A/N: This is a very long chapter but I have no doubt you'll like it ♡

𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The night air was cool, and the city was quiet—just the way I liked it. The occasional car passed by, their headlights slicing through the darkness as I pulled into the drive-thru lane.

The glow from the menu board bathed the interior of my car in a soft, golden light, flickering against the windshield as I tapped my fingers absently against the steering wheel.

Madelyn was curled up in the passenger seat, legs tucked underneath her as she scrolled through her phone.

She looked so damn comfortable, like she belonged there. "Why do you look like you're making the most difficult decision of your life?" she mused, glancing at me with a teasing smirk.

I scoffed but kept my eyes on the menu. "Because I'm responsible for ordering food for an entire group of people, and if I mess up, I'll never hear the end of it. Do you know how dramatic Caleb gets when he's hungry?"

Madelyn giggled. "He did say last time that he 'almost perished' because you forgot his extra nuggets."

"Exactly. High stakes here." She hummed, leaning her head against the seat. "So, what's the hold-up? Fries are non-negotiable, obviously."

"Obviously," I echoed. "But how many orders do we get? Two? Three?"

Madelyn sat up straighter, feigning offense. "Three? Do you know us? We need at least four large fries. One for everyone to share, then one for me, one for you, and one as backup."

I turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? So you admit you're a fry hoarder?"

She shrugged, grinning. "I like what I like."

I smirked, shaking my head before pressing the button to order. "Alright, we'll do four large fries, one medium fry, one spicy chicken sandwich, two double cheeseburgers, a 10-count nugget, one grilled chicken sandwich—"

"And a large chocolate shake, its the best shake," Madelyn added, bouncing a little in her seat.

I glanced at her, amused. She shot me an innocent smile.

I huffed a laugh and relayed the rest of the order. As I reached into the center console for my wallet, I felt it—the unmistakable warmth of Madelyn's fingers sliding over mine.

It was so casual, so effortless, like she had done it a hundred times before. My breath caught for half a second, my movements pausing as her fingers laced lightly with mine.

She wasn't even looking at me—her eyes were on the glowing menu board, lips pursed as if she were still debating adding another shake.

But she didn't move her hand. And neither did I. I swallowed, forcing my focus back to paying.

The worker handed me the receipt, and as I took it, Madelyn's thumb brushed lazily over my knuckles, sending an unexpected shiver up my spine.

"You do realize I let you hold my hand, right?" she said casually, still not looking at me.

I blinked, turning to her. "Oh? You let me hold your hand?"

"Mhm." She bit her lip, fighting a smile. "It's a privilege, really."

I chuckled, shaking my head as I finally pulled away to grab the food from the window. But the absence of her touch was immediate, like a missing puzzle piece I hadn't realized I needed.

As I set the bags in the backseat, Madelyn turned slightly toward me, resting her chin in her palm. Her dimples deepened as she grinned, clearly enjoying my reaction. "You're staring," she noted smugly.

I rolled my eyes, but I could feel the smirk tugging at my lips. "No, I'm memorizing. Just in case your ego ever deflates and you need reminding of how ridiculous you are."

She gasped in mock offense. "Wow. Is this how you treat people who hold your hand?"

I reached over and lightly poked the dimple on her cheek. "It's how I treat people who think chocolate shakes are the superior shake."

Madelyn swatted my hand away, laughing. "That was uncalled for."

"Was it, though?" I teased, grinning. She huffed dramatically, crossing her arms. "I should revoke your hand-holding privileges."

I placed a hand over my heart, gasping. "You wouldn't dare."

Madelyn just smiled at me—one of those soft, knowing smiles that made my stomach flip in a way I wasn't entirely ready to unpack.

I cleared my throat and faced forward again as I pulled away from the drive-thru. "Let's get back before Caleb sends out a search party."

"Yeah," Madelyn agreed, but as I reached for the gear shift, I felt it again—her hand, warm and soft, slipping back over mine. My heart stuttered in my chest.

"What—?" I started, glancing at her. She shrugged, feigning innocence. "Your hand is warm. Mine's cold."

I narrowed my eyes playfully. "Uh-huh."

"What?" she asked, voice light, but I could see the glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. I exhaled, shaking my head with a small smile, but I didn't let go. And neither did she.

.  .  .

By the time we made it back to my apartment, the living room looked exactly how I expected it—blankets thrown over the couch, pillows stacked haphazardly on the floor, and my friends scattered across the space like they owned the place.

The TV was frozen on the streaming menu, and from the kitchen, I could hear Caleb and Lili already deep in another one of their dramatic movie debates.

"No, no, no," Caleb was saying, waving a half-eaten bag of popcorn like a gavel. "A good movie night pick needs rewatchability—something you can tune in and out of without missing crucial plot points."

Lili groaned, rubbing her temples. "So... you're saying Shrek is the best option?"

Caleb grinned, pointing at her. "Exactly!"

Storm, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her phone in hand, snorted. "Y'all are so predictable. Every time it's either Shrek or some random action movie Caleb won't shut up about."

"I resent that," Caleb shot back. "We have range."

"You don't," I said, setting the food down on the counter. "But I'm too hungry to argue. Somebody just pick something."

Madelyn, who had been standing beside me, bumped her hip against mine playfully. "Maybe if you didn't take foreverat the drive-thru, we'd already be eating."

I shot her a look. "Excuse me? You were the one who hijacked my order for a chocolate shake."

"Which, might I add, was a great decision." She reached for the bag before I could, pulling out a handful of fries like she owned them.

Storm looked up from her phone. "Wait, you guys took that long at the drive-thru?" Her eyes narrowed as she studied us.

"Did you stop somewhere else? Or were you—" She paused, eyebrows raising slightly, before shaking her head. "Never mind."

I furrowed my brows. "What?"

"Nothing." She smirked, going back to scrolling.

Madelyn bit her lip, nudging me with her elbow. "She's so judging us right now."

I ignored the way my stomach flipped at her touch. "She judges me daily. It's fine."

A few minutes later, we all migrated to the couch, claiming spots before the best seats were taken. Madelyn didn't even pretend to hesitate before pulling me down with her.

She curled up against my side like it was nothing, tucking herself neatly beneath my arm as she tossed the blanket over both of us.

I barely had time to process it. The warmth of her, the way her body pressed against mine so easily, the fact that my arm instinctively wrapped around her waist like we always sat like this.

No one said a word about it.

But Storm noticed.

She walked into the room holding her drink, pausing in the doorway for half a second as her gaze flickered between me and Madelyn.

She didn't say anything—just arched a single, knowing eyebrow before taking a seat on the floor near the coffee table.

I ignored the way my face burned.

From the other side of the couch, Caleb made a dramatic tsk tsk sound. "Uh-huh. I see what's happening here."

Madelyn didn't even flinch, but I felt her smirk against my shoulder. "What do you see, Caleb?"

He gestured wildly between us. "This! The classic 'we're just friends, but we're literally cuddling' move. It's all happening."

Storm snorted, taking a sip of her drink. "I mean... he's not wrong."

Madelyn sighed dramatically. "Caleb, you could put two people in the same room, and you'd start writing wedding vows in your head."

He pointed at her. "Okay, but if there were wedding vows to be written, I'd expect an invite. And a speech."

Lili groaned from her corner. "Oh my God, shut up and press play already."

I reached for the remote, but Madelyn's fingers caught my wrist, stopping me. "Wait," she whispered, low enough that only I could hear. "You're okay with this, right?"

The question hit me harder than it should have.

I glanced down at her—at the way she was curled up into me, her face so close to mine that I could count the faint freckles dusting her nose. I could've pulled away. I should've pulled away.

But I didn't.

Instead, I gave her waist the smallest squeeze. "Yeah," I murmured back. "I'm good."

Madelyn's smile was soft, but her eyes held something else—something more.

Before I could analyze it, the movie started.

For the first half hour, I tried to focus on Shrek. I really did.

But Madelyn was still tucked against me, warm and comfortable, and every time she laughed at something, her breath fanned lightly against my neck, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

At one point, she reached for more fries, her fingers brushing against mine in the process. She smirked slightly, tilting her head up to look at me.

"Still tolerating me?" she teased.

I smirked back. "Barely."

Madelyn hummed, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the blanket. "Could've fooled me."

Storm, from the floor, side-eyed us. "You guys do realize you're in a room full of people, right?"

Madelyn barely moved, just snuggling deeper into my side. "Yeah. And?"

Storm just rolled her eyes, muttering, "Unbelievable."

I exhaled a laugh, shaking my head. But my heart was hammering, and I was painfully aware that Madelyn still hadn't moved away.

And the thing was?

Neither had I.

.  .  .

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The apartment was quieter now.

The chaos of movie night had finally died down, leaving behind only empty popcorn bowls, half-drunk sodas, and the lingering warmth of laughter still hanging in the air. Everyone had left—well, almost everyone.

I was still here.

The others had shuffled out a while ago, but I'd stayed behind, offering to help clean up.

Y/n had protested, of course, claiming that she could "handle a few bags of trash." But I'd ignored her, as I usually did when she was being stubborn.

Which led to now.

Just the two of us, alone in her bedroom, the door lazily half-shut behind us.

I sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed, my fingers absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the hem of my hoodie.

Y/n was leaning against her desk, arms crossed, her gaze focused on something in her hands—an old movie ticket stub she must've found while cleaning.

"You keep these?" I asked, nodding toward it.

Y/n glanced up, smirking. "Yeah. Some of them."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's kinda cute."

"Wow. Cute. What an insult."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I meant it in a good way."

She hummed, unconvinced, but a small grin tugged at her lips anyway. She walked over, plopping down on the bed beside me, her shoulder brushing against mine as she stretched her legs out.

It was quiet for a moment, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it was too comfortable.

Being with Y/n was easy—easier than it should've been. And that was the problem.

I turned slightly, resting my chin on my knee as I looked at her. "You always keep stuff like that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I like remembering things. Some nights, I'll find old notes or tickets, and it just reminds me of... I don't know. Good moments, I guess."

I bit my lip, watching her. "And tonight?"

Y/n turned her head, meeting my gaze. "What about it?"

"Is this one of those moments?"

The air shifted.

It was subtle, but it was there. The way her fingers tightened slightly against the sheets. The way her breathing slowed just a fraction. The way her eyes flickered down to my lips for a millisecond—so fast I almost convinced myself I'd imagined it.

Almost.

I swallowed. "Y/n—"

"Madelyn."

The way she said my name—it was different this time. Lower. More certain.

I was so screwed.

My throat felt dry. "Yeah?"

Y/n hesitated, like she was fighting something in her head. "Can I—"

Before she could finish, I did something that completely bypassed every rational thought in my brain.

I leaned in.

It was soft, barely more than a brush at first. But the moment our lips met, I felt Y/n exhale sharply—like she'd been holding her breath this whole time.

She didn't pull away.

And neither did I.

Instead, she kissed me back. Just for a second. Just long enough for my heart to completely forget how to beat properly.

But then, just as fast as it happened—she pulled away.

I blinked, still caught somewhere between holy shit and what did I just do?

Y/n let out a breath, then forced a small, lopsided smile. "Guess we got caught in the moment, huh?"

It was a joke. I knew it was. But it still made something ache deep in my chest.

I forced myself to match her smile. "Yeah. Guess so." But she was lying.

And I knew it.

.  .  .

It had been a few days since the movie night, I was happy I was seeing Y/N again. I wasn't supposed to be here this late though.

At least, that's what I told myself as I scrolled absently through my phone, curled up on Y/n's couch, waiting for her to get out of the shower.

Storm had fallen asleep an hour ago, her soft snores barely audible through the cracked door of her bedroom.

I had picked her up from school since Y/n got caught in an overtime call with Caleb, and Lili was working late. It wasn't a big deal—I had already been in the area, and Y/n had texted me asking if I could help.

So I did. I made sure Storm ate, finished her homework, packed her things for the next day. I even stayed after she fell asleep because... well, because I wanted to.

And now, here I was. Still here. Because somehow, leaving didn't seem like the best option, like I said, I wanted to see her.

The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled me from my thoughts, and I looked up just as Y/n stepped out, towel-drying her hair, sweatpants hanging low on her hips.

Her hoodie was slightly oversized, the sleeves pushed up to her forearms as she ran a hand through damp strands, shaking them out.

I stared. Not obviously. But enough to know I was definitely staring. She smirked when she caught me. "See something you like?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes to play it off. "Please. I was just surprised you actually own clothes that aren't firefighter gear or basketball shorts."

Y/n plopped onto the couch next to me, body warm from the steam of her shower. "Wow, my best friend, everyone. Here to humble me at all times."

I grinned. "That's what I'm here for." She leaned her head back, exhaling. "You really didn't have to stay, you know."

I shrugged. "I know. But I wanted to."

Something flickered in her eyes before she smirked again. "You just wanted an excuse to raid my snack stash, didn't you?"

I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest. "How dare you."

Y/n chuckled, shifting to face me more, her knee bumping against mine. "So, how was Storm? Did she give you the usual 'Madelyn, I'm too grown for bedtime' speech?"

I laughed, nodding. "Of course. But I pulled the 'I know where Y/n hides the ice cream' card, and she folded like a house of cards."

Y/n grinned. "Bribery. Nice. You're learning."

"What can I say?" I stretched my arms behind my head. "Hanging out with you is rubbing off on me."

Y/n tilted her head slightly, studying me in that way she always did when she was trying to figure something out. "I hope some things rub off on you."

The weight in her voice made my breath hitch. I swallowed. "Oh? Like what?"

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she reached out, almost absentmindedly, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

And just like that, the teasing was gone. Her fingers lingered near my jaw, her eyes flickering to my lips before meeting my gaze again.

She was so close. Do it, my brain screamed. Kiss her again.

So I did. I leaned in, closing the space between us, and the second our lips met, Y/n melted into me.

The kiss was slow at first—careful, testing. But then Y/n let out a quiet sound against my mouth, and suddenly, everything shifted. Her hands gripped my waist, pulling me onto her lap.

I gasped against her lips, but she swallowed the sound, her fingers sliding under my hoodie, palms pressing against bare skin.

I should've been surprised. I should've questioned this. But all I could think about was how good this felt—how right it felt.

I shifted against her, my legs straddling her thighs, pressing closer, letting my body mold into hers. The way she reacted—the sharp inhale, the tightening grip—made heat pool in my stomach.

I rolled my hips against her once, testing. Y/n let out a low curse, her hands flying to my hips, holding me there. Something electric shot through me at the sound. I did it again.

Her breath stuttered. Our kisses turned hungrier, messier. Her tongue traced the seam of my lips before sliding against mine. I tangled my fingers in her damp hair, gripping slightly, pulling her closer. She let me. She wanted me to.

I grinded against her, slowly, deliberately, a couple of times. I could feel her through the thin fabric of her sweatpants—harder than I expected, more than I expected—and the realization made something tighten deep inside me.

Another slow, deliberate grind, the pressure of her against me making me bite my lip so hard I nearly drew blood. I let my head tip back, eyes fluttering shut, my body pulsing at the feel of her, firm and warm, pressing exactly where I wanted her.

I was desperate now, pressing down harder, slower, making sure she felt every single inch of me against her.

Y/n's breath came out in a sharp exhale, her hands gripping my waist tighter, like she was fighting herself, fighting the instinct to pull me closer but failing.

I rolled my hips again, dragging myself against her, and this time, I felt all of her. My throat went dry. Oh my God. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat crashing over me. I did it again, more deliberate this time, pressing down just right.

Y/n groaned softly, her fingers digging into my waist, her body responding to me now, her hips bucking up to meet mine. I gasped, the friction making me pulse, my thighs tightening around her.

I bit my lip again, harder this time, as I rocked against her with purpose, setting a rhythm that was slow, teasing, but deliberate enough that there was no mistaking what I wanted. I felt her again. Growing harder. Hot. Solid. Pressed perfectly where I needed it.

The