diamond-glitter glass
Jun. 20th, 2019 05:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
intheheartTitle: diamond-glitter glass
Rating: PG
Summary: Coronation eve.
Warnings: none.
Notes: For Isana's prompt, "Ivy/Gina, shoes to die for." Also, not going to lie, partly inspired by nail polish.
The shoes were heavy, diamond-glitter glass, the same crystal blue as Gina's eyes, catching and scattering the light every time Gina lifted her skirts or turned her feet. It was oddly hypnotizing, and certainly regal; Ivy, perched on the edge of her lover's desk, felt as if she should sink to the floor and bow her head.
"Beautiful," she said, instead of all that.
"Yes," Gina said, examining herself critically in the mirror. "I think so." She brushed her hands down over her deep purple skirts, then adjusted the blown-glass crown she wore. Like this she was every inch the queen, distant, untouchable.
Then she turned, met Ivy's eyes and gave her a shy smile, and there, that was Ivy's princess. "Will I do?"
"They'll die for you," Ivy said, quite seriously. "So would I."
Gina crossed the room, her shoes sparkling, and took Ivy's chin in her hand, tipping her face up for a kiss. But she did not give it, not yet; she paused a breath away from Ivy's mouth, and said, "I won't let that happen. I won't."
Ivy smiled up at her, cupped her face in her hands and took the kiss, gently as she could; once, twice, then she pulled away, murmured, "My queen."
Tomorrow it would be deferential, my queen, my liege. Tonight, it meant something different, more important.
Gina rested her forehead against Ivy's, cupped her cheek. This close, her soft little smile was blinding. "My Ivy," she whispered, and meant the same.
Rating: PG
Summary: Coronation eve.
Warnings: none.
Notes: For Isana's prompt, "Ivy/Gina, shoes to die for." Also, not going to lie, partly inspired by nail polish.
The shoes were heavy, diamond-glitter glass, the same crystal blue as Gina's eyes, catching and scattering the light every time Gina lifted her skirts or turned her feet. It was oddly hypnotizing, and certainly regal; Ivy, perched on the edge of her lover's desk, felt as if she should sink to the floor and bow her head.
"Beautiful," she said, instead of all that.
"Yes," Gina said, examining herself critically in the mirror. "I think so." She brushed her hands down over her deep purple skirts, then adjusted the blown-glass crown she wore. Like this she was every inch the queen, distant, untouchable.
Then she turned, met Ivy's eyes and gave her a shy smile, and there, that was Ivy's princess. "Will I do?"
"They'll die for you," Ivy said, quite seriously. "So would I."
Gina crossed the room, her shoes sparkling, and took Ivy's chin in her hand, tipping her face up for a kiss. But she did not give it, not yet; she paused a breath away from Ivy's mouth, and said, "I won't let that happen. I won't."
Ivy smiled up at her, cupped her face in her hands and took the kiss, gently as she could; once, twice, then she pulled away, murmured, "My queen."
Tomorrow it would be deferential, my queen, my liege. Tonight, it meant something different, more important.
Gina rested her forehead against Ivy's, cupped her cheek. This close, her soft little smile was blinding. "My Ivy," she whispered, and meant the same.
