking the silence with her slow-building, hiccupping laughter. That sound--soft, then not. She laughed with her whole body, clutching her stomach, shoulders shaking.

Contagious. So much so that Shuri found herself laughing as well, sides aching, body terribly cold, yet her heart was warm--relieved.

Riri wiped a tear from her eye, “We--we look ridiculous,” she said, making a half-hearted attempt to stifle her snickers.

“It is a rather ridiculous situation,” Shuri agreed, clicking her seatbelt on. She was unable to stop herself from glancing over every so often.

The urge was almost novel. Sneaking looks, trying to see if her heart would quicken each time--it always did. She wondered if it would ever stop. Puppy love--that’s what they call it right? If Riri disappeared, would this feeling leave with them? “Are we certain our nephews hatched this nefarious plan and not some other conspirator?” Shuri asked, only half joking. She swept back the curls from her face, frowning into the mirror, although it more-so resembled a pout.

“Nobody else would have the audacity."

Shuri let out a breathless laugh, a small, pleased smile on her face. She slowly pulled out of the parking space, “Feel free to pick to pick the music,” she offered, attention shifting to focus on the road.

Riri obliged.

She navigated the screen on the car's dash with ease, picking her way through the menu. She had quickly decided against the radio, poking around on the music streaming services instead. That's when she stumbled on what appeared to be a never ending collection of playlists, “Damn, you made all these yourself?” she asked, faintly impressed as she mulled over the titles and genres.

Xavier loved music, but going through his playlists was like playing Russian Roulette for her ears. The titles—vibe—and mixes were good, but they were entirely based off his own internal set of logic. Shuri seemed to take a more straightforward approach. The other woman wasn't picky—her music taste eclectic, spanning across many genres. The playlists themselves were well curated—the title, mood, and songs all neatly encompassing the decided theme in an efficient, but thoughtful way.

“I travel quite a bit,” Shuri explained, squinting out the window as she watched the cars pass, waiting for for an opening, “Making them keeps me busy without the hassle of actually being busy.”

Riri nodded, understanding the feeling.

That was what a lot of her tinkering early on was like. A mindless, compulsion to create. It was meditative in a way, seeing an invention only through screens and then spending an afternoon picking it apart. Building it anew all in her own garage.

She shooed away that lurching feeling she always got thinking about that time of her life. She clicked on another playlist. The name caught her attention, it read like a half-formed poem. It was rather...romantic.

“You made this for your girl?” Riri asked, finger obnoxiously hovering over the playlist title for emphasis.

Shuri glanced over, then did a double take, “—No."

Not very convincing.

Riri decided to try again, “Does anybody think they're your girl? Any fiancé, wife, or co-parent I should know about?” she more pointedly asked, scrolling through the songs featured in the playlist. Some were more relaxed, others a little playful, but they were all slower, sensual songs, fitting the title well.

Shuri looked amused at her interrogation, “Not at the moment, no,” she said, then tacked on, “I’m single. I assume you are too, right?”

Riri hummed in affirmation, before another thought occurred to her, “So,” she started, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned across the center counsel, “You be fuckin’ to this playlist, right?”

Silence.

Riri’s eyebrows raised to her scalp, a wicked grin stretching across her face, “—So I was right.”

“…Shut up,” Shuri muttered, neither confirming nor denying it.

“Then again, I’m always right—“

“Where am I taking you, again, Ms. Williams?” Shuri curtly interrupted, grateful that the heat gracing her cheeks wasn’t visible.

“Oh, so I’m Ms. Williams now, huh?”

“Uhuh.”

Riri thought this over, “I kinda fuck with it,” she decides.

“Of course you do,” Shuri said, rolling her eyes. She then inputted the offered address into her GPS. She decided not to comment on how Riri ultimately chose—that playlist. The music filled the car, tension ebbing away slowly, “Toussaint mentioned you went to MIT,” she said, conversationally.

Riri exhaled, folding her arms and leaning against the window. She watched the raindrops race down, her eyes lingering on the water pooling at bottom, “I attended for a while, yeah,” she answered, dryly. For some reason Demetrius was obsessed with hearing stories about her time there. He was always telling everybody about it.

At that, Shuri sent her a side-long glance, hesitating before asking, “What’d you major in?”

Riri closed her eyes, pressing her head against the window--attempting not to groan, “Guess.”

“Was it….” Shuri made a show of thinking, clicking her tongue as she smoothly changed lanes, “Economics?”

Riri snorted.

“Oh then what about, “ Shuri hummed, before gasping like she had a revelation, "Theatre Arts.”

“I don’t even think I can carry a tune,” Riri muttered, equal parts baffled and amused at the suggestion, “Those your guesses?”

“No, no I have one more--” Shuri said, sounding far too invested in the game, “Mechanical Engineering.”

A far more serious guess, but it was still--

“Wrong,” Riri said without batting an eye. Although she hated this game, she was a little pleased to see they were taken aback, “I did AeroAstro,” she supplied, with a bitter smile. She turned away from the window, tucking her legs underneath herself, “Though you weren’t that far off. I almost did Mechanical Engineering, but I changed my mind last minute,” she picked at the invisible lint on her seat, “My folks thought Mechanical Engineering would give me more flexibility in the long run--just in case I changed my mind, but….” she sighed, feeling a little silly remembering her reasoning, “I always wanted to be an astronaut…go to the moon and all,” she trailed off, lost in thought.

Shuri’s expression softened at her admission, “Do you still want to?”

Riri blinked, startled, “...What?”

“Do you still want to go to the moon?”

And at first, Riri wanted to laugh, but that quickly dissolved once she realized how serious the other woman was being, “--Uh I got bills to pay. Doesn’t really matter what I want anymore.”

“I don’t agree,” Shuri said, annoyingly blunt, “And… that wasn’t what I asked. Do you still want to go to the moon?”

“What? You gunna take me there?” Riri shot back childishly.

“I’d rather see you get there yourself.”

Shaking her head, Riri scoffed, “You have no idea what I’m capable of, you barely know me,” she said, snippy. She fiddled with the strings of the sweatshirt, briefly wondering if it was too late to tuck n roll.

Shuri was either unaware or completely unbothered by the ire directed towards herself. Her thumbs slid alongside of the wheel, absentmindedly tracing circles, vaguely in sync with the music, “I know a few people who were in your graduating class and they had nothing but good things to say about you and your work,“ she said, hesitating before adding, “Apparently you’ve lived a fairly interesting life. I’m--jealous they got the chance to know you so well.”

“...You’re not missing much,” Riri deflected, but she couldn’t deny the kernel of…pride.

What did they say? What did they say that made Shuri so damn interested in her? She couldn’t deny the fact that she was curious. She wanted people talking. She wanted it so badly it fucking hurt, but she’s grown content with the background. With sitting, festering--a ghost waiting to join the world of the living.

“Just humor me then,” Shuri said, gentle as ever with her words, “Do you still want to go to the moon?”

Out of spite, Riri didn’t want to answer.

She wanted to let them sit in silence. She wanted to drop the whole thing. It didn't matter. It didn't matter because she failed. She didn’t even get her degree, didn’t even get a chance to walk. It didn't matter because she can’t even blink towards a blow-torch without the feds beating down her door. She can’t do shit or plan shit without it being the government's business. And without that—her inventions, her plans, her legacy —she was nothing.

She didn't matter.

But Shuri still treated her like she did and as much as it pissed her off, she craved it—desperately. She coveted that attention and wanted to hold on tight.

“—Nah, it’d be too easy,” Riri said, caving in to the urge, the impulse. She stared out the window, hard. She watched the rain fall even harder, hoping for even a second Shuri glanced her way again, “…But it’d be a start.”

-

The hardest lesson in life to learn was when to call it quits. Everybody and their mother wanted everything to be possible, but sometimes what you wanted just wasn’t possible in that particularly moment. And today was one of those moments.

Despite Shuri’s best efforts, it was fucking impossible to navigate the storm. The wind blowing trash everywhere, that slip ‘n slide ass road, the fuck-ass traffic. Roads were blocked off, people were using their ass cheeks to steer and their earlobes to signal, and all in all it was a nauseating headache to endure. They weren’t even close to Riri’s family home.

And worst part about it—Shuri was trying. She was trying so hard it hurt to look. If the woman was anything, she was persistent,

“We might need to pull over at some point,” Shuri reluctantly admitted, brows knitting together in concentration. The windshield wipers weren’t doing shit.

“That’s fine—“ Riri's face scrunched up suddenly. She sneezed into her elbow, body shuddering hard.

She winced, pulling the sweatshirt around her tighter, but it didn’t do much. She was warmer then before, but she was still soaked to the bone. That perpetual chill gripped her body tight. She tried to hide it, but it was clear it was overstimulating. She'd been picking at the fabric and fidgeting with increasing fervor.

Shuri frowned, “...But it’d most likely be best if we find somewhere to get dry and wait it out—“

Riri’s mouth twisted at the suggestion. She didn’t want to deal with hotel surge prices.

“My flat is close by, you can stay there until the storm dies down,” Shuri offered, then belatedly tacked on,“—if you want.”

Riri blinked surprised and found herself nodding in agreement. It was the most reasonable solution, but why was she….hesitant?

It went beyond the typical reservation you’d have from being stuck in a strangers home. She was comfortable with Shuri and she certainly was easy on the eyes. This could end up going pretty well, so why was she so nervous then?

Riri chewed at her lip, sneaking glances at Shuri. She scrutinized that mess of emotions inside. First— that warm, fluttering feeling. Strong jawline, rich, even skin that she now knew was as soft as it looked. Nimble hands, clean cut nails, long fingers. Then—there was that craving. That need to be closer. To puff up and impress them. That urge to slide her hand across the counsel, trace their pant leg, squeeze their thigh and sink her teeth into their—

Riri blinked hard. She cleared her throat louder than intended, missing the confused look Shiri sent her way. She bit down on her lip harder, tasting copper as she searched deeper, but was frustrated each time. At the bottom of that well—curiosity, infatuation, lust—were nerves. It was like touching a too hot stove—like shaking her lungs in water desperate for air—like everything all at once.

It was too much. She kept grabbing and scanning the feelings, but she couldn’t identify any of what she touched.

Riri decided to redirect her attention to Shuri. They were a stranger, but the longer she’s around them, the more it feels like she’s known them forever. It didn’t feel like a mystery trying to guess how Shuri feels about her—about this—because Shuri never hid it.

Shuri was attracted to her. She was interested. She thought Riri’s life was interesting. She entertained the flirting, but she wanted to get to know more. She wanted to ask her annoying questions and pry and pick at Riri’s mess of a past and—

That felt distinctly more serious then a hook up. Thinking on it--she hadn't felt this way about the prospect of a casual date in a long time.

It was then she had recognized where they were driving. The streets getting wider and cleaner, the buildings taller.

Noticing this, she came to a realization immediately.

Riri knows how Shuri feels. She knows their intentions, but—-

She hardly knows anything about Shuri.

She brushed off the nice clothes, the nice car--anyone could have credit-card debt nowadays, but the apartment? That was harder to fake. It was the type of area you had to be 'comfortable' to live in. What did she even do for work? Did she work? Why was she interested in Riri? She was someone with an admittedly eyebrow raising past, but virtually no prospects. She wiped boogers on the regular and helped kids get into programs to be far more successful then her—it just. It didn’t make sense. It was a fleeting feeling after all. If it came fast, it would leave just the same.

Even if she does get a date out of all of this—it could all end with that. It didn’t immediately mean commitment, it didn’t mean a relationship, but….

There she found something else. That drop in the dark, a burgeoning feeling so small you could miss it, but it was there underneath the noise of emotions.

That hope for more—it made her sick.

 

Notes:

me????updating on time???? but yeah heads up the next chapter is a smidge....a bit...longer so it might take a minute to edit.

i feel like this entire chapter was just the two of them making eyes at each other but its cause i gotta slow this flashbang ass romance down somehow yall. riri will attempt to beat the wlw uhaul, long distance stereotypes but she might lose who knows.

anyways thx for reading <333 stream ironheart june 24!

Chapter 4: kat

Steam rose, a thick cloud of scalding heat that left her skin pleasantly flushed. The showerhead let out a steady stream, the pressure kneading the deep ache in her body.

Riri rested against the dark, bathroom tile. Suds dripping, a rag limply hanging from her hand as she succumbed to her mounting fatigue. Every bone, every muscle was heavy. The weight hanging from her skeleton was ready to drop into a useless pile at any second.

She was so fucking tired.

This was the longest day of her life. She couldn’t even manage to be properly pissed off at her nephew. A lethargy had taken hold of her in the lulling silence, leaving her mind slow and meandering.

Shuri is nice, she decided.

The thought was succinct and unintrusive. A reality she was slowly becoming comfortable with the more she considered it.

She didn’t know a lot about Shuri, but she knew enough. She was annoying. Nosy yet reserved. Corny as fuck. An odd, quiet intelligence about them that she couldn’t pinpoint. It made her want to pick at their brain some more, figure out what made them tick.

All things considered, there were worse people to be stuck with. There were worse people to be interested in. At the very least--Shuri was remarkably normal.

…A little too normal.

This was…too easy.

Riri learned it the hard way, nothing in life was easy.

Time and time again--there was always a catch. And when it came to romance? It was always a shit show for some reason or another. Usually she was the reason. It was a rather pessimistic outlook, but it was her outlook.

There’s no reason why this time would be any different.

Riri squeezed the rag out, letting it bite her skin. The rush of water hitting the shower floor, rattling, each drop deafening. A sharp crack against her skull. The heat nauseating, crawling under her disgustingly pruney fingers. As if she needed to peel her skin from the muscle to shake off the feeling.

Nostrils flaring, her stomach lurched up her throat. She fumbled to turn off the water, pushing through the glass sliding doors into the cold air. Hastily, she dried herself off with a towel, rubbing her skin raw. Discarding the towel, she grabbed the lotion on the counter, slathering it on.

Moisturized, she could breath a little easier. She studied the neatly folded pile of clothes set aside for her on the counter. At the moment, her clothes were still soaked so Shuri so graciously offered her own.

She re-tied the silk-scarf around her head, tucking a stray piece of hair away. She grabbed the basketball shorts and t-shirt, sliding them both on. She sighed, eye bags and a frumpy pigeon graphic glaring at her in the mirror. She tried not to think. She couldn’t help but think. Those clinging doubts multiplied everytime she quieted them, leaving her mind ping-ponging. Swinging between nausea and unadulterated satisfaction.

Riri rolled her shoulders, the shirt snug.

Technically it was fine, but nowadays she usually sized up her clothes for a more comfortable fit. Her sister had picked up weight-lifting as her hobby a while back, so during her days off Riri was often forced to keep her company. She didn’t lift seriously, but she did often end up spotting her sister and fucking around the gym until she was allowed to leave.

Absent-mindedly, she picked at the collar of the shirt, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. Impulsively she pulled it up to her nose--curious. The scent wasn’t overpowering--light, crisp. A clean smell that had a lingering sweetness that was undeniably Shuri. She sniffed again, indulgent. Eyes closing briefly as she sighed, cheeks lit aflame as the shame dug its teeth in, mixing in with the burgeoning giddiness.

She stopped herself from doing it again, patting her face quickly to snap herself out of it. Cleaning up the sink and gathering her dirty towels and clothes, she headed out the door.

That only confirmed that she was most likely the red flag in this scenario. Shit job, shit attitude, all around creep apparently. If there was something between them, there was no way it would work out.

Riri rubbed her arms idly as she shuffled down the hall, stewing in her thoughts.

Plain walls, hardwood floors, tall ceilings, yet it was a minimally furnished space. Nice, if not feeling a little empty. The living-room was relatively large, a dark, leather couch and gold-trimmed, glass coffee table dimly lit by the flickering T.V and the occasional bursts of lightning from outside.

Shuri had her arm thrown over the back of the coach, quietly speaking into an earpiece.

Getting closer, she could see a few plates had been set up, filled to the brim with an assortment of foods. Drizzling sauces spread across wide-cut noodles, generously plated with richly seasoned vegetables. Honeyed meats paired with perfectly shaped, buttered rolls. She couldn’t name all the sides littering the table, but she did know that it had her name written all over it.

Riri’s stomach growled, the smell reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. She was running late like always. Skipping breakfast and not having time to make lunch. At most she managed to scrape together nasty, break-room coffee before morning roll-call, a few sugar packets during nap-time, and an elderberry gummy from the custodian--Jimmy-- during afternoon pick-ups.

Noticing her approach, Shuri looked back, leather creaking, profile unbearably soft. Without hesitation, she quietly ended her call, turning in her seat. Arms folded across the back of the couch, she rested her chin on her hands, the dark-ink of her tattoo, stark, “You should wear this more often,” she comments, a stupid grin spreading across her face. They had already cleaned up, hair curled close to her face, shrunken from the rain and making her sharp features more pronounced--almost feline like.

“Should I?” Riri asked, rolling her eyes. She leaned against the back of the couch, resting her weight on her hips.

Shuri rested on her cheek, eyes squinting up, amused, “Of course, your stylist has outdone herself,” she said, laying it on thick with an overly-exaggerated English accent, “Look at it, no look closely. These colors are spectacular, the cool tones of the pigeon feathers bringing out the subtle warmth of your features and the silhouette--” her eyes strayed as she spoke, shamelessly checking her out, “Well it speaks for itself--”

Riri sent them a flat look, chewing on her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling.

Cute.

Shuri was cute.

She pushed off from the couch, hands fidgeting with her shirt as she eagerly inspected the spread of food, “So….you cooked all this?” she asked, conversationally as she plucked up a roll, turning it over in her hand before tearing off a mouthful. She paused, stomach rejoicing, before she quickly devoured the rest.

“I’m afraid I’m not that impressive,” Shuri admits leaning on her hand as she watched them eagerly plate their food, “There’s a place by my office that I usually stop-by for lunch. The woman who works there gives me extra--that's why it's rather excessive,” she explained, picking up her un-capped soda and taking a swig before adding on, “I think she’s trying to set me up with her nephew.”

“Fuck that,” Riri said, nearly moaning as she swallowed another mouthful of noodles, “You need to see if she’s single.”

Briefly, she wondered if she was being disgusting, but Shuri didn’t seem to mind, only handing off another plate when Riri had overfilled her first one, “I take it you like it?”

Riri swallowed her next mouthful, delicately patting her face clean with a napkin, “It’s aight,” she nonchalantly said, grabbing the other bottle of soda, uncapping it and taking a swig of it before letting out an exaggerated, blissed out sigh, “But all food is good food to me.”

Shuri looked slightly put off by that answer, mulling over this, “Do you have any favorites?”

“Free.”

Shuri’s face twitched, ever-so-slightly. Irrationally irritated for a split second, but she got over it. That answer was even less helpful, but she decided to take it at face value and…figure out the rest later. She picked over her own bowl, inhaling the rich aroma the herbs gave off, “Mine is this soup--or broth my mother used to make me when I got sick,” she offhandedly shared, “She always made it far too strong, “ she said, nose curling at the memory, but a softer look followed, “--but it always made me feel better.”

Riri’s fork hovered over her bowl, idly prodding her food as she listened, “My mama used to bribe me with candy to get me to take my meds when I got sick. I was a nightmare,” she said, with a far-off look, she hesitated briefly before adding,”My step-dad though, he’d always sucker my sister and I into swallowing a spoonful of mustard to ‘clear the sinuses' whenever we got sick. ’” she rolled her eyes at the thought, food suddenly tasting bitter.

“Oh, I’ve heard of that trick,” Shuri said, nodding her head sagely, “My father would have my brother snort a handful of spices.”

Riri blinked hard, slowly turning towards them dumbfounded,“That’s such bullshit--”

Shuri held up her hands, defensively, “It's not--and It worked, I swear,” she said, with a breathless laugh. She was more or less telling the truth, although she wasn’t privy to the concoction itself. All she knew was that the aftermath was a rather disgusting affair, but the pictures were humorous and she was fond of bringing them out during parties.

“Did you ever have to do it then?” Riri asked, skeptical.

“No of course not,” Shuri said, shaking her head at the thought alone, “I have a delicate constitution,” she drawled before leaning in close, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “Whenever he tried, I’d pretend like I was going to hurl… or he’d suddenly get called out for work…. or birds would appear in the halls. So he always had to drop it.”

Riri shot them a look, pointing a fork at her, accusatorily, “You were a terror,” she declared.

“I was resourceful,” Shuri corrected, eyes lit up with poorly concealed mischief, “It isn’t my fault my brother couldn’t lie to save his life.”

“But--but birds though?”

“Sometimes it was little frogs,” Shuri offered, like that was any better, “My father was scared of those--”

Open mouth, gaping. Riri closed her eyes, eyebrows furrowing. Then, she opened them again, head damn-near sideways as she stared at them, “You were tearing that island up, weren’t you?” she said, shaking her head.

“I was no-” Shuri paused her defense, briefly confused, then quickly remembering Nakia’s cover. It was easy to forget when she was with Riri, so she’d need to be careful. However, that doesn’t mean she needed to conceal the entire truth, “I wasn’t raised in Haiti. My brother moved when Toussaint was born to be closer to Nakia’s side.”

“Oh, an international terror then,” Riri said, filing that information away without question, “Where y’all from then?”

“--Wakanda.”

“Oh that's--” Riri paused, surprised, “--far.”

She didn’t know much about the country despite it being the talk on every news channel throughout the years. It’s gained a stronger and stronger foothold internationally for its breakout discoveries in healthcare and science, but otherwise people hardly knew anything about it or its people.

“...Is that a problem?” Shuri belatedly asked, probing the silence before it stretched on for too long.

Riri tried to shake it off, but that creeping feeling returned again. As if something was out of sight, but all she had to do was turn her head to see it, “Of course not,” she said, “What brought y’all to Chicago then?”

“Oh, I’ve been traveling for work,” Shuri explained, relaxing a little, “I’m overseeing the construction of the newest--”

Riri nodded along, trying to listen aptly as they explained the project. A research facility dedicated to the community as much as it was to the sciences. In any other situation she’d be excited about it-- despite her inability to contribute--but today she only felt numb.

Disappointment fell over her in waves as she slowly pieced together the bigger picture. Shuri enthusiastically described each city--each country--each continent they planned to expand the program to.

Shuri was nice.

That thought remained true, but another one quickly followed.

Shuri wouldn’t be here long.

Chicago was another passing dot on a map. A checklist to mark off before she hopped to the next place. To bigger, brighter things.

There it was, the catch. Victory--the taste of it was cruel.

Those bitter thoughts, that skeptic finally proven right.

-

Riri stared hard.

She didn’t care much about the movie, but she refused to look anywhere else. She was curled up on the far side of the coach, lips set in a thin, unwavering line as she staunchly looked forward and nowhere else. She couldn’t look. She wouldn’t.

If she did look, it’d only be that much harder to distance herself from Shuri.

And if she got closer to Shuri, all hell would break loose. She’d catch feelings. She’d fall and fall hard. Soon enough she’d either be forced to reject them and be stuck crying her eyes out or be stuck in a long-distance relationship--crying her fucking eyes out.

Fuck that.

Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.

She would not let that shit happen. She was not strong enough for that. Even worse would be the break up, because of course they’d break up. Then she’d be stuck crying about someone who was half-way across the world, living any scientist’s wet dream while she was stuck doing fuck all--alone. And she’d be so fucking stupid to think it’d work in the first place and—

She watched the movie aptly, only daring a glance across the room every-so-often to look out the large windows to see if the storm had finally let up.

It didn’t.

It only seemed to get worse.

Broken tree branches from who knows where and cherry-red city bikes were being blown like discarded cans. It was some Diana Ross, silver-heel clicking, flying-monkey type shit. She wasn’t risking that any time soon.

So the movie.

She only needed to watch the movie. Clean up, sleep, sneak out in the morning, and quit her job immediately. Even when Shuri leaves, she can’t risk Nakia having any more of her fine-ass family members coming by.

In theory, her plan was perfect, but in practice it was a mess.

One—the movie was weird.

Weird as in unbearably horny and nauseatingly long. It was the type of movie that made you want to look away from second-hand-embarrassment alone.

Two--Shuri was staring.

That unnervingly, unwavering, wide eyed, stare. It was like she was being silently picked apart. The intensity alone made her squirm, but knowing it was Shuri made its heat unbearable.

Riri’s nostrils flared, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold out.

She couldn’t.

“What—?” Riri blurted out, breaking the silence.

Shuri’s head tilted, “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

“No—no, of course not,” Riri said, squeezing the couch cushion, tight.

Shuri rested her hand on her palms making no moves to even pretend like she was watching the movie, “You’re bad at lying,” she quietly notes.

“No I’m n—” Riri bit the inside of her cheek, irritated, “I’m not lying.”

Shuri popped a piece of cubed pineapple in her mouth, looking off, “Lying again,” she muttered, unconvinced.

“I’m not—“

“—You are.”

“You don’t know shit,” Riri said, cutting them off with a huff. She stabbed her fork into her bowl, hitting crumbs. It was empty. She didn’t even notice she had finished off her food and she felt a little cheated by her past self. She frowned, setting the dish aside.

“I know enough to know that you’re bad at lying,” Shuri said, not letting up, “Your eyes always give you away.”

Maybe Riri didn’t have to worry about catching feelings after all.

This woman was aggravating. Shuri doesn’t even know her, but she’s making all these bold ass claims. Poking, prodding, staring with her beautiful eyes—it was evil. This was a weapon formed to prosper against her—

Riri opened her mouth to protest, but stopped short, suddenly self-conscious. Did she really have such an obvious tell when she lied? Instead of complaining, she pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her forehead, “...Shut up,” she muttered.

Shuri snickered, tossing another piece of fruit into her mouth with a smug grin, tongue flicking out.

Riri’s eyes followed the movement.

Shuri caught some of the juice that escaped her mouth as she ate another piece of pineapple. Then she met their stare, eyebrows raised, a knowing look on her face. She ate another piece, swiping the excess juice around her mouth with her thumb and licking it pointedly.

At that—Riri bit her lip. Hard. The apples of her cheek were round, mouth smiling without her permission. Ears warm. Body disgustingly hot.

Riri hid her face in between her knees, but she couldn’t help but sneak a glance their way—then another.

-

Shuri’s canines were sharp.

She smiled easy, cheeky—dangerous. Her eyes were lethal, catching every detail and pinning down exactly what to say to get a response. She could tease a brick wall successfully if she was willing.

Riri was a prime example of that.

Every time she tried to freeze the woman out, they’d find a way to slip past her walls.

It was infuriating.

It was disorienting.

Her body was responsive in a way she couldn’t entirely control--the pull of gravity too strong. And she was slipping. She was trying her damnedest not to lose focus--to keep her feet on solid ground, but…it felt good.

Shuri was annoying--nice--remarkably good.

It was an intangible quality that irradiated from her, a charm that danced about her fingertips and spread to whatever she touched. An attentiveness that she had always suspected of being a farce, but so far it was genuine.

Shuri didn’t feel real, but she was--she was here, and for some unknowable reason she was looking at Riri.

Riri’s hand flew to her mouth, a hiccupping, snort--ugly in every way--escaping. She desperately fought off a laugh for what felt like the trillionth time today. For some reason she couldn’t stop laughing around them. A silly, fluttering feeling that seemed to explode from the slightest comment from Shuri--and Shuri, well.

Shuri could not shut up.

The weird-ass movie finally reached its climax--literally and figuratively. Its absurdity climbing to heights so indescribable that it almost circled back around to being poignant. Almost. If she paid more attention to it, maybe she’d be able to appreciate its artistic sensibilities more, but she was otherwise occupied.

Shuri was talking like always.

“What are they thinking?” Shuri muttered, shaking her head with what could only be described as a grandmotherly level of disdain, “They can’t be thinking. It’s impossible for one person to be so….ugh,” Her head was resting in one hand, tipped to the side carelessly. Her other arm was draped across the back of the couch, a breadth away from Riri’s head. She squinted with disapproval at the screen, nose curled, a petulant scowl on her face. It was oddly endearing with its trivial, unadulterated judgement.

Riri wanted to--she needed to. She wanted it in her mouth--on her mouth. She liked it when Shuri was nice, but she really liked it when they were mean. It was--she was--she wasn't explaining herself, actually.

Riri refrained from sharing any of this. Instead, she cocked her head, “You wouldn’t eat your girl out in a crypto-truck to save the world?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, scandalized. In the corner of her mouth she was chewing on her straw absentmindedly, her legs haphazardly thrown across Shuri’s lap.

Riri was cold. She was always cold. Shuri had the blanket and did not offer it despite her otherwise impeccable hosting. Neither of them commented on this arrangement.

Shuri lifted her eyes, unamused, “You mean the trash can on wheels?” she clarified, disbelieving. Her hand was settled in the crook between Riri’s thigh and calf. Her fingers occasionally ran down the length of skin, rubbing pleasantly along her sore muscles without much thought, “You’re asking if I’d risk my partner contracting tetanus, so we can get freaky in the skeletal remains of a porta-potty?”

Sucking in her teeth, Riri pretended to mull this over, “...You can put a towel down,” she suggested with a shurg.

Shuri straightened up, mouth agape--eyebrows permanently furrowed. Riri only raised her eyebrows further, which only prompted Shuri to blink hard, shaking their head, “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly,” Riri said, lying through her fucking teeth, “It's to save the world.”

“It’s--it's ridiculous.”

Riri pointed her chewed up straw at them like a microphone, “So…lemme get this right. The world is going to blow up,” she stated matter of factly, punctuating each word with a sweeping gesture, “Boom. We all could die a fiery, terrible death. But, you….you could stop all that by fucking a fine-ass Black woman in a---admitedly--overworked Barbie convertable,” she glanced around as if puzzled, popping her straw back in her mouth before sending them a a skeptical look, “And you wouldn’t?”

Shuri stared at her for awhile before she let out a lengthy sigh, “Well, when you put it like that, it does make a--degree of sense,” she begrudgingly admitted, before tacking on, “But you’d have to agree to it first for it to work.”

It took a second.

The blanket flew up. Shuri barked out a laugh, easily blocking the kicking legs, wrapping her hands around each and trapping them.

Riri struggled to break free, “You never quit, always got some slick shit to say--” she squirmed valiantly as she complained. As she did so, her shirt rode up slowly as Shuri slowly dragged her closer so she was fully draped across her lap, blanket falling to the wayside and all false pretenses as well.

“It is for world peace,” Shuri said, looking awfully smug.

Riri snatched her shirt, yanking it down with a defeated huff, “Shut up,” she muttered, glaring at the ceiling. Flustered by the proximity, her words--everything was terrible and distracting.

She shivered as their palm slid along her calves, the light drag of her thumb nudging the muscle—soft, lingering every so often when she encountered the odd scars scattered across her legs. Like thin, stars bursting, crackling the dark skin with its erratic pale streaks. You couldn’t really see them from a distance. Time was kinder to her then anything, but they were obvious up close. The scars were strange looking to anyone with eyes and two brain cells to rub together.

Shuri didn’t say anything. Even if it was clear that she was studying the oddly shaped scars, she never voiced her questions.

Riri wasn’t sure if she was terribly polite or….waiting. Putting the pieces together slowly, but surely. She made no attempt to hide the fact that she’s been poking around Riri’s past. Asking colleagues that she notably never named. Mentioning past projects Riri toyed around with, but never published,

Even if her questions were relatively tame, they were pointed. She stumbled into the few sore spots left over from the past so... easily it couldn’t be coincidental. It was like she knew what she was looking for, but that was ridiculous. .

Shuri couldn’t know.

Riri was—she was paranoid, that's all.

Overthinking.

Or maybe she wasn’t thinking enough.

She didn’t know much about Shuri, afterall. She knew they were well connected. Vaguely wealthy. Most likely highly-regarded since Wakanda rarely lets anyone come and go so easily.

There was a good chance they could’ve ran in similar circles.

Investors— high-profile scientists and researchers tended to attend the same events. Research circles, chat rooms, talking engagements, charities events, and galas. The degree of separation could be smaller than she initially assumed. As if they could’ve met sooner—like they should’ve, but for some reason they never crossed paths.

Riri didn’t know much about Shuri—nor Wakanda, but that didn’t mean Shuri didn’t know Riri or her work. Even if it wasn’t the whole story—rumors had wings and could spread farther than you could imagine.

It made her stomach churn thinking about it. The not knowing—the knowing.

She wasn’t sure what she wanted to be true

She wanted Shuri to know. And— she didn’t want her to know. She wanted her to ask. She didn’t want her to ask. She wanted her to ask. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted someone to ask. To sit with what she had to sit with all these years.

That pulsing, neediness, to finally be seen again—it ate at her core.

She missed it.

The rush—the chase for the stars and all the faces looking up at her and nowhere else. Knowing that she could make something that made the nasty years worth it—something bigger then great—greater then the greats— something—

Iconic.

That old scab, she wanted to see it light up red.

Riri shoved that thought back into the hole.

She could not fall back into those habits again.

In an effort to distract herself from the rat-race in her head, she wiggled free, reaching for the bowl of puff-puff. She had already finished off her own bowl, devouring the sweet, deep fried dough in seconds, but the bowl in front of Shuri was still untouched.

However, before she could snatch it up, the bowl disappeared in front of her eyes.

Riri’s brain briefly faltered, head slowly turning.

She didn’t even see them move.

Shuri pointedly held it out of reach, “You’d steal the food right out of my mouth?” she asked, sounding properly scandalized.

Riri took a moment, glancing between the bowl perched in their hand and the empty space on the table. Damn, she’s exhausted. She decided to ignore that, sending them a flat look, “You’ve hardly touched it.”

Shuri was an erratic, but painfully slow eater. She picked off nearly every plate, but took an eternity to finish anything she grabbed.

By the time Shuri had grazed half the table, Riri had stacked and devoured her own plate an embarrassing amount of times. Even then, it was apparent Shuri had been avoiding the dessert. At most, she nibbled on the fruit.

Riri was not going to lose this battle.

She slid close, thighs brushing as she moved to grab the bowl.

Shuri leaned back, calmly extending her arm to keep it out of reach, “That doesn’t mean I haven’t touched it,” she said, grinning down at them.

Riri lifted her chin into their space, narrowing her gaze, “You’re over there eatin’ like a granny,” she said, not missing how their eyes widened ever so slightly when she got closer.

Unintentionally, Shuri fell quiet, the silence palatable. A slow moving giant--invisible, but pressing. Sucking the air between them. Leaving her stranded as she struggled to piece together words. Every language falling short on her tongue, unable to think of anything but the freckles falling around Riri’s eyes and the cocky lilt of her mouth--so close to her own.

“No,” She managed to choke out, that broken whisper faint. As if she was out of breath. She tried again, gathering what remained of her dignity, “I--I eat at a reasonable pace. You, however, eat like a fiend--”

Riri’s eyes were fixed on the bowl, body leaning into their side, “I’m growing.”

“--You’re in your twenties.”

“And you’re pushing thirty, what about it?”

Shuri’s eye twitched.

This…brat.

Shuri was not letting her win.

Riri cracked the barest of grins, as if hearing their thoughts, “You should be investing in the health and happiness of the younger generation,” she said, barely concealing the laughter from her shaking voice, “Uplifting the Black youth and all--”

Shuri snorted, “We are…. in the same generation, Ms. Williams,” she tried to sound annoyed, but there was a desperate fondness that always seeped out when she was around the other woman.

It was getting harder to keep…. everything under wraps. Every time Riri had ducked out of her shell, Shuri couldn't wait to see if what she'd learn next--every sliver of vulnerability--gold. A crooked smile, a stifled laugh, a strangely charming story. She wanted to know what it’d feel like to be wrapped up in the woman’s voice and ached for the next touch, wondering if it’d be the last.

Now that she thought about it, why was she trying to hold back anyway?

Shuri untensed, head tilting as she studied them.

All eyes on her--it was addicting. Riri found her body drifting in closer, comfortable under their scrutiny. Their attention lapping at every corner of her mind, making it hum, pleasant.

Maybe that’s what she liked.

The reason she kept gravitating towards Shuri--the attention. She hasn’t done the relationship thing in awhile. There’s no way she could do it now even though she wanted to--she didn’t want to. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She only liked the chase. The thrill. The knowledge that she could still catch someone’s eye. It was the same urge from before, just different--safer.

Shuri was most likely the same, she decided. There’s no way she actually wanted anything serious. Riri was overthinking earlier. Thinking too much into her intentions--her actions.

Shuri was…nice.

That's all.

Attentive. Thoughtful. Charming. Witty. Funny.

Good--too good.

She wasn’t an unbearable asshole, but that didn’t mean she liked Riri in any way that mattered. There wasn’t much to like about Riri, afterall. They weren’t in Chicago for long, so it only makes sense that they wouldn’t be taking it that seriously. Maybe she only wanted a bit of fun and…

Maybe if Riri let it happen--then it’d be over just as fast. And then she could move on without any feelings being hurt.

Riri steeled herself, accepting this reality, but for some reason her heart still rattled. Thick in her throat, bloodying her words. Seconds ago breathing was so easy, but now she faltered. She decided to ignore it.

She smothered her nerves.

“If you really wanted it--” Riri said, biting her lip as she looked between the bowl and Shuri, “You would’ve eaten it already.”

Shuri was having difficulty thinking.

It was a slight shift, but it caught her attention immediately. Riri’s moods came and went, flitting between a spectrum of faces--each one more interesting than the last. But this--this was different.

She wanted something.

There was an intensity to her focus that wasn’t there before. As she slunk into their side, into her space. She cocked her head just so, looking up through her lashes. Those dark eyes--singing. It left her disjointed, hesitating, gasping for the next snatch of air.

As if something tangible, out sight, but not out of reach, dangled in front of her--waiting.

It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time--it felt good.

Discovery was a beautiful, complicated, misunderstood process. People often fixated on the mythical end goal, but she enjoyed it in its entirety.

Shuri was utterly enthralled by what it took to become the person who could stand on the edge and take the plunge. What captivates a mind enough to justify the risk? What would make you walk away--hesitate?

Why did Riri Williams make her freeze? Out of all the people she’s met and will meet--why did this feel different? Why did her heart shake, anticipating the drop, while her body shied away? What was she scared of discovering? Something new about herself? About Riri? Something else entirely?

Was she even scared or was she--?

Riri’s nose twitched, a small, innocuous movement, but Shuri found herself--

Captivated.

By the moment, her, and everything beautifully strange about their circumstances.

Shuri swallowed thick, “....I’m savouring it,” she murmured, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

It’d been awhile since she’d been with someone where there was no pressure, no overhanging goal, only two bodies and the thoughts they tended.

It left her wondering, wanting, wishing in a way that felt nostalgic.

A bright, fuzzy warmth. A piece of home she hadn’t known she lost sight of; those early mornings dozing in the sun as she watched her brother train with her father. She’d watch their shadows dance across the courtyard for a long time before she grew restless for her own turn.

Sometimes she’d interrupt their sessions, most times she’d find other ways to amuse herself.

Sneaking off to the markets and haggling with the shop owners for no good reason and wheedling her guard to find her snacks. She’d chew away, unthinking, as she wandered about aimlessly dreaming of her next project and taking in the sights. Occasionally she was distracted by the sound of beads rattling--children laughing away as they kicked their leather-ball through the streets.

She wanted to handle each second like it was precious. It made her stop and linger, holding on, unwilling to let go.

Shuri missed what Riri said next, the soft rasp of her voice making the heat pool in her gut. When did she get so close? The sparse inches between them--burned. Disappearing with each blink, the air between them smelling sweet--familiar.

Belatedly, Shuri realized the scent was her own.

Riri smelled like her--and oh, fuck.

Shuri enjoyed that a little too much.

There was that softer feeling--fragile, new, and breathtaking.

But her physical attraction had been there since the beginning. An uncomfortably persistent, pulsing rawness in her chest that wasn’t cute in the slightest.

Riri in her clothes, in her flat, smelling like that--it only made her greedier. Shuri wanted to mark her all over, see how deep the other woman would let them take her.

And it appeared as if Riri was determined to pick away at her carefully crafted self-control.

Breath tickled Shuri’s ear, easing her out of her daze into a much kinder reality. Strong thighs stretching, couch creaking as Riri balanced herself over their lap, propping herself up on her knees.

The position left Riri a little taller--for once--forcing her to lean down, flushed against Shuri’s chest, steadying her arms on their shoulders as she spoke, “If you wait too long,” she said, voice trailing off as she played with the collar of their shirt, hands inching closer and closer to skin, “You might miss your chance--” her hand shot up, snatching the bowl limply hanging from Shuri’s hand.

Riri launched herself off the couch, cackling as she escaped.

Snapping out of it, Shuri was on her feet in an instant. She rounded the couch with long strides, attempting to grab them, but had little luck.

Short, sputtering laughs filled the living-room as Riri darted about, trying to protect her stolen goods. Climbing over cushions, scrambling precariously around the corners of the coffee-table, popping a puff puff in her mouth with each twist and turn.

Riri tossed the last treat in her mouth, skidding to a halt in front of the patio windows. She tucked the bowl close to her chest, swallowing quickly. Her cheeks hurt and she nearly choked while trying to catch her breath, unable to stay serious even as the other woman stalked towards them.

Riri flashed them a small smile, hands fidgeting with the bowl as she watched them approach.

Shuri sent them an unimpressed look, “You owe me, Ms. Williams,” she said. She pressed one hand flat above their head, leaning against the door and cornering them.

A sudden shyness struck Riri and she looked off, avoiding their gaze, “Do I?” she asked, her nervous laugh petering out as Shuri cupped her cheek, thumb ghosting her skin gently, drawing her eyes back to them.

Shuri’s eyes reminded her of the night sky.

Exhilarating and all-consuming in its mysteries.

A breathtaking honesty that compelled you to get lost taking in the sight. Like an old memory you couldn't help but keep playing.

It reminded her of those times. When she’d get stuck on a project and her Step dad would take her on these spontaneous trips. One time he drove her, Natalie, and a few of the neighborhood kids out of the city, far into the dizzying corn-fields and never-ending night.

They blasted oldies the whole way there, eating burnt-smores and guzzling neon, sugar thick slushies. He’d find a place to pull over and let them climb onto the roof of the car so they could count the stars. She’d lay on her back, dozing off--the smell of marshmallows and the sound of kids laughing drifting over her sweetly.

Riri’s heart fluttered, a soft release that made her tremble like a fawn--utterly unequipped, “It’s…it’s been awhile since I’ve…” she half-heartedly explained, equal parts distracted and self-conscious.

Shuri pressed their foreheads together, noses bumping. Her eyes squinted, a little amused, “You’re in good company then” she reassured.

That whisper of a kiss was far too good to be true.

Thunder rolled, distant, as the bowl clattered to the ground. Strong arms hooked around Shuri’s neck, keeping her close. Riri’s hands slid against the back of her head, fingers rubbing her scalp indulgently, deepening the kiss without delay.

A dizzying embrace, those mounting desires crashing over them all at once. Persistent and through, Shuri licked into their mouth, teeth nicking her lips, but she didn’t notice. Riri shivered and sighed so beautifully. So responsive and vibrant. She was everything and more, all in her arms. In that moment--she was all hers.

Wrapped about her, the hum of her throat buzzing under her skin. Fingers tangling, dragging, tugging her and refusing to let her go.

Tasting copper and hearing the glass door creak under her hand, Shuri remembered herself— reeling back immediately. She pulled away with much difficulty, eyes glossy, “Ri—ri,” she said, weak as she was almost drawn back into another kiss, focus shot every time her breath dusted their lips, “We should slow down,” she suggested, deciding that it was too bothersome to get the door fixed.

At that, Riri nodded a little, “I can--we can,” she blinked, tongue tied, “We can go slow,” she said, breaths ragged as she leaned her forehead against their shoulder, sounding weak, “Slow’s cool.”

“It was that good, huh?” Shuri said, breathlessly laughing, endeared by how flustered they were. Her hand rubbed along their throat, circling the mole there, in awe.

Riri’s nose rubbed against them shamelessly, “Ugh, shut up,” she weakly grumbled against their shirt, “Don't you ever get tired?”

“It is getting late,” Shuri agreed, ignoring the complaints altogether, “If you're available this weekend, we can...continue this another night. I know a place and can get a reservation--”

Riri lifted her head, brows furrowed, “Like a date?” she asked.

Shuri hummed in confirmation, stealing another kiss, quick, heart all-that lighter.

It was easy--sinking into the moment, into her kiss.

As if she was in free-fall.

It was too easy.

Riri exhaled, sick all over as her carefully crafted reality shattered.

A date…why would she…? What…was she doing? She wanted--she didn’t want--fuck she wanted it, didn’t she? It was a truth that surged over her, sweeping her feet from underneath and dragging her out into the mess that was her head. But she couldn’t, it didn’t make sense.

There was the long-distance, a constant creeping threat, but there was something else.

Something far more damning.

Shuri wanting her like that, it was bound to end badly.

Riri always fucked over good people.

As long as the earth turned, she’d attract disaster. She was far too much trouble to justify the effort. She could want romance --the dates, the intimacy, the love, but that doesn’t mean she should indulge. It doesn’t mean she deserved any of it--does it? Flirting and dreaming was easy in theory, but the reality? Seeing Shuri’s face, so earnest and open--undeniably hopeful, she realized she needed to get a grip. She knew she’d only disappoint--it was--it was--

It was selfish for her to try. It was selfish for her to string Shuri along for this long, knowing it wouldn’t end well. She had to--

Before she could say anything, the power cut off.

Darkness blanketed them, the distant flash of lightning illuminating the space. Fragments--fluttering eyelashes, soft lips smiling at her like starlight, and gentle hands reaching to pull her closer.

In the safety of the dark--of her arms-- Riri blurted an answer without thinking. Words rushing out, fragile and panicked.

It was easy, so easy--too easy to say, but the thunder was louder, swallowing her voice in its roar.

Notes:

....i survived.

so i split this chapter up because it was kicking my ass, then it doubled in size after that, so it took a minute. also, the total amount of chapters are about to change because i keep adding things smh. I'm still responding to comments btw but ao3 started glitching out after I answered a few so ill try to get that soon!

its been so fun writing an unabashedly fast romance especially with dealing with how different shuri and riri are responding to their feelings lol. like on one hand, shuri chill out you've known her a week. but also riri chill out and just kiss her like damn.

anyways thx for reading <333

Chapter 5: senk

Summary:

i trap u in riri's head for forty years with no escape, the chapter

Shallow, stuttering breaths filled the quiet of the apartment.

In. Out. In--again. It didn’t help in the slightest, she was on the cusp of losing her fucking mind.

Riri hissed, air cool in her throat as she inhaled sharply. Nipping teeth scrapped over her hip bone, the pinprick stings quickly soothed by an attentive, wet heat.

Shuri’s tongue disappeared before it reached her waistband, lavishing the valley of Riri’s abs instead. Sloppy and indulgent as she made that long, treacherous journey up her strong stomach. The shining spit catching the few, erratic flashes of light from the outside.

Riri’s thighs trembled, desperate. Aching, pulsing. She couldn’t even rub her legs together to stave off the worse of it.

Shuri had slotted between her thighs. A hand squeezing the supple curve of her hip, pressing her into the counter while her other hand held the thickest part of her waist. Her thumb dug into the soft meat of her side, unconsciously squeezing as she held her still--steady, yet demanding.

As if she required the utmost attention.

She was a woman that could not be ignored, not even for a second. It was disgusting how Riri found a new sensation to be enamoured with completely. That pudge of her nose, how it pressed and slid along. A scant if not teasing touch that soon made way for her tongue, then teeth.

Shuri always saved those featherlight kisses for last, a laugh not far behind. Hoarse, quiet, slow-building, but bright. On occasion she’d sigh wistfully.

As if relief was finally found.

Shuri treated each taste, each touch like a delight and her fervor easily spread, infecting Riri with her good mood.

Every detail was amplified by the darkness.

It did grant her some reprieve since she couldn’t see what Shuri was doing. Simultaneously, it drove her mad because she couldn’t see any of it.

No, instead she must endure the noise, the touches, the smells. As if she was trapped in a dream that left her strewn out in the worst ways imaginable. Painstakingly real, yet so inconceivable it felt out of reach, out of body.

Riri didn’t know how she ended up like this.

She had been lost in thought trying to figure out a plan of action. She helped pack away the left overs, stumbling around in the dark with the grace of a baby seal. She kept running into Shuri. It started innocently enough, shoulders brushing, hips playfully bumping together, a hand on the small of her back as they moved past.

At some point, those brief touches lingered.

And…Riri’s shirt was discarded.

Trimmed short nails dug into Riri’s side, her stomach clenching. Her mouth dropped open, gasping as Shuri’s tongue circled her nipple, before latching on. Dragging a ragged moan out of her as they pulled off, then on, then off again. The shorts bursts of pleasure, tumbling together, leaving her burning.

A hyper-alertness that strung her along, chasing that storm.

Lapping up the sweat in the shallow valley, starved. Shuri palmed at her chest, long fingers rolling her nipples. Their hands easily covered her breast, cupping and fondling away without much thought.

It left Riri equal parts devastated and infuriated.

Her head snapped back, almost hitting the cabinets. She definitely knocked over the cat-shaped salt and pepper shakers into the sink. Her hands scrambled for purchase as she leaned back on her forearms. Biting her lip, she tried, but failed to stop the high-pitched whines from escaping.

Shuri had been quietly amused by her efforts. She ran a finger under the small swell of her chest, before experimentally pinching her nipple. Riri let out a small yelp. Shuri smiled against their skin, pleased, “So sensitive,” she noted, filing that observation away for a later time.

She wasn’t in any rush, taking her sweet time like she was about to sit down and break for tea or some shit.

Taking advantage of her pause, Riri caught her breath, “Mmm, I use…” she closed her eyes, trying to remember what she was trying to say, “Used…used to have them pierced, but I had to take them out be--fuck--” her back arched uncomfortably against the hard edge of the counter, her hands flying up, burying into their scalp as Shuri doubled her efforts.

Riri held onto those three scoops of hair for dear life, weakly making attempts to tug around their big-ass head, “Fuckin’ tease,” she grumbled, “Treatin’ me like a damn--oh.” All at once, her voice went weak, legs buckling, but they held her up, “Oh, Shuri, fuck--”

Shuri raised her head, “Sorry,” she mumbled against their mouth, lips twitching up. Cheeky motherfucker was smiling so hard Riri could feel it in the kiss. The messy, wet slant of her mouth making her head spin, saliva dribbling down her chin.

“Liar,” Riri said, muffled.

Shuri hummed, mouthing down Riri’s throat, “Let me make it up to you,” she whispered, teeth following the slope of her neck, making them shudder. Her hand had looped around Riri’s waist, thumb dipping into the waistband of the shorts. She stopped short—waiting for a response, but another thought occurred to her and she glanced down surprised, “Wait, you’re not wearing--”

Riri stiffened, suddenly remembering, “Don’t,” she hissed back, mortified.

She intended to put them back on after letting them dry some more--unable to let the wet fabric touch her skin without feeling the need to hurl, but she was… distracted.

Now she was more than aware of this growing issue. Thighs pressed together, tense. The slightest movement making her--

“If I had known you were so prepared…”

“I didn’t--that's not, ” Riri stuttered, face hot with shame as she rushed to defend herself, “Everything was soaked--”

“Everything?” Shuri asked, breath ghosting the shell of her ear, “Promise?”

“Ugh,” Riri rolled her eyes, but her stomach twisted hearing them laugh away at their own joke.

Even now she was silly in a way that made Riri’s head quieter.

Meandering, gentle, yet undeniably bright. As if everything else fell away and there she was at the center of it all, waiting to pull her along.

It’s been a long time since Riri had been romantically involved with someone, but it’s been even longer since she felt like—that.

Like she was a kid again, stuck in a world that was far brighter—far kinder.

There had been brief, passing moments. On occasion, her students would light her up. More often, it was her family and her handful of friends filling those scattered pieces wherever she could fit them. But, she never knew how to be the type of person they used to know. She couldn’t help but compare herself, wondering if they missed that version.

That younger, better Riri. Full of ideas. Dreams so bold, intertwined with her beating heart. A wild, wide-eyed passion, that shouldered the weight of her fears even when she struggled to take another step.

She believed she could do anything--become anyone back then. She was successful, sought after, reckless, and unreliable. There's a reason she wasn't like that anymore.

She had to be different now. The people in her life got used to it. Didn’t question her new habits, her aversions, but she always suspected they kept their judgements closely guarded for the sake of her feelings.

Bringing someone new into her mess, letting them peel back the skin and bear witness to everything, was daunting. A new level of self-consciousness made her hyperaware of how strange of a life she lived.

A scientist with an aversion to science. An adult sequestered away in her family home with no outstanding expectations for the future. Going between work and home, only on occasion being dragged elsewhere.

She had the regimented habits of a hamster trapped on a wheel.

It was embarrassing.

There would undeniably need to be a change if she was going to fit someone else in her life, but that idea was odd. It sounded like making an uncomfortable squeeze into a shape she’d never stepped into before.

She wondered if she could try it. Being a whole person and not bits and pieces of secrets, seclusion, and resignation cobbled together into a half-functioning shell.

The idea was heavy, a boulder in her lungs that refused to be displaced, but she didn’t know what to do with it. She couldn’t--it wasn’t--she wanted. She wanted it so fucking badly it hurt.

But… it doesn’t matter what she wants.

Riri needed to get away from Shuri.

The more time she spent with them, the more reasons piled up that she should be nowhere near them. It was too good to be true.

Riri’s hand slunk down the side of Shuri’s face, trailing the sculpted line of their jaw before cupping their chin and pushing them back, “Did you mean it, ” she rasped, the half formed thought leaving her lips without permission, “When you asked me out?”

“Of course,“ Shuri murmured, leaning into her touch. Soft shadows obscured the details of her face, but it left her no-less beautiful. That dim light dusting her silhouette sweetly as she turned into Riri’s hand, kissing the palm.

Something wretched buried in the pit of her stomach.

Riri swallowed, that wilted truth dying on her tongue. She scrambled for another excuse, “My schedule is a mess right now with college exam season coming up. A lot of new students, ” she said, the half truth, half lie sounding admittedly weak out loud, “I’m…not sure when I’ll be available.”

She internally winced at that.

What? Was trying to set up a doctor's appointment?

It was hard to find something to say that didn’t sound horrible in retrospect. She was thankful that she didn’t have to worry about them looking at her. Apparently she was a terrible liar and it was even harder to do under their scrutiny.

Shuri squinted into the dark, unable to pick out much from her face, but even then her words felt—strange, “I’m flexible,” she reassured, “Let me know what works best for you.”

“It--it might be awhile before I can---” Riri’s words stilted, awkward.

“There’s no rush,” Shuri said, pulling away to give her more space, “I can wait.”

A bitter taste in her mouth unfurled at that.

Riri couldn’t tell if she was irritated at them or herself, “You shouldn’t,” she said, tersely, fist balling against the cold counter.

“--What?” Shuri’s brain stalled at her statement. The change of tone making her eyebrows knit together, concerned, “But, I can--”

“Don’t bother,” Riri insisted, “I know you’re busy too. I don’t want to give you any more trouble.”

It was--careless, cutting through the once warm room, leaving Shuri feeling a little stranded.

“You haven’t troubled me at all. What are you… ” Shuri trailed off, stepping towards them, but she stopped when she felt them pull away.

Riri blinked, somewhat surprised as well. Mourning the distance and yet, grateful for it, “I appreciate the help and all,” the food--the clothes--the company, “And I’m sorry if I came off…Sorry. I know it’s—sorry. ”

She hugged herself, skin crawling. Every time she tried to explain it, all that came out were more apologies. Falling from her tongue, stale. The silence only made her scramble to find something more coherent. Something that sounded right, but it all felt tasteless--wrong.

It had only been a week.

Those rush of emotions were far too hot for so little time--right? She couldn’t date them. Casually. Seriously. It’d only end up going wrong, so it was only right to end it before it started.

So why did she feel so fucking awful?

Shuri’s face slowly fell as she took in her words, sifting through that odd atmosphere and finding the crux of the mess. “Riri,” she interrupted the other woman’s train of thought, careful to keep her distance even though she wanted--she wanted so much.

Maybe—she was too much.

“…Yes?”

“Do you want to make it work?” Shuri asked point blank.

It didn’t matter about the details. All she needed to know was that Riri wanted it. If she did, she’d make it happen no matter what. If she didn’t she’d—

“—No,” Riri bit out, voice strained, nails biting into her forearms.

Shuri exhaled, a little colder, bracing herself for the bite, “Then don’t worry about it,” she said quieter than before, “I understand."

Did she understand?

She didn’t ask for an explanation. Riri wanted to find one. She couldn’t. She wanted to reach out--reassure, but it felt more-so self-serving than anything to keep talking about it.

Stilted, uncertain they moved in the dark, cleaning up the rest of the mess. A pressing, palpable silence that only grew more uncomfortable the longer it went on.

All evening the rain had been bearing down on them, relentless, but it was only then that she felt its weight.

Those million little drops, once a gentle, forgettable wave that had no bearing on her, shadowed above.

Taunting.

It was as if it had been raining for days, not a few hours. An almost claustrophobic, tightness overcoming her body. As if she was stuck on all sides. Those unfriendly thoughts not letting up.

Riri searched around for her shirt as Shuri stepped away.

She should’ve been relieved, but she wasn’t.

A few doors opened, then closed. She pulled the shirt--Shuri’s shirt-- on wrong and had to turn it around. The tag still was uncomfortable. Scratching the base of her neck and making her skin crawl.

Shuri said something. She was quieter than before, a polite distance in her words that lacked the familiarity Riri had greedily grown accustomed to.

She wondered if they were hurt. She wondered if it’d be shittier to ask or not ask. It hurt, it really fucking hurt. Was this really necessary? It was painful, digging under her skin in a way she couldn’t ignore.

Killing was unnecessary, her brain provides.

It was something she used to abide by. A boundary that barely kept her head above water back then.

She never liked the messier jobs.

Blood. Death. Dealing out pain in any capacity. Unnecessary. Cruel. She had no right to determine someone’s fate like that. Yet, thinking back, she got most of her scars and injuries from those years. She still dealt with the pains, the aches, the surgeries.

Why was she always the exception to the rule? Why was this situation the exception?

Riri responded to Shuri. At least she thinks she did.

She vaguely accepted the flashlight passed her way. It was small, oddly shaped, but it produced a powerful enough light.

Shuri’s hands brushed over hers as she handed it over.

Warm, gentle, fleeting.

Riri wanted to fucking scream.

What did she expect to happen? She was at a loss. She got exactly what she wanted. No, she got what she needed. She didn’t want this in the slightest, but it was necessary. All pain was unnecessary. This was necessary. She followed their instructions to the guest bedroom, feet dragging behind.

It was easy to walk away--so easy.

The door shut.

Riri flashed the light over the room, vaguely making out the furniture. A dark, wooden bedframe, white bedding.

She settled onto it with a hefty sigh, body growing heavier by the second, but she didn’t make any moves to sleep. Her fingers traced circles into the sheets, eyes wandering to the cluttered, small bedside table.

A book was open. Pressed flat, the silver letters of 'Octavia Butler' glinting in the passing light. It sat on top of what looked like a tablet. A pack of gum hanging off the edge.

Riri frowned, turning the light on the rest of the room. Taking a closer look.

A round, organic shaped lamp was in the far corner of the room, a suitcase laying beside it. Slippers by the door. A headscarf and a moomoo balled up in a chair with a few museum pamphlets.

This wasn’t Shuri’s room, right?

As far as she was aware, she followed their directions, so it couldn’t be…Maybe Shuri was using it for storage.

Deciding she was over it, she switched off the light and crawled between the covers. She was tired. She was overthinking. She turned on her side, easing into its embrace, body sagging--greatful.

Riri inhaled, letting out a sigh as she rubbed her face into the pillow. A moment passed. Her nose scrunched up, mind whirring.

Riri’s eyes opened.

-

Shuri heard the bedroom door close.

She doesn’t know what she expected. It felt rather silly in retrospect. Riri had been touch and go all night, she knew that. But she thought—she didn't know what she was thinking. Maybe she wasn’t thinking at all and that was the root of the issue. Too many assumptions.

She got carried away.

Shuri folded her arm behind her head, the couch creaking as she attempted to get comfortable. She stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Playing and replaying the events of the night--the week-- in her head.

Scrutinizing every movement, every conversation, finding mistakes at every turn. Every time she was too close. Too familiar with her teasing, her touches. Yet, despite the reasons on reasons to explain her missteps, she was still confused.

Shuri bit her thumb, jaw clicking.

She was missing something.

Riri was hot, then she was cold. If it was any other person, this would be irritating. It was irritating, to an extent, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad. It only made her curious. She could see edges of it peaking through even in their most guarded moments. The carefully concealed pride, the careless hyper-competency, the sharp-tongue and even sharper mind.

Riri brushed against Shuri with little regard for how it set her aflame.

So as desperate as it sounded, it didn’t deter her interest in the slightest. She was fun. Interesting. Bringing out her more childish urges to see where this went. The process itself was the draw. Discovering her quirks, her habits, seeing her open up bit by bit. It felt good. She couldn’t help but chase the feeling.

Only now, she hesitated.

Then again, ever since she met the woman she’s been hesitating more often. Thrown off course by the intensity of her desires and what it might mean. Even more so by the stomach curling uncertainty that she might have pushed too far, too soon.

She might’ve overlooked something. She was missing something. She should sleep.

Shuri turned over, letting out a yawn.

She closed her eyes.

A moment passed, then she was on her feet.

She doesn’t know what she was thinking-- wasn’t thinking--was thinking of her.

And then, she was standing in front of her own bedroom door, unable to go any further. It was late. She was being ridiculous. It didn’t matter what she thought was happening. She couldn’t dig and hope to come up with another answer.

Riri made her decision and Shuri would have to take it at face-value and back off.

Floorboards creaking under her shifting weight, she steeled herself to walk away, but her feet were unmoving. Helpless.

The bedroom door swung open.

“--Shuri?” Riri called out, confused. The light switched on, illuminating the hall.

Shuri was briefly mortified. She squinted into the light. Thankfully, they moved it away so it only lit up their own face.

Riri leaned against the frame, shoulders squared--pensive.

“...Is everything alright?” Shuri asked.

“Uh…yeah,” Riri blinked, raising her head. Weary looking, the dark bags under her eyes were prominent. She rested her head and looked up at them, eyebrows bunching together, “Is this your room?” she asked, but it was clear she had already arrived at that conclusion. Shuri looked off and she sighed, starting to move past them, “I’m taking the couch.”

Shuri stepped in front of her, blocking her path with an incredulous expression, “Why would you take the couch? It isn’t comfortable in the slightest,” she protested.

Riri pursed her lips, looking at her sideways, “That’s why I’m taking it. “

“If you’re worried about cleanliness, I’ve already changed the linens and--”

“Shuri.”

“And I can adjust the thermostat--”

Riri touched their arm, redirecting their attention, “Shuri,” she said, tone softer, “The room is fine. You’ve been a perfect host, but you don’t need to put yourself out for me.”

Shuri's eyes were fixed on the point of contact, in an entirely normal way of course, “You’re nurturing the minds of our youth,” she said, distracted, “Your back needs it more than me.”

“Oh, so it's out a pity then?” Riri asked, unintentionally leaning closer, the tension in her shoulders easing.

“No, admiration--”

“Mhm, you’re full of shit.”

“I’d never be untruthful,“ Shuri murmured, the severity of her tone only making it more absurd when she tacked on, “About this.”

A snort.

Riri sucked in her bottom lip, looking away. A flutter, an ache. The combination took hold of her, swiftly. Making her lose her train of thought.
Bodies drifting towards each other, her touch lingered, not quite managing to let go yet.

Shuri swallowed, not wanting to interrupt the moment, but, “....What are we doing?” she asked, throat dry.

She wasn’t mad. She couldn’t be mad, but she was confused. Relieved, that she didn’t fuck it up entirely. That she didn’t imagine it, that there was something there. An indescribable, but beautiful something she was on the cusp of understanding, but couldn’t reach.

Shuri cautiously masked that slew of emotions as she studied them.

Riri braved a glance, immediately regretting it.

Those eyes did a number on her each time. Honestly it brought out the worst in her. Every selfish-little-impulsive thought springing up immediately when she had their attention.

Even more-so because it was her. Beautiful, well-intentioned, silly her--the list could go on. She needed to categorize every trait. Find a reason why this woman out of everyone else made her so unsteady. The more time she spent with them, the more she wanted. An insatiable curiosity that didn’t seem to have an end.

“I don’t know,” Riri admitted, voice breaking. Her thumb rubbing back and forth into their skin. That fragile vulnerability splintering, but not taking her out entirely, “Sorry.”

Shuri narrowed her eyes, “I don’t….think you are sorry,” she said, finally putting the pieces together.

What had been bothering her earlier were the apologies.

Riri didn’t look like the type to stumble over herself in that way. Her moods shifted--often. A tamped down turbulence that she couldn’t help but occasionally reveal. But there was always a resolve in her demeanor.

She swung between absolutes, yet now she lingered somewhere in between. Her actions, her words, conflicting, uncertain, even to herself. The apologies felt half-hearted, like she was doing it because it was polite, not because it’s what she wanted.

It didn’t suit her in the slightest.

At that, Riri paused, looking up slowly, wide eyed--caught.

She didn’t deny it, though.

Shuri decided to take a chance. Even if it sounded desperate, impolite, or strange. She needed to know, she couldn’t stand not knowing, “Do you want this to work?” she asked again, evenly meeting their gaze.

This.

The ever elusive, undefined this. She could’ve been asking about the date that’ll never be. Or the relationship they didn’t have, yet unbearably must tend to. It could’ve been anything.

They could be anything, it could be everything she dreamed of--or not.

Riri froze, mouth pinching, “Does it matter?” she muttered, unwavering at first, then she broke eye contact.

“Of course it matters,” Shuri hissed, temper flaring, but she tried to dampen it. Tried. Hands trembling, she covered theirs, “You don’’t have to date me, but at least be honest about what you feel--what you want. It’s like I’m imagining everything and it’s," her voice cracked before dying off. She looked away, mouth twisted—shoulders drawn in as if to make herself smaller.

Shuri looked—hurt.

Vaguely, she had considered that possibility, but actually knowing was—

“I don’t know what I want,” Riri whispered, a distinct hollowness in her chest making her step outside of herself. A strange disconnect as she reassessed. Peering back at that familar stranger and her words.

Shuri didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to, arching her eyebrow--disbelieving.

Riri sighed, “It's a--” her voice croaked and she cleared her throat, trying again, “It's a lot for me,” she managed, “The romance thing, it's not my….strong suit.” It got easier--or maybe it got harder--as she went on. She wasn’t sure, but the more she spoke, the more the words came, unhurried this time. The nausea bloating her tongue, but her mind was clearer than before, “It's easy at first, when it's all theory, but in practice--”

She was out of sorts.

Out of her depth, ill-prepared, and drowning.

A distinct, disorienting lack of control that made everything swallow her whole.

Possibilities flooding her one after the other.

If they liked her? How much did they like her? Would they like all of her? Why would anyone do that? Why should she expect any of that? What would the first date be like, the next? Then the next? Or would it not get that far? How would it end, would it even begin? Could she take it ending? Could she withstand a broken heart? Could she stand breaking theirs?

Realizing she was rambling out loud, Riri bit her tongue.

Shuri’s arms had wrapped around her at some point, pulling her close. Touch grounding. She was kind even now. Good—too good. Riri decided it didn’t matter. She’s already made a fool of herself, at least let her have this. “I’m a mess,” she muttered into their shoulder, hand clinging to their bicep, the other limp at her side.

“You are,” Shuri easily agreed. She jumped a little as Riri head-butted her shoulder repeatedly, grumbling. She chuckled, smoothing the curls at the nape of their neck, “But it's a part of your charm.”

“Uhuh,” Riri rolled her eyes, wallowing in the waves of embarrassment she was forced to endure. Everything prickling, disgusting, and uncomfortable and—

Lips pressed briefly to her temple, “It’s getting late, you should get some rest,” Shuri murmured, holding her for a little longer than necessary before pulling away with a sheepish look.

At least there was that.

Their relationship still wasn’t clear in the slightest. Even the thought of considering it a relationship made her a little uncomfortable, uncertain. But that wasn’t the only feeling there. There were so many feelings, which is why she’d rather pack them all away then try to deal with them all.

However, that wasn’t fair to Shuri in the slightest.

Maybe it’ll all go to shit, maybe it won’t. But it was happening. There was something there, even if she couldn’t tell you what it was or what it’d become.

She may come to regret it. Maybe her gut instincts were trying to warn her or maybe she was having some growing pains.

She’ll find out soon enough.

Snapping out of it, she realized Shuri had started to head back to the living room, but Riri caught her hand, “You are not sleeping on that damn coach,“ she said, with a huff, leading them to the bedroom.

Shuri let herself be dragged along, the light catching snatches of her growing, pleased grin, “Well, if you insist—“

The door closed behind them.

-

Riri truely, wholeheartedly intended to sleep.

She was an adult with adult responsibilities. One of those responsibilities being wrangling a class tomorrow, several group tutoring sessions for her SAT/ACT prep course-- and she was behind with grading their last practice test--and that stupid, weekly staff meeting.

Yeah, she didn’t feel like dealing with any of that yet.

Provoking Shuri should be easy enough.

Before the other woman even settled in on their side of the bed, Riri had sat up, leaning over. Hand innocently brushing theirs as she spoke into their ear.

It took a moment. Briefly, Riri wondered if she pushed it too far, all things considered, but she was asking for what she wanted now. In a way it was progress. Selfish, selfish progress.

Their eyes found each other, f in the dark. Poorly concealed humor and something far softer, rawer.

“You are…. an infuriating woman,” Shuri said, hand sliding around her waist without much delay and pulling her closer. The fabric rustled as it slid to rest on her bare hip.

Riri’s eyes briefly closed, committing the touch to memory while she still had a chance, “It’s a part of my charm, remember?” she said under her breath, looking up through her lashes.

The rain was pouring down as hard as ever. At this rate, it seemed it’d never let up. An explosive pressure, trapping them in this little slice of the world together.

Shuri tugged down the shorts in one, precise move. She cupped the back of their thighs, relishing each second as Riri rolled on top.

-

Oh this was…This… it was—that is.

Riri couldn’t think straight.

Blissed out, flushed against the bed, her legs hiked up. Deep, steady—painfully slow thrusts rocked into her with no signs of stopping. The building pressure threatened to flood her with each movement, thighs trembling under that searing touch.

She was everywhere. Overwhelming even at her gentlest.

Shuri was a talker.

Her voice, slipping past their defenses, soothing. Shuri liked pushing her--nudging her along, teasing out her body’s secrets. She wanted to know what Riri wanted. She wanted to know what she could take. She wanted Riri to prove she could take it.

It was a lot.

She was everything.

Riri’s fingers weakly twitched against the mattress, a syrupy, soft smile spreading across her lips as she basked in it all.

-

Eyes peeking over the pillow she was hugging, Riri tracked Shuri across the room as they rummaged through their suitcase, eyelids drooping as she fought off another yawn.

At that, Shuri vaguely turned her head in their direction, “You shouldn’t let me keep you up,” she said offhandedly. She pulled out two small, identical leather bags. She considered them carefully, weighing each in her palm before deciding on the one in her left hand.

“I’m fine,” Riri shot back without much thought. She was busy studying the nape of their neck, that long elegant line, lean muscles, and the scarification she could just barely make out.

The whole picture was hot.

She’d have to add that to the list. Things that inexplicably made Shuri unbearably attractive to her specifically. It was a long list. Voice. Hands. Nape. The waist was a given. She hasn’t worn a strap in awhile, but she’d love to get a chance to bend them over and fuck them properly--

Shuri hissed, clutching her foot from where she ran into her other suitcase.

“You good?” Riri clearly called out, half way sitting up to get a better look.

Shuri hummed, nodding unconvincingly. Unwilling to trust her mouth at the moment due to hearing all of that.

Riri was normally tight-lipped, but she was prone to talking to herself out loud on occasion. For every other person, she doubts they’d be able to hear much of it, but Shuri? Well she always hears everything nowadays.

She reached down to pick up the fallen leather sack, neck hot as she replayed the words in her head over and over. A particular itch she hasn’t had before making itself known.

She scooted the broken pieces of the suitcase under the bed to deal with later, before climbing back into bed and sitting between their bent legs.

Riri had slumped back, watching as they pulled out a jar, scooping up some of the thick cream on their fingertips.

Shuri began applying it to the inside of Riri’s thighs and legs. Deftly massaging it into her skin, but careful not to add too much pressure. The lavender scent made Riri’s eyes heavier as it drifted over her, the prickling, overtly-sensitive, dry skin being soothed.

Riri chewed in her lip, a flooding reverence breaking the surface, but she let it roll over her without casualties. She was getting more and more used to how they treated her, but it was still difficult. Clogging— she was stuck trying to reason with it, but ultimately found no answers other than the simple fact that Shuri wanted to do it. They both wanted it.

“What’s so funny?” Shuri asked, curious. Her breath dusted her skin before pressing a kiss onto the top of her knee, drawing circles in the softer, underside.

Squeezing the pillow tighter, Riri was lightheaded, “What were you saying earlier?” she blurted out instead.

Pausing, Shuri racked her brain, “You have to be more specific, I say a lot.”

Which was true. Shuri was a talker. She always had questions, little jokes here and there. Nasty promises and even nastier follow-ups.

Riri didn’t have the steam to think too much about how filthy their mouth was, it only made her flustered. Even more so because no one would believe her if she told them half of the shit that fell out of Shuri’s mouth.

On occasion, Shuri had slipped out of English, typically when she was more-so out of it. Riri could figure out most of it from context clues, but there was one word—or was it a phrase—she kept picking up, but couldn’t figure out.

“Oh, when I was—“ Riri hesitated, a shyness making her quieter as she remembered, “When I was on top,” she said, voice muffled as she hid her face in the pillow.

Shuri’s eyes shined, “Which time?” she innocently probed, all teeth as she narrowed in on them. She had set the jar aside, loosely wrapping her arms around their knees.

Riri’s lips pursed, sensing she gave them an inch too much, “Shut up,” she said, but it held no heat.

“You have to remind me, seeing as I’m so old,” Shuri teased, “The more detail the better. What were you doing?”

“Fuck off.”

Riri was not taking the bait. If she did—that’d only rile them up more. Shuri’s stamina was unnatural and Riri wanted to relax some more so she could properly enjoy it.

“Can you repeat it?” Shuri more helpfully supplied, seeing as they weren’t going to budge.

Riri mulled over the memory. Soft—slow—bits and pieces of ragged breaths and lingering kisses. How Shuri exhaled that word—then her name—then that word again. One then the other—interchangeable.

Riri sounded it out silently. Shuri watched her struggle, vaguely entertained until—

Riri said it.

Shuri’s eyes widened, body stiffening.

Catching that, Riri repeated herself, “What? Is it something bad?” she asked, uneasy at the thought. She wasn’t all that into degradation to be honest.

“It’s nothing bad,” Shuri reassured, taking note that her pronunciation improved this time, before deciding that detail was far too dangerous for her to latch onto, “But… I said that?”

“Yeah, a few times.”

“A few times—“ Shuri cringed, head hanging, mortified, “This stays between us,” she muttered, decidedly. She’d never live it down if anyone back home found out.

Riri’s mouth twitched, fascinated, “What stays between us?”she said, feigning ignorance.

“That word—“

“What word? You have to be more specific,” Riri said, throwing their words back in their face with glee, “The more detail the better—“

“It’s a pet name,” Shuri said flatly.

That admission only intrigued Riri further, “What? So it’s like babe?” she asked, but they stubbornly refused to answer. “…I can always ask Nakia—“ she yelped as she was dragged across the bed, her legs wrapping around Shuri’s waist, a quick forming habit.

“You will do nothing of the sort,” Shuri said, arms bracketing around Riri’s head as she pressed down into her—equal parts intimidating in her beauty and remarkably childish in her actions, “It doesn’t leave this room.”

“Mhmm, alright,” Riri relented, barking out a laugh, “But… I don’t mind it,” she shared fondly, “You can keep calling me it—if you want.” If Shuri said it wasn’t anything bad, then it wasn't anything to cause a fuss over. She did like how it sounded. Regardless, her attention was now fixed on the waist between her thighs, the slight pressure between her hips, and how Shuri’s bottom lip jutted out.

Riri squeezed her legs, holding on tight as they fell silent, a strange look on their face. She let the mood linger, enjoying the weight, the attention, before, “You gon kiss me or not?” she asked impatiently, arms snaking around their neck and pulling them closer.

Shuri snapped out of whatever daze she was stuck in, sinking into the embrace.

-

Curved ink lines. Deep, rich skin.

Raised, healed scars. Stark and angry. Prowling down the length of Shuri’s back, following the sweeping arc of her shoulders before feathering out towards her waist.

Further down, tattoos graced her skin. Broad, sweeping foliage and a rising wave of dots wrapping around her hips and waist. Playful, mellow shapes with feline faces peeking out of the abstracted scene.

Tangled in the covers, intertwined in every sense. Bodies fitting together neatly. Limbs wrapped about, pressing impossibly close. Lulled by the storm, by that soft burning heat between.

The rumbling thunder grew more distant, only the soft plinking of rain against the windows.

Riri’s hand traced down her spine, lingering on the tattoo, “Why panthers?” she tentatively asked, briefly wondering if she should’ve waited until morning.

Shuri stirred from where she was sprawled out on her stomach, head propping up, “A few years ago, I was rather…aimless,” she shared, brow furrowing as she spoke in low, soft tones. Treading the fragile quiet carefully, “I spent a lot of time traveling abroad, trying to find…I’m not quite sure what I was looking for, but I ran into Wakandan tattoo artist in Brazil and--”

-

Bitter rains soaked her to the bone.

Clothes clinging as she stumbled through the streets vaguely in the direction of where she was staying. She had hoped the chill would clear her head, but it only dampened her mood further. The numbness of her body only made her all-too-aware of the distance. Between herself, between her home, between them.

At some point she stopped walking.

Shuri stood there for a long time.

A door opened, then closed. Sandals slapping against the street, one leg limping after the other. A bony hand had grabbed the crook of her elbow, the other extending a small, foldable umbrella. When Shuri didn’t respond she dragged her inside without another word, letting her stay the night. Fussing about her catching a cold and not having enough meat on her bones.

Shuri let her, feeling properly scolded for the first time in a long while.

It was a little studio.

Filled with faded, punk-rock magazines plastered along the walls, smelling warm of smoke as if dinner had just been prepared. It was cramped, crawling with children and teens fighting, laughing, playing and generally being a nuisance, but she found she didn’t mind it in the slightest.

It reminded her of the afternoons at the marketplace.

The older woman was a tattoo artist. Wakandan in every way, yet she didn’t seem out of place here.

She had stopped going by names, finding no use for them, but she was fond of birds. Always feeding them outside her window, her voice sweet, but commanding attention as she sang with them each morning.

Birdy--was what some people called her on some days. She was surrounded by love. People sought her out constantly. Interrupting her client sessions for her assistance, pestering her with jokes, confiding their fears and marital issues.

Birdy was a mouthy, morbid, unrelenting kind, and equally nosy. On more than one occasion she’d mused about her impending death as if she was remarking on the weather, much to everyone’s displeasure. The woman had a health scare every other week, but that didn’t stop her in the slightest from doing whatever she wanted.

One evening, when the rain was erratic and the children were sleeping, Shuri had asked her if she was scared of dying.

Birdy laughed until she fell into a coughing fit, the multi-colored wind chimes by the window sending scattered light about the room, clinking away in the rain and wind. Accompanying her voice in a discordant, but lovely way.

Once she had settled down, Birdy took a drag of her cigar and remarked that no one had ever thought to ask her that before.

Shurui asked again, waiting for her answer properly.

Birdy wiped her eyes, squinting at her with a serene smile.

The answer still stuck with her to this day.

-

“--Panthers are revered. They are protectors of the land in my country. Their strength carries our people and traditions through times of great uncertainty,” Shuri explained, now having flipped onto her back, arms folded behind her head, eyes distant, “In my family, the leaders are expected to embody those qualities. It came to everyone else so easily, but…I always had difficulty fulfilling that role.”

“That's hard to imagine, “ Riri admitted, cheek resting on their arm. From what she’s seen, Shuri was someone that couldn’t help but demand attention. A natural-born leader. Then again, there was something alienating about the spotlight.

“There are many who’d disagree with you,” Shuri said, a wiry, if not self-deprecating smile on her face, “My conduct has been a topic of discussion at every ceremony since I could speak “ she rolled her eyes, recounting the incidents and her scoldings, waving it off flippantly, “Outspoken--disrespectful, and the likes.”

The list of critiques could go on. She was well respected for her contributions, but even now the eccentric reputation she had built from her youth followed her into every room. Judgement being cast at every turn. It didn’t help that with each invention--each push towards a brighter future, some felt she was only pushing the country further into darkness.

“Well,” Riri started, with a small laugh, interrupting her train of thought, “Some people are meant to find their place, while others have to make their own.”

“How wise,” Shuri drawls, sending them a side-long-glance, “No wonder I like you.”

Riri rolled her eyes, ignoring how her heart jumped at that, “My Step-Dad told me that whenever he had to pick me up from day-care for being a ‘disruption’ to classroom, “ she shared, picking at the threads of the sheets, “I dunno what it was, but I always pissed everyone off no matter how I hard tried to be good. Even the youth-leader at my Mom’s church got sick of me, but my Step-Dad never did.”

“He sounds like a smart man.”

“He was…and he had the patience of a saint,” Riri agreed, the discomfort in her chest growing, but she found that she didn’t want to stop talking, “He made this life shit look easy,” she muttered, a sour taste in her mouth.

She always wondered what he’d think if he’d known half the shit she’s done and where she ended up. Thinking about it, she decided he’d probably laugh at the irony of it all. Riri always hated her teachers growing up, it was poetic that she ended up becoming one.

“Every adult looks put together when you're young,” Shuri said, arm adjusting to settle over Riri’s shoulders, “I thought the same of my brother when we were younger,” then, she added a bit more coy, “That is, until he started dating.”

“Oh? He’s not a ladies man?”

“The ladies like him just fine, It’s genetic, afterall,” Shuri said, shamelessly. Riri scoffed, flicking their side, but they continued, undeterred, “I think women frightened him for awhile. He treated them all like lions.”

“And you’re not scared?” Riri prompted, raising an eyebrow.

Shuri raised her shoulders, giving a half hearted shrug, “A little fear is good for the heart,” she said, nonchalantly, “It keeps life interesting.”

“...What about a lot of fear?”

Shuri thought about this for a moment, “Is there a difference?” she asked instead, “It's about how you respond to it that matters. Personally, I’d rather not let it dictate my entire life. It can influence me, but I’d rather not have it define me.”

Riri’s face pinched, “You make it sound easy.”

“It isn’t,” Shuri said, thumb rubbing circles into their shoulders, “But, the effort is worth it. I’ve seen many people waste away from fear. They live perfectly comfortable lives, but their bright minds become dreadfully dull because of it.”

Shuri had spent a lot of time alone, searching.

All that messy introspective work that never really ended. She thought by getting away from the noise, she could finally think clearly. Cutting away all those pieces that were hopelessly tangled with others to pin-point her so-called better self. Stave off that relentless anger and confusion. Temper it into something that could be far more useful for her family.

It only made her restless.

She’d find answers and still keep looking for more. The silence--it was maddening. An empty space that didn’t ache, it didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel good either.

It didn’t feel like anything at all.

Everywhere she went, she always found herself watching others from outside the glass, numb. She let herself get drenched in the rain, hoping she could finally feel something. Wanting to believe she could be a whole person for even a second.

She wanted it so badly. She didn’t even know what she wanted, but then--

There was a touch, an umbrella, a guiding hand, and a place that reminded her of home so much that her heart ached when she finally had to leave.

It hurt. She missed them; the kindness, the children’s laughter, the tattoo-machine whirring, and the wind chimes clinking. She cried the whole plane ride back, but she didn’t regret her time there for a second. She didn’t regret leaving either. She was grateful. She finally felt--

Shuri swallowed, taking an even, shallow breath, “I don’t envy their peace at all.”

Riri didn’t have anything to say to that.

Struck all at once. That exhaustion she kept at bay all night sneaking up on her all at once. She was tired--so tired of it all. Of running, of hiding, of chipping away at herself to fit into the life she was supposed to endure.

Watching others enjoy the fruits of her labor, tip their heads back and enjoy the sun while she was stuck inside.

She was stuck. Shouldering it all because it's what she deserved, but now she thinks it might be because she was--

Shuri lowered her head, lips brushing against her forehead, “Are you scared of me?” she whispered.

“Terrified,” Riri weakly admitted, finally dozing off in their arms.

-

Morning arrived slowly, then all at once. As if waiting for the perfect moment to finally break the spell of that endless, difficult night.

However, there was still one loose end.

The city was alive again, as if yesterday’s storm had never happened. Light streamed inside, the playful streaks of gold brightening the room, catching the slivers of brown skin peeking from the covers.

Riri had woken up first. Mouth dry, she was draped across Shuri. Flushed to their skin, face buried in her neck as she held onto them. She hummed, unthinking, inhaling them deep. Then she remembered where she was, brain immediately launching into overdrive as she remembered the events from the previous night.

A sour-tasting regret for her actions strangled her knee-jerk impulse to book it. Instead, she tried to do what she did best. She could fucked it up, so now she had to fix this shit. Immediately.

‘Shuri. I know we’ve already hooked up and I definitely rejected you the other day, but--?’

No.

‘Hey, I know I was playing hockey with your heart for a second, but is that date still on the table?’

Absolutely not.

‘Grand rising, thanks for the head, but if you’re up for it maybe we can grab some brunch?’

Fucking--hell no. No, no, no.

Riri was losing her mind trying to figure this out. She had come to the unfortunate realization that she's never had asked anyone out--usually she was the one getting asked.

Riri stewed over this, her mumbling unintentionally causing Shuri to stir. They kept their eyes closed, listening to Riri fuss. A slow creeping grin spread on her face, but she quickly hid it away, deciding to pretend to sleep until Riri was ready.

Shuri didn’t mind.

Afterall, it’d be worth the wait.

Notes:

sleeping immediately after i post this, but i swear imma respond to the prev comments!! this just took longer then i thought and i have work tmmrw. we're so close to the end [of fic one] its unreal yalll

but thx for reading <333

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of the kids are alright