Falling

"What?"

"You. You're smart, funny, gentle, gorgeous, and you smell like literal heaven. I will never, ever have to put up with anything about you. Everything about you is magical."

"You're just saying that to get me into bed with you..."

She glanced briefly around, then gave me an are-you-serious look.

"Which seems to have worked," I added, wryly.

"Funny that," she drawled, as she found my right nipple and slowly started to tease a fingertip around it.

My stomach shuddered.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you," she said, amused.

"Uh huh."

"So tell me about how wet you are."

"We're talking... Lake District in winter here. I am going to need... new leggings," I moaned.

"Let's see what I can do about that, then..."

She lowered her lips to my breast. I arched slowly backwards as she languidly began to lick and nuzzle against my nipple. I felt her hand shifting downwards over my ribs and tummy, and I took a panting gasp as she slowly slipped her hand under the waistband of my tracksuit pants.

The hot pink flush on her cheeks framed the slightly crooked smile she gave me as she pulled back slightly. She stared down at me, mouth slightly open, and I felt her shudder with me as she reached me.

She slowly spread my lips, and teased her fingertips along me.

"Oh, that's nice," she whispered. "Oh, you feel good..."

"Uh huh," I groaned.

"Do you always..."

"No. Struggle. Often need. Lube. But... oh God, I'm so. Hot for you... this is all you..."

"I like that. I like that I got you so eager. So... do... do you want me in you?"

I nodded desperately.

"Beg me..." she teased me.

"No... please...please, " I cried. "Please don't. Torture me... please just take me Bella, please just make me yours... please..."

And then I just lay there, shuddering helplessly, crying out as she slowly eased her finger all the way into me. She added a second digit to me, and I made some sort of uncontrollable noise that set her giggling again.

"I love how expressive you are."

"Can't help it. God. Can't help it. Want you. So much..." I wailed, writhing and grinding against her.

"I'm going to make you see stars, Izzy," she whispered.

"Just... fuck me... already... please..." I begged her in desperation. I spread my legs as wide as I could and fumbled at her hand, trying to drive it deeper into me. "Bella, please, I need you, please, oh please..."

She put her face to the side of my head and pushed herself against me. Slowly, achingly slowly, she began to ease her fingers in and out of me.

And she laughed softly into my neck at the pathetic, uncontrolled noises I made.

I swiftly lost the ability to do anything except lie there - an entirely passive recipient - bar the low moans, which were all I could manage at first. I could feel the joints of her fingers spreading me with each languid thrust she gave me. Her palm brushed gently against my clit with each movement she made, and each time she did so my belly spasmed.

It had been so long since I was last with someone, and she was so, so good at it...

I was panting little soft whimpery breaths, and I fumbled for her, pressed her hand harder against me. She wormed her free arm under me and gathered me in against her and slowly, maddeningly, she began to kiss my neck, to nibble my earlobe.

I forced my finger in under her hand and started to stroke myself, and that made her arch hard against me with a low moan.

"Need... need..." I gasped. "More. Harder..."

She increased the tempo, started to thrust her fingers in and out of me. It was hotter than anything I could remember - better than any cock, better than my toy, better than anything I'd ever felt before.

I was building fast, panting hard, sweating and so achingly slick for her, for Bella, and she took me, drove me up... up... and over, and she grappled me and wrapped herself around me, cocooning me with her body as I shuddered and spasmed and gasped and cried through the beautiful agony of the wonderful orgasm she gave me.

Then I clung to her for quite some time, utterly unable and, really, completely unwilling to let her go.

.:.

"You ok?" she asked, softly.

"Just perfect," I whispered. "Just... appreciating what that was..."

I wriggled in closer, smiling at her soft laugh.

"It's been ages since I had someone to be like this with. Lazy. Half-clothed. Post-orgasmic. Spent. You spent me," I giggled. "No change."

"Mm. Almost the same for me," she agreed. She breathed in, then out. "God, I love the way you smell. Soft. Warm. Safe..."

"Mm. Well. I'm glad. I'm glad I can be your safe place."

I slowly trailed my hand down over her back, and smiled to myself at the way her muscles twitched. She squealed and quickly grabbed my hand to freeze it in place.

"You're ticklish," I breathed, amused, filing that tidbit away for later abuse.

"Always am... especially after sex," she shuddered. "My skin and extremities go bonkers. I get hypersensitive to touch. Makes everything feel a million times more present..."

"Sounds nice. I just get giggly and relaxed."

"You are doing a good puddle of happiness impression right now," she agreed.

"Can't help it. Had sex. With you."

She laughed, and pushed herself in against me. "I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it."

"So much," I groaned. "It... it was just what I wanted. Just what I'd dreamed of."

"Mm. So..."

"So..."

"Does this mean... I mean... are we..."

"Are we... what?"

"An... item?" she said, softly.

I lifted my head so I could focus on her face. "I'd like to think that we are. Don't you want to be?"

She smiled and relaxed, clearly relieved.

"No. I mean yes. As in I'd like that. I'd... I'd like to be able to think of you that way. As my..."

"Nice new gym girlfriend?" I teased her gently.

"It was a stupid choice of words. I'm sorry," she breathed.

"It's fine. I'll forgive you. So long as hot gets inserted in there somewhere too."

"Oh. It does, trust me. I'm sure I could find other things to insert too..."

"Uh huh," I moaned. "Not right now you won't. I need a recovery period. Possibly measured in years..."

She let out an amused "Hah".

I felt for her hand and pulled it to my lips so that I could kiss it. Then I cupped it against my heart and lay there, quiet and content.

"You know one of the things I've always liked about you?" she said, softly. "Apart from your absolutely amazing bum, of course?"

"What?"

"The fact that you're real."

"Hmm?"

"So many of the women at that gym are completely fake. Fake nails, fake smiles, fake faces, fake hair, fake personalities for when they're seeing their 'fitness consultant'. You've never pretended to be what you're not. You've always just been... you."

"I don't have the money or patience to be anyone else."

"Well. It's a pleasure to see, and I've always approved."

"So you were checking out my bum, hmm?"

"All the time," she confessed. "Those leggings of yours... well... lets just say you were always fun to watch. And I did a whole lot of watching."

I smiled. "Glad I was a nice floor show for you..."

"Izzy... are you falling asleep on me?"

"No. Not entirely. Just... feeling so relaxed, and... content. Just here with you. With nothing intruding. It's... nice. Feeling you breathing next to me like this. No... complexities. Just... you and me."

"Yeah. I think I know exactly what you mean..."

She yawned, loudly, and I grinned to myself.

"It's been a long day, hasn't it," I said.

"Yes."

"So... how about we kill the lights and sleep for a bit. You can have me again in the morning... if you're good."

"Promises, promises," she whispered, and I shivered as she leaned in to kiss my cheek.

It was a lot more comfortable lying beside her when we weren't trying to keep an artificial space between us. She crawled in close and held me, and I fell asleep in soft fluffy happiness with the soft skin of her arm pressing, not uncomfortably, against the underside of my breasts.

And, true to my word, I let her have me again in the morning.

.:.

Annabelle pushed her door open and slunk in.

"Fuck," she said, stopping just inside her flat.

I craned my head and stared past her.

"Jesus," I breathed.

"She... fuck, she went berserk. She's... she's broken everything..."

I watched her nervously, hoping that Freya was not hiding somewhere, poised to leap out with a chef's knife. Then I swallowed and entered the flat, pulling the door closed behind me.

We'd braved the trip so that Bella could get some fresh clothes and, as she said, "price up the redecorating work I'll need to do".

We couldn't leave until she was done.

Still, neither of us had expected quite this level of spectacle.

We stared around ourselves.

Shards of numerous bowls and plates littered the floor, and glass from a smashed mirror glittered prettily in the pale morning sunlight. Papers and books lay strewn everywhere, as did cushions and a substantial amount of Annabelle's nicer clothing.

"Well. Good thing we weren't here," she said. She sighed and prodded a ripped lace bra with a toe. "So much unnecessary drama. I'm glad I'm free of her."

"She was hurting," I said softly. "She probably couldn't help it. I feel... almost sorry for her. I know she's wrecked your place but... it can't have been easy for her either, Bella."

Bella shot me a glance. "You're far too nice for your own good, you know. But... you're right," she sighed. "I forget, sometimes, that there were two of us in this mess... There's a broom in the kitchen cupboard. Let me just get to it and I'll get started on the debris."

"Got a vacuum cleaner?"

"No. Never felt the need. I do regret that now, though."

I began picking up shattered pieces of bowls, stepping carefully wherever Bella had cleared a path and leaving the rest of the floor free to her. She quickly cleared the worst of the debris and swept the rest into a pile to be dealt with later. Slowly we cleared a path to the short passageway that led to her bathroom and bedroom. She paused and briefly glanced into the bathroom, then sighed and turned away, pulling the door half-closed behind her. I followed her to her bedroom, taking a quick glance, noting the "Lying whore!!!" scrawled in scarlet lipstick on the bathroom mirror.

"Well, she was certainly angry," I said softly.

"At least she took her stuff. At least she's gone. But I'll need to change the locks; she probably still has a key."

Annabelle's voice was flat, wooden. She was staring at the chaos of her bedroom. She took one slow step in and knelt unsteadily so that she could pick up a shattered picture frame. "Now that was unnecessary," she whispered. She lowered it reverently onto her bedside table and started to sweep up more glass shards.

I brushed past her and looked at the picture. A pre-teen Annabelle stared up; behind her stood an older darker-haired clone of her with her arms around Annabelle's shoulders.

"My mum," Bella whispered to my unspoken question. "She... died a couple of years ago. I'm glad Freya found a convenient way to get one last stab in."

"Oh Bella... I'm so, so sorry..."

"It's ok. It's just glass and wood. I can fix it, and glue the frame. At least the photo is still whole; at least she didn't go there."

I gently put my hand on her shoulder and she turned and came to me. She didn't cry; she just leaned tiredly against me, face tucked into my neck, breathing slowly.

"Bella? Talk to me," I said, gently rubbing her back.

"Can't. Not now. Not here. I need to... to get the worst back under control and go buy some incense and come and air her out of here and chase out the darkness she's left behind..."

"I'll pick up bits, you sweep," I said softly. I kissed her forehead and let her go, then got to work.

The damage wasn't as bad as it had first seemed; the laminate floors were easy to free from shards, and it seemed that Freya had been more intent on knocking things over as a dramatic demonstration of her sense of betrayal as opposed to investing effort in truly wrecking Annabelle's mementos.

I picked up trophies and medals and awards, lined them up neatly on the folds of the duvet, and did one more check for anything else. I spotted one more picture frame under the bed and reached for it, cursing softly as I nicked my finger on a shard we'd missed.

I sucked the bead of blood off my fingertip, then glanced down at the picture... and exhaled. An immaculately-coiffed Freya stared serenely up at the camera from buttercup-stippled grass; Annabelle lay beside her, holding Freya's hand, smiling her small, sweet, gap-toothed smile.

"What is it... oh..." Annabelle said.

I turned it over, saw the personal message there and looked away before I could read it - it was not intended for me; Bella would share it if she ever wanted to. I looked up at Bella; she was watching me, unnaturally still - clearly waiting for me to explode or rant or... react in the violent, confrontational way she was so conditioned to expect.

It broke my heart to see how instinctive her reaction was - how deeply the anticipation of her ex-partner's violent persona had twined itself around her like chains.

I hoped that I would be able to help her break them.

"You should fix this one too," I told her softly. I put it down beside everything else, then wiped my bleeding finger on my thigh. "But please be careful, the glass is razor sharp."

She sighed out a shaky breath.

"Izzy... you're bleeding..."

"It will heal. Most things do."

She stared at me, not quite understanding me. "But that's... it's... it's her..."

"It's a picture, Bella, of a memory of the two of you that was important enough for you to frame. Memories make us who we are. I could never ask you to throw away your memories; nor would I ever want to. You can hang it up if you want, it's your flat and your space. Just... I'd prefer it were not in the bedroom, please," I added with a small, wry smile. "I don't want her glaring at me while we're making love..."

She came slowly came around the bed to me.

She took a single, sobbing breath and I wrapped my arms around her and held her to me.

"If ever I needed to know that you're one in a million," she whispered after a while, "that moment right there would have been it. God, you're an amazing woman. I feel so lucky to have met you."

"She was part of your life. I respect that. I don't have to like her, or all the horrible scars she's left on you. But she was part of your life. And that's important."

I pulled back and stared down at her. "But I'm part of your life too, now. So. Let's finish clearing up, and go find that incense, and air the darkness out of this place so that you can have your own haven again. I want you to have somewhere you can be yourself in if you need to."

"Ok," she whispered.

"Ok? Is that all?" I teased.

"Sorry. Just..."

"I'm teasing you, sweetie."

She flushed a wonderful pink and looked away. But she took my hand in hers and held it tightly.

"Come. Lets find some unbroken cups and have a coffee. Then we can go get what we need to air and secure your home. Then..."

"Then we can... start on making some new memories," she said, softly.

"Yeah. Together."

She pulled me against her and looked up at me. She risked a small smile.

"So... want to come with me, then?" she said.

"Yes. Wherever and whenever."

"Ok then."

So we went, and had our coffee, and bought the incense, and changed the locks, and did all the million little things that new couples do as they grow to know one another.

And, what with one thing and another, she never did get around to hanging that picture.