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Cahira had literally just woken up and she was already met with those big ass Sunny-side up eggs that Fernaire calls her eyeballs.
The lady flinched, the sight waking her up almost instantly. Her shoulders hunched up against her trapezius, the big ass blanket that Perdita had insisted on buying for them because according to her, Fernaire kicked in her sleep as if she was…’fighting a death god,’ shifting a little off her chest. . “Fernaire,” she said hesitantly, as if she was slowly inching towards a ferocious beast ( she was,) “why are you looking at me?”
Fernaire responded immediately, her wide gaze softening into something more polite and familiar. “Has anybody told you that you’re beautiful? Like—like just so hot?”
Cahira flushed, pulling the blanket up to cover the lower half of her face. Birthmarks, small, subtle acne scars, and most importantly the reddish tint disappeared and were replaced with soft, thick fabric. “I—uh..” she cleared her throat. “I mean yeah, but…”
“But…?”
“I like it better when you say that.” Her voice was smaller and pitched an octave higher. She hiked the blanket up higher so that it covered seafoam blue eyes. “It actually means something comin’ from you.” She whispered.
Fernaire chuckled, her little sharp snaggle tooth poking out through her lips. “You’re sweet.” The girl took the corner of the blanket and slowly took it away to reveal Cahira’s face, as if she was unwrapping something precious.
The taller woman simply huffed and pushed the blanket to the shorter. The latter laughed harder, her body pushing against the sheets as the bundle of cotton was forced onto her chest. She pushed it back to Cahira, and Cahira pushed it back to her. They went like that for a while until the dark-skinned woman just straight up tackled Fernaire, completely ignoring the blanket. Then they started wrestling and, as usual, Fernaire won.
Cahira laughed softly as she was pushed into the dusty white sheets, her long, thick eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. Fernaire smiled, her hands pinned against both sides of the lady under her. She panted softly with effort, since, despite the fact that she barely works out, Cahira was considerably strong. Fernaire was still stronger, though, even though she was ridiculously shorter.
Cahira looked up at the woman above her, her eyelashes casting deep shadows over her gleaming eyes. Her irises went from a deep ocean indigo to a gleaming teal—a result of the sunlight creeping through her blinds. Her smile was true, and her night black locks rested against her head and shoulders like a halo. They curled up against her cheeks, framing her face beautifully. Fernaire blushed.
“Why—why are you so…” Cahira blinked with confusion, tilting her head. Her coiled bunched up against her cheek. Fernaire groaned, digging her forehead into the crook of Cahira’s neck. The bridge of her nose was all scrunched up and her eyebrows were furrowed. “Ugh, I hate you, you should die or something.” You’re so beautiful. I think I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die and you’re gonna laugh at my funeral but that’s ok cause it means you cared enough to come.
Cahira, the devil, just laughed. She brought her hand up to the back of Fernaire’s head, brushing the rough tufts of hair through her fingers. Her carefully manicured nails softly scratched against her lover’s scalp. The latter immediately relaxed into the taller’s hold. “I’m so lucky…” she whispered into Cahira’s skin.
“Why do ya keep complimenting me? I’m nothing special.” Fucking idiot. Fernaire scoffed at Cahira’s statement. How can she be so oblivious to her own beauty? For gods sake, does she know how much glares Fernaire has to give at clubs when Cahira tags along with her just so strangers don’t lay their grubby hands on her gorgeous skin?
“Fucking idiot.” Fernaire voices her thoughts, because she has to give Cahira some insight, doesn’t she? “You’re the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever dated. That I’ve ever met.”
As if Fernaire hasn’t fed into her ego enough, she dares to ask, “Gorgeous? How?” And you know what? Fernaire feeds into it because she doesn’t know what attention-seeking is (and because she’s autistic but she don’t have time to get a diagnosis.)
“You’re hot like…” she gets off of Cahira, finally, and said woman resists gasping for breath. Fernaire groans quietly and waves her hands around in thought, making useless gestures while trying to communicate her thoughts. Cahira distantly remembers that one time where Fernaire was doing that thing and she accidentally hit Soren in the face. He ended up with a bloody nose and stomped away somberly before returning a few minutes later, but with a wad of toilet paper shoved up his nostril.
Finally, she lets out an “ah!” Like sound and snaps her fingers. “Like a poster hot! Y’know those hot girls on posters? Like them! Or like—like movie-hot!” Fernaire has a proud smile on her face and her snaggle tooth stands out from all her other teeth. Cahira wants to pinch her cheeks and yank.
“Or like…like professor-hot!” The ‘professor-hot’ girl, in question, tilted her head with puzzlement.
“What does that mean again?” She shuffled up so her back laid against the wall, just like Fernaire. They didn’t have a bed with a frame. In fact, they didn’t have a bed at all. They’ve been sleeping on a mattress with a sheet on it for two weeks because they had just moved into their apartment recently and have been way too busy (and lazy) to actually buy a bed frame.
“I dunno, like…” Fernaire’s nose bridge scrunched up again, and her hands rose as if she was preparing to flail them around again. She's reaaally deep in thought, huh? Cahira thought. Cute.
“Like…unattainable? …untouchable? Yeah, that’s the word! Untouchable!” Fernaire snapped her fingers again. You could barely hear the sound, though, since her hands were clammy from both the blanket and the nervousness of having a woman as glorious as Cahira sleeping next to her.
“You’re hot in the way that everyone wants you, but no one gets to have you.” Fernaire hummed sweetly. “And here I am…actually having you.” She melted into the mattress, taking the blanket and pulling it up to cover her face. She looked exactly like how Cahira looked earlier, when she was still flustered with compliments.
“You’ll always have me, Fernaire. You’re not allowed to leave me.” Cahira smiles as if it’s something sweet that she just said, and curls up next to Fernaire. The latter raises one eyebrow, eyeing her girlfriend skeptically.
“That makes it sound like you’ll kill me if I leave you.” I’d never kill you. Thought Cahira. I’d lock you up and chop off your limbs so you can’t do anything without me, but I’d absolutely never kill you.
Fernaire lets out a breath, completely oblivious to Cahira’s train of thoughts, “I get it, though. I think I’d cry on my bathroom floor for a million years if you left me.” Cahira’s smile deepens. Good.
Fernaire wrapped her arms around Cahira’s lower waist and snuggled up against her. The taller girl reciprocated immediately, throwing her arms over Fernaire’s shoulders and nuzzling her face into her own. The shorter girl chuckles as their noses brushed against each other. They looked into each other’s eyes, and Fernaire couldn’t help but think that it couldn’t get better than this, even though it definitely could—all she had to do was buy a gold ring that contrasted with her lover’s eyes.
For a few minutes, it was just sun yellow boring into coral blue. Eventually, the sun yellow widened and the owner’s thick brows furrowed. “Wait, what time is it?” She was just about to grab the phone on the side of the mattress, but Cahira grabbed her wrists and pulled them back to her waist.
“Early. It’s, uhm, it’s early—we have enough time.” Cahira had no fucking idea what time it was, but she did know that the warmth of Fernaire’s hands was too much to lose. “Can we stay like this for, like, another five minutes?”
“Ten. We’ve earned it.” Fernaire pressed a chaste kiss to Cahira’s lips, and the latter began fumbling over words, her face flushed red. The perpetrator laughed, until she calmed down and they both fell into a soft slumber.
Eventually, ten minutes turned into fifteen, and fifteen turned into twenty. They slept and slept until they were woken up by a slightly tanned, curly haired boy. His eyes were green, he was fully dressed, and undeniably annoyed.
“Wake up, lesbians. You’ve been sleeping for like…when did you guys go to bed?” He took a moment to count on his fingers before drifting his grassy gaze back to the pair, still clinging onto each other like koalas on the mattress. The blanket only covered their feet now, and the sheet was bundled up into the bottom right corner of the mattress.
“You’ve been sleeping eleven hours, I’m pretty sure.” He put his hand on his waist, his nose bridge scrunched up with annoyance. Fernaire’s was too. Like brother, like sister, I guess.
“Eleven…what?” Cahira asked, clearly still drowsy. “Wait…who are you?” One of her eyes was half-lidded and the other was completely closed. She couldn’t recognize anything but the warm hands on her waist and the soft, black hair under her chin.
“It’s my brother.” Fernaire sighed.
“Oh.” Cahira mumbled.
“Yeah.” Sage rasped.
“Sage?”
“Hm?”
“You should kill yourself.”
“I know.”