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Madeline fumbled for the keys to her small home, then swore as she realized that she had forgotten them. Tears pricked at her eyes, her bottled up feelings from earlier threatening to spill over. She dropped to the ground and curled up against the door, feeling like shit. It was times like this she wished she still carried her pocket knife everywhere, or had a pack of cigarettes with her. Anything to take her mind off of what she did.
The 19 year old tried to calm herself down, pushing away those thoughts. What would Felicia think if she relapsed now, when she had been clean and sober for months? Felicia, who cared so much for her it was overbearing. Felicia, who was the reason she was still here. Imagine how she would feel seeing the fresh cuts on young Madeline's forearms, or seeing her rubbing the butt of a cigarette on their front porch. Imagine how disappointed she would be. Madeline was better than that, they both knew it. Or did they?
Madeline held her head in her hands, sobbing. It felt like hours before a soft hand ran their fingers through her hair. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” Felicia. Madeline looked up, snot running down her nose, tears staining her cheeks. She felt so pathetic next to her. Felicia, the strongest woman she knew, even stronger than her mama.
Felicia knelt in front of her, wiping away at her tears with a gentle thumb. She softly kissed Madeline’s cheek, and helped her stand up.
“Did you forget your keys again?” Felicia didn’t sound disappointed, which made Madeline feel worse somehow. The younger woman had stopped crying since her lover had appeared, but she could feel the sobs trying to escape again, so she just nodded. Felicia opened her crossbody bag, reaching into it and coming up with her spare keys. Madeline sighed in relief. Felicia unlocked the door, then took the Canadian’s hand as she walked in.
After they took off their shoes, Felicia gently ran a thumb over the back of Madeline’s hand as she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” Madeline shook her head, and Felicia just smiled softly at her. “Okay.”
They walked into their separate rooms, placing their bags on the shelves next to their beds. Then they walked into the hallway, holding hands again. Madeline still had not spoken yet, not feeling like she could without crying again. Felicia understood. She always did.
Madeline looked down at herself and thought ‘I need a shower’. She could imagine that Felicia was thinking the same. It had been a long day for both of them, afterall.
“Do you need a shower?” Yep, she was feeling the same. “You normally take one in the morning, but you’re really drenched.” Madeline hadn’t even noticed that it had started raining.
“Yes.” It was barely audible, but Felicia could understand.
“Come, let’s take one together then.” Felicia led Madeline to the bathroom, where she began undressing slowly. Madeline felt flustered as she stood staring. The Italian tilted her head at her, making Madeline fumble to begin taking off her clothing.
When they were both fully undressed, Felicia led Madeline into the shower, and turned it on. It was a bit cold at first, which made Felicia jump a bit, and Madeline giggled. But soon enough they began to wash up.
As Felicia washed Madeline’s hair, she heard sniffling and pauseed to look at the face of her lover. Madeline was crying again.
“Are you alright?” Madeline shook her head. She could never lie to Felicia. “Do you want to talk about it now?” Madeline took a shaky breath.
“I’m such a p-piece of shit. I got really mad at Amelia today at work and I-” she hiccupped - “Isaidsomereallybadthingstoherandnowithinkshehatesmeormaybeshethinksihateherwhichisnttruebuthowwouldsheknow?plusihitherwhichiveneverdoneinmylifeand-” She was full on sobbing again, and Felicia turned her around to give her a hug, which Madeline gladly reciprocated.
“Breathe.” It didn’t sound like a command, or demanding, as nothing Felicia said ever did. “It’s okay. You didn’t mean it, I know you didn’t. Anger makes us do and say things we’d never do otherwise. Plus, sisters fight all the time. I would know.”
“Felicia, I hit her. We never lay h-hands on each other, no matter how angry we get. A-and I did.”
“I know, amore. But you didn’t mean to, did you?”
“N-no.” Madeline hiccupped.
“You’re not a bad person. But nobody’s perfect. We all make mistakes.”
♡
A few hours later, after eating dinner (it was pasta, courtesy of Felicia), Madeline and Felicia were cuddling on the sofa in their living room as they watched a movie. It was quite old, but the two had always loved older films. The Canadian had her head resting in her lover’s lap as Felicia played with her hair, gently humming an Italian song her Nonna used to sing to her when she was young.
The two young ladies sat in that position long after the movie had ended, looking at each other lovingly. They didn’t want to move, to let go of each other, atleast not yet. But eventually they had to, because they couldn’t stay there forever.
Some minutes pass – or maybe hours, time seems to stop whenever they’re with each other – and Felicia stood up, careful to not wake up Madeline, who had since fallen asleep. She picked up the Canadian, barely struggling, and after some thinking carried her lover into her own room. She sat her on the floor, pulled down her blanket, picked her up again, then placed her onto the bed. Felicia then lay down herself, covering them both up. She moved closer to Madeline, wrapping her arms around the Canadian and tangling their legs together. Madeline stirred a bit, though Felicia didn’t think she had woken up until she spoke softly.
“Te amo, Felicia.”
“Je t’aime, Madeline.”