CHAPTER RATING: PG-13
NOTE: Advance warning for some unwanted sexual contact and conversation in this chapter
Chapter 35
India
(Part 2)
Ease My Troubles, That’s What You Do
Willow woke into darkness, her eyes slowly flickering open.
It was dead of night and though the blanket was barely draped across her body, she was warm.
This was unusual as the room had been pretty chilly previous evenings.
She didn’t remember falling asleep but when she felt an earbud still pressed into her ear and an arm thrown across her waist, she realized they must have fallen asleep when they were still listening to music.
The music had stopped, though.
Tara’s phone had died, probably. Though that explained why she was so warm with all of the body heat.
But what had woken her?
Her ears caught something that sounded like heavy breathing but that had become a sound she was accustomed to from sharing so many rooms with so many different people. But this felt close.
Too close.
And it wasn’t Tara’s saintly respiration.
Tara was nearest the wall and curled into her, so Willow shifted her body on its side facing out so she could see into the room. After a moment of adjustment into the pitch black, she noted movement near the foot of their bed. Slowly, through several heavy blinks, she realized it was a figure with their arm moving up and down near their waist.
She closed her eyes and moved again and this time when she opened her eyes, everything seemed still again.
Frowning and shaking her head, she shifted onto her other side, flung her arm around Tara and tried to go back asleep.
Tara fluffed her pillow in place on her bunk, returning it after taking it the night before to cuddle with Willow.
Her bed hadn’t been slept in so there was no need to make it and she jumped down from the first step on the ladder to the floor.
Willow was sitting on her bed, frowning at her phone. Tara sat in beside her.
“Why so scrunchy?”
Willow slapped her phone against her palm.
“My dad keeps emailing me.”
“That’s good, right?” Tara asked softly, placing her hand on Willow’s knee, “They’re staying in touch?”
“Well, yes. They are. Which
is good and probably as close to normal communication that I could hope for. But…” Willow answered cagily, drawing out the last word, “He keeps insisting I visit Israel ever since I told him we were thinking of going to Egypt instead of Turkey. Wants to give me extra money to go.”
Tara’s hand fell away softly.
“Oh.”
Willow reached behind her neck and rubbed it.
“I guess it’s not a major detour…could just go for like a weekend. Get my dad to pay for a fancy hotel?”
Tara’s eyes stayed down and her voice, quiet.
“I hadn’t really considered it.”
Willow sighed.
“Yeah, I know,” she replied, leaving her phone back down on the bed, “I’ll respond later. Did you sleep better?”
“Like a log now that I had my snuggle buddy,” Tara replied with a gently sloping smile, “You?”
Willow’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Odd dreams.”
“That’s nothing new,” Tara replied affectionately.
“At least I wasn’t speaking in my sleep this time,” Willow replied, squirming uncomfortably, “I’m, um, just gonna go to the bathroom before breakfast.”
“Okay, I’ll wait,” Tara called after her, placing her palms on her thighs for a moment and rubbing them against the fabric, before getting up and turning her back to make Willow’s bed for her.
It was the least she could do considering she’d shared the tiny space with her. Looking at it now she wondered how they even fit without falling out, but they always had just fit together.
She smiled to herself as she smoothed everything out and bent her arms at her hips to nod in satisfaction with the lack of creases.
Just as she was about to turn back, she suddenly found a pair of hands reaching around her from behind and covering her breasts.
She inhaled sharply in surprise.
What was Willow doing?
Anyone could walk in.
It surprised her that it turned her on a little bit.
Except…something was wrong. She looked down.
Those weren’t Willow’s hands.
They were big and rough and the nails were dirty.
And that smell was not Willow’s delicate aroma of afternoon tea. It was that of someone who subscribed to the ‘shower in a can’ philosophy and the distinct minty, rotted waft of someone who uses mouthwash as a replacement for teeth brushing.
She spun around and was met with Warren’s smarmy grin. His body was pressed so close he was almost touching but not quite.
His pants were unzipped but the button was tied so it wasn’t obvious, though it was obvious to Tara as she realized that something had been poking her in the back before she turned.
She stared at him in stunned silence, fearfully immobile until thankfully Willow returned and immediately came over to her side upon seeing the standoff.
“What’s going on?”
Tara slumped toward Willow for protection.
“H-He grabbed me.”
“What!?” Willow spat, her pupils enlarging so much her eyes looked pure black.
“No I didn’t,” Warren said with the air of someone who’d gotten away with this before, “There was a spider on her. Big one. Two big ones, actually.”
He stepped back with a smirk and Willow suddenly gasped quietly.
“I saw you. Last night. You were…” she glanced down, then over at Tara, “He was standing over the bed touching himself. I thought I was dreaming it but you were really doing it weren’t you? You creepy pervert.”
Warren’s face flashed with anger and he got up close in Willow’s face.
“You didn’t wake up the night before when I came in your face and wiped it off.”
Willow didn’t have a moment to process that as suddenly she saw a fist swinging for his face and it wasn’t hers.
She heard Warren’s nose crack and then a loud, effeminate squeal as his hands rose to cup it.
“You bitch!”
Willow looked over at Tara, shocked, who was looking at her own ruffled hand with the same look on her face.
“What is going on here?” a male voice with an Indian accent boomed through the room before he appeared, skinny but tall and surprisingly well-built, and wearing a nametag with the hostel logo on it.
Warren pointed at Tara petulantly.
“She punched me!”
“He grabbed her chest,” Willow interjected quickly, standing in front of Tara, “And he’s been touching himself in front of us.”
The Indian man looked between them all unsurely for a moment before his eyes dropped to Warren’s opened fly and his face hardened.
“You out of here right now!”
Warren tried to fight him off as he was dragged out but his strength wasn’t comparable.
“She’s lying! They’re lying bitches!” he shrieked as his heels imprinted the carpet, “Dumb whores!”
Willow’s heart pounded in her chest until he was completely out of the room, then she turned to Tara, wide-eyed.
“You punched him for me.”
Tara cradled her lightly bruised hand.
“He hurt my hand,” she answered, flattening out her knuckles again.
Willow stepped toward her and took it tenderly.
“Aw,” she said softly, “Baby. That was…”
Tara expected Willow to say ‘terrifying’ or ‘disgusting’ but her pupils were blown in a whole new way.
“Really hot.”
Tara blushed but a pleased smile tugged on her lips.
“Nobody messes with my girl.”
Willow gently touched the broken skin on Tara’s knuckles and watched her wince.
“I’ll go see if they have some ointment. Sit down, okay?”
She guided Tara to sit on the bottom bunk and headed to the front desk, where their sweet Indian savior was printing a page with a hastily-taken photo of Warren and his broken nose with NO ENTRY in English and Hindi above and below it.
He looked up as she approached and stopped what he was doing.
“Are you both most okay? I must apologize unreservedly.”
“Yeah, I think so,” Willow nodded, reaching across her body to hold one arm with the other hand, “It’s not your fault. There’s creeps everywhere.”
“Man is banned from premises,” he assured.
“That’s probably a good idea,” Willow nodded, “Do you have a first aid kit? For, y’know…”
She twisted her hand indicatively and a hint of a smile appeared on the man’s face.
“Madam has impressive swing.”
“Yes, she does,” Willow replied in a tone unquestionably proud, “Thank you…”
She peered in to read his nametag.
“Manpreet. For getting him out of there.”
Manpreet nodded once.
“You are welcome, Miss…”
“Willow,” Willow supplied.
“Miss Willow,” Manpreet replied, clasping his hands in front of him, “Please do tell me if I may do anything for you.”
“Just the, ah, first aid kit,” Willow said, laying her hands on the counter, “If you have one.”
Manpreet disappeared into the back room and returned with a white plastic container with a little green cross taped on. Willow took it and thanked him again and brought it back to Tara.
She cleaned up Tara’s hand and wrapped a bandage around it gently.
“Is that okay?” she asked tenderly.
“Yes, thank you,” Tara replied, softly tensing and releasing her knuckles to test their sensitivity, “I’m sorry…I think I’ve probably made us miss all the good stuff at breakfast.”
“I think our options are going to be soggy toast or going out,” Willow replied and put an arm around Tara’s shoulders, tugging them close together, “I think a meal is the least I can get you for defending my honor.”
Tara slowly met Willow’s eye, concern shining through.
“Are you okay?”
“You’re the one with the busted up knuckles,” Willow replied with an affectionate smile.
Tara looked away uncomfortably.
“About…what he said?”
Willow took in a soft breath and looked at Tara reassuringly.
“He didn’t really do it.”
“How do you know?” Tara asked with a creased brow of confusion.
“Because it was cold without my snuggle buddy the night before last and I wore a hoody to sleep, tugged up,” Willow said confidently, “Not much more than my eyes were on view. He’s all talk. So don’t worry, okay?”
Tara nodded, relieved; she remembered bringing the blanket up over her head herself that night to keep in the warmth.
But then Willow’s face took on the concern that had left Tara’s.
“What about you? Did he hurt you?”
“It was all so quick,” Tara answered, dazed for a moment before she took stock and realized she was fine and Willow was fine and she was just glad for it to be over, “But, yeah, I’m okay. Glad he’s gone.”
She flexed her hand again, looking down at it in disbelief.
“I can’t believe I punched someone.”
“I can’t believe the first person you ever punched wasn’t Donny,” Willow retorted, laughing at her own joke, “Remind me to stay on your good side when you have PMS.”
Tara snorted and covered her mouth to cover it but her eyes remained alight with the humor of it.
Willow wrapped her arms around Tara and just held her for a few minutes.
“Let’s go get something to eat,” she suggested softly, “Before the others start trickling back.”
Tara nodded and smiled when Willow gingerly held her injured hand in her own.
They walked out and toward the markets, careful to watch every step. There was no room for obliviousness to the streets in this city; a lesson quickly learned.
They made their way to the food stalls and weighed up their options before deciding to get some eggs and spinach wrapped up in chapati. They could eat it easily while they walked around.
The man in the stall whipped it all together in no time, then pointed to three tubs in the front of his cart, next to the barrel of melting ice holding bottles of water and soft drinks.
“You pick chutney.”
“Oh,” Willow replied, peering in, “Um…which one goes best with eggs?”
The vendor grabbed a plastic spoon from a pot.
“You want taste?”
“Thanks!” Willow replied, scooping a full spoon of the first, red chutney and closing her mouth around it.
She made a yummy noise at first as the spoon dragged back over her lips, she licked it again as she swallowed. It was about one-eighth of a second later that her eyes began to bulge.
It was
hot.
The hottest thing she’d ever tasted, including the time she’d practically burned her lips off in her haste to try the Chinese hotpot (and the time she really had almost burned her lips off when she’d been too curious with a glue gun as a child.)
Her arms started to flap but before Tara could react or ask what was wrong, Willow was looking around desperately for relief. She spotted the barrel of drinks and plunged her hand into the icy vat, scooping up a few small cubes and firing one into her mouth while she rubbed the other on her lips.
Tara just silently rubbed Willow’s back and looked at the vendor sheepishly, who was looking back with an amused look on his face.
“We’ll take it plain,” Tara said diplomatically and quickly paid.
“Mmspospay,” Willow tried to speak without relinquishing the ice.
Somehow, or perhaps of course, Tara understand.
“You can pay next time. When you’re not doing your best impression of Elsa.”
Willow stuck out her tongue but immediately had to use her lips-ice on it as the other melted to oblivion.
Tara took the two Indian-style breakfast burritos and took Willow away from the laughing bystanders.
She opened the bottle of water she had in her bag and handed it over for Willow to glug down. Willow did exactly that and held the bottle in relief against her lips when the burning finally eased.
“How come I’m the one who always gets landed with the steaming ears and lava tongue?”
“Because you jump into things mouth first,” Tara replied, then glanced over at Willow through her eyelashes, “A trait I’ve enjoyed in the past.”
Willow’s eyes widened as Tara handed off her breakfast.
“Especially with your lava tongue.”
Willow had to shove the chapati into her gob to stop herself from squeaking.
“Eating now.”
“Mmm,” Tara replied, bringing the corner of her breakfast up to nibble on.
She blushed as she realized what she’d actually said and how intently she was watching Willow eat.
The adrenaline was starting to wear off.
She looked back down at her food and let its warmth settle her stomach.
“It’s pretty good actually.”
“Yeah, it’s delicious,” Willow agreed and Tara was relieved to hear the normalcy in her tone, “The vending machine at the Grab’n’Go won’t be able to live up.”
Tara smiled softly.
“What do you want to do today? We never made plans.”
Willow shrugged one shoulder and they walked around another couple of blocks to finish their food. Along the way, she found a flyer roughly stuck onto a pole.
“What about that?”
“A street art tour?” Tara read cursive English above a printed address street corner.
Willow shrugged again.
“Why not?”
“No, it looks fun,” Tara agreed, “I just didn’t think it was your thing.”
“I did a graffiti hunt in Melbourne,” Willow replied with a faux-haughtiness, “I’m cultured.”
“Okay then,” Tara grinned, “I’m in.”
Willow smiled and tapped her pockets.
“I didn’t bring my phone for pictures, do you have yours?”
Tara shook her head.
“No, I locked it up to charge. It died during the night.”
“Right,” Willow replied and glanced at the flyer again, “We have enough time, do you mind if I go back to grab it? It would seem a shame to miss out.”
“Of course,” Tara nodded, “I’ll come with you and refill our water bottles again. You drained them.”
Willow leaned up and kissed Tara’s cheek.
“I don’t know how I’d stay hydrated without you.”
As they headed back toward the hostel, Willow paused and placed her palm gently against her stomach.
“Are you okay?” Tara asked with concern.
Willow shook herself out of it and continued onward.
“Yeah, just those eggs turning over.”
When they were on the steps, Willow suddenly rushed ahead.
“Meet you back here in a few!”
Those eggs went from turning to somersaulting and were determined to leave Willow’s body however they could. The bathroom stalls were the other side of the building, which may as well be Narnia for how unreachable it seemed to Willow.
Sweat broke out on her brow and her stomach lurched in a last and final warning. Willow looked desperately from side to side and spotted an open single room ahead with the cleaning lady and her cart parked outside it. Willow skid toward it and saw the en suite bathroom inside light up as if a golden halo was shining down on it (it was just a dodgy lighting fixture.)
She practically threw herself in and twisted the lock, just about making it to the toilet on time as the cleaning lady began banging on the door and yelling in Hindi.
“I’m sorry!” Willow called out helplessly, her head hanging in her hands as her guts wound themselves up inside her, “I’m sorry!”
She hadn’t even learned how to say it in Hindi yet so she couldn’t apologize properly.
Her hands crossed over her stomach and she leaned forward hoping the pressure might alleviate the pain but it didn’t stop churning.
After a minute, the cleaner stopped yelling, though Willow could still hear the ringing in her ears. Instead, moments later, there was a loud bang of a hand against the door and a male voice boomed through authoritatively.
“Excuse me, this is not a reserved room. You must exit at once and pay a soiling fee.”
Willow knew that voice.
“…Manpreet?”
There was a pause before the voice returned, softer.
“Miss Willow?”
Willow sighed.
“Manpreet, I’m having a… gastroenteric situation.”
“I do not understand this word, Miss Willow,” Manpreet replied, the urgency gone in his voice.
“I just need the bathroom, okay?” Willow shot back quickly, “It was an emergency situation.”
Another pause.
“I see, Miss Willow.”
Willow’s cheeks flamed as much as her intestines.
“I’ll pay for the room. Can you book it out for the night?”
“I will do this for you, Miss Willow,” Manpreet said reassuringly.
Willow winced as a fresh cramp squeezed through her painfully.
“Can you give the key to my—can you give the key to Tara? You remember her?”
“Miss Rambo!” Manpreet replied in recognition, “Yes, I will do this. I will leave you alone now, Miss Willow.”
Willow exhaled softly. She was in far too much pain to focus on the embarrassment but it didn’t stop her face contorting with humiliation.
“…thanks Manpreet.”
She heard the sound of the outer door closing on the room and her head returned to above her knees as she groaned painfully.
Tara checked her watch again as she loitered outside the entrance and tapped her foot gently.
As more minutes ticked by she grew concerned and decided to check if Willow had gotten distracted by her phone. As she stepped back into the lobby of the hostel, Manpreet appeared from nowhere and ran up to her.
“Ah, Miss Rambo, I find you!”
“Have you seen—” Tara started, then stopped and frowned, “I’m sorry, what did you call me?”
“I have key for you,” Manpreet replied, holding it out for her, “Miss Willow reserve new room for you.”
Tara’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Maybe in case Warren came back? But they usually talked about these things first.
“Oh.”
“I believe she is suffering from sudden anal leakage and required suitable facilities,” Manpreet attempted to supply helpfully.
Tara just stared at him for several long seconds before finally blinking slowly and taking the key.
“102?” she read off of it, “I’ll, um…yeah. Thank you.”
She blinked again, shook her head quickly and walked past him. The room was only a few feet away so it didn’t take long for her to get there and let herself in. The room had a big queen bed, the biggest they’d had outside of the nice hotels, and though it was basic decor, there was a TV, a mini-fridge and even a little tea set on a tray.
Tara glanced away from the room and at the second door right inside it. She went to knock with her wrapped knuckles, then thought better of it and used her other hand.
“Willow?”
“Tara?”
Willow’s voice was weak and pained. Tara didn’t have to guess why.
“Oh honey, are you not feeling well?”
There was a pause.
“You could say that.”
“Can I get you anything?” Tara asked softly through the door.
“I just wanted you to know where I was,” Willow replied, a bit hastier, “You should go again. Do the tour.”
“I can sit here and talk to you,” Tara offered but Willow was quick to shoot it down.
“I really don’t want you to.”
“You know I'm accustomed to your bathroom emergencies,” Tara replied with a fond smile in her voice, “I really don't mind.”
“Tara, just—” Willow yelled, then an audible groan could be heard, “Just go. Please. Now.”
Willow tensed every muscle in her body until she finally heard the door close again.
This was hell.
Her head slumped into her hands again. She was starting to feel unable to even hold it up by herself.
She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, trying to use her mind to uncoil the continued cramping.
She had no idea how long she stayed like that, or whether she was even conscious or unconscious at times as everything just became a painful haze, but became startled when something touched her shoulder.
Both hands grabbed the seat to keep herself on it, then she looked to the side to see what had touched her.
It was at this point she was sure she was hallucinating because she saw a plastic carrier bag floating on a long stick that had been stuck through the tiny rectangular open window in the top corner.
Willow cautiously slid the handles of the bag off the stick, at which point it retreated as if by magic. She looked inside where there was water, wipes, a cold compress, a tiny warm hot water bottle, and her phone. Fully charged.
She felt a lump form in her throat and clutched the bag close to her chest for a moment.
She took the compress and pressed it to her cheeks, then just over her whole face for a moment and sighed contentedly. When it got a bit too cold, she took it off again, feeling a little bit better.
She put it on the sink so it was accessible again to her and took the hot water bottle to her stomach. They was definite relief from it and she felt well enough to look at the screen of her phone, where she saw messages already waiting for her.

A laugh escaped and Willow brought her forearm up to wipe tears from her eyes.
She angled her body so the hot water bottle pressed into her stomach by way of her thighs and kept up the pressure. She started to type a response.



Willow sighed and focused on the warmth on her belly.


Willow frowned.
Her eyes widened in realization.


Fresh sweat grew on Willow’s brow as she awaited a calm, reassuring response from her ever-wise girlfriend.

Willow nearly fell off the bowl.

Willow looked around for the sink lest she start spewing from that end too.

Willow heard a cackle of laughter come in from the room and felt her cheeks flame.
A fresh cramp set upon her and Willow didn’t have time to be indignant any longer.
Hours passed with intermittent check-ins but Willow mostly just endured with her eyes closed; so much so that she fell asleep slumped against the sink, completely exhausted.
She came to by banging her head against the faucet and rubbed the spot, confused as she tried to place herself. She didn’t recognize the bathroom at first but then she remembered barging in earlier.
Ugh. That was embarrassing.
She put a hand on her stomach and pressed gently. She was tender but it wasn’t the Coney Island Cyclone in there any longer.
She was glad that the window was still open.
She lifted herself off of the seat, her legs wobbling a little as she did so. She immediately decided she needed to shower and waddled over to it with her pants around her ankles. She stripped off and welcomed standing under the warm spray and twisting the crick out of her neck.
She wasn’t about to change back into the same clothes, so she put a towel around her and tucked it in so it would stay in place. She opened the bathroom door, letting the steam escape and sighing happily when she found the room a lot warmer than the shared dorm had been.
She always tried to make sure they avoided the absolute bottom barrel accommodation but it had been a lesson along the way that a lot of people didn’t consider heat a basic need.
Almost as soon as she’d stepped out, Tara was walking over to her with a little teacup in hand.
“Hey,” Willow greeted, all the better for seeing Tara’s face.
“Hey,” Tara smiled back softly, gently offering her the cup, “It’s peppermint. It should help. Come sit down.”
Willow sat on the bed and warmed her hands on the little cup.
“How’d you know I was coming out?”
“Well, I didn’t have an Instagram post this time to guide me this time,” Tara replied fondly, reaching over to tuck a piece of damp hair behind Willow’s ear, “I heard the shower. How are you feeling?”
“Raw,” Willow replied, frowning and looking toward the window to see if she could ascertain the time of day, “I don’t even know what time it is.”
“Dinner-ish,” Tara answered, placing her hand down on the bedspread, “I was going to make you some toast but wanted to check with you first in case you thought it would be too much.”
“That’d be really nice,” Willow replied, feeling the relief of having someone take care of her, “What about you?”
“I had a big lunch earlier,” Tara replied with a shrug, then stood to hike a grocery bag from the floor and fish out the pack of bread she’d bought, “I put your PJs on the heater to warm.”
Willow glanced over to the heater and saw her red flannel jammies spread out over them.
“Thank you, Tara.”
Tara just smiled bashfully and glanced down.
“I’ll go make you some toast.”
Willow watched her leave, feeling some love bloom in her heart and crept over to the heater to retrieve her pajamas. She held the soft flannel against her for a moment before dropping the towel and draping her limbs in the warmth.
Its hug was only second to a Tara-hug.
Which Willow hoped would be forthcoming soon too.
She noticed all of their stuff was in the corner, which Tara must have lugged down by herself while Willow was semi-comatose.
She went back to the bed and slipped under the sheets, which felt so much better than the ones in the dorms where she’d actually contemplated laying her towel down to sleep on by how dirty they looked.
She settled her back against the pillows with the sheet draped over her waist and reached for the remote on the nightstand.
Holding it in her hand, she looked around and smiled. This could be their bedroom in the future. Better decorated, hopefully, and she’d like a bit more pop in her bed linen, but this could be them, snuggling up on a Friday night as they always had to watch a movie, but more.
Honest. Sincere. Real.
She flicked through the channels until she found something in English that wasn’t a news channel and checked her phone while she waited for Tara to return. She did after a few minutes with a plate piled high full of toast.
“Do you have a second, secret, sick girlfriend?” Willow asked with a quiet smile, “Or are you trying to kill me via gluten overdose?”
“Option 3,” Tara answered as she climbed on the bed and sat cross-legged beside Willow, “Sharing is caring.”
Willow picked up a triangle, because of course Tara had cut them into triangles for her, and held it up to Tara’s mouth. Tara bit the corner and smiled bashfully, which Willow returned and took the bread back to her own mouth to eat.
“Good toast,” she complimented and Tara waved a piece around with some mock-snootiness.
“It’s all in the burn.”
Willow giggled and took a long sip from her cup of hot tea. She patted the spot next to her for Tara to get under the sheet beside her. Tara kicked off her shoes off and sat alongside Willow, sharing the sheet.
Their hands came together through linked fingers between them and neither minded having to reach over each time to take toast from the plate.
“Xena,” Tara commented as her focus finally landed on the television, “A classic.”
“I never watched it when we were kids,” Willow replied, cocking her head as she watched the two women around a campfire, “My dad didn’t like the promotion of mythological gods. You know, compared to his own totally-not-mythological one.”
“I was always more into the goddesses,” Tara replied wryly and Willow saw a crooked smile hiding behind some chewing.
Willow almost forgot she’d spent the day doubled over in agony such was the sweetness of just sitting with Tara like this.
As the show played out, Willow’s brow gently creased. She leaned over to whisper to Tara.
“Is it just me or is this show kinda gay?”
The biggest laugh rose from Tara’s stomach but somehow she managed to contain it through pursed lips threatening so hard to grin that her jaw shook.
“You know, you might be right,” she managed to get out in a neutral tone with only her eyes betraying her.
Willow looked at her kind of funny but shrugged it off and leaned in against Tara’s slide, resting her head on Tara’s shoulder.
A dance show came on when the episode ended with Bollywood stars that was energetic to watch and then a buddy comedy with subtitles.
Willow watched the reluctant protagonist being dragged around a strip joint with appropriate macho comments being espoused. She poked Tara in the side with her elbow.
“Hey, Tara?”
“Mmm?” Tara replied, brushing her fingers against Willow’s shoulder.
Willow couldn’t help a giggle escaping.
“Tits or ass?” she asked in a gruff voice meant to mimic one of the men on screen.
Tara rolled her eyes playfully, thinking they were exchanging the same mocking spirit, but Willow kept looking at her expectantly.
“Are you serious?” Tara asked after a few moments of uncertainty.
Willow’s nose scrunched.
“I wasn’t but now I kinda am?”
Tara’s mouth opened and closed. She knew better than to ask if Willow meant the women on screen.
“Just Willow,” she settled on after a moment, dropping a kiss onto Willow’s forehead and turning her attention back to the screen.
Willow pulled back a bit and looked at Tara curiously.
“Come on, you have to choose.”
“Why?” Tara asked, holding up a hand airily, “Are you being threatened with having a body part lasered off? Can we negotiate your freedom with all body parts attached?”
Willow gently tugged on Tara’s sleeve.
“It doesn’t have to be about me. Just a…general concept,” she said, her voice rising uncomfortably for a moment, “Just tell me.”
Tara inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. She let her fingers dance up Willow’s thigh.
“If I have to choose…”
Her fingers pressed insistently enough between Willow’s legs to make her involuntarily gasp.
“Your…”
She then surprised Willow by dropping a kiss on her nearest shoulder.
“Shoulder blade.”
Willow didn’t have enough time to say ‘huh?’ before Tara brushed her lips against Willow’s neck and pressed a kiss into the hollow in her throat.
“And your throat.”
Her mouth dipped as low as the open V of the flannel allowed on Willow’s chest.
“Your breasts,” she whispered and let the tail of the pajama shirt rise enough for her to kiss there, “And your bellybutton.”
Her hand moved then, curving around Willow’s behind and giving it a squeeze.
“Your butt,” she said, smirking a little as she rose her head back to Willow who was looking back at her with an unbroken stare, “And your thighs.”
She grasped Willow’s thigh suddenly, making her jump. Willow’s breath hitched as Tara’s fingers danced down her leg.
“And that spot where your calf muscles tense when you’re excited and send quivers right back up to your…”
Her arm brushed up to press between Willow’s legs again.
“And most of all I love your… lips,” she spoke, her face inches away from Willow’s face now, “Your soft, sweet lips.”
She kissed Willow three times, slowly.
“That I love to kiss.”
Willow’s body was completely still and tingling.
Tara sure knew how to blow her insecurity fishing right out of the water; slapping her down and building her up all at once.
Tara’s hand fell away and she bumped her nose against Willow’s, their breaths mingling hotly for a moment.
“That’s what I choose.”
Willow’s eyes closed and she swallowed deeply as she felt Tara settled back into a sitting position.
Her breath was shaken as it left her mouth and when she opened her eyes again just the sight of Tara made her flush to her bones.
“I’m a breast gal myself,” she blurted, immediately cringing at her own lack of grace.
Tara could only smile and chuckle to herself.
“I know.”
“You already knew that?” Willow asked, frowning with surprise, “Am I too hands-y?”
Tara chuckled again.
“Oh no. I’ve known for a long time. It's one of the reasons I held out hope that you might like me back. I saw you looking.”
Willow suddenly sat up straight.
“Did you wear low cut tops on purpose to our sleepovers?” she accused, her mouth dropping open when Tara just returned a guilty look, “I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! It was one of those back of the brain thoughts I wouldn’t let myself process fully but…grr, you tease!”
“Hey, I didn’t know for sure,” Tara defended, blushing, “You’d always been self-conscious about your size, without merit might I add. I didn’t know if you were looking or
looking.”
“So you knew
I was kinda gay,” Willow reasoned in a soft voice like it was a revelation.
“I ‘knew’ you were in love with Xander because that’s what you always told me,” Tara replied, her tongue poking into her cheek for a moment, “But I thought…hoped… maybe you might perhaps have a little…curiosity too.”
She smiled fondly.
“I remember once you said we should play spin the bottle…just the two of us.”
She glanced down at Willow’s body.
“Plus your PJs were always a little bit gay.”
Willow looked down and frowned.
“What’s gay about flannel?”
“Um, apart from everything?” Tara questioned with a sincerely arched eyebrow.
Willow lifted her sleeve up and examined it as if rainbows might come shooting out. She decided she was glad she didn’t know about that connection because she probably would have stopped wearing them and they were super comfortable.
She stayed on her side facing Tara and started to draw circles on Tara’s thigh.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Tara replied slowly, hesitantly, “But if it’s about your body, I—”
“No, no,” Willow interjected, waving a hand about, “It’s about other people’s bodies.”
Tara’s eyes grew wide like saucers and Willow was actually able to laugh to, and at, herself.
“I can see on your face you think I’m about to jump into a jealousy spiral, but actually it’s the opposite. Because…I know we both have insecurities, but you don’t get jealous. Can you teach me how?”
“Oh, Willow,” Tara replied softly, shaking her head, “I get jealous. I have a long history of being jealous, especially over you.”
Willow’s brow creased.
“Umm no, you don’t. I’ve never seen you jealous, ever.”
Tara shook her head again.
“I was jealous of Buffy when you started hanging out with her, I was jealous of the guys you said you crushed on. Who was that actor guy from the 80s? John Cusack?”
“On reflection, I think it was Joan’s…unique…form that I enjoyed,” Willow replied, blushing to her ears, “My parents would probably call that a unique kind of transference.”
She tried to smile.
“Better not tell them or they’ll want to write a paper on me,” she said, then her eyes and voice grew downcast, “Another paper.”
Tara looked down, her thumbs turning over themselves in her lap.
“I was even jealous of Dickie last year.”
“Dickie? Dickie BABCOCK? Seriously??” Willow exclaimed in disbelief, but reined it in when she noticed Tara wasn’t kidding around, “Wow, Tara…I never knew.”
Tara smiled softly, sadly and Willow realized she recognized it and not in a good way.
“I guess it’s hard to notice. I hid all those years of it behind the smile.”
Willow’s heart tightened painfully.
“Years?”
Tara drew her knees up to her chest, boxing herself in.
“That’s about how long you were set on Xander.”
Willow shook her head dismissively.
“But he—”
“Was the love of your life,” Tara interjected quickly, “So you’ve said.”
Willow felt a harsh slap of reality of all of the times she’d whined to Tara about liking Xander…how often she’d kissed her while saying she was practicing for him.
Fuck.She wisely shut her mouth for a moment to choose her words.
“I'm sorry, Tara,” she said eventually, slightly helplessly but with nothing but sincerity, “I’m so sorry. It was never real. But I get that it hurt you. I don’t think I understood quite as much until right now. Which is on me, because you’ve said it. I guess I just…I guess I thought your feelings were as real as mine were…which is to say, not.”
She placed a hand on Tara’s knee and gently tried to push it down.
“You have to know that every kiss was because I wanted to kiss you. I was just too scared to say it. And I’m so sorry I ever made you feel differently.”
Tears pricked her eyes and Tara let her legs be lowered again, physically opening up.
“Hey…You don't have anything to be sorry about,” she comforted.
Willow swiped at her eyes.
“You’re doing that thing where you push your feelings down to make me feel better.”
“No, Willow,” Tara shook her head, “Okay, listen…One…my jealousy isn't your problem…unless you're intentionally invoking it, which I don’t think you were. And two… I only ever wanted you to be happy. If that was him, then…that was him. I would have supported it.”
Willow reached out and placed her palm on Tara’s cheek.
“You’re a better person than me.”
Tara leaned her cheek in to nuzzle Willow’s hand.
“You don’t give yourself credit. I never doubted you cared about my feelings. You used to tell me to date Nate.”
Willow’s face scrunched up.
“Nuh-uh.”
Tara nodded.
“You would drop hints about how you thought he liked me.”
“I was fishing! I wanted to know if you liked him too!” Willow could only laugh at herself again, which exploded into uncontrollable giggles, “Sorry, it just seems so stupid now! I mean, Xander’s a great friend but
I thought I wanted
him and not
you and
you thought that too?! How stupid were we?!”
Tara couldn’t help but smile as she thought back to what were the more ridiculous times of envy against Xander as a dorky, spotty, awkward kid going through puberty.
“I was so jealous when you chose him to be your Coke and Pepsi partner at your bat mitzvah.”
“Seriously?” Willow asked, eyes wide.
“Seething,” Tara replied, grinning at the silliness of it all.
“I only chose him because he was gonna choose you! I heard him talking about it to Jesse!” Willow laughed, “Stupid idiot ran out on Sprite.”
“Don’t call him that,” Tara chastised softly.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Willow sighed contritely, “Even if I would say it to his face. In fact, I did.”
“I remember,” Tara agreed, nodding, “Your mom wasn’t impressed.”
“When is she ever?” Willow replied wryly and they both slid slowly into silence.
Willow’s hand had remained on Tara’s thigh and she gave it a little squeeze
“Is there anything I can do to repair all those years?”
Tara lifted Willow’s hand to her mouth and kissed her palm.
“You do it every day you wake up and choose to be with me.”
Willow reached to clasp Tara’s delicately bandaged hand between both of hers.
“Let me tell you the whole story. To make you understand that it was never him. I told you a little bit of it before. Do you remember me telling you about Cordelia making fun of me on the first day of Kindergarten…because I said I wanted to marry you?”
Tara nodded slowly and Willow recounted all of her fuzzy childhood memories. The yellow crayon and the bullying and how using Xander as a cover was a lie so old she’d forgotten it was a lie.
“He was the perfect beard. He never liked me back so I never had to actually act on it. And I treated him badly as much as I did you. I don’t deserve all the forgiveness I’ve been given.”
“You were way too young to try and have to work out all of that turmoil,” Tara replied tenderly, “Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself.”
Willow dipped her head for a moment, then smiled up at Tara.
“I’m glad we can talk like this.”
“I am too,” Tara replied softly.
Willow bounced on the spot, showing some excitement.
“I want this. I don’t ever want there to be something so misunderstood between us again. I want to be open about everything. It might take some time and work to get there, but I want it. Even if it hurts or…I want to know everything,” she smiled bashfully, “You might even be able to point out other women you find attractive to me one day.”
Tara opened her arms, which Willow gladly fell into, though looked up quickly for a moment.
“Just to be really clear, today is not that day.”
Tara chuckled softly.
“I know honey,” she said, kissing Willow’s brow, “I only have eyes for you.”
Willow’s face pressed closely into Tara’s chest and her fingers rolled over the curves. She looked up at Tara through her eyelashes and let her hand dip lower, pressing against the front of Tara’s pants as Tara had done to her earlier.
“You know I’m not exclusively inclined toward the northern slopes…” she said with a salacious grin, “I’m definitely a pussy Willow too.”
Tara took in a sharp breath and exhaled it shakily.
“Oh. I, um, I got my…”
Willow nodded understandingly, pressing her lips to Tara again.
“I can wait,” she whispered softly, looking down bashfully, “I don’t think my stomach is up much for bouncing around tonight anyway.”
“Think we can cuddle?” Tara asked and Willow nodded keenly.
“If you’re the big spoon.”
They shuffled down so they were lying and Tara curved her body around Willow’s back. She let her hand slide under Willow’s top and gently rubbed her palm around Willow’s belly in circles.
“Is this okay?” she asked softly in Willow’s ear.
Willow’s eyes closed peacefully.
“Mmm, I like that.”
She rested her fingers gently over Tara’s hand.
“And I love you,” she said softly, recounting the words she’d memorized while Tara had gone to get toast, “Main tumse pyar karthee hoon.”
“That’s the most complicated one yet,” Tara murmured as her fingertips brushed Willow’s tender skin.
Willow exhaled in a soft sigh.
“The words, maybe. Not the feeling. Not anymore.”
She smiled as she drifted off into tranquil sleep.
“Not ever again.”