Cassius
What Happy Feels Like
A week.
It’s only been a week since I walked into my dorm, shut the door, and made my best friend more than that. One week since “I love you” slipped out of her mouth and changed everything. One week since I finally got to touch her the way I’ve been picturing for four years. And now I’m a lost cause.
I can’t stop touching her. I don’t even pretend to try anymore. Every time we’re in the same room, my hands find her like they’re magnetized—her knee, her hip, the back of her neck. Half the time I don’t realize I’m doing it until she gives me that soft smile that kills me.
Right now, she’s straddling my lap on her dorm bed, kissing me like she’s trying to make up for the last four years in one night.
Not that I’m complaining.
Her fingers are in my hair, tugging enough to make my pulse jump. Her mouth is hot and insistent against mine. I slide my hands up under the back of her shirt, brushing my fingers lightly along her spine, and feel her shiver against me.
“You’re gonna make me fail my midterms,” I murmur against her lips.
“You don’t even have midterms yet,” she mutters back, rolling her hips once like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. “Stop being dramatic.”
“Sunshine,” I warn, tightening my grip on her waist as she presses closer, “you have no idea what you’re starting.”
“I have every idea,” she counters, all smug, kissing the corner of my mouth and chasing it with another. “That’s the fun part.”
I’m about to prove to her exactly how much fun when the door flies open.
“Yo, Za—oh my God.”
Zae squeaks and jerks back. I blink, disoriented, as Riley stands in the doorway holding a protein shake and a bag of chips, looking personally victimized.
“You guys are disgusting,” she announces, though her mouth twitches. “I love this for you, but also, I hate it for me.”
Zae groans and drops her forehead onto my shoulder. “Knock, you fiend.”
“It’s my room too,” Riley throws out, stepping in to grab something off her desk. “I live here. I did not, however, consent to secondhand horny.”
“You walked in on us once,” Zae points out, voice muffled against my shirt. “You’ll live.”
“Once?” Riley snorts. “Try four times. I’m starting to feel like the chaperone in a very badly supervised YA show.”
I can’t help it. A laugh slips out of me.
Riley tosses Zae a look. “You have ten minutes before I come back and start spraying Lysol.”
“Twenty,” Zae bargains automatically.
“Fifteen.”
“Done,” Zae says, way too fast.
Riley smirks. “Thought so.” She points at me with her shake. “Wrap it before you tap it, lover boy.”
My face goes hot as Zae chokes on a shocked laugh, and Riley just cackles her way out the door, closing it behind her.
There’s silence for just a second before Zae loses it.
She tips back, laughing so hard she nearly slides off my lap. I catch her around the waist, brushing my fingers lightly across her stomach to keep her steady.
“Oh my God,” she gasps. “Her face. Cass, did you see her face?”
“Kind of busy trying not to die over here,” I murmur, but I’m smiling too. It’s impossible not to when she laughs like that. It’s loud and genuine and a little unhinged.
Her cheeks are flushed, eyes bright, hair a mess from my hands. She looks happy. Really happy. And it hits me right in the chest.
“I love this,” she admits suddenly, softer now, fingers tracing the collar of my shirt. “The week before last was… weird.”
Yeah. I know exactly what week she means.
The party. The punch. The silence. And then the night she shook as I held her while she told me about her mom and the tub and the blood and all the ways the world failed her. I tighten my arms around her, like I can hold all of that for her for a second.
“Me too,” I agree quietly. “I don’t wanna do that again.”
“The fight or the silence?” she asks.
“Both,” I answer simply. “We can argue. We’re good at arguing. But I don’t want there to be days where I don’t know if you’re okay. Where I’m waiting on your roommate for updates like some creeper.”
She winces. “Sorry. I—”
“Stop,” I cut in gently, brushing my fingers under her chin to tip her face up. “We’ve apologized. We’re good. You talk to me now. I talk to you. We deal. Yeah?”
She searches my face for a second, then nods.
“Yeah,” she echoes. “We deal.”
Her smile returns, wobbly but real. She leans in to kiss me again, quick but soft. Then she pulls back with a sigh.
“Okay, we really should stop. I don’t want Riley staging an exorcism on us.”
“Zero respect,” I mutter, though I gently set my forehead against hers for one more second. “What do you wanna do then?”
She thinks, tapping her fingers against my chest.
“Skate?” she suggests. “I feel like my brain’s buzzing. I need to move.”
“Skating I can do,” I say. “Before I do something that gets me banned from the dorms.”
She grins. “Tempting.”
“Don’t test me, Sunshine.”
She slides off my lap with a playful roll of her eyes, grabbing her hoodie and her board. I grab mine and follow her out, her fingers linking with mine in the hallway like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world.
Maybe because it is.
We push off from the dorm and coast down the path, the wind cool and sharp against my face. Zae crouches low over her board for a second, picking up speed, then straightens with her arms stretched out for balance.
She looks… free. And I fucking love it.
“Race you to the fountain!” she calls over her shoulder.
“You’re gonna eat it,” I shout back, but she’s already flying.
I kick off harder, chasing after her. People call out as we pass—little pieces of campus life flowing around us. Someone yells “watch out,” another laughs when Zae swerves around a trash can at the last second.
She reaches the fountain first, of course, hopping off and spinning her board up into her hand like she’s done a thousand times. I roll up a few seconds later, stopping beside her.
“Cheater,” I say, slightly breathless.
“Loser,” she counters with a smug little smirk. She taps the nose of her board against mine. “You’re supposed to be the athletic one.”
“You distracted me,” I accuse, brushing my fingers along her elbow as we move to a patch of grass. “Unfair advantage.”
She plops down on the grass, leaning back on her hands, and I settle in behind her, immediately, pulling her between my legs so her back is resting against my chest because that’s just where she fits now. Her head tips back onto my shoulder with a little sigh.
“Okay, this is nice,” she murmurs.
“Yeah,” I agree, brushing my fingers along her thigh lightly. “This part can stay forever.”
We sit like that for a while, letting the noise of campus wash over us. Cars in the distance, voices, someone playing bad guitar on the quad. Zae hums along to something only she can hear for a second.
Which prompts me to ask, “How’s your head today?”
She knows what I mean.
She considers before admitting, “Foggy. But not drowning. The life jacket is… functioning.”
I huff out a little laugh. “Good. I’ll staple it to you if I have to.”
“That sounds painful.”
“You’d complain the whole time,” I agree. “It’d be adorable.”
She nudges my shin with her heel. “You’re an idiot.”
“Your idiot,” I remind her, brushing my nose against the back of her head. “Unfortunately for you.”
“Tragically.” Her voice is fond, and it does something warm to my ribs.
By the time we skate back toward the dorms, the sun is dipping low and the air’s cooled enough to raise goosebumps on her arms.
She rubs at them and I immediately shrug out of my hoodie, tugging it over her head before she can argue.
“Cass,” she protests, muffled, as her face gets stuck in the neck hole. “I have a hoodie.”
“Mine is better,” I say, brushing my fingers along her ribs to help her find an armhole. “It smells like me.”
“That’s not a selling point,” she argues, finally popping her head through. She inhales once, then makes a face. “Ugh. It does smell like you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She rolls her eyes but tugs it tighter around herself, and I can immediately tell she doesn’t plan on giving it back.
We drop our boards off in my room and she follows me straight to the communal bathroom.
The second the door closes behind us, she pokes me in the chest.
“This is a bad idea.”
“You’ve been saying that all week,” I remind her, brushing my fingers along her hip as I herd her toward the showers. “And yet, here we are.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Yours,” I say without hesitation. “You’re irresistible.”
She stares at me for a second, unsuccessfully trying not to smile. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“I can. And I will.”
She shakes her head almost exasperated, but her cheeks are pink and her eyes are warm.
We duck into the far stall, the one with the curtain that actually closes all the way. I hook it shut and then we’re alone in the small tiled space.
She leans back against the wall, looking at me with that mix of challenge and nerves. “Last chance. We can still be responsible. Shower separately. You know, not get banned from the building.”
“We shouldn’t do this,” I agree, stepping in closer. I brush my fingers lightly along her jaw, tilting her head up. “It’s reckless. Risky. Probably stupid.”
Her breath catches as our bodies line up, her hands automatically finding my waist.
“And yet?” she prompts.
“And yet,” I murmur, kissing the corner of her mouth, “I’m gonna do it anyway unless you tell me no.”
She swallows, curling her fingers into the hem of my shirt.
“I’m not saying no,” she whispers.
That’s all I need.
I kiss her like I’ve been waiting all day. All week. All fucking year. She kisses back just as hard, her hands sliding up my chest, brushing her fingers along the back of my neck as she pulls me closer. The curtain rustles softly behind her as her shoulders bump it.
I tug her hoodie and shirt up and she lifts her arms without thinking, laughing under her breath when the fabric gets stuck over her face for a second.
“Graceful,” I tease, helping free her. I brush my fingers lightly along her ribs as her clothes hit the floor, and I feel her shiver.
“Shut up,” she says weakly.
“Make me.”