Things were different after their confession. A good different, certainly; warmer and brighter and more exciting, but also a tiny bit terrifying. It was just all so new. Leah wanted to spend every second with Vesper, and yet at the same time she knew she ought to be patient. She ought to go slow to give her heart a chance to get used to actual affection. She ought to let things develop between them at their own rate, because now she knew that they would. She knew Vesper felt the same way she did, and the knowledge was profoundly freeing. All she had to do was enjoy it.
But that didn't altogether stop her from trying to fan the flames just a little.
Vesper had just arrived at Leah's table in the saloon, where she'd been nursing a wine and a salad, when the artist decided to make a move. "It must be cold in your farmhouse," she said, letting the disingenuousness seep into her tone as she rested her chin in her hand to regard Vesper. She'd already had a couple drinks, and she was feeling bold. And hot. In a few different senses. "You can always come huddle under a quilt with me and drink cider." She made sure her meaning was clear in the pull of her smile and the weight of her gaze.
At least, she thought she did.
"It's not, really," Vesper said from the seat beside her, and for a split second Leah was disappointed—right up until the farmer smirked crookedly and leaned in close like she was sharing a secret and whispered, right by Leah's ear so the breath tickled her skin, "but I'd be glad to come huddle under a quilt with you anyway."
Leah laughed breathlessly, a little surprised at the deft return of her flirtation. She'd known that Vesper was good at a different kind of flirting; the kind full of genuine compliments and sweet gestures and thoughtful gifts—but it turned out she could be a little naughty, too. Leah couldn't help the huge grin that found its way across her face. "It's my birthday on Thursday, you know," she mentioned, leaning over so her shoulder bumped against Vesper's.
"Oh, I know." The farmer wrapped an arm around her proffered shoulders and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. "So it's a date, then?"
"Bring something strong." Leah bit her lip in an attempt to tamp down her silly smile, but it was a lost cause. She was just too happy like this; pleasantly buzzed, Vesper's arm around her, the lazy evening atmosphere soothing her senses.
"Don't I always?" Vesper replied roguishly with a smirk that dimpled her cheek. Then she pretended to have a realization, lifting her brows into a more innocent expression. "Oh, you meant to drink."
Leah giggled and nudged her in the ribs before returning to her own drink. Her farmer's arm stayed around her shoulders for the rest of the evening, and that's about all of it that Leah remembered. Except for their upcoming date, of course.
…
Thursday evening rolled around, and their date began just as they'd planned: in Leah's cabin, the two of them huddled under a quilt, as prescribed. They were not, however, drinking any sort of cider. Vesper had brought a bottle of homemade wine again, and apparently she'd been experimenting with the process, because it actually tasted like wine this time rather than toxic school supplies.
Leah told her so through a giggle as they cuddled up beneath the blanket, Vesper leaned against the armrest and Leah curled up almost in her lap. Vesper only grinned and flicked her on the nose, and Leah supposed she deserved it. As she recovered, she took a deep draught of the wine and let the complex flavors bloom on her tongue before swallowing. It really was good. Even if she was somewhat biased.
Leah had resolved to limit her drinking this evening, though, considering what had happened last time. Although the risk of her embarrassing herself had lessened thanks to their newfound closeness, she wanted to be fully in possession of her faculties tonight. She wasn't expecting anything huge to happen, of course, but as a rule she didn't want to miss out on any of her time with her favorite person. And if something huge did happen, that was all the more reason to be as present as possible.
So, Leah finished her current glass—her second; she was keeping careful track—and placed it on the table, out of easy reach. Her cheeks felt flushed with a combination of the alcohol and her present company, and she was feeling the hint of pleasant floatiness in her head that meant she was just buzzed enough. Once her hands were empty, she wrapped her arms around Vesper's middle and leaned against her chest with a sigh.
It was inexpressibly nice to be able to do things like this now without worrying what the gesture meant or how Vesper might react. Now, they knew what it meant, and they knew where they stood, and it was just such a relief that it still tended to knock the air out of Leah once in a while. She had trouble believing that it was reality, sometimes.
Vesper always seemed to know when she needed convincing.
Right now, the farmer reached up with her free hand and began threading her fingers through Leah's hair, coaxing it out of its long braid. With each pass, her nails scratched at the nape of the redhead's neck in a way that quickly set her to dozing. Leah was glad she'd put her wine down for fear that she might have dropped it. She tilted her head into the crook Vesper's neck and breathed in her earthy scent. She'd be perfectly happy if this moment never ended, she thought.
Vesper's chest rumbled against her as the farmer spoke up softly: "Remember the last time we did this?"
Leah chuckled into her skin. "No," she reminded, brushing a fond kiss against the line of Vesper's throat. "That was the whole problem, remember?"
The farmer snickered, fingers tightening momentarily in Leah's hair in a way that made her wonder whether she might be ticklish. Quickly, though, she sobered again. "I'm sorry I took so long to tell you about it. I thought you would be embarrassed," she murmured guiltily.
"Of course I was," Leah agreed, raising her head to meet Vesper's eyes shyly, "but it was worth it. Right?" Vesper certainly had nothing to feel bad about. Sure, she hadn't said anything, but anybody else would have done the same. Anybody else would have felt just as uncertain. Leah certainly would have. She would never blame the farmer for their miscommunication.
Vesper let out a weak noise of protest. "You have no idea how many times I thought I'd made a terrible mistake," she went on. Her gaze grew heavy; warm, and her fingers slid to Leah's jawline and traced it, achingly slow. "I wanted to kiss you so badly, too. I just wasn't sure…" She took a long breath in and out like her nerves hadn't quite settled in the wake of the memory. Then she shook her head slightly, displacing the thought, and ran her thumb lightly along Leah's lower lip. "And then I was afraid I'd never get the chance again."
"I know," Leah whispered. She knew because she'd feared it, too.
Vesper's thumb lingered, and on a whim the redhead pressed a gentle kiss to it, feeling the firmness of callouses beneath her lips. She pulled away slowly, eyes glued to Vesper's face to watch as the farmer's expression shifted toward something unmistakably intense. A shiver ran through one of them, but it shook them both. Leah reached up to wrap her fingers around the stem of Vesper's glass over the farmer's, raising it between them in a sort of half-toast. "To being a couple of idiots," she breathed before taking a drink.
"I'll drink to that," Vesper agreed in hoarse tones as she watched the artist's throat jump in a swallow. She took the glass back and finished it before setting it aside. With both their hands now free and both their minds dulled by alcohol, the air between them seemed to thicken and heat up. Vesper was the first to cross it. "Happy birthday, Leah," she whispered, leaning in, her fingers once again tangling in the artist's hair.
Yes, it absolutely was, Leah silently agreed as she surged forward and closed the distance in a kiss.
It was different, this time.
It wasn't just the fact that they were more comfortable in their relationship now. Nor was it the fact that they were completely alone this time with no threat of interruption, or the fact that they were practically tangled up together beneath a blanket on Leah's couch (okay, maybe that was part of it).
It was their intentions. It was the twisting, burning, aching feeling that had seized Leah's insides and caused her heartbeat to start throbbing in places she didn't dare acknowledge. It was the way Vesper's grip on her bordered on desperate; the way her fingers sought out the strip of exposed skin at her midriff and curled into it, making her gasp. It was the way neither of them could quite catch their breath in between steady deepening kisses, and the way neither of them seemed to mind.
Maybe something huge would be happening tonight, after all.
Leah was overwhelmed by every sensation clamoring for her attention right now; the heat and the ache and the uncertainty and the want, but her body seemed to know better than her head did. Without really knowing what she was doing, she pushed Vesper back against the cushions and climbed properly atop her lap, straddling her hips. The farmer made a surprised noise, but when Leah broke away, intending to ask if she was all right, Vesper pulled her right back in.
Okay, Leah thought, and even her mind's voice was breathless, this is happening.
She couldn't scrape together the awareness to feel nervous about that right now. She was too caught up in Vesper; her touch, her feel, the simple fact that it was her, the perfect, precious farmer of Stardew Valley that Leah was kissing right now. The fact that, for whatever reason, she'd fallen for Leah too. She wanted Leah too.
A shuddering breath left the artist's chest, and the unexpected prickle of tears rose to her eyes. She was tempted to let them fall, but she did not want to ruin this moment for the world. Instead she took Vesper's face in her hands and redoubled her efforts. The farmer matched the intensity of her touch willingly.
Blinded by the growing haze of desire blanketing her senses, Leah hardly registered the sensation of the suspenders slipping from her shoulders, or her shirt buttons yielding under deft fingers—hers or Vesper's, she didn't really know. She did, however, definitely notice when the farmer's hands gravitated to the newly bared skin of her torso as if magnetically. It was there that Vesper finally paused, letting her head fall back against the armrest so she could look Leah in the eye. The amber of her own was barely visible in a ring around swollen pupils, and she'd never looked more beautiful.
"Are you okay with this?" she asked, voice low and rough and enticing.
Leah took the chance to catch her breath and brush straggling red hairs out of her eyes. She was already a wreck, and all they'd done was kiss. "Yes," she responded with every ounce of certainty she could muster, pressing Vesper's palms securely to her exposed waist. Then she scanned Vesper's face, hesitating. "Are you?"
Vesper squeezed the curve of her flanks slightly, comforting, and replied, "Yeah. Just…" Her gaze slid off to the side, looking uncertain above flushed cheeks. She shifted on the couch and the motion had the unintended side effect of rubbing right against Leah's body, and she stifled a gasp. Vesper regarded her almost shyly from beneath dark eyelashes. "Bear with me, okay? This is kind of new."
The air rushed from Leah's chest. New? she wondered incredulously. Vesper had certainly seemed like she knew what she was doing. "You're doing great," she assured, maybe a little too enthusiastically.
Vesper giggled at the compliment. Then her smile mellowed into something warm and deep and happy, and she said softly as she ran a light thumb over Leah's skin, "I love you, you know."
Leah's heart tripped. At the same time, she felt lighter than air. She didn't know if she would ever get over how easily that phrase came out of Vesper's mouth; how easily she just believed it wholeheartedly. Part of her hoped not. She ducked her head in a halfhearted attempt to hide her silly, flustered grin and failed. "I love you, too."
Vesper returned it, which made her feel a little better. Then the farmer abruptly pushed herself upright, almost unseating Leah except for the hold she kept around her waist, and leaned in again. And—
Maybe it was the surprise that made the following kiss to her throat hit Leah so hard, or maybe it was just the fact that she was very sensitive by this point, but she physically jerked at the sudden shot of pleasure it caused her. Vesper hummed, pleased at her success, and began trailing a string of additional kisses down the curve of her neck. The feeling of her lips on the tender skin was powerful enough, but when she reached the crook of Leah's neck and bit—
A strangled noise escaped her. Vesper pulled back far enough to meet her eye, looking somehow both smug and concerned, and Leah panted for breath in the pause.
"I thought you didn't know what you were doing," she gasped out, accusing.
Vesper gave her that old crooked smirk of hers. "I'm a fast learner."
"No kidding."
The farmer's expression sobered a little as she chewed her lip uncertainly. Along with the redness in her cheeks and the brightness in her eyes, it made Leah want to kiss her more than ever. The feeling only intensified when she fielded tentatively, "Do you want to, um—to keep going?"
Leah let out a long, slow breath, trying to get a grip on her thoughts. Did she want to? That was the question, wasn't it? Her body said yes, obviously, but her body was not the only voice in the matter, no matter how drunk she was on wine and Vesper. Her head reminded her of Kel; of fear and regret and embarrassment. Her heart reminded her that this was all so new. But it also reminded her of every tender feeling she'd held toward Vesper since the second they'd met, and all the waiting and the confusion and the relief of finally dashing every obstacle away.
She loved Vesper. She didn't intend to ever stop. And she was right here within her grasp, so…
Why not?
"Yes," she said finally, barely a breath, cradling Vesper's face with a gentle hand so she could hold those shining eyes, "but we don't have to. We're in this together, okay?" She slid that hand around to the back of the farmer's head and ran her fingers through unkempt navy waves. "What do you want?"
Vesper sighed, and it shook on the way out. She let her eyes drift shut and leaned in to Leah so their foreheads met. Her hands pressed warm against the skin of her torso. "I want you," she whispered so soft it was hardly audible, and it breezed against Leah's lips.
That was all she needed to hear before her inhibitions scattered to the wind. When she leaned in again to capture Vesper's lips, it felt different yet again. Against all odds, it was not about desire this time. It was not about the heat and the ache and the want. It was about love, and Leah wouldn't have it any other way.
"I love you," she murmured again, just for good measure, as she surrendered to her farmer's touch. And though Vesper didn't say it back this time, her meaning was clear in the way she held her; touched her; had her as evening darkened into night and the heat in the room only grew even as the fire in the hearth faded.
Leah couldn't have asked for a better gift.
…
Leah was standing at the stove flipping an omelet when Vesper walked in the front door, still smelling strongly of freshly cut grass from the field.
"Hey, flower," she announced her presence in case Leah hadn't immediately gathered it was her. The redhead heard the twin thuds of Vesper's boots coming off and the rustle of her hat on the coat rack and sighed contentedly. This, she could get used to. This, she could spend the rest of her life doing and never get tired of it: living effortlessly alongside her favorite person, every day just the same, but comfortable, never boring.
Vesper's soft footsteps drew closer. At the kitchen table, they paused. "What's this?" came the curious question.
Leah didn't know what she was talking about for a split second before it hit her and her heart dropped into her toes and she turned just in time to see the farmer reach for her sketchpad and flip to the latest page, too late to protest, "No wait, don't—!"
She could tell the exact moment when Vesper registered what was on the most recent page, because she went incredibly still. "Oh," the farmer murmured very softly, the look on her face perfectly shocked. Leah held her breath in anticipation of the moment that her shock would turn to anger or disgust or disappointment and she would walk right out the door, never to return. Her grip was white-knuckled on the spatula and she knew her face must be the same color as Vesper's eyes raised slowly to her own. Leah opened her mouth with a thousand apologies on the tip of her tongue, but then she froze when she saw the look on the farmer's face. Vesper was…smirking? It was a crooked little thing, curling higher on the right so a little laugh line dug into her cheek, and Leah was reminded exactly why she'd drawn the dangerous image now exposed to the world. The farmer's next words were virtually a purr: "I see."
All the breath rushed out of Leah, and with it came the apologies anyway. "I'm so sorry. This is so embarrassing. I didn't think anyone would see—"
"Oh, so it's just for your own benefit?" Vesper cut her off, brows lifting mischievously, and this was so much worse than anger. Anger, Leah knew how to weather. How to handle. But this—
"It's not like that!" she shrilled, feeling her cheeks burn hotter than the stove she was cooking on. But Vesper kept holding her gaze, and the sketchbook was still open to that drawing, and Leah was in no state to hold onto her composure for long. She let her shoulders slouch and confessed weakly, "…not exactly." Oh, she was going to die on the spot.
The farmer took another glance down at the sketch—the very detailed sketch of herself in a very compromising position—and then back at Leah. She leaned her hip against the table as if she intended to stay awhile. "I'm listening," she prompted, the smirk audible in her voice.
Leah was trapped. She dropped the spatula onto the counter so she could bury her face in both hands. Surely she could cook the rest of dinner with her cheeks alone. "I-I just—" she struggled for a suitable excuse; for what on earth had made her think drawing that particular picture was a reasonable thing to do, and couldn't come up with anything better than the lame, lovesick truth: "I think you're beautiful. I like to draw beautiful things."
"Naked," Vesper added incredulously.
"Ugh!" Leah would fold in on herself and disappear if she could. Or simply melt on the spot. It felt like that might happen soon. "It—it's an anatomy study." Her voice sounded much higher than it was supposed to.
"Is that why you're the color of a tomato?" the farmer teased.
"Vesper," groaned Leah, a plea for mercy.
The other woman chuckled softly in her throat and—thank Yoba—let the pages of the sketchbook fall back into place. The kitchen chair creaked as she lowered herself into it. "Relax, flower," she soothed, no trace of judgment in her voice. "If I could draw, I'd draw you naked too." She flashed another rakish smile and held out one hand to Leah, inviting her closer.
The artist sighed heavily, still feeling like she'd flown a little too close to the sun, but stepped forward and placed her own hand in Vesper's. She didn't resist as the farmer pulled her gently in, laying kisses along her reddened knuckles. She did feel the need for one last weak protest: "The term is nude."
"Mhmm." Vesper effectively dashed all remaining thought as she ghosted her lips up the inside of Leah's arm, then released her hand to wrap her own around the artist's waist. Once Leah was close enough, those roaming lips found the strip of exposed skin at her midriff and began feathering toward her belly button. Leah fought off a hearty shudder and threaded needy fingers into Vesper's hair, inviting her—urging her to continue. The farmer let out a laugh that brushed warm against Leah's skin before closing her lips over her belly button and sucking softly. And—
Yoba, that went straight to her core. Leah let out a ragged sigh and gave in to Vesper's gentle tug on her hips, sliding onto the farmer's lap so her kisses trailed slowly higher: up her sternum, between her breasts, to her neck, where they landed and pulled at the skin again. Leah was steadily losing all awareness of anything but the farmer's attention, and it was all she could do to grip her solid shoulders and keep from melting into a much more pleasurable puddle than before. She wasn't quite sure when her eyes had slipped closed, or when her mouth had fallen open. She was past caring.
The farmer gave a satisfied hum against the soft spot behind the corner of her jaw. "I could pose for you, if you want," she murmured there, intentionally teasing her lips against Leah's skin, and Leah lost the ability to breathe for a few seconds. When her air returned, it was with a thread of a moan. She felt more than heard Vesper laugh against her again. "Or we could try something more hands-on." The demonstrative climb of her hands up Leah's spine was enough to start her shivering all over.
And Leah was one hundred percent about to take her up on that offer, but a sudden, urgent thought came careening to the front of her mind—on the waft of smoke that hit her nose.
"Oh, no! The food!"
In a second Leah was on her feet and lunging for the stove, where she found her omelet browned a few miles past golden and the pan smoking into the chimney. "Stupid!" she cursed herself as she grabbed the pan and virtually threw it onto the nearby oven mitt for it to cool, then threw the stove switch to off. It still smelled like smoke. That wasn't going to filter out for a while. She lowered her reddened face into her hands, groaning miserably. How had she been so careless?
A hand on her back reminded her how. When she didn't resist, Vesper stepped up behind her and slid that hand fully around her waist, giving a brief, comforting squeeze. "Sorry, flower," she said by Leah's ear, chin resting on her shoulder. She genuinely sounded embarrassed. "That's my fault."
Leah sighed out her tension and leaned her head against the farmer's. She supposed it wasn't really that catastrophic that dinner was burned, she just…had wanted to do something nice for her partner, and when things got distracting it totally slipped her mind. "You'd better eat it still," she said, halfheartedly scolding. It was sort of Vesper's fault. Not that Leah had minded the interlude at all. Or done anything to stop it.
Vesper laughed good-naturedly and gave Leah's cheek a peck. "Of course I will," she agreed, "as long as you eat it too."
"Fine," Leah pretended to grumble, but turned her head to catch the farmer's lips in a proper kiss, if a bit awkward from the angle. She couldn't stay mad over something like this. She reached down to lace her fingers with Vesper's across her own stomach, gave a fond squeeze, and then pulled gently out of her embrace. "Have you got the plates?"
Vesper retrieved them, and they went about dishing out their slightly less-than-flawless meal.
They finished it all. It was burned, but it was worth it.
…