a kiss on the corner of the mouth, hoping for more but expecting nothing — because how can she? how can bernadetta ever assume? she is scared, always so scared, and not of yuri—no, never of yuri—but of trespassing where she may not be welcome because she would sooner bury herself than do that to them. a repulsive thing like her has no business yearning. (they have already suffered too much.)
so after what feels like ages in some nerve-wracking limbo, of fidgeting with her armored bear stuffy, bernadetta finally ducks her head to peck its fluffy snout. she does her best not to choke and sputter as she flips the plush around and nudges it against yuri's face. ashen eyes squeeze tight, awaiting their verdict. another heart-stopping laugh at best, a noise of irritation or disgust at worst? she can survive either way, she thinks, all because it's yuri.
a kiss on the corner of the mouth, hoping for more but expecting nothing ╱ another kiss prompt
Their laughter is birdsong, head twisting to press a proper kiss back to Sir Bear Stuffy's snout. How sweet of her; how silly of her. If she wants one for herself— if she wants anything, really, that they can provide, and even if she wants what that they cannot— Bernadetta need only ask. Yuri would do anything for her if she asked.
“Bernadetta~” they hum her name with a small, secret smile, a hand coming to rest on the plush's head to gently push it down. Yuri has to tease— it is as expected as the rising and setting of the sun or the pushing and pulling of the waves— affection woven into the lilting syllables of their amusement.
The mockingbird presses the back of a hand dramatically to their forehead, shaking their head. “Look at me, Bernadetta,” they moan in exaggerated despair. “So lonely that I have to turn to a stuffed animal for company!” Even then, they cannot hide the curl at the corner of their lips. “If only someone could help with that, hm?”
Slowly— always slowly, always with enough time to let her get away, if she wanted to— Yuri leans forward. Reaches a hand up tentatively to cup her face, head tilting in silent query. How could she not know by now? She would never be unwelcome, not when it was she who accepted them back into her life with such open arms when they had been prepared to face the gallows.
For all the grace she has extended to them, they only wish she would offer even a fraction of it to herself.
“You can ask,” they murmur, holding her gaze. And maybe there is a part of them that needs her to ask, a part of them buried under all the confidence they'd built up as walls that needs to hear her say it, just to know for sure. “Anything— ask me for anything. The answer will always be yes.”
Anything for her. Only ever for her.
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passes away.................................................................
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“Hello my name is Charlie Slimecicle I am from the US.🦅🇺🇸🎆 Mariana is my bitch wife.👰♀️👰♀️👰♀️We are both leos.♌️ We’ve made mistakes like we both had this beautiful daughter 👨👨👧before he KILLED HER 😁😁😁. But he has a good body 👨❤️💋👨so I always forgive him 🥰🥰🥰😋”
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