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i.
Lucy is nine years old when she’s first told that how she feels for Mina is considered out of the ordinary.
“When I marry, I want to marry a man who’s intelligent – and kind!”, Mina happily prattles along, her voice airy with excitement, still taken by the wonder of the stories they’d read just minutes before. The legend of King Arthur, old myths of chivalry and bravery, none of those modern novels their parents fret about. It’s still more than Lucy’s governess will allow her, afraid that her young mind might get lost among the pages.
“Be sure to stay on top of your reading then, an intelligent man won’t settle for a dull girl at his side”, Mina’s governess, Mrs Sheffield, replies, not unkindly – never unkindly, Lucy thinks with a slight pang of envy. Then again, someone as bright and kind and good as Mina would not give her governess many reasons to be unkind. It makes Lucy wonder why Mina’s parents would even have a need for a governess, since their daughter is already perfect. Lucky Mrs Sheffield must be envied by all her peers, getting to spend her entire day with Mina.
“What about you, Lucy? Who do you want to marry?”, Mina asks, and Lucy can feel two pairs of eyes burrow into her. Marriage. She can barely think about it without scoffing. She can’t stand any of the boys she knows, boys like Henry, the Fairfax’ son, who likes to pull Mina’s hair and kick against her shins under the table when his parents aren’t looking. If he is what a ‘fine young gentleman’ is supposed to be, she doesn’t want any part of it. He’s rude, snotty and rough. Unlike Mina.
“I don’t think I shall marry”, Lucy says. “I just want to stay with Mina.”
Mrs Sheffield can’t quite hide the way Lucy’s reply catches her off guard. Her features twist into a frown for just a moment or two, before smoothing over again.
“Well, I remember not caring for any of the boys when I was your age, too”, the governess offers. “You’ll change your mind when you’re older. It’s simply a matter of meeting the right man.”
Lucy can barely resist the urge to stomp her feet in an entirely unladylike display of frustration. She knows she won’t change her mind, and she doesn’t care one bit for the way Mrs Sheffield talks over her!
“Don’t pay her any mind”, Mina whispers to her once the governess has turned her back to them. She takes her hand and gives it an affectionate squeeze. “We’ll always stay together, even after we marry.”
Lucy doesn’t answer, because kind as Mina is, she just doesn’t seem to understand what she means, and Lucy doesn’t know how to make her friend see reason. So instead, she uses her sleeve to wipe at the tears that have sprung from her eyes unbidden. She knows herself better than any governess will ever know her, and she knows one thing above all: Never in her life will a boy be more important to her than Mina.
ii.
Lucy is 14 years old and it is getting increasingly difficult to look at Mina. It’s something she can’t quite explain, or perhaps she doesn’t dare to entertain the notion in her mind for long enough to form a conclusion. Either way, there is a strange atmosphere between them now, at least on Lucy’s part, and she prays that Mina doesn’t perceive it as well. Things that were as natural as breathing before, things that should be as natural as breathing have suddenly taken on a new grandness. Whenever they share a bed now she can barely catch a wink of sleep, her focus consumed entirely by Mina’s warmth and every point of contact between their bodies, making her heart race and her breath stutter. Whenever Mina, sweet, unwitting Mina changes in front of her she can feel an entirely unfamiliar heat rise until it becomes too much to bear and she has to avert her eyes. Sometimes she will look at her best friend and out of the blue the brunette’s beauty will steal the breath right from her lungs. Sometimes, her eyes will catch on Mina’s lips, and she wonders what it might feel like if she were to just lean in -
Perhaps Lucy is getting ill.
She fears she might be past any chance of recovery already.
Still, she needs to nip this, whatever it is, in the bud. She has no idea how to do it, but she’s locked herself in her room. She’s been refusing meals and company, because until she’s found a way to contain this, to push it into a corner of her mind so deep it can never come up again, she can’t be trusted around Mina. What if she does something thoughtless? What if, in one lapse of control, she’d find herself acting on her most secret impulses, destroying their friendship forever, branding herself a twisted pariah?
There’s a knock on the door, without the hesitation the servants often display when they attempt to coax her into accepting a tray of rapidly cooling dinner, and gentler yet than her mother’s knock. She knows it’s her before she even has the chance to announce her presence.
“Lucy? May I come in, please?”
She’s completely aware it’s a mistake, she’s aware in her state this might very likely end in disaster, but she is also aware that she will never be able to deny her friend a single wish. She strides across the room, steadily avoiding Mina’s gaze as she lets her in, as if the simple act of meeting her eyes would set her ablaze. Lucy can’t rule out the possibility that it might.
“Why have you been avoiding me?”, Mina asks.
“I’m sorry,” is all Lucy can come up with.
“The least you could do is not avoid my question”, her friend huffs, and even now, cornered as she is, Lucy can’t help how her heart swells with affection for hard-headed, iron-willed Mina. She opens her mouth, but despite usually being so quick to come up with quips it can’t find the words to express what needs to be said.
“Are we fighting? Was it something I said?”, Mina inquires further, her voice softer now.
That Lucy can’t abide by. She can’t let Mina believe this entire wretched situation is her fault, not for a second.
“Oh, sweet Mina, no! It’s me, it’s my fault, I just – it’s just…”, she trails off, cowardly, because even though it’s the right thing to do she can’t bring herself to ruin what she still has left. Lucy can see Mina open her mouth, to question her further, probably, but she seems to think better of it. Instead, she closes the gap between them, taking Lucy in her arms, and Lucy, curse her weakness, readily lets herself melt into the embrace.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words, Lucy. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong? I worry about you.”
There was no way Lucy could hold the tears at bay now.
“I’m so, so sorry for making you worry”, she sniffles, letting herself be comforted by the familiar smell of Mina’s floral perfume. “And I can only apologize for shutting you out like this.”
“Don’t worry about all of that now. All I care about is your happiness”
“But you make me happy”, Lucy states, quietly. It is the profound truth: She’d never been so miserable in her entire life than the days she’s isolated herself, and these few minutes in her friend’s company seem to have healed her like molten gold seeping into the open cracks on her heart, filling up the empty spaces. Mina pulled back, brow furrowed, both of her hands coming up to gently cup her face, wiping away her tears with her thumbs. Lucy exhales a shuddering sigh.
“If that is true than I’m afraid you’re being very ridiculous right now”, Mina admonishes gently. “Because what you need right now is to not wallow in your own self-pity. You need a day on the town with your best friend to distract you from your murky thoughts, and maybe after you can tell me what weighs so heavily on your heart.”
It’s a wonder how Mina can’t see the adoration plainly written across her face as Lucy takes the hand that’s offered to her, already concocting a completely fabricated story about some young man breaking her heart to placate Mina’s curiosity about her disappearance.
“Nobody makes me as happy as you”, Lucy murmurs, and although the words are only meant for herself Mina picks up on them nonetheless.
“Then you can count yourself lucky that I won’t let you waste away in a sunless room, dearest Lucy. I’ll say, you really are dramatic sometimes.”
You’d understand if you knew , Lucy thinks, forgive me, but I pray you’ll never know .
iii.
She’s been confined to her bed in isolation for days now. At least she believes so, but her sense of time has been utterly shattered by drifting in and out of fevered dreams, with no way to tell the time of the day but from the light – or lack thereof – coming in through the window.
She wishes they’d just talk to her. In the beginning she was at least able to get some information from her mother when the doctor informed her of Lucy’s state in a hushed voice, like the uncertainty of what was happening to her would bring her any peace of mind. Most of the information she got was conveyed by her mother through worried glances, through the tight smiles and reassurances of “it’s nothing serious, you’re going to be up and about in no time at all” meant to bring her comfort, but only accomplished the opposite as she knew all of her mother’s tells. It was obvious Lucy was being lied to.
But it doesn’t matter now, not anymore, since the doctor has forbidden her mother from entering her room for longer than an hour a day, since he is convinced the visits cause Lucy nothing but distress. In reality, of course, nothing is more distressing than slowly watching the angry red rash of scarlet fever creep over her chest and arms in isolation.
In the initial state of Lucy’s illness, Mina did not leave her side at all, and now, after the doctor had to forcibly remove her from Lucy’s bedside more than once, she’s taken to sneaking into Lucy’s room at night. No matter how hard Lucy protests – or tries to, her throat feels too raw and tight to speak more often than not– stubborn Mina cares not for Lucy’s worries of the disease spreading to her, because apparently, the fever has made her quite contradictory: While she sends her friend away during her few hours of wakefulness, in her sleep she’s known to call out for Mina, no-one but Mina. What other secrets her feverish mind may lay bare Lucy does not dare think about, but since Mina keeps coming back to her the thing she fears most can’t have come to pass yet. How strange, she muses, that even as she is getting her throat painted with horribly painful tinctures twice a day it is this she frets over every minute of every waking hour.
She awakes to a darkened room only illuminated by the few candles that have not yet burned down, sunken into a chair by her bedside none other than Mina, sleeping. Lucy’s eyes drift downward to their hands, intertwined even in their sleep, and she can’t help but stroke the palm of Mina’s hand with her fingertips, tracing patterns over her delicate fingers, imagining herself lifting it up to her lips and kissing each one -
With a soft sigh, Mina rouses, and Lucy’s hand jerks back as if Mina’s skin had burned her. Her friend’s eyes dart around the room, disoriented, before settling on Lucy’s face. Lucy shudders inwardly as she imagines what a ghastly sight she must be, skin sickly pale with red splotches creeping up her neck, her eyes glassy from the fever. But in Mina’s gaze there’s no pity, only affection, and it alone makes Lucy want to cry.
“Lucy”, Mina breathes, her voice still thick with sleep. Despite her aching limbs Lucy lifts a hand and pushes against her friend’s thigh, weak but insistent. Keep your distance, she tries to convey. I couldn’t bear it if you were to get ill as well.
It’s a testament to their bond that Mina understands her without issue, even though all she has to say on the matter is “I won’t leave you alone, Lucy, so don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”
A hand comes to touch her forehead, and despite the fever Lucy can feel additional heat rise to her cheeks. Worry is clearly etched into Mina’s face.
“First and foremost, we need to keep your temperature down.”
Mina’s voice, calm and firm, brings her more comfort than her mother’s hushed reassurances ever have. There is a bucket of rags soaking in freezing water next to her bed, she hears it sloshing and closes her eyes, bracing herself for the icy touch.
“This is going to feel very cold”, Mina whispers, and the warning is more than the doctor has ever afforded her. In fact, it’s very likely that they’ve exchanged more words in the last minutes than the doctor ever has deigned to waste on her over the entire course of her illness. In fact, she’s not sure the doctor even knows her name – to him she might be called scarletina since he seems to regard her as nothing but her disease. Lucy gasps at the first touch of the icy rags to her heated skin as Mina carefully places them on her forehead with steady hands. Mina is knowledgeable about these things, she’s knowledgeable about a lot of things a young lady like her has no business being aware of. Her childhood passion for reading has only grown stronger the older they got, they’d soon turned to reading penny dreadfuls in secret, huddled together in bed way after nightfall, both of them trying to keep a brave face and yet almost jumping out of their skin at every benign noise of the mansion at night. Now she’s taken to sneaking into her father’s study, reading every medical journal she can get her hands on. She’d make a fine doctor, Lucy muses. Certainly better than the odious man in whose care she is now, although that might not be saying much.
Despite the burning sensation the cold rags inflict on her she feels her eyelids grow heavy and her mind grow sluggish with exhaustion.
“Mina”, she manages to croak.
“Shhh”, Mina admonishes, one wet hand cupping her cheek. “Don’t exert yourself too much.”
“Stay.”
It’s utterly selfish, but Lucy has proven to be nothing but a selfish creature. She craves the comfort Mina’s presence provides like she craves her next breath.
Lucy eyes have already closed, but she can still hear the smile curl around her best friend’s voice when she mutters: “I’ll stay for as long as you want me to.”
Always. I want you always , Lucy thinks, or maybe speaks. Everything hurts and the difference doesn’t seem to matter anymore.
“Then I’m afraid you’re stuck with me”, are the last words she hears before sleep pulls her under again.
iv.
Lucy would never have thought it possible to be so infatuated with a person that even their handwriting would seem endearing, but nonetheless she finds herself mindlessly skimming through Mina’s scientific notes, tracing the energetic curve of her gs, the elegant bow of her fs, and smiles at all the places the aspiring doctor has smudged the ink in her haste to capture every single ounce of knowledge on the page. It almost feels like she’s reading something private, like she’s intruded on her friend’s journal, but she can’t bring herself to stop. At least it distracts her from her worry.
Mina should have arrived from her studies half an hour ago. Lucy’s let herself into Mina’s room to escape the dreadful weather outside as if it were her own home. Considering the amount of time she spends there, it might as well be. Lucy glances at the clock. It hasn’t been a long time, even though it feels like hours, but Lucy can’t help the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that something might be wrong, that something is holding her up, that something has happened. With a huff, she closes the notebook. Maybe she’s just gotten used to being Mina’s first priority. Is this what she’s come to? Resenting Mina for chasing her dreams, dreams that she might have thought unattainable if it weren’t Mina who was pursuing them? She remembers the pride she felt when Mina told her through tears of joy that she’d been accepted into the medical society, as if her friend’s accomplishments were her own. No, she could never begrudge sweet Mina her ambition, as her drive is one of the most captivating things about her.
She hears footsteps rapidly approaching, a quick, decisive snap of heels that she’s come to associate with no-one but Mina. The door bursts open, and the smile that has snuck it’s way upon Lucy’s lips as it always does in Mina’s blessed presence drips from her face like the rain pelting against the windows as she sees the expression on her dear friend’s face. Jaw locked and eyes facing forward, fists clenched so tight her knuckles are whitening, she wears the expression of someone desperately trying to hold back tears of anger.
“Oh, Mina”, Lucy gasps, rushing to meet her friend, “what happened?”
“What happened?”, Mina hisses, smashing her books down on her bedside table. “I’m tired of being held to an entirely different standard than my peers and being made a fool of should I slip up even once!”
Of course. Men, Lucy thinks, they never miss an opportunity to prove my distaste for them right.
“One mistake!”, Mina rages. “One mistake, and it is grounds for having my suitability for this field of studies called into question! Explain it to me, Lucy, how a man can skip lectures to go gallivanting around town, reeking of liquor when he does deign to show himself only to fall asleep in his seat minutes later, and yet it is I to whom the professor recommends to re-evaluate their goals?” There’s fire in her eyes, and fervour in her voice, and Lucy feels equal parts pity for the men that dare challenge her not knowing the storm that they’ll reap, and equal parts a shameful longing to bear the brunt of her ardour, to be swept up completely by her force. The notion makes the blood rise to her cheeks and she knows she will guiltily revisit it later, alone in her bedchambers. For now, she pushes it aside, focusing on the Mina that is in front of her right now, in need of her support, not the fictitious version that inhabits her inverted fantasies.
“It’s because they are afraid of you. They are afraid of your intellect, your skill, your potential, and they’d rather wear you down and force you to give up on your dreams because they know you’re smarter than the lot of them combined. You threaten them, Mina, you threaten their entire view of the world with them at the top, undisputed. They see your excellence, and it terrifies them.”
Lucy is a bit breathless when she finishes, and she averts her eyes, suddenly embarrassed by her outburst and the palpability of her awe. Still, she won’t take it back, not a single word, because it is nothing but the truth and she needs Mina to know it.
Mina swallows, eyes burning with fierce determination. “I scare them? Good. I shall prove them right.”
And suddenly, Lucy feels quite dizzy. The silence between them stretches on, and, in an effort to fill it, Lucy blurts out the first thing that comes to mind:
“Before you do that, I do believe you’ve earned a little petty revenge. Remember that time I slipped ink into Henry Fairfax’ tea?”
Mina stares at her for a few moments, incredulous, before the tension breaks and she lets out the most endearing snort of laughter. To Lucy, no music could ever reach perfection such as this, and she’ll gladly make herself a jester if her reward shall be to hear this beautiful sound one more time.
“I mean it, I believe it improved his manners greatly.”
“Because he was too ashamed of his black teeth to speak!”
“From what I’ve learned, most men would be twice as amiable if they’d just keep their mouths shut.”
“Tempting”, Mina giggles, “but we’re not children anymore.”
Lucy pretends to sigh in disappointment. “You’re right, of course. It’s time we moved on from child’s play such as this. After all, as a soon-to-be doctor you of all people should know where to procure laxatives.”
“Lucy!”, Mina exclaims, playfully pushing her with just a little too much vigour, causing Lucy to stumble backwards, reaching out towards Mina as not to fall but only succeeding in knocking her off balance as well. For a few frantic moments they stay clutching at each other, swaying wildly like a pine at the mercy of a savage storm, before they find their footing again. Lucy closes her eyes, savouring each fleeting second before Mina will inevitably disentangle herself with a nervous giggle, shattering the strange intimacy of the moment. Yet her friend makes no move to do so. On the contrary, Lucy is startled to feel the weight of Mina gently resting her forehead on her shoulder. She can’t think straight. Her senses are awash with Mina’s warmth, the enticing scent of her perfume, the soothing rhythm of her breathing...she’s close enough for Lucy to feel each exhale warm against the skin of her neck. Is Mina aware how fast her heart is beating? She must be. It’s racing in Lucy’s ears like a pounding war drum. Lucy clenches her hands into fists until she can feel her fingernails painfully digging into her palms to distract herself, to keep herself from doing something as foolish as pressing her lips to Mina’s hair.
“Oh, darling Lucy, I do love you.” She’s so caught up in Mina’s bittersweet closeness that even after she feels her sweet friend’s lips form the words against her neck it takes a few moments for their meaning to sink in, and they bring with them a particularly painful ache. Not as I love you. The words are clear in Lucy’s mind, making her throat tighten and hot tears rise to her eyes.
“Sometimes it really does feel like you’re the only one in my corner as I’m opposing the rest of the world.”
Lucy doesn’t answer, can’t answer, for she fears her voice won’t obey her if she tries. So she settles on holding Mina a bit tighter, extending their embrace just a few moments longer, as to hide the tears are now flowing freely.
v.
“I barely get to see you anymore.”
Mina’s right, of course. And it isn’t entirely owed to Mina’s medical studies, as much as Lucy would like to pretend it is the case. The truth is this: Lucy has been avoiding her. For her own sake, for her own sanity’s sake, because whenever they’re together now, he finds a way to insert himself into the situation, and the heartache is eating Lucy alive. So she’s been distancing herself, as a way of self-preservation. Best to get used to it now, she reckons, before the wedding, and the children that will follow, and the rift between them that will only grow further and further until Mina will realize that there is no more space for somebody like Lucy in her life.
“I’m sure Jonathan isn’t complaining.”
It’s a low blow and she regrets it as soon as it’s passed her lips. Not for fear of hurting Jonathan’s feelings, of course, but because now his presence is looming over them like a spectre even when he isn’t present. It’s the first sleepover Mina and her have had in weeks, a regular activity among them turned to a once-in-a-blue-moon occasion, and still she’s given him the power to worm his way into it. They’re lying right next to each other, close enough to touch, but there’s still a distance between them that was never there when they were younger. Now, they might as well be continents apart.
“Honestly, Lucy”, Mina hisses, propping herself up on her elbow and turning over to face her. “Must you paint Jonathan’s name black whenever you talk about him? What on earth could he have done to deserve such treatment from you?”
“What has he done? I find myself asking the same thing every hour of every day. What has he ever done for you, besides offering you support in name only, secretly hoping to make a docile housewife out of you yet?”
“You don’t know him like I do!”, Mina shouts, and it’s another thing that’s new between them, the shouting. They’d had fights before, of course, Lucy is convinced that two headstrong and intelligent individuals such as them can’t spend this much time in close proximity without quarrelling every so often, but their fights have become more frequent and more vicious.
“For all this time you’ve been seeing each other, I cannot think of one moment he took a stand for you!”
Not like I do, she catches herself thinking, and shudders immediately. How bitter she’s become. She can see Mina scrambling to come up with a response, but Lucy is too enraged to give her a quarter.
“Pray tell, Mina, what is one thing you admire about him? Hell, tell me one thing you like about Jonathan!”
Lucy slowly watches the anger in her friend’s eyes fade as the fight seems to leave her body and she turns away from her again, her gaze now fixed to an invisible point on the ceiling.
“He’s amiable”, Mina offers weakly.
“Oh, is that what they call a wet blanket nowadays?”, Lucy can’t help but scoff.
“He loves me”, Mina says, even quieter.
So do I, Lucy wants to say, Lucy yearns to say, but of course she can’t. She mustn’t. There are so many words inside her, emotions she’s repressed for so long, and she can feel them bubbling up, only a hair’s breadth away from spilling to the surface and ruining everything.
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
Nobody does, she wants to add, but her heart, her treacherous, foolish heart instead possesses her to say: “No man does.”
In a blink of an eye, the room is doused in an eerie quiet, as the weight of what she has just said settles in. Mina’s head whips around so fast Lucy might have feared for the muscles in her neck if she wasn’t frozen to the spot, panic gripping her insides with an icy grasp as Mina silently regards her with an expression usually reserved for the most difficult of riddles, like she’s a particularly challenging problem to solve. Lucy desperately tries to find a way to backtrack, to claim it was nothing but a silly joke, but the words die in her throat as with one fluid movement Mina leans in and -
Lucy closes her eyes, a soft gasp escaping her. This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening, there’s no way Mina is about to kiss her, and yet Lucy prepares herself for the gentle touch of soft lips on hers.
She’s proven right when Mina instead presses a kiss to her forehead.
Right. Of course.
Lucy would have laughed at herself and her inability to learn if she didn’t feel like crying. Of course Mina wouldn’t want to kiss her, why can’t she just accept it? Why must she torture herself with foolish hope?
The contact lasts for one second, maybe two, before Mina pulls back, completely wordless. Lucy, too, is stunned silent, even more so when her friend blows out the candle on the bedside table before burrowing into her side as if they were children again, sighing softly as she rested her head on Lucy’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Me neither”, Lucy croaks, leaning her cheek against soft brown hair.
She doesn’t sleep a wink that night.
vi.
She’s still holding onto the note as she enters the garden. She’s clutching onto it, balling it up and rendering it illegible. Not that it matters, she’s read and re-read it so many times by now she knows the words by heart. It’s not a great feat by any means, since the entire page is taken up by only two sentences, penned with a shaking hand in great haste:
Meet me in the gardens, urgently. Come alone.
- Mina
Lucy doesn’t want to come. She doesn’t think she can face Mina. But she also can’t stand waiting on her lonesome.
Lucy isn’t stupid, she knows the reason for Mina summoning her to meet her by herself. She’s noticed how they haven’t exchanged more than a few words ever since that night. She knows she’s pulled back the veil too far, she’s shown too much of herself and now this is the end of them. She can’t blame Mina, but it doesn’t stop her from wishing she could delay the inevitable for just one more day.
No man does, she’d said. The only way she could have been any more transparent would be to have physically thrown herself at Mina. She’s nothing but a lovesick, foolish girl, and she’s ruined everything she’s ever had because of one moment of weakness. And now, the moment to reap what she’s sown has come.
She’s so lost in thought she almost runs into Mina quite literally, who’s been rushing to meet her. Lucy takes one look at her friend and regrets it instantly: Her (former?) friend’s eyes are red-rimmed, like she’s been crying, and Lucy can feel the guilt that has been coiling in her stomach since she’s first read Mina’s note screws itself even tighter.
“Lucy”, Mina breathes, eyes wide, her fists clenching and unclenching with nervous energy she can’t seem to hold back. She doesn’t even wait for Lucy to respond to her greeting before words spring forth from her like a rushing waterfall: “I’ve been thinking about everything you told me.”
Whatever tentative flicker of hope Lucy might have had is mercilessly and wholly extinguished.
“Mina, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am -”
Mina holds up a hand and she instantly falls silent.
“Please, Lucy, let me finish. I need to get this of my chest, and I fear that if I stop now I’ll lose the courage to go on.”
Lucy nods, numbly.
“Thank you”, Mina says with a fleeting smile, before visibly steeling herself.
“I broke off my engagement to Jonathan.” The words come out in one desperate rush, and she sighs, deeply, as if a physical weight has been lifted off of her.
Lucy is sure she must have misheard. “You did what?”
Mina doesn’t acknowledge Lucy’s outcry.
“I’ve thought about everything you’ve told me, and you’re right. And I knew I couldn’t carry on like this, I knew it wouldn’t be fair, neither to me nor to Jonathan.”
This is happening. It’s indeed happening and Lucy can’t help the overwhelming elation she feels. She ought to feel sorry for Jonathan instead, or worried for Mina, but in this moment she’s wholly taken by glee. Mina is free of him, they’re both free of him. Somewhere in the back of her head an ugly voice tells her that this doesn’t mean anything, that at the end of the day Mina will always remain unattainable and she will suffer through heartbreak after heartbreak, but this one time the voice is easy to drown out.
“I knew I couldn’t carry on”, Mina repeats, her voice softer now and filled with a kind of tenderness Lucy can’t begin to fathom. Mina takes Lucy’s hands in hers – she carelessly drops the balled up note on the ground – and holds them close to her chest. Her eyes are swimming in tears once more, but her smile is all the brighter.
“Not when my heart is completely consumed by love for another.”
In one sentence Mina has broken her. It’s as if the rug has been pulled from under her feet, leaving her to stumble backwards into darkness. Why does it even surprise her? Why does the notion of Mina, sweet, intelligent, wonderful, beautiful, incredible Mina being loved and desired catch her off guard?
“Do I know the lucky gentleman?”, Lucy asks with a smile that she’s sure doesn’t reach her eyes. She can feel hot tears building up behind her eyes and knows that she won’t be able to uphold this facade for long.
“Do you know- Lucy, you say the silliest things sometimes!”, Mina giggles, too wrapped up in her own love drunk joy to notice Lucy’s pain. It’s too much altogether, and Lucy wrenches her hands from Mina’s grip.
“I hope he makes you happy”, she manages to say before turning away sharply, fleeing this conversation to preserve whatever she has left of her dignity.
“Lucy, wait!”, Mina calls after her, but she pretends not to hear it. She doesn’t slow down, not even when she can hear energetic footsteps following closely behind her on the gravel path. Then, a hand grabs her wrist in a tight grip.
“Mina, let me go-”, she hisses, but she doesn’t get any further than that as she is interrupted by the insistent press of Mina’s lips on hers.
She doesn’t react, can’t react as her entire world shifts on its axis, and she’s still in a daze when Mina pulls back, an indeterminate amount of time later.
“Y-you’re mocking me.”, Lucy croaks. It’s the only possibility that makes sense. Mina knows, she’s found out and she’s chosen to tease her for her inverted, ill-fated, desperate love for her best friend.
“Oh, sweet Lucy”, Mina breathes, looking altogether stricken by the accusation. “Do you really think me so cruel?”
“I don’t know what to think!”, Lucy cries. She’s lost, everything she thought to be true proven false and vice versa, and she doesn’t know if she can trust her senses. She’s half convinced she’ll wake up in her bed any second now, alone, chasing the last remnants of another pleasurable dream.
“Then don’t think at all”, Mina murmurs, her hands tracing a feather-light path over Lucy’s arms, shoulders, and neck, before settling in Lucy’s hair, pulling her closer, slowly, giving Lucy ample time to turn away if she needed to.
She doesn’t, she just closes her eyes and lets herself be pulled in. Their lips meet again, softer this time, and the sensation still comes as a shock to Lucy. She gasps against Mina’s lips, and the breathy sound seems to spur her on even further, she starts moving against her with more urgency. It’s too much for Lucy’s fragile self-control, she can’t hold back anymore, and with a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper she kisses back with equal ardour, arms looping around Mina’s back and clenching in the fabric of her dress, hands pulling closer, closer, impossibly closer.
Lucy can’t say how much time has elapsed when they finally break apart, breathless, resting their foreheads against each other. Lucy doesn’t dare let go, thinks she might never be able to out of fear the second she does Mina might drift away.
“Lucy”, Mina sighs. “Darling Lucy, I’m so sorry for how blind I was for all this time. You must think me so self-absorbed, to not notice your affections for me, and to string you along the way I did, Lucy, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think…”
Lucy gently brushes a strand of dark hair that must have come loose while they were kissing behind Mina’s ear. Her cheeks already hurt from smiling, she can’t remember a time she’s ever been as content as this.
“Then don’t think at all”, she parrots Mina’s earlier quip with a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“I believe we’ve both been blind", Lucy whispers, before pulling Mina into a kiss once more.