Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Collections:
AvaTrice
Stats:
Published:
2022-12-17
Words:
5,462
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
28
Kudos:
1,545
Bookmarks:
151
Hits:
10,606

A Little Space Between Us Now

Summary:

Ava has been acting weird.

Beatrice is ashamed to realize it, suddenly, days late when she is sitting alone in their apartment waiting for Ava to come back from her shift at the bar.

Ava has been acting weird, pulling away, putting space between them...and Beatrice has no idea why.

Notes:

This was inspired from little bits and pieces of a handful of other works on here. If I can find the ones it was I'll put them here in the notes or something, but essentially there were a few snippets and scenes that my angst glutton of a brain decided to latch onto and piece together into our own story...enjoy? It ends good, I swear.

Work Text:

Ava has been acting weird. 

Beatrice is ashamed to realize it, suddenly, days late when she is sitting alone in their apartment waiting for Ava to come back from her shift at the bar. She catches herself, briefly, secretly, longing for the moment Ava will get home and immediately pile next to her on the couch (closer than necessary, bodies pressing oh so tightly together at their sides) so that she can launch into an energetic and surely over-dramatized recounting of her day for Beatrice to listen and react to.

Beatrice catches herself longing for it and then simultaneously feels both the shame of that want bubble in her chest along with the pang of wrong-ness and loss. Because, Beatrice realizes, Ava hadn’t actually been doing that for the last few days. It had been her tradition every time she worked a shift without Beatrice for weeks now, and yet now Beatrice was having a hard time remembering exactly when the last time had been. She had worked alone yesterday, but when Ava came home she’d simply smiled at Beatrice and gone for a shower. The day before she’d immediately begun preparing things for dinner….Beatrice realizes that it must have been at least a week since Ava had done it. 

A cold sense of dread begins to pile in her stomach. 

Ava has been acting weird. 

With the realization of that tradition having faltered, the rest begin to fall into Beatrice like a waterfall. 

Ava never sits too close to her anywhere anymore, not just when she gets home. No matter where they are or what they were doing, Beatrice had grown to expect that Ava would disregard all semblance of personal space and crowd into her side, even if all she could do was press a hand to her arm or link their ankles under a table. In every recent instance of sitting together that Beatrice can remember, there has always been a few inches of space between them. Seemingly carefully maintained, not by Beatrice, but by Ava herself.

Ava never touches her unnecessarily anymore. Similar to when sitting, Ava had a habit of just reaching for Beatrice simply to touch her. Linking their arms. Rubbing a hand along her back as she walks behind her. Resting a hand on her shoulder in bed, or on a hip in the kitchen or at the bar. Flittering a palm down her forearm just because. Beatrice had attributed it to Ava spending so long not being able to touch or feel anything, and now suddenly being able to. She was simply enjoying her new freedom, no matter how many times the touches unintentionally sent Beatrice into her own spiral of shock, want, shame, and anxiety. But now the touches had stopped. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she replayed her memories of the last few days and recognized the distinct lack of any warm touches gracing her recently. How had she missed that?

Ava didn’t kiss her on the cheek or forehead to say goodbye anymore. That had been one of the touches that had been the hardest for Beatrice to become accustomed to, Ava’s tendency to use a quick peck as a goodbye, but she had secretly grown to crave them as well. She knew they were the closest she’d ever get to something she could never have and she cradled the brief feeling of Ava’s lips on her skin in her heart. No matter how much it burned her on the inside when she remembered why she shouldn’t. She still needed it, craved to know that feeling. But Ava hadn’t kissed her in days. That Beatrice could remember exactly. The last had been a quick peck to her cheek - oh so, so close to the corner of her lips, the closest yet - three days ago, as Ava had been leaving the bar and heading home just as Beatrice was starting her shift. 

Ava didn’t tease ( flirt ) with her anymore. They still traded puns occasionally, sure, but there’d been a distinct lack of the flirty, teasing comments Ava had been known to throw Beatrice’s way just to leave her a stuttering mess. As much as she hated to feel speechless, Beatrice had loved being on the receiving end of Ava’s teasing remarks. It felt good. She had someone who was fond of her and knew her well enough to tease her. She felt cared for and appreciated, even if it was only as a friend and not what her heart called for. She even mustered up the courage to tease back every now and again. But now, there’d been nothing. They’d talk about work or training or cooking or life and Ava would still make the occasional pun or joke, it was her default after all, but there had been no teasing of Beatrice. Nothing personal.

Ava was acting weird. 

Beatrice swallows down the panic rising in her chest and puts down the shirt she’d been mending - one of Ava’s, cut in training - so that she could focus on her thoughts for what to do next. She’s not sure how she missed it for so long, but now that she sees the pattern of all of these little things, there’s no denying it. She’s been acting differently, pulling away in a dozen small ways, and Beatrice searches her brain to think of why. There could be a lot of reasons for Ava’s change in behavior. She didn’t want to jump to anything hasty. She could be stressed with the situation. She could have a life event anniversary coming up that’s causing her turmoil. She could simply be tired. Or she could finally be growing accustomed to her new bodily freedom, no longer needing the constant reassurances that she was free and could touch. Or she finally realized what her touches do to you and got uncomfortable . Beatrice bites the inside of her cheek and shakes her head to clear away the thought. There was no need to jump to conclusions. She’d simply need to observe Ava more carefully, maybe talk to her if it came to it. It would be ok. 

The cold pit in Beatrice’s stomach hardens into an icy ball.

Beatrice is still trying to get herself to calm and refocus on the sewing in front of her, hands shaking slightly, when Ava gets home. Beatrice subtly holds her breath when the door opens, hoping Ava would simply catapult herself onto the couch next to her and wipe clean all of Beatrice’s recent thoughts. She doesn’t get her wish.

She raises her head to smile at Ava as she steps through the door. Her heart sinks to her feet when the only response she receives from Ava is a slow blink, small smile, and a soft “Hey, Bea.” 

Ava walks carefully into the apartment, being sure to remove her shoes and coat and store them away in their proper places (something she has never done before, Beatrice notes, despite Beatrice constantly reminding her, but has been doing for the last few days), before shuffling deeper into the room. 

“I’m going to take a quick shower, then I’ll be out to help with dinner,” Ava says as she crosses in front of where Beatrice sits on the couch. The path she takes keeps her a full 6 inches away from Beatrice at all times as she passes. She doesn’t reach out to skim a hand across a shoulder or over her head on the way, as she would have before.  

Beatrice swallows thickly. “Ok,” she says. Then, softer, less sure, but forcing herself to have the courage, she asks, “Are you ok, Ava?”

Ava pauses at the door to their small bathroom, turning to shoot a calming smile over her shoulder at Beatrice. “Of course, just tired. I’ll be out in a minute,” she says.

“Ok, just let me know if you need anything,” Beatrice replies, too fast. 

Ava pauses in turning back to the bathroom and looks back again, seems to consider Beatrice for a moment, then speaks. Her voice is achingly calm and…blank. “Ok. Thanks for fixing my shirt, Bea. Appreciate it.”

“Of course, happy to help,” Beatrice says. 

Ava flashes her another small, soft smile before closing the door between them. 

Beatrice takes several deep breaths, staring down at the shirt in her lap. Ava is acting weird but she says she’s just tired. Beatrice will make sure they go to bed early. She will give Ava an easier training day tomorrow, the girl has earned it anyway, and it will be fine. 

Shakily, she finishes the sewing. The stitches are less neat than normal but not so bad that she thinks Ava will notice. She puts the completed task down and waits for Ava to come back. 

They make dinner together like two planets circling each other in the same solar system - passing close but never touching. They quietly eat together in front of the TV, 3 inches between them on the couch, while one of Ava’s movies plays in front of them. They go to bed early, without even one complaint from Ava. 

Beatrice spends a long time staring at the ceiling willing herself to calm the racing thoughts in her head long enough to sleep. It doesn’t work well. 

The next two days pass in a haze of anxiety for Beatrice.

Ava completes all of their training times with no complaints.

No puns either. 

Beatrice sees Ava hip-checking Hans in the bar more than once, just because she was passing him and she could. They both giggle and laugh each time.

Beatrice sees Ava look at the seat directly next to Beatrice at the table at lunch, and choose to sit in the one across from her instead.

Beatrice sees Ava bantering and teasing Miguel at the counter until he’s scarlet red in the face.

On the second morning, when their alarm goes off and Beatrice wakes to find herself blissfully wrapped in Ava’s arms, her heart swells for a moment. But then Ava wakes too and immediately pulls herself away, standing from the bed to get ready. She doesn’t even attempt to snuggle back into her pillow or get Beatrice to sleep in, as she previously would have. 

Beatrice’s heart freezes over and cracks.

Her thoughts start to darken. The anxiety starts to get the better of her.

When Ava returns from her shift alone on the night of the second day, Beatrice stands and greets her in the kitchen. 

Ava hesitates, thrown by this change, and moves to step around Beatrice to leave for the bedroom. 

Beatrice steps to the side, gently blocking her path. “Ava? Are you ok? Are we ok?” she asks in a rush, courage barely keeping her afloat.

Ava blinks and looks up at her, confused. “Course, Bea,” she says. She takes another step to the side and moves around Beatrice, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder as she passes. “I’m tired. I’m going to take a shower, ‘kay?”

She doesn’t wait for a reply before leaving the room and locking herself in the bathroom. 

Beatrice’s shoulder simultaneously burns and freezes as her thoughts spin.

Two more days pass with the same pattern and Beatrice begins to plan. She’s always been good at planning. At finding a solution. At putting something into motion. She needs to find a way to get Ava to tell her what’s going on and she knows exactly what to do. She just hopes it works.

First she scouts a good location. Somewhere easy enough to get to and from, but far enough out for no one to find them. 

Then she plans their schedules at work for the next week carefully. Makes sure they both have two days off in a row, together, then makes sure they don’t work a single shift at the same time for the next five days…just in case. 

When that’s prepared, all she can do is wait. She doesn’t sleep much. 

On the morning of their first day off, Ava lets her get her up early and out the door without complaint or even comment. 

By the time they begin their walk to the spot Beatrice picked out, Ava is awake enough to at least start talking. “So why are you luring me out to the middle of nowhere today?” Ava asks eventually.

“We need to be somewhere we won’t be seen or overheard today,” Beatrice replies. She sees Ava tense out of the corner of her eye and curses herself. She hadn’t meant to worry her. 

“Trying your hand at becoming a serial killer? You should know, nuns have found me hard to kill in the past,” Ava jokes half-heartedly.

The joke lands painfully on Beatrice’s heart. A sharp reminder of the other people in Ava’s life that had failed and betrayed her. She vows to herself again to be and do whatever Ava needs from her, no matter what it takes from her, to get this fixed. “I swear I would never try to kill you, Ava,” Beatrice says. She knows it came out far too seriously, but she couldn’t even joke about that. Never about that.

Ava clears her throat next to her. “Right, of course.”

They make the rest of the walk in silence. 

When they eventually reach the clearing Beatrice had found, the sun is just starting to heat the area. It wasn’t hot yet, but it would be in a few hours. Beatrice moves to the far side of the semi-circular clearing and sets down the bag of supplies she’d been carrying in a small patch of shade, positioning it how she’d planned. 

When she turns around, she finds Ava stretching slightly on the other side. Ava freezes and tenses when they make eye contact. 

They stare at each other across the clearing for a few minutes. Eventually, Ava frowns and slumps slightly. “Ok so what kind of training are we up here for anyway?”

Beatrice swallows, braces herself, and takes another half step away from Ava. She watches Ava tense, clearly waiting for a surprise training exercise to start. Beatrice holds herself extremely still, palms up. “We’re less here to train than we are to realign,” Beatrice starts. She sees Ava’s frown deepen, her stance slumping again, and rushes to continue. “Something has been wrong between us for the last couple of weeks. I know you have said that you are fine, that we are fine, but I realized I haven’t really been asking you with the appropriate time or space for you to respond in any way that you needed to to clear the issue.”

“What?” Ava asks. Her tone is high and surprised.

Beatrice powers on. “That is why we are here. No one will interrupt or hear us. You can yell or scream or cry as loud as you want. Address any issue, anything at all. You can use whatever means to relieve the frustration and stress this has caused.” 

“What?!” Ava says again. Tone even higher.

Beatrice gestures toward the bag she’d brought. When she set it down, she’d opened the top to reveal a stack of training clubs, staffs, knives, and swords. “You have all of these tools to use however you need to address this. I am here for whatever you need to address this. I will listen and take anything that you need, ok? Please Ava-”

“What?!” Ava says again, interrupting, louder and sharper. Her eyes briefly trailed to the bag, seemingly uncomprehendingly, before shooting back to Beatrice’s face, alarm now fully present. “What?” she asks again, as if stuck on that one word only.

“Please Ava,” Beatrice continues again, willing herself not to let Ava’s confused reaction deter her. “I will do anything needed to fix what has been wrong. I do not know what happened to make you feel as if you can’t trust me with this but I want to fix it. Please let me fix it.”

“I trust you,” Ava says immediately, like an impulse, like she didn’t even think before speaking. Beatrice has to swallow hard again as she watches Ava register what she said and shut her mouth sharply. 

She doesn’t give her the time to reconsider her words more. “Good. I trust you too, Ava,” she says. “But something has been wrong and you haven’t been letting me in. Please let me in, I want to fix it. I will do anything to fix it.”

Ava’s eyes flit toward the clubs again, just briefly, and Beatrice latches onto it. “Yes, you can grab those. Whatever you need to do to work this out, I am here for you. Would you prefer a spar or should I remain unarmed?”

What?! ” Ava’s eyes meet hers again and Beatrice’s breath stops as she sees a sheen of tears building there. Ava makes no move toward the bag. “I don’t understand, Bea. What are you expecting me to do here?” she says it harshly, but her face is nothing but confused and anguished.

“Whatever you need to. Whatever we need to do to fix it. I can take it. I will take it and do better, I swear.”

Beatrice ,” Ava hisses. Beatrice has to hold in the flinch at her tone and the use of her full name. “You don’t have to do anything, any of this. There’s nothing wrong. Nothing to fix. You don’t have to do this.”

Beatrice doesn’t dare chance taking a step closer to her, but she does turn out her palms more at her sides, keeping her stance loose and non-threatening in an attempt to appease the budding frustration she sees. She knows she’s messing this up and she needs to be better for Ava. “Please, Ava, I know there has been something wrong. You’ve been shutting me out. And I am so, so sorry for not catching it and addressing it sooner. I don’t know what happened, what I did, but I am begging you to let me fix it.”

“What?! You don’t have to do anything , you didn’t do anything , there’s nothing wrong,” Ava hisses again.

Beatrice ignores her. She locks her knees to tamp down the temptation to approach, to touch, and continues to plead instead. “Please Ava. You can tell me anything, whatever it was, and I will listen and let you get what you need to get out, and then I will do everything in my power to rectify it moving forward.”

Ava shakes her head.

Beatrice’s resolve starts to waver. She didn’t plan what to do if Ava didn’t take her up on this, if she wouldn’t let her fix it. She didn’t plan what to do if Ava’s faith in her was this far gone. “Whatever it is. You can scream it out or you can whisper it or you can punch it. I am here for you. I want to be here for you, if you’ll let me in again,” she begs.

Ava shakes her head. 

Beatrice’s heart stutters this time and she loses the last of the restraint holding her back internally. She simply couldn’t go back, go home , and continue to let things exist how they have been. She lets her dark thoughts start to spill through her lips without filter. “Is it me?” she asks. 

“What?” Ava gasps. Despite the shock, there is a hint of fear on her face and in her tone that Beatrice knows means she’s hit the right thread. 

That’s all it takes for the rest of her fears to spill out. “Did I do something? I swear you can tell me anything, anything at all, and I will take it seriously and rectify it, no matter what it is.”

Ava shakes her head again, tears slipping from her eyes. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, but doesn’t speak.

“Did-did I cross a line?” Beatrice pleads, unable to hide the crack and waver in her own voice as her tears start to spill as well. “Did I do something? Please tell me Ava. For days I have been trying to remember if I did something to make you uncomfortable but I can’t think of anything. Did I do something? Did I cross a line? I-I-I can start to sleep on the couch! I can stay on the other side of the room at all times. No matter where we are, I’ll stay at least 4 feet away at all times. I swear to only make contact with you if it is absolutely necessary in training or in a life threatening situation. You can trust me again. I-” her voice cracks and she finds herself suddenly unable to continue staring into Ava’s scared, confused, and horrified expression while she describes her own worst nightmare. 

She closes her eyes and lets her tears spill. It was Beatrice’s own personal hell. Being doomed to a future where her very presence is perceived as a danger by Ava. Where all of her actions are seen as predatory or suspicious, simply because of who she is. Because of a mistake she made that she can’t remember and didn’t catch. A precious trust broken, irreparably. She remembers how that had felt before, first when her friends at home had found out what she was and began shunning her. Then when the others at boarding school had sussed her out too. She’d learned to keep herself apart there, and everywhere forever after...until Ava at least. But none of it would hurt as bad as doing it for Ava now. She would, though. She’d tear herself to shreds for Ava if it meant Ava felt comfortable near her again. If she could feel safe. Maybe start to trust her again someday. If she proved she was worthy enough of keeping these promises again, then maybe she could earn it back. She’d probably never be allowed the goodbye kisses again. Or the casual touching and easy affection. But maybe the teasing, if she were lucky. She could live with Ava just being comfortable enough to banter with her again. That could be enough. 

Warm hands suddenly cup her cheeks and she startles slightly, opening her eyes immediately. She finds Ava, now standing only inches away and staring intently at her while cupping her face. Beatrice is terrified, so horribly terrified, about what Ava might be about to say, but she can’t help but revel in the warm, soft press of Ava’s skin on her face. It warms her all the way down to her bones, filling gaps she had only just begun to realize were empty. 

“You didn’t do anything,” Ava says firmly. 

Beatrice immediately opens her mouth to argue but Ava gently slides a thumb over her lips to keep her quiet. Beatrice shudders, down to the cells, at the contact.

“No, please, listen to me. Hear me. You didn’t do anything. You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing to make up, nothing to fix. You’ve done nothing wrong, Bea, I swear it,” Ava says. 

Beatrice searches her eyes desperately. She seems sincere. Her tone and words and actions all scream truth, but now that they’ve taken root it’s not going to be that easy to clear Beatrice of the conclusions she’d formed. “But you’ve been uncomfortable around me,” Beatrice argues.

Ava closes her eyes and lets out a deep breath. When she opens them again, there’s a resolve there, but also a heavy undercurrent of embarrassment that knocks the air out of Beatrice’s chest. 

“I don’t care how insignificant of an infraction you want to say it was, if you tell me what I did to make you look at me this way I will never do it again,” Beatrice says.

Ava shakes her head again, slowly and sadly, before using her hands to pull Beatrice into her chest for a tight hug. Beatrice is stiff, at first, but can’t help it when a moment later her body sinks into Ava’s on instinct. It was everything she’d been craving for days and she knew she’d be a fool to deprive herself of this gift from Ava, especially if it was the last. Ava’s hands clutch her. One wrapped so tightly around her back, fisting into her shirt near her shoulder, and the other coming up and around to hold the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as she grips. She feels safe. God help her, she feels loved.

Without thinking, her brain having shut down as soon as Ava pulled her forward, Beatrice lets herself lean even more of her weight forward, settling her chin heavier on Ava’s shoulder and letting out a deep, heavy sigh. 

Ava shivers. 

Beatrice freezes. 

In an instant, her mind catches back up to the situation and she realizes what a pathetic liar she’s become. She’d sworn to Ava that she could trust her again and as soon as Ava does, she immediately breaks that promise and makes her uncomfortable again.

Body still tight, Beatrice tries to pull back out of Ava’s grasp. 

At first Ava’s hold only tightens. “What’s wrong?” Ava whispers, inches from her ear. 

Beatrice has to hold down a full body shiver of her own as she tries to pull away a little harder. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to take advantage. I can do better.” 

Ava finally moves back to look at her face, but doesn’t release her. This is worse now though, Beatrice realizes, as Ava’s face swims into view just inches from her own, their bodies still entwined. She’s so close to her Beatrice has to force herself not to look down at her lips. 

“You haven’t done anything. Haven’t taken advantage of anything. I doubt you ever could,” Ava says solemnly. 

“I made you uncomfortable again. I felt it. You can tell me when I make a mistake like that. I will learn. I can get better. I will be safe for you again,” Beatrice says.

Ava lets out another deep breath. Beatrice feels it on her face and can’t suppress the shiver this time. Ava’s eyes cloud, like she’s thinking through something deeply, before she finally nods, bites her lip, and lets go of Beatrice entirely. Ava takes a half step back to put a little space between them again. She folds her hands in front of herself, fingers twitching anxiously, before she finally forces herself to meet Beatrice’s eyes again. 

Beatrice braces herself.

“I have been distancing myself but it’s not for the reason you’re thinking. I swear you have never done anything to make me uncomfortable. I’m the one that’s the problem. It’s foolish - I know it’s so, so foolish and I’m sorry, but when we first met and you would let me grab onto you or talk to you about anything or tease you or cuddle you, even though most of the time it clearly made you somewhat unsure or uncomfortable, I thought you were letting me do it because you wanted me to. I know it’s so stupid, but I convinced myself you liked it. I thought our bond was unique, special…maybe something more, and I liked that.” Ava dropped her gaze and paused for a moment.

Beatrice’s heart was pounding hard in her chest, begging to break free and land in Ava’s hands. She did love their bond. She wanted it to be special, more, beyond anything she’s ever wanted before. The idea of Ava returning those feelings was like every wish and prayer she’d ever made suddenly being answered. But Ava still seemed scared and unsure, and she had still been pulling away for a reason, so Beatrice held herself back from speaking. Ava clearly still had more to say.

Eventually, Ava continued. “I’m sorry, Bea. I was stupid and I didn’t realize. Not until the other day - do you remember that day the woman at the bar was hitting on you? You were clearly so uncomfortable. She was touching your arms and getting in your space and clearly flirting and you just looked so flustered while you were trying to serve her. I came over and sent her away, but then you turned and asked me why. When I said it was because you’d been uncomfortable, you looked back at me so innocently confused and said, ‘What does my comfort have anything to do with it? I had a job to do,’ and suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks. You’ve said it time and time again but I’ve never really listened. I should have listened. It is your duty to work with me. It is your job to be here with me, to support me. You let me do whatever I want, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes you, because it’s your job and you think your comfort doesn’t matter, that you don’t matter, unless you complete the job. I’m so sorry for not seeing sooner. Your comfort matters to me, Bea. You are the most important thing to me. I never would have done most of those things if I thought, if I realized. I never, ever want to make you uncomfortable again and I am so sorry for all of the times I have. So that’s why I’ve been pulling back. I will do everything I can to make your job here easier from here on out. I can’t promise I won’t still complain sometimes, especially about early trainings, but I can promise I will never do anything to intentionally cause you discomfort again. You don’t have to worry about that anymore, ok? And you never have to do anything like this again. I understand now, this is your job and I will behave accordingly.”

Beatrice is stunned. She couldn’t move or speak. She could feel her mouth was hanging open slightly, but she didn’t have enough brain power left to close it.

Ava waits, somewhat patiently, in front of her. Her hands fidget and twitch. She sways slightly, rocking back and forth on her heels and toes, but she waits and she doesn’t rush her. 

Eventually, Beatrice’s brain does kick back into gear. “I did like it,” she whispers.

Ava freezes, eyes wide. “What?” she says.

Beatrice’s body moves without her permission and she steps forward and reaches out to take Ava’s hands in her own. “I love our bond. I love the way you were with me, even when it made me uncomfortable. I did like it. You’re not just a job to me Ava, I care about you. I care about you a lot more than I’m supposed to.” 

Ava swallows. This time Beatrice doesn’t stop herself from letting her eyes drop down to her lips and then further down to follow the movement of her throat before finding their way back up to Ava’s eyes. Ava’s lips are parted slightly. Her eyes wide. 

“You do?” she asks.

Beatrice nods back seriously. 

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I love how you treat me. That’s why I was so desperate to fix it. Not for the job. I can’t imagine losing you or what we have together. What you mean to me.”

Ava swallows again. 

Beatrice’s eyes follow. This time when she returns to Ava’s face, there’s a slight smirk.

“Good, then,” Ava whispers. She steps forward into Beatrice and presses her head into the spot between her neck and shoulder. Her favorite spot. Beatrice’s favorite spot, too.

They stand, basking in each other’s comfort for long, long minutes. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been acting weird and worrying you,” Ava says eventually. 

“I’m sorry I gave you reason to,” Beatrice replies. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Ava says. She pulls her head back slightly again to look at Beatrice’s face. Her expression turns deadly serious and Beatrice feels her breath catch in her chest. “But don’t you ever, ever, offer to let me or anyone else verbally or physically abuse you to make up for something again. I don’t care what happened, I don’t care what it is, I need you to promise me you’ll never do that again. That killed me, Bea.”

Beatrice lets out a stuttering breath, the pressure in her chest finally releasing. “I can promise that.”

Ava smiles softly. This time her eyes find their way down to Beatrice’s lips. They hold for long moments. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know technically you’re still a nun,” Ava pauses as her eyes flick up to Beatrice’s for a moment before dropping back down. “But I really, really want to finally kiss your lips now.”

Beatrice feels her heart skip a few beats in her chest before jumping into overdrive. After a moment, just a moment, of hesitation, she leans forward and closes the distance between them herself. 

She was home.