Chapter Text
Piano trickles across the floor and pitter patters against her ears. The speaker is clear, and she can hear the flicker and flow of every note. Curled in her palm is a glass, chilled, half full, and clinking with ice. Her other hand drums fingers on the countertop, and impatiently, Rudolf glances out the window and strains her ears to catch the smallest hint. When will she be home? Her phone still glows with the text she’d received thirty minutes before, assuring her that everything is fine and she’ll be on her way soon. Soon isn’t enough, she’s found.
Right, her contacts are still in. She remembers it belatedly, and the moment she does, the exhaustion of the day begins to set in. Ignoring her body’s reluctance—since she stopped racing, her stamina hasn’t been the same—she stands from the barstool beside the kitchen counter, tucks it back into place, and pads on socked feet to the bathroom. The apartment is dim, and the echo of piano begins to thin the further she goes. Her eyes catch on a silhouette in the dark leaping down from the bed, and then her girlfriend’s cat scurries over. He’s a loaf of fur and fluff, and he weaves and curls around her legs as if she’s the one who took him home two years ago from the local shelter. She reaches down to scratch him behind the ears, and he purrs and nuzzles her hand. If only Tachyon were as honest as her cat, she muses.
Click. Her ears leap up to attention, and she stands. She can hear the snap and clunk of the door from the other room, and without an ounce of hesitation, she springs into a walk that’s just a little too eager. A smile plays on the corner of her lips. It isn’t unusual for her work to end earlier than her girlfriend’s, but that just makes seeing her in the evening that much sweeter. The cat scampers right behind her.
She reaches the kitchen just in time to see Tachyon in the doorway, drenched and clutching a snapped umbrella in her hand. It drips and pools rainwater onto the welcome mat. Her hair is sticking to her face, and her eyes look even duller than usual. Rudolf can’t bear the affection that wells up inside her. Will her socks get damp? More than likely, but she takes the girl she loves into her arms and doesn’t mind it a bit, even as her warm, comfortable pajamas press against her girlfriend’s soaked clothing. She hears the umbrella drop and crinkle against the ground, while Tachyon’s hands snake up her back and wrap around her. She tucks her head in the crook of Rudolf’s shoulder. For all the clammy wet cloth and damp skin, her body is warm.
“Difficult day at work?” she murmurs into the fluff of her hair. It tickles her cheek, and she breathes in her scent, sweet and fragrant.
“I’d rather not talk about it.” Her tone is as usual, but the slight tremble in her voice gives her away. Tachyon’s fingers grasp loose at the warm fabric of her sleep shirt. Rudolf tilts her head enough to press her lips chaste into the slope of her neck. After a moment, they start to pull apart. The piano trickles slow, the rain pours just outside the half-ajar door, and the cat chirps and headbutts her leg. “Another treat, Luxon-kun? You’re a demanding little creature, aren’t you?” she says fondly. A gentle smile finds its way onto her face, and Tachyon bends down and crouches beside the cat to greet him.
Rudolf shuts the door, cutting off the chilly draft that’d been creeping in, and pads over to the kitchen cabinets. “The usual?” she quips, reaching for a mug. “You can go change. I’ll get the tea steeping so it’s ready for you.”
“Have I ever mentioned I love you?”
“Plenty. Now go dry off.”
While Tachyon walks on light feet and disappears into the bedroom, she turns on the faucet and fills the kettle. Once there’s enough water sloshing around inside, she sets it on the burner further back to sit. They keep all the tea and coffee in one cabinet, and she rifles through to find something suitably decaf. The last thing she needs is her girlfriend keeping her up all night. Work tomorrow will start early, and she isn’t a morning person to begin with. On their next aligning day off, though…
Rudolf smiles to herself, and neatly tears the packaging on a teabag. It falls with a plink into the mug, its string hanging off the side. The stove hums, and she hears the creak of a door and the patter of bare feet from behind her. “That was quick. The tea isn’t done yet, but–…” Her words are stifled to silence as she turns around, and Tachyon is standing in the middle of the room in a shirt draping over her thighs. The sleeves are a little bit long on her, and she lifts her arm to sniff it.
“Rudolf-kun, how do your clothes always smell so good?” She poses the question with a quizzical expression, and then folds her arms on the countertop and leans in. Her nose twitches. “Hmm, maybe it’s just your scent… Did you change your shampoo?”
Her face is warmer than it was before. She knows that, but speaks as nonchalantly as she can manage: “It’s the same as it was last week. I really wish you would ask me before you take my clothes.” Not like she minds, really, but it’s the principle of it. And moreover, seeing her like that is dangerous. Tachyon looks up at her with eyes twinkling dully, and her heart skips a beat. She takes her glass from earlier, now half-melted, and sips her watered down drink.
“Oh? Should I take it off, then?” Tachyon prods. Rudolf nearly chokes. Her glass clinks back on the counter, while her girlfriend’s face lights up with laughter. “Hahaha! You’re too easy to read.”
Frustration claws in the pit of her stomach, and she clasps the other girl’s chin in her fingers. “Tachyon…” They’re so close, she can barely feel her girlfriend’s breath ghosting her skin. All thoughts of tomorrow are forgotten in the moment. Can she pull her up onto the countertop? Can she pull her in tighter, into her arms to stay? Her eyes flutter shut, and she can just feel the gentle warmth of her lips…
…When a high pitched whistle and hiss screeches through the room. They’re wrenched apart by the sound, and the mood has been smothered. Right, the kettle! Rudolf snatches it off the burner and pours the hot water into the mug she’d set aside. It billows steam upward and turns darker and deeper from the teabag submerged inside. Tachyon has her elbow propped up and her head leaning on her palm, with a plainly bored look on her face. “What terrible timing.”
She slides the mug across the counter over to her. “Are you off Friday?”
“I am, yes? Why?”
Luxon hops onto the counter from an empty barstool, his tail swaying behind him. She scratches him under the chin, and his eyes squeeze shut. “I’m looking forward to it,” she says, without elaborating. Tachyon looks up at her with a wry smile.
Rippling from the speaker, the piano plinks its last few notes. They echo warm as bathwater in her ears, and she glances out the window to find the rain has thinned. Her girlfriend sips her tea beside her, and Rudolf could sigh. There’s nowhere else on earth she’d rather be.