Chapter Text
She woke up in her bed, the blankets a tangled mess around her, wearing a blue shirt a few sizes too big. She was alone as usual. The other side of the mattress was still warm. Millie reached a hand out, gently rested it upon the still indented pillow and ran a thumb over the blue feather that lay there.
She fell asleep, lonely.
- - -
Her alarm sounded worse than usual, blaring way too loudly right next to her head. Millie fumbled with it, eyes still trying to focus on the stop button of her phone. When it was finally silenced, she covered her eyes with her arm, trying to enjoy the last few minutes of comforting darkness that she could spare.
But then her secondary alarm came on, and with a groan Millie got out of bed.
Her clothes were everywhere, bra dangling on a lamp and pants somehow halfway under the bed. She looked in the mirror, tried to pat down her bedhead, inspected her neck for hickeys. There was one on her collarbone that her shirt bared to the cool air of her room. It wasn’t her shirt anyways. Millie could wear something that fit and she would be fine. There was a bite mark on the spot just below her jawline. That wasn’t as fine.
Outside Millie’s apartment, the world still held on to the chilly night air, even as the sun threatened to warm everything up to the usual scorching hot temperatures of summer. Millie pulled her jacket tighter around herself, adjusted her sunglasses, smoothed down her blouse and skirt combo she had picked up off the floor, hoping they were clean. Her breath formed clouds as she walked, the sidewalks barren of any other people. That usually happened when you were up at seven a.m on a weekend, in a town that was mainly made up of college students. You take what sleep you could get.
The diner was open, artificial lights thankfully muted by Millie’s sunglasses. She patted herself on the back for that excellent decision.
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
Millie decided it was a horrible decision.
Enna was sitting in one of the booths, waving her over. She looked annoyingly put together, hair pulled back and wearing a comfy yellow cardigan that Millie was eighty percent sure had been stolen from her own closet. Millie slumped in the seat opposite, and stole a sip from Enna’s coffee.
“This is the pinnacle of today’s fashion, actually,” Millie finally retorted, when she had enough energy in her to string a few words together. “It’s called, ‘hungover college student.”
“Sounds mainstream,” Enna said, taking her cup back. “Two stars.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it at all,” Millie rested her head on the cool surface of the table, scrunched her eyes shut to try and relieve the pounding headache that threatened to swell up.
“You good bro?” Enna poked Millie’s head like she was a lump of roadkill on the street. Millie twitched, shifted to the side so that she could see Enna while still hunched over. “Dude, that’s a nice hickey.”
Millie bolted up straight, clapped her hand to her jaw to try and hide it, but Enna was already laughing to herself.
“Shut the fuck up,” Millie said, inwardly cheering when the waiter finally came over with a cup of coffee for her, thankful for the lull in conversation as Enna waited for him to leave.
“I didn’t say anything,” Enna grinned while resting her chin on her hand. “Who was it?”
“Your mom.”
Enna hummed, ignoring her. “Was it Selen’s sister again?”
Millie didn’t say anything, merely glared at Enna from over the rim of her coffee cup, already half drunk. That was answer enough.
“It was!” Enna crowed, slamming her hands down on the table and immediately apologizing when the waiter came by with their food. “Isn’t this the fourth time?” She asked a bit quieter, not even touching her plate as Millie started to eat.
“I’m going to curse you,” Millie threatened, tapping a finger on the table and making her fork spark. Enna ignored her, smile growing wider.
“Hit me up the next time you do it,” Enna wiggled her eyebrows, even as Millie flicked a piece of bacon at her. “I want a piece of that.”
“Ask her yourself, if she’d even want you,” Millie said, a little bit harsher than intended. She shoved another bite of pancake into her mouth, brooding.
Millie didn’t even know why Elira wanted her.
“I was joking,” Enna said after a moment of silence. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know why I said it like that,” Millie muttered, stabbing at a piece of potato with her fork. “Sorry.”
They didn’t talk much after that.
- - -
The door slammed shut behind her, sending shockwaves through Millie’s skull. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, cool darkness forming spirals and shapes behind her eyelids as she fumbled for the couch blindly. She collapsed on it, staring at the ceiling, at the coffee stain from the time Enna wanted to see if you could flip a lidded up over without it spilling. There was a dent on the wall from the time Elira slammed her into it, hands already down the front of Millie’s pants and her tongue in the witch’s mouth.
Millie squeezed her thighs together, buried her face between the couch cushions, tried to forget all the little details in her home that had been so irrevocably changed when Elira started coming over. She wondered what shampoo the dragon used, if her room was neat or messy, if she really did have a whole collection of button ups specifically designed to make Millie into a flustered mess. She wanted to go and make a home for herself in Elira, instead of the dragon clawing out a place in her.
A stale potato chip poked her forehead. Millie flicked it to the side, and lay there on the couch in some sort of mockery of sleep. Time passed by her in a daze, cars driving by her apartment, honking as people yelled. Someone above Millie stomped around, dropped something that shattered. Millie giggled at the muffled curses she heard, filing some away for later use.
It was dark out by then. Millie’s back ached as she got up, stumbled towards her barren cupboards to see if she had one more cup of instant noodles. She waited for the water to boil, tapping her fingers on the worn wood of her dining table. Her phone lay next to her hand, screen dark, but the message Millie had just sent was burned into her retinas, afterimages each time she blinked.
Millie: How r u?
It was simple. A late night greeting, like all friends do. Millie clenched her hands into fists, felt her nails cut into the skin of her palms. Her phone buzzed, lit up with a message.
Ewiwa <3: Good. You?
The response had Millie’s heart jumping into her throat. She collapsed into a chair, the microwave beeping behind her but she ignored it.
Millie: Better now that you texted me :)
Millie’s cheeks burned, hovering over the send button hesitantly. The microwave beeped again, more insistent this time. It made Millie jump, her hands spasming. The message sent. Millie stared at the blue bubble that was about to ruin her life. The little ‘read’ notification popped up underneath it. Millie turned off her phone. The wall looked like a nice target for Millie to throw it at.
Ewiwa <3 sent a picture
She stared at the little notification banner, long enough that the phone shut off again. Robotically, she stood, went to the microwave and pulled out her cup of now lukewarm noodles. Millie put it on the table and did not begin to eat. Millie then picked up her phone. She almost dropped it when she saw the picture.
Elira had taken a selfie of herself; flipping Millie off with that smug smile of hers. She was lying on her bed, apparently having been getting ready for sleep, her hair strewn about on her pillow. Elira’s shirt had been rucked up, bright blue fabric pushed up to reveal stone cut abs, the barest glimpse of her sky blue happy trail. Millie almost knocked her cup over in her haste to respond.
Millie deemed her hair too messy, and her shirt was some tattered shapeless thing that would serve better as a washrag. It was the first item of clothing Elira had left over. It was Millie’s favorite. Millie bit the bullet, snapping a quick photo of herself and sending it, sliding her phone to the opposite end of the table where she couldn’t reach. She started to eat, wolfing her noodles down and repressing the urge to pick up her phone again when it vibrated.
Millie threw the cup away, picked up her phone and marched off to her room. The door slammed shut behind her, hinges squealing in protest against its harsh treatment. She collapsed on her bed, opening her phone like a giddy school girl receiving a text from her crush, a goofy smile on her face.
Ewiwa <3: sheeeesh
Ewiwa <3: damn gurl can’t wait to see you tomorrow ;)
A yelp could be heard from the room, Millie rolling over and curling up on her side, holding her nose. She had dropped her phone on her face, but she still had the same giddy smile, holding her phone close to her chest.
The date had been set a few days prior already, not officially, merely by the strange schedule they had been running on. Meet on Monday and Thursday nights at the club. If you weren’t there by seven, then you could leave or go with someone else. Millie always left. She wondered what Elira did on the days she couldn’t make it.
It still was nice to have it acknowledged; their meetings. Clandestine moments in the night where Elira would be passed out in Millie’s bed, sweaty and covered in marks, and Millie could lie to herself and say that they would wake up together in the morning. She would make Elira breakfast that would be hopefully edible, but the dragon would eat it either way. Elira would kiss her, without the lust that usually filled her kisses, and then leave for work. And she would come back.
Millie told herself that lie at night, because then there was the hope that she could dream of it.
Millie: Goodnight
A moment.
Ewiwa <3: Good night baby
Millie fell asleep in an empty bed, for the hundredth night in a row, with her phone in her hand.
- - -
It had been months ago when this started, but Millie had known Elira longer than that. Long enough to know how the dragon liked her coffees and that she would be grumpy in the mornings without it. Long enough for their sleepovers to turn into Millie watching Elira rant about something or other with her breath smelling of sweet soda, and wanting to kiss her silly. Millie didn’t know how long she had been like this, only that it was long enough for it to hurt.
They had been at a club, dark and packed. It could have been anyone else. Millie found herself pinned up against the wall, Elira’s tongue on her neck.
“Hi,” She said breathlessly when Elira finally pulled back. Millie thought she was dreaming, she blamed the alcohol.
“Hey,” Elira said back, her hand on the small of Millie’s back, dangerously low. “Come here often?”
“No, I usually don’t orgasm in public,” Millie said automatically, her filter already horrendous before adding in drinks.
Elira giggled, leaned down and nuzzled into the crook of her neck, breathed in sweat and alcohol, the smell of someone else. She growled, grip tightening on Millie’s hips. Millie let out a desperate whimper, tilting her head to the side to give Elira access.
“Your place or mine?” Elira asked, mouthing at Millie’s neck, leaving a few hickeys already. Millie’s knees were weak, her only support was her arms around Elira’s shoulders.
“Mine,” Millie gasped out.
Neither of them drove, calling over an Uber and making out in the backseat, Elira’s hands on Millie’s body the whole time. When Millie woke up the next morning and remembered everything, she hoped they had tipped extra.
They raced up the stairs, giggling. Elira didn’t let go of her hand for one second, even when she was fumbling with her keys, and really needed her other hand.
“Elira, let go,” Millie pouted, trying to tug her hand away. Elira warbled, pulling back. She was strong, and tipsy, and the two made a combination where she tugged a little too hard. Millie stumbled forward, almost falling if it weren’t for Elira awkwardly catching her as well as an elbow to the face.
“Shit sorry!” Millie said when she finally regained her footing, Elira letting her grip onto her elbows for support.
Millie slid her hands up Elira’s biceps, to her shoulders, cupping Elira’s cheeks and making her lean down so that she could see the injury. The dragon obeyed, eyes fluttering shut as Millie gently traced her cheekbones, her chin, her sharp jawline and lips. Millie gently smoothed Elira’s hair back and that made Elira’s eyes open again. One was bright blue, the other devoid of color, a milky white pearl. Millie stared. Elira tried to pull away but Millie stopped her. She stood on tiptoe and pressed a gentle kiss to each closed lid, then to her cheeks.
Millie waited with bated breath, Elira’s mismatched eyes flicking up and down from her lips to her wanting stare. The door creaked open when she finally found the key, Elira pushing her against the wall as it slammed shut behind them. She had finally kissed Elira just not the way she really wanted to.
“Down the hallway, second door on the right?” Elira said, breathing heavily, hands still cupping Millie’s cheeks, lips red and swollen. Millie loved her like this, selfish and honest.
Millie nodded, swallowing dryly before Elira kissed her again. The dragon grinned against her lips, using tongue and teeth. She yelped into the dragon’s mouth when she was suddenly lifted up, wrapping her legs around Elira’s waist on instinct. Elira stumbled down the hallway, fumbling with the bedroom doorknob. Millie swooned at the thought of being supported with only one hand.
Elira dropped Millie on the bed, the witch bouncing with a giggle before Elira pounced on her again. She gripped Millie’s wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand, biceps straining against her white tee. Millie’s eyes were at half mast, lips bitten to hell by herself and by Elira. Elira’s hands slithered underneath her shirt, up her chest. She was everywhere, like light; unstoppable and mighty.
“How do you want me?” Elira asked, pulling away. She straddled Millie’s waist, looking down at Millie with an expression shrouded by shadow in the low room.
“I don’t care,” Millie said hoarsely, hands scrabbling uselessly at Elira’s hips, trying to pull her back down to her mouth. “Anywhere.”
And she didn’t remember much after that.