˗ˏˋhazy stupors and startled leaps 'ˎ˗

➷

As consciousness gradually reclaims its hold, the world around Amoli slowly emerges from a haze after hearing the sound of a door shutting.

She instinctively reaches out to sleepily pat the space beside her, eyebrows drawing together when her fingers find nothing but empty sheets. Her bleary eyes flutter open just as a moment of confusion settles in.

Mahi? she thinks absently, blinking once, twice, letting the familiarity of her surroundings slowly begin to take shape in the too-bright light before she attempts to sit up, a heaviness clinging to her limbs that causes her to slump back against the plush pillows.

Rubbing her eyes, she surveys the room once more, a lingering disorientation seeping into her thoughts.

In an attempt to get up again, she swings her legs over the side of the bed, the cool, tiled floor beneath her bare feet waking her up a little more even as a tingling sensation begins spreading through her body; pins and needles dancing across her skin.

The room sways gently, playing tricks on her senses, but she steadies herself with a hand on the mattress and looks around again. The faint sound of running water breaks through the stillness of the room, growing louder with each passing second.

11:25, the clock reads when she finally pushes herself upright and stretches her arms above her head, waiting for the sleep-induced stiffness to fade as the sound of the shower echoes through the walls.

When did I fall asleep? she wonders groggily, and shuffles towards the dresser to look at herself in the mirror. The disheveled figure staring back at her is barely recognizable; tousled hair framing her face in a way that still bores the remnants of sleep, a slight puffiness under her eyes, with creases imprinted on her cheeks from the pillows.

"Ugh," she groans at the sight, pulling off the scrunchie she always keeps around her wrist to tie it around her hair before trying to rub the sleep lines out of her face. The reflection of the whiteboard beside Mahika's desk distracts her only a second later though, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips when she remembers that they never wrote the names that were supposed to be in red.

Her eyes drift to her brother's name, and she finds herself drawing a long breath. Ducks her head down. Thinks about the words, 'No straight person says that shit unprompted', and squeezes her eyes shut.

Amoli had managed to not think too hard about it when she was talking to Mahika, but now under the slumber mist, she can't help but notice the beginning of an uncomfortable swirl in her stomach get more and more prominent.

The idea of coming out to her brother brings all of her insecurities to the forefront, and she can't put a finger on why. In her subconscious, she knows that it doesn't matter if Arnav likes boys. Or girls. Or both. Hell, it doesn't even matter if he likes neither.

It doesn't take away from her apprehension.

The bathroom door clicks open, and Mahika steps out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam following after her because she's the only person Amoli knows who takes showers so hot they'd melt the skin off a normal person's bones.

And Mahika is anything but normal, apparently.

"Are you admiring yourself or having a meltdown?" Mahika asks, and Amoli sees her press a towel to the back of her neck in the mirror.

Amoli steps aside a little when Mahika comes a little closer to grab her lotion from the dresser, trying not to inhale too deeply when the smell of Mahika's familiar rose body wash wafts over her.

It should be embarrassing how fast Amoli had acquainted herself with that scent, but she thinks she could do worse.

And she will soon, really, if Mahika keeps smiling at her in the mirror like that. Like it's the most natural thing in the world for them to be standing in Mahika's room like this — Mahika freshly showered and clad in a ratty Star Wars shirt that's probably not seen the world outside her house in years, and Amoli beside Mahika with her cheeks and clothes crumpled from sleep still.

"You've got to stop leaving me alone in bed," Amoli jokes instead of responding to Mahika's question, mostly to keep herself from doing something stupid. Like tug the pin out of the bun Mahika's put her hair in and kiss her silly.

She knows she has a bad brain-to-mouth filter when she's sleepy, but apparently her brain in general isn't any less of a mess.

"You've got to stop passing out on me," Mahika fires back, moisturizing her lips and smacking them together while Amoli sticks her tongue out childishly. "We should discuss your bedtime before we discuss coming out, actually."

"Shut up," Amoli whines, folding her arms across her chest, trying not to dwell too hard on how easily Mahika says 'we'. She needs to be much, much more awake for that one. "How long was I asleep for, anyway? I don't even remember when it happened."

Mahika rolls her eyes and steps back from the mirror to stare Amoli down and mimic her stance with her arms folded across her chest. "About two hours."

Amoli scrunches her eyebrows together and covers her cheeks with her hands, glancing at herself in the mirror again. "And I look like a steamed momo already? That's just wrong."

Mahika laughs a little too hard for almost midnight. "You look fine." She takes hold of Amoli's wrists in an attempt to make her let go of her face. When Amoli doesn't budge, pursing her lips together and shaking her head, Mahika just puts her hands on Amoli's and presses harder, until Amoli's face is squished into a pout. "Maybe a bit like a baby bird now, but —"

Amoli takes hold of her wrists and pulls away with a groan-laugh.

"You look fine," Mahika repeats, easing her wrists out of Amoli's grasp to take hold of her hands instead. The tips of her fingers are cold, and Amoli tells herself that's the reason why she suddenly feels much, much more awake. Not because Mahika is close enough for Amoli to count all of the cute little moles on her face.

Not that she needs to.

She'd spent a long, long while tracing them with the tips of her fingers and pressing tiny kisses to all of them the other night while Mahika had giggled and squeaked, trying to bat Amoli's hands away from her face in embarrassment.

Amoli smiles at the memory and bows her head to hide it.

"You know..." Mahika murmurs, giving Amoli's fingers a light squeeze before slowly trailing her hand upwards, long, slim fingers encircling Amoli's arm. Just under her elbow. Amoli tries not to melt into a puddle on the floor when Mahika pulls Amoli's arm around her own waist. "If I was a guy, I could just be like... hey, we should go for a drive together. And not worry about how late it is. Or how much easier it would be to... y'know, not get attacked by other men that way. Or die."

Amoli finds herself shaking her head in amusement despite the morbid image. "Mhm. Ten out of ten." Mahika's arm loops around Amoli's waist as well, and nothing has ever come as easy to Amoli as stepping into Mahika's embrace does. "Very romantic."

"That's what I thought." Amoli lowers her temple to the divot between Mahika's collarbones, and Mahika's hand finds the side of Amoli's face like they've been doing this forever. Amoli's senses are awash with warmth and fondness and roses, and she shifts to tuck her nose against the side of Mahika's neck so she doesn't have to think about the fact that she's leaving in the morning.

"Kinda glad you aren't, though."

"Hm?"

Amoli traces the dip of Mahika's spine with her fingers, and yeah, she thinks, following the line of her waist with the same hand like she could burn the shape of Mahika's dainty figure into her memory forever. Really glad.

"Glad I'm not what?" Mahika asks, and Amoli wonders if she just imagined it or if Mahika's sides really just trembled under Amoli's arms.

"A guy," Amoli answers with a breathy little chuckle, expecting Mahika to follow. But she doesn't, and the silence makes Amoli look up. Find Mahika looking down at her with her lips pulled back in a soft, shy smile. "What?"

And Mahika shakes her head and laughs, goes a little red around the cheeks, and ducks her head into Amoli's shoulder.

"What?" she repeats, because it's not often that she sees Mahika trying to make herself seem small like this. It's ridiculously endearing. Amoli's also caught a bit by surprise, because usually she just finds herself at the other end of Mahika's relentless teasing.

"I dunno," Mahika mumbles into her neck. "'m glad too." Amoli hears the smile in her voice. Feels it on her skin. Tries to control her breathing. "Like it like this."

"Yeah," Amoli breathes, even though she isn't completely sure what this means. She just knows that she wouldn't have this any other way. Wouldn't trade the feeling of Mahika's back under her hands — warm even through the well-worn fabric of her shirt — for anything in the world. "Like it like this, too." Tries to burrow herself even closer. "Like you like this."

Mahika makes a low noise, just a soft little thing in the back of her throat that could mean anything at all. Amoli would have asked, but then Mahika just says, "You've — What. Like me? You have a crush on me? Gross, Amo. That's so embarrassing."

"It's a little gay, I know. I'm sorry," Amoli says somberly without missing a beat, and Mahika laughs and laughs and laughs. "When we first met, I told myself I'd call you 'bro', you know, so things wouldn't go too far, but —"

"Oh, my God."

"I mean, I could still do that, if that would help —"

"No way you're calling me anything but my name," Mahika complains, lifting her head off of Amoli's shoulder, and then doesn't complain at all when Amoli nudges herself forward and kisses her.

She tastes a little like mint toothpaste, and Amoli thinks, This is the first time I've kissed her. All of the other times, it's been Mahika who made the first move. Not that Amoli is complaining, because she knows she's a coward. And that they would have gotten nowhere if Mahika wasn't braver than her. In more ways than one.

It's soft and undeniably gentle, but then Mahika's lips part and she tilts her head, and Amoli thinks the room might be spinning when she slots their mouths together again.

Mahika makes a quiet, cut-off sound in the back of her throat when Amoli's fingers bunch up the back of her shirt and accidentally find soft, warm skin, and this little whine spills out of Amoli in turn when they break apart for air.

"Shit —" Amoli cusses, low and breathy when Mahika just leans back in to trace her jaw with her lips because Amoli doesn't know how far she's allowed to go; how closely she's supposed to touch. "Sorry, m'sorry —"

Mahika hums in question, the sound muffled against Amoli's skin. "What? No... s'okay." She catches Amoli's wrist before she can pull away, and splays Amoli's hand open before putting it back on her waist. "It's okay, c'mere baby. You're fine. You can touch." And then she kisses Amoli slow and deep in a way that has Amoli feeling hazy, hazy, hazy, and adds, "Want you to."

They kiss for Amoli doesn't know how long, but for a while, it's just Mahika's lips sliding against her own. Fingers twining and untwining. Wandering. Finding each other's hands again.

"Want you to," Mahika repeats against Amoli's lips, more firmly this time, index and middle finger pressing on the stuttering pulse on Amoli's wrist. "Is that okay?"

Amoli breathes her in, and then straightens when she finally finds the courage to look Mahika in the eye. "Yeah." When Mahika cups her face and presses the tips of their noses together, strokes her cheekbones with her thumbs, Amoli tightens her hands on Mahika's waist — only for a moment, and repeats in a whisper, "Yeah."

She knows her face is flushed red but she sees Mahika pushing down a smile before pressing kisses across Amoli's cheekbones, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and then her lips again and it's so unbelievably tender that Amoli doesn't think much about anything else.

Mahika's hands slide down from Amoli's neck to her shoulders; circle around her waist to the small of her back like she knows. Like she knows Amoli feels grounded by the simplest of physical touch. And maybe she does, because she brings their bodies even closer together and only grins cheekily in response when a short squeak escapes Amoli's mouth at the proximity.

Amoli blinks up at her. Takes a shuddery breath when Mahika fists her hands in Amoli's shirt. Closes her eyes when Mahika leans in again and presses her lips to the dip behind Amoli's ear.

And then she hikes the hem of Amoli's shirt up with one hand, until there's a thin strip of skin visible above the waistband of her sweatpants, pauses, lightly knocks their foreheads together, and murmurs, "Still okay?" into the still air between them.

"Yeah," Amoli breathes, trying not to tremble under Mahika's fingertips but it's so, so hard when Mahika is basically breathing against the shell of her ear. "Mahi, I — Oh, fuck, your hands are cold!" Amoli almost jumps out of her skin at the first direct contact of Mahika's fingers with her spine. "What the fuck."

Maika tips her head back only to laugh, hands tucked under Amoli's shirt to trace her bare waist with seemingly no intention of letting go. "And you're warm," she teases when she leans close again, noses touching for a second before Mahika presses another series of chaste kisses to Amoli's lips. "You know what they say..."

"Hm...?"

"The key to a healthy relationship is thermodynamic equilibrium."

"Oh, you nerd — eek!" Mahika laughs again at the yelp Amoli lets out the second Mahika touches the soft skin of Amoli's belly with her fingers, at the way she jerks away a little in surprise. "Stop that. How are you freezing when you practically shower in lava? This is ridiculous."

Mahika hums as she brings a hand back up and traces the line of Amoli's lower lip with her finger, and then her thumb presses to the corner of Amoli's mouth. "Do you really want a lesson in science right now when we could be doing something far more interesting?"

Amoli's fingers slip up under Mahika's shirt too, now that she knows that she's allowed to; knows Mahika wants her to. Strokes the soft skin there, right above the waistband. Touches the soft of her stomach, feels the way it makes Mahika shiver a little.

"Whatever you're thinking of as an alternative," Amoli mumbles, trying not to melt into the touch, can already imagine the way she would go soft and pliant under Mahika's hands if she let herself, "is probably also a lesson in science, so..."

Mahika tilts her head a little and blinks. Once. Twice. And then she gasps; laughs and laughs and laughs, the sound so incredibly soft and sweet that it melts like warm raw honey in the air. Says, "You're the one who said it, okay?" and then flicks Amoli on the nose when she snaps her teeth around the air near Mahika's finger, threatening to bite.

They're laughing together when Mahika loops her arms tighter around Amoli's waist and pushes them both back; laughing when the back of Amoli's knees hit the edge of the bed and they both fall together into Mahika's soft, flowery sheets; laughing when Mahika purposely sneaks her fingers back under Amoli's shirt just to make her gasp-giggle; laughing and laughing and laughing and then not because Mahika's fingers trail up, up, up until Amoli whispers her name like a prayer and,

Amoli sinks back into the pillows and breathes, "Mahi..." into the air like it's a whole sentence, twisting the soft sheets in her fists because she's once again lost on where she's allowed to touch, how much of Mahika's skin she's allowed to trace with the tips of her fingers before Amoli's breath stutters to a full stop and,

She emerges from sleep with a startled leap.

Amoli's gasp echoes in the room — her own room, if the familiar lilac walls and ivory curtains are anything to go by — and in her own ears.

She sits up blazingly quick, sheets spilling around her as her chest rises and falls quickly; breath even quicker as her eyes dart around the room once more.

The sunlight that pours in through the open curtains dances and bounces across the walls. The birds outside chirp in harmony. The clock on the wall reads 8:45 am. Amoli looks away. Takes a deep breath. Slowly lays back down on her side with her eyes blown wide.

And then she grabs one of the pillows, buries her face in it, and screams.

-

One day.

It's been one day since Amoli left Mahika's place and came back home.

She doesn't know why there's this unfamiliar feeling in her chest alongside the permanent blush spread across her cheeks that won't leave no matter how hard she tries to will it away, but it's becoming a problem.

Because at breakfast, she can feel the heat at the back of her neck, the tips of her ears, prickling at her scalp, and she can't focus on anything except the echo inside her head that asks, We didn't even go further than a few kisses. Absentmindedly pushes her mung bean salad around on the plate, not even trying to fight the made-up memory now branded inside her head anymore. Where did the rest even come from?

And more importantly, how is she supposed to look Mahika in the eye after this?

The chime of her phone startles her more than it should.

She probably jerked a bit too hard in surprise, because Arnav, who was busy with his sketch while Amoli was having an internal crisis, looks up at her across the table with his stylus paused mid-air.

He raises his eyebrows like, what?

Amoli makes a face at him and grabs her phone without a word.

Her heart jolts inside her chest when she sees that it's a text from Mahika, and: Oh, God, she thinks, praying to whoever's listening that her face doesn't resemble a firetruck right now. This is bad.

woke up today and the house felt so empty :(

Amoli feels the tight nervousness in her chest soften like mousse. She throws one look at her brother, finds him occupied with his work again, and begins typing a response.

It's not even been 24 hours

Mahika seems to catch on to the joke immediately, because she replies with a: ok and? i don't know what you're getting at.

And before the smile on Amoli's face can split her face in half, another text pops up.

also like. not to be nsfw or anything but
i kinda wanna hold your hand rn

Omg gross

:(

That's so inappropriate

:((

but amoooo

But what

come back

sleeping all alone feels weird

Stop sexting me!!!
I'm having breakfast

:(((

"I've never seen you smile at your phone like that before," Arnav says, and Amoli jerks in surprise yet again because she's a fucking mess today, obviously, and drops her phone. She tries to catch it between her thighs and fails, and it falls unceremoniously on the tiled floor with a clatter.

She just stares at the device in horror for a few seconds, because she's almost too sure that she's going to find the screen broken when she checks.

"Uh," Arnav starts, looking between her and her phone a few times before he settles with a scoff of, "Wow. Discreet."

"Ugh, shut up." Amoli bends to pick up her phone, and sure enough, it's cracked from the top right corner like a spider web shooting across the entire screen. The screen comes alive when she taps on it, though. "God. Dammit."

Arnav raises his hands in surrender. "I was just pointing it out." Then he gestures at Amoli's phone and adds, "We both know how it'll go if you looked at your phone like that in front of Ma."

Amoli's breath seizes in her throat. "Shut up," she says, sharper this time. When Arnav just stares at her with raised eyebrows, despite the fact that the two of them are constantly at each other's throats and talking like this is nothing new, she lets her shoulders sag in defeat. "Just. Don't tell her."

His eyebrows go up even further. And when he keeps the tab and stylus aside, Amoli regrets opening her mouth at all. "Yah. Di. You're really seeing someone?"

"Oh, it's Di now that you're trying to get information out of me?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"Don't tell me what to do." Arnav opens his mouth to retaliate again, but then seems to decide against it when Amoli plops her head down on the dining table and sighs. "Now I need to get my phone fixed."

"I didn't think it would scare you that bad!" Arnav says defensively, and there's just enough touch of guilt in his voice to make the corners of Amoli's lips twitch up. But then he clears his throat and asks, "Who is it?" and the barely-there smile on her face vanishes.

She thinks of the words, No straight person ever says that shit unprompted, again. Tries to keep them in mind. Takes a deep breath to ready herself, but then lets it out just as fast and feels her chest deflate.

"I don't — I can't tell you that," she responds quietly.

"Ever?"

Amoli chuckles at the hint of a whine in his voice. It's times like this that she remembers that he's the youngest sibling in the house, no matter how grown-up he behaves sometimes.

She shakes her head. "Soon. I guess."

"Oh. Okay." He folds his arms across his chest and averts his eyes like being nice to his sister is an incredibly awkward feat for him, and adds, "I won't tell anyone."

➷

a/n

happy pride month to them, i guess 😕