Chapter Text
There’s a light on in the apartment next to Miorine’s. It’s not unusual this early in the morning – no, Miorine’s neighbour is both a student and an athlete. As such, she’s awake in the earliest infancy of the day, when the birds are chirping, the other neighbours are blissfully unstirred in their slumber, and Miorine is finally getting to sleep.
Miorine’s neighbour gets home late often, tucked snugly into her Asticassia University hoodie while Miorine is still recovering from work. In the morning, Miorine spies her red hair, tied in a low ponytail with a hairband keeping the less obedient strands tucked away as she leaves for her daily run, her muscles impossibly eye-catching, and Miorine once again tries to convince herself that she isn’t a creep for paying this much attention to a woman she’s never spoken to in her life.
Yet on this morning, the light is on when it shouldn’t be.
Miorine had missed the sound of the door opening and the cheery bounce in her step that signals her neighbour is leaving for her run. So, she crawls over to the slit in her door, and spies that she hasn’t left yet.
It’s confounding because she has maintained this routine every day, without fail, in all the months since Miorine has taken her new job and moved as far away as she could from her lousy father. And every day, Miorine has spied her neighbour through the old cans and dirty clothes that litter her windowsill, looking far too energetic and cheery for the time of day, and that had been her reminder to go to sleep.
Miorine stares at her door for a moment, almost begging it to open.
Then, she pads over to her bedroom.
The walls in their building have always been thin – it’s never been an irritant to Miorine, who has never bothered with friends and lacks a close family to have anybody to invite over, but in this moment, it proves to be her undoing.
From the other side of the wall, where she knows the student with red hair and toned muscles must sleep, she hears a stream of sobs that just barely penetrate the threshold of their shared wall.
For what feels like an eternity, Miorine just stands there.
Fleetingly, she wonders if she should check up on her.
But that would be troublesome. She doesn’t need attachments to this city that has only kept her chained down and strangled her, not while she’s saving up to move to the countryside. Besides, she doesn’t even know her name – would the woman really want some stranger barging into her room when she’s breaking down?
Still, Miorine lingers. There’s a potent draw, an almost ethereal temptation, telling her to go after the woman. She tries in vain to tear her eyes from the door, to rid herself of the notion that this can lead to anything but trouble, but it lingers in her brain like a tune.
So, she balances precariously, in between what is, in all honesty, an inconsequential decision, but feels like it could shift her world.
She deliberates anxiously, hands ghosting over her doorhandle – when had she moved? She doesn’t remember, but she knows it feels right. She goes to turn the handle-
Then, she’s ripped away from the world.
Miorine wakes from her dream with a jump, brain startled into activity from an impossibly shrill noise.
She shoots up in her bed, hand instinctively darting to her left to find Suletta. She only sits up when she comes up empty.
“What is-“
“M-Miorine!” Suletta shouts, and oh. She suspects that explains the shrill noise. “Thank goodness you’re awake!”
“Why are you yelling, Suletta?” Miorine rubs at her eyes as she yawns, hoping desperately that whatever has her wife this energetic will let her fit in a couple more hours of sleep before Sabina picks her up.
“L-look!” Suletta cries, and Miorine supposes she has to face the light eventually.
She cracks her eyes open slowly and delicately, almost flinching when she catches sight of how early it is through the window. She turns to face Suletta, resisting the urge to scold her.
Suletta sits on the floor beneath their bed, cowering behind the frame and staring in terror at the foot of the covers.
“Oh, did you lose your crutches again? Here, let me-“
“Don’t get up!” Suletta yells, and at that Miorine does flinch. Her brain is much too foggy to deal with this volume.
“Suletta, please stop yelling.”
“S-sorry, Miorine. I just…” She points at the foot of the bed.
Miorine tracks the site of disaster. She follows the wreckage of their sheets, arranged so immaculately but now thrown away in Suletta’s haste. She sees the book she had been reading last night, page hopelessly lost when it had gotten tangled in the mess.
Miorine sighs forlornly at the loss of her progress.
Then, at the edge of the bed, Miorine sees a spider.
“It was just sitting there when I woke up!” Suletta cries. Her hands are clenching their sheets, visibly shaking. Miorine slides a hand over them, instinctively rubbing circles into her skin and trying her best to spread the immense warmth that her wife makes her feel.
“I suppose Mercury must not have spiders.” Miorine rubs her eyes with her other hand, shaking off the sleep.
“Is that what it is?” Suletta doesn’t dare tear her eyes from the arachnid, though she’s stopped clenching the bed and begun holding tightly onto Miorine’s hand.
Miorine hums. “They’re common on Earth. They make their homes on some plants and use them to spin their webs, where they catch and eat other creatures."
“It looks so… scary.” The spider shifts as she says it, though it otherwise remains still. “Are they dangerous?”
“Some are,” Miorine nods. “Though, this one appears to be harmless.”
Suletta sighs in relief.
“I haven’t studied up on them in a while, however. For all we know, it could be extremely venomous.”
Suletta gawks. Her eyes slowly find the spider again, an abject horror spreading over her face like a cloud passing over the sun.
“Could you keep an eye on it for a moment?” Miorine pats her hand gently.
“Y-you’re leaving me with it? I-is that a good idea, Mio?” Suletta stutters.
Miorine rolls her eyes at the nickname. “Well, we don’t want it to disappear on us.” She presses her lips to Suletta’s temple, giving her a sloppy, terribly unromantic peck. “You’ll be fine. My groom has handled much worse, hasn’t she?”
Suletta closes her eyes, and when she opens them, she’s full of resolve. “You’re right, Mio! I’ll do my part!” She salutes.
Miorine rolls her eyes again as she leaves the comfort of the bed. It’s accompanied by a blush this time, because even when she’s doing something as mundane as watching over a spider, Suletta’s constant heroism has Miorine weak at the knees.
She doesn’t bother concealing the sound of the door opening, nor of her steps down the hallway. She figures if Elnora and Ericht can sleep through Suletta’s shrieks, they can sleep through anything.
The kitchen is miraculously empty, with only the perpetually full bowl of tomatoes they keep on the counter taking up any space. Suletta is the only one who cleans this diligently, which means it’s also her turn to pick the next movie they all watch together.
Miorine lets out a sigh as she rummages through their drawers. She would sit through a thousand cheesy action movies to see Suletta as giddy as she gets on those nights, regardless of how she feels about their quality.
She resolves to leave her inevitable scathing critiques until after the movie, to reward the bravery of her groom.
She selects a little-used glass they own before proceeding to her study. From a drawer in her desk, she pulls a blank piece of paper. Satisfied with her selection, she strides back to their room.
Suletta still sits where Miorine had left her, gaze fixated on the spider, though the terrified lines on her face have faded in favour of a more curious look. Where she had been cowering behind the frames of the bed, now she rests her head on the mattress, head tilted cutely as she watches.
For its part, the spider hasn’t moved.
Suletta’s head snaps up when Miorine enters the room. “Miorine! I can’t let you kill Mr. Crawls!”
Miorine’s eye twitches. “What did you just call it?”
“I-I’m serious!” Suletta flushes.
Miorine shakes her head and resists the urge to kiss her idiot bride. “I’m not going to kill the spider, Suletta.”
“Oh. You’re not?”
Miorine opens their window, letting the dewdrops of dawn fall upon her skin. The air is cool and clean and nothing at all like the artificial atmosphere of Asticassia, and Miorine lets it fill her nostrils. It’s like a cool bath in an ocean spring, dousing her in natural refreshment. She wonders what about space could be so appealing, to leave all of this behind.
“Mr. Crawls,” she grits out the nickname, “is just looking for his home.”
Then she turns to the spider and traps it against their bed under the glass. While it stirs, Miorine slips the piece of paper under both the glass and the spider. With her hand under the paper, Miorine lifts the makeshift contraption, bringing the spider up with her hand as she stands.
“You’re amazing,” Suletta breathes.
Miorine does her best not to blush.
The spider bumps against the glass. “Almost done,” Miorine placates.
She moves over to the open window, where she releases the temporary prison. The spider drops to the grass outside where it scurries away instantly, disappearing into the brush of their lawn.
Miorine watches as the wind dances with the blades of grass, and the beams of sunlight paint their world.
There’s a clack against their wooden floorboards, signalling Suletta has begun moving. Miorine feels a warmth against her side, and then Suletta is leaning against the windowsill with her, her crutches resting against the wall and her arm wrapped tightly around Miorine’s waist.
“Told you,” Miorine grumbles as she turns her face into Suletta’s neck. Suletta has always run cold, on account of Mercury’s stifling heat. But since they’ve moved in together, Miorine has grown addicted to the little pinpricks of warmth their contact brings her.
“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” Suletta giggles.
“Of course not,” Miorine tells her indignantly. “I’m your bride, after all.”
Suletta turns her face away from the dawn to let out a laugh into the top of Miorine’s head. In response, Miorine snuggles closer.
“What if he comes back?” Suletta whispers into her scalp.
“Then I’ll send him home again,” Miorine whispers back. “You were the one who taught me to never give up, after all.”
Suletta hums, and in the rising sun, Miorine sees how the light paints her skin a golden brown and makes her hair shine. She sees how the scars on her face are illuminated by the dawn and her eyes seem to glimmer, and she wonders, for what feels like the thousandth time, how she got this lucky.
She runs her hands over the scars on her face and presses her lips delicately against each one. For her part, Suletta holds her closer and closer, and Miorine pledges to never leave her side again.
There’s a sight Miorine never expected to see at her work when she next comes in.
Technically, she doesn’t truly have a workplace – she values art pieces, which means she does find herself at galleries and museums like the one she’s in now – though usually locked away in the dusty recesses of the back rooms, calculating risks, determining authenticity, and pricing artworks belonging to rich pigs like her father.
Regardless, today she isn’t locked in the back, nor is she forced into stuffy, self-important auction houses as is often the case. She’s finished all the work she can stomach for today, and while it’s late, it’s not even close to dark out, and Miorine can’t bear to return home and hear those strangled sobs through the wall that she had heard in the morning.
She wanders out to the gallery on display, deciding to waste as much time as she can before she heads home.
Her plans backfire when, in the sea of people who have come to view the gallery, in between a stuffy know-it-all with a stick up his ass and a far too obnoxious family of three, Miorine spots her neighbour, staring up at some of the art on display.
The first thing she notices is that she fits right in among the pieces in the gallery. Her hair has been left down – a first to see, at least for Miorine, and she’s in a pair of baggy trousers and a loose hoodie, and yet Miorine can’t help but think that she just belongs.
Then Miorine has to slap herself, because, again, she does not know this woman, despite the irrational whispering in her brain that she does.
Then her eyes drift to the artwork her neighbour is staring at, an imposing yet magnificent sculpture of a robot with a gun and a shield, standing at almost double her neighbour’s height and built from metal and scraps the author, Nanaura, had collected herself.
Miorine pulls out the guide she had snagged from the entrance and flicks through the pages until she finds the name of the piece.
Aerial, she reads. Something Nanaura calls a, ‘Mobile Suit.’
In the briefest of moments, Miorine thinks she can see her neighbour in the cockpit of the Aerial, flying among an ocean of stars.
The moment is gone, and yet Miorine is left staring at her neighbour, unable to tear her eyes away.
“Hey,” a severe voice sounds from beside her.
Miorine turns to face the person who dared to bother her. She sees a woman standing at around her height, with obnoxious pink hair and face drawn tightly in anger.
“What do you want?” Miorine asks indignantly.
“What do I want?” The girl laughs, “I just wanted to ask why you’ve been staring at my friend for the past minute like some crazy stalker.”
“I have not been staring.”
“Uh, yes you have, Princess.”
“Princess?” Miorine responds, her voice raising in both volume and pitch. “Just where do you get-“
“Chuchu!” There’s a new voice in the fray, but this one is vaguely familiar. When she looks to her side, Miorine sees her neighbour, looking flustered and confused. “W-why are you picking f-fights here?”
“It’s not my fault this crazy lady was staring at you, Suletta-“ The rest of their conversation is lost to Miorine’s ears. Suletta, she thinks, savouring the feeling of her name on her lips.
Suddenly, Suletta’s eyes meet hers. She’s not sure when she learned to recognise her ticks, but she sees the telltale signs of her worry fade away.
“M-Ms. Rembran?”
“You know my name?” Miorine responds bluntly.
Suletta giggles nervously. “When I-I moved in, the owner t-told me I could go to you i-if I needed anything.” Then she covers her mouth as she lets out a squeal. “U-um, I’m y-your neighbour, i-if you didn’t r-recognise me!”
“Don’t worry, I’ve seen you around the building.”
“R-really? Y-you seem to always be out for work.”
Miorine gestures at her tailored suit and work briefcase. “As you can see, I don’t get many breaks.”
“O-oh! We’re s-so sorry for bothering you!” Suletta bows her head.
“You’re not. I was just heading home.”
“T-that’s good.” Suletta raises her head, and Miorine finally gets a good look at her face.
There are heavy bags under her eyes, prominent as a bruise, and she seems to be stuck in a permanent downtrodden look. That, combined with her slouch, has a certain traitorous part of Miorine’s brain wishing there was something she could do to help.
“So, misunderstanding?” The other girl – Chuchu, Miorine reminds herself, interjects.
“Y-yes. Chuchu, t-this is Ms. Rembran. My neighbour.”
Chuchu fixes her with a glare that Miorine returns easily.
“P-please don’t fight.” Suletta begs.
Chuchu harrumphs as she gives in, and Miorine turns her head away from them.
“Well, it was good seeing you, but I should be heading home.” Miorine starts to leave, but she’s pulled back by a hand on her wrist, gentle and familiar yet everything but.
“S-sorry. I-I just…” Suletta shakes her head apologetically. “W-well, I was w-wondering if I could v-visit you, Ms. Rembran?”
Miorine raises an eyebrow as she looks over her shoulder, making sure to keep as much of her flushed cheeks hidden.
“I j-just thought it could be nice to have f-friends in the building.”
Miorine mentally douses herself with cold water to ward away the heat. “You’re bold, aren’t you?”
Suletta flinches. “S-sorry-“
“I didn’t say no!”
“Really?”
Miorine is forced to turn away from the earnest smile that has broken out on her face, lest she be blinded by the light.
“I-is tonight alright?”
Miorine nods, hoping the blush on her face isn’t as obvious as it feels.
“T-thank you!”
Miorine leaves the gallery with a spring in her step.
When she gets home, she frantically begins cleaning her apartment for the first time in months.
Miorine wakes to the sensation of Suletta’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist from behind, cradling her close. She cherishes these fleeting moments of stillness in the morning before the day is set in motion and she’s given the reins to a company. Not that she hates her work – she’s doing good for the world, and though she knows she can never make up for what she’s done, perhaps it’s a start.
Still, sometimes Miorine wishes she could spend hours like this, wrapped up in a cocoon of Suletta’s embrace.
She runs her hands over Suletta’s arms, humming appreciatively as she feels the tensing of her muscles. Perhaps there are other benefits too, she muses.
The sun inches into their room leisurely, and Miorine almost wants to shut their curtains and keep it out. She doesn’t, but still. She considers.
From behind her, Suletta stirs. She shifts a miniscule amount against her back, her breathing changes in rhythm, but it’s enough for Miorine to tell she’s awake.
“Suletta,” she grumbles. “Are you awake?”
Suletta doesn’t move.
“Stop faking, idiot.” Miorine turns around in the embrace to face her, prepared to fix her with a pout as soon as she opens her eyes.
Suletta still doesn’t budge. Miorine pokes her in the cheek.
“Sulet-“
Then, Suletta surges forward. She locks her arms around her back, presses her lips into Miorine’s neck before she can protest, and then she blows.
“Suletta!” Miorine screams as she giggles. “What the hell are you-“
Suletta does it again, and Miorine can’t help but laugh as she pushes against her.
“Are you a child!? Let me go, Suletta!”
Suletta relents eventually. When she lets go, Miorine takes in her messy bedhead, her flushed cheeks, and red lips, and all of it makes her want to kiss her.
So she does, but not before playfully shoving her.
When she pulls away, Suletta is grinning up at her innocently.
“Did you just learn what a raspberry is?”
“Mom said she used to do it for Ericht. I wanted to see how it felt.”
Once again, Miorine is filled with affection for her groom. She dives down again, giving Suletta another kiss to show just how bad she has it for her.
“You’re an idiot,” she grumbles into her shoulder.
“Alright, can one of you turn me around, please?”
Miorine jumps.
“Ericht…”
From their bedside table, Eri’s voice reverberates through their keychain. “You two are cute, don’t get me wrong. I probably don’t need to see where this is going, though.”
“Shut up. You wanted to have a sleepover with your sister, don’t be mad that her wife wants attention too!”
“I’m not!” Eri protests. “I’m just saying, you two aren’t very subtle about this stuff…”
Suletta sighs as she turns the keychain to face the roof.
“Family of perverts,” Miorine grumbles. She accepts Suletta’s offer to cuddle, though, and fits right back in under the covers.
“What’s on for today?” Suletta asks.
“I have to go in to work,” Miorine yawns. “Sabina will be here to pick me up soon. What about you?”
“I think I’ll head to the town. If we’re going to build a school here, we’ll need permission from the council.”
Miorine nuzzles into her neck as she hums. “Don’t forget, a school on Earth will be much harder to build than the one on Mercury. Spacians still aren’t too accepting.”
“I know. I’m not going to give up, though.”
Miorine presses a kiss to her cheek, where her scars linger. “Good. I’ll convince the board, too. GUND-ARM donations will make it much easier for you.”
Suletta manoeuvres their position until she can gently press a kiss to Miorine’s lips, which she accepts gratefully. “Thank you.”
Miorine waves her off.
They stay like that for a while, basking in the warm glow of the sun and each other’s company.
“When are you two getting married?” Ericht pipes up, fully devoid of tact.
“You really are a meddlesome sister-in-law, you know that?” Miorine shakes her head.
“Well, we wanted to wait for Nika’s sentence to end before making it official. But, well…”
Suletta holds up her ring, and in the stream of sunlight it glimmers brightly. Miorine holds up her own hand and entwines their fingers, binding the two of them together. Her own ring sits comfortably on her finger, a weight that’s become so comforting she can hardly remember how she lived without it.
“I guess it already feels like we are,” Suletta whispers, her blush obvious.
Miorine doesn’t say anything. She presses up closer, feeling how her heart pounds like a drum.
“You know,” Eri chuckles, and she can almost see the smug smile in her voice. “Nika gets out soon. Maybe you two should start thinking…”
“How do you even know Nika?” Miorine pushes back.
“I’ll have you know she was my favourite mechanic at that school.”
Miorine responds with an inarticulate grunt. In response, Eri giggles.
Suletta turns to her and whispers lowly, “maybe we should-“
“I know.” Miorine shushes her. “I just don’t want her to know she’s right.”
“I can hear you, you know!”
Miorine sighs, cursing the advancement of technology.
The night falls, and once again, Miorine is locked away in her coffin of an apartment.
For the first time ever, though, it’s nowhere near as stifling as it once was.
“S-so, Ms. Miorine, do you like y-your job?” Suletta asks her.
It’s new, this casual dance they do when they’re both free, but Suletta is fresh and endearing in all the ways Miorine is jaded and tired. Suletta and her nervous stutter and curious glances around her apartment have weaved their way past her walls, and Miorine can feel her resolve growing weaker the more time she spends around her.
She shakes her head in response to the question. “It’s a job. More importantly, working with art is the opposite of what my loser father wanted for me.”
“Y-your father?”
“He wanted me to go into politics. Then, he only saw me as a pawn in his political games.” Miorine grimaces as she talks, the mere mention of her father tainting the air. “I was glad to get away from him.”
“T-that’s unfortunate. I-I’m sorry,” Suletta says as she bows her head.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Suletta.”
Suletta doesn’t raise her head. Instead, she focuses on the takeaway Miorine had ordered for them, chewing anxiously. Miorine senses the conversation has gone somewhere she’s uncomfortable, but she feels lost on how to inquire about it.
Instead, she changes the subject. “And you? Is university treating you well?”
Suletta brightens. “I-I love my friends, and it’s so fun doing classes! A-and sometimes we all get together in Chuchu – that’s the girl you met – and Nika’s apartment and we play games together.”
Miorine nods. “That does sound fun. I assume you have competitions, as well. How are those?”
“Y-you mean for a-athletics?” At Miorine’s nod, Suletta’s expression noticeably falls. She searches Miorine’s apartment desperately, until finally, she finds the collection of plants Miorine has on her balcony – the one area she hadn’t needed to clean when Suletta had first visited. “I-I mean, it’s f-fine.”
Miorine raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“W-well, I d-do good and all, and I l-love running, b-but I like my classes more.”
“So why do you still compete?”
Suletta seems to struggle with the words, but eventually she forces them out. “M-my mom. She always w-wanted me to be a r-runner.”
Miorine stares for a moment. Then, she feels her anger rise like the tide. She clenches her fist and grits out, “seems we both have lousy parents, then.”
“Mom isn’t l-lousy!”
Miorine doesn’t bother arguing. She resists the urge to yell and instead asks, “what do you want to do, Suletta?”
Suletta looks shocked. She takes a moment to think. “I-I’ve always wanted t-to be a teacher,” Is what she answers with eventually. She does so quietly, as if she’ll be punished for uttering the words.
Miorine looks at her, and she sees all the facets of Suletta blend into this timid, strong, wonderful woman. She wants so desperately to save her, to rescue her from this life.
“What would you like to watch?” She asks her instead, holding up the remote.
The house is much more quiet than usual when Miorine gets home from work. She’s used to whatever silly tune Suletta’s singing, and Ericht’s annoying ramblings. Nothing like today, where there’s only a soft tune playing from their living room.
Before she’s one foot in the door, Elnora is facing her down with an impassive gaze.
“Welcome home, Miorine. How was your day?”
“Fine,” Miorine waves her off. Then she corrects herself. “We’re still facing resistance from Earth, but I have hope they’ll come around to the benefits of our treatments. How was yours?”
Elnora tilts her head, her smile full and genuine. “Lovely. Suletta and I have been catching up on missed time.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” Miorine kicks off her heels as she enters, then takes Eri’s keychain off her suitcase. She places it gently on the table, where the eyes light up with a vivid blue.
“Mom!”
“I missed you today, Ericht. Didn’t you say you’d check in on your mother more?”
Ericht groans. “Sorry, Mom. Miorine’s hopeless without me now. It’s pretty tiring, running a company.”
“I am not.” Miorine snaps, but it lacks any bite. In response, Eri just giggles.
Miorine slumps against the couch while the two of them chat, feeling her exhaustion get the better of her. Miorine rubs at her eyes. Faintly, she wishes Suletta were here, if only to give her a comfortable pillow to nap against.
“You can just ask where she is, Miorine. I don’t mind.” Elnora’s voice breaks through the haze.
“Well, if you insist.”
Elnora’s eyes crinkle. “Suletta’s out in the garden. It seems she’s taken on your love of gardening,” she muses.
Miorine hums, and then it’s quiet again. Ericht pipes up, but Miorine can’t bring herself to join the conversation.
Even though so much of her life is so good now, Elnora – and the woman she used to be – is the one area Miorine can’t wrap her head around.
She knows Suletta loves her mother, and in a way, Miorine cares for her too. After all, they’ve lived together for over a year and a half now, but there are certain scenes Miorine can’t wipe from her mind.
The barrel of a gun, and Prospera’s mask behind it. Her clever taunts and the words prodding at her, like a knife held against her neck, compelling her to catapult her life into disarray.
Miorine remembers crying and wondering if the fractures in the ground would ever be shut again.
Now, the ground is stable, sewn shut by her and Suletta’s love and the home they’ve built above it. And yet, Miorine cannot forget.
“I hear you’re finally planning to marry my daughter,” Elnora asks her, and at that Miorine jumps.
She fixes Ericht with a glare before responding. “I don’t intend to ask for your blessing, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Elnora laughs. “I lost that right a long time ago, Miorine. I just wanted to make sure everything goes well.”
“It can’t be that hard, can it?”
Elnora laughs again, though this time Ericht joins in. “Oh, you naïve soul. Have you never thought of all the work that goes into a wedding?”
“Not particularly. For most of my life, I’ve been doing quite the opposite.”
Elnora hums. “I suppose you’re right. Well, aside from planning a general budget-“
“I’ll spare no expense.”
“Of course,” Elnora smiles. “Along with that, there’s the date, a venue for both the ceremony and reception, decorations, photography, theme…”
Miorine’s horror must show on her face.
“Perhaps we should take it one step at a time, though. Have you planned a guest list?”
“No, but that seems much more manageable.”
“While we’ll have to consider seating arrangements, in-laws, and accommodation, I think the two of you should get a start on that, too.” She laughs again and adds wistfully, “ah, this is bringing me back.”
Miorine nods, but one part of Elnora’s words sticks out to her. “I won’t be inviting my father, Elnora,” she declares.
Elnora just stares at her, as if attempting to decode her. “You don’t have to do that for me, Miorine.”
“I’m not. He may be my father, but he never did anything to deserve being in my life.”
Elnora considers. “Very well,” she says slowly. “I assume you and Suletta will iron out the rest?”
Miorine nods.
“And I’ll help!” Ericht interjects.
Miorine sighs.
“Please rely on me for the rest, Miorine. I may be old, but I’ve been married before.”
“Very well,” Miorine accepts. “Then we’ll be counting on you.”
It’s nothing monumental, Miorine supposes. Then again, everyone needs to start somewhere, and Miorine knows how difficult it is to begin atoning.
Miorine hates her job. She’s not sure when it started, but she knows it must have been for a while, because the days have begun to merge together for a long time now, incongruent timelines of days that meld together but fail to truly mesh, like sewing together a scarf with different threads of material.
She feels out of place. Lost.
All she knows is she gets home, and things start to feel right again. Suletta may not be home, but when she does, she knocks on Miorine’s door. Sometimes, they chat for a bit. Other times, Suletta comes in, and they share a meal and a movie. Other times, she’ll bring her headphones and laptop, and she’ll do her lessons in the comfort of Miorine’s apartment.
At the same time, Miorine does her own work – gardening.
Her mother had always loved tomatoes, so that’s what she grows. It is fulfilling in a way that her job never has been. She was scared to admit it, at first, but it’s a truth that infects her like a virus.
Suletta and Miorine work in silent company, sharing nary a word but a flow of emotions, compelling them to work at what they love.
Over time, their connection builds and builds. Suletta’s stutter fades the more time they spend together as she grows bolder.
Eventually, Suletta works up the courage to kiss her on the way back from a restaurant Miorine takes her to. For her part, Miorine reciprocates just as hotly.
Then Suletta leaves and Miorine goes to work in the morning. And the entire time she’s there, she wishes she was at home.
Miorine wakes with a torrent of emotions, the most dominant a suffocating apathy that leaves her dazed and confused.
Then she feels Suletta’s embrace and breathes in her scent, and the feeling is gone.
“Are you awake?” Suletta asks her in a voice that’s husky and scratchy from her sleep, enough to have Miorine feeling hot and bothered at a much too inappropriate time.
“I am now,” she tells her.
“Oh, good.” Suletta sounds relieved. “It sounded like you were having a nightmare. How are you?”
“I’m alright. I don’t think it was a nightmare,” she whispers into Suletta’s neck. “I… can’t remember what it was about, actually. I just remember thinking that things weren’t right.”
Suletta begins rubbing circles into her back, a gesture that turns Miorine into goo. She presses closely into Suletta’s chest, running her hands over the tender skin of her back.
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better. I love you.”
Suletta giggles. Miorine feels the vibrations on her scalp. “I love you too, Mio.”
“It’s my day off. Stay with me.”
“Of course.”
There’s a pair of lips pressed against the top of her head. Miorine tilts her head up to steal the kiss for herself.
“Greedy,” Suletta tells her when they break apart.
Miorine hums. “Kiss me again and I’ll forgive you for that.”
Suletta does. She tastes like the morning sunrise and tomatoes, and Miorine doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of it.
“I’ve been thinking,” Suletta starts, and then she giggles when Miorine kisses at her neck. “Stop, Mio! I’m serious!” She whines.
“Fine,” Miorine sighs. “What were you saying?”
“For our wedding, I was thinking… I want it to be our own.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we built this house, and everything we have is because we chose it for ourselves. I… want to get married here, where everyone can see it.”
Miorine’s mind whirls. “That sounds… are you sure? I mean, it’ll be difficult-“
“I know.” Suletta’s eyes drift to her crutches. When she looks back, she’s filled with resolve. “I know it will be, but with our friends, I’m sure we can do it!”
Miorine just stares, admiring her slowly and tracing her form with adoring eyes. “Yes. Of course we can. I trust you. I always have.”
Suletta grins. Then she kisses Miorine hotly, pushing her back against the mattress.
“Thank you!”
Miorine laughs. Then she reaches up and pulls Suletta back down. They have all day after all, and after that, forever.
A few months go by. Suletta introduces her to her friends, and aside from grating against Chuchu, she thinks they’re all lovely. They all care for Suletta in their own ways, she notices – Suletta has her bad days, when the pressure from her Mom and her competitions get to her, and when Miorine can’t be there to play the loving girlfriend, they all take turns being there for her.
Aliya brings her homemade goat’s milk and reads her fortune. Ojelo and Nuno run mini videogame tournaments with her. Till and Lilique use her as a first listener for their new music. Nika and Chuchu stay with her when Miorine’s stuck at work.
Miorine loves them for it. But whenever she gets back and she sees the telltale signs that Suletta has stayed in, she can’t help the white-hot rage that pools in her veins.
“I think you should quit athletics,” she tells her impulsively one day, when they’re revisiting Nika’s gallery.
Suletta’s hand shakes in her grasp. Subconsciously, she lowers her head. “M-Miorine, you know I can’t-“
“Why?”
Suletta takes her hand from Miorine’s and runs it over her cheeks. From how close she stands, Miorine can see how she shakes. “I don’t want to let Mom down,” she whispers.
Miorine’s head snaps again, and it’s all she can do not to crack – she isn’t mad at Suletta, her girlfriend doesn’t deserve this, she reminds herself. The injustice of the situation just makes her want to scream.
“It’s your life, Suletta. Your friends and I, we can all see you’re forcing yourself into this,” she stresses. “If your Mom really loved you, she’d support you pursuing your own life.”
“I know that,” Suletta forces out quietly, face clenched. “I’m just not sure that she would.”
Miorine freezes. Her arguments die on her tongue. Suletta looks so fragile like this, so small.
“Would you like a hug?” She asks.
“…Please.”
Miorine waits for Suletta to take a tentative step forward before wrapping her arms around her back. She pulls her in close, and though Suletta still towers over her, Miorine tries her best to envelop her in warmth to the best of her ability.
Silently, Suletta breaks down in her arms.
Miorine takes her time wiping Suletta’s eyes. She traces her cheeks with her hands, letting every breath she takes resonate through her own body from her fingertips.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry in public,” she grumbles.
Suletta laughs wetly. “It’s alright. I... I know I need to stop running.”
Miorine brushes a strand of hair from out of her face. She studies every inch of her face, doing her best to commit it to memory. Perhaps it’s too intimate for where they are, but Miorine can’t bring herself to care.
“Rely on me.”
Suletta nods.
“Good. Don’t forget about me.”
“I couldn’t.”
Miorine looks away, the red on her cheeks blooming like a flower.
“Ms. Nika is so talented,” Suletta sounds awed as she surveys the gallery around them. “Sometimes I feel pretty useless, seeing what she can do.”
Miorine hums. “Artists put in a ridiculous amount of effort perfecting their craft. Don’t be surprised if you can do something similar if you’re just as dedicated.” Then she adds, “I admit though, her work is impressive.”
“Right?” Suletta laughs. “Thanks for saying that, Mio.”
“That nickname is not sticking.”
Suletta pouts. “I guess you see a lot of incredible artwork in your job, huh Miorine?”
Miorine scoffs, venom dripping from her teeth. “You’d be surprised. It’s easier than you’d think for rich people to get some shoddy, half-assed pieces overvalued for their own gain.”
“…You don’t sound very happy, Miorine.”
Miorine sighs. She stands, stretching her back out with a satisfying pop.
She turns to the piece they’ve sat themselves down in front of – a robot standing just shorter and built from the same materials as the Aerial, sectioned to the outskirts of the gallery. The lights around it have been left off, drowning the robot in shadow, and it holds what looks like a broom in its crushing grasp. Most noticeably, the lights on its eyes and body are a striking, bloody red that dye the darkness in crimson. The plaque beneath it reads Calibarn – The Monster.
“When I look at this, I see a robot built for killing. I imagine Nika running from this robot in her dreams, I see it tearing every plate of its armour from pieces of her home.” She turns to Suletta, who is staring up at her in wonder. “What do you see, Suletta?”
Suletta stares for just a moment longer, and then she giggles. She pulls out her phone, and with a curious look in her eyes, she shines the flashlight over the suit.
In the light, the red turns a glimmering, prismatic rainbow. A deluge of colours fills her view, so vibrant that even the other visitors have turned to watch.
Then the light goes off, and Suletta is looking at her with an annoying, sheepish grin.
“Idiot. You think you can do my job better than me?”
“N-no! I just- Nika did that on purpose.”
Miorine grumbles as she goes back to Suletta. “As your apology, open up.”
Suletta lifts an arm and Miorine slips into her side effortlessly, her head resting on her shoulder.
“Ms. Nika says the Calibarn is her favourite piece. She keeps it off to the side and away from the rest, but it means the most to her. She says that it, ‘represents trust, and what we can do together.’ I-I’m not really sure what she means, but…” Suletta trails off.
The statement doesn’t mean anything to Miorine, but regardless, something in her brain resonates. It makes her snuggle in closer to Suletta, and for a moment, she can see Suletta in its cockpit, resolve stronger than steel.
“It's a nice idea.”
Suletta shakes her head. “I believe in it, Miorine. You and our friends all make me feel stronger.”
“They’re your friends, Suletta.”
“No, they’re not,” she responds gently. “Till and Aliya text you more than me now, and Chuchu has been talking about getting your boss to lay off your case all weekend. They’re your friends too, now.”
Miorine harrumphs.
“Trust in them more, please? For me?” Suletta’s pout is the last knife in her resolve.
“I-I’m not sure how to, anymore.”
Suletta considers for a moment, and then she asks, “what do you want for your life, Miorine?”
“I’ve wanted to run away for so long,” she tells her, raw and unfiltered. “I hated it here for so long.”
“And now?”
“…I’ve never been happier these last few months. Gardening, being with you and your- our friends…”
Her voice has shattered into pieces. She can feel the tatters of her dreams, on the floor around her. The worst part? She can’t bring herself to care.
How could she, when Suletta is holding her like this? How could she, when Suletta’s voice is so sweet in her ear, and her arms are so secure around her waist?
“I think we both need to stop running,” she tells Suletta, not even hiding the tears that have begun to flow.
Suletta nods as she wipes the tears away. “What would you like to do?”
“…I’d like to go back to school. My mother did horticulture studies, and I-I’d like to follow in her footsteps.”
Suletta smiles, bright as the sun. “Then you should do that. And I… I’ll talk to my mom about becoming a teacher.”
“And if she disagrees?”
Suletta turns timid for a moment. “Can I count on you?”
“What are you giving me that shy act for? Of course you can you idiot, I’m your girlfriend!” She yells, though it’s lacking any bite. “We can trust each other.”
Suletta smiles back at her tearfully, and Miorine thinks she’s the luckiest woman in the world to see it.
When they go home to their apartments that night, it’s hand in hand and drenched in the warm glow of the sunlight. The night that had once seemed so daunting, her apartment that had felt so dead, her future that had seemed so cold and lifeless have been replaced with Suletta, who unfailingly brightens everything.
Suletta doesn’t leave when the night falls, and she doesn’t leave in the many nights that follow.
When Miorine next wakes, she does so alone. The bed is not cold by any stretch of the imagination, but it lacks someone she’s come to expect in it, so nevertheless it feels frigid.
She is never truly without her – even on this morning, Suletta’s old holder uniform fills her nostrils with the scent of ash and motor oil and tomatoes and Suletta. The scent must be addicting, because she hasn’t slept without it since they built their house, even as the distinct smell of Suletta has morphed. No longer does she spend hours in Aerial or the Calibarn. No longer do her and Nika conduct maintenance late into the night on the suits. Now, she smells of dirt and trees and flowers, and Miorine is every bit as bewitched.
No matter how many times she washes it, the holder uniform always carries that faint inkling of their past world, and so Miorine thinks she’ll never tire of it.
She tracks her way to the back door, creaking it open with a push from her foot. On the steps leading to the grass, with her bare feet in the dirt and crutches balanced over her lap, sits Suletta, pensive and deep in thought.
She stirs at the sound of Miorine and brightens immediately when she sees her, giving her an earnest wave. “Morning, Miorine!”
“Good morning, Suletta. You’re up early.”
“Ah, I know,” she nods. “Sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Miorine scoffs. She pulls Suletta’s uniform tighter around her as she sits next to her bride. “What’s on your mind?”
Suletta turns her gaze out to the expanse of a backyard they’ve cultivated. They’d settled on a vast, open plot when they built the place, enough to give them room for a diverse garden to bloom and far enough away from the rest of civilisation to not necessitate a fence.
For now, though, there are only 4 plots of Notrette’s tomatoes. The rest of their backyard sits untouched, save for the maintenance Suletta performs to keep it looking presentable.
“How about we get married right here?”
“In our backyard?”
Suletta nods. “I mean, we can bring tables and chairs. We can build an archway, grow our own flowers…”
“Well, it would be very us to get married in our garden, I suppose,” Miorine muses.
“I know! And it would keep all those business people you hate out of our business, too.”
Miorine nods. “I would prefer a low-profile wedding.”
“So you agree?”
Miorine runs her hands over the scars on Suletta’s biceps. “Of course, my groom. I trust you wholeheartedly.”
Suletta beams. She presses her lips to Miorine’s lips sloppily. “Thank you!”
“Gross,” Miorine exaggeratedly gags. “I suppose this means you agree with my plan for a guest list?”
“Ah, well, I don’t think Mr. Elan goes by that name anymore, and I’m pretty sure nobody’s heard from him in a long time. But otherwise,” she gives Miorine a wide grin and a thumbs up.
Miorine rolls her eyes. “I’ll have someone try and find him. If they fail, tough luck.”
Suletta hums. Miorine takes her chance to lean into her side and tangle their arms together.
“I’m so excited to marry you, Mio.”
Miorine chooses to kiss her in lieu of a response.
“You seem excited too,” Suletta teases.
“Don’t be silly. I just had a good dream, is all.”
It’s a fool’s errand, trying to lie to Suletta. Her bride knows her like the dirt beneath her feet and the house she helped build, and Miorine knows her thoughts must be like moths, floating among the light for Suletta to see in all their glory.
So Suletta extracts herself from Miorine’s clinging grasp. She pushes the crutches to the side and wobbles on her feet for a moment, straining with effort. Then, with one hand on Miorine’s leg for support, she slowly lowers herself to one knee.
Tenderly, she holds Miorine’s hand in her own, running a finger along her ring.
“Will you marry me, Miorine?” She asks, voice tight with nerves.
Miorine’s free hand shoots up to her mouth, but not before she lets out a sound that’s something between a laugh and a sob. It comes out like she’s strangling.
“Yes!” She cries before Suletta can inquire about it. “Of course I will, you idiot! Would I still be wearing this ring if I wouldn’t?”
Then Miorine’s tugs her down to bring her into a fierce kiss, one that’s much too rushed and fierce to be anything meaningful but still has her heart pounding against her ribcage.
Suletta smiles into the kiss, and with Miorine’s assistance, she slowly comes to rest on the stairs again. Their bodies magnetise together, and Miorine presses what feels like a thousand kisses against her cheeks, along every scar on her face and the ones that have healed enough to become invisible.
The sun crawls up the sky, painting their garden an aflame orange, brush strokes from the light turning the blades of grass into little dancers in the wind, melding and moving against each other. Their tomatoes seem to glow in the gentle embrace of the sunbeams, but it’s the sight of Suletta that truly takes her breath away.
She’s just as beautiful as the day Miorine met her. Perhaps more so – happiness this vivid makes her shine brighter than the sun.