Archive of Our Own ^beta

After Riri’s brief approach to Mary—just to tell her they needed to be somewhere else—the two now walked the quiet halls of Saint Dominiques. The path was unfamiliar to Mary; she’d never been to this part of the school before.

It was just the two of them, leaving behind the noise and glitter of the gala. Mary trailed behind Riri, her steps light but her thoughts loud. Questions spun endlessly in her mind—why had Riri chosen her as her date tonight?After a few minutes of walking, Riri finally stopped. Mary’s thoughts stilled as Riri opened a door and gestured for her to step inside.

Mary did and froze.

The room was enchanting. Dozens of lit candles flickered gently, casting soft, golden glows along the walls. Dried flowers were placed thoughtfully around the space, delicate and beautiful. At the center stood a small table set for two, covered dishes waiting to be uncovered and enjoyed.

As Mary continued to take it all in, a soft melody began to play from a vintage vinyl player Riri had prepared. The atmosphere shifted—calm, intimate.
Riri motioned for her to sit. Mary obeyed, quietly settling into her chair as Riri took the seat across from her. They were now face to face.

Mary stayed silent, but her mind was anything but. She looked at the masked girl across from her, searching her face for a flicker of emotion, a sign, anything she could read.
But as always, Riri’s expression remained unreadable.
Only her eyes gave her away—and they were saying everything Mary couldn’t yet understand.

"I don’t like games, Riri."

Silence. The girl simply stared back at her.

"You know what I mean," Mary added, her voice edged with frustration.

She scoffed, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Why did you ask me out tonight?"

Her voice quivered, just a little—betraying the fear beneath her words.

"You were never interested in me when I was on the council," she continued, a touch more vulnerable now.

"So what changed?"

Riri’s gaze didn’t waver. Her eyes, deep and unreadable, seemed to carry more weight than her silence. And finally, she spoke.

"You."

Just one word. A whisper, soft—but it landed heavy.
Mary blinked, unsure if she heard right, staring at Riri with searching eyes.

"Ever since you lost your position," Riri continued, "it’s like… you finally took off the mask you used to wear."

Mary gave a small, ironic scoff—how strange, coming from a girl who literally wore a mask.

Riri leaned forward slightly, her voice steady now.

"You’ve been the real you. And for once, my mind isn't confused by you… it understands you."

There was silence again.

Mary could only stare down at her food now. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it—Riri was right.

Ever since that moment she lost to Yumeko, something had shifted inside her. She had begun to accept a part of herself she'd kept buried for so long—the side that was afraid of losing, but even more afraid of never being her true self. The version of her she'd hidden since stepping foot in Saint Dominiques.Back then, she believed survival meant staying guarded. Hiding the kindness she was raised with behind a mask of indifference and pride.

Now, both girls sat eating quietly, the silence not awkward—but full. Mary wasn’t expecting Riri to say more. She never did. She was known for being a girl of few, or no, words. And yet, what she had said stuck with Mary.

"I understand you."

That sentence alone had left her stunned.
She glanced up, only to see Riri finishing the last bites of her meal. And that’s when she noticed—
The mask was gone.

Mary stared.

Without it, Riri looked entirely different. Breathtaking, even. Her skin was soft and pale, her lips delicately pink, her features sharp and captivating. The absence of the mask made her seem more human—and somehow, more untouchable.

Riri was about to place her fork down when Mary suddenly moved. Her hand reached forward, almost instinctively, and brushed against Riri’s cheek—then hovered near her lips.
Riri froze, startled by the sudden closeness. Her breath caught in her throat.

“There’s something in your mouth,” Mary said softly.

She gently wiped the edge of Riri’s lip. It was a simple gesture, yet far too intimate. As Mary looked into her eyes, realization struck her. Her own eyes widened, aware of what she'd just done—what it meant.

The stain was gone now. But her fingers didn’t move away.

Instead, her thumb lightly grazed the other corner of Riri’s lips. Her gaze was fixed—captivated by how soft they looked, how close they were now.

Mary’s eyes slowly lifted to meet Riri’s.

A soft flush bloomed across Riri’s cheeks. A delicate shade of red, subtle but impossible to miss.
The moment stretched—fragile, electric.
The room felt colder now, or maybe time had slowed. Either way, something had shifted between them.

Mary finally snapped out of it, withdrawing her hand like she’d just touched a flame.

Her mind was screaming. What had she just done?

A mix of regret and something dangerously close to satisfaction swirled inside her.
Meanwhile, Riri remained frozen—clearly caught off guard. No one had ever dared to touch her like that before. Especially not in that way. And though it was unfamiliar, it didn’t feel wrong.
It felt… new.

But not unwelcome.

Surprisingly, Mary’s touch had felt warm.

It shouldn’t have meant anything—but it did. It brought comfort. A strange, unfamiliar comfort that Riri didn’t know she’d been craving. That simple gesture stirred something deeper inside her. Something that made her want more.

Now, as she looked at Mary—who sat stiffly, avoiding her gaze—Riri noticed how guilt clouded her features. She looked frustrated. Ashamed, maybe. Like she regretted losing her composure.
Mary stood suddenly, likely intending to leave, but stopped in her tracks when a cold hand gently wrapped around her wrist.

"Stay," Riri said.

Her voice was soft but clear, and though laced with nervousness, it held a quiet urgency.
Mary turned to her. Riri didn’t let go. Instead, she gave her wrist the lightest tug, guiding her toward the small sofa just a few steps from the table.
They sat in silence—only the soft melody from the vinyl and their breathing filled the space.
Mary’s mind raced. The quiet between them felt heavier than before, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

"What you said earlier," she began, turning toward Riri, "that you understand me... Why?"

Riri didn’t answer right away. Her eyes stayed on the wall, then lowered to the floor, to her toes. Another silence. But Mary didn’t look away—she waited.

"Because I care about you," Riri finally said.

She exhaled deeply, not out of exhaustion—but release. Like she'd freed something she'd kept buried far too long.
Riri turned to Mary And for the first time, Mary’s composure cracked. Her face remained still, but her eyes brimmed with something unspoken—then a single tear rolled down her cheek.
Riri instinctively reached for her—to wipe the tear, to offer comfort—but Mary turned her face away, her shoulders tensing.

That simple rejection stung more than it should have. Riri froze, her hand suspended in the space between them. She ached to tell her that everything was okay, that she didn’t need to be afraid—but in that moment, she wasn’t sure if she had the right.

"Why do you care about me?" Mary asked, her voice shaking.

"We don’t do that here in Saint Dominiques."

Still, Riri said nothing. There were so many reasons—so many words she wanted to give Mary—but her throat felt tight,
her thoughts tangled. She hated feeling this powerless, watching Mary come undone in front of her.
All she could do was reach for her hand. With trembling fingers, she placed her hand gently over Mary’s, rubbing slow circles along her knuckles.
Her rings were cold, but her touch was careful—grounding.
And Mary didn’t pull away.

Eventually, her crying subsided. She let Riri hold her hand, feeling the contrast of warmth and chill, pressure and tenderness. She noticed then—Riri was looking at her.
And when she turned to meet her gaze, Mary saw it all. Worry. Longing. Something deeper.

"I care about you…" Riri said, barely above a whisper.
Her eyes didn't move away.

"Because I love you."

Mary stopped breathing.

The confession struck her like lightning—sudden, silent, and irreversible. She sat frozen, eyes locked with Riri’s, who, despite appearing composed,
was beginning to show cracks beneath the surface. Emotions stirred in her gaze, raw and unhidden. The air between them tightened, like a magnetic force tethering them together.

"I don’t know when it started," Riri said softly, her voice barely above the music playing in the background.

"When I was a kid... the only thing I knew was that I had to be independent. I had to show no emotion. Kira and I were taught to be sharp like daggers, not soft like clouds."
She paused, eyes lowering for a moment.

"This feeling… it was foreign. It bugged me. I thought maybe it was just because I saw myself in you. But over time—every time I saw you alone, hurting, distant—something deeper started to grow. And it scared me. Because we Timurovs… we’re not allowed to feel this. To love. To care." Her voice cracked slightly now, quiet but filled with everything she had held back for so long.

"I tried to fight it. I really did. But even in my dreams, my mind and heart keep calling your name, Mary."

She drew in a shaky breath.

"This feeling—it’s driving me insane. I couldn’t keep standing still and doing nothing. So I gathered my courage, tonight, to tell you this."
Riri looked straight into her eyes now.

"I don’t need you to want me. I’m not asking for anything in return. I just want you to know… that there’s someone here willing to gamble her life away for you."

"I only ask one thing: let me be there for you. Don’t push me away."

Mary’s tears began to fall again—quiet, steady, unstoppable.

She didn’t know how to process it. Riri’s words cut through her, unraveling pieces she had buried deep. She had always felt undeserving of love—especially a love so honest, so fearless. She wasn’t a legacy. She was a former council member who’d lost everything. In her mind, she was just… a nobody. Full of flaws and failures. And yet, in Riri’s presence, with her gaze and her words, she felt something shift.

Maybe, just maybe… amidst all the chaos, they could create something real. Something that could give them both a place to breathe.

Riri reached up again, this time gently brushing away Mary’s tears. And Mary let her. Riri’s hand lingered on her cheek, then cradled it fully. Her other hand rose too, both now cupping Mary’s face with a softness that made her heart ache. Slowly, Riri leaned forward, resting her forehead against Mary’s. Her eyes were closed, her breath steady.

Mary, on the other hand, felt the warmth surrounding her like a blanket she didn’t know she needed.
Even though her mind screamed to stay in the moment, Mary lifted Riri’s hands off her face. But the closeness didn’t fade.
Instead, Mary leaned in further, hovering just inches from her. She traced every line of Riri’s face with her eyes—memorizing her.

Their noses touched.

Riri sat frozen, tense, trying to hold eye contact but failing. Her gaze dropped—fixating on Mary’s chest, rising and falling rapidly.
Both of them were breathing hard, and each breath against bare skin only heightened the tension in the room.
Mary was practically above her now, supporting herself on the couch. An inch—only one inch—separated them from a kiss.
They stayed like that, suspended in a moment that felt endless.

Then Riri murmured something.

Mary’s lips curled into a teasing smile.

"What was that?" she asked, breathless. "Didn’t catch that."

Riri blinked, flustered.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

Mary tilted her head playfully, her voice dipping into a smirk.

"Could you repeat that again?"

"Kiss me," Riri repeated, her voice just loud enough to reach her.

Mary tilted her head, a glint of mischief in her eye.

"Is that an order?"

Riri gave a small nod—firm, but nervous.

Mary placed her hand gently on Riri’s chest before leaning in. Their lips met, and the world around them blurred. Riri lost her balance, falling back as Mary followed, pressing closer. Her hands slid up to the back of Mary’s neck, pulling her in, wanting her closer—needing her. Mary smiled against her lips, her own hands trailing down Riri’s shoulders, over her back, until they reached her waist. Her nails pressed into the fabric, a sign of the storm brewing beneath her calm. Riri could barely breathe—but she didn’t care. The thought of pulling away felt unbearable.

Her fingers moved to Mary’s hair, threading through it, gently tugging. And then, as much as she hated to break the kiss, Riri tilted her head, trailing slow, deliberate kisses along Mary’s jaw and down her neck. Mary gasped, caught between a protest and a plea for more. Her breathing hitched when Riri’s lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear, tracing it with gentle flicks of her tongue.
Riri smiled at the response, her own breath warm against Mary’s skin as she whispered soft words of affection—low and reverent.

In one fluid motion, Riri shifted, guiding Mary gently into her lap. Her hands traced along Mary’s back and down to her hips, resting at her thighs, holding her there like she belonged.
When their lips found each other again, the kiss deepened. Mary responded with urgency, her hands sliding along Riri’s arms, feeling the shape of her strength, holding onto her shoulders and clinging there with growing need. They parted for air, breathless and flushed. A delicate string of warmth hung between them—silent, golden, fleeting.
Mary smirked, leaning in close to Riri’s ear.

"It’s my turn now," she whispered.

With a kiss to her cheek, Mary reversed their positions, taking her time with featherlight kisses along Riri’s throat. There were teasing glances, playful nips that made Riri shudder. Her grip on Mary’s thigh tightened with every motion.
They were entirely caught in the moment, their breathing and hearts in sync—until the sudden, shrill ring of a phone cut through the quiet.
Both froze.

"Bzzzz. Bzzzz."

The vibrating hum of their phones broke through the quiet.
It was strange—both of their phones going off at once.

With a groan, Riri reached into her small bag and pulled out her phone. Kira’s name flashed on the screen.
Still straddling her lap, Mary rested her chin lightly on Riri’s shoulder as she checked her own phone. She was already typing, face dimly lit by the screen.
Riri ignored the call, letting the phone ring out. She didn’t want to be pulled back into the world just yet. This moment, fragile and fleeting, was something she wanted to savor before it inevitably disappeared.

Meanwhile, Mary’s phone lit up with a flood of texts from Michael, accompanied by several missed calls from a frantic Ryan.
While the two of them were wrapped in their private world, chaos had clearly erupted back at the gala.

Without their knowledge, Yumeko had just lost a high-stakes bet to Ryan—and had been declared a house pet. The news was already spreading like wildfire.
Mary’s brows furrowed as she read through the messages, and then she sighed, typing back quickly. “I’m coming.”

Riri, sensing the moment slipping away, gently lifted Mary off her lap and guided her to sit beside her on the sofa. She turned to look at her—flushed cheeks, slightly smudged lipstick, and a few drops of sweat glistening at her temple. With a soft smile, Riri reached out and wiped the lipstick from Mary’s cheek. Mary chuckled, clearly flustered, and then returned the favor—dabbing gently at the corner of Riri’s mouth.

They both took a moment to smooth their hair, straighten their clothes, and quietly rebuild the image of control they would need to wear once they stepped back into the world.
The storm they’d shared just moments ago now tucked away like a secret.

Hand in hand, they walked down the hall—steps steady, breath aligned.
Just before they reached the entrance to the gala, Mary stopped. She turned to Riri, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. It was light, but full of unspoken meaning.
Then, without another word, they parted—each walking into the fire of the crowd, hearts still carrying the warmth of where they’d just been.