Chapter Text
The morning after, Amity is cuddling her wonderful girlfriend on the bottom bunk. They’d slept next to each other the previous night, snuggled up like two peas in a pod, and it felt incredible.
She’s leaning against the smaller girl’s chest, an arm wrapped around her upper body as Luz idly uses the other to stroke her hair.
It’s a lazy morning and they haven’t even gotten up to have coffee yet despite waking up half an hour ago. They’ve barely even spoken, simply just enjoying each other’s warmth. Through their relationship so far, Amity has found that she really, really enjoys physical touch. And Luz, a naturally touchy and affectionate person, is more than willing to supply her needs.
The hand stills and Amity thinks she’s fallen back asleep—the rise and fall off her chest is slow and steady.
“Did I ever tell you about my dad?”
Her words are soft as she tucks a little bit of hair back behind Amity’s ear.
Amity blinks her eyes open and peers up at her girlfriend, shaking her head.
“I should’ve after I calmed down the other day, but I totally forgot. You’re missing a huge chunk of the backstory and I don’t want you thinking my mom was out to hurt me or that she’s a bad person,” Luz says as she pulls the other girl a little closer to her body. “Because she wasn’t, and she isn’t. She met my dad shortly after college, and they got married and then had me within, I wanna say, five years? Maybe a little longer, she hasn’t told me anything about him in a really long time and I don’t know if little six year old Luz remembered it properly.”
She sighs and Amity begins to trace patterns onto the arm holding her. “They were soulmates, obviously. My mom had a really pretty purple mark similar to mine and my dad’s was some sort of teal or turquoise. He was a good dad to me, took time to play and do things with me, everything a good parent should do. I don’t remember any issues between him and my mom, but I was also just a kid. One day I woke up and he was just… gone. Both him and all his belongings.”
“Luz,” Amity murmurs, looking up at her with concern, but Luz just chuckles and kisses the top of her head.
“I’m okay, Ames, I promise. It was like he never lived in the house. I don’t know if he was cheating on her or if he needed a break, or if he was planning on divorcing her or if there was some other reason. My mom never told me anything and honestly I don’t know if she knew either.”
She pauses for a moment. “And then he passed away in a car accident not too long after. A drunk driver crashed into him.”
As soon as those last words leave her mouth, Amity nearly bolts upright. The news that her dad was dead was never brought up during the argument. Losing a parent on top of having them leave in the middle of the night as a child couldn’t be easy, even if it happened over a decade ago.
And Luz knows she’s concerned, because she looks away guiltily. “Maybe I’m not okay,” she admits. “Mom let me go to his funeral, but that’s the only closure I got, and I-“
Her words cut off as her girlfriend pulls her into a hug. She chokes out a light sob and buries her face into her shoulder, Amity soothing her through it.
Amity always thought her own family was messed up. One mostly absent parent and one too involved in her life for too long, and stuck up older siblings that were essentially bullies to her. Knowing that her cute little soulmate had one just as equally messed up doesn’t make her feel any better about her own. Her heart aches instead, because Luz didn’t deserve to grow up like that. She’s too nice, too kind, always trying to help everyone in any way she can without expecting anything in return.
While she’s really angry at Camila, she also sympathizes with her. Losing her soulmate, her spouse, her child’s father like that had to have been difficult. But her child was suffering too, for years , without her mom to support her. Or anyone, for that matter.
There’s quiet rustling of clothes as Luz sits herself back up. “Sorry, I thought I was mostly over that,” she says quietly as she rubs her damp eyes. “But that's basically it. He left us and then suddenly died and I don’t think either of us got to grieve properly. Mom’s grief turned into her seeing soulmates as nothing but pain, and I can’t blame her for that. She didn’t realize the impact saying that so often would do to an impressionable and grieving young kid.”
She laughs softly and finally looks at her girlfriend. “Wait, Ames, are you crying too?”
Amity blinks and brings a hand to her face, surprised when her fingers touch tears. “Apparently.”
Luz chuckles lightly. “Aw, babe, I can’t believe you care about me enough to cry on my behalf.”
“You know I’ve always been hyper empathetic,” her girlfriend says, “I can’t help it. And I am, excuse my language, beyond pissed at your mom for not being there for you when you needed her most. I get she was also grieving, but it’s a really fucked up thing to do to a kid. So of course I’m going to get emotional over that.”
“It really was a fucked up thing, wasn’t it?” Luz reaches over and grabs a tissue from the bedside table to dab at Amity’s wet cheeks. Her hand lingers after she’s done with one side, hovering a few inches away. “But… if she wants to start fixing things now, I think I’m willing to try.”
As she moves over to the other side, she pauses. “Wait, had I ever told you that my dad was dead?”
Amity shakes her head.
“Ugh, no wonder you reacted like that! God, I am such an idiot. How come you never asked?”
“Because asking why a parent is absent is rude,” she says, voice still a little choked up. “At least that’s what I was taught, because it could be due to a plethora of painful things. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or remember things you’d rather forget.”
Done with cleaning up her face, Luz tosses the crumpled tissue in the vague direction of the trashcan. “Y’know, fair enough. I wouldn’t have minded if you had asked, but it’s a little late for that.”
She presses a kiss to both of Amity‘s cheeks before snuggling herself up against her chest. Amity wraps her arms around her, pulling her in closer and holding her secure. She wishes they’d started cuddling sooner in the relationship, but she also likes that they’re taking things slow. Neither of them have had any romantic experience before, after all. They’re both learning what they’re doing alongside each other.
“I think I’m ready to talk to her.”
“Are you sure?” Amity gently asks. “I don’t want you to push yourself if you aren’t ready yet.”
“Mhm,” Luz nods, “I am. Christmas is soon, she’s done a good job of giving me space and respecting boundaries, and she’s made it pretty clear she approves of you. There’s no point in dragging this out any longer when she’s waiting for me to be ready.”
“If that’s what you want,” Amity says, kissing the top of her head, “I’ll be there for you.”
———
The next morning is when they put their plan in action. Plan is a strong word, because they don’t really have one, but it’s the perfect time to do something . Camila is off work, cleaning the dishes after they’ve all had (a silent, semi awkward) breakfast. Luz and Amity stick around, waiting for her to place the last plate in the drying rack before speaking.
“Mom? Can we talk?”
Camila flinches, and Amity can plainly see that she’s trying her hardest to look calm.
“Yes, mija, just give me a second.”
Her hands tremble as she wipes them on the dish towel set on the counter. Once she sits down across the table, she folds her hands and keeps her gaze downcast, refusing to meet either of their eyes.
When Luz doesn’t say anything, her mom picks up on the fact she’s expected to start it.
And “I’m sorry” are the first two words out of her mouth. They come out so fast that they nearly trip over each other.
She pauses, looking for her words, mouth moving as she begins to form some but abandons them a second later. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most, and I’m sorry I was so wrapped up in my own grief that I couldn’t see how much harm I was causing. You were just a kid who lost her father for the second time and I was too blinded to realize you were grieving too. I thought I was doing a good thing,” her voice cracks, but she pushes on. “I thought I was properly warning and preparing you for the future. I didn’t think I was actually teaching you to push yourself away from everyone because they may just end up hurting you. You were such a strong little girl, still are so strong that I didn’t realize you were hurting so bad.”
The older woman has tears running down her cheeks now, hands still firmly clasped as she tries to keep herself together.
A sniff from Amity's left makes her realize Luz is in a similar state to her mom. Since her arms are currently crossed and her hands tucked away, Amity rubs her knee as soothingly as she can.
“I know you didn’t mean it,” Luz chokes out, her voice being the thing that makes Camila finally look up. “I know it wasn’t your intention to hurt me, but you still did. I still spent years thinking the mark on my back was a curse and I was terrified of accidentally turning it. I was afraid you’d hate me or think I was a failure if one day I came home with one.”
Her mom takes a long, deep, shaky breath, processing her daughter’s words. “I would never have hated you for finding your soulm-”
“Then why were you so upset when you saw my turned mark for the first time!? You didn’t give me parental disappointment or disapproval o-or any sort of moderate response, you were angry.”
Amity remembers the way the older woman’s voice dripped with anger, the way she’d shouted, the way Luz had looked so small.
“I was upset because you hadn’t told me!” Camila exclaims, hands flying up in the air. “I was upset you hadn’t told me, but now I know exactly why you hadn’t.” She laughs bitterly, putting her head in her hands. “I gave you every reason to want to keep it a secret.”
The room falls silent for a moment, aside from a few sniffles.
“I don’t hate you for your mark turning,” she continues, “it was going to happen eventually. I knew it would. It’s something everyone goes through and it’s simply just a part of getting older. I should’ve prepared you for what to do when it happens, not make you think it was going to be some sort of monster.”
Luz wipes her wet eyes with her already wet sleeve, shaking her head. “There’s no way you were only upset because I hadn’t told you. You’ve never been that angry before, ever.”
At some point, Camila’s hands had clasped back together. She sits there, thinking, as Amity reaches across to the middle of the table to grab a napkin. “...I think I might have been imagining all the ways it could possibly hurt you in the future. Your father-,” she gulps, and Amity sees her hands tighten around themselves at the mention of him. But she shakes her head and scraps that line of thought. “I was angry at myself for letting it happen, even when there wasn’t a thing I could have done to prevent it. I was angry that the universe paired me with someone that just up and left one day, and then left this plane of existence so shortly after–and I was terrified the universe would do the same thing to you. And all of that got misdirected at you, when you didn’t do a thing to deserve it.
“And you were right. I would have been making unfair assumptions about Amity based on my own pain if I’d known she was your soulmate sooner, even after getting to know her. I am so, so sorry, Luz, I’m so sorry to both of you.”
Amity stiffens at the mention of her own name but relaxes slightly upon hearing Camila’s apology.
“I’m still a little mad at you,” Luz says softly, “and you apologizing doesn’t erase the twelve years of pain you inadvertently caused me.”
Her words hang heavy in the room, like a thick fog.
“I know. I’m sorry for taking this long to realize what I was doing and this long to try and fix it.” Her hands squeeze together and she thins her mouth for a few seconds. “If you’re open to it, do you want to try family therapy? I would be going myself as well, independently, but I think it’s the best thing for us right now.”
Luz’s eyes brighten at the mention and she nods her head vigorously. Her mom relaxes a bit, offering a weak smile.
“I still love you, cariño, even if I-”
Her words get cut off by the younger Noceda launching herself into a hug, having run around the table before her mom could register it.
“I love you too, Mom, even if my previous words still stand.”
They’re both crying and the hug surpasses ten, fifteen, twenty seconds before Luz pulls away enough to turn around and offer an arm out to Amity. “You get in here too.”
She’s hesitant until Camila also opens up an arm, smiling at her as warmly as she can given the circumstances.
The hug is warm.