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Sunsets in the city are gorgeous. The light filters through the smoke and dust of the air, turning it vibrant pink-orange. The view from the roof of Shelby’s apartment is one of the best she’s seen - and she’s seen a lot, over the years.
Nearly every evening, Shelby (in bat form) flies up to the rooftop to watch the sunset, and to catch their breath after the events of the day. Often, they’ll also visit the roof in the middle of the night - sleep doesn’t come easy to them. Since the roof is pretty off-limits to building residents, officially, she can be certain no one will bother her. The silence helps them to calm down.
Even Scott has learned that the rooftop is Shelby’s place, accessible by invitation only - though he’s watched plenty of sunsets with her. Tonight, though, that invitation has been extended to a different visitor - Drift Infini.
She’d been over for dinner, as she was at least twice a week. Scott had gone out (to “meet a friend”, something he apparently did now), the lights were dimmed, the candles were lit - Drift insisted on candles. It was a lovely evening, just the two of them, and a novelty too - it was rare that Drift would come over when Scott wasn’t around.
Drift and Shelby weren’t dating, per se. At least, they weren’t right now. The idea had been brought up before, but so had the idea of either of them dating Scott, or Scott dating Abolish - that had been a weird time - or all three of them getting married for tax purposes. (What those purposes might be, no one could say.) They weren’t… a thing. They just enjoyed a nice romantic evening together once in a while. It’s nothing.
Of course, the somewhat fancy atmosphere dissolved quickly, and soon they were both laughing on the couch, throwing popcorn at each other. They were ostensibly watching a movie, but neither had paid it any attention for a long while. When the credits started to roll, Shelby had blurted “You wanna fly up to the roof and watch the sunset?”
Drift had giggled and replied “Absolutely!”
So there they were. Shelby lay flat on her stomach, doodling in her notebook. Drift was lying opposite her, watching them draw. Neither spoke. At first, the silence was peaceful, relaxing. Now it’s awkward. There isn’t really anything to say.
“I love this view. Thanks for inviting me up here,” Drift finally says.
“You’re not even looking at the sunset, silly,” Shelby laughs.
“Excuse me, I absolutely am!” says Drift. She draws a hand over her chest, false indignant.
“Yeah, yeah.” Shelby turns to a new notebook page, then freezes, as if something had come up. She looks up to meet Drift’s gaze.
“Y’know, you’re not a bad view either,” she says, smiling.
The tips of Drift’s ears go red.
“Hey, what’re you implying?” she asks, provoking. Shelby might seem all sweet and innocent, but she can get anyone flustered. Drift… may or may not want her to try. They don't mean it, anyway. It’s nothing.
“Nothing, nothing!” Shelby balances her chin on her hands, cherubic, down to the golden sunset-halo.
“I can’t believe it. Shelby Goldsmith, purposefully misinterpreting me -”
“You’re one to talk about misinterpreting-”
“What does that even mean-”
“You started it!”
“...alright, you win.” Drift concedes. Never one to let someone else get the last word, she adds “And I wasn’t lying. I love this view.”
This time, it’s Shelby blushing.
They’ve moved from drawing in the notebook to drawing on their arms. Patterns of zigzags, spirals, and stars crawl from their hands up their forearms, swirling and twisting in the accidental way doodles are wont to do. Drift watches as she adds another star to a constellation growing on her left inner wrist.
“That looks awesome,” she observes.
“Oh - thank you,” Shelby replies, mildly surprised. “It’s just doodles, though, nothing crazy.”
“No, I mean it. It’s really cool. You’re so creative.” And she does. Drift’s tried to pick up many arts and crafts in the years since Oakhurst. Very few had stuck, drawing included. Meanwhile, art stuck to Shelby like cobwebs to a wall. She’d even drawn commissions for a while, a few decades back.
“Thank you!” they repeat. The blush creeping back into their cheeks does not escape Drift’s notice.
“I can do you too, if you want?” she offers.
“Oh my gosh, really? I’d love that,” Drift says. She rolls up the sleeves of her shirt - it’s a warm night anyway.
Shelby looks delighted. “What kind of design do you want? Oooh, I could do plants… some vines, or flowers, maybe?” they hum, mostly to themself.
“No orchids, please?” Drift says. Shelby giggles. It’s been long enough to laugh about that, at least.
“Of course!”
Shelby moves to crouch next to Drift, pen in hand. Drift nearly flinches when she first sets the pen against her skin - it’s colder than she expects, but the smooth movement is actually very nice. Calming. Shelby works steadily and gently, humming nonsense melodies as they go. Their hair brushes Drift’s skin lightly. It feels like a tipping point, a cliff’s edge. Like if anything about the moment changes, Drift will be pushed off.
Shelby has absentmindedly moved her other hand to hold Drift’s arm down, which is - fine. Totally, completely fine. She’s fine about it. It’s nothing. They look up from their work for just a moment, just to briefly catch Drift’s eyes, and she feels her face getting warmer. And that’s… fine.
Jeez, she’s pretty. And funny. And creative. And sweet. And they just get Drift, like no one else ever can. Not anyone she’s met after Oakhurst, not Scott, not anybody. And - okay, that’s enough. Calm down, Drift. She’s only drawing.
Shelby releases her arm, standing up. Drift copies her.
“Do you like it?” she asks excitedly, beaming a smile so bright you could grow plants under it. Drift looks down at her arms.
Spiraling up her right forearm is a graceful vine, periodically sprouting delicate leaves and tendrils. In the empty space between the leaves are simple flowers and four-pointed sparkles. Following the vine down her arm, she reaches a large flower on the back of her hand, wreathed by leaves. The vine sprouts from beneath it. It’s more purposeful than Shelby’s own arms, but retains a simple, doodly quality.
It’s really, really cute.
“This is incredible!” Drift exclaims, and the look Shelby gives her makes her feel like she’s going to bubble over like an overlooked pot of spaghetti.
“You really like it?” Shelby asks. “‘Cause I was gonna do something more, like, abstract, but then I thought you might like this more, but I can totally change it if you want -”
“It’s perfect. I love it.”
Drift doesn’t know why she says it; maybe because of the flirting, or the dinner, or because Drift was in a weird mood after the whole act of Shelby drawing on her arms, or because of the decades of shared looks and shared jokes and conversations about nothing and throwing popcorn at each other on the couch: “I - I love you.”
And she means it.
Shelby’s slight blush becomes much more noticeable, very quickly. Drift, internally, was not just bubbling over, but spilling her entire contents onto the floor.
I love you. There. She’d said it. It was out, even if by accident. She’d tipped off the edge.
There’s an endless moment of absolutely nothing. Drift takes a deep inhale.
Shelby laughs. And keeps laughing. And her laugh had always been contagious, so Drift starts laughing too, and she can’t seem to stop, even though she’s spilled all over the floor and pushed off the cliff and whatever other stupid metaphors she’d thought of; there are tears welling up in her eyes. She can barely breathe, she’s laughing so hard.
“I love you too,” Shelby manages, between bouts of giggles. “I love you too! And I’m so glad you said it first, because -” and then she dissolves back into giggling.
“It’s- It’s not even funny, though! Like, I’m laughing but it’s not even funny!” Drift exclaims.
“I know!”
Drift forces herself to slow down and get some air into her lungs before she genuinely starts choking. She collapses back into a sitting position, smiling like a kid at their birthday party.
“So, I’ve said it, you’ve said it… what now?”
Shelby tilts her head, confused cat, and looks at her for a long moment.
“We could kiss?” they finally ask.
Another laugh escapes Drift’s best calming-down attempts. “That sounds awesome.”
Shelby pulls her up from the roof and wraps their arms around her, and she doesn't give the sunset another glance.