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Between the wildfire in Amira‘s dark eyes and the softness of her cheeks, one of Eve‘s favourite memories was the first time she fell in love so hard it turned her stomach upside down in the best way possible. Back when she‘d been just 17, when her greatest concern had been approaching A-levels and the way she‘d forget which keys to press on her piano when Amira killed a high note the others in the choir could barely manage.
For an entire honey-tinged summer, every rehearsal of their choir had become a game to sneak away as often as possible to hide in the stuffy rooms the instruments were stored in and share kisses that felt like falling from the highest peak of a roller coaster. In the low light, Amira would grin at her so wide that the skin around her eyes crinkled, and it had made Eve's heart skip more beats than she‘d thought were healthy.
They‘d emerge from their hiding places with a blush high on their cheekbones and grinning wildly at each other as though they had succeeded to pull off the most impossible heist. If anybody found their behaviour questionable, they stayed silent, and the two of them had been dead sure they were the most secretive couple to ever exist.
Eve Moneypenny in retrospect only smiled mildly at her younger self, fully aware of how impossible it must have been to orchestrate her when all she could stare at were Amira's curls forming a halo around her head.
They lost each other somewhere along the way, but Eve hoped Amira was doing as good as she felt she herself was doing, and that she knew that whenever Eve caught a hint of Amira's cheap floral perfume, her heart still sung of a honey-tinged summer.