One Heart

10. Let go

Kensie held her palm against the bedroom door as she closed it in silence. The moonlight glistened off her cheek, the tears she'd held until she was alone. She'd waited downstairs long enough for Sora to cry herself to sleep before making her way up to the bedroom.

It was unheard of for a queen to refuse her Ahein Rah, but Sorah was no regular queen. She was as good as human. And she was afraid. Afraid of love, and the potential loss that went with it. And who could blame her?

The room smelled of Sorah. Her coconut shampoo on the pillow, the sweet smell of strawberries on the sheets—all combined with her natural fragrance. Tears pricked at Kensie's eyes as she slid into bed.

Sleep didn't come easy. Too many thoughts, all travelling her mind. All on Sorah.

On the other side of the hall a door creaked on its hinges. Kensie stood, a heavy weight settling in her abdomen. All that stood between them was her bedroom door. Together they held their breath, their heartbeats racing in time.

Then there was nothing. Sorah shifted, then stilled.

If she closed her eyes, Kensie could feel Sorah on the other side. Could feel the heat of her body, hear the way her heart raced and the air filled her lungs. She leant her head against the wood, the pine scent doing nothing to cover Sorah's.

Still, no movement.

There was too much space between them. Kensie couldn't stand it. She gripped the handle, turning it in a slow, smooth arc before opening the door.

Sorah's eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks stained with tears. She was so small standing barefoot on the carpet, her shoes the only item of clothing she'd bothered to remove. So small, and so scared. She'd lost so much already.

There would never come a day, not in her entire existence, that Kensie would deny Sorah a thing. She was her queen, deserving of all the love and protection in the world. So Kensie bridged the gap between them, wrapping Sorah up in her embrace. The weight of the evening fell away. They both sighed, easing into one another, as though the hours spent apart had been days.

"Kensie," Sorah whispered into her chest. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't need to be." Kensie walked them back into the room, closing the door behind her to shut out the rest of the world. "You're scared." She held Sorah's face in her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I'm scared too."

Something in Sorah's expression broke. Her sadness, her fear, melted into concern. "You are?"

Fear made Kensie feel alive. It meant she had something to live for. So often in the past she'd controlled it. She didn't have time to fear Isha's death; she was ripped from her in seconds. From that loss came an irrational fear for the safety of her family, but she'd pushed that down deep enough not to notice it.

Sorah made Kensie feel a kind of fear that was foreign. It burned hotter than any other she'd felt before. But it was worth it—this monumental connection. Sorah was worth everything.

"Are you alright?" Sorah looked up, the moonlight reflecting off her eyes.

Kensie smiled, leant forward, and brought her lips to Sorah's. The kiss was slow at first. It was enough for their lips to be touching, to feel the softness and warmth. Then it grew heated as they both opened up to one another, expressing their desire with more confidence.

***

Sorah

Sorah wasn't nervous. She'd never been so sure about anything in her life. Because she wasn't in this alone. They both feared what could come of such a monumental connection, but it was worth it. She would give up anything and everything to keep it.