she should extract herself. she should put distance between them - but is this not how she will be made to remember? does muscle memory still work, if the cells aren't the same? it must. it has to. because she is clinging to her, touching her hips like she did that day too, drawing her closer even if all she wants to do is draw away.

but she doesn't know why.

"i shouldn't have - " she says again, shaking her head, brushing their noses. she does not close her eyes, even though she wants to. 

thumbs dimple eva's jaw. one hand snakes between them to rest over her chest. not in a sultry way - that's the next to last thing on her mind right now - but so she can feel her heart. so she can ground herself here, in this reality. 

"it's going to hurt. i'm going to hurt you. more than i already am. but i - before all of this, before father winter, i was only myself. only one person. and i loved, love, him, with my whole self, but i'm more than that now. i'm too much more."

she grinds her teeth in frustration. 

softer now, gently, hand still on her beating heart, the other under her jaw, thumb grazing her chin. her voice drops to a whisper. 

"remember the snow. the black ash, falling. the way you rose for the people. they gave us a crown. yours was gold, studded with emeralds." faster now, in a tumult, her own script coming to the surface because that is how she must remember now. her transcription written in blood.

Eva Morales

☉

Eva willed herself to remember, she needed to remember. This would all seem insane if she couldn’t. She closed her eyes, steadied her breath, and found a grounding comfort in the warmth of Freya’s hand over her chest. Through that tether, she believed. She truly believed.

It was the number of familiar sensations that gave the memories power: the weight of Freya on her lap, her smell, the warmth of the breath on her lips, the taste of her on her tongue.

“Th- there was snow,” she repeated, seeing a world blanketed in beautiful white in her mind’s eye. A stone castle, a village of people that called them Queens. She remembered loneliness, then suddenly she wasn't. Eva remembered watching her smile and the world suddenly made sense. She remembered their laughter echoing over the crackle of a fireplace, soft furs beneath their bare, entangled limbs. She remembered baths filled with lavender and honey and them until the water was too cold to bear. She remembered late nights taking turns reading while the other fell asleep in their arms. She remembered a whole love that split in two.

Then she remembered loneliness again.

Eva’s eyes fluttered open and leaned back to look at Freya. She blinked away the tears that blurred her vision and smiled. Her hands moved to her cheeks, her thumbs gently wiping away stray tears, “There was love. I loved, love, you,” of that she was certain. But a dark shadow lingered that she couldn’t ignore. A bitterness fueled by heartbreak leaked into her voice and her smile faded, “But you don’t love me. It was never me. It was always him.”

---

freya morningstar

she barely has enough room in her heart to love herself. and what she doesn't spare for herself, she gives freely to king. to delta. and if she had enough, if only she had enough, she would give it to eva too. 

if she carries several lifelines around her spine, back aching from the burden, why can she not carry their capacity for love too?

her throat hurts from all the tears she's shed, but that does not stop them from leaking down her cheeks, falling onto their laps. all she'd given her under that gray sky - she always knew it would be temporary. she always left the next morning to scratch at the blood on the walls, to find a way out. back home. back to him. 

always him, him, him. 

"that's not true," she snaps suddenly. "it was you. in another life, it was you, and i carry that with me now. i'll carry it with me always. but i can't - " and her voice breaks. 

"he has my whole heart, eva. i can't take that back. i couldn't take that back. but you're in here too. on my soul." her voice drops to a shaky whisper, half-broken, quiet sobs. "and i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, eva. i am...not... enough."

Eva Morales

☉

“In another life, Freya,” she’s quick to remind her, and emphasize it, “Not this one,” not the one that mattered. Not the one where she was living in ignorant bliss, not happy but not entirely unhappy. Now the veil had been lifted and her bones ached to know what she can’t have. Where Freya was forced to carry a lingering love, Eva was now burdened with the knowledge of that and the rejection.

Eva turned her head to look elsewhere, anywhere that wasn’t into her eyes or over the curves of her face, “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re more than enough,” Eva was the one that wasn’t enough. She couldn’t even beat out a traitorous turncoat for Freya’s heart.

Beneath Freya’s weight, her hips bucked ever so slightly and she rolled her chair back, a signal it was time she backed off. Eva frantically wiped away at the crusted tears and the stray flyaways that clung to her cheeks from the sudden throe of passion, “I think you should go . . .”

---

freya morningstar

dawn breaks, but she cannot see the sun through the clouds she's conjured above them. only a steady drizzle, softening her edges, informing her slowly that she has broken her. again, she's broken her. 

eva's voice is here, but it's there in her head too, reaching past her shell, gathering her spirit and burrowing into her to tell her she is enough as she is, but gods, she feels so, so small. 

eva shifts. the intimacy flops, turning awkward, and freya clumsily extracts herself from the chair, cheeks burning. 

"i don't want to leave you like this," she says, hugging one arm. their coffee lay untouched and cold on her desk. she takes a step back towards the door. all the things she wants to say, but can't sit on her tongue. all over her face.

Eva Morales

☉

Between the rapid flutter of the eyelids, she stole a few glances at Freya, watching her crumple and shrink as the air grew stale. Her cheeks flushed, and despite everything, it was endearing. Though Eva could tell she was hurting. There was more she wanted to say and there was more Eva did too. In this very moment, it was overwhelming. A shadow of the memories left her mind spinning, trying to fill in the blank time she would never be able to get back.

“It’s a lot . . . Freya,” she did warn her it was going to hurt, but Eva didn’t know just how bad, “I’m a little overwhelmed,” she looked down at her fingers, fidgeting with her cuticles to give her something to focus on, “But we can talk later, ok?” she looked up with a whisper of a smile to leave Freya with a thread of hope. Freya was too important to be gone from her life, but right now Eva needed space to process it all, “I’ll call you.”

---

freya morningstar

loving king is like loving a tempest. but eva is the eye of the storm, a measure of calm amidst the wreckage, where for indescribably brief moments, she feels some measure of peace.

"yeah," she says. it is a lot. and she tries not to feel so embittered by it. she couldn't fathom forgetting, too terrified of making the same mistakes, and all she has is a heavier burden. one that now, finally, for the first time ever, she wants to share. 

but she can't.

but she is. 

eva feels the weight of it now too, and it may be worse. gaps linger, hollowed out pieces of her that are likely too far gone. 

"okay," she says quietly, because she doesn't know what else to say other than i love you, and she can't say that. so she spares her a glance, what thin smile she can, and slips out the door. 

Eva Morales

☉

Eva has spent a lot of time alone in her office, but when it’s suddenly void of Freya, the emptiness is gut wrenching. A dark, sepia hue stained the world’s vibrant colors and the void sucked any warmth from it like the vacuum of space. It seemed endless, the nothingness.

In the quiet of her office, she looked around, searching for something. She stared at the computer screen in front of her while wrestling with temptation. Eventually, she deleted the keywords types into the search bar.

Instead, she closed her eyes, setting her palms on the smooth wood of her desk. She breathed, opening her mind's eyes and pleading it to take her back to that place; a place in space and time where she was truly happy. Even if it was just a whisper, anything was better than the present.

---

freya morningstar