lilithswhore



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    There it is, on her right, just outside of the window. A tiny yard. A birch tree. A crooked porch. A house barely bigger than the shotgun houses she used to see in New Orleans, white paint chipping away to reveal the brick beneath. She has seen it so many times, this house—on the retail website, touring it with an agent, signing the papers for insurance—but never like this. Never when it’s hers.

    She looks back to Jane, whose expression is so soft that August really does feel like an angel. “We’re home,” Jane says, and those damn crepe myrtles bloom between August’s ribs again.

    ”We’re home,” she agrees.

    ——

    Or, August and Jane finally get that house, and they both have some feelings about it.

    Also this is my 69th fic so y’all are legally obligated to read it.

    Language:
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    14 Jan 2026