There are days she loves Rainer so much it frightens her, days when she wakes thinking of her and spends every conscious moment wishing she was there and falls asleep with her face buried in the pillow Rainer last used as if to summon her by memory alone. She once explained some of this to Rainer, in an attempt to make the point that yes, I am in love with you, despite all recommendations that I should not do that, and Rainer had responded by suggesting that perhaps Astoria is a fucking lunatic, but she still keeps coming back, so Astoria can't complain.
Like tonight. Rainer comes through the front door and Astoria is patient enough not to accost her immediately, though it doesn't take long. The doorknob turns and Astoria stands. Rainer toes her boots off and Astoria fidgets, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans in a rather desperate attempt to keep her cool. Rainer sets her bag down and finally, finally, Astoria gives herself permission to greet her properly, kissing her like she means to keep her there, like it's been an eternity since last they saw one another, like—
—well. Like she's in love with her, which they've covered already, so no need to dwell on it, except that Astoria can't really think about anything else. She manages not to say it again, though, opting instead for an I missed you murmured against her mouth and desperate hands grasping the lapels of her coat, pulling her closer, closer.
Astoria frightens Rainer.
The vast, fiery expanse of her self and her all-encompassing love feels... not wrong, exactly. No, not wrong at all-- Rainer is enamored with it, with her passion and her warmth and the unexpected sweetness of her lips and her soft body and her squishy little heart. The only problem is this: if feels like ill-gotten goods.
She isn't so pathetic as to whinge and whine about whether or not she deserves love. Apparently it's one of those things she's going to receive whether she deserves it or not, like wrath or forgiveness or any number of other feelings another person might freely give her without rhyme or reason, so she's figured by now there's no sense in angsting over it. Instead she thinks her reservations lie in her belief that Astoria... may not understand what she's getting into.
Which is fucking ridiculous. She's a grown woman, and one of the types that might be able to turn Rainer into a smear on the pavement in a half breath. But Rainer can't quite keep herself from wondering: what is it that Astoria sees in her, to inspire such devotion? Is what she sees even real? Is anything about her real?
Such awful things she ponders, while her feet fall heavily on her way to the front door, as marching her to her own execution. While her heart flutters nervously, happily, in anticipation.
Astoria fits so perfectly in her arms, too. Her shoulders tuck perfectly beneath her arms when Rainer wraps her arms around her, and the skin at the nape of her neck is smooth and very warm and she sighs so, so softly into the scant space between them and she even smells good. Good enough to eat, good enough to pull away from the kiss so Rainer can press her cool, dry lips to the hollow space beneath her jaw just for an excuse to smell her there.
"Hello, baby," she finally manages, sounding almost wobbly. "Are you going to let me take off my coat before you try to crawl inside of my ribs, or would you just like me to stand still and take it?"
