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“It still feels weird,” she starts, eyes locked at the stars above. “Being out here.”
Her answer is a quiet hum, the gentlest of brushes against her fingers.
“So long we had only the dome above… So long spent knowing only our little corner of the world. Doesn’t the Continent feel endless, some days?”
There’s a light catch on her fingers. Someone else’s hand twinning with hers. She catches herself before she can turn around, makes sure her breathing continues uninterrupted, and waits.
“It is certainly… more.” Lune answers, quietly. “Open. Feels… unsafe. Like there is no defense to be had, anymore.” There is a pause, long enough that Sciel opens her own mouth. “But also like this is the world we were supposed to be in.”
Sciel swallows her words.
“Yeah.” She agrees. “Yeah, it does.”
“And the stars are more beautiful out here.” Lune adds, something lighter and almost teasing in her voice. “Which I’m sure you know.”
Sciel laughs, quietly.
“Just as unresponsive, though.”
Lune’s chuckle is warm. It nests itself down in Sciel’s chest, making its home under her ribs, by her heart.
“If they ever respond, please make sure to let me know. I am sure it will be quite the tale to leave for those who come after.”
Sciel grins, and loses the fight with herself.
When she turns, Lune is already there, eyes intent on her instead of on the stars above.
Sciel’s heart skips a beat.
“Well. I’m sure you will have endless stories to tell them, when we go back home.” She manages, heart throbbing and hands sweating.
Lune hums. “Only if you help me reword them for the kids. That is your specialty, is it not?”
“Wouldn’t you prefer to write it down in our journal?”
Lune’s mouth is very, very pretty from this close. It’s totally unfair how cute it looks, quirked like that. Sciel is only human, after all, and it is very hard to keep her mental capacity when a pretty woman is smiling like that at her.
“I am.” Lune leans closer, and Sciel can feel her breath. “But that isn’t what I asked, is it?”
Sciel’s heart stumbles over itself.
She laughs, ragged and dry mouthed.
“I would love to help you with that.” She agrees, breathlessly.
When Lune smiles again, she fails to keep herself in check.
Lune’s mouth is just as pretty in contact with hers. Her smile just as bright and addicting under Sciel’s lips.
Lune kisses like she’s trying to make music out of Sciel’s body, like her heart is just another of Lune’s old instruments and her hands are playing her just right.
Above them, the starts twinkle, bright and endless. Tomorrow, danger awaits, a promise they may not get to keep.
But tonight, Lune is smoke and energy and music under her touch, and the nightmares can wait just a while longer.
Maybe they will never get to write their stories for those who come after, but Sciel thinks they can dedicate a night or two to putting it together — just the two of them.