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At first, Shadowheart had been elated when she moved into her new apartment. It was the first ounce of freedom she’d ever had. She’d spent most of her childhood under the care of her authoritarian adopted mother, Viconia. Prior to her adoption, she’d been bounced around from foster home to foster home.
Living with Viconia had not been an easy experience. The woman was deeply religious, and Shadowheart’s every move or behavior was held under great scrutiny. The young woman had become adept at recognizing her mother’s very footsteps. Her youth was spent looking over her shoulder, returning early from any sort of social gathering, and certainly free of any dating life whatsoever. Everything she did was a sin in Viconia’s eyes.
Blessedly, though, Viconia had thrown her out the moment she’d turned eighteen. Shadowheart had been preparing for the day for years – she’d scraped together just enough funds to allocate her own living space. She packed a bag the night before her eighteenth birthday, and walked out the door the moment she awoke the next day. Viconia had told her never to come back. And so she hadn’t.
The first few years were hard, but not as hard as living with her mother had been. Shadowheart had no time or money for college, so she managed by working two jobs and earning herself a lot of overtime. At twenty-three, she considered herself to be doing perfectly okay. Her current apartment was not entirely filled with rats, and she didn’t have to exterminate any bed bugs residing within her mattress.
But she still had to work both her jobs, now more than ever. She came home later and later each night, falling into an exhausted but restless sleep. Then she awoke the next day and started the entire process over again. It grew more and more difficult each time.
She was intent on not giving up. She had made it this far; she was determined to stay the course.
Her most distracting problem, though, was her next-door neighbor.
Minthara Baenre was somewhere in her early to mid-thirties and quite easy on the eyes. She had reddish-purple irises and mid-length white hair, both of which caused her to turn heads with men and woman alike. She held herself with a confident air, long legs striding effortlessly down their shared hallway each day. Unlike Shadowheart, she only needed to work one job – a well-paying one, no doubt – to survive. She never had to skip meals because she couldn’t afford groceries. And she certainly never seemed to be tired.
Shadowheart wanted her so badly it hurt.
She suspected that was part of the rationale behind Viconia’s abandonment of her. Though she’d never spoken the words, she sensed that her mother knew there was something different about her. Something sinful, as Viconia was wont to describe.
Shadowheart knew it wasn’t a sin. She knew what love was, and what it meant to have someone who loved you back. Viconia had never loved her. Maybe no one ever had at all.
Shadowheart knew better than to let those thoughts rule over her mind. She’d saved what little cash she possessed to have a DNA test done. She wanted to find her biological parents, if they were out there and if they wanted to meet her. She prayed that they did. She wanted to know what lives they had had, if they gave her up because they truly did not care about her or if something else forced their hands.
She nearly had the money. But it was so hard not to dip into her starving bank account when she needed food or toiletries. She had no credit, and so she knew better than to try and apply for a credit card.
And so she skipped meals. Put her pennies into the bank when she was able to. Saved and scrimped and tossed and turned, night after day after night once more.
It was growing old. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep herself together. She was terribly afraid of having a mental breakdown in the middle of working.
The one thing keeping her motivated was Minthara’s attractive face haunting her doorstep each morning. “Hello, Shadowheart,” she would greet politely as they passed one another. She and Shadowheart went to work around the same time each day, Shadowheart going to her bus stop while Minthara went out to her vehicle. Once or twice, she’d even offered to give the younger woman a ride. Shadowheart refused each time – she pointed out that she’d never be able to pay the other woman back. When Minthara tried to protest, Shadowheart would breeze past her, cheeks burning with shame.
She held Minthara’s opinion of her in high regard. It would not do if the other woman thought of her as a charity case.
After one particularly rough night spent rolling over and over in bed, Shadowheart waved at Minthara listlessly as she trundled down the stairs.
“Good morning to you, too, sleepyhead,” Minthara had teased lightly. Something about the younger woman’s posture made her reach out and lightly touch her on the shoulder.
“Everything alright?” she inquired; head titled to the side. Her eyes were almost maroon in color, and Shadowheart was mesmerized by them. She stared into them helplessly, not answering Minthara’s question.
“Oh!” She broke free of her longing gaze, taking an uneasy step away from the older woman. “I’m fine, thank you. Only tired.” She stormed out onto the sidewalk hurriedly, hoping Minthara had not seen her flushed cheeks.
When she turned around to brave a glance Minthara’s way, she saw the other woman just watching her impassively, head still cocked in curiosity.
Shadowheart could have sworn that Minthara seemed concerned.
She returned fourteen hours later to find the older woman waiting for her outside her door. She nodded once in a courteous greeting before fumbling around in her purse, trying to locate her keys. She flinched when she felt a cool hand against her forehead.
“We did not get the chance to finish our earlier conversation,” said Minthara. Her smoky voice sent a thrill of desire through Shadowheart’s whole being. “Are you quite sure you are well? You seem a little feverish.”
“I’m good!” Shadowheart at last located her keys. She reeled away from the other woman, shoving her key into the lock without glancing down at it. She bumped the door open roughly with her shoulder, and a loose nail dug into her skin unpleasantly. “Thank you though. Just tired, like I said before. And a little stressed out.”
Minthara wasn’t letting her off the hook. “Well,” she declared. “If you are ever in need of someone to talk to, my door is always open.”
“Thanks!” was Shadowheart’s only reply. Guilt was already seeping into her skin as she slammed the door in Minthara’s face.
Shadowheart slid to the floor with her back to the wall. She pressed her palms to her eyes – they felt leaden and thick with her need for sleep. In that moment, she hated herself. She felt so ashamed of shutting the door like that. Minthara was perhaps the closest thing to a friend she had in the entire world. She did not want the older woman to think less of her.
She stood back up on legs almost too weary to carry her. She opened her door again and peeked her head out into the hallway, wanting to apologize.
Minthara was already gone.
Now you’ve done it, Shadowheart thought viciously. You just lost the only little bit of social interaction you have on a daily basis.
Feeling lower than ever, Shadowheart retreated back inside her apartment.
She got a raise.
Shadowheart had gotten a raise at her job! And now she could afford the DNA test! And a week’s worth of groceries!
It was the happiest she’d ever been. She danced inside her apartment complex later that night, almost running Minthara over in the process.
“Hold it!” the older woman commented. She grinned as she gripped Shadowheart’s arm gently. “What are you so excited about?”
“I got a raise!” Shadowheart wanted to shout it from the rooftops. “I got a raise! I’m going to go food shopping tomorrow and buy two entire boxes of Oreos!”
Her cheeks burned with the declaration – no doubt Minthara now viewed her as one would a child. She looked down at the floor, too embarrassed to glance upward.
Minthara’s chuckle was a seductive growl. “Oreos, huh?” she mused. “Sounds delicious. Want some company tomorrow night? I can bring us both a glass of milk.”
“Oh, no!” Shadowheart shuffled back, shaking her head. Her face still blazed; she hoped the older woman standing before her could not see it. “I’m just being silly. Just really excited over it, that’s all. Thank you though.”
“Of course,” Minthara seemed disappointed. Her lips dropped downwards; her eyebrows creased. “If you change your mind, I am only a heartbeat away.”
“Good night!” Shadowheart rushed through her apartment door, waving goodbye hurriedly. She did not slam her door this time. Instead, she flapped her wrist like a fool and slid the lock into place.
Why can’t you be normal? She seethed. Why are you always such a fuck up?
She was experiencing more issues than just embarrassment, however. Her skin tingled where Minthara had grabbed her arm. She could almost imagine the press of her fingertips against her blouse. Minthara’s hand was warm and soft.
Just picture what those long fingers of hers could do to-
Shadowheart shut that thought down before it could grow bigger. She huffed a sigh and retreated to her bathroom. Her shower was most useful when it came to muffling the sounds of her pleasuring herself.
After buying groceries the next day, Shadowheart sent in the request for her DNA to be processed. The website promised it would be a few weeks until she got the results. She was just going to have to play the waiting game.
Boredom now became an active issue. Shadowheart had no hobbies besides reading, and her personal “library” was small and filled mostly with theology-based subjects. She had a few trashy romance novels buried within her stash, but she lacked the funds to secure more for herself. She wanted to learn about the world around her, but escapist fantasies also suited her just fine.
With a little thrill at the knowledge that her mother could no longer stop her, Shadowheart saved up enough money for her first erotic novel between two women. A pang of guilt throbbed within her only briefly. Otherwise, she was delighted with the purchase. She went to bed with the anticipation of a child approaching Christmas day.
Should have known it was going to go tits up, she thought.
Her package was late. Fine, that was to be expected. She’d bought the book over the weekend; most likely it would not arrive until late the next week.
But now it had been a full week and a half, and she was starting to get anxious. She’d checked the shipping label four times in as many days, terrified that she’d mistakenly listed her old address instead of her current one. It would be just her luck to have Viconia end up with a love story about two women giving into their carnal desires for each other.
The label was correct. The book store promised it had been delivered to her apartment. So where the hell is it?
Her complex had a series of locked cubbies that held each resident’s mail, not unlike a post office box. Shadowheart checked hers every day. Nothing.
She was about to ask for a refund when there came a knock at her door.
She jumped, startled – no one ever knocked. She had no friends, and the landlord met her in the hallway when he wanted money.
Hands trembling, Shadowheart opened her door to find Minthara’s calm and friendly face peering down at her.
“Hello, gorgeous,” said the older woman. “I do believe I have ended up with your novel by mistake. My apologies – I had opened the package without looking at the label first.”
FUCK. Shadowheart’s mind raced for a good enough response. Minthara had seen the book she’d bought. The book about lesbians. The book about lesbians having sex with each other!
She knew her blush must be spreading down her neck and over her sternum at that point. Minthara just watched her steadily, eyes betraying none of her thoughts. “Would you like your book?” she asked after a moment of silence.
“God,” Shadowheart said. “I am so sorry. I hope you don’t think less of me for reading something like this.”
Minthara scoffed. “Hardly,” she replied. “That one is a classic. It’s got to be one of my favorites.”
Shadowheart blinked up at her. “What?” she began. “You’ve read this before?”
Minthara’s grin spread across her face. “I love romance novels,” she responded. “I’ve adored reading ever since I was a little girl, and my penchant for a good love story has only worsened with age.”
Shadowheart found herself giggling. “You aren’t that old,” she shot back. “Only, what, forty-two? Forty-three?”
“Thirty-one, if you please,” Minthara replied with a smirk. “Want to have the vet out to check my teeth?”
The comment made Shadowheart laugh in earnest. “I think I believe you,” she said between chuckles. “It’s good to know that I have someone I can share my interest in dime store drivel with. Thank you for bringing it to me.”
She thought about closing the door on Minthara the way she had always done. Before she could reach for her doorknob, though, Minthara pushed it open gently. “Want to join me for dinner?” she offered. “Perhaps we could read together…?”
Shadowheart knew she was still blushing. She sensed that something big was happening between them, something she was about to lose control over completely. She weighed her options: either do as she always had, and shut herself off from Minthara’s lovely face. Or, join her at her table for a meal and some company.
Her stomach gurgled. “I shall take that as a yes,” Minthara’s smile did not falter. “Come. It won’t take long for the food to be ready. You can read aloud to me while I cook it.”
She offered her hand out to the younger woman. Hopefulness reflected in her gaze. Shadowheart realized that Minthara seemed anxious, something she didn’t think the older woman was capable of. Is she afraid that I’ll reject her again?
She took Minthara’s hand and squeezed it. “Sounds like a good idea,” she replied.
Minthara’s grin was victorious. “I was hoping you’d agree.”
“Grilled cheese sandwiches?” Shadowheart found herself laughing at the sight of the bread bag and slices of cheddar decorating the countertop.
Minthara pretended to look hurt. “I am a dedicated bachelor,” she retorted. “It is sometimes very difficult for me to warrant making a huge meal for only one person. And besides, these are a comfort food for me.”
Shadowheart nodded. “Me, too,” she answered. “I make them all the time.” When I’m able to afford bread, she mused darkly.
“Go have a seat in the living room,” suggested Minthara. “This will only take a few minutes. There’s juice in the fridge if you would like, or I can fix you a cup of tea.”
“What, no wine?” Shadowheart joked. She plucked a glass from where a stack of them rested side-by-side by the dish rack.
“I didn’t want you to think I was trying to seduce you,” Minthara replied. She had finished spreading butter on the bread slices and was currently shredding cheese. “I adore you, Shadowheart. I want you to know I would never be presumptuous about your feelings for me.”
Shadowheart froze halfway through the process of putting the bottle of cranberry juice back into the refrigerator. “What are you talking about?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. She was distantly aware of the hysterical edge to her tone.
Minthara turned on the stove. It was gas, and Shadowheart heard the click of the burner as it caught flame. “I’ve had a bit of crush on you, I admit.” Minthara would not look up from her position at the stovetop. “I didn’t want to be too forward. God, I wasn’t even sure if you actually liked women at all. Not until I saw the book.”
She continued, carefully flipping the sandwiches onto their uncooked sides. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way. If you do not wish to talk to me again after this, I will not hold it against you. But please,” Minthara at last looked at the younger woman. “Please at least just let me send you home with the food. You’re so thin. Are you eating enough? You are always so damned tired.”
Shadowheart said nothing as she watched Minthara cook and listened to her speak. The aroma of toasting bread wafted across the room to where Shadowheart sat, and her stomach growled again. After mulling over her words, she replied, “I wanted you terribly from the moment I laid eyes on you. You are irresistible. And charming. You’re so self-assured, and you are always so kind to me. Even when I was too nervous to speak to you.”
Minthara breathed a sigh of relief. “Your first night here,” she began. “I saw you leaning over a moving box in the corridor. You were wearing a lilac dress that was a tad too short for your legs, and I nearly fell down the stairs imagining what you would look like when I took you from behind. At first, I thought that perhaps I just wanted to sleep with you. Over time, however, an affection for you grew in my heart that I fear I will never escape from.”
Both women locked eyes for a long moment, soft smiles adorning their faces as they gazed at one another. “Fuck!” Minthara gasped suddenly, whipping around to rescue their dinner before it burned. “Almost forgot about the stove!”
Shadowheart’s peals of laughter met Minthara’s ears. Her voice was musical; the older woman was in love with the sound. “I don’t recall asking for my sandwich to be well done,” Shadowheart teased.
Minthara sent her an amused look from across the other side of the room. “Sorry about that,” she replied. “Here, they should be cooked just about right.”
And they were. Shadowheart dove into the food, consuming her sandwich in a handful of bites. “Hungry?” Minthara asked, but her eyes were not as amused as her face. She was concerned for the younger woman, the need to protect her almost overwhelming. “Want me to make you something else?”
Shadowheart’s mouth was a little burned from where the melted cheese had stuck to the roof of it. “I’m full, but thank you,” she said. “This was lovely. The best meal I’ve had in ages!”
Both women were seated side by side on the couch. Feeling more secure than when she’d first gotten there, Shadowheart had removed her shoes and was curled along one of the decorative cushions. Minthara sat across from her, nibbling on her sandwich as she watched the younger woman eat.
The apartment was technically a loft with a few extra rooms added on. The living room and kitchen were all one big space; the bedroom and bathroom on opposite sides. “Makes getting over to the toilet late a night quite the hassle,” Minthara pointed out. “I’ve almost killed myself half a dozen times purely by running into the coffee table.”
Shadowheart’s shoulder shook with mirth. She’d been holding her glass of juice, and she had to put it back down in a hurry to avoid spilling it. “You poor suffering thing,” she commented sarcastically. “Is that mean old coffee table jumping up and biting you on the ankles?”
“It’s possessed, I swear it.”
Their conversation continued for quite a while after that – they discussed their favorite subject, books, at length. But they also talked about their jobs, their favorite genre of music or film (grunge and horror for them both, though Shadowheart also had a soft spot for Christian rock), and their pasts.
On the subject of her childhood, Shadowheart blurted, “I am trying to find my birth parents. I submitted my DNA for testing not long ago.”
Minthara nodded. “Good,” she answered. “I hope that you will be reunited with them soon enough. You deserve happiness.”
Even though she’d been vulnerable in front of Minthara before, Shadowheart cursed herself when she discovered tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “Sorry,” she murmured. “Didn’t meant to have a breakdown in the middle of dinner like this.”
“Nonsense,” Minthara replied. Without another word, she leaned forward to wipe one tear from the younger woman’s cheek.
She held Shadowheart’s chin for a heartbeat longer, both of them staring at the other’s mouth. Minthara leaned in closer; and Shadowheart obligingly met her halfway.
Minthara still tasted like the butter she’d used to coat the bread. Shadowheart’s breath smelled like cranberries. Their noses bumped as their lips met. Tongues parted mouths which met each other’s teeth. Shadowheart whimpered, and Minthara’s breath caught in her throat.
“Come here.” The demand was quiet, but firm. She tugged at Shadowheart’s waist; the younger woman crawled into her lap. “Look at the mirror.”
In lieu of a television, Minthara instead had a massive mirror hanging on the wall opposite the couch. It encompassed the length of the couch itself, and its black edges matched the leather upholstery exactly.
Minthara held Shadowheart against her, arms wrapped around her as they watched the glass. “What do you see in your reflection?”
Shadowheart shrugged. “Me,” she guessed.
Minthara was clearly unhappy with her response. “More than that,” she replied. “What else?”
Shadowheart looked over at her uncertainly. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “What else is there?”
Unrelenting, Minthara held her more tightly as she spoke again. “I see a beautiful woman,” she said. “Her entire life spread before her like the Elysian fields. You have stitched yourself together with such very small pieces; I am so proud of your accomplishments. I cannot wait to meet the person you will become in a year, in ten years, in twenty. You are perfection, Shadowheart. It is an honor to have become your friend.”
Tears raced down Shadowheart’s face. She could no longer contain her emotions, but she trusted Minthara well enough to let herself fall apart before her. She cried for a while, occasionally trying to hide herself in the older woman’s neck. Minthara would not permit it. “No,” she rumbled. “Look at yourself. Look at us. You are such a lovely thing, inside and out. I know you want to disappear, but I don’t want you to go from me. Stay here. I will keep you safe.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” asked Shadowheart. “I’ve done nothing but shut my door in your face and run away from you.”
“Because,” Minthara sighed. “I am in love with you. If you want to go, I will not try to stop you. But I hope that you will decide to stay.”
They kissed again. Shadowheart cupped Minthara’s face, pressing her lips to the older woman’s cheeks and nose. She reached to stroke one of her ear lobes, and Minthara leaned into her touch. “What now?” Shadowheart asked. “Where to go from here?”
“Bedroom?” Minthara’s tone was begging. Shadowheart’s grin pulled at her lips slowly. “Was hoping you’d say that.”
“Hang tight.” Minthara tugged at Shadowheart’s legs, carefully wrapping them around her midsection and placing both hands on her rear. She lifted the younger woman and carried her effortlessly into the other room, kicking the door closed with a thud.
Shadowheart had been peppering whatever parts of Minthara she could reach with kisses; Minthara responded in kind by lowering her onto the mattress and climbing on top of her. She groaned against Shadowheart’s mouth, desire making her unable to focus on anything but physical pleasure.
“Do you want to go first?” Shadowheart offered. Minthara nodded dazedly; it had been too long since her last orgasm. She tugged her shirt over her head and threw it to the floor; her pants and underclothes following sooner after. Shadowheart; too, removed her own clothing. Now both naked, Shadowheart laid flat on her back and guided Minthara towards her face.
She held the older woman’s thighs in an iron grip, nails clawing at her skin as she tasted her for the first time. “You’re heavenly,” she commented. “So sweet.”
Minthara was keening above her, hips rocking slightly. When she tried to raise herself up, Shadowheart dragged her back down. “Can’t reach,” she pointed out. “Hold still.” Her tongue traced up into Minthara’s waiting pussy. She felt her clench as she lapped at her opening. She nibbled gently on Minthara’s clit, and the older woman gasped loudly. Her orgasm soaked Shadowheart’s chin, and she released Minthara so that she could taste herself.
“Having fun?” She teased the older woman when she saw Minthara’s blissed-out expression. Suddenly, though, Minthara’s face darkened. “You were so shut down these past few weeks,” she said. “You are usually so busy. I was so concerned for you, sweetheart.”
“Don’t make me cry again, please.” The joking mood had left them both. They kissed languidly this time, hands roving slowly over breasts, shoulders, and collarbones as they did so. This was not out of lust – both simply felt the need for comfort, for connection.
“Wait here for a moment,” Minthara told her. “I’ve got a surprise for you. It was a recent purchase. I was saving it up for a special occasion, and this occasion seems as special as any.”
Shadowheart raised her eyebrows but did not say anything. She watched the older woman stand up and go over to her closet. It was large enough that she disappeared inside it entirely. Shadowheart heard the rustle of material and the clinking of metal buckles.
Minthara reemerged from the closet, and Shadowheart’s breathing stopped.
A black leather harness graced Minthara’s hips, a slender but ridged cock standing at attention between her legs. “Like it?” she asked, and Shadowheart nodded libidinously.
Minthara slid between the younger woman’s legs and took one thigh in each hand. “Are you sure?” she offered. “If you don’t want to, or if you’d like to think it through…”
Shadowheart bit the older woman’s chin to shut her up. “Fuck me hard,” she demanded.
“Of course,” Minthara said with a smile. “Only the best for my good girl.”
Before using the strap; though, she reached between them to play with Shadowheart’s clit. “Just getting you ready,” she promised with a peck of the lips to Shadowheart’s collarbone.
Shadowheart’s skin twitched where Minthara’s blunt nails raked a line across her stomach. Her cunt throbbed, her slick dripping onto the bed. “Minthara,” she cried. “I’m close!”
“Go ahead and cum, baby. You know you want to.” Minthara parted her opening and stroked her with a single finger, the digit sliding in and out of her wet heat. Overwrought, Shadowheart came with a muted gasp.
Minthara removed her finger and held it up to Shadowheart’s mouth. “Here,” she offered. “See what you taste like, sweetheart.”
Shadowheart took the digit into her mouth and suckled at it. Minthara watched her ravenously.
“Ready for round two?” she asked, and the younger woman beneath her nodded enthusiastically. With a chuckle, Minthara repositioned herself so that the tip of her strap lined up with Shadowheart’s entrance. Wetness coated the tip, and Minthara used it to stroke against the other woman’s soaking folds.
Shadowheart was making all sorts of incoherent sounds as she did this. When she tried to roll away, the sensation becoming too much, Minthara held one of her hips in place. “Be a good girl, Shadowheart,” she hummed. “Let me take care of you, please. I cannot bear it.”
She pushed in gradually, letting Shadowheart get used to the feeling. Each ridge filled the younger woman’s welcoming cunt, the pressure making her feel as though she could cum again before Minthara even began to move. She staved off her orgasm as best she could, but her wetness still drenched the older woman’s cock.
“So eager,” Minthara commented from above. “So wonderful. Do you like my big cock, darling? Do you want to feel it inside you every night? Feel me fill you right up with it?”
Shadowheart had thrown an arm across her face in a gesture of speechless pleasure. Minthara plucked her arm away from herself and held it above her head. “Remember my rule about hiding, sweetheart,” she said as she started to thrust. “I want to see you fall apart. Just give in. It’s okay, I’m right here to catch you.”
She slammed into the dark-haired woman; Shadowheart called out to her in return. “Minthara!” she begged, though what for she did not know. “Harder. More. Anything.”
“Of course,” Minthara answered happily. “Whatever my baby girl wants.” She picked up the pace. The sensation of the strap dragging its way across Shadowheart’s squeezing walls made her orgasm tumble from her cunt. Words escaped her as she came, her only sounds being the incomprehensible murmurs of herself lost to pleasure.
Minthara could feel the strap brushing her clit occasionally, and she figured if she timed it right that they could both finish together. “Darling,” she cooed as she traced her thumb over Shadowheart’s eyelid. “Look at me. I know you’re getting tired, but you’ve got one more in you. I just know it.”
“No!” Shadowheart was tossing her head back and forth, refusing to open her eyes. “I can’t anymore.” Overstimulation made her begin to cry again, and Minthara had to soothingly kiss away her tears. Despite her protests, Minthara could sense the dark-haired woman was not being serious. If Shadowheart had asked her to well and truly stop, she would. But she showed no signs of wanting to.
“Just one more, baby girl. For me. Then you can rest, alright?” Minthara thrusted faster. Unable to contain herself, she growled and nipped at Shadowheart’s neck. She would long since released her arm, now focused on using her shoulder to ground herself instead. She lifted one of Shadowheart’s legs, which Shadowheart permitted without comment. She wrapped it across herself to give her a better angle.
“Go on,” she encouraged. “I’m right there with you. I am so close, Shadowheart. If you cum like the good girl I know you are, you’ll get to watch me do it, too.”
That seemed to be enough motivation for the other woman. Shadowheart’s eyes flew open, her mouth hanging open as she watched Minthara orgasm. The older woman’s eyes rolled back, the jerking of her hips slowing down as she came. Seconds later, Shadowheart joined her. One final orgasm caused her to let out a strained gasp as she tugged at Minthara’s hair.
“I love you,” she murmured once it was over. “I know you said it earlier. I just want you to know I feel the same way.”
“Oh sweetness,” Minthara replied. “I love you so much. This has been the most wonderful evening I’ve ever had. Don’t go back to your apartment tonight. Just spent the night here. I’ll drive you to work tomorrow. You don’t have to worry about the bus ever again.”
For once, Shadowheart allowed herself to give in. She was boneless as she lay sprawled on the bed. She held her arms open to Minthara, who laid her head on her chest. “Your heart is beating so fast,” she commented quietly. “Good to know you were being honest about loving me back.”
“Of course I was,” Shadowheart chuckled. “Thank you. For taking care of me. I want to stay with you.”
Minthara dozed off to the thump of Shadowheart’s steady heartbeat. Moments after, the younger woman joined her in slumber.
One week after their first time together, Shadowheart packed up her small pile of belongings and moved entirely into Minthara’s apartment. Not long after, she picked up her mail to find her DNA results. They offered a direct link to the social media accounts of a Mr. and Mrs. Arnell Hallowleaf.
One month after that, she and Minthara sat across the table from her biological parents. She introduced Minthara as her girlfriend. Arnell and Emmeline were delighted to meet them both. As it happened, they had conceived Shadowheart during a dark period of time in their lives, one fraught with difficulty. They had given her up for adoption in the hopes that someone would do a better job than they ever could. But they’d left their contact info with the agency, in case their daughter wanted to find them. They promised to never leave her again, and they each took turns hugging the others as they parted.
One year after that, Minthara got down on one knee and presented an ornate engagement ring. It was engraved with a series of tiny spiders – her favorite animal.
“Marry me?” she asked.
“Was there ever any doubt?” Shadowheart replied.
“For a moment there,” Minthara admitted. “When you slammed your door in my face.”
With a laugh, Shadowheart permitted her new fiancée to slide the ring over her finger.