it had been a little less than a month since the last time you hooked up. and for shauna shipman, that was basically a drought.

you’d started pulling away. not blatantly — just subtly. you didn’t laugh at her jokes the same, didn’t reply to her texts within five minutes, and avoided being alone with her at parties—she could tell.

which, obviously, drove her insane.

shauna thrived on attention, validation, and chaos. and you had emotionally left her on read. so clearly, she was about to do something reckless.

you ran into her at a party. she looked like she always did — cargo pants, tank top, hoodie tied around her waist even though it was hot as hell. hair messy, drink half-full with something that smelled like cheap whiskey, and that look in her eyes like she’d come to raise hell.

when she saw you, she grinned. not sweetly. dangerously. she sauntered over like nothing had happened. like she hadn’t been ranting to Lottie for the last two nights saying “she probably hooked up with someone else” or “maybe I wasn’t as good as I thought.”

“bunny,” she said, voice rougher than usual. “finally caught you without your little fan club.”

you raised a brow.

“what do you want, shauna?” you said, raising a brow.

she shrugged, leaning way too close against the wall next to you.

“nothing. just catching up with my favorite emotional damage victim.”

“how tender,” you said, flatly. your tone dripping with irony with a fake smile.

she snorted, that half-laugh that came out more nose than mouth, eyes flickering to your lips for half a second.

“you know I had a dream about you last night?” she said suddenly. “one of those cliché-ass ones. you in my bed. you in my hoodie. you saying my name like you’d been rehearsing it.”

pause.

“and I woke up so confused. like… why the hell would I dream that when it already happened?”

you just stared at her.

she smirked like the devil with a crush.

“then it hit me: oh. it’s ‘cause I’m supposed to do it again.”

“did your psychic frat dreams tell you that?”

“exactly. i’m like a hot witch.”

pause. she leaned in closer.

“c’mon, bunny. one last time. just to see if it cures me. maybe I’m going through emotional withdrawal. it’s not healthy. something in me is gonna rupture.”

“maybe you should try someone else,” you said, not moving, sipping from your glass and shrugging slightly.

and that… that got a different smile. not the party one, not the i-don’t-give-a-damn one. it was fleeting. barely there. but it hurt.

“yeah, sure. like it’s that easy, huh?”

long pause. the silence filled with bass drops and drunk laughter from people who had no clue someone was falling apart right next to them.

“i’m not asking for love,” she said, voice lower now. “no promises. just… one more night.”

pause. then her trademark sarcasm, covering up the mess underneath:

“call it community service. you’d be helping out a simp with her abandonment issues.”

and there she was. all of Shauna. fragile behind the smirk. your favorite disaster, begging through jokes.