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5.12 The Masks We Wear
🕑 Added 2026-01-13 17:18:22 +0000 UTCI won! I did it! I got the thing I wanted! Fuck you, Hastur! Everyone who’s ever called me a lonely freak can piss off! Sophia likes me back!! She said she loves me!! Story over!!! Put the book down and go kiss a girl!!!!
…
Okay, maybe it’s more complicated than that. It’s possible that, instead of pure elation, what I feel is a mix of joy, pain, love, fear, and confusion. Honestly, I don’t really know how I feel, in the moment that Sophia hugs me and tells me she loves me.
I hug her back, of course. How could I not? I hold her close and savor her warmth, and her softness, and the knowledge that the girl I’ve been chasing for basically all of my adult life does, in fact, like me back.
I want to jump for joy. I want to cheer. I want to kiss her. I want to stay in her arms forever, held and loved. But my chest still hurts, that dull hum of pain, and there are questions surfacing in my brain about the nature of Sophia’s love for me.
Why didn’t she tell me? I know why I was a coward for so long, but Sophia? What could have held her back? Why let me languish for all that time, agonizing over my feelings for her?
In the cold light of revelation, knowing at last that my love is reciprocated, there’s still one critical question that I’ve always shied away from: with all her perceptive ability, with all her magic, shouldn’t she have known how I felt the whole time?
Sophia breaks off the hug. Did she notice the subtle shifts in how I held myself? Her piercing, gorgeous gaze takes in the expression on my face—happy, but confused—and a pang of sadness crosses her own. “I know what you’re thinking,” she says, soft and lovely. “I have answers, I promise. But, before that, would you do one thing for me?”
“Anything,” I answer automatically. The words leave my lips before I’ve registered the question. It’s still the truth.
She smiles. “I know.” And then she kisses me.
The thing about kissing is that it’s an awkward, gross, messy mashing of face parts that’s also one of the best feelings in the world. Like, a mouth isn’t uniquely softer than the underside of your arms, it’s not got a better texture than a good pair of tits, but it’s got something. Skin against skin, tongue against tongue, softness and wetness and yielding motion—it’s connection. It gives the right chemicals, just like a good hug, only that comfort and belonging is being paired with a shot of arousal because your brain knows that kissing like this is supposed to feel like the prologue to sex, and sex gets the lizard in the base of my skull all riled up and raring.
A kiss that says, “You’re not alone.”
A kiss that says, “I want you.”
Sophie kisses me and I can’t imagine needing more than this. How could oxygen compare? The butterflies in my stomach will keep me fed. I’ll drink Sophie in, again and again and again, and I won’t want for water.
Parting leaves me a ruin. Her soft lips leave mine and suddenly nothing could be softer. The taste of her was just the taste of skin, but that sense memory is easily overwritten; obviously she tasted like nectar and ambrosia, divinity enfleshed. I crave more.
By the hunger in her eyes, my sweet Sophia feels the same way. She licks her lips, eyeing me like a bird of prey sizes up its kill. I don’t know what our hands were doing while we kissed, but one of hers traces lines on the back of my hand.
She says, “That was our 457th first kiss. Our last first kiss, now.”
I blink slowly. Her voice is a little lower than usual, a touch raw and husky from our kiss, but I’d still be able to hear it if there was humor in her voice. I’d see it around her eyes and in the curl of her lip. But she’s being serious. “What?”
She smiles at me. Hungry, loving, and sad. “You’ve died in my arms 164 times. In front of me, another 138. 89 times, I saw it on video. 53 times, I found your body after it had gone cold. The remaining 12, I never found you. Those were the worst, I think. Those were the loops I stayed in longest, searching for you until Hastur pulled me out.”
Loops. I try to process what she’s saying and I can’t. Her meaning is obvious, but it’s also beyond me. It’s impossible. But then, nothing is, thanks to magic. “You… you’re talking about a time loop.”
“Yes.” She grasps my hand with both of hers. Warm, soft, firm. “Rachel, I’ve loved you the whole time. I have always loved you. But I couldn’t tell you. I had to hide my feelings to protect you—I know, it’s such a cliche, but this wasn’t empty hero talk; the King in Yellow showed me a vision of what would happen if I ever let the Jovians know that I adored you. We simulated that world, over and over again. I’ve gone on so many wonderful dates with you, Rachel, and you’ve made me so happy… but every time, they used you against me. Murdered you, to hurt me. I tried to save you. So many times, I tried to save you, but I couldn’t; the only world where Rachel Emily lived was the world where Sophia Lane kept quiet. I know you’ve been suffering, my love, and I’m so sorry for my part in it. Please, believe me: I didn’t see another way to keep you safe.”
I laugh. It’s a bitter, disbelieving laugh, and I can only imagine how my face looks right now. I run a hand over it, as if I could somehow feel the texture of my shock. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t know if I’m even capable of comprehending that, Sophie. Over 400 times? That many dead Rachels? First kisses, first dates, first—have we slept together? Did you fuck my time clone?” I’m not jealous. Definitely not jealous. It would be weird to be jealous of… whatever’s going on with that. Only a little jealous.
Sophia’s cheeks bloom pink. Embarrassment is rare on her, so that’s a special treat. She bites her lip and nods. “In the interest of full disclosure, yes. A lot. Is that—is that weird? I’ve never told you about the loop before.”
Despite myself, I smile. “You dork. Yes, it’s weird, but I don’t mind. I’m yours, beloved. It might take me a while to, uh, internalize all that, but… honestly, right now I think I’m just relieved.” My soft smile morphs into a roguish grin. “When you say ‘a lot,’ how much do you mean, anyway? Don’t pretend you didn’t count.”
Her blush deepens. “We’ve been physically intimate 21,431 times.” She coughs politely.
My brain short circuits and my mouth drops open. “I—you—we—what?”
Sophia giggles. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” A manic light enters her eyes and she leans in conspiratorially to tell me, “On our dates, I like to wear revealing clothing to capture as much of your attention as possible. I’ve sent you nudes from my office in the Citadel. I should tell you now, because this part always surprises you: I am insatiable. I fantasize about the things I want to do to you on a nearly daily basis. I leave my bedroom door unlocked so you’ll sneak in and watch me sleep.”
I feel lightheaded. Somehow, in this moment, with that tinge of madness in her gaze, Sophia Lane is more beautiful than ever. She’s perfect. “I must be dreaming,” I murmur. “There’s no way this is real.”
She kisses me again and nothing else matters. If this is a dream, it’s the best dream I’ve ever had—but her lips on mine feel too real to question. I melt into my beloved’s embrace.
When it breaks, I smile at her. “I love you. I—”
My chest seizes again, a sudden stab of pain, and I nearly double over. I clutch at my sides, breathing turned ragged in an instant, and Sophia grabs my shoulders, alarm writ across her face. “Rachel? Rachel, is it—”
“My heart.”
Sophia’s expression darkens. “That pretender is going to pay for putting her hands on my girlfriend.”
My pained grumbling is immediately replaced by a giddy squeal. Girlfriend girlfriend girlfriend she called me her girlfriend we’re girlfriends I’m girlfriend she’s girlfriend eeeee!!! Attempting to regain some composure, I clear my throat and straighten up. “So, about that. Um. I know I caused some problems for you, and I’m really sorry about that. Should we figure out, uh, how to solve those problems?”
Sophia waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry; I planned our response while I was kissing you.” Of course you did, you wonderful woman. “Pandora is a confounding factor, but most of the threat it posed was hurting you; now that I know you can survive a death or two, I can act much more recklessly. Honestly, I’m interested to see how the cat will keep up its end of your deal.”
“And Venus?”
Again, a flash of dark, brooding anger, but as quickly as it comes it’s swept away by playful hunger. “She made a mistake, laying claim to your heart. The goddess of love took your heart through violence, defying her core concept. That gives us a very obvious way to contest her claim: by making love. That heart is mine, and I’ll prove it. Come with me, Rachel. We’re going to make up for lost time.”
Oh. Oh, this is happening. It’s happening right now. “Yes ma’am,” I manage, struck breathless by sudden, dizzy longing, and then Sophia’s soft hand is tangled in mine and dragging me along behind her as she leads me out of the garden and into the back halls of the Ossuary. I hope the Morrigan’s practicing discretion and not watching us.
As we walk, the thought of what’s about to happen is too powerful to consider, and so my mind wanders back to one revelation: Hastur has been keeping us apart. The King in Yellow put Sophie through hell while knowing the solution and withholding it. The Sunshine Sovereign let the two of us orbit each other, each longing desperately, when the conflict separating us was a mere illusion.
“Hastur was manipulating us,” I say quietly. We’re out of the hedge maze, slipping through dark hallways. “The first time I went to the World of Glass, I was ready to confess. I promised myself I would… but the King in Yellow interfered. She spooked me out of it, and that let the anxiety build up again and close me off from confession. She never told you my transformation, never told me your feelings. She wanted us kept yearning.”
“I’m aware,” Sophie says tightly. “It’s frustrating, but there’s nothing I can do about it. A thing like her never faces consequences. Fool on me for accepting her help.”
I squeeze her hand. “No. Fool on Hastur for betraying you. I won’t forgive her that. And one day, we’ll find some means to make her pay.”
There’s one other detail I need to share with my beloved, now that all our secrets are coming out. An enemy of the King in Yellow. But I suspect that’s going to be a long conversation, so it can wait until after we’ve, ah, dealt with the Venus situation.
Sophia leads me into a bedroom. The living bone aesthetic of the Ossuary is present, but subdued, and the walls don’t breathe. The sheets are a rich red and the lights are dim.
I hesitate in the doorway. I say, “We’re actually doing this, right here, right now. I—I guess you’re used to it, but, it’s been a long time for me. I want this—I really, really want this, don’t get me wrong—but I’m nervous. I’m probably going to be terrible.”
Sophia smiles at me warmly, then presses her forehead against mine. “I love you,” she says. “I love you, Rachel. I’ll always love you. So don’t worry, and just let me take the lead.”
“Always,” I murmur back. “I love you, too.”
She starts to take her clothes off, and I follow, and everything that happens next is a warm, pleasant blur.
Comments
Kaoticice
Aaaaaa! I cannot get this smile off my face. This chapter made my afternoon!!!
mgbm
YESYESYESYESYES
