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She can imagine how Jilian’s hazel eyes keep their sparkle despite her refusal. Eva hears how she prances back into their shared bedroom.
Eva works on preparing dinner, she makes what she wants, Jilian will likely just order something. It's her favorite, a “comfort food” Americans call it.
Bratwurst made her mother's way. It’s a simple indulgence she partakes in when she feels homesick. It’s been a more intense and frequent feeling as of late. Next Tuesday will mark the first year of being away from her family, in college.
By ten Julian has had her fill of Bridgerton and shuts off her tablet. She climbs out of the bed; Eva only slightly misses the warmth of her contact. Every Tuesday and Thursday they cuddle up on Eva’s bed and watch Bridgerton (or whatever they’re in the mood for) until one of them gets bored or too tired.
At first this idea scared her. The idea of someone clinging onto her and her being forced to reciprocate for an indefinite amount of time while watching a show she potentially wouldn’t like. Of course, these worries were quickly dissolved the first night. She found she actually enjoyed Bridgerton and Jilian’s warmth wasn’t quite unwelcome.
“Alright,” her coils of chestnut hair bounce around her shoulders as she jumps down from the bed, “goodnight, Eva.”
“Goodnight,” Eva smiles softly, pulling the covers up to her chin and turning on her side.
Jilian flicks the lights off. She falls asleep by eleven, resting peacefully.
_________________________________________
Eva has an urge to throw her alarm across the room. Its incessant buzzing kills any joy she might have felt in the morning, which is already close to none.
“Good morning,” Jilian chirps. “Are you gonna talk to him today?”
“Mmmrfhghm,” she groans, shoving her face further in her pillow.
“I’ll take that as a yes!”
Eva sighs.
_________________________________________
The May rain was unforgiving in its downpour forcing all the kids to sprint to their next location if they happened to not have an umbrella. Eva was one of the unfortunate ones, having not checked the weather this morning, she was blessed with being soaked from head to toe.
Once she finally arrived at the library, she was surprisingly grateful for the blast of A/C. It dries her just enough to make her hair frizz up but not enough to actually make her feel any less soaked, maybe she’s not totally grateful. She peels off her coat and slings it across her forearm. Her hair sticks to the back of her neck, it’s soppy and irritating enough that she entirely forgets the goal Jilian set for her.
She automatically takes her regular seat, pulling out her things and setting them in order. The similarity of it all calms her. That is, until the library door swings open and in runs the messy blonde.
Eva snaps her eyes up to watch as he bolts to his seat. Instantly upon seeing him she’s struck with the memory of Jillian’s words.
“I want you to make an effort, I want you to have friends!”
She has friends. She’s quick to make them, it's just that none of them stay. Not for long anyways. Jilian is likely the longest friendship she’s ever had. And it’s been harder to socialize this year because of school. The amount of work she’s been given is entirely unholy. Eva steals herself with a breath, rising too suddenly to feign nonchalance. Her breath is controlled as she sets her mind to her task.
He throws off his jacket, a yellow raincoat, she’s never seen him wear a different one, and tosses it onto the chair. Along with his bag as well. At her sudden approach his eyes wander up to hers.
“Hello,” his smile is polite, eyes filling with mirth.
She tries to smile back though it likely looks more like a grimace. “Hi,” she replies simply.
Eva stands still, stupidly staring and trying to rack her brain for any words to break the ice. He scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick, she assumes. Unfortunately, when the moment comes, they speak at the same time.
“Do you need-“
“Would it be okay if-"
“Oh, you go.”
“No, you first, I insist.”
He laughs at the embarrassment of it all. His hand goes to rest on the desk; he shifts his weight seemingly all to that hand. This is something that always confused Eva. Why do Americans lean so much? It’s like they’re unable to stay upright without help. For most she finds it looks stupid—the way their hips jut to one side, how they end up taking more space than necessary just because they can—but with him it’s different. He certainly doesn’t seem the most confident but the air surrounding him is sure, secure.
“Do you,” he stops abruptly as if reconsidering his words, “did you need help with something?”
Eva clears her throat, straightening her back. “I was wondering if you would like to sit together.”
He seems slightly taken aback by this but thankfully Eva can detect no trace of annoyance on his features.
“You and I are both in here every day, but we have yet to even utter a word to each other. I’m-" she fiddles with a loose string at the hem of her shirt. “I’m under the impression we would be cordial.”
His light chuckle breaks some of her tension. Her shoulders loosen, dropping a centimeter, barely noticeable but it makes her feel relatively better. She couldn't say why she felt so anxious, nothing about this man was scary. But something in her felt like she had to do this right.
“Alright,” his voice is warm. He picks up his back, moving to the side he gestures for her to sit as he plops into the one beside it. His bag lands in front of him on the table and he begins to pluck out every item from inside. The pens, pencils, notebooks, textbooks, a laptop, everything she sees from across the room. But it’s different up close. The whole year, each time she subtly watched him from the corner, he seemed like a figment, something not to touch. This was his space, his seat. And the corner was hers. Neither messed with the others and it was peaceful. Though, now, she was close enough to change it.
She sits, hands folded in her lap, before she realizes her stuff is still across the room. Her head bows as an involuntary snort escapes her. Eva can feel his eyes on her. She meets his gaze as she rises.
“I left everything over there,” she points to her seat.
A smile creeps onto his mouth, “Want help?” he questions as he makes to stand.
“No,” it comes out accidentally clipped, “no thank you.” her smile once again feels forced onto her lips.
He nods, still all twinkly eyed and happy, and sits back down. She doesn’t feel his eyes leave her even as she turns her back.
“So, what’s your name?” he asks placidly.
She snags her pens, pencils, and highlighters, dropping them into one of her many pouches. The next thing to enter her backpack is her laptop. Then, her notebook and three textbooks. Finally, her binder is forced in between everything. All of it just barely fits, bulging lumps make themselves known as she slings the bag across her shoulder.
“Mine is Ryland.”
She turns round heading back to the desk he occupies. It feels like an olive branch, he wants to know her.
Her bag drops from her shoulders to the ground, right next to the desk. She extended a hand to him, “Eva.”
His sky-blue eyes flick from her hand to her face, then back to her hand. He huffs out a laugh and leans forward to take her hand. It’s not a long handshake but when they release Eva can feel the cold of the air hitting her from where he had previously warmed it. This man has warm hands–Ryland has warm hands. Soft too.
“It’s nice to meet you, Eva”
She sits this time with everything she needs. They fall into the quiet thrum of work. The hours pass by and as they need to take breaks, instead of silently staring off into space like she’s done so many times before, they talk. Their topics are just about anything under the sun, and sometimes above it as well. Her knowledge of him grows exponentially within the afternoon. And when they need to get back to work, she finds she doesn’t want to. That rather than study she would like to stay on break with Ryland.
Eventually and-unadmittedly-unfortunately they part ways. She to her dorm. And he to his.
Jilian was ecstatic when Eva told her about their budding friendship. She forced her to promise that she would continue to branch out and talk to others as well. This only peeved her slightly because Jilian had good intentions but that was already her plan. Like previously stated Eva is not a recluse, she’s just been busy. She tried to explain this to Jilian many times over, but she wouldn't listen, so Eva gave up.
Through the summer her and Rylands friendship grew and they got impossibly close, scarily so. They didn’t go anywhere without each other. If Ryland’s friends wanted to go on a trip with him then Eva was bound to be invited as well, whether his friends like it or not, though they grew to be fond of her and invited her anyway. And if Eva wanted to be alone for an afternoon, then she was alone with Ryland.
He was her best friend.
And she was his.
Then they graduated.
_________________________________________
Decades later she was head of project Hail Mary, and he the leading authority in Astrophage biology.
The calm of night washes over them in Stratt’s room. Grace had forced her to take a break, just for tonight. She relented after hours of nagging. The two of them lay on her bed, grace with his head tucked under her chin as she carded her fingers through his hair.
“You don’t laugh anymore.” his voice, rough and injected with the nag of sleep, is just shy of a whisper.
She stiffens beneath him, hand stilling in his hair, and if he notices he is kind enough not to mention it. He’s not wrong, it’s been a while since anything has genuinely made her laugh, a chuckle here and there but largely out of politeness. Since she was informed about the world's imminent doom it’s been hard to find much of anything funny.
Her fingers continue to fiddle with his already stuck-up strands of hair. “It’s-” but she can’t find the words.
She takes in a stuttering breath and tries again, “I don’t have anyone to make me laugh.” is what she settles for.
He shifts his head to look at her face, chin resting on her chest. “Well, I'm more than happy to fill that role.” though she can see it she hears it more. His smile.