SILENCE AND PAITENCE

niko knew, immediately and with devastating clarity, that this had been a catastrophic lapse in judgment, because paloma looked entirely too good sitting beside him like that, all tucked-up legs and that tiny dress and the kind of pout that made him want to quit being a decent person on the spot. his gaze shifted down before he could stop it — not long enough to be obvious, hopefully, but long enough to remember she’d gotten tattooed earlier and to imagine the fresh ink hidden beneath the fabric, which was exactly the kind of thought he did not need while attempting to teach her how to throw a plasma grenade. “yeah, okay, terrifying,” he said, voice dry as he forced his eyes back to the screen, though the corner of his mouth gave him away. “real endgame boss energy from someone who just walked directly into a wall for eight seconds.” still, he didn’t move his hands off hers right away. he told himself it was because her aim was tragic. it had nothing to do with the way she looked up at him, or the fact that she was close enough to ruin him by accident. “but fine. unleash the monster, paloma. let’s see it.” his thumb nudged hers toward the stick again, slower this time, his grin sharpening as he glanced back at her. “just remember, when you lose, and you will, i’m clipping it and making it my offline screen.”

“i was distracted – obviously. give me a chance before you start talking shit, pretty boy.” paloma’s brows raised when he said he was going to clip her failure and make it his offline screen, and she wrinkled her nose immediately. “no, no. when i win, and i will, you’re going to make that your offline screen.” her knees curled in closer as she readjusted, settling in like that would somehow help her focus better. well, now she really was determined to kick his ass. now she was annoyed. “you’re so cocky,” she said, staring hard at the screen while she bit the inside of her lip. it was very rude, actually, how badly she wanted to win now. “why is this your favorite game?” a beat passed, and she tilted her head without looking away from the screen. “tell me while i walk around."

OFF CAMPUS (2026—)

the lights turning off startled her, having her looking around confused before the mirror was brought in front of her. immediately she was smiling, turning her head from side to side getting the full image. for the first time in months she found herself nto getting sick at the sight of the person in the mirror looking back at her. between the glow in the dark and the design herself she could barely see the scar that usually haunted her, "that's amazing. you have to do this for the club next time, it's so pretty!"

paloma’s grin widened the second rosie started turning her head, all that careful concentration melting into something openly pleased. “i know,” she said, because humility had never done anything for her. she shifted closer, watching the glow catch across rosie’s face. “you look adorable. like some kind of magical little forest creature that sells drugs at a rave.” a beat passed before she nodded thoughtfully. “complimentary, obviously.” but she’d noticed the way rosie had startled when the lights went out. she reached forward and adjusted one tiny detail near rosie’s temple, her touch careful and light. “we can absolutely do it for the club. i’ll make it even brighter so everyone can see you from across the room.” her eyes met rosie’s in the mirror, and her expression softened despite the teasing curve still sitting on her mouth. “but you know you’re pretty without all this shit, right?” she asked, casual enough that rosie could laugh it off if she wanted. “the makeup’s just decoration. very good decoration, because i did it, but still.” paloma tilted rosie’s chin gently from side to side, pretending to inspect her work when really she was making sure rosie saw all of herself. “my professional opinion is that you look hot, the cows are excellent, and we need approximately six hundred pictures.” she reached for her phone, then paused, glancing at rosie through the mirror. “only if you want them, though.” her voice stayed light, but the choice was deliberate. “otherwise, y’ know, this can just be ours. no evidence that i’m capable of making someone prettier than me.”

leaned back in his ergonomic chair, the blue light of the dual monitors washed over niko's face as he focused intensely on the screen. he wasn’t live, which meant he could actually relax and play without the pressure of entertaining thousands of viewers, but he was still locked in. his fingers danced across the mechanical keyboard, the rhythmic clicking filling the quiet room as he pushed through a difficult level. he was in the zone, his brow furrowed in concentration, completely immersed in the digital world. the sudden shift in weight made him grunt as paloma climbed onto his lap, her legs draping over the armrests of the chair. he tried to keep his eyes on the monitor, but her presence was an immediate distraction, her scent filling his lungs and her warmth pressing against him. he let out a small, strained laugh, attempting to dodge her wandering hands while still trying to navigate his character through a tight corridor. “not right now, babe,” he murmured, his voice strained as he fought to maintain his focus. “i’m almost at the boss fight. just give me ten minutes.” his breath hitched though when he felt her fingers hook into the waistband of his grey sweatpants, tugging them downward with a determined slow slide. the cool air hit his skin, and the sensation of her palms grazing his hips sent a jolt of electricity straight to his gut. he shifted uncomfortably, his movements becoming erratic on the screen as he tried to push her hands away. “paloma, stop,” he groaned, though there was no real conviction in his voice. “i’m serious, i’m actually about to win this.” the game became a distant memory the second her hand slipped inside the fabric and wrapped firmly around his hardening cock. niko’s entire body stiffened, his fingers freezing on the keyboard as a guttural moan escaped his throat. the screen flickered with a ’game over’ notification, but he didn't even blink. he let his hands pull away from the keyboard, his head falling back against the headrest as he surrendered to the feeling of her grip. “fine,” he rasped, looking down at her with glazed eyes and a hungry smirk. “you win this round.” he reached forward, grabbing her by the nape of the neck and pulling her into a deep, searing kiss.

“it’s yours, niko,” she whined. “all yours. ruin me for everyone else baby –” the word hit her like a physical blow, a detonation that started in her ears and ripped through every nerve ending until her toes curled. babygirl. it wasn't just the way he said it – low, rough, vibrating against the shell of her ear – but the way he owned it, the way he wove it into a command that left no room for resistance. it stripped away the last of her defenses, peeling them back layer by layer until she was raw and exposed and aching, her reflection staring back at her with glassy eyes and swollen lips. her eyes widened in the mirror, locking onto his reflection. her hips bucked against his without permission, meeting his thrusts with a frantic, uncoordinated rhythm that betrayed every desperate thing she was. "niko," she moaned, the name tearing from her throat like a plea, like a prayer she didn't know she'd been holding. "please – " his fingers on her clit moved faster, tighter, a relentless and maddening pressure that pushed her closer and closer to the edge. she could feel the coil in her belly winding tighter, tighter, each thrust driving it deeper. the wet sound of his cock filling her echoed off the bedroom walls – thick, obscene, a rhythm that matched the frantic pounding of her heart until she couldn't tell them apart. she was getting tighter, her walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses, her thighs trembling. "just like that, baby," she gasped, nearly at the same moment his arm tightened around her waist. his chest pressed against her back, slick with sweat, and she could feel his heartbeat hammering against her spine. "come right now – do it for me." the words broke something inside her. a sob tore from her throat, raw and ragged, as the tension that had been coiling in her core for what felt like hours finally snapped. her orgasm crashed through her like a wave – violent, all-consuming, nothing gentle about it – her body clenching around his cock in rhythmic, pulsing waves that left her screaming his name into the mirror. he held her through it. his hips kept moving, slow and deep now, his fingers still working her clit through the aftershocks with a gentleness that made her cry harder. he drew out every last tremor until she was limp and trembling in his arms.

"oh, you think i'm pretty?" pal grinned at the woman beside her as her fingers curled around the glass. "come on, sweetheart, don't stop there. keep going," she teased, taking a sip. "and what are you having? think we both need something while we get to know each other, right?"

niko shouldn’t have liked her as much as he did. most people at these things either treated him like he was untouchable or like he was an accessory they could drag into a photo and brag about later, but paloma didn’t seem impressed in the way he was used to. she looked at him like he was a man first and a famous one second, which was already rare enough to catch his attention. then she kept giving him shit, kept leaning closer instead of shrinking back, and niko felt the dangerous little click of interest settle into place. “pretty boy,” he repeated, smugness stretching across his mouth. “yeah, you’re definitely sticking around.” his gaze dropped to her hand when she made grabby fingers at his glass, and he laughed under his breath before handing it over. “be my guest. it tastes like someone bullied whiskey in a haunted basement.” then he took her vodka cran without asking twice, lifting it for inspection before his eyes slid back to her dress. “walking stereotype’s a bold defense, but i’ll allow it. mostly because you seem really committed to the bit.” he took a sip, hummed like he was judging her entire moral character through it, then nodded. “tragically, this is better.” when she called him mr. desperate, his brows lifted, delighted despite himself. “baby, if i’m desperate, the world’s ending.” he leaned his shoulder into the wall, looking far too pleased for a man who’d spent the last half hour mentally insulting everyone in the room. “i don’t have to beg for attention. people usually just wander over and accuse me of being hot and evil.” his mouth curved sharper. “apparently.” and there it was again, that refusal to flinch. niko liked it. he liked her grin, her nerve, and the fact that she seemed perfectly willing to bite back just because it amused her. “so it’s your thing,” he said, eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. “that makes me less special, which is rude of you.” he tilted her drink toward her in a lazy little toast. “but fine. i’ll let you make it up to me. tell me your name before i start calling you vodka cran.”

she raised an eyebrow when he said she was definitely sticking around, but she didn’t comment on it. not yet. instead, paloma traded glasses with him, lifted his drink to her mouth, and immediately wrinkled her nose at the taste. oh. yeah. no. her expression mirrored the one he’d made earlier, and a soft little sound of disgust slipped out of her before she could stop it. “dude, what the hell? who did you piss off to get this?” she snickered, reaching for her own glass again. “give that back to me.” when he held it out of reach, she pouted. “well, for the record, i’m always committed to the bit.” she took another sip from his glass anyway, staring at him over the rim like maybe it would be less terrible the second time. it was not. tragically, it remained awful. her mouth twisted, but she swallowed it because she was not a quitter, and because giving him the satisfaction would have been worse than the drink itself. when he mentioned that if he was desperate, the world would be ending, paloma laughed, bright and wicked. “i’m glad we met each other. we have so much in common.” a beat passed, and her eyes narrowed with amusement. “and this isn’t desperation, sweetheart. this is a fun back and forth. don’t get cocky.” she mirrored him, raising his glass in a toast before snickering again. “out of all the nicknames you could give me, vodka cran is what came to mind first? not very original of you.” her grin widened, delighted by her own audacity. “but it’s paloma. or pal. or baby, angel,” she continued, ticking each one off on her fingers like she was offering a menu. “i’m very flexible.” then she leaned in slightly, eyes glittering as she looked him over. “i’m guessing your name isn’t mysterious asshole, so go on.” her smile sharpened. “tell me what it is.”

Betty Blue (1986), dir. Jean-Jacques Beineix

Inde Navarrette as Nikki Freeman Obsession (2026) dir. Curry Barker