When In Doubt, Go With Blue

Fitting In As Is

A yawn split your face after classes were done for the day. You were in comfy-wear and you moved slow. The warmth from the mug in your hand only put you further to sleep. 

But an abrupt knock brought you back. 

You turned to the door needlessly and uselessly. You knew it was Farah before she even knocked, even if you didn't know. You stood gradually and thanked Farah in your head for not knocking again. You weren't sure whether or not she heard so you didn't dare mentally lament she could've let herself in. 

It took you a moment, but you got the door open. Farah eyed you anxiously, barely refraining from pushing in, you could predict why. She started babbling all the same. "Are you alright? I know that must've been taxing. The bleeding stopped - good. But you look pale. Have you not been sleeping well?"

You laughed, stepping back to let her in. "I never sleep well, Far- Headmistress Dowling." 

The woman frowned at the formality. 

"And I'm fine. Or, at least, I will be. Now, my turn. I know you're in a... delicate position, and you can't be... personal with a student. But I'm a student. And you're Headmistress." You faced away. God, this seemed to be the story of your life and that wasn't ok. "And I can be a good student. I can feed your professional reputation. I just need to know what you want from me. I'll do it."

Farah stared for some time. You were getting uncomfortable just standing there. Then she took a step toward you. Then another. Then  a third, and she had your face in your hands. "I don't know why. I don't know how I could, but for the life of me, all I want is you. But I have to keep my job. 

You laughed, heart-eyed tears streaming down your face. "I know."

She smiled and nodded. She ran her thumbs over your tears and held some hair. "We can do this, and it isn't illegal. You're of age. We just can't let our relationship affect anything."

While you knew you both had to be careful, it felt like she was referring more to you. Maybe it was because you were younger, less experienced, and had never done this before. You hoped she'd never done this before. "I understand, Farah." 

The woman abruptly grabbed your face and pulled you in for a tonguing. She explored your mouth slowly and courteously, each time with a tenderness and care that balmed your fractured heart. You wrapped your arms around her likewise, one arm draping around her waist while the other cradled her face. She nibbled on your bottom lips until your knees went weak. You worried you would fall. "How do you do that?" you breathed out against her lips, after gathering the strength to pull back even slightly. 

Farah mustered the strength to maintain that distance. "Magic," she laughed softly in response. Then, she pressed her lips to yours again. She pulled you tight against her and ... "distracted" you. She haltingly moved the two of you, stumbling and scuffing your shoes against the floor, to your couch. Farah landed on the remote and the tv both came on and turned to a sports channel. 

You both jerked apart at the roaring cheering. Two teams kicked a black and white ball across the field. 

"Blasted football," Farah mumbled. 

You reached your arm over to pull her chin to face you. "It's soccer," you corrected her amusedly. 

Farah leveled you with a stare. You barely withheld a laugh, but the woman sat straighter. She grabbed both of your wrists and pulled them up behind her neck. You held your own hand and smiled, looking up into her wonderful face. She seemed as entertained with your features as you were with hers. 

You couldn't help but smile, hands breaking apart to card through the story baby hairs sticking out from her bun. "How long can you stay?" you asked, leaning up to press your lips against hers softly. The interaction may as well have been two feathers brushing.