I have to let you guys know that in those moments where couples go to like the beach or the Grand Canyon or some shit and one of them is looking out admiring the view breathlessly and says, “isn’t this beautiful??” and the other is looking at their partner and agrees with them without even looking at the sunset or whatever may be cliche af but I am WEAK for that shit like
The strength to take someone’s hand & look into their eyes, hoping they’ll read your body, feeling the rhythm of a love song they are dancing to. The moment she didn’t pull her hand away/freak out is the moment to take a step and place your lip onto hers. Take a chance. Love is a free falling experience. Hold on and ride.
If “dead lesbians” has to be a trope, maybe Person of Interest and Orphan Black can twist it with “…and then beautifully reunite.” Hopefully without ending the twist by adding “…and then the other one dies.”
They take a train out to
Montauk: there is a number they’ve been following for the past week, who, after
some good old fashioned recon, finally winds up at the receiving end of Root’s pistol.
Lucky for them, he has a beach a house – and a nice one at that - and they end
up crashing for the night rather than making the trek back into the city.
In the morning, Root
finds tea in the cupboard and brings two cups out onto the porch where Shaw is
sitting. It’s late October, and cold, so she wraps herself in a blanket and
curls her legs up when she sits beside Sameen. She shivers a little and Shaw
moves to wrap herself up in the blanket as well, presses warmly up beside Root.
The waves are loud and
the beach is in a cloudy haze, all dark ocean and grey mist. She thinks it’s
done something to her mood, probably, because she’s got this urge to keep
everything silent and still. She looks at Sameen, who’s just the picture of
that, really, as she stares out at the beach in front of them, and Root’s
struck with the urge to lock this moment up inside of a painting, to keep it
away from all outside noise and chaos.
“Okay?” says Shaw
“Mm,” says Root, her
head on Shaw’s shoulder, “let’s not go home right away,” she says, her hands
warmed by her cup of tea, and she lets herself be soothed by the steadiness of Shaw’s breathing, “let’s
stay here a bit longer.”