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It had been a simple question, really. A simple question with, she guessed, a simple answer.
But honestly, Madeline should have known she would be wrong for assuming anything about Verna could ever be simple.
They’d just finished a whole bottle of wine between the two of them, a Pinot Noir, after having some fun between the sheets, when Madeline had started speaking her mind maybe a little too freely. “Do you enjoy it?”
The power, the freedom, the sense of control,… all of it.
She’s found out that Verna doesn't really consider herself to be the cause of faith, exactly, but more so its witness. Madeline doesn’t buy it. She realises she lives a life that probably could not be more different from Verna's, knows she is very limited in her ability to image what that life of hers is like. But what she does know, is that a witness doesn’t go about making deals, striking bargains, or pushing people's future into a certain direction. A witness is a mere spectator of what was bound to happen, no matter if they had been there or not, and Madeline can say for certain that none of those aspects apply to Verna.
Madeline doesn’t know much about Verna’s ‘work’, can only go by the few words she’s spilled on some people to whom she brought down karma. She isn’t sure if what Verna brings along can really be considered faith, but she does know that Verna is more its executioner than its witness.
Verna's answer had come quickly enough, with a nod of her head and a shrug of her shoulder. “I do. Most of it, at least.”
Madeline's next question had come even quicker, as if it had been waiting on the tip of her tongue for far too long. “Do you never feel bad?”
“It’s their faith." She had answered coldly. "It is nothing to feel bad about.” There had been this look of carelessness in Verna's eyes, nonchalance, and Madeline realised she might not know this being as well as she would like to believe, but she has always known that if there is one thing Verna cannot be described with, it is carelessness.
She doesn’t know what possesed her when she asked her next question. Maybe that last bit had struck a sensitive nerve in Madeline’s core, or maybe the wine they had earlier had really gotten to her head then. No matter the reason, Madeline had looked Verna straight in the eyes, fearlessly as always, and asked: “Do you enjoy the knowledge that you’re going to kill me some day soon?”
And apparently that too, had struck a nerve, but with Verna, this time.
Madeline hasn’t seen her since she asked that question, not for two months, actually. She doesn’t care, of course, couldn't give a flying fuck if she never saw her again. At least, that is what she tries to tell herself. She knows she must have made Verna mad in some way. Or worse, maybe even hurt her, and Madeline cannot recall ever caring much about someone else’s feelings, about upsetting them. But with Verna… It feels different. Maybe a part of her has grown fond of that person, beyond the physical relationship they share, and she damns herself for it. She should have known better than to start caring about her and her feelings. Then again, there is no way she could not get attached to Verna. Not after all the great sex they had, anyway.
She would never, ever, admit it out loud, but maybe, just maybe, she sort of misses Verna a tiny little bit. Misses the way she never felt alone, even when they weren't together, somehow always felt her presence in the back of her mind. She hasn't had that feeling lately, feels as though Verna has not only abandoned her physically, but spiritually as well. Madeline has felt alone her entire life, but never before has it felt quite like this. Never before has it been this heavy of a burden. On top of that, she misses Verna's witty remarks and snappy comebacks. Never in her life has Madeline Usher met anyone that truly challenged her, up until she met Verna. She is a worthy opponent, an actual match for her. It’s safe to say she misses having someone like that around, even if when they are together, they rarely talk much. But then again, they don’t need many words. Verna is the only person that Madeline feels she doesn’t have to explain herself to. She just gets her, somehow.
For most of her life, Madeline has been able to regulate (or maybe hide) her feelings fairly well. If the years gone by made her a little bit emotionally constipated, who would be able to tell? But unfortunately so, she still is human. And even Madeline fucking Usher has got some very rare days where all she wants to do is sob her eyes out.
Today has proven to be such a day. A family brunch had seemed to start it all. She had woken up feeling on edge already, and being introduced to Roderick’s very soon to be wife had been the last straw. Not because she was jealous of him, because truthfully, there wasn't anything to be jealous of. Madeline didn’t see even a hint of a spark of love between those two, and highly doubts Roderick’s intentions for marrying this Juno are morally right.
Meeting Juno wasn’t necessarily what upset her.
No, when she had looked around the table the Usher family had been sitting at, everyone had seemed to have brought a plus one. A companion, of some sort. Someone they get to share both the highs and lows of life with.
And who did Madeline have?
All she got at this brunch were Roderick's dumb, concerned eyes and him asking her when she would go out and finally find the love of her life. Madeline can still feel chills run down her spine at that awful question he had asked one time too many. Her entire life, she has been so busy making enemies there was no time left to make friends, let alone to find a true love.
And somehow that thought had struck a particularly sensitive nerve. One she never realised she possessed.
She can’t recall ever having to excuse herself from an event, due to an undeniable urge to cry and scream into a pillow, but as she finally finds herself at home, she guesses there is a first time for everything. By the time her driver has dropped her off, her emotions have run high. Her eyes are hurting with the effort of containing her tears, and her chest is throbbing with the straining feeling of every emotion she has suppressed these last few months. She barely has a chance to lock the front door behind her, before she falls apart.
One would think letting it all out, would make Madeline feel at least a little bit relieved for once. Except it really doesn’t, and it is physically hurting her. When she finally lets go, her entire body starts shaking as she sobs, gasping for breath, because her lungs seem to refuse to allow any air inside of them. Her eyes are burning, her chest feels like it might as well explode right then and there, and it feels as though she will be forever stuck in the aching feeling she is experiencing right now. On top of that, she wants to throw up.
Not knowing what else to do, not knowing how to shake this state off of her, she somehow manages to stumble her way into the bathroom. She is quick to turn the shower on, and even more quick to jump in, still wearing her clothes and shoes, not giving a flying fuck about any of it. The cold water hits her like a truck and she inhales sharply, before leaning the front of her body against the wall.
The shower tiles are cold against her face, and so is the water running down her head, down her back, down her legs. An aching feeling has blossomed in her chest, and she is sobbing loudly, her eyes wet and her body shaking softly, but the tears don’t follow anymore. She is still crying, but she seems to have run out of tears by now. Only the sense of relief that is supposed to come with that, doesn’t follow.
Loneliness is a feeling she has long grown used to, a feeling that she hasn’t been truly bothered by for decades now. But in this moment, she’s never felt more alone. It’s as if everyone around her has got someone to hold onto, someone to be there when times get hard. To pick up the pieces when they fall apart.
But Madeline hasn’t even got someone that comes close to worthy of being called her friend.
And it’s not like she needs someone else’s support, needs someone to pick her up when she feels like she is nailed to the floor. She doesn’t need anyone other than herself, really. Because after very nearly 70 years of walking this earth, Madeline Usher knows damn well how to take care of herself, in every possible way.
But Gosh… it would be nice to be taken care of just for once…
Madeline sighs, shakes her head a litte because none of it matters anymore. This is the life she chose, a life of solitude and power, and she wouldn't regret it for a minute. Days like this are simply the price she has to pay for everything she has achieved in life.
After some more moments of Madeline trying to get her breathing to even out, she feels like taking a proper shower and doing a good body scrub. Her clothes are clinging uncomfortably to her skin and she wants to rid herself of her sticky and wet outfit. So she turns off the shower, takes a deep breath and wipes her cheeks with the back of her hands. When she turns around, stepping out, she very nearly has a heart attack. Because on the edge of the sink is sitting someone, watching her intently with all too familiar dark eyes. And it’s not just anyone.
It’s Verna.
Verna is here.
“You know, you’re supposed to take off your clothes before you do that. Kind of defeats the whole purpose of a shower if you don’t.”
What a know it all she is. Madeline loves that about her.
Her shoulders sag. “What are you doing here?” Madeline snaps, not interested in playing games, honestly not interested in acting like she is fine. Because she is not. And it’s Verna’s fault. Directly.
Well… It really isn’t all Verna’s fault but she is in no place to admit her own flaws right now. Truthfully, is she ever?
Verna tilts her head to the side, shrugs and states: “I’m checking in on you.” She says it as if it's the most obvious thing she could be doing, and Madeline wants to laugh at the rediculity of it.
“Why, how sweet and considerate of you. You’ll be on your way again now? I reckon I’ll see you in two months.” Madeline starts taking off her soaked shoes, quietly damning herself for ruining her best pair like this, just so she’s got something else than Verna’s concerned eyes to look at. How dare she look at her as if she actually cares for her wellbeing?
“Someone is feeling bitter.” There is a playfulness in her voice, and any other day, Madeline would have gone along with it. But today, it makes her blood boil.
“Yes, Verna. I really am.” Once stepped out of her shoes, she stands up straight and sighs. She’s had enough heart ache for today, she doesn’t need any more. “I have had a shit day and I don’t need your bullshit as the cherry on top. So please, if you’re planning on leaving me again for God knows how long, you might as well go away right now and not come back.”
Moving past Verna, Madeline opens the cupboard next to the sink and takes out her jar of body scrub. After placing it in the shower, she starts to peel off her layers of clothing, her revealed skin still looking red because of the cold water. With her back turned towards her, Madeline feels Verna’s eyes on her, senses her presence behind her, still sitting on the edge of the sink, watching her every move. Madeline doesn’t give a fuck. Verna has seen all of her anyway, and she’ll leave in a bit for sure. Because apparently, that is what Verna does when things get hard for a moment, when her ego gets hurt.
And it’s not like Madeline can blame her, honestly. She wouldn’t want to be around herself in those hard moments either. There is nothing more ugly than Madeline on the rare occasion when she feels hurt.
Vaguely, she makes out the sound of Verna slipping down the edge of the sink, landing on her feet. It’s followed by the light shuffle of her footsteps and then, surprisingly, by a question: “Mind if I join?”
Madeline shudders slightly, exhaling slowly, closing her eyes for a moment to ask herself what the fuck to do right now.
“I can soap your back for you,” Verna suggests, and Madeline can practically hear the smirk in her voice.
Madeline doesn’t want to be alone for the rest of today, actually doesn’t ever want to be alone again in the way she has been for these last few months. Correction: she doesn’t mind being alone, as long as she knows Verna is somewhere out there still on her side.
And so Madeline turns her head, looks at Verna’s pleading eyes over her shoulder and nods once with a hard swallow.
Madeline gets into the shower while Verna strips, testing the water temperature, making sure it’s not too cold. Verna hates a cold shower.
Once the water feels just right, she steps under the shower head, lets the water run down her body once again for a moment or two. Then suddenly, she feels a pair of soft hands on her shoulders, the touch warm and tender, feels gently massaging thumbs press into tight muscles. A kiss is pressed against the back of her neck, through her hair, and a soft whisper follows: “I’m sorry, Madeline. For leaving the way I did.”
Madeline’s jaw clenches. Not because of Verna’s gesture or apology, but because of the effect her presence has on her. Instantly, she feels calmer, safer. She really shouldn’t feel as affected as she does, shouldn’t want to turn around and wrap her arms around Verna, forget any of this ever happened, but she does.
“Why did you, though? Leave me that long, I mean.” She likes to pretend Verna won’t notice she tremble in her voice, the evident sense of insecurity she feels, but she knows she does. Verna notices everything, but at least she doesn't show it.
“I suppose I was a little hurt to find out you think I would enjoy witnessing the moment your faith finally finds you. I thought you knew I care for you.”
At that, Madeline turns around. “Do you really?” She’s never told her so, has always kept her guessing. Of course, there were moments where Madeline felt Verna’s affection, or saw it in her eyes, but she never said the words.
Instantly, Verna nods her head, and admits: “Yes, I do care about you, Madeline.”
It’s the first time Madeline hears these words and actually believes them. There is not a trace of insincerity in Verna’s eyes, nor doubt, nor uncertainty. All there is, is warmth and longing.
She tries not to, she really does, but she can’t help herself from letting out a loud sob at Verna’s words. Verna only smiles at her, slides her hands around Madeline’s waist and wraps her arms around her. And when she does that, it only feels natural for Madeline to step right into her embrace and wrap her arms around Verna’s neck, the fronts of their bodies pressed together snugly.
“You’re really here,” Madeline mutters quietly despite herself, burying her face against the side of Verna’s neck.
Verna hums in agreement, stroking her hands soothingly up and down Madeline’s back.
After letting out a soft sigh of much needed relief, Madeline starts pressing kisses to the delicate skin below her lips. Gently at first, savoring the feeling of being close to Verna for the first time in months, but quickly enough, her pent up yearning and desire for the person in front of her starts to surface. She starts nipping at Verna’s skin with her teeth, earning a soft hiss, before soothing the red patches with her tongue and more kisses. Her hands move down Verna’s sides, tickle her ribcage as they go down, until they meet the curve of her hips, then the roundness of her ass.
Verna whimpers, tries to lift Madeline’s head up, tries to kiss her lips.
“Not yet,” Madeline whispers as Verna’s hands slide into her hair to direct her face towards her own.
Verna lifts an eyebrow, leaning in closer to her.
Madeline shakes her head. “You can’t kiss me yet.” Then decides to rephrase that. “Not my lips, anyway.”
At those words, Verna chuckles mischievously, pressing a soft kiss to Madeline’s cheek instead. That is, before she grips her hips and uses that leverage to trap Madeline between herself and the shower wall.
Skilled hands start wandering around Madeline’s naked, wet body, as her mouth starts making its way down the column of her neck, nipping, kissing, licking, all the way down to her collar bones. Her breasts are next to be lavished with attention, and Madeline feels as though her head is floating in the ecstasy that comes with being close to this entity, this being, this person, her lover. She isn’t really hers, they don’t belong to one another, and yet the way they cling to and claw at the other, makes Madeline believe they could not ever be bound to anyone else.
She’s still mad at Verna for leaving, mad at herself for how hurt and alone she had felt in her absence. She’s thrilled that she is back, yet scared she will leave again soon and leave an even greater pain while doing so.
How did it come to this? When did she start to care this much?
Madeline’s nipple is covered by Verna’s mouth, teased by her tongue, whilst the other is pinched gently by her fingers, her free hand running up and down the back of her thigh. They’re both moaning softly, their eyes locked together as Madeline runs her fingers through strands of Verna’s soaked, dark hair. Her eyes are as bright as ever, clear and shiny, full of mysteries and secrets, full of promise and glee.
Sighing, Madeline shakes her head a little, feeling tears clouding in her eyes as she watches Verna, and whispers: “Please, just fuck me.”
Verna freezes almost instantly, releasing Madeline’s nipples, then tilts her head to the side and asks: “May I kiss your lips yet?”
“No,” Madeline breathes, shaking her head softly as she tenderly brushes her fingers across Verna’s soft, reddened cheek.
The other woman chuckles lightly at that, before straightening herself and letting her hand slide up the inside of Madeline’s thigh, making her inhale sharply. Her fingertips move slowly towards her center, move across her folds a couple of times as she kisses her neck. Madeline grips Verna’s shoulder in one hand, and places the other on the wall behind her, seeking some kind of support as her breath hitches every time Verna’s touch gets close to where she wants her, to where she needs her.
Madeline pulls her as close as they can be, wants to feel their skin pressed together as much as possible. Verna’s longing eyes keep dropping to her lips, and it thrills Madeline to know this is at least a little difficult for her. It’s just right. Maybe this way, she’ll experience at least a hint of what Madeline has been enduring in the entirety of time they spent apart.
A gentle fingertip parts her folds then, slides into her slowly, just to the first knuckle, before retreating completely. She repeats this a few times, before adding a second finger to continue this torture of teasing. Madeline is able to withstand all this for far longer than she’d though -which still isn’t long at all, mind you- before she has had enough. Reaching down, she cups Verna’s hand, lightly pushes at it in an attempt to make her fuck her properly.
“Please, Verna…” she whispers, and unfortunately, she does sound as desperate as she feels. But it matters not, because it is all it takes for Verna to smile wickedly, before fully sliding her fingers home.
That moment when Verna slides into her all the way, is all she has been needing. Just feeling her close, and hearing her soft breathing, is the best medicine for all the wounds her recent hurting left.
But however good it feels, there is one last thing Madeline has to get off her mind, so she quickly mutters: “No matter what happens, don’t leave me like that again.” She couldn’t bear to go through it another time.
Verna’s answer is quick, a shake of her head, a kiss to Madeline’s jaw and a promise: “I won’t. I promise.”
Madeline sobs again, only then realising how much she had needed that reassurance, hating herself for needing it. Verna’s fingers curl inside of her, making Madeline shudder, before she says: “Gosh, I thought this was supposed to be no strings attached sex."
“No matter what this is,” Verna starts, stilling her fingers just for a moment, looking into Madeline’s eyes, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings and keep you wondering.”
She looks at her with such sincerity in her eyes, Madeline wants to scream and weep. More than that, she wants to believe her, wants to trust her in keeping her promise. But her heart doesn’t dare to let her do any of it, not after all the hurt, and Madeline fears Verna may never feel as safe to her again as she once did. That prospect is what scares her the most.
Just the thought of that makes tears cloud in Madeline's eyes again, before she says: “Fuck, Verna please, kiss me.” She sobs again, shaking her head slightly as her chin and bottom lip tremble. “Kiss me right now, please.”
And Verna does so without hesitation. It’s somehow even better than Madeline remembered it, the feeling of their lips pressed together, their tongues brushing, their shared breaths and pants as they grope at one another. She wants to believe her, so badly, but more than that, she wants to feel Verna, feel that she is here with her and she isn’t just imagining things. It wouldn’t be the first time she did.
Impatiently, Madeline clenches herself around Verna’s fingers, a silent request for her to start moving again, and Verna doesn't make her wait. She starts thrusting again, hard strokes in and slow strokes out, while their mouths stay connected. Madeline's hands are buried in Verna's hair, one of her legs coming up to wrap around Verna's hip, pulling her closer.
Verna pants into Madeline's mouth, her thumb finding her clit as she whispers: "I missed you, love." Her fingers seem to fuck even deeper into her as she says those words out loud, and all Madeline can do is gasp in a choked breath.
It doesn't take long before Madeline can feel the approach of her orgasm, and she doesn't realise she is crying again until Verna starts kissing away her tears. She sobs, saying: "God, I need you Vera. I need you."
Verna kisses her, hard and long, before answering against her lips: "You have me, Madeline. I'm here."
And that's all Madeline needs before something inside of her snaps like a twig, her orgasm washing over her as she comes hard on Verna's fingers, a loud cry escaping her as she does. Verna is there to guide her through all of it, pressing kisses to her face, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth, as she slows down her movements, only extracting her fingers when Madeline has calmed down a little. Madeline still mourns the feeling of Verna being inside of her though, and the soft groan she lets out is proof enough of that.
After taking a deep breath, Madeline tilts her head to the side, swallows heavily and admits: “I’ll try not to ask unnecessary questions like that again. I don’t enjoy hurting you, it turns out.”
It’s as much of an apology as Madeline Usher could ever muster, and Verna seems to understand that. Because she smiles gratefully at her words, before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.
“Thank you, dear.” Verna smiles, and Madeline can’t help but steal another, deeper kiss from her, having misses Verna’s wicked lips so terribly
After a moment though, Verna breaks the kiss and reaches for the shower gel next to them. “Now let me soap you up.”
It takes another fourty five minutes before Verna finally gets a chance to do so. But if her choked moans and the warm welcome between her thighs are anything to go by, Madeline thinks she doesn’t mind that much
The end xoxo