Vella had a long standing habit of fucking things up.

It had become amusing, in a despairing kind of way, her ability to recognize a poor decision before she’d made it. To follow through despite the certainty she held for the incoming disaster. Had happened more times than she could count. Sometimes in small ways, sometimes in big.

Rarely like this: in soul-crushing ways, with an extra helping of, I might have gotten myself killed.

Because Katia’s party had been her best way forward, and she somehow doubted the likelihood of that, now.

She’d known how Katia would react. What her mentality was toward romance – not directly through anything she’d said, but by her behavior. Through who she was, the passion she held for delving. 

It was part of why Vella had been so ensnared, really. Someone so singularly focused on a goal, on their future … it had had Vella like a moth to a flame. 

Ambition had always done it for her. Maybe because she was such a fuckup.

The silence that had hung between the two of them since entering their first Liminality … Vella might actually have preferred a literal blade, over the figurative one.

She’d tried to spark conversation, a few times. Brush past what had happened – maybe pretend it hadn’t. How relieving would that have been?

But it hadn’t worked. Obviously. Vella might not be privy to whatever was spinning around in Katia’s head, but she knew something was.

For the first time, Vella got a sense for who Katia was in public. Her natural state. The mask, fully donned. Vella had been given a very rare opportunity, thrust into the particular situation she had with Katia. Disarming, embarrassing, and intense, the first Cascade had scraped away the layers of ice Katia wore faster than Vella had had any right to – had given insight into Katia she hadn’t earned.

But now, fully restored. Back on guard. Vella had seen slabs of stone more welcoming than Katia. Her answers were short, one word. Terse. Face as expressive as a statue.

And after the way she’d melted in her arms just hours before, had reciprocated so completely in that kiss of theirs, the sight was …

Rending.

Made her feel small. Crushed down. She hated it.

Who wouldn't?

At least Vella was experienced in this, in fucking things up. She had some skill in handling disasters, thanks to how frequently she caused them. A sad skill, no doubt, but a useful one.

See, Vella had never had much success with romance. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t wholly her fault, that she had, in some ways, truly been unlucky. But it sounded like coping, even to her ears. Especially to her ears.

Because she caught feelings too easily. She recognized it, and hated it. Things just … developed too fast. In her heart. The good in people was so easy to see, when you’d grown up in a place like Vella had. In the way Vella had. Katia had her flaws, but her virtues had burned so brightly.

Moth to a flame.

Vella needed to figure out how to fix this, and fast. For so many reasons.

And, slimy as it felt to admit, most prevalently so she didn’t die. She needed to convince Katia, somehow, that things could still work. That just because she’d caught feelings – trying to claim otherwise would be spitting on her intelligence, Vella felt – that that didn’t mean everything was somehow ruined. Apologize, tell Katia she could control herself. 

But could she?

If it came down to life or death …

Still just a maybe.

See earlier: fuckup.

Either way, it was her only shot.

How to even begin?

 

---

 

For the past four hours, Katia’s thoughts had been sprinting in circles.

That kiss. That euphoric, mind-melting, gods-damned kiss.

Why?

Why did Vella have to ruin what they’d had?

Katia had had such a nice, neat little delusion she'd been living under. That all of the physical intimacy, all of the wonderful, heart pounding moments she'd had with Vella, had been necessary: and thus squarely in line with the one true thing that mattered in her life. Exploring the Tower's depths.

But now.

An intruder on her worldview. Her priorities.

Because how could she possibly reconcile that kiss? How it made her feel? Where it fit, in her life, in what she wanted from it?

It didn't.

Katia had no time for 'romance'.

No time for 'soft' and 'sweet'.

No time for kisses that melted her insides, eradicated her sense of self, made her want to float away.

Maybe, maybe, Katia had told herself, once she'd made her mark on the world, when her name was on the lips of every Sovereign, every scheming politician in the Luminous Court, could she allow herself a chance at romance. Find the right person -- indulge, for once in her life.

Because truth was, that appealed to her.

The idea of romance. In having someone who was hers, wholly and unabashedly. Somewhere deep down, in the places Katia rarely was adventurous enough to dive, she was a romantic. But that was a dream for later. Shelved and buried. Not to be examined closely until the time was right. 

A wine fermenting in a cellar.

Because until she'd ground the Tower beneath her foot, proved herself capable in the eyes of Father, in the eyes of everyone, and accomplished what she'd set out to do, romance was a distraction. That decision, she’d made a long time ago.

So now she was faced with a dilemma. One that made her stomach writhe.

What did she tell Vella?

Because that stupid, dumb, idiot had made it so obvious. All she'd needed to do was lie. One word, when Katia had asked if the passion behind that gods-damned kiss was the fault of the skill. 'Yes'. And none of this would have been a problem. Was that so hard? It could've even been the truth, if she twisted it around in her head a bit. Katia did that all the time. It made things so much easier. So why hadn't she?

Instead, disarray. 

Fucking Vella.

The ending of their first Cascade should’ve been a celebration. A small one – more sentimental than pride for a challenge overcome – but a celebration nonetheless. Katia had felt pretty good, arriving at the boss room. The future looked clean. Simple. Exciting, even. Especially with how powerful Vella’s class seemed to be turning out. A fortunately acquired ally, one who Katia could tolerate, wasn’t a common thing.

Maybe even the party situation would have worked out perfectly with Cheri, and Moshe would have an incompatible class with Katia. Dominoes rarely fell so politely, but Katia had had a good feeling – a rare, glowing optimism. Her, Cheri, and Vella. It had sounded such an appealing prospect. Awkward, certainly, as she figured out how Cheri would fit into the situation with Vella … but she’d have figured it out.

And now …

Like she said, disarray.

And the longer Katia went without addressing what had happened, the worse it got.

But she could hardly discuss things with Vella when even she didn’t have answers. Didn’t even understand what she herself wanted.

For example:

Would it be so bad? If she allowed herself a chance at romance, earlier than she’d intended?

But that was a very, very dangerous question.

And not just to Katia specifically. Romance between party members, like any professional field, was a disaster bound to happen. One needed a clear-mindedness going into the Tower. A detached and analytical frame of mind. Passion was useful, certainly – but only as something to be leveraged. Rage turned to a purpose was a fearsome thing, but mindless? Less than useless: debilitating.

The same for all passions, unchecked.

But Katia needed to work through these problems, so she took a step back.

Simplified the question.

If she did allow it – which was yet to be answered – was she interested in Vella filling that role? In romance with that sarcastic, playful, aggravating redhead? If she could decide cleanly no, then the previous question became irrelevant. She’d have a way to start moving forward.

So she tried her gods-damned hardest to make it a no.

That she wasn’t interested in Vella. 

And failed.

Found herself back at square one.

Because, forcing herself to do some genuine self analysis, the answer was almost annoyingly a yes. The idea of Vella being her girlfriend – even as a glancing consideration – left a murmuring, gooey feeling in her stomach. The idea of cuddling up with her, being peppered with kisses, holding hands and –

Well, she was just being gross now.

So. Shelve that. She’d maybe be fine with it. 

Entertain the thought.

What would her future look like, down this path? The Tower would still hold priority; could they slot together? This indulgence and her true purpose?

Theoretically, yes.

It just made things harder. Added unnecessary risks. Distractions and complications. She’d need contingency plans, set boundaries on how their relationship would work. One’s Vella might not even be okay with. 

Was it worth it?

Was her happiness worth jeopardizing her career? However minorly?

Don’t be absurd, Father’s voice whispered into her ear. 

And a different part of her, a mutinous one that didn’t often see the light of day, whispered:

Find out yourself.

 

---

 

“We should talk,” Katia said.

Vella glanced up. Despite her earlier determination, she’d been entirely unable to confront Katia to work things out. Hadn’t known how to start, what to say. And a botched interaction would’ve been even worse than letting things linger – not that the latter was remotely good either. So she’d dragged her feet in misery, letting Katia navigate the two of them through the peaceful echo-worlds of the first-tier Liminalities, headed toward Ximore, the City Under the Stars, the meeting point for her friends.

And likely, Vella’s depressed mind whispered, where this ends.

“Talk?” Vella asked. “About what?”

Maybe once, this was where Katia would have quirked an eyebrow at her for saying something dumb. Instead, no reaction. Icy mask firmly in place.

Such a great sign.

“About what happened,” Katia said. “The kiss.”

She sounded so in control. So unperturbed. Why couldn’t Vella be that way, when handling complicated situations?

Clearly, Katia’s reaction to the kiss had been purely physical. Euphoric in only a carnal way. Her silence these past hours had only been her grinding out a solution in her head to Vella’s idiocy. 

Vella suspected what that solution was.

“Right,” Vella said. “The kiss.” Quietly, “What about it?” 

“What it means. Why you … did it.”

“Ah.”

The silence in the air grinded down on her, crushed her shoulders forward.

Even firmly in control of herself, Katia still struggled to find the words to continue.

"When I was seven, my mother was killed."

Whatever Vella had been expecting, it wasn't that.

Katia turned away. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and she looked perfectly at ease.

"I didn't realize it was murder until I was fifteen, but I probably should have. I certainly knew the lengths my," she paused, "colleagues would go if it meant clawing an ounce more power their way. Hm. My father, of course, recognized the treachery immediately, not blinded by youth. But he had always been my mother's inferior, and if she couldn't have prevented her untimely demise, then Father, obviously, had similar odds in finding justice." Her hands tightened behind her back. "But he saw a different way forward. See, Father has always been a patient man. Long-sighted. And he had a very promising daughter."

Vella remained silent, and not because she had nothing to say.

"I have a need for the Tower. The advancement it offers. I would like to see certain wrongs righted. Certain … smiles wiped from certain faces. And to do so, I need resources. Strength. Not in the form of favors and connections: my mother had those in plenty. But in personal power. The only kind that can't be subverted."

Katia turned back to her, and she wondered how her face remained so impassive.

"So you must understand how little time I have for romance."

Vella's mouth had gone dry, so she tried to wet it.

"Katia, I–”

"Don't apologize. Or offer me pity."

Her teeth clicked shut.

"Just answer this," Katia said. "What do you expect from me?"

Expect? "I don't expect anything."

"Then want. What do you want from me?"

A silence.

Because how did she even answer that?

And she had the feeling if she wasn't honest here … this was over.

Vella swallowed, again trying to cure her dry mouth.

She wouldn't lie, but maybe she could deflect.

"What I want doesn't matter. Not really."

"Answer the question, Vella."

"I don't know. Okay? I don't." Vella scrubbed her forehead in frustration. "Or at least, I think you already know."

"Say it."

She could feel that time-tested omen rolling in. Storm clouds rumbling, on the edge of her hearing, crackling: you're about to make a mistake.

Vella stuck her hands in her pockets and forced herself not to talk.

Katia's mask cracked, just barely, at the refusal. A hint of vulnerability.

Said quietly, "Please, Vella?"

And so she didn't really stand a chance, did she?

"A date, I guess. Dunno. Get to know each other. Maybe not limit ourselves to being just teammates." Vella shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "Not your thing, though. So."

A silence, as expected.

Katia turned away, as expected.

"Ah," she said, as if the response had come from nowhere.

Vella wanted to go bury herself in some dark patch of earth. 

But needed to salvage things … somehow. Her life, Dad's freedom, depended on it.

"It doesn't need to matter," Vella finally said. "I've always been … stupid. Catch feelings too easily. They won't get in the way. And I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. That wasn't my intention."

No response. Still facing away.

"We can still make it work. As teammates." Vella struggled for how to phrase it. "You don't need to … make any hasty decisions."

Katia turned, finally, to face her. Slowly. Eyebrows raising, eyes widening.

Vella had just fucked something up, but at least this one she hadn't seen coming.

"You thought … I'd abandon you for this?"

She didn't sound confused, or caught off guard. She sounded angry.

"I thought you wouldn't be comfortable …"

"So I'd throw you to the side? Because I was uncomfortable?” Her eyes flashed. “Clearly, you don't know me."

"No," Vella agreed, her own anger building. "I don't. We only met two days ago, so how could I? But I'm positive I know part of you, and I like that part. Want to know the rest. That's kinda the point."

The mask continued to crumble away, anger and flusterment both cracking through. “How can you … say something like that? So earnestly.” She shook her head. "This has nothing to do with your place in the team. Like before, that comes only down to efficiency: the dice on who received what class."

"So what is this about, then?"

"Us!"

"You just said you aren't interested!"

"I didn't say I wasn't interested, you idiot," she growled. "I said I had no time for romance."

"Same difference."

"No," Katia ground out. "It isn't."

"What, then?"

Katia threw her hands in the air. "I don't know! Why … why did you have to complicate things? Why did you have to think with the wrong head?"

Vella breathed in to respond, then parsed what she said.

"Excuse me?"

"A guy would've been ecstatic with our arrangement! Wouldn't have …" Katia waved her hands in a way that didn't particularly mean anything. "Clearly, that thing isn't working."

Vella opened her mouth, then closed it.

Felt kind of offended, honestly.

For herself, and guys in general.

"I'm not interested in you just for your body, Katia."

"Can't you be?" Katia made a noise of frustration. "It was … nice, what we had."

Vella shrugged, nonchalance painfully feigned. Katia probably didn't realize how much those words had stung. 

"If that's what you want."

A pause, Katia grappling with what to say.

"What would it even look like? Us. 'Dating'. There wouldn't … I have obligations. Priorities that can't change. I’m not that person."

Vella shrugged, again, because she had nothing to say.

Katia sighed. "It's not a no, Vella. But can I … have some time to think?"

"Of course." Clearly Katia thought dragging out the rejection would make it less painful. Vella supposed she shouldn't even feel so crushed: she believed Katia's assurances that her chance in the team hadn't been affected. She'd been very … genuine, in that moment. Her anger at the implication hadn’t been faked. Maybe subconsciously Vella’s chances were still shot, but at least Katia wouldn't actively drop her.

So all things considered, the conversation had gone perfectly. 

Didn't feel like it.