Author's note: Hey! I think this is the start of what's going to be a series of foxxay one-shots, just about little moments of their interactions and stuff. Anyway, enjoy!
#1
Trying to hide the clatter as she put away the various watering cans and other apparatus used for tending to the plants Misty let out a yawn, she'd been so wrapped up in what she was doing that she hadn't realised the time; two-fifteen am.
I don't know why Miss Cordelia's so particular about all this tidyin', it's not as if I'm not gonna get out the same stuff tomorrow, and pretty much every day after that.
She sighed to herself before heading out of the greenhouse and up the stairs only to pause in front of her own bedroom door before taking a few hesitant steps down the hall, moving to sit down outside Cordelia's.
The journeys to sit silently at the headmistress' bedroom door had become something of a nightly routine of Misty's. She wasn't entirely sure why, but she felt oddly protective over the older witch. She was the only person she'd felt a connection with since her death, and it was obvious that she'd been hurting. And, because nobody else seemed to be thinking of Cordelia, the young witch had taken it upon herself to check up on her, standing guard at her door every night, listening to see if she'd got to sleep okay.
The first week or so was the worst, she could hear the other woman's muffled sobs through the thick wood of the door but for the life of her couldn't work up the courage to turn the handle or even knock. She longed to take Cordelia in her arms, to comfort her and hold her and just be there. However, she knew she had to hold back. Despite the connection she knew was there between the two she was absolutely terrified of scaring the other woman, making her feel uncomfortable; she could hear this huge part of her brain burning her ears with possible accusations, rejection was unavoidable, I can't.
This internal battle would wage each night when she sat leaning against the hall outside Delia's room, until her sleeves were wet from wiping away her tears.
You're a selfish woman, Misty Day. Night after night hearin' that woman in there cryin' out, needin' comfort, an' here you are sittin' on the ground tryin' an' failin' to will your stupid hand to reach out and grab that damn doorknob.
After a while the sobbing stopped, she still sat outside the door though, every night, praying that it was the start of some sort of recovery, that it was the last time she'd have to listen to the woman she cared so deeply for cry.
After those nights it was fine, for a while. She would sit and listen to the silence of Cordeila's sleep for a time, before heading to her own bed.
Tonight, however, was different. As she headed down the hall her brow furrowed, hearing the familiar sound of sobbing from through the door. A few steps further and her frown deepened, there was a sense of urgency to the cries that she hadn't heard before, and as her pace quickened she realised the headmistress was muttering to herself, quick, harsh phrases that she couldn't quite make out. Yes, tonight was different, and it scared her more than she knew what to do with.
Her concern became all too much and she was overwhelmed by a need to know that the other woman was okay, to make her okay. Before she knew what she was doing her hand was around the doorknob and she was stepping through the threshold, hesitantly calling out for the other woman although she was nowhere in sight.
Shit shit shit shit.
"Miss Cordelia?"
The clatter of glass on tile sounded in response to her words. The bathroom.
"Go away"
The voice was weak, hoarse, and Misty was by no means convinced.
"Beggin' your pardon Miss Cordelia but I ain't goin' nowhere, I just want to help."
Tentatively, she moved towards the bathroom door, her pace quickening when she heard the commotion going on inside.
"Misty, d-don't come in here I'm not-"
The door swung open and Misty froze, taking in the scene before her. Cordelia was standing with her back to the tub, there was a flash of metal in her hand, a broken bottle on the floor and blood. Lots of blood.
The older woman swayed before turning away and all but collapsing onto the tub, her breathing ragged and her shoulders heaving with silent sobs. Misty felt tears threaten to spill over in her own eyes and it was then that she pulled herself together and decided to focus her attention on the broken bottle, bending over to pick up the shards lying on the floor.
Don't ya dare cry - not here, not now. Not while she needs ya.
"Just go." Cordelia muttered, not even bothering to look over at the younger woman in her shame. Misty could smell the drink on her from across the room, the bottle had been empty when it smashed.
Continuing to clean up the mess of glass on the floor, the swamp witch pretended not to have heard. She cared far too much for the older woman to leave right now, to leave her alone like this, and Cordelia should damn well know that by now.
"God!" Cordelia broke the silence, "Why are you still here?" She had one hand held two her face, pressing two fingers against the bridge of her nose, the other she used to gesture wildly between Misty and the door. The words came out harsh, and the younger woman's breath hitched in her throat. Cordelia felt as if there was a veil between her and reality, like everything was muffled, or like she was watching from somewhere else. A wave of guilt washed over her for speaking so harshly to the only person who showed genuine affection towards her, she desperately wanted Misty to stay, she longed for the comfort, but in her current state she couldn't even reach those feelings let alone voice them.
Misty straightened up and stood, hesitating for a fraction of a second before a fiery determination came over her and she turned towards the other woman.
"Now, Miss 'Delia, I know you're sad an' I know you're hurtin' but you've got to realise that I'm here to help and damnit I am gonna help you. If you really want me to go then I will but I don't think that's what you want, an' I know for sure it ain't what you need."
She paused for a second before kneeling before her headmistress, taking up her hands and turning her body to asses her wounds.
"Now, lets get you cleaned up."
Cordelia surrendered to the younger woman's healing touch in silence, her eyes dragging blearily around the room, looking anywhere other than at Misty.
Gently moving her hand over the collection of angry red gashes on the thighs below her Misty drew in a shaky breath, she couldn't help but notice the hundreds of tiny pink and white scars that already covered the milky flesh.
Alright, she thought to herself, this is the easy part; the healin'. The flesh and blood healin'. I can do this, this is what I'm made for.
Not letting her mind dwell on the way she felt about Cordelia's pain she focused on the task at hand, cleaning off the cuts and bandaging the deeper ones, the deep care she had for the woman mirrored in every touch.
Eventually, Cordelia's sobs slowed to sniffles, the effects of the alcohol began to leave her, and for the first time that evening she allowed herself to focus on Misty; her hands, the way her hair sat, the way she'd placed her heavy rings on the side of the tub before tending to the wounds before her. She's wonderful. The older woman let out a sigh of relief that the other girl was here, she felt safer, calmer, that generally tended to be the effect of Misty Day.
Silence fell between the two once the younger girl finished with the cleaning and general taking care of things, a thoughtful expression crossed her face as she moved to join Cordelia sitting on the edge of the tub. The headmistress felt herself overcome with fear that she would once again be left alone, that the other witch would leave her.
Misty's face fell once again as Cordelia's sniffles began to sound more and more like they were returning to sobs and she reached out and brushed a stray hair out of the older woman's face, moving her head so that she could look into her eyes.
"No more cryin' miss Cordelia, please, no more…"
Cordelia's gaze lingered on Misty as the other girl's eyes dropped down to her lap and she began to play with her hands, intertwining her fingers. The swamp witch cleared her throat, nerves playing up as she prepared to tackle the moment that she felt, for some reason, could make or break the friendship growing between the two.
"I don't know why ya do it, the hurtin' yourself…"
Misty noticed the other woman open her mouth to protest and her head snapped up, once again locking their eyes.
"Let me finish, please Miss 'Delia, I want you to hear this.
Now, as I said, I don't know why, an' - much as it pains me that ya feel as if ya have to - I'm not gonna tell ya to stop, it's your choice an' all, but I just want ya to know that I'm, well, y'know, here. I'm here for you Miss Cordelia an' I'm not goin' anywhere, no matter how fierce you try t' protest."
She broke their eye contact and mumbled something too quiet for Cordelia to make out, feeling the blush spread across her face. She turned her head as the older woman leant her head on her shoulder.
"I do care about you Miss Cordelia, I care about you an awful lot."
A few moments passed in silence, with Cordelia's head resting on her shoulder Misty's arm found it's way around the other woman's body and the two just sat like that.
"I'm just so tired Misty,
Will you stay with me tonight?"
The vulnerability in the older woman's voice struck a chord with Misty as she led her to the bedroom. Not wanting to overstep her bounds the younger woman lay as far from the other as the bed would allow, reaching a comforting arm across to trace patterns on her back or play with her hair.
Only when she felt Cordelia's breathing even out and she was sure she was asleep did she close her eyes and allow her body to inch closer to the other woman's in the darkness.
By morning they were wrapped in each others' arms.