Chapter 52
A BLADE OF GRASS
DIANA
Modern Psychology, 9th ed.
Diana stared at the textbook that lay on the floor next to her bed. It was brand new, though the corner of the cover and the pages were stained and softened from some liquid being spilled on it at some point. It wasn't hers, obviously, as the only Psychology class she had taken was a Gen Ed in the first semester of her freshman year. Besides, she most certainly wouldn't leave such an expensive textbook lying on the ground and even more than that she would never spill liquid on any piece of literature.
She knew immediately whose it was.
It must have fallen out of Akko's bag when she'd left early that morning to get ready for Scotland. Diana picked up the textbook and sat at the edge of her bed, the pads of her fingers running slowly over the slightly bent edges of the cover, over the thin pages that were stained and swollen at the top.
There was a single page marked with what looked like a price tag from new clothing. Curious, Diana thumbed the text open, listening to the hardened, stained pages crinkle as they separated. Akko clearly hadn't opened this book in quite some time. That much was evident.
The page that fell open was covered in doodles, in Akko's loopy, girly handwriting, in phrases highlighted in bright pink. On the right side was a large triangle in which Akko had drawn a slightly off-kilter arrow pointing to the center words:
CONSUMMATE
At first Diana wanted to scold Akko for writing in her textbook. After all, it was borrowed property from Luna Nova, and a brand new edition at that. The girl would likely be charged for the condition she returned the book in. She was about to close the book to put in her bag when her eyes caught the first line of highlighted text.
STERNBERG'S TRIANGULAR THEORY OF LOVE
Psychology did not interest Diana. She cared little about the minds of people and much less about outdated theories of behavioral science that had since been disproven. But Akko had this page marked, had highlighted extensively, had scribbled in the margins words and thoughts, and so her curiosity got the best of her and she started reading.
The three components of love, according to Sternberg's triangular theory, are as follows: intimacy, passion, and decision/commitment.
Akko had highlighted key phrases:
Passion- with a check mark.
physical arousal
emotional stimulation
strong romantic feeling for someone
Intimacy- with a check mark.
Feelings of closeness and attachment
At ease
Personal and private bond
Commitment- with a check mark.
Conscious decision to stick with one another
Loyalty
Work hard for mutual benefits
The strength of the bond and amount of love depends these three factors. As such, these components are necessary for a relationship to develop sustainable love.
Akko had scrawled on the side of the page: we are sustainable
While consummate love is one of the most difficult types of loves to maintain and derives from each partner working to actively embody the three components of love. Couples exhibiting this type of love are able to overcome hardships and obstacles throughout their relationship, given that passion, intimacy, and commitment outweigh the alternative options.
And beneath everything, in a bit of blank space at the bottom of the page, Akko had written:
I love her
Diana blinked. Narrowed her eyes. Her finger trailed over the other girl's neat handwriting as she glanced up, peered through the window that overlooked Luna Nova grounds that were brown and damp with winter. Her mind traveled to the hidden grove that they'd spent the day in. To Akko sitting close at her side, to the comforting sound of rustling water and the content snorts of Beatrix as she grazed. Akko had been buried deep in a textbook and was writing something in it—Diana had assumed doodling, at the time—to which Diana had scolded:
"You shouldn't be drawing in a textbook."
Akko had lifted her gaze and narrowed her bright red eyes. "Why?" she'd asked, followed by, "It's my book, anyway. And, besides, I'm not drawing in it."
"Then what are you doing?" Diana remembered that she had leaned over, shuddering at the feeling of her own shoulder pressing against Akko's as she'd tried to see what the other girl was doing.
Akko had frowned and pulled the book away, shielding it by closing the cover over the back of her hand. "It's private," she'd murmured, her cheeks turning the color of a rose as she looked down. "I'm just, uh, studying. Writing thoughts while I read, you know?"
Diana had rolled her eyes because, at the time, she'd thought that Akko was simply embarrassed about being caught doodling in her textbook. She had gone back to studying her own material—Equine Nutrition, she recalled effortlessly—when the feeling of Akko's eyes on her tugged her attention away once more.
Akko's hand had frozen inside the partially open book, her pen limp in her hand but still resting against the waxed pages. Diana had glanced at the cover.
Modern Psychology, 9th ed.
The brunette's crimson eyes were locked on the side of Diana's face and, as their eyes met, they softened in a way that Diana had never seen. There was something deeper within that stare, something behind the flickering eyes that seemed to burn into Diana's. One of Akko's hands had fallen from her book, her fingers reaching across the blanket to float over Diana's hand with a ghost of a touch that made her shudder.
Akko's lips had parted slightly, almost as though she wanted to say something, but instead she had taken Diana's hand into her own and squeezed and Diana had squeezed back, confused, and asked, "Is everything alright, Akko?"
Akko had taken a moment to reply. She'd drawn her lips into a thin line that, after a moment, tilted into a smile that was almost like a sigh, if it could be described as that, because every muscle in her face seemed to relax as her eyes held Diana's.
"Yes," she'd said, a breath of a whisper. "Everything is perfect."
Diana had nodded in acknowledgment, had offered her own small smile before returning to her studies, before going back to enjoying the sounds of birds singing in the branches above and grass ripping between Beatrix's teeth. Back to the comfort and warmth of the girl next to her, who had quietly returned to whatever she had been doing moments before.
But, now, as she turned to look back at the open book in her arms, at the scrawl of words alongside text, at the tiny blade of grass that was stuck in the spine and had left a streak of green in the pages, Diana realized that a moment she had deemed insignificant had been so much more.
And, for once, Akko had not acted on impulse. No, she had reasoned—with herself, with the knowledge that was presented with her—and had come to a decision based on the sum of her thoughts.
For some reason, it meant more to Diana. It meant more that Akko had analyzed, had considered the options and the circumstances surrounding them and a relationship that Diana had attempted to self-sabotage. It meant more to her that Akko had chosen her—a choice that could have been made in an entirely different direction—and had kept it to herself until Diana was ready.
The small bit of grass shouldn't have meant much. It just so happened to get stuck there and Akko either hadn't noticed or hadn't cared. And Diana wasn't the type to get sentimental. She wasn't the type to keep objects, especially something so degradable and seemingly pointless, but as she ran her fingers over Akko's handwriting, she felt her hand traveling, felt her breath lodging in her throat.
Diana plucked the blade of grass out from Akko's textbook, ran it gently between her fingers. She opened the small leather-bound journal she kept beside her lamp and slid the grass inside, nestling it between her last entry and the next blank page before picking up her own fountain pen. In her own tidy, slightly tilted penmanship, she scrawled three words in the middle of the page:
I love her.
Chloe 10:15
Be there in 5
The navy gown she had chosen for the gala was still hanging on the back of her closet door, altered and ready for an occasion that she would not be attending. Diana's gaze ran over the pattern of lace at the waist, at the soft material that had been set to drape against her skin that evening, and sighed at the very thought of what she was doing. It was not like her to skip such an important event, especially one in which she was receiving the top honors, but it was a choice she had made after weighing her options and a choice that had, unfortunately, come with consequences.
"You will be riding without stirrups for the next month," Miss Meridies had hissed. The taller woman had risen from behind her desk, her thin lips set into a stern frown as she eyed Diana as though her student was nothing more than manure stuck to the bottom of freshly polished boots. "And I will certainly not be making any excuses for you when anyone asks where you are. This is not like you, Diana. You know the importance of this gala to Luna Nova—"
Diana had squeezed her eyes shut and taken a deep breath before interjecting. "I am aware," she said, unwilling to let her instructor continue in her rant. Miss Meridies would simply spiral until she came up with more punishments if she was given the opportunity. "And I understand that my decision will affect the evening. My aunt will be accepting the reward in my place."
Her conversation with Aunt Daryl had been much easier than the one with Miss Meridies. After all, it came easy for her former guardian to accept the victories of others, especially Diana. She hadn't even asked for an excuse, not like Miss Meridies, whose intensity ran amok when she was angry—
"And why, may I ask," Miss Meridies pressed her hand to her forehead as though she had a severe headache, "have you and Miss England decided to miss an occasion such as this? Please, humor me as to what could possibly be more important than accepting the top award in the name of your university?"
It was a question Diana knew would come, a question in which responses had skipped through her brain for the better part of the week. In all honesty, there was little that Miss Meridies would have accepted as more important than the award ceremony. A death in the nuclear family, perhaps, though Diana had no siblings nor parents that could even pass. What could she possibly say besides the truth—the truth being Akko Kagari.
After all, Diana had done a poor job thus far of showing Akko just how important she was. It was time for her to step up, time for her to show her girlfriend that she was willing to make sacrifices, that she was capable of putting the other girl first instead of considering only her own feelings.
"The International Mounted Games competition is this weekend," Diana said, tilting her chin up a bit for emphasis as she gazed into her instructor's piercing eyes. "Akko has chosen to ride and I'd like to be there to support her. Hannah is attending as well to watch Amanda."
Diana had expected to be scolded, had expected to receive a rush of reasons as to why she was shirking her responsibilities in favor of attending a sports competition that she wasn't even a member of. But as she stood, awaiting the onslaught of scolding that she had anticipated, the seconds slowly ticked away and there was still… nothing.
Miss Meridies let out a long, audible sigh. She lowered her hand to her desk, her index finger tracing over a bit of dust that had gathered next to her calendar, and the anger and disappointment in her eyes slowly fell away to understanding.
"I see." Her voice was lower, softer. Diana watched her gaze trail to a framed picture on the corner of her desk: Miss Callistis, the famed Chariot du Nord, soaring over a massive triple bar on the lean and modest Shiny Rod. "You must think very highly of Miss Kagari if you're willing to step away from an important evening of your own in exchange for watching her."
Diana rolled her jaw and nodded. She was quite sure Miss Meridies knew that she and Akko were a couple—after all, they hadn't exactly been discreet about it—though she wasn't about to point that fact out to her elder. She said nothing, choosing instead to fold her hands behind her back and wait.
"Well." A forced half-smile tugged at the older woman's pale lips. "You are an adult and are fully capable of making your own decisions." She lifted her gaze, met Diana's eyes once more. "And I trust that both you and Miss England have given this quite some thought. Safe travels, then."
"Thank you."
Miss Meridies had turned away, her attention switched to the spring show schedule that adorned the wall behind her desk. A hint to leave, which Diana graciously took, though before she stepped from the office, her instructor added one final comment:
"Give Miss Kagari my best," she had said. "And best of luck to the team."
Diana had thought that she might second guess her decision, that she might regret choosing Akko over the Hunter/Jumper gala. But she didn't. Not in the least. No, her mind was set, and all she could think about was getting to Akko, was being there for the person that meant the most to her.
"Diana! Your ex-cunt is here!" Barbara's voice shrilled from downstairs.
With a final glance at the dress, Diana tossed her canvas overnight bag over her shoulder and gently closed the door to her room behind her. "She may be that," she grumbled as she walked down the stairs, "though she is doing quite the favor for Hannah and I, so I would prefer it if you simply called her Chloe."
"Yeah, yeah," Barbara mumbled, sinking back into the sofa and thumbing the page of one of her romance novels. "Whatever you say. Hannah! Hurry up. Your hair looks fine and six outfits is plenty for two days!"
Hannah grunted as she threw her bedroom door open, lugging a large suitcase behind her as she grunted an acknowledgment at Barbara. "You know I like to have options," she said, leveling her black-haired roommate with a pointed glare. "And you're one to talk. You over pack way more than me. Wait—is that what you're wearing?"
It took a moment for Diana to realize Hannah was speaking to her. She blinked, glancing down at her own attire: her baggy grey sweatpants, an old 2014 Hunter/Jumper Championship t-shirt that showed through her unzipped jacket. It was out of the ordinary, sure, but she didn't see any point in wearing nice clothing for a long, chartered flight to Scotland.
Akko was rubbing off on her. That much was certain.
"I'm not trying to impress anybody," Diana stated, straightening her back with an air of dignity and brushing her hair behind her ear. "Besides, it's a long flight."
"It's an hour and a half," Hannah countered. "You're just trying to look like someone pulled you out of the bin because it's Chloe."
"I am not—" Diana sucked in air and turned away, determined not to amuse Hannah any further than her auburn-haired friend already was. "Sod off, Han. I can wear what I please. We're flying, not putting on a show for some wealthy politicians."
A second knock followed the first: delicate, tentative, and familiar in a way that Diana had come to recognize in the years of Chloe's sporadic arrivals.
"It'll be fine," Diana reassured, placing a hand on Diana's shoulder and offering a small squeeze. "She's doing you a huge favor. If there was bad blood, she would have refused."
"It's still…" Diana eyed the door, her hand frozen mid-reach as she searched her mind for the appropriate word. Awkward? Well, yes, obviously. It was her ex-girlfriend, someone who she had spent the better part of eight months caught in the midst of unwanted drama. Scary? Well, no, not really. Not upsetting, either. It was more…
"Unpredictable," Diana finished. And, without another word—because it would have been highly inappropriate to keep Chloe waiting any longer—she seized the door handle and tugged it open.
She hadn't known what to expect, really. Before, there'd been a variety of emotions she'd been unable to control. Sadness had been the first, followed closely be anger, resentment, and ultimately guilt—for what, she didn't quite know, but it was there all the same. Then came the anxiety, the dread, the stress. And, when Akko had come along, the annoyance coupled with the fear of the unexpected. The fear of retaliation.
But, now, as the door opened and the familiar girl stood on her threshold, straightened brown hair falling in silken waves over one shoulder in a way that used to make Diana want to run her fingers through it. With glimmering brown eyes filled with warmth instead of malice, eyes that Diana had once found herself lost in. With full lips that once begged to be kissed, lips that Diana had found irresistible at best. She had expected to feel a variety of things, though when the moment ultimately came, she felt…
Nothing.
The girl before her drew no emotion. She was nothing more than a placeholder of someone who she had once loved, a familiar face that was now nothing more than a stranger.
And so Diana felt nothing. Relief flooded through her body, warmed her blood in a way that only Akko had been capable of as of late. It was the warmth of comfort, the warmth of knowing that everything was going to be alright.
"Hey," Chloe said, breaking a silence Diana hadn't even noticed with a soft voice and the quirk of a lopsided smile. Her French accent, one that Diana had once been so enamored with, lilted into her words in a sound as natural as the whisper of wind through barren branches.
Her eyes flitted between Diana and Hannah. "Are you two ready?"
Diana nodded, tightening her fist around the strap of her overnight bag as she tensed her jaw in newfound confidence. "Yes."
"Yup," Hannah echoed from behind her. "Let's go. Barb, you'll take good care of Biscuit, won't you?"
Barbara glanced down at the little calico kitten who was currently chasing a twist tie through the kitchen. The kitten rolled over onto her back, batting her paws into the air as she stared at the four girls almost as though she knew she was the topic of conversation. "Is that a real question?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Hannah. "She'll be better company than the both of you combined."
"Charming," Diana muttered. "Enjoy."
"Well, alright, then." Chloe's smile hesitantly grew as she nodded in the direction of her black BMW—one Diana didn't recognize, it must have been either new or borrowed from her father's fleet—and offered a hand to help with one of Hannah's many bags. "Let's get you two lovebirds off to see those girls of yours, on y va?"
"Miss Cavendish."
It had been a long time since Diana had seen Ambassador Simoneau and, honestly, she had no idea if he was even privy to the events that had taken place between herself and his daughter. She doubted Chloe would have told him—after all, he didn't even know they were together—and so she chose to plaster on a bureaucratic smile and let the older man take her fingers delicately into his hands.
"It is wonderful to see you again," he greeted, placing a gentle kiss to each of her cheeks with the corners of his lips. It was a custom that Diana detested, though out of respect she gently brushed her own against the rough whiskers of his jawline. He smelled of aftershave and brand new tweed and she struggled not to be visibly grateful when he stepped back. "And Miss England, as well. A pleasure. Glasgow, is it?" He turned to eye the outlandishly large charter jet that sat still on the black top, his two black-suited escorts standing idly by the stairs that led into the cabin. "I do have business there, as well. May I ask how long your visit will be? I'm afraid I'll be returning in the morning to attend a meeting with Madame May. Dear, beloved President Trump tweeted a rather questionable statement last night regarding—"
"Papa," Chloe interrupted, her eyes narrowing as she shot her father a playful scold of a look. "Politics truly are a bore to the general public."
Diana, in fact, did not find politics a bore. The topic was absolutely integral to the well-being of society and something she kept up with religiously—and Chloe knew this about her. Though, instead of taking her statement personally, she chose to believe it was directed at Hannah, who was watching a cargo plane take off down the runway nearby with glazed eyes and an aura of impatience.
"Right," Ambassador Simoneau agreed. He chuckled and let his lips slide into a smile that very much resembled Chloe's. "My apologies," he added, though he covered his hand and whispered, "Though between you and me, that man is surely going to cause—"
"Papa!"
Diana placed her fingers against her lips and let out a small giggle. She'd always had a level of respect for Ambassador Simoneau. He was goofy, likable, and—though his humor was questionable at times—friendly and genuine. "We'll make our own arrangements for our return," Diana replied, cutting off any further opportunity for politics and scolds from Chloe. Besides, getting to the competition was the more urgent task. A return flight, even if it did interfere with any upcoming tasks during the week, would be lesser so. She shifted her overnight back on her shoulder, glancing at Chloe, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the drive and now stood eyeing her father as though he was a rambunctious child. "I sincerely appreciate you making room for the two of us on your flight."
"Well, we were planning on flying out a bit later this evening," Ambassador Simoneau admitted. "Though Chloe was very convincing in her argument to leave early. There are some very nice restaurants in Glasgow. And pubs, too. I wouldn't mind a few pints before meeting with Madame May. She can be—"
A glare from Chloe shut him up and he ended his speech with a chortle, running a hand over the hint of a beer gut as though he'd said something incredibly amusing.
Diana could feel the cringe Hannah was making behind her. Chloe had turned her eyes down, a dark blush creeping into her cheeks as she shuffled her feet against the slick black pavement. It was strange, being so close to a girl that she used to be intimate with. And even stranger that Chloe wasn't taking shots at her, wasn't begging, wasn't doing anything that she had done over the past couple of months.
The jet was smaller than Diana would have imagined. It looked larger from the outside, but the cabin sat only eight at the most with large, single seats lining a narrow row to the rear of the aircraft. Hannah's luggage took up one whole chair on its own, earning a pointed glare from Chloe, who said nothing as she settled down in the seat across the row from Diana.
"Do you still hate the take-off?"
It was the first thing that Chloe had directed straight to her and, for a moment, Diana was confused. She blinked back at the other girl, letting a few awkward seconds settle between them before hesitantly answering. "Yes. I do."
"Well." Chloe pursed her lips, turning her hand over on her armrest and presenting her palm. "If you need it."
It was a passive offer, one that Diana could tell held no meaning other than a minor comfort, though it made her feel anxious nonetheless. And she was determined not to take Chloe up on her offer, though when the jet burst into speed and the familiar, nauseating feeling of her organs crushing against her spine made her reach out unconsciously and grab the hand that had been waiting.
She threaded her fingers through Chloe's and tightened her grip, squeezed her eyes shut, and took a deep breath. The fingers between her own were long and thin, the palm so soft and warm. Chloe's hand was different than Akko's shorter but dexterous fingers, the hardened callouses that marred the tops of her palms from years of riding.
Chloe's hand was delicate and smooth. It felt good in Diana's own, but good in the way that a fond memory ghosts through the mind and brings forth a smile of reminiscence.
But it was not Akko's.
It was not home.
And as soon as the jet was airborne and the sinking pit of the rapid climb had left Diana's gut, she brought her hand back to her own lap and let out a long sigh. Her fingers turned over to press her nails into her palms, almost as though willing the feeling of her ex-girlfriend's touch away, but it still lingered. It would always linger. And maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Chloe was the wrong before the right. She was merely a stepping stone, one that Diana would always glance back from shore and see and remember how it carried her where she ended up. It was an experience that had not failed her but instead brought her to where she was supposed to be all along.
They were airborne for half an hour, the only sounds being Ambassador Simoneau's chortle from a few rows ahead and the loud drone of the engine, when Chloe finally spoke.
"Diana?"
Diana had fallen into thoughts—daydreams, really—of surprising Akko at her competition. Her mind had been filled with the brilliant smile her girlfriend would flash, at that first kiss of both shock and excitement. Chloe's voice broke her train of thought and, though not entirely unwelcome, dissipated all images of Akko, of Chariot, of soft lips against her own.
"Yes?" She cocked her head to the side in an effort to loosen her stiff neck before turning toward the brunette.
"Do you mind if I… apologize?" She added a sheepish smile, looking down at her hands fidgeting around her seatbelt as she chuckled to herself before adding, "Now that I have you 30,000 feet in the air and you can't exactly shut me down."
Diana rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but crack a hesitant smile. "And what would you like to apologize for?"
Diana had a laundry list: cheating, gaslighting, texting and calling inappropriately, treating Akko poorly, engaging Andrew in her horrible behaviors, being a bitch in general. But she wanted to hear it all from Chloe. She wanted the other girl to take responsibility for her own actions, not just those handed to her.
"Everything," Chloe said. Her voice was soft, shaky. Nervous. She curled her index finger around the metal of her seat buckle and squeezed. "I've been a horrible person. I realize that my actions are irreversible and I don't expect forgiveness or kindness from you. I see how happy you are with the girl you're with now and I feel terrible for interfering. I was just… I don't know, jealous? I was selfish in my actions and I know I ruined us all on my own but it still hurt seeing you smiling in that way you do at somebody else. I just…"
The recent fear of Akko and Avery engulfed Diana's mind and she felt her eyes glaze over, felt the sudden understanding of seeing someone she loved—even when she was the one who pushed her away—potentially involved with someone else. It had hurt, it had burned, it had filled her insides with a crushing reality of knowing she had let her go.
The next words out of Diana surprised even her. After all, Chloe had been horrible. She had been vindictive and manipulative, she had been cruel and downright awful.
But, at one point, so had Diana.
And so, with her mouth opening and uttering something that sounded foreign even to her, she found Chloe's searching brown eyes and said, "I forgive you."
When her phone vibrated for the first time, Diana was unconcerned. Of course she would have an e-mail or a message after the flight. After all, it was inevitable.
But when the vibrating continued, buzzing relentlessly in the pocket of her sweatpants, the anxiety of something potentially being wrong rose thick and heavy in her throat. Her first thought was Akko: had something happened? Had she hurt her wrist? And then Aunt Daryl. What if her travel had gone poorly? Or if she couldn't make the gala at all?
A dozen stressful scenarios flew through her mind before she could unlock her phone.
"Someone's popular," Hannah muttered as she lugged her bags into the boot of Ambassador Simoneau's oversized black SUV. She pulled her own phone out of her pocket and flicked the screen on, frowning. "Bloody hell, Amanda hasn't even texted me yet today. Oh—wait. I lied. She did. 'Ay boo whatchu do?'," she read mockingly. She shook her head and laughed.
But Diana wasn't listening. She was staring down at the messages that were still flooding across her screen. Messages that had come in during the flight when she couldn't receive them.
Akko 18:01
Hi
I wanted to let u know that I don't like u for ur hair
I mean
I like ur hair
But
I mean obv ur gorgeous
U know that
So does everyone else
but ur so much more
Ur smart in ways that I can never hope to be
(but that's ok bc I have u to figure things out for me)
And ur so brave even tho u probably think ur not
But u've been thru so much
And you're such a good person
So, brave
And ur kind
U always put me first and ur so supportive
(except that one time but ok that's in the past)
(we only go where the light touches, Simba)
Diana chuckled, though her face was burning red.
(ok sry bad Lion King joke)
(oof)
(moving on)
I love the way u look at Beatrix
and even more the way u look at me
I love that I can trust u with anything
Except maybe leaving u alone in my room and u not cleaning everything
(i like my dirty underwear in that corner tyvm)
and I love ur voice and ur laugh
even that wheeze u do when somethings esp. funny
(usually me)
and that smile you get when ur genuinely happy
She was smiling like that now. She had felt the corners of her lips turn up into the fire of her cheeks as she read on.
ok should I sum this up now
bc I feel silly
and uh theres more reasons but
maybe in person
when I'm feeling sappy or s/t
but just so u know
for all that u are and all that I know u to be
I am in love with you, Diana Cavendish
K bye
She snapped her phone off, mostly because Hannah was trying to read over her shoulder, and tried desperately to cover the crimson fire of her cheeks behind the palm of her hand.
"Are you serious?" Hannah exclaimed, her eyebrows scrunching together as she flopped back into her own seat with her hand still gripping the back of Diana's. "Akko sends you the most lovey-dovey shit on the planet and I get, 'Ay boo whatchu do'? I swear, that girl is getting lit into as soon as I get to that hotel room—"
But Diana wasn't paying attention. A warm fire had spread through her insides, engulfing every molecule of her body as she closed her eyes and thought about Akko. About the teeth that had probably closed around the other girl's bottom lip as she thought of what to say, of what to send. She was not generally emotional as it was—Akko was very neutral and easy-going, one of Diana's favorite traits—and for her to send something that even half-resembled a love letter written to the singer of a boy band was something to behold.
And so by the time she made it to the hotel that Akko was staying at, by the time she had walked on numb legs to the room the receptionist had provided and knocked on the door, she had already prepared what she wanted to say back. She had run the words through her mind on repeat as she anxiously made her way to the girl she loved, to the arms she wanted to find herself in… that night, and forever.
But as Akko opened the door, clean and ridiculously attractive in a white button-up that Diana had never seen her wear, all thoughts of what Diana had planned to say slipped away like a shadow at dusk. Instead, all she could think to do was smile. Smile because Akko was so pretty, because she had called out in Japanese (which Diana always loved to hear), because Akko was there, right in front of her.
She shifted her bag nervously on her shoulder.
"Hi," Akko murmured, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "What… what are you doing here?"
The familiar voice of the girl she loved warmed her, filled her with comfort and reassurance. She looked down at the phone in her hand, the phone that held all the messages she had received from Akko when she got off her flight, the messages that had made Diana melt beneath the weight of her own throbbing love.
She thought of the single blade of grass, pressed first between Akko's admission in her Psychology textbook and now with her own in her private journal, and felt herself smile.
And, finally, she spoke. It wasn't what she had planned, but her lips formed words on their own, brought forth speech from muscle memory and the desire to say something about everything.
"There are a lot of reasons why I love you, too," Diana heard herself say. She swallowed hard, pushing her phone back into the pocket of her sweatpants as she stepped toward the bewildered girl. She could smell jasmine and lavender, the fresh scents of Akko's shampoo and facewash, and her body relaxed into the familiarity. "But I don't know how to tell you—" Not at that moment, anyway, as she had completely forgotten everything, "—so I think this will do."
She moved forward on impulse, felt soft lips tingling against her own in the faint question of a kiss. It lasted only a moment before Akko was pressing back, was sighing into a kiss filled with fervor, filled with words that didn't need to be said, filled with….
Well, filled with love.
But the moment didn't last, like all of their moments didn't last, because life was life and had a very inconvenient way of reminding them.
"Atsuko?!"
Except when Diana broke away—mostly because Akko's hands had found her chest and pushed her forcefully away—and her blue eyes met the small Japanese woman standing in the hallway, there was no doubt in her mind it was Akko's mother.
And Diana realized the weight of that very inconvenience was one that she was in no way prepared for.
