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The hospital air is stale with hints of decaying flowers. Miorine’s heels clack against the pristine white tiles, and her business attire stands in contrast to the white walls and ceiling. Nurses rush past her, doctors mull about, and no one asks her where she’s headed or who she is.
They all know who she is. They all know where she’s headed.
Miorine clutches a bouquet of flowers in her hands. Roses, peonies, lilies… she had just picked whatever seemed right. The barrage of color feels overwhelming amidst the blanch of the hospital, so Miorine decides to stare at her feet instead.
She doesn’t need to see to know where to go. She’s walked the same path so many times that she’s certain she could do it while asleep. Miorine turns corners, weaves past equipment and people, all without looking up for even a second. As if an outward force pushes her forward, she walks and walks until her feet suddenly plant themselves onto the floor.
The door is a light brown, the handle metallic brass, and Miorine steadies her nerves as she pushes down on it. The room beyond is bathed in darkness, save for the small amount of sunlight flitting through the shades. The bed in the middle takes up most of the room, with its wires and cables and too-many sheets. If not for the sounds of a beeping monitor, it would be completely silent. Dead silent.
Miorine shuts the door softly behind her. Not that it matters. It’s just a habit, at this point. To be quiet in a room where someone is sleeping. Even if… they aren’t sleeping.
Pulling up one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs, Miorine sighs as she sits down. She clutches the bouquet in her hands, feeling awfully stupid for bringing it.
The one she brought yesterday sits on the nightstand. Miorine glowers at it. They must have been cheap flowers for so many to already be dead.
But maybe it’s the room itself. Maybe the flowers are just reacting to their environment?
No. Miorine shakes the thought away. Suletta isn’t dead. The heart monitor beeps in response.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Constant, unending. That’s good. That’s great. That means Suletta isn’t dead.
But how long will that last?
Miorine holds her head in her hands. She has to stop thinking like that. Suletta is strong. She’ll wake up any day now.
And…
Beep. Beep. Beep.
As long as the monitor still beeps…
As long as Suletta’s heart keeps beating…
She’ll be okay.
She will be okay.
Miorine looks at the flowers again. “You know… I never asked you what your favorite flowers were.”
Suletta doesn’t respond. Not even a twitch.
“I guess you wouldn’t really know, right? Did they have flowers on Mercury?”
Not a peep. Not a breath.
“I’ve always been partial to lilies. But I like roses, too. They remind me of you.” Miorine plucks one of the roses from the bouquet and twists it between her fingers. “Mostly because they’re red.”
She brings it to her nose and inhales. “They smell good, like you, and they’re beautiful, like you…” Miorine’s gaze drifts to Suletta, and tears well in the corners of her eyes. “I love you, Suletta.”
The heart monitor blips. Only for a moment. One tiny, little pause in the beats.
Miorine likes to think that means Suletta heard her.
“Suletta,” Miorine grumbles, “can you reach over and close the blinds?”
Suletta stirs under her, eliciting another grumble from Miorine’s throat.
“Stop moving.”
Suletta’s arm wraps around her shoulders. “M-Miss Miorine, I can’t close it w-without moving…”
“Didn’t ask, don’t care.” Miorine snuggles further into Suletta, enveloping in her wife’s warmth. The sunlight is bothersome, but not nearly as bothersome as the idea of having to leave this peace and comfort for any reason.
“D-Don’t you have work today?”
Miorine whines like an annoyed toddler. “Shut up.” She wraps her arm around Suletta’s naked waist, caressing every tight muscle under warm, smooth skin. Her fingers glide across permet scars, tracing the patterns delicately. Suletta’s abdomen quakes under her touch, and Miorine can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.
Miorine shifts until her head is right over Suletta’s chest. Her ear is pressed between her breasts, which Miorine does her best to ignore. She just wants to listen. Listen to Suletta’s heartbeat.
Not through a monitor. Just like this.
“M-Miss Miorine?”
“Stop calling me that. We’re married, aren’t we?”
Suletta stumbles over her next words, and eventually, Miorine stops listening. She closes her eyes and relaxes her body, focusing intently on just listening to Suletta’s heartbeat.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Badump, Badump. Ba-dump.
It’s speeding up. Miorine smiles. Cute.
“M-Miorine!” Suletta whines. Her heart pumps faster, thrumming in uneven beats. Miorine clings to Suletta like a life-line, like a leech, and Suletta doesn’t try to move her even though she easily can.
Eventually, Miorine finds herself dozing off. Suletta’s heart acts as a soothing metronome, and the plushness of her breasts a very warm pillow. Suletta’s fingers card through her hair, separating the strands and scratching her scalp. Miorine sighs, falling deeper and deeper into her wife’s embrace.
“I don’t think I ever told you…” Suletta begins. Her fingers stop, and Miorine lets out a pathetic whine. “You asked me so nicely, but I couldn’t respond at the time.”
Miorine looks up with a frown. She’s too tired for Suletta’s riddles. “Hm?” She gruffs, quickly going back to listening to Suletta’s heartbeat and absently playing with her breasts.
“My favorite flower…”
Miorine’s breath hitches.
“I’m not really sure, honestly.” Suletta’s fingers return to her scalp, scratching idly. “We didn’t have flowers on Mercury, and I didn’t see many besides the ones in your greenhouse at school.”
Miorine listens closely, swallowing back the lump in her throat. Suletta takes her sweet time getting to the point, but Miorine wouldn’t dare rush her.
“I think I’d like to find my favorite flower. With you, someday. We can frolic in a field of them!”
Miorine doesn’t realize she’s crying until Suletta is panicking over her.
“M-Miss Miorine!”
Miorine lets out a dry laugh. “There you go again, calling me miss.” She props herself up and stares down at Suletta. She still looks panicked, but some of that worry has melted into confusion. “You’re such an idiot.”
Suletta’s confusion morphs into a smile, and she reaches up to cup Miorine’s cheeks. Her thumbs gently wipe her tears away, replacing the cold with soft warmth. A laugh bubbles in Miorine’s chest, and then she’s falling. In love all over again. Back into Suletta’s arms, who welcomes her with a laugh of her own.
Miorine buries her face into Suletta’s chest and listens.
Thump. Ba-dump. Thump.
“Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“H-Huh, wh-what? D-Do what?”
Miorine doesn’t answer. She just hugs Suletta close and listens to her heart.
“M-Mio-Mio…?”
“Don’t call me that, either.”