"Oh my, it's a little stronger than usual." She coughs after her first sip. "Sorry- I just wanted to try something different." I say. "Is it too much?" "No." She smiles at me. "It's just fine." We both take another sip. I can't stop looking at her. She came out of the shower and right to the table; now she sits in front of me, wearing only her towel. Her bare shoulders seem to gleam under the light and I watch her bones move as she raises her cup. "You're staring at me." "Sorry." I can't help it. "What are you thinking?" She looks at me and arches an eyebrow. I feel myself blushing and look down at my tea. "So...what did I break earlier?" She turns her head and looks. "Did you find it?" "The print over the bookshelf." "Hmmm. I wonder if the museum still carries it." she muses quietly, sipping her tea. I find myself staring at her again. I look down when she looks at me, swirling the last of my tea in the cup. "We are such fools." she shakes her head. Fools? For some reason, this makes me angry. I do not want to be called a fool for loving Mireille. "Finished?" her voice interrupts my thought. I nod and she stands and gathers up our cups. Foolish. I am not a fool. A fool could not have lived through the trials that I have faced, that we have faced. "I'm going to do the dishes then." she walks toward the kitchen and stops in the doorway. "Not coming with me?" her voice sounds surprised. "We're not fools." I blurt out angrily. She sighs. She doesn't turn to look at me, and I refuse to get up from my chair. "Then what are we...Noir?" I think for a moment. All I am, all I want to be, is with Mireille. "No. We are...Mireille and Kirika. Just Mireille and Kirika, living our lives together." "Together..." her voice is so low, I can barely hear her. Her head goes down and she seems to freeze for a moment. Then I hear her shuffling the cups, moving her upper body. Her head jerks up and her towel falls to the floor. "Then let's do the dishes together, Kirika." her voice is soft and has a tone to it that makes my stomach tighten. She glances over her shoulder at me, giving me a look I've never seen before, but one that I feel, that makes my breath quicken. She disappears into the kitchen. I get up slowly, feeling as if I'm in some sort of dream. I grip the doorway as I see her standing naked in front of the sink. The same sort of dizziness and surges of energy I got the night she posed for me are now crackling through my body. I feel clumsy as I move forward, arms outstretched, and I cautiously wrap myself around her. She makes no sound, offers no resistance; her invitation is real, as real as the blood rushing through my body, causing my skin to flush. I lay my burning cheek on the cool smoothness of her back. Instead of soothing me, it only serves to increase the urgent energy I'm feeling. I step back and quickly strip off my shirt, tossing it onto the floor. I encircle her again and press myself into her. She gasps out loud and I feel her body tense, then relax as I slowly move against her, reveling in the feel of her skin on mine. My lips touch her back cautiously, the memory of my last attempt still on my mind. She smells wonderful, and I'm breathing her in, kissing her into my very presence of being, moving freely now, trailing down her side and around to her front. She backs up a little, giving me room. I run my tongue slowly under her breast, feeling the weight of her on my mouth. I open my mouth and take her in, surprised to feel a hardness under the tip of my tongue- everywhere else she has been so soft. My teeth test this hardness and I hear her yelp, then soapy hands are in my hair and she's pulling my head up. "Sorry." I gasp out. She leans in and kisses me, pressing my back painfully into the counter. I feel her hands tighten in my hair, so tight I feel tears in my eyes. She pulls my head back again and looks at me. "If you ever leave me, I will hunt you down and kill you. I swear." "That day...will never happen." I answer her softly. "I swear." She releases her grip, and pushes my mouth back down to her breast. "Let's get back to work then." her voice sounds playful. Her body seems to envelop mine as her arms go back to the dishes. I sink into her, my love, my life; before Mireille...there were no memories, other than of death; no accomplishments other than of sin; I cherish this love, I deserve this love- and I will claim it, all of it, with lips and teeth and tongue, claim it as my own.
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