❝Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.❞
❝That would be you.❞
❝You're a smooth motherfucker, aren't you?❞
In which Nico desperately needs advice and finds a payphone, but he has nobody to call.
And then the payphone rings.
And Nico answers.
And ov...
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She's not sure she wants to.
She stares at the phone screen, unwilling to admit the voice didn't come from it.
"Nessa, look at me."
"I don't know if I can." She swallows, her eyes are spinning with almost a years worth of late night conversations, and she clenches them shut.
"It's dark as shit, Nessa. You probably can't see me anyways. Just the looming shadow of a mega hunk with boundary issues. Call me Tom Riddle."
"If you're suggesting Voldemort is a mega hunk, I'd rather put sand in my eyes than turn around."
"But Nessa, I'm the sand to your itching, blinded eyes."
She can't help but laugh, his voice always so familiar to her ears. Letting out a slow breath, she readies herself and twists around as fast as she can.
"Agh! What the fuc—" He screams, indeed merely a shadow, stumbling on his own legs and eventually falling backwards into the sand.
"Oh my God! Nico, why did you—"
"Who the fuck does that? That was supposed to be super romant— ack—" He coughs then wheezes, sputtering out sand that launched itself into his throat from his descent, "You're meant to turn around and look up shyly from under your eyelashes, not jumpscare me like a fucking maniac! I almost shit my pants! That could've been the second accident today!"
"Second?"
"I peed my pants a little about half an hour ago, don't worry about it."
"I got myself a good one, didn't I?"
He lies back into the sand, "You sure did."
"I still can't see you."
"Can't you?" He asks, she sees the outline of him prop his head up and face her.
"Nope."
He pauses for a moment, seeming to collect himself.
Then he starts rolling.
Sand flies in every direction, she sees nothing but a blurry cylinder hurtling towards her.
"What the hell are you doing?!" She shouts into the salty air, but honestly doesn't know what else she expected of him, "Slow down!"
Obviously he doesn't.
Bracing herself for the impact, she brings her arms up to shield herself, eyes clenched shut once again. She hears him slow, then feels something rest on her lap, making itself comfortable.
"I managed to get sand in your eyes and get you to turn around. I'm two for o today."
She blinks and looks down.
He smiles and stares up.
"Nico."
"Vanessa."
She frowns, but his grin melts it. His hair looks like a cat mangled it, sand cakes his face and neck, and his eyes are still teary from when he almost died choking.
Yep, this one's mine.
He stretches up a hand and almost stabs her in the eye, "Ah! Sorry. I was going for a formal handshake, but I should've known that's about as good an idea as peeing pants and then not changing pants is."
"You keep reiterating the fact that you let loose in your pants like a five year old boy. I can't say it's my biggest turn on."
"Darn, really? What about self deprecating humor? Lactose intolerance? Seething hatred for green fruit? Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?"
He stretches out a hand again — slowly this time — but instead of shaking it, she holds it in her lap, finding the lines of his palm with her finger. His hand is warm against hers.
"That tickles."
"Shut up, this is romantic."
"Right, right. Oh, how I ache for the warmth of your chapped lips. My loins burn for— ow!"
"Must you ruin everything?"
"If not to ruin, I have no purpose."
She moves her other hand to his sandy face, "May I?"
"Preferably before these lovely microscopic stones block my airways and I choke my way to inevitable death."
"Drama queen." She smiles, brushing the grains off his face, she begins to see his features more clearly now, "Damn, Nico. You have to tell me your skincare routine."
He mumbles, eyes closed, "You just watched me do it."
"Ah, right."
"You have really soft hands. Shit, I mean really soft. Wow." He grabs her other hand and slaps it onto his face, "Holy shit it's like a cloud on my face."
"Had you just asked I would've gladly slapped you myself."
"Shh, tell me I'm pretty."
At this moment she notices the text on his shirt, barely visible in the moonlight:
Spotted: pile of garbage named Nico. - GG
The corners of her mouth quirk and she sighs, looking out to the shimmering ocean as breeze brushes her face, "This is nice."
"Yeah, it is."
She'd never felt more alive.
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AHH!
that's it, you guys! the end of 1am therapy :' ) (update: WAIT! There's a bonus chapter!)
i cant believe we're here
i havent yet decided if i'll add bonus chapters and whatnot, all i hope is that you guys enjoyed this book as much as i did!
thank you so much for reading, for commenting, for voting, it means the world
