Grief can feel like an insurmountable weight. It's the fragile thread of hope for what lies ahead that offers us the strength to navigate our pain; envisioning a future where joy can coexist with our sorrow.
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The loss of Sage and Tatum's found f...
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Sage is doing their best to help load the bus as Tara approaches. However much Tatum will let them, anyway. "Wanna sit by me?"
Sage beams, their stomach somersaulting each time the woman is in their vicinity. Sage blinks at her. "Duh."
Something about Tara eases them. Her comedic timing and respect for boundaries never hurt her case. Sage swoops hair out of their face, chuckling to themself. Tara leans over, knocking her shoulder into theirs. "What?"
"Sounds like we're in elementary school again."
"Ooh, and I've got a crush," Tara titters.
Oh, god.
Tara receives a feined slap, her face displaying betrayal. This is turning their head into mush. Maybe they're still out of it. It's an overwhelming swirl of dizziness and disorientation.
They weren't searching for the rush of connection, but it's a welcome distraction. Amid the muck of grief, joy shines as a beacon—a celebration of humanity's complexities. Striking that balance is a delicate art.
Tara chuckles, nerves ushering in. "Hey, I'm just being honest!"
Sage raises an eyebrow, courage embodying them. "Prove it?" They share a smirk and Tara clasps her hand into Sage's. "C'mere."
Out of the view of the nosy group, they find themselves on the other side of the bus. Sage is softly pressed against the metal frame. "This okay?" Tara asks as her hands slide on either side of their waist.
An exasperated whisper makes its way out of Sage's mouth. "Definitely." Tara smiles, rubbing circles into her back. The tension grows from a low simmer to a full-on rolling boil. Her hand moves to push Sage's hair behind their ears. They close their eyes while Tara's feather-light touch traces their jawline.
Her palm lays against skin and their eyes flutter open, Tara drinking in their features. Tara pauses mere inches from Sage's full lips. "Would this... be OK?"
"Just kiss me you dork," Sage begs.
Tara leans in, eyelashes fanning against her cheeks and Sage mirrors her. They pull Tara against their chest with need, lips finally meeting. Sage slinks into her arms, the bliss of connection encapsulating them. I nearly forgot what it felt like.
The greenery around them fades to a glowing warmth. The only thing that matters now is the thoughts looping in Sage's mind. For days they've wondered what it would be like to kiss Tara; what it would feel like to get lost in it. Their lips move in sync, hands in hair, and every touch is gentle but longing. Cautious movements are overcome with desire, threatening to swallow them whole. Tara can't help but bunch her fingers into the hem of Sage's top, her composure slipping.
"Aye, we got places to-" Daryl interrupts. He pauses, shifting his weight between his feet. The pair find his fluster hilarious. Daryl leaves them to it as they start to giggle. "Sorry," Sage speaks to his back as he disappears around the bus.
