Work Text:
Bette returned home after a long day of work. She opened the front door, put down her handbag and went outside to retrieve her mail. As she opened the mailbox, she noticed a letter that was not addressed to her. She picked it up, looked at the envelope, and saw that it was addressed to a certain "Mr. F".
"It must be a mistake by the postman," she thought.
She put the envelope on the kitchen counter to go take a shower. Once comfortable in a tank top and sweatpants, she settled on her couch with a bowl of noodles and the mysterious letter.
Bette knew the letter was not for her, but her curiosity got the better of her principles and she opened the envelope.
Upon opening it, a sweet smell of vanilla and rose reached her nose. The letter was written on a pale pink paper that had been marked here and there by carmine lipstick stains. She felt a twinge of regret as shivers ran down her spine. But she loved these kinds of games.
Taking note of the details, she noticed small flowers instead of dots on the "i", a pretty, almost school-like, handwriting, and a few spelling mistakes.
At the end, as a signature, "your sexy little blonde." A smile formed on her face as she felt the emotions overwhelm her. She was intrigued, excited, even surprised at the idea that this blonde would call herself that.
But she loved these kinds of games and, believe it or not, she fell in love with it.
The mysterious blonde wrote that on Sunday, she would be on the cliff. "Our cliff," she said. And if no one came, she would end up 30 meters below.
Bette was taken by a slight panic. She straightened up a little as she read those words. She had to go, she had to save this blonde from herself.
But she loved these kinds of challenges, because, believe it or not, she fell in love with it.
And thanks to the postmark, she managed to find the famous cliff.
On Sunday morning, she was at the outpost. The place was deserted. She had to be patient, there weren't a hundred suicidal blondes.
She was on the edge of the cliff when Bette recognized her. She grabbed her by the sleeve, and the beautiful blonde turned around, surprised. Bette then saw something strange in her eyes, a deep sadness that made her shiver. Then, the brunette's gaze continued down her body, noticing a round belly under her chest. She was pregnant and was going to take her own life, taking her child's with her. Bette had saved her. A deep sadness was visible in her eyes, reddened by tears. She smiled.
"Thank you," was the only word she spoke, with a relieved air.
Bette remained silent, staring at her. She could feel the distress and pain in the blonde's eyes, and she knew she had to act quickly to help her. She took her hand and gently pulled her towards her, preventing her from jumping off the cliff.
"Don't do this," she said in a soft, comforting voice. "I'm here, you're not alone."
The blonde lowered her head, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know what to do," she murmured. "I'm alone, I'm scared, and I don't want my baby to grow up in such a dark and hopeless world."
Bette hugged her, whispering reassuring words and giving her all the love and strength she could. She felt as if she were holding life itself in her arms, and she wouldn't let anything happen to this woman or her child.
Finally, after long minutes of silence, the blonde pulled away from Bette and smiled at her. "I don't know how to thank you," she said. "You saved my life, and my baby's."
Bette smiled back at her. "You don't have to thank me," she said. "I'm just glad you're still with us."
The two women stood on the cliff, watching the sunset and holding each other. They didn't really know each other, but something deep and powerful had bound them now, and Bette was determined to be there for the blonde every step of the way in her life.