Pairing: Cordelia/Misty (Foxxay)

Synopsis: Cordelia is naturally composed, but there's one girl who can dismantle her. Behind the scenes of fear and trauma the Coven experiences, she has no one to lean on; it is Misty, though, who finds a way beneath Cordelia's exterior.

Rating: Just eventual smoochies, no smut.

A/N: Ugh. Ugh. I AM SO UPSET WITH LOTS OF THINGS. So, I wrote a short one-shot (approx. 5k words) and found a way to make myself happy with AHS: Coven. I still don't have my own computer so literally the only time I have had to write this is the five-ish hours that I've spent writing this right now. So, here you go.

I.

What Fiona Goode lacked in composure and grace, Cordelia Foxx had stockpiled it in the years of mistreatment and torment by the long-standing Supreme. Cordelia was always stern, but still soft when the time called for it. She had known enough maltreatment to know what she needed to give her girls in order to see them flourish. She was unquestioningly accepting whenever a new girl (though few in these last years) showed up at her doorstep. Fiona would never protect the Coven, so the duty fell on Cordelia (who, at times, felt ill-equipped for the duty). That is why when Misty arrived, she adopted Misty's troubles as her own.

Misty Day had arrived in the midst of chaos and turmoil. The poor girl had been so used to the silence of her own personal Garden of Eden that likely, the witch hunter had destroyed the last shreds of serenity Misty had left, since the whole incident with Kyle and Zoe had already shaken the foundations of Misty's existence. There were many times of late when Cordelia felt more sadness for Misty than herself. Of all the girls she had known, she'd never known a soul who was more deserving of peace and quiet.

It was that first moment of contact that Cordelia saw who Misty was. She saw the lifeless animals brought back to life, heard Misty sing to the plants as she tended to their hydration, felt the unadulterated and childlike wonder at the sight of the Milky Way over her swamp at night. And yet, beyond this, there had been a constant craving for human contact. Misty had lived in fear, despite her joyous days among the plants she tended. She had a great fear of death, having faced it already and been damaged, however subtly for it. The girl had assumed human contact meant eventual death.

And in some very sad way, she had been right. Her contact with Zoe and Kyle had been the first in a long time, with the witch hunters following soon after. For all of this, Cordelia felt a heavy sadness.

Cordelia had been suffering sleeplessness for some time, and it was often that her mind turned to Misty. Her inability to see had caused great anxiety and frustration. She nightly made teas infused with the right herbs, just to lull herself into sleep, but she could never quite drift off. So she pushed her thoughts into other areas – about the girls, how best to handle their current situation, how to protect the Coven – and always at the end it came to Misty. There was so very much to worry about, and yet she felt that maybe the most immediate thing she could do was make up for the way Misty's quiet world had been shattered.

She was brewing another tea, stirring it carefully. Her walking stick dangled from her wrist as she held the mug aloft, sipped at it to taste if it had steeped long enough. The telltale creak of floorboards in the kitchen gave away the presence of another, but Cordelia's sleep deprivation kept her from reacting immediately.

"Miss Cordelia?"

"Misty," Cordelia's tone was amiable, and she noted the rasp in Misty's voice that betrayed the blonde's sleepiness. "Are you alright?"

"It's a full moon. Normally I'd be out lookin' at it but I noticed you ain't been sleepin' the best. I was wonderin' if you wanted to join me in the backyard, look at the moon with me?"

Cordelia let out a small laugh, "I can't exactly look, Misty."

"Oh, I know that. I just meant – sometimes I think that the stars and sky and all that are sorta like livin' things. And even if you can't see 'em, you can feel 'em. Sorry, I shouldn't 'a said it like that."

"I'm not offended," Cordelia smiled, and sipped at the tea before she set the mug on the counter and adjusted the walking stick so it was grazing the floor. "Goodness knows Madison says crueler things. I don't think you're the kind to intentionally upset anyone." She could almost feel Misty smile in response. "I'd like to join you outside."

Other than the vision she had gotten the first time they'd met, Cordelia had not seen Misty's visage. Strangely enough, she wished she could see Misty's face now. There was something intense about the girl, a sort of magnetism that Cordelia felt drawn to. Perhaps the lack of warmth in her own life is what made her crave the warmth of someone who so unconditionally offered it.

"I wouldn't intentionally upset anyone. I mean, that doesn't mean that if a person is deserving, I can't find it in me to be a little vicious," Misty asserted, her voice closer than before. Cordelia had begun to move forward, but was stalled by the feeling of a warm hand at her elbow. Slender fingers wrapped around her bicep, forceful enough to let Cordelia know she'd be guided.

"I have no doubt," Cordelia smiled. "You are a powerful woman, Misty Day. Don't let anything or anyone take that assertion away from you," always the teacher, the mentor, and never anything less, her tone was still a little stiff and formal despite its warmth.

They shared silence as Misty gently guided Cordelia down the stairs. Despite the fact she could not see her, Cordelia could feel a gaze on her as she took each step down, and into the soft grass of the backyard. The cool night air slipped over them and their silence. Even when they came to a mutual stop, Misty did not remove her hand from Cordelia's arm. The press of weight beside her indicated that Misty was leaning on her a little.

"I wish I could bring back your sight, Miss Cordelia. I think it's awful, what happened to you. I mean, I think my swamp mud can heal almost anything, but I'm afraid to go back there since the witch hunter busted in and tried to kill me."

"I'd never ask you to risk yourself for me. It's not as if I've lost everything," her lips parted in a small smile, "and I can see more than I ever could with my own eyes."

She felt warm fingers on the fabric of her shirt, now just below the elbow. Misty gripped Cordelia's arm with her other hand, now leaning on her with more force. For once, she wished should could feel direct touch without being triggered with visions. It was a troubling consequence, but she was certain it was only temporary. Perhaps, eventually, she could find a way to control it.

Misty's gaze was on her again, at least as far as Cordelia could tell. "I know, I just – well, I guess I can't imagine not bein' able to see. Not bein' able to look at the moon or all those pretty plants you got."

"One day, perhaps."

Silence fell between them again. It was the comfortable kind, and Cordelia lingered on the way Misty's fingers toyed with the fabric of her sleeve. She didn't know how long they stood there, or if Misty spent more time looking at the moon or at Cordelia, but it was Misty who broke the silence again.

"You look really pretty in the moonlight, Miss Cordelia. Anyone ever tell you that?"

No, not Hank, her husband, who in fact had turned out to be an enemy. Not boyfriends, girlfriends. Nobody had ever once told her that. And until now, she didn't know it was something she'd ever wanted to hear.

Cordelia's smile was faltering, brief. "No, I don't believe anyone has."

"That's a right shame."

Her face flushed warm, and she tried to hide the fact that she took such pleasure in the attention. "Thank you, Misty. It's very kind of you to say."

As they stood in the moonlight, shifting between moments of silence and regard, Misty told her how the moon looked, how one cluster of stars could be seen if you didn't look directly at it. And despite the fact that yes, Cordelia had seen these things before, they seemed somehow more beautiful when they were described to her now.

###

In her weeks of sightlessness, Cordelia spent a lot of time in the greenhouse wishing she had the ability to see her plants as she could before. Her frustration was never voiced in the company of others. She would touch – carefully, and with gloves – each plant, trying to re-memorize the arrangements and organization system according to use, tried to commit to memory the exact smell of each. Sometimes she cursed, let out words of frustration. For all the knowledge she had gained, she felt as if she had lost some, too.

"You alright there?" Misty's amused voice surfaced amidst all the darkness of Cordelia's world. She had been in the middle of a string of colorful curses.

"Apologies," Cordelia pardoned herself, "I didn't mean for you to hear that."

"I imagine it's frustratin'," Misty had made her way to Cordelia's side, standing close enough for their arms to brush one another. "Here," she took Cordelia's hand gently in her own and guided it to its intended target. "This the one you were lookin' for?"

"Yes, thank you."

"If you don't mind me sayin', you kinda looked like a kitten pawing at the air."

Despite the fact that Misty was making a joke at the expense of Cordelia's current handicap, she found herself chuckling at the image. "I'm sure I look like that often."

"I'm still awfully sorry there's no way to fix it."

"Hush," Cordelia soothed. "Don't worry. Things happen as they must."

Misty shadowed her for a while, asking questions here and there about what plant was for healing, what plant was poisonous. Health and poison were often a matter of potency in the same plants. Normally the silence of the greenhouse was welcome, but if Cordelia was being honest with herself, Misty's company was almost preferable. She didn't want to tell the girl how much she looked forward to their interaction, or the sound of her voice when they gathered for breakfast (or, as it often was, a late lunch). Cordelia didn't think there was any appropriate way to express that. The swamp witch often joined her in the greenhouse, and each time proved to be renewing and enjoyable. It was clear Misty had a similar passion for the art of alchemy and the science of caring for otherwise temperamental plants.

It was approximately three hours later when Cordelia had finally finished cataloging the progress of her plants and answering Misty's questions that the pair sat together at the work-table. "Misty, without my sight it is difficult to tend to everything in here. I keep this room locked. With Madison and my mother acting out various versions of Hamlet and Macbeth, I have to," the exposition was rattled off rather reluctantly. It was akin to confessing her personal frustrations, something she preferred never to do around the members of their small Coven. "I have a spare key, and I'd like you to have it. Just in case I need someone to tend the greenhouse in my place."

Misty's gasp was audible, and her stool clattered to the floor just before Cordelia felt crushing arms enfolding her. "Oh, Miss Cordelia, nothin'd make me happier." Her voice was warm and grateful. Despite the fact that she knew Misty to be very tactile, they had not yet embraced like this. Misty had always seemed a little worried about crossing some invisible boundary between them.

Cordelia was grateful for the abandon, however surprised she was. Her hands had hung in the air, stiff and surprised before she finally reciprocated, letting her fingers hold on gently to the slope of Misty's back. She was, in fact, a little speechless. Something about this kind of closeness and the warmth Misty exuded made Cordelia's head swim.

The embrace lasted a little longer than it should have. Cordelia found her fingers ever so lightly digging into the taller girl's back, and when she realized Misty's fingers were gently twisting the ends of Cordelia's hair she was snapped into reality again. She cautiously disengaged, "Let me get the key," she murmured by way of excuse. Cordelia hoped that the flush on her face wasn't evident, nor the desire to embrace Misty again. She found the key beneath a particular pot, reached a blind hand to find where Misty stood.

Misty's fingers grazed her own once more, and Cordelia cleared her throat as quietly as possible as if that would make the strange fluttering of her heart stop. She placed the key in Misty's hand. "Be sure that nobody finds this. Keep it with you. The last thing I need is to give Madison, or worse Fiona, access to very poisonous plants."

"I won't lose it. I won't let anyone know I have it."

"Good."

Cordelia felt Misty's warmth, though they stood a generous distance apart. She knew by the way her skin hummed that Misty was looking at her intently. "Thank you for trustin' me. I mean," Misty took a breath, seemed to ponder something in silence, "I don't think I've ever had a friend like you before. I know I haven't. You're really one of a kind, Miss Cordelia."

"Cordelia," she corrected the taller girl carefully. She knew, some part of her knew that dropping the formality meant allowing the girl to know her differently than she'd allow any of the others. "At least when we are alone. I wouldn't want the girls to think I'm giving preferential treatment." This last part was spoken mostly to herself, her fingers covering her mouth briefly as her brow knitted.

"Cordelia," Misty echoed the sentiment, and something about the gentle, reverent way in which she said her name made Cordelia swallow.

A moment passed between them, void of physical contact but still palpable and tense, in which the mood shifted. Cordelia felt she should do something, say something, but instead she could only linger on the way it felt to really be embraced by Misty. Nobody really embraced her, nor had they most of her life, but there was something different about the way Misty did. It was encompassing, as if Misty wanted, in some way, to shield Cordelia.

Cordelia was fidgeting with her walking stick and turned slightly as if to do something with the plants on the work table when she heard Misty's uncertain tone inquire.

"Can I hug you again?"

Cordelia had to fight the urge to laugh. There was something sweet about how uncertain she was. Never mind the fact that something different enough had passed between them to make Misty feel that maybe it wasn't appropriate to hug her spontaneously. "Of course," Cordelia chided despite herself.

It was different this time. Misty didn't fly at her as she had when she knocked over the stool. It was warm, hesitating fingertips that grazed Cordelia's arms. It was the weight of Misty's surprisingly firm arms just at the back of Cordelia's neck, gripping fingers at her shoulders as the girl pulled Cordelia close to her.

Cordelia's arms slipped around Misty's waist much more easily this time and rested somewhere in the middle of Misty's back. Her heart rate had sped up just enough to be noticeable, and she thought that maybe she was trembling. Hopefully the younger girl (however close in age they were, Misty was still younger) would not notice.

"I really care about you, Miss Cordelia," Misty slipped into the formality again, and did not correct herself. There was something about this that indicated that Misty was afraid to admit this. "I see the things you do for everyone and the fact you don't ever seem troubled – and I know that means you must feel awfully alone and worried all the time."

All Cordelia could do was tighten her grip, "Thank you, Misty," she whispered carefully. "You have such kindness I almost cannot bear it," it was this last part that fell off into an even quieter tone. How could someone be so compassionate and without demand?

It was a length of time before they parted, with Cordelia carefully stripping off her gardening gloves and Misty cleaning up whatever mess it was they had made in the day's work.

"'Delia?"

"Yes?"

"About my… about my powers. I think I'm startin' to see things, like future things," Misty admitted.

"You are?" Most of the girls had been experiencing a rapid growth of power, as tended to happen in times of great danger.

"Yeah. And I was wonderin' – maybe you'll let me touch your hand? I'm afraid of what I'll see if I try it with anyone else. These girls can be real mean, and even Zoe's got things I'd rather not see."

Cordelia pondered the question carefully, one hand gloved with her usual leather protective glove and the other only holding the limp twin. "I suppose, though you must know I have seen some terrible things, perhaps done some terrible things as well." She held her palm out gently, an offering despite her warning. Part of her hoped that she would once again glimpse Misty's memories, if only to see her face again.

As Misty encompassed both sides of Cordelia's hand with her own, the shocking warmth was enough to make Cordelia's breath catch inaudibly. And then there was a flooding of feeling, of sight. She did not know how Misty felt or what she was seeing, but she did not see the future. She could see Misty's face clearly, the look of uncertainty and hesitation; she could see her own face, brows knitted in curiosity and mild concern.

And there was the awareness of someone else in her mind. Misty, as if some part of Misty probed gently at Cordelia's mind to know her better. Cordelia suddenly felt and knew she was, in some part, experiencing the painful and pleasurable parts of her life again. Emotions long-buried swelled to the surface again, and it took every ounce of control not to jerk her hand away. She felt naked, felt completely and absolutely bared. She heard Fiona's voice – or an echo of it – berating her, calling her craft useless. Her entire life surged and surfaced in patterns of emotion and sound, all the way through this very moment.

By the time Misty let go of her hand, Cordelia's heart was racing.

"Oh," Misty's voice was tinged with sorrow, "Cordelia. Miss Cordelia, I swear you're not alone anymore. I'm so sorry," she seemed to be apologizing for Cordelia's whole life in that instant. Even more surprise as Misty reached forward and gently cupped her jaw, thumb tracing over the edge of her cheekbones. She couldn't pull away. A plaintive and soft kiss to the apple of her cheek further caught her offguard.

###

A week had passed since the incident in the greenhouse, and Cordelia had been sure that no direct contact had been initiated. Misty had not asked for another embrace since, but made a point to be present nearly all the time. They spent time together in the greenhouse – no overtly emotional exchanges happened – and Misty's knowledge-base grew for alchemical ingredients and combinations of ingredients.

She had been so shaken from being so absolutely vulnerable that, despite the inevitable hurt she was dealing, she'd kept a barrier between herself and Misty.

Cordelia was restless again, but thought better of trying to go down to the kitchen. She heard a plaintive knock at the door, and it clicked open carefully.

"'Delia," Misty inquired just inside the doorframe. "I can't sleep, and I need to talk to you."

Cordelia sat up in bed, shifted over, and despite the distance she had tried to place between them, there was nothing that could stop her gut reaction. "Is everything alright, Misty? Are you okay?" She patted the mattress.

The weight shifted as Misty sat down in the space next to Cordelia. The way the covers shifted, she knew Misty had all but climbed under the covers with her. "I'm not, I don't think. I'm kinda upset."

"If it's about the witch hunters, or the Seven Wonders –"

"That stuff is all real scary, but I'm not talkin' about that."

Cordelia fell silent, feeling just a little scolded. Misty's tone held some kind of accusatory purpose.

"You've been shuttin' me out, 'cause of everything I saw in your head. You agreed, you knew I was gonna see inside your head. You're treatin' me like I did somethin' wrong."

"Oh," Cordelia whispered, "Oh, Misty, I am so sorry." She felt ashamed, shook her head. She ran a hand through her hair, a nervous habit she thought long gone. "When you – when you saw into my mind, I felt completely vulnerable. I felt naked, as if it was my first time making love to somebody in the light. It was a frightening feeling and I admit, I've been trying to keep you at a distance but it's only because I am not nearly so used to beingseen."

Misty seemed to contemplate her words. "I know all that, I mean I'm not stupid. I'm just sayin', I thought we were getting' close 'cause Lord knows I ain't close to anyone else here. I feel safe with you and now you're miles away from me."

The admission was enough to make Cordelia feel abashed. She fished around in the blankets and found Misty's hand, clenched into a fist, and coaxed it open gently. Without knowing why, she laced her fingers into Misty's – unafraid of the consequences of direct contact for now – and held it against her chest momentarily, just above where her heart beat. "I'm here, Misty. I cannot apologize enough for the hurt I've caused you," grateful that her Sight did not react to Misty's skin. "I promise you I will try not to do that to you again."

She felt Misty's fingers unlace, and an arm slipped around her back. The hand she'd previously been holding slipped over her stomach and to her hip. Misty curled into her side, and Cordelia tried not to think about how wonderful it felt to have Misty's arms around her. She pressed her cheek to the top of Misty's head and sighed quietly.

"If I'm bein' honest, I feel like I missed you more than anything, and puttin' my arms around you feels like the best thing ever," Misty murmured somewhere near Cordelia's neck and collarbone.

She couldn't think of or justify an appropriate response, so she squeezed her arms more tightly around Misty. After some time, when they were both half-asleep and reclined into the pillows, Cordelia heard herself murmur, "I missed you terribly."

###

Now they shared not only greenhouse time, but frequent nights together. None of the girls seemed to notice, but it was often that Misty stole into Cordelia's room and in one way or another found an excuse to cuddle up to Cordelia. Some deep part of Cordelia hissed about how inappropriate this was, but she could not stop herself.

It was in the middle of the day – all the girls aside from Misty had gone shopping in the French Quarter – the first time Cordelia initiated the first real intimate embrace. She didn't know what had come over her, but she'd tapped her walking stick up each step and carefully made her way up the stairs, following the sound of Stevie Nicks, and budged the door gently open to Misty's room. She hadn't said a word, simply moved across the room despite Misty's perplexed response, let her walking stick clatter to the ground, and slipped her arms around Misty as tightly as she could. Cordelia all but buried her face in the curtain of Misty's hair – which smelled like Chrysanthemums – and pressed the front of her body flush against Misty's.

It had been so unexpected that the taller girl had let out a quiet gasp and stiffened before she wrapped her arms around Cordelia in response. She felt Misty's lips nuzzle close to her ear, "You okay, darlin'?"

Sometimes, in the time they spent together, Misty called her 'darlin'' and some part of Cordelia swooned. Whether it was the younger girl's accent or the intonation, she didn't know. The things she was beginning to feel she absolutelycould not feel.

Feel them she did. Each night she went without sleeping next to the fae-like swamp witch, she felt saddened and as if a limb were missing.

"It is absolutely inappropriate for me to need you so very much, Misty Day," Cordelia breathed.

"Oh," Misty seemed to tremble slightly, and her grip tightened.

"There are times I lay awake when you're not with me and absolutely argue with myself. I tell myself that I shouldn't need you next to me or need to feel some kind of warmth from you, but when I don't feel … the warmth of your hand on my arm or beside me, I start to feel like I'm suffocating, and I should absolutely not feel these things." It was spilling out, and her self-control was crumbling fast. She held on for as long as she could, but as she started to pull away she felt fingers sift through her hair, brush stray pieces of it behind her ear.

"Miss Cordelia," Misty spoke reverently. "This road goes two ways."

Cordelia could've crumbled to the floor. She felt weak and vulnerable, her need making her senses and emotions raw. She was grasping Misty's hand tightly and she felt the taller girl move forward, press her lips to Cordelia's forehead.

"Besides, it's not so inappropriate. I think something special started growin' in that greenhouse. Between us, I mean."

Cordelia laughed at the comparison. She felt a swell of sadness, "I wish I could see your face."

With Misty, she could be vulnerable. She could be human, and could let her guard down enough to let someone else take care of her. She had never once expected this, but as she slipped her arms around Misty's waist again and felt the responding embrace, she felt like the only time she could really breathe was like this, with a witch who'd been reborn in the swamps of Louisiana and come crashing onto her doorstep.

###

Relations between them remained tentative. It wasn't until after Cordelia regained her eyesight that things started to snowball into more than just stolen embraces, greenhouse time, and late night rendezvous.

Regaining her eyesight was almost traumatic. Auntie Myrtle had meant the best for her, but in reality it made Cordelia feel as if she had lost her only gift that could actively help save the Coven from ruination. She couldn't See anymore.

However, she did remember her first day with sight more fondly than any. After finally surfacing from her bedroom (which she had kept locked despite the pain it caused herself and Misty in being apart more often than not), she'd made her way to the greenhouse and unlocked the door, somehow knowing Misty would be there.

She was more beautiful when Cordelia could see with her own eyes. Her hair hung loosely about her shoulders, the curls mixing blonde and brown together in a way that – under the UV light of the greenhouse – made Cordelia want to touch each strand. She wanted to memorize the thoughtful look on Misty's face, her perplexed expression.

Misty looked up as Cordelia stepped in, those eyes lighting up magnificently and a smile breaking across her face. "You're finally outta bed," Misty spoke happily, and moved away from the work table. Cordelia met her half-way, and the pair found solace in another emotionally charged embrace.

"I'm sorry," Cordelia whispered softly. "I needed to work things out in my mind. My Sight was the only thing that … I had to help the Coven. And with Fiona breathing down my neck and berating me, with our former immortal enemy now in our house –"

Misty shushed her gently. "Miss Cordelia, you don't ever have to say sorry."

She pulled away from the taller girl. "Let me see your face," she requested softly.

Misty was grinning as she looked at Cordelia, "Let me see those eyes," she laughed a little. "It's weird, with 'em bein' different colors."

"Don't like it?"

"I like it just fine."

Cordelia found herself smiling wider than she had in at least a few days (since she got these new eyes). She memorized Misty's face, she way the corners of her eyes wrinkled a little when she smiled overly large, her hair and the way it wisped near the edge of her cheekbones. She shouldn't have, but she found herself reaching up to touch Misty's face. "I feel like I have waited a very long time to see you with my own eyes."

"So to speak," Misty's grin was contagious, and she laughed at her own joke. This alone caused Cordelia to cover her mouth in a subtle laugh.

Cordelia's hands had traveled down Misty's arms and now met the taller girl's. Their fingers clasped one another tightly, and the Supreme's daughter felt a sigh of relief well up.

"Mis—'Delia."

She was too enamored with Misty's face, her person, to speak, really, so she only nodded her head.

"What is this?"

Cordelia swallowed. "I'm not sure."

"I mean, it feels – like, important, I guess. Like a deep kinda feelin' I'm never gonna be able to shake."

Her eyes dropped from Misty's face, her gaze lingering on Cordelia expectantly, need hovering just behind her irises. "I can't say that I disagree."

"How's this gonna work? We haven't even – I mean – I think about kissin' you even though I never have, and somehow I just don't think that the other girls are really gonna get it. We've got so much goin' on, I know right now isn't the time, but I'm tired of sleepin' without you."

Her honesty was enough to make Cordelia look up. Her hands were being clasped tighter, Misty somehow incrementally closer. Their eyes lingered on each other.

"And I think – I mean, I feel that maybe –"

Cordelia shook her head, pressed two fingers gently at Misty's lips. She tried not to let her heart race, or the images of Misty's lips kissing her fingers, indomitable lust in her eyes. "Let's not give voice to something we're not sure of just yet."

Misty nodded.

At least, though, they could continue spending time together in whatever capacity.

###

It was Cordelia again who initiated something that crossed the boundary of safe. She had finished cleaning up after dinner, having watched each girl retreat to whatever corner of the house they usually occupied – including Misty, who had shared a lingering and slightly loaded look with Cordelia before retreating to the greenhouse.

Cordelia's heart was racing even as she crossed the distance to the greenhouse, the light from the kitchen illuminating her pathway. She unlocked the door and stepped in, saw Misty wringing her hands expectantly and pacing the way she did when she really needed to say something but didn't know how.

"Cordelia, I can't take it anymore. I can't. I keep tryin' to hold myself back and I know the Coven is the most important thing right now," the frustration in the taller blonde's voice was evident, and Cordelia felt immediately guilty for advising that they keep things relatively safe for a while.

They'd been sleeping in the same bed nearly every night, with the excuse that Madison needed her old bed because the Voodoo Queen was sleeping in Madison's old room. There wasn't a night that they didn't spend together in the greenhouse, or a day that they didn't find some excuse to sit next to each other (thighs touching, shoulders resting against one another with equal force) amidst the impromptu group meetings they had as a Coven.

"I feel like I'm goin' crazy," Misty whispered, and moved forward as Cordelia stalled by the door. The younger girl crossed the distance, took Cordelia's hands and pressed them in her own.

"Me too," Cordelia whispered, the tension in her chest like a knot. Her heart started stammering against her ribcage as she watched Misty take each hand, raise it slowly to her lips. It was the warmth of those lips that was her undoing. Misty kissed each knuckle, carefully and deliberately without breaking eye contact. It broke every rule of propriety, but Cordelia felt too dizzy to do anything about it. The taller girl pressed her lips to the pad of each finger, and each thumb.

This could have been stopped. At this point, she could have stopped Misty, stopped herself. She was quite literally trembling as she withdrew her hands, cupped either side of Misty's face. She lingered this way for a moment, her body shifted closer now than before. Her thumbs crazed the sharp lines of Misty's jaw, traveled to the apples of her cheeks.

She shook everywhere. Her bones quaked in her frame, because she had never once in her life felt this intensely for any human being. The slightly worried look in Misty's eyes, coupled with the intensity of desire and affection, told Cordelia she was not alone.

Before she could coherently form any sort of rational thought or argue herself out of this precarious position, Cordelia pressed a kiss to each of Misty's cheeks, felt the warm breath against her skin as she did so. Goosebumps erupted.

They knew where this was going.

Cordelia broke the space just enough to brush her lips against Misty's, grazing the warm, soft flesh, and feeling the intake of breath they shared. It was tentative at first, an asking sort of kiss that said if Misty wasn't okay with this, it didn't have to happen.

Misty's hands slipped around Cordelia's neck, tangled in her hair, and Cordelia found herself swept up in a deeper kiss than she had intended to happen at this moment. Misty kissed her hard, and Cordelia responded with equal fervor; both were acting out too much pent up emotion and desire. It boiled over between them, sparked the air alive with electricity and kinetic energy.

Notions of propriety be damned. Cordelia used her hips to back Misty against the work table, her kiss becoming more demanding. It was not just affection but unadulterated lust. The taste of Misty's lips became her only focus. It was a hot and heady kiss that quickly burned them both in the places they stood. It was only when Misty's hips rocked forward a little that Cordelia regained coherent thought and broke away, breathing heavily against Cordelia's mouth.

"We have to stop for now," she whispered huskily. "The others will notice our absence."

"For now?" Misty panted, leaning forward and capturing Cordelia's lips. "Does this mean –"

Cordelia cut her off with another searing kiss. It answered all of Misty's questions and more, the way Cordelia's hands grasped Misty's hips and pulled them roughly against her own, wrenching a quieted moan from Misty's throat.

"I think I might be in love with you," Misty whispered in the hot air between them as they caught their breaths. They had yet to consummate anything, but neither had any doubt of the permanence of the bond between them. "Is that okay?"

"Sweet Misty," Cordelia whispered, pressing her mouth to Misty's, staking a continued claim, "I think that's the first time anyone's ever asked me if it's okay to love me."

"I am the sort to do that."

"All the more reason to love you," Cordelia admitted, "I believe I'm tumbling down after you."

"I'll catch you when we get to the bottom." Misty grinned against her mouth, and it was approximately another 20 minutes before they would be able to wrench themselves away from one another long enough to go inside and make their appearance seem normal.