Chapter 1
They’re quiet in the mornings.
Kelley thinks it’s because of the way the light slants in through the window of their bedroom, soft and pure, casting a slight glow across the wide expanse of skin between her shoulder blade and her hip. When she wakes up first, she traces her fingers lightly down her back, outlining the borders of shadow and light where the sun peeks through the slats of the blinds.
“Shh, stop moving,” she mutters one morning when Hope stirs, mumbling something faint about fixing coffee and attempting to roll over to face Kelley. “Stay there for a second.”
Hope lets out a small huff of air, a smile painting her lips as she plops her head back onto her pillow. Kelley rests her chin on one hand and uses the others to memorize the curve of Hope’s side, wishing her fingerprints could somehow imprint onto her skin, leaving an irreparable mark.
Eventually her hands wander too far, a little too low and then a little too high, and Hope flips over with a small smirk on her face.
“Hi.” She cradles Kelley’s head in both hands, thumbs grazing against her jaw. Kelley smiles slightly, dropping her chin as Hope presses a kiss to her cheek, and she nuzzles in slightly against the sharp angle of the taller woman’s collarbone, lips finding purchase against the scripted tattoo there. Her voice sucks in and then out in a sudden, insistent way that has Hope pulling her suddenly tighter. “What’s wrong?”
It’s nothing really, and for a moment Kelley is hit with a pang of guilt for letting a single intake of breath taint this breath. It's just that she's never the first to wake up, as far as she can remember, and she's become so used to the smell of coffee or a box of donuts or a quiet challenge to a sprinting competition or just Hope's lips being the thing to wake her up. Dragging herself slowly into consciousness reminds her of past mornings and the bitterness of stirring her own coffee and showering slowly to wash herself of memories of the night before.
"Sometimes I remember waking up alone," she murmurs, and Hope's eyes soften, her grip on Kelley tightening. "And how you'd always be there when it was dark and not when it was light."
She's not sure if there's much else to say, but it doesn't matter because Hope's mouth is gentle and insistent on hers and it seems to Kelley that she's trying to take her breath away. For a moment she just lets them tangle together, but she can feel the reluctance in the way Hope is touching her, as if she's too fragile to hold.
"You know—" Hope's voice is insistent as she drags herself away. "I always waited. In the mornings, when I left. I always tried to make myself stay."
Kelley watches her face carefully, because there are still old wounds that are knitting themselves shut despite the years separating their old selves from who they are now.
"I memorized every damn freckle on your back." Hope chuckles, one finger dragging along Kelley's bicep. "And there's so fucking many of them, Kell. Like God, why are there so many?"
"You love my Irish ass," Kelley mutters defensively, pressing a kiss lazily to Hope's shoulder.
She can feel Hope smile more than she can see it, and she softens at the touch of Hope's hands on the small of her back, pressing her closer.
"I'm sorry." The words are hushed against her ear. "I'm so, so sorry, Kell—"
"You're okay." Her lips are a little less lazy and a little more intentional now as they press against Hope's jaw. "How about you make me breakfast and I'll forgive everything?"
Hope flips them with a laugh, her hands quick and strong against her ribcage, pinning her back into the mattress.
"I love you." Hope presses a kiss to her forehead and it's sweet and gentle and stupid in the way it still makes her stomach flip.
Later — much later because Kelley is tirelessly patient and Hope likes to take her time in the morning — Kelley curls back into bed with a mug of coffee in hand, mixed with the perfect combination of cream and sugar that Hope memorized during their third tournament together. She takes her first sip and blushes slight when Hope reaches out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Cheers." She clinks the edges of their mugs together. "To a future of waking up together."
And Kelley's not sure if it's the first sip of coffee or the way Hope kisses her, but the rest of the day feels a little sweeter.