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Kiss the Words out of my Mouth

It starts, as many things do, with a handshake. Mash is noticing a very specific pattern in her life, these days.

Specifically, it starts with Morgan helping Mash up after a battle. It’s a regular occurrence; while the Queen of Winter rarely lends a hand to anyone, exceptions are made for the people she affectionate. This includes the people who go out of their ways to have tea with her, such as Habetrot, Astolfo, and Mash. Mash takes immense pride in that fact.

She lets her hand lingers in Morgan’s, just barely; only as long as she can get away with without looking suspicious. She knows fully well that any sort of romantic prospect with Morgan is a doomed endeavor, but- let her have this. This is all she asks for. Morgan’s hand in hers.

Today is different, though. Morgan helps Mash up. Mash enjoys the second of warmth she get from the woman. And then-

Morgan stares at her own palm.

“Is… something the matter?” She really, really shouldn’t bring that up- what if Morgan found her out? She’s a smart woman, surely, Mash’s pining can be seen from a galaxy away- but the thought of ignoring Morgan in a time of need makes her sick.

Morgan frowns, ever so slightly. “… May I have a word with you afterwards? I am in need of advice.”

Advice.

This is big. This is enormous. The Winter Queen never asks for advice. To ask for advice is to admit your weaknesses, and Fairy Britain did not allow any of that.

Mash spends the rest of the training session wondering what it could be about. The Fairy knights, perhaps? Or Senpai? Morgan specified afterwards. Meaning this is a matter she wants to discuss in private. What could it possibly be?

As it turns out, no amount of overthinking could have possibly prepared Mash for the actual answer.

“I have been having… emotions, lately.” Morgan explains herself, once the both of them are in the relative privacy of Mash’s room. “They are strange urges I do not quite know how to deal with. I am at a loss as to what I am supposed to do with them.”

Aah. Senpai is usually the one to deal with these sort of servant troubles- they’re the most human person in Chaldea, after all. Still, Mash thinks she can help here. She opens her mouth, ready to speak-

“To put it bluntly, I would like to kiss you.”

Mash closes her mouth.

“I believe satisfying this desire will help me understand it.” Morgan continues, completely unaware of the absolute bombshell she just dropped in Mash’s heart. “So if you are willing, I would like to try that out.”

Oh, Mash knows. This sort of lie by omission must certainly be a sin. She shouldn’t do that- take advantage of Morgan’s memory loss to satisfy her selfish needs. But this is her one shot- can you really blame her? Can you really fault her for wanting to pretend, for a second, that Morgan might love her again? “Sure. Go ahead.”

Morgan nods, then walks up to her. She’s much, much taller than Tonelico was. Seeing her looming above her- it makes Mash feel like her heart is about to pound right out of her chest. Slowly, the witch leans down, and presses her lips against Mash’s.

It’s… bad.

There is no other word for it. It’s bad. Morgan very clearly has no idea what to do with her lips. Her body, her face- it’s all completely stiff. It’s less of a kiss and more of touching a brick wall- and the sensation makes Mash’s heart sink.

Eventually, Morgan parts from her. She’s staring.

“So, uh.” Mash hopes, hopes for her dear life that her trembling looks like embarrassment, rather than being two seconds away from crying. “Did that help?”

“No.” Morgan replies bluntly. Slowly, she raises her fingers to her lips. “I feel… unsatisfied. If anything, I am even more confused as to why I would want something so unpleasant. Did I do it incorrectly?”

Mash winces. “You… kind of did, yeah.”

“Ah. That explains it.” Her face falls back into a mask of neutrality. “My apologies. I am afraid I have not done this in a very long time.”

“It’s- it’s alright.” And then, in perhaps the stupidest move Mash has ever done, she asks: “would you like me to show you? How to kiss correctly?”

Morgan stares. Mash kind of wants to die. Why why why did she ask this what is wrong with her she was doing fine being Morgan’s friend and she ruined it because she can’t get over her own stupid relationship-

“That would be most appreciated.”

---

She doesn’t tell Senpai.

She doesn’t tell anyone at all, in fact. That every once in a while, Morgan sneaks into a room; and, should Mash be free, (for Morgan is a stickler for etiquettes, even now) Mash teaches her the art of intimacy again.

Ah, this is bad, this is very bad. Morgan gets a lot better at this. Is it muscle memory, or perfectionism? Mash doesn’t know. What she knows is this: the warmth of a tongue in her mouth. The pressure of hands on her hips.

Morgan nips at her lips, once, hard enough to make it bleed. “My apologies,” she breathes out, “I don’t know what came over me.”

You want, Mash wants to scream, you want, you want, you desire, you are feeling. This is what came over you. This is what is tormenting you. But she doesn’t; instead, she takes whatever Morgan is willing to give, and prays to god that it will happen again.

She doesn’t ask Morgan if she’s figured anything out. She’s scared of the answer. If Morgan decides her experiment data is sufficient- will she stop? Is it the last Mash will ever feel of her lover? The thought is unbearable. It hurts so much it feels like it bleeds. No, no, she can’t do that, she can’t ask that. All she can do is kiss Morgan with all her soul, and carve that feeling inside her heart.

---

That arrangement holds out for about a month. There is no forewarning for the shift, nothing Mash could have possibly picked on. She walks out of the simulator once, grime on her face, dragon blood dripping down her armor. She wants nothing more than to get a hot shower, but she runs into Morgan on the way back.

“Ah. Sir Kyrielight.” The witch eyes at her. “May I have a word?”

That is, more often than not, code for wanna make out? “Sure.” Mash responds, wiping the sweat of her brow. She expects Morgan to follow her to her room, where she’ll get to clean up, and then, hopefully, get hot and bothered for much more fun reasons.

She doesn’t. Morgan grabs her by the elbow, and pulls her in a dark corridor to push her against a wall.

“Morgan?”

Morgan’s hands slam on either side of her head. Like this, she looks like a bird of prey, like an animal about to devour her whole.

Mash swallows. Hard.

“Is here okay?”

It takes Mash a second to understand the question. “We- we’re in public.”

“I am aware. Hence my question.”

“At least let me clean up-”

“I would rather if you did not.”

The sentence startles Mash into silence. She takes a long look at Morgan. Her face is as emotionless as usual, but her pupils are huge. Her gaze rakes Mash’s body up and down, like one admires a piece of art.

And then it clicks. “You’re into that?”

Morgan blinks. “Into?”

Suddenly, Mash realizes that if Morgan figures out the concepts of kinks and attraction, she might get a step closer to why do I want to kiss people, meaning a step closer to not needing Mash anymore. So she swallows back her guilt, rises her hands to Morgan’s cheeks, and kisses her before she can think any further.

Morgan leaves hickeys this time, a collar of purple bruises all around her throat. She apologies for getting ahead of herself, as she usually does; and Mash reassures her that it is fine, which is true, if not for the reasons Morgan believes. For a week, Mash has to wear a turtleneck. For a week, any glance at a mirror fills her equally with giddiness and sadness.

---

So. Morgan likes knights. Morgan really likes knights. While she still mostly sticks to safe places, there is something about Mash’s post-battle look that make her really enthusiastic. Mash doesn’t know if it’s the sight, the implications of valor, or the smell of blood and iron; this is a fetish Tonelico did not have.

Completely coincidentally, Mash starts to take longer to go back to her room after a rough session. And if she runs into Morgan, well. Who’s to say, right?

---

Mash was always, generally speaking, aware that this whole thing would end one day. That Morgan would finally realize that she can kiss people who aren’t Mash, or maybe that she’d realize that Mash had been blatantly hiding the whole we’re-exes-kinda away from her, or- an extensive variety of disastrous scenarios.

What happens is much simpler, and much worse.

Morgan kisses her.

That much has become a regular occurrence. The kiss is a chaste, quick thing; barely a peck on the lips. These sort of kisses, while rare, still pop up every once in a while.

No. The issue isn’t the kiss.

The issue is that Morgan kisses her in the cafeteria.

During lunch hour.

In front of everyone.

Morgan doesn’t pay it any more mind. She turns back to her meal without a second thought. Completely uncaring of the stares they’re getting.

“Huh. Didn’t know you two were a thing.” Mélusine mindlessly comments.

Morgan blinks. “A thing?”

They’re going to tell her. They’re going to tell her the very basic emotions Mash could have told her about months ago. They’re going to tell her that it is not, in fact, normal to repeatedly make out with a coworker on a whim. She’s a smart woman. Surely she’ll figure out that Mash had been taking advantage of her lack of emotional awareness. Surely she’ll realize that Mash is a filthy liar and a sinner and she shouldn’t have given her the time of the day to begin with-

Mash gets up, her chair clattering on the floor as it falls off, and flees.

---

She spends the better part of an hour crying in her bed. She spend the following one curled into a ball, unmoving. She feels numb everywhere.

It’s over. It was never meant to be to begin with. It’s over. And she might have ruined her friendship with it.

The thought circles her mind endlessly, until she’s forced out of it by a knock on the door.

“Sir Kyrielight,” ah. Of course. “A word, if you please?”

Urrrrgh. Mash does NOT want to do this. At least she doesn’t sound angry- though from Morgan, this doesn’t mean much. Mash can’t read her without the rest of the body language to pick from.

“Mash.” She calls again. The use of her first name is… Mash doesn’t know how that makes her feel. Morgan has never used it to refer to her before.

If nothing else though, it convinces her to get out of bed. “… I’m coming.”

Her plan is simple. She’s going to open the door. She’s going to apologize. Morgan will decide what to do with her. And then, hopefully, she’ll get to keep the fragile friendship with the woman Tonelico had grown to be- though, realistically, she will most likely be relegated to the rank of untrustworthy coworker.

She makes it as far as opening the door.

Here stands Morgan, towering as always, not a single emotion on her face. That part isn’t surprising. The part that is is that, for some reason, she’s holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I have been informed that we have been dating for quite a while now.” She extends the bouquet towards Mash. “I have been treating you terribly as your lover. Let us correct that.”

Mash blinks. The flowers are blue and purple, she registers vaguely. She does not take them. “Are you not… angry?”

“I am frustrated, I will admit. I would have liked you to inform me of our relationship sooner. But what is done is done. Let us move on as one.”

This makes no sense. This makes no sense at all. One plus one equal three, and Mash has never been more confused in her entire life. “I- you can’t just do that, Morgan. Do you even like me at all? Romantically?”

“I am told that wanting to kiss someone is a common symptom of such thing. The other signs I have been described are also things I recognize in me. So I believe so, yes.”

… What? “You told me you wanted to kiss me to figure out why you wanted to kiss people.”

Morgan frowns, ever so slightly. “No? I told you I wanted to kiss you, to figure out why I wanted to kiss you.”

Oh. OH. Oh.

 “I am aware I have been doing things backward,” Morgan continues, “so I would like to take you on one of these so-called “dates” now. I have two tickets for a movie screening, if you would like to join me.”

This cannot be real. This- this is a dream. A fantasy, an illusion. This cannot possibly be real. “We don’t have a movie theater in Chaldea,” she replies dumbly.

“The fairy knights volunteered to decorate the recreation room as one. I figured the movie would be the most important part of an experience in the movie theater. I have selected a few noir movies I think you would like.”

Mash kind of wants to cry right now. She takes the bouquet from Morgan’s hand and hides her face in it to mask her tears.

“Hey, if we’re- lovers. That… that means I get to initiate kisses too, right? And handholding? And all?”

“That would be most pleasant. I am all yours, my knight.”

My knight.

Mash lowers the bouquet, holding it in one hand. And with the other, she grabs Morgan by the back of the neck, and kisses her full on the mouth.

(Ah. Morgan got much better at this.)

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