Happy New Year to all of you and WELCOME BACK AMERICA!
Chapter took me a little longer, I had planned a different chapter to take place here but I postponed that to the next one, as some of you need a little more fluff these days.
The mistakes down there are as sure as hell on me ;)
See Author's Note (Chapter one)
Maura admired Jane. She had worn the harness twice herself during the pregnancy and she had only lain on her back and although Maura was fit and well trained her gluteus maximus had burned like fire the next morning, both times.
The weather on July 07, 2009 in Paris was pleasant. That day the sun rose at 4:56 a.m. and set at 8:55 p.m. In the morning it was 15°C (59°F) and there were a few clouds. The climate remained the same around noon with an increase in temperatures to 20°C (68°F). At the end of the day, temperatures dropped to 17°C (62,6°F) at 7 p.m. and the sky again was cloudy. There was little precipitation in the early morning and late afternoon.
Neither Maura nor Jane had noticed the sunrise or the rain. At 4:56 a.m., they were rather busy having passionate sex, and at 6:38 a.m., when the rain set in, they were sound asleep.
They had arrived in Paris the previous day around noon. Since their flight from Boston had left at 4:42 a.m., the night had been short and the time difference did the rest to throw their bodies off course for a short time. They were tired from the flight but not tired enough to sleep when night fell over Paris.
It had been an unspoken fact that Sophie would stay in the main house with her Grandmothers, at least for the next two nights. Before their wedding two years ago the couple had spent the night separated. They had both liked the idea back then. Nowadays separation was something that didn't sit very well with them, at least at the moment. They worked on different stories of the same building and on some days, in the last month, it had been a tough effort not to check in on each other every five minutes. At night they were glued to each other without a hairbreadth of space between them, in fact they were glued to each other whenever life would allow it.
They both lacked sleep, but they knew that it was only a matter of time until they would go back to before Dominick. It would get better, slowly, sneakingly. For the last month they had put off falling asleep until they could not stay awake any longer or they would fall asleep rather early and wake up in the middle of the night.
Once upon a time, Dr. Maura Isles thought she was a sensualist, the term hedonism often used disparagingly and interpreted as a sign of decadence. She loved to enjoy every aspect of life, take her time to enjoy every aspect of life, having the patience to enjoy every aspect of life. She loved yoga and breathing exercises, for both you needed a special kind of ease of mind, willpower. She had no idea how Jane kept her own lust in rein when she was inside of her.
They had spent many nights just lying in bed, silently, holding each other close. They had easily spent the same amount of nights making love for hours until they fell asleep. They had used the toy again, this time it had been Jane asking for it, asked for Maura to use it on her. It had been a day full of vulnerabilities and Maura had with the utmost care understood Jane's non-verbal communication.
Maura had blamed it on her already massively increased sexual appetite the previous two times, but this time that subterfuge didn't work. It had all started carefully and tenderly and it had been that way for most of the time, but when her senses closed in on Jane only, her smell, her touch, her sound, her increased breath, Maura became hyperaware of her need to chase her own orgasm and she had absolutely no idea how Jane resisted this primal urge every time. Jane never increased the pace of her movements when Maura didn't ask for it.
She had been on top this time and she could see why men loved this so much. The vulnerability of this particular liaison made her feel like all her nerve endings were raw, literally. It didn't sit well with the refined doctor that she too could be brought down to her primal needs and she had never been more aware of it as in that moment.
She wasn't ashamed to be turned on by her wife, far from it. She would be ashamed not to be attracted to Jane. Her character, her devotion, her love. The fact that she had been sexually attracted to Jane in the first place no longer mattered after she fell in love with the detective. Which, in turn, didn't mean that she couldn't desire her body as much as she desired the rest of her wife.
In all the time she had slept with Jane, she had never before felt such overwhelming desire to dominate. It had almost consumed her, and for that she had been ashamed for a moment, a little disgusted. Not of Jane. Of herself. Of the need to pin down her arms, pressing her into the mattress, of using the potency of that moment.
She had resisted. It had been anything but easy. She had bitten the inside of her cheek and had drawn blood. She had told Jane. Later, much, much later that night. Maura knew Jane had to resist laughing. Not that Jane would ever laugh at her. It was this laugh that Jane laughed when she found something totally cute.
Jane did find it cute when Maura, the genius, occasionally learned that she was only human, too.
Jane had silently handed Maura their toy back and when she had pulled Maura on top of her, Jane had told her that with their first time she had been too fixated on Maura to develop that feeling and that their position, Maura sitting on her lap, had been way too intimate to think about quick sex, but when Maura had pulled her on top that night… it had been the only time Jane had ever felt that way and Jane had mused that it probably was totally normal to discover this dark spot inside oneself.
Against all odds Jane and also Maura had avoided drama and big fuss all around their wedding two years ago. Jane had been impressed, she had at least expected her mother to explode all over the topic, but she had not and therefor the couple had left it entirely to Constance and Angela to plan for renewing their vows.
They had only given two rules not to be broken, only closest family and nothing ostentatiously. They had set the location and given a color, everything else was up to both mothers. Angela and Constance had left for Paris two days before the rest of them.
It was risky, they both knew that. Deep down they trusted their mothers not to go all rampage about that day. It had been the group of men casting doubt, deep down inside them. They had had their fun with Maura and Jane. When the couple had mentioned that they left the planning to both their mothers, Jane's partners and brothers had kept snickering at how hilariously that could end up. How Constance refine taste and Angela's tendency for kitsch would play out. Jane was sure they just tried to mess with them…
Matriarch. They had it wrong. Vince Korsak had referred to Angela as the matriarch. Angela Rizzoli was not the matriarch of the Rizzoli-family. That title belonged to Jane and Jane only. Angela loved her children, grandchildren and she loved Maura. She kept them fed every Sunday, and on each holiday, but the title of a matriarch belonged to Jane, if you asked Maura.
Jane was the one keeping them together. Jane was the one who was the strong and level-headed leader who fought off every threat or danger or even minor bumps in the road, without one of them being aware of it. Jane was the one who dealt with all their problems and if she could, she would make them go away, before anyone knew they even had a problem.
The most compelling reason for Maura was simply the fact that Jane did absolutely everything for her family and never asked for anything in return. She pulled the strings in the background and let anyone else be the hero, let her mother carry the title of being their head, their matriarch. Jane had done that for her too. More than once. Jane had a certain way of helping Maura cope with her social insecurity that didn't make the doctor look like a fool.
Maura had woken up a few minutes ago. As so often in the mornings, when Jane was still sleeping peacefully, she let her mind wander. Before, it was thoughts about work or an article she had recently read. Sometimes she had thought about an article she was working on herself or some other scientific topic that was preoccupying her. Sometimes it had been her mother and their last conversation on the phone. Her mother's upcoming projects. Whatever it was, sometimes her thoughts were very random even back then, it rarely had anything to do with her as a person.
It was something Jane had changed also. There had been mornings when Maura had woken up from a pleasant dream, pleasant but not sexually, where Maura thought about just moving over that thin line that separated friendship from something more. There had been mornings when Maura had woken up from a dream, where one of them had crossed that line and Maura had lain in bed thinking about how that would have played out. She had lain in bed and sorted through her feelings, when they had been friends, when they had actually crossed that line, when they were just in the beginning, newly-weds, pregnant, parents.
Sometimes Maura thought about a case or an article she had recently read. Sometimes she had thought about an article she was working on herself or some other scientific topic that was preoccupying her. But that barely happened anymore, not when she woke up from sleep. Those few minutes in the morning, waking up were mostly spend on things that were private and they were strewn all over the place. Diapers, love, comfort, dinner, family, happiness, baby bottles, dates, sex.
Maura looked over at the alarm and bit her lower lip, making meticulous calculations. It was 10:27 a.m. and she was very much in the mood for some warm and tender morning sex. They were expected to their intimate ceremony at 2 p.m., sharp. Maura bit her lower lip again. She had to decide, now. The more time she spent pondering, the less time they had for more lovelier things. A sleepy kiss against her neck was to tip the scale.
Jane had not been awake, that kiss was something subconsciously. It was one of the things that made Maura's heart melt away. Most times Jane scooted her nose along any skin she could find nearby, beforehand and it was followed with searching fingers that intertwined with hers.
There were a lot of ways for Maura to initiate making love and it depended on a few things for her to decide which way she would choose. For mornings, when Jane still was sound asleep, there were three, four ways when you counted Maura being pregnant and highly aroused and not patient enough for going slowly in the morning. Three ways, since Maura was no longer pregnant and morning sex once again was exactly why she loved having it with Jane in the first place.
Warm and soft and tender and slow and a little bit drowsily.
Mounting Jane would wake her up rather quickly and going down on her would slow down that process, but ultimately it would both result in them having sex straightaway. Maura craved for something more delicate, for very slow and in-depth. She scooted her nose along Jane's ear, breathing directly into it. She pulled the lobe between her lips, the tip of her tongue touching the back of it a few times before she slowly closed her teeth and tenderly scraped at the skin and nibbled the lobe. It was a guarantor for waking up Jane affectionately and to communicate effectively her intentions.
To a lot of people Jane appeared to be grumpy in the morning. Very few people knew that wasn't the fact. It depended on how Jane was being woken up and the reason to be woken up. Jane was actually very sweet in the morning, whether it was with Maura or Sophie or Jo Friday. Jane didn't like to be woken early for no reason at all. She savored to sleep in whenever she was given the opportunity. She hated being woken just for the reason that someone decided she had slept long enough.
Jane fingers searched Maura's, her fingertips ghosting over the skin of her left arm, index scooting along the counterpart, fingers squeezing fingers softly, guiding united hands behind her own back before hers came back and pulled Maura closer, at the small of her back.
Skin, bordering on hot from sleep. Maura was thankful that Jane had warned their family, especially Angela, made it clear that under no circumstances, apart from someone actually dying or an emergency with Sophie, they were not to be disturbed before they emerged the pool-house on their own. It had been a fulmination. It wasn't because of them having uninterrupted sex, it was because of them needing a peacefully and comfortably morning, day in general. And there would be consequences if that request was not fulfilled, severe consequences, Maura was sure of that, even if there was never mouthed a word of that.
When Jane's lips found Maura's, the doctor knew that they would barely make it on time.
The first moan Maura had no control over anymore left her lips when Janes right hand pressed against her hip to just turn her back a little more to the mattress and latched onto her left breast. Jane could make love to her with just her tongue on her nipple.
Maura wrapped her right hand around the back of Jane's head, pulling her on top of her body completely, the pad of her left middle finger softly caressing a line up and down between the detective's shoulder blades. Jane kissed up her jaw, scooting her nose along the skin next to Maura's ear before whispering an 'I love you' as a 'good morning', kissing down the neck to her collar bone.
Jane's warm hands were on her. Her arms, her sides, her shoulders, her back, her chest, when the scar on her right dragged over her tight nipple she shuddered. Maura couldn't remember when hands without that scars had touched her anywhere. Sometimes it felt like that life never had happened, not to her. Sometimes it was like some story Maura had read. The story of someone else's life, not hers.
She basked in the feeling their current connection brought. Maura moaned again when Jane's right palm slit down her thigh and closed softly around her knee, lifting her leg, the calf coming to rest directly underneath Jane's right buttock. It moved them even closer together and she felt the sensation of Jane's warm skin against her sex. She sensually dragged her thumb over Jane's lips before she pulled her back into a kiss.
Both of her hands slit down skin, cupping two buttocks carefully into her palms, wordlessly communicating with her soulmate. There had been times when Jane would have hesitated, impalpably, but still. Those times where long gone. She kissed Maura a last time before she lifted herself up onto her shins and slowly inched higher. That particular act to please a woman could be frivolously, obscenely. Maybe it would have been, under differently circumstances. They were married and so incredible deeply in love with each other.
Jane was such an incredible lover and if Maura hadn't been surprised that the Italian had made her come like this, she had been amazed that there was absolutely no resistance when Maura had signaled that she wanted Jane in exactly that position for the first time, years ago.
It was absolutely sinfully, but not in the true sense of the word. It was sinfully intimate and sinfully erotic and sinfully beautiful. They didn't do it often. It was never planned, rather spontaneously and always one of the most tender encounters. A gain in pleasure and an act of deepest love. Regardless of whether Maura gave or took.
Sex, you can have with strangers. It never was a thing for Jane, but she knew that Maura had indulged in that lifestyle. Even if some might expect it from her, it had never bothered Jane. Jane would never judge Maura for it. What they had with each other was special and not only for Jane, there was absolutely no doubt. Jane would never had given so much of herself if she would doubt her partner.
Maura knew every secret there was about Jane, no matter how small. She never judged or made Jane feel small or two-bit, she never belittled Jane or her feelings, she never questioned Jane and all of that guarantied Maura the infinitely unconditional love and trust of Jane. There was a lot in which Jane's love was reflected, many little things, a certain intimacy that Jane allowed in public, which was not that easy for someone like Jane, but the greatest proof of her unconditional love and trust happened for only Maura to witness. In bed. There, she was the one only Maura would ever get to see, to feel, to love. Nobody else had ever been close enough to experience this side of the Italian detective. And nobody ever would. This always and forever belonged to Maura Isles.
Maura kissed the inside of Jane's right thigh. She breathed in the smell of her wife, warm skin and arousal. She was not going to tease Jane, but it wouldn't be quick either. She kissed Jane's sex once, took a slow swipe from her opening before she closed her lips around and pressed her tongue against her wife's clit. They had tried different things and many of them worked on different level, but Maura wasn't going with mediocre. She knew what worked best for Jane and best was the only thing Jane would get from Maura, on every day and very much today.
Maura loved the sight of their different skin colors against each other, on Fitzpatrick scale she was definitively Type I, where Jane was a Type III in winter and as soon as a streak of sun came out much more a Type IV. Wherever Maura had thought she would come from she early knew that some of her heritage must have come from northern Europe. The only thing tanning where her freckles and who never had seen Maura after staying in the sun wouldn't know that she had thousands of them. The red gleam in her hair color also was a giveaway.
Her ivory skinned hands next to her breast let seem Jane's nipples even darker, they were not rosy like Maura's, more likely Type V, but the contrast let them seem nearly black. Like Jane's eyes. They were a warm and dark brown, but when she looked right then they were black like coal. Maura knew why that happened, it didn't matter, she was much more fascinated with what it did to her than where it came from. When there was sun behind a naked Jane she would glow like an ancient golden statue of Egypt. A glorious view.
She kept the low pace of her tongue, almost as if she was examining something thoroughly. She felt Jane's muscles moving, fluttering under her fingers. She sucked on Jane's clit one, twice, trice before she slowly entered Jane. She had been so surprised when Jane had penetrated her with her tongue the first time. It hadn't been something on her horizon. She had no idea why, because after, it was something logically. It was the strongest muscle in the body, very flexible, sensitive, in shape and size absolutely suitable for indescribable pleasure.
Her hands moved to Jane's hips, helping her wife to impale herself deeper onto her tongue. Three or four, maybe even five strokes, then both of them would move out again. They both had never spend a whole sexual act like that, maybe they should try that once, but probably it was for days when sex was more carnal.
When Maura once had shied away from the idea of having body fluids anywhere near her mouth, her body in general, in truth, the thought of sperm in her mouth sickened her to death, she loved to taste Jane. Of course, there were many other things but it was one of the indicators for really, really being undyingly in love with Jane.
Maura was a quick learner and when she had a very above average knowledge of the human body, she had picked up that technique from Jane. She hadn't for once in her life thought that she could have such an incredible orgasm from oral stimulation, or anything else for that matter. So, when Jane had done it again, she had willed herself just to pay attention for a few seconds before her brain again was just useless.
First chance she got to reciprocate, she had beat Jane at her own game. Or was it to give Jane a taste of her own medicine? She rarely got those idioms right. Whatever it was, it didn't really matter. What did matter was that Jane couldn't resist Maura when she used her tongue to please the headstrong detective.
Maura delayed the act, slowing the movements of her tongue every now and then for a few moments without being cruel. She was enjoying the moment as much as Jane and would willingly spend hours worshipping her wife like that. Sadly, it wouldn't be hours, Jane was not only more responsive when Maura's tongue was involved but also not able to prolong her climax for very long.
The movements of Jane's hips were only subtle. Protecting was primary element of Jane's DNA, her blood. Maura knew that wasn't actually a thing but even she could have believed that if she ever sequenced the Italians genomes that she would make surprising discoveries. Like one of the nucleobases actually being replaced. Adenin (A), Thymin (T), Cytosin (C), Guanin (G), one or all of them replaced by a bold and dominating P. She had actually giggled when that idea had bubbled up, she had tried to imagine the look on her face when she discovered this. It was crazy, absolutely crazy and when Maura would have shaken her head at this absurdity just a few years prior she just welcomed and giggled about those ideas. She loved science and it would be so much more coherent if she could explain Jane and all of her feelings toward her wife with scientific proof.
It came naturally to Jane to protect, even when she was supposed to feel, to enjoy. It was in her DNA, she always thought of others first and it was a given that Maura always had enough room to breathe. Jane mastered this task like she mastered every task. It was like Jane was immune to any kind of selfishness, even while having sex.
At the beginning Maura thought that it was the novelty, but after several months of sleeping together, the doctor had to come up with a new theory. Whenever she'd slept with men, the sex was done in compartments. In the beginning they had touched her, but as soon as they penetrated Maura, the only touch was often to hold onto her or to shift her. With Jane that was differently too.
Jane had once laughed that Vince Korsak wasn't able to walk and chew gum at the same time. At first Maura didn't get it. Vincent was neither walking nor chewing gum, but when she had looked over and saw him desperately trying to juggle the phone call and writing his report, she understood the idiom.
She knew the myth that revolved around multi-tasking and that most people understood it to be something that was not really multitasking, but comparing Jane to the men she had been with, you could have believed there was something true to it.
She had tried to find out if it was a matter of a same-sex relationship in general or if it was simply their connection, but instead she had learned a few clichés that didn't apply to them either. Maura had stopped to research the relationship topping after that. She believed their couple was out of the norm and reading about those things didn't do any good.
They were married and already parents and aside from a few minor bumps through the pregnancy Maura was a firm believer that she could never grew tired of Jane. She was even more fascinated of Jane each day they spend together, even more than the day they met.
She felt Jane shuddering once. It was the first sign of her impending orgasm. When most people would rather pick up their ministration Maura reduced the pressure onto Jane's clit. Even Jane's orgasms were an enigma on their own. They were so much more intense when it was slow and soft. Aware of how it sounded, Jane's orgasms were some of Maura's favorites things to witness. It was one of the rare moments when Jane was absolutely bare of her guards. She didn't need to watch, Maura only needed to let herself feel.
As soon as Jane's climax started, she simultaneously rolled to the side, coming to rest on her back and pulled Maura on top of her. That only was something happening when Maura brought Jane to orgasm singly, she needed Maura to be her guard. To shield her. Whenever they stimulated each other at the same time, Jane was the one guarding their vulnerability.
It wasn't that Jane underestimated Maura's strength or ability to protect. It was her nature and the detective found it hard to fight against it. There was also no need to fight it, Maura never felt belittled or dominated, overpowered. It was Jane's way to show love and care and Maura would never rob her of it. On the contrary. It was incredible sexy and satisfied a primal need in Maura when Jane shielded her from the outside world, in her vulnerability, with her whole body.
Being Jane's guard in that moment also satisfied a primal need, a primal instinct. It's like a reflex, it happens in the subconscious and resisting your basic instincts is anything but easy. It's one of the reasons Jane is so successfully doing her job, she has very healthy primal instincts and she trusts them.
Maura was wet an incredible turned on, but there was absolutely no hurry. She loved to bask in their small bubble and anticipation is half the pleasure, she never had understood a proverb that well as this one. They kept kissing and holding and caressing each other. Maura wrapped her legs around Jane and moaned because of the movement against her sex when Jane slowly had turned them around.
The Italian was very skilled at keeping Maura's excitements high and in check at the same time. Morning sex was a ritual whose paradigms both of them treasured. Gentle, soft and slow. It was characterized by kisses and caresses, they took their sweet time and when they had no time to spare, it didn't happen at all.
Janes fingers replaced her tongue and kept carefully caressing her clit when she kissed back up Maura's body, again taking her left nipple into her mouth. Maura was close, very close, but whenever they made love like this her orgasms came very slowly, too. Practice makes perfect. When Maura had been coming quickly whenever Jane had touched her in the beginning, the blonde had learned to time her body. It had a lot in common with meditating. Maura willed her body to obey. If she wanted to come quickly, she could. Jane was skilled to have her orgasming in merely seconds, giving the mood. She had learned to enjoy, she could draw out their lovemaking for hours when she wanted, now.
Sometimes she wanted to reward Jane with one of her orgasms. It may sound odd, but Maura's orgasms were a gratification for Jane. You did need to know Jane like Maura knows Jane to understand that statement. More often though Maura not wanted their lovemaking coming to an end. She didn't defalcate the fact that her orgasms were always multiple and earth-shattering whenever they both made love for hours.
Having a baby on top of their jobs made it sometimes hard to celebrate their intimacy, their love. It was all the more important for both to seize opportunities that arose. They made time for their couple. They made love whenever possible. Whatever else they were throughout the day they were lovers and being intimate was essential for them. Whatever else they were throughout the day, when they went to bed at night it was always only them. It was the mortar between their bricks.
Maura put her index under Jane's chin and lifted her mouth from her nipple, softly guiding her up to her own lips. Maura gasped against those warm and soft lips. It was only a few strokes now.
R&I * R&I * R&I * R&I * R&
Jane's ring and necklace had never been found and when Bianchi was asked, he had replied that they were where they belonged. Flushed down the toilette. It had hurt Jane, terribly. Their wedding bands had been a symbol, for them. Jane Rizzoli did not wear jewelry. She never had. That was not entirely true. Maura knew she had worn the necklace that was now adorning Sophie's neck.
A beautiful and meaningful necklace. Her grandmother put them on Jane when she was baptized. A silver chain with a circular pendant that once had her own name on it and a diamond as her birthstone. After Sophie's birth, Jane took it to a jeweler and had her name replaced by her daughter's, exchanging the diamond for a garnet. A small silver cross and a guardian angel to the left and right of it. Jane had loved this necklace and wore it proudly; she had torn it from her neck the day her grandmother died.
She had been eight years old and furious with god and the rest of the world. It had been kept in the box, wherein it had been delivered in, on her nightstand since then. One and a half year later she had whispered to her mother, that maybe one day she would give it to her own child, when she wasn't sad anymore, moments before falling asleep. It was one of Angela's most precious memories.
Jane wore a wrist watch, and even this was primarily useful before it was seen as a piece of jewelry.
Jane had already worn a simple, silver-colored watch when the two had met. Really met. Maura had given Jane a new watch on their first Valentine's Day together. Not an expensive watch. Jane would never have worn these. This watch was much more priced for someone on Jane's salary. But Maura wouldn't have been Maura if the watch weren't special. She had the watch engraved. "Courage is being scared to death ... and saddling up anyway." ―John Wayne. And then there was a little finesse ... whenever the watch was jerked, the lock opened by itself to avoid serious injury or to prevent the watch from breaking. Whatever came in handy first.
Jane had worn her wedding band with pride and had been in love with it. It had broken her heart when it couldn't be found.
Jane had been a little difficult at first. She was a little superstitious and while she loved her ring, she didn't want replication. It had been a bit of work, but in the end, they'd settled on the simplest kind of rings money could buy. 0.6 inches stacked rings in gold. Jane's band was kept plain and simple and she had suggested emeralds for Maura's ring, but Maura had been torn between the emeralds and diamonds. She wasn't particularly fond of diamonds, but then it was Jane's birthstone. Ultimately, Maura decided to keep her ring as simple as her wife's. Their rings were not supposed to scream wealth or possessions and when they lay in bed that night with the box of their identical wedding rings on Jane's chest, they were absolutely happy with their decision.
Now that box was in Tommy's possession.
Possession. Red. Red is associated with many things. Possession. Rage. Anger. Blood. Passion. Love.
If you would ask Maura, she probably would come up with thatRed is the archetypal color, the first color humans mastered, fabricated, reproduced, and broke down into different shades, first in painting and later in dyeing. This has given it primacy over all other colors through the millennia. Like Michel Pastoureau had once declared.
If you would ask Richard, he probably would quote Neil Gaiman.Libraries are the thin red line between civilization and barbarism.
If you would ask Constance she would probably go with 'When I haven't any blue I use red.' by Pablo Picasso. Or she would tell you that once the French painter Jean-Jacques Rousseau was asked why he put a naked woman on a red sofa in the middle of his jungle pictures. He answered, 'I needed a bit of red there.'
Tommy, as a young kid laughed about 'Santa knows Physics: Of all colors, Red Light penetrates fog best. That's why Benny the Blue-nosed reindeer never got the gig' by Neil deGrasse Tyson. He had painted reindeers with blue noses for weeks.
There are many things that have been said about the color of red.
Red', I write is the color of life. It's blood, passion, rage. It's menstrual flow and after birth. Beginnings and violent end. Red is the color of love. Beating hearts and hungry lips. Roses, Valentines, cherries. Red is the color of shame. Crimson cheeks and spilled blood. Broken hearts, opened veins. A burning desire to return to white. Mary Hogan
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit together at the table of brotherhood. Martin Luther King
A bull becomes furious only if he is presented with a red cloth; a philosopher, on the other hand, goes into a rage as soon as the color is mentioned. Johann Von Goethe
A red rose is not selfish because it wants to be a red rose. It would be horribly selfish if it wanted all the other flowers in the garden to be both red and roses. Oscar Wilde
When in doubt, make a red painting. Kay WalkingStick
Red protects itself. No colour is as territorial. It stakes a claim, is on the alert against the spectrum.
Derek Jarman
Red stimulates and excites your nerves, pulse rate and blood circulation, and lends energy to your entire system. When you are fatigued, lethargic or sluggish for any reason, red has an energizing influence.
Tae Yun Kim
They had chosen red. Maura's dress was scarlet red and so was Jane's blouse.
Scarlet is a brilliant red color, associated with courage, force, passion, heat, and joy. In the Roman Catholic Church, scarlet is the color worn by a cardinal, and is associated with the blood of Christ and the Christian martyrs, and with sacrifice.
Scarlet is also often associated with immorality and sin, particularly prostitution or adultery, largely because of a passage referring to 'The Great Harlot', 'dressed in purple and scarlet', in the Bible.
It was all of it for them; courage, force, passion, heat, joy, immorality, love and sin. They were all of it, but first and furthermore their love, their couple was brilliant red and bright like scarlet.
Their rings were that small that you could easily miss them, giving just a glance. Engraving both had cost triple the price they had paid for the wedding bands, because they were that small and in the end; Jane had gotten her way though, somehow. Both rings had a diamond and an emerald, very tiny ones, on the inside, next to each other and next to the engraving.
They had had a beautiful wedding, the first time, but this one was also beautiful, meaningful. The special moment when they each slipped the rings on their fingers, simultaneously. It was intimated and differently. There were no big words or speeches, it was rather quiet and they only whispered the engravement of their rings. 'You complete me', in two different tongues, like before. There was nothing else describing them any better.
There was Cassata Siciliana, just enough for all of them. There was a barbecue, Mediterranean style. If you didn't know, you would have thought it was just a gathering of family and close friends, just like Maura and Jane had wished for. Renewing their vows was just the cherry on top. There was music and dancing, laughing and sharing stories, there were tons of pictures taken.
Remember that cover from 'bound for life', that's my desktop background. I pictured them wearing that during their second wedding, but I couldn't for the life of me find out who designed that dress… even asked for help -.-
Thank you very much for your time, review would be awesome like always :)
Stay safe, stay healthy.
A/N
A comment on one of my chapters drew my attention to something I hadn't thought about before. So far, I believed that wherever we meet here to celebrate a love between two women, we all have and allow liberal views. Obviously, someone, or perhaps several of you, feel insulted by my views on the Catholic faith.
I was at a Catholic boarding school and if I have learned one thing in my life, it is that many people can have the same faith and still live it out completely differently.
My parents were rather moderate Catholics, my grandfather too and my grandmother was more the kind of a hypocritically Catholic. It would take too much time to explain my Grandmother, let's just say, she was a devout Catholic, when needed.
I grew up with a lot of different views on the Catholic Faith and I think that thinking every Catholic or believer (whatever religion they may have) is equal and good people, is just delusional.
The country in which you grew up plays a big role in how you practice your faith, or the country were your ancestors came from. You know (or maybe not, as most of you are Americans and you differ a lot from Europeans; no insults included) in Germany there are basically two major denominations, Catholics and Lutherans, there are a few minor-churches as New Apostles, Baptists and Mennonites but they are all Christians. Other religions basically only come through immigrants. There aren't that many different offshoots of a religious community here. A Catholic Mass is a Catholic Mass, regardless of the state or city you are in. They hardly differ from each other.
When I finished school, I did a 'bed & breakfast tour' across the USA and Canada and I was completely overwhelmed by how many different faith communities there are alone among Catholics. Germans or maybe all Europeans generally get confused by the amount of differences in any state of the US. We all have the same law, regardless of whether you come from the north or west of Germany. We have small differences in terms of payment or taxes in each federal state, but basically the same rules apply everywhere. And since it is just up to date, when we vote, the same conditions and rules apply throughout Germany.
But back to topic…
Some people are moderate in their faith, some are not, we all have to live with that.
There is a little story where I first learned one Catholic is not like another…
My brother was four, my sister seven and I was five, my little brother not even born. The neighborhood children six and five, a girl and a boy. We were playing in our back yard and it was really hot that summer day. It was normal for us to turn on the sprinkler or even use the garden hose to get each other wet. And it was absolutely normal for us to run through the garden, butt naked. We were children and our yard hidden from the outside view.
We had real fun… until the neighborhood-kids mom came to get her children. I was only five, but hell, I will never forget the yelling. How my mother, as a good Catholic could allow her children to run around naked and on top of that girls and boys mixed. She lectured my mom on how she would rot in hell for her morally depraved children… and guess what, neighborhood-kids weren't allowed as far as to look our way from that day on.
It never was a problem at home before. We were kids, far from puberty and sexuality and we didn't care about each other's bare butts. It never was a problem with my parents either, my parents didn't run around naked at home but they also didn't hide from us. It was never a problem to go to the bathroom when one of my parents were in the shower or bathtub, we had to knock, but that was for a different reason. We bathed together until a certain age and until we were able to bathe on our own, we also sometimes bathed with my mom or dad.
I learned through my life that a lot of Catholics have an odd relation to their own sexuality or body and even more so to others. My grandma serves as a good example there, too.
When my gramps fell ill, she had to care for him, she didn't want to put him in a nursing home. She did a very good job on that, but when he had to pee or needed to be washed my uncle had to come because my grandma couldn't touch him "there". She actually called it "there". My grandparents have three children and I am fairly certain that even my 'good Catholic' Grandmother didn't only have sex (I am trying to not picture that in my head) when trying for a baby, like a good Catholic would do… but she likes to act like that is something dirty and disgusting… give her some schnapps and you learn things about your grandparents you never wanted to know. In my opinion that is hypocritical and a lot of Christians in my life are exactly like that.
Maybe some of you are offended by my view on Christians or Catholics, but I can only rely on what I have lived and I really can live without people trying to tell me otherwise, just because my experiences cast a bad light upon their faith.
No faith in this world is perfect, and believers are even less perfect in their practice. No matter how perfect you think you are, I 'm pretty sure we can find bodies in your basement too.
Amen.
And before I forget… sex doesn't have to be perfect to be perfect… perception is the keyword here.