An Abundance Of Oneshots

Icicle Past and Hot Chocolate Future (Nick Scratch)

This one, I just really had to write, the first part is based on a true story (today whoops) and I chose Nicholas because I have some old drafts of him and I'd already included the bit about phones and I didn't know if anyone else I write for would really fit the plot that was quickly running away from me. I don't know if anyone out there has seen or enjoyed this show, I have mixed feelings myself, but here it is! I have a Newt fic and a 10th Doctor fic also under way. On to the show!

Title: Icicle Past and Hot Chocolate Future
Fandom: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina
Pairing: Nicholas Scratch x Reader
Request: my own desperation
Labels: Y/n = your name

Warnings: angst and fluff and angst and angst and fluff. Past trauma, some harsh words, frostbite? More fluff, panic attacks, libraries

•••

They weren't talking about you.

They weren't.

You knew that. Things had changed since, since those days, they weren't talking about you. They probably barely knew you were there. You were just another piece of furniture in the library, they didn't see you, it was not about you.

"Look at her. She's so stupid, oh my God, look at what she's wearing," they laughed.

Their phones were out. It was not about you.

So why were your hands sweating so much? Why did you feel like every muscle was tense, like if you relaxed, the light shake of your hands would turn into a full-body earthquake? Why did you want to get up and run and run and run, even though you were in no danger, even though you had nowhere to go? Another forty-five minutes before the free period ended, before you would go to your last class. Another forty-five minutes. You could make it.

"What is she even doing?"

You were looking at your book, trying to pretend not to listen. Don't listen. Stop eavesdropping. Read. But none of the words were registering.

Forty minutes.

Ten minutes, four times. Five minutes eight times. That wasn't so long. 2,400 seconds.

"God, look at her hair." They laughed.

No. You couldn't take five minutes eight times. You couldn't even take five minutes. Your hands fumbled, packing your things, unsure where to go -- you always spent free periods in the library or with Nick, but he was busy today, and the library was closing in. Get out.

So you did. You tried very hard to walk normally. How'd you get outside? You'd left your coat in your locker, damn, the cold bit hard at your skin, but you couldn't go back. It was all too much.

Your last school, people weren't... Kind. It was better now. Less open malice, less talking and giggling about you when your back was turned. You had friends now -- if only their free periods aligned with yours! They would help you. If your heart wasn't already racing, you'd go to their classes and pretend you were fetching them to go to the office so they could help you.

But you couldn't.

This was the kind of weather that killed people, far past cold enough but not wet enough to snow. With your coat, you'd have no problem. But you didn't. And even walking was a challenge, you didn't have the strength to go back, not when you were shaking like a leaf in a wind tunnel.

Teeth actually chatter, in the cold. You thought it was a myth. You knew better now.

"Y/n!"

You knew that voice. You stopped walking, still unable to breathe quite right.