Disclaimer: characters and poem not mine, but I hope you enjoy regardless.
Two bodies face to face
Are at times two roots
Laced into the night.
If time was the great architect of the earth, then light was her artist, and water the medium for both. These thoughts flurried through Ami's mind as she lie awake on the floor of the marbled cave, vaguely wondering why she wasn't asleep. The answer, it would seem, was dancing in the corner of her eye. Perhaps it was a chink in the fortress of stone surrounding her, or a masterfully placed window, but somehow a beam of moonlight pierced the darkness of this little hollow in the earth, a pool of water letting it bathe the walls in a subtle duet of light and dark.
It may not have been a place of stillness, but the cavern she and Makoto shared for the night was certainly quiet. Ami felt, rather than heard the steady trickle of water that fed the small pool, felt it seep down further into the earth, navigating the cracks and fissures before free falling through empty space. And hardly a noise escaped from the woman next to her who lay sprawled out in an easy sleep, one arm carelessly flung above her head and the other resting with her fingers splayed across her stomach.
Ami stretched her hand through the half darkness and rested it on top of Makoto's while the shifting light crept down the walls and enveloped the two of them in their silent motion. She watched it dance along Makoto's bare, tanned skin, watched it trip over the lines of old scars, and shape itself around the strong lines of Makoto's muscled limbs. The light washed back and forth, and like the ceaseless ocean against rocky headland, it began erasing the hard planes of Makoto's body.
Mesmerized by the patterns of light and shadow playing across Makoto's skin, Ami began trailing them with her fingers, outlining the shape of Makoto's hand beneath her own, moving up her stomach and around the curve of her breast, along the inside of her arm and up to the crook of her elbow. Traces of pale blue remained in the wake of her touch, but perhaps it was only in her mind's eye that she could see the imprint of her energy, and the slight green of Makoto's lingering on her fingertips.
Ami finished her trail to Makoto's open palm, her fingers tracing the lines there that were cast in sharp relief. Life line to heart, and head line to fate. Broken and deep, these lines were all that remained of a past she finally relinquished to a crystal tomb. She continued to trace these lines and more, linking them together and smoothing them out, when Makoto's hand closed around her own. Ami looked up from the map she'd been studying to find herself under the slightly unfocused gaze of green eyes and a sleepy smile. Light began to withdraw from the cavern, the moon slipping past whatever window had let it in and continuing its trek through the night.
Ami returned the smile in the failing light, and met Makoto's lips with a soft, lingering kiss. When Ami pulled away, night had enclosed them in the close fabric of absolute darkness. She was taken aback by how much her perceptions shifted when one sense was taken away, how much her sight could be replaced by something else. Touch—the places where her and Makoto's bodies met—she was suddenly aware of nothing else. Only the way Makoto's leg wound around hers registered now, and the hand at her back that held them together, stomach against stomach, breast to breast. Of her own hands, one was still laced with Makoto's, and with the other she now sought out Makoto's ear, soft between her finger and thumb, tracing it up and weaving her hand through the sweep of Makoto's thick hair.
Touch. She wanted more. Ami lowered her lips once again to Makoto's, turning her head just slightly so that the corners of their mouths brushed. When she kept going, brushing her lips along the edge of her jaw, Makoto brought up her free hand to her face, questioning.
Ami held her hand there and whispered in her ear. "I just want to feel you." She turned her head into Makoto's hand and there began tracing her lips once more, across her wrist and through her arm. She followed the line of her collarbone, noting the difference between skin over muscle and skin over bone. She continued down, over the top of Makoto's breast, pausing momentarily to marvel at the feel of her nipple hardening against her lips. When Ami moved on it was with slight reluctance. But then she stumbled, her lips tripping, just as the light did over an imperfection in the skin. Even darkness couldn't hide this scar, a scar that was Ami's also. Long and thin, extending from a point just beneath her left breast down to the edge of her hip, it's presence was in reality a miracle, for the wound it covered should have meant defeat.
Ami pushed through the hesitance and followed the old wound, kissing the point where it started and following the neat raised line of tissue as it traveled along her body. She was stopped, however, when Makoto again brought her palm to rest against her face. She tugged under Ami's chin and she obliged, sliding back up so they were again face to face in the darkness.
"Let's not linger there," she whispered, tucking unseen locks of hair behind Ami's ear. "Let me hold you."
Ami nodded and kissed Makoto's cheek. She shifted her position so that she lay more comfortably against her, her leg draped across Makoto's middle, and her head nestled in the hollow beneath her neck. She rested her hand on her chest, feeling the steady rhythm, and Makoto enclosed her in the circle of her arms. The two of them rose and fell with one breath, and night breathed with them.