⌁ 𝕚 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ⌁

⌁⁘ 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕕 ⁘⌁

~ 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲, 𝓲

𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮

⟫ y/n pov ⟪

~ ⁘ ~ ⁘ ~ ⁘ ~

The months following our chat in the Hoffman building went by very quickly.

He'd walked me back to my campushouse -- in the rain, might I add -- and after a beat of awkward silence, he bit it and asked for my snap.

I happily obliged. Obviously.

We snapped back and forth for weeks, then we eventually got each other's phone numbers to send GamePigeons back and forth, playing eight-ball until we fell asleep, then waking up to a new game of darts or cup pong accompanying a 'good morningggg' text.

As our friendship grew, the bond between our friend groups grew as well. There were several nights where all the guys would crash in our living room after a long night of Netflix binges, or where all the girls and I would wake up in piles of blankets and pillows in the guys' living room after an all-nighter spent studying.

One particular night, another movie night, we were all in campushouse 4's living room, everyone scattered around in various states of relaxation and disarray.

Nico was curled up between Mason's legs, leaning against his chest as they lounged on the loveseat. Leah and Olivea kept stealing giggling glances from the couch at the twins sitting on barstools at the counter. Dior was laying on her stomach on an air mattress between Charlie and Momo, all their eyes glued to the screen. Walker and I were on beanbag chairs at the foot of the couch, but we'd been making snack / drink runs back and forth from the kitchen for the rest of our friends.

I glanced over at Walker, tracing his profile with my eyes, his features highlighted by the eerie LEDs of the TV where Barbie played and Margot Robbie cried. "Walker," I breathed for only him to hear.

He hummed quietly and turned his head to meet my eyes. "What's up?" he whispered back.

I blinked. His startlingly blue eyes were even brighter in the dim lighting. I couldn't help but smile as he looked at me. "Do you wanna come help me make more popcorn?" I asked.

He nodded and stood, holding a hand out for me to help me to my feet. I smiled and gratefully accepted the help. Just like that assembly all those months ago. I still couldn't help the blush that bloomed in my cheeks, but I was grateful for the darkness covering it for me. My hand lingered in his a moment longer than necessary before I released it and wove through the maze of people lounging everywhere to get to the kitchen.

As we stepped through the doorway into the kitchen for the millionth time that night, I clicked on the soft ochre overhanging lights and Walker went to root through the cabinets. "Wrong cabinet," I chuckled as I sidled up to him, pulling open the door directly beside his.

He shrugged, continuing to dig through the snacks. "Well, maybe I'm just looking for something good for myself."

"Oh," I smiled, "so you're just helping yourself to my food? I didn't realize we were doing that now. I may have to show up to your campushouse just to go through your fridge," I suggested, pulling two bags of popcorn off the shelf.

As I crossed the tile floor to stick the kernels into the microwave, Walker trailed after me. I put in the packet and he stopped behind me, resting his chin atop my head and letting out a quiet hum. "What are you doing?" I asked quietly.

"Watching," he replied, echoing my tone. "I've never had popcorn like yours, I want to see how you make it." He let out a heavy sigh. "I don't think anyone I live with doesn't burn it every. Single. Time." He punctuated each of his words with poke to my side, coaxing gentle laughter from my lips.

"Quit," I giggled, swatting at his hand. He just smiled.

As the microwave lights danced around us, we fell into a content silence, his chin still atop my head. I could feel the subtle sensation of him worrying the hem of my too-big t-shirt between his fingertips.

Once the popcorn beeped, I pulled the handle and the door swung open. I reached for the bag and hissed when the steam burned my skin. Walker reached out, enclosing his hand around mine and tugging it down to our sides, using his other hand to pull the bag out of the microwave for me.

My face burned, his fingers tangled with mine. "Do I need to get a bowl?" he murmured as I unwrapped the second packet and set the timer for 1:11.

I nodded. "Yes, please." He released my hand and stepped away from me, and I immediately missed his steady warmth against my back. As I watched the packet spin, I heard him clanging around in the shelves for a bowl big enough for two bags.

Once both bags were poured, I clicked the lights back off and grabbed a stack of red Solo cups so that everyone's grody hands weren't all in the bowl at once.

"We made more popcorn," I said quietly as we reentered the living room. I sat the bowl on the coffee table, along with the stack of cups. Everyone grinned their soft 'thank you's and Walker and I settled back into our beanbags.

We sat much closer together than we were before, like some kind of unspoken barrier had been broken with the interaction in the kitchen.

After a few minutes, once everyone was back in their seats and their attention was back on the movie, Walker turned to look at me. "(Y/n)?" he whispered quietly.

I turned my head to meet his eyes. "Walker?" I questioned back, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"How's your hand?" My breath caught in my throat as he reached for the hand I had burned on the popcorn steam.

"Not too bad," I whispered. "My fingers tingle a bit, but I barely notice it."

My heart stopped as he raised my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over each of my burned fingertips. "Better?"

I smiled. "Yeah."

He mirrored my smile with a gorgeous one of his own. "Good."

We sat the rest of the movie in silence, our knees pressed together, my hand clasped in his.

※

maya speaks :

shorter chapter today, but y'all got a little bit of fluff 🥰