Apocalypse + Cigarettes After Sex
1:03 âââ¬ââââ 4:50
â ââ 12 â¹â¹ â»
New York â Your Apartment
Morning comes fast. Too fast.
You wake up to Kamalaâs arm draped over your waist, her breathing slow and steady against the back of your neck. It should be peaceful. It should feel like a win.
But your phone has been vibrating non-stop since sunrise. And its pissing you off.
You carefully untangle yourself from Kamalaâs hold and slip out of bed, grabbing your phone from the nightstand trying not to wake Kamala up. A dozen missed calls, texts from people you havenât heard from in years. News notifications flooding in like a damn apocalypse.
KAMALA HARRIS: THE AFFAIR THAT SHOCKED THE WHITE HOUSE
SENATOR REED CALLS FOR INVESTIGATION INTO HARRISâ CONDUCT
WHO IS THE WOMAN KAMALA HARRIS RISKED IT ALL FOR?
You rub your temples, already feeling the migraine setting in. Gosh, you knew then media would eventually move on and forget about this all but right now it felt like you and Kamala were the hottest topic going on in the world.
Behind you, Kamala stirs up slowly waking up. "Whatâs wrong?"
You glance at her, barely awake, hair a mess, looking so much softer than the headlines make her out to be.
You sigh, tossing her your phone. "Welcome to the shitstorm once again."
Kamala groans as she scrolls, rubbing her face. "Why are you even reading this bullshit? Its not worth it - of course Reed is running her mouth. That's the only thing shes good at."
"Yeah, no shit. And now the entire world is picking apart every single detail about you- about us. They even pulled up that one blurry-ass photo from a year ago where we were standing too close together at some gala."
Kamala smirks. "We were standing too close."
You glare at her. "Kam oh my god, focus."
She sighs, sitting up. "I knew this was coming. Im not surprised, I would like to say im not even bothered but I am incase bothered a bit."
You cross your arms. "So what now?"
Kamala looks at you, and for the first time, you see something different in her expression. Not fear. Not hesitation. She's tired, and pissed off - I mean, who wouldn't be. But this time it is different, it was time to resolve.
Resolve.
"Now, my dear" she says, voice steady, smirking "we donât hide. We fight back." And you almost cringe at that a little bit. This whole thing felt like it was pulled out straight out of a romance novel.
Washington, D.C. â The White House
The energy in the West Wing is different now. Not just controlled panicâthereâs a shift, first of all - everyone was unbelievably tired, but something more ruthless was blooming in Kamalaâs team.
Doug is already handling the press circuit, shutting down the affair rumors and making it crystal clear that there was no abuse of power. Meanwhile, Kamala is preparing for her first live interview since the press conference.
She adjusts her blazer in the mirror, then turns to her aide. "Are we ready?"
Her chief of staff nods. "As ready as weâll ever be."
As Kamala walks toward the interview set, she spots Doug leaning against the wall, watching her.
"You got this?" he asks.
She exhales. "Yeah."
Doug nods, then grins. "Good. Go kick their ass."
Kamala smirks, then steps onto the set.
The interviewer, a journalist with a reputation for being relentless, and a bit of a pain in the ass doesnât waste any time. "Madam President, letâs get straight to it and not waste our time with chit-chatting. The American people want to knowâwhy now? Why reveal this relationship in the middle of your term, knowing the backlash it would bring?"
Kamala clasps her hands together, unfazed. "Because I refuse to live a life dictated by fear. I have always fought for honesty, and it would be hypocritical of me to ask for trust while hiding a part of my own truth."
The interviewer leans forward. "But critics are saying this was extremly reckless. That it could damage not just your career, but the administration as a whole. How do you respond to that?"
Kamala doesnât even blink. "I don't agree that my personal life has any impact on the administration. We are professionals and all of us know how to keep our personal life separated from the political one. I think the real question is why honesty is considered reckless. Why being truthful about who I love is seen as more damaging than the corruption and lies we see every day in politics. Because at the end of the day, personal relationships and rumors are the last thing we should be worried about."
The interviewer raises an eyebrow. "So you have no regrets?"
Kamala shakes her head. "The only regret I have is that I didn't get to do this all sooner."
The interview continues, a battle of words and strategy. Its a heates interview, but Kamala holds her ground - as she does most of the time. Because this time, sheâs not just defending policyâsheâs defending herself.
New York â Your Apartment
You watch the interview from your couch, heart in your throat. The way Kamala speaks, the way she refuses to back downâitâs mesmerizing. She always had a good media training, she knew what to say. And it was showing.
When she finally walks through your door that night, you don't even hesitate. She looks exhausted but victorious. The flight inbetween New York and Washington (330km) was only around an hour long but it was still annoying.
This time you pull her into a kiss, slow and deep, like youâre trying to tell her Iâm proud of you without saying a word.
She melts into it, hands gripping your waist.
When you finally pull back, you brush your fingers through her hair, smiling softly. "That was hot as hell."
Kamala laughs, shaking her head. "Jesus, youâre impossible."
You grin. "But you love me anyway."
She pulls you closer. "Yeah," she murmurs against your lips. "I really do."
And for once, love isnât a secret. Itâs not something hidden behind locked doors, whispered in the dark.
Itâs real. Itâs loud. And itâs yours. Hopefully always will be.
A/N : votes appreiciated, the chapter after this will be the last chapter so I hope you will enjoy! Thanks for getting this far with me.