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drink my tears, i'm at your mercy. i love you most, but i'm not worthy
It’s been six days since Nan brought Misty back to her. Six days, of Misty staying in Cordelia’s bed, sleeping next to her every night, giving her sleepy smiles before they get up to face the day.
Cordelia feels like something is happening, has been there between them all along, even in Misty’s absence. But that’s the problem with being an almost-something. You’re not sure where you stand. Cordelia’s not even sure how Misty feels about her.
(She is, she knows that Misty doesn’t have feelings for her, hasn’t quite accepted this fact yet, though).
With the morning light streaming through her blinds, coating Misty’s skin in an ethereal glow, Cordelia finds it hard to breathe. Just looking at her, seemingly at peace in her bed… looking like maybe, just maybe she belongs there —
“Mornin’,” Misty mumbles, rumpled and cute.
So Cordelia plasters on a smile, close-lipped, and returns it with a, “good morning, Sleepy Head.”
Misty gives her a smile back, hers sleepy and warm. “‘m gonna use the washroom before breakfast. Would ya make me a cup of tea?”
“Of course,” Cordelia says, waiting until Misty heaves herself out of bed to take a deep breath and grab her robe.
She pads downstairs, hearing chatter in the kitchen.
“I told you, I wanted strawberries,” Madison snaps.
“You said blueberries,” Mallory bickers back.
Cordelia rolls her eyes. When she walks into the kitchen, there’s a chorus of, “good morning, Miss Cordelia,” from everyone, except Madison, who just eyes her over her glass of coffee. She says her good mornings back and goes about making Misty’s tea.
When she turns, they’re all looking at her. She sighs, long and drawn out and wholly amused. “She did say strawberries,” Cordelia relents and Madison smiles triumphantly.
The girls start to argue again and Cordelia turns, to make her own tea. She doesn’t hear footsteps coming up behind her, but she does feel a hand on her waist, breath on the back of her neck, as Misty whispers, “I prefer blueberries.”
Cordelia jumps high enough that she hits her knee.
“Oh, shit, sorry, Miss ‘Delia. Didn’t mean to startle ya.”
She hears the girls laughing behind her.
“Geeze, Cordy, who knew it took just one touch from the swamp rat to make you a total fucking spaz.” And then, “ow!”
Cordelia laughs, a gentle sound despite the harsh hammering of her heart, ignoring Madison’s comment and hoping everyone else does too. “I just didn’t hear her come up behind me. You know how it is in the mornings,” she says, weakly, and Madison just snorts.
Misty looks apologetic. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she says sheepishly, looking at Cordelia through her eyelashes in a way that makes Cordelia’s breath stall for a moment. Misty breaks eye contact, glares at Madison over her shoulder.
Madison gave Misty a shrug and ignored the incredulous look Zoe was giving her.
Misty pats Cordelia on the arm, her touch so hot it burns Cordelia from the inside out, and walks to the table. She knocks Madison’s shoulder with her own and the two start their morning routine of bickering. It makes Cordelia smile into her cup as she watches all of them together.
The thing that Cordelia has come to accept about herself is that she gives love as freely as she wants it—she never expects anyone she loves to love her in return, even when she so greedily craves it. It’s perhaps her biggest flaw, but it’s one that she’s learned to live with.
Fiona… Fiona used to hate that about her. She wanted to take Cordelia’s gentleness and grind it up under her expensive heels, make her cold. It truly killed her that it never worked. Maybe if she realized that her own lack of love and affection toward Cordelia was the reason why Cordelia felt the need to share her heart and treat everyone with kindness.
And Cordelia knows… she knows that it’s a recipe for disaster and hurt, a constant wheel turning to get her fucked over by people she loves most. This is why she doesn’t expect anything in return, because it’s so much easier to give without the disappointment of being rejected.
Why would she ever expect Misty to reciprocate any type of affection or feelings for her, when her own mother didn’t even? Her own husband? No, she’s perfectly happy living day-to-day with this woman, as friends, as confidants, as long as she doesn’t know how Cordelia feels.
That’s the trick, isn’t it? Love people, but don’t tell them you love them. It’s almost like it takes the power away from them, gives Cordelia the ability to choose when to hurt instead of it being something that creeps up on her.
“I was thinkin’ of goin’ to visit my swamp today and I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come,” Misty says one day, when Cordelia has just gotten dressed for the day and put her lipstick on.
Cordelia feels shock for a moment—it’s such a personal request and she feels like an intruder. She opens her mouth to answer but she guesses she takes too long since Misty adds on, “if ya want, I mean, it would just be somethin’ to do and I’d feel better if ya were there.”
Her heart swells in her chest at Misty’s words. And unable to deny this hurricane of a woman anything, she replies, “of course we can. It will be a fun little outing.” She’s lying through her teeth. She isn’t excited to go to the swamp, to walk through mud and smell… whatever it is that swamps smell like. But Misty asked her, and who is she to deny her anything?
Misty smiles so brightly back at her in response that Cordelia thinks that maybe it will be worth the pair of shoes she’s most likely to ruin.
“I wouldn’t wear that, though,” Misty says, eyeing her, as if she’s able to read her mind. She goes to Cordelia’s closet, rifles through the blouses and dresses until, “aha!”
It feels painfully domestic.
She brings one of the simpler dresses in Cordelia’s closet over, black with red and pink flowers on it, and just below the knee.
Misty winks and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door to give Cordelia her privacy. To let Cordelia catch her breath.
She changes out of her blouse-dress pant outfit she’d carefully picked out this morning and shuffles into the dress, inspecting herself in the mirror.
“Ya look great,” Misty says, continuing her habit of sneaking up on Cordelia when she leases expects it. She pops into the reflection behind Cordelia, with some dark eye makeup on this time.
“You too,” Cordelia manages, all of her willpower keeping her from leaning back into Misty and burrowing her face in her hair, smelling her shampoo.
“Floral print was made for you, Miss Cordelia,” she says after a moment, plucking at the strap on her shoulder and straightening it out. They meet eyes in the mirror and the moment is so electrically charged that Cordelia is the one who looks away first (coward.)
Misty backs up, gives Cordelia space.
“I’ll meet ya downstairs. Maybe don’t wear heels,” she suggests before backing out of the room.
“Noted,” Cordelia mutters, sifting through her closet to try to find any pair of shoes that she owns that doesn’t have a heel. She finds a pair of sandals, albeit expensive ones. But hey, she never wears them anyway.
She bounds down the stairs and bumps into Madison and Queenie.
“Where are you off to, Miss Cordelia?”
“Cordy and her little swamp rat have a date,” Madison says with a snicker.
Cordelia gives Madison her best glare and feels something like triumph when Madison looks away.
“I am going with Misty to her swamp, yes,” Cordelia tells them. “There are no lessons today and the Greenhouse has been taken care of so I don’t see why not.”
Queenie smiles, like she knows a secret. And who knows, maybe she does, but Cordelia doesn’t want to sit by and feel embarrassment from her subordinate. When Misty yells, “Miss Delia, ya ready?” she feels relief wash over her.
“Have fun, Cordy. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
If Cordelia wasn’t the Supreme and her superior, she could really slap that girl sometimes. She hears Queenie smack her in the arm, and Madison’s responding, “bitch!” Cordelia smiles and meets Misty at the door.
Just as Cordelia expected the swamp was… well, a swamp. It smells, there are bugs, there are things in the grass, she has mud on her shoes.
But when she takes one glance at Misty in the sunlight surrounded by green and black and nature, she lets all of that slip away. Getting to see Misty in her natural habitat is a gift.
“Thanks for comin’ with me, Miss Delia,” Misty says after a moment, head tossed back as she bathes in the sunlight.
Cordelia has to force herself to look away before her mind starts to imagine things — like Cordelia’s hand, gripped gently around Misty’s picturesque throat, before she can imagine how it would sound to have Misty begging her to squeeze, to feel her pulse under her fingers jumping in anticipation —
She realizes she hasn’t responded so she gives a quick smile Misty’s way and looks around. “It’s really no problem, Misty. This was your home for so long. There’s no reason you can’t have both.”
Misty’s answering grin is radiant. “Thank you,” she says again.
Cordelia feels her stomach swoop. “It’s really no problem.”
Misty grabs her hand, holds it. Keeps holding it. Actually, they walk around the swamp literally holding hands, and Cordelia is sure she’s not breathing but they’re talking, like she’s on autopilot and out of her body, watching from above.
“Let’s get a bite to eat,” Misty suggests when they’re finally on concrete.
Cordelia is just happy not to be in the swamp anymore so she hastily agrees. Misty hasn’t let go of her hand yet.
They walk the short distance to a vegan place, one Misty says she remembers enjoying before… well, before. And Cordelia has never been one for a meatless diet but maybe she can convert.
Misty is talking away, asking Cordelia questions about what was happening in the world during her time in Hell — a lot of times their conversations would circle back to Cordelia catching Misty up on things and explaining the differences in the world.
“I can’t believe how many witches are at the school now,” she says in between bites of food. “I also can’t believe that you made Hollywood part of your council.”
Cordelia chuckles. One thing that will never change is the ongoing feud between Misty and Madison and honestly, Cordelia doesn’t think it’s so much hostility and hatred anymore so much as fun bantering.
“She’s a very gifted witch and she’s been through a lot, too,” Cordelia says.
Misty relents. “I know,” she says sheepishly, licking some guacamole from her bottom lip. Cordelia looks away. “I like Mallory and Coco, though.”
“Me too,” Cordelia agrees. “Mallory is… I think she’s next. She’s already started to flower.”
Misty looks shocked for a moment. “But doesn’t that mean… you…”
Cordelia shifts, unsure how to explain it without going into too much detail about what Mallory told her. “There was… something that happened. It’s very hard to explain, I don’t even necessarily understand it all.”
Misty’s curiosity is piqued and she jokes, “well I ain’t dumb, Miss Delia.”
“Of course not,” Cordelia says hastily. So she goes about explaining it the best she knows how — about how in another timeline, a deleted one, Mallory was her successor and in an effort to beat the Antichrist, Cordelia killed herself to give Mallory her power. She’s sure there’s some scientific reason of explanation but all she can conclude is, “I guess we can share the Supremacy. The stronger she gets won’t weaken me.”
Misty nods, contemplating. “You dealt with so much,” she says, softly.
Cordelia doesn’t even tell her that Mallory told her that in this other timeline, she’d had Misty back. Cordelia is happy, in a way, that she doesn’t remember. That neither of them do.
“We soldier on,” Cordelia says instead, trying to knock Misty’s praise off the ledge. “You… you’ve come so far, Misty. I really did miss you while you were gone.”
Misty gives her a smile with wide eyes. “Now I don’t know how credible this is,” she begins and uh oh, that’s never a good start. “But I was told you never stopped lookin’ for me.”
“I didn’t,” she says. “I exhausted everything I could to try to bring you back.” She looks down at her empty plate. “I couldn’t do it.”
Misty reaches across the table, takes Cordelia’s hand in two of hers. “Just the fact you looked for me is enough.”
Cordelia’s breath stutters but she keeps her composure, says something nice in return and stands, breaking the moment and taking her hand back.
“We should get going.”
If Misty looks a little disappointed for a moment, Cordelia is sure it’s just because they have to go back to where Madison is. She’s sure she imagined it.
It’s a pretty dead night. Mallory, Madison, Zoe and Queenie decided to take Misty out on the town. Cordelia decides that she’s not so much into that anymore, would rather stay home and read alone. Or, well, she’s trying to but someone is crying.
She walks through the house, book in hand, until she’s on the lower level, where Coco is sitting on the couch, hunched over and crying into a blanket.
“Coco, sweetheart,” Cordelia says gently, moving to go sit down beside her. She puts the book on the arm of the couch. “What’s going on?” She rubs soft, soothing circles on Coco’s back.
Coco sniffles. “You know the guy that I was talking to, the vet?” Cordelia affirms that, yes, she remembers Coco telling her about him (and going on and on and on about him.) “Well, he dumped me. He said him and his ex wife were going to give it another go.” She scoffs. “You got divorced for a reason, pal.”
Cordelia tsks, pulling Coco toward her. “I’m sorry, honey,” she says gently.
Coco is a gentle weight attached to her side, a comforting warmth. She eventually settles and winds up with her head in Cordelia’s lap, one arm rested against the back of the couch and the other wrapped around her legs. Cordelia imagines it’s not very comfortable but Coco doesn’t seem too worried.
Cordelia has one hand in Coco’s hair, running her fingers over her scalp gently, and another hand is holding her book open, turning the pages carefully.
She doesn’t notice that the girls have come home until she hears someone ask, “what happened?”
It’s Mallory.
Cordelia can hear Coco’s evened out breath, meaning that she’s likely asleep and she just doesn’t have the heart to wake her.
“Break up,” Cordelia whispers back, glancing down at the blonde head in her lap. “She was very upset but she’s calmed down. I’ll send her up once she comes to.”
Mallory smiles sadly and walks up toward the upstairs. Zoe and Madison don’t make an appearance so Cordelia is willing to bet that Madison is drunk and Zoe and Queenie are the ones who are getting her upstairs.
Which leaves — “hi, Miss Delia.”
Cordelia sees Misty from across the room, wearing something obviously of Madison’s. She looks beautiful but almost… inauthentic. She looks tipsy, too.
“Hi, Misty. Fun night?”
Misty shrugs one shoulder. “Would’ve been more fun of you were there,” she says, unabashedly.
Cordelia swallows down every single emotion and gives a tight smile in response. Misty is tipsy and just being friendly.
“You girls deserved a break,” she says in reply.
Misty looks like she’s about to say something else but Coco starts to stir.
“Goodnight, Miss Cordelia,” Misty says after a moment, and heads upstairs.
Cordelia watches her go, eyes trained on the spot she was standing until Coco says, “how long was I asleep?”
“Not very,” Cordelia responds. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs, sweetheart.”
Coco mumbles something in response and Cordelia helps her up, her book long abandoned. Mallory is all too welcoming when Cordelia knocks and offers her Coco, taking her into her arms and asking her to tell her what happened. Cordelia smiles to herself and closes the door.
In the morning Cordelia is a little grumpy. She feels like something bad is going to happen. Doesn’t know what, when, or how, but feels like it’s bound to happen.
Misty is already up and out of bed by time Cordelia finally gets her robe on and goes down to the kitchen. When Coco sees her she smiles wide and goes straight in for a hug.
Madison is nursing a hangover and arguing with Queenie over something, God knows what at this point. Cordelia tunes it out, looks at Coco. “You doing okay this morning, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Miss Cordelia,” Coco says, almost shyly. “Thank you for last night.”
Cordelia gives her a soft smile, cupping her cheek and letting her thumb trace her cheekbone. “It’s what I do,” she says, softly, and kisses Coco on the forehead.
“Misty wanted to stock up on groceries and supplies today,” Zoe says. Cordelia peeks around Coco to look at her. “Since it’s Sunday.”
“I can give you girls a list of what to get,” Cordelia tells her.
“Or you can just go. Since you’re the boss and all.”
Cordelia chuckles. “If it’s no burden to Misty, I’ll be happy to go with her.”
“Seems like ya have your hands full here,” Misty says, voice… hard. Cold. Even Coco looks startled.
Cordelia let’s go of Coco to get to the counter so she can make her tea, carefully keeping her eyes off of Misty.
“It’s the weekend. I don’t have any official business to take care of,” Cordelia says, cordial. Confused, but she tries to pretend like she isn’t. (Hurt, but she tries to pretend like she isn’t.)
Misty shrugs. “I don’t care who comes with me.” She shuffles out of the kitchen. “I don’t want to go too late so if you’re comin’ I want to go soon.” And then she walks away.
“What crawled up her ass and died?” Madison snarks. For once, Cordelia agrees, and she looks over at the younger blonde who just gives her a look that Cordelia can’t quite decipher.
“She’s probably just hungover,” Queenie excuses, although she looks just about as confused as Cordelia feels.
Yeah, Cordelia thinks. She’s probably just hungover. She leaves her tea abandoned.
“I’m going to go get dressed. Can you all make sure the younger girls —“
“Of course, Miss Cordelia,” Mallory says. Good, sweet Mallory.
Cordelia side steps so she can lean down and kiss her on the top of the head. “Thank you, girls.”
They chorus after her as she walks out of the kitchen and treks upstairs, hoping to God Misty her bedroom is free so she can change.
(Something goes her way, at least, since Misty is already downstairs and allows Cordelia a moment to breathe and reign in her emotions.)
It’s just a shopping trip. She’s just hungover. She keeps repeating this to herself as she changes into casual clothing and goes to meet Misty downstairs.
“Okay, let’s go,” Cordelia says, and Misty trails behind but doesn’t say a word.
She doesn’t talk during the ride to the store, either. Doesn’t even look at her. Grunts in response when Cordelia asks her questions.
They’re looking through the fruit, and Misty goes to hand a plum to Cordelia and their hands touch. Misty makes a noise, as if touching Cordelia physically hurt her, and drops it.
Misty bends to pick it up and Cordelia touches her arm to try to get her attention. Misty jerks out of her grasp.
“Just don’t touch me, okay?”
Cordelia swallows and clenches her teeth together, carefully willing her mask to stay in place. She licks suddenly dried lips, replies, “I’m sorry.”
Misty grunts in response, moving a couple of steps away. Cordelia breathes heavy through her nose for a second before grabbing another plum and putting it into a bag.
They don’t talk for the rest of the trip and the atmosphere is giving Cordelia a tension headache.
When they get back home, Misty hops out of the car just as Cordelia stops it and slams the door. She’s about to go into the house, empty handed, before Cordelia stops her with, “can you take some groceries in, please?” Her voice is detached, and she knows it’s so unlike she talks to any of her girls. “Let some of the younger girls know and they’ll get the rest.”
Misty just turns and stares at her for a second and concedes, grabbing some of the bags and hobbling into the house. Cordelia looks up at the sky, dark and cloudy and grey, like a storm is about to pass, and takes a deep breath of fresh air before walking into the house herself.
She’s greeted with Madison, who is lighting a cigarette. “Dude, she’s fuckin’ pissed,” Madison says, like it’s not already obvious.
“Don’t smoke inside,” Cordelia says by means of response.
“Then keep me company out here while I smoke,” Madison volleys back and Cordelia does, because the house feels claustrophobic with this tension. “She usually only talks to me like that so you really must’a fucked up, Cordy.”
Cordelia glares at her. “Mind your business, Madison,” she says, her voice taking on an edge she rarely uses unless threatened. Maybe she is threatened. Somehow.
That feeling hasn’t left her since this morning and Cordelia guesses this is what it was — Misty was the bad feeling.
She watches the clouds move above her, darken more of the sky.
“She digs you, you must know that.” She drops her cigarette and stomps it out. At what must be a dumbfounded expression painted on Cordelia’s face, Madison just keeps going. “Last night a guy tried to pick her up and she shot it right down. Don’t get me wrong, the guy was a fuckin’ tool, but she didn’t even look at him. Get a couple drinks in her and she gets mean.”
Cordelia isn’t following. Her eyebrows knit together.
“She kept talking about you. Pretty much all night.”
“Well, I’m one of the things you girls have in common,” Cordelia tries, but it’s a weak argument.
Madison gives her a classic bitch, please look. “She likes you, Cordy. Don’t be stupid. And you’re not my type but you’re not a total loss either.”
Cordelia is momentarily more shocked by the seriousness in Madison’s words than she is the confession. Momentarily.
“You’re out of your mind,” she says once she’s able to replay the words she just heard. “Misty would never —“
“Listen,” Madison says, inching closer. She touches Cordelia’s hand, holds it in both of hers. “I’m going to be nice once and once only, because you have been a mother to me when no one else has and been kinder to me than anyone in my life.” Cordelia feels a wave of emotion but pushes it down, nods for Madison to continue. “The swamp rat likes you. And you deserve to have someone who isn’t a piece of shit.”
Cordelia brings Madison in for a hug, and the girl goes. Just for a second, but she tucks her head under Cordelia’s chin and grasps tight until she pushes herself away and dusts off her clothes.
“Now that my good deed of the week is done,” she says flippantly, but her eyes are still soft. She gives Cordelia one final look before going inside.
Cordelia takes a moment before she follows.
“Zoe?”
Zoe looks up at Cordelia, smiles, waiting.
“Can you get dinner started? There’s something I need to do.”
“She’s in the green house,” Zoe says, matter-of-factly.
Cordelia bites down on her tongue and gives a weak smile, walks through the house until she gets into the green house. She closes the door firmly and walks until she sees wild blonde curls. Misty’s back is to her so that’s probably why she jumps half a foot in the air when Cordelia says, “Misty?”
Misty turns after a moment and she looks tired. Looks like she may have been crying, too. Cordelia had made her cry. She feels like shit now, like a pit opened up in her stomach.
“Can we talk?” Cordelia asks, voice gentle and timid.
Misty gives a one-shoulder shrug. “If ya want.” She doesn’t sound mean or opposed at all. She sounds almost defeated.
Cordelia moves a little closer, but still far enough that Misty doesn’t feel like she’s being smothered. Cordelia stands there, eyes looking anywhere but at Misty, trying to figure out how to start this conversation and what to say. The awkward, long-ish silence gets broken when Misty blurts, “I’m in love with you.”
Surely she’s misheard. “Wh—”
“I’m in love with you,” she repeats, louder now. “God knows I’ve been in love with ya since ya let me stay here all the way at the beginning. I was in love with ya then and it just got stronger when I got back, when I was told you never stopped looking for me.”
Cordelia can’t wrap her brain around it.
“You—” She breathes deep through her nose. She wills herself not to cry. “I don’t understand,” she says finally.
Misty looks resigned. “It’s okay that you don’t feel the same. I was actin’ like a jerk earlier, like how a man would act if he was rejected, and that’s not okay. I’m sorry.”
Cordelia’s brain is working too fast. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Cordelia replies weakly. “I—”
“It’s okay,” Misty says, comfortingly. “I never expected ya to feel the same or anythin’, and I don’t want ya to feel guilty. I just had to get it off my chest, ya know?”
She—she thinks that Cordelia doesn’t feel the same? Something bubbles up inside of her and she tries her hardest to keep it pushed down until a laugh bursts through. She laughs, and laughs, and laughs until the dam bursts and she starts to cry.
Misty looks at her in bewilderment.
“Miss Cordelia?”
Cordelia wipes at her face, making the tear-tracks on her cheeks uneven.
“I’m not laughing at you,” Cordelia says. She takes deep breaths, trying to reign in her emotions. She’s on her haunches, looking up at Misty through blurry eyes. “I’m just overwhelmed. I’m sorry.”
Misty moves down onto her knees in front of her and takes her hand until Cordelia’s tears subside.
“What just happened?”
Cordelia doesn’t reply for what feels like hours, allowing her tears to finish and her face to dry, and she stands up and puts distance between her and Misty so she can get this out without another breakdown.
“I’m in love with you,” Cordelia says back. “I’ve… I’ve been in love with you for years. When I first met you, when you turned to ash in my arms… all those years I spent searching for you, I’ve loved you. It’s only gotten stronger since you’ve come back.”
Misty opens and closes her mouth a few times, eyebrows knitting together.
“But you and Coco—”
Cordelia’s world halts. “Me and Coco what ?” she snaps, more aggressive than she means it. “Is that why you’ve been so cold toward me since last night?”
Misty looks guilty. “I was jealous,” she admits.
Cordelia’s legs move her forward until she’s cupping Misty’s face in her hands, although her brain hasn’t seem to have caught up yet.
“Her boyfriend dumped her and she came to me for a shoulder to cry on,” Cordelia says, voice soft.
“But this mornin’, y'all were all over each other.”
Cordelia laughs, this time it’s gentle. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re touchy here.”
Misty laughs too. “That’s true,” she admits. “I’m sorry. I let things go too far and I should’a talked to ya instead of getting drunk with the girls and unloading it onto them and then treating you the way I did. You deserve better than that ‘n I’m sorry.”
Cordelia’s heart thumps hard and she thinks it might burst from her chest. “I need to say something, but I don’t want you to interrupt me. Can you do that?”
Misty nods.
Cordelia keeps her hands on her face, looks her in the eye. “I know I don’t have the greatest track record with healthy relationships,” she starts off and narrows her eyes when Misty opens her mouth to rebut. “I know it. It isn’t just about Hank. It’s about a lot of things.” Like my mother, Cordelia thinks but doesn’t say. Instead, she continues, “so I never thought in a million years that you would ever, and I mean ever , reciprocate what I feel for you. I’ve kept it bottled up inside me, allowing it to go stagnant when you died, but then when you came back… it festered. It got stronger. Sometimes, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
Misty gets closer. “Can I speak yet?”
“Yeah,” Cordelia breathes out. They’re barely inches apart now.
“I will spend the rest of my life tryin’ to make sure ya get the love ya deserve. Because Lord knows you’ve gone without for too long, and all of us here? We love you more than we can say.” Their noses touch. “ I love you more than I can even say.”
Cordelia can’t take it anymore, she fists her hand in a mess of curls and brings Misty’s mouth to hers. Misty melts, almost like her body is saying finally, you kissed me. Cordelia can only hope Misty can feel everything that Cordelia can’t adequately express through words.
They kiss, and they kiss and they kiss, Cordelia’s tongue licking into Misty’s mouth, staking some kind of ownership that she never thought was hers. Misty is pliant under her hands, pressing her body up against Cordelia’s and allowing Cordelia to walk them backward until Misty’s back hits the table. When Cordelia slips her leg in between Misty’s thighs, the younger woman lets out a moan and breaks their kiss.
They’re breathing heavy, Misty’s chest heaving and Cordelia watching her through lidded eyes.
“That was awesome,” Misty says after a moment.
Cordelia chuckles, heart rate still up high enough to make her vision a little fuzzy.
“We should go inside and get dinner,” Cordelia whispers. Her fingers have since traveled from Misty’s face to her neck, making a U between her thumb and the rest of her hand. She pushes up, just a little, until Misty’s eyes meet hers. They’re almost completely black.
“I was hopin’ you’d take me to bed,” Misty says back, chin resting on Cordelia’s thumb.
“After dinner,” Cordelia promises, leaning forward to kiss Misty once more. “After everyone else is asleep.” She lets her arm drop, releasing her hold on Misty’s throat.
Misty just nods, grabs Cordelia’s hand. “Well, let’s get eatin’. I have to be energized for later.”
Cordelia just chuckles.
“That’d be best.”
Misty pulls Cordelia forward, looks over her shoulder with a flirty little smile, and leads them into the kitchen where Madison is sitting on the counter talking to Zoe.
Madison gives Cordelia a wink when she sees her and Cordelia smiles back, softly, feeling something pull in her chest and settle.
Cordelia plays back Misty’s words, we love you more than we can say. Maybe, just maybe, she’s right. And maybe, just maybe, Cordelia can start to believe it.