Isabela's POV
Hawke kept her word and didn't contact me for a day. I was expecting to spend that time awkwardly playing with my hands and finding excuses to check my phone, but it turned out that wasn't necessary. Merrill, Varric, and yes, even Aveline, spent the whole time informing me of Hawke's condition. Merrill said she was 'a bundle of nerves' and stayed up late cleaning their room. When Varric bumped into her on the sidewalk between classes he described her as 'gloomy'. And Aveline simply called her an idiot. I almost felt bad for her. But then I remembered that this was her idea. And I did have a bit of time to consider things. I texted Hawke and told her I would pick her up tomorrow after classes were over and that I would drive off if she offered me roses or chocolate. I could tell how ecstatic she was by the number of smiley faces in her reply. There were five.
I nearly changed my mind after the twentieth 'thank you' text. As it was, I had no idea what to do with her. I mean, there was sex. But, despite a week's reprieve, I wasn't entirely interested. I made the decision in years past to lay low on Valentine's Day. And that meant no parties, no visitors, and no interactions outside of class. The only reason I broke my rule was … Cassandra. I may not have wanted to fuck her brains out, but I did want to see her face.
She lit up when she saw me. She tried to hide it behind a diplomatic smile, but I noticed. She gave a quick hello as she slid into my car, then sat quietly until we got back to my apartment. I did my best to ignore her presence. I took off my heels, untucked my blouse, and poured myself a drink, like I did any other weekday. Hawke perched herself on the far end of my sofa, watching my routine. I tossed her a bottle of water from the fridge and she smiled at me. When she asked me what I wanted to do, I walked over to my DVD collection and looked for the most dry, unfunny and unemotional thing I owned. A nature documentary came to mind. I could pretend to absorb useless facts, watch high-definition dolphins, and completely ignore the outside world. So that's exactly what I did, for a while. But then Hawke started chattering at me. 'Did you know that blah blah blah?' 'I always wanted a pet blah.' 'Male blahs attract females by blah blah blah.' She wasn't being rude or anything, and she kept her voice down, but it was definitely distracting. I quickly gave up and shut it off.
"I'm sorry." Cassandra hung her head as I walked back toward the kitchen, cursing my lack of groceries. "I could leave, if you want." That's when I really began to curse. My apartment felt empty without her around, but I didn't want to touch her. I thought it would be different with Hawke, but it wasn't. Worst of all, it wasn't her fault. She stood from the sofa and adjusted her clothes.
"Sit." I ordered her. She hesitated, blinking queerly. She waited a moment before sitting back down. I called out for Chinese, staring at Hawke the whole time. She smiled weakly when she heard me order her a beef and broccoli combo platter. When I was done ordering, we sat in silence. When the food arrived, we ate in silence. It was only after Hawke cleaned up the food and sat with me on the sofa that she spoke.
"You're not ok, are you?" She asked the question almost rhetorically.
I buried one hand in my hair, breathing deeply. "No. I'm really not." I confessed, although my lack of sarcasm was a pretty obvious indication. She scooted closer to me. Her arm lifted, as if she was going to lay it over my shoulders, but she stopped halfway through, just leaving it in midair.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I thought about exactly what 'it' is. 'It' is personal. But my apartment was personal. And everything I told her that first night was personal. Everything with us was becoming more and more personal. Wherever my boundaries were, they'd shifted in the past few months.
I watched her as she was watching me. She was worried and nervous, maybe even a bit sad. Her eyes were greyer than usual. Her neck was covered in goosebumps. Her shoulders were slumped. Her long-sleeved shirt, which I hadn't noticed before, had the Torchwood logo on it. Hawke is such a geek. I sighed. "No."
"Is it me?" Her outstretched arm was pulled back and she practically hugged herself, looking ashamed.
I felt like a complete ass for making her feel bad. "No. It's not you." I shook my head, patting her knee for reassurance. We sat in silence for another moment. Cassandra was watching me as I breathed, trying to push my heart rate down to normal.
Then, so quiet I almost didn't hear it, she whispered, "What happened on Valentine's Day?"
I clenched my teeth and shut my eyes. "Don't, Hawke. Just don't." But she shifted, scooting closer and turning toward me.
"Please, baby. I want to help. Or at least understand." She placed an arm on the back of the loveseat, just behind my shoulders. I knew she wasn't just being nosy, and that she really did have my best interest in mind, but my adrenaline was starting to build up, telling me to run. "It was Luis, wasn't it? Did he hate Valentine's Day?"
"No." I grunted. She had hit the nail directly on the head. It hurt. The memories hurt. The fear hurt. It all just hurt. But maybe Hawke could relieve the pain in my chest. I trusted her with things before. Every time we chatted about something personal she got this odd look of appreciation; like I was a puzzle that she was slowing beginning to piece together. She wanted to know, and perhaps she deserved to. "It was his favorite holiday."
"Ok, so-" She mumbled.
"I couldn't say no." I blurted out. Cassandra went silent as I hung my head, holding it in my hands. I took a deep breath, then began again. "I couldn't say no. He'd dress me up and take me out. It was always somewhere expensive. He'd make a big show of it. Kissing me during dinner, buying me flowers and jewelry, leading me on some walk on the beach. But I knew what it meant." I could still picture it so clearly. All the strangers looking at us and thinking 'what a cute couple, they look so happy'. I had to smile, to laugh, to pretend, only to cringe when he ordered himself another drink. "It meant that when he brought me home… Well, no one would believe me."
Hawke didn't hesitate. "He took advantage of you." She was angry. Not at me, of course. But her tone still made me flinch. I covered it with an awkward snort.
"He always did that. But Valentine's was the worst of it." I took another deep breath, trying to decide how much information would be too much information. My winger sat silently. I could feel the tension rolling off of her in waves, but the woman has the patience of a saint. "I'd go to lunch later that week with some friend of his. They'd see the damage. The bruises on my wrists and neck, the cuts on my back, the way I held my ribs. I tried to cover the marks with makeup, but there were always too many." I remained vague. I had to. Describing my injuries was easier than explaining how I got them. I didn't want Hawke to think of me like that: powerless and subservient. "I was less than human to Luis; something to be used and tossed away before my age started to show."
"'Bela, that's… shit." Cassandra pushed her hair back. Her shoulders were knotted, like she was primed to shove her fist through the nearest wall. Her pupils were dilated and the veins in her neck were visibly throbbing. It was actually kind of terrifying. But she closed her eyes and took ten deep breaths. She'd obviously been trained to do that. I often forgot that Hawke was in an anger management program after that… incident in her teens. She was always so calm. But I was beginning to realize that all of her rage was on a very short leash.
She opened her eyes and looked at me. "But… before our first date you said the only good thing about your marriage is that he didn't beat you."
"Would you have wanted to go to lunch with Isabela 'the formerly brutalized' Rivaini? Would anyone?" I shook my head. I didn't want pity, from her or anyone else.
"Look at me." She shifted closer when I didn't respond. "Please look at me." Hawke whispered against my ear. Her breath was hot as her nose brushed my hair. I shuttered from the sensation. When I finally did turn and look at her, she just sat there, staring at me. But damn, those eyes. I couldn't tell if she wanted to console me or rip my clothes off. Though, the second could have been wishful thinking. She gulped. "I would never…" She held out her hand, as if to make a gesture, but quickly dropped it back into her lap. She took a few moments to think. I could see her mind working as she continually blinked. Finally, she placed her hand over her chest and tilted her head. "You can trust me, Isabela. You decide what happens here."
I had no idea why, but that made me feel better. "I know." I gave her a half smile, which she returned in two-fold. You'd think she'd just been handed a trophy. She looked happy, despite everything I'd said and done.
My 'no contact' rule quickly fell apart. I didn't give her any warning before latching onto her face like a B movie zombie. She was allowing me to kiss her as much as I wanted, with no hint of wanting anything more, but I was persistent. I climbed on top of her thighs, kissing, groping, and clawing at her clothes. I only broke contact with her lips long enough to breathe and pull her shirt over her head. I was going to continue, but that's when I realized she was just sitting there, blinking at me, her arms lying lifelessly across the back of the sofa. Her chest was rising and falling with shallow breaths, but she was staying completely still. "Why aren't you touching me? Is it because of what I told you?" I shivered, suddenly feeling exposed. Of course she wouldn't want you now. Dating a slut is bad enough. But now you're a damaged slut. Tainted goods. You should never have…
"No. Of course not." She shook her head, panting. I waited in stunned silence as she sat up a bit. Her arms wrapped loosely around my waist. "I want to touch you, but only if you want me to. Only by your choice." She looked up at me, licking her lips. Her irises reflected all the light in the room, despite the increased size of her pupils. "I want you to feel good."
That was quite possibly the sexiest thing I had ever heard. And from a topless, hardly-in-control-of-her-raging-hormones nineteen-year-old with amazing blue eyes, no less. My panties were forfeit, along with my disdain for the fourteenth of February. But I would remember my final words, spoken just before my world was rocked off of its axis. "Fuck me already, or so help me, I'll do it myself."
I'll be damned if the woman doesn't take a challenge seriously.
Hawke never stopped kissing me. She made it all the way down to my breasts before she unbuttoned my blouse with her teeth. Her arms wrapped around me tight as she buried her face in my chest, mumbling sweet, filthy nothings. She picked me up, removing more of my clothing as we worked our way back to the bedroom. Then I was on my back, wearing nothing but my skirt, which she took her time peeling off of me. Then, she followed the path with her tongue. I could write books about all the things Cassandra can do with her tongue.
She used every trick and turn of phrase that night. Every touch was paired with a compliment, a come-on, a playful smirk, and an enthusiastic groan. I was already on my third before I realized she was still wearing jeans. It wasn't until my fifth that she took a break long enough to get out of her sweat-soaked clothes and get me some much needed water. I was halfway through my seventh when I saw the sun poking through my window. I couldn't keep my eyes open after my eighth, but I'm sure I grumbled something about reciprocity. Hawke laughed and wrapped herself around me. I remember her whispering something against my neck, but exhaustion clouded my senses. I doubt I'll ever know what she said.
I had a toothy grin plastered to my face for the next four days, which included our Sunday lunch appointment. Varric was pretty excited to hear about everyone's weekend. Aveline bought my Kitten copper rounds engraved with marigolds and then they went on an afterhours walk through a local domed botanical garden. That was probably the stupidest thing I'd ever heard, but the girl was ecstatic. She made two of the rounds into earrings and a third into a matching necklace. I warned her, of course, that due to the metal's properties, it would turn her green. Green is her favorite color, she told me. But Varric was ahead of the game. He told her to dip the rounds in nail polish to protect them. I'm not sure how he knew that, but it was a pretty genius idea. After making a note to do so, the couple then told us all about how the sprinklers came on at ten and they had to run for cover under a banana tree. They didn't say if anything happened under the tropical canopy, but they didn't say anything didn't. Cheeky bastards.
Varric had a candlelight dinner with his typewriter, then booked the Honeymoon Suite at a local hotel. Hawke and I, of course, had spent the evening eating Chinese food and watching a David Attenborough nature documentary. Varric knew there was more to it than that, honesty. I'd been so damned loud that he got a hotel room. But he didn't say anything just then. He waited until my fourth day of prolonged cheerfulness to discuss the matter.
It was a Tuesday night, so Hawke was off at rugby practice and I was in my apartment, sifting through assignments and whistling old sailing songs. Someone knocked on my front door, which wasn't strange at all, considering I ordered Indian take-out. But when I opened the door, instead of finding a pimpled college boy, there was Varric with my food in his arms.
"We should talk." Three of my least favorite words.
I just stared at him for a second before taking my bags from his hands. "Are you breaking up with me?" I joked, trying to remove the serious look from his face. "Let me guess, it's not me, it's you?" I chuckled.
"Laugh it up, Rivaini, but I don't play delivery boy just for fun." He pointed out, shaking his finger and walking past me to get inside my apartment.
He quickly removed his coat and hung it on the rack. "Here I thought you wanted to make a bad porno." I joked again, but was still met with a barely amused look. "What? I'm sure someone would pay to see it." I shrugged, then set my take-out on the island in the kitchen.
"Tempting, but no." He sighed . "You owe me a hundred bucks, by the way. A little steep, if you ask me." I gestured casually toward my purse, then went about unpacking all of my food. I laid out each of the boxes and popped them open in sequence. Within moments, my apartment smelled like a market in downtown Bombay. Varric walked up behind me, eyeing my food. "Wait, what? I thought half of those boxes would be flatbread! Did you order the whole menu?"
"Yes, actually. It's a new restaurant. If it's shit, I'll never order again. But if it's good, then I've got leftovers for the rest of the week and a new Tuesday tikka masala tradition." I stumbled over my own tongue, before grabbing a plate from the cupboard. "Wow, that was a lot of t's." I mumbled under my breath. I turned around and offered Varric a plate. "Want some?"
He glanced over the abundance of food with mild interest. "Might as well." He shrugged, trotting over to me and taking the dish. We chatted about the quality of the food as we stuffed our faces. We hardly made a dent in the pile of boxes on my island. I squirreled most of it away in the fridge, then poured myself a drink. Varric was sitting in the armchair, patiently waiting to discuss the reason behind his visit.
I stretched my legs out on the loveseat and sipped some port. "So, 'we should talk'? That's ominous."
"That depends on how you define 'ominous'." He deadpanned. I couldn't help but chuckle at his cryptic expressions.
"Is this going to end in a game of riddles? Because I don't want to know what you've got in your pocket." I wiggled my finger jokingly. The dwarf groaned and rubbed at his temple.
"Look, Isabela-"
"Not 'Rivaini'? This can't be good." I said with a smirk.
Varric stared at me pointedly. "Isabela, I'm being serious." His stone-cold countenance made that very clear.
"Alright, alright. What's the problem?" I sat forward, placed my nearly empty glass on the table, and made an effort to pay attention.
"I'm not sure there is a problem. Is there a problem?" Varric asked. He was shifting pensively in his seat while fiddling with the rings on his fingers.
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm confused..."
"I had a chat with Hawke the other day." He confessed, as if the comment had some sinister meaning. It was entirely normal for the two to talk and text without my direct involvement. They were friends. But his tone surprised me.
"This is about something she said, then?"
The dwarf sat back in my armchair, rubbing his shoulders side to side in an effort to get comfortable. "She told me about Valentine's Day." He eyed me, speaking slowly. "Hawke, and I quote, 'made love to you'."
"I see." I gulped nervously, covering my shock with cold indifference. Obviously, I knew that's how Hawke would describe our escapade. But I didn't expect her to openly admit it to anyone. At least, not to anyone that would repeat it back to me.
Varric slapped the armrests and stood, then began pacing in front of me. "You understand why I'm here now, don't you? We both know that you don't have sex on Valentine's Day, let alone 'make love'. You don't 'make love' any day of the year, Rivaini. So she's either lying, which she's practically incapable of, or she's falling for you." He pointed at me accusingly as he spoke. I'd never seen him so frustrated. I continued to sip my port. Finally, after noticing my lack of a reaction, he flopped back down in the chair. He rubbed at his eyebrow and stared. "You knew, didn't you?"
I set my drink down and sighed. "Of course I knew. It's not exactly a secret." Hawke has the worst poker face. She pretended not to be disappointed when I didn't get her anything for Christmas. She pretended not to get jealous when Teague texted me at 2:00 am on a Saturday, drunk off his ass. She pretended not to be care when I didn't go to her last home game. All the while, I knew she was feeding me bullshit. Her smile might have fooled most people, but I knew. Those blue eyes were so clouded with defeat. The truth is, she wanted more than I was willing to give.
"I revert back to my original question, then. Is there a problem?" Varric looked to me. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was determined to get answers. "Are you gonna stick this out, or are you gonna break her heart? Because I like Hawke; I really do. I'm not sure I'd be able to choose between the two of you if the time comes."
I realized that he was probably right. He may have been my friend first, but he always appreciated Hawke's righteous nature. I leaned back on the sofa, huffing. "Thus, the issue. Our friendships are all tied up in a nice pretty bow along with our girlfriend agreement, but if it dissolves… I'll lose Hawke, Kitten, and maybe even you." I immediately reached for my wineglass, downing it in one motion and quickly rising to refill it in another. My friend turned his chair to maintain eye contact. He was waiting for me to be overwhelmed, and maybe even cry. I leaned heavily against the island in the kitchen. The black marble was cold against my hands. I tried to focus on that and not the pain in my gut. My glass was already nearly empty before I spoke again. "I might even miss Aveline when she's gone."
Varric rolled his eyes, but his amusement didn't last very long. He swiftly returned to gazing seriously. "You're left with two options, Rivaini: keep her around or let her down gently."
I downed the last of the port, discarding the glass in the sink with no inclination of grace. "It's decided, then." The dwarf stared at me, raising a curious eyebrow. I clapped my frigid hands together. "Hawke thinks she loves me? We'll see about that."
Author's Note: So, wow. This was supposed to be posted a week ago. But I got caught up in work. Two jobs and a small business will do that, I guess. Anyway, I've got another three chapters before 'the summer'. I'm hoping to get them to you every two weeks, but that may be wishful thinking. Bear with me, if you can. This show will go on.