Drabble A Day - Beginning

Starting over is different than trying again. This is a truth that hits Rhiann in the middle of dicing garlic, the sauce on the stove simmering happily without her awareness needed. Somewhere to her left, Anann’s bent over, peering into the depths of the fridge for the lamb they tucked away the night before. The goddess hums a ditty heard on the radio that morning and sways along with the melody occupying her attention. Beyond the kitchen, Rhiann hears the quiet gossip of one of her other aspects and Vana, and further past that, Ann and Rhia plotting yet another one of their insane hijinks which would probably cause a conniption fit to fly about the household once discovered. If she strains her senses, she can hear Wuyi teaching one of the girls how to do some balancing game.

Anann keys into either the slowing of Rhiann’s movements with the knife, or she catches the surface of Rhiann’s wandering thoughts because her humming pauses in favor of her reclining back to catch Rhiann’s gaze. The question is in the arch of her brow and the soft purse of her lips. Rhiann’s returned smile is free of worry or stress and it sets Anann to ease. Within seconds she’s back in the fridge and out once more, the prized cuts of lamb within her grasp. She flashes a victorious smile Rhiann’s way and saunters over for a spoil of war, a kiss freely given before she turns and sets the meat on the counter. They fall into a comfortable rhythm, perfectly partnering the other until all that’s left is time to let the meat cook, the sauce simmer, and the drinks to cool in the fridge.

It’s a quiet moment different from the times before Elysium because when Anann’s abyssal gaze rises to meet hers, there’s not the layer of distance that used to be there. There’s still that burning desire that thrums in response to Anann’s secretive smirk, but underneath it is a core of affection that manages to steal Rhiann’s breath away whenever she least expects it. That wasn’t there before. Not as strong. Not as visible for her to take notice of and have it affect her so much. She still feels the same stir of interest when Anann, no longer distracted by a ritual of preparing a meal, stalks towards her with an intent obvious to even a blind man; she chuckles and does the same meld of her body against Anann’s, and tilts her head the exact way they’ve perfected in the slow, lingering kisses that are a teaser for later activities. Everything they once were and still are is still there; it’s just the intent is new. It’s not a rehash of the old, but a determination to start over from the beginning; a unspoken decision made up of ten years distance and seven years separation that what between them now was a new journey; made together.