#THE WHOLE THING WITH ABBY IS THAT SHE IS TALL. SHE IS BUFF AS FUCK.
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So you’re telling me the person apparently casted as Abby is a short, small framed, conventionally attractive woman. Small enough that she almost played Ellie and she is now playing Abby?
#messrs lil rambles#I wonder if she’s just doing young Abby in flashbacks or something#they’re feeding into making Abby appeal to men I fear#THE WHOLE THING WITH ABBY IS THAT SHE IS TALL. SHE IS BUFF AS FUCK.#SHE ISNT SOLE CONVENIENTLY ATTARCTIVE SMALL HUMAN#I’m not judging I’m not. if it is her then like good for you girl#but the entire thing about Abby is that Thames just. huge#like this girl nearly played Ellie. so she must look like Ellie#Ellie and Abby look nothing alike.#they’re so different. that’s the point.#ffs man#Abby Anderson#ellie williams#the last of us
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Daring - Chapter 2
This is part two of my Abby Mordern!Au, you can read Chapter 1 here.
Masterlist
Abby and the reader have dinner at Abby's place. There is music playing and referenced, so I'd recommend you listen to this playlist with all the songs playing in order as soon as the date night begins. About 10k words.
CW for alcohol consumption, mention of death/murder, mention of dubious consent (and possibly terrible grammar. It's 10pm, I just finished this, I don't have a proofreader atm)
Thyme and Tree Bark
“Don’t mess this up, airhead. Take care!”
“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot!”
You closed the door behind Mark as he vanished down the stairs and headed straight for your bed. Though you were less wobbly on your feet after devouring half of a perfectly cheesy pizza with just the right amount of jalapenos, it had thrown you straight into a food coma. Your angel of a brother had come over at noon with two chilled cans of coke and a large pizza from your favorite Italian place and not even ripped open the curtains as he usually did. Instead, he had thrown himself on the bed right next to you, handed you a slice, and demanded you start talking.
Of course, he already knew about Abby and your embarrassing shyness when it came to the buff blonde, so he was extremely proud of the progress you had made with your excruciating crush. You both agreed that Abby had definitely invited you over for a date this week - alone, without Manny there - and that it had to mean she was interested, too. He had laughed about the little bar stint when Abby had shut down your flirt with the hot waitress in an instant and was now 100% sure this was going to go great. As long as you kept it together and didn’t ruin everything. As you often did. This needed some tactical planning.
Mouths full of cheesy delight and laughing at each other’s stupid ideas, you and your brother had come up with a fairly foolproof plan. You would text Abby in 1-2 days, keeping it cool and asking when you should come over. Then, you would suggest making cocktails at home, already granting a fun activity and something to loosen the mood. You would keep it casual and bring over some nice liquor and maybe a bag of chips, perfect for watching a movie. You’d try to keep the conversation casual and try to speak mostly about Abby, asking lots of questions so you didn’t get tangled up in speaking about yourself. If you steered the conversation toward movies, you could watch something exciting and maybe even scary together so you could cuddle up on the couch together. And well, if you got that far, things would probably fall into place naturally. Foolproof. Y/N-proof.
You groaned as you reached over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You had a message from your mom asking if you wanted to come over for dinner next weekend and an email from your professor who wanted to submit your last essay to some kind of grant application. You’d have to answer her later, your head still felt like it was filled with cotton. Instead, you sent Leah a message.
-Hey, you still alive? There’s leftover pizza and coke over here.
Five seconds later, there was a delighted squeal at the other side of the wall and you heard the click of your roommate’s door before yours opened and Leah tiptoe-danced inside, beaming at you. She was wearing nothing but an extremely tight-fitting cropped wifebeater and a khaki thong, accentuating her long legs as she leaped right onto your bed and almost made you fly as her weight hit the mattress. You tried not to stare at her perfectly toned abs as she opened the gigantic carton and held up a slice of pizza over her head, letting the tip dangle in her mouth before biting down with a moan that made you snort awkwardly.
“Good morning, you animal.”
Leah just moaned again, making a grabbing motion with her hand and pointing toward the second can of coke on your nightstand. You laughed silently as you handed her the cold can, condensed water running down the sides and wetting your fingers. You wiped them on the blanket. The tall brunette swallowed hard and took a sip of coke.
“Good morning, womanizer.” She grinned widely. “I’m so proud of you, man. This is the first time I’ve seen you in action and I can safely say Abby was just as surprised as I was.”
You buried your face in your hands.
“Oh god, was I that obvious? Did I do anything inappropriate? I thought it went well, but now I’m not so sure.” You spread your fingers to peak at your roommate who was currently chewing on a ginormous bite, tomato juice running down her chin. No manners, that girl. She just shook her head and made a noise somewhere between protest and encouragement.
“No, you were fine,” she said with a full mouth, “very tipsy, but cute. I hope you remember Abby inviting you to her place.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
You ran your fingers through your hair, immediately getting stuck in a tangle of knots. God, you needed a shower.
“Yeah, I already went over it with Mark. We made a plan so I won’t embarrass myself.”
“Good. I hope it goes well, you two would be cute together. Hot, even. I mean, no one can deny the allure of those biceps. And her ass?! Godly.” She easily evaded the kick you aimed at her ribs, laughing and slapping your shin away.
“Come on, let’s not act like you’re not ogling her every chance you get. I am, too - the woman looks like a greek goddess!”
“That’s enough,” you giggled, aiming another playful kick in her direction but only lightly hitting her in the thigh. “I know what she looks like.”
“Right. And soon, you’ll hopefully see a lot more of her.” This time, Leah jumped off the bed before your toes could sink right into her side. You tried to suppress a grin as you two stared at each other for a moment before Leah sat back down cross-legged and began eating the last slice of pizza.
“I mean,” she said casually, “you have seen more of a woman before, right?”
You grabbed your coke and turned it in your hands before answering.
“Yeah, I have. It wasn’t… It wasn’t all that, though. Just one time and we were both so nervous it was just awkward.”
Now Leah looked at you with a mixture of shock and pity.
“Come on, Y/N. Only once? You’ve never seen stars because of a woman’s tongue? Never screamed into a pillow because of some skilled sapphic strap game? Never lost your mi-”
“Leaahhhh!” You groaned, feeling blood shoot into your cheeks. “No, okay? I… I made the other girl cum, but for me, it was just… it was too unfamiliar and I didn’t know her well enough to really let myself enjoy it.”
Suddenly a thought crossed your mind and you felt your eyes open wide.
“Wait. Has Abby…? Is she..?”
Leah paused mid-bite and thought for a second.
“Well, she does have experience with men, obviously. As far as women go… I honestly don’t know. She’s dated a few, but it never went longer than a couple of weeks. I don’t know how fast things go with her and she’s never gone into detail with me. I have to ask Nora about that.”
“Don’t you dare! She’ll know this is about me and tell Abby!”
“Oh come on, I’m interested, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you so you know what to prepare for, win-win!” She nudged your foot and gave you a mischievous half-smile.
“For god’s sake, do what you must.” You finished your coke and threw it perfectly into the bin beside your desk. Leah gave you an impressed nod. “And now I desperately need a shower. There is a literal nest on top of my head.”
“True,” Leah said and stood up, stretching her limbs as she walked to the door. “Thanks for the pizza. I’m gonna ask Jordan if he wants to come over, so don’t walk out naked if you don’t want a threesome.” She winked at you before closing the door, but a small part at the back of your brain knew that she wasn’t completely joking. You sighed and swung your legs off your bed. No point in lying around, it was past 3 pm anyway.
Grabbing your phone, a shirt, and some clean boxers, you headed for the bathroom. You took your time showering, detangling the mess on your head with lots of conditioner, humming along to Marika Hackman’s cover of I Follow Rivers as you stood under the hot stream of water and brushing your teeth for at least five minutes while waiting for a hair mask to do its magic. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with hot steam and you felt like a whole new person. You slipped into your fresh clothes and held the blow dryer to the mirror until your reflection was clear.
So. Here you were. Finally, you had spoken to the woman of your dreams and even flirted with her. She may have even been jealous of your short conversation with Ellie, the bartender. Tomorrow, you would text her, you would be brave and cool and not at all awkward. As you collected your clothes off the floor and took your phone, you suddenly realized something that would destroy your entire plan. You didn’t even have Abby’s phone number. Why hadn’t you asked her? Of course, you could ask Leah for it, but Abby would know because she knew she hadn’t given it to you. It would be a lot less cool and casual. Fuck.
You stepped into the hallway and ran straight into Jordan. Perfect. Good thing Leah had warned you.
“Oh, hi Y/N! You doing alright after all those tequila shots?” Jordan’s face was open and kind. You immediately relaxed. Just a guy, not a threat.
“Better than I thought I would, actually. What about you?”
“Well, I sent them back out the way they came as soon as I got home.” He grimaced and shrugged. “Just glad I’m still alive, to be honest.”
You had to laugh. “I’m glad, too. Leah would have been devastated.”
“I hope so.” He grinned back. The silence between you stretched a little bit too long.
“Anyways, I’m gonna see what she’s up to. See you later?”
“Yeah, sure!” You said, relieved that he didn’t make it awkward. You quickly slipped into your room and sank down on the bed, composing a text to Mark.
-Minor hiccup - I don’t have her number.
His reply came immediately.
-Shit. What now?
You let yourself fall back on the mattress and covered your face with your arm. Your phone vibrated again and you lifted it up, hoping for a brilliant idea.
-Hey, this is Abby. Are we still on for next week?
You almost dropped your phone on your face. For a minute, you just stared at the message. Then you rolled over onto your stomach and screamed into your pillow.
-Hi Abby. We absolutely are. Y/N.
You tried to suppress a fit of giggles as you texted your brother.
-Nvm, she just texted me.
-Omg what!! Play it cool, don’t answer yet. What did she say???
-Oops already answered. Still on for next week.
-Incredibly casual lol. Whatever, good for you!
-Shut up!
Another text by Abby came in and you actually started drumming your feet on the bed with excitement.
-Tuesday? I could cook for us
-Very impressive, I’ll bite. What time should I come over?
-Very clever. 6pm? Any allergies?
-Vegetarian, hope that’s okay. 6 is great, text me your address?
You watched the little text bubble pop up and vanish again for a good minute, getting more and more nervous for her answer.
- No problem. 2425 Constance.
There was nothing else to do but scream into your pillow again.
-
The next two days went excruciatingly slow. You spent the rest of your Sunday in bed, watching a terrible zombie movie and later ordering curry because you couldn’t be bothered with preparing any food. As it got late, you suddenly heard a knock on the wall. At first, you thought it was accidental, until the knocking started to continue in a steady rhythm. With a death glare that you hoped would reach through the concrete, you plugged your headphones into your laptop and continued watching your movie.
On Monday, you threw yourself into art history coursework and caught up on your studies, emailed your professor, and spent three hours on an essay about the depiction of blood in paintings of Judith beheading Holofernes. Lovely subject. Even though you got through a lot of your tasks for the day, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at your phone every 10 minutes to see if you had missed a message. Of course, nothing came up. Around 4 pm, your phone buzzed and you leapt for it only to find out it was Leah asking you to buy toilet paper later. At 6pm, you shut off your laptop and grabbed your backpack to go grocery shopping.
Standing in the liquor store you realized you hadn’t asked Abby about cocktails.
“Looking for something in particular?” the elderly lady behind the counter asked. It seemed to be her own shop and to have been hers for a while, judging by the elegant wooden shelves and the warm, nice feeling of the room instead of neon lights and rows of white metal.
“Uh, yeah, actually. I have a date tomorrow and I thought we could make cocktails, but I forgot to ask what she likes. So now I don’t know what to bring.” You gave her an apologetic half smile. She stood up from her seat behind the register, growing not even 2 inches standing compared to sitting and made her way over to you. Her eyes twinkled behind thick glasses that made her look a little bit like an owl.
“Well, dear. I don’t know if I would go straight into the hard liquor on a first date. On my last first date, we had a delicious red wine, a Merlot. Couldn’t that be something? Are you going to eat anything?”
“Oh yes, she said she’d cook for us, but I don’t know what exactly.”
The shop owner gently put a hand on your arm and guided you to a shelf of dark bottles.
“Well, Merlot goes well with any food, so I think it would be perfect. Cocktails come later, when you dress up and go out together or after a night of theater.” You felt a surge of warmth spread through your chest. Theater? Well, why not? For a second, you began to trail off, imagining Abby in a perfectly tailored suit, you at her arm just as dressed up, every head turning as you entered the room and ordered Gin Tonics at the bar during the break. The voice next to you pulled you back to the present.
“If you’re cooking at home, wine is the thing to bring, trust me.”
“I trust you,” you said with a smile as you took the bottle she handed you. The label was a creamy white, with beautiful golden letters. Hopefully this wouldn’t bankrupt you. “Thank you for your help.”
The shopkeeper sat back down in her chair with a sigh and typed into the cash register. 15.99$. That wasn’t so bad. You paid and gently put the bottle inside your backpack.
“You know, you should come by soon and let me know how it went. I think that Merlot will bring you good luck. My wife and I still have it every Sunday.” Your head snapped up and your eyes met that charming, smart twinkle again, flashing at you out of dark brown irises. For a moment, all of the things you wanted to say were stuck in your throat, then you just broke into a smile.
“That’s wonderful, ma’am. I hope I can have that, in the future.”
“Of course you will, dear.” She really sounded like she meant it. A small lump suddenly appeared in your throat.
“Thank you so much. I wish you all the best.”
“Go get her!”
You laughed and waved at her again as you exited the shop, taking the warmth and comfort of it with you and tucking it right beneath the bottom of your heart and the top of your stomach where you knew it would fuel you for a few days. You had already decided that you would come back and make it your mission to befriend that old lady. What a wonderful woman.
Only 23 hours to go. That night, it was almost impossible to fall asleep.
-
You got through the next day by once again banning any thought of the evening from your mind and diving head first into your assignments. You were going to lead a discussion on different planes of language or communications in women’s art and literature and reading up on the historical differences between male and female narratives, beginning with the ancient poet Sappho. It was an exciting topic, something you were extremely thankful for. Otherwise you might have been looking at your phone every 3 minutes instead of every 20. Of course, no message from Abby.
The bottle of wine was standing on your nightstand, reminding you of your plans with an exciting tingle in your stomach. At 4pm, you gave up on doing anything productive. You spent forever in the shower, stealing some of Leah’s expensive pink body scrub, shaving everywhere and regretting it immediately because you felt stupid for assuming anything, entertaining the but what if thoughts while you thoroughly lathered your entire body in Leah’s shampoo and shower gel and spending a good 10 minutes just standing under the hot water because you weren’t ready to leave that fantasy yet. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was an actual steam bath and you could hardly see the door through the thick waves of wonderfully scented fog. You took your time stealing some more of Leah’s skincare products, having come to the conclusion that if she noticed anything and scolded you for it, you might as well try out the whole arsenal.
When you finally opened your closet door, feeling luxurious and clean and fresh, it was 5.10pm. What the hell were you going to wear? You and Mark had agreed on casual, but what the hell did that even mean? You decided to ask him.
-Help!!! Freaking out over my outfit, need a definition for casual
-Jeans and T-Shirt, just your standard outfit. Imagine meeting me for sushi.
-I’m bringing red wine. It seems wrong to bring wine in jeans and a t-shirt..
-What happened to cocktails?? Trust me, keep it simple. You don’t wanna turn up in a dress and she opens the door in sweatpants.
-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in sweatpants. Ughh fuck I don’t have time for this. Jeans and t-shirt it is. Lesbian grandma recommended wine, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow x
-Go get her x
You quickly slipped into some black jeans that were just the right amount of tightly fitting around your ass and a white shirt with a tiny pomegranate embroidered on the front. Then you put on your jacket and quickly threw your wallet, phone and keys into a tote before grabbing the wine and putting it in as well. With a last look into the hallway mirror and a yelled goodbye to Leah, you rushed out of your apartment.
The evening air was not as cool as you had expected and the sun was just about to set. On your way to the train station, you typed out an on my way! message to Abby and quickly deleted it again. No sense in sending it now when you hadn’t spoken since Sunday and were about to see her. The train ride was annoying, the wagon stuffed with commuters and some guy trying to convince you the apocalypse was upon you all. Zombies, not the last judgement - something different at least.
During the walk from the station to Abby’s house, you were sure it wouldn’t take much more for you to actually start levitating. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your throat was so cramped up it was hard to breathe. When you pulled out your phone, your fingers were actually shaking. Jesus Christ, get a grip. 5.58 pm.
And there it was, 2425 Constance. Just a normal suburban white house, like any other in the street. It actually seemed a bit weird, Manny and Abby living here in the midst of what seemed to be a family neighborhood with real adults . Then again, they both weren’t in college, so you supposed they actually were real adults. When you walked up to the front door, you could hear faint music from inside - jazz? You wouldn’t have guessed she was the jazz type, but then again you knew almost nothing about her. Right. Ask questions, keep the conversation about her. Be cool.
You knocked.
Abby opened the door, a wave of warm air hitting you from inside. It smelled delightful. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips parted as she took in a deep breath. She had tied her hair back in a low bun, but a few strands had fallen out and framed her face. One was standing up in a funny angle.
“Hi, Abby,” you said, trying to keep your voice level and not stare at her body. Fuck, she had dressed up. And she looked hot.
“Hi!” A smile slowly grew wide on her face. When she realized that she was blocking the door, she quickly shook her head and stepped aside. “Come in! Can I take your jacket?”
Oh God, this was hopeless. You already knew you were hers. Thanking her, you took off your jacket and she hung it in a closet next to the entrance. When she turned around, you got a chance to admire her fully. She wore wide dress pants that perfectly accentuated all of her muscles, topped with a loose white shirt with wide sleeves, reminding you a little bit of a pirate. Her jewelry rounded off the pirate look and you had to bite back a grin. She raised her eyebrows at you.
“What?” Her cheeks were still slightly red, but you attributed it to standing in a hot kitchen for probably the last hour, judging by the variety of smells overlapping and mixing together, already making your mouth water.
“Uh, I brought wine,” you said and held out the bottle. Eloquent as always. Abby took it and whistled through her teeth as she inspected the label.
“That looks classic. The sauce I made has some wine in it as well, this is perfect. Thank you, what a great idea!”
You were overwhelmed with her generous praise and didn’t know where to look, so you settled on her hands. You had always sneaked looks at her hands, at the way she held a glass or drummed on a table or clasped them when she was intently listening to someone. They looked strong and rough from work, but there was also a delicacy in their movement and you were sure her touch could be as gentle as the brush of a hummingbird flying past. Realizing you were staring, you tore your gaze away.
“It smells delicious in here, I can’t wait to see what you cooked.” You followed her into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter and took a corkscrew from a drawer. A big red pot was standing on the gas stove over a tiny flame, the lid still hiding its contents. Your stomach suddenly growled loudly into the silence.
“Someone’s hungry.” Abby gave you a side glance and an amused smirk as she screwed the silver device into the cork. “Everything’s already set, we can get started right away.”
You covered your eyes with your hand for a second before laughing.
“Yeah, I kind of forgot to have lunch earlier and then I figured I’d just wait so I could really savour this.”
“Smart thinking. I made patates au vin , a vegetarian version of coq au vin which is chicken in wine. It’s basically potatoes and vegetables in a thick brown sauce, served with some good rustic bread.” You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the thought of getting to eat home cooked french cuisine made by Abby in a few minutes.
“Oh my God, say that again.” You could barely stop yourself from moaning. Abby laughed and opened the wine with a loud pop.
“Here, take this over to the dinner table. I’m right behind you.” You took the bottle and followed her nod into the dining room. The wooden table was beautifully set with big and small plates, glasses for water and wine, candles, two blue glass bottles of water and a bowl of salad topped with what looked like apples, pomegranate seeds and feta cheese. You carefully placed the bottle of wine next to the water bottles and stepped aside for Abby, who came out of the kitchen carrying the heavy pot and placed it on a cork coaster in the middle of the table.
“Wait, let me just…” she trailed off as she grabbed her phone from the sideboard and changed the music. A saxophone led a jazz band into the song before a beautiful female voice set in, soft as butter and filling the room like the smell of roses. The voice was familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. As Abby sat down, the music came to a crescendo before breaking off, the voice setting in again with a soft
is it a crime?
“Who sings this?” you asked as Abby opened the water bottle and filled your glasses.
“Oh, it’s Sade. She was my dad’s favorite.”
And I want you to want me too, the woman sang, and your eyes met over the table. You swallowed. Was? Not the right time.
“Sade? Oh, she sings Smooth Operator, right? I know that one, but I never checked out more of her music.”
Abby smiled at you and opened the lid of the pot.
“Yeah. This is the Promise album, my favorite. She is a force.”
A wave of steam erupted from the pot and you bent forward to look inside. Thick, roasted wedges of yellow potatoes lay in a bed of orange and purple carrots, mushrooms and tomatoes in a thick brown sauce, a stalk of thyme on top and a bay leaf poking out from the sauce. You weren’t sure if you were drooling, but you didn’t care.
“Abby, oh my God! This is fantastic.”
A spark had lit in her eyes when she heard you say her name. She elegantly stood up again, grabbed a serving spoon, and held out her hand for your plate. You watched her hands again as she plated an array of vegetables for you and used the spoon to draw a little sauce heart on the rim of the plate. Your ribs felt two sizes too small around your chest. This woman was actually going to be the death of you.
“Thanks,” you quietly said and waited as Abby helped herself to a plate. She sat down and gestured toward the small basket with thick slices of grey bread with a dark brown crust.
“Help yourself. Bon appétit.”
After a few moments of eating in comfortable silence before you showered the blonde in an array of compliments, this time not able to refrain from moaning when you bit into a tender, sweet purple carrot, the conversation began to flow. Abby complimented the wine, you talked about your studies, Abby told a few work stories in which both she and Nora were involved, you told her about your close relationship with your brother and she bittersweetly reminisced about her upbringing as an only child with a single dad. It had just been the two of them, moving frequently because of his changing jobs in different hospitals. He had been a neurosurgeon, and a brilliant one at that, but always humble and ready to help wherever he could. Abby sat up straighter when she talked about him, her chest actually swelling with pride when she told you about one time they had rescued an injured horse that had run away and been hit by a car in front of them.
“I think I was 16 back then. It’s one of my favorite memories of him. It actually wasn’t long before…” Her eyebrows moved into a frown and she bit her lip, pushing a small piece of onion around her plate. Fuck, maybe it would have been easier to talk about you, after all.
“We don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me when you’re ready.”
She looked up and you expected to see tears, but her eyes were full of love and her face smoothed out into a gentle smile.
“No, it’s okay. I’m still working on it, and part of my therapy is telling people who don’t know yet. You know, I don’t really have a lot of friends.” She suddenly laughed, easing the tension at the bottom of your lungs. “That sounds stupid, of course I do. I have Manny and Nora and Leah and Jordan and Owen, I guess. But the thing is, they all knew me before. I haven’t really made friends ever since my dad.. passed away. The idea of needing to open up to someone about all this so I can develop a real connection and friendship with them is just a lot to bear.”
“The mortifying ordeal of being known,” you mumbled, more to yourself, crumpling up your napkin in one hand.
“Sorry?”
“Oh, it’s this quote from a New York Times article that has been floating around the internet for a while. ‘If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known’.” You looked up at her and inhaled deeply. “It’s something I’m also terrified of. Although it seems kind of stupid sometimes, because compared to you for example, I don’t really have a good reason.”
Abby looks at you like she’s just discovered something extremely interesting. She takes a sip of her wine before answering, her silver rings blinking at you in the candlelight.
“It’s not at all stupid. I’ve always been very careful with who I open up to, even before my dad died. It’s horrifying, laying yourself bare for a person, putting yourself on a silver plate and handing it to them and saying there, now do with it what you wish. Maybe they’ll look at it and say no, thanks. Maybe they’ll call everyone and say hey, look at this mad woman with her twisted insides, isn’t that funny? Maybe they’ll see it and think, I can do this, and then after a few years they suddenly realize they actually can’t and you’re way too much and so they leave for someone with a more simple, prettier silver plate. Maybe they’ll even take a few pieces with them as they go.”
She didn’t sound bitter as she said it, and she didn’t look terribly sad either, more as if she was making an observation about something she was mildly interested in. You didn’t know what to say except for show me your silver plate, please show me your all, and I will devour it, savor it, keep it with me forever. But you stayed silent, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.
“I’m quite the handful, am I? Sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown all this” - she gestured toward herself - “at you during our first date.” Then her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Fuck, sorry, I just assumed… you probably don’t…”
Finally, movement came back into you. You jumped from your chair and were next to her in a few paces. She lifted a hand and you took it in yours.
“Of course this is a date,” you said gently and smiled at her. “Otherwise why would I have been this nervous for the past three days, thinking of nothing but you, constantly checking my phone to see if you texted me? And I brought red wine, come on.” That brought a smile to her face. She chuckled lightly.
“So I haven’t just ruined everything?” The hope in her eyes was mixed with real, honest fear.
“No, of course not. I’m glad you’re being open with me. You know, I planned not to reveal too much about myself tonight, fearing I would scare you away or say something stupid and make you suddenly lose interest.”
The current song ended and a soft, funky beat came on. There it was again, that twinkle in Abby’s eyes. Your hands were still clasped around hers and she made no move to pull back.
“Well, now I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me. Lay it on me. Over dessert, maybe?”
You raised your eyebrows.
“There’s dessert? You’re going to have to roll me out of here later.”
She laughed, warm and genuine, and the pride you had felt back in The Closet filled your chest again. You would do anything just to be the one to make her laugh every day for the rest of your life. She got up and you both started clearing the table together.
Never going to know
What fate is going to blow
Your way, just hope that it feels right
Could that Sade lady be any more on the nose? You risked a glance at Abby, who was smiling to herself. You followed her into the kitchen and she opened the fridge to produce a large glass dish, showing the several layers of biscuit and white cream, topped with dark cacao.
“Tiramisu? Seriously Abby, how much time did you spend in the kitchen today?”
She gave you a crooked grin before exiting the kitchen.
“Took the day off.”
You just sighed and went back into the dining room.
Such a fine time as this
“Here.” Abby handed you a small plate with a piece of her gourmet tiramisu. Your fingers brushed against each other and you both paused for just the blink of an eye.
What could equal the bliss
The thrill of the first kiss
You sat down and grabbed the small fork left next to your wine glass. On second thought, you took another sip of Merlot. It really was exquisite.
“Buon’ appetito,” you said and sliced off a perfect edge of tiramisu. The soft, coffee-drenched biscuit fell apart on your tongue, mixing with the heavy vanilla-flavored mascarpone. “Did you know where the name tiramisu comes from?”
Abby lifted her fork to her mouth and softly closed her lips around the piece of creamy dessert. You were entranced, watching her hand sink down to the table again, then her jaw moving and flexing as she chewed. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and you cleared your throat, taking another piece on your fork.
“ Tira mi su is Italian for ‘pull me down’. It’s the last thing you eat after dinner and the thing that makes you tired, pulls you right into the food coma. In restaurants, it rounds off the meal and guests will probably leave in the following hour because they feel they’re ready to go home.”
Never as good as the first time
Natural as the way we came to be
“Oh,” Abby said, her voice quiet. She looked up at you through dark lashes. “And are you going home after this?”
“No.” You said it without thinking, only knowing what was true in your heart. “I don’t want to.”
“I’m glad.” Taking a deep breath, Abby straightened up, then reached a hand across the table, her palm facing up. You stared at it for a fraction of a second before placing your hand in hers, feeling something fall into place inside you. The glances you exchanged said so much more than you could possibly dare to say out loud right now.
You used your free hand to stab the last piece of tiramisu. This time it was Abby who was watching you with hungry eyes as the fork vanished between your lips and emerged clean.
“This tiramisu could be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life,” you said after swallowing and Abby’s fingers twitched ever so slightly around your hand.
“Thank you. I’m really into French and Italian cuisine, as you may have noticed.”
You leaned back in your chair, careful not to pull back your hand.
“I couldn’t do it, honestly. Spending so much time in the kitchen. Especially not with a job like yours, on your feet all day. I’d probably survive off of pasta and takeout.”
Abby smiled and began slowly drawing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb. You were already hyper-aware of how your blood rushed through every vein of your body, a side-effect of the red wine, but now it came to a roar in your ears.
“I guess I need some kind of hobby besides lifting weights. It calms me down. And it’s not just about the end result, about getting to eat something, but also about picking the right ingredients, taking my time cutting them up, trying new recipes with new flavors, and learning more about food and culture, and honestly about myself. It’s like meditating.”
“That sounds…” you were at a loss for words, “unbelievable? I’ve never heard someone talk about cooking like that. And I’ve never felt that way about it, too. I guess I’d like to, though. It sounds nice.”
Abby brushed her thumb over your knuckles.
“Well, I could show you.” You tilted your head slightly. “I mean, we could cook together. Next time. If you want to?”
Sade’s voice, smooth as polished wood and dripping with honey cut into the moment.
How could I have doubted
Honey, it's with me that you belong
“Yeah, I’d love to. What do you have in mind?”
“Do you like lasagna? We could make a vegetable lasagna and substitute the meat for soy. I could show you how to make a béchamel.”
You laughed and squeezed her hand.
“I love lasagna, although I have no idea what a beshmel is.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Abby’s face was glowing with happiness.
As the last two songs of the album played, you helped Abby clean up the table. You got into an argument about doing the dishes - Abby said she’d do it later but you insisted you would do them now or at least help because so far you had not lifted a finger.
“Come on, Abby, please let me help?” You tried your best doe eyes at her. She grinned and playfully slapped your upper arm.
“Okay. But I’ll put on different music.”
She vanished to the dining room while you began filling the sink with water. A high note filled the room before a man spoke.
You broke my heart / 'Cause I couldn't dance
You didn't even want me around
And now I'm back / To let you know
I can really shake 'em down
Abby stepped into your field of vision. The music set in, a delightful 60’s rock and roll melody, and Abby began dancing toward you with tiny steps and shaking shoulders. She was lip synching to the coarse voice of the singer and reaching out her hands for you. Snapping out of your frozen position, you shook your head, grabbed her hands, and were immediately twirled through the kitchen. A squeak escaped you as Abby pulled you back toward her and with another pirouette, you almost slammed into her chest. You both laughed out loud, continuing to dance through the kitchen with big, overexaggerated moves, flailing your arms and shuffling your feet across the tile.
I can do the twist
Now, tell me baby
Do you like it like this?
You quickly began singing along to the simple lyrics and both of you were giggling at each other’s dance moves. The next song was Stand By Me and you both settled down, beginning to clean the pots and dishes. You did the washing while Abby dried off the pieces you gave her and put them back into the right cupboards. Both of you were swaying and humming along to the music.
During the second chorus, both of you began belting along, filling the kitchen with the wonderfully familiar sound of slightly drunk women singing together. As the song ended, you both comically froze and waited for the next song to set in. When it was La Bamba by Ritchie Valens, you both continued singing along and showing off some probably terrible salsa moves. You were done in no time and Abby took your hand, pulling you into the dining room and sliding across the wooden floors with you. Your stomach hurt from laughing and you couldn’t stop smiling.
Next came the bittersweet Be My Baby by the Ronettes, a song you remembered from your childhood, vague memories of your parents slow dancing together after another terrible fight. You swallowed down the hint of bitterness creeping up from your stomach. Instead, you looked up at Abby, almost a full head taller than you, and dared yourself to step forward. You placed your right hand in Abby’s and your left on her tricep, coming unbearably and exhilaratingly close. Abby put her hand on your back, right below your shoulder blade, warming you through the fabric of your shirt. Your faces were incredibly close, her breath warm on your nose, and you could have counted every single freckle on her beautiful face. There was a slim ring of gold around her pupil, complimenting the green of her iris. She was breathtaking.
You couldn’t take this any longer. Should you kiss her? Everything inside you wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close the last inch of distance. It felt like wanting to do a handstand but pulling back at the last second every time because of a deep fear of failing and hurting yourself. It was terribly frustrating.
Instead, you leaned your head against the round muscle of Abby’s shoulder, turning your face toward her chest and pressing your temple to her collarbone. You could smell the herbs she had used to cook earlier in the fabric of her shirt, but her skin smelled like pine and something else, earthy and dark, like tree bark or wool. Abby rested her chin against your forehead and her low hum of contentment vibrated against your cheek.
A light waltz melody began, Unchained Melody, a song you knew from some commercial and had listened to for a few weeks straight after.
I need your love
God speed your love to me
You smiled to yourself and could sense Abby was doing the same. You kept slowly turning, dancing through the candle-lit room and swaying side to side. The band set in louder and you lifted your head again. Abby’s eyes were fixed to yours, but you couldn’t stop yours from wandering lower, finding those perfectly pink lips, hanging open ever so slightly. Your hand wandered upward, along her shoulder, and to the back of her neck. As the last verse of the song began, you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against her. Abby inhaled sharply, her fingers spreading on your back and pressing against your skin. You gently pressed your lips to hers again and this time, she kissed you back. You dug your fingertips into the back of her neck, desperately wanting to come closer, to pull her down to you, hell, you would climb her like a tree if you had to.
Feeling courageous, you stuck your tongue out and ran the tip upward over her lips. Abby instantly reacted, opening her mouth for you and greeting your tongue with hers. She tasted like wine and cacao, and faintly like thyme. Releasing your hand, she wrapped her arms around your waist. You reached up and buried your hand in her hair. She gasped into your mouth. You tucked that sound away for later, swearing to yourself you would make her do it again as often as you could.
A few seconds of silence between songs were disrupted by your wonderfully frivolous wet kissing sounds and a small whine that escaped you when Abby’s hand wandered lower to cup your ass. The first guitar chords of Nights In White Satin vibrated through the air and Abby grabbed you tightly before lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. She carried you over to the dining table and set you down.
The dramatic crescendo in the song you loved so much began.
And I love you
Yes I love you
Oh, how I love you
The singer’s voice filled every corner of the room, his declaration hovering above you, the high voices of the background singers ringing in your ears and Abby’s hands everywhere, her body leaning over you, her hips pressed between your legs. You flexed your legs to pull her in closer, almost falling apart when Abby let out a low moan and rocked her hips forward against you. Then she suddenly slowed down and broke the kiss.
“Wait, let’s talk for a second.”
You kept your legs clamped around her, but relaxed back a little, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead and giving her an encouraging nod to go ahead.
“I haven’t… I’m not that experienced with - with women. And generally. And I don’t want to rush things and do something wrong and lose you. I don’t really know how this works and I want to do it right.”
Her hands on your waist tightened slightly. You gave her a shy smile.
“Me neither. I’m scared, too.” You surprised yourself with your openness. “How about we take this slow, then? Talk about everything openly? And just go one step at a time?”
Abby nodded and pulled you closer again.
Holding Back The Years began playing.
“One kiss at a time.” She gave you a gentle peck on the lips.
“Oh, really? I would have never picked you as the sappy type,” you laughed against her lips.
“You wouldn’t?” She acted shocked. “Let me remind you of how I took the day off to cook a gourmet french dish for you.”
“True.” You shrugged and pulled her in for another kiss. “It’s probably the muscles. With those guns, you can do anything and still be taken seriously.”
Abby snorted and you realized that had been the wine talking. For a second, you were mortified, then she scooped you up again, holding your body with one arm as she ran her free hand through your hair.
“Oh, those? You know, they’re specifically for carrying you around all day. Anything for my - princess.” You had very well noticed the little pause there, but you decided not to say anything yet. Instead, you lifted your chin and eyebrows, imitating what you thought a royal would look like.
“Well, what does that make you? You’re obviously not a prince. My lady knight?”
Abby nodded solemnly.
“Sworn to protect and defend you. And to carry you wherever.”
“Well, do you have a sofa you could carry me to?” You tightened your hold on her shoulders and leaned in closer again.
“Of course, my lady.”
Abby carried you through a doorway at the back of the dining room into a cozy living room, equipped with a large sofa and a gigantic flatscreen tv, two vintage armchairs, a wooden bookshelf with at least 100 books, and a desk facing the window, medical books spread across the surface. The blonde sat down on the sofa and you knelt left and right of her hips, straddling her as you gave her another soft kiss.
“You know,” you began, “I’ve been crushing on you for months now. I thought you had absolutely no interest in me. I didn’t even know you liked women.”
Abby’s eyes widened at your confession.
“Shit, I had no idea. You weren’t exactly forward, you know. The first time we met, you already had this pull on me. But you were so shy and I didn’t want to jump you or annoy you, so I tried to keep my distance and wait if you would come around.”
“You have Leah to thank for that. Me coming around. I kind of forgot to come out to her until karaoke night and she told me you were dating women as well. She knows I’ve been a hopeless case when it comes to you, but she wanted me to figure this out on my own.”
Abby thought about this for a second.
“Yeah, Leah probably only told you because she knew I liked you, too. I haven’t been that open about dating women in the past, just because talking about dating in general was weird with Owen and Mel around and I also just don’t like everyone knowing my personal business.”
“I get that.” You nodded. “As I said, I hadn’t even been out to Leah. Mostly because I haven’t dated anyone in forever and the last time was a disaster not worth talking about.” You winced at the memory.
“You wanna tell me anyway?”
You thought about it for a second, then you climbed off Abby’s lap and laid down on the sofa, resting your head on her thigh. Her fingers immediately began brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.
“Well, I met this girl during a freshman party at a sorority house the weekend before my first semester in college,” you began. You had felt weirdly out of place, but were determined to speak to at least one person. A few hours and an almost-lethal amount of tequila later, the girl you had talked to all night had dragged you into one of the bedrooms. You both had no previous experience, were extremely drunk and it was already 5am. You had fun making out and were both eager to try more, but it had been more out of curiosity than desire for each other and so the experience had not ended in the expected bliss of lesbian sex. Rather, she had come pretty quickly and afterward she'd begun crying and told you she had a boyfriend, and you had gotten dressed and fled the house. After that, dating in college was not really something you thought about much.
Abby listened to your story with interest and sympathy, laughing at a few parts and stroking your hair as you told her about the end of that fateful night. She felt deeply sorry for your experience of strangeness and betrayal, immediately promising to you that she would always tell you what was going on inside her head and what she wanted.
“Like you just did,” you smiled at her. “That was brave. It’s what I should have done that night.”
“I mean, I had a few weird moments, too, before I learned to speak my mind.” Abby’s gaze unfocused and she frowned as she clearly recalled some not very pleasant memories.
“Wanna tell me, too?” you asked, keeping your voice light. She nodded, looking down at you again.
“I mean, there's Owen, obviously. That didn’t work out well and now he is with Mel, leaving me wondering if he was interested in her while we were still together. After we broke up, Nora and I went on a little bender.” Your heart jumped into your throat. Did Abby and Nora...? A wave of jealousy rose from the bottom of your stomach, but you forced yourself to keep your calm, smiling at Abby as she continued.
“We spent every weekend at a different bar, and one of them was actually at The Closet. Nora was making out with a woman in actual overalls” - she snorted - “and I just hung out at the bar, drinking Long Islands and not brave enough to make eye contact with anyone. And then the bartender started talking to me.”
Suddenly realization dawned on you. You sat up and stared at Abby.
“Wait, Ellie? The short-haired one?”
Abby grimaced.
“Yeah. We talked for a while and I came back the next week with Leah and Jordan. They didn’t even notice I was spending a lot of time at the bar. Ellie and I met for coffee a few days later and I mentioned my dad and she got really quiet and strange. Turns out, she’s related to the guy that murdered my dad, so...”
You were pretty sure your heart stopped for a moment, all the air in your chest building up pressure as you tried to figure out how to breathe out. Abby noticed and gently guided you to lay back down, continuing to weave her fingers into your hair.
“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll tell you the whole story another time. So yeah, Ellie and I. It was horrible, but we still stayed and talked for a while. She couldn’t tell me a lot about what happened, but she had no idea that I even existed and she was about to have a panic attack over it all. I helped her calm down and then she felt terrible for reacting so badly when it should be me panicking and I just told her that there’s nothing any of us can do now and we should probably leave it at that.” She sighed. “I hadn’t been to The Closet until a few days ago. I only came because I knew you’d be there.”
“Fuck, that’s terrible,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I could have gone back there. I’m still glad you did, though.”
“Me too,” Abby said, her voice gentle and honest. She leaned down to kiss you, deeply and passionately.
You stayed on the sofa for the next few hours, talking about school crushes and gay awakenings, about women constantly hitting on Abby and her being confused for a long time. She told you more about her relationship with Mel and you started to actually resent that woman. Who did she think she was? You told Abby about living with Leah and about your current research projects and she listened intently, asking a lot of questions about the art you were analyzing. You began diving into queer art and Sappho and your theory on the different languages of different social groups. Abby actually gave you some great new ideas and some good questions you couldn’t yet answer and you were actually beginning to look forward to writing tomorrow.
As the clock moved past midnight, it became clear you would have to leave at some point soon. Abby had to get up at 7 in the morning for a 10-hour shift, and you had stifled one too many yawns. You were cuddled up on the couch, kisses interchanging with long, deep conversations and more kisses.
“I can accompany you to the station,” Abby suggested as you looked up the departure times on your phone.
“You don’t have to. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll find the way.” You kissed her for her generosity, but she pulled back.
“Honestly. I don’t want you walking alone. I’ll go with you.” A sheepish smile appeared on her face and she did a tiny bow. “My lady.”
You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to the entrance hall. Abby gently helped you into your coat and put on a black bomber jacket, a strange but hot combination with her fancy pants. She opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cold night together.
You held hands on the way to the station, stopping at every corner to make out, laughing together, and making plans for your lasagna night. You would come over on Thursday, promising to yourself you would finish all your coursework until then. Manny would come back on Friday, so you’d have the house to yourself again.
You arrived at the station way too soon, but your train was announced to arrive in two minutes. Heavy-hearted, you flung your arms around the tall blonde and she wrapped hers around your waist, lifting you up for another deep kiss.
“I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered against your lips.
“I’ll even dress up next time,” you mumbled and she grinned at you.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt. I’m excited.” Well, now you had to go shopping. Leah would be delighted to go with you.
You pressed a last kiss to Abby’s lips before unwrapping yourself from her arms as the train rolled into the station. As you stepped away, she caught your hand and pulled you back for another one, cheekily running her tongue over your bottom lip. You sighed and kissed her hand, wrapped firmly around yours, before stepping back and boarding the train. You waved at her through the window as you departed and watched her stand on the platform until she was out of sight.
Letting yourself fall into one of the seats, you pulled out your phone and texted your brother.
-We kissed!!!! Call me when you can
Then you texted Leah about shopping tomorrow, just able to send the text before your phone vibrated with a new message.
-You looked beautiful tonight. I’m the luckiest person in the world.
You tried to keep your squeal as quiet as possible. A woman a few seats ahead of you briefly looked up from her phone.
-Can’t believe I have a personal knight who will carry me wherever I want to go
The reply came in seconds.
-Anywhere and anything you want. Text me when you’re home!
-Can I text you before I’m home? I miss you already :(
You had to wait a few minutes before your phone vibrated again. This time, Abby was calling.
“Sorry, I was cleaning up and getting ready for bed.” She sounded a bit breathless.
“No worries,” you said. “What are you wearing for bed?”
Abby let out a surprised laugh.
“Really, now?”
“I’m serious. I want to imagine being with you.”
“Well, I’m wearing a gigantic black t-shirt with a ton of holes and boxers.”
You closed your eyes, envisioning Abby’s thighs straining against the hem of her shorts and the soft cotton of her shirt that you could bury your face in. She would smell like nature and like home somewhere far away.
“I wish I was there.” You noticed you were sounding desperate. Fucking hell, were you about to turn into a 13-year-old? You could hear the smile in Abby’s voice when she spoke.
“I wish you were here with me, too.” She paused for a moment. Then, “Do you want to sleep over on Thursday?”
“Uhm -” you had to think for a second, remembering you only had dinner plans for Friday with your mom. Before you could answer, Abby cut in again
“Fuck, am I rushing you? I didn’t mean - I just thought it would be nice, falling asleep together. But I totally get if that’s -”
“Abby! Of course I want to stay over!” You clenched your free hand into a fist, punching your thigh a few times in order to divert the explosion of energy inside your chest.
“Oh, thank god,” Abby’s shaky laugh was heart-wrenching. “I thought I messed up already.”
You stood up to exit at your station.
“No, not at all. I’d love to fall asleep with you.”
The way to your apartment was over faster than you wanted it to be.
“I’m home now. I think I should hang up, Leah is probably sleeping.”
“Yeah, don’t wake the monster.” Abby chuckled.
“Good night, Abby. Tonight was incredible.”
“Good night, Y/N. You’re incredible. Sleep tight.”
--
Author's note: Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here
#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby tlou2#the last of us 2#tlou abby#abigail anderson#abby fic#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson fanfiction#ellie#ellie tlou#leah tlou#jordan tlou#owen moore#owen x mel#mel tlou#owen tlou#abby x reader#abby anderson x reader
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