third
Two months — eight weeks — also means that there still hasn’t been a check up. Leonora is refusing to see the healer, even when Clarissa promises to be there the whole time, but the redhead just shakes her head and lets her focus shift back to the essays that are in desperate need to be graded.
“I don’t see the point” she mumbles when the scratching of the quill’s tip on the parchment stops. “I possess enough knowledge over my own body to know when something isn’t right, there is no need to consult a healer.” The quill begins to scratch on the rough surface again and they fall silent.
There is no point in arguing. They both know Leonora is terrible at listening to the cues her body is trying to give her, she usually straight up ignores them, and that adds to the already existing concern Dovey feels but if she speaks up now there’s a full blown discussion again and while the dean for evil is supposed to focus on her essays Clarissa deserves some time off, too.
However, half an hour, seven essays and one book later the fairy godmother rises from the couch by the fireplace and approaches her partner from behind. Gentle hands are pushing red hair aside and settle by her shoulders before thumbs apply gentle pressure against the tight muscles by Leonora’s shoulder. It doesn’t take long for her to put the quill aside and allow a sigh to make it past her lips.
“You’re tense” Clarissa says quietly before she leans closer and brings her lips to the top the wild, red curls. “You should rest.”
“I am resting,” the other woman replies. “I am sitting down, if you haven’t noticed.”
“And you’re working. Please, rest. You had an exhausting week and didn’t sleep much. The essays can wait until tomorrow.” With that she gathers Leonora’s hair into a low ponytail and with the swish of her finger a golden ribbon ties itself around it. A section of stubborn curls slips from beneath the silk and rests by her right temple, but it doesn’t seem to bother the witch so they leave it be. “I assume you also haven’t eaten today?”
A huff.
“Lesso.”
“I didn’t feel like it, okay? I eat enough on other days, I can skip a meal or two here and there.”
“Not when here and there means the last two days” the blonde woman argues softly and tucks the curl behind her partner’s ear. “I worry about you, Nora. And I understand that you are having a hard time adjusting to the situation but at the moment it’s not just you you have to care for but this tiny berry sized baby as well.”
Another sigh. Clarissa can’t tell if Leonora is getting annoyed or just overall more exhausted, so she moves from behind her and cups her cheeks, gently makes her look at her.
“I love you” Dovey then whispers, so close to the other woman’s lips that they’re almost touching. “So much. And I just want you to be okay and happy and healthy.”
Leonora looks at her. Piercing gray eyes are finding Dovey’s and they kiss, yes, but it’s calm, gentle, careful, and— “I know” the dean for evil replies equally as quiet against plump lips. “And I’m sorry.” Apologies from her are rare as they are meaningful and Clarissa makes sure to remember every single one of them.
_____
They eat. Leonora manages to have a couple spoonfuls of soup — she eats by the fire, after unbuttoning the tight coat and changing into soft, wide cut pants and a simple shirt, ditching the heels for woolen socks — and Clarissa watches her with a soft smile on her lips. The gray, knitted sweater that soon covers the shirt gets pushed up just enough for a hand to sneak under it.
Them sitting there on a Friday evening is domestic, just spending time together in their shared quarters, and there’s more kissing, a soft “Thank you for having a few bites, Love”, fingertips on pale skin, tracing scars that have been left by her stomach from encounters with various beasts and enemies. She doesn’t know the stories but Clarissa kisses every single one of them, mumbles words against her partner’s lower abdomen. There’s not much yet and it is hard to understand what she is saying, but the gesture is sweet and it’s probably the hormones but Leonora watches her closely and feels her heart fluttering.
“Promise me something?”
The dean for good looks up and tilts her head slightly, furrows her brows. “Anything.” It’s unusual for Leonora to ask such questions.
“I’m working on it. The whole seeing a healer thing? I just— I need more time. Trusting other people is hard enough already but I have been feeling more and more protective and on edge just thinking about someone else finding out about my—“ she pauses, “the situation I’m in.”
Clarissa has to smile. “Your pregnancy? Our child?”
“Yes” she confirms rather slowly and keeps her eyes on the fairy godmother.
It’s a sign to ask further questions. “What are you scared of? You surely don’t seem to care about the regular gossip the students are coming up with, I doubt it’ll be much different when you start showing. And nobody wishes to harm you.”
“Oh you have no idea” Leonora replies with a chuckle. “At least half of your school wants to see me dead, that’s for sure, and I have a bunch of idiots that would even just accidentally poison me if I wasn’t careful enough. It’s a sensitive topic and I cannot afford to show any weakness, not in front of anyone.”
“But me.”
“But you. Same goes for the staff, they hate me.”
A pout follows. “That’s not true,” the blonde woman argues softly, “things have changed.”
“Just because Emma tolerates me plainly due to the fact that she is aware of our relationship doesn’t mean the others do too, Clarissa.” Her hand covers her partner’s and she gently squeezes her fingers. “I need this to be ours for as long as possible. Please. Even if it means a whole lot of lies.”
Pushing herself up the other woman nods, agrees, and they kiss again. Leonora doesn’t need more than that, it’s enough of a confirmation for her to know that Clarissa respects her wishes.