A few kettles
I wish someone had told me how good this would feel. I wouldn't have fought for so long against my feelings if I'd known that she would fit into my arms like God himself had made her so. I am so completely in love with everything about her.
Her smile that can light up a room if you are one of the few people who are lucky enough to see it at it's brightest.
The way her nose wrinkles when she laughs.
Her melodic Scottish accent that grows stronger when it's just the two of us alone and she doesn't have to act meek. The way that voice lapses into Doric or Gaelic when we ,*ahem* you know, makes me weak.
Her perfect figure that was shielded from my view for so many years by her habit. The curves that I delight in running my fingers all over. The mounds that perfectly fit into my hands.
Her hands are so smooth. You'd never think she didn't have a skin care routine as vigorous as Nurse Franklins. Even after long tiring births when she is covered in grime and blood every inch of her skin feels like silk against my own once she slips into my bed.
My name is Sister Julienne of the Order of St Raymond Nonnatus and I am in love with Sister Bernadette. Just don't tell Sister Evangelina.