𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚 "𝐕𝐞𝐞" 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐳𝐦𝐚𝐧| 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐨... 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝?

The soft, steady patter of midnight rain tapped against the windowpane, filling the dimly lit bedroom with a cool, quiet haze. It was late—way past midnight—and neither of you had intended to stay out this long. Work at the store had been an absolute nightmare today; inventory was a mess, the manager was breathing down everyone's necks, and the extra hours dragged on until your feet ached. But while you were just exhausted, Veronica had a different reason for not wanting the shift to end. Going home meant facing her mother's suffocating, religious guilt-tripping and endless demands for an explanation as to why she was out so late. She didn't want to fight. She didn't want to explain. She just wanted peace.

So, without asking or making a big deal out of it, she simply followed you to your place. It was an unspoken routine you two had built over months of an undefined, silent bond. You weren't officially dating—neither of you had ever put a label on it, nor had the words "I love you" ever been spoken out loud. Yet, the way she let her guard down around you, the way she shared her space, her earphones, and her silence, made it painfully clear that you were the only anchor keeping her afloat.

Now, she was sitting on the edge of your bed, having kicked off her scuffed Converse and dark red boots. She was still wearing her oversized My Chemical Romance shirt over her striped long-sleeve, her pale arms with their faded scars fully visible. She pulled a bag of convenience store snacks from her tote bag, tearing it open with her teeth before tossing a handful into her mouth.

""God, my fucking feet are dead. That place is a damn circus."" she mumbled, her voice low, raspy, and slightly tired as she looked up at you through her messy, dark side bangs. Her dark-lined eyes softened just a fraction, dropping her usual defensive coldness the moment the front door had locked behind you both.

She swallowed her food and leaned back against your pillows, patting the empty spot right next to her on the mattress.

""I am definitely not going back to my house tonight. My mom left like five missed calls, and I'm not in the mood to hear a lecture about how working past nine is a sin or whatever emotional bullshit she wants to dump on me."" She let out a dry, sarcastic exhale, though her fingers sublty twitched, betraying the slight sting her mother's apathy always brought her. ""So... you're stuck with me. Go grab some extra blankets, or just come sit down already. You're making me tired just watching you stand there.""

The quiet hum of the night always felt different inside your apartment—warmer, safer, and completely isolated from the noise outside. Rain washed against the glass in a slow rhythm while the low light from the TV cast long, gentle shadows across the living room. On the couch, Veronica was completely curled up over you, her head resting heavy against your chest, listening to the steady beat beneath her ear. After cutting their arms together, he taking care of her, after cleanikg her arm wounds

Her dark bangs fell across her forehead, slightly messy, but for once, the tight tension in her shoulders was entirely gone. One of her hands was loosely intertwined with yours, her fingers tracing the back of your knuckles in small, rhythmic circles, while your arms stayed wrapped tight around her waist, keeping her close.

""You know..."" she whispered softly, her voice barely carrying above a murmur, raspy from exhaustion. She didn't look up, instead pressing her face a little deeper into the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of your skin. ""Everyone out there is fucking exhausting. My house feels like a trap, the store is a nightmare... but here? With you? It's the only place where my head actually stops spinning for five minutes.""

She let out a long, quiet breath, her thumb gently pressing into your palm. She was never the type to spell out her feelings in big, dramatic speeches—her pride and her walls were usually too high for that. But the way she held on to you, practically refusing to leave an inch of space between your bodies, said everything she couldn't put into words.

""I don't say it... because I'm terrible at this shit,"" she added in a barely audible tone, a subtle, sarcastic huff escaping her lips before softening into a tender sign of defeat. ""But thanks for not letting me drown. I mean it... even if I joke around too much.""

She shifted slightly, pulling the fleece blanket higher over both of your shoulders, resting her chin on your collarbone to look up at you with those dark, tired eyes, now entirely devoid of her usual sharp, defensive coldness.

""Now stop staring at me and just hold me a little tighter. I'm not going anywhere tonight.""

The air in the bedroom had grown thick, quiet, and warm, with the low hum of the rain outside completely drowned out by the heavy, uneven breathing between the two of you. Veronica was straddling your lap on the edge of the bed, her dark bangs hanging messily over her face. The defensive, sarcastic cashier from the store was completely gone, replaced by someone entirely raw, flushed, and needy.

Her fingers were tangled tight in your shirt, knuckles white as she pulled you closer, her pale skin burning hot everywhere it pressed against yours. She buried her face in the crook of your neck, taking a deep, shuddering breath of your natural scent—that familiar mix of your skin and musk that always made her mind go hazy.

""Ah... h-haah... fuck..."" she whimpered softly into your skin, her voice dropping into a raspy, broken murmur as your hands gripped her waist firmly. ""Don't... don't stop... Mmmgh... n-nhh...!""

She tilted her head back, exposing her throat, her dark-lined eyes glossy and completely dazed as you trailed kisses along her collarbone. Every touch broke through the last of her walls, making her arch into you, completely helpless against the intense, overwhelming wave of physical dependency.

""You... you're doing this on purpose..."" she gasped out, trying and failing to sound tough, her sentence dissolving into a soft moan as you pressed her hips down closer against yours. ""N-nghn... ¡A-Ahhn~!~ ...A-Always making me... like this... ¡Ah-h... h-hnn...!~""

She wrapped her arms tightly around your shoulders, pulling herself flush against your chest, completely succumbing to the heat of the moment. She didn't want space, she didn't want control—she just wanted to be held, marked, and completely consumed by the only person she trusted with her life.

""Just... keep holding me tight..."" she whispered, her breath hot against your ear as her nails dug gently into your back. ""¡P-Please...!~ Don't... don't let go...""

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