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Summary
She waited for it, the pit in her stomach to roil from her sin of tracing the line of Ava’s jaw with her eyes, it always came. Early mornings, when pink and orange filtered through the corners of their makeshift window curtains, the sunrise glinting off a bit of drool on the corner of Ava’s lip that made her ache; drops of sweat lining her temples after an afternoon training session; all of her smiles and all of her soft, second-nature touches that would send Beatrice to her knees, door locked behind her in their tiny, leaking bathroom, begging for reprieve or repentance…
But this time, it never came.
or moments during Switzerland and after - falling in love, falling from 13 stories, falling through the ark, falling again
Series
- Part 1 of We Met on the Möbius