She saw Anton to the door after midnight, with him back in his leather armor and her wrapped in a lime-green sheet. Kisses lingered, but not for long -- he had to get home to Gavin, and Emilohi knew full well that Anton’s older son was far more important than a last embrace with a new lover.
With the door shut behind him, she wandered to a velvet couch and draped herself across it, the sheet pooling on the ground. A smile spread across her face, only to crumple seconds later into - no. Not tears. She refused tears, but here they were, and damn it. Damn it all.
Her flesh felt so good, stretched and strong, but gods, it should have been Lolade. Lolade was the one he saved from the ogres, Lolade was the one who’d spoken of taking the blacksmith out for a drink after she was healed. Perhaps ...perhaps it was ghoulish, that Emilohi was the one to bed him after her twin was gone. A man wasn’t a drink to be savored in a loved one’s honor.
He liked her smiles and her body. She liked his reserve and the slow intensity of his touch. Friends. She could be friends with such a man, both in bed and out. But tonight she imagined Lolade bringing him home and bragging of her find. Lolade blushing as she spoke of her new romance, Lolade sticking her hand out, newly decorated with a betrothal ring.
Gods, it was unfair. Utterly unfair. She dragged the sheet more tightly around her nakedness and curled her knees to her chest as she wept. She’d live for both of them now. Smiles, art, loving, friends. Everything Lolade might have wanted. Gods, it was all so unfair.
( @bries-alts for mentions! )
