#kier writes

Fandom:Project Hail Mary (2026), Project Hail Mary - Andy Weir Relationships: Ryland Grace & Rocky

Characters: Ryland Grace, Rocky (Project Hail Mary)

My boyfriend is wiping the kitchen counter obsessively.

I mean he cleans and all that, sure, but I’ve never seen him this maniacal about cleaning before.

The rag moves in tight circles over the marble, over and over, the lemon cleaner sharp in the air. Afternoon light spills through the kitchen window, catching in the thin streaks of water he keeps making and immediately wiping away again like the counter personally offended him.

I glance at the clock.

Three in the afternoon.

Not normally the time people decide the kitchen needs to be exorcised. Nick still hasn’t noticed me leaning against the doorway. Or maybe he has and he's just pretending he hasn't.

His shoulders are tense, hair slightly messy, like he’s been running his hands through it every few minutes. The rag keeps moving in fast little circles like he’s trying to polish the counter into glass.

“Nick,” I say.

“Yeah?” he answers instantly. He doesn’t look up. The rag keeps moving.

Circle. Circle. Circle.

I watch him for another few seconds.

“Did the counter… do something to you?”

That makes him pause.

Just for a second.

Then the rag resumes its frantic scrubbing.

“No.” That’s suspicious. I push myself off the doorway and wander further into the kitchen, the cool tile pressing against my bare feet. The smell of cleaner follows him like a cloud.

“Nick.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve cleaned the same spot for like five minutes.”

“I’m being thorough.”

“Uh-huh.”

I lean against the island, watching him like a scientist observing a strange animal in the wild.

He wipes. And wipes. And wipes.

“…What did you do?” The rag stops. Nick freezes.

Slowly—very slowly—he looks up at me. His eyes do that thing they always do when he’s guilty. Wide. Blinking too fast.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Nick.”

“I didn’t.”

I narrow my eyes. Then I glance down the hallway toward our room. Toward my little office nook.

Toward the desk that, earlier today, definitely had my sketchbook sitting on top of it.

A thought clicks into place. My head slowly turns back to him.

“…Nick.”

“What?”

“Where’s my sketchbook.”

The silence is immediate. Heavy. Nick looks at the counter. Then the rag. Then the ceiling.

Anywhere but me.

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

Nick winces.

“What did you do to my sketchbook?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he says quickly.

Pause.

“…Bad.”

I cross my arms.

“Nick.”

Another pause.

“…I spilled coffee on it.”

My jaw drops.

“You WHAT?”

“It was an accident!” he blurts. “I brought you coffee! Like a good boyfriend! And then I tripped on the stupid chair leg and—” He gestures wildly. “—gravity happened.”

I stare at him. He stares back. Small. Guilty.

“…So you’ve been cleaning the kitchen,” I say slowly, “because you destroyed my sketchbook?”

Nick rubs the back of his neck. “I thought if I cleaned enough you might… not notice.”

I blink.

“…Nick.”

“Yeah?”

“You reorganized my entire office.”

“…I panicked.”

I try to stay mad. I really do. But the image of him frantically cleaning the house like a raccoon covering up a crime makes my mouth twitch.

“Is it ruined?” I ask.

Nick immediately brightens a little.

“No! I dried it! I even put paper towels between the pages! I googled it!”

“You googled it?”

“For like forty minutes.”

I sigh, already turning toward the hallway.

“Show me.”

Nick follows behind me like a very nervous golden retriever.

As we walked, our shoes squeaked at the friction of the now shining floors. The hallway carried the sound farther than usual, like the house itself wasn’t used to being this quiet, this polished. Afternoon light slipped through the windows and spread across the tiles, catching in the thin shine Nick had scrubbed into them.

The walls felt lighter somehow.

Cleaner.

I glanced around as we passed through the living room, every surface looking strangely unfamiliar in its neatness, and I had the quiet, certain thought that our house would probably never look like this again.

Not really.

This kind of thing only happened once in a blue moon.

Still, what ever Nick has in store for me, it would be fine.

A/N: I really hope you guys liked this one, I've been putting off this idea for so long so I can write it on my pace. I'm starting to get my writing flame back, and interacting with people on this platform.

Love u lots, XOXO - Kier

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 “It’s only the middle of August,” the small girl sighed. 

“I’ll make you a deal sweetie, you tell me who this mystery man you’re head over heels in love with and you can stay for two more weeks.” Y/n laughed at her mother’s proposal. 

“His name is Rafe and he makes me happy mom,” She smiled and blushed at the thought of him. The way he smelled. The way he smiled whenever he saw something he liked. That little twinkle in his eye. It’d been two months and she was head over heels in love with him. And all she knew was his first name.

“What do you mean you’re going back?! There’s two weeks of summer left Y/n!” Rafe’s voice boomed off the walls of Y/n’s grandparent’s house, as they were gone for the day. They practically were as rich as the Cameron’s, if not more. 

“I have to, Rafe,” she admitted as tears drove their way down her now tan skin.

“Why? You’re almost 18, can’t you stay? You can live with me and we can find a house on figure 8. We can be happy,” he spoke.

“I haven’t even finished my studies Rafe,” she argued. The short girl had one year of studies left before she could be free.

“So this is it, you’re leaving,” he glared. He was just as heartbroken as the brunette girl, if not more. 

“I told you I’m coming back Rafe! I’m coming back after I finish my studies,” she cried out. 

“No, you’re leaving me. But I’‘m leaving you before you get the chance to break my heart,” and with that he walked out the door of the house. Leaving not one, but two broken hearts in his path. 

“Come on Y/n! We’re gonna be late for midsummers!” Y/n’s best friend, Sarah yelled up the staircase. The brunette had been best friends with Sarah since she moved to the Kook Academy from her mainland school almost 8 months ago. Sarah’s dad knew Y/n’s dad because of real estate and Mr. Cameron had sold the L/n’s one of the neighboring houses for them to move in on the Figure 8. Y/n knew Sarah had one sibling, a sister named Wheezie, but that was it.

“I’m coming! Do you know how hard it was to get these stupid heels on,” she complained as she walked down the stairs, the cerulean floor-length dress sliding with each step. 

“My my, aren’t you a pretty sight,” Sarah winked.

“Oh hush you angel, you look amazing,” Y/n laughed.

“Shall we?” the blonde held out an arm as the brunette accepted it, linking their arms together. 

“We shall.”

“Would you two ladies like to dance?” A tuxedo-clad JJ Maybank held out a hand.

“JJ? What are you doing here, I know you aren’t working midsummers,” Y/n asked as he danced with them, discretely passing a paper to Sarah.

“I’m on a mission and my mission was to get a secret note to kook princess number one and a kiss to kook princess number two,” he winked before placing a small kiss on the brunette’s cheek, a rose shaded blush encasing her cheeks.

“Well aren’t you the sweetest,” she laughed before two guys came up to the trio. She recognized one as Kelce, the other she didn’t really recognize.

“What’s this dirty pogue doing here Sarah?” The guy standing by Kelce demanded, JJ quietly slipping away as the the guy stared at Sarah, awaiting an explanation.

“Wait-” Y/n overlooked the blue tuxedo clad boy, “Rafe?!”

He looked over at her words, a look of remembrance crossing his face.

“Y/n?” He asked, the small girl nodding at his voice as he moved the two feet distance to encase her in his arms, swinging the two around, her contagious laugh filling the air. 

“When did you get back?” he asked before Kelce cleared his throat, the couple forgetting there was an audience, “Uh I mean, nice to see your pretty ass again,” he winked as Y/n’s smile fell. This wasn’t the Rafe she knew. 

“I uh moved back when school started,” she admitted, brushing a stray hair out of her face. 

“Well that’s pretty cool, maybe I’ll see you around,” he smirked as Kelce clapped him on the shoulder before the two walked away.

“I hate him! I hate him I hate him I hate him!” She exclaimed as Sarah laid a hand on her arm, calming the girl. 

“I’m sorry my brother is such a dick, he’s been like that since his summer fling left last summer,” she admitted.

“Brother?!” Y/n exclaimed. Sarah never said she had a brother and Rafe never said he had sisters.

“Yeah..” she trailed off.

“Hey Sarah?” She looked up.

“Yeah?”

“I’m that summer fling.”

Nicks looks so free right now. He leans his head out the car window—his hair being blown by the wind—his smile emitting light. Okay, that might just be me.

We're heading to the beach—our beach—where there's no sand, it's all rocks. No one comes there. Just me and Nick. Me and Nick, I like the sound of that.

We found it one time, when I was so upset I just had to get away, away from this stupid town, stupid school—stupid house.

Nick suggested this beach on the other side of town. It was... Secluded? Back then, Nick and I only knew about each other. Didn't really spoke before then. But he offered kindness.

I'd adore him for forever because of that.

We were neighbors tho, our houses opposite each other's, I'd always see him, walking out with his 2 brothers—clones? Maybe.

They'd always seem pick on each other and have fun, and their mom would drive them to school. It's chaotic, it's home. I don't have that.

Our moms were pretty good friends tho, they'd make us hang out, but I was closer to Nick than his brothers honestly. That doesn't mean I'm not friends with them tho.

Nick has always been the outgoing one, he'd have a ton of friends clinging to him. If he makes a joke everyone laughs. I'm with him, of course. But I'm in orbit—not with the group. I always think people only invites me because I'm "Nick's friend" and nothing more.

"Miles."

I shot back.

"Hey, turn up the music" Nick screams. Apparently he has been trying to get my attention for the past minute.

"Yeah" I reply as I reach for the knob of the radio. "Loud enough, monsieur?" I shoot him a look from the rearview mirror. He laughs. That amazing—spring-like laugh.

I tilt the rearview mirror to catch him better.

I mean, it's an amazing view. He's pants sitting right at his waist. A brown leather belt with a gold buckle holding it up. And—I'm not weird—he's not wearing any shirt on.

"Don't stare, creep. You'll have to have a subscription for that" he coos, mock-covering his torso. I didn't even clock that I was staring.

Guess I was.

Lovefool by the cardigans started playing, Nick's eyes got 13 times wider—if that's even possible—and started singing obnoxiously.

He continues to sing loudly until we finally arrived, the sun about to set. I park the car, close to a tree.

'We arrived at the perfect time' he claims as he opens the car door, his voice sounding like raindrops.

'The sun is about to set, what do you mean " perfect time"?'

"It. Is." He commands, leaning in a little and clapping his hand on every word.

Nick leans back a little, taking off his pants. It was brown denim, it was so beautiful. His belt, sitting at a rock—shining. He turned his head to me.

"Hey, don't peak" he claims. "I'm not, weirdo" I reply.

Nick laughs at this, his voice echoing like rain. "Can you hold this for me?" He says holding up his jeans. I take it. The denim feels rough on my skin. But it's real. It's alive. It's... Him.

I laugh at this. And I looked at him. The sun outlined his torso, his skin all orange because of the sun. The pink sky. His eyes—I swear they looked like heaven—and if it were... I was ready to do good deeds to be on it.

He has always looked this good. In his bedroom, while I'm learning to play guitar. Our drives. Our screaming fest—listening to all his favorite songs.

I know that I love him.

I have a feeling he might loves me back.

But I can't, I couldn't, I shouldn't.

"Bennett" Nick roars, he's in the water now. Watching me, still holding his jeans. "Come, quickly" he shouts again.

Bennett... He's the only one to call me that, well except for my parents of course. He always yell "Miles Bennett" like it's his. Not mine. But... I'd let him have it.

I strip off my shirt and toss it somewhere, my pants coming with it. As I ran, Nick is already deep enough. His head is peaking out and bobbing with the waves.

When my skin made contact with the water, it sent shivers all over my body—but I continue anyways.

Seeing Nick—his curls plastered to his forehead, droplets of water catching gleamers of the dying sunlight, his eyes—heaven like—looks at me like I'm the only one worth seeing.

"Finally" Nick complains, rolling his eyes a bit. But he's smirking so I know he's being himself again.

"Patience isn't really your thing huh?" I shoot back, trying to keep it light. But my heart says otherwise.

He grins at my reply, head tilting sideways a little bit. Grin on, his eyes gleaming. "Not when it comes to you"

And just like that. The world around us blurs.

It's us, and the shore, the rocks, the waves. But I don't really look at them, all I mind is this boy standing inches away from me.

He's smiling, like he knows something I don't.

The waves nudge us together, the water carrying us closer until I can feel his warmth even through the cold sea.

I don't know if it's the salt stinging my lips but I swear his laughs linger in my chest like it belongs there—that somehow, I wanted to stay in this moment forever.

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐚𝐡𝐡𝐡!!! 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏!!! 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬!!! 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬!!!