Tracing Freedom

This is the wall scratching against her back. This is a hot exhale of air against the flat of her cheek, a forehead against her temple. This is a hand finally settling on her waist with purpose. This is the soft press of hips against hers.

This is Beatrice, finally close enough to finally kiss.

She tries to control her breathing, tries to slow herself down. There's a shiver of tension between them still, radiating off Bea in a wave. She presses her free hand to Bea's bare arm, warm from the dancing they'd done earlier, and slides it carefully up over her shoulder.

"Bea." She deserves a medal for the steel in her voice. She feels like her chest is vibrating, but Bea's name comes out strong, steady. "Hey."

Bea turns her head, her nose brushing Ava's cheek. She doesn't pull away and Ava nearly sighs in relief. Bea exhales slowly against her mouth and she fights off a shiver.

Her hand slips into Bea's hair, hanging loose around her shoulder, even as she says, "We don't- I can walk away."

The fingers at her waist press and relax. "I just..."

It takes a monumental effort, but she carefully tips Bea's head back until their eyes meet. She shouldn't have done that. Because now she knows what Bea's eyes look like this close. She can see the way that the single light bulb above them reflects in the dark. Her next inhale is sharp, her chest aching. She feels Bea move with the breath, feels where their hips meet and press and ebb away again.

"It's going to be really hard," she admits. Her voice does shake this time. "I can do it. I will. And we can- We can go back out there and-"

"Ava."

Her name has never sounded better coming out of anyone else's mouth. It's never sounded so much like a prayer the way it does now. And it's too much, it'll go right to her head to know that Bea can say her name like this.

It'll kill her if she never says it like this again.

Bea's thumb strokes over her hipbone and Ava doesn't fight off the shiver that comes. "What if I want to? What if I don't know... What if I don't know how?"

Ava's heart nearly stops in her chest. Instead, it swells, pushing through her rib cage until she can't breathe. "We can figure it out together," she manages. "Because I don't know how to do this either. Not with you. Not when it-" She wets her bottom lip, scratches at Bea's scalp. "Not when it matters this much."

There's a shuddered breath that bubbles up between them but Ava doesn't know who it comes from. Bea's eyes search hers and Ava wants her to find the truth in them. This matters. This matters more than anything.

Bea looks down again where they meet. Her forehead creases in thought, something Ava can't see. But Ava can feel some of the tension starting to leak out, something starting to smooth over between them.

"Look at me," she whispers. Bea's eyes drift back up. "Just breathe. Just... focus on me. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Not without you. I'm not-"

And then there's nothing between them as Bea's lips press tentatively against her, a whisper more than anything. Ava immediately needs more, immediately needs more of Bea than she does air. A soft noise escapes from the hollow of her throat and Bea presses in a little harder, pulling another sound out of her.

Her hand tightens gently in Bea's hair, pulls her in. That molten heat slides through her, burning hot the whole way. She pulls away, just enough to breathe in cool air, and then they're kissing again, mouths slanting against each other. It's not as neat now, the slide of their lips sending Ava on a chase to keep them connected. Bea's hand squeezes at her waist, her other curls around Ava's arm and tries to pull her closer.

Now that she's kissed Bea, now that she knows what this feels like, she's never going to be the same. She's changed for the second time in her life; a whole new person broken into two pieces: Before Kissing Beatrice and After Kissing Beatrice. She can't go back to not knowing what this is.

Bea pulls away a little, their lips still brushing as she says, "Ava, I..."

"Me too," she promises.

It's a conversation they can't have right now, pressed against the wall and each other in the bar's single stall bathroom. It's something they need to do at home, curled up in the safety of their bed where their defenses are stripped away and they're vulnerable.

But if they're not going to use their mouths to talk, Ava is going to use hers to kiss. So she pulls Bea back in, kisses her and kisses her and kisses her until someone pound on the bathroom door and they break apart, laughing a little as their hearts pound in their chest.