Supernova Stories

short 11

wholesome <3

Keeping the calm before the storm was always a phrase Celine followed instinctively. On the outside, she was nothing but calm, cool, and collected, but if anyone was able to peek into her mind for more than a few seconds at a time, they would see the storm that she kept tucked away in the deep parts of her temporal lobe. She was the only one who understood how strong, or maybe how weak, she was, and how easy it would be to snap at any point in time; whether she was prepared for it or not. The people who claimed to be close to her weren't even aware of what the detective was truly capable of if she was pushed past a certain point. Maybe she got the anger issues from her father, or perhaps it had something to do with the bullying she experienced in High School that created so much pent-up resentment that any small inconvenience could cause a cloudburst. But behind the thunder and lightning, as the saying goes, there was calm. It wasn't necessarily as much of a sweet, peaceful calm as it was a disheartening, lonely calm, but it was calm that at least helped her sleep at night. Working in a field that had you on your toes at all times also required that person to have a state of mind that they could retreat to if things got heated. If someone was pointing a gun at them, or if they had to investigate the most tragic homicide of an innocent, six-year-old girl, they needed something or someone to confide in. In Celine's case, her haven was either the deep, peaceful calm of her mind, or it was Redwood.

Being with Redwood unlocked a different peace that she wouldn't have been able to accomplish on her own, it made her feel warm internally and externally. Redwood could read her like a book, and it only took a matter of seconds to be able to look into her eyes and read her thoughts. On any regular day, Redwood could find himself gazing into her eyes for minutes on end until she pointed it out to embarrass him, but on her bad days, he wouldn't be able to look into her eyes. He would rather Celine be in his arms with her head buried within his brown trench coat. Sometimes he swore he could feel his coat dampening where his partner's head rested, but she always swore she wasn't crying.

"Celine, I hear you sniffling." his soft voice would echo in the emptiness of the break room as he gently adjusted his hands to her face, trying to tilt her head upwards to be able to see her freckled skin. She felt the woman against him almost immediately turn her head away from him and back into his coat.

"Du tout," Celine finally spoke, her grip on the male's back tightening, "I'm just tired. I just want to go home." Her voice was soft, and it seemed exhausted through her natural French accent. On a normal day, Redwood would believe her, but he knew a certain case was bothering her. It had been on her mind for weeks, but sadly he couldn't go into her head and remove the thought of it.

"You're speaking in French." Redwood began again, relocating his hand from the woman's face to the back of her hair below her hat. "You only talk to me in French when you're upset. Why do you do that?"

"Because American English is a stupid language."

"Would you rather British English?" A fast response came from Redwood, an obvious tease.

"Do you think you're funny?" the blonde responded, turning her head upwards to finally make eye contact with her partner. The black, cloth medical mask that usually covered the large scar around her mouth area was crooked and close to falling off her face. Her skin itself was tinted redder than it usually was, due to the heat of leaning her face against the man in front of her for an elongated moment. Redwood wasn't dense, he picked up on the obvious twinge of annoyance in her voice, but he wasn't done toying with her.

"I'd like to think I am," he responded again, using both of his hands now to take a few moments and fix Celine's mask. The way it was angled and nearly falling off of her face seemed uncomfortable to him, and if he wanted anything in the world the most, it was for Celine to be comfortable and happy...Even though his current teasing seemed to defy that last wish of his.

"You're not. I really don't think you're funny at all actually, and you don't even know--"

"Hush, your mask is going to fall again."

Celine was cut off, but it didn't make her any more upset than she already was. Normally she would be fuming; she couldn't hate anything more in the world than being interrupted. But Redwood's voice calmed her. He could say absolutely anything and she would feel like the luckiest woman on Earth just because she got to hear it. She stood in silence, leaving her body leaning against the taller male in front of her as her foggy blue eyes watched his dart back and forth across her face while her mask was being carefully adjusted. Then her eyes met his brown irises and she felt instantly at ease.

"There. Is that more comfortable?" he spoke again, his voice softer as if he was talking carefully to prevent a sudden thunderstorm.

Celine's head tilted up and down by her own free will in response. She was lost in the defining features of his face and she almost wished that her mask had fallen off just so she could feel their lips touch. But then, thinking about her mask being off at all almost made the waterworks begin again. Her eyes, which now had a clearer saddening shine to them, lowered away from Redwood's eyes and met the brown coat he wore instead.

Red noticed her gaze shift away and his eyes softened and seemed to sadden with Celine's. "How about this", he began again, now taking the time to notice that his hands remained still on her face, but making no effort to change it. "Make it through the rest of our shift, and you can come to my apartment afterward. We'll watch any movie you want, and I'll cook dinner. Does that sound good?"

Celine's eyes quickly darted back up to her partner's and there was a clear sparkle evident in the blueness of them. It was hard to tell if the glistening was because of her tears, or if it was her pure excitement showing through. Redwood could only assume the latter.

"Can we watch Masculin Feminin?" The woman's voice continued the conversation with the recommendation of her favorite movie, pure joy seeping into her sweet accent like vanilla being soaked into a bowl of cake batter.

The other let out a small chuckle and made a joking eye-roll motion before he responded.

"Again? You must have that movie's script memorized by now."

"Of course I do", she responded matter of factly, her provoking grin hidden under her mask, "But if you don't want to watch it, we'll watch a different one." Celine's recommendation came out extremely easy, it was almost odd how okay she was about not watching one of her favorite movies. It made Redwood raise a brow.

"Oh really? What other movie did you have in mind?" It was hard for him to internalize his curiosity. Celine was the kind of person who hated change, and she was one of the most stubborn people Redwood could name off the top of his head.

"Je t'aime," Celine said out loud in response, but the emphasis on certain syllables and the tone of her voice made Redwood think she wasn't done speaking. "je t'aime, Redwood."

The male thought more about the context and the use of his name in the 'movie title'. Having Celine repeat the phrase without him asking helped him understand too easily. He had known Celine for years, and throughout all of those years, he wouldn't be able to count the number of times she recommended a new French romance movie to him while simultaneously wreaking critical havoc on classic American romance films. Maybe he would say he figured out the translation on his own, and he didn't remember hearing it in a movie, just to impress her. A soft grin exposed itself on his face before he spoke again.

"I love you too, mon amour." his response erupted in a tone that nearly sounded like the soft, distant ringing of an afternoon bell, calling the conscious of a little, freckled French girl to come back home and into the arms of the one she loved most. Or maybe that bell wasn't a bell at all, and she had only mistaken the sweet sound of her lover's voice as such. Even if that was the case, she would rather listen to the ringing of his voice than any other sound, because it meant she was close enough to hear it.