Disclaimer: I own no rights whatsoever to Noir
I ... er ... think I originally intended for this fic to go somewhere, but it refused to. So it's just become...this, a short on Mireille's thoughts about Kirika and their post-Manor relationship.
Also, this is my first piece of fanfiction in two years...inspired mainly by reading so much other stuff on this site...and this piece is quite cringe-worthy. Even the title is...urrggh... Enjoyment is not guaranteed. :P
Mireille stirred as the first rays of morning sunlight warmed her pillow through the unshuttered windows. She opened her eyes, gingerly, shifted her arm slightly – it brushed against something soft, warm. Kirika's small, dozing form lay beside her in the bed. A smile tipped Mireille's lips as she sat up, bent over slightly, planted a gentle kiss on Kirika's forehead. The girl's eyebrows furrowed for a moment, but she sighed and kept on sleeping.
Mireille's smile did not fade as she surveyed her partner's face; the delicate youthful features, the shadows stirring behind her eyes that belied such apparent innocence, the endearing look of drowsy peace. A few strands of hair fell over her mouth, fluttering ever so slightly as she breathed. For once, perhaps......... she looked serene, content. Mireille kissed her again.
It hadn't always been this way. Once upon a time…
She remembered the return from their fateful time at the Manor, the physical struggle to carry their wounded bodies back to her car. It was probably only a moment of suspension in the rollercoaster of drama and emotion, two young women wearied from feeling and from fighting, slightly afraid, yet daring to believe that, for the time-being at least, it was over.
Mireille had felt a little uneasy at first, supporting Kirika's injured body as they walked. It had not been the first time, but she knew this was different – she took Kirika in her arms this time not as a mere partner in killing but as a friend, a mother, a guardian...
...a lover?
She, who had never been allowed to love.
Kirika, who had never had anyone to love.
Neither of them were well-placed to understand these feelings, the sense of the deeper bond they shared, now that Mireille knew she must break her promise in order to fully mend both their lives. They were connected by something more than that black thread of Fate. For the first time, they were allowed each other, and in the rush of the new and unknown, it was hard for either of them to tell where the friendship ended and where something much more intimate began.
Not that that mattered much at the moment.
Mireille slid off the bed and slipped into some clothes, stroking Kirika's cheek and pulling the sheets up over her bare shoulders before moving into the kitchen to see to breakfast.
AN: BAH! Text problems....if this doesn't show up properly I'll kick something. ARGH!