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When Brooke wakes up, she feels like she’s on cloud nine. She reaches over to rest her hand on Yvie’s shoulder, reassure herself that last night really happened. That, after all this time of pining and self denial, that she’d actually managed to tell Yvie how she felt.
Of course, only after Yvie had confessed first.
She shifted in the sheets, slight discomfort between her legs bringing back very happy memories. Brooke let out a satisfied hum and patted the pillow down to see her sleeping partner. Yvie’s light brown skin has little smear marks – remnants of lipstick, Brooke thinks. But, the longer she looks, and the more her eyes adjust, she remembers specifically taking off their makeup in between the couch makeout and the first round. Plus, there wasn’t any lipstick on the sheets.
Brow furrowing, Brooke lifted herself on her elbow and gently pulled the sheet away from Yvie’s back, letting her see further down and – oh no. How– she didn’t think last night they’d been that rough but– fuck! Yvie was covered with mauve streaks – was it mauve, or a dark fuschia? Whatever, she was covered in bruises, both big and little, the size of fingertips. Brooke raised a shaking hand to line up with four marks across Yvie’s ribs. The sleeping girl let out a soft groan and grabbed at the sheet, pulling it back over herself. Brooke stayed frozen, stuck in a furious mental argument of whether to wake Yvie up to grovel at her, to duck and run from the house while half naked, or to let her wake up on her own and throw Brooke out herself. Ultimately, the decision was made for her when the half-asleep Yvie reached for Brooke and, finding her wrist, pulled her back in to spoon.
She just lay there, petrified, for what felt like hours. She could no longer bask in the relief and satisfaction that Yvie in her bed should have provided. She was too hyper focused on accounting for every purpleish mark on the back in front of her.
Eventually, Yvie grabbed for her phone, plugged in on her bedside table. The time read 6:57 am. Brooke tried to remember them having time to take out and plug in phones. Yvie must have done it in between rounds. Also, Brooke totally had a lab to get to in an hour. If she’d had her own phone charging all night, she’d be drafting an email to her instructor right now.
She swallowed anxiety. “Morning,” she said, trying not to sound weird.
Yvie rubbed her nose. “Morning.” Her voice was deep with sleep. It turned Brooke’s stomach in a way that would have been nice at any other time than right now.
“Hey, erm, how’d you feel?”
“Fine.” Yvie didn’t look up from her phone. Checking insta. “You?”
“Me? I’m good, good, yeah. I ah…” Brooke chewed her lip.
“Thats good.” Eyes still glued to the screen, Yvie again reached for Brooke’s wrist. She interlaced their fingers and pressed a small kiss to the back of Brooke’s hand.
That broke the dam. Brooke let out a high-pitched whimper, and suddenly tears were distorting her vision. Yvie didn’t seem to notice until Brooke pulled her hand away in an effort to hide her face. She put down her phone and turned toward Brooke, which only ended up making the girl cry harder. “Woah, woah, what the fuck? Brooke, what’s wrong?”
Brooke shook her head, repeating in a whine “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I—“
Yvie threw the sheet off and reached out for her. “Hey, hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Her expression changed. “Unless, if you’re sorry about… last night…I…”
“God, I had no idea, I didn’t think— we weren’t even that rough, I’m just, so sorry you—“
“What are you saying, rough? What are you talking about?” Yvie’s brow lines deepened. “I just woke up.”
A fresh stream of tears poured down Brooke’s face. “Just look at yourself!” She motioned toward Yvie’s bare chest. Fireworks of pink-purple erupted like a rash across Yvie’s collarbone, neck, and all around her chest.
Looking down, Yvie took in the situation for only a second before shaking her head and grabbing Brooke’s cheeks. “Hey. Hey, no, look, you didn’t hurt me, not really.”
“But they’re everywhere,” Brooke sobbed.
Yvie pressed a kiss below each of Brooke’s eyes. She licked the saltwater off her lips and pressed their foreheads together. “Hey, listen. Easy bruising is a part of EDS, okay? You didn’t hurt me, my tissue’s just sensitive. I’m not hurt. They’ll go away in a day or so. There’s no need for all this.” She’d started rocking both of them gently, petting Brooke’s unbrushed hair. “Listen, I would’ve done it all the same, if I could do it again. And I do wanna do it again.”
Brooke let out a laugh, and ended up snotting all over her arm. “Oh, Christ.” She wiped her nose on her arm and her arm on the sheets. They’d have to be washed anyway. Brooke couldn’t bear to look Yvie in the eye. “You real sure about that? You can take it back, y’know.”
Yvie only smiled and scratched dry spit from Brooke’s cheek. Brooke turned an even darker shade of pink. “Oh, I’m sure.”