in which... alysa enjoys reader's possessiveness, not realizing it stems from their insecurities. as soon as she realizes, she rushes to reassure reader in various ways. reader is described as being taller than alysa.
a/n — something low effort while i work on better stuff :) i hope it's not too bad (TヘT)
word count — 3.5k
it all happened so quickly — you promised yourself you wouldn't rush into things like this.
yet here you were, on a rooftop with a girl you'd only known for a month, limbs tangled, lips connecting as gently as possible, too much care poured into them for it to be passed off as two friends experimenting.
you knew alysa was a rising star, that every day she gained more and more recognition, and as somebody she was often seen with, you'd be mistaken to think that you wouldn't be caught up in the spotlight.
but when you felt her soft fingertips brush over your cheek, her teeth graze your skin, or her breath mingle with yours, the fear of the public's opinion was the last thing on your mind.
the day alysa asked you to be your girlfriend felt like something out of a dream.
the same rooftop lit by scented candles, your favourite flowers scattered around, alysa dressed in the outfit you complimented the week before.
you could tell she was nervous. this time, she couldn't keep up the confident facade.
you weren't used to the meek side of her, the one where you could tell she was trying to make sure all the words came out perfectly, but they still came out in a quieter, more hesitant tone than she'd usually use.
alysa hesitated for many reasons, but one of them was the hectic life she'd been leading after her success at the 2026 olympics.
did she have the energy, time and will to commit?
would the media go easy on you two?
she had convinced herself she could handle it all — the training, the competitions, the tours, the newfound stardom, everything while still maintaining a social life and avoiding another burnout.
you were scared too — terrified, of what everybody might think, say and do.
then again, you’d be fools to refuse trying.
so she asked you out, on a real, official date.
and you accepted.
you decided it was best to keep this secret. just between you two, in a soft space in your hearts where nobody could reach and interfere with what you've built.
at first, it took some time getting used to.
dropping her hand when you were no longer in an empty, dark, arguably sketchy alleyway.
trying to figure out what proximity between you two would make people think that you're two affectionate, clingy friends, and not give out the fact that you were two stupidly-in-love idiots trying to navigate a relationship that nobody knew of.
alysa was serious about hiding it.
you? not so much.
obviously you still respected her wishes and didn't tell your friends…
but it was getting a little frustrating seeing a thirst edit of her everytime you opened tiktok. to see everybody in the comments fawning over her.
it was even more frustrating to be well aware of the fact you couldn't do anything about it.
it started with normal edits.
just clips of her skating, smiling, getting ready..
normal, tame videos.
then it moved on to videos captioned with..
“i need dat”
“she's my wife”
“i need her so bad”
“the things i’d do to her”
the comment sections were filled with comments of the same nature.
everybody thirsting over your girlfriend.
everybody pretending that alysa was anybody but yours.
you were tired of keeping secret, you wanted everyone to know who alysa belonged to.
there wasn't much you could do. you couldn't post something that might give you out.
so you went on your other account — only followed by alysa and your mutual friends.
shortly after, you went on a rampage, trying to get people to quit whatever they thought they were doing.
when somebody would comment “wife me up alysa”, you'd respond with: “i think she has a gf”
when somebody would comment “🔥🔥🔥”, you wouldn't hesitate to respond with: “🧯🧯🧯 “
when somebody would comment “thats OUR wife”, you'd reply with: “you mean my wife..?”
each comment you left got more and more obvious.
alysa had mentioned that she rarely saw any edits of herself, which eased your worries when it came to her seeing your display of jealousy.
however, you forgot a person you were mutuals with who unfortunately had a habit of checking the comment section of every tiktok she found interesting: amber glenn.
while getting her fix of daily midnight doom scrolling, she opened the comment section of an alysa edit — seeing your reply under the top comment.
username
why'd you post such a long video of OUR wife?
⤷ yourusername
you mean my wife…?
amber chuckled, taking a screenshot.
she wasn't in on this whole secret relationship thing — none of your friends were, but she had her suspicions.
around close friends, you were a little more comfortable with smaller displays of affection like longer hugs and leaning your head on her shoulder.
amber had seen how alysa looked at you when you weren't looking. how her eyes looked ready to get lost in every detail of your appearance, no matter how small.
she saw how you clung to her. she saw how you were eachothers safe space.
she never said anything out of respect — maybe you two were just really affectionate friends. she wasn't entitled to knowing the details of it all.
she opened instagram, staring at alysa's profile.
she hesitated for a minute, but caved in.
sent the screenshot.
she texted: “looks like someone's got a wedding to plan 👀” and went to bed.
⋆⋆⋆
alysa was sprawled out on her couch, lazing around on her phone.
when her phone buzzed in her hand, amber's name displaying on the screen, alysa didn't think much of it. she thought amber sent her some silly reel or another picture she took of alysa that could be used as blackmail material.
she clicked on the notification, only to be greeted with the screenshot amber had taken earlier, accompanied by a cheeky little “looks like someone's got a wedding to plan 👀”.
her initial reaction was to laugh.
the reply was from your secret account, one fans didn't know about, so she dodged all worries of somebody finding out.
she wouldn't admit it, but alysa secretly liked you acting that way. she liked seeing you possessive, she liked seeing the frustration in your eyes every time somebody tried to hit on her. she was obsessed with the thought of you wanting her that bad, completely oblivious to the effects it would have on you.
“haha, maybe” she texted back, quickly downloading the photo and sending it to you before turning off her phone, glancing at the clock, taking the late hour as her sign to go to bed.
⋆⋆⋆
alysa didn't realize that she'd struck a chord deep within you.
so when she woke up to several messages from you that were not the usual “GOODMORNING!!! HOW DID YOU SLEEP?? You slept right???”, she was taken off guard.
instead of getting interrogated about her sleep first thing in the morning with a text that had an unnecessary amount of question marks, she was greeted by a:
“i’m sorry lysa
i hate seeing them act like youre theirs
i promise i’ll stop
please don't be mad at me”
alysa couldn't understand why she was seeing a string of panicked text instead of the playful clapbacks she'd grown fond of.
when the realization that you weren't joking around washed over her, her fingers rushed to the keyboard.
“wait wait wait
why are you apologizing?
we need to talk
meet me at the rooftop 10pm”
as soon as she hit the send button, the guilt started gnawing at her heart.
maybe you weren't being playful with her fans.
maybe your reactions came out of a place of possessiveness rooted in fear and insecurity instead.
before she had time to fully spiral, her phone started vibrating in her hand, accompanied by her screen displaying a notification that somebody was calling her.
her manager.
her thumb reluctantly moved to accept the call.
each word that came out of her manager's mouth felt like an announcement of her death sentence
her day was packed with photoshoots and interviews, and she wouldn't have a chance to speak to you or see you during the day.
so there she was, alone in her room, feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world for her obliviousness in regards to your feelings.
alysa went through her day with a foggy mind and an ache that her chest undeniably caused by the guilt and anxiety rushing through her blood.
⋆⋆⋆
when all the media obligations were over with, she unlocked her car, plopping down in her seat with a shaky exhale.
to her side, was the hoodie she stole from your closet before going abroad for her competitions as something to ground her, a piece of you that kept an illusion that you were there with her.
without thinking twice, she unzipped her jacket and put on the hoodie, taking in the scent that still lingered weeks after you'd last put it on.
alysa checked the time.
9 pm. she had some time left until she had to meet you at the rooftop.
her head made a soft thump against the car's window as she leaned on it, her eyes drifting to the stars illuminating the night sky.
her mind wandered to all the different scenarios, all the ways she could make it up to you, apologize for her ignorance in more ways than a lousy “sorry”..
her eye caught on a particularly bright star, an idea sparking in her mind..
stargazing date.
she could stargaze with you on the rooftop.
the stars were unusually bright that night, considering she was located in a city with such high rates of light pollution.
she decided to take up on the opportunity, starting her car.
she set the radio to her favourite station, the song only background noise while she planned out the date.
when she arrived at her favourite flower show, she parked her car nearby and greeted the girl working there for the night.
the worker helped her assemble the perfect bouquet — flowers you had mentioned you thought were beautiful, assorted in a mesmerizing gradient.
the drive to the rooftop was agonizingly long, the air around her becoming thick with her anxiety.
her hands reached to turn on the radio, but the music did nothing to distract her from how apprehensive she was.
she rushed to the rooftop with only 20 minutes left, setting up blankets, drinks, a shaky sigh escaping her mouth.
the stars illuminate in the otherwise pitch black sky, catching alysa's gaze.
she hasn't felt this anxious in years — she didn't expect to become familiar with this ache in her chest so soon.
she feared what would happen if she worded her apology weirdly, if you stopped trusting her (did you ever trust her at all?), if you shut down.. the endless possibilities made her heart race and brain fog up until she was reduced to a paralyzed, scared mess.
when the realization that you'd be here in around five minutes hit her, she felt as if her heart had been lodged in her throat, still, she tried to keep a nonchalant expression, putting on her usual smile.
she glanced at her phone — 9:59PM. she heard footsteps. ones that sounded identical to yours.
⋆⋆⋆
10:00PM.
moment of truth.
you walked to the spot you and alysa always met up at whenever you needed some fresh air and space away from all the noise the real world produced.
alysa seemed to be holding something — a bouquet? she was nervous. you could tell from the exhale when you made eye contact. she tried to mask it with a slight smile, though you could tell her heart might as well burst out of her chest any second now.
as your body moved closer, you held out your arms, inviting her in an embrace.
the silence for the first few moments was suffocating — you held each other with a rib-crushing grip, neither of you showing signs of letting go any time soon.
your nose was buried in the top of the shorter girl's head, savoring her scent. it'd only been a day since you last saw each other, a day too long.. still, you clung to her like never before.
you were the first to pull away, hands coming up from her waist to cup her face, gently pinching her cheek, eliciting a soft giggle from her.
alysa stepped back, enough to properly hand you the bouquet, a shy smile on her face.
“lys-”
speaking was pointless, she was already leaning in to place the softest kiss on your lips, pouring all her affection in it.
as soon as you both pull away, you murmur: “you really didn't have to.”
her eyes dart up and down your outfit and back to the flowers.
“they match your outfit.”
you chuckle, holding onto the bouquet as if it was a lifeline.
“they really do.”
alysa's fingers came to intertwine with yours, leading you to your usual spot..the one where you'd written your initials with a marker, drawing a heart around them, the one where you'd placed a love locket on the rails, where you put a pot of flowers in the corner, coming back every now and then to check on them.
that familiar, comforting warmth in the air had returned, replacing the earlier tension.
everything felt just right. it was just the two of you, next to each other. nothing else mattered.
she had brought her camera, taking a plethora of pictures of the both of you, of the sky, one with you holding up the flowers to your face so that only your eyes were visible, the stars glimmering in the background…
you pretended not to notice how her gaze lingered on you a few seconds too long, how she took more pictures than she usually did, how her touch lingered…
how she would speak about the constellations above, mapping them out with such passion, telling you about the meaning behind their names…
she would point out a star and say “this one reminds me of you.”
she would feel the texture on your face, grazing it with her fingertips, whispering “your face reminds me of the sky. beautiful constellations covering it.. how beautiful.”
every now and then, she'd press soft kisses on your face, her breath mingling with yours when she'd press her cheek on yours.
she was yours, and she made sure you knew it.
⋆⋆⋆
rooftop dates had become your thing.
every night, 10pm, stargazing, tangled limbs, scented candles…
it was the perfect way to wind down after a long day.
alysa's fame kept increasing, there were less and less places she could go to without being recognized, and the rooftop was one of the only private places she had left where she could take a breather, where she could have uninterrupted quality time with you without someone staring from afar, taking photos and invading her space.
or so she thought.
because unbeknownst to the both of you, every night you left your apartment, in each other's clothes whether it would be hoodies or alysa's iconic nike sweatpants, fingers intertwined, no makeup, in silly slippers if the weather had allowed.. somebody noticed.
noticed her striped hair, the sweatpants, the matching hoodies.
noticed how she clung onto you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the whole world.
they weren't the only one who noticed alysa being absolutely smitten with you..
somebody else had seen you filming her during stars on ice practice session, occasionally blowing kisses whenever she would land something, blatantly showing off all the abilities she'd spent years working on.
people noticed that she was always doing something, whether it be holding doors open for you, holding and carrying your bags, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, trying (and failing) to look casual, giggling a little too much at everything you said..
she wasn't aware of how obvious she was. in her mind, she was just showing her love in the small ways she knew how.
she didn't realize that this was the 21st century where everybody had phones.
where everybody knew who alysa liu, the golden girl with dyed stripes was.
where everybody could..and did film her.
so when amber sent her a short video montage on tiktok consisting of clips where you two had been extremely affectionate, she was thoroughly surprised.
“BUSTEDDD” amber texted.
alysa never told amber about the relationship, but it had been made clear to her that denying was no longer of any use.
the whole world knew, all that was left was for her to confirm what everybody was already seeing.
the door clicked open, revealing you in her baggy shirt and a pair of shorts you'd dug out from your closet, having just come out of the shower.
“what, why do you look like you just saw a ghost?” you asked, confused at the expression on her face, unable to make out what it was.
“look.” she muttered, holding her phone out for you to take.
the montage played.
some cute, romantic song.
clips of alysa holding your hand.
wearing your hoodie.
pictures of you on top of a rooftop.
hugging you a second too long for it to be “friendly”.
“oh my god,” you murmured. “they caught on.”
“they did.”
“well…what do we do now?” you questioned, laying down next to her.
“well we can't deny it.” alysa answered matter of factly, setting her phone down. her fingers roamed to your hair, tangling in it while she massaged your scalp. “we can tease them.”
“..huh?”
“we can be super obvious about it. im talking finally go on those fancy dates, kiss each other's cheek, hold hands everywhere, match outfits, post together...full package.”
“you're not real.” your eyes shot up to hers, trying to gauge if she was being serious..and to your surprise, she was.
“i'm serious!”
“you're serious?”
“please?” she insisted, putting on her best puppy eyes to plead with yours.
“fine, but only cuz you looked at me like a dumb puppy.” you said, caving in, rolling your eyes.
“nahh, you just want an excuse to kiss me more.” she teased between kisses.
“shut up.”
⋆⋆⋆
you did exactly as alysa said — she would add your matching keychains to her photodumps, not tagging you, instead letting her fans figure out who it is. she would make sure you were in the background of her posts at all times. she would hold your waist, kiss you, play with your hair without a care in the world, the thought of having an audience never crossing her mind.
you practically preened, indulging and encouraging her behaviour, sitting in her lap, whispering into her ear, making sure someone's watching just to see the look on their faces when alysa's face would turn a crimson red.
you knew that in a matter of hours clips of you two would pop up on your fyp.
seeing everyone figure out and affirm that alysa was yours satisfied you in every way possible.
alysa enjoyed being viewed as yours.
she loved when somebody would comment on how she's practically attached to your hip, how they've never seen you two apart..
your relationship status had never been confirmed. not explicitly, at least.
neither you or alysa posted something stating that you two are dating, and alysa avoided the topic of her love life during interviews, which left some room for speculation.
people were starting to hit on alysa again. even more seriously this time. walking up to her, asking for her number… as if your arm hadn't been wrapped around your waist, signaling to everybody that she's yours and yours only.
alysa had noticed how you began to hold her a little tighter, how you glared at strangers and paparazzi who dared lay eyes on her.
she noticed that jealousy fire up again, and she knew that this time, you would snap harder.
she increased pda even further.
as much as she enjoyed watching you scare off people trying to get close to her, she did not enjoy the thought of anyone but you looking at her how you did. she did not enjoy the thought of somebody else touching her like you did, speaking to her like you did…
so on a tuesday night, tipsy on some cheap alcohol, she leaned in to plant kisses all over your neck, her red lip tint making its presence known all over your neck.
she didn't hesitate leaving a few hickeys, something she avoided doing altogether.
“let me take a picture. please.” she managed to gasp out.
you were panting, desperately trying to catch your breath.
“what for?”
“i want to post them, show them that we're official. that we're serious. please.”
“do it.”
alysa obliged, taking a handful of blurry pictures, the warm lighting helping the camera capture the intimacy of the moment.
she didn't waste any more time. she opened instagram, selecting a picture for her story, tagging you and adding the 💋 emoji next to your tag, not bothering to add a caption.
the marks spoke for themselves.
as soon as she hit post, she threw her phone back across the bed, leaning back in to kiss you, pouring all her love and desire into each kiss.
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𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡... reader and alysa have completely different aesthetics, which draws them to eachother more than they anticipated.
𝐚/𝐧 — sorry i've been slacking off w/writing... i promise im coming back. i've been focusing on friends n school. masc lysa does something to me.. anyways. i love this pairing !! didnt know what to do for a oneshot so i decided to do headcanons instead. hope you guys like this too 😽🤍
❀ alysa picks things up for you if you drop something because she knows you struggle with bending down whilst wearing high heels, or simply doesn't want others seeing your skirt ride up.
❀ she lets you do her makeup, often asking for advice on which shade looks best on her, or what eyeliner makes her eyes pop out better.
“wanna go to sephora?” alysa murmurs into your neck, her leg draped over your waist.
“..what are you doing in sephora?” you chuckle, looking at her incredulously.
“i need some makeup.”
“for what?” you raise an eyebrow.
“for..events and stuff.”
“alright then.”
as soon as you stepped into the building, she dragged you over to the make-up section.
“okay. so we got...this shade. and this shade.” she said, holding to lip tints up near her lips.
you rubbed your chin, pretending to think deeply.
“this one.” you say, pointing to the more muted shade on the left.
“great.”
❀ she refuses to let you pay, she's always fighting for the bill.
❀ you 'trained' her to become your personal photographer, showing her composition and lighting tips, making sure everything looked just right.
“no- lys, to the right. look at the grid! my head's supposed to be in the center.”
“but it is!”
“i can tell that it is not! also, brightness down!”
“whatever you say, your majesty!”
you giggle in response to that, and she perfectly captures your smile mid-giggle.
❀ since your aesthetics are so different, its really hard for the two of you to match. so when she takes you skating, you take the opportunity to make matching outfits for the two of you, knowing its one of the only times she dresses feminine.
❀ when she has to go to an event where she can't dress masculine, if her outfit isnt already picked out for her, she facetimes you to ask what looks best on her.
❀ sometimes she makes appearances on your blog, and she swears she hates it and thinks its cheesy, but after a bit she started asking you to take pictures together on dates or hangouts, and would (try to) nonchalantly say “oh this one's cute” and point to a picture of the two of you whenever you would post a photo dump.
❀ Fans constantly compare you two, commenting on the opposite aesthetics. You would often get papped, Alysa wearing her signature Nike pants and an oversized hoodie, and you wearing a short skirt and tight long sleeve top, paired with tights and leg warmers.
❀ When sketching out costume concepts, she always asks for your help and makes you help her pick out songs for her programs.
❀ There is not a single moment where she's not touching you. Whether it be a hand on your waist, pinky interlinked with yours, or a rib crushing hug, she has to have some form of physical contact or she'll go insane.
❀ She's very protective and refuses to leave your side when you're out together, doesn't let interviewers, coaches or anybody else speak badly of you. She hides you from paparazzi and gets very confrontational when they invade your space.
❀ Your wardrobes are polar opposites, so when you borrow a hoodie or she borrows a sweater, everybody notices, but neither of you mind - you like that everybody knows that you belong to eachother.
𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡...reader owns a medium sized snake that is basically intertwined with their body, which makes alysa hesitate to hug reader, prompting her to always ask first.
𝐚/𝐧 — reader has a boa constrictor named evelyn (or evie for short). i dont know shittt about snakes so I hope this is still good!! enjoy 🤍
the first time alysa came over to your apartment, you spent the first hour showing around — explaining the backstory of each trinket in the clay trays you'd made yourself, the meaning behind every painting put up on your wall, and apologizing a thousand times for how messy everything looked.
but alysa didn't mind the mess — infact she found it cozy. she loved the earthy theme your apartment had, loved the vines hanging up, the incense and the scented candles. she loved how the curtains made the sun rays look the warmest shade of orange-yellow, how there were different kinds of plants everywhere, and how visibly you had to hold yourself back from talking her ear off about them.
you went through the living room, the bathroom, the kitchen, the hallway, and the little room for all your crafts, and now it was your bedroom's turn.
you open the door, moving to the side to make room for her to walk in.
the first thing she notices is your bed — lots of pillows and plushies on it. then she notices the plants and pictures hanging over it. she eyes the posters and random junk taped all over the walls.
as she's complimenting your room, she turns to her side, her mouth widening when she notices the huge boa constrictor enclosure. now she turns to face you, her facial expression shocked as she stammers.
“i- you”
“she's not venomous.” you smile, expecting such a reaction from her.
“do you keep her in there all the time?” she asks, her voice a little quieter than usual as she tries to hide her fear.
“um, not really. only when someone new is coming over.”
“so what do you do when someone...isnt new? or when you're alone?” when someone isnt new? she mentally slaps herself as she realizes what she just said.
“well,” you let out a soft laugh. “she usually just hangs on me. we're practically intertwined.”
“aren't you scared she's gonna.. strangle you or something?” alysa asks, her voice now trembling.
“oh not at all. shes quite docile.”
alysa sighs in relief.
“... what's her name?”
“evelyn.”
“cool. cool..”
you smile as she seems to be calming down.
“so, do you wanna meet her?”
you raise an eyebrow, that smile turning into a smirk as you watch her gulp.
“sure. how do you...meet a snake?”
“well, I'll hold her for a bit and we can sit on my bed or on the couch while she's around me so you can start getting used to her. and then if you're not so scared maybe I'll let you hold her huh?”
“yeah..yeah..okay. let's do that.”
you let evelyn wrap around your body, getting ticklish as she wraps around your bare waist.
alysa's eyes wander back to the snake loosely wrapped around your waist.
“you let her do that?”
“we practically live like this.” you answer casually, like it's no big deal.
alysa just laughs softly and sits on the couch, patting the space next to her as a gesture for you to sit by her, evelyn still wrapped around you.
you turn on some movie — not that you're paying any attention to it.
you're rambling about your day, alysa is showing you concept designs of future costumes she sketched during breaks in-between practices, the conversation flowing so effortlessly, like you've known each other for eternity.
you notice how her thumb moves to rub you hand with the softness she made sure to reserve for you. how her body relaxed further with each second spent in each other's proximity.
the topic of snakes has been left behind long ago, alysa allowing herself to exist near evelyn without fear consuming her.
up until it's time for her to go home, that is.
alysa looks at her phone, noticing it's almost dinner time. she looks up at you, quickly glancing towards evelyn before speaking.
“i have to go home. i'm seeing family today.” she mutters, unhappy about having to move from the comfy spot on the couch she's claimed as hers, and having to say goodbye until the next time you see eachother.
a pout forms on your face as you register her words.
“so soon?”
“i know. i wish i could stay longer.”
she stands up, holding out a hand to help you stand up.
you laugh, taking it by instinct.
“and they say chivalry is dead.”
alysa's smile turns into a smug smirk, trying to act nonchalant as she shrugs.
“what can i say. im quite the gentlewoman if i say so myself.”
that gets a giggle out of you, your hand moving to flick her forehead.
“ouch, rude!” she says, rubbing the spot where you flicked her. she slings her bag over her shoulder so effortlessly, it makes your breath hitch in your throat like a stupid schoolgirl.
theres a soft smile on your face now, uncertainty creeping in as you try to figure out what to say.
she leans in for a hug, and midway, she stops, gesturing to your snake.
“um. how do i hug you with...evelyn on?”
you look down, realizing your snake is still wrapped around you. you bark out a laugh, going to set evelyn on the couch, running up to pull alysa in a hug not long after.
alysa whines in your ear.
“hey, careful, you're gonna crush my ribs!”
that doesnt phase you, your body refusing to pull away from the hug.
you hear a giggle come out of her mouth.
“your snake is watching us.”
thats what makes you pull away just enough to take a short glance at evelyn, her tongue sticking out.
you look back at alysa, cupping her cheeks before pulling her into a soft kiss.
the next few times she comes over, you unconsciously create a routine — alysa kicks her shoes off, puts her bag on the couch and asks “where's evelyn?”, “is evie here?”, “how's evelyn doing?” and would go straight to your bedroom to say hi.
she would stay up at night, falling into internet rabbit holes about snakes, sending you endless snake care and research articles.
she'd buy things for her enclosure, spending hours at the pet store making sure she got the appropriate things.
eventually, she worked up the courage to pick your snake up, constantly asking you how to properly handle her.
you'd just look at her, a fond smile painted on your face as you patiently explained, watching her listen with the same expression she always made when she was focused on something — her tongue sticking out from the side of her lips, or biting her bottom lip.
you would assure her she was doing everything right, watching their bond grow closer and closer.
still, evelyn obviously preferred you. it was you whose body she was wrapped around ninety percent of the time.
and whenever alysa wanted to hug you, she would do that thing with her fingers where she tries to gesture for you to take evie off of you so she could give you a proper hug.
you would just laugh and find the nearest surface to set your snake down, praying she won't cause any ruckus in the few seconds you spent wrapped in alysa's warm embrace.
alysa started coming over more often, often sleeping over, sometimes for weeks at a time.
and each time, you watched her grow more and more comfortable with evelyn, her habit of gesturing with her fingers for a hug never going away.
𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡... reader decides to organize a movie night with alysa, where alysa opens up about her crush, and readers jealousy issues come to the surface.
𝐚/𝐧 sorry y'all im shitttt at writing so this is really bad. but im working on it i promise!
it's just another tuesday, the trimester is finally over and you can relax for a bit without having to worry about your grades.
so, you do what you've done since middle school, and call your best friend over for a movie night. but it's not really calling her over - you share a college dorm. but with skating, friends, family, studying…her schedule is so cramped, it feels like she's not here anymore. like she doesn't have time for you. but still, you reach for your phone.
you:
movie night? 9pm :)
alysa ♥:
i am not watching shit with u bro 😭
you:
not my fault u can't handle horror..
ok fine
you pick. we'll watch ur stupid romcoms
alysa ♥:
get popcorn
doritos too pls
you:
okayokay. just show up
alysa ♥:
see u 😽
you:
you're in the other room bro
alysa ♥:
girl whatever
—————————————————————
the tv is still on, some show playing as alysa rested her head on your shoulder.
your attention was no longer on the show but on the girl sitting next to you, looking so content with just co-existing in the same space as you.
“this show's boring,” you say, eating the popcorn you guys got.
“yeah. i like talking to you way more.” she said, nuzzling closer.
“you like talking to me?” a hint of disbelief in your voice as you respond.
alysa just rolled her eyes, flicking your forehead.
“seriously? ofcourse i do!” she says, her voice a little incredulous.
a soft smile paints your face, your hand fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as you speak.
“so..what do you wanna talk about?”
there's a brief silence as alysa thinks.
all of a sudden she sounds a little shy, avoiding eye contact with you.
“actually..i..i think i like this girl. and i need your advice..”
you raise an eyebrow, looking down at her, trying to meet her eyes. your surprise is obvious, and you can only hope your jealousy doesn't follow suit.
you'd be lying if you said your heart wasn't racing, and you didn't feel like you were suffocating.
you finally had her to yourself again, this girl was going to steal her from you. you dont even realize its jealousy — you don't even know what you're feeling. but you know your throat is closing up and your heart is racing.
“oh? who's the lucky girl?” your voice sounds timid, your eyes scrambling to look anywhere but at her.
her breath hitches, almost like she didn't expect the question.
“well im still not sure if i like her, so I don't know if I wanna say..i..that makes sense right?”
bullshit. she knows she likes her, and she knows it's you. but you don't know that.
you let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding in, relief coursing through you as you respond,
"yeah. its probably just some small crush. nothing important"
the atmosphere gets tense, filled with unspoken words.
“y-yeah youre right.” she stumbled on her words, nervously shifting around.
“what exactly do you need my advice for?”
“well, i wanted your help on confessing to her. and seeing if she maybe likes me back.”
your heart drops, and the atmosphere suddenly feels very tense.
“um. sure. how does she..act with you?”
you dont even know if you should be helping. “I'll get replaced,” you think to yourself. “what am i doing?”
“well..” alysa gets giddy, she unconsciously nuzzles closer, a smile on her face. “she's the sweetest girl out there. she's unbelievably kind. she makes you feel so seen, and she makes sure you know she would take a bullet for you. we spend so much time together and im not really sure if theres anything about me she doesnt know.”
“cute.” you say. “but i don't think you need a girlfriend right now yknow..” the jealousy in your voice is becoming more and more evident.
you feel something unknown course through your veins. who is this girl?
alysa looks genuinely confused, taken aback by your statement and how certain you were.
“why do you think so?”
“i mean..college..family..friends..skating. you dont think i- i mean..your friends..and everyone else are enough?”
she catches on, a little smirk on her face at the realization.
oh.
“youre jealous.”
“what?! why would i be?”
“you think I'll spend more time with her.”
“i-”
you stammer. how do you deny that? you just look at your hands, fidgeting with them.
you bring your knees to your chest, hugging them as you stare off to wherever.
her smirk turns into something softer.
“hey.”
“im sorry alysa. its stupid..i know.”
“its not.”
“it is.”
“y/n,”
you hum, looking up at her.
“you've been my closest friend for well, years now..you think im letting anyone replace you?”
“but..the way you described her..its..she likes you back alysa. and y'know. I'm happy for you. but dont..dont sit here and lie to me that we won't drift apart. because..girlfriend stuff, dude, you'll go on dates, sleepovers, spend much more time together. so..i..its..on me. i have a jealousy problem and i promise, ill work on it. get your girl, lys.”
her smile doesnt falter. her hand comes up to your chin, lifting your head up a bit from your knees.
“you say all this but you dont even know who i like.”
“what does it matter? regardless of who it is, you'll have to spend more time with her than me.”
she gulps, hesitating a bit. her smile drops.
“what if…what if she's you?”
your eyes widen a bit, a nervous laugh coming out of you.
“but its not.”
is it?
“but,” her smile returns, as soft as the first time she smiled at you. it was like you were kids again — both shy, both reluctant to say something. and that soft, shy smile is there to ground you through all the butterflies and fear.
“she is. for a while now.”
you sit up, turning around so you can make proper eye contact. she does the same.
“this isnt funny alysa.”
“im not joking.”
a small silence encompasses you.
“..why me?”
“dont get me started.”
you laugh, leaning into her.
“for the record…i..i like you too. if it wasnt obvious already.
she puts her head on her shoulder, her hand intertwining with yours.
“sorry for the distance. i..i just..needed some time away to think. and trust me. i know what i want now.” her heart is heavy, her hands wrapping around your arm.
“what do you want?”
“you.”
you giggle.
“youre the cheesy type arent you.”
“dont get sick of me!”
“no promises.”
she looks at you longingly, her lips curving into a small smile.
you look back at her, cupping her cheek, rubbing it softly.
“can i?” she murmurs, looking like shes barely holding herself back.
“please.”
and with that, she sits in your lap, her fingers tangling in your hair as she presses a soft kiss to your lips.
you smile into the kiss, just letting yourself melt in her arms.
“i love you.” she looks a little hesitant as she says it, but nonetheless, forces herself to utter the words that have been threatening to spill out for the past years.
a blush creeps up your face, and you cup her cheek, looking at those deep brown eyes.
𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡... after breaking up, alysa goes on to win the gold medal at the 2026 Winter Olympics. reader finds out and posts a tiktok saying "wdym my ex is a fucking Olympic Gold Champion", which alysa sees and posts about it on her instagram story.
𝐚/𝐧 okay so the SECOND i got this request i was like bro. i gotta do this. THANK YOU ANON. I wasn't sure how to write the ending so i hope its not underwhelming! hope you guys like 😽
you were sitting on your balcony, wearing a thin hoodie and some sweatpants as you stared out into Oakland's skyline. You'd long given up on trying to look for the stars — the billboards and lights would have to do. It was a chilly night, but the weather didn't bother you — you had a cigarette in between your fingers to warm you up.
eventually, staring into space started to bore you, so you took out your phone to have your daily doomscrolling session.
your go-to is tiktok, and you dont expect much — some hopecore, brainrot, an edit of some random person here and there, and that was really it.
and, edit you see, but its not some random person, its alysa liu.
holding up her two gold medals, both shining like the stars you longed to see. her halos were much more prominent now, a reflection of how bold she became when it came to shamelessly expressing herself.
at first, you didnt have much of a reaction — sure your lips were parted and your eyes looked like you'd seen a ghost, but the pure shock coursing through you didnt really let you do much else.
alysa, the girl who'd sworn she'd never step on the ice again. holding her two gold medals.
and now it makes sense.
now you know why you truly broke up.
you turn off your phone, burying your head in your knees as memories come flooding back to you.
“i just feel like we've grown apart. like dating is a chore, something i have to squeeze in my schedule...not something that fulfills me like it once did.”
like it once did.
you remember those words — the tone in which they were said, the facial expression accompanying it..everything.
you remember when she first quit — how much time you guys spent together, how..invested she was.
and then you remember when she came out of retirement.
the times you saw her choose skating over you. and those times got more frequent as she immersed herself into the competitive field more and more.
i can get used to this, you thought. it wont be for long.
but you were so wrong.
several dates missed and a few too many diary pages dedicated to her, you decided, okay fine. we can come back from this.
and yet again, you were wrong.
because the next time you saw eachother, she sat you down, and you had your final conversation.
“this isnt working out,”
she spat.
“we've grown apart.”
you remember trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.
“its because of skating, right? is that it? you dont have time for me anymore?”
by now, your voice was trembling.
“no, like i said. we just can't be.”
and that's the last thing she said.
atleast the last thing you heard before you had started full on sobbing.
you ashed out the cigarette, and soon enough, nicotine wasn't enough. you needed something stronger.
before you know it, your legs have brought you to the kitchen, rolling up a joint to hopefully atleast get you sleepy.
you head back to the balcony, starting the joint. you turn on your phone, texting your friend about the whole situation.
“omg thats insane, i wouldn't shut up about it.” they say.
by now, your movements have gotten a little clumsy, your mind not so clear headed anymore, not that it ever really was after your breakup 4 months ago.
you open tiktok again. this time, instead of an alysa edit, you get a tiktok with some random picutre of a skyline and a caption that says “do it for the plot”.
and thats where you snap. you click on the +, taking a quick picture of your shoes against the balcony railing, captioning it “wdym my ex is a fucking Olympic Gold Champion” and post it.
you dont think much of it. you wonder if anyone will even see it.
but you dont care anymore. you finish up your joint and plop down on your bed, too lazy to change. you fall into a coma, blissfully unaware of what awaits you in the morning.
————————————————————————
“yeah?” you say, your voice is still groggy, trying to figure out what your friend wants.
“girl!!! please tell me you saw alysa's story.” your friend practically squeaks out.
the question wakes you up — you sit up in your bed, your heart racing now.
“..no? what's it about?”
“go see for yourself!”
you yawn, opening instagram to check her story.
you still follow eachother. technically you didn't even end on bad terms. but that hurt even more.
you look at the ring around her profile picture, tapping it like it was the most difficult decision of your entire life.
the story read: “could win 2 more medals but my biggest award is still y/n's ex ig”
the picture was the medals hung up next to old pictures of the two of you kissing in a photobooth.
this time, your jaw dropped, the shock overtaking you.
your thumb hovers over the “reply to alysa...” under her story, your mind blocking when it came to what you were gonna say.
you questioned if you should say anything at all, but you had to. this wasnt something you could keep your mouth shut on.
you:
you guess?
so dry. boring. plain. nothing like the all-caps, excited texts you'd sent eachother before the breakup.
as soon as the text is sent, you throw your phone across the bed, screaming into your pillow.
once you're done having your little moment, your eyes dart to the joint on the table.
was it worth it?
maybe.
oh, look. your phone's vibrating. guess we'll find out.
alysa:
oops didnt mean to post that
medals slipped
theyre quite heavy
so is my heart but yk
you looked at your phone, lost on what to say. shortly after, she deleted her last text.
you:
i saw that alysa
alysa:
saw what?
you:
dont play with me rn
alysa:
im sorry
i wish we handled this better
please let me fix it
im in oakland rn
you:
fix what?
alysa:
us.
you:
and how are you planning to do that
you wait a few minutes..no response.
but its not long before you hear someone knock on the front door.
a groan escapes you, and you reach for a hairbrush to fix your hair before checking to see who's at the door.
you forget to look through the peephole, just unlocking and opening the door.
and you feel your heart skip a few beats as you try to take in the sight before you.
alysa.
with flowers and a plushie of your favourite character.
she looks shy, sheepish — a stark contrast to the bold, confident alysa the world was used to.
you gulp.
“hi lys.”
“hey.”
for a few seconds, you just look into each other's eyes.
“come in.” you say, like you've been dreaming of this moment.
she hands you the bouquet and plushie, the minky soft, but not softer than the hand you “accidentally” brushed against.
alysa goes to sit on the couch, and you set the bouquet on the kitchen table. you hold onto the plushie, hugging it as you sit down across her.
you notice her fidgeting with her fingers, looking down at the floor. has she ever been this nervous?
you sigh.
“congrats on the gold medals.” you put on a soft smile, “i knew you had it in you.”
she smiled — sheepishly, but a smile nonetheless. her eyes darted to yours.
“you always knew..and..I could never thank you enough. you..”
she exhales.
“deserve so much better. but i still want to give you closure. i think its the least i could give you.”
theres a small pause as you look at her, trying to figure out what you're feeling, and how she's feeling.
“i should've been honest with you. it was really shitty of me to leave like that. we didn't grow apart. i miss you everyday. i had never felt so happy to talk to someone before. you were my safe space. and i lied to you. i swore i was good at managing my time now, that skating would never take priority..and i guess it did. i didnt want to admit that you were right when you told me i should be more careful. none of this was your fault. this was just me losing myself in something yet again. and you had to suffer the consequences...and for that im sorry. i truly am. you deserve much better. i dont know what will come out of this but i want part of it to be you knowing that this was not you.”
you lean back against the couch, hesitant to open your mouth, but you know it has to happen.
“im happy that you did what was best for you. i can tell you're having a lot of fun. and im proud of you.”
the words physically hurt to say. you're dying on the inside that she chose a sport over you.
“thats the problem. you think this is what's best for me. its not. im having fun. but i feel so empty on the inside. i underestimated us. i thought we couldn't make this work. i was wrong. so so wrong. but it's too late for that now, isn't it?”
a beat of silence.
“i want us to atleast be on speaking terms. to be friends. because i enjoyed your company and i really miss it.”
friends?
that word felt like a slap to the face. you were anything but friends. but beggars cant be choosers, right?
“i- yeah. i missed your company too...”
you can feel the joy radiating off her as you said that.
“can i..take you out? coffee, anything you like. like how we used to. just..see if y'know.. anything's changed.”
she hesitates, but she looks up at you again, still fidgeting with her fingers.
“okay. sure. I'd like that.”
alysa smiles.
“you like the plushie?”
a laugh escapes you — soft, nervous. you hold onto the plushie just a bit tighter.
“yeah. the flowere were nice too.”
“im glad.”
she scooches closer to you, leaning her head on her shoulder.
you lean your head on hers, your pinky moving to graze against hers.
“so, friends, huh?”
“that feels so wrong to say.”
“i know.”
“you..think you could give me a second chance..?”
your breath hitches.
“youre really asking for a chance?”
she panics, stumbling over her words.
“im sorry- i should've..shouldnt have said that.”
“no, lys. i want to give it to you.”
“i- thank you, i promise, this time i really mean it, I'll do everything to make us work. nothing comes before you ever again.”
theres a wet spot on your shoulder now.
“lys, are you crying?”
“fuck, sorry.”
you pull her into your arms, tucking her head under your chest, pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head.
“come on.. don't. youre okay. we'll be okay, yeah?”
alysa wraps herself around you, trying to get as close as she possibly can.
“next time i do something stupid please slap me.”
a chuckle escapes you as you flick her forehead.
“i'll just kiss you stupid.”
now its her turn to laugh.
“that works too.”
eventually her sobs mellow down into occasional sniffles as she buries herself deeper in your chest, holding you tightly, as if you'll disappear if her grip on you loosens just a little.
“im not going anywhere” you whisper into her ear.
“neither am i.”
you smile, pressing another soft kiss to the top of her head.
“i missed you.” you murmur.
“i missed you too.”
a comfortable silence envelopes you, your fingers fidgeting with her freshly dyed halos.
“i love you.”
tears prickle at the corner of your eyes, but you hold yourself together.
“love you too lys.”
“wheres the i?!” she exclaims, a teasing smile on her face.
you laugh, ruffling her hair.
“i love you too.” you say, your voice softer.
she moves her head up, this time burying it in the crook of your neck, a shaky sigh coming out of her.
“thats more like it.”
“still just as demanding as i remember you.”
“thats never going baby.”
“it better not be.”
you exhale, feeling like a weight was lifted off your chest and replaced by your girl seeking solace in your arms.
your fingers go to gently massage her scalp as you close your eyes, letting yourself drift into a much needed nap.
youre not sure if you're just really sleepy or if you heard alysa mutter a little “love you”, but either way, a soft, peaceful smile paints your face as you allow sleep to take you.
the apartment is now quiet, the only sounds being the quiet breathing and occasional sleepy murmurs by both of you.
for the first time in months, you actually slept well — finally back with the person you dedicated years of your life (and a very embarrassing tiktok post) to. and you finally felt like you could breathe.
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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) — mentions of alcohol and getting drunk.
𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡... alysa is a player, but she finds herself getting attached to one of the girls.
𝐚/𝐧 — OH GOD. longest fic so far. i still feel like it's really underwhelming, but i just didnt know what to write. i hope you guys like it either way 🥲
it's been like this for months now.
long nights, in some stranger's bedroom, red cup in your hand, alysa next to you.
you met alysa at your average college house party, both of you tipsy on some vodka cranberry you'd dug out the host's room, eyes glassy, speech a little slurry, hearts beating at a pace so fast you thought your heart might jump out your chest at any given moment.
at first, you just looked at each other.
didn't say anything.
then she smiled. full blown, wide grin, teeth showing, followed by that damn smiley piercing that captivated you so much.
and you giggled. took her hand. found some empty room away from all the noise, made out, talked about topics you never dared to speak on before, held each other in a way you'd never held anyone before, and since then, your life has been a total rollercoaster, not a single moment of peace.
you remember exchanging instagrams and numbers, receiving that “you up?” text for the first time at 2:47AM on a monday morning, skipping classes just to see her…the memory is clear as day.
you remember the first time she came to your house, how you didn't even feel the need to drink around her — you were comfortable being sober, a rare feeling around someone new to you. how the words flowed, how the conversation never felt forced.
sure you had a shot or two of some rum you'd found in a cabinet you forgot about, but who cares?
to you, all that really mattered is that you'd finally found someone who understood you.
somebody who seemed to care about more than just the sex — somebody who would sit on rooftops and hold you as you opened up parts of yourself you'd sworn you would never dare to open, who had goals and ambitions and life, who was full of such passion that it amazed you.
that was the alysa you were allowed to see.
in front of you, alysa was sweet, kind and caring.
she would buy you expensive gifts, showing up with your dream shoes, whispering “for you, baby” in your ear as she handed you the box, create little patterns she'd trace on your back, leave hickeys just below the collarbone, take you to expensive restaurants (which she'd pay for, ofcourse), hold you tighter everytime another sniffle escaped you, take candid photos together..
it seemed like she was perfect girlfriend material. i mean, what more could you really ask for? this was it..you found your girl.
that was where you screwed up.
you trusted some girl you met at a college party.
alysa never had a good reputation when it came to dating.
she was known as the ‘fuckboy’ of the group, the one who would change girls like underwear, who would lead them on then destroy them.
people would call her a whore for sleeping around, and somehow, still wanted a piece of it.
you went wrong with believing that deep down, she wasn't the person everyone was seeing. that she was different, that somewhere deep in her heart, was a lovergirl.
you went wrong with believing you could reach deep enough to find this lovergirl.
you thought “how could she be a fuckboy if we've been..together for months now?”.
you thought you were special, that either everybody was lying about her, or that you were going to be the one to make her escape the cycle, and settle down with you.
you would spend nights together at someone's place, cuddled up to each other like you've been married for years.
it's your fault for getting too comfortable. for acting like you're more than just friends messing around.
everytime you'd get close to coming to your senses, starting to doubt if she cared for you like how you cared for her, considering leaving, she would immediately cut it off, buying you flowers, plushies, shirts, expensive jewelry, whatever you mentioned you wanted.. you knew you'd have it handed to you soon after.
one night, you got close to ending it with her.
“lysa, i have to be honest. i can't do this anymore. it's killing me. we either date or we cut this off. i can't fuck you and then call you my friend. its not how my heart works.”
unfortunately for you, alysa was a selfish person. and she made sure she always got what she wanted.
“come on, baby..you always told me labels don't matter, did you lie to me when you told me that?”
the worst part? you did tell her that. you thought that this was going to be temporary — that eventually, one of you would break the ice and ask to date, or just lose feelings with time.
so you quiet down.
“i did..”
“exactly. i love you very much, you know that right? it's just, i can't date right now. you know how it is with athletes, baby. im always training or competing, and i'm really just…on top of the world right now. you don't wanna ruin it for me, do you?”
you swallow, feeling that familiar ache in your chest return.
“so we can't date?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“i promise you, angel, in the future we will.” alysa answers in that condescending tone, caressing your cheek with such care that you feel like an angel has been sent from heaven with the sole purpose of comforting you.
she leaves shortly after, saying she's got to go and get ready for a party, giving you a quick peck on the cheek, just to make sure you're still whipped, cuffed to her.
what does she even do at those parties?
most of the time, she goes alone.
unlike her, you care about your grades, and don't have much time to fuck around at parties.
unfortunately, alysa isn't exactly loyal.
you thought you were the only one?
she's flirting with some other girl, sitting in her lap, trapping her under her body the same way she trapped you, acting like she isn't sending somebody a “goodmorning <3” text every day, all while you were blissfully unaware, locked up in your room, studying for your midterms.
unfortunately for alysa, you were the clingy type.
you buried yourself in so much schoolwork, but eventually you snapped and decided to go all out one weekend.
not a single book touched, not a single assignment thought about.
you decided — this is it, im gonna live the college life this weekend.
and live it you did.
you accepted the invite your friend gave you for her house party on a friday night; knowing alysa would be there, you decided to surprise her by showing up.
lysa :) :
u coming to the party friday night?
you:
noo
gotta study
lysa :) :
ok bby
you turn off your phone, giggling at the thought of what her reaction might be when you show up unexpectedly.
you're already fantasizing about how you're going to approach her, how you're going to hug her, spend the night…
the dress you bought specifically for that party is hung up in your room, ready to be worn.
all your friends thought you were insane when you told them you bought it just for her to see, because it wasn't a cheap dress.
and you and alysa weren't even official.
but why would you listen to them? they're just jealous.
so friday night rolls around, and you're sitting on your vanity, dolling yourself up, shaking from how excited you are to see alysa.
the dress looks absolutely gorgeous on you — black and wine red, contouring all your curves, creating the most ethereal silhouette.
you put on your heels, grabbing your purse and car keys, ready to drive out to your friend's house.
the ride is short, only about 10 minutes.
the entire ride, you're blasting the club classics, hyping yourself up, feeling like you might explode from the amount of excitement in you.
the door is unlocked, letting you walk in unnoticed.
you greet your friend and get handed a cup of the same vodka cranberry you drank the time you met alysa.
the taste overflows your senses, bringing back nostalgia and leaving a bittersweet aftertaste, filled with all the nights spent in doubt and love.
you continue walking, getting to the living room, your eyes darting around, trying to find that striped hair you knew stuck out in every room alysa entered.
you found it.
sitting on a couch, drinking some whiskey, glued to some girl's side.
you chug the vodka and set the cup aside as you take in the sight before you.
alysa, cuddled up and all touchy-touchy with one of the popular girls.
she's all you wish you could be. drop dead gorgeous.
you stare, lips slightly parted as you questioned the last few months of your life.
did any of those nights spent glued to each other's side mean anything to her, let alone the same as it meant to you?
the cup is set on the counter, your back leaning into it for support, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes as you try so hard to look away but somehow, your gaze is still stuck on them.
on the way she smiles at the girl. how she seems so relaxed.
“its the alcohol,” you think. “she'll come to her senses when she sobers up, she'll come back to me, im sure…”
it feels like the walls are moving in on you, like the air is losing all its oxygen, like your ribcage is imploding and your heart is slowing down yet still speeding up, and..
alysa is begging you to respond.
“hey. please. y/n.”
you barely register her words, but her shaking your shoulder snaps you out of your trance.
“just get away from me.” you mutter, strutting off to another room.
alysa follows, because of course she does. all eyes are on you two.
the music slows down, the chattering quiets down and for a bit, you can feel everyone staring and whispering things between each other, but it doesn't matter anymore.
you find an empty room, slamming the door behind you and collapsing on the bed, sobbing into a pillow, letting shame and embarrassment wash over you.
its not like nobody warned you. everybody did.
you're the fool for shutting your eyes and ears and listening to that hopeless heart of yours instead of your brain, like nature intended.
alysa opens the door, a soft gasp escaping your mouth as she takes in the sight of your curled up, shivering body.
the room is cold and dark, and your dress is revealing to say the least.
you know she's here — you can smell that faint hint of rose that she used as her signature scent. you can hear her footsteps approaching closer and closer to the bed.
you can feel the weight of the mattress shift as she sits next to you, moving her arm so she can stroke your wrist with her thumb.
for a second, you hesitate whether you should indulge in her comfort for one last time, or swat her arm away and let her know you don't need her.
but her touch is so gentle, and gentle is all you've ever craved..
but there was nothing gentle about seeing her talk to somebody else the way she talked to you..so you move your arm away. you don't swat hers away, because how can you find it in you to hit the same arm you once clinged onto in the middle of the night? can you bite the arm that feeds you (at least when it feels like it)?
alysa notices. she moves her hand to your face, brushing away the strands of hair that were covering your face.
“beautiful,” she murmurs. her heart is heavy, her gaze holding admiration at your beauty, and guilt she would never admit was eating away at her.
without realizing, your eyes have darted to hers, stuck staring at her face. even when she's the worst person to you, it's still hard to see her as that, it's hard to forget the beautiful girl who was here when you needed her.
it's hard not to compare yourself to others, when she suddenly decides you're not worth her time anymore, and replaces you with any girl she meets.
you let your eyes find somewhere to focus on, anywhere that isnt her. simply the thought of looking at her brings you pain.
“it's my fault. for not listening when everybody warned me. i thought they were lying when they said those things about you. i thought everybody was over exaggerating, that deep down, you're just a girl waiting to find someone she can let herself love.”
her mouth is agape upon hearing that, like she's trying to say something, but all that comes out is an “i-” before you cut her off.
“i defended you, alysa. i told everybody you weren't a fuckboy. that you were just trying to figure out what love is. you proved them right.”
a sniffle escapes you..but you cant find it in you to care about your pride enough to save some dignity. you sit up, curling your knees up to your chest, wiping a few tears before going back to unraveling next to her.
“you're selfish. you shouldn't have pretended like you're my girlfriend when you've known from the start it's not what you wanted. we could've kept it at making out and fucking but no. you decided we needed dates, flowers, expensive gifts, cuddling.. and then you told me you don't wanna commit. this wasnt commitment to you, alysa? holding me like a lifeline every time you see me, making excuses to be near me, writing me love letters, was this casual to you?”
“no.”
“so how can you find it in you to go and flirt with other girls when I'm not looking?”
what can she say to this? how can she defend herself, when she knows you're right, when she knows she led you on. there's nothing for her to defend. she's caught on the spot, she's forced to address the why's and how's.
“i just- i dont know. why didn't you listen when i told you im not ready?”
“why did you act like my girlfriend if you can't be my girlfriend?!”
you raise your voice louder than intended, clutching your purse in your hands.
that immediately sends her into defense mode. now she doesn't care how selfish or irrational she sounds, she just says something for the sake of saying it.
she matches your volume, and still somehow seems so nonchalant about this, but you know her well enough to know that that little spark in her eye says she really does care.
it's just not enough for you. if she really did care enough then she'd stay, right?
“why did you get attached?! if there were sooo many people warning you about me, why didn't you listen to them, huh?!”
“because i thought you were better than that you asshole!”
with that, you storm out the room, slamming the door again.
this time, she doesn't follow.
your words echo into the room for a moment, sending her in a trance.
for the first time in a long time, she's been alone.
with no sense of stability, in a cold, dark room all by herself, forced to confront her own feelings and habits, and the scariest part, where they stemmed from.
alysa never found it in her to trust someone enough to devote the entirety of herself to them. she grew up being taught attachment is dangerous, that either you bite them or they bite you. so she chose the former.
she was just like a stray.
would let people approach, pet her for a bit..and when she noticed she was letting herself get too comfortable, she bit.
she bit you over and over again, confused as to why you were still waiting. she knew what you wanted. for her to let you in.
she just huffed at the thought of it.
“well, thats never happening,” she thought, “she's just like all the other bitches. will leave me when she finds out how i am when i get attached.”
her head made a loud thump from the amount of force she used to lean her head against the bed's headboard, her gaze boring into the ceiling.
she thinks of how close she was this time.
how she could've had something and how her stupid assumptions got in the way.
there's tears prickling at the corners of her eyes now as her mind spirals.
she buries her head in her knees, and does what she hasn't been able to do in a long time — cry. really cry. chest heaving, face flushed, nose runny, the full package.
she sat there for 10 minutes, sobbing until her friend realized what was up and came in to check on her.
“lysa..” her friend muttered, sitting next to her on the bed.
“what?” alysa answers through her teeth.
“what happened with y/n?”
“she left.” she murmurs, the words physically hurting her to say out loud.
“why?”
“she saw me talking to another girl.”
her friend scoffs.
“so you're sitting here crying?”
“gosh damn it, what do you want me to do?!”
“i dont know alysa, maybe listen to me when i say to stop fucking around with people's feelings?! that girl really cared, you know. she thought you were the one.”
alysa huffs in response to that, clutching the bedsheets as she does everything to avoid her friend's eyes.
“i warned you, lysa. if you don't do something about this, you'll hurt everybody around you. fratboy only works when everyone wants to fuck around. you made her lose in a game she didn't know she was playing. i told you to come clean with her and stop leading her on. and what did you do?! you played with her anyway! now she's god knows where, probably sobbing alone.”
“well that's too bad.” she feigns nonchalance, pretending her friend's words didn't hit a spot in her heart she would never admit was sensitive, and that the thought of you curled up somewhere, crying alone like how you were earlier, wasn't tearing her heart out of her chest.
“if you say something like that again, im gonna slap your ass, you hear me? when will you stop fucking around, alysa? go apologize. come clean about your feelings, whatever they are.”
she just sighs, knowing that deep down, she agrees with her friend. it has to happen.
“fine. how do i even apologize?”
“oh honey, that's up to you to figure out. you fucked up alysa. now fix it however you know.”
“okay. fine. i’ll try.”
“everyone's gone home. take a shower.”
“alright.”
her friend stands up, gently opening and closing the door as she leaves, letting alysa sit in her own thoughts again.
alysa wasn't used to this. having to confront her mistakes and feelings was new and uncomfortable, but this time she knew she couldn't escape it. she knew that she couldn't go to some party and black out, she didn't even want to go anymore.
she just wanted your arms.
she tried to soothe herself, imagining you whispering sweet little nothings in her ear as she sniffled and held herself.
eventually, she was forced to get out of the hole of self pity she threw herself in by her friend walking in and throwing a towel and a change of clothes at her.
“shower.” she said, her tone a little firmer this time as she shut the door.
alysa groaned, but she didn't really have much of a choice. a shower would do her and her smudged make-up wonders.
she grabbed the clothes and towel and walked to the bathroom, running the water slightly hotter than usual, trying to distract herself with the heat.
the water ran over her body, her body hypersensitive to every droplet that washed over her, wetting her hair and giving her something else to think about other than you.
she let herself enjoy it — how she got goosebumps, how her skin turned pinkish at the temperature change, how the steam took over the entire bathroom, causing her to breathe a little heavier, how the pain felt almost good.
when the water started to turn lukewarm from how long she'd been in the shower, she finally took it as a sign to wrap the shower up.
she opened the window, sighing as she grabbed the towel, trying to wrap it around her before the cold air hit her body first.
the walk to the guest bedroom felt unreal. like she was stepping on clouds. her vision was hazy, and her mind was anywhere but in the present.
she threw on the change of clothes her friend gave her and sprawled on the bed.
she tried to sleep, she really did. but the sight of you curled up, crying, pushing her arm away, it tugged at her heartstrings. it stayed at the forefront of her mind, not letting her close her eyes without completely overtaking her.
it got too much.
she grabbed her phone from the nightstand, unlocking it and immediately opening the messages app.
it was overflowing with texts from everybody who was there at the party or heard about it, asking her what happened, obviously just trying to get some intel for gossip.
but at the top, as her pinned contact, was you.
she had one unread message.
“have fun at the party tonight :)”
sent before the party.
her heart drops, her eyes glossing over with tears again as she starts sobbing.
she knew she had to fix this. what else was there left to do? let you leave? keep the nonchalant, “never get attached” facade? she knows she already failed. obviously she got attached if she's sitting in someone's guest room, crying about you.
she does the only thing she can think of, and texts you. her fingers are moving sloppily, the alcohol still in her system, her autocorrect really coming in clutch this time.
with that, she shuts her phone off and lets her head fall on the pillow as she covers herself with the duvet, hugging another pillow, pretending it's you, like it would make you appear and hold her like you once did.
you're sleeping, blissfully unaware of what awaits you when you wake up.
the phone next to you buzzes, a notification appearing on its lockscreen…
𝐚/𝐧 — i used to be a really paranoid person so i used some of my personal experiences to write this. i hope you like it!! 🤍
divider by @revrette
The moonlight was illuminating the otherwise dark house, letting you have some sense of direction as you moved through the hallways to get to the living room.
Your mom had told you you couldn't watch any more videos for the night, ordering you to go to bed, which angered you and caused you to disobey in spite.
The laptop was fully charged, and you opened it with anticipation, your hands trembling with fear and excitement.
For a second, you knew you were doing something bad, you knew this was wrong and you'd face the consequences one way or another.
But still, almost mindlessly, you open YouTube, using all your strength to pick up the laptop and sit on the couch with it.
The recommended page had all your favourite shows and channels on it, making your eyes shine and heart race with excitement as you scrolled through and finally picked a video to watch.
You picked a seemingly harmless Peppa Pig video, shifting your position so you can comfortably place the device in your lap.
A few minutes passed by, your eyes almost locked onto the screen, putting you in a trance-like state, until a sudden screamer of Jeff the Killer snaps you out of it and sends you into a state of shock and panic.
The distorted face and the loud screaming was too much for a child to handle — and you start crying, scared something might happen to you.
Your parents walk into the room, watching you curled up in a ball, trying to fend off the shadowy figures forming around you.
For the rest of your early childhood, all your nights were spent in your parents’ bed until you worked up the courage to try sleeping alone again.
And for a while, nothing bothered you, except the uncanny faces that would flash in front of your eyes every time you tried to sleep, the shadowy figures lurking around the corners and the panic attack that loomed every night.
It took a lot of late night conversations with your parents and so many sleepless nights for you to start overcoming your fears, and eventually, by the time you were a teenager, you could sleep in your room by yourself, with infrequent nightmares and panic attacks.
Just as it seemed you'd finally overcome it all, now moved into your shared place with Alysa, the hallucinations now a distant memory of the past, a random fact about yourself you'd share with friends…up until the nightmares came back.
And so did the paranoia.
You tried to ignore the shadows and faces forming around you so hard, pretending the voices calling out your name and whispering something intelligible didn't bother you.
You tried to pretend it wasn't keeping you up at night, that it didn't have you gripping onto Alysa a bit tighter, that you didn't try to keep her awake for longer so that you would have to spend less time alone.
Your breaking point came when you were scrolling on TikTok, and all of a sudden your algorithm decided it was time for a throwback.
Clips of unsettling videos and images of creepypastas and distorted faces paired with cute things like MLP and Pusheen started showing up on your for you page, labeled as nostalgia bait.
At first, you tried to avoid them. Clicked “Not Interested” every time you'd have enough courage to stay on the video long enough to click the necessary buttons, scrolled away hoping the algorithm would take the hint and stop showing them to you (it never did).
Eventually, the videos started appearing more frequently, and that was what pushed you to delete TikTok.
But the damage had already been done, and the shadowy figures were back lurking in the corners of your bedroom, the voice calling your name followed you wherever you went, the distorted faces occupied your mind and flashed in your face every time you closed your eyes and attempted to get some sleep, and all of a sudden, you were a 7 year old again, having a panic attack in your bedroom.
The first few times were manageable. You were taught how to snap out of it before it got too bad, so you used this knowledge to the best of your abilities. It seemed like you were finally regaining control, until they started taking over your dreams too.
The nightmares stopped being this thing that just happened every week or so.
It got serious. You started struggling to sleep at night — you'd hesitate going to bed, because you knew what awaited you as soon as you dared to close your eyes. Every day became a game of staring at the clock, dreading the moment it would be your bedtime and your eyelids would start getting heavier, forcing you to succumb to the exhaustion accumulated throughout the day.
You did an okay-ish job at pretending you were fine, at least when Alysa was watching.
She never really knew or cared to question why your grip on her would tighten randomly in the middle of the night, why you insisted on closing the door all the way through, why you never let your eyes linger on the shadows too long. She just thought it was part of your quirks.
Life went on without Alysa knowing the reasoning behind your recent behaviour, because you were trying so hard to bury it as deep as you possibly could, until one night you couldn't take it anymore.
⋆⋆⋆
You can't remember when was the last time you had a good night's sleep — probably well over a month ago.
You were running on caffeine and hopes and prayers, focusing more on surviving the night without having some major panic attack.
But you'd be lying if you said that as you got less and less sleep, the voices weren't getting louder, the figures weren't becoming more noticeable, and the faces weren't trying to carve themselves into your mind.
The sleep deprivation was getting to you, and it was only a matter of time until you broke down from just how tired and scared you were all the time.
⋆⋆⋆
The room was dimly lit, the only source of light being the moon shaped bedside lamp Alysa had bought for you when you first moved in with her.
Alysa's thumb was tracing soft patterns on your back as you laid on top of her, her other hand holding a book she was reading.
The only time you felt safe was when you were wrapped up in her arms, the lamp coloring the room a yellow tint, your head buried in the crook of your neck as you took in her scent, trying to memorize every note.
She didn't pay you much mind, allowing herself to fully focus on the book, still absent-mindedly tracing patterns on your back, lulling you to sleep.
Every now and then, when you'd hear a familiar voice whisper your name, you'd nuzzle into her, seeking comfort as you silently prayed your mind would have some mercy on you and let you have a peaceful night until sleep finally took you.
At first, the dream started off normal, with you wandering in a field, running around carelessly as you let the fresh air hit you, wind disheveling your hair, the grass tickling your barefoot feet while you took in the mesmerizing sunset forming.
You continued running, the sunset transitioning into twilight, and only when it was pitch black around you did you finally realize how long you'd been running for.
The dark sky snapped you out of it, forcing you to take a breather. You laid down in the grass, looking at the sky, allowing your eyes to bore into the never ending space above you.
A few minutes passed with you staring off into the void until the stars disappeared and started morphing into unsettling faces, the voices returning except this time they were louder and overlaying. The different tones overlaying, the faces staring into you made you freeze in place, unable to move — all you could do is breathe frantically and try to get out of the situation you caught yourself in.
Unbeknownst to you, in the real world, you'd been shaking and breathing heavily for 10 minutes now, and Alysa was trying to get you to snap out of it and wake up, but to no avail.
After shaking you a few times and realizing that wouldn't do anything, she picked you up and hugged you as tight as she possibly could, making you wake up with a huge gasp.
There were tears streaming down your cheek now as you slowly regained consciousness, your arms tightening around Alysa's waist while you sobbed in the crook of her neck.
“Hey. You're okay, baby, you're safe now. It was just a dream.” she gently reassured, beginning to trace the familiar patterns on your back in an attempt to comfort you.
“No Alysa.. it's not..they follow me everywhere, I can't do this anymore..” you mutter out in between sobs, your words slurring together, now completely giving up on composing yourself, just letting yourself fall apart in her arms.
“Wait wait wait wait. Who's they? What are you talking about?” Alysa asked, now cupping your cheek, trying to get you to make eye contact.
You didn't respond, just buried your head in her chest and continued sobbing.
Alysa realized she wouldn't be finding out anytime soon — at least not while you were sobbing, struggling to catch your breath. All she could do was try to comfort you to the best of her abilities with limited knowledge of what was actually upsetting you.
“Shhh, hey, it's just us two. And if there's anyone out there, they're gonna have to get me first. And I'm not sure if they can compete against the blanket.”
She pulled your favourite weighted blanket over you and laid next to you; enjoying the soft giggle that came out of you, arm draped over your chest, fingers toying with the hairs at the nape of your neck.
The lamp on the nightstand was still illuminating the room, but Alysa urged you to focus on her, trying to find some way to distract you.
“Can you braid my hair?” she asked.
You looked at her, your breathing now slowed down from the pressure of the blanket and her leaning on you. Alysa was always good at finding distractions whenever you had a panic attack or similar, and made sure they were effective.
“Sure.” you dramatically sigh, pretending to not get excited at the thought of getting to feel her soft locs on your fingers.
“Extra tight.” she insists.
“Extra tight.” you smile fondly.
She smiled when she heard your response, now sitting up.
“Can I sit in your lap so you can braid my hair?”
“Ofcourse.”
With that, you shifted your position to make it comfortable for the both of you, and once Alysa was all set, you began working on the braids.
Every now and then, you'd hear someone calling your name, or a figure would appear in your peripheral vision, and your heart would skip a beat or two.
You tried your hardest to keep your focus solely on the braids, but as the hallucinations got more and more extreme, you needed another distraction, so you tried to talk.
“Sorry for waking you up earlier..” you murmured, voice full of guilt and remorse.
“Its no biggie. I'm glad you didn't have to struggle with the nightmare for long.”
Alysa shifted so she could press her back further against you.
“What's up with you anyway? I mean your eyebags are huge. And you're always looking around like there's someone or something waiting for you.”
Your heart sank. You didn't expect her to confront you about it, at least not now. You knew it was inevitable, but you didn't expect it to be so soon.
“Um…I don't..this is so stupid I just…” you exhale, trying to find the words. Embarrassment was flooding over you — at how absurd this whole situation was. How this was something you should've overcome long ago… yet it's still here.
“I stumbled upon horror as a child and I guess it was so scary it left me with all of…this. Hallucinations and nightmares. And since then I've become paranoid that something is out there. It's stupid, childish..I know. But I can't get out of it.”
You could feel the way her energy shifted into something different. How her tone turned softer, how there wasn't an ounce of judgement in it. She turned around to face you, now sitting in your lap, braids half done, hand cupping your cheek.
“Why didn't you tell me earlier? We could've thought of something to help you feel safer.”
“I guess I was just scared you might judge me or something.”
“Hey. That's not something to judge. Paranoia can get really bad, trust me I know, so please..stop hiding things from me because you feel like I'll look at you differently, okay?”
Her arms reached to wrap themselves around you, pulling you into a tight hug. You let yourself melt into the embrace, finally noticing your heartbeat slow down to a normal pace, the figures slowly disappearing, and those who stayed didn't bother you so much.
You let your eyes linger on them for a bit. Your heart picked up the pace again, but this time, you felt a little stronger, safer in Alysa's arms, a soft exhale coming out of you as you closed your eyes again, burying your head in the crook of her neck.
“Goodnight angel.” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
“Goodnight Lysa.” you whisper back, returning the gesture.
The last thing you heard before drifting to sleep was the sound of the lamp switch being toggled by Alysa, the room now pitch black.
For the first time in a while, you found yourself feeling safe in darkness, a soft smile painted on your face as you let sleep take you, comfortably wrapped up in your girlfriend's arms.
𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡... alysa tries to prove that she can be more than the player everybody knows her as.
𝐚/𝐧 — im sorry this is SO underwhelming, i didnt know how to write the dialogue or the ending, sorry! i hope you guys still like this
the sound of your alarm blared across your bedroom, the noise abruptly waking you up, already fucking your day up.
the hangover was not helping. you felt your head throb and spin, your vision blurry and body so sore that every movement feels like something that comes with a painful cost.
you do your best to roll across your bed, sloppily grabbing your phone to turn off the alarm. as you rub your eyes to get them to focus so you can better see the icons on the screen, a notification pops up.
2:47 AM | alysa:
im sorry
i really am
can we talk
you used what little strength you had left in you to shut your phone and set it down on the nightstand a little harder than intended to, a small scoff coming out of you.
you moved to bury your head in your pillow, trying to ignore the burning sensation in your chest as tears formed in your eyes, your pride refusing to let a single tear escape.
the promise you made to yourself last night echoed in your head. “i’ll never waste an ounce of my energy on her ever again.”
the blanket felt so comfortable, the mattress practically swallowing you, like it was begging you to stay.
so you stayed.
you tossed and turned until you finally shut your eyes, trying to get the notification out of your head.
but no matter how much you shifted around, how much you swore you didn't care anymore and that you were entering your “nonchalant” era, you still couldn't help but wish the girl with striped hair would come over, hand you an edible and lull you to sleep, the memory of her soft lips on your neck haunting you.
the sunlight that managed to filter through your half closed blinds was too bright, too demanding. a groan came out of you when you finally stood up, going to close the blinds all the way through.
now your room is pitch black, hitting your chest with the melancholy you became familiar with years ago.
you slumped over to your bed, closing your eyes, hoping to escape your misery at least in sleep.
the dream was heartwrenching — it was you and alysa, holding each other in the middle of a field, surrounded by flowers and a sunset with a gorgeous orange-pink gradient.
the dream itself wasn't so bad. the heart wrenching part was waking up and coming to the realization that this really was just a dream.
that alysa hadn't come back to you, and you haven't gone back to pressing lazy kisses against the top of her head.
your room was still pitch black, you didn't even know what time it was, the blinds wouldn't let you see.
tears were now streaming down your face, your hands moving up to wipe your nose then your tears, wetting your sleeve.
there was no hope for you, the feeling of emptiness had already begun to swallow you whole. you decided there was nothing better to do, so you went back to sleep. this time, your mind had some mercy on you, so you had a dreamless slumber.
it was now nearing midnight, and the sound of your phone ringing awoke you, causing a whine to come out of you.
you reached for the phone on the nightstand. a number you hadn't saved nor recognized.
⋆⋆⋆
alysa had spent the entire night crying until she fell asleep at 4 in the morning.
her dreams were filled with your caresses, the times you'd kiss her cheek, how you were patient with her when she was figuring her feelings out, how gentle you'd been..she never realized that she couldn't live without it until she lost it.
the sunlight crept through the curtains, waking her from the dreams she wished would translate to real life.
alysa looked around — trying to understand where she was. everything around her seemed unfamiliar. the mattress was softer than she'd been used to, the view different from the one she would enjoy every time she went out for a smoke.
once it finally clicked to her that she was at her friend's place, the memories from last night immediately began flooding in, like water rushing through a broken dam. the familiar ache in her chest returned, accompanied by the feeling of emptiness in her stomach.
alysa was stumped. she sat up, looking through the window. she knew she had to leave eventually.
the first thing she did was grab her phone, checking to see if you texted back.
read.
she covered her face with her hands, groaning while she muttered a “god, this is so embarrassinggg.” to herself. “i cant believe i drunk texted my..ex.”
what were you, really? exes? you never dated. that might've been the worst part of it all.
all this pain from a couple that never even dated.
her mascara was ruined, makeup smeared all over her face, eyebags so big they looked like black eyes at first glance.. the whole ”rough night” package.
she put her phone in her pocket, taking a quick trip to the bathroom.
the hallways were closing in on her — the shame, guilt, remorse, all of the emotions from last night coming back in full force.
she tried to put up a front, pretending it wasn't eating her alive. but as soon as she locked the bathroom door, it was over for her.
tears came streaming down her face as she curled up against the door, hugging her knees, no longer trying to contain the emotions that had been bubbling up under the surface for months now.
she thought she had more time, she really did. she thought she had more time left until she had to confront her feelings about you, about herself, to confront her problems. she never thought it would be in a friend's bathroom after a college party.
the knock on the bathroom door was what finally got her to snap out of it — her body jolting at the sound and sudden vibration.
“alysa, you in there? let me come in!” her friend insisted, her tone making it clear she wasn't taking no for an answer.
with you gone, her friend was the only real connection she had outside of her family. the only one who gave her reality checks, stayed by her side, showed her the good and the bad.
alysa knew she needed the comfort and the advice. it wasn't like she had much of a choice anyway, the pain was ready to swallow her whole if somebody didn't come to help her stay on the surface.
she stood up, her hand going to reach the door handle.
her friend's eyes widened, not accustomed to this side of the usually composed alysa. she sighed, sitting down next to her, wrapping her arm around her as she spoke, her voice scolding, but alysa felt lingering softness.
“lysa. dude. you're still crying?”
“i miss her so bad.”
“im sure she misses you too.”
“do you think she'll come back to me...”
“maybe. but you need to work on this whole trust and commitment issues thing you got going on. not every girl is out to get you, y'know? and she definitely cared and wanted you. i don't know how everybody but you saw how she looked at you.”
“i just…i was scared to..i..”
her friend didn't respond, just waited for alysa to calm down the turmoil inside her, tracing soft patterns on alysa's shoulder.
“i trusted a girl once. i thought she'd be the one. we spent the entire 7th grade together. always texting, calling, never spent more than a few hours apart. and then i finally worked up the courage to ask her out..and from then on we started dating. we only lasted a few weeks until she told me i was too much. told me i was too intense, that i..” alysa muttered in between sobs and sniffles, no longer having the strength to continue.
she let her friend's arms wrap around her. she pretended it was you holding her. she let herself melt into the embrace, her sobs eventually coming to a stop.
“lysa you cant let a doomed relationship from 7th grade ruin your ability to love freely in college. it's like letting a bad grade you got once determine the grades you get for the rest of your life, because you don't believe in yourself and your ability to learn from your mistakes and do better.”
“i would say i know,” alysa murmured sheepishly. “but i didnt. i needed to hear this.”
“i know you did.” her friend spoke, tracing little patterns on alysa's shoulder. “did you text her?”
“i texted her last night.”
“let me see.”
alysa groans, reluctantly handing her the phone. alysa was never one to beg, or sincerely apologize. the tough front she was putting up wouldn't let her. having her friend see her text somebody like this felt humiliating.
“ouch. read?”
“dont even mention it.”
her friend sighs, handing her her phone back.
“maybe she needs some time to think about it.”
“whatever dude..it's over. obviously..” she said.
alysa's head was resting on her knees which were hugged to her chest. her eyes were getting watery, staring off into blank space. she felt pathetic, vulnerable, uncomfortable. she looked like a kicked puppy.
“alysa, give it a few days.”
she didn't respond, she just closed her eyes and took a few shaky breaths before finally standing up to wash her face.
“see, i told you. they're all the same. they all leave.”
alysa's tone was oddly monotone, a stark contrast to the hopeless, shaky voice heard earlier.
“no! this was your fault. you did this to yourself. you pushed her away.” her friend scolded.
“she could've tried to stay!” she retorted, her frustration bubbling under the surface.
“she did! she can't fight for you to keep her forever you know.”
“whatever.”
alysa fixed her hair and went back to the guest bedroom to get her bag. she tried to avoid conversation, because she knew what it would all be about.
“thanks for letting me stay..sorry for last night.”
her friend let out an exasperated sigh and pulled her in for a quick hug.
“don't worry about it…just.. take care of yourself yeah? lay off on the parties for the next few days while you're recovering.”
alysa rolled her eyes, a small smile growing on her face.
“yeah yeah, okay mom. take care.”
her friend snickered, shut the door and with that, alysa was once again, left alone.
she was sobered up by now, at least enough to walk home.
the entire walk was spent with her mind on autopilot, her body having taken this route many times, no longer requiring much thought from alysa.
alysa used this to her advantage, using the time to think about you. she wondered where exactly it all went wrong. tried to gauge if it was worth it to even try to change if you wouldn't be there to enjoy the “new and improved alysa liu”.
she thought about giving up, about letting you go. she knew you deserved better, and she was stuck between being this better that she wanted to give you, or letting somebody else take her place.
of course, it would be easier to let someone take her place. she wouldn't have to worry so much about changing, wouldn't have to put in the effort. then she thought about how it'd be like seeing you with a new girl. she thought about how she was willing to give everything up to be that girl.
she didn't notice it, but her legs started moving a little faster, getting her to her apartment sooner.
she took her key out of her bag and unlocked the door.
her cats rushed to greet her, causing a soft smile to form on alysa's face.
immediately after looking up from her cats, she noticed how empty the apartment felt. how your soft voice wasn't there to warm her heart like how it used to every time she came back from work or school. she noticed your hoodie hung on her chair — the only trace of you left remaining.
the blinds were half closed, not letting much light seep in.
there were clothes, cups, random items and dishes scattered around the apartment.
they were right when they said your room (or apartment) was a reflection of your mind.
alysa was lost, she was messy, how could she expect someone to handle her if she can't handle herself?
she picked her cat up, carried her to the cat tree, and then began cleaning up.
she wanted to impress you, to show you that she was finally improving, that it wasn't empty words.
she imagined how you'd praise her the next time you came over, how you'd stare in disbelief, tell her you're proud of her..
she didn't realize it, but she was smiling like an idiot, humming some song while cleaning up.
she cleaned up her cat's litter, threw the trash out, picked up and threw the clothing in the laundry, neatly folded her clothes, opened the blinds, now letting the sun illuminate the room.
she changed her bedsheets, put on a happy yet calm song, and sat on her desk to do the homework that was long overdue.
she stared at the problems on the question sheet, completely dumbfounded. math was never her strong point, but she didn't expect to be this lost.
that was when she realized just how much she needed you.
every time she struggled with schoolwork, she'd call you, and you'd come over to help. you kept her grades afloat — it was thanks to you she got her first B+ in college.
now, she didn't have her favourite nerd to call up.
the inability to solve the questions wasn't what hurt her, it was your absence and all the small ways it was noticeable that did.
alysa knew that it was the 21st century and she could've just looked up a video explaining how to solve the problems, but she didn't want some stranger, she wanted you. she was well aware you were the last thing she deserved.
still, she tried her hardest to get her homework done, and do it decently at that. she wanted to hand in the homework in front of you, to prove that she was getting her life together.
you had always scolded her for being careless with her grades, now she wanted to give you a reason to be proud of her.
she spent the rest of the day trying to be “productive”, remembering all the things you'd told her, all the advice you'd given until your mouth started foaming up.
when the day came to a close and the sun hid behind the horizon, she put her headphones on and went to see what you were listening to. She went to your profile, choosing to listen to whatever you were listening to. “Break It Off” by PinkPantheress started playing.
“noone ever saw me cry, until i left the party the other night..do you remember all the things that you said to me?”
she promised to herself — no more crying, no more wallowing.
but then the memory of you leaving, nose stuffy, eyes red and puffy from crying and makeup smeared all over your face came back, and for a minute, she was in your shoes.
guilt and shame practically swallowed her.
she couldn't get the image of your puffy eyes out of her head.
her weekend was spent wallowing, wolfing down tubs of icecream, ignoring everyone but her sibling’s calls and messages.
sunday night came around.
her hands reached to take off her headphones, placing them on the nightstand. she set an alarm for 8AM, so she'd have time to make it to her 10AM class. she grabbed the plushie you bought for her a few weeks ago, holding it tightly in a pathetic attempt to soothe herself by pretending it was you she was holding.
eventually, she let herself close her eyes, falling into a somewhat peaceful slumber.
⋆⋆⋆
the next day, she walked in class, her eyes darting around, trying to find yours.
however it seemed she was out of luck that day, as her classmate informed her you weren't coming to class that day.
“why?” alysa questioned, a hint of concern in her voice.
“apparently she's got the flu.”
“what? is she okay?”
“i mean, i’m sure she is.. it is just the flu after all.” her friend answered, clearly unwilling to entertain the conversation any longer.
“yeah. you're right.”
alysa finally sat down, a small pout on her face — looking like a kicked puppy yet again.
when it was time to turn in her homework, she took one last look around the classroom one last time before handing it to the professor.
she spent the rest of her day looking like a kicked puppy. she was hoping to sneak a few glances at you throughout the day, and maybe have some small talk if she couldn't get a meaningful conversation out of you.
but yet again, you weren't there.
⋆⋆⋆
the next few days were a blur.
alysa was just going through the motions — wake up, go to the bathroom, shower, get dressed, pack your books, go to class, come home, eat, feed her cats, do homework, clean up, wait for you to respond to her text…
she was getting tired of it.
your absence was eating her up.
she vowed she'd listen to her friend and lay off on the parties while she was recovering from everything that was happening, but the void in her heart was catching up to her, and she thought it wouldn't be long until she became part of it.
she tried to distract herself, to reassure herself that everything will be okay, but it was getting clear she was starting to crack.
when she realized nothing was working, she chose escapism and went back to what had always worked as a distraction — alcohol, drugs, parties.
friday came around, and somebody forwarded her a party invite.
she couldn't resist.
she spent an entire weekend searching for a sign you still cared about her existence, let alone a sign you'd come back.
but nothing showed up.
“fuck it,” she muttered to herself. “im going. she won't care anyway..and i just need the drugs and alc.”
she knew it was a terrible idea from the get go, yet she still let herself slip into the version of herself she spent the whole week condemning.
⋆⋆⋆
when she came to the party, she didn't have anything but getting high and drunk on her mind. usually she'd hoe around, but this time it didn't even cross her mind.
you took up all the space in her brain, and she hated it. she ran to parties as a distraction.
she popped any pill offered to her, taking any concoction of a drink her peers thought up.
the effects came rushing in not long after. her vision was becoming blurry, her speech slurring, and she couldn't tell faces and voices apart. everybody and everything looked the same to her, and she retracted to a couch tucked away in a corner.
a group of girls noticed her, immediately rushing towards her.
each girl started making their advances.
one asked for her number. another tried to make small talk in that flirty voice alysa loathed to hear when it came from anybody from you. some would touch her, running their hands up her thigh or waist.
alysa was overwhelmed.
she was clearly intoxicated, begging everybody to leave her alone. there were tears prickling at the corner of her eyes, sweat dripping down her forehead as she got more and more panicked.
when a girl leaned in to kiss her, alysa almost froze. she pushed her off of her, and went to run to the nearest unoccupied room.
that was when her eyes caught on the phones held up by her friends, clearly recording.
betrayal flashed her eyes. its not like her friends were ever good ones..always pressuring her to go out, introducing her to new ways she can ruin her life, always leaving when the topic wasn't gossip or getting wasted.
but she didn't expect this from them.
her only real friend saw her, and followed her to the bathroom.
“alysa, god, are you okay?”
“i want my girl back.” alysa begged between sobs.
“lets calm you down first, and we'll call her, okay?”
“i want her now.”
her friend didn't bother negotiating, she just pulled out her phone and dialed your number.
the phone rang for a bit until you picked up.
“hello?” you said.
alysa's friend handed the phone to her.
“um, y/n? can you..please come pick me up? i got really wasted..and everybody was all over me..and my friends didnt help..just recorded me..im so sorry..i know im an asshole..can you drive me to my place atleast?”
you'd never heard alysa beg like this before..you could tell she was crying. she wasn't even trying to hide it, you could hear her hiccups, sobs and sniffles through the phone, clear as day.
you sighed, panic setting in.
“send me your location.”
alysa did as you told her, sending you her location.
“ill be there in 15.”
you were wearing a pair of oversized sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair tousled from laying in bed the entire day, but all you did was fix your hair before rushing to your car.
you couldn't tell what you were feeling. some of it was anger for sure. but you weren't sure who exactly you were angry at. you were angry at her for continuing the partygirl lifestyle she knew she couldn't keep up. you were angry at her friends for being bystanders instead of trying to help. you were angry at yourself for not responding to her text. you were angry at the universe for putting you in this situation.
but you were also worried.
worried that she got alcohol poisoning or overdosed on whatever she took.
worried that something worse might've happened if she didn't have enough strength to get away from those people, whoever they were.
worried that you might've never gotten the call, and something worse could happen to her.
so you sped all the way through, frantically looking for a parking spot as close as possible to the host's house.
when you finally arrived, your eyebrows were furrowed, and you were seething with rage.
everybody had quiet down, trying to process what just happened.
you burst in, taking in the sight of her friends and everybody else just standing there, with alysa nowhere to be seen.
“seriously. what is wrong with all of you?” your voice crackled through the otherwise silent room.
“you useless fucks just sat there and recorded alysa while she was struggling? you're telling me, nobody thought of helping her get out of whatever she was in? she could've been raped or some shit! and what were you thinking, making advances on somebody obviously too intoxicated to even think for themselves?”
the anger in your voice was evident.
nobody said anything. they didn't dare to make a peep.
you sighed, realizing nothing would come out of this.
“where is she.”
alysa's friend came out of the bathroom, hearing the commotion, already knowing what it was about.
“in the bathroom.” she said.
“thank you.” you answered, making your way to the bathroom where alysa was hiding.
once you got there, you didn't even bother knocking, just came straight in.
alysa was curled up, leaning against the bathtub, her eyes shooting open when she saw who was standing in front of her.
“you came!” she said, her voice a little too hopeful than she'd like to sound.
“you called.” you replied, kneeling down to get on her level, bringing her in a warm embrace.
“y/n, i-”
“save it. i dont wanna hear it now.”
you pulled away, cupping her cheek.
“we're going to my place, and you're staying until you've sobered up, you hear me?”
“y-yeah.” alysa murmured, like she hadn't been begging to be near you for a whole week now.
you pick her up, carrying her to your car.
everybody stared. its all they knew how to do. you paid no attention to them — they didn't deserve a morsel of your energy.
you just focused on bringing alysa to the car as quickly as you possibly can, strapping her in the passenger seat and rushing to your own.
a soft, drunken smile appeared on alysa's face as her eyes caught on the “y/n’s passenger princess :)” she scribbled a few weeks ago, paired with a few hics as the tears kept streaming down her face.
you didn't notice, just got in and began driving back to your place.
“you scared me.” you mutter.
“im sorry.” alysa mutters back between sniffles.
“you'll be okay.” you tried to sound believable, you really did it. but you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel hopeless for her and your relationship.
the rest of the ride was quiet save for the soft sobs and sniffles coming out of alysa, making her entire body tremble.
she never looked so fragile.
⋆⋆⋆
you carried her back to your apartment.
alysa had become shamelessly clingy — burying her head in the crook of your neck, trying to memorize your scent while her arms clung to you like you'd disappear if her grip loosened a bit.
you pretended it didn't affect you. but the familiar ache in your stomach returned, and you tried to hold back the tears that were daring to escape.
you set her down on your bed. she didn't let you get up, immediately climbing into your lap, sobbing her heart out, gasping for air.
by now the emotions she'd been suppressing the last few weeks had come back in full force, showing her no mercy.
the sobs wrecked her body, having her shaking, holding onto you like a lifeline while you desperately tried to calm her down, playing with her hair.
“i-im so sorry hic i promise i tried! i really did, i- hic i cleaned my room every day, like you told me to! i did my homework, i stayed sober, i waited..and i dont kn-know why i gave in like that, i dont know why i went to the party.”
her voice was trembling, her eyes pleading with yours for understanding.
“lys-” you tried to calm her down, but she cut you off.
“i thought you'd never come back, so i thought if she's not here..what's the point? so i gave up..i'm so sorry..”
“lysa, baby, im sure you tried, and im proud of you, yeah? but you need to change for yourself and not others.”
“you're the only thing about me i like.”
your heart breaks at that, the defeated tone tugging at your heartstrings. her speech is still slurred, and you refuse to believe she's serious about this, but you play along in hopes she'll calm down.
for a moment, you hesitate whether you should hold her, if you can show that side of yourself again without getting hurt, but she cuts off your train of thought and buries her head in the crook of your neck, her hands wrapping around you.
that's where you give in, and hug her tighter, burying your nose in her hair, her scent overflowing your senses.
“alysa, promise me you'll stop. regardless of if i'm here or not. you know you can't keep this lifestyle, it's destroying you on the inside out.”
“but i want you to be here.”
“okay, lysa. come on, you want me to run you a bath?”
“no..” she answered petulantly.
“why not?”
“i just wanna stay close to you.”
she tightened her grip on you, burying her face deeper in your skin, taking in your scent, eliciting a sigh from you as you spoke
“five more minutes, then you have to take a bath.”
“okay.”
her nose nuzzled your neck, the rest of her body pressing flush against yours, not allowing a centimeter of distance.
“dont fall asleep on me.”
“no promises.”
her response gets a small laugh out of you.
“alright.”
she fell asleep. never took a bath.
when you realized, you carefully untangled yourself from her arms, walking to your closet to find her a comfy pair of PJs.
you put them on her, careful not to wake her.
once she was comfortably dressed and covered with her favourite blanket (that you made sure was always clean, just in case she needed to sleep over), you laid next to her, letting yourself really take in her features.
she looked so soft while she was sleeping — it was hard to believe that alysa, the girl who mumbles things like “stay” and “so cozyy..” in her sleep while simultaneously pulling you impossibly closer, is the same girl who can party for days on end and sleep around with people like she's taught herself how to detach from the people inside the body, and somehow, she perfected being able to see everybody as just another body she'd entertain herself with for the night.
you could never understand it, because she was the sweetest girl when she tried. she held onto every piece of you — hair ties, polaroids, old hoodies, ripped tights, anything you'd give her.
the thought of it brought you to tears. you'd done so much for her to just keep you around, and somehow, it was never enough for you to be the only one, for her thoughts to never stray away from you, even when the alcohol slurred her speech, when the drugs enhanced her senses, when she was left alone with her thoughts.
you were well aware that she slept around, that she never settled down.
at first you thought you could handle it, that you wouldn't get attached, and it would be just another college fling.
you were left disappointed in yourself when you caught yourself frowning when she wouldnt return your “i love you’s”, the goodmorning-goodnight texts, or when she wouldn't call you back with the excited tone you felt like you had to work for.
and ‘work’ is just another word for sex, because it seemed like that was all she ever cared about.
like forming attachments was just something she couldn't find it in herself to care about.
normally you'd pump yourself up and convince yourself that you were special, that she cared about you at least a little bit more than she cared about her other girls, but this time, your bubble burst for good, no longer trying to justify or glorify the treatment you received.
there was no point in it.
she would wake up, you'd make her breakfast and she would be sober enough to walk home.
and after that, you would never speak again.
you'd change your courses, stop going to parties, cut off your mutual friends, throw away every photo, letter, gift, hoodie, every thing that reminded you of her, and alysa would become a distant memory you'd laugh at in a few years.
just as you cut out your ‘flawless’ plan to move on from her, alysa's hands tightened around your neck, reminding you of your earlier conversation, where she wrapped herself just like that, and you held her the same way you did whenever she would have a nightmare or you would be making up after an argument. you held her with the amount of love and care reserved for when she needed reassurance, for when she showed you that she needed you.
your chest ached at the thought that you would have to leave her tomorrow, knowing what she would do to herself. guilt and fear mixed up in your chest, blending together and creating a sense of protectiveness towards her. you wanted to protect her from what was about to come, to hold her and talk her through it all, but how could you protect her from your absence, knowing it's the only thing that protected you?
at the end of the day, if alysa really tried, she could replace you, but you could never replace her.
you were mistaken when you thought you could be just like her and detach yourself from everything. you cared far too much for this to stay a friday night stress reliever call.
the sky changed into the lighter purple-blueish shade it always did when the sun was preparing to rise above the horizon.
the clock on the nightstand confirmed your fears — there wasn't much time left until alysa would wake up, and you two would be forced to address the recent events.
alysa’s grip remained tight, leaving you trying to decide if you wanted to act nonchalant and pretend you hadn't been craving this, or allow yourself to — no, acknowledge that you were already melting in her embrace and that you were far gone.
everything you thought you had understood up until this point started to seem absurd.
you told yourself she didn't care. that you were nothing special.
yet here she was, clinging to you like a lifeline, begging for you to stay and actually seeming sincere.
part of you said she cared, that you mattered a little more than the other girls.
but then you would be discarded as soon as things got hard.
the bar was low, really. she wasn't a good person in general.. but still, being engulfed by flames seems comforting to those who have spent their entire lives buried in snow.
another thirty minutes of trying to make sense of it all passed until you noticed how heavy your eyelids had gotten.
there was no point in staying up. the moment of truth was tomorrow, and no amount of overthinking could prepare you for whatever outcome the universe created for you, so you let yourself bury your nose in alysa's hair for what was most likely the last time, and let sleep take you.
⋆⋆⋆
alysa tried to untangle herself from your embrace, each limb taking a decent amount of effort to free.
just as she managed to fully untangle herself, your eyes fluttered open, vision a little blurry.
as soon as you processed what was happening, a long, embarrassing whine came out of you in an attempt to make it known that you were unapproving of whatever was happening.
you didn't have enough energy to form a sentence — your brains were scrambled, and you were reduced to a whining mess.
alysa sat on the edge of the bed, scooting only a few inches closer to you in a feeble attempt to cease your whining.
“where are you going?” you asked, your tone a little higher pitched than usual.
“home.” she answered with a face that looked like she was clawing the words out of her mouth.
“aren't you staying for breakfast?”
“no- i..” alysa began trying to form a sentence, but she was cut off.
“how are you gonna sober up with no food?” you asked with the same whiny tone.
“but..”
“alysa.”
a long sigh from her.
“fine.”
that caused a soft smile to grow on your face.
the next thirty minutes were a blur — alysa took a shower while you prepared breakfast.
once the table was set, she sat across from you, refusing to make eye contact.
you'd prepared her favourite breakfast, and alysa thanked you for remembering, but to you, this wasn't something you did on purpose.
you always made her the exact same breakfast when she came over because you loved hearing her little squeals of excitement every time she caught a whiff of what was being prepared. to you this was instinct, routine, something you did absent mindedly.
for the first 10 minutes, you both picked at your food until alysa broke the ice, finally speaking.
“im not gonna tell you i'm sorry, because ive said it so many times, it doesn't mean anything to you..”
a beat of silence while you processed her words and the sudden shift in topic.
“but i..i did really try to improve the things you said i should improve.”
“like what?”
“i.. cleaned my room and the rest of my apartment..actually cleaned it, not just shove things in drawers and call it a day. i even wiped the counters and stuff. i also did my homework. poorly, but i did my best. and i stopped with the parties.”
“first, i have to see it to believe it. second, if you really stopped with the parties, how did i end up picking you up wasted from some rando’s house?”
both of you were surprised at the harsh tone your words escaped in. you weren't intending to sound like that, not when she was being so vulnerable.
it was almost like your body was trying to protect itself, acting on its own without your input.
for a second, you wanted to reach out, to wrap your arms around her and apologize for your harsh tone.
alysa cleared her throat, her gaze averting from your eyes and towards her food.
“well, you..you can check my grades, my room..i..you can even ask my friends, and they'll tell you that the party you picked me up from was the only party i attended since we fought.”
your glare burned into her forehead, disbelieving and full of frustration yet a want to believe her words.
a few moments of silence passed till alysa spoke again.
“i want to show you that i can be better.”
“i know you can be better..will you be better?”
“yes. please. just let me show you.”
“fine.”
you felt bad that you were giving her this treatment. you didn't like the words that came out of your mouth, you didn't like your voice, and you didn't like how alysa winced every time you opened your mouth.
⋆⋆⋆
alysa fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door. her hands were trembling, her body language and tense facial expression mirroring the fear and anxiety she was holding.
at first, you thought you walked into the wrong apartment.
the blinds were open — the sun illuminating the entire area, the usually cluttered chairs and tables now free of unnecessary weight (save for your hoodie she borrowed months ago still on the sofa), the counters shining, and the place filled with fresh air.
nothing about this place said “alysa’s”. the last time you were here, it was dark, messy and suffocating.
“oh wow,” you stammered. “i didnt think you were being serious.”
alysa remained silent, holding her own hands in a cowered stance.
“you did this?”
“i..yeah.”
you walked through the rooms.
her cats came rushing to you.
“oh wow, you actually groomed them too.”
“i did.”
“damn, lys.”
a slight smile tugged at her lips when she heard the nickname.
“well, okay..you got me there. i’m proud of you..i hope you keep this up.”
“i’ll try my best.”
“you better.”
you sigh and walk out of her bedroom, the door creaking behind you.
you clutch onto your bag, looking down to your feet and then up at the front door.
“i gotta go.”
“what?” alysa stammered.
“i have to go..got some chores.” lying through your teeth, trying to remove yourself from the uncomfortable atmosphere.
“wait– stay, we need to talk.” alysa insisted.
“what is there to talk about?” you questioned.
“i think you deserve some closure.”
“i have all the closure i need.”
“you think that but you really don't.”
“how are you gonna tell me what i need?”
“y/n.” her tone was whiny, eyes glossy and pleading with you.
alysa letting go of her dignity like this was a rare sight.
“you better make this worth my time.”
“just let me explain myself. if you choose to stay, great, and if you dont, well..its your choice.” her voice faltered at the “and if you dont”, and you pretended to not notice it.
you pretended the frown that grew on her face didn't bother you. how her shoulders being slumped instead of carried with confidence didn't overwhelm you with guilt, knowing you were the reason alysa was reduced to nothing but a pathetic, pleading mess.
the soft cushion on the sofa had the same cover you bought her months ago. it had a cat that resembled one of her past cats, and it threw you back to when you first gifted it to her, how she pretended not to care about it much, but she still softened and gave you a hug.
now you want to be in her embrace again, to let yourself melt and not let the outside world bother you any longer.
you sat down, holding the cushion, tracing little patterns on it.
alysa hesitated to sit close to you, her mouth opening without anything coming out.
“sit.”
she sat next to you, her knee bumping yours.
“sorry.”
“dont apologize.”
alysa wasn't the kind to apologize for seemingly small things like bumping into you. this was a first.
“ive been an asshole to you and to everybody else.”
“you have.”
she sighs, her chest aching at your affirmation.
“i don't get it. you come over, and you hold me like i'm the most precious thing in the world, and the next day you're posted up on some other girl's lap. how does that work?”
“i..im just scared of getting attached. i’m scared of being let down. disappointment isn't really a thing when you didn't expect much in the first place. i was scared. i didn't know how to run from what i was feeling, i didn’t want to accept that you were starting to mean more than a fling to me.. and.. the only way i could really distract myself is parties.”
“so all those nights i begged you to stay, to try and be something with me, to commit..and you just ran off to parties. and..”
“i thought you'd leave! i thought if we got together, and i got too comfortable and you saw how i really was — obsessive, broken, complicated, you'd leave, and i would get hurt.”
she was getting defensive, her voice raising slightly before she caught herself and lowered it, a little guilty from snapping like that.
“what makes you think that? i stayed through you hoeing around and i still tried to make something of us. you think I couldn't handle whatever else you could throw at me?”
alysa shut up at that. she realized she underestimated you. finally, she murmured: “she said the same, and she left not a month later.”
“..she?”
“my ex.”
“who?”
“there was this girl back in.. middle school,” only then did it fully hit her how stupid her whole thought process was. a small, embarrassed chuckle escaped her with the realization that this was something she should've gotten over years ago.
“she promised me she loved me as i was, that she'd stay..and when i started to get complicated, she left. and i got so attached, i really thought..this was it, i’ll marry her. when she left it broke me. i didn't let myself look at anyone how i looked at her ever again. when college rolled around, i dont know how this started, i dont know why i became this way. i promise. i'm not..i can love. i'm not completely broken.”
your heart broke a little at her confession, but your pain stood in the way of your sympathy making you forgive her and letting her off the hook.
“you can't let a failed middle school relationship keep holding you back from forming any meaningful connections.”
“i know!” a self deprecating laugh came out of her mouth, a sheepish smile on her face.
“i realize that now. and- and i hate how i handled this. because i care, okay? you were the only one on my mind for months, do you know how many bottles i had to down to run from my mind and find some distraction? i know this sounds insane, maybe because it really is.. but i don't want you to think that you weren't enough, or.. or that this was all surface level. i dont remember the last time i let someone hold me and kiss me like that. hell, our quick pecks were more intimate than the sex i had at random parties. my point is, if you thought you mattered to me more than others did, you were right.”
now the whole place was silent save for alysa's breath, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.
you were at a loss of words, your mouth opening, but no sound came out of it.
“just- please, let me show you, let me prove to you that i can be better?”
“i dont understand what you're asking.”
“will you be my girlfriend?” alysa blurted out.
you could've sworn your heart skipped a few beats, followed by your eyes widening.
“h-huh?” you stammered, giving her a confused look.
“you heard me. will you be my girlfriend?”
“you're serious?”
“yes.”
“..girlfriend.. like.. you're willing to commit…?”
the incredulous tone your words were spoken in made alysa wince and question how lowly you thought of her.
“yes. i'm..willing to do all the cheesy stuff, to do all the communication, the dates, the hard parts.. i’ll do it all if you let me.”
you bit your bottom lip, gauging her sincerity.
this was all you've ever wanted. what you've been begging for for the past couple months, and now it's being handed to you.
you couldn't tell if she was being serious, you couldn't tell if there was some ulterior motive behind this.
“please? just one chance?”
sigh.
“i’ll be your girlfriend.”
alysa perked up at that, her smile instantly growing, her hand reaching up to rest on your thigh without her even realizing.
“really??”
“yes, really.”
she no longer tried to suppress the tears that were threatening to wash over her cheeks.
her arms came up to wrap around your neck, burying her head in the crook of your neck, her tears forming a wet spot on your shirt.
you crumbled, fingers flying up to play with her hair in a soothing motion.
“you're being serious?” she asked between sobs.
“yes, lysa, i’m being serious.”
her legs moved to wrap around your waist, straddling you as she made herself comfortable.
“god i’ve missed you.”
“i missed you more.”
having her in your arms like this felt weird.
this was the first time you held her knowing she was yours, that she belonged in your arms and your arms only.
obviously, alysa still had to prove that she would keep her word.
she had to keep cleaning her place and taking proper care of her cats, keep parties on the low, stay loyal to you.
she gave you a spare key to her apartment so you could check on her whenever you'd like.
sometimes you'd catch her staring at the alcohol on the shelves, clearly fighting with herself not to grab one by the neck and down it in a minute.
you'd catch her struggle to cope with her emotions, sitting across you and relearning how to form a sentence that would express the emotions she was experiencing instead of the ones she thought you could digest with ease.
she would invite you to every party she went to and would be glued to your side the entire time, and every time a girl approached her, her heart was heavy with guilt when she saw the insecurity in your eyes.
alysa was still witty, nonchalant on the surface and complicated to understand, but this time she was willing to cooperate, to help you understand her and show you all the love she held for you in her heart.
her gifts turned from bribes to displays of affection, her attention no longer felt like something you had to work for, and her arms were your safe space instead of something you feared would never be yours.
each time she saw doubt creep onto your face, she made sure it disappeared as quickly as it came.
each time you seeked reassurance, she gave it to you, no questions asked.
her arms held you tight against her with love and care, gently squeezing you to let you know that you still belonged in her arms.
and you would always hum or squeeze back, reminding her that you were the only one who belonged in her arms.
