Apartment Above Dite's | Wednesday Morning

[begmetwice]

There were very few things Irene enjoyed more, truly, than a good, comfortable lie-in. Particularly one with company, of course, but that came with its own, 'sometimes the people we love have terrible habits and like getting out of bed promptly,' problems.

(And sometimes that just necessitated the formation of a compelling argument before caffeine, was all.)

Which was why, when Irene barely stirred into consciousness at the first tickle of sunlight this morning, she fairly immediately snuggled right into Amaya. Lazy morning time could be precious, cuddling could be resisted (though doing so in earnest seemed to be a thing of the distant past, for the most part), and arguments -- non-verbal ones, at least, in the form of curling her body into Amaya's and draping a leg to keep everyone snugged up -- needed to be made.

Of course, had she made a verbal argument for staying in bed all morning, it would have been immediately apparent that today was no ordinary Wednesday.

Surely that discovery would be incredibly welcome, and perfectly fine with everyone in this bed once it was made.

[for that gal who LOVES truth day!!!]

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[begmetwice]

Irene would have thought the words were a lot better than vomit, for what it was worth, even before she heard them.

And for a second, she was half-convinced she hadn't heard what she had, or that she'd hallucinated what Amaya had said. She'd imagined hearing those words (or similar ones, anyway; she had a very active imagination, after all) for such a long time, and so much of their relationship had been tentative and teasing that it was almost inconceivable to her that either of them would ever, actually, come out with the truth of it.

But there it was.

"Oh, thank god," she murmured after a moment's pause, leaning forward to close the distance between them with a very, very needed kiss. Her heart was still pounding so hard she was positive Amaya could probably feel it, too. "I was going to have to scale out the window out of shame if you'd said anything else."

You might think that was an exaggeration, but no, it was still truth day! And she had the icon!

[special_rabbit]

Immediately after she said it, Amaya wanted to protest. She wanted to take it back, pretend she hadn't said anything, boldly claim she'd said something else entirely. But she couldn't, could she? She knew that wasn't how this worked.

But then Irene was kissing her, and it was impossible for her to regret even a single breath of it. And she fell into that kiss so completely that it felt like the only thing grounding her had fallen away when Irene spoke again.

It didn't help that what she said, cheeky reference to an icon as it may be, struck hard to the very crux of why she wasn't sure of just throwing up instead might have been better, actually.

She was not proud of the desperate sounds that escaped her, and would like it kindly struck from the record. Especially when she knew it was just supposed to be (mostly?) be just a light, flippant bit of levity to lift the weight of the situation.

"Please don't," she whispered, her arm pulling Irene closer to her. "I don't...I don't want you to leave."

And considering that this was Irene's apartment, Irene's room, that was probably a good indication that she didn't just mean the bed...

[begmetwice]

Irene took a moment just to kiss her, pouring as much reassurance into it as she could even as her mind worked at double speed. Joke though it was (and truthful-feeling joke though it might have been), that was a fairly unexpected reaction. Especially since, yes, this was Irene's very bed they were in, and she had zero plans to vacate it any time soon.

Or Amaya's arms. Or the island, wholecloth.

"I'm not going anywhere, love," she whispered, nuzzling lightly along Amaya's jaw before lifting her hand back up to cup her face. "I promise. Are you -- have you been worried I might?"

It explained so much. Maybe Irene wasn't the only one with a tricky, painful past.

[special_rabbit]

"Well," said Amaya, brow knitted as that desperate feeling just channelled itself into her look back at Irene, and she was starting to sound almost angry about it now, "that's what happens, isn't it? People leave. Everyone always leaves. And that's what makes this so terrible, because we've been able to hold on for so long, but now we've gone and said the thing, and that's it, after that, game over. It's doomed."

[begmetwice]

"Or," Irene suggested with a gentle nudge of her foot against Amaya's leg, her tone cautious -- almost like she was testing whether what she was saying would be permitted to pass as the truth, "we just keep doing what we have been, and nothing changes? Do you know how many times I've almost accidentally said I love you, just because you were being all -- y'know, loveable? Nothing's doomed, now. It's just...out loud."

She kind of liked hearing herself say it, actually.

[special_rabbit]

Amaya relaxed, a little, thanks to that gentle nudge, those cautious words, and just hearing Irene saying it again. Throwing up, unfortunately, still felt like it was very much on the table, if only now for all the emotional whiplash she was feeling right now.

"I'd like that," she said. "I really would, but..."

A hesitation, an attempt to hold it back, but the wound had already been rendered open, and the wellspring of honesty and all the things she kept buried so deep underneath it all was just going to keep gushing forward.

She sighed, shaking her head before ducking it toward Irene's. "Papa always warned me," she said quietly, "to never actually be with anyone you loved, because then, when they left, it wouldn't matter, because you didn't love 'em anyway...but I just...couldn't help myself. With you..."

[begmetwice]

"That's a marvelous way to tell yourself you won't be hurt," Irene offered softly, just going ahead and leaning her forehead against Amaya's. "I didn't mean to, either. You were just supposed to be this pretty blacksmith with absolutely killer guns who I liked to flirt with. But then you went and you were you, and there I went and...I told myself I could never be like that with someone again, when I came here. It's terrifying to be that vulnerable, yeah? Against your will and everything, too."

She got it, Amaya. She really, really did.

A beat, and then -- maybe an even deeper confession than her prior one: "But I trust you."

And Irene, as a general rule, did not trust anyone with anything. But maybe she could make just one exception.

[special_rabbit]

"I know," said Amaya, with a softness that turned into a faint huff. "I am a pretty trustworthy person, after all."

But the relief in being able to lean into a bad joke was short lived as the sincerity she just could escape slipped right back in with a sigh.

"But I also know it's more than that," she said. "Because...well, I mean, because of London, and all that, and I...ugh."

There were those knots again, but these ones felt slightly different.

"I'm so bad at all of this stuff!"

[begmetwice]

"No, you're just you, and I'm pretty fluent in you, now. Why do you think you are, though?" Irene asked, genuinely wanting an answer and knowing she'd get one today. Her foot nudged gently against Amaya's leg again, just to reaffirm the comforting touch. "Did something happen to make you think you're bad at all this?"

Because for most of their association, Irene had suspected that Amaya was her own worst enemy when it came to matters of the heart (and, well before that, matters of letting the fancy lady who wouldn't leave you alone take you to bed.) And while she had her suspicions, she had never quite nailed down -- or wanted to ask -- whether it was a matter of prior relationships, or insecurity, or an unknown quantity, or a combination thereof.

[special_rabbit]

Amaya snorted at the question, but most of the sharp derisiveness in the response had soothed and settled into something softer again almost immediately afterwards. "Yeah," she said, "me. I'm not good at this, Irene. It's just not something that comes natural to me! You know I love a challenge, but not like this. It's hard and difficult and doesn't make a lick of sense, and, usually, I'm either mucking it all up or the other person does me a blessing by getting to the leaving part before I get the chance to!"

She sighed, and hoped she could just leave it at that, but she knew better, on a day like today, and she really had to think of a way to start getting this off of her so much.

"I think it's just easier, too," she said, "to just muck it up and move on and get back to more important things that make sense..."

[begmetwice]

"Well, yes, that part sounds very Amaya," she agreed, having to smile a little at the way that particular truth formed itself as a thought. "But -- this is also important, babes. You're important. I am, too."

We know, Irene.

"And we all muck things up in our own ways," she added. "I'm a bloody disaster when it comes to this stuff, I just hide it pretty well. But maybe if we know we're both trying not to muck it up, it'll...help?"

She looked a little pained, momentarily, because an errant thought about just how much of a disaster Irene was had drifted across her mind, and she needed all thoughts of him and I AM _ _ _ _ LOCKED and what she'd lost to stay obediently buried today, thank you.

[special_rabbit]

"If you're a disaster when it comes to this sort of thing," Amaya said, and this time, her snort built into a huff of a marveling, skeptical laugh, but it was...oddly reassuring, that realization that, impossible as it seemed, it wasn't as if Irene could be lying to her about it right now, "I don't even want to know what that makes me. Because you're wonderful."

Even the soft, almost awe way in which her tone shifted with the word betrayed any attempts to not sound too mushy about it, so enjoy this open display of gushing while you could, Adler, it was not likely to come out of her again any time soon after this!

[begmetwice]

You know what? Maybe truth day was her favorite, now. Because yeah, Irene fully expected a total lack of gushing -- quite possibly never another single utterance of any L-words, even -- on every other normal day hence.

Because that's the thing, right? She didn't actually fall in love with Truth Day Amaya, she fell in love with regular, stubborn, I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about-what-even-is-a-feeling Amaya.

But it was still so nice to hear. So, so nice to hear.

"I wasn't always so wonderful," Irene told her, a faint, pleased pinkness creeping up her neck all the same. And that shouldn't have been a revelation, of course, but -- "Not just with the blackmail stuff, I mean. Bad girlfriend and all, right? But you're wonderful enough yourself to make good behavior worth it."

With, perhaps, an occasional spot of bad behavior, and that was probably Irene's cue to lean in for another kiss, right?