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Imogen, if nothing else, is subtle. If she’d had a lot of friends, they definitely would’ve said that about her.
Someone who’s not subtle would have created a playlist about gay pining for their best friend. They would have played it each and every time they hung out with said friend in the last two weeks. They would have sung along, hoping that their friend would get. the. fuckin’. hint.
So, of course, Imogen absolutely did not do that. She didn’t have it named Y’allternative. And she definitely wasn’t connecting her phone to her bluetooth speaker so it would be playing when Laudna got home.
But… if she did… she would be trying to time it so that she’s singing “Dress” by Taylor Swift in her new dress complete with corset and sheer sleeves when Laudna walks in the door.
Which would be happening any minute. She adjusts the circlet on her head to keep the front from falling down too much.
The first verse is just ending when there’s a knock at the door, quickly followed by it opening, and then Laudna’s voice comes down the hallway, “Oh, Imogen! Hello!”
“I’m in the kitchen, come on in,” Imogen calls behind her and then picks up the song.
It’s not that Imogen sings… well. It’s not bad, but it’s not good either. But Imogen had asked Laudna, months ago now, before this plan that was truly a terrible plan took root in her mind, and Laudna had said she sounded lovely and happy and she looked cute enjoying herself.
With that information, how could Imogen not orchestrate this?
She stirs the stew as she hears Laudna sweep down the hall toward her. The chorus starts as she wipes her hands and takes off the apron.
Their eyes meet just as Imogen breathlessly sings, "off."
Laudna smiles, innocent, happy to see her, and not paying any fuckin' attention to the words Imogen's singing.
She's so gods-damned cute, it hurts.
Laudna notices the new clothes, “You look splendid, darling, this outfit suits you so nicely!” Imogen blushes, but it’s less noticeable than it used to be, thanks to the scar growth and the red tinge that spread across her skin.
"Thanks, honey. Dinner is almost done, you want something to drink?"
Laudna considers, "I'm game for whatever you're having."
Imogen strolls over to the fridge, "I was thinking about some wine?"
"Sounds lovely," Laudna agrees easily. "You sounded lovely, too, with your singing," Laudna compliments her like it's as easy as breathing. "You really seem to like that song, right? By that popular lady? It feels like you're listening to it every time I see you," and Laudna laughs, like it's a casual, meaningless observation.
Like Imogen doesn't freeze with her hand around the bottle of Beaujolais she'd put in here this morning.
"Yeah, her voice is real nice," Imogen side-steps. And then because she is a disaster, "Talented lyricist, too."
Laudna hums, acknowledging Imogen's opinion. Imogen pulls the bottle out and goes back to pouring drinks.
"What song is this again?" Laudna asks, phone out as she leans against the kitchen island.
"Dress," Imogen answers automatically and watches Laudna type into her phone.
She opens the bottle clumsily, focusing too much on Laudna's facial expressions which start with her eyebrows furrowed before her eyes widen and then she's schooling her face into something unreadable.
Imogen finally finishes pouring them wine and brings them over to Laudna, sliding the glass in front of her hand, and then placing a platonic hand on Laudna's waist.
"So, how was your day?" Imogen asks, using that hand to lead Laudna over to the couch.
Laudna moves fluidly with her, sits down on the couch first before placing her arm along the back of it. Imogen drops softly into the space Laudna leaves for her, pressing against Laudna's side as the hand on the back of the couch comes to rest around Imogen's shoulder instead.
"Oh, you know, nothing too exciting. Pâté and I had maybe twenty customers the whole day." Laudna raises her glass to Imogen's so they can cheers.
"I let Pâté break a few coffee mugs just so I'd have something to mend in between book sales."
Imogen snorts, "Bet he enjoyed that."
Laudna nods sagely, "Yes, he can be a bit of a brat, but, you know, still my oldest friend."
Imogen nods, takes another sip.
"And how about you, how was your day?"
A sigh escapes her before she can stop it. She wants… well, she wants.
"It was alright, pretty standard. Did some chores, went for a ride, and then did some reading."
"Sounds like a nice day, I wish I could have joined you." Laudna briefly leans her head down to nudge comfortingly against Imogen before she pulls back.
Imogen rests her head against Laudna's shoulder, finding the right spot for the protruding bone to rest comfortably against her cheek. "Yeah, it would've been better with you around," she agrees.
They stay there like that long enough that Laudna’s hand starts idly drawing shapes against Imogen’s shoulder, brushing her long fingers along the thin material of her sleeves. Imogen can casually rest her arm along Laudna’s leg and drape her hand across Laudna’s knee.
It’s really nice. To sit there and relax and enjoy each other and their home.
When they finally decide to leave the comfort of the couch to refill their glasses and enjoy the dinner Imogen lovingly prepared, it is only with a bit of reluctance that Imogen follows Laudna back into the kitchen.
They’re at the table, Laudna is handing her a thick slice of bread as Imogen serves salad into her bowl, when Laudna asks, “Do you ever miss it?”
Imogen wracks her brain, worried she’d missed some preliminary information that would give the question enough context for her to answer it. “Miss what?” she says at last, admitting defeat.
“Being in my head,” Laudna answers, but it’s with a forced nonchalance, her focus on cutting her own slice of bread and not on Imogen’s face for the answer.
“Yes,” Imogen says, because it’s the truth.
Laudna nods. “Me too,” she breathes out, like if she says it quietly enough it doesn’t count as a confession. She clears her throat, speaks louder, “You know you’re welcome any time?”
Imogen nods. “Yeah, but Laudna, I wanna make sure you have your privacy. That, you know, your thoughts are yours alone and your choices, your decisions, aren’t influenced by me or what I could see happening in there.”
The smile Laudna gives her feels wistful. “I know, and I appreciate it. I do still miss having you up here, though,” she says, tapping her temple. “It was easier to sort out what I was thinking when you were helping me, when you could look at the mess that I struggle to put into words and help me make sense of it.”
Imogen must look crestfallen, must look heartbroken, there’s no way she couldn’t. “Oh sweetheart,” she says, “I can help you with that out loud.” She gets up and goes to kneel beside Laudna so she’s staring up into suddenly solemn black eyes. “Just say whatever’s on your mind and we can figure it out together.”
Laudna considers the offer, considers Imogen, for several long, drawn-out moments.
“I have a friend,” Laudna says, hesitantly. “Not you,” she hastens to add.
Imogen has a bad feeling about this, but she pushes it aside. She said she'd help Laudna sort it out, so she will.
"Alright…"
Laudna nods. "And they, well, they're being a bit confusing? Like, usually they communicate very well, but it feels like there's something they're trying to tell me and they just won't come out with it?"
Long fingers play with the ends of Laudna's hair. "They usually just tell me what's on their mind or what they're thinking and now it feels like I'm supposed to be guessing? Only I think I'm doing a bad job at it, because I really don't know what they're trying to tell me." Laudna's voice is low, tortured, guilt-ridden.
"I… see." Imogen says, because she does, because Laudna had never been good at lying to her, circlet or no circlet.
"I just, I feel like I'm failing them. I care for this person so much, I love them more than anything, and I just," Laudna takes a deep stuttering breath. "I don't know what to do."
"I'm so sorry, Laudna," Imogen breathes the words against Laudna's neck as she hugs her.
Imogen feels terrible. Horrific. Monstrous.
"It's not your fault," Laudna says thickly through some errant black tears that she wipes away hastily. She gives Imogen a weak smile. "I should probably just ask them, but I'm scared. It must be something really awful for them not to just talk to me about it."
"I hope it's not terrible," Imogen says, rubbing Laudna's back.
"Well, when I find out, I'll let you know," promises Laudna. "I'm so sorry, we should eat, I don't want your stew to get cold." And Imogen can just about watch Laudna stack the bricks of deflection up between them as Laudna pulls herself together and tries to help Imogen stand up.
Imogen is kneeling beside her, looking up into these sad, expressive, gorgeous eyes. Laudna is asking her to sit back down, telling her she'll be alright.
Like she's been waiting on the cable car between Spires to jump, Imogen takes Laudna's hand. Holds it. Let's it comfort her and give her strength.
"Can I kiss you?" Almost whispered into the inches between them. Imogen wants to close her eyes so she can't see Laudna's reaction, can't play it back when it hurts.
Laudna’s eyes widen, her eyes flit back and forth between each of Imogen’s. It would be incredibly endearing if it wasn’t totally gut-wrenching. She searches Imogen’s face.
“Alright?” she says, but it sounds like a thousand questions are bubbling below the surface. She must see something in Imogen’s face, because she nods absently once, and says again, more confidently, “Alright.”
“Alright?” Imogen checks, because she doesn’t want to let herself hope. Laudna nods again. Imogen gives her every chance to take it back. “So, I will.”
And she does, she raises her head and just before she closes her eyes, she sees Laudna’s eyes close too, her face coming down to meet Imogen’s.
Imogen grazes Laudna’s nose first and when she doesn’t pull away, she closes the last little bit of distance and presses her lips lightly to Laudna’s, feels the cool skin, the pliant flesh of her lips - not as dry as she’d thought they might be. She wants to press her lips more fully against Laudna’s, wants to hold them both there for at least the next hour, wants to get to know these lips better than her own.
But she doesn’t. She can be good, despite recent evidence. She pulls her face back slowly, breathing purposefully and deeply. When she thinks she’s several inches away, giving Laudna lots of room, she counts to three and then she opens her eyes, dread-filled and anxious that she’s ruined everything.
Laudna is looking at her like she hasn’t seen her before, her mouth opens but nothing comes out immediately. It takes a few seconds for Laudna to find the words she wants.
“Obviously I care for you, an immense deal,” Laudna begins and a stone drops in Imogen’s gut. She knew this would fuck things up, that she would fuck things up.
But there is still stuff that Imogen can do for her. “I know,” she says, already finding the words she’ll need to let Laudna off the hook.
“I don't - I don't know if you realize how much of an anchor you are for me,” Laudna chokes up, inky tears start falling. “Imogen, you make me better, and when you’re not around… I’m afraid, Imogen, I’m afraid I’m a bad person-”
“You’re not a bad person,” Imogen says immediately, vehemently. Like if there’s one thing she’s convinced of in this world, it is that Laudna is not a bad person. Laudna looks at her like she can’t believe Imogen is saying this.
“You’re not a bad person,” Imogen says again, reaching up to cup Laudna’s cheek. More tears escape Laudna’s eyes.
And then Laudna makes the few inches between them vanish and Imogen closes her eyes automatically in response, matches the new pressure of Laudna’s lips against hers.
It is Laudna who pulls away this time, and Imogen keeps her eyes closed for a moment more, trying to live an entire lifetime in the seconds their lips were pressed together, making a home in the memory in the depths of her mind.
Imogen looks at Laudna, rubs her cheek softly. “I have heard everything inside of you, Laudna, and you are not a bad person.” She leans forward and presses a kiss against Laudna’s forehead, straining a little to reach. “I called you my anchor, my tether. We’re that for each other. I love you, more than anything, and I never wanted to pressure you into anything.”
Laudna’s eyes dart between Imogen’s again and Laudna wrings her hands relentlessly and Imogen’s heart breaks.
“I am in love with you, Laudna, and you don’t need to be in love with me back. I just want to be with you in whatever capacity you want me in.” Imogen swallows and blinks back the tears that are starting to form. “But I think you deserve to know that you are wonderful, that you’re kind, you’re caring. That you’re capable of and deserving of being loved.”
Imogen loses the battle with her eyes and she starts crying, but she throws a smile in for Laudna’s sake.
“You’ve always been the best of us, Laud.”
“Imogen-” Laudna says, breathless. “You - you can’t love me.”
And Imogen laughs, because that is the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. Laudna frowns, almost like she wants to fight about it.
“I’m sorry, Laudna, I’m not laughing at you, I swear, but I can promise you that I do love you. Truly. With my whole being.”
“Imogen,” Laudna says again, and there’s something like despair and disappointment threaded through it. “I love you so much, I want you in my life forever, but you deserve so much more.”
Imogen is shaking her head. “You are everything, Laudna, you’re everything I want.” She places her hands on Laudna’s, putting an end to the anxious fidgeting.
“And it’s okay if you don’t want me like that, it is, but you’re all I’ve ever wanted.” Imogen brings Laudna’s hands to her mouth and presses a light kiss against the back of each.
“Do you still trust me?” Imogen asks.
“Of course,” Laudna answers.
Imogen reaches up and takes the circlet off. She sets it on the kitchen table.
Knock, knock. She pushes the thought against Laudna’s mind, which opens readily.
She catches fleeting thoughts the moment she enters, lots of self-doubt, guilt, fear. And tendrils of cautious delight, barely acknowledged hope that she knows Laudna is intentionally trying to keep small.
Let me show you. She doesn’t do anything more until Laudna gives her express consent.
Alright.
So she does, she pushes all the love she feels, all the moments she loves.
Laudna happily puppeting Pâté.
The feeling of her arms wrapped around Imogen after a nightmare.
Her joy when she bakes, covered in flour, excited to share her hard work with Imogen.
The comforting feeling of held hands walking down a city street.
Partying with the Hells at a tavern, but Imogen only has eyes for Laudna who’s enjoying the company, the music, the drink.
Laudna, checking in on Imogen, bringing her water, brewing her tea.
Memory after memory pushes through to Laudna from Imogen. They’re easy for Imogen to access, she thinks about them all the time, rests in the lake of her love for Laudna like she’s grown gills.
She ends with the feeling of the kiss, the one Laudna initiated.
When she opens her eyes, Laudna’s eyes are still closed. Imogen reaches out gently to wipe away some tears, pauses, “I’m just gonna wipe your tears.”
Laudna’s eyes open when Imogen touches her cheek.
“You… you really are in love with me?” Laudna asks, cautious, even though she’s seen the proof with her own eyes.
Imogen chuckles wetly. “I really am in love with you, Laudna.”
“Okay,” Laudna whispers. She smiles. It’s small, but it’s genuine and Imogen’s heart feels full. “I love you, too.”
Laudna sniffles. “I - we should probably actually eat, but you should know that I lied before,” Laudna admits. Imogen stiffens.
“I said it was about a friend that wasn’t you, but it was you, I’m sorry.”
Relief ripples through Imogen and laughter bubbles out of her. “I figured that out, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
“It was really confusing,” Laudna says, just a little bit defensive and maybe a touch sheepish.
“I’m sorry about that, I was trying to go for subtlety because I didn’t want to say anything and ruin what we have, but I should’ve just talked to you,” Imogen acknowledges.
“Well, we’re here now,” Laudna says.
And, look, Imogen doesn’t want to do it, but she has to. “And where is here, Laudna?” Just a little teasingly.
Laudna smiles, a little too wide, a little more like her usual self. “Why, at home, darling. Together. Eating stew and, I hope, doing a little more kissing.”
Imogen feels light and floaty and like she’s trapped a sun in her chest. “I think we can arrange that.” She stands up and leans down and in, like she’s going to fulfill that request immediately. Instead, she grabs the circlet and places it back on her head.
“Let’s eat and then maybe we can go back to cuddling on the couch, with a few kisses thrown in for good measure.”