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Chapter Text

Blake woke up to the soft melody of her phone alarm. She groaned softly and turned on her side to look at the clock.

6:30 am.

Blake dismissed the alarm and yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Padding barefoot to the kitchen in her dark grey tank top and sweats, she set the kettle on the stove for her morning tea and turned on the espresso machine, listening to it hiss and whir as it brewed the premeasured grounds she had tamped the night before.

In college, she used to just drink tea in the morning but now that she was twenty-six, she found she needed the extra kick of caffeine in the form of espresso to get going. She ran her fingers affectionately over the spines of the books on her shelf as she waited. Old friends, she thought with a fond smile,

Blake swallowed her shot of espresso and sipped her tea in front of the window above the sink, watching the sun light up the tops of the buildings in her neighborhood. She lived on the twelfth floor of an apartment in the second arrondissement. It had a great view of Paris’s downtown core and was walking distance to the Seine and the Louvre. The 2000 euro a month rent was a bit steep for her tastes, but her salary as an assistant editor at the Le Monde newspaper covered it handily.

She took a shower and brushed out her wavy black locks as she dried her hair with the blow-dryer. After applying some eyeliner and a touch of red lipstick, Blake was now ready for the day. She put on a clean, crisp, white button-up shirt and black slacks and black pointed kitten heels.

Her cat Midnight, now awake, brushed affectionately up against her legs as she grabbed her keys and briefcase off the hook.

“Be good, Midnight,” Blake said, scratching the black feline behind her ears. The cat mewled happily in response, bounding over to the kitchen and taking its perch on the windowsill against the glass.

It was a warm summer morning. Blake’s heels click-clacked on the pavement as she made her way toward the metro entrance. The local bistro down the block had just opened, and there was a line already forming at the bakery at the corner. The air was filled with the smell of dark roasted coffee and freshly baked baguettes. It was these mornings that reminded Blake that she had made the right decision to move back to her birthplace after college.

Blake took the metro on the southward line to get to her work in the thirteenth arrondissement. She stood in the train car, hanging onto the strap handle and staring ahead in an effort to avoid eye contact and small talk with the other riders.

After a short walk from the metro station, she finally made it to the tall, expansive building with the mural of birds, continents and newsprint painted on the glass panel exterior; the office of Le Monde. She took the elevator to the top floor and walked it into her office, booting up her desktop computer and checking her meeting schedule for the day on her Outlook calendar.

“Hey, Ms. Belladonna?”

Blake looked up to see Sun Wukong, a staff writer they had hired a month ago. He ran a hand through his spiky blonde hair, looking hopeful and nervous as he stood in the doorway of her office.

“It’s Blake,” she said, glaring at him with her golden eyes. Ms. Belladonna sounded like her mother.

“Hey, Blake, would you mind taking a look at this article I’m working on?” Sun asked, handing her a printed piece of paper.

Blake sighed and got out her red pen from her drawer. She flipped on her reading glasses and started adding commas and bracketed notes as she read his writing.

Hmm… Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy.

“You’re going to have to revise this whole paragraph,” she said, drawing a star on the second last section. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say here.”

“Oh… Okay! Will do!”

Blake looked back to her computer screen but then turned back to Sun when she realized he was still standing there.

“Yes? Is there something else you need?”

“Are you going to that luncheon thing on Saturday?”

“Regretfully, yes.” Spending an afternoon at a company event, schmoozing with corporate investors was the last thing Blake wanted to do on a Saturday, but her boss made it explicitly clear that her presence was required.

“Did you want to, maybe, go together?”

Blake arched a dark eyebrow. Surely he wasn’t seriously asking her out.

“I don’t think that would be appropriate, Sun.”

“Oh, right, right, right. I guess you’re like my boss and all...”

“I have a meeting I need to prepare for.”

“Okay! See you later Ms. Bella- I mean Blake,” Sun said, making a quick exit.

The raven-haired woman exhaled a sigh of relief when he was gone. That was awkward.

Saturday.

Blake gazed out the window of the Transilien train as it left from Gare de Lyon station, watching the scenery change from tightly packed buildings to the greens of the grassy hills along the track. She had to do no less than three metro transfers to get to the station. It was almost not worth the effort.

At least the event was at Chateau de Fontainebleau, she thought. Blake hadn’t been there since she was a child with her parents and she was looking forward to seeing it again after so long. Perhaps the afternoon would be tolerable just because of that.

The train called the stop for Fontainebleau-Avon and Blake got off at the station, making her way outside to catch the bus to the Chateau. She fiddled with the knee length skirt of her black sundress. The dress had a bateau neckline with a sheer lace floral pattern on the upper part of the chest and tops of the shoulders. It was made from a lightweight jersey material, and Blake was glad for it when she entered the stifling hot interior of the bus.

A short fifteen minute bus ride later, Blake finally arrived at the destination; Chateau de Fontainebleau. It was as beautiful as she remembered, the expansive architecture elegant and opulent, beige coloured bricks of the exterior glowing gold in the sunlight. A place truly built for kings.

Round, white table-clothed tables were already set up in the courtyard as Blake made her way down the stone steps. The event was well underway. Servers offered champagne, canapés and hors d’oeuvres on sterling silver trays to people conversing in small groups scattered across the cobblestone pathways, silhouettes stark against the manicured cones of trees.

Blake took an offered flute of champagne off a server’s tray and immediately set off to find her boss so she could say hello. There, I fulfilled my duty by showing up, she thought, as she talked to the middle-aged man about the weather and how lucky they were that it didn’t rain.

Eventually Blake made her way to the side to sip her drink in peace. She also saw Sun at the party. He waved at her from across the pathway and she waved back but chose not to go talk to him after yesterday’s awkwardness. Best not to lead him on, a voice said in her head. Blake sighed and waited for the call for them to be seated and lunch to be served.

At lunch, Blake smiled politely and made small talk with her fellow tablemates seated at her table. Although it was a nice day and the food was great, she longed for the solitude of her apartment. It wasn’t that she didn’t like people, on the contrary, she did, just… Small doses. Blake couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of relief she would get when she got home.

Finally, the speeches and the meal were over. Blake thought about making a quick exit but something about the path leading into the surrounding Forest de Fontainebleau caught her interest. It had been years since she had last walked through it. The last time was a weekend hike with her parents when she was seven years old.

It’s still early with plenty of daylight left, Blake thought idly as she started walking on the path, inexplicably drawn to the awning treeline with their branches full of green summer growth.

The music of the hired band became faint as the cobblestones eventually gave way to a hard packed dirt path. The air felt heavy, a light mist seemed to obscure the trees in the distance. With the sunlight beaming through the leaves, occasionally darkening from clouds passing over head, it was like Blake was transported to a different world like the Chronicles of Narnia, the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Not real life, but a baroque painting with deep shadows and rich muted colours. It was gorgeous and Blake somehow felt lighter and heavier at the same time from just being there. She continued to walk. As she rounding the bend, she saw a flash of golden blonde hair through the branches. Blake stopped mid-step and took a moment to look closer.

It was a young woman standing on a small side path in the midst of the trees, snapping pictures with her camera pointed towards the sky. There was something about that particular shade of blonde, like spun gold, cascading down her back in long flowing waves that was so familiar…

Blake’s heart began to pound.

No it couldn’t be…

She followed her silently, taking in every movement. The woman moved with the grace and beauty of an ethereal dream. Blake hadn’t seen her eyes yet, still obscured as she focused her gaze through the view scope of her camera. She spied a trace of a tattoo on her tanned muscled bicep, golden scales, peeking out the rolled up sleeves of her white button-up shirt.

It had to be her. The same blonde hair. The same dragon tattoo.

Finally the woman put the camera down, letting it hang around her neck, and Blake saw the colour of her eyes; lavender and lilac.

“Good,” the blonde said quietly to herself.

She put her hands on her hips and stretched out her back, forming a gentle arch with the curve of her spine. When she turned around, she was met with piercing golden eyes, wide with disbelief.

“Yang?”

Chapter Text

It was night time when Blake was walking on the campus path, on her way to the east side dorms where a fall mixer party was happening. She had debated on whether to go or not, in the end deciding it was better than brooding alone in her dorm room. She was about to turn the corner when she heard a sound that made her skin crawl.

“Blake,” a low, gravelly voice said.

Blake spun around. He was standing behind her in black jeans and a black suit jacket with a single rose in his hand. Red hair and blue eyes blazed under the campus street light. She used to find that attractive about him, the intensity of his eyes, but now they just made her feel uneasy. How did he know she was going to be there? Was he following her?

“Adam? What are you doing here? I told you… It’s over.”

They broke up weeks ago, Blake didn’t love him, she never did. Regrets and bad decisions. Infatuation made her overlook things, the mean way he acted around her friends, the way he tried to control her. All of it, not good. She only wished she had realized the truth sooner.

“I heard what you said but I don’t believe you,” he said. “I know you know the truth. You belong to me.”

I don’t belong to anybody, Blake thought heatedly.

He took a step forward, she took a step back.

“What we had wasn’t healthy.” Possession. Obsession. “Let go of the past, Adam. Move on.”

“And throw away all the memories we had? No, Blake, I won’t let you go. Come back to me.”

“No.”

He lunged at her with surprising speed and grabbed her sleeve. The rose in his hand fell onto the ground, trampled underfoot. “Stop being difficult.”

“I said no! Don’t touch me!” Blake wrenched her arm away as hard as she could.

Suddenly a voice yelled out, “Hey! Leave her alone!”

A girl with long blonde hair, wearing a black leather jacket came from nowhere and punched him in the face with a hard right hook.  Adam fell over, knocked unconscious, sprawled out on the pavement.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. One shot. You’d better stay down if you know what’s good for you!”

Blake was shell shocked. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Blake took one last look at his twitching body and grabbed the girl’s left hand, pulling her along as she ran away, afraid he would get up again.

They ran for a few blocks, only stopping when he was completely out of sight.

Blake turned to the girl after taking a few labored breaths. “Are you crazy? What made you do that?”

“You looked like you needed help.”

“Your hand!”

The blonde’s right knuckles were bleeding, red rivulets of blood flowing down her wrist and dripping onto the ground.

She shrugged. “I guess I hit him harder than I thought.”

“Here.” Blake bade her to sit on the edge of a concrete raised bed of shrubs. She took off the purple silk scarf from her neck and wrapped her hand in it, tying it into a makeshift bandage with a bow.

“Thanks…”

They locked eyes for one long moment. Blake was finally able to get a good look at her. Bright, kind, violet eyes that seemed to sparkle in the dim light. A lopsided smile curling up at one edge. A wild mane of long, wavy blonde hair, flowing over broad muscled shoulders.

She looked to be about her age, wearing an orange T-shirt underneath the leather jacket, ripped skinny jeans and black Chuck Taylors on her feet. She was gorgeous in a rough-edged sort of way, the imperfections somehow making her more beautiful.

The girl was looking at her as well, staring into her golden eyes with a surprised expression on her face. She looked like she was about to say something but suddenly her phone pinged. She took it out of her pocket, eyes widening when she realized the time.

“Oh shit, I got to go. My little sister’s waiting for me. I’ll see you around okay?”

Before Blake could say anything else, the girl ran down the street to a parked yellow motorcycle. She got on the bike took off.

“Wait!” Blake yelled, watching the flash of blonde hair disappear in the increasing distance.

She looked forlornly at the ground. “What’s your name?” 

Blake leapt into her arms without thinking, clutching her tightly. She was the only thing holding her steady as the world spun and gave way beneath her. Real. Close. Close enough to smell her scent. It was the same as she remembered; feminine and clean with a hint of something sweet citrus.

“Yang…” she whispered into her neck.

“I thought…” Yang began slowly. “That if we ever met again… You would be happier to see me.”

She let go and looked up at her questioningly. “…What?”

Yang gently brushed away a tear from under her eye with the back of her index finger.

Blake scrubbed her eyes, quickly wiping away the tears she didn’t realize she was shedding. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I just finished an assignment in Tangier. I thought I’d hang out in Paris for a bit.”

Blake let out a long, shuddering breath. Now that they were at arm’s length, she took a few moments to look at her, to really look at her.

Her eyes were still that beautiful shade of lilac, a colour that had the contradictory effect of calming and exciting her at the same time. Skin that seemed to glow. Light freckles dotted the tops of her cheeks as if placed there by an artist’s brush, made more prominent from the light of the summer sun.

With the exception of some faint lines around her eyes from years of blinding, cheek-dimpling smiles, Yang looked exactly the same. The warmth and kindness emanating from the way she looked at her was almost too much for Blake to take. She felt a pressure rising, tightening around her chest.

“God, you look great,” Blake said.

“So do you.”

Blake bristled at the compliment, she was but a pale shadow compared to the shining sun. She looked down at the dress she was wearing. “Company event,” she explained.

“Oh, the Le Monde party?”

Blake nodded, lowering her gaze. She glanced at Yang’s left hand, a strange feeling of relief washing over her when she saw no rings present.

“How long are you in town for?”

“Til Sunday.”

For a moment they just looked at each other, the silence stretching between them. Blake couldn’t shake the feeling that Yang was holding herself back in some way, more reserved than she remembered.

“We should – we should do something this week. Let me show you around.”

Blake sensed the first bit of awkwardness in the conversation, a hesitation on Yang’s part.

“Are you sure? Don’t you have work?”

“I’ll take some days off,” Blake offered immediately. She hadn’t taken a vacation day in months. “Do you want to meet tomorrow?”

“I can’t. I have some dark room work to do…”

Blake’s heart fell.

Yang’s face softened apologetically. “I’m free Tuesday though. Do you want to meet then?”

“Yes, definitely,” Blake said, brightening up.  “Tuesday it is.”

They exchanged mobile phone numbers, Blake’s heart pounding in her throat as she typed her number in Yang’s phone.

“I’ll text you,” Yang said, placing the phone back in her pocket. She noticed Blake’s red cheeks and fast breath. “Are you okay, Blake? You look a little shook up.”

Blake’s eyes snapped up to meet Yang’s in surprise. That didn’t even describe the half of it.

“It’s just so good to see you. I can’t quite believe it…”

Yang smiled at her but Blake thought she saw a little touch of sadness in her eyes.

“It’s good to see you too.”

Chapter Text

Geology 206, the last elective Blake chose to take to fulfill the science requirement for her bachelor’s degree. She sat in the middle row of the large lecture hall, trying to stay awake for the 9:30 am class.

It had been two weeks since the incident with Adam and thankfully, Blake hadn’t seen him again. She hadn’t seen the blonde haired girl either to her disappointment, sad that she didn’t get a chance to properly thank her.

The professor was showing images of different types of moraines on the Powerpoint slides. She turned to get a pencil from her bag so she could sketch a few of them out and that’s when she saw her sitting in a seat, two rows behind her. The blonde haired girl was staring ahead at the lecture screen, chewing on the end of her pencil.

Blake stared at her for few moments until finally she glanced down and saw her. Her face broke into a wide grin and she waved. Blake waved back shyly and turned back to listen to the rest of the lecture.

After the class was over, Blake waited for her at the end of the row of seats.

“Hey,” Blake said.

“Hey…?”

The girl was standing in front her with a backpack slung over her shoulder, holding her textbook in her left hand. She was wearing a grey v-neck shirt which allowed Blake to see her toned arms and a golden tattoo sticking out slightly from her shirt sleeve.

“Blake. Blake Belladonna.”

“I’m Yang. Yang Xiao Long,” she said sticking out her hand.

Blake took her hand, looking down as her thumb brushed over rough lines of healed over skin on her knuckles. She felt a pang of guilt but Yang didn’t seem to notice, her beaming smile in place as she kept her gaze solely on her.

“Oh,” Yang said, remembering. She reached into her backpack and retrieved Blake’s scarf. “Here, I washed it.”

Their fingers brushed as she handed her the scarf and Blake’s skin tingled. She smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Yang said, looking slightly sheepish. “I was hoping I’d run into you again so I could return it… Sorry I had to bail so fast that night. I should have stayed and made sure you were okay.”

“Don’t be sorry, you did quite enough.” More than other people would do. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

“Your welcome…” Yang said awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Hey, so where are you off to now?”

“The Arts building. I have a class there in ten minutes.”

“I’m heading that way too! Want to walk together?”

“Sure.”

They made their way up the steps out of the lecture hall and outside on the path that cut across the Quad. It was a sunny day, the grass was wet with dew and there was just a slight chill from the crisp autumn air.

“So… What happened with that guy? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Blake smirked. “Restraining order,” she said simply. “But he hasn’t bothered me since that night. I think you might have scared him off.”

Yang looked absolutely delighted by the thought, smiling happily to herself.

“Do you always come to the rescue of girls in distress?”

“Only the pretty ones,” Yang replied easily.

Blake paused to look at her, a blush forming on the tops of her cheeks.

“I’m just kidding,” Yang laughed. “What’s your major?”

“English. I’d like to get into the school of journalism if I can.”

“Well Berkely is one the best schools for that. I was thinking of applying too, after I get my arts degree. I love photography. Being a photojournalist is like my dream.”

Blake smiled, feeling oddly happy that they could possibly be on the same education line.

Suddenly a voice called out, “Yang!”  A petite girl with sunglasses and a black beret waved at her as she stood beside another girl with long brown hair.

“Those are my friends, Coco and Velvet.”

“Oh, okay,” Blake said.

“Hey, so did you want to hang out again sometime?”

Blake straightened her shoulders. “I’d like that.”

Yang scribbled her number on a piece of paper and gave it to her.

“Text me,” she said with a wink.

Yang walked towards her friends and threw her arms around the both of them, trudging off as a unit of three across the Quad. She looked back and gave Blake one last smile.

As she was walking, Blake saw a colourful rainbow LGBTQ flag button pinned on the flap of her back pack. A thousand different thoughts fired off in her head all at once.

They decided to meet for a walk along the river Seine. She had suggested the Louvre but Yang said she didn’t want to wait in line with the tourists. Blake sat on a bench on the bridge Pont d’ Arcole near the Cathedral of Notre-Dame, scanning the streets for any signs of the blonde woman.

She was late. Blake tried to suppress the anxiety that she felt. They had talked briefly on the phone, and again she sensed that same hesitation from Yang, like she didn’t really want to see her again. Blake pushed the crushing thought away. She said she would come, Yang always kept her word.

Finally, as if on cue, Yang stepped out from the corner and began walking toward the bridge.

Blake let out a sigh of relief and waved at her, trying to not look too eager.

“Sorry I’m late. The taxi driver didn’t quite understand what I was saying.”

Yang was dressed casually for the day in a dark blue T-shirt, tight jeans, and sneakers. How she made a simple T-shirt look so good was a mystery to Blake. Her aviator sunglasses hung low in the V-neck of her shirt, drawing her eye to her cleavage and the soft skin of her chest.

“It’s okay,” Blake said. She smiled and handed Yang a paper Starbucks coffee cup. “Two creams, two sugars.”

Yang’s eyes widened as she took the cup, the tips of their fingers brushing. “You remembered?”

“Of course. You’re the only person I know who likes their coffee that sweet.”

Yang chuckled sheepishly, keeping her eyes on Blake as she took a sip of her warm coffee. “So, which way should we go?”

“Let’s go this way,” Blake said, turning west with the Cathedral behind them.

They started walking on the cobblestone path along the river. Blake took a sip of her own coffee. Black, like my soul, she thought dryly.

Yang glanced over at Blake, taking another sip of coffee. The dark-haired woman was wearing loose white blouse, un-tucked over dark blue jeans and black flats.

“What?” Blake asked, catching her gaze.

“It’s just kind of surreal seeing you again… God, how long has it been?”

“Five years,” Blake answered.

“Five years…” Yang mused airily. “So you’re what, twenty-five now?”

“Twenty-six.”

Blake was five months older than Yang.

“Wow, time sure does fly…”

The river was flowing slowly, greyish blue-green ripples with white sheens against the pale sky.

“How have you been?” Yang asked.

“Good,” Blake said quietly. “I finished my journalism degree and started working here… And you?”

“Pretty good…” Yang said after a pause. “I spent some time working in the Middle East.”

“Where?”

“Syria.”

Blake looked at her carefully and tried not to think about how dangerous that was. “How’s Ruby?” she asked, changing the subject.

Yang smiled to herself. “She’s good. Heh, my baby sister’s all grown up now. She finished her engineering degree and is working for firm now.” She looked at Blake. “How are your parents?”

“They’re good. Dad’s thinking about retiring from council and Mom’s still working at City Hall.”

They passed the bridge Pont au Change, walking in silence for a few moments as they sipped their coffee. Their arms swayed in tandem, hands almost close enough to touch. Five years ago it would have been a non-issue to hold hands but now, so much had changed that they might as well have been miles apart.

“So… Why Paris?” Yang asked, looking at the water.

“I was born here,” Blake said. “My parents moved to the states when I was seven but I still have a dual citizenship.”

“I didn’t know that…”

Blake smiled kindly at her. Why would she? A whirlwind of a relationship, like a blur, too fast to catch every single detail. She never particularly liked talking about herself, it was a defense mechanism, she supposed. Blake wondered how many times she hid back then, how much of herself she still kept hidden even now.

“I just felt like I needed a change…” Blake said. A fresh start after everything… she thought.

“And you chose the City of Lights... You’re one of the youngest assistant editors in Le Monde’s history, am I right? That’s a real accomplishment Blake, you should be proud of yourself.”

Blake shrugged. “Hard work pays off, I guess...”

“There you go being too modest again,” Yang said with a chuckle. She paused. “I tried looking you up in San Francisco a couple years ago, but I guess you had already moved.”

“You - you did?”

Yang nodded solemnly. Blake was surprised. She didn’t think Yang would ever seek her out again purposely after…

An apology was on the tip of Blake’s tongue but she wouldn’t let herself say it. It was in the past, it’s over now, she told herself stringently with her jaw set.

They continued walking, the empty coffee cups long deposited in the waste bin. They walked to the middle of the passerelle Léopold-Sédar-Senghor bridge between the opulent buildings of the Museum d’Orsay and the tall green trees bordering the Tuileries Gardens.

Yang put her elbows on the broad, weathered, wooden beam, looking back from where they had walked from. “It’s beautiful here…” she murmured.

Blake demurely agreed. “Yes... It is,” she said, looking right at the blonde, watching how the light caught the glint of her hair as it framed the soft skin of her cheekbones.

“I wish I had my camera.” Yang turned to her with a soft smile. She glanced at her watch. “I’d better get going. I have to do some editing on my photos before submission to the magazine.”

So soon? Blake thought. It had only been a half hour since they had started out.

“It was nice catching up and seeing you again—“

No, Blake didn’t part ways with this excruciating conversation like polite strangers. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” she blurted out suddenly.

Yang looked at her in surprise.

“I know a great place downtown. I promise it will be good.”

“Uh…” Yang rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding Blake’s intense gaze. She took a deep breath before answering. “Can it be a fairly late dinner?”

“Yes, anytime works.”

“Alright…”

“Sounds great.” Blake’s heart leapt at the prospect of seeing her again. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” Yang said simply, putting her sunglasses on. She gave Blake a short wave and smile before she turned to leave. “See you...”

Chapter Text

“So why haven’t you made a move on me?” Blake asked, casually straddling Yang on the lap as the blonde sat on the couch.

It was Yang’s little sister Ruby’s birthday party. Yang had invited Blake and several other people from school to their apartment to celebrate. All night she had been teasing her, flirting with her. It had been more of the same that she had been experiencing for the last few weeks.

They hung out all the time. They touched all the time. There was no shortage of contact, an arm slung around her shoulders as they walked to class, hugs goodbye, and even kisses on the cheek. Blake wasn’t sure what was happening between them. Were they just friends?

Yang had a reputation… For dating the hottest girls around campus. The people she talked to said Yang dated around a lot, though Blake saw no evidence for this in their time together. There was one thing she knew for sure; she was extremely attracted to Yang and this closeness, and yet this distinct lack of closeness in other ways, was driving her fucking crazy.

Yang raised her eyebrows and stared up at raven-haired girl. “You’re drunk,” she asserted.

Okay, so she had quite a few drinks earlier in the night to gain the liquid courage to do this. “Answer the question,” Blake shot back.

“How about you have a seat? Right here?” Yang said, patting the space beside her.

“No,” Blake said, shaking her head and rocking her hips inadvertently.

“I think you need some water,” Yang stammered with her cheeks heating up and a line of sweat forming along the edge of her bangs.

“Not until you tell me what we are,” Blake insisted. Then the question she was truly nervous to hear the answer to. “Don’t you like me?”

Yang sighed and stood up with Blake still perched around her lap.

“W-what are you doing!” Blake sputtered as she instinctively threw her arms around Yang’s neck to avoid falling.

“You need to sleep it off,” Yang grunted, shifting Blake in her arms into a bridal carry as she walked over to her bedroom.

Blake was afraid she would just dump her unceremoniously on the mattress but Yang just laid her down gently on the bed, pulling the comforter over her.

Despite the room still spinning from her impromptu relocation, Blake quickly sat up and tried to yank the blonde down for a kiss. Yang bowed her head at the last moment, keeping her lips out of reach.

“Yang--”

“I do like you…” Yang said with her eyes closed, trying so hard to hold herself back, to stay in control. “I just don’t want to be another rebound…”

Blake froze, understanding flickering through the fog of her alcohol addled brain. She cradled Yang’s face in her hands, touching their foreheads together. “Yang… You mean so much more to me than that…”

Yang took a deep breath through her nose, steadying herself. “Get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Okay.” Blake relented and laid back down. “Join me...?” she asked teasingly, secretly hoping that Yang would.

“Haha, not a chance,” Yang laughed, standing up. “Sweet dreams, Blake.”

Blake cowered away from the bright morning light as it streamed through the curtains. Her head was pounding. She covered her eyes and groaned as the memories from the night before came to her like a slow replay.

“Yang…” she whispered, remembering what she did. She had made a complete fool of herself last night.

After delaying for as long as she could, Blake finally rolled out of bed and walked out of the room in the same clothes she had been wearing the night before.

Ruby was sitting at the kitchenette table, eating a bowl of cereal with the box in her hand, looking at the pictures and the nutrition information on the back of it.

“Morning Blake,” Ruby chirped.

“Mm,” Blake muttered non-committally. “Where’s Yang?” She needed to apologize.

At that moment, Yang bounded out of the bathroom with freshly dried hair, humming a cheery tune. She made a beeline to the coffee maker and poured out a mug of the dark brew, handing it to Blake.

The dark haired woman accepted it wordlessly, hung-over and still not thinking straight. Yang’s mug clinked as she stirred cream and sugar into her own coffee. She turned around and took a long sip while facing Blake, cocky smile in place.

“You know… The street fair’s in town. Would you like to go with me? Like a date?”

Blake blinked a few times, staring blankly at her face. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Yes, you jerk,” she said, slapping the blonde on the arm.

Yang just laughed.

“In-N-Out Burger?” Blake asked dubiously as Yang helped her dismount the bike.

Yang said she was going to take her out for dinner before the fair and she had been looking forward to it. She had even worn earrings.

“C’mon, it’s good!” the blonde said, smirking and waving her over.

Yang got the Double-Double Animal Style with fries and a chocolate shake. She ate her meal wolfishly while Blake took comparatively smaller bites of her plain hamburger.

“I don’t know how you can eat all that,” Blake said. She wondered how Yang stayed so fit with the amount of fast food she ate... Probably because she went to the gym every single day.

“Gotta feed the machine, muscle burns more calories than fat,” Yang said flexing her bicep.

Oh well, Blake appreciated the results.

After their fast food dinner, they strolled around Pier 39 at Fisherman’s Wharf, watching the various street performers and live music at the small bandstand. Yang took her hand when it started to get dark and Blake laced their fingers together, the both of them blushing a bit as they continued to walk around the fair.

“One elephant ear with vanilla ice cream, please,” Yang said to the vendor.

“Yang, no.” Blake was already pretty feeling full from the meal they had.

“C’mon Blake, we gotta have dessert!”

They took a seat at a picnic table and dug into the decadent fried dough confection with a pair of plastic forks. Blake was hesitant to put more grease into her body but found she no longer cared after the first bite. Soo good, she thought, totally worth it.

Blake was shook out of her thoughts as she watched with rapt attention as Yang licked an errant drop of melted vanilla ice cream that was rolling down her wrist. Yang smiled when she caught her watching and Blake looked away immediately, feeling a bit hot around her ears.

They did a little more walking around the fair after polishing off the elephant ear, passing by a few carnival game stands. Yang paused in front of a milk bottle game, looking thoughtfully at the prizes on display.

“Shall I win you an oversized stuffed animal my lady?”

Blake rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure those are rigged.”

“Hah, watch me,” Yang said shrugging off her black leather jacket with a wink. “Hold my jacket? You can wear it if you want, you look kind of cold.”

“You want me to wear your leather jacket?” Blake asked, sounding surprised. “Oh no, we’re not perpetuating that trope.”

“Suit yourself,” Yang said nonchalantly.

She walked up to the stand and hefted the softball in her hand after paying the fee. Yang had been wearing a white tank top under her jacket and ripped blue jeans. Blake could see even more tantalizing glimpses of the golden dragon tattoo that seemed to span the blonde’s back and wrap around her right arm.

It should be a crime to be that sexy, she thought distractedly as Yang wound up her body in a perfect pitcher’s stance.

Yang launched the ball at the center of the pyramid of bottles, using her entire body and following through with her arm fully extended. All three of the milk bottles clattered loudly to the floor. Blake could only watch in awe as Yang blew a quick breath over her knuckles with the most satisfied smirk on her face.

“2009 Softball Champions. Still got it.”

Later they stood, facing the bay and the twinkling lights of the bridge, Blake now wearing Yang’s jacket despite her initial misgivings (it was cold) and holding an enormous stuffed teddy bear in her arms. Yang slipped her arm around her shoulders, and Blake sighed, basking in the comfortable silence of the night.

Suddenly, the fireworks shot off. Blake huddled closer to Yang from the loud noise, watching the bright circle of white and violet sparks fade into the starlit sky. Colours of light flashed across her face as the next round shot off, more beautiful than the first. They watched with a child-like wonderment as the sound thundered through their chests, matching the fast beats of their hearts.

Yang turned to her and slowly ran a single fingertip along her jaw-line, gently tilting her chin up. Blake parted her lips in anticipation as Yang leaned in and pressed her mouth to hers, soft yet demanding, with a thinly veiled hunger that set Blake’s veins on fire.

Yang tasted like powdered sugar and vanilla. Oh, she could get used to this. Too soon though, the blonde pulled back, searching Blake’s eyes to make sure it was okay. It was more than okay. In fact, it wasn’t enough. It was Blake who leaned in first this time, kissing her slowly and deeply until they were both gasping for breath.

Yang’s lilac eyes twinkled as she gazed at Blake, smiling so broadly from the sheer force of joy that her cheeks hurt.

“You know, I think this is a start of something great.”

Blake wrapped her arms around Yang’s neck, teddy bear still in tow in their embrace. “I couldn’t agree more,” she said, tugging her close for another long kiss.

“Blake? Blaa-ake?”

“Hm?” Blake looked up to see Yang watching her carefully from across the table. “Oh, sorry… I guess I just spaced out for a bit.”

“What were you thinking about?”

Blake paused before answering. “I was remembering the first time we had dinner together… I can’t believe you took me to In-N-Out Burger.”

“It was good!” Yang defended.

Blake smirked to herself as the waiter came to take their entrée order.

“Are you ready, madame?” he asked Yang.

“Steak Diane,” Yang said, closing the menu and handing it to the waiter. She glanced up at Blake.

“Salmon en Papillote,” Blake said, catching Yang’s gaze and handing her own menu over.

“Very good, madames. It should be out right away.”

“I see you haven’t lost your penchant for red meat,” Blake said after the waiter left.

“And you for seafood,” Yang teased.

Blake hummed in acknowledgement and took a long sip of her Sauvignon Blanc, letting the dry white wine wash over her tongue.

The restaurant was fairly small inside but it had a charming atmosphere; white table cloths, candle light, with beautiful landscape paintings on the wall.

Yang seemed more relaxed than the previous day… Perhaps it was the wine. She surprised Blake by wearing a white flowy sundress with a scoop neckline, thin spaghetti straps and an embroidered flower design on the front.

Blake’s eyes were discreetly traveling across her décolletage when they were suddenly drawn to an imperfection on her upper chest, partially covered by the white strap of her dress.

“What happened here?” Blake asked, pointing at her own shoulder to inquire about the inch and a half, irregularly shaped scar that marred Yang’s skin.

Yang hesitated before speaking. “There was an IED by the side of the road as we passing through Homs. A piece of shrapnel came through the window of the truck… We were lucky no one was seriously hurt.”

“Oh Yang…” She wanted so badly to take Yang into her arms at that moment and make sure she was okay.

“I’m fine. Really. It was just a graze.”

Blake wondered about all the things she’d seen in their time apart, the dangers she experienced. Things she wasn’t there for. “Do you think you’ll go back to that? Covering warzones, I mean.”

“It is important,” Yang said with conviction. “It’s important to show a face, a picture of what’s happening… It’s too easy to ignore otherwise.”

Blake agreed quietly, letting Yang continue.

“It does get draining though…” she conceded after a long moment. “I have a few projects lined up in Africa. It’ll be nice to take pictures of trees and sunsets for a while.”

Yang smiled at her contentedly and Blake offered a small smile back.

Their entrees arrived and they enjoyed their meals in a comfortable silence, metal on porcelain clinking as they sliced into their delicate fare.

They would make eye contact every now and then and it made Blake shiver. She always thought Yang had a smoldering quality to her gaze which seemed to have increased ten-fold in the last five years. There was a maturity to her now, a quiet confidence that somehow made her even more sexy. The flame was tempered but burned no less bright.

Blake watched with quiet interest as Yang sipped her wine, studying her slightly pursed lips and the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her thoughts drifted unwittingly to the first kiss they shared, the other things they used to do together. How could she not? When Yang was sitting across from her looking so beautiful and real. It was like a dream.

After two more rounds of wine, the waiter set a black leather folder containing the bill in front of the raven-haired woman. Without any hesitation, Blake turned in her chair and retrieved her credit card from her purse.

“Blake, no!” Yang said. She saw the exorbitant total at the bottom of the bill. “Let’s split it.”

But Blake was already signing her name with a large cursive ‘B’ and a look of satisfaction on her face..

“If you can’t spend money on your friends, then what’s the point?” Blake said unthinkingly.

Yang paused as she was putting on her cardigan, looking at Blake with a strange expression in her eyes.

Blake’s smiled faltered. Friends, she thought. She realized then how incredibly wrong it sounded.

“Ready to go?” Blake asked quickly, trying to change the subject.

Yang nodded and they exited the restaurant, stepping out into the night air. The blonde took a deep breath as she looked up at the stars. So beautiful, Blake thought, watching her.

The alcohol in her veins made her bold. “My place isn’t too far from here…” Blake began. “Would you like to come over? Check out the view?”

She thought she saw a familiar glint in Yang’s eye when the blonde quietly said ‘yes.’

Chapter Text

As was customary after their date nights, they ended up at Yang’s apartment, furiously making out on the couch.

“Yang - “ Blake gasped, tilting her head back, inadvertently giving Yang more access.

The blonde took it, moving down her neck to lay scalding, open-mouth kisses across Blake’s throat

“Yang,” Blake repeated again.

“Mm?” Yang answered when she realized the sound of her name wasn’t just an exaltation of pleasure. Blake was actually trying to get her attention.

Blake slowly pulled away, stroking Yang’s hair behind her ears. She tried to keep her voice from shaking. “Do you want to… Um - do you want to take this to the bedroom?”

Yang paused to look at her, licking her red kiss-swollen lips. “Are you sure?”

When their relationship began, they had talked about taking it slow. Blake had never been with another girl before, and well, she was nervous. Her worst fear was they would get going and somewhere in the middle, it would become abundantly clear that she had no idea what she was doing.

She could just imagine Yang, smiling kindly at her, still wholly unsatisfied, telling her it was okay, and that she could try again next time. That was the last thing she wanted to happen.

But still, taking it slow, not doing it, was a different sort of torment. They still kissed. A lot. They kissed until they got close to the point of no return, self-control teetering on a knife’s edge, when they weren’t sure if they could stop. Yang would drive her back to her dorm, hot and bothered, leaving her to take care of herself in the shower with the blonde still on the forefront of her mind.

It had been about a month of this and Blake finally had had enough of waiting. Tonight was the night. Awkwardness be damned, she wanted Yang, all of her.

“I’m sure,” Blake said quietly. She took Yang’s hand and lead her into the bedroom, trying her very best to ignore the shakiness of her legs.

The door closed with a soft click and Yang waited patiently for Blake to make the next move.

“Can - can you turn around?”

Yang obeyed and turned around, hearing the soft sounds of clothes rustling as Blake undressed behind her.

“Okay... You can look now.”

Yang slowly turned back around. Standing in front of her was Blake, wearing a matching set of lacey black lingerie. She was speechless.

“Wow… Blake--”

“I have a scar,” Blake said apologetically before Yang could say anything else.

Yang tilted her head curiously, eyes scanning over the expanse of Blake’s creamy pale skin. She saw a small crisscrossed scar just above her left hipbone. Yang sunk to her knees, gently placing her hands on Blake’s hips to get a better look at it.

She didn’t ask how it happened, where it came from, just kissed it tenderly and said, “You’re perfect.”

Blake’s lips quirked up in a small smile.

Yang slid her fingertips up Blake’s back as she stood up, gently unclasping her bra from behind. She slowly slid the straps down her arms, letting the black lace-lined bra fall to the floor.

Blake stood tranquilly in front of her, surprised she didn’t feel the need to cover herself under Yang’s smoldering gaze. Yang looked at her like she was something to behold, like a glorious statue carved from marble with eyes that were so reverent.

Yang tucked her hair behind her ears with her fingertips, gently caressing her cheek bones with her thumbs. “You’re beautiful…” she murmured against her lips.

Blake tilted her head and they began kissing, tenderly and soft. Yang picked her up like she weighed nothing at all and carried her to bed, laying her down gently on the soft sheets. She hovered above her, gazing softly into her eyes with the same reverence as before.

With slightly trembling hands, Blake reached for the hem of her shirt but Yang got there first, grasping it and pulling it up over her head. Blake lightly traced the outline of her abs with her fingertips, Yang’s stomach muscles sucking in, clenching from her soft touch.

She reached for Yang’s belt next. Yang closed her fingers around hers and together they undid the buckle and the top button of her jeans. The blonde stepped off the bed and pushed her jeans down her hips and off, a slight blush on her cheeks as she leaned back down and reconnected their lips, sliding a knee between Blake’s thighs.

The kiss heated up quickly, tongues twisting sensually together. Yang pulled away to look deeply into Blake’s eyes, searching for any traces of uncertainty. Blake gazed steadfastly back and lightly caressed Yang’s cheek with her hand. She was sure. She wanted Yang. She wanted all of this.

Yang smiled softly and resumed the kiss, letting her lips gently brush against Blake’s, parting them open wider so she could slant her mouth deeply against hers. She slipped a hand down Blake’s stomach and cupped her through the fabric of her panties, taking a moment to savour the sensation of wet heat and need before slowly tugging her panties down.

“Yang…” Blake gasped.

They were tangled into each other, Blake’s legs wrapped around Yang’s hips, her arms wrapped around her back, fingers clutching her shoulders. Yang’s hand was worked in between their hot, sweaty bodies and moving.

Strong fingers, longer than her own, deep inside her, curling, stretching, touching places she was never even aware of before. So many sensations. So much pleasure. Blake felt lost in it all, but even in the midst, she could feel herself subtly holding back, trying to maintain control.

A part of her was afraid to give herself so completely to the experience. Afraid that it would be all-consuming, that there would be nothing left at the end except ashes.

As if sensing her hesitation, Yang whispered into her ear. “It’s okay, Blake…” she said, her breathing slightly ragged. Yang put her mouth over her pulse point, laying a slow, wet, devouring kiss on her neck. “You can let go... I’ve got you…”

And with those words and a final curl of Yang’s fingers, Blake let herself go, mouth opening in a silent cry of Yang’s name as her entire body seized and convulsed.

An explosion. A supernova. A rebirth. Blake rode wave after wave, swept away in an overwhelming tide of pleasure.

The morning sun was peeking through the crack of the curtains in Yang’s bedroom, so similar to the first night she had slept drunk in her bed. Blake had been awake for a half-hour, watching the blonde as she slept. Yang lay face down on her stomach with her cheek resting against the pillow. Blake reached out despite herself, unable to hold back, tracing the outline of Yang’s lips with her fingertips.

Worked so hard, Blake thought, gave so much without getting anything in return. She came so many times last night, losing count after the fifth. Through it all, Yang wouldn’t let her touch her back, even though Blake could smell the arousal on her, feel it slicked across her thighs.

Yang didn’t stop, as if she was addicted to the taste of her moans, swallowing each delicious sound, coaxing orgasm after orgasm with her fingers and her mouth until Blake passed out boneless on the sheets. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak. No one had ever touched her like that before.

Wrapped under the covers, Blake rose up and began laying little kisses across the back of Yang’s shoulders. She ran the tip of her tongue along the outline of the dragon tattoo that covered the expanse of her back, over bumps and ridges, curves and scales, softly blowing on the wet skin until Yang shivered. The blonde was awake now.

Blake ran her nose down the crease of Yang’s spine, inhaling her sweet unique scent. She kissed along her lower back, dipping her tongue into the indentations of her back dimples. The slight taste of salt on her skin spurred a desire deep inside her and she needed more. She wanted to make Yang feel even just a fraction of what she had felt last night.

Yang let out a slow controlled breath. “Blake…” she whispered in a raw, strained voice.

“Turn over, Yang…” Blake commanded lowly, squeezing her hip encouragingly.

Yang groaned and rolled over on her back, baring herself fully to Blake.

The dark-haired girl licked her lips, taking in the sight of her, mesmerized by the lines of petal soft flesh, the deepest shade of dusty rose. Blake leaned down and set her teeth against the jutting curve of her hipbone, staring into Yang’s eyes as she lowered her mouth even further and firmly stroked her tongue up, the sound of a sharp gasp echoing in her ears.

Oh. She was going to enjoy this.

“I can see why they call it the City of Lights,” Yang said as she peered out the apartment window with her hands clasped behind her back.

Blake smiled at her from across the quartz island counter. She lit a vanilla scented candle with a match and brought out a bottle of red Bordeaux from the fridge. Her cat Midnight snuggled up against Yang’s bare legs, purring lowly. The blonde bent down to pet the cat, scratching underneath her chin, the feline’s eyes closing in response.

“She likes you… She usually doesn’t like strangers,” Blake said, busying herself with the wine. She took off the foil collar and twisted the corkscrew. The cork came out with a pop as she pulled it out and Blake quickly poured two glasses.

“She’s a sweetheart,” Yang said, giving Midnight one last pet before rising up and looking at the photos Blake had framed on the wall.

They were black and white pictures, some from childhood, her parents, friends, and landmarks from her travels. Blake knew they were nothing compared to the jaw dropping images Yang took but they made her happy. Part of her couldn’t believe Yang was here in her apartment, casually looking at her things.

Her mind began to wander. She started imagining what it would be like if this was a regular thing, to be in each other’s lives again. What it would be like to talk to her on a daily basis… To hold her… Touch her… Kiss her… Make love to her… God, how long had it been?

“These are nice…” Yang said, glancing behind her shoulder. She caught Blake’s eye briefly before turning back to the photos.

Blake took a long sip of her wine, tasting hints of dried cherries and plums. Perhaps she was staring at her a little too intensely. She tried to look at her normally, like she didn’t know what it was like to have the hot imprint of Yang’s mouth on every inch of her body.

It was hard. She wondered idly if Yang still tasted the same… Maybe they could spend the rest of the night getting re-acquainted with each other and she would get the chance to find out. Was it wishful thinking?

After looking at a few titles on her bookshelf, Yang meandered back to the couch and sat down. She blew out a long breath, sinking into the leather cushions.

“Sorry. I guess I’m still a little tired from the jet lag.”

Blake took both wine glasses off the counter and sat next to her. Yang jumped a little, surprised by the sudden closeness.

“Here,” Blake said, handing her a glass. “It’s my favourite.” She took another long gulp from her own glass.

“Whoa, you’re drinking that kind of fast…” Yang remarked lightly. She took a small sip. “It’s good. Sweet.”

Yang looked around the room awkwardly as Blake continued to gaze longingly at her. The dark-haired woman mentally calculated the number of steps to her bedroom from the couch. Thirteen.

Blake touched her thigh to get her attention, the alcohol making her bold. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Yang smiled kindly at her but didn’t respond.

They both bent forward at the same to put their glasses on the coffee table and that small movement, that tilt of her head, was the only opportunity Blake needed to lean in and kiss her on the lips. Yang let out a surprised gasp, too shocked to respond. Blake couldn’t help herself, she went in for another kiss but this time Yang pulled back.

“I can’t,” Yang said, looking down. “I’m seeing someone…”

Blake felt her entire being contract from those words. “Oh…” she said dejectedly. Her cheeks were flushed from embarrassment. She felt incredibly foolish. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It must have been the wine…”

Yes the wine, not the crushing sense of nostalgia she had been feeling ever since that day in the forest when she first laid eyes on her.

“It’s okay.”

“What’s – what’s their name?”

“Her name’s Pyrrha.”

The name triggered an image of a beautiful red headed girl she once saw on a cover of a sports magazine. “Pyrrha Nikos the tennis player?”

Yang nodded.

“Oh… She’s beautiful…” Blake said wistfully, fiddling with her fingers. “How long have you been together?”

Yang looked away. “A year.”

“Right.” Blake wasn’t sure why she said that. Why she did anything for that matter. She felt so stupid. She never thought to ask if Yang was with anyone… Maybe she was afraid to…

“I should go.”

“…Yeah…”

“It was nice catching up, Blake. I mean that.”

Blake inwardly panicked. Despite it all, she still wanted to see her again. She didn’t want this to be the end.

“Wait, when are you leaving again?”

Yang looked unsure, a clash of emotions displayed on her face. “Sunday.”

“Can I see you one last time? Saturday, before you leave?”

“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea…”

“I promise I won’t try to kiss you again.” Blake fabricated a chuckle to lighten the mood. “It was the wine, it went to my head. Please? We can get brunch... It’s been so long.” Please, she repeated with her eyes.

Yang was torn, almost a hundred percent sure that she’d regret it. But, Blake was looking at with that same look in her eyes as before and she was always so weak for her.

“Alright, one last time…” she finally answered, forcing a smile.

Chapter Text

Snap.

Yang rolled on her side and opened her eyes to see Blake holding her vintage Polaroid camera, the electronic gears whirring as a picture slowly slid out the front. Blake was wearing one of her oversized white T-shirts and nothing else, bare legs visible from below the long hem.

“What are you doing?” Yang asked, her voice still raspy from sleep.

“I thought I’d get you back for last time.”

Blake snapped another picture, this time capturing Yang pushing her bangs away from her face.

“Stop it, you’re wasting film… That shit’s expensive,” Yang groaned.

Blake took another picture, undeterred.

“Last warning,” Yang said, looking up with her chin resting against her forearm.

Snap.

The last picture Blake managed to get was Yang with a fierce glint in her eye, right before she threw off the covers and lunged out of bed. Blake darted away and scampered out of the room, laughing.

“Come here!”

Yang chased her down the hall and got a hold of her shirt, pulling her body to her. They wrestled playfully for the camera, Blake with her arms stretched out, trying to hold it out of reach. Yang changed tactics and began tickling her relentlessly.

“Stop - stop!” Blake said, between laughs. She could hardly breathe.

“That’s what I thought,” Yang said, victorious with the camera in her hand, setting it aside on the floor.

They were both breathing heavily from the exchange and smiling. Blake still had a mischievous glint in her eye as she grabbed Yang by the front of the shirt and pulled her in for a deep kiss. Yang reciprocated the kiss immediately, pressing Blake against the wall and pulling her legs around her waist.

Blake nipped Yang possessively on her bottom lip, feeling Yang shudder as soothed the sting with her tongue. Yang opened her mouth and sucked her in, tongues tangling combatively as Blake rocked her hips against Yang’s firm stomach.

With one arm holding her weight against the wall, Yang slipped her free hand underneath the hem of her shirt, stroking Blake slowly through the fabric of her panties.

Blake groaned, grabbing a fistful of Yang’s hair. “Yang, please.”

Yang looked into her eyes and grinned luridly as she pushed her underwear aside and drove two fingers up and into her.

“Fuck…” Blake gasped. She was embarrassingly wet already and aching for her touch.

Slow. Deep. Hard. Blake could feel the exact length of each finger, every crease in her knuckles. Yang stared heatedly into her eyes as she fucked her, gorgeous rings of lilac surrounding pitch black pupils. Blake thought she could come from that look alone.

Blake rolled her hips forward to meet each thrust, deepening the sensation. She was on the edge of a rollercoaster, hurtling towards an orgasm that she wasn’t quite ready for. But it was happening anyways. Sparks exploded behind her eyes as she cried out, her entire body shuddering around Yang’s fingers.

She was still shaking when Yang slowly guided them down to the floor, breathing into her neck as they leaned against the wall in an exhausted heap. Yang brought her hand up, marveling at the amount of wetness dripping down her wrist as it glistened in the light.

Blake blushed and took her fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean, licking lasciviously along the skin between each digit. She was somewhat ambivalent to her own taste, Yang tasted much better in her opinion. Speaking of…

Blake gently pushed Yang on to her back, hands slowly undoing the drawstrings of her gym shorts before pulling them down. She kissed Yang on the outside her panties and pressed a tongue against the outline of her swollen clit, blowing a hot breath through the soaked fabric.

Yang shuddered and gasped. “Take them off.”

Blake obeyed and tugged her panties off, curling her arms around her thighs. She went to work, savouring Yang’s taste, the sounds she made. The passage of time seemed to slow and lose purpose, blood pounding in Blake’s ears as the sound of their moans melded together and became one.

Salt and sweetness in her mouth, a pleasing ache in her jaw. She didn’t stop until Yang begged her to, until she was completely spent and had nothing left. Yang was laying on the floor with her forearm slung over her eyes, her chest heaving up and down as she fought to catch her breath.

Blake rested her cheek against her thigh and watched her. She felt satisfied, content.

After a few quiet moments, Yang inexplicably found the strength to sit up. She flipped Blake over on her back, reaching under her shirt to pull her panties off completely. With a determined look in her eyes, she kissed down her pubic bone and placed a palm over her stomach, a light steadying pressure as she wrenched unbearable pleasure from her body.

Yang sighed happily, her arms in a sink full of warm soapy water as she washed the dishes from their breakfast. She could hear the water running in the bathroom as Blake showered, a comforting sound that elicited fantasies of a domestic future. She didn’t think she had ever felt so happy. Meeting Blake was… Yang couldn’t describe it.

They just seemed to complete each other. Not just physically, although the sex was sublime, but in every other way as well. She made her happy. She would do anything to make her happy. It was hard to believe it had only been a handful of months. It felt like she had known Blake for years, since forever. She had never felt such a strong connection to another person before.

Yang had almost said it... The L word. A few nights ago, when they were both coming off the high, panting in tandem as they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes. She almost said it. Yang wanted to, right at that moment, but she didn’t want Blake to think that she didn’t mean it, that it was just some meaningless post-coital pillow talk.

Maybe she’d tell her tonight, over dinner.

Yang felt a pair of warm arms wrap around her waist from behind.

“What can I do to help?” Blake asked, laying a sweet little kiss on her neck.

Yang turned her head slightly and kissed her chastely on the mouth. “Put the clean dishes away?”

Blake kissed her one last time, hands lingering at her waist before gathering the dried plates off the dish rack and taking them to the cupboard. She was looking for the utensil drawer with a handful of forks in her hand when she saw a folded paper with a familiar bold moniker.

She set down the forks and picked up the paper from the drawer. “What’s this?”

Yang froze, arms still halfway in the soapy water of the sink.

“This is Time Magazine, Yang!” Blake quickly read over the contents of the letter. It said they had seen Yang’s portfolio and were offering her a paid internship at the magazine.

“Yeah…” Yang said quietly, pulling out the plug from the drain.

“Yeah? That’s all you’re going to say? This is amazing!”

“I guess…”

“Well, aren’t you going to respond?”

“I don’t think I’m going to take it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s in New York, Blake.”

Oh.

“Like, I have a lot going on here, with Ruby, and school. I should finish my degree and…”

Blake listened quietly as Yang listed reason after reason for not taking the internship, purposely not mentioning their relationship. It led her to believe that it was in fact was the main reason.

But it’s your dream…

Yang was looking off to the side, at the window when Blake realized she had stopped talking.

“Sorry, what did you say?...” she asked.

“I said, we should probably get going. You got a class in the afternoon, right?”

Blake nodded wordlessly. She was out of it and Yang could see it.

“Come on.” Yang touched her lightly on the shoulder, tenderly. “I’ll drive you...”

Blake had been avoiding her for an entire week, claiming she was swamped with finals. Yang dialed her number anyways and after a few rings, it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey Blake, it’s me. I know you’re busy with finals or whatever but I just…” Miss you so much? Need to see you? “Just call me back when you can...”

She hung up, gripping the phone tightly in her hand. “Fuck!” she yelled, staring at the blank black screen.

It was like a car accident was unfolding right in front of her and she was powerless to stop it.

Blake couldn’t stop thinking about it. The internship. The future. Life-changing decisions. She had gotten some news recently herself in the form of an acceptance letter. Before meeting Yang, she thought she had an idea of how she wanted her life to go... But now, she wasn’t so sure.

‘Being a photojournalist is like my dream.’

It was Yang’s dream. She couldn’t let her pass up that opportunity, even if it was for her. Blake was certain she’d resent her for it eventually. They were both so young, just twenty-one years old. They had their whole lives ahead of them and it was becoming painfully clear that it would take them in different directions.

It had only been five months since they met, although it felt much longer. If Blake was being honest with herself, they had been the happiest of her life. But still… It was too soon. Too soon to make life-altering decisions, to give up dreams for one another.

Maybe it was time to end it, Blake thought sorrowfully. Before it got too serious and real feelings developed. It would hurt so much more at that point…

Yang had a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach when after ten days of radio silence, Blake texted out of the blue on a Saturday and said she was on her way over.

“Hey, how did your finals go?” Yang asked conversationally when Blake walked through the door.

“They were fine,” Blake said distractedly, looking down at her hands. She looked up and made eye contact with Yang, serious and unflinching. “We need to talk.”

Yang’s heart sank. “What’s wrong?” she asked, though she knew what it was about immediately. “Is this about the internship? Blake, I told you, I’m not going to take it.”

Blake took the practiced steps to emotionally detach herself. “Yang…” She savoured the taste of her name. “It’s a once in a life time opportunity.”

Yang looked away, thinking about it for a second, before fiercely looking back at Blake. “There will be others—“

“You can’t let this - what we have - hold you back.”

“Blake, no--”

“I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Then come with me!” Yang blurted out.

Blake forced a smile even though she on the verge of tears. “I can’t. I got into the School of Journalism here at Berkely.”

Yang paused. She was floundering, drowning.

“Baby, no. Don’t do this, please. We can do long distance--”

Blake shook her head. She had witnessed long distance relationships around her crumble over time when she moved out for college, love withered away to nothing. The thought of that happening with her and Yang was unbearable. It would be more painful and drawn out than a clean break…

“I think we should break up,” Blake said in a small, almost inaudible voice.

Yang looked like she had just been stabbed in the heart. “…What?” she croaked.

“We should break up…” Blake couldn’t bear to look at Yang as she said those words.

Yang stared doggedly ahead at Blake even though it felt like her entire being was shattering.

“So that’s it?” she questioned. “You don’t want to fight for this? You don’t want to fight for us?”

Blake bit her lip, trying her hardest not to cry. “We can still be friends…”

Yang said nothing for a long painful moment. “Okay…” She looked broken, small. Her hands hung limply at her sides as she stared at the floor with her head down.

“I have to go.”

“…Yeah…”

Blake walked out the door and waited until she got into the elevator before bursting into tears.

Chucking clothes in a duffle bag, tears blurring her vision as Yang ran around the apartment in a frantic rush. The only thing she took care to pack was her photography gear, gently placing her camera and lenses in the carrying case.

Yang had called the magazine a day ago to accept the offer, asking if she could start right away. The flight was booked and she was leaving this afternoon.

She set her bags down in the kitchen to rip out a page out of a notepad and scribble down a quick note:

     Hey Rubes, I took an earlier flight, you know how I hate goodbyes. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.

     I love you. I’ll call as soon as I get settled.

     Yang

The taxi cab was already at the curb when Yang descended down the steps.

“The airport,” she said, throwing her duffle bag across the back seat and getting in beside it.

“Sure thing, ma’am.” The driver paused when he noticed Yang’s state of distress. “Are you okay?”

“I’m f-fine!” Yang said, voice cracking in the middle. Tears streamed down her face behind her aviator sunglasses.

“Ma’am?”

“Just drive!!”

Blake sat cross-legged on the floor of her dorm room in the dim light of the evening, surrounded by various items; a silk purple scarf, ticket stubs, photographs, polaroids, an oversized light brown teddy bear.

She started putting away the items in an empty shoe box, things that hurt her to see but couldn’t bear to throw away. With tenderness and care, she gently placed the teddy bear in a large, opaque, clothing store bag from the mall. It’s for the best, she thought as she placed the lid on the box, closing a chapter of memories from her life. It’s for the best.

It was ten ‘o clock on Saturday morning when they sat across from each other at a quaint bistro on the west end. Yang looked tired and uncharacteristically distracted as she scrolled through her phone. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her brows, uttering a worn-out sigh.

“Are you alright?” Blake asked.

“I have a headache,” Yang said with her eyes closed. “I haven’t been sleeping very well the last few nights.”

That makes two of us, Blake thought.

Yang’s phone pinged for the third time since they sat down. Someone was trying to get a hold of her.

“Is it Pyrrha?” Blake asked in a strained tone. She couldn’t hide the disdain in her voice even though she knew it was completely irrational. She had no claim to Yang, not anymore.

Yang’s eyes flashed up to Blake from her phone. “No. It’s work,” she said gruffly.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Blake began, trying to sound casual. “How come she’s not with you on this trip?”

“She’s getting ready for the US Open in LA,” Yang deflected. “It’s fine. We’re able to see each other times in the year…” She looked away at the window in the corner. “We decided we could make long distance work.”

Blake nearly dropped her spoon as she retracted it from her tea cup. She understood where the barb was coming from but it hurt her all the same.

“What about you?”

“...What about me?...” Blake asked slowly in return.

“A beautiful woman like you... You’ve must have had a lot of admirers. And just how many people have you dated?”

Blake was shocked into answering honestly by the callousness of the question. “Not anyone seriously…” Not after you.

Yang suddenly looked ashamed, angry at herself for asking. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I’m not feeling like myself. Excuse me,” she said, setting down her phone on the table and walking towards the direction of the washroom.

Blake eyed Yang’s phone with an intense sort of fixation. She started reaching out despite herself, grabbing it before the screen could auto-lock. Hating herself, she looked into her phone. Maybe if she could see how in love they really were, it would dispel the illusion forever and she could finally move on.

To her surprise, it was work. National Geographic was contacting her about a project in a set of emails. Blake scrolled through her emails and saw a folder named ‘Pyrrha’ on the left panel of her Outlook app. She tapped into it and saw few emails, the most recent dated eight months ago.

     Yang, I know we said we’d try again but you and I both know that you’re still hung up on her.

     I don’t blame you and I’ll always care for you in some way. Please take care of yourself.

     Pyrrha

Blake put the phone down right before Yang came back to the table, still reeling from what she had just read.

“Hey I’m not feeling too good. Is it okay if we cut this brunch short after the food gets here?” Yang said, sitting back down.

Blake nodded. “Sure,” she said dazedly.

The food arrived, plates of poached eggs and hollandaise sauce set before them.

Yang picked up her fork and knife while Blake sat statically in her seat, not making any move to touch her food.

“Shall we eat?” Yang asked, noticing Blake’s odd behaviour.

‘Still hung up on her.’

An internal debate was taking place inside Blake’s head. Fight or flight. Confront or run. The age old question.

“You said you were seeing someone, but you broke up months ago,” Blake said suddenly.

Yang stared forward petulantly. She had been caught in a lie.

“Did you go into my phone?”

“Why did you lie to me?”

Yang punched in her code and looked at her phone, seeing what Blake had seen. “That email wasn’t about you.”

Blake felt the slightest bit uncertainty but deep down she knew the truth. “You’re lying.”

Yang reached into her pocket and dropped a stack of euros on the table. “This was a mistake,” she said as she stood up and walked briskly out of the restaurant.

Blake muttered a quick apology to the confused server and chased Yang outside where she was already halfway up the sidewalk.

“Yang!”

“No, Blake!” Yang said, turning around, eyes blazing red and bloodshot. “You don’t get to do this to me after all this time!”

Blake looked at her helplessly.

“I knew it. I just knew it!” Yang said seemingly to herself. “I knew you were just going to hurt me. I’m such a fool!”

“I… I…” Blake tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come.

“You broke up with me. You left me.”

“Yang… Breaking up with you was the worst decision of my life. There wasn’t a day I didn’t regret it.”

“But you still ended it, didn’t you? Gave up so easily. You – You didn’t even try!”

“I thought it was for the best…” Blake’s voice sounded wooden.

“No,” Yang said, taking a long deep breath, shuddering ever so slightly on the exhale. “You were just afraid.”

The note of finality in which she said it made Blake’s heart drop. “I was… And I was so terribly wrong.”

Yang bit her lip, on the verge of tears. “God, I loved you.”

Blake froze on the spot. “You - you never said anything…”

“And you didn’t feel it?”

“I did… I did feel it. I loved you then and I still do! I never stopped. No one’s ever made me feel the way you do, that there wasn’t something wrong with me… Like there wasn’t something missing!”

“Well that was then and this is now.” Yang sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I never should have agreed to see you again after that day in the forest.”

Blake thought back about the past week, putting the pieces together. Yang could have blown her off, made excuses, but she agreed to see her time after time again. She must have felt something too.

“Yang, us meeting again in that forest… That kind of thing doesn’t just happen. I don’t believe it was just blind luck. You coming back into my life, after all these years, in Paris of all places. It means something!”

“It means nothing!” Yang yelled. “It’s done. It’s over. We’re over!” And she stormed off, walking briskly down the street.

Blake just stood there, feeling completely empty and devoid of any emotion except sadness and regret.

Chapter Text

Yang wouldn’t return any of her calls. The voicemail beep sounded but Blake couldn’t bring herself to leave a message. How could she possibly apologize and convey the regret she felt in a mere 30 seconds? It was 3 am, Sunday morning. After a sleepless night, Blake found herself getting dressed in a daze, walking out the door of her apartment, towards the metro station to take the train to the airport.

What was she even doing, she thought as she sat down on the hard plastic seat. Yang surely wouldn’t forgive her. Maybe she wanted to get some sort of closure, to get shot down in the most dramatic way possible. It would be a fitting ending for everything that had happen between them. Blake closed her eyes and set her forehead against the cool glass of the subway car window.

She had no idea what time Yang’s flight was or where she was flying to. Blake sat on a bench in the international departures area, looking for any sign of that familiar blonde hair.

She waited for hours. The sun from the skylight atrium changing directions and shadows across her face as the day went on. It was 4:30 pm in the afternoon, during an unusually quiet lull in the activity of the busy airport when she finally gave up.

Did Yang take an earlier flight? Was she too late? She was always too late. Maybe this was the anti-climatic ending she deserved.

Feeling completely defeated, Blake walked back to the station and took the train back to her apartment.

She was supposed to go back to work on Monday but she called in sick. A sickness of the heart, Blake thought miserably. It was raining lightly outside, dark and grey, a perfect complement to her current mood. She set her half finished mug of tea on the side of the sink and shuffled in her slippers to the bedroom.

Blake sunk to her knees and reached under her bed, taking out an old shoebox. She hadn’t opened it in years. Memories flooded back as she took out each item; a purple scarf, a movie ticket stub, a black and white photograph of the two of them... She paused, covering her mouth as a memory as clear as day replayed in her head.

“What are you doing?” Blake asked sleepily, opening her eyes slightly to see Yang standing by the side of the bed with her camera in her hands. She looked like she had just woken up as well, still clad in her loose-fitting sleep shirt and nothing else.

“You look so beautiful in the light,” Yang murmured, taking a picture.

Right, Blake thought, so beautiful with bed head and sleep lines on her cheek.

She raised her head and looked at Yang, half lidded golden eyes bright and smoldering.

“Yeah like that. So sexy...”

Yang snapped another picture, capturing Blake’s sleepy smile on the camera.

“Come here…” Blake murmured, beckoning her with her hand.

Yang came closer and Blake tugged on her T-shirt until she was laying on top of her. She took the camera out of Yang’s hands and set it down on the night stand, accidently hitting the button as she pulled Yang in for a kiss. The shutter flickered rapidly, capturing their heated kiss on the bed in several black and white images.

Tears, unbidden, flowing down Blake’s face as she clutched the photo in her trembling hand.

A knock on the door startled her but she ignored it, choosing to weep as quietly as she could.

After a moment, another knock, firm and insistent. Blake rolled her watery eyes and made no move to answer it.

Then another knock. Blake let out a frustrated growl.

“Go away!” she yelled. She didn’t care if she sounded crazy, like a child. Why couldn’t they take the hint?

To her surprise, whoever it was dared to knock again.

Blake got up and stomped toward the door, not bothering to wipe her tears. The poor soul on the other side of the door, whatever survey or delivery person the doorman had admitted was going to get the full picture what they walked into; a fucking train wreck.

“What do you want!!?”

Blake threw open the door ready to unleash fury but whatever she was going to say next was cut off by the breath catching in her throat as she gasped sharply.

Yang was standing there with her hands in the pockets of her black leather jacket, staring at her, lilac eyes clear and intense.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Every word…” Blake managed to say after her brain cells finally reconnected through her shock.

“Do you still love me?”

“Yes. With all my heart.”

Yang walked up to her and looked her right in the eye. “Good,” she said and then gently grasped Blake’s face and kissed her.

Blake responded with relief and joy, clutching at Yang’s jacket desperately, unable to believe this was actually happening. If this was a dream, then she didn’t want to wake up.

Too soon, Yang was pulling away to catch her breath. 

“I wanted to do that since the moment I first saw you,” Yang whispered when they finally broke apart.

“God… Me too…” Blake said breathlessly, leaning in to kiss her again.

Blake’s hands traveled up Yang’s back, slipping under the collar, fingers itching to find bare skin. Yang shrugged off the jacket quickly and wrapped her arms around the small of Blake’s back, squeezing her firmly before sliding her hands down to the back of her thighs to lift her up.

Blake let out a soft moan as their hips made contact, wrapping her legs tightly around Yang’s waist as she carried her to the bedroom.

Yang gently laid her down on the bed, reaching up under the long hem of Blake’s un-tucked white button-up shirt to get at the waistband of her black leggings. She rolled them down slowly, the thin elastic pants turning inside out as she pulled them off her legs.

Yang touched her lips to Blake’s ankle, running the tip of her nose up slowly along the satiny skin of the inside of her leg. The scent of her so close made her head spin, mouth watering from just the thought of tasting her again. With trembling fingers and an aching slowness, Yang carefully tugged down her black panties.

Blake couldn’t stop shaking, her body pulled taut like a bow string, quivering with anticipation. She wished Yang would hurry, but the blonde seemed content to take her time, eyes roving reverently over the rivers and valleys of her flushed skin.

She gasped when she felt warm breath on the most sensitive part of her, and then outright moaned when Yang mercifully made contact with the flat of her tongue.

Blake’s taste flooded her mouth as Yang drank her in, deeply, gratefully. She needed this as badly as Blake did, groaning as she pressed her tongue a little firmer, hearing Blake’s hitched gasp break through the thick air, clear and sharp.

Each touch was electrifying, a jarring jolt to the system that made her hips arch off the bed. Blake came just after a few strokes, thighs quivering around Yang’s shoulders, whispering her name like a prayer as she shed tears of pure joy.

Yang came up and held her as she shivered through the aftershocks.

“You came so fast,” Yang murmured after a few long moments, cradling Blake’s face in her hand, drying her tears with soft strokes from her thumb.

“Yeah…” Blake said, taking a deep breath before rolling on to her side so she could hover over top of Yang.

She carefully lifted Yang’s black tank top up and off. No bra, Blake vaguely registered as she leaned in to take a pale pink nipple into her mouth. She palmed both Yang’s breasts in her hands, squeezing firmly. Yang sighed and threaded her fingers in her dark hair as Blake moved her mouth to the other nipple.

Blake looked up as she was sucking and caught Yang’s longing stare. The heat and desire in those lilac eyes… Blake just had to kiss her again. She popped off and slanted her mouth firmly against hers. Their lips and tongues moved in tandem like old partners on the dance floor, only stopping when the need for air became too great.

Blake stared at Yang, panting hoarsely to catch her breath. She reached down to undo the button and zipper of her jeans and pulled them off, along with Yang’s underwear in one go. She shucked off her own shirt, not bothering to undo the buttons and kneeled over Yang, running the back of her fingers through a thatch of golden curls before turning them up to make contact.

Yang was so wet. Blake glanced down to see Yang looking pleadingly up at her. She didn’t waste another second, quickly slipping two fingers all the way into her.

Five years did nothing to dull the memory she had of Yang’s body. She almost cried from how good Yang felt. She stroked her slowly, patiently, curling her fingers up, pressing hard until Yang bit her lip and whimpered, rolling her hips submissively to meet each thrust.

Yang came quietly, just a breathy gasp exiting her lips as her entire body tensed and trembled. Blake kept going, fingers moving steadily as she leaned down between Yang’s legs to take her clit into her mouth, lapping at the firm bud until she felt a second tremor rip through Yang’s body.

“S-stop,” Yang said when she was unable to take anymore.

Blake slid her fingers out and sucked them clean. Her taste… she thought. As good as last time… Maybe even better.

“Come here,” Yang panted. She pulled Blake in for a soft, tender kiss, a sweet combination of both their tastes mingling in their mouths as they pulled away and gazed softly into each other’s eyes.

Blake had her head tucked securely beneath Yang’s chin, ear on her chest, counting the beats of her heart. Hours seemed to have passed as they lay there tranquilly on the bed. It had stopped raining and few rays of sunshine were peeking through the curtains.

“Yang…?” Blake was almost afraid to ask. “What made you come back?”

“I just--” Yang’s voice broke. “I missed you too damn much,” she said, shedding tears of her own.

Blake wiped them away gently, trying not to cry but failing. “I missed you too. God…”

Five years, Blake thought, shaking her head. She had made such a mess of things and Yang still came back to her. It was unbelievable. It was a miracle.

“I love you,” Blake said, sure and absolute.

Yang brought their lips together and looked into her eyes. “I love you too.” And then a hint of uncertainty. “Blake, I’m still… My work, I--”

“We’ll figure it out,” Blake said resolutely. She grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. “Yang Xiao Long, I am never letting you go again.”

And it was true. Five years apart. Five years to make up for. Blake would never let her go again and it was a promise she intended to keep.

Chapter Text

The boat swayed on the waves as Blake sat in the small study below deck. She was just finishing up the second last paragraph of her chapter, a band of gold shining on her ring finger as she struck the keys of her vintage typewriter.

The switch from editor to author went smoother than she thought. Her last book was a best-seller and she found that had no shortage of inspiration when she was with the love of her life. And besides, she thought, I never really liked politics.

“Blaa-ake!” her wife called from above deck. “Come check this out!”

Blake smiled and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. Midnight meowed quietly on the desk in front of her, paws tucked comfortably underneath her chest, tail wagging lazily about.

Blake scratched affectionately behind her ears. “Good girl,” she said.

Blake walked up the wooden steps to the deck slowly, shielding her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. There wasn’t a cloud in the brilliantly blue sky. It was a perfect day for sailing.

Yang was standing at the bow, grinning at Blake over her shoulder, looking even more beautiful in the sparkling light if that was even possible. Blake wished she could capture this moment forever. The image saved vividly in her memory would have to suffice.

Yang made room for Blake as she walked up. Blake rested her arms on the railing and took a deep breath of the warm sea air. Before her was a stunning view of the island in the crystal clear azure water.

“Aren’t you glad I made you fall in love with me?” Yang whispered in her ear as she wrapped her arms around her from behind.

“Careful now…” Blake purred. “If your head gets any bigger, it might not fit through the door.”

Yang laughed and kissed Blake on the cheek. “You love it.”

“Yeah,” Blake agreed. She looked at Yang, smiling. “I do.”

Fin