The morning crept in quietly, soft golden light spilling through the thin curtains, brushing over tangled sheets and the slow, even breaths that filled the room.
Avery stirred first. The weight of sleep still tugged at her, but something softer, the warmth pressed against her chest... pulled her awake. She blinked once, then twice, her vision clearing to the sight of Kara nestled against her, one arm draped lazily across Avery's waist, her hair spilling over Avery's shirt like strands of dark silk.
For a moment, Avery didn't move. She just watched. The way Kara's lashes fluttered with each breath. The slight curve of her lips, relaxed in sleep. The faint scent of shampoo that still lingered on her skin. It was quiet, a kind of quiet Avery hadn't felt in a long time and the peace of it hit her like something she didn't know she'd been starving for.
She reached up, brushing a few strands of hair away from Kara's face. "Morning, Lil Chicken" she whispered, even though Kara couldn't hear her.
Her chest squeezed. It felt too perfect, too fragile like if she stayed here too long, reality might notice and take it away.
Reluctantly, she began to ease herself from Kara's hold. It took patience, moving inch by inch so she wouldn't wake her. Kara murmured something, half dream, half word and tightened her arm for a second before letting go.
Avery smiled. "You cling even in your sleep," she whispered with a small laugh, slipping out of bed.
The air outside the blanket was cool against her skin. She padded quietly to the bathroom, splashed her face with water, then stared into the mirror for a long second. Her reflection looked different, not in the way makeup or sleep could change her, but in her expression. She was smiling without realizing it again, like the world had softened overnight.
Her phone buzzed on the counter. She reached for it, towel still in hand.
3 new messages.Luke: Yo, are you alive? Did you crash at someone's again?Luke: Update me, woman.Phoebe: Hey. Can we talk?
A missed call from Phoebe, timestamped close to midnight, blinked up at her. Avery froze. The reminder sank like a stone in her chest. For a moment, she just stood there the contrast between the sunlight spilling through the window and the weight of that name pressing down on her was almost cruel.
She locked her phone with a sigh. "Not now," she muttered to herself. "Not when things finally feel good."
Stepping back into the room, her gaze fell on Kara again still fast asleep, one hand curled near her face, the faintest smile ghosting her lips. Avery's heart softened instantly. The thought of Phoebe felt distant, almost like a shadow that couldn't touch this light.
She wanted to keep this morning to bottle it somehow, the stillness, the warmth, the way Kara's hair caught the sunlight.
So she decided on something simple: breakfast.
Avery rummaged through the small desk by Kara's bed until she found a notepad and a pen. Her handwriting was hurried, uneven from trying to stay quiet, but her grin grew wider with every word she wrote.
On the first note, she scribbled:
Good morning, sleepyhead. I didn't want to wake you, you looked too peaceful.
She tore another sheet.
Don't panic, I didn't run away. I'm getting us breakfast. You owe me a coffee when I get back.
And another, smaller one she left tucked on Kara's pillow, beside her hand.
You looked really cute sleeping. Don't tell anyone I said that.
Avery stood for a second, looking around the room the faint mess of blankets, the way Kara's clothes from last night were folded neatly on the chair, the faint scent of coffee candle wax mixed with fabric softener. Something about it all made her chest ache... not in pain, but in a quiet, full way.
She grabbed her phone and jacket, slipping her shoes on by the door. Before leaving, she turned once more, taking in the sight of Kara cocooned in the sheets, the morning light painting her skin in gold.
Avery smiled, soft and certain.
"Don't go anywhere, Kara," she whispered under her breath, hand lingering on the doorknob.
Then she locked the door carefully behind her, the faint click echoing in the stillness, and stepped out into the bright, waking world heart full, ready to bring back the smell of coffee and toast to the girl still sleeping in her bed.
***
The sun was already warm against the curtains when Kara stirred. The air in the room carried that soft, sleepy scent of morning, linen, sunlight, a faint trace of Avery's perfume.
Her hand reached instinctively toward the other side of the bed. Empty.
Kara blinked awake, confusion threading through her as her fingers brushed only cool sheets. She sat up slowly, hair a tangle, her heart skipping once before she noticed something at the edge of the blanket a note.
She squinted, rubbing her eyes before picking it up.
Good morning, sleepyhead. I didn't want to wake you, you looked too peaceful.
Kara smiled immediately, her cheeks warming.
Another note on the nightstand.Don't panic, I didn't run away. I'm getting us breakfast. You owe me a coffee when I get back.
And the last one, tucked beside her pillow, written smaller, like a secret:You looked really cute sleeping. Don't tell anyone I said that.
Kara's heart swelled. She pressed the note to her lips, letting out a soft laugh. "God, you're something else, Avery."
She stretched, her body still heavy from sleep but her mood impossibly light. The memory of last night replayed in flashes, laughter over the series, the warmth of Avery's arms, the slow kisses, certain pull of something real growing between them. For a moment, she forgot everything else, Willow, the guilt, the worry. There was only this: sunlight and paper notes and the feeling of being wanted.
Kara moved through her small guesthouse, tidying the mess they'd made last night, the empty snack bowl, the blanket half on the floor. She was halfway through making the bed when she heard the faint vibration of her phone on the desk.
A message from Avery popped up:
Ave:On my way back. Got us chicken porridge and coffee!
Kara grinned at her screen. She typed quickly:
Kara:You're too good to me.
Ave:You deserve breakfast, Karr.
The nickname hit soft, right in her chest. Kara pressed the phone to her heart for a second, then went to wash her face and brush her hair, humming under her breath.
Ten minutes later, the knock on the door came.
Avery stood there, holding a small paper bag and two takeaway cups, her hair slightly windblown from the morning ride. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," she teased, stepping in.
Kara rolled her eyes, smiling. "You're lucky I didn't lock you out."
"You wouldn't," Avery said easily, setting the food on the table. "You'd miss me too much."
Kara laughed, swatting her arm. "Cocky."
They sat together on the floor, unwrapping their breakfast. Avery handed Kara her coffee, their fingers brushing for a moment longer than needed. The warmth between them was quiet, steady.
For a while, they just talked, about Kara's upcoming class, about Avery's chaotic schedule, about how the fireworks last night were still flashing in their heads.
But the peace didn't last.
Avery's phone buzzed again, lighting up on the table beside them. Kara glanced at it absently at first, until she saw the name flash across the screen.
Phoebe calling…
Avery froze mid-bite. The air shifted.
Kara's chest tightened before she could stop it.
The phone buzzed once. Twice. Then went still.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Avery exhaled slowly, setting her spoon down.
"I need to tell you something."
Kara looked at her, really looked and nodded, silent.
Avery's fingers fidgeted with the coffee lid, her voice low. "Phoebe's… my ex. It ended a long time ago. But she keeps trying to reach out. I've ignored her for weeks, months even, but she doesn't stop. She called last night too."
Kara's pulse quickened, but she stayed still, waiting.
"I don't reply," Avery continued quickly. "I don't… I can't. Because when I'm with you, it feels right. But I just..." she swallowed, eyes glassy. "I don't want you to find out some other way and think I was hiding it."
Kara's breath left her in a slow, quiet rush. The honesty in Avery's voice hit deeper than she expected.
"Thank you for telling me," Kara said softly.
Avery blinked, surprised. "You're not mad?"
Kara shook her head, giving her a small smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes but tried. "No. You're allowed to have a past, Ave. God knows I have mine too."
Their gazes held for a long, quiet beat.
Avery looked down at her hands, then back up, her voice trembling slightly. "I just want to be honest with you. Because I like you, Kara. I really, really do. And I don't want any of this to get messy."
Kara's heart twisted, both from affection and guilt. The words she wanted to say pressed at the back of her throat: I haven't been fully honest either. But they stuck there, swallowed down with her coffee.
She reached out instead, covering Avery's hand with hers. "Hey," she said quietly. "You already make it less messy just by being you."
Avery's lips curved into a faint, grateful smile. "You always know what to say."
"Not always," Kara whispered.
They sat in silence for a while, sharing small bites of rice and sips of lukewarm coffee, the air heavy but warm. Outside, the late morning sun filtered through the thin curtains, catching the faint shimmer of dust in the air, quiet, soft, and almost holy.
When their meal was done, Avery started to clean up, her movements gentle, while Kara sat back and watched her, an ache forming in her chest.
She wanted to tell her. Everything.
About Willow. About the guilt that never quite left. About the way Avery's honesty made her feel both safe and undeserving.
But instead, Kara only said, "Thanks for breakfast."
Avery turned, her smile small but full. "Anytime."
Kara smiled back, though her mind whispered otherwise: I'll tell you soon, Ave. I have to.
For now, she let herself reach out, catching Avery's wrist and pulling her gently closer a wordless request to stay just a little longer.
And Avery did. She always did.
***
Their fingers brushed once, and then Kara's thumb began tracing slow, absent circles over Avery's skin.
Avery looked down at their joined hands, and then up at Kara. That look, the one that always made her chest feel too tight, passed between them again, like a spark that neither knew how to stop.
Kara stood first. She walked around the table, pausing just beside Avery's chair. Avery tilted her head up, and for a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Then Kara leaned in.
The kiss was gentle at first. almost hesitant, but it deepened quickly, all the unspoken apologies and ache spilling into it. Avery's hands found Kara's waist, pulling her closer. Kara's fingers slid into Avery's hair, holding her there, as if afraid she might disappear if she let go.
The world outside the window disappeared. There was only breath, warmth, and the quiet rhythm of hearts trying to sync.
When they finally pulled apart, Kara rested her forehead against Avery's. Both of them were smiling, small, shaky smiles that carried more truth than words could.
"I'm sorry," Kara whispered. "For not saying everything sooner. For still being scared."
Avery shook her head, brushing her thumb along Kara's jaw. "You don't have to be. I'm right here."
Kara's hand found the back of Avery's neck again, drawing her in for another kiss, slower this time, lingering. It wasn't about needing or taking anymore. It was about staying.
***
They ended up on the bed, tangled together, the afternoon light spilling through the curtains. Kara's head rested on Avery's chest, her fingers idly tracing the curve of Avery's arm, every touch quiet but electric.
Avery's breath hitched, her hand instinctively sliding up to rest on Kara's back. The air between them felt thicker somehow, charged in a way that made every heartbeat sound louder. Kara tilted her head, brushing her lips against Avery's collarbone, soft, uncertain, like she was asking a question without words.
Avery answered by turning slightly, her hand finding Kara's jaw, guiding her face up until their eyes met. For a moment, neither spoke. The room hummed with quiet tension, the kind that made time stretch and pulse.
Then Kara kissed her.
It wasn't careful this time. It wasn't the shy, uncertain kind they'd shared under the stars, this one carried everything she'd been holding back. The fear, the guilt, the need. Her fingers curled in Avery's shirt, pulling her closer, as if she could close every inch of space between them.
Avery responded in kind, her hands moving up to Kara's hair and body, her lips meeting hers with the same urgency. The kiss deepened, turning messier, needier... both of them breathing hard, both trying to find something they couldn't name.
When they finally paused, foreheads pressed together, Kara laughed breathlessly, a soft, almost trembling sound. "You drive me insane," she whispered, her voice rough from the rush of it.
Avery smiled, brushing her thumb over Kara's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, the tremor beneath it. "You started it," she murmured, teasing but gentle.
Kara grinned, eyes still closed, and pressed another kiss to Avery's jaw. "Maybe I did," she said. "But I couldn't stop if I tried."
They stayed like that, touching, kissing, breathing each other in... until the outside world seemed to dissolve. Every sigh, every shared smile felt like an unspoken confession. Kara's hands slowed, her movements softening as the heat gave way to something deeper: tenderness.
Eventually, she rested her head on Avery's chest again, fingers drawing small, slow circles against her skin. Avery's hand drifted through Kara's hair, soothing her back into calm. The sunlight had shifted by then, painting the room in amber and gold.
Neither spoke for a long time. It wasn't silence that asked for words.. it was the kind that meant everything had already been said.
And when Kara finally whispered, almost against Avery's skin, "Don't go yet," Avery only tightened her hold, kissing the top of her head.
"I'm not going anywhere," she said.
For the first time, Kara believed her.
"I don't know what happens next," Kara murmured.
Avery kissed the top of her hair. "We'll figure it out."
Kara smiled against her skin. "I think I already am."
The rest of the day stretched ahead of them... uncertain, fragile, but theirs.
***
The rest of the afternoon melted quietly into evening. They hadn't planned anything, they didn't need to. Kara fell asleep first, her hand still loosely hooked around Avery's wrist, while Avery lay awake for a while, listening to the rhythm of her breathing. The kind of peace that filled the room felt new, fragile, but warm, like something they were both learning how to hold.
By the time the sky outside began to dim into violet, Avery gently slipped away from Kara's arms. She sat on the edge of the bed, stretching her legs, and smiled at the sight of Kara still sleeping, hair messy, lips parted, the faintest crease of a dream visible on her brow. She looked... happy. Safe.
Avery busied herself quietly, tidying the mugs from breakfast, collecting Kara's textbooks from the corner table. One of the notebooks fell open in her hands, pages filled with Kara's handwriting: neat, sometimes frantic, sometimes looped and tired. She smiled, flipping through. Then, on impulse, she found a blank page somewhere in the middle and uncapped a pen.
Her heart raced as she wrote.
Kara,I don't even know when it started, maybe the first night you smiled at me under the stars, maybe the first time you made me laugh when I was sure I'd forgotten how. You make ordinary days feel lighter. You remind me what it's like to want to stay.
I know things aren't simple for either of us. I know we both have ghosts we're still learning to live with. But when I'm with you, it feels like I've come home, and that's something I haven't felt in a long time.
So I'm writing this here, maybe you'll find it days or weeks from now... but I need you to know.
I'm falling for you. I love you.
Avery
She read it once, her chest tight, then closed the notebook and placed it gently back where it was, as if leaving a secret gift for the right moment to find her.
By the time Kara stirred awake, the golden glow of evening had turned soft and cool. She blinked blearily, smiled when she saw Avery, and stretched. "You're still here."
"Where else would I be?" Avery said, teasing, and Kara laughed, that lazy, sun-warmed sound that made Avery's stomach flutter.
They decided to grab dinner at the nearby mall, something simple to ease back into the world. Kara tugged her hair into a messy bun while Avery threw on her jacket, and soon they were back on Avery's motorbike, coasting through the warm Bali night.
Dinner was easy, light, ordinary, and somehow still filled with a quiet sort of magic. The café was softly lit, filled with the murmur of other diners and the faint scent of roasted sesame from the kitchen. They'd found a corner table by the glass, the city lights of Seminyak flickering just beyond.
Avery forked at her salad, grinning across the table. "Do you remember our first date?"
Kara groaned, covering her face. "Don't remind me."
"Oh, I'm absolutely reminding you," Avery said, laughing. "You were so nervous you ordered the Japanese ginger salad. Just ginger. A whole bowl of it."
Kara dropped her hands and stared at her. "I didn't know! The picture looked like it had salmon!"
Avery burst out laughing so hard she had to set her fork down. "You barely touched it. You just kept chewing and pretending it was fine."
"I was trying to be polite!" Kara protested, crossing her arms but smiling despite herself. "You were already so pretty and confident and ugh... I didn't want to look stupid."
Avery tilted her head, eyes softening. "You didn't look stupid. You looked… sweet."
Kara huffed, pretending to pout, then smirked. "You're only saying that because you felt bad for me."
"Maybe," Avery said teasingly, leaning closer. "But it worked. I still remember thinking 'wow, she's adorable, even when she's suffering through ginger.'"
They both laughed again, the sound bouncing lightly between them. For a moment, it was just them, no shadows, no old ghosts, only the warmth of shared memories and the comfort of knowing how far they'd come since that awkward, beautiful first night.
When the laughter finally subsided, Kara leaned back in her chair, still smiling. "You know what's funny?"
"What?"
"I'd eat that stupid salad again if it meant I got to meet you for the first time all over."
Avery felt her chest tighten, not with pain, but with that slow, certain ache that came with falling deeper. She reached across the table, brushed her fingers against Kara's hand. "You don't have to. We've already got this version. And it's better."
Kara squeezed her hand in return, her eyes glimmering. "Yeah," she said softly. "It really is."
They lingered after dinner, not ready to let the night end. Their conversation drifted between silly stories, plans for next weekend, and random what-ifs that turned into laughter again and again.
***
Outside Kara's guest house, the air had cooled, the scent of rain lingering faintly. Kara walked close beside Avery as they made their way to the parking lot, brushing shoulders now and then, fingers brushing too.
When they reached the bike, Kara hesitated, turning toward her with that quiet look... a mixture of gratitude and want. "You really do make everything feel lighter, you know that?"
Avery smiled. "That's my job, isn't it? Making sure you never eat plain ginger again."
Kara laughed, shaking her head, and before Avery could react, she caught her by the jacket, pulled her close, and kissed her. It wasn't hurried or shy this time. It was deep, certain, full of the kind of warmth that lingered long after breath ran out.
Avery kissed her back without thinking, one hand sliding up to Kara's jaw, the other curling in her shirt. The world dimmed around them, just the hum of traffic, the smell of rain, the pulse of something real between them.
When they finally pulled apart, Kara's voice was barely above a whisper. "Drive safe?"
Avery nodded, brushing her thumb over Kara's cheek before letting go. "I'll text you when I get home, Karr."
That word made Kara's eyes soften completely. "You better," she murmured.
Avery lingered for a second longer before slipping on her helmet, climbing onto her Vespa. Kara stood there, watching as Avery started the engine, waving one last time before disappearing into the glowing night.
And as the tail light faded, Kara could still taste laughter and Avery's lips, that same sweetness she knew she'd carry for a long, long time. She turned back toward her guest house, something tugged in her chest... a warmth she couldn't shake.
Later, while sorting through her notes for class, she flipped open a random page and froze.
Her eyes caught Avery's handwriting.
And before she even read it all, her breath caught, tears already rising.
***
The following week unfurled in a rhythm that felt almost like a dream.Calls that stretched past midnight.Video chats filled with laughter and sleepy faces.Little messages sent at random hours, a photo of Kara's morning coffee, a voice note from Avery caught in traffic, the sound of rain outside Kara's window that Avery said she wanted to hear.
By Thursday, even the silence between them felt full.
Kara started showing up at Beachwalk more often. Sometimes with takeout, sometimes with just an iced coffee in hand and that familiar grin that made Avery's coworkers whisper and tease.At lunch, she'd sit across from Avery, legs brushing under the table, pretending to scroll her phone while secretly watching her.After work, she'd wait in the parking lot, helmet in hand, her bike gleaming under the fading sun, like some small promise waiting to be fulfilled.
By Friday night, neither of them needed to say much.Kara just texted: Outside.And Avery was already packing up her things.
They ended up at a small bar in Seminyak, one Avery had wanted to try for weeks.The music pulsed low through the air, bass-heavy, wrapped in dim lights and murmured laughter. Kara led the way through the crowd, her hand brushing Avery's every few seconds as if to make sure she was still there.
The night slipped into motion like a song they already knew the words to.The bar was dim... amber lights flickering through the haze of cigarette smoke and laughter, the smell of citrus and salt from half-finished cocktails. Music thumped low, wrapping around the chatter, the clink of ice, the easy pulse of Friday night freedom.
Kara and Avery sat close at the counter, their knees brushing beneath the tall stools.Kara ordered whiskey for herself, a gin and tonic for Avery. When the bartender slid the drinks over, their fingers met briefly, just a touch, but enough to spark something between them, that quiet, humming electricity that had been building for weeks.
Avery caught Kara's glance over the rim of her glass, her lips curving. "You're going to start trouble tonight, aren't you?"Kara tilted her head, pretending to think. "I might. You look like you could handle it."
They laughed, easy, comfortable, the kind of laughter that filled the spaces where words used to be heavy.Kara leaned in when she talked, brushing her hair back behind her ear, eyes locked on Avery's. Avery couldn't look away. Every time Kara smiled, the world seemed to tip just a little.
Song after song came and went. Drinks refilled. The air between them shifted... a little looser, a little bolder. Avery's hand brushed Kara's when she gestured, then stayed there just a heartbeat longer than it should've. Kara didn't move it away.
"So," Avery said, swirling the melting ice in her glass, "what happens when you get drunk?"Kara grinned. "You'll find out."
"Oh, I bet you turn emotional," Avery teased."Only if you count wanting to kiss you as emotional," Kara shot back without missing a beat.
The words landed, light, joking, but heavy enough that it lingered between them.Avery's breath caught. She turned her glass in her hand, smiled softly. "You already do that sober."
That earned her a look... slow, deliberate, eyes that said more than either of them was ready to speak.Then the music changed, bass-heavy, a beat that made the walls vibrate.
Kara straightened, finishing her drink in one smooth tilt of her wrist. "Come on," she said, her voice half a dare, half a promise.
"What..." Avery barely had time to react before Kara took her hand and pulled her off the stool, threading through the crowd toward the dance floor.
The lights strobed in deep gold and violet, shadows swaying in time. Kara turned to face her, stepping close enough that Avery could feel her breath when she spoke. "Dance with me," she said again, but this time it wasn't a question.
Avery tried to joke "You can't even dance, Kara" but her words faltered when Kara's hands found her hips, guiding her closer in rhythm to the beat."Guess I'm learning," Kara murmured.
It wasn't graceful. It wasn't careful. It was raw, alive.Kara moved with a confidence that caught Avery off guard... hips rolling subtly to the rhythm, eyes never leaving hers. The space between them dissolved until it was just touch and heartbeat and sound.
Avery laughed, breathless, pressing her forehead briefly to Kara's shoulder as they moved. "You're ridiculous," she said, smiling against her skin.Kara's answer was a whisper against her ear "You like it."
She did. God, she did.Every brush of Kara's hand, every glance that lingered a second too long, every time the light caught the soft curve of her grin... it pulled Avery in like gravity.
The music shifted again, slower, heavier. The crowd blurred, bodies moving as one, but all Avery saw was Kara, her flushed cheeks, the glint in her eyes, the faint rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.Kara's fingers slid up to the back of Avery's neck, tracing the fine hairs there, and Avery shivered.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Kara asked quietly, voice just audible above the bass.
"Because you're impossible to look away from," Avery answered, and it came out before she could stop it.
Kara's expression softened, surprise, want, maybe a flicker of something deeper. Then she leaned in, so close her lips brushed Avery's jaw as she spoke."Then don't."
Their mouths met, not desperate, not rushed, but slow and deep, like something inevitable finally finding its place. The music roared around them, but it felt far away, muffled beneath the rush of pulse and breath and warmth.
When they broke apart, both laughing softly, foreheads pressed together, Kara's voice was low, almost reverent. "You ruin me, you know that?"
Avery smiled, brushing her thumb over Kara's cheek. "You started it."
Kara smirked, tugging Avery closer again. "Then I'll finish it too."
And they kept dancing, messy, close, alive... moving through the crowd like the rest of the world had fallen away.It wasn't about the bar anymore. It wasn't even about the night.It was about this, the fire, the laughter, the heartbeat that somehow matched in time.
"To surviving the week," Avery said, half-laughing."To you making it through four meetings without murdering anyone," Kara shot back.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Avery leaned in, shouting over the music.Kara's answer came as a grin, quick and dangerous. "Maybe a little."
She turned again, dancing backward, teasingly close, the distance between them evaporating in the haze of sound and light.Avery couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop watching. Every movement felt magnetic, reckless in the best way.Then Kara reached out, fingers brushing Avery's cheek. The noise faded, just for them.
The kiss happened like gravity... inevitable.A pull, a rush, the world spinning around them but nothing else touching them.The music, the crowd, the lights, all blurred into something distant and unimportant.
It felt like an exhale they'd been holding for weeks.
When they finally pulled apart, Kara rested her forehead against Avery's, breathless and grinning."Guess I dance now," she whispered.
Avery laughed, her hands still at Kara's waist. "You're unbelievable."
"Maybe," Kara said softly. "But you're the one still holding me."
They stayed like that through the next few songs... lost somewhere between the music and their heartbeat, swaying in time with something neither of them dared to name yet.
***
They barely remembered leaving the bar.The night air hit them like a wave, cool, salt-tinged, loud with the sound of passing motorbikes. Kara's hand was still laced through Avery's, knuckles white, neither of them ready to let go.
They laughed as they stumbled toward Kara's motorcycle, drunk on more than the drinks. Every step between them carried the pulse of that last song, the heat of the dance that hadn't really ended.
Kara stopped, turned, her face lit by the amber glow of a streetlamp. "Avery," she said softly... like she needed to make sure the name was real on her tongue.
Avery met her eyes, breath uneven. "Yeah?"
But Kara didn't answer. She just reached up, cupped Avery's face with both hands, and kissed her again, harder this time, as if the world would fall apart if she didn't. Avery's hands slid to Kara's waist, holding on, grounding her, both of them caught somewhere between wanting and relief.
When they finally broke apart, Kara rested her forehead against Avery's shoulder, laughing quietly. "We should go home.""Yours or mine?" Avery teased, voice still catching on her breath.
Kara pulled back enough to meet her gaze, eyes dark, uncertain, wanting. "Mine," she whispered.
The ride back was a blur of wind and heartbeat. Avery's hands trembled slightly on the handlebars; Kara's arms were tight around her waist, cheek pressed to her back. Neither spoke. They didn't have to. The silence was full of everything that had been left unsaid all week... every late-night call, every look, every almost-confession.
When they finally reached Kara's place, the quiet felt heavier than before. The air in the small room seemed to hum with leftover energy.Avery turned toward her, meaning to say something, a joke, maybe, to cut through it... but Kara didn't give her the chance.
She kissed her again, slower now. The kind of kiss that said I need you. That said don't go.
Avery responded in kind, her hands tracing the outline of Kara's back, the shape of her shoulder blades beneath her shirt. Kara pulled her closer, their laughter turning to soft gasps, then to whispers neither of them could quite make out.
Between kisses, Kara murmured, "You make everything stop hurting."And Avery, pressing her forehead to Kara's, whispered back, "Then don't let go."
They didn't.
The night folded in around them, and somewhere between all the closeness and the soft confessions, the intensity melted into stillness. They ended up tangled on Kara's bed, limbs heavy, breaths evening out.
Kara's head rested against Avery's chest; Avery's fingers drew lazy circles on Kara's arm until the rhythm slowed, their heartbeats syncing.
The last thing Avery remembered before sleep was Kara's hand searching for hers under the blanket, finding it, holding tight.
And in that small, quiet moment.. the world outside fading, both of them finally let themselves rest.
Tired. Warm. Safe.Home.