~ Just Meet Me At The ~
“Gigi, you idiot. Why did I let you drag me into this mess.”
When Cecilia whispered it alone in the tiny hallway of the karaoke place, she meant it full-heartedly despite lacking a heart. Currently, she’s standing right outside the karaoke room, where the rest of Justice was, her hand halting on the knob where she needs to take deep, calming breaths… she didn’t need to breathe, but the action helped bring her anxiety down. Her mind circles back to a certain gremlin, just beyond the door ahead.
Probably screaming out lyrics. The thought makes her smile softly.
Gigi whose annoying grin persists in her memories, whose stupid antics leave her looking dumbfounded and heated… Gigi whose infuriating eyes drive the automaton crazy. The list goes on and on in Cecilia’s hands, metaphorically reaching the ground and rolling continuously with everything the gremlin was and is.
If Cecilia had to put it into words how wrong it all should’ve been. She would simply say, the moon may long for the sun, but they will never share the same sky. It was simply never going to work—she was an automaton, she didn’t age… she wasn’t human.
But, she’s getting carried away. Justice is waiting for her, so with a final breath she twisted the knob. Before she even registers the bright karaoke room, she’s tackled backwards, almost falling all the way if it weren’t for the narrow hallway, and the wall behind her. The impact didn’t hurt at all, just shocked her for a bit.
“Ceci!!” the yell vibrates through her porcelain body by the fact that Gigi was pressing against her, clinging onto her so tightly with her face buried into her shoulder.
She doesn’t even have time to process what’s happening because Elizabeth is walking out with the panthera resting comfortably on her back, Raora’s arms draped sleepily over their leader’s shoulders, looking completely dazed, her pink tail swaying gently below Liz’s chin.
“Hey Ceci. Can I trust you to bring Gigi back to base? I think she’s a bit drunk. Also, she refused to leave with me while whining about where you were.” Elizabeth responds tiredly, her crimson eyes pleading that she could only care for one intoxicated person in this state.
It doesn’t take long for the sigh to escape her lips, as she reluctantly agrees. Elizabeth thanks her with an exhausted smile and leaves… now it was just the two of them left.
Cecilia glances down at the short, drunk woman in her arms, her body limp and uncooperative. She can’t get anywhere with Gigi clinging to her this tightly, whining and muttering incoherently. Cecilia sighs again, her brain scrambling to get out of the situation. The only option left, it seems, is to figure out how to move her without disturbing her fragile state.
With careful movement, she shifts her grip, positioning Gigi against her chest, adjusting until the smaller woman’s legs are loosely wrapped around her waist, and her arms fall over Cecilia’s shoulders. It’s not exactly a piggyback, but it’s the closest she can manage—Gigi’s weight supported by Cecilia’s front, Gigi’s face resting against her shoulder still.
As she does, Cecilia notices Gigi’s tail—smooth, black, and marble-like, coiling gently around her body. The tip of it flicks against Cecilia’s other shoulder as it sways, the golden eye at the end blinking slowly as if it’s aware of the situation too. The warm sensation of the tail against her skin almost makes her hesitate, as though the tail might whisper her secrets if it could speak.
“Come on, Gigi,” Cecilia muttered under her breath, ignoring the tail’s presence, trying her best to block out the drunken mumbling from the woman clinging to her. “Let’s go home.”
But Gigi wasn’t making it easy. Her grip tightened, arms locked around Cecilia’s neck like a vice, her voice trembling as she whimpered softly. “Ceci…” It was a slow, drawn-out plea, her tone unusually tender. The sound hit Cecilia square in the chest, pulling at something deep and uncomfortable within her. She quickly dismissed the feeling—this wasn’t about her right now. Gigi needed to get back to headquarters in one piece.
The muffled blare of music from the karaoke room was louder now, like it had followed them out to the hallway. With a sigh, Cecilia carefully walked back into the room, holding Gigi tightly against her. The smaller woman was completely slack in her arms, save for the stubborn clinging. Gigi’s head lolled lazily against Cecilia’s shoulder, her breath warm and uneven against the automaton’s cool porcelain skin.
‘Don’t you want me like I want you, baby?’
The lyrics hit her harder than she expected, echoing in a space she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge. Cecilia’s gaze drifted to the monitor, her hand hovering briefly over the buttons before she shut it off. The silence was sudden, almost jarring, save for the soft, off-key humming that spilled from Gigi’s lips—like she was trying to carry on the song herself.
‘Don’t you need me like I need you, now?’
Cecilia sighed again, cradling Gigi closer. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, but her tone lacked its usual sharpness. Instead, it was warm, tinged with a hint of fond exasperation. “Let’s get you home before you fall apart.”
The cold night air hit them as soon as they stepped outside. It nipped at Cecilia’s skin—not that she felt the chill the way a human would—but she instinctively shifted her hold, wrapping Gigi protectively against her chest to shield her from the icy breeze. Gigi’s head shifted slightly, her nose brushing against Cecilia’s neck as she murmured incoherently.
“Mm… Ceci,” Gigi slurred, the words tumbling out like a drunk confession. “Did you… did you know your eyes are like… shiny buttons? But, like… the good kind. The pretty kind. I could… I could look at them forever…”
Cecilia’s steps faltered for the briefest of moments, her porcelain face heating despite its inability to blush. She tightened her hold around Gigi and kept walking, quickening her pace down the quiet streets toward Justice headquarters.
“Gigi, stop talking nonsense,” she chided softly, though her voice lacked conviction.
“Nooo… not nonsense,” Gigi protested, her words dragging together. “You’re so… so perfect, Ceci. Like, unfair perfect. Like… like if the moon got jealous of a star. That kind of perfect…”
Cecilia swallowed hard, refusing to let the words linger too long in her mind. “You’re drunk,” she said, her voice steadier this time. “You won’t remember any of this in the morning.”
“I’ll remember,” Gigi insisted, her words barely coherent but somehow carrying a strange sincerity. “You’ll see… I’ll always remember. ‘Cause… ‘cause I lo—”
“Gigi,” Cecilia interrupted, her voice firmer now, though her arms unconsciously tightened around the smaller woman. “You’re going to regret this conversation if you keep talking. Just rest.”
Gigi’s response was a low, unintelligible grumble as her tail coiled more tightly around Cecilia, its warm marble-like surface brushing against the automaton’s arm in a way that felt oddly reassuring. Despite everything, Cecilia couldn’t help but glance down at her charge, her expression softening as she took in Gigi’s peaceful face.
The streets grew quieter as they approached the Justice headquarters, the towering silhouette of the building looming against the night sky. The cold seemed sharper here, but Cecilia barely noticed anymore. Her focus was entirely on Gigi—ensuring she was safe, warm, and out of harm’s way.
As they reached closer, Gigi mumbled one last thing, her voice so faint Cecilia almost missed it.
“Ceci… you’re my favourite… forever…”
Cecilia’s chest tightened once more, the words pressing against the part of her she’d spent so long ignoring. She shook her head, forcing herself to focus as the door creaked open. There would be time to process this later—or maybe there wouldn’t. For now, Gigi needed her. And that was all that mattered.
“Almost there,” Cecilia whispered, her voice barely audible above the wind as she carried Gigi inside.
The soft glow of Justice headquarters’ interior lights greeted Cecilia as she carried Gigi through the halls. It was late—most of the team would be asleep by now—but the quiet didn’t bother her. If anything, it felt more comforting, like the world had softened to make space for just the two of them.
Gigi’s room was at the far end of the corridor, its door slightly ajar. Cecilia nudged it open with her foot, carefully stepping inside. The room was messy, as always—papers scattered over the desk, an empty cup balanced precariously on the edge of the nightstand. The bed, however, was surprisingly neat.
“Alright,” Cecilia murmured, easing Gigi down toward the mattress. “Time to sleep.”
But Gigi wasn’t letting go. Her arms tightened around Cecilia’s neck, and her tail coiled more firmly against her waist, refusing to loosen its hold. The smaller woman whined softly, burying her face into Cecilia’s shoulder.
“Don’t wanna…” Gigi mumbled, her voice muffled but insistent. “You’ll… leave.”
Cecilia let out a quiet sigh, her lips curving into a reluctant smile. “Gigi, you’re in your room. I’m not going far.” She gently tried to pry Gigi’s arms off her neck, but the gremlin held on stubbornly.
“No…” Gigi grumbled, her voice wobbling slightly. “Stay. Stay here… ‘Cause… ‘cause I’ll miss you if you go…”
“Gigi,” Cecilia said softly, her voice steady but warm. “You’re not going to miss me. You’ll be asleep.”
Gigi groaned, shaking her head weakly. “Not the same,” she muttered, her words slurred but strangely coherent. “If you go… it’ll feel like… like I lost you or somethin’.”
Cecilia froze for a moment, Gigi’s words pressing against her in a way she didn’t quite know how to handle. “You’re drunk,” she whispered, as much to herself as to Gigi. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
But Gigi only nuzzled closer, her breath warm against Cecilia’s porcelain neck. “I know,” she insisted, her voice soft but stubborn. “Ceci… you make everything better. You’re like… like a good dream. Don’t leave.”
Cecilia’s heart—or the place where one might’ve been—ached at the honesty in Gigi’s drunken rambling. She hesitated, glancing toward the bed. It wasn’t as if Gigi wasn’t clingy normally—her playful antics and easy affection were constants—but this… This was something else entirely. And yet, Cecilia couldn’t bring herself to push her away.
“Alright,” she said quietly, a reluctant warmth in her tone. “I’ll stay. But only until you fall asleep.”
Gigi’s grip loosened slightly, but she didn’t let go completely. Her tail flicked lazily, the golden eye at its tip blinking once as though it approved. “Good,” Gigi murmured, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips. “’Cause… you’re my favourite…”
Cecilia gently eased Gigi onto the bed, her movements careful and deliberate. The smaller woman’s hands clung loosely to Cecilia’s sleeves, her expression soft and hazy as she began to drift off. Cecilia adjusted the blanket over her, tucking it around her shoulders, and leaned down instinctively.
She hesitated for a moment, her gaze softening as she watched Gigi’s peaceful face. Then, with a tenderness that surprised even herself, she pressed a gentle kiss to Gigi’s forehead.
“Goodnight, Gigi,” Cecilia murmured. “Sleep well.”
Just as she straightened up to leave, Gigi shifted, her tail wrapping loosely around Cecilia’s wrist as though to stop her. The automaton hesitated, her gaze flickering to the door before settling back on Gigi.
The warmth in her chest, the ache in the spaces where emotions lingered, told her what she already knew. She sighed softly, a small, resigned smile touching her lips, and slipped onto the bed beside Gigi.
Almost immediately, Gigi turned in her sleep, instinctively curling into Cecilia and wrapping her arms tightly around her. A soft, contented smile tugged at Gigi’s lips, and for the first time that night, she seemed entirely at peace.
Cecilia lay still, her porcelain body cool against Gigi’s warmth. She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions she refused to name. But as Gigi’s quiet breathing steadied, Cecilia allowed herself to relax, her own eyes drifting closed... she couldn't really sleep.
The night stretched on as the soft, steady rhythm of Gigi’s breathing filled the room, Cecilia’s mind wandered back to the thoughts she’d buried deep within herself—the same thoughts that had haunted her for so long.
The moon may long for the sun, but they will never share the same sky. That had been her truth. A truth she clung to because it made sense, because it gave her an excuse to keep her distance, to not get too close.
But now, with Gigi’s warmth pressed against her side and the golden glow of dawn spilling across the room, the words felt… wrong.
The moon and the sun didn’t share the same sky, yes—but they didn’t have to. Their worlds touched every dawn and every dusk, painting the heavens with a beauty neither could achieve alone. They complemented one another, their differences blending into something breathtaking.
Cecilia glanced down at Gigi, her expression softening as she took in the peaceful rise and fall of the smaller woman’s chest. Gigi’s hair was a mess, her tail draped lazily across the bed, the golden eye at its tip closed like it, too, was at peace. And Cecilia realised, with a clarity that startled her, that Gigi didn’t see their differences as barriers. Gigi had never once hesitated to pull her closer, to speak to her like she wasn’t something other.
Maybe, Cecilia thought, her porcelain fingers brushing a strand of hair from Gigi’s face, maybe I’ve been the one drawing the lines where they don’t need to be.
The words she’d once used to shield herself echoed faintly in her mind, but this time, they reshaped themselves, softened by a newfound acceptance.
The moon may long for the sun, and the sun may long for the moon. And though they are different, they are still drawn to one another.
Her chest felt tight, not in the way that made her want to push everything away, but in a way that felt full—too full, like her circuits were carrying more than they were meant to. And for once, Cecilia didn’t fight it.
“Maybe it’s okay,” she whispered, the words barely audible in the quiet room. Her gaze softened further as she watched Gigi shift slightly in her sleep, a faint smile tugging at her lips even in dreams.
“Maybe… it’s okay for the moon and the sun to love in their own way.”
For the first time, Cecilia didn’t feel like she was breaking some unspoken rule by holding Gigi close, didn’t feel the weight of what she wasn’t. Instead, she let herself exist in this moment, in the warmth of Gigi’s presence, and let her walls fall.
She pressed a gentle kiss to Gigi’s forehead, the action no longer hesitant, no longer unsure. “I’ll stay,” she whispered, more to herself than to the sleeping woman. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”
And in that quiet moment, Cecilia finally let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, their differences didn’t divide them—they made them whole.
~ The Morning ~
Warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting the room in a soft glow. Gigi stirred, her brow furrowing as her senses returned to her one by one. She was warm, unusually so, and something firm yet oddly comforting was beneath her cheek.
Blinking slowly, she opened her eyes and found herself face-to-face with Cecilia’s chest. For a moment, Gigi didn’t move, her mind hazy as she tried to process the sight. Then, like a tidal wave, bits and pieces of the previous night crashed into her memory.
The karaoke, the drunken rambling, clinging to Ceci, and—oh gods—the forehead kiss.
Her face flushed, heat rushing to her cheeks as she buried her head back against Cecilia, squeezing her eyes shut. “Oh no,” she muttered into the fabric of Cecilia’s shirt, her voice muffled and tinged with embarrassment. “What did I say last night?”
Cecilia’s voice, soft and calm, cut through the quiet. “You said a lot of things,” she said simply, her tone betraying a hint of amusement.
Gigi froze, her mind racing. “Oh no,” she said again, quieter this time. She peeked up at Cecilia’s face, her expression sheepish. “Was it bad?”
Cecilia met her gaze with a steady, unreadable expression. “Depends on your definition of bad,” she replied, but the corners of her lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to worry, Gigi. It’s… fine.”
Gigi hesitated, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. But Cecilia’s calm, steady presence eased the tension in her chest, and she let out a soft sigh, resting her head back down against her.
“Okay,” Gigi murmured, closing her eyes again. She decided she wasn’t ready to face the day—or her feelings—just yet. For now, the warmth of Cecilia beside her was enough.
And Cecilia, for her part, didn’t move. She simply lay there, her hand resting lightly against Gigi’s back, content to let her stay a little longer.