Slow burn from roommates to lovers, because idk man. As slow burn as you can make a oneshot.
Tw: reader is selectively mute, and is touch averse. Panic attacks and night terrors are described as well, negative self talk and abandonment issues.
Excuse any weirdness with this, I based the selective mutism loosely on what Iâve experienced
You saw all the people around campus laughing, talking, having fun. You knew that wasnât for you, people just never took time to understand. They didnât have patience to wait for you to croak out some small words, or write a note. So you stopped. You did your college assignments, emailed your professors, and didnât speak, except to the professors, and sometimes the counselor. Speaking requires trust. Trust in an individual to have patience, to wait until you are ready. It was something you learned nobody had time for.Â
You didnât like roommates for this reason. They always tried to pry you to talk too early, they knew you could, theyâd seen you talk to professors, so why not them? They would get frustrated, and irritable. It wasnât their fault, not really. You justâŚyou just couldnât speak. If they allowed it you would pass notes, but even then those little conversations were feeble. So, you always lived alone, it was less hassle anyway.
Unfortunately, when you had decided to look for college apartments so you could move out, only a few showed up. Out of those few only one was a studio, and taking one look at it, you understood why it was still available. Mildew crept up the walls and around the ceiling, the floors had enough water damage that they would crumble like a graham cracker under furniture, and that wasnât even accounting for the smell. The apartment smelled like someone had let milk spoil and mixed it with the most chemical floral scent you had ever smelled. Probably the landlord is trying to cover up whatever atrocities the previous tenant committed.
So, of course you took a two bedroom apartment. The apartment was nice, you had to give it that. There was a small kitchen as you walked into the living room with plenty of cooking space and an oven. A big window with plenty of bright sunlight streaming through the cream colored curtains sat on the other side of the apartment. A hallway appeared on your right as you walked further away from the entryway, complete with three doors. Not too terrible, you supposed.
You noticed there were some decorations around, and you assumed the roommate was already there. As you walked in you noticed a beige rug to wipe your shoes on, and small posters hung on the walls, of bands, shows, etc. not too bad. The landlord was sweet and asked simple questions, which you appreciated. Not having to get out your notepad every five minutes was nice.
Days after you first looked at the apartment, you had all your stuff in a car ready to move into the apartment, leasing was signed and everything was in order, now you just had to unpack. It took about thirty minutes to get everything all situated in your room for unpacking, so you shuffled out to the kitchenette in a tired haze with your school bag, intent on getting some English done.
Suddenly a fluffy haired boy poked his head out of his room and you nearly screamed. âHello, youâre the new roommate I assume?â you nodded in response to the overly bubbly person, turning away before he said anything else. âAh I see.â He giggles awkwardly and moves out of his room to stare at you. âMy nameâs Karl by the way.â
He seems to be waiting for you to respond, to which you only give a nod and set down your bag.Â
âUhm do you need help with any boxes or anything? Iâd be happy to help.â he steps closer and you shake your head as you fuss over your bag. He moves a little closer towards the kitchenette to grab some water or something, and you haul your bag back to your room. Nowhere was sacred.Â
It was a while before he tried to initiate conversation with you again, seeming to get the memo quickly. It had been around a week and you picked up on some of his odd habits. The boy drank monster energy like he would die without it, he painted his nails (you thought they were pretty but he would never know), and he giggled at everything. But all good things must come to an end.
So, as you were finishing up editing a piece for your English course, he knocked on your door, jolting you out of your concentration zone. You give an affirmative hum and he cracks the door open.
âHeyâŚuhm I was gonna watch a marvel movie in the living room, if you wannaâŚI dunnoâŚâ his sentence tapered off into a puff of air as you looked back at your work. You hummed gently, staring at your paper. It was almost finished and it wasnât due for three days, a movie couldnât hurt.
You look back and nod at him and a grin grows on his face. Apparently he didnât mind you being a little quiet. You still kept your guard up though.
âI have candy and popcorn if you want it, and some extra blankets.â He seemed incredibly happy just watching a movie, but hey, free popcorn wasnât something youâd pass up.
Nodding, you follow him to the living room where disney plus is queued up and plop down on the sofa as far away from Karl as possible. You mightâve imagined it, but he seems to slump a little at that. As soon as you take notice itâs gone, replaced with a bubbly persona. Karl starts the movie and relaxes into the couch, and you canât help but quietly snort at how he practically melts into it. At some point you reach for the candy bowl, noticing itâs filled with your favorite, and your brows furrow. Strange.
The movie was good, and Karl falls asleep during it, his lashes look unfairly pretty. They arenât really pretty though, justâŚtheyâre aesthetically pleasing to look at alright?
After that you notice a few more things. Karl randomly leaves pieces of candy on your desk while youâre out of the apartment, and he doesnât try to have conversation. He does offer meals together, and movie nights. You take him up on the movie nights, the dinners are too much face to face for you at one time. He also occasionally sings songs from bands youâve played out loud while making food for yourself.Â
Itâs odd. You thought you would be more weirded out by it but, honestly it reassures you more than anything. Sometimes the lump that rests on your throat eases up a little when youâre around him, sometimes enough to almost say something. You never do.Â
Karl understands though. He knows you donât talk at this point. He also knows you donât touch, ever. You made that very clear when he rested his hand on your shoulder as you cooked. The way you whipped around and held the sauce spoon to his neck told him all he needed to know about your preferences on physical touch.
He asks yes or no questions, and always makes a little noise when entering a room so as to not startle you, and you appreciate it.
The lump keeps getting less and less tight around him, and sometimes, during movies, from the opposite end of the couch, you whisper his name. It hurts, it feels like coals burning down your throat, and every time you speak, alarm bells go off. You fight it every time, because it feels so good to just utter something, anything. You never say it loud enough for him to hear.
One day, you make dinner and knock on his door. He opens it with a weary smile. âHi, what's up?â you offer the plate to him. âOh! What the honk? Thank you so much!â he moved to shut his door, thinking the usual exchange was over, but you stopped him, motioning to the coffee table by the sofa. âOh, okay, yeah, sure!â he looked at you curiously, this was new.
You decided the dining table was too much, so the coffee table would have to do.
âTh-â you were interrupted by a couple of coughs âthank you.â Karlâs fork clattered onto the plate, his eyes wide in shock. You huffed a laugh at his stunned expression
âYou can talk?!â he exclaimed.
You nod. You start to write on a piece of paper from your room you brought out. âSelectively mute. I canât always, only with people I really trust, most people write me off and donât even try.â
Karl nods looking away from the paper. âI appreciate the thanks, but itâs just human decency. You have a pretty voice by the way..â his cheeks were pink and he seemed flustered. huh.
After that Karl seems more comfortable around you, hovering in the kitchen as you cook, sitting in your room as you work, inching a little closer during movie nights, never close enough to touch, but close enough to be a presence. He continues to get you candy and stuff, but now you stock the fridge with monsters, as unhealthy as it may be for him.
Everything was great, until one night, about four months in, you had a night terror. They werenât common, but they all involved the same thing. You woke up soaked in cold sweat, sheer panic coursing through you. Icy sheets of fear washed over you nonstop and you hadnât realized you were screaming until you heard Karl run in.
âAre you hurt? Are you okay?â he paused, being familiar with anxiety and noticed the terror gripping your face and how your arms were bleeding with sratch marks. âhey, hey, come back to me, câmon, youâre here. This is your room. What youâre seeing isnât real, I promise, you are in your room.â he shushed your whimpers until you saw Karl properly.
That in itself sent you down a hole again, knowing he saw a panic, how would he still wanna be there with you?Â
â-ere, câmon, breathe, sh-sh-sh, itâs alright, câmon sunshine, breathe, you can do it, in, out, in, outâ you finally came to, seeing Karl clutching a corner of your blanket, obviously restraining himself from touching you.
âG-go. pl-â another coughing fit interrupts you, âplease.â Karlâs head hangs as he hears you, big blue eyes full of something you donât recognize. He slowly pulls himself up and walks towards the door, turning back to look at you once as you curl in on yourself with shame, before shutting your door.
It was a full week before you looked him in the eyes again. You avoided movie nights, locked your door at night, and ate in your school cafe, no matter how expensive it was. It felt terrible to rip away the one person who brought you comfort, but it was your fault wasnât it? You let him too close. He was too close.
Eventually Karl got sick of it and slept on the couch one night until you left for class in the morning. When the door inevitably woke him up, he cursed himself for sleeping through the alarm he set for your wake up time. He missed you. He missed the little laughs you let out over random moments in movies, or how you not-so-subtly hoarded your favorite candy during movie nights, or how concentrated you would get on your studies, he just missed you.Â
He got used to your pots clanging around at 6:30 pm when you made dinner, he got used to your little dances when you were taking a break from work, he got used to how messy your hair could get, he got used to your huffs of indignancs and your attitude.
Now they are gone. You were gone, and he felt horrible.
That evening Karl stood at the kitchen counter tapping his fingers against the fake granite. You were due home any second, and finally, finally, the doorknob jiggled.
You walked in and he swore you were gorgeous. Even with the eyebags and stooped posture and sullen expression.Â
âHey.â he blocks the hallway and you huff at him.âcan we talk?â
You look at the window, almost as if you wish you could jump out of it. Honestly considering the crushing rejection you might face, it seems more and more appealing.
âLook, Iâm sorry about the other night. I know you have some hard boundaries about your space, and I try to respect them, I do. But I heard screaming and I literally felt my blood run cold. IâŚi didnât know what that saying meant until now. I was so scared.â he peers at you, gauging your reaction.
You held your sides in a hug, waiting for the inevitable pitfall, the âwhat the actual hell man, thatâs weird as hell.â kicking out speech. The one where they say you being completely silent was fine but the screaming was too much. The one where they say itâs âtoo hardâ to be friends with a mute person. The one where they avoid your eyes, and laugh awkwardly, and shy away from you.
He paused and said âI care for you, you know?â your head shoots up, and confusion laces your features as your arms loosen from their iron grip around your ribs and waist. âDid you expect me to be mad?â His face shows surprise and concern.
Looking at the window again you give a slight nod. âMâŚmost peopleâŚâ
He waits, looking at you with wonder. When you donât speak he grabs you some water and looks at you again expectantly, waiting for words or a shake of your head. His face is a little pink and he seems concerned.
Well, the lump was fairly loose today, and you didnât feel like you were dying that first time, so maybe you could⌠âpeopleâŚavoid meâŚthey think IâŚthatâ
you pause. This was hard. It burned like fire. You knew there wasnât any real damage but you felt scared. âThat IâŚdonât want to talkâŚI guess.â
you turn towards the couch, away from karl. âIâŚwent through some stuffâŚI didnâtâŚI couldn'tâŚtalk after. It ruined meâŚthe psychologist saidâŚit was aâŚsomething response...trauma maybe?â you blinked away tears you hadnât remembered coming.
âI wantâŚI want to talkâŚand laughâŚand be normalâŚI do. I suppose, people donâtâŚI donât think they see me as a person.â you curled into yourself more, hunching over while facing the window.
âWow. I-I mean that makes a ton of sense now, but Iâm so sorry. Thatâs harsh, people shouldnât write you off and do that to you.â he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. It was gorgeous, lit by the sunset coming through the curtains. âPeople suck.â
Karl droops and lifts his arms slightly before dropping them with an unreadable expression on his face. It's gone as quick as it comes. âOkay, are you gonna do movie night again then? Because I really missed that.â
You rolled your eyes and nodded, plopping onto the couch.
Things continued as normal after that, but Karl began to invade your space even more. You noticed his love language was physical affection from all his friends you saw, and you felt a little guilty. It wasnât like you were withholding affection, it was just hard for you. You tried to make it up in other ways, making food, doing dishes, spending time with him, getting him monster and his favorite foods, leaving affirming notes around, and more. It still wasnât enough though, at least you felt like it wasnât.
Karl on the other hand was absolutely over the moon. He kept the little notes under his desk in a small cardboard box. He treasured every second you spent with him, every can of monster, every meal, every clean kitchen. He loved it. He also knew you were trying to make up for your inability to deal with physical contact. He hated that you felt that way but he felt like if it needed addressing, you would tell him.
This little dance lasted weeks, you being too afraid to take a leap, and him being too respectful to indulge when you leaned too close during movie nights. The dance felt electric, the almost touch of fingers reaching for the remote, the hips almost touching in the early morning coffee scramble, the hand hovering over the shoulder as you both studied for various exams. It was intoxicating and suffocating. You wanted contact.Â
You were desperate for human touch, a craving you hadnât experienced in a really long time, you couldn't remember the last time you had touched someone willingly. You yearned for a soft hand brushing hair away from your face, a hand on your shoulder as you did something, maybe an arm around your waist as you poured coffee. Oh, you longed for it so much it hurt like someone was squeezing your heart every time he was around.
Karl didnât see it, and you resented it. Yes he was respectful, and that was all well and lovely, but dammit you wanted a hug. You hadnât wanted a hug in forever, but now that you wanted it, it was all you needed. You felt like you were simply insane for wanting something as docile as a hug so badly.
You started with baby steps, brushing his hand as you gave him his coffee, and you swear he gasped softly as he looked at you.Â
Karl didnât notice until you brushed his hand, and what the honk? How were they so soft and warm? He looked at you with starstruck eyes, as his breath hitched. You had touched him. Willingly.
Purposefully. Normally there was an arrangement when passing things to each other. Avoid skin contact at all costs, and that was that, until now. You had just broken the barrier and he wanted to pull you in and hug you. Maybe sway with you to some stupid song after movie night, but he would take what he could get, and if that was hands brushing over a coffee mug, then so be it. He would savor it.
He started brushing against you, all the time. Any chance he had, his body was next to yours, his hand passing over yours. Coffee in the morning? He would gently hold your hand over the cup for a half second. Homework? He would have an arm against yours for a tiny second, leaning over to see what you were working on repeatedly. Cooking? He was grabbing spices and handing them to you, rubbing your knuckles softly as you took them.
You were going to die. This was the end. You had what you wanted, but it wasnât enough. You wanted to cry. So you did. Late at night you curled up under your sheets and let the saline drops fall. It was a strange sensation, something you hadnât done in a while. Your sobs were quiet but Karl heard you. Again. He was stupidly perceptive.
âSunshine? Are you okay?â you sniffled under your covers, trembling and hiccuping. You felt quiet sobs wrack your body. Unlike last time, Karl didnât restrain himself from sitting on the bed, clutching the sheets. â Can I hold you?â His voice was soft with compassion and something you dared not name. Not yet.
You sniffed and nodded against the sheets still facing the wall. You felt him scoot closer behind you and brush your hair away, tracing your face softly. His arms moved to gently flip you over and pull you into him, holding you around the middle. One of his hands traced patterns on your back, as the other played with the hair at the base of your neck.
It felt like anything you ever needed, everything you ever wanted, and you felt safe. Safe, and warm, and held. All you could think of was how secure you felt.
You felt a fresh wave of tears start and Karl, ever the sweetheart, move away slightly in fear that heâd upset you. You quietly whined and pulled him closer so he couldnât leave, and he giggled. That beautiful, warm, melodic giggle. Soon you both fell asleep, peacefully dreaming.
That became a new norm. Either of you would have a bad night and you would walk across the hall, and stumble into the otherâs bed. It was nice to wake up with Karl. his fluffy brown hair surrounded his head like a halo in the mornings, and you adored it.Â
Karl enjoyed waiting for you to sleep, seeing your eyes slowly open and close, blinking owlishly, until finally he would shush you to sleep, saying âItâs alright sunshine, you can sleep. Iâll be here.âÂ
There were also hugs, and such. You would feel Karl come up behind you and curl a sleepy arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Sometimes you would hug him as he did video editing for projects, a small drape around his middle, which he always giggled at profusely. Sometimes when you were both a little sleepy, you would hang off eachother, just embracing wherever you were.
Karl absolutely thrived off of the attention. He was so happy and giddy when you were around and you noticed. You began to say a couple sentences a day, to Karlâs growing surprise, and eventually you were able to say hi to classmates too.
It was so sweet, yet so, so bitter. You knew what the word you wanted to use that night was now. Without a doubt. And it hurt. You felt like your chest was caving in, and every time he held you, you wanted to sing, but you also wanted to sob. You loved him. You loved him truly, deeply, and wholly. This was what you were afraid of, the fall. You flew too close to the sun and it terrified you.
What you were unaware of however, was Karlâs mirrored struggle. He felt like you were his everything, his favorite person in the entire world, heâd rather lay in bed and hold you than do anything else. He loved all your little habits, and he loved how you looked. He loved your little huffs and expressions, and he absolutely adored your voice. He became enamored anytime you spoke, feeling absolutely entranced.Â
You both skittered around it. Soft spoken words were exchanged in the early morning and late evening, when inhibitions were down and you felt comfortable speaking. Soft touches were a common occurrence, excused by hairs being out of place, or food on cheeks. It was beautiful, in the same way a string instrument slowly builds a sweet melody. It was torturous though, the push and pull killed you both inside.Â
Soft touches eventually turned into forehead kisses when one night Karl absentmindedly leaned over as you cooked and kissed your temple. You both turned away and blushed severely at that, and Karl was quick to ask if it was okay. You hummed and nodded in response, brain still short circuiting from the kiss.
He would come up behind you now and hold your waist, kissing the top of your head fondly. You always blushed at it, and if Karl enjoyed seeing you a little red and embarrassed, well that was his business. Karl continued to kiss your forehead, until one day he stopped. He still hugged you, and held you on bad nights, but he didnât kiss you. It confused you. There was no warning, no 'I'm uncomfortable', just, stopped.
You of course internally panicked, after a few days you thought for sure he was mad, you had done something wrong. He felt weird about you and was slowly taking his affection away, inch by inch. You knew logically heâd never do something like that, but your brain was being a little irrational at the moment.
You started to shy away from touches, and Karl was hurt. He had only stopped kissing you because you hadnât done it back, so heâd assumed you didnât want them. He tried to hold you, to hug you like you both normally did, but you avoided it. He could tell it wasnât because you wanted to avoid him, you werenât subtle. You piled blankets on at night to keep warm and account for the body heat you had lost by sending Karl away. You sat close on the couch during movie nights, fidgeting, and squirming like you had somewhere to be. You hovered in his room or in the kitchen anytime he was doing something, like you wanted to ask for a hug, but decided against It. was unbearable, Karl could see you were longing for affection, so he decided that breaking boundaries for the sake of both partiesâ sanity was okay.
You were doing dishes in the kitchen when you felt his arms around you, and his face sank into your shoulder. You tried to slide them off, but he remained firm. âWhy are you avoiding me?â it was barely a murmur, but you felt it through your shirt. Â
âMâ notâ you reply simply
âLiar.â he breathes into your shoulder.
âWe still hang out, right?â he huffs in response âI donât know what you mean Karl.â
âEvery time I go to hold you, you push me away!â he had lifted his head up and you heard the soft tone of betrayal in his voice.
âIt was like that before, I donât see an issue.â despite your cold tone you were absolutely loving the warmth on your skin, hoping he wouldn't leave for maybe a couple minutes.
He sighs. âSunshine, please tell me what I did wrong?â you bristle at the nickname. That was for when he held you after panics. Not when you were washing dishes, what was going on?
âYou didnât do anythingâ that was a half truth, he had kissed you, but now he wouldnât and you were scared all the other nice things would leave too. The candy on your desk, the movie nights, the little touches, the sweet words, the comfort and solace you found in him. You were scared it would be ripped away, so you had pulled away first.
âObviously itâs something.â he pulled you tighter against him, pressing his face against the top of your head.
Frustration of having him so close yet needing to push him away overcame you, despite how much you enjoy his arms pressed against you and his head in your hair. âFine. Okay, if you must know, I was sad that you stopped.. UhmâŚtheâŚâ you felt him smile
âThe what?â he huffed a laugh
âYou know, the thingsâ you look down embarrassed. This was humiliating.
âNo, I don't know?â Karl did know, he was just being difficult. It was so cute, seeing you all red and flustered, however, he figured that was enough teasing. âOh! You mean this?â his face moved to the side of your head where he kissed your temple softly, pulling away slowly. âIs that what you meant?â His tone was soft, and a sweet smile playing at the corners of his lips.
âIâŚuhm, yeah. Yep.â his head returned to your shoulder.
âGood. Iâm glad it wasnât anything serious, I was really worried you were mad at me or something.â he pressed his face into your shoulder. âYou should finish the dishesâ
âI kinda have a leech right now, so itâs a little hard, you know.â he huffs dramatically and slowly loosens his grip, so he can go sit on the counter.
The dishes take you about twenty minutes and Karl is immediately back to hugging you like a leech again. His arms are tight around your middle and his face is pressed into your hair.
âI really, really missed this.â he breathes into your hair. A hand moves to your chin to turn it softly towards him, and he presses another kiss to your forehead, lingering as you lean into him. He pulls away softly and looks at you with unmistakable adoration. â You know youâre incredibly beautiful right?â you blue screen at that and he giggles at the deer in headlights expression.
âWell so are you!â you retort, turning back to the sink as his hand falls back to your waist. His arms tighten slightly as he slumps into your shoulder.
âShut uuuuupâ you giggle and reach to pet his hair, to which he responds by lolling his head closer to your hand.
âYouâre literally like a puppyâ you laugh out and he groans.
âMm alright then.â you hear a mischievous lilt to his voice and before you can ask heâs kissed your clothed shoulder so softly you'd barely feel it if you weren't paying attention. It sends a jolt of electricity through your spine, leaving you a little breathless. âIs that alright?â His voice is soft like when he kissed your forehead, a little lower and raspier. You canât help but melt more into him. you nod shocked and a little floaty from all the attention heâs giving you. He giggles at your soft behavior, and moves a bit closer to your neck and kisses bare skin âis that?â another nod. Your brain is mush, he's holding you and kissing you, and you're on cloud nine.
His hands turn you around to face him, and you see his cheeks are dusted vibrant pink. You want to say something, to comment on how nice and safe and warm he makes you feel, how his kisses don't make you scared, but all you manage to say is âprettyâ
He giggles and stares at you. His eyes flit down while he nibbles on the corner of his lips. He looks back into your eyes, and he's gone. They're so pretty and you're just standing there, against the sink, looking amazing like you always do and he can't help himself. âCan IâŚjust, can I maybe kiss you? Youâre so pretty and I just really wanna kiss your lips, yeah?â
âYeah.â you stare at his blue puppy dog eyes and you are gone. This man could steal your heart and youâd thank him. Scratch that he already did. And you did thank him, maybe not for that, but it counts.
He moves closer and heâs so warm and oh my gosh heâs right here, smiling softly at you, âYeah?â you can feel his breath on your lips and the proximity is so addictive you could melt.
âPlease just kiss me already.â you sigh and close your eyes. His lips press to yours and you feel warmth. No butterflies or flutters, just warm, sweet and safe. he tastes like monster energy and chocolate, and it's the best thing ever. He pulls your waist closer if even possible and he keeps kissing you softly, and you can't breathe but it's alright. Itâs wonderful, so wonderful. It's the feeling of sunshine in the morning when you sleep in, it's the feeling of comfort food, and late night movies, it is everything you want, and everything you need.
When you both pull away he kisses your cheek, and then your temple. âSo can I call you mine now? Because if I canât, I'm actually going to die.â you laugh and nod, and Karl pulls you close, rubbing his fingers up and down your back.
In the end it seems like renting a two bedroom apartment wasnât so terrible after all.
