Epsilon Twilight
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63. The Brighter the Shine
🕑 Added 2025-10-04 11:50:08 +0000 UTCChristie’s lap ached. It looked so cute in stories and whatnot, but after a couple of hours, a lap pillow really didn’t look as cute as before. It also didn’t help that her beloved had a heavy head. Crown in the heavens, that is the heaviest head that I have ever seen, not that she had weighed any head.
That didn’t stop the redhead from caressing those short and electrum locks on her lap. It was a maddening feeling. Not just the feedback of the touches – which was profound as the depths – but also the restraining. It was difficult not to shower Agatha with kisses when she was just resting so peacefully on her thighs. Even whilst asleep, her paramour shone with supreme and peerless radiance. Not quite the shine of the sun, but easily that of the moon. A gentler yet no less beautiful type of glow.
“Is she asleep?” Adrien asked from the front of the carriage, which made Christie yelp and almost jump upright from the abrupt nature of the question.
“Y-yes,” she mouthed before she regained her composure. “She has been asleep for a while now.”
“It’s a surprising sight, I can’t deny it,” the coachman chuckled. “Hasel has been so protective of you that I almost never thought I would live to see you having a friend, and especially not as close as you are.”
Oh, if you only knew, Adrien… Christie couldn’t help but smile smugly, even if she was scared deep inside. She knew very well that they would never ostracize her for dating a girl, but it still felt awkward. In a way, Christie couldn’t say that she considered themselves a couple. It was too sudden. Everything she had read told her that, first, there would be courtship, whether it be weeks or months, before a relationship could start.
Yet it only took one peck of this seductress for me to fall on my knees, Christie thought with a mixture of sadness and joy. Loving Agatha made her incommensurably happy; she was full in a way that wasn’t related to a painful sea of stone, and yet it felt wrong at the same time. Whilst it hadn’t been explicit, everyone had spoken about how she would end up married in a distant future and she would have descendance.
That scared her badly.
So much so that she hadn’t ever shared the thought with anyone that wasn’t Agatha. She didn’t want to kill another person. Perhaps a stupid notion for a would-be soldier, but there were manners and manners of killing, and that wasn’t one she wanted to repeat. Speaking about sharing, she hadn’t even shared that thought with herself. Christie had done her best not to think about it until the moment didn’t come.
And now she didn’t need to worry about it.
Some considered same-sex relationships disgusting due to the lack of means of reproduction in the sense of offspring. Mostly Crochetans, for Sectons considered it downright evil for other reasons. Yet that lack of reproduction was enticingly attractive to Christie at the moment. She couldn’t think of descendance when she only had love on her mind.
If something happens, we can always run away to Sanaar or Intak Solfan. Shayla would certainly like it if we went to the latter. Whilst Christie didn’t have the courage to reveal their relationship to anyone just now, she knew with absolute certainty that if there was anyone in the world who wouldn’t judge them, it would be Shayla Belkadi. They are more liberal about carnal pleasure and relationships there… Christie blushed softly as her mind went to some of Miss Diorite’s romance novels that had their origins in Intak Solfan. There certainly wasn’t a stigma there in romance.
That should comfort Christie, and yet… a pressure assaulted her heart.
Things were never as simple as they appeared.
Perhaps it was the short nature of their relationship, barely a week now, but she couldn’t help but be scared. Not just about descendance, but the relationship itself. What if this is never meant to be? What if it does not work out? What if I do not fulfill my role correctly? Christie had never been in a relationship before, and her inexperience scared her.
The girl, of course, was oblivious to the fact that this was also her seductress' first relationship too. Or more like she actively chose to ignore that fact.
It was easier to blame oneself, after all.
Who had seduced whom on that day was impossible to tell. Had Agatha truly captivated her with a single kiss like the cruel and radiant seductress she was, or had that passion always been lingering deep inside the redhead?
One week, only one week, that same thought kept assaulting Christie’s mind. This last week had been the happiest week in Christie’s life, yet that pressure still weighed down on her. Not like her sea of stones, which oppressed her body, but a more primeval pressure that assaulted her soul.
Christie wanted to love Agatha so deeply – so deeply that it hurt – and be burned by her, but not, by any means, did she want to burn her. It was a maddening pressure. She wanted to unfurl her whole being like a mantle soaring through the skies and then be wrapped around her lover instead of herself. Yet she feared that she might wrap herself too tightly.
***
Christie was woken up by the stop of the carriage’s rocking. Whilst not exactly tender, it still had lulled her into a sleep. As she yawned and rubbed her eyes, she looked downward only to see a very amused Agatha on her lap looking up to her.
“Ah,” Christie yelped mutedly and blushed.
It was so hard to stop blushing for every little thing and now Agatha has me blushing every time she smiles, the redhead pouted and shoved the blonde’s head to the side with a half-hearted angry grunt.
“Ow,” Agatha let a half-hearted grunt of her own as she sat upright and then promptly stood up with a cutesy hop and yelp.
Mmm, Christie grunted again, only that now in the sanctity of her mind, and covertly bit her lip as she fought against herself to not pounce on her darling. Why must you tempt me when we have public?
“So,” the nouveau riche said with complete calmness and composure, “do you happen to know why we have stopped?”
“Yes,” the villager nodded. “It is lunch time!”
“Oh, I see. Now that you mention it, I am feeling a bit puckish.”
The girls got out of the carriage – Agatha rushing in front of her, not before making a quip about ‘ladies first’ which made Christie roll her eyes, still too drowsy to protest the idiocy of that statement – and they were met with the sight of Adrien surrounded by a stoneshell and two horses, like a princess from a fairytale. Or alternatively, a beast master.
“That is quite the sight,” Christie said softly.
“It is,” Agatha followed.
Both the monster and the equines weren’t actually flocking to the old man, but rather, they were just grazing the pasture around him.
“Ah, I see you two are awake. I was starting to make lunch,” the coachman said as he put a cauldron in a circle of stone part of the caravanserai they were staying at.
“What do we have today for lunch?” The redhead pranced forward with interest, if just to stretch her legs a bit. The mock sapphire has a… voluminous head, even in the privacy of her mind, Christie chose to censor herself. It was a slippery slope once you started using ugly words, after all.
“Nothing fancy, I’m afraid, milady. Just potato stew with some jerky.”
“It beats the gruel they served us daily in the academy,” she chuckled.
“They served you gruel in the Skyscraper Academy?” Adrien raised a brow.
“It was apparently to foster a military culture and discipline,” Agatha shrugged as she stood next to the man. “I guess we will not have fresh ingridients here?”
“I’m afraid not,” the coachman himself shrugged. “The fastest route to the estate basically avoids most cities, and while we will pass through a town or two in our way there, fresh ingredients will also only last us for another day or two. So non-perishable items it is most the way through.”
“What about cool-boxes?” She asked.
“Can you maintain several Chill commands for two weeks without getting a headache?”
Her ladylove stood pensively for a moment. Christie knew, as a matter of fact, that Agatha could do that as she was now performing two simultaneous commands with Duplicate and Compact, and she had been doing so for a while now. But for whatever the case was, she decided to not answer that.
“Fair enough,” the blonde shrugged. “I forgot we are only a single carriage and not a caravan. I can deal with that, however.”
“What do you mean you can ‘deal’ with that?” The greying man asked.
“I will cook, of course.”
Adrien squinted, raised his chin to look at Agatha over her shoulder, and then finally shrugged. “Sure, why not. The fewer duties I have, the better. But do you cook well?”
“Adrien,” Christie interjected, “Agatha is a surprisingly good cook.”
“What do you mean by ‘surprisingly’?” Her sweetheart looked at her with clear faux disgust.
“I… er…” Christie was well aware that Agatha was toying with her, and yet that didn’t stop her from reflexively panicking, like when someone asks a question and you ask ‘What?’ even though you had perfectly heard them. “I mean, it is surprising that you have the skills of a cook when you are a seamstress.”
“In-training, but yes,” Agatha corrected and smiled at her with the unadulterated radiance of the sun. “You saved yourself there from going back into the carriage hungry.”
Adrien gave her a look that said that he wouldn’t have allowed that, yet at the same time had enough presence of mind to intuit that the girls were just bickering.
“So, good cook?” He finally added.
“Passing enough,” Agatha said casually as she reviewed the utensils she was working with.
“Good enough for me, gonna take a nap in the carriage then. The more rest I get, the faster we’ll get to the state.”
“Why d’you reckon I’m offering to cook in the first place?” Whilst it was strange to see her beloved informally talk, Christie couldn’t deny it found it charming. Especially as she had attained confidence with Adrien this fast.
“Can’t blame ya’,” the man shrugged and made his way inside the carriage.
“So…” Christie started, “you are going to make stew.”
“Yes.” The moment she said so, Agatha dropped the sapphire from her pocket into the cauldron. “I am so used to using Heat at maximum power that it is trivially easy to cook while being able to use Control at the same time.”
“You are still unable to control the potency of your commands?” The redhead arched a brow.
“Still unable,” her inamorata confessed as she peeled potatoes. “Pathetic, is it not?”
“Well, considering I am unable to keep my agates inside of my body, I do not think I am qualified to judge you.” Christie closed on Agatha, her body screaming to embrace the petite woman and drown her in kisses, but her self-control prevailed. Even if Adrien was sleeping already – which she doubted – he was still close by. She couldn’t risk it. “Do you need help?”
“Uhm… there is no need,” the blonde replied sheepishly, as if she were hiding something. Words, nominally.
“Ooh, that tone is suspicious,” the nouveau riche orbited around the villager. Passing close to her but without touching her. That put her on edge, much to Christie’s pleasure.
“Er…” Whatever words her ladylove was pondering as she stuttered seemed not to be sufficient for her as she ended up slumping in submission. “How do I say this without sounding like an… like the bad one?”
“You think I am going to make a mess,” Christie crossed her arms underneath her chest, puffing it ever-so-slightly. Both a power-play and a bit of teasing.
She loved teasing Agatha so much.
Addicted to it, really.
But she had to cover her tracks; she couldn't be too aggressive, for either others might notice or she might not get the cute reactions out of her. It was a fine balance, for if she got too aggressive, her seductress might get funny ideas and pounce on her. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.
“I…” Agatha sighed. “Yes, I think so.”
“I value the honesty,” Christie positioned herself in front of Agatha, with her back facing the carriage, and blew her a kiss.
The petite girl let out a squeaky squeal and promptly blushed out of shame from her own reaction. “Christie!” She whispered in exclamation marks.
“You have mentioned before that you considered me a bunny when you first met me at the statal examination,” the redhead said calmly, disregarding her paramour’s protests, “but what would that make you? You squeaked cutely, so maybe a rat?”
“Rats are not cute,” Agatha pouted and answered in a whisper.
“So you do not deny you are a rodent, huh?”
“I never said that!” She raised her voice, and her hand, which still wielded a knife.
Perhaps I have teased her too much for now… A part of her felt remorseful for having her sweetheart so exasperated, yet another… another was excited. Christie couldn’t help but ponder how far she could take this. Ah, if we were only still in the academy… But perhaps that is for the better. It is still too soon, I should take things more… slowly. I am the one who should become fuel for the radiance, not her. I dread to ponder what will happen with her radiance if I push her too far.
It was hard treading this field. It was a completely uncharted one that she had not received any guidance whatsoever for. Not her dearest father, not the academy, and even the novels failed at this. They are surprisingly… vague about some aspects. Most of the time, it was Christie who filled the gaps. Perhaps that was the issue.
“I leave you to it then,” Christie said softly. “Sorry.”
Her apology was a weak one, present so it showed that she didn’t mean to hurt her, but lacking strength, so her mistress didn’t think it was her fault. If Christie knew something, it was about apologies. She had gotten so good at them. She knew how awful it could be to not receive them, but also to receive them if they felt unsolicited.
She almost felt like her dearest father’s presence was an apology most of the time.
I should not think like that, she told herself as she trod on the grass and sat next to the mock turtle. I am happy, and I should only have a mind for Agatha. If I do not… will she feel it? I need to be perfect. I need to be a role model. But… what is the role model? Ceaseless novels had she read, and yet Christie didn’t have enough confidence to answer that question. It didn’t help that most of the time romance novels had the complete opposite of the role model in either the protagonist or the recipient of their love. Drama is interesting, Miss Diorite had once said, but Christie didn’t believe that justified a partner being a sorry excuse of a human being.
“Hi, mock turtle,” Christie said with perfect serenity as François nuzzled his lithic cheeks against her shoulder, not letting anything show. “How are you?”
“Hoh?” The stoneshell grunted inquisitively.
“That is hard to say, but I would dare to say that I feel better than ever before,” the redhead smiled, and found herself noticing that it was a veritable gesture.
She was well aware that Agatha wasn’t looking for a perfect lover, that expectation just didn’t exist in the blonde’s mind, and she knew it. But that didn’t stop her from trying. Christie had an imperious need to succeed in everything she tried. She hadn’t studied day and night to get the best score on the statal examination because she liked studying, but because she craved to succeed at something.
For she failed at something as basic as keeping in check her agates.
Her eyes were fixated on those tarnished blond hairs and those dual sapphires even as the mock turtle kept pressing on her with his caresses. She is so beautiful… The pressure was greater than ever before. This wasn’t just about succeeding in something – whether it be love or academics – but about reciprocating. Whenever she looked at Agatha, Christie felt light, as if her inner sea didn’t exist, and she only seemed fair that she should answer with a better feeling for her seductress.
Christie ached to be incinerated by that sparkling light, but she also wanted to polish it. The brighter the shine was, the better for both of them.
