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In this house, there are traces of them.
Ina observes this with the eye of someone who wasn’t looking for it to begin with. She’s not looking for nostalgia in the pieces of their home. Every cornerstone of this house just feels like the everyday flow of her life. Birthday presents, gifts, thoughtless items purchased for no reason other than Gura being a terrible impulse buyer, a golden watch-
She is alone today. She doesn’t feel alone.
Amelia is at work. Ina could put on a coat and make her way down to the office to pay her a visit. She knows the detective would love that. They could chat for hours as Amelia works, the blonde never ushering her out or telling her she’s a bother. Even if Ina was being a nuisance she doubts Amelia would ever tell her such. She’s too kind for that, her detective.
Ina finds that love in the tea made for her when she wakes up. Her detective is gone, already off to work for the day far before either Gura or her had risen. Ina cradles her tea fondly. It’s just as she likes it. It’s still warm too. She enjoys it as she waits at the table for her shark to wake up.
When Gura does stumble in it’s with words that aren’t words that just end up sounding like a bunch of gibberish. She sways her way into the kitchen and starts digging into the fridge. Ina watches her in amusement. The bedhead looked cute on her shark.
“Good morning, Gura.” She greets.
Gura groans. She’s moving around in the kitchen with a slouch. Ina’s ears twitch as she picks up pots being moved around and the oven flicking on. Something delicious wafts by. She waits patiently as her shark emerges from her cave with two bowls in hand. She’s a little more awake as she takes her seat, sliding one of the bowls over to Ina.
“You need breakfast with that.” Gura mumbles, rubbing at her eyes, “You and Watson are gonna turn your blood into sweet tea if you keep this up.”
“It’s delicious,” Ina says, her heart falling over itself. Gura had made soup for her. The thoughtfulness of that has her leaning forward to kiss the top of her head, “Thank you.”
“Myeh.” Gura’s tail wags. She’s already shoveling food into her mouth, “I’m gonna go to the arcade with Calli. You wanna come with?”
“No, I have some work to do. Thank you though.”
“I’ll win you something.”
Ina smiles, “If they have one of those little sticky hand toys-”
Gura nearly chokes on her soup from laughing, “The ones that get stuck to the ceiling? Oh my god, I’ll get us as many as I can.”
“My hero.”
Gura flashes her a thumbs up while half her head is buried in her bowl. It makes Ina laugh, brightens her morning, and leaves her floating up until Gura leaves her with a kiss goodbye. She’s alone to herself for the time being. She does have work to do, a few graphic designs to tidy up, but nothing that requires immediate attention.
She holds her tea as she surveys the house. Home is a concept the voices that tether her mind don’t understand. Home is where the two other halves of her heart belong. She’s fine as long as she’s near them. Buildings and possessions have no value to her over that.
Well. She’d like to keep her tablet. Aside from that, she takes in their touches to the house.
She takes in the living room first. There’s a sofa and two armchairs, one of which is positioned by the window. There are a few potted plants growing around the window. The vines on one have grown long in its years and have had to be tied up around the window a few times. Makes it look adventurous, Amelia had said.
Ina touches the leaves. It’s weird to feel it, weird to know it’s out of its place. This was a plant taken from hundreds of years ago and tactlessly stuffed into a little painted pot. It was so Watson that it made Ina smile.
“I like it cause it’s pretty.” Amelia had said when prodded for answers. “It’s not like it’s an issue. Unless you're, like, horribly allergic to green things.”
“I’m not,” Ina said. “But don’t you think prehistoric plants would be sought after?”
“Ayy,” The time traveler shot her finger guns, “Our secret.”
The pots were all different colors. A red one had a little green scarf tied to it. The plant growing from it was yellow with brown freckles. She remembers that night. Amelia had been in bed with a fever. Gura was too anxious to wait around. Hovering wasn’t in her. She threw on her boots and went out into the rain. She came back with clumps of dirt in her hands.
“I found a little yellow thing,” Gura said. “It might be a flower.”
“Are you sure that’s not poisonous?” Ina had asked. She was picking leaves out of her shark's hair.
Gura experimentally sniffed it. She said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She cradled it protectively. “It reminds me of Ame. Can we keep it?”
Ina smiles at the memory. Her fingers brush the leaves fondly. Her fingers trail from the window to the bookshelf. The novels lined up all have a taste of their own. Mariner journals next to seafood dish recipes. There are a few journals. Ina grabs one out of curiosity. She thumbs through the pages.
“Oh.” She whispers as her gaze lands on the notes. Amelia’s handwriting is easy enough to recognize. Math equations and case questions dot along each page. Rough sketches that have the detective’s tasteful style leave Ina smiling. She pauses on a page that reads almost like a diary.
I don’t think I’ll put this away till tomorrow. Ina visited the office and dropped off a smoothie. We chatted for a bit and I kinda got distracted. I’m thinking about getting her a hat. Do her flaps get cold in the winter? Like, maybe? And if they do, do hats feel uncomfortable if they don’t have space? I’ll ask if normal hats do that. Maybe bug Gura to knit her a special one.
“You are too sweet for me.” Ina presses her lips to the page. “You have me wrapped around your finger, detective.”
Ina tenderly puts the book back where she found it. She traces her finger down the ridge, not willing to part with the memory just yet. Her gaze wanders to the rest of the room. The TV was left on. Amelia must have been watching it before she left. The volume was muted but it was a show about lobsters.
Oh Ame, Ina giggled. She sat down and turned on the volume. The ocean sound wraps around her. The buzz in her head is a hundred voices crooning in her ear, pray, pray, pray. She blinks her eyes and the light from the window is gone. There’s a blanket being wrapped around her.
“Hey.” Amelia’s voice is quiet in the dark. Ina can find her as she crouches before the couch. Blue eyes look up at her from her knees. Ina reaches a hand up to catch the smile there. Amelia takes her hand into her own and presses a kiss to her knuckle. “Hello, sleeping beauty.”
“What time is it?”
“Not late, I turned out the lights.” Amelia leans forward. She’s brushing her lips to Ina’s temple. “What are you doing here alone?”
“Gura went out, I had…” Ina grimaces, “Oh shoot. I was supposed to finish something but I…” She'd dozed off while going down memory lane. She felt her face heat up with embarrassment. She was practically an old lady.
“Gura texted me and said you weren’t answering.” Amelia smiles at her helplessly, “I got off work early to check on you. Have a nice nap?”
Ina feels warmth climbing up her neck. She mumbles, “Oh dear. You didn’t have to.”
“Ina.” Amelia huffs. She peppers a few kisses over her cheek. “C’mon. Want to cuddle in bed? I’m tired. Be my teddy bear.”
Ina drapes her arms around the detective’s neck. Amelia hums, her nose turning to her ear. Ina giggles as her breath tickles her ear. Amelia’s arms are winding under her and lifting her off the couch.
“Alright princess,” Amelia whispers, “off we go.”
“Mmm.” Ina leans her head against her shoulder. She lets herself be carried like that. It wasn't so bad to fall asleep in these arms, she thought. The embarrassment was worth it.
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Inbetween her dreams, she wakes up to a tangle of limbs. Gura had come home sometime in the night. She finds her in the hands wound tightly around her waist. She finds it in the snowy hair tickling her ear. Gura is nuzzling the crook of her shoulder and mumbling in her sleep. It makes her heart flutter.
Amelia is out cold. Even with the shortened shift, Ina can read the exhaustion on her face. The detective is curled up close to her, her hand fisted in Ina's shirt. One of her legs is poking out from the cover. Ina smiles fondly. The priestess reaches a thumb out to trace the lines under her eyes. Amelia exhales. The fragility of it wrenches at Ina, drives her closer until she can press a feathery kiss to her detective's nose.
"Goodnight." She whispers. It's another memory she holds close to her.
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