Chapter Text
Everything else in the room was in disarray. The large carpet sprawled across the floor was already worn despite the housekeeper having just replaced it recently. Somewhere on the floor lay the expensive, custom-made lingerie set from La Perla, Italian brand that Sandrone had purchased months ago and worn just last night for this insufferably smug woman beside her.
Her gaze drifted to the lubricant still left uncapped, its lid tossed aside from when Columbina had used it the previous night, taking her time with the strap-on until Sandrone was a complete, breathless, completely wrecked mess. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, replaying none of it on purpose and all of it anyway.
And now, Sandrone lay completely bare, not a trace of the exquisite lingerie she had proudly shown off the night before, the very set that had nearly been destroyed because Columbina simply refused to be careful with anything that was not a volleyball.
Had Sandrone not spoken up, insisting that the delicate fabric was seconds away from giving, Columbina would have torn it apart without a single moment of hesitation or remorse and probably would have apologized about it later with that same unbothered smile.
Then she felt hands cupping her breasts from behind, warm and deliberate, and Columbina's voice came low against her ear.
"Good morning, baby."
"You have got to be kidding me."
Columbina turned her jaw gently but insistently toward her and their lips met before Sandrone could finish the thought. It was unhurried but loaded, the kind of kiss that made it very clear the morning was not going to be simple.
Sandrone pulled back half an inch. "We just woke up."
"I know."
"You did things to me last night."
"I know."
"Terrible things."
"You seemed to enjoy them."
"That is not the point—" Columbina kissed her again and Sandrone lost the argument entirely.
They moved together slowly, lips pressing and pulling with growing intent. Columbina's free hand curved possessively around Sandrone's breast, thumb tracing idle patterns across her skin that made thinking straight genuinely difficult. Sandrone's hand reached up to curl around the back of Columbina's neck, drawing her in, while her other hand pressed down over Columbina's, silently and furiously telling her to stay exactly where she was.
They kept kissing, slow and deep, until Columbina began shifting their positions with quiet, practiced intention. Her hands slid down to cup Sandrone's thighs, spreading them just enough to make her point without saying a word.
"You fucker." Sandrone huffed against her mouth, though the complaint carried far too much pleasure in it to land properly. "Are you not tired? At all? You did not sleep, Columbina. We did not sleep."
"I slept four hours."
"That is not sleeping, that is a nap."
"A very good nap." Columbina pulled back just enough to look at her, the corner of her mouth curving with zero remorse. "I am sorry that you are sexy and that I cannot help myself. It is a personal failing. I am working on it."
"You are not working on it at all."
"No," she agreed pleasantly. "I am really not. Because why would I."
Sandrone could already feel herself getting wet and the fact that her body was doing that without her permission was deeply irritating because this smug, insufferable woman would absolutely clock it and use it against her. Everything Columbina did in moments like this dismantled her completely and there was nothing she could do about it.
She bit her lip as Columbina dipped her head and began trailing kisses from her mouth to her jaw, down the curve of her neck, unhurried and deliberate, and further still as she slowly peeled the blanket away.
Pink nipples and full, heavy breasts met the warm morning light.
Columbina stopped.
Swallowed.
"Damn, Sandrone."
Sandrone stared at her. "Are you seriously doing this right now?"
"I cannot help it—"
"You have seen them. Multiple times. Last night alone you saw them several times."
"Yes but in the morning light they are just—" Columbina gestured vaguely, searching for a word that did not embarrass her further and finding none. "There is a quality to it."
"A quality."
"A morning quality. It is different."
"My boobs are the same boobs, Columbina. They do not change based on lighting."
"With respect, I disagree completely."
Sandrone reached up and shoved her shoulder. "If you are doing a quickie then do it faster or I will push you off entirely. I have cheerleading practice in three hours."
Columbina smiled, eyes half-lidded, and gave a single slow nod. She knew exactly what her options were. Do what Sandrone wants or spend the next several weeks outside her good graces holding wilting flowers and deeply regretting herself.
She remembered the last time she had made that mistake. Thinking she could push just a little further, tease just a little longer. Sandrone had told her to stop. She had not listened. So Sandrone had pushed her off, gotten up, and left without a single backward glance.
The weeks that followed had been humbling in a way Columbina did not enjoy thinking about. Flowers. Gifts. Showing up with her best behavior carefully assembled like armor that Sandrone saw through immediately. The cheer captain had zero interest in entertaining her until she had properly, thoroughly earned it back. It was a horror she had no intention of repeating. She just wanted to be near Sandrone. Wanted to watch her at practice from across the gym like the lovesick, slightly pathetic puppy she absolutely was and would never admit to being out loud.
She was not throwing that away again.
"Of course, of course. My sincerest apologies for my unprofessional behavior."
"Stop saying that." Sandrone cut her off flatly. "No talking. Just do it. I am not in the mood for your commentary right now."
She crossed her arms to make the point unmistakable.
"Okay. Okay, jeez. I will be quiet."
"What did you just say?"
"Nothing. I said nothing. I am already quiet."
Columbina got to work. Her hands returned to Sandrone's breasts, squeezing and kneading with slow deliberate attention until Sandrone's breathing changed entirely against her will. Then her fingers found her nipples and rolled them with just enough pressure to pull a moan out of her that was embarrassingly unguarded and Sandrone clearly resented herself for it. But her thighs were already falling open like her body had overruled every other opinion she had and Columbina smirked against her skin in a way that was going to go unaddressed.
Sandrone's hand drifted south on its own, fingers curling into the waistband of her panties.
Columbina caught her wrist without looking up.
"Not yet, baby. Let me enjoy these a little longer."
"Columbina I swear to god—"
"Just a little longer."
She used her mouth on them, thoroughly and unhurried, tongue circling and lips pulling until Sandrone's fingers were knotted in her hair and her thighs were trembling with the effort of not doing anything about it. Sandrone had a schedule. She had responsibilities. She was the cheer captain and she had somewhere to be in three hours.
She could not remember a single one of those things right now.
Columbina pressed back up and kissed her with a mouth that had entirely run out of patience, deep and wet and demanding, hips pressing down like a period at the end of a sentence. Their chests met and Columbina groaned low against her lips at the feeling of Sandrone's full breasts against her own, the difference between them frankly criminal and entirely consuming. She adjusted Sandrone's legs beneath her, slotting them together properly, and the friction that followed made them both go completely silent for one long, loaded beat.
"Still want me to hurry?" Columbina murmured against her mouth.
Sandrone's grip on her tightened.
"Shut up."
Columbina finally hooked her fingers into Sandrone's panties and dragged them down slowly, deliberately, like she was unwrapping something she had been thinking about since the moment she opened her eyes that morning. She tossed them somewhere on the floor without looking and sat back on her heels.
Then she reached for the pillow, hugged it to her chest, and looked down at Sandrone with eyes that had gone very dark and very focused.
"Touch yourself for me, Sandrone. Please."
The please was soft. Barely above a breath. Sandrone searched her face for a moment, jaw tight, something unreadable crossing her expression before she let out a short exhale through her nose.
"You better enjoy every single second of this," she said, voice coming out lower than she intended. "Or I will get up and walk out and you will never see these again." She gestured vaguely at herself.
"I will enjoy it. I already am and you have not even started."
Sandrone's hand moved.
One finger first, slow and deliberate, slipping inside as her lips parted and her breath caught audibly in the quiet room like she had not expected it to feel that good even though she absolutely had. She pressed deeper. The moan that followed was throaty and completely unfiltered and she briefly hated herself for it. Her free hand fisted into the sheets. A second finger joined and her back curved clean off the mattress, brows knitting together, expression caught somewhere between irritation and total surrender, tongue sliding out across her bottom lip without a single conscious thought behind it.
Columbina buried her teeth into the pillow.
"You are doing that on purpose," she said into the pillow, muffled and suffering.
Sandrone did not answer. She pressed her fingers deeper and the sound that came out of the room was obscene and she knew it and Columbina knew it and neither of them were pretending otherwise anymore. Her moans were getting looser, less guarded, her hips rolling into her own hand with a rhythm that had stopped being shy about itself entirely. Her tongue was doing something that should have been illegal. She was devastating and completely aware of it and that somehow made everything worse for Columbina in the absolute best way.
Columbina lasted maybe thirty more seconds.
She threw the pillow across the room, grabbed Sandrone's wrist, pulled her fingers free, and replaced them with her own two without a single moment of hesitation. Sandrone gasped sharply, hips jerking up to meet her before she even registered it happening, and Columbina curled them just right and watched her face like she was committing every detail of it to permanent memory.
Sandrone parted her thighs even wider without being asked and something in Columbina's chest short-circuited entirely. She was holding back. Actively, physically restraining herself from doing what she actually wanted to do which was to stop being reasonable and just completely ruin her. She was being a pervert. She was one hundred percent aware she was being a pervert.
FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.
She kept her pace slow and deliberate, jaw tight, which was taking genuine effort, completely unaware that Sandrone had been watching her face this whole time. Reading her the way she read everything. Quietly and completely.
Sandrone tilted her head.
"Hey." Softer than usual. "Are you hesitating?"
She reached up and cupped Columbina's face in both hands, thumbs resting gently against her cheeks, and the tenderness of it stopped Columbina cold. Sandrone did not do that often. Sandrone did not do that with just anyone and they both knew it.
"No," Columbina said, voice rougher than intended. "I am physically stopping myself from drilling my fingers inside you the way I actually want to."
Sandrone stared at her for exactly one second.
Then she giggled. Sudden and bright and completely unplanned, the kind that slipped out before she could grab it back, and Columbina went so starstruck she forgot what her hands were doing for three full seconds.
Then she kissed her. Deep and immediate, swallowing the tail end of that laugh, fingers curling and pushing deeper at the same time, finally letting herself move with actual intention behind it.
Sandrone broke away to breathe.
"Are your fingers injured?" Her voice was already fraying at the edges, barely holding itself together. "Move them faster. I thought you were a libero." Her breath caught hard as Columbina found her rhythm. "Always. Saving. The ball."
The moan that followed the last word was entirely involuntary.
Her whole body was dissolving into it now, hips rolling up to meet each thrust, the wet slick sounds filling the room making it completely impossible for either of them to pretend this was anything other than exactly what it was. She was soaked and Columbina knew and Sandrone knew that Columbina knew and somehow that knowledge made everything spiral faster.
"Yeah, baby." Columbina's voice dropped to barely a whisper against her ear, low and wrecked. "Do you like it?"
She pushed her fingers deeper on the question. Deliberately. Slowly enough to feel every second of it.
Sandrone's head dropped back against the pillow like her neck had resigned. Her back arched. Her mouth fell open.
"Fuck you," she breathed.
Columbina smiled against her jaw.
"You are welcome, baby."
"Open them wider, baby."
Sandrone obeyed immediately, parting her thighs without a word, and Columbina had to take a genuine moment because the sight in front of her was something else entirely. She was soaked. Completely, obscenely soaked, her pussy glistening and warm and right there, and Columbina felt her entire brain briefly disconnect from her body.
"Absolutely divine, baby." Her voice came out low and a little destroyed. "Good girl."
"Do not call me a good girl right now, I will kick you."
"Good girl."
Sandrone's hand twitched.
Columbina started pressing kisses along her leg before she could follow through on that threat, mouth dragging slowly up from her knee to her inner thigh, taking her time, lips grazing the soft trembling skin there until she was close enough to feel the heat radiating directly off her pussy. She paused there. Mouth hovering. Every exhale landed exactly where Sandrone wanted it and absolutely nowhere useful.
She looked at it. Just looked. With her whole chest.
"The fuck are you staring at." Sandrone's voice cut down immediately, sharp and imperial. "You have seen it before, Columbina. You saw it last night. You saw it twenty minutes ago. It has not changed."
"It is just so pretty," Columbina said honestly, chin resting dangerously close to her inner thigh.
"I will pull your hair."
"You are already pulling my hair."
Sandrone looked down. She was in fact already pulling her hair. She loosened her grip slightly with great dignity.
"Time management," she said.
"I am appreciating the view—"
"Columbina."
"Okay, okay—"
"I have cheerleading prac—"
Columbina's mouth pressed against her pussy in one slow, open kiss and whatever Sandrone was saying simply ceased to exist.
The warmth and slick that hit her tongue was immediate and staggering and Columbina had to close her eyes for a second just to process it.
OH DAMN.
DAMN. DAMN. DAMN.
She licked a long, deliberate stripe up through her folds, feeling the wetness coat her tongue completely, and genuinely had to remind herself that breathing was still a requirement. Sandrone's hand shot up to cover her own mouth. The sound that escaped anyway was broken and embarrassingly loud and her face went hot about it immediately.
"That does not count," Sandrone said, muffled behind her own palm. "I was not ready."
Columbina smirked against her and got properly to work.
Her tongue found her clit and started flicking it in slow focused circles, tracing around it with the tip, learning the pressure point all over again like she had not had it memorized for six months. Sandrone's grip flew to her hair.
"Okay." Her voice came out strained and reluctant. "Okay that is. That is actually very good."
Columbina flicked harder.
"I said it was good! You do not need to prove a point right now—!"
She pressed deeper, tongue pushing past the surface into the slick heat beneath, pulling Sandrone's hips firmly toward her face with both hands because there was simply not enough of her and that was a problem Columbina intended to solve.
Sandrone's thighs clamped around her head.
Then immediately loosened.
"Sorry. Sorry, I did not mean to— please do not stop. Do not you dare stop, Columbina, I will actually end you—"
"Mhm." The sound vibrated directly against her and Sandrone's back left the mattress.
"Was that an mhm? Did you just mhm me while you are down there—? Fuck—!"
Her fingers twisted into Columbina's hair, hips rolling up with absolutely zero remaining shame, chasing every stroke of her tongue like her body had completely fired her pride and taken over operations.
Six months of this. Six months of memorizing the exact geography of what made Sandrone fall apart. Every sound catalogued, every reaction filed away. She knew every moan, every sharp inhale, every specific curse word that meant right there and every roll of the hips that meant deeper and do not you dare stop. And every single time Sandrone made a noise like that, like she was furious at how good it felt, it made Columbina want to take her further apart just to see what was underneath.
Her tongue moved in long strokes, up and down, down and up, then back to tight circles on her clit before dipping back into her soaking wet pussy, relentless and unhurried at the same time, building something that had Sandrone's spine curving beautifully off the mattress.
"Columbina— hey—" Her voice cracked down the middle. "I am talking to you. Look at me when I am talking— oh. Oh that is. Okay do not look at me. Do not look at me, just keep doing that. Keep doing exactly that. Do not change one single thing, do you hear me—"
"Mhm."
"Stop mhm-ing me—! Oh my god—!"
Her head dropped back against the pillow. Her grip tightened to the point of genuinely pulling and she did not apologize for it this time.
"I have cheerleading practice," she breathed weakly at the ceiling. "I have cheerleading practice in three hours."
A pause.
Columbina's tongue pressed deeper.
"In three hours," Sandrone repeated, quieter, more to herself than anyone. "Plenty of time. That is plenty of time. We are completely fine."
She was not concerned about it at all anymore.
Then the strap was back on and Columbina was pushing inside her and Sandrone's whole body arched forward with a groan she did not even attempt to swallow.
The stretch was immediate and deep and absolutely everything. Her nails found Columbina's back without thinking, dragging down slowly as Columbina pushed further in, and the sound that tore out of her throat was embarrassingly raw. Her full breasts pressed against Columbina's chest with the first thrust, soft and heavy, and she felt every single movement with every roll of Columbina's hips.
Columbina looked down at her, already moving, already finding a pace, and had the absolute audacity to wink.
"You have no idea," Columbina said, voice low and rough, "how long I have been thinking about this since I woke up."
Sandrone opened her mouth.
"Fuck—"
That was not what she meant to say.
"That is what I thought," Columbina said.
"I was going to say something—"
"You were going to say something?" She thrust forward and Sandrone's sentence evaporated completely. "Go ahead. I am listening."
Sandrone's back arched clean off the mattress, breasts bouncing heavily with the motion, nipples peaked and deeply flushed, her whole chest heaving like she could not pull in enough air fast enough. She looked devastating and she was fully aware of it and that somehow made everything worse for both of them. Her head tipped back, throat exposed, bottom lip caught between her teeth before another moan broke past it anyway.
"God, look at you." Columbina's voice dropped even lower, almost to herself, eyes dragging down Sandrone's body like she was trying to memorize all of it at once. "You are so breedable and sexy right now. I can’t believe that this is happening again."
"Shut up and move—"
"I am moving."
"Move more—"
Columbina rolled her hips harder and the words dissolved entirely.
She gripped Sandrone's hips and found a rhythm that had the headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall and the bed frame making its feelings known very loudly. The sounds filling the room were completely obscene. Sandrone could not stop making them and Columbina was in absolutely no rush to help her, too busy watching every bounce of her breasts, every helpless arch of her back, every expression crossing her face with the hungry, focused attention of someone coming completely apart at the seams themselves.
"You feel so good." She breathed it against Sandrone's neck, hips never once slowing. "Fuck, Sandrone. You feel so good it should be classified as something."
"Classified as what—"
"I do not know. Illegal. Dangerous. A public safety concern—"
"You are so—! Oh—!" Her nails raked down Columbina's back. "You are so annoying even right now—!"
"And yet your legs are wrapped around me."
They were in the Hyposelenia Residence. The housekeepers had long since made their peace with it. It was simply Tuesday. Possibly Wednesday. Nobody was keeping track.
Sandrone locked her legs around Columbina's waist and pulled her in deeper because if this was happening it was going to happen completely and properly with zero half measures. Her breasts rose and fell in heavy waves with every thrust, nipples flushed and oversensitive, her whole body rolling with the relentless momentum of Columbina's hips like she was being pulled under something warm and she had stopped trying to surface.
"How are you not tired?" Sandrone managed between moans, genuinely asking, nails finding her back again. "We slept four hours. You are a menace. You are an actual menace."
"I am running purely on you," Columbina said, completely seriously, not breaking rhythm once. "You are my energy source. Scientifically. I could not explain it another way if I tried."
"That is insane—"
"Completely insane, yes—"
"Do not stop." Her voice cracked down the middle. "Do not you dare stop."
"Stopping?" Columbina pressed deeper and Sandrone's head fell back. "I do not know what that word means. I have never heard of it."
Sandrone laughed and moaned at the same time and hated herself for it.
Columbina watched her from above, hips moving on something beyond intention now, voice strained and barely holding itself together. Sandrone's lips were parted and swollen, cheeks deeply flushed, the long line of her throat working around every moan she had stopped trying to contain. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, heavy and full, nipples catching the light, and Columbina stared down at her like she had been handed something she did not entirely deserve and was terrified of losing.
"You are doing this on purpose." Columbina's voice was strained now, barely holding it together herself, hips moving on pure instinct. "Looking like that on purpose. It is genuinely unfair, Sandrone, I am being serious—"
"I am literally just lying here—!"
"I know! That is the problem!"
"How is this my fault—!"
Then she pulled out, flipped Sandrone over with both hands, and bent her forward in one smooth motion.
The strap pushed back inside from behind in one slow, deliberate thrust and Sandrone's mouth dropped open against the sheets. The sound that came out of her was immediate and completely undignified and she had no capacity to care about that right now.
Then her eyes found the mirror.
The mirror that was directly, unavoidably, strategically in front of them. Showing everything. Her own face unraveling with each thrust, her breasts hanging heavy and swaying beneath her, bouncing forward with every push of Columbina's hips, nipples dragging against the sheets before swinging free again. Her hair was completely destroyed. Her lips were wrecked open. Her expression was nothing short of obscene and it was entirely, inescapably, undeniably hers.
"You." Her voice came out breathless and accusatory. "You positioned this bed like this on purpose."
Columbina thrust forward and Sandrone watched her own eyes flutter in the mirror.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Columbina said, not even slightly convincingly.
"You moved the mirror."
"The mirror has always been there."
"Columbina—"
"Look at yourself," she said softly, hips slowing into something deeper and more deliberate, voice dropping into something that was completely different from everything before it. "Just. Look."
Sandrone looked.
Her breasts swayed with each slow thrust, heavy and full, her face completely undone in a way she never let anyone see, and Columbina was watching her in the mirror with an expression that had no business being that tender in the middle of this. Her hips rolled forward, unhurried, deep, pressing in like she was trying to close every remaining distance between them.
"You are so beautiful." She said it like it physically hurt her. Like it had been sitting in her chest all morning and just fell out. Her hips rolled forward slow and deep and she pressed her lips to Sandrone's shoulder. "I am so crazy about you. It is genuinely a problem."
Sandrone felt something in her chest do something inconvenient.
"Do not say things like that when you are—" Her breath caught. "When we are in the middle of—"
"I know." Columbina kissed her shoulder again, softer. Her hips kept moving, unhurried and deep, like she had nowhere else to be. "I know. I just need you to see what I see."
Sandrone looked at their reflection and said nothing.
The "quickie" that was never a quickie ended after an hour and thirty minutes of being completely, thoroughly consumed by each other. Sandrone lay on top of her, both of them breathing like they had just finished a full practice, and Columbina slowly pulled out and set the strap aside without a word.
The room was quiet for the first time all morning.
"Are you tired, Sandy?" Columbina's voice came out genuinely soft, nothing smug about it, nothing teasing. She reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair gently behind Sandrone's ear like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Sandrone felt her heart do something slow and inconvenient.
She hated that. She loved that.
"Hey." Columbina tilted her head slightly to look at her better, eyes calm and warm. "Are you alright?"
There was no performance in it. No angle. She just wanted to know.
Sandrone felt herself go soft in a way that had nothing to do with being exhausted.
"I'm okay, Columbina."
She lowered her head and rested her cheek against the curve of Columbina's neck, and the breath that left her came out slow and long and utterly content, like a cat finding the warmest spot in the room and deciding to stay there.
Columbina melted. Her hand found Sandrone's hair and began moving through it in slow, gentle strokes.
"Did I tire you out, hmm?" She smiled against her temple, quiet and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.
"Yes, Columbina. I am tired." A small pause. "But I had a great time, okay?"
Columbina's hand stilled in her hair for just a moment, tender and careful.
"Mmmm? You didn't feel hurt anywhere?"
"No." Sandrone turned her face further into the curve of Columbina's neck, burrowing closer, and Columbina felt something in her chest fold completely open. She pressed her lips to Sandrone's temple, slow and wordless, like a question she already knew the answer to but asked anyway because she just needed to.
"I love this," Columbina murmured into her hair, voice so quiet it was almost just breath. "How we always end up here. Just soft with each other. Quiet." Her arms drew around her a little more securely, like she was holding something she was afraid of dropping. "You letting me hold you after. I think about it even when you are not around."
Sandrone was still for a moment.
"You are so corny, Columbina." Soft. No sharpness in it anywhere. "I am just tired. That is all it is."
"I know." Columbina did not push. She just continued moving her fingers through Sandrone's hair, slow and patient, like she had been practicing waiting for a very long time. A quiet exhale. "I just hope that someday you would let me hold you out there too. The way I hold you in here." She paused, genuinely gentle about it. "Even just walking beside you. Even just that."
She was not asking. She was just hoping out loud, carefully, the way someone does when they have learned not to expect anything but cannot quite stop wanting it either.
The room stayed quiet.
Sandrone did not say anything.
But she tucked herself closer and her hand found Columbina's and stayed there.
After that, they moved to the shower together. Which was, by this point, completely normal for them. Embarrassingly, comfortably normal, for two people who were supposed to be keeping things simple.
Columbina took it upon herself to clean Sandrone's back, scrubbing in slow, careful circles, occasionally dipping her nose toward her shoulder to breathe in the scent of her soap like she was not doing it, like it was accidental, like she was simply in the vicinity of it and could not help herself. She was not subtle about it. She simply hoped Sandrone was not paying attention.
Sandrone, for her part, worked shampoo through Columbina's hair with both hands, fingers massaging her scalp in a way that was far too gentle for someone who claimed this was nothing. Then the conditioner combed through carefully, methodically, like she had done it a hundred times and did not find it strange at all.
They did not talk much. The water ran warm between them.
Columbina kept looking at her. She could not stop. Water trailing down the clean lines of Sandrone's shoulders, the curve of her neck, the way the light caught her skin, and she was just. Standing there. Existing. Being completely and devastatingly herself without even trying. Columbina was in awe in the quiet, helpless way that she had learned to keep mostly to herself. The kind of feeling that did not need to be said out loud to be completely true. She just wanted to look. To stay here a little longer inside this moment without naming it.
Sandrone turned and caught her immediately.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" It was not even a question. She already knew and she wanted Columbina to know that she knew. "Are you being a pervert again, Columbina? What is next? You are going to kiss me? Slam me against the wall? Fuck me again right here?"
"What! No!" Columbina looked genuinely offended, hand to her chest. "My intentions are completely pure! I was simply looking!"
"Simply looking."
"Yes!"
"At me. In the shower."
"You are making it sound strange—"
"It is strange, Columbina."
"I just think you are beautiful!" It came out louder than she intended, bouncing off the tiles, and she immediately looked like she wanted the shower drain to swallow her whole. A beat of silence. "That is all. That is the whole thing. I was just looking because you are beautiful and I did not know that was a crime."
The water kept running.
Sandrone looked at her for a long moment, expression unreadable.
Then she turned back around.
"Wash my back again. You missed a spot."
Columbina exhaled quietly and reached for the scrub.
She was smiling and she made absolutely sure Sandrone could not see it.
Columbina was not just scrubbing. She was paying attention. Watching the way Sandrone's shoulders shifted when she hit a particular spot, reading the small sounds she made. Thorough, careful, because this was simply how things worked between them. Sandrone pointed and commanded and Columbina followed through every single time like a devoted, happily domesticated puppy.
Sandrone reached back and tapped her upper back without turning around.
"Up here."
"Here? This spot?"
"Yes. Scrub it properly please, not just surface level."
"I am scrubbing it properly!"
"You were scrubbing it like you were petting a dog."
"I was being gentle!"
"I did not ask for gentleness, I asked for properly."
Columbina scrubbed harder. "There. Happy?"
"Much better. Thank you."
A short silence. Columbina rinsed her off and found herself staring at Sandrone's back under the water, the way it caught the light, smooth and gleaming.
"Your back is so shiny, Sandrone." A small, earnest giggle. "I am a fan. I am genuinely such a big fan of your back."
Sandrone turned to look at her slowly. "What."
"It is so shiny! Like. Really shiny."
"It is shiny because my products are expensive, Columbina. That is what money does."
"No I know, I know. I am just saying. As a fan. Personally."
"You are a fan. Of my back."
"Of your whole body really but your back specifically right now yes."
"That is the corniest thing you have ever said to me."
"I have said cornier."
"I know and it is getting worse every time." Sandrone turned back around. "You are unbelievable."
"You always say that but you never actually send me away."
"I keep you around to wash my back. That is your only purpose here."
"And yet I do it so well that you keep inviting me back."
Dead silence.
"Scrub higher."
Columbina grinned at her back, completely victorious, and said nothing else.
Then it was Columbina's turn.
Sandrone reached up to get to her face and immediately realized the problem. She tried again. Still no.
"Can you just sit on the toilet bowl?" It was not a question. It was a verdict. "I cannot reach you. You and your four completely unnecessary extra inches, I swear to god."
Columbina burst out laughing but sat down immediately without argument, folding herself down to a manageable height, and looked up at Sandrone with an expression that was already too soft for this early in the morning.
Sandrone took her own beauty soap and began working it into Columbina's face with both hands, fingers moving in slow careful circles. She was gentle about it in a way she would never say out loud. Columbina's skin was unfairly soft and she treated it like it was, taking her time with every part of it without acknowledging that she was taking her time.
Columbina just watched her the entire time. Quietly. Warmly. Like she had nowhere else to look.
"Stop staring at me while I do this." Sandrone did not look up from her work.
"Beautiful, worth worshipping, and the sexiest woman alive."
"You are exaggerating. I look the same as always."
"Yes," Columbina agreed simply. "What did I say? Beautiful, worth worshipping, and the sexiest woman alive."
Sandrone's hands did not stop moving but her ears went pink.
She applied the soft scrub next, even more careful, fingertips feather light. Then she reached up to the top shelf for the moisturizer and smoothed it across Columbina's face in long unhurried strokes, thumbs grazing her cheekbones, her jaw, the bridge of her nose.
Columbina caught one of her hands mid-motion and very gently pressed her lips to the inside of her wrist.
Just once. Just briefly.
Sandrone froze for exactly two seconds.
"Do not do that while I am trying to do your skincare."
"Sorry." She did not sound sorry.
"Now we wait three minutes." Sandrone pulled her hand back and said it with full authority to cover the fact that her heart was doing something completely unnecessary.
She stood there.
Columbina looked up at her from the toilet seat with moisturizer still settling on her face and somehow still managed to look at her like she was the most interesting thing in the room.
"You are just going to stand there for three minutes."
"I am timing it."
"You could sit, you know."
"There is nowhere to sit, Columbina, it is a bathroom—"
Columbina's hands found her waist and pulled her down in one smooth motion and suddenly Sandrone was settled on her lap, Columbina's arms wrapped around her securely, chin resting on her shoulder like this was simply where she belonged and she was just returning to her.
"There," Columbina said quietly. "Now we wait."
Sandrone opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Columbina pressed her lips to her stomach once, soft and reverent, then again just below her ribs, slow and deliberate, like she was leaving something there on purpose. Not hungry. Not rushing anywhere. Just warm and close and entirely focused on her.
Sandrone stared straight ahead at the bathroom wall and said nothing.
Her hand found Columbina's arm around her waist and she did not move it away.
"Were you also like this with your ex girlfriends?"
The question landed in the middle of the quiet bathroom like something dropped from a great height. Columbina went completely still. Arms still around Sandrone's waist, chin still on her shoulder, but everything else just. Stopped.
Six months. It took six months for Sandrone to ask something like that. Six months of this, of whatever this was, before a single question about before.
Columbina opened her mouth.
"Did you date that woman named Lauma?" Sandrone continued, not looking at her, eyes fixed on the middle distance with the focused calm of someone who had been sitting on this for a while. "The taller one. With the." A short pause. "Big tits. Is that your type? Women with big tits?"
She said it the way she said everything, flat and unbothered on the surface. But she asked for it twice. She came back and asked it more specifically the second time, which meant she actually wanted to know, which meant something had been sitting in her chest about it and had finally found its way out.
"Answer me, Columbina." Her voice dropped quieter. "Do not just look at me like that."
Columbina was absolutely looking at her like that. She could not help it. Because Sandrone was on her lap in a warm damp bathroom asking about her exes for the very first time in six months and trying to make it sound like a casual inquiry and failing completely and being so endearing about the failing that Columbina could barely form words.
"How did you even know about Lauma?"
Sandrone shifted to look at her properly. "What do you mean, how did I know? It was all over campus. You are this volleyball libero star who can apparently have any girl she wants whenever she wants her. Everyone knows your business, Columbina. You are not as mysterious as you think."
"I never said I was mysterious—"
"Why are you actually asking about her?"
Columbina said it gently. No teasing in it. Just genuinely wanting to know.
Sandrone's eyes performed a full rotation. She turned away and started pressing one finger repeatedly into Columbina's collarbone, like a button she was trying to activate, then stopped doing that too because she had run out of things to do with her hands that were not answering the question.
"I am asking because I am curious! Curiosity is a fundamental human trait! People wonder about things and then they ask about them and that is called communication and it is healthy!"
"Sandrone."
"What."
"Why are you actually asking."
"I just said—"
"The real reason."
One beat. Two.
Sandrone looked at the wall.
"Because I do not like it," she said, quieter, the attitude mostly drained out of it, "that other girls had you before I even got the chance to."
The bathroom was completely silent except for the faint drip of the showerhead.
Columbina looked at her. Something in her chest opened slowly and quietly like a window letting in the first warm air of the morning.
Then Sandrone turned, took Columbina's face carefully in both hands, and kissed her. Not rushed. Not heated. Just soft and certain and deliberate, the way you kiss someone when words have run out and something else needs to be said instead. Her thumbs rested gently against Columbina's cheeks, still damp, moisturizer and all.
Columbina forgot every name she had ever known that was not Sandrone's.
Every single one. Gone.
Sandrone pulled back. Looked away immediately. Jaw tight.
"You are so irritating." Flat. Final. Brooking no argument. "I genuinely hate you so much."
Columbina was smiling so wide it was almost a problem.
"Dolphins or sharks?" she said, with the energy of someone changing the subject entirely on purpose and not even slightly ashamed of it.
Sandrone blinked. "What."
"Which do you prefer? Dolphins or sharks. Important question."
"Sharks." Zero hesitation. Immediate. "Obviously sharks. Why are you asking me about sharks right now."
"Just curious—"
"Do not." Sandrone's eyes came back sharp and direct. "You still have not answered me. Were you like this with your other girlfriends?" She let it sit for exactly one beat. "Especially Lauma."
The name landed with the exact specific weight she intended it to land with.
Columbina looked at her carefully. The smile settled into something quieter and more honest.
"No," she said. Simply. "I was not like this with anyone else."
Sandrone's expression did not move.
"Why not?"
Columbina looked at her like she had just been asked why water was wet. Like the answer was so obvious she was genuinely surprised it needed to be said.
Eventually they made it out of the Hyposelenia Residence and into Columbina's car, windows down, heading to the nearest fast food chain before the real world caught up with them. One hour before Sandrone needed to be at cheerleading practice. Roughly the same for Columbina.
They pulled up to the counter and Columbina stepped forward.
"I would like the fried chicken please, specifically the breast part." She said it to the cashier and then glanced sideways at Sandrone with a look that was completely innocent. "Large fries and a large soda."
"You and your breast part," Sandrone muttered.
"I am a simple woman with simple preferences."
"You are the least simple woman I have ever met."
Columbina ignored that with grace. "And for my girl," she continued to the cashier, "a tuna sandwich and water please. Just water."
Sandrone looked at her.
Columbina did not look back. Just put her card on the counter.
"How did you know my order?"
"Because I pay attention."
"You never pay attention. You forgot my birthday last month."
"I remembered it three days later and got you flowers."
"They were slightly wilted."
"They were rustic! They had character!" Columbina grabbed the tray and steered them toward a window seat. "I cannot believe you are still on about those flowers."
"I will be talking about those flowers for the rest of my life, Columbina."
They sat beside each other, shoulders touching, tray between them. Sandrone unwrapped her tuna sandwich with the focus of someone who took their meals seriously. Columbina attacked her fried chicken immediately.
"You got the breast part again," Sandrone observed.
"I always get the breast part."
"I know. I am just noting the pattern."
"I know what I want in life, Sandrone. Some people find that admirable." Columbina bit into it and pointed at Sandrone's sandwich. "How is the tuna?"
"It is a tuna sandwich, Columbina. It tastes like a tuna sandwich."
"Right but is it a good tuna sandwich?"
"It is fast food."
"So it is bad."
"I did not say that." Sandrone took another bite. "It is fine. It is good actually. Stop fishing for a thank you."
"I am not fishing for anything! I just wanted to know if you liked it!"
"I like it."
"Yeah?"
"Do not push it."
Columbina grinned and stole one of her own fries. They sat quietly for a moment, the comfortable kind, sunlight coming through the window, the morning noise of the restaurant around them.
"You have practice in an hour," Columbina said.
"I know. You have practice in an hour too."
"I know." A pause. "You are going to be great today."
Sandrone looked at her sideways. "I am great every day."
"I know that too."
Sandrone held her gaze for a moment. Then she leaned over and kissed her cheek, brief and quiet, and turned back to her sandwich like it was nothing.
Columbina sat very still.
"Was that a thank you for the tuna sandwich?"
"Do not ruin it."
"Okay." She picked up her soda. "Okay, yes. Noted."
She was smiling so wide she could barely drink it.
They decided to stay a little longer. Neither of them said it out loud. They just did not move toward the exit, which amounted to the same thing. Columbina could drive fast when she needed to. She had done it before for Sandrone and she would do it again without being asked because that was simply what she did. Always. Without complaint. Without keeping score.
The restaurant had thinned out around them. A quieter corner. Morning light coming in sideways. Easy to pretend they were just two people eating breakfast and not whatever it was they actually were.
Columbina shifted closer on the seat and Sandrone did not move away. Did not say anything sharp. Did not reach for a reason to create distance the way she normally would when things got too close to comfortable. She just let her get closer and looked out the window and said nothing.
From Sandrone, that was practically an open door.
Columbina noticed. She always noticed. That was the thing about her that Sandrone found the most difficult to deal with. She paid attention in a way that was quiet and consistent and never made a show of itself, the kind of attention that crept up on you and settled in before you realized what was happening.
She reached slowly toward her hand.
"I know what you are planning, Columbina."
Columbina pulled back immediately. Tucked her hands into her lap and looked at the table.
Sandrone watched her retreat and felt something flicker in her chest that she did not look at directly.
"Hey." She turned toward her. "Why did you pull away? I thought you wanted to do something."
"Nothing." Columbina looked at the window. Her ears were completely, visibly, traitorously red. "I was just sitting here."
Sandrone stared at her.
This woman. This popular, entirely sought-after volleyball libero who had been taking charge of her all of last night and again this morning and every time before that without exception. Her top. The person who showed up every single time Sandrone's name appeared on her phone without ever making her feel like a burden about it, without ever asking for more than what was offered, without ever once making it complicated.
That person. Ears red. Refusing to look at her. Because she had gotten shy over reaching for her hand.
They were not together. That was the agreement. No strings. No soft mornings in public. No reaching for each other across tables like it meant something. Just two people who were good at one thing and smart enough not to ruin it.
Sandrone kept telling herself that.
"Look at me," she said.
"I do not want to."
"Columbina. I will actually get mad."
Columbina looked at her immediately. Like the words had been connected directly to something in her chest and pulled. Her eyes were open and a little helpless and so sincere it was almost difficult to look at.
Something in Sandrone squeezed quietly and she ignored it.
Columbina was just sitting there looking at her with those eyes. Hands folded in her lap. The same hands that had held her with complete confidence this morning now sitting perfectly still because she did not want to overstep. Because she was waiting. Because despite everything, despite all of it, she was always waiting for Sandrone to decide how much was allowed.
There was something deeply unfair about that.
"I am looking," Columbina said softly.
"I can see that. I have eyes and I am not stupid."
"You told me to look at you."
"I know I told you to." Sandrone looked at her. At those ears. At that face. "What were you going to do? Before I caught you."
Columbina's jaw shifted slightly. "I was going to hold your hand."
"That is it?"
"That is it."
Sandrone looked at her for a long moment. At someone who had touched every part of her and was sitting here embarrassed about wanting to hold her hand. At someone who could walk into any room and have anyone in it and was sitting in a fast food restaurant with red ears over her.
She should let it go. She should redirect. She should remember the agreement and what it was for and why it worked.
Instead she reached over, took Columbina's hands, and placed them around her waist.
Then she put her own hands on either side of Columbina's face and looked at her directly.
"What did you want to do, hm?" Quiet. Just theirs. "You were getting so shy just now."
Something in Columbina's expression opened up completely. Warm and unguarded and a little overwhelmed, like Sandrone had handed her something she had not expected to be given. Then she pulled her in slowly, both arms wrapping around her fully, one hand spread flat and gentle against her back, and tucked her face into the curve of Sandrone's neck like that was simply where it belonged and it had taken this long to get back there.
Not urgent. Not hungry. Just holding her.
Like she was something worth holding carefully.
"This," Columbina said into her neck. Quiet and honest. "I just wanted to do this. That is the whole plan. That is all I wanted."
A beat. Her arms drew a little tighter.
"Pretty princess."
Sandrone stared at the ceiling.
She was not together with this person. They did not do this. This was not what they agreed to. The agreement was clean and uncomplicated and did not involve being held like this, like she was something precious, in a fast food restaurant on a Tuesday morning.
Her hands found their way into Columbina's hair and she told herself it was reflex.
"Do you do this with everyone," she asked quietly. It came out less casual than she intended.
Columbina pulled back just enough to look at her. Her expression was very serious. "No."
"Not with anyone?"
"Not with anyone." No hesitation. Not even a breath of it. "I do not even look at other people that are not named Sandrone Guillotin." A pause. The corner of her mouth moved. "Soon to be Sandrone Guillotin Hyposelenia, actually."
Sandrone stared at her. "Excuse me."
"You heard me."
"You are not putting your name on me."
"I am simply manifesting."
"You are delusional."
"I am optimistic. There is a difference." Columbina said it with complete composure, like she had not just said something that was currently doing significant damage to Sandrone's ability to think straight. "Mrs. Hyposelenia has a very nice ring to it. You cannot tell me it does not."
"I can and I will—"
"Sandrone Guillotin Hyposelenia." Columbina said it slowly. Deliberately. Like she was trying it on for size and finding it fitted perfectly. "See? Beautiful. Rolls right off the tongue."
"You are insane."
"About you specifically, yes."
Sandrone opened her mouth. Closed it. Looked away because Columbina was looking at her with that expression again and it was becoming genuinely difficult to maintain a reasonable position on anything.
"Why," she said finally. Quieter. The real question underneath all the other ones. "Why just me."
Columbina looked at her the way she sometimes did when Sandrone asked something that surprised her. Not because it was unexpected but because she could not understand how Sandrone did not already know the answer. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world and the fact that it needed to be said out loud was almost painful.
"Because there is no one like you," she said simply. Not a line. Not a performance. Just a fact she had accepted a long time ago and stopped arguing with. "There is no one who makes me want to be in a room the way you do. No one I think about the way I think about you." Her thumb moved once against Sandrone's waist, slow and absent, like it was doing it on its own. "There is no one I would drive fast for at any hour of the day without being asked. No one I would learn a lunch order for. No one I would sit on a toilet bowl for so they could wash my face." A small pause. "No one I would let call me insane and still want to put my name on."
Sandrone felt something shift in her chest. Warm and inconvenient and completely unwelcome.
"That last one is not romantic," she said. Her voice came out smaller than intended.
"The toilet bowl thing?"
"Yes."
"I thought it was very romantic actually. I folded myself in half for you. That is devotion."
"That is logistics."
"Romantic logistics." Columbina looked at her steadily. Warmly. With those eyes that never seemed to know how to look at Sandrone any other way except like she was worth looking at. "Is that too much?"
It was too much. It was exactly the right amount. It was the most inconvenient thing anyone had ever said to her in her entire life and she did not know what to do with a single word of it.
"You are so pathetic about me, it’s a mental illness at this point.” She said.
Then she leaned in and kissed her.
It started gentle. Just lips. Warm and unhurried, the kind of kiss that was not trying to go anywhere or prove anything, that was just itself. Sandrone kissed her back before she finished deciding to, hands sliding up the back of Columbina's neck and into her hair because her body had stopped consulting her about these things entirely.
Then Columbina's hand pressed flat and warm against the small of her back and drew her in, slow and deliberate, and the kiss deepened without announcement. Unhurried. Thorough. The kind of slow that was worse than fast because it was chosen. Because it meant Columbina was paying attention to every single second of it and wanted to. Because she kissed the way she looked at her, like Sandrone was worth taking time over, like there was nowhere else she would rather have her mouth be.
Sandrone's fingers curled into her hair.
Columbina made a soft sound against her and Sandrone felt it in her chest like a key turning somewhere she had not known was locked.
This was not what no strings felt like. She had no strings before and she knew what it felt like and it did not feel like being kissed by someone who held her face like it was something they were grateful for. It did not feel like this at all.
She pulled back.
Public. They were in public. That was the reason.
Columbina looked at her. Eyes soft. A little dazed. That expression she got that she probably did not know she was making, open and completely unguarded and trained entirely on Sandrone like everything else in the room had simply stopped existing.
It was a lot to be looked at like that.
"We are in public and this is inappropriate," Sandrone said. Slightly unsteady.
"I know, I am sorry." Columbina's hand stayed at her back for one more second before dropping gently. A pause. "Are you okay?"
"I am fine."
"You sure?" Genuinely asking. Eyes still doing that.
"Why do you always ask that?"
"Because I want to know." Simple. "Because it matters to me how you are. That is all."
Sandrone looked at her.
At this person who topped her without hesitation and asked if she was okay after kissing her in a fast food restaurant. Who ordered her food without being asked and drove fast when she needed to and pulled back the moment she thought she had overstepped. Who was sitting here with red ears over a hand that she had not even gotten to hold yet.
Deeply, profoundly, unfairly attractive. That was what Columbina was. Not just in the obvious way. In a quiet way. In the way that got under your skin before you noticed it was happening and then one Tuesday morning you were sitting in a fast food restaurant realizing it was already too late.
Sandrone straightened up. Picked up her water and looked out the window.
"We should go," she said.
"Yeah." Columbina stood and held out her hand without thinking about it, automatic and natural, the way she did everything involving Sandrone. Then seemed to catch herself. Started to lower it.
Sandrone took it.
Briefly. Just for a second. Just long enough to feel Columbina go very still beside her, like she was afraid to move in case it stopped.
Then she let go and walked toward the exit.
"Come on," she said over her shoulder. "You are driving."
Columbina followed immediately like a puppy.
"Hey, Sandrone."
Sandrone looked back.
Columbina was just standing there with her keys and that expression. That unbearable, genuine, completely undefended expression.
"Thank you for today," she said quietly. "All of it."
Sandrone held her gaze for one moment.
Then she turned back toward the door. "Pretty princess, you said."
"What?"
"You keep calling me that." She pushed the door open. "I do not hate it."
She walked out into the morning before Columbina could see her face.
Behind her she heard Columbina laugh, warm and surprised and delighted, the laugh of someone who had just been handed something small and was treating it like it was enormous.
Sandrone kept walking.
She was smiling and she was not going to do anything about that and everything was fine.
They reached the university athletic center right on time, which was entirely due to Columbina driving the way she did when Sandrone told her they were cutting it close. Focused. Efficient. One hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gear shift, and not a single complaint about the timeline.
She also insisted on walking Sandrone to the cheerleading team's area.
Sandrone did not tell her she did not have to. That was as close to an invitation as Columbina was going to get and she took it without making a thing of it.
They were halfway across the entrance when the voice arrived from a considerable distance, loud and completely unbothered about it.
"You are with Hyposelenia Hypothermia again?"
Sandrone closed her eyes briefly.
Furina came across the grounds at a pace that was somewhere between a walk and a run, waving at both of them with the energy of someone who had already had three coffees and a personal revelation before eight in the morning. Her uniform was already on. Her ponytail was immaculate. Her expression was the one she wore specifically when she had spotted an opportunity to say something and intended to fully take it.
She reached Sandrone first and wrapped both arms around her immediately, squeezing with genuine warmth before pulling back to look at her face with the focused assessment of a best friend who noticed everything and was going to comment on all of it.
"Oh my god." Furina's eyes went wide with theatrical delight. "You are glowing. You are actually glowing. Your skin. Your eyes. That is not from a face mask, Sandrone, I know your face mask results and this is not that."
"Furina—"
"I wonder," Furina continued, turning slowly to look at Columbina with a smile that was sweet and pointed in equal measure, "what on earth could have caused that."
Columbina looked back at her with the serene expression of someone who had absolutely nothing to hide and was choosing not to hide it.
"Furina," Sandrone said, pushing her shoulder gently, "whatever is happening in that one megabyte brain storage of yours right now, stop it."
"Hey!" Furina spun back around, deeply offended. "I am literally studying legal management. Do you know what that requires? Logical thinking. Critical analysis. Strategic reasoning—"
"One megabyte," Sandrone said.
"I will sue you."
"You do not have your degree yet."
"I am practicing."
Columbina laughed. A real one, warm and genuine, the kind that happened before she could decide whether to let it. She looked at Furina with something close to appreciation. "I like her."
"Do not encourage her," Sandrone said immediately.
"I think she is very funny."
"She is a menace."
"I am standing right here," Furina said pleasantly. Then she looked at Columbina with that smile again, the one that meant she was winding up for something. "So. Hyposelenia Hypothermia. What exactly were you and my best friend doing last night that has her walking in here looking like that."
"Furina."
"I am asking for wellness purposes. I am a concerned friend."
"You are a nosy friend."
"Those are the best kind." Furina crossed her arms and waited with the patience of someone who had learned that waiting Sandrone out was occasionally effective.
Columbina glanced at Sandrone once, quick and warm, and then looked back at Furina with a perfectly straight face.
"Cardio," she said. "We did cardio. For about an hour and a half. Very intense. Lots of calories burned. I would say we both gave it everything we had."
A beat of complete silence.
Furina stared at her.
Then she looked at Sandrone.
Sandrone was looking at a fixed point somewhere above everyone's heads with the expression of someone waiting for a natural disaster to pass.
"Cardio," Furina repeated.
"Very vigorous cardio," Columbina confirmed.
"An hour and a half."
"Give or take."
Furina turned back to Sandrone slowly. "An hour and a half of cardio."
"Do not."
"That is a very long cardio session, Sandrone."
"I swear to god, Furina—"
"Your stamina is genuinely impressive. Both of yours." She nodded at Columbina with the solemnity of someone presenting an award. "Respect. Truly. As an athlete myself I have enormous respect for that kind of commitment to physical fitness."
Columbina pressed her lips together.
Sandrone pointed at her. "Do not laugh."
"I am not laughing."
"You are about to."
"I am completely serious about fitness," Columbina said, and her voice only wavered slightly.
Furina beamed at both of them like she had won something. Which she had. "Well. I think it is wonderful that the two of you are staying active together." She patted Sandrone's arm. "Very healthy. Very good for the body."
"I am going to practice now," Sandrone said flatly.
"Of course. Very important. Save that energy." Furina smiled at Columbina over Sandrone's shoulder. "Nice to see you again, Hyposelenia Hypothermia."
"Always a pleasure," Columbina said warmly. "You are genuinely very funny, by the way. I mean that."
Furina pointed at her. "I like this one."
"Nobody asked," Sandrone said.
"I like her and I think you should keep her."
"Furina."
"I am just saying—"
"Go to practice."
"We have the same practice, Sandrone, I will walk with you—"
Sandrone turned to Columbina and looked at her for a moment. Behind them Furina was already pretending to be very interested in her phone, giving them approximately six inches of privacy and feeling very generous about it.
"Go," Sandrone said. Quieter now. "You are going to be late."
"I drive fast."
"You have already used that line today."
"It is still true." Columbina looked at her. That look again. Warm and steady and a little like she was trying to memorize something. "Have a good practice, pretty princess."
"Stop."
"You said you did not hate it."
"I said that under duress."
"You said you were getting into a car voluntarily."
Sandrone looked at her for one more second.
Then she reached up, straightened the collar of Columbina's jacket with both hands, smoothed it down once, and stepped back.
"Go," she said. Not unkindly.
Columbina smiled. Slow and private and entirely for Sandrone.
"I will see you after," she said.
"Yes, you will absolutely see me after, Columbina." Sandrone confirmed.
Columbina held her gaze for just a moment longer than necessary. Then she glanced over Sandrone's shoulder at Furina.
"Hey, Furina."
Furina looked up from her phone immediately. "Yes?"
"Do not look."
Furina stared at her. Then very slowly, with the energy of someone making an enormous personal sacrifice, she turned fully around and faced the opposite direction. "I am not looking. I am completely blind. I have never had eyes."
Columbina looked back at Sandrone.
Leaned in slightly. Close enough that her voice came out barely above a breath, low and private and just for her.
"Can I have a kiss?"
Sandrone looked at her. At this person who had just very politely asked. Who had told her best friend not to look. Who was standing here with those eyes and that voice asking like she was not entirely certain the answer would be yes and was asking anyway.
She kissed her.
Columbina's hand found her waist immediately, warm and sure, pulling her in gently, kissing her back with the particular softness of someone who had been given something they were grateful for. It was brief. It was supposed to be brief.
Sandrone started to pull back.
Columbina kissed her again.
Slower this time. Her other hand found her waist too, both of them pressing in at the small of her back like she was trying to close every remaining distance and was not entirely ready to stop. Sandrone made a small sound against her mouth that she immediately decided had not happened.
Then Columbina pulled back properly.
But her hands stayed. Warm at her waist. Not moving. Just holding on for one extra moment like she was negotiating with herself about letting go.
Then she pinched her waist.
Gently. Once. With a wink that should have been illegal and a smile that was so warm and so completely directed at Sandrone and nobody else that it was frankly a lot to deal with before nine in the morning.
"See you after," she murmured.
Then before Sandrone could recover enough to say anything back, Columbina dipped her head and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Then another one.
Then another, moving along her cheekbone with the enthusiasm of someone who had been given an inch and was absolutely taking several miles, each one soft and quick and completely unbothered about the situation.
Sandrone made a small noise. Somewhere between a laugh and something she could not name. Her hand came up and pushed weakly at Columbina's shoulder.
"Columbina—"
Another kiss. Her cheek. Her jaw. Back to her cheek.
"Columbina, we are—"
One more. Right at the corner of her mouth. Columbina was smiling too wide to make it land properly and somehow that made it worse.
"Okay," Sandrone said, with zero authority whatsoever. "Okay, you need to—"
Behind them there was a very loud, very sudden noise.
They both looked.
Furina had dropped her phone.
She was standing with both hands over her mouth, eyes enormous, staring at the two of them with the expression of someone whose one megabyte of brain storage had just been completely overloaded and was currently rebooting.
"I was not looking," she said, muffled behind her hands. "I was not looking and then I accidentally looked and I—" She pointed at Columbina. Then at Sandrone. Then at the space between them. "The cardio," she said. "The hour and a half of cardio."
"Furina—"
"That is not cardio, Sandrone."
"Go get your phone off the floor."
"I am not moving until someone explains to me what I just witnessed."
Columbina looked entirely unbothered. She gave Sandrone's waist one last gentle squeeze and stepped back, straightening up with the serene composure of someone who had gotten exactly what they wanted and felt good about it.
"Good luck at practice," she said to Sandrone, warm and simple. Then to Furina, with a small respectful nod: "Furina. I told you not to look."
"I tried!" Furina gestured wildly at herself. "I have a natural reflex toward interesting situations, I cannot control it, it is a legal management instinct—"
Columbina smiled. Turned. Walked back toward the court with her hands in her pockets like nothing in the world was the matter.
Sandrone watched her go.
Three seconds. Maybe four this time.
She turned around.
Furina had picked up her phone. She was clutching it to her chest. She was looking at Sandrone with the expression of someone who had so much to say that none of it had managed to get out yet.
"Not a word," Sandrone said.
"Sandrone."
"Not. A word."
"She kissed your face seven times! Explain it to me!"
"I am walking to practice now."
"Seven individual kisses, Sandrone, I counted—"
"I am not hearing this."
"On your cheek! Repeatedly! Like a—like a person who has feelings! Like a person who is absolutely—"
"Furina." Sandrone looked at her. "If you finish that sentence I will have you doing extra reps for the entire practice."
Furina closed her mouth.
Opened it and closed it again.
Then she fell into step beside her, hugging her phone, practically vibrating.
They walked in silence for approximately ten steps.
"She pinched your waist, oh my gosh. I would have jumped her right there if I were you." Furina said quietly, like she simply could not help it.
“It’s because you’re easy,”
“Take back what you just said! Hey!”
Sandrone walked faster.
Furina kept up easily, smiling so wide it was affecting her posture, and had the wisdom to say absolutely nothing else.
For at least another thirty seconds.
Columbina made it to the volleyball court with approximately forty-five seconds to spare, which she considered a personal victory given the morning she had just had. She walked in with her bag over one shoulder and a smile she was doing absolutely nothing to control.
She was also holding her ID holder.
Specifically, looking at what was inside her ID holder.
A 1x1 photo. Small. Slightly worn at the corner from how many times she had taken it out and put it back. Sandrone's face looking back at her with that expression she had, the one that looked unbothered but had warmth underneath it if you knew where to look.
Columbina smiled once more and kissed her ID holder.