Marya had practiced this so many times.

A dance. A ritual. A simple way of gaining her attention. Her goddess.

She lit the fire, and her body moved. Quickly gaining confidence in her gestures as something took over her— as if she knew what to do without thinking about it. Her ink-colored eyes closed, as she felt strength fill her up the more she danced.

And danced.

Until a soft voice called her name, causing her to turn—

"Marya."

And there she stood. Tata. Mara. Tata. Mara. The desired one, the goddess— her friend— her lover, and Death herself above it all.

Slow steps followed. As if Tata had joined her dance— which she soon became a complete part of. The two mirroring each other's movements, the flames burning around them, as red as Tata's long curls. The heat around them didn't seem to come from the fire— arguably, they didn't even need it ; they'd be just fine without it.

The heat seemed to come from their bodies. It was a certain, special kind of warmth, a warmth that shielded them... Protected them from it all. From the Haze. From the village. From judgement, fear, or uncertainty. From anything that could or would ever threaten their love.

Sooner than later, their dance morphed into a gentle embrace next to the fire, lips soon meeting in silence. No words were needed. No questions, no unnecessary words.

It was just them in this silence, the crackles of the fire being the only sound around them. As if making sure nothing was exchanged between the two.

Besides this kiss.

A kiss filled with passion— unspoken feelings, feeling too strong to put into words, feelings that exceeded the verbal stage. They felt it within each other, the way their hearts burned for each other, stronger than that fire they danced around.

Once Tata let go, Marya fell to her knees. Not a word, still— but it's as if they knew what to do. Tata's bare leg slipping from below her black skirts, the shepherdess gently holding onto her skin, delivering soft kisses onto it. Each kiss as a mark of worship. For her goddess.

She could raise an altar to Tata. To her beauty, to her flaming locks of auburn hair— to her eyes, her eyes as blue as an eternal, everlasting pond.

Each and every kiss served to remind Tata of the love, the adoration, the desire— everything that Marya felt, that she could try her best to muster up into words. She heard Tata's quiet moans, as light as gusts of wind, and took this as a sign to go up— and up— and up— finally reaching that very core, her tongue softly flicking over it.

"Marya..."

She heard the ginger woman whisper, as she stood up, and helped her remove the burden of fabric on her back, her lover's beauty soon visible to her eyes.

How beautiful. How otherworldly... Marya had never wanted more to die than now— by her hand— by the hand of the goddess of death. The goddess whom she loved and adored.

There are so many things she could say— so many different ways of formulating, formatting, formenting up a sentence... And yet, none came out. As Marya undressed herself— the fire warming up their bare bodies and comforting their bare souls— she felt Tata caress her long, black hair, gently putting her cold lips on the shepherdess's delicate neck.

A kiss of death.

How contradictory it all was... Death, giving her a kiss. And yet, here they were. Fire huddling them as they embraced like witches on a dark night, engaging in a close ritual of their own, a ritual they knew the village may outcast them— but what have two outcasts got to lose, anyway ? Their feelings were stronger than the village. Than the haze, than the gods, everything.

All could burn. Even if it all burned, they had each other, still.

Their love would survive it all.

So many words, exchanged in pure silence. This quietness was enough for the pair, as they exchanged another kiss. It felt as if their souls crossed over their bodies and united above them, shielding them from the outside world.

Tata's hand slowly down Marya's stomach, reaching her slick folds, fingers gently entering her— a silent moan escaping the guiding star's mouth while the goddess pleasured her girlfriend with skillful hands. Their time spent together had perfected them in the ability to please each other. Discovering their weak spots, the things that made them tick or respond.

The ginger pushed her lips to Marya's ear, kissing her delicate lobes ; her free hand caressing the shepherdess's cheek while each kiss was a response to her earlier kisses on Tata's legs ; responding to her devotion with more devotion. The goddess and the star. Together, forever— their souls united as one being, the fire as their witness.

Tata's fingers sped up, causing Marya's soft moans to raise their volume, panting as they exchanged one more kiss— the black-haired girl finally reaching her own peak, while Tata's hand had descended to her lover's breast, caressing it while helping her achieve her climax.

A few heavy breaths. Her eyes, dark as coal, looking into her beloved's icy blue eyes, chest rising up and down with each pant. Tata's gaze felt soothing, almost, yet igniting new desires within herself, or at least, lightning a fire upon desires Marya already had.

---

Their bodies laid on the grass, nude, feeling the earth on their skin while admiring the stars— though Tata knew she had the most beautiful of guiding stars next to her— not a word exchange.

It was a comfortable silence. It always had been, between the two of them.

A confession of love didn't have to be spoken, or told. Sometimes, it could be quiet. Calm. Beautiful.

They didn't need words. All Marya and Tata needed was each other.

And that's what they would have.

Each other.

Forever.