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At times, Manhattan Cafe is reminded of who Agnes Tachyon is under her façade. She's reminded that, under all that eccentricity, there is a girl who is human, despite her attempts to not seem that way. She's reminded that Agnes Tachyon feels things. Feels things like any other person does. Like any other living being.
Everything with life has feelings. Trees. Flowers. Insects. Birds. Grass.
Humans.
She remembers that Tachyon isn't just a heartless scientist. She's always known that she wasn't, but even façades can fool Cafe. If she hadn't started to share a room with the girl, she would’ve let herself continue to be fooled.
A fool she was no longer.
The imminent proof of this was Agnes Tachyon hovering over her.
Cafe had been stripped down. Well, not really. But she felt like it. She felt fully exposed.
She was laying on her couch inside the abandoned science preparation room. Her brooch was loose, hanging precariously over the side of the cushions. Her school shirt was pushed up past her chest, and one of her socks had been lost on the floor. Her hair was splayed under her while falling to the ground like a dark waterfall.
Her head was turned to the side, face burning, as she refused to look at the girl above her. Even though Cafe was technically fully clothed, with only her abdomen uncovered, she felt naked. That was because of how Tachyon was looking down at her. Tachyon had her caged against the couch, and Cafe found that she wasn't upset by it.
The Agnes Tachyon that roams the halls was not in this room at the moment. Instead was the Agnes Tachyon that only Manhattan Cafe knew. The Agnes Tachyon who was in love, or rather, obsessed, with her.
Her red eyes gazed down at Cafe, half-lidded and hazy. They raked over her body, from her head to the waistband of her skirt. Her lips were parted just slightly as she breathed in through her mouth. Tachyon had no skin showing besides her hands, which is shocking, as the girl never likes to show her hands.
Tachyon lifts her wrist before placing her palm flat on Cafe’s tummy. Cafe shivers as she feels the girl’s freezing fingers start to trace over her stomach.
They traced circles on her skin, feeling the softness caused by Cafe’s lotion. Then they started to trace her ribs, admiring the way they jutted out of her chest. Then to her sternum, where Tachyon slid her index finger down it.
Tachyon was now smiling, a smile that Cafe liked to see on her. A smile that was different from her crazed one. A smile that made her look quite pretty.
Cafe glanced out the side of her eye to watch Tachyon’s face morph into analytical adoration. Her smile spread as she traced her finger around Cafe’s nipple, which only widened when Cafe’s breath hitched.
Each touch and prod by Tachyon was made out of sheer affection. Even though she had the cool, clinical touch of a doctor, Cafe knew what Tachyon was truly feeling. There are times when Tachyon examines Cafe for her experiments. Those times, her fingers are purely professional, serious, distant.
This was anything but distant.
Cafe watches as Tachyon takes her other hand and cards her fingers through Cafe’s hair. She then takes a few dark locks in her fist and brings them to her lips, where she places a kiss.
Cafe immediately looked away, ignoring how her face started to burn even hotter.
“...You’re beautiful.” The words were a common thing Cafe heard from Tachyon. Especially in moments like these.
“...” Cafe’s face scrunches up as her cheeks turn a wonderful shade of red. She pointedly looks to the side, ignoring Tachyon’s knowing look.
“No snarky reply?” Tachyon’s voice was teasing, her grin obvious without Cafe even having to look at her.
“...I won’t give you the satisfaction.” Cafe continues to look off towards the wall, frowning. Her lips were twitching though, as she tried to hide how she truly felt.
“Your face is satisfactory enough.” A chuckle. “You’re quite red, Cafe.”
Cafe puffs her cheeks a little, choosing to ignore Tachyon instead of replying. Though, she gasps immediately when she feels Tachyon’s lips on her neck.
Tachyon kisses up the expanse of her skin, sometimes brushing her teeth against her. Then she kisses up her jaw, up to her cheek, and under her eye.
She sits up slightly, her face close to Cafe’s. Cafe still refuses to look at her, so Tachyon lets out a huff of a laugh before pushing her hand under the girl’s cheek. She gently turns Cafe’s face to her, where they meet eyes.
Cafe’s half hearted glare did nothing as Tachyon continued to grin down at her. And it didn't deter the scientist from leaning down and pressing their lips together.
There was no hesitation as Cafe opened her mouth and let Tachyon’s tongue plunge past her teeth. The kiss was slow, sensual. No rush for anything. No unbridled lust. Just pure devotion.
Although it was obvious Tachyon was obsessed with Cafe, Cafe was just as obsessed with Tachyon. She was just better at hiding it. Yet, Tachyon knows. Tachyon knows a lot about her. Although that used to bother her, she now enjoys it.
When they break apart, a thin string of spit connects their lips. It breaks as Tachyon sits up fully before cupping Cafe’s face.
The phrase goes unsaid. It didn't need to be said. It hung in the air as they both looked at each other.
I love you.
Tachyon has said it to Cafe hundreds of times. Usually when she was attention seeking or just happy when Cafe completes an errand for her. But, she finds it hard to say it during these moments. Not because she doesn't love Cafe. But because she didn’t know how to properly confess her love, especially when she truly means it. It would be like serving herself on a silver platter to Cafe—raw, defenseless, feeble.
Tachyon is already on that silver plate in front of Cafe.
Tachyon is fine with that. Cafe is fine with that.
Cafe rarely tells Tachyon that she loves her. Sometimes, Tachyon would softly ask if she did. And Cafe would reply that she does. Cafe finds it hard to express affection. That just makes the times she says that phrase all the more significant.
They love each other.
And though they would sometimes tell each other with words, words were not essential for the two of them.