Work Text:
"Would you please just kiss me?"
Thea stumbles. She's not sure if she's heard right. She rights her footing, turning to look back at the woman who's suddenly stopped behind her.
She's beautiful. Everything about her is gorgeous. A tailored masterpiece of feminine prowess, cunning skill, and lascivious curves bestowed upon her by a goddess.
Eliza Bouchard is divine, and Timothea Stoker is far too aware of how lucky she is.
She won't say it out loud, not yet, at least, but she's so madly in love with her. She smirks, and says,
"You don't have to ask me twice."
