signed_sabrina | (no subject)

The thing about having a boyfriend you've dated in multiple realities, Sabrina thinks, is that it's hard to pin down certain things, like... anniversaries. Not that she's sure she would count Lupercalia as an anniversary the way she counts New Year's with Charlie, or how she's already making plans for sexy Halloween costume fittings to have with Rosie. It's the anniversary of her being honest with herself about wanting Nicholas Scratch in her bed, or more appropriately, wanting to make a bed with him under the moon, on top of that red cloak--

Mrrr.

"I do not have a weird costume fetish," she says, glancing down at Salem as they take the elevator up to Nick's place. "And you're not psychic, that was just a really good guess at what I was thinking, because that's why I'm here, to make Lupercalia plans with Nick."

The elevator door dings open, and Salem trots away, leaving her to follow.

"Also, just because of the dressing room with Charlie and the costume and Rosie and of course the cloak," Sabrina says, "okay, there's a pattern. But you know, that's not even what I'm worried about discussing with him. Lupercalia was special for a lot of reasons, but there's some really bad ones in there too." And try as she might, she's only mostly wiped the apprehension from her features when she knocks first, and then turns the handle of the door, Salem trotting in before her.

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"Of course I will," says Nick, squeezing her hand and leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of her mouth. "We can make it whatever we want. Nothing to do with your father at all."

Sabrina allows herself a moment of being absolutely stupid with love before she offers up any plans. "The best parts about being a witch never had anything to do with him anyway," she says, scooting even closer, as if to pretend she's going to be anywhere but his lap within the next five minutes.

"I think that we should go to whatever party pops up on the fourteenth itself, Valentine's Day," she says, "and then we can take Rosie and Charlie moon-bathing. And then the night of the fifteenth, you and I can go to the woods and celebrate the part we missed."

"All of that sounds perfect," says Nick, brushing a strand of her white blonde hair back from her face as she shuffles closer to him. "Especially finally getting to have that night with you."

She leans into the touch, much more centered and calm now, one more thing corrected and one more regret no longer tugging at the back of her thoughts. "It should be easy to get supplies, and I suppose there's a shopping trip to be had with Rosie."

As if she's anything but delighted by that.

"I've never known you to pass up an opportunity to buy new underwear," says Nick, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Are you planning to match, or...?"

Sabrina tries to look indignant for nearly three full seconds before laughing instead.

"I think we should, shouldn't we? A fine tradition we'll keep from the Academy." Her head tips. "I think she'd be very fetching in one of those little dresses, too, but another day."

"I kind of like it when you don't match, to be honest," says Nick, his smile still broad, his hand stroking against her thigh. "Less echoes of the Weird Sisters that way."

That catches her attention, and she nods.

"That makes... a lot of sense. Because that's not us, not at all." Pushing further into his touch, she hums thoughtfully. "Different, then. All of it, maybe? Is there-- anything, really, you want to keep? Or-- none of it, except you and me and the moon? It's about us, after all."

He slips his arms around her waist, pulling her almost entirely into his lap.

"Just you and me and the moon sounds pretty perfect to me, babe," he says.