Chapter Text
It was dark, only candles lighting up the house Agatha grew up in. All she saw was the fury in her mother's eyes.
Her mother held her by the throat, cutting off her oxygen. Long nails were digging into her skin. Scratching deep into the layers of it.
It suddenly became harder to breathe as her mother tightened her grip around her throat. Her mind was clouded with fear. The fear for her own life. All she knew in that moment was that she desperately wanted to be in Rio's safe arms, for Rio to protect her from her mother's wrath.
„You are an abomination!“ Evanora spat at her daughter. She was convinced her daughter was born evil and had told her so every chance she had.
She let go of Agatha, the seventeen-year-old girl, crying and gasping for air. She walked away, leaving Agatha.
Agatha rubbed her throat, and while she was crying, she could still feel her mother's hand around her throat, her nails digging into her skin.
She flinched when she rubbed over the scratches on her throat. She removed her hand from her fresh wounds, only to be greeted by her own blood on her fingers.
Small trails of blood covered the sides of her neck, where her mother's nails cut into her skin.
Agatha walked into the bathroom as quietly as she could, careful not to make any noise that could disrupt her mother.
She looked into the mirror, seeing her disheveled self, blood on her hands and her throat, tears staining her red cheeks. Her hair was messy, and her dress had small drops of blood on it. Her blue eyes were red from the crying.
She took a small cloth and cleaned the blood on her neck. Her neck was already starting to bruise. She washed her hands, removing the signs of blood, before going back to her room.
A small room, with a hard, uncomfortable bed, the floor creaking, and the wall just plain stone covered by some of the poems Rio had gifted her, but most of them were stashed under her pillow. It felt more like a prison than the room of a teenage girl. Maybe it was, since her mother treated her more like a prisoner than her own child. Being around her own mother was torture for her.
Evanora would be angry at Agatha for the smallest of things and often without a reason at all. This was the reason why Agatha would always feel like walking on eggshells, scared of her mother's next move. Would she be simply ignored or be met with her mother's violent fury, or would she be forbidden from eating any food that she had to prepare?
Often Evanora would just remind her that she is evil and that she regrets giving birth to her.
Sometimes this was even worse than the violence, as her physical wounds would heal, but she would never forget how her mother told her that she hates her or the look of pure hatred in her eyes whenever she looked at her only daughter.
Agatha waited until she could hear her mother go to bed so she could finally leave this house. This prison.
She put on a black cloak, brought a lantern with her, and lit the candle before she climbed out the window to escape from this nightmare, even if it was just for a few hours.
She walked through the streets, the wind playing with her hair as she rushed to her girlfriend's house.
The full moon was bright on the sky, offering Agatha a bit of light to guide her through the cold night. The stars above her formed beautiful constellations.
She was glad that Rio didn’t live far away and that she could always visit her for an escape from life.
It wasn’t long before she reached the house Rio and her father lived in. She knocked on the door, and while she rationally knew that someone would open it, she was still scared that it wouldn’t happen and that she would have gone back to her haunted house.
Rio always was a light sleeper, which is why she woke up when someone knocked on the door shortly after midnight.
She knew who it was; nobody but Agatha would come visit her, especially at this time of night. Agatha always looked for comfort in her, and Rio wasn’t mad about it. She was glad that Agatha trusted her with all of this, with all the trauma.
She cared about Agatha so much; far more than anyone else did in the world, which is why she was so gentle with her.
Perhaps caring wasn’t the right word; she loved Agatha with every fiber of her immortal being; she wanted to protect her from all that’s evil.
Rio opened the door, seeing her disheveled girlfriend in front of her.
The candle gave them just enough light to see each other's faces. Immediately Rio knew that she had been crying. She knew Agatha better than her own self and could read her like an open book.
Rio hugged the other witch, trying to give her any comfort at all. She needed it; she needed someone to care for her.
Agatha put her arms around her girlfriend, craving her touch. She was drowning in the arms of Rio.
„I’ve missed you.“ Rio said, her voice breathy.
„I missed you, too.“ Agatha replied, her voice hoarse.
They let go of one another, just looking into the others eyes, content to do nothing else.
Rio gently took Agatha’s hand; it was so soft in hers. She squeezed her hand, trying to comfort her, knowing that something horrible must have happened.
„Come in.“ Rio said, her voice tender as she led Agatha into the house and into the kitchen. Rio always insisted on cooking for more than her and her dad, in case Agatha would come over. She would always have an extra portion of food for Agatha. She knew she barely got to eat at her own home—house, not home. Agatha’s home was here with Rio.
Rio grabbed a plate with a purple flower pattern on it from one of the counters and put the leftovers on it, as Agatha just stared at her.
How did she always know what she needed? Agatha hadn’t eaten since the day before, and she felt like she was starving, and here Rio was preparing a plate of food for her.
Words couldn’t describe how much she loved her, the gentleness of her, or how she always came to comfort her.
She remembered the time when Rio hadn’t heard from her for a few days because her mother had grounded her and forbid her from sending letters to anyone, and two days after her grounding started, Rio was throwing small rocks at her windows.
She just came to check on her, scared of what Evanora could have done to her. She knew what that monster of a mother was cabable of.
Rio was brewing tea for Agatha in a matching purple mug; the night was cold, and Agatha must be freezing after all.
Rio gave Agatha the plate; she carried the mug while they both went upstairs to Rio's room.
Her room was painted green, with a soft, comfortable bed next to the window, love letters and poetry written by Agatha hanging on one of the walls, and dried flowers Agatha gifted her in perfect vases throughout the room. Some of the flowers were even hanging upside down on the wall.
Inside the room, Agatha removed the cloak and folded it in her lap after sitting down on Rios bed. Her throat is now perfectly visible to Rio, who saw red. She knew it was Evanora who did this, and her hatred for the older woman grew. She wished she could just kill her so that she would never be able to harm Agatha again.
„What happened?“ Rio asked gently, sitting across from Agatha. No matter how angry she was at Evanora, no matter how much she wished that woman was dead, she made sure to keep that bottled up and comfort Agatha.
„She was so angry at me, after she found me reading a spell book of hers.“ Agatha explained, her voice soft.
Rio could guess what Evanora did to Agatha; the marks on her throat were enough proof, speaking entire stories. She wanted to kill this monster. How dare she hurt her own child like this?
„You’re safe here, Aggie. I'll always protect you.“ Rio promised. She would do anything to keep her safe. She would give her life just to make sure that Agatha is safe from her mother's hatred.
Agatha nodded in response, eating her food as her stomach felt too empty. Words couldn’t simply describe how much she loved Rio and how safe she felt when she was around her.
Rio watched her silently, observing every single emotion crossing her face. She wanted to reach out, heal her, hold her in her arms, and build a safe place for them to hide away from her mother.
Agatha didn’t take long finishing her food, putting the plate aside. She moved closer to Rio, the urge and the need to touch her becoming undeniable.
Agatha cradled Rios face in her hands, staring into the earthy brown eyes of her loved one. Rios arms around her shoulders, stroking her long brown hair.
„Let me heal you, sweetheart,“ the green witch said, her voice soft and tender. She looked at Agatha’s throat, bruises darkening, the scratches starting to bleed again.
Her gaze going from her throat to the watercolored eyes of Agatha, waiting for her answer.
The purple witch nodded at her, ready for the wounds to be healed and the pain to disappear.
Rio put her hand on Agatha’s chin, lifting it, forcing her to look up so she could reach her throat properly.
She moved one of her arms that had been around Agatha’s shoulder to her skull, keeping her in place. Rio lowered her head, moving closer to the bruised skin of Agatha’s throat.
She laid her lips against the scratches, against the soft, abused skin, and kissed it so gently. The blood of her loved one on her lips. She pushed Agatha closer to her with the hand that was at the back of her head. Sinking deeper into Agatha’s skin.
She left another kiss; it was tender, as soft as a feather, and as addicting as the worst of drugs. The pain was gone; her wounds healed from the kisses.
The kiss replaced the feeling of her mother's hand around her throat, leaving her with the phantom feelings of Rio's lips on her skin.
She slowly moved away from Agatha’s throat, gulping. Small amounts of blood covered her lips.
She moved Agatha’s chin down again before she kissed her soft lips. The kiss was warm, affectionate, and addictive.
Agatha’s mouth was flooded with the taste of her own blood. She leaned closer to Rio, her lips dancing on hers.
Agatha felt the butterflies fluttering around her stomach, tingling her from the inside out.
Rio felt sparks ignite inside her; it was like a firework erupted in her heart.
Rios hand moved to other girls cheeks to caress her in a soothing manner. Calming the witch, making her forget about all the bad things in her life.
Even death herself, someone who was known for her cruelty, was gentler, more caring to her than her own mother had been her entire life.
They moved away from one another to breathe again, gasping. Agatha smiled at Rio, her heart so full of love for her.
„Come here.“ Rio said as she lifted the blanket and laid down underneath it. She was lying on her back, pulling Agatha with her. She covered Agatha's body with the heavy green blanket.
Agatha rested her head on top of Rio's chest, listening to her heartbeat; it was calming and clear as day.
Rio moved her arm around the other girl, embracing her.
„Do you hear that, Agatha?“ Rio asked, her voice breathy, while she was stroking through Agatha’s long brown hair, playing with it. „It’s my heart, black and beating only for you.“
This right here was her safe space, in Rio's protective arms, listening to a heart that was beating solely for her. Not only was she content here, but she was happy.
„Rio Vidal, you are my savior.“ Agatha said, the truth dripping out of her mouth. She was lifting her head just a bit to look at Rio before lying back down.
„I love you, too.“ Rio answered and sure Agatha’s statement wasn’t a direct love confession, but she could read between the lines; she knew what Agatha meant.
They laid like that, staring at the ceiling before sleep came over them.