Gotcha

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     Feeling refreshed and renewed, I practically float around the apartment the next few days like a cloud is carrying me on its back. The General doesn't call, Leon doesn't text, and I can almost say that I'm on vacation. And Lost, oh Lost, she's perfect. We've come to a contented ground where we're, not grossly affectionate, but more or less like a couple who've found their safe place. Nights are spent together, sometimes wrapped up in one another, sometimes not. Mornings are routine and separate, yet together. Our worlds are our own but they intersect just where we need them to. It's how I imagine healthy marriages to be.
     Lost comes homes late, later than she said she'd be, and I greet her as she comes down the hall. She's been going to Tiffany's shop or The Black Hound to see how things are going, or sometimes does a little job for a less than fortunate creature. I don't mind at all, and have found myself going out, too, to see Joanne or Tiffany or to say hi to someone Lost has helped. I've become a little famous in the underground thanks to Lost. I'm the untouchable human, Lost's mate, red haired beauty (this one I like), or simply Miss, to those who are unsure what to call me. It's nice, actually, to know I'll be safe wherever I go. There's always someone there to watch or help me if I need it.
     "You won't believe it," Lost says, giving me a brisk hug. She scratches the top of her head, ruffling her hair. She's gotten a haircut recently- a flattering pixie cut. Silky strands hang down to her eyebrows and sweep to the right charmingly. The tips have curled by her ears where she's been obviously sweating. "They've spotted her, Isa. Two cities over. We have to tell Deanna."
     I expected this at some point. Isa was bound to be spotted, sooner thanks to Lost's growing network of magical friends. "I'll tell her, but they haven't contacted me with any kind of plan."
     "Don't you see, though? Now that we know where she is, we can build a plan. We can scope out the place and take her out! Isn't this exciting?"
     "It is. I'll text Leon now."
     Lost kicks off her shoes and throws them into her room as I fish out my phone to tell Leon the news. She hovers over my shoulder and watches me text, her breath ghosting over my cheek. I swat at her and she jumps away, then chuckles and swats me right back, right on the bottom. I roll my eyes and finish my message then send it.
     "Are you going to behave when the plan comes in?" I ask her, turning. "You're not going to deviate from it?"
     "If it's a good plan, no."
     "Lost..."
     She shrugs and skirts me to get to the kitchen. "I'm not going to lie to you. If I see an opening, within the plan, of course, I'm going to take it. Isa isn't coming out alive, I assure you."
     I scratch my forehead and sigh. "At least you're honest."
     Lost spins primly on her heel and raises an eyebrow at me. She looks like a devious dancer, and I appreciate the weight, and muscle, she's gained recently. "Are you going to follow the plan?" she asks, almost mocking my earlier tone. "No running where magic can get you?"
     "I'll do what I can, but I know my humanly limits. If I can help it I'll try to stay out of the magical portion of things."
     "Good." She zooms to me and kisses my temple. "Oh, speaking of..." She digs into her back pocket and brings out a slim, velvet covered box. "Open it."
     Suspicious, I take the box and flip it around in my hand. "What is it?"
     "Open it and find out. Surprises are more enjoyed when they remain surprises."
     Humming, I play with the box for another moment, then finally open it. I don't know what I expected, but I find a delicate bracelet sitting on a plush pillow, gleaming at me. I snap my head up. "What's this?"
     Lost takes the bracelet out of the box and opens the clasp. "It's a bracelet, of course. I had it commissioned just for you. Here." She holds out the bracelet and waits for me to offer up my wrist. When I do, she closes the fine jewelry around my wrist and clasps it shut. It's a perfect fit.
     "Lost... Wow."
     She shrugs and takes the empty box from me. "I have protection, so you need protection, too. Precautions, remember?"
     "This is magical?"
     "Very. I called on almost every favor I have. It should prevent magic from touching you in a harmful way, but, honestly, I'm unsure if it works. There's pixie dust in there- nothing devious- mermaid scales, silver, night virus, wolf's saliva, siren's lullaby, leprechaun luck, and a few other things. Oh, and there's your own hair and blood. It's tailored just for you."
     I gape at the fancy piece on my wrist. "How did you get my...?"
     "Hair and blood? Took a strand while you were sleeping, sorry about that, and stole a sample from your toiletries. Moon's blood is much more potent for females. The uterus is a powerful thing. Life and all. Even spent cells. Clean, too."
     My face twists in disgust. "You stole... my period blood?"
     She smiles awkwardly. "I mean, you were going to throw it out anyway. This is a much better use, don't you think?"
     I want to gag, maybe, or cry from laughter. The fact that my menstruation is absolutely no big deal to Lost is refreshing, but now I have to wear traces of the remains on my wrist? Definitely gross. Then again, there's wolf's saliva in the bracelet, too, apparently, so I should probably get used to bodily fluids and normalize them the way Lost does.
     "Okay," I eventually say, fingering my new accessory. "You did work hard on this, I suppose."
     Lost beams. "It will protect you always."
     "Thank you." And I mean it. I hadn't thought of getting a charm or amulet for myself, but I'm glad Lost did. It's more special to me because Lost had it specifically made for my person. It's sweet.
     Still beaming, Lost leans in for a kiss, and when she pulls back her eyes are clouding over with untainted white. Over the last few days I've come to realize that the whiteness comes whenever Lost feels loving, or love. It's beautiful and I can tell when she's feeling strongly about me without her having to say so. It's reassuring.
     The white seeps away after a minute, but the rims of her pupils remain blank, giving her eyes a ring of nothing in all the blackness. It creeped me out the first time that happened, though it doesn't now with the knowledge of what it means.
      "Shall we go out tonight?" Lost asks, wiggling her eyebrows. We've gone out on two actual dates so far, with the 'vacation' and all. Dinner and a movie the first night then dinner and dancing on the second. It was scandalously fun, I admit.
     "If we do you have to wear your glasses," I tell her. Last time Lost's eyes glowed so heavenly that someone noticed and made a scene. It's one thing for her eyes to glow their aroused brightness, but she can control that now and keep her lust contained if she so wishes. The love she can't hide to save her life. So we got her special sunglasses that'll hide the white if it happens.
     Lost groans and pouts. "They make everything so dark."
     "You can see relatively well in the dark," I point out.
     She sticks out her tongue. "Barely."
     "I don't want another incident. Wear them? Please?"
     "... Fine." She makes a face and turns away, back to the kitchen. "Can you wear that skirt, then?"
     I roll my eyes. Tit for tat is what she's after. On our first date we crossed this clothing store and I ended up buying a skirt too short for my tastes simply because Lost was ecstatic about it. It's pretty, classy if coupled with the right top, but I'm a little self conscious. I've gained a bit of weight thanks to Lost's devil may care eating habits and I don't feel comfortable in anything too revealing. I'm not overweight, at least I don't think so, but I'm getting a noticeable muffin top. My legs aren't exactly defined, either. Skirts and dresses are my kryptonite.
     "You'd look lovely in it," Lost says when I remain quiet. "A true beauty. My community already calls you that."
     I move to the kitchen and lean my elbows on it, bent over. "Your community isn't as shallow as mine."
     Lost raises her brows. "True."
     I sigh and bow my head slightly and mumble, "I'd look... fat."
     "What's wrong with that?"
     My head snaps up and I frown. "You're saying I'm fat?" I stand straight. "You already think I'm fat!"
     Startled, Lost rears back from my intensity. "I- what? I just... I don't understand."
     "You think I'm fat, don't you?" I accuse.
     "I think your body is gorgeous, every aspect of it. You think you're fat. What I don't understand is- so what? Fat and beautiful aren't mutually exclusive. You can be fat and lovely. Fat doesn't equal ugly, you know."
     Cheeks warm, I look away. "I know that... I mean, I want to believe that..."
     "You have fat, Kahlan. We all do. It doesn't define you- fat, weight, all that nonsense- doesn't define you. Humans are so confused on the subject, I swear."
     I find myself chuckling at Lost's straight attitude. She has no grasp of negative self image. I can see why, being as she only sees beautiful. "I don't feel comfortable in that skirt," I admit. I shouldn't have bought it in the first place.
     "I'm sorry. Don't wear it." She takes a step to me. "Wear whatever you feel comfortable in."
     I smile sheepishly. "I'm sorry I got so mad about, you know, the fat thing. I can't help it. Thin is what my community cherishes."
     Lost scrunches her nose. "I don't see why. My people enjoy it. I like your fat."
     "Lost!"
     "What? It's true. It means you're healthy. It keeps you warm and gives you strength and feeds your body." She shrugs. "And you look delicious when you ride me and move around."
     My face warms. "Oh, my God, Lost, you have no filter." I got on top of her once in a moment of boldness (we nervously bought a toy for the bedroom and I wanted to test it in that position) and apparently she loved it.
     "Well, what should I say?"
     "Nothing. Forget it. I'll work on my body positivity." I turn away so Lost won't see my growing blush, even though I know she can feel it. I'm still unsure about my body but it's hot knowing Lost practically worships what I have. It makes me feel a little better about my growing chubbiness.
     "We can work out together, if you want," Lost offers. "I love you just the way you are but if you want to change I'll love what you do."
     "Thanks." It's nice that she wants to help me better myself. But I'll push this back to another time. So I change the subject. "Where should we go tonight?"

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