13. lollipop

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Minors aren't allowed to smoke, you know, Reze says as the supermarket doors close behind them. It's already night: the street lights have switched on, bathing the alley in a pale sickly white. Something crinkles. Makima's pulled out a small packet from the bag; she hands it to Reze.

A lolly?

Makima's smile widens. A treat. For being good. She prises away the lollipop from Reze's hand — carefully peels away the wrapping — FLAVOUR BOMB in cheesy sans. Open wide.

It tastes like cherries, tart and sweet on her tongue. The red-haired woman smiles down at her and Reze instinctively closes her eyes as a hand twines its way around Reze's neck. Brushes her scalp. Reze's breath catches in her throat as Makima pulls her into a hug. They stand in that alleyway – Makima's tall frame enveloping Reze's own with that sudden raw ache in her chest — inhaling the bitterness on her tongue and the mustiness of Makima's coat and always that soft stroking of the other woman's fluttering fingers sending pinpricks down her neck.

Keep being good. Makima's voice is low against Reze's hair. Then you won't have to cash in any favours.

After what seems like eternity, Makima lets go.

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