Nikki x Unrequited!Reader -> Angst

Summary: Your options in Fairfield are vast, but the person who your heart belongs to is the only one who spins you around like you weigh nothing... and he doesn't like you back.

A/N: I know my heart wouldn't be able to take it, I think I would actually die if the man who spins me around every time we meet is in love with my best friend because I would be in love with him!

If Elio is the morning, then Percy is the night, and Jamie is the golden hours. Nikki is the sun, because the morning is upbeat and great to get the heart jumping, but you find yourself sleeping in from time to time. The night sky is beautiful, with a spread of stars like no other, but you tire eventually and drift off to dreamland. The golden hours of the day are perhaps the prettiest, but they're fleeting, and hard to catch. The sun, however, you need to live, to thrive. This reasoning is precisely why nothing matters if you don't have Nikki.

Jamie's princely charm has your face feeling warm every now and then, Elio's laughter is contagious, and Percy's flirting has you tongue-tied, but there's nothing quite like walking into Extra Fries when the world feels too heavy to carry. The lights may be bright, the smell of grease may be a little off-putting, and it always seems to be the wee hours of the dark when you creep in, but he's always there. His neck always snaps around, his mess of oaken curls bouncing, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, but once he sees it's you—

"Where have you been? I feel like it's been forever!"

And you—you in your eternal hopelessness, you feel the warm in his voice bloom like a rose, and you jump into his arms without a second thought. He lifts you effortlessly, and his skates have you guys spinning around like you're on ice, like you're flying and this is some kind of halogen heaven. His strong arms hold your waist and weight like you're a feather, and you're praying that he can't feel your chest pounding against his. Your moment of pure bliss is over before you're ready to let go, and he sets you down on the floor before Mia catches him and starts making a scene.

"I've been holding up," you beam. "Though I'm only here for pick-up, so we'll have to catch up another time."

He pouts and you swear that he's trying to kill you. You reach for his head, mussing his mop of silken brown waves, and purse your lips. They feel too cold, they yearn for his company, and you try to (poorly) hide it. You catch yourself staring, but tear your gaze away before he can notice. The heat in your blood begins to travel up your neck like boiling water.

"But I promise to be back soon, in a booth, with a whole meal, and an abominable snowman, and then I'll tell you everything."

His eyes wane into treacle crescents, so sweet you might melt on the spot, but you force your legs to stand straight. All it takes is one look of the smile that follows and you start to feel a little faint. A few of the other servers begin to stare, point, and chuckle, but you find yourself lost in this foggy, flustered reverie. The air conditioner, unfortunately, can't quell the heat growing on your cheeks. But before you or him can go on, the doors slide open, and Deja's figure doesn't stand lonely in the entrance.

"Cameron, Deja, welcome in!"

You watch the grin on Nikki's face grow brighter. He slides over and gives Deja a tight side-hug. He practically scoops Cameron into the air with his other arm, cheeks dusting a light rosy colour as he sets them down. You feel a bitter twinge churn your stomach as you watch, the taste travelling to your tongue. You try not to cringe, but find yourself counting floor tiles to keep distracted. It's so obvious that he likes them and you told yourself that when you found your thoughts starting to err when thinking about him.

But when has love ever listened to rationality? It's a forever losing game, a fate resigned, with laughable odds, praying to futile Gods, and falling for those angel-eyes always comes with a price. It's worth it, the little voice in the back of your head whispers, when you see the dimple on his right cheek, when he smiles at you. You keep wishing he'd only seem so overjoyed when he looks at you, is that too much, too selfish to ask for?

"Hey," Deja calls your name. "Are you coming or not?"

She's already got one foot out of the door by the time you snap back to attention. You turn around to Nikki, give him a quick hug, but your fingers linger on his biceps. It's really not fair, how you can be so enraptured by the adorable illusion of his face, when he's got the body of a marble statue. He's chiseled and lean in all the wrong ways—in the ways that you find yourself mentally drooling over. Wait, you're doing something. Focus, focus, focus.

"I'll see you soon then," you weakly affirm him.

You pat his forearm and ache to stay, but your feet move to join Deja. Cameron's already by the van by the time you both start walking. Neither of you say anything, but you catch her trailing your face, a knowing glimmer in the glint of her eye. You dart your own away, trying to mask the embarrassment lurking in your expression. It's not meant to be playful, just painfully aware. Perhaps a little teasing, but there's really no comfort in being infatuated with someone who's caught hook-line-and-sinker for someone else.

"Come on guys, you're being so slow!" Cam hollers.

You start to jog to the car, while Deja takes her sweet time. You take another peek at the diner, trying to push down the wistful feeling that's steadily flowering, trying to ignore the pulling feeling in your gut that tells you to run inside, and confess every burning desire you've had simmering in your mind since you first arrived in Fairfield. All the words build in the back of your throat and you swallow them. If you let one go, they might just all spill out like water.