Special Episode: Melody
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
Kent’s eyes light up when he pulls the car up to his house and sees the warm glow in the windows.
It means she’s there.
Kent is pretty much always tired. He’s constantly wishing that he didn’t have such a permanently worn-out look in his eyes, but he knows it’s there.
Tonight should be no exception. He had a full day at the flower shop, helped Ellen with her homework and dropped her off at her sleepover, delivered someone’s wedding flowers, then went back to the closed shop and filled out order sheets until the moon was all the way up in the sky. It’s been a long day, and a long night. Like almost all of them are.
But when he glances at himself in the rearview as he pulls into the driveway, the deep exhaustion in his eyes is gone. Where it was, there’s a bright, happy, anticipatory glow.
Her car is in the driveway.
Kent parks his behind it and rushes to get out. Practically bounds up the path to the door, pushed along on a rush of excitement. He can’t remember the last time he had the energy to do that. Makes him feel a little younger.
He’s smiling as he unlocks the house and steps inside, kicks off his shoes.
“Gabby?” he calls out, shutting the door after himself.
He sets off across the living room and promptly trips over one of Ellen’s crayon sets, catching himself at the last second on one of the coat hooks. He curses softly as he picks up the box and sets it aside, grumbling something to himself about having a talk with Ellen about cleanliness.
But the grumpiness is really just for show. He’s very gentle as he sets down her crayons, careful not to break them. He looks at Ellen’s mess, at all of her scattered things with fathoms-deep love and fondness in his heart.
And now there are signs of Gabby all over the place, stirring different forms of those same two feelings in Kent. Her coat on one of the hooks, a butterfly clip forgotten on the coffee table, a book she’s been reading left open on the armchair.
Kent looks around at the signs of his girls everywhere, his eyes glowing again.
“Gabby?” he calls, weaving his way through the living room, carefully stepping over Ellen’s Nerf gun. “Are you here?”
No answer, so Kent lets himself into the kitchen.
He stops still in the kitchen doorway. Forgets what he was doing the instant his eyes fall on the sight before him.
His kitchen table is scattered with notepads, thick binders of paper, and stacks of loose ones. Highlighters and pens. Printed correspondence, neatly packaged proposals, employee evaluations, plans for events, budget amendments, a mountain of things to edit or reject or approve.
In the middle of everything is a cup of coffee, a napkin with a half-eaten peanut butter cookie on it, and an open laptop.
Asleep in front of the laptop, her head resting on her folded arms, is Gabby.
Kent stares at her, his heart hammering in his chest.
She’s still in her work clothes. A flowing white top tucked into a sleek grey skirt, golden bangles around her wrist. Her long black hair has been curled and then brushed out, so that it falls in flowing waves around her face, pooling onto and spilling off of the kitchen table.
But her bangs are pinned back, and Kent can clearly see her sweet, sleeping face. Her little pixie nose and long dark lashes, her delicate features.
Her graceful shoulder blades are rising and falling slowly with her sleeping breaths. Her hair is rippling softly in the breeze from the open window. Her feet are bare, one twined around the ankle of the other. A pen is woven between her fingers, which are resting on a notepad. Like she actually fell asleep in the middle of taking notes on something.
Kent lets out a slow, blissful exhale. Wondering for the millionth time who he has to thank for this woman walking back into his life.
Just when he was starting to feel so hopeless and desperate. Silently, steadily growing afraid that lonely divorcé was going to be his status for the rest of forever.
He seriously didn’t feel sure that he could ever love someone with his whole heart again, given the way it broke after Julia.
And then Gabby showed up.
Kent wishes he could thank someone for that. But it was a stroke of pure luck that some kind, forgiving force of the world brought Gabby right to Kent. Set her right down on his couch that first morning. Beautiful, dumb luck.
Kent sets down his bag, then goes to the kitchen table. Bends down to press a soft, gentle kiss onto Gabby’s cheek. Her eyelashes flutter gently, but she doesn’t wake up.
Kent glances at her laptop, which is casting its soft glow over the table, then does a double-take when he sees what’s pulled up. It looks like the unedited video footage of the event Gabby went to earlier tonight.
She’d been invited to participate in a televised, informal kind of debate for a news organization, set to air later in the week. A ‘conversation’, they called it. Kent wanted to go with her, but she had to go out of town for the filming, and he couldn’t leave Ellen or the shop.
It made him ache that he couldn’t be there for her in person. Gabby is usually a blazing fire of confidence, but she was nervous about this one.
“I just like for things to have a clear agenda, so I know that I’m prepared,” she explained, curling up anxiously on Kent’s lap after she got the email. “They just said ‘a back and forth on policy issues’. I don’t know what that means. And they probably pulled my name for this because I’ve instituted some controversial policies at City Hall. They might ask me to defend them. What if I’m not-?”
“You will be,” Kent had interrupted, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose into hers. “I know you. You will be.”
She had smiled and cuddled up into him, but he could tell that she was still nervous.
It was an unusual reversal of things. Kent is the worrier of the two of them, constantly fretting. But about this, he wasn’t nervous at all. He felt perfectly calm the whole day and night.
He texted her right before she went on. Good luck out there, angel. But he knew she didn’t need any luck. Not Gabby, not if he knows her. Not even when she’s nervous.
Looking down at the paused video, Kent doesn’t see a single sign of Gabby’s nerves. She’s sitting poised in her chair, her legs crossed and her back straight, her chin held up. She’s wearing the same thing she’s asleep in right now, and she looks beautiful.
There’s a calm, confident smile on her face.
Her opponent Mike Lyons, on the other hand, is tensed up in his chair with an irritated look in his eyes, one hand frozen in the act of smoothing down his suit.
Kent laughs softly. Looks like things weren’t going too well for Lyons. Funny, he’s the City Manager of a different, much bigger town, and when Gabby looked him up, they found he was a favorite debater and spokesperson within his circles.
Seems like none of that was enough to help him against Gabby.
Kent nibbles his lip, glancing down at Gabby. She sleeps deeply when she’s knocked out like this. He doesn’t think he’ll wake her up if he plays the video, and he’s dying to know how it went.
The entire thing is two hours long, but Gabby had it paused at a place close to the end.
Kent turns down the volume a little bit so that he doesn’t wake her up, then presses play.
“-that we’ve reached the last question,” the moderator is saying, from his seat between Gabby and Mike Lyons. “We’re going to step back from more niche policy matters and look at a topic that’s increasingly a larger part of policy debates. Ms. Soto, you’ve spoken out on the topic of transgender rights-”
Gabby’s opponent sits up with renewed energy, smiles like he’s been looking forward to this one. Kent takes in that smile and tenses up with instant dislike. He instinctively spreads a protective hand on Gabby’s back.
“-so perhaps you’d like to lead off this portion of the debate,” the moderator goes on, gesturing to Gabby. “Certain policies that you’ve enacted-”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gabby cuts in smoothly, holding up a hand at the moderator. “I won’t be debating this topic, Henry. I would have told you that in advance, if I’d known it was on the agenda.”
There’s a brief, startled silence in the recording studio. Henry pauses, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion, then glances down at the tablet in his hand like it might have an explanation for him.
Gabby’s opponent recovers more quickly, sitting forward in his chair with a smug smile.
“I’m surprised to hear that, Soto,” he says, his unfriendly eyes leveled on Gabby. “I was told you’re a hard-hitter on this particular issue. Don’t tell me you’re afraid to debate me, or to defend your own policies against me? Maybe I should be flattered.”
Gabby’s eyes had still been on Henry, but now they very slowly move to her opponent, unblinking.
“Afraid to debate them?” she repeats, in a perfectly steady voice.
“Oh, Lyons, you dumb, unfortunate bastard,” Kent murmurs beneath his breath, breaking into a slow smile.
“No, I’m not afraid of that.” Gabby smiles, tilting her head to the side. “But I am afraid that you’ve misread the situation, Lyons.”
Kent sucks in a sharp breath, now grinning from ear to ear.
“I won’t debate this topic because trans rights shouldn’t be treated as something that’s up for debate,” Gabby goes on, her unwavering eyes fixed on Lyons. “It’s my opinion that framing the issue as a debate can be harmful. It’s a favorite format of the mainstream media for this particular topic, I know. It allows them to cover trans rights without ‘taking a side’, so to speak. But in reality, it presents transphobic ideas and the push for trans rights as two things that deserve equal consideration. As equally valid points of view. It ultimately broadcasts transphobic ideas to the public, regardless of who walks away as the winner.”
Henry shifts uncomfortably in his seat and glances hastily at the camera, maybe thinking about how that’s what this particular media outlet is doing. But Lyons shakes his head, a triumphant expression on his face like he’s caught her.
“So what you're saying is that my point of view, a view shared by many people in this country, is completely invalid? You’re ready to write off everything I was going to say, without even giving me the chance to debate it with you?”
“If your point of view is to withhold the rights of trans people from them,” Gabby says calmly, “Yes.”
An uncertain pause follows this.
Lyons looks like he was expecting Gabby to backtrack, after which he could chase after her. His expression makes him look like someone just unexpectedly closed a door in his face.
“The human rights of minority groups are simply not up for debate,” Gabby continues, with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Henry, would this program ever host a debate about whether or not a specific ethnic group deserves human rights, and invite someone to openly argue for the opposition?”
“No,” Henry answers instantly, taken aback.
“No,” Gabby agrees, with a nod of her head. “But an open debate about whether trans people deserve their rights is considered fine. Because, unfortunately, transphobia is one of the most widely-accepted forms of prejudice in the public sphere, and therefore often the most outright and overt in the media. The way that race is handled by the media is also a serious problem, of course. But I’m sure you understand the point I’m trying to make. And why I won’t debate this.”
Lyons settles his elbows on the armrests of his chair and laces his fingers together as Henry awkwardly runs a hand over his hair, floundering for an answer.
“If your people want assimilation into our society, Soto,” Lyons says stiffly, “You have to be willing to talk to us. I’m sure you’d agree that’s reasonable.”
“Oh, I think it’s an extremely inaccurate generalization to say that all trans people are seeking assimilation into conventional power structures and social structures, especially ones that have oppressed them. There are those of us who seek to reshape those structures, instead. It’s an overgeneralization to say that all trans people want the same things, at all. We’re all individuals, with our own stories and our own goals. Just like you.”
“You’re saying there’s no common agenda?” Lyons asks, in a voice heavy with sarcasm.
“No, I’m not saying that. I suppose there are a few things I think we can safely say every trans person does want.” Gabby counts them off on her manicured fingers. “To not have our privacy invaded upon. To not have the constant feeling of living on the front lines forced upon us. To not have violent hands laid on us. To be treated with respect, kindness, equality, and humanity. Isn’t that what you want for every citizen of the town you manage, Lyons?”
She pauses thoughtfully, then adds - “Maybe the real question is, why do we have to ask you for that, in the first place?”
Kent finds himself grinning like an idiot down at the laptop, the side of his fist pressed to his mouth. Lyons is slowly turning red in the face with frustration, shifting around in his chair. Gabby, meanwhile, is still the perfect picture of effortless calm.
“I look out for the people in the town I manage,” Lyons answers sharply, in an agitated voice. “The folks who don’t want to see their confused kids misled into going through irreversible, unnatural medical procedures!”
Gabby tips her head back and lets out a soft sigh. “Oh, come on, who are we kidding? The fact is-”
Kent doesn’t hear what the fact is. He’s staring at the tiny figure of Gabby on the laptop screen, his heart staggering over itself in pure admiration.
What is it exactly that shines through in her voice, her posture, her eyes? Kent can’t quite say, but it’s something. Gabby is the smallest person on the stage, but she’s holding her own space, holding the rapt attention of everyone.
There’s something about her bearing that makes her into a lioness, even when she’s sitting still. A core of pure strength and determination and passion.
It streams out into the melody of her bright, earnest voice. It resonates through her every word, in every intonation, through everyone in the room. She sits with her head held up, shoulders thrown back, unshakeable. Her eyes are full of light as she speaks, shining with her inner fire.
Kent has to actively force himself to stop staring at her and actually listen to the debate.
“There’s a reason why there are laws about this,” Lyons is snapping at Gabby. “It’s to protect our families, our kids.”
Gabby tilts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. “From what, exactly?”
He hesitates, falters under her gaze.
“From an - an attack on the - core beliefs of - the - listen, the American people have made it clear that-”
Gabby straightens up, lets out a disappointed sigh. “Frankly, I’m surprised at you, Lyons.”
Lyons draws back and stares at her, startled. Spreads his hands, waiting for an explanation.
“Your platform is all about small government.” Gabby is speaking slowly, like she’s explaining something that should be incredibly simple. “Do you mean to tell me that you believe we should hand control of our very identities over to the state? Put our bodily autonomy into their hands and let them make our medical choices for us? Allow them to police the things we wear, the people we love, the names we call ourselves by? Isn’t this an issue for everyone, not only the transgender community? Is that really something any of us should compromise on?”
Lyons runs a hand through his silver hair in exasperation, his mouth twisted into a dark frown.
“That’s your whole idea, essentially.” He’s practically glowering at her as he speaks. “Refusing to compromise.”
Gabby shrugs, then lets out a little laugh. “Sure, you could say that. About some things, that’s true.”
“But refusing to compromise won’t get you far in politics, Soto,” Lyons says, in a flat, hard voice. “You’ll learn that when you’ve been doing this as long as I have.”
“I don’t care,” Gabby answers firmly. “I’m not willing to compromise on this matter.”
“You’ll lose the support of a lot of people that way.”
“True,” Gabby agrees, calmly holding his gaze. “But at some point we all have to decide whose support we want to keep.”
There’s a resounding silence on the recording set.
Lyons doesn’t answer for a moment. It seems like he’s scrambling. The silence stretches on for a few seconds longer than comfortable.
“You won’t even debate it with me,” he blurts out abruptly.
Gabby and Henry both wait, looking at Lyons, clearly expecting him to have more to add to that point. But he doesn’t.
“Right?” Gabby prompts him, in a tone that implies she’s waiting for him to give her something worth responding to.
“How are we supposed to get anywhere on this issue if you won’t even engage in a discussion with us?”
“Oh. I’m willing to have a more nuanced discussion with you about the trans experience. Just not a debate about trans rights.” Gabby spreads a hand at him again, this time with an encouraging nod. “If you have a piece of trans history, trans art, music, literature, or film, or a conversation you’ve had with a trans friend or colleague you want to share… really, any trans story you’d like to talk about and discuss the meaning of - I’m all ears. Name one for me.”
Lyons sits back again, blinking hard. “Name one?”
“Yeah, one of any of those things.”
Lyons flounders for a moment, blinking hard at Gabby. She slowly sits back in her chair, her eyebrows slowly raising up.
"I’m not gonna - there’s - that's not what we came here to do," Lyons sputters, sounding very much on the defensive. “This is a distraction tactic, to put it plainly. I’d like to get back to-”
“You can’t name one, can you?” Gabby interrupts softly, looking right into his eyes. “We’ll get right back to whatever you wanted to talk about, but - just name one, first.”
Lyons opens his mouth, then closes it again, his expression growing darker and darker.
“Maybe you’d like to talk about the historical significance of the Boulton and Park case?” Gabby offers. And then, when this gets no response, “Or we could discuss the life and work of Dr. Alan Hart? Or someone more contemporary? How about Juliet Jacques? I’m a big believer in her work.”
Again, silence from Lyons. A gleam of sweat is shining on his forehead.
“You’ve been very outspoken about trans people, Lyons,” Gabby says slowly. “But you haven’t taken the time to learn even one of our stories? To learn anything about us?”
“Oh, I’ve heard stories,” he says grimly, glaring at Gabby.
“That’s exactly the problem. By your own admission, you haven’t done anything to gain insight into the actual lives of trans people. Which means you came here to reinforce what other people have told you about us, without questioning any of it. Without considering the origins of any of your beliefs about us, or the harm that those beliefs could do to us.” Gabby laughs softly, incredulously, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “And then you act as if I’m acting in bad faith, by refusing to debate the topic with you.”
There’s a short silence, and then Lyons lets out a sneering, scoffing laugh.
“But you kind of did debate it with me, anyways, right? Like I said, you have to engage, sometimes. I got you to do it.”
He says it like that means he won, but it sounds pathetic, and it’s clear from the way he winces instantly that even he knows it.
“Hm.” Gabby thoughtfully clasps her ringed fingers around her knee, looking at him with one eyebrow quirked. “That’s true, you did pretty much drag me into it without my consent. But it’s alright, I’m not upset with you for that. You don’t seem so sure of yourself right now, Lyons, so. Maybe that portion of this debate wasn’t an unproductive use of my time, after all.”
She turns away from Lyons’s reddening, furious face and smiles at Henry.
“Was there another question?” she asks brightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I feel like we’ve covered this topic.”
Kent straightens up in front of the laptop, grinning from ear to ear. He drops his adoring gaze to Gabby, still fast asleep at the kitchen table with her cheek on her folded arms.
“Okay, cut!” a voice calls out from behind the camera. “That’s the debate portion! Everyone hang on and we’ll set up for the outro!”
On the laptop screen, a flurry of people hurry out onto the stage to adjust the set-up and take the chairs away. Kent reaches out to stop the video, then stops when he hears quiet voices talking behind the camera.
“Jesus Christ, she rammed him into the ground and buried him,” one of the producers is sputtering softly. “What the fuck? I thought he was one of the heavies on his circuit!”
“Yeah, but Soto is, too,” someone else answers, half-laughing. “And she’s batting a thousand tonight, holy shit. That was a slaughter. She got him to wince at himself. At what point do we add a KO’d graphic?”
“Oh, my god. Can we even air this? We’re gonna get complaints. People are gonna say it wasn’t balanced.”
There’s a brief pause.
“Balanced?” the second voice asks slowly. “I mean - were you listening to what she said about that? We should air it, anyways.”
“Okay, outro!” calls out another voice, cutting off the conversation. “Quiet, we’re starting!”
The camera lines up in front of the three people on stage, now standing, with Henry in the middle giving a few closing comments and thanking the participants.
Kent nearly bursts out laughing at the image.
Lyons is to Henry’s left, barely managing to hide his frustration behind a stiff smile, his suit rumpled like he’s just been in a brawl. He has to unclench his fist to wave at the camera.
Gabby is to Henry’s right, smiling and beautiful. To Kent’s eyes, she looks like the most gorgeous thing on planet earth. And he can tell that she’s trying with all her might not to grin victoriously.
She blows a kiss to the camera before she gives a fluttering wave, her silky black hair spilling down over her shoulders as she leans forward to do it.
Kent closes his eyes for a moment, then pauses the video.
He looks down at Gabby for a long time. Stares at her in perfect stillness and silence.
He’s been glowing with pride this whole time, but now he’s officially overwhelmed. Hit with a breath-stealing rush of deep, hundred-proof, limitless love and admiration. He’s burning up with it. His awestruck heart is stumbling wildly over every other beat.
Eventually he closes Gabby’s laptop, eases the pen from between her fingers. Gently folds his arms around her and gathers her up into them. He switches off the kitchen light with his elbow.
He places a tender, adoring kiss between Gabby’s closed eyes, then heads for the stairs.
~~~
Kent is strangely dizzy as he carries Gabby upstairs. So vividly awake and aware that things are coming as a surprise to him. He hears with sharp clarity the rustle of the breeze through the treetops outside, the chirping of the crickets, the muffled sound of each step he takes up the stairs. Every breath he takes seems to flood his body with oxygen, and he can taste the green spring night on the air.
The sensation of Gabby cozied up in his arms, that’s what it is. Her warmth, her slow breaths, her hand curled on his chest. That deep tiredness within Kent has melted away, purely because he needs to feel all of these things in their entirety.
“You wake me all the way up,” he whispers softly, down at Gabby’s sleeping face.
She turns her head slightly, nuzzling her nose into his chest. Kent pauses on the step for a second to stare down at her, his heart bathed in happiness.
He finds himself singing softly beneath his breath as he steps out onto the upstairs landing. Some random song that was playing on the radio on his drive home from the shop. He’s getting the lyrics wrong, but whatever. He just needs to let out some of this feeling in his chest.
He goes to the bedroom and very gently lays Gabby down on the bed. Then he straightens up and takes off his watch, still singing quietly to himself.
He sets his watch on the dresser, then pauses, realizing that Gabby’s eyelashes just fluttered. Actually - she’s fighting down a smile, trying very hard not to let it turn up her lips.
Kent smiles, too, then places his hands on either side of her head on the bedding, leans down over her to murmur into her ear.
“I know you’re awake, Soto.”
She breaks into a grin, then giggles softly, keeping her eyes closed.
“I didn’t want you to stop,” she whispers, then spreads her hands out, feeling the blankets. “Am I in the bed? Did you carry me upstairs? You didn’t have to do that.”
Kent presses his nose against her neck affectionately. “I wanted to.”
“Okay.” She giggles again, reaching up to fold her arms around his neck. “As long as you don’t expect me to take a turn carrying you anywhere.”
“You carry me all the time,” Kent laughs softly, drawing back to look down at her. “You know that.”
Gabby stops laughing and bites her lip, gazing up into his eyes. Blushing a little bit. She crinkles her nose at him, shakes her head.
“God, I’m happy to see you.” Her sweet, low voice is still warm with her laughter. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you after the debate. I had some meetings over the phone on the drive back, and now I’ve got so many things I put aside that I need to finish. Actually, there’s an email I really should send - is my laptop up here?”
She starts to sit up, already looking around for it.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Kent catches her around her waist, holds her to himself with one arm, and climbs further onto the bed, taking her with him. “I’m not gonna let you.”
“Kent!” she laughs, as he drops her onto the middle of the bed. “I need to-”
“No, you’ve done more than enough for one person in one day, Gabs! You fell asleep at your laptop. That means you’re done.”
She lets out a quiet groan, tipping her head back. “Ugh! I can’t believe I did that. Why am I so tired?”
Kent pauses, then lets out a soft laugh, staring into her eyes. Gabby’s gaze blinks up to his, caught by surprise.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing, just…” Kent shrugs his shoulders, helpless with love. “You’re out there trying to take on like five hundred king-sized challenges at a time, accomplishing them like a fucking champion, powering your way through stuff that most people do in big teams over the course of months - and then when you stop for a second, you’re like - that’s weird, why am I tired?”
He drops his forehead onto Gabby’s, breathes out another laugh.
“That’s just very you,” he adds. “You’re so unstoppable you don’t even notice half the battles you win, anymore.”
Gabby breaks into a big, slow smile, her cheeks rounding out with it.
“Stop it, Kent,” she giggles, reaching up to stroke his cheek.
“No,” he answers, very seriously. “I’ve gotta say it, or I’ll die.”
Gabby lets out another burst of laughter, turning her face aside, half-hiding it in her hair. The vivid blush in her cheeks is growing darker, one of Kent’s favorite things to watch happen.
“I’m so goddamn wild about you,” he sighs happily. “And I say that having watched you kill a man on TV tonight.”
“Kill a-?” Gabby begins in confusion, then understands all at once. She lets out a startled laugh and sits up on her elbows, watching Kent as he goes back on his knees and unzips the side of her skirt. “Did you watch some of it?”
“Mhm.” Kent slides her skirt all the way off and tosses it aside. Kisses her thigh, then starts eagerly undoing the buttons of her top. “Yep, I did.”
“Please tell me it wasn’t obvious how nervous I was,” Gabby says, nibbling her lip anxiously.
“You-?” Kent stops what he’s doing and stares down at her in disbelief. “I thought you must have gotten past the nerves before you got on stage. You’re telling me that was you nervous?”
He lets out a tiny, incredulous sound when she nods in confirmation.
“You are really good at not letting it show when you’re nervous,” he informs her, amazed.
“Comes from years of practice,” she laughs, but a worried look flashes through her eyes. “Seriously, though, Kent, how do you think I did? I’m afraid they’re going to say I didn’t let him talk enough, but there were a few times where I waited and he just didn’t say anything-”
“Because he couldn’t come up with an answer,” Kent points out, undoing the last button on her top.
“Yeah, so I just kept going. I’m so done with being quiet. But maybe I should have-”
“No, you shouldn’t have. Whatever you would change, it’s good that you can’t.” Kent kisses the tip of her nose, then draws back to look into her eyes, to let her see the sincerity in his. “You were perfect, Gabby. You were - powerful.”
Gabby blinks, then stares up at Kent, biting back a smile.
She laughs as he hastily drags her flowing white top off of her.
“What are you doing?” she asks, little flames sparkling to life in her eyes.
“Here we go-” Kent tosses the top onto the dresser, far out of reach, leaving Gabby in her panties and bralette. Then he pins her wrists down on either side of her head, keeping her firmly in place. “There. The work clothes are gone, so work mode is over. Turn that brilliant brain off and let it rest. You’re not the City Manager right now, you don’t have to represent anyone or anything. You’re Gabby.”
He leans down to brush a soft kiss onto her mouth.
“My Gabby,” he adds, without meaning to.
But saying it kindles a flame of happiness in his chest. He can’t pretend it doesn’t warm his pride, to have a woman like her love him.
Gabby is staring up at him, suddenly silent. A warm, complicated expression is moving in her moonlit eyes. He still has her pinned by her wrists, but she hasn’t tried to move them. She doesn’t move at all. She looks like she’s holding her breath, for some reason.
Kent gazes down at her, full of love and desire. Letting his eyes do a slow, meticulous journey over her. He’s convinced that he could never get enough of this sight. He could spend an eternity appreciating each and every individual beauty of her body. Every detail. Any little one he starts with leads him to the next, through an endless universe of things to adore.
Her tumbling dark hair is pooled around her shoulders, flowing with moonlight. She’s taken off her lipstick, but it stained her lips, and they’re still as red as cherries. The golden bracelet is still around her wrist, and it’s left a faint imprint in her skin. The glow of the lamp spills across her mostly bare body. Warmer and richer everywhere it touches her.
She’s looking up at Kent with her intense, intoxicating eyes full of liquid light, like a heat shimmer. Her breaths are heightened, scarlet lips very slightly parted. Her cheeks are blushing so brilliantly that her face is haloed with a soft glow.
She looks like fire and honey and velvet and richness, stretched out on the soft darkness of the bed.
Kent can barely keep himself upright, staring down at her. Something in his heart sinks him towards her magnetically, makes everything but her go dim in his mind. He just looks and looks, admiring her with all his heart, drinking her in -
“I’m nervous,” Gabby blurts out suddenly. And then, when Kent blinks at her, “You said you can’t tell when I’m nervous, so I thought I’d let you know.”
“You’re nervous?” Kent repeats, taken aback. He lets go of her wrists, draws back a little. “About what?”
The beginnings of a mounting wave of worry start to rise in him. He and Gabby have been in this situation many times before, so he can’t guess why she’d suddenly be nervous about it…
But Gabby smiles up at him, the blush in her cheeks darkening.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs softly, curling her arms around herself. “You’re - you’re so fine, first of all-”
Kent breaks into a giant grin, then pauses in surprise as Gabby goes on.
“And sometimes you just look at me for so long, you get me all - all shy again.” She shakes her head slightly, making her hair ripple around her shoulders, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m trying not to start picking apart every detail of myself you’re looking at.”
Kent lets out an amazed laugh. “Really?”
Gabby’s eyes go back to his face, startled at his reaction. She nods slowly, uncertainly.
“That’s funny,” Kent murmurs, smoothing a strand of hair back from her face. “If you knew what I was literally just thinking to myself, you’d be feeling the opposite kind of way. Your ego would blow the roof off of this house, if you knew what I was thinking.”
Gabby draws back, blinking hard, then lets out a burst of startled laughter, her eyes closing with her shy smile. “Yeah, okay!”
“Come on, baby, why do you think I’m always looking at you so long?” Kent breathes out a soft laugh, tracing his fingertips over her ribs, not bothering to hide the rapt expression in his eyes. “I don’t know what it is. You're just made different. I can’t help myself.”
Gabby pauses, looking up at Kent with her soft, warm eyes very wide. Then she blinks hard, quickly breaking her gaze away. She laughs softly and turns her head, trying to hide her face in her hair again.
Kent stares down at her, struck with a sudden, curious sensation of perfect familiarity. Of seeing this somewhere before.
His memory suddenly puts him back in a high school classroom, at his desk. He remembers glancing over his shoulder at the quietest person in the whole grade - the whole school. The small, slender, unbelievably shy one, always in the back of class, black hair knotted in a little bun. There was always one strand of long jet-black hair falling free, and Kent always got the feeling that Soto was trying to hide behind it when their eyes met.
He looks down at Gabby, spread out on the bed beneath him, trying to hide her face in her hair. His heart swells in his chest.
“So funny,” he murmurs, stroking Gabby’s shoulders with his thumbs. “When you get shy like this, I can see the person I knew in high school, like - so clearly.”
Gabby’s eyes flutter open. She looks up at Kent sharply, then quickly sits up on her elbows. She opens her mouth, closes it again, and then closes her eyes, holding very still.
“You know, I always thought there was way more to you than you were letting show. Guess I never told you that.” Kent winds two fingers through her soft black hair, smiling down into her face. “But sometimes I can’t believe that this is the person who was hiding in there. Blew my fucking expectations out of the water. Jesus Christ.”
Gabby had closed her eyes tightly, but now she opens them and slowly, searchingly looks up at Kent.
He smiles at her, his heart full of warm recognition. In her wide, sensitive eyes, he sees that same unreal depth of sweetness that he saw in them even before he really knew her.
Kent lets out a sharp, pained sound, then drops his head and buries his face in Gabby’s chest.
She breaks into startled laughter, winding her arms around him. “What’s-?”
“God, nothing. Just - now I’m thinking about what you were like in high school, and then thinking about how you were on that stage tonight… you couldn’t even get through a class presentation before, I mean - holy fuck. I thought I was already as proud of you as I could be about tonight, but now I’m dying. And on top of everything, you look so - dying, I’m dying-”
“Kent!” Gabby laughs, squeezing his face into her chest so that his muffled words go quiet. “Don’t take me out with you!”
Kent seizes the opportunity to start feathering kisses onto Gabby’s chest. Her laughter stumbles over a soft gasp.
She gives Kent a hard push, and he lets her, falling onto his back on the bed. Gabby sits up in a swift, graceful movement to straddle him and pin him in place, still laughing. Then she lets out a heavy, staggered exhale. Catching the expression on Kent’s face at the same time as she feels the eager response of his body to hers.
Kent can’t help it. He feels drenched with fire, to have her sitting on him like this. Saturated with hungry heat, his feet flexing at the end of the bed.
Gabby very slowly bites her lip.
She looks like she wants to tear all of Kent’s clothes off of him. But he can tell how tired she is, after the day she had. She has a way of making hard-fought things look effortless, but Kent knows how hard she fights. She must be exhausted.
He sits up, sinks a slow, lingering kiss into the side of Gabby’s neck, and wraps his arms around her. He rolls onto his side, taking her down with him. Gathers her up close to him, positioning himself so that her body can fit perfectly into his.
He feels her smile against him, her body melting deeper into his arms. She rolls over and cozies her back up to his chest. Lets out a long, slow exhale.
“Nooo, I’m falling asleep and I didn’t even get to take your clothes off,” she complains, her sweet low voice full of drowsiness. “In the morning…?”
“Yes,” Kent says firmly. “In the morning. I’m begging.”
Gabby breathes out a soft laugh. “You definitely don’t have to do that. But maybe don’t stop? I like it.”
Kent laughs, too, burying his nose in her hair. Silence gently falls over the two of them, aside from the wind moving through the leaves of the cherry trees outside.
“Is it at all weird for you, Kent?” Gabby asks suddenly, in a very quiet voice. “Knowing me how I was before, then being with me now? Or knowing that I liked you then? Before…?”
“No.” Kent strokes his knuckles down the side of her body. “I love knowing that you liked me back then. Who cares if it was before? That was still you. Told you, I’m just blown away that this is the person you really are, now that you don’t have to hide.”
He kisses her neck affectionately, then adds - “Beautiful things come from freedom, huh? You’re the walking proof.”
Gabby has been listening in motionless silence, but now she takes in a fast, strange little breath. Kent feels it happen, with her clasped in his arms like this.
“Yeah, I - I think they do,” she stammers softly, her voice wavering. “And you have a way of saying very freeing things, Kent.”
Kent had started to sit up in alarm, hearing her voice come out like that. But at her words he stops, smiles, and draws her a little closer to himself.
A few minutes pass, and Kent feels an anxious expression gradually take over his face. A thought is scratching at his mind, and even though he doesn’t want to say it, it comes out.
“Just so you know, you make me nervous, Gabby. All the time. Definitely tonight.”
Gabby twists to look at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide with surprise. “What?”
“Just, sometimes,” Kent murmurs, not meeting her eyes, “It’s… I see you up on that stage, this incredible kickass leader, and I’m thinking… what the fuck is she doing with me? Like - who am I? Just some guy with a flower shop.”
Gabby stares at him, then slowly shakes her head, reaches back to trail her fingertips over his beard.
“No, Kent,” she sighs softly, smiling, gazing deep into his eyes. “You’re so much more than that. Especially to me.”
She brushes a kiss onto his mouth, then turns away again, yawning sleepily.
Kent watches her with shining eyes. A little confused about what she means, but glowing happily from it regardless. Maybe it doesn’t matter what it means, as long as she thinks it.
Gabby rests her cheek on his arm, breathing deeply and slowly. Kent can’t tell if she’s thinking or falling asleep. Maybe both.
That would be like her, he thinks affectionately. Thinking right up until the last minute.
He’ll get up eventually to take off his clothes and take out his contacts and all that, but it can wait. He just wants to hold Gabby until she falls asleep.
Gabby breaks the quiet with her half-asleep voice. “Ellen get to her sleepover okay?”
“Mhm. But we’re gonna have a talk when she gets back about putting away her stuff. I almost ate it on a box of crayons. I’m glad you were asleep for that.”
Gabby laughs quietly, her voice unwound with sleep. “Well, good. Means your house looks the way you always wanted it to.”
Kent opens his eyes, faintly confused. “Hm? What are you talking about?”
“You told me that since you wanted kids, you hoped your place would be a mess one day.”
“I did? When?”
“In high school.” Gabby sounds only half aware of what she’s saying, if even that. “You told me. When we talked.”
“We didn’t talk in high school, baby.”
“It’s okay, you wouldn’t remember,” Gabby murmurs, her words coming slower and slower. “I wasn’t expecting you to.”
Kent sits up on one elbow, staring down at her in mounting confusion. “No, I would remember.”
She shakes her head no, then giggles softly, shyly. “You were so smooth. It stressed me out beyond belief.”
Kent blinks at her blankly, lost. “I - what?”
Gabby doesn’t answer. Kent waits for a few seconds, then realizes that she’s fallen asleep.
He settles back down beside her, wondering.
High school was a long time ago now, and his memories of it have admittedly lost some of their sharpness. The less important ones have fallen away. What he remembers now is more of a collection of standout moments. Still, he really thinks he wouldn’t have forgotten about it if Soto had up and talked to him out of nowhere.
That would’ve been a standout moment, so. There’s no way it happened and Kent forgot about it.
But he finds himself sinking deep into thought as he lays curled around Gabby. Something about what she said has tugged on a string in his memory, caused some kind of movement.
He closes his eyes and searches through the memories he has of high school Gabby. There are a few, even if they never talked.
He doesn’t find anything that way, so he backtracks and thinks about the conversation the two of them just had. Searching for what it was that sounded so familiar. Sometimes all he needs is a few seconds of the memory to suddenly have the whole thing back. But seriously, when would he and Gabby ever have…?
A soft, shy giggle of laughter flutters through Kent’s memory.
Followed swiftly by a white dress. A fall of wavy dark hair. A sweet, pretty face lifted to him, eyes full of light.
Kent’s eyes fly open. He holds very still for a long moment, then slowly sits up on his elbow again, staring down at Gabby. Her peaceful face resting on the pillow, surrounded by her soft, inky hair.
That was you? he asks silently, wide-eyed. That - was you.
He remembers with a jolt that she came to that concert thing later that night, too. Dressed like she always was at school, so he didn’t make the connection, but…
Kent slowly, wonderingly strokes his fingers over her cheek. That was all you.
He remembers walking away from her house after they talked, wondering why a girl would be made up so beautifully just to stay home. Now, after all this time, he finally understands.
What he caught her doing. Why she felt like she couldn’t let anyone see her.
Except for him. She let him see her. Trusted him enough to do that. Talked to him, the very first time she got a chance to do it as herself.
Kent spends a long moment suspended in disbelief.
Powerful, molten love rushes through him like a wildfire. All of a sudden it’s all he can do not to crush Gabby in his arms, and a sharp, punched-out sound escapes from his mouth, startling her awake.
“Gabby,” he groans in a fractured voice, hugging her to him tightly.
“Kent, what-?” she begins, then starts laughing as he starts spreading adoring kisses up her neck.
“Nothing,” he says weakly, barely holding himself together.
Gabby reaches back to gently rest a hand on his jaw, biting down on her smile as his beard tickles her.
Kent is completely helpless, his heart stopped in pure love, too much for him to handle. He’s reeling. He presses his nose against Gabby’s neck and takes a deep breath, trying to coax himself into calming down.
It’s not easy. He spends a few minutes struggling silently before he can get his thoughts back into some kind of coherence.
When he does, some distant melody floats through his mind. Some song he doesn’t remember, hasn’t thought of in ages, but it’s woven into the memory that Gabby just drew out from him.
His thoughts drift over a low-lit coffee shop. Through the crowd of people fuzzed and blurred by the golden lights, a pair of wide, shy eyes watching him.
Kent can’t remember the words, but he begins to quietly hum the melody.
Gabby lets out an automatic, blissful sigh, then suddenly freezes in his arms.
She’s silent and perfectly motionless for a long moment, listening. Then she snaps upright and twists around to stare at Kent, her hair tumbling down over her shoulders.
The stunned look in her eyes makes them almost perfectly round, pooled with moonlight. Her mouth is slightly open, her body trembling, her fingers lifted to her lips.
“Dios mío,” she stammers, in a broken voice, her eyes enormous. “Oh, m-my g…”
She sounds close to tears, and she looks like it, too.
Kent sits up slowly, winds his arms around her, and presses a soft, tender kiss on her mouth. He’s not completely sure what this reaction is, but he knows better than to ask her to explain it. He can’t explain what he’s feeling right now, either.
He leaves his forehead pressed against hers when he breaks off the kiss. She takes soft, uneven, audible breaths, her chest rising and falling fast.
She spreads a hand on his chest, pushes him back so she can gaze into his face.
Kent and Gabby look into each other’s eyes for a long moment, speaking without words, but with many different languages.
Out of nowhere, Gabby flattens Kent onto the bed, climbs onto his lap, and kisses him deep into the pillows.
He lets out a sharp, eager breath, throwing his arms around her, returning her kisses. His face is burning, his nerves lit up by the time she breaks it off and starts undoing his jeans.
“Thought you said we should wait until m-?”
“Fuck waiting until morning!” Gabby blurts out, wrenching Kent’s shirt over his head, her eyes blazing. “I do what I want, these days! Even I can’t stop me, alright?”
Kent laughs and slides his palms up her back, staring up at her with dilated eyes. Gabby leans down to kiss him, and he leans up to meet her halfway. Their mouths melt together, full of hunger and urgency and fire.
Their remaining clothes scatter to the floor. Kent rolls Gabby over on the bed, sinks down between her thighs, and teasingly rocks his hips against hers. A full-body rush of pleasure flares through him. Pure, vivid heat and ecstasy. He lets out a burst of breath against Gabby’s neck, shuddering in her arms.
Gabby puts the back of her wrist over her mouth, smothering the little cry that just escaped her, her cheeks glowing crimson.
Kent looks up, panting, then catches her fingers, tugs her hand away from her mouth.
“Don’t do that,” he says breathlessly, kissing the inside of her wrist. “I want to hear your voice. Thought you’re done being quiet.”
Gabby gazes up at him, her chest rising and falling fast, then lets out a wild, bright, breathless laugh.
“I am,” she answers, her eyes glowing as she draws his face down to hers. “I am.”
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