Work Text:
Her hair was so soft, like feathers upon the pads of her fingers. Annette tries her hardest not to focus on these things, on how Mercie always seemed to smell like lavender, and how her clothes always smelled of cookies ㅡ tried so hard to focus only on moving locks of Mercedes’s hair back and forth, forming a braid.
A soft hum leaves Mercedes’s lips, and Annette pauses, tilting her head. She gulps, not knowing why she’s so nervous; She and Mercedes had been friends for as long as she could remember, ever since their meeting at the Royal School of Sorcery. There was no reason why her fingers should be trembling, why her heartbeat seemed so irregular.
“Annie? Annie-dearest? Are you all right?”
Annette hadn’t realized she had been spacing out until a soft voice rose up, teasing. Annette grinned sheepishly, cheeks flushed.
“I’m totally fine, Mercie. Just thinking about the cookies you’re going to bake later. They’re always so soft and sweet ㅡ I can’t wait!”
The older girl giggled, and a silent sigh left Annette’s lips.
Soft and sweet, lips that were always coated in a thin layer of rosy lipstick, eyes almost a cornflower blue, gentle, yet analytical, always trying to find out what was wrong. Annette always found herself admiring these eyes, admiring Mercie. Wishing to be like her, wishing to be with her.
Annette had tried to push these feelings away so many times before, wishing that she could just see Mercedes, see other girls, as friends. Her father...would her father abandon her yet again if he knew? Knew that she yearned for her best friend like this? Yearned for girls like this? For Mercedes’s soft lips and even softer skin, for the bruises on her knuckles or the crackle of thunder around her fingertips? What would he think, what would the church think if they knew the little flutter her heart did every time Mercedes healed her wound, every time Mercedes placed a little kiss on her forehead before she went to sleep during their sleepovers ㅡ how Annette watched the soft rise and fall of Mercedes’s breath, making sure she was sleeping soundly? What would Mercedes think?
Surely they would still be friends, but things would never be the same. No more goodnight forehead kisses or shared lipstick tubes, no more cuddling on the lawns and baking cookies late into the night, licking frosting off the spoons and smearing little beards on each others faces, giggling because Mercedes looked like Seteth and Annette looked like Hanneman with a dollop of frosting on her chin.
No more close hugs, no more Mercedes.
Annette finished the braid, wrapping a black ribbon around the end, and Mercedes got up, placing a kiss on Annette’s cheek, then pulling it gently afterwards.
“Come on Annie-dearest, let’s go to the dining hall. I hear they’re serving your favorite dessert today!”
Annette blushes once more, nodding. She supposed this would have to do for now, although she yearned for so much more.