Mercilessly

[archiveofarethusa]

It felt like drowning. People said that about kissing, but they never meant it really. Drowning was helpless, palpable fear and not being able to scream but needing it just as much as the breath you might never take again. There was nothing of desire. When Helene kissed Vera, she was a merciless swath of waves and Vera was a prisoner of her undertow and it was drowning, sure as day.

Only not. There was war in the sheets with them, but Vera threw herself in willingly.

"Say you're mine," Helene hissed, less loving every anniversary.

"Always," Vera lied, and, shuddering, went under.