Title: Sweeter Than Honey
Author: VixenRaign
Rating: Juicy! *R* (some might say NC-17, but I'd like to think it's a cut above it as far as quality goes...)
Spoilers: Fried Green Tomatoes (At The Whistle Stop Café), for both the book and the movie
Note: Here Sarah, because you were the one that advised me towards the book and you and I both agreed that this story needed some FanFic to it's name. Hope you like it; 'cause it's for you!
"Sweeter Than Honey"
Whistle Stop Alabama
May 21, 1944
Ruth fell heavily onto the bed in the back room of the café. She was tired. For some reason today, walking about with plates and helping to make the pies had tired her. Maybe it was because Buddy had gone off camping with Wilbur and Dot Weems' son and she worried for him. Sure, he'd been camping before, but Idgie usually went with him. The business of her mind over her son must have taken more energy out of her than she thought. It was late, the shop was closed, and 'Railroad Bill' was probably on her way back from tossing cans off the train as she sat to catch her breath.
The warm air from the evening spring breeze came in through the open window, hitting her flyaway locks and tossing them about a bit more. Changing for bed and closing the shutter to keep the 'skeeters out, Ruth crawled under the light sheets hoping for sleep. But she couldn't seem to get her thoughts to stop racing. She thought about her time with her former husband Frank Bennett, before they'd been married. He had been so nice; a gentleman . . . but then she shivered and pulled the covers around her a little tighter, the chill down her back not from the shut window. But just as she shut her eyes to try and block out the memories she heard water in the sink running.
A few minutes later Ruth rolled onto her back, hearing bumbling foot-steps headed for the bedroom. She remembered how when she'd been with Frank how those same sounds would terrify her; now they made her angry. Idgie drunk meant she'd been down at the Wagon Wheel with the Dill Pickle Club in most cases, and that meant she'd been near Eva. Ruth didn't like Eva, and she didn't like Idgie and Eva in close quarters. It wasn't that she didn't trust Idgie with her, she just didn't trust Eva - baring a large amount of liquor and sharing it with Idgie. As she'd told her many times before; man can't live on bread alone . . . and that didn't hold strictly to men, either.
But as the door opened, and Idgie stumbled in, she saw that she wasn't drunk, but rather was stuck in the stockings she used to cover her face. They were caught in the buckle of her over-alls, and she was pulling at them oddly and they were making the legs of the pants twist oddly, tripping her. Once she'd finally wrenched them off, and she tossed them onto the small tin chair in the room, Ruth couldn't help but chuckle.
"Why is it that the only time I've seen you in stockings is when they're on your head?" The blonde just smiled and pushed off her shoulder straps, though they still caught around her waist. As the younger of the two unbuttoned her shirt Ruth looked around, pulling the blanket up to her chin again. "Idgie, what're you doing?" She asked, a little nervousness to her voice as she diverted her eyes. As Idgie pushed her over-alls all the way off, but left her open shirt on she approached the bed. Ruth looked hard at the wall. "I don't think this is such a good idea."
Idgie just chuckled, kneeling on the bed, leaning down towards her lover, meaning to kiss her. Ruth turned her head, closing her eyes, and Idgie felt her heart skip a little as it questioned itself. Taking Ruth's face in her hand the younger woman kissed the tip of her nose, and slowly the brunette opened her eyes, looking directly into the blue of Idgie's, as if asking something.
"What's wrong with tonight?" she whispered quietly to the older woman, "Stump's out in the woods with lil'Weems and won't be back 'til lunch if then . . ." She leaned in again and kissed Ruth's temple silently, "You and I haven't had an evening to ourselves in so long, 'hon . . . what's got you so scared?" As always Idgie seemed to know what was in her heart, every time. She closed her eyes and a tear quickly rolled down her cheek and onto the bed covers.
"I was just thinking about Frank." She whispered, voice scratchy from her denied tears, "I don't think . . . it wouldn't feel right." She said, eyes still closed. Idgie just smiled slightly to herself and took her lover's head into her hands, kissing her lisp so softly that it took Ruth's breath away. When she pulled back and the brunette opened her eyes, she caught a sight of what was under Idgie's open shirt, and quickly shut them again, giving a slight huff.
"Good Lord, Idgie, cain't you ever wear any damned under-garments?" If the blonde didn't know any better she would have thought this was meant to be a diversion. She just chuckled.
"You know I never do, why would I start now?" Leaning in to kiss Ruth more deeply, pushing them down onto the bed so that her back was flat to the mattress, she smiled. Ruth clenched her legs together, crossing them at the ankles under the sheets. The blonde was the one to huff this time. Falling to the side and wrapping her arms around Ruth's waist, she didn't seem happy at all. "You still not feeling good about this?" she asked, the older woman shook her head slowly. "Alright then, I'm not gonna force you." She said it caringly, though she did sound a little disappointed. At that Ruth smiled.
"I know." She stated quietly to the head resting on her shoulder, "That's why I'm here." Idgie looked up at her, slightly confused, but Ruth still just grinned. "I knew a wife would be better than a husband." She said, and Idgie smiled back slowly. They just sort of lay there, looking at each-other for a long moment, until Ruth leaned down, kissing the blonde's soft lips.
Soft lips, Ruth thought to herself, that's not like Frank. Idgie's grip tightened around her, but only enough to pull her closer, wanting as much contact between them as she could get. She's not holding me down, she told herself, that's not like Frank either. He also didn't hold her between his legs like Idgie did, or handle her breasts affectionately, or ever touch her gently like her Idgie did. He held Ruth down with a grip that left hand-print bruises; he grabbed her butt and anything else he wanted with a hateful violence; and it seemed the less she fought back the less he wanted her. This was not Frank at all she realized; this was her wife, her lover; her Bee Charmer. Idgie loved her; Frank loved hurting her.
As she let her hands grip Idgie's hips, slipping under the hanging tails of her men's shirt, she took liberties she usually didn't allow herself. Her hands wandered that smooth canvas of skin that was the blonde's strong back and then down again. They slid up the hollow of a trim stomach, hidden by those heavy men's clothes; up the ribs you count when she arched her back like that. She was beautiful under all the wool fabric and worker's cotton, but it was a fact she rarely would admit to herself. It wasn't the way a woman should think of another naked woman. It just wasn't Christian.
But it was true. The soft, pale pink skin, rarely exposed to the sun or to her lover, felt like perfection under Ruth's delicate fingers. But she didn't feel it was wrong to call her wife beautiful, she rationalize when she had to. She's one of the most beautiful souls I've met, and that wonder she possesses on the inside can't help but shine out and make all of her beautiful, and anyone who doesn't notice it - man or woman - is a damn fool. As she felt the sheet between them lifted away, however, she became nervous again. What if I'm not beautiful to her, she wondered suddenly - as she always did right about now.
But with the look on Idgie's face, and the smile that broke out across her lips as she looked at Ruth's body in her thin floral nightgown, she was far less worried. The younger woman leaned down and started kissing Ruth's neck, grinning all the while as her fingers slowly pulled the end of her wife's gown. As her fingers crept up her lover's legs, once covered in bruises and scratch marks from men's manicured nails, she skated along them light as a feather. When her fingers reached that treasured junction of brown curls, smelling sweet as the spring breeze that followed her home, her heart skipped again, but this time from excitement.
"I love you, Baby." Idgie whispered, kissing her wife's lips again, "You're too good to me." Ruth's back arched and her breath hitched as Idgie slipped into her, slow and gentle as always; but still it hurt. In her mind it hurt, though the tender flesh stroked by her lover danced with pleasure. She was deliberate, methodical, always sensitive and loving, kissing her partner's lips and breathless herself. But as her breath continued to hitch with each stroke, and her eyes remained tightly shut, Idgie gave up and removed her glistening fingers. This always happened, but she always tried.
"I'm sorry, 'hon." Ruth whispered, shaking slightly, "I can't help it." Idgie nodded, her quick and silent breaths warming her wife's neck as her hands continued to rove along the tender flesh of her lover's sex. "Mmmmmm" She moaned deeply in her throat, enjoying this form of loving far better than any others she'd come to know. Idgie knew it too, but there was just something about being inside her lover, the most intimate and scarred place on her body. She wanted to wipe away all the bad memories, take away all the pain not yet healed, show her that she wasn't anything like that dirty bastard Frank.
That's not to say she wasn't thankful for having made it this far. The first time they'd been intimate was the spring before her mother had died and Stump was already two-years-old. They'd been sharing a bed since Ruth's return to Whistle Stop, it seemed, but she was still so scared then. Every kiss was another milestone, ever touch and hug was like climbing another mountain; and it's been hard! Idgie loved Ruth, wanted her like nothing she could ever remember wanting in her life, and being young and stupid as she often was then . . . she knew it was because she loved the woman so much. Nothing else could've had such an effect on her short patience.
As she felt Ruth's breathing hitch again, each one shorter than the last, her legs shaking underneath her, Idgie felt her own sex twinge with need. But she ignored it, it could wait, it would have to wait. As the older woman hit her crest and her whole body tightened with release, Ruth let out a strangled yelp of pleasure, as unbridled as she let herself be, digging her nails into the blonde's hips. After a few second her body relaxed, slowly sliding back down onto the bed where it'd arched, and her breath coming out in one long, deep, and wavering release.
"Mmmm, Idgie," She moaned tiredly, wrapping her arms languidly around her lover's hips, "Sometimes I love the things you talk me into." They both laughed a little, and the younger woman leaned down to kiss Ruth's cheeks repeatedly.
"I don't seem to recall much talking, Ms. Jamison." She said lovingly, feeling her arousal die down with their slow affection. Watching her lover's own act of satisfaction provided her with a pleasure in and of it's self. But that always seems to happen; she thought to herself, she's a giver even when she doesn't know it. She smiled into her kisses, laying between Ruth's legs, enjoying the feel of their sexes pressed together. Ruth chuckled deep in her throat, her lethargic nature affecting her tone.
"You're still one hell of a Bee Charmer, Idgie," she said, sighing and finally looking up at the face so close to hers, "and I love you for it." The blonde grinned and snaked her arms around her lover's neck.
"Well," she said to her quietly, "You're still my favorite Bee." Ruth smiled back, but it faded slowly as she opened her eyes to look at Idgie a little more sternly.
"You're favorite Bee?" she asked slowly and carefully, "I hope you meant to say your only Bee." It was a warning, and Idgie was reading it loud and clear.
"Yes, my only Bee; don't worry." She kissed Ruth's eyes closed, but she still didn't seem entirely convinced. "No one has ever seen me charm a hive like you have, Baby. . ." she kissed her lips slowly, "'Cause no one's Honey is as sweet as yours." Ruth giggled a little at that, but looked up at her blonde companion with an expression of many layers. It was curious, but cautious; like she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. And questioning; she knew how well Idgie could lie, she'd practiced enough.
"Do you ever miss her?" she asked slowly. Idgie just stared back at her, silent for a moment. Ruth took it as confusion. "Eva, I mean, do you - "
"Yes." She interrupted, "I know what you mean. And . . . some times." She said quietly, voice a little hurt, like her heart wanted her to cry but her hatred of all things 'girly' forcing an even voice. "But not in ways you'd think."
"How?" Ruth questioned, caring but unsure if she wanted to hear this.
"Well, she was my friend." She said, all too expressionlessly, "She was the only friend I had while you were gone . . . she kept me up while I was down; looked out for me in ways no one had since Buddy. Made me feel wanted when . . . I felt so discarded." At that Ruth looked away guiltily, but Idgie turned her face back, smiling sadly, "But I don't ever want you to be jealous of her. She wanted Buddy, and instead she had me. I wanted you and I got her because she was just about all I could have. Did I love her? In a way, I guess you could call it love; about as much you can love a friend." She said it firmly, but not forcefully, much like her lessons to Buddy Jr.
"I have never, and will never, love anyone like I have loved you; Ruth. Always remember that, because I know I could never forget it even if I lived to be a'hundred." She might not have wanted to cry, but her lover could see tears willing in her eyes, "I'm with you because you're the one I want, the only one I want. I'm not looking for what's easy, or what's cheap. I've wanted you since before I knew I could have you." She gave a wet chuckle, her eyes damp, "You remember? Doing anything you asked, following you around . . . breaking windows screaming about how I loved you." Ruth smiled and nodded.
"I remember, Idgie." She whispered, pushing the unruly blonde hairs behind those cute round ears. "I thought you were so sweet, always trying to act the gentlemen . . . took some time for me to get used to it, though." The younger girl's lopsided grin gave away her embarrassment. "But after a while . . . I started needing you, wanting that love you had for me so badly . . . It scared me. And I've never been the brave one when it comes to love, Idgie you know that, that's why I left . . . but I could never deny you anything." She said, blushing a little, "So no matter where I go; I will always come back to you."
"I love you so much." Idgie mumbled, leaning in to her lover again, pulling her close, kissing her deeply. She felt Ruth wrap her legs around her a little, and Idgie felt like she was sinking into her lover, and for a split second she felt like she was there; like some how she'd found a way into that place she wanted so badly to be. And she realized: she touched a place in Ruth that Frank had never even come close to, and she'd filled it with hope, and love, and even a little bit of mystery. Pausing to catch her breath, feeling suddenly light-headed, she heard Ruth whisper.
"And you're sweeter than Honey."
.
.The End.
~VixenRaign~
Author: VixenRaign
Rating: Juicy! *R* (some might say NC-17, but I'd like to think it's a cut above it as far as quality goes...)
Spoilers: Fried Green Tomatoes (At The Whistle Stop Café), for both the book and the movie
Note: Here Sarah, because you were the one that advised me towards the book and you and I both agreed that this story needed some FanFic to it's name. Hope you like it; 'cause it's for you!
"Sweeter Than Honey"
Whistle Stop Alabama
May 21, 1944
Ruth fell heavily onto the bed in the back room of the café. She was tired. For some reason today, walking about with plates and helping to make the pies had tired her. Maybe it was because Buddy had gone off camping with Wilbur and Dot Weems' son and she worried for him. Sure, he'd been camping before, but Idgie usually went with him. The business of her mind over her son must have taken more energy out of her than she thought. It was late, the shop was closed, and 'Railroad Bill' was probably on her way back from tossing cans off the train as she sat to catch her breath.
The warm air from the evening spring breeze came in through the open window, hitting her flyaway locks and tossing them about a bit more. Changing for bed and closing the shutter to keep the 'skeeters out, Ruth crawled under the light sheets hoping for sleep. But she couldn't seem to get her thoughts to stop racing. She thought about her time with her former husband Frank Bennett, before they'd been married. He had been so nice; a gentleman . . . but then she shivered and pulled the covers around her a little tighter, the chill down her back not from the shut window. But just as she shut her eyes to try and block out the memories she heard water in the sink running.
A few minutes later Ruth rolled onto her back, hearing bumbling foot-steps headed for the bedroom. She remembered how when she'd been with Frank how those same sounds would terrify her; now they made her angry. Idgie drunk meant she'd been down at the Wagon Wheel with the Dill Pickle Club in most cases, and that meant she'd been near Eva. Ruth didn't like Eva, and she didn't like Idgie and Eva in close quarters. It wasn't that she didn't trust Idgie with her, she just didn't trust Eva - baring a large amount of liquor and sharing it with Idgie. As she'd told her many times before; man can't live on bread alone . . . and that didn't hold strictly to men, either.
But as the door opened, and Idgie stumbled in, she saw that she wasn't drunk, but rather was stuck in the stockings she used to cover her face. They were caught in the buckle of her over-alls, and she was pulling at them oddly and they were making the legs of the pants twist oddly, tripping her. Once she'd finally wrenched them off, and she tossed them onto the small tin chair in the room, Ruth couldn't help but chuckle.
"Why is it that the only time I've seen you in stockings is when they're on your head?" The blonde just smiled and pushed off her shoulder straps, though they still caught around her waist. As the younger of the two unbuttoned her shirt Ruth looked around, pulling the blanket up to her chin again. "Idgie, what're you doing?" She asked, a little nervousness to her voice as she diverted her eyes. As Idgie pushed her over-alls all the way off, but left her open shirt on she approached the bed. Ruth looked hard at the wall. "I don't think this is such a good idea."
Idgie just chuckled, kneeling on the bed, leaning down towards her lover, meaning to kiss her. Ruth turned her head, closing her eyes, and Idgie felt her heart skip a little as it questioned itself. Taking Ruth's face in her hand the younger woman kissed the tip of her nose, and slowly the brunette opened her eyes, looking directly into the blue of Idgie's, as if asking something.
"What's wrong with tonight?" she whispered quietly to the older woman, "Stump's out in the woods with lil'Weems and won't be back 'til lunch if then . . ." She leaned in again and kissed Ruth's temple silently, "You and I haven't had an evening to ourselves in so long, 'hon . . . what's got you so scared?" As always Idgie seemed to know what was in her heart, every time. She closed her eyes and a tear quickly rolled down her cheek and onto the bed covers.
"I was just thinking about Frank." She whispered, voice scratchy from her denied tears, "I don't think . . . it wouldn't feel right." She said, eyes still closed. Idgie just smiled slightly to herself and took her lover's head into her hands, kissing her lisp so softly that it took Ruth's breath away. When she pulled back and the brunette opened her eyes, she caught a sight of what was under Idgie's open shirt, and quickly shut them again, giving a slight huff.
"Good Lord, Idgie, cain't you ever wear any damned under-garments?" If the blonde didn't know any better she would have thought this was meant to be a diversion. She just chuckled.
"You know I never do, why would I start now?" Leaning in to kiss Ruth more deeply, pushing them down onto the bed so that her back was flat to the mattress, she smiled. Ruth clenched her legs together, crossing them at the ankles under the sheets. The blonde was the one to huff this time. Falling to the side and wrapping her arms around Ruth's waist, she didn't seem happy at all. "You still not feeling good about this?" she asked, the older woman shook her head slowly. "Alright then, I'm not gonna force you." She said it caringly, though she did sound a little disappointed. At that Ruth smiled.
"I know." She stated quietly to the head resting on her shoulder, "That's why I'm here." Idgie looked up at her, slightly confused, but Ruth still just grinned. "I knew a wife would be better than a husband." She said, and Idgie smiled back slowly. They just sort of lay there, looking at each-other for a long moment, until Ruth leaned down, kissing the blonde's soft lips.
Soft lips, Ruth thought to herself, that's not like Frank. Idgie's grip tightened around her, but only enough to pull her closer, wanting as much contact between them as she could get. She's not holding me down, she told herself, that's not like Frank either. He also didn't hold her between his legs like Idgie did, or handle her breasts affectionately, or ever touch her gently like her Idgie did. He held Ruth down with a grip that left hand-print bruises; he grabbed her butt and anything else he wanted with a hateful violence; and it seemed the less she fought back the less he wanted her. This was not Frank at all she realized; this was her wife, her lover; her Bee Charmer. Idgie loved her; Frank loved hurting her.
As she let her hands grip Idgie's hips, slipping under the hanging tails of her men's shirt, she took liberties she usually didn't allow herself. Her hands wandered that smooth canvas of skin that was the blonde's strong back and then down again. They slid up the hollow of a trim stomach, hidden by those heavy men's clothes; up the ribs you count when she arched her back like that. She was beautiful under all the wool fabric and worker's cotton, but it was a fact she rarely would admit to herself. It wasn't the way a woman should think of another naked woman. It just wasn't Christian.
But it was true. The soft, pale pink skin, rarely exposed to the sun or to her lover, felt like perfection under Ruth's delicate fingers. But she didn't feel it was wrong to call her wife beautiful, she rationalize when she had to. She's one of the most beautiful souls I've met, and that wonder she possesses on the inside can't help but shine out and make all of her beautiful, and anyone who doesn't notice it - man or woman - is a damn fool. As she felt the sheet between them lifted away, however, she became nervous again. What if I'm not beautiful to her, she wondered suddenly - as she always did right about now.
But with the look on Idgie's face, and the smile that broke out across her lips as she looked at Ruth's body in her thin floral nightgown, she was far less worried. The younger woman leaned down and started kissing Ruth's neck, grinning all the while as her fingers slowly pulled the end of her wife's gown. As her fingers crept up her lover's legs, once covered in bruises and scratch marks from men's manicured nails, she skated along them light as a feather. When her fingers reached that treasured junction of brown curls, smelling sweet as the spring breeze that followed her home, her heart skipped again, but this time from excitement.
"I love you, Baby." Idgie whispered, kissing her wife's lips again, "You're too good to me." Ruth's back arched and her breath hitched as Idgie slipped into her, slow and gentle as always; but still it hurt. In her mind it hurt, though the tender flesh stroked by her lover danced with pleasure. She was deliberate, methodical, always sensitive and loving, kissing her partner's lips and breathless herself. But as her breath continued to hitch with each stroke, and her eyes remained tightly shut, Idgie gave up and removed her glistening fingers. This always happened, but she always tried.
"I'm sorry, 'hon." Ruth whispered, shaking slightly, "I can't help it." Idgie nodded, her quick and silent breaths warming her wife's neck as her hands continued to rove along the tender flesh of her lover's sex. "Mmmmmm" She moaned deeply in her throat, enjoying this form of loving far better than any others she'd come to know. Idgie knew it too, but there was just something about being inside her lover, the most intimate and scarred place on her body. She wanted to wipe away all the bad memories, take away all the pain not yet healed, show her that she wasn't anything like that dirty bastard Frank.
That's not to say she wasn't thankful for having made it this far. The first time they'd been intimate was the spring before her mother had died and Stump was already two-years-old. They'd been sharing a bed since Ruth's return to Whistle Stop, it seemed, but she was still so scared then. Every kiss was another milestone, ever touch and hug was like climbing another mountain; and it's been hard! Idgie loved Ruth, wanted her like nothing she could ever remember wanting in her life, and being young and stupid as she often was then . . . she knew it was because she loved the woman so much. Nothing else could've had such an effect on her short patience.
As she felt Ruth's breathing hitch again, each one shorter than the last, her legs shaking underneath her, Idgie felt her own sex twinge with need. But she ignored it, it could wait, it would have to wait. As the older woman hit her crest and her whole body tightened with release, Ruth let out a strangled yelp of pleasure, as unbridled as she let herself be, digging her nails into the blonde's hips. After a few second her body relaxed, slowly sliding back down onto the bed where it'd arched, and her breath coming out in one long, deep, and wavering release.
"Mmmm, Idgie," She moaned tiredly, wrapping her arms languidly around her lover's hips, "Sometimes I love the things you talk me into." They both laughed a little, and the younger woman leaned down to kiss Ruth's cheeks repeatedly.
"I don't seem to recall much talking, Ms. Jamison." She said lovingly, feeling her arousal die down with their slow affection. Watching her lover's own act of satisfaction provided her with a pleasure in and of it's self. But that always seems to happen; she thought to herself, she's a giver even when she doesn't know it. She smiled into her kisses, laying between Ruth's legs, enjoying the feel of their sexes pressed together. Ruth chuckled deep in her throat, her lethargic nature affecting her tone.
"You're still one hell of a Bee Charmer, Idgie," she said, sighing and finally looking up at the face so close to hers, "and I love you for it." The blonde grinned and snaked her arms around her lover's neck.
"Well," she said to her quietly, "You're still my favorite Bee." Ruth smiled back, but it faded slowly as she opened her eyes to look at Idgie a little more sternly.
"You're favorite Bee?" she asked slowly and carefully, "I hope you meant to say your only Bee." It was a warning, and Idgie was reading it loud and clear.
"Yes, my only Bee; don't worry." She kissed Ruth's eyes closed, but she still didn't seem entirely convinced. "No one has ever seen me charm a hive like you have, Baby. . ." she kissed her lips slowly, "'Cause no one's Honey is as sweet as yours." Ruth giggled a little at that, but looked up at her blonde companion with an expression of many layers. It was curious, but cautious; like she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. And questioning; she knew how well Idgie could lie, she'd practiced enough.
"Do you ever miss her?" she asked slowly. Idgie just stared back at her, silent for a moment. Ruth took it as confusion. "Eva, I mean, do you - "
"Yes." She interrupted, "I know what you mean. And . . . some times." She said quietly, voice a little hurt, like her heart wanted her to cry but her hatred of all things 'girly' forcing an even voice. "But not in ways you'd think."
"How?" Ruth questioned, caring but unsure if she wanted to hear this.
"Well, she was my friend." She said, all too expressionlessly, "She was the only friend I had while you were gone . . . she kept me up while I was down; looked out for me in ways no one had since Buddy. Made me feel wanted when . . . I felt so discarded." At that Ruth looked away guiltily, but Idgie turned her face back, smiling sadly, "But I don't ever want you to be jealous of her. She wanted Buddy, and instead she had me. I wanted you and I got her because she was just about all I could have. Did I love her? In a way, I guess you could call it love; about as much you can love a friend." She said it firmly, but not forcefully, much like her lessons to Buddy Jr.
"I have never, and will never, love anyone like I have loved you; Ruth. Always remember that, because I know I could never forget it even if I lived to be a'hundred." She might not have wanted to cry, but her lover could see tears willing in her eyes, "I'm with you because you're the one I want, the only one I want. I'm not looking for what's easy, or what's cheap. I've wanted you since before I knew I could have you." She gave a wet chuckle, her eyes damp, "You remember? Doing anything you asked, following you around . . . breaking windows screaming about how I loved you." Ruth smiled and nodded.
"I remember, Idgie." She whispered, pushing the unruly blonde hairs behind those cute round ears. "I thought you were so sweet, always trying to act the gentlemen . . . took some time for me to get used to it, though." The younger girl's lopsided grin gave away her embarrassment. "But after a while . . . I started needing you, wanting that love you had for me so badly . . . It scared me. And I've never been the brave one when it comes to love, Idgie you know that, that's why I left . . . but I could never deny you anything." She said, blushing a little, "So no matter where I go; I will always come back to you."
"I love you so much." Idgie mumbled, leaning in to her lover again, pulling her close, kissing her deeply. She felt Ruth wrap her legs around her a little, and Idgie felt like she was sinking into her lover, and for a split second she felt like she was there; like some how she'd found a way into that place she wanted so badly to be. And she realized: she touched a place in Ruth that Frank had never even come close to, and she'd filled it with hope, and love, and even a little bit of mystery. Pausing to catch her breath, feeling suddenly light-headed, she heard Ruth whisper.
"And you're sweeter than Honey."
.
.The End.
~VixenRaign~