Ask Me To Promise

Today was her birthday. Twenty-eight.

Sunset basks in the afterglow, body awash in warmth and endorphins. She croons a tired, happy groan. Shifts herself to press bare skin to Adagio's.

"Am I that good, after all this time?" Adagio smirks, running tapered fingers through scarlet-gold waves. She plucks them at the edges, twisting some around her knuckles like twine.

"Dunno," Sunset yawns. She crawls deeper into the crook of Adagio's arm, finding a spot and palming it. "I've never done anything with a siren before."

With a roll of her eyes, Adagio chuckles and reaches out with her free hand. Snatching her reading glasses off the nightstand, novella following, she flicks on the light. It bathes them in soft yellow, reflecting off the sweaty dew of their bodies.

"Would you like to continue?"

"After what we just-" Sunset yawns. "After what we just did? I'm ready to go to sleep, Addy."

Adagio goes silent. Sunset stays in the quiet with her, a rising tightness in her chest making her neck and shoulders scrunch. "I-is everything-"

"Hush hush. You're fine." The book Adagio had at her side, cracked open and ready to read, shuts again. The pages thunk closed with an eerie punctuation. She goes still a moment longer. "Addy, hm?"

Sunset's voice is a whisper, shy and cowed. "Is that... okay?"

Adagio attempts to stifle a yawn of her own. It fails miserably. "Sunny honey. We've done this little bed bang and breakfast routine how many times now?"

Sunset buries her face in the crook of Adagio's neck. Instinctually she breathes in, tipping the scent of mango butter shampoo, sweat, and sensuality into her lungs. She fills herself to the brim with it, until her cup runneth over.

"I dunno. I kinda lost track after April."

"Exactly." Adagio pats her head condescendingly, like a beloved pet.

Sunset considers slapping it away, cheeks red with embarrassment, indignation, and buzzing excitement. The familiar, unwelcome sensation of guilt wriggles its worming way through her guts, and she does her best to temper it.

For a stretch, their lips do not move. Tranquility dominates the space between them - what little there is - and she realizes, after many months, she feels something she's forgotten.

Bah-bum. Bah-bum. Bah-bum. Bah-bum.

A lump bobs in her throat. She attempts to choke it down, but the effort doubles the sensation. Fists tighten around her esophagus.

"Oh, no. Don't do that." Adagio, frowning, moves to sit and brush Sunset's cheeks dry. She stops her with a palm flat on her chest, keeping her down.

"No. It's okay. I..." She swallows. Swallows. Swallows again, until she can rein herself in. "Thank you," she says, and means it amongst the most meaningful things she's ever said aloud.

"And to think this all started as a therapy session. "Either I'm a horrible counselor, or a very good one."

"Oh you're horrible alright. "Sunset grins, biting her neck. Adagio gasps and smacks the back of her head. After another happy pause, she continues. Voice back to below a whisper. "Official, then?"

Adagio pecks the top of her head, turning out the light. "If it wasn't already, I'm not certain when it will be."