A/N:
Lord...so, yeah there's a lot to say. This is my attempt to get back into things. It's been like a whole year and I'm not quite sure how that happened. Just a heavy, nonstop dosage of life's bullshit with a fuckton of writers block. I wanted to post this because I'd like to start writing for pleasure again and I felt you guys deserved to know what was going on with Home and Meadow Moonlight. I'm still working on those two, especially MM since it has legit been over a year since I updated it. I hope you guys are still interested in it. I will certainly be working on them for the next few days as classes have been cancelled in my area because of Hurricane Irma. Anyway, this is what happened when I attempted to get the juices flowing again. Though I don't deserve your reviews, consider letting me know what you think about this one?
P.S. the point of view changes are intentional
"So, do you want to tell me what happened the other night, Maura?" The woman looked up to the doctor. One she'd been seeing for a few years now. His eyebrows were dark and thick, overrunning his black, plastic rimmed glasses. He sat, one leg draping over the other and waited.
"Dr. Kulich, I've already told you what happened."
"You said she scared you. Would you be okay to elaborate?"
Maura looked down to her fingers, rubbing against the stitching of the grey couch. She sighed in embarrassment, considering if she would be okay at all after what happened. "I took your advice." She glanced up to see his eyebrows raise in delight. "I wrote it down. It's actually pretty long."
He nodded his head for a moment, his eyes scanning the notebook beside her before focusing again. "Would you like to share it?"
"Okay." She swallowed, moving her hand only enough to grab the book and flip to the third page. "I didn't notice the first month or so. Too enraptured in what she had just done to me. Like putting one finger over the other, as if wishing for luck, before slowly sliding them—" Maura brought her hand up to her burning cheek. "I've been writing in it more privately, if that makes sense. Trying to analyze the emotions I was feeling in that moment. It didn't occur to me that I'd have to read it aloud and I…some of it is—"
"I don't mean to interrupt you, but would it be easier for you if I read it myself?"
I didn't notice the first month or so. Too enraptured in what she had just done to me. Like putting one finger over the other, as if wishing for luck, before slowly sliding them into me. Like tilting her head to the left for better access to the space between my hip and thigh. Like walking her hand up my chest, pausing to wrap gently around my neck. Once, I even encouraged her to do it.
"You can squeeze if you want, Jane. I would…I would let you know if it was too much. If I couldn't breathe."
She keeps it there every time. As if she's actually debating it. But ultimately, she chooses again not to tighten her grip, even though I've said I'd be interested in trying it. As if she can sense my disappointment in her foregoing the option of pain and pleasure, she moves her hand up the side of my head threading her fingers into my hair. Five fingers ball into a fist and she pulls. Hard. I whimper and fall into it. She waits until she thinks I'm asleep, breath evened out, calm and sated. Then, the bathroom door clicks closed.
And sleep came easily. It always did right after 2 am, the previous activities taking no less than an hour. But it wasn't unwanted. No matter what time I had to be awake the next morning, it was always worth it, because I needed this. I think we both did.
Sometimes, she would wait until she thought I was settled and then three soft knocks on the front door would come; so timid as if she didn't know why she was there. More often though, she would text a simple, "awake?" then let herself in with the key in the box buried behind the shrubs.
She'd walk in, shoulders tense, me already unbuttoning her dress shirt, dropping her jacket next to the door. We rarely even spoke before our lips were occupied and the marathon would begin. If I were to be completely honest, I'd tell Jane how much it hurt that we never talked about anything. I tried once, though and it went exactly how I thought it would.
I moaned as Jane tugged at my underwear.
"That's what you want?"
"Yes…Can I…ask you something?"
"Anything, baby."
"How was work?" Jane stopped, teeth poised to bite at my left thigh.
"What?"
"You just seemed a little upset when you got here, and I was just wondering if you'd want to talk about it."
"Talk," Jane said dipping her tongue lower. "S'that really what you want me to do with my mouth right now?"
She didn't give me a chance to answer, slipping her hand down my hip and into my body.
It wasn't as if I wanted to date her. Well, maybe, but I wanted to know something about the woman whose fingers and tongue and powerful thighs had been relieving my stress for the past four months.
The doctor stopped, closing the book with his finger still between the pages. "You only told me of this relationship a month ago."
"Yes, well I wouldn't call it a relationship, Dr. Kulich." He didn't say anything, simply looked at the binding of the pages before opening it again. "Wait," Maura sat straighter and pensively wrapped a lock of her hair around her finger. "I think I can tell you the rest of what happened. It gets a little confusing and it's probably best if I just...tell you." The man placed the book between them on the small coffee table.
The talking, or the lack thereof, was just one of the things that confused her. Currently, the little bell was ringing in the back of her mind. Jane always waited until she thought Maura was asleep. Until her breath evened out and she'd turned on her side. She'd slip out of the bed, grabbing whatever clothes were not thrown across the room and softly pad into the bathroom.
Sometimes she'd spend ten minutes in there, recently though, and now, she was going on twenty minutes. The light was not on and Maura never heard a flush before Jane would come back in, collect the rest of her clothes and leave.
And there was humming or mumbling of some sort. Not enough for Maura to understand what she was saying, but whatever it was, was constant. At first Maura felt shock, which turned to guilt then to anger. Maybe, Jane was in there talking to her girlfriend or wife, but after the fifth time, she'd taken a chance, looking over her shoulder to discover that Jane's cellphone was on the night stand. Maura was curious at the least.
So curious that she was propelled out of the bed this time. She crept closely to the door tying the sash of her robe and pressing her ear against the cool wood to listen.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I won't…I'll try not to do it again."
"Jane?" Maura said knuckles tapping the door and testing the waters. There was no response, only more mumbles. The blonde pushed the door open and her heart beat in her ears as her eyes adjusted to the darker room.
"I know it's wrong. I know. I know."
Maura looked to the brunette, undershirt clinging to her back and boxer briefs on inside out. She was hunched over the bathtub and her knees were shaking just slightly under the weight of her body as she knelt on the ground. Maura's eyes traced over her, coming to her arms, bent and covered in scratches placed there by Maura's desperate grasp and elbows resting on the lip of the tub. Hands clasped together, balled in a fist…resting against her forehead.
"Oh," Maura breathed. The thoughts in her mind went blank and her breathing deepened like the moment before realizing you're going to be sick.
Jane turned her head only enough to acknowledge that she was aware of the other woman's presence. She let her shoulders drop and shook her head as if annoyed at a fly buzzing around her ear.
"I'm sorry…please. Just...please." she paused readjusting to sit higher on her knees. "Our father, who art in heaven. Hollowed be thy name."
"Oh," Maura breathed again, bringing her hand up to cover her heart.
"Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. As it is in heaven," she said louder.
"Jane," Maura stepped closer.
"Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses," she continued. "As we forgive those who trespass against us."
"Jane—"
"No," she spat. Maura's bare foot made a squeaking noise as she halted her movement suddenly at the order, chilled by the harshest tone she'd ever heard the brunette utter.
She didn't know Jane was religious. She didn't know that this was what she declared after she pulled her tongue out of Maura; after she gripped the smaller woman's thighs, wrapping them around her waist and grinded her body into hers; after she bit the skin just under her collarbone; after she dipped her dripping fingers into Maura's mouth; after she made Maura come three times pleaded Oh to God. She didn't know anything about this woman, but her heart still felt like it was being tightened painfully like a ring forced on a finger.
"Lead us not into…temptation. But deliver us from evil."
Maura could feel her body begin to shake and dread seeped into her stomach slowly. "T-There's nothing wrong with you. What we did…it's not-"
"For thyn is the kingdom."
"Please."
"The power."
"Jane-"
"And the glory."
"You're scaring me. Jane, please—"
"Forever and ever."
"Stop!" Maura shouted, bringing her hands to cover her ears. Her knees felt weak and she lowered herself to the ground, eyes shut tightly. The room remained silent, but Maura could hear her own ragged breath. She couldn't handle this…didn't know how to handle this.
The brunette brought her hand up to touch her forehead, then her chest, her left shoulder and then her right.
"…Amen," she whispered.
Jane got to her feet slowly taking a deep breath. She turned and walked to Maura who was still crouched on the floor.
"It's okay." She stood in front of her looking down, calm in the neutrality of her eyebrows and her eyes shining. The corner of her lips even tilted upwards a little as she bent down kissing the top of Maura's mussed hair. "It's okay. I promise." She held her lips there a beat longer before standing straight. "Goodnight, Maur." Maura could hear her tinkering around the room, gathering her clothes. Then,
"She left. She was just gone after…everything." The sound of the clock ticking in the center of the wall behind the man was loud, deafening. She could feel each tick in the sweat in the center of her back and she didn't dare look up.
"Have you spoken to her about it?"
Maura laughed, a tear finally breaking through, rolling down her cheek and onto her light blue dress. "No, she won't—" Maura looked back up to the clock and placed her elbow on the couch, her hand cradling her wet cheek. "She won't answer the phone." She bit her lip and stared at the notebook. "She….won't," she said softly.