Paris was breathtaking at night.
Mia pressed her face against the window of the taxi, watching the bounteous stars twinkle over the 1st arrondissement of central Paris. The elegant white façades of the 18th-century town houses absolutely capitated her. Mia had only ever seen pictures of these old kinds of buildings in history books. In fact, before living in Los Angeles, she'd never even left Kurain village.
Lana couldn't stop smiling. Though generally more reserved, Mia had not stopped pointing out this and that to Lana throughout the entire journey. From LAX to Charles de Gaulle, Lana felt as if she'd had to explain a million different things to the third-year law student and answer all kinds of questions.
"Yes, Mia, the flight will take eleven hours. No, the plane isn't exploding, Mia, that's just how it lands. Yes, I can speak French. … Um, I suppose it might be sexy… to some."
Mia's hand found Lana's when she caught a glimpse of the gleaming Eiffel Tower in the distance. Just a simple peak, as it was hidden between some buildings, but it was enough to send her heart racing. Mia felt tears welling and had to wipe them away. She tried to mask a quiet sob, but nothing got past the detective.
"I cried my first time, too," Lana said gently after a moment, as Mia composed herself.
Mia sniffled, embarrassed, but felt slightly less so when Lana squeezed her hand.
"It's so beautiful. I never imagined that I'd get to see this with you," Mia replied with a watery smile. "I really don't deserve such an amazing girlfriend."
Lana scoffed, awkward. "I'm glad you're having a good time."
Lana Skye never seemed to handle expressing such intimate thoughts with any sort of grace, which Mia honestly found to be completely endearing. They were completely different in that regard. Mia loved cheesy romantic comedies and novels with saucy covers and happy endings. She loved poetry, and cuddling, and pillow talk for hours after sex.
Lana on the other hand expressed her love in ways that didn't usually involve words. A special trip to the beach, when Mia was stressed with an assignment: just the two of them. A warm home-cooked meal or a sparkling clean apartment when Mia was too busy to care for herself properly. A soft shoulder squeeze as Mia cried over a sad movie.
Despite their differences, the two women had found themselves inseparable for the past two years. Mia Fey: the first-year law rookie who mesmerized an entire class of third-year law students with a perfect rebuttal to their professor's argument. Ever since appearing in Lana's life, she had only seemed to brighten it.
The driver turned slightly and announced something in French that Mia didn't understand. Lana leaned slightly forward to respond to the driver. While they spoke, Mia's eyes flicked outside again. The taxi had stopped outside of an immense and magnificent building.
Mia almost did a double take when a gleaming red Ferrari 458 pulled to a purring stop ahead of them. Her eyes widened when she saw the luxurious actress that stepped out of it, all blonde curls, hips, and heels.
"Is that…?" Mia started to whisper, immediately star-struck.
"Yes," Lana answered, eyes bright with amusement. She pressed a soft peck to Mia's cheek. "We're here, love. Time to get some rest."
A porter, clad in an expensive uniform, opened the door to the taxi with a bow. He spoke in English to the two women.
"Welcome to Paris. May I take your luggage up to the front desk for you?"
Mia waited for Lana to pay their taxi driver and talk to the porter. Her legs burned with soreness after the long drive from the airport. When she finally got a chance to stand up, she grunted with the pain of it. I'm getting old, Mia thought to herself, glumly.
In fact, she hadn't gotten a proper night's rest since they'd left Los Angeles the previous day and was craving a soft bed.
The porter loaded Mia and Lana's bags onto a cart and began wheeling it inside. The taxi driver drove off with a friendly wave to them as Mia and Lana began to follow the porter inside. A steel samurai keychain attached to Mia's bag bounced along with the cart.
Mia felt a pang, missing Maya already. She hoped that her little sister was doing well in Kurain, still training with their aunt. Maya had made Mia promise to take pictures of everything. She'd even made Lana pinkie promise that she wouldn't let Mia come home without at least a hundred.
Just the thought of food made Mia's stomach growl. Lana even noticed, and turned back, raising her eyebrow.
"I'm starving," Mia admitted sheepishly. "I don't remember eating anything since yesterday."
The side of Lana's mouth curved up. Mia was aware of just how similar to Maya she sounded and was certain the comparison wasn't lost on Lana, either.
"I'll take care of checking in. It won't take long," Lana reassured her. "Why don't you grab a bite in the meantime? They have fresh-baked bread over there."
Lana gestured with her chin to a small but bustling and brightly-lit section of the lobby. She paused to pull some crisp Euros from her wallet and handed them to Mia.
"Are you serious? You can buy bread in a hotel?"
Lana's smile grew wider. "Yes, and it's delicious. There are even some vending machines with baguettes in them."
Mia closed her eyes and sighed, dreamily. "I love France."
As Lana left to check them in, Mia secretly hung back for a minute. She'd enjoyed watching Lana interact and communicate with everyone in France so far. How Lana so easily slipped into French. How full and colorful the language sounded in her mouth. How Lana would always turn around and meticulously translate everything to Mia to keep her in the loop. Mia had always found Lana's immense intellect her biggest attraction and seeing her in her element here was no exception.
Lana admitted being something of a Francophile after Mia pointed out all of the poetic, moody black and white pictures in Lana's apartment. The way Lana's voice changed to something soft and full of admiration whenever she talked about French poetry or classical French painters could have kept Mia enthralled for hours. Mia often wondered if Lana hadn't gone into law and police-work, maybe she would have somehow ended up here.
Luckily, with her experience and smarts, Lana had already begun to rise through the ranks of the police department. According to her senior partner, Mr. Gant, Lana had made detective faster than anyone else who came before her. Even her fellow partner, Angel, who'd been in the work for several years prior and seemed to terrify all of the other detectives admitted that Lana was "one tough cookie."
It was how Lana had saved enough to take care of her and Ema, since their parents' untimely death years before. And it was how the two women found themselves in Paris on their winter vacation at one of the ritziest hotels in the entire world.
After working up enough courage to use the tiniest bits of French that Lana had taught her, Mia finally went to the bakery. And in stark contrast to Lana, the entire process turned into an awkward ordeal. Mia struggled horribly to communicate with the woman at the counter. Unlike the porter, she didn't speak English at all. Mia had to resort to using the only French that she remembered: I'm so sorry. My French is horrible.
Somehow with a combination of humility, charades, pointing, and a great deal of patience, she managed to walk away with a baguette and two slices of mille-feuille.
Mia returned to the lobby. Lana was standing off to the side, glaring into her phone. Stony-faced and eyes of steel. Mia could have laughed. Lana had the most terrible resting bitch face out of anyone she'd ever met. The other porters even seemed to hang back out of fear or intimidation unless Lana addressed them directly. Lana had that effect on people. Making them stand up straighter and carefully watch their words.
When Lana finally looked up and saw her girlfriend approaching, her entire face changed. Her eyes softened, and a smile radiated. Mia's heart always filled at how much Lana's face revealed how much she genuinely enjoyed being around her. Like they were the only two in the world.
Mia waved the bag with the large protruding baguette, chuckling. "I got it! Somehow!"
"I'm so proud of you," Lana teased her. It came naturally from having a younger sister, as Mia well knew.
"Can we please sleep on a real bed now?" Mia couldn't help whining. "I think I could inhale this entire baguette."
When they opened the door to their suite, Mia bee-lined for the king-sized bed and flopped against the thick gold satin covers with a dramatic groan. The softness of clouds greeted her.
"Ugh," she moaned, hugging one of the pillows to her chest. She twirled across the bed onto her stomach. "Lana, what are you doing? Get over here. This is magical."
Lana chuckled, setting the rest of the luggage down on a plush chair near the wall. The room was captivating. The oil paintings, the Louis XIV style decor, the ethereal lighting… it was all so lavish. Ema had been right- Lana was spoiling them rotten.
"I'm just enjoying the view," Lana remarked.
Mia's dress had ridden up in her haste to climb into the bed and displayed a flash of lacy black underwear and a sumptuous, perfectly plump ass-cheek.
Mia threw one of the pillows at Lana, as they laughed, silly and exhausted.
"Alright, you," Lana acquiesced finally, tossing the pillow back. "Scoot."
And now, as Mia coquettishly splayed across the sheets, mesmerized by Lana's bedroom eyes, all she could think about was showing just how much she appreciated Lana's huge gesture.
Lana climbed onto the bed. She planted her arms each beside Mia's head, looking down into her eyes and straddled her.
"I've been thinking about this since waking up."
Lana leaned down to claim Mia's lips. Mia inched her hands underneath Lana's palms, squeezing them, craving intimacy already. She was especially ready after the long journey and many hours of fantasizing about what sex in Paris would do to her.
"I love you, Lana," Mia breathed the phrase feverishly into her lover's mouth.
"Oh, Mia."
Lana started nibbling Mia's neck and chin, eliciting a helpless laugh from the younger woman. Lana knew how ticklish Mia was and often teased her when she became so lovey-dovey.
"It's true," Mia repeated, more seriously this time, when Lana relented. "I think I'd go anywhere with you."
"I'd go anywhere with you too, Miss Fey," Lana replied. She grew thoughtful. "I've been to Paris many times before, but it's never felt as amazing as it does right now."
"Is that the tiniest bit of sentimentality I detect, Miss Skye?" Mia teased her, though her brown eyes crinkled at Lana's confession.
Lana grew still and awkward. Mia quickly felt guilty for teasing her.
"I'm sorry, babe," she apologized. "I shouldn't tease you like that. I just love it when you accidentally get a little sappy."
Mia pulled Lana's face closer. "Kiss me again like that."
Lana seemed to recover at Mia's request. She wrapped her arms around Mia's soft and curvy body, pulling her fiercely close. As her lips covered Mia's again, she felt Mia's smart fingers at her blouse, quickly unbuttoning it. Lana set to work on the zipper of Mia's dress.
It seemed like their hands couldn't move fast enough, though they did. Lana's blouse was soon hanging open with the ease of fingers who'd stripped off the same shirt many times before. Lana tugged down the straps of Mia's dress, and together, the two women let their experienced fingers unlace and pull off every item of clothing. They made a neat pile of it all on the carpet at their feet.
Lana groaned into Mia's mouth, while her lover's hands found purchase in her hair. Something new about Lana always revealed itself every time they were together. How Lana liked to top on bad days and bottom on good days. How she liked to be touched and kissed in the same certain places and in the same order. The increasing strength in her arms and sculpted back muscles that became more defined every week.
Mia trailed her hands up and down Lana's arms, feeling the hard muscles under her skin.
"You're getting so strong!"
Lana paused to laugh, in surprise, at this unexpected compliment. The two women enjoyed a healthy sex life and were often together at each other's apartments. Saw each other naked often. But sometimes the little changes weren't always noticeable every day.
"You like it?" Lana asked playfully.
"It makes me really wet."
Lana smirked, trying not to laugh at the simple absurdity of how candidly Mia always spoke her mind. Especially when she voiced the most ridiculous or kinky things that other people would have been too embarrassed to speak aloud.
Lana kissed a low and sensuous line between Mia's enormous breasts, down to her waist and peppered them on each thick thigh.
"Stop teasing," Mia whined after a moment.
Mia reached down to pull Lana back up to her. Lana lost her hold and collapsed on top of Mia, which seemed to be what the other woman wanted anyway. Mia's kiss became frantic. All hot breath and roving tongue and want. The kind of kiss that could leave their flesh bruised for a day or two after.
After giving Lana a taste of what she'd been expecting, Mia released her. Lana returned to Mia's lower region, and Mia spread her legs wider for better access. Lana took both of her calves and pushed them to the side.
"You are wet," she chuckled.
Mia made a disgruntled noise which quickly turned into something more breathless and desperate when Lana pressed her face into Mia's pussy. Her tongue found Mia's sweet spot, circling it with her tongue.
So much of their sexual relationship was exactly like how they each argued in court. Listening and responding. For every time Mia groaned or gripped the bedsheets tighter, Lana would respond and adjust her movements or the pressure of her mouth. Lana knew when Mia was ready to be entered because she'd push herself into Lana's tongue at the exact angle every time. Almost like clockwork.
Lana's finger pushed inside Mia, feeling her warm walls constricted it. After a few tentative thrusts and a quick minute of pushing and stretching her entrance, Lana put in another. All the while, she kept her mouth locked around Mia.
It never took too long after that until Mia came, writhing on the bed. When she came, she moaned Lana's name into her hands. Her hips convulsed, and Lana felt wet, warm flesh close in around her fingers as Mia's orgasm squeezed them.
Lana kissed the inside of Mia's thigh devoutly before Mia pulled her back up again. Lana helped guide Mia's shaking fingers around herself as the two women adjusted to a new position on their sides, to help Lana finish. In a few seconds, Mia's fingers moved earnestly up and down her shaft.
Lana's mouth opened in a soft groan. She leaned backwards, and Mia's started softly nibbling at the pulse on her neck. Every stroke put her closer and closer to the edge. Mia's orgasms almost always got Lana close enough without this. And something about the way Mia looked after she came did so much to her. All half-lidded and smoky eyes, swollen lips, and mouth parted in remaining ecstasy was so erotic that Lana couldn't get enough of it. She loved watching Mia's face.
When Lana came, the waves of pleasure were so intense that she had to grab Mia's hand to stop her clever fingers before everything became too painful. Mia seized Lana's mouth in a fierce kiss when it opened to speak her name. Mia's reverent hand soon became coated with Lana's semen. In that quiet dark, Lana felt raw and feminine.
They lay breathless against each other, while the twinkling starry night of Paris bathed them in its glow.
And in that moment, Mia knew that she was holding the best thing that she ever would. And something about the realization made her want to cry.
Lana immediately fumbled to click on the lamp before pulling Mia close. Her teal eyes were frantic with worry as they darted across Mia's body, looking for the source of her pain.
"Mia? Did I hurt you?"
Mia shook her head quickly, still unable to exactly articulate herself yet. She bit her lip to hold back the sob. Lana's gentle attentions and worry almost made everything worse.
"Mia?"
"Oh Lana," Mia choked out. "This world was never meant for someone as beautiful as you."
Mia pressed her face into Lana's collarbone, right under her chin where everything would always be safe. Despite the horrors of it and despite what it had stolen from them both, here in Lana's arms was where she'd always feel safe.
Lana looked relieved at this, but her eyes misted. She tucked Mia further into her and wrapped her arms around her lover's back. She held Mia tight, feeling her soft body curve perfectly into her own. Her hand found its usual spot against the back of Mia's hair, smoothing it down with delicate and comforting motions.
As Mia's breath settled and slowed into the relaxing rhythm of sleep, Lana finally whispered the words she'd always been embarrassed and afraid to say back.
They were in Paris, and she was in love.