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Ditto Bitch, Different Her

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Fatin POV

 

She gazed longingly, watching the rise and fall of the girl's chest, the burnt skin of her cheeks, the intensity of her eyes that always left her with a feeling maybe Leah felt something more too. Something else.

“Stop staring at me like that,” Leah said, eyes homing in on Fatin who was currently perusing her features with a faraway expression.

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m going dark.” 

She held her breath and pondered. No, that was most definitely not why she was currently stuck to Leah with the force of that one girl who gorilla glued her entire head. “I don’t think we can really call it that anymore considering you were right the entire time. Like who would have called that Gretchen was secretly an undercover, fucked up scientist with an uber cunty agenda. Maybe going realistic?” 

Leah chuckled under her breath, moving from her seat to hop into the bed. Fatin sighed, then pulled Rilke's form in tighter than was required. Almost afraid to loosen her grip from fear she would leave, or die, or some total gut punch she simply could not survive. Fatin could survive a lack of orgasms, shark attacks, and starvation but the mere thought of something happening to the girl in her arms made her stomach do a complete 180. 

“We need to think about moving or searching for resources. That bitch left us with nothing but a room filled with shredded paper.” Leah’s eyes darkened, fidgeting slightly in Fatin’s arms at the thought, a hand moving up to pick at her brow before another hand swatted it away.

“You realise that’s like a hamster's wet dream,” Fatin quipped.

“Shut up.” Leah rolled in her arms until they were facing each other before burying her nose into her neck as had become routine (one Fatin never wanted to break.) “I’m serious. We need resources. Yes, I’m hoping the government is on its way, but we can’t be sure of anything and even if they were, there is no saying how long that would take. We need food. Firewood and basic shit. Who knows how long the backup generator will keep for? In case it goes we need,” 

“Breathe,” Fatin interrupted. Her hand moved up to rub gentle circles on Leah’s back, stomach contorting at the warmth that filled her when the girl simply nuzzled into her neck in response. “We haven’t even slept yet. Gretchen fled hours ago, we’ve done an inventory and surveyed the building and all the other shit we can consider tomorrow. For now, we both need to sleep.” 

“It’s still light out.” It was, and both were far from tired. It also didn't help that whatever prick was controlling the sound system had been playing grungy rock at full volume for hours and one speaker was just down the hall from them.

“Then let's talk about random -non mega bitch- topics until we can sleep.” They had wasted more than enough breath on Gretchen Klein.

“You know the guys seemed to be suspicious of,” 

“Leah,” Fatin chided, choosing to go with a distraction. “So, any of them look cute?” She was really probing, Fatin knew it and still went ahead with the dumb question that had been on the forefront of her mind since seeing them. 

Rilke pulled her head out from her neck, staring at her incredulously. “We’ve known them not even a day and you’re sizing up which one to bed?” She said it with a bite enough bite that she picked up on the edge of it.

“No,” Fatin stuttered. “I mean,” Another pause. “Like,” God she should really think this through next time. “The brunette one you knew seemed cute. Do you maybe… Have history there?” 

It had been a thought she couldn’t stop replaying since seeing them together. After Leah had screamed on the rooftop, he had been the one to console her and calm her down. He had been the one with his hands on Leah’s shoulders telling her they ‘should have planned for that,’ but it didn’t matter. Fatin should have been the one scheming with her not this random dude with annoyingly cute eyes. She had spent who knows how many days with this guy and was already talking to him before Fatin about theories. Theories that were meant for Fatin. That was always their thing, whether she had believed them or not.

“Raf?” 

“What?” 

“His name. It’s Raf.” Leah moved so that her nose was inches away from Fatin’s, her furrowed brow thinned out by how much she had been picking at it as of late with her friend not there to stop her. “We just had some alone time that we conspired in is all.”

Alone time. “Oh, I didn’t realise you knew each other so well. Is that like… A thing?” 

“What do you mean a thing?” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“He’s not my type.” Leah’s voice broke as her hand came up and toyed with the sunburnt skin on Fatin’s arm anxiously. 

“So, what’s your type because I hate to break it to you but there’s only a handful of guys out there to choose from.” 

“And girls,” Leah added matter-of-factly. 

Fatin could feel her heart drop, plummeting quite suddenly out of her body. “What?” 

“I’m bi. Though all of you that are available are straight -not that Shoni are my type- and I’m pretty sure some of the guys are queer but regardless I didn’t wake up this morning thinking ‘wow this hellscape would make for an epic episode of Love Island’.” 

“I see what you did there.” 

“Fatin. I mean it, I don’t give a shit about them. I need a break from guys right now, Jeff just… He left a shitty impression that I probably need to take a year out of to get past.”


Fatin nodded, swallowing the knot in her throat. “I’m not by the way.” Her fingers shook slightly from their death grip on Leah’s hip as she spoke, body tensing as the words left her. 

“Not what?” 

“Straight.” 

Leah’s eyes widened just enough for her to note it- before she felt her recoiling back from her arms slightly. 

“At least I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure, obvi. Still need to like, apply the theory and all.” 

“Apply the theory?” 

“Yeah.” 

Something seemed to light up across Leah’s features then, it was the same look she got whenever she spiralled on an island theory. A realisation of sorts as if her brain was suddenly providing a rapid-fire explanation of all the strange looks and ‘I missed you’s’. The constant need for touch, the ever-present affection and caution of her every action to the point that Leah simply let out an ‘oh.’ So quietly it was almost missed. 

It was not. 

“Leah I,” The fear lacing Fatin’s voice was just as clear.

“No,” Leah fed a hand into Fatin’s hair, initially sweeping away a few strands that had fallen into her eyes before moving to grip the back of her head with a soft palm. “You know it really fucking sucked that you didn’t believe me this whole time.” 

Fatin's gut clenched. She should have. The evidence was quite literally right in front of them. Between everything they needed mystically washing up, the weird sightings of ‘men’, the facts that just kept piling up one after another that they all ruled out as Leah being mad. Crazy. A bitch. God, Fatin had assigned so many names and traits to her and the whole time, she had been right.

About every single fucking thing. 

“Now you’re the one going dark on me.” Leah’s fingers trailed down her face before a thumb swiped away a tear she hadn’t even realised was rolling down her cheek. 

Jadmani’s rarely cried, however when it came to Leah Rilke? She loved her, it couldn't be helped. However, that didn’t make the tears feel any more natural. Instead, they felt invasive, like her body had betrayed her with this stupid ass saltwater production. 

“Hey, look at me,” Leah spoke, hand caressing her cheek. “I don’t blame you. I sounded crazy and you all saw none of it.” 

“But we didn’t even think to check.” And that was the real problem, wasn’t it? They were all just a little too focussed on small things to note the humungous red flags waving before them. “The pit... The dirt was different there. If I had taken one fucking moment to actually support your theories, we would have known.” 

“Fatin that’s not my point. My point is you saw this angsty bitch talking shit about crazy theories with no hard evidence and you still supported me. You still held me while I slept, you still watched me like a hawk when I went dark, made me eat, bathe."

"I lost it at you. I threw you against a cliff, Leah."

"No, that was only when I went off at Rachel. You were pissed at what I did to her, not the theories. You cared, so damn much and I get it now… I think…” 

And with that Leah pulled Fatin’s head in towards her own – tentatively at first- lips barely brushing against hers as Fatin inhaled a sharp breath before shaking slightly against her. 

“Sorry,” Leah rambled. “I just, that was um, so I thought, but now I,” 

“Oh my god please shut up.” Fatin groaned, pulling Leah back towards her by the material of her shirt. This time it lacked any fear, instead, confident lips met in a hard pull as something quickly tugged lower in Fatin’s stomach; the weight of it previously ignored for so long. Fatin's brain short-circuited as Leah sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, a moan threatening to leave her when the hunger of Leah's lips on hers only grew. Her body felt strange, euphoric almost. At peace. It was the same stupid feeling she’d had every day since she wiped her blood on Leah, the feeling that really hit her full force when she was rambling about someone snorting seasoning after seeing a piñata. 

That was the moment it had fully hit Fatin, whilst she felt all these things for weeks, that moment sunk in exactly what those feelings were. The complete joy she saw on Leah’s face as she laughed with Rachel, made her want to wrap her in an embrace and kiss her for hours on end. The moment she realised she was right had both made her want to vomit but also made her prouder than ever. Leah Rilke was a fucking genius. She was this enigmatic wildcard with such intelligence, such understanding that none of the girls had credited her for, and still, she never stopped. 

She was the girl who had made an awful joke toward Fatin when she asked to borrow a tampon back at school, Leah had replied with something along the lines of ‘you can't borrow one, but you can keep it’ a fact Fatin had honestly entirely forgotten about until the past two days when it had randomly popped into her memory. She was the girl known for carrying a fucking Lana Del Rey tote bag around for a solid two years -how Fatin hadn’t realised she was queer was beyond her- the girl who no one truly knew anything about. 

But Fatin did. 

Fatin knew how Leah tried to press her feet between her legs as they slept because they always seemed to run at a constant temperature of ice fucking cold. She knew that she liked some poetry not for the words or rhythm but for the writers’ accomplishments that were told through them. The perseverance or some shit. She knew that Leah had lied to her parents and partied on a whopping two occasions, one of which was a party that Fatin had attended, paying no mind whatsoever to the girl now in her arms. 

And she knew that Leah tasted sweet today, like some kind of berry juice. 

So, she pulled harder and ran a tongue along the lip of the girl whose hand was now tugging slightly at her hair, sighing contentedly against her. Fully prepared to drown her senses in everything entirely Leah.

Fatin let her fingers dip just under her shirt until the tips of them brushed along Leah’s stomach, searching the soft skin there for marks left by the other island. Reminders. She let her other hand slide around her back, trying evermore to get just that bit closer as she moved her lips to Leah’s neck, her hips absentmindedly rolling against a thigh that had crept between her knees (Fatin couldn’t be blamed for this, she could barely remember what an orgasm was at this point.) 

But then she remembered this was Leah, Leah who she didn’t want to get the wrong idea about what this meant. Leah who was probably still wary from Jeff. The same girl who knew far too much about her eclectic dating history. She was fully aware of what was spoken about her in the hallways at school and knew of the tales both true and utterly false whispered between classes. 

And many were in fact true. 

But none of those facts were Leah. 

So, Fatin pulled away, lips briefly touching once more out of a need of comfort, before resting her forehead against Leah's. “You mean so fucking much to me.” 

Her main thought went unsaid. 

I love you. 


But that was enough for Leah to get somewhat of what she meant. You mean more to me than anyone ever had or could. 

“Same,” Leah’s voice croaked slightly, raspy from the lack of sleep, her breath panting hard against her skin.

“Sleep.” 

“You too.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

Leah simply rolled Fatin until her back was against Leah’s front and cradled an arm around her. “Me either.” 

A single kiss was pressed to the shell of her ear, though it lingered there as if Leah was considering saying something else. 

She never did.