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“Well, well, well! Isn’t this something?”
Mireille smiled at Kirika as she put down their bags and took in the view of the penthouse hotel room they’d be staying in until their apartment was repaired and renovated. It was a far cry from the modest double bed rooms they usually stayed in.
“I suppose it pays to be in the Soldats’ good graces, doesn’t it? This suite is larger than our entire apartment! And the whole thing is on Breffort’s dime, no less.”
Kirika nodded, scanning her surroundings for defensive positions and potential ambush locations. It was a habit she’d tried to break for some time; one she knew was unnatural but couldn’t ignore.
At least she was able to take in other details about the penthouse as she looked around, taking note of the amenities. A decently sized kitchen area. An open living room floor plan with large plexiglass windows looking out at the city. Two bathrooms. One bedroom.
One bed.
It wasn’t like sleeping in the same bed was anything out of the ordinary; that’s how they did it at home, after all. But when Mireille got them hotel rooms, she would always get a room with two beds. There wasn’t even a point to doing so given that they ended up pushing the beds together, but something about the initial distance demonstrated how Mireille would always pretend to be detached from Kirika. So if there was only one bed, could that mean that Mireille no longer needed that detachment. Could Kirika dare to hope that was the case?
“Oh, that Breffort…” Mireille sighed as her gaze also drifted to the bedroom. “Though I suppose I share the blame for not clarifying what ‘partner’ meant when we talked.”
Of course. It was just a misunderstanding. That fleeting hope vanished as Kirika cast her eyes downward, trying to hide her disappointment.
“Should we get a different room?”
Mireille thought about it for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I suppose it’s not the end of the world. No need to swap. Maybe it’ll make it feel more like home, hm?”
Kirika dared to look up at Mireille, feeling her heart flutter when she saw the other woman smiling at her. She smiled back without thinking and nodded in response.
“Mm-hm!”
“How’s the wound feeling?” Mireille asked, changing the subject as effortlessly as ever. Despite Kirika’s repeated offers to help, she’d insisted that she carry their luggage herself.
Kirika traced a finger along the bandages that covered her stomach, wincing as she felt the rapidly forming scar tissue. “It’s just a dull ache. I’m okay.”
“Well don’t poke at it, for God’s sake. That’s only going to make it worse.”
Mireille had fussed over her nonstop since they’d escaped the Manor, going from anxious pleas for her survival to simply worrying over her like a mother hen. While it had been touch and go when Kirika arrived at the hospital, she’d been in the clear for two weeks now. But Mireille persisted.
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”
“Good. Now sit down and relax for a few minutes while I get our things put away. And no touching any injuries, understand?”
“Yes, Mireille.”
“ Thank you.”
Despite her annoyed tone, the way Mireille hummed to herself while she unpacked made it clear to Kirika that she wasn’t actually upset with her. It was simply because she was still learning how to express the ways she cared about Kirika. If it was for that reason, Kirika was happy with whatever Mireille felt like doing to show it.
Besides, hadn’t Mireille already shown her how much she cared for her back at the Manor? She had dragged her back to the real world that day, both in the mental and literal sense of the word. After that, she’d nursed her back to health; Kirika could vaguely remember one of the doctors mentioning that Mireille never left her side until she was better. Not eating, not sleeping, just watching over her. Kirika knew. Even if Mireille herself didn’t tell her that was what happened, Kirika knew.
But words were still hard. For both of them. After all, it was Kirika who couldn’t write down what she meant to say back then.
And yet…that little bit of hope was slipping back into her mind again…
***
Mireille didn’t move when Kirika wrapped her arms around her and snuggled up against her under the covers. This was a part of their nighttime routine as well, of course. Kirika let out a quiet and contented sigh, relishing Mireille’s warmth against her skin. Even her wound ached less when she touched her like this. Her time at the manor had made her realize just how hard it was to sleep without that warmth there to comfort her.
She was about to doze off completely when Mireille spoke. She didn’t move to break free from Kirika’s embrace, nor did she move at all. She didn’t even open her eyes. But her quiet words still managed to carry a crushing weight.
“I found the letter you left for me, Kirika.”
Not even Mireille’s warmth could stop Kirika’s blood from running cold when she heard her speak. She had been such a fool to leave that there!
“D-did...did you read it?”
“Yes. I read it. All of it.”
“Mireille, I…” Kirika mumbled, starting to pull away. “I-I’m so sorry...I shouldn’t have...that was...I had no right to…”
Kirika froze in place as Mireille’s hands reached up to hold her own. What was happening?
“Kirika.”
“Mireille?”
“The letter said that you couldn’t express your feelings in writing.”
“That’s right...I...I’m sorry for-”
Mireille sighed and rolled over to face Kirika, opening her eyes without betraying any emotion in them. Kirika fought the urge to panic.
“So tell me now. Tell me in your own words what those feelings are.”
“I...what?”
“I want to hear you say it, Kirika,” Mireille mumbled. “Please.”
The word sounded strange coming from Mireille’s mouth. She wasn’t the kind of woman that made polite requests. To say it now was to acknowledge how much she needed to hear the truth. No matter how much it might scare her to speak openly, Kirika couldn’t possibly deny her that.
“Um...ah…” she fumbled, trying to form a coherent sentence. “I meant to say…”
“Yes?”
Kirika closed her eyes and turned off her brain. Whatever came out of her mouth from this point on would be entirely on autopilot.
“I...I’m...I’m in l-love with you.”
She said it. She really said it. What was she doing?
“I have been for a long time. I didn’t know what it was at first, and it’s...more complicated than that. Too complicated to write. All I know is that I’m filled with this feeling. My heart, and...all of me.”
She was dimly aware of the fact that she was crying, but couldn’t manage something as simple as wiping away her tears. But then...whose hand was on her face, if not her own?
“I’m sorry, Mireille. I’m so sorry.”
Mireille didn’t say a word. Somehow her silence was more painful than any angry rebuke could be. For a moment or two, the only sound was Kirika’s tiny whimpers. But when Mireille did finally respond, there wasn’t any anger in her voice.
“You dummy.”
With those whispered words, Mireille’s arms tightened around Kirika as she leaned forward to plant a light kiss on Kirika’s forehead.
“If you had just told me that beforehand…”
Kirika’s eyes shot open when Mireille’s lips met hers, her heart feeling like it was about to burst out of her chest. Why was Mireille doing this? Hadn’t she told herself that it was wrong to hope that something so wonderful might happen?
She clung to Mireille for dear life, closing her eyes again and allowing herself to savor the softness of the kiss. When Mireille did pull apart from her again, she had to suppress a whine of protest.
“You get it, right?” Mireille whispered in her ear.
Kirika could barely process what Mireille meant. But she got it. Somewhere past her nervousness and fear, she got it.
“I...yes, Mireille. I do.”
She so badly wished for Mireille to say those words back to her the way she’d always imagined it in her weaker moments, but something about this felt just right as it was. Words like this were probably difficult for Mireille to say as well.
“Good. That’s good. I’m glad we’ve settled that, then.”
Kirika couldn’t see Mireille’s face clearly in the darkness, but the way she could feel it warm up against her cheek was a sign that Mireille was actually blushing. That, combined with her slightly stilted tone, made Kirika realize that her partner might be more flustered by this situation than she’d imagined. It was...cute. Not a word that usually described Mireille, but true nonetheless.
“Thank you for letting me stay with you,” Kirika mumbled. “I was so afraid that you would send me away after what happened.”
“I don’t plan on sending you away ever again. The pain of losing you once almost completely overwhelmed me. I couldn’t take the pain of losing you a second time. That’s why I’m going to hold onto you.”
Unlike her earlier statements, it wasn’t typical for Mireille to say something like this. So open and unguarded. Maybe the way she’d begged Kirika to survive back then had chipped away at the shell around her heart, if only just a little bit.
Even if she can’t say the words I need to hear yet, Kirika thought to herself as she gripped Mireille even tighter, hearing her true feelings is enough. No, it’s even more than enough.
“Please keep holding onto me, Mireille. I want to be yours.”
“I want the same thing.”
Kirika was the one to initiate the kiss this time, hesitant as she brought her lips to Mireille’s as if she were asking for permission. It wasn’t until Mireille returned the gesture that she let her need take hold of her, kissing her deeply and savoring every last bit of the sensation. They’d kissed countless times before, but these kisses were so much more wonderful than they had been before; and make no mistake, she had always cherished every kiss Mireille gave her.
She let out a tiny gasp when Mireille’s hand began to trail slowly down her back, her intentions becoming clear. However, her movements were slower than normal. She was the hesitant one this time.
“Is this okay?” she whispered, her voice tinged with some kind of emotion Kirika couldn’t identify.
“Yes.”
What followed from that moment was wonderful beyond measure. Love expressed in its purest form. The first of many expressions to come.
***
Months had passed since the night of Kirika’s teary-eyed confession. The two of them had returned to the home they shared as partners in every sense of the word. The words Kirika needed to hear had been spoken over and over again, both in midnight embraces and early morning affection. There were times when both of them would still struggle with the belief that they deserved such happiness, but even those thoughts would fade over time.
Before they knew it, a year had passed. A year of peace and comfort with nothing but each other for company. Jobs were a thing of the past; the Soldats had seen to that, bolstering Mireille’s already ample savings as an extra measure to guarantee that Noir would stay out of their hair. Neither of them were complaining. After spending so much time being denied peace, both were more than happy to put down their weapons and truly live . Not as Noir, not as killers, not as anything but two women in love. Women who had finally, finally put a name to that love.
Kirika had been right: there was no way to express the depth of what they felt for each other in writing. But actions? Those would do just fine.