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where you are, i will be - rilaya

i'm supposed to be saving these fics for ao3 and tumblr only, but i've actually been pretty proud of my works lately and i can't help sharing them here with all of you. so here it is loves, the extreme soulmate au that i've spent the last million years of my life on (it's well over 4,500 words, murder me)

and of course, it's rilaya again. i'm trash.

-

"And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you."

...

She feels as if everything has lead to right now. Absolutely everything. It's times like this, with her dark hair splayed across a warm pillow and her eyes just barely forcing themselves open as she caresses her knuckles gently- it's the tiny little moments like this, where she's nestled into her larger frame, thriving off her touch and body heat, where Maya wonders if she's loved Riley before.

Maybe it's because they fit like puzzle pieces, yin and yang. Maybe it's because everything she says is right. Maybe it's because her touch is somehow simultaneously rough and gentle and beautiful. How else could she be so perfect, except if she'd done it before?

"Hey," Riley says, putting her chin atop Maya's crown of blonde hair. Her words are slurred with sleep and it warms Maya's heart a small bit.

"Hey," she responds into the crook of her neck. She can feel Riley's hairs begin to raise and she smiles against her soft skin.

"I'm glad we're here."

Maya knows she's not talking about the bed, or the position they're lying in exactly, though that's a nice extension. She's talking about them as a whole, as a pair. Maya agrees with her. She's glad that everything they went through lead them here. There's something comforting about the fact that Riley is her beginning and her end, even if she wasn't quite her's somewhere in between.

"Yeah, Riles, me too."

She burrows further into her warmth, her smell, her safety. Riley kisses her forehead once before her cheek rests on top of her head, fingers lightly brushing the small of her back. Then Maya drifts off into sleep with the comfort that when she awoke it'd be in the arms of someone she loved more than life itself.

...

Maybe in one lifetime, they didn't meet until later.

She's seventeen, walking along the dark streets of greenwich village, scrunching her nose at all the fancy homes and nice apartments. she thinks everyone that lives here must be snobs, wanting everything to be perfectly perfect. There's not a leaf out of place or a single piece of garbage littering the street. She does it for them, throwing a crushed soda can and a red lollipop wrapper over her shoulder with a clang. She thinks everyone that lives here must have a pretty easy life.

Then she suddenly spots an open window on one of the upper floors of the apartment right ahead of her. Girly hot pink curtains are billowing outside, alerting the entire universe that a little girl lived inside.

She thinks everyone that lives here must be really, really stupid.

Maya swings herself up the fire escape silently with ease; she has one of her own that she'd climbed quietly many times in the middle of the night. She crouches in front of the open window, peering in. The room is exactly the type she expected from this neighborhood, fluffy pillows, frilly bedsheets, everything is pink. It's gross and she's sure she is going to puke, but little girls are the perfect prey, they'll usually not even scream if you ask them nicely, and there's a pink sequin wallet lying on the vanity that seems to be calling to her.