Chapter Text
Zosia didn’t come to Church or Thursday night discussions for the next two weeks. Punishment. This was punishment, and Carol was sure of it. She stood at the pulpit and scanned the congregation at each service, her eyes bouncing from the third pew to the back pew. Anywhere Zosia has ever sat. Empty. The absence hit her harder each day, and it killed her that no one else seemed to notice the other woman was missing. Her Zosia.
Each mass she got through on autopilot, her voice was firm, robotic. The same handful of parishioners greeted her at the end. Mrs. Metz had asked if she was feeling alright, and Carol said she was fine, just tired. The first week without her, she returned to the rectory and sat on the same sofa where they’d been tangled together just seven days before, and told herself this was for the best. Carol agreed, Zosia was right, the brunette should just disappear. She was foolish for thinking this could ever work or be anything more than a mistake. Carol removed the collar from around her neck and felt the sting of a bruise from where Zosia bit her and let out a quiet sob.
The second Thursday night discussion without her hurt much more than the first. At least a week ago, she could hope Zosia would return tonight. She always included a chair for her when setting up, aching for her arrival. Carol thought this outcome might be easier than the alternative, seeing her around, pretending nothing happened in front of people who had held her accountable for the past three years. But when she looked at the empty folding chair where Zosia usually sat across from her, slightly removed from the others, she felt nauseous.
A college student whose name Carol could never remember said something about the nature of sin that Carol didn’t really hear because she was staring at that fucking empty chair. Thinking about Zosia’s hurt, soft voice while in her lap saying, I don’t let myself need people. She was struggling to make it through the rest of the night.
After everyone made their way out the door, Carol stacked the chairs alone for another week. Her eyes were constantly checking if Zosia would magically appear behind her, half-expecting the woman to walk through the archway and help like she always did. To look at Carol with those dark, knowing eyes and ask more questions Carol didn’t have the answers to. But she never showed up.
By the end of the second week, Carol began to unravel. She was too much of a coward to break their unspoken rule of no-contact. But she wasn’t sleeping well, the sofa felt wrong now too, nowhere to escape. Everywhere reminded her of Zosia. During the second Sunday service without her, Carol stumbled over her words during the homily. She skipped a passage in the scripture reading and had to start over, her body boiling with embarrassment. No matter how many times she looked up, the third pew stayed bare.
Carol settled on the reality that she deserved this because she broke the rules. Her own rules. She’d let herself want something she had no right to want this bad, and this was the consequence. Forever alone. She was being rather dramatic about it. Carol convinced herself of a lot of things, but none of them helped her forget Zosia’s lips pressed into hers.
“Pastor Sturka?” Mrs. Chen’s voice cut through the fog. They were standing near the back of the church after the service. “Did you hear my question, dear?”
Carol blinked and refocused. “I’m sorry, could you repeat it?”
“I asked whether you think the man on the road deserved what happened to him. From the reading? He was left beaten and alone.” She was serious.
Carol’s voice felt slow, wading through the mental sludge to answer. “No, but” she paused, “some say suffering humbles us. It can prepare us for mercy.”
Mrs. Chen stood still, frowning, “But the priest and the Levite passed him by without helping? I don’t think anyone should be left to suffer.”
Carol took in a deep breath. She was not in the mood for any philosophic conversation this early in the day, or at all, for that matter.
“I’m well aware of the story, I just-” Carol pressed her fingers to her temples, clearly distracted.
Mrs. Chen spoke gently, “I’ll let you go, you should get some rest.”
“I’m okay.” The sharpness in her voice startled the elderly woman and Carol herself. She sighed and pulled at her collar. The faint discomfort left from Zosia’s teeth rubbed against her finger. It felt like she was suffocating.
Mrs. Chen offered a compassionate smile and left the small room to exit through the main entrance. Carol's body went still as she stared at the empty space in front of her. Alone.
Her brain suddenly hit her with a shocking idea. The registration forms. The Thursday night discussion forms that everyone fills out the first time they come, with their names and addresses in case of an emergency. Zosia had filled one out. She remembered observing her handwriting, slightly messy, hesitating before writing out her private information in front of Carol as if she’d steal it. If she won’t come to me, I’ll just go to her.
Carol filed it away with all the others in her private study, right cabinet, second drawer. It was there this entire time. She could go to Zosia’s. Go to her and-
Carol paused in front of the metal filing system. Her more rational side started to take over. What? Go and show up like a stalker? Say she misses her? That would be pathetic. But then she thought of the alternative - never knowing, or worse, never trying. That felt more damaging than rejection or looking like a crazy person at another woman’s doorstep.
She pulled out the folder and flipped the corners of paper until she saw the one with Zosia Orzech written at the top. She quickly scanned to make sure the address section was filled in. Bingo. Address: 4117 Cresson St. Apt. 2, not far, about a twenty-minute walk. Carol stood in her pastor's study, holding the form. The feeling was similar to standing at the edge of a cliff. Maybe Zosia moved on. What was she thinking? But what if she didn’t? Carol decided she was going to her apartment. It was final.
Carol eagerly changed out of her pastoral collar and into civilian clothes. She didn’t want any extra time to rethink her decision. She pulled a black turtleneck over her head, the bruise on her neck was barely visible now, but she still preferred to remain cautious. Carol kept her black trousers on and slid her feet into clunky boots before fluffing her hair with her fingers. She slid a tinted balm stick across her lips and grabbed her bag before rushing out the back door. Carol could still turn around, but she didn't want to. God help me.
Carol found herself at the front of Zosia’s apartment. It was a grayish-tinted row home with several floors, an orange door in front, and black trim around the windows. Nothing special, just another residence in a strip of others. Carol buzzed the appropriate bell for Zosia’s place and waited a few minutes. No answer. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. Maybe she wasn’t home. This was dumb. Carol thought to herself before pressing one more time. Then the intercom crackled to life.
“Yeah? Who is it?” Zosia’s voice sounded distorted through the box, but unmistakably hers.
“Uh…it’s Carol.” There was only silence after. “From St. Mag-” she started to explain before the muffled voice cut her off.
“I know who you are, Carol,” Zosia said plainly. The door clicked open. “Come up the stairs, I’m on the right.”
Carol let out a deep breath and pulled the door forward, stepping inside. The stairway was narrow and dimly lit, the walls painted a dingy white. Carol climbed the steps slowly, her legs barely supporting her, mind racing. What if Zosia never wants to see me again?
Apartment 2. The door was left ajar, and Carol could see Zosia’s shadow from inside. She carefully knocked before the brunette swung the door wide open, gesturing to enter her living space. She looked the same as two weeks prior. As if she’d change in such a short period of time. But Carol assumed she’d look as much of a mess without her as she had been since she left. Her walls were painted with a sage hue, and Carol noticed she had greenery hanging from the corners of her windows. Leaves are falling onto her floor from hanging garlands. An ashtray sat on the corner of the window and the place smelled of citrus incense sticks. Earthy. It was homely, lived in, far from the barren atmosphere in her rectory. There were artistic paintings and photos of naked women and female anatomy on the walls, sketches and photos she likely bought at a local flea market or museum. The place was so beautiful, Carol thought to herself, with Zosia standing in the middle of it. The younger woman looked small, despite being taller, and Carol felt an overwhelming rush of want crash over her body.
“I-” Zosia stepped back, “I’m sorry…I should’ve…” she really didn’t know what to say to the woman who had consumed her thoughts for the past two weeks. She felt like shit for disappearing again, like always. Carol looked hurt. Zosia could tell she made her worry and wanted to crawl into a hole and die for it. Carol didn’t deserve this, she was just being kind and didn’t want to be alone. What did I do? Zosia sat down and reached into the crack between her armrest and chair cushion to pull out a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one without a second thought. She needed a crutch to face Carol’s look of despair. She took a drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke out the window to her right.
“I warned you,” Zosia said as she put her head down and flicked the ash off the edge of her cigarette. “I disappear.”
“I…” Zosia paused before continuing, moving her head back in thought as a sudden realization hit her.
“Wait-How…How did you know where I live?” Zosia furled her brows.
“Well-um…the form…remember you filled out a for-” Carol stuttered her words, ashamed at the absurdity of her actions.
“Right.” Zosia interrupted, and she huffed out an amused chuckle. Carol was desperate. It would be a lie to say it didn’t turn her on a little.
Zosia wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion. She only had an oversized hoodie on that came to her thighs with a pair of lace red underwear underneath. Her hair was unbrushed, and her voice was still raspy from waking up about an hour ago. She didn’t miss the 8 AM alarms the past two Sundays to see Carol shaking at the pulpit. Zosia valued her sleep…and her sanity.
Carol’s gaze snagged on the bare length of Zosia’s legs and the way the fabric slipped higher as she leaned against the window frame. The red lace peaking out at Zosia’s hips burned through her like a flare.
“You look a mess,” Zosia blurted out, not too unkindly.
Carol let out a hollow laugh. Unreal. “Yeah? Well, I feel worse.”
Another drag. Smoke curled between them, then drifted out toward the crack in the window. Carol shifted her weight. She began to feel out of place in this small room the other woman felt so dominant in.
“So, why did you come here? To my apartment?”
The words felt chilly in Carol’s mind. Why? Good question.
“You stopped coming to my church. I thought something…something could have happened to you.” Carol stuttered. “You wrote your address in case of emergency, so…I figured-”
Zosia had a good laugh at that one. She snuffed her cigarette out before standing up. The two were standing dangerously close to each other now. Zosia leaned in toward Carol’s face, mere inches apart.
“You should’t just show up at people’s doors,” Zosia smirked, but didn’t step away.
The narrowing space made Carol move back, their breaths interwining in the thick air dividing them.
“Then tell me to leave.” Carol gulped. “Go ahead, say you’re better off without me, that way I can just accept it and…and-” Her eyes frantically darted around Zosia’s face. Her eyes. Her lips. Her nose. God, she missed all of it so much.
A beat.
Zosia stepped forward to make up for the space Carol created a moment before.
Her voice was deep, no louder than a whisper. “This is a mistake,” Zosia said, though her body had already leaned in.
Carol couldn’t hold back anymore. Her body lunged forward, and the space between their mouths rapidly disappeared as their lips crashed together, the tension humming in their throats. The first touch after weeks felt electric. Zosia’s hand fisted the front of Carol’s coat, yanking her closer. Carol answered by sliding her palm to the small of Zosia’s back beneath the thin cotton of the hoodie, her fingers shaking because of the contact. Carol reached her other hand around the front and cupped Zosia’s bare breast. The brunette let out a quiet moan and flung her head back.
Carol could taste smoke and the faint sweetness of sleep. She tasted like the cure to everything that had ever ailed Carol.
Zosia briefly pulled away, voice trembling with want, “Stay, you can stay.” She felt Carol’s smile against her lips and walked backwards with the older woman to her bedroom. They moved together slowly until the backs of Carol’s knees met the edge of her bed. She moved the older blonde woman down, going along with her, and their breaths sharpened at the motion.
“Is this okay?” Zosia checked, brushing a strand of hair from Carol’s face, her fingers lingering at the side of her throat.
“Please, yes, please.” Carol moaned out permission while grabbing at Zosia’s hoodie to remove it.
Zosia pushed Carol down onto the bed further, her flesh completely naked except for the lace covering her most sensitive area. Carol’s back hit the mattress, and she reached for the base of Zosia’s neck, tugging her closer into their kiss. She wanted to touch every inch of her body, flush with warmth and the smoothest tanned skin in the dead of winter. Her breasts were perfectly rounded, better than any of the art decorating the walls surrounding them. Carol was falling into temptation. She leaned forward and took Zosia’s swollen nipple between her lips, softly sucking and biting at something she had only seen through the fabric of her clothing for the past two months. She let out a high-pitched noise at the sensation of Carol’s teeth around her and dug in harder.
“I want you to touch me,” Carol growled in Zosia’s ear, her voice growing desperate.
The brunette sat back and gently spread Carol’s legs apart, pulling down her black trousers and tossing them to the floor. The site of both of their belongings now. Carol helped by pulling down her own boxers. Simple black cotton stained with her dampness down the middle. It was just like the dirty visions she’d picture at night to get herself off. Except the real thing was unbelievably better. Fuck. Carol cried out.
She felt Zosia’s nose brush against her clit as her tongue lapped up her wetness. Embarrassingly, too much of it so early. She felt the vibrations of Zosia’s satisfaction.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Zosia lifted her head with a wicked grin, “You’re very wet.”
Carol rolled her eyes back. She wasn’t sure if it was out of shame or pleasure, but she didn’t want her to stop. “Jesus, just fuck me already.” She was losing patience.
Zosia stuck her two fingers inside Carol’s tight core and felt her insides contracting around her. She pumped them back and forth, quickening the pace at every gasp Carol let out. She leaned down, slowly kissing the sensitive area looming above and up her thighs. Carol could feel herself getting closer, it didn’t take much. It had been years since she had been fucked. Her legs went weak and bent around Zosia’s head.
“You’re so close, baby, come on,” Zosia moaned into her core. The sound of a woman’s voice calling her baby was enough to send her over the edge. She grasped Zosia’s hair and let out a pathetic moan as she came harder than ever before. Black stars flashing in her vision, her whole body pulsated, and the feeling of Zosia inside of her kept her in a state of aftershocks.
Mmm
Zosia moaned as she slowly withdrew her fingers and sucked the slick off in her mouth. Carol took a sharp breath in at the sight and watched, dazed, as Zosia knelt between her thighs. Her lips glistened in the dim morning light, and Carol’s pupils were wide with hunger. Carol’s hand trembled as she reached out, tugging the younger woman upward. Zosia took her time crawling up the pale body beneath her, slow and deliberate, letting the bare skin of her torso drag along Carol’s trembling stomach. When their faces finally met, Zosia kissed her, unhurried, sharing the taste of her.
Carol’s skin was garnished with goosebumps as she shivered at the intimacy of it.
“I missed you,” she whispered in a raspy, unvarnished voice.
Zosia’s eyes melted at the sound of Carol’s needy words. Her heart sank at the thought of leaving Carol for the past two weeks. “Don’t say that,” she grumbled as she dusted her lips over Carol’s before gently kissing her again. The blonde let out a whiny groan at her response.
“I missed you, I missed you,” Carol repeated in a whisper while pressing soft kisses around her face, defying the woman’s orders. Her hands continued to roam over Zosia’s back and down to the curve of her waist. “Let me see you,” she said, her voice steadier, now set on only one intention. Zosia slowly nodded, lifting herself back on her knees. She glided her thumb inside the scalloped, textured band of her undergarment, pausing only for a second to ask for permission.
Carol answered with a tug on the back of her thighs, and Zosia carefully slid the lace down, baring herself completely. She was so fucking beautiful like this, her skin flushed and glowy. Carol sat up, cupping Zosia’s thighs, and spread them apart as she pressed kisses to the skin dividing her legs from her core, soft and savoring.
Zosia’s breath shuddered as her hands found Carol’s shoulder blades. She could feel the older woman’s lips pressed against her clit, aching from the anticipation. Her nails dug into skin as Carol’s tongue sucked and spread across her core. “God, I-” Zosia gasped as she traced lazy circles, teasing, tasting every inch of her. The brunette’s hips rolled forward, harder than she anticipated, and her thigh muscles tensed with every vibration of Carol’s moans.
Carol looked up. She’s never seen her look so weak, and she desperately wanted to please her. “Come for me. It’s only fair…I want to see you fall apart like I did for you,” she whispered, her voice sounded so deep and controlling.
Zosia’s answer was a desperate moan as Carol curled her index and middle fingers inside the woman. “Fuck. I’m-” Zosia flung forward, losing her composure as her movements grew more insistent. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing and obscenely loud sounds of pleasure. She could only hope her neighbors weren’t home. Carol grabbed the back of Zosia’s bare ass to support her as the brunette fell onto her, gasping as she came. Hard. Her voice hitched as she heard Carol repeating words of encouragement as she collapsed from the high.
Yes.
Yes, Zosia.
You’re so perfect.
Good, baby, yes.
The two fell back onto the bed, exhausted, sweat dampening their skin. Carol was in a state of shock. She had no idea what possessed her body this instant, but it felt so natural. Everything suddenly made sense to her. The room sat silent for a few moments as they caught their breath. Carol looked down and noticed Zosia’s hand was draped across her bare stomach, rising and falling with her.
Zosia interrupted the hum of silence with a low, contented sound.
“That was,” she paused as she took in her surroundings, slightly surprised at what Carol was capable of doing to her, “You are…fuck.” Her voice sounded warm and a little smug. She turned to Carol and slowly brought her hand up her body.
“Are you sure you’ve - Like never?” Zosia raised her eyebrow and looked dumbfounded.
Carol’s face flushed a bright red as she shook her head into her pillow, “Only you.”