Chapter 28
What Remains
Theo
Light drifted through the blinds in thin bars, easing the room into the kind of Sunday morning with no real agenda. Theo had been lying here for a while, long enough to have watched the light move incrementally across the wall, and she hadn’t wanted to move.
Catherine was asleep against her side, one hand resting open on Theo's stomach, her breathing slow and even, her hair falling across the pillow in a way the night had rearranged for her.
Theo's fingers traced idle patterns against Catherine's bare back, feeling smooth skin and the small architecture of her spine, and something in her chest felt at ease.
Beneath her hand, Catherine stirred, the slow, reluctant shift of someone who knew they were waking up and wasn't quite ready to let go of sleep yet.
Theo felt the moment it took hold, the slight tension that moved through Catherine's body before she registered where she was, and then the release of it, the conscious choice to relax, which Theo had come to understand was something Catherine had to make deliberately in a way that most people didn't.
When she looked up, her eyes were still soft with sleep, blue and unfocused, the careful composure she wore during the day nowhere in sight. Theo had only seen this Catherine a handful of times, the one who appeared before she had time to arrange herself for the day.
“Morning,” Catherine mumbled against her shoulder.
The word came out low and rough with sleep, and Theo felt a small, helpless smile pull at her mouth. It was unfair, really. Her first, completely unfiltered thought was that Catherine was cute.
She reconsidered that immediately and decided it was probably best that observation never be shared with Catherine Matthews, who would almost certainly respond to being called cute with swift and decisive retaliation.
“Morning,” Theo said back, shifting against the pillows so she could see her better.
Catherine blinked slowly. "Have you been awake long?"
"Not really, just watching you sleep."
Catherine's fingertips drifted from Theo's stomach to her sternum, pausing at the hollow of her throat where Theo's pulse jumped beneath the touch.
"Staring at an unconscious woman? How very serial killer of you," Catherine said, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward.
Theo couldn't contain her grin. "You're still here, aren't you?"
The sight of Catherine's answering smile, not her usual careful one, but something beaming and real, made Theo want to burrow in and hold her tighter.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Theo said.
Catherine turned her head to look at her. "Wonderful." She said. "And you?"
"Wonderful," Theo said. "Really wonderful."
They looked at each other in the morning light, and there was something between them that didn’t require words. Theo let it sit for a second before something else pushed in around the edges.
“Are you really okay?” she asked.
Catherine shifted up onto her elbow, looking down at Theo. “I can see the gears turning in your head. You can relax. Last night isn’t something I’ll be needing to recover from.”
Theo opened her mouth to respond, but Catherine got there first.
"I went up on that stage because I wanted to," Catherine said. "Not because I felt pressured, not because I felt I owed it to you or to the evening. I wanted to play, and I wanted it to be for you, and it was." She paused. "So you can stop carrying that."
Theo exhaled. She hadn’t quite realized she’d been holding it all morning, lying there watching the light move slowly across the room while Catherine slept against her, waiting for the moment she could be sure Catherine was actually okay with what had happened.
Now that Catherine had said it out loud, Theo could feel exactly where the tension had been sitting, tight across her shoulders. That quiet sense of a debt she hadn’t yet figured out how to repay.
"Okay," Theo said.
"Okay?" Catherine looked at her. "Just like that?"
"You told me to put it down. I'm putting it down. I trust you."
Something moved across Catherine's face, quiet and warm. "That's new for me," she said. "Someone saying that and me actually believing them."
"It's new for me too," Theo said. "Saying it and meaning it."
Theo reached up and tucked a strand of Catherine's hair back from her face, a gesture so small and so natural that she'd done it before she registered doing it. Catherine's eyes closed briefly at the touch and then opened again, still on Theo's face.
"I love you," Theo whispered into the space between them.
It wasn’t a response to anything, and it wasn’t building toward anything either.
The balcony had been a declaration, a release, the culmination of everything the night had been building toward.
This was quieter, smaller, and in some ways it felt like more, because there was no music now, no occasion, just the two of them and the morning light coming through the blinds.
“I know,” Catherine said. Then, more quietly, “I love you too.”
Theo kissed her before the words had quite finished settling between them. At first, it was soft, like she was still absorbing what Catherine had said.
Then, Catherine’s hand slid up into Theo’s hair, drawing her closer.
Theo’s lips moved against Catherine’s as their mouths parted, the kiss deepening, tongues gliding together as their breath mingled. They drew closer by instinct, bodies fitting together until they were pressed tight in a shared ache.
When they finally pulled back, Theo’s eyes met Catherine’s.
One of her hands drifted down Catherine’s side, fingertips tracing the gentle curve of her waist before sliding over the swell of her hip.
She shifted, coaxing Catherine’s thigh to part and nestle between her own legs, the slick heat between them pulsing where they pressed together.
Theo's teeth grazed Catherine's collarbone, drawing a sharp intake of breath from both of them.
"I've thought about this," she murmured, her voice dropping to a register that vibrated against Catherine's skin.
"Lying awake at night, my hand between my legs, remembering how you tasted that weekend.
" She dragged her tongue along the hollow of Catherine's throat. "How you trembled when I touched you."
Catherine, usually composed, arched into her, her back bowing as a moan caught between her lips.
"Show me. Show me everything you thought about," she whispered, rolling her hips to gather friction along Theo's firm thigh.
A shiver coursed through her as Theo answered with a deep, throaty groan, grinding upward in perfect sync.
They began slowly, their mouths brushing in teasing flicks of tongue, hands roaming over heated skin, sliding along shoulders, tracing the dip of spines, exploring every quiver and curve.
Theo leaned down, her breath warm against Catherine's skin as she captured one of her nipples between her lips and tongue. She circled the sensitive bud in slow, teasing spirals, then bit gently, eliciting a sharp, breathless gasp that rolled from Catherine's throat like a cry.
"Before the blackout, I used to lie awake listening to you play," Theo murmured against her skin, voice ragged, "and wonder if you'd sound like this." She lifted her head just enough to meet Catherine's eyes. "You're better."
Every soft nibble, every languid swirl of her tongue only drove Catherine further, and soon their hips were grinding together in a rhythm that needed no instruction.
Catherine dug her fingers into the small of Theo's back, anchoring her as they moved together, slow, desperate, urgent.
“There,” Catherine breathed, voice quiet yet fierce, pressing Theo closer. “Right there, Theodora. Please. Please.”
"I've got you," Theo said, low and certain. "I've got you. Come with me."
Catherine’s body shuddered as she ground upward again, her whole body pulled taut.
With one final, urgent wave of movement, they came together, lips parting in a shared cry. For a long moment afterward, they clung to each other, hearts pounding and breaths mingling.
After a minute, Theo collapsed onto Catherine's chest, sweaty skin pressed warm against warm. Their fingertips traced lazy patterns over heated flesh. Theo brushed a stray lock from Catherine's forehead and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.
They stayed like that until the light through the blinds had shifted, and the city outside had gotten on with its Sunday, and at some point one of them said something about a shower and the other agreed, and eventually they untangled themselves.
Catherine wore one of Theo's button-downs, a pale blue Oxford that fell just below her hip, and came to stand at the coffee maker while Theo settled onto a kitchen stool and watched her.
Her hair was still damp from the shower, falling darker than usual past her shoulders, and she'd forgone makeup entirely, and she looked, Theo thought, like someone who had finally stopped performing for a room and just existed in it.
Like herself, but unedited. Like something Theo intended to spend a considerable amount of time looking at.
"You're staring, again," Catherine said, without turning around.
“I know,” Theo said. She caught her by the hips and drew her between her knees. Catherine came easily, settling back against her chest, and Theo pressed her face briefly against her shoulder and breathed in.
They stayed like that until the coffee was ready. Catherine poured two mugs, handed one back over her shoulder, and then said, "One second,” and disappeared into the hallway.
She came back with her purse, set it on the counter, and unzipped a small interior pocket, pulling out a small pill container.
Theo watched her over the rim of her mug. "Came prepared, did you?"
Catherine's mouth curved. "I started carrying a spare with me after the hospital as a precaution." She paused, the curve widening just slightly. "Though I'll admit I was also hopeful."