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They’re lounging on the couch watching a movie when Pearl starts playing with her hair, running her fingers through smooth silvery locks. They catch on occasional tangles, but she works through them with a foreign tenderness Amethyst hasn’t felt in years.
Pearl hums along to the credits as her fingernails lightly graze skin. Amethyst can’t help but shiver at the touch.
“Good?” Pearl whispers.
“Mhm.”
Her fingers begin working on a braid, skillfully threading unruly strands up and over each other. All the while, Amethyst tries to ignore the burning in her cheeks.
Pearl had been the first and last to touch her hair like this, back when everything was simple and new. It was short then, but she would track her fingers along her scalp and hum an old human lullaby until Amethyst dozed in her lap. Back then, the quartz hadn’t quite gotten used to sleeping yet, so she would pretend like humans would do by slowing her breathing and relaxing her muscles. That way, Pearl was less likely to move and disrupt the moment reserved for just the two of them.
And each time, Pearl would never fall for her ruse. But still, she stayed.
To Amethyst, home was rock and grit under her palms and empty holes in the distance. But it was also a faint smell of ash after training and a soft caress on her skin—a tender reassurance here and there that she was worth all this and more.
“There, all done.” Pearl rests her hands on Amethyst’s shoulders, absentmindedly running a thumb along the crook of her neck.
Amethyst tilts her head this way and that to test out the weight before swinging it in front to run her fingers along the grooves. “Feels weird.”
“Good weird?”
“Mhm.” Just like when it was short, it leaves her neck exposed to cool air… and warm breath whenever Pearl speaks. She’s glad the other gem can’t see her face from this angle.
“You never let me hold you anymore.” A soft puff of air ruffles the tiny strands at the base of her hair.
Amethyst bites her lip. “I didn’t think you’d want to.”
“Come here.”
Slender hands guide the small gem backward until she’s sitting in her lap, back firmly pressed against chest. The same hands snake their way around Amethyst’s waist and hold her secure.
Pearl rests her chin on her shoulder, sighing in her ear. “I miss this.”
“Me too.”
“Why did we stop?”
So many reasons, Amethyst wants to say. Rose left. We were in mourning. We took it out on each other.
But that’s all in the past. “Just busy, I guess.”
“Indeed,” hums Pearl. “Raising Steven, bubbling corrupted gems, hiding from Homeworld… But now, we can appreciate the quiet.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t miss cleaning up after his mess.”
Pearl nudges her head affectionately with her own. Her gem comes in contact with Amethyst’s burning cheek. “I’ve still got your messes to clean up, after all.”
“Hah! Truth.”
In actuality, she’s been cleaning up after herself more often, if only to prevent Pearl from stressing out over it.
The credits fade to black and then static, so Amethyst reaches for the remote to shut off the TV. As she settles back, Pearl nuzzles into her neck. “You feel taller.”
“Hmm?”
“That day we found you in the Kindergarten, Rose could hold you in one hand.” She chuckles.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Amethyst retorts. “I’m a pipsqueak.”
“But you were so full of energy. So curious and excited about the smallest things.” Then, softer, almost a whisper. “I was jealous.”
Amethyst cranes her neck to try and peak a look, but Pearl buries her expression into her shoulder. “That should be my line.”
Pearl continues, slightly muffled against the fabric, “You were so passionate and carefree. So detached from the war that shook the galaxy.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t assume. I know you had your own issues to deal with.”
“True. But I was just glad to meet you.” She woke alone… lived alone for hundreds of years. It was all she knew for the longest time. That is, until a hand was extended—and she took a leap of faith. “Didn’t know what I was missing until I found it.”
There’s a sharp inhale by her ear.
Amethyst sputters, “I mean… to meet you, Rose, and Garnet. Of course.”
A chuckle. “I know what you mean.”
Pearl’s mouth curving into a smile on her neck sends warm, fluttering butterflies to her stomach. Amethyst swallows her nerves to sink further into the embrace and cover the taller gem’s hands with her own, stroking the soft skin with her thumb. If they were human, she would probably find calluses instead—battle-hardened over millennia.
“But now,” says Pearl, “your shoulders feel broader. More confident.”
It’s ironic, Amethyst thinks, when Pearl has been following the same path these past few years. “I’m not the only one.”
A hum of assent. “We’re quite different now, wouldn’t you say?”
Amethyst was far from the same gem projecting her grief on anyone who dared step close enough, while Pearl had found a reason for living besides for someone else. Yet, the way Pearl fingers play with the strands coming loose from her braid makes her think… “Some things haven’t changed.”
“What’s that?”
“This,” says Amethyst. Then softer, “Us.” She winds her fingers between Pearl’s, filling the spaces between. They’re both far from perfect, but that’s never stopped them from fitting their broken pieces together like a mosaic made from sharp edges dulled by the ebbing tide of time.
They’ve always been complete on their own, but together, they’re more colorful and complex and different than anything they would have created alone.
So, Amethyst takes a leap of faith. “I love you.”
And just like that, without hesitation, there’s a kiss on her shoulder that’s so tender and loving and so unlike the Pearl from ten years ago, that Amethyst’s voice gets trapped in her throat, and her chest shudders.
“I love you, too,” comes the reply.
It’s been so long since she’s allowed herself to feel this vulnerable in someone else’s hands; so many years denying what’s been growing between them. Amethyst’s eyes slide shut in the face of rising emotions, but a traitorous tear still tracks its way down her cheek and drips onto their hands.
“Shh,” whispers Pearl, washing over her like the ocean waves just outside the beach house. Soft caresses find their way along her hair again, grazing the shell of her ear. “It’s okay.”
Amethyst lets her breathing slow and muscles relax, knowing that Pearl would never leave.
“I’ve got you.”