Sunshine

"Good. That makes two of us."

I turned in her arms and pulled myself to her.

"Thank you for finding me."

I heard the soft laugh, and pushed in closer to her as she tightened her grip on me.

"You're welcome," she breathed. "I definitely got the better deal."

"No," I said softly. "Definitely not."

"So..." she whispered.

"Mm?"

"Do you want to stay the night?"

"Are you seriously going to kick me out?"

She laughed. "And make you do the walk of shame?"

"I wouldn't put it past you..."

"Mm. Maybe. But no. I... I want you to stay here with me."

I pulled back, stared up at her, at the suddenly intense and serious expression she wore.

"Are you sure?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said softly. "Dead certain."

"OK."

"Is that all you have to say on the matter?"

"I brought spare panties," I admitted, flushing. "So I'm good for tomorrow..."

She laughed loudly. "Planning ahead. I like that."

"Oh, you know... I had hopes for the evening..."

"And were they met?"

"No."

"No? Really?" she said. "Explain yourself, miss."

"They were beaten by such a large margin that I think they gave up and got back on the bus and went home in disgrace. The town newspaper lampooned them."

She laughed softly. "You've got a lovely sense of humour, you know. I'm going to enjoy getting to know you better."

"Ditto, I suspect," I breathed. "Natasha..."

"Tash, babe."

"I just love your name. Natasha."

"Mm. I have to admit that I love the way it sounds when you say it..."

"Good," I smiled into her neck. "I'm glad."

I leaned against her, enjoying the way she slowly rubbed her hands up and down my back, enjoying the way I fitted her so perfectly...

Enjoying the way I felt wanted.

I took a breath, sighed it out.

"Natasha? I'm... tired. Can... can we go to bed?"

"To sleep?" she teased.

"Not... just yet," I admitted, flushing.

And she laughed, and took my hand, and led me away.

.:.

Still asleep, I shifted, rolled over, threw out my arm, and encountered warm skin.

Someone grumbled and moved next to me.

I opened a bleary eye, and for a few moments tried to work out where I was...

The faint scent of citrus... and I relaxed.

I was with her.

She lay on her tummy beside me, head turned away from me, her waves of night-dark hair jet-black in the gloom where they lay on her bare shoulders.

The covers had shifted off us, exposing the curve of her back and hip.

I snuck a glance at her bedside clock; it was still early, and there was nothing chasing me.

She made a noise in her sleep, shifted slightly.

I stared at her perfect skin, at her beautiful neck...

Natasha.

My angel.

I closed my eyes, blinking back the sudden tears.

To be wanted by someone so lovely...

I felt unworthy. Unspeakably grateful, but... unworthy.

I formed a conviction to show her with every breath I drew how thankful I was for her...

"Mia," she mumbled.

I swallowed. "Hey," I breathed. I reached out to touch her shoulder, and she made a small happy noise. "Go back to sleep. I'm here, sorry for waking you."

"I heard you moving," she mumbled. She groaned, lifted her head, and turned to face me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Promise?" she yawned.

"Uh huh. Just... counting my blessings."

"And getting your perving in while I can't object, no doubt," she added sleepily.

"... Maybe."

"Mm. Flirt. Come here and hold me and go back to sleep. It's too early."

I moved closer in, put my hand on her back, slowly stroked it along her spine.

She shivered.

"Mia," she breathed. "That's... that's not.... going to sleep. Just come here and hold me, love..."

I pulled myself in against her, and held her to me for a breath, for two.

Then she turned her face, and nuzzled against me, and relaxed with a soft groan.

And, content, I lay beside her and closed my eyes once more, and was lulled back to sleep by the soft sound of her gentle breathing.

.:.

Someone kissed my cheek.

I groaned, shifted.

"Hey babe," she whispered.

"Mm..." I managed.

Soft laughter, and a kiss to the nape of my neck that made me shiver.

"It's morning, lover."

"No," I whispered. "Not."

"It is."

"Isn't."

She trailed fingers down my back, and I shivered again.

"Come. We can't lurk the whole morning away, honey. I've got stuff I've got to do today, and you need to go get ready for the week."

"Don't want to..."

Lips, teeth on the nape of my neck.

"Tash," I groaned. "Stop."

"Spoilsport," she breathed. I smiled, then groaned as I felt her weight settle on my bum.

She put her hands to my back, slowly slid them up to my shoulders and back down again. "If you're good today, I'll have time to see you tonight again," she whispered.

"I don't want to leave," I protested.

"I know."

I felt her shift, and her lips brushed my cheek.

"But needs must," she continued. "No rest for the wicked."

"You'd know," I yawned.

"Indeed," she laughed softly. "Come on, honey. Your choice of breakfast..."

"You," I mumbled, and smiled as she laughed and leaned forward to hold herself to me.

"I need a recovery period," she breathed. "I'm a bit... tender. Out of practice."

"I'll use my tongue next time," I whispered.

"Stop taunting me," she said as she lifted free of me.

"Never."

Groaning, I rolled onto my side and levered myself up off the bed. I spat hair out of my mouth, and she laughed as I tried to sort out my rats nest.

I reached out, got my arm around her, and pulled her in for a hug. "Thank you," I breathed.

"For?"

"Last night."

"Oh, back at you. I had fun. It was... fantastic."

"Mm. Yeah. Um... where's my dress?"

"Living room floor. You can borrow some of my clothes if you like?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course. Here's a tee shirt and I'll find you some tracksuit pants... they may be slightly long but they'll fit your bum. We're the same size, mostly..."

"You're just far hotter..."

"Mia," she sighed. "Stop that. Stop summoning that negativity. You're beautiful. I adore your body. Don't belittle it or my love for it."

"OK... sorry. Bad habit."

"Learned behaviour from...her?"

"Mm."

She squeezed my shoulder. "Here," she added. "Put these on. Want me to drive you home?"

"Um... yeah, that would... I'd like that."

"Good. It's on my way anyway."

"Oh, where..."

"To see my parents," she said with a smile.

"Oh... nice."

"Do you see yours often?"

"Not as... often as I should."

"Mm. Change that," she said, as she touched my cheek. "Life is short. Just a brief stretch and then we're gone."

"Yes, mum," I said tartly, and she slapped my bum with a grin.

She drove me the middling distance home, and pinned me against the wall outside my front door as she kissed me silly. I clung to her, shuddering, panting for air after she released me. She was smiling, a wild, carefree grin that banished all my shadows, and she laughed exultantly when I completely muddled my attempt to say goodbye.

"Call me later," she whispered with a grin. "Let me know when to come by and what to bring."

"Just you," I managed. "I just want you."

"Flirt," she smiled as she turned away. "I'll get you back. See you later. Mwa, mwa."

And I leaned there, unmoving, heart full of fierce joy as I watched her drive away.

.:.

I plucked my eyebrows, neatening and thinning them. I washed my hair. I shaved my armpits and my legs and neatened and pruned my straggly pubic hair into something less wild and more... landscaped.

I dug out my nice canvas trousers, the white ones with the baby-blue weave that curved with me and always earned me longing glances. I paired them with my favourite tank-top, a sea-grey one with black scrollwork on the hem.

I started to bind my hair up, then remembered how she'd complimented it down. I brushed the knots and tangles free, and made a mental note to find a decent hairdresser.

I eyed myself in the mirror, and smiled.

I looked good. She'd approve.

I ate brunch, found a novel I'd partly finished, and had just settled in to read when there was a knock at the door.

I paused, puzzled. Surely not Tash; surely she'd have phoned, unless she was trying to surprise me...

And then I heard the keys in the lock...

A knot of fury rose up in me.

I stood, slowly and deliberately, took a deep breath, and waited.

The door opened, and Amelie paused in the portal, staring at me.

"Amelie," I said.

"Hi," she managed, after a moment. "Oh... wow... you... you look really nice..."

"What do you want?" I said.

"Mia..."

"What do you want, Amelie?"

She flinched.

"Can I... at least come in?"

"You have keys," I answered. I turned away, walked to the window and stared out.

I heard her close the door; I heard her take several slow steps into the apartment.

"Where's Jenny?" I said.

"Not... here."

"Why?"

"We... it wasn't..."

"It wasn't what, Amelie?"

"It was a... a mistake."

"Is that why you're here, then? To tell me it was a mistake? That this was all a mistake, some small little thing we did wrong? Ha ha, oh how foolish, silly us?"

"Mia..."

"What do you want?"

"Mia, please."

"Please what?"

"Can't we... talk?"

"About what?"

"About... us..."

I started to laugh. I turned to look at her and then, ashamed at the shock and bitter hurt on her face, turned away and tried to gain control of myself.

"Sorry," I managed. "Sorry, that was... I didn't mean..."

"I'm sorry too," she whispered. "I was stupid, and selfish. I see that now. I... Please, Mia. Please. I want you back, Mia."

I took a long, slow breath.

"Why?" I said, curious.

"Because I... love you."

I watched her for some time, watched the way she knotted her fingers, the way she shifted from foot to foot, watched how the last remaining colour drained from her face when she realised I was not going to react as she'd probably hoped I might...

"That's the first time you've said those words," I said softly. "In nearly a year. And it took, what, you walking out on me to make you finally say them?"

"Mia..."

"How long were you fucking her, Amy?"

"I... we..."

"How. Long. Were you fucking her," I repeated, slowly and deliberately.

"A month, but Mia, please, it wasn't..."

"A month."

I turned away again.

"Was I worth so little to you?" I said softly.

"Melissa, please, please, I'm begging..."

"No."

I took a breath, let it out.

"No, I'm done with this charade. I loved you, Amelie. I loved you with all of me. I told you that many times. But you never took it seriously. You never took me seriously. I was convenient. My love was... convenient."

"Melissa..." she gulped.

"I'm not going to fight with you. Not any more. I don't want you back. I don't want your cast-off scraps, the dregs of affection you can spare me while you shop around for excitement elsewhere. I don't want to be the girl you come back to after your... mistakes."

"Mia, I love you, please..."

"No, Amelie," I said sadly. "I think you love the idea of me. And that's just not enough for me any more."

She took a shuddering breath, and I felt bitterly sorry for the hurt I knew I was causing her.

But there was no help for it, and there was only one more thing to say.

"I'd like my keys back," I told her, softly.

She made a horrible sound and clutched her chest, and I think that was the point she realised that we were done for good.

She was strong; she didn't cry, though I could see how hard it was for her to control the gulping shaking tremors that racked her.

She slowly fumbled a hand into her pocket, and pulled out a keyring.

"Here," she managed. She held it out to me, then took a shuddering breath as I did not move to take it.

"Put it there on the table, please," I said.

"Are you really... going to be this heartless? Are you really not even going to... touch my hand?"

"No," I said softly. "You lost the right to be touched by me when you touched her."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. I watched the tears track slowly down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Amelie. It was really good. It really was. But I'm not right for you, and you're not right for me. Thank you for showing me that. Here. I packed your stuff for you."

"OK," she said, soft and hopeless.

I pulled the battered rucksack out of the cupboard. "I think this is it all," I said. "If there's anything else I'll drop it by at your flat for you. Keep the rucksack, I don't need it any more."

"OK," she whispered.

She took it from me, careful not to touch me, and turned wretchedly away.

I sighed.

It wasn't right to end it like this. There was no need for it to be this cruel for her, no matter what she'd done to me...

"Amelie?"

"What," she said, miserably.

"You'll find someone who's right for you."

"Will I?"

"I believe in you."

She gave me a broken look, and pity moved me to be gentle.

So I went to her, and hugged her tightly one last time, and kissed her forehead - an act of benediction or forgiveness, I couldn't rightly say. She groaned, and turned away to fumble, sobbing, at the door. I held it for her, let her leave, but didn't watch her go and didn't even think of asking her to stay...

She was no longer my responsibility.

I sighed out a slow, sad breath.

I pitied her. She'd made a stupid decision.

I hoped she'd be OK.

I waited until her footsteps had faded quite away, then locked the door and slowly and deliberately removed the small French tricolour from the keyring that she had returned to me.

I carried it to the bin and opened the lid, then paused, considered, and set it aside instead.

Memories were precious. Some day I might want to remember the slender girl who I'd thought had irreparably broken my heart.

I poured myself a glass of wine, and leaned against my counter top, and ran our final conversation through my mind.

I'd been harsh. But at least I'd not been vindictive...

I needed to talk to Natasha. I needed to hear her voice.

She needed to know what I'd done.

I fumbled for my phone and dialled her.

"Tash?" I said softly, when she picked up.

"Hey honey, just on my way to the car..."

"Tash... we need to talk."

"... Oh..."

She paused.

"Is this an oh fuck kind of talk?"

"Yeah," I said softly. "It's very definitely an oh fuck kind of talk. But it's something I need to tell you about something that just happened here, not something about you and me. Or at least, I really, really hope not..."

"OK. I'm sitting. Let... let me have it."

"Amelie was just here..."

"O...kay. OK. Fuck. And..."

"She came to beg to have me back. She said that she loves me."

"... Right. Right. OK. And..."

"And I took my keys back from her and gave her her shit and told her that anything else I find of hers will make its way back to her."

"... Oh."

"I don't want her back, Tash. I don't. I want you. I needed to tell you this the moment it happened. I don't want secrets from you. Ever."

There was a horrible silence before she finally took a breath and spoke in a small, shaky voice.

"Jesus Christ, Mia. Don't you dare do that to me ever again."

"Do what?" I said, confused.

"I thought you were about to dump me," she whispered. "I know it's stupid. I know we're barely a thing yet. But... here I was, clenching my teeth, digging my nails into my leg to stop myself from literally breaking down in public..."

"What? Why on earth would I be dumping..." I began, in disbelief.

"Mia, Jesus, look at it from my side, right, you just phoned me to tell me that the ex who you were bawling your eyes out over not even a week ago came to beg for you back... how am I supposed to feel about..."

"I love you," I said softly.

"... what?" she breathed.

"I love you," I repeated.

"You... "

"I love you, you ninny," I shouted, taken by a strange mania as the confession freed me. "I love you I love you I love you. I. Love. You. I've known you for less than a week and I am head over heels for you. I love you, Tash. I love you."

"Mia... are... are you drunk?"

"I love you. I've loved you from the moment you found me. I lost my heart to you the moment you first took me in your arms. I fell for you the moment you came into my life. I love the earth you walk on, the sun you bask in, the rain that falls on your face. I love the stars that shine on you, the clouds that drift through the sky over you, the wind in your hair, the smile you smile when you see me."

I gasped a breath.

"I love you enough to tell you I love you when every instinct, every sense of self-preservation that I have tells me that I am an idiot and that you will never, ever keep me long enough to love me back. I will love you with my dying breath, I love you with the scent of fresh snow, with every stupid little cell in my stupid idiot heart..."

"Mia... love, are you... crying?"

I found that I was hunched forward, gulping, bracing myself against my counter top.

"Oh," I managed. "Shit..."

"Where are you?"

"At home. Kitchen."

"I'll be there soon. Hold that thought. Don't you dare go anywhere. I'm coming to you. I'm coming to you right now, you hear me? Right now."

"...kay..."

"I'll be right there."

And she hung up, and I stumbled to the couch, and wrapped my arms around myself and rocked and shivered and sniffed as I waited for her to come home.

I held it together as I let her into the building. I held it together as I let her into my flat.

But when she kicked the door closed behind her I fell into her arms, and I sobbed like my entire family had just died as she enfolded me and pressed her cheek to me and simply and gently repeated nothing but my name.

.:.

"Tea," she breathed as she set it down in front of me.

"I'm such a fucking mess..." I whispered.

"You're my mess. Did you really say all those things to her?"

"Yeah."

"I'm so proud of you."

"Why?"

"For standing up for yourself."

"I... hurt her"

"Maybe. But it was the truth, wasn't it? And you weren't needlessly cruel or callous, were you?"

"No..."

"Then it's fair."

She put her arm around me. "So," she added softly.

"Mm."

"Did you really mean the other stuff?"

"What... other stuff."

"What you said... to me."

I stared up at her. Then, not trusting myself to speak, I simply nodded once.

She sighed and leaned her face in against me.

"You got me. I surrender," she whispered.

"... what?"

"I will never, ever be able to top that. Never. No matter how hard I try, I will never be able to capture the sense of wonder I felt when you said those things to me."

"You should have written them down," I sniffed. "Can't really remember any of what I was ranting about..."

"I do, and I will, forever."

She kissed my cheek, and sat back, and brushed at her eyes.

"So, Mia... there's something I'd like to give you, if you'd let me..."

"... what is it?"

"Keys," she said. She brushed at her eyes again as she fumbled in her bag. "Here," she said, as she pushed something metallic into my hand. "Here are mine. I'd like... I want you to have them. So you can come to me when you like. Whether I'm there or not. I'd like to know you feel at home... with me..."

I stared down at the keys and the chain and the small silver harp, so beautifully embossed and bordered with a delicate scrollwork Éire. They lay nestled quite comfortably in my palm, as if they belonged there.

"Mam bought that keyring for me the first time we were in Ireland. I'd... I'd like you to keep it safe for me until... you don't want them any more."

"I... can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I can only take them if I get to keep them... and you... until forever."

"Oh, Melissa," she whispered. "You always know just what to say to me."

She pulled me to her.