I spy with my little tired eye
Tiny as a firefly
An earring that we picked up last July
Down deep inside your pocket
We almost forgot it
Does it ever miss Leviathan sometimes?
Ayda looked at the little cuff earring. When it was not buried in her pocket, with a protection charm wrapped around it, it was placed in its spot of honor on her desk. A sea shell that Grathy had given her in a past life when they traveled to the shore.
Garthy rarely left the golden gardens, but they had told her stories of when his mother (or rather when she was his mother) used to teleport them to the seaside. They had picked up a shell there that past her had kept. After they had told Ayda of the trip, when she was 13 years old, she had done all she could to learn the teleport spell. She brought them back there a year later. It was thank you for all the kindness they had offered her. Ayda knew it was not how it should be done. They had considered her their mom. She had raised them. In return, when her past self had died, they had been left to raise her. That was not how it was supposed to work. Even though they had assured her, it was not a burden. Even though none of her past incarnations had ever been raised by anything more than her notes and the charity of others, Ayda carried that guilt. She would learn any spell Garthy needed. She would create spells to move the heavens and the earth if they needed. And the shell would remain one of her most precious treasures. The only thing worthy of holding her paramour’s earring.
It was not the earring that held value. Ayda knew this. It was the action of giving it that held the object in such high esteem. Fig had given it to her as a token of affection, of returned affection. It still warmed Ayda’s heart in a way she had not found the word to express. It was the same affection she was flooded with when she saw Fig’s Leviathan Library card tucked behind her ear. Or, more recently, the same feeling that took her over when Fig wore anything of Ayda’s. It was a peculiar habit she had noticed of her Paramore, that Ayda’s closet had suddenly become smaller as Fig claimed more and more of her things. She had not mentioned it because she truly did not mind. Fig wearing her shirt was perhaps the most attractive thing she had ever seen. Or at least it was until Fig did something else. It was a curious conundrum Ayda had found herself in. Everything Fig did was hotter than the last thing, and Ayda had felt the emotion threatening to cause her to bust into flames, and yet, she had not.
Even now, thinking of it caused Ayda’s cheeks to warm and her hair to flare a little more wildly. She looked towards the door and wondered if it would be too soon to go. If it would be an inconvenience to greet Fig after she returned home from school. She knew she would be arriving at the manor any moment. It was Friday. Not Wednesday, when Fig had therapy. Fig had asked Ayda if she would come for dinner and hang out afterward. Fig was often quiet and more reserved on these nights, and Ayda felt comfortable after the routine was built that she would meet Fig at Mordrid manor. On Tuesday or Thursday, Fig had band practice, which meant that it wasn’t until later that Fig would come to join Ayda in Leviathan, unless she had invited Ayda to watch practice, which only happened when Fig had a new song to show her.
On Mondays, Ayda had a study group with Adiane. This had started a few months after her father had created the doorway in Ayda’s library. It began as a result of a disagreement. Adaine and Fig had gotten into a fight, which still made Ayda uncomfortable to think about. Both had assured her that she had not done anything wrong even though she seemed to be the center point of the disagreement.
“You never let us hang out alone!” Adaine had snapped at Fig
“Well, she’s my girlfriend. I want to spend time with her.” Fig demanded back, pulling Ayda towards her.
Ayda tried to interject, “I do not like -”
“She’s my friend! I would like to spend time with her as well.” Adiane had pulled Ayda’s other arm, so her body weight moved towards Adaine.
“So spend time with the both of us. I’m your friend too.” Fig shouted and pulled once more.
“I’m tired of being a third wheel. I want to see my friend without you having to be there.” Adaine grew angrier as well.
It was Sandralynn who broke them up, as all three girls cried in confusion and frustration. She had pointed out to Fig that she tended to monopolize Ayda’s time. Fig did not like that. She cried and yelled but eventually settled. Ayda wanted to assure Fig that she didn’t mind having her time monopolized. However, she saw how upset Adaine was. So study group started on Mondays, where Adaine would join Ayda in the library and their study session we sometimes successful and other times, simply connecting with Adaine about the madness of life was enough.
Fridays were chaos. No Friday seemed ever to be the same. Some were Game Nights at the manor, where Ayda was invited to participate. Some were spent at the Black Pit or somewhere else in the country of Solace seeing a show with Fig. In which case Ayda would teleport with Adiane and others in the evening. Sometimes the Bad Kids all entered through the door to explore Leviathan and enjoy the wonders of the Gold Garden. It made Ayda anxious, never knowing if she should meet Fig or just continue to sit and wait.
She looked at the earring and reached her hand out for it, convincing herself that perhaps she ought to go wait for Fig. the cufflink slipped into her pocket just as the closet doors opened, and there was Fig, school bad still wrapped around her shoulders, wearing Ayda’s blouse. Warmth spread through her again. She wanted to kiss her. Instead, she opened her mouth to greet her, but Fig seemed to have felt the same as Ayda, and instead of letting the words fall, Fig wrapped her arms around Ayda and kissed her.
Ayda knew there was nothing better than this.
They said the end is coming
Everyone's up to something
I find myself running home to your sweet nothing
Outside, they're push and shoving
You're in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
On the way home
I wrote a poem
You say, "What a mind"
This happens all the time
Ayda was trying to explain the theory behind extraplanar travel. While plane shift was great, it wasn’t the same as opening a portal. The spell Gate had many more practical uses and would allow her to create a portal for Fig to visit her father’s realm in hell. While it wasn’t necessary since Fig would not be taking on Arch Devil responsibilities anytime soon, it would be convenient for any issue.
Fig looked at her with a smile on her face. There was something unreadable to Ayda, and she was tempted to apologize for getting overly excited. “What is that look?” She asked, knowing the Fig enjoyed explaining things that Ayda didn’t understand, like facial expressions and body language.
“Amazement,” Fig said honestly, and Ayda had to look away. Her palms suddenly felt sweaty.
“Why are you looking at me with amazement?” Ayda asked, her brow furrowing. She had not done anything truly deserving of such adoration, especially because she had assumed that Fig had stopped understanding the concepts she was explaining more than five minutes prior.
Fig couldn’t suppress a smile. It broke out all over her face. Ayda loved that smile. She loved it so much that she wanted to be wrapped around it. “I just keep thinking… What a mind.” Fig wrapped her arms around Ayda’s neck and slid onto her lap, disturbing the notes that had been meticulously placed. Ayda didn’t mind. “This brain of yours, the way you look at the world. It’s so cool.”
“You’re so cool.” The words slipped from Ayda’s lips. Whenever Fig was this close, her brain seemed to forget the vast vocabulary she possessed. It often meant she repeated words Fig said to her.
“I know,” Fig said with a smile that Ayda could tell, having studied Fig’s smiles closely, was mostly bravado. And then her lips found their place on Ayda’s. Ayda couldn’t help but have her hands trail up Fig’s side and secure them around her hips as she returned the kiss enthusiastically.
'Cause they said the end is coming
Everyone's up to something
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings
Outside, they're push and shoving
You're in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was nothing
There were so many things that Ayda found addictive about Fig. Kissing her was higher than most other things on the list. Mostly because Fig’s mouth tasted like mint and moved in a way that was its own form of chronomancy, it was tempting to fall into them, to get carried away and only return to thought hours later, skewed clothing, wild hair out of place, bruised lips, skin feverish. There was one particularly fond memory of discovering a handprint Scorched into the door of Fig’s bedroom door after they had been caught up in kissing against it. She had planned to apologize, but they were lost in another round of enthusiastic kissing.
She let herself get lost in Fig for as long as she allowed. Moments later, with heavy breathing and Fig’s hair looking as if it were windblown, they paused. Ayda searched for words to distract her from falling into kissing her again. The soft fabric of the shirt proved a good enough distraction. “I’m going to need to purchase new shirts.” She said, her own volume seeming out of place with the panting and close proximity.
Fig raised an eyebrow. “Are we going on a shopping trip?” She asked excitedly, and something in her eye looked excited. Ayda would have to ask her why.
“That was not my intention.” Ayda expressed but quickly backtracked. “But we can if that would be something you would like.”
“Is that something you would like?” Fig asked with the same tone she had when she often challenged Ayda to express her wants. Ayda hated it. It seemed like a challenge. She loved how much it made her want to kiss her. She would have to restrain. This was a conversation.
“It was not my intention when I spoke about needing new shirts.” Ayda tried to explain simply, tried not to think about shopping with Fig. She had very little experience in shopping with a girlfriend, and she would need to ask Adaine what shopping with another person looked like.
“What were you trying to say?” Fig asked curiously, positioning herself on Ayda’s lap, so she was closer, their height difference still obvious as Fig still had to look up at her.
“I was simply informing you, as you keep taking my shirts, that I will need to purchase new ones.”
Fig suddenly looked shy, and nervous in a way that Fig only was when there was something vulnerable to discuss. “Do you… I can stop doing it and return all of your shirts if you would like.”
Ayda felt her eyes widen. That was not her intention at all. She would be very displeased if Fig returned all of her shirts or stopped wearing them completely. She had to rectify her words. She looked down at the shirt Fig wore. “I would not like that.”
“Oh?”
The silence was tense. Something filled it. Fig was waiting for Ayda to expand on her comment. Her face felt flush. She had not yet told Fig how it warmed her and filled her with something possessive to see her in her blouses. “I like you wearing them.” She admitted into the space of silence. She found it hard to make eye contact with Fig at that moment. Her gaze focused instead above her shoulder.
The anxiety rose as Fig did not respond again, and Ayda was scared that she had said the wrong thing. Panic rose as she scrambled to find the words. Was that weird? Was it odd to want to see your paramour in your clothing? It must be. Fig’s voice silenced the spinning thought. “Are you sure?” She asked, her tone lower, and Ayda’s eyes flicked to her face, curiosity something she was never able to deny. “Because I could return this one to you.” Fig’s hand was fidgeting with the bottom of the shirt. “Right now?”
Ayda looked at her, confused, trying to understand what was happening. What she was missing, Fig’s face was not upset. It was not frustrating, it was challenging and daring. Like with their second kiss when she had told Ayda to try again. “Right now?” What good would that do? Fig did not have another shirt. She would have to borrow another of Ayda’s or simple go with - Oh. The realization seemed to hit Ayda beside the head, stunned as she considered the situation.
They had never done that yet. Remove clothing. It would be… Ayda felt something even more possessive and full of want rising in her as she looked at Fig’s beautiful brown eyes. “Yes. Right now. That would be optimal.”
Fig’s face relaxed ever so slightly, reassured by Ayda’s want. And she pulled the shirt above her head, and Ayda did not give the shirt time to fall to the floor before she kissed Fig once more.
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors
And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other
And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"
To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
Ayda hadn’t remembered a time when she had truly felt safe. Where she was not prepared, at any moment, to show force and protect herself and the library from whatever threatened to harm it. Sometimes she dwelled on the memories of the nightmare forest. The visions of her past selves, the other Ayda’s with their demands, their lessons and expectations, and the constant reminder that she was failing and disappointing them. That they doubted her ability to succeed and demanded that she do more. That it was not about living the life she had but surviving for the future. To make the next time easier, to ensure success, just as all her past lives had done for her.
So much of her life was about surviving. Garthy had taken care of her and had shown her kindness. But since the time she had been able to read and understand what it is her life was, Ayda had pushed forward to pursue a better life for the next ideation of herself. She often fell short, and that was when the voices implored that she should be doing more. That she ought to be greater and more powerful than she was.
It wasn’t until Fig came along, with softness and the stillness of early morning light, with the reassurance that the world and life were not about what was next but simply about what is here. It was times like these, holding her in the candlelight of Leviathan as Fig spoke about something with such frivolity and wonder that Ayda felt soft. That she was able to unravel the worry and panic of survival and just live.
She had not found the words on how to tell Fig this yet. How to highlight this, one of the many gifts her Paramore had given her simply by existing. But she felt safe enough to show her. To tangle their arms and legs together and exist side by side. To let the ever-present movement forward go and to enjoy a moment in the softness of life.
“I love you,” She said, interrupting Fig’s excitement. She knew it was not polite, but it was imperative to tell her at that moment. Ayda needed Fig to know. This was not unusual. There were many times Ayda needed to tell Fig her feelings for her. “Around you, all the voices and history fade and I will cherish that until every star in our galaxy is consumed into the vastness of space. I do not know what debt I owe the universe and you to have been made worthy. I love you, and I do not know a future without you in it.”
There was a pause before Fig’s smile burst as bright as the sun. “You owe the universe nothing,” Fig said, moving to hold Ayda’s jaw between her hands. Fig’s brown eyes stared deeply into hers. Ayda was breathless. “I want you, Ayda, nothing else.”
They said the end is coming
Everyone's up to something
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings
Outside, they're push and shoving
You're in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
They said the end is coming (they said the end is coming)
Everyone's up to something (everyone's up to something)
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings
Outside, they're push and shoving (outside, they're push and shoving)
You're in the kitchen humming (you're in the kitchen humming)
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing