Chapter Text
“I knew this was a bad idea!” Nova squealed, ducking her head as the pair darted through the heavy rain.
“You weren't saying that half an hour ago!” Victor half yelled to be heard, barely glancing over his shoulder as he tightened his grip on her hand and continued to pull her forward. He shielded his eyes with his free hand, but it didn't do much good to help him see where they were going.
“Yeah, but I still knew it!” Despite everything, Nova was laughing as he led her through the downpour in a random direction he hoped he would recognise once the rain cleared.
“Is this even the way to camp?” She called, raising her voice so she could hear him.
“No clue,” he laughed, glancing at her quickly.
“Oh my god, we're so screwed,” she giggled, and Victor had to fight the urge to spin around and kiss her, right then and there.
As romantic as the idea sounded, he really did not want to add to the already high risk of getting either of them sick, especially not her. Her father would probably never let her out of his sight again.
Not that he'd particularly approved this specific little excursion, anyway, as they both had made excuses to their friends and family and snuck across their borders, meeting just five minutes up the path from the shared beach. Almost the exact spot that the daywalkers and vampires had seen each other for the first time, all those weeks ago.
The way Victor figured it, both of them sneaking across one singular border each, taking advantage of the border patrols that continued to grow more and more lax as the two towns became more comfortable with the tenuous peace that had settled over them, was far less likely to get them caught than either of them trying to sneak across both borders.
Their people still weren't quite at the point where either teen could freely cross the border without an escort and a really good excuse, despite how surprisingly well the Commander had taken it the first time Victor had tried that.
Which was precisely what he'd texted Nova when he’d come up with the idea. And to his absolute delight, she took almost no convincing.
He could almost fool himself into thinking that maybe she wanted some time alone with him almost as much as he did with her.
It would have been a perfect day if only they'd been prepared for how fast the weather would turn from a slightly overcast, chilly day to a rainstorm worse than Victor had seen all year. Spring had come far sooner than he was expecting, and the pair had been caught completely unprepared.
They’d barely had time to set up the small picnic on the beach that Victor had arranged before they had to promptly abandon their blanket and supplies and run for the nearest shelter they could find.
“There's a cave!” Victor finally spotted an asylum from the rain, redirecting slightly and tugging Nova along behind him.
The pair tumbled through the mouth, breaking out into giggles and hunching over to catch their breath as soon as the water stopped pelting their heads.
Victor shook his head, feeling his heavy mop of hair toss some of the excess water out. Goodbye forty-five minutes of gel styling that he'd spent all morning trying to perfect.
He glanced up at Nova, still breathing heavily from the exertion of the run, only for his breath to catch even further in his chest.
God, she was beautiful.
Like unfairly, insanely, blessed by the goddess Aphrodite herself, levels of beauty.
Her hair hung heavy and dark all around her, falling straighter than he'd ever seen it and making her look exactly like the photos of her mother that he'd seen on the walls of her house. Her bright blue eyes shone even brighter than ever, made to pop by the contrast from the darkened shade of her hair. Her mascara was smudged, the golden eyeliner practically gone, and still he thought she couldn't have looked more stunning than she did in that moment.
“That was… something,” she giggled, her breathing finally beginning to level, as she squeezed the water out of her hair. “Maybe next time we should try to check the weather before we plan something like this.”
Next time, next time, next time, next time. His brain fixated on the words.
So, he hadn't screwed up this technically-not-a-date-because-he-was-too-much-of-a-coward-to-actually-say-the-words, then.
“Noted,” he laughed, pretending her words didn’t set his heart alight with fireworks.
His jacket sat heavily on his shoulders, and Victor knew that keeping the wet clothing on would increase both of their risks of getting sick. And who even knew how long he would have to go without seeing her if they got sick?
He eyed her white shrug, which was so filled with water that it clung to her skin. Her bright red tank top showed easily even through the thick sleeve on one side, and he immediately knew they both needed to lose a few layers if they wanted to be safe.
Though he wasn’t quite sure his heart would be able to handle whatever would happen if she removed the article of clothing while sitting right in front of him in this damp cave.
Don’t get sick, don’t get sick, don’t get sick. He repeated the words in his head like a mantra as he stood straight, before shrugging his jacket off.
“We need to take some of this off,” he spoke quietly, probably barely able to be heard over the wet SHLAPP of his jacket hitting the cave floor as gravity overtook the heavy leather the second it was past his shoulders.
Nova’s face pinkened even further, and for Victor’s own sanity, he was going to pretend that it was a leftover flush from their sprint through the rain. He was also going to ignore the way her eyes seemed to track up his arms, and definitely ignore the way they seemed to pause around the top of his arms, where the damp fabric of his t-shirt, which had been kept only mostly safe from the water, clung to his biceps.
“Right,” she sputtered quickly, turning away from him, and he stared hard at the wall as she slipped her arm out of her long sleeve and slipped the shrug over her head. “Oh, shit!”
He whirled back around in an instant, breath catching for only a second at the sight of her tight, damp tank top before he shook his head and stepped closer to her again. Worry overtook the part of his brain that wanted to fixate on her pale shoulders, with the splattering of freckles that reminded him of only the best constellations.
“You alright, Nova?” He watched her closely, but she was fixated on something on her wrist.
Her lightstone gauntlet.
Oh shit.
Hadn’t Vargas mentioned something back at camp about the lightstone’s allergy to water?
“Is it your lightstone?” He closed the distance between them properly, eyeing the piece of jewellery and its holder on her wrist.
“Yeah,” she nodded, holding it out to him. “I was going to light a fire to try and dry our clothes, but I can’t if it’s wet.”
“Maybe I can dry it a bit with some wind?” He had no idea if that would work, but it was worth a shot, wasn’t it? “If you can get even a small spark started, I can fan the flame to make it big enough to keep you warm and dry our clothes.”
“Maybe,” she hummed, eyes dropping to his darkstone necklace. “Sure, give it a go.” She held her arm up, seeming to brace herself for the cold shock of the wind.
Victor flashed his fangs and felt for the wind circling the cave, grabbing a stray gust and guiding it to circle around the girl’s bracelet.
He focused on creating an air bubble around the stone and was pleased to see stray droplets floating up and into the gust. He shifted his hand and expelled the wind, setting the drops free to fall to the cave floor.
“That’ll never not be cool, by the way.” Nova’s words came out breathy, and when his eyes darted back up to her face, he found her watching him intently. Heat flooded his cheeks, but he thanked her nonetheless.
“Try to make a spark now,” he took a small step away from her, giving her room to spread her fingers and try to light a flame.
It took a few attempts, but soon enough, the girl had a miniature solar flare held in the palm of her hand.
“Okay, quick,” he glanced around them frantically, “what’s something we can light that’ll keep a decent enough flame until the rain lets up?” He scanned the cave.
There really wasn’t much for them to work with, so in the end, he settled for piling up some of the dry leaves into a circle in the middle of the room and surrounding the space with a few stray rocks to stop the fire from spreading.
Nova shot the flare into the leaves, and immediately the cave was filled with a dull orange light.
“That’s something,” Victor grinned at her, before leaning down to pick up their discarded clothes and lay them over the stones next to the fire. It wouldn’t last long, but it was better than nothing.
“Thank god,” Nova sighed, moving over to the fire and—to Victor’s absolute shock—removing her gauntlet and laying it on the stone. He’d never seen her, nor any other daywalker, take off their gauntlets before.
His eyes traced the exposed skin, and he could see the clear tan lines on her pale skin, showing exactly how little she had taken the garment off.
His mouth dropped open, but she answered his question before he could even ask it.
“If I can dry it out a bit better, I might be able to hold a real flame, soon. That way we won’t be back in the dark when the leaves all burn up.” She began the task of wringing the excess water out of her hair, dropping to the wall nearest the flames as she did.
“Fair enough, then,” he chuckled, moving to sit next to her, before mirroring her movements and running a hand through his own hair, shaking out the water the best he could.
“Hey!” Nova squealed when the stray droplets sprayed over her, batting at him as she laughed. “I just wrung out my hair! I don't need you going and making it worse!”
“Sorry, what was that?” He leaned closer and continued to shake out his hair. “I couldn't hear you. Say again?”
“Victor!” She laughed brightly, grabbing both of his wrists to stop his movements.
He laughed with her until he made the mistake of looking up and seeing how close their faces were. Here, in this dark cave, lit only by the single flickering flame, far away from anyone who might know them, both soaked to the bone.
She blinked slowly, laughter coming to a stop as she seemed to come to the same realisations he did.
They would be stuck here for who even knows how long until the rain lets up enough for them to either make it back to their borders or to camp, depending on how intimidating the clouds remained.
“Hi,” she whispered, leaning a little closer to him.
“Hey,” he mirrored her, breath catching as his heart pounded against his ribcage.
“Hello,” she giggled, hands slipping from his wrists to entangle their fingers together and drop to her lap.
When had they shifted their bodies to face each other?
“I like your hair like this,” she mused, dropping one of his hands to card her fingers through his still-soaked locks.
“What, drenched?” He huffed out a laugh, trying desperately to focus on her words.
“Yes, dummy,” she giggled, continuing the ministrations. “That's exactly what I meant.” She shook her head at him, her wet hair slapping against his chest, once again bringing his attention to how close they were sitting. “It’s curly. And getting really long, now. Almost more black than red,” she ran her hands through his length, leaning even closer to look at the red strands, which were so far down they may as well have been tips.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, straining his brain to process her words, instead of focusing on the euphoric feeling of her hands in his hair. “I’ve been too lazy to dye it. And Vera's been too busy to bug me to cut it.” The words came out slurred, as his eyes slid shut against his will, leaning further into her touch.
Nova giggled again, the sound tinkling through the damp air as clear as a bell.
She swapped from combing through his curls to gently scraping her nails along his scalp, and Victor barely suppressed a groan as he craned his neck even further towards her.
“I could help you. If you want.” She sounded almost shy, despite him literally being putty in her hands.
“Huh?” Victor’s brain struggled to fight through the haze that her expert hands had brought on. Help with what? What had she said? What were they talking about? What was his name again?
“I could help you dye your hair,” she offered again, words coming out more confident now, as she went back to tugging at his curls. “If Vera made you cut it now, no red would be left. Unless that’s something you wanted.”
“Definitely not,” Victor shifted slightly, resting his head against his shoulder before his neck caved out from the awkward angle. “But you don’t have to help if you don’t want to. I’ll dye it eventually.” He blinked up at her through his eyelashes. God, she was so beautiful. It was genuinely unfair.
“I want to!” She spoke up quickly, finally dropping her hand from his hair, and Victor wanted to groan again at the loss. “Besides, I’ve always been curious about how it works.”
“You don’t know?” Victor raised his head from her shoulder and tilted it. “Isn’t this dye?” He raised his hand and carded his fingers through her long blonde waves, the golden strands flashing in the flickering firelight.
“It’s not dye,” she laughed, shaking her head, and Victor watched as the movement made the hair slide through his fingers.
Wow, her hair was soft.
“What, so you’re telling me that daywalkers are just born with glitter in their hair?” He raised a brow, a teasing grin sliding onto his lips. “As if, Princess.”
“No!” She laughed, shoving at his shoulder. “It’s called hair tinsel, dummy!”
“Hair what what?”
“Hair tinsel,” she repeated, still laughing at him. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Tiny strands of tinsel that we weave into our hair. It only lasts a week or two, as they fall out slowly with every wash.”
She sifted through the strand of hair he’d had in his fingers a moment before, picking the golden glitter apart from the golden blonde. “See?” She offered him the now separated strands.
He ran his hands through her hair again and could immediately feel the difference. Her hair was soft as silk, feeling like the finest pillowcases in Shadyside, while the tinsel had an odd, coarse texture.
“Crazy,” he muttered, weaving the strands together again before running his hands through, watching as they blended seamlessly once more. “But wait. You’ve had this in since we met. How has it lasted so long?”
Nova’s cheeks pinked, and Victor belatedly realised what he’d just admitted to.
That he’d been watching her so closely, even all those weeks ago, to notice the delicate golden sparkle in her hair.
“I put them in myself,” she wound her fingers around the hair, and twirled it, seeming almost like a nervous habit. “I’ve gotten pretty good at lining it up to the same place every time.”
“That makes sense,” he nodded. “Still sounds like a lot of effort for something that you always keep in. Have you ever thought about just dying it gold?” And he knew that daywalkers had access to gold dye, after seeing a few too many of them fall in the lake at camp, their sparkly hair not budging even once.
Nova snorted, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. “Are you kidding me? I think my dad would have a heart attack! It took him a month to stop commenting when I started wearing the tinsel full-time. It’s technically supposed to only be for special occasions.”
“I’m sure he’ll survive a little gold dye,” Victor chuckled, thinking back to when her father had told him about childhood Nova wanting to go bright red. At least gold couldn’t be directly linked with their ‘enemies.’ “That’s pretty low-level on the rebellion scale, if you ask me. Especially considering that your last act of teen rebellion was stealing your people’s most precious thing and running off with a vampire,” he winked at her.
The ambiguity of his words had its intended effect, as her cheeks were immediately filled with a bright pink blush that spread quickly over her ears and down her neck.
His eyes traced down her neck, and not for the first time, Victor wondered how she would taste. His eyes ran over the delicate, flushed skin, practically able to hear the flowing of her blood under her skin.
He imagined running his teeth—his fangs— along the flawless curve of her neck. Would she let him? He had no idea if that was something that would freak her out. God, he hoped not. He would die a happy man the day she wore his mark.
He wouldn’t do it now, obviously. Biting someone was a big deal to vampires. A commitment. A forever. But one day, maybe? Maybe after he finally gathered the nerve to ask this beautiful girl before him to be his and his alone.
God, he was so far gone.
“Shut up!” She ducked her head, and Victor’s eyes snapped away from her neck. Her face was ducked, and he had no idea if she’d followed his gaze or knew what he’d been thinking, but it wouldn’t surprise him if she did. “That wasn’t rebellion. That was— “she floundered for a moment— “survival! Didn’t count.” She crossed her arms and turned her nose up.
He didn’t mention the fact that she’d also snuck out today to spend time with him outside of their borders.
“Well, if you want to rebel a little, you could always dye it red instead,” he smirked, retaking hold of her hair and lifting it to his own head. “We could match. And you’d finally have fulfilled your childhood dream of having vampire hair.”
If possible, Nova’s face grew even pinker at the mention, and Victor again had to force his eyes not to follow the delicious flush down her neck and over her chest.
“How do you know about that?” She pressed the backs of both hands over her cheeks, as if trying to will them to cool down.
He could help her with that, if she wanted. After all, she had said that she liked how cold his skin always was.
“Your dad let that cat out of the bag when I came to Sunnyside,” he laughed instead. “Guess you’ve always been drawn to vampires, huh?” He winked, grinning when she flushed even further.
God, he loved whatever this was.
That he seemed to be able to have the same effect on her as she so often did on him.
“You’re ridiculous,” she shook her head, dropping her hands back to her lap, but not bothering to hide the small smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.
Victor’s eyes darted down to track the movement.
Ridiculously in love, maybe.
He didn’t answer, afraid of what he might say if he tried, and instead let his eyes trail slowly back up to her shimmering blue ones. His eyes sparked with challenge as he smirked at her.
She really would look good as a redhead. It would make her amazing eyes pop even more than they already did. And he couldn’t deny how much he wanted to see her in his colours.
If the sight of her in his jacket nearly had him coming unravelled last week, he could only imagine what kind of state he would be in if she ever did change something so significant about herself. For him. It might even be the thing that would finally stop his heart for good.
“I’ll dye my hair red,” she rolled her eyes, “when you let me put tinsel in yours.”
He blinked.
Did she really think that was a threat?
He could see it now, the pair of them sitting together on the floor of his Shadyside apartment. He would sit between her legs, leaning back against her as she meticulously wound her hands through his hair over and over again, weaving sparkles between the red and black.
He’d close his eyes, completely entranced as she hummed a song with that beautiful voice of hers, acting as his own personal siren that he would never be able to ignore the call of.
“Okay,” he shrugged easily. He couldn’t fight the soft smile that spread over his face when she blinked up at him in confusion or shock; he couldn’t tell.
“Okay?”
“Okay, you can put tinsel in my hair,” he clarified, eyes darting between hers. “It’s a date.” He held his breath, unsure what he was waiting for.
“It is?” His word choice flustered her, clearly, but the fact that she didn’t argue against the idea, or reject him outright, made a small spark of hope light up inside his chest.
That was a good sign, right?
A sign that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to ask her out for real. Sometime soon. A sign that she might actually say yes.
“You don’t even have to go red,” he leaned in, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “Though I do think you’d look absolutely ravishing if you did; you’re beautiful either way.”
The pink on her cheeks only grew deeper and spread further over her skin as she squeaked, staring at him with wide eyes.
Was that too much?
He could feel the heat radiating from her face as his fingers lingered, tracing gently down from her ear to cup her jaw and tilt her head ever so slightly.
God, he'd missed this closeness with her.
Ever since his aunt had interrupted them after the council, before Nova’s brief tour of Shadyside, he felt like his control around her was slowly slipping further and further through his fingertips. It was only a matter of time before he did something really idiotic, like sweeping her into his arms and kissing her properly, not holding anything back in the way he'd been dreaming of for longer than he could remember.
But he knew he owed it to her to at least finally grow the balls to actually ask her out for real, before he deserved a kiss like that.
Still, that didn't mean they couldn't do anything. Did it?
Completely out of his control, his eyes darted down to her lips.
He heard her breath catch, but otherwise she didn't react. Didn't pull away. Didn't deflect his attention in any way.
“You know this isn't at all what I had planned for today,” he mumbled, eyes darting back to her eyes, taking note of her pupils blown so wide that they almost completely covered up the sparkling blue.
God, he was a weak, weak man.
“Oh?” Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips, and his eyes flicked back down, tracking the movement. “What did you have planned instead?”
“A nice picnic on the beach. A calming walk to the campgrounds. Maybe retracing our steps to all the places we went together then.” His voice came out huskier than he intended, and he had to genuinely fight to keep his body from closing the distance on its own, feeling the pull to her like the strongest magnet in the world.
It was so incredibly difficult to focus on his words when she was that close to him. When her mouth was right there.
“That sounds nice,” her voice was so soft that it was almost a whisper. Her eyes dropped down to his lips, lidded and heavy as she leaned into him, but didn’t close the gap all the way. “Sounds like a real date.”
Was that an opportunity?
Was that her wanting him to finally ask the question that had been spinning in his mind on repeat ever since their first kiss on the beach after camp?
“Sounds like it,” he agreed non-committedly, still not quite brave enough to say the actual words.
“Victor.”
He forced his heavy eyes to blink and dragged them back to meet hers.
“Yeah?” His throat bobbed around the word.
“Kiss me.”
He wasn’t one to be told twice.
Victor rocketed forward, eyes sliding closed as he sealed his lips over hers in a heartbeat, taking full advantage of the hand that still rested on her cheek to pull her deeper into him, angling her face so he had full access to her breathtaking mouth.
A sound he couldn’t control rumbled in the back of his throat when she threaded her hands through his hair once more, one spreading through the hairs at the nape of his neck while the other scratched at his scalp in a way that had him going insane.
“Nova,” he muttered against her mouth, lips barely moving as the word escaped him like a prayer.
She hummed, one hand shifting to his jaw as she fully pulled him back into her.
He almost jumped when he felt something snake against his lips, his pulse spiking faster than it ever had been before, and he was almost worried that this girl was going to send him into cardiac arrest right here and now.
Slowly, almost afraid of what would happen next, he opened his mouth, accepting the way her tongue was immediately there, pushing past his lips and brushing against his teeth in a single second.
Victor gasped, letting her tongue sweep its way around his mouth as he fell back against the wall, pulling her with him by mistake as his free hand wound around her waist, fingers digging into her hips.
God, he was a dead man.