Permanent

Chapter 6

Maleficent prides herself on her self control as much as her impeccable nails (each one dutifully filed to a dagger-like point, maintained on a bi-weekly basis by a friend of hers at a salon just down the street from The Moors) which is the only reason she has not started gnawing at them, though her nerves have certainly pushed her to that point. More than once she has to tear her hand away from her face and flatten it on the desk or wrap it tightly around a pencil just to stare blankly at the paper with her bottom lip wedged between unforgiving clamps of teeth. Even with the radio on and the familiar buzz of tattoo machines and conversation in the next room, Maleficent's mind is in an entirely different place; a rainy porch, with a storm above her head and a quivering blonde in her arms.

The scene projects itself on her eyelids every time she blinks like a film that has been overexposed. The sunlight of Aurora's hair and the ponds trapped in her eyes are brightly charged against the washed out sky, a painting in color in a world of black and white. Long after the storm had passed Maleficent could feel currents of electricity follow the length of her veins. Gods, even the taste of her haunts Maleficent whether she's awake or asleep.

Aurora's persistence, too, was something to be admired. The day after their walk - date - the texting began, and when Maleficent's inner turmoil could not bring herself to reply, it was followed a few hours later by a phone call. Normally this would drive Maleficent right up the wall; if she wanted to converse, she would initiate it herself. Diaval and her employees and the few select friends she has understand this. They had learned early on that she did not tolerate being pestered. With Aurora, however (like most things, Maleficent is discovering, when it comes to her), it is different, which is new and terribly frustrating.

As soon as Aurora is out of sight, Maleficent loses her nonchalance, fuck-it attitude. It's like Aurora casts a spell on her every time she shows up - or Aurora

the spell. When she's there, it is easy to like her, to touch her and look at her and kiss her. It is very, very easy to kiss her. But the minute Maleficent is alone again it's like being blinded after staring at the sun for too long; it is black once more, and everything looks so much worse in the dark.

She has not answered any of Aurora's attempts to meet up again, to chat, nothing. She doesn't want to think about the why. There are a hundred, thousand reasons why.

A splintering crack draws her glazed eyes out of the past, focusing instead on the broken pencil in her grip. With too much effort, Maleficent uncurls her fingers and the pencil, snapped into a capital L, falls flat against the blank paper.

"Uh, you alright?"

She doesn't have to look up to know it's Diaval, being nosy as usual and standing in the doorway of her office. Not looking at him, she slides her chair in the opposite direction and opens a drawer at random, searching for a new utensil. "How's the raven?" She asks, easing the drawer closed once she's found her prize. Only then does she look at him, and one of his multiply studded eyebrows is curving like a question mark on his forehead. Maleficent mirrors the gesture.

"Fine," he says, eying her pointedly. "Are you sure you're -"

"Diaval." Keeping her face carefully neutral, Maleficent juts out her chin. "Close the door, would you?"

His grin is about as smart-assed as it can get. "Fine." He steps into the room and pulls the door closed behind him.

Maleficent sighs. "That is not what I meant, and you know it."

"I also know that you haven't talked to me all day," he says, leaning against the door. "Not that you're a very talkative person normally, but even this is unusual for you."

"This, meaning?"

He points to the broken pencil. "That, for starters."

She frowns, opens her mouth, and then closes it again. She taps the tip of the new pencil against the desk, peppering the surface with graphite. It wasn't like she had not spoken of her dating history with Diaval before. In fact, he was probably the only person privy to her more personal activities, and he certainly was not shy about sharing his experiences, either. But this - whatever it was with Aurora - was not like her past relationships, if that word could even be applied to the types of dynamics she generally maintained with whom she was involved. She did not go on typical dates, she did not take pictures with waifs on the seaside, she did not walk her dog with them, she did not kiss them in public in the rain.

Her life is not a Disney movie, god damnit.

"Well?" Diaval pressed.

Maleficent deflates like a balloon into her chair, defeated, craning an arm over her eyes. "It's foolish. It's that girl-"

A knock at the door cuts her off and makes Diaval jump. He glares at Maleficent like she had somehow magically summoned the interruption before turning to crack the door open. Maleficent turns away, grateful for the opportunity to pretend like she's actually working on something and to get Diaval out of her face, but the relief is short-lived. Diaval opens the door further and steps to the side. When Maleficent looks up for an explanation, her jaw goes slack.

Aurora, in a red dress and silver heels like she just walked out of a Taylor Swift music video, offers something akin to a smile from the threshold of the office. Yellow hair is gathered at the nape of her neck in a loose ponytail. The fingers she had been twisting in front of her come free to give a weak wave.

Maleficent's heart stutters in her chest like an engine trying to turn over.

"Your appointment isn't for another few weeks," Diaval says, but Aurora is not listening. She isn't even looking at him. She is watching Maleficent with nervous eyes.

Maleficent can't think of anything to say, just stares back at her. The girl doesn't look angry, which is what she would have expected had she known Aurora was going to show up like this. She just looks … hurt. Confused. Maleficent's hands clench into fists.

"It's alright, Diaval. I asked her to come look at some edits I made to her design." Her reassuring smile is more of a grimace. Diaval looks at her quizzically, about to question her, but he is silenced by the flick of Maleficent's eyebrow, a somehow dangerous gesture. The man's face clears with realization, and Maleficent knows that she will be hearing about this much later, when they closed the store for the night. Nodding, Diaval motions for Aurora to come in and then slips out of the room, though not without shooting Maleficent a pointed glance as the door falls closed.

Maleficent starts to stand. Aurora's hand flashes palm up, a sign to stop. The older woman pauses, brows struggling to meet over her nose.

Aurora straightens her back with purpose and clears her throat. Her mouth opens and closes as she visibly struggles to prepare herself for what she is about to say. Maleficent feels like she should run.

"Look," Aurora begins, a muscle in her cheek flickering. Her expression, though a bit strained at the edges, is firm. "I know I'm young," Aurora continues, the speech flowing through her like she had rehearsed it many times. Maleficent wonders if she had sat in her car outside, reciting. "I know you probably think I'm immature. I know I'm a client. But we crossed a line the other day and you seemed fine with it. I certainly was." A blush like a sunrise crawls across her cheeks. She does not allow it to disrupt her. "I'm happy with casual, but I won't play hot and cold with you. I like you. I want -" Aurora hesitates, apparently losing her place. She is looking hard at Maleficent's eyes, trying her damndest to appear solid, but becoming lost in the golden lenses that are intently watching her. "I just want to have fun with you," she finishes, leaning her back against the door and staring down at the pointed silver tips of her shoes.

Maleficent's mouth is a desert but her chest swells with words. She stands and this time Aurora does not stop her, though she does raise her pretty blue eyes to follow the length of the other woman, to the very tip of the horns on her head. The office is not large - it takes three clicks of Maleficent's boots against the floor to stand directly in front of Aurora. The space between them is just a deep breath.

There is not a shred of Stefan in Aurora's face. It's easy to pretend that this is not his daughter, that the young woman before her holds no ties to a life and a man Maleficent had spent the past two decades erasing from her memory. Maybe she can pretend. Even if it is not forever, even if it is inadvisable, unconventional, taboo - isn't that what Maleficent embodies, anyway?

I like you. The words ring in Maleficent's ears. Stefan had taken so much from her back then. She'd be damned if she let it continue now.

Besides, it's not like this is or ever will be love. Maleficent believes in no such thing.

"You know very little about me, Aurora." It is Maleficent's turn to raise a hand in a silent command when Aurora's lips part to protest. "I can count on one hand the amount of times we have been together, even less that we have been alone." She watches Aurora's lips press together in a straight line. Her eyes jump between Maleficent's. She thinks the girl might be holding her breath. "As far as you know, I don't care about you at all."

Air hisses through Aurora's teeth. Maleficent can tell she's trying to form a sentence but her brain isn't cooperating, can almost see the misfiring in her eyes.

"I am nineteen years older than you. You are a college student. I own a business. You are a client of my business. Look at you," Maleficent's golden eyes flick downward and back up again quickly, and watch as the pearls of Aurora's teeth press on her lower lip. "And look at me. We are as opposite as they come, not just in appearance. We come from two very different worlds. But you know what I want, Aurora?" She tilts forward and down, low enough so that they are eye to eye. Neither of them dare to blink. Maleficent looks at Aurora's mouth, which has fallen open with her chopped breathing. Her lips are red rose petals begging to be plucked, kissed, and Maleficent runs her tongue between her own lips to keep herself from devouring the girl right that instant. As she drifts closer, she instead turns her attention to the curve of Aurora's ear. "I want you."

When Maleficent places the palm of her hand at Aurora's waist she can feel an earthquake trembling in her bones. If she wasn't standing right in front of her, she wouldn't be surprised if Aurora just fell to the floor. If she's being honest, Maleficent feels a bit weak in the knees, herself.

Maleficent's hand trails up the slope of Aurora's side and she grins against the blonde's ear when she feels her body arch toward the path of her palm, like a flower following sunlight.

Silly girl, Maleficent thinks, because she had been forged of shadows.

"I want you," Maleficent repeats, heartbeat drumming loudly in her ears. She pulls back to look at Aurora's face, now flushed a delightful shade of pink. "In the most carnal of ways. I want you naked and trembling and gasping, laid out like a feast on my bed." Maleficent holds Aurora's eyes, watching them glaze over as her head falls back against the door, as if she had lost the strength to even hold it upright. The hand roaming over Aurora's side slides just under her breast, taloned fingernails pricking at the fabric of her dress. Maleficent can feel the girl's breath stuttering under her touch, her ribcage struggling to expand. The horned woman's mouth curls into a smug grin. They're barely touching and Aurora is little more than putty in her hands. "I dislike people as a general rule," Maleficent continues, keeping her voice even and calm. Her free hand cups Aurora by the chin and gently pulls her forward until their noses nearly touch. "You, however …" Her grin splits to reveal two rows of white teeth. "Amuse me."

Aurora's lips twitch at the corners. She tries to laugh, but she still hasn't quite caught her breath. "Does that mean you like me, then?"

Maleficent's thumb runs along Aurora's jawline. "I don't dislike you. Let's leave it at that."

Something flickers through Aurora's features - disappointment, Maleficent deciphers - but it is gone before it has a chance to cement in her face. Aurora swallows thickly and tries to nod in Maleficent's grasp.

"I apologize for my hot and cold behavior. While I am certainly not new to this game, you make things … different."

One of Aurora's brows perks. "Not the usual player?"

Maleficent nods and finally steps back. The pair take a deep breath in unison, as if being too close had sucked all the air out of the room. Maleficent leans against the edge of her desk, arms crossed, and studies Aurora as the girl slowly comes back to herself. She smooths her hands down the length of her red dress, fingers briefly gathering at the hem of it, and Maleficent's mind is so far gone that she thinks for half a second the blonde might just pull it off, but just as she's licking her lips Aurora releases the dress and takes another deep breath. Maleficent has to give a short shake of her head to compose herself.

They are both on the edge of saying something, something important, when a knock at the door startles Aurora so much she jumps away from it. Maleficent chuckles, still breathless even as she rests an assuring hand on Aurora's arm in passing as she opens the door. The blush on the girl's cheeks rises all the way to her hairline.

Diaval is standing on the other side of the door with a taunting, too wide smile. "Your appointment is here," he says, the large ring hanging from his nose clicking against two front teeth. Maleficent wants to yank it right off of his smug little face, the brat.

"Ah, yes, I'll - I will be right out -"

"I'm sorry," Aurora ducks under Maleficent's arm and slips between Diaval and the door. Maleficent's hand flexes in an attempt to keep it from reaching out for her. "You're busy, just - just call me later, okay?" Aurora smiles with her teeth and takes a step backward, nearly careening into a station of ink, then profusely apologizes. She darts out of the shop surprisingly quickly in those heels of hers.

Every eye in the place is trained heavily on Maleficent. Ducking her horned head, she steps aside and motions for Diaval to come in and shuts the door a little more forceful than necessary. She whirls on the man, who appears quite stunted in height in comparison, but doesn't look half as terrified as she'd like him to be.

"You keep your mouth shut," Maleficent says, teeth clenched.

Diaval smiles innocently. "About what?"

She narrows her eyes dangerously. "Do not play stupid with me."

He shrugs and leans his hip against the edge of her desk. "I think it's cute."

Rolling her eyes, she shoves him out of the way to gather the sketches for her appointment. "It's just fun," she mumbles, not looking him in the eye, pretending to look for something in the stacks of paper that isn't there.

"Mal," he says, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She stops but continues staring at the desk, fingers clenched too tightly around the papers in her hands. "I'm happy for you. You deserve to have fun. Just …" Diaval's hand slips away and slaps against the side of his leg. "Be careful. Don't forget who she is."

Maleficent's eyes close as the door does, leaving her alone once again in her office. Diaval is right. She can't forget who Aurora is, where she comes from, not forever.

She thinks of Aurora blushing in her red dress, trembling against the door, the way the words 'I like you' looked on her mouth.

But, perhaps, she can forget for just a little while longer.