A/N: just something that's been rattling around in my head for awhile now. Five short pieces from what I would like to imagine the lives of Nikki and Lorraines to be like. AU of course.
'Maybe You' is set on my other lorrikki fic.
Enjoy.
I gave you all
The rain was heavy, lashing out against the window pane, angry and upset with the glass barrier that it continued to contend with.
It was something to which Nikki could relate. Her metaphorical window the beautiful blonde she'd given her heart to, only to have that very same person build up barriers so impenetrable that it made it near impossible to break through.
She closed her eyes, and let the sound of the rain and the howling wind drown out the sound of her broken cries.
She'd given everything, tried everything, fought with everything only to have it thrown right back in her face, with no explanation, no nothing. It had been business-like, impersonal, cold.
Her chest was heavy, maybe from the crying or perhaps more to do with the fact that the woman she'd let herself love, had ripped her heart out of her chest and thrown it right back in her face.
Maybe you
The apology hangs heavy in the air, forgiveness following swiftly behind.
The question of whether or not this is a mistake is not asked until the morning, after a night spent together, naked heat remaining buried under the crumpled sheets.
This, whatever it maybe, is worth it.
This is something that, after large amounts of good sex and a great deal of talking and in-depth decision-making, both women can agree on.
Flawless
They were surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight, ghosting across the room from every available surface, a surprise dinner and a new dress, black, tight; with a low back and thin straps, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders in gentle ringlets.
A table set out with clear perfection sitting in the centre of the room, wine glasses topped up with expensive red wine, bought to complement the home cooked meal.
Plates cleared, with desert on the way, sweet nothings spoken in the soft silence suddenly becoming serious, a deliberate movement reveals a small black box, held tightly, nervously in perfectly manicured fingers, nails painted a fabulous red to match her open lips as they ask a question, desperately hoping that the answer will be a yes.
All the way
It is not expensive or at all flashy, it is instead simple and quiet, an intimate gathering with family and very close friends.
The sun is high and burning gold against their skin.
They are both beautiful, one opting to wear a pant suit, and the other a dress, both cream, both stunning.
There are smiles and there are tears and one 'about time'.
There is the exchanging of rings, it is clumsy, but the love in their eyes is eternal and strong.
There is a kiss, an interlude and then champagne followed by the traditional speeches.
They dance, they leave, they make love.
So pure
They were like a bad dance routine, falling into the bedroom with no coördination or bearing, a mass of limbs and fumbling hands.
Two people, entwined, falling disgracefully on the bed. Hot, burning kisses trailing skin, heavy breathing thickly laced with desire. A rogue tongue, an opportunity taken, wishes fulfilled.
A needleless syringe, handled with great care, its contents ejected, a prayer sent.
The concentrated silence and seriousness of the situation broken by a moan, as fingers move deftly across smooth sweat soaked skin, plunging into wet heat.
One thrust, two, a swirl of a tongue, the light grazing of teeth.
A sharp intake of breath, the tightening of muscles, contorting and spasming, as wave after wave of orgasm crashes.
Two women, entwined, their dance: freestyle.
New dawn
It was nearly over now, the pain, the exhaustion.
All of it.
No more rushed panic; torturous waiting, or the possibility of broken hands from a grip so tight that it brought tears to your eyes.
And the insults, something you really could have done without.
But none of that matters now, it's a new day; the light in the room maybe artificial, but you know the sun is rising outside.
You are happy, last night was monumental, but it doesn't compare to this moment, that first instance when you hear your new-born daughters first cries as the doctor lifts her up for the room to see.
'You did it Lorraine, I'm so proud of you baby.'
She's beautiful, she's healthy and she is more than alive.
You're crying, but so is the most beautiful woman in the world, the tears multiply as the new-born is handed over to your wife.
You're happy, completely and utterly happy, and you can't help but be proud of how far you've come, of the choices you've made, especially when the woman you love puts the small infant in your arms, you can't help by smile.
'Look what we've made Nikki, she's perfect.'
Fini.
A/N: in case any of you are wondering, So Pure is basically about artificial insemination hence the mention of the syringe. Anyways, thanks for reading :)