new beginnings; rebirth; forgiveness.
Warm flesh, hurried kisses, accelerated heart rates. The door handle is a painful pressure against her back, but Alex ignores it, chooses instead to focus on the hands touching her, the mouth that’s on hers, that’s making its way across her jaw, her neck. The fingers that are pulling clothes from her body with an uncharacteristic desperation. As if Liz just can’t wait.
Alex had returned to New York three days ago, the city around her a familiar yet foreign thing. She’d wanted to wait before contacting anyone, wanted to settle back into her old routine before she became Alex again. And yet here she is, already at Liz’s door. Liv and Elliot—she can’t yet. Doesn’t know how. But this… this is easy. Her body craves Elizabeth like nothing else; the desire one she hadn’t been able to bury. Not when seeing her became a possibility.
Back from the undead, Liz had joked, had tried to joke, and Alex had smiled, but she’d understood. Had seen the flicker of emotion behind Liz’s eyes; had felt it all mirrored in her own body. The relief, the shock. The gratification.
It’d only been a few steps between that and this.
“Alexandra,” Liz groans, and it sends a shiver down Alex’s spine, sends something warm through her chest. Her name—she’s wanted nothing more than to hear it for months, now. To remember who she is, was. To hear it in that tone, that voice, to have it come from that mouth.
Her breath hitches, her body melting against her lover’s. Liz’s hand curls around the back of her neck, uses the pressure to guide Alex forward, back through familiar halls. It’s easy to fall into it, their old habits. Easy for Alex to let go, give in. To succumb to everything she’s spent the last few years dreaming about.