Chapter Text
III.
—
“But you love me like my mother,
And you kiss me like your wife,
And I swear to you I’ll give you more than I have tonight.”
—
“You may now kiss the bride!”
The corner of Soul’s lightly painted lips quirk into a smile as cheers erupt from the crowd, happy for the newly weds. Smile grows to grin when a sheer wolf-whistle rings out— Saki, Soul spots from the corner of her eye, Amber whooping next to her— loud in their encouragement for Venam, who swept her wife into her arms to kiss her more thoroughly.
“They make a lovely couple,” a familiar voice calls from Soul’s left— Tesla. “But it’s a bit strange seeing Venam all grown up now. The idea of her settling down…”
The ruby-haired woman chuckles, shaking her head as nostalgia takes over.
“I doubt marriage will calm her down,” Soul shrugs, brushing aside a stray wisp of her snow-white hair.
“Yeah,” Amber snorts, having woven her way through the masses to get to them. Saki bounces along next to her, grinning madly. “Melia will have her hands full with that dumbass.”
“Just wait ‘till it’s your turn,” Saki cackles wildly, snapping a hand out to point at Amber’s nose. She then swings her other arm out in Soul’s direction, leveling both women with a shit-eating grin. “Or yours.”
Amber scowls at the thought, her hackles rising almost as quickly as the blood flooding her cheeks.
“Like hell!” she hisses, crossing her arms. Soul offers nothing more than a deadpan stare, raising a single brow at her louder-than-life friend.
“My girls walking down the aisle…” Tesla coos, cupping one of her cheeks in her hand, her eyes positively glowing at the idea. “...How beautiful you’ll both be!”
“Mom!” Amber whines, embarrassed beyond belief. She tries to hide it with a scoff, but shifts on her feet, unconsciously seeking out her sister’s green eyes to gauge her reaction. Soul meets her gaze and shakes her head, also playing it off.
“Maybe,” she hums, glancing back at her mother for a moment, then around at the dispersing crowd, everyone trotting eagerly towards the reception area. Her nose scrunches as waves and waves of strangers pass by, only a handful of faces known to her, and lets out a sigh.
“But I’d have to meet someone first,” she reminds in a lackluster tone.
The smarmy comment fuels another fit of Saki’s wildfire laughter, the engineer stomping her foot in glee as she dramatically wipes a tear from her eye.
“You meeting people on purpose?” she teases, meandering over to Soul to sling an arm around her shoulders, much to the other woman’s annoyance. “HA!”
“Aren’t you clever?” Soul drawls, smoothly extracting herself from Saki’s grip. She glides a hand down the front of her teal dress, smothering the nonexistent wrinkles.
“Fuckin’ hilarious,” Amber grumbles, moving to stand next to her sister in solidarity.
“Now, now, girls,” Tesla scolds without any real heat. She tilts her head in the direction of the reception building, the subtle wrinkles on her face warming her soft features. “Behave. This is a very important evening, after all. Shall we?”
Successfully corralled, the three younger women follow Tesla obediently, though continue to jab at one another along the way, wisps of their laughter trailing behind them.
None notice the silent observer but several yards away, her amethyst gaze burning with curiosity as they linger on Soul’s retreating form, her ears deaf to the chatter of her companion beside her.
—
“–Lita. Aelita?”
Aelita blinks, broken from her reverie. She shakes her head to clear it, dragging her eyes away from the group of women she had been observing. Or rather, away from the pale-haired woman she had been observing.
“Sorry!” she smiles, a tad sheepish. Rubbing the back of her neck in an embarrassed gesture, she gives her full attention to Ren, who had been calling her name. “Guess I zoned out.”
“More like you zoned in on that girl,” Venam snickers, walking up to the duo with her wife— her wife!
“Oh?” Melia hums, eyes alighting with interest as she glances from her wife to her friend, raising a brow. She loves to play matchmaker, after all— and it’s rare she gets to these days. “Do tell me more.”
“I was not!” Aelita hisses in protest, darting her eyes left and right to see if anyone had overheard the accusation.
“I dunno, Aelita,” Ren shrugs, carefully adjusting the knot of his grey tie. “I called your name at least five times before you noticed.”
“Ren!” Aelita practically whines, tugging despairingly at her hair.
“Busted,” Venam smarms with a shit-eating grin. She nudges Melia with her elbow, drawing focus back to her. “And you’ll never guess who Little Miss Starstruck was making puppy eyes at.”
“I wasn’t making—!” Aelita tries to interrupt, her face borderline scarlet at this point.
“Who?” Melia and Ren ask simultaneously, neither having caught sight of who their thoroughly-embarrassed friend was gawking at.
“Soul,” Venam replies, outright cackling at Ren’s wide eyes and Melia’s gasp of delight.
“No,” Melia breathes, grinning ear to ear as she flicks her eyes back to Aelita, silently laughing at her distressed state. The poor girl was going to strangle herself with her tie if she tugged on it any harder. “Really?”
“I… Huh,” Ren oh so eloquently offers, tilting his head in contemplation. “That would certainly be… an interaction.”
“We have to introduce them!” Melia chirps, positively thrilled at the idea of setting up two of her closest friends, at her wedding no less— it was something straight out of a novel.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Aelita cries, waving her hands in front of her. “I don’t even know anything about her! Wouldn’t it be awkward?”
“Then we’ll give you a crash course,” Melia beams, moving to grab Aelita’s arm and practically dragging her towards the reception, Ren and Venam following on either side of the duo. “Soul was my freshman year roommate in college. We’ve been close friends ever since.”
“Venam and I met Soul through Melia,” Ren shrugs. He smiles at the memory, recalling his first interaction with the frosty-haired woman he still chats with weekly. “She was quiet at the start. Kinda…cool? Distant? But once she warmed up to us it was always easy to talk with her.”
“She can be snarky as hell,” Venam offers, crossing her arms uncaringly behind her head. “I tried to prank her once and she turned the tables on me so hard.”
“That’s…nice?” Aelita says, equal parts hesitant and confused. She drags a hand through her hair, trying to smooth down the damage she’d caused by yanking at the strands earlier. “Um.”
“She’s a softie at heart,” Melia soothes, quietly amused at the idea of Aelita— sociable, enthusiastic, extroverted Aelita— being nervous about talking to a girl. A girl Melia knows quite well, no less. “She’s an artist. Has a bunch of sketchbooks filled to the brim with these detailed, charcoal drawings. Some colored ones, too. You could use that as a conversation starter.”
“I guess that’s a good idea,” Aelita mumbles, still slightly put-out. “But I don’t really know anything about art. What if I make a fool out of myself?”
Venam snorts at that, arching an eyebrow. “Dude.”
“It could happen!” Aelita argues, scrunching her nose. She looks around the packed reception room, filled with tables of food and drink to be enjoyed. She’s not one to partake per se, but if her friends are adamant about introducing her to the woman who had caught her eye…
Well. Maybe some liquid courage might be in order.
“You’re hopeless,” Venam snarks with a roll of her eyes, wincing at the glare Melia levels her way. “O-Oh, well…look! Soul’s right there!” she coughs, trying rather frantically to escape her wife’s scolding eyes. She raises her hand in bid to catch the other woman’s attention.
“Venam, don’t—” Aelita pleads, going pale.
“SOUL!” Venam bellows, causing multiple heads to turn their way. “Get over here, would ya?!”
“Oh my god,” Aelita whispers into her hands, which have covered her face in agony. Ren pats her back in solidarity, Melia giving her arm a comforting squeeze.
The lady in question glides her way across the floor, towards the trio, her brow quirked and hand cradling a half-full glass of sweet wine. Her jade eyes gloss easily over Aelita, intrigued by the flush on her cheeks, before settling on her loud-mouthed companion.
“Should’ve known you’d cause a ruckus at your own wedding,” Soul teases, taking a sip of her drink and, unbeknownst to her, inadvertently drawing Aelita’s gaze to the lipstick staining the once clear glass.
“Yeah, yeah, just c’mere!” Venam snorts with a roll of her eyes, throwing an arm over the shorter girl’s shoulder in a half hug. “Got someone we want you to meet.”
“Is that so?” Soul hums, accepting the affection, followed by a hug from Ren and Melia, the latter extracting herself from the unfamiliar woman with the pretty purple eyes.
“I have it on good authority that the two of you will get along,” Melia surmises, leaving out the key detail that it is she, of course, acting as said authority. “This is Aelita.”
“Uh–” Aelita utters, wincing at the obvious break in her voice. She clears her throat, trying (in vain) to save herself from looking like a fish out of water. The muffled laughter coming from Venam and Ren, the traitor, only seems to make matters worse. She kind of wants to die. Or melt into the floor at the very least.
“Very helpful Aelita, thank you,” Melia offers with a tinkling laugh. She flashes what she hopes to be an encouraging smile, twining her fingers with Venam’s and pulling her away from the two women. Ren, wisely, follows her lead.
“We’re just gonna…” Ren trails off, looking almost as awkward as Aelita feels. Almost. “...Go. Over there.”
“Smooth,” Venam snarks to him as they slowly meander out of earshot, Aelita staring after them in horror. “Dumbass.”
And then they’re gone, leaving Aelita to fend for herself. Alone with Soul. Barely able to string a couple words together lest her tongue glue itself to the roof of her mouth. How perfect.
“So…” she starts, her cheeks painting a warm hue of red as she looks back to Soul’s, only to find those gemstone eyes already watching her. “I hear you’re an artist? Is there…is there anything you’re currently working on?”
“Not at the moment,” Soul answers rather casually. She drags her eyes down Aelita’s form in equal parts attraction and an artist’s precision of her craft, itching to draft up a sketch. She finds herself thinking about which techniques she’d use— charcoal or ink for the strong slope of her biceps? Quick, layered lines or smooth continuous strokes for the strength in her shoulders? “I’m in need of a new…muse.”
The subtle weight to the words, paired with the slow…appreciation in Soul’s glance has Aelita blushing for an entirely different reason than her nervousness. She tugs at the collar of her tie, finding it feeling suspiciously tight.
“What about you?” Soul questions, saving Aelita from the heat of her own thoughts. “What do you do?”
“Oh, I teach martial arts!” she replies with enthusiasm, ever passionate about her work. “And am learning more about physical therapy. I’ve heard of some Masters programs that would let me work with other athletes, so I’ve been doing some research on that, too,” she explains bashfully, still unsure of what she wants her future to look like.
Yet her uncertainty seems to make Soul soften rather than put her off, and Aelita finds herself relaxing into the conversation.
“I know the feeling,” Soul confesses, tapping her nails on the side of her wine glass and making it sing quietly. “I love art, but went to school on more of a… pre-law track. It’s hard, fitting them together.”
“Oh wow,” Aelita blinks, clearly not expecting that combination either. Even so, she smiles in interest, wanting to know more, to keep talking with Soul for as long as she is able. “Are you planning on going to law school, then?”
“I don’t know,” Soul admits, blowing a stray wisp of white hair from her eyes. “Maybe. I…don’t think I’m ready to commit yet. There are things I want to try before locking myself away in college for another three years,” she drawls, recalling the stuffy libraries and urgent deadlines. And the stress.
Aelita laughs at that, a loud, full thing. It makes Soul’s eyes snap back to her, utterly enthralled.
“Right?” Aelita continues to giggle, her body shaking with mirth. “Gosh, I can still remember all those late night study sessions, and I was there on a sports scholarship! Everything was training, classes, training, studying! And matches on the weekends,” she groans, feeling the phantom ache in her muscles from her brutal schedule that was undergrad.
“Were you there for martial arts, then?” Soul asks with a slight tilt of her head.
“Yes, I– oh!” Aelita cuts off, reaching out to grab the other woman by her free arm and tug her close, safely out of the way of the rather drunken party goer stumbling to and fro. “Hey, watch where you’re going!” she calls out to him, huffing when all she receives in return is a completely unbothered “Sorry!”
Feeling the warmth of a body pressed to hers and remembering just who said body belongs to, Aelita freezes, hyper aware of the arms she had unknowingly moved to Soul’s waist. Wary, she slowly tilts her head down to meet Soul’s very, very green eyes.
“Um,” Aelita finds herself saying again, clearly the epitome of speech this evening.
“You know,” Soul begins, seamlessly sliding her now mostly-finished glass of wine on the table beside them without breaking Aelita’s gaze. “If you wanted me closer, all you had to do was ask.”
“I– I wasn’t trying to—” Aelita fumbles, caught in the trap that was Soul’s eyes holding her own, that was her hands moving to loop around Aelita’s neck in a loose embrace.
“So you don’t want me close?” Soul hums, knowing full well that she’s being completely unfair (and enjoying every second of it. That glass of wine was a fantastic idea).
“I didn’t say that,” Aelita protests with a rather adorable scowl, even more so paired with the firmer grip she gives to Soul’s waist.
“Good,” the white-haired beauty answers, her tone flowing from playful to sweet. “Because I don’t think I’m ready to let you go just yet.”
“Don’t let me go at all,” the voice in Aelita’s head pleads.
“You don’t have to,” she says instead, carefully leading the smaller woman to the dance floor. “I’ll be here all evening. And…” she hesitates, biting her lip as she considers her next words; as she gathers her courage.
“And?” Soul prompts, gently squeezing her arms draped around Aelita’s shoulders in a small bid of comfort.
“And I’m free after,” Aelita finishes, her amethyst eyes muddled with anxiousness, but also hopefulness. “If you want to spend more time together? Maybe go out for drinks?”
The invitation makes Soul grin, big and bright and beautiful, taking Aelita’s breath away.
“It’s a date.”