[Ana:] Keeping This

It was a new sensation, waking up in someone else’s arms. 

But there was a lot of that going on with Zetera. A lot of new sensations- a lot of new feelings. 

Fucking terrifying as all shit but I never did make good life choices. Live fast die hard, bad girls get the best girl. 

They were ensconced in Ana’s roost; somehow, they met there nightly after the little Templar Beach Party, Blackwald’s amazing brainchild, and a perfect excuse to wear as little as she could possibly get away with. If the searing kisses were any indication… well. Zetera appreciated her wearing them almost as much as Ana did vice versa. It was a cave, though it was more than that, and only accessible via gliding. Ana had turned it into a cozy little hovel with all the trappings of home, including a pile of furs. Nestled in that pile was Ana herself, and Zetera, too upon whose amazing biceps Ana currently rested her head. 

Kinda like this little spoon business. 

It’s just more to lose, you know, when the Legion comes for you… and they will. You know they- 

Gettin’ real tired of your shit, you sniveling fuckass. Back in line or I’ll put you in so much pain you’ll wish you COULD die for real. 

It was not an empty threat. Silence from her literal inner demon attested to that. “…Good,” Ana muttered, and turned over, tucking herself into the curve of Zetera’s chest, watching her breathing, looking at the way the tattoos rose and fell, remembering tracing them with little licks and nibbles… Her own pulsed lazily in response. She grinned a bit, tucking a wing around them under the covers. 

Around them, thunder rumbled complaint and lightning flashed a retort, high in the sky. Hard rain fell beyond the leather curtain that served to keep the elements out of her makeshift abode; the outside of it was spelled to mimic the texture of the rocky cliff face. Chill air seeped under it, but not too much, just enough to make the furs a delightfully pleasant contrast. Violet locks the texture of silk tickled her nose as she shifted, careful not to wake the other hunter. 

Nothing good ever lasts, though, you ought to know that, she told herself, looking at Zetera. And she’s possibly the best fucking thing that ever happened to your stupid demonic ass. So don’t you fuck this up, miserable insect. Don’t you fuck this up. 

Ana swallowed against some emotion she didn’t know, couldn’t name, and ignored her heart a little harder, even as she drew close enough for Zetera to shift slightly in her sleep and for Ana to nestle her face in the hollow of her collarbones and neck. 

She’d sworn to sacrifice everything. And she had; they all had. Past and futures, selves, their very souls, damned to a self-chosen eternity of fel only knew what waited if or when they finally kicked it. She’d loved nothing so much to refuse giving it up. If you couldn’t live without it, chances were it was weakness, and it ought to be disposed of… just in case. The Legion had to be stopped. Nothing else mattered. Not the sight of the sunrise or the taste of a homecooked meal or the love of a parent’s arms around their child or the light of the moon on her skin and the reassurance it brought or the friendly smiles of her people for one of their own. 

But for once… just once- 

-Maybe I won’t HAVE to sacrifice this. Maybe this, this I can keep, this small quiet moment. This. Us. 

Her.

Closing her eyes against the cold and the storm outside (and in), Ana willed the Legion to fuck off for just a few more hours to lay in the arms of the woman she might just love.