Our secret moments in your crowded room
The party downstairs was the last thing on Mor’s mind. She turned in a circle, taking in every detail of the room. She felt as though she had been given a precious glimpse into Selene’s life and she was not going to waste it. Books were scattered on the shelves, arranged more by personal preference and sentimental value, rather than any logical system, sheet music covered the table and nightstands, and various fur coats and knit sweaters were draped over the backs of chairs. It was so her , Mor thought with a smile.
“We really have to go back,” Selene repeated. “They’ll notice we’re gone.”
Mor turned around to face the woman who was standing in the doorway of the room, her hand extended towards her beloved. She looked breathtaking. She always did, but there was something about Selene—her chestnut hair wild and unbound, cascading around her shoulders, eyes wide and sparkling, ivory skin reflecting the light almost like the satellite she was named after—that made Mor feel overcome with a rush of emotion. “Let them notice.”
They’ve got no idea about me and you
She watched, utterly transfixed, as Selene laughed at something her friend had said. The sound was like wind chimes blowing in the wind and Mor knew that she could listen to Selene’s tinkling laugh for the rest of eternity and never get bored. She was dazzling.
As if reading her thoughts, Selene turned and gave her a conspiratorial smile before turning back to the other Winter Court fae. It lasted for the briefest moment but Mor was already shaking her head and laughing to herself. She turned her attention towards Selene’s friends. They were complimenting Selene on the party she had thrown for her sister’s birthday and chatting about silly things like the decorations and the design of the invitations.
Mor felt Selene move so that the back of her hand brushed against her own and an electric current rushed through her at the contact. Selene didn’t turn to look at her, but she hooked her pinky finger with Mor’s and squeezed it quickly three times. Morrigan instantly looked around to see if anyone had noticed, and she felt Selene start to let go of her finger after noticing her reaction. She didn’t let her let go.
All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation, my hands are shaking from holding back from you
She watched from the side of the room as the fae male twirled Selene around and caught her into his arms. He was no one—just a random Winter Court fae Viviane had introduced her sister too. They were only being friendly, but it hurt to watch her dance and embrace someone so openly without worrying who might see. She wanted that for her. She wanted Selene to be happy with whoever she was and not to hide her relationship from the most important people in her life, but she couldn’t offer her that. Not yet.
Cassian turned his head and followed her gaze. His eyes softened in understanding and he wrapped an arm around Mor’s shoulders. “Let’s go get more wine, old sport, and then we’ll show these amateurs on the dance floor how it’s done.”
Mor’s lips quirked up in spite of herself and she leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder and closed her eyes for a second before they both headed for the bar.
Say my name and everything just stops
They closed the door behind them and Mor barely had time to twist the key and lock it before Selene collided with her. Her kisses were fevered and desperate and Mor responded in kind, tangling her hand in the soft curls at Selene’s neck and brushing her lips against her own. Selene’s hands were shaking, and she fisted her fingers in the fabric around Mor’s waist and pulled her closer.
Mor’s hands caressed Selene’s waist, ribs, the bare skin of her arms, and she parted her lips with of tongue wanting— needing —to taste her. Selene opened up instinctively and when she their tongues brushed, she made the most delicious sound in the back of her throat—a sound of pure longing.
Mor pecked the corner of Selene’s mouth, and trailed her lips to the underside of her jaw, and to the slim column of her neck. She was drunk off the taste of her skin, high off the intoxicating aroma. She sucked on a sensitive spot above Selene’s collarbone and her lover’s hands flew to the back of Mor’s head as she moaned her name.
I don’t want you like a best friend
Mor detached and looked into Selene’s blue eyes. She raised her hand to cup her cheek, her thumb smoothing over the soft skin of her cheekbone. Their eyes held all the promises and confessions that they had never dared speak aloud, but Mor hadn’t felt this way in a long time, and she had thought she’d never feel this way again so she needed her to know. She needed to say it.
“I know.” Selene brushed the tips of her fingers over Morrigan’s mouth. “I know. You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready.” In her eyes, Mor found more understanding than she thought she would ever receive.
Only bought this dress so you could take it off
They stumbled over to the bed and collapsed together on top of the silk sheets. They were a mess of tangled limbs and starved hearts, alone and together at last. They both struggled to breathe, as if their love and passion was a flame, burning all the oxygen out of the room.
They slowed, and Selene’s gaze was tentative as she regarded Mor. She slid her fingers under the strap of Mor’s dress and cupped her shoulder. She brushed her thumb over her collarbone in soothing circles and looked at Mor before going further.
“Is this okay?”
“Selene,” Mor said, her voice thick. “I’m yours.”
Inescapable, I’m not even going to try and if we get burned, at least we were electrified
It was all-consuming, what they had. She felt Cauldron-blessed for having Selene in her life; she felt blessed for being unconditionally accepted and loved. They were as close as they could be—flesh against flesh, breaths mingling together—and it still didn’t feel close enough, but for the first time in a long time, Morrigan felt truly alive.
I’m spilling wine in the bathtub, you kiss my face and we’re both drunk
Selene laughed and splashed more foamy water at Mor. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol but her eyes were still bright. Mor put a hand on her ankle and tugged, making Selene slide further down into the bathtub. Water splashed over the sides, and Selene let out the most unladylike snort which only caused her to laugh harder, absolutely no shade of embarrassment on her face. Selene was entirely and unapologetically herself, and Mor adored her for it.
At once, Selene stopped laughing and Mor knew she had been caught staring. Selene fake-gasped, a cheeky smile on her face, and leaned forward in the tub. “Love, I think you might be running a fever!”
“Maybe I’m slowly starting to boil in this bathtub because of the ridiculous temperature you keep the water at. Like a lobster in a pot,” Mor teased back. Selene shook her head, trying to look serious.
“No, that can’t be it. I’m sure you’re running a fever.” She put a hand on Mor’s forehead but her eyes never left hers. “Yes, I was right. You’re really, really, really hot right now,” she declared, waggling her eyebrows. Mor laughed and swatted Selene’s hand away.
“What’s the diagnosis?”
Selene bit her lip so as not to smile before saying in a sing-song voice: “you’re loooooovesick.” Both women were grinning broadly, and their noses were only inches apart. “There is only one cure.”
Mor was cut off by Selene’s lips pressing against her own—her lips were always so soft! It was a sweet kiss, barely more than a peck, but Selene dragged it out and made it feel like pure electricity. She drew back and leaned against her side of the tub, a soft smile on her face. “You’re cured now.”
Mor shook her head slowly. “Not even close, Sel.”
Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me
Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me
Mor knocked on the door and tried to keep her hands from shaking. She felt like she was going to vomit. The door opened, and Mor saw Selene’s face sober up when she took her in. She knew how she must have looked: pale, sickly skin, desperate eyes and messy hair.
“Come in,” was all Selene said. She led Mor to the bed, sat down next to her and interlocked their fingers, staring at their hands while Mor was looking straight ahead into nothingness. She didn’t busy herself with offering a blanket or a cup of tea or even asking what Mor needed. She didn’t embrace Mor, or ask her to talk about what had happened. She was simply there. And that was all Mor needed.
Mor wanted to speak. She wanted to explain to her why she had done it even though she’d explained herself before. She knew Selene didn’t approve—only because she thought it was harmful to Mor—but that she’d never judge. She couldn’t bring herself to really talk about it. All she felt was emptiness, and sadness, and confusion. She wondered if maybe she should have stayed away from Selene, to spare her from all the mess. She couldn’t bare even thinking of being away from her.
“It was Helion,” was all Mor said. Selene started rubbing soothing circles on Mor’s wrist and kept quiet. Mor didn’t need her to say anything.
They stayed like that in silence for a while, but their silence spoke louder than any words:
You’re not a bad person.
I see what is underneath.
And I love it.
I love you.
Every single piece of you.
Mor heard and felt the words with every stroke of Selene’s fingers against her wrist. She felt them every single time Selene was simply there for her when Mor showed up unexpected in the middle of the night. She felt them when Selene kept their love quiet for her sake, even though Mor knew she was ready to shout it to the world. She felt them when Selene didn’t ever leave her.
And Mor’s heart beat the same rhythm back to her: I love you. I love you. I love you.