Chapter Text
These nights of quiet rest are precious, when the days are filled with fight after fight. Brighid puts her journal down and pretends not to notice when she feels a faint prickle at the back of her neck, but smiles nonetheless.
“Something on your mind, Lady Mòrag?”
Mòrag is staring. Not in the way a stalking volff would watch a bunnit, but… Brighid can still feel her steady gaze pressing through her very being, warmth beyond her own flames. She's in one of those moods, is she?
“It’s nothing,” Mòrag says.
But she’s still staring. It’s a mere game at this point, and Brighid sits on the edge of the bed beside Mòrag to gently cup her face in both hands.
“Be honest with me.”
“Ah, then…” Part of a grin slips out, and Mòrag places a hand over Brighid’s. “I was simply thinking about how beautiful you are, Brighid.”
“What a coincidence, so was I.”
They don’t need to talk anymore. All that’s left in the space of this room are the soft sounds of their kissing.
Unfortunately, they’d somehow completely forgotten the third presence in the room, currently crouching on the bed at the other corner. Nia hisses.
“I’m gonna shred both your faces into ribbons if you two keep that up, I swear—“