Tzipporah's little sisters had been annoying her a little more than usual lately, giggling and whispering whenever she and Moses were together. Whenever she thought she was having a quiet, peaceful moment alone with Moses, a wayward giggle inevitably betrayed the presence of her little sisters. Why couldn't they leave her and Moses alone in peace?
I can't possibly be in love. They're just being silly girls.
And wasn't that in the nature of little girls–and sisters–to tease each other about love? Tzipporah never personally felt the need to marry, to have a husband–she would have been fine if she stayed home in her community, tending the flocks of sheep, without the need for children. She didn't care that the sister closest in age to her kept teasing her about not wanting to marry. She had three–or, rather, two, since the youngest wasn't in that falling-over-handsome-boys stage of her life–sisters who obviously did care about meeting a handsome boy someday and having children. Tzipporah wasn't even interested in all the things that happened in the privacy of one's bed once married, nor did she really feel physically attracted to anyone. Aesthetically, she could understand why someone was attractive, but never felt any desire for them if one knew what she meant.
Meanwhile, the two of her sisters daily sat outside their tents, neglecting their flocks when Jethro or Tzipporah weren't looking, and pointing out "handsome boys" as they tended their own sheep. Tzipporah had never felt the need to, not even in the supposed time of youth when girls supposedly went through that "phase" of life.
Nevertheless, her three little sisters inevitably found herself and Moses, and started whispering and giggling, reminding her sharply of how much they had grown up, leaving the playfulness and innocence of childhood behind them.
Wasn't it yesterday when they were small?
Jethro had always spoken about the sunrise and sunset of life, and how everyone's lives were like a day, with sunrise, morning, midday, evening, and dusk. The night fell when death came to everyone, all in their own time.
Years passed, and even Tzipporah couldn't help but notice her changing feelings for Moses–she still didn't feel anything physical toward him, but more and more she felt like she'd be happy living the rest of her life with him. She didn't know what romance was supposed to feel or look like–wasn't their relationship already beautiful enough without the need for "romance" whatever that was? Yet, she knew she loved Moses, cherished and wanted him with all her heart.
And still her sisters goaded her on about him, teasing about love. Once, she'd told her next younger sister, while they were talking together in a tent,
"It's too cliche, I won't say I'm in love."
Her sister had sidled up to her, linking her arms around one of Tzipporah's, leaning her gentle head on her shoulder. A little kiss was dropped on her warm skin there, a quick sisterly note of affection.
"I can see it, we all can," she whispered, "In the way you look at each other."
"But how?"
"It's…deep. Longing. Beautiful." a sigh here. "Have you seen how he looks at you?"
Now that Tzipporah thought about it, she remembered how full of love–just unending, unconditional love–Moses' eyes were when he gazed at her, unspeaking, with the fondest smile. How his hand caught hers, interlinking their fingers together. How he kept so close to her when they talked for hours into the evening, his arm barely touching hers. The gentle way he would tuck a strand of her hair behind an ear, before leaning in for a kiss.
She yelped a little when her sister jabbed a finger into her ribs. Tzipporah tossed a glance in her direction to see a knowing smirk on her sister's lips.
"You know it, sis. You can't deny it. So tell me: do you love him?"
Tzipporah stared out at the night, watching stars twinkle on the border of the desert.
"Do I love him?"
"Well?"
His soft voice, the way he kissed her so tender, how his hands just perfectly fit within hers. How they could sit side by side, silent but content, all day if they could. Tzipporah closed her eyes, just letting her smile slide over her lips, knowing, knowing now.
My sisters know. They knew long before I knew.
She opened her eyes, turning to drop a dear kiss into her sister's hair, leaning her head on the younger's.
"I suppose I do," Tzipporah murmured.
"Have you told him?"
"I will," she whispered, "I will."
"Tomorrow?"
"What?"
"Tomorrow?" her sister persisted, "Promise me?"
She knew full well her sister would be waiting nearby, or at least one sister anyway, once this one told their other siblings.
"I promise."
"You promise to tell him 'I love you' tomorrow?"
She wound her arms around her sister, feeling that the younger was starting to get sleepy after such a long day.
"I promise to tell him 'I love you' tomorrow."
And that's exactly what she did.
A/N: This originally came from a writing prompt on Tumblr, and this story just flowed like water (or, if you will, like the Nile). I was also exploring the idea of an aro/ace Tzipporah, and I hope I managed to capture that here too.
Also, I feel like I'll be writing a bit more for PoE again, after having a long break to refresh myself before returning to this fandom! So you'll probably see me around again. :)