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it trembles, but never fades away

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Twelve inches.
Twelve inches of crushed, rumpled sheets between them.
It’s dark in Kara’s bedroom. The darkness somehow makes this feel even more intimate. She can no longer see the colour of Lena’s eyes, just the reflected lights from the street outside. Crashing together in the darkened, glassy surface of Lena’s eyes.
Colourless, monochrome. The soft shape of the sheets draped across Lena’s body cutting through the heat of the darkness. There are ravines, valleys and mountains. Carved from soft cotton sheets. She runs her hand over the bed beside Lena, ironing out the landscape. Lena’s eyes follow her hand, and she wishes that she could know what Lena is thinking.
She glances up.
Lena blinks.
She can feel Lena’s breath. Hear her heartbeat, slightly elevated.
Lena’s body heat rolls off her skin in waves, and Kara is so, so used to sleeping alone. She’s not sure that she’s shared a bed like this since…ever. This hot space beside her seems to press in on her skin, leaving her mouth parched and her skin buzzing. She’s hyperaware of Lena’s every move. She can hear the sheets rising and falling as Lena breathes, evenly, softly. Lena smells so good. Soft perfume, half worn away, and the faintest hint of shampoo. The scent feels as though it collects at the back of Kara’s throat, until her every breath makes her dizzy. Dizzy, spinning away. Dizzily surrounded by Lena.

There’s a gentle rustle of sheets, soft skin on cotton.
There’s a touch against her forearm.
Kara’s no longer sure if she’s breathing. Maybe she stopped inhaling hours ago, and this is all some half-lucid dream. And then she’s blinking, meeting Lena’s gaze. Oddly intense. Strong, simultaneously cautious and bold, saturated with feeling. She watches as Lena’s wide eyes drop, searching over her face. The movement of the reflected lights in her eyes feels like the most intimate thing Kara’s ever experienced.
She feels Lena’s gaze, like a touch. Like a caress.
And she’s never been touched this softly before.
Lena touches her tongue to the corner of her lips, nervously. She can actually hear Lena’s lips part, sticking together just slightly.
Kara moves a little closer to her.
Lena’s body heat is overwhelming. This is too much, too much, not nearly enough.
Black is not a colour of light, it is absence. Black is the absence or complete absorption of light. And in that hot darkness, Kara thinks that she understands this idea in a new way. Because the space between herself and Lena is not empty. Not void. It’s as though all the colours have come, tangling, together.

“Will…will you…” Lena’s hesitating, just as she has been all night. Lena’s beautiful, in a new way that Kara hadn’t quite realised before, and she is hesitant. Hesitant in all the worst ways.
Kara reaches out, and her fingers, under the covers, bump against the curve of Lena’s waist.
Lena exhales, a soft “oh” slipping past her lips.
“You want to, like, come here?” Kara says, her voice stronger than she feels. “You want to come closer?”
Lena simply blinks for a moment, and then nods. Once. A curl falls across her forehead, bouncing over her face, and Kara’s hand leaves her waist to brush it away. Tuck it behind her ear.
Lena’s heartbeat, which was thrumming along, slightly elevated, is now racing. Faster, faster, faster, faster, as Kara’s fingertips linger against her jawline. She tilts her head, slowly, her eyes meeting Kara’s.
Pupils blown wide, too wide.
Black pupils bleeding, pouring, into her iris. Greyish in the half-light. Kara is suddenly reminded, in a single swift punch to the gut, of the time Alex in college had come home one morning with her pupils wide and her mouth dry. Her heart was racing then, too.
Kara wonders if Lena is feeling that same buzz.

Then Lena is shifting, rolling towards Kara, whose hand falls back once more to her waist. Her back to Kara’s chest, as she shuffles, snuggles, closer.
Not quite touching. Not quite yet.
Kara slides one arm, gently, under her head, and cautiously tightens her grip against her waist. Carefully, pulling her closer, but not too hard.
Testing her strength, flexing her fingertips against Lena’s hipbone. Four pressure points against soft, soft flesh.
She wonders if she could leave marks.
Of course she could.
Lena is not iron, not steel, not cold and strong and brittle. Lena is flesh, soft and pliant and warm and soft and soft, delicate.
She could leave the traces of her touch there, against Lena’s skin. And she would still be able to see her mark there the next morning. Perfect, purpling proof, that they were here, tonight. Proof that they were together. Pressed into her flesh. She could do it, easily.
The thought leaves her head spinning away.
She holds on to Lena tighter, not ready for the sudden rush of blood to her brain. And she expected Lena’s heart rate to increase. Knew that the sudden pounding in her ears would thrum around her head, around her chest. Knew it would leave her dazed, powerless.
But what she did not know, did not expect, was for Lena to arch back into her grip, pressing her ass to Kara’s hips, her breathing stuttering. Falling.
A half-suppressed moan slips from between Lena’s lips, as Kara instantly, instinctively, tightens her grip further. Pulling Lena closer still.
“Yes,” Lena whispers. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Lena reaches, blinding for Kara’s other hand, and brings it down. Pressing her palm against the centre of her chest.
So that Kara’s body is pressed against her own, Kara’s arms encircling her.
And now her breathing is too fast, too much.
Kara can feel the soft, pliant skin of her breasts under the loose fitting shirt. It takes all her concentration to not allow her eyes to flit shut and just feel. Feel everything. Feel Lena’s soft soft soft body and her fast breathing and her fast heart rate and her soft skin and her soft breaths and her body her body her body.
But she doesn’t.
She keeps her eyes open, focusing instead on the way in which Lena’s hair tickled at her chin, at her cheek. The scent of her shampoo.
The scent of Lena’s skin.
The scent of Lena’s skin.
The scent of Lena’s skin.
Raw, soft, buzzing.
She wonders if Lena is turned on.
She wonders if Lena is breathing fast because she wants. Wants her. Wants Kara.

It’s suddenly too hot, too hot, too hot, under those sheets.
“Is this okay, Kara?” Lena whispers. And Kara doesn’t think anyone has ever pronounced her name quite like that before. Quite so softly.
“Yeah, I think, if you’re okay with this?”
She wants to play with Lena’s hair again. Wants to trace the hand now resting on Lena’s hip down, over the curve of her thighs. To see if they’re as soft as they look.
Just to see.
Just to touch.
She would like to touch.

And then Lena is shifting, twisting in her arms. Her ass presses, momentarily back against Kara’s hips, which jerk forwards. Pressing, Lena’s twisting, pressing, too much space, not enough space. Wriggling to face Kara, her hair tumbling down between them, as they’re chest to chest chest to chest chest to chest.
Heat, pressure, heat, hot.
Hot.
Kara’s opening her mouth to ask Lena if she’s okay. To seek some murmured reassurance.
And then.
All at once.
Overwhelming.
Hot.
No, heat.