Work Text:
Today was going to be a perfectly normal day, even by Boiling Isles standards. Just another day with plans to lay the groundwork for what would be a successful future once said plans came to fruition.
So why did something feel a little... off today?
That thought had been eating away at Boscha all morning as she went about getting ready for the day, and it was starting to drive her nuts. She'd gotten what little homework she had to do taken care of the night before to free up her weekend, she finished her Saturday morning workout routine and already cleaned up so she wouldn't reek of sweat for her afternoon plans, she'd even made sure to double-check that said plans were still on (and couldn't resist rolling her eyes at some of the pics Penstagram had to offer today, including one of Amity and the loser squad that made her blood boil a bit at having forgotten to unfollow the Blight since they'd cut ties).
All she was doing was meeting Skara to discuss game plans for the upcoming Grudgby season over some eye-scream, so why did she have this weird feeling burning in her chest at the thought?
She quickly shrugged it off and finished throwing on her outfit of choice for the meeting before taking a few moments to get a few pics so she could upload them to Penstagram on the way, giving her something to distract herself from whatever was insisting on running through her head today. She heard her mom call out for her to have a good day wherever she was going, but she ignored her. She was already feeling off today for unknown reasons, and the last thing she needed was to get held up in a conversation with her mom that was mostly going to consist of her trying to pry for anything that she could then turn into a bragfest between her and Amity's mom.
Boscha loved her mom dearly, even if she didn't show it at times like most teenagers who cringed at some of the ways their parents tried to stay connected with them, but she truly believed the woman needed a new hobby, and not just because she and Amity were no longer dealing with each other even if no one in the upper social circles knew it yet.
The thought of letting that fact slip and watching whatever would happen to Amity once her parents found out had crossed her mind once or twice, but she ultimately decided the effort wasn't worth it and it simply wasn't her style anyway. That would be their problem to sort out if and when Amity's new choice of friends was discovered, not hers.
As she walked into town, her third eye ensuring she didn't walk into anyone while the other two were focused on getting her latest post up, she found herself nodding her head at the typical sounds of a usual busy Saturday in Bonesborough. It was a habit she'd picked up from hanging out with Skara for so many years, as the girl could easily flaunt her Bard track prowess by finding a beat to turn into music even among the sound of chaos that came with people climbing over one another in a bidding war over whatever merch each stand happened to be selling that day. Once her friend had taught her the trick, Boscha had to admit that it was surprisingly catchy to make her own song out of the sounds as opposed to just listening to something through her scroll.
Her mental music track was paused as the strange feeling returned, but she quickly tried to shrug it off.
'I think I'm stressing a little too much over this meeting,' she tried to reason in her head. 'We can't afford to slip up at the finish line again like we did last season, and Skara's the only one who was free today to help make sure we take the championship this time.'
Boscha's thoughts continued to wander in a way that seemed like her mind was trying to annoy her about something today. Nothing against Skara, but Amelia and Cat would have been her first choices for this meeting purely because they were the ones who were on the field with her most of the time, and they had been just as upset over that loss as Boscha had. But Cat had a date with someone and insisted on spending all day getting ready for it and Amelia was supposedly swamped with make-up work she needed to knock out after missing most of the week with a rather bad bout of dragon-hay fever. Skara was still very much part of the team, though, and even if she did find herself on the bench a lot, that also gave her the ability to see flaws that no one else could while being right in the middle of the action.
And yet, the way that Cat and Amelia had insisted that what they were doing was more important than a team meeting for next season almost felt like there was some sort of ulterior motive they knew that not even Boscha had been able to figure out yet.
Boscha would have loved to have more time to ponder this, but that wasn't a luxury she had anymore as she turned her attention away from her scroll and realized she was now standing just outside the eye-scream parlor she'd agreed to meet Skara at. The time on her scroll said she was a few minutes early, but considering her insistence on punctuality when it came to anything Grudgby-related, she was almost certain Skara was already waiting for her inside. Taking a deep breath to steady the nerves she swore were betraying her today, she opened the door.
“Bosch! Over here!”
No sooner had she made her way inside, the familiar voice caught her ears and she turned to find Skara waving her over, the table she was seated at already hosting a rather large pot of a chocolate-bloodberry swirl of eye-scream. Seeing their two favorite flavors mixed together in perfect frozen treat harmony had the Grudgby captain's heart doing weird things in her chest, but she managed to shake it off and went to take the seat right beside her teammate and friend.
“You weren't waiting long, were you?” Boscha questioned as she sat down.
“Maybe fifteen minutes or so?” Skara sheepishly admitted. “I couldn't resist getting here early to have some peace and quiet to figure out my homework. My siblings have been a real headache all morning.”
Boscha glanced down at the sheet music Skara had been attempting to write out for one of her composition classes, somehow understanding her struggle even without any experience. She couldn't recall how many times she'd heard Skara or Amity vent about how much their siblings got on their nerves in one form or another, and for as much as she boasted about the joys of being an only child, a small part of her always felt jealous about being the only one stuck beneath her parents' gaze and having to bear all their lofty expectations over being able to share that burden with someone else.
“How's the homework going, then?” she asked, trying to maintain a casual conversation as she grabbed a spoon and scooped some of the eye-scream into her mouth.
“Better, but I doubt I'll be getting it done today,” Skara shrugged as she grabbed the sheet and stuffed it into her backpack that was sitting beneath the table. “Besides, right now we should be getting down to Grudgby business, right?”
“Right,” Boscha replied, though her voice clearly carried an air of distraction to it as she glanced over at Skara, her mind going blank as her eyes got lost in those cloudy gray irises. She swore she saw a bit of red begin to dust Skara's cheeks, but the Bard witch quickly seemed to snap out of it before setting a folder on the table that contained what looked like a bunch of diagrams that dictated plays.
“So... one thing I noticed from that finals fiasco is that St. Epiderm seemed to pick out pretty quickly that you're our strongest player,” Skara elaborated, “and they used that to keep cutting off everyone else to make you have to do all the work.”
“I probably could have taken that whole team by myself if need be,” Boscha casually threw out as she ate another spoonful of eye-scream, though that only brought a frown to her friend's lips.
“They built an entire strategy around knowing you'd try, and that's how they were able to wear you out!”
Boscha went to retort, but paused when she thought back to that game and the point Skara was making. For most of the game, the score had been pretty neck-and-neck, and while Boscha had indeed done most of the heavy lifting because St. Epiderm had intentionally kept the others well-guarded if passing was the better option, the other team were able to weave their way down the field with ease through a coordinated attack that the Banshees had come nowhere close to snuffing out. Being pushed to do all the work eventually did take its toll on Boscha despite the fantastic shape she always stayed in and having to be sidelined for the final three minutes after she'd nearly fallen victim to a rolling guillotine when her body finally ran out of gas gave the other side the opening they needed to create an avalanche that Hexside stood no chance of recovering from.
“I was so worried...”
Boscha snapped out of her thoughts at Skara's admission, though the girl was clearly trying to look anywhere else except at the team captain. Boscha honestly didn't remember much after she blacked out as her body threw in the towel on her mid-game, but she barely recalled hearing Skara call her name out of concern and fear, something she'd never heard anyone show for her before.
“Sk-Skara?” Boscha hesitantly questioned.
“I know Grudgby is a dangerous game and you have no problem throwing yourself headfirst into it because you thrive on the chaos that happens on that field,” Skara choked out, clearly fighting to hold back tears as she remembered back to that game. “But that night, I saw something I never thought I'd ever see, and I... I...”
Skara's breath hitched as she felt a finger on her cheek, turning slightly to see Boscha gently wiping the forming tear away from her eye. Her face began to turn red, and the easy assumption for both girls to make was that it was due to embarrassment because Skara actually cried in front of Boscha, something her friend group was practically forbidden from doing because weakness was never tolerated.
And yet, Boscha could never bring herself to enforce any of her normal social rules on Skara. She never held it against her if she was having a little too much fun with the likes of Bo or being far too focused on a conversation that even Boscha could care less about and therefore it wasn't worth the effort. The others had plenty of opportunities to even call her out on it when she was always strict with them, and yet, they never did. It was just an unspoken rule that Skara was the exception, even though that never stopped her from trying to stick to those rules herself.
“You don't need to worry about me Skara, I can take care of myself,” Boscha told her, although the words weren't as confident as she wanted them to be. She gently scooped some of the eye-scream onto the spoon and held it out for her surprised friend, who hesitantly leaned forward and ate it without any regard to the fact that spoon had been in Boscha's mouth twice already. “But... it's still nice of you to try and look out for me when I get a little too stubborn about some things, like Grudgby.”
Skara couldn't help but blink, trying to process if she'd heard that correctly. Never, in her wildest dreams, did she ever expect to hear Boscha, of all witches, admit that it was nice that somebody cared for her. Boscha was a product of the strict social expectations of the higher social circles much like Amity had been, and even Skara had found some of her personality being molded by what was necessary for her to uphold her family's name and keep the hierarchy of the Isles as it had always been.
Unlike Boscha, however, Skara had always found a sort of balance in things that her peers never seemed to consider. She didn't like being mean and nasty, but it became easy to fake with enough time by simply learning from Boscha, especially since the two had been considered friends long before anyone else was added to their little group. It wasn't a look Skara necessarily liked, but it helped keep her where she needed to be so she could reserve her true nature for quieter moments where no one but a select few would ever pay attention to what she was doing. Boscha was one of those few, and there always seemed to be a silent understanding between them that was never to be addressed in front of anybody.
They had both seen each other at their worst and helped to pick one another up when all was set and done, and if no one else understood what existed between them, then that was perfectly fine.
“So...” Skara hesitantly said once she'd swallowed her eye-scream, “I know what we agreed to talk about, but... maybe we can hold off on discussing Grudgby plans for a bit?”
Boscha scoffed, though she meant nothing by it. The action was meant to throw off anyone else who might be glancing over in their direction that Boscha had any reason at all to ever discuss anything besides the sport she had practically become famous for around Bonesborough. “What else would we even talk about?”
“I don't know,” Skara admitted. “What have you been up to lately, now that the season's over?”
Boscha raised an eyebrow at that, looking legitimately confused for a moment at the question. The last time she'd been asked that, she'd tried to avoid the conversation because her mom was trying to get anything that would turn into ammunition when she had her weekly meetup with Mrs. Blight. And yet, Skara seemed genuinely interested, being willing to ask the question she normally wouldn't because their little group never discussed what they did alone and only focused on what they could do together.
“Well... um...” Boscha struggled to answer at first, mostly because she didn't have anything too interesting to share. Her Penstagram account would certainly suggest otherwise, but it was easy to use magic to stage just about anything if it tricked her followers into believing her life was so much more than it really was. Skara knew her better than that, though, and Boscha couldn't find it in her to even try and lie to the other girl. “Not much, honestly. Mostly doing schoolwork, keeping up appearances on Penstagram, and trying to stay in shape for next season. My dad's been pushing me to work out harder and improve my cardio so that... embarrassment doesn't happen again.”
Boscha cringed as the word left her lips, and Skara herself looked disgusted at hearing it. She was very much aware of how much of a pro Grudgby legend Boscha's father was, and that translated into trying to push his daughter to follow in his footsteps and be a ruthless athlete to be feared and respected no matter what. She knew that being beaten by sheer strategy for the championship wasn't going to go over well, but it still hurt to hear. Heck, as much as she went on to praise Willow and Luz for their efforts after that game, in the back of her mind, she was grateful that her team had won, even if it was due to the Smidge, because she shuddered to think about how Boscha's dad would've reacted to that news.
“Bosch,” Skara hesitantly began, “please tell me he's not pushing you to your breaking point.”
“Thankfully, no. But he always comes close, and his insistence that I need to re-earn everything I'd built for myself...”
Boscha trailed off as she felt Skara's hand gently grasp her own, fingers intertwining without a second thought. The action had sent shockwaves through the Potion witch's body as her heart insisted on barreling full steam into her ribs, but despite growing very aware of her cheeks growing hotter, she made no effort to pull away. This wasn't the first time they had ended up like this, and despite the impact it always had, it was just another one of those natural things that just went unaddressed.
Today, though, seemed like it was inching closer to being the day that finally changed.
“I hate it Boscha,” Skara said, her voice carrying an edge that even Boscha had rarely heard before, and it certainly didn't help the storm of feelings she was caught in the middle of right now. “I hate all these dumb expectations that we're supposed to keep living up to, I hate that this is just considered 'normal' and we're supposed to just suck it up and move on to the point where we eventually need to do this to our own kids. My parents already half-expect me to be the perfect big sister that all my siblings have to live up to, like it's all just some kind of competition. I'm tired of competitions Bosch, I just want-”
Skara's eyes went wide as the rest of her rant died on her lips.
The same lips that had just been captured by Boscha's own.
Boscha could no longer stand to hear Skara spiral about the situation they both hated but never put a voice to out of fear of it getting back to their parents, but she also wasn't going to tell her she was wrong. Truth be told, Boscha hated being in this position just as much. She didn't mind being mean and nasty if need be to get to the top, but all the effort of having to stay there had worn on her with time and made her question if it was truly worth it on several occasions. Skara certainly deserved so much more than having to play those same games as far as she was concerned, but here she was, sitting right beside the Grudgby captain and having to join her in fitting into that neat little mold they were just expected to fill with no effort. The act had been purely on impulse, driven by Boscha's confusing feelings and the need to silence Skara before she let herself fall apart any further.
As her third eye opened to glance at the melting eye-scream that sat forgotten, she told herself she'd made the right call in using her lips to do the trick instead.
Besides, when the shock had worn off and Skara found herself kissing back without a second thought, everything finally fell into place.
As their lips parted, they stared at one another in a mix of surprise and admiration, both coming to the same conclusion as to why things had always felt different but natural to them all at the same time. It was the same reason why Skara was the one person who truly cared about Boscha's well-being and was never told off for it, the reason why Boscha never held Skara to the same exacting social standards she kept everyone else to for the sake of her own image. Looking back on it, they realized the signs had always been there, and they had a feeling Cat and Amelia might have picked up on a few of them and opted not to say anything, wanting the two of them to figure it out on their own.
No words needed to be spoken as far as they were concerned, and they were content with settling into the comfortable silence that had now fallen over them, hands still joined on the table and leaning into one another. If anyone else in the eye-scream parlor was looking at them, they didn't say a word, and it was probably better that way if they knew what was good for them. Time itself was forgotten about as they just sat there, silently coming to terms with where things had gone between them and the fact that neither one of them had a problem with that, almost like it was just an inevitable thing waiting for that one spark to set everything in motion.
“So... what do we do now?” Boscha finally asked, struggling to maintain her normal confidence in the face of having wandered into unknown territory here.
“I... I'm not sure...” Skara admitted, her gaze turning to their linked hands and the eye-scream pot that had long since melted to a point where it looked more like soup.
“...right...”
Boscha bit her bottom lip, trying to figure out where they go next. It's not that she was afraid of being public about this, considering some people likely believed they already knew this was going to happen and anyone else in the dark likely wouldn't care just because 'they're both from the higher social circles so it just makes sense,' as much as that thought had the Potions witch eager to introduce faces to fireballs because there was so much more to this than just social standing.
“...Amelia and Cat are going to be mad we didn't make the game plans for next season, aren't they?” Skara couldn't help but ask, eyes drifting over to the discarded folder sitting in the light of the late afternoon sun.
“They'll get over it,” Boscha told her, finally finding that familiar firm tone of voice that left no room for argument for the first time today as she squeezed Skara's hand. Skara turned to meet the three eyes of the other witch, and her lips couldn't resist curling into a delighted smile that Boscha was all too happy to return. “Say, do you need help with your homework?”
Skara couldn't help but raise an eye at that. “You want to help me with Bard homework?”
“Wouldn't it help to have an audience give feedback before you have to present it for class?” Boscha grinned, knowing that Skara had asked her several times in the past when her schedule was lighter if she could hear her play, and despite making a show of wanting to resist Boscha was more than happy to hear whatever melody Skara had crafted this time around. Skara seemed more surprised by the fact that Boscha had been the one to suggest it this time.
“Well, what are we waiting for then?” Skara eagerly swept everything into her bag as both girls stood up, their hands never separating even as they left the parlor to head to the Treasure Shack where they knew they could have some peace and quiet together.
Neither one of them knew what would come next, and neither one of them cared. For the first time in... maybe ever, things felt right for the both of them, and they had no plans on letting that go for any reason. And if anyone had an issue with it?
Well, Skara wouldn't mind watching Boscha use somebody for target practice if they deserved it, and she'd be more than happy to provide the soundtrack to the whole affair as well.