Raven was waiting at the door when Deimos dropped Mira off. She looked imposing, angry and tired all at the same time. She crossed her arms when Mira hopped out of Deimos’ car, Deimos following after her.

“It’s been two weeks,” Raven said calmly when both individuals walked up to her. Previously, Mira asked Deimos to come with her because she couldn’t handle it alone. Deimos would walk straight into Hell with her.

“I needed time,” Mira murmured, eyes glued on her shoes. She breathed in and sighed slowly. “I’m sorry.”

Raven glanced at Deimos. It was a look of skepticism. A look of empathy. A look that held a million different meanings yet all meant the same thing.

“Thank you for being there for her.”

“Come inside, we’ll talk,” Raven gently said to Mira. The shorter girl nodded slowly and looked to Deimos.

Something weird in him felt compelled to kiss the top of her head. She smelled like his shampoo.

Then the door shut on him.

For a moment, he listened to the two girls on the other side.

“Raven, I’ve been such an asshole, I’m so sorry I kissed you.”

“Mira, it’s ok. I shouldn’t have hit you-”

“No, I deserved it. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have respected your wishes and treated you fairly-”

Deimos turned back and walked over to his car. Just as he was going to unlock it, a hand grabbed his shoulder. Annie stared up at him blankly.

“How are they?” She asked calmly.

Deimos paused, shocked. “They’re talking.”

Annie sighed. “Good.” She glanced uneasily at her home. “I saw you guys arrive and didn’t want to walk into something so awkward. You wanna get coffee or something? I don’t want to really impede on their conversation.”

Deimos sighed. Two weeks had passed full of sexual tension and awkwardness between Mira and him. He just wanted to lie in bed, probably smell Mira in his sheets, and sleep for a million years. After Mira’s little episode, Deimos hasn’t been able to put on a bralette without thinking about her. He just wanted to die.

“Fine,” he said gruffly.

As expected, Annie brought her to the usual café in the usual dim booth spot. Annie held their spots as Deimos headed to the counter to order the usual drinks. He wasn’t in the mood to drink anything right now, but also in the mood to drink everything right now. He wanted to feel warm. He just didn’t want to be cold anymore. While he waited in the line, he compromised and decided to get green tea to help ease his nerves and a black coffee for Annie (because she was a monster). The usual barista with the lip piercing was making the drinks today, and he smiled at Deimos while he waited in line, but he seemed to also have a little shadow that followed him around as he went. Well, a “little shadow” seemed like an understatement. The trainee was tall, taller than barista dude and around the same height as Deimos. He looked a little lost when Deimos came up to counter and he went slowly to be sure the trainee didn’t mess up.

He was kind of beautiful, the trainee.

Caramel skin. Sharp, almond-shaped golden eyes. Thick, curly black hair. A nice undercut. Great arms. Slender fingers. They met eyes and he immediately looked back at the screen. Mira does that as well. He bit his lip while he tapped in Deimos’ order and fumbled a bit when he rang in the cash. Mira would probably do stupid shit like that too. Everything about this café reminded him of her. The baristas. The smell. The lighting.

When Deimos walked over to the little pick-up counter for his drinks, he watched the baristas make quick work behind the scenes, watching how the lip piercing barista soared across the counter making drink after drink. The trainee could barely keep up and he accidentally spilled milk over his black pants.

“Are you ok?” Deimos asked quickly. The trainee shook his head vigorously.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stuttered out.

The more experienced one told him to go change in the back. The drinks were fine and eventually Deimos came back to the usual booth. For a moment, he forgot why he even came to the café, the trainee’s little mess up making him forget about Mira completely. Annie smiled when he slid her coffee to him.

“Mira and Raven have always had a tense relationship,” she murmured as she sipped her drink. She got right to the point. “I hope this can be the last time.”

“This has happened multiple times?”

Annie nodded and sighed. “Too many times. They love each other. Sometimes the line blurs and they end up arguing. Usually they try to forget it, supress it, lock it away and never mention it again. But, after doing that millions of times, one day it’s just all going to burst and overflow,” she rambled.

“Then what makes this so different?” Deimos frowned.

Annie looked at him. “You’re here.”

Mira knocked on Deimos’ door. Surprisingly, he opened up pretty quickly.

“Holy shit,” he blurted out.

Mira knew she looked like a mess. Paint smeared across her overalls, strings of glue in her hair, dead-eyed expression. The ultimate starving art student look.

“I know I look disgusting, please let me in,” she said calmly. She hoisted up her backpack full of supplies for the upcoming nights.

“How long are you staying?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three weeks?”

“Deimos, please,” she whined. “It’s the end of the school year and all the major projects are due. I need to be in the Visual Arts building as long as possible and you know that the busses stop running at twelve.”

He rubbed his neck nervously. Mira tried not to think of the Incident that happened a few months ago. They’ve been on good terms since, not mentioning, not even hinting at something as intimate as that. Not that they could really even do something like that again. Raven and Mira both needed time to heal, and that meant time to themselves and not hanging out with anyone. It’s been a while since Mira’s done this, and she’s not completely comfortable with the situation as well even though she’s instigating it.

But screw her relationship with Deimos, she needed to worry about her grades.

“Did you bring a sleeping bag?” He asked. Mira hoisted up her huge hiking backpack.

“I brought a sleeping pad as well.”

“Jesus Christ, fine. You’re paying for food though.”

Deimos sighed, staring hard at his laptop screen, one leg bouncing and shaking the whole desk. He ran his hands nervously through his hair and swore under his breath. His head throbbed and eyes stung and mind melted. He couldn’t fucking focus on his stupid essay. He couldn’t fucking think. The strain of the laptop monitor was painful as well so he couldn’t fucking see either. Gnawing on his lip, he rested his head on the edge of his desk and tried to organize his thoughts. Nothing came to mind, nothing ignited the creativity inside him to keep pushing forward. This essay had to be done tomorrow. It was already one in the morning and he had two more paragraphs to do. He needed to fucking finish it or else he’s not sleeping. And he can’t afford to skip class tomorrow, he has a lab that’s half percent of his mark.

“Fuck!” He shouted. Groaning, he leaned back in his chair, listening to it creak and stared up at the ceiling. He needed to do a million things when he just wanted to curl up in his bed and jack off. He couldn’t fucking even do that because Mira was camping over. Rubbing his face, he stretched in his seat and got up. He tried to breathe and collect his thought to no avail and just ended up swearing loudly again. Flopping back into his seat after walking around his stupidly small apartment, Deimos gave his work one more look and felt the life force within him slowly trickle away. Stress was building up. Anxiety was piling up.

Biting his lip, Deimos lifted his shirt and rested his head on his desk. Instead of just fucking doing his work, he rubbed his nipples through his silk blue bralette he bought recently. Mira had complimented him when he woke up with his shirt off. Mira’s eyes zoned in on the silk fabric and Deimos shivered at her heated stare.

Prickles of excitement and pleasure flowed through Deimos as he rubbed his nipples. He remembered Mira’s tongue and her lips against him. He shivered and felt his groin start to kick back to life.

“I’m home!” Mira called out.

Immediately, Deimos dropped his hands and shoved his shirt above his half-erection. Mira’s head popped out of the side, her smile unaware and innocent to the fact that Deimos was just touching himself.

He refused to look at her and mumbled out an exhausted greeting. “Hey.”

“Having fun with your essay?” She laughed, walking over. Deimos felt his body burn up and he thought of a million things to settle down his erection. Thankfully, videos he’s found in the depths of reddit did just the trick, even though he was still full of shame. Mira touched his back and rubbed his muscles gently, the boy involuntarily sighing to her touch. She laughed and hugged him from behind.

“You can do it,” she whispered. Deimos wanted to fucking kiss the shit out of her.

“Debateable.”

Mira’s chuckle was in his ear. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Noodles.”

“Coming right up,” she snickered.

She turned the corner into the kitchen and for a while, Deimos sat frozen in his spot, staring down at his thighs and listened to Mira rummage around the kitchen. After a solid ten minutes of doing absolutely nothing and panic about his essay slowly coming back, Mira appeared beside him and placed a warm mug of hot chocolate beside him. He looked at her and she rubbed his sore muscles. Her smile was ethereal.

Afterwards, she returned back to the kitchen, yawning and humming. Deimos managed to type three more sentences with a clearer plan in mind after chugging half of Mira’s blessed drink. He took another break and wandered into the small kitchen he had where Mira had laid out last night’s leftovers, eggs and bok choy. She pushed her hair out of her face, which in better light was covered in charcoal. Deimos leaned against the counter, staring at her intently.

“Finished your charcoal piece?” He asked calmly.

Mira stared at him and shrugged. “Not yet. After I eat, I’m going back down to the campus to work on it more. I’m almost done.”

Deimos stared at this small girl. She dedicated her whole life to her projects. The black stains on her shirt, on her overalls, on her face and her hands were solid evidence. She was a fucking machine. Deimos did his labs, wrote his essays, read his texts, but he didn’t breathe life into what he does. Mira does. It’s admirable.

“Why did you ever decide working with a piece that’s six feet tall was a good idea?” He asked.

“I wanted to try,” she responded, pouting a little.

Deimos smiled and touched her shoulder. “Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Debateable.”

He snickered and stepped behind her to rub her shoulders for a bit. He wanted to kiss her neck but opted out to blasting away at his essay. Mira slipped beside him with their late night snack and they watched a few videos while slurping up hot noodles.