1.
Riri balked as Shuri’s eyes crinkled with poorly disguised humor.
“You promised not to laugh,” she complained, attempting to pull away, but she couldn’t get far. Their legs were entangled, a deceptively strong arm around her waist, keeping her snugly on top of Shuri. Riri braced herself on her forearms, trying to achieve some semblance of distance.
“I’m not-I’m not laughing,” Shuri insisted, lip quivering as she avoided their gaze, “It's just-”
“It's what?” Riri glowered as Shuri pinched her cheeks, looking terribly fond.
“You’re cute when you get all worked up,” Shuri shared, smile stretching wide--those damned dimples stealing the show. “I’ve always admired your passion.”
Thats-
Riri jerked her head away, “Stop that,” she grumbled, “You can’t talk your way out of this.”
First she bullies her into talking about her shitty day, then she laughs?
Riri has blocked her for less.
Shuri schooled their face, donning a serious expression, thumb pressing into the hollow of her cheek, “I’m very, very sorry,” she said, her soft voice crumbling Riri’s resolve easily.
Maybe she could talk her way out of this.
“...Sorry for what?”
“For laughing at you-” Shuri snorted, eyes shutting as she tried again, “For laughing at your unique and difficult situation,” her shoulders were shaking at this point as she rapidly lost her composure again.
“Shuri—!”
Shuri’s head fell back, no longer able to hold back a wheezing laugh.
“Ugh, you suck—“ Riri said. Although at this point she was fighting back a grin of her own. Shuri’s laugh was equally as infectious as it was infuriating.
And now that Riri thought about it… it was a little funny.
-
2.
Riri wasn’t sure how it started.
Maybe it was the long work hours, maybe it was the distance between them, but Shuri picked up the oddest hobbies.
Riri suspected the habit started long before the two started dating. Shuri didn’t hide the fact that they didn’t have a lot of close friends their age growing up.
The older Shuri got, the more responsibilities she took on--so most of the time her attention revolved around her lab. Most of the time.
Three months ago, while the lab was undergoing mandatory deep cleaning, Shuri decided to reconstruct early, 19th-century looms entirely of edible materials. Last month when they were getting fitted at the tailors, she drafted up plans on how to replicate the tiny people from Adventure Time on a napkin. If it wasn’t for the Wakandan Council, she’d be producing a 6-Act play with them at this point.
Riri had hoped they'd decide to watch Star Trek this month, but Shuri went in an entirely different direction.
Shuri claimed it stemmed from her ongoing interest in linguistics, communication, and literary practices. Which is bullshit. She lost a bet to one of her online friends and now was unironically hooked on reading the weirdest assortment of erotica known to man.
It was funny in the beginning, especially since Shuri started reading and recording excerpts and sending it over. Riri had no clue what was happening most of the time, but she liked hearing Shuri’s voice when they couldn’t call. She was also glad that this hobby didn’t create the second-coming of Ultron.
It became a problem when-
“-swept across your lower lip, softly parting your lips as she forced your chin up. In the flickering candle light, you shivered at the sight of The Princess, glowing and lovely. The silk of her robe slowly fell open as she leaned in closer. Soft lilac, a curling scent that filled those scant inches between you two. She was close enough that you could see the beads of water dipping between the valley of her chest, and feel the, heat emanating from her skin, fresh out the bath—“
Shuri had discovered that people wrote erotica about herself. But she wasn’t weirded out by it--no she was genuinely interested in it.
It was one thing to listen to stories about sentient, paper-clip schlongs and were-wolf orgies. It’s an entirely different matter to listen to her very attractive girlfriend read outloud, in remarkable detail, how attractive she is and all the filthy scenarios apparently everyone with internet access wanted to do to her.
“—you moaned, not caring who might hear at this point. A coiling heat ravaged your body, your mind. Your thighs trembled as her fingers curled inside you, dragging and cruel. You wondered how she looked at you in that moment, a disgusting cheater still crawling back home begging for more--”
Riri was losing it.
She had never been this horny in her life and Shuri wasn’t even there. It didn’t matter what she was reading at this point, her voice alone was more than enough, but it wasn't enough because Shuri wasn’t taking it seriously-
“--breath tickling the back of her neck, scalp stinging as she-”
Riri covered her mouth, stopping whatever sound was about to come out. She was uncomfortably warm as she pressed her thighs together—homework, thoroughly forgotten at this point.
After taking a few breaths to gain her bearings, she blurted out, “I hate you-”
Shuri stopped mid-paragraph, “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“How…” Riri made an attempt to phrase it carefully, setting aside her textbook as she picked up the phone to bring it closer, “Would you feel if I read porn about myself while you’re in a meeting or trying to get work done?”
“...Do the stories bother you now?”
“I don’t mind them,” Riri clarified, knowing she had more than a few of them bookmarked, “But we haven’t seen each other in awhile and the messages are leaving me a bit…frustrated.”
“Frustrated?” Shuri echoed, surprise flitting in her tone, “Sexually?”
Which, fair enough. They both had interesting relationships with sex, so it was never an issue before in their long-distance relationship.
Shuri’s sex-drive was lower and her interest in it was usually attached to her interest in Riri. Meanwhile Riri’s attention was often scattered, her sex-drive as well. She could barely focus long enough to eat, much less masturbate, without getting distracted.
So when they were together, they were together. When they weren’t, it was far too easy to forget about sex with their busy schedules. But with all the audio messages-- it kind of made her hyper-aware of Shuri in a way she hadn’t before when they were separated.
Riri tried to explain as much, “I’m not into everything you read, but I’m into you,” she said, picking the end of her braid, “I know it’s just a joke for you, but it’s kind of a constant reminder that I can’t even try a lot of those things with you…”
Sad and horny was a terrible combination for her grades.
Shuri considered this for a moment, before she asked, “Can you FaceTime right now?”
Riri agreed, although upon seeing Shuri, she immediately regretted it.
Shuri was laying down, arm tucked beneath her pillows. The camera was close, but not close enough to hide that she was shirtless. Ink crawling up the sides of her arm and chest, plastic sheen shining.
Unbearably pretty.
Catching her staring, Shuri’s pretty mouth twitched, before she said, “Do I make you horny baby—”
“I’m hanging up—”
Riri wasn’t sure what was worse, the accent she put on, or the fact that she still found them hot.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Shuri had the decency to attempt to look apologetic. Riri waited, eyebrow arching as her thumb hovered over the big red button, “Ri, you would’ve done it too.”
“But I didn’t. You did,” Riri muttered.
“Hear me out—“
“—Or I could hang up on you, possibly block you. Even break up with you,”
“You won’t,” Shuri said with the confidence of someone who regularly hears these threats, “You like me too much, can’t get enough of me.”
Riri rolled her eyes, letting out a long suffering sigh.
Taking that as unconditional love and support for her every action, Shuri continued, “It’ll be awhile before I can visit again, but there are solutions to our problem,”
“Uh-huh,”
“I can stop sending the messages all-together, I can go back to reading about creatures of questionable proportions—“
“Weird way to describe monster coc-“
“Or we can try something new,” Shuri suggested, adjusting her pillow underneath as she turned on her side, fighting back a yawn, “Do you still have class today?”
“No—it was canceled,” Riri answered, eyeing her curiously.
“So you can get off now, right?”
“Yeah,” Riri said with a frown, “But you know how well that works for me.”
Which was shit. She was better off trying to do her homework until she calms down again.
“Keep me on the phone this time,” Shuri explained, patiently, “If the stories help you stay in the mood I can keep reading or I could just talk you through it,”
That—-could work actually. She certainly thought about using the audio messages like that before, but felt weird about it cause it was Shuri’s hobby. Was it a hobby that involved sentient cars fucking, yes. But that didn’t mean it was sexual for Shuri. Sometimes Shuri’s interest in sex had no connection to her own desires, so Riri didn’t want to co-opt it.
Seeing her interest, Shuri added, “But, I want to see it all. No hiding your face,”
“I never hide my face—“
“You always try to hide your face,”
Ugh.
“…Can I at least keep my shirt on, it’s cold,” Riri grumbled, knowing it was a losing argument, “Or is that not allowed either, your highness?”
Shuri’s lips twitched at that, looking her over, “I’ll allow it,” she surprisingly said.
Riri was propping the camera up—belatedly she realized her web-camera would’ve been better, but she had no clue where that was right now—trying to find the right angle when she caught sight of what she was wearing.
It was Shuri’s shirt.
No wonder she looked so pleased.
Riri steeled her nerves, pushing back her immediate urge to take it off out of spite because it was in fact cold.
Then another thought occurred to her, “Did I even charge it—?” She asked out loud with a frown, sliding on her ear-buds.
“Probably not,” Shuri said--Riri decided to delay taking offense to that, “But I left something by your bed last time I was there, you can try it now,” she vaguely offered, a strange look in her eye, “I forgot I bought it because of that shark-man thing.”
Riri took a cursory glance over the edge of the bed, not immediately seeing the bag in question.
She crawled to the edge, reaching under the bed, searching, “Don’t even talk about that clown, he was so fuckin’ annoying“ she complained, feeling a bag and managing to grab it without falling, “What kind of a so-called ‘shark’ breathes air anyways? Lame-ass, bottled-nose dolphin lookin’—“ she unzipped the bag, falling silent, before asking incredulously, “…This was here the whole time?”
“I was buying you an extra charger since you kept losing yours and bought this while I was there. I already washed it but—” Shuri hurridly explained. At Riri's continued silence, she then asked, ,”Is it too much?”
Riri’s hands slid alongside it, thinking it over. Thinking about Shuri’s voice, a low, playful murmur in her ear—Shuri’s eyes dragging over her as she— “I never said that,” she said, with new-found determination, reaching for her side-table, “Keep talking.”
-
3.
Riri wasn’t a jealous person.
Shuri was a jealous person, even if she hid it relatively well. It was one of the more surprising discoveries when they started dating. It certainly started more than one argument because Shuri refused to admit when something bothered her, but they always got past it.
In comparison, Riri was chill about most things. She understood that her girlfriend was a public-figure, so she knew she’d get a lot of attention and be around people who didn’t always care that she was in a relationship.
But this? This was pissing her off.
Riri’s winter coat was falling apart at this point, so the two had gone out shopping to find a new one.
Somehow, this turned into an all-day event since Shuri wanted her to attend an event as her plus-one.So then they started looking for formal attire to match their regalia.
Then Riri remembered she needed to find new work-boots. Then Shuri wanted to find a gift for another dignitary, and so on.
Shuri was having a grand old time dressing her up and finding the little boutiques to look in, so Riri didn’t mind going along with it.
The problem started when they walked into some bougie boutique Shuri wanted to check out. The owner had been trying to sink her teeth into her girlfriend the minute they walked in and wasn’t even trying to hide it.
She’d been making passive aggressive jabs at Riri every time Shuri stepped away —about her hair, her clothes, her nails. Something about looking the part of being a kept woman, whatever the fuck that means.
Riri was trying to keep it together so she wouldn't ruin the day. Or that lady’s face.
Either way, Riri was about to sink into the lowest pits of hell if she doesn’t shut the fuck up about Shuri’s arms.
Stepping into the dressing room and closing the door behind them, she said as much to Shuri.
Shuri frowned, taking a moment to process the word vomit, “You’re usually not bothered by that stuff, did she say anything else?” she asked, zipping the dress down for her.
“I think ‘Destiny’ managed to find every possible way to call me poor,” Riri muttered, shrugging off the straps, dress sliding down.
“Which one is she?” Shuri asked, distractedly.
“She’s—“ Riri glanced at them in the mirror, following their gaze before she shook her head, amused, “No one important.”
Shuri stepped forward, arm sliding around her waist and pulling her close, hands wandering past her hips, “Exactly, no one important,” she said, squeezing as she nosed the nape of her neck, breath sending a shiver down her spine, “If someone doesn’t respect you, I don’t respect them.”
Riri nodded, leaning into their embrace with a reluctant smile. It was odd, feeling that building irritation washed away so easily, but she was right. She doesn’t matter and they didn’t have to stay here and put up with her weird-ass customer service.
“We should go look at suits, all these dresses are shit,”
-
4.
Riri blindly stumbled into the bathroom, a guiding hand on the small of her back. The door slammed behind her, lock clicking, the thumping music now muffled.
Utterly drenched in a sour smelling combination of jungle juice and expired food, her eyes were screwed tight, stinging, as she fumbled to turn on on the sink. She dumped her face in the sink, water splashing everywhere as she desperately rinsed her eyes.
“Fuck-ass white boy,” Riri spat, accepting the offered paper towels. She scrubbed her face, uncaring of the roughness against her skin, “It’s not my fault his daddy cut him off—“ she sneered, “What am I a charity?”
Now dry, she looked up, anger faltering as she saw the state of her costume in that dingy, frat-house mirror.
Patchy streaks of cheap makeup peeling up, puffy eyes still watering, and a busted lip stared back at her. The costume itself looked less like Frakenstein’s monster and more-so like she stumbled out of a bar fight—covered in crusting goop and an ever persistent smell of alcohol that was starting to make her head hurt.
A wave of disappointment settled over her as she picked at the costume. She had been planning this costume for weeks, dammit. It was Shuri’s first Halloween and the pair wanted to dress up so they chose Frankenstein's Monster and The Bride respectively. Riri had always been obsessed with the book, the movies, all of it and this was her first time dressing up.
Of course she couldn’t even enjoy this.
“I look like shit,” Riri said weakly as she fought back tears. But before she could scrub the rest off, Shuri gently pried the paper towels from her hands, tossing them.
Riri didn’t have much fight in her, begrudgingly accepting as strong hands lifted her up onto the counter. She let her eyes close, listening to the running of water. A gentle hand tilted her face up, dabbing away at her makeup.
Shuri didn’t speak right away, but she could hear them thinking as they cleaned her up. They didn’t comment on the tears running hot down her cheeks, only wiping them away as they fell.
Riri was thankful for the silence. It let her salvage what was left of her pride at the moment. She didn’t like crying about something so stupid. She didn’t like crying in front of other people, period.
Even if it was her Girlfriend.
Riri managed to calm down eventually as the last of the makeup was wiped away.
Riri picked at her nails, eyes downcast, “Thanks…” she muttered, “Sorry about all this.”
“…Why are you apologizing?” Shuri asked, chilly.
Riri stilled, looking up.
Shuri looked pissed.
“I…saw him earlier. I knew he still had problems with me and we should've left before all this happened,” Riri explained, hands fidgeting in her lap, “I let work shit ruin the night.”
Shuri looked even more displeased with her answer, lips pressed thin, “…Do your clients often retaliate ?” she asked carefully.
“Well—“ Riri started, then immediately realized where this was going.
Fuck.
Shuri wasn’t mad at her for ruining the date night she was—
Okay, Riri dealt with bullshit encounters on occasion. Nothing too crazy, all things considered. She didn’t just work with undergrads , so a lot of careers were on the line. But it wasn’t terrible. She’s had far more emotionally damaging encounters from dating then from her clients. But.
Shuri wouldn’t see it like that.
Riri looked off to the side, “It doesn’t matter…”
“You were hurt, of course it matters.” Shuri scowled, “I should’ve been there before it got that far,” she muttered, thumb still brushing over her now bare face.
Riri leaned into her hand, “I’m fine,” she reassured her softly. She watched Shuri's expression, dark eyes still colored with concern. Frowning a bit, Riri reasoned, “It was only food and drinks. It’s nothing to worry about.”
Shuri looked thoroughly unconvinced, but she still wasn’t saying anything. Only thinking, thumb continuing stroking Riri’s face, jaw screwed up-- tight betraying her emotions.
It only made Riri more nervous, mouth running before she could second-guess herself, “I can take care of myself,” she said, before seriously tacking on, “It’s not your fault.”
Shuri’s lips pursed at that, still thinking, an all familiar stubborn glint in her eye, “I know,” she said evenly.
Did she?
Riri sighed, covering Shuri’s hand with her own, fingers intertwining. Feeling the divots of her cool skin against her own, the smell of her lotion faint and comforting. Her body relaxed at the sensations. It was odd how easily she responded to them. How easily she succumbed to comfort and security after so many years of being tightly winded up over every little thing.
To Riri, Shuri was always safe in ways no other person or place could be. She didn’t have to worry if she’d always be there--if she’d survive whatever bad-luck trailed after Riri-- because Shuri was an inevitability that the universe could not deny. No matter the odds or outcome, Shuri always finds a way.
It was a shame she couldn’t grant them the same ease, far more trouble then not.
“You can’t blame yourself every time I get hurt,” Riri said, “You’ll be stuck feeling bad all the time
It’s something she’d picked up on before, but it seemed to only become more intense over time. Shuri didn’t half-ass anything, relationships included. Love, pride, and effort tangled together, complicated and precious in Shuri’s eyes.
Shuri couldn’t control everything. Especially when it came to Riri. Nothing ever went right when it came to Riri. She was always one miscalculation away from a major fuck up so there’s no point in getting worked up about it.
That all familiar stubborn look narrowed in on Riri once more.
Seems like she was done thinking.
“ …You can’t blame yourself every time someone hurts you,” Shuri finally said,
Riri’s heart winced.
The uncomfortable pressure in her chest climbed her throat as it fully sunk in. “What--What do you mean?” Riri said, a little bit desperate to make the feeling stop.
Shuri raised an eyebrow, “You know what I mean,” she said, patiently, “You always try to apologize for the fault of others, why?”
“I don’t do that,” Riri insisted, rather childishly.
Does she do that?
It was her business, her clientele. She knew the risks, but didn’t respond accordingly this time. Why would it be anyone else’s fault? Her inaction could have created a far more dangerous situation for everyone else.
Who else was there to blame--Why wouldn’t she blame herself?
If it truly wasn’t her fault, then why was she always getting hurt? Why did everyone else get caught up in her mess? Was she just that unlucky?
If that were the case, she wouldn’t be in control of anything.
Pressed against the cool bathroom counter, Shuri hovering over her, hands cradling her face, she had nowhere to hide. If Shuri wanted to press it, she could, but thankfully—
“We can talk about it tomorrow morning,” Shuri suggested.
The relief was immediate. But so was the--
Riri blinked rapidly, that choking feeling spilling over all at once. Painfully exposed, she tried to retreat, but was guided into Shuri’s arms before her tears fell. It took a moment for her to understand the nonsense that came out of Shuri;s face.
“Why are you apologizing?” Riri grumbled into their chest, hands holding onto their costume tight.
“I made you cry.”
“You can’t make me do anything and I’m not crying,”
“Of course you’re not,” Shuri easily agreed, “Cry has a different meaning in Wakanda. I misspoke,”
“You’re full of shit,” Riri said, fighting back a smile.
“I can help you reapply the makeup if you want?” Shuri said, changing the subject.
Riri’s mood soured once more at the reminder, pulling away reluctantly, “No, we’re leaving this stupid party.”
“We can always stay in costume and watch movies back in your dorm,” Shuri suggested, “I can order out, eat you out-”
This cheeky little-
“-It’s Halloween. We can’t disregard such an important holiday after all, we have to remain festive-”
“Uh-huh,” Riri rolled her eyes, listening to their spiel. All things considered, that did sound fun, “If you do clean up, we can do whatever you want.”
A sharp, crescent of a smile spreading across Shuri’s face at her words.
Before Riri could question them further, the pair flinched as someone banged on the door of the bathroom.
“HURRY THE FUCK UP, I GOTTA PISS," A woman bellowed, speech slurred
Shuri let out a startled laugh.
A warmth settled over Riri. That complicated swirl of emotions, stilling for one pleasant moment.
5.
-
“Ah, there she is—“ Shuri teased, crouching beside Riri’s bed. She reached out, caressing the sliver of exposed forehead peeking out from the mountain of blankets.
The mountain of blankets let out a muffled groan.
“…Go away,” Riri grumbled, shrinking further into her physical pit of despair.
She’d been losing the fight to a horrific wave of nausea and cramps for the past few hours. Her period effectively ruined any good mood she had about Shuri’s visit.
That bitch had the audacity to be early the one week Shuri could visit this month. She missed all the signs, assuming her emotions were all over the place because she missed her girlfriend.
“I can leave after I check on my patient,” Shuri offered.
Because of course she’d say that. And she probably meant it too, even though she was supposed to stay with Riri this week.
At that, Riri peeled back the layers of blankets. “You’re being too nice,” she complained, blearily staring at them.
Far too bright.
It was difficult to be properly irritated when it all bounced off of her. Shuri always thought her moods were cute, ugh.
Riri can’t be an asshole in these conditions.
Before she could kick Shuri out, her ears perked up, hearing the crinkling of bags, something being set down on her side table.
“I brought food,” Shuri offered, head tilting, innocuous.
“…You can stay.”
Riri rolled on her side, emerging to see what she brought.
Seeing her face, Shuri smiled, leaning forward to kiss her, but Riri squirmed away.
“M, gross,” Riri explained, nose curled at the thought as she picked up the chopsticks.
Shuri gave her a flat look, “You are not gross,” she said.
“Don’t be so serious,” Riri rolled her eyes, “I’m gross now,” she said, she waved the chopsticks in the air for emphasis, “Haven't brushed and I’m all sweaty and smelly—therefore gross.“ .
Shuri leaned against the headboard, “Do you want me to kiss you or not?” she asked.
Riri paused at the question, stabbing her food, “…Yes,” she muttered, suddenly embarrassed.
“Yes what?” Shuri teased.
Riri scowled, refusing to repeat herself. Undeterred, Shuri smoothed Riri's forehead with one hand, a soft smile pressing against her skin soon after.
Riri closed her eyes, now having to brace herself for the fluttering storm that threatened to take hold of her body.
Ugh.
It didn’t take long before Riri was coaxed into letting her into the bed.
Riri was nestled between the blankets and Shuri’s lap, mood thoroughly improved because of Shuri’s newest trinket. An excellent heating pad.
Riri lethargically stretched, eyes fluttering closed as she sank further into the sensation that could only be described as bliss. Letting out a sigh, she smiled sweetly up at her girlfriend and said, “Y’know I love you right?”
Shuri hummed non-committedly, fingers tracing circles into the back of Riri;s neck, “I can’t let you keep the heating pad,” she gently informed her, already guessing where this was going.
“Huh?” Riri blinked up at her, taking a moment to process it, “Why not?” she asked, although it came out like a whine.
It was a really nice heating pad, okay.
Shuri stilled, hesitating.
Riri perked up, “Does…” she reached under the blankets, a gleam in her eye, “Does this have vibranium in it?”
Shuri’s mouth was firmly closed, but her now firm grip on Riri’s wandering hand told a different story.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Riri challenged, wiggling her fingers half-heartedly to escape.
“I can neither confirm or deny that,” Shuri said, evasively, “But I can make you another one.”
“I like this one.”
It was a little funny watching Shuri’s internal struggle. It wasn’t often that Riri outright asked for something and normally she'd jump at the chance to provide.
“I can’t. You don’t have security clearance,” Shuri finally admitted with much difficulty, which isn't surprising. They had this discussion every other week.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Riri said, “It's just a little peek.”
Shuri raised an eyebrow, “And risk letting your mind ruminate?” she said, shaking her head at the thought.
Riri had managed to create a device that detected Vibranium, without access to the mineral itself. Shuri has witnessed the potential she had with unfettered access to it. A little peek for Riri was more than enough information for her to uncover a major scientific breakthrough,
“There are talks of certain agencies trying to scout you, so the elders have requested we restrict your access even further until--well-”
“Until what?”
“Until we get married.” Shuri couldn’t help but grin.
Riri paused, thinking, “That long?”
Shuri’s nose curled at that, displeased, “We could be married by the end of the season if you’d accept my proposal-”
“We’re too young.” Riri easily countered, rolling over to settle on her other side and idly adjusting the God-sent heating pad.
They also had this discussion every other week.
“Youth is relative,” Shuri insisted, “Both of our parents were engaged at our age. You’d get. Dual citizenship, your own lab-- fully funded-”
Riri closed her eyes, “That’d be nice.”
“A honeymoon in Thailand would be even nicer-”
Riri snorted, “What? Are you trying to bait me now?”
Shuri leaned down, “Is it working?” she asked, not waiting for an answer. Riri squirmed, trying and failing to keep a straight face as feather-light kisses attacked her face, a compelling argument indeed.
“We can have a long engagement,” Shuri whispered, a breath away, eyes flicking down, getting a bit distracted herself, “Don’t you want to go to council meetings and give your fiancé a break from bureaucracy?”
Riri opened her eyes to meet her intense stare, “Your girlfriend only wants to know how you made the heating pad,” she explained with barely concealed mirth, “That’s it.”
For now.
Riri slowly sat up to close the distance, but Shuri pulled away, a stubborn look in her eye. “Have you tried the next setting?” she asked instead, hand moving under the blankets once more.
All coherent thoughts left Riri. Her body sank back into the blankets, only managing to sigh as she curled around her fiance once more.
-
+1
Shuri’s face was impassive, illuminated by the seemingly never-ending stream of holographic images, videos, and text projected in front of her.
She scrolled through the files at a near frantic pace, but that itch beneath her skin only grew as she poured over the material. Every so often, she’d glance over at a smaller window; checking the security footage to make sure no one would discover her nightly activities.
Typically she wouldn’t have cared, it is her lab after-all, but-
Despite her best efforts, soft footsteps padded behind her, strong arms slipping around her waist and pulling her close.
Shuri sucked in an uneasy breath, body surrendering to the embrace.
Riri’s face pressed against the hard line of Shuri’s spine, letting out a throaty groan, “Your security needs to be upgraded, “ she offhandedly commented, sleep laden voice stealing the rest of Shuri’s attention.
Shuri glanced back, mouth lifting, “There’s not much I can do to keep you out,” she said quietly, covering her hands with her own, “You should go back to bed. I’ll be there soon.”
"Bullshit,” Riri said, not even entertaining the thought. Instead she asked, “Was the meeting that bad?”
Shuri’s mouth pressed into a thin line, “No it was fine,” she said with great effort.
It was more than fine. The ongoing negotiations between Wakanda and Talokan were progressing unnervingly well, all things considered. Part of her was relieved. The stronger the bond between the two nations, the better. An end to the violence, to the never ending loss, was more than she could ever ask for, but.
It was disturbing to watch.
Seeing everything fall into place so smoothly. As if the losses endured on both sides were necessary sacrifices for the greater good.
It was a pestering thought, a rotten sickness that stuck to her every fold and spoiled every crevice. Days, months, years could pass, but Shuri could never imagine being clean again.
Even if she got it wrong that time, there has to have been a solution she overlooked. Another way to prevent it all.
Riri said something else, but Shuri didn’t hear it, already captured in a slew of bitterness. Her silence must’ve stretched for too long, because
There has to be another way. Other options, anything she could’ve done to prevent it all.
Riri said something, but she didn’t hear it. Shuri’s silence must’ve stretched on for too long because she then asked.
“Do you regret not killing him?”
There was no judgment in her voice. The question was posed like any other thought she’d voice working at Shuri’s side. Curious, a refreshing bluntness that pierced through her complicated mess easily.
As such, Shuri’s response came just as easy. Her eyes closed, probing that deep ache between her heart and her throat, “Sometimes,” she admitted.
The pain wasn’t always fresh or constant. Sometimes the ease of her heart surprised her, spirit light as she could see the ultimate good being built with each passing day.
It was those small, increasingly infrequent moments of hurt that hit the hardest. A missing smile, an empty throne, wind-swept grass and no one to call out her name. It was a realization that compounded within her, growing more deadly with time.
It didn’t matter what technology she had, how many recordings she listened to, she’d never hear her Mother’s voice in person again. She’d never feel her Brother’s too-strong embrace or see her Father’s weary smile.
Then there were the undeniable big realizations. A hanging anxiety, swinging over her head, so large that it was easy to overlook. But you couldn’t forget it for long. Onee day you’d look up, an axe at your neck and blood pooling around your ankles.
It was easier when she was younger. Standing on that public stage, at her family's side, while the world’s hungry gaze narrowed in on Wakanda. Her country was simply another bone-- another nation to pick their teeth with. Now she was older, hands long-since dirtied by her inaction.
Prying eyes all falling on her in one dreadful moment.
Adulthood stripped her of all comforts and control. If it weren’t for family's wishes, she would’ve long since retreated from the world all together. It was their hope that kept her remaining pieces together, that pushed her forward, even as she was drained of everything her youth held dear.
She couldn’t change the past, but she could very well reclaim that long-dreamt future.
“-but right now, I don’t regret it,” Shuri settled on. It wasn’t much of a promise, moreso tentative acceptance for that moment in time, “The world gets stranger each year,” she murmured, eyes returning to that wall of flicking light, “We need to be prepared for anything so we won’t falter,” she then promised, hesitantly, “I’ll come to bed when I wrap this up.”
“...Alright,” Riri said, squeezing her one last time, before she pulled away.
Shuri listened to her retreating footsteps, a coldness setting in as she realized she was alone again.
She let out a breath, forcing herself to focus, but to no avail. She’d grab her sweatshirt and fiddled with the temperature, only to be distracted by the objects in the lab itself. The clicks and whirs of a machine prickling her attention in a way that it did not prior to her interruption.
A few minutes passed and Shuri briefly considered if she was losing her mind because of the strong-scent of coffee that now wafted into the lab.
Soft footsteps soon followed. Shuri was a little surprised to see Riri came back, a blanket wrapped around herself tightly as she extended a cup towards Shuri with an expectant look.
“We’re not supposed to bring drinks in here,” Shuri said as she blew lightly over the rim of her mug.
Riri raised her cup to her mouth, sipping pointedly, “If we want to cover everything before morning, we’ll need energy.”
“We…?” Shuri blinked, equal parts startled and relieved. Riri didn’t explain herself further, actions speaking far louder.
She wouldn’t leave.
A weight settled at Shuri’s side, blanket wrapping around the pair. There was a steadfast look on Riri’s face as she reached over to begin sorting through the windows herself.
She’d stay at Shuri’s side for as long as it takes.
The night stretched on, tedious and cruel as Shuri relived those frightful days and planned for a tenuous future.
And between those moments, Riri’s prodding words and unyielding grip pulled her back into the present. Again and again. And again once more.
If this is what Shuri needs, then consider it done.