leave me your stardust to remember you by - Chapter 9 - arsonide - 原神 (2024)

Chapter Text

The newspaper flutters to the floor, forgotten and, frankly, unwanted.

Navia gasps as she’s backed into her bedroom dresser, her makeup and mirror crashing noisily, and her open mouth allowing Clorinde’s tongue to swipe on her bottom lip. Her arm is wrapped tightly around Navia’s waist, and it makes Navia exhale with a ribbing laugh.

She laughs one more time when Clorinde pushes her lower back into the dresser with a grumble, before she sighs flagrantly and snakes her arms between their bodies to grab Clorinde’s face, pulling her harder against her lips.

She kisses Clorinde hard and deep, and she feels Clorinde exhale placidly against her.

Navia grins into another kiss. She feels Clorinde kiss her lips and teeth from the force of it, but she really doesn’t mind.

“I didn’t even finish reading it out to you,” she says with a giggle.

Clorinde pecks her lips once more before answering. “Why read a boring newspaper about how much people like seeing you in lingerie when I can be the one to see you without it?” she husks against Navia’s lips.

Oh wow.

She feels heat begin to draw in close to her navel again, the same kind of heat that has been present there almost every day since their first… tiff.

Navia puts two fingers under Clorinde’s chin to kiss her once, then twice. Her lips are beginning to feel absurdly warm. “Are you saying you don’t like seeing me in lingerie?” she teases quietly, pressing her forehead against Clorinde’s.

Clorinde swipes her arm underneath Navia’s ass and brings her up with one quick and easy flourish. Navia squeaks, her arms instinctively going around Clorinde’s neck, and Clorinde’s laughter comes deep from her chest.

Navia wants nothing more than to kiss her, and so she does.

Clorinde sucks on her bottom lip, arms underneath Navia to keep her held steady in place. Navia sighs, melting into her body.

Clorinde lets go of her bottom lip with one more teasing nibble of her teeth. “I love seeing you in lingerie,” she declares, looking flatly into Navia’s eyes to convey her sincerity. There’s a twinkle of mischief that Clorinde can’t hide in her smile. “I am, however, quite a bigger fan of seeing you in nothing at all.”

“Gods, you’re such a—” Navia laughs, pausing to inhale harshly when she feels Clorinde dip her head down to her neck to nuzzle her, then suck a spot next to her nipple.

“Clorinde,” she gasps. Her nails dig into Clorinde’s shoulder blades.

She feels Clorinde’s teeth stretch into a grin against her collarbone. Clearly, someone has an ego problem.

Clorinde jostles her in her arms to get her into a more comfortable position, then she looks up at her.

“Bedroom?” Clorinde asks, almost innocently.

Navia shakes her head fiercely, grabbing Clorinde’s cheeks with one hand and pulling her to her lips for a crashing kiss.

“Eat me out on the kitchen counter,” Navia breathes against her lips.

Clorinde tilts her head, still breathing hard from the kiss. “The blinds are open. Someone might—”

“I know,” Navia answers.

Clorinde stares at her for a moment.

And then she grins, hunger akin to a predator in her eyes, then carries a giggly Navia into the kitchen.

“Navia,” Clorinde gasps.

Navia’s fingers ghost over the smooth roundness of Clorinde’s hips and find purchase between her legs. She rubs Clorinde’s cl*t, her strap-on pressing like a promise against Clorinde’s folds, and Clorinde rocks gently against her with a low moan.

Clorinde is on her hands and knees for her, legs spread wide quite eagerly. The tattoo of her rapier on the middle of her back isn’t quite as bold in ink as it used to be when Navia dared her to get in their college days, but it still looks quite beautiful running down her strong spine, even as Clorinde’s body trembles beneath her.

They were both so excited to see the new strap-on arrive that the first thing they did when coming into the apartment was drag each other into the bedroom, lip-locked and clothes already stripping. And Clorinde, quite evidently, seems incredibly enthused to be in this position.

It makes Navia smirk.

Her fingers are coated in Clorinde’s slick wetness. She removes her hand to get a taste.

Clorinde is sweet, as she always is.

“Navia,” Clorinde grits out, more incensed.

Laughing, Navia braces her arms on either side of Clorinde and presses her body closer to her. She can feel Clorinde’s taut back muscles against her chest. She sighs in content, placing two fingers around the dild* in her harness to guide it gently inside Clorinde.

Clorinde moans lowly, pressing her face deeper in the mattress. It’s clear that she had been waiting for the feel of it for hours now.

“Oh, baby, I know. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Navia whispers in her ear. She presses a kiss on Clorinde’s temple.

Clorinde lets out a muffled yes, then rubs her hips against Navia’s slow pacing.

“Don’t be like that,” Navia says with a tut. “You’ve been good for the past four hours. You can take another one before you can cum, can’t you?”

“Don’t you dare,” Clorinde snaps, looking over her shoulder to stare into Navia’s gleeful eyes. Her anger is lost on both of them, though. Her eyes are wide with desperation and pleading, rather than anything commanding.

It makes Navia laugh, but she jerks her hips to slam the toy inside of Clorinde.

Clorinde gasps sharply at the feeling, and then melts back into the mattress.

Edging hasn’t always been something present in their bedroom life way back when— but the present isn’t the past, and they’re allowed to change.

And if edging Clorinde with her tongue, a single finger inside of her puss*, and a few expensive toys for the past four and a half hours can be anything due to some sweet little revenge in the back of her mind, neither of them say a word about it.

Clorinde’s pained but pleasured moans do all the talking for them.

Navia moves her hips in and out in a languid motion, spreading even slower kisses to Clorinde’s shoulder blades and neck.

A hand comes up to smooth over Clorinde’s strong back. She can’t help it. She’s always been a fan of the way Clorinde’s muscles feel under her hands, and it makes how Clorinde tremble under her palms all the more gratifying.

“Navia, please,” Clorinde whispers, trembling in tone and oh so quiet.

Well, Navia can’t have that, can she?

“Please what?” Navia whispers back. Her movements are starting to pick up in pace, and it’s not something that’s lost on Clorinde.

Clorinde groans loud and long, pressing her forehead into the mattress and gripping the sheets with a shaking fist. She’s almost at her limit, Navia can tell.

But then again, Clorinde had always said that she’d like to be pushed to her limits in everything.

“Please just make me cum,” Clorinde begs. She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears.

“Do you think you deserve it?” Navia asks, not unkindly.

“Yes!” Clorinde gasps. She begins to rut against Navia’s dild* again, much more desperately than the last.

Navia stands back to watch, awed and delighted at the sudden burst of energy that Clorinde seems to have accumulated. What was that thing Clorinde had said to her once, to motivate her? If the mind feels tired, the body can take forty percent more.

So Navia pushes.

She moves a hand over Clorinde’s thigh and rubs her cl*t in fast, jerking back and forth motions, just in the way she knows Clorinde likes it.

Clorinde’s thighs are beginning to shake. She rests against Navia’s hips, all at her mercy, and moans low and painfully while Navia works her at a brutal, merciless pace.

“f*ck, I—!” Clorinde chokes on a moan, and her back muscles go taut. Navia grins at the beautiful sight of it. “Navia, Navia, I’m going to—!”

Navia removes her hand from Clorinde’s cl*t.

She jerks her hips harshly forward with a wet sounding smack, and then pulls out without another word.

Clorinde’s moan is half pleasure and half of a sob.

Navia rubs her hand over Clorinde’s round, smooth ass. She hums as Clorinde tries desperately to rock her hips back and forth to try and entice Navia back inside of her, but of course, it’s to no avail.

Navia leans over to kiss the shell of Clorinde’s ear. She feels Clorinde shiver, and she smiles as she sucks the tip of her ear into her mouth and swirls her tongue around the skin.

“Give me thirty more minutes, and then I’ll make you cum so good that this makes it all worth it,” Navia whispers close to her face. Clorinde’s moan of recognition is pure agony. “You can make it to five hours, can’t you?”

“I can,” Clorinde whimpers.

“And your light?” Navia asks, almost uncharacteristically soft.

They may be beginning to get to orange territory with their traffic lights, a sign for Navia to ease up on what she’s doing.

But Clorinde’s inhale is shaky, and she boldly says, “Green.”

And green means she wants this to continue.

Navia rubs one of her ass cheeks in soothing circles. She presses a rewarding kiss to the corner of Clorinde’s mouth.

“That’s a good girl,” Navia praises, and Clorinde only groans in reply. She pauses for a good moment, just in case Clorinde had changed her mind, but nothing comes.

So she smacks Clorinde’s ass, loud and sharp.

“Get on your back,” Navia demands. “I want to taste you again.”

In the back of her mind, Navia wonders if Clorinde’s forearm is starting to hurt. She’s been riding her fingers for half an hour, and yet Clorinde has made no indication of slowing down as she fingers her while they make out in her dressing room.

Navia gasps when Clorinde presses her fingers against her g-spot, incessantly beckoning it with a practiced pace that has Navia shaking on her lap.

Clorinde chuckles, pressing her lips against Navia’s opened mouth even as she continues to let out subdued moans. Navia can feel some of her saliva trailing from the corner of her mouth, but Clorinde captures it with a dart of her tongue, and they’re back to kissing each other like it’s their last day on Teyvat.

Clorinde’s fingers continue to pump in and out of her without slowing down. Navia makes a mental note to ask her what she does to keep her forearm muscles in shape to be able to go so long like this, because she would absolutely adore having Clorinde sit on her lap while she rides her fingers too in the future.

Navia rocks her hips back and forth to help Clorinde with fingering her puss*. It feels so f*cking good.

At home, Clorinde would often hold a small vibrator to her cl*t while Navia rode her, fingers or strap, to intensify her pleasure— but here, in the quiet dressing room of Mademoiselle Navia Caspar, they couldn’t risk it.

But it’s the risk of even doing this that turns her so painfully on.

When she looks down, she can see a trail of her wetness dripping down Clorinde’s long fingers, collecting at her wrist. The vulgar sight of it makes Navia moan loudly, and she throws her head back to get lost in the feeling.

Clorinde hisses, sitting forward to capture Navia in a kiss to suppress her from moaning any louder.

Navia just moans against her lips.

“Mon amour, you know I love it when you’re loud,” Clorinde murmurs against her mouth, sounding positively breathlessly. “But you’re—”

And as if to help her case, someone knocks on the door.

Neither of them freeze.

Clorinde just slows her pace to prevent making those suctiony, wet noises that her fast fingers make inside of Navia’s puss*, and Navia slows the roll of her hips just enough to continue enjoying herself without making the sofa creak.

“Um,” someone calls from the other side of the door. She sounds unsure of herself, but she clears her throat and tries again with, “Miss Caspar is on in fifteen minutes.”

Navia shoots Clorinde a sharp look. She stills her hips entirely.

She curses under her breath and tries to slide off Clorinde’s lap, but Clorinde keeps her in place with one hand on her hip.

Clorinde shakes her head. Her fingers move a little bit faster inside of Navia.

Navia gasps inwardly, stifling her moan as best as she can. She stays put, resting her knees on either side of Clorinde’s lap, and closes her eyes to lose herself in the feeling. She can feel Clorinde staring at her even with her eyes closed.

“Thank you!” Clorinde calls to the assistant on the other side. Her fingers are still moving inside of Navia, and Navia begins to roll her hips again against her. “I’ll make sure Miss Caspar is ready before then.”

“Would you like me to call someone to help either of you?” the assistant asks. “The dress is quite complicated. I’m sure no one would mind if she needed—”

“It’s alright,” Clorinde calls out again. There’s nothing in her voice to give away what they’re doing. She sounds polite and even, all while Navia is struggling not to let out a sound.

Navia whimpers lowly, and she leans forward to press her face against Clorinde’s shoulder to muffle the rest of her noises. She’s beginning to tremble all over from the feeling. Her hips want to give out, but it just feels too good.

“If you’re sure,” the assistant says again, sounding hesitant. “If you need anything, we’re all outside.”

Meaning that all of Navia’s assistants are outside.

Navia moans quietly against Clorinde’s neck.

Clorinde kisses her hairline. She murmurs something, but Navia is too focused in trying not to whine out loud to decipher what it is.

She figures it out too late in the end.

Clorinde adjusts her position on the sofa, her fingers still inside of Navia, and for a moment, Navia thinks that they would be done right there and continue where they left off after her appearance on the runway for Fontaine Fashion Week.

But then Clorinde shoves her fingers deep inside Navia, and her pace becomes unforgiving.

Navia gasps loudly, and Clorinde hushes her gently and quietly.

A stray whimper falls out of her mouth, and Navia is left shivering against Clorinde’s chest and wrapped in her arm.

It doesn’t help when Clorinde begins to press her thumb against her cl*t, and she starts to move it in slow, languid movements to juxtapose it from the brutal pacing of her fingers inside.

“I’m sorry,” the assistant calls again from the other side. The reappearance of a person outside of their door has Navia whimpering pathetically against Clorinde’s chest. “I had the time wrong. Rege just told me that Miss Caspar needs to be on in ten. Will she have the time?”

Clorinde’s fingers beckon something inside of Navia until it feels like the tidal waving is receding.

She knows exactly what it means.

“Clorinde,” Navia gasps quietly. It’s a warning.

But Clorinde just kisses her. The press of her lips is warm and firm.

“Cum for me,” Clorinde whispers very, very quietly. Navia almost hadn’t heard it. “It’s okay. Cum on my fingers, Navia.”

And Navia does, twitching and gasping and rolling her hips.

It feels good to cum, but she has to blink away tears from the force of trying not to be loud.

Her mouth is open, but she forces to keep everything inside. It forces her chest to begin to tremble, and Clorinde just continues moving her fingers in and out of her to beckon everything she can out of her.

Clorinde clears her throat.

With her mind foggy, Navia doesn’t understand why, until Clorinde loudly says, “I’ll have her out before she’s needed in three. Thank you.”

The assistant’s footsteps fade away, just in time for Navia to collapse against Clorinde in a messy, quiet heap.

It was both the best and worst org*sm she’s ever had.

Clorinde merely laughs, pressing another kiss to Navia’s tired lips. Navia can feel the rumble of her laugh in her chest, and she smooths a hand over Clorinde’s collarbone to feel it closer to her.

“I don’t think I can walk properly on the runway,” she grumbles.

Clorinde chuckles again. “I’m sure you can,” she hums, pressing a kiss to Navia’s forehead.

“Easy for you to say,” Navia bites.

“Quite easy,” Clorinde answers, her smile almost baring her fangs.

Navia surges forward to kiss her again. It’s messy, and their teeth clash, but she really doesn’t care.

Navia begins to move her hips again.

She’s bouncing on Clorinde’s fingers, in gentle, microscopic movements, up and down. She’s almost sorry that neither of them had half the mind to remember to turn on one of their home video cameras, just like they sometimes do in the apartment during their fun, to capture this moment.

The guttural noise Clorinde makes in the back of her throat is almost animalistic. She grips Navia’s hip with her other hand and feels her up, and Navia surges forward to kiss her again.

“More?” Clorinde asks huskily. She’s looking at Navia through her eyelashes, and her smile is dark with want.

“Yes,” Navia whines. She sits up to put her hands on Clorinde’s strong stomach. She braces herself like that to let herself bounce more fluidly and quickly on Clorinde’s fingers. Clorinde sits back to enjoy the view, and Navia throws her head back with an open mouth, though soundless to keep themselves from getting caught.

Clorinde puts her hand on Navia’s open throat, squeezes gently in blatant desire, and lets her hand drag down to Navia’s bouncing breasts.

Navia can feel herself clench around her fingers. The low chuckle that Clorinde lets out is blatant praise.

“How much time?” Navia pants.

“Eight minutes,” Clorinde says. She doesn’t sound at all concerned. “Think you can cum in two so we can get you dressed and out before you’re needed?”

Navia leans forward to kiss her with a low, desirable giggle.

“Finger me a little bit faster and we’ll see,” she says.

Navia ends up out of the door with only three minutes remaining, just as Clorinde promised.

On the second day of Fontaine Fashion Week, they don’t have sex before her appearance like they had on the first day. As tempting as it is, they both know they would have to face the wrath of Chiori if Navia came onto the runway with her new dress even a few seconds late.

So instead, Clorinde tugs her inside her dressing room after her appearance, hungrily captures her lips in a messy kiss, and begins to lower the zipper on the back of her dress with careless fingers.

“Careful!” Navia chides, but she’s giggling into Clorinde’s kisses. “If you rip this dress, Chiori’s going to make you pay for it in full.”

“I couldn’t care less,” Clorinde grunts against her lips. She’s still fiddling with the dress’ zipper, desperately trying to tug it all the way down. “I’ll pay her back with 200% interest if she wants. She can take my card. I just want you out of this,” she hisses.

“Don’t let Chiori hear you say— Clorinde!” Navia moans, tilting her chin up to let Clorinde continue kissing her on the column of her neck. Clorinde has already managed to wrangle her out of her dress, letting it pool around Navia’s ankles while her fingers fit in between Navia’s legs to rub her cl*t.

Clorinde laughs against her neck. “While you were in intermission, I drove back home to get us some lube.”

“Really?” Navia asks, pleased at the news. She looks around the room to find it, and sees the bottle of lube sitting near her sofa. She grins. Clorinde is still kissing up and down her neck, but now she’s sucking a spot right where she knows is just barely hidden with a shirt.

“You couldn’t wait until we got back?” she teases, but she already knows the answer.

“No, and neither could you,” Clorinde says frankly. She presses a finger inside of Navia, but only until the first knuckle. Still, it makes Navia exhale softly in pleasure. “You’re already wet,” she points out, flashing her teeth in a small grin.

“I was thinking about you f*cking me the entire time I was there,” Navia hisses. She puts her arms over Clorinde’s neck and pulls her in for a heady kiss.

“I couldn’t risk bringing the harness. Faustier can be a little nosy, but I suppose it’s a good trait to have as your security,” Clorinde murmurs against her lips. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Don’t care,” Navia says distractedly. She kisses Clorinde again, running the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip.

“Want me to put my tongue in your puss*?” Clorinde whispers, sounding almost hopeful. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you sitting on my face the entire time you were on the runway, if I were being completely honest.”

Navia feels that familiar excited ache in her stomach at the confession. So that’s why Clorinde’s stare from the audience was so… sharp. And she quite likes the thought.

But a better idea reaches her foggy mind instead.

“I wanna rub my puss* against yours first,” Navia says with a low moan. “We can make use of the lube that way.” But with how wet she already is, she doubts they need a lot of it, or to use it at all.

Clorinde’s moan is just as pleased as hers.

She tackles Navia into another kiss, wrapping her in her arms and heaving her upwards to take her to the sofa. Clearly, it was the right thing to suggest.

Navia gets Clorinde out of her clothes in less than five minutes. Her magic trick from years of being on the Fontaine Fashion Runway.

Clorinde bites down on her collarbone, teeth sharp and uninhibited against her skin. Navia openly gasps, and Clorinde takes that chance to slide the dress down her shoulder, careful not to ruin it. She knows from the way Clorinde fits against her body that Clorinde is trying desperately not to rip this dress off of her— but, again, they both know that Chiori would have both of their heads on a stick.

With the both of them bare and vulnerable to the quiet dressing room, Navia swipes her sloppy tongue against Clorinde’s mouth. It makes a particularly obscene noise as Clorinde opens her lips to let her tongue in, their saliva dripping down both of their mouths, but all it does is make Navia giggle and Clorinde grope her ass in clear approval.

With sharp eyes that never seem to leave hers, Clorinde lies down on her back against the sofa and spreads her legs open in that sensual, vexatious way of hers.

Clorinde spreads her folds open for Navia to spread some lube on it. Navia rubs circles around Clorinde’s cl*t, both to spread the viscous liquid and to tease her, and Clorinde moans lowly as she lays her head against the plush throw pillows.

Navia leans over to capture Clorinde’s messy mouth in a greedy kiss. Right before she leans away, she slots herself between Clorinde’s legs and presses their puss*es together.

Almost as if through the haze, Clorinde reaches a hand to paw at her chest clumsily. For a moment, Navia thinks that she’s doing it to grab onto her boob. With a dark chuckle, Navia grabs her hand and guides it to her breast, and Clorinde squeezes it almost in reflex. Navia throws her head back with a low whine.

But then Clorinde’s hand reaches farther upwards, until her warm fingertips find the silver chain of Navia’s necklace. Clorinde wraps it around her finger. She tugs.

Confused, Navia stops moving. She’s breathing hard as she looks down at Clorinde, questioning.

Clorinde visibly swallows. She sits up against the sofa arm, reaches with two hands to the back of Navia’s neck, softly brushing Navia’s hair aside like Navia is made of glass and devout in nature, and unclips Navia’s sword necklace.

Clorinde places the necklace on the coffee table. It’s neither thrown nor placed haphazardly— it’s done so with care. But even then, the action puts a lump in Navia’s throat.

But then Navia starts to rub them together, with slow, sensual up and down movements, and the noises it makes is enough to make Navia’s head dizzy with absolute pleasure. Each stroke of her cl*t against Clorinde’s like a bolt through her core, and the fog of pleasure returns. She no longer has to think about anything else.

Their moans get lost together, erotic and carnal.

Chiori’s specially-made dress lies abandoned on the floor for the next three hours.

The sharp honk of Clorinde’s car pulls them both apart from their heady makeout session, but Navia’s giggle is caught in her throat when she feels the sharp sting arise from her elbow.

She hisses, rubbing her elbow, and Clorinde puts a hand on top of her arm. When she looks up, there is tender concern in Clorinde’s eyes. It stops Navia’s heart for just a moment.

“Are you alright?” she murmurs, rubbing Navia’s forearm.

“Just fine,” Navia says through gritted teeth. She winces again when she tries to flex her arm, and she adds, “But I think you should start investing in better seats in your car. Or, at least ones that can go back just a tiny bit more.”

Clorinde laughs, curling a finger under Navia’s chin to capture her in a quick but pleasant kiss. She’s still rubbing Navia’s arm.

She’s holding Navia like she’s hers to dote over.

Navia swallows what feels like a sharp needle in her throat and pulls back from the kiss.

She smiles at Clorinde, grinding slowly on her lap. Clorinde watches her, leaning her head back against the headrest with a content smile of her own. She places her hands on Navia’s hips to feel her roll up and down.

“Your apartment is only a short walk away,” Clorinde says, her voice gravelly with desire.

“Why take it to the apartment when I can f*ck you here?” Navia whispers, leaning forward until their chests press together. She begins to grind harder and faster in Clorinde’s lap, and Clorinde watches her with such sharp want that Navia can’t help but let out a small moan.

“Because we’re in a public parking lot,” Clorinde responds, but it sounds as if she’s grinding her teeth together. “And frankly, I don’t want to get you into a bigger scandal because of me.”

“Don’t pretend a part of you wasn’t preening at the headlines about you being so lucky,” Navia says, only a small bite to her words. She braces herself against the window to continue grinding on Clorinde’s lap, and Clorinde’s chest is beginning to rise and fall at a more rapid pace. Good, she thinks.

Navia leans over to kiss her breathlessly, then presses her plump lips to the corner of Clorinde’s mouth to her cheek and over to the shell of her ear. She’s still grinding on her lap, and much harder than she had before. Clorinde is holding onto her like she doesn’t want Navia to leave.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” Navia teases lowly, whispering in her ear. She can feel Clorinde suck in a sharp breath. “You liked knowing that you were the only person who could see me like this. You liked knowing that everyone knew it.”

The noise Clorinde makes is both pleasure and shame. It makes Navia smile.

She kisses Clorinde’s open mouth and moans into their kiss, and then she takes Clorinde’s wrist and places it on her shirt, right over her breast. She feels Clorinde squeeze, almost as a reflex, and Navia leans into her further in delight.

“Bedroom,” Clorinde pants. Her eyes are wide and pleading as she looks up at Navia. “Please.”

“Please what?” Navia taunts.

Clorinde’s exhale is close to a whimper. Navia’s smile stretches into a pleased grin, and her grinding starts to stagnate. It only frustrates Clorinde further, and Navia relishes in the look on her face and her shaky exhales.

“Let me take you inside to your bedroom and make you feel good,” Clorinde exhales. “Please, Navia.”

Navia giggles and rewards her with an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss. “Roll a die.”

Clorinde blinks at her, still out of breath and dazed. “What?”

“You keep a d20 in your glove compartment, do you not?” Navia asks innocently, the roll of her hips clearly doing no favors in keeping Clorinde’s memory in check. She remembers Clorinde keeping a few spare dice in her car in case someone at the Tabletop Troupe had forgotten to bring some. Always so prepared and thoughtful.

“I… I do, yes,” Clorinde says, nearly stumbling forward onto her words.

She thought so.

Navia smiles, but it doesn’t feel quite as mischievous as her last smile down at Clorinde. It’s warmer.

Clorinde tries her best to sit up, reaching out an arm to open the glove compartment to rummage through it. Navia dips her head to suck on Clorinde’s pulse point in her neck, but eventually, Clorinde finds what she’s looking for even with the distraction.

“What do you need it for?” Clorinde asks with a frown, pawning the shiny purple die over to Navia.

“If you roll higher than me, then you can do whatever you’d like with me,” Navia offers simply. “If I roll higher than you, then I get to tie you up on my bed with something that just came in.”

Clorinde’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but she doesn’t look put off by the idea. “I thought you were joking about wanting to get those fancy bed restraints.”

Navia shakes her head, biting her lower lip in barely contained excitement. “I ordered them last night. The package arrived this morning,” she replies, leaning over to capture Clorinde in a needy kiss. “C’mon. You don’t even want to humor me, even a little bit?” she teases quietly, lips ghosting close to Clorinde’s mouth.

Clorinde exhales, half of a laugh and half of a pleasured sigh. She grips Navia’s hips tightly as she says, “Alright. I’ll play your game. Roll first, and you can roll for me afterwards.”

Navia tilts her head. “You don’t want to try rolling for yourself?”

“Ordinarily, I would,” Clorinde admits, tilting her head forward to kiss Navia chastely. “But how you’re grinding on my lap proves to be a little… distracting,” she continues quietly.

Navia laughs, hard, at that.

Still, she complies and shakes the die in her fist. She throws it onto the dashboard while she continues to gently grind on Clorinde’s lap.

A 15.

She rerolls for Clorinde this time.

A natural 20.

Clorinde rushes forward to kiss her in a victorious, heady kiss. Navia just laughs into it. She can always find use for the bed restraints another time— or, maybe Clorinde would like to use them on her tonight. The thought alone makes her moan into their kiss.

“Just try not to grab your dild* this time,” Navia teases, just right after Clorinde finishes sucking on her bottom lip. “Frankly, I think it’s a little insulting that you think I can only take that much.”

She giggles at the memory. Just yesterday, Clorinde had grabbed her yellow six inch dild* instead of Navia’s neon purple ten incher for a little bit of penetration fun for Navia.

It’s not the size difference that makes her laugh; it’s the fact that Clorinde was so horny from the thought of wanting to breed her (a bedroom hunting roleplay thing that had rope and— well, it’s a long story) that she couldn’t tell her purples from her yellows.

Clorinde laughs hoarsely against her lips. She kisses her chastely, then answers smartly, “You may find this hard to believe, but most people with vagin*s don’t use ten-inch dild*s.”

“You love using it on me though,” Navia purrs, squeezing Clorinde’s cheeks in her hand.

She can see Clorinde’s eyes dilate in the sunlight. It makes her heart skip a beat, knowing that at least in some way, Clorinde wants her.

“I do,” Clorinde whispers darkly. She shifts in the car seat, then strikes Navia’s ass hard. It makes Navia openly gasp in delight, and Clorinde laughs as she continues, “They don’t call you The Queen or King for nothing.”

Navia tilts her head, slightly confused. “But I was only called ‘King’ for that one movie?” she muses, almost to herself. “Y’know, ‘The King of Metropole’? What does that have to do with—?”

Clorinde tilts her chin down and raises her eyebrow at her, the corner of her lips twitching upwards into a knowing smirk.

“Oh!” Navia squeaks. She means in size.

She slaps Clorinde’s shoulder, whining, but Clorinde is just openly laughing deep from her stomach.

“Do you remember the antique guns you keep in that storage room you have?” Navia asks her innocently, punctuating with the bat of the eyelashes and her hands on Clorinde’s strong abs. She can’t wait to rub her puss* on it and cover Clorinde in her wetness later as foreplay.

Clorinde tilts her head at her, immediately suspicious. “Yes,” she answers slowly. “Why?”

“Do they work?”

Clorinde takes a moment to think about it. “Many of the pistols are from the sixteenth century. I was warned that they may be volatile from age, hence why I keep them locked in a storage facility. Though some of them are modern replicas that have been carefully inspected.”

Navia runs her fingers underneath Clorinde’s shirt to play with her sides and feel her every intake of breath. “How long is it?”

“Hmm?” It’s clear that Clorinde is getting distracted by the massaging.

“The modern replicas. The ‘safe’ ones.”

“From the breech to the muzzle? Generally nine inches, but a few make it up to twelve,” Clorinde answers nonchalantly, as if Navia is asking her a trivia question.

Navia stills her fingers.

Clorinde raises an eyebrow at her, puzzled.

Then her eyes widen just slightly, her mouth parts in understanding, and Clorinde sits up so fast that they almost bump heads.

“Navia!” she yelps, looking aghast.

Navia is laughing so hard on Clorinde’s lap that she can barely get out her words. “W— what?” she asks, still wheezing and nodding her head with a big, mischievous grin.

She expects Clorinde to lecture her. Or to roll her eyes and tell her that they should head inside with their normal, run-of-the-mill sex toys and ropes.

But then whatever shock had struck Clorinde’s system seems to subside, and she shrugs and says, “Well, as long as we have the proper foreplay and you promise not to skim on the lube, I think it would make for a wonderful new roleplay on a boring night.”

“You’re serious?” Navia asks, astonished.

“Weren’t you?” The fanged grin on Clorinde’s face tells her that she’s teasing her.

She should have known that Clorinde wasn’t one to back down from her challenges.

So Navia laughs, full and happy and excited deep from the core, and cups her face for a needy kiss. She can feel Clorinde grinning against her lips as she keeps giggling.

In this little cramped space in Clorinde’s old beat up car, Navia can pretend that they’re skipping out on a lecture together. That these are simpler times, where her sword necklace doesn’t hang from the rearview mirror like an omen.

The car honks again when Navia accidentally elbows it after she rushes forward to tackle her into a kiss, but neither of them really care.

Navia spreads her legs in front of the camera that Clorinde holds up to her face.

She moans wantonly, putting two fingers inside of herself to make a show for how incredibly wet she is.

Even behind the camera, Navia can tell that Clorinde is razor-focused on her. That her eyes never leave the star of the film in front of her.

Clorinde massages the side of her thigh as Navia keeps playing with herself. Navia sees her fingers begin to move closer up to where she’s fingering herself, desperate to please her.

“Oh baby, don’t do that,” Navia moans, throwing her head back and fingering herself faster, “just take the film.”

And obediently, Clorinde does.

The camera never leaves Navia.

Clorinde’s eyes never leave her.

She wonders why Clorinde let her keep the necklace on for this secret film of theirs when she’d been asked to take it off for “preventing identification” the other times before it.

Will it be a guilty pleasure for Clorinde’s lonely nights?

With that thought in mind, Navia f*cks herself faster with Clorinde’s hand massaging the side of her thigh, moaning and whining in all the ways she knows Clorinde likes it. If Clorinde is going to watch this over and over, then she’ll give her a show.

Navia tugs on the back of Clorinde’s swimsuit.

Clorinde’s eyes flutter open, and a small smile appears on her face. She hums, and then she asks, a small tease to her tone, “Now, bébé?”

“Is there something wrong with ‘now’?” Navia asks distractedly, still trying to find a way to get the knot on the back of Clorinde’s swimsuit loose. They’ve only been in the hot tub for five minutes, after Navia had dragged her out of the apartment before Clorinde can do that pointless, looking-around habit of hers, but something about seeing Clorinde’s breasts so full in this swimsuit is driving her, frankly, a little nuts.

And sure, they f*cked just an hour ago.

Sure, they were at a Spina gala a few hours prior to that, with Navia controlling a toy inside of Clorinde to watch her painstakingly try to get through the night without breaking, watching as Clorinde would nearly “trip” each time Navia would “accidentally” turn up the intensity and make her beg to make it stop, but why pass up another chance to have Clorinde again?

It’s not like she can have Clorinde in any other way.

“Not at all,” Clorinde says easily, sipping at her champagne flute as she watches Navia with absolute devilry. Navia fingers the strong knot at the back of her swimsuit with a grunt. Why does Clorinde need to tie her swimsuits that hard?

“Would you like some help?” Clorinde teases.

Navia grumbles, giving the knot in the back of her swimsuit another tug. “Maybe,” she says, defeated, with an exhale.

Clorinde laughs, carefully treading the water to close what little distance is left between them. She kisses Navia gently, gingerly taking her wrist and placing it back onto the knot behind her.

She guides Navia’s fingers into a loop.

Navia gets it loose, then tugs on the knot once more.

Clorinde’s top comes loose, and it floats away on the hot tub.

Navia stares at her full breasts for a moment, then licks her lips. She places her champagne flute on the lip of the hot tub, then surges forward to kiss Clorinde hungrily on the mouth.

She can feel Clorinde smiling into their kiss.

The silver sword necklace lies next to the hot tub. Clorinde had asked her to take it off to make sure that it didn’t stain from the water— and Navia pretends not to remember that the necklace can’t stain.

Greedily, Navia palms one of her nipples. Clorinde sighs blissfully against her face. She smells like bulle fruit. It distracts her enough to lean down to suckle on Clorinde’s nipple for a few moments.

She tastes like sweat and bulle fruit, just as Navia expected. It’s addictive. She can get drunk on this.

Navia lets go of her nipple with a small pop and surges upwards to kiss her mouth hard. She’s panting into the kiss, already excited to watch Clorinde unravel in her arms, all in the safety of her private hot tub on this starry night.

“Say my name when I make you cum,” Navia mumbles close to her ear. Her hand is already dragging south on Clorinde’s body. “I want to hear you say my name.”

Clorinde moans softly when her middle finger pushes inside of her gently. She throws her head back, and Navia watches how her neck strains with the feeling of her finger pumping inside.

Clorinde puts a hand on her cheek and kisses her messily. She almost misses Navia’s mouth all together with the way she pants into the kiss.

“I’ll say your name as many times as you’d like me to,” Clorinde whispers to her. She sighs contentedly when Navia adds a second finger. “There’s no one else but you.”

Navia kisses her to distract herself from the way her chest clenches at that.

“Stop that,” Clorinde says plainly.

“Stop what?” Navia asks, playing innocent.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I have no idea,” Navia purrs, leaning over the kitchen counter, “what you’re talking about.”

“You’re staring at me like— like that,” Clorinde says, stammering on her words.

Navia shakes her head, but the corners of her lips twitch. “Staring at you like what? I’m just trying to make dinner,” Navia teases.

They just got home a few moments ago. Clorinde hadn’t even gotten the chance to stick her hand underneath the lamp.

“Navia,” Clorinde says tightly.

“What?” Navia asks, gliding over to Clorinde’s side with a harmless smile. She hooks a finger on Clorinde’s waistband and tugs her gently.

Navia kisses the corner of Clorinde’s tight jaw.

“Is it a crime to be staring at how good you look in my kitchen, minou?” she whispers.

She doesn’t know if it’s the blatant teasing in her tone or the pet name that sets Clorinde off.

Either way, Clorinde makes a frustrated growl in the back of her throat, and she lunges forward, hand wrapped on Navia’s throat, and kisses her deeply.

Navia moans into the kiss, just as much as she smiles into it.

She looks down just in time to see Clorinde hurriedly stripping her belt off of her jeans.

Before she can make a comment on it, Clorinde’s hand returns back to her neck, not pushing or pulling but laying there, a promise, and kisses her roughly.

“Get on your knees for me,” Clorinde murmurs in her ear.

Navia does what’s asked of her without another word.

Clorinde is reading a book on the right side of her bed. The lamp is on, and there’s a concentrated look on her face as she continues to flit her eyes back and forth on the pages with her finger rhythmically thumping on the back of her book.

Navia crawls on the bed, making her way on top of her.

Clorinde isn’t lost on her intention.

She peers up at Navia with a raised eyebrow. She’s already placing a bookmark in her book as she asks, “You aren’t tired from what we did just this morning?”

“You already know the answer to that,” Navia says with a small hum.

She makes her way on top of Clorinde, cupping her face to kiss her. Clorinde kisses back with just as much vigor. It emboldens her.

“Keep reading,” Navia commands.

Navia watches her scrunch her brow up in confusion for just a moment before she’s already dipping her head under the blankets and pulling off Clorinde’s underwear.

She feels Clorinde moan brokenly as her tongue darts out to swirl around her folds.

Navia loves how she tastes, especially after a long day. She tastes salty with a hint of sweetness, and Navia can’t seem to get enough of it.

She puts her finger inside of Clorinde and fingers her gently, letting it go in tandem with the way she sucks on Clorinde’s stiffened cl*t.

“Mm, Navia!” Clorinde chokes out. Her hand goes to clutch Navia’s soft curls. “Navia, Navia, oh god, Navia—”

Her name has never sounded so good. Not even the chanting of a hundred thousand people in a stadium can compare.

Clorinde c*ms with a louder, even more broken moan, and her thighs shake on either side of Navia. Her fingers are carded through Navia’s hair, gently pushing it backwards to keep it out of Navia’s face.

Navia cleans up her mess with a few more broad strokes of her tongue, swallows it gratefully, then looks up.

Clorinde has her book laying flat on her stomach, opened to a random page. She’s breathing heavily, and Navia thinks that she looks absolutely beautiful like this.

Navia crawls upwards to kiss her.

When she lets go, Clorinde twists her necklace around her finger and tugs her in for a deeper kiss.

“Your turn,” Clorinde whispers, and Navia is flipped onto the bed without much warning.

The manhandling turns Navia on in an instant. She grins up at Clorinde, watching as Clorinde kisses her neck to her chest to her navel and to either side of her thighs. Clorinde has never been one to skip out on foreplay.

Navia’s moans pierces much louder in the room than Clorinde’s small sighs of pleasure. Clorinde’s tongue strikes and prods, even teasing her entrance with its wet, malleable length.

She c*ms loud and hard, jerking her hips up to Clorinde’s nose, but Clorinde has never minded it in the past, and she doesn’t mind it now.

Clorinde kisses her cl*t while she maintains eye contact with a sweaty Navia. She licks her lips.

Navia moans at the sight of Clorinde’s sweaty face between her thighs, and she puts her hand on top of her head and gently pushes Clorinde back into her puss*.

She sees Clorinde smile before darting her tongue back between her folds.

Navia moans wantonly, putting her elbow over her eyes and resting her head on the pillow.

Her second org*sm comes quickly. It doesn’t even take a minute before the pool in her stomach tightens and she’s moaning Clorinde’s name and rolling her hips.

Clorinde kisses her cl*t once more, and she’s laughing as she looks back up.

“You’re ravenous,” Clorinde says with remnants of her laugh.

“I haven’t had a tongue on my puss* in three years,” Navia hisses, and though her words are rough, her fingers comb through Clorinde’s hair with the gentleness of sun kissing the pavement. “How could I not be?” she asks, almost teasing.

She feels and sees Clorinde freeze.

Navia watches her, confused— until she realizes the mistake she’s made.

“You haven’t been with anyone else?” Clorinde asks her.

Her tone is level. She says it almost casually, even.

But Navia knows her better than that. She knows how to spot the hesitance from the way Clorinde’s breath hitches, and how she herself can’t seem to breathe either.

Navia tries to distract herself by continuing to comb her fingers through Clorinde’s hair. It helps, just a little.

For a moment, she weighs her options in what to say.

In the end, she decides to be truthful. At least, truthful enough.

“Not really,” Navia says, trying to sound nonchalant. “I had a few— flings, here and there. But never… we never got to this.”

This, being Clorinde in between her thighs, looking up at her like she’s the light beholden to the candle.

Navia swallows the sword in her throat.

“I see,” Clorinde says.

She can’t read what’s on Clorinde’s mind. It frustrates her. She used to be able to read everything on her mind, and now, she can barely understand how the way Clorinde is looking at her right in this moment is meant to convey.

Is it pity?

Relief?

She can’t make heads or tails of it. She’s not sure if Clorinde feels dejection or happiness. She’s not sure what she even wants Clorinde to feel.

To keep herself from losing herself in the implications, Navia puts her hand on Clorinde’s cheek, watches how easily Clorinde leans into it, strokes her with the pad of her thumb, and whispers, “Make me feel good again.”

Clorinde kisses the inside of her thigh, and she obeys without another word.

She’s sensitive all over, but she doesn’t care. She just pushes Clorinde’s head deeper into her puss* and moans until her chest stutters, blinking through the sensitivity and gritting her teeth.

And she c*ms, twice, then three times; and she gasps, “More. Give me more, Clorinde.”

Navia sucks on Clorinde’s cl*t in the Spina di Rosula building, in the closet on the second floor in the west wing.

They make out against the door to Navia’s apartment right before Clorinde leaves for a meeting with Neuvillette.

When they both realize that Navia’s recording studio is both private and soundproof, it doesn’t take long for them to stay overnight and f*ck inside the studio with the lights down low.

Navia asks to have private windows installed in almost every chauffeured Spina vehicle, but it’s much harder to explain away the stains in the back of one particular limo.

Clorinde f*cks her just an hour before a red carpet event, and Navia finds a few fans questioning her gait; thankfully, blue purse she holds that matches Clorinde’s streaked hair is paid more attention to than how she walks.

Sex in the shower is just as… dry as she remembers it to be from a few years ago. Still, they manage to get each other off with some trusty lube and some resilience, and they continue what they started in the shower on the bed, hair damp and all.

In Navia’s private gym, she asks Clorinde to show her the proper form for a deadlift. She doesn’t mention that she’s already been shown by multiple personal trainers, and she doesn’t say anything when Clorinde puts her hands on places she doesn’t have to.

And, instead of having to take the time to set up a barbell and a pad, Navia obediently sits down on her lap for Clorinde’s hip thrust sets. Which, ironically, also ends in hip thrusts in the bedroom.

Navia manages to get Clorinde squirting on her yacht— multiple times, even. It’s a fact that she’s intensely proud of, even if it’s slightly dampened by the realization that it was a fantasy she had been meaning to carry with her many years ago before she could have even afforded half of her yacht.

But the guilt never stays for long, not when they manage to find the time to lock lips or f*ck each other in almost every surface of her apartment and otherwise.

Navia even makes her keep her gloves on while she fingers her in the green room thirty minutes before she has to be on set.

She gasps and moans when Clorinde cleans her up with her tongue, just seconds after her org*sms and still sensitive.

The aftercare is always good, though. It’s not something that Navia can complain about, especially not when Clorinde always makes sure to keep her hydrated and well-fed, letting her press against her body so that she can rub her back and play with her hair.

But it’s still unlike years before, when their aftercare also consisted of Clorinde kissing the top of her head, telling her just how much she adored her and loved her— and held her tighter as if Navia would never be alone.

Navia tries not to think too hard about it.

She finds that she’s been doing that quite a lot lately.

While recovering from their org*sms on one leisure morning, Navia leans against Clorinde’s gentle chest while she scrolls through social media.

She makes a face to herself. There are people talking about rumors of Furina and Clorinde dating, unearthed from paparazzi pictures of them enjoying some tea. Can’t friends have tea? She’s certain that she’s seen rumors of them dating in the past too.

Navia moves away from her chest and Clorinde shifts, groggily opening her eyes to see what’s wrong.

Navia sits on her lap. That certainly does the trick in waking Clorinde up from her little nap.

“Can I take a picture of us kissing?” Navia asks her innocently, rubbing the inside of her thigh soothingly.

Clorinde blinks the surprise and sleep away. “Yes, but why would you need—?”

Navia squishes her cheeks with a hand and kisses her deeply. She feels Clorinde sigh into the kiss, fondly and exasperatedly.

The flash on her phone nearly blinds them both, and she lets go of Clorinde to type something on her phone.

She can feel Clorinde staring at her the entire time. It makes Navia giggle.

“Are you going to tell me why you just did that?” Clorinde asks, sounding more amused than perturbed. She has her hand on Navia’s hip, fingers underneath Navia’s loose shirt to play with the smooth skin there.

“It’ll help keep our whole shtick up,” Navia chirps.

She presses something on the corner of her phone and declares, “Aaaaand sent! Wanna see what I just posted? You looked so cute in it!”

She already has her phone up in Clorinde’s face for her to see.

But Clorinde just chuckles, batting her phone away.

“I’ll most likely have it sent to me by at least three different people throughout the day,” Clorinde says. She’s still rubbing circles on Navia’s hip. Her gentle smile as she looks up at Navia on her lap is… disarming. “Do you have anything planned for the rest of your day?”

Navia hums. “Having sex with you?”

Clorinde barks out a short laugh. “Other than that,” she corrects, and Navia is delighted to realize that she hadn’t denied it at all.

Not that she would have. They’ve been f*cking so much that Melus and Silver have taken to knocking three separate times before entering any room they’re in.

“Well,” Navia says, looking up at the corner of the room to conjure the mental image of her calendar. “A few of us want to meet up at Café Lutece to catch up. And then after that, Melus and Silver want us back at the Spina’s to talk about something. Probably about my tour and all the security stuff you requested to implement last week.”

Clorinde hums. She’s still rubbing Navia’s skin in that achingly familiar way that Navia wants to bat her hand away as much as she wants to shove Clorinde’s hand further down her shirt.

“Well, I hope you have fun catching up,” Clorinde just says. She’s still smiling at Navia. It’s bordering on fond. “Since I doubt you’d like me to shadow you on your get-together, I’ll ask Faustier, Florian, and maybe one or two others to come along with you. I’ve been meaning to investigate something with Captain Chevreuse. Maybe I’ll look into that while you’re gone,” she muses.

Navia pecks her lips. “Well, if you do, be careful,” she says with a hum. “And stay safe.”

Please, she wants to add.

But begging Clorinde to be gentle with herself would be like admitting something crucial to court, sentencing her for life, and so she doesn’t.

Clorinde chuckles at her blasé tone. She pecks Navia’s lips for a second kiss. “I will be,” she promises, and there’s that stupid, achingly gentle smile on her face again. Navia tries her best not to look away.

“Faustier and Florian will take you back to the Spina, and I will meet you there,” Clorinde continues, placing a finger underneath Navia’s chin to look at her. It makes something twist in Navia’s stomach— if it’s butterflies or snakes, she can’t tell. Maybe it’s both. “Unless you’d like me to come get you from the Café. In which case, I don’t mind. It’s up to you.”

Navia feigns a happy laugh. “What, you don’t trust two bodyguards to keep me safe for one morning?” she teases, gently batting Clorinde’s hand away from her chin.

“I trust their capabilities to keep you as safe as possible,” Clorinde says simply, shifting in her seat, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t prefer my capability when it comes to you.”

Navia exhales fondly, pats her knee, then rises from her seat on Clorinde’s lap. She ignores how her heart skips a beat when she realizes that Clorinde doesn’t take her eyes off of her.

“Well, I should get ready before Lumine starts making a fuss about me being late again,” Navia says nonchalantly, jabbing a thumb in the direction of her bedroom. She rocks back and forth on her tiptoes and heels, biting on the skin of her lower lip.

“I’ll see you later?” she remarks, almost hopefully.

“Of course.” Clorinde nods shortly. “I’ll wait until your chauffeur arrives and walk you to the car. Remember—”

“Use the poison kit you gave me to test every drink and call you when something around me feels off.” Navia rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “I know, I know. You give me the same exact lecture every single time we’re apart for half a minute!” she exclaims, but Clorinde just laughs.

She lingers on the sight of Clorinde staring at the window with a content smile before heading to her bedroom. She sighs as soon her door closes.

As promised, Clorinde walks her outside when they get a call from her chauffeur. Florian and Faustier are already waiting for her, and each of them shake Navia’s hand and nod respectfully at Clorinde. Florian even gulps when Clorinde’s gaze lingers on him, and Navia has to press her lips together to keep from laughing. The poor guy must be scared of her.

“Call me when you’re on your way to the head office,” Clorinde says, ducking her head to look at her sitting in the back seat. She has her hand on top of the car’s roof to keep the Spina’s chauffeur from driving off.

“I’ll call you when I get there and when I leave,” Navia promises.

Clorinde visibly relaxes. She smiles as a form of thanks. “Have fun,” Clorinde says, ever so softly.

Navia smiles back at her, and it feels a little odd on her face.

Just a little over three years ago, this is the part where Clorinde would duck her head deeper into the back seat to give her a peck on the lips.

And then Navia would tell her that she loves her, and Clorinde would smile, kiss her one more time, and tell her that she loves her too.

But Navia says nothing other than, “I will. And you be safe too, Clorinde.”

Clorinde nods her head, straightens back her spine, closes Navia’s door, and taps on the window of the passenger seat to let the chauffeur know that they’re ready to go.

They pull away, and Navia stares out the window to watch Clorinde get smaller and smaller down the road. She can’t tell if Clorinde is watching her leave.

Café Lutece isn’t too far from her apartment. Faustier opens her door for her, and Navia spots most of her friends already sitting in the corner of the patio. Navia puts her sunglasses on to keep from being recognized and walks over to them with a hearty wave, her two bodyguards following behind without making it too obvious.

Furina, Lumine, and Lyney greet her with smiles. She sits down next to Furina, and Furina passes her a bowl of baked camembert and some breadsticks.

Charlotte arrives about five minutes later. She’s panting heavily, holding a camera in her hands, and she sits down breathlessly next to Navia with an excuse about work.

“We’re just glad that you could make it!” Navia says happily, passing Charlotte her menu.

Lumine laughs shortly, then offers Charlotte a handkerchief to wipe her sweaty brow with. “I’m glad and surprised to see that all of us could make it,” she admits. “It’s getting a little harder to find the time to have lunch like this.”

“I concur,” Furina says with a thoughtful nod. “But I’m not one to complain. Oh, I can’t wait to tell you all about the movie that I get to direct next week!”

“Lynette told me a little bit about it,” Lyney replies, mixing his iced latte with his straw. “The Kamisato siblings are starring in it, aren’t they?”

Furina holds her chin up proudly. “Indeed. What they say about Ayaka is all true, if you could believe it. She’s the sweetest girl I’ve ever met on the set of a movie thus far.”

“Hey!” Navia pipes up with offense, but she’s laughing under her breath. “I thought I was the sweetest girl you’ve met?”

“Opinions are ever-evolving,” Furina jests. Navia kicks her gently under the table with her foot.

Lumine laughs gently at their antics. “Just let us know when you get the date for the movie premiere. I’ll make sure to take the time off to come see it,” she promises.

“So will I,” Lyney adds with a smile and a nod. “Your movie premieres are always a delight to attend. I think your films are the lucky few that Lynette watches all the way through without napping.”

“So will I!” Charlotte echoes happily. She pokes at her camera on the table. “I’ll be there to take pictures for the Steambird. I know where your good side is, Furina, don't worry.”

Furina clasps her hands together in delight. “Ah, I wouldn’t be able to do this without you all,” she says happily, then pauses to think, then adds, “Well, I’m sure I still would have been able to— but the support means the world to me nonetheless.”

Navia lets out a laugh. “Clorinde and I will make sure to be there in the front row. She’s been talking about your movie nonstop ever since you posted about directing it,” she pledges.

There isn’t anything wrong with what she said. At least, she thinks so.

But her four other friends glance around at each other, an odd, cotton-ball-like atmosphere descending on their table. Their looks at each other are almost… shrewd, but they look back at her with those innocent smiles at her like they hadn’t done it at all.

Navia tilts her head in confusion. She opens her mouth to ask about it, but Furina beats her to it.

“So!” Furina starts, pushing her chair just a tiny bit further into the table. “Lumine, how are you and your brother’s tour doing in Natlan?”

“Our last show is next month,” Lumine offers happily, and she clears her throat. She looks as if she’s actively avoiding Navia’s eye, but she’s not sure why. “Aether already took a trip over to Natlan a couple years ago, so he’s been showing me around. Their hot springs are incredible. So is the food.”

“You’ll be going to Snezhnaya next, aren’t you?” Lyney asks.

Lumine nods and replies, “It’ll definitely get some used to the cold after being in the heat for so long.”

“I wish you both the best of luck,” Navia says with a giggle. “Clorinde hates when it gets even slightly warmer in our apartment. She’d probably love to be in Snezhnaya right now.”

She couldn’t help but comment on it. It was an easy comment to make, especially when it pertains to their easy conversation, but she also says it to dip her toes in the water.

And as expected, her friends look at each other with a small, inscrutable look, then smile back at her.

Navia narrows her eyes.

“Lynette and I are on a break from touring until next month,” Lyney offers to fill the brief silence. “We’re using our break to try and choreograph some new tricks for the next tour. We’ve been thinking about asking Freminet to come join us for a trick or two.”

“I’m sure he’d do great!” Charlotte praises.

“Talent runs in your family,” Furina says with a considerate nod. She picks up another breadstick and dips in the cheese as she continues, “I’ve missed attending one of your magic shows. Do you think you can set aside a ticket for me in the future?”

“If you’ll get me and Lynette in on your movie premiere,” Lyney bargains, and Furina bobs her head in agreement.

Furina wipes at the corner of her mouth with a napkin, looks as if she wants to say something else, but a waiter comes by to Navia and Charlotte's side, and she closes her mouth.

Charlotte orders a cup of coffee, and Navia orders crepes and a drink that she’s never seen on the menu before, just to try it. She can see Florian and Faustier out of the corner of her eye, sitting down on a nearby table and pretending to peruse a menu while periodically looking up at her.

Furina follows her gaze, and she presses her lips together.

The waiter walks away to get their orders, and Furina finally breaks.

“Call me nosy all you want,” she declares, turning her body to face Navia, “but I, for one, can’t keep ignoring it. What is going on with you and Clorinde?”

“Yeah,” Lyney says, narrowing her eyes at Navia with mild concern and confusion. “I didn’t want to be the one to ask, but… I won’t deny that it’s been in the back of my mind ever since you sat down.”

“And all of you call me meddlesome!” Charlotte exclaims with a huff.

Lumine laughs and says, “You looked like you were going to burst trying to keep it to yourself. You were going to end up asking some way or another.”

Charlotte deflates and looks away to scratch at a spot on her cheek in mild embarrassment.

Navia feigns a laugh when she feels all eyes on her. “I have no idea what you’re all talking about,” she says succinctly, drumming her fingers on her lap. She looks at each of her friends to try and convey the candor in her eyes.

Furina folds her arms over her chest and gives her a pointed look. “Are you really going to try that after every single person at this table helped defend you about your little underwear mishap?”

“Furina!” Navia cries out, mortified, her face blazing warm with the frankness in Furina’s face.

“But she’s right,” Lyney offers as gently as possible. He takes a sip of his latte, his fingers still clasped around his straw when he adds, “There’s no shame in what happened online a while ago, but since everyone at this table knows about behind the scenes, it’s hard not to question the motives for it.”

Navia sinks into her seat. Suddenly, she doesn’t feel all too jazzed to be here with her friends. Foolishly, she thought they’d forget about that little thing— or at least have the grace not to bring it up.

But her friends tend to fall on the more snoopy spectrum, as does she, and for that, she can’t blame them.

Especially when all of them are looking at her more so in concern than blatant teasing. Though, she wishes they were joking around with her than to be faced with this.

“You confided in us about it for a reason,” Lumine provides, leaning over the table to look at her gently. “We were all there from the beginning. So to see the both of you…” She waves her hand in the air with a vague motion.

“There’s nothing between us,” Navia says frankly.

Charlotte tilts her head to the side and adjusts her monocle. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Navia manages to squeeze out of her throat.

“Then who was the lingerie for?” Charlotte asks, leaning over the table to whisper more quietly. “Oh my gods, do you have a secret lover on the side? Are you using Clorinde to help you hide her?!”

“No!” Navia feels the tendrils of mortification lapping at the corners of her fingertips, causing her to grow warm.

“It was for Clorinde,” she admits quietly through gritted teeth.

No one at the table looks particularly surprised.

Lyney props his hand on the table and looks at her with a raised eyebrow. “Is there a particular reason why you were sending that to Clorinde?”

Furina deadpans, “If you say it’s because Clorinde is your friend and you wanted her to pick out your underwear, I will digress with the fact that you never send those kinds of things to me and I’m the closest thing you have to a confidant outside of your middle-aged assistants.”

“Or me,” Lumine says in benefit of Furina’s example, then winces. “Which I hope stays that way. No offense, I just meant that those kinds of pictures feel like something only—”

“—Clorinde should see,” Charlotte finishes.

“Agreed!” Lyney says with a few bobs of his head.

Navia sinks further into her seat and taps her chin incessantly with vague embarrassment. Where is the waiter when she needs him?

“We’re just—” Navia waves her hand in the air to find the words. “Having… fun?”

“Fun?” Furina parrots.

Lumine tilts her head in confusion. “Fun, as in… you’re both best friends again? Or—”

Charlotte gasps so loud that Navia almost lunges over next to her to cover her mouth. She’s grateful that there’s no one else around them except Faustier and Florian, who are both whistling and looking away from her.

“Are you both having…” Charlotte leans over to her, eyes wide with shock, “sex?!” she finishes in a hushed tone.

Lyney’s mouth opens wide in shock and he covers it with a hand hovering over his mouth, looking between Charlotte and Navia like he was bearing witness to a dramatic court case.

Lumine and Furina are looking at each other with eyes that just say, didn’t we guess this?

“We aren’t— why would you think we— there’s not—!” Navia stammers, looking between her friends and motioning her hands in front of her face.

Then she pauses, slumping her shoulders. She exhales hard, rubbing a knuckle on her forehead like a headache is forming there. She knows when she’s defeated.

“Yes,” Navia admits, letting it loose to the wind, “we’re…”

“Having sex?” Charlotte finishes for her.

Navia looks at her sharply in embarrassment, and Charlotte just puts her hands up in defeat.

She braces for a bombardment of questions— mostly from Furina’s side. She knows that Furina can get overzealous about these things, and that Furina finds joy in being able to dig through the dramatics of everyone’s lives. Spectacles are her thing.

But Furina is staring at her with a curious look on her face, her brow pulled together tight as if she’s mulling something over in her head. She looks as if she’s trying to find something on Navia’s face.

“I figured there was something up when you showed up with a hickey on your neck to a magic show,” Lyney muses, swirling his latte with his straw.

Navia flushes in embarrassment. “It was dark inside the tent!” she argues. “I didn’t think anyone would see.”

“Most people didn’t,” Lyney replies with a proud smile. “But I have a perceptive eye.”

Navia grumbles at his explanation, and then Charlotte offers, “The Steambird was working overtime pumping out paparazzi pictures of you and Clorinde in random places. I knew you two made up, but I thought something was a little fishy about the amount of times you were caught right next to her. And usually, uh—”

Charlotte puts her fingertips together and smushes them together in an imitation of kissing. Or making out. Or something else. Navia can’t tell.

“Well, I was completely in the dark,” Lumine says with a shrug. “But if you ask me, I figured something like this would have happened down the line after you told us about hiring her.”

Navia covers her face with her hands and groans. Charlotte pats her shoulder sympathetically, even if she lets out a small laugh.

“I’m a little worried for you both, if I’m being quite honest,” Furina says.

The odd edge to her tone makes everyone look over to Furina. Navia frowns, watching the way Furina looks down at her plate of bread and moves them around like she’s mulling something over.

“It’s just a mutual arrangement for a small benefit,” Navia tries to reassure her. “There’s nothing more to it.”

Furina glances over at her with a sharp look. It almost makes Navia flinch.

“Friends with benefits only work with friends who have no feelings, or friends who have never dated, or both,” Furina says matter-of-factly. “You, my dear, fit into none of those categories. And last time I saw her, Clorinde already—” And then she stops short, clamps her mouth shut, then shakes her head.

Furina blinks as she tries to casually say, “Nevermind that. What I’m trying to say is that neither of you clearly thought this through. I’m not going to demand that you stop, but I’m not going to pretend I want to encourage it either.”

Navia gnaws on her bottom lip. She knows that Furina is right, in some way.

It all happened so fast— it was like a break in the dam had opened and destroyed the entire barrier, and neither of them could stop the water from rushing in.

And who knows what they could do to fix it again.

The waiter comes by to place her and Charlotte’s food and drinks in front of them. Furina asks for a plate of conch madeleines, which Navia is certain meant that she knew it was going to be a long lunch.

“I have it under control,” Navia says, delicately positioning her utensils over her crepes. “Me and Clorinde— we’re just friends, who simply like to enjoy… prior benefits we used to have.”

She places a piece of crepe into her mouth, and it doesn’t taste as sweet as she hoped it to be.

“And your lingerie mishap?” Furina presses.

Navia waves away her concern. “It boosted numbers for my new single, believe it or not,” she says lightly. “It was a miracle in disguise, if you ask me!”

“Not everything ends in a miracle,” Furina warns.

Charlotte, Lyney, and Lumine nod their agreements with Furina. Clearly, everyone at the table had been holding onto the same sentiments.

Navia feels a little frustrated. She knows that they mean well, but why don’t they believe her?

“You guys, I mean it,” Navia emphasizes, leaning over the table to look at them all. She even puts a hand over Furina’s on the table. “I love you all for looking out for me— but trust me, there’s nothing to worry about. I know how to take care of myself.”

“That’s exactly why we’re worried,” Lumine says gently.

That stops Navia in her tracks. She looks at her friend across the table, tilting her head in confusion.

“You’re allowed to ask for what you want,” Charlotte supplies with a warm, but guilty smile. “And you should be able to lean on us for whatever happens.”

Furina turns her hand over on the table and squeezes it. Her smile is a little uneven. Navia doesn’t know why until Furina quietly says, “Of all people who deserve utmost happiness after everything you both have been through, it’s you and Clorinde. Especially… especially after your father and Clorinde—”

Navia snatches her hand away from Furina. She means nothing by it, and she’s grateful for Furina’s comforting, but the walls felt like they were closing in on her.

She clears her throat and grasps her utensils again, cutting up her crepes even if her stomach feels too twisted to really enjoy it. The rest of her friends are beginning to mind their own business back to their plates, but she can still feel Furina staring at her.

“It’ll all be fine in the end, I’m sure!” Navia says cheerfully, looking up from her plate. She clears something in the back of her throat. “I have you guys, remember?”

She’s not short of a support system. Her therapist had reassured her of that. She’s taken note of the company she keeps around her after Melus had that heart to heart with her.

She has Melus and Silver, the entire Spina di Rosula that had her best interests at heart and let her take the reins for her own career, Charlotte, Lyney and Lynette, Lumine, her stylists and makeup artists, Chiori and she could even guess that woman who hangs around Chiori’s atelier a lot (Kirara, if she remembers correctly), and so much more.

Though to that, Furina simply says, “But you don’t have Clorinde. At least, not in the way you want her to be.”

Furina has known them both too long and too well to give it to her gently.

Navia looks over to her, placing her fork gently back against her plate.

She has her mouth open to say something, but she doesn't know what to say. She doesn’t even know what she can say.

But then Furina blinks, smiles in that brilliantly charming way of hers, and asks the table, “On the night of my movie premiere, would you all like to come with an outfit theme? I think it would be divine!”

Navia swallows the heart that has risen up to her throat, and she smiles. She finds that it isn’t as wobbly as she thought it would be.

“That would be amazing!” Navia remarks in awe, straightening her spine. “What were you thinking?”

“Oh, you can never have too many frills,” Furina says with a wag of her finger. “I feel as if blue would be too much on theme. I’d like you all to stand out.”

“What was the tagline of the movie again?” Lyney asks mildly. “‘Conspiracy, revenge, and justice’?”

Furina nods with a proud, tight-lipped smile. “How do you feel about a coquelicot palette?”

“Oof, I don’t have too many of those in my closet,” Charlotte says with a wince. “It clashes too much with the color of my kamera, but I could pick something up from Chioriya Boutique if I call in a favor from Kirara.”

Furina hums with that. “Do you have anything in tyrian purple, Charlotte?”

“I sure do,” Charlotte replies happily.

“I should have some as well,” Lyney says with a nod. “You’re around my size and Lynette’s, aren’t you, Lumine? We could lend you something if you can’t find anything.”

“You’re both lifesavers,” Lumine says with a sigh. “Aether and I like earthy tones in our formal wear. But I think the purple would look nice for a premiere.”

“You think so?” Furina gushes.

Navia has a lot of purple in her closet. She knows because Clorinde always manages to have her laundry mixed up in hers, so they’ve long stopped trying to divide it all up.

She doesn’t say it out loud. She just smiles and tells them that she’s excited to see Furina’s movie, that she can’t wait to listen to more of Lumine’s new solo project, and that she hopes Lyney and Lynette have a good time trying to find new tricks for their new show.

They talk about new fashion trends in Fontaine, the cute dogs that they saw on the way to the café, the flip-flopping Fontanian weather.

When most of them are almost finished with their drinks, her friends start to beg her for tickets to her new tour, even if her tour hasn’t even been announced to the public yet. Navia just laughs and tells them that she’ll try.

They don’t talk about how Navia wishes she kept more purple in her life.

Before she leaves, Navia throws a quick text out to Clorinde to tell her that she’s on the way. Clorinde sends her a gif of a dancing cat, and it makes Navia laugh with deep amusem*nt. She showed her those gifs just last week.

With a takeout box of some crepes in her hand (just in case Clorinde might get hungry during the meeting— it’s only out of friendly concern, of course), Navia is chauffeured to the Spina di Rosula building. She takes a quick nap in the back of the car.

Faustier and Florian open her door for her. They nod at her, and they’re dismissed with a quick word of thanks.

Melus and Silver greet her on the front steps. She hugs them both, but they both notice how her eyes won’t stop sweeping back and forth.

“Clorinde is on her way,” Melus assures her.

“Traffic, I’m afraid,” Silver adds with a sympathetic shrug.

Navia smiles at them to disguise the disappointment that she feels in her chest.

Melus and Silver flank her on either side. They walk her to a private meeting room in the east wing. There’s not many people walking around in the hallway, which Navia knows is exactly what they’re looking for.

They situate themselves at the table, with Melus and Silver sitting across from her. Silver gets up briefly to get her a paper cup of water, and Navia thanks him with a warm smile.

Clorinde shows up five minutes later, the quick rise and fall of her chest suggesting that she had run across the building to get there. It makes Navia smile, but she tries her best to press her lips together to keep from smiling too wide.

But when Clorinde’s eyes land on her, and Clorinde waves in that cute, awkward way of hers, it proves to be a little bit of a difficult task.

Clorinde pulls out the chair next to her. She pushes her chair in, clears her throat, and gently presses her knee against Navia’s in greeting.

Navia presses her knee against hers again in response. She can see the corners of Clorinde’s lips twitching, even as she looks straight ahead at Melus and Silver.

Melus coughs, his chest sounding rattly with the dryness, but he takes a big gulp of water to disguise it. Then he says in that gravelly voice of his, “We’ll try our best to make this a quick one. There’s only one thing that we wanted to speak to the pair of you about.”

Has his voice gotten a little deeper? Navia isn’t sure.

“If it’s about the lingerie incident—” Navia starts with a wince.

Silver shakes his head. He folds his hands in front of him on the table, and Navia watches him tap a finger against his knuckle almost incessantly. “The situation has been taken completely care of. The Spina’s statement went well with stockholders, and your apology was a done deal with the public. If anything, it boosted sales.”

Navia gasps. “That’s what I said this morning to my friends!”

Silver grins, but then Melus shoots them both a look. Clorinde ducks her head to keep from laughing.

“While it boosted sales this time around, I would like to emphasize the notion that you don’t pull a stunt like that again,” Melus warns, but there’s a hint of affectionate teasing to the way he says it. He shakes his head, leaning against his chair to take off his glasses.

Melus wipes his glasses with a cloth he flourishes from his breast pocket as he says, “But I digress. We’ve already punished you enough with a two hour seminar on internet safety. Silver and I believe that you’ve thoroughly learned your lesson, and so there’s no longer any need for us to bring it up again.”

“Believe me, she’s learned,” Clorinde says nonchalantly.

Navia kicks her under the table, warmth blossoming across her cheeks and neck. There’s no innuendo to the way Clorinde said it, but her glance at Navia had said enough.

Silver coughs into his fist. “We’re actually here to talk about a certain… anniversary.”

Navia tilts her head in confusion. “Clorinde and I don’t celebrate our ‘anniversary’ for a while.”

Melus shakes his head. He has his glasses back on, and the grimace on his face makes him look much, much older than he used to be.

It feels cold inside the meeting room now. It almost makes her shiver.

“Do you remember what date it will be in two weeks?” Melus asks her, addressing her with a level look. He holds her gaze.

Navia swallows.

She looks down at her lap and closes her eyes.

She takes a deep breath in, then nods.

Of course she remembers.

It strikes her, right then, why she’d been so reckless with Clorinde.

She hears Clorinde suck in a sharp breath next to her, and that’s when she knows that the date had finally buried itself into Clorinde’s chest like a gunshot wound.

“In two weeks, Callas would have died exactly four years ago,” Silver says, his voice not unkind. He shifts, almost uncomfortably. He speaks much softer now, like he’s afraid the walls may fall like an avalanche at any louder volume. “The Spina has already taken the liberty of clearing Navia’s schedule for that entire week. No ifs, ands, or buts with anyone trying to bid for her time.”

Navia raises her head to smile at Silver, even if it feels a little worn on her face. Thank you, she mouths.

He only smiles back at her, his eyes a little sad.

Clorinde shifts in her seat next to her. Navia can’t discern the look on her face, and it pulses a familiar kind of ache against her chest.

“And I assume the Spina will heighten her security during that time?” Clorinde asks, an air of professionalism around her. Navia mourns, but she’s not sure of what.

Melus nods. “Of course. It’s what we’re here to talk about.”

Clorinde only stares at him, brow slightly pulled together in confusion.

Melus and Silver shoot each other with brief glances. Then Melus sits up straighter and clarifies, “Every year on the day of Callas’ unfortunate passing, people like to speculate the circ*mstances of his death. It wasn’t so bad on the first year, when Navia’s popularity was more so local— but her rise in popularity proves to have some small… caveats.”

“People like to make crazy accusations or spread nasty rumors,” Silver clarifies, opening his hands to illustrate his point. “Last year, they said that Callas had overdosed on drugs that he had been slipping to Navia. The year before that, they were saying that Callas died as an exchange for Navia’s popularity.”

Clorinde shakes her head, closing her eyes. “Archons above,” she says quietly, and her small slip of breath that passes from her lips is shaky.

Clorinde looks to Navia at her side. Navia pointedly avoids her eye.

“Now that Clorinde is involved in Demoiselle’s circle,” Melus begins to explain, the grimace on his face deepening, “it wouldn’t be surprising if these rumors start to use Clorinde as leverage. The Spina has done their best to scrub any potential blackmail that someone may use against you both, but today’s technology can be quite— how do you say…?”

“Elusive,” Silver finishes for him. Melus nods in agreement.

Navia bites down on the inside of her cheek. She can feel Clorinde contemplating something next to her.

“Well, is there anything we can do about it?” Navia asks, almost desperately.

Being reminded of Papa’s death had never been a pleasant experience, but being bombarded with rumors and hearsay on top of it had broken her down to tears every single year, all without fail.

Clorinde reaches over to grab one of Navia’s hands on her lap.

She squeezes Navia’s hand.

She doesn’t let go.

Navia inhales a trembling breath, but she doesn’t cry this time.

Melus clicks his tongue, then shakes his head as if it pains him to do so. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much we can do,” he says quietly, folding his arms over his chest. “Especially now with the Spina’s tight budget, we—”

Navia clears her throat.

Melus opens his mouth, glances at Clorinde’s curious look, then closes it.

“The Spina plans to release teasers for Navia’s new music video next week to try and get it to trend instead of any new rumors about Callas that’ll pop up like weeds,” Silver volunteers. He’s drumming his hands on the table. “Releasing tour dates or the music video on or around Callas’ anniversary would be too suspicious, but teasers are the next best thing.”

“Especially since your music video has Clorinde in it,” Melus says, and his smile is small but genuine. “There is no doubt that it would steal the hearts of many.”

Navia’s laughter is on the cusp of being feigned, but it ends up coming out genuine.

She feels Clorinde tighten her hold on her hand, even if she says nothing next to her.

“We just wanted to warn you both,” Silver tells them. “That’s all.”

“Thank you,” Navia says sincerely. She blinks back the sting of tears. “I… I hadn’t thought much about his death in so long that I would have tripped on all the backlash about him if you both hadn’t told me. So, thank you.”

Melus and Silver’s smiles are sad and knowing.

After a few more quick points about Navia’s schedule for next week, the four of them rise from their seats.

Navia hugs Melus first, then Silver. Melus kisses her on her hairline, and Silver messes up the top of her hair with his knuckles. They both hug her like they’re trying to press the little cracks in her heart back together.

Navia laughs wetly and wipes away her stray tears. She doesn't know where she would be without them.

Melus looks over her shoulder and beckons Clorinde over with a finger, all while Silver looks as if he’s trying not to grin. Clorinde relents with a small huff, and it makes Navia laugh even more.

Clorinde gives Melus and Silver quick side hugs.

She shakes their hands afterwards, quick and professional.

“I’ll keep her safe,” Clorinde promises them both. “Thank you for telling us.”

“There is no doubt in my mind that you will,” Melus tells her sincerely. “And we hope that you keep her just as happy.”

Navia sees the slight tension in Clorinde’s shoulders. Still, Clorinde answers with, “Of course. I’ll try my best.”

Melus and Silver walk them out to the door. There is no chauffeur to take them this time, just Clorinde and her car. There’s a part of Navia that wishes she called for a chauffeur instead.

Clorinde opens the door for Navia. Melus and Silver stand on the sidewalk.

Navia rolls down the window to wave them goodbye while Clorinde starts the car.

Silver calls out, “Be safe, you two! Be happy!”

“We will!” Navia calls back.

The car pulls away. Melus and Silver become black specks down the street.

Navia settles back into her passenger seat.

Clorinde is quick to take her hand over the center console, and she keeps it there while she drives them back home. Navia squeezes her hand as a sign of her gratitude.

Then Clorinde’s hand reaches over the console, crossing that unspoken bridge between them, and rubs her palm over the inside of Navia’s thigh, ebbing and flowing close to where Navia wants it to be.

Navia takes her wrist and shoves it against her spread legs. Clorinde smirks even as she looks down at the road, lightly touching Navia through her underwear, but then rescinds her hand.

Frustrated, Navia just sinks into the chair. It’s something that she’s used to by now. Clorinde wants her to wait.

But Navia doesn’t think she has the capacity to wait anymore.

When they get back to the apartment, Navia makes a beeline for her mini bar before Clorinde can even take off her coat.

Clorinde chuckles under her breath when Navia brandishes an expensive glass of wine to show to her. She goes to the kitchen to get them a pair of wine glasses while Navia goes to find a corkscrew.

Clorinde doesn’t do her sweep of bugs in the apartment like she often does, but Navia shrugs it off; they’ve both had long days, after all. It’s not the first time Clorinde had chosen to forfeit the habit once in a while.

The wine is popped, two glasses are poured, and they clink them together.

Navia makes them some steak in the kitchen. Clorinde wipes down the counters for her, feeds Balthazar and Consigliere, plays with a teasing toy for Baldy, and then makes her way over to Navia to wrap her arms around her waist.

She props her chin on Navia’s shoulder to watch her cook. Navia can feel her gentle breath blowing against her ear, and it makes her scrunch up her shoulders and giggle.

Clorinde kisses the underside of her jaw when she finishes basting the second steak.

If Navia closes her eyes, she can pretend that Clorinde is doing this because she wants to.

That Clorinde is kissing her neck and has her arms wrapped around Navia because she has her, and not because there’s that shrewd line of simple want.

That is why, isn’t it? Clorinde is doing all of this because she wants her on the bed, and nothing more?

Navia feels too much fear of losing the only thing that she can allow herself to have to make the decision of simply asking.

Navia swallows, turns around to kiss Clorinde on the mouth, and she feels Clorinde smile against her lips. It’s a small smile, but it’s there nonetheless. It’s almost a blatant confirmation that Clorinde wants something more.

Navia bites down on Clorinde’s lower lip, and Clorinde lets out a gentle moan. Navia feels her stomach stir at the noise. There’s no one else on Teyvat who can elicit this kind of response from her. No one at all.

“Dinner first,” Navia says with a giggle against her lips.

“If you wish,” Clorinde acquiesces, grabbing Navia’s hips and giving her a gentle squeeze.

Navia swoops back down to kiss her one more time. It’s a greedy thing to do, but Clorinde doesn’t seem to mind at all.

They set up the dining table, bring over their half-empty glasses of wine, and sit down next to each other while they eat. They prop up Clorinde’s phone to watch a random viral video that Furina had sent while they eat.

They laugh and chuckle at the antics of the person in the video, and Navia rests her head on Clorinde’s shoulder. Clorinde lets her. This is greedy, she knows.

But it’s all that she could ever know.

Navia takes, and Clorinde gives in. Clorinde takes, and Navia allows her.

A symbiotic relationship is better than nothing at all.

They eat their fill of Navia’s steaks, and Clorinde takes both of their dishes and washes it for them. Navia takes the time to play with Balthazar and say hello to Consigliere in his tank, promising to let him play on the grass tomorrow morning.

Clorinde dries her hands on a towel, and Navia gently moves her hair from the back of her neck to kiss the spot there.

She feels Clorinde shiver. Navia grins and gently nips the back of her neck with the tips of her canines.

The closest thing they can find is the kitchen counter, but Navia is too sore from yesterday’s leg workout (actual workout, and not the other kind they're so fond of) to sit on it comfortably. The sofa is the next best thing, so Clorinde takes her in her arms and carries her over.

Navia flips them over almost instantly. Clorinde sighs when Navia pushes her down to the throw pillows with a hand on Clorinde’s chest.

Navia straddles her, kissing the column of her neck up and down. She sucks on a vein, and she feels Clorinde jerk against her in pleasure.

Still sucking a spot on her neck, Navia’s hands make their way down her collarbone and over to the first button on her shirt. She starts to unbutton it.

Clorinde just hums, and Navia almost wants to mewl at hearing the deep rumble against the palms of her hands that she has pressed against Clorinde’s chest.

“You are insatiable, ma princesse,” Clorinde murmurs.

“When you look like this underneath me? Of course I am,” Navia replies with a snort.

It’s just an objective observation. Who wouldn’t want Clorinde? There were thousands of fan clubs out there who would be weeping to be in her position right now, straddling Clorinde like this and commanding her every move.

Navia curls her fingers around Clorinde’s throat, watching as Clorinde arches forward and tilts her chin to allow Navia more access. It makes the warmth in her navel feel boiling hot.

Navia kisses her hungrily, unconcerned with the way her saliva drips from the corner of her mouth. She feels the sharp tip of Clorinde’s tongue tease her bottom lip with a quick swipe, and Navia presses against the sides of her neck in mild warning.

Clorinde just laughs, and Navia kisses her deep enough to swipe her flat tongue against her. The satisfied rumble of Clorinde’s chest makes Navia moan and start to rut in her lap.

She can already feel her puss* clenching. She wants Clorinde inside of her. The thought makes her sigh contentedly, knowing that Clorinde would do anything to satisfy her, as long as she asks.

She kisses Clorinde again, hands coming to fondle with Clorinde’s breasts now that they’ve unbuttoned her entire shirt. She’s still grinding on her lap, and everything feels scorching and fervent around her.

“Navia,” Clorinde gasps against her lips.

Navia moans at the sound of her name, grinding faster on Clorinde’s lap as a reward.

“Navia,” Clorinde grits out again, hands coming to squeeze Navia’s hips.

Navia dips her head down to the underside of Clorinde’s jaw, peppering sloppy, wet kisses there. She wants to leave more hickies. To see them and pretend that Clorinde has been marked as hers.

“Navia, wait!”

At the urgency of her voice, Navia stops everything.

She looks up, panting breathlessly, and stares into Clorinde’s eyes.

Clorinde is frowning at her. There’s deep concern in the furrow of her brow. Her eyes are glancing back and forth, as if she’s trying to dissect the breathless look Navia has on her face. She still has her hands on Navia’s hips, and her palms feel warm.

“What’s wrong?” Navia breathes out. She frowns back at Clorinde. “Are you okay? Do you want me to get off you? It— it’s okay if you’re not—”

Clorinde shakes her head frantically. “I want to,” Clorinde whispers, her eyes glancing down to Navia’s swollen, wet lips.

“I really, really want to,” she emphasizes quietly, narrowing her eyes at Navia with dark want.

Navia feels a pull towards her again. She tries to close the distance between them, to give Clorinde the kiss that she so clearly desires, but Clorinde shakes her head again and presses their foreheads together.

They’re both breathless.

Clorinde clears her throat. “But I have to make sure,” she croaks, her voice still guttural.

Navia frowns at her, cupping a hand on one side of her face. She wants to kiss her again. “Make sure about what?” she asks, her mind still cloudy.

She needs to kiss her.

It feels like life or death.

“Are you doing this to distract yourself?” Clorinde asks her softly.

“What?” Navia asks, trying desperately to blink away the cloudiness. She can’t.

“With what Melus and Silver told you,” Clorinde clarifies gently. She has the tips of her fingers underneath Navia’s shirt, making soothing circles. Navia wants to kiss her so bad that everything aches.

Clorinde frowns at her, deeply. “Answer me.” She doesn’t sound demanding.

Still, Navia answers truthfully. “If I am, will it matter?” she asks.

She smooths a hand down Clorinde’s body, down to her abdomen and around her side to give her a one-armed embrace. It makes Clorinde shiver. “Does it really matter, Clorinde?”

She doesn’t know what she wants Clorinde to answer with.

A yes would have been as devastating as no.

Clorinde shifts her in her seat. Navia still feels like kissing her until her lips ache. “I don’t mind distracting you,” she says simply, and Navia feels the tension fall from her shoulders. “I don’t mind giving you some temporary relief. But I need you to tell me that it’s what you really want.”

Is this a test?

Is Clorinde looking for a paradoxical answer like Navia wants from her?

“We can do anything else you’d like, if this isn't what you need,” Clorinde offers gently. She puts a curled finger underneath Navia’s chin to look at her. “I can distract you. Just tell me what you need.”

What she needs is to tell Clorinde that her heart aches for her, and that she needs more of Clorinde, that she needs Clorinde to give her everything rather than this shallow part of them that they seem to play around with.

But what she wants is Clorinde to distract her— from all of it.

And so Navia puts her hand back on Clorinde’s throat and kisses her harshly, enough to draw blood on her top lip, and Clorinde kisses her back with just as much vigor. Her heart feels like it’s starting to burn up.

“I want you to make me forget,” Navia whispers against her lips.

If Clorinde knows that she’s avoiding what she needs, or about the implications of what she’d like to omit from her mind for the night, she says nothing about it.

She just nods, kisses Navia again, and tugs her away from the sofa to take them to the bedroom.

Navia lays down on the springy bed as Clorinde crawls on top of her, spreading kisses up and down her body.

She moans when Clorinde wraps her suctioned mouth around a nipple, sucking gently. Clorinde palms the other hand on Navia’s other breast, massaging it before pinching it between her thumb and forefinger. She rolls Navia’s nipple in her fingertips, and Navia arches to lose herself to the feeling of it.

They’re too tired to use the strap-on tonight. Navia doesn’t mind— the feeling of Clorinde’s fingers inside of her is more than enough for a distraction.

Clorinde kneels next to her, kissing her sloppily while Navia spreads her legs wide open for her.

“f*ck,” Navia gasps, her chest stuttering. “More, Clorinde. Please— oh, f*ck!”

She lets out a high-pitched whine when Clorinde shifts to a more comfortable position to f*ck her with her fingers at a brutal pace. Her curled, long fingers jerk in and out of Navia, and the noises in the bedroom are filled with Navia’s loud moans and the sound of her squelching puss*.

There’s a satisfied smile on Clorinde’s face when Navia takes her wrist to still her, overwhelmed by the feeling. She doesn’t want to cum yet. She doesn’t want the distraction to end.

“Suck on my cl*t, baby,” Navia whispers.

Clorinde nods enthusiastically, bending down to kiss Navia’s breathless lips before shimmying to be face to face with her opened legs.

Clorinde runs a hand down Navia’s soft stomach, leaving kisses on her breasts and stomach before placing a gentle kiss right on her cl*t. It makes Navia’s legs jerk upwards.

“You’re a tease,” Navia mumbles, and Clorinde chuckles.

Clorinde doesn’t tease her for very long after that. She places two more deliberate kisses on the insides of Navia’s thighs, then gently digs her nails into the outsides of her thighs and swipes her folds with her long, pointed tongue. Navia wails pathetically at the feeling.

Clorinde spits on her cl*t and rubs it in with her fingers to mix with her wetness. Navia watches her with gritted teeth, blinking away aching tears. She can feel herself pulsing.

“Clorinde,” she warns, but it comes off more like a pitiful whine.

Chuckling, Clorinde kisses her swollen cl*t. She glances up at Navia, smiles at her, then—

“Oh, god!” she cries. Navia jerks her hips upwards, and Clorinde puts her hands on top of Navia’s lower stomach to keep her from bucking against her nose.

Navia moans, loud and long, when Clorinde starts to slowly flick her tongue up and down on her puss*. Every flick upwards makes her cl*t throb with the feeling.

Navia whimpers when Clorinde starts to swirl her tongue in a circle around her cl*t. It already feels too much, but it feels too good.

She can feel her cl*t throbbing when Clorinde starts to run her tongue back up and down. She’s playing with her, but Navia can’t condemn her for it. It feels too good, and she knows that Clorinde is doing it so that she can last longer. They both know it’s exactly what she wants. Prolonged, pleasured torture is better than cumming all at once, at least for tonight.

Clorinde shifts, and she places one finger inside of her as she tongues Navia’s folds. Navia arches into the feeling and whines out her name. She feels Clorinde hum against her puss* in satisfaction.

Clorinde adds a second digit, and Navia starts to actively rut against her face.

“Clorinde,” she whines softly, exhaling harshly. She’s gripping the bed sheets until her hands begin to shake.

Clorinde works her like that for a little while. She’s not really sure how much time has passed— all she knows is that every time her cl*t throbs particularly hard on Clorinde’s tongue, she pulls her mouth away to finger her slowly. After each slow, agonizing minute, Clorinde would press her mouth back against her puss*.

It’s an ebb and flow kind of movement, water that laps the shore. Clorinde knows her body and soul. She knows how to make her feel good, and she knows how to keep Navia distracted and from cumming.

It’s torture. And it’s a comfort.

“Clorinde, fuuuu— ck!” she gasps hoarsely, jerking her hips, and Clorinde takes it in stride.

Clorinde had put the length of her tongue inside of her puss* to flick up and down inside of her. Navia can already feel that familiar ache in her stomach beginning to form, like white-hot pleasure and a twisted knot.

Clorinde knows it, of course.

She lets go and looks up at Navia, breathing hard. Navia chokes out a small sob, blinking rapidly.

“Why— why did you stop?” she asks, her words mournful and wet.

Clorinde squeezes her thigh. “I want you to f*ck yourself on my face.”

Navia’s chest stilts in excitement. “Are you sure?”

Clorinde nods, her eyes slightly wide. Her pupils are blown, and her chin is slick with her saliva and Navia’s thick creamy slick. Navia wants to kiss her, and so she does.

When they separate, Clorinde is already moving to lay down on the bed. She takes Navia with her in their game of ebb and flow.

Navia swings one leg over her face, and she looks down at Clorinde. She hasn’t sat down yet, and she chews on her lower lip.

“Are you sure?” she asks again.

Clorinde squeezes her thighs, her nails digging in. Navia likes the feeling. She can already feel herself dripping down onto Clorinde’s mouth without having to touch her yet.

“Just sit on my f*cking face already, Navia,” Clorinde says, moaning slightly. Navia looks over to see her fingering herself.

The sight makes Navia sigh in pleasure, and she sits down on Clorinde’s flat tongue.

It feels too good not to moan out loud. She moans and grabs one of her own breasts to massage it, playing with a nipple while she rides on Clorinde’s tongue.

Clorinde’s tongue is firm and wet, and every swipe of her hips makes her stomach grow warm.

“Mm, oh f*ck, Clorinde,” she whimpers, twitching her hips faster on Clorinde’s tongue. Her movements are tight up and down movements, causing every hard stroke to grind against her cl*t. If she goes any faster, she might just—

“Oh!” she gasps, her hips stilling for just a moment in complete pleasure when she feels Clorinde’s tongue enter inside of her. She feels Clorinde jerk up and down, pressing against her walls, until Clorinde stills herself with her tongue still inside. Navia knows what it means.

Navia starts to grind on her face in broader strokes, the rocking of her hips causing her bed to shake and her headboard to slam slightly against the wall. Neither of them pay mind to it.

“Oh, Clorinde! Clorinde, oh, f*ck, you’re so—!” Navia whines again when Clorinde’s fingernails dig into her thighs. Her chest heaves with the effort, but she can’t get herself to stop. Everything feels too good.

Navia’s hand comes up to massage one of her breasts.

Clorinde’s palm sneaks up to move her hand away, replacing where she had been massaging herself to squeeze at her breast and run her thumb over her stiff nipple.

“Oh,” she whimpers, long and low.

She feels the warmth in her stomach begin to expand. It presses against every part of her.

“Clorinde! f*ck, I’m close!” she gasps sharply. She won’t stop rocking her hips, and Clorinde is starting to move her tongue inside of her again. “Clorinde, I’m going to— oh, god, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna—”

Clorinde’s nails just dig deeper into her skin, keeping her in place.

Navia moans long and wantonly. She throws her head back, feeling sweat drip down the side of her neck. “Clorinde!” she cries out, loud and desperate. She’s almost there.

She feels Clorinde inhale deep, dip her chin forward, and—

“Oh, f*ck!” she screams, and she feels Clorinde start to suck on her cl*t in the right, perfect rhythm.

Navia keeps gyrating her hips up and down on Clorinde’s face. She knows that she must be getting her cum all over her lips and tongue, but she doesn’t really care.

All she feels is pleasure and that uncurling ocean that waves over her, and oh hell, she’s cumming again.

Navia cries out her name again, grinding faster and faster in tight strokes on Clorinde’s face. Her second org*sm feels more like a crash than waves, but it feels good nonetheless.

Her head is foggy with pleasure. She can’t think of anything else. She chases after the feeling, running and running.

“Clorinde!” she moans out, her hips aching but still moving against Clorinde’s tongue. “Clorinde, oh— oh, Archons, sh*t!”

Clorinde won’t stop. Her mind is still cloudy. She can’t think.

“Clorinde!” Navia gasps. “f*ck! f*ck, I love you— I love you so f*cking much, I—”

She c*ms for a third time, and this time it feels like the painful crash of a ship against the rocks.

She falls to the side to keep from collapsing on Clorinde’s face. She’s breathing hard. Navia feels like she’s drowning, and she can’t come back up for air.

Navia stares at the ceiling.

All she hears in the room is their breathing, unsynced and ragged. When she sucks in a deep breath, Clorinde is exhaling. Her chest is aching. It feels painful.

She blinks, then turns to look at her side.

Clorinde is already looking at her.

She can’t read the expression on Clorinde’s face.

She feels like crying.

Navia forces herself up on her elbows. She rolls out of bed and puts on some slippers that she keeps at her bedside, then marches over to her closet without looking back.

“Navia—” Clorinde starts.

Navia cuts off whatever she wants to say with the slam of her closet door as it opens. She rummages through her hangers, uncaring for the way she handles her clothes or the way her blood rushes to her ears.

“Navia, look at me, please—” Clorinde starts again pleadingly.

Navia finds her silk robe and hurriedly puts it on. Every part of her body aches. Still, she manages to get it on, and she pushes two of its parts together so that she can tie her waist tightly.

“Navia, please!” Clorinde begs, loud and sharp.

It’s the first time Navia had ever heard her shout at her like that. Even with just her name.

Navia closes her eyes.

She counts to three, then pivots on her heel to look at Clorinde. She tries to keep her face as neutral as possible, only raising her eyebrows and putting her hands on her hips.

Clorinde sits up on the bed. She’s still breathing hard. Her hair is wild and her mouth is swollen and red, Navia’s cum down her chin, and Navia wishes she could look away. This sight of Clorinde is not hers to have.

Clorinde stares at her for a moment, then visibly swallows.

And then she rises from the bed on the other side where Navia had moved from, and she looks for a shirt in Navia’s drawer. Navia merely watches her.

Clorinde finally gets her shirt on and comes up to her. Even then, she leaves about an arm’s length between them.

Funny. She hadn’t done that in a while.

The silence is tense between them. Navia can hear every breath Clorinde takes, and she can feel just how badly her heart aches in her chest. Navia has to cross her arms to keep the pain in as best as she can.

“It just— it comes out sometimes,” Clorinde says. She takes Navia’s wrist and squeezes as if to reassure her. Navia is limp.

“I understand,” Clorinde whispers soothingly, rubbing her thumb against the bone of Navia’s wrist. “I promise I do. After everything that we’ve gone through together, it’s hard to override those muscle memories. I know you didn’t want— that you didn’t mean it.”

There is no inconceivable way you understand just how wrong you are, Navia wishes she could spit out, blinking back tears, and how much I actually, really, desperately love you.

She doesn’t.

She nods mutely, and Clorinde takes it as agreement.

Clorinde exhales, as if in relief, and Navia feels like being stabbed in the chest would be a greater mercy than this.

She runs her fingers through her messy hair, and Navia hates how much she still needs to kiss her.

“I can run you a warm bath if you’d like,” Clorinde offers, but Navia is already shaking her head before the end of her sentence.

“Go shower first,” Navia says, jostling her hip with her own. “You stink,” she teases.

Clorinde snorts, wrapping her arm around her waist to pull her in. “It’s your mess,” she whispers, then dips down to kiss her chastely on the lips.

Navia feigns a smile against her lips. Clorinde tastes like sex. Just sex.

“I can order takeout while you’re in the shower,” Navia says thoughtfully, and Clorinde nods with a small smile. “A quick pick-me-up snack.”

Clorinde lets go of her waist and replies, “Order anything you’d like. I’ll just scavenge whatever you’re having.”

“Even fish?” Navia asks, and Clorinde shoots her a look of warning. It makes Navia laugh, and she’s glad that it isn’t too hard to make believable.

“We can play a short tabletop game I found to cool down for the night,” Clorinde suggests, walking over to the door frame of Navia’s bathroom. “I found it the other day. You might like it— you get a dog companion.”

Navia clasps her hands together in excitement, and it makes Clorinde laugh.

Clorinde closes the bathroom door, and the sound of the faucet turning on follows just a mere moment later.

Navia feels her smile drop. She blinks back tears. She’s grateful for all the acting lessons.

She crawls back into her bed and grasps the blankets around her. She can afford to stay like this for just a few moments.

But she manages to find enough strength to crawl to the corner of the bed, unclasp the necklace that Clorinde gave to her, and put it in the drawer next to the bedside. She snaps it shut like a final verdict. The shower is still running in the other room.

Navia holds her face in her hands and curls up in her bed, lost and alone.