Ava: Do you think when butterflies are in love that they feel humans in their stomach?
Beatrice: Ava. Darling. Honey. Love of my life. What the FUCK ?"
in another instance of me losing my mind about these scenes again at midnight, this Look!!!! how does she do this!!!!!!!!!
Ava’s fingers brush the edge of the envelope in her hand, Beatrice’s name written in her neatest handwriting in the middle. As soon as Ava had seen the card, she knew it was perfect, perfect for Beatrice, perfect for them.
It’s only Valentine’s Day, a small blip in the grand scheme of things. It’s a minor holiday, a commercial celebration of love that Ava wouldn’t usually bother with, something she’d never thought she’d even have the chance to celebrate.
But this year she has a girlfriend, she has Beatrice, she’s come back from the dead, again, and she wants to celebrate the woman she loves.
So caught up in her own thoughts, Ava misses the slight creak of the floorboard behind her, jumps when hands land on her hips
“Jesus,” Ava says, hastily pushing the card away, now half hidden under a loaf of bread as Beatrice’s arms curl around her stomach.
“Sorry,” Beatrice laughs, the sound warm as she drops a kiss to Ava’s shoulder in apology. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Ava can’t really be too upset with Beatrice for sneaking up on her, not now that Beatrice is hugging her from behind, all warm and soft in the best possible way.
“What are you doing up so early?” Beatrice asks.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Ava counters, though she’s the anomaly here, it’s not often she’s out of bed before Beatrice, and never this early. But she’d wanted to make this morning special, wanted to bring Beatrice coffee in bed, wanted to give her the card she’d picked and show Beatrice once again how much she means to her.
“I woke up expecting cuddles but you were gone.”
Ava immediately spins in Beatrice’s embrace, dislodging Beatrice’s arms in the process. Ava loses her train of thought for a moment, too busy taking in Beatrice’s slightly dishevelled state, her hair a mess from sleep, her shorts not quite straight as they sit on her hips.
She’s struck once again how lucky she is to have this, to get to see Beatrice like this. Through everything, against all odds and despite all the shit that’s been thrown at them, she gets to see a sleepy Beatrice, standing barefoot in their kitchen, looking so utterly beautiful that Ava’s heart skips several beats.
“Are you okay?” Beatrice asks, eyes darting over Ava’s face. She reaches out, fingers brushing some of Ava’s own messy hair behind her ear.
God, Ava really loves her.
read the rest on ao3 or under the cut
no-barbarians-here