Nova Reyes laced her running shoes at 5:47 a.m., the dorm room still cloaked in pre-dawn gray. She moved with the quiet precision of someone who had learned long ago that noise invited questions, and questions invited panic. Her braid swung like a pendulum as she stretched against the doorframe, calves tight from yesterday's easy five-miler around campus. The air smelled of rain-soaked concrete drifting up from the quad below, mixed with the faint pine of Elara's soap that clung to everything now.
Elara lay sprawled on her bed, one arm flung over her eyes, mouth slightly open. The fairy lights cast a warm halo over her tangled black hair, strands sticking to her cheek where drool had escaped in sleep. Nova's gaze lingered longer than it should. The kiss from two nights ago replayed in fragments: Elara's lips tasting of pizza grease and possibility, hands urgent under fabric, the way her breath hitched when Nova's thumb brushed the underside of her breast. They had stopped short of everything, clothes half-shed, promises whispered in the dark to "figure it out tomorrow." Tomorrow had come and gone, replaced by awkward nods and stolen glances.
Nova slipped out, the door clicking shut softly behind her. The hallway echoed empty, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. She jogged down the stairs, pushing into the cool morning. Vireo City woke slowly, glass towers catching the first pink of sunrise. Her feet pounded in rhythm, steady four-count breath. Inhale two, exhale two. The injury from senior year of high school twinged in her knee, a ghost reminder of the track that stole her dreams. She pushed harder, chasing the burn.
Back by 6:45, sweat cooling on her skin, Nova showered quickly in the communal bathroom. Steam fogged the mirrors. She avoided her reflection, towelling dry with efficient swipes. Back in the room, Elara still slept. Nova dressed in jeans and a hoodie, grabbed her urban-planning textbook, and headed to the library before the awkward morning dance began.
Elara woke to sunlight slicing through the blinds, stripes across her blanket like prison bars. Her head throbbed from late-night editing, photos of Nova's laughing face staring back from the screen until 3 a.m. She groaned, rolled over, and spotted the empty bed opposite. Nova's side is pristine, as always. Sheets tucked hospital-corner tight, desk organised with colour-coded highlighters in a row.
The mini-fridge hummed in the corner, shared territory since move-in. Elara's stomach growled. She padded over in socks, yanked it open. Her shelf: half-eaten bag of chips, soda cans, leftover pizza slice wrapped in foil. Nova's: neat rows of yoghurt, apples, a bag of mangoes, bright orange and tempting.
"One won't hurt." Elara snatched the ripest, peeled it with her teeth, juice dripping down her chin. Sweet. Tropical. She devoured it over the sink, seeds tossed in the trash. Wiped her hands on her shorts, grinning at the small rebellion.
Classes dragged. Photography lecture on composition, Elara zoning out, sketching Nova's scar in the margins of her notebook. Lunch alone in the caf, burger and fries again. She snapped a photo of her tray, captioned it mentally: *Still life with grease.*
Afternoon darkroom session. Elara developed the portraits from day one. Nova's eyes emerged in the tray, chemical bath revealing layers. She printed extras, hid them in her poetry folder. The accidentally changing shots were too blurry to keep, but the memory was sharp.
Back to the dorm by five. Nova was already there, at her desk, blueprints spread. She looked up, eyes flicking to Elara's sticky fingers.
"You ate my mango."
Elara froze in the doorway, bag slung over her shoulder. "Borrowed. Interest accruing."
Nova's lips twitched. Not quite a smile. "Those are from the market in Jersey. My abuela sends them."
"Guilt trip noted." Elara dropped her bag, crossed to the fridge. Pulled out a soda, cracked it open. "I'll replace. Double."
"With what? Campus fruit tastes like cardboard."
"Fair." Elara leaned against the counter, sipping. The room felt charged, the kiss hanging unspoken. "Run go well?"
"Decent. Knee held." Nova turned back to her sketch, pencil scratching. A community centre now, lines for playgrounds and gardens.
Elara watched her work. The focus. The way her tongue poked the corner of her mouth in concentration. Heat pooled low in Elara's belly. She cleared her throat. "About the other night."
Nova's pencil stopped. "Yeah?"
"We should talk. Or not. But pretending it's not there is weird."
Nova set the pencil down, spun her chair to face Elara. "It was... intense. Good intense. But we're roommates. Complications."
"Complications are my brand." Elara stepped closer. "One more kiss. To see if it's a fluke."
Nova stood. Slow. They met in the middle, the space between beds. Elara's hand found Nova's waist, thumb tracing the hem of her hoodie. Nova's fingers threaded into Elara's hair, pulling gently.
Lips met. Softer this time. Exploratory. Tongues brushed, tentative. Elara backed Nova against the desk, papers crumpling. Nova's hands slid under Elara's shirt, palms flat against her back. Skin warm. Goosebumps rose.
They broke apart, foreheads touching. Breathing synced.
"Not a fluke," Nova whispered.
"Nope." Elara grinned. "Pineapple?"
Nova laughed, the sound light and surprised. "Code word accepted."
They kissed again. Deeper. Elara's camera sat on her desk, forgotten for once. Nova's hands explored, mapping curves. Elara tugged Nova's hoodie off, revealing the sports bra beneath. She kissed down Nova's neck, tasting salt from the morning run.
Nova gasped, arched. "Door. Lock it."
Elara complied, twist of the knob. Back to Nova, pushing her onto the bed. Nova's bed. Prist resolute no more. They tumbled, laughing between kisses. Clothes are shed in layers. Elara's tank first, then bra. Nova's eyes darkened at the sight of her breasts, nipples pebbling in the cool air.
"You're staring," Elara teased.
"Can't help it." Nova reached, cupped one. Thumb circled. Elara moaned softly, leaned down to capture Nova's mouth again.
Hands wandered lower. Elara's fingers hooked Nova's jeans button, popped it. Zipper down. Nova lifted her hips, jeans slid off with her underwear. Bare. The scar on her thigh is more visible now, jagged from the track spike that ended everything.
Elara traced it with her tongue. Nova shivered. "Sensitive."
"Good sensitive?" Elara looked up.
"Yeah." Nova's voice is breathy.
Elara continued, kisses trailing inward. Nova's legs parted. Wetness glistened. Elara's mouth watered. She tasted, slow lick. Nova bucked, hand fisting sheets.
The room filled with sounds: gasps, whimpers, the wet slide of tongue. Elara's fingers joined, one then two, curling. Nova's hips rolled, chasing. Tension built, coiling tight.
"Come for me," Elara murmured against her.
Nova shattered. Body taut, cry muffled in pillow. Elara worked her through it, gentle laps until Nova tugged her up.
"Your turn." Nova flipped them, strength surprising. Elara is on her back now. Nova's mouth on her breast, sucking hard. Fingers pinched the other nipple. Elara arched, moaning loudly.
Nova kissed down, settled between Elara's legs. Hesitant at first, then bold. Tongue flat, pressure perfect. Elara's hands in Nova's hair, guiding. Pleasure crested fast, orgasm crashing. She bit her lip to quiet the scream.
They lay tangled after, sweat cooling. Nova's head on Elara's chest.
"That happened," Nova said.
"Yep." Elara stroked her back. "Regrets?"
"None yet." Nova traced patterns on Elara's stomach. "But mango replacement still required."
Elara laughed. "Deal."
They showered sepseparatelyomduring the peak of munal hours peinner in the caf, feet brushing under the table. Accidental. On purpose.
Back in the room, studying resumed. But glances conare stant. Smiles secret.
Elara wrote a poem while Nova sketched.
*Stolen fruit sweeter*
*juice on chin, on fingers*
*your taste lingers still*
She folded it, slipped it into Nova's textbook.
Nova found it later. Read. Blushed. Kissed Elara quiquicklyfore lights out.
The war began small. Elara hid Nova's favfavouriten. Nova swapped Elara's coffee witforcaf. Retaliation escalated. Elara taped a fake spider to Nova's lamp. Nova filled Elara's shoes with rice.
Laughter filled the room. Tension eased into play.
One evening, fridge raid again. Elara eyed the new mango bag. Nova watched from her bed.
"Touch it and suffer," Nova warned, but eyes sparkled.
Elara grabbed one. Peeled sloslowlyuice deliberate on her lips. Nova's gaze fixed.
"Come here." Nova crooked a finger.
Elara obeyed. Mango slice offered. Nova bit, lips brushing fingers. Juice shared in a kiss. Sticky. Sweet.
They ended on the floor, backs against the bed. Mango finished, hands sticky. Elara licked Nova's fingers clean. One by one. Nova returned the favfavourongue thothoroughlyHeat built again. Clothes stayed on this time. Grinding slow. Hips rolling. Orgasms muffled in shoulders.
After, cleanup with wet wipes. Giggles.
"This is insane," Nova said.
"Best kind." Elara nuzzled her neck.
Campus life intruded. Queer mixer Friday. Both going. Separate cars, they decided. Keep it quiet.
But in the room, no quiet. Nights blurred. "Pineapple" whispered bec,ame code for everything. Study breaks. Stress relief. Exploration.
Elara photographed Nova consensually now. Nudes in fairy light. Artistic. Erotic. Nova posewas at first, then bold. Legs spread. Fingers teasing herself for the lens.
Elara developed them in secret. Prints hidden.
Nova sketched Elara sleeping. Curves exaggerated. Sensual.
They shared the art. Aroused by their own images.
The war peaked. Elara replaced all Novaof 's yoguyoghurth pudding. Nova retaliated by labelabellingry item in the fridge with Elara's name in sharSharpieruce called over shared pudding cups. Spoons clinking.
"We're idiots," Nova said.
"You're an idiot." Elara bumped shoulders.
Nova's anxiety flared mid-week. Group project gone wrong. She paced the room, breathing shallow.
Elara pulled her down. "Breathe with me."
In two, hold, out two. Hands on chests. Hearts syncing.
Panic ebbed. Replaced by tenderness. Slow sex then. Missionary. Eyes locked. Whispers of comfort.
"I got you," Elara said.
Nova came tearful. Happy tears.
Bond deepened. Beyond lust.
Friday. Mixer night. They dressed separate. Elara in black dress, combat boots. Nova in button-up, slacks. Professional sexy.
"See you there?" Elara asked at the door.
"Maybe." Nova winked.
The venue: campus center basement. Rainbow lights. Music thumping. Bodies dancing.
Elara arrived first. Grabbed a drink. Scanned the crowd.
Nova entered later. Eyes found Elara across the room. Smile electric.
They pretended allies. Chatted in groups. Flirted subtle.
Dance floor called. Elara pulled Nova in. Bodies close. Hips swaying. Hands on waists.
Song slowed. They pressed closer. Kiss risked. Quick. Hidden in shadows.
Back to dorm. Urgent. Clothes ripped. Sex against the door. Then bed. Multiple rounds. Exhausted sleep.
Morning. Nova's phone buzzed. Text from track coach. Comeback race next month. Opportunity.
Elara watched her read. "You gonna?"
"Maybe." Nova bit lip. "Scared."
"I'll be there. Screaming loudest."
Nova kissed her. Grateful.
The mango war ended. Replaced by something sweeter. Deeper.
But rumors started. Whispers in halls. "Gal pals" they called them.
Let them talk. The fridge stayed shared. Hearts too.