Author/Artist: ???
Pairing(s): Elena/Mithian
Prompt: 80
Word Count/Art Medium: 2,398
Rating: G
Contains (Highlight to view): *Fluff*
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Elena's been pining over Mithian forever. Christmas may be just the time to rip off the plaster and let her know.
Read it on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12854793
Truth is, Elena was never very good at this flirting thing. No, scratch that, she has always been abysmal at the whole flirting thing. And that didn’t tend to get better when she spent half of her day with flour in her apron, or with a coffee powder smirch in her cheek or, like that one time, left-overs of chocolate chips in her hair. Not that she worked with food, she did not, exactly. Technically, she was meant to stay on the register only — Gwen knew too well the size of the mess she could make if sent to deal with bringing the food from the kitchen, or try and do one of the coffees by herself. It was a serious safety hazard, and Gwen was her friend and her boss, and neither wanted her to get hurt.
(Probably, if they hadn’t been such good friends, Gwen wouldn’t have given her a job. At least, the morning rush was such that she wouldn’t have had time to do any of those things either way, so, maybe it wasn’t that bad.)
The best part about it — which also happened to be the worst part, just in case anyone was wondering — was that it meant every morning Elena was at the shop, catering to the other students as they came for their daily caffeine fix before their classes. She might be a bit weird (and ready to admit she was weird), but it had given her a good number of acquaintances and even a few friends. There was Gwen’s boyfriend, Lance, who was one of the campus nurses and came religiously every day, and his friend Percy, who worked on the security team. There was Gwaine, whose coffee was spiked with some scotch more often than not, and whose continuous charm might have worked on her if she, you know, liked boys. There was Morgana, who was incredibly scary but mellowed out after she had her black-strong-bitter cup without any sugar. There was Sefa, who was a dear and completely smitten with Merlin, who really only had eyes for Arthur who seemed oblivious to it all (but there was, she knew, a University-wide bet on when they’d figure it out and start shagging). And, finally, the reason why her mornings were so bright, Mithian.
Mithian was… Just different. Not as different as Elena herself, but there was something about her that just shone. Looking at her, one would imagine her absolutely proper and prim, one of the beautiful, untouchable Law students that would never look twice at a Lit major like Elena — but there was more to her than that. She was always ready to laugh at herself, and did not care what others thought of her. She had been more than ready to sacrifice her own dignity if it meant that Elena wasn’t going to be the only one humiliatingly sounding like a pig when laughing.
Not falling in love with her was… Just not an option. Elena had never stood a chance.
She had hoped that the Christmas break would give her time to mend her broken heart — broken because she knew it could never be, it would never be — but unlike basically every other student, Mithian hadn’t gone home for the holidays. These last few days, with the shop empty, she had taken to sit and chat with Elena through her shift.
It really wasn’t helping with the whole mending thing.
So, Elena decided to do the next best thing: confessing.
Confessing wouldn’t be easy, in fact, it would be extremely painful (people may not believe it, but at heart, she was a shy person). It would, however, ensure that Mithian would stop making these things that just made it so damn hard to let go of her.
Christmas Eve was the morning Elena chose to put her plan in action. There would only be her and Gwen at the shop, and her friend had already announced she’d be using the shop’s kitchen to prepare her batch of Christmas cookies, and Elena probably would not have a better chance at being unheard and uninterrupted — unless she stalked Mithian through campus, which she would not do.
(What? She had never stalked Mithian through campus. She might have seen her from afar once and followed until she figured out where she lived, but that didn’t count as stalking, did it?)
Mithian arrived at the same time as usual, her leather bag filled with printed papers and one or two law books, the coloured post-its she used to mark important things sticking out of them. She was wearing the same typed of clothing as usual — underneath her winter coat, she had a white button-down shirt with pearl buttons and black trousers that ended in black boots with heels Elena could never get close to without falling on the ground. She thanked Gwen for her coffee, picked up the china cup that was offered and sat down, humming under her breath as she went through her things.
Elena did not know where to start. How does one go about declaring their feelings?
So, instead, she went through the accounting records (perfectly organised, thank you); the towels (still in place), the coffee (enough to last until, at least, the 5th of January), the muffins (tasty, but she probably now had chocolate on her teeth, damn), and the china (she broke three pieces and Gwen came out and glared at her.
“Just talk to her already!” She whispered furiously.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Elena whispered back, and Gwen gave her such a look that made her understand how Morgana and her had been friends since kindergarten).
After almost one hour of silence apart the sound of Christmas music coming through the radio, Mithian stood up and scooped her papers.
“I think I’m going home,” she said, and Elena’s heart was in her mouth.
“But — so soon?”
“I can see that you’re busy,” the girl said, eyeing the visa receipts that Elena had been organising to avoid dealing with her tumultuous feelings.
There was nothing she could say to contradict it, not without making it clear she had been avoiding Mithian, so she said the first thing that came to her head.
“Will you take some hot cocoa to go?”
Mithian frowned, as if she wasn’t sure what to say, so Elena insisted.
“It’s on the house — for Christmas.”
“Alright,” she said, offering a huge smile. “I suppose it won’t hurt to have chocolate once.”
“Oh, you don’t need to go on a diet, you look great!” Elena blurted, and immediately blushed at her own words.
Mithian grinned at it, not seeming to guess just how much it meant.
“Oh, you’re one to say! I don’t know how you look this good working in a place like this — I would never be able to resist all the temptation.”
Elena offered her a weak smile, turning to start the beverage — even if she never dealt with the machines. All while she worked, her mind was furiously working on how best to approach the whole confession business, there just didn’t seem to be enough time. Mithian’s things were already inside her bag, and she was scrolling down her Facebook feed at leisure while waiting for Elena, and finally it was the radio that made it all click.
Picking up the pen they normally used to tag the costumer’s plastic cups, she poured down her heart (with a little help from Kelly Clarkson, but who was counting?), writing the lyrics to the music that had just ended down with a flourish.
“You’re all I need
Underneath the tree."
It wasn’t quite as good as a full-on confession but that was for the best; it would be far less humiliating for her if the rejection was just Mithian disappearing, and much easier for Mithian to let her down easily. She forced herself to smile — maybe a bit too manic — before she handed in the cup.
“There you go. Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” Mithian responded with a smile of her own. She picked up the cup and waved low with her free hand before leaving the shop, not once looking at cup.
It was just then that Elena considered the flaw in her plan — maybe Mithian wouldn’t see it. Maybe she’d just throw it out, her words going to the trash were such stupid crushes belonged. That would be worse than being rejected, for she’d wait for days, until she ended up asking, and hearing, and then she’d have to go through the whole nervous business of trying to explain her feelings once again, and…
She did not stop fretting about it until Gwen came out half an hour later to offer her some of her warm cookies.
Elena ate the whole batch.
She spent the night under her blanket and watching Hallmark movies alone in her room, only a big cartoon of ice cream as her company.
(Yes, she was eating ice cream in December. Sue her. Make it better, ask Mithian to sue her to make sure she was never getting out of it free).
It was almost midnight when she heard a soft knock on her door. Elena picked up a pan on her way to check it, because, well, it was almost midnight, and she wasn’t expecting anyone, and what if it were a serial killer? Hadn’t there been a horror movie about a Serial killer let loose on a college during Christmas Season?
It was Mithian.
The girl just stood on her hallway, looking oddly at the pan in Elena’s hand, currently aimed at her head.
“Why did you bring an empty pan to the door?”
“I didn’t know who was outside!”
“And you your weapon of choice is… a pan?” Mithian asked with a snort, and Elena lowered it slowly.
“Well, I figured it was an easy one to use.”
The law student smiled at it, before leaning her head to the side.
“Won’t you invite me in?”
“Sorry!” Elena could’ve slapped her own head for the lack of manners. “Please, come in.”
“Thank you,” Mithian said, smooth as if she hadn’t almost been assaulted with a pan.
Mithian was wearing a grey cashmere jumper with a V neck that looked better than it had any right to and blue jeans. Her head was covered by a grey-and-blue beanie with an embroidered Raven.
“Ravenclaw?” Elena asked, and the girl nodded.
“Of course. Did you ever have any doubt?”
“I’m more of a Hufflepuff myself,” she replied, and Mithian laughed, sounding delighted.
“Don’t you say…”
The two of them stood in silence for a few seconds before Elena got the courage to ask the question that had been in her head.
“Erm so… I don’t mean to be rude, but… Hm… Why are you here?”
“What?” Mithian asked, as if Elena had just brought her back to reality. “Ah — right. So… It’s Christmas already.”
“So, it is,” the blond girl answered, glancing at the clock that was now showing five past midnight.
“And on Christmas, good girls get presents.”
“So, I’ve heard,” Elena agreed, wondering just where this conversation was leading.
“And I heard around that I’m the only thing you wanted under your tree.”
The comment left Elena stunned, she had been so sure that Mithian wouldn’t have seen the note, but clearly she had been wrong. She did not know what to say, because she had never considered the possibility of being confronted in her own house.
“Look, I’m sorry, Mithian…”
“I’m sorry too,” the girl said, stepping carelessly over the shards of Elena’s broken heart as the got closer. “I don’t think I fit under your tree.”
Mithian glanced towards the small bought-ready tree that was the only concession Elena had made in her flat for the season — not because she didn’t love it, but because it made her too homesick.
“But hopefully, this will do,” she continued, and she touched Elena’s face, who just couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening. Mithian’s fingers were cold against her cheek, and yet, she wanted nothing if not to lean towards it, chase the chill that seemed to spread to her stomach.
Mithian leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, and, for a moment, all that Elena could do was to close her eyes and pray she wouldn’t wake up. She counted until five, but Mithian was still pressed against her and Elena could not hold on anymore — she was kissing Mithian back, throwing her arms around the taller girl, the two of them loosing balance as her weight made Mithian step backwards and trip on the empty ice-cream carton, the two of them falling on the sofa. It was a complete mess, but it Elena had never felt more alive and, at the same time, more sure that something wasn’t happening.
It took the two of them a while to break apart, and Mithian’s eyes were soft when she brought her hands up to caress Elena’s face once again.
“I never dreamed…” She started, a small smile in her face. “I always thought you and Gwen were an item.”
The idea was just so absurd that it made Elena laugh until she fell from the sofa, straight into the floor, and still she couldn’t stop, shaking her head.
“Not… Gwen… But Lance!”
Mithian shrugged, clearly not minding being the reason for so much mirth.
“Well, I thought — I thought I was imagining things when you smiled too much. I thought it was a… we-both-like-girls-and-should-stand-together thing!” As Elena kept on laughing, she shook her head. “If I had known… I would’ve asked you out long ago.”
“Why would you?” Elena asked, gesturing towards the girl and herself. “Look at you — look at me — why…”
“Because it all don’t mean a thing if you ain’t holding me tight,” Mithian whispered, pulling her close again.
It took a second for Elena to place sentence — the song she had written in Mithian’s cup — but when she did, she smiled into the kiss.
“Good thing I was a good girl this year,” she said in between kisses, her arms around the other girl’s body.
“Not for long,” Mithian promised with a giggle. “I have plans that don’t involve being a good girl.”
Elena just laughed, kissing her again.
This was going to be a very good Christmas.