Sun

like the time you and megan were in a crowded restaurant and you made a stupid joke that wasn’t even that funny, but megan laughed so loud the whole building went silent. your smile dropped immediately as you sat there trying to hide your embarrassment behind your drink.

the problem wasn’t her dorky laugh, but the fact that she made it seem like you invented comedy. and later when the waitress looked between you two and said, “you guys are so cute, how long have you been together?”

your smile faltered but megan replied, “basically forever,” with a grin.

or when you get text messages from her at midnight, apologizing for something stupid as an excuse to talk to you again.

which is exactly why it wasn’t a surprise when you heard pebbles being thrown at your window one night.

you open your curtains and look down at megan with the window still closed. she’s standing there with a handful of more pebbles and you roll your eyes at the scene.

you hear another pebble hit the glass before you process that she threw another one, and she shrugs. you sigh and open the window for her to climb in.

you wait about ten minutes, hearing whispers of “shoot!” and “crap!” with every step she takes on the wrong branches.

“i swear your window gets higher every time i come here,” megan gasps out after finally reaching your bedroom. immediately, she picks up your hoodie from where you left it and puts it on like it belongs to her and flops onto the bed.

“get off my bed with your outside clothes!” you swat her on the back but she doesn’t respond with words, just a groan.

so you sit at the edge of the bed right next to her, and she shifts to drop her head into your lap with an exhausted sigh. one arm slips loosely around your waist and your hand instinctively goes to her hair, feeling her body relax.

“you need to stop throwing rocks at my window.”

“romeo did it and everybody loved him,” megan says after lifting her head just enough to glare at you, then laying back down.

you lightly tug her hair, “be serious.”

she replies with a soft hum but you can tell she’s drifting off.

you let her lay like this for about twenty minutes before your legs start feeling like they’re about to disconnect from your body.

“you’re falling asleep.”

“no i’m not, i’m just resting my eyes,” megan mumbles instantly, defensive.

you snort quietly and use your strength to shake her off of you and stand both of you up. you did most of the work while megan dramatically complained about being cold and too tired to move a muscle.

once you finally get her out the window, with your hoodie still on her body, you smile and tilt your head at her. the only thing you hear is the sound of the streets outside. “text me when you get home,” you say quietly.

she nods with a smile that you can barely see in the dark, and you watch her climb back down the tree next to your window, you try your hardest to hold in your laugh at how tight she’s gripping the branches with fear.

megan does this quite often. she sneaks into your bedroom to see your face for a few minutes, and then eventually leaves when she’s forced to.

the next day, you’re in the middle of making yourself a drink when your phone buzzes and lights up with a notification from megan.

you shake your head, smiling, and shove your phone in your pocket, quickly pulling on a jacket and leaving through the door.

you can already see megan in her parked car, sunglasses on and looking around pretending she can’t see you.

she probably thinks she looks so cool right now.

“you look like you’re driving a getaway car,” you say after getting in the passenger seat. you notice that the playlist you made was already playing in the car.

“oh, you’re here! only took you twenty years,” she says with fake surprise, looking at you fully.

you roll your eyes playfully, but your eyes catch on the drink on your side of the car. “you got me a drink?”

“yeah, i know how annoying you get when you’re thirsty.”

“that’s actually really nice. are you ill?” you say with a raised eyebrow.

megan scoffs and starts pulling out of the driveway. “i did that for my sake not yours, i don’t want you to be mean to me out of thirst.”

“i’m never mean to you.”

“remember when you said you’d block me if i didn’t play minecraft with you?”

instead of answering, you just turn your head away from her because yes, you do remember when you did that. she laughs and reaches out to grab your hand with her free one, then gently placing your connected hands into her lap.

she drives like that for a while, one handed and the other one absentmindedly rubbing over your knuckles with her thumb without either of you acknowledging it.

“if you add this song into any more of your playlists, i’m gonna press the ‘eject passenger seat’ button like in the barbie show and send you flying,” she says after you turn the volume up when a certain song starts playing.

“it’s a good song,” you defend.

“it makes me want to crash,” megan deadpans.

you stare at her with fake annoyance to continue the bit, but you notice how focused she looks when she drives, how she’s still rubbing your hand without pulling away, how she still tries to sing along to the song without knowing the lyrics.

the teasing gets washed away instantly and instead gets replaced with all things megan related.

but before you can continue, said girl stops at a red light and glances over at you, catching you staring. “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“i was literally just zoning out.”

“sure,” she laughs.

the red light turns amber, then green, but megan hasn’t noticed yet, too busy teasing you. until someone honks behind you and she flinches. you grimace as she steps on the pedal and makes the car speed off way too fast for your liking. “oh my god, we’re going to die,” you shriek as she keeps laughing at you, still not letting go of your hand.

you eventually get to the drive thru, and megan’s eyes light up looking at the menu. the way she scans the options so intensely confuses you.

she gets the same thing every time.

“you’ve been looking at the same meal for two minutes now,” you point out.

“shh, this is important.”

you furrow your eyebrows as the car finally moves down the line and reaches the speaker. “welcome, what can i get you?”

megan nervously sits up straighter, “hi, can i get-”

“a large fry,” you interrupt.

“wow,” she softly gasps.

“what?”

“you know me.”

“you literally order the same thing every time.”

“still romantic.”

you dig yourself further into the seat instead of replying, at a loss of words. the employee behind the speaker pauses before speaking again, “that’s actually really cute.”

both of you freeze in the car until megan recovers quickly and grins, “thank you!”

you whip your head towards her, “megan.”

she smiles innocently at you and proceeds to continue with the rest of the order for the employee, who laughs quietly at each interaction between you two.

the car moves along again, and you get to the cashier, who stands there and waits until you guys stop fighting over who pays today.

the car moves again until you’re parked in a quieter place. the music is still playing but lower this time, allowing you to hear each other better.

the food is spread around you and megan keeps stealing fries from your box, even though she has the same exact ones right in front of her.

she says yours “taste better” after you lose patience when she steals another fry right out your hand.

the music starts to fade out again, you didn’t lower the volume, but you both forgot it was playing in the first place as you only focus on each other and the stupid ‘what if’ questions shared between you to keep conversation going.

she says things like, “you’re my favorite person to do nothing with.”

you match her and say, “you make everything less boring.”

which makes megan quieter in a comfortable way. you watch her steal another fry without asking as you lean further back into your designated seat.

after knowing someone for years, you get to appreciate the quiet moments more. you know how the other is feeling without having to actually say anything out loud. it feels warm somehow.

“…i think we’d be good at fake dating,” she says suddenly, staring out of the window.

“fake dating?” you laugh softly.

“yeah.”

“why are you thinking about that?”

“because everyone already thinks we are anyway”

“hm,” you reach over to take your fry back from her hands, “i think we’d be bad at it.”

that makes her frown and look at you, offended. “bad? excuse you. i’d be amazing.”

“we’d be too convincing. look, you’re already holding my hand while driving.”

she looks at your intertwined hands, and holds yours tighter instead of letting go, “maybe i just like you.”

your heart feels weird, but not in a bad way, just in a humiliating way.

you can’t tell if she’s joking. megan doesn’t know either. except she’s staring at you for too long and smiling at you in a way that makes your stomach twist.

you feel like there’s no air in the car, so you move to open the window, but she interrupts you by suddenly speaking “and also we’re weirdly codependent.”

“i think there are worse people in the world to be attached to.”

she goes still for a moment, her thumb pausing on your knuckles. megan takes a deep breath and rubs your hand slower this time.

a smile appears on her face, “that was gross.”

“you’re the one who brought this up.”

“yeah but you made it emotional, gross,” she repeats under her breath, but her dimples give her away.

you laugh with her and lean your head back, the silence in the car softens. the occasional sound of the food boxes moving and other cars driving by are heard, but it’s mostly just you, megan, and your playlists.

she’s still holding your hand like she needs it. even when she’s driving her car back to your house.

at every red light, megan turns to glance at you before immediately looking to the front again like you wouldn’t notice, but you’re already looking at her first and catch her every time.

when megan parks up in your driveway, it’s dark outside. the only thing helping you see her are the car interior lights that turned on when she stopped the car.

neither of you move yet.

“thanks for today,” you say, quiet enough to not break the soft feeling between you.

“yeah, of course. today was nice,” she replies simply while tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

“do you think we’ll still do this when we’re old?” you ask.

“eating fries in parking lots?”

“yeah.”

“obviously.” she gets quiet, like she wants to say something meaningful but doesn’t. your hand lingers on the door handle but you don’t move to open it. “you should go inside.”

“you should drive home.”

“you first.”

“you’re literally still holding my hand.”

that makes her look down at your intertwined hands. “…oh,” but she still doesn’t let go.

you get quiet again, too distracted by the way your heart reacts to megan.

“okay…i’m leaving now,” you say slowly.

“okay.”

you still don’t move.

“wait-” megan blurts out.

you pause in your seat, “what?”

her mouth opens to talk but nothing comes out, for a while she just stares at you until her eyes nervously jump around trying to think of something to say.

“uh, you forgot your food,” megan mumbles out, pointing at your box that has a total of three fries left inside.

you blink, “you’re unbelievable.”

she shrugs in return, “yeah.”

you give her a look before finally pulling your hand away from her, which makes the car feel colder somehow.

“goodnight, megan.”

she’s still watching you carefully, “text me when you get inside.”

you open the car door, but before stepping out, you glance back one more time. megan’s already looking at you. “drive safe,” you say in a hushed tone.

her expression softens, “i always do.”

“liar,” you snort.

megan grins, “goodnight, pretty.”

your brain stops functioning for a second, but before you can get back to normal, megan starts the car again with a smug smile like she knows what she just did to you.

you stand still in your driveway watching her pull away for longer than necessary before finally going inside.

your room feels weirdly isolated after that.

you collapse onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying the entire night and every single interaction.

your phone proceeds to buzz with a notification. megan made a new playlist. it makes you narrow your eyes and open it with caution.

you stare at the screen in horror, is she insane?

shoving the phone face down into your blanket with much more force than intended, you cover your face with your hands and groan loudly.

not enough to relieve yourself of megan finding a permanent way into your brain and altering everything in there with just a spotify playlist and a ‘make me’ text.

you roll over and shove your face into your pillow, and that somehow makes it worse, because now there’s nothing distracting you from tonight.

holding hands, megan rubbing your knuckles like it was automatic, the way she looked at you at every single red light.

you squeeze your eyes shut, there’s no way she was being serious about any of that. she’s not capable of being romantic and smooth.

this is the same girl that keeps mistaking sugar with salt and screaming when she consumes the wrong one.

yet, you still find yourself scrolling through the playlist again. megan said to not overanalyze the lyrics, but how can you not?

when everything that happened before the playlist was made, makes it seem like it wasn’t a coincidence.

you toss the phone away from you to stop spiralling any further and you let sleep take over your overthinking.

the next few days feel worse, because now every interaction with megan feels like it means more than it is. more lingering and saying too much.

and megan makes it worse too, especially when she asked you to go to the carnival with her, and saying you can’t deny because she already bought the ticket.

the carnival feels way more crowded than you thought it would be. different music is blasting from every ride, people are carrying oversized prizes and they graze your shoulder every once in a while. the smell of carnival food overwhelms your senses the further you walk.

you suddenly feel someone catch your wrist and you’re about to flinch or pull back, but you recognize the shapes of the cold rings pressing into your hand.

“finally!” megan says dramatically, a little louder too so you can hear her over the speakers.

“i’m only two minutes late,” you retort.

she doesn’t hear you though, and instead she drags you deeper into the carnival without letting go.

she takes you down a path of rides where you scream your lungs out and megan laughs at you, games where she keeps losing and blaming it on the wind, and food vans with overpriced options.

she’s constantly pulling you close through the crowds, standing right behind you while waiting in line, enough that you can feel her front pressing into you.

when you play one of the games and it’s your turn, you hear the carnival worker say, “your girlfriend’s turn now,” to megan.

you watch her reaction but she calmly accepts it without replying.

one moment stood out though. you were at a different game booth, but this worker looks past the way megan acts around you, and decided to speak up.

“oh my god, that was so embarrassing,” megan laughs after you completely miss the shot at the bottles.

“shut up,” you roll your eyes.

“okay, i see the strategy,” the worker around your age says.

“thank you!” you say proudly

“pretty girls get an extra try,” he adds.

but before you could respond, megan is already interrupting, “then where’s my extra try?”

“…uh,” the worker tries to laugh it off but it just sounds awkward.

“i’m pretty too,” megan continues, sounding too serious.

you stare at her, “megan.”

the worker moves his eyes between you two without blinking, like he figured something out. “you don’t need extra tries, your girlfriend is already winning,” he jokes to megan.

usually one of you laughs it off, but instead, megan leans forward on her elbows that were resting on the counter and nods, “true. she’s very talented.”

your mouth falls open, and megan finally looks at you, visibly fighting a smile off her face. “what?” she asks too innocently.

“you can’t just-”

“babe,” she cuts you off smoothly, “focus on the game.”

the worker laughs but you’re too busy thinking about how natural that sounded, like she’s been calling you that forever.

which makes you miss the next throw, somehow even more embarrassingly than last time.

megan bursts into laughter in your face, “that was so bad!”

“your fault.”

“worth it.”

she’s still smiling when she reaches over to fix the hood of your jacket without thinking, her fingers brushing your cheek for a second too long.

then she speaks to the worker again.

“can my girlfriend get one more try?”

“megan.”

later on, you two end up walking to her parked car, which was so far you could’ve just walked home, but she insisted on dropping you off.

it’s quieter between you two, you don’t know if it’s because there’s no more music filling your ears, or if it’s because megan keeps glancing at you and looking away instead of talking to you.

you’ve had enough so you lightly tug at her sleeve, “okay,” you sigh.

“okay?”

“you got weird earlier. you’re still weird.”

“i’m always weird.”

“you know what i mean.”

“i don’t,” she keeps responding dryly.

you stare at her flatly as she avoids eye contact. it’s actually impressive how hard she’s trying.

“megan.”

“what?”

“you called me babe,” you say.

“as a joke,” she shoots back.

“you also called me your girlfriend.”

“as a joke,” she repeats.

“right,” it almost feels like you’re talking to a brick wall.

“right,” megan trails off.

you let a few seconds pass between you until you speak up again. “you looked way too happy saying it,” you murmur.

you hear the shuffle of her shoes on the path after she nearly trips over nothing from your accusation. “i did not. you’re imagining things.”

“you got jealous,” you finally let out.

it makes megan go silent, feeling caught. the noises around you blur together while megan stares ahead as you both keep walking. the headlights from the cars around you make her face visible to you and your heart beats a little faster.

“megan,” you try getting her attention back on you.

“i just didn’t like him,” she says shortly.

your eyes widen a little bit before replying, “why?”

“because he was annoying,” she answers like a child.

“megan.”

“what do you want me to say?” the words come out more frustrated than she means them to and you both stop walking, she finally turns to look at you with her whole body.

“i’m not sure,” you mutter quietly.

she watches you, and then laughs under her breath nervously after a while. “i think i’ve been feeling weird about you for a while now.”

you and the rest of the world pause.

“weird how?” you ask softly.

megan looks at you for a bit longer. she tries to talk but nothing comes out, so she groans and throws her head back in frustration. despite the tension, you laugh a little. she shakes her head and looks back down at the ground in front of her.

“i get jealous, i hide behind playlists instead of saying things to you like a normal person, and every time you flirt i forget how to act for a minute.”

your chest feels tighter than usual, an unfamiliar feeling washing over you before she continues, “best friends don’t act that way.”

“no they don’t…” you say breathless.

the colors of the carnival lights behind her glow faintly, barely visible now. neither of you notice anything that’s happening around you anymore though.

“so…what now?” she quiets down.

you sigh and laugh at the same time, “i don’t know.”

“cool. great. awesome.”

you can see she’s starting to feel nervous, which makes you smile in return, and she smiles back. you notice how close you’re standing and you can’t help it when your eyes glance at her lips before you can stop them.

she notices and megan’s smile slowly fades from her face, “oh,” she breathes out softly and you swear you feel your heart almost explode.

“if this ruins our friendship…” she whispers.

“that’s what you’re worried about right now?” you slightly laugh, matching her tone.

“shut up.”

“make me,” you copy her.

you feel her smile when your lips finally meet, and you sigh into it, you’ve both been waiting so long for this. her hand slides against your jaw and she leans in further to deepen the kiss.

it’s gentle but still slightly awkward in the way it usually is when you kiss someone you’ve known for a while for the first time.

you pull away just a tiny bit, and let out a laugh, and megan’s smile widens, immediately wanting to kiss you again.

and she does.

it’s warmer and more certain this time, with your hands resting on top of hers, which were still gently holding onto your face.

the only thing on your mind is megan’s hand, lips, and how it doesn’t make sense why this ever felt complicated in the first place.

when you finally pull apart, megan’s eyes slowly open after you and you’re both still grinning.

“wow…”

you giggle and catch your breath, “that’s all you got?”

it stays on your mind the whole journey home, up until megan parks in front of your house and kisses you again before saying goodbye, which gives you yet another moment to replay in your head when you get to your bedroom.

you’re still smiling to yourself when you hear a buzz coming from your phone, and you pick your phone up with speed you didn’t even know you had.

it was strange but you blamed it on the system, most likely just a glitch.

you were tidying up somebody's folder of duplicate recordings, unfinished takes that were probably forgotten, and files that were taking up storage unnecessarily. you sorted all of the files in your usual order, renaming some of them as you go, until you stumbled across a file at the very bottom of the folder that was added only a few minutes ago.

huh?

the name of it didn't match any of the others and it wasn't even using any of the usual formatting.

it looked like it wandered in and got comfortable, which is irritating.

"right," you muttered to yourself in the empty studio, "this is either a mistake...or someone thinks they're funny."

you shifted your headphones onto your head properly, and clicked on the recording. if it was something weird, you wanted to hear it clearly.

for professional reasons.

obviously.

it'll be really annoying if it's simply a fifty second voice note of someone breathing into the mic.

hesitantly, you clicked play.

take_one_vocal_?_PLEASE_IGNORE.mp3

it was silent for two seconds before an unfocused soft voice started humming, it absentmindedly went on for twelve seconds before suddenly stopping. then the pretty voice started talking.

"...okay, this might sound stupid when i say this out loud and i hope it makes sense so it saves my embarrassment." it sounds like she's trying not to laugh. "if someone is listening to this right now...why are you in here?"

you give the screen a look.

...okay.

that's new.

next, you heard slight movement in the recording, she's probably adjusting herself so the mic hears her clearly. "no, really. i might've accidentally sent this somewhere sketchy or there's a little gremlin going through my files and opening them," she says with a light teasing tone. "but also hi, that was really rude of me to not introduce myself," she clears her throat, "actually no, don't get comfortable."

the file cuts off.

you blinked. if this were a cartoon, there would be question marks bouncing all around your face right now.

unfortunately, this is real life. which is worse.

your face was blank until you sat back up, "nope, it was probably just misplaced. cool, great, whatever." you quickly moved the file to the side, refusing to acknowledge the fact that a file just spoke to you and caught you opening it. you leaned back in your chair, still processing and staring at the file like it would disappear eventually, but it didn't.

you shook your head and decided to try to forget it, you still had so much work to do.

ten minutes passed, yet your mind kept reminding you that a voice recording called you a gremlin, which was very distracting.

so when a new file popped up in the same folder, you noticed immediately.

you scoffed, "...no, this is just a coincidence." however, your curiosity was too strong and you clicked on it anyway.

STOP_opening_my_draft_files.mp3

you heard her voice straight away this time. "i see. so you are real," she giggled, entertaining herself. "if you're the same person from earlier-" she stalls. "i noticed how you organized my files, that was helpful, but this isn't me saying thank you."

a beat passes.

"i'm just telling you i'm paying attention and it's impressive."

another beat.

"...you're still weird though."

the recording ends like that, with her soft voice getting quieter near the end. your lips twitch, fighting a smile, you immediately flatten them. yeah, no. she doesn't get that.

you continue to replay the file three more times, listening to her voice and analyzing every word and change in tone. her teasing clouding your mind, until you realize you haven't gotten her name yet.

you scroll up and see who the folder is shared with.

sophia laforteza

hm.

pretty name.

the next day, you told yourself you wouldn't think about sophia on your way in, which worked for about three minutes. you couldn't get the sweet hum of her voice and her personally catching you trespassing out of your mind.

"this is so ridiculous," you say to nobody at all. you notice the way you speed up a little on the way to your chair to check if sophia was really just a glitch. the studio greeted you the same way it has been for months and months, everything is still in its place. the flickering light that you keep forgetting to report, the hum of the equipment, the constant smell of coffee.

everything has moved on from yesterday.

except you. apparently.

you placed your bag down and sat down on your usual chair. logged in. opened system.

usual and professional routine.

you double checked all the folders for anything new before your brain even told you to, but everything seemed fine. just a long list of files and names that are supposed to be there-

your eyebrows shoot up.

"no way..."

there was a file you were certain wasn't there yesterday. the familiarity of her comes flooding back to you. her messy structure fills your screen up right now. "not funny," you let out into the air, but you're already clicking on the play button.

stop_overthinking_it_v3.mp3

first there's just static, and then sophia's voice comes out of your headphones. "great. you came back."

you sit up straighter.

"i was going to act like i didn't refresh your activity to see if you showed up," after a while, she continues. "which you shouldn't overthink too deeply, i just like to know who i'm going to get today." you might be imagining it but you think you hear a smile through the audio. she sighs like you're a problem, "anyway, you're early."

you blink like that changes anything, "...early for what?" you obviously do not get an answer back, she can't hear you.

probably.

hopefully.

"i checked the logs, not in a creepy way. in a...normal way. you were here yesterday, which is... consistent for you," she continues.

you frown at her rambling, not because of how much she's talking, but because the word 'consistent' made your heart beat a little faster. it shouldn't have, but it did.

"i like consistent things," she says casually.

then quickly retracts.

"in a professional work sense. very professional of you," she coughs out.

you lean back in your chair, "...yeah okay."

she exhales softly, "also, you didn't get rid of me." she pauses, "which i appreciate. not emotionally. practically."

another pause.

"but still."

"still," you echo as you force out an exhale.

she continues talking, "i was actually convinced you'd try to fix me or delete me because you thought i was a bug, which, for the record, i am not."

a beat.

"probably."

"probably?" well, that's not reassuring.

"do you think this is weird?" you hear a self aware laugh paired with that. "you probably do." she doesn't talk for a second. "but it's less weird if i don't think about it too hard."

less confidence.

you tilt your head like you're figuring her out from just a recording of her voice.

"and also," her tone sharpens like you're getting scolded, which makes you freeze. "don't think i didn't notice you didn't respond last time."

"...i did respond," you say with furrowed eyebrows.

you didn't.

"which is fine," she says. "i didn't note that down or anything. i just...expected you to." she said that with honesty she probably didn't mean to show before clearing her throat. "so will you keep doing that? because i'm going to keep noticing-"

another beat.

"and that may become a problem," she laughs softly. "for both of us."

the file ended

you sit with it, then regret it slightly, because her words stuck with you. 'i just expected you to.'

"she's insane, that's not normal." you stop mid thought. your eyes flicker at different parts of the system, specifically at empty spaces where files shouldn't be. "she's just talking to herself and i just happen to be listening."

that makes sense.

technically.

you click off the file and open another, but your brain isn't there. it's still being held back by her voice.

"stupid, stupid, stupid," you repeat under your breath. you go back to your work anyway, and you actually try this time. you sort your files, renaming and fixing what you're supposed to be fixing. that lasts around five minutes, because you see the system refreshed again after another file was added on her folder.

so_you_are_ignoring_me_now.mp3

"okay, so now you're ignoring me."

"...i'm not ignoring you, i just didn't respond," you say to the computer that can't relay the message to sophia.

"that's interesting," she says, "because yesterday you were very committed to being all up in my files...and now you're quiet."

you lean back slightly in your chair, "you literally told me not to get comfortable...this feels like a trap," you shake your head. strands of your hair fall in front of your face, but you don't bother to fix it, you're too focused on sophia.

"either you're being normal or that's you being annoying on purpose."

you scoff at that. rude.

"i'm leaning toward the second one."

that makes you shake your head again, "yeah, sure."

"also, just so you know, i can kind of tell when you're here," she says quickly.

your eyes narrow at the screen, you can't look her in the eyes so you choose to shoot your sharp look at the pause button instead, "no you can't."

"...you keep fixing things," she lets out, which makes your eyes automatically look at the files you touched earlier this morning.

"that's not proof, that's just my job..." you trail off.

however, her voice softens and she sounds thoughtful now, "it's consistent." she keeps using that word. consistent. and you hate it. your fingers still over the keyboard. her tone shifts once again, back to teasing you, "don't get used to me saying that."

you huff, "i wasn't planning to."

sophia continues, "but if you're going to keep doing that...you could at least commit to the bit," you raise an eyebrow. "or don't. i'm still going to notice."

then you see the play button reappear.

the file ended.

"...that's not how that works," you say to yourself, getting defensive, "you can't be ignored if you're not talking to me directly," you say as a matter of fact. you roll your eyes at the screen like she can see it. like she'd care.

"whatever. doesn't matter."

it doesn't.

not at all.

your eyes flicker back to the folder anyway, just once. then you turn back to your other tab, forcing your mind to stay on doing your job, not her, and you pretend not to notice how your hands keep stopping or how you forget what you're doing sometimes.

you almost don't notice it at first. there's no notification this time.

you just see it.

a new file sits in the folder like it belongs there. you stare at it for longer than necessary, "...no." the name of the file is different though, less childish and annoying. your fingers twitch towards your mouse. "...she's definitely doing this on purpose." this time you don't click on the file immediately, which is new.

for the first time, it doesn't feel random.

it feels like she's waiting for you.

"...fine."

you_have_opinions_dont_you.mp3

she starts off strong, "you keep picking the same takes i would've picked."

you don't react. you refuse to react.

"which is either coincidence... or you have opinions."

you throw your head back slightly, "...i don't-" but you cut yourself off. she can't hear you.

she pauses to find her words, "and now i'm curious what else you'd change."

that affects you more than it should.

"don't get ideas. this is not an invitation," she says, with a lighter tone right after.

"figured," you huffed under your breath.

still, she immediately backtracks, "...actually, it might be. i don't know yet."

you blink. once. then again. "...okay."

the file ends once again.

you don't move, not right away. your eyes stay on the file and on the empty space underneath it. "that's new..." you slowly lean back, processing. feels like you're doing that a lot recently. "she's not just talking anymore," you mutter. "...she's-" you stop. you don't finish that thought.

your gaze drops lower on the screen.

to the comment field.

it's waiting, just like she is.

you continue to stare.

"...no."

your cursor moves anyway, clicking into it. you start typing:

'you started it.'

you stare at your words, "that's stupid." but you don't delete it, not immediately anyway. you reread it. "...this is how this gets worse for me." you exhale. then delete it.

the text disappears, the comment field empty again.

"...yeah."

you crack your knuckles and your neck, "not doing that." you begin working again, your eyes keep flicking back to the folder anyway.

"...this is wrong."

the next day, you don't think about it on your way in. that's what you tell yourself, anyway. it works...for about three minutes. then your brain starts replaying her voice to mess with you. the way she said it. 'i'm curious what else you'd change', you push the thought away as fast as it came.

your routine starts again. enter, log in, open system. you hesitate just for a second, and you open the folder once again.

the files are still there, something in you stops you from deleting them and just forgetting this whole thing. you glance at the comment field again. you think it over, "...fine."

you click onto it and rest your fingers on the keyboard like they're waiting for you to change your mind for the nth time. however, this time you don't.

you type it out again.

'you started it.'

you stare, "still stupid." quiet. "whatever."

you hit enter.

you freeze.

"...okay." you lean back slowly, like the screen would react instantly, but it doesn't. you let out a quiet breath and shake your head, "great." you turn back to your work for a minute.

then the system updates.

a new file.

your face blanks when you read the name of it, "...oh, that's not good."

you press play anyway.

excuse_me??.mp3

"oh," sophia stops. "so you talk."

"apparently," you exhale.

"okay, that's-" she cuts herself off, "that's great." you could hear fabric moving. "i was starting to think i imagined you, which would've been less embarrassing for me, honestly." she lets out a soft laugh in disbelief. "that's your first message? you had all that time and that's what you went with."

"it worked," you pout.

her voice softens, "okay, so now i know you're real."

silence.

"...this just got more interesting." and you instantly know she'll be trouble.

the file ends.

"that was fast." your eyes drop to the comment field again, "she was waiting, huh?" your fingers move to the keyboard, you know she's waiting again, but you stop yourself. "not doing that again." you force your eyes away with a straight face.

"...this is fine."

it isn't.

you try to pay no mind to sophia, you're renaming files and fixing things that didn't really need fixing. anything to distract you. your focus lasts twenty seconds before the system updates again. you open it immediately this time. no hesitation.

youve_got_my_attention_v2.mp3

"okay, now i'm curious."

she always is.

"you answered fast, which tells me two things." she lets a short moment pass, "one, you were already thinking about it."

you halt, like someone just pointed a gun at you.

"and two...you're not as detached as you pretend to be."

you stretch your back and exhale through your nose, "...that's not-" you start but sophia cuts you off with a laugh.

"see? you keep trying to argue with me like i can hear you, but you still do it." you stop what you're doing and blink. "which is kind of my favorite part."

you feel that land in your chest, making you sit up. "...don't say that."

she subtly shifts closer again, "so...do you always respond like that? or was that just for me?" a short pause is shared between you two. "...you started it," she repeats with a softer voice. "i like that." then there's silence again, but longer this time. "you should do it again. respond."

the file cuts off.

you don't move this time, you consider not moving at all. "...she's getting comfortable, that's an issue." your eyes lower to the comment field again but it doesn't feel threatening anymore, which is worse. "...no." your fingers have a mind of their own though and they hover over the keyboard. you don't move for a minute, "she literally told me to..." you think for a second. "...i'm not doing it just because she told me to, that would be stupid," so you don't type at all and instead, you sit there.

she can wait.

she should wait.

you try to focus on your work, it feels like you've been finding that hard after certain recent events, before the system updates again. it makes you briefly shut your eyes closed, "...you've got to be kidding me."

that_was_fast.mp3

"...you stopped," sophia says, with no greeting. "that was fast, i thought you'd-" she cuts herself off. "never mind," you notice how her voice sounds slightly unsteady, how she waits to think about her next words. "you answered once and then disappeared on me again, that feels intentional, which is interesting," she doesn't speak for longer than she usually does, "...a little annoying."

she huffs, "i was just...curious what you'd say next."

you don't like how your body responds to that.

she clears her throat, "not in a...you know what, i'm not explaining that." she pauses. you notice she does that a lot, as if she's not in control of what she's saying half of the time. "but you were there. and now you're not." another pause. "...i noticed. i probably shouldn't have." a third pause. then her voice gets quieter, "that's all."

that's how the file ends.

you hesitate, "...she noticed, that's not-" you end your sentence early.

because it is.

you think you feel responsible, something in your chest tightens. which is...annoying, and definitely not your problem.

you decide to step forward with a confidence that feels fake, but if you think about it for too long then you'll stop. you click into the comment section and start typing.

'you talk a lot for someone who said this wasn't an invitation."

you stare at what you typed up, fighting an internal battle of whether it's a silly response that'll cringe both of you out or if you want to catch her off guard. you decide on the latter, so you press send.

you immediately flinch away from the keyboard and screen, as if you can physically distance yourself from it, "...that was worse." you wait, this time you know you'll get a reaction out of her.

and she does react.

almost instantly.

thats_your_approach.mp3

"oh, so now you talk." you're very certain there's a smile on her face right now, you can hear it. "now you're calling me out." she softly chuckles, "...interesting." she moves closer to the mic, "also, i didn't say it wasn't an invitation, i said i didn't know it was," she corrects. "you seem very sure about it, though." she giggles again, "...so you've been paying attention. that makes everything more fun."

then, her next words come with slight hesitation.

"but also-" she falters. "you answered once...then disappeared again." you tilt your head. "i don't like that pattern," she admits with less confidence, but she steers the conversation back into a teasing one right after that, "so if you're going to do this... commit."

then she switched into a softer tone, almost under her breath, "...or don't. i'll notice either way, but you should keep going. respond again."

the voice note ends.

she liked that..

your back straightens and before you can stop it, your hand is already moving. "...no," you say out loud, but you keep typing anyway.

'you say that as if you aren't the one talking to yourself.'

you hit send and your head twitches away from the screen. "okay, that was unnecessary...i didn't have to say that," you sigh out loud. your reply sounded better in your head. your fingers tap on your desk in an uneven rhythm and your eyes go back to the folder, you don't see any new file added yet. "...good." you turn back to your work, and everything almost goes back to normal. you nod to yourself, she won't respond to that, it's settled.

until your system updates again.

"of course." you say dryly.

you click on it anyway.

oh_so_thats_how_its_gonna_be.mp3

"wow...okay," she laughs. "you're becoming bold, that's new..." she holds her words in for a second before continuing. "i like it." she lets that sit, just long enough for you. then, she takes back control of her words, "also-" she says, ready to correct you again. "i'm not talking to myself anymore, you answered. that means this is a conversation now, so try to keep up," she teases lightly.

she exhales, like she didn't want to say her next words.

she does that a lot, she's self aware but she still says too much. almost like she thinks out loud when she's getting too engaged.

"and don't do that thing where you disappear right after," she delays. "it's predictable." she quickly recovers, "not in a bad way." another beat, "...just don't."

it's quiet before sophia softens and says, "i'll notice."

the recording ends.

"she named it..." you trail off. "she's getting comfortable, too comfortable." you whisper to yourself, your leg bouncing under the desk.

your fingers stay still over the keyboard again but you force yourself to stop. your eyes flick back to the folder anyway, betraying you, and your fingers start moving again before you can start overthinking it.

'you say that like you're not enjoying it.'

you press send.

"okay, that was...fine," you mutter to yourself.

the folder gets updated again.

i_see_whats_happening.mp3

"oh. you think so?" her voice comes in, amused. "that's interesting-" you hear that smile again, "because from where i'm sitting, you're the one who keeps coming back and responding." silence, "four times now."

she's keeping count?

"so if anyone is enjoying this..." she laughs, "i don't think it's just me." she lets that hang for a second before talking again, "but sure, we can pretend i'm the problem. that works for me."

her voice softens, but not much.

"just don't act surprised when i keep talking. you keep answering."

the recording stops.

you don't reply this time.

"...yeah, that's enough." you lean back slowly and take a glance at all the files that she's sent you these past three days. "...for today."

you try to forget it as you sit down in your chair again the next day, but your brain fills in the silence for you.

the way sophia said it.

'so try to keep up.'

you push the thought away and log in. instantly going back to your routine, which apparently includes checking her folder for any new files right after everything loads in.

just checking.

"this is just part of my day now, hm?" you say to yourself.

unfortunately for you, there's new files waiting for you at the bottom.

"she didn't stop." you open your mouth and close it, "...neither did i." so you click on the file without any overthinking this time.

you_again.mp3

"you're back," sophia states. she doesn't sound surprised anymore, just certain. "around the same time too...that's consistent," she softly exhales.

you've been hearing that word a lot recently.

"i was wondering if that was a one time thing, guess not," she sounds amused, before she shifts slightly. "good," she adds casually. "makes this easier," she leaves a gap between her words, "...less guessing."

another tiny gap.

"so, are you going to pretend this is still accidental? or are we past that now?" she says with a faint smile in her voice.

the recording ends.

instead of sitting back, you lean forward this time. "same time," you repeat, "...that doesn't mean anything." your hands pull your keyboard closer to you, "she noticed that fast," you still, "...of course she did."

'you're paying a lot of attention.'

you press send without a delay like usual. leaning back, your eyes automatically scan her folder for a new file. "whatever," you turn back to your work for a minute, which felt like the longest minute you've ever waited your whole life.

then your system updates.

interesting_pattern.mp3

"i am," sophia accepts your callout bravely, with no hesitation. "you make it easy."

you hear something that sounds like both a laugh and an exhale.

"same time, same pattern again. you're not even subtle about it. you read everything, answer selectively," she listed off before she halted.

she continues, "it's steady, i like steady." then she lightens up her voice, "it means i know what to expect...most of the time."

the voice recording ends.

"...selectively?" you question quietly, "is she tracking it?" you think about the answer to your own question, "of course she is."

when your fingers touch your keyboard again, you try to ignore how fast they moved. "that doesn't prove anything," you say to yourself, definitely not in denial.

'you're making it sound intentional.'

you type and hit send, it feels casual. you go back to work, you click, you rename, you relocate.

routine.

then the system updates once again.

i_expected_that.mp3

"yeah, you keep saying that." sophia sounds amused. "that it's not intentional." she shifts to get more comfortable, "but you keep doing the same thing. same kind of answers." she lingers for a second, choosing her next words carefully, "...same hesitation before you send it."

you scoff, quieter than you meant to.

"so either you're very predictable-" sophia stops, "or you're lying to me." she laughs quickly, knowing how it sounds. "which is fine, by the way. you don't have to admit anything. i'll figure it out anyway."

the recording ends with that.

sophia thinks you're predictable?

you stare at the screen for a second.

your fingers are already moving again.

"...predictable?" you grumble under your breath.

'then stop expecting it.'

you hit send.

looking away from the screen, glancing anywhere else, you tap your fingers against the desk. "right," you mumble, turning back to your work, and it almost sticks this time, before the system refreshes again.

right_on_schedule.mp3

"see? you just did it again," sophia softly giggles. "you say it doesn't mean anything...and then you show up."

you both exhale at the same time.

both having different reasons why.

"you don't even realize you're doing it, do you?" she retorts playfully. "it's kind of my favorite part...how i can expect it, and i do," she says, getting quieter with each word until the last one sounds like a secret.

the recording ends.

you don't react right away.

"again?" you echo, sitting back to distance yourself from sophia's words. it doesn't work. your eyes flick around the screen and you look away instantly. "...that's just-" but you halt because you already know how it sounds. everything you do feels like you shouldn't be doing it, like how you glance at the folder.

'you don't even realize you're doing it, do you?'

"...no," your fingers decide to move, almost automatically, as if you're supposed to respond. however, they don't move. "not this time," you murmur and you force yourself to continue your work, going back to your routine. you don't touch your keyboard again, not for her anyway.

you're clicking.

adjusting.

renaming.

a lot of time passes, you don't check the folder, not even once. you let the quiet settle in and you get reminded of how uneventful and normal the studio could be before sophia happened.

then, the system updates once again. you blink, "what?" your eyes glance, out of your control, and you see the new file.

you click on it.

what does she have to say now?

still_here.mp3

"you're still here...later than usual," she adjusted in her chair. "i didn't think you would be." you hear static before she continues, "...not today."

this time she waits for longer.

"...but you are. interesting." her tone switches, it's lighter, but not teasing, just thoughtful, "you're not as consistent as i thought...or maybe you are." she leaves her thoughts unfinished. "either way, you stayed," she says, softly.

the audio ends.

"...later?"

your eyes jump to the time, you did stay longer today.

you didn't mean to.

your hand instinctively goes to shut the system off, but your hand lingers on the power off button just for a second.

then you shut it down.

the next day you come in, you're later than usual. not by much, but enough to notice. you don't think about it when you sit down, logging in. it's all muscle memory for you. you open up the system and-

something's off.

your eyes narrow slightly as you slow your movement, your folder looks different. it's not how you usually order and rename them, and it's certainly not how you left them yesterday. you continue to scroll down cautiously as you check the timestamp of each file, they're all too recent. your jaw twitches slightly.

so what? it doesn't mean anything. it shouldn't.

you check the bottom of sophia's folder, and there's a new one awaiting you.

not_you.mp3

"oh," sophia sounds quiet when she starts talking, she doesn't sound confused though, she's just noticing. there's a small pause filled with the sound of material moving as she changes her sitting position, you assume. "that's not how you do it...that wasn't you," sophia states instead of questioning, she pairs it with a quiet sigh, like the thought slipped out before she could stop it.

"someone got to it before you." another long moment, "...interesting," but it doesn't sound like she means it. her tone changes but you don't know what emotion she's feeling, it doesn't sound playful. "you're usually first," she tells it like it's a fact that she decided. "guess that isn't as constant as i thought," she claims with a weak laugh that doesn't land.

"or maybe someone else just decided to be helpful..." she adds, but the word doesn't sound right.

'helpful.'

sophia hums softly and under her breath, almost like she isn't convinced by her own words. "...yeah," she hesitates, "...just wasn't you," quieter and slower this time.

the file ends.

you stare at the screen a second longer than you should. 'helpful'. you repeat the word in your head, because it doesn't feel right to say out loud. you shake your head, trying to empty your mind.

'you're reading into it.'

your fingers hover over the send button, long enough to prove her point, before you press it anyway.

you don't look at the folder. instead, you drag a file across your screen and drop it into place a little harder than needed. your movements are deliberate, like your focus was something you were forcing. "it doesn't matter," you drone.

you work until you start to forget sophia for a minute or two. the silence around you feels different. you slow down without meaning to, the sound of your typing slipping. she isn't answering. it shouldn't mean anything. it doesn't. your eyes avoid the bottom of the screen.

you don't check.

you wait another few seconds.

still nothing.

you almost believe it, until the system updates again. you let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding in, but you keep your eyes on what you were doing, like it matters more.

it should.

a few seconds pass, "...it can wait," you whisper.

your hand moves to click on the file.

took_you_a_second.mp3

"you're going to try not to open this right away," sophia accuses without rushing. "...just because i said something," a small shift, "you don't like when i get it right."

you lips form a straight line.

"so you'll wait." she's silent for a second, and then her voice falters with softness, "just a little...but you'll still open it." she let you sit with that, and then she adds, "you typically do, which is kind of expected."

and then she ends the recording.

the audio cuts off, and the silence that follows feels heavier than usual. your jaw tightens, you ignore it as much as you can.

"you don't know anything," you blurt out, softly.

you move your cursor in uneven circles to distract yourself, until you stop and decide to open different files. anything else. just to prove a point that didn't need proving. your movements feel precise in a way they haven't before.

you exhale, sharply this time, and let a few seconds pass.

you don't look back.

...long enough that it should count.

then you check anyway.

nothing's changed, of course it hasn't. you let your gaze linger for a little longer than intended, then force it away again. you decide to go back to work, but this time you don't rush anything, you let yourself get comfortable with your renaming and dragging. your normal things. predictable things.

the silence stretches, long enough that it starts to feel real again.

you don't love that.

then, your system updates. not loud, or abrupt, but enough to steal your attention back. you don't move your eyes though, because you already know where they'll land if you do.

another second passes, and you decide to stop fighting it. you glance, there's a new file waiting for you.

figured.mp3

"...that makes sense," you hear a small shift, probably getting more comfortable. "you didn't come back right away," sophia notes, "not like you normally do." she wavered. "you let it sit," she says, more to herself than you. "...just for a bit." she waits, "that's different," she thinks out loud, softer.

"...but not really," she exhales, "you still came back."

"...you always do."

the recording goes silent for two seconds, then ends.

your whole body stays still, like you're waiting to hear more from sophia. "...makes sense?" the words don't sound the same coming out of your mouth. you reach for your mouse again, seeking for something to do to ignore this antsy feeling you're not familiar with. your cursor drifts around the screen without landing anywhere. you don't provide your system with any new work, letting it lull.

the peace around you makes you forget about it for a few minutes, until the folder decides to update again, and another file sits at the bottom.

you_do_this_every_time.mp3

"you always stop here," she says directly. her voice sounds steady, "right after you say something like that." she continues, "you push back...and then you stop, which is rude by the way. where are your manners?"

she gets quieter this time.

thoughtful.

"it's like you're waiting for it to matter less...it doesn't," sophia sighs, "you still come back anyway, maybe not right away, but you still do." she softens and her tone sounds more certain, "you don't like it when it's obvious, that you're paying attention...but you are," she ends her speech calmly.

she ends the recording with that.

you press your lips together and sigh, pushing your chair a few inches back, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. you try to do your job, but your focus keeps slipping. catching on nothing. "...it's not that deep," you say, but you don't know if you're saying that to yourself or sophia.

you keep working, longer than you have these past few days without getting distracted. the silent moment stretches to the point where you feel like it's finally over.

you almost close the system.

you notice the folder slightly move, it was easy to miss, but you notice anyway.

another file.

didnt_like_that.mp3

"...you didn't answer," sophia states with hesitation, she doesn't sound sharp or accusing, just sounds like she noticed. "you usually do." she's quieter now. "even if it's just to defend yourself...but not this time," she waits, long enough for you to feel it. she sounds more honest now, not like she's examining you anymore.

"...i didn't like that," a small exhale before sophia stumbles over her words. "-ignore that, i didn't say that."

she doesn't add anything after that, but it seems like she wants to because the recording doesn't end. she sits in silence for a few seconds, before eventually turning the recording off.

you sit there with no thoughts, which is unusual because you always have at least one thought arguing with itself. the screen of your computer is still lighting up the room, nothing else moving.

your hands move to the keyboard, but stop in their tracks. you don't have anything to shoot back with. so, your hands shift and you keep them to yourself this time.

the folder is still open in front of you.

you don't close it. you don't open anything else either. it just sits there, and so do you. you reach for the system, you pause just for a second.

then you shut it down.

it's been two days. you weren't here yesterday.

no voice notes, no interruptions, no her...it should've been nice. it wasn't. you log in and the system loads in slower than usual. your eyes go straight to her folder, and you delay for a second longer than you should.

there's a list of files waiting for you from yesterday, more than there should be, like she didn't stop. like she noticed you were gone, but kept going anyway.

you move your cursor and it lands on the first recording, not the latest. you hover over it like it might change if you wait long enough.

it doesn't, so you click.

routine_check_v2.mp3

you hear the static start, and then sophia starts talking, "hm, you're not here," she says simply, like she expects that to change something.

it doesn't.

she lets out a soft breath. "you're just late," she convinces herself. "you're always here. so either something is wrong...or you're being inconsistent." she lets the silence emphasize her words, and then keeps going, "which would be new for us..." she huffs in amusement, "didn't think you had that in you."

the file ends.

she noticed fast. like always. "that doesn't mean anything," you mutter, already clicking on the next recording.

this_one_is_fine.mp3

this time, sophia starts quickly, like she recorded this one straight after the last one. "okay...now someone else is here." you hear something that sounds like movement. "they're in your place," her tone sharpens lightly at the word 'your', barely noticeable. "and they're-"

she stops and retries.

"...they're trying." she laughs but cuts it short, not realizing the effect of her words. "it's not right though." this time she doesn't explain herself, "they don't hesitate the same way. you pause before you change things, like you're thinking about it." she stops.

"they just move things. it's messy." even though she's talking about some files, it still strikes a chord. she forces herself back into teasing.

"you would hate it."

then she ends the recording.

"my place?" you echo, your eyes narrowing. "that's not what this is."

you open the next file.

log_review_FINAL.mp3

"i checked the logs," sophia says, "not in a weird way...just to confirm."

you stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

"you're not here," softer this time. "you didn't show up. you always show up."

your jaw tightens slightly.

she exhales through her nose and starts talking once again, "so now i'm trying to figure out if that means something."

she stops, then continues again, "and i don't like that i have to." that one slips out more honest than others, which she catches. so, quickly, she retracts, "not because of you. just, system inconsistency." sophia quiets down, "obviously," she adds, unconvincing.

again, the file ends.

you lean back, "she checked the logs?...that's excessive." immediately, you click on the next file sophia has waiting for you.

ignore_this_one.mp3

this one starts with a longer delay than the others, like she debated recording it in the first place.

"do you do this with other people?" she suddenly says, it's quieter but controlled. "not that it matters. it doesn't." you hear her shift, like she's turning away from the mic. "i'm just asking," and goes mute for a second, then, "because it would be annoying if this was normal for you. you don't feel normal, you feel specific. not random."

you can almost hear her deciding if she should keep going.

she does.

"so if you do this with other people," she says, lighter now, "then that's just efficient, i guess."

then calmer, "you probably don't," but it doesn't sound like a conclusion, it sounds like she wants it to be true.

"anyway. doesn't matter."

file ends.

you don't move on quickly this time. you don't shift, you don't lean back, you don't multitask. your hands just stay in place. "specific?" you repeat, frowning. you don't like the way she said it. your eyes glance back at the previous voice notes she left, "sophia recorded all of this yesterday?" you ask quietly.

your fingers flinch to the mouse, opening the next and last file a little quicker than before.

nothing_new.mp3

this last file sounds less guarded once you hear her voice again, "you didn't answer, obviously. you weren't here." she reminds herself like it still needs explaining. "i kept checking anyway, that's new," she trails off quietly. that sits heavy for you.

she sighs, "this is stupid." she laughs at herself for a second, "you're not even here and i'm still-" she cuts herself off.

the recording continues but it's just silence from sophia, and static from everything else. you think she accidentally forgot to end the recording until she speaks again, "...you'll come back." not playful or teasing this time. just certain.

the audio stops.

she kept checking.

you glance at the timestamps of each file again, "all in one day," you say finally, "because i wasn't here." you don't open another file, there isn't one. you're sitting with silence and the list of sophia's recordings like proof of something you're not naming.

your cursor automatically moves to the comment field, but you don't click. you've left things like that unfinished before. unanswered and easy to walk away from.

this should be the same.

you know it isn't.

'you'll come back.'

"...i did," you say under your breath like that counts as an answer. your hand moves before you fully let it, and you click.

'you recorded all of that in a day.'

you reread it.

"that's not what i meant." you hit send anyway and the system stays still for a second.

two.

then it updates.

your eyes snap back to sophia's folder. a new file. that fast? was she waiting?

hi.mp3

it instantly plays her voice, "you noticed that," she says first, then exhaling softly. softer than usual. "took you long enough."

you hear movement.

"before you say anything, i wasn't waiting or anything. i just-" she stops. "i just had time. and someone else was in your place." her tone changes a little bit on that word again. "which was...annoying. they don't do it like you." sophia quickly adds on, "professionally."

she's quiet for a second before she changes the subject, "so, you're back now. are you going to disappear again? or was that a one time thing?" quiet again, "because that wasn't great."

the file ends.

you tilt your head to the side, and go straight to the comment field. no hesitation at all this time.

'you're just getting better at noticing me.'

you wait for the response, you know it's coming. while you're waiting, you close the folder, open it again, press the refresh button. anything that could speed things up somehow. then, the folder moves and you see a new addition.

not_a_big_deal.mp3

"i'm surprised you're not arguing with me yet, that's new," she says playfully. "don't worry, i didn't miss it. just noting it. professionally. i'm trying to build a conversation arc" you can hear the smile in her voice now, even if she's trying to hide it.

"i was thinking about something," she slows down, like she doesn't know what she wants to say.

"if we weren't doing this," sophia's tone shows how she doesn't even have a name for it, "would you still act like this? or is this your 'behind a screen' personality?" she laughs. "because i'm starting to think you're very confident from a safe distance"

"not complaining." she adds quickly, lighter. "just observing. again. professionally."

she regains her thoughts and her voice gets softer, softer than it ever was before, "i have a question." sophia says, and it sounds like she's slowing down because she enjoys the setup. "tomorrow, if you show up at the same time again, would you recognize me if i said hi in person?" she laughs like the idea amuses her. "or would you pretend this is still just a file system glitch?"

as if she was smiling into the mic, she says, "don't overthink it. it's just a thought. probably."

the voice recording ends.

you don't know what to do, you can't think about it like that. do you reply? do you leave this alone and never speak to her again?

'don't turn it into something real.'

your hand moves fast, shutting the computer off, avoiding the response from sophia.

you're earlier than usual today. it's evident with the way the building seems to have not woken up yet. the hum of the machines is there, the lighting too, but everything feels too quiet. it's all running but it hasn't settled yet, and neither have you.

you grumble moody nonsense under your breath and adjust your bag on your shoulder. you try to forget yesterday as you walk down the hallway. same route everyday, until you get to an intersection. you always take the left, today you decided you won't. you need that change.

that will definitely make you forget about sophia.

you turn right, and keep walking.

has it always been that quiet in this part of the hallway? your footsteps sound louder than they should, which makes you very aware of how you're walking.

so now you're walking weird, great.

you realize that a second pair of footsteps are echoing in the hallway, not yours.

you slow down, they don't.

eventually, you both step into the same space. not dramatically, you just acknowledge something awkward occurred.

you don't know who's standing in front of you. she's looking at you right now like she won some type of argument, which confuses you. her dark hair flows down her shoulders smoothly and she's wearing casual clothes. just a hoodie and sweatpants, but you still notice how she kind of reminds you of a princess. it takes you a second to realize she also sees you, so you stop staring at her so intently out of embarrassment.

were you always this awkward?

she's already looking at you, but she doesn't look confused. she looks interested, almost amused. as if this was the most normal thing ever. you on the other hand, forget how standing works for a second.

you notice the silence between you so you decide to speak up, "...you're in the wrong hallway." it comes out a little too quick and quiet.

her lips twitch, fighting back a smirk, and you immediately regret going to work today. there's a delay where she decides how seriously she wants to take you. she doesn't.

"am i?" she asks, entertained. she tilts her head, like she's looking at something she recognizes but can't quite place. "that's new."

you frown. "what is?" you let out before you can stop yourself.

she vaguely gestures between you two with her hand, "this," she says.

big help.

she continues, "you being here. like this." her gaze flicks over you, lingering in places before moving up and back to your eyes. her eye contact is so intense it makes you want to look away, but you decide not to in case she mocks you for it.

"earlier, too. you don't usually do that," she adds on.

you blink. "i don't usually what?" you ask, defensive already. it makes her smile, like she expected it.

"change things," she simply says.

you immediately look past her, as if the hallway would back you up. "it's just timing," you say, quicker than you planned to. you point behind you, "i usually take the other one." you don't explain why you didn't today.

"mm," she hums, like she doesn't believe that. "you usually do a lot of things." she raises her eyebrows a little, "but not today."

you look at her properly this time, and your brain tells you this person is familiar. not in a 'i know her' type of way, but 'i should know her' way. you furrow your eyebrows, "have we met?" you ask.

her smile falters just slightly, you see it though. she wasn’t expecting you to say that out loud, but she was glad you did. “depends,” she says. “would you recognize me if we had?”

you open your mouth but nothing comes out.

you try again. “…i don’t know,” you admit. quieter this time.

she nods like it all makes sense to her.

“that’s fair. most people would’ve just lied” the mysterious girl says lightly.

you look away, “most people would’ve been wrong.”

you get a quiet giggle out of her, “good, i don’t like predictable answers.” she tilts her head, “you don’t seem like you do either. you just pretend to.”

you stare. “…i don’t-” you stop as fast as you started, because you don’t know how to actually finish that. “…that doesn’t even make sense”

she smirks like she knew you would say that, “it does, you just don’t like it.”

you don’t talk back, because that would require having a response. you adjust your bag again instead, which might be the fifth time now in the last forty seconds. you know you’re doing it but you don’t stop.

she notices, of course she does, “you’re thinking too much,” she says. not unkindly.

“i’m not” you shoot back.

you are.

her smile widens, “right.” she doesn’t believe you at all.

the moment that passes wasn’t awkward. just there.

she shifts her weight, looking behind you briefly. then back at you. “so, are you going to keep standing in the wrong hallway or were you actually going somewhere?” she asks casually.

you hesitate.

now it feels like a decision, which is stupid, it’s just a hallway.

“…i was,” you say slowly, still deciding the rest of your sentence. “…going somewhere.”

“good.” she moves to the side, only a little bit to let you pass.

you walk past her.

very normally.

definitely not overthinking where your arms are or if your side will graze hers or how fast you’re walking-

your mind blanks once you hear her voice again. quieter and to herself, she murmurs. “consistent.”

you slow, just slightly. but you don’t turn around. then you keep walking like that didn’t just happen. like this is normal. like you’re not going to think about this all day.

you are.

at last, you make it to your desk. barely. your steps feel off, like you’re still halfway in the hallway.

you sit down, the system is on, and the screen loads. you don’t even pretend to work this time, instead, your eyes go straight to sophia’s folder.

it’s already there. a new file, just waiting for you.

say_it_out_loud.mp3

yet this time, you don’t press play. you shake your head and before you can think about it too much, the chair is already moving. it scrapes as you stand up too fast, nearly catching the edge of the desk on your way out.

not grabbing anything, you just go.

the hallway is still quiet as you run, which makes this worse. you turn the corner.

she’s still there.

sophia is leaning against the wall like she was waiting for you.

like she knew you’d come back.

she looks up and a small smile appears on her face, “that was fast.”

you stop only a few steps away from her, closer this time, but not by much. “you were waiting?”

“you came back,” she counters.

sighing quietly, you don’t deny this time. the air feels loaded between you, but not uncomfortable. “…you sent that on purpose,” you say after a while.

“obviously,” she replies, “i didn’t think you’d listen to it. not when you could just come back.”

your eyes go to her, away, and then back at her. you’re fidgeting with the ends of your sleeves nervously. “you said to say it out loud.”

“i did.” sophia looks at you, not teasing, but attentive. too attentive for your nervous system.

you nod before replying, “…this isn’t just-” you start. sophia’s watching without interrupting so you restart, “…it’s not just the system. you keep noticing things, when i’m here, when i’m not…and you’re right.”

sophia nods to urge you to keep going.

“i do come back,” you continue. “i notice too,” you hesitate, “you.”

the air feels different now, a small difference but real. she doesn’t joke this time, or deflect. this time, her eyes soften, “okay,” she nods lightly.

you’re the same, you don’t joke or deflect. this time, you stop pretending that this is random and you look at her. really look at her.

“so stop pretending that this is just a pattern,” you say, it comes out a little uneven. “it’s not…it’s you,” you finally say, quieter.

something in sophia’s expression changes, like something settled into place with your words. you hear her exhale softly, almost a laugh. “took you long enough,” but there’s no edge to it.

“you weren’t exactly subtle,” you huff.

“i was very subtle, you just notice too much.”

you smile and she straightens her body, not moving away. “so, what happens now?” she asks softly.

glancing back down the hallway, then at her, you reply, “we stop pretending it’s accidental.”

“good.” she nods, “it was getting exhausting.”

you exhale, counting it as showing her you agree.

“so…now that we’ve established this isn’t just a system thing anymore…” she starts casually talking again, looking at you for a second too long. you narrow your eyes at her.

that sounds dangerous already.

“i was thinking, maybe we try talking somewhere that doesn’t involve shared folders and psychological warfare.”

“psychological warfare?”

“don’t act innocent,” sophia shoots back. “you disappeared for two days. that was emotionally devastating for me for at least seven minutes.”

you let out a laugh before you can stop it and she brightens up immediately at the sound. “so?” she asks.

“what?”

“do you want to go out with me,” she says, like it’s something reasonable, “or are you going to keep standing there pretending this hallway conversation is professionally normal?”

your brain fully stops working for a second. you blink.

“you ask people out like that?” you manage to let out.

“you responded to anonymous audio files for over a week, i don’t think either of us gets to judge communication methods,” she points out.

you look away because, unfortunately, she’s right. your eyes return to her and she’s still watching you patiently.

“…yeah, i’d like that.” you eventually say quietly.

she smiles like she just received a trophy. a real smile. “good.” soft, but her teasing slips right back, “try not to overthink it before then.”

“that feels targeted.”

“because it is.”

you shake your head and roll your eyes, but now there’s warmth behind it, no weight.

she’s still annoying though.

the hallway is still quiet around you two, it’s still ordinary. however, now it feels different, not because anything changed, but because neither of you are pretending not to notice anymore.

a few months later, sophia still talks too much. you’ve accepted that…sort of.

“you’re ignoring me again,” she says from somewhere behind you. you’re sure she has that annoying pout on her face paired up with it too.

“i answered you literally thirty seconds ago,” not looking up from the screen.

“mm,” she hums. “and yet your tone shows emotional distance.”

you sigh, the studio still sounds the same. the hum of equipment, keyboards clicking. yet now, sophia sings under her breath when she thinks nobody is listening. which is never, because she’s loud.

“you’re staring again,” she suddenly says.

“i’m not.”

“right,” she smiles, unconvinced.

you turn around and you see her. she’s sitting across the room, with one headphone halfway in and watching you over the top of her monitor.

cute.

“you still notice too much,” you lean back in your chair.

“and you’re still with me,” she replies back fast, like she had that locked and loaded.

you huff out a laugh. some things never change.

you hear a sound come from your computer and you turn to check. “…seriously?” a new file appeared in the shared folder. you stare at it and slowly spin your chair back to sophia.

“what?” she asks innocently, looking far too pleased with herself.

your eyes narrow when you turn your head to look at the file name again.

open_this_one_or_im_offended.mp3

“you’re impossible.”

“and yet,” she says lightly, leaning back in her chair to mirror you, “you’re still here.”

you open the file, of course you do.

you suddenly hear sophia’s voice come out your headphones, “hi. just wanted to see if you’d still open it.”

you glance up at her and she’s already looking at you, smiling extra wide.

you shake your head to yourself but can’t keep the smile on your face in. predictable. this time you don’t mind. your cursor moves to the comment field.

‘you’re still using the folder to flirt. embarrassing.’

you hear a giggle behind you and then the shared folder gets updated again.

you_smiled_i_win.mp3

her voice comes out quieter this time, “i like when you smile at your screen before you realize you’re doing it.”

your smile drops instantly, and sophia bursts into laughter.

“you’re abusing the system,” you call out to her, but you’re already standing up before she can argue back.

her laughter dies down immediately when she notices you walking towards her desk. “uh oh.”

“don’t start.”

“you came all the way over here just because i bullied you a little bit? sensitive.”

you stop beside her chair and look down at her, trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

sophia notices straight away and smiles like she won something. she reaches out without thinking about it and hooks her fingers around the sleeve of your loose shirt near your wrist. the movement feels natural now, but it still does something to you every single time.

“you’re staring again,” she says softer this time.

“you keep saying that.”

“because you keep doing it.”

you keep staring anyway. the flickering studio lights, which you still need to report, catch against her dark hair. sophia is still looking up at you like she expects you to shoot back with a witty response but your brain always slows down when she looks at you like that.

“…what?”

you shake your head, “nothing.”

“liar.”

you sigh, but smile despite yourself, “you make it difficult to focus in here.”

“aww, you can be so romantic sometimes,” she says with a mocking expression, which makes you roll your eyes, but you notice the way her hand slips down to yours, fingers intertwining perfectly. you squeeze her hand once before letting it go.

“don’t make it weird,” you say as you lean down to press your lips to the top of her head, almost automatically.

suddenly sophia gasps, very dramatically, and covers her mouth, “oh my god, did you just initiate physical affection in the work place?”

of course she has to ruin the moment.

you roll your eyes in annoyance and start to turn to go back to your desk but not fast enough to escape her fingers that dropped and held you back by the belt loops of your jeans.

“no, come back,” she whines through her laughter. “i liked it.”

your expression eases as sophia gently pulls you closer until your legs bump against her chair. “c’mere.”

you let her tug you without protest or complaint, her arms sliding loosely around your waist, cheek pressing against your stomach comfortably.

your hand carefully settles into her hair and sophia relaxes against you with a pleased hum.

your computer still has files to fix.

her computer still has recordings to finish.

but sophia just looks up at you with soft eyes and says, “you know…you’re a lot easier to read now.”

“that so?” you raise an eyebrow.

“mhm.” she smiles lazily.

you were both sprawled across the bed, breathing too fast for how little you’d done yet. megan was on her knees between your spread thighs, cheeks flushed pink, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she squeezed a thick dollop of lube into the transparent toy. her cock was already leaking, flushed dark at the tip and curving up against her stomach.

“fuck… look at you,” she whispered, voice all shaky and soft. “so hard already.”

you whimpered, hips shifting restlessly. “megan… please. hurry.”

she nodded too fast, like she was the one who needed convincing. her hands shook a little as she worked the lube inside the toy, the clear walls turning slick and shiny. then she lifted her gaze to yours—those big, desperate eyes—and crawled closer.

“gonna put us both in,” she murmured while her fingers were already curling around your cock. she gave you one slow stroke that made your back arch. "is that okay? want you rubbing right against me inside it…”

“yes—god, yes,” you gasped, fingers fisting the sheets. “just do it. i can’t— ”

megan let out a tiny, broken sound and lined the toy up. she started with you, pressing the open end against your tip and slid you in nice and slow.

the tight squeeze pulled a loud moan from you, your thighs trembling as she worked the fleshlight all the way down your length.

she leaned in closer, knees spreading wider, and carefully pushed her own cock in right alongside yours.

the second the heads of your cocks brushed together inside that tight, slick toy, you both let out a soft, broken whimper.

“fuck—fuck, it’s so tight,” megan whined, voice cracking. her hips jerked forward on instinct, pushing more of her length in until you were pressed flush together, sliding and rubbing against each other in the lubed-up toy.

the transparent walls let you see everything— the way your cocks throbbed side by side, veins standing out, precum mixing with the lube and making everything messy and shiny.

you couldn’t stop the desperate little noises spilling out of you. “megan… move. p-please"

she nodded frantically, one hand braced on your thigh, the other gripping the fleshlight tight.

she started moving, slow at first— dragging the toy up and down both of you in long, slick strokes.

every time she dragged the toy upward, the heads of your cocks caught and rubbed together, sending sharp sparks up your spine. every downward stroke made her throb hard against you, the friction so intense it was almost overwhelming

“oh my god,” you moaned, head tipping back. your hips bucked up helplessly, chasing the toy, chasing her. “it feels— fuck, it feels so good when you move it like that.”

megan was panting, lips parted, eyes locked on the sight of your cocks sliding together inside the clear sleeve. “yeah? you like it?” her voice was all breathy and whiny, the same way yours was.

she sped up, moving the toy faster and tighter around your joined cocks. wet, filthy sounds filled the room— loud, messy squelching that made your face burn. your was cock sliding and rubbing against the underside of hers, both of you leaking so much that the lube turned even messier with every stroke.

“faster—please, megan, faster,” you begged, one hand flying down to grip her wrist, not to stop her, just to feel her moving it. “i’m so close already, i can’t—"

megan let out a shaky sob and gave in completely. her hand moved fast, working it up and down in quick strokes. she couldn’t help herself— her hips twitched forward in tiny, needy thrusts, grinding her cock harder against yours with every slick plunge.

“me too,” she whimpered, her words cut off in a high, whine as she twisted the toy on the upstroke.

you came first, hips squirming up hard as thick ropes of cum shot out of you, painting the inside of the fleshlight and spilling over megan’s cock. the sight of it— the way your cum coated her while she kept moving the toy— pushed her over right after.

megan cried out, body shaking as she came with you. her cock pulsed hard against yours, adding to the mess, warm pulses mixing together inside the toy until it was overflowing, cum leaking out around the edges and dripping down your balls.

wheezing out a last laugh between coughs, voice hoarse as you gasped. “jesus, yves—i’m gon’ die ‘fore you get your answer.”

she rolls her eyes, completely over your antics as she pinches the joint between her fingers and lifts it up to her lips to take a hit, smoke blanketing the both of you for a brief moment before dissipating, her gaze burning holes in the closed doors of the chapel.

“i just don’t know how keeho does it, man. fuckin’ asshole always barges into my room every few days just to rub it to my face ‘bout how he’s hooked up with another girl from our school.” 

you hummed in response, grabbing the joint from her and taking a long hit, glancing at her and blowing it in her face—which earned you a punch in the arm. 

“please, it’s like you don’t know how your cousin is. i mean, d’you remember that time he got caught in the middle of doing it with someone in mr. bell’s barn—”

“shut up, y/n. door’s open.” 

you huffed at her words, sitting up straighter in the truck bed and eyeing the doors of the church that slowly trickled out with churchgoers, groaning and jumping off the truck to open the door of the driver’s seat, with yves following suit.

“say, is mr. whatchamacallit really down to lend your momma some money? seems out of his capability, y’know, with him bein’ a preacher and all. ain’t seem like he makes much.” she’d commented as you grabbed your cowboy hat and haphazardly put it on.

“it’s mr. laforteza, and he said he’d apparently take some from the church offertory.” 

yves’ eyebrows furrowed, adjusting the baseball cap she had swiped from your truck’s glove compartment. “ain’t that a sin? stealin’ from god?”

“ain’t stealin’ if he gon’ bring it back. if my momma ends up payin’ him back, that is.”

you’d merely shrugged, making your way toward the chapel, the sun glaring down at the both of you so harshly that heatwaves shimmered off the pavement like mirages. sweat clung to your back, and each step felt like walking through molasses. 

ahead, the chapel stood proud and pristine, untouched by the sweltering heat, where the preacher—mr. laforteza—stood outside, all smiles and handshakes, chatting with the townspeople like he didn’t have a single bead of sweat on him. 

like the heat wasn’t killing him as much as it was killing you. 

goddamn the southern heat.

and as you neared the chapel steps, the air shifted. not just because of the heat, but from the way the townspeople’s eyes began to trail toward you. conversations quieted, glances sharpened. they all knew your last name. 

they all knew the stories. the fights, the screaming matches at 2 a.m., the broken windows, and the trouble that followed your family like a bad smell. you weren’t just a girl—you were that girl. 

the girl every mother warned their children about.

their stares weren’t subtle. they never were as you’ve come to know. but you were used to it. you were born to be used to it.

mr. laforteza noticed the tension instantly, his smile faltering just for a breath before he caught your eye. and then, with a gentleness that felt like an unexpected reprieve, he offered you a small smile and nodded.

“come inside, y/n.” he said simply, holding the door open like the judgment behind you didn’t exist. 

“i’m here to take what my momma had asked of you, uh… pastor.” you murmured unsurely as you glanced behind you to see if yves had still followed, but the woman had stayed down the steps of the chapel and just shot you a look, crushing the joint under her foot but not without one last drag.

he’d nodded, continuing to usher you in. “yes, yes. i’ve got it ready.”

he led you deeper into the chapel, footsteps echoing softly against the cool wooden floor as the heavy wooden doors shut behind you, muffling the heat and whispers from outside.

the sudden dimness inside made the stained glass glow, casting fractured blues and reds across the pews and altar. 

ahead of you, mr. laforteza was already loosening the crisp white collar around his neck—no, not the collar, you realized, but something longer, more ornate. some kind of stole? you weren’t sure what it was called. religion wasn’t exactly a family tradition in your household.

you hadn’t grown up surrounded by gospel hymns or sunday rituals. your home worshipped a different altar. one stacked with overdue bills, liquor bottles, and whatever was left of last week’s paycheck. 

the only thing anyone ever knelt for was dropped change or forgiveness after a screaming match, and the closest thing to prayer was someone muttering “please just one fucking lucky break.” 

god had no place in your kitchen, no seat at your dinner table.

so all the symbols around you now—candles, crucifixes, golden goblets—felt foreign, maybe even a little intrusive. still, you followed quietly, eyes trailing the length of the chapel while mr. laforteza moved quietly, and you felt incredibly out of place.

“sophia?” he called out gently in the silence of the chapel, grabbing the folded papers scribbled with the day’s gospel and hymns and the like, gathering them in a pile as he exhaled softly, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

he offers you an almost sheepish smile. “sorry, my daughter’s helping me clean up after today’s mass. my wife’s out of town with my boys, so it’s just me and her.”

you wave it off, leaning against the end of a pew with your arms crossed. 

“s’all right, pastor,” you say, voice soft and worn with that drawl of yours. “ain’t like i’m in a rush. take your time.”

he nods, appreciative, before disappearing behind the small archway that led toward the back of the chapel. 

you take a moment to let your eyes wander—at the candlelight flickering low, the faint scent of incense clinging to the air, the silence that somehow presses against your chest more than the noise outside ever could.

your fingers drum lazily against the polished wood as you exhale, trying not to let the quiet make you feel more unsettled that you already are.

god’s house, they called it—but it didn’t really feel like home. not with all the gold and solemnity, the pews too neat, too empty, too honest.

“didn’t know god needed that much help cleanin’ up,” you mumble under your breath, mostly to yourself, mostly to fill the silence.

and then you hear it.  footsteps. lighter this time. smaller. and when you glance up toward the back room, that’s when you see her.

sophia laforteza.

and god help you, she looks like every good decision you’ve never made.

you felt your hands go clammy and your throat go dry at the sight of her stepping through the archway—the kind of dry that made you swallow twice, like that’d somehow fix the way your heart did jumping jacks. 

she held a white envelope sealed with red wax in one hand, the other brushing delicately at the hem of her white lace dress like it was second nature. sunlight from the stained glass hit her just right, casting a rosy hue over her cheeks, and for a second, she didn’t look real.

 like you needed to touch her to make sure she’s alive.

mr. laforteza trailed just behind her, but your eyes didn’t leave his daughter. not once.

as they made their way toward you, you scrambled to get your act together. cleared your throat, tugged off your hat with a fumbling hand and held it against your chest like it might keep your heart from jumping out. 

you even straightened your collar, trying not to look too much like the mess you knew you were. the mess your family made you to be. 

you weren’t too sure what she thought of girls like you, with her pretty, neat, white lace dress, a stark contrast to your worn out boots and second-hand shirts from your brothers. 

she was the preacher’s daughter, and you were a death row inmate’s daughter.

mr. laforteza shoots you a smile. “y/n, this is my daughter, sophia. sophia, this is y/n tucker, willoughby’s younger sister, if you remember him. i’d assume you both know each other from school?”

your lips tightened into a forced smile. willoughby was the best of you. part of the church choir, charming in a way that made church ladies adore him and teachers call him gifted. always had a bible in one hand and a joke in the other. 

he was the only one who stood tall when your father got dragged into court, voice steady while the rest of the family cracked. when the sentence came down—death row, final—willoughby was the one who actually gave a damn about what happened next.

and then he vanished a few months back.

drove off with ethel, the girl he used to call his “saving grace,” and didn’t even leave a note. not even a goodbye.

you’d looked up to him. hell, maybe too much. and now, every time someone mentions his name with that nostalgic fondness, it leaves a bitter taste sitting on your tongue. 

you don’t tell mr. laforteza that.

you also don’t tell him you barely go to school anymore.

sophia smiles at you in response, surprisingly enough. even offers her hand out for a handshake, to which you’d unsurely accepted. “hi, you took woodwork with keeho, right? mr. bell’s class?”

she knew you? you cleared your throat again. “uh, yeah, yeah. were you… there when the whole thing with keeho went do—”

 her pointed look at you shuts you up, remembering you were in god’s house with a preacher closely watching the both of you.

you let go of her hand, stuffing it back in your pocket and nodding awkwardly. mr. laforteza kindly gestures at sophia to hand you the envelope. 

“that’s got all of what your mother could ever need, y/n. please tell her to take care of herself and if possible, to bring it back again so we could be at peace with the lord.” he murmurs as sophia extends the envelope for you to take. 

you hum. “‘course, pastor. thank you for your time.” you glanced at sophia. “see you around.”

down the steps and back into the simmering heat of the south, yves follows you like a lost puppy, groaning under the force of the sun while you tugged your cowboy hat back on, kicking some dirt as the pastor closed one of two doors to the entrance. 

“so, d’you see sophia? is she as pretty as they say? as religious as they say?” yves’ questions flowed like water into river, continuous even until you reached the inside of your pickup, shoving your hat back in your glove compartment without a care.

“she’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure. could see why boys at school are so hellbent on getting her hand in marriage.” you’d mumbled nonchalantly like you weren’t about to burst into a ball of nerves upon the sight of her.

“ha, i think i’d shoot my own cousin just to have a chance with her.”

yeah, me too.

—--

she looks like she works with her hands and smells like marlboro reds.

sophia never thought that she’d be sitting inside a short-bed truck under the stars behind the chapel, the scent of tobacco clinging to the air. the pastel blue flannel she wore didn’t belong to her. it hung loose off her shoulders, sleeves rolled sloppily like you’d done it for her in a rush. 

the collar was stretched a little, worn soft from use, and smelled faintly like you: a mix of sweat, sun, and marlboro reds.

she was hunched forward, elbow braced on one knee, the other hand trembling slightly as she held the cigarette between her fingers. 

she coughed once, then again, harder, the sound ripping from her throat like her body didn’t quite know what to do with itself. foreign.

this was her first time, of course she didn’t know what she was doing. and it’d be embarrassing now to pretend like she did.

you looked just like an expert on the topic.

strings of giggles slipped from your mouth, cracked with amusement as you reached out and rubbed her back with one palm, half-concerned, though mostly entertained.

the cigarette still burned between your own fingers, the filter wet from being passed back and forth between your lips. does this count as an indirect kiss? sophia wonders. oh god, would this be my first kiss then—

“you good there, church girl?” you drawled, grinning.

she nodded, barely, ripped from her thoughts. cheeks pink, hair a little messy, pupils blown wide not from the nicotine but from you. so close, so smug, so goddamn intoxicating.

and god, if she weren’t so mortified, she might’ve smiled too.

she never thought she’d end up here, with you. not just in your truck, but behind the chapel.

behind the actual house of god, hidden from the road by oaks and old fences, where the choir’s voices couldn’t reach and the stars blinked down like they knew a secret. this was sacred ground. and yet, she wasn’t kneeling in prayer. though she might if that meant she could spend more time with you like this.

sophia laforteza, the preacher’s daughter. prim, sweet, composed. the girl with folded hands and spotless shoes, always helping her father set up communion or hand out hymn books. the one with the perfect reputation. the one mothers pointed to and said, “why can’t you be more like her?”

smoking in your passenger seat.

it was everything she wasn’t supposed to be.

yet it thrilled her. she’d never known life outside the church, and god, you. you with your tattered reputation and camo jackets (occasionally) and fucking corner store robbings. 

you’d never been indicted, though. the town felt it too much of a bother to keep you locked up in state juvie where you’d most likely influence more teenagers to act out.

enablers? sophia thinks so, but with the way you gazed at her and batted your eyelashes like you weren’t what the mothers think you are, she might as well be an enabler too.

because fuck, she’ll feign sickness to skip church as many times as she could if it meant being with you.

“so,” she utters after a beat as she passes the cigarette back to you, placing it between your lips as you take a deep hit of the tobacco, her eyes flitting down to watch the smoke escape and continue to fog up the car. 

“what brings you to the chapel this late at night?”

“what brings you to join me?”

“don’t turn the question back to me.”

you held your hands up playfully, brows raising in surprise at her response, chuckling softly as the stick of tobacco hung loosely around your lips. 

“damn, alright. came to church thinkin’ i’d possibly, maybe, pay the dude up there a visit.” you’d shrugged, slightly cracking a window open and letting the the fog spill out in waves upon the notice of sophia starting to cough at the compiled toxic smoke.

“you good there, laforteza?” you mumbled in concern, continuing to crack the window open and grabbing the stick between your lips to transfer over between your fingers, sticking it out the window and skimming the pad of your thumb to shrug off the ashes.

sophia waved a hand in front of her face, still coughing a little, brows pulled together. “i’m fine. nothing i can’t handle.”

the two of you sat there for a moment, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable. the hum of crickets filled the air outside, soft and steady. she was unsure what to do next. she’d never found herself in this situation, much less stuck in a car with you of all people.

“so…” you started, lips jutting out slightly as you thought of what to say next. sophia’s eyes flicked down, almost on instinct, watching the movement before she could stop herself. she bit her lip, then blinked rapidly, trying to chase away the sudden thought of what it might feel like to kiss you. she faked another cough, hoping it’d hide the colour creeping into her cheeks.

you eye her. “you ever kissed anyone before, laforteza?” 

her head snapped up, eyes wide at the question. you weren’t teasing, not really. just curious, your voice smooth and even, smoke curling lazily from between your fingers as you pulled your arm back in the truck.

“um… why do you ask?” sophia chuckled nervously, voice soft but a little shaky. 

her eyes darted everywhere but you. the dashboard, the windshield, the faint glow of the chapel lights in the distance. anywhere to avoid the weight of your gaze. her fingers fidgeted in her lap, brushing over the hem of your flannel still draped across her shoulders.

you tilted your head, the corner of your mouth curling up just slightly as you took another drag and leaned back against the seat. “just curious,” you said, smoke spilling from your lips with the words. “you don’t strike me as the type who’s been kissed.”

she laughed again, too high-pitched, too awkward. “well, i-i have!” it was more of a squeak, really.

“yeah?” you asked, looking over at her with a lazy smile, glossed over eyes twinkling playfully. “by who, your hand?”

sophia’s mouth fell open, an incredulous sound escaping her as she swatted your arm, cheeks blazing pink. “oh my god, shut up!”

your laughter filled the truck, loud and warm, echoing off the metal doors. she tried to glare at you, but the corners of her lips betrayed her, curling into a reluctant smile.

you looked at her for a moment longer, the humour softening in your eyes. “i’m just sayin’, church girl like you? i figured you’d be too busy followin’ rules to break one like that. ‘specially with the dude up there.” you’d pointed up at the roof of the truck.

her smile faltered, replaced by something quieter. she looked down, thumb brushing against the fraying edge of your flannel sleeve. 

“yeah, well,” she murmured, almost to herself, “guess i’m starting to learn.”

and the way she said it, barely above a whisper, almost like a confession, made your grin fade into something else entirely. something slower. heavier. 

the cigarette burned low between your fingers.

you leaned back a little, studying her face, the way she avoided your eyes but kept tugging at the flannel sleeve like it grounded her. your voice came out low, quieter than before.

“you wanna learn how to?”

her head snapped up, eyes wide. “learn how to what?”

you raised a brow, fighting a smirk. “kiss someone.”

the colour rose instantly in her cheeks, her whole posture stiffening as if she’d just been caught doing something more sinful than being in your truck, covered by your flannel. “i—what?” she stammered, voice cracking slightly. “you’re not serious.”

you shrugged, still calm, still leaning back in that lazy way that made it seem like you had all the time in the world. 

“never been more serious.” you took one last drag from the cigarette, flicked it out the window, and turned back to her. “you said you’re learnin’, right? might as well start with somethin’ worth learnin’.”

she laughed nervously again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “you can’t just—ask that out of nowhere,” she muttered, eyes dropping to her hands.

“sure i can,” you said easily. “you can say no, if you want.”

she went quiet for a beat, chewing on her lip, thinking too hard. the hum of the night filled the space between you again. crickets, wind, the faint creak of the truck. and then, so softly you almost didn’t catch it, 

she asked,

“…what if i said yes?”

you smiled, slow and crooked, the kind that made her chest tighten. “then i’d tell you to close your eyes, church girl.”

—--

it makes me so, uh, and i can’t get enough of it. something’s been feeling weird lately. there’s just something about you, baby.

it had been a week since sophia had seen you. not that she’s been looking around for you, or jotting down the days in her calendar since the last meeting. no, certainly not. her diary certainly hadn’t been hearing your name every five fucking seconds as well. definitely not.

but god, my god, she could scrape her knees right now and she wouldn’t even bat an eye because you’d walked into the chapel. you. in the chapel. huh.

it wasn’t every sunday you decided to show up for mass, and certainly not on time.

heads turned almost immediately, conversations faltering mid-sentence as people started noticing your sudden appearance, and you, being such a thorn on their side, met their gazes, mouth curling into the faintest smirk before you pulled your cowboy hat off and held it against your chest. the movement was slow, deliberate, and respectful enough to pass.

their whispers started soon after. you heard your name once, twice, hushed under breaths that weren’t as quiet as they thought. you didn’t care. you found an empty pew near the middle and sat down, shoulders relaxed, gaze fixed straight ahead at the altar like you belonged there. maybe today, you almost did.

and from her spot near the front, sophia couldn’t look away.

she froze halfway through setting the hymn books, fingers curling around the spine of one as if that could keep her steady. 

your presence alone was enough to knock the air out of her chest. you looked the same—hair a little messy, boots scuffed from the road, that calm expression that somehow said everything and nothing all at once.

but to sophia, all she could see was that night. her first kiss, still lingering like smoke on her tongue no matter how many prayers she’d whispered since.

and now here you were, sitting in her father’s church like it was the most natural thing in the world.

she should’ve looked away. she knew that. but she couldn’t. she couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d smiled against her lips before pulling back, the faint rasp of your voice when you’d whispered, “see? not that hard.”

now, her pulse was unsteady all over again, her breath catching when your gaze flicked up and met hers for the briefest second across the room.

you didn’t smile. neither did she.

but the look said enough.

after church?

sophia nods.

—----

maybe i’ll just be crazy. and piss her off till she hates me. yeah right, she fucking loves me.

“ow,” sophia hissed as her foot caught the edge of the windowsill again, knuckles gripping the frame tight as she eased herself down. 

it wasn’t her most graceful landing—never was—but at least this time she didn’t knock over the garden lantern like the seventh time she’d tried this. 

by now, she should’ve been better at sneaking out. the bruises on her knees said otherwise.

you stood waiting beneath the window, arms crossed, that familiar crooked grin pulling at your mouth. 

the low rumble of your truck idled a few yards away, headlights off, moonlight spilling just enough to outline you. leather jacket, messy hair, that same air of trouble that made sophia’s stomach twist and flutter all at once.

“you keep makin’ that noise and your old man’s gonna come out swingin’ and i’m dead,” you teased, voice a low drawl that made her pulse skip.

she shot you a half-hearted glare, brushing dust off her nightdress before tugging on your flannel from the truck bed and pulling it over her shoulders. it was far too big, smelled faintly of smoke and motor oil, and fit way too big on her. but that was exactly why she liked it.

“you’d think i’d have learned by now,” she muttered, rubbing at her shin with a wince.

“you’d think,” you echoed, leaning close enough that your breath warmed the shell of her ear. “but maybe you just like findin’ excuses to see me.”

she tried to scoff, but it came out softer than intended, her voice betraying her with how easily it wavered. “don’t flatter yourself.”

you grinned wider, and she hated how it made her chest feel light.

“sooooo,” you drawled om, humming softly. “what’s the move tonight, laforteza?”

“you tell me.” she climbed in beside you, the seat cracked and warm from the southern night. 

your fingers brushed hers on the gearshift, casual and unhurried, and still it made her breath catch. 

as you pulled onto the dirt road leading away from the chapel, sophia glanced back once toward the steeple barely visible through the trees, cross glinting faintly in the moonlight before she looked at you again.

you caught her staring. “what?”

“nothin’,” she whispered, smiling just a little. “just… hoping god’s asleep right now.”

you laughed, low and warm, reaching for her hand. “then let’s not wake him.”

—-----

low slung bad bitch, baby, come and get you some. can you read my mind? i’ve been watching you. couldn’t fight to save your life but you look so cool.

it was the twentieth time of sophia slipping out of her window at an unreasonable time when you’d resembled that of a kicked dog. 

bruises painted your knuckles, a small cut split your lip, and a purpling shadow was already blooming under your left eye. you looked like hell. pathetic, really. and god, it made sophia want to cradle you in her arms and pepper soft kisses all over your battered face.

“god, you look like…” sophia trailed off, glancing back toward the house, eyes flicking nervously to the prayer room window before finishing with a hissed, “shit.”

her words make you laugh, boot scuffing up a bit of dust as you kicked a pebble down the dirt road, leaning lazy against your truck. “usin’ the lord’s name in vain, huh? and swearin’ on top of it. lord have mercy, i really am a bad influence on you, laforteza.”

she giggled, light and unrestrained, like she didn’t just check if the coast was clear to curse. “mm, maybe. i do hang around you too much.”

she stepped closer, thumb brushing across your cheek, her brows knitting at the sight of the split in your skin. “have you cleaned this up?”

“uh… kinda? jus’ threw some water on it, figured that’d do the trick.”

she made a face at that, grabbing your wrist gently as her eyes skimmed over the bruises scattered along your hand.

“you idiot,” she muttered, pinching your cheek. “i heard what happened from lara. i don’t know why you’d fight someone as huge as dustin.”

you groaned, shoulders slouching as you kicked at the dirt. “got me some cool scars outta it, though…”

sophia sighed, pushing you gently back toward the truck. she opened the glove compartment with ease, like she’d done it a hundred times, pulling out a box of bandages and a small bottle of alcohol she’d stashed there weeks ago. your eyes widened in alarm.

“wait, hold on, laforteza—no alcohol.”

“shut up,” she said, tone half fond, half firm. “this is what you get.”

the burn hit instantly, and you hissed, jerking back with a wince. “shit—fuck, sophia, that stings!”

sophia narrowed her eyes at you, the corners of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to smile. she caught it immediately. that was the first time you’d ever said her name instead of dragging out “laforteza” like it was a joke.

“really? that’s what makes you use my name? and don’t be such a baby,” she muttered, catching your hand again when you tried to pull away. “you’d think after throwing punches, you could handle a bit of disinfectant.”

“yeah, well, fists don’t burn near like this,” you grumbled, wincing as the alcohol bit into your skin and caused your eyes to water.

her laughter bubbled out before she could stop it. “oh, sweetheart,” she teased, voice dripping with amusement, “you’re gonna cry over a little alcohol?”

“it’s just—” you bit your tongue, cheeks heating up. “it’s just the damn burn, that’s all.”

“swear?” she raised her brows, eyes watching how you sniffled like a big baby at the sting of the alcohol on your split knuckles.

“swear.”

sophia’s smile softened. her thumb brushed under your eye, and something in her chest squeezed tight. the sight of you, rumpled, bruised, and still trying to act tough, made her heart stumble.

she could still smell the cigarette smoke clinging to your jacket, the faint salt of dried sweat, the warmth radiating from your skin under her palm.

and just like that, it hit her. hard, deep, and terrifying.

oh, shit.

she might actually be in love with you.

—------

good men die too, so i’d rather be with you.

sophia stirs at 3 a.m. at the constant tapping on her window, eyes bleary and fuzzy as she sits up in bed. she groans, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with one hand, and huffs, dragging herself out from under the covers. the tapping comes again, sharper this time, and she realizes with a groan that it’s not the house. it’s pebbles, small stones hitting the glass rhythmically.

she pads across her room, the floorboards cold under her bare feet, and squints through the moonlit haze. there you are, standing below her window, hands shoved deep in your jacket pockets, a sheepish grin on your bruised face. the moonlight catches the swelling under your eye and the cut on your lip, and the sight twists something painfully tight in her chest.

her breath hitches. “…what are you doing out there?” she whispers, brows knitting together, voice rough from sleep.

you grin, shrugging lightly. “phia, i’m runnin’ away.”

her heart drops. “what?”

“yeah,” you mutter, looking anywhere but her. “plannin’ on leavin’ now. came to say bye. my uncle, y’know, the homophobic one? he found out i’m into girls and,” you chuckled nervously, running a bandaged hand through your hair. 

sophia’s blood runs cold, stomach twisting, chest tightening. panic surges through her veins. she’d only just realized what that flutter in her chest meant when you laughed, what that ache behind her ribs was when you smiled at her.

she’s in love with you. and now you’re leaving. without her. headed god knows where, unable to follow you.

the air feels impossibly thick, heavy with the scent of summer night, grass, and something faintly metallic from the bruise on your lip. she stands frozen, gripping the window frame, unable to form words, and watches as you shuffle your weight, shoulders slumping, exhaling softly.

“um… sorry for wakin’ ya, phia,” you continue quietly, voice soft, almost hesitant. “i’ll… see myself out, i guess.”

her lips part, but no sound comes. the silence stretches, taut like a wire.

“are you really not gonna ask me to come with you?” she finally whispers, voice breaking at the last word.

you blink at her, startled. “…you wanna come with me?”

her eyes widen as if she’s seen a ghost. “…are you serious?”

“i just… didn’t think you’d wanna come with me of all people…” you gaped at her, jaw falling slack and she rolls her eyes.

“…give me a few,” she mutters, voice tight, and darts back into her house, boots slapping softly against the floorboards.

inside, drawers slide open and slam shut. her hands fumble, pulling clothes and a small bag together, tossing them over her shoulder with hurried movements. every sound is amplified in the quiet of the house—her breath, the rustle of fabric, the thud of sneakers against hardwood.

you lean against the truck, arms crossed, watching the moonlight trace her movements through the window. after a few long minutes, the window creaks again, and bundles of clothes tumble down to you. 

a second later, she climbs out herself, your missing leather jacket tied around her waist, bag slung over her shoulder, hair messy and wild in the soft moonlight. huh… so that’s where it went.

“hold up,” she hisses, landing lightly beside you, boots scuffing against the asphalt.

you take her hand instinctively, thumb brushing along her knuckles. she shivers at the contact, eyes wide.

“you ready?” you whisper, pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head, opening the door for her and placing her clothes in the back of your truck, peering down at her in concern. “no turning back now.”

sophia swallows thickly and glances back at the house, all quiet and dead asleep, then back at you. nodding. “yeah. let’s get out of here,”

she enters the truck and so do you, engine running as you start to drive away from her house, humming under your breath. 

“hey,” you mutter after a moment.

“yeah?”

you grip the wheel a little tighter, then glance over at her with a small grin. “just so y’know… i think i might be in love with you.”

for a second, sophia just stares. like she’s not sure she heard you right. then, soft laughter bubbles out of her. she reaches over, takes your free hand, and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“good,” she murmurs, smiling against your skin. “’cause it would’ve been real awkward if i was in love with you and we ran away together without you feeling the same.”

oh, i’d rather be with you. ‘cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you.

a/n. um... quite embarrassing that it took me almost four months to finish this and not only that... its wayyyy off what i originally wanted this fic to look like... scratched head. nonetheless, i hope u guys enjoyed it😭😭 i'll continue to keep working on the event n the reqs i dont like how this turned out🫩