Work Text:
From: Samwell University Alerts
To: All Students, All Staff
Subj: Jan 19 SNOW CLOSURE
This is your notice that the university will be closed today, January 19 due to snow. All classes are canceled. Please check the university website for details about dining hall hours of operation.
For once, checking her email immediately after turning off her alarm doesn’t bring April anxiety or more work to do. She reads the email canceling classes and makes the decision to ignore her inbox for the day, and goes back to sleep for another hour.
Well, she tries to.
“APRIL! WE HAVE A SNOW DAY! APRIL, SNOW DAY!” March’s yells are loud enough to wake the dead, not to mention the rest of the volleyball house. Giving up on the extra sleep, April heaves herself out of bed and yanks the door open.
“Oh good you’re up!” chirps March. “Get dressed, I have a whole plan for us today.”
“It couldn’t have waited an hour?”
March just grins. “Absolutely not, I’ve been planning this since the season ended.”
Helpless in the face of her best friend’s enthusiasm, April grins back. “Fine. You’re an absolute mad woman, but fine. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
She rushes through her routine, changing out of pajamas into her coziest sweats, and brushing her teeth before heading to the kitchen. There’s no way that March’s plan doesn’t include caffeine. April’s not disappointed – the scent of coffee hits her nose as she hits the bottom of the stairs.
“Coffee for you while the pancakes cook.”
“Such service, what did I do to deserve this?”
April shrugs, not looking at her. “All part of the plan. I actually traded Bitty for use of our oven for a stash of his special pancake mix.”
“Doesn’t the Haus have an oven? I’m pretty sure we’ve eaten pizza bagels cooked in there after at least one kegster.”
“Apparently he’s doing a practice run of a recipe that he doesn’t want the hockey boys to know about.”
“Huh. Good job getting some of that mix. I heard the swim team scheming to get their hands on some just last week.”
April flips the pancakes with a deft hand. “Who’d have thought being tight with the hockey team would have led to top tier pancakes?”
“Not me,” March snorts.
The pancakes are delicious – to no one’s surprise. Bitty’s a blessing the hockey team doesn’t deserve.
April does the dishes while March calls around to all of their teammates who live on campus, making sure they have enough supplies. She has to drag her eyes away a few times – the Serious Captain face March makes is like a siren song.
“Yeah, we can totally bring you some. Are you sure you want to stay there? We still have the couch available here,” March is saying as April dries off her hands. The way her lips are pursed in concern is cute. “Okay, well if you change your mind later, that’s not a problem. Mmhmm. See you in like half an hour, forty minutes.”
“Who needs what?” April asks.
“Lizzy. She was doing laundry today, but her dorm’s dryer is malfunctioning and she doesn’t have any dry socks.”
“Well let’s grab some from the promo box and we’ll get going, then.”
“Dress warm – part of my plan was to walk around campus.”
Samwell is always beautiful, but a snow-covered Samwell is on a whole other level. Every tree branch is outlined in white, looking almost like a postcard; icicles hang from every roofline, catching the light. The Pond is totally frozen over and despite the cold, there’s a couple of people racing around the perimeter on skates. April recognizes Bitty from his size and Jack Zimmermann because he is wearing his practice jersey. What a hockey robot.
They drop off the socks for Lizzy and wander around campus, talking like they always do, about anything that comes to mind. It’s always been easy to talk to March, which surprised April when they first met. She’d never been good with first impressions but March hadn’t let April’s natural wariness and reticence deter her. March had basically elbowed her way into April’s life on the first day of volleyball practice and never left. April wouldn’t want to be co-captains or best friends with anyone else.
“...and I was just like, Sierra, you can’t just assume that everyone’s going to be free with that short of notice, ya know?”
April hums in acknowledgement, suddenly unable to find her voice as she glances over at March’s profile. The quickly setting sun is catching the strands of her blonde hair, outlining her in gold, and highlighting the flush of her cheeks. April has been in love with her best friend so long it’s just part of the background of her life, but every so often, like right now, it smacks her in the face.
April is so caught up in the sight that she doesn’t notice a stick in the path and trips spectacularly. She flails and braces for the impact with the ground – but it never comes. A strong hand clamps around her upper arm and another around her waist and then she’s being hauled up and spun around with such force that she and March are nose to nose.
“Shit, April, are you okay?” March pants, eyes wide with concern.
“Yeah,” April breathes. She’s never been more aware of her body where it’s pressed up against March’s. Each point they’re touching feels like a live wire under her skin. This close to her face, April can count each of March’s freckles scattered along her cheekbones; sees all the shades of green in her eyes. They’re so close that the clouds of their breath are mingling between them.
“You’re not usually so clumsy,” March murmurs. She’s got some hair in her eyes. April’s arm moves without conscious input from her brain. She delicately curls the loose strand behind March’s ear.
“I was a little distracted.” Her heart is thudding in her chest. She’s seen enough rom coms to know that this is the moment she says something.
“By what?” March is all but whispering now.
“You,” she says, with a small smile.
April leans in, slow enough that March can back away if she wants to. But, like always, March is on the same page and meets her halfway. Their lips catch in a kiss that feels like a question and an answer all at the same time. For April, it’s the culmination of nearly three years of being content with friendship, hoping for more, but unwilling to take the chance.
The kiss comes to a natural end and March pulls away, but only far enough to hide her helpless, happy giggles in the crook of April’s neck. April just chuckles, still a little in disbelief, and rubs March’s back.
“Was this part of your plan?”
March straightens up, beaming wider than April’s ever seen. “A little early in the schedule, but,” she ducks her head a bit, “I hoped, yeah.”
“Were you trying to woo me?” she teases.
“I don’t barter for pancake mix for just anybody, April.”
She can’t help but dive in for another quick kiss, pleased beyond belief.
“When were you going to go for it?” she asks, curious now.
“I had a whole romantic plan, you know,” March says wryly. “I was going to set up a blanket fort and put on a movie – I hadn’t decided which—”
“Come on, you’ve been planning this for months, you totally did—”
“Alright, alright. I was going to put on Snow Day. It felt – thematic, I guess,” admits March.
April can feel her smirk softening as it clicks. “‘Anything can happen on a snow day’, right?”
“Yeah – I figured, it worked for those two crazy kids, it might just work for us.”
“Well,” April says, grabbing March’s hand and tugging her back along the path, toward home, “There’s nothing that says we can’t still do that.”
“Huh?”
“Move your feet, co-captain, we’ve got a blanket fort to build.”
March’s delighted laughter echoes across the Pond, and they go back to the house hand in hand.