𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 (𝐖𝐋𝐖)

𝟏𝟑

The brunette squeezed her eyes tight shut as she accepted the comforting action. She wrapped her arms around the taller's neck and snuggled into her unbuttoned dress shirt.

Earlier on in the day when Aurora had finished up with work, and Iris and Ariella baking Christmas dedicated treats, they had set up a fort for a movie night. Aurora hadn't brought any extra clothing for her to change into, so she had only slipped off her coat and slightly unbuttoned her top— pushing her sleeves over her elbows. 

The three laughed, stuffed they're faces with sweets (mainly Ariella taking advantage of the opportunity), and cuddled underneath one of the blankets that was a part of Iris' collection.

After a movie and a half Ariella was passed out. The caring mother had wiped her daughter's face clean of chocolate before tucking her into the guest bed as Iris cleaned up the mess that was made.

Somewhere in between the blonde helping Iris place the pillows on the couch, they'd managed to find their way back onto this ongoing topic.

Now they stood wrapped in one another's embrace.

After a while of taking in each other's presence, the brunette started to talk again.

"You probably think I'm weak." Iris whispered out into Aurora's chest, her eyes now being downcast onto the wooden floors of her home. 

With a visible frown, Aurora lifted Iris' head with her fingers and gently held the woman's face in her hands. She instantly did not like how many tears were shed by her lover. Cold fingers dressed in heavy jewelry brushed across the warm tears that had escaped from coffee brown eyes. The blonde took advantage of Iris' vulnerability and began to study her face; the woman's wet lashes, her full and rosy lips, the dimples that showed themselves whenever she made even the slightest movement with her mouth, and her dilated pupils — which reflected off the light above them — causing a sparkle to shine brightly in her eyes.

Lover.

That's what Aurora had called Iris.

Her lover.

For once in her life, the confidence that radiated off of the blonde had diminished.

She wasn't sure if she was ready to classify the other woman with such a title.

Not because it wasn't true.

But because she felt as if it was too early. Too early to fully admit her feelings. Too early to fully accept the brunette as hers and only hers. Too early to make love rather than just a mutual intercourse. Too early to say 'I love you.'

Iris parted her lips to speak again, assuming that her accusation was right. Yet, Aurora laughed lowly and brought her face closer to the shorter woman's.

"I don't think you're weak." She admitted with a smile,"I think you're so much more than what you think of yourself. If you think crying is a sign of weakness than to hell with me because I cry all the time. Over my daughter's future. Over my past. Over my fucked-up family. I cry so much that you'd think I have no source of happiness in my life. But I do. You do. Whether it's your mom, Phoebe, or even your passion for baking. You're not weak, amore mio. You mean more to me than you think, and I can't bare the thought of you thinking so low of yourself."

There was so much more that the blonde wanted to say, but she finished her speech before it turned into something more.

Every word hit Iris deeply. She felt every emotion that came from Aurora. Those words were now engraved into her mind— her heart. She loved them so much that you'd think she would go get it all tattooed on her body.