Wrapped in her scarlet bathrobe, Amelia walked toward the bed, carrying a heavy leather bag that beat against the side of her thigh.
Luna’s back wavered beneath the sea-green blanket. Second thoughts, perhaps. It was Luna’s right if she wanted to back down. But things had gotten so far this time the disillusion of it would still ache.
Amelia stepped over to the edge of the bed, laid her bag gently on the carpeted floor, and placed a hand like a feather on Luna’s shoulder.
“It’s not too late,” Amelia said.
Luna looked up at her with those hazel eyes that stole a piece of her soul with every glance. “No, it’s not that. I want this, seriously. It’s just… I can hardly believe it, you know? It’s like something’s gonna go wrong any moment, not with you, but just something else that’ll make it imperfect.”
Amelia dragged her fingers through the still-wet roots of Luna’s dark hair, behind her ear. “It’s the one chance alone for us, no more. It’s only natural you would feel that way. I can understand if you’d rather wait.”
Luna pressed her tilted head against Amelia’s hand. “I really don’t.”
Amelia’s lips curved into a wistful smile as she neared her lover, damp curtains of her fire-red hair enveloping them. Their mouths met with a wet click. Their tongues struggled with delicate effort, pushing against each other’s in a fight with no losers.
Parting from the kiss, Amelia said, “Will you be mine forever?”
Luna nodded within a heartbeat. Their mouths met once more. Luna’s arms abandoned the warmth of the blanket and settled on Amelia’s body as the latter’s hands traveled from the rugged skin of Luna’s scarred wrists and forearms to the softness of her breasts, through the unevenness of her protruding ribs, to come and rest at the hardened flesh of her raised womb.
“You’re so beautiful it hurts,” Amelia said, face pressed to Luna’s neck, breathing deeply.
Luna’s chest tightened with her heavy breath. “I want you to do it,” she said, toying with a tuft of curling red hair. Their gazes met once more. It used to be so difficult, looking people in the eye. With Amelia it was a gnawing mélange of soothe and exhilaration, born of a wish that they could melt into each other through their eyes alone, leaving all else to rot and decay without a care to pass them by.
Amelia rose from the bed, crouched beside the leather bag, and reached in. Its contents sang a metallic melody as she pulled something out—two pairs of leather cuffs, held together by heavy chains.
“This’ll help us,” she said, returning to Luna.
Their hands moved in unison toward the headrest without so much as touching. Bless her heart, thought Amelia, tying the cuffs around those knobby wrists.
Releasing the sash, letting her robe slip down her arms, Amelia reached into the bag once more. This time, she pulled out a boning knife.
She moved across the bed, straddling lovely Luna, whose eyes carried the delicate coldness of porcelain effigies. The enormity of it all finally sank in. “There is still time if you—”
“Please, take me,” Luna said, growing breathless, her belly raised up. “Please, take it out.”
Amelia smiled. She wanted to kiss Luna again, so badly. But it would just make their purpose more difficult. She crawled down Luna’s body, stared at the broad, tight belly for a long time before pressing the freshly sharpened blade against it, right under the belly button. Pale beads of yellow fat peered through the wound before a tongue of blood leaked out and ran down Luna’s pubic hair.
Luna spasmed. Her voice became possessed with the pain. Amelia repeated, just higher than a whisper, that all was going to be fine. It would be quick, she said. It would be quick. The knife glided through the skin with ease, but Luna writhed and Amelia didn’t want to hurt her any more than she needed to, so she was slow.
The sharp sting of blood permeated the room. Luna’s screams rang outside for nothing but a vast expanse of black willows to hear.
“It’s okay, my baby,” Amelia said. “This will pass soon.”
The blood began to run down Luna’s hips and pool over the black silk sheets.
Amelia had just grown hopelessly tired of this torture when she finished the cut, large enough to reach in. “I will be quick, my dear, I promise.” Luna had stopped screaming. Her eyes stuck to the ceiling, even as Amelia lifted the folds of ripped skin and her fingers explored the red, violet, and pink cavern of her insides, searching for a cloudy sac the size of a small fruit.
“I see it,” Amelia said. “I can see it now, Luna.”
Grabbing the bloodied knife from beside her leg (not noticing the small cut she had made on her own knee), she reached in and pierced the rubbery layer without effort. A colorless fluid gathered across the cavity, rivers of blood intermixing with it. From within she brought up the undeveloped form that wasn’t quite a human being. She lifted the embryo high, the light cutting through its translucent figure. This sticky, fleshy mass seemed unreal, a myth people related all the time which you were never meant to see. But that was the extent of her fascination.
All she’d ever loved beyond a fleeting passion was Luna. The fact that this being, incapable of a half-formed thought, would have been such a torture on Luna made Amelia sick. With no reverence, she drew the knife across the fleshy cords that attached it to Luna’s open belly and threw it violently out the bedroom door, onto the landing.
“You’re free now, Luna,” Amelia said.
Luna shivered. Her eyes were distant and cloudy, her breath harsh. Amelia could hardly bear to see her that way. She drew the blanket from across the bed, covered Luna’s wounded torso with it, and embraced her, telling her it would all be okay now. “You’re free now, Luna.” She laid a hand on Luna’s chest, caressing her, hoping it would make this easier. “My love, we did it, can you believe it? You’re free and we’ll now be together till death.”
Amelia kissed her face, tasting saltiness. Another kiss, closer to her eyes and then her brow. Another on the shivering lips, that one lasting, stretching for a long time, until Luna’s mouth ceased to follow the rhythm of her own.
Amelia waited alone. There was no all-consuming warmth rising from Luna’s chest. Where was she? Had Luna abandoned her? No, she wouldn’t, not Luna. Not her beautiful, beautiful Luna, with whom she’d spent nights over to sunrise talking of their immortal unity. They had promised themselves to each other. No matter what, they would be together. Nothing, no wheel of fate would ever be too great an obstacle for them.
Did she hurt Luna too much? Had it been so horrible an experience that the pain had broken a promise so burningly strong? She didn’t know. And, at that, she feared the answer.
Her arms tangled around the still warm body, her eyes growing heavy, her throat swollen with smothered sobs. She faded into the dark ponds of sleep.
So heavy was her much-needed rest that Amelia didn’t hear the drunken man out in the rain, banging at the door, didn’t hear him walk in once he’d found the key hidden behind their pot of sunflowers.
“I was an asshole, I know. I shouldn’t have done that to you, but… MY GOD, you gotta let me talk to you, Luna. We need to talk about our baby.”
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