Citrus
The hammer struck on Monday. But it was Sunday. They still had a little time. They didn’t know it, but this was just the eye of the hurricane.
+
“What the hell did you do to my girlfriend?”
Briar, keeping a very firm hold on Manon’s waist, grinned. On Manon’s other side, Edda waved her fingers and winked.
Frozen in the doorway to their apartment, Elide looked at Manon and asked, more than a little shocked, “Are you drunk?”
“Hi baby. You look hot.” Manon attempted and failed to wink.
Briar laughed, “Oh yeah, she’s plastered.”
“But – ” Elide’s brain sputtered around this information. “But she doesn’t do drunk. She barely does tipsy.”
“Mimosas.” Briar and Edda answered at the same time.
“I do like a mimosa.” Manon nodded.
“Yeah Manon.” Edda rolled her eyes. “We know.”
Briar snorted. “You should see Asterin. Petrah’s going to have her hands full.”
Elide couldn’t hide her smile, but she did try to keep it contained. She’d had a sneaking suspicion that everything would go fuckity upptiy. Sure, Asterin had said that she didn’t want to celebrate her engagement to Petrah at a club. And sure, Asterin had claimed that goat yoga would be chill and brunch would be low-key. That had clearly worked.
“Well here you go!” Briar dumped Manon into Elide’s arms.
“Thanks.” Elide muttered, trying to keep Manon upright.
“Anytime.” Saluting them, the twins made a very speedy getaway. Elide couldn’t say she blamed them, although she did want to clobber them.
Kicking the door shut, Elide said, “Alright Manon. Heels off.”
“But why?” Manon replied, leaning down so she could kiss Elide's cheek and wobbling alarmingly.
“That’s why. I literally have no idea how you’re still walking.”
“Kay.” Manon kicked her heels off and Elide winced. My god, Manon really needed to work on her habit of treating shoes like a battering ram on the obstacle course of life. “Oh, this is much better El, now I can really kiss you,” Manon said, pressing her lips against the nape of Elide’s neck.
“You are so not sober.” Laughing, Elide directed Manon over to the couch. “Please sit down. And for the love of god, stay down.”
“El, come back. I miss you. You and your tight little yoga pants.”
Staring up at the ceiling for long moment, Elide couldn’t tell if she wanted to laugh hysterically or start videotaping. Maybe both? Manon currently had one leg in the air while scrolling through Hulu. So both it was.
Grabbing the love of her life some water, Elide called out, “Babe, what you doing?”
“Stretching.”
“Okay. Keep up the good work.”
“Yes ma’am.” The second she sat on the couch, Manon laid down so that her head rested in Elide’s lap. Wrapping her arms around Elide’s waist, Manon pressed her forehead against her stomach and said, voice muffled, “Can we watch Say Yes to the Dress? I promise to be good.”
Lies, Manon.
Her hand was sneaking its way right up Elide’s shirt.
“Okay, okay!” Elide said, laughing. “We can watch, but you have to keep your hands to yourself until sobriety takes over, Miss Blackbeak.”
“Whatever you say, baby.” Manon winked, snuggling in closer.
“I’m keeping an eye on you.” Elide tried to sound stern.
Manon nodded back, her face very serious. “Absolutely. Wouldn’t dream of getting handsy.”
“God save me.” Elide murmured, praying that the show would distract Manon. It ... kind of worked?
Halfway through the first episode, Manon made this helpful contribution:
“Did you know I’m Baby Spice?”
“What babe?”
“No, not babe. Baby Spice. From the Spice Girls. I always say that I’m Scary Spice, but Baby Spice speaks to my soul.”
“Thank you for sharing that Manon. I’ll be sure to remember.”
“Okay good.”
Twenty minutes later, Manon gave Elide a small heart attack:
“If we get married, would you wear a dress? I mean you could be a suit kind of girl. Or potato sack. Don’t want to assume. But you’d look so pretty in a white dress.”
Brushing a hand softly over Manon’s forehead, toying with the baby hairs, Elide couldn’t fight her smile. “You want to marry me, Blackbeak?”
“Duh.”
[Petrah]
Elide: is Asterin also wasted
Because Manon is FRIED
Petrah: Oh my god.
Yes.
Elide: I've learned that Manon is baby spice.
Petrah: I now have a golden retriever.
Elide: HAHAHAHA
Petrah: Her name is Margaret????
Elide: You are so whipped
Petrah: I KNOW
Elide: oh crap Manon woke up. Gotta go wrangle. Godspeed.
Petrah: send pics.
Elide: I want goat yoga videos. Manon hates doing the dishes. I would like incentive.
Petrah: never say these came from me.
+
That night, with Manon safely tucked in bed, Elide walked through their apartment. Straightening pillows. Putting away the dry dishes. Standing at the windows, watching the lights of Miami, the dark horizon of the ocean. Curling her arms around her chest, she just let herself smile. Let it light her up from the inside out.
Their apartment. Their home.
Manon had asked her a week ago, if she wanted to make moving in official. And Elide hadn’t hesitated for a second, not for a fucking beat, when she said yes and pulled Manon a hug so fast that their bodies swung around with the force of it.
Theirs, now. Ours.
Going to pressing a kiss into Abraxos’ fur, Elide went to bed and curled around Manon’s sleeping body. “I love you, baby,” she murmured against the other woman’s cheek, and Manon exhaled, all her limbs going loose as she sank back into Elide’s warmth.
I love you so much. This much.