for @morgwenmicrofic | prompt : « flowers » | 631 words
this is a follow-on from my previous fill for dress (here!)
Gwen stood on the doorstep, buzzing with nerves. The whole train ride to London had felt surreal, and it was only now that she was standing on Morganaâs porch that the reality of the situation sunk in. Gwen had been planning out what to say for the past three hours, but now that she was finally here, her mouth ran dry. She raised a shaking finger, and pressed the doorbell. It let out a sharp, clear, brrring. She looked down at the bouquet of flowers she clutched in her left hand â purple roses and delicate gypsophila, wrapped in pink, translucent cellophane. They reminded her of the dress Morgana had sent her.
Gwen wasnât sure why sheâd bought the flowers. Well, no, that wasnât true â sheâd bought them because theyâd make her think of Morgana, but that wasnât the point. It was Morgana that owed Gwen an apology, not the other way round. Nevertheless, it was Morgana who had sent Gwen that beautiful, silken dress, and it felt rude to turn up â unannounced, no less! â without a gift in return.
Gwen looked up from the flowers as the door opened. Andâ oh, how she had missed seeing the beautiful woman who stood before her.
âGwen!â Morgana froze, stunned. She had been hoping for a letter from Gwen ever since sheâd sent her the wedding invite, but only in her wildest dreams had she ever thought that Gwen would simply turn up at her doorstep.
âMorgana,â Gwen said by way of greeting, her lips curving into that soft smile of hers that Morgana knew and loved so well. They stood there for a few moments more, barely daring to make eye contact, when Morgana broke the silence.
And so Gwen went in, silently following Morgana up the stairs. Morganaâs new apartment was certainly luxurious. It was exactly the sort of place that suited her, Gwen thought. High ceilings and bright, modern lighting, but not completely removed from history â antique vases dotted the cabinets, and Gwen spotted a print of FĂŒssliâs The Nightmare hanging on the wall of one of the rooms they passed. Morgana led them to the living room, which boasted a stunning view of the London skyline. Two sofas lay facing the enormous window â Morgana took the one to the right, and Gwen perched hesitantly on the other.
âIâm sorry to have just turned up out of the blueââ Gwen began, but Morgana cut her off.
âNo, donât apologise, Gwen.â Morgana sighed, head turning to face the window. âI shouldâve sent you a letter sooner, orâ God, Iâm sorry.â She sighed again, and turned back to Gwen. âIâve missed you,â she whispered softly, her voice cracking. âIâve no right to miss you, but Iâve missed you terribly.â
Gwen could see the tears in her eyes, and something within her broke. She placed the bouquet of flowers down on the side table, and walked over to join Morgana on the sofa.
âIâm sorry too,â Gwen whispered back, taking Morganaâs warm hand in her own. âI shouldnât have left, I shouldâve let you explainââ
âSsh, now.â Morgana placed a finger to Gwenâs lips, and Gwen melted. Maybe it was wrong to still want the very woman who had in many ways ruined her life, but Gwen was past caring. She had spent too long denying herself pleasure. Now that she was finally face to face with Morgana again, all common sense seemed to have left her. Her inhibitions melted away, and she was left consumed by one simple, burning desire. She pushed Morganaâs finger from her lips, and leaned forward to press her lips to Morganaâs own.
The flowers lay on the side table, momentarily forgotten, as Gwen gave Morgana a gift far better than even the most exquisite bouquet.
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