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For the first time, Beau wakes up the morning after and she's not alone.
She's warm, is the first realization to push through the fog. Different from the hot tub, different from the heat charged between them last night, similar to the feel of Yasha's healing hands but so much more.
It takes a few minutes for the fear to creep in, and it's almost a relief when it does. She'd figured, right, you don't just take a leap like that and everything's perfect and amazing forever. That would be too good to be true, and Beau will choose the grit of reality a thousand times before infinite soft puffy clouds or whatever. No offense to clouds and good shit - the uncertainty grounds her a bit, is all.
One night of perfect and amazing is so much more than she thought she'd ever get, though, and there's definite comfort in that even as her chest squeezes at the thoughts swirling to life, the lights in her brain blinking on one by one. The gentle throb of Yasha's heartbeat under her chest fades in, and oh. Drifting off to that, after everything…it was almost the best part.
Wow, she's a sap. Feels less like a flaw every day though, might even be working for her.
Beau always wakes up earlier than Yasha, and sure enough when she carefully adjusts to look, her girlfriend - her girlfriend(!) - is still out. Hair spread across the pillow, sheets over her chest rising and falling, a smattering of perfect pink bruises over her shoulder and partway up her throat. They look like flowers amid her tattoo, and Beau doesn't have to look in the mirror to know she has twice as many and they're twice as dark. Hers just look like bruises, and that's the way Beau likes it.
She doesn't have to look in the mirror, full stop, and that's good because she's not sure she can right now. She wants more of this, that's not in question. It's just - when she does finally look in that mirror like this, she wants to see herself letting her guard down. She wants to see what she looks like all soft and content and in love.
She's feeling all of the smushy stuff and it's nice, but the thing is that somehow, the niceness of it is part of the problem. All that good is kind of a shock to her system - the emotional equivalent of a newborn colt staggering into the sun and going "This is cool, also what the fuck." Or something. Not exactly an expression she's interested in, is the point.
It's not guilt forming like a bubble over it all, at least not enough to really bother her. That part's like an echo, an overeager reflex she can shoo away and one day it won't bother showing up anymore. Not unworthiness, either. It's…doubt, maybe. Uncertainty. Not long ago, Beau had looked from the family that left her to the family she'd made and asked herself how it got any better from here. It couldn't, right? People liked her. They liked each other. It couldn't last, so why hang around and watch their affection for her and for each other deteriorate from this point?
That's the bitch. Yeah. Whatever you call that feeling, that's what's eating her.
Because something's changed, right. She and Yasha…they've elevated somehow. Looked at each other and gone "more of that, please." And gods, Beau meant every word of her commitment - meant it maybe more than she's ever meant anything - and wouldn't take back a second of it on a bet.
It's just odd to feel like she maybe wants to give Yasha everything when she's not actually certain what all is in there - what exactly she's offering. She's not done figuring herself out, that's for sure. In a lot of ways, it feels like she's only just gotten to the place where she's okay with what she might find. It's so cool and special and a million other clichés that Yasha is there too and wants to figure it out with her, but it's already a lot for Beau to try and get her own head around. Bringing someone else into it…well. Yasha can take whatever comes, but...like, she can take a million hits in a fight too. Doesn't mean Beau wants to be the one to stick her with them if she can help it. Whatever's left to uncover can't all be good.
She realizes she's headed out of problem-solving and into rumination when Yasha shifts a little in her sleep and the movement jostles her out of her head. Beau thinks for a moment that maybe she's saved by the internal circadian whatever thing that wakes people up around the same time. She's glad for the imminent distraction and watches Yasha's face hopefully, but the warm, strong arm over her hip just tightens a little as she gives a quiet sigh in her sleep.
If Beau wants to break out of the ruminating, looks like she has to make that call herself. She sighs.
It's for the best. Probably.
It would be so easy to move, too. Just a little. A nudge from light sleep to full waking, and all the plausible deniability is here. If Beau wakes Yasha, she won't have to keep sitting here stewing in old habits and fears.
But the stewing is comfortable and very good at feeling like the same thing as problem solving. Beau hates it, but she has to admit that she's not always the best at figuring out which is which. And that was fine when it was just her, but she's a we now. Whatever else that means, Beau's pretty sure that if she sinks too far in, it's not just her it'll affect.
Beau so badly does not want to bring Yasha down on this first beautiful morning together, and besides - the biggest bonus to waking up Yasha is getting to see Yasha. That makes the decision pretty simple.
Beau's thigh is warm where it rests between Yasha's, and she doesn't mind the excuse to snuggle closer and move it just a touch more than is strictly necessary. Yasha's breathing changes as Beau had known it would, and she tries to chase out the guilt of ruining Yasha's sleep as she stirs. The race is on - Beau scrambles to dive back into warmth and safety before those stained glass eyes make it all the way open and find hers.
Yasha's lips are a little dry and absolutely perfect in the soft smile they form as the same memories that trickled through Beau's waking thoughts push through the smudgy effects of Yasha's sleep. Beau recognizes the same quiet delight she'd first felt and yes, thank you, she will be committing that sight to memory.
"Hey," Yasha murmurs.
Yasha had tried to write her a poem once, had scratched it out in embarrassment until all her thoughts were lost in scribbles. Beau's not sure if she's delighted more by Yasha's intent or by her anxious desire for it to be good. It doesn't matter because the poem is here - Beau can see all of it threaded throughout that one soft greeting. The warmth in her voice is a confirmation that Beau maybe didn't need, but it fills her all the way up with light and melts away the edges of her thoughts anyway. "Hey."
Yasha takes a moment just to look over Beau's face, and it's nice to be able to anticipate the urge to hide and punt it away. She doesn't want to. They've spent so long locked in their own little spaces - it's magical to feel out in the open and safe like this.
Yasha looks up at the mirror then, and when she smiles…oh - there it is.
Round two, insecurity.
"You're really beautiful, Beau."
Gods, that's really the first thing she thinks to say, isn't it? No wind-up, no warning, just a greeting and a right hook of a casual compliment. Beau loves her so much it hurts, buries her nose in Yasha's neck and huffs a laugh. "Who, me?"
She could still look. There's time before Yasha gets suspicious. All Beau has to do is turn her head and meet Yasha's eyes in the mirror - it'll even be nice, she knows. She's not like, ashamed, or even worried. But she woke Yasha to give herself a handhold up and out of her thoughts, and that'll be for naught if she looks up now, so she just presses in closer at Yasha's quiet giggle and breathes contentedly.
A few seconds pass in which Beau knows she's been caught out, and then those calloused fingers start to drift up and down her spine. "Is everything alright?"
An invitation, a yes or no question, a doorway out if Beau needs it. She looks up, wanders from Yasha's jaw to her earrings and the pink bloom in between the two. "Yeah," she says sincerely. "It's perfect. You're perfect."
Yasha smiles, teasing. "I am very good, it's true." Beau knows she's being soothed and lets it happen, presses a kiss to Yasha's sorely tempting throat and feels it vibrate. "Do you want to talk?"
Beau leans up to kiss over the pink mark and delights in the way Yasha's skin prickles. "I mean…I want to do a few things, can't lie. But yeah, I guess...one of them should be talking." She settles back against Yasha and reaches to trace a path from hickie to light freckle to scar. "I dunno if I've got words though."
"That's okay. It doesn't have to be now." Yasha kisses the top of her head, and Beau will not cry at how small and safe she feels, she will not. "I'm just really glad you said yes."
She's so soft. How is someone with this many muscles so unbelievably soft? "Always say yes to you," Beau mumbles.
Yasha hums. "Well, I've quite enjoyed hearing it so far."
Beau sits up, a blush tugging at her cheeks that only deepens when Yasha grins unrepentantly. Beau can't help a return smile even as she sputters. "You - hang on, you're not supposed to deflect for me, what if I was planning to spill?"
Yasha's laughing now, the same giddy sound from last night that makes Beau's heart do some complicated shit to try and process. When she's good and ready, she takes a deep breath and reaches up to push a strand of Beau's hair to settle amid the rest, cheeks still pink with the echoes of laughter. "I would love if you did, but there's no rush. We already said the important things, yes?"
Beau leans her head into Yasha's hand. "Definitely."
"Then we figure out the rest as it comes, I think."
Beau kisses the soft underbelly of Yasha's forearm with something like reverence. "Yeah. But when you say stuff like that, it kinda. I dunno, feels easier. I don't feel like I have to."
Yasha cups her chin and pulls her in slowly, pausing just before their lips brush. "Good. I don't want a single thing you feel like you have to give, Beau."
Some weight lifts from Beau that she hadn't fully clocked til it got lighter. Expectation, she's realizing, has a lot of hiding places she's not found yet. Her chest feels weird in the absence of it, and there's no doubt it'll settle back inside as soon as she's not looking. That's alright. That just means she'll get to experience the sensation of it lifting again and again, until one day that lightness will be the norm instead.
But for now, Beau pulls her leg over Yasha's waist to straddle her and smiles. "Are you sure? Because I kind of feel like I have to give you another kiss like right now immediately."
Yasha manages to fit mischief and endless affection in the same smile. "Always the exception, hmm?"
"You know it."
Their kiss starts with precious little of the urgency of the night before - a slow and languorous exploration, an unhurried moment stolen from within this one greater stolen moment, and it takes its time building. Then Beau shifts her weight to lift a hand and slide it into Yasha's hair, and her hands slide in response from the outside of Beau's knees to rest on her ass and knead gently, and - well.
Yasha takes the opportunity when Beau groans against her mouth to slide her tongue between her teeth and Beau can't really be blamed for grinding down a little. She can't - because that would mean Yasha could be blamed for the sharp inhale of desire that causes Beau to tighten her thighs around Yasha's torso - it's around then that Beau stops being able to track who caused what and pulls back just enough to gasp, "So we're skipping breakfast then?"
Yasha looks affronted. "Oh, never." She twists her body sharply in a way Beau only barely keeps herself from automatically resisting and flips them over so that she's leering down at Beau, who is starting to feel like the tiniest, horniest little beetle under the force of it. "I don't think I'm interested in what the others are having, though, are you?"
Beau spares a glance at the mirror - divine ravaging is very much on the list of her favorite sights - before shaking her head furiously and shivering as Yasha starts a trail of kisses down her throat. "Nope. Nuh-uh. Could not care less."
Yasha makes a thoughtful noise against the hollow of her ear that makes Beau's brain go fuzzy. "So much enthusiasm…but I think I like hearing you say yes more."
Gods above, this woman is everything.
Beau wraps her arms around Yasha's back in a vice grip and swallows. "Prove it."