Chapter Eight

In which there are secret moments in a crowded room

Content Warning:
Alcohol
Sexual Content

In the middle of getting ready, combing her hair out while sitting on the lanai, against the sound of the high tide, Cynthia's phone began to ring. Glancing down, her sister's name popped up on the screen.

Sliding to answer, she was quick to put it on speaker. "Hey," she answered.

"Hey," Kay answered, her tone indicating she was still feeling down.

"You good?" Cynthia asked.

"Are you by yourself? You're not on set or with costars or anything, right?" she asked.

Cynthia pulled a length of her hair aside, carefully working out a knot. "No, I'm still getting ready. We have an evening shoot, but I'm not heading out to Castelia for another half-hour or so. What's up?" she asked.

"You promise you're alone?" she followed up, a distinct change in her tone, setting off alarm bells of some sort for Cynthia.

"Yeah?" she answered.

"Okay, so like, when I last called you? Who were you actually with?"

Her whole body was instantly wrapped in a guilty flush.

Slamming the hairbrush down on the table, she picked her phone up, taking it off speaker. "What do you even mean? I was by myself," she defended.

"Uh-huh, right…" she said, clearly not convinced. "The, 'go back to sleep' followed by what I'm positive was you kissing someone was just my imagination."

So, she had overheard her when she failed to put her phone on mute.

There wasn't a single scenario she could think of where the honest answer wouldn't land her or Diantha in hot water of some kind. As much as she loved her sister, she was terrible at keeping secrets.

"You know, I think I actually read the call-sheet wrong, and I need to leave now, so I'll call you back later–"

"Don't you try to hang up on me! Just tell me! Was it Caitlin?"

She almost hit the end call button, but stopped herself at the last second, now both confused and intrigued. "Caitlin?" she asked.

"Well, I mean, it's pretty obvious she's always had a bit of a thing for you. I think she's a lot like me and has that whole, 'if you're into it I'm into it' thing I have with most of my friends," she answered.

Cynthia shook her head, not wanting to listen to any more of it. "I gotta go. I'm not seeing Caitlin, I'm not seeing anyone– don't– nothing, okay?"

She could practically hear the grin in her voice. "I dunno, you sound a little worked up over this. Oh, wait? Was it Diantha?" she asked, proceeding to then laugh at her own suggestion.

Cynthia felt her cheeks burning as she stood to begin pacing around the lanai. "Kay–"

She kept laughing. "Sorry, sorry, bad joke. I know she's dating some Hollywood pretty-boy, but I mean, hey, it's gotta be fun getting paid to kiss her, right?"

It barely calmed her nerves any. She was so close to the truth, but had only narrowly avoided it.

"I gotta go, Kay. Call me if you need me, but– I gotta go." She barely heard her responding, "Later" as she hit the end call button, not willing to risk another second of either embarrassing herself or having her sister stumble into the truth again.

Grumbling aloud, she slid her phone into her pocket, slinking down into one of the chairs.

It was going to be a long day…


– – – –

Elizabeth shoots back the last of her drink, setting it down with a slam. She gets up to stand directly behind Scarlet, putting her hands on her, mouth to her ear.

ELIZABETH

Why do I get the feeling he doesn't satisfy you the way I could?

Scarlet visibly shudders, sucking in a breath. She says nothing but does nothing to stop Elizabeth's hands from wandering.

Elizabeth's fingers dip below her pants line.

ELIZABETH

(CONT'D)

I'm only asking for once chance, Scarlet. He loves you like the selfish man he is. Let me show you what it's like to be worshiped.

SCARLET

Elizabeth…

ELIZABETH

Come home with me.

Before her hands can wander further, and before Scarlet can fall completely to temptation, Scarlet gets up, nearly knocking over the drink on the counter.

One of the bar patrons backs into her, sending her right back into Elizabeth's arms. Scarlet is quick to tear out of her grasp, heading towards an exit.

Elizabeth pursues her, catching her in the back hallway.

ELIZABETH

Scarlet! Wait!

Scarlet stops in her tracks, grabbing Elizabeth's arm before she can make any other move.

SCARLET

Don't think for a second that I don't want that, Elizabeth…

ELIZABETH

(moves in closer)

But…?

Scarlet shakes her head and tries to walk away. Just as she slips out of Elizabeth's grasp, Elizabeth pulls her back into a rough kiss, pushing her up against the wall. Lipstick stains her lips. She moves to kiss her neck.

Scarlet pulls away again. This time, Elizabeth doesn't stop her.

SCARLET

Give me time, Elizabeth…I just need time.

Elizabeth watches Scarlet hesitate in the doorway before making her exit.

Shrugging to herself, Elizabeth wipes her lip on the back of her hand and heads back into the bar. While waiting for her drink, she looks down at the back of her hand.

Camera focuses on the smear of red on Elizabeth's hand.

FADE OUT

– – – –


On the surface, Cynthia had been aware that the scenes they were to be filming for the day were going to be difficult for a number of reasons. Lita was to be the head director for the scene, and with how she ran a tight ship, there was little room for error.

Of all, having to get handsy with Diantha in front of at least twenty extras and multiple cameras was the most difficult hurdle she saw for the day.

All of which she was right about.

Except the number of extras in the room. The number was probably closer to fifteen, but in the haze of her anxiety, it felt closer to fifty.

"Cut!" Lita called from offset, causing Cynthia to jump from where she stood behind Diantha.

Cynthia wanted to run her hand through her hair, but stopped herself at the last second, not wanting to undo all of Dezerea's hard work at wrangling it. Instead, she sat back down on her own stool with a heavy sigh, resting her head in her hands.

"Cynthia, would you get it together? I wanted this to be done in no more than fifteen takes! We're on take ten, and I'm not seeing any improvement!" Lita chastised from across the room. Around take five she had stopped approaching her to see what was wrong, too exasperated to even be bothered at that point.

From beside her, Diantha huffed, turning herself in her chair to put a reassuring hand on Cynthia's shoulder. "Darling, talk to me."

It was all beginning to add up to be the perfect storm for Cynthia's anxiety. The more she thought about how many people were around them, watching, and the more frustrated Lita became with her, the closer to puking she came. A few times she had contemplated walking off the set entirely, too frustrated with herself to continue.

"I can't do this, Diantha," she said, loud enough only for her to hear. Weeks of confidence building was slipping through her hands.

It was a look Diantha was all too familiar with. Cynthia was a Deerling in the headlights, and she was threatening to full on freeze. She was also acutely aware that her confidence was slipping.

Trailing her hand down, she grabbed her gently by the elbow, motioning for her to get up. "Come with me," she said, keeping her voice down, not wanting to draw in more attention from any onlooking extras.

Cynthia followed her without complaint, if only because she was too anxious to form the words needed to.

The crowd parted for them, opening a path towards Lita, who stood by, watching the playback on the screen below her. With a shake of her head, she looked up to meet their eyes, focusing on Diantha.

Cynthia took notice of how she shifted her focus to Diantha, taking it as a sign of how done with her she was for the day.

"Lita, would you be a dear and give us a quick break? I'm positive I can talk her through this," Diantha asked.

She rolled her eyes, giving a flippant wave of the hand. "Please do," she said.

Cynthia would have rather been punched directly in the stomach by Lita than listen to a tone that indicated she was displeased with her.

"Thank you," Diantha said, distracting Cynthia from her continuing downward spiral as she grabbed her hand to lead her away from the set.

The office building directly across the alleyway to the bar had a few meeting rooms that had been rented out and turned into dressing rooms for the cast, and Diantha's would have to make do for the time being.

The outside air was warm and humid. Ever since the storms had rolled through, the days had progressively gotten warmer and warmer– a stark contrast to the frigid building they stepped into.

Peering around the room, her makeup artist was nowhere to be found, and the building was quiet apart from the gentle sound of the air conditioning.

She guided them to the couch against the wall, having Cynthia sit next to her, a neutral distance between them.

"Breathe with me," she instructed.

Cynthia brushed her bangs aside. "Diantha, I don't think–"

"Breathe," she said more firmly, making an upward motion with her hand, leaving no room for argument.

While the exercise might have gone better with Roserade's assistance, knowing they were on a time crunch, Diantha was going to only take what she could get.

"Now, I want you to tense everything," Diantha said after their last exhale. "Ball your fists, furrow your brow– tense up every part of your body and hold it." She closed her eyes as she followed along, trying to lessen any sense of self-consciousness Cynthia might experience, knowing the exercise always made her feel that way when with her previous counselor.

Tense to the point of everything hurting and shaking, she heaved a sigh when Diantha finally told her to relax.

"Better?" Diantha asked, stretching her arms out in front of her.

With a few breaths, Cynthia nodded, looking back up at her, aware that she was no longer too anxious to even make eye contact. The anxiety was still there, but it had taken a noticeable backseat. "Quite a bit, actually." She watched as Diantha moved to the edge of the cushion, their knees now touching. "Thank you, Diantha."

She smiled, resting a hand on her knee. "Of course."

"I'm probably the most annoying costar you've had to work with, huh?" she asked, allowing herself to find comfort in the simplicity of Diantha's hand on her. They had yet to revisit what had almost happened at the villa, and there was enough of a shift in the air between them she felt it might stray into that territory again. It made her equally anxious, but it was at least an anxiety she could handle.

Diantha laughed, squeezing her knee. "Oh, please. You're hardly the worst. I told you, I've had costars where once the cameras stopped rolling, we were instantly at one another's throats. We even had to get a mediator involved."

Cynthia breathed a laugh. She was thankful their initial argument hadn't led to that.

"Anyways, let's talk this out. If we can figure out your hang-up with this scene, I'm sure we can get through this without any trouble."

It was all turning out to be quite the conundrum for Cynthia. On one hand, she was scared of the truth. She knew her multiple hang-ups with the scene, and was scared to voice them. Scared to let Diantha know just how badly she wanted to touch her, just not in the way the script called for.

On the other hand, she was desperate to tell her the truth. By that point she was positive they were on the same page regarding feelings towards one another. While she wasn't positive how deep those feelings ran for Diantha, she felt safe saying they both physically wanted one another. After what was essentially an invitation to watch her undress following their night in Striaton was more than enough proof of that for Cynthia.

"My hang-up is– It's the whole putting my hands in your pants when it feels like there's people watching. That's– It's just not something I would do," she admitted, going with the option that would at least get it all out of the way.

Diantha nodded, taking back her hand to clasp them together at her front. "Ah! I was thinking it might be something else, but– this is fine. We can work with this." She adjusted herself on the couch, bringing a knee up between them. "My darling, it's okay that it's not something you would do, but it is something Elizabeth would do. I mean, look at my character. Scarlet wields a gun! Do I look like the kind of woman who would ever carry a gun in real life?" she asked, getting a genuine laugh out of Cynthia.

"Admittedly, no," she answered, voice tinged with a laugh.

"I mean, Cynthia," she continued, leaning back into the couch, the tension from their bad takes easing away. "Excluding other roles, and all the time I had to spend on a gun range to get ready for this role the first time, I've seen a real gun maybe…four times in my life," she said after a little thought. Thankfully, none of those situations had been dangerous ones.

"You had to spend time on a gun range?" Cynthia asked, momentarily distracted.

She nodded. "Yes, about two months. Did you know that the whole 'gunshot flash' thing isn't even real? It's a complete Hollywood fabrication–" She paused, realizing she was completely off topic. "I'm getting sidetracked, anyways." They were still on a time crunch and sidetracking to gun facts she learned in those two months wasn't conducive to anything.

At the very least, Cynthia was amused, situating herself to mirror Diantha's position, resting against the arm she put over the back of the sofa.

"What I'm getting at is you should try to stop thinking about how you wouldn't do that. It's completely okay; but it is what Elizabeth would do– and trust me, all the extras in the room barely give a damn about what we're going. They're just happy to be getting paid. Believe me. I was them once."

Cynthia thought on it all some more, trying to commit her words to memory, reminding herself that none of it was a reflection of her person. Just because she was acting as Elizabeth didn't mean she condoned anything that was happening. It was acting. None of it was 'real'.

Though, she eventually circled back to what Diantha had first said. "What did you think my problem might be?" she asked.

Diantha smiled, looking away to the vase of flowers that sat across the room. "I thought the hallway might have been what was troubling you."

They had yet to make it to the cutoff where they would transition into the hallway. Given what was to happen there, she naturally assumed all her problems were with that section of the scene.

The office space around them seemed warmer as she began to answer. "I thought you might have been a little scared to kiss me, is all," she answered.

At that, Cynthia wanted to laugh. To laugh whole heartedly, because it wasn't that she was scared to kiss her. It was the sheer fact that she had wanted nothing else for the better part of their time together, and it was how badly she wanted her that scared her– terrified her even. She had wanted people in the past, but all of those wants paled in comparison to how badly she wanted Diantha.

If she allowed herself to be melodramatic about it, she might even consider the feeling something akin to soul-crushing.

"I'm definitely not scared to kiss you," she answered all too quickly. "If anything I'm–" and by that point her conscience had caught up to her, warning her she was about to say far too much. "–going to shut up, actually."

Diantha didn't have to read far into it to know exactly what Cynthia almost said. The color rising to her cheeks as she bit her lip –Diantha knew exactly what she had meant.

"Positive you're not afraid to kiss me?" she asked, giving her one last out as she moved closer. One last chance to reject her, knowing there was no turning back if they finally gave in to one another.

"Positive," she answered, taking a shallow breath to stele her nerves.

With only a breath between them, Diantha posed to her, "then kiss me."

No sooner than the words had left her mouth, Cynthia's lips were on hers, tentative at first, only to have the initial shyness tossed aside the second they parted.

With a small giggle, Diantha was quick to pull her back in.

The feeling of her smile against her lips was enough to ease the tension out of her body, replacing it with a burning want. Anticipation replaced anxiety, her stomach flipping when Diantha pulled away again, still afflicted with giggles.

"I'm sorry– I just– I've wanted that for so long, and I just–" Normally, she might have been upset at her inability to speak, but for now, she was content to ride the high of finally getting to kiss her.

"Me too," Cynthia barely managed.

In the back of their minds, they knew they were still on a schedule. There were things they had to get back to. The sooner they got filming over and done with, the sooner they could get back to this, but in the heat of the moment, neither of them could be bothered by any of it.

In one fluid motion, Diantha threw a leg over Cynthia to straddle her, digging her fingers in her hair as she pulled her in for another kiss. Her hands were hot on her thighs, reminding Diantha how desperate she was to know how good she was with her hands.

If she played her cards right, she knew she stood a chance at getting that answer instead of just having to fantasize about it after a long day of filming.

"My dear, I think we should have a conversation after filming tonight," Diantha said, leaning away to give Cynthia access to her neck.

"One we probably should have had a while ago, huh?" she asked, kissing just below her jaw.

"Better late than never, I suppose," she said, struggling to keep her voice even, gasping in a way that was music to Cynthia's ears.

Just as Cynthia moved a hand to the hem of her shirt, a loud knock at the door shot the two apart, Diantha nearly falling off the couch all together in her scramble to get off her, Cynthia doing her best to catch her.

Thankfully, nobody entered.

"Lita says to be ready in five," the PA said through the door.

"Will do," Diantha answered.

Allowing a few seconds of silence, when it was clear the PA had left and they were once again alone, they both let out a mutual sigh of relief, followed up with some laughter as they resituated themselves on the couch.

Reaching up, Diantha busied herself with fixing Cynthia's hair. "Now you just have to essentially repeat all of that in front of a camera," she joked, cupping her cheek when Cynthia rolled her eyes.

"Don't remind me." She doubted she would be able –or willing even– to repeat all of that in front of a camera. Sure, she felt far more confident, but recreating what they had just done would be going off script at the very least.

Pulling her in, Diantha left a quick kiss on her cheek. "Everything is going to be just fine, my dear. We'll get through this, and it will be over before you know it." Then they would be free to do other things.

But first…

"Let me fix your makeup before we go out, though. At least after this if I get a little red on you, it won't be cause for suspicion." With a little digging around her own makeup bag, she had them both fixed up in no time, no sign of anything amiss. Hopefully, anyways. Getting anything by either of their makeup artists was going to be a challenge, but a bridge they would cross when they got to it.

Diantha took a step back from Cynthia, assessing her work. "Ready to put your hands on me?" she asked.

Cynthia laughed through her nose. "I think we crossed that line alright," she said.

Hand on her hip, Diantha gave her a lookover. "Are you ready to put your hands in my pants when there are people around us?" she rephrased, enjoying the rising color to her cheeks.

"We should get going." They were close to their five minutes, anyways.

She giggled, walking with her towards the door. "You're too easy to tease, my dear Cynthia." She paused, watching Cynthia open the door for her. "Though, if it helps any, I at least wore good underwear," she added with a wink, squeezing her hand as she walked past her.

"Good to know," Cynthia said, trying to not betray any emotion one way or the other, but failing miserably. The squeeze of her hand she returned was probably too strong. Flustering her at every given opportunity seemed to be Diantha's goal anyways.

Returning to set, once everything was set up, and all of the extras were corralled, they took their places for the scene.

"Quiet on set!" A hush. "Take eleven!"

Hand on the rim of her glass, Cynthia swirled its contents again, dreading to have to swallow it all in one go. She did so, regardless, her distain towards its texture easily masked as the burn of whiskey.

With a slam of the glass on the counter, the ice rattled audibly.

Diantha glanced at her, but didn't move from her seat as she stood. She felt the presence of one of the cameras directly on them, but forced it aside as much as possible, trying to tell herself that it was just her and Diantha in the moment. Elizabeth and Scarlet.

Messing up her hand placements, instead of her shoulders, her hands both went directly for her waist. Heart pounding her in her chest, she carried on as if it were the plan the entire time.

"Why do I get the feeling he doesn't satisfy you the way I could," she asked, tightening her grip on her waist.

Diantha breathed hard, a visible shudder wracking her body. Her grip on her drink loosened as her hands began to wander.

More than anything, Cynthia hated the continued presence of the camera that was right on them. Nevertheless, she persisted.

With a hand at her stomach, she moved down, fingers dipping below her waistline until she just barely felt the hem of her underwear; a soft lace texture.

She certainly hadn't lied about them being nice.

Too far, she still warned herself, knowing they couldn't risk actually making a scene.

"I'm only asking for once chance, Scarlet. He loves you like the selfish man he is. Let me show you what it's like to be worshiped," she said, voice low.

Biting her lip, it was all she could do to stay in character. Never had she held a role where it was consistently so difficult to do so, but then again, never had she wanted one of her costars so badly.

"Elizabeth," she gasped, barely able to keep in her character voice.

"Come home with me," Cynthia followed up, mouth to her ear.

"Cut!" Lita called, the second her other hand began to wander.

Cynthia pulled back in an instant, expecting to have done something wrong, but when she looked back at Lita, for the first time all day she wore a bright grin.

They had finally reached the first cutoff.

"You two," Lita said, looking at the camera operators. "Get out of the way! And you two!" she said, pointing at them. "Keep up the momentum!"

The two camera operators that had been all but on top of them finally backed away from the shot, moving to where they wouldn't be in the full view when Diantha was to stand up and leave.

The take and scene numbers were called before either of them knew it.

Taking her cue, Diantha got up from the barstool, knocking the remainder of her drink over as she stumbled out of the barstool, feeling every bit of flustered as she was sure Scarlet was supposed to. Maybe even more so.

If it was an offer from Cynthia, not Elizabeth, she certainly didn't mind the idea of being worshiped a little later.

As planned, one of the extras backed into her, sending her straight into Cynthia's arms. Her hands went right for her hips, bringing up fresh memories of her dressing room.

Pulling out of her grasp, she began to make her way towards the exit.

"Scarlet! Wait!" Cynthia called out. They had a few other scenes like it, but she still found it odd to be yelling while all the extras were being as quiet as possible, only pretending to talk. Their background noise would be filled in during editing.

In the hallway that was actually just a partitioned part of the bar, away from all of the extras, it was finally just the two of them. Well, the two of them, the camera operator, and the rest of the crew off to the back.

Cynthia grabbed Diantha's arm, to which she was quick to reel back on her. "Don't think for even a second that I don't want that, Elizabeth, but…" she trailed off.

Cynthia moved closer, keeping a soft grip on her arm. "But…?" she echoed.

Looking into her grey eyes, Diantha shook her head. Again, she began to walk away, but had already prepared herself to be pulled back in and pressed up against the wall.

Without meaning to, Cynthia about knocked the breath from her, swept up in the feeling of getting to kiss her again.

When Cynthia pulled away to kiss her neck, she moved a hand to the back of her head, pulling her closer. It wasn't in the script, but it likely wouldn't matter to Lita. She didn't block the shot, and she was able to refrain from reacting too much.

Begrudgingly, she pushed Cynthia off her, stepping away as she was scripted to. "Give me time, Elizabeth," she said in a breath. "I just need time."

With that, she left, walking towards the camera to the implied exit. Once a safe distance away, she turned to watch the rest of the scene play out.

Within less than a minute, it was over.

"Fuckin' hell, you two!" Lita said after barely remembering to call cut. She looked to Diantha. "I don't know what the hell you said to her, but I wish you would've said it like…ten takes ago!"

She looked to Cynthia as she approached them, a glimmer in her eyes. "I probably should have. Too late to change that now, I suppose."

Lita continued on, too excited to catch any of her innuendo. "Okay, things: some wrong hand placements, but I think I liked them better anyways. Really, so long as you're not blocking the shot, I couldn't care less. Keep it up. You–" She looked to Diantha "–know I'm not a stickler for canon. Whatever you think your characters are feeling, go with it." She then looked to Cynthia, assessing her face, and then to Diantha's neck. "Let's get that red off you both, and see about doing this a few more times. I think that was a solid run, but I want you to really shove her into the wall. You seemed like you were being too careful, got it?"

"Sure thing," Cynthia responded, not thrilled. She already thought she had gone overboard the first time, but instead it had come across as being too gentle. She looked to Diantha. "Just let me know if I'm ever too rough, okay?"

"Of course, my darling," she said, her voice silky enough to where Cynthia was sure there was an underlying meaning in there somewhere.

The rest of the evening proceeded far smoother. A few messed up lines here and there, a few changes in where their hands ended up, and a few teases from Dezerea every time she fixed Cynthia's makeup, but all in all, things were finally progressing.

However, on what was supposed to be their last take, Diantha was the one to finally mess up. Pent up in about five different ways, she found herself struggling to even remember Scarlet's voice. She was desperate for Cynthia to break everything and stop freezing when she barely even touched her underwear. In a desperate need for friction, and losing herself completely to her touch, instead of saying Elizabeth's name, she said Cynthia's. "Fuck– Sorry–" she said, burying her face in her hands.

Cynthia's cheeks were bright red, showing through her makeup, and Lita called cut with a hearty laugh.

Cynthia was quick to retract her hands, trying hard to not show how amused she was. Amused and turned on; an interesting combination, but hearing her name said like that was going to haunt her for a while.

"Let's try that again, and this time, say the right name, Diantha!" Lita directed, still laughing to herself.

Diantha refused to look at anyone. "Will do," she said, voice still a bit shaky.

Sitting next to her, while everyone got resituated, the extras around them began to chatter. Hoping it would go unnoticed by anyone, Cynthia leaned in, nudging her with her elbow. "How hard would I have to press my luck to get a repeat of that, later?" she asked, telling herself she was only being so bold because she was still in Elizabeth's head.

"Not very, because I'm contemplating dragging you back to my apartment the second she lets us out of here," she answered casually, enjoying turning the tables on her.

"You won't have to drag me if I'm a completely willing participant…"

They parted to get ready for what was hopefully the last take, settling into the heat that sat low on both their bodies.

By the end of the take, they were both barely able to contain themselves with how much they wanted to leave.

They stood side-by-side as Lita gave her closing remarks, thanking everyone for their time and effort throughout the day. She cancelled the following day's shoot, deciding there was no reason to do any retakes –something Diantha had already anticipated her doing.

With that, she released everyone, chatter quickly taking place of her voice.

Diantha turned to Cynthia. "Let me grab my things from my dressing room, and I'll meet you outside. I might let you walk me home," she said.

It had certainly been the perk of filming in Castelia opposed to the original location in Nimbasa.

"Sounds good," Cynthia said.

Across the alleyway, they split off to their respective rooms. In Cynthia's, Dezerea was already waiting for her, a pack of makeup wipes in hand.

"Now, normally I would just hand these to you and be on my way," she said, leaning up against the makeup chair. "But I wanted to ask you something…"


While waiting for Cynthia out in the alleyway, Diantha busied herself with talking to any of the extras that had been bold enough to approach her. It was something that had been done for her when she was getting her start; a well-known actress had taken the time to talk with her and engage her. A simple gesture that had never lost its impact on her, and it was something she had promised herself she would do whenever the chance presented itself.

After a while, though, she found herself starting to worry. With how long Cynthia was taking, she worried she was getting cold feet.

As the last extra left her, she decided to check in on Cynthia, heading back into the building. At the end of the hallway, she was stopped as Dezerea walked out of the dressing room, shooting her a glance as she walked past, a quirk of her eyebrow and a repressed laugh.

Something about it brought about a hot flash of jealousy in Diantha, which she tried her best to push down when Cynthia stepped out of the room as well, coming to stand in front of her.

Looking up at her, she took notice of how all the red had been cleared from her face, and how nervous she appeared.

Cynthia looked off to the side, arms crossed, closing herself off. "So, I might have messed up," she said once she was sure they were alone.

For a brief moment, Diantha worried everything had gone to hell somehow. "How so?" she asked, crossing her own arms.

"Might have accidentally agreed to go out with some of the crew tonight because Dezerea made it seem like she knows there's something going on between us and I just– I panicked."

At that, Diantha's anxiety was released, an amused laughter taking its place. "I'm dying to know what she said to make you think that."

She hummed, her own worry yet to abate. "She asked if I had any plans tonight, but I guess I– I don't know– I avoided answering too much, and she said, 'Unless you've got plans with Diantha.' She said it in such a way and with a look that just made me feel like she knew something, and I just, again, panicked. Said I would ask you. Yeah."

She laughed again, carefully stepping towards her. "I'm curious: why are you worried if she knows?" she asked. She had her own reasons for worrying over that matter, but she wanted to know Cynthia's reasoning.

"I just." She paused to shrug. "Wanted to protect you. Your breakup with Mel still isn't public, and I just don't want to do anything to jeopardize your reputation. Mine can take a hit. I'm still enough of a nobody, at the end of the day, some bad publicity will blow over after a few months. I don't want you dealing with anything you don't have to just because I can't stop thinking about kissing you every other second right now."

Reaching out, Diantha took ahold of her wrist, forcing Cynthia to let down the arm guard she had put up. "While I greatly appreciate that, I don't want you stressing over it. I am fully aware of all the risks I'm taking with you, my dear Cynthia." She stepped even closer, pressing her body against hers. "Though, that judgement might be clouded by the fact that I also can't seem to stop thinking about kissing you as well."

To emphasize her point, she leaned up for a kiss, warmth in her chest spreading throughout her body, absolutely mesmerized by how soft her lips were.

"Why don't you go ahead, text me to let me know where you all end up going?" She stepped away to look down at herself. "If I'm going out tonight, I think I want to wear something a little more fun than this." It was finally warm enough for her sundresses, anyways.

"Gotta make sure I look bad next to you, huh?" she asked in a tone that was clear enough to be sarcasm.

Diantha rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, I could never. I could be dressed to the nines standing next to you in a t-shirt and jeans and I would pale in comparison."

"I absolutely doubt that," she said.

"Look, I will take any opportunity to wear a dress I can, and–" She shrugged "–Might be a fun opportunity to see how much I can rile you up. See which one of us caves first, tonight."

A challenge Cynthia could certainly get behind.

"I'll let you know," Cynthia said, leaning down to steal one last kiss, knowing they wouldn't be able to do again so for at least a few more hours.

Diantha hummed into the kiss, content to be right there with her.

The sound of a door somewhere opening split the two apart, and with a promise to see each other again soon, they parted ways, Cynthia heading out the building, and Diantha bringing out Gardevoir.

So long as they stayed around the city, Gardevoir wouldn't have any trouble teleporting them around.


Looking through her wardrobe, Diantha's eyes landed on a dress she had yet to wear. She had bought it at the end of fall, but with how cold it had been, she had neglected the piece. A simple cream sundress that had a small triangle cutout just above the navel. If memory served right, the dress's skirt twirled nicely, and she had a small purse that would go nicely with it.

She pushed it aside, suddenly worrying she was coming across too strongly. But as she kept looking through her closet, she came back to the garment more than once.

"This is just too much," she reasoned with herself. If they were going to continue whatever it was they were doing, they needed to at least remain under the radar for the evening. Showing up wearing a dress that practically said, "I'm only wearing this so you'll take it off" wasn't exactly subtle.

Then again, wearing a dress that said, "I'm only wearing this so you'll take it off" was exactly what she was wanting to get across to Cynthia.

Plus, the dress did have pockets, and in women's fashion, any dress with pockets was automatically superior in every possible way.

Somewhere between pockets and thoughts of Cynthia undressing her, she decided on the dress.

Refreshing her makeup and hair, she swapped out her mega charm from her necklace to a silver bracelet, giving herself one last lookover in her mirror. Satisfied with her appearance, she transferred some of the contents from her main wallet into her purse, finishing just in time for Gardevoir to return from overseeing her pokémon being fed in the courtyard.

"Thank you, my darling," she said, walking with her to the kitchen to help her load all the feeding bowls into the dishwasher. Normally, she would give everything a pre-wash in the sink, but since she was on a time crunch, it would be fine this once.

"Ready to go?" Diantha asked, figuring she would only bring Gardevoir with her.

She nodded in response before silently regarding her. Her resulting hum came across as a laugh. She had seen right through Diantha's intentions for the night.

"It's far too early to start making fun of me, darling," she joked, checking her phone to look over the text Cynthia had sent her.

"It's another multistory bar. I'm on the third floor whenever you get here."

With a grin, she sent off a reply saying she was on her way, slipping her phone into her pocket and turning to her pokémon. "Ready to go when you are, my dear."


The bar the crew had agreed on was called Sparkling Aria's, a water pokémon themed bar, with a Primarina being the bar's mascot. A blue hue sat over everything, and a sweet incense clung tightly to the air. Cynthia at least enjoyed it more than the smell of cigarettes that came with bars that allowed smoking.

She sat at the back of the third floor at a tall table. Dezerea had run into a few friends, leaving Cynthia to hang out with Kara and the other PA's while she waited for Diantha to arrive.

They all talked about how the day had gone, upcoming shoots, and eventually it dissolved into more idle chatter. At some point, Cynthia had all but tuned them out, only commenting when Kara was clearly looking for a response from her.

She was just eager for Diantha to show up.

"Oh, damn–!"

Cynthia flinched at the sudden outburst from Kara, but was overall too distracted to care. Diantha had arrived, bathed in the blue light and dressed in a way that had Cynthia feeling all sorts of things.

Kara leaned in beside her. "Isn't it just criminal how she goes around looking like that? I bet without even trying."

Taking a long sip of her water, she only spared a glance at her, not wanting to give away more than she was already about to. "Look, I can't help that my friend is so gorgeous, it kind of ruins my life."

Kara then looked away towards the bar, to the other PA she always hung out with, Katie, then back to Cynthia. "Oh, mood," she said, in a way that told Cynthia she was just as infatuated with her as she was with Diantha at that point.

Which, in hindsight, she realized she should have put together much sooner. She always had a feeling Kara wasn't straight, but it was nice to have that confirmed. Before she could comment on her surprise at how gay the crew was overall, Diantha finally took notice of them.

Her painted lips pulled up into a grin. While she loved having eyes on her, Cynthia's gaze was the only one she cared about for the evening.

Everyone might as well have been watching her, but she was only looking at Cynthia.

"Evening, darlings," she said, greeting the table, but still keeping her eyes on Cynthia.

She was met with a greeting from everyone, except Cynthia, who instead had her head resting on in her palm. "Took you long enough," she joked.

She gave a little huff, but all in good fun. "And to think, I was about to offer to buy you a drink seeing as you had to suffer that fake alcohol all morning."

She slid out from her chair, a quick wave to say goodbye to the table so they could walk together. "You don't have to because I'm buying tonight."

She nudged her as they made their way to the bar. "Absolutely not. I'm sure you paid the last time we went out," she said.

Cynthia laughed. "Actually, the last time we went out, Siebold paid, so that basically reset everything," she joked.

Diantha shook her head, seeing no point in arguing, deciding she would at least be the one to leave tips.

"You look stunning, by the way," Cynthia added, letting Diantha take the open seat at the bar, opting to stand beside her.

"As do you, my darling," Diantha said, leaning over to brush their arms together, long enough to know the undertone of it all, but short enough for any onlookers to only assume a friendly joke.

And so, the night continued that way: secret moments in a crowded room. Longing glances, and lingering touches that were entirely unnecessary as they made their way around the bar, socializing with their coworkers.

By the start of their second drinks, both were treading past the point of caring. When the opportunity presented itself, Diantha would put a hand on her arm when they met back up, lean too closely, and brush too much of herself up against Cynthia.

Sometimes they would stand back-to-back, holding onto one another's hand, not caring who saw.

After about two hours, their coworkers began to filter out, meaning they had been there long enough to make an appearance. Now it was just down to who would cave first.

As Cynthia slide past her one last time, a lingering hand on her waist, Diantha thought for sure she was going to be the one to cave.

Following behind her, she slid into the empty seat next to her, brushing her leg up against hers, not bothering to ensure a neutral distance. At that point, she was desperate for Cynthia's touch; and not just a lingering one.

"Fancy meeting you here," Cynthia said casually, resting her hand on Diantha's thigh. The cover of the bar top would keep away any prying eyes, but by that point she was equally as desperate.

"How are we fairing, my dear?" she asked, moving her legs wider, silently bidding Cynthia to move higher.

"Never better," she answered, making small circles along her inner thigh.

Diantha leaned in. "Really?" she asked. "Because it feels like you're about to take a page from Elizabeth's book and not care who is around just so you can get your hands on me."

She withdrew her hand bringing herself to stand up instead, her competitive nature taking control. "You should know by now I enjoy a good challenge. I won't be the first to ask to leave." Moving around her, she leaned up against the bar counter, looking down at her. "I may have lost our battle, but I'm not losing this. I'm going to enjoy every second of working you up."

Despite not having a hand on her, Diantha found herself writhing in her seat, enraptured with her low, silky voice.

Without thinking, Cynthia reached down, poking her stomach, getting a small giggle out of her. "Still loving that dress, by the way."

She crossed her arms, covering the slit in her dress. "I assure you, it looks better on the floor," she said, lining her knee up between Cynthia's legs.

"You can prove it to me by asking to leave," she said, looking her over slowly.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Diantha was absolutely sure she was going to have to be the one to cave. Cynthia was clearly feeling no anxiety from earlier in the day, and was determined to win.

She would let her just this once.

Before she could say anything, Dezerea had approached the bar, looping her arm through Cynthia's, dragging her away into the crowd with a laugh.

"C'mon, Cynthia, dance with me!"

Just drunk enough, Cynthia's mind struggled to keep up, only barely cognizant of the fact that she was being pulled away by Dezerea.

Looking back to Diantha, the miffed look on her face was enough to make Cynthia's heart sink.

"I'm really not much of a dancer," she said, bringing them to a halt.

Dezerea laughed, brushing her braids up over her head. "You think any of these drunk idiots in here are much of dancers, either?"

She laughed lightly. She didn't have to look around at everyone to know that nobody was truly 'good' at dancing. Confidence in one's ability to just have fun with it was more key than anything.

But she wasn't in the mood to have fun dancing.

She was in the mood to have fun continuing to flirt with Diantha until one of them eventually caved and was ready to leave.

"Really, I just– I'm not into dancing," she said, trying to give herself some sort of out.

Dezerea wasn't having it. She reached for her hand, bringing herself close enough for Cynthia to feel her body heat. "Girl, I'll back off, I just need you to tell me if there's anything between you two–"

"I don't–" but Dezerea cut her off before she could even scramble to think of some kind of lie.

"Cynthia, I saw the exact way she looked at me when I stole you away. If she didn't have such a sweetheart reputation to keep, Diantha would have absolutely pounced me– rolling her eyes and getting all huffy– please. I know jealous when I see it."

She didn't have much in the way of a response for any of it. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

She shrugged, continuing to move them further away from the bar, the bass starting to reverberate in Cynthia's chest. "I don't go around spreading gossip, but I do love being on the front end of it. I love knowing what is and isn't true."

With a quiet sigh, Cynthia relaxed her shoulders, which was enough to get her to let go. "Fine. In all likelihood, I'm going home with her tonight, and no, I don't know what the endgame is for the two of us, but that's a problem for later."

She threw her head back in a laugh. "I knew something was up. Especially when I found makeup on you earlier today that I know I didn't put on you."

Cynthia felt her cheeks burning.

"Good on you, babe," Dezerea said.

Cynthia watched as she took a step back, looking off to the side as if she was watching someone.

She was about to turn around to see who it was, only to be snatched away again, this time by Diantha.

"Pardon me, darling," Diantha said playfully, barely sparing Dezerea a glance as they left.

Distantly, Cynthia could hear her laughing as they made their way towards the terrace. The alcove by the its exit was a spot both of them had taken note of early in the night, noting how secluded it was from everything. The windows looked out onto the terrace, and with nobody out there, they were as alone as they could get.

Diantha held a firm grip on her hand, keeping Cynthia close. "I'll suck up my pride later and apologize for being jealous then, but right now, I just–"

A step ahead of her, Cynthia had already scoped out their surroundings, quick to make her move, pressing her up against the wall like they had back on set, but now lacking a script and an audience.

Diantha was quick to dig her fingers up into her hair, pulling her close, and guiding her lower towards her neck.

"Darling," Diantha said, mouth against Cynthia's ear.

She responded with a hum, moving to kiss her lips.

"We've made enough of an appearance here. My place or yours?" she asked, cradling Cynthia's face in her hands.

"I don't mean to invite myself over, but you're much closer."

Diantha laughed, smiling into another kiss. "I would probably be upset if you didn't invite yourself over. Make me wait until we flew all the way out to Undella," she said.

Cynthia laughed, reluctantly pulling herself away. "Let me go close my tab and we can get out of here."

Hand in hand, they made their way to the bar, figuring at that time of night, anyone still around was likely too drunk to care or remember seeing them together.

At the counter, while waiting for the bartender to bring the check, Cynthia caught Kara's eyes, who clearly had taken notice of Diantha's grip on her hand.

She said nothing, only grinning ear to ear, before returning her attention to Katie.

Cynthia didn't miss the way Katie had an arm around her waist, bringing a smile to her own lips.

"Can I also pay for Kara Daniels, and…what's Katie's last name?" she asked aloud, taking the check handed to her.

"McElroy," Diantha answered from beside her, digging through her purse so she could leave a tip.

The bartender laughed, "All her drinks are on Daniels' check. You sure?" he asked, giving her only one chance to back out.

Cynthia nodded. "Feeling generous." And proud. It was a good night for both of them.

"Aren't you sweet," Diantha said with a laugh beside her, snatching the check when it was brought to them. "I'm at least paying for something tonight," she said.

With an amused laugh, she let it slide, not bothering to make a deal out of it.

Checking the balance, Diantha left enough to cover a very generous tip, and no sooner were the two of them out the door.

The night air was cooler, but still held a distinct weight to it. The humidity was high, and had it been any warmer, it would have been too uncomfortable for Cynthia.

Diantha kept close, along with a tight grip on her hand as they weaved their way down the block.

Despite the hour, it was still crowded. It was all an oddity for Cynthia. Even Jubilife stilled after midnight. Castelia never seemed to truly sleep.

She looked down when Diantha squeezed her hand. "I might have said this before, but one of the things I love about Castelia City is how…" She paused to shrug. "Easily it is to go unnoticed. In Lumiose, or anywhere in Kalos really, I have to at least have some sort of security detail with me. Here, I can go out on my own as I please, and just…get lost in the crowd. I rarely ever worry about being recognized here."

Cynthia nodded. "It's nice to go unnoticed sometimes, isn't it?" she asked, not expecting a response.

They continued their walk in relative silence. A few, "excuse me"s here and there as they made their way through the crowds, never once letting go of the other.

When they turned the street Diantha's apartment complex was on, it was the first time Cynthia realized she paid any attention to the name of the street they were on.

Cornelia Street.

Maybe she was still a touch drunk –on alcohol or Diantha she wasn't sure– but something about the street name stuck out to her. It wasn't a street name she would be able to forget easily anytime soon. Cornelia Street would from here on out be linked to Diantha.

Being late enough in the night, no staff greeted them at the doors, and the lobby was as empty as the night Cynthia had played the piano, which still sat off to the side untouched, but was now properly roped off.

"Do you still want to come up with me?" Diantha asked, the second her hand fell off the elevator button, an insecurity of sorts rising in her chest, and a desperate need to make sure Cynthia had as many outs as she possibly needed.

"Do you want me to leave?" Cynthia in turn asked, her anxiety now competing with anticipation.

"No," Diantha answered. There were a lot of uncertainties that would surely follow, but at the very least, that answer she was certain of.

Cynthia squeezed her hand. "There is literally nowhere else I'd rather be, than here with you," she said. "And, like, I want you to know that we don't even have to do anything, I'm just– I'm happy just being next to you," she admitted.

"You're terribly sweet, I hope you know that."

The elevator pinged softly behind them, and no sooner did Diantha pull the two of them into it, hitting her floor number instinctively, and pulling Cynthia down into a hot, wet kiss, not willing to wait the entire ride up to do so.

Remembering exactly how long they had until they reached her floor, provided –praying– they had no interruptions, Cynthia was quick to reach down, grabbing fistfuls of her ass, lifting her up, setting her on the slim bar that lined the elevator cart, and using her weight to pin her there.

"Though, I guess I would be remiss if I didn't tell you how bad I want you," she said, breath hot against Diantha's skin.

She kept a firm grip on her, partially for balance and in an effort to keep her own composure. "If I didn't want you equally as bad, I might beg you to take me here," she breathed, gasping and writhing as Cynthia barely nipped the delicate skin of her neck.

"With how worked up you've been all night, I bet I could," she said, kissing down the neckline of her dress. It would be all too easy to just reach up the skirt of her dress and finger fuck her until she came right then and there.

Diantha laughed below her. "I insist we at least make it into my apartment," she said, though not at least slightly tempted by the idea.

Another time, she decided in her drunk haze.

Cynthia guided her down from the edge, taking the answer as final.

A moment or so later, the elevator pinged again, letting them off at her floor, the two barely able to keep their hands to themselves long enough for her to dig her key out of her purse to let them in.

Door closed and locked behind them, Diantha was quick to all but jump her, being the one to push her up against the wall this time. A shift that was easily welcomed by Cynthia.

They both fumbled and stumbled out of their shoes, Diantha throwing her purse in some direction while dragging Cynthia towards the couch.

Pushing Cynthia down onto the cushion, she crawled into her lap, grabbing her face and kissing her hard. "I need you to know, my dear, I only wore this dress tonight so you would take it off," she said.

In an instant, Cynthia's hand was at the back of her neck, fingers on the zipper of her dress. "Don't have to tell me twice," she said, tugging at the zipper to no avail, causing her to hesitate.

A laugh bubbled to the surface, Diantha leaning forward into her, reaching up to hold tight the top of her dress. "Try again, darling," she said between giggles.

She did, but still was unable to get the zipper to let go. "You would wear the most difficult dress to take off," she said, letting go when Diantha pulled away, watching as she turned herself around so she could have better access.

"I didn't have nearly as much trouble getting it on," she said, reaching up to pull her hair aside.

With a few tugs, the zipper finally came loose, easing down her back.

Standing up, Diantha eased the dress off letting it pool around her ankles, turning to face Cynthia now only in her underwear.

Cynthia swallowed hard, taking in the image of her bathed only in the moonlight that illuminated the apartment. "Oh, fuck me," she said, just barely above a whisper.

Diantha laughed low, crawling back into her lap, hands reaching for the hem of her shirt. "Believe me, darling, I'm trying."

Snagging her undershirt as well, Diantha pulled both over her head in one go, tossing it over the back of the couch.

Pulling her close, Cynthia enjoyed every second of the feeling of their skin against one another, a warmth that just couldn't be replicated.

Kissing down her neck to just above her breast, Diantha's hands were instantly in her hair, pushing down in an unspoken plea to keep kissing lower. She pulled back for just a second. "If anything is too much, tell me."

"The same goes to you, my–" Diantha hesitated for just a split second, realizing she was about to say an entirely different endearment. One that had more weight and meaning to it. One that she worried was far too much and far too soon. "Dear Cynthia," she finished.

Thankfully for her, it went unnoticed by Cynthia.

"If I do anything–"

Diantha was quick to silence her with a kiss. "Darling, I have wanted you practically since the moment I laid eyes on you that very first international meeting, and I have even fantasized about this recently– I am all yours."

Emboldened by the confession, Cynthia reached down to trace the hem of her underwear. "How recently?" she asked, kissing back down her chest, enamored with how unbelievably soft every part of her was.

"When you played the piano for me, aside from how lovely it was, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to know how good with your hands you are," she said, desperate to finally find out. "You have lovely hands, and I just– aahh," she gasped, already writhing from Cynthia's touch.

She hummed low as she carefully ran her fingers over her underwear, already warm and wet. "I know I worked you up at the bar, but fuck, babe."

It didn't slip past Diantha for even a second that it was the first time Cynthia, not Cynthia as Elizabeth, used an endearment towards her.

Despite how much she wanted to just tug aside her underwear and sit on Cynthia's hand, she instead stood, pulling Cynthia up with her. "Let's move to my bedroom," she said with a quick kiss.

Again, she didn't need to be told twice.

The second they crossed the threshold of her room, Diantha pulled her in by hooking her fingers in her pants, quick to unbutton them and slide them over her ass. For a second, she pulled away just enough to take in the beauty of the woman in front of her. Plain black underwear and bra, but to Diantha, she was absolutely stunning in every facet.

"My dear Cynthia, have I told you recently how gorgeous you are?" she asked.

"Don't think you have," she said, only if because she couldn't remember, too eager to get her hands back on her.

Reaching around, she moved a hand up to pinch the clasps of her bra. "You're the kind of gorgeous that makes me wish I could paint. You would forever be my muse," she said.

With a quick flick of her fingers, the clasp came undone, and the garment was quickly discarded off to the side.

"I just want to marvel at you for a moment," Diantha said, taking a gentle hold of her breast, watching her loll her head back as she made slow circles over her nipples.

She hummed. "Is that what we're calling it?" she asked, forgetting just how good a simple thing could feel.

Whether it was the distinct length of time it had been since anyone else had last touched her, the sheer fact it was Diantha touching her, or a combination of the two, an irrational and burning want had been lit under her skin.

"Marveling, worshiping, call it whatever you like, my darling," Diantha said, using one hand to tease the hem of her underwear, easing them off as she guided them closer to her bed.

"If marveling is what we're calling it, I think I want to marvel you, first," Cynthia said, not struggling with her bra in the way she had her dress. In one fluid motion, she had it off, and was pushing her down into the mattress.

Falling back on the bed, Diantha surrendered herself completely to Cynthia, her mind an absolute fog, no longer from the alcohol, but from the sheer high of having Cynthia on top of her, body heavy against hers as she kissed every inch she could.

With how long it had been since another person had satisfied her, Diantha knew she wouldn't last long. Cynthia's tongue swirling around her nipple was already a lot, but the second she began to pull her underwear off, Diantha already felt herself losing composure.

Small, slow circles to her clit, she pushed back into the mattress, relief on her lips. While nice, and would certainly get her off, she was desperate to be fucked.

With a quick adjustment of her hips, she lined herself up with Cynthia's fingers, the point clear to both of them.

"Please, my dear," she begged, ready to say or do anything for release. "Please–" she gasped, gripping Cynthia's shoulder hard at the feeling of her easing two fingers in her.

Cynthia leaned down, forehead to hers. "Relax, babe, I've got you," she whispered, kissing her temple.

Hot and wet, she could practically feel her pulse; wild and aching for more.

The use of an endearment was not helping. "Cynthia, please, I'm begging you, you're not hurting me, I–" In a split second she realized she knew exactly how to work her up. French.

Slipping into the language was easy enough, with it being her first. Begging to be fucked was even easier, and had a clear effect on Cynthia.

The second she started saying her name with the French inflection, they both felt a change.

Hesitation momentarily shelved, a firm and consistent movement with her hand, and kisses that quickly turned into bites, all Cynthia could think about was pleasing her lover, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Before Diantha could begin to ask for more, her orgasm hit her unexpectedly, rolling over her in waves that Cynthia was more than happy to ride out with her, each thrust of her hand sending more ripples of pleasure across her body.

Her breathing was hard and labored as she came down from the high, Cynthia eventually withdrawing her hand, content to leave light kisses on her cheek to work her down.

"You okay?" Cynthia asked, brushing her bangs from her face.

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "More than okay, my darling," she said, once again barely stopping herself from saying something too strong. Dear and darling would have to suffice for now. My love was too much of a risk for the time being.

Cynthia lay beside her, content to just run a hand up her side.

It wasn't long before Diantha was more than eager to return the favor.

Leaning up to kiss her, a long strand of Cynthia's hair got in the way, to which Diantha was quick to fall back laughing. Cynthia fell onto her back as well, grumbling with embarrassment.

Propping herself up on an elbow, Diantha reached up to clear her face. "Ma chérie–" Easily enough she spoke in French, asking only of her lover to not be embarrassed, moving carefully to place herself over her, kissing lower.

Lost in the feeling of it all, it was only when she felt a push on her legs to open did she realize exactly what Diantha was going for.

"Diantha–" she said, getting her to pause. "You don't have to–" She looked off to the side, not wanting to finish.

Diantha laughed low, the sound warm on her stomach. "I very much would like to, but if you don't like it–"

Cynthia shrugged, still looking away. "It's just– it's never gotten me off before, I've been told I'm impossible, and I just– I don't want you wasting your time."

As Cynthia brought her knee up, Diantha rested her cheek on it, smiling down at her. "My dear Cynthia, no second I spend on you is ever wasted," she said, pressing a kiss to her knee, running her fingers up the underside of her leg. "I am more than willing to try. If you find yourself bored or tired of it, let me know. Your pleasure if my only priority now."

Looking up at her, if only because of how purely she wanted her, and how much she trusted her, she said, "Please," in a shaky voice.

Hand to her calf, she eased her leg down with gentle kisses. "Don't worry if you will or won't, my darling. Just concentrate on what feels good," she said, kissing up her leg, adjusting herself to get comfortable. "Don't be afraid to be vocal. That's the best kind of lover," she said.

Cynthia nodded, but said nothing, only easing herself back with closed eyes, concentrating on the feeling of every kiss and every touch. How long now she had wanted this–Diantha. How long now had she fantasized about this very moment? Everything from every little touch and movement– none of it compared to the real thing.

Diantha was content to drag it all out as long as possible. Cynthia had teased her well into the night, and so she found it only fair. Kisses along her thigh, dragging of her nails, anything to get a small whine out of her. Anything in the name of working her up.

Kissing between her breast, she ran a cursory finger along her cunt, pleased to find her slick and ready. Below her, Cynthia grunted, a rock of her hips that was clearly trying to get her in her.

"Tell me what you want, my darling," she said, kissing her way lower again.

"You, Diantha, it's always you, I– please," she said, barely coherent enough to even form the words, seconds only away from begging to be fucked.

Thankfully, Diantha was done making her wait. Mouth to her clit and one cursory finger in her, the gasp Cynthia let go of filled the room.

"Fuck–" Cynthia gasped, her voice higher pitched than either of them were used to.

A good sign for Diantha.

Normally, getting eaten out was something Cynthia found to be only warm and slimy; not appealing in the least.

She couldn't even begin to fathom what was entirely different about the situation, but the second Diantha added another finger, her tongue making hard circles, she quickly found herself unraveling.

She had a naturally lower voice, but something about Diantha working her so expertly was enough to drag out whines and noises she wasn't sure anyone else had ever gotten from her.

"Fuck– more– please–" was about all she could manage, and with the addition of a third finger and Diantha sucking her clit into her mouth, a white-hot wave crashed over her, Diantha's name on her lips.

Diantha responded with a small yelp as she found herself trapped between her legs, her thighs crashing against her head with a distinct 'pop' in her ears.

Cynthia's breath was hard and labored as she came down from the high, forcing her legs apart when she realized she was nearly suffocating her lover.

"Fuck– I'm sorry– I–" but words refused her. It was all she could do to try and catch her breath.

Unable to form a proper response, Diantha could only laugh, looking up at her.

Watching her wipe her lip, Cynthia almost swore she could cum again right then and there.

"And you thought you were impossible," she said, moving herself to lie beside her.

"I guess I'm wrong, sometimes," she answered, pulling her in for a kiss, a small thrill from tasting herself on her lips. "Also, sorry about– yeah."

She laughed low, tangling her legs with Cynthia's. "Darling, you have the thighs of a goddess– I don't mind being trapped between them." In fact, she might have fantasized about the exact scenario a time or two. Or three. Maybe more.

Cynthia laughed through her nose, pulling her in for another kiss. The burning want had been abated, now replaced with a much softer desire. A desire to simply lay there with her and do nothing else for the rest of the night, only basking in the presence of one another.

"While I can probably safely assume the answer, I should ask, will you stay with me tonight?" Diantha asked, drawing small circles on her shoulder.

"I'll stay as long as you'll have me," she answered.

Diantha pulled her into a soft kiss. "I'm afraid you'll be staying quite some time, then, my dear Cynthia…"


AN:

First things first, genuinely, I hope you are doing well. It's been a good minute since I last updated, and to say the world around us has changed would be an absolute understatement.

Personally, I work at a grocery store in a high covid-19 case area, and it's been absolute hell and scary. I'm about to change jobs, but still. I hope you're taking care of yourselves as best you can, and I hope you and your loved ones are doing well. If this dumb fic of mine can be any bit of mental reprieve for you in these trying times, then that's all i can ask.

Anyways, so again, soRRY it's been so long since I last updated. Getting a 35+ hr/week job has been absolutely killer. It being customer service has also been rough as hell. But! I'm about to change to a 9-5 office job, with weekends and all major holidays off, so! Here's to hoping I'll actually be able to finish this fic by the end of the year ;v;

Smut is def something I want to get better with, but like. You can't write good smut until you've written some bad smut, right?

As always, thank you so much for reading! Your continued support means the absolute world to me, and I wouldn't have gotten this far without it!

Take care!

~Tori