Archive of Our Own

Cuddles and blood drinking- oh my!

Part Two

Tonight You’re Mine

...

“Do you think about the future?”

Bella does- Bella’s been thinking about it a lot lately, and she’s fairly sure the reason why is sitting right next to her in the cab of her truck.

“What’s to think about?” comes her response. “Time means nothing to me, Bella. You know that.”

Bella does know that- she’s been told it often enough when the topic comes up, but still… a part of her hoped maybe the answer would be different this time. 

She always hopes.

Fighting back tears, she looks forward. “Right, yeah. Never mind."

They’re parked in the woods, near one of the trails on the outskirts of town. Bella’s classmates come here sometimes, but usually not so late in the night. They'd rather flaunt their debauchery under the safety of daylight, but Bella has no such qualms. She likes the night, and she has nothing to fear except the woman beside her.

And perhaps hope of discussing their future together. That’s apparently too much to ask for.

Frustrated, Bella shoves the truck door open and clambers out. She needs fresh air, and being closed inside this small cab space with the reason for her frustrations makes that impossible. 

Too bad the reason only follows her.

“What did I say now?” she says, her own frustrations seeping through. “You ask me these questions already knowing what my answer will be. Why do you keep asking if you don’t like what I have to say?”

Bella keeps her mouth shut. If she speaks, she’s only going to say something that she’ll regret later.

“Don’t ignore me." Ice wraps around Bella’s wrist, but the touch is gentle- she's gentle. She always is. “Tell me what I said wrong. How am I supposed to fix this if you won’t talk to me?”

Talking usually leads to arguing, and then arguing to crying (for Bella at least), and then days of moping around worrying that she's well and truly fucked up, and that this time there will be no coming back and no apologies. But she always comes back- usually with eyes redder and her temper calmer, but still. She comes back to Bella, they kiss and make up, and all is presumably forgotten.

Bella doesn’t forget though, and she hates that this is what they are.

When she's spun around, instead of words, she lets her actions speak for her. Their mouths meet in a clash of lips and tongue- definitely no teeth- she's always so careful, but unsurprisingly blood is drawn in the process anyway. If Bella can taste it, then she's sure as hell not the only one. 

Dark eyes flutter open, and a growl silences the woods around them. "This isn't talking."

"I know."

Bella grabs the collar of her shirt and drags her in for another kiss- stained this time with the metallic tang of her blood, and she lives for the sounds of pleasure it draws from this beautiful creature in her arms.

Hands simultaneously press and pull at her sides. "Bella-"

"Shut up." Bella growls this time, her own far weaker than her companions. "I don’t want to talk."

"I thought that's exactly what you wanted."

"I've changed my mind," she says, slightly more desperate now. "I just want you."

She always wants her. And as she seeks more, she realises that want tastes of lies.

***

Why this particular memory surfaces on the way back to the bedroom confuses Bella. She expects distress- pain- to follow, as all memories involving her generally do, but when it doesn’t come… she's left to wonder why. Any good memories from that year are dirtied by the splashback of what came after, which frustrates Bella in ways she cannot even hope to articulate with words. So, the absence of them now …

Well, suffice to say she isn't sad about it; only confused. What makes now so different?

"Would you like some dinner?" Tatyana asks ahead of her, breaking her free of her spiralling thoughts. She still has a hold of Bella's hand. "I can have some food brought up from the kitchens. It's a set menu but I think you'll be quite pleased with the selection." She gives Bella a wink over her shoulder. "Our chefs also aim to please."

Fuck.

Bella is wanting a lot of things right now, and although Tatyana is definitely at the top of that list, she is hungry. Her stomach feels painfully empty now that she's conscious of the fact.

"Food sounds good." She's loath to admit it. 

"No allergies?"

"No allergies."

Except perhaps to a good time, because honestly, it feels like Bella's just taking every opportunity to stall this now and she really isn't sure why. She doesn’t want to stall this- she’s almost ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive that this is what she wants, so why is she making it so hard on herself?

She's not sure she'll find an answer to that one anytime soon.

"Dinner will be here shortly." Tatyana tells her when she returns from her call, and bids Bella to follow her into a closet larger than her entire bedroom. Dresses, tops, and formal wear line one side, and shoes the other, but Tatyana goes for the smaller set of drawers instead. She pulls an oversized shirt out from inside. "Put this on," she says, offering Bella a grin. "At least until you're done eating. Wouldn't want to spill anything on your lovely skin and leave a mark."

Bella allows Tatyana to help her slip the shirt over her head. "SpongeBob?" Bella asks, pulled from her thoughts by the splash of colour printed on the shirt. She grins down at it and then offers Tatyana the same look. "I didn't peg you as a SpongeBob fan."

A secretive smile dances along the corners of Tatyana’s lips. "I'm not."

"And yet you just happened to have this floating around your closet?" she teases, noticing how soft the shirt feels on her skin. "Has this even been worn?"

It feels new, she realises, watching Tatyana slip into a black robe. The robe looks softer than her shirt though, and far more expensive. Bella wants to touch it…

Correction: Bella wants to remove it. Food first though.

"Whoever this belongs to," she says, tugging at the long shirt she wears, "They have good taste."

“I agree.” Tatyana meets her eye, and Bella is hypnotised by what she sees there. "Keep it, it's yours."

Bella falters. "But-"

"But nothing." she says, and drifts closer. Bella has nowhere to go except backwards and into the bedroom… and…

Well, to be totally honest, she doesn't want to put distance between her and this intoxicating woman. She takes a shuddering breath, and her lungs fill with that scent again- the same one from earlier.

"I can't just take your shirt."

Give it up, she thinks, take the shirt.

Tatyana tilts her head, and there's that smile again. "Did you hear me say that it was mine?" she asks, and Bella can only manage a single shake of her head. "You look positively delicious in it," she purrs, bringing a single finger up under Bella's chin. "Keep it."

There comes the echoing sound of a knock, and Tatyana’s gaze slides over Bella's shoulder. 

"Enter." She returns her gaze to Bella and smiles. "Now let's get some food into you, hm?"

"... yeah…" she breathes, flesh breaking out into goosebumps as cold lips brush so close to her own. Seems her brain is taking a short break again. "Food is a good idea."

So is forgetting about said food and ripping this shirt off- pushing Tatyana into the dresser and fucking her silly. But unfortunately for Bella, she's about as useless as tits on a bull right now and it's all Tatyana’s fault.

They return to the living space through the bedroom- Bella feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter (or something to that effect)- to find that the table has already been set and the food laid out. The spread makes Bella’s mouth water- there are baked potatoes, roast vegetables, salads, platters of cheese and cold meats, freshly baked bread, seafood, curries, rice, fried chicken…

A slab of rib eye the size of Bella's whole head. She even spies a silver dish with a delicate handle, full of thick gravy.

The room is alive with the aroma of her dinner, and her stomach rumbles in protest of her not marching over there and devouring all of it.

"Well, go on," Tatyana says, and slaps Bella right on the backside with a giggle. "Food won't eat itself, go."

Bella does exactly that, and while she suspects she may look utterly ridiculous loading her plate up half naked in a shirt that falls mid-thigh, she finds a surprising lack of care.

She's pretty sure Tatyana doesn't mind either, given Bella can feel that she's being tracked from across the room. 

Specifically, her arse. She tries to hide her smile as she makes her way to the couch, but she's pretty sure she fails spectacularly.

Oh well. Better to have a great arse than a good poker face. Thoughts thoroughly not on her task, Bella almost spills her steaming pile of food into her lap as she sinks down onto the couch. 

“Fucken hell,” she curses, just managing to catch the plate before it can make a very expensive mess. God, Bella doesn’t even want to think about the bill that she’d be leaving with in the morning- forget about the ensuing medical bills. “Stupid fucken butter fingers- cunt .”

“That’s cute.” A snort of laughter to her side as Tatyana joins her on the couch with more grace than Bella could ever hope to dream of. Bella gives her a look.

"What's cute?" 

"You." The television comes on. “Do you have a preference?” she asks, nodding toward the television. “I’ve been watching a series about serial killers, but I suppose that’s not the mood we want to set for the night, is it? Stalking, intent, murder-"

“I like serial killers.”

Which, you know, probably isn’t the best way to phrase that. She blushes under Tatyana's stare.

“I like watching shows on serial killers. Not actually like fangirling over serial killers.” she corrects.

Amused, Tatyana turns her eyes back to the television. “Thank goodness for that, you were about to be sorely disappointed by my recent body count.”

The show resumes where Bella assumes Tatyana last left it, and she pops a piece of roast potato into her mouth, chews and swallows. “You know, I was informed the other day that ‘body count’ means something very different to what I thought it meant.”

“What did you think it meant?”

“Like, the number of people someone's killed.” she admits, flushing with leftover embarrassment. “I now realise it means something very different."

"I should clarify then that I was referring to the number of people I've murdered, not those I've taken to bed." Tatyana informs her, although Bella had assumed as much. 

She spears a piece of broccoli with her fork, trying not to think about that.

It’s a bit fucked up, she realises- conversations about murder shouldn’t be so… enticing, but shit, Tatyana is basically the epitome of the word, isn't she?

Bella clears her throat and attempts to steer her thoughts in a safer direction.  "The whole conversation was really confusing. Woman came to pick up her car, got the bill and said something about pausing her body count to find a mechanic to marry instead. I had to google it." 

Which… is worse to admit aloud to someone other than herself, Bella realises. But Tatyana doesn't seem to mind- only watches her with that same expression on her face, as though Bella's lack of insight amuses her more than it irritates her.

Bonus points.

She smirks. "Thank god for google then. You could have really put your foot in your mouth with that one."

"Could have," she answers, ducking her head. "Just sort of assumed she was a serial killer and gave her a five percent discount as incentive not to add me to her count."

Bella can tell Tatyana wants to tease her some more, but she's grateful when she simply laughs as though Bella is joking.

If only.

After a moment, Tatyana clears her throat. "Are we going to continue to pretend that I didn't say what I said about murdering people then or…? Seems to be your MO- pretend and hope for the best."

She's teasing her again, and the morbidity of it makes Bella want to laugh, and honestly, she appreciates that.

"I'm not pretending. I just don't really care?" she admits, "And you said recent, so…" 

Tatyana hums. “So… you think that I don’t still murder people?”

Bella grins around another mouthful of food. "I never said that.”

On the television, they're reenacting the capture of a murderer.

“Then why on earth are you smiling like that?” Tatyana asks, laughing in what Bella’s presumes is something between wonder and disbelief. Bella can’t be sure though, because she still refuses to look her way. If she does, she’ll forget all about eating her dinner.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just pretty confident you aren't going to slit my throat while I sleep, that’s all.”

Tatyana had the perfect chance to do so already, when Bella was lying in her bed unconscious. What more perfect opportunity exists than that right there? But Tatyana doesn't laugh at her joke, and the smile slowly slips off of Bella's face.

"I mean," she clears her throat, suddenly not so sure. "Am I wrong?"

She peeks over at Tatyana’s expression, but it gives nothing away.

"Tatyana?"

Is she wrong? Is she going to wake up drowning in a pool of her own blood after all? 

Her brain begins to conjure up all the ways she thinks Tatyana might kill her in her sleep, each more gruesome than what came before.

“I’m not going to slit your throat,” Tatyana confirms, as a smile spreads slowly across her lovely face. "That isn't my style."

Now Bella is thinking of what her style might be. She pictures Tatyana laying over her, how cold her tongue would be on her throat- imagines the sting of her bite as she sinks her fangs in…

Her arousal begins to stir once more. "What's your style?" she asks, damning her breathlessness. It gives her away. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me obviously, but I just thought…”

She’s not sure what she thought- just that she needs an answer to this. Tatyana, however, appears to not want to give her one, and smiling, offers Bella a single shouldered shrug. 

It’s far more casual than the situation calls for, in Bella’s opinion.

“Finish up, Bella,” she says, rather than answer her. She returns her attention to the television. “You’ll be needing those calories tonight.”

The implication rings loud in Bella's ears as she finishes her dinner. Will she be needing those calories for… what- for Tatyana to feed from her?

Fuck.

Bella hopes that the answer is yes. 

Realising she’s becoming distracted from her food again, she hurries to finish what’s left on her plate. It doesn’t take much- one slice of that steak and Bella is lost to the explosion of flavour on her tongue. 

It’s probably the best piece of steak she’s ever put in her mouth.

The realisation that she's not alone hits only when laughter breaks through the fog of ohmygodthisisamazing that’s going on in her head up until that point. She pauses, because really, what’s so funny that Tatyana has to try so hard to stifle her lau-

Oh shit.

The realisation that Bella is licking her plate clean hits with the full force of a semi, and fuck it if she’s at a complete loss on how to recover from this.

"I'm so sorry, oh my god," she says, the words rushing out in a jumble of horror. An apology is probably her only option at this point. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

In front of this goddess!!!!

Licking her plate clean at home is a no brainer, but here? Now? Bella is mortified. She desperately wants to lower the plate, but really- she’s just kind of glad to have something to hide behind.

"No, please don’t apologise! You were enjoying the food, and I’m glad.” Tatyana giggles, but Bella refuses to surface from behind her plate. “It’s truly a compliment to the chef. They’ll be so pleased!”

"Oh my fucking god, please don't!" Bella hurries to say, dropping the plate to her lap. "You can’t tell them!” Bella would prefer it never leave the apartment. Ever. “I'll forever be known as the useless lesbian who chose to lick-" 

She shuts her mouth as quickly as she opens it, but it’s too late. She knows it's too late.

"Oh no, please keep going! The useless lesbian who chose to lick what, Bella?” Tatyana teases, grinning in her attempt to stem her laughter. "I would love to hear more.”

"And I would very much like to crawl into a hole and die." Bella sinks further into the cushions. Maybe if she's lucky they'll open up and swallow her whole.

“Oh, darling,” Tatyana says, continuing to giggle and find this all much more amusing than Bella. She closes the distance between them on the couch. “I can’t help you with the dying part, but perhaps I can offer you a… well… you know… ” she trails off just as Bella feels fingers tickle the side of her thigh, and she doesn’t need to say it- Bella knows what she wants to say.

… a hole to…

… well, certainly not to die in, that’s for sure. Bella’s cheeks flood pink. “You’re going to kill me.” she mutters. 

“No,” Tatyana denies, “we’ve already established that I am not, in fact, going to do that. There’s no fun in playing with the dead. Are you finished with dinner?” 

Tatyana shifts, drawing Bella's attention to her bare legs. 

So finished, Bella thinks, as Tatyana’s eyes drop to Bella’s rapidly pounding heart. “Dessert perhaps?” she asks instead, raising her eyebrow.

No.

Bella can’t answer- Tatyana’s robe has come loose. 

"... me?"

Christ. 

Bella releases a shuddering breath. She spies cleavage in that loosened robe and she wants nothing more than to shove her face in there and never surface again. Fuck oxygen- fuck the need to live and breathe and work. She wants to die happy in Tatyana’s tits. She can practically hear the eulogy now-

… was a simple woman suffocated by the breasts of the dead…

What a way to go though. Suffocated by the most perfect tits in existence.

There are worse ways she could think of leaving the world. Suffocating in the cleavage of a goddess seems pretty gentle in comparison.

Her thoughts have drifted so far from reality at this point that she startles when a cold hand slips up over her knee. 

“Bella?”

“Yes!” Bella rushes to say, realising that Tatyana asked her a question and she’s been too distracted by her tits to fucking answer. Tatyana is smirking.

“Yes?” she asks, her tease accompanied by a soft squeeze of her fingers to remind Bella exactly where her hand is, as if Bella is liable to forget. “Is that a yes to me or to dessert? You’re going to need to be more specific.”

Bella doesn’t need to be more specific at all- Tatyana knows very well what Bella is saying yes to or her hand wouldn’t be crawling up the inside of her thigh as she speaks. It’s making it very difficult for Bella to think, least of all word-

And really, are words that important right now? Tatyana seems to enjoy them, but then again, Bella assumes Tatyana would enjoy what comes with not speaking as well. Her eyes drop to the tops of her tits again…

“You’re thinking too hard,” Tatyana tells her. “It’s adorable.”

Tatyana’s free hand undoes the tie around her hips, letting the robe fall open further.

Finally, Bella sighs, her tits are so beautiful.

“I’m not adorable.” 

Bella is still just staring. Why is she still just looking?

Tatyana rolls her eyes. “You are, but that’s not what I said, is it?” 

There’s still far too much talking and not enough touching. What’s stopping her again? Fingers inch closer and Bella is breathless once more- desperate for Tatyana to stop playing games and just play with her instead.

“It’s what you meant.” 

Shut up, you idiot!!

Those fingers are so close now, Bella’s breath hitches… 

They change direction and the touch moves up over her thigh, slips beneath the hem of her dorky Spongebob t-shirt and teases along her hip bones.

“You’re right,” Tatyana agrees. “Now take off your shirt, oh adorable one.”

In her rush to do as she’s told and toss the shirt aside, Bella forgets to argue her adorableness. She doesn’t care- not about the teasing, and certainly not where her shirt lands, as long as it’s gone from between them. She doesn’t care if Tatyana thinks she’s adorable .

“Come closer.” 

How much closer can she possibly get?

Bella brushes Tatyana’s hand aside, gentle despite her hurry- her need, and crawls into her lap, legs straddling her either side. The cold touches her, she feels it everywhere…

She touches it back, laying her arms over hard shoulders as her fingers wind into soft hair. 

“Much better.”

Bella has to agree.

Their noses brush, and Bella wonders if she were to look, if she would see her own breath between them- so encompassing is the cold of the body beneath her-

Of Tatyana.

And despite that cold, her stare holds the heat of a thousand suns- Bella is sure of it. She can feel it as it makes its way inside her, warming places that Bella has forgotten existed. She tries very hard not to think about the way it settles deep in her chest, and focuses instead on the stillness beneath her- the lack of breath on her lips…

It's just as she remembers, but so much better.

“ Tatyana… ” 

Her call- her plea isn’t much more than a whimper, but she is answered regardless, with a soft growl and cold lips. They capture her own with so much desperation that Bella thinks for a moment that she's imagining it.

She realises then why that earlier memory had surfaced when it did…

Want no longer tastes of lies- want tastes of Tatyana, and it’s such a terrifying, exhilarating feeling that Bella finds herself holding onto it. Maybe not for now, but for later when she’s alone in her apartment wondering what the point is anymore. She’ll think of this right here, and she’ll remember. She’ll know-

… and then remember that none of it was real…

Bella immediately stomps the nasty thought down. 

Tonight, it’s real. Tonight, Tatyana is hers- hers to kiss, and touch, and do all manner of unspeakable things with.

"You smell delightful," Tatyana purrs in between kisses, while Bella takes these small moments to draw oxygen into her lungs. Lips seek her throat, and she cries out. "You smell of passion-" Bella feels a tongue wet her skin, followed by the scrape of something sharp. "-of life."

Bella whimpers- she knows exactly what it is, and the thought of it sets her on fire. If she were to say please, would Tatyana break that last barrier between them? Desire curls her toes, her fingers- twists low in her belly and leaves her wanting more. She pulls Tatyana’s mouth back to hers- her heady moans swallowed by Tatyana’s own. There's no hesitation, no fear, no crippling anxiety or guilt like she feared there would be. Doing this with someone other than her…

… it thrills her- more so when Tatyana's hand dips between her legs, barely brushing the hot flesh there, but touching enough that Bella feels like she's being turned inside out.

In the best fucking way.

She wants so much more, and she's about to beg for it too- willing to beg for it even, but before she can so much as utter a single, desperate plea -

Tatyana is there , and she touches as though she knows Bella through more than just a single evening’s worth of words, as though this isn't the first time that they've been this intimate together. And of course, it surprises Bella, but only for a moment because very quickly she becomes distracted by the quickening pace of the fingers between her legs.

How Tatyana knows what Bella’s body needs before even Bella does…

… she pulls her mouth away with a moan, before burying her face in the crook of her neck. 

Bella wants her to know everything, all of her.

“You want more,” Tatyana teases her, sounding almost as out of breath as Bella is. She takes a hold of Bella’s hip with her free hand to guide her, encourage her, but Bella needs no encouragement. 

“Yes, I want more,” she echoes, urgency in each grind of her hips. She almost sobs. “ Please, Tatyana…” She knows what she wants. “I need you inside.”

There’s no need for more begging, more pleases , because Tatyana doesn’t tease her anymore by denying her what she wants- what they both want. Her fingers slip inside, first only one, but soon a second follows and Bella welcomes her touch with a desperate cry that’s muffled only by the way she presses her face into that sweet spot just above Tatyana’s collarbone. 

Bella is clouded by that scent again- Tatyana. 

“Yes,” she manages to say between panting breaths. “I’m so close…”

And she is, which might have been embarrassing if she were doing this with anybody else, but not here- not her. It feels right, to be driven to this point so easily beneath Tatyana’s hands, which are stronger, gentler, more considerate than any touch Bella has known before.

Hers included.

Tatyana might have proclaimed that she belonged to Bella tonight, but as Bella loses herself to the pleasure mounting inside her, the heady scent of the woman beneath her, the soft growls by her ear and the fingers moving within her, the truth of it is so fucking clear to her that a laugh almost slips in amidst her cries. 

Tatyana doesn’t belong to anyone, least of all her. But Bella…?

“Tonight you're mine…" comes the growl from beneath her, as though their thoughts are one and the same. 

Maybe they are- who is Bella to question it? Tonight, in the morning, into the rest of her life… Tatyana is right. Bella belongs to her, and what a terrifying realisation it is, to have her heart stolen by this goddess who she doesn’t know from fucking Adam. She doesn’t want to think about what it means for her future- she doesn’t want to think about the pain of goodbye, or of a life without this woman in it. Bella’s hips grind down harder, desperate… searching… 

She focuses on now, on the heat in her belly and the warmth in her heart… and as she climbs higher, she holds tighter to the cold, unforgiving presence that holds her so carefully…

… so gently…

… knowing she is hers.

***

They make love well into the early hours of the morning. At some point they move from the couch to the bed, but Bella isn’t really conscious of when that happens, just that it does… because she finds herself being pressed face first into the soft pillows. Tatyana pleasures her like that- arse in the air, neck pulled taut, hand gripped so tight in her hair that it stings…

She shifts at the memory, rubbing her thighs together. It’s where she finds herself still, hours later- warm beneath the thick blankets, but not so hot that she fears she’ll overheat. The only difference lay in the fact that she’s not currently being railed into the bed. Which is a shame, really, but she knows they have time still, should she want it. Although want is perhaps the wrong word to use given she hasn’t stopped wanting it. Her cursed human body just doesn’t have the energy for anymore. Instead, she snuggles closer to Tatyana, grateful for the chill she offers her.

She’s satisfied, more than she has been in a long time and it’s nice, she thinks, not to find herself fighting constantly with her own thoughts and emotions. She simply floats now in a cloud of her and Tatyana’s own doing, trapped ( oh no, help! ) somewhere between sleep and consciousness… aware and yet… not. Her body feels lighter than air…

She’s happy, she realises. It’s a peculiar feeling and one she isn’t very familiar with these days. 

Shifting closer still, a soft noise leaves her throat and draws Tatyana’s attention.

“You’re still awake,” she says in a whisper, and Bella can hear the smile in her voice. “You should sleep, Bella. Your body needs rest.”

Fingers begin to comb through her short hair, and that noise leaves her throat again- this time a little louder. “Feels so nice,” she mumbles into a pillowy breast. “Don’t stop.”

Her words draw a giggle. “That’s why I’m doing it,” she responds, “Weak as a kitten but still so demanding, tsk. Are you like this with all of your lovers or am I just special?”

Bella has enough peace of mind to know she’s being teased again. “... shuddup…”

There comes more soft laughter. “You don’t actually want that,” she says, speaking in hushed tones. “I can hear how your heart rate spikes when I speak. Admit it, you love the sound of my voice.”

Bella does. She can’t lie- wouldn’t even dream of it. But words are hard right now, coherent thought is barely something she’s capable of at the moment, so she presses a lazy kiss to the side of Tatyana’s breast instead. It’s barely a press of her lips really, but it’s enough.

“Sleep, darling,” Tatyana murmurs, “Come morning, I expect you to return all those favours I gave you tonight."

Bella almost opens her eyes when she registers the meaning behind those words, but it feels like her eyelids are glued shut. She groans and becomes aware of the heat returning inside her. She shifts again, this time managing to lift her leg over Tatyana’s. Much to her own disgust though, her leg drops like lead atop Tatyana’s.

She feels like dead weight.

“Really, Bella?” she asks, and begins to shift their position. With a hand to her hip, she rolls Bella gently onto her back, but before Bella can complain about the lack of touch, Tatyana moves with her, adding “Even half asleep you want more. You’re insatiable for a human, you know." A soft growl. "I like it."

Cold lips lay a soft trail from Bella's jaw, down her throat and over her breasts to her navel, and her body shivers beneath it. “Tatyana…” she sighs, silently pleading for more with a lift of her hips. She’s tired, but isn’t it a waste of their time together if she sleeps? Her body says no , but her mind screams yes. “Just one more-"

“No, you need sleep.” she admonishes.

“Please.”

Did she really just whimper? Figures. She can’t open her eyes, but she can embarrass herself with whatever the fuck that just was no worries. There comes another giggle, which blows chilled air across her stomach, littering her flesh with goosebumps.

“Bella, I promise to ravish you come morning, but right now?” she murmurs, pressing one final kiss to her navel before moving back up the bed. “Right now your body is exhausted- you're exhausted, and as wonderful as it makes me feel to know that you can’t get enough of me, I want you to get the rest you need.”

Strange way of showing it.

Bella manages to crack open one sleep-addled eye. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

Bella is waking up a little more now, and her gaze drops to those full lips. “I didn’t…” she trails off, blushing. “I didn’t get to touch you.”

And of course, it didn’t matter because it hadn’t stopped Tatyana from finishing herself off, but even so…

Bella wants to touch so badly, exhausted or not. 

Those lips capture her own. “You will,” Tatyana promises, heat in every word. “I won’t let you run away until you have, believe me.”

Bella doubts that she’ll be running anywhere tomorrow.

“... I have a thigh, you know.”

“So you do,” Tatyana pulls away just far enough that she can peer down at her. “You have two in fact, but I’m still not going to wear you out further by utilising either one, Bella.”

She pouts, grumbling, “Wouldn’t be wearing me out.”

“No, because you’re already worn out.” She drops another kiss to her lips. “But you realise that the sooner you sleep, the sooner you’ll have your thigh between my legs…”

That doesn’t serve as encouragement to sleep. “... not my thigh I want between your legs.”

Thigh is definitely last resort kind of sex as far as Bella is concerned. She envisions what she does want… and it only serves to fuel that heat in her belly. She can feel the slickness gathering between her legs now…

The body atop her stiffens.

.

.

.

.

A growl. “I can smell you. Must you torment me so?”

"You're the one who started molesting me with your lips again!" Bella can't help the way her body responds to that. "If you wanted me to sleep-"

Tatyana shuts her up with a kiss- one where Bella can practically taste her weakening resolve on her tongue. She wiggles her thigh between Tatyana's legs, and that's all the encouragement and convincing that's apparently required.

Tatyana’s head drops to Bella’s shoulder with a groan, despite her valiant effort to keep herself from crushing Bella. But near death isn’t what holds Bella’s attention- it’s instead the slickness that coats her thigh.

Like the rest of Tatyana, there’s no heat to be found here either, which of course Bella knows having previously been in very similar positions with…

But this isn’t like then. 

Tatyana isn’t like her.

She would have just taken it without regard to Bella’s health. Bella would have freely given it, would have wanted it like she does now, but here- now- Tatyana continues to think of her, continues to care…

Turning her head, her lips find the shell of Tatyana’s ear. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, lifting a weak hand to caress the back of her neck. “I’m not going to break if you come on my leg, Tatyana. I’m not as weak a kitten as you might think.”

More like a serval maybe, if anything. They do, after all, enjoy engaging in rough play on occasion, and although laying here while her leg is being humped is hardly something she considers ‘rough play’, it might as well be for how bone deep Bella’s exhaustion runs.

The weight lifts from her collar, and soon she’s peering up into conflicted blood red eyes. "You're trouble- do you know that?" she says, her voice tight with what Bella assumes is restraint. "I should have known you would be. Who else would be destined to handle someone like me?" She shakes her head as though to clear it, the movement so fast Bella nearly misses it. When she manages to get her sleepy eyes to focus on Tatyana's face once more, her expression has shifted to one of excitement. With a grin slow to form on her lovely face, she lowers her lips for a searing kiss, adding in a hushed but quick voice, "Together we will do such beautiful things. You'll see."

Bella's brain is abuzz with so much right now that she doesn’t really register much of what Tatyana says to her in that moment, but she sees the truth- the conviction of it in the way she looks at her. She feels it in the way she kisses her, as though Bella is the air itself and Tatyana is starving for breath, for life-

For her .

Bella doesn't think she's ever been kissed like this, or felt so consumed by one person in her whole life. She wonders what this feeling is, where it comes from, why it exists in the first place… and why her lungs scream out in protest…

She rips her mouth away from Tatyana's, drawing in deep, ragged breaths.

Ah, she thinks, that answers that.

"Hurry," Bella gasps then, glancing down between their bodies. She wants it almost as much as Tatyana does, but Christ , she reminds herself that life is nothing if she can't take the time to savour the finer things in life…

And oh, how fine Tatyana is. She would look upon her for hours if given the choice.

"Oh, Bella… " 

How beautiful her face twists in pleasure as she lowers herself, finally closing that gap… touching…

Bella's grip might be weak as she slides her hands up strong thighs, but she'll be fucked if she's going to let it keep her from enjoying this moment to the absolute fullest. After all, how likely is it that Bella will ever find herself in this situation again- with soft growls in her ear and a beautiful woman grinding against her leg?

Likely never. Not like this, not with this woman, never again, so fuck her exhaustion and the ache between her legs. Bella will enjoy every delicious moment. Screw the consequences, whatever they might be. That’s future-Bella’s problem.

" Fuck ," Bella says, no louder than a whisper. "You're so beautiful, you know that?"

From the soft noises she makes to the way she pulls back just enough to capture Bella’s lips…

Everything about her is beautiful. She's so careful, so gentle, but the way she moves against Bella’s thigh belies her desperation-

Her need .

Tatyana pulls away, breathless and yet obviously not because she has no need for oxygen the way humans do, but even so. Bella is the reason for this, and it’s enough to make her heart swell with pride.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Tatyana breathes, eyes fluttering open beneath her pleasure. “Clearly you’ve not looked in the mirror.”

Bella’s looked in plenty of mirrors, and none of them have returned a vision like the one above her. Her body has far fewer curves and her breasts are definitely not as fun to play with as the ones she reaches for now. She isn’t conventionally ‘beautiful’, not in the way Tatyana is, and that’s okay because she doesn’t need to be, but it is a nice feeling to know that Tatyana desires Bella as much as Bella does her.

She rolls stiff peaks between her fingers, and Tatyana groans low in her throat. “ Fuck…”

Fuck indeed. Touch or no touch, Bella might come before even Tatyana at this point. She pinches a nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

“Bella!” Tatyana snarls, pressing against the side of her face and panting harsh breaths across her heated flesh. It seems that Bella’s thigh just isn’t quite enough though, and Bella feels a hand slip down between them. Her hips start to move faster with her own fingers. 

Bella wants so badly to be that hand, but the second Tatyana feels her begin to move away from her tits…

“No!” she orders, hissing low in her throat. “Feels… good…” 

Well then. 

Bella’s hands return to her breasts, and Tatyana’s eyes slam shut- her head rolls back, neck taut, muscles straining… begging for Bella’s mouth…

But Bella isn’t quite close enough to reach, not without it being awkward, so instead she watches- in awe, enraptured by the sight of this goddess falling to pieces above her. For a small moment, time seems to stop- silence rings loud, disrupted only by the furious pounding of Bella’s own heartbeat in her ears. All Bella can see, feel, and smell is Tatyana and she swears in that moment that she could be drunk from it all alone…

Until with an erratic jerk of her hips, Tatyana cries out and oh, Bella thinks her name has never sounded so good falling from the lips of this woman as it does right now, over and over like a prayer. And Bella answers with soft touches and whispered words of- well, Bella has no idea what she actually says, but…

Tatyana hears her- she hears her, feels her, touches her, and Bella has never felt so seen .

She swears by all that she is that she’s never felt this before, and maybe it’s just Tatyana herself, maybe she has some sort of gift of attraction or something, but Bella is suddenly so sure that there has to be something else at play here. Because this isn’t normal run of the mill, woman-pays-for-sex-with-an-immortal-goddess type stuff, is it?

Uh…

Definite no.

“Oh, Bella, Bella…” comes the pleased sigh above her, “whatever shall I do with you now?”

Bella has an idea. “You could-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she warns in amusement. “It was rhetorical.”

“I have rested.”

There comes a hum, followed by the tease of lips along her jaw. “So, you’re telling me you aren’t overly sensitive right now?”

.

.

.

.

Fucken…

Her shoulders drop. 

"That's what I thought." Full lips trace the shell of her ear. "Believe me, I'm as disappointed as you are, but come morning you'll be raring to go again, I promise you."

"How do you know?" she grumbles, in an attempt to distract herself from the delicious sensation of Tatyana's mouth. 

It’s not working very well.

"I know." She pulls back with an expression that clearly says ' or have you forgotten what I do for a living?'

Bella hasn't forgotten. She stifles a yawn, asking, "Do you often have female clients then?"

Tatyana seems to be rather well versed in knowing how to please them, so Bella does have to wonder. 

"Not often, no." Tatyana answers, nuzzling Bella’s jaw with her nose. "Do you?"

Another yawn, poorly concealed this time. "Do I what?"

Tatyana pulls away with an amused twitch of her lips. "Do you often keep female company, or do you also prefer the company of men?"

Oh. Tatyana is asking about her sexuality. 

Was the flannel not clear enough?

"I'm not attracted to men." she answers in return, remembering their 'little deal'. A question for a question, an answer for an answer.

She allows her gaze to wander, taking in the sharp line of Tatyana’s jaw, her soft lips… the crimson shine of her eyes…

"I'm not sure I'll be attracted to anyone ever again."

Not after this.

"Oh, don't be like that, darling," Tatyana purrs. "You appear quite attracted to me, and I'm usually right about these types of things."

That's the issue, but Bella doesn’t think it's wise to elaborate. "Yeah, maybe you're onto something…"

As long as it isn’t as obvious to Tatyana as it is to Bella, there’s a chance she’ll make it out of this experience without having her heart totally trampled.

That'll be nice.

"Just maybe?" Tatyana’s voice draws Bella from her darkening thoughts. 

"Might be more than a maybe." 

"You don't sound so sure." Fingers caress the side of her face. "Sounds as though I might need to convince you."

"Thought it was sleep that I needed?” Not that Bella is opposed to doing the complete opposite. She’d love nothing more, but she is tired. She can feel the heaviness returning to her eyes now that most of the excitement has settled down. “I think sleep is exactly what I need so that I can wake up and ravish you before my morning coffee."

For a moment Tatyana's mouth downturns with disappointment, but she recovers quickly. "Presumptuous of you to assume I'll be offering you coffee come morning." she teases.

"If you want me to walk out that door as a functional human-being, you'll be offering me coffee."

"Maybe I don’t want you to walk out that door.” she answers, causing Bella’s heart to stutter and damn near fucking stop. “Maybe I want to carry you out instead,” With crashing clarity, her heart begins again. “Have everyone know that I fucked you so thoroughly you can't walk."

Did her heart feel this heavy before Tatyana opened her mouth?

Hoping it’s gone unnoticed; Bella offers a mock glare. "Wouldn't be so far from the truth though."

Please, please, please don’t have caught that…

Tatyana grins. “That will settle by morning, as I said, and then I can fuck you all over again. I'll do a more thorough job the second time around though… put a real effort into making those lovely legs of yours useless for tomorrow."

Bella releases a breath. 

Thank God.

Tatyana appears not to have noticed.

"How do you make that sound both like a threat and a promise all rolled into one?" Bella asks her, genuinely impressed. She’s also feeling the stir of desire poke its head through the fog of exhaustion too…

Tatyana lifts her chin. "It's a gift. Nothing for you to worry about until morning though."

“Do I look worried?” 

The playful kiss Tatyana places to the corner of Bella's parted lips is an answer in and of itself.

Bella doesn’t look worried at all, and she isn’t. Except maybe that she won't get the sleep she so desperately needs because she'll be kept awake with thoughts of what they’ll be getting up to in the waking hours.

That's guaranteed to keep her awake.

Definitely not worried…

She is exhausted though, despite the lingering promises, and she makes a concerted effort to reign it in as she curls up beneath Tatyana's arm. It doesn’t take long for her eyes to grow heavy once fingers begin to trace invisible patterns on her skin.

“Tatyana?” Her words are barely above a mumble at this point, but she feels the fingers on her arm pause a moment before continuing.

Tatyana’s hum sounds like a lullaby. “Yes, darling?” 

It feels so good that Bella makes a noise that could almost be considered a moan. 

“Thank you…” she mumbles into a breast, “for tonight… means… a lot to me…”

The familiar feeling of being carried off to sleep begins to creep in…

.

.

.

“ Sleep , Bella,” comes the whispered words, close to her ear. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Laying upon a still chest, Bella is lulled to sleep not by the soothing sounds of Tatyana’s even breaths, for there are none, but instead by her own. They’re calmer than they have been in a long time. And so as she joins the dreaming, her thoughts drift to that of the woman she lay with… and she enters a world where Tatyana is thinking of her the same way.

But even here, the good dreams never last.

***

“We should do this more often.”

Bella wants to bite- wants to ask whether she means the fighting or the sex, but she chooses silence instead. Disappointingly enough, she knows it won’t matter.

A pleased hum… a cold nose below her ear. 

“Your blood is pumping.”

No surprise after their recent activities in the woods. Nor is it a surprise when Bella feels the sharp sting of her bite against her throat moments later. 

No asking for permission, no granting it… 

They’re past that point, it seems, and usually Bella wouldn’t mind- usually she wants her bite just as badly. Only tonight, not even the hot sex has improved Bella’s mood. She lets her feed though, because her love has worked up an appetite-

She’s hungry.

She always is after sex.

When she’s finished, Bella tastes the metallic tang of her own blood as they kiss… feels the sticky wetness of it as those lovely lips move back to her throat and it smears across her cheek. 

She feels her eyes well up with tears as a tongue laps gently at her throat.

Always so gentle and yet…

Bella never does fall asleep in her arms- despite their lovemaking, despite their quieter moments in the afterglow of it. They cuddle, they talk- Bella whispers sweet nothings into the quiet, and her love listens as she spins tale upon tale as fantastical as her dreams at night…

“... do you not want to talk about our future because… I’m not in it?”

She can’t let it go. 

***

“... Bella…”

“Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

… so much pain… anger…

“Bella, darling,” a soft voice says into her ear, “you’re dreaming…” 

“You don’t like my honesty, Bella. Why is that my fault?”

Fingers brush her cheeks. “... Bella, it’s a dream, wake up…”

“You treat me like a child!”

“... Bella…”

“You are a child.”

Bella wakes with a startled gasp. “ I’mnotachild !” she cries, the words rushing together so closely that they’re hardly recognisable. She sobs, the sound broken. “I’m not… a fucking child…”

Her skin is clammy, the room is dark- she has no idea where the fuck she is or what the fuck is happening. She knows only that horrible moment in the woods and the anger that lingers hot in her veins, because how dare she?

It takes Bella a solid minute of internal struggle to reorientate herself.

Just a dream…

She closes her eyes. "Just a dream." she repeats. 

Or… well, it's real, it happened, but it’s not happening now .

If only Bella could remember that in the heat of the moment.

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

"No.” She rolls over onto her side. Her shoulder is starting to ache having laid on it for too long. "I was hoping tonight there'd be no dreams, but I guess that's too much to ask for."

A cold body rolls with her, but Tatyana is careful not to touch and so Bella has to shuffle back in order to make contact. She doesn’t want to talk about it, but that doesn't mean she wants to stop cuddling. The cuddling is nice. 

Arms wrap around her. "I forget what it's like to dream, and to sleep for that matter."

Bella wonders what it must be like- a world where there's only waking hours, no rest, and no reprieve from the very real struggles of everyday life. Even ethereals must have those.

"Sleeping is my favourite part of the day."

"Despite your dreams?"

She snorts. "Despite those, yeah," she agrees. "There's no pretending in my sleep, no one to judge me or pity me…”

It's just her, a mountain of pillows and her doona, which she can cocoon herself in like a caterpillar and use to hide from the rest of the world. And she does- quite often in fact. 

Bella never does wake as a butterfly though.

"If I could sleep forever, I would."

"I'd be very bored if you did."

Bella isn’t ready to unravel what that means just yet. She’s still shook by awful dreams that tortured her subconscious while she tried to sleep. Instead, she focuses on the lips running up her spine, across her shoulder blades and to the back of her neck, choosing to shove the rest of it aside. 

“What time is it?” she asks, although that topic is also not her favourite right now either. Their time together is getting lesser and lesser, and she’s acutely aware of this fact.

A nose brushes behind her ear. “A little after three.”

So, she hasn’t managed much sleep at all. It explains why her body still feels so heavy, which is made all the more difficult to ignore with Tatyana’s soft touch. The tension in her limbs is already less than it was when she first woke. Speaking of…

The memories of her dream continue to linger, ruining the moment.

“My dreams… they’re memories.” She closes her eyes, focuses on the comforting chill that holds her. “It’s like whenever I experience a moment of happiness, my brain decides to be an arsehole and make me relive the shit all over again.”

Relive it and redden beneath the humiliating sting of it all. The worst part is that while Bella misses it- misses her- she wouldn’t fall at her feet if she were to turn up tomorrow and beg to be forgiven. Bella misses her touch, her kisses, and how she would make her feel, but there was so much more to their whirlwind relationship than just that. Things that her brain thinks it’s important not to forget. 

She might agree if not for the sour feelings associated with those particular memories.

“I hate that I always dream about her." It feels wrong to admit it aloud in Tatyana’s presence, but it feels more wrong to think she's hiding it. “Why is she always there, when she chose not to be here… ?”

Why Bella expects someone who doesn’t sleep to know about the complexities of dreams, she doesn’t know. Perhaps it’s Tatyana’s age.

“She was important to you, that’s why you dream of her.” Tatyana says. “The good, the bad… there can’t be one without the other.”

“She’s not important to me now . She’s not even here.”

A breath of cool air fans out across her back. “She doesn’t need to be important to you now, in order for you to dream of things you shared in the past, Bella. They meant something to you then, and maybe parts of it still mean something to you now, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Bella feels the weight of the arms holding her shift. “It feels wrong.”

She lay in Tatyana’s arms and yet her brain conjures up images of another woman, another time, another place. How can she explain the wrongness of that to her without spilling everything, and having Tatyana think of her as a naive child? It’s embarrassing.

“Tatyana?” 

“Bella…?”

Carefully, she rolls over to face the woman in question, and she’s struck fucking stupid by the way in which Tatyana watches her. She renders her incapable of thought more often than not.

“... I forget what I was going to say.”

What was that about Tatyana thinking of her as a naive child again? Her face burns hot. 

“I've been known to have that effect on humans,” she teases, laying a playful kiss to her lips. “You're by far the cutest yet though. Your cheeks turn pink, and your eyes go all wide and innocent, like a small kitten begging for food."

"A small kitten begging for food? Really?" 

"Really. And just as cute."

Well. Bella doesn’t know whether to voice her offence or thank her for the backhanded compliment. 

"It isn't food that I'm likely to beg for, just so we're both clear on that."

"Just begging for something to eat in general then, yes?"

The effect of Bella's eye roll is ruined by her snort of laughter. "That was awful, and you should feel bad."

"Never."

Good . Bella kind of likes seeing this side of the immortal. It's as dorky as it is insanely attractive. When Bella closes her eyes again, it's Tatyana's smile that she sees, and like a beacon it lights the dark thoughts swirling through her head.

She is hypnotised even with her eyes closed. "Tatyana…?" she says, and is answered by a hum. "I remember what I wanted to say."

Fingers drift gently over her forehead and down behind her ear, lulling her quickly back to sleep. "Then I would love to hear it."

"I…" Bella needs to be quick, before the thoughts flee from her mind. She struggles to find the thread again as she drifts off. "I'm not thinking of her. I haven’t been thinking of her while we…” she trails off, suddenly unsure of how this might come across. 

How else does she convey what she’s feeling into words though? It sounds cheap to her own ears, but it needs to be said. 

“I’ve only been thinking of you.”

It's all Tatyana. Her touch, her smell, her voice, everything- and that isn’t cheap. There’s nothing cheap or fake about any of it, so how can saying it to the woman in question be any different?

It isn’t, Bella realises.

She shifts, wanting to lift her head and glance at the expression on her face, but doesn’t. “I didn’t want you thinking that I was thinking of her when I looked at you, or when you touched me. I’m not.”

“I never thought that you were.”

She swallows, her insides churning. “My dreams though…”

Bella has been comparing them of course, but that’s different. She can’t help that- it’s natural to compare what she’s always known to what she’s experiencing in the moment, and to note how very different both are.

“Your dreams don’t offend me.”

“But-”

“Bella, do you want them to offend me?”

“No!” The word bursts from her lips without thought, embarrassing her. “I mean, no. I don’t want them to offend you. I just thought maybe… maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

Bella isn’t so sure anymore, and if she is, then she’s not sure that sharing it is her best course of action.

“I thought maybe you’d be jealous.” she says finally, whispering the last word. Although she’s not sure if she thought Tatyana would be jealous or if Bella wants her to be. Either way, she feels stupid for voicing it. “I’m sorry. That’s really shitty of me, isn’t it?”

She feels a sigh against her back. “What would my jealousy accomplish?” she asks her, not unkindly. “I’ve known you for a grand total of nine hours, Bella, and yet… it upsets me that your dreams upset you. I’m angry that someone caused you this much pain, and I’m ashamed that it was one of my own kind who did it. I’m feeling a great many things tonight, but nowhere in that tangle of emotions do I feel jealousy.”

Bella doesn’t remember expressly saying that the woman in question was an ethereal, but she hasn’t hidden the fact either. She supposes that it’s been rather obvious.

“Now, if you asked me how I felt toward the woman personally…?” she asks, humming a low and dangerous tune. “Well, my answer would be very different. I feel none too kindly toward her for hurting you.”

Bella suspects there’s more and can hear that Tatyana isn’t quite finished but is holding back from saying what she really thinks. Bella appreciates it, because she never intended for it to turn into a verbal bashing session of any kind, and truthfully, she isn’t sure she’s ready for that anyway.

Leah is the better person to approach when she’s ready for that particular conversation-

Bella shoots up in bed. “Fuck! Leah!” she curses, and quickly dives out of bed in search of her phone. She finds it in the pocket of her jeans, which are laying carelessly on the bathroom floor where she left them. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” She fires off a quick message, out of breath and frantic. 

I’m not dead, don’t call the police!!!!! - B

“Everything okay?” Tatyana has followed her, and Bella looks up from her phone to find her leaning in the doorway. She’s looking more concerned about Bella’s mental health than about whatever Bella is reading on her phone as it lights up in her hand. 

What the FUCK, Bella! - L

“Bella?”

Bella swipes through a dozen missed calls from Leah, two more from an unknown number, and more text messages than she dares to count or open. Her friend’s worry is clear…

And then her phone lights up with a call, and Leah’s name flashes onto the screen. Anxiety gnaws at her insides as she shoots Tatyana a look.

“Just give me one second while I answer this please?” she begs her, tears in her eyes. “This isn’t going to be pretty, but… I’ll explain later, okay?”

Tatyana looks at the phone in Bella’s hand a moment before she nods her head. “Very well. I’ll be in the bedroom when you’re finished.”

Tatyana leaves the room as Bella swipes to answer.

“Bella, where the fuck have you been?” Leah is furious, but there’s no mistaking the terror that quivers her words. “Do you even realise how worried I’ve been? I’ve been calling you for hours! Where-”

“Leah, wow, calm down!”

“-are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”  

“Leah-”

“I swear, if that leech fucking hurt you I’ll kill the bitc-”

“Leah, would you just stop and let me talk!” Bella snaps, her voice a hushed whisper. Like that’s going to stop Tatyana from hearing every single fucking word. She runs a hand through her short hair in frustration. “I’m alright- nothing happened , and you don’t need to kill anyone, so will you please just chill the fuck out for a second? I’m sorry. I forgot to message you.”

Laboured breaths answer her. “Where. Are. You.”

Bella opens her mouth and then closes it again, too stunned to properly respond. Did Leah really just speak to her like that? She pulls the phone away from her ear to check that it’s actually Leah she’s speaking to. 

It is.

“Look, I answered to say I was sorry, Leah. I forgot. I feel bad about that, but don’t think for a second that gives you the right to speak to me like that.” Bella has some laboured breathing of her own happening, through sheer effort of not losing her cool and blowing up at her friend. She grinds her teeth, glaring into the darkness. “I didn’t mean to ignore your calls, alright? But I’m fine.”

“Give me the address, Bella,” Leah says, as though having heard a single word she’d said. “I’m twenty minutes from the city. I’m coming to get you-”

Bella splutters. “Like fuck you are! Can you even hear yourself right now?”

Not hearing her or choosing not to listen, Leah continues, “-should never have let you go in the first place-”

“What, because you have the right to stop me?” Bella feels rage lick at her veins- hot and furious. “You know what? I appreciate that you care, Leah, but you’re overstepping.”

“I’m overstepping?” she asks, and then comes the sound of something splintering as she puts her fist through it. “I love you! And what, because I care that you might be laying in a ditch somewhere bleeding out, that means I’m overstepping?”

Is she for real? 

“If you can’t figure out how this is overstepping, Leah, that’s on you,” she says, “but let’s be clear about something, yeah? You better work it out, because you’ve just royally fucked up.” Bella has to take care not to throw her phone against the wall with her last words, adding, “I’m sorry I worried you. I’m alive, I’m not in danger, and you best turn the fuck around and go home.”

She doesn’t say goodbye, doesn’t hang around to hear Leah’s response. She ends the call and tosses her phone aside. It clatters onto the marble benchtop, but Bella doesn’t care if her phone screen lives through it or not. She doesn’t want to even think about looking at the damn thing again until she leaves in the morning, and even then she might just call it quits and buy a new phone altogether.

At least Leah wouldn’t be able to call her to hurl abuse her way.

Bella takes the moment alone to use the toilet and wash her hands before she returns to the bedroom. Tatyana is lying back against the pillows, one arm beneath her head and the other laying across her stomach, waiting for her with the lamp switched on. Her eyes track Bella’s progress across the room to the bed.

“Guess there’s no point pretending you didn’t hear that.”

She purses her lips. “I could pretend. I’m not sure how well I’ll succeed though.”

Groaning, Bella flops down onto the bed. “She’s such an arsehole.”

“... I don’t disagree.” Tatyana sounds as though it’s difficult for her to say the words. “Is that her?”

Bella gives her an odd look. “Who?”

“Leah,” she says, sneering the word. “Is that the woman you dream about?”

Oh.

Bella shakes her head. “No,” she scoffs, “Leah only wishes she was. She’s as human as I am.” 

It’s a cruel thing to say, but consideration for her friend’s feelings isn’t exactly high on her list of priorities right now.

“Unfortunate. Strangling her won’t be nearly as satisfying.”

Bella wants to tell her she won’t be strangling anyone, but in her current mood she’s not totally opposed to the idea.

“She wasn’t keen on the idea of me doing… this,” she explains, motioning between their bodies. She doesn’t know how else to explain what ‘this’ is. “I promised to let her know I was okay, but I was kind of distracted. I forgot.”

“Not an excuse for her behaviour.”

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, and groans again, slapping an arm over her eyes. “I’m so sorry- I’ve got to be the worst client you’ve ever had, I swear.”

Surely no one who could afford Tatyana’s company would be low enough to bring their drama with them. Seems like Bella just can’t escape it.

“Not the worst,” Tatyana disagrees. “Certainly one of the more interesting though.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She wants to hide beneath her arm for the rest of the night, but there really isn’t much of the night left to begin with. She peeks out from beneath her cover. “Will you tell me a story?” she asks, drawing Tatyana’s interest. “Something that doesn’t involve egotistical arseholes.”

Her grin is weak. “Darling, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that sums up the majority of my species, and therefore my stories."

Bella shows more of her face. “Can’t be all of your stories though. After all, you’re not an arsehole. There has to be more ethereals like you out there.”

“I’m not one to you,” she corrects her, rolling over to lay atop Bella. She grins down at her. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be one. I assure you, given the right excuse, I’m probably worse than even your petty little friend.”

“Oh yeah?”

Tatyana hums. “I’ve had millennia to practise being a cunt, Bella. Don’t underestimate me.”

Bella does try not to laugh- like really, she tries hard, but that word falling from those pretty lips? Tatyana looks like a Queen and holds herself like royalty, and it’s just too funny. Bella breaks out into peels of laughter, worsened only by Tatyana’s indignant ‘don’t you laugh at me’ and the devilish fingers that dance across her ribcage in brutal retaliation.

Death by tickle. The worst fate that there is.

“I give, I give!” she giggles, gasping for breath in her attempt to fight her way uselessly from Tatyana’s grip. “It’s not funny! You’re totally a cunt!”

Even after Tatyana slows her assault her stomach still hurts. “Oh god, it hurts so bad…”

“Stop laughing then.”

“Stop making me laugh.”

Hard to stop when it’s so funny. And it isn’t that Bella doubts Tatyana’s ability to be that sort of person in the right situation, but just hearing her say the word …

So prim and proper, and yet not.

A few minutes pass by, and slowly Bella regains her breath until finally her stomach stops aching. Tatyana watches her with the most wicked of smiles. “So, you survived.”

“Only just,” she says, still panting slightly as she grabs at her side. “Might have cracked a rib.”

“Doubtful. I would have heard that.”

“ Argh , how do you do that?” Bella asks her, totally unprepared for the rush of heat between her legs. She squirms beneath Tatyana’s curious gaze. “How do you make something so gruesome sound so attractive?”

It’s really not fair. 

“It might just be that you’re more of a masochist than you originally thought.”

“Or you’re just unbelievably attractive, therefore everything you say sounds equally as attractive.”

There’s logic in her reasoning. Tatyana laughs. 

"That's also possible."

Tangling a hand through Tatyana's hair, Bella pulls her closer, and begins to lose herself in the swirling depths of her eyes. They're deep… full of age and experiences that are a total mystery to Bella.

She wants to learn them all.

"Seriously though," she says, "you're probably the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. Why?" 

How is it possible? Her flawless skin is pale like death, but there's life beneath it- blood in her veins… just not her own…

Beauty, brains and brutality…

She's literal perfection.

"All ethereals are beautiful, Bella," she murmurs, inclining her head to tease Bella's lips with her own. "Are you saying I'm any more lovely than the receptionist downstairs? Or the handsome door man? The butler?"

"Way more lovely. To begin with, you have these," she grins, palming a handful of tit. "I'm fond of these. They make or break the deal."

"The receptionist has them as well."

"They aren't as impressive." Not that Bella recalls anyway. Everything is still a little hazy from check in. "I have a type, and she isn’t it."

Although she'd been very pretty as well, of course. As Tatyana said, all ethereals were. Bella takes this quiet moment to admire the finer details of Tatyana's face, mapping each freckle, memorising the twitch of her lips and cupping the curve of her jaw…

Tatyana watches her just as intently. "Would you like to know our secret?" 

There's a secret to their good looks? She can't nod quick enough. 

"How familiar are you with Norse mythology?"

"Errr… Thor, Loki… Odin, Asgard, Valkyries…" She mentally ticks off the names and words that come to mind. "That's about it, honestly.”

Grinning, Tatyana teases, "Please tell me you're not getting your information from those silly Marvel films, because that’s exactly what it sounds like to me.”

"No!"

Bella isn’t about to admit that she’s right. That's exactly where her poor knowledge of Norse mythology stems from, and it’s hardly what she would consider 'historically accurate' information. That isn’t Hollywood’s strong point.

"You're such a little fibber." Tatyana’s fingers move, threatening to cause Bella’s all kinds of torture again. "How would you like that story now? Still in the mood to listen to an old woman talk?"

Old woman? Bella tries not to let on how funny she finds that statement, whether there's truth to it or not.

"Tell me everything."

"Darling, there's not enough hours in the day."

"Tease," she grumbles, although her excitement doesn’t dim. “Okay, so tell me all about Norse mythology then. Enlighten my poor self with your vast knowledge.”

Tatyana’s eyes drift to the bedside table, where a digital clock blinks at them. “Again, not quite enough time for that either, but I can tell you the story of Freya and Odur. That’s probably the most relevant.” Her eyes meet Bella’s again as she teases, “You do know who Freya is, I hope.”

Bella’s expression turns sheepish. “Sort of. She’s a goddess of something, right? I can’t remember what though.”

Tatyana rolls her eyes, but she wears a fond smile as she does so. “Freya was the Northern Goddess of beauty and love-”

“ Of course she was.” Her interruption is followed by a playful slap to the side of her hip, and Bella snorts with laughter. “Okay, okay… apologies! Do continue.”

Tatyana narrows her eyes but begins to speak. “- and so fair and graceful was she that the gods honoured her with her own realm… Folkvang. She would take those who loved her there when they died.”

Bella considers her words. “I thought that was Valhalla?” 

“Valhalla is home to Odin’s hall, not Freya’s. Freya’s great hall was called Sessrymnir.” she explains. “You said you know of the Valkyries? Well, as fair and graceful as Freya was, she was also a fierce warrior. She was known to lead the Valkyries onto battlefields atop her own gallant white steed, which is where she would claim her slain warriors. They would return with her to Folkvang to live a life of which they had never known on earth, where they would be joined by their lovers and their wives."

So… Bella narrows her eyes in thought. She and Odin shared the dead then…?

“Her hall was unlike any other. Such splendour in death was unheard of, and so of course, it’s no surprise that she became the symbol of love and courtship, and through that… new life. After all, what comes from the love of man and woman?” she asks, and here, she grins. “So, to cut a long story short, Freya married Odur, who symbolised the sun, and together they had two daughters. She was so happy, so in love- what more could she have asked for? Life was perfect.”

This time it’s Bella who becomes suspicious. “There’s a but in there somewhere…”

Tatyana catches her eye, searching… wandering…

“Odur liked pretty things, and he grew bored of Freya. He left.”

“Cunt.”

“Men.” Tatyana agrees, smirking as she meets her eyes once more. “This broke Freya’s heart, of course. She loved him, despite all of his flaws and misgivings. He was the father of her daughters. But her despair cast a shadow across the earth, and no longer could she find it in herself to bring love to those around her. She was failing in her duties as a goddess, and so she went in search of him.”

As Bella listens, she tries not to let herself judge Freya for her desperation. After all, Bella didn’t go hunting for her when she left, but then… Bella isn’t the goddess of love either. Maybe that's the difference. 

“As the story goes, she finds him, they fall back into each other’s arms and all is forgiven. They return home and the earth blooms once more beneath their love.”

Bella’s expression must speak loudly of how she feels about that, as Tatyana laughs and lays a playful kiss upon her lips. “I know, it’s a very lacklustre way to end an otherwise interesting tale about a scorned woman, but it’s relevant I promise you.”

“I’m trying hard to figure out how,” Bella responds. “If you try to tell me you’re one of those two daughters, I will hit you.”

That she thinks Tatyana is full of shit goes unsaid, but she certainly implies it.

“You’d break your hand.”

“Worth it.”

“Is it though.”

There’s a full fifteen seconds that passes where they just… stare each other down- each second more tense than the last…

The silence is deafening.

Bella’s lips twitch. “I’m trying so hard not to laugh.”

A fine eyebrow raises. “How is that working out for you?”

Not so great, if Bella’s being honest with herself. She’s not even sure what she finds so funny- just that it is. Her eyes narrow and her lips start their traitorous ascent. “Are you going to finish your story?” she asks, deigning not to answer. “I’m still trying to decide whether I’m leaving here with a cast on my arm or not.”

It looks as though Tatyana considers the possibility of not continuing her story, but with a roll of her eyes, she admits, “I’m not one of Freya’s daughters. Your hand may remain unmolested and unbroken. But you aren’t far from the truth…”

She’s somewhat surprised by this. 

“Among our kind, there’s a coven of ancient ethereals who keep records of our history,” she tells her, “Ancient texts, artefacts, historical literature… you name it, they have it buried deep beneath their castle, in their catacombs.”

Bella is flooded with images of poorly lit tunnels, lined from floor to ceiling with the bones of the dead, and wonders why on earth the first ethereals thought it was a good place to have a room dedicated to such things built there.

Easier to guard perhaps.

“In these catacombs, they keep our lineage.”

“Tatyana, you’re killing me by dragging this out.” Bella is way more invested than she originally thought she would be. 

“The secret to our beauty?” she purrs, lowering her lips so close that Bella feels the breath of her words, “I’m not Freya’s daughter, but I am a descendent. Not through her daughters Hnoss or Gersemi, no, but from the children she created in her anger with Odur…”

Tatyana is descendent of a goddess? 

“Freya spent months looking for Odur. Could you imagine?” she asks Bella, shaking her head. “Knowing that the love of your life was going to such great lengths to not be found? Her despair turned bitter with her failure to find him, and so she wondered at her powers as the goddess of love and of life. What was the point?”

Bella closes her eyes. She hates that she's reminded of her own similar story.

“And so she abandoned her travels and flew into battle one day, her steed having heard her call and come to find her. She selected her twelve children from the slain warriors, promising them the wealth and charm of her hall… but she never returned to Folkvang with them.”

“What did she do?” Bella opens her eyes to find Tatyana watching her.

“Freya thought ‘what an offence it would be to Odur, to create a being that shies from him-from the sun- the way that he shies from her!’ " Tatyana's voice changes with the impersonation, and Bella hears the rumble in her words. "She pulled a dagger from within her flowing robe, and offered these slain warriors a different fate. Running the dagger across her wrists, both began to flow. She offered this godly wine to these warriors, asking them if they would accept her decision.”

Bella’s stopped breathing again. She feels the burn in her lungs.

“In pairs, her twelve children stepped forth and put their mouths to her flowing wrist, where they suckled ‘like babes at the breast .’” Tatyana makes a face as she says this part, adding, “An awful term if ever I heard one, but alas. Freya watched as their bodies changed before her, as the grotesque wounds from their deaths healed, and they became stronger and more beautiful than any living creature before them.”

“Living?” Bella asks. She doesn’t want to interrupt, but she finds that she has to. “You said they were dead.”

“And they technically still were, but not the way they would have been if Freya had taken them to Folkvang. Living but not…” Tatyana trails off for a moment. “They were neither human nor dead. They were something else entirely.”

.

.

.

.

Ethereals.

She doesn't say it. She doesn't need to.

Tatyana meets her eye. “They would forever shy from Odur’s warmth for fear that it would burn them, as he had burned Freya. They would be allowed to walk among the living, she told them, but for a price. A life for a life… blood for blood.”

“Why?” Bella is horrified by the truth of it. Not so pretty a picture as the one Hollywood paints. “Why would the goddess of something so pure do something so-” But she stops herself, realising how it might sound, and her face flushes. “I don’t mean that-”

“I know what you mean. It’s okay.” she says. "I wouldn’t argue with your assumption. What she did… she did out of cruelty, and while that’s far from okay… I wouldn’t be here today, if not for her actions.”

There's so much to process. Bella isn’t sure she even wants to try right now. She expects it will take much longer than the hours that they have left together to wrap her head around everything that she's been told.“What happened to them?” she asks, unable or unwilling to let it go. She isn’t sure which it is. “Her children… what happened to them when Freya found Odur?”

Because Bella isn’t smart, but she can do the math. Tatyana isn’t old enough to have been one of the twelve, unless of course she had lied about her age, but Bella doubts that’s the case. What would she have to gain by lying about that?

“They went their own ways. Some returned to watch over their families, some for revenge, others just… blended into the shadows.” she says. “But with solitude comes loneliness, and so they wondered if they could do what Freya had done. Could they create others like them through their own blood? It was Freya’s to begin with so surely it was possible, yes? And so Freya’s gift kept giving, and here we are.”

“That’s…” Bella doesn’t have words, but she suspects her expression says it all. “You said they keep your lineage, right? Does that mean you know which of the twelve you’re descended from?”

Does Tatyana know the name of the person who is the sole reason for her existence right now?

She shakes her head. “Perhaps if they’d been able to retain some of the twelve's DNA back then- like a blood sample- then maybe we would be able to trace our bloodlines today, but as it stands…”

“You’re just left to wonder.”

“Exactly,” she hums. “There’s very little written about them in the texts, and I suspect that was done on purpose so that they could simply disappear, as they have done."

Imagine that… Just being able to continue Freya’s bloodline like that and simply fade into the background unnoticed…

… lost…

Hidden.

As Freya had, essentially, requested of them.

“That’s amazing,” Bella breathes, and then quickly adds, “I mean, it’s heartbreaking as well, but…”

“I know what you mean.” she says with a soft laugh. “I feel torn about it myself, as most of our kind do, I imagine. But now you know the secret. I’d say you're now one of a small handful of humans who do, Bella."

"Why did you tell me?" she asks, wanting to know what makes her so different. "Not that I plan to repeat anything that's been said here outside of this room, but…"

She burns to know why, but one look at Tatyana's face and Bella knows she isn't going to find out. She can read her expression well enough to know that.

"Thank you for telling me," she continues, deciding she won't push the issue. "I'm truly touched that you shared it with me. I feel kinda special now."

"You are special." 

Bella isn't sure that she agrees, but it's nice to hear. "You make me feel special." she says, which is true. Tatyana does make her feel special, more so when she kisses her as she does right now, like the world is about to end and there’s nobody else more important in the world than her…

Everything about Tatyana is so all-consuming, and she’s left gasping for breath again.

"I would be very disappointed in myself if you left here today feeling ordinary, Bella, because you are so very far from it.” She teases her lips, murmuring, “I hope you know that."

Bella knows that Tatyana thinks it, and it feels nice to be appreciated. 

***

Bella doesn’t see her for days after their argument in the woods. She disappears, like she’s prone to do, and Bella worries if she’ll come back at all.

Like always.

By the time she does return, Bella’s lip resembles that of a doggy chew toy. 

“I thought I told you to stop doing that,” she says, and those are her first words to Bella. They’re standing in the school parking lot at the end of the day. “I’ll return one day to find you’ve bitten it right off.”

She supposes it’s probably too hopeful to assume that this will be their last argument. Bella touches her chewed lip with the pad of her thumb, gentle… but not quite gentle enough. It’s tender.

“I was worried.”

“Clearly.”

More silence- this time filled to the brim with tension that Bella wishes didn’t exist. Why do they have to fight so often? She spies Leah across the lot- she’s watching them, and although Bella can’t make out the expression on her friend’s face, she knows it won’t be one of approval. 

Leah storms off in the opposite direction.

“I’m sorry for pushing you.” 

Bella apologises. She always does, but technically this is her fault. She knows the topic is a sensitive one. The warmth begins to immediately seep from her body as cold hands take her own, but whatever warmth she loses…

She finds it again in those bright eyes in front of her.

Bella wonders then about who her love might have visited in her absence- who is responsible for the extra shine Bella sees there.

“I’m sorry, too.”

That’s it- she says no more, doesn’t elaborate on whether she’s sorry about what she said, or what she didn’t say. She doesn’t explain where she’s been. Nothing. Instead, they kiss and Bella forgives her.

She should be used to the way her love stings by now. After all…

Roses have thorns.

***

It’s light when Bella wakes in the morning. With a heaviness that remains in her heart from her dreams, she isn’t in a hurry to end this. Laying in Tatyana’s arms…

This is how it should have felt with her.

Rose.

And oh, it hurts to think her name even now, but it’s a refreshing sort of pain that Bella welcomes because it means that maybe she’s finally ready to move forward. Surely that’s what it means, right? It can’t possibly be a coincidence.

Lips touch the side of her head. “You’re awake.” Tatyana murmurs, sounding pleased. “And you’re thinking again. I can tell.”

Bella stifles a yawn. “Brains tend to do that,” she mumbles, “never turning off, always running in the background.” Reminding me of shit at inopportune times. “If I could learn how to shut it off more, maybe I’d be able to get more sleep than I do.”

Although Bella did technically sleep. It just wasn’t particularly restful. 

That’s where the alcohol usually helps.

Tatyana hums. “Laying on my tit appears to be useful in aiding your sleep, or was the snoring and drooling just for show?”

.

.

.

.

“... did I actually?” Bella dares to ask, hoping beyond all hope that Tatyana is only teasing and she didn’t actually drool on the poor woman in her sleep. She can already feel the heat in her cheeks.

It’s too early for this.

“You did-”

“ Fuck.”

“-but it was very cute.”

Drooling is neither cute nor attractive, and Bella is so mortified by the knowledge that she pulls the blanket up over her head. “This is worse than the licking comment from earlier,” she groans, hoping it will drown out Tatyana’s giggles. “How haven’t you just kicked me out already?”

“Oh hush,” she says, “what’s life without a little saliva smeared on your tits?”

It’s getting really hot beneath the blankets now. “Stooooooop…”

“Besides, it’s hardly the worse thing I’ve had sme-”

“Don’t!” Bella surfaces like her arse is on fire, sitting up and throwing the blankets aside with a woosh. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence! I do not need to think about that, or picture it, or have it add to my already vivid nightmares, thank you!” 

When she faces Tatyana, she’s met with her devilish smirk. “Too far?” she teases.

She glowers. “Way too far.”

“I’m trying to make you feel better about the drooling.”

“Liar,” she says. “You’re trying to mortify me to death with the sordid details of your sex life.”

“Sordid,” Tatyana snorts, still grinning. “Okay, okay, I won’t try to make you feel better.”

“Thank god,” Bella mutters, trying hard not to join Tatyana in her laughter. The absurdity of the entire conversation isn't lost on her. “You’re fucking terrible at it."

Although not so terrible as she might pretend, as the moment draws Bella closer and closer to the woman, both physically and…

Don’t think it, her brain warns her. Thinking it will take it that one step closer to a place she doesn’t want to return to. But still, even she can appreciate how unique it is that she’s found someone who she can share these moments of silliness with. 

"You're staring again." When Tatyana smiles, Bella spies dimples. "I suppose I should be glad that you're remembering to breathe still though."

She meets her eye for a brief moment and returns her smile. "Small miracles." she says, before returning to her hard labouring work of studying the woman whose bed she shares…

Whose teasing she laughs with.

The soft cleft in her chin is in stark contrast to the strength of her jaw, Bella notices- somewhat masculine and yet so very much not. Tatyana is about as womanly as any could be, and there's no mistaking any part of her as masculine whatsoever, so really, Bella can’t be surprised that she’s descended from a goddess of beauty.

It's only when ice encases her wrist that she realises she's reached out to touch the object of her fascination.

Caught, she catches Tatyana's eye. "You have a handsome chin."

"Do I now?" She sounds thoroughly amused. "Can't say that's one I've heard often," Her grip on Bella's wrist is loose, her touch gentle as she allows Bella's thumb to explore the surface of her skin. She grins. "Or ever actually, if I recall."

"And I'm sure that you do," she begins to say, “because your memory is as perfect as your face, right?” 

She smirks. "Naturally."

God, why the sheer size of Tatyana’s ego is so attractive to Bella, she doesn’t know, but it is. It’s ruining Bella, but instead of helping the woman’s ego swell to even more epic proportions by admitting it, she makes to roll out of bed-

She doesn’t get far. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tatyana asks, snatching her wrist and rolling them. Trapped beneath her weight, Bella’s heart rate spikes at the predatory way the immortal’s lip curls. “I’m not finished with you.”

Bella’s mouth suddenly goes dry. “I need some water.” Not totally untrue. She could use a drink now that she’s thinking about it. “I also have to pee.”

Although not quite as badly as she wants to quench her thirst now that she’s aware of it. Tatyana lets her go and rolls half to the side, just far enough that she’s no longer holding her down.

“Hurry back, please,” she purrs, “We have three hours left together, and I intend to make good use of that time.”

Bella is not going to argue. Not bothering with clothes, she rushes to the bathroom- the fresh air and cold tiles stealing whatever warmth she’d retained from being in bed. As she does her business, she eyes her phone where she left it face down the night before.

She decides she isn’t going to look at it. Leah can wait.

When she returns, minus a quick stop in the living room to guzzle a glass of water, she notes the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the air. She peaks around the threshold of the bedroom and her mouth begins to water almost immediately- partly because Tatyana looks utterly delicious in the messy sheets, but mostly because there’s a silver tray sitting at the foot of the bed filled with crispy strips of bacon, toasted sourdough, sausage, and eggs.

On its own tray Bella spies what she assumes is the reason behind the lovely aroma throughout the apartment, only she’s never seen anything like it before. It reminds Bella of a chemistry set, with its curved glass vial on one side and a silver chamber on the other, connected by a thin silver pipe…

Beside that is creamer, sugar and a matching glass coffee cup. 

How fancy, like the Queen of fucking England.

Or maybe not, since she’s dead.

Bella tries hard not to think about the nasty taste that thinking King of England leaves in her mouth instead.

“What are you thinking about?” Tatyana asks her from where she lounges back against the headboard. 

“Prince Charles.”

He will forever be ‘Prince’ in Bella’s mind. 

“Explains the look on your face.” Tatyana says, laughing. “I was worried you were turning your nose up at your breakfast!”

Bella shakes her head so quickly she worries about whiplash. “Never! This looks and smells amazing.” She’s already moving toward it. “I need to get some of that caffeine into me, but I’m not…” She blushes and pauses as she reaches out to it. “I’ll be honest, I have no idea how to use this. What the fuck even is it?”

It looks equal parts old and right off the showroom floor.

Tatyana waves her hand. “It’s some 18th century contraption made by the Austrians to brew coffee beans from an elephant’s arse,” she says, flippantly. “Allow me, please.”

Bella watches as Tatyana leans over and expertly pours Bella a cup, but Bella is a little too preoccupied trying to process what Tatyana has just told her. “I’m sorry, it comes from where?” she asks, because surely she’s mistaken. She’s obviously heard incorrectly.

“Sugar?” Tatyana asks, to which Bella gives a hesitant nod. “This is Black Ivory,” she explains. “One of the rarest and, so we’re told, best coffees in the world. Would you like some creamer?”

She nods again, watching the cup as though the steaming liquid is about to slosh out of the mug and stab her in the throat. “And it comes from… an elephant's…” 

She can’t really bring herself to say it as she accepts the cup of coffee.

“From the dung of an elephant, yes.” Tatyana’s confirms, offering her a smirk. “Don’t knock it until you try it. I promise you it’s had nothing but raving reviews.”

“But it comes from the arse of an elephant.”

“In Northern Thailand.”

Bella looks up from her poop coffee. “Why does it matter what country it comes from?”

“Because the import fees are astronomical,” she informs her. “It adds to the experience.”

Bella eyes the liquid once more, shuddering to think of how much the coffee itself must then cost. She brings it to her mouth, blows gently across the surface of the steaming coffee, draws on every ounce of willpower she possesses, and…

She takes her first sip.

“Holy shit,” she says, swallowing and smacking her lips together. The rich flavour sticks to her tongue. “This is… actually really good. Oh my god.”

Who would have thought.

Tatyana throws her head back in laughter. “I’m very glad you like it,” she says, “The surprise on your face makes me wish I could appreciate its flavour the same way.”

“I wish you could as well. Poop coffee is the bomb.” 

She snorts. “Poop coffee.”

Bella shrugs- that’s exactly what it is. No pretending that the coffee isn’t processed inside the stomach of an elephant and then shat out to be picked through by hand when it is. As Tatyana moves the coffee tray to the floor to avoid accidents, Bella hurries to get back under the blanket. She’s careful not to spill the hot drink on herself as she gets comfortable, but the second she is, she’s got her focus set on that tray of tasty goods. She slides the tray over and begins to make herself an egg and bacon sandwich. There’s even a small bowl of sweet tomato chutney- which Bella discovers with a dip of her finger. 

“ Ooohhhh, this is gonna be so good.” she moans, slapping another piece of sourdough on top. “I didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

Shame about the eggs being scrambled though. She prefers them sunny side up. But they taste amazing, so she doesn’t even dream of complaining about it, and how often does she get to enjoy the pleasures of someone cooking for her anyway?

This time when she finishes eating, she refrains from being a savage and licking the bacon grease off the plate, no matter how tempting.

"You can do it, you know. I know you want to."

"What?" Bella asks, pushing the tray aside so that she can stretch her legs back out.

"Lick the plate."

She points a finger at her. "Stop that."

Bella will not be cajoled into. She will act like a respectable human being for a few more hours.

The reminder to herself that checkout looms closer is a sure way to sober her playful mood though, because she isn't ready for this to be over yet.

She doesn’t want to say goodbye.

“Any of that delicious poop coffee left by chance?” She turns her focus onto something else, which just so happens to be her now empty cup. She inspects it with a pout. “It was really nice.”

Tatyana reaches for her cup, and Bella lets her take it. “You promised me a good ravishing after your cup of coffee, if you recall,” she says, “but I suppose I can make some concessions and allow you two cups instead.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Bella’s nose twitches as Tatyana leans over to pour her another cup and the smell of fresh coffee grows stronger. “How do you make that look so graceful?”

If it were Bella attempting such a manoeuvre, she’d look and feel like a twisted tree branch. She’d also be liable to spill the hot coffee all over the floor and herself. 

“Because I am graceful.” She takes the fresh cup of coffee when Tatyana offers it to her. “It’s all part of my charm, darling.”

Bella thanks her and takes a sip- just barely refraining from telling Tatyana how well her charm is working. After all, Bella doesn’t usually become smitten with women so easily. She knows better than to voice whatever is going on inside her head though- not yet, not now. She barely understands most of what’s going on inside her head, for Christ's sake. How is she expected to explain it to the woman who’s the cause of everything Bella is feeling?

The answer is simple; she isn’t.

No. 

She won’t. She reminds herself instead to focus on the here- the now, and how utterly gorgeous this woman laying in bed beside her is. She tells herself not to think about how perfect she is, but rather how perfect her tits are, and how good they feel in the palms of Bella’s hands. And yeah, she might be objectifying her and maybe that isn’t okay, but it’s all Bella can think to do right now.

Last night she let herself think about things she shouldn’t have, but that was different. Last night she was lost in a whirlwind of passion with no control of her thoughts or her own desires, but this morning her head is clearer.

Despite the lingering tide of emotions that threaten to capsize her, Bella is thinking way more clearly. 

“What time is it?” she asks, flinching at the hot coffee accidentally burns the roof of her mouth. She drank too much too quickly. 

“Does it matter?”

She swallows, lowering the cup to her lap. “No.” 

She supposes it doesn’t- or rather that it isn’t meant to matter. She can hardly tell Tatyana why it matters so much to her though, can she? This is just a job for Tatyana, and Bella is just another revolving face through her door. 

She lets the silence sit between them, suddenly unsure whether she wants to break it or not, but Tatyana makes the decision for her.

“Are you finished?” she asks, and nods to the cup Bella holds in her hands. She hasn’t taken another sip since her last. “Because if you are, I know what I’d much rather be doing than watching you nurse it.”

There’s still at least three quarters of a cup left, but Bella’s very good at souring her own mood with her thoughts, so she nods. She’s finished. She doesn’t think she can stomach another mouthful. 

Tatyana reaches for the cup and takes it gently from Bella’s grasp, and quickly it disappears from view somewhere behind her. “Bella,” she gently teases, "usually the thought of sex with me gets a better reaction than this. What's going on?"

Where does Bella begin?

"It does matter." 

There. 

She says enough but not too much. 

Time matters, words matter, meaning matters. In some way or another, all of this does matter to Bella- as does the way Tatyana touches her face after she’s said the words. Maybe that means even more to her right now, but how can Bella look her in the eye after that? How can she just sit here and pretend that she's not drowning? Tatyana is holding her down, and forever, Bella would let her- beg her to never let her surface.

She wants her touch, always. 

"It matters."

Words don't really do it justice. 

"You're right," Tatyana says softly, dragging her thumb beneath Bella’s bottom lip. "It does matter." Bella doesn't realise she's chewing on it until right at that moment, and she releases it at Tatyana's insistence, but the damage is already done. She feels the sting of the fresh air moments before blood wells to the surface. Tatyana’s eyes drop to her lip momentarily. "It matters, Bella, and I'm sorry that I said otherwise."

She feels her touch right down to her toes- a pleasant tingle that is both too much and too little, but also not enough…

Why doesn’t Tatyana say why it matters? Why doesn’t Bella?

She searches her face for some sort of sign, even the slightest hint that maybe Bella isn’t alone in this, but it seems to her that Tatyana’s had many lifetimes to perfect her poker face. Her expression gives nothing away- Bella can’t see what she’s so desperately hoping to find.

Stupid.

Of course, she can’t. She can’t find it because it isn’t there. But then… why would Tatyana say that? Bella looks closer, but still…

Nothing.

Bella feels no goosebumps rise on Tatyana’s flesh as she runs her hand up her arm, sees no physical reaction bar the darkening of her blood red eyes. She’s good at this.

Too good.

Tatyana’s stare has fallen to her lip again, and that drop of blood Bella feels there. “May I?” she breathes, and of course she has little hope of saying no. Bella is a little disappointed she hasn’t bitten her yet, if she’s being totally honest with herself.

“Please.”

Tatyana doesn’t bother with pretences- she flicks her tongue out and runs it purposefully along the tear Bella has made with her teeth. Her eyes almost immediately flutter shut. “Oh,” she moans, and the sound of it- knowing that it’s because of her…

It shoots straight between Bella’s legs.

It never felt this intimate with Rose. 

“Do you mean it?” she dares to ask. She needs to know. For a moment, she holds her breath. “It does matter, right?”

She can’t be imagining this. It has to mean something.

Anything.

And when Tatyana’s eyes open again, for the briefest second she sees it- although she has no idea what ‘it’ is. Her own widen and she swears that what she sees is a reflection of her own turmoil- her fear, love, hope, heartbreak… anger.

She sees it all. And then as quickly as it comes, it’s gone again.

“It matters,” Tatyana repeats her words from earlier in their conversation, inclining her head. “ You matter, Bella. We, this, us…” she says, breathing the words against her lips, “It matters.”

It…

Bella’s not sure she believes what her own ears are hearing. As she surges forward to capture her lips, desperate to make this real…

She can taste the truth on her tongue.

It matters.

We matter.