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It was a cool and rainy night in the Alps. The moon had been swallowed by dark clouds, and the pitter patter of the drizzle was constant and created a comforting ambiance within their small apartment. The day had been a long one, and the week even longer. All things considered, it was the perfect night to curl up on the couch and watch a movie, and Ava had declared as much. But Beatrice was proving to be well, Beatrice, and Ava knew she had to twist some arms.
“Movies are a waste of time, Ava.”
Beatrice was standing in the kitchen, arms crossed in front of her looking stubborn and beautiful.
Ava rolled her eyes but walked over to Beatrice, reached out and grabbed her hands, pulling until her arms relaxed. “What else are we going to do, Bea. Catch a cold? C’mon, watch a movie with me.”
Ava could see Beatrice still wanted to push back, would probably recommend turning on the lamp and pouring through old tomes they had. Reconnaissance, she would say with her proper accent and proper posture. But Ava – sweet, innocent Ava who was only concerned for the wellbeing of her best friend – pulled out the big guns: she made her eyes as big and round as possible and pushed out her bottom lip into a pout.
So what if the puppy dog eyes were cheating. Beatrice was the one who taught her to exploit her enemy’s weakness, after all.
“I’ll make popcorn,” Ava sing-songed, rubbing her thumbs over Beatrice’s knuckles. Grinned when she saw the way Beatrice’s tense shoulders dropped with a sigh.
“I’ll make the popcorn,” Beatrice grumbled. “You always end up burning it.”
Ava only shrugged her shoulders. It was true.
“I’ll get us some blankets! Make us a nice cozy nest.” She darted forward and pressed a kiss to Beatrice’s cheek and made her way to their room. Paused mid-step. “Oooh, should we make a blanket fort?” A glance from Beatrice, eyes squinted but face adorably pink, was enough of an answer. “Right, no blanket fort. For now,” Ava mumbled under her breath.
She raided their small bedroom pulling all three of their blankets as well as their pillows. Ava paused for a moment when she saw a warm blue sweater hanging on the back of the chair, before she smiled and pulled it on; took a deep breath and released it with a sigh. Moved back to the living room to carefully construct the optimal nest of coziness for movie watching.
“I’m thinking a rainy-day classic?” Ava called across the room to Beatrice who was standing in front of the stove. The apartment was already beginning to smell like popcorn.
“Whatever you think sounds good, Ava.”
Ava plopped down onto the sofa and pulled up the movie she had in mind on her laptop, doubtful Beatrice had ever seen it despite it being a true classic.
Beatrice walked into the living room holding a large bowl of popcorn but stopped when she noticed Ava.
“Is that my sweater?” Beatrice blinked; expression unreadable.
Ava grinned and grabbed the ends of the sleeves, pulling them over her hands as sweater paws. “Oh, is it? I didn’t notice?”
Beatrice blinked rapidly before shaking her head. She sat down next to Ava on the sofa, leaving about a foot of space between them. Ava rolled her eyes good-naturedly and scooted over so their legs were flushed against each other, Ava’s elbow knocking into Beatrice’s.
“We gotta share the laptop, Bea.” Ava sat the laptop on her left knee and Beatrice’s right, balanced between the both of them. It wasn’t ideal, per say, but it would have to make do.
Ava reached over Beatrice and grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it in her mouth, giving an appreciative moan at the perfect amount of salt and butter.
“You’re so good at that, Bea,” Ava mumbled and leaned back over for another handful of popcorn, missing completely the blush burning across Beatrice’s shocked face.
Beatrice cleared her throat, her spine ramrod straight. “What – what movie are we watching?”
Ava grinned at her, sucking the remnants of butter and salt off her fingertips. “A John Hughes movie, of course!” At Beatrice’s neutral expression, Ava’s smile dropped. “… You do know who John Hughes is, right?”
Beatrice glared at Ava, “Of course I know who John Hughes is. He’s… in the movies?”
Ava shook her head but gave Beatrice a warm and so fond smile. “You are the smartest, most capable and badass person I have ever met – how can you know multiple languages but not know the quintessential 80s movie classics?”
Beatrice bristled. “Well, I was spending my time learning those languages.” Ava grinned. “All seven of them, by the way.” She added as an afterthought making Ava laugh before snuggling down against Beatrice.
“Well, you’re about to start your lessons in pop culture and really good soundtracks. We’re kicking it off with The Breakfast Club followed by Pretty in Pink.”
Beatrice sighed but slowly sunk into the back of the couch; pressed her thigh more firmly against Ava’s. Ava glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, unable to keep the small smile from her lips.
Relaxed looked good on her.
.
Surprisingly, the movies passed in relative silence, with only a few pieces of commentary from Ava and Beatrice. As If You Leave played over Andie and Blane in the parking lot, Ava spoke up.
“I love this movie, I do. But, ugh, sometimes I wish they could’ve been made today, you know? I mean, Andie is way too good for Blane especially after he acted like a dick –”
“—Language.”
“—and she totally should have ended up with Duckie if she was going to end up with anyone – right? I know they played into the whole Cinderella thing, but they were best friends. They just fit better and understood each other.”
Beatrice nodded above her and Ava tried not to make her staring too obvious.
At one point, Ava had slouched so much they had to move the laptop onto the coffee table in front of them, stacked on four books to make it high enough to see. With the computer moved, Ava wasted no time in laying her head down in its place on Beatrice’s lap.
She had felt Beatrice tense beneath her, had seen her hands hover uncertainly above her. But Ava kept her eyes on the screen in front of them, gave Beatrice the time she needed to adjust.
And then, gently, Beatrice’s right hand landed on Ava’s arm and her left on her head. Slowly carded her fingers through Ava’s hair, making her sigh and melt. With eyes closed for a moment, Ava reached up with her own hand to grab Beatrice’s right, brought it down so Ava could hug it close to her. Could feel Beatrice holding her.
Ava had barely heard the movie above the pounding of her heart.
But now, Ava turned in Beatrice’s lap until she was staring up at her; Beatrice bent her head down and smiled, brushed Ava’s hair back from her face with careful fingers. Ava’s eyes felt wide, her face soft.
God, she’s beautiful.
She fluttered her eyes, trying to blink the stars away.
“What did you think of them? As your first foray into the cinematic masterpieces directed by John Hughes?”
Beatrice looked back to the laptop, credits now rolling on the screen, before tilting her head back and forth.
“I enjoyed the music,” Beatrice offered, making Ava groan.
“The soundtracks always slap. There’s something about them that I just want to bottle up and take with me. It reminds me of the feeling of exploring a new city – experiencing something new, something bigger than yourself.” Ava shrugged, turned back to see Beatrice already staring down at her, smile small but affectionate.
She felt the wind get knocked out of her, felt dizzy and full of bubbles.
“Plus,” she said in a daze before blinking and looking away from Beatrice. “I never got to go to a real school or prom or anything like that. These movies are nice to imagine the ‘might have been’s.”
Beatrice’s fingers ran through Ava’s hair again, scratching lightly at her scalp. “They’re not nearly as fun as they’re chalked up to being. I almost wished I hadn’t attended my prom.”
Ava looked back to Beatrice in disbelief.
“What, really? How come?”
Beatrice shrugged. “Lots of smelly, hormonal teenagers in one room, not nearly as good music as an 80s coming of age romcom. Then there’s the awkward awareness of your teachers watching you the whole time. I don’t really like dancing to begin with, much less when it’s supervised.”
“Did you go with anyone? What did your dress look like?” Ava asked in excitement. Beatrice scrunched up her face slightly making Ava want to reach out and smooth the crease between her eyebrows.
“I went with a boy name Trevor. He was from my boarding school’s brother school. He… We met a few times, while I was attending… He was like me.”
Beatrice’s eye drifted away for a moment before looking back to Ava, with a faint blush over her cheeks. Ava had noticed it was getting easier for Beatrice to talk about that part of herself and it made her feel so special being the one Beatrice chose to open up to. Albeit slowly and millimeters at a time – but Ava would gladly take whatever Beatrice offered.
Ava gave a reassuring squeeze to Beatrice’s hand, before lacing their fingers together.
“Lucky guy,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. Beatrice rolled her eyes at Ava, but let out a small chuckle.
She took a deep breath, “Lets see. My dress was this awful thing. My mother picked it out for me, and it was just as gaudy as she was. Had this truly godawful,” a quick sign of the cross, “frilly sash across the front. I think I’d rather face Adriel by myself than wear that thing again.”
Ava let out a laugh, felt her smile become mostly teeth listening to Beatrice’s dramatics.
“Well, I’m sure you looked hot in it either way, Bea.” And Ava delighted in the way Beatrice’s blush burned a little brighter.
“Right, well.” Beatrice cleared her throat. “To address your earlier comment: you didn’t miss out on much.” She smiled down at Ava, and it was one of Ava’s favorite smiles. It was quiet, understated, but held so much kindness. “Not really,” Beatrice finished in a whisper, fingers coming back up to trace across Ava’s forehead, down her cheek, thumbed at her jaw; cradling her.
Ava closed her eyes and hummed. The rain outside had picked up at this point, becoming louder and muffling the world around them; like most things, it was just Beatrice and Ava here. With eyes still closed, Ava let a ghost of a smile whisper across her face – content and sleepy.
“Still,” she sighed, mind drifting to declarations of love, songs she felt in the marrow of her bones, dancing with her crush under a disco ball – kissing under the street lamps. “It must have been nice.”
And it was only because her eyes were close and her mind was miles – lifetimes – away, that Ava missed the way Beatrice was staring at her: besotted, love-struck, and planning.
.
Ava had a feeling something was up a few days later.
The week itself had been just on the side of exhausting for Ava; one of the taps had broken behind the bar, she had to kick out a group of rowdy men who thought the place was a frat party, and on top of all that, Beatrice must have been practicing her stealth because Ava hardly ever saw her. Only when they were going to sleep, comfortably cramped in their single bed, did Ava manage to have time with Beatrice.
But even then, Ava could see something behind Beatrice’s eyes that was unfocused and somewhere else. Ava only hoped it wasn’t something she had said or did to upset her; she knew she could be a bit much, but Beatrice always seemed to put up with her.
Maybe it was the move with the popcorn? Not my finest moment, but can you really blame a girl? Desperate times, and all that.
So, Ava had politely taken a step back, wordlessly offered Beatrice space even though every part of Ava was screaming to cling tighter. Don’t leave me, she wanted to cry, but even that felt a bit too dramatic to Ava.
They had just laid down for the night when Beatrice turned to look at Ava.
“You should take the day off tomorrow.”
Ava’s brow quirked.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
Beatrice rolled her eyes.
“I’m serious, Ava. We haven’t heard anything on Adriel in weeks, I know you’ve been pulling extra hours at the bar, and you’ve been staying on top of your training. You should take more than just a morning in the pool. Go do something fun,” she said gently.
Ava turned to flop on her stomach, arms coming up to hug her pillow.
“Something fun? And what, pray tell Sister, would you consider that to be? Scaling a mountain?”
“I mean… yes.” Ava scoffed. “But – I don’t know. When was the last time you had a day to yourself? You could… get your hair cut, or perhaps a manicure?”
“Are you saying my hair looks bad?”
“I’m saying you’re insufferable and living here with you must be an atonement for all my sins,” Beatrice drawled, but snuck a foot across the bed when Ava guffawed, poking at her leg.
“Jesus your toes are cold.”
“Language.”
“Socks.”
Beatrice released a giggle that had Ava pressing a smile into her pillow.
“Why don’t you join me then? We can do something fun together. Have a mini day-cation or something.”
Beatrice stared at her for a heartbeat, her lips slightly parted and drawing Ava’s attention, before shaking her head. “I need to be at the bar tomorrow. We’re closing early for maintenance.”
Ava hummed, thinking it over and trying not to feel too disappointed. She looked over Beatrice’s face, taking in the way Beatrice’s expression was open and soft and Ava felt her soul sighing at those brown eyes.
“A mani does sound nice…” Ava began making the corner of Beatrice’s mouth curl. “And I have been meaning to cut my hair. I think it’s getting a little too long. What do you think?”
Beatrice reached forward, played with the ends of Ava’s hair, twisting it around her finger. Ava felt her breath stutter in her chest.
“I think you’ll look great with whatever you decide. Perhaps shorter could be a fresh start?”
Ava smiled. “Yeah?”
Beatrice stared at her; eyes warm.
“Mhm,” Beatrice hummed, pulled her hand back – left it on the mattress directly in the middle of herself and Ava.
Ava stared at her hand for a heartbeat – two, three – before sliding her own across the mattress, under Beatrice’s, laced their fingers together. Beatrice’s hand was warm and Ava squeezed – once, twice. Beatrice rubbed her thumb across Ava’s knuckles.
“Okay,” Ava whispered. Let her eyes drift closed. Felt light and safe and happy. Like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
They both fell asleep, still holding hands.
.
Once again, Beatrice was right.
Ava woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a note scrawled in Beatrice’s loopy cursive sitting on cardstock on the pillow next to her:
Ava -
Take the day. You’ve earned it.
I’ll see you tonight.
B
So Ava had snuggled back down into the warm blankets for another hour, relishing in the chance to be lazy and free of responsibilities for a day. Eventually, she rolled out of bed, and after tucking Beatrice’s note into one of her own journals, had gone to a salon in town to treat herself to a spa day. It was new to her – being pampered – but she wasted no time falling in love with how relaxed and nice it made her feel.
Oh yeah. Definitely doing this again. I will find time in between saving the world and punching demons in the face.
The sun was just beginning to sink below the mountaintops when Ava walked home. The air was balmy and sweet, Ava’s freshly cut hair was tickling just under her jaw; she felt pretty and normal and like a regular girl walking the cobbled streets of Switzerland. Like she didn’t have the weight of the world literally on her back.
I’ll have to think of some way to thank Bea. This was probably one of her best ideas yet.
Ava climbed the stairs to their apartment, grabbing the mail from their box on her way: Beatrice hadn’t been home yet, then.
The apartment was dark when she entered, but still she called out just in case, “Honey, I’m home!”
Silence.
Ava tossed the mail and her keys on the small side table they had by the door. Kicked her shoes off and padded into the rest of the apartment. Paused when she noticed flickering tealights lining the hallway. Her steps slowed, but she followed them with a pounding heart into the bedroom.
“Bea…?” Ava called, voice hitching in her throat.
Beatrice wasn’t here – but a long box was. It sat on the bed with a delicate bow tied on top and a simple piece of cardstock, the same kind from the note that morning. In loopy cursive that Ava would know anywhere, it read:
Wear me.
Ava’s bit her lip, and slowly pulled the end of the satin bow untying it. Took the top of the box off with gentle fingers.
“Oh,” she whispered.
It was a dress. The color was a light lavender that matched the ribbon on the box, and it was made of chiffon with lace embroidery. After a moment of recalibration, Ava reached out to trace it with her fingers, feeling how soft it was. Taking a deep breath, she lifted it from the box, hands trembling and heart racing, and it spilled out; was just long enough that it hit around her knees when she held it up against herself.
Ava felt like crying. It was beautiful.
Looking back in the box, she found a simple pair of beige heels. Ava shook her head, let a bewildered laugh slip out with a single tear. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, laughing some more.
Those bubbles were back.
Ava took out her phone and sent a quick text to Beatrice.
Ava [1:53]: omg they give you a massage during these things?????
Bea 💜 [2:13]: Sounds wonderful!
Ava [4:27]: check out the new do!!!!!
Ava [4:27]: attachment
Bea 💜 [4:30]: I love it! That’s a great length, Ava.
Ava [4:31]: 🥰🥰🥰💇🏻♀️💁🏻♀️💃🏻🤩
Ava [7:47]: bea??????
Ava [7:47]: i think we got reverse robbed
Ava [7:48]: someone left a really beautiful dress on the bed with a super vague note
Beatrice💜 [7:50]: Hmm.
Beatrice💜 [7:50]: Maybe you should do what it says.
Ava dressed herself, taking longer than usual due to her shaking fingers. The dress and shoes were a perfect fit. Of course they were if they were from who Ava assumed. Ava stared at herself in the full length mirror they had in the bedroom, smoothed her hands down the front of the dress, spun and twisted, watched the material flow with her.
She pressed the backs of her fingers to her cheeks, watched her eyes crinkle in the mirror from the force of her smile – was taken aback by how happy she looked.
But – of course she was this happy. It was Bea.
Ava took a deep breath, ran her fingers through her hair to fix it but stopped when she heard a knock at the front door. She stared for a moment in the direction of the door, before swallowing her nerves and walking on shaky feet.
Ava paused at the door. She could barely remember the last time she felt this nervous about something that wasn’t apocalyptic.
Is this how normal people feel? Like they might throw up because they love someone so much?
And – yeah. That was something, wasn’t it? Ava loved Beatrice. Had for sometime now. It was impossible not to fall for Beatrice; even more so after living with her nestled between the mountains. Ava felt lucky to be the one who got to see Beatrice in the mornings, when she was still sleepy and fresh-faced but already planning the day. To see her at night – cooking in front of the stove, reading a book curled up on the end of the couch, staring at the moon on clear nights.
Laying next to her in bed, armor doffed and face young.
Ava knew the privilege she had in knowing Beatrice. In getting to see her heart – hidden so far behind wall after wall. But, Ava had been patience, had resisted the urge to slam against the walls despite the pull she felt from the moment she met Beatrice.
Instead, she waited for Beatrice. Stood stalwart and true for her, offered her hand should Beatrice ever want it. And then, one day… Beatrice had opened the door. Decided to let Ava in.
It was a home Ava never had before, and one she held with gentle fingers and a full heart.
And now, standing in the home they built together in a corner of the world where no one knew them, Ava stood in front of her own door. She took a deep breath. Willed her feet to remain planted.
(Checked to make sure she really wasn’t floating.)
Opened the door.
Her smile quirked and became confused when a man was revealed to be standing on the other side. He was wearing a basic shirt and jeans, and was a stranger to Ava. She tilted her head and opened her mouth to ask him who he was, when he held out another piece of cardstock.
Ava stared at it for a moment, biting her lip. Until she reached forward and took the card from the man.
Follow me.
P.S. Don’t forget your keys.
The same loopy cursive. Ava huffed a laugh and shook her head, but reached over to the small table and grabbed her keys. Turned back to the man.
“Alright, buddy. Looks like I have to follow you?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Right this way, miss.”
He turned without another word and walked back down the stairs. Ava stared after him for a moment before shaking her head once more and following him, but not before locking up behind her.
Ava didn’t know what to expect when she stepped out of their building, but a small rickshaw was not it. It had a single bike in the front, and the mystery man was already sat in his seat, waiting for Ava to board. The carriage was small and covered by a hood that was open on the sides. There were fairy lights strung across the roof of the carriage and lights on the spokes of the wheels.
Ava felt her breath catch. Had to pause and look up at the moon; took a deep breath, trying to drink in the moment. She knew in her heart that this night was about to become one of her favorite memories, and she wanted to cling to every moment with shaking hands. Wanted to crack open her ribs and hide it within her heart.
With a smile, she stepped into the carriage and sat down on the bench. As the man checked over his shoulder to ensure Ava was set before pushing into the street, Ava pressed her knuckles into her smile, biting down gently.
She had no idea where she was going, or what Beatrice had planned, but her heart fluttered like a wild butterfly.
The wind was gentle and warm, dancing through her hair and cooling the flush against her cheeks. Ava leaned against the side of the carriage, watching the people on the streets pass her by, each one in their own worlds, experiencing their own nights. Ava spent a heartbeat thinking about each one, hoping they had someone in their lives that made them feel as much as Beatrice made her feel. She gazed at the stars above and released a lovestruck sigh.
A few minutes into the ride Ava felt her smile become confused as the streets around them became more familiar. She tilted her head, mentally mapped out where they were in the town.
If we make a left at this next street…
They did. The rickshaw driver slowed to a stop and Ava was already staring at the building in front of her.
Bar La Vasseur.
Of course: leave it to Beatrice to find a way to drag her back to work on her day off. The man looked back to Ava and she suddenly felt unsure.
“Oh, uh. Do I need to…?”
The man gave her a small smile and shook his head. “No, miss. Everything has already been taken care of. Enjoy the rest of your evening; it’s been a pleasure.”
Ava stepped down from the carriage and watched him bike away from her. Subtly wiped her clammy palms on her dress – instantly regretted the action and checked to make sure she didn’t ruin the fabric.
When she made sure she didn’t, she plucked the remainder of her courage and turned to the bar. It was almost completely dark behind the windows, save for a smattering of dim lights across the floor, and Ava could see the chairs and stools stacked on top of the tables. She looked toward the door.
Another piece of cardstock.
Unlock me.
Ava had to try twice to unlock the door, missing the keyhole on the first attempt. Stepping inside, the lights turned out to be more tealights, their artificial flames a warm yellow. They once again made a trail that Ava followed to the bar top.
Among clusters of tealights sat a single box – plastic this time. It held a white flower attached to a ribbon that matched the one from the dress’ box, as well as the color of her dress. It looked beautiful and delicate and Ava felt her heart breaking. Another note:
If you wouldn’t mind putting this on and then joining me?
When you’re ready.
X
Ava shook her head in disbelief. She had been ready from the beginning. But – she opened the container, closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of the flower… slipped the corsage onto her right wrist. It looked lovely against her dress. Ava rubbed her sternum with her fingertips, willed her heart not to beat out of her chest.
A noise above her caught her attention. It started soft, and Ava had to focus to hear it over the pounding in her ears. It sounded like music, coming from the storage room above the bar: Beatrice’s little hideaway office.
The same one she hadn’t been allowed to enter in the last week.
Ava narrowed her eyes but had no control over her smile. Excitement thrummed through her as she grabbed the railing and began walking up the stairs. She felt like the opposite of Cinderella: Ava would not descend a grand staircase into a party of strangers, but would instead rise to meet the woman she loved so much it hurt. Each step felt like coming home, and Ava no longer hesitated when she reached the final door.
She opened it, with a steady hand and eyes already looking for Beatrice.
Though, Ava probably should have taken a moment to catch her breath. Because when she did find Beatrice, standing in the middle of the cleared-out room illuminated by hundreds of candles, wearing her own dress – olive green and beautiful – with her hair braided to the side, cascading over her shoulder… the air was knocked out from her.
“Bea,” she whispered.
Beatrice smiled at her – bashful and earnest and wide-eyed – and Ava watched her chest raise, pause, and then fall.
“Hello, Ava.”
Ava closed the door behind her, couldn’t help but lean back against it as her knees were so weak. It felt like she could topple over at a single moment; she was absolutely wrecked by Beatrice. By her heart, her beauty, her kindness. By the simple fact that they were two people who happened to exist at the same time, in the same place. Brought together by a miracle, by a choice.
Surrounded by candles and … Simple Minds?
Ava laughed when the song changed around them, and Beatrice let her own smile grow. Answered Ava’s quirked eyebrow, “I YouTubed the soundtracks. You were right: they do slap.”
Ava laughed louder, suddenly felt silly for being so nervous.
It was Beatrice.
She pushed off the door and walked slowly to meet Beatrice in the middle of the room. They never took their eyes off each other, and Ava could see the candles reflecting in Beatrice’s brown eyes. Felt herself falling in love, over and over and over again.
Ava came to a stop in front of Beatrice, her heels making them almost eye-level, and Beatrice took a sharp breath.
“Bea,” Ava began again. “This is…” she trailed off, lost for words.
Beatrice’s smile melted.
“This is your prom.”
Ava almost stumbled backwards. Felt her eyes burn, burn, burn.
“Well,” Beatrice continued, eyes flicking across the room. “As close as I could get it while being limited to a storage room above a small bar in the middle of nowhere while trying to remain undercover. There’s pink lemonade over there, and some pastries from that bakery you love. I know it’s not the exact prom experience you were hoping for, but –”
Ava reached forward, grabbed Beatrice’s hand – tried to stop the subtle trembling.
“It’s perfect, Bea,” she whispered, awe coating her voice. “Thank you.”
Beatrice looked at her, and then nodded.
“You didn’t ask for this life. You were robbed of your previous one. You deserve to be happy and experience this world. I know…” a shuddering breath. “I know we cannot guarantee anything. Not in our world. But. I wanted to give you this. At least one night that’s yours.”
“Ours.” Beatrice looked to Ava with wide eyes – open and vulnerable. Ava squeezed her hand, smiled. “This is our night.”
Beatrice’s throat bobbed. Ava stared as Beatrice wetted her lips, before they curled at the edges.
“Ours,” Beatrice agreed.
Ava’s grin was a slow as the sunrise, and she felt it burning just as bright.
“You look beautiful, by the way.” Ava took a step back, holding Beatrice’s hand up, and gave her a once over – winked when she met Beatrice’s burning face. “I got the prettiest prom date, hell yeah.”
“Language,” Beatrice quipped, but it held no fire – was impossible to when Beatrice was so bashful and smitten. Ava grinned and grinned, pulled Beatrice toward her, giving her a spin in the middle of the floor making Beatrice laugh and shriek with delight.
The music around them continued to change as they danced around stacked chairs and tables pushed to the side of the room. There were crates of beer, and an old rug that had one too many questionable stains on it, and the moon shining big and bright from behind the small window. They had work in the morning, and a war against a fallen angel on the horizon; so many destinies and fates woven into the stars above them, too many not to feel crushed under the weight of them.
But most importantly, they had each other.
Ava pulled Beatrice closer to her, hands steady and sure on her hips. Beatrice threw her head back, laughed and looked so young, so light and free that Ava had to hold on tighter lest she be blown away. She gave Beatrice another spin, pulled her back and dropped her into a dip, smiling so hard – feeling so happy – it was beginning to hurt.
The music changed into something softer and slower. Ava pulled Beatrice up from the dip and they stood in front of each other, breathing heavy and deep. Beatrice brought her hand up, brushed Ava’s hair back behind her ear. Ghosted down her jawline, making her skin prickle and warming her belly.
“Your hair does look really lovely,” Beatrice said, almost out of breath.
Ava stared at her, let her eyes trace her face and dip down to stare at Beatrice’s lips. Let out a sigh that held so much longing she felt like she should have been embarrassed – but she saw the way Beatrice’s throat bobbed. Because, after all, she had been living with Beatrice for the last weeks, had fought by her side, had won and lost and mourned and grew with her. Had held her hand, cleaned her cuts, comforted her after her nightmares. Laughed with her and experienced a joy she never thought she’d ever get the chance to feel.
Ava had seen Beatrice. Had known her.
“I love you,” and it came out quiet but Ava felt like she was being heard the first time in her life. “I love you, Bea,” she repeated. Because she could. “Thank you. For tonight. For every other night. For whatever happens next. I just…” Ava shook her head.
Beatrice’s hand came up, brushed the backs of her knuckled down Ava’s cheek. Ava tilted her head, pressed a kiss against Beatrice’s fingers. Reached out, slid her hand across Beatrice’s back. Beatrice took a step closer until they were flushed against each other.
“No room for the Lord?” Ava couldn’t resist saying, making Beatrice roll her eyes.
“You’re lucky I’m so in love with you,” Beatrice replied, staring at Ava's smile.
And before Ava could reply, could agree, Beatrice leaned forward and pressed her lips to Ava’s.
It was soft and slow, just like the music around them, and so perfect that Ava could feel her heart shattering, felt her fingers tighten and dig into Beatrice. Pulled her closer, tilted her head, let her mouth spill open with a sigh. Met Beatrice’s tongue with her own, wet and slick. Beatrice’s hand came up and cradled Ava’s jaw, could probably feel the thundering of Ava’s heart under her palms.
They pulled back with a gasp, keeping their foreheads against each other. In a flash, Ava pressed back in, deepening the kiss, turning it more desperate, more hungry. Her hand came up and cupped the back of Beatrice’s head, pulling her closer.
If you leave, don’t leave now
Please don’t take my heart away
Promise me just one more night
Then we’ll go our separate ways
Ava pulled back, letting out a loud and unrestrained laugh at the song. Beatrice gave her a smile, and Ava felt her face burn, burn, burn.
“I love you, Ava” Beatrice whispered.
Ava bit her lip, felt the bubbles and butterflies fill her from her toes up.
She leaned back in, pressing a gentle kiss to Beatrice’s lips before she was smiling too much for it to even count as kissing. Let the moment wash over her, sweeping her off her feet.
Raised her fist in the air.
Take that, John Hughes.