Chapter Text
chapter 1 recommendation: my limb by hayley williams
At the first sight of red hair, Waverly had been hers.
She remembered it like it was yesterday, crossing the quad and glancing up into one of the tall buildings filled with professor offices. It was easy to spot her advisor’s, Dr. B, since one of the two large galley windows which bracketed the small office was donned with a large rainbow flag. The University of Purgatory was an extremely accepting place - it was a college, after all - and the surrounding town, while small, was mostly welcoming as well. The downtown, if you could call it that, consisted of a number of quirky shops, many of which also displayed rainbow flags. Once you stepped outside the blocks of Purgatory’s Main Street and into the rural countryside, however, all bets were off. It was for that reason that Waverly tended to stay within the campus for the most part.
Dr. B’s office, however, was always a safe space for students, and oftentimes Waverly would see the young professor standing at the windows sipping her coffee and waving to the students below who she recognized before classes. That’s where she had expected to see her this morning as well, but in her place all Waverly saw was a flash of red hair, blazing and burning in between the jamb liners, and it took her breath away.
But she was already late for class, so she had looked away and hustled on.
Dr. B’s real name was Rosita Bustillos, and while she certainly seemed to be a hard ass, the truth was that she had to appear so at first. Most professors let their students call them by their first names, but since day one she had made it obvious that that would not be tolerated in her classrooms. Being a thirty-something woman of color teaching at a university overwhelmingly dominated by male professors, she had no choice but to put up a brash exterior. And while Waverly knew that by no means was she truly a pushover, Dr. B had her soft spots, especially for certain students who fell into her graces.
Thankfully I’m one of them, Waverly thought to herself as she slouched into one of the two old white couches in her office between Jeremy and Rachel. On the other couch, Chrissy was recounting some story to Dr. B, who listened in intently from her rolling desk chair, flashing a welcoming smiling to Waverly as she plopped her backpack at her feet.
“Long day?” Jeremy asked, reaching into one of Dr. B’s filing cabinet drawers, the one which secretly held chocolates for her favorite students to snack on between classes. He pulled out two candies, passing one to Waverly.
“Something like that,” she responded, popping the treat into her mouth. “Xavier assigned a shit ton of homework again, as if I don’t have a million other things going on.”
Before she had a chance to say anything, Waverly gave Rachel a look. “Yes, I know, I should have listened to you.”
That had the other girl laughing. “I have my moments of wisdom.”
“Oh, by the way,” Dr. B’s voice cut through their conversation, her eyes skipping back and forth over the four pupils, “if you see my new graduate research assistant around, say hi and introduce yourselves, she’s a little nervous about coming to a new place and all.”
“I forgot she was here already,” Chrissy said, motioning for Jeremy to pass her a chocolate. Waverly couldn’t blame her; she had also all but forgotten that there was someone coming today to begin their research fellowship with Dr. B. “What’s her name again?”
“Nicole,” a new voice chimed in from the doorway, drawing five sets of eyes to its presence. Waverly sucked in a breath. The flames had surrounded her once more.
Well, things had been so simple back then, hadn’t they?
Like the voice of a new research assistant coming from the threshold, beckoning curious glances and burning the patience Waverly had thought was indomitable. Dr. B had introduced the students to the assistant with haste, noting the time as an indication she had to rush out and pick up her kids from school. She tossed her extra set of keys to Rachel, a wordless trust existing between the four students and their professor - lock the door when you leave and slide the key under the door - and left.
So like that, Waverly found herself in Dr. B’s office with some of her closest friends, and the new research assistant, bright and ablaze. When their eyes met, she felt the warmth being sucked out of her.
They hadn’t stayed for long, instead electing to head to one of the dive bars down the street. “An apt welcome to UPurg,” Jeremy had said, clinking their shot glasses together. “To Nicole, the next great researcher Dr. B will soon produce.”
Nicole ducked her head, the wisps of fire falling in front of her eyes. She made no move to push them aside, and Waverly felt her fingertips tingle at the thought of tucking the locks behind her ear. She wanted to feel them burn. “And to you all, for welcoming a big city girl to my new normal.”
Waverly only had that one shot that night, but as she watched Jeremy coax Nicole out to the dance floor she had never felt more drunk in her entire life.
Then, Nicole began to pop up more and more often. The group of four that had been spending time in Dr. B’s office after classes for two years now expanded as Nicole began to join them more frequently. Over a few weeks she opened up more and more, speaking quietly but passionately about her research interests. She spoke with her hands, motioning through the air with fervor. Waverly watched with awe, the need to be charred at her touch growing. Nicole was always busy, Dr. B made sure of it, so she rarely came out with the group on the weekends. But Waverly saw the looks, the glances, and the way Nicole’s eyes trailed over her as she left a room, the hidden smiles and fiddling fingers that no one else noticed, the scorched skin left in the wake of soft touches on her shoulder in passing. There was no doubt between them, there was only time wasted, assignments and papers and research which took up hours and left little time even to eat.
Truth was, meals at the Caf were just about the only time they ever saw each other. Waverly was so used to gobbling down her dinner, rushing to return to her apartment to read whatever god-awful bullshit textbook chapters were assigned for that night. But when Nicole had time enough to be pried away from her research to enjoy a meal, Waverly was sure to eat slowly, savoring every moment sitting with the woman across from her.
It had been nearly two months into the semester before Nicole, at one of these contemplative dinners, was tired of waiting for the right time which was clearly never going to come. Usually, meals in the Caf were wholly unmemorable, but Nicole could recall clearly the peas and carrots that were on her plate that day as she had stared at them, using a fork to push them around her plate as she gained courage.
“Nic?” Waverly had said quietly after noticing her nervous demeanor, her nickname making Nicole smile. It was that which made her look up and meet the brunette’s eyes, confidence be damned.
“Waverly, I hope I’m not reading this all wrong, but would it be alright - well, if you’re free, of course - if I took you out on a date this weekend?” She fidgeted with the fork a bit more.
Waverly let out a quick sigh, the concern in her face vanishing to make way for that sweet smile. “You’re definitely not reading it wrong, Nicole,” she managed. “I would like that very much.”
Looking back, she could have, should have, asked her out from day one. It would have saved them a ton of time, that’s for sure.
Laying on her bed with her hair tangled up in knots on the pillow beneath her, Waverly knew Wynonna was going to have a bone to pick with her the next morning when they had their weekly chat on the phone. Wynonna was the one to have sex on the first date if you could call having a random stranger buy you a drink at the bar a “date,” not Waverly. But if her sister could feel the fire that entrapped her, pushing her further into the creaky mattress and messy sheets, then maybe she’d understand.
As Nicole came up for air for a third time, her chin soaked and pupils shot with passion, Waverly remembered something from her earth science class, semesters ago. “The energy,” she panted.
Mind still hazy, Nicole shook her head and wiped her fingers on the sheets, making a mental note to offer to do Waverly’s laundry later. “What?”
“I was just thinking about this thing I learned, a while ago.” Her voice was breathy as she tangled her fingers in flaming hair to ground her. “There are certain things which create energy, they’re the sources , and other things which absorb it, called sinks. I…” Their eyes met and Waverly saw a softness there, which boiled hotter than fire, warmer than the smolder of Nicole’s skin against hers, kindling a flame within her. “I think you’re my source,” she finished, the train of thought having long ran off the tracks. All I know is that this is something special.