Chapter Text
— a v a —
The next few weeks go by in some kind of blur.
Week 1 :
“Bea,” Ava scolds with a frown as she exits the steamy bathroom to find Beatrice staring at her computer screen. Ava rubs her towel against her freshly washed hair as she continues, “It’s really late, you can study some more tomorrow.”
A singular lamp on the desk and the dimmed computer screen are the only sources of light in the room, casting Beatrice’s shadow across several sections of the walls.
“Finals are less than a month away,” Beatrice points out tensely, scribbling a note onto the open notebook off to the side of her desk. Her eyes don’t meet Ava’s. In fact, she doesn't look in Ava’s direction at all. A slight frown finds its way to Ava’s face.
“Well, yeah. But that’s like, three whole weeks,” Ava huffs as she makes her way towards Beatrice, leaning down to wrap her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders and press a kiss against the side of her head, “You’ve been studying non-stop.”
Beatrice only hums in response, looking up at the screen and then back at her notes. She types a few things in some document. She’s fully enraptured in her school work, as she has been since the moment they got back to her apartment. It feels kind of like Ava doesn’t exist to her right now.
Ava deflates a bit, sighs, and unwraps from Beatrice's side, letting her hand trail across Beatrice’s collarbone as she removes herself.
But her wrist is caught by Beatrice’s hand before she gets very far. Ava turns to meet a concerned Beatrice, who gently tugs her back.
“Where are you going?” Beatrice asks, her brow furrowed.
Ava blinks and hesitates for a second. How does she explain how she’s feeling right now without seeming too needy? It’s practically impossible. Beatrice is obviously allowed time to herself. She doesn’t have to dote on Ava 24/7.
It’s just that with finals coming up, Beatrice has become some sort of work obsessed robot. They haven’t properly spent time together since their anniversary date night. And that was already 4 days ago at this point. Which doesn’t sound like much, but they had spent practically every free moment together for the past two months.
Now, Beatrice has become fully engrossed in her studies. It feels kind of like Ava has been put on a temporary backburner. And while she understands finals are important, she can’t help but feel a little bit hurt about it.
And she hates the fact that she compares this situation to JC.
Beatrice is nothing like him. That has been blindingly clear from the beginning. Even this moment now is proving that fact. JC wouldn’t have even noticed if she pulled away. JC would’ve found a way to make this an argument. JC would’ve -
“Ava?” Beatrice questions lightly, worry still prevalent in her face, “Is something wrong?”
Ava swallows and then whispers almost timidly, “You’re busy, Bea. I don’t wanna bother you.”
Beatrice softens immediately and turns her chair towards Ava. She pulls her closer and brackets her with her own legs before wrapping her arms around Ava’s waist. Ava’s hands settle on Beatrice’s shoulders.
They sit there like that for a few moments, Beatrice looking up at Ava with an incredibly fond look. But tinged with something else. Maybe, regret? Or guilt?
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice murmurs softly, letting her thumbs brush against the skin exposed by Ava’s shirt riding up slightly.
Ava shakes her head and moves one of her hands to scratch at the base of Beatrice’s neck, “You didn’t do anything.”
Beatrice closes her eyes and leans forward to kiss just below Ava’s sternum, letting her lips linger against the cloth of her shirt.
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice repeats as she looks back up at Ava, her apology flooding her gaze, “I get so wrapped up in the coursework and it floods my senses. You’re right, It’s late and I should stop for the night.”
Ava feels like her heart is being squeezed. JC would definitely never act like this. God , she loves this girl. She can’t stop the thought from entering her head as she looks down at Beatrice.
She gives a small, almost shy smile, “It’s okay Bea, I understand. I just don’t want to distract you.”
Beatrice shakes her head, “You could never distract me, Darling.” Ava has to stop herself from swooning at the pet name. It doesn’t matter how much she hears it, she loves it just the same every time.
God .
Beatrice continues, “You’re good for me, actually. Lilith always tells me that I get too in my head about school work. You help.”
If she needed any more comforting, that would’ve sealed the deal. But at this point, any insecurity is long gone. It started fading as soon as Beatrice wrapped herself around her, if she’s being honest.
“Ah, so that’s all I’m around for, huh?” Ava jokes, with a raise of her eyebrow, “To make sure you don’t work too hard?”
Beatrice smiles slyly, pulling Ava closer to her, “amongst other things.”
Ava shakes her head and leans down to press a slow, languid kiss against Beatrice’s lips. The first of many for the night.
Week 2 :
“Are you sure you want me in there, Ava?” Beatrice asks almost bashfully as they shut the doors to Beatrice’s car in Mary’s driveway. The rest of the band is already inside, noted by the line of cars already settled on the pavement.
Ava rounds the car and slips her hand into Beatrice’s easily, tugging her forward gently when she doesn’t move, “Of course, Bea. It’ll be fun!”
To her chagrin, Beatrice’s last class of the day had been canceled. Ava immediately invited her to spend her newly acquired free time watching the band practice. Was it a scheme created by Ava to spend more time with Beatrice and woo her with her impressive performance skills up close and personal? Maybe. But no one else has to know that.
Surprisingly, it didn’t take too much convincing for Beatrice to agree. She hadn’t even had any complaints.
Well, that is, until now.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” Beatrice mumbles, dragging along behind Ava and cutting down their walking speed significantly. She’s obviously nervous. Although, Ava isn’t too sure why.
She’s met the entire band multiple times. Beatrice knew Mary before she even met Ava. Camila and Beatrice have interacted more times than Ava can even count, seeing as their paths cross constantly at either of their apartments (Ava is pretty sure they’re considered friends now). Really Michael is the only one of the group that Beatrice hasn’t spent extensive time with.
“Oh, stop,” Ava rolls her eyes fondly before sending a calming smile over her shoulder, “Before Michael was part of the band, he used to sit and watch us literally every time we practiced. You’ll be fine.”
“Your friends won’t mind me being there?” Beatrice continues to try and find excuses as they finally make it to the front porch.
Ava shakes her head, “They pestered me about inviting you before we even told them we’re dating.”
“Won’t I distract you?”
Ava stops abruptly and turns so that Beatrice almost runs into her. Ava takes Beatrice’s other hand and squeezes, letting their arms swing side to side a few times, “Do you wanna talk about what’s making you feel anxious?” Her eyes search Beatrice’s face.
Beatrice is quiet for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. She lets out a frustrated sound before she speaks, “It’s stupid.”
“Hey,“ Ava furrows her brow and frowns, “Don’t say that.” She uses their conjoined hands to pull her girlfriend closer to her, forcing Beatrice’s hands to wrap around Ava’s back. Beatrice sighs and sets her forehead against Ava’s.
“I don’t know,” Beatrice starts as she pulls her head away from Ava’s, “I guess that I’ve just never really spent time with all of your friends before. Not like this. And not without Lilith.”
Sure she has… Right?
Ava tries to remember a time when Beatrice has interacted with the band for an extended period of time. She can probably count the instances on one hand. And without Lilith? The answer is definitely zero.
Ava makes a mental note to boost those numbers immediately.
“And this is your thing ,” Beatrice continues before Ava can say anything, “I don’t want you to feel like I’m invading every aspect of your life. You can have things that are just for you.”
“I asked you to come with me, Bea,” Ava disputes, confusion lacing her words.
“Yes, but was that just because you felt obligated because I was free?” Beatrice questions with a shrug.
“Of course not,” Ava responds with a shake of her head, a bit offended that the thought even crossed Beatrice’s mind in the first place, “I asked you to come because I want to spend more time with you. And I want to share this part of my life with you. I want you to be here. I want you with me all the time honestly.” Ava blushes a little bit, which lifts a small smile to the corner of Beatrice's lips, “Which sounds kinda cheesy and maybe a little bit clingy.” Beatrice raises an eyebrow at that comment.
Ava chuckles as she continues, “Okay, fine, it’s definitely clingy. But it’s true. I just wanna be with you.”
“I want to be with you all the time too,” Beatrice reassures quietly, her own blush rising up to her cheeks.
“Good,” Ava smiles and then adds, “and I don’t need to have this ‘thing’ just for me. I want you to be a part of everything, Bea. Okay? Anything and everything.”
Beatrice nods with a small smile, “Okay, anything and everything, Darling.” She leans forward to kiss the tip of Ava’s nose. Ava giggles in response, her heart absolutely swooning at the gentle expression of affection. Then,almost reluctantly, Ava pulls herself out of Beatrice’s arms.
“Alright. With that all settled,” Ava walks forward a few steps to place her hand on the knob of the front door, “You ready to witness the rehearsals of the best band in the history of the entire universe?” She wiggles her eyebrows at Beatrice who lets out a chuckle and shakes her head, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Ava pulls open the front door and leads them down a wide hallway to the door leading to the garage. Said door doesn’t do much to muffle the sounds from the band on the other side. Michael and Camila are taking the time to tune their instruments while Mary is tapping on her cymbals mindlessly. Even their voices travel through as they carry easy conversation.
Ava sends one final small smile back at Beatrice before pushing open the door.
The sound amplifies as the door swings open, only dying down when Ava clears her throat loudly. The rest of the band turns from their tasks, faces pulled into confusion by Ava’s announcement of her arrival. It’s not like she usually says anything when she shows up, but today is different.
There is a moment of quiet that makes Beatrice shuffle on her feet, a subtle nervous movement that Ava picks up. Suddenly, Camila makes a sound close to a squeal as she throws her bass onto its stand to rush towards Beatrice.
“Oh-” Beatrice huffs as Camila pulls her into a tight hug, the breath being startled out of her body, “Hello, Camila.” Ava chuckles at the strain in her voice. It shouldn’t be as endearing as she finds it. But Ava has been finding subtle ways to fall harder and harder for Beatrice, so it isn’t too much of a surprise.
“Ava didn’t tell us you’d be here!” Camila says excitedly as she pulls away, a wide smile planted on her face. She is practically bouncing in place. Camila has been asking Ava to invite Beatrice to practice for close to a month
“It was a surprise,” Ava butts in happily, wrapping an arm around Beatrice's shoulders.
“It was also incredibly last minute,” Beatrice points out as her own arm finds its way around Ava’s waist, “Class was canceled.”
The natural way they find each other now is one of the things Ava loves most about her relationship with Beatrice. How Beatrice now reacts to touch without anxiety. No worrying about what others think. No shrinking away from affection.
“Yeah, so I get her all to myself for the rest of the day,” Ava says before she smiles almost suggestively at Beatrice, who leans towards her to kiss the crown of her head. It’s almost out of place for the context, but Ava loves it.
“You sure do, Darling,” Beatrice responds softly. Camila giggles from a few feet away, a notable grin on her face. It seems Beatrice's charm doesn’t only work on Ava.
Mary spins one of her drumsticks in her hand, a sign of her waning patience, “Alright love birds, we actually have a practice to run.”
“Okay mom ,” Ava pulls at Beatrice’s arm, leading her to the wall of the garage where their couches sit empty.
“Should I cheer or something?” Beatrice asks under her breath once the rest of the band is out of direct earshot, and Ava knows that she's only half-joking, “What’s the etiquette?”
Ava pushes down on Beatrice’s shoulders lightly, forcing her onto one of the couches. Beatrice huffs as she drops down, sending an unamused glare up at her girlfriend. Anyone else might be intimidated, but Ava can see the small smile peeking out beneath the frown. “Just relax, baby,” Ava coos lowly before leaning down to place a lingering kiss on her cheek, almost at the corner of Beatrice’s mouth.
Then, she moves so that she can whisper directly into Beatrice’s ear, “ Relax . Just sit here and be good for me.” A wave of something akin to pride passes over her when she hears a stagger in Beatrice’s breath.
Then, with a wink, Ava makes her way towards her microphone. As she reaches the mic, she taps the front of it a few times, smiling when the sound travels through one of the amps on the floor.
“I see we have a beautiful crowd out there tonight,” Ava locks her eyes onto Beatrice as she leans into the microphone. She lets her gaze scan up and down Beatrice’s body as she bites her lip, “A really really beautiful crowd.” Beatrice, in response, shrinks into the couch cushions a little bit, that cute blush rising up to her cheeks.
“Alright,” Mary interrupts gruffly. Ava doesn't have to look over her shoulder to know that the drummer rolls her eyes. “Less flirting and more singing, Silva.”
Ava turns her head to look at Mary, leaning back slightly as she holds herself up with the mic stand. She shrugs with a playful smile on her face, as an idea pops into her head, “She’s kinda hot though.”
The time, Ava has the pleasure of watching Mary’s eyes roll to the back of her head, “Oh my-”
Camila smiles, picking up on the cue immediately and plucking out the starting chords of a song.
~ Now Playing : She’s Kinda Hot by 5 Seconds of Summer ~
Ava bobs her head back and forth for the intro, watching as Camila’s fingers slide across her fretboard for a few bars. As Mary’s drumstick connects to one of her cymbals, Ava’s mouth finds its way back in front of the microphone.
“My girlfriend's bitchin' 'cause I always sleep in
She's always screamin' when she's callin' her friend
She's kinda hot though”
Beatrice shakes her head from her spot on the couch, but her mouth is quirked up slightly at the corner. And Ava wants nothing more than to kiss that smile off of her face.
“Yeah, she's kinda hot though”
Camila leans over Ava's shoulder to reach the microphone, halfway yelling the next line into it.
“Just an itty bitty, little bit hot”
Ava pushes her roommate back to her spot with a giggle. Camila mouths “What?” as she falls back into place, her features holding a false innocence. Ava rolls her eyes with a smile before she continues.
“My shrink is telling me I got crazy dreams
She's also saying I got low self esteem
She's kinda hot though”
Beatrice’s jaw drops a little, as if offended, and Ava shrugs in response.
“Yeah, she's kinda hot though”
Beatrice plays along, crossing her arms in front of her chest and raising an eyebrow. Ava holds up her hands in surrender.
“Just a little bit, a little bit hot”
Beatrice rolls her eyes and God, Ava loves her.
“She put me on meds, she won't get out of my head
She's kinda hot though”
The sound of drumsticks tapping together enters the room just as Mary yells out :
“One, two, three, go”
Ava dances around to the heavy strums of Michael’s guitar, letting her hair fly carelessly around her face. The responding chuckle from Beatrice is so quiet beneath the music that only Ava would be able to notice it. It feels like the sound vibrates through her entire body.
And the smile that accompanies it when Ava’s eyes meet hers… Breathtaking.
Yeah. Ava wants Beatrice around her all the time.
For anything and everything.
— b e a t r i c e —
Week 3 :
“Will you tell me where we’re going yet?” Ava pesters from the passenger seat, eyes scanning the roads around them as if trying to map out their destination.
“I told you, It’s a surprise,” Beatrice smiles as she reaches over to squeeze Ava’s thigh once, “You wouldn’t want to ruin your own birthday present, would you?”
All Beatrice had told her beforehand was to wear comfortable clothes that she wouldn’t mind getting dirty. That, of course, spurred on several innuendos from Ava about how “messy” or “filthy” they would be getting tonight. Well, maybe only half-jokes if Beatrice is being honest.
Ava groans as she throws her head back, causing it to thump against the headrest, “Fine, keep your secrets. But I'm expecting you to make it up to me.”
Beatrice chuckles, and attempts to remove her hand from Ava’s thigh, before Ava grabs it and intertwines their fingers, effectively trapping her in place. Beatrice chances a glance at her girlfriend, finding a content look planted on her face.
She’s hoping that look stays there for the rest of the day, maybe even grows happier every so often.
Beatrice has been planning for Ava's birthday for a couple weeks now, determined to one up Ava’s anniversary dinner. She's pretty confident she’s succeeded. At the very least, she’s hopeful.
As they finally pull up to their destination, Beatrice watches Ava take in the space. It’s a small studio with floor to ceiling windows covering the entire front wall, showing off the contents within. Several small circular tables are scattered around the room, each with a stool set up beside them. Various clay bowls, vases, and cups are displayed along the walls.
Ava lights up, turning in her seat with a wide smile and bouncing up and down a little bit, “Pottery?”
Ava had once said that clay was one of the mediums she had never really gotten to work with. As an art major, she had made it one of her life goals to try everything at least once. And she’s tried quite a few. Charcoal, watercolor, pastels, chalk, photogray. The list goes on. But never pottery.
Until today.
Beatrice nods once, her own smile echoing Ava’s, “We’d better get inside, we’ll miss our class.”
Suddenly, Ava tips forward and kisses Beatrice’s cheek once, letting it linger before she starts peppering small kisses across her nose and up to her forehead, leaning further and further into Beatrice’s space. Beatrice wraps her arms around Ava’s back and surprises herself by giggling as the onslaught of kisses continue down to her neck.
“Okay, okay,” She catches her breath and plants her hands on Ava’s waist to push her lightly, “We really do have to go, Ava. We have a reservation.”
Ava lets herself be pushed away and excitedly exits the car. Beatrice follows suit, trailing after her girlfriend dutifully.
It’s only a few minutes later that both of them sit next to each other at separate tables, small mounds of clay settled on the wheels in front of them. Beatrice can’t help but stare at Ava, in her tan pottery apron, eyes sparkling with excitement as she watches the instructor take her own seat.
Ava, as if she can feel Beatrice’s eyes on her, turns her head and smiles at her, soft and so affectionate it almost hurts. Ava scoots her stool slightly so that their arms are able to brush, craving the physical contact. Beatrice can’t say that she wasn’t yearning for it as well.
“Thank you, Bea,” Ava says quietly, reaching out her pinky to graze against Beatrice’s. She opens her mouth as if she wants to say more, but then closes it again.
Beatrice links her own finger through Ava’s and leans forward to kiss her cheek softly before whispering in return, “Happy birthday, Ava.”
Soon enough, class is in session.
Ava is a natural of course, her hands molding the clay with ease, finding the correct pressure almost instantly. Beatrice, however, has a much harder time.
Her hands fumble and the structure she’s desperately trying to make wobbles helplessly as the wheel spins. She can’t tell if her clay is too wet or not wet enough. She’s pretty sure she got clay on her face somehow.
They’ve started with a cup, which should’ve been easy enough. But while Ava’s is symmetrical and even, a beautiful little cylinder which the instructor compliments as she walks around the room, Beatrice’s is too wide and somehow thick. The top of the cup is uneven and forms small waves around the rim.
She huffs as she attempts to straighten out the top section with her hands, but no matter how flat she lays her hands, it just won’t cooperate.
Suddenly, Beatrice feels a presence behind her. Hands move along her own against the clay, fingers sliding between her own to smooth out the edges.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Ava murmurs into Beatrice’s ear as she leans into her back, “It’s like Ghost.”
“What?” Beatrice is hardly able to keep her composure as she feels Ava’s breath against her neck.
“You know, Ghost. The movie?” Ava continues. If she knows the effect she’s having on Beatrice at the moment, she doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she sees Beatrice’s silence as a prompt to keep going, “Patrick Swayze? Demi Moore? Come on Bea, tell me you’ve seen Ghost.”
But Beatrice can’t focus on anything other than Ava guiding her fingers against the clay. Other than Ava’s chest pressed against her back. Other than Ava’s mouth so close to her ear. Other than Ava. Ava .
Ava drags her hands up to Beatrice’s wrists and plants a light kiss into Beatrice’s hair. The movement causes Beatrice’s hands to fumble again. Luckily, it doesn’t make the cup any worse, but it definitely doesn't help her situation. Beatrice groans as she pulls her hands away from the wheel, Ava’s hands being forced away as well.
“I give up,” Beatrice huffs as Ava pulls away slightly, with a small smile still dancing along her features.
“You did really good for your first time, Baby,” Ava encourages lightly. Beatrice narrows her eyes disbelievingly, causing Ava to giggle, “You did!”
“Nothing compared to yours,” Beatrice’s eyes find the perfect little cup Ava has made, sitting proudly on top of her wheel, “You’re a natural.”
“I have practice with other kinds of art. My hands know the general motions,” Ava says with a shrug, although her cheeks grow a little more read at the compliment.
“I guess I’m just not very good with my hands,” Beatrice frowns as she looks down at her palms.
Ava snorts, “I would highly oppose that statement, personally.”
“Wha-” Beatrice’s brow furrows slightly, then raises as the words click in her brain, “ Ava .” She looks around them quickly, scandalized. Luckily none of the other patrons pay them any mind, fully immersed in their own work or leaned towards their own partners.
Ava laughs before she shrugs, “I’m just telling the truth, Bea.”
Beatrice shakes her head, as if Ava’s antics have worn her out. But she feels the smile on her own face. “Go sit at your own wheel,” She chides, pushing lightly at Ava’s arm.
“Ooooo I like it when you get all bossy,” Ava muses as she instead leans forward again to attempt to kiss Beatrice, who turns her face away in defiance.
“ Baby ,” Ava whines with an overexaggerated pout, “Give me a kiss.” She leans in again and meets Beatrice’s cheek instead.
Ava gasps, her mouth dropping open in offense, “Hey! Kiss me now .”
“Who’s the bossy one now?” Beatrice raises one of her eyebrows, a smirk finding its way onto her face.
“Oh, shut up,” Ava says between a laugh before she leans forward one final time. Beatrice lets her kiss her this time, feeling Ava’s sigh as their lips brush against each other. Beatrice finds herself smiling into the kiss, smiling into the moment .
Ava pulls away, eyes sparkling, and Beatrice watches as her smile fades into something serious. Maybe serious isn't the word. Profound? Intense? Either way, she opens her mouth to speak, “Bea… I lo-”
She’s cut off by the instructor calling out a new set of instructions into the studio. Ava visibly winces, deflates and then smiles weakly before leaning forward to place one more kiss on Beatrice's forehead. It’s a set of emotions that immediately confuse Beatrice.
Ava moves to her own seat, letting her arm settle against Beatrice’s as she listens to their new task. But Beatrice’s brain won’t settle enough to pay attention to anything other than her own overthinking.
What was Ava about to say to her? What could’ve been so serious? What could’ve made that chain of reactions occur? Did she have a question? She couldn’t have been wanting to say something like… no.
No, that’s ridiculous.
She traces the profile of Ava’s face with her eyes. The slight furrow of her brow as she takes in new information. The way she chews on the inside of her lip a little bit, a telltale sign of her focus. The way the warm light reflects off of her eyes. Something tightens in Beatrice’s chest.
Oh god.
Ava turns her head and gives her another one of those incredibly affectionate smiles, her eyes soft and caring. loving .
Beatrice returns the smile, pushing down her sudden unexplained panic. That is for some other time. No need for any sudden declarations or conflicting feelings right now.
For now, it’s all about Ava’s birthday.
After the cup, the instructor shows them how to make a small bowl, then a vase. Beatrice doesn’t do much better with these than her first project, but Ava’s pieces are near perfect, and Beatrice cares more about the joy on Ava’s face than her own success.
With instructions to return in another 2 weeks to pick up their dried, glazed and fired pieces, Beatrice and Ava leave the studio, dirtied hands intertwined and swinging in between them.
“That was so fun,” Ava skips towards the car, pulling Beatrice along with her, “Thank you again, Bea.”
Beatrice smiles warmly, “The fun isn’t over yet.”
“It’s not?” Ava’s smile widens as they reach the passenger side of the car.
“We’ve only just begun, Darling,” Beatrice answers as she enters Ava’s space to place a kiss on her forehead. Then, she reaches to the side of Ava’s waist to pop open the car door. Ava moves to the side with a giggle as Beatrice swings open the door and bows politely.
“Oh, thank you my good sir,” Ava jokes before she steps into the car.
The ride to their next destination is quick, winding through familiar streets trading soft looks and humming along to songs that come through Ava’s aux.
Soon enough, the neon lights of the Cruciform Crust are visible through the windshield. Ava bounces in her seat slightly as they pull into the parking lot. “Yes!” She exclaims, with a fist pump, “I’ve been craving pizza.”
“I know, I heard you talking to Camila about it yesterday,” Beatrice puts the car into park and turns her head to say something else, before her words are snuffed out by Ava’s mouth on hers. It’s a bit of an awkward kiss, with Ava not being able to drop her smile. Their teeth bump against each other and Ava giggles.
As Ava pulls away from her, Beatrice returns the giggle, “What was that for?”
Ava shakes her head, eyes still bright and maybe even slightly teary, “You’re just really cute. And you listen. No one’s ever paid that much attention to me and that’s just really cute, I dunno.” She shrugs as though it isn’t a big deal.
Except that it is.
Ava deserves so much more than she’s been given. Beatrice knows that J.C. was a piece of shit to her, but every time she finds out new information of just how little Ava was cared for, it ignites a new hatred for the man.
Beatrice wants to give Ava anything she ever wants. She wants her to be happy and comfortable and she wants her to feel cared for. That’s all she ever wants for her. Fuck J.C. for making her think that she deserves anything less.
Ava’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, “Are we eating inside or taking it to go?”
“To go,” Beatrice answers quickly.
“You’ve got more plans then?” Ava wiggles her eyebrows and this time it’s Beatrice who leans forward to kiss her lightly.
“That’s right, Darling.”
10 minutes later, they’re on the road again. Beatrice is sure Ava can follow their path as they leave the parking lot with two personal pizzas settled onto Ava’s lap. They’ve driven this route to Beatrice’s apartment many times in the past three months.
Something lifts in Beatrice’s heart when Ava is the one to lead the way from the parking lot to her apartment. It shouldn’t affect her in the way it does. Ava is at Beatrice’s place more often than she is at her own, of course she would know where to go.
But there is something intimate about having someone so close to you that they know directions by heart. That they don’t have to think as they make their way to your home. That they know where all the silverware is and what shelf you keep your favorite snacks on. That they don’t hesitate with operating the water knobs in your shower.
Beatrice has never had something like this before. Sure, she dated Crimson for a while. But she was nothing like Ava. And she always wanted Beatrice to come to her. They never shared quiet nights snuggled up together on Beatrice’s bed. Or leaned into each other on the couch while Beatrice read. Or sat next to each other on the kitchen counter eating late night bowls of cereal.
And as she follows Ava through the hall to her apartment, she realizes that she’s never felt happier than she has while having Ava around her, integrating into her space and into her life - through anything and everything. And an overwhelming feeling washes over her as Ava stops at her apartment and turns on her heels, smiling wide as she waits for Beatrice to unlock the door.
It’s a feeling that, Beatrice thinks, is a lot like what people mention when they talk about love.
Beatrice takes a steadying breath as she fumbles the keys out of her pocket and unlocks the door. A loud meow greets them as the door swings open and Macaroni is standing perched on the kitchen counter, eagerly lifting his head to await pets.
Beatrice complies, running her hand from his head to his tail as she passes by towards the dining room table. He meows loudly at Ava as she passes with her hands full. “One second, Mac,” She says with a giggle, “My hands are a little f-”
Her words die off as she finally looks out towards the living room.
The couches have been pushed to the far walls, both covered by a thin layer of plastic. The coffee table and side tables have been moved to a different room, nowhere to be found. In the middle of the room, a large cavas drop cloth has been spread out. On top of it, a couple of painting canvases lay stacked on top of each other next to a wooden box filled with various jars of paint.
String lights have been strung across the walls, draping down in curves across the entire living room. The TV is playing the same crackling fireplace as their anniversary dinner less than a month ago. Soft music plays from the speakers, a mix of instrumentalized pop songs. Beatrice picks up the two wine glasses she had set out on the table and turns to hold them out towards Ava, “Wine?”
“Bea,” Ava murmurs softly, affection seeping into her tone as she walks towards Beatrice, setting the pizza boxes on the counter and ignoring the way that Macaroni immediately steps on top of them.
Ava wraps her arms around Beatrice's neck as she reaches her, pulling her down into a kiss. Beatrice hums as her own arms find their way around Ava’s back, with one glass gripped in each hand.
Ava tightens her grip, tugging Beatrice even closer as she deepens the kiss, running her tongue along Beatrice’s bottom lip. Beatrice answers without objection, letting Ava’s tongue trace against her teeth.
A moan exits one of their mouths, but it’s almost impossible to tell from who with the way their lips connect.
Despite her body telling her to keep going, to drag Ava to her bedroom and spend the rest of the night tangled in each other, Beatrice pulls away. Ava follows her, unphased as she slots their lips together again, stepping forwards until Beatrice’s back hits one of the dining chairs.
She grunts as the wood digs into her back and melts when Ava’s lips start to trail down to her neck. She lets out a shaky sigh as teeth brush against her pulse point.
“ Baby ,” Ava coos against her throat, sending goosebumps through Beatrice’s entire body.
“Ava, the paint-” another sigh, “The paintings.”
“We’ll get to them,” Ava responds unconvincingly, her voice low and sultry, before placing her lips against Beatrice’s skin again.
Beatrice pulls herself away once more, with a little more conviction this time. Ava pouts before Beatrice says, “Ava, we both know that if we keep going, those paintings aren’t going to be done and that pizza is going to get cold.”
Ava turns her head towards the counter, as if she’d forgotten the pizzas even existed. Macaroni mews in acknowledgement from his spot curled up on top of the warm boxes.
“I spent a lot of time setting this up for you,” Beatrice says softly to sweeten the deal. As Ava turns back to look at her again, eyes full of some unexplainable emotion, Beatrice continues, “I promise we’ll continue this later. I want to continue this later. But can you let me do this for you?”
Ava sighs dramatically and drops her head onto Beatrice's chest. “Fine, okay,” her words are muffled against fabric when she speaks, “Just cause you’re the most adorable girlfriend in the world.”
Beatrice hums and kisses the top of Ava’s head, “I think you have me beat on that one, Darling.”
Ava buries her head deeper into Beatrice’s chest with a groan, “ Beaaaa , you can’t say stuff like that if you’re wanting me to not take you to bed right now.”
Beatrice lets out a chuckle before she holds up the wine glasses on either side of them, Ava’s arms still wrapped tightly around her neck, “As I was saying: Wine?”
So they eat, leaned on the counter with their open pizza boxes between them, keeping in each other’s space as much as possible. Every so often they meet in the middle for a small kiss, not being able to keep off of each other for very long.
They take small sips of red wine between, the color staining their lips. Macaroni tries desperately to steal bites of pizza, but is waved away by Beatrice. She pretends to not notice when Ava drops a couple of small pieces of sausage for him to nibble on.
Eventually, the boxes are discarded and they find their way to the covered floor. They sit across from each other, canvases balanced on their laps and paintbrushes poised in their hands.
“I’ll warn you,” Beatrice starts as Ava starts twisting open a few of the paint jars, “I’m going to be very bad at this.”
Ava breathes out a laugh but doesn’t look up from her task, struggling with one of the tighter lids, “I’m sure you’ll do great, Baby.”
“If my earlier attempts at art are any indication, I really won’t,” Beatrice contradicts with a chuckle as she reaches over to take the jar from Ava, opening it rather quickly before handing it back.
Ava huffs indignantly, “I loosened it for you.”
“Mhm,” Beatrice nods with a small smirk on her face. Ava narrows her eyes but can’t push back the smile that raises onto her lips.
“Anyway,” Ava rolls her eyes, “No matter what your painting looks like, I’ll love it. I’m gonna hang it on our wall. Right there.” Ava turns to point to a blank section of the wall in the living room.
Beatrice tries to ignore the fact that she referred to them as “their” walls. She tries to ignore the flutter of her heart. She tries to ignore the sudden desire to call this apartment, or any apartment for that matter, “theirs.”
It’s too soon for all of that. Right?
Once again, she pushes away the staggering thoughts. Those are for some other time. Lilith would probably chide her for bottling up her feelings. But this is familiar. The way they are now is safe. It’s comfortable.
The rest is unknown. The rest is terrifying .
So instead of voicing anything going on in her head, Beatrice smiles softly, “Whatever you say, Ava.”
-
Ava insists on making their paintings a surprise to each other. She keeps her canvas propped up on her legs, letting the paint fall onto her lap as she works diligently. Beatrice attempts to do the same with her own piece, but she struggles with the coordination of holding the frame while painting.
Despite her difficulties, Beatrice is actually pretty proud of how her canvas is turning out. She is definitely better at this than she was at pottery. It's pretty simple though, green rolling hills cut by a small river in front of towering mountains, all encompassed with a classic blue background. She even remembered to leave space for clouds.
Every so often Beatrice puts down her paintbrush to pick up her wine glass and just observe Ava. It should say enough that Beatrice doesn’t even care that paint gets on her glass and covers both of their clothes.
Ava’s forehead is smudged with a thick yellow streak from where she had used the back of her hand to push the hair out of her eyes. Her eyebrows are drawn in concentration, eyes scanning her work as her paintbrush moves smoothly across the canvas. The pale lighting sits warmly on her skin.
She’s beautiful. So alarmingly, catastrophically beautiful. It never fails to catch Beatrice off guard.
Beatrice takes in a deep breath before she pulls her wine glass back up to her lips and takes another sip. This prompts Ava to look up from her painting with only her eyes, her head still tilted towards her canvas. The focused look on her face turns incredibly fond, melting into a soft smile as she looks at her girlfriend.
“What are you looking at?” Ava teases, one of her eyebrows lifting.
Beatrice answers without pause, “You.” She takes another sip of her drink, not breaking eye contact with Ava.
Ava shakes her head lightly, almost disbelievingly, “Shouldn’t you be painting?”
“I’m done,” Beatrice responds with a shrug. It’s not exactly a lie. The only things she would add are mostly unnecessary and might harm her piece more than they would help. But Ava doesn’t need to know that part.
“Oh, are you now?” Ava raises both of her eyebrows, still with her lips quirked up into a smile, “Let’s see it then.”
“We have to show each other at the same time,” Beatrice responds, holding her canvas closer to her, “Wasn’t that one of your rules?”
Ava tsks, “Such a stickler for rules, Bea. Come on, live a little.”
“This rule breaking would only be beneficial to you,” Beatrice responds before pointedly taking a sip of her wine.
“Fine, show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” Ava says with a wink, not letting the innuendo pass her by.
Beatrice narrows her eyes at Ava for a second before she gives in, “Alright. On 3 then.”
Ava nods seriously and shuffles in her spot, pulling herself closer to Beatrice, who sets her glass down next to her.
Beatrice starts the count, adjusting her grip on the frame of her painting with a sudden flood of nerves, “1… 2… 3!”
She spins her canvas, expecting for Ava to do the same. Instead, Ava keeps hers turned towards her as she leans forward to get a closer look at Beatrice painting.
“Hey!” Beatrice objects, pulling her piece back to her and hiding it away from Ava’s gaze, “You cheated!” Ava giggles while she leans forward in an attempt to sneak another look.
Beatrice slides the painting behind her back with a scowl, “No, you don’t get to see it anymore. Not until you show me yours.”
“It’s cute, Baby!” Ava coos as she tilts her head to try to catch another glance, “Just let me see.”
Beatrice pulls away farther and Ava giggles again, chasing after her, “Come on, Bea, just-”
Ava reaches out with one hand to pull on Beatrice’s arm, not noticing the paint splattered along her palm that is immediately pressed onto Beatrice’s skin. They gasp in unison as they realize what just happened. Ava pulls her hand away slowly to reveal a red and brown handprint proudly showing on Beatrice’s upper arm.
Beatrice's jaw drops as she turns her head slowly to Ava, who wears a similar expression for a few seconds until she breathes out a short laugh.
“You did not ,” Beatrice whispers in astonishment.
“I-” Ava starts before she bursts into a louder laugh, “I didn’t - mean to.” She uses the back of her hand to cover her mouth in an attempt to snuff out her laughter.
Beatrice narrows her eyes before she slowly places her painting face up next to her - “Wait, Bea…” - and dips two of her fingers into a jar of blue paint - “Bea. No.” - The same blue she had used for the sky of her painting - “Let’s talk this out, Baby.” - Beatrice raises up her hand and slowly reaches towards Ava - “Bea!” - Ava blocks her face with her arm, closing her eyes tightly, and Beatrice smears the paint across the newly exposed skin, from her wrist to her elbow.
Ava gasps as she pulls back her arm to survey the damage. Beatrice leans back and crosses her arms in front of her chest proudly, with a smug look on her face. In her revelry, she doesn’t even realize that Ava has also placed down her painting.
“Oh, I’m gonna get you for that,” Ava says as she dips her own fingers into the green paint. Beatrice doesn’t have time to react before Ava’s fingers are running down her cheek, leaving two long green streaks in their wake.
Beatrice doesn't waste time in collecting some of the yellow paint and returning the favor, adding it to the paint already smudged on Ava’s face. Ava giggles, not even attempting to stop her as the color drips down her cheek, instead she dips her own hand in more red paint.
And the battle begins. Paint is traded back and forth a few times. Purple and orange and pink as they tussle with each other, laughter overpowering the sound of the music.
Eventually, Ava tips too far forward and sends herself tumbling into Beatrice, knocking her onto her back, both of them in a fit of out of breath giggles. Ava adjusts to bracket Beatrice’s waist with her legs, hands in front of her in surrender.
“Okay, truce,” She suggests with a bright smile. Beatrice nods in return, although her paint splattered hands land on either side of Ava’s mostly exposed thighs, surely leaving blue and yellow handprints. But Ava doesn’t chide her, instead she just looks down at her and her smile fades again, similar to how it did at the pottery studio.
That intense, pensive look is back on her face. She sits there in silence for a few seconds, her eyes tracing Beatrice’s face. Finally, Ava leans forward to plant one of her hands next to Beatrice’s head, and the other she places slowly against Beatrice’s neck, planting her own handprint there on her skin before pulling her hand away.
Beatrice exhales shakily at the feeling as Ava’s eyes travel from Beatrice’s neck to her gaze. Beatrice loves when Ava’s eyes get like that, dark with lust and want. She wonders if her own eyes look the same, pupils blown and needy.
“You’re so beautiful, Bea,” Ava whispers as she leans down to kiss the opposite side of Beatrice’s neck. Beatrice’s grip tightens on Ava’s thighs.
There is no stopping this now. The pizza is eaten. The paintings are (mostly) done. All that’s left is this. Is them .
Ava’s breath hits Beatrice’s ear, “Can I take this off?” She pulls at the bottom of her shirt with the hand that had previously been pressed against her neck.
Beatrice nods and, because she knows Ava likes it when she voices what she wants, she adds, “Please, Ava… I need you.”
Ava takes in deep breath as she sits up and tugs at the shirt, helping Beatrice get it over her arms before she tosses it off to the side.
She settles against Beatrice’s waist again, moving slowly and meticulously. She presses her hand against Beatrice's stomach, lips parting as she sees another of her own handprints against her skin.
“ God , Bea,” Ava whispers under her breath. Goosebumps rise on Beatrice’s entire body as Ava says her name. She could hear her say her name for the rest of time and be content with that.
Ava leans down again, slowly and surely, and presses her lips against Beatrice’s. Beatrice hums against her just before Ava’s tongue runs along her bottom lip. She opens her mouth immediately and feels Ava’s tongue dip into her mouth.
Beatrice can taste the wine on her lips, and her kiss is almost as intoxicating.
Without breaking their kiss, Ava reaches down to unbutton Beatrice’s pants with practiced ease while Beatrice’s hands move from Ava’s thighs to start pulling at her shirt. Ava briefly breaks away to let Beatrice pull off her shirt before she is on her again.
As teeth scrape against Beatrice's bottom lip, her need reaches a boiling point. Her hips cant up into Ava’s, making a small gasp escape out of Ava’s mouth.
Clocking Beatrice's sudden desperateness, Ava starts her trek down Beatrice’s body. She kisses down Beatrice’s cheek, her neck, across her collarbone, the top hem of her sports bra, down her stomach. She takes a slightly longer moment around the handprint she had placed on Beatrice’s abdomen. She kisses the prints of her own fingertips and Beatrice swallows thickly as her hands find their way into Ava’s hair, paint already dried on her fingers.
Ava hums against Beatrice's skin in approval and Beatrice feels it shoot straight to her core. She bites down on her own lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape her mouth. It’s insane how quickly Ava makes her come undone.
Ava’s hands pull down at Beatrice’s belt loops, prompting Beatrice to lift her hips to let her slide them off, tossing them to join the rest of their clothes in a growing pile.
Hot breath hits the insides of Beatrice’s thighs as Ava settles her head between her legs. Kisses are placed against heated skin, starting soft and admiring before turning needy and drawn-out. Beatrice shivers as Ava lets her tongue drag across her inner-thigh, and groans when Ava pulls her head away.
“ Ava ,” Beatrice whines, breathless as her hand falls from where they had settled in Ava’s hair.
“Relax, Baby,” Ava replies lowly, voice tinged in a lustful want, as she tugs off Beatrice’s underwear. She moves slow, taking her time in letting the fabric brush down Beatrice’s legs. Beatrice gasps when the cool air hits her already soaking cunt.
Ava’s mouth quirks up into a small smile briefly as she looks down at her girlfriend, ready and wet for her. She runs her hands down Beatrice’s thighs reverently, breathing deeply. As cherished as this obvious appreciation makes her feel, It’s all taking too long for Beatrice’s preference, and she isn’t above begging.
“Ava, please,” She whispers, tilting her hips up desperately, “ Please .”
Ava’s smile broadens as she leans down again. Her breath brushes against wet heat when she speaks, “Your wish is my command.” If Beatrice was in a better state, she would roll her eyes.
Instead, she moans as Ava’s tongue runs a stripe through her pussy. Ava’s responding whimper, either from the taste or from Beatrice’s reaction, makes her legs twitch.
Ava gives another long, but slow lick, barely touching her clit before dragging back to repeat her actions. Beatrice’s legs go to tighten around Ava’s head, to give her some sort of leverage to push herself against Ava’s tongue. Ava’s hands, however, move to push against either one of Beatrice’s thighs, spreading her out for her.
Beatrice groans and tilts her head back, running the fingers of one of her hands through Ava’s hair and attempting to pull her closer. “More,” Beatrice breathes out, a barely there sound. But Ava hears. She always hears.
Ava dips her tongue into Beatrice's entrance briefly, causing an obscene sound to leave Beatrice’s mouth, before she drags herself up to her clit. Beatrice gasps as Ava’s lips finally wrap around the bundle of nerves.
Ava drops any previous intent to carry this out longer, immediately resolved to make Beatrice come as fast as possible. At least, that’s what Beatrice assumes with the way Ava’s pace changes. She flicks her tongue in all the right ways, she hums against Beatrice and tightens her grip against her thighs.
One of Beatrice’s hands tenses in Ava’s hair as the other one moves to grip Ava’s hand. Ava immediately responds, spreading out her fingers to lace them in between Beatrice’s. The breaking point is when Beatrice's eyes finally meet Ava’s again, staring at her intensely from between her thighs, dark and sultry.
She’s so breathtaking. So unbelievably beautiful. And she is Beatrice’s.
All mine.
“ Ava ,” Beatrice moans as her hips buck up. Ava doesn’t stop. In fact, she doubles down, running her tongue along Beatrice’s clit in tight circles. Beatrice’s hips tilt up again and full body shivers make their way through her.
She forgets to breathe just as Ava’s mouth moves down to lick at Beatrice entrance instead. Her breaths are chopped, exaggerated sounds that barely reach her lungs before they’re pushed out again rapidly.
Finally, Ava pushes her tongue inside of her, and Beatrice comes with a moan. Her fingers grip harder into Ava’s hair and on her hand. Ava continues to let her tongue slip in and out of Beatrice’s entrance, collecting the new wetness as Beatrice shudders in bursts, her orgasm still rocking through her.
When she feels the aftershocks fade off she tugs at Ava’s hair, signaling for her to pull away. Ava follows easily, lifting herself up and licking her lips. She wipes her chin, which had been dripping with moisture, and climbs back up Beatrice’s body, wasting no time in leaning down to kiss her.
Beatrice sighs into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Ava’s back to pull her down on top of her. Ava hums in response, settling herself into Beatrice’s embrace as she deepens the kiss.
Beatrice tastes herself on Ava's tongue as they brush against each other. And all she can think about, as her head clears from some post-orgasmic bliss, is returning the favor.
Ava breaks the kiss and looks between Beatrice’s eyes with a soft smile. “Hi,” she whispers into the small amount of space between them.
Beatrice huffs out a laugh before she responds, “Hello.”
Ava glances down to their bodies pressed against each other, both still wearing a bra and Ava still wearing her shorts.
“Why are we wearing clothes right now?” Ava questions with a teasing raise of her eyebrow.
Beatrice shrugs, “We still have time to get out of them.”
“Wow! How forward!” Ava gasps in mock surprise, “Are you assuming that we’re going again.”
“Oh, Darling,” Beatrice coos with a shake of her head, “We’ve only just gotten started.”
Ava’s eyes darken again, immediately invigorated. She leans down to kiss Beatrice again but is stopped by two fingers pressing against her lips, “But first, we really should get cleaned up.” Ava blinks and her eyes dart to Beatrice's cheek, as if just noticing the paint covering both of their bodies.
“And get rid of the rest of these clothes,” Beatrice adds before removing her fingers from Ava’s lips and leaning up to kiss her. Ava leans into the kiss, attempting to deepen it before Beatrice pulls away again.
“Come on. Up,” Beatrice instructs, pushing up on Ava’s waist to get her to move. Ava sighs but lets herself roll off of her girlfriend.
-
In the bathroom, Ava sits on the counter with a washrag in her hand, delicately brushing it against Beatrice’s cheek. They’re mostly clean at this point. Somehow they had managed to scrub off the paint from their own skin, trading heated glances at each other but keeping their hands to themselves.
That is, until Ava insisted on helping Beatrice wipe the streak of paint on her face. It’s a ruse, Beatrice is well aware, but she has no reason to deny it.
So now, Beatrice is bracketed between Ava’s legs, hands planted on the cool marble countertop on either side of her while Ava runs the warm towel down her cheek. Beatrice’s eyes stay on Ava’s, watching as she pretends to focus on her task.
She has a sudden urge to tell Ava how much she cares for her. To tell her how much she enjoys moments like these. To tell her how much she wants this all the time.
Instead she whispers, “You make me happy.” And she hopes that it’s enough to convey all of her feelings in a single sentence. She isn’t sure that it is.
Ava’s eyes quickly leave her cheek to lock with Beatrice’s gaze. “Yeah?” She responds almost shyly, dragging the washcloth down to Beatrice’s neck and holding it there.
Beatrice nods slowly, letting her eyes drop down to Ava’s lips before pulling back up again.
“You make me happy too, Bea,” Ava says quietly, leaning forward to kiss Beatrice sweetly before adding, “So s o happy.” She smiles before she leans in again, letting this kiss linger.
It heats up quickly. Beatrice's hands move from the counter to press against Ava’s waist, and Ava drops her washcloth in favor of wrapping her arms around Beatrice’s neck. Beatrice lets her teeth brush against Ava’s lip and the responding moan urges her on.
She slides her hands down farther, letting her fingers trail across Ava’s abdomen before they find their way to Ava’s shorts. She breaks the kiss to undo the button and zipper deftly.
While she works, Ava peppers hot kisses against her neck, introducing her tongue and teeth every so often. And as Beatrice pulls Ava’s shorts down, Ava bites on the lobe of Beatrice’s ear. “Bed,” she murmurs lustfully before biting on Beatrice’s neck once more.
“Your wish is my command,” Beatrice answers, reveling in the giggle that echoes off the walls as she hoists Ava off of the counter and into the bedroom.
Beatrice sets her down at the foot of the bed and Ava immediately starts crawling backward, urging Beatrice to follow after her. Once they reach the headboard, Beatrice starts kissing any exposed skin she can find as she reaches behind Ava to unclasp her bra.
It falls and Ava tosses it to the side just as Beatrice's mouth finds her nipple. She moans, then wastes no time in tugging at Beatrice’s sports bra.
Beatrice lifts her arms and breaks away from Ava’s chest only long enough for Ava to take off the offending garment.
“ Fuck ,” Ava breathes as her head tilts back and her back arches in an attempt to have Beatrice closer to her. “Touch me, Bea,” Ava continues urgently, grinding her hips up to find friction against Beatrice’s leg, “I need you to fuck me. Now.”
So Beatrice obliges.
She doesn’t even bother with taking off Ava’s underwear. She slides her hand down the front of them and runs her fingers through rough hair before they meet ridiculously wet heat.
“You’re so-,” Beatrice mutters as she feels just how wet Ava has become, “Ava, you’re dripping.”
“For you, Baby. All for you,” Ava babbles, bucking her hips up into Beatrice’s hand, “You drive me - ah - crazy.”
Beatrice’s breath staggers just before she pushes two fingers into Ava, finding almost no resistance. Ava cries out, her nails digging into Beatrice's shoulders, “Yes. Yes, Bea .”
Shudders pass through Beatrice's body as Ava moans her name. She starts a pace for the thrusts of her fingers, rather fast with the way she’s able to slide into Ava so easily.
Ava lets out unrepressed moans as Beatrice fucks her, mixing in Beatrice’s name with a myriad of curses.
“You’re so - fuck - so good, Bea,” Ava whines breathlessly. Beatrice leans down to kiss against Ava’s neck just as she moves her thumb to brush against Ava’s clit.
Ava gasps between her moans and lifts her hips higher, urging Beatrice on. Beatrice continues her kisses against Ava’s skin as she brings Ava closer and closer to the edge.
She feels Ava tighten against her fingers, chasing her quickly approaching orgasm. Beatrice quickens her pace, rubbing her thumb more insistently against Ava’s clit.
“Come for me, Ava,” Beatrice whispers into Ava’s ear lowly, “ Please .”
Ava practically squeaks out her next breath before she turns her head to capture Beatrice’s lips with her own. Beatrice follows without complaint, swallowing the moans that arise as Ava comes around her fingers.
Ava bucks beneath her as she rides out her high, shudders passing through her. Her chest heaves with deep breaths that she takes in between hot kisses.
The pulsing of Ava’s pussy slows and Beatrice is about to pull her fingers out to let Ava recover, when Ava starts grinding up on them again, slow but determined.
“Again,” Ava demands into her mouth, breath ragged and needy.
-
Beatrice watches as Ava makes her way towards the bathroom, hips swaying almost invitingly - tauntingly . As she pulls open the door, Ava turns her head and raises one eyebrow. A silent invitation.
“I’m coming, Darling,” Beatrice chuckles, still a little out of breath as she lets her head fall back onto her pillow, “Just give me a second.”
Ava sighs dramatically, “Fine, fine.” She leaves the door open as she moves to turn on the shower. “But it’s rude to keep the birthday girl waiting, you know?” Ava’s voice calls out over the sound of the running water. Beatrice chuckles before she taps on her phone screen to check the time.
Her eyes are immediately pulled to a text notification in the middle of her screen, right next to the contact that she avoids like the plague. The last name she wants to see at a time like this. Or ever really.
Mother.
“Fuck” Beatrice whispers as she sits up quickly, pulling her phone off the nightstand, “Shit.” Her hands are suddenly shaking as she opens the message.
Mother : Beatrice. We are expecting you at the property as soon as finals have ended. We will allow one extra day for you to pack, so as to not interrupt your studying, which you should be entirely focused on. We will require a full evaluation of your grades this term, which we expect to have improved from last year’s. As you are aware, you will be with us for two weeks, as is customary. Your sister’s husband will be joining us as well this year. Be on your best behaviour. He is very important to the future of your father’s company, and in relation, your own future. Do not be late.
“Fuck,” Beatrice repeats as she rereads the text. How could she have forgotten? Her annual trip home. Not that she would ever truly call the house she grew up in “home”.
She’ll be gone for two whole weeks. Two weeks away from Ava and her actual home. From this space they’ve created together.
Beatrice pushes down the sudden rise of anxiety she feels in her chest, taking in a few deep breaths. It’s fine. She’ll figure it out. All it is is two weeks and then she doesn’t have to worry about it. But what about Ava?
“Baby? It’s pretty lonely in here,” Ava calls out from the bathroom, as if on cue. Beatrice can imagine her pout and it temporarily pulls her out of her own head.
“Coming,” She returns, her voice cracking slightly. She locks her phone and replaces it on the nightstand before swinging herself off of her bed.
A trip to the UK is another thing added on to the list of worries for later. Today is all about Ava. Parents, conflicting feelings, confessions - none of that matters. Only Ava.
And right now, Ava is naked in Beatrice’s bathroom. Ava is waiting for her under a spray of warm water.
Beatrice would be a fool to let her mind linger on anything other than that.
So she goes to her.
And she wraps her arms around Ava from behind, pushing her front against her back. And she presses kisses on the back of Ava’s neck. And she breathes her in - the soft scent of her coconut shampoo. And she makes her come again, moans echoing off the tiles of the shower. And she holds her tighter. And she kisses her.
And she almost forgets that her mother even texted her at all.
— a v a —
A couple of days after Ava’s Birthday, she stares at her phone in her hand. Ava knows that she shouldn’t be nervous for this call, but her stomach tightens as her finger hovers over her mom’s contact.
She has a goal for today, outside of their scheduled catch up call. Today is that day she will 1) Tell Jillian about Beatrice and 2) ask if Beatrice can join Ava for a visit home during the summer. It’s a lot to unpack so suddenly but the increasing need that she’s felt to tell anyone and everyone about her girlfriend is overwhelming.
Ava has already decided that she wants Beatrice around her in every capacity. While she doesn’t necessarily require her mom’s blessing, she does want them to get along.
Ava wants Beatrice to get along with all of the people most important to her, since Beatrice herself is climbing that favorites list rather quickly. And she’s been doing perfectly so far. What’s one more addition?
After one final preparatory exhale, Ava taps the call button on the contact page.
She presses the phone against her ear and leans her back against the arm on the couch. Despite the fact that she’s about to talk to one of her favorite people on the planet, she feels a sudden anxious tightness in her chest. With each ring of the phone, the lump in her throat rises higher.
“Happy belated birthday!” Jillian Salvius’ voice suddenly rings into Ava’s ear.
The nerves leave Ava’s body almost immediately. The sound of her adoptive mother’s voice has a calming effect of no other. Not even Beatrice can compare.
Ava smiles, “Hi mom.”
“How are you, dear?” Jillian responds brightly, “ How was your birthday ?”
“Good! Lots of fun. How are you? How has work been?” Ava doesn’t bring up her mother’s work to others very often. Not that she’s embarrassed, quite the opposite. Jillian’s work in the technological advancement of the medical field is astounding. Any child would be proud to call Jillian Salvius their mother. Ava is no exception.
She has just directly witnessed the way that fact changes the perception people have. Michael is constantly praised for his mother’s work. He is given handouts, asked questions he doesn’t know the answer to, people try to get to their mom through him. He constantly feels the need to prove himself.
Ava has the slight advantage of not sharing their last name. Unless they’ve done an intense amount of research, not many people know of Jillian Salvius’ adopted child. Even if they do, they certainly wouldn’t know her name.
“Busy as always,” Jillian responds, Ava can picture her waving her hand dismissively, ” You know that Kristian always keeps me on my toes.”
Ava chuckles. Kristian Schaefer has worked with Jillian for as long as Ava can remember, before the idea of Arq-Tech was even fully developed.
Ava has always had a sneaking suspicion that Kristian is in love with Jillian, although to Ava’s knowledge, he’s never admitted it. Either way, with his near constant presence, he’s probably the closest Ava has ever had to a father figure.
“I’m sure he does,” Ava smirks as she lets a slight tease slip into her voice.
“ Oh, stop that ,” Jillian tsks at her through the phone, although her tone is more playful than scolding. Ava knows that she’s blushing.
Ava laughs, letting her head tip back against the couch. “I’m just saying, Mom!” She says between chuckles, “There are worse options in men.”
“ Speaking of men ,” Jillian’s tone turns a little more serious and Ava knows what’s coming, “ How are you on that front? The dating front, that is. ”
Ava had told Jillian about her break-up with JC the night that he cheated on her. She had called her in the dead of night and spoke through sobs while bundled up in her bed. Jillian threatened to storm up to campus the next morning. To get him taken off the Football team (As if he was ever let off the bench). To get him thrown out of ArqU.
As much as Ava was tempted to take her up on the offer, she really couldn’t be bothered. In the long run, JC hadn’t mattered that much to her. Especially not with Beatrice in the picture.
Ava smiles widely at the thought of her girlfriend. “Really good actually,” Ava responds, feeling a heat rush to her cheeks at the sheer happiness she feels when she thinks of Beatrice. It would be a little embarrassing if she wasn’t so used to the feeling now.
“ Oh ?” Jillian is obviously a bit surprised by this statement, if her voice is anything to go by, “ Tell me more .”
“I have a girlfriend,” Ava admits immediately. She wasn’t expecting it to come out so easy. Not that she was nervous for a bad reaction. Jillian had been nothing but supportive when Ava had come out to her as bisexual. But it had taken Ava almost a year to even bring JC up to her mom. He had only met her once, and that is an experience Ava never wants to relive.
But Beatrice. She’s different. She’s everything. And Ava wants her mom to know.
Jillian is silent for a moment, before her voice rings out loudly through the phone speaker, “ A girlfriend?! What is her name? Does she go to ArqU? What is her major? How old is she? How long have you been seeing each other? Is she pret- ”
“Okay! Okay!” Ava interrupts the onslaught of questions with a laugh, “One at a time!’
Her mother does not seem to find the humor in the situation, “ I have to know everything, Ava . This is no laughing matter .”
After a few moments, Ava’s laughter dies down and she catches her breath, “Okay, alright.” She sits up on the couch as she rambles off the answers to each of the questions, “Her name is Beatrice. She’s at ArqU for Finance with a minor in Literature. She’s 22. And we’ve been seeing each other for about 3 months now-”
“ Three months !” Jillian sounds exasperated, “And you’ve only just now told me?”
“To be fair,” Ava defends quickly, “We didn’t tell Mary and Michael until our two month anniversary. We were trying to take it slow.”
“ Trying ?” Jillian questions.
“Yeah, that didn’t work out very well,” Ava responds with a chuckle, “We’re kinda together all the time. I don’t think anybody was fooled.”
“ Tell me about her ,” her mother’s voice is more gentle now, with a sort of quiet understanding.
Ava flops back down onto the couch with an exaggerated sigh, “She’s so good, Mom. Just like, every day I’m blown away with how great she is. And she’s so sweet. And she makes me want to be sweet. She’s smart. She’s such a nerd and it’s the most adorable thing on the planet. She loves books and - Oh! - she’s from London! So she has this accent that’s like super ho-” Ava clears her throat, suddenly remembering she’s on the phone with her mom and probably shouldn’t mention how attractive she finds her girlfriend’s accent to be, “Super… cool…” Jillian scoffs, obviously not buying her correction, but Ava continues anyway.
“Anyway she just - She’s really good to me. And I'm really happy. I lov - “ Ava’s mouth runs faster than her brain can stop it. She pauses for a second and then sighs, “I really care about her, Mom.”
There is a silence that falls over the call for a few moments before Jillian speaks, “ I can tell, love .” Her voice is achingly tender and fond. It almost makes Ava want to cry.
“I want you to meet her,” Ava says softly, remembering the second part of her agenda, “I was thinking I could bring her home sometime during summer break?”
“ Of course, Ava ,” Jillian agrees instantly, “ I was going to demand that you bring her here if you didn’t offer. I would love to meet her .”
Ava smiles and lets out a relieved sound, “Okay, good.”
And their conversation drifts to other topics as Ava starts her debrief that has been months in the making.
— b e a t r i c e —
Week 4 :
Beatrice runs her hand up and down Ava’s arm idly, earning a satisfied hum of approval from a half-asleep Ava, who is tucked into Beatrice’s side. Her face is pressed into Beatrice’s bare shoulder, her lips placing small kisses against her skin.
Moments like these are the ones that Beatrice wishes she could stay in forever. Both blissed out from the evening’s ‘activities’, finding comfort in just being with one another. Breathing each other in and recharging.
She takes a deep breath in through her nose, pulling Ava impossibly closer to her side. Of course, Ava follows, wrapping her leg around Beatrice’s.
Beatrice wishes she could just lay here forever and never have to worry about anything ever again.
But her mind, as always, runs too fast.
Finals are next week. She’s been studying like crazy the past month, never feeling prepared enough.
Then, Summer break begins.
Then, the vacation back home. With her family.
A vacation she has yet to tell Ava about.
It’ll be two whole weeks away from Ava. Away from this safe space they’ve created together, and straight into the object of all of her anxieties.
Ava will be five thousand miles away. Over an ocean. In a completely different time zone.
Beatrice won’t be able to just curl up next to her when she inevitably starts to panic. She won’t have Ava there to squeeze her hand, or smile at her, or laugh.
She takes in another breath, this once a tiny bit shakier than the first.
And Ava notices, because of course she does. She always does.
Her head lifts up from Beatrice’s shoulder and her hand moves from Beatrice’s waist to settle on her chest.
“Baby?” Ava prompts softly, her thumb brushing against her collarbone, “You okay?”
Beatrice blinks at her. She debates lying. Debates saying she’s alright just so they can go back to their previous position. But she knows that won't help. It won’t fix anything and it won’t make it any easier.
So, she speaks.
“I have something to tell you,” Beatrice says just as quietly, her brow furrowing slightly, “Or, I mean, something to talk to you about.”
Ava frowns slightly, her own brow crinkling in worry, “Okay? What’s wrong?”
Beatrice turns her head slightly, allowing their noses to brush up against each other, “I'm going to be gone for a little while once summer break starts.”
Ava’s frown deepens, “What do you mean?”
“My parents texted me earlier this week,” Beatrice continues, bringing up her free hand to push a strand of hair behind Ava’s ear, a comforting gesture for the both of them, “They reminded me of a trip that we take every summer. A trip back home.”
“To London?” Ava asks, the confusion growing on her face. Beatrice nods in return.
“When do you leave?” Ava continues, “How long will you be gone?”
“I’ll have to leave the Saturday after finals,” Beatrice answers with a sigh, “I’ll be gone for two weeks.”
Ava lifts herself up abruptly, pressing her hand into the bed to keep herself steady as she looks down at Beatrice. Beatrice’s hand, which was previously draped around Ava’s shoulder, falls onto the mattress with a quiet thud. Ava’s face is still pulled into a frown as she says tensely, “That’s this Saturday, Beatrice. That’s not even a week from now.” Beatrice winces and Ava continues, “Two weeks? You’re gonna be gone for two weeks and you didn’t tell me till right now ? Right before finals?”
Beatrice opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something before closing it, not being able to find any words. She swallows.
“Bea, we’re hardly gonna be able to see each other this week and then you’re leaving ?” Ava shakes her head with an exasperated look on her face.
“I don’t want to,” Beatrice finally finds her voice, although it sounds a little more whiny than she’d like, “I have to.”
“You’re an adult, you can make your own decisions,” Ava retorts. Her tone isn’t exactly angry, maybe a mixture of hurt and confusion. But it definitely isn’t kind.
“I can’t make my own decisions when my parents' acceptance is the only thing allowing me to be here,” Beatrice responds sharply. She hates how much she sounds like her mother at that moment. How it is her mother’s words traveling through her mouth instead of her own.
“That’s bullshit, Beatrice, and you know it,” Ava rebukes, shaking her head slightly to prove her point.
“I don’t think it is,” Beatrice responds seriously, her face pulling into a frown as well. Ava scoffs as she scoots away from Beatrice slightly, unwrapping their legs from each other. Beatrice instantly misses the contact but doesn’t follow after her, as much as the pull in her chest tells her to.
“So you’re just gonna do whatever they tell you even if you don’t want to?” Ava’s tone is almost accusatory as she sits up fully, “Because, what? They’ll be mad at you?”
“That’s not-” Beatrice starts before she’s cut off.
“What is it then, Beatrice?” Ava is more frantic now, her hands flailing out to the sides in some sort of half shrug, “You’re excited to leave me here while you go vacationing in Britain?”
Something snaps in Beatrice's head at that moment. Ava doesn’t know anything. Ava doesn’t know about how horrible her parents have been to her. She hasn’t seen how they act first hand. Beatrice avoids bringing them up at all costs because of that.
Ava doesn’t know about the countless nights she would spend crying herself to sleep. She doesn’t know about the fear that haunted her every waking moment for her entire childhood. She doesn’t know how often her parents' words slither their way into her head any time she feels herself slip.
Ava has no idea what she’s talking about.
“Do you think I want to spend two weeks with my parents?” Beatrice continues before she can stop herself. Her voice starts raising, “I would much rather stay here with you than be with them. All I’ll be thinking about the entire time is getting back to you. They’ll berate me and they’ll tell me all the things I’m doing wrong and - and they’ll ask me if I’m still going to church. And no matter how well I do in my classes, they’ll tell me I need to get my grades up because they aren’t paying for me to waste my potential here.”
Ava’s anger dies down significantly as Beatrice speaks. Beatrice watches her features soften and it makes her own rage amplify. Burning and hot. Not at Ava - never at Ava - at her parents. At their short leash. At their distaste for their own daughter. At their refusal to allow her to live her life the way she wants to live it.
“Even worse,” Beatrice continues her rant breathlessly, her speech getting faster and losing its usual poise, “They’ll pester me about my love life. They’ll ask why I don’t have a boyfriend yet and I won’t be able to tell them about you. I want to tell them about you but I can’t. They’d attack me for it. For - for being with you - for being me - they’d - I don’t even know what they’d do if I - they - I can’t - ”
It’s then when she realizes she’s shaking. And she doesn’t realize that she’s crying until she feels Ava’s thumb brush against her cheek.
“Oh, Bea,” Ava whispers quietly. Where before she had been upset, instead there is understanding and some aching sadness lingering in her gaze. Her thumb continues soft strokes against Beatrice's cheek.
Beatrice blinks once and then tilts forward to fall into Ava’s chest. Arms wrap around her immediately as Ava pulls her closer.
And Beatrice lets herself cry. She lets herself be held by the person she cares about the most in the world. And she lets her whisper comforting words into her ear. And she lets her pepper soft kisses into her hair. And she lets her run her fingers up and down her back.
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice whispers into Ava’s neck once the tears have mostly stopped, “I should’ve told you sooner, I’m sorry.”
Ava shushes her gently, “It’s okay, Bea. I understand.”
“I don’t wanna go,” Beatrice repeats with a sniffle. Her voice sounds impossibly small, even to her own ears. She sounds too young and too vulnerable.
“I know baby,” Ava murmurs comfortingly, her hand rubbing large circles on Beatrice’s back, ”I know.”
-
After about 10 minutes of quiet cuddling and comforting, Ava’s tentative voice breaks through the silence that had settled over them, “Speaking of Summer, I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about too. It might be a little bit of a sensitive subject right now though.”
Beatrice’s head lifts off of Ava’s shoulder, a silent invitation to continue.
Ava swallows and then says, “I want to visit my mom this summer at some point, maybe stay a little while. It’s not set in stone or anything and it would probably only be a few days. But anyway umm…” Her voice trails off as she looks back and forth between Beatrice’s eyes, “I wanted to ask if you wanted to go with me?”
“Go - go with you?” Beatrice asks as her eyebrows raise “To your mother’s house?”
Ava nods slowly, searching Beatrice's face nervously. Beatrice blinks.
“To meet your mother?” She clarifies as her brow furrows. Ava nods again.
“I talked about you the other day and she said she wanted to meet you,” Ava shrugs to seem more casual than she is. However, her cover is almost immediately blown as her speech picks up speed, “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know it’s a lot so I understand if you don’t want to. She just brought it up and I told her I would ask you. I can just go visit her while you’re gone and you don’t have to go and we can just meet back here afterwards and forget anything happened and-”
Beatrice cuts her off by leaning forward and placing a soft kiss against her lips. Ava sighs, her shoulder’s losing their tension. The kiss is short and Ava chases Beatrice’s lips as she pulls away, her eyes still closed. Beatrice chuckles wetly, her eyes still puffy and red from her tears.
Ava opens her eyes and smiles softly, “Is that a yes?”
Beatrice takes in a deep breath and contemplates, biting the inside of her cheek idly. It’s definitely a sensitive subject at the moment, one that stings just a little bit.
Parents have always been a difficult topic for Beatrice, especially knowing the state of her own family bonds. She escaped her own parents as soon as she could, and even then she is still stuck under their watchful eyes.
But she knows not all parents are like that. Ava has never said anything bad about her mom. In fact, it has only even been good things. Ava even told her mom about Beatrice. And her mom wants to meet Beatrice.
She’s putting in an effort. She cares about her daughter’s happiness. She, presumably, doesn’t care that Ava is dating a woman, just that she is being cared for.
Ava hasn’t told Beatrice much about her childhood, but she knows enough to know that Jillian took her under her wing and cared for her just as she deserved to be cared for. That she never treated her anything less than a daughter by blood, maybe even better.
And Ava wants them to meet.
Just because Beatrice’s own parents are shit, doesn’t mean she has to avoid them all. Maybe it will help heal something in her after her trip to London. Maybe.
So, after a worrying silence, Beatrice nods, “Alright.”
“Yeah?” Ava questions, a hopeful look gracing her face. It’s breathtakingly adorable and Beatrice feels the overwhelming need to kiss her. But honestly, what else is new?
She smiles, “Yes, Ava. I’ll go.”
Ava beams, and Beatrice knows then that she made the right choice.