Work Text:
they said the end is coming
everyone’s up to something
i find myself running home to your sweet nothings
Morning always comes too soon. The sun rises, breathing in the day too early for anybody to even be around to witness it. Anybody but Sol, who had always found herself awake earlier than everybody else. It had driven her parents crazy when she was young, before she had learned to stay quiet. Back when she was thoughtless in the way she padded slowly into the kitchen to make herself coffee, uncaring of the doors she had forgotten to close.
One would think that the reprimanding her parents had given her over the years would have bent her habits, but it never did. Dawn was Sol’s favourite place, her favourite drink was coffee, her favourite colour was orange, all of which meet at the earliest break of daylight. And her favourite person was Jiwan, so it went without saying that every morning when she woke she crept out of bed with the upmost diligence and closed every door in the house behind her as quiet and unnoticed as humanly possible.
There was once a time that Sol had longed for a reality where she could choose who she fell in love with. A reality less abrasive, less commanding, where she could live easily. A reality where she would have nothing to confess, and nothing to beg. There was once a time that Sol did not believe in time ending suffering.
The universe will be heard, and it does not have to kick and scream to be. Sol knows this. On this day, like many other days she heard it in the orange of the sunrise streaming into her and Jiwan’s apartment. On this day the heard that the world can be kind and it can be gentle, that the darkness will drag itself for as long as it pleases, but it cannot stop the rising sun from banishing its shadows back to their confines.
On this day she heard that longing is worthless when there is nothing to long for that would be of use to her anymore. Nobody to choose except what she had already in her grasp.
Jiwan didn’t wake up until she was halfway through making herself breakfast. An arm snaked it’s way around her waist, promptly followed by a head rested gently on her shoulder. It was a slightly inconvenient position for someone who was in the middle of cooking, but it was the last thing on her mind.
“Good morning, I thought you’d never wake up.” Sol teased, smiling to herself.
Jiwan frowned, “I was early today!” She exclaimed quietly in response.
“I know,” Sol relented. “I’m making bacon, do you want some?”
Jiwan hummed to herself in thought. “No thanks. I’ll make something later I think.”
Sol nodded. “Do you want some tea then?”
Jiwan agreed easily, pulling herself off of Sol slowly, exhausted.
“Alright. Watch the stove for a minute, please?”
Pulling herself up to sit on top of the kitchen counter next to the stove, Jiwan fought her yawn and watched the pan cooking the bacon while Sol turned on the kettle and pulled out a cup and teabag. Hastily, she made her way back to the stove while the kettle boiled.
A part of Jiwan would never understand why her and Sol worked so well. Dawn and dusk, coffee and tea, orange and blue, every part of them opposites. This part of Jiwan thought cynically that they should be tearing at the seams from all of this division.
But the other part of her knew that people were not coats sewed of flimsy fabric, waiting to be caught on something sharp and tear beyond repair. The other part of her thought that maybe people were more like puzzles. Where dawn broke there was a dusk shaped hole that needed to be filled somehow.
Once the kettle was finished boiling, Sol rushed back over and began to make her tea.
So much energy thought Jiwan. She was unable to understand how anyone could be so alert so early in the morning. It was all just so interesting. So captivating.
There was no shortage of things for Jiwan to notice. The way Sol’s hair fell around her shoulders so evenly, the way she engaged so deeply with everything she chose to do, the way she worked quickly and efficiently through almost every task despite there never being any rush. Sol stepped in front of her and handed her the mug, which she placed to her side, grasping Sol’s shoulders instead, pulling her in closer.
“Thank you.” Jiwan said, sincerely.
Sol looked at her as if it was not necessary to thank her for anything. As if she’d done enough for her by simply existing alongside her, and everything she did for her was simply repayment for her labour. “Of course.”
Jiwan felt like she couldn’t breathe. As she stared at the woman in front of her the only thought she could think was how. How did I ever live without this? How can anybody bear to live without this? She leant down and captured their lips together, moving her hand to cup her face.
Sol rested her hands on either side of Jiwan’s waist, leaning closer and closer to her until it was physically impossible to lean anymore. They moved slowly and in sync with one another, forgetting the world outside as quickly as they would remember it once the moment died. And Sol’s head spun. It was embarrassing, how in love she was, how easily she forgot the embarrassment in favour of this.
Sol burned the bacon.
So when dusk fell and the sun began to set on itself, Jiwan sat alone at the dining table, glass of water in hand. She closed every door and reminded herself to stay as silent as she could, keep as many lights off as she could as if she even needed a reminder. As if it wasn’t all unconscious practice at this point.
When she finally grew tired and crept to join her girlfriend in bed, she was welcomed into warmth and into safety. There was nothing to say, nothing either would want to say. Nothing that hadn’t already made itself known.
outside they’re push and shoving
you’re in the kitchen humming
all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing