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Quiet.
Nerissa is quiet when she enters Elizabeth’s room.
The dim light from the doorway pours into the dark room, casting the room in a muted glow. Elizabeth watches the blurred lines of the familiar silhouette against the wall. Holding her breath as the dark returns once more, feigning sleep, her outline fading with the soft click of the door. Elizabeth makes no move to turn and face her, letting the rise and fall of her chest still.
Light footsteps, the ruffling of clothes being shed. Elizabeth knows Nerissa’s movements by heart, the sound of her return ingrained in her mind. Her belts falling off her waist onto the floor. Elizabeth can see her movements projected on the back of her eyelids. Fingers loosening her hair, weaving through the strands. The thump of heels being kicked off, a low sigh.
Anticipation building with every second, fingers curling into the palm of her hand with want.
It would be so easy to turn around, to sneak a quick glance in the dark. Feel through the darkness for her touch. Nerissa’s visits are a rare occurrence, once a year, twice if she’s feeling generous. Still Elizabeth leaves a window cracked and her door unlocked most nights. She will risk the safety write-up from the higher ups even if Nerissa will be gone in the morning, before then even, a couple hours at most.
The sun will come up and Elizabeth will go back to hunting them down.
Elizabeth does not dare move, pushing the impulse deep within, a futile attempt. The craving clings to her like interlacing strings sewn into the deepest parts of her as if she was made with the longing eating at her insides. Begging, pleading for her to look, take Nerissa’s image in with her own eyes. Commit her to memory, even if it's just a glance. Burn this moment into her brain, make her unforgettable.
The bed dips with added weight, Elizabeth pretends not to notice the rush of brisk air as Nerissa slips under the covers. She pretends not to feel the press of cold skin when Nerissa intertwines their legs, freezing against Elizabeth’s calves. The bed stills, the duvet settling over them.
Cold fingers slip their way under her night shirt, dragging nails leaving trails of fire down her back in slow, lulling motions. Sleep threatens to take Elizabeth early into the night, the presence of wandering hands luring her in deeper. She fights it, soaking up the touch, locking it in her memory before it leaves her for months on end. Elizabeth waits for the hands to still. Counting her own breaths, lungs burning as she attempts to time her breathing with Nerissa’s. She waits and pretends she doesn’t feel the touch slowing down, hands stopping to wrap around her middle. Fingers fanning out, palm pressed flat against the muscles of her abdomen.
She waits and pretends the lines on her own palms aren’t stitched with hunger. Aching to touch her back, to spin around and take her in her arms. Feel her skin under her fingertips to make sure she’s real and not another dream. Elizabeth waits. Nerissa’s arm goes slack against her hip.
A minute passes. Two. Three.
Elizabeth turns around, the bed creaking slightly at the movement.
Eyes adjusted to the dark, she can just make out Nerissa’s still features, desperate gaze flitting across her face. Retaining every inch of her into memory. Dark strands of hair falling over her face, the imperceptible curl of her eyelashes. The blue hue of Liz’s flame lighting up the demon’s sleeping form. Taking in every curve and line, every slope and angle of her face.
Nerissa looks softer in the dark. Her horns aren't as jagged, the flowers blooming from them aren’t as grim. She looks almost innocent.
Elizabeth reaches out with her hand in the space between them and she waits for the distortion of a dream with bated breath. For the alarm to sound, for bright sunlight to wake her up as Cecilia draws open her curtains to wake her up. The sun never comes. Moonlight remains and Elizabeth’s hand is mere centimeters from brushing against Nerissa’s cheek.
The back of her finger meets the crest of her cheekbone.
A flash of movement, a swift hand clasping around Elizabeth’s wrist, fingers coiling like a snake. Light press of nails digging into the pale skin, indenting crescent moons in their wake. Bare shoulders shake with the building rumble of laughter.
“Caught you.”
Elizabeth could’ve scoffed at the irony if her breath wasn’t caught in her throat. Soft, silken lips part, smiling around the faint whisper of words spoken like a kept promise.
“Nerissa,” Elizabeth blinks back at her, lips mouthing the syllables in disbelief. Unsure if her mouth still remembers the constants and vowels of her name, remembers how her name tastes on her tongue. She calls for her again, louder. “Nerissa—”
A hum of acknowledgement. Elizabeth feels it against her chest, where Nerissa has pulled their bodies flush together, the thunder of her existence reverberating against her sternum. Nerissa’s bare skin against the satin of Elizabeth’s night shirt.
“There’s no need for you to say my name.” Nerissa runs her thumb over Elizabeth’s bottom lip, quieting any attempt to speak. A familiar teasing tone. “I’m right here.”
Her light words trail off into a breath of laughter, amused, she leans closer. Elizabeth tries to turn back around, face already hot under the attention now Nerissa knows she's been awake. Knows Elizabeth has been waiting for her like a loyal dog. A gentle hand cupping her jaw keeps her in place, pulling Elizabeth’s gaze with no real force.
“Were you staying up for me?”
It’s alarming.
How easy Nerissa can slip past her defense as if she never left. Elizabeth should be mad. Furious even. She should resist the urge to crawl back into her arms not beg for her to pull her in. Let the spark of embarrassment ignite into irritation so Elizabeth can finally stoke the fire in her chest that burns with obligation. Gigi shares a wall with her, if she shouts for help Justice will come to her aid in a moment. They’d catch their first advent member.
Sound the alarm and end the chase once and for all because she knows Advent will never let Justice keep her without a fight.
Fingers tap on her jaw, awaiting an answer.
Thorn hangs on the wall behind Nerissa, the deep red of the blade just barely visible in the dark of her room. It would be so easy. Catch Nerissa off guard and take her. The thought rings in the back of her mind as if her sword has its own voice in her head.
Take her. Take her.
Nerissa’s fingers caress her chin, her thumb brushes across her bottom lip once more. Eyes lazily follow the movement, gaze drifting to Elizabeth’s lips before trailing back up to meet her gaze again. Now, when she has her guard down.
Elizabeth's breath quickens, her fingers wrap around Nerissa's wrist. A pulse beating beneath her palm. Nerissa shifts, a simple adjustment, and yet Elizabeth's grip tightens on instinct as if to keep her in place.
She blinks and Nerissa tilts her head, horn digging into the pillow. Watching. Waiting. Gaze narrowing slightly as if daring Elizabeth to act on the thought.
A cold chill runs down her spine. She loosens her grip, hand sliding down the length of Nerissa's forearm before letting go. Elizabeth isn’t sure whether it’s from anticipation or disgust at herself for the mere thought of betraying the unspoken truce they’ve upheld over the years that only exists in the confines of her room. She can only nod, letting Nerissa guide her so her face rests in the crook of her neck. Breathing her in. Elizabeth isn't certain but she swore she heard Nerissa let out a shaky breath of air. The flame on her chest burns a heatless blue between their bodies.
She does not call for the others, snuffing out the absurd thought from her mind. Thorn remains hanging on the wall and Nerissa’s cold hands are slowly warming up as she rubs circles against Elizabeth's back.
“I…couldn’t sleep,” Elizabeth finally speaks, hoping the casual words will cover her trail. Voice muffled against soft skin, spoken into the underside of Nerissa’s jaw. An excuse to hide her desperation, halfway between a lie and the truth.
Black hair brushes against her face as she settles deeper into the crux where Nerissa’s neck and jawline meet.
Elizabeth is always waiting for her.
Hands entangle themselves into her hair, starting at the nape of her neck. Elizabeth melts into her arms, relief bouncing of her ribcage as Nerissa accepts her excuse without probing. Nails massage the delicate skin, slipping through red and blue strands of hair. A laugh escapes Nerissa and Elizabeth smiles as the vibration of her laugh thrums against where her lips are pressed against her throat.
“We can’t have that, now can we,” Nerissa muses, the hands playing with her hair, slipping lower. Fingers pressing into defined shoulder blades, the heel of her palm massaging the tense muscle. “Tell me what you need.”
Elizabeth does not miss the suggestive lilt in Nerissa’s voice. The hints of an offer in the wandering hands dipping slightly below the hem of her pants before returning upwards, running along the dip of her spine. Elizabeth shakes her head, no, she doesn’t want that, not tonight.
Not trusting her voice to not break, Elizabeth only curls further into Nerissa’s arms. Intertwining their legs, hooking her calf around an ankle in a swift movement that elicits a gasp and Elizabeth hides her slight smile against bare skin. Nerissa pulls her in even closer without another word, lips brushing the shell of her ear as she mutters sweet words of comfort.
This.
Sleep pulls on Elizabeth’s eyelids. The lull of Nerissa’s breathing, the calming beat of her heart against her ear, living proof of her return. Fighting sleep, Elizabeth tries to savor the whispers murmured into her hair, the nails tracing shapes up and down the small of her back before sleep takes her.
Only this.
The bed is still warm when Elizabeth wakes, searching hands clutching empty sheets. Disappointment rises up her chest as she slowly wakes, eyes blinking. Her room is still dark under the fading moonlight, the sun still below the edge of the horizon.
She’s leaving early. A tiny pit forms in Elizabeth's stomach as her eyes follow the quiet sounds of movement.
Lithe fingers making quick work of the shirt buttons, Liz’s eyes involuntarily trail upwards, taking in the sight of Nerissa’s bare skin. Smooth hands filling empty gloves, loose straps dangling at her side. Boots bunching at the crux of her knee, gloved fingers pull them up her thigh, the fabric warping around the soft curve of muscle.
"Since your eyes are so eager…” A huff of laughter blending into a thoughtful hum. “why don’t you help me get dressed?”
Elizabeth’s fingertips tingle with want, she grabs for Nerissa’s waist, using it as leverage to help her sit up. Clasping the straps, putting the ring on her fingers, helping her arm through the holes of her vest. Quietly clipping Nerissa’s hair-pieces into place. Fingers fumbling with her abundance of belts and even though Nerissa can do it herself, she lets Elizabeth help. Half-closed eyes watching her through long eyelashes in silent amusement, a sly look thrown her way when Liz’s hands linger at her waist longer than necessary, pretending to tighten an already fastened belt strap.
“Watch the hands. You know the rules, don’t you?”
A noncommittal hum of acknowledgment leaves her throat. The rules Elizabeth made. Leave before daybreak. No noise. No wanting.
Elizabeth is careful not to let her hands wander too much, quick fingers hiking up the other boot. The fabric snapping over her finger for a moment, pressing it against the flesh of Nerissa’s thigh.
“There we are,” Nerissa laughs, making space for Elizabeth’s working hands. “You’re being so good for me, huh?”
Reluctantly Elizabeth’s hands fall to her side when she finishes clasping the final belt.
Nerissa parts with a quick smile, turning away without another word. Hands move on their own, on impulse, grasping at a leather sleeve. Nerissa stares at the hand that stopped her in her tracks, and for a moment, Elizabeth is afraid she’s over stepped. Nerissa laughs. The sweet sound is a warning as much as it is mere amusement. Elizabeth lets Nerissa’s sleeve go without a word, her arm frozen at her side. Fingers curling into the palm of her hand instead.
The dread in her chest fades quickly when Nerissa only heads for Elizabeth’s vanity.
“Can you give me a hint?” Elizabeth asks towards Nerissa’s back as she fixes her hair in a mirror, pulse thundering in her ear. Biting back the protest burning on the tip of her tongue, a poor shroud of innocent curiosity. “A direction?”
Advent has been particularly elusive the past half-year, and in turn, the Justice girls have gotten antsy. Boredom replacing productivity due to the stagnant pace they’ve been making on hunting down the fugitives. Shiori must’ve told Nerissa they’re picking up and moving hideouts or else she wouldn’t have risked leading Justice to their base. Knowing Advent’s last known location could lift Justice’s mood.
Nerissa catches Elizabeth’s gaze through the mirror, barely sparing a second glance before returning back to her own reflection, meticulous fingers weaving through strands of hair.
A distracted hum. “You know I can’t.”
Elizabeth knows it. Knows the consequences of Nerissa visiting her like this. How Advent has to move hideouts the second Nerissa returns because Elizabeth does not plan to give up that easily. On the mission, on her.
“Please—”
In the span of a second, Nerissa abandons the vanity and is on Elizabeth, one knee on the bed as she stands betweeen Elizabeth's legs. Half turned towards her and half facing the door.
“Nope,” A gloved hand presses against her sternum, just above her flame, the light presence of fingertips is enough to hold her in place. Nerissa leans in, filling the space without hesitation. A light tap on her chest on time with the surge of warmth in her ribcage, punctuating each word. “Your job is to be good and stay right here.”
Elizabeth opens her mouth to retaliate, the fiery taste of indignation on the tip of her tongue. Limbs tingling to follow, muscles tensing in anticipation fighting the urge to go after her, to go with her.
Let me follow you. Let me chase you.
Nerissa’s smile falters at Elizabeth’s obvious hesitation, the soft pull of her lips weighing down in a silent reprimand.
The words die before they reach her throat, sitting behind clenched teeth like a muzzled dog. The threat of disobeying weighs greater than her desire. Elizabeth does not fight the gentle push, head falling back on soft pillows with a quiet huff. Smiling eyes looking down at her.
“So you are capable of following my orders,” Nerissa muses, voice dipping and rising with teasing praise. “Isn’t that sweet?”
Elizabeth basks in the honeyed tone of Nerissa’s voice, hiding the pull of a smile against the pillow. The warmth inside of her chest seeping into her limbs, confining Elizabeth to the bed, she does not want the warmth to leave. Although she fears its absence, dreads the chill she has to endure— and yet through the pain, through the heartache, Elizabeth is content.
This time is different. Different from all the other times Elizabeth has woken up to Nerissa halfway out the door. Times where Elizabeth was the one rushing her out the door herself.
This time she does not want Nerissa to leave.
All Elizabeth can do is bite the inside of her cheek, letting Nerissa’s touch bind her to her bed. The hand on her chest slides up to the nape of her neck, fingers snaking through her scalp. The texture of her gloves leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Elizabeth fights the urge to lean into her touch, fingers aching to wrap around Nerissa’s wrist. Fights the urge to wrap her legs around her waist and hold her touch there until she’s had her fill.
Something familiar burns deep inside her and suddenly Elizabeth wishes she took Nerissa up on the offer earlier.
“Aw, you poor thing, there’s no need to pout,” Nerissa teases, voice entangled in a light breath of laughter mellowing out into a low hum. Fingers play with the hair on the nape of her neck. “I’ll be back, you know I can't stand not being able to see this pretty face of yours.”
A brief hitch in her breathing at the little compliment thrown her way, the thrum in her chest quickens. Elizabeth’s face burns hot and she wonders if Nerissa can feel the heat leaking through the fabric of her gloves.
Wonder if she can feel the phantom warmth emitting from Elizabeth’s flame as it flares in a quick burst of light at her hand on her neck.
“How…” Elizabeth starts, allowing Nerissa’s touch, allowing the drag of fingers up and down her scalp. Ignoring the tingles shooting up and down her spine, the flush of heat rising up her neck. A dull buzzing stems from the back of her skull, teetering on the edge of unbearable before softening to faint a but pleasent hum. Elizabeth tries again. “How long?”
How long will you be gone? How long until you visit me again?
Elizabeth knows not to ask directly, to conceal her yearning underneath threads of naive ignorance and prays Nerissa won’t weave her way through. Hopes Nerissa won’t notice her fingers tugging at the sheets, the pause in her words, the want in the silence. The desperation slipping through the cracks, Elizabeth’s makeshift devotion staining Nerissa’s gloves.
Still, the want is impossible to suppress, crawling its way out of her body. Claws ripping through her flesh like a starving dog, gnawing on the bars of its cage.
“Hmm,” Nerissa’s fingers pause at the back of her neck, tensing, a slight press of fingertips into soft skin. A quick pull at the corner of tinted lips and Elizabeth knows she’s misstepped. “All these questions, Elizabeth, do you not trust me?”
Nerissa says her name like a curse. The cold press of Nerissa's ring leaves her skin, Elizabeth bites her tongue fighting the whine threatening to leave her throat. Annoyance feeds the fire.
Elbows push against the mattress as Elizabeth tries to sit up. “That’s not what I mean—”
A darkness settles in Nerissa’s gaze and Elizabeth is reminded of how dangerous Nerissa can be when she isn’t indulging her with their little game. If Elizabeth pushes any further, she wonders if Nerissa would show her exactly why the gods locked her away.
The thought excites her, awakens a part of her that’s been dormant for so long.
“Enough,” Nerissa cuts Elizabeth off, voice soft yet it binds her to a stop, the bite of iron ripping through the thin layer of velvet. The barely there thrum of magic in her ears. Quieting her with sweet whispered words like a misbehaving pet. "I know you’re worried, and there’s really no need for you to. But just so we’re clear…”
Voice soft, a light breath of air against her ear. Gloved hands run down Elizabeth’s shoulders to her upper arms, fingers curling around her bicep. Hidden strength lurks beneath the surface, a faint pulse of annoyance behind a veil of a smile, Elizabeth’s leash is stretched thin. Methodical in every way, Nerissa’s touch balances on the edge of hurting, always yielding to Elizabeth’s rare resistance. Allowing the little bouts of struggle. Nerissa’s jewelry digs into the taut muscle as she draws Elizabeth closer.
“If I really wanted this, wanted you—” Nerissa murmurs, a heated whisper, the ghost of her lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I would have stopped running a long time ago.”
The scorch of rejection brands itself deep into the skin of her arm, marking her as unwanted, undesired. Elizabeth blinks away the pricking pain in her eyes, a wetness brimming the inner corners of her eyes. Thumbs swipe at the fallen tears on her face, smearing them across her cheek instead of wiping them away.
A flash of something refelcts in Nerissa's eyes, regret or satisfaction, Nerissa blinks and her easy smile returns. “Do you understand?”
Her comfort is cruel, still Elizabeth accepts it.
And in some ways Elizabeth does understand because she cannot promise Nerissa that if the higherups called that she would resist her duty as the leader of Justice. Cannot promise her that she would resist the pull of obligation. She knows she is asking too much of her. Asking Nerissa to choose between her freedom and their— whatever they have between them.
Elizabeth is not entirely blameless in the mess of their situation. No one forces her to continue on leading the chase after Advent. Obligation and responsibility keep her from leaving but the thought of defecting lingers in moments of weakness. Quickly shot down because like Nerissa, Elizabeth knows that if this meant more than to her than Justice, she’d have given the job up years ago.
Still. It is a human thing to want the very thing you can’t have so Elizabeth settles with bending the rules and risking marks on her record if it she could have both.
The stabbing pain of rejection subsides, replaced with warmth as soft lips press against her cheek. Hands rubbing soothing circles in its wake, easing any lasting discomfort. Nerissa does not give in completely, she keeps the distance even when handing out affection. Gentle but precise hands run up Elizabeth’s neck, cupping the underside of her jaw in an unspoken apology. The fabric of gloves grazing her ears, holding her in place.
Nerissa waits for a response.
Elizabeth nods, relief flooding her chest when Nerissa captures the corner of her mouth in a pleased kiss. A satisfied hum leaves Nerissa’s throat, a light vibration against Elizabeth’s lips. Elizabeth wants to trap the sound between her teeth.
“So obedient.” Nerissa grins, her hand running through the red bangs that frame Elizabeth’s face, tucking loose strands behind her ear.
The words could barely be considered praise still they ring in her ears like a bell, a melodic chime Elizabeth wants to hear over and over. Elizabeth doesn’t mind the ache, she has decided just now. Not when the comfort that follows is more than enough to endure the sting in her chest. Soft coos, calming hands carving the reassurance Elizabeth craves into her skin. Lips marking every inch of her, the subtle graze of teeth, mindless praise murmured against her open mouth mid-kiss.
The heat from early burns once again as Nerissa douses her in affection. More. Elizabeth wants all of what Nerissa is willing to give her before she has to leave.
Desperate hands guide Nerissa’s lower, towards the buttons of her sleepwear. The kiss deepens with a surprised laugh leaving Nerissa that Elizabeth cuts off with a chastising bite but the hands that Elizabeth so desperately need do not move to unbutton her shirt. Fingers lightly graze her waist, denying anything more as their time together dwindles down by the minute.
It only lasts a few moments. The faint hint of sunlight bleeding through red curtains warns them of the time they don’t have. Elizabeth chases when Nerissa parts, nose brushing the side of her face.
A hand on her shoulder keeps her in place. Nerissa smiles and its a tiny smile, an acknowledgement and apology in one little curve.
Nerissa doesn’t say goodbye and Elizabeth knows she doesn’t need to. They’ll see each other again. Whether it be another night like this or when Justice manages to catch up to Advent.
This is enough, Elizabeth decides, eyes following the quick raise and fall of Nerissa’s chest as she steps back. It’s enough that Nerissa allows her to have her like this, in fleeting moments that only exist in the seclusion of her room, in the dark of night.
To have her at all is enough.
Elizabeth remains at the foot of the bed when Nerissa gets up to leave for real this time, words of want stirring in her throat but she does not reach for her. She does not beg Nerissa to stay this time. This is how it is, how it always will be. One of them has to leave, the other forced to wait and Elizabeth doesn’t mind being the one waiting.
Forget the taste of desperation, bend the gnawing hunger and mold it into something softer.