dottielint fluff
“Hey.”
Janet shifted from her position atop her partner, still breathing heavy, and lowered herself next to her. She could still feel the static sparking along her skin, sparking at anything new she touched, as she moved her hand from Dottie’s sweat-covered skin to the black fitted sheet beneath them. All at once, she felt sore, and she knew she couldn’t have held herself up any longer even if she wanted to.
Dottie ran a hand through her hair before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “That was perfect,” she murmured, nestling against her neck.
It all still felt a little too much for her.
Janet forced herself to stay where she was, despite wanting, more than anything, to separate herself from the woman next to her. It’d taken too long to get to the point of consistently sharing a bed, and she wasn’t going to kick her out now. Even if she did understand. Even if she was patient. She wasn’t patient with herself.
Dottie ran a hand through Janet’s hair again, grinning. “I love your hair like this.”
“I hate it.”
Janet didn’t even have to look to know that every strand was standing straight on edge, like when a normal person touched one of those static glass balls at magic houses or when they were on a mountaintop and about to be struck by lightning. (In the former circumstance, they would be fine, but in the latter, they best run. Most people didn’t survive getting struck by lightning. Most people weren’t her.)
Dottie’s hair, despite the electricity that had surged through her, still seemed almost immaculate. Of course, it was mussed – not as much as Janet’s would be, if she were normal, because Dottie had a penchant for pulling hair that Janet didn’t have (why cause pain that way when everything she needed was at her fingertips, pulsed under and along her skin, and sent it where she wanted it when she wanted it) – but it wasn’t standing on end. Even the strands that were seemed to be losing their strength as the seconds ticked by, and soon they’d lay just as flat as the rest of it did.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” Janet curled up on one side and stared Dottie straight in her bright blue eyes. She didn’t do that very often – couldn’t until she found the ways they were so drastically different from Rose’s – the lighter, brighter shades in comparison to the darker gray-blue of Rose’s. But finding those had taken far too long. So much about Dottie had once looked almost identical to the woman she had once loved and who had never loved her – her hair had been the most drastic difference, blonde where Rose’s had been red; and of course, she’d been thinner, sharper, leaner. But look at her eyes without looking into them, and it was all Rose.
Except that it wasn’t.
“You’re right. I don’t.” Dottie grinned, one sharp canine poking out over her lip. “You don’t hate me either.”
“Sometimes I do,” Janet growled, and her eyes shifted away from Dottie’s. Outside, she could see the thunderclouds gathering overhead. She was sure a few of the people outside had enjoyed the display – the lightning flickering across the sky. At least they hadn’t caused an outage this time.
This time.
Dottie ran a finger along the sweat slick along Janet’s cheek and then pressed a kiss just there. “But not right now.”
Janet could feel the shock before it happened, knew that it didn’t hurt Dottie one bit. She turned so that their lips could almost meet.
“Not right now.”