#mitskicore

stanford!reader x stanford!tashi

author’s note: first time writing angst!!! or whatever the fuck this is.

warnings: swearing, tragic sapphic love, bad writing

The air reeks of wet cement and something else; was it longing? Or something else entirely as you faced Tashi Duncan on the empty tennis court with the moon’s glow shining on both of your figures, as if it was a third wheeler. You loved to practice at nighttime- something about the serenity of isolation and dimmed lights turned you towards it. The pair of you were both young, rising tennis stars, full of potential and star-power. She accepted you as her peer, and you couldn’t seem to grasp how she saw you both on the same level. You had entered multiple states of relentless questioning of what ‘’peers’’ meant to Tashi Duncan; maybe it was repressed love for you that she only ever took out on her racket, or a soul-burning hatred for herself whenever she even remotely demonised you. Tashi practiced in the sun; typically it would always cascade over her like a friend that’s there but not there. Like when you’re in your dorm thinking about her, but not at her match; but were you just a friend?

‘’It’s late, go home,’’ you commented, glancing up at her as you packed away your gear. It was post-practice, after all. She scoffed without malice-

‘’You think Stanford is my home?’’

‘’You know what I mean. Your dorm.’’ 

She doesn’t reply, instead she gently pulls you to your feet. Your racket is still in your hand as she stands behind you and adjusts your grip on the racket. As if you were practicing a serve,

‘’It helps to hold it more like… this. Less slipping,’’ Her voice is presumably soft, the intent was anything but. You nod, and for what felt like a lifetime, stood there with her cold and calloused hands around your warm ones. Then she pulls away, as if your skin itself burned her. The racket almost falls out of your hands before you quickly stuff it in your bag. 

‘’Why are you still here?’’ You question, zipping up your bag.

‘’The quiet… It's nice. I can see why you practice so late,’’ she sheepishly replied- not even she could believe the bullshit that came out of her usually snark-filled mouth.

‘’Or me,’’ you replied, almost teasingly. She didn’t protest.

One season passed, then another came; tennis season. And through the previous passing season, you and Tashi exchanged one-too-many fading moments of intimacy, the familiar cycle where she’d experience vulnerability around you- then run away; and you waited for her to come back every time. Somehow, it all leads to a shared room in a hotel, your match the next day. But you weren’t opposing each other, at least not for a trophy.

You were in the bed, a forgotten book lying neglected in your hands as you watched intensely as Tashi paced back and forth. As if she’s a caged animal. You’d love to burrow into her mind and figure out what she’s so anxious about and just put it to fucking rest. But you had a pretty good idea of what it was about, on who it was about. Usually if this was in her dorm, she’d run out onto the tennis court, but not everything could be fixed with a racket and a ball. You knew this best.

When the lights turned off, only then would she join you in bed. It was a common practice for you two. She got under the covers and stared through your soul in the pitch-black of the room. As if she was searching for a hint of dishonesty, but she wouldn’t find it. Not in you. She sighed in… relief? You couldn’t tell, not this time. Her hand finds your cheek, laying side-by-side, she kisses you. Lips enveloping each other, a fire burning between the two of you, which only caused you both to dive more deeply into each other; physically but also emotionally. She naturally breaks away first, but doesn’t stop holding you. You both pant, as if the breath that you lost in the kiss wouldn’t come back to haunt you both.

‘’No one can know, not until… later,’’ she says with a hint of hesitant fear in her tone. Her voice shook slightly. Maybe you were the only person who had seen her this vulnerable. You acted as if the venom that just spelled from her lips didn’t burn through your soul, and nodded; in understanding or just compliance?

You wondered if you actually existed to Tashi when you both were in a crowd. You stood next to her, directly next to her as girls swarmed around her in the locker room after her match; which she won, of course. As the others excitedly asked her questions, to sign things, what the match was like, who she was dating; you just stood there. Like your presence was fading every time she ignored your whispers of her name to get her attention. Your hand for a second itched to tug her sleeve, to pull her close, to let the locker room noise fade out instead of you. Then, you just left. You would’ve been making a scene if anyone had actually noticed you beforehand. Because who were you when you stood next to Tashi Duncan?

The storm back to your dorm was filled with internal bargaining, you wanted her to love you out loud for once. For her to kiss you in front of the crowd for once. Not just with the lights off. You swung open your dorm’s door and collapsed onto your twin-sized bed that you occasionally would wake up to with her in there; watching you, and then pretending nothing happened. It seemed to be that way with her, like nothing ever happened, when really- everything happened. You knew that each touch, fleeting glance, private kiss; meant so much more than she would ever let herself believe. And you just had to let it happen.

A knock came from the other side of the door, you left it unlocked. You never consciously meant too, but it always was for her. She opened it, and saw a rather broken figure of you sitting on the bed.

‘’Y’know, it’s not safe to leave it unlocked,’’ she sheepishly chuckled, but it died down as quickly as she saw how upset you were.

‘’Look, you know we can’t just be all lovey and dovey in public-’’

‘’Last time I checked, acting like I exist isn’t being all ‘lovey dovey’.’’

She sighed and went over to sit next to you. She didn’t try to touch you, or comfort you. She just was there. 

She sucked in a breath before reluctantly apologising, ''I-... ‘m sorry.’’ 

‘’How many apologies until you just let it be public-’’

‘’Are you a fucking child?’’ She erupted, standing up from the bed, she paced again. You couldn’t get a word out before she left your dorm and you sobbed. Gutturally. Each tear meant a lifetime without her, that was the last time you ever saw her. Because each time she’d pass by you on campus, it was just the ghost of the woman you used to know; and she haunted you. You wondered if you had a ghost, and if it haunted her. 

› SONG REQUEST OF THE DAY ⸻ fiona apple, 1996

but as scenery grows, I see in different lights the shades and shadows undulate in my perception my feelings swell and stretch i see from greater height i understand what i am still too proud to mention to you