Stay
The knock at the door startles Ingrid at first, but only for a second.
She knows that knock by now.
It’s Mapi.
Still, it takes her a moment to pull herself off the couch. Every limb feels like lead, her body protesting the movement. She’s exhausted. More than exhausted. Depleted. Her muscles ache from training, her head pounds from lack of sleep, and the shadows under her eyes are so dark they look bruised.
But she still answers the door. Because it’s Mapi, and Mapi has done nothing but give to her. So she forces her feet to move, unlocking the door and pulling it open.
And there she is. Smiling, as always, with a bag in her hand, her eyes bright and warm despite the late hour.
“Hola, amiga,” Mapi greets, breezing past Ingrid into the apartment without waiting for an invitation, like she’s been here a thousand times before. Like she belongs here.
Ingrid barely reacts. She just sighs, rubbing at her temple, and closes the door behind her. “What’s in the bag?” she asks, voice hoarse from exhaustion.
Mapi, now in the kitchen, places the bag on the counter and starts unpacking. “Comida,” she says simply, pulling out a plastic container and setting it down. “No te preocupes, I already ate, but you? You probably didn’t, and I don’t want you looking like a walking ghost, so-“
“I ate,” Ingrid interrupts, leaning against the wall for support.
Mapi stops unpacking for a moment, tilting her head at her. “De verdad?” she asks, skeptical.
Ingrid hesitates, and that’s all the answer Mapi needs.
“Liar,” she tuts, but her voice isn’t scolding. If anything, it’s fond.
Ingrid groans, closing her eyes as her head thumps against the wall. “I’m not lying,” she mutters.
“Mhm.” Mapi hums, clearly unconvinced, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she moves on, rambling about something, words spilling out of her mouth effortlessly, like she’s always got something to say.
And Ingrid? She lets the sound of her voice wash over her. She barely listens to the words, not really. Just the rhythm of them. The warmth. The life. But then-
Mapi stops talking, and when Ingrid blinks her eyes open, she finds Mapi looking at her. Like, really looking at her. Taking in the heavy bags under her eyes, the slump of her shoulders, the way her body sags like she can barely keep herself upright.
And then, Mapi moves. Not towards the kitchen. Not towards the food she’s brought. But towards the couch. She sits in the L-shaped corner, comfortable like she’s done it a hundred times before, and then holds out her arms.
No words. Just an invitation.
Ingrid stares at her. She should say no. Her body is rigid at the very idea of it. Her instincts scream at her to keep her distance, to keep herself safe. But she’s so tired. So bone-deep exhausted that it makes her reckless.
So instead…
She moves.
Slowly. Carefully. Like approaching a wild animal. Mapi doesn’t react. Doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t push. She just waits. And Ingrid? Ingrid lets herself go. She settles against Mapi’s side, her head resting against her shoulder, her body tense at first but then-
Then.
Mapi’s arms wrap around her.
Gentle. Careful. One around her shoulders, the other at the back of her head, the pad of her thumb grazing against her scalp in the lightest, most delicate touch. Ingrid freezes. Her whole body goes stiff, her breath caught in her throat, her pulse spiking-
But Mapi doesn’t do anything else. She doesn’t pull her closer. She doesn’t push. She just waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Until Ingrid softens. Just a little, and then a little more. And then, Ingrid melts. Her eyelids grow heavier, her breathing slows, and for the first time in weeks, she lets go.
Mapi feels it. Feels the way Ingrid’s weight settles against her, the way her body yields for the first time. She risks a peek down, and her heart stutters. Because Ingrid is asleep. Actually, properly asleep. Her face pressed against Mapi’s shoulder, her breath soft and even, her body completely limp.
Mapi swallows down her excitement, forcing herself to stay still. Because now? Now she has one job. To keep her asleep. So she stays where she is. Still. Steady. And if she has to stay like this all night just to make sure Ingrid gets some rest?
She will.
*
Ingrid stirs, her body slowly waking before her mind fully catches up. The first thing she notices is the warmth. The solid, steady rise and fall of a chest beneath her cheek. Arms still wrapped around her. She goes rigid, instinct kicking in, bracing herself for the wave of panic, the jolt of anxiety, the sickening memories that usually wake her up.
But-
Nothing.
There’s no sharp inhale of terror, no immediate rush of her past forcing itself to the forefront of her mind. No nightmares clinging to her like they always do.Just…warmth. A steady heartbeat beneath her ear. The gentle weight of a hand still cupping the back of her head. Her eyes snap open then, because -what?
She’d slept. Actually slept.
And-
No nightmares. No reliving Isabelle. No choking on fear. No waking up gasping for breath with her chest aching like it was about to cave in.
That hadn’t happened in-
God.
Years.
Her heart kicks up at the realisation, a sudden spike of anxiety, because it’s terrifying how easily she let herself slip into unconsciousness. How much she trusted Mapi, whether she meant to or not. The fear of that thought starts to bubble in her chest, threatening to drag her under-
Until Mapi shifts beneath her.
“Ingrid,” Mapi murmurs, voice thick with exhaustion. “You awake?”
Ingrid swallows, forces her body to stay relaxed even as she lifts her head slightly, blinking up at Mapi.
“Yeah.”
Mapi lets out a quiet huff of amusement, shifting again before giving Ingrid a light squeeze.
“Good,” she says. “Because your stomach was making a noise so loud, I thought you were growling at me in your sleep.”
Heat rushes to Ingrid’s face immediately.
“Oh my God,” she mutters, mortified, burying her face back into Mapi’s shoulder for a moment. “That’s -shut up.”
Mapi laughs, full and bright, her hand slipping from the back of Ingrid’s head as she nudges her playfully.
“No, I will not shut up,” she teases. “Because that was the most feral sound I’ve ever heard come out of a human body.”
Ingrid groans, rubbing a hand down her face. “Okay, well, I haven’t eaten today,” she admits, voice muffled.
Mapi stills, and that makes Ingrid lift her head again. Mapi’s expression has shifted completely. The teasing glint in her eyes has dimmed, replaced by something much softer. Something concerned.
“You-“ Mapi pauses, seeming to choose her words carefully. “You haven’t eaten today?”
Ingrid shrugs, suddenly feeling very aware of how little she actually remembers about today. Had she eaten this morning? Last night? She can’t recall.
She shrugs again. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
Mapi exhales sharply, her brows drawing together in a way that makes Ingrid immediately regret saying anything.
“Okay,” Mapi says simply, giving her one final squeeze before shifting again. “Come on.”
She carefully untangles herself from Ingrid, climbing off the couch and stretching before making her way toward the kitchen where she had left the food just a few hours earlier. Ingrid stays where she is for a second, suddenly missing the warmth of Mapi’s body, the comfort of being held. But as soon as that thought registers, she pushes it down, hard, and drags herself up.
She stuffs her hands into the pocket of her hoodie, following Mapi into the kitchen, her body still heavy with exhaustion. She’d slept, sure. But not enough. Not nearly enough.
She sits at the table, slouching into her chair, barely keeping her eyes open as Mapi moves around, reheating whatever she had made earlier at her own apartment.
Ingrid’s head lolls forward, her eyelids so damn heavy she can barely keep them open. The second her body stops moving, the exhaustion hits her like a freight train, weighing her down, making it nearly impossible to fight the urge to just close her eyes and give in.
She shifts in the chair, tucking one knee up to her chest, resting her chin on it as she lets her eyes flutter shut-
Mapi halts her in her tracks by setting a plate of food down with a thud in front of her.
“Eat,” Mapi says, tone firm.
Ingrid huffs, barely lifting her head. “I’ll eat in the morning.”
Mapi crosses her arms. “That’s what you said this morning, no?”
Damn it. She slumps further, groaning into the table. “Why do you care?”
She doesn’t mean to say it, not really, but the words spill out before she can stop them. And now that they’re out there, she feels them. The frustration, the confusion. The -fear, if she’s honest. Because no one has cared. Not in a long time.
Mapi is quiet for a moment, and Ingrid almost regrets speaking at all.
And then-
“Because someone should.”
The words are simple. Soft. But they hit. Ingrid’s stomach clenches, her throat tightening, because she doesn’t know what to do with that. So, she deflects.
“Well, you shouldn’t,” she mutters, pushing herself up straighter, rubbing at her tired eyes.
Mapi just raises a brow. “Too late.”
Ingrid glares. Mapi just grins.
And Ingrid -hates her a little bit for it. Because she’s tired. She doesn’t have the energy to fight this. To argue, to push Mapi away like she should. And so, she grabs the fork, forces down a bite of food, barely even tasting it.
Mapi beams. “See? Easy.”
“Shut up,” Ingrid mutters, chewing slowly, dragging this out purely to be difficult.
But Mapi is relentless. She sits across from her, arms folded on the table, just watching her, refusing to let her stop.
It’s annoying.
It’s -infuriating.
It’s…warm.
It’s a feeling Ingrid doesn’t know what to do with. She eats slowly, dragging it out, but she does eat. She gets through the plate, just to prove something, though she doesn’t know what.
When she’s finally finished, she pushes the plate away and leans back with a sigh. “Happy?”
Mapi grins. “Very.”
Ingrid rolls her eyes, too exhausted to fight anymore. She stands, and Mapi stands with her, grabbing the plate before Ingrid can.
“I got it,” Mapi says simply, moving to the sink.
Ingrid should argue, should insist that it’s her kitchen, she can clean up her own mess.
But honestly? She’s so tired, she just lets it go. Instead, she tries to keep herself busy, moving toward the counter, collecting things, wiping at nonexistent crumbs.
Mapi notices immediately.
“Uh-uh,” she says, pointing a soapy finger at Ingrid. “Nope.”
Ingrid blinks at her. “What?”
Mapi rinses the plate, setting it aside, before turning back with a look that is entirely too knowing.
“You’re cleaning,” she says.
Ingrid shrugs. “So?”
“So,” Mapi says, wiping her hands, stepping closer. “You’re only doing it because you don’t wanna be still.”
Ingrid glares. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Mapi smirks, poking her in the side. “Yet you’re not denying it.”
Ingrid scowls, stepping away, crossing her arms over her chest. “I just-“ She huffs. “I’m not going to be able to sleep again, so I may as well do something.”
Mapi’s expression softens slightly. “You’re exhausted, Ingrid.”
“Yeah, I know,” Ingrid snaps, sharper than she means to, before exhaling, rubbing her hands down her face.
Mapi doesn’t react to the sharpness, doesn’t pull away, doesn’t push either. She just steps in close, lowering her voice.
“You slept when I was holding you,” she says, gentle but pointed.
Ingrid stiffens.
Mapi tilts her head. “Why do you think that is?”
Ingrid hates the question, because she knows the answer. She just doesn’t want to say it.
Instead, she drops her arms, rubbing at her eyes again. “I don’t know.”
Mapi hums. “I think you do.”
Ingrid swallows, throat tight, trying to ignore the way Mapi is looking at her, like she sees something Ingrid isn’t ready to acknowledge.
“I-“ She huffs, avoiding Mapi’s eyes. “It was just a fluke.”
Mapi doesn’t argue. Doesn’t push. Just nods once, and then-
“Well,” she says lightly, stretching her arms above her head before grabbing her bag from where she’d left it. “Guess I better head home, then.”
Ingrid freezes.
Wait.
She-
She’s leaving?
Mapi shoulders her bag, standing near the door. “Unless…” she trails off, raising a brow.
Ingrid glares, because he knows what Mapi is doing, and it’s working. She doesn’t want to admit it. Doesn’t want to say it. But the thought of being alone again, in the dark, in the silence-
The thought of trying to sleep without Mapi’s warmth, her steady presence…it scares her. She hates how much it scares her. Because she shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t need this. She wasn’t doing just fine on her own. She was surviving. Without Mapi. Without anyone. God forbid she got used to this and Mapi left too, there would be nothing left for her. Absolutely nothing.
But she was just…so tired. Exhausted, drained.
One night. One night, she tells herself, then she’d go back to being alone.
She huffs. “Just-“ she swallows, shifting uncomfortably. “Just stay.”
Mapi smirks, shutting the door behind her as she drops her bag. “Thought you’d never ask.”