Work Text:
Elise’s hand felt clammy as Elise pulled Rozenmarine along the last few steps on their way home. Elise had clasped her hand so tightly around Rozenmarine’s, squeezing it hard as that initial bravado left her. Her steps had gotten faster, and even just the lantern light Rozenmarine could see that blush spreading across her face. Rozenmarine’s own heart was still fluttering, but who could blame her when all she could do was think about Elise promising her a new future, confessing both her love and dedication to Rozenmarine. She had tried to come up with something they could eat for supper. It was to no avail though, as her mind circled and circled around those three words and the way Elise had looked at her. The whole way Elise was quiet, her eyes pointedly avoiding Rozenmarine or the hands that were linked between the two of them. Whenever Rozenmarine would tentatively squeeze back, Elise’s eyes would flit towards her before darting away. It was cute. They had danced, they had kissed, they had confessed to one another and yet, just holding Rozenmarine’s hand still rendered Elise shy. But through all that embarrassment Elise was smiling, not just that, she was grinning brightly, and her steps had a little skip in them, and oh Elise seemed so happy to hold her hand. Rozenmarine almost felt like crying. She felt so full, so overwhelmed, supper truly was the last thing she cared about.
Elise seemed to think the same. Once they had gotten inside, Elise had looked around a little aimlessly before slowly letting go of her hand. Scratching her cheek, Elise laughed awkwardly. Neither her nor Rozenmarine had much of a script from here on out. Behind all that bluster and bold proclamation Elise was unsure and Rozenmarine had never imagined that they would be here tonight, together in Elise’s cottage, worrying about supper.
“We still have some bread,” Rozenmarine said. She sat down her hat on the dining table, eyeing the breadbasket on it but all she wanted was to hold Elise’s hand again, if only for a second. “Is that okay?”
“I’m not all that hungry,” Elise replied. “With all that festival food.”
“I am much the same, I suppose,” Rozenmarine said. “Everyone kept giving me food I barely knew what to do with all of it.”
“Popular lass, aren’t you? If only people kept giving me free food.” Elise was laughing. Some of the awkward tension eased out of her shoulders.
“Uhm, I would have shared!”
“Yes, yes, I am sure,” Elise dismissed her with a smirk and a shake of her head. “So, we should probably be heading to bed then?” Elise asked.
If only Rozenmarine’s body did not feel tired from dancing, and dancing, and eating so much good food, Rozenmarine would have loved to stay awake all night. Huddled together by the hearth, maybe drinking some tea, just the two of them. Oh, how much she would have liked for this night to not end, to bask in this wonderful feeling. She wondered how either of them would be able to fall asleep now, when they were both buzzing with excitement.
But Elise was probably right, the day had been long. Rozenmarine’s head was swimming with new experiences, and memories. Each one she tried to carve into her very mind so she would never forget them. So she followed Elise up those creaky stairs, some part of her knowing she needed rest.
Even after Elise had let go of her hand, they had somehow gravitated towards each other, always close by the other’s side even if they did not touch. And it wasn’t just Rozenmarine seeking Elise, no Elise as well seemed to keep her close; always in hand’s reach. When Rozenmarine stopped by that beautiful tapestry hung upon the wall, Elise did too. She barely paid the tapestry any attention though, and neither did Rozenmarine all that much.
“Did you have a nice time today?” Elise said after a while, though not once had she even bothered to look at the tapestry. “It was your first time at a festival, right?”
“Mhmh,” Rozenmarine nodded happily. “I loved it. Everyone was happy. And the dancing, Elise! The dancing! I never had so much fun!”
Just a few days ago, no, just this morning even Elise would have groused about Rozenmarine’s low standards; how lousy the festival was compared to much grander things. But now Elise cleared her throat, “Well, I am glad, then, I suppose.”
They kept exchanging such simple chatter, idling about, reaching the door to Elise’s room at a snail’s pace. Both were not quite ready to let go of this night, of each other. But as they stood, so very close to one another, inside Elise’s room, everything still with the moonlight shining through the curtains so brightly, even Rozenmarine did not know how to make this night last just a little longer. Illuminated from behind by that blue moonlight Elise looked at her with wide eyes. She was so lovely and Rozenmarine was probably staring too much. For all that attention Elise claimed to desire she always got so self-conscious about things like that. Rozenmarine was proven right when Elise turned away with shoulders raised and an embarrassed squawk.
The stitches of her dress felt uneven under her fingertips as Rozenmarine played with the hem. “Goodnight, Elise,” she said and hoped Elise would at least look at her one more time before she climbed up that ladder to the attic.
“You aren’t… y-you can’t be serious! Rosmarine!” Elise snapped.
“Uhm, did I do something wrong?”
Elise stomping her foot indignantly was adorable, Rozenmarine decided as she watched Elise angrily articulating.
“D-Do-Don’t make me say it!”
Maybe Rozenmarine had an inkling what Elise wanted, but with that beautiful blush painted across Elise’s puffed-up cheeks it was hard not to play along a little longer.
“Don’t make you say what, Elise?” she asked with a tilt of her head. Mostly to hide that giddy smile on her face.
“For goodness sake! Y-you know exactly what!”
There was no use fighting the giggles bubbling up inside her, so Rozenmarine took pity. Elise was just altogether too cute. Taking another step closer to Elise, she asked, “Can I sleep here with you tonight, Elise?”
“You weren’t supposed to say it either!”
“Oh Elise, there is nothing to be embarrassed about!” Rozenmarine chirped. Quickly she took Elise by the hand and pulled her to the bed. Gleefully she ignored the grumbled ‘says you’. The way Elise’s hand had not even attempted to pull back was more than enough for her.
“Honestly, you are shameless, aren’t you,” Elise said. She had just sat down the lamp on the nightstand and let out an exasperated sigh. Settling down on the bed she fiddled with her brooch until she finally unfastened it and put it next to the lamp. “Are you just going to stand around there?” Elise complained.
Rozenmarine wondered how much Elise had thought this through. Probably not that much, Elise was so impulsive sometimes. And then, still standing there watching Elise bow down to remove her shoes, Rozenmarine felt similarly impulsive.
“L-Let me!” she said a little louder than she had intended. It halted Elise in her tracks, who looked up confused.
“Let you what?”
“Help you,” Rozenmarine replied. The beating of her own heart, wild and erratic, almost drowned out the sound of her own voice in her ears. When Rozenmarine dropped down onto her knees in front of Elise, Elise made a noise Rozenmarine could hardly describe. The carpet rolled out in Elises’s bedroom felt wonderfully soft, but in this very moment Rozenmarine would have kneeled on gravel or burning coals, it would not have mattered.
“What are you doing?!” Elise raised her voice, almost in panic.
But the moment Rozenmarine’s fingers touched the glossy leather of those ruby red slippers Elise grew so very still. They were a gift from him , that precious invitation to anything Elise could dream of. They had carried Elise all the way through the woodlands, across uneven paths, rocks and roots, all the back way here to Rozenmarine. The leather felt horribly stiff against her fingertips, rigid and unforgiving. Gently she held Elise’s left foot in both of her hands. With care she traced the edges of the shoe where she could see them press into Elise’s ankle and instep.
What would happen to these shoes now, Rozenmarine wondered. Now that they were not needed; now that the invitation had been rejected. Come morning would they still be there tempting Elise with their shine?
“Are they uncomfortable?” Rozenmarine asked.
“A little, sometimes,” Elise said.
Rozenmarine hummed thoughtfully. Those ruby red slippers, just another testament to Elise’s determination, no, to her devotion to that wish she harboured. One she had forgone for Rozenmarine. But no more would Elise need to wear these shoes. If she wanted a future with Rozenmarine, she would have it, Rozenmarine would give it to her. Just like Elise had given her more than she had dared hope for. A home, a someone to return to from her wandering.
“I love you, Elise,” Rozenmarine whispered.
By the twitch of the leg in her hands she knew Elise had heard her. Gripping her foot more tightly with her left hand to steady Elise’s leg, Rozenmarine ran her right palm up Elise’s shin. The hosiery was soft and so finely made. But now and then she could feel the little places it was mended, and uneven. She could feel runs beneath her fingertips. That slight tremble Rozenmarine could feel, grew into a tremor as she sought every little detail, every bit of history that had embedded itself in that one piece of clothing. A finger running along all the way from ankle up to her calf.
Enraptured by each detail, Rozenmarine's eyes wandered all the way to the hosiery band. Oh, how she wished to dedicate all of this to memory. Her right hand followed her gaze, brushing over her knees to touch Elise along the band wrapping around her thigh.
What a lovely gasp escaped Elise. Rozenmarine raised her head, and oh how lovely Elise looked. In the lamps warm shine the red of Elise’s cheeks blended so beautifully into the orange hues of the light. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and as Rozenmarine’s right hand continued tracing along that band of the hosiery she could see the way the muscles in her jaw clenched. Her left hand was pushing down her skirt, clutching the fabric with white knuckles. How quick Rozenmarine’s heart was beating against her ribcage, unable to stop watching Elise as her fingers drew patterns across her leg. Going all the way up, and all the way down, feeling each twitch and each tremor.
Then for just a second Elise peaked from the corner of her eyes. Immediately Elise’s left hand shot up to hide her face in her palm. How disappointing, and yet it was also very cute. Rozenmarine’s hand stilled, coming to rest against her shin. Then once more she let the tips of her fingers drift all the way down to the instep of Elise’s foot.
These shoes, they were meant to lead Elise to him , just like Rozenmarine was meant to. It was an honour, and a fate Rozenmarine had embraced dearly. Yet, Elise had rejected this fate, her own, Rozenmarine’s and the fate of these very shoes. It felt blasphemous for her, the one that had meant to guide Elise, to unclasp that little latch fastening the shoe to Elise’s foot. Rozenmarine did it anyway. If Elise could defy the fate she was born with, Rozenmarine would follow her lead and defy fate with that same courage. Her own breathing had gotten so fast and uneven, she had to hold her breath when with utmost care she pulled the shoe off Elise’s feet.
Once freed from its confines reflexively Elise wriggled her foot and her toes, stretching them all one by one. The shoe really must have been a little tight. After setting down the shoe Rozenmarine’s right hand returned to the instep of her foot. With a gentle pressure both of her hands glide over Elise’s foot, caressing and loosening those muscles. Rozenmarine hummed in response when she heard a relieved sigh.
Again, Rozenmarine turned to look at Elise. Her face was still turned away and hidden behind her hand.
“Elise,” she called out to her. Slowly she set Elise’s foot down on the carpet, only letting go with one last caress. “Elise,” she called out again but received no audible answer.
Instead of that, Elise just meekly raised her other foot.
“Oh Elise,” Rozenmarine murmured and she had not even meant to. This quiet consent, no, this quiet request, it made Rozenmarine’s hands tremble as she took hold of the shoe. It was a tremble that ran from her neck down to her spine, making her shudder all over. For the first time Rozenmarine understood that want Elise carried in her heart. Rozenmarine had never desired for much, and so never truly understood what drove Elise into the woodlands at night. She did now. It was all-consuming, and this unfamiliar feeling spread in Rozenmarine’s chest.
She wanted . She wanted and she wanted , and it made it hard to breathe. It made it hard to restrain herself. But Elise deserved that, deserved the gentle caresses, the careful touch. So, with the same reverence as before, she let her hand wander over Elise’s foot and leg. Tracing the seams and every run of the hosiery. Drawing out patterns on her thigh, rewarded by the sound of shaky exhales. Each reward drove her further, but never satisfying this greed that had taken hold of Rozenmarine.
Not even the strangled gasp soothed that need, when Rozenmarine bend down and pressed her lips to the instep of the foot. Nor did the quivers running through the legs that Rozenmarine felt against her lips as she pressed kisses along Elise’s calf, all the way up to her knee.
“Rosmarine,” Elise’s voice was stretched so thin, it sounded so fragile and so pretty. Rozenmarine wanted to hear it again. Enraptured by Elise, Rozenmarine did not even notice that when she finally pulled off that shoe, she dropped it thoughtlessly to the side. In the end, it was a shoe, nothing more and nothing less.
No longer satisfied with just this, Rozenmarine gently placed her hand atop of Elise’s which still held onto the fabric of her skirt. Slowly digit by digit, Rozenmarine eased Elise’s grip, Rozenmarine’s fingers stroking over calloused skin. With both hands Rozenmarine then brought Elise’s hand to her lips. Just like she had done before at the mill.
This time she did not stop with one kiss. She kissed each knuckle, the inside of Elise’s palm, each callous, covered her hand in kisses and caresses. She pressed her lips against that fluttering pulse on the inside of Elise’s wrist. Again, Elise called out to her, Rosmarine , so softly.
“You are so pretty, Elise,” Rozenmarine whispered against Elise’s skin. She could see the goosebumps running along Elise’s arm as Elise’s breath hitched. So, Rozenmarine said it again, “You are so pretty.” And it was true, Elise was the prettiest thing she had ever seen.
Over and over Elise said it, Rosmarine , Rosmarine , Rosmarine , muffled against that hand she hid behind. Oh, that would not do, muffled like that, and oh Rosmarine would not do. Pushing herself up, standing between Elise’s legs Rozenmarine took a hold of Elise’s other hand. There was no resistance when she pulled it away from Elise’s face towards her. Elise’s breaths were heavy, her chest rising and falling so quickly, and she was flushed from head to toe. Having nothing left to hide behind Elise looked at her, with a face so open, with quivering lips and wide eyes.
“You are so pretty, Elise,” Rozenmarine repeated.
“Yo-you…” Elise struggled speaking, overwhelmed and dazed by feelings. Feelings that Rozenmarine was sure were the very same feelings that were clouding every thought in Rozenmarine’s mind.
“Stop saying such embarrassing things,” Elise said, rather unconvincingly. Rozenmarine could tell how much she liked it, being called pretty, being spoiled like this. Lifting one knee on the mattress, Rozenmarine leaned over, hands grasping Elise by the waist.
“Elise,” Rozenmarine said, and then repeated it again and again, as her hands wandered slowly from the waist to the back of Elise's apron. “Elise,” she said, “Won’t you say my name?” she asked and they were so close now, with Rozenmarine leaning forward resting her chin on Elise’s shoulder and her hands around Elise carefully undoing the knot holding the apron in place. The fabric between her fingertips was thick and slightly rough, it was the apron of a working girl, scrubbed clean again and again for the next day. For tonight Elise would not need any of this, those days of working and calluses should be forgotten. Elise might not have been able to make her wish but just for tonight Elise should be allowed to feel like a princess, spoiled and pampered, each and every desire granted by Rozenmarine.
Pressed close, Rozenmarine could feel Elise shuddering against her ear. But none of this was enough just yet, she still felt it, that want , and she was sure Elise who always wanted, and always desired, felt the same. Maybe when she would finally hear Elise say her name, this need would be satisfied. Just once, she needed to hear it.
“It’s too embarrassing,” Elise mumbled, tilting her head and burying her face in Rozenmarine’s neck. Her hands that had found purchase in those white bed sheets, wrapped themselves around Rozenmarine’s shoulders, holding on tightly. Rozenmarine could feel those fingers digging into her dress all the way to her skin into her shoulder blades. Rozenmarine wanted to push, to make her say it, but how could she focus on that when Elise gasped like this with every brush of her finger.
As Elise clung to her, Rozenmarine pulled away the apron. With the little room for movement Elise’s iron grip left her, she put it to the side gently, trying to fold it once or twice so it wouldn’t crease. Elise treasured her things, her clothing, it was obvious. Her dresses were well ironed and pressed, her appearance prim and proper despite working herself to the bone. There were no stains left on them, and each little tear was mended so finely Rozenmarine could barely tell they were there.
It was the easiest to tell there were mends and little stitches when Rozenmarine let her hands wander over her dress like she did now, her fingertips feeling just the little bumps. She was looking for those buttons in the back but could not help herself, enjoying the soft fabric against the palms and how warm Elise was.
Rozenmarine had just undone the first button but then she halted. Elise’s breath was so hot against her neck, ah, it was unbearable, that feeling in her chest, this greed that made Rozenmarine feel reckless. “Elise, can I kiss you,” Rozenmarine asked. The body pressed against her stiffened, the breath she felt against her skin stopped.
“Yo-you don’t need to ask such things!” Elise snapped.
“But earlier at the crossroads…”
“Earlier was earlier, now is now.” Elise said. “I can’t… when you say things like that…”
The fingers burying into her shoulder blades pushed down even harder and Elise, Elise pressed her face so closely into her neck. It made it almost impossible to make out the quiet words she spoke. “Rosmarine,” Elise said, lips hot against Rozenmarine’s neck. “Please,” she whined, she was trembling.
All wishes, all desires Elise had, Rozenmarine wanted to answer them, to grant them, to please Elise however she could. “Shh,” Rozenmarine cooed, “I am here for you, Elise,” she soothed. Gently she stroked over Elise’s back.
Elise’s grip yielded easily when Rozenmarine leaned back a little. Immediately Elise tried to look away, turning her head to the side. Her face was so flushed, her mouth slightly open with shallow gasps for air. Rozenmarine felt so warm, from the tips of her toes to her ears, it made her almost dizzy. But none of that felt nearly as hot Elise’s cheeks against her fingertips. Cradling Elise’s face, Rozenmarine relieved both of them from this tension by finally kissing her.
Not like earlier today. It was a kiss not even Elise could deny. Not with the way Elise sank into her, clutching the fabric of her dress. It wasn’t just one kiss. Rozenmarine chased and chased that feeling, chased Elise’s taste on her lips and tongue. And Elise? Elise did much the same, wanting and wanting; it made Rozemarine’s body feel restless in ways she had not known before.
And after, those kisses had made her fingers unsteady, clumsy suddenly. She struggled opening those buttons thinking about Elise’s breath against her lips. Elise’s voice, it sounded so different now, needy and eager, and again the button slipped between her finger tips.
Between shuddering breaths Rozenmarine pushed Elise back a little. “Can you, can you turn around please? Uhm, so I can reach the buttons better,” she asked.
Whatever indignant reply Elise had, she swallowed it down with a clench of her jaw. Elise turned her back to Rozenmarine pulling her hair over raised shoulders so Rozenmarine could actually see the buttons fastening the dress.
A little more composed but still with an erratic heartbeat Rozenmarine’s fingers traced those dress buttons. They were lovely, with gold coloured trimmings, details nobody would ever really notice but made all the difference. With a care earned by such details, Rozenmarine unfastened the next few buttons. Slowly with enough time for Elise to calm herself before moving on to the next one.
Once fully opened, Rozenmarine let her hands glide the fabric once more, her palms moving in soothing circles over Elise’s back, going up and down, feeling out the twitching back muscles underneath layers of cloth.
“It’s such a lovely dress,” Rozenmarine said. From the first time she had seen it Rozenmarine had adored the dress, that shade of red. Red was such a good colour on Elise.
“Oh, this old thing,” Elise muttered.
“No, it’s lovely, Elise,” Rozenmarine insisted. Both her hands slipped beneath the dress’s collar. “It suits you so well, it’s really beautiful.”
It was a shame really, to take it off; to slide the sleeves down Elise’s arms with Rozenmarine’s palms firm against Elise’s skin. But Elise seemed surprisingly ready to slip out of her dress, leaving her in her petticoat.
The dress was too beautiful to just aimlessly discard though. Rozenmarine took it and the apron she had folded earlier; and with some reluctance stood up to drape them properly over the chair not too far from the bed. When she turned around again, Elise had scooted back on the bed. She was leaning against the headrest, arms folded over her chest and knees pulled in close. Her hair was loose, the ribbon untied. Rozenmarine felt a little disappointed spotting that ribbon bundled up on the nightstand. She would have loved to untie it.
“You better take off those shoes first,” Elise muttered. An invitation certainly, one Rozenmarine intended to accept.
Barely stopping on her way to the bed she slipped out of her wooden clogs, pulling them off with her feet, leaving them forgotten across the room. She sat down and slid over to Elise. The mattress was much softer than anything Rozenmarine was used to, giving way easily under her weight.
Tentatively she put a hand on Elise’s knee, then when all Elise did was turn her head she gently pried apart those arms covering her chest. Elise didn’t resist at all.
“Will you let me help me with the rest too?” Rozenmarine asked, that greed, that want still burning hotly in her chest. It was such a relief when Elise nodded her head, even if she didn’t manage to look at Rozenmarine while doing so.
The distance had helped steadying Rozenmarine’s heart. The petticoat fell in thick folds over Elise’s chest, the soft fabric still so very white. Rozenmarine had seen it, the way Elise diligently had hung up her whites close to the granary where they could be bleached out by the sunshine. Elise truly treated all her things with care, and oh would Elise treat Rozenmarine with the same kind of care? Rozenmarine was hers after all.
With much more certain fingers she traced the stitching on Elise’s collar. The fabric of Elise’s collar was stiff and well starched to keep the shape. She took the ruffles between her index finger and thumb, feeling them out, straightening them and watching them spring back into form.
In the low light with the lamp flickering moving shadows were cast over Elise; and at first Rozenmarine did not notice the dark curves peaking out from under her collar.
“Elise?” Rozenmarine called out, her fingers pulling down the collar revealing dark lines curling around Elise’s neck, a mark seared into her skin.
“What is –,” Rozenmarine could not even finish before Elise pushed her back, one hand covering her neck in haste.
“It’s nothing, it’s just… nothing, don’t think about it,” Elise said.
“Elise.”
“Rosmarine, just ignore it, it’s not important anymore.”
Rozenmarine frowned, she was not doing that, not now, not like this, not when Elise sounded like this. How could she ignore this, it was ridiculous, it was silly, and stupid and why was Elise just so stubborn?
“Is it a mark from him ?” Rozenmarine asked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Elise sniffed indignantly “Because it’s not important, it doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
“Oh Elise,” Rozenmarine sighed.
“Look, can’t we just pretend you didn’t see it,” Elise said with a crooked smile.
“No, please, Elise,” Rozenmarine replied. Her hand covered the one on Elise’s neck, gently intertwining each finger. “Let me see,” she said.
The hand in hers clung to her with a knuckle-white grasp as Rozenmarine pulled Elise’s hand back. It almost hurt a little, especially once she started unbuttoning the collar of Elise’s petticoat to unveil that awful mark across Elise’s neck.
Would it fade, or would it always blemish Elise’s skin like a rash, a reminder of a road not taken. With her free hand she lifted Elise’s chin just a little and then let her finger brush over that snake’s tail wrapping around Elise. The whole time Elise was so tense, squeezing her other hand tightly, jaw clenched.
“How did it happen,” Rozenmarine asked.
“It bit me, that snake, before I got that second thing, you know, whatever they were called,” Elise said.
A testament, they were called testaments but Rozenmarine was sure Elise knew that better than anyone, having offered up her own flesh and blood in pursuit of her wish. This mark was proof of all her devotion to that wish. Unlike the shoes this was something Rozenmarine could not undo.
For just a moment the hand holding onto her went slack when Rozenmarine’s lips grazed over that mark. Then Elise clung to her with which seemed to be all her strength. Her other hand wrapped around Rozenmarine’s back pulling Rozenmarine above herself.
Elise could have told her about the snake, the mark, that bite. Rozenmarine wanted to say that, but how pointless it was now. She could have said it, but Elise was right, it did not matter anymore, none of it did. Everything would be different from here on out, they had changed, Elise’s wish had changed. Rozenmarine pressed her lips against the skin of Elise’s neck. She could not remove these dark lines marking Elise, but she could cover them with her own marks, with her own proof of devotion. Leaving a reminder of something else entirely, something much more important.
“I love you, Elise,” she whispered quietly to herself, between her tongue and teeth leaving blossoming stains all over Elise’s skin. They would fade soon, Rozenmarine knew, but then she would just have to do it again, and again. As long as she could only listen to these sweet sounds Elise made.
Elise’s neck truly was beautiful, elegant sloping lines Rozenmarine traced from behind her ears to her collarbones. The skin was much softer than that off her hands, and so very sensitive. Rozenmarine felt every strained swallow, and every slight movement of tendons and muscles, every response to Rozenmarine’s teeth sinking into her skin. Small bites, with just enough pressure, never breaking skin, never hurting Elise. She could not take away that pain the mark had inflicted, but she would make Elise forget that sensation, rewriting the history painted on Elise’ skin.
Under her Elise shuffled, pushing herself up against Rozenmarine. Elise’s hand had dropped down from her shoulders, clutching the arm Rozenmarine was leaning on, and oh it seemed Elise was not going to be the only one left with marks. Small blue fingerprints dotted Rozenmarine’s wrist. She would treasure each one of them.
“Rosmarine,” mixed between the incoherent mumblings that fell from Elise’s lips, Rozenmarine could make out her name, clearly over and over. Just, it wasn’t her name at all, was it? She wanted to hear her say it, Rozenmarine , in that kind of voice, with that kind of need.
“Please, Elise,” Rozenmarine wondered if she sounded as desperate as she felt, “please, won’t you say my name?”
“I told you,” Elise struggled to speak, each word stringing together her sentence cut off, spoken with too much force and pauses too long in between them. “It’s too embarrassing.”
The more Elise refused it, the more Rozenmarine wanted it. It was not just her name, it was more now, as Elise treated it like something special, something intimate. “I won’t stop until you say it,” Rozenmarine said, lips brushing over Elise’s earlobe. If Elise wanted to be stubborn about this, so would Rozenmarine.
Elise huffed, an amused snort between heavy exhales. “That so?” she asked and her voice quivered a little.
“Yes,” Rozenmarine confirmed. She leaned back, so she could see Elise’s face better. She expected that embarrassed expression, expected Elise to look away, but she was staring up at her with that mischievous little twinkle in her eyes. One Rozenmarine was surprised she could muster, but left her with breathless anticipation all the same.
“Not until I say it, huh,” Elise repeated. “So you will stop when I say it, Rosmarine ?”
Oh, that was very unfair. That was playing dirty. Such a cruel deal, but what was Rozenmarine to do now? How lovely Rosmarine could suddenly sound, spoken as not just as an invitation but barely falling short of a demand to continue. Rozenmarine had given Elise the key to ask for more and more and more , and Rozenmarine would give it all to her.
And Elise did ask. As Rozenmarine kissed her once more, Elise whispered it against her lips over and over again, Rosmarine, Rosmarine, Rosmarine… It sounded so pretty, so wonderful now, and Rozenmarine obliged every time.
Those chanted affirmations of need between gaps for air pushed Rozenmarine to finally undo those last few buttons of Elise’s petticoat. Not even when Rozenmarine started pushing up the dress, revealing drawers and stays over so very thin chemise, did Elise stop filling the room with the sound of breathless demands for more.
Despite that Rozenmarine wanted to treat the petticoat with the same care, the kind of care Elise had for it. Just as Rozenmarine had done for the dress and apron. The petticoat was soft beneath her fingertips, its fabric light and easily wrinkled. She tried to focus on it, still it was difficult folding the petticoat and keeping herself steady.
Then before Rozenmarine could even think of properly putting away that piece of clothing she held, Elise pushed it out of her hands. Bunched up the fabric was spread out over the edge of the mattress before slipping to the ground. Elise’s hand grabbed Rozenmarine by the sleeve, a desperate pull drawing Rozenmarine’s attention away from the crumpled petticoat on the floor back to her.
“ Rosmarine ,” Elise whined and with that those earlier requests and demands dissolved in nothing but a plea.
One Rozenmarine would never deny her. How could she when was unable to take her eyes off Elise, tracing every bit of skin that had been revealed with the loss of the garment? When Elise's relieved sigh made Rozenmarine shudder all over as she kissed those shoulders exposed by her chemise? Rozenmarine could never deny her.
And as the demands turned to pleas, Rozenmarine’s hands brushed over Elise’s stays, following the curve of her hips. Beneath the tips of her fingers she felt the bones of the stays. Rozenmarine mapped out the various parts of it using them to guide her as her touch grew bolder. A careful caress of fingertips turned into palms gliding over Elise’s hips and stomach. Would Elise’s skin there feel like the wonderfully smooth skin of her neck and shoulders?
Each time her hands strayed further up Elise’s breath hitched. With the thick fabric of the stays Elise must have hardly felt her touch. Was Elise that sensitive, or was it the mere idea of Rozenmarine’s hands on her body, on her breasts, that drove those gasps and moans? For Rozenmarine, yes, the thought of her hands feeling that soft skin of Elise’s breasts robbed her of the air in her lungs, left her panting and eager. It wasn’t fair to either of them, all this fabric.
The lacing in the back, she could not see it, but as her fingers ran over the web of lace Elise arched her spine, leaving enough space for Rozenmarine to slowly loosen it. Impatient she pulled at the laces, she knew she shouldn’t. Elise deserved better than Rozenmarine pawing at her like that, but Elise pressed into her body, and she could feel Elise’s hips shift, and Rozenmarine pulled even harder.
“Elise,” Rozenmarine muffled herself against the nape of Elise’s neck. Her own voice was strained with desperation, that greed , that want , it was so unbearable. Rozenmarine had been patient all her life, waiting and waiting for the day she could meet Elise. She was good at waiting, at denying herself, but hadn’t they both waited long enough? “Elise,” she said. Rozenmarine needed to hear it again, hear that Elise too could not wait any longer.
When Elise choked out one more helpless Rosmarine between quiet moans, Rozenmarine finally began undoing the hooks of the stays in the front. There was so little space between their bodies, Rozenmarine’s wrists bended uncomfortably and she knew she was pressing too hard against Elise with her fingers, but what was that against the ache burning away at them both.
This time Rozenmarine just let the piece of clothing fall to the side. Elise looked so lovely like this, the thin fabric of the chemise stretching over her breasts. It was so very lovely that it was overwhelming and Rozenmarine forgot what to do, forgot what to say until Elise wrapped her arms around Rozenmarine pulling her down. Sagging against Elise and pushing her into the mattress, Rozenmarine did not mind when one of Elise’s hands found purchase in her hair, grasping a fistfull of it. When Rozenmarine's palms pushed firmly against Elise’s stomach, and sides, the pain in her scalp felt like a reward. One she wanted to chase, the sting a pleasant contrast to her foggy thoughts. She wondered what it felt like for Elise, the feel of Rozenmarine’s hands and that last bit of friction created by the fabric of the chemise between them.
Elise’s voice was hoarse, rendered to nothing but small gasps and moans in Rozenmarine’s ear. No longer could she mutter that beautiful Rosmarine , telling her of that need building between them. Instead Rozenmarine heard it in those needy whines, felt it in the body restlessly shifting beneath her, and in the way Elise grew so still in anticipation when Rozenmarine’s hand brushed over her chest.
The hands holding Rozenmarine in place grew slack. And then cutting through all those sensations, Rozenmarine heard a whisper so quiet, “ Rozenmarine , … I, Rozenmarine …”
How sweet her name sounded. Rozenmarine , Elise had finally said it, and the relief blossoming in her chest hearing it again, after waiting for so long made her feel faint. Elise said it so prettily. Rozenmarine wanted to hear it again, she wanted to make her say it again.
And yet, Rozenmarine froze. It was so overwhelming, all that want, that greed she had tried to sate, and then something else replaced it as she looked at the strained expression on Elise’s face.
“I am sorry!” Rozenmarine said. She pushed herself back up so fast she felt dizzy, losing her balance and almost falling backwards off Elise.
She had said she would stop. It was what they had agreed upon, she would stop when Elise said her name .
“ Huh? ” Elise looked at her, still dazed, blinking. “Whu– what?” She looked downright confused, raising her head off the pillow, hair everywhere, mouth hanging open.
“You said my name, you wanted me to stop right?” Rozenmarine asked, her heart beating erratically in her chest for many reasons now, one being a horrible realisation dawning on her as Elise stared at her. A realisation that was confirmed watching clarity wash over Elise and with that clarity the lovely colour on Elise’s cheeks paled, only to be replaced by a furious blush.
With a yelp Rozenmarine was shoved off Elise.
“I can’t believe you,” Elise screeched. “You were begging me to say it earlier! You! You! You little…!”
“Why would you say it if you didn’t want me to stop?” Rozenmarine cried in defence.
“I didn’t mean to say it, you idiot!” Elise yanked at the blanket under them, desperately trying to cover herself.
“I am sorry!” Rozenmarine squeaked, and felt her own cheeks heat with shame rather than other emotions she had revealed in just a few minutes earlier. She withered under Elise’s glare who was now wrapped in her blanket, knees pulled up to her chest. Elise was downright glowering at her, the humiliation plain on her face.
“If you didn’t want me to stop, we can still…,” Rozenmarine tried to offer. For one to appease Elise and lessen the sting of embarrassment. And also for more selfish reasons, she would admit to that.
“Are you stupid?” Elise barked. Rozenmarine felt the instinct to duck. How lucky Elise didn’t keep a broom in her bedroom.
“I just thought since you seemed —”
“Goodnight, Rosmarine!” Elise said. With a swift movement she turned to her side, the blanket pulled up all the way to her chin.
“Elise!” That wasn’t fair at all! She hadn’t meant to ruin the mood, she hadn’t meant to make Elise so painfully self conscious. This was all just one big misunderstanding! “Elise,” she said, “please Elise, I am sorry, I won’t do it again.”
“I said goodnight! ”
“But, Elise, how am I supposed to sleep now?”
“You’ll figure something out.”
“Elise!”
“Whining isn’t cute, you know,” Elise muttered.
Maybe Rozenmarine was whining, maybe she was also pouting a little. This was terribly unfair. “I thought it was when you did it earlier.”
Elise’s pillow hitting her in the face was a lot less soft than Rozenmarine had imagined.