for @morgwenmicrofic | prompt : « flowers » | 631 words
this is a follow-on from my previous fill for dress (here!)
Gwen stood on the doorstep, buzzing with nerves. The whole train ride to London had felt surreal, and it was only now that she was standing on Morgana’s porch that the reality of the situation sunk in. Gwen had been planning out what to say for the past three hours, but now that she was finally here, her mouth ran dry. She raised a shaking finger, and pressed the doorbell. It let out a sharp, clear, brrring. She looked down at the bouquet of flowers she clutched in her left hand – purple roses and delicate gypsophila, wrapped in pink, translucent cellophane. They reminded her of the dress Morgana had sent her.
Gwen wasn’t sure why she’d bought the flowers. Well, no, that wasn’t true – she’d bought them because they’d make her think of Morgana, but that wasn’t the point. It was Morgana that owed Gwen an apology, not the other way round. Nevertheless, it was Morgana who had sent Gwen that beautiful, silken dress, and it felt rude to turn up – unannounced, no less! – without a gift in return.
Gwen looked up from the flowers as the door opened. And– oh, how she had missed seeing the beautiful woman who stood before her.
“Gwen!” Morgana froze, stunned. She had been hoping for a letter from Gwen ever since she’d sent her the wedding invite, but only in her wildest dreams had she ever thought that Gwen would simply turn up at her doorstep.
“Morgana,” Gwen said by way of greeting, her lips curving into that soft smile of hers that Morgana knew and loved so well. They stood there for a few moments more, barely daring to make eye contact, when Morgana broke the silence.
And so Gwen went in, silently following Morgana up the stairs. Morgana’s new apartment was certainly luxurious. It was exactly the sort of place that suited her, Gwen thought. High ceilings and bright, modern lighting, but not completely removed from history – antique vases dotted the cabinets, and Gwen spotted a print of Füssli’s The Nightmare hanging on the wall of one of the rooms they passed. Morgana led them to the living room, which boasted a stunning view of the London skyline. Two sofas lay facing the enormous window – Morgana took the one to the right, and Gwen perched hesitantly on the other.
“I’m sorry to have just turned up out of the blue–” Gwen began, but Morgana cut her off.
“No, don’t apologise, Gwen.” Morgana sighed, head turning to face the window. “I should’ve sent you a letter sooner, or– God, I’m sorry.” She sighed again, and turned back to Gwen. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered softly, her voice cracking. “I’ve no right to miss you, but I’ve missed you terribly.”
Gwen could see the tears in her eyes, and something within her broke. She placed the bouquet of flowers down on the side table, and walked over to join Morgana on the sofa.
“I’m sorry too,” Gwen whispered back, taking Morgana’s warm hand in her own. “I shouldn’t have left, I should’ve let you explain–”
“Ssh, now.” Morgana placed a finger to Gwen’s lips, and Gwen melted. Maybe it was wrong to still want the very woman who had in many ways ruined her life, but Gwen was past caring. She had spent too long denying herself pleasure. Now that she was finally face to face with Morgana again, all common sense seemed to have left her. Her inhibitions melted away, and she was left consumed by one simple, burning desire. She pushed Morgana’s finger from her lips, and leaned forward to press her lips to Morgana’s own.
The flowers lay on the side table, momentarily forgotten, as Gwen gave Morgana a gift far better than even the most exquisite bouquet.
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