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Inarticulate Love-notes

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Lydia did not count the days until she knew she was in love with Allison. She didn’t reckon the time between when she first met her and she first asked her into her bed. She didn’t bother to consider their transition from friends to lovers. Instead, she did what came into her head to do. When she first met Allison, she knew it was an opportunity – and it was, as well as a friendship. When she first realised that her appreciation for Allison’s body had become more physical than aesthetic, she sat on the feeling until Allison was happy alone and not thinking about this boy or that. When she first kissed Allison, the other girl had woken up after a nightmare and Lydia was roused from her own doziness. She pulled herself up Allison’s ridiculously large bed, put her arms around the other girl and rocked her out of her nightmare-panic. And then she kissed her – because it seemed natural, normal, the right thing to do.

And Allison hadn’t said a word, just kissed her right back. She let her lie them down together on the bed, curled their hands together, laid back when Lydia rolled over, threw her head back when Lydia moved down and bent herself according to Lydia’s instructions. It wasn’t so much apathy as tired understanding – this is what they did now. The first time was a fluke, and most times after that they never progressed beyond simple kisses – rarely even progressing to the makeout stage, but Lydia was okay with that.

It never really needed to be said: “Hey, Allison, I know we’ve been friends through several breakups, more near-death experiences than any two people should have and the utter destruction of both ours worlds many times over, but at the end of the day you’re still beautiful and I still wanna fuck you and also kind of love you, but I haven’t worked that one out yet.”

As if that was going to go down well.

And yet here they are. The door is locked, the father is away, and the music is playing softly in the background (their life is like a horror movie sometimes and a coming-of-age one other times, it has to be said). It starts with Lydia putting down her book and looking up at Allison from her place on the far end of the bed. Allison’s supposed to be studying, but she hasn’t changed a page in several minutes, and Lydia’s caught her glancing at her several times. Either her page is really boring, really interesting or….

She sits up and twists over, lies down next to Allison and looks at whatever she’s reading before dismissing it, both mentally and physically ¬– that is to say, she literally picks it up out of Allison’s hand and places it down on the floor, before rolling onto her stomach and looking up at her. Eventually, Allison will understand that each look is 100% calculated, but for now she’s still caught up in the way Lydia deliberately drops her gaze from Allison’s eyes, to her lips, to her chest, the little bit of skin revealed on her midriff by the way she’s sitting and then her legs. Lydia lets a little smirk crawl onto her face and Allison’s breath quickens and she bites her lower lip, still sometimes a little shy.

Lydia takes the opportunity to pull herself up, spread Allison’s legs down from their curled up position and pull herself over the other girl, looking at her for a second before leaning down to press their lips together. Allison’s immediately receptive, and straightaway curls her arms around Lydia’s waist, pulling her closer. Lydia smiles against her lips and slides one hand down her side until she reaches the top of her skirt, where she curls around her hips and then down her legs, sliding herself until she is between them, with Allison’s legs almost curled around her. She can’t help but smile at the way that each movement is natural between them now, Allison turning her head just as Lydia moves down to her neck, kissing down to the top of her chest and then sitting back up, looking at her.

Allison is flushed bright red, and her chest is heaving and her eyes dark, but she has a smile on her face and when she reaches out her hands, they’re inviting. Lydia leans back just a little further and reaches back to start to unzip her dress, not missing the way Allison’s eye drop down a few degrees when she bends her back to reach a particularly hard spot. For her part, Allison’s making quick work of her clothes, reaching out to pull Lydia back down to her when they’re a little less clothed, sliding her hands down to pull off her tights even as she wriggles out of her own leggings, and Lydia wants to laugh at her eagerness, but instead she just plays along, helping Allison out of the last of her own clothes and kissing down the column of her neck to the swell of her breast, sliding hands down her skin and pressing kiss and kiss across Allison’s body.

It doesn’t take long for Allison’s breathy little gasps to become something deeper and more visceral, and when it does she pulls Lydia back up to kiss her, curling around her hand and pulling her down and closer, clutching at skin wherever she can find it and filling lungs with breath to be spent on slow moans. Lydia crowds in closer to her, presses kiss after to kiss to her neck and smiles at this – that somehow they managed to find something that has them both happy and sated, lovers and loving, and yeah, she worked it out in the end-

-but Allison is clutching at her skin and her chest is heaving even more and she lets go with one deep breath. Her eyes fly open and she looks over at Lydia as she catches her breath, pulling her back over to lazily kiss her again, waiting until she regains a bit of energy, and she smiles and mutters “God, I love you. You make me so happy and I love you,” and Lydia thinks “knew it ages ago,” but she smiles and returns the fact.