The morning was still young when Vera got out of bed.
Four days had passed since she’d been found, broken, outside of the speaker’s apartment, and for most of those those days she’d slept, but for some she’d comforted, healed and was healed in return.
It was an agonizing movement, certainly, but it was definitely worth the look on the other girl’s face when Vera appeared, ashen-faced but triumphant, in the doorway of the bedroom, casting about as if looking for something.
She was at Vera’s side instantly, a hand already reaching out to snake around her waist and help hold her up, but a hand to her shoulder stopped her long enough to see the determination in the shorter girl’s eyes, the urge, the need to see this through, to get to where she wanted to go or collapse in trying.
Worry and happiness warred in her features as Vera took step after shaky step over to the table set in the middle of the room, eyes fixed on something set upon it.
Finally, she reached her destination, and leant on the table, her palm flat against the wood and letting her down slowly, slowly, to her knees, so she could reach what she wanted. Her shoulders moved very slightly as something happened, but the blonde couldn’t see what. She moved to the side to try to see but as she did, the shorter girl stood up and turned, agonizingly but bursting with accomplishment.
In her hands was a piece of paper, torn from the pad that sat on the table, and on it was written four words, in an almost childlike scrawl, written by a hand that was still almost unable to move:
My name is Vera.
The other girl gasped, an impossibly wide smile on her face that she unsuccessfully tried to suppress as she approached her, hands at her sides, stopping just in front of her, the joy in her voice almost overpowering it as she spoke.
“It’s nice to meet you, Vera. I’m Harper.”
A small smile broke out on the shorter girl’s face as well and they met each other in an embrace, Harper completely enveloping the smaller girl in her arms as Vera reciprocated, her arms around the taller’s waist, holding her close.
It was dark. The moon was rising full outside the window of her bedroom and Vera appreciated it, as she had learned to appreciate the smaller things over the past weeks she’d been here.
A cup sat on the table beside the bed, and Vera glanced at it, not wanting to down its contents but knowing that she needed to if she wanted to get anything done anytime soon.
The medicine burned the back of her throat as it went down, but Harper had told her it’d help with the pain in both her arm and her throat, so she figured it wouldn’t hurt to try it.
She closed her eyes, but as usual, she couldn’t sleep. Harper always asked her why she was so tired in the mornings, and holding up the “I’m not a morning person” card was wearing thin. But she couldn’t just tell her that everything hadn’t faded away like she’d said it had, couldn’t tell her that he was still haunting her, that the shadows were growing bolder, that her past, it wanted her back.
Eventually, darkness consumed her.
She was back on the rooftops, back on the streets, back in the houses, where’d she’d put men to sleep.
And by sleep, she had killed them.
And they wanted revenge.
They were here every night, waiting for her, waiting with their cold, dead hands and their accusing faces, rigor mortis freezing them in the grimaces of death as they reached for her, reached for her hands, her shoulders, anywhere, anywhere she’d touched her, ripping it off, tearing the skin and taking her touch with them, stripping away all that had become important to her and making it of them, whispering, whispering, always whispering: Unworthy. Undeserving. You’re not worthy of her. She deserves better than you.
You’re nothing.
Another touch on the shoulder, warmer, and Vera jerked awake, her fingers already clasped around the wrist that held the hand that touched her, already twisting, already pinning the other person to the bed before her mind had a chance to catch up and then she saw her face, saw Harper’s face, saw the fear back, saw it in her eyes, saw it there because of her, again, and she broke, tears leaking out and her head against Harper’s chest and she was thinking as hard as she could I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, take me back, don’t leave me, I need you.
I love you.
It was almost inaudible, a barest whisper, and it was pure agony to say, but none of that mattered after the look on Harper’s face, staring up at her, eyes wide and purple and too bright, too happy after what’d just happened, too joyous for a prisoner, and another whisper broke the silence.
“You spoke.”
Vera nodded, and then she was crushed, arms around her back and a hand between her shoulder blades, holding her close, pulling her in and sharing warmth with her, and then she could breath again, there was a foot of space between them, then less, and less, until her mouth was level with Harper’s ear and the medicine she’d been taking was finally paying off but she figured she only had a couple words left and so she’d better made them count so she whispered two more words, only two, but the only two that were needed:
Kiss me.
Silence.
Vera pulled back to look down, worried that she’d gone too far, that she wasn’t doing this right, that she was going too fast or not fast enough or that she was reading something wrong, but then she looked down and saw nothing but welcome in those eyes, those eyes that had helped her, brought her so far and pieced her at least a little bit back together from the broken person she’d been and so she leaned back down until she was centimeters away, breath on her cheeks and her nose.
And then they were closer, closer, together and Harper’s lips were so soft and her hands were in Vera’s hair and Vera was pulling her up, hungry for more, hungry for her, kissing like she was trying to make Harper a part of her every time their lips touched and that fire burned across that contact, and she responded and they were both so terrible at this, making a mess of each other but they were happy, so happy, so one that they couldn’t care less if there was a bit of saliva on their face, all they cared about was the feel of the other’s lips on their own and Harper’s hand in the small of her back and her other hand in her hair and hew own hands cupping Harper’s face, drawing her closer, bringing her in, then there were clothes on the ground and all of a sudden it was hotter in the room and they were close, so close, and the sun in Harper’s chest shed some of its mass into Vera’s and they burned together.
Finally Vera slumped down, threading her arms around Harper’s waist and clinging to her, her nose against her neck, her breath making her giggle and twitch and cocking her head in response, moving closer, until her lips were against Harper’s neck and then she was writhing, hand flapping at the air as Vera kissed up and down until she couldn’t hold it in anymore and she laughed too, a silent laugh that shook her slight shoulders and collapsed her against the girl beneath her, their noses pressed together, staring into each other’s eyes, looking for something and finding it, sharing one last kiss before Vera couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, finally sliding gently into sleep rather than being claimed with it, sliding into sleep with Harper’s hand on her back moving slowly, rhythmically, lovingly.
She didn’t dream.
A/N: eheheheh
hehe
HEHE
Sneak peek: And then she was gone.
Aaand that's all you get! Enjoy the suspense, I'll see you next week~
-V
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