Carrer de Ferran
Happy Valentine’s Day! Have this embarrassingly indulgent piece of fluff I drafted 3 years ago. Will it be canon? Not sure
They sat opposite each other across a small table on Carrer de Ferran, staring past the tops of the menus at each other. Neither had to speak up to realise it resembled a date. Neither of them really knew if this had been unintentional on either of their parts. And neither could deny, either, that they were very definitely enjoying the depths of each other’s eyes.
“Do you like the venue?” asked Marcia. She had tied a lock of her hair in a ribbon; this lock she swirled around her index finger.
Vesper took a brief glance about. “It is nice, but you know I’m not particular,” she replied, gaze magnetically drawn back to her companion’s.
Their lunch arrived in parts, an assortment of dishes: cheeses and skewers of olives and meat, bread with tomato and a tall fruit juice each. They finished it easily, then spent a while sipping the drinks, listening to the ambient chatter floating on the air like a spell. The bright sun splashed upon their faces through the eaves of the facing shops, bringing with it the sort of warmth that you wanted to linger in forever.
It would be a while before Adelaide would arrive to take them to Felix’s new place, and there would be dozens of minutes to kill—dozens of minutes that they both already knew how they’d spend.
“You say you have before been in this city,” said Marcia. She owned the red and black she wore, a combination you couldn't ignore.
Vesper was not doing a very good job of looking elsewhere. “Aye, I had many childhood haunts here. Most hidden away in corners you’d never think to look. Courtyards behind houses, unseen parks and the like. Not in this part of the city, though. I don’t know if they exist in this world, or if they’re unimportant enough to have been ignored by this version of history.”
Marcia nodded attentively. “You appear familiar with it,” she said, stare lingering for a while before she grinned. “I’m sorry. I cannot stop looking at you, you have such a lovely face.”
“Oh, I…you…thanks,” she stammered, to the surprise of both. Marcia chuckled. Vesper was helpless against the smile that crossed her face. She decided to abandon her attempts to resist the pull of her companion’s presence, standing to move her chair beside her. “You sure know how to butter someone up.”
"That is a strange phrase." Though Marcia seemed to understand it, from the way she beamed. “You make it easy.” While the sun moved lazily across the sky, their eyes met again and again, each time lingering for longer. A flighty dance of gazes. Marcia‘s eyes burning into Vesper’s. Vesper resisting a laugh.
Eventually, Marcia asked—“Would you let me hold your hand?”
Vesper stared oddly back, before holding her hand out. Marcia took it eagerly, then gasped at the sudden sting of electric sparks where their skin touched.
“I’m sorry—“ she began.
“No, I like it,” Marcia cut in at once, leaning in closer.
“Really?” Vesper dragged her gaze away, flushing when she became aware of the vexing thrill that had come over her, the roar of her heartbeat in her ears. “Well, I've never felt like this before.”
Marcia chortled. ”I know, I felt everything,” she replied, tapping each of her fingers on the back of her palm in turn to make her point. “I like it. The lightning.”
Vesper bowed her head towards her and smirked. “Do you now?”
“Do it one more time. Please?” said Marcia. Without giving Vesper the time to answer, she leaned in and kissed her.
Stunned for a second, Vesper let herself sit paralysed for a moment, before sinking into the kiss. As naturally as calling her name, she let a brief, stinging shock pass between their lips.
Marcia pulled back to gasp and to laugh, the giddiest, most unbridled laugh Vesper had heard.
She felt a heat steadily rising into her face. “Well, do I get something in return?” she asked. “I have always been curious about your touch. You should…show me what you can do with it.”
A testy smile came to her companion’s lips. “You are not scared?”
“Scared? No, who do you think I am?”
Grinning at these brazen words, Marcia bowed forward to kiss her again, fingers winding around hers. Vesper felt her lips grow feverishly warm where they met. A head-spinning thrill surged right through her like a tide, making her heart flutter. Their kiss deepened: the longer their lips were locked, the more buoyant she felt, till her vision was swimming.
Vesper broke away. She would have asked for more—but her habit for abnegation won her over. “That’s…very pleasurable, but very dangerous,” she said, starting to smile when the sensation had cooled away. The dizziness, and the ghost of their kiss. “Do you do that often?”
“For you only, Evening Star,” answered Marcia.
“You seem to like kissing me.”
“You terribly enjoy being kissed,” Marcia answered, and Vesper remembered then that their hands had been linked the whole time.
Beaming and blushing, she submitted to an impulse to wrap an arm about Marcia and kiss her on the cheek, as she’d seen her father kiss her mother. There was little passion to it, only adoration. “Only by you,” she replied.
Adelaide arrived to take the two back to the hotel not long after Marcia had moved into the same chair as Vesper to facilitate their interactions. She found the two with legs curled up on in the cramped space of the seat, lips locked yet again, hands clasping arms, cupping faces. She barely knew what to say or do, in part because she was a little surprised at this development, and partly also because they seemed to be enjoying themselves so much that she could not bear to tear them apart.