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You’ve always been hardheaded. Usually it’s infuriating. Sometimes it’s charming. Muelsyse spoke in her lighthearted way as she paced in front of the door Saria needed to get through. When Muelsyse stopped her restless movement she faced Saria, lacing her hands behind her back, and standing on her toes before her boots touched the floor again. I know you’re going to be a pain about this. But I really am grateful for that hard head of yours tonight. She smiled, beautiful and sad.
Saria suspected the Director of Ecology would prove a bigger headache than the bullet that slammed into her temple hours ago. Get out of my way, Muelsyse.
No can do, her smile shifted, apologetic now. Let’s end things on a good note, all right? This isn’t the kind of dance I wanted to have with you, so be a good girl and walk away.
Saria walked closer, her hands balling into fists. Condescension flowed too easily from her lips. Saria vowed to not be distracted. She was grateful to the cold, alien ambiance of the ship, familiar and discomfiting enough to not be tugged into one of Muelsyse’s asides. Get out of my way, Saria repeated.
Muelsyse’s features drooped, disappointed. Why does it always have to be the hard way with you?
I’m hardheaded.
Muelsyse laughed gently. Her eyes glistened, but she smiled once more. She was radiant. It took Saria a few moments to realize her boots and legs were wet. The room was filling with water at an alarming rate. Who are you to put an end to someone’s dream? The sadness was washing away, replaced with defiance. I won’t allow it. Not even you.
The water flowed faster. At this rate, Muelsyse could drown her in minutes. Saria thought her former role as the Director of Defense meant she was ready for any attack. She realized then that she never prepared herself for Muelsyse. The woman was silly, sometimes prone to emotional displays, but she rarely frowned. Saria hadn’t thought the elf capable of looking at her with anything other than bemusement or interest. Her eyes were always soft.
She’d thought Muelsyse much the same. Soft. Dedicated. Loyal. But maybe that loyalty was never to her. Perhaps it only ever served Rhine Lab and Kristen.
It’s not too late to change your mind, Muelsyse said but her tone was resigned, as if she were only going through the routine rather believing there could be any other outcome.
Saria considered redirecting the comment back to Muelsyse but decided against it. She rooted herself, the calcification settling over her like an exoskeleton. The water was up to her knees now but she powered through it, slower than she would have liked, but faster than Muelsyse anticipated.
It wouldn’t do to lose the advantage. Saria took a breath, her fist shooting through the air. If Muelsyse didn’t move it would go through her. If she did, the force behind the blow would topple the door.
Her fist stopped short of Muelsyse’s face, her bangs blowing gently with the ferocity which Saria attacked. Her eyes widened. Shock? They were still wide when Saria realized some foolish sympathy hadn’t saved Muelsyse. Water wrapped around Saria’s arm, like a vine, stopping her assault.
Saria looked at the water, churning and flowing and tried to rip free. The water squeezed like a vise. She rarely let anyone hurt her. Not physically. It was always fresh. She was untested. Saria grunted, her jaw hardening. If the pressure continued it would snap her arm.
Muelsyse stared at her with her sad face. Annoying. Saria’s other hand dropped to her side, releasing one of the grenades at her side. She popped the pin and dropped it without ceremony. The grenade sank to the bottom, and Saria was grateful that perhaps somewhere, some part of her had remained paranoid and untrusting. The pressure on her arm loosened.
A moment later a violent explosion of water swept her back several feet.
Saria panted, wiping the water from her eyes, pushing her hair back to see properly. The calcification sloughed away but Saria quickly raised it again.
Everything was quiet.
She scanned the room for Muelsyse but there was no sign of her. Had she scared her off? There was no time to linger. Saria went to the door. She grasped the handle but looked back.
The next moment she was lifted off her feet and slammed into the wall.
❖
A funeral is held. It’s a small gathering, closed to the press and limited to Rhine Lab directors. It’s mostly symbolic. Everyone wears black, save for Muelsyse. The others members look tired. They’re pale, eyes dark. Saria’s body aches. She hasn’t managed the healing necessary to make it as if it never happened. Parts of her are waiting for stitches to come out. Others are bandaged. Her fists still have the ghost sensation of being sanded by water.
She looks at Muelsyse who stares blankly at the empty coffin sinking into the ground. Muelsyse’s skin is flawless. Saria wonders if it’s even Muelsyse at the funeral, or if she’s sent a clone.
▽
Think of all the people in Trimounts who could be hurt if you help her go through with this! Saria shouted in the midst of their battle. The calcification wasn’t enough. It couldn’t withstand the fury of Muelsyse’s water. Calcified slivers pulled away from her, leaving bloody scratches and streams of red in the water as she desperately tried and failed to regenerate them. You know this is wrong!
Muelsyse answered, but Saria couldn’t hear her over the roar of the waves as they crashed over her, cutting off anything else she might say.
❖
The directors speak. Saria tunes them out, losing herself in memories. She’s alone when she escapes her thoughts. She glances at the gravestone but doesn’t allow her eyes to focus. She’s irritated at the pointless sentimentality. Kristen would find it ludicrous. What of those who were injured and killed during the incident? Rhine Lab should be attending those funerals. But their attorneys would never allow them to open themselves to liability.
She has a headache.
Frigid raindrops fall. There wasn’t a forecast for rain. Saria resists lifting her eyes. The sky looks odd since Kristen tore it open. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her long jacket and makes the long walk to the gate of the cemetery. She stills, not able to exit yet. The rain stops. She narrows her eyes, spotting her distorted reflection in the gleam of silver, the graceful fingers wrapped gently around the hilt of the umbrella. She follows the hand, the arm, to find Muelsyse standing just off to the side.
Saria steps past, back into the rain. Muelsyse walks alongside her, lifting the umbrella again to shield her. Saria steels her jaw.
“The silent treatment isn’t very effective when you’re taciturn to begin with,” Muelsyse says.
“Why are you following me?”
“It’s raining.”
“You tried to drown me,” Saria ignores her protest. “Don’t pretend you care whether I get wet.”
“I do care. There’s a time and place for everything.”
Saria’s surprised Muelsyse isn’t apologetic about what happened. She was always chipper, sometimes oblivious— or was she only feigning that? Saria left Rhine Lab years ago. Muelsyse never followed. Instead, she helped her behind the scenes. Saria can’t fathom why she would and then decide to stand by Kristen. Did that snake cut the air to Muelsyse’s brain for too long? Or was she always like this?
Trimounts is in disarray. Residents have mostly kept to themselves, staying indoors, as if afraid that another disaster is will be upon them soon enough.
“What did you think of the service?” Muelsyse asks. Saria scoffs.
“Right?”
Saria stops and looks at her. “You mean to say that wasn’t your idea?”
“I’d say you can’t mourn the living, but that’s not always true.” Another crease touches her brow before flattening again. “Either way, she has to legally declared dead for Rhine Lab to go on.” A frown before she shakes her head, an easy smile coming back. Is she thinking that no one has thrown a funeral for Parvis? “It’s what she wanted. Oh. The others went to the pub for a few drinks.” Muelsyse nods down the street, some place a few blocks down Saria’s never heard of. “They wanted me to pass it along.”
“I’m not interested.” She walks again and Muelsyse walks alongside of her.
“Don’t be like that. They’re your colleagues and it’ll be nice to reconnect before you’re back in the office.”
“I don’t work there anymore.”
“Technically, you never left.” Muelsyse hands her the umbrella and Saria holds on to it numbly, not having it in her to toss it or let Muelsyse get wet. Muelsyse digs into her purse and pulls out a large sealed envelope. “Kristen was serious when she said she didn’t accept your resignation. Me too, I guess,” she smiles wanly before extending the envelope to her. “We never removed you from the system. Kristen left our little baby to you. All your information is up-to-date and you have the highest security clearance. I took care of it personally, so no need to worry about all that tedious onboarding process. I’m so thoughtful, aren’t I? Welcome back, Miss Control.”
Saria doesn’t take the envelope. “Are you insane?”
❖
Saria signs the paperwork a week later. It’s strange returning to Rhine Lab and to not have Her there. The other usual faces are, but it isn’t the same. Those who were tense around her before are more so now. It’s what she owes Kristen and Rhine Lab. She has to build it up again.
Emails and calls have poured in. There are hundreds to go through.
Muelsyse pops in with a plant for her desk and a collection of notes summarizing the calls and emails she’s yet to sort through, along with the projects the other directors are working on. Saria looks through her paperwork. It’s tidy and absent of her usual asides. There have been countless attorneys clogging up the phone lines, looking to discuss class action suits and the figures and settlements they’re looking at. Muelsyse has organized them by firm, along with who’s filing jointly.
Saria hadn’t thought she’d have a headache this soon into her tenure. She glances up from the notes to see Muelsyse at the door, readying her exit. Saria calls out to her and Muelsyse turns, the similar smile on her lips, eyebrows raised.
Saria feels her feet give way from under her as if falling into space, nothingness. Two figures looking down at her before they’re so small they become dots and she’s burning, weightlessness giving way to frightening speed and then the embrace of water, of oceans, cradling her in its arms.
Muelsyse’s voice stirs Saria from the memories.
“Could you repeat that?” Saria asks.
Muelsyse laces her hands behind her back and Saria tenses. “I asked if you were settling in okay?”
Saria isn’t sure yet. Since leaving Rhine Lab she’s had her fair share of disagreements with the directors, on some days even coming to blows with them. It wouldn’t be ethical to punch Ferdinand anymore, tempting as it may be. “I had little idea how much we’d grown.” Much of that growth isn’t public knowledge. “We’ve nearly tripled our staff in just a few years.” They’ve more than quadrupled the defense contractors they work with, along with more unsavory types. It all needs reining in.
“Those military contracts pay big bucks.” Muelsyse remains lingering by the door. “You’re up to the challenge. And Silence will play big brother.”
Yes. Silence. Saria’s glad they’ve somewhat mended fences. Silence will help keep them on the right track, but Saria suspects she’ll also be a thorn in her side. She worries that she thinks of that overwatch as a ‘thorn in her side’. “It would behoove you to not be so cavalier about her.”
“Mh,” Muelsyse nods but there’s something else she doesn’t say and Saria can’t make out what it might be.
Saria’s tired of being the one answering questions. “How do you feel now that I’ve returned?”
“Happy, of course.”
Saria frowns. “I don’t understand you.”
“I’d be happier if she was here with us,” she shrugs a little. “But we were without you for a long time. That wasn’t any better.” She considers. “But this is what she wanted. So… this must be ‘better’.”
“…Is this the same Muelsyse I spoke to on the space station?”
“The one and only.”
Everything about her is a contradiction. Saria thinks of the woman on her knees, staring up at the sky, tears streaming down her face. They were just back on Terra ground and Kristen was gone. Even Saria could make out her expression for what it was: heartbreak. But she couldn’t still her anger.
Why are you crying? Saria asked. She didn’t intend to growl when she spoke again. Isn’t this what you nearly killed us all for?
She said the words and not a moment later heard Silence calling out to her. When she turned back Muelsyse was gone. Just like Kristen was gone. Everything hurt.
Muelsyse hasn’t said a word about it. As if she knows that Saria wants to escape it.
Saria picks up a pen and clicks it once before setting it down. “You knew Kristen best.” Muelsyse shakes her head. Saria doesn’t know if she even means the words, if the tightness in her throat is from jealousy, grief or regret. “You knew her better than me in the end.” Muelsyse’s expression gives away nothing. “Kristen could never resist taking work home. I’d be surprised if that changed in my absence.”
Muelsyse keeps her distance. “I have a key if that’s what you want.”
Saria doesn’t need a key to get inside. But how did Muelsyse come to have one? Muelsyse and Kristen were close. Were they that close? Then again, Muelsyse has a habit of going where she isn’t wanted or invited. “All right.”
Muelsyse approaches the desk. She takes a small collection of keys from her jacket pocket, held together by a coiled lime green band. She plucks the key free and sets it in front of Saria. “All yours.”
Saria starts to reach for it before stopping herself. “Any idea what I might find?”
She shrugs. “Maybe nothing. She was good at hiding what she didn’t want others to find.” Did she hide anything from Muelsyse? “Anyway,” she continues airily. “No need to rush that back to me. Hang on to it as long as you want.”
“Did she tell you what she wanted to do with it after she was gone?”
“No.” A frown, gone and replaced with a smile. “No.”
“I’ll head over after work. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”
Muelsyse hesitates, closing her eyes before agreeing.
❖
Muelsyse stands at Saria’s side, not entering despite the door being wide open. Saria’s fingers clench at her side, her heart thumping harder. It’s only one small step but she can’t make herself take it. Muelsyse bumps her shoulder. “I’d tell you if it was booby trapped.”
It isn’t an option she’d considered but when Muelsyse is involved anything is possible. Muelsyse brushes in past her when Saria remains at the door. Eventually, Saria forces herself to take the step forward. It’s cold. It feels empty, even if she can recognize the familiar books on the shelves, the accomplishments on the wall. There’s a framed picture of the groundbreaking ceremony for Rhine Lab. Saria takes it from the wall. She and Kristen stand at the forefront before a large crowd. Muelsyse stands in the middle just behind them, beaming, happy tears in her eyes.
Saria scans the room for her. Muelsyse stands by the floor to ceiling windows, looking out. Night has already fallen and the city isn’t as bright as it was only a few weeks ago.
Saria walks over, the framed photograph still in hand. “Remember this?”
Muelsyse looks at the photo, her fingers brushing Saria’s as she eases the frame slightly in her direction. She smiles. “We look like babies.”
Saria chuckles. “It was a long time ago.” They were young. “You don’t look much different.” Muelsyse has changed the least of them, at least physically. She’s become more cunning with the passage of time. Was it always in Muelsyse or was it what she became for the sake of Rhine Lab? Have her efforts led to dividends for her? Or have they all gone to Rhine Lab?
“I stay moisturized,” Muelsyse rubs her cheeks for effect, smiling before it fades. “I could give you my secret specialized routine?” she cocks an eyebrow.
Somehow she doubts it’ll take if she’s not an elf. “I’ll pass.”
“Thought as much,” a beleaguered sigh and she drifts away, wandering the condo like a ghost. Has she always looked so lost?
Saria watches after her, holding the photograph so tightly that the glass cracks.
Wide eyes.
A gasp.
▽
Her fist punched through the metal frame before she flattened her fingers, stopping the force of motion. There was no more metal. A weak heartbeat grazed her fingertips. Hot water slipped onto them. Shaky breathing, whimpering.
Saria froze. Muelsyse?
A heavy sinking feeling crashed into her. No. It couldn’t be. But somehow — she moved fast, with a desperation she hadn’t felt since she thought she might have to end Ifrit— the power suit crumpled like aluminum in her hands as she ripped it open. Inside that heart cavity was Muelsyse, strapped into it like some kind of experiment.
Saria couldn’t breathe. Muelsyse’s eyes were closed, her cheeks stained with tears. Saria ripped away the apparatus that kept her hooked into the thing, was more careful when she realized something else had been shoved into her mouth that kept her from moving. She wanted to say something to her. Something reassuring but she could think of nothing.
Saria carefully pried Muelsyse’s lips open and removed the mouthpiece. There it was: a chunk of originium. The rage that flowed through her was disconcerting. She remembered her father’s warnings of vouivre madness. But no, it would not take her. It couldn’t take her. She’d fought it all her life. She wouldn’t lose to it now.
There was one final belt looped around Muelsyse’s neck and Saria undid it, careful to not bruise her further. Muelsyse fell forward limp into her arms. She weighed nothing and it frightened her. Muelsyse…? The elf didn’t respond.
Saria was careful not to let the originium touch Muelsyse, stepping back onto solid ground with one arm wrapped tightly around Muelsyse’s waist. She sealed the originium in the power armor, forgetting it just as quickly as she sank to the ground with Muelsyse safely in her arms. She kneeled, cradling Muelsyse on her knee, studying her face. She’d never seen her so pale. It wasn’t only tears on her face. It was beads of sweat. Her hair was damp with perspiration. Hey, Saria said, instead of don’t do this. She wanted to shake her, demand she snap out of it. Why was she unresponsive? She couldn’t be unresponsive. Saria palmed her face, lowered her ear to her chest.
At first she heard nothing. Then there was a heartbeat. Slow and quiet but still there. Saria closed her eyes, breathed out, held her close without meaning to. What the hell had Muelsyse gotten up to? How had she gotten into this situation? Stupid, senseless, thoughtless woman.
A small stirring. Saria…?
Saria held her closer, relieved, breathing out shakily. Yes.
I thought that was you. Her eyes were closed, her lashes fluttering as if struggling to open them. Am I dead…?
Saria took her hand. Muelsyse’s fingers were limp. Not yet.
Oh. Her voice was small and weak. Saria pulled back to look at her. There were dark circles under Muelsyse’s eyes, something she didn’t think was possible. Muelsyse leaned into her. I’m glad.
Yeah. Me too, she thought, but didn’t say. What happened? Who put you in there?
Mh. My head’s fuzzy. My head hurts. Everything hurts… She gasped, bringing a curled fist to her forehead. Her lips were cracked and dry. Saria got to a standing with Muelsyse in her arms. What are…
I’m taking you home. Saria told her. Muelsyse looked like she wanted to protest but only seemed to nestle further into her arms.
❖
Muelsyse applies a dab of ointment to Saria’s finger, covering the cut with a small bandage decorated with happy mugs of coffee. It doesn’t suit her and she’s more than capable of healing herself but she lets her do it. They’re seated on the couch. Saria glances at the broken frame on the coffee table, the blood that has spiderwebbed along the cracked glass, over Kristen and Muelsyse’s faces. It’s hard to breathe.
“Easy there,” Muelsyse turns Saria’s hand in her own. “It’ll heal up in no time. I didn’t know blood made you queasy.”
“It doesn’t,” she pulls her hand away, flexing her thumb and feeling the bandage crinkle in the joints before looking back to the picture frame.
“We’ll get a new frame,” Muelsyse says. “It’s not ruined.”
Saria’s throat is dry. She nods.
Muelsyse stands, collecting the photograph and frame, moving away from the couch, her voice trailing back to Saria. “We don’t have to do everything tonight, you know. If it’s too much, I mean.”
Saria doesn’t say anything. She can’t very well invite Muelsyse twice. She isn’t sure what she’s looking for, if anything. There are Rhine Lab secrets to glean here. She’s relatively sure of that. But everything else… why did she come? Why drag Muelsyse along?
“Are you still angry?” Muelsyse asks.
Saria turns on the couch to look back at her, hearing glass clinking. Muelsyse’s chin is down, her hair sweeping over her face as she works to loosen the photograph from the frame. “Angry?”
“Over our little tiff.”
What ‘tiff’? “When you tried to kill me?”
Muelsyse laughs softly. “I wasn’t trying to kill you. You’re tougher than anyone around. What could I possibly do? It was a disagreement, is all.”
Saria scowls, unsure if Muelsyse is screwing with her or actually believes what she’s saying. They haven’t spoken much about that day and Saria feels her face burn. She’s torn between arguing and letting it go. Muelsyse returns to the couch before Saria can decide on a plan of action.
“Here you go,” she returns the frame with the photograph inside. The glass has been removed. Saria looks for traces of blood on the photo but doesn’t find any. “You should take that with you. It’s history, after all.”
Saria nods but sets the frame down before she snaps anything else. They sit in silence. Saria feels Muelsyse’s gaze, and wonders if Muelsyse can detect how Saria’s eyes touch on her, trying to construct a complete picture but afraid to look at her for too long.
“Has it changed a lot?” Muelsyse asks. “Since you last came here?”
“Yes.” She bites her tongue but continues, her tongue dry. “You?”
“No.”
Another ton of quiet presses down on them. Does Muelsyse feel it, too? The weight squeezing against her chest, how the air feels too syrupy, making breathing difficult? “May I ask you a question?”
Muelsyse cocks her head. Her voice is soft. “Yeah.”
“Why help me stop Parvis and expose Kristen when Ifrit was involved, only for you to turn around and go after Anthony Simon behind my back? Why help me find a way to stop Dorothy and Kristen’s plan to only to attack me and do everything in your power to help Kristen succeed?”
“That’s two questions.” Muelsyse gives Saria the necessary time to scowl before continuing. “Because I believe in you both. I wanted to help you and Kristen.” She rests her elbow on her knee, planting her chin in the palm of her hand to gaze at Saria. “But you wanted different things in the end and there was only one of me. I wanted to keep things balanced. I wanted … to be fair.” A crease touches her brow and is quickly gone. “I couldn’t get it right. It really sucks.”
“Did you expect you’d return to Rhine Lab after what you did?”
“Why not? Everyone else did. All things considered… my ‘crimes’ at Rhine Lab are minor league. Compared to some of the others, anyway.” She scratches her cheek, as if realizing she shouldn’t have said it. She picks at a loose string on the cuff of her jacket. “But I was meant go with Kristen. That was the plan, anyway.”
Saria waits. Her mouth is bone dry. She doesn’t want to ask but she has to know. “Did she ask you to come after me…?” She’ll never forget how her stomach dropped, faster than her legs as she fell into nothingness.
There’s a long pause. “Do you really want to know?”
Saria laces her hands, looks out to the night sky.
“She didn’t choose either one of us in the end.”
No, Saria thinks. But Kristen did invite Saria to come along. Was it a gesture of love, asking Saria to essentially die with her? Or was that love directed at Muelsyse? Did Kristen know how to love? Even thinking the questions makes her feel like a traitor.
Muelsyse’s eyes are cloudy. Cloudier than what their bodies tore through as they hurtled towards the ground that would shatter them. Did Muelsyse choose to save her? Or did she not want her to die alone? Did she know she would survive that fall? It happened so quickly. Some days it still feels as if she’s falling. Her emotions, body, thoughts, still feel raw. “After I fell and you followed,” Saria asks, “Did you know we would survive? That you would survive?”
“I did it and I’d do it again. Does it matter what I thought?”
“But you could have…” Saria tries to say. Muelsyse shrugs, as if it were nothing worth making a big deal out of. Saria squints her eyes and tries to swallow. “Did you know she would do what she did? That she would…” She’s not sure why she remains flabbergasted by what happened. She and Kristen fought before. Intellectually. Violently. But she never imagined they’d part that way. Is she only incensed that she didn’t see it coming…? That Kristen outplayed her?
“I didn’t know,” Muelsyse rubs her eyes. “I wonder if she ever meant any of it.”
❖
The room is cold. The sheets are cold. Muelsyse’s mouth and body are warm. Saria’s fingers shake. It’s the cold or the nerves or her barely pent up desire. Is it guilt? Muelsyse’s fingers don’t shake as she reaches for her, but her eyes are vulnerable.
▽
Saria brought Muelsyse to her old apartment the night she pulled Muelsyse from that power suit. The originium made Muelsyse sick and delirious. Saria thought or hoped that some part of Muelsyse was hamming it up for attention but she was unfocused. It was difficult to get her to drink water. She kept asking for Kristen. She tried to warn her about Ho’olheyak.
You need rest, Saria told her, after Muelsyse refused to succumb to sleep, her eyes snapping awake every time she was close. I’ll handle things. Saria kept an arm wrapped around her shoulders, careful to not spill water on her as she tried to get her to drink. She wondered if Muelsyse found the situation absurd. Drink.
Muelsyse drank. Her eyes drifted closed. She leaned into her, breathing normalizing. I can’t believe you’re here, Muelsyse’s fingers grasped weakly at her arm. Is this a dream?
Saria smiled faintly. Would it make her feel better? Yes. It’s a dream.
Muelsyse sighed, resting against her more heavily. I should have known. Good. The real you would never bring me here. Or let me live this down. She took Saria’s hands in her own, kissing her knuckles. Saria froze. I wonder if I’d be happier if I could stop loving you.
❖
Saria watches her face, feeling as if she’s drowning again. Muelsyse’s cheeks darken as she cradles Saria’s face in her hands.
Her face is too earnest. Saria kisses her. Muelsyse responds heatedly. She draws Saria’s turtleneck off, her fingers tracing over every physical hurt, every scar, where she remains bruised from the fall, from their battle.
Saria’s eyes half-close as Muelsyse’s lips follow the path of her fingers. Saria was beginning to suspect that she would never be able to shake the cold of space, the stars, Kristen’s final goodbye. Now the cold is fading. She hadn’t realized how firmly it had taken a hold on her. They’re in Kristen’s home, in Kristen’s bed. It’s wrong.
Kristen’s not cold. She isn’t even dead. Not yet.
Muelsyse nibbles on her ear, and as much as Saria tries to hold on to the ugly feelings, she can’t. Muelsyse’s words blur, a soft, sweet language she doesn’t understand. Muelsyse’s fingers work stealthily. Saria only just hears the unbuckling of her belt, only feels Muelsyse’s hand slipping down her stomach, between her legs.
Saria can’t steady her breathing. She looks at Muelsyse. Her face is flushed, her hand stalled in place before it lifts just enough to deprive Saria of her touch. The guilt Saria so easily discarded seems to have settled over Muelsyse, instead. Saria wants to say something comforting. We can stop, or we don’t have to. But the thought of making the offer, having it accepted makes her stomach twist.
It doesn’t matter. Neither of them were Kristen’s lover when Kristen left them behind. They owe her nothing. Kristen’s absence has been a black hole in their lives, drawing in all light, consuming their waking moments.
Muelsyse lifts her hand again, cupping her. Fire makes its way down Saria’s belly. Muelsyse’s face heats more. “You don’t have to say anything,” Muelsyse murmurs. “Only ‘no’ or ‘yes.”
Saria can’t speak. She can’t swallow. She inhales when Muelsyse’s thumbs hook onto the waist of her pants, tugging them down. When her hand wraps around her, Saria closes her eyes and exhales. She gasps when Muelsyse squeezes, her fingers grazing along her.
Muelsyse sits up, lips on her neck, hand continuing to slide along her. The words she breathes into her ear are like a spell and Saria goes lightheaded. ‘Yes’, or ‘no’, Muelsyse said, but Saria’s jaw hardens. The only word that comes to mind is ‘more’.
They danced in the Galleria Stellaria. It was loud. The rush of water. The detonations elsewhere on the ship. The calcification hardening all of her. Muelsyse used everything in her power to push Saria back and keep her at bay. Now she simply commands her with a soft voice and Saria lies down as instructed.
Muelsyse looks down at Saria, at her own hand, holding her captive, and smiles faintly. She’s mulling something over, and Saria tries to think of what it might be, but she is mercifully incapable of thought. Muelsyse dips her head, her free hand coming up to tuck a lock of hair behind her pointed ear. Saria bites her tongue hard, refusing to allow any mewling past her lips as she slips past Muelsyse’s, as Muelsyse adjusts, working to take her deeper. She’s as warm as Saria remembers when she caught her as she fell from the sky. Warmer.
Muelsyse sighs softly, hands clamped along her, stroking, tongue teasing her. It’s been too long and Saria aches to escape thought and memory, wishing only to be sensation. Her fingers catch the sheets beneath her, but her hands are hot and the sheets can’t cool her.
How strange. The woman who often irritated her, betrayed her, saved her, opening herself, her throat in service. Saria can no longer resist and brings a hand to the back of Muelsyse’s head, pushing her down until Saria disappears fully into her. Saria can’t help her sigh. More, more, more.
Saria lifts her hips, fighting how forcefully she wants to pump them. Muelsyse doesn’t struggle. Muelsyse’s tongue draws words onto her. What kind of things does Muelsyse communicate when she thinks no one is listening or watching? Would she be annoyed if Muelsyse told her? Embarrassed?
Saria releases the hold on her head and Muelsyse rises too, closing her eyes and breathing steadily. Muelsyse leans forward, not releasing her, but kissing along her hip bone, nipping gently at her skin. Can Muelsyse feel her heartbeat? Saria wants her mouth again, wants to demand it of her. She’s skipped too many days at the gym. She blamed her hurt, her work, but now it’s hard to control herself.
She wants to tell Muelsyse what to do but can’t. She sits up enough to grab her, maneuver her over her lap. For moments they stare at one another, breathing heavily, their heat spilling over each other. Saria brings her hand between Muelsyse’s legs. She’s soaked. Saria wordlessly jerks her closer, pushing her underwear aside. Her fingers glide over her and Muelsyse ducks her chin, her hand locked tight on Saria’s tail. Her tail swishes, wrapping tentatively around her arm before loosening.
Saria shifts, impatient and afraid, searching for her eyes, waiting for encouragement. Muelsyse reaches down, holding her again and guiding her. Saria knows she has to start slow, despite not wanting to start slow. A small wince and Muelsyse is the one to lower herself down so that Saria penetrates her. Muelsyse’s arms wind around her neck and Saria hikes Muelsyse’s skirt up, catching a glimpse of her glistening thighs. Her hands settle on Muelsyse’s waist, taking her time and drawing her down fully.
Saria draws a sharp breath. Muelsyse is tight, wet, sheathing and trapping her as soon as Saria’s squeezed into her. Muelsyse’s legs sit on either side of her but neither one of them moves. Saria sees glimpses of the room, Her things, Her room, Her apartment, Her bed. Saria’s heart pounds harder.
Muelsyse presses her forehead to Saria’s, her breath coming out short, fast, ‘ha’ as she adjusts her legs, shifting to accommodate Saria the best that she can. She pulls Saria closer until Saria is resting her head against her chest. Saria worries the horns will hurt her but Muelsyse doesn’t seem to notice. Muelsyse’s hips swivel leisurely, rocking with her, lifting and falling, pulling small, embarrassing cries out of Saria. Saria takes hold of Muelsyse’s hips, pulling her back down when Muelsyse withdraws too much, leaving her cold, and forcing their union again. Saria listens to Muelsyse’s racing heartbeat, their wet sounds.
▽
When you said you loved me, did you mean it? Saria asked her during their battle aboard the Galleria Stellaria. She was running on empty at that point and had almost nothing left. Muelsyse looked no worse for wear. Or was it another ploy?
Surprise swallowed Muelsyse’s anger and defiance. Her eyes grew soft. How did…
It was the distraction Saria needed, enough to get Muelsyse to lower her guard. Saria punched and it went right through Muelsyse, past the steel door behind her, obliterating everything in its path. There was only silence. Saria looked around her. Water misted around her but she was alone. Having achieved her objective the last thing she expected to feel was panic. Did she hurt her…? Was it possible to hurt her?
She didn’t dwell on it. She couldn’t. Muelsyse didn’t matter then. She couldn’t matter if Saria wanted to stop Kristen.
Then she fell.
Muelsyse jumped out of the spaceship after her.
Was it to demand answers? Because she hated her? Loved her? Was she just following orders? Or was willing to die with her so she wouldn’t die alone? Was it the greatest act of love anyone had ever given her?
❖
Saria’s arms wrap around Muelsyse’s back. She’s slight but doesn’t complain when Saria crushes them together. When Saria lifts, pounding into her, Muelsyse holds her tighter, wraps her legs around her waist, taking her deeper.
If only they could blame it on the drink. Muelsyse squeezes her in ways she didn’t think she could be, in ways that make her feel she’s been drugged, the pleasure taking her to heights she didn’t think were possible. Their tempo changes, swifter now, the two of them racing to catch each other or outrun whatever they might be feeling. Muelsyse’s small moans as Saria hammers into her are enough to drive her into delirium.
She’s coming apart.
Back together.
She’s coming.
Saria tries to tell her but Muelsyse doesn’t let her go and Saria doesn’t want her to. They pitch together like waves, colliding stars, frantic. Muelsyse follows her lead, and when Saria is going to tell her, warn her, Muelsyse kisses her instead, swallowing her cries, rolling her hips and contracting to get every bit of her. Is this the kind of dance Muelsyse wanted? Saria spasms, thrusting until she’s empty and Muelsyse clenches and flutters around her, the both of them panting.
Saria feels their mingled juices coating her, dripping along Muelsyse’s inner thighs. Muelsyse’s legs are trembling and Saria can’t feel her own. They should separate now but Saria doesn’t want to let her go.
She has to let her go. Minutes pass.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” Saria says.
Muelsyse breathes against her neck. It takes her time to sit up, to properly face her. Her hair is unkempt, her eyes emotional, lips shining. Saria loathes how attracted she is to her in this moment. Is it because it’s the opposite of Kristen’s final perfect composure? “There’s that clarity,” Muelsyse laughs softly. Saria tenses. She continues. “You didn’t do anything,” Muelsyse pushes the bangs back from Saria’s face, kissing her temple where the bullet struck. Saria closes her eyes.
Her heart overflows and it confuses and terrifies her. The tears threaten to come but not now. It can’t be now.
“I pushed it. I’ve always wanted it and I took you.” Muelsyse’s lips linger on her forehead. “You haven’t betrayed her.”
Saria’s fingers dig into her own arms as she tries to release Muelsyse. Her pain, the cold, the guilt, how easily Muelsyse safeguards her against them. “All right,” Saria mumbles. She’s never been so cowardly and frail. She’s never felt such shame and gratitude.
Muelsyse doesn’t release her. She holds her. At some point Saria’s heart and breathing slow, a calm embracing her. She listens to Muelsyse’s heartbeat. She falls asleep. When she wakes, it’s morning and she’s alone.