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“‘I have remembered beauty in the night, against black silences I waked to see,” Fiona read, her eyes sparkling as they moved from word to word, “a shower of sunlight over Italy and green Ravello dreaming on her height-”
“Mm… Gilman.” The enchantress mumbled, her voice soft. She was barely awake, the priestess assumed. “Who wrote this one?”
Patricia and Fiona had been spending the night together more and more frequently. Patricia had once said the other girl’s company caused her to fall asleep far quicker than if she was by herself; and thus, when it reached the late hours of the night, and the manor was completely silent, Fiona found her companion sneaking into her room whenever she couldn’t sleep.
Fiona wasn’t amazing at falling asleep either— though, she imagined her reasons were different than Patricia’s (she wasn’t quite sure. Patricia had a habit of keeping things to herself). An avid lover of literature, she stayed up to read as much as possible before the sun could rise and her day could start. Nighttime was safe. It was peaceful, and soothing, and she could enjoy herself without judgement from others.
That might’ve been why she hesitated the first time Patricia had asked to join her. The idea of someone intruding on her midnight reading sounded terrifying. She wasn’t looking to get made fun of.
Patricia, however, had no intentions of doing that—if anything, she did the opposite. She frequently asked Fiona about what she was reading, and listened to her ramble on about her favorite authors and poets. It was refreshing.
“Sara Teasdale. I think I’ve shown you a few of her poems before.” Fiona answered, her eyes moving from the paper to Patricia. The girl was staring up at the ceiling drowsily.
“And… she was the one who wrote the sonnets?”
“You remember.” Fiona said, a smile forming on her face. It was a small thing that she knew. It didn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat.
The more likely reason why Fiona hesitated to stay with Patricia was that she was so, so in love with her. Staying in a room, sleeping in a bed with someone she adored more than anything else; it could only go badly.
And yet, it didn’t. Patricia had assured her long ago that the feelings were mutual (it took 10 minutes of her telling Fiona that she wasn’t pulling a prank for her to believe it). The two were together, albeit unofficially.
Fiona stared lovingly at the girl lying next to her, taking in every feature. She lacked the words to describe her. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Fiona to lose her train of thought when thinking about the other, but could anyone really blame her? She had been lucky enough to end up with a girl whose beauty topped any sunset, any ocean, any painting. Hell, Patricia herself was a work of art. She was ethereal.
Fiona was so, so in love with her. Every single little thing about her. It was impossible to describe her admiration for the enchantress in words.
Her own words, at least. It’s why she had recommended Teasdale to Patricia so many times. It was why she had left pages of love poems written by great authors in her room for her to find. It was her way of expressing love when physical affection wasn’t enough.
“She reminds me too much of you for me to forget.” Patricia said.
“In what way? Am I amazing with words, too?” She joked, her smile widening.
“You are in love with another woman,” Patricia said, laughing under her breath. Fiona’s face flushed almost immediately, which only caused the other girl to chuckle more.
“I tease, I tease.” She said, turning on her side to face her partner. Fiona found her face turning an even brighter shade of red when she noticed her partner’s smile. Bright. Calming. She swore her heart melted right in that moment.
“With the way you make me act, I’d swear you’re the poet here.” Fiona said, covering her face with her hands.
Patricia scoffed, shaking her head. “I possess only a fraction of your knowledge on these things.”
The two sat in silence until Fiona felt a hand on her wrist, pulling it away. When she opened her eyes, she found Patricia staring at her.
She moved her other hand away from her face to look at Patricia. Though she knew she had no reason to worry, her mind began to race. Surely she couldn’t have messed up in such a small frame of time.
“...Is something wrong, Patricia?”
“May I kiss you?”
Fiona felt her cheeks burn even more. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t kissed before—that was one of the first things Fiona had asked to do when they got together—but kissing Patricia caused her brain to melt. She would lose her focus almost instantly if Patricia even left a peck on her cheek. She wondered how the other couples in the manor could do it so casually.
“Oh… Yes. Yes, of course you can kiss me.” She managed to get out, stumbling on her words. Patricia nodded and sat up, then went in to kiss the priestess.
Fiona swore she saw stars every time she kissed the other. She wouldn’t be surprised if she opened her eyes after a kiss and found herself in space. Pure euphoria came from locking lips with the other girl. Her worries washed away, her shoulders dropped, her mind would clear. It was just like what they described in books. Better, even.
Being with Patricia made her understand what the poems talked about. The love she held for her was so unbearably strong that she felt her heart would rip at the seams every time she thought of her.
She understood why so many poets longed for this feeling. Why so many cried and sobbed and begged for Death to give their love back when they had lost them. It made sense with Patricia.
She never wanted to leave her side.
Patricia pulled away, laughing at Fiona’s starstruck expression once she opened her eyes.
“The poem. Can you finish reading it?” Patricia asked, laying back down. Fiona nodded quickly.
It was one of her favorite poems. It reminded her so much of Patricia. Of everything she meant to the priestess.
“But all remembered beauty is no more than a vague prelude to the thought of you.”
Patricia watched as Fiona read the final lines of the poem to her.
“You are the rarest soul I ever knew, lover of beauty, knightliest and best.”
Fiona smiled as Patricia dozed off.
“My thoughts seek you as waves that seek the shore,”
Fiona turned off the lights as she read the last line.
“And when I think of you, I am at rest.”