Franky was running through the woods as fast as her legs would carry her, but still it seemed the woman chasing her was edging closer and closer. The think underlay was making it difficult to see where she was going, but still she paced on, her heart thumping. She could see Bridget at the other end of the forest and she was running as fast as she could towards her, her safe haven. She just had to make it to her and they would both be ok. Suddenly, she heard gunfire. The older brunette woman chasing her was snarling as she chased after her, a revolver in her hand. Franky tried to run faster, but she tripped on a thick root of a tree, covered by the forest wilderness. The woman was getting closer, she had no choice but to pick herself up and run through the pain in her ankle. Bridget was getting closer.
"Run baby," the blonde yelled. "She can't get you once you're with me, run faster!"
I'm coming Gidge, she tried to say, but no words came out. Another gun shot. The blonde fell to the ground. Franky stopped in her tracks and tried to scream, but still no sound could come from her mouth. Her chaser caught up with her, barely breaking a sweat.
"I told you I would haunt you forever, Francesca, you can never outrun your mother."
Franky jolted awake with a start, her heart racing and her breath shallow and laboured. Tears were in her eyes and it took a second or so to realise she was in her bed. Safe. She still felt scared, regardless. The brunette instinctively reached out to the other side of the double bed and started to sob when she felt the warm skin of her lover beside her. It was just a dream. Bridget is alive and here, with me, she told herself.
"It's ok baby," Bridged hushed tenderly. "It was just a bad dream."
Franky curled herself small against Bridget, one of the rare times she openly showed her vulnerability and insecurities. Her sleep was plagued with nightmares this last month, probably due to the anniversary of her mother's death approaching. She hated her mother to the core, but still the anniversary of her death brought back the awful memories from her childhood. Bridget rubbed her back in small circles and rested her lips on Franky's forehead, giving her fiancée time to calm.
"She killed you this time," Franky murmured.
"She didn't, I'm here. I'm ok, you're ok."
"Fuck, I love you," Franky gasped, her lips on Bridget's. "Don't ever leave me."
Bridget kissed her gently before finding Franky's tear-stained cheeks and kissing away the salty tears. "I love you too baby. I'm not going anywhere." Franky let out a small sob and pulled the blonde closer to her.
"I need you," she whispered, her fingers against Bridget's lips. "I need to feel you."
Bridget moved a lock of dark hair away from Franky's face and began to kiss her, slowly but with immense passion, before sliding her hand down her lover's taut body. Franky moaned into Bridget's mouth as Bridget caressed her left nipple with her thumb and index finger, not breaking her lips away from Franky's. She could taste the salt of her tears and kissed her harder, desperate to distract her from the emotional pain. Bridget only broke away from the kiss to leave kisses on the brunette's neck, and her hand edged further down her body, feather light touches leading the way to the sacred spot.
"Fuck," Franky gasped. She knew it wouldn't take her long to reach her climax this time.
"I haven't even touched you yet," Bridget murmured, her right hand slipping below the waistband of Franky's purple and white pyjama bottoms agonisingly slowly. Bridget was also ferociously turned on, the throbbing in between her legs almost too much to bear, but right now was reserved for the beautiful brunette; she needed to release her tension more so.
"Touch me," Franky begged. She had cupped one of Bridget's breasts in her hand and was desperate for a release. "I need to feel you."
Bridget obeyed, and found her lover's silky slit. Franky exhaled sharply and gave in to the pleasure as Bridget rubbed her clit.
"You're so wet baby," Bridget growled. God, she was so fucking aroused. Franky was a vocal lover, and she moaned as she edged closer to climax.
"Let it go, baby," Bridget whispered huskily as she nibbled on Franky's earlobe. "Come for me."
The blonde woman's husky whispering in her ear was more than enough to tip Franky over the edge; she gave into the orgasm tearing through her, one hand gripping her pleasure-giver's free hand, the other tangled in the blonde hair she loved so much and she cried out, Bridget's name on her lips.
She lay, quietly, after, her body edged closer to Bridget's and the only audible sound being her deep breathing, which slowly subsided. She turned on her side and Bridget draped her arm over her waist, pulling Franky as close to her as humanly possible. Franky took the hand holding her and kissed it.
"G'night Gidge," she said, sleep already halfway invading her body.
"Sweet dreams, baby."