[+MATURE Grapefruit]The Day the World Ends

Ella bit her lip, listening silently. She was right — if she hadn't wanted this, hadn't wanted them on some level, she'd have fled after that first week.

And then she was being turned around, chin tilted upwards so that Kaczor could press a kiss to her forehead; and it's at that moment that her wife would see silent tears. How do we reconcile when you don't know me? She murmured, brushing her palms across her eyes, catching tears before they could fall.

You don't know me. I don't know me. What's real? What's fake? She was pulled into a hug, now, and buried her face against the other woman's chest. I only know the structure of having an assignment, of being assigned who to be.

It was too much information. Malachai would be disappointed in her. She was convinced of crushing disappointment; from her father-figure, from her wife.