48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy2DSiliqnJ
As Melinda exited the bathroom she heard noises coming from the kitchen. She looked, and Émilie was in there, making breakfast. She was chopping down some cucumber.
There were already chopped tomatoes and some greens in a bowl. The leftovers from her grilled chicken yesterday were stationed next to the bowl.
Melinda’s stomach agreed with the sigh and let out a long growl. Chicken salad made by Émilie sounded like a fantastic way to start your day. I could get used to this, she caught herself thinking and blushed. Do I like her that much…?
Melinda took a deep breath, tried to cool herself, and walked into the kitchen. "Can I help with anything, Emi?" she asked.
Émilie turned around and Melinda noticed the slight pink on her cheeks, her shy smile and her twinkling eyes.
Why do you have to look so cute, Emi? You’re like the shining star in the darkness. I don’t think Evans - or anyone else - deserved you, ever. I don’t think anyone does. Whoever you choose to spend your life with is an incredibly lucky person and should treasure you their whole life.
I would, she thought, and caught herself. I would! I would treasure you! I just realized it now, but you’re so precious to me… I think… I think I’m in love with you, Émilie Érable, my lovely French friend. I wish I had the courage to come out to you now, right here, and ask you.
She shook her head and tried to stop the creeping blush without much success.
"Uh… I hope you don’t mind that I started this on my own," Émilie said. "I thought a chicken salad would be a good way to start the day. I distinctly remember you saying it’s one of your favorites."
She remembers? I never really have the energy to do a proper salad, but it is definitely my favorite. Out loud she said, "No, no! It’s fine! Yeah, chicken salad is so good, I’m just too lazy to make it myself!" She looked at the table and the chicken. "Shall I chop the chicken, then, seeing as you’ve already gotten done with the rest?"
Émilie nodded and smiled coyly, and her cheeks took a slightly redder tone. "Yeah, that’d be nice…" she said and turned away.
Melinda could see her neck getting red. Aaah! Emi, you’re so cute it’s killing me!
Melinda chopped.
Émilie finished with the greens and mixed a light dressing while Melinda finished with the chicken. Émilie mixed the salad thoroughly and put the bowl on the table. She turned around and saw Melinda looking at her. Her lips were parted, her cheeks almost bright pink. She had such a tender look in her eyes.
Émilie steadied her breathing, turned to wash her hands. She almost felt Melinda looking at her back. She felt her neck getting hot, her cheeks flushing red, and her ears probably were like slices of tomato already. She dried her hands.
Melinda looked at Émilie as she turned to dry her hands after washing them. Her cheeks were pink and her long lashes fluttered while she was stealing glances at Melinda.
Unable to resist, Melinda kept staring at her. She felt her breath quicken and a pressure inside her chest, begging to be released.
Émilie turned toward her, looked straight into her eyes, and blinked slowly; her long lashes accentuating the effect. She looked like she always had those super expensive fake lashes on, but Melinda had seen her enough that she knew those were her own.
Émilie took a step closer, and Melinda felt herself shiver. She was so close, Melinda could almost feel the heat from her body, almost smell that sweet fragrance again. Émilie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.
"Ma déesse, j'espère que je n'ai pas tort à ce sujet…" she muttered under her breath, barely loud enough that Melinda could hear it. She stepped closer, their bodies almost touching each other.
Émilie cupped Melinda’s chin in her hands, tiptoed, and pressed her lips against hers. She put her arms around Melinda’s neck and pulled her gently closer.
Almost without noticing, Melinda wrapped her hands around Émilie’s waist and squeezed her against herself tightly. They moved their lips, sensually, in sync, for what felt like hours.
They didn’t move from the spot, but just kept their lips touching, their hands coiled around each other, eyes closed. The world stopped existing, and it was like everything in the world was just the two of them. Their hearts beat, almost in sync, loud enough so they could each feel the other’s heartbeat on their own chest. Red hair mixed with blonde.
Melinda felt Émilie’s fingers dancing on her skin at the top of her back. She realized that she was still just wearing her underwear, but it seemed not to be that important anymore.
Skin touched skin; fingers danced on it. Émilie’s fingers never stopped caressing, stroking or just dancing on her neck, her back, her shoulders. Each touch was like a pleasant electric shock, sending pulses through Melinda’s body.
She could smell Émilie; her breath on her skin, her fragrance in her nose. No perfume, no deodorizers, just Émilie. She smelled so good on Melinda’s nose. Her fingers slipped under Émilie’s pajamas and touched her skin at her waist.
Émilie gasped against Melinda’s lips and her body arched backward. It was the first time their lips parted after the start of the kiss.
Melinda opened her eyes and looked at Émilie, who was arching her back, her lips partially open, her lips closed. She was panting hard. Melinda glided her other hand under Émilie’s pajamas too, and moved them up her back, fingers dancing on her skin, exploring every inch of the silky smoothness.
Émilie opened her eyes and looked straight into Melinda’s. Neither spoke anything, they just smiled shyly at each other, hands still around each other. Émilie closed her eyes again, leaned forward and laid her head against Melinda’s shoulder.
"Je t'aime," Émilie whispered almost inaudibly, "je t'aime tellement que ça me fait mal au cœur. Pourquoi ne l'avais-je jamais réalisé avant ... Je suis vraiment désolé de ce que je t'ai fait subir! Ma déesse je t'aime tellement…" She wrapped her hands tighter around Melinda and squeezed her close.
"Emi…" Melinda whispered tenderly, "you’re speaking French again."
Émilie pulled herself away. She had a goofy grin on her lips and her eyes were wet.
"Pardon—" she said, "uh, sorry. Sorry! It’s just… when I get overtly emotional or excited, I don’t even notice it if I accidentally switch to French… Sorry."
Melinda shook her head gently. "Don’t worry. I don’t understand all of it, but I’d listen to your voice all day, even if I didn’t understand a word.
“But I think I understood enough, Emi," she said and smiled at her. "After all, I’ve known you for years already. Some of your language has rubbed off on to me. And don’t worry, don’t apologize. It wasn’t that I realized it either, until yesterday…" she said.
Émilie wiped a tear from her eye. She smiled at Melinda and raised an eyebrow. "You didn’t…? But… I thought… yesterday I realized that it’s always been you. When my heart gets broken, when I’m happy about something, when I’m sad, when I’m bored, when I’m exited. You’re still the one I run to…" she said.
"I’m sorry it took me so long to realize, Mel! You’ve always been the one for me. I don’t know why I’ve even tried looking elsewhere. You’ve always been there for me, through hail and hellfire," she said, and snuggled close to Melinda.
"Hold me close, Mel. Let me be here for just a second more before I wake up or something. I don’t want this to end," she whispered into her neck.
Melinda enveloped Émilie in her arms and leaned her head against hers. A happy tear fell down her cheek, and she made a sound that was midway between a chuckle and a sob. "Then I must say I’m sorry too, that I didn’t realize, earlier. I can’t blame you for anything, since it was me who talked about boyfriends and being a bride and getting a husband.
“How could you know I had feelings toward you, because I didn’t know it myself? I don’t even know myself, yet; what my sexuality is, Emi. I’m certainly not straight, but I don’t feel like I can call myself lesbian either, like you. Maybe bi? But I don’t feel bi. I don’t feel attracted to men - or women - in general.
“I’m certainly not Ace, either,” she went on. “I’m attracted to you, Emi. Maybe I’m just Emi-sexual then," she said and chuckled.
She stroked Émilie’s hair and felt her shake and heard a little chuckle. "Your laugh is adorable," Melinda said. "Don’t try to hide it." She pushed her away from her so she could see her face.
Émilie was smiling and suppressing a chuckle. She opened her eyes and looked into Melinda’s. Her grayish-green eyes twinkled in the light.
Melinda held her breath. She looked so beautiful in her eyes.
"There’s a word for it," Émilie said. "Demisexual. Look it up," she said and smiled again. "While I’m definitely a lesbian, I won’t have eyes for anybody else anymore, Mel. Just you. I’m so lucky to have had you in my life, and I regret it that I didn’t realize it earlier… The things I’ve made you go through…" she said. "Merde, je suis vraiment désolé, ma chère…" she added under her breath.
Melinda squeezed her tightly against her. "Tu n'as rien fait de mal, mon amour," she whispered into her ear with such a terrible accent Émilie chuckled and jiggled as she was trying to suppress a laugh.
Melinda chuckled, too. "Sorry, my French is bad, I know," she said. "But It’s still true, Emi. You’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t apologize for something that wasn’t your fault at any point," she said.
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