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Until the Blue Hour
Holding Moonlight in Our Hands (The Latter Part)

Holding Moonlight in Our Hands (The Latter Part)

Finally making her way to the edge of Allison’s bed, Remy sighed as she glanced at her phone. As was nearly always the case recently, she couldn’t manage to get started less than fifteen minutes later than she’d intended. Waking up with Allison was an arduous process on the best of days, with Allison’s general hatred of early starts leading to her tendency to drag the process out for as long as possible. Proper motivation to start the day typically involved a significant amount of time spent in each other’s arms, staring at the ceiling and talking about nothing in particular until there was legitimate concern about not making it to work on time. Even more incentive was necessary on especially difficult mornings, leading to Remy’s earlier promises of pampering to come. It had quickly become one of Remy’s favorite things about her new daily routine, uncovering an irresistible desire to lavish Allison with attention every time an opportunity presented itself. Even more important to her, though, was the fact that Allison seemed to need that attention every bit as much as she desired it.

Remy had never seen it for herself, but she’d been told more than once that it was easy to tell when they’d slept in separate apartments for the night or had been in too much of a hurry to follow through with their morning routine in its entirety. Allison was said to spend close to half of the day either quietly sulking or noticeably irritable, both such dramatic shifts from her usual cheerful demeanor that Remy could only take what she’d learned as a call to action. She made it her responsibility to ensure that Allison’s day started peacefully—or, on more difficult mornings, that it started at all—and the effect was immediate. Normally at least somewhat surly first thing in the morning and slowly acclimating to being awake throughout the day, Allison seemed much more like herself when leaving for work when there was time to spend together beforehand. Encouraged by the results, Remy even went as far as rolling back her usual time for waking up by an hour just to be sure there was time to spend together every morning. Despite how effective a solution it had been, starting every day even earlier sparked an outrage from Allison that could only be tempered by promises of cuddling and coffee every morning. Though she was outraged, it only took several days of making good on those promises for the protests to largely cease.

As Remy’s thoughts continued to drift as she recounted how much thins had changed for the better over the last several months, her concentration was shattered by the sudden sound of Allison’s voice, an almost alarmingly long string of obscenities filling the air in the apartment and seeming to shake the walls. Remy turned to see Allison limping, apparently having stepped too close to the edge of the bed as she was getting up and stubbed her toe. Suppressing a smile for fear that it would be misinterpreted, Remy jumped from the bed to resume her morning duties, taking Allison by the hand and gently guiding her to the bathroom. Again, the effect was both noticeable and immediate; her angry shouting had become a nearly inaudibly quiet grumbling, and her glowering had only become more intense in the sense that there was an obvious conscious effort to conceal a growing smile. Remy did her best to not notice, her efforts to keep her own smiling under control becoming increasingly difficult as she watched Allison continue to stumble along the hallway toward the bathroom.

Despite the energy that Allison had been displaying only minutes earlier—which had been enough to cause them to be fifteen minutes late getting started—she seemed to have exhausted all of it. Though decidedly more content, she was looking and acting much more like usual for that time of morning. Her eyes were only half open at best as she muttered vague complaints, stopping only to yawn widely while bouncing off of nearly every wall and door frame between her and her destination. Allowing Allison to lean on her for support, Remy hid her barely contained laughter while carefully stealing glances. She adored seeing Allison in such a state, her demeanor reminiscent of an angry, hissing kitten who just wants to be left alone long enough to find a place to curl up and go to sleep. It just made Remy want to care for her more, causing the temptation to reach out for another petting or cuddle to border on becoming overwhelming. The pressure was only eased by close proximity and their near constant physical contact.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

As they made their way into the bathroom and Allison began blindly groping for her toothbrush, Remy found another excuse to maintain their contact and continue making a fuss. As she often did when they were at risk of running late, Remy set herself to the task of saving some time by bringing Allison’s hair under control while she was doing other things. She picked up a brush and began running it through the long aquamarine strands, gently pulling knots and tangles free before preparing to pull it all back. With a quick glance at Allison’s reflection in the mirror, Remy confirmed that the barely contained smile was still just barely noticeable. Again, Remy couldn’t help thinking of an annoyed kitten, significantly closer to content while being appeased but unwilling to admit to any feelings outside of murderous intent. Unable to resist, Remy glanced at Allison’s reflection again only to flinch when she saw aquamarine eyes glaring back at her own.

“You’re thinking it again, aren’t you?”

Remy dismissed the question with a playful shrug as she pulled the brush through Allison’s hair one last time and began reaching for bobby pins. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Allison’s eyes narrowed as she began blindly fumbling for mouthwash, refusing to tear her gaze from Remy. “We’ve been over this. I’m not a kitten.”

“I see.”

Momentarily pressing her lips together to keep her laughter in, Remy responded by gently scratching the top of Allison’s head. To her credit, Allison didn’t give up on her supposed anger easily. At the same time, though, she seemed to realize that there was no hiding the shiver that ran down her spine when Remy’s fingernails found her scalp. Her victory undeniable, Remy took a moment to indulge in a healthy amount of well-deserved gloating.

“You were saying…?”

Unable to keep her true mood behind even the thinnest of veils any longer, Allison’s smile finally began to shine through the dark clouds she’d gathered around herself. She closed her eyes and leaned back against Remy, still valiantly attempting to assemble a convincing pout.

“Shut up and give me more scritches.”

As always, Remy didn’t even bother hiding her eagerness to oblige. It was these tiny moments that brought Allison to life every morning, and that alone was more than enough reason for Remy. It was an unusual thing for her to find herself filling a need for someone in such an intimate way, and the thought that Allison was genuinely relying on her made her heart stutter nearly as much as Allison herself did. Looking at Allison’s contented expression in the mirror, Remy smiled and thought to herself that even in her wildest imaginings, she never thought that this would be how truly caring for someone would look. Seeing Allison’s sense of peace and knowing that she was the reason for it, though, made it perfectly clear that she didn’t need to be familiar with the path to know that she was on the right one.