Radiance
You are good. Most things are awful most of the time, but you’re good.
- Casey McQuiston
At 7 am, Manon’s phone started going off.
“Manon.” Elide breathed out her name, sinking back against the other woman’s body. They spooned like the teenagers they used to be, all warm, sleepy limbs and soft skin. Burrowing into a pillow, breathing in the scent of mint and spice and madness, Elide grumbled, “Who the hell?”
“Cousins.” Manon eventually replied, her lips brushing against the back of Elide’s neck. The arm draped over Elide’s stomach curled tighter, Manon’s knuckles brushing over the edge of fabric, a sliver of bare skin. Not sexual, just … intimate. Her touch, this moment, at dawn. Elide couldn’t ever remember feeling so warm.
After approximately 500 billion more texts hit Manon’s phone, Elide poked her in the thigh, quite emphatically. “Manon.”
“Mhmm.”
“Tell them to go the fuck back to sleep.”
“Alright, alright.” Manon mumbled.
Pulling away, Manon’s hand fumbled across the bed, patting over blankets and the bedside table before finally, finally, locating (re: smacking into) her phone. Thirty seconds later, the phone dropped to the floor and Manon returned, tangling her limbs with Elide’s once more. Still very clearly half-asleep, she murmured, “Text sent. Vibrator’s off – no, no laughing. Sleep, El. Just sleep.”
So Elide did. Eyes slipping closed, breath deep, body so inconceivably warm. She slept.
+
Coven
Manon: Elide says, and I quote, go the fuck back to sleep.
+
When Vesta woke up and checked her phone, she screamed what so loudly that she scared all three pigeons roosting on her windowsill.
Ghislaine swore and fell out of bed. Like, actually fell out bed. It was humiliating.
Briar and Edda did shots. Yes, it was only ten am when they saw the text (the first fucking text that Manon had sent in a month and a fucking half). And no, the time of day didn’t feel particularly relevant. Bottoms up.
Imogen was busy having an actual goddamned life. AKA sleeping. AKA when she woke up, she also briefly considered vodka as substitute for sanity.
Kaya handed Thea twenty dollars and then went to take a shower. Anything to drown out the cackles of this is why betting against me was a bad idea. Anything.
Lin bought herself a celebratory donut. Then she remembered the three essays she had due for just one stupid college class. She bought herself another donut.
Faline and Fallon didn’t give a fuck. Well, Fallon smiled to herself. Just like, a little smile. An internal smile. Subtle-like. Faline still didn’t give a fuck (or so she said).
Sorrel was in Paris, eating nice macaroons and getting drunk off even nicer champagne. She saluted the idiots across the ocean and it was all so very French.
And Asterin? Well, when Asterin eventually emerged back into the land of living, the second thing she did was check her phone. The third thing she did was shove her face into a pillow and contemplate screaming. The fourth thing she did was go the fuck back to sleep. (And the first thing? She’d woken up beside a very cuddly and very nearly naked Petrah, so you do the fucking math).
+
At 8 am, Manon started to shift away and Elide didn’t even bother to grumble – she just pulled Manon’s arm tighter around her waist and tried to drift off again into the soft sleep haze. “Sorry El,” Manon murmured against her cheek, “I need to take Abraxos out.”
“But I’m comfy.”
“I know. Do you have to go into work today?”
“Mhm-nm.” Elide, quite helpfully, translated that sound by shaking her head no.
“Then you go back to sleep.”
“Hmmgh.”
“That’s the spirit.” Manon’s warmth lingered in the blankets they shared even after she left, and Elide slipped into sleep, without thought, beyond dreams.
Sometime later – minutes later, hours later, a lifetime later – Elide’s eyes fluttered open, not sure how she felt about this whole returning-to-the-land-of-the-living business. Curling onto her side, Elide watched the sun rising over Miami. Everything hurt. Nothing hurt as much as she thought it would.
This is a start.
Sitting up, Elide stretched, watching the interplay of amber light across the faint bruising on her wrists. Her back ached. Her cheek itched. Her left hand, her ring hand, felt … weightless. For the first time in the longest time, she didn’t have a single regret.
Manon had, very thoughtfully, left her phone on the bedside table. 12 missed calls. Picking it up, Elide ignored them all and sent the easiest text of her fucking life:
Lorcan aka the Hotstuff
Elide: We’re done. The engagement’s over.
Don’t try to contact me again.
Lorcan: Babe please let’s talk
Elide: Blocked
Pulling her hair into a messy-as-hell ponytail, Elide stumbled her way over to the bedroom window, the Atlantic ocean pouring out before her in an endless line of blue fire. Take a deep breath. Take another deep breath. She felt – like clear water. Her mind felt like a pool of clear water. At last. Elide stayed there for a long while, just breathing.
That is, until a furry dog head bumped against her hand, looking for pets or treats (or both, please both). “Hey Abraxos,” Elide leaned down and pressed a kiss against his soft fur, “Where’s your mom?” He just blinked at her mournfully, still really hoping for a treat. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything on me, but let’s see if we can’t rustle something up.” Crouching down, Elide cradled his head in her hands, lightly scratching his ears and murmuring, “What Manon doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” So Elide had a four-legged entourage as she wandered into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Morning El.” Manon said softly, pouring herself a cup of coffee from behind the kitchen counter.
“Morning.” Elide replied just as softly, coming over to settle on one of the bar stools. “What time is it?”
“Nearly ten.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry I slept so late.”
“Don’t be.” Manon’s eyes flickered up to Elide’s face, then darted away. Flicker, and away. “You want some tea? And I grabbed croissants while walking Abraxos. I don’t really, uh, have any other food at the moment.”
“Tea sounds great.” It knifed into Elide – too fast for her to brace for the blow – how Manon knew her. Knew that she never drank coffee first thing in the morning. Knew that she liked Earl Gray. Knew to let it steep for exactly three minutes. God, but I’ve missed you. Except she didn’t know how to say any of that out loud, so instead she accepted the cup of tea with a murmured thanks and ate a croissant and it was quiet. Manon just stood there and nursed her cup of coffee, watching Elide without watching her, flicker and away, flicker and away.
When there was no more tea and no reasons left to linger, Elide took a final sip of air. Just for a reason to linger. And then even that reason ran out. The sound of her mug meeting the marble counter cracked through the morning like a gun shot.
“I guess – ” Elide swallowed and tried again, unable to meet Manon’s eyes, “I guess I should get going.”
“What?” Manon set her own mug down, running a hand through her sheet of slivery hair, “I mean – if that’s what you want?”
“No, I just thought, you know, I kinda intruded on your life and …”
“It’s not quite intruding, I brought you here …”
“And I must be bothering you …”
“You’re not bothering me.” Manon’s last sentence hung in the air between them like a live wire. Sighing and take a long drink of coffee, Manon visibly pulled herself back together and said, “El. Look – if you want to go home, or to Aelin’s, or … fuck anywhere, I’ll take you. But don’t leave here because you think I want you to go.” Manon’s eyes flicked up to meet her own and this time they didn’t flicker away. “I don’t.”
And Elide … Elide toyed with the handle of her mug and she smiled and at long last, she met Manon’s gaze. “Even after I completely gate crashed your Friday night?”
That got Manon to laugh, a quick, bright thing, “Elide Lochan, you gate crashed my life when I was eight years old. There I was, just waiting for my turn on the swing and in came this little spitfire, pulling on my hair. I seem to remember you got to play on the swing first. Everything else since then has been inevitable.”
“What can I say?” Elide shrugged, grinning at the memory, “You looked like an easy mark. A real softie.”
“Only for you, Lochan.” Manon reached over and gently bumped their fists together. “Tell me El, honestly. What do you want?”
“Can I stay? For a little while longer?”
“Always.”
+
While Manon took a shower, Elide threw a treat to Abraxos (because why the hell not) and then wandered through the open bathroom door. Laying flat on the cool tile floor, Elide said, “Hey Blackbeak, how do you feel about the zoo?”
“Jesus!” She heard Manon bump into the wall in surprise. “Way to give me a fucking heart attack.”
“Sorry, should I go – ” Elide sat up, suddenly terrified that she’d misread their dynamic completely.
“No, fuck, you’re fine,” Manon laughed, “I just need to put a bell on you or something.”
“Kinky.”
Manon slid the shower door open just far enough to flick water at Elide’s face, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but please change the topic and go back to talking about the zoo.”
Laying back down, Elide let her eyes slip shut. “I’m so glad you asked. So. How do you feel about the zoo?”
Pausing before replying, Manon eventually said, “There’s no right answer to this question, is there?”
“Nope! Because if you say you love the zoo, then we’re going to the zoo. If you say you don’t like the zoo, then I will go to the zoo. By myself. And be real sad. And text you. About how sad I am. The whole time."
Audibly exhaling, Manon replied, “Alright you human raccoon – go steal my clothes and get changed. I guess we’re going to the fucking zoo. Oh, and eat that last croissant or Abraxos will.”
Elide froze in the bathroom doorway. “Umm.”
“He already did, didn’t he?”
“Yep.”
“Well fuck.”
“Enjoy your shower!”
“Out.”
So Elide scrammed, but only because she wanted to dig through Manon’s closet unsupervised. There was this one plaid skirt that she fucking loved … haha! Found it. Now – where was her favorite black turtleneck, the one that Manon always (and unsuccessfully) tried to hide? Three minutes later, Elide uncovered it from between a neon blue blazer and an ugly Christmas sweater.
Nice try Blackbeak, but better luck next time.
Slipping on Manon’s ridiculously nice clothes and using her ridiculously expensive perfume, Elide smiled at herself in the bedroom mirror, a twisted, sharp, bright thing. She didn’t wear any makeup. A bruise spread across her right cheek like an abstract impressionism painting, deep purple tinging into greens and greys. The thin cut was already starting to scab over. Not pretty. Not the worst thing she’d ever seen.
Holding her head high, Elide met her own gaze in the mirror without flinching. She would not hide. Not for him. Not ever again.
+
Lorcan hated the zoo. So they never went. Which, fuck him. Who hates the zoo?
+
Exactly two hours later, Elide stood with Manon in front of the penguin enclosure. She leaned against the railing, staring dreamy-eyed at the little waddlers. “Shhh,” Elide hushed as Manon opened her mouth, “You’ll scare off the babies. Look at the lil babies.”
Manon leaned in close and Elide could hear the smile in her voice, “Don’t you think saying look at the little babies would, I don’t know, scare the babies.”
“I said ‘lil babies’ Blackbeak. And stop being such a killjoy.”
Twenty minutes later, Manon said, “Are we … still looking at penguins.”
“Yes.”
“Okay then.”
Five more minutes passed. “El, the penguins are cute. But – ”
“Penguins.”
Sigh. A long sigh. Manon resigned herself to a penguin-filled purgatory, leaning back against the enclosure railing and tucking her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. Her shoulder nearly touched Elide’s. Nearly, nearly. “Penguins.” Two more minutes and – Manon leaned closer, “Is that … are you wearing my perfume?”
“Yes? Do you mind? It’s just it smells really nice, and – ”
“No, no.” Manon cut her off before that sentence could waste another word. “I don’t care. I, uh, happen to agree. It does smell nice.” She cleared her throat and stared intently at the penguins.
“Well thanks.” Elide couldn’t resist flashing Manon a smile and giving a little twirl on her good foot. “Also, I found the plaid skirt. And my favorite turtleneck.”
“Yes, I noticed that.”
“Can I steal it? Permanently?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Pretty damn.”
“Okay. Cool.”
“You’re still going to try and steal it aren’t you?”
“Shit yes, Blackbeak. And I thought you were the brains of this operation.”
“I’ve been staring at penguins for forty minutes. Penguins, El. They’re too incompetent to fly. They can’t even walk properly.”
“Hush. Don’t insult Jethro where he can hear you. He’s a sensitive soul.”
Manon snorted, “Ten more minutes, El. I can stand this for ten more minutes.”
“Deal.”
At the five-minute mark, Elide found her gaze slipping over to Manon, the line of her profile, the baby hairs that slipped free from her braid to flutter in the wind. She looked … tired. Drawn. Like too little skin stretched over too much bone. A careful brush of concealer couldn’t quite cover the purple circles imprinted beneath her eyes.
“What is it, El?” Manon asked softly.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Fine. You look … tired.”
Manon sighed, “Yeah, well, I haven’t been doing a lot of sleeping.”
“Me neither.” Elide replied, and for a moment, just a moment, she nearly tangled her hand with Manon’s, their fingertips brushing together. “Last night was the first time in a long time.”
“Nightmares?”
“Constantly.”
At that, Manon really did take Elide’s hand. “Well that’s shit.”
“Too fucking true.” Elide smiled, lightly squeezing Manon’s hand and glancing over her face once again. “You haven’t been eating well either, have you?”
“What gave it away?” Manon laughed softly, but the sound wasn’t really funny.
“Knowing you. During college finals I practically had to sit on you before you’d remember to stop and have a protein bar.”
“Don’t worry, Asterin has taken over that pleasant task.”
“Lucky her.” Elide muttered. “She’s throwing them at you until you eat one, isn’t she?”
“Yes. And she’d not too careful about where she aims either.”
“I always knew I liked her more than you.”
“Shut up, El.” Manon lightly bumped their shoulders together.
“Whatever, Manon. First thing tomorrow morning we’re going to the grocery store and don’t you dare bitch at me when I buy you healthy bread. I checked and your fridge looks like something out of a zombie apocalypse.” And then Elide froze when her brain caught up with what her mouth was saying. “Umm, that is of course, if you want to, I mean we don’t have to, I don’t know why I assumed I was staying with you again…”
“El. El. You’re rambling. Badly. I told you this morning, you can always stay with me. Even if that means I have to eat your weird health bread.”
“Oh. Okay. Good. Because … um … I would. Like to stay. Tonight.”
“Good.” Manon parroted back at her, smiling like she was lighting up from the inside out. Her eyes turned bright as amber, illuminated. “Now, if I promise to buy you dinner, can we please leave these penguins?”
“Dumplings.”
Manon’s eyes narrowed. “Deal. But we’re going to the place near my apartment. I need alcohol.”
“I get an extra dumpling every time you speed.”
“I hope you’re fucking hungry.”
Elide was, in fact, fucking hungry. Good thing, because it ended up being a lot of dumplings (the speed limit is not a suggestion Manon). Curling into the low booth at the restaurant, Elide sipped sake and felt it go straight to her head. That’s why her cheeks were flushed and the world felt slightly too warm. It had nothing to do with Manon, sitting across from her and getting a little tipsy too, unwinding like she so rarely ever unwound.
The world thinks it knows you, Manon Blackbeak, but I see clearly.
“Here, try this one.” Manon held out a dumpling between her chopsticks. Without knowing why she did it, (that's a lie, but the truth is rocky territory and we’re far from solid ground), Elide leaned forward and took it with her teeth. Manon’s pupils blew black, just a little, just enough for something in Elide’s core to clench white-hot.
Don’t think about.
(She was having a very hard time not thinking about it).
Then the dumpling worked it’s magic and Elide closed her eyes with a groan. “Umm, fuck, that’s really good.”
“Um. Yeah. Yes.” Elide opened her eyes in time to see Manon blink and shake her head like a dog. The sight was oddly endearing.
“Do you have more?”
“It’s like I’m eating with a raccoon. A hungry, feral raccoon.”
“I take that as compliment. Fork ‘em over. And we should probably order more.”
“By ‘we’ you mean ‘me’?”
Yes Manon is what Elide would have said if her mouth wasn’t full of stolen dumpling. Manon ordered more.
By 9 pm, the restaurant had gone quiet and the sake had well and truly suffused Elide’s system. Turning the small cup in her hand, watching light glint through glass, Elide murmured, “He called you a dyke, you know? Last night when we were fighting. A fucking dyke.”
Manon sighed, a muscle working in her jaw. “El, I’ve been called much worse.”
Elide just shook her head, a little frustrated, “You don’t understand. I know you’ve heard worse. But it’s wrong, and Lorcan acted like it was okay. He also basically called me a whore, because you know, bisexuals just can’t keep it in their pants. Which, fuck him. Just fuck him. He’s lucky I didn’t shoot him like I shot Vernon. The next man who tries to invalidate my sexuality, I fucking swear to god …”
Taking another sip of sake, Elide tipped her head back and let the warmth burn out the darkness. “It was when he pushed Heathrow off the counter that I fucking snapped. I don’t know, Manon, it’s like I’d never really seen him before. You know? I was standing there, looking at the man I said I’d marry, and I didn’t know him at all. It's over, by the way, our engagement. I texted him this morning. I should never have agreed to marry him in the first place.
God, I’ve made so many mistakes. So many fucking mistakes.”
Watching Elide carefully, so carefully, Manon reached out and interlaced her right hand with Elide’s left. “El, what happened last night was not your fault. You know that, right?”
“I know that. I know. But the shit I said to you, the morning of the wedding. That’s on fucking me.”
Squeezing their hands together, Manon waited until Elide met her gaze. “Yeah? Well I remember being a real bitch. I remember hurting you. We’ll … we can talk about this whenever you’re ready. Until then, I just want you to know that I’m so fucking sorry.”
Reaching out, Elide traced her thumb across Manon’s cheekbone for a breathless span of time. “Me too.”
“El.” Manon closed her eyes at Elide’s touch, only opening them again when her hand dropped away. “Promise me something? If you ever start to worry that it was your fault, what Lorcan did, come find me, okay? Come talk to me.”
“Pinky promise.”
“That’s my girl.” And Manon lifted Elide’s knuckles to her lips, brushing the lightest kiss across her skin. Elide couldn’t breathe. She wanted Manon to touch her again. She wanted to drown in the sensation forever. “You alright?” Manon asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Perfect.” Elide replied, unable to keep herself from smiling, how could she dim the fucking sun ignited inside her chest? “Just a little tired.”
“But El, it’s not even 10 pm. The night is young.” Manon replied, eyes glinting with mischief.
“Bed, Blackbeak, I want to go to bed.”
“Fine. And you call me the killjoy. Let’s go to sleep.”
That night, it was barely a discussion, whether Elide would sleep in Manon’s bed. She hovered at the bedroom doorway, not quite sure how to ask for this, when Manon tugged back the covers and raised an eyebrow – invitation and offering. And Elide was done fucking waiting. Snuggling under the blankets beside Manon, she laid her head against the other woman’s shoulder, murmuring, “You smell nice."
“I smell like the zoo.” Manon replied, resting her cheek against Elide’s hair.
“Mhmmm.”
“Go to sleep, El.” Manon settled one arm over Elide's stomach, holding her close. Laying there, so inconceivably warm, Elide fell asleep and it felt like a miracle. Because she didn’t dream.