Untitled

Paige was still annoyed.

The game had been over for nearly ten minutes. Usually, that was enough time for her brain to move on, to start dissecting the actual basketball instead of whatever else had gotten under her skin.

Not tonight. Tonight, her brain kept circling back to Olivia Miles.

Annoying.

Mostly because Paige knew better.

She wasn't new to this. She knew exactly what opponents were trying to do when they talked. Get a reaction. Break her focus. Pull her into something that had nothing to do with basketball.

Usually, she was better than that. 

But Olivia had been running her mouth at Jess all night, and after Azzi hit the floor earlier in the game?

Yeah, Paige had enough. 

Because that was the thing.

Paige could handle people talking to her. Actually, she expected it. She was Paige Bueckers. People wanted to get under her skin.

Fine.

But when it was her teammates?

When it was Azzi?

That was different.

And maybe Paige knew she was being dramatic. Maybe she knew Azzi could handle herself. Maybe she knew Olivia probably wasn’t thinking about it nearly as much as she was.

Didn't matter. Paige couldn't let it go.

Olivia stayed in her head for the rest of the game, which was exactly what Paige hated. Especially as the Wings started clawing their way back, slowly closing the gap and giving everyone just enough hope before letting the game slip away anyway.

Of course.

Paige tried not to dwell on it as she walked off the court, but that was impossible. Her brain was already doing what it always did after a loss.

Replaying every possession.

Every mistake.

Every moment she could have handled differently.

And somehow, mixed in with every basketball mistake, Olivia’s face kept showing up.

Which was ridiculous.

Because Paige did not care about Olivia Miles.

She didn’t.

She cared about the game. She cared about losing. She cared about her teammates.

That was all.

By the time she reached the locker room, the noise of the crowd still echoed faintly through the concrete hallway, and she was still carrying the frustration with her.

Azzi was watching her carefully, head tilted slightly, concern written on her face.

Paige hated that Azzi could read her so easily.

She hated it.

She also loved it.

But Azzi always knew.

Paige gave the smallest shake of her head, a silent conversation passing between them.

Not now.

Not when Paige was still too annoyed to explain why she was annoyed.

Azzi held her gaze for another second before nodding, letting it go.

For now.

By the time Paige finally walked into their apartment, the frustration was still sitting right there beneath the surface.

Usually, Paige was already halfway through explaining a possession before she’d even taken her shoes off. Tonight, she didn’t say anything. She just stood there for a second, keys still in her hand, like she’d walked through the door but hadn’t actually left the game behind.

Then she saw Azzi in the kitchen, standing at the counter with her back half-turned, heating something up for them to eat.

Azzi seemed lighter than Paige felt.

"Hey, you," Azzi said when she noticed her, an easy smile pulling at her lips.

Paige didn't answer.

Instead, she crossed the kitchen, closing the distance between them, and slipped her arms around Azzi's waist from behind. She rested her chin on Azzi's shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

Azzi smiled softly, leaning back into her without saying anything.

Usually, this was the part where Paige started breaking down every possession. The missed rotations. The questionable whistle in the third quarter. The shot she'd forced with six minutes left because apparently she and patience weren't on speaking terms.

Usually, Azzi would let her pace around the apartment and relive every moment until Paige finally convinced herself the game was over.

Tonight?

Nothing.

Azzi shifted in Paige's arms, turning her head enough to catch a glimpse of her face.

"You're quiet."

Paige shrugged, her cheek brushing against Azzi's shoulder.

"Just tired.”

Close enough.

Azzi studied her for a second, still leaning back against her.

"Long game," Azzi said quietly, rubbing her thumb over Paige's forearm.

Not a question. They'd both felt every second of it.

"Yeah."

Paige let the word hang there.

It was easier than admitting the truth.

That she’d let someone, a rookie, get under her skin.

The silence stretched between them, but Azzi didn't rush to fill it.

"You sure you're okay?" 

Paige looked down, catching Azzi's eyes as she glanced back at her.

"Yeah," Azzi said quietly. "I'm fine."

Paige nodded.

Good. That was all she'd wanted to hear. Or at least, it should've been.

Azzi absentmindedly traced her thumb over Paige's wrist.

"Liv actually apologized."

Paige's arms tightened around her before she even realized she was doing it, her fingers pressing into the fabric of Azzi's sweatshirt.

"...She talked to you?"

Azzi turned a little more in her arms, enough to look back at her properly. There was a small hint of amusement on her face.

"Yeah."

Paige tried to make herself sound casual.

"After the game?"

Azzi’s mouth twitched.

"You're really interested in this."

"I'm just asking."

Azzi tilted her head.

"She asked if I was okay."

A small smile tugged at Azzi's lips.

"She was nice."

Of course she was.

That shouldn't have bothered Paige nearly as much as it did.

She'd watched Olivia spend four quarters getting under everyone's skin.

Now she was apologizing?

To Azzi?

Paige knew she was probably being unfair.

But that didn’t stop the image from bothering her.

Olivia walking over after the game, wearing that innocent little smile and saying all the right things.

Paige frowned slightly as the thought settled in.

Wait.

"You call her Liv?"

The words left her mouth before she'd had the chance to stop them.

Azzi’s brow furrowed, turning more fully in Paige's arms so she could see her face.

"Yeah?"

"Since when?"

Paige immediately regretted how interested she sounded.

"I don't know." Azzi shrugged. "We've talked a few times."

"Huh."

Azzi blinked.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"Paige."

There was a warning in her voice.

Paige sighed, trying to recover.

"I just didn't realize you were on nickname terms."

Azzi leaned back against the counter, folding her arms as she watched Paige unravel.

Then her eyebrows lifted.

"Nickname terms? What does that mean?" 

Yeah.

That had been the wrong thing to say.

She felt Azzi shift in her arms, turning a little more until Paige couldn't just hide behind her shoulder anymore. The conversation had gone from something casual to something Azzi was definitely going to make her explain.

And Paige really did not want to make this a thing.

Because it wasn't.

It wasn't the reason she'd chirped back at Olivia.

It was just...

An extra third thing sitting quietly in the back of her mind.

But Paige noticed.

Of course she did.

She noticed everything when it came to Azzi.

Apparently, she'd been quiet for too long, because Azzi's mouth suddenly twitched.

Then she started laughing.

"Oh my god, Paige. You cannot be serious."

"Stop," Paige protested immediately.

She pulled back just enough to give Azzi a look, even though she knew it wasn't helping her case.

"Come on bro. It's not like that."

Azzi's laughter faded into a smile.

"Not like what?"

Paige opened her mouth, then closed it again.

She didn't actually know what she was trying to argue.

"It's not like I'm—"

"Jealous?"

That was exactly what Paige did not want to be a thing. "I'm not jealous."

Azzi clearly did not believe her at all, and was having a great time calling her out on it.

"Paige."

"You're really bothered because she apologized to me?"

"No."

Azzi watched her carefully.

"Because she was nice to me?"

"No."

A pause.

"Because I called her Liv?"

Paige sighed.

"You keep bringing that up."

"Because you keep reacting to it."

Paige looked away, picking at the seam of her sleeve. 

"It's not what happened."

Azzi smiled sightly.

"Okay."

"It isn't."

"I believe you."

Paige narrowed her eyes.

"You don't."

Azzi reached up and flicked the bill of Paige's cap.

"Not even a little."

Paige let out a sigh, knowing she wasn't winning this argument.

"I just don't like her."

"I know."

And the annoying thing was, Azzi wasn't wrong.

They weren't the kind of people who kept score over every person who walked into their lives. They trusted each other. They knew each other.

Azzi was Azzi.

Paige was Paige.

Olivia wasn't a threat.

That was what made it so frustrating.

Because Paige knew that. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to question, nothing she needed to defend.

And yet somehow, Olivia had gotten under her skin anyway.

Paige eventually let it go.

Mostly.

The season kept moving anyway.

They won their bounce-back game.

Then the one after that.

And the one after that.

The Wings found their rhythm again. The Lynx game faded into just another night in a long season.

Chicago, July 24th All-Star Weekend.

Paige loved All-Star Weekend.

All the WNBA stars in one place. Friends from around the league. People she usually only saw during games finally getting the chance to catch up, laugh, and spend time together without the pressure of a scoreboard.

Tonight was exactly that.

A crowded room full of players, music playing softly in the background, conversations overlapping from every direction. Everyone was dressed a little nicer than usual, away from the jerseys and sneakers and game-day routines.

Paige was exactly where she wanted to be.

She was halfway through a conversation with Angel, laughing about something that had happened earlier in the night, when she saw her.

Olivia.

Across the room.

Talking to Azzi.

Paige's attention slipped before she could stop it.

She missed whatever Angel said next, her eyes already drifting back toward them.

Just checking.

That was all.

It didn't mean anything.

Except then she looked again.

And then again.

And every time she looked over, Olivia was still there.

Still talking to Azzi.

Still making her smile.

Paige forced herself to look back toward Angel, but Angel was already watching her.

Not subtly, either.

Paige blinked.

"What?"

Angel tilted her head, clearly entertained.

There was also a very real possibility the alcohol was making Paige a little more obvious than she would've liked.

"Should I be concerned you’ve got it out for Olivia?"

Paige immediately looked away.

"No."

Angel waited.

Paige picked up her drink, taking a sip mostly so she had something to do with her hands.

"You've looked over there six times."

"I have not."

Angel leaned back against the couch, already looking entertained.

Paige rolled the condensation on her glass between her fingers.

"What?"

"You just did it again."

Paige froze.

She hated that Angel was right.

Before she could stop herself, she looked back across the room.

Olivia was saying something. Azzi laughed.

Again.

"She needs to go home," Paige said.

A little louder than she probably should have.

Angel slowly turned toward her.

"Who?"

Paige looked at her like the answer was obvious.

"Olivia."

Angel blinked.

"To Minnesota?"

Paige groaned, dropping back against the couch.

"I'm about to do something that I don't want to do."

Angel's eyebrows lifted.

"Is that so?"

"Azzi is going to be so mad," Paige said, already knowing that was probably the biggest reason she shouldn't.

"Then don't do it."

Paige opened her mouth.

She had an argument ready.

The problem was she hadn't actually figured out what the argument was.

Because she couldn't exactly say:

I don't like that Olivia is making my girlfriend laugh at a party.

That sounded insane.

Then Olivia leaned slightly toward Azzi and said something that made her laugh again.

Paige felt it immediately.

That little spark of irritation.

Because now it wasn't just that Olivia was talking to her.

She was making Azzi laugh.

Again.

And Paige was done pretending she wasn't bothered.

She  set her drink down a little too hard and stood.

Angel's hand shot out, catching Paige by the forearm before she could get more than a step away.

"Paige."

"No."

"Yes."

"I have to."

"You absolutely do not."

Paige let her gaze drift again across the room.

Azzi was still smiling, still having a perfectly normal conversation.

Which she was.

That was the problem.

"No. I'm going."

She started to stand again.

Angel let out a long sigh, finally releasing her.

"I tried to stop you."

Paige ignored her and marched right over, weaving between clusters of players and nearly brushing shoulders with someone carrying another round of drinks.

Halfway there, she started regretting the fact that she had a very clear destination.

Suddenly she had to make it look like she hadn't crossed the room specifically to interrupt a conversation. Like she'd simply noticed Azzi and decided to say hi.

"Hey, Az," Paige said, sliding into the space beside her, shoulder brushing lightly against hers.

Azzi instinctively stepped a little closer to Paige before realizing why she'd come over.

A look that said she knew.

Not what Paige was thinking exactly, but enough.

Enough to know Paige hadn't just wandered over.

Paige ignored it and turned her attention toward Olivia.

"Olivia."

"Paige."

The silence that followed was painful.

For a second, Paige became painfully aware of everything.

The music.

The people moving around them.

The fact that they were standing in the middle of an All-Star party surrounded by half the league.

And here she was. Interrupting a conversation because she couldn't figure out what Olivia's deal was.

Olivia shifted her drink between her hands before speaking.

"I was actually just saying how I wanted to clear the air between us," Olivia said.

Her voice was calm. Almost gentle.

"I didn't want things to stay weird. I really respect you."

Paige resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

This gimmick.

The soft voice. The careful words. The way Olivia always seemed to know exactly how to make everything sound reasonable.

"Yeah, of course," Paige said. "It's competitive. That's all it is."

Olivia studied her for a second.

Paige didn't look away.

She'd had enough of Olivia acting like she had no idea why Paige was irritated. Enough of the innocent act.

She never looked caught.

Never looked like she had done anything wrong.

Just calm. Just polite.

Like Paige was the only one carrying all of this.

"Yeah, exactly," Olivia said, nodding slightly. "I just wanted to make sure we're good. You know, off the court too."

"You're good," Paige said, the words coming out flatter than she intended.

Olivia shifted her weight.

"Good."

The pause lingered.

Paige suddenly became acutely aware of herself again.

She had walked across the room, inserted herself into a conversation, and now she was just standing there.

Casually.

Olivia seemed to notice the silence before anyone else did.

She shifted her drink to her other hand and glanced between them.

"Anyway, I should probably let you two catch up."

A completely reasonable thing to say.

But Paige still felt her stomach twist.

There was no way to tell if she understood exactly why Paige was standing there, or if she was really just being polite.

"No, you don't have to—" Azzi started.

But Olivia was already smiling.

"No, really."

Her eyes flicked briefly toward Paige before settling back on Azzi.

"I know how hard it is to get a minute with you at these things."

Paige felt the comment land before she could stop it.

Because for some reason, it felt like Olivia knew exactly what she was doing.

Except Olivia wasn't even looking at her.

She was looking at Azzi.

"That is not true,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes. 

Olivia raised her eyebrows.

"Really? Because I feel like I've barely gotten two minutes with you."

Paige stared, trying to decide whether she'd officially lost the plot, or whether Olivia was actually doing this on purpose.

"Anyway, I'll let you get back to your night."

Olivia's voice pulled Paige back.

Azzi gave her a small smile.

"Yeah. See you."

"See you, Paige."

She offered one last polite smile before disappearing into the crowd.

Only after Olivia was gone did Paige realize Azzi was looking at her.

She was just standing there, watching Paige.

Paige knew that look.

It wasn't the amused one Azzi gave her when she was being dramatic.

Azzi was actually annoyed.

Fuck.

Azzi folded her arms across her chest.

"Seriously?"

Paige winced.

"I didn't do anything."

Azzi let out a small, disbelieving laugh.

"Paige."

"What?"

Azzi glanced toward the crowd where Olivia had disappeared, then looked back at her.

"I was having a conversation."

"I know."

There was disappointment underneath the frustration.

"I was talking to someone. I was having a good time."

A pause.

"And then you walked over and ruined it."

Paige swallowed and looked away, rubbing the back of her neck while she searched for an explanation. 

"I wasn't trying to—"

"I know."

Azzi shook her head slightly.

"That's kind of the problem."

Paige met her eyes. 

"I know you don't like Olivia," Azzi continued. "I know you have your reasons."

Her eyes softened a little.

"But you don't get to decide who I talk to because you have a feeling about someone."

"I wasn't trying to control you."

"I know."

Azzi's voice softened.

"But that's what it felt like."

Her gaze drifted toward the floor.

Because that was the last thing she wanted. For Azzi to think she didn't trust her.

"I know you can handle yourself," Paige said quietly.

Azzi let her arms fall back to her sides.

"Then why?"

Paige was quiet for a moment.

"Because you're Azzi."

Azzi laughed once under her breath, shaking her head.

"Okay?"

"No, like..." Paige shook her head. "You're you."

Azzi sighed, but there was the smallest hint of a smile.

"That explains absolutely nothing."

Paige looked down.

"You're the princess."

Azzi blinked.

"And?"

"And people should know how lucky they are to get your attention."

For a moment, Azzi just watched her. The corners of her mouth twitched.

Because underneath all the irritation and jealousy, that was what Paige always came back to.

Azzi was special.

She deserved every bit of love and appreciation she got. And if Olivia could see that, well… It just meant she had eyes.

But Paige had known it first. She knew it best. And she knew exactly what to do with it.

Maybe it was time for a reminder.

"I know."

Azzi's expression shifted.

Her breath caught slightly.

"Is that so?"

Paige held her gaze.

"Yeah."

Azzi searched her face for a long moment, looking past the jealousy and the frustration and everything Paige had gotten wrong tonight.

And somehow, she still understood what Paige was trying to say.

Paige watched something soften in her expression.

God.

Paige loved her.

Somehow, that was always the hardest thing to explain.

None of this had ever really been about Olivia.

Olivia had just happened to be the person standing in the middle of it.

It was about the fact that Azzi was standing right in front of her, and Paige still couldn't believe she got to be the person who knew her this way.

Words suddenly felt too small for all of it.

She reached for Azzi's hand instead.

Azzi's fingers threaded through hers without hesitation.

Their eyes met.

Something softened between them.

"Let's get out of here."

Paige brushed her thumb across the back of Azzi's hand, giving her a knowing smile. 

Azzi didn't argue. She just squeezed Paige's hand once before letting Paige lead her away from the noise.

They slipped quietly away from the crowd, leaving the music and laughter behind.

Their shoulders brushed as they walked down the hallway, their hands finding each other again without either of them thinking about it. Every glance, every brush of their fingers, every small smile only pulled the feeling tighter.

As soon as the hotel room door clicked shut behind them, Paige shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it onto the chair by the window.

The room was quiet except for the air conditioner humming. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow across the room.

Behind her, Azzi slipped off her heels.

Paige turned just in time to catch the smile she was trying, and failing, to hide.

"...What's so funny?"

Azzi bit down on her lip. "Nothing."

Paige gave her a flat look.

"Az."

That only made Azzi laugh harder.

"It's just..." She shook her head. "You."

"Me?"

"Being jealous."

Paige groaned immediately.

"I was not jealous."

"Of Olivia Miles, of all people," Azzi teased.

Paige pointed at her before dropping her keys onto the dresser.

"Okay, first of all—"

"It's kind of cute."

Paige only stared harder.

Azzi's smile widened.

"After all these years, you can still get yourself worked up over something like that."

She tilted her head.

"I mean it’s impressive."

"Bro."

Paige shoved her lightly.

"Come on. Leave me alone."

She started to look away, but Azzi wasn't finished.

"Want to know something else?"

Paige looked back suspiciously.

"Do I?"

Azzi caught one of Paige's fingers as she stepped closer, gently tugging her the last few inches.

"Yeah."

A pause.

"It's also kind of hot."

Paige's eyebrows lifted. "Really?" she asked, her voice dipping.

“Mhmhmm.”

Azzi closed the last few inches between them.

She smoothed the collar of Paige's shirt before sliding her hand to the back of Paige's neck.

“I love that you don’t want anyone to take what’s yours.”

The implication of it made Paige's blood pulse quicken beneath her skin.

Azzi was right here. 

Always hers.

Paige grinned.

"You're right."

Her hand settled against Azzi's lower back, gathering a bit of the fabric of her dress in her fingers.

Azzi met her halfway without hesitation. Sometimes Paige thought Azzi could always get her right where she wanted her. 

The backs of Azzi's knees met the mattress and she laughed softly into the kiss.

They came to a stop. Only then did Paige pull back just enough to meet her eyes, her thumb tracing slowly along Azzi's cheek.

"I love you so much," she murmured.

Before Azzi could answer, Paige kissed her again. This time it was slow and unhurried, lingering for a quiet moment before she finally drew back. Her hands slid from Azzi’s waist to rest lightly on her arms as she gently guided her to sit on the edge of the bed.

Now she was standing over her, Azzi looking up at her with that naturally pouty expression settled across her features. 

“What are you gonna do now, Bueckers?” 

A playful glint flicked in her eyes.

Paige held her gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“I’m going to show you that I know what I got.” 

She paused, letting the words settle between them. 

“How lucky I am.”

Azzi relaxed her shoulders, shifting herself up the bed and inching her knees apart ever so slightly. She was wearing a tight dress from the party, so Paige could see her lacy underwear with the movement. 

Then Azzi spoke, making Paige’s eyes reluctantly tilt back upwards. 

“Okay.”

Her voice stayed even. 

“Then show me.”

Paige didn’t hesitate, pulling off her own dress shirt to give herself more room to maneuver.

Once free, she crawled onto the bed holding Azzi’s eyes, determined to communicate her intention. 

When she reached her, she found the seam of Azzi’s dress across her thighs, and hiked it up to sit around her hips.

Azzi didn’t look away from her. 

She stayed waiting.

Expectant. 

So Paige hooked her hands around the black lace and pulled them off. 

Azzi grinned. 

“I should talk to other girls more often if it gets you like this.” 

Paige gripped her thighs, pulling towards her in response. 

“Don’t you dare,” she said, her eyes locked in on Azzi’s, her arms still wrapped around her knees. 

Paige shifted from there to gently press kisses to the inside of her thighs as she guided them apart. 

Paige paused, taking in the moment. 

Not for the first time she thought that she could spend forever here. 

And she could tell Azzi, who was still sitting propped up on her elbows, was thinking the same thing. 

Paige turned her attention back to the sight before her. Azzi’s pussy dripping and probably throbbing from the lack of attention. 

“Mine,” she whispered breathily. 

She could be sure Azzi felt the sensation on her pussy when she dropped her head back, humming low. 

Paige hadn’t expected her to respond, so when Azzi let out a whiny “Yeah,” Paige felt it deep inside of herself. 

Suddenly Paige couldn't wait a second longer to put her mouth on Azzi. 

Hers.

She licked into her with a hunger that was met with a satisfied moan from Azzi. 

Paige was not in the mood to take it slow tonight. She wanted to make sure Azzi knew exactly who she belonged to. 

Paige swirled her tongue around her hole before penetrating her a little. 

Azzi squirmed, watching Paige with hooded eyes as Paige pushed into her more. 

Paige moved her tongue around inside her until Azzi’s chest was moving up and down with rapid breaths. Paige felt the warmth pool low within her, pressing her legs together to feel the friction. 

She moved her head up slightly, flattening her tongue from her hole to her clit as she went. Azzi finally let go as she let her elbows shift to her sides, arching her back. 

Yes. That’s it. 

Paige sucked on her clit. Azzi moaned louder. 

Uninhibited. 

Then she watched Azzi’s skin tighten over her abs as she sat herself up. 

“Paige.”

Paige looked up at her. Reluctantly detaching her mouth from her.

“Yeah?”

“I am yours.”

“Only yours.”

Paige shuddered. 

She reached out, grabbing Paige’s forearm, guiding her to where her mouth had just been.

“Show me please.”

Paige nodded, understanding. 

“You want me to take what’s mine?” 

Paige let her fingers lightly graze her inner thigh.

Right at the edge. 

Azzi’s fingers twitched over hers.

“Please.” 

Paige teased her entrance briefly with her fingertips before pushing inside easily. 

Azzi whined, her head falling forward a little. 

Paige shifted her body up so that she could catch the sound with her lips. 

The kiss quickly turned sloppy, Azzi falling apart around the thrust of her fingers. 

“Okay baby that’s it.” 

“You’re mine. Show me, come for me baby,” Paige murmured as Azzi felt Azzi start to tighten, moving her thumb to massage her clit. 

Azzi met her mouth messily again, grinding herself lower on her fingers and moaning into Paige’s mouth. 

Paige slowed down the motion of her fingers as Azzi came out of it.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together.

"I love you," Azzi whispered.

"Yeah," she murmured. "I know."

She leaned in once more, stealing one last slow kiss before settling beside her. Azzi curled one leg against Paige’s without thinking, her head finding its familiar place beneath Paige's chin.

For a while, neither of them said anything.

Paige pressed a kiss into Azzi's hair and closed her eyes.

Azzi's breathing slowly settled into an easy rhythm beside her.

Whatever had been bothering her earlier felt impossibly far away now.

It always comes back to this.

To Azzi.

chapter five

California is calm around her as Azzi drives herself to Paige’s house. Her windows are down, fresh air whistling through the openings and tousling her hair and nudging the heavy sunglasses perched on her nose. She’s playing an old The Chainsmokers song that buzzes when the bass gets heavy and sings out of her car. Paige’s neighborhood probably doesn’t appreciate it. She doesn’t really care.

It’s been two days since she had last hooked up with Paige. Two days since the horrible truth had hit her that she was, in fact, still in love with her ex-wife. That all those times looking for her at parties or the club were subconsciously more than the sex. She leans forward and turns the volume up like the music will drown out her feelings. She enters the code for Paige’s house, the lip of her car window digging into her armpit as she reaches her arm back in from punching it into the keypad.

Paige’s house is the same as it’s always looked. It’s different in her mind, because she’s now not only been inside of it but been dicked down inside of it, but it looks the exact same as every other Saturday she’s driven up her smooth driveway to pick up their daughter. She turns the music down. Something like fear starts to rattle quietly within her. She tries to ignore it. The sun smiles down at her through the windshield of her Tesla. She’s not smiling back.

She’s worried. Really and truly worried about seeing Paige again. She doesn’t know what all Paige remembers. She doesn’t know what she herself remembers. She could have said or done something that would have completely revealed the depths of her feelings to Paige that she had forgotten about. To be fair, she was barely tipsy by the time Paige arrived, and she remembers every second of the night, but what if there was a lapse? A gap her mind filled in but Paige’s didn’t have to?

Azzi rolls to a stop in front of the porch. The front door does not open. It’s a little out of the ordinary for Kitty to not be bounding out of the house to meet her, but she’s not really surprised. She pulls her phone out of the cupholder. She doesn’t have a vape to hit to calm her nerves anymore, so she just rides the anxiety out. Turns the music down a little more, leaves the windows open.

The sound of the front door clicking open, paired with a little grunt that unmistakably comes from her daughter, makes Azzi look up after a few moments. There’s a crack in the door and she can see the pattern of her Vera Bradley duffel and a few of her messy curls in what little sight she’s allowed. Azzi immediately sets her phone back down and opens the door to slip out of her car.

What Azzi is expecting is to walk up to the porch and watch her daughter shut the door behind herself and then hug her, all soft hair and big eyes and a smile with little teeth. What she’s not expecting is to start walking there and see Paige stepping out with her, carrying her suitcase. Kitty holds her duffel. Her nose is a little scrunched.

Azzi’s stomach drops a little. A smile pulls across her face and wavers. She immediately becomes even more nervous. Paige, all six feet of her, hair shining in the sun and skin pale under her t-shirt and shorts. Her lashes are bare and her eyes are still stunning as she bends down a little to mess with Kitty’s suitcase. Azzi feels herself flush a little. It feels so juvenile, to step out onto her ex-wife’s driveway to pick up their child and to be blushing over the sight of her, but Azzi’s never really been the most mature, unfortunately.

Paige looks up at her. She squints a little through the sun that splashes down onto them. Azzi rounds the front of her car, walking towards both her and Kitty. “Sorry, she was having a hard time with her bags,” Paige says. It’s almost sheepish. Azzi shrugs a little at her because she doesn’t know what else to do.

Her ribcage feels like it’s bursting. Something within her chest is swelling and cracking the bones on its way out. Kitty, from next to Paige, grumbles wordlessly. She pouts and draws her brows together as she walks towards Azzi. “I was not! Mama, I know how to hold a suitcase,” she argues, little arms wrapped around her duffel.

Azzi looks down at her. “I’m sure you do, honey,” she coos. Kitty drops her duffle by Azzi’s feet and steps up to hug her leg, gripping her thigh and resting her head against the bone of Azzi’s hip. Something within her, the animal and maternal part of her brain, automatically softens herself as she watches Kitty do this. She raises a hand and starts gently petting her curls. “She’s- Like, she’s good, right? Packed even if she can’t hold all her stuff?”

She only looks up at Paige when the words have already been spoken, and she’s glad she had done that, because a lump tries to form itself in her throat when she notices Paige is already watching her. Not Kitty. Her. “Mama!” Kitty protests, but it falls on deaf ears. Pink ears, too, because Azzi can feel that she’s flushed and Paige’s skin looks a little warm under the sun.

Paige smiles softly at Azzi. Her eyes are still a little squinted. Kitty detaches herself from Azzi and picks her duffel back up, wandering towards the car behind Azzi. Azzi doesn’t move. “Yeah, she’s good.” Paige steps towards her with Kitty’s suitcase. Azzi moves to start meeting her, hand out, heart pattering a little in her chest. “Also- Sorry, just wanted to bring up, like, all the dance stuff? She seems like she really wants to keep doing it.”

Azzi nods. The way Paige is initiating a conversation between them is feeding into the part of Azzi that desperately wants a connection with the other woman again and she’s starting to get scared that her hope is growing too quickly to get weeded out. “Oh, yeah, I was looking at that. The studio she did ballet camp at has a ballet company for younger girls. I don’t remember when auditions are, but I totally think it’d be worth it to look into it.”

Paige nods. She squints a little harder against the sun, nose scrunching a little. It’s endearingly and achingly similar to Kitty’s expression. Azzi grabs the suitcase from Paige. “Okay, yeah, I was looking at that, too. I just wanted to run that by you before. I also don’t remember any of the dates or anything, but I remember seeing that there are, like, required camps? So it might be…a process. To get her signed up for company auditions and the camps and classes ‘n stuff.”

Azzi’s brows furrow a little. She hears the car door shut behind her, a clear sign that Kitty has just let herself into the car and is waiting for Azzi to get inside and drive away. “Oh, shoot, where did you see that? I only saw the audition and class stuff.” Azzi, while looking at the website, didn’t really look that hard for anything. But she doesn’t want this conversation to end because it’s one of the only civil ones they’ve had in months.

It feels normal. It feels normal, and that’s what makes Azzi feel like she’s gorging herself on hope. They haven’t been normal in a year. They had found their own, twisted definition of the word, but this feels like something that is simply and truly normal. “It was, like, deep in the website. I can send you the link and we can look over it together.” Paige pats her back pocket a little as if to mime pulling out her phone.

Azzi smiles at her a little bit. And Paige mirrors it back to her, lips lifting, the bottoms of her gums just barely peeking out from underneath them. Azzi misses the gummy wideness of her genuine smile. “I’ll look online and text you about what I find and we can…go from there.” She nods once at her.

Paige’s smile grows just a little bit. Her eyes catch the sun and they shine bright at Azzi, a sweet blue that matches the bright sky that hangs behind her head. “Alright, sounds good.” Azzi offers one last smile and then turns around, dragging Kitty’s suitcase with her. She’s just turned around when she hears it: “Have a good rest of your day, Az.” It’s soft. It makes Azzi soften with it, butter held to the mercy of a warm knife.

She looks over her shoulder. Paige is still standing there on the porch, the shape of the woman Azzi has loved for so much of her life, the shape of the woman she knows she still does love. She smiles at her and it feels more tender than any of the ones they’ve traded in a very long time. “You too, Paige,” she says, cheeks a little warm, and Paige just grins at her and then turns to step into her house. Azzi turns to set Kitty’s suitcase in her car.

Azzi has to be stupid. There has to be something wrong with her, something so deeply twisted within her for her to live through that interaction and feel herself start to swell with the same stupidly light hope she had felt just the previous day in that cafe with Caroline. Kitty makes a wordless cooing noise as Azzi shuts her door. Azzi feels like her skin is going to burn and flake off with how warm she is, a sunburn inflicted from the inside.

The drive back is calm, and then she’s home with her daughter again and life has been breathed into the house again. Kitty immediately insists on playing with her Calico Critters with Azzi, who happily obliges. The rest of her morning is soft with the presence of Kitty. They leave the playroom around noon to make lunch.

Azzi is standing over a pot of boiling water, stirring the macaroni noodles so they don’t clump together as they soften. Kitty is humming to herself at the kitchen island behind the stove. The occasional click of a plastic animal tapping against the marble joins the sound of her little voice and the bubbling water. “Did you and Mommy talk about me dancing?”

Azzi looks over her shoulder at Kitty behind her. The girl is looking up at her, Calico Critters paused on the counter top, big eyes looking at her blankly. “Yeah. Just about what we already talked about, about how they have a lot of classes and sometimes even competitions. We’re gonna look into signing you up for them.” She turns around to continue stirring.

Kitty hiccups once. Azzi furrows her brows a little and fights the urge to laugh at the sound. “Okay, good. ‘Cause you guys talked when you picked me up. So…And you usually don’t.” The click of the critters against the counter again. Azzi’s brows furrow.

She looks over her shoulder again. Her arm stirs the pot lazily. Kitty isn’t looking at her anymore, already engrossed in her toys again. “Yeah, we did. Do I have your permission to talk to your mother?” It’s a little teasing, but it’s a little not. Even Kitty had noticed the shift. That has to mean something, right?

Kitty looks up. “What?” Her nose scrunches a little. Her lips pull into a smile, little teeth shining at Azzi in the kitchen light. Azzi mimics the expression back and draws a giggle out of her daughter, who looks back down at her toys again. “You’re weird, Mama,” she says, still laughing a little to herself.

Azzi smiles and turns around. “You’re weirder,” she says. Kitty giggles again. They lapse back into comfortable silence, Kitty mumbling and humming and occasionally hiccuping, Azzi stirring the pasta around in the hot water as she waits for their meal to cook. Their afternoon is lazy.

Caroline wants to go clubbing tonight. Everyone does, but it’s Caroline to individually text her a few hours into the afternoon when she still hasn’t acknowledged any plans being made in any of their group chats. And it’s harder to say no to Caroline than it is to just continue ignoring the group chats, so she eventually does have to give in.

Azzi doesn’t really want to go out. If she’s being honest, she’d rather spend time with her daughter. But Caroline wants to see her and it’s easier to drown out her feelings when she’s drunk, so she’s once again left Kitty in the care of Stella and showed up to hang out with her friends. She’s in little shorts and a little top. Emi compliments her and mimes groping her when she walks in. Azzi laughs.

She’s a little late to the pregame. It’s at Violet’s again, and it’s the same group of girls who she knows and then additional people she recognizes and remembers speaking to while drunk. She gets tipsy. She talks to her friends. It feels like going through the motions of something, of doing what she knows she should because it’s what will help her.

They share two Ubers to the club. It’s dark out when they arrive. Azzi slips out, Caroline clutching her forearm, everyone talking and giggling around them. All Azzi can muster up is a stupid grin, slackened a little by the grip alcohol has on her. She knows she’ll have fun. She knows she’ll go in there and get drunk and maybe see Paige and maybe they can leave together and fuck.

She thinks that might be the reason she doesn’t want to go out. Seeing Paige. Which sounds counterproductive, because all she wants is Paige. But she doesn’t want to see her and get wrapped up in another half-assed argument and then go home to fuck and then have one of them leave right after they’ve come down from their highs. Not that the arguing has really been happening recently, but that’s not what matters.

Azzi doesn’t want to confirm to herself that it’s just sex. She doesn’t want Paige’s actions to confirm to her that it’s just sex. And so maybe it’s a little juvenile, but she’s so scared of it being confirmed to her if they see each other tonight that she’d rather just not go out. She’d rather just see Paige in the day, when alcohol and poor lighting don’t carve her into something Azzi has tried to train herself to hate and instead allow her to just be the woman Azzi grew up loving.

It’s a different club than the one they’ve been to the last few times, but it’s nice all the same. They get drinks and Halle tries to offer her vape to Azzi again, who refuses. Their little group is constantly changing as some people get wrapped up in outside conversations and others Azzi doesn’t really know get wrapped up in their conversations. Her stomach hurts a little bit with something like dread. She ignores it in favor of talking to the people around her.

Azzi tries to have a fun night. She really does. She gets drunk and hovers by Caroline and sits calmly at the edge of conversations, feeling the way her mind and body go fuzzy with inebriation as she sips on her seltzer and laughs when she knows she should. This is good for her. Getting out here and making friends is good for her. Emi had brought up a little bit ago putting in a good word for her to a casting director she’s friends with. Being here is good.

The alcohol loosens everyone up and she tries to keep drinking so the odd feeling in her stomach gets soggy and weighed down so she can forget about it. She gets wrapped up listening to an argument full of laughter between Emi and some other girl Azzi doesn’t know for a while. She smiles as they speak. She’s not listening to a single word they say, but pretending to gives her an excuse of something to do, and so she takes it.

It’s when she leaves after barely an hour of standing around to go to the bathroom when she feels it. This deep, twisting feeling in her gut, the rolling of a wave over the shore. Her brows furrow through the dim lighting. She wanders around to find a bathroom and notices a few single stall ones tucked into a corner of the room. There are a few people standing around and giggling by it. She pushes past them into an open one.

The light is on. It’s a dim one, hung just over the mirror by the sink. She can see her reflection. She doesn’t look great. Her makeup is on and her hair is in sleek ringlets and her outfit hugs her nicely, but she can see the underlying current of fatigue and dread that runs through her body. She tucks her hair behind the shells of her ears and closes the door behind her. Music and laughter try to crawl underneath it.

There’s a vape on the counter. A brand Azzi doesn’t recognize. It’s sleek and dark and shines at her in the bathroom light. Azzi doesn’t even want it. She squints at it. About a year ago, had she seen a random vape in a club while she didn’t have one on her, she would have hit it without a second thought. But she’s not an addict anymore. She hasn’t regularly vaped in probably months, stopped vaping just when she was the most anxious when Paige had taken it from her. It’s gross. She doesn’t want it.

Her chest still hurts with anxiety anyway. Nicotine has always found a way to bury itself deep into her and she can feel it trying to reach out to her. She furrows her brows. And very suddenly, Azzi wants to go home again. Very suddenly, Azzi misses Kitty and misses her bed and misses being able to crawl home to her wife and daughter when she wanted to leave somewhere. She doesn’t get that privilege anymore. She still wants to crawl home, though. And so she does.

She leaves the bathroom. She didn’t actually need to use it, anyway. She doesn’t say anything to Caroline. She thinks she probably should, but it’s early enough in the night anyway that she probably will be conscious enough to try to text Azzi if she notices that she’s missing. The club is crowded around her. Azzi reaches into her back pocket to find her phone to order an Uber. She feels pressed in on. She doesn’t like it.

Azzi steps out into the street. She orders an Uber, pretends to not notice the two people sitting on the edge of the porch and giggling drunkenly to each other. The music thumps in the walls behind her. She steps out farther onto the sidewalk, walking along the street, passing the lines of cars parked along it. The night shines down on her skin. She feels clammy. She feels sick. It’s that fever, the fever of loving Paige. She’ll leave without seeing her. She’s probably here, and if not, she’s probably out at another club or a party. Azzi tries to convince herself she doesn’t care.

The Uber comes and she slips into it. The drive is silent. It smells like menthol inside and Azzi feels herself growing a little nauseous at the strength of the smell. There’s a little Jesus figure tucked on the dash next to the clock. His shiny varnish makes him wink at Azzi when the streetlights catch him. Azzi looks away. It’s a Saturday. Tomorrow is the Lord’s day. Tomorrow is the day Paige fought her over. Today is the Sabbath. The Uber drops her off in front of her house. Azzi wears its scent of menthol like a fur coat.

Azzi steps in through the front door. The foyer is dark. There’s gentle light spilling in from the kitchen that she can see. She walks farther into the house, trying to keep her steps quiet, peeking around to look into her kitchen. She sees Stella sitting at the island with her laptop open and a few pieces of paper next to her on the counter. She looks up when Azzi steps in. “Oh, hi, Azzi. You’re home earlier than you said you’d be,” she says, and it’s not judgemental.

Azzi shrugs a little bit and sighs. Stella looks at her calmly and shuts her laptop. The warm light of the overhead chandeliers fight to keep back the darkness of the night. “I know, I just…I had to come home. I dunno. Kitty’s asleep, right?”

Stella nods. “Yeah, she got put to bed over an hour ago. D’you want me to go?” She says it as she’s collecting the papers along the countertop and moving to slip out of the chair she’s sitting in, already moving without waiting for Azzi’s response. She knows what the younger woman will say. Azzi appreciates it, if she’s being honest.

She twists her lips to somewhat resemble sorriness. Stella continues packing up. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll pay you whatever I owe you in the morning. And, like, honestly, if you need the money for the hours I said I’d be gone that I wasn’t, I can just pay you that, too,” she offers. She sighs a little through her words.

Stella waves her off, shaking her head. She slings her bag over her shoulder and starts walking towards the door. Azzi follows her to walk her out. “No, you’re totally fine. Just pay me for the four or so hours. Have a nice night,” she says into the foyer as she steps closer to the front door. Azzi stops a few yards back from it.

She smiles a little at the back of the woman leaving her house. “Thank you, you, too,” she says, watching as she opens the door and then slips out into the darkness. The door clicks shut softly behind her. And then Azzi is standing alone in her dim foyer, body wrapped in her tight going out clothes, house quiet around her. Something within her still aches and burns.

“Mama?” Azzi nearly jumps at the sound of the voice. It’s slightly scratchy with lingering sleep Azzi can pick up on. She turns to look at the staircase and finds Kitty standing at the bottom of them, nightgown a little rucked up around one of her legs. She squints at Azzi through the dark. Azzi softens.

“Oh, hi, baby,” she says quietly. Kitty immediately starts walking towards her, little feet bare on the tile, her hands reaching up to rub sleep from her eyes. Azzi watches her move. She looks like a little shadow through the dim air of the foyer. She holds her hands outstretched in front of her face like she’s reaching for something. Reaching for Azzi. “I didn’t hear you coming down the stairs. Are you okay?”

Her hands grab at the hem of Azzi’s shorts. Little fingers scrape lightly against her skin, little eyes hooded with sleep looking up into her own. Azzi automatically bends down to pick her up. “Yeah. I heard you.” She immediately settles herself against Azzi, arms and legs wrapping around her, head settling on her shoulder. She sighs softly and her small breath ghosts along Azzi’s skin. Azzi squeezes her a little bit. Through the haze of the alcohol, her chest warms with something simpler. “Can you cuddle me?”

“Of course,” she murmurs. She slips her shoes off, careful to steady Kitty in her arms, and then pads into the sitting room. “On the comfy couch,” she says as she slowly settles herself down on her back, Kitty a dead weight against her through her movements. She just stays sleepily clinging to Azzi the entire time. Azzi likes it. She’s soft and small and warm and Azzi feels herself wanting to hold onto her forever to heal the ache running through her body.

 “Yay,” she mumbles when they’ve settled. Azzi exhales a quiet laugh at this. Kitty nuzzles farther into her. Azzi blinks up at the dark ceiling, at the stripes of moonlight painted through the room from the windows. Her body feels fuzzy and not in an enjoyable way. Kitty sighs into her neck. Azzi starts gently rubbing her back, hand warm through her nightgown. Kitty’s breathing evens out immediately.

There’s a deep sadness that is running through Azzi right now that she doesn’t know how to cure. Maybe it’s something closer to dread, honestly. She’s dreading waking up from this and going about her life and trying to convince herself she’s not missing Paige every moment of it. And maybe Caroline is right, and maybe there is hope from them, but she finds it so hard to be hopeful when she’s spent almost a year like this, swallowing feelings and forcing hatred and pretending to like what has become of them.

She glances down at Kitty. As her eyes move, she notices that they’ve gone a little wet. Kitty is unmoving where she lays on top of Azzi. Her curls try to reach up at and tickle Azzi’s face. Azzi’s hand is still moving gently against her skin. “I love you,” Azzi mumbles into her hair. Her voice cracks a little. Kitty does not respond. Just continues breathing, chest expanding and contracting against Azzi’s own.

Azzi starts crying. She tries to keep it quiet, tries to not let her chest shake too hard. She doesn’t want Kitty waking up. Her Kitty, her Katie Cat, her beautiful little girl. The life she had chosen to raise with the love of her own. Her curls smell like the same shampoo they always do, because even after the divorce, she and Paige had shared similar minds for most things related to their daughter. It just makes her cry harder.

She hates that this is what her life has come to. That she doesn’t have Paige at all and only half has Kitty, that she’s supposed to hate Paige now and her body still warms when she has the older girl’s attention like she’s the sun and Azzi is a jungle plant cut off from her rays but still vying and competing for the heat of them. She needs her. And she doesn’t have her. Her chest shudders with her drunken sobs. Kitty is still against her.

Azzi doesn’t know how long she’s there for. She just lets herself cry. Kitty is warm along her front and Azzi tries her best to lean into the comfort of her daughter’s presence instead of sinking into the chill of knowing it will always be temporary. The moonlight streams in from the large windows in the sitting area. It’s shiny and cold where it hits her through the dark.

Her sobs sink to softer cries after a while. They don’t wrack her as hard anymore. Her eyes feel swollen and her head is starting to hurt. She’s so dehydrated. Her skin is tight where tears have turned to tracks of salt like wounds drawn into her cheeks. Her arms stay around Kitty the entire time. Her daughter’s breathing is even against her own.

She needs Paige. She’s still crying a little bit, nose running, mouth dry and eyes wet. She needs her. Stupidly, she starts fumbling to dig into her pocket around Kitty. Her fingers scramble against the front of her jean skirt and she’s grateful to realize after a few moments of blind searching that it’s fallen out onto the couch. Her nails scratch quietly against the cushions as she grabs it.

Her hands are shaking. She unlocks her phone. Squints a little through blurry vision to open her contacts, scrolls until she finds Paige. Their last conversation is still the one of Azzi nearly begging her to come over. They haven’t had time to talk about Kitty and her ballet company yet. She doesn’t know why, but it just makes her even sadder. She hits the call button before she has time to think.

It starts to ring. The tone is quiet. She still looks down cautiously at Kitty as it makes noise, freezing to see if her daughter will stir. She doesn’t. Her little body stays motionless against Azzi, breath whistling a little through her nose. Azzi holds the phone to her ear. She chews on the inside of her cheek. It continues to ring.

She waits until it rings out. Until she’s getting the generic voicemail and her eyes are watering again and the only reason she’s not chewing all of her nails off is because she wants to keep at least one arm around her daughter. Her phone tells her to speak after the tone. It beeps in her ear once. She chokes a little on an inhale. Paige did not pick up. She needs Paige, and Paige will not pick up.

“Paige,” she breathes into the receiver, and it physically hurts her to speak her name. She doesn’t know why she’s doing it, if she’s being honest. The voicemail will probably only haunt her. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t even know why ‘m calling, I just- Like, I’m sorry, I guess. Things have just gotten so…complicated. Between us. And I think I’m scared. And I miss you. Or- wait, I really should prolly not say that.” Her voice wobbles. She’s already on the verge of tears again.

Azzi looks down at the sleeping form of their daughter on top of her, of her wild curls and soft skin and little pajamas. Her vision blurs. “I’m gonna go to bed. I think I’m too drunk. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. And you didn’t even pick up, so I know you prolly have other things to be doing, so just…I dunno. I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m crying.” She sniffs a little and moves the hand holding the phone to her ear to wipe a little at her cheeks. “I’ll…see you when I see you. Bye. Kitty loves you.” And then she pulls the phone away and hangs up.

She’s an idiot for falling in love with her ex-wife again. She’s an idiot for thinking sex would be nothing more, because it would always be more with Paige. Paige is everything. Azzi drops her phone onto the couch cushions again. She’s crying, but this time there are no sobs. Just silent drops of salt and water as her chest caves in on itself, ribs shriveling.

Azzi doesn’t know when she falls asleep. She feels when she’s in it, though, and she’s grateful for it. Peace finds her in unconsciousness, in the slightly uncomfortable shape she’s in to fit on the couch, in the warm weight of Kitty on top of her. Her inebriation starts to ebb away from her. It makes sure to dig her deep into the claws of sleep before it does, though, and so she’s very asleep when she starts to feel the stirring of Kitty against her.

It’s not really a stirring, because a stirring would imply the beginning of liveliness, of unconsciousness slipping off naturally and the body warming again. It’s more of a moving and pulling, a collecting of limbs and lifting of the body. Kitty grunts a little close to Azzi’s face. Her eyes start to flutter open, face screwing up a little. Her body is stiff. Her head hurts. Azzi tries to force sleep away from herself as she begins to stir herself. Her daughter is being pulled off of her.

She furrows her brows and blinks rapidly, trying to force her vision to work better through the dark. There’s a figure standing in front of her. She’s tall and broad-shouldered and her hair shines heather gray in the moonlight that seeps into Azzi’s sitting room. Her heart clenches in her chest like her ribcage has snapped shut. She inhales quickly, trying to sit up as Paige peels Kitty’s sleeping body away from Azzi’s own. “It’s okay,” she breathes. Azzi blinks more.

Paige is rearranging Kitty to hold her. She straightens up in front of Azzi, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and very much not looking like she had been out. Kitty starts to shift in her arms, inhaling, sleep trying to shake itself off of her. Azzi just watches through the dark. She’s so confused. Paige is in her house and carrying their daughter and Azzi is nearly sober laying on the couch with a pounding headache.

Her eyes are a soft blue through the dark. She looks so kind where she stands, so much the shape of the woman Azzi loved for so long and still loves. Kitty tucks her face into her neck and sighs a little. Her body stills again. She’s comfortable and soft against Paige and all Azzi can do is start to prop herself up on the couch, staring up at the two of them. “There’s water and Advil on the table behind you,” Paige says softly.

Azzi turns to look behind herself. Sure enough, there on the end table sits a glass of water and two pills. The moonlight shines and bends through the water, streaks of pearl light softening in the liquid. Azzi’s chest aches a little in the way she knows the two shining tablets won’t cure. She turns her head again and sees that Paige is already turning away, Kitty slumped in her arms, walking out of the sitting room and towards the staircase.

Azzi does nothing to stop her. She just slumps into the couch again, eyes heavy, mouth dry. It’s so dark in her house. She wants to sink into it and let it swallow her. She can feel that she’s not drunk anymore, leaving her with a slight hangover made worse by the tears that had rocked her to sleep. She squints up at her ceiling. The stairs start quietly shifting in the distance, the clear sign that weight is being pressed against them. Her stomach and head hurt.

Paige is in her house. Paige had gone to her house and poured her a glass of water and set down two painkillers and then taken their daughter upstairs, presumably to her bedroom. Presumably to put her to bed after Azzi was too broken to do anything other than cuddle her in the sitting room until they were both dead asleep. Azzi sits up again and reaches out to grab the water and the pills.

Part of her softens at this. Part of her is so grateful for her presence, however unannounced and horribly inconsistent with whatever their relationship is supposed to be. But part of her just aches more. Azzi takes the pills and then continues drinking the water until she can’t. She doesn’t know what Paige is even really doing here.

The voicemail. Azzi feels something cold run down her spine. She had called Paige and Paige hadn’t picked up, which is why she’s assuming Paige is here. But she had left a voicemail. And she knows she was crying, knows she was holding Kitty and shuddering, but has no real recollection of what she had said in it.

This gets her to finally stand up. This gets Azzi, with a body that barely feels like it’s connected to her anymore and a deep ache running within her like something has cracked her open, to get up off of the couch and set her nearly empty glass down and start to follow Paige upstairs. Her feet are quiet on the tile.

There isn’t a concrete plan settling itself into her. Azzi doesn’t know what she’s looking to do once she gets up those stairs. She knows she’s looking for Paige, though, and she lets that be enough to start to guide her up them. Her legs ache the same as her head as she steps. She can start to make out the landing, the doors that open away from the open space there, the dim shapes of light fixtures and door frames and decor up on the walls.

She makes it up the stairs in time to watch as Paige steps out of Kitty’s room. Her figure is just as dim as it had been downstairs, moonlight tracing her shape and dulling her colors as her back faces Azzi and she slowly shuts the door. She’s being careful to not make noise. Azzi just watches her do it. Her mouth feels dry again despite the water she had just downed.

Paige turns around. She finds Azzi standing at the top of the stairs and pauses. Her eyes go a little wide like she’s guilty of something. Azzi blinks at her. Her stomach twists a little. “Sorry for…letting myself in. I was on set when you called, and then I listened to your voicemail, and I tried calling you back, but you wouldn’t pick up. And I just…I dunno. I got a little worried, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She looks away as she speaks. So she wasn’t out clubbing or at a party.

The mention of the voicemail does nothing to soothe Azzi. She just looks at Paige and her downturned eyes and the lengthy figure of her body and how she feels both so achingly familiar and so achingly foreign at the same time in Azzi’s house. “No, yeah, thank you,” she says, exhaling. It’s shaky. They stand there in silence for a few moments. Her eyes start stinging the same way they had before she had fallen asleep. “I’m sorry,” she breathes.

Paige’s face crumples a little with a frown, brows furrowing, the line of her lips downturning. Her eyes still shine out through the thinning her eyelids and undereyes put them through. “Why are you sorry?” The question comes out so quiet and so sincere that Azzi can’t help but go a little soft at it, and then feel her entire body furl in on itself with the ache of knowing she’s gone soft for Paige. She says nothing. A few moments pass. “Azzi, are you okay? Why are you sorry?”

Her eyes are glassed over. She thinks Paige can probably tell in the moonlight. She wraps her arms around her midsection. “‘Cause I called you. I’m- Like, we’re just not supposed to do that, but I called you and I’m literally just being the worst, and I don’t remember what all I said, but I’m pretty sure I said things I wasn’t supposed to say.”

And Paige just looks at her. Her brows are still pulled down with something almost like concern. She takes a step closer to Azzi and the brunette feels like she’s drowning, like everything she’s wanted for all her life is trying to give itself back to her but she knows it’s not real. “What does that mean?” Her voice is gentle. Azzi inhales and her chest shudders as she tries to fight back tears.

Paige watches her for a response. Azzi doesn’t really have one that won’t completely give herself away. Her palms feel clammy against her own skin. “Like…I dunno. We just haven’t really been talking a lot since the divorce, and so I know I was, like, crossing boundaries, and I just…I shouldn’t’ve called. I’m sorry.”

Paige blinks at her. Her brows soften a little. The concern gives way to something a little more tender, something Azzi can’t handle being directed at her. Her eyes continue to water. Paige takes another step towards her, the dim distance between them only shortening. “Are you drunk?”

“I was,” Azzi whispers. Paige’s lips twist a little. The space between them is so quiet. Azzi bites the inside of her cheek a little bit, trying to force the sharp pain to ground her a little more. “I think it’s all gone.”

Paige nods once. Azzi watches her through the dark, the night making it all that much more intimate. They stand in the house that was once theirs and Azzi feels alcohol and complication swirling in her gut and Paige stands in front of her like a sculpture she’ll never be allowed to touch the way she really wants. “Okay. Let’s…talk. I think we should.”

Azzi’s stomach hurts. She blinks rapidly and a single tear rolls down her face, the track of it parallel to the ones already lining and tightening her skin. “I didn’t want to mess things up, I’m sorry,” she whispers. It hurts a little to get out. Her chest feels tight.

Paige frowns a little at her. “Azzi, you’re not messing things up. I want to talk to you. And it’s not- You’re not, like, in trouble or anything. You’re just right. We haven’t been talking a lot. And we should.” Azzi shudders a little. It’s not even cold. Paige takes another step towards her. Azzi’s feet stay frozen. The walk down the aisle, the passing off of the bride to the other. The flipped roles. The divorce that was supposed to stop her from thinking things like this. “Are you okay?”

Azzi nods. Her arms tighten a little where they’re wrapped around her stomach. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, voice quiet and a little wobbly. Paige doesn’t press. They just stand there for a few more moments, silent, the house hollow around them.

Paige’s eyes are so beautiful. Azzi hates herself a little for thinking it. All of her is beautiful, but her eyes have always been something that she’s loved. She can see through the dark that her lashes are smudged with mascara, darkened and lengthened and defined so the blue of her irises shines. They’re dimmed without anything but the moonlight to hit them. They make Azzi feel warm anyway.

They walk in silence to Azzi’s room. It’s a wordless agreement, a plan they execute in tandem. The door creaks a little when Paige swings it open. Azzi steps inside. The last time they had been in here together was just a few days earlier and it doesn’t look any different. The bed is still unmade and the moon still spills in through the windows and the balcony still is cold and dark outside. Paige shuts the door.

They stand there for a moment in the middle of the room. Like strangers. Like lovers. Azzi’s chest feels tight. Her feet are bare and the smooth wood of the floor seeps into her skin, finds ways to make her feel cold even as the attention of the sun is still lingering throughout the house.

It’s Paige to break the silence first. Her words are quiet and almost cautious. Azzi hangs onto them like her voice is a cure to the ache in her chest, honey slipping down a sore throat. “You’re done vaping? Like, quitting?” She looks at Azzi as she says it. Her expression is even.

Azzi exhales and it shudders a little on its way out. “Yeah. You took my last one and I haven’t bought a new one. I’m not gonna. ‘m done with nic.” And it’s the truth. It feels good to say it out loud, however weak it sounds as it leaves her tired body.

She thinks she hears Paige hum a little. Her expression doesn’t change, the same blue eyes and sharp features looking at her as they stand there. “Can I ask why? Like, why you…started again?” Azzi feels something in her chest twist. It’s ugly. She thinks some of it might show on her face, because Paige immediately opens her mouth again. “I know we’ve had this fight before. I don’t wanna fight anymore, Azzi. Just…the truth. I won’t argue with you or anything. I just actually wanna know why.”

Azzi goes quiet for a few moments. “It was too hard not to,” she eventually says, voice barely above a whisper. “I was just…You got a bunch of really good jobs back to back to back, and I wasn’t doing that well. And I was getting stressed, but you always talked about all of your work and how hard it was on you, and I felt like an idiot for being upset about the opposite. So I didn’t say anything. I just started vaping. I think I told you this during the divorce.”

Paige nods a little and looks down. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I remember.” Her voice is soft, understanding, a line of something a little resigned underneath it. Like it was the answer she was expecting. The one Azzi had yelled at her during the fights, the one Azzi had told her lawyers when they went to court for custody. “I’m sorry,” she adds quietly. It’s genuine.

Something lurches a little in Azzi’s stomach. The need to spill everything. The need to look Paige in the eye and cough up the last little bit of truth. “There…It was more than that, too.” Paige looks up again. Azzi inhales. It shakes. She looks through the moonlight at Paige’s eyes of shining sea glass and forces herself to speak. “I, um…I just started…missing my mom.”

Paige’s face crumples. “Oh, Azzi,” she breathes, and it makes it that much harder for Azzi to get anything else out. Her vision blurs with tears. She looks down at her feet, the way her skin stands out lighter than the dark wash of the wooden flooring. She can feel Paige still looking at her.

She inhales. And then it all comes out, a tidal wave spewing. Her voice is quiet and it shakes a little, but her words are quick to come out all the same. “It was just hard. To be raising a kid without my own mom. And I just kept…spiralling, y’know? Like, it felt like all the grief had just come back. ‘Cause we had Kaitlin, and I will never regret giving her that name, but it was so hard to hear her called Katie and know the woman she was named after was dead.

“It just got hard to be a mom after a while. On top of all the career stuff that was stressing me out. And I just missed my mom so much, ‘cause I wanted her help ‘cause we were so young to be mothers, and…she was just gone. Y’know? And I didn’t tell you anything ‘cause you were just also stressed. I just felt really alone. And nicotine helped when she died, so I just…started again.” She’s nearly whispering as she finishes.

“Azzi,” Paige says. The sound of her name gets Azzi to look up a little. Her gaze flickers up to Paige, takes in the way she looks almost defeated standing in front of her. Her eyes are glassy enough to blur her features, but her shape is still so obviously Paige in a way Azzi recognizes after years of loving. “I’m so sorry.”

Azzi sighs. It’s tight in her throat, a little wet. She can see Paige take a step towards her. The gap starts to close again. Azzi raises a hand to wipe at the skin under her eyes. “It’s fine, I didn’t even tell you this,” she mumbles, trying to even her breathing even as she can sense Paige cracking a little in front of her. Paige just walks closer.

They’re strangers. They’re lovers. They’re Paige and Azzi, standing in what was their bedroom deep into the night, and Paige is stepping towards her with her arms opening a little off of her sides as Azzi wipes at her tears. “You should’ve. Oh my God, Azzi, you should’ve. I’m so sorry.” And then Azzi is wrapped in Paige’s arms, a quiet sob ripping itself from her chest at the impact.

Paige is warm against her. Their chests come flush, Azzi’s head immediately finding Paige’s shoulder and settling there as tears start to fall from her eyes. Paige’s arms are firm where they wrap around her back. It feels like she’s scared of letting go. And Azzi doesn’t want her to let go, so she tries to hold her breath to make her crying quieter, wraps her arms around Paige’s neck so their parting will have to be on shared terms. “You should’ve even had to say anything. I should’ve noticed something was up.”

Azzi shakes her head a little. “That isn’t your responsibility, you were so fucking busy,” she breathes, voice wet. She wishes she didn’t find the comfort in Paige’s embrace that she did, because if not, it would be so much easier to pull away and dust herself off and know she would be able to move on from this in the morning. But she can’t. She knows she won’t find a way over it.

“You were my wife, Azzi. Of course it was my responsibility.” Paige’s voice is a little raw where it is by her ear. Azzi squeezes her eyes shut. Wetness drips from them and lines her skin. She feels like something is trying to claw itself out of her, an evil trying to expel itself. One of her hands fists the fabric of her t-shirt to hold Paige tighter. “I got so wrapped up in working. I thought I was helping our family. I shouldn’t’ve drowned you out like that. Why did you never say anything? I would’ve helped you, you know that.”

Her eyes open and she can barely see out of them. Her makeup is wet on her face and her vision is horrible through it and through the dim lighting of her bedroom. “‘Cause I knew you were working hard. I didn’t want to…add another thing.”

Paige goes quiet for a moment. “And then I just…divorced you.” She says it quietly, almost like she doesn’t believe it.

Azzi laughs a little. It’s wet and bitter, though not really directed at Paige. “What were you supposed to do? Stay married to me?”

“Yes,” Paige immediately answers, and Azzi feels her body weaken at the easy way she had said that. Paige’s grip on her only tightens. Azzi lets herself be pressed farther into her. “I was supposed to help you, Azzi, and I was being so selfish and didn’t think about why you’d be so addicted. I was just mad that you were. I was just mad that you were so, like, dependent on it,” she says, her voice almost a rasp.

Azzi shakes her head again. Her face drags itself against Paige’s shoulder. Her eyes hurt. “It was an impossible situation. Neither of us did the right thing.” She feels Paige shaking her head back. Azzi sniffs a little. Her hand stays tightly gripping the fabric of her shirt. “I could’ve said something. And all those times we fought, I was fighting back. It wasn’t just something you did.”

Paige exhales against her. It shakes a little the same way Azzi’s does. She’s on the verge of tears. Azzi can feel it in the ache of her own ribs. “We fought so much,” Paige whispers. Her voice is light and curls off of her lips like smoke Azzi inhales back. Her chest shudders.

“I know,” she breathes. Paige just shakes her head again. Azzi squeezes her eyes shut. Her face screws up a little. There’s real and raw hurt dripping itself throughout her entire body like she’s been stabbed with an IV of it and can’t undo the taping. “I know, I know,” she repeats. Her voice is still quiet. There are still tears dripping down her face and onto the fabric of Paige’s shirt.

“I regret divorcing you,” Paige says very suddenly. She pulls her head away from Azzi’s shoulder to look at her. Azzi feels something within her crack open, heat oozing from it and stickying her and making it hard to breathe. She pulls back to look at Paige. Her eyes are wide, the blue of them swallowing Azzi even dimmed in the night. A lump raises in Azzi’s throat. They look at each other with wet eyes.

“I’m sorry if I’m saying this and you’ve moved on, but I regret divorcing you, and I regret fighting with you all the time, and I regret just fucking you and hoping something physical would make me be okay with losing you forever. Because I still love you so much and I am so, so sorry that I did that.” Paige’s voice shakes a little. It doesn’t matter, though, because it’s the only thing Azzi thinks she’s ever wanted to hear in her life. Paige still loves her.

“Paige,” she chokes out, another sob ripping from her chest. She surges forward again to press them as close to each other as they can get. Her hands fist at her shirt again. She’s crying, eyes swollen, skin tight, body jittering as she tries to get close enough to Paige to force them into becoming one being. She wants to crawl into her skin. Her knees buckle a little, weight tipping onto Paige.

She feels Paige start to stumble backwards a little. One of her hands reaches out and catches on Azzi’s dresser, and then they’re sliding down it, both of their legs weak as they cry and hold each other. Azzi scrambles to get even closer to Paige as the woman slides her back down the dresser. Paige’s legs open a little to let Azzi settle between them. Azzi grips the front of her shirt. Her head tucks itself into the crook of Paige’s neck. Paige holds her tightly, head bowed a little and jaw pressing against Azzi’s face.

They cry. It’s nearly silent. Azzi still shakes in Paige’s arms. It’s a release she’s been craving for weeks now. Her room is dark around them. The moonlight licks over them and softens them from statues to a breathing work of art, hiccuping and wet and falling apart into one another. Azzi can’t speak for a while. She’d like to tell Paige she still loves her. She just hopes the other woman can tell by her reaction to the words that she does.

Azzi loses track of time. She loses track of herself. They sit against her dresser for a long time. Azzi just lets herself stay slumped against Paige until she’s cried for so long that her eyes are too puffy to see out of and her face feels raw. She stays gripping the front of Paige’s shirt the entire time. It’s wet with her own tears. The top of her head is damp with Paige’s where they can roll off of her jaw.

Crying slips into silence. Azzi’s eyes stay shut. She stays cuddled up into Paige on the hard ground. It’s not at all comfortable, but she’s with Paige, and so she doesn’t care. Paige’s breathing evens out a little bit against her. Their faces dry. Azzi wants sleep so badly she almost aches with it. “It’s probably time to get ready for bed,” Paige eventually mumbles. Her voice is a little rasping.

Azzi sighs against her. Her forehead is pressed against Paige’s neck, head turned to the side. She draws her legs up a little where they lay on the wooden floor. “I don’t wanna get up.” The words of protest are mumbled. She’s almost surprised she has a voice to speak them.

Paige hums a little bit. “But you’re gonna be mad at yourself in the morning if you sleep in your makeup. You hate doing that. And you hate sleeping without brushing your teeth.” The hand wrapped around Azzi’s back and sitting against her bicep starts gently rubbing up and down her skin in soothing motions that do nothing to encourage her to get up.

Her eyes stay closed. “No, I don’t care, you just always say that ‘cause you hate sleeping without brushing your teeth,” she says. A quiet, wet laugh trails after the words.

Paige makes a similar sound. “I know,” she murmurs, and Azzi just goes quiet again, leaning into the comfort of being held by the woman. Her body wants to lull her to sleep. She’s not particularly feeling like fighting back. Paige keeps smoothing her palm over the skin of Azzi’s arm. “At least put real pajamas on. And get in bed.”

She sighs again at the break in their silence. Tries to blink her eyes open, gives up when she feels that her top lashes have been glued to her bottom ones by her tears. “And you’ll come, too? You’re gonna stay, right?” Her voice is a little hoarse. She knows the question is a little pathetic. She asks anyway.

“Yeah,” Paige says softly. Azzi hums and promptly continues to refuse to get off of the floor. Paige humors her for a little longer. Azzi can feel the night creeping all over them, chill trying to trace its way up her spine and make her lids even heavier than they already are. “Will you get up if I take off your makeup and put on your pajamas?”

Azzi makes a quiet groaning noise. Her face screws up a little. “I don’t wanna be useless,” she mumbles.

“You’re not useless. You’re tired and you just cried a lot. It’s been a rough night.” Paige’s voice is soft and soothing in her ear. She’s kind to her, kinder than Azzi thinks she deserves after all they’ve done to each other, and it’s almost bittersweet. Paige sighs quietly. Azzi makes a similar noise. “It’s been a rough year.” Her eyes sting a little at this sentence, spoken quietly.

Azzi pulls away to look up at her. Paige immediately meets her eye, face soft and a little sunken with fatigue through the dark. “I promise I’m better. I’m not doing nic anymore and I don’t usually get like this when I drink.” Her voice cracks a little as she says it.

Paige’s brows knit slightly. She looks almost concerned, but Azzi knows her better than to think she’s pitying Azzi right now. “I know. I’m not gonna hold this against you or anything, Az,” she says quietly. Her arms are still around Azzi and the younger girl can feel her start to pull on her a little, a wordless request for her to come back and settle into Paige again.

Azzi fights it. Her body stiffens just a little, eyes glassing over more. Her jaw shakes a little when she parts her mouth to speak, lip quivering pathetically. It feels like there’s something physically in her throat she needs to cough up if she wants to breathe again. “Also, like…I love you, too, if you couldn’t tell,” she forces out. It’s barely above a whisper. She blinks rapidly to try to clear the tears that have just found her eyes.

Paige frowns just a little. “Don’t cry again,” she murmurs, pulling at Azzi again, and Azzi gives in this time. She leans back into her chest and sets her head against the crook of her neck and presses her weight and warmth into Paige like they’ll become one body if she melts into her far enough. Paige sighs softly against the top of her head. Azzi’s lids feel heavy.

They stay like that for a few more minutes before wordless agreement breaks over them again, before Azzi’s pulling away just enough to get up on her feet and Paige is removing an arm from around her to grab at the dresser and pull herself up. Azzi feels a little dizzy when she stands. Her bedroom is dark around her. She uses the moonlight to start walking to her bathroom, squinting a little. She can feel Paige right behind her.

They don’t turn on any lights. Azzi’s glad for it. Her head is already pulsing a little with a headache from all of her crying and the alcohol that has already dripped itself out of her system. She can see the shapes of them in the mirror, of Paige yawning a little in clothes that drape off of her and Azzi with fatigue caked onto her skin where her little outfit can’t cover her.

She stands in front of the sink. Paige steps to stand with her. Azzi looks at them both for a moment, gaze hovering over Paige’s eyes turned gray in the dark and her own turned black, and then turns to dig into a drawer for something to wash her face with.

She doesn’t know how, but somewhere between wetting the soft towel with micellar water and raising it to her face, Paige takes it with one hand and uses the other to gently turn Azzi to face her and begins wiping mascara off of her eyes and blush off of her cheeks and bronzer off of her forehead. They’re both silent. Azzi’s eyes stay closed. She can feel them fluttering just a little, body yearning to look up at her.

Paige is so gentle with her movements. It makes Azzi ache differently than she’s been aching the last few weeks, but it’s an ache all the same and it makes her lean so far into the hand that’s resting against her shoulder that she’s almost surprised she’s still standing up. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles after a few minutes. Paige is softly wiping at her cheek as she says it.

“Stop apologizing. If I didn’t wanna be doing this, I wouldn’t’ve offered. I wouldn’t be doing it. I wouldn’t be here. I’m doing it ‘cause I care about you.” She starts to rub the cloth at Azzi’s lips to wash away the makeup there. She can’t open her mouth to speak. She just accepts it, standing there with shut eyes. “And I know that this makes things complicated. But we can work it out, okay?” She’s mumbling, voice lilting up a little.

The cloth moves away from Azzi’s mouth. It moves to the bridge of her nose and then slides up to her forehead. She cracks her eyes open a little, nearly squinting at Paige through the dark. The blonde glances down from her forehead to her eyes when she does so. “Well…Can I also be sorry for being mean to you? After we got divorced?”

Paige sighs a little. It’s not one that really holds any negative emotion. “Yeah. I’m also sorry for being mean to you. But don’t worry about getting, like, everything out of the way tonight. We don’t have to figure everything out tonight and talk every single thing out and create a master plan for the future. There are things we’re gonna be sorry about. There are things we’re gonna worry about. But it’s gonna be okay.” Her voice is even.

Azzi’s lips soften into a little bit of a pout. Paige looks at her, eyes sweet. She reaches out to grab at her, to increase contact, to steady herself against the woman standing in front of her. Her hands find purchase on both of her elbows. “Why’re you so smart right now?” The words are mumbled. Her palms cusp around the curve of bent elbows.

Paige exhales a soft laugh. “Only right now? Still being mean to me, I see,” she teases lightly. And the familiarity of the poking fun at each other doesn’t fully soothe Azzi, but it does start to, something within her trying to flicker to life.

She smiles a little. “I didn’t mean it like that, shut up,” she says, rolling her eyes. Paige laughs quietly again. Silence finds them again. Azzi’s eyes try to flutter shut at the comforting feeling of Paige gently wiping at her face. “Thank you for coming over. And for talking to me. I know…Like, obviously we’ve been…weird the last year or so. And especially the last few weeks. But thank you for doing that anyway.” Her voice is quiet.

Paige nods once. “Thank you for talking to me. I’m still so sorry about not trying to help you more.” The cloth hiccups against her skin, pausing as she speaks. Azzi can feel the way it’s not accidental. The way her entire body halts for a moment as she thinks.

Azzi squints a little at Paige, squeezing both of her elbows gently. Paige’s eyes flicker from her forehead down to her eyes. “What did you just say about being sorry?” Her voice is quiet. Paige’s face softens with a gentle smile, eyes dimmed but still a little shiny in the moonlight. She hums so quietly Azzi barely hears it. The cleansing of her face continues.

They go silent again. Azzi bathes in it, a little. Bathes in the intimacy of it, of the quiet way Paige is still willing to care for her, of the slightly aching and tender way she’s still letting Paige in. Her hands stay against Paige’s elbows. She wipes at her face, and then squeezes toothpaste onto her brush, and then stands there and watches her through the mirror as she brushes her teeth. She rinses the brush as Azzi wipes at her mouth and reaches for something to tie her hair up.

The water runs quietly into the bowl of the sink. Azzi’s eyes feel heavy and dry. Her head aches horribly. She closes her eyes and grunts a little as she reaches up behind herself to pull her hair into a single shape. “‘m already hungover. I can feel it.” The water turns off. Paige hums a little. Azzi’s eyes try to flutter shut.

Paige exhales a quiet laugh. “You need to get to bed,” she mumbles, and Azzi scrunches her nose a little and squints into her reflection. The strap of her top cuts into her shoulder as she messes with her curls. Paige moves around the bathroom with ease, setting her toothbrush into its holder and putting away her toothpaste and extra hair ties where they belong. It shouldn’t be surprising to Azzi; it was her home for five years the same way they had been each others’ homes for that time.

Azzi ties her hair up and then wanders out to the main area of her bedroom again. She picks a sleep shirt out from her closet and slips off the outfit she had gone out in, stripping the scent of booze and sweat with it. Paige waits patiently by the bed. When Azzi’s changed, they both crawl onto the mattress, bodies immediately tangling together. It’s so familiar it almost hurts. They lay on their sides and curl into each other, Azzi’s head just underneath Paige’s chin.

She can feel Paige’s exhales ghosting along the parting of her hair. It’s comforting in an odd way. She stares at the hollow of Paige’s throat, the shadows and highlights of it illuminated in the moonlight. She’s tired. She still tilts her head up a little. She’s unable to see Paige’s face but can tell the shifting of her head against the pillow has caught her attention. “So…like, what do we do?”

Paige pauses for a moment. “Well, wha’d’you mean?” She sounds tired. The night is licking stripes up their throats and making their voices a little husky with dry fatigue.

Azzi blinks at Paige’s neck. She feels the arm Paige had thrown over her body shift a little, fingertips dancing lightly over her spine through the fabric of her t-shirt. The touch is gentle. “Well. I’m glad we, like, talked tonight, but we’re still divorced.”

A bout of silence. Azzi blinks again. “I dunno.” Paige sighs a little after she says it. Azzi reaches forward and curls her fingers into the front of her t-shirt the way she had while they were sitting on the floor. It’s comforting. “We could try dating again.”

She pauses. “Okay,” Azzi says. The word loses itself into Paige’s front. She starts rubbing the fabric of Paige’s t-shirt between her fingers. It’s a nervous tic. She can barely see anything through the dark and tries to focus on the feeling of it in her hand and the feeling of Paige wrapped into her. “But, like, trading your daughter for shared custody with your girlfriend is…weird,” she eventually says. Her mouth quirks up a little with the beginning of a smile.

Paige exhales a soft laugh. The air gusts itself along the top of Azzi’s head. “Well. Maybe we could just…speed up the process. Live with each other again after only a little while.”

She doesn’t even fully know what Paige means as “the process,” but she bites anyway. “We’re gonna do the whole process again?”

A soft sigh. “We’ve been separated for almost a year. Things change, people change. I know I still love you, but I haven’t been with you for a while.” Azzi nods a little against Paige. Paige sighs a little again.

“Okay, yeah. We prolly shouldn’t just jump in.” She pauses for a moment. Paige is still against her. Azzi swallows. “I wanna be with you, though,” she mumbles into her.

Paige gently thumbs over her back. It’s comforting in the dark. “Me too. Maybe we can just super speed up the process.”

Azzi sighs quietly. “I’m down for that.” Her voice is quiet, the words barely enunciated.

Paige suddenly rolls onto her back. Azzi’s front is left to feel the stale air of the Californian night, her air conditioning trying to beat back the heat. She blinks her eyes until they’re a little more open. “This is complicated,” Paige mumbles, looking up at the ceiling. Azzi’s gaze traces her side profile through the dark. The slope of her nose, the jut of her Cupid’s bow, the splay of her lashes. She doesn’t sound like she’s actually upset.

Azzi sighs quietly. She stays where she is on her side and looks at Paige next to her. Her chest rises and falls in the dark with her breathing and Azzi likes that she can see it. “I know. But I think we can figure it out.” She murmurs the words to Paige. Paige doesn’t turn to look at Azzi, but Azzi watches as the carved features of her face soften a little with the beginning of a smile tipped up towards the ceiling.

“You think?” Her voice is quiet. Azzi can’t fight the small grin that starts to smooth over her face, pulling at the edges of her mouth and crinkling her already hooded eyes. The blankets between them shift a little. Azzi starts to prop herself up.

“Yeah,” she says as she moves and settles her chin on Paige’s chest. Paige immediately cranes her neck a little to look at her. Her arm comes around Azzi to wrap over her back. Azzi lets herself just look down at Paige from where her chin is perched. Her mouth goes a little dry searching for her next words. Paige is smiling at her, eyes squinted. Azzi’s own sting a little. “When my mom died, you always told me baby steps would be what got me to being okay. We’ll just take baby steps. And we’ll be okay.”

Paige softens at this. She reaches a hand up from her side and gently cards her hand through Azzi’s hair, using her nails to drag her baby hairs away from her forehead. The touch is tender and makes Azzi want sleep even more. “Just really fast baby steps.” Her lips twist with a gentle smile she fights.

Azzi snorts softly, eyes still barely glassy. “Baby steps on a treadmill,” she says, and Paige grins at her, eyes squinting. Azzi can tell how gummy it is through the dark. It’s an adorable expression. Azzi laughs a little again to herself. Paige continues to pet her hair. “God, could you imagine Kitty on a treadmill?”

Paige laughs at this. “I can’t imagine her staying upright for longer than four seconds max,” she says, and Azzi laughs, eyes threatening to shut a little with the upwards press of her cheeks into her eyes. Paige pets her hair one last time and then moves to roll them back to the position they had been in earlier. “Okay, stop, we’re supposed to go to bed. Not imagining our daughter eating shit on a treadmill.”

She laughs into Paige’s chest. “It’s really funny, though,” she says. Paige shoves her shoulder a little and Azzi’s entire face feels like it’s going to slip off of her skull with how easily her smile is splitting open her entire face. Their legs tangle under the blankets. Their arms wrap around each other. Azzi exhales her last laugh out and tucks herself under Paige’s chin again. “Okay. Goodnight. We’re done.”

chapter four

Azzi had met Paige when she was fifteen and the other girl was sixteen. It had been at an audition in San Francisco. They had hit it off immediately and kept in contact, quickly becoming best friends. Azzi developed a crush on the older girl about four months after they had started talking. Paige, Azzi had been told after they started dating just after Azzi’s sixteenth birthday, had liked her since they met.

They had married young. Nineteen and twenty, still in college, the both of them swollen with hope and love. Azzi had never loved anyone else the way she loved Paige and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to love anyone else that way. Her mother’s passing a little over a year before their marriage was what really sealed it for her: Paige had proved she would always be there for her and Azzi knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with her.

Children had always been something they knew they wanted. Neither wanted to carry, and so adoption seemed like an appropriate solution. Paige first started getting good work in Los Angeles right as Azzi was finishing up school. They moved when Azzi was twenty-one. The adoption agency had offered them the opportunity to adopt an infant girl that same year. Kaitlin Mae Fudd-Bueckers was brought home soon after. Their Katie Cat. Kitty.

Azzi really was in love with Paige. She thinks that’s still the most devastating part of all of it. For nine years, Paige was her person. For five, she was her wife. And then Paige got attention and money and Azzi got less than she did and stress and addiction dragged its ugly claws against them until Paige was serving her divorce papers. But that wound has healed over. The bleeding scratches still left on Azzi’s own skin are just scars now. She’s fine, and now that she knows what it’s like to be in love with Paige, she knows that she isn’t anymore.

Like most nights out do, Thursday night starts with Azzi receiving multiple texts from multiple group chats about going out. People want a party. Someone is throwing. There are addresses and times sent, and then pregame groups formed, and then conversations spilling across multiple platforms as people plan. Azzi watches it all. Responds to questions about her availability, likes the message when Violet offers to host the pregame. She’ll be there.

Selfishly, she wants Paige to be there. She’s gotten used to her presence when she goes out. Gotten used to fucking her after. She sits in front of her mirror and finger coils her hair and mouths the words of the song she’s listening to and pretends she’s not daydreaming of finding her ex while they’re out, maybe forcing her into some half-hearted argument, and then leaving together. It’s disgusting. It’s what Azzi wants.

The pregame is what it always is: little, loud, and fun. It’s their same little group with an extra few girls and guys with them, standing around Violet’s kitchen and sipping from glasses of alcohol. A small speaker set on the kitchen island plays music underneath the sound of them talking and laughing. Azzi is starting to feel the familiar buzz under her skin of being tipsy. She’s standing with Emi and Caroline. The others are crowded around the phone of a girl Azzi just barely recognizes, laughing at photos she’s pulled up of people she doesn’t know.

Emi leans a little towards her. Azzi doesn’t even turn to look at her, just letting her presence come closer, her hair tickle Azzi’s bare shoulder a little bit. She’s very clearly already bordering on past tipsy. “Azzi, sorry if this is forward, but I feel like you’ve been a little stressed. You should try to get laid tonight.” Azzi blinks and her eyes widen.

She turns to look at Emi. The girl’s face is completely lax with casual sincerity. She hears Caroline literally choke next to her, wet sputtering coming from her mouth. Azzi whips her head to look at her. She’s wiping at the skin under her nose with the back of her hand, looking at Azzi. “Sorry. I- Went down the wrong pipe.” Her voice sounds nasally.

Emi clearly opts to ignore this, a hand reaching up and settling itself on her shoulder. Azzi turns to look at her again. “I’ve just never seen you leave with anyone. Like, if Nick’s throwing, there’ll definitely be a lot of hot guys there.” Caroline clears her throat.

Azzi raises one brow. “I’m a lesbian,” she says, a smile twitching at her lips.

“Hot people,” Emi immediately amends. Azzi laughs a little. Caroline sniffs to her side, still clearly trying to smooth over whatever had just happened to her. Emi’s brows furrow a little. “Hot girls. Shit, yeah, I forgot you literally have an ex-wife.” She laughs and takes her hand off of Azzi’s shoulder, raising her cup to her lips again.

“I didn’t,” Caroline mutters. Azzi whips her head again. She’s sure her curls have smacked Emi at least once since the beginning of this conversation. Caroline freezes a little like she’s been caught. Azzi glares at her.

“What was that?” Caroline says absolutely nothing back. She just blinks at Azzi, lips wavering with the threat of a smile, her eyes large. Azzi’s nostrils flare a little at her. Caroline raises her glass to her mouth to hide the shape of it. Azzi turns to look at Emi again. “I’ll…Y’know what, I’ll try for it.”

Emi smiles at her. It’s loose, calm, something friendly that Azzi can’t help but mirror. “Great,” she says, and Azzi laughs a little again. Caroline takes another sip from her cup. Emi does, too, and then looks towards the others, still smiling. Azzi turns to look at Caroline. Caroline widens her eyes at her a little over the rim of her glass. Azzi, to fight the urge to laugh, raises her cup to her mouth as well.

She was already planning on getting laid tonight. When the Uber drops them off at the party - she only knows the first name of the guy hosting it, could probably Google it to find out his full name if she cared - and they step inside the house, music and conversation and body heat swallowing them, she’s already planning on getting drunk enough to allow herself to search through the house for Paige.

They make it to the drinks and Azzi pours herself a strong one. Halle laughs a little as she’s pouring the vodka. Azzi just smiles at her over the sound of the music, the lack of light painting both of them where they are. She wants to get drunk enough to allow herself to make stupid decisions. That’s bad, but that’s the truth. That’s how she’s gotten herself into this predicament. That’s how she’s going to fulfill her weird little promise to Emi and get laid.

She’s at a party. She knows she should be enjoying herself, should be drinking and hanging out with her friends and talking to people she doesn’t really know. And she does do this. She leaves the kitchen with her little group and immediately finds herself in a larger conversation, talking and laughing over the music as people’s words slur and pupils turn a little blown. She does have fun.

Azzi also just maybe wants to find a certain someone. And it’s stupid of her, and she cringes a little at herself every time she catches herself genuinely searching through a crowd of people for her, but she wants to see her. She doesn’t know where Emi got that she was stressed, but she does want to get laid. It’s not her fault if her ex-wife is the one who knows her body the best.

But she can’t find Paige. She looks the entire time she’s there, really and truly looks for her in a way that gets so desperate she should probably be laughing at herself, and she still can’t find her. It gets less and less fun as she realizes that Paige probably isn’t here. Just because they run in the same general circles doesn’t mean Azzi is guaranteed to see her every time she’s out. Just because they’re hooking up doesn’t mean Azzi will get laid every night she’s invited to be with Emi and her friends.

Azzi spends a long time wandering around with Caroline and talking to people. She spends a long time without her, too, sitting on a couch with Emi and talking and laughing with people she recognizes. It’s a lot of walking around and talking and drinking and pretending she isn’t still looking around the room for a blonde head of hair.

She doesn’t drink more after finishing her first drink. She stops enjoying herself a few hours in when she accepts she’s not going to see Paige. She stays around anyway. It comes to a head, though, when she’s standing in the kitchen with Caroline and leaves to go find Emi to ask her something. She runs into Violet on her way through the living room. She thinks she’s just going to pass her, but Violet stops her.

“Azzi,” Violet says. Her hand grabs her arm. She’s smiling, but it’s off, like it’s melting off of her face. Her eyes are rimmed. She looks lazy. Azzi squints at her through the dark to look at her, at the way she’s very clearly barely holding onto consciousness and very clearly on something. “Azzi, I have something for you.” She holds out her hand between them. It’s in a fist, fingers facing down.

Azzi, stupidly, holds her own hand out beneath Violet. She drops hers into Azzi’s and then starts peeling her fingers away from her palm. Her skin feels clammy against Azzi’s. Azzi feels something small drop into her hand, the shape of it light and foreign. Violet laughs a little. She pulls her hand away from Azzi’s. Her movements are almost childish. Azzi looks down.

It’s two pills. They’re white and the capsules are smooth, shining at her in what light can poke itself into the darkness of the house and get to her hand. She looks up at Violet again. Violet laughs again, the sound swallowed by the music playing. “Take them,” she says, nodding her head a little towards the pills. Azzi looks down at them again.

Very suddenly, she really does not want to be here anymore. She’s past her days of taking random pills at parties - had only done it once, anyways, and Paige had made her promise her she wasn’t going to do anything like that ever again after they had adopted Kitty - and doesn’t like that Violet is trying to give her these. Azzi just smiles awkwardly and closes her hand around them, looking away from Violet.

Violet laughs. “No, Azzi, take them. I’m- I wouldn’t give you any weird shit, you’re chill. It’s fun.” Her words are slurred. Azzi looks up at her again. She can’t tell if it’s alcohol, weed, or something else that has the biggest hand in rendering her to what she is now, but she doesn’t like it. She squints at her a little through the dark. Her stomach twists a little.

She leans forward and bumps Azzi’s hand with her own, as if to encourage her to move it. Azzi lifts the hand to her mouth, watching the way Violet watches her with a loose smile the entire time she does so. She holds the heel of her palm up to her chin and then starts moving her fingers a little to mime letting the pills slip from her fist into her mouth. When she’s done this for a few moments, she lifts her cup to her mouth to swallow.

Violet nods, satisfied, and then laughs again. She bumps Azzi’s shoulder with her own. Azzi curls her fingers tightly around the two pills still sitting in her palm. Her hand is sweating into them. She really hopes the moisture doesn’t melt the capsules and she ends up with whatever’s inside of them in the lines of her palm. “Come find me and Calliope in a little,” she says, shining a bright smile up at Azzi, and then somehow disappears into the crowd of people around them so quickly that Azzi nearly goes crosseyed trying to find her.

She wants to leave. Her stomach hurts. She doesn’t want to be here anymore. Pills still in one hand and her drink in the other, she starts weaving her way through the people around her, searching for her best friend. She knows she’ll probably still be in the kitchen, and she’s right when she sees a very familiar head of dark, shining hair hanging over the mini dress she’s borrowed more than a few times.

Azzi drops the pills into her empty cup and then sets the cup on the already littered counter Caroline is leaning up on. She taps on her shoulder. Caroline turns her head to look at her, neck craning. “Carol?” Her voice is barely above the volume of the music and conversation around them. Caroline hums. “I’m gonna go home, okay?”

Caroline turns a little farther to look at her. Her brows raise slightly. “With Paige?” The question is quiet but still carries a nearly teasing tone in it. It makes Azzi flush a little, because if she’s being honest, she wishes she was.

She hits Caroline on the shoulder. Caroline snickers and Azzi rolls her eyes at the sound. “No, she’s not- I didn’t even see her tonight, literally shut up,” she says. And then she sighs a little, chest becoming a little tighter again, Caroline still laughing and calm in front of her. “No, ‘m just…tired,” she says.

Caroline’s brows furrow a little. “Do you want me to leave with you?” It’s immediate and Azzi can sense the almost protectiveness in it, the way Caroline’s entire body starts to stiffen with a drunken readiness.

“No, it’s totally fine. I just didn’t want to Irish goodbye again.” Caroline nods once. She relaxes a little again, body soft in the low lighting of the party. She stays looking at Azzi, who gently hugs her from the behind, careful not to nudge her drink. “I love you, stay safe,” she says close to her ear.

“I love you, you also stay safe,” Caroline parrots as they pull away. She blows Azzi a dramatic kiss. Azzi laughs and rolls her eyes at her, the action lost to the darkness. Caroline turns again to talk to whoever is around her. Azzi steps away and starts to pull out her phone to order an Uber, sight a little hazy as she does so.

The ride home comes quickly. She steps outside to wait for it, the cool night air washing over her skin calmly. And as she stands there, she can’t help but think of Paige. She was the one person Azzi really wanted to see tonight, which sounds so ironic, but it’s true. She’s disappointed to be stepping into an Uber and for it to not house both of them.

Azzi knows it’s stupid of her. She knows she shouldn’t be missing her ex like this. It’s definitely just for the sex. Probably. Especially because Emi had randomly brought that up earlier. Azzi’s brows furrow a little at the memory. She wants to go home with someone. She wants to get laid. She wants that someone to be Paige.

It’s horrible. It’s so stupid. But she’s still a little drunk, and she’s gotten used to being allowed Paige on her nights out, and so even though it’s been barely two days since the last time they hooked up and they haven’t had a real conversation over text in probably months, she pulls out her phone and opens Paige’s contact.

azzi: paige

She’s not really expecting an answer, if she’s being honest. She receives one almost immediately.

paige: ?

azzi: dod i see u out tn

paige: i dont rhink so?

paige: r u at blackout

azzi: no i waa at nicks he was throwing

paige: damn

paige: wish i saw u

azzi: me tio

azzi: im goinf home now

paige: im ordering an uber home rn

paige: want me to stop by?

azzi: yes

paige: okay be there sion

And Azzi can’t help but feel something within her release a little at the promise of Paige showing up. Can’t help but feel some sort of calm wash over her, head falling back a little against the headrest of the backseat, body soothing itself. She doesn’t know when her want for her got this bad. She’s glad, though, that Paige will feed into it.

The drive to her house is quiet. Soft music spills through the speakers, Azzi’s body warm and fuzzy where she sits on the seats. The car pulls up to the front gate and she leans forward to recite the code. Her words don’t slur. She’s nearly sober at this point. The car rolls down the driveway until she’s getting out on the porch.

Her house is quiet and dark. She doesn’t make much noise as she wanders up the stairs to her bedroom. She feels almost like a stranger in her own house, feet bare on the stairs, each step she takes making a soft noise from her clothes or her weight or her brushing the railing and creating signs of life so small they mean almost nothing.

She steps into her bedroom. Moonlight streams in through her sheer curtains, spilling like liquid pearl along each surface. She sighs a little. The gust is short. She steps towards her closet to start taking off her clothes, the fabric of them soaked with the scent of alcohol and weed and people standing too close to her.

Azzi figures there isn’t really much point in clothing herself very thoroughly if Paige is on her way over, so she just slips out of her mini skirt and tank top and all she had been wearing underneath those and puts on a robe. The silk of it is baby pink and soft on her skin as she crosses it against her bare body and ties it loosely around her waist. Her other clothing is left on the floor of her closet. She walks out.

She’s probably been home for about ten minutes now, movements slow and almost indulgent. She walks out of the closet and towards the windows to start pulling the blackout curtains over the sheer ones. The moonlight kisses what bare skin it can reach. Her silk shines at her when it catches the light.

She’s only able to draw the curtains of one window before she hears it: the soft creak of her bedroom door opening on the other side of the room. She turns around. The doorway is an open mouth, a tall figure standing in it. Her hair is down and the moonlight pulls at the strands and makes the blonde shine heather gray. She steps a little into the room and her eyes start to catch the light, pale blue and beautiful.

Azzi starts walking towards her. Paige looks almost awkward where she is, pausing just a step in from the doorway. “I just let myself in,” she says. Her hands hang at her sides. She’s wearing a sweater vest and jorts and, while the outfit is attractive on her, Azzi desperately wishes she wasn’t wearing them. Wishes she wasn’t wearing anything. Her strides are long over the stretch of flooring between them. “I didn’t- like, I just figured-” Azzi cuts her off by closing the distance between them, reaching out to grab her face, and pulling her in to kiss her.

Paige reciprocates easily. Whatever she had been saying is forgotten. Azzi’s hands press against her cheeks and Paige places hers against her hips. It’s heated, Azzi’s abdomen starting to stretch and fold at the feeling, their tongues sliding. Paige’s fingers press into her through the silk of her robe. Azzi pulls her farther against her face.

They start stumbling back, trying to lead themselves to Azzi’s bed. Azzi moves her hands down and starts to fumble with the button of her jorts between the heat of their bodies. Paige exhales into her mouth at the feeling, her own hands starting to roam Azzi’s body over the fabric draped over her. Their breathing starts to pick up. Azzi feels like she’s been lit on fire.

She’s eventually successful in undoing Paige’s shorts and forces her to step out of them, their lips breaking contact as she does so blindly and nearly trips. Azzi takes this opportunity to flutter her eyes open and start pulling at her top as well, and Paige immediately takes the hint and tugs it off over her head. She’s not wearing a bra. Azzi gropes her chest. Paige moans a little and leans forward to grab her hips and kiss her again.

It’s bruising. They’re not careful. Azzi doesn’t care. The backs of her legs hit the bed and she wobbles a little bit. Paige reaches between them and undoes the loose knot of her robe, reaching up to slip the fabric off of her shoulders. Azzi won’t stop kissing her as she does it. She feels it crumple to the floor behind her heels between her and the bed. And then she feels Paige pushing her onto the bed and she very easily gives into this feeling.

Azzi starts to turn to scramble onto the mattress and feels Paige follow her. They’re both on their hands and knees and the moment Azzi’s far enough on the mattress to allow it, she raises herself up a little and nearly tackles Paige onto her back, the mattress swallowing them as Azzi reconnects their lips.

Paige lets herself be pushed back onto it. She lets herself lay on her back, lets Azzi keep kissing her as she moves to settle her legs between Paige’s, lets Azzi start kissing down her neck and then her chest and then her stomach. Her hips are rolling beneath her boxers before Azzi’s lips have even passed her belly button. Azzi tries not to smile at the feeling.

She knows how Paige likes to be eaten out: slow, drawn out, almost teasing but never light enough to get there. So Azzi settles herself between Paige’s legs, boxers still on, and starts the movements of her tongue. The fabric is soaked and Azzi can feel the bulge of her swollen clit through her underwear. Paige immediately groans with something like relief, head tipping back, quads flexing near Azzi’s face.

She’s not really gentle. She drags her tongue up and down Paige’s pussy, pressing heat and pressure against her. Her lips close a little and an open mouthed kiss lands itself against her clit. She drags her teeth against the fabric a little, never hard enough to actually bite, the hardness of the bones adding friction against her. “Oh my God,” Paige mumbles. Her hands grip the sheets near her hips.

Azzi’s hands reach up towards her hips and rest against the sides of them, thumbing at her skin through her boxers. She continues to lick at her cunt as she does so. Paige’s breathing gets more and more erratic as she continues, chest rising and falling shakily. Her hips feel charged, like she’s fighting the urge to grind up into Azzi’s face. She pulls away. “More?” It’s rasping.

“Yeah,” Paige breathes. Azzi digs her fingers under the waistband of her underwear and starts pulling, fabric slipping away from her skin, exposing Paige to Azzi through the darkness of her room. The moonlight spills in and she can see, as she scoots back on the mattress to get her underwear all the way off of her skin, that she’s glistening with slick and pink and puffy and beautiful.

Paige makes a soft groaning sound that almost pitches up to a whine as Azzi casts her boxers off of the bed and crawls towards her again, focused on her cunt. She can see that she’s clenching around nothing and that her legs are twitching a little with anticipation. Azzi gives in. Her mouth finds her pussy again, warm and wet and matching Paige. The moan that falls out of Paige’s mouth at the feeling makes Azzi hum into her.

She’s still slow, still a little teasing. She circles her tongue around her clit and then dips down to her entrance and collects precum around her mouth and presses sloppy kisses against her slit. Her tongue drags through her folds and then she sucks on Paige’s clit, hollowing out her mouth, glancing up through the valley of her breasts to try to find her face.

Paige is craning her neck to look down at her. Her jaw is slack, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Her hair is already messy around her head. Azzi blinks lazily up at her. Her own core tightens impossibly farther, cunt growing wetter at the way Paige is already looking at her like that. She sucks on her clit for a little longer and then moves down to tease at her hole again. Paige’s brows knit slightly with pleasure.

Her head falls back again. Azzi’s tongue pushes into her, the muscle moving and rubbing along her walls. She makes a soft noise into Paige at how obviously wet she is, at the way she won’t stop twitching underneath Azzi’s touch. “Fuck, oh my God, Azzi,” she breathes. Azzi feels hands start threading through her hair, pushing it away from her forehead and gathering it off of her neck.

She’s good at pleasuring Paige. She knows this about herself and still feels so warm deep in her core at the way Paige so easily moans and twitches under her mouth, the way her hips roll a little every time she sucks hard on her clit or drags her tongue against her slit. “So good, feels so good, don’t stop,” she moans. Her hands feel tense in Azzi’s hair like she’s fighting the urge to fist the curls tightly and pull at them. Azzi appreciates the restraint.

Her pace becomes quicker and somewhat predictable. She knows Paige likes it. She gives attention to her clit, licking and sucking and tracing with the tip of her tongue, and then drags the velvet pad of her tongue down to her hole to indulge in the slick leaking from her for a few moments before coming right back up to her clit. Paige starts to fall apart against her. She can feel it. She likes it.

“Azzi,” Paige moans. The word comes out of her mouth a little slurred, but it’s heated all the same. The sound of it pangs along Azzi’s abdomen like the echo of wind chimes, light and teasing and leaving her wanting more. She just responds by humming into her clit. Paige groans. Her fingers tighten just slightly in Azzi’s hair. Azzi digs her fingernails into the flesh stretching over Paige’s hip bones in response.

She can hear Paige’s breath getting shakier and shakier, walls clenching every time Azzi’s tongue prods them. Her ribcage opens and closes every time her spine arches and then undoes the movement. Her body moves like something Azzi can control. It just makes her hungrier. Her tongue is unforgiving against the wet heat of her pussy, lips smeared with her precum. She’s so worked up just eating her out that it hurts.

“‘m not- holy shit, ‘m gonna cum,” Paige forces out. It’s breathy and Azzi can sense the struggle of getting the words to lift off of her tongue. Azzi just hums into her, which draws another noise out of Paige, the vibrations hitting her clit. She moans a little above Azzi’s head. Azzi’s mouth doesn’t stop its movements. “‘m cumming,” Paige all but gasps.

Azzi moves her mouth from her clit to her entrance, dragging her tongue through her. Paige’s abdomen releases the knot it had been forming the moment she sticks her tongue into her hole again. A low moan frees itself from Paige’s chest. Her body tenses and shudders around Azzi as she laps at the cum dripping freely from her. She’s working her through it, guiding her through the high, tasting her slick and drawing out the pleasure of her orgasm.

Paige is undone in front of her. Something heavy and wanting prowls low in Azzi’s gut. She wants to make her even messier, drag more pleasure into the soft paleness of her body, fuck her out even further. She can tell Paige is coming down from her orgasm and does nothing to stop the movements of her mouth. Instead, she just moves back up to her clit so she’ll be able to use her fingers, feeling the way her chin presses a little against her wet folds and turns sticky.

“Wait, wait,” Paige breathes. Azzi forgets that her hands are in her hair until she uses them as leverage, pulling just enough to get Azzi’s attention and pull her off of her cunt. Azzi’s mouth stays parted. She looks up at Paige through the dark, eyes low and lips wet. Paige cranes her head up a little to meet her eye contact. The blue of her irises cuts through her eyelids and makes Azzi all but drool onto her. “Come here, wanna taste you,” she rasps.

Azzi frowns a little. She looks back down at Paige’s pussy, swollen and soaked, a pretty pink Azzi desperately wants to have dripping against her mouth and fingers again. Her entrance tightens a little with every breath she takes. “I wanna touch you,” Azzi says. It’s quiet, almost a whine. She looks back up at Paige.

Paige is licking her lips. Her tongue shines a little in the darkness. Her eyes do, too. Her pupils look blown. “Come here,” she repeats. Her grip on Azzi’s hair loosens a little as if to encourage her to start moving. Azzi stays still for just a few moments longer, looking up at Paige from between her legs, and then smiles a little, the expression lazy on her face. She starts moving.

Azzi gets up on her hands and knees between Paige’s legs and then starts crawling up her body. Paige’s head lowers back onto the pillows. She looks like she’s won. Azzi starts to flip herself, swinging one leg and then the other over Paige so it’s her ass facing Paige instead of her head. Her own face is met with the sight of Paige’s pretty pussy again, still glistening up at her through the dark.

“Oh my God,” Paige mumbles, voice a little hoarse. Azzi crawls backwards just a little farther. She can feel herself getting wetter. Two large hands, warm and almost prying, grab her ass. Her fingertips press down into the fat of the area. Azzi moans a little at the feeling. Paige uses her grip to pull her, cunt coming above her face, hands trying to pull her down to settle on her mouth.

Azzi doesn’t fight it. The warm feeling of Paige’s mouth on her floods her, a soft sound slipping from her mouth without her permission. She can feel her tongue swiping through her folds and collecting her precum against the muscle. Azzi shudders a little and presses her own face down to find Paige’s pussy again, mouth reattaching to her clit.

Paige moans into her clit. Azzi exhales at the feeling, cool breath ghosting along Paige’s folds. She reaches her hand forward and moves to start teasing her entrance with a finger. The pad of it is slightly rough and it slides easily through her folds before finding the edges of her hole. Paige’s hips buck a little at the feeling. Azzi sucks on her clit harder.

She traces the edges of her slowly, cheeks hollowing against her clit. Paige’s tongue finds its way inside of her. Her lips press against her, an open-mouthed kiss swallowing her hole. Azzi moans a little against Paige’s clit. Her finger continues to trace and tease. Paige’s legs shudder a little in front of Azzi’s face.

Azzi dips her finger into her. It goes in easily, wet with what has spilled out of Paige. She feels the way Paige arches a little at the feeling. Her ribcage digs up into Azzi’s own, their skin pressing against each other. She’s so hot underneath her. Sex has flushed them, heat and sweat drawing itself up to the surface. It feels like they’re melting into each other.

She curls her finger where it is inside of Paige. The girl beneath her all but cries out into her folds, the pleasure clearly a lot. Azzi fights the urge to smile against her clit. She pulls her finger out and immediately adds another. This adds a little bit more stretch than just one had, her walls tight but still giving as Azzi presses the digits far into her.

Paige is eating her out almost feverishly. Her movements are desperate, sending pleasure shooting up into her as Azzi fights to control her hand and mouth where it is on her. She starts to pump her fingers in and out of Paige. The rhythm is paired with gentle suckling on her clit, occasional moaning vibrating the bundle of nerves. They’re both rocking and shuddering slightly with each other.

Azzi pulls her mouth away from her after a little, fingers still fucking into her. “You like it?” The question rasps against the walls of her throat as she asks it. Paige hums into her. Her head nods a little, tongue dragging up and down through Azzi. Her breath hitches a little at the feeling. Paige doesn’t stop.

She knows she’s not going to last much longer. She tries to get her tongue out of her mouth to lick at Paige but can barely get it past the wall of her lips before she’s moaning again and her head is dropping against the inside of Paige’s thigh. Her face is so close to her folds and where her fingers are pumping in her. The scent of her arousal makes Azzi’s eyelids flutter a little.

Paige starts to knead her ass. Azzi makes a soft sound of pleasure into her pussy. She leans her head forward to take her clit between her lips again, the bite of possessive pain that latches into her lower body warming the knot forming in her gut. Her movements start to match Paige’s in their desperation, both of them quick and writhing as they work the other closer and closer to their orgasm.

After a little, Paige has to start pulling away from her a little to speak. “Azzi,” she breathes, dragging her tongue through her again the moment her name spills from her mouth. Azzi whines a little into her clit. “Az, oh my God, I can’t- ‘m not gonna last much longer,” she says. She punctuates it with a moan that lifts to almost a whine. Her tongue finds Azzi’s entrance again. Azzi makes a similar noise.

“Me neither,” she says, warm breath ghosting over Paige’s swollen clit. Her fingers are making incredibly wet noises the longer they spend pumping in and out of her. She’s so wet and so warm, clenching around her digits as they press into her. Azzi is finding it hard to keep her eyes open. They just want to roll back, pleasure gripping her spine and head and gut and twisting her into something stupid.

It’s not much longer until every breath that spills from Paige’s lips is a moan, until her entire body is twisting under Azzi’s like it’s fighting to get closer to something. “‘m gonna cum,” she says into Azzi’s folds. Azzi just hums a high-pitched sound against her clit, fingers quick inside of her as she desperately presses pleasure into Paige and feels it come right back into her.

Paige starts shaking. She cums with a moan into Azzi, wetness spilling into Azzi’s fingers. She clenches tightly with Azzi still inside of her and Azzi moans at the feeling. It’s heated and it’s wet and it’s so dirty, Azzi’s abs tightening with the promise of a similar release. Paige’s entire body is seizing underneath Azzi’s. She can feel her muscles contracting and releasing as her orgasm washes over her.

She continues to push Azzi closer to her own orgasm. Azzi removes her fingers from inside of Paige and opts to use only her mouth to work her through her high, tongue dragging through her and licking up the cum that has dribbled all over her skin. Azzi whines a little as she does this. Paige’s tongue is inside of her and the feeling of it gives her only a few more moments of clarity as she tries to clean Paige up a little before she’s nearly blacking out with pleasure.

“Holy shit, ‘m cumming, fuck,” she gasps. Her lips brush against Paige’s folds as she says it. Paige just squeezes her ass again, a soft sound tucking itself inside of Azzi. Azzi’s face screws up. Her body tightens. The knot in her stomach does, too, and then blissfully releases.

White-hot pleasure splashes over her. A choked moan falls from her lips, neck going slack as her head rests against Paige’s thigh again. She can feel her cum dripping from her and onto Paige. Paige hums a little into her and continues licking her through it. Her legs are shaking. Her hips are jolting and she can’t tell if they’re trying to get away from Paige’s tongue or closer to it. Either way, she feels so hot all over, her high dragging ecstasy through her like the tide crashing into a rock.

When her moaning gives way to whimpering, when Paige shudders every time Azzi touches her and Azzi is trying to pull herself away from Paige’s mouth, they both stop. Paige lays on the mattress, unmoving, chest heaving against Azzi’s pelvis with every breath. Azzi’s head stays against her thigh. She tilts it so her breathing won’t touch Paige’s overstimulated cunt. Her eyes flutter a little and she can feel the drag of her lashes against Paige’s bare skin.

They stay like that for a little while. Not long enough for them to completely calm down, but enough for Azzi to stop shaking. She pushes herself up off of Paige’s legs and moves to pull herself away onto the mattress. Her legs quiver a little as she does this. She can feel how she’s still absolutely soaked between them and makes a soft noise as she moves to the bed, laying on her side and almost perpendicular to Paige, curling her legs in.

The hands that had just been kneading her ass find her back, a large palm rubbing softly over the knobs of her spine. It’s comforting. She softens at the touch and the way the friction of it presses a gentle warmth against her skin. Her heart is still quick in her chest. “You good?” Azzi hums a quiet affirmative. “Can you go again?”

At this, Azzi can’t help but laugh softly, her exhale breathing itself into her sheets. Paige continues gently rubbing her back. Azzi doesn’t move. She stays laying there, legs already feeling a little sore, breath still quick in her chest. Fingers and mouth still wet with Paige’s cum. “Yeah,” she breathes. Paige’s hand moves from along her back to settle against her hip, where the curve of it swells away from her waist.

She starts moving after a few moments. Her arms push her up, body weak. She looks over her shoulder at Paige. The girl is already sitting up behind her. Her body is soft in the moonlight that washes over the bed. She’s beautiful, bare and flushed and smiling a little at Azzi with a darkness in the depths of her eyes Azzi clings to. “Wanna have my fingers in you. In front of the mirror.”

Azzi turns forward again. To the side of the bed, just by the foot of it, is the full length mirror they’ve kept there since moving in. They had fucked in front of it a few times while married. Azzi hadn’t moved it when they had divorced. Something low curls in her stomach. “Fuck,” she mumbles, turning to look back at Paige again. The girl is just grinning a little at her. Her eyes are blown. They swallow Azzi.

She starts crawling towards the edge of the bed that holds the mirror. She can hear Paige following after her, sheets crinkling a little with her movement. The tension of the chase for an orgasm starts to form itself deep in Azzi’s belly again, twisting and folding over itself. She moves so she’s in view of the mirror. Paige is right behind her.

The moonlight spills over them. It’s soft but still brightening enough that she can see the both of them in the reflection, the high points of their features shining a little. Azzi’s eyes are blown. Her mouth is parted, her lips and the skin around them still wet. Her hair is a mess of wild curls from Paige’s pulling. Paige comes closer behind her. Her face, too, shines with slick, her hair tangled behind her head. Azzi’s back presses against her chest. The soft shape of her breasts imprints itself along her skin.

“Come here,” Paige breathes. She reaches around to Azzi’s front to start pulling at her legs, moving her to a position she likes. Azzi lets herself get pulled. She lets herself be malleable, lets Paige move her until she’s sitting between her legs, her own legs bent up with her feet on the outside of Paige’s knees. She’s exposed. The wet brown and pink of her folds shines up at her from between her legs. “Yeah,” she says quietly in Azzi's ear. It’s so intimate.

She watches in the mirror as Paige loops a hand in front of her and reaches pale fingers down towards the heat between her legs. The veins that raise off of the back of her hand carve soft shadows into her skin, moonlight reflecting off of her. Her fingertips graze over her clit. “Oh my God,” Azzi mumbles, fighting the urge to tip her head back against Paige’s shoulder. Paige slowly presses two fingers inside of Azzi, the warm shape of them stretching her. “Fuck, Paige.”

Paige starts fucking her. It’s slow for a little, cautious, waiting for Azzi to adjust. It picks up when her soft whimpers give to low moans. They get louder as Paige fucks her harder, the skin of her palm slapping a little against her. Azzi reaches a hand up and grabs at the arm in front of her, gripping Paige’s bicep. “You like this, huh? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers like this?” Paige says it close to her ear. It makes it hard for Azzi to focus. She’s so warm all over.

“Yes, yes, shit,” she breathes, watching them move in the mirror. She watches as Paige’s fingers press in and out of her, as her own body rolls a little with the contraction and release of her abs through the pleasure. It sounds so obscenely wet. Her face is lax, jaw slack and lids heavy. “‘m not- fuck, ‘m not gonna last long,” she breathes out around her moaning. Paige just hums a little close to her ear.

Azzi’s head falls back. It finds a home in the crook of Paige’s neck, hair pressing into her shoulder and throat. Her cheek settles against the cut of Paige’s jaw. She watches through lidded eyes as Paige adjusts to her movement, fingers still pumping in and out of her. “So good for me,” she murmurs. Azzi whimpers a little. She reaches the hand not gripping Paige’s arm up and behind herself, grabbing at the nape of Paige’s neck. She’s pulling her closer. She doesn’t stop to think why, only moans brokenly when Paige lets herself press a little farther into Azzi, fuck her fingers into her a little harder. “So good on my fingers.”

The knot in her stomach is extremely tight. She knows her orgasm is close. She knows Paige can tell, too, because she moves her head to tip Azzi’s over and reveal her neck. She starts kissing it, nipping lightly, adding another point of contact between them and another lick of pleasure against Azzi’s body. “It feels so good, please don’t stop, please don’t stop, oh my God,” she moans, her grip on Paige’s arm tightening. She’s slumped into the woman behind her.

Her breathing is quick. The room, quiet with the night, lets itself be filled with the dirty sounds of Paige fucking her. Azzi’s body shudders as she approaches the edge of release. “Look at you,” Paige murmurs, and for a moment, Azzi thinks she’s going to add a biting remark, something about how she’s whoring herself out for Paige’s fingers and she’s getting dirty. But nothing else is said. She just keeps pumping her fingers in and out of her, pleasure making Azzi dizzy. “Look at you,” she repeats. It’s soft. It sounds almost reverent.

And Azzi likes it. She’d like to say she realizes that she likes it with horror, but she quite literally cums with it, back arching against Paige’s front as she spills out of herself. Paige hums a little against her neck and continues littering kisses against the skin there as she fucks her through her orgasm. Azzi releases a guttural moan. She likes Paige being soft with her. She is very clearly no longer here for just the fight and then the sex. Paige is warm behind her and she sinks into her.

Her orgasm shudders through her. She can feel herself quivering against Paige, can feel herself dripping against her hand and over her own skin and onto the sheets. She doesn’t care. Through the haze of her lingering inebriation, through the fuzziness of her second orgasm, she can only return to one thought, one that curls up in her stomach in a different way than what she feels now: she likes Paige. She loves her. She probably has for a while now and has been too in denial to even realize it.

Loving Paige always comes like a fever. It is hot and heavy and wracks her entire body. She has never loved her without feeling the fervor and depth of it in every inch of her body. It’s why it’s so terrifying: once it comes on, she’s stuck with it. There’s no cure. She had found a temporary one in her hatred, but it’s absolutely horrifying for her to be bare on her bed, back pressed against Paige’s chest, her cum between her legs and against the sheets and dripping down Paige’s hand, and know she really does love her. Her body sweats with sex. The rest of her sweats with that familiar fever.

She comes down from her high. Her breathing doesn’t really even itself out. The shock of noticing she’s in love with her ex-wife again makes sure of this. Paige is steady and calm behind her. The woman lets them sit there for a while, silence washing over them, and then starts peeling herself away from Azzi. “Imma clean us up,” she whispers. Her voice is still soft. And Azzi just nods dumbly, staring at herself with wide eyes under sleepy lids in the mirror, watching as Paige’s body parts from her own and leaves her to just sit there.

Azzi just feels stupid, if she’s being honest with herself. She feels like an idiot. She had known that hooking up with Paige and shifting their relationship with each other would change things, would probably change her, and she did it anyway. She let Paige in anyway. She had been naive and it had come back to bite her.

The best thing to do, she knows, would be to completely cut herself off from Paige, to block her again and maybe move away and stop going out to places she knows Paige will go. But Kitty means she can’t do that. Kitty means she’ll have to see her once a week and leave her number unblocked, no matter how badly she wants to cut all contact to kill off the way she loves her. And she knows this will just perpetuate it. She knows she will struggle to push Paige away if she can’t just shut her out completely.

Paige comes back, footsteps padding, skin soft in the moonlight. Azzi watches her through the mirror. She’s still nude and she’s so beautiful. Azzi’s stomach rolls over itself as the thought spreads thick through her mind like putty melting. She’s trying to continue to stay horrified at the thought of her being in love with Paige, but it’s not really working. She’s just scared of what will come of it. Paige walks towards her, holding a washcloth in her hand, and Azzi can feel the way she physically softens at the sight.

Her legs are still drawn up the way Paige had placed them earlier. Paige walks towards her and then steps in front of her. She blocks Azzi’s view of the mirror. Her head bows and she bends down a little to get closer to her cunt, holding the wash cloth out. Azzi looks down and watches as she begins gently swiping the warm, damp fabric over her skin. She’s so careful. It makes something within Azzi glow warmly, and that feeling makes her scared again.

Paige brushes too close to where she’s sensitive. She twitches, legs threatening to close, a sharp breath sucking itself up through her nose. Paige looks up from where she is between her legs. Her brows are slightly raised, eyes soft. They shine up at her. She blinks and her lashes bat. Azzi is so gone. “‘m sorry,” she says quietly, looking down between her legs again.

More swiping. More touching her lightly where she’s just been pulled apart from, more slight shuddering from Azzi. “I know, I know,” she breathes. She’s almost cooing. She moves her head slightly to the side and Azzi watches as she gently purses her lips. She presses a kiss against the inside of her thigh, soft and warm. There is no bite to it. Azzi’s eyes threaten to close with the comfort that tucks itself into her at the action.

This is casual? This is what your ex does right after hooking up again and right before going back to hating you? Paige straightens up a little more from where she stands and fumbles with the washcloth to find another clean area. She leans forward and starts gently cleaning the skin around Azzi’s mouth, her movements still so soft. Azzi can feel the press of her finger through the fabric as she wipes at her face. She looks down to avoid making eye contact. She can’t do it. She can’t look at her when they’re like this, when Azzi feels like this.

Paige moves to clean Azzi’s hand. The cloth runs over the webbing between her fingers, over her nails, against each knuckle and the skin between them. She just watches in silence. She doesn’t know what else to do. What to say. She’s sweating where she sits on the edge of the bed, still exposed. Paige is quiet, too. Azzi’s breath is a little shaky every time it leaves her lungs.

“I thought this was bigger when I grabbed it,” Paige muses quietly as she finishes wiping off Azzi’s hand. Azzi blinks at the washcloth. It is fairly small, the soft brown of the fabric damp in the dark and very clearly covered in water and what Paige has just wiped off of her skin. “Imma get a different one for me, ‘kay?” Azzi hums a little in acknowledgement. The sound breaks a little in the back of her throat. Paige says nothing about it. She just walks away.

Azzi feels almost claustrophobic where she is. She watches in the mirror as Paige wanders to the bathroom again, skin still bare and still shining a little in the moonlight. She needs to get outside. She needs fresh air, a place to breathe, somewhere to let her body swell with the fear that has begun to breed itself inside of her.

She closes her legs and slips off of the bed without thinking. A sleep shirt lays lazily on the ground. She pulls it over her head. Wanders to her drawers, but not to find any more clothing. Digs around for a little until she finds a familiar shape. Pulls out her vape, sleek and shining where the moonlight can hit the smooth paint of it. She takes it and walks across the room to the sliding door out to the balcony.

The night is cool around her. The air is still, no sign of a breeze to freshen her skin, but she doesn’t care. She feels infinitely better outside than she did inside. She leaves the door open, leaves her legs bare, feels the cool concrete of the floor beneath her feet as she walks out. The balcony connected to the master bedroom is beautiful, stretching out towards the backyard and overlooking the back porch and the pool and the lawn. She would like to lean against the railing, but her legs feel weak, so she settles for curling up into the couch.

Azzi hits her vape. The nicotine swirls deep in her chest, smoke filling her lungs. It’s comforting in a way she hates. She feels gross for doing it. But she’s so incredibly anxious right now and doesn’t know another way to calm herself down. So she sits on the couch, nude except for the big t-shirt she had thrown over herself, breathing in the nicotine from the device.

She doesn’t really plan on coming back inside. She doesn’t plan on doing anything else for the rest of her life, except for maybe regretting everything she’s ever done to get her here. To get her to this point, where she’s fallen back in love with her ex-wife, and the only thing she knows how to do to keep herself from falling apart at the realization is the same thing that had split them in the first place. Her stomach hurts.

She doesn’t know what she was expecting Paige to do, if she’s being honest. Probably Uber home or something after seeing Azzi was missing from the bed. Maybe stay there, waiting, skin damp where she had just cleaned herself, and then just leave when Azzi didn’t return. Not notice the ajar door to the balcony and step out onto it, glass sliding shut behind her, the soft rumbling alerting Azzi of her presence after only a few minutes of being alone out there.

Azzi doesn’t move from where she is. Smoke curls off of the pout of her lips. She stares out into her backyard, into the long stretch of green grass and the pool with shining water and the tennis court tucked behind some trees and the playset Paige had paid to be custom built for Kitty. What used to be their backyard. What is now only hers, her house, her life, because she’d been an addict and Paige couldn’t help but hate her for it. Paige has somehow crawled her way back into it. She’s terrified. She raises her vape to her lips again.

“I hate it when you do that.” Her voice is next to Azzi, which startles her just enough to get her to pull the vape away, half an inhale’s worth of smoke breathing itself out of her. She looks to the side. Paige is next to her, still walking, rounding the edge of the couch she’s tucked herself into to walk in front of her. She, too, is wearing only a t-shirt.

Azzi looks forward again without looking her in the eye. Her grip tightens slightly where it is. Her eyes feel blank as she looks out into the backyard. “Do what?” The response is stupid. She’s stupid. Paige passes in front of her, walking around her. Walking towards the couch.

The cushions dip. Paige sits down next to her. Azzi turns to watch her. “Vape, Azzi. Don’t play dumb.” Paige settles herself into the cushions, long legs pulling up to cross underneath herself. Azzi’s are drawn up into her knees and slanted a little with the way she leans her entire body into the arm of the couch.

Paige turns and looks at her. Her face is hard again, but different from the way it’s been hard every time Azzi has fought or flirted with her in the darkness of a club or a party the last few weeks. It’s a sternness that makes Azzi’s skin threaten to crawl because of the way there’s a softness beneath it, like it would crack and ooze if she put pressure on it. She fights shivers. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why ‘m doing it. Just…stressed, I guess.”

Paige’s brows furrow just slightly. The shine of her irises feels like it’s cutting her through the dark. “About what?” Azzi pauses, just looking at her. She shakes her head. She cannot tell Paige she’s stressed because she’s realized she’s fallen back in love with her. The night licks over her skin. She blinks at Paige. Paige blinks back.

Paige lifts one arm and extends a large hand, fingers outstretched. Azzi glances down into her palm. It looks expectant, like she’s waiting for Azzi to do something, to give her something. She exhales a little and then holds her vape out. Paige’s fingers take it from her silently. She watches as the woman adjusts her grip, pulls it closer to her mouth.

Her lips rest against the mouth of it. Azzi watches as she inhales, turning away from Azzi, the slope of her nose shining in the moonlight. Her chest expands under her t-shirt. “This is my last one. And I promised myself I wouldn’t buy another one when I finish it. I’ve been doing stuff the last few months to quit. ‘m not, like, addicted anymore.” The words are said quietly. Smoke spills from Paige’s lips. Her frame shudders with a single cough.

Paige turns to look at her again. She’s soft with it, gaze not prying but still attentive. Azzi starts scratching at the skin of one of her shins. “For real? Like, you’re serious this time?” The lingering curls of smoke hang in front of her face, making her features hazy and gray through it.

Azzi swallows. Nods once. Looks down at her legs, curled up against the fabric of her t-shirt. She might as well be fully exposed, because the piece of clothing she’s wearing does not cover between her legs at all. “Yeah. It makes me feel gross. And Kitty doesn’t deserve it.” She looks up again. The smoke has cleared. Paige is still looking at her. It’s almost cautious, but Azzi knows where to look in her expression to find hints of other feelings. A shining pearl of relief in her eyes. A twitch of disbelief in her brows and the shape of her mouth.

Azzi looks forward again. She can feel Paige still facing her, eyes against her side profile. She looks out into the trees that mark the line of her property. They’re evergreens, tall and shaped and filled in with bushes and acacia trees. Lively. Quiet in the night. “And…like, you’re not doing anything else, right?”

She shakes her head. “No. I mean, unless you count drinking, but I drink less than a lot of other people, I think.” She shrugs a little as she says it. It’s the truth. It comes out and sits between them quietly like all of the other words they had exchanged. Her shin starts burning. She stops dragging her nails across her skin there and instead just settles her palm against it, trying to press comfort into herself in the silence as she stares out into the yard.

They’re quiet for a while. Azzi hears the quiet buzz of her own vape again. Another quiet cough. Sees, out of the corner of her eye, a gentle cloud of smoke dissipating into the night. Paige clears her throat. “I don’t like it when you do that to yourself. Ruin yourself ’n stuff.” It’s said so softly Azzi almost thinks she doesn’t hear her right. Her stomach hurts. She twists her lips a little, refusing to look at Paige, insides twisting.

She’s silent for another few moments. “It’s hard to care sometimes,” she eventually says. It’s nearly a whisper. The words come out of her mouth just as soft as the smoke they’ve both been exhaling out on this balcony.

Her eyes sting a little and she can’t tell if it’s something to do with her vape or if she’s about to start crying. Either way, she ignores it, biting the inside of her cheek. Her chest hurts. “I care,” Paige says, voice quiet and matching Azzi’s. And this hurts. This hurts so badly to hear, because Azzi has just realized she’s still in love with her, and she hasn’t had time to build up walls to be able to hear things like this and still think they’re casual and their hookups mean nothing but the release. Azzi turns to look at Paige. Paige isn’t looking at her. She’s also looking out into the backyard. Her eyes shine. Her face is still. Not necessarily expressionless, but close enough to it that Azzi knows she’s being serious. “Still?” It’s the first thing that comes to mind to ask. Paige just stares out into the yard. She nods once. The outline of her side profile dips and raises and it shines differently in the moonlight when she moves. “I’m sorry.”

Paige turns to look at her. “That I care?” Her brows twitch like she’s fighting the urge to let them knit together. Azzi is finding it hard to breathe. She looks at her through the dark of the night and is just silent for a few moments. Everything in her is aching, swirling, a bruise she thought she’d let fully heal pressed on again and sending hurt spasming through her.

“Yeah. About me.” Paige just nods once and looks down. Her brows twitch again, and this time, Paige lets them move a little. Her expression turns slightly somber. Azzi watches the change like she’s cataloging it, like she’s learning Paige for the first time and not staring at someone she was in love with for nearly nine years. “I care about you, too,” she breathes.

Paige looks up again. Miserably, she’s beautiful like this. Even when they’re not sober and quiet on the balcony and the sharp edges of their past are digging into the softness of their skin around their borrowed night, she’s so beautiful. Azzi doesn’t remember how she had convinced herself she doesn’t love her. She’s only been broken free from that illusion for not even an entire evening and she’s still already forgotten.

Azzi feels her lips part a little, rather dumbly. Feels Paige leaning closer to her, their bodies like magnets, their actions slow but easily matched by the other. It’s so slow. It’s careful and different from all they’ve done the last few weeks. Azzi watches as Paige gets closer to her, feels herself move closer to Paige, feels the way her belly burns and her chest aches. Her eyes flutter shut.

The kiss is soft. Their lips meet and there’s no tongue, only the gentle press of mouth on mouth and warm breath. Azzi moves her legs and stretches them out onto the couch and Paige leans to settle between them, hand placing itself by Azzi’s hip on the cushion to hold herself up as she presses farther into Azzi. One of Azzi’s hands comes up to cup the back of her head. It’s soft against her mess of blonde hair. She doesn’t pull.

It doesn’t ever get hungrier. Just deeper, tongues sliding slowly, Azzi’s breath only picking up a little in her chest. It warms her in a way that still aches. It’s familiar and kind and feels so good, Paige’s lips solid against her own. She really does love her. She loves the way her lips feel against hers and the way her entire body is leaning farther into Azzi and the way they’re so quiet as the balcony holds them.

Paige slides her mouth away from Azzi’s. She moves it to her neck, starts settling soft kisses against the skin there. Azzi makes a soft noise, a hum of pleasure, her eyes feeling lidded. Her hand stays against the back of Paige’s head as she does so. Her lips and tongue are gentle. There’s no bite Azzi has to fight against as she mouths down her throat.

When she makes it to her collarbone, she stays there for a moment, littering kisses against the bone. And then she moves farther, leaving all of the skin hidden by the t-shirt hanging off of her frame, scooting back on the couch to lay between her legs. Azzi knows where this is going. Another knot starts to lace itself up Azzi’s abdomen. It’s a softer one, a quieter one, the cushion covers rustling as Paige moves silently.

One of Azzi’s legs is dangling off of the couch. The other one, the one by the back of it, is bent up against it. It’s this one that’s propped up that Paige starts kissing down. She’s still so tender and quiet and Azzi’s hand is still gentle against the back of her head. She starts at the middle of her thigh and moves down slowly. Azzi’s body starts to hum with anticipation, but again, it’s not nearly as wound up and needy as it’s been the last few weeks. It echoes a little in her ribcage.

Paige makes it to the skin just beside her folds, the soft brown next to the sweet pink. She presses one last kiss there and then moves to her cunt, glancing up at Azzi through her lashes. Azzi has to swallow a soft moan at the sight of her. She’s so soft, so pretty, the girl she’s always loved. She looks down again and kisses her clit. It’s puffy and Azzi nearly jolts at the contact, humming lowly in the back of her throat.

Her tongue peeks out from her lips and begins tracing itself up and down her bundle of nerves, the muscle immediately at an even pace that is quick enough to not be teasing but slow enough to let Azzi melt farther into the cushions with pleasure. She threads her fingers through Paige’s hair. It’s gentle, nails scratching lightly at her scalp as if to praise her without words.

Soft moans start to fall out of Azzi’s mouth almost immediately. Paige’s tongue moves smoothly against her, dragging through her folds and teasing at her entrance and circling her clit. She kisses her every once in a while, lips pursing around her tongue to leave a loose mark against her. Azzi just watches her. Her breathing gets heavier.

She says nothing. What is she supposed to say? Paige works in silence and so Azzi lets the only sound between them be the wet lap of Paige’s tongue against her pussy and her gentle humming and quiet moaning. She uses her fingers to comb Paige’s hair away from her face. Her body goes fuzzy with pleasure. Her mind, too. The ache in her chest remains. She tries to ignore it in favor of the bliss Paige imprints upon her.

Her core tightens only further and further, the heat within her growing. Paige stokes it. Azzi lets her. She combs through her hair with her nails and lets breathy sounds fall from her lips and rolls her hips a little under the attention from Paige’s mouth. It’s all soft. All intimate and good-feeling.

The night swallows them. The balcony is open around them, the yard quiet. Paige and Azzi fill it. She knows she’s going to tip over the edge soon. She knows release is close. Her head falls back, lips parted, sounds still spilling from her. Her eyes shut. She’s been worked to the end quickly. Paige has given so much to her. She feels so good. Something within her still aches.

It’s almost bittersweet. Azzi is still reeling a little from the realization that she’s still very much in love with Paige as her breathing becomes more erratic and her abdomen starts contracting as she comes closer to her orgasm. She tilts her head back down to look at Paige again through lidded eyes. She’s moaning and watching as Paige looks up at her, the glint of her belly button piercing shining in her pupils.

Azzi cums without warning. It spills from her, wetting Paige’s mouth, a soft cry ripping itself from her. Her head falls back again. Her back arches off of the couch as raw pleasure grips her, her cunt already sore from her previous orgasms and definitely starting to become too stimulated now that she’s had her third. This one is soft enough to slip through her painlessly, though, and so she rides through it, gasping and whining as Paige continues to lick her.

The high lasts for a while. Her hand stays in Paige’s hair, almost a soothing technique for herself. She never pulls. It never hurts. They’re both soft and quiet and shining in the moonlight like pearls gathered in the mouth of a clam. Her shuddering starts to turn a little more violent after a while, the pleasured sounds that had been pulling out of her mouth turning a little more strained. Paige knows when to stop. Azzi appreciates it.

Paige’s mouth moves away from her cunt. She laps a little at the skin around it, cleaning her with her tongue, and Azzi watches her with lazy eyes and jittering legs. And then when she seems satisfied with herself, she stops and scoots just barely forward and then settles her head against Azzi’s stomach. It’s soft. Azzi feels herself almost crack a little at it, mourning something she had for so long and then gave up.

Paige is quiet where she is. Azzi lets her lay there. She raises her hand again and starts softly petting her hair, blonde locks smoothed away from her face. Paige sighs against her and her breath skitters along Azzi’s skin. It threatens to draw goosebumps over her, but the warmth of Paige’s head on her stomach and her body between her legs fights them off. She’s sleepy. She’s so, so sleepy.

Her eyes flutter shut. The movements of her hand don’t stop. She feels herself slipping closer and closer to just falling asleep out here, Paige against her, her hair smoothing out under her gentle touch. She doesn’t know how long they stay out there to rot under the moon like beautiful fruit left to become sticky and swollen. She doesn’t care. She wants to stay.

Azzi has very much just complicated things for herself. She is deeply and wholly in love with Paige, thinks she probably always has been, and knows there is no easy way to dig herself out of this hole. Her eyes stay shut and she feels the way the California night presses itself down onto Paige and Azzi as they lay outside. Her mind tries to wander away from the idea of sleep and torment her with all she has to worry about now that she knows she’s in love with her, but she’s too tired to let it get there.

She doesn’t know how long they let themselves be out there for. Probably for too long, if she’s being honest with herself. But Paige starts stirring against her eventually and Azzi can feel the dragging finality of the actions before they’re even completed. The fun is over. Azzi is going to fall into her bed and Paige is going to Uber home and they will meet again in less than two days to trade their daughter on Paige’s front porch without trading a single word.

Paige gets up off of her. Azzi misses the warmth. She doesn’t get up, instead allowing herself the privilege of slowly blinking her eyes open and trying to rub just enough sleep away from herself to be able to walk back inside and crash the moment she finds her bed again. But she’s not even prepared herself to straighten up when she feels Paige step between her legs again, nudging the leg that hangs off the side of the couch to open her up more.

Azzi blinks and looks up at her. She refuses to crane her head up; she’s too tired. She can see Paige’s face from where she is and can make out the shining blueness of her eyes, the mess of blonde behind her head, the way her face is lined with something that makes her look young and hardened at the same time. So she watches with her head thrown back against the arm of the couch as Paige steps up close to her, stoops down, and gently picks her up off of the couch.

There’s no time to think about it. Azzi just lets herself be picked up. Something in her chest flares again like Paige’s touch has inflamed a wound deep within her. She wraps her arms around Paige’s neck, crosses her ankles at her back. Paige’s hands hold her up solidly from underneath. Azzi tucks her face into the crook of Paige’s neck. She still smells faintly like cologne despite the lateness of the night and the sweat of their sex. It burns.

Paige starts carrying her off of the balcony. Azzi feels so tired and so warm in her arms. They’re quiet. And stupidly, Azzi lets her mind wander, and she thinks of their wedding. Of that day nearly six years ago now, when she was nineteen and shining and had a silk dress wrapped over her glowing skin and Paige was twenty and beaming and wiping her eyes with the cuff of her suit as Azzi walked down the aisle. Of that night, when the ceremony was over and the after party was shut down and they were both so drunk despite being underage and Paige had carried her from the Uber to the hotel room because she was so tired she couldn’t stand up straight.

They had loved each other through everything. They had loved and lost and gained and lost again and they still had loved each other, and that ceremony six years ago had proved it. Those five years they spent honoring that ceremony had proved it. The year they’ve spent apart has turned Azzi inside out, has turned her into something she couldn’t recognize as biting until Paige was pulling her back together and whispering in her ear even without the promise of love.

Her chest burns. She curls her fingers around the back of Paige’s t-shirt collar as if to make sure she’s not going anywhere. The sliding door makes a soft noise as Paige pulls the glass back to step inside. “You do this with all your girls?” It’s supposed to be a joke. It’s supposed to make her feel better. She doesn’t even know what she’s referencing, really; the carrying, the sex in the backyard, the long conversation about still caring about each other. It’s just supposed to soften the tension Azzi is carrying inside of herself.

Paige just stays silent. The door bumps shut behind them. Azzi feels her walking farther into the room, turning to get to the bed, her body sure and warm against Azzi’s. “No,” she eventually says quietly and simply, and it makes Azzi sick. She wishes she could die right now. If it weren’t for Kitty, she thinks she really would consider it, the sweet release of never having to hurt over the woman whose arms she’s in ever again.

Azzi says nothing back. Paige walks to the bed. Azzi’s limbs stay wrapped around her. She feels it when Paige finds the edge of the mattress, when her entire body starts dipping to lower Azzi onto it. It’s awkward. Azzi is a little diagonal. She doesn’t care. Her back hits the bed and her head finds the edge of a pillow and she still holds onto Paige.

Paige doesn’t really move away. Azzi tries to find small comfort in this fact. She keeps her ankles crossed at her back, hugging her to her front with her arms. “I’m sorry,” she breathes, voice barely audible. Paige exhales softly into the crook of her neck. She says nothing. Azzi adds nothing else. Her bedroom is quiet around them.

Paige indulges in her, which Azzi thinks is the part that, again, aches the most. She lets Azzi just hug her as she lays on the bed, bent at the waist in a position Azzi knows can’t be comfortable. She just lets it happen. Azzi thinks she would cry if she didn’t feel so numb. If that lack of emotion is from her shock or from her inebriation, she doesn’t know.

Azzi knows she’s drifting on borrowed time. She knows this night was not supposed to be hers. It still hurts, though, when after a few minutes of letting Azzi just hold her tightly, she starts to pull away a little. “I can’t leave Stella waiting for too long,” she whispers into Azzi’s neck. Azzi just sighs shakily in response. She tries to memorize the way Paige feels against her, the way her breath trails along her skin and her hair reaches into her face and her chest presses against Azzi’s own.

She releases Paige. She watches through the dark as Paige straightens up, shining in the moonlight. She looks like something out of a dream. Her skin is opal and her eyes are diamond and everything about her is cutting but somehow still soft, real flush and real sweat and real emotion carved into her like something spilled across the masterpiece of herself. She moves around the room to collect her clothes. Azzi shuts her eyes because it hurts too badly to watch.

The quiet rustling of Paige gathering her belongings ends after a few minutes with the soft click of the door to her bedroom closing. And just like that, Azzi is alone. Her bed is cold around her body. It feels lifeless. She feels lifeless. She is drowning, her wife and her daughter taken from her, and she doesn’t know what to do with all the love she feels for them because she knows it’s too much for what she’s allowed.

She still doesn’t cry tonight. The sadness just feels empty, shock feeling like a wound that has been scraped and hollowed out instead of one that swells and infects itself. She curls over herself in bed and tugs the covers over herself and still shivers through them. She’ll figure it out in the morning. She always does. It will be fine. She’ll find a way to sweat out the fever again, find a way to slip back into her comfortable life of hating her ex-wife and raising her daughter awkwardly.

It’s only as she’s drifting off to sleep that, stupidly, she realizes Paige had never given her vape back.

—

“Are you fucking serious?”

It’s Caroline saying this to her. They’re at brunch. It’s so late it might as well just be lunch with mimosas. They had spent the first ten minutes after ordering said mimosas trying to convince themselves that this did not mark the start of a bender, especially because Azzi has to pick Kitty up tomorrow. The cafe they’ve chosen is quaint but nice, small with large windows and hanging plants and lights that look a little like lanterns. “You think that’s casual? What the fuck is your deal?”

Azzi squints at her over the table. The cafe isn’t exactly loud around them, but it’s pretty full, conversation and laughter spilling and humming around them. The sun dusts itself through Azzi’s lashes and into her line of sight as she narrows her eyes at her friend. “Carol, you don’t get it. Like…like, it’s just…not like that. She divorced me. We’re hooking up and it’s casual. And just ‘cause I’m, like, suddenly in love with her again doesn’t change that.”

Azzi crosses her arms. Caroline looks like she’s about to narrow her eyes at Azzi, but then she honest-to-God laughs a little, brows knitting slightly, the sound nearly a scoff. “None of the words coming out of your mouth right now make any sense. She carried you inside and let you hold her and you still think she doesn’t want you?” She’s smiling a little.

Azzi frowns at her. Her brows furrow. “Caroline, it’s not fucking funny. This isn’t a game, stop it. You can’t just pick apart what I’ve told you and find what you want to hear. She doesn’t want me.” She says the words like they’re final. Because in her mind, they are. They sting a little on the way up like bile because it hurts the same ache in her chest she’s felt since the night before to say them.

Caroline looks at her for the same expression for a moment longer, and then Azzi watches as it falls to something more serious, her lips straight and her brows slightly raised. “Azzi. Azzi Fudd.” Azzi looks away from her and raises her glass to her lips. “I’m saying this to you because I love you, and because even though I have a complicated opinion of Paige, I think loving her is better for you than hating her: she wants you.”

She nearly chokes on her mimosa as Caroline says it, the orange juice and the champagne burning her throat. She looks up again at her best friend. “Stop it,” she all but hisses, setting her drink back down on the table with more force than necessary. She sees the orange splash up the walls of the glass out of the corner of her eye.

It feels like a taunt. It feels like she’s being taunted by her best friend, that the one thing she’s been wanting is being promised to her and she knows it isn’t real. She doesn’t like that Caroline would do that to her. She doesn’t like that Caroline thinks she’s young enough anymore to believe it and get excited if someone told her that her crush likes her back.

The cafe is still calm around them. Caroline raises her brows a little more. “Dude. I…like, I really would not lie to you about this. I just…” She looks down at the table, at the empty white plate in front of her. Azzi just watches her as she looks like she physically struggles to gather her words. “This is really hard for me to say, ‘cause my opinion on Paige has gotten, like, less than favorable the last few years. But that is really not casual. And I’ve heard literally nothing about her sleeping around with the same girl more than once, let alone doing what she’s doing for you.”

Something in Azzi softens without her permission at this, at the way she says it so sincerely. Something within her hears this and wants so badly for it to be true that she literally feels herself start to unravel at the sound of it. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” she nearly whispers. Her brows loosen a little from their furrow, instead drawing together a little.

Caroline’s expression turns a little kinder. “Yes, it does, Azzi. You don’t casually sleep with your ex multiple times and tell her you still care about her and kiss her. That part wasn’t even remotely about sex.” Azzi wants to believe her so badly that she almost immediately accepts this as a truth. That she almost immediately looks at Caroline and feels something swell in her chest a little, still aching and bruised, but a little lighter.

“But what I was saying. I think…If you really do love her, I think it’s worth it for you to try to do something about it. ‘Cause I know what the last year or so of being married looked like, but all the years before that one, you…Like, I’ve never seen you as happy as you were when you were with her. Not even now.” Her voice turns a little quieter near the end. And Azzi accepts this as a truth, too, because it’s one she knows she’s lived.

“Yeah,” she says quietly. She looks down again. Picks her mimosa back up, raises it to her lips to take a calmer drink from it. It’s smooth down her throat. Her stomach feels like it’s wobbling a little, threatening to flip but never quite going through with it. She glances up at Caroline again.

Maybe she is young and stupid enough to believe and get excited when someone tells her her crush likes her back. She squints a little through the sunlight draping itself over them and their table through the large windows. Caroline sighs quietly. “I think…I think you have the best judgement on this. Obviously. But I hope it means something if even I am telling you to, like, go get your girl.” She smiles a little at the end.

Azzi can’t smile back. She hasn’t gotten to that stage of unbridled hope yet. She just blinks again at her, the lip of her glass resting against her mouth, elbow against the table. She can smell the citrus of the orange juice with every inhale. “I just…I need to figure her out. I need to figure out if she really is, like, not casual with me.” She looks away as she says it. Her stomach hurts.

“I think she is. But yeah, take your time. You guys will figure it out eventually. And whatever that looks like, I’m always here for you, Az,” Caroline says. It’s sincere again, which, again, lets hope start to rise shakily in her, stumbling to its feet like the animal of her brain had beat it to death a year ago and it’s just now been nursed to some semblance of health.

Azzi has always been what others would call an adrenaline junkie. 

This term wasn’t necessarily inaccurate, but Azzi didn’t love it. It made her sound reckless or impulsive. The term sounded like she was throwing herself into dangerous situations for a cheap thrill, but it wasn’t that at all. Really, it was the anticipation. The second before something would happen, when her pulse surged against her ribs and every nerve woke at once, pulsing under her skin. The way her lungs tightened with a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, her awareness seeming to sharpen into focus at once knowing that something could go wrong, even if nothing ever did.

Standing on the edge of control was intoxicating.

If that made the term adrenaline junkie fit, Azzi was undoubtedly an adrenaline junkie.

The edge of control was a place that Azzi limited herself to. She wasn’t interested in getting hurt. She wanted to believe she was safe while toeing that line with the possibilities that lingered in her mind. The possibilities were a mere stutter in her thought process, and yet it was all so addicting. She never bothered to explain this feeling; most people wouldn’t understand.

Then she met Paige Bueckers.

Inviting Paige into her life was like willingly letting a permanent adrenaline surge surround Azzi. Everything about the older woman carried the edge of safety that settled somewhere beneath Azzi’s ribs. The feeling refused to leave and yet was never loud or attention seeking, merely there. The hint of danger was never announced, but Azzi always noticed it. Somehow, this made the appeal infinitely more compelling. Paige was exciting in every sense of the word. 

Ironically, it all started with an evening of mindless scrolling on social media. She had been looking for new places to take her own bike out for some newer scenery. Somewhere between hills and mountain views across the DMV area, the algorithm had approached her with a motorcycle rider hidden behind a tinted visor. 

The thirst trap was nothing at first, at least nothing Azzi hadn’t seen before. It really was nothing, until suddenly it was a lot more than that. The woman never spoke–she hadn’t needed to. Her videos all followed a similar rhythm. The camera caught the relaxed posture of a woman who was far more attractive than necessary given the limited visibility. Gloved hands visible on the edge of each frame as the woman sat poised on the seat, wearing a similar style of ribbed tank tops in each video. The tank top style always clung to broad shoulders, leaving defined arms visible with veins tracing down the arms back into the gloved hands. The familiar hum of the bike filled the audio as the wind blew past in the background of whatever sultry song she had selected.

The videos never strayed too far from this format, yet Azzi watched them all. Every single video.  She was obsessed. It was simple but attractive in a way that it had no right to be. While Azzi knew that the mystery was a large part of the appeal, she couldn’t help but feel bad for the people who never knew the Paige that existed behind the tinted visor. The reality of her was far better than the videos could even tease at.

Paige was all sharp angles, stoicism, and an apparent coldness that lingered in blue eyes that always seemed to target Azzi’s core. It hadn’t taken long for Azzi to realize that Paige wasn’t as cold as she appeared. She was thoughtful. Every word carefully considered and mentally weighed before breaking through the jaw flex that was holding them back.

Azzi did feel bad that people would never see this side of Paige, but at the same time she couldn’t help but thank whatever higher power existed that Paige never showed herself on TikTok in this way. The comments of thirsting lesbians were already insufferable with the mention of the veiny hands and muscles that always seemed to show just right. If Paige gave away any more, she couldn’t even imagine how much worse they would be.

After meeting, the two quickly found themselves in each others’ orbits. They were always by each other’s side and most often would be seen with Paige riding the bike, Azzi loosely holding on. It was visible to anyone who saw them that they were obsessed with each other. Entirely drunk on the other in a way that was dangerous and wholly encompassing. Their relationship was never casual.

Tonight had just been another night of the two tightly wound up in each other and the orbit they had so carefully curated. 

Azzi sat on the back of the older woman’s bike. Her lace edge biker shorts sat on either side of Paige as her own black tank top exposed much of her chest, which had been pressed into Paige’s back. An old leather jacket of Paige’s rested loosely on her shoulders, barely hanging on. Paige’s attire was her usual, the slightly baggy darker joggers worn from use with her own black ribbed tank top that was tightly settled on her.

The two had always been willing to try stupid shit that could be described as very little other than dangerous, but when Paige got off the freeway and found some old country roads, Azzi couldn’t help the knowing smirk that grew. 

The familiar hum of adrenaline began buzzing under her skin.

Her hands had begun by resting loosely on Paige’s waist. It hadn’t taken very long for her to let her fingers dip just a bit lower, settling on the inch of space that was all skin between the tank top and pants. Paige slowed the pace of the bike just slightly as the roads cleared out, giving way to fields and gravel paths. Her slowed pace allows her to reach one hand back to settle on the exposed skin of Azzi’s thigh. The roughness of the worn leather glove immediately warms the exposed skin that had been at the mercy of the cool night time air. 

Azzi sighs low and quiet, hoping the wind is enough to drown out the sound so that the bluetooth microphone hadn’t picked up the sound carrying into Paige’s headset in the helmet.

At the small movement on her thigh, Azzi reads the gesture for what it is and begins tracing her fingers under the tank top. Her hands were cold against Paige’s stomach, which was pulling taught at the difference in temperature. Azzi almost swears she can hear the blonde’s breath hitch. The wind had never sounded as pretty as Paige had.

The younger woman runs her hands along the overly heated skin, brushing up along the toned muscle until she reaches the band of the sports bra that the older woman had always worn. Paige’s hand squeezes lightly at Azzi’s thigh, a silent move of consent in a language that only the two could understand. 

Azzi grins underneath the helmet before putting her fingers underneath the band and pulling it slightly until Paige’s boobs were free under the tank top. With a free hand, Azzi slowly traces one nail around her nipple, hardening at the sensation. Another breathy sound comes through the headset, and she sounds too good for Azzi to ignore.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty baby, you know that?” Azzi leans forward, settling her helmet on the side of Paige’s shoulder, knowing Paige would feel the closeness.

Her hand stops the movement and only a little whine can be heard before Azzi is grabbing at the swell of her breasts harshly.

“These tits ‘re mine, huh? All for me? No one else gets to see you like this,” Azzi’s grip is harsh and unforgiving. 

She flexes her hand and returns to her previous task, never letting Paige settle for too long. Her eyes watch as Paige grips tightly at the handle bar, her hand flexing against it. 

Azzi smirks at the action, but quickly tuts loud enough for the audio to carry into Paige’s headset. She pulls her hand back, letting the whine burn its way up the blonde's throat until it forces its way through.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you know how to use your words,” she punctuates the statement with her fingers on Paige’s already sore nipples, using her free hand to drag her nails down the definition of her stomach.

“No one else, just you, Az.” Paige’s head tilts back and she is entirely too aware of the open streets, thankful that no one is around to see how pathetic she is. Thankful that only Azzi and the moon were to witness her falling apart having her tits played with.

Azzi’s hand loosens lightly on the nipple but drags on the skin around it, letting it pebble over as air gets through the openings in her shirt. All the while her wandering hand pushes downwards, reaching the band of the joggers that settled low on her hips. 

One hand settled on her waist with nails digging into the jutted hipbones. Azzi loved to feel every part of Paige, but there was something about the hip bones that made her so weak.

“You’re so pretty,” Azzi’s voice is gravelly and entirely too wrecked into the headset, the sharp intake of Paige’s breath  enough of a sign for her to move her hand downward into the pants of the older woman. 

She settles on the outside of the boxers she had helped Paige pick out earlier in the day. Her finger settles where her clit should be, a noticeable wet patch amplifying the ache in Azzi’s own core.

“Azzi, baby, can we please pull over? Need you,” she whines out, leaning further back into Azzi, who was glad they were on a desolate country road. 

Paige hardly had her eyes on the road and was quickly molding into Azzi’s front. The muscles lining her back press into Azzi’s chest and once again she is dipping a finger down to trail along Paige’s slit, the pool of warmth seeping through her underwear and onto Azzi’s hand. Fuck, she was so wet.

Azzi loved feeling the girl trembling under her touch, slightly wound too tight but far too committed to Azzi’s safety to allow anything to get to her too badly. Paige’s hand vibrating from its place on her thigh. Skin warm under the touch and every bump seemed to encourage her core to tighten just a bit more, Azzi felt it all. The feeling of Paige underneath her, so pliable and wholly in her control was intoxicating.

“No, baby, not yet,” Azzi’s voice was thick with the power and smirk etched onto her mouth. Her tone slow and slightly cold at the brattiness Paige had begun to let out.

Azzi’s hand pressed firmly into Paige’s core and her fingers pushed into the fabric, making slow circles where her clit was. It was as if a wire was buzzing underneath Azzi’s skin with the power she felt. Her blood rushed through her and everything felt so thick and hot. Her previously cool skin was far too warm as she pressed into Paige’s back. The gravel road offered enough vibration that she felt every point of contact. 

Her eyes were glazed over, but she couldn’t help noticing how Paige was still in control of the motorcycle despite what Azzi was doing to her. A part of what worked for Azzi was this bike. The idea that people would see Paige on this very bike. The same bike that Paige rode in every video would hold memories of her at Azzi’s mercy. Her own moan broke through at the thought accompanied by the pulsing heat under Paige’s boxers which were becoming too tight and too sticky with need.

Once again raising her hand lightly, she let her fingers dip into the boxers before making direct contact with where Paige wanted her most. The contact was sudden and sharp and Azzi barely had time to process a hand gripping at her thigh as Paige wavered slightly on the bike before returning to her previous rhythm.

“Such a pretty pussy, huh? Get so wet for me,” Azzi pauses with a heady sigh into the microphone as her fingers slide through Paige’s folds, collecting slick before returning to the maddening circles on her clit. “Can hardly even contain yourself either. You just about took us out, feels too good.”

Azzi’s voice was slow and sultry, her words each matched with hands grabbing at her tits or pressing into her core. This was always their game. Azzi needed to have Paige on the verge of crying before she would be satisfied. The biggest adrenaline rush came from the loss of control and edge of danger.

“Azzi, baby, you’re killing me,” Paige’s hips instinctively roll forward again as the bike wobbles lightly, Azzi trailing down towards Paige’s entrance before running her fingers back up to the clit. It was not enough for Paige and she knew as much.

Azzi leans forward as her fingers pick up the pace, rolling the nipple in between her fingers, tightly pressing into the skin as more slick pours out of Paige. The drag of her fingers was far smoother than it had been moments ago.

Leaning into Paige’s shoulder more with their helmets pressed into the sides of each other, Azzi pulls her hands, in turn pulling Paige further into her space. She lets one finger trail down to Paige’s entrance before slipping in, only letting Paige sigh quickly before slowing all her movement. Hands still both in and on Paige.

“‘S it not enough? You’re starting to sound greedy, baby,” Azzi presses her teeth to the inside of her lips, sighing as if she wasn’t causing Paige to reach ruin. As if her hand wasn’t stilled inside the girl who was single-handedly responsible for keeping them alive.

“No, please,” Paige’s voice came out even whinier, her hand that was settled on the handle bar shifted slightly causing them to jolt forward in a sudden increase of speed. Azzi didn’t worry, in fact she did nothing but moan into Paige’s back, rolling her own hips into the girl’s back. Paige’s hand that still sat on Azzi’s thigh grabbed at the skin again, trying to run her hand back as far as she could to encourage Azzi, but instead reached her own motion limitations.

“You’re gonna hurt us,” Azzi’s voice was wrecked as she pulled out her finger before shoving the single finger in with fervor as a punctuating act. Paige clenches around the finger that begins to immediately retreat, attempting to hold her still inside.

Her body trembles with need and her voice comes out wet, words laced with tears that were aching to escape. “Not gonna hurt you. Would never. Just need more.”

Azzi’s smile came back at the promise, which she knew all too well to be true. She pulls out, preening at the bratty whine that escapes Paige before pulling her hand back to slap lightly at Paige’s puffy core. She was so wet and warm, and suddenly Azzi needed to have a taste.

She looked forward again, bringing her eyes back into focus as the road that was entirely deserted and barely lit by the moon and few stars that poked through the nightly clouds.

“There’s a pull off spot ahead, go ahead and pull over baby.” The sultry tone left no room for argument and Paige couldn’t help but abide as she reached the slightly rocky path that extended from the road.

The stop was shaking and she was barely parked before Azzi was sliding off the side after quickly removing her hands from Paige. She stepped back and took a look at the girl who was lightly illuminated by the headlight of the bike. The rise and fall of her chest was unsteady and labored.

Azzi only gave herself a moment to calm herself before unbuckling the helmet and lifting it over her head. She sees Paige’s eyes tracking her as she shakes out her hair before bringing the fingers that had just been inside Paige towards her mouth. She closes her eyes lightly as the taste of Paige fills her and spreads to every buzzing wire under her skin. She can’t help the moan that rips through the hushed night around them.

Paige reaches out to grab the helmets, placing them haphazardly on the handles that now sit unoccupied. Her gloves shoved into her own helmet. With a hesitant step, she reaches forward, settling her hands on Azzi’s hips before losing all patience and pulling the younger girl forward to press their chests into each other just as their mouths crash together.

The two were both drunk on their arousal and could hardly count the joining of their mouths as a true kiss rather than something else entirely primal. Azzi’s hands quickly reach out for Paige’s head, pulling her in closely as her hands tangle in the tightly pulled pony tail, attempting to join them together with no space left to offer.

Their mouths tangle and tongues search to reach every corner of each other’s mouths as the two gasp into each other, hardly able to breathe. They don’t pull apart until Paige gasps back, the sudden need for air leaving her chest heaving as she looks at Azzi who is now flushed with spit slick lips. Her pupils were blown out in a way that was visible despite the darkness. The sight only lasts a moment before her eyes are fluttering closed again, leaning her forehead to meet Paige’s.

“Want to taste you, pretty.” Azzi’s breathing was still uneven, Paige’s head still cradled in between her hands. “Fuck, I need to taste you.”

Paige’s eyes were firmly locked on the panting girl in front of her as she nodded into Azzi’s touch, not even bothering with the fact that Azzi couldn’t see her.

Instead, she slowly reaches her hands out to slide into the shoulders of Azzi’s jacket. Azzi gets the message and pulls back as she shrugs the jacket off. The fabric wasn’t large enough for both of them, but Paige would be damned if Azzi was kneeling or laying on the ground in any capacity.

She leans back onto her bike, a little weight to ensure that the kickstand was fully out as she leans back onto the bike. Her hands quickly settle the jacket onto the ground and Azzi smirks as the blonde reaches to pull down the loose pants around her hips.

Azzi steps forward, settling her hands on the hips of the blonde, stilling her actions. Their eyes meet and Azzi’s grin grows as Paige’s lips part, the huff of air reaching the brunette’s mouth before the blonde could even acknowledge her or the confusion etched into her features fully. 

Azzi sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as she attempts to school her grin. The sight causes Paige to shiver. It was times like these that remind her of how good she really had it with Azzi standing in front of her. Fuck, she was lucky.

Azzi reaches down between them, her hand reaching into Paige’s pants and boxers, never once breaking eye contact. She lets her fingers slide through the slick and watches carefully for any reaction Paige has. Paige’s cheeks are full of color and her eyes wet with unshed tears.

Azzi pulls back and lets her clean hand grab roughly at Paige’s jaw, holding her still. Her eyes dip to the lips that now struggle to close. She leans in, mouths only a breath apart.

“Such a greedy girl,” Azzi whispers, before her fingers, still slick with Paige, come to settle on her jaw. The slick startles Paige, causing her to flush as she realizes what is pressed into her skin, the evidence of her arousal thick and heady. 

Nose to nose, Azzi pulls the slick hand back slightly before smacking at the skin still covered in Paige. Paige’s eyes pinch shut and her groan comes from so deep in her chest, Azzi swears she could feel it on her own. The sound was more a sob than anything else.

She smiles at the reaction before pulling back to see the flushed girl with tears woven into her eyelashes now covering her eyes. The grin only grows as a single tear works down Paige’s cheek. She drops to her knees, pulling the pants with her. Paige immediately hisses at the cool air that feels so much sharper against her over-heating body and slick core.

“Fuck, Az,” Paige moans out. “You’re so pretty, want you so bad.” Paige’s voice comes out weak and soft, her hand reaching down to brush a curl out of Azzi’s face, gathering her hair in her hands as Azzi looks up from her spot kneeling in front of Paige.

Her smile is confident and sly, showing Paige that she was right where she wanted her. Her hands wrap around the thighs as she nudges Paige’s leg, showing that she needs more space. Paige quickly takes the hint and steps out a bit further–at least as much as she could with her pants pooled around her ankles.

“Yeah? Tell me how you want me, pretty girl.” Azzi leans her head to the side, resting on Paige’s leg but still looking up at her. Her lips brush the edge of her thigh and reach up towards where Paige needs her most.

Paige blinks down, attempting to hide the frustrated tears, not fully understanding that it just further spurs Azzi on. Azzi wants Paige a mess, completely unable to think of anything but her. She is right where she wants to be.

“Want your mouth.” Her voice comes out whiny and Azzi can’t help the pitiful laugh that slips out. Paige clenches her jaw, attempting to hold the sounds in, and comes across as stronger than she is.

Azzi grins at her and presses a kiss along her thigh. Her mouth trails downwards, licking and biting at the skin as she gets closer to Paige’s knee. She wasn’t going to give Paige what she wanted. Not until she was begging for it.

“Az, come on.” Her tone was more petulant than anything else, while her fingers tightened in Azzi’s hair, attempting to nudge her upwards. Azzi’s grin grew as she pulled back slightly.

“Uh-uh, I’m giving you my mouth, you will get what you ask for, but don’t be a brat or you won’t get what you want.” She leans in and bites at the flesh on the inside of Paige’s thigh.

The milky skin is seemingly endless, and she can’t help but suck at it. She wanted to leave a mark. Paige was hers and Azzi was nothing if not territorial.

“Please, princess.” This time Paige’s whiny voice came out quieter, almost softer. “Want your mouth on my pussy. Need it so bad, need you.”

Azzi grins into the skin and is tilting her head up until her mouth is just near her clit. She waits until Paige notices the pause in her motions. When Paige makes eye contact, Azzi just smiles up, blowing cool air directly onto her clit before moving in, dragging her tongue through the folds.

She groans out at the taste she has become so accustomed to. Paige never failed to be so warm and wet with a taste that was enough to make Azzi hungrier for someone in a way she had never experienced. Her eyes close as she feels the growing ache between her own legs. Azzi swipes her tongue through before settling at her clit, wrapping her lips around the swollen bud.

“You taste so good, beautiful. Never had a pussy this good,” Azzi sighs as she pulls back, using her hand to push at Paige’s stomach so she is angled slightly better, exposing herself more to Azzi.

“Az,” she protests weakly, attempting to hide from the crude words, yet too overwhelmed to say much else.

Azzi reattaches her mouth back to Paige’s clit, sucking hungrily as the blonde rocks her hips into Azzi’s face, holding the girl in place. Azzi removes one hand from Paige’s thigh and reaches between the girl’s legs, swiping through and getting her fingers wet. Without warning she pushes two fingers into Paige while she flicks her tongue repeatedly. 

She pulls back, looking at Paige, who is holding herself up with one arm on the bike as her eyes are pinched shut. Her one hand is still tangled in Azzi’s hair and she can’t help but whimper, her eyes shooting open as she feelsthe younger girl pull back.

“‘M serious, would fuck you all day if I could, never want to leave this pussy.” Azzi’s eyes trail down to the glistening mess that Paige had created.

She picks up the pace of her fingers, curving them to apply just the right amount of pressure that makes the older woman squirm.

“Never want you to” The whine takes Azzi by surprise and she can’t help but groan into her clit.

Her tongue alternates between flicking over the sensitive skin and sucking at it. Paige’s words do nothing but further spur her on, causing the actions to pick up.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me. So perfect,” the blonde’s voice comes out cracked and Azzi can hear the wetness of her voice from biting back the tears. “So close, Az.”

Paige’s hand tightens in her hair and Azzi swears she feels Paige everywhere, from the sharp pain in her scalp to the wet warmth dripping down her arm. Her walls are clenching Azzi in and she swears she could live here if Paige would let her. The scrape of her nails in her scalp just serve to further push Azzi into Paige.

“Fuck-” her words are broken up with a gasp, and Azzi swears she has never been so wet in her life. “Gonna come- fuck, gonna come.” Her words are quick and squished between rushed breaths as if Paige can’t get enough air between each word. Her hips are rocking wildly against Azzi’s face. Azzi’s wrist was beginning to cramp from the frantic movements, but she can feel how close Paige is.

With one more sharp thrust, Paige reaches forward, gripping hard with both hands at Azzi’s face as her hips sputter with her orgasm.

“Fuck, Az, I’m coming, fuck.” Azzi’s mouth doesn’t let up as her fingers continue with shallow thrusts, pushing Paige through her orgasm that comes in crashing waves.

Azzi doesn’t separate until the blonde is twitching underneath her mouth. The blonde uses her last bit of her energy to lightly shove at her forehead, her chest heaving as she attempts to gather air into her lungs. Azzi doesn’t completely detach, but instead kisses lazily down Paige’s thigh.

“So good for me.” Azzi’s words are gentle, looking upwards as she slowly pulls her fingers out from Paige. Paige grimaces at the sensation with her eyes still shut, reaching out for her arm, slowing down Azzi’s movements.

Azzi watches her while she rubs her free hand soothingly along the smooth skin of Paige's calf. Paige always struggled with immediately being sensation free after an orgasm–something Azzi learned the hard way.

“My perfect, perfect girl,” Azzi coos quietly as Paige’s chest begins slowing into a regular pace.

When the blonde finally opens her eyes, she immediately meets Azzi’s and is reaching out her arms for the younger woman with a pout on her face. Azzi just laughs from her place between the girl’s legs. She stands up slowly, stretching her legs from their stiff positioning. She hastily wipes her fingers on her shorts, trying to get rid of the evidence of Paige still present on her hand. The blonde was far too sensitive for that right now.

Paige, still slightly out of breath from her orgasm, wraps herself around Azzi. Azzi tucks the younger girl into her arms, using her hands to rub small patterns into her back. The gentle patterns cause Paige to sag into her arms.

“Want to get you right.” Paige’s voice is sleepy into Azzi’s shoulder, the breath reaching her jaw as Azzi sighs before turning it into a chuckle.

“Well I want us to get home alive.” Azzi pulls back, pressing a kiss on the cheek of her sleepy girlfriend.

Paige pouts. “What about when we get home?” she counters, opening one eye, peeking at Azzi before raising an eyebrow. 

The younger girl just laughs, brushing a hair out of her face that had escaped from her ponytail.

“If you can get us home, we’ll talk.” Azzi laughs as Paige leans her head down to rest her head on Azzi’s chest.

Her huffs of breath serve to cool Azzi off despite the chilled air around them. Her hands remain in motion until Paige can finally lift her head enough to meet her eyes.

“With the strap?” The blonde grins at her own question and Azzi just shoves her shoulder, laughing while rolling her eyes.