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What does love mean?
This question has become bothersome, weighing on Aurora’s mind as a heavy distraction. There is a time and place for such human emotions, and she doesn’t consider that place to be the center of her stage. But such thoughts wait for no one, and she has become used to suppressing unnecessary expressions before her audience.
Luckily she is no longer before her audience. She stands atop the roof of her theater, gazing down toward the streets brimming with naively entertained civilians. Does she love Metropolis? She cares for it, does her best to see to it that her people are entertained until their ends, and she will continue to repeat the process until the sun engulfs their planet. Not even the few rebels here and in between have done much to deter her for more than a few weeks. The city needs her to survive. But then, do they love her?
They cherish her, those who are none the wiser to her actions even worship her almost like a deity. Could worship be love?
Aurora decides that the word love feels rather… intimate, for the connection she has to Metropolis. They wouldn’t survive without her, and she has to admit that their devotion to her is rather nice, but they were more of a long-term project than anything.
Then, what else? There was her little robot companion. Did she love it? She thinks of it fondly when its present, but the uses of such a thing are few, more for the sake of company than anything else. She can’t have a proper conversation with it, not like she necessarily exels in the art of communication anyway. If anything, she could see it more as a pet. She looks at it with the same fondness she would a particularly fluffy cat. But then, do people not love their pets?
She sighs, lips downturned into a displeased frown. What is love?
She thinks of Bella, the woman who undoubtedly caused such turmoil. The actress said it first — a mumbled line that she was probably too dazed to even linger on, much less the way Aurora has lingered on it. They lied together after a particularly long and tiresome evening, Aurora undoing the ringlets of Bella’s hair with gentle threading and Bella making a soft noise somewhere between a purr and a snore. She whispered it before sleep overtook her, a soft and nearly missable “I love you”. And she hadn’t mentioned it since?
Was this an attempt to drive Aurora mad? Granted, Aurora hadn’t brought it up either, despite how much it had been weighing on her mind, but shouldn’t Bella address it herself?
Does she love Bella? It is the greater question that she has been worried to ask herself. She cares for Bella, that much is undeniable. She sees Bella as she is, a haunted mess of a woman who is a bit too pretentious to admit those things to herself. Albeit, she is a beautiful mess. Aurora admits that her messiness is her humanity; she is perfectly imperfect with an aura of gold. She’s charming and attractive, and her talent makes her appear as radiant as a star. But could she love her?
Bella is both confident and honest with her words, nothing that Aurora thought she lacked until it came to navigating the intricacies of human relationships. Should it be as confusing as she is making it out to be in her head? They’ve crossed boundaries with one another that Aurora has studied to be rather… sacred. And her emotions toward the actress feel more fond than anything she is used to; more personal than her care for her city, but more profound than the love she would have for a pet.
This is impossible.
Aurora stiffens, startled by a soft pair of arms wrapping around her from behind and interrupting her thoughts. She’s quick to recognize her company as Bella by the distinctly sweet smell.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Aw. Sad to see me?”
“I have not seen you, you are behind me.”
Bella chuckles at her partner’s sarcasm, lying her forehead between Aurora’s shoulder blades while rubbing gentle patterns into the robot’s synthetic skin. “Were you not resting with me?”
And Aurora leans back into her touch — allowing the actress to hold her so gently as if she were something fragile. “My systems are fully energized, Lady Bella. I lay, not for rest, but for your company.” She whispers, as if anyone were around to hear their secret. Bella is warm and the city is cold, why settle for a blanket when she could just as easily allow herself to be engulfed by her companion? Getting out of Bella’s sleeping arms is more difficult than anything Aurora has ever done in her life. The woman holds her tight and practically lies on top of her; she even whines if Aurora moves too much, although she would never admit that.
Perhaps a sleeping Bella is reminiscent of a boa constrictor.
“My company? Yet you come to the roof to stargaze alone?” Bella is pouting now, she knows this for sure although she can’t see her face. A key element in the Bella guidebook is to be as spoiled as possible, glossy blue eyes and a sardonic pout, she could disarm anyone with that combination.
Aurora makes a display of humming in order to drown her out — the arms around her become tighter. Surely these actions couldn’t be related.
“I am not merely stargazing, My Lady. Time is of the essence, there are many things to think about.”
Slowly, she drags her fingertips across The Aurora’s back, mapping out the little indentations where smooth synthetic skin would open to reveal the most gorgeous metal panels. Bella can’t help but become lost in her — Aurora is a marvelous sight. “Nonetheless, waking up without you…” She punctuates the sentiment by dragging a lighter touch over the robot’s side, one that she hurriedly tries to jolt away from,” You speak as if you don’t have all the time in the world, Miss Aurora.”
Her sensors have an odd way of validating and storing human senses, learning and repeating the things she sees from Bella, even subconsciously. She credits her reaction to this discomforting touch to that fact. “Why waste any of it?” Aurora counters. Despite her belief in her own humanity, she doesn't see the point in feigning weakness, wasting so much time on something as unimportant to her as rest.
“Take a break, Aurora. Relax.” Bella groans dramatically, tightening her hold on the woman and pivoting the two so they finally face one another. Her eyes level a silent plea of their own, one which is unfair and much too hard for Aurora’s mechanical heart to deny.
Her lips purse in consideration, a beat of silence passing before she places her palm upon her partner’s cheek to caress gently. “I am relaxed, my Bella Donna.” She attempts to deflect first, after all, one too many mistakes and silent treatments have taught Aurora not to make a promise to the star if she has no intention of keeping it.
Initially, Bella leans into the touch, greedy to drink in the warmth provided to her so carefully by someone who could be so dangerous to her, should she choose. But it doesn’t provide the distraction that the woman had hoped it would. Bella would up the ante if she could, but the only thing capable of catching Aurora off guard more than her pouting were her tears, she wouldn’t manipulate her that much, not even for her own sake.
Yet.
“The city won’t burn to the ground if you turn away for a few days, ma chérie.” Bella’s tone is neutral, but her actions are goading for Aurora’s acceptance. She holds the robot’s hand within her own, pressing feather-light kisses over her wrist; an act of temptation. “Take as you do when you visit me, have a break when we are together.”
Her internal fans immediately whir to action, the cold of Metropolis can do nothing to counter the warmth that Bella’s words cause her to feel. Aurora can’t help her weakness to this one specific human — Bella could very well be her demise and she’s not sure she would mind. “Very well then,” Aurora avoids looking into those pleading eyes although the damage has already been done. “When we are together, a break.” the sentiment feels too foreign, one that she would have never previously entertained. But for Bella…
The woman in question finally cracks into a broad smile, dropping her sad pretense in favor for enterwining their fingers. “I’ll ensure that you do not regret it!”
They’re spinning now — Aurora doesn't vocalize it but she thinks this is a terrible decision on the actresses’ part. Nonetheless, for what Bella lacks in carefulness, her partner effortlessly makes up; Aurora doesn't bother to chastise her, merely anchoring them so that neither takes an unfortunate tumble from this height.
Truthfully, she understands it now. In the way Bella laughs victoriously — her eyes crinkling at the corners, lips cracked jovially in unabashed celebration, even the way her nose scrunches; Bella is gorgeous. Mesmerizing and lovely, with her hair free from its ringlets and framing her face so perfectly, Aurora thinks she looks much younger this way. From where she stands, with Metropolis as her backdrop, she makes even the City of Light look dull in comparison.
“I adore you, my Bella Donna.”
First, she is taken aback. Aurora’s blind honesty is far and in between, but not entirely rare. After the shock fades, she is delightfully pleased, her embarrassment evident through flushed skin. “Good.”
Bella leans up to kiss her lover’s cheek, following along her cheekbone until she meets her ear — admonishing her with a secret unbeknownst to the rest of Metropolis.
“I love you too, my dear Aurora.”