Chapter 1: Classroom
Chapter Text
You had first met Anya in your second year medical school. She was a bright, shining brilliant light in the bleak world of academia. The only saving grace among the abundance of sleepiness nights, mind-numbing textbooks, the droning of self-assured professors, and most importantly, heaps and heaps of ramen.
You remember the exact moment you met like it was yesterday. Anya was a classmate in your epidemiology class. You were running late on the first day. Not the best look for a new semester, but then again it was the *second* semester, and winter break had been much, much too short. You had overslept your damn alarm, unable to fit breakfast since paychecks from your seasonal job were all but dried up. You had nothing quick on hand to eat, knowing gas was decidedly more important than buying granola bars. It was hard not to miss the comforting taste of oaks, peanut butter, and chocolate all rolled up into one delicious “meal.”
Having finally arrived at class practically spirit the entire way, you were exhausted, sweaty, and starving. A full 20 minutes late. Clearly, running wasn’t your strongest suit. The door to the classroom stood in front of you, foreboding, “abandon hope ye hope who enters here.” Okay, that was a little dramatic, but you knew everyone was going to silently judge and whip their heads around to stare at you the second you entered. It was a small class, not even 20 people, filled with nurses and aspiring doctors alike.
Your university was a small one, a failing one at that. A quiet, sleepy town in the middle of butt fuck nowhere surrounded by mountains certainly didn’t have students from around the area clamoring to apply. There were rumors of a shut down of the graduate-level programs due to a lack of funding.
The higher ups, scrambling to save the sad little school, decided the best solution was to merge and join the nursing and medical school classes shared together. It was a bandage to an overarching irreversible problem, but it was nice to see unfamiliar faces and make new connections with the fellow nursing students. You tried not to think of the impact the potential dissolution of the school would have on your future medical career.
You stood outside of the door for what felt like hours, hands shaking slightly and clammy. Now it was time to stop acting like a pussy and to get onto it. You place your hand on the door handle. Nothing happened. Easier said than done. How about on the count of three. One… two…
The door swung open. Startled, you shot backwards, taking two steps back. You tripped on your worn albeit favorite pair of tennis shoes. You might have been able to steady yourself, but a backpack so heavy it might as well be lead propelled your momentum backwards. Guaranteeing an embarrassing fall onto the ground. You hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much. If the backpack weighs so damn much, it should at the very least cushion your fall. You closed your eyes, bracing for impact.
Except, that anticipated display of humiliation never happened. Instead, two hands shot out, catching your shoulders. A steady grasp prevented you from toppling over, extending a lifeline and bringing your center of gravity back to its midpoint.
“Are you okay?” A female voice asked. Although the speaker sounded startled, their mellow cadence immediately calmed you. Their voice… It was like nothing you had ever heard before. The only way you could describe it was a long lost comfort you had lost ages ago, but were only just reunited with in the most unlikely of circumstances. You want nothing more to be enveloped by, transported into a world where only you and the owner of the voice existed. If only you knew what she looked like, darkness with weird spots of indistinguishable lights the only thing you could make out.
Right. Your eyes were still screwed shut. You opened them, blinking away the sudden brightness. Before you was a woman of relatively medium stature. Her hair was shoulder length and straight, an ebony black that glowed brilliantly in the blinkering fluorescent lightning (they really should have replaced that bulb ages ago). You were pretty sure it was a complication of the sleep deprivation, but in the briefest of moments you were sure you saw an abundance of the bright and twinkling stars encased in her glossy locks.
Her eyes were downcast, warm. Yet you couldn’t help but feel they were hiding a deep embedded melancholy that startled you. At that moment, you wanted nothing else in the world more to take it all away forever.
Quite frankly, she was the most beautiful woman you have ever met. You were immediately stricken, heart pitter-pattering in a thousand of simultaneously erratic movements that you were certain a heart attack must feel like if weren’t for the warmth pooling in your belly.
“Are you okay?” She repeated the words more slowly this time, gently shaking you a bit. You blinked rapidly.
“Oh yes!” You shot back, sheepishly rubbing the back of your head. You immediately mourned the loss of contact, wished you had had more foresight to at least remain in her grasp a couple of seconds later. “Sorry, uh yeah I’m perfectly fine.” You were perfectly fine now with her by your side, at least.
She arched an eyebrow, her hands slowly returning to her side. She remained close, like she was expecting you to fall over at any moment. God, she must have thought you were a klutz. So much for a good first impression. Your checks flushed with embarrassment.
“Are you sure? You have been standing at the door for over five minutes.” She did not sound convinced.
Five minutes? Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. The woman (of your dreams) looked even more concerned by your expression, as if her fears were confirmed. You couldn’t have her thinking that you were some sort of nutcase!
Surely that wasn’t the case, you couldn’t have been standing outside the door for more than a minute. Then again you had the clothing shift the night before. Right after working another shift at your second job. You had hardly managed to get any sleep the night before.
Maybe, two, three hours tops. Time always seemed to slip more loosely whenever you were especially sleep deprived, your body losing its grasp on any semblance of time awareness. Turning it into an intangible concept that you were unable to see or behold. Sometimes, the best that would happen was that you would lmk lose track of hours at most, a hazy ghost of a string of memories you could hardly recall replacing it altogether. Other times, the entire day had gone by, nothing more than a haze of static were a string of memories should have been. /p>
While you were having a full-blown panic attack on the inside, you did your best at schooled your facial features into a more neutral expression. You were leaning nonchalantly (who were you kidding, it was awkward as hell) on the brick wall. Your backpack slid, causing you to lose your balance and wobble a bit. Her hands shot back out, but you righted yourself just in time. You shook your head, refusing her help.
To prevent another mishap, yoh straightened your back as much as you could, forgoing the wall completely. She still eyed you wearily, but it did the trick because she lowered her hand.
“Oh, yeah… I was like trying to figure out if this was the right room. I have never been on this side of the building before. This is the epidemiology classroom, right?” You took a double take at the room number, trying to play it cool.
“Yes,” She nodded. “Class started around fifthteen minutes ago.” She took a glance at the classroom. You followed her eyes. A thousand eyes were staring back at you. Even the professor had stopped the whole syllabus spiel, a large rod that pointed towards the still projected image on the whiteboard.
Without warning, she leaned towards your ear, whispering conspiracy. She was so close that you could feel her warm breath against your ear. It tickled. You almost squirmed from the intimacy of it all. “My name’s Anya, by the way. There’s an open seat next to mine, if you would like to sit next to me…” Her eyes drifted towards a corner of the class with a light black jacket draped over it, notebook, a stack of Post-its, and pen neatly upon the desk. The other seat was vacant.
“Yes,” you whispered back instantly, no hesitation. You smiled. It was the first time in a long time you had smiled genuinely, that brightly. Anya returned it. She had the cutest little gap between her two front teeth. You briefly wondered what it would feel like to run your tongue against it…
You don’t know why, but you offered her your hand. You weren’t usually this bold, so you too were shocked by this. She stared at it, bewildered. You shared the same look. Like you both were staring at it like an alien that suddenly. Realizing your mistake, you sucked in a quick breath.
You tried discreetly slipping it away. Before it reached your pocket, Anya grasped it. Not tightly or roughly, but in a tender, reverent sort took of way. This time, you made sure to memorize the softness of her palm against your own, every wrinkle and crevice. To savor the skin-to-skin contact she this angel of a woman graciously bestowed you. You walked into class, together. What would soon turn into the first of many times to come.
The rest of that particular class was a blur. An insignificant blimp stored in your brain that you had long ago had forgotten. What you did recall was the smell of her floral perfume,a fluttering in your chest when the professor announced that the seats chosen that class would be permanent for the rest of the semester, a question, emboldened by the calmness you felt right next to her side allowed you to blurt out: “Would you like to be my study partner?”
Chapter 2: Blueberry Pancakes
Summary:
An unexpected problem arises for the reader and Anya.
Basically one of the few fluffy chapters y’all are going to get. Goes down hill from here.
TW: NSFW heavily implied/some steamy interactions between the reader and Anya 👀
Notes:
Hey y’all.
Sorry this took so long to update. Life got in the way + my beta writer and I didn’t end up working out due to scheduling differences. I might just raw dog it from here on out lol. My plan is to update more consistently once I get more of my outlines finished. When that occurs is anyone guess 🥀
Chapter Text
Two years, six months, and 6 days after you first met the love of your life, your beloved little school had finally shut down. The news had come on a Sunday morning in July. Two months before the start of the new school year.
The weather had been beautiful. A sunny, warm Sunday day. Your cramped apartment was insufferably hot during the summer, so a window was also cracked open upon Anya’s insistence. “Potential robbers be damned,” she always liked to say. A mourning dove crooned in the nearby oak tree, awakening you from your slummer. “Anya… close the window.” You groaned, patting around the bed sleepily to wake her up.
The bed was empty. Only a dent in her side of the bed where her body should be. You started, your stomach somersaulting violently. She almost always woke after you.
Scratch that.
She always woke up after you after a night shift at the hospital. You scrambled out of bed, hastily strewn about after a late night fornication at her insistence. You clumsy threw on your clothes, your shorts backwards and t-shirt inside out. You were preparing to sprint to the front door when a smell hit your smack in the face.
The smell of your favorite breakfast dish. You would recognize it from anywhere. Pancakes, with a tang of saccharine syrup. A smidgen of drool dripped from your mouth. You wiped it away, breaking out of your frantic trance. That’s why Anya was gone. She was simply making breakfast while you assumed the worse of her. What a fool you were to doubt the devotion you shared between each one. A love that guaranteed that she would never leave you.
You made sure of that.
You causally made your way in the kitchen. Anya was a sight to behold. Pancake batter was all over her tattered stripped pajamas, even in edges of hair. She was humming a song, one that was both melancholic but bittersweet. Probably something from the Smiths, if you had to venture. She plopped a handful of blueberries in a large pancake that was cooking on the stovetop.
She hadn’t noticed you yet, too engrossed in the whirlwind of her pancake-creationism. You wrapped your arms around her chest, pressing your lips to her throat. “Babe!” She startled slightly, taken off guard. “You can’t scare me like that…”
You hummed in acknowledgment, running your teeth excruciatingly slow until it was at the base of her throat. You nipped it tenderly, careful not to damage the thin skin. Her pulse drummed rapidly against your lips. Anya dropped the remaining blueberries to the floor, letting out a breathy curse.
“Look what you made me do.” You smiled innocently, shrugging. “Asshole.” She pushed you away, giggling. Reaching down to grab to the blueberries, she bent down as low as she could, arching her ass in a way that she knew would drive you wild.
She gathered the fallen berries slowly, making sure to prolong the view. “Make sure your pancake doesn’t burn.” Right. Your eyes reluctantly trailed to the cooking batter.
You couldn’t let such a perfectly crafted pancake go to waste. Especially one made by her. You had to practically had to tear your eyes away to locate and flip the pancake with a scapula.
Raising from the floor, Anya discarded the blueberries in the trash. She grabbed another one from the container. She threw it at your face. You caught it your mouth. You chewed it, the flavor bursting in your mouth.
“Delicious, thanks for the appetizer, my love.” You winked, smiling triumphantly. She pushed you, nose shrived up in mock disgust.
Anya own smile matching betrayed her true feelings. “You’re insufferable, I hope you know that.”
You shrugged. Guilty as charged. “So, why on earth are you up so early?” You asked casually, meticulously keeping your tone as light and nonchalant as you could muster.
You keep your eyes on the cooking pancake, forcing your eyes downwards in case she could possibly detect any hint of unease on your face. It would serve you no purpose to let her catch on to your anxiety.
The cooking batter bubbled. A good distraction to keep your own effervescence fears at bay. You could already feel a gnawing panic frothing over the edges of your subconsciousness. You bit down on your lip, hard. Anything to keep it from flooding and dominating your thoughts completely.
The spatula disappeared from your hands. Instead, a multitude of blueberry pancakes appeared. Anya wrapped your arms around her waist, resting her head over on the crook of your shoulder. “You’re going to need to sit down for this,” she whispered against you. You felt your heart drop into your stomach.
——————————————————————-
You sat on the couch together. Your head on her lap, her fingers gently stroking your hair. A half-eaten pancake left discarded on the coffee table. You hadn’t much of an appetite.
It was there that Anya broke the news that you both had dreading to hear. Your beloved, dilapidated little university was closing down. For good. The official announcement would be made later that afternoon. She had gotten the inside scope from one her fellow nurses during her previous shift.
Anya didn’t even have to mention the nurse’s name. You already knew who it was. Melissa Albrecht. A certified bitch and former tormenter of Anya’s. An annoyance that you had quickly made sure learned the error of her ways.
Part of you was glad they were on good enough terms to diverge that information to Anya. Another part seethed at the thought that vapid harpy had the audacity to talk to her in the first place.
Still, it didn’t take a genius to realize Melissa’s worth. She was a hotbed of relatable information. Melissa’s father sat on your university board of director, a prime position to know about all the ins and outs and all manners concerning your university. A useful tool you extorted from her for nearly two years.
According to Melissa, the final vote had been cast between shareholders the night before on whether or not to cease operations. Due to the dwindling applications, lack of funds compounded with the misuse of resources, the board to decided to cut their losses and shut down your university once and for all.
It would be demolished sometime in the next year. An official email would be sent sometime early afternoon with all the nitty gritty details (and some sort of bullshit condolence message).
So you and Anya sat there, together, waiting anxiously for the news to come. Too distracted to watch the flashing tv that was playing a randomly chosen episode of “The Office.” Taking comfort in the idea that no matter what happened, you would be together. Nothing else truly mattered other than that.
SsethEnjoyer on Chapter 1 Tue 14 Jan 2025 03:27AM UTC
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clinquantlilacs on Chapter 1 Tue 14 Jan 2025 05:11AM UTC
Last Edited Tue 14 Jan 2025 05:11AM UTC
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Dummy_love7 on Chapter 1 Sat 14 Jun 2025 08:01AM UTC
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clinquantlilacs on Chapter 1 Thu 03 Jul 2025 06:15AM UTC
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SsethEnjoyer on Chapter 2 Thu 03 Jul 2025 04:37AM UTC
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clinquantlilacs on Chapter 2 Thu 03 Jul 2025 06:19AM UTC
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