Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Marías sang from Yuri’s phone, background noise while she got ready. She needed their songs to fill the silence that would have existed otherwise—anything to keep her thoughts away from the girl with the green eyes and perfect posture.

The two of them were going to watch a movie later, and no matter how much Yuri told herself she wasn’t going to think about it, she couldn’t help herself. The small, stupid voice in her head wondered if their hangout could be more than just a friendly outing. Did Monika even like girls like that? It felt like something had changed since the first day of senior year. And while the crazed stages of Yuri’s crush on Monika had passed long ago, she couldn’t help but notice the way Monika had been looking at her all week. Like her eyes had never been so clear. Like Yuri was the only thing in the world worth looking at. Or maybe that was just her projecting. Maybe all those years of unrequited longing had finally got the best of her.

Ever since Yuri joined the Literature Club back in tenth grade, she had never known a day when her heart didn’t jolt at the sight of Monika. It wasn’t necessarily a skittish jolt, like the one you’d get when someone jump-scared you, no. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of beauty. Awestruck by magnificence. Quiet and humble, but still show-stoppingly gorgeous. From then on, Monika had changed Yuri’s life, whether she was aware of it or not.

For the first time in her life, Yuri had a friend. A proper friend. Not just someone she could share stationery with in class, or sit with during lunch. Monika would talk to her outside of class, even when she was quiet or nonverbal. Monika didn’t mind sitting in the silence that came with her; Monika was comfortable in it when others weren’t, even if it stretched on longer than it used to.

But, of course, there were the other girls: Natsuki and Sayori. They were good to her too; they laughed together, cried together, and talked about poetry and life together. But not in the same way things were with Monika. Monika would come over in the dead of night if she felt like it. They’d lie on the floor of Yuri’s bedroom, not uttering a single word, and Yuri would fall asleep and wake up more refreshed than she had ever been since birth. Their hands would touch, and Yuri would wonder what it would feel like if more parts of them did, wonder how she’d feel if Monika touched her. Would Monika even be interested in touching a girl like that? Would she feel the same way Yuri did when she dreamt about it?

Yuri curled her lip at the sight of her reflection in the mirror. She had changed her outfit three times by now. Too casual. Too dressy. This one made her look like she was trying too hard, but at least the long-sleeved blouse was flattering. With an exasperated sigh, Yuri pulled on the skirt from her previous ‘too casual’ outfit, paired it with her sheer black tights, and settled. She spun herself away from the mirror before she could criticise herself further and packed her purse. Her perfume eyed her from the bedside table—the one for special occasions that she rarely used. It was expensive. It was lovely. Would Monika notice if she sprayed a little in the crooks of her neck?

Monika was already waiting in the cinema when Yuri arrived. She looked gorgeous, as always. She didn’t need to spend hours in front of a mirror deciding what to wear, or how much perfume was too much. An oversized brown leather jacket consumed her in just the right way, and she, too, wore a skirt. They were both early. The smile on Monika’s face grew into a toothy grin when she spotted her. Yuri couldn’t help but return it as Monika rushed towards her. They finally found each other in the bustle of the cinema crowd, and Monika pulled Yuri into a hug.

It wasn’t a casual squeeze, or a one-armed pat on the back, but the kind of hug that made Yuri feel like time had stopped for just them. Monika always hugged like this, like she wasn’t in a rush, like they were the only ones in the world that mattered. She tugged Yuri down a little—she always had to; Yuri was taller by just enough—and her chin brushed the same spot on Yuri’s shoulder it always did, that little hollow just beneath the collarbone. It was so familiar that Yuri’s body leaned in automatically, her arms finding Monika’s waist like muscle memory, her breath catching the way it always did when she got too close, too hopeful. Yuri could smell roses and clean laundry, and it was so sweet she could’ve sworn her mouth actually watered.

Monika laughed, clear, melodious. It always seemed perfectly timed. They pulled apart. “You smell incredible. New perfume?”

She noticed!

Yuri nodded, struggling to keep her smile from stretching too wide. “My dad gave it to me. I only wear it on special occasions—” 

She shouldn’t have said that. Monika would think she was weird for considering watching a movie with her friend a special occasion. What would she think if she—

“It’s lovely. Subtle, but it suits you,” Monika’s smile was warm. “I’m not surprised, you’ve always had an eye—well, nose —for elegant things.”

She knew .

Before Yuri could say anything else, Monika slipped her arm through hers and gently steered them to the ticket booth. She chatted on about how Yuri had to wear it more often and how she hoped the movie lived up to the hype. Yuri barely heard a word. Her heart was hammering away. The air-conditioned lobby did nothing to cool the flush creeping up her neck.

Yuri had never liked small talk. It felt clumsy in her mouth, like trying to dance with two left feet. Not pointless, just… rarely meaningful. But with Monika, it was different. God, it was always different. 

“So,” Monika nudged her lightly with an elbow, “did you get to finish that poem you were working on Tuesday? The one with the line about burning sugar? I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

Yuri blinked. She hadn’t even told Monika she’d written that line. But of course, she’d noticed. “I did, actually,”

“Yeah?” Monika clasped her hands together like she had been waiting for this. “Please tell me you’ll let me read it. I promise not to beg, but I will guilt-trip you.”

Yuri laughed—a quiet sound, soft as ever, but a laugh nevertheless. “Shut up. You always read my poems, even when I try to hide them.”

“Alright, alright,” Monika offered a sheepish smile, arms raised in mock surrender. “But can you blame me? Everything you write is just so… captivating! I don’t know how you do it.”

Silence envelops them again, but not really. The background noise—the buzz of excited moviegoers, corn popping in metal drums, the low fizz of soda machines—filled the space like a soft soundtrack.

“Can’t believe we’re finally seniors,” Monika said as they inched forward in line. Her voice had shifted, just slightly, but enough for Yuri to notice. It had that strange, wistful edge she only let out when she thought no one was paying too much attention.

“Yeah, we’ll be graduating before we even know it,” Yuri nodded, twiddling with a button on her cuff. “It’s… It’s nice that we’re gonna have club meetings again. Summer was kinda quiet, with everyone busy and all. I missed it.”

Monika smiled, half to herself. “Same. I’ve been craving that energy, you know? Everyone in the same room, ideas bouncing around the place, writing things that scare us a little.”

Yuri’s stomach fluttered.

“Oh, and I heard we’re getting a new member?” Monika tilted her head slightly. A strand of her bang shifted, and Yuri’s finger twitched to tuck it behind her ear. “A boy, right? That’ll be interesting.”

Yuri nodded. She tried not to think about how excited Monika sounded. Tried not to wish she’d sound like that about her. 

“We’ve never had a boy before,” she said softly.

Yuri didn’t know how to feel about that, and about everything really. There was excitement and fear and a handful of other confusing emotions. Then, there was her . Monika. A future she could see so clearly, yet so out of reach. Yuri knew what she wanted to do, knew what she wanted to study in university. And she knew a small (big) part of her wished that Monika would be by her side through it all. 

But what are dreams, if not a cruel reminder of everything reality isn’t?

-

“Yuri?” Monika’s voice brought her back to her senses, and the world began to refocus around her. Monika was staring, not out of concern, just watching . She had that gleam in her eyes, the same one that would appear when she analysed poetry. 

“Yes, sorry. I, uh—sorry, I didn’t—,” She stopped at the sight of Monika’s wide smile. God, she was gorgeous.

Monika was still smiling when she took her hand, calling over her shoulder while they moved. “You’ve got the tickets, right? The movie’s starting soon!” 

They weaved through the crowd, Monika leading with ease and certainty like she always did. Yuri trailed behind, murmuring apologies to anyone she brushed past. She couldn’t tell if her thundering heart was from the dirty looks strangers sent her or Monika’s fingers curled around hers. 

She would have followed her anywhere. Through cinema halls, across continents, into fire. Quiet, obedient, entranced. Yuri followed like a knight sworn to guard a queen she could never touch, a queen who never needed guarding. 

Chatter filled the cinema, buzzing in the air like white noise, whilst people waited for the movie to start. Yuri’s eyes darted around, her attention jumping from the man sniffling too loudly in front of her to the pair of kids racing up the walkway. The lights hadn’t dimmed yet, and she was beginning to regret not bringing a jacket.

“I can’t believe we both wore skirts to the cinema,” Monika chuckled from beside her. 

Yuri turned to face her, the rest of the world easily melting away as she decided to give the other girl her full attention. Amber hair and cheeky eyes were a refreshing break. 

“I—,” Yuri looked down at her lap as if seeing herself for the first time. 

Then: a tap. The lightest thing. On her knee. Casual. Yuri argued otherwise. A stroke of thunder. Crashing waves. How pathetic was she to have her stomach flip at the bare contact of skin? This was insanity. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Monika smirked, drawing her hand back. “It’s cute. Where’d you get it?”

Oh. Not a compliment for her. Just the skirt. 

“Thanks,” Yuri whispered, brushing her skirt like it would release her from the shackles of her sapphic thoughts. “Um, I thrifted it.”

“Well, then, you should take me out thrifting sometime,” Monika said, almost too casually. Like it was no big deal to ask for a map into Yuri’s favourite corners of the world.

Yuri blinked. She’d never taken anyone. Not even Natsuki or Sayori. But the way Monika said it, so soft and sure, not like a question but a promise, made her want to say yes before her nerves could stop her.

“Oh, I didn’t know you liked thrifting?”

Monika tilted her head. “Mhm, I don’t go a lot, but I like the hunt, I guess. Like, that moment you find something and you know it’s just meant for you.”

Yuri swallowed. “I—uh, I know how you feel,” 

“Well, there you go,” Monika’s grin returned. “We should go together,”

Yuri nodded. “Another hangout would be… nice.” 

Monika’s smile wavered for a second, like she hadn’t expected Yuri to agree so easily. Not like that. Not so openly. Then it came back, softer this time. Yuri wouldn’t have been able to catch it if she hadn’t been focusing all her attention on her.

“Yeah,” Monika said, fiddling with the popcorn bag, her gaze flicking away for just a second too long. “I guess it would,”

-

Monika’s words replayed like a broken record in Yuri’s head for the next hour. She couldn’t even bring herself to enjoy, let alone pay attention to the film. What did Monika mean? Was she asking her out? Yuri turned to carefully watch the woman sitting beside her. Monika seemed completely entranced, her focus unwavering as the dim glow of the theatre screen cast flickering lights across her face. She was leaning back, practically owning the seat with her limbs, whilst Yuri was as stiff as a wooden board, back straight and gripping her armrest a little too tightly. 

There was no way Monika was… asking her out .

Heck, this wasn’t even a date! It was a hangout. It was a completely normal, friendly hangout with Monika, whom she shared a platonic relationship. Keyword: Platonic . Yuri ignored the way her toes curled at the thought, ignored the thought itself that wished that they were more. 

Nothing was happening between them. 

Even though they were at the movies. 

Even though Monika had insisted on paying for her ticket and food.

Even though Monika had tapped her on the knee and told her she (her skirt) looked cute.

Even though she said they should go thrifting together.

Yuri shook her head, a blush crept up her neck like a rude fever. No . This wasn’t a date. It couldn’t be.

She almost jumped when she felt Monika’s shoulder press against hers.

“Hey,” Monika whispered. “You okay?” 

Even in the dark, Yuri could see it. The worry that flashed in her eyes, eyes that were usually so unshakeable. Something glossy, accentuated by the way Monika’s eyebrows furrowed. Yuri’s insides flipped and then flipped some more.

“I’m fine,” Yuri replied too quickly. 

Monika narrowed her eyes and hummed, unconvinced. She didn’t push, but she didn’t let it go either. Instead, she slowly lifted the armrest separating them with a soft click , and suddenly, two separate worlds merged into one. Yuri held her breath. Her mouth parted slightly in shock as Monika scooted closer. They were so close. So warm. Monika draped her arm over Yuri’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. But it wasn’t. Not to Yuri. Not when her heart was a wild animal locked in the cage of her ribs.

And then Monika’s fingers started moving. They drew nonsensical swirls along her arm, soft, absent-minded circles. She sighed like she didn’t even realise what she was doing. Like it wasn’t rewiring every single nerve in Yuri’s body.

“You looked cold,” Monika murmured, voice low, clearing her throat like she had only just realised the intimacy of it all. Then she leaned in, her lips grazing Yuri’s ear like an accident that wasn’t an accident at all. Her voice dropped even lower. “Are you cold?” 

Yuri would have frozen to death if it meant that Monika would be by her side. “Not—not anymore, thank you,”

“Good,” Monika smiled, that toothy grin. Too proud of herself. Too beautiful in the way her eyes creased.

Yuri was melting.

-

The movie ended in a blur. Mediocre at most. Classic. Average. Passionate kissing as a resolution. The characters were straight. Monika’s arm never left Yuri’s shoulders, and she could have sworn it twitched during the kiss scene. Or perhaps that was Yuri twitching. She couldn't stop imagining what it would look like if they were on the big screen instead. If they were the ones consuming each other's faces while dramatic music swelled in the background. 

Outside, the air nipped at Yuri’s skin. The pleasant coolness, now sharply cold, made Yuri shudder. Monika didn’t have to be told to take her jacket off and place it over Yuri’s shoulders. The scent hit first: roses, and then something deeper underneath. Something warmer.

“Won’t you get cold?” Yuri asked, her voice almost swallowed by a gust of wind.

“No, it’s alright,” Monika shrugged. “I was getting kind of warm anyway.”

Yuri didn’t believe her, not really. But the thought that Monika would rather be cold than see her uncomfortable made her toes curl inside her boots. They were silent after that, walking while their shoes cracked dry leaves and twigs beneath them, warm air blowing into faint clouds in front of their faces. Silence was always comfortable with Monika, but tonight, it felt heavy with everything unsaid.

Monika broke it first. “I always feel weird after movies, like I’m still half in their world.” A beat passed. There was a knowing look on her face. “How’d you like it?”

“It was… okay .”

“So it was boring,” Monika grinned. 

“No!” Yes . You know me too well . Yuri continued. “I was just… imagining myself in their positions. Sometimes, I like it better like that, you know? Like, how I’m still half in their world.” 

Monika was quiet for a second. Then: “You always do that when you read, too. Like, you get this little look on your face, and I can just tell you’re already gone.” 

Yuri blushed. It was beginning to get a little hot under the jacket. 

“If you like escaping so much,” Monika added, “maybe we should do this again sometime.”

And Yuri looked at her. Really looked. Light brown hair framed Monika like a halo, kisses of blush on her nose and cheeks. A part of Yuri wanted to believe that the pink wasn’t just from the cold. That, for Monika, maybe it was for something more. 

Yuri's eyes asked the questions she was too afraid to say out loud. Would it be weird if I said I liked you? 

“Yeah,” Yuri answered after a while. 

Monika smiled, eyes soft. Her voice dipped, lower than before. It wasn’t teasing or flirty, just… honest . A quiet invitation. “Just the two of us?”

Yuri’s heart skipped a beat. She refused to believe it. Refused to hope that there could be more between them because, what would she do if there really was? How would she act? She’s never had another girl reciprocate her feelings before. Could it really be possible that Monika did? Even if Monika had only meant it as a friendly gesture, Yuri vowed to enjoy every moment of it. She could love her like this, in her own way and while they might never become those characters who kiss in movie resolutions, at least they would have this. Whatever this was, it was enough. For now.

“Yeah… just the two of us.”

Chapter Text

A week had gone by since the day at the movies, time passing in a blur as Yuri’s mind dizzied her with possibilities of Monika. Was Monika really trying to ask her out? Could there be a chance she reciprocated her feelings? They hadn’t talked about what happened—if anything had happened at all. Did that day together mean nothing to her? God, it was all so confusing!  

Yuri had been quiet during the club meeting, more silent than usual. If the girls noticed, they hadn’t said anything about it. They were too wrapped up in the excitement of the new boy. 

While they entertained themselves with him, Yuri weighed the ‘pros’ and ‘cons’ in her head. To tell Monika, or not to tell Monika . Monika, who would glance at her, occasionally… often, from behind a book like she was the shy one . Green eyes checking to see if Yuri was ‘okay’, which she definitely wasn’t.  

It was after school hours, golden rays of sunset streaming through the windows painted a soft glow on the floor. The club meeting had long come to an end. Natsuki, Sayori, and the new boy (whose name had completely slipped Yuri’s mind, though it might have started with an ‘M’) had already left, leaving her and Monika alone in the empty classroom. 

Yuri busied herself by wiping down the blackboards. The repetitive motion, seeing the white chalk disappear by her hand, calmed her. Something she could control when the world felt like it was leaving her behind. By the sound of it, Monika was repositioning the chairs. Occasionally, they’d scraped softly against the floor, like Monika was doing everything in her power to keep the room as silent as possible. 

Was she trying to torture her? 

Yuri had never heard the classroom so quiet before, even if they were packing up. They’d always be laughing about something stupid Natsuki said, or arguing about the connotations of a line in a poem. Today, Yuri could hear the clock tick away on the wall. It was taunting her. A countdown. She’d have to come clean eventually. She would not leave today and let her mind torture her with the question of ‘what if?’ for another moment. 

The end of the day crept closer, and Yuri was running out of time. The chairs were already stacked, the room cleaned, but Monika hadn’t left. Maybe some part of her already knew what Yuri was going to say, maybe that’s why she stayed. Or maybe Yuri was completely wrong. Still, it felt like neither of them wanted to leave. And for the first time, that felt okay. Maybe staying a little longer meant something.

Yuri stepped back, looking at the empty chalkboard in front of her. If she could, she’d spill out the contents of her mind onto it. It would be chaos—a quiet calamity. But if you looked close enough, you’d see a girl with green eyes and perfect posture through it all. 

“Yuri?” Monika was leaning against one of the tables, arms crossed. “I—are you okay?” 

Yuri’s stomach flipped. It was as if she were somewhere up high, where the floor felt like it was swaying beneath her feet. She had zoned out. Monika couldn’t have possibly known of the war that waged within her, but the look in her eyes, the care she had seen too many times to count, made Yuri think otherwise.

In heavy silences like these, Yuri often wondered what it would feel like if the world—and the universe as humanity knew it—collapsed in on itself and came crashing down onto her. Cosmic explosions of energy. The beauty of expanding constellations unravelling into nothingness. Visual poetry. Sonnets and symphonies that the eyes could see . It would be beautiful, yes, but how would it feel?

If it felt anything like trying to confess to Monika, then she’d rather the gods take her now than spend another waking moment pondering the end of the world. 

The words sat right there, hesitant, teetering on the tip of her tongue. They swirled in circles in her mouth, gnawing to sink back down her throat, to return to a slumber deep in her voice box. Why couldn’t she just speak, for heaven’s sake? 

Monika’s eyes blinked with patience, and she stepped a little closer. She held a gentle understanding that warmed Yuri all over, despite the cold room.

“Yuri?” Monika asked again—not to coax, not to rush. She was curious, sure, but she was Yuri’s best friend first. Yuri knew she could take her time—hell, she could take fifty years, and Monika would still wait.

But Yuri couldn’t do it. 

She couldn’t say it. 

She wanted to— so badly —so why couldn’t she? 

Why—?

The sentence tumbled out in a barely audible whisper, a string of trembling syllables. “I… I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately,” Yuri murmured. She couldn’t look at her, fiddling with the edge of her skirt instead. She caught a glimpse of Monika’s shoes in the corner of her eye. “We’re graduating soon, and I didn’t want to leave without telling you. I know I overthink things, and I get nervous, and I can be so oblivious sometimes—gosh, this is probably already more complicated than it needs to be—but…” She swallowed the urge to run away, letting the feelings in her heart root her down. “I—I like you, Monika. Not just as a friend. And I know you probably don’t like me back—and that’s okay—I just—I wanted you to know.”

Yuri didn’t look up. She couldn’t . Her words echoed around the room, a bullet fired, ricocheting against metal walls. She waited for it to bite her back, pierce her heart worse than any silence that meant rejection. Had she ruined everything? Was Monika trying to find a way to let her down gently?

Usually, she could relish in the silence that existed between them. She couldn’t do it now. It stretched between them. Palpable. Sticky and sour in the back of her throat. Raw. It was too much, despite there not being anything at all. 

Yuri’s breath hitched. Monika reached for her hand, using the other to tilt her chin upward. Eyes wide, Yuri complied, taking her in like it was the first time. 

Green eyes. A face framed by light brown hair. She was back in tenth grade again, back in the body of the girl who had fallen in love with the President of the Literature Club.

Monika’s thumb, feather light but somehow electric, left a buzz below Yuri’s chin. It rushed down the length of her neck when she let go, humming warm and cosy through her body. 

With fingers interlaced, Monika’s face twitched into a grin, as if she was unsure of letting herself smile. As if she were unsure the moment actually happened. And God, was it torture. A beat passed. Eternity. She was properly smiling now, and they were still holding hands. There was that familiar glint in her eye, something unreadable that made Yuri’s heart skip a beat or two. She loved that look. Fearless. Brave. Comfortable. Yuri would’ve been satisfied no matter what Monika said, as long as she looked at her like that. 

“You… like me ?” Monika asked, her voice hushed, careful, as if any louder and they’d both wake up from a dream. Her eyes didn’t leave Yuri’s, not for a second.

Yuri bit her bottom lip, her gaze falling to their joined hands. Monika’s hands were warm, her fingernails immaculate, but Yuri could feel the faintest ridges of calluses on her fingertips. Yuri knew Monika played the piano despite her not telling many people. She had dreams of Monika playing for her.

“Please don’t make me say it again,” Yuri muttered.

Monika let out a quiet laugh, not teasing or disbelieving. Gentle .

“You wanna know a secret?” she murmured, tugging Yuri just a little closer. 

Yuri blinked, startled by how near she suddenly was. She could count each individual eyelash if she had the time, trace faint freckles across Monika’s fair skin like an astronomer connecting constellations. The scent of sweet roses enveloped her, roses and something else. Something wild. Untamed. 

Monika reached up, tucked a lock of black hair behind Yuri’s ear like it was the most natural thing to do. Then, she leaned in, soft lips brushing over Yuri’s ear, warm breath against her skin. The butterflies in Yuri’s stomach stirred, wide awake. “I…” Monika paused, and God, it was torture. Sweet, delectable torture. Yuri braced herself, eyes shut. Monika let out a sigh, a surrender—a step off the edge of the world. 

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” she said, breathless. Then softer, “I didn’t think I’d ever get to tell you,”

Yuri’s eyes snapped open, and the world spun. Incomprehensible forces pulled her in every direction in all three dimensions, all at once. 

Monika pulled back slightly, just enough for Yuri to see the smile playing on her lips. It was soft, radiant, almost shy, something Yuri had rarely seen on her confident Monika. 

Yuri struggled to find a reply amidst the sound of Monika’s laughter. It was half nerves and disbelief, the rest, something lighter that lifted her soul off her feet.

And it was as if someone had nudged her back to reality because Yuri was moving. Faster than she could register what she was doing, because the butterflies were in control now. They beat in her stomach, flurried out of her mouth… into Monika’s.

She kissed her. 

Yuri kissed her.

Oh god, she had actually kissed her.

Their first connection was chaste. A soft, sugary press of lips. It was better than the daydreams. Better than the sapphic novels she secretly devoured during Literature Club meetings. Better than anything she'd dared imagine when she was alone in bed, breathless, wondering.

It was everything she didn’t know she could dream of.

Monika . Yuri hadn’t realised she hummed her name against her lips. 

When their lips broke apart, Yuri had not realised her lips were trembling, not in recoil but in reverence . She blinked, dazed. Her chest heaved, her breath tangled in Monika’s lungs. Monika was still smiling—that stupid, gorgeous smile—and that’s when panic sparked in her chest.

Yuri touched her own lips, still trembling beneath her fingertips. They buzzed, hot and moist from Monika’s. Yuri thought about the movie they had watched together last weekend. This was so, so much better. And she freaked out.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me, I just—,”

Monika rolled her eyes. 

Oh my god. Did she hate it—?

“God, you’re adorable,” Monika murmured, cupping Yuri’s cheek. Her heart sang. “Now shut up and come back here.” 

Yuri had been chaste, but Monika— fuck , Monika was life . Their lips danced, hunger in the heat of her palms, desire as her fingers ran through slick black hair. Words couldn’t describe what Yuri felt—it was ineffable. They were colliding, colliding in the way meteors do in asteroid belts, chipping fragments of soul into deep space. She was flying through the cosmos into her.

One of Monika’s hands slid down to the small of Yuri’s back, drawing them even closer than they already were. The other danced around her neck, teasing, touching. Could she feel Yuri’s pulse, desperate and wild beneath her skin? Monika moved like they had been kissing their entire lives, like she already knew where to press to make Yuri bend and twist and squirm for her.

If ambrosia existed, Yuri was certain it would taste like her. Monika was addicting. And for a brief, terrifying second, Yuri wondered if confessing had been a mistake—because what the hell was she supposed to do now that she’d tasted the food of the gods?

There was the world, but it was just Monika . Monika, and the breathless way she pulled away—hands tangled in Yuri’s silky hair, chest rising and falling, lips parted, tongue peeking out with the tease of more. 

A glaze shimmered in her eyes, and Yuri’s lips tingled with want. 

They stood in each other’s silence, letting the sounds of rising and falling breaths, racing hearts, and the ticking clock fill the air around them. Yuri let Monika hold her, hands resting lightly at her waist, bodies fused together.

“You… you kissed me,” Yuri whispered, pulling away just enough to see Monika’s face. It was more of a statement than a question. They were still wrapped in each other’s arms, standing like two pieces of a puzzle, so perfectly aligned.

Monika smiled softly, knowing. “You started it,” she teased, then bit her lip. The butterflies in Yuri’s stomach fluttered back to life. Monika’s hands brushed gentle circles on Yuri’s hips. “But I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Yuri could think of a thousand things she would wait a thousand years to do with Monika. 

“What… hang out at school after hours?” She managed.

Monika laughed under her breath and gave Yuri a playful squeeze. “I meant this. Holding you. Kissing you. Telling you how much I like you.” She paused, gaze warm. “I would’ve told you eventually. But you beat me to it.”

That look in her eyes, the one Monika usually gave Yuri when Yuri did something brave, when she was proud of her, made her puff up.

It was like she’d exhaled something heavy—something she’d carried for a long time. Monika looked lighter, too. Happier. Freer. Yuri let a smile stretch across her face. 

“I know I’ve already said it,” Monika murmured, “but I’ve liked you for a long time.”

Yuri flushed, heat spreading down her neck. She turned away instinctively, but Monika was already guiding her chin back, gently.

“Hey. Look at me,” 

Yuri did. She looked—and there was that feeling again. 

Today, she could fly . 

“I know you don’t believe me. I can see it. But have you seen yourself?” Monika’s thumb lingered just under her jaw, grounding. Ever electric. “You’re brilliant. You’re passionate. You care so deeply. And you’re—” Her voice dipped. “You’re beautiful, Yuri. Take my word for it until you can take your own. I’ll remind you every day if I have to.”

She paused. The next words came smaller, careful.

“If you’ll let me.”

Something in Yuri cracked open. The part of her that always prepared for disappointment, for rejection. Monika shattered it like glass. The world didn’t seem so scary anymore. Not when Monika loved her.

“Thank you,” Yuri breathed. It had never felt so easy.

Yuri wrapped her arms around Monika’s neck and pulled her close, burying herself in the safety of her warmth.

“Thank you so much,” she whispered.

Monika hugged her back, arms falling perfectly against her curves. “Hey,” she murmured, lips near her ear. “I’m with you, Yuri. Always.”

Chapter Text

Sizzling, bubbling, this thing I cannot conceal.

It simmers in hues of copper and bronze, encapsulates into an aureate passion -

where the structures of etiquette and exteriors are hollowed out,

and what remains is the skeleton which once hid this concoction.

Further and further, any sense of order is quickly forgotten,

decomposing upon our very own eyes.

This is the moment where the sugar transforms

to take over my senses of logic and morality,

and soon after, the lingerings of caramel are forgotten too,

only remnants of obsidian testify its late existence;

bitter and indigestible, yet that is okay, for no one

needs to understand this but you and me.

The only consistent, that burning passion, lingers in

every state in which the sugar took - denial, doubts, deprecation,

dedication, desire, devotion - to finally encapsulate a final

potent message:

I love you.

Chapter Text

There was always something comforting about the rain. 

The minuscule droplets of water pattering against rooftops, roads, and umbrellas in the thousands. The sound was all-encompassing, yet gentle. Constant, but not endless. To Yuri, it felt like a weighted blanket over the world, the arms of a lover hung reassuringly on one’s shoulder.

When she died, she hoped to come back as rain. 

Yuri folded her umbrella, shaking off the excess water before sliding it into a stand by the door. The cafe’s warmth kissed her cheeks the moment she stepped inside. 

Monika had recommended the place. “Somewhere cute and quaint,” she had said. “Not too well-known.”

It had bookshelves for walls, the permanent scent of roasted coffee beans danced in the air, potted plants, vines, and leaves stretched up towards a skylight above the counter. A single barista busied herself behind the counter, skillfully at peace. The few customers that were there nursed warm drinks in their cosy sanctuaries while soft jazz melted through hidden speakers. Yuri settled in one of the corners—a little nook of plush pillows and a tiny succulent on the table to keep her company.

It had been a little over a week since the events in the clubroom.

Since that kiss.

It still had her melting whenever she thought about it.

They had made plans for the date as they walked home after—a real date, Monika had said. Not like their hangout at the cinema. It would be different. It already was.

And yet, Yuri couldn’t help the thoughts that continued to churn inside her. Like the rain battering against the world was a manifestation of her insides. She’ll come, she’ll be here , Yuri told herself for the seventh time. Of course she will . 

—

The soft creak of the door announcing the arrival of a new customer pulled Yuri from her spiral. It was Monika. Her stomach flipped when she saw her, rain-slick hair catching the light like silk. She was already smiling.

Yuri’s gaze followed her while she slid into the seat opposite her, setting her bag down. Monika leaned forward like everything she had ever needed to live existed right there, between them. 

There was something openly different in the way Monika looked at her now.

“You look at me differently,” Yuri said before she could stop herself, voice barely above a whisper, any louder and maybe she’d wake up from a dream. 

Under the table, their knees touched, and Yuri was consumed by the slight warmth of her. The quiet exchange of their energies. Did Monika feel it too? If she did, she wasn’t pulling away. 

Monika tilted her head, a strand of her fringe brushing against her forehead. “What do you mean?” Her voice was silk and nectar, and Yuri wanted to taste . 

“You… you never used to look at me like—like this ,” Like she meant something. Like she was more than just her friend. 

Monika laughed softly, a gentle sound fitting for the peaceful atmosphere of the coffee shop. She sighed, and a smile settled on her lips. “I’ve always looked at you differently, Yuri. You just never noticed.”

Yuri blinked. “I—what?” 

“I didn’t let you,” Monika said simply, leaning her chin on her hand. “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

Yuri pressed her lips together, letting a moment of silence flutter between them. Something in her chest cracked open, an old, fragile ache she recognised from her long-lost days of yearning. 

It was warm now. 

“You alright, Yuri?” Monika asked, eyes softening.

“—No… yeah . Um, sorry, it’s just…” Yuri turned away. She watched droplets of rain trickle down the window to distract herself, to prolong the moment, to avoid those words on her lips she knew she’d say anyway because Monika had that effect on her. She was making a fool of herself again.

“It’s just?” Monika echoed her words, so soft it felt like a caress on her cheeks.

Yuri swallowed, and the words tumbled out, her confession as silent as a gust of wind. It was easier when she didn’t look at her. “It’s just… It’s just what if one day, I look into your eyes and, and it’s different? I know this is literally our first date, but I’m already… addicted to the way you look at me, Monika. What if I can’t find that look anymore—?”

Yuri felt the touch of Monika’s cool fingers on her chin, leading her face back towards her. What if what she feared had happened when barely anything had even started? Her breath hitched when she saw the look on Monika’s face.

Monika’s eyelashes fluttered with wonder, irises glinting with adoration. There was no way she didn’t know what she was doing to her—how she made Yuri feel . How her insides were all tingly like the universe was igniting from her very core, and she was the reason why.

Monika’s eyes danced all over Yuri’s face, but they returned to the sight of her eyes like it was home. 

Yuri snapped her mouth shut like the words burned her, bitter hot tea scalding plush flesh. Regret tasted that way, felt that way. Admitting things like that wasn’t something she was meant to do on a first date; it wasn’t anything anyone was supposed to do. 

God . How could she not overthink when it was just so easy ?

“Oh, Yuri,” Monika said, voice as soft as a prayer. Yuri held on to her words reverently, like they were her lifeline. “I can’t promise you things won’t change. But, this look in my eyes—it’s proof of how I feel about you. Let that be enough. Let me be enough, okay?”

—

It should have been perfect. It was perfect, until the barista started flirting. 

Yuri had always wondered what it felt like to be one of those predators on wildlife documentaries when they were hunting. How their eyes stayed steady, never straying from their prey. Watching every movement. Every twitch. Every subtle shift in the air.

Now, Yuri wasn’t like that… not exactly. She wasn’t as obsessive, or consumed, or enamoured (fuck, maybe she was). But watching the barista talk to Monika felt just a little too much like it.

The barista, Yuri decided after spending three seconds of her life studying her—three seconds too many—was up to no good. She was staring, far more than was appropriate for an average barista. Batting her eyelashes and puckering her lips more times than any café etiquette handbook would allow. Tilting her head in that flirty, inquisitive way Yuri had seen in movies.

Yuri didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Not when the girl across from her was Monika. And Monika was supposed to be laughing and smiling at her .

Yuri’s chest tightened. 

The barista was going on about something, talking Monika’s ear off, giggling and laughing, and suddenly Yuri was standing before she even realised she’d moved.

She walked over before she had time to remind herself that there were nicer, more civilised ways to tell someone to stop flirting with her date so they could just get their coffee, for heaven’s sake.

There wasn’t even a queue. The café was surprisingly quiet for a Sunday morning, but apparently, that gave the barista an excuse to slack off and make small talk… well. Maybe it wasn’t just small talk. Maybe, if Yuri were the barista and Monika had been the one buying coffee, she’d do the exact same thing. But that wasn’t the case. And Yuri hated to admit it, but she was jealous .

The barista only acknowledged her when Monika turned to look. There was something behind her eyes again. Yuri pegged it for amusement. 

Monika tilted her head expectantly, like she had been waiting for Yuri to come up to them, like she had predicted it, like she had wanted her to all along. 

“Um, hi?” Yuri swallowed. It came out more like a question than a greeting—measly, pathetic, an announcement of her presence more than anything else.

If the epitome of the world’s most passive-aggressive ‘fuck off’ were to manifest in the face of a human being, it would be the look the barista was giving her. 

“Yes, sorry ,” The barista smiled—she was not sorry. There was a tiny gem on her canine. It glinted in the light when she spoke. “Can I get you anything?”

Gosh, why did she have to be cool?  

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Yuri shook her head, stepping just close enough that her shoulder brushed Monika’s. “But I noticed she paid, so, um, aren’t you supposed to be making our drinks now?” 

Her tone was polite. Firm. Perfectly reasonable.

And yet regret settled like a snake in the pit of Yuri’s stomach, coiling tight and cold. Torturous, in the worst way. Trying to warm itself somewhere uninvited. 

She felt like a bitch.

Monika’s lips curved into the tiniest, smug smile. She leaned in, close enough that Yuri caught the faint trace of her perfume, and whispered, “You’re so cute,”

Yuri… no longer felt like a bitch.

Before she could register another thought in her head, Monika pressed her lips softly—so fucking softly—against the corner of Yuri’s mouth. It wasn’t quite a kiss, nowhere near the one they shared at the clubroom, but it was enough .

Enough to leave the barista frozen. 

When Yuri turned back, the girl’s back was already to them, suddenly very busy with their drinks. A strange, warm surge of satisfaction pulsed through Yuri’s chest.

“That’ll be to-go, actually,” Yuri managed, her voice steadier than she felt, tugging Monika back to their little nook in the corner. 

Yuri’s head raced with senseless thoughts, the air felt heavier, the room hotter, and the bookcases felt like they were caving in on her. She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror by the counter: red tainting her cheeks, biting her ears, bleeding down her neck—

“You don’t like it when people flirt with me, do you?” Monika asked, maddeningly calm once they’d settled back into their cushions. Yuri wondered how she could do it, how she could kiss girls so easily without the world melting around her?

Yuri blinked. “I… no, I don’t,”

Her voice was quiet, but her cheeks managed to burn hotter anyway.

“It’s rare to see this side of you,” Monika smiled. 

Yuri groaned softly, cringing into herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude—I just… I guess I just wanted to be the one talking with you like that. Smiling the way she smiled, like it wasn’t her first time flirting with a girl,” Yuri snapped her mouth shut. 

The last sentence slipped out before she could stop it. God. That was supposed to stay in her head. 

She risked a glance toward Monika.

The girl was staring at her, cheeks faintly flushed, lips parted.

Yuri wanted to kiss her so much.

She bit her lip, voice soft. “I’ve messed everything up, haven’t I?”

“No.” Monika was smirking now. “You haven’t, Yuri.”

“I don’t know how to act in front of girls I like,” Yuri confessed, the words tumbling over themselves. “I don’t know how to flirt like that stupid barista. I don’t—”

Monika stopped her before she could say any more, leaning in. “You know how to act in front of me, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but… that was when we were just friends!”

“So?” Monika chuckled, resting her cheek against her palm, entirely unbothered. Her gaze dipped briefly, deliberately , to Yuri’s lips. “Didn’t you know?”

Her voice softened into something dangerously sweet, like a challenge. “The best kind of friends,” she said, “are the ones that kiss.”

—

Months Later

There was something different about the reflection that stared back at her.

Standing in front of her dorm mirror, Yuri barely recognised herself sometimes. She didn’t look any different than she had since graduating high school, but there was something… something she couldn’t quite place. She knew enough to know that she had changed, that she was no longer as shy as she once was, no longer stumbling over words or hesitating to share her thoughts.

Though she wasn’t any more outspoken than she had been a few years ago, her confidence had certainly grown. It was quiet (of course it was), not boisterous or arrogant like she’d seen in some of her classmates. Yuri moved silently, like wind winding through an open field, a thousand blades of grass curving gently in her wake.

A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts, and Monika slipped in without waiting for an invitation. Yuri had expected nothing less from her girlfriend.

“Hey, stranger,” Monika hummed, skipping happily toward her as the door clicked shut behind her.

Yuri met her halfway, wrapping her in an embrace so tight it lifted her clean off her feet. Monika laughed, breathless, as Yuri spun her once, twice, before setting her down onto the beanbag strewn with fuzzy blankets. They collapsed together, legs tangled, foreheads brushing.

“Have I changed, Moni?” Yuri asked softly.

Monika searched Yuri’s eyes, searching for something behind her gleaming irises. She smiled, finding whatever it was she was looking for.

“You have,” Monika said, brushing a strand of black hair behind Yuri’s ear. “You like telling me how I’m ‘yours’ now. And whispering how you want me all to yourself so no one else can hear.” Her smile widened, playful and knowing. “You didn’t do that in the beginning, and god, it was so sexy when you started to.”

“Sexy?” Yuri blinked, flushing.

Monika’s laugh vibrated against her skin. “God, you drive me crazy, Yuri.”

Yuri smiled faintly, lowering her face into the crook of Monika’s neck and inhaling the sweet, floral notes of her perfume. Monika let out the softest whimper when Yuri’s nose brushed just under her ear. She wrapped her arms tighter around Yuri’s shoulders, hooked her legs around her hips, and rolled them both onto the floor.

It didn’t take long for Yuri’s lips to find Monika’s neck, kissing devotion into her skin. Her thigh shifted instinctively between Monika’s hips, and Monika’s soft sigh spilled into the air, betraying the tension coiling in her stomach—

And then Yuri’s phone rang.

The obnoxious Apple ringtone sliced the moment clean in half.

Monika groaned, throwing her head back with a frustrated huff. “Who the fuck is calling you at eleven at night?”

Yuri couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Monika beneath her:  flushed and pouty, lips slightly puffed. She reached blindly for her phone until her fingers brushed against it.

“Sayori,” Yuri murmured.

Chapter Text

Yuri shifted on her feet, moving closer to Monika as she rang the doorbell one more time. They had arrived at Sayori and Natsuki’s dinner party together, but Yuri had never felt so far away from her. 

When Yuri pulled her hand back, the edge of her arm brushed against Monika’s. The jolt made her twitch like she’d been shocked with electricity. Usually, they’d lean into each other, drawn like magnets to connect, but neither moved. No arm slung over a shoulder. No hand slipping to a waist. Nothing.

Monika was a statue. Only the rise and fall of her chest proved she was alive. Even her breaths were quiet, shallow, as if she didn’t want Yuri to hear them, and it choked her.

Yuri clutched the bottle of sweet red wine tightly in her clammy palms, fingers wrapped around the neck until her knuckles whitened. She didn’t know what she feared more: Monika hating her for pushing her away again, or dropping the expensive bottle on the floor.

A bead of condensation slid down her finger, like cold sweat trailing her temple. Her temple—where Monika had kissed her so reverently last night.

Goosebumps prickled her skin. She still burned where Monika’s hands had been, as if her body refused to forget last night, even when her mind tried. She tried not to think about Monika’s mouth—hot, desperate against her own, the scrape of teeth, the hitch of breath, the unfulfilled promise of more.

Yuri risked a glance at her. Monika’s lips were pressed into a thin line, arms crossed under her chest. If she noticed Yuri looking, she didn’t show it.

Yuri had pulled away first. And instantly wished she hadn’t. 

The look on Monika’s face had broken her heart. Her lips, still slightly parted, the ghost of hope still lingering for something Yuri couldn’t give—at least not that night.

“I—damn it—I’m sorry, Moni,” Yuri sighed, dragging her hands down her face.

But Monika was already moving away, shaking her head to dismiss the apology as she pulled her shirt back over her bare shoulders.

Yuri hated pushing her away. Hated the look of rejection on Monika’s face, the way it whispered unwanted. It wasn’t true—God, it wasn’t—but she just… wasn’t ready? Not for what Monika wanted. Even if she wanted it just as much.

At least that was what Yuri told herself. 

Silently, where no one else could hear, she admitted the truth. 

She was scared.

She thought she’d grown out of incompetence, thought she was supposed to be confident now. But when it came to sex, she was still inexperienced. Maybe useless.

Monika expected something she wasn’t sure she could give. She had only ever known how to please herself—and even then, she never felt like she enjoyed it.

Maybe she just didn’t know how.

The warmth of Monika’s palm on her cheek startled her. She looked up. Monika was smiling, but there was no crinkle at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s alright, Yuri—”

“No.” Yuri huffed, catching Monika’s hand and gripping it tight, like she might disappear if she didn’t. “No, you deserve more, Monika. More than this. More than kissing that doesn’t go anywhere. I don’t know why—I’m sorry—I wish—” Her breath shook.

God, was this what performance anxiety felt like?

Monika silenced her with a kiss. A gentle press of lips, lingering, warm, long enough to muffle the storm that waged through her mind. When she pulled back, she leaned her forehead against Yuri’s. Their breaths lingered in each other’s lungs, souls melting in the air between them. 

Monika smiled, a small, patient thing. “I deserve you.”

Yuri opened her mouth to protest—something stupid, no doubt—but Monika kissed her again.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready now,” she whispered when they parted. “It’s okay if you’re not ready tomorrow. Or in two weeks. Or a year. Even if you’re never ready. I’ll be fine with just kissing for now. And if I’m not, we’ll talk about it again. We’ll communicate. We’re not going to punish ourselves for not… having sex. We’re not going to blame each other or ourselves. Okay?”

Yuri swallowed thickly, guilt burning the back of her throat like acid. She had been overthinking again. God, she had told herself so many times that she’d stop— Monika wasn’t angry. She never had been.

And then Monika looked at her, really looked at her, and Yuri’s chest ached. She was so beautiful. Like the sudden break of sunset in a sky that had been gloomy all day. A breath of fresh air. Infinite spring.

“What?” Monika teased softly, catching her staring. When Yuri didn’t answer, she sighed. “You don’t have to look so worried.”

It was unfair, Yuri thought. Unfair to look like that, to sound like that. The thought that she had never tasted her before tonight seemed suddenly profane, sacrilegious even. God, she was so stupid.

Heat flushed through her, and Yuri ducked her head, staring at the fascinating floor as if it could smother the image of pleasuring Monika that blazed across her mind. They were about to eat dinner with friends, for heaven’s sake, and she chose now to fantasise about what she hadn’t had the nerve to do last night?

She didn’t deserve Monika at all. 

“I’m sorry, Moni,” she muttered, eyeing the door. Why was it taking so long for someone to let them in? Maybe the sex gods wanted her to suffer for not eating out her excruciatingly breathtaking girlfriend. 

Stupid, stupid her.  

—

Two, three or how many hours later, when the main course of dinner had long passed and it was time for dessert, Yuri was still thinking of Monika. She yearned for her, burned and thirsted, despite being seated right beside her. God, it felt like high school all over again. 

The kitchen was crowded. Sayori, Natsuki and some of the other guests were hovering over an elaborate cherry pie in the oven. There were only a few people still seated at the dining table, couples separated into their own intimate conversations. 

Monika sat beside Yuri, silent, her gaze fixed on her wine glass. Yuri hadn’t said much since dinner began. Words felt dangerous. She feared that whatever came out of her mouth would be something she’d regret or something completely pathetic, so she stayed quiet, watching Monika laugh and chat with everyone else. 

Sometimes, Monika’s eyes drifted back to her. Brief, sharp glances, like she was checking to see that Yuri was still there. Her gaze would wander over Yuri's face, linger on her lips, like she was kissing her without touching.

Monika was giving her space—holding back—because Yuri had asked for it. But now, every time those green eyes found hers, warmth pooled in Yuri’s stomach until it ached, sweet and bubbling like the cherry pie baking in the oven. 

Then, Monika’s hand.

Her fingers brushed Yuri’s thigh under the table. Barely anything. Almost nothing. But Yuri felt it everywhere, like lightning and magic beneath her skin. 

She turned to face Monika questioningly, but the woman paid her no mind. Her fluttering touch rose higher on Yuri’s thigh while she brought her wine glass to her lips, taking a sip of the rich red.

Yuri watched the way her throat gulped down the drink, her skin pulsed slightly, and the way her body oil glimmered on her collar when it caught the light. And god how she wanted. 

—

By late evening, the party had softened into a cosy, casual kind of chaos. People were giddy on full tummies, their voices tipsy from the wine. Yuri found odd comfort in the clutter of people. It allowed her to easily blend into the background. She could coexist with the house music, with the clatter of cutlery being put away, the hum of laughter and conversation. 

Natsuki had made too much food again, but that only meant Sayori would make sure everyone took a tupperware of leftovers home. 

Monika was across the room, the Sun in a solar system that orbited devotedly around her. She was lounging in laughter and conversation, all while her silk dress clung to her curves like honey and lamplight kissed her skin. She was magnetic. And Yuri was almost jealous that she couldn’t be the light that got to illuminate her body.

Yuri was trying to play it cool, to be nonchalant or whatever the fuck she was doing. But she was a literature student, and yearning was the only thing she had ever known better apart from the beginning of Pride and Prejudice. So, focusing on her wine glass turned out to be a spectacular failure, especially when the red reminded her of Monika’s lipstick—made her wonder how it would look smudged against her lips, or if she would taste bittersweet like the ageing grapes. 

It had been occurring every few minutes, seconds now, always brief, always scorching. Monika was sliding her gaze back to Yuri like a dare. Come closer. Touch me. And God, how she terribly wanted to. 

“Yuri?” 

She barely heard her name being called. Yuri’s eyes were trained on Monika, watching her like a robot that’d been programmed to do nothing else, like a guard dog who had never known another owner. 

So she didn’t look away, not yet, because Monika was smiling. Laughing. Head tilted back, mouth curved into that way it did when magic rang from her chest like another world existed within her. Maybe it did. Yuri regretted not catching a glimpse when she had the chance—not seizing the opportunity when it was there, being offered right to her. 

“Yuri!”

She blinked and tore herself away. “Sorry—I’m sorry—what?”

Sayori was laughing, leaning against the dining table. She nodded between her and Monika. “What is up with you two?” Sayori’s eyes twinkled with their usual curiosity. Seems it had followed her all the way from high school into college. “You look… I dunno… confused? But like, still utterly bewitched by her, body and soul,”

Natsuki groaned from behind her. “God, you need to stop quoting Pride and Prejudice just because we watched it last night—” she turned to Yuri, “—she’s been doing this all day!”

“I—” Yuri’s voice cracked. Leave it to Sayori to blatantly pick apart people’s relationship struggles like they were in couples therapy. Surely they weren’t that obvious. “It’s—we’re—it’s complicated. I don’t know. Never mind.”

Natsuki flopped into a chair, practically inhaling the pink-frosted cupcake she held in her hand. She spoke with her mouth full, but Yuri was used to deciphering what she said. 

“You know what you two need?” Natsuki chirped, giving her a once-over. While she chewed, Sayori wiped a smudge of frosting from the corner of her mouth. She swallowed. “Thanks—anyways, you two need to fuck.” 

Yuri choked on air. “What?” She coughed out, eyes wide. The blush suffocated her quickly after. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Natsuki smirked, folding up the empty cupcake wrapper. “You two haven’t done it yet, have you?”

“That’s—that’s none of your business.”

“Of course it is!” Sayori cut in, waving her arms exasperatedly. Yuri wished she could debate how it was really not, but she knew Sayori would never listen. The woman continued. “We’re your friends! We care about you. And you both obviously need to let loose. You both seem… very tense.”

Yuri laughed like it would somehow make the bubbling tension in her stomach dissipate. It didn’t. Instead, she shook her head. “I don’t think we should be discussing my sex life at the dinner table… with other people around,”

They were the only people in the dining room.

Natsuki shrugged. “If you say so, babe.” She patted Yuri’s shoulder on her way to grab another cupcake. “But seriously. You two need to fuck. It’s free therapy.”

“Thanks,” Yuri muttered.

Sayori stayed behind, lowering her voice. There was a soft smile on her face. “Natsuki’s blunt, but she’s right about one thing. We care.”

Yuri searched Sayori’s eyes; the look of concern was genuine, and she hadn’t expected anything less from her close friend. Yuri could hear the sweet sound of Monika’s laughter from the living room. It reverberated against the walls gently, like a quiet hum below the sounds of the universe. 

“Are you and Monika okay?”

Yuri sighed, and the words spilt out. She told Sayori everything.

Silence hung until Sayori finally smiled again, sad but knowing. “Yuri… you can’t overthink things like this, and I know—I know—it’s so much easier said than done, but it’s the truth. It’s not just your responsibility. It’s Monika’s too. Let her have that. I’m not saying you’re in control of everything, I’m saying you don’t have to be. Don’t let your fear and doubt keep you from her.”

Yuri chewed on her bottom lip. Her throat burned, and her eyes prickled with that knowing feeling, that prelude for tears. It felt like fog lifting from her eyes, like the cords and coils that wrapped around her heart were loosening. 

“I think…” Yuri’s lips fought the words, like her mind refused to let the realisation out of her. But she forced them out. She needed to say this aloud, even if it meant whispering it like they were secrets from the deepest part of her soul. “I think I want to have sex… with Monika,”

Sayori nodded, slow, supportive. Pride shone through her eyes. Warmth unfurled in Yuri’s chest. It was nice to see her friend happy for her, happy for her happiness. 

“Then let things flow,” Sayori said softly. “You both want it. Just let it happen.”

Yuri couldn’t help the tug she felt to look back in Monika’s direction. And the warmth in her chest bloomed all over her entire body when she found that her girlfriend was already watching her.

“Thank you, Sayori,” Yuri murmured. She stood, legs trembling like jello, and slipped off toward the bathroom.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, perched on the toilet seat while the faucet ran, filling the tiled room with white noise. Yuri saw Monika’s green eyes behind her closed eyelids, saw them in the emerald tiles that lined the walls when she opened them. Every surface reflected her, her laughter etched into the walls, her presence saturating the air.

God, it was all her—just—her. Just Monika.

Chapter Text

Yuri had been washing her hands when the door suddenly pushed open. 

She could smell the floral notes of Monika’s perfume before she even saw her. She glanced up just in time to see Monika’s reflection, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in the mirror. 

“Oops, sorry! I didn’t know someone was—” Monika stammered, already turning around and struggling to reopen the door.

“Monika?” Her name on Yuri’s lips felt like fresh air, like she could finally breathe after holding it in all night.

She spun around, a deer in headlights, eyes glossy under the harsh artificial light. “Oh my god, Yuri!” She gave her a playful shove. “You could have been taking a shit! Why didn’t you lock the door?”

Yuri smiled, shrugging while she dried her hands off.

Monika leaned back, sending her a disapproving look, the expression mixing with the wine-coloured flush on her cheeks. The edge of her mouth kicked up to a cheeky grin. She seemed more relaxed knowing that it wasn’t some stranger she had accidentally barged in on.

Yuri’s gaze slid down Monika’s body, slow and heavy, like honey. She followed the lax way her hair fell over her shoulders, indulging herself in how her silk dress clung to her curves with perfection. 

And Monika noticed. How could she not?

Perhaps it was the way Yuri didn’t bother hiding her admiration, or how her eyes seemed to always find their way to her lips. It felt like something was finally waking; it had been desperate for release the entire night. 

Monika cleared her throat, shuffling before they did something highly inappropriate. Before they did something she was afraid Yuri would regret. Monika decided that it was probably best to leave the bathroom and Yuri’s gentle eyes and even gentler lips behind her. It would be the best thing to do… for both of them.

But before she could even twist the doorknob open, Yuri’s hand was on her wrist. 

“Wait.” Her grip was gentle, not harsh. Never harsh. What came next was a plea instead of an order, “Stay.”

And Monika nearly stripped out of her clothes right then and there. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and prayed for strength, huffing and puffing like it would get rid of her dirty thoughts. “We can’t stay in the bathroom forever, Yuri. The party’s nearly over—”

“I know—I know, I just—”

Hadn’t felt this nervous since high school.

Yuri’s hands lingered by Monika’s waist, not daring to touch just yet. She just stood, close enough that Monika could feel her breath ghosting over her cheek. As if anything more than a mere sigh would have her crumbling to the floor. 

Monika’s eyes flicked down to Yuri’s lips, then back up. She didn’t move away. Neither did Yuri. The air between them was throbbing with the thought of every unspoken desire they ever had.

“Yuri…” Monika whispered, lips parted. Her voice was low, uncertain, but just traitorously hopeful. Yuri could have sworn she heard her breath hitch. It made something warm tingle inside of her.

Monika tiptoed to reach the taller woman and pressed a tentative peck on her lips. If she could steal something for herself tonight, let it be that. The kiss was simple, sugary, the most chaste Monika had been in a while. When she pulled away, the taste of her lingered on Yuri’s lips, faint wine and something sweeter, something she didn’t mind drowning in. 

It was then that Yuri decided that a little kiss would not suffice. 

So she drew her in again, just as tentative and hopeful as Monika’s voice had sounded, saying Yuri’s name. Only when Monika melted against her, her hands sliding up against Yuri’s chest and curling into her hair, did she deepen the kiss. She did so desperately, hungrily, like thunder striking through both of them, begging for rain to follow.

They stumbled back against the bathroom door. A soft gasp, the sound barely audible but devastating nonetheless, escaped Monika’s lips when they pulled apart.

“I—,” Yuri gulped down any lingering hesitance she had because Monika’s lipstick was smudged, and she looked so damn sexy. 

She thought it would be easier to show her what she meant instead of saying it. So, she kissed her again, bringing her closer, hand on the back of her neck, absorbing the heat that rolled off her body.

“Yuri,” Monika managed against her lips. Both of them ignored how it had sounded like a confession. “Are you sure?” She sounded hesitant for the first time since Yuri knew her. “Or… are you just doing this because of what I said last night—?”

“No,” Yuri huffed, pulling away despite every nerve in her body that begged to be closer. Yuri clenched her teeth, the sound of her frustration, a low hum from the back of her throat, escaping. When she spoke, her breath felt like molten gold swimming in the shell of Monika’s ear. “I’m not.”

A beat passed.

“You don’t know how much I wanted to kiss you,” Yuri confessed. 

She had wanted to do so much more than kiss her.

Monika chewed on her bottom lip. She had never heard Yuri sound like this before. 

Yuri continued. “I should have done this last night. How could I have been so stupid?”

Monika blinked. Her hands pushed against Yuri’s stomach, cracking the space between them apart ever so slightly. The inches that separated them were painful. “Yuri, you don’t need to—”

“I want to, Monika,” Yuri sighed, her whisper suddenly so gentle. She didn’t know when her hands decided to cup Monika’s face, but they were there, warm and caressing the freckled cheeks she had spent days dreaming about. Her words came slow, thick as honey, and Monika lapped them up like she wouldn’t eat for days. “You—you’re… I want to show you how much I want you.” 

Monika didn’t reply. She just exhaled, slowly, shuddering because she knew what those words meant, knew what it meant that Yuri had said them. Maybe she had always known. 

“Say something, Monika,” Yuri begged.

“I—,” Monika murmured. It felt like they had been silent for eons. “Okay,”

“Okay?”

Monika nodded, her eyes fluttering across Yuri’s face. She wanted to lick away the worry lines from her brow. She let them travel down her neck, linger on her collar, let them dip to her chest. 

Monika looked up again, biting her lip as she held Yuri’s gaze. “You gonna kiss me or what?”

Yuri didn’t need to be told twice.

She kissed her—messy, hungry, desperate—until their breaths tangled together and Monika was gripping her hair just to stay upright.

Monika’s mouth travelled down her chin, leaving a wet trail of kisses along her jaw, down her neck to her collarbone. Her fingers danced at the edge of Yuri’s shirt. 

“Can I take it off?” She whispered, bringing her mouth up to pepper kisses against Yuri’s lips.

“Please,” Yuri moaned, already fumbling to unbutton her blouse with urgent hands.

Monika sighed at the sight of Yuri’s chest, a satin black bra cupping her breasts where her hands longed to be. They needed to be held, to be kissed and lathered by her tongue, to be kneaded and worshipped. Yuri’s cheeks burned under the weight of Monika’s determined gaze.

“That needs to come off,” Monika purred as she swiftly unclasped Yuri’s bra. The sight of Yuri’s bare chest made her mouth water. 

And she would not waste any more time. Monika dipped her head to Yuri’s breasts, keeping her eyes locked onto her just in case she wanted her to stop. When Yuri said nothing, instead inching closer to her on her own, Monika kissed praise onto her areolas, flicking her nipples with practised ease. Her tongue lapped across Yuri’s blushing skin, sucking against the valley of her chest while she inhaled the sheen of sweat that was beginning to mix with her scent. 

Yuri whimpered at the contact. No one had ever done that before, and… it was so hot. She watched Monika suck her nipples and knead her breasts like it was her reason for life. Her eyes were hazy with lust, so enraptured in the act of tasting her. It was like the switch of her body, with each stroke of contact, Yuri twitched beneath her. 

“Turn—” Yuri huffed, tugging Monika back up. Her only protest was the pop of her mouth leaving Yuri’s breast. Yuri lowered her face to capture her lips, wondering what Monika tasted when she devoured her tits. Her tongue brushed hers in a tentative sweep, searching for the sweetness of herself in Monika’s mouth. 

Yuri finally pulled away, leaning into the shell of Monika’s ear so close she could see the goosebumps on her neck. “Turn around,” she commanded.

Monika hesitated for a fraction of a second, but the brief uncertainty in her eyes dissipated when she saw the look on Yuri’s face.

“Monika,” She started. Yuri’s thoughts flashed to the night before, but she knew what she wanted now. God, she always had. “I want you.”

And she could see the hope flicker back to life in Monika’s eyes, like a candle whose flame refused to blow out.  The words were reassurance enough to make her obey readily. Monika throbbed with expectation, spinning around and pressing herself flush against Yuri’s hips, indulging in her warmth, revelling in her closeness like she was basking in the sun.

“Yuri…” Monika’s voice was half-whisper, half-plea. Her next words came quietly, so soft in the thick air that neither could barely hear. “Promise… promise me you won’t push me away again,”

Yuri swallowed hard. Their eyes met in the mirror’s reflection.

“I promise,” 

And slowly, as slow as continental drift, Yuri’s fingers ventured tentatively through territory she had never been brave enough to explore until now. Her hand travelled from Monika’s collar, over the silk that covered the mounds of her pert breasts, her stomach, and lower again to where she knew her arousal pooled. 

This was it… Monika would be her first. Monika would be her only. Yuri’s fingers had never been blessed with the softness of another woman’s body before, and it felt like worship when it enveloped her warm.

Monika reached back to grab Yuri’s wrist, guiding her hovering hand to caress burning skin. Her dress was bunched up around her waist, leaving her bare except for the damp fabric of her underwear.

Yuri tried to ignore how her fingers trembled when they felt the lace. She was already moving to pull it down when Monika’s hand stilled on top of hers, as if she had suddenly realised something—maybe even wanted to stop.

“Wait—” she murmured, moaning when Yuri went to knead her hips. “We could—we could go home early and—and just do this there. There’s people outside—the party—”

“They won’t hear,” Yuri huffed. She nuzzled her nose into Monika’s hair. Her perfume was dizzying—warm, floral, familiar. Yuri wanted to taste her, consume her whole. “They’re too drunk and tired to notice that we’ve been gone. Unless you don’t—”

“No!” Monika cried, suddenly desperate, suddenly remembering the unbearable ache that had been edging her all damn night. She groaned. “Fuck, I want you, Yuri. I want you so bad,” 

They were shameless, and the thought made Monika’s knees weak. When Yuri didn’t move, Monika rubbed her ass against her hips in a desperate attempt to coax something out of her. She leaned back, feeling Yuri’s hardened nipples against the skin of her back. 

Yuri felt her restraint snap, a thread pulled too tight. She wasn’t trying to be rough, but there was no use being slow either. Her body moved on its own accord, fingers slipping down again like they had never been stopped, barely containing herself when Monika bucked, rejoicing with a gasp when her panties were pulled down. 

The sight of her bare skin made Yuri’s mouth water. Would she taste as sweet as the cherry pie they had for dessert?

“Let me keep going?” Yuri whispered into Monika’s ear like the words were sacred, her fingers hovering above Monika’s mound. 

She waited for Monika to nod. When she did, Yuri skimmed her fingers along the soft lips of her pussy, grazing her clit just slightly. Monika gasped, and Yuri couldn’t help but marvel at its softness. The sound and the feeling of her bud on the tips of her fingers.

Monika peered at Yuri in the mirror, eyes half-lidded and barely focused. It was the stark opposite of the expression on Yuri’s face. She looked so focused, so entranced by just touching her. Like she could spend centuries mastering this pleasure, memorising its delicacy.

“Fuck, Yuri,” Monika shuddered when Yuri slid her fingers through Monika’s folds. 

She loved how they slickened with her sticky arousal. It produced the sweetest, wet sound, and Yuri couldn’t help the gentle moan that escaped her. 

Monika returned the noise; she could feel the cord of tension in her stomach grow, the knowing tickle building the familiar, sweet craze in her mind. Monika’s hand flew out, pressing against the mirror where she held her own reflection just to keep herself grounded.

She couldn’t help grind against Yuri’s hand, her body’s desperate plea for more. 

“You’re so beautiful, Moni,” Yuri breathed as she circled Monika’s swollen clit with urgent strokes. Her wet fingers kneaded, coaxing more of her slick arousal. The constant motion enticed moans from Monika’s lips, but still, the wet sound of her cunt was louder than their laboured breaths. Yuri cupped Monika’s breast with her other hand, tracing aimless patterns across the flushed skin of her chest.

“Yes,” Monika whimpered. She rocked her hips, following the thrust of Yuri’s fingers inside of her. “Just—just like that,”

Yuri looked up and found her flushed reflection staring back at her in the mirror. There was a dirty grin on her face, and she had never seen anything quite like it. The two of them were tangled. Flushed. In sync. The sight was utterly addicting.

Monika’s eyes were squeezed shut while Yuri’s fingers pumped in and out of her. “Yes,” She whined, grinding her ass against Yuri’s hips even harder. The movement made Yuri curl her fingers inside her, hitting that spot just right. Monika groaned. “Fuck!”

Yuri kept her gaze locked on Monika’s reflection as she lowered her mouth to suck sweetness from her neck. 

She couldn’t believe it was real.

The fact that she was actually fucking Monika with her fingers drove her insane.

She was so wet, so sloppy when her fingers filled her full.

Monika’s eyes glossed over, fluttering in a limbo between realisation and blissful ignorance. She tried desperately to keep her gaze fixed on the mirror, as if she wanted nothing more than to see herself submitting under Yuri’s touch, but the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

Yuri’s fingers, deep inside her, brushed that fantastical spot again, and Monika nearly buckled. Her body moved on instinct, grinding reverently against Yuri’s hand. She was weightless, legs trembling to keep her upright. Yuri’s hand over her mouth muffled desperate moans, but it couldn’t silence the sound of their sex, skin slapping skin. Loud and hot, like sun on sand. The wet sound, the scent of them, was intoxicating.

“Yuri—f-fuck, just like that,” Monika choked out between moans. The insides of her stomach lifted as if she’d just fallen from the gates of heaven, winds of pleasure rushing past her ears. She clenched around Yuri’s fingers, soft thighs snapping shut and trapping the woman’s hand inside her as she rode her orgasm.

“Fuck!” Monika cried, twitching at the feeling—the sheer thought—of Yuri’s fingers buried inside her. Yuri could barely move her hand, but she didn’t need to. Monika was already over the edge.

“You’re gorgeous, Monika,” Yuri sighed as she continued to watch their reflection in the mirror. Her eyes especially lingered on where her hand was trapped between Monika’s trembling thighs, where her fingers disappeared into her dripping cunt.

Monika shuddered, her back arching as she curled into Yuri’s arms. Her body jerked as she milked every drop of the ecstasy, chasing every ghost of a high, her breath spilling out as satisfied moans.

It was enchanting, the way Monika lingered on the edge even after coming so hard. Her hair fell over her face, sweat plastering strands across her forehead.

Finally, Monika sagged against her, caught in a limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness, breathless and trembling like the world existed only for them. Yuri let her fingers stay inside for a little longer, memorising—admiring—the way Monika’s cunt clenched weakly around her like it didn’t want her to leave just yet. Yuri had never felt anything so soft.

After a while, Monika parted her thighs, still quivering. Yuri gently withdrew. Her fingers slipped out with a wet sound, a teasing string of slick stretching from her fingertips. Glossy. Wet. The most beautiful her hand had ever looked.

Yuri brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean.

Monika watched, soft pink tongue peeking out as if she wanted a taste too. So Yuri kissed her, letting her taste herself straight from her tongue.

—

“We should go to dinner parties more often,” Monika joked as she reapplied her lipstick, blending it across her lips with her finger. 

Yuri made an amused sound. She had just finished combing through her hair. It was still tousled, but she was starting to think it looked better that way. Messy. Dark. Sex written in her hair.

“What? So we can sneak off and fuck in the bathroom more often?” Yuri chuckled, her voice hoarse, thick with lingering desire. She moved behind Monika, noticed the back of her dress was slightly bunched up, and smoothed it out for her. Her fingers lingered against the skin of her back. It was warm, a light sheen of sweat coating the surface.

“Mhm,” Monika hummed, leaning into Yuri’s touch. The warmth in her abdomen returned when Yuri pressed a kiss against the side of her neck. She chewed her lip. “I think I just want to fuck you more often.”

Yuri smiled into the crook of her neck. “That could be arranged.”

Monika turned around, their arms wrapping easily around each other, bands of warmth threading through the soft flesh of their bodies. She leaned against Yuri’s neck. Perhaps this was what life was about: the warmth of your lover against your skin, the way two hearts pressed close when they hugged.

Yuri felt lighter, like the weight of life had been lifted from her shoulders. If she jumped, she thought she might actually fly.

“Hey,” Monika sighed into her ear, as if the word itself had been invented just for her.

“Hey,” Yuri answered. Just as soft. Just as reverent.

They were both smiling when they pulled apart.

“You okay?” Monika asked, just to be sure. But the way she looked at her made Yuri feel like she already knew the answer. Yuri’s hand lingered on Monika’s lower back, caressing with abandon, as if she’d never known anything else.

Yuri pressed one last kiss to her lips. A reply in itself. “I feel magical.”