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Charis chapter 7

Soft kisses flutter against her throat and her entirely body burns with desire. She pulls her shirt over her head and pants roughly as hot kisses are pressed against her ribs, her stomach, lower and lower, closer but never close enough. Her fingers thread through soft blonde hair and she pulls her lover's mouth to where she most needs it.
"Grace!"
Hannah wakes with a start. Almost two months have passed since Grace kissed her and the dreams are becoming more and more frequent. Hannah thought they'd cleared the air when Mamrie had forced them to talk, but she hasn't seen Grace in person since, and apart from an awkward text or two they haven't talked. Hannah supposes it's good, that they should take the time to process everything before trying to be around each other, but it seems like rather than clearing the air all she's done is reawaken her feelings for Grace. The memory of the kiss seems to overshadow everything they'd said the next day, the sensation on Grace's lips on hers feels like the most honest thing the two of them have done in years.
She heads for the bathroom and turns the shower to cold. As she shivers under the spray the last dregs of the dream fade away and she feels slightly more in control of herself. She heads into the office and lets the minutiae of work overtake her. It isn't until she stops for some actual food after a nerve wracking 'lunch' meeting that she even bothers to glance at her phone. She has a message from Mamrie.
Hey, are you free tonight?
Hannah smiles at her phone.
Sure, what time?
Around nine? Come by my place
Should I bring anything?
Just you.
Hannah sends a message to Eric to let him know she'll be out late and the rest of the day gets a lot easier knowing she'll be seeing Mamrie at the end of it. She stays in the office until eight, then fights her way through traffic until she reaches Mamrie's building at almost ten past nine. Mamrie pulls her in to the apartment and a warm hug before pressing a mug of her favourite tea into her hands.
"Have you eaten?" Mamrie asks.
"Not yet."
"Thai?"
Hannah grins and they move to the couch, huddling together to see the menu on Mamrie's laptop screen. Finally the food is ordered and Hannah leans against Mamrie affectionately, sipping her tea.
"How's work?" Hannah asks and feels Mamrie's slight shrug.
"Busy. I've had a couple of offers for the place, I'm thinking about opening another one. Maybe franchising out."
"Wow, that's great!"
"Yeah, but it's a lot of work. I'm starting to wonder if I shouldn't get Grace to do all the boring bits and I could just go tend bar again, you know?"
Hannah shifts a little at the mention of Grace's name and changes the subject.
"Yeah, I know that feeling. I had this meeting today with this absolute douchebag..."
She tells the story with tired humour and Mamrie chuckles softly, but Hannah can feel a tension building between them. She falls silent and takes another gulp of the lukewarm tea.
"What, Mames? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Have you talked to Grace since we were at your house?"
"Just a couple of texts," Hannah tells her, trying not to blush as her dream from the previous night comes back to her, "we promised we'd talk to you instead, remember?"
"Yeah," Mamrie says wryly.
Hannah bites her lip.
"Why?" She asks, her curiosity finally getting the better of her.
"Because Grace has been talking to me about it, even if you haven't."
"I don't have anything else to say," Hannah replies, the lie slipping from her almost automatically. Mamrie snorts.
"Yeah, you said enough the first time."
"What?"
Mamrie rolls her eyes, but drags Hannah into an awkward one-armed hug.
"Okay, listen. Jesus, I can't believe I'm actually - this is like high school."
"Mamrie."
"You told her you love her."
"What? No I didn't." Her denial is immediate before she remembers. "Shit, I did."
"Yeah. Not loved. Love."
"I..."
"Do you?"
Hannah opens her mouth to reply but Mamrie holds up a hand.
"I need to know the truth, Hannah. It's important."
Hannah shakes her head, so sick of all of this.
"It doesn't matter, Mamrie. Grace and I are done. I'm married. End of story."
Mamrie starts to respond but she's interrupted by the door buzzer. She shoots a look at Hannah before going to accept their food and Hannah grabs plates and cutlery, setting the table for them. They eat quietly, swapping dishes back and forth and Hannah can barely stand the compassion on Mamrie's face.
"Stop it."
"What?"
"Stop looking at me like that. Grace and I are over," she insists again, "we agreed."
"Yeah, you did," Mamrie says gently and reaches across the table to take her hand, "but sweetheart, you still love her, don't you?"
Hannah fights down the lump in her throat and nods miserably.
"I don't know how to stop," she confesses.
They finish their meal and wash the dishes together and by the time midnight rolls around they're back on the couch, some dumb reality show murmuring in the background.
"After we talked at your place," Mamrie says uncertainly, like she's not sure she should be speaking, "Grace called me. She said that was the first time you'd told her how you feel since the day we lost you."
Hannah's heart starts to pound.
"Please don't," she whispers.
"She's always told me she doesn't know what she feels for you. She never knew if it was love or just something tangled up from the whole Eris mess. She said that hearing you say it out loud, just like that, it made her realise."
"Mamrie," Hannah pleads.
"I really don't know who she's been kidding. She ran just as hard as you did when things fell apart. God knows you two have been nothing but a disaster but she told me-"
"Stop!" Hannah shouts, standing abruptly. Mamrie stops talking but keeps looking at her, that same compassion in her eyes.
"I have to go," Hannah says and almost runs from the apartment. She doesn't trust herself to drive so she heads for the subway, wanting to get lost in the crowd the way she did when she first moved here. She moves on autopilot, trying not to think, filled with hope and angry at herself for hoping. It isn't until she steps back out into the night air that she realises where her feet have taken her. Not towards home, but to the station three streets away from Grace's apartment. She exhales sharply, suddenly furious with Grace for still having this hold over her. She storms down the street and pounds on the intercom, not caring that it's late enough to almost be early.
"Hello?" Grace's voice is hoarse with sleep.
"Let me in," Hannah commands.
"Hannah? What-"
"Let me in," Hannah repeats coldly. There's a long silence and then the drone of the door being released. Hannah takes the elevator to the floor below Grace's and takes the stairs the rest of the way, hoping the exertion will keep the momentum of her anger going. Her hands are sweating as she hammers on the door and when Grace opens it, she pushes through and into the apartment.
"What the hell did you say to Mamrie?" She demands.
Grace is rubbing at her face but stops, frozen, for an instant.
"What did she say?" She asks carefully, obviously still trying to wake up enough for this conversation.
"Nothing. I didn't let her!"
"Then what-?"
"Shut up, Grace. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
In her anger she lisps slightly over the name and Grace's eyes dart to her lips. It makes Hannah angry, and even angrier that she noticed it. Grace takes a breath, apparently gathering her courage.
"You said you love me."
"So what? You already knew that!"
"You've never said it to me before. Not the actual words."
"Of course I have!"
"No. You haven't."
Hannah sputters, too outraged to counter such a ridiculous statement, when Grace speaks again.
"I love you too."
She stops. Everything stops.
"What." She says dully, not a question.
"I'm in love with you." Grace says it so readily, with such confidence, like she hasn't just shattered Hannah into pieces. "I finally stopped lying to myself. I love you."
Hannah knows, intellectually, that the world has not fallen silent. She knows there are still cars rolling by; pedestrians talking; all the normal sounds of New York at night, but she doesn't hear them. All she hears is the roar of adrenaline and Grace's words echoing through her mind.
"I know this isn't what you want to hear, and I'm sorry-"
Hannah snaps out of it, her anger returning in a split second.
"No. You don't get to do that."
She steps closer, into Grace's personal space and to her surprise actually shoves the other woman a little. Grace steps back, hands raised pleadingly.
"Hannah, please, just let me-"
Hannah pushes her again, a little more roughly.
"You love me?" She asks incredulously. "You love me? Now?! Where was this that day in the restaurant? Where was this when..."
Hannah's words run dry and she shoves her again. Grace's back hits the wall with a thump and she grunts, but there's no fear in her eyes. There's just a heat Hannah recognises all too well and before she can stop herself, she presses Grace into the wall with her body and kisses her.
Grace's hands are in her hair.
Grace's stomach is pressed against hers.
Grace's lips are working their way down her throat, tiny nips and feather kisses sending shockwaves through her whole body.
Grace is turning them, reversing their positions so its Hannah being held against the wall, and whispering in her ear between kisses.
"I love you. I do, I love you. I miss you so much, please Hannah just let me touch you, please?"
"God," Hannah says harshly, "yes."
Grace pulls impatiently at her shirt and Hannah thinks she might have lost a button but then Grace's hands are on her skin and she doesn't care about anything. Grace's lips hit her throat just as her hands hit Hannah's pants, undoing them easily and letting them drop to pool around Hannah's ankles. Hannah steps out of them without even realising, too busy being overwhelmed by Grace's tender assault. It isn't until Grace drops to her knees that she realises she's naked but for her panties. Grace kisses her ribs, her stomach, nuzzles at her belly button and then looks up at Hannah with brown eyes shining with joy.
"I love you," she says again, like it's a relief to say the words out loud and Hannah smiles at her.
"I love you too."
They make love for hours. Sometimes they're gentle, almost hesitant, as if learning each other all over again. A couple of times they get rougher, purging themselves of the last anger and frustration they've both caused each other, biting and scratching and gripping a little too hard. They shower together as the sun starts to rise and Grace strips the bed as Hannah goes in search of food, finally settling on some chopped fruit and yoghurt. She brings it through to the bedroom as Grace throws a clean sheet on the bed and they settle in together, sharing the light breakfast and watching the small change. Without warning, Grace giggles.
"What?" Hannah asks fondly.
"Nothing." She laughs again and Hannah can't help chuckling a little in response.
"What? Come on," she wines slightly.
"No, it's just...man, Mamrie is going to kill us."
There's a moment's silence and then the room is filled with their laughter.