Love is a strong word; Ana doesn’t know love. Not in the way she believes Quinn wants the question to be answered. She loves the Great Mother, love her parents, love her friends, and love her colleagues. But that kind of love is never romantic, not the same sort of feelings as the one she held for Quinn.

They never manage to make her face hot with a smile, her desire to burn bright and blinding. Their touches rarely make her comfortable and safe, their voices would never reverberate through her soul; forever echoing in her mind until they meet again.

And the sight of them so vulnerable, while will always move her heart; will never make it beat with the same ferocity it now hammers for Quinn. The way her smile simmer down to a furtive thing, the way she struggles to look Ana in the eyes, the way her voice is lowering to a bashful whisper.

This part of her, the part Ana has never seen before, almost appears like the exact opposite of her usual temperament. Gone are the mocking confidence, the bold and sharp smile, the easy assertiveness of her voice. That her was gorgeous and glorious, the flame of her soul sears Ana in a sensation similar to the venom of a snake.

Replacing the former is a Quinn who are unsure, whose smile are soft and small, while her voice became heavy with diffident. The fire dimmed into an ember of a lightning bug, and while she’s still captivating and charming, she’s also… cute.

Hearing such a word verbalized in her skull causes a smile to play on her lips. What a childish word, she thinks. But nothing else would suit her better, not at this very moment.

With all of that, all of this; all of Quinn in mind, Ana stalls just for an instant before giving her an honest answer. “I don’t know,” she says.

Immediately, Quinn faces become crestfallen, though she tries hard to hide it by gazing towards the floor. “…oh.” Her cracking voice doesn’t help with the effort. When she raises her head, she does so with listlessness her fake cheer can’t cover. “I understand, Ana.”

It causes Ana’s brows to furrow for a moment before she realizes what troubles her. Before Quinn can walk away from this meeting of them with the wrong impression. “I don’t believe you do, Quinn.” Ana cuts her off, the same way the woman cuts her off just a few seconds before.

“I do?” she asks, daring to show hope.

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The instant Ana sees it. “Yes,” she replied to grasp the head. “If you would only allow me to finish.” And pulls her back into her seat.

With Quinn situated. “As I have said: I don’t know whether or not I love you, Quinn,” Ana began. “I never experience a romantic love before, not once in my life.” Explaining herself like a teacher to a student. “So, it would be dishonest of me to claim to love you when the feeling deep inside of me is a mere infatuation.”

She pauses, giving Quinn the chance to respond. When the woman only nods, Ana continues: “But I would like to learn more. To see—no, apologies—to confirm that what I feel for you are indeed love, romantic in its nature.”

Quinn wants to answer, then, but Ana stops her by going further. “Because I do feel something for you, Quinn.” Settling on the verdant green of her orb, studying the manner by which they observe her with curiosity.

“I know I do when our hands connect and it fits to a turn.”

Absentmindedly, she rubs her hand; reliving the way Quinn held it so gently last night before they simply fell asleep side by side without doing anything else, too tired by the event of the day.

“I know I do when I watch you speak and notice the tenderness by which you discuss your familiars, the care that shines through all deceit and act as you reminisce about the many adventures you had with them.”

Even now, Ana can still remember a week ago, when Quinn recounts the many anecdotes she has of her confidants as Ana works late into the dark, accompanied by Quinn at her side.

She was absorbed in her own world when she told Ana the tales, but every time Ana gazes for too long, she would quickly notice and send her a patient smile; as if waiting for Ana to say something.

When Ana doesn’t, she continues until the night end with both of them once again sharing warmth on Ana’s chamber.

“I know I do when I find your viridescent and golden eyes watching me in a silent worry at my bedside.”

The catalyst of their relationship is burned to Ana’s mind, it will forever be etched there as the moment she understood Quinn not as a mere human, but a person complex and capable of empathy.

Finished with her little monologue, Ana stands and extends a hand. “So, if you would kindly answer me now in affirmative, plumply take my hand and let us entrain on this odyssey conjunctly.”

Though, her nervousness shows by her choice of words; she doesn’t relent. Sainted, she stays still, giving Quinn the chance to think, and Ana to study her further.

It’s not exactly that there’s something new to see, Ana just couldn’t resist the temptation to observe her whenever she’s within viewing distance. The fact that she smells like rain forest doesn’t help her.

Especially not today, not after Ana’s whole monologue, following her familiarity with the entirety of Quinn’s body; the way she would whimper if Ana kisses her right above the shoulder blade, the way her smile softens whenever it was directed at Ana, her words lighter, easier, kinder; more suitable for her thin and beautiful—“Okay! I think I understand now.”

Her confidence fully returned, Quinn follows suit and takes Ana’s hand in hers, then: “You love but are just in denial, are you not, Matriarch?” she teases her with an impish smirk.