I wrote this a few weeks ago and was going to scrap it but I after this week I think it slots in nicely around all this sad Lisa stuff (boo).
the morning is so far away, just close your eyes and dream or pray.
“Everything is going to be alright, isn’t it?”
Vanessa’s voice is quiet, even to her own ears. Too quiet, she wonders with a question. Maybe too quiet for Charity to hear.
“Course it is,” Charity says sleepily, nestled tight up against her back. Her arms move around Vanessa’s middle more securely, pulling her closer in, exhaling when her cold feet find a warm stretch of skin on Vanessa’s calves. “Managed to get most of the gum out of Moses’ hair, didn’t we? He’ll be telling the story like a war brag come Monday, just you wait.”
“I don’t mean that,” Vanessa says quietly, glad for their current position and the dark to hide the worry that she can feel over every inch of her face.
She can feel Charity wait for her to fill the silence like she normally does, dropping her ruminations into the space between them, but Vanessa can’t quite find the way to articulate herself tonight so she bites her lip instead and tries to keep the quiver out of her breathing so Charity won’t notice that she’s a second away from crying.
It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk, she does, she needs to exorcise the worry in her heart so desperately she can barely breathe but the problem is that she doesn’t know how to start. They’re pretty good at this non-verbal communication now, she and Charity, they’ve spent months wading through trauma, refining the ability to read what it is they’re not saying. She knows that if she gives Charity some kind of signal, if she’s awake enough, she’ll understand what it is Vanessa can’t do enough to try and tap the source.
She counts ten slow breaths before Charity moves behind her, pushing up on an elbow to look over Vanessa’s shoulder.
“What do you mean, babe?” Charity asks with the softness that Vanessa only ever hears when it’s just the two of them here in bed, away from the rest of the world.
Charity’s chin presses into the bare skin of her upper arm, the weight intended to ground her, the gesture long practised between them, the familiarity enough to make Vanessa’s throat squeeze tight.
“Ness,” Charity says quietly when Vanessa still doesn’t speak, combing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Babe, talk to me.”
Vanessa pushes a breath out between her teeth. “Doesn’t it ever just get too much?”
She bites her lip hard to steady her breathing. “I mean, we never get a break, ever do we? I thought we’d have some time, you know, after everything last year to just live and be normal. And now…. first Lisa and now this thing with Mike. I mean- what if I have to be at his beck and call for years, what if it starts to get more demanding than the dogs and he-“
“Vanessa, take a breath,” Charity says firmly, her hand curling around Vanessa’s arm.
She rises up onto an elbow properly, pushing at Vanessa’s shoulder until she rolls onto her back. Her eyes aren’t cross like Vanessa’s expecting from the strength of her tone, they’re concerned instead. “Babe,” she asks evenly. “What’s going on?”
“It’s just- normally it’s only one of us, you know,” Vanessa sniffs as a tear rolls down the side of her face, “one of us dealing with something, one of us in the middle of something awful, just one of us so the other one can be strong.”
She wipes crossly at her tears, angry at herself until she catches the unusually calm look on Charity’s face.
“How did you do it?” Vanessa asks her, the question suddenly overwhelming. “For years and years, holding onto all that weight with no one to talk to or help you? How the hell did you cope when I can’t even deal with this?”
“I’ve got no idea, to be honest, babe,” Charity sighs, rubbing her thumb over Vanessa’s arm soothingly.
Her voice sounds far away as she talks. Distant like she’s holding herself high above those memories, out of their reach, somewhere they can’t touch her.
She chews her bottom lip before she answers Vanessa’s question, her gaze finally focussing when she speaks. “Because I had to, I think. You can do mad things when you don’t have any other choice but to push through.”
“I’m sorry, this is pathetic,” Vanessa says, brushing another tear off her face. “You must think I’m pathetic. You can live through years of that and look at me, I’m a sobbing mess over barely anything.”
“Oi, it’s not a competition, alright?” Charity reprimands, pressing her thumbs into the muscle of Vanessa’s upper arm. “Babe, I never broke down because I knew I’d never get back up if I did, not because I was strong enough to stop it. I didn’t want them to win like that, I didn’t want them to be right, I didn’t want to be as weak as they all told me I was, and somewhere deep down, I didn’t actually want to die.”
“Charity-“
“Just listen for a second, alright?” Charity says, shaking her head. “You’ve been plenty strong, Ness. Last year you were like a bloody hurricane keeping me upright during all the trial stuff, and then the Ryan stuff, all while you had Tracy to worry about, and me being an occasional pillock to deal with too. But you have me here, don’t you, ring and all to show for it? Maybe that’s why it’s all gotten on top of you now. Because you know deep down you’re allowed to have a bit of a cry. Because deep down you know someone’ll boot you out of bed in the morning if you don’t get out yourself. Because you’ve got someone here to help. I never had that.”
“I should be doing that for you now, not this way around,” Vanessa frowns. “It’s my own fault I’m in this with Mike, because I can’t be bad to save my life, but Lisa’s like your mum, and here I am making this all about me again.”
“Hey, you know I didn’t mean that when I said it,” Charity says softly. “You never bloody make anything about you,” she adds with a grumble, “that’s why I was cross. And because I think I knew you were right, only I didn’t want to admit it.”
“But-“
“No, look stop deflecting for two seconds, will you? You’re allowed to feel like shit sometimes, Ness. You’re allowed to have a day or two of being in a foul mood. You’re allowed to need me to be something for you. Swings and roundabouts, yeah? I know I don’t say it enough either but you being there last year, not running away scared or disgusted or judging me, I reckon I owe you a lifetime of being whatever you need for that.”
There’s an ease with which Charity speaks, like the things she’s saying aren’t just words; she means every single one of them. It’s as good a declaration of love as Vanessa’s ever heard before and the tears start flowing thick and free before Charity tuts like she’s annoyed but not really and pulls Vanessa in for as much of a hug as their current positions will allow.
“I wondered in the very beginning of this whether it was humanly possible for you to cry, you know,. You put up with a good deal without so much as a handful of tears when I thought you’d be blubbering,” Charity jokes softly above her, nuzzling her cheek against the top of Vanessa’s head before she speaks again. “Tell me what you need, Ness.”
“I just need you,” Vanessa hiccups around a sob before she pulls back to look at Charity, desperate suddenly to see the light she can hear in her voice. “That’s all. Just you.”
Charity hums something indiscernible to the top of her head as she sways ever so slightly with Vanessa in her arms. Not a word as such; just a sound. Something smooth and melodic that loosens the panic that Vanessa can feel in the middle of her chest. Something that, here and now, makes her feel safe; even though she knows the worry will be waiting for them come the morning.
“I’m here, babe,” Charity whispers to her, brushing the fresh tears off Vanessa’s cheeks with a kiss. “Just close your eyes, and take a breath. I’m here. We both are. Nothing else matters until the morning.”
“Charity, come on,” Vanessa calls impatiently up the stairs. “Chas said you were ready an hour ago. If you don’t hurry up we’re going to be - oh.”
She feels her hold on the bannister slacken as Charity takes the last few steps down to the bottom of the staircase, the curls in her hair bouncing as her hand slides over Vanessa’s and squeezes.
“Sorry, babe,” Charity says smugly, standing far closer than necessary as she joins her, her chest brushing Vanessa’s when she stands up straight.
“No, you’re not,” Vanessa returns with a smile, her annoyance melting away as Charity’s hand tracks down her shoulder, her nails dragging until the touch fades at her elbow.
“No, I’m not,” Charity grins, the points of her teeth flashing in the low light of the hallway. “Forgive me though?”
“Maybe,” Vanessa replies, shrugging in some loose attempt as casualness that she knows her blush contradicts. “Depends how good a dinner date you are,” she adds. “Points deducted for spoiling the surprise for yourself though.”
“Come on, Ness,” Charity argues, rolling her eyes and taking a step back. “Hardly my fault you can’t keep a secret from me to save your life.”
“Is it my mine when you’re the one who found the reservation confirmation on my phone?” Vanessa asks with a raised eyebrow.
“I was trying to leave a little Valentine’s Day surprise in your photos,” Charity replies moodily, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Didn’t mean to see it, did I? Was just there on the screen, lookin’ up at me.”
“Well if it’s any consolation, the picture was well worth you ruining the surprise,” Vanessa admits, sliding her arms around Charity’s waist and pulling her forward to close the gap between them. “Just about dropped my drink when I found it, but-“
“But you liked it?” Charity asks pointedly, biting her lip unconsciously as her eyes find Vanessa’s.
“Course I did,” Vanessa nods, brushing the tip of her nose against Charity’s. “I mean, it was beyond irresponsible because you know the boys play with my phone but yes, Charity,” she says, moving her hands to Charity’s backside, squeezing firmly, “I liked it a lot.”
“Careful,” Charity says in a low tone, the one that makes the hair on the back of Vanessa’s neck stand on end, “keep carrying on like this and I’ll want to take you straight to bed and have my dinner there, reservation or not.”
“Or,” Vanessa says smoothly, meeting Charity’s eye, “you could let me take you to dinner and then let you take me upstairs when we get home.”
“Babe, I don’t care how good this posh place is yeah?” Charity replies with an impatient growl, “I can guarantee it’s not going to be as much fun as what I can do up there.”
“But it might be fun,” Vanessa hums, “trying to keep your hands to yourself under the table.”
“Or not,” Charity says with a smirk, slipping her hand under Vanessa’s jacket, pressing her palm against the curve of Vanessa’s ribs, just below her breast.
“Please, Charity, you look gorgeous,” Vanessa sighs when Charity’s hand creeps higher and higher. “I just want to-“
“Show me off?” Charity says with a hint of coldness in her voice. Or cynicism. Like that’s something she knows far too well.
“No,” Vanessa affirms quickly, shaking her head in reassurance, “I want to treat you, do something nice for you. Say thank you for everything you’ve done while I’ve been laid up like an invalid. That isn’t something I could give to you any night I wanted to.” She scratches lightly at Charity’s lower back until her eyes flicker up to meet hers. “This has nothing to do with me showing you off, alright? You’re not my property.”
“Sorry, babe,” Charity says in a rush, shaking the cloudiness from her eyes. “Just knee-jerk, eh? Used to it being the only reason anyone wanted to go anywhere with me.”
“Well for my sins, I do it for your company too,” Vanessa smirks, trying to prompt a smile from Charity. “I mean, I’m never going to complain about the eye candy, but I’m not overly keen on anyone else having a good gawp at you.”
“You’ll just have to kiss me in front of them all giving me the eye, won’t you?” Charity says warmly, Vanessa’s reassurance sinking down into her skin. “Get a bit handsy so they know I’m spoken for.”
“Or, we could just get you a ring,” Vanessa replies in an attempt at casualness. They haven’t really spoken about it properly, they haven’t had time for Vanessa to pitch her argument with any robustness but she wishes Charity would let her do something, would let her give some token of this commitment in return. “Then everyone will know you’re spoken for without me having to snog your face off at every opportunity.”
“Why on earth would I do something that would make you stop doing that?” Charity scoffs, pulling Vanessa flush against her, looking down to her lips. “I’m not an idiot, babe.”
“No, but-“
“I don’t need anything, Ness,” Charity says, cutting across her gently. “You said yes. That’s more than enough for me.”
“I know, but…” Vanessa trails off, hesitant to voice what’s on her mind for fear that it sounds as petulant as she’s afraid it will. “I’ve got this beautiful ring and you’ve got nothing and sometimes it feels… I dunno, like I’m the only one engaged. Even though I know I’m not, and I know you’ve done this before and you don’t need it, but-“
“Babe,” Charity laughs, silencing her with a kiss. “If it means that much, we’ll get something, yeah? I just didn’t want you to think I expected anything because I know we’re both skint and I have done this before.”
“I know, it’s just…” Vanessa bites her lip. “I want this to be different. I want you to feel excited for this like I am.”
“Of course I’m excited, you plum, but it’s-I dunno, a wedding is a wedding, yeah? It’s a day,” Charity says, tossing her hair out of her eyes again and putting a hint of distance between them. “I’ve had the posh ones and the expensive ones and the cheap ones and they all end the same way, no matter how much money you throw at them,” she says, as Vanessa’s heart sinks just slightly. “I used to think that’s what getting married was, yeah? But I know it’s all the stuff that comes after it that’s really important, and I know that now, so that’s the bit I’m excited for. Yeah, I want to see you in a gorgeous frock and pull a garter off you with my teeth in front of everyone but I want the marriage more, Ness. And it’s never been that way round before. I’m sorry, eh? If I haven’t been more excited, but don’t doubt for a second that I am. I can’t wait to call you my wife, babe. Can’t bloody wait.”
“Oh,” Vanessa says a little dumbly, trying to fight the way her eyes are watering just slightly. “I didn’t realise you felt like that.”
“What? About the garter?” Charity replies teasingly, bumping her hip against Vanessa’s. “I dunno if they’re even a thing nowadays but I’ll get my hands on one somehow because pulling that down your thigh-“
“I mean all of it,” Vanessa grumbles around a smile. “I didn’t know you felt that way about the marriage bit.”
“Isn’t that what you’re excited about too?” Charity asks her, a hint of unexpected earnestness in her eyes.
“Of course it is,” Vanessa says in reassurance, rubbing her hands down Charity’s arms. “I can’t wait to call you my wife every morning when we wake up together. I can’t wait to do everything with you with a wedding ring on my finger, and maybe it is childish, but I can’t wait for the actual day too. I can’t wait to see you on a dress and I can’t wait to put that ring on your finger and hear someone say you may kiss your wife and try desperately not to cry the whole way through it. It doesn’t have to be big or expensive,” Vanessa shrugs, “I just want it to be special, for both of us.”
“You know, someone annoyingly positive once told me that wherever I was would be her special place,” Charity says smugly, waiting for Vanessa to smile in her realisation. “So I guess as long as you’re there it’ll be perfect, won’t it.”
“You guess?” Vanessa hums with a pretend annoyance, turning her head to the side to allow Charity to press a kiss to her jawline.
“No, I know, babe,” Charity replies seriously. “I know, don’t I? Wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t.”
“I suppose not,” Vanessa says, smiling when Charity’s attention turns smoother, her lips on Vanessa’s neck more purposeful.
“You suppose?” Charity objects in a high pitch, pulling herself back from Vanessa’s throat with a frown.
“No,” Vanessa smirks, pulling Charity closer again so she can instigate a kiss herself, threading her hands into the hair at the nape of Charity’s neck and deepening it until Charity sighs and groans against her. “I know too,” Vanessa mumbles against her lips.
“Great,” Charity says, tugging on Vanessa’s hand in the direction of the stairs, “so upstairs it is then?”
“No,” Vanessa sighs in a playful exasperation. “Dinner,” she says, pulling Charity towards the door instead, “and then bed.”
“It had better be a bloody good dinner,” Charity grumbles, sliding her arms around Vanessa’s middle, pressing her front against Vanessa’s back as they walk through the doorway.
“Think of it this way,” Vanessa says softly, turning her head to brush her cheek against Charity’s as she pushes her backside against Charity’s hips suggestively, “stop complaining, eh? Because you’ll have a decent dessert either way.”
I'll open this post by saying that the idea and inspiration for this minific came from @piratekane about a month ago, so due credit to you, bud. Thanks for the inspo.
Tweaked sliiiighly to make it a bit Christmas-ey for @vanityfest
-
“Who am I?”
The question takes Vanessa by surprise when she’s packing her bag, preparing to leave the farm having finished their vaccinations for the afternoon.
It’s getting colder and colder at night now that mid-winter is drawing closer, it’ll be full-dark by the time they get home and Charity can press a hot mug of something into Vanessa’s hand, and pull her down onto the couch to watch the lights of the tree flicker in the corner of their lounge.
She turns around to find Moses holding his plastic apron out in front of him, folding it ready to stow back in the boot next to Vanessa’s own.
She’s taken to bringing Moses along on most of her non-urgent call-outs over the past six months. He has an extremely natural aptitude for animal husbandry, and he’ll make an excellent vet if he chooses to follow it through when he finishes school.
He pushes his hair out of his face as he looks at her earnestly. There’s more of Charity in Noah, the two of them peas in a pod these days now that he’s surpassed her in height. Moses, though, is a little more of an enigma. There’s a bit of Barton in him, Vanessa can see it when Ross smiles sometimes, but there’s not a lot of Dingle.
He’s a bit of an old soul, truth be told. It’s why he’s so good with animals. It’s why Vanessa enjoys bringing him out every chance she gets. Because she knows what it’s like to exist in a house full of people louder than yourself, it’s easy to get drowned out until they remember that the other people that inhabit the space with them are there too.
“What do you mean, love?” Vanessa asks with a patient frown. “Didn’t fall and knock your head when I wasn’t looking, did you?”
“No,” he says, flushing red. He screws the apron into a tight ball in his hands. “I mean, I dunno, Ness,” he says with a defeated sigh, “don’t worry about it, yeah?”
“Hey,” Vanessa says quickly, reaching for his arm, stopping him from shrugging of and reburying his worries. There’s Charity, she thinks with a smirk. The old Charity, anyway. Running away instead of facing her feelings when he’s scared. “Hey, I’m not your brother, alright, either one of them. You don’t ever have to feel like you can’t say something to me. Especially if you’re worried about it.”
“You won’t make fun of me?” he asks hesitantly, dropping his eyes and scuffing his toe into the dirt of the barn floor.
“Never, love,” Vanessa says as her heart tugs painfully. She needs to have another word to the rabble at home about talking about things, she thinks with an internal scowl. “Never.”
His hair is tidier than the rest of his family, something else that picks him apart from the crowd. It’s blonder than his mother’s and his brother’s and Debbie’s, surprisingly blonde given his father. It’s closer to Vanessa’s natural colour, funnily enough. She wonders if it’ll darken next year when he leaves for college.
He pushes it out of his eyes again before he finally looks up to Vanessa again.
“Sometimes I just don’t know who I am, you know?” he says quietly, dropping his eyes to his feet again. “Johnny’s yours by blood, yeah? But him and Mum are thick as thieves. Noah’s Noah, and Tracy seems to be the only one who actually understands him apart from Mum, but I dunno. Sometimes I don’t feel like I fit, you know. I’ve never really felt like a Dingle.”
“Funny old mantle, that, isn’t it?” Vanessa says, taking the apron from his hands, chucking it in the boot of the car and walking him over to the tap to wash their hands. “Being a Dingle, I mean. Your mum pushed against it for years, you know that, don’t you? It’s only since.... well, since we’ve been together that it’s a good thing for her, too. Since her family have proper come around and supported her, and made her feel like it was something she wanted. It’s been a curse for her for a long time.”
She tugs him by the elbow gently, smiling when he bends down and turns the stuck old tap on for the both of them, pulling the anti-bacterial soap from out of the bucket they’d left near the tap earlier. She can see him clenching his jaw, trying to hold back more emotion than he can control so it doesn’t show in his eyes.
Funny, she thinks as she pushes her hands under the strong, freezing cold rush of water. Charity does that too.
“There’s more of your mum in you than you know,” Vanessa says kindly when she straightens up, reaching up to brush her palm against his cheek, after Moses hands her the towel to dry them off with. “You’ve just got the quiet parts, darling.”
He’s different to her too, though. Charity will preen in the face of any genuine compliment without fail, but Moses always only ever smiles and turns his gaze away.
“You know what?” Vanessa says after watching him carefully for a moment. He looks up when he hears her speak, blinking when an odd breeze whips a bit of dust around them. She squeezes his hand in her own before continuing. “You might be a Dingle, love, but I feel like you’re more Woodfield most of the time. Even if I am a Dingle now, too.”
She’s a Dingle. She still can’t believe it herself most of the time, but the wedding ring that she can feel in her pocket pressed against the skin that she’ll fish out and put back on once they’re in the car is a solid, steady reminder. They’ve had the odd bump here and there, but Vanessa’s so happy, and so stupidly in love with Charity, even more than a decade after their wedding, that she’s still not completely convinced this is all just an incredibly extensive fever dream.
She’s happy, and settled, and content, and so is Charity, deeply so, and so - Vanessa thought anyway - was their little blended family with their house full of warmth, and gifts, and garish christmas decorations that Charity keeps swearing she isn’t the one buying.
Moses makes a soft sound of amusement that tells her he’s pleased with her deduction, smiling warmly and squeezing her hand in reply. “Mum says that sometimes,” he sighs, “that she thinks somehow they switched me and Jo in the hospital, ‘cause they’re so alike.” A sad expression washes over his face. “Don’t get me wrong, Ness, bein’ a Woodfield is grand and all, but,” he stalls again, wiping at his cheek with his spare hand, “now that you’re a Dingle too, who does that make me?”
He wears his heart on his sleeve if you know what to look for, just like Charity does, and she feels her throat thicken at the genuine anguish in his eyes.
Who he is, is ultimately simple though. He’s a part of her, just as much as her own son is. She might love his mother more than life itself, but he’s an extremely close second.
“You’re my son, Moses,” Vanessa replies effortlessly, smiling a wobbly, watery smile before she pulls him to her, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. He’s just taller than Johnny, shorter than Noah and Charity, and she can rest her chin perfectly on his shoulder as she sniffs, rubbing at his back. “You’re all your Mum’s, and you always will be, but you’re my son, too.”
Written for @vanityfest 2018, Day 5: Celebrations, Family and Friends. This is a kind of celebration? Is marking a year of their relationship with another cellar trip a celebration? It’s a stretch, maybe, but bear with me. Also I’m too lazy to put this on ao3 because it’s so short, so hopefully this will do.
-
The light’s almost gone out of the sky but there’s a ring of bright red and pink highlighting the back of the pub, framing Charity like a portrait. It’s just late enough in the evening that Chas won’t be too grumpy at Vanessa for dragging Charity away without a goodbye, but early enough that they still have hours before midnight.
“Come here often then, do you?” Charity’s voice cuts through the warm autumn night like something out of a dream, although Vanessa’s not sure this isn’t actually still one.
Because Charity, leaning up against the side of the Woolpack, holding out her hand to draw Vanessa into her side so she can back her against the wall, is something straight out of one.
“Occasionally,” Vanessa replies casually, watching the way the last few weeks, the resolution with Ryan, Charity’s growing acceptance of the verdict and the visit to her father, how things have been so easy between them, makes Charity’s skin glow.
Happiness looks good on her, Vanessa thinks with a lazy smile, spreading her fingers just a little wider so Charity can flex her own between Vanessa’s before closing her fist, squeezing their hands together.
“Something worth coming back for, is there?” Charity asks, stretching their arms out to their sides, still holding Vanessa’s hands tightly. It’s playful, the movement, everything about her body is.
“You could say that, yeah,” Vanessa replies casually, tipping her head to the side when Charity moves in for a kiss, smirking when Charity ducks her head quickly so she can catch Vanessa’s lips against hers.
“You could say that?” Charity asks with a playful tone of objection wrapped around her words. She leans her body heavily against Vanessa’s and they both sigh into the feeling of their warmth mixing, the limits of their own bodies melting to accommodate their other half.
If someone had told Vanessa a year ago that Charity Dingle would be in a happy, established relationship, smiling like a school girl, she’d have called them mindless. And yet here it is, and here she is, putting the smile there. It’s ridiculous, this whole thing, but maybe that’s why it works so well because neither of them had a single expectation coming into this thing, to begin with.
And yet somewhere along the line, Vanessa thinks she might have found the love of her life.
Things will never be easy with Charity, she can’t expect them to be with the history they’ve both had, but they’ll be smooth, they’ll be happy, and with any luck they’ll always be as electric as they are now, because it’s been a year since Charity first took her to bed, and Vanessa’s wanting of her hasn’t waned one tiny bit.
Nor has Charity’s of her, she thinks as Charity’s attention moves to her neck, dragging her teeth over the warm skin there, hard enough to make Vanessa’s back arch off the wall but tender enough that Vanessa groans with it too, trying to untangle her hands, overwhelmed by the urge to bury them in Charity’s hair.
“Hard not being able to touch, isn’t it?” Charity growls against her pulse, the low rumble of it making Vanessa’s stomach drop. “Imagine me, behind that bar watching you parade around in front of me all night.”
“So pull me out the back,” Vanessa replies, Charity’s obvious desire and the soft smell of a fading summer, of freshly mown grass and the lingering heat of concrete making her feel drunk with recklessness. “Never stopped yourself before, have you?”
“Proper ladies don’t let their girlfriends shag them in the cellars of pubs though, do they?” Charity says, and it’s a challenge, her eyes bright and her thigh right against Vanessa’s core.
“Since when are either of us proper ladies?” Vanessa returns with a high eyebrow, her eyes fluttering closed at the friction, her hands tightening in Charity’s.
“Here’s me trying to be chivalrous,” Charity replies with a high pitched objection, “and you’re-“
Vanessa catches the rest of the complaint in her mouth and Charity kisses her hard for her trouble, her teeth nipping sharply at Vanessa’s bottom lip. “Cellar’s empty now, you know,” Charity says suggestively when she breaks the kiss, throwing her head in the direction of the pub.
“And we’ve got a bed about the same distance away,” Vanessa replies, her eyes narrowed, but not completely dismissive. They’ve had more fun there than Vanessa would care to admit in polite company, and she can’t deny the temptation of the offer.
“A bed, how boring,” Charity drawls, “come on, babe, where’s your sense of adventure? I’ll get you in bed eventually if you’re desperate for it, but I’ll put five quid on that cellar being closer.”
Charity leans in, teasing her lips against Vanessa’s, holding herself back just far enough that Vanessa can’t find a satisfying amount of contact, groaning, pushing against Charity’s hold only to have Charity pin her arms firmly to her sides.
“Come on, Ness,” Charity purrs, and Vanessa knows she’s done for: hopelessly, blindly done for. Charity smiles when she whispers her next words against Vanessa’s lips, and Vanessa’s knees falter, “for old times sake.”
“If Chas or Paddy interrupt us this time, I’m not stopping,” Vanessa says stubbornly, trying to give some illusion that she’s not already completely sold on the idea.
“Didn’t peg you for a voyeur,” Charity smirks, pressing her weight against Vanessa again, Vanessa’s boldness making her eyes darken.
“Shut up and take me inside before I change my mind,” Vanessa grumbles, but she’s already smiling before Charity even tugs her off the wall, her shoulders tall and proud as she leads Vanessa in through the back of the pub.
Happiness looks like a crown on Charity, Vanessa thinks, it’s gorgeous, and she knows it’ll be fleeting, that they’ll always have more conflict to come, but for now it’s enough to dwell in the calm eye of the storm.
It’s enough to slide her free hand around Charity’s middle as she leans against her back while Charity jimmys the cellar door open, finding bare skin and dragging her nails until Charity shivers and mutters something about distraction and never get the bloody door open at this rate.
“You’d best hurry then,” Vanessa drawls, leaning over Charity’s shoulder and whispering into her ear as her hand slips beneath the waistband of Charity’s pants. “Or Chas is going to get a right fright when she sees us against the door.”
“Nothing but trouble, you,” Charity husks, shoving the door sharply with the weight of her hip, sighing heavily when the sticky hinge gives way.
“Maybe you should do something about it, then?” Vanessa asks as her fingers find a deeply satisfying heat and Charity’s breath comes out in a rush.
“Maybe I should,” Charity says, walking them through the door into the little hallway, and leaning up against the closed door, pulling Vanessa to her, “or maybe I should give you something to keep you busy for five minutes, instead. Idle hands and all that?”
“Five minutes?” Vanessa asks teasingly, kissing the underside of Charity’s jaw when her head drops back against the door. “Think you’ll last that long?”
“Only one way to find out, babe,” Charity replies with an impressively steady voice that only falters at the last second.
It’s immensely satisfying to know that she can do this, that she can make Charity Dingle’s resolve waver, that she can make her breath catch and her eyes darken.
“Right you are,” Vanessa returns, grinning broadly before she kisses Charity and her fingertips taste a heat lower down. “Only one way to find out.”
I wrote this while I was on my holiday, it was all very meta and I had a bit of a giggle, but felt a bit rusty because I hardly got to write. Hopefully it’s readable all the same.
-
“Took me a minute to remember we were in our bed, eh?” Charity says when Vanessa’s eyes flutter open, her voice slightly rough with the morning. She’s taken to waking before Vanessa lately, rising earlier and watching her sleep for a half hour or so before Vanessa rouses herself.
It’s nice, Vanessa thinks. Being adored like this half-asleep.
“Mmmm it’s good to be home though, isn’t it?” Vanessa asks, stretching out long in the bed, smiling internally at the way Charity adjusts her body subtly around Vanessa’s to allow her the room to move freely without putting any real distance between them.
Charity’s been almost glued to her side since Ryan’s return to her life, no, to their lives Vanessa thinks with a warm beat of her heart, because Ryan’s been as inclusive as Charity has been in carving out a space for her beside them as they get to know each other, in a way she most definitely hadn’t been expecting. She’s not sure whether it’s Charity’s way of saying thank you at her interfering that has ultimately helped to repair the damage Charity’s initial lack of recognition to her wider family had caused, or whether the whole realignment of the people near her has just made Charity feel closer to her.
It doesn’t matter what it is ultimately though, all Vanessa knows is that she won’t question it for a second, she’ll relish it instead, nuzzling into Charity’s neck when Charity pulls her closer once her yawn retreats.
“You said our bed,” Vanessa realises after a moment, speaking her thought out loud, but her heart stops in her chest the second the last word is out of her mouth.
She feels a rush of instant regret, only at the fear that her comment will be one step too far, that it’ll make Charity stiffen beside her at the assumed familiarity and pull away. She’s completely surprised then to feel Charity not push her away and put distance between them, but pull Vanessa closer.
“You don’t have to be worried about scaring me off, Ness,” Charity says with that uncanny knack of reading Vanessa’s mind that she seems to have developed over the last month or so, rolling her eyes when Vanessa holds her body still in Charity’s arms. “I meant what I said the other day, yeah? I know I’ve got a good thing here. I’m not gonna spoil that because it’s more than I’ve had in a long time.”
“Are you sure?” Vanessa says warily, pushing a messy strand of Charity’s hair behind her ear as they lean up on their sides, looking at one another. “Because I don’t need to rush a thing, I don’t. I promise. I don’t even know why I said that because I’m perfectly content, Charity, more so than I’ve been in as long as I can remember.”
“If you want to call it our bed, call it our bed,” Charity replies with a shrug that’s casual in nature but so much more than that at the same time. It’s loaded with everything Vanessa didn’t know she had been waiting for with Charity. Hope. True possibility. A proper potential for a future. She snorts before turning to Vanessa with a smirk on her lips. “I’d rather it was that than anyone else’s, ours I mean, wouldn’t I?”
Both of their skin still holds the elasticity and relaxation of their short, unplanned holiday, the woes and worries of real life still lingering on the periphery, out of sight for a little while longer. Vanessa makes a noise of deep contentment in her throat when Charity’s hands move up her side over her half-clothed body, pushing the singlet of hers that Vanessa’s taken to wearing to bed the last few months up Vanessa’s stomach, so she can run her hands over Vanessa’s bare breasts. The groan of contentment turns lower, deeper, when Charity’s hand squeezes lightly, her thumb moving over Vanessa’s nipple with a familiarity born of nights and nights and nights spent learning every inch of each other.
“All sorts of perks if it’s our bed after all, aren’t there?” Charity says smoothly, pushing Vanessa onto her back, tracing her index finger down the hollow between Vanessa’s breasts where she’s rucked the shirt fully up now, before her lips wrap around Vanessa’s nipple. “You’re always in it with me, for one.”
“Suppose so,” Vanessa replies breathlessly, as Charity’s hand slips between her legs.
She’s good at this, Charity is, she knows Vanessa’s body better than she knows it herself by now. She knows what makes Vanessa’s knees shake, she knows what makes her back arch, she knows what makes her scream.
“I can protect you from the things that go bump in the night, too,” Charity says when Vanessa’s breathing evens much later, when Charity’s hand smoothes over her belly, over all the lines that Vanessa hates now that she’s on the other side of forty that Charity always takes the time to kiss and touch, that she takes the time to appreciate in a way none of Vanessa’s other lovers ever have.
Charity is different in every way, Vanessa knows this now more than ever. She’s different to every image the naive masses in this village have in their minds. She’s different to the picture Vanessa had in her own head in the beginning, even. She’s fierce but in all the right ways. She’s hard but in the ways she needs to be, that she’s had to be in her past to survive. She’s soft too, but only for the right people. Only for Vanessa. She’s everything for Vanessa, in fact.
“What about the things that go bump in the day?” Vanessa asks quietly, pulling Charity closer to her, nuzzling in the space between her neck and shoulder as if the action alone will keep the world out, will keep the impending trial and the damage she knows Bails is waiting to inflict at bay, too. “Can you protect me from those as well. Can you protect us from them?”
“I’ll protect you from everything, babe,” Charity says easily, and Vanessa knows that she means it, with every ounce of her being. She’s just not sure if it’s going to be enough.
“You have to protect yourself as well,” Vanessa replies, and she can hear the fear in her voice, and knows that Charity will recognise it too. “Or let me protect you.”
“I think you’re probably one of the few people up to that job, you know, babe,” Charity responds with a wink, and it rolls over Vanessa like a lazy wave then, just how far they’ve come, the two of them, since the beginning. How so very different this Charity is to the one who kissed her in the cellar, but how similar parts of her are too.
“We’ll protect each other, how does that sound?” Vanessa says firmly, wrapping her arms around Charity’s shoulders and closing her eyes, listening to Charity’s heartbeat fall into step with her own.
They need to get up, they’ll have little hands pounding on the door any second now but Vanessa could stay here forever if the world kept its distance for just a little longer. The words I love you buzz on her tongue, and she knows they’re on the tip of Charity’s nowadays too but neither of them have let them fall just yet, because there’s no haste needed. She knows that Charity’s not going anywhere anymore, and she thinks that Charity knows the same of her. This family unit they’ve build with bricks and sweat and blood is solid enough to weather what they’ve been through so far, and it’ll be solid enough to see them through the trial too.
“Just five more minutes,” Charity grumbles sleepily against her cheek, and Vanessa can feel her breathing even out, can feel Charity’s body relaxing against her own and reality slipping from the edges of Charity’s grasp. It’s a privilege to see this side of Charity, to have her trust like this, and Vanessa never passes up the opportunity to marvel when she’s presented with an easy illustration of it.
“Five more minutes,” Vanessa replies, stroking the soft hair at the nape of Charity’s neck, smiling when Charity makes a noise of pure relaxation against her.
She never thought a contentment like this was possible, certainly not with Charity Dingle of all people, but Vanessa will die before she sees anyone take it from her now.
“Five more minutes, Charity,” Vanessa says quietly, but she can feel that Charity is already asleep.
She grins against the warmth of Charity’s cheek, her fingers winding delicately around a ringlet of dark blonde hair again and again and again, like a soft, silent love poem. She’ll beat back the world for this, for Charity, for their family, with her bare hands and teeth if necessary.
Charity remembers reading a book about Greek mythology when she was small, in a house with a few other working girls and the bloke who used to thump the guys that were a bit too rough with them. It was something one of the girls had left over from her school textbooks from a Classics class about the great tragedies of the old world, with yellowed pages and pictures scribbled by bored kids in the margins.
She remembers the other girls laughing at her when she’d picked it up, why bother reading, babe they’d said, not like blokes pay for your brains now, is it.
She remembers reading about girls who were abused on the steps of temples by gods, of goddesses and whores and the daughters of great kings alike, all treated the same despite their great or poor standing, and at fifteen being cynical and broken enough to think good, it’s not just us who suffer, then.
She remembers being eighteen when one of Bails friends comes calling, for work of all things, to remind the pimp looking after them all to lay low or he’d have to arrest the lot of them next time for solicitation. She remembers catching his eye across the room and him paling like a white fish before he’d made a gruff excuse and left like he was never there, and never came back. She remembers thinking good, it’s not just us who remember, then.
She lost count of the stories in the book after long, of which ones were legend and which ones were fact, because they were all as awful as each other in the end. They all had the same shit endings whether they were true or not: the women suffer.
The women always suffer.
She thought that was the way of the world for years after that, the women suffer for the actions of men and the men come out as clean and innocent as the day they were born. She might not wear her scars for all and sundry to see like the women she used to read about, but they’re there plain enough for anyone who’s looking. Vanessa had seen them a mile off without Charity saying a word.
She sees a copy of the book when she’s walking through Hotten holding Vanessa’s hand one day in the late summer, when the drop in temperature is finally beginning to find the evenings.
There are goosebumps on Vanessa’s forearms as they near the shop and Charity shrugs her cardigan off with a scowl at Vanessa, dropping it over her shoulders before she starts thumbing through the books set up on a table outside. Vanessa doesn’t question the pit stop, she just falls into step next to Charity wordlessly, their arms brushing as they each sift through the old spines together.
“Was that a good book or a bad book?” Vanessa asks when Charity’s hand freezes on Greek Mythologies for A Level Students, and Charity doesn’t break step as she replies.
“A bad one, babe,” she says before clearing her throat roughly and turning away from the table abruptly.
She’s already in the car by the time Vanessa slides into the passenger’s seat, and Charity’s too distracted pulling onto the road to see Vanessa push the paper bag beneath her knees. They don’t speak a word until they arrive back in the village and Vanessa reaches across the console for her.
“I’ve gotta go to work, babe,” Charity says when she unlaces Vanessa’s hands from her own, and she knows her voice is distant but it’ll be lower, closer to earth soon, once she’s shaken her the ghosts clinging to her. Once she’s stood behind her bar and gathered some power back between her hands.
“Will you meet me out the back when you close up?” Vanessa asks with hooded eyes before the leaves, and it makes Charity frown before she remembers that Vanessa doesn’t keep anything from her. She’ll find out later whatever it is, if it’s important enough a thing to know.
Her hands ache for the departed warmth of Vanessa’s after she drops Vanessa home and makes her way to the pub, her consciousness unwantedly clinging to the feel of the spine of the old book beneath her fingertips.
-
Vanessa’s waiting with one of the braziers from out the front and a small plastic container of lighter fluid when she walks out the back doors just before midnight.
“Didn’t peg you for an arsonist, babe,” Charity says with a laugh when she pushes the door wide enough so it’ll hold open, wiping her hands on the cloth in them before tossing it over her shoulder with the old habit of routine.
“Don’t be mad,” Vanessa says before handing Charity the wrapped brown package she’d failed to see smuggled into the car. “We don’t have to do anything with it,” Vanessa explains quickly, “but I thought you might… I thought it might be cathartic to do something with the bad ones. Not all of them mind, or we might end up burning half of Britain but…”
“This is for me?” Charity asks, looking from the book to that annoyingly soft expression that Vanessa reserves exclusively for her and the boys. Noah now, too.
“It’s always for you,” Vanessa replies easily, tilting her head to the side as she holds the book out to Charity.
Charity hesitates long enough to make Vanessa’s frown deepen between her brows before she sighs and puts her out of her misery, reaching forward and taking the package from Vanessa’s hand.
“Did I do the wrong thing?” Vanessa asks quietly as Charity tears the wrapping open, and Charity wishes she’d stop doubting herself sometimes, that she’d stop doubting that she always seems to know exactly what it is that Charity needs at almost any given time, because she does. Maybe she needs to tell Vanessa that more often.
“Do you know how to use that?” Charity replies instead of answering her, gesturing to the bottle in Vanessa’s hands.
“Thought you might like to do the honours,” Vanessa returns with a small smile, holding the plastic container out for Charity but Charity shakes her head.
“I’ll drop the match,” Charity says, trying to keep herself here, trying to stop her feet floating away like she trained herself to do to protect herself when she was far too young.
Vanessa nods seriously, waiting for Charity to throw the half-unwrapped package into the wrought iron fire before she drizzles a generous amount of fluid onto the front cover of the book, soaking the brown paper sufficiently. She pulls the box of matches out of her back pocket, handing them to Charity, her hand lingering when their fingers brush before moving to Charity’s side.
“Do you want me to-“ Vanessa begins but Charity cuts her off quickly.
“Stay,” Charity says firmly, and then softer, reaching for Vanessa’s hand when she takes a step back. “Stay, Ness. Please.”
The scent of phosphorus fills her nostrils when she strikes the match, the flare of light flashing in Vanessa’s eyes, highlighting the blue for a fleeting second before Charity drops the small stick without ceremony.
“Can we wait for it to burn out?” Charity asks after the fire starts, gathering momentum, eating through the soft paper quickly. Because Vanessa’s taught her the importance of seeing things through, of seeing what happens at the end. Of having a resolution in her memory instead of a weak spectre of what she hopes happened in place of the truth.
Vanessa doesn’t answer her, she just curls her arm around Charity’s lower back instead, dropping her head on to Charity’s shoulder. She can smell Vanessa’s perfume mixing with her own from her cardigan that Vanessa’s still wearing, and it makes her breath easier, the reminder of how well they fit together as she watches her past burn.
“I’d swap all my memories for yours,” Vanessa says quietly before pressing a kiss to Charity’s upper arm. “If I could.”
“I know you would, babe,” Charity returns with a wry smile, squeezing Vanessa tight against her side. “And I’d not let you have a single one.”
“We’ll get him,” Vanessa breathes much later, when the book is ash and the last embers are holding desperately onto their heat with the incoming cold of night.
She doesn’t know how to tell Vanessa that they might not. That he’s managed to get his way out of things just like this before. She doesn’t want to break that hope, not before the truth and the harsh light of day breaks it for them.
She’ll stay here instead, and close her eyes as Vanessa’s body warms hers, reminds her that she’s good, that she deserves this happiness she’s found in the strangest of places, as the girls that were young and old and rich and poor in the book Charity can almost remember every single line of, finally get their justice in the fire in front of them.
This is long, sorry team, but I’m way too lazy to post to ao3 tonight. Happy reading x
-
“I’m sorry, Ness,” Charity says when Vanessa opens the door to Tug Ghyll but she doesn’t walk in right away, she holds back like she half-expects the house to turf her back out on the path if she so much as takes a step inside.
“Are you coming?” Vanessa snaps instead of acknowledging the apology, and she knows it’s harsh but she’s angry and she’s tired and she’s sad, because her dad’s a right arsehole sometimes, but he’s still her dad, and he’s gone, all because Charity couldn’t handle things like an adult.
She knows that’s not completely true, that it’s Megan and Graham’s fault too, but Charity had more than enough control of the situation to handle it in a completely different, un-Charity Dingle way, but she hadn’t. She’d thrashed about like she normally does, breaking things around her without a care or second thought.
And Vanessa’s tired, if she’s honest. She’s tired of trying to anticipate Charity’s moves in advance in the event that she needs to interrupt them, or try to apologise ahead of time. She loves Charity, she knows that she does even if she hasn’t said it yet, and she’s resilient, but she’s not sure she’s equipped to spend the rest of her life running around with a brush and shovel, sweeping up the shattered remains of things in Charity’s wake.
The problem is, she doesn’t want to ask Charity to change - not only because she won’t be like everyone else who’s ever wanted to sculpt Charity to their own needs - but because she needs Charity to make that call, to make that shift, herself.
Vanessa knows that Charity’s capable of change because she’s seen leagues of it in the last six months, but she’s just not sure where the limit of it is.
“I don’t have to, if you don’t want me to,” Charity says sounding particularly crestfallen, and Vanessa realises it probably has something to do with the fact that she hasn’t spoken in a minute or so, has been staring over Charity’s shoulder to the darkened road outside, instead.
“What else am I gonna do?” Vanessa says with a shrug after another pause, sighing heavily and beckoning Charity in, closing the door behind her when she finally steps through, heading straight for the kitchen to put the kettle on. “Sit here and be miserable all alone about my dad leaving?”
“I didn’t think that would happen, babe,” Charity says with a wince as she hangs back, her hands clutching the back of the couch rather than moving further into the house.
“What did you think was going to happen?” Vanessa replies with a barked laugh of bewilderment, and sometimes she wants so desperately to get into Charity’s head, to understand why she does anything she does because sometimes things don’t make a goddamn lick of sense. “The things we do have consequences, Charity. It’s like you don’t ever think about them. Or don’t care, which is even worse.”
“I’ve said I’m sorry, Ness,” Charity says with a massive sigh of her own, throwing her hands at her sides. “And I mean it, don’t I? But if that’s not enough then I don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t know what to do either,” Vanessa shrugs, leaning back against the bench, and it’s impossible to miss the pain written clear on Charity’s face when she does. She’s worried, Vanessa thinks - no, more than that - she’s scared.
She twists her hands together, scuffing the toe of her boot into the carpet before she looks up to Vanessa. “Look, I hate to leave you alone, but maybe I should. Because the sight of me just seems to make you madder.”
“Do you want to go?” Vanessa asks, frowning and there’s a pricking at the base of her spine that feels bad, that feels like they’re teetering on the wrong edge of the cliff, here.
“Course I don’t, babe,” Charity says and she means it, Vanessa can see that she does. “I want to stay here and poke you in the side until you forgive me and wipe that frown off your face.”
Charity looks at her with a little half-smile for an affirmation or dismissal or anything, and Vanessa knows she should say something but there’s nothing in the tank. Nothing at all. She’s tired, god, she’s tired, and the memory of the warmth of her bed last night - and Charity wrapped around her waist - suddenly feels like it was years ago.
It’s a look of pure panic that flashes across Charity’s face first, and then pain, before she grimaces, dropping her eyes to the floor and turning her body towards the door. It’s not what Vanessa wants - for Charity to leave - not at all, she wants Charity to fight for her like she said she would yesterday with the sunlight in her hair, she wants Charity to plant her feet and stay without Vanessa asking her to.
But maybe it’s asking too much. Maybe it’s not something Charity has in her anymore after a lifetime of being dismissed and cut down again and again and again. Maybe it’s just another part of her broken self-preservation that Vanessa will never be able to help her fix or mend.
Vanessa can feel the tears pricking the corner of her eyes and her throat thickening as she watches Charity make her way out of the room. She knows what she wants Charity to do but she knows too without a shadow of a doubt that if she walks from the house they’ll crack the foundation of this living, breathing thing between them, maybe beyond repair. She can’t let Charity go without a fight - even if it’s of her own making.
“No,” Vanessa says when Charity’s hand is on the door handle, but Charity speaks at exactly the same time, the same word, turning to Vanessa with heavy green eyes.
They search Vanessa’s face for confirmation given to her in a small, delicate smile before she takes a few strides, meeting Vanessa in the middle of the room, reaching her hand out, tugging Vanessa into her arms.
“I don’t want to go, Ness,” Charity mumbles into Vanessa’s hair, her breath warm against Vanessa’s scalp as her arms wrap tightly around her shoulders. “Unless you really want me gone. You can yell and scream and do whatever, but please don’t send me away.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Vanessa says, sniffing against Charity’s chest, closing her eyes and drinking in the scent of her perfume, and it’s more of a relief than she can put into words, because it was so small - Charity’s fight - but it was there in the end. She wants to stay. “I don’t want you to go either. I’m just upset.”
“I know, babe. And I feel bloody awful, don’t I?” Charity says, nuzzling the top of her head in the way she does when she’s trying to savour a moment after a spat.
“You do?” Vanessa asks, not raising her cheek from Charity’s chest just yet, relishing the firmness of Charity’s hold across her shoulders instead. Because Charity can block the whole world out when she wants to, when she wants to reduce this plane of existence to the two of them, and no one else.
“Course I do,” Charity says pressing a kiss to her forehead, pulling back so she can look Vanessa in the eye, sighing when she catches the tear rolling down Vanessa’s cheek with her thumb. “I hate seeing you upset. Like watching a kicked puppy, isn’t it.”
“That had better not be your way of calling me a bitc-“ Vanessa says wryly but Charity tips her chin up, interrupting her, kissing her quiet instead, her lips like velvet, like sweet summer against Vanessa’s own.
“It’s not,” Charity says seriously before the edge of her mouth tips in a smile. “Although I missed a trick, didn’t I, because that’s a good one.”
Vanessa sighs and tries to pull her arms free but Charity isn’t having it, locking her own around Vanessa to keep her in place. “I am sorry, babe,” Charity says again, her voice genuine once more. “You know that, yeah? I really don’t want to…”
“You’re not going to lose me, you daft thing,” Vanessa says, looking up to Charity, cupping her cheek with her palm. “Just think next time, please? Because it’s hard sometimes, you know.”
“I know, Ness,” Charity replies with a grimace, her hands running up and down Vanessa’s back slowly, soothing away the hurt, the frustration. “I know it drives you nuts, old habits just die hard, yeah? But I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” Vanessa says softly, pressing her lips to Charity’s again, because she does, because she can see it in the way it pains Charity now, she’s trying, she’s trying, and that’s really all Vanessa can ask of her.
“It’s much easier to be heartless, you know,” Charity grumbles when Vanessa’s hands draw shapes on her lower back, and she leans away to watch Charity’s expression. “To not give a toss about hurting other people.”
Vanessa could do this for hours, watching the depth flicker behind her eyes, evidence of a bottomless spectrum of emotion that she hides so well from everyone else, but shows Vanessa so openly now.
“Easier, but not quite as rewarding,” Vanessa says slowly, hazarding a quick glance to Charity to see whether she’ll take the bait, because the hurt is easing with Charity’s proximity, with her genuine regret, and Vanessa’s mind is wandering.
“Hmmm?” Charity grunts by way of a question but her eyes glitter like she knows exactly what Vanessa’s talking about. “What do you mean then, babe?”
“I mean, I forgive you but there’s a way to expedite the process if you’re interested?” Vanessa says smoothly and she feels Charity’s body change against hers, become liquid, become soft.
“What’s that then, eh?” Charity asks, but her hands are already moving for the bottom of Vanessa’s shirt as she walks them towards the foot of the stairs.
“You’re a clever thing,” Vanessa replies, tugging Charity’s top free from her trousers, smirking when her cool hands on Charity’s stomach make her jump. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
Charity gives her a look that makes her whole body feel like it’s made of something far less substantial than the muscle and bone that it is before she bends her knees, picking Vanessa up bodily, wrapping Vanessa’s legs around her waist and carrying her up the stairs.
She drops Vanessa back on her feet at the landing, only slightly out of breath, kissing Vanessa hard before she has a chance to catch it. Her hands curl around Vanessa’s hips and her tongue moves against Vanessa’s before she pushes back with a step, and then another, steering them back in the direction of the bed.
“Might have to try a few things, mightn’t I?” Charity says when she gets to the buttons over Vanessa’s breasts, abandoning her task in favour of palming them both roughly, smirking when Vanessa groans.
“It’s probably for the best,” Vanessa replies breathlessly when Charity shoves her shirt off her shoulders, and her hands descend to Vanessa’s trousers too.
They pool at Vanessa’s ankles when Charity pushes them over her hips before she places both hands on either side of Vanessa’s shoulders, giving her a light shove, laughing when she falls back to the bed with a gasp. Vanessa watches with a completely dumbstruck expression in turn as Charity undresses herself, shirt off and then her own trousers before she leans onto the bed and starts crawling up Vanessa’s body where she lays waiting.
“On a scale of one to ten, how grumpy are you with me?” Charity asks, kissing her way up Vanessa’s stomach. “Just so I know what I’m dealing with here.”
“Ten,” Vanessa stammers as Charity’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of her underwear and begin dragging them down her legs. She’s not, not anymore and Charity knows that too although she doesn’t seem to mind playing the game one bit.
“Well, I’d best get to work then, hadn’t I?” Charity mumbles against the skin of Vanessa’s inner thigh as she hooks one of Vanessa’s legs over her shoulder. “Sounds like I’ve got it cut out for me. Be a good girl, Ness. Lie back and close your eyes. We’ll have you back at a one in no time.”
In the background of my other writing, I’ve gone and lost my mind and written a completely crazy vanity au where Charity is Hades and Vanessa is Persephone ...
I know, it sounds mad and ridiculous because in what world are these characters at all transferrable to a world like that, but bear with me, alright? I was writing this and then the magic that is @vanityfest appeared in our lives and I thought, perfect! I’ll save this and share it as part of the AU day.
To jump on board @thegirl20‘s marvellous sneak-peek idea with some of her bloody fantastic ideas (do yourself a favour and read them if you haven’t already), here’s my own little sneak peek from the very beginning.
-
“It’s not so bad down here, you know,” Charity says with a sigh, drumming her fingers, long nails painted blood red, over the armrests of the black throne that rises at her back.
She’s gorgeous, this Hades, Vanessa thinks. They call her Charity too, but that’s her true name, after all.
Vanessa has heard whispers, of her terror, of her beauty, but they pale in comparison to the creature seated in front of her. Charity’s gaze - hard but curious - follows Vanessa as she takes in her surroundings, and the queen in front of her. Charity’s hair is long and blonde, piled above her head, exposing the creamy line of her throat, down to the plunging neckline of her dress, full-length and long sleeved, blacker than the marble around them.
The two massive Dobermans stand as Vanessa takes step after cautious step further into the throne room. She wonders why it was even built, this room, it’s not exactly like the queen of the underworld needs to hold court.
“You’ll get used to the darkness after a while,” Charity offers casually, catching the way Vanessa squints when she looks around, raising her hand to inspect her nails. “You might even learn to hate the light after a time, like I do.”
“It’s really just you here?” Vanessa asks, her head swinging wide as she takes in the enormous room, lined completely with black marble, shot through with white streaks. “No one else?”
“No one else,” Charity confirms, and her voice rings cold through the room, bouncing off the gleaming stone. “You’re calm, love. Why? Don’t you hate me? For tricking you into coming here with me?”
“Is there any use in it?” Vanessa asks cynically, and Charity barks a laugh in response. “Will it change anything, my anger?”
“No, Vanessa,” Charity replies, shaking her head, and she sounds almost amused. “I suppose not. Why didn’t you run? You’re not a fool, are you? I know you’ve been suspicious of your father’s plan for a while. You could have escaped. You could have been in a different place entirely when I came. You knew of my arrival, didn’t you?”
“Maybe I didn’t want to?” Vanessa throws over her shoulder as she walks to run her palm down one of the walls. It’s warm under her touch, as she suspected. Not cold, like the tales suggest. “Run, that is. Escape.”
“And why on earth, wouldn’t you want to run?” Charity asks, cocking her head. “You’d rather be trapped down here instead, with me?”
“Trapped?” Vanessa clarifies, raising an eyebrow when she spins to face Charity again. “Did any part of you taking me away look unwilling to you? Did I cry? Did I scream? Did I run?”
