Enşah | Oneshots

Midnight Kisses

A/N: Happy New Yeeeeaaarrr!! Consider this a small gift from me 🥳

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Şahika likes the rain.

She likes the sound of it against the windows at night. She likes the way it glistens on the pitch black street. She likes the way it smells on her jacket when she gets home, and how it feels on her forehead when the first unexpected drop makes its appearance.

Ender, however, does not.

She hustles them into the nearest building, which happens to be a small, busy cafe with a bell on the door. It rings when they enter, and a lady behind the counter says hello. Şahika doesn't say anything, so Ender smiles politely and gives a curt nod.

The air is coated with the invasive stench — one that comes with having coffee anywhere within a five mile radius. It's also a little crowded. But they're already inside, and they don't have umbrellas, so they settle at a table with two wooden chairs on either side. Ender sits. Şahika takes a long look around, and then sits.

"Coffee?" Şahika asks. Ender shakes her head. She's surprised, to say the least, because Şahika swears she has seen Ender drink coffee more times than she can count.

"Too bitter." Ender answers. "Don't feel like having coffee today."

"Really? Wow. What will you order, then? Wait, no. Let me guess."

Şahika closes her eyes and puts a finger over her cheek like she's doing something way more intellectual. Ender stares, amused.

Şahika opens her eyes. "I've got it." She snaps her fingers, pauses, then says, "Tea."

Ender nods. Şahika smirks.

"What kind?" Ender asks. "Bonus points."

Şahika bites her lip, eyes wandering like there's a sign hidden somewhere around the cafe with the answer on it.

"Trick question," she says, finally coming to a conclusion. "You like all of them."

"Wrong."

"Earl grey?"

"Wrong."

"Chamomile?"

"Wrong."

"Black?"

"No."

"Blue?"

"That's not even a thing."

"What do you think I am, British?" Şahika says. "I don't know that many types of teas. Guess my favorite drink."

Ender looks up for a few seconds, thinking. "Chocolate milk," she says.

"Excuse me?!"

Ender laughs. Loud and clear. And the way her eyes light up makes Şahika's heart beat just a little faster.

"I'm kidding. Espresso."

"Wro- wait, that's right." Şahika looks at her with a proud look on her face. "How did you guess?"

"You said it once. Or twice. Or maybe three million times back when we couldn't afford that stupid espresso machine."

Şahika remembers. Her lips curl only slightly at the memories, and a warm feeling settles inside her chest at the realization that Ender remembers too.

"You listen to me when I talk?"

"Occasionally."

Şahika said it during one of her ramblings. One of those where she complained about every possible thing that came to her mind in the span of thirty seconds, and Ender pretended to be doing something else — but listened intently, apparently — because she enjoys hearing Şahika talk. She likes how when she's telling a story, Şahika always has to add dramatizations or hand gestures. She likes how being with her is never boring — how it always feels refreshing — and she likes it when they're walking sometimes and Şahika holds her hand and clings to her, even though she has never really been the type of person to have much of a desire for touch. Ender likes the small gestures of affection more than she would ever like to admit, and sometimes she just wants to lay her head on Şahika's chest and listen to her heartbeat.