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Suletta grows up on Mercury dreaming of romance, of holding another person in her arms.
It’s all over the place— even on Mercury, desolate as it is, it can be found, although it’s not as in-your-face as it is in the media she consumes. There are plenty of married couples here, although most of them are older. Each year, the number of young people seems to dwindle, either through death or through them simply moving away, trying to find a job elsewhere. If the work they choose is no better for their body or their wallets than is the mining, at least they’ve left Mercury behind. There aren’t many prospects on Mercury.
Suletta feels this more and more with each passing year. She becomes a voracious reader as a teen, poring over books on her phone and the rare paperback her mom will bring her when she returns from a business trip. These she keeps in a tottering old bookshelf in their living room, their already worn spines becoming absolutely decrepit, pages falling out where she’s read them so many times. Her mom smiles and calls them well-loved when she opens one to excitedly read a passage to her and a sheaf of pages falls to the floor, Suletta’s face dropping with them. This cheers her, and she sets about to returning the pages to their proper order before reading to her mother.
She has her mask on. She has it on more and more, these days, and it doesn’t— bother her, so much, as it makes her sad. Suletta would like to see her face. She wishes her mother wouldn’t hide her pain from her. But this is selfish— if she’s wearing it at all, it’s because she’s in pain, and so Suletta shouldn’t complain. She refocuses on the book in her hands. It had been a special request. She’s read the other books in the series on her phone, through public archives, but this one in particular is the most romantic, she thinks. It’s something about the anticipation, better than when they actually become engaged in this book, or when they get married a little while later. Courtships were different back then— people would go together, but it wasn’t dating, not exactly, and it would end in either cold indifference toward the other or a happy engagement followed by marriage.
She clears her throat and begins to read. It’s the first time the boy proposes to the heroine, who, incidentally, is a redheaded rural schoolteacher. Suletta isn’t so foolish as to wonder why this series has captivated her so. Their lives are very divergent— this girl has a temper, whereas Suletta is more soft-spoken; she hates her red hair, while Suletta loves hers; and she’s an orphan, where Suletta is not— but she can still see enough of herself in her to dream of living her life. She lives in a house with all her college school friends, she goes to parties, she’s courted— she gets proposed to over five times in this novel! It’s everything Suletta hopes for.
But she turns down his proposal. She doesn’t see him that way, until it’s almost too late.
Prospera listens to her in silence, a small smile playing on her lips as she does so. She likes being able to make her smile. Her mother’s happiness makes her happy. Suletta finishes the passage, clutching the book to her chest. It’s romantic, but in an awful way— he loves her so much, but she doesn’t yet know she feels the same. Prospera’s smile widens, and she laughs.
“That’s a very old book,” she remarks. “I’d forgotten— I read it when I was just a girl, too.”
Suletta’s interest is piqued. Her mother doesn’t talk too much about her past— she’ll make a passing comment, here and there, and one time she’d told Suletta about her time in university, studying for her doctorate— so she treasures each anecdote she gives her. She scoots closer, folding her hands in her lap expectantly, the book still within her grasp.
“You’re not that old, Mom,” she says, and Prospera laughs again.
“No,” she agrees, “it was already a very old book then. Practically a relic of the past. It was written centuries ago, in an entirely different world.”
Suletta opens the book to the title page, which she turns over to find the copyright year. She blinks in surprise. Her mother is right (but then, Prospera is always right) and what’s more, the edition she holds in her hands is ancient as well. She holds it more tenderly, now. She needs to take good care of it, even better than she had been. She wonders where her mom came across it.
“What must it be like, to be in love?” she muses, looking at the book in her hands. She turns to her mother. “Have you ever been in love, Mom?”
Prospera turns her head to look at her, or anyway, it looks like she does. It’s hard to track her eyes when she has her prosthesis on. To Suletta’s surprise and delight, she gently unclips it, revealing her face.
She loves looking at her mom’s face. Their features are very similar— same nose, same cheekbones, same set of the mouth; but Suletta’s skin is darker than her mother’s, and her hair is red. She wonders where she got it from. Her biological father?
She doesn’t know much about him. She’d asked her, once, how she’d come to be— and Prospera had replied that Suletta had very much been wanted, but she had no father. At least, not in the social sense. There was no man out there, looking for her and hoping to claim her as his own, or otherwise— she hates to think that he wouldn’t have wanted her and her mother, to be a family with them— it’s always just been her and Prospera and Aerial.
“Yes,” her mother says. “Many, many moons ago.” Her smile is wistful. Suletta’s heart twinges. She doesn’t want her mom to be sad.
“He was your father,” Prospera continues, and this silences any quick word Suletta would have put in to tell her she could stop if it’s troubling her.
“I thought you said—”
“I meant in the traditional sense. You have a biological father, of course—” here Suletta relaxes; she’s always known that much herself “—but he was dead long before you were born.”
She has all sorts of questions. What was his name and did he look like me and of course, how did you two meet? Were you ever married? What was the wedding like? Did you want more children besides me? and then, a more solemn set of questions, ones she’s afraid to ask: Do you miss him? Are you lonely, Mom?
“He was a good man,” Prospera murmurs, reaching out to touch her hair. “You remind me of him. He would have loved you very much.” Her eyes have that same wistful tenor to them that her smile had, and Suletta stands quickly, wrapping her arms around her mother in a fierce hug. She doesn’t want her to be sad. She wants to be enough for her, to make her happy in her father’s stead. As interested as she is in knowing about him, she doesn’t want Prospera to be unhappy reminiscing about him. She won’t ask any more of her.
Her mother returns her hug, and then pulls back so she’s holding her at arm’s length, a gentle look on her face. “You’re a good girl.”
Suletta turns away to fetch her book. She’s going to go to sleep, now. She’d been in bed, but then she’d heard the door of their tiny apartment open, and that could only mean that her mother had returned from her trip to headquarters. Video chatting with her is all well and good, but she misses her when she’s gone. She loves Aerial, but the longer her mom’s trips get, the lonelier she feels. Prospera’s return is a balm to her stinging heart.
“Why don’t you try dating,” Prospera suggests.
She turns back around. “I mean— there’s not really anybody here—” Prospera laughs.
“Not on Mercury. Many young girls your age are attending school. Perhaps it’s time you started as well.”
School. It’s all she’s dreamed of since first hearing about it. Friends, classes, boyfriends— it seems to be the place to be. Suletta claps her hands together eagerly, but then she brings them together hesitantly. Not everybody else on Mercury has the same opportunities as she does. She feels… a little guilty, getting to go to such a prestigious school when her fellow Mercurians are barely scraping by. She’s not sure where her mom got the money for it, either, but perhaps it’s because of her standing within the Benerit Group. Perhaps tuition is free for company heads’ children. She really would be squandering her good fortune by not attending.
“Think about it. It’s still a ways away— Aerial isn’t quite ready to go with you, and you’re not old enough, anyway.” Suletta is recently fifteen; she understands that Asticassia students typically enter the year that they turn sixteen, but Aerial is undergoing extensive repairs right now. She may not be ready to go next year, either. It’s hard to say what condition she’ll be in when Suletta is old enough. Their missions can take a toll on her— Mercury has a very rough environment. And then there are the people of Mercury to consider. She feels a little wrong, leaving them behind with no one to run rescue missions in the mines. She may prolong her leaving just a little, even if Aerial is ready when it’s time to go. She wants to do them as much good as she can, before she takes her little hiatus.
“Now, I think it’s time for bed. For the both of us.” Prospera stands, patting the top of her head as she passes by. “Good night, Suletta.”
“Good night, Mom.”
-
Later, Suletta lies in her bed. Her thoughts are full, both of her book and her mom’s own mysterious narrative. Despite her cutting the conversation short, she’s desperate to know more about her father. Perhaps Prospera has photographs…
Then there are the dreams.
Dreams is probably not the right word. Fantasies is more appropriate, but this makes her feel embarrassed in a way she can’t place a finger on. It feels… uncouth. Unladylike, even. But she has nobody to daydream with, no friends to whisper to about boys or giggle with when they pass by. She chatters at Aerial about her daydreams, but even then, she edits. Her private thoughts make her feel squirmy, like the Earth animals she’s seen on the internet. She thinks they’re called worms.
She can’t picture any of the love interests in her books— that feels weird. Then there are no young men on Mercury to think of longingly, either. At least, none that would have her. Her mother is not very well-liked here, and neither is Suletta, as a result of being her daughter, and because she is awkward and too-intense, loud and shy. It’s okay. But it severely diminishes her romantic prospects in an already vanishingly small pool of suitors.
So she conjures up… images isn’t the right word. More often than not, they’re faceless, practically bodiless. She’s a tall girl— most boys are either her height or shorter, and she doesn’t know what she would like, in terms of features. She’s not actually sure what she’s imagining, when it comes down to it, and maybe that’s what makes her self-conscious. It feels like going through the motions, sometimes. Is she doing this right? Even in her romantic flights of fancy, she’s inept.
Mostly she just thinks of words. Things to whisper to each other, holding hands in the dark. Nothing really goes beyond that. It’s the same thing— she likes the buildup, the anticipation, where there are mutual feelings but they’re too shy to share it with one another. That in-between space. She doesn’t know what to do after the fact— many of her novels simply end with the two getting together, and obviously she has no practical experience of her own. Sometimes… she’s grateful for this. She doesn’t even know what she’d do with a boyfriend, if she had one. You’re supposed to kiss, she knows, and then there are things after that. These are almost as nebulous to her as the imaginary boy-shapes she thinks of, lying in bed. Prospera has taught her to read and write, as well as to do math, and now that Suletta’s reached a certain age, sex education has been introduced, but this is all very practical. She knows people do it for pleasure, but… she doesn’t know how it actually works. Or she does, but not the very fine mechanics of it.
Her face is incredibly hot again, and she hides it in the pillow bashfully. She’s all alone. She doesn’t know why her thoughts make her feel like this— there’s no hidden observer in her head, watching her. Her mother wouldn’t judge her for her imaginings either, but…
She lets out a slow breath. She won’t think much more about this until she goes to Asticassia. Then she’ll meet other young people, and hopefully they’ll be more receptive to her than the others here are. She knows part of it is because they have to become miners from a young age. She feels a sense of shame, at her being able to escape their fate, but at least she can help them with Aerial. At least she’s not completely useless to them. And then she’ll be able to open the school— this is her true passion. She wants to be able to give something to the people of Mercury.
She snuggles down under the covers. Things will be different when she gets to school. Then her great romance can really begin.
But then she meets Miorine Rembran. Then everything changes.
-
As far as she can remember, Miorine never once sees her father touch her mother while she’s still alive. This is the seed that plants the idea that he never truly loved her, and his actions after her death are simply the idea bearing fruit, as displeasing as she finds it. She loved her mother; she still loves her. If she and her father don’t share this in common, it wouldn’t be the only dissimilarity between them.
She has to go to Asticassia to see people— actual, real people; not on a screen or in a book or players in a theater— engage in displays of affection, and these she finds so unpleasant she’s rather glad her father never loved her mother. The first time she comes across a particularly egregious example, she decides she never wants another human being to touch her in any way, shape, or form.
They’re two soon-to-be graduating third-years; it’s the end of Miorine’s first year, and she’s elected to stay on campus over the break, the same way she has for the others. There’s nothing to go home to— not that she really considers Lagrange Four her home. She might as well enjoy what little peace she’ll get here, alone, before she’s married off to the Holder.
Her thoughts are following this dismal track when she happens across them, completely by chance, in a side corridor. She’d been passing through to avoid the other students; her status, both as Delling Rembran’s daughter and as the Bride, repels and fascinates them in equal measure. Many are more than willing to show her just how disdainful of her they are, and so she escapes their notice by spending as little time in public as possible. She’s become a ghost here.
They’re leaning against a wall— or she is, the boy all pressed up against her. She’s never understood the phrase, but as she watches, she thinks she finally knows what it means to have your tongue down someone else’s throat. The boy so clearly has his own down the girl’s.
Disgusting.
Miorine stalks haughtily past, a draft of air blowing up in her haste, and this finally separates the pair. The sound of guilty giggling and shushing follows her up the hall, and for some reason, her cheeks want to burn. She doesn’t know why. She’s done nothing wrong.
These hormonal displays of affection disgust her, turn her stomach. Maybe if she were a normal teenager, she might feel differently— but no, she doubts that. Behaving so shamelessly out in public would always annoy her. Go do it behind closed doors like normal people and leave everybody else out of it, for goodness’s sake.
Besides, she’s not a normal teenager. She’s barely even human, in some of their eyes. She’s the Bride, an object to be fought over and conquered, her own feelings on the matter never once taken into consideration.
She shudders a little. Some of the duelists clearly want her for her, but just as many are indifferent to her as a person. They’re more interested in what she and her name can do for them and their family— she almost prefers it this way, but these are more likely to treat her as a literal object. The ones who fancy they can form some sort of connection with her attempt, in vain, to court her. She shuts any and all of these sorts of advances down with icy finality. The thought of any of them touching her makes her feel weak and ill.
She has to get out of here.
There’s just one time she finds herself curious about affection. It happens shortly after this little display.
After the closing ceremony, Miorine stumbles across two girls getting ready to board a shuttle. They don’t see her at all; they’re too wrapped up in themselves. Her step slows— they’re going to run out in front of her. Then her heart seems to slow as well. They’re holding hands, the girl in front turning to say something to the one behind her, and then they’re both laughing, and something about that sound adds to the hollow feeling in Miorine’s chest, compounds it, until she finds it hard to breathe. Then they’re out of sight, and she thinks she’ll be able to breathe at last, but there’s still that funny weight sitting on her chest. The image of the two of them— joined hands, light laughter, faces full of joy— is burned on her retinas. There’s something so tender about it.
She forgets about it over the course of the night, returning to her solitary, quiet existence. She doesn’t even remember the feeling they imparted on her until months later, when Suletta comes to find her as she’s leaving the greenhouse. She’s walking down the path toward the building that houses the president’s office when she hears the slapping of hurried feet on the pavement behind her. She turns around; she already knows who it is.
“Ms. Miorine!” Suletta calls, waving one hand at her. Her mouth quirks into a slight half-smile, but the expression is so short-lived that Suletta probably misses it.
To her surprise, Suletta does not slow. She grabs hold of Miorine’s hand, pulling her along behind her. She’s very gentle, even in her excitement. If anybody else had tried this, it probably would have felt as if her arm were being wrenched out of its socket, but Suletta seems to wait until she’s moving with her to really begin running.
And then they both halt at the exact same moment.
Suletta drops her hand as if she’s been burned, turning to Miorine with wide eyes. Miorine isn’t looking at her. She’s steadfastly refusing to look at either Suletta or her own hand, the warm pressure of Suletta’s practically ingrained in the skin there. Her hand feels funny; so does her chest. Her fingers curl into a loose fist, as if to contain or even stop the sensation, but it goes on anyway. She’s inexplicably reminded of the two girls from that day. The feeling is the exact same.
She’s never been so aware of another person’s presence as she is of Suletta’s.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Miorine, I just— I got really excited. I— there’s something I wanted to show you…” She pokes her fingers together anxiously.
The first thought to come to her is horribly sentimental, and she’s glad that she’s so slow to let anybody know what’s really on her mind: You didn’t have to let go. She clenches her fingers around it so hard they would surely break from the pressure if they were actually being put to use. She can’t say that out loud to Suletta. Why would she ever?
“So let’s go, then,” she says, voice carefully neutral, and Suletta’s expression clears. She feels a slight pang at that— does Suletta prefer her this way?— but then they’re in motion again, Suletta’s tread slowing to a snail’s pace to match Miorine’s. She never once indicates that she’s frustrated, though, instead jabbering away at her as they walk in pursuit of… whatever it is.
“I wanted to show you,” Suletta repeats. “I’ve never seen them before, and I thought…” She trails off again, looking significantly at Miorine. She raises her eyebrows.
“You’re certainly hyping this up,” she says, and there’s the ghost of a smile on her lips again. Suletta isn’t looking at her, though, surveying the lush green grass around them.
“There they are!” she cries, pointing her finger out into the green space. Asticassia is a sprawling campus, full of little parks like this one. Miorine has found her out in the fields on occasion, either playing sports with her friends, or reading a book, or doing her schoolwork. She’s taken to asking Miorine to come along with her, and she’ll comply, from time to time. Suletta is an easy person to be around.
She leads them to a flowerbed, tucked away near a grove of trees. The shade casts dappled sunlight on the flowers, but Miorine instantly knows what she’s looking at when Suletta gestures to them with an eager flourish.
“They’re cosmos,” she says, because she knows this is why Suletta has called her here. She’s impressed by Miorine’s botanical knowledge, not just when it comes to tomatoes, but other plants, as well. She looks at the flowers for a second longer before turning.
“Oh, are you going?” Suletta’s voice is deeply disappointed. Miorine makes the motion a passable move to gaze at the trees above them; Suletta probably doesn’t notice.
“No, not yet,” she replies, and when she faces her again, she’s smiling. Miorine smiles back, her usual small smile. Suletta kneels down to poke at the flowers. Miorine comes to stand beside her. She’s a little surprised Suletta is so enamored of the cosmos; she’d seen tiger lilies once and barely spared them a passing glance. She would have thought she’d prefer a flashier flower such as that.
“They’re very pretty.” She strokes one of the petals in her tender way, and Miorine feels that lurching in her chest that she’s been experiencing for some time now, if she’s being truthful. She enjoys watching her with the plants. She’s always so careful with them.
She wonders if she would be this careful with her.
Suletta is oblivious to her thoughts. She really does want to leave, now; being around Suletta is like being near a maritime whirlpool, herself prone to being sucked into the depths of bathos. She’s never had these types of thoughts before. She should go back to her room. She needs to start gathering figures for Gund-arm, before she presents her proposal to Earth House. She’s sure they’ll agree, but she also knows there will be a few holdouts.
“I wanted to bring you some,” Suletta continues, “but… Oh.” Her cheeks turn red. She looks up at Miorine, eyes full of chagrin now. “I meant to get a pair of shears before we left. I forgot.”
Miorine lets out a laugh that she quickly smothers, so the only sound that can be heard is an undignified snrk. Trust Suletta to get so worked up she forgot what she even came for in the first place. The evidence of her amusement is still present on her face in the form of an unreserved smile, though, and Suletta’s eyes widen before a soft smile of her own is sitting on her lips, her eyes warm and gentle. Miorine bends down into a half-crouch beside her, their shoulders nearly brushing as she does so. She tucks the offending arm in so far it’s hovering between her legs. Sometimes… it’s like their chests contain opposite poles, the force drawing her nearer to Suletta. It feels completely out of her control. Miorine likes her personal space; she ought to respect Suletta’s.
“It’s okay. Now’s not a good time to clip them, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“You should do it earlier in the morning, when it’s cooler.” Asticassia’s climate settings are carefully controlled, but they do attempt to emulate natural conditions, if pleasant. They’ll get a little cooler overnight, remaining so into the morning. Life would become very boring very quickly, constantly living at seventy degrees Fahrenheit.
She thinks of Earth, with its changing seasons. The girl next to her shifts, drawing her attention back.
You wanted to bring me flowers? she thinks, eyes very intent on the flowers in question. They’re in soft pink and white hues, an occasional deep red thrown in for balance. It’s a very Suletta thing to do. Probably she doesn’t realize the inherent romantic implications of it, though. She’d just thought them pretty, and Miorine seems to be gaining a reputation as a flower girl amongst Earth House, and so it made sense to bring them to her. She meant nothing more.
She mimes a pair of shears with her fingers, bringing them to bear around the stem. “Cut them at this angle,” she instructs. “And make sure you put them in water as soon as they’re clipped.” When she looks up, Suletta is twisting her fingers together.
“Do you… want to come with me? Just so you can show me how to do it the correct way. I guess it’ll be early in the morning, though— you don’t have to.”
“We’ll have to get breakfast afterward,” Miorine replies indifferently. Suletta’s fists clench in excitement.
“Of course! It’s a—” She stops herself abruptly. Miorine looks at her askance before rising to her feet. Suletta’s face is… very gentle, in a way she’s never seen it before. Then she’s hauling herself up to stand beside her.
“Do you like them, Ms. Miorine? You didn’t say.”
“Sure. They’re pretty.”
-
Miorine arranges the vase of flowers in Suletta’s room. Suletta herself is watching her— or she was, her eyes now closed. Miorine smiles. She’d been carted off early this morning, to be stuck in various imaging machines for hours on end, or otherwise returned to her room to be inspected by doctor after doctor, some of the scientists of the former Group coming to see her as well. Suletta had borne it all in her typical sweet manner, but Miorine could tell that her energy was flagging in the early afternoon. She also knows that she’d fallen asleep within one of the machines. The radiologist had thought it cute.
She finishes her arrangement and takes her seat. Prospera has warned her that she’ll grow roots if she continues to stay in it, and maybe she’ll go to her room tomorrow, but she doesn’t want to leave Suletta alone overnight. Even if she sleeps the whole night through, she wants to be there for her, should she wake. Besides, she wants to spend time with her; they’ve barely had a chance to talk in the week since she’s woken up, between the testing and the doctors and everybody else milling around in her room. There’s always something to do, somebody to see her.
Suletta’s eyes reopen. “Thank you,” she whispers. Miorine takes her hand, and Suletta’s smile, if possible, becomes more radiant. Even though she can’t feel it, she enjoys these displays of affection. Miorine likes touching her, too, even if sometimes it is just as proof that she’s really here, after everything.
“You’re always thinking of me.”
Miorine becomes quiet. That’s not totally true— there had been one time where she completely disregarded Suletta’s feelings, despite telling herself she was doing it for her. She looks down. Now probably isn’t the time for that discussion.
“What’s wrong?”
Miorine swallows. She doesn’t want to upset her, but…
“I didn’t think about you,” she says quietly, “when I left you.”
“Miorine…”
They haven’t hashed this out yet. They’ve spent so much time together, but that’s been around the doctor’s visits, and the therapists, and Suletta falling asleep every couple hours because she’s so tired and in pain. Miorine can tell she is; she just doesn’t talk about it much. But now that she's started, she doesn’t think she can stop, the dam bursting around the flood of her words.
“I didn’t. I knew I was hurting you, and I— I didn’t care—”
“But that’s not true, is it?” Suletta asks softly. “It hurt you, too.” Pressure builds behind Miorine’s eyes at her words. She doesn’t understand how she can be so endlessly compassionate, even when she’s the injured party.
“It isn’t about me, Suletta—”
“I know. It did hurt me. But it hurt you, too. It’s okay to be sad about it. But… you did what you thought was best. I understand.”
“But it wasn’t. I should have asked you. What I did was wrong.”
Suletta’s face is very gentle. “It’s okay, Miorine. I don’t want you to be feeling badly about this. I… I was never mad at you. Please forgive yourself. If you’re unhappy… it doesn’t make me happy.”
Her voice is soft and pleading. Miorine scrubs at her eyes. She doesn’t want her to be in any more pain because of her. She needs to work on letting it go.
Suletta looks down at their hands. Her face is grave when she says, “I killed somebody.”
Miorine’s throat goes dry. She’d touched on it when she came back to her, but—
“I scared you. Didn’t I?” Suletta asks very quietly.
Miorine’s hand tenses, but she relaxes her grip. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” Suletta whispers. “I— I told myself it was okay because I was protecting someone I loved, but… what about his loved ones? I—”
Miorine reaches out to stroke her hair. Suletta clears her throat. “I didn’t even think of it that way until Sophie died… and then when Petra got hurt, I really thought about it. What I’d done.” She closes her eyes, exhaling slowly. “But I can’t take it back. The only thing I can do is move forward and try to respect his death. It’s… part of why I went to Quiet Zero. I wanted to stop Mom and Eri, but also… if I could use a Gundam to keep the same thing from happening to the rest of Earth, maybe it could begin to make up for what I did.”
Tears are falling down Miorine’s cheeks. Suletta’s face tightens, and she knows it’s because she wants to reach out and touch her. She wipes the tears away, and then she’s standing, surging forward without a single thought.
The kiss she presses to Suletta’s forehead is searing; Suletta makes a quiet noise of surprise, but then Miorine is cradling her face in her hands. She can feel the heat from the blood in Suletta’s cheeks against her palms.
“You’ve done enough. I think… you’ve more than made up for it.”
Suletta’s voice is small. “I still want to help. The people of Earth… they remind me of the Mercurians. At least, some of them. Their situations.”
“I want to help, too. We can do it together.” Suletta’s face relaxes into a smile. Miorine pulls away from her, then, but almost immediately she comes back closer. The kiss she presses to her cheek is much more gentle. Suletta turns her face so they’re cheek to cheek. She winds her arms around her, burying her face in her hair.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you… but I didn’t know how.” She hadn’t known how to reconcile the Suletta she’d come to know with the one who killed a man for her, a smile on her face even as she was covered in his blood. Then she’d foisted all responsibility on Prospera, because it was easier for her to blame her than it was the girl she loved. But it had still bothered her…
“I didn’t know how to, either. With a lot of things. And I didn’t know… I couldn’t confront it. That I could have done that… for a good reason… but it was…” Miorine pulls away to press her forehead to Suletta’s.
“It’s okay. I understand now. I understand much better than I ever did.”
She has to do the same with the people of Quinharbor: move forward while honoring their deaths. She wants to move forward with Suletta.
-
The first time Suletta kisses Miorine, she’s getting ready to leave for the night. After she woke from her coma, Miorine has slowly transitioned to sleeping in her bedroom, instead of Suletta’s hospital room, about half the time, sometimes more frequently. Suletta wishes she would sleep in her own bed, but she likes having her close by, too. It’s almost like sharing a home together, if you overlook the monitors and the bed with rails, and she has.
Tonight, she’s helping Suletta put on her sleep clothes, sliding the shirt over her head and then lifting her arms to pass them through the sleeves. They’d let her start wearing pajamas and loose-fitting clothes a couple weeks after she woke fully, no longer needing the intravenous lines to keep her alive. They want to keep her around for observation, though— they still don’t understand her situation at all, and seem to think that running more tests will help. She wonders how long it will be before she’s discharged.
Miorine then leans forward to unsnap Suletta’s bra for her, and this does make her blush. She never once lets on whether this embarrasses her— she does everything with unblushing, clinical efficiency, but there’s a gentleness in her demeanor as she does. Sometimes she worries that Miorine will tire of taking care of her, but if she has, she hasn’t told her so yet. She’d found out shortly after waking that Miorine had been helping the nurses shift her during her coma, washing her face and hair for her as well, and this had made her very emotional. She loves her so much.
She helps her swing her legs up into the bed, one arm going around her waist to lower her to the mattress. Then she brings the bedrail back up— one of the nurses had politely told her to stop lowering it so often, as Suletta is still a fall risk. A chastened Miorine has complied; Eri thinks it all very funny. She and her mother aren’t here right now. It’s just the two of them. She enjoys spending time with all three of them, and her friends from Earth House, too, but she also knows Miorine doesn’t like an audience.
Like now. Miorine kisses her cheek, bringing the covers up over her arms. Her face is still near hers, and she turns in her direction, her cheek brushing against hers. Miorine stills, and then her arms are coming up to wrap around her shoulders. Suletta wishes she could hold her back, but this is okay. She just likes to be near her.
She ruins the moment by opening her mouth.
“You don’t have to help me out so much, Miorine.”
A beat passes. Miorine leans away from her, and she’s sorry she ever spoke. “Do you want me to stop?” she asks. Her eyes are… very expressive. Miorine is still coming out of her shell slowly, her face thawing with time. Suletta knows she’s trying very hard to be more open with her, against the instincts she’s developed her whole life, and she feels guilty all over again for introducing this topic of conversation.
“I don’t want you to,” she tries to reassure her quickly. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to, either.” Miorine’s face softens. “I don’t want…” She doesn’t know how to say this to her. Miorine's going out of her way with her is both a nice feeling and… not bad, exactly. It’s just that it’s very intimate. She feels as if they’ve skipped several steps in their relationship, but then it was never a very straight course to begin with. They’d gotten engaged— in a manner of speaking— within a few days of meeting. It’s never bothered her before, but—
“I don’t know how to explain it,” she admits. She still struggles with putting her feelings into words. Even more so than she used to, at times; it’s like they literally aren’t there, not that she can’t express herself. The doctors have said it could be residual brain fog from her injuries. Miorine waits patiently for her every time.
“Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“Um.” She looks down at their hands. She wishes she could feel Miorine’s hand touching hers, but she knows the road forward is going to be very long. She may never recover sensation in or control of her limbs again. But at least she’s alive. At least her mother and Miorine and her sister and everybody else are, too.
But she can’t move. She’s been stuck in a hospital room for four months, and Miorine hasn’t left the station in just as long. She has things she needs to do, too. She doesn’t want her to lose sight of that because of her. She doesn’t feel right asking her to walk that road with her.
“Is this what you want?” she asks quietly. Miorine’s eyebrows draw together. “I— what if I can never move again? I don’t want to hold you back—” Miorine has dreamed of going to Earth and living there since she was a little girl. What if Suletta can’t go there with her? Even though she promised. She’d already given up on her dream once, when she founded Gund-arm, and that had been for Suletta, too. She can’t let her do that again. They’re only teenagers. They haven’t even married yet. She doesn’t have to stay with her if it’s not what she really wants. She isn’t bound to her in any way that really matters; she can make her own decisions now.
Miorine’s face is horrified, and Suletta feels a burning sense of shame for making it that way. “I—” she begins, but Miorine is pushing the bedrail down again, her arms coming back around her. Suletta’s breath catches in her throat a little, the way it had that first time she’d done this. All she can do is press her cheek against the top of her head.
“Don’t ever think of yourself that way,” she whispers. “You could never be a burden.” This time she does pull back, and Suletta sees the tears shining in her eyes. She can’t dry them for her, though. Miorine reaches up to do it herself, watching Suletta’s face.
“You said you only got this far because of me… but I was only able to make it here because of you. It goes both ways, Suletta. I want to help you because I love you.” Suletta’s heart goes pitter-patter, the way it does every single time she tells her this. “And I want to stay with you for the same reason. Not because of a dueling game, or because…” Her face becomes more knowing. “…I feel beholden to you for what you’ve done.”
They sit in silence. Miorine is looking directly at her now, and Suletta meets her eyes with a little difficulty. Her face softens, and she reaches out, touching Suletta’s cheek. This she can feel, and her own face flushes for it. The feeling her gentleness creates in Suletta is so overwhelming, it’s like she can’t breathe, sometimes.
“Is that what it is? Is that what you’re afraid of?”
“I’m not… afraid,” Suletta says. But it has crossed her mind. She doesn’t want to keep Miorine from doing what she wants, especially if she can’t do it with her. The ghost of their past rears up behind her, over her shoulder. She knows why Miorine did what she did. She isn’t angry about it— but then, she never had been— and she’s forgiven her, had forgiven her long ago. That’s not what it is. She knows she loves her. It’s the other issue: “I don’t want to take from you.”
“But you have to,” Miorine says quietly, and to Suletta’s surprise. “It’s give and take, Suletta. And you’re not taking anything from me that I don’t want to give you.”
Suletta swallows. “I… I want to give you things, too, Miorine.”
“I know you do,” she says. “And you do give me things. It can’t… it can’t always be you, though. You have to let me do things for you, too, Suletta. It’s no good if one person is constantly taking. I don’t want things to be like that between us.” She stares into her eyes, her thumb stroking her face.
Miorine’s words sink in slowly. She’d always tried to respect the hard lines Miorine drew, at Asticassia, despite wanting so badly to get to know her. She didn’t want to upset her. She’d been afraid to take from her— to intrude upon her solitude, to ask for her confidence. But Miorine had let her into her greenhouse, had allowed her to stay in the president’s office when she’d had nowhere else to go. She didn’t have to do that. She’d done it of her own volition, because she wanted to.
Miorine’s gaze is very intent on her face. She wishes she could take her hands. Instead, she smiles. “Okay,” she breathes. Miorine smiles back, and then she’s leaning forward to rest her head on Suletta’s chest, arms going around her torso.
“It’s not about what you can give me. You’re what I want,” she says quietly, and Suletta’s cheeks flare. Miorine’s being so direct with her is so new, and so strange, and… she’s changed. Suletta likes it, so long as Miorine is doing it because she wants to.
And then she realizes: this is a relationship. This is what she’d been missing out on, when the camera panned away from the couple kissing against the backdrop of a sunset to roll the credits, or the book ended with a happy love confession, no sequel in sight. She hadn’t really understood it, before her third duel against Guel, and she’d thought she’d understood it when she came back for Miorine, but as she listens to the sound of her breathing, around the beeping of the monitors, she realizes she’d still been misconstruing it. She’d wanted to be Miorine’s strength, because for so long she’d been the one helping Suletta, but it should be the both of them supporting the other. That’s what Miorine wants, and Suletta finds it’s what she wants as well.
“I love you,” she whispers, feeling as shy as she had the first time she said it. She doesn’t know why. Miorine pulls away and presses a kiss to her cheek.
“I love you, too,” she says, and then she’s standing up, smoothing the blanket over Suletta’s arms once more. “Are you comfortable?” Suletta nods, and Miorine smiles, cupping her face in her hands to kiss her forehead.
“Good night, then,” she murmurs. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She turns to go.
“Um, Miorine. Wait.” Miorine turns back around. Suletta’s face is on fire; she can feel it all the way down to her collarbone. Miorine takes in her appearance, wordless confusion evident on her face. Suletta takes a deep breath. She has to be more honest about what she wants— she’d decided it when she left Asticassia, and she’s getting better at it, but this is a hard ask.
Mostly because it feels so unromantic.
She wishes she could fidget with her fingers. But she also needs to look Miorine in the eyes, so she does. “Is it okay… if I kiss you?”
Her face has softened somewhat— Suletta always is a blushing mess when Miorine kisses her, or vice versa. Miorine walks back to her bedside, tipping her face toward Suletta’s to offer her her cheek. It’s not right, though— she’s misunderstood. Suletta feels as if she could spontaneously combust.
“On the lips,” she says, very quietly.
A second passes. Miorine’s face is frozen before hers, and then she actually blushes. Miorine Rembran, of all people, is embarrassed. She’s not used to this. She feels a little bad.
“We don’t have to—”
“No,” Miorine interjects quickly. She clears her throat. “I want to. I… wasn’t expecting that.” She takes a deep breath. Her skin has returned to its normal color, and she pushes the bedrail down once more, stooping in Suletta’s direction. One of her hands wraps around Suletta’s, the other coming up to hover around her shoulders. As Suletta looks at her face, she can see the telltale signs of self-consciousness there, even if it’s no longer red. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, and her eyes dart away from Suletta’s when they meet. This is new territory, for the both of them.
“Um.” Miorine is tongue-tied. “Do you want me to… lean you forward?”
“It’s okay,” Suletta mumbles. She’s just as embarrassed, her stomach full of butterflies. Miorine is very close. She is suddenly very glad that she’s already brushed her teeth, that she decided to do this before saying good night.
“Okay,” Miorine says softly, her fingers instead cupping Suletta’s jaw. They’re looking into each other’s eyes for a moment, Miorine’s a little hesitant, and then they close, her face coming even nearer. Suletta’s eyes close just before their lips touch.
Miorine’s lips are very warm, and soft. She thinks she tries too hard, at first— she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She relaxes the muscles of her jaw, and then it feels more natural. Miorine actually leans in further, but Suletta has to turn her face away, an awkward laugh escaping her lips. She’s run out of air.
Miorine laughs too, and then she presses a kiss to Suletta’s cheek. A feeling of warmth is seeping through her chest— has Miorine been waiting for this? Had she been too afraid to take this from Suletta?
She doesn’t mind giving it to her.
Miorine’s still near enough that she can kiss her again, and now they’re both laughing as their lips brush together, Miorine letting go of her face so she can steady herself on the bed. This time she’s the one to draw away, her head bent. She places another kiss there, and when Miorine looks up again, her face is scarlet.
“I love you,” she says softly, her hand reaching out to touch Suletta’s face. Suletta’s smile is big, and stupid, and it must be infectious, because Miorine is smiling, too, the one she’d so rarely gotten to see at school. She sits on the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around Suletta and burying her face in her chest.
She doesn’t want her to leave. In a perfect world, they would be going to Miorine’s room together, but Suletta still isn’t ready to be discharged yet. This isn’t as difficult to ask of her, although she still feels bad. Her bed is much more comfortable than is the recliner.
“Do you want to stay tonight?”
“Yes,” Miorine answers immediately, and Suletta laughs again. She feels very giddy; it's like her facial muscles are frozen in place.
“I’d better get off your bed, though, before the nurse comes in and yells at me.”
“I don’t think she was yelling—”
“It felt like it,” Miorine mutters, hopping off the bed and moving the bedrail back into place. She pulls the recliner close to Suletta’s side, taking her hand. She looks at her face. This is what she wants. To stay with her, to wake up beside her every morning. She thinks Miorine wants the same things, too.
“I hope I can leave soon,” Suletta murmurs. Her eyes have slid shut. She opens them back up with a little difficulty.
“Don’t rush it. Take all the time you need, Suletta.”
“I know, but… I want to be with you.”
“I’ll stay here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”
There are so many things she wants to say in response to that, so many things she wants to tell her. But she’s too tired. The last thing she sees before slipping into sleep is Miorine’s face, gazing affectionately at her.
-
“Do you want me to help you get ready for bed?” Miorine asks, pulling Suletta out of a light doze. She blinks and looks around at her, smiling slightly.
They’re curled up together, Miorine’s arms corded around one of hers, on the couch in her hospital room. They’d been watching an old documentary on Earth, and she must have fallen asleep somewhere around the arctic animals. She’s been given a discharge date, and this one hasn’t been pushed back— it’s two days away. Miorine has been counting down the days, preparing for Suletta to move into her room with her. They’d asked her where she was going to stay, with her mom or Miorine, and she had hesitated only briefly. She loves her mom, but she wants to be with Miorine for the time being, before they go to Earth.
Besides, she doesn’t think Prospera can take care of her, and this makes her a little nervous. Asking that of Miorine feels like a lot.
Miorine hasn’t said it in so many words, but she’s looking forward to it. She can tell, from the way she’s thrown herself into getting her room organized for the two of them, the soft look on her face when she talks about bringing her home. Her doctors are trying to find her practices on Earth to transfer to, but this is a little difficult— they’re still not sure where exactly they’ll be going. They’ve been doing a little research, but this is very cursory. They’re both more excited about the direct, immediate future to focus on it for too long.
“I think so. I’m tired,” she says.
Miorine helps her into her chair and wheels her in the direction of the bathroom. She’s helped the nurses give Suletta showers, but she hasn’t— exactly done much. Mostly just washed her hair for her. Suletta realizes, with rising trepidation, that she doesn’t intend to call the nurses tonight. She’d misinterpreted her question.
“Wait.”
Miorine turns from the shower, eyebrows pulling together at the look of panic on Suletta’s face. She turns the water off, coming to her side in a crouch so they’re on the same level.
“Do you not want me to give you a shower?”
Does she want Miorine to give her a shower? She… isn’t sure. It’d been fine when there were multiple people helping her— although being naked and surrounded by so many people had intensely embarrassed her— but Miorine doing it alone fills her with a strange sense of dread, her guts turning to ice. She’s overreacting. She needs to calm down.
“Suletta, talk to me,” Miorine says quietly. She reaches out to touch her face, but seems to think better of it, and this makes Suletta feel bad. She doesn’t want her to be afraid to touch her.
“It’s not you,” she begins, and then she winces at the inevitable followup. “It’s me.” Her face burns at the old cliché, and Miorine smiles a little.
“What is it?”
“I…” She clears her throat. She knows it’s not like that at all, but she can’t help her thoughts. “I don’t want you to see me naked like that and then never want to again.”
Silence greets her words. When she looks up at Miorine’s face, her eyes are a little wide, her mouth open in surprise. Suletta feels that burning sense of shame again; she’s sexualizing a situation that doesn’t warrant it. Miorine confirms this when she speaks.
“I’m not thinking about that when I help you bathe, Suletta.”
“I know you’re not,” Suletta says. She doesn’t either, not exactly— except to be disappointed that it’s like this. She hadn’t wanted this to be the way Miorine saw her naked for the first time. She’d had all these ideas… For the most part, she can separate the two, but if Miorine is the sole person bathing her, she doesn’t think she can.
Part of her worries, too, that Miorine never thinks of her that way. She’s never given any indication that she does. It’s fine if she doesn’t, but— Suletta is interested in that. She’d never been able to admit it to herself at Asticassia— the one time she’d thought of what comes after a marriage, she’d felt as if she were objectifying Miorine and had quickly shut it down— but being with her the past few months has made it very clear to her what she wants. If they’re going to be living together…
She’s so painfully aware of the light in which she views her now.
“Do you.” She stops, clearing her throat. She has to ask her. Having the hard conversations is part of being with someone else. She’s getting better at it. “Do you… ever think of me in that way?”
Miorine’s hand does touch her, now, lightly resting against her hair. Her eyes are sad when she looks at Suletta. “Do you think I’m not attracted to you?”
She doesn’t. She’s never felt desirable in her life, first on Mercury, and then at Asticassia. It was fine, until it wasn’t. Until she felt that Miorine truly didn’t want her, perhaps had never wanted her. She’s never felt like enough for anybody.
She knows Miorine loves her. She just doesn’t know if she’s attracted to her, and for some reason, that feels like the end of the world right now.
She blinks the tears away, and Miorine’s thumbs brush against her cheeks. She’s able to make eye contact with her, now, and Miorine’s face is still somber. “I am, Suletta. I do… want you that way.” Both of their faces are red now, but they don’t break eye contact. Their relationship feels stronger now than it ever did at school.
“But I’m not ready to have sex with you. That’s… that’s not why I invited you to live with me.”
“That’s not why I want to live with you either, Miorine.” She just knows… somewhere down the line, it could happen. She wants it to. But: “I’m not ready either.”
Miorine’s expression smooths out into a gentle smile. Warm relief washes over Suletta, so powerful she would tremble with it if she could. Her hands do, just slightly; she’s started being able to move her fingers, her fingertips pressing against Miorine’s whenever they hold hands. Miorine never tires of it, always giving her a gentle squeeze back.
She needs to be more honest with her. They’re going to be living together— someday, they’re even going to be married. She needs to let her know how she feels, not just about the inconsequential things, like what she wants for dinner or whether she wants socks on before she goes to bed. These things she’s gotten better at communicating, after going so long afraid to ask for things. It’s the harder topics that she still struggles with. She always feels so much better after she does, though.
A strand of hair is tucked behind her ear, Miorine smoothing the rest out with it. Her other hand has gone to Suletta’s, and her fingers fill in the gaps between hers, as if they were meant to be there. Suletta presses her thumb lightly against Miorine’s hand.
“Why would you think I don’t find you attractive?”
“I don’t know.” This is something hard to put into words. It’s just always been the feeling she’s gotten— she’s so tall, her movements graceless and uncoordinated, her general personality grating. She hadn’t fit in much on Mercury, and then of course her classmates at Asticassia had found her bothersome. She’d never felt that way with Miorine, though, despite her calling her annoying. She’d never sent Suletta away, not really; she pushed her away from her while reaching out to pull her closer with the opposite hand.
“It’s me,” she says again, quietly. “I’ve always felt this way. I’ve never felt… wanted.” But things have changed since they first met. She’s wheelchair-bound now, unable to even move her arms. She can’t pull her out of the depths of space, or fight to protect her from the people wanting to cause her harm. If Miorine is attracted to her… is that why? Is she still attracted to her as she is now?
As she may always be, from here on out?
“You’re pretty, Suletta,” Miorine says quietly. Suletta looks up in surprise. “But that’s not the reason I fell in love with you. I think… even if you weren’t… I would still be attracted to you because of who you are. That’s why I love you. That’s what matters the most to me.”
She hadn’t really fallen in love with Miorine, either, until she’d seen a little more of how she actually is. Not the front she presented to the rest of the school, and even her father, but the true her, the one she so rarely allowed to come out. Even now, Miorine is reserved, but she’s more open with Suletta. All she’d ever wanted for her was for her to be able to be herself.
“I’ll go get the nurse,” Miorine says, standing.
“Wait.” Miorine turns back around. “If… if you really want to… I think I’d be okay if you gave me a shower.”
Miorine resumes her crouching posture, putting her arms on the handle of the chair and her chin on top of them. Her face is very serious. “I don’t want to give you a bath if you don’t want me to. I don’t want you to feel stressed out and anxious.”
“You don’t stress me out, Miorine. It was me. I’m… I’m worried,” she admits. “That we may never be able to do that, because of me.” There are so many things she’s afraid of, when it comes to this.
“We can go as slow as you need to, Suletta. It’s no rush.” She looks down. When her eyes return to Suletta’s, they’re concerned. “Are we moving too fast? I don’t want you to move in with me if it’s going to make you upset, if it’s too much for you…”
“No. No, I want to live with you.” Suletta’s voice is very earnest. “I’ve wanted it since before your birthday.” A shadow passes over Miorine’s face, but Suletta hurries on, stroking her hand with her thumb. She doesn’t want her to get bogged down in that again. They’ve already been over it. “I’m really excited to be moving in with you.”
“I’m excited to be living with you, Suletta,” says Miorine softly.
“And I do. Want you to help me, I mean,” Suletta says sincerely. Miorine relaxes at the sound of her voice. “I was just… overthinking it.”
“It’s okay to not want me to see you naked. It doesn’t upset me.”
“It wasn’t so much that,” Suletta says, “as it was…” She takes a deep breath. She needs to stop avoiding the word. Miorine’s frankness had been very welcome, made it less nerve-wracking to discuss. “The sex. The idea of it. I had… all these expectations, about moving in together, and now…” She looks down at her lap. She’s afraid she’ll never be able to touch Miorine in the way she wants. That’s what makes her so anxious. It’s fine if Miorine wants to touch her— in fact, more than fine— but if Suletta can never reciprocate…
She flexes her fingers. She’s making progress. The doctors try not to show it, but she can tell they’re amazed at her mobility already. The occupational and physical therapists are ecstatic, and this makes her feel warm. Everybody has been so kind to her while she’s been here. That includes Miorine.
“I’m glad we talked about it,” she tells her softly. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to keep things from you.”
Miorine touches her arm. “You’re not. What you’re going through… I can’t even begin to understand it, Suletta. I just want to be here for you, in whatever way you want me to be.”
She opens her hand and flexes her fingers; a wordless request. Miorine understands, sliding her own within Suletta’s. She looks down at their hands. She trusts Miorine.
For the first time, she wonders if Miorine doesn’t trust herself.
“I’d like to try,” she says. “I’ll let you know if I don’t want you to.”
“Okay. Okay,” Miorine says.
-
She towel dries Suletta’s hair afterward, her fiancée’s eyes already sliding shut with fatigue. She smiles a little at this. Suletta’s eyelids flutter back open.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice very warm. Miorine’s breath catches a little. “It was… nice. To be close to you like that. Without the expectations.”
Miorine touches her face. “Don’t put so much stress on yourself,” she says softly. Suletta smiles.
“I’m trying,” she says quietly. She must be exhausted; she really does fall asleep, and Miorine watches her face for a long while before slipping silently out of her room.
Miorine is trying, too.
The issue of sexual attraction when it comes to Suletta had never occurred to her, not even after she’d confessed to her that she loved her. It was only when she confronted Prospera, and she threw Miorine’s own words back at her, that she thought about it at all.
She doesn’t even remember what had called her attention to her hands, at first— she thinks they’d been in the greenhouse, Suletta trimming the leaves off flower clippings, and Miorine had just glanced over, intending to move her eyes away. Something had drawn them back. Suletta always treated the flowers so gently— so clumsy, but so careful, as if she didn’t want to harm them. Miorine found herself watching her movements. Her hands appeared strangely graceful in that moment, and Miorine thought she’d make a good piano player.
Then Suletta had looked up and caught her staring. She was so embarrassed, both by this and her being so transfixed in the first place, that she didn’t look at her the rest of the morning.
After this it was like she couldn’t stop noticing things about her. One morning Suletta had been running late, her hair still down when they met. It looked very pretty like that. Miorine was disappointed as she tied it back into her signature ponytail. Her eyes, too, are a nice color; deep blue and expressive, although she’s noticed that in the right light they can be greenish. One time she’d seen her bare arms, without the Holder uniform on, and that… had been different. Just like with her hands, her eyes kept coming back to them, even as Nika said something to her. She doesn’t even remember now what it was. Then she’d turned to Nika, and she’d been smiling at her in a way Miorine found she didn’t like.
So she knows she’s attracted to her. She just never thought she’d be attracted to anybody in the first place, because she’d never expected to enter into a marriage of her own free will, let alone have a bona fide romantic relationship. Her life hadn’t been her own, not to live for herself or share with somebody else.
But now it is.
She doesn’t even realize she’s heading in the direction of her room until she’s at the door. She hadn’t intended to leave Suletta until she’d done so. She just feels the sudden urge to be in motion, her nerves all jittery. Is this the way a normal teenager feels?
She sits on the edge of her bed— larger than she slept in to begin with. The thought of sharing it with Suletta suddenly makes her feel nervous and fluttery. She hadn’t had any expectations before this point, but—
None of the Holders had ever touched her before Suletta, but she’d seen it in their eyes— some of them. Others truly hadn’t been interested. But the ones who were thought her beautiful, thought they would like to marry her family name and money, and her into the bargain, because—
She hadn’t liked to think about the horrors inherent in the Holder system, precisely because she had been so determined she would never marry the Holder. Marriage led to children at some point, didn’t it? And if they were biologically able to produce children, then…
And even if it wasn’t to produce an heir, there still was the same problem: they wanted her. She didn’t want them, would have clawed their eyes out if they tried to touch her. But the fact remained that she would be married and in a very bad situation.
Suletta had been the first she ever felt she could drop her guard around. They’d had an ulterior motive when she and Miorine made their deal, and that had made their relationship more honest; she didn’t actually want to marry her, for any reason. Miorine hadn’t had to watch her back around her, waiting for her to either try to induce a romantic relationship with her or start abusing her on a power trip. Suletta had simply let her breathe for the first time since she became the Bride; their falling in love had been an accident, but it was always going to happen. When Suletta touched her… it didn’t make her feel nauseated. It made her heart quiver, the phantom warmth of Suletta’s hand remaining on her skin long after she’d let go of her. It made her want to touch her back.
But she wants Suletta to be able to breathe, too. They don’t have to speed through their relationship. There’s nothing to catch up on, except for the quieter moments they missed out on at school, when somebody was challenging her to a duel every week. They can do things slowly, on their own time. It belongs to them now.
Are they doing things all out of order? Most couples have probably slept together before they move in together; is that what’s troubling Suletta? But no, she said she’d been more worried that they may never be able to have sex because of her.
Miorine’s heart twists. Suletta’s never let on that her immobility bothers her— except to feel bad about Miorine’s helping her— but it’s such a sudden change, and Suletta had always been so active. She knows it must be weighing on her. Her sitting still at all, ever, was a feat in and of itself.
She wants to help her. She doesn’t want her to hide her worries from her, for any reason. This can’t work if they can’t be honest with each other, and Miorine wants to show her the parts of herself she’s never shown anybody before. She doesn’t want Suletta to feel like she has to shoulder all her burdens herself.
Miorine rolls over on the bed, reaching out to touch the fleece blanket she’d bought her. It made her feel a little silly, but in a good way. She’d known Suletta would love it as soon as she laid eyes on it— it has multicolored bears and hearts printed on a pink background. She’d thought of bringing it to her hospital room, but didn’t it make a better homecoming present?
She just wants to hold her at night, without a nurse coming by to fuss at her for having the bedrail down or without a monitor going off, the IV pump beeping because the line has gotten twisted up between their hands. All the rest can come later.
-
They’re lying in bed together, not quite touching. Miorine is on her side, facing Suletta, who’s on her back. She can’t tell if her eyes are open.
“Miorine,” she murmurs. So she is awake. She smiles, reaching out one hand to touch her shoulder. Suletta’s fingers twitch, and she moves her hand to hold hers.
Suletta had liked her blanket. She’d actually cried a little over it, and that had made Miorine teary as well. She’d cried on her birthday, too, when all their friends and her mother and sister had gathered around her bed to sing to her. Miorine inches closer to her, so that Suletta can see her face from her position on her back. They gaze at one another in silence for a moment, before Miorine leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. Then she kisses her on the lips, Suletta’s fingers tightening around hers. When she pulls away, her cheeks are wet.
“What’s wrong?” she whispers, brushing her tears away. Suletta shakes her head, a smile on her face.
“I’m really happy,” she whispers back, and Miorine feels so full of love for her in that moment.
“I am too.”
Suletta’s gazing at her face again, and then she’s saying, “Can I hold you?”
Miorine helps Suletta turn on her side, wrapping her arms around her waist. Then she lowers herself down so her face is pressed into the crook of her neck. Suletta tucks her underneath her chin, her fingers anchoring themselves in the fabric of her shirt.
“I didn’t… make you uncomfortable, did I? The other day,” Suletta asks. “I didn’t—”
“No,” Miorine interrupts. “No, Suletta, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I want you to be able to tell me stuff like that.”
“I want that for you, too.”
Miorine’s fingers tangle into her hair. “Let’s not rush this. We don’t have to do everything all at once, Suletta. There’s no timeline.”
Suletta’s fingers are knotting into her shirt. “I know. I think… I freaked myself out. I should have just talked to you, but… there’s so much.”
“I know. It’s okay. All I want is to be with you. Let’s just do things naturally for now.”
Suletta’s torso seems to sag beside her. She’s never asked anything of Miorine; she wants to return that feeling to her.
“But I do want to… someday,” Suletta says shyly.
“I do, too.” Miorine infuses as much earnestness as she can into her voice. Suletta is anxious about this; she has to know Miorine isn’t lying, that she does view her that way, even if she’s not ready to make their relationship physical— at least, not in that way. “We’ll get there in time.”
For a time, the only sound in their bedroom is their breathing, mingling together in the quiet. Miorine rubs her back. She’s starting to feel tired. They should probably rearrange themselves.
“Do you want me to lay you down on your back?”
“No, I want to stay like this, I think. Will you keep close to me?”
By way of answering, Miorine kisses her cheek. Then she crawls out of her arms, gently lowering her to her back so she can retrieve the pillows. These she places underneath her and up against her side so she’s propped up facing Miorine. That way once she falls asleep Suletta will still have something to support her. Then she pulls Suletta’s arms back around her, placing her head against her chest. Suletta kisses the top of her head.
“I always dreamed about this. When I was growing up.”
“I never used to think about this sort of thing. I never thought… I’d be with somebody I love. Marriage was never something I aspired to.”
“I’m sorry it was like that for you,” Suletta whispers.
“It’s okay. I’m glad I got to meet you out of it, at least.” Suletta’s smile when she pulls away to look at her is very bright. Miorine kisses her— first on the cheek, then on the lips. Their kisses are never very long— she thinks Suletta would probably explode if they were. It’s sweet.
“I… could never really imagine who it was,” Suletta says after a while. “I think… I was too embarrassed. But I’m glad it’s you.”
Miorine rubs her back. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”
-
She can’t say which wakes her, the sound of the storm or the bright flash as lightning strikes the earth. All she knows is that one minute, she’s asleep, and the next, her eyes are squinting at the ceiling, the booming bass sound of the thunder practically shaking their room. It sounds like an explosion. In comparison, the steady tapping of the rain is much quieter. Suletta turns to look out the window before turning to Miorine.
“Miorine,” she whispers. “Are you awake?”
Miorine’s nose wrinkles. “Yes.”
She can’t help but laugh at her disgruntled tone; she reaches out to touch her side. Her arms are tingling a little. Her neuropathy always seems to act up when it rains like this, but—
“Let’s go outside.”
“…In the rain?”
“Yes!”
Miorine gazes at her for a long moment before her face settles into a smile.
They ride the elevator down— they’d purposely chosen this complex because it has an elevator at all. Some of the nearby places don’t. They’re very old buildings, considered historical, and so the landlords hadn’t wanted to install elevators in them. Miorine seems to be more perturbed by this than she and Prospera are.
They’ve been on Earth eight months now, after another month of living on the station together. They’re still not married— Suletta’s not sure when that will be. She wants to marry her, she loves her, but…
Miorine wheels her out underneath the awning that covers the front entrance. There’s a little patio out here, with flowerbeds and even a fountain. It’s a nice place, Suletta thinks, but someday she wants to move somewhere else with her. There are so many things she wants to give her.
The sky is dark— it’s two in the morning— but the lightning illuminates iron gray storm clouds, hanging low above them. She can’t see the stars right now, but she likes Earth’s sky. It’s so different from Mercury’s, where the planets are so close it felt like she could touch them if she just reached out. Mercury has no atmosphere. She’d liked to go out in her suit, sometimes, to look at the Earth’s moon— she never imagined she’d be able to do it from Earth itself.
They sit there in silence for a long moment. There are so many sounds on Earth— it’d taken her a couple months to get used to them, but then the season changed, and she had to learn new ones all over again. She enjoys all of them: the chattering and shrieking of the cicadas, the soft melodies of the birds when they wake early in the morning, the rustle of the wind in the leaves. Even the human sounds, like the hustle and bustle of traffic and, once, the neighbors arguing in the courtyard, are music to her ears. Earth is so alive, pulsing with all the sounds and energy of its inhabitants, both human and non-human. She takes pictures of the insects she comes across on their walks together; of the neighborhood cats that come to visit her, balancing precariously on their balcony railing. One time, she’d watched a boy throw a frisbee to his dog, the two of them on a hill with the sun setting behind them. Earth isn’t perfect— it’s still recovering from the climate crisis a few centuries ago; scientists argue over whether it ever can; at the very least, it will have lasting scars from climate change— but she loves it. She understands why Miorine had yearned for it for so long.
She and Earth are kind of similar, she realizes. In many respects.
Miorine rests her head on top of hers, and Suletta turns to look at her. Her smile is very content, despite the late (or is it early?) hour. Suletta grins back at her, and Miorine laughs.
“I like it here,” she says. It’s a very simple articulation of what she feels for Earth, but it will do.
Miorine understands her. She kisses the top of her head. “So do I.”
“Let’s go out there.”
Miorine’s expression is dubious. “…In the rain?”
“Yes! I don’t think it’s cold… it’s pretty humid.” The humidity is oppressive; it feels like a physical force bearing down on her when she leaves the house, hanging from her and causing sweat to bead up on her forehead within minutes.
Belatedly, she realizes they’re still in their pajamas. Maybe they shouldn’t… but then Miorine is shaking her head, a smile on her face, and they’re out from underneath their shelter, the warm rain falling first on her legs— she thinks she can almost feel it— and then her lap, until it’s soaking into her scalp, the thin fabric covering her shoulders; running in rivulets down her arms. She lets out a shout of laughter, and behind her she can hear Miorine’s own in response. Despite the violence of the thunder and lightning around it, the rain itself is very gentle. It feels like a warm shower.
“I like the weather,” Suletta says after a period of silence. They’re soaked, now, but Miorine seems to be in no hurry to go back inside. “I’d never experienced it before Asticassia, but… that wasn’t real.”
“What was growing up on Mercury like?”
She turns to her in surprise. She’s told her a lot about her childhood— she’s not sure which aspect she’s asking about now. Sensing this, Miorine says, “Did you really like it there? Do you ever want to go back?”
Suletta looks up at the sky. She loves Mercury, but— “No. Not to stay. It’s… it’s a hard place to live. It’s why so many people leave.”
“You’re trying to change that, though,” Miorine says softly. “Your school… I’m sure it will help them.”
It’s what she’d wanted, growing up. To give her good fortune back to the people she lived alongside. She can’t help with the mines, now— besides, Aerial is gone— but the school is at least able to educate them and give them options outside of Mercury. It makes her sad to think that it might one day be barren, that everybody may wind up leaving altogether, but… if that’s what they want, she thinks they should be able to. Or maybe they’ll be able to build a thriving community, instead of the small settlements set up around the mines. Maybe they can move toward a different economy, one not so reliant on Permet mining, dangerous as it is. She hopes that’s the case. Growing up on Mercury had truly shaped her into the person she is today— she doesn’t think she’d be the same if she hadn’t lived there as a child. But she doesn’t think she was meant to live there her whole life, either.
“I hope so,” she says at last.
“I’d like to go with you, sometime. I want to see where you grew up.”
Suletta tilts her head back so Miorine can see the smile on her face. Her answering smile is very soft. She keeps her head craned back, and Miorine knows what she’s asking. She leans down, putting one hand on her face as she kisses her. It’s a little awkward— they wind up laughing when Miorine’s chin has nowhere to go but pressed against her nostrils, but she kisses her again before placing a kiss on her nose. Miorine’s hand comes to a rest on her shoulder, and she reaches one hand up to sit on top of it.
She loves it here.
-
They track rainwater all through the building, up to their front door and into the foyer there. Miorine wheels Suletta into their bedroom before returning to mop up the water in the entryway.
When she gets back to their room, Suletta is trying to wrest herself free of her soaking wet shirt. She has better control of her arms, now, but she still gets tired. Some days are better than others. She’s already dried her hair with the towel Miorine had brought her before going to clean up. Miorine approaches the bed.
“Want some help?”
Suletta nods, tucking her arms inside her shirt. They’ve gotten better at this, as time has gone on. Miorine peels the sopping wet shirt off her, wrapping the towel around her body and beginning to dry her off. Suletta lifts her legs out of her pants, leaving them on the floor.
“Do you need help dressing?”
Suletta is shivering; the water combined with the cold air of the apartment is chilling her to the bone. Even Miorine can feel it. She wraps the towel more securely around her. Maybe they should take a bath… but looking at Suletta, she can tell she’s ready to go back to bed. That’s okay. She’ll keep her warm enough. She just has to get out of her own wet things, first.
“No, I think I’ve got it.”
“I’ll be right back, then.”
After getting them both a change of clothes, Miorine shucks off her old pajamas, taking them to the kitchen. She’s not going to run the washing machine overnight— she has to do laundry in the morning, anyway. Suletta likes to help her, holding the basket for her as she unloads the dryer. She’s even been able to start folding it, sometimes, when her arms aren’t hurting her too much and she isn’t tired. In turn, Miorine likes to watch her; it makes her so happy, being able to do the smallest things, the things most people take for granted.
Returning to their room, she can see Suletta already dressed, back pressed flat against the mattress. She smiles a little before coming to her; her eyes are closed.
“Did you fall asleep?”
Suletta’s voice is sleepy when she replies. “Not yet.”
Miorine helps her get underneath the covers, wrapping her in a blanket before getting in on her side. As soon as she’s underneath, she comes closer to Suletta, who’s burrowed into the blanket so it’s over her head. Two blue eyes open in the small window showing her face, and Miorine laughs. They crinkle at the edges.
“I was going to hold you—”
“You still can.” Suletta starts unwinding the blanket, but one of the edges is caught beneath her. She rolls halfway into Miorine, who supports her with one arm while fishing the blanket out from underneath her, and then Suletta is passing the blanket to her. Miorine takes it on herself to draw even nearer, pulling the blanket over both of their heads. Then she helps Suletta wrap her arms around her waist, and Suletta presses her cheek to her forehead. Her hair is still damp.
“Thank you.”
Miorine hums. It’s very warm, under the blanket. It’s late summer, but it’s still so hot. She knows her sleeping up against Suletta bothers her, makes her sweat, but she can’t help it. The one time she’d suggested building a wall of pillows between them, Suletta had protested so strongly she’s never brought it up again.
“This feels like a sleepover.”
She can’t keep the amusement out of her voice. “Suletta, we sleep together every night.”
“I know… but you know what I mean.”
She does. She’s in love with her, has been for quite a while now, but she’d never expected love to be so… freeing. She feels like she can be herself around Suletta, and she won’t ever judge her for it. She accepts her as she is, and for who she wants to be. And she enjoys her company; she always had, when they were at school, but it’s different now, without others’ expectations hanging over them, everybody’s eyes on them. Suletta is her best friend.
She slips one hand underneath her shirt, pressing her cold fingers against her back. Suletta gives a sharp intake of breath between her teeth, and Miorine laughs while at the same time withdrawing her hand.
“You don’t have to,” Suletta says quietly. “I was just surprised.”
This time she places both hands against her back, and Suletta laughs at her contrary nature. She buries her face in her chest, holding her tighter.
She thinks Suletta is actually asleep when she says, “Miorine.”
“Yes?”
“Is it okay if I…” She waits. Sometimes Suletta will illustrate just what exactly she’s wanting to do, waiting for confirmation before fully committing to the act. This time, she doesn’t.
“What is it?”
Suletta’s hands hesitantly come around to her front, before one goes beneath the hem of her own shirt. Miorine is a little nonplussed as it ghosts over her ribcage, and then she flushes when it comes to a halt over her sternum, her fingers curling involuntarily against Suletta’s back. It’s very warm. Suletta’s hand hovers there, barely touching her skin, a live wire against her flesh, and Miorine loosens her hold on her, bringing her hands up to press Suletta’s hand against her breastbone.
“It’s okay,” she says quietly.
They haven’t had sex yet. Miorine feels more ready for it than she had when Suletta first brought it up, back in the hospital. She just hadn’t wanted to try to cram the major milestones of their relationship in so fast, hadn’t wanted Suletta to feel like everything needed to be done at once. They’d barely gotten the chance to explore their relationship at Asticassia.
She doesn’t think Suletta is ready yet, though.
She can wait. She wants to be as close to her as possible, but not at the expense of Suletta’s comfort. They can take things as slow as she wants. She’s in no hurry.
Even their engagement is shaping up to be a long one. This strikes her as a little strange— Suletta had been so eager to marry her before her seventeenth birthday, but now she doesn’t mention it much, except in the tone of a far-off fantasy. Miorine is willing to wait, but she worries that Suletta is putting it off not because she wants to, but because she feels she has to.
Suletta’s other hand has come up to rest beside her right; Miorine’s body is abuzz with electricity. She moves to kiss her— but they’re not quite on the same level, the way they’re positioned right now. She winds up kissing her neck, her lips brushing against the pulse point there. After a second’s hesitation, they return. Suletta’s heartbeat is erratic beneath her touch. She follows the line of her neck up, leaving a trail of soft kisses there— none of their kisses are ever open; this is probably for the best— her mouth returning to her pulse point, fluttering beneath her lips. Suletta’s hands haven’t strayed from her torso; they remain firmly planted below her breasts, her thumbs lightly caressing the ticklish skin of her stomach. Miorine pulls away.
No, she’s not yet ready. That’s okay. She opens her mouth to tell her good night, but the blankets are rustling around her, and Suletta’s leaning forward to kiss her.
She misses the mark— she’s having the same problem Miorine is, away from ambient light; she can’t tell where her mouth is. She kisses her chin instead, and Miorine’s mouth curves into a smile that makes it that much more difficult for her to kiss her when her lips find it. Suletta laughs, kissing the corner of her mouth and then her cheek. She then kisses the line of her jaw, which is new territory for her, before laying her cheek against Miorine’s. Miorine wraps her arms around her to stroke her hair.
“I’m still not ready.”
“I know,” Miorine whispers. She loops a strand of her hair around her index finger before saying, “I wasn’t making you uncomfortable, was I?”
Suletta’s voice is genuinely perplexed when she says, “No. I— liked it. A lot.” Her face is probably on fire. Miorine rubs her back. “Um. You can kiss me like that whenever you want.”
Miorine bursts into laughter at this, hiding her face in Suletta’s collarbone. Then she kisses her there, long and hard. It's still pretty chaste, though— she doesn’t want to give Suletta a heart attack. She pulls away and buries her face back in her neck.
She thinks of their engagement again. She understands why Suletta doesn’t want to have sex with her— but she hopes that reasoning isn’t extending to their marriage as well.
“You know I love you,” she murmurs, “just as you are. Right?”
For a time, all she can hear is the tapping of the rain, Suletta’s soft breathing. Perhaps she has fallen asleep. But then she says, “I love you, too, Miorine.”
“And you know I want to marry you and stay with you.”
There’s a pause. “Forever, right?”
Miorine smiles. “Right.”
-
Miorine is at work when Suletta returns from physical therapy; she comes home later in the evening, after she and her mother have eaten dinner. Prospera has already retired to her room for the night, taking Eri with her. Sometimes Eri will sleep in her and Miorine’s room, but she’s stopped doing it as much lately. Suletta gets the feeling she and their mother have had some sort of conversation about this.
She sits at the table with her as she eats, and then she follows her into their bedroom. Miorine is just beginning to get undressed from her dress clothes, unbuttoning the top of her blouse.
“When you’re done, I want to show you something,” Suletta says, excitement brimming under the surface of her words. Miorine pauses, looking to her with a smile. Then she sits on the edge of their bed, folding her hands in her lap expectantly.
She’s been working on walking in physical therapy. She’s able to move with the bars they have set up there— she doesn’t think she can move without them yet, but… there’s something else she wants to show her wife. Whenever Miorine asks her what she’s working on in therapy, she backdates it a little. She’s wanted to give her a demonstration when she lets her know what she’s been working on, and she finally feels confident enough, after today, to do so.
She stands on shaking legs; her leg muscles have atrophied in the past two years of not being able to use them, and despite the physical therapists assigning her exercises to do in the meantime, they’re still weak. But she can work on that. She’s just ecstatic to be able to stand at all, even if it isn’t for long periods of time, even if it never will be. She knows her mobility is never going to be what it once was. She’s reconciled with that.
Her excitement must show on her face, because Miorine’s mouth is curving into a smile. Suletta beams back at her.
“When did this happen?” Miorine’s voice is a little amazed.
“…A couple weeks ago,” Suletta confesses, a sheepish smile on her face. Miorine isn’t upset. “I wanted to wait to show you, because I— I was so excited. I wanted to surprise you.”
Miorine’s blinking tears back, and she knows it’s because she’s thrilled for her. Miorine knows how long she’s wanted this; she’s been there with her every step of the way. “I’m so happy for you—” Miorine begins, but Suletta’s strength is sapped. She doesn’t have much endurance yet, and she’d been exercising at therapy today, too. Her reserves are depleted. She casts her hand behind her for her chair, and Miorine half-rises from the bed.
“Suletta—”
She’s miscalculated; Suletta falls forward, not backward, into her wife’s outstretched arms. She lets out a little shriek as they fall to the mattress together, her knees knocking against Miorine’s. Miorine makes no sound other than the whump of all the air leaving her lungs as Suletta’s weight crashes into her. She winces, pulling back.
“I’m so sorry—” She stops. Miorine is laughing.
It takes Suletta only a second to begin laughing as well. She can more or less support her weight so she’s not fully lying on top of Miorine, although her abdominal muscles are becoming a little sore from the combination of laughter and exertion. When she reopens her eyes, it’s to find Miorine’s full of light, a soft smile on her lips as she reaches for Suletta’s face.
“It’s been a while,” she murmurs, her fingertips sliding into Suletta’s hair, one of her thumbs touching the corner of her mouth. Suletta’s answering smile is just as warm. She thinks to agree with her, but she’d rather kiss her, and she does so, leaning down to press her lips to Miorine’s.
It’s meant to be just a brief kiss, suffused with the love she feels for her, and it is, but— her mouth lingers. Five seconds pass, then ten, and then she loses count. When they part for air, her mouth goes up to press a kiss to Miorine’s temple, and then lower, on her cheek and jaw, ghosting down her neck until she’s kissing the exposed skin of her chest. She only becomes aware of the fact that they’re holding hands when Miorine’s fingers tighten around hers. She pulls away, her heart in her throat.
“You don’t have to stop,” Miorine says quietly. Her face is bright red, and Suletta knows her own must be flaming. Her legs feel a little weak at the knees, accompanying the pins and needles sensation she’s grown accustomed to since she began feeling anything at all in them again. She hesitates. Her abdomen really is beginning to kill her now. Miorine reads the look on her face and smiles gently.
“It’s okay. Let’s go to sleep.” She begins to unwind her fingers from Suletta’s.
“No!” Suletta says adamantly, shaking her head. “I want to, I’m just—”
She’s so nervous. It’s the feeling she’d first had when she met Miorine. She’d thought it was normal to be so flustered upon seeing such a pretty girl, and it is, but it’s not an experience every other woman has when she sees another woman. She’d always thought other girls pretty, flipping through the pages of glossy magazines her mother occasionally brought her or scrolling through photos online. She just hadn’t recognized her admiration for what it was, at the time. Even with Miorine, she hadn’t understood her attraction until long after the fact, even though she’d held her breath after winning the first duel. She didn’t know what to expect. Two girls couldn’t get married, so even if she won…
But Miorine had confirmed that two women could indeed be wed, that it in fact happened all the time, and Suletta had been sent into a tailspin.
She’s seen Miorine naked plenty of times since the first time she bathed her; it’s a given, when you live with another person and share a bed with them, when you’re married and in love. They’ve actually taken baths together, her washing Miorine’s back or her hair, and they’ve kissed undressed— but it doesn’t ever really go beyond kissing. She’s never really touched her much beyond her chest, not to mention below her waist. She has a general idea of what to do. It’s the putting it into motion that scares her.
Miorine’s stomach muscles are fluttering beneath her own. Suletta suddenly collapses, burying her face into the mattress to the side of Miorine’s. She lets out a muffled laugh at this, her arms going around Suletta’s upper body. Suletta turns her head to speak into her ear.
“I do want to. I’m nervous, though.”
Miorine rubs her back. “So am I,” she whispers back. “But we can wait. It really doesn’t have to be now, Suletta.”
“I…” Her throat is dry. Be honest, be honest, she chides herself. “I’m tired of waiting, Miorine.”
One of Miorine’s arms goes out from around her, and Suletta draws back in surprise. She’s thrown it over her eyes, her cheeks below it incredibly red. Suletta’s laugh is startled. She comes to a sitting position beside her, and Miorine removes her arm and looks at her. Her face is shier and more tentative than Suletta has ever seen it. She feels a surge of love for her, her chest all fluttery. She just— wants to kiss her again. She puts her hand lightly on top of hers.
“I only want to if you want to, though. If you want to wait—”
Miorine shakes her head, sitting up quickly. She shakes her head again, as if she were kind of muddled, and then turns to the other side of the bed, crawling up to the head. Suletta watches her curiously. Miorine hesitantly begins pulling the bedspread back before stopping, one hand going to her chin.
“Um.” She really does sound out of sorts. It’s very uncharacteristic for her. She feels that familiar rush of affection she gets whenever she sees her like this. “Are we… supposed to get in the bed?”
Suletta blinks in surprise before bursting into laughter, so overcome with it that she falls back to the mattress, hands going over her face. Maybe it’s not that funny, but she’s so full of adrenaline right now. She feels almost as if she were drunk, even though she’s never tried alcohol before. The smell bothers her.
“Hey.” A gentle finger pokes her in the ribs. Suletta cracks her fingers open, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Don’t laugh at me.” Miorine’s lips are twitching upwards too, though. She reaches one hand out to wipe her cheeks, and one of Suletta’s hands covers it. She holds her arms out to her, and Miorine lowers herself down, into her embrace.
They look into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and then Suletta smiles. It’s a little shy— she feels the same way Miorine does. That’s what makes her happy; at least they’re both hesitant, but for all the right reasons. More and more often, they’re on the same page, and if they’re not, at least they can explain themselves to one another.
She knows she’s waited for this for a long time. At first because she wanted to ease into their relationship, and then because Suletta wasn’t ready. It hadn’t been part of her plan for this evening, not really, but since the opportunity has presented itself…
“I love you,” she says, leaning closer to Miorine. Her face hovers beside hers. They’re both on their sides, Suletta’s arms wrapped around her waist. Miorine’s warm breath passes over her skin as she exhales, and then she’s coming closer, too.
“I love you, Suletta,” she says, and then she’s not sure who starts it— maybe they meet each other halfway. It’s just that they’re kissing again, a different type of kiss from normal, and then her lips are brushing down Miorine’s neck, her hands reaching up to continue unbuttoning her shirt. Her hands are shaking a little, and Miorine’s reach up to steady them, guiding them through the buttons. “It’s okay,” Miorine says, kissing her again. Suletta draws her closer against herself once her shirt is off. Her mouth is more insistent than it’s ever been, and she pulls back a little. Is she going to hurt her? Miorine shakes her head, looping her arms around her neck to pull her back down. This makes Suletta laugh, and she can feel the curve of Miorine’s mouth beneath her own as their lips meet again.
Then she’s lifting Suletta’s shirt over her head, or trying to— somehow she’s gotten tangled up in it, and this sets them both to giggling again. She’s still a little anxious, but it’s in a good way, the butterflies in her stomach the same as when she’d kissed her the first time. She’d never imagined that this could be fun. She knows it’s because she’s with Miorine, because she feels so comfortable with her. She knows she’s not going to reject her, or laugh at her. She’s laughing with her. She loves her.
Her shirt is off now, and a still-laughing Suletta reaches out to take her wife’s face in her hands, pressing a kiss to her cheek, her jaw. Then her lips, over and over again.
-
She wakes in Miorine’s arms, blinking blearily. She doesn’t even remember falling asleep. She rubs her eyes, turning to look at her wife. It’s hard to see, in the dark, but it looks like her own eyes are open. She reaches out, brushing a hand along her side, and Miorine shivers.
It’s redundant, but she asks anyway. “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” Miorine says, turning around and pressing her front against Suletta’s, arms winding around her back. Suletta’s face burns, which is stupid after everything that’s just happened, but they’re both still naked. Much like Miorine’s displays of affection, she’s sure this will take some time for her to get used to. She places a kiss on her shoulder before hiding her face in Miorine’s neck. She doesn’t notice the moisture leaking from her eyes until Miorine does.
“Are you crying?” Miorine’s hands reach up to cradle Suletta’s face. Suletta laughs, and the wrinkles on Miorine’s forehead smooth out.
“I’m just— really happy.” She’d never thought she’d be able to be close to her like this, that they would be living together in peace. It’s what she’d wanted, for so long, but she’d kept it locked away after Miorine’s seventeenth birthday, until it became such a physical force that she could no longer ignore it. After everything that had happened, both at Asticassia and on Earth, she needed to tell her. She couldn’t let something happen to either of them without letting her know how she felt, even if Miorine didn’t want her back. Her confession couldn’t be predicated on it being mutual, even though she wanted so badly for her to love her, too, her body practically burning with it. She needed to be honest, for once, and not ignore her own wants.
Miorine’s eyes look a little wet when they meet. Suletta reaches up to run her thumb underneath them, to catch the tears falling there. Then she kisses her on the forehead, bringing their faces close together so their noses are touching. “I love you so much,” she breathes. It never feels like enough, when she says it— she can’t explain to her just how happy she makes her, the feeling flowing through her body, from the tips of her fingers to her toes. She tries to get it out in the best way she can, but often it’s simply by telling her. She knows Miorine understands, though. They feel the same way.
“I love you, too,” Miorine says, and then they’re kissing again. She pulls away and asks, “Do you want to take a bath?”
Suletta’s smile is skeptical. “It’s the middle of the night.”
Miorine shrugs. “I don’t think we’re going to wake anyone.” Prospera’s room is nowhere near the wall that their bathroom shares with the rest of the apartment; in fact, it’s clear across the apartment, the living room and kitchen between the two of them and her mom. Suletta suddenly realizes this was probably very intentional on her mother’s part. Her face is a little red again, but she’s thankful to her mother for all she’s done— for allowing Miorine into their family, for giving them space to be together. She knows now that they hadn’t gotten along at the offset; they’d both just done a good job of hiding it from her. Now, she thinks they actually enjoy spending time together, in their own way.
Besides, she’d like to spend more time being close to her wife. “Okay."
Miorine rolls out of the bed, not even bothering to put on a robe. “I’ll bring your chair.”
“Actually…” Miorine stops, turning to look at her. “I’d like to try walking there.” Maybe she’s moving a little too fast, but she has to keep trying, even when she’s not at therapy. She’ll never build her strength up otherwise. Miorine’s eyes soften.
“I can help you,” she says, “if you need me to.”
“Okay!” Suletta grins. Miorine is very supportive. Just being by her side has made her recovery process easier. So many people have been cheering her on the past few years— from Miorine, to her mother and sister, to their friends, to the therapists she sees. She’s so grateful for all of them, that she was able to meet them at all.
She rolls over, trying to bring herself to a sitting position at the edge of the bed without using her arms, the way they’ve been working on since the start. Then she stands using the same principle. This is a little trickier, but after a brief pause, she’s able to do so. She doesn’t know that she can walk forward on her own, though. She’s not frustrated, but she is disappointed. She takes a deep breath, allowing herself to feel the emotion before letting go of it. It’s not all going to happen at once— even her relationship with Miorine has built slowly, and sometimes happened out of order, the way things are “supposed” to. It’ll be okay. She’ll get there in time.
“Just let me know what you need from me,” Miorine murmurs, arms outstretched in her direction. Suletta reaches for one of her hands, and Miorine slides her arm around her waist, taking Suletta’s hand in the other. Suletta’s own arm goes around her shoulders, and she’s able to walk forward with her like this. It’s kind of like walking with the bars at physical therapy.
“I could walk like this, I think,” she muses. She’s talking half to herself. “Maybe… with crutches?”
“That could work,” Miorine says softly. They’re in the bathroom, now, and Miorine helps her sit on the edge of the tub. Up until she was able to move her legs again, she’d been taking showers in their walk-in shower, sitting on a shower stool to do so. It’s been nice to take a bath again— she hadn’t realized how much she’d miss it when they first started living here, and she’d thought the shower would be fine. She’ll have to ask her mother what she thinks; the next place they live, she wants her to be able to take a bath as well, if she wants.
When the water is high enough, Miorine steps in, helping Suletta get in the tub and sitting down beside her. She leans her head against her wife’s shoulder. The water is warm. She might fall asleep again.
“Don’t fall asleep yet,” Miorine murmurs, running a warm washcloth over her face. Suletta wraps her arms around her waist, kissing her shoulder. Miorine sighs, and she can hear the amusement in it, practically echoing in the small space, warming her heart.
-
Suletta does fall asleep in the bath. Miorine washes her hair for her, and then she leans back and falls asleep within seconds, head tilted upward toward the ceiling. Miorine rinses her own hair, shaking her head and laughing to herself.
They dress quickly, sliding under the covers. Suletta is reaching for her before she’s even fully on the mattress, and they wrap their arms around each other, legs tangling together. Her hands go underneath Miorine’s shirt, pressing against the planes of her back.
She’s nearly asleep when Suletta whispers her name.
“Hmm?”
“We should go to the seaside sometime. As a honeymoon? But… oh. I guess my wheelchair probably couldn’t make it over the sand.”
Miorine pulls away. Suletta is practically asleep herself. She keeps strange hours, sometimes. She’ll fall asleep in the middle of the day and then wake during the night, when everyone else is asleep. She tries to stay up, but Miorine encourages her to take naps when she feels like it. Her body is still recovering; she should let it rest as much as she needs to.
“There might be wheelchairs for that. We can look into it.” Suletta hums, a small smile on her face that gives rise to a similar one on Miorine’s. “We could go to the mountains in the meantime. If you want. To the hot springs.”
Suletta’s eyes have been closed this whole time, but now they’re open wide with excitement. Miorine ducks her head, the answering smile on her face just as bright. Suletta’s hands come up in front of her, palms out, and Miorine places her own against them, their fingers wrapping around one another’s.
She’s wide awake now, mulling over Miorine’s idea. “That would be fun! One of my therapists said there are special healing ones— I don’t know if it really works that way—”
Maybe not. But like Suletta said, it would be fun. It doesn’t have to have any purpose beyond that.
A frown crosses her features. “I wonder if I can tolerate the heat, though. Sometimes…” Miorine knows what she’s referring to. Certain sensations are more pronounced for her, now, than they were before, while others don’t elicit quite the same response.
“We can go to one that’s more like a warm bath,” she says. “We can do some research.”
Suletta nods eagerly, fingers flexing around Miorine’s hands briefly. “We should go up to the mountains next fall, too. I want to look at the leaves when they change.”
She needs to get her driver’s license. She can’t rely on Maisie and Ireesha constantly driving them around; in some instances, it feels a little like double dating, and she doesn’t actually mind this, but she’d rather do certain things alone with Suletta, too.
“And we could take the train! I wonder if my mom would want to go, though…”
“We can ask her.” Prospera is a bit of a homebody. Miorine thinks it comes from a lifetime spent securing her daughter’s future, at the cost of all else. Now that she’s finally allowed herself to rest, she seems content to spend her time quietly, reading books or doing puzzles with Suletta.
“Eri can come if she wants.” Miorine stifles a laugh. She knows her sister-in-law will want to come, regardless. She finds Earth just as fascinating as Suletta, although she prefers the liveliness of the city. “But the hot springs… that should be just us.”
Miorine doesn’t reply, other than to rub her thumb across Suletta’s hand and place her head against her chest. She listens to the vibrations of her wife’s words within the hollow of her chest, responding in kind with her own, until they both fall asleep.