Author's Note: There is a line that may seem un-Sybill-ish, talking about rainbows; however, I thought it did. She's kind of a drama queen, even if she is a tortured one, and so I thought that if she is one, she might as well be one all-around, not just when it comes to negative things.
Chapter Four: Falling Into Fantasy
Minerva leant against the wall of her sleeping quarters and breathed deeply. She tilt her head up and closed her eyes. What was wrong with her? She didn't kiss colleagues – it was unprofessional. Minerva McGonagall was sensible, was composed, was prudence and poise. She certainly didn't kiss Sybill. She felt sorry for her, yes, but that didn't change the fact that her colleague was completely daft. She fragmented, her body shivering, and placed an unsteady hand on her forehead. The lights playing at the corners of her eyelids made her dizzy. Shallow breath made her feel like someone was crushing her lungs, a creak of the floor made her feel like a mouse skittering across a wide open space. She opened her eyes and a glassless Sybill stared at Minerva intensely, wringing her hands, her trembling bottom lip tucked behind her top teeth.
"S-Sy-Sybill…"
Silence filled the gap between them as she trailed off. She locked eyes with Minerva, and sashayed to her, bumping into a table along the way. Minerva laughed. It was a beautiful noise; it sounded like what she imagined Rainbows would if they could talk. Minerva's fingers were at the edge of her mouth as she laughed, and when she stopped, they slipped along the bottom of her lower lip for a second before they fell. Minerva held herself straight suddenly, but Sybill had caught it. It was enough.
Sybill pressed her body close to her, feeling her natural heat and soaking it in like a radiating Sun. If she could keep Minerva always this close to her, there would never be a need to go outside again. "Sybill, I don't think –" She clamped her hand ungainly over Minerva's lips immediately. "Balderdash," she whispered, and then pulled her hand away. She cupped her chin in the bottom of her palms; her fingers curved near skin, but not touching it, and she brushed her lips against the older woman's. Again Minerva did not back away or reciprocate. She stood there, her hands hanging limply in mid-air as she wrestled her feelings. Sybill withdrew a little, her face still close, leaning only her thumb forward to graze the underside of her chin. Minerva's lips quavered. What sounded like dry crying melt out of the woman and she tried not to show her fear. Sybill's eyes widened and words of leaving played on the edge of her mind.
"N-n-no."
Sybill did not ask how she knew, but hesitantly kissed her again. The stubborn woman still did not give in to her, but she did not fight, either. Sybill did not want to push, and knew she would soon be forced to stop if Minerva did not let go of her restraint.
Minerva's eyes fell closed. Sybill tasted like treacle tart and desire commanded her to let herself fall into fantasy. Against her better judgement, she pushed her own lips against the younger woman's. Her lips were practically on fire, consuming her overriding loneliness that had built over the years. Her hands flew to Sybill's, and pressed them softly against her cheeks, feeling every inch of herself squeal in delight just before they finally broke apart.
They looked at each other, each silently calling to the other for them to come back. With no warning whatsoever, Sybill undid Minerva's hair; she stood a statue, her ash coloured locks falling in waves. Sybill stared at her, motionless for a few minutes, and then pounced on her once more. A smile crept onto Minerva's face as she kissed her back.
Sybill began to undo the buttons on Minerva's dressing gown clumsily – one of them stuck. She tugged on it, but it would not slide through. Minerva slowly reached for it, and, Sybill's hands in her own, undid it. Sybill began to skim her lips across Minerva's bare neck and chest before she even had a chance to fathom the fact that she was old and had not done this in a long while. They should stop, she thought, but she couldn't; she was magnetised to her. She wanted her, she realised. She wanted to be so close to her, no piece of skin alone, no air able to travel through. It wasn't simply sexual, it was magic. She could not help herself, her insides begged for her. She wanted to be so near her that they would seem one large body rather than two – one mind even. Sky blue eyes poured into sapphire grey ones, and Sybill kissed her a little sloppily, hungrily. Minerva slowed her down, and kissed her gently; then she relinquished her lips, and her body, to her.
Sybill seized her body for all that she could in an effort to be close to Minerva. She leaned her head against Minerva's chest and listened to her heart, kissing the spot when she removed her head. She accidentally ripped the sleeve of her dressing gown, but Minerva did not seem to care. She wanted to be graceful and normal for her, but her body would not comply. The less awkward she tried to be, the clumsier she was. She pushed Minerva a little too roughly into the bed and fell backwards from the opposing exertion. Minerva laughed her Rainbow laugh again, and Sybill clambered in after her.