As the 9:55 announcement reached its end, Undine put down the dish she had just washed and leaned heavily on the edge of the sink, staring at her hands. Water, driven entirely by gravity, dripped from her rubber gloves. Undine sighed, feeling suddenly tired. It had been five years since she could bend water to her will. Five years since that announcement was meant for her.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, taking Undine’s hands despite the chunky rubber gloves.
“Hey.” Undine leaned back into Kokoro’s embrace, settling against the taller woman’s body with the ease of long familiarity. They watched together as the Barrier covered the kitchen window with a dull purplish glow.
“You OK?”
“Yeah.”
“OK.” Kokoro leaned forward, her dark hair spilling over her wife’s shoulder as she dropped a quick kiss on Undine’s cheek. Undine had other ideas, though, turning quickly for Kokoro’s mouth.
“Oho!”
Undine smiled at that, murmuring through the kiss. “Oho.”
“Mama Koro? Wanna story!” The third voice drifted down from upstairs.
Kokoro pulled gently away, chuckling. “The dragon demands tribute.”
Undine pushed her toward the stairs. “Best go, then. You know you can find me later.”
“Always could.”
Humming quietly, Undine finished drying the dishes. As the last one went in the rack, she listened to the stomping and growling of whatever beast Kokoro was describing to their daughter. Undine always thought Kokoro was too energetic for telling “bedtime” stories, but the kid loved them. And Kokoro, always moving anyway, was just as excited now as the day they’d finalized the adoption application.
Which—Undine shook her head, suddenly fuzzy—which was yesterday. They’d only completed the application yesterday.
Undine turned toward the stairs in time to hear a loud thump.
“Kokoro?”
Upstairs, a silence fell. then:
“Mama Dine? Wanna story!”