***
I woke up in the arms of my saviour.
Today she is spooning me, I turned around in her arms, pulled her into my chest and felt her happily nuzzle in.
It is not often I wake before her so I allow myself the indulgence of stroking her long black hair.
Tangerine as always, remains an enigma to me.
She is, as far as I can tell, utterly fearless. On the very first night that I met her, she confronted the spirit that terrorized me. Shot it, and when that didn't work - walked up to it without a moment of hesitation, stuck her hand inside and destroyed it.
I still don't understand how that works. The spirits feed off my mana. Both I and exorcists have tried pushing more mana than they can handle. It has never worked before, if anything it made the spirits stronger.
But the ghosts are not the end of my saviour's exploits. She willingly stood against Bronson in the duelling arena. A man that stood over a foot taller than her. Faced him down, just the same as the spirits - like she had nothing to worry about. Then dispatched him with brutal efficiency.
Lillian will not stop telling the tale about how she faced down both assassins and Queens one day after the next. Tangerine herself has never told me about the events that happened mere days before we met. I honestly think it's because she's already forgotten. That an attempt on her life bears no more consideration than what she's going to eat for breakfast.
She took a bomb, from a goblin, with her bare hands.
She is fearless, somehow always prepared and has the ability to make friends with anyone.
She has so much drive to her.
Yet, she doesn't seem to know where she is going.
Because there is the other side of her, the one that barely knows what day of the week it is. The one that can't pay attention in class, unless it's runes. The one that becomes so adorably flustered from nothing more than a look.
This is what's so frustrating about Tangerine. Because for all the fact that her emotions are written across her face, it is almost impossible to understand what she's thinking. Or even what she wants. She is inscrutable.
I think it's pretty clear that she has some interest in me. Certainly of a sexual nature, possibly more? As much as I was grateful, the confession of her orientation was unneeded. I think it might be possible that she is more interested in me than most. But it is hard to tell, because seemingly any attention from a woman will turn Tangerine into a blushing mess.
Certainly a fact in which that… scarlet women, Daisy takes great delight in.
But am I any better, If we were not forced to share a bed would she have any interest in me? Would we even talk? Or would I be cast to the sidelines like Rupert. Forever watching but never engaging.
Tangerine for what I can tell has no interest in men at all. Which is more of a relief than I would like to admit. Because I should pray for her. That she could gain an interest in the opposite sex and be blessed with a child. My faith enlightens us to the fact that to have and raise children is the purpose of all people. To build and multiply and worship in the name of the Lord of Light.
Yet I cannot bring myself to pray for Tangerine.
Because I do not want her to change.
Her obvious attraction to the fairer sex has me questioning my own desires. Which is a new consideration for me. Being a nun of the Shining Mother, I know more about procreation and childbirth than most. Along with all the blessings and ills that can come from the union. But that is merely the mechanics of the act, the other side, concerning attraction and desire. I remain unfortunately ignorant. These were not topics of education for nuns. We engaged in the rites with a sense of duty and nothing more.
But there was more to my ignorance than a lack of education. I was just never interested. Or more to the point, until recently, I was too tired and haunted to be interested. I was mostly too tired to care about anything.
I of course saw the emotions happen around me. I was a nun that didn't speak much. I certainly didn't go running to Mother Superior anytime I saw an act of impropriety. Which to other nuns, meant I could be trusted. Even if my trust came from nothing other than an inability to care. My sisters who had become overly familiar with each other, would not bother hiding that fact in front of me. Even some sisters who had taken a fancy to a priest would detail the exploits of their whirlwind romance.
But I never really understood it. I could not match the feelings. Why would they risk their livelihoods for nothing more than infatuation? What would drive them?
I didn't pay it much thought. At that time what little energy I had would be spent on my duties, or managing my curse.
But lately that has changed. I have had eleven full nights of sleep, which has done wonders in making me feel human again. But along with that it has brought so many unanswerable questions.
At first I clung to Tangerine out of blessed relief and hope. Then later out of fear that she would leave. But these past few days, that fear has waned. I do not believe she would pull away anymore. Yet I cling to her anyway.
My saviour has woken up, nestled in my bosom. She is pretending not to be awake again, but I can tell because her ears have started to turn pink. I continue to stroke her hair and hum that little tune - the one that I know makes her heart beat faster.
I never understood attraction, but it turns out that I am not incapable of it.
That was proven to me yesterday.
With sleep and Tangerine's overt interest, I had of course considered what I might desire, or if I had any desires at all. The answer at first, was no. Our class was full of attractive people. Men and women alike. The men surprisingly held no interest for me at all. While that fact makes me irregular, it is not a concern. From my understanding of my sisters, many have little to no attraction to the opposite sex, and that did not get in the way of their duties. I believe many of them became nuns for this very reason.
The women on the other hand. Well that has proven to be a little more complicated. Unlike Tangerine, my heart does not flutter for every damsel that batters her eyelids in my direction. I have no attraction to Lillian or Daisy, both of which - in their own way - are incredibly beautiful people.
But Tangerine, I could not look away from, I still can't bear to be apart from. At first I thought my budding attraction was nothing more than an infatuation for the person that saved me. That my feelings weren't honest, not really for her, that I would feel the same way about any person that had helped me with my curse. Even if it was Rupert, or… Bronson. No, I think I would rather the ghosts, than sleep in the same bed as Bronson.
It was Ria that dissuaded me of that notion. It turns out that I have a type.
Yesterday when we helped Ria with waxing her scales and then carrying her to the bath - the way she squirmed and blushed. I just wanted to hold her tight and make her feel okay. To tilt her head back, and to…
I still feel some guilt - for having that train of thought.
It was my thoughts about the way that Ria moved through the water yet was too shy to look anybody in the face, that distracted me from noticing when Tangerine left my side. It also distracted me from the fact that Daisy followed.
I heard the noise.
Lillian, Shiv and Ria were too busy messing about so they didn't catch it. But I did. I knew what it was, although I didn't want to believe it.
I made my excuses to the others and quickly left to track down Tangerine.
I found her in the alcove, with Daisy leaning over her. An obvious red mark, staining Tangerine's shapely backside.
I became enraged like I never had before.
This wanton woman smirked at me like she had done nothing but steal a small treat. Her hand cupped under Tangerine's chin like she was a toy, to be played with and thrown away.
And Tangerine - the girl that faced down assassins and Queens - is acting like a blushing virgin, a doe before the rutting stag. Arching her back and presenting her chest. Looking at Daisy with those big watery eyes that just makes you want to take hold of her and…
I should have turned around and left. I had no right to interfere with, WHATEVER, was going on here. Tangerine was not mine, nor could she be mine. I am a nun, I have duties. I have no right or ability to stake a claim over her. Nor should I, I can't even stay, I am promised to bear a child for another.
But my anger will not let me take one step back.
Before I know it I'm grabbing Tangerine's hand and pulling her away from that vile temptress. Vowing that I would always place myself between the two of them. To save Tangerine from her wicked lechery.
When we got back to the room, our room. Tangerine sat down at her desk. Her expression, complicated and unreadable. I could not tell if she was angry at me from pulling her away from a woman she clearly desired, or thankful for saving her.
I put a glass of water in front of her. She had been in the hot bath for a long time, and she probably needed a drink. She was certainly prone to getting a red face, and would often forget to take care of herself. I might have been a little emotional when placing it down on the desk.
I sat down on the bed and the guilt washed over me. I probably did get in the way, she probably thought I ruined her chances with Daisy. While I am not allowed to indulge in desires - she has no such restrictions put upon her.
She probably wants to be back there, she might want to go and talk to Daisy now. She's clearly not reading that book; she has been staring at the same page for five minutes.
The glass of water remained untouched. She has probably forgotten again. I went over to remind her, but she still wasn't looking at me. She's probably thinking of a way to ask me if she could leave to go see Daisy, maybe apologize on my behalf.
And that thought brought back all the anger, I threaded my fingers into her hair and pulled her head back. To make her look at me. Not Daisy. Me.
To make her look at me - the way she looked at Daisy.
I take the glass, and press it to her lips.
"Open." I said, I don't know what I'm doing, but she just looked up at me with those big blue eyes that made me want to…
I pour a little bit of water into her open, waiting mouth. Some droplets running down her perfect full lips.
"Swallow." I said, and she did. Like she would do anything for me.
"Open."
"Swallow."
"Open."
"Swallow."
We repeat the motions until the glass is empty. She never looked away from me, I never looked away from her.
Transfixed.
The forced drinking is having an effect on her that I don't really understand. But I want to see more of it. She is squirming on the chair, her thighs rubbing together like she is uncomfortable. Yet she looks at me with such, such…
Need
- in her eyes, I don't want to stop, but the glass is empty. She opens her mouth again, as if she wanted more. Expecting it. But I have nothing to give her.
I let go of her hair, I've made a mistake. I want to say sorry, or thank you, or something.
But it comes out wrong.
"Good."
"Girl."
To my shock her thighs clamp together, her eyes roll back and she let out a moan that vibrated through my core. She collapsed forward onto the desk, panting. I do not understand what is wrong with her, but she is not giving me the impression that she is in pain.
Quite the opposite.
It only takes a moment for her to return to her senses. She shifted her head to look at me. Her face is red and… messy. She looked at me with those big watery eyes, like I'm her everything. And my heart thumps.
I may have felt a twinge of attraction to Ria when she looked so very cute and nervous. But Tangerine, wearing a messy face like this. I just want to eat her. There is a droplet of water that had run down her neck, sitting at the base where her neck meets her shoulder. From deep within I have a desire to put my mouth over that droplet - and bite down.
Then the guilt came back. I couldn't be thinking like this. I have duties. Children that need my help. I could not lose myself to desire. The anger caused me to hurt her, to pull her neck back to make her look at me, and then the desire encouraged me to continue.
I'm awful.
I'm vile.
I am no better than Daisy.
I buried myself in the covers. But she followed. My Tangerine. My savoir. Never one to even consider abandoning her duties.
Not like me.
Even now after I have hurt her, she still came to hold me, to save me from my curse. To tell me sweet lies. To make me feel better about my impropriety. I let her. I let her hold me, and soothe me.
The feeling of Tangerine gently moving her head in my chest brought me back to the here and now. My silly little saviour was still pretending to be asleep. The feeling of her face slowly moving against me brought about a new sensation, from deep within. One that I did not truly understand.
My guilt and this new feeling - war in my chest.
The new feeling won, and I wrapped my arms around her head and pulled her in tight. I was rewarded with a squeal, then a red faced Tangerine emerged from my grasp.
"W-we should, like, get ready for class or something." She said, her eyes looking everywhere but at me.
"Of course." I said, and we did.
***
I woke up in the bosom of my angel, really nuzzled in there. Not gonna lie, I was stun-locked for the rest of the day.
I think we had sorcery class or some shit, I don't know. Sophia kept looking at me with that complicated expression that I don't understand. Which didn't help my mental.
Lillian still made me work out though, so like, fuck Truday.
***
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I wasn't planning on doing a Sophia chapter this soon, but then the ideas just started flowing, lol. Hey you, fine reader. Could you possibly rate, review and/or comment. If it isn't too much to ask. Thanks!