At the Bottom of the Bay

Chapter Eight

Sofia couldn't speak to what went on in her head that night.

In the light of day, it seemed absurd. Going to sleep with Kelsey McQuarrie's hand gently cradling her cheek was like dozing off with her head in a lion's open jaw. Not advisable. Not an intelligent, rational, or well thought out decision.

But Sofia couldn't recall the last time she made a decision that could be classified as any one of those things, so to hell with it. And was sleeping next to Kelsey, in the same bed, really any worse than keeping Kelsey a few feet away on the floor?

She got her answer to that in the morning. She came to consciousness slowly, aware of the sensation of arms and legs wound around hers, through hers, a weight on her chest giving off a pleasant pain where if pressed the bruise at her collarbone. Kelsey's hair was in Sofia's nose and mouth as she snored softly, the sound more like a kitten's purr.

Finally leaving Kelsey's room and getting a place at Lantern Light was supposed to be her clean break, and yet she spent the first night wrapped in the other girl's arms. It could have gone worse, Sofia told herself.

The room was utterly quiet, no distant sound of waves with the window bolted shut, no echoing of a clock wringing through the halls. There was no sound, nothing but Kelsey's breathing, and Sofia's own heart beating in her ears, slow and steady.

Unless there was sound. Unless Kelsey's presence blocked it all out. Sofia didn't like to examine the effect close proximity to Kelsey McQuarrie had on her, preferred not to think about the effects of her distance, either. She was losing her mind, that much was obvious, seeing the sky falling and hearing the ocean in her head, and freezing her ass off all the time. And when Kelsey was around, she felt better, more like a person again. Simple as that, no need to ponder it further.

Except now... what if Kelsey blocked out the other stuff, too? The real stuff? This room couldn't be this soundproof; Lantern Light wasn't made of stone.

But she didn't move out of Kelsey's arms, didn't wake her up and send her away. She found herself wondering why she ever bothered with her tapes of music and untangling headphone wires and constantly buying batteries to work her Walkman, when the most beautiful music was right here. The drumbeat of Kelsey's heart, the whisper soft singing that was her purring snore. Was there ever a sound so sweet?

Her fingers flexed at the thought, a subconscious response she didn't ask for and that sent pain shooting through her hand. Kelsey lifted her head as Sofia hissed, looking at her blearily. "Sofia?"

She had a one-track mind, that was for sure. "I'm fine." Sofia's right arm (the offending one), was sprawled across herself so that her hand rested on Kelsey's shoulder. Moving it out of this position sent more pain coursing down the limb, so she gave up, breathing heavily and glaring at the ceiling.

If Kelsey was embarrassed to wake up with her head on Sofia's chest, nuzzled in her arms, she didn't show it. She adjusted herself so she lay less at an angle, and her chest pressed firmly into Sofia's admittedly much flatter one. "Where does it hurt?"

"Every-fucking-where," Sofia bit out. "And you're not helping."

The last part was a lie; Kelsey always helped, and that was why Sofia needed her to back the fuck up. There was a difference between wanting a thing and needing it.

Kelsey jumped up so suddenly, the bed rocked and creaked, jostling Sofia just enough to let out another groan of pain.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I–" Kelsey bit her lip, hands hovering between them. "Oh, Sof, you look even worse in the daylight!"