It's Always Have

When I reached the bottom, the elevator doors opened and there was someone waiting for me. She was beautiful. She had long, straight, dark brown hair that touched near her waist, and a stunning shade of hazel eyes. She had long eyelashes, and, even though she was wearing no makeup, she was easily the prettiest girl I had ever seen. My heartrate picked up, as it always did whenever I saw an attractive girl. She was dressed in what Bradley had described as typical-Agency garb; a white labcoat with a black shirt and slacks underneath. Her shoes were heels, entirely different from my combat boots. I really did stand out here. She was looking me over as I was looking her over. I also noticed that she, strangely, was wearing a pair of black leather gloves. She held out one of those gloved hands. "Spencer," she said. "You're Bradley's second?"

'Bradley's second.' Yes, I guess, technically. "Yes," I said out loud. I took her hand and shook it. "Nicole."

I felt . . . something, shaking her hand. A spark of . . . something. She was looking down at her hands. I wondered if she'd felt it, too.

-

or, two lesbians fall in love in a post-apocalyptic society