Yuma wasn't good with fights.

She worked well enough with a sword, knew how to dodge and parry, and to kill. But a battle was easy enough when it was forged in steel and finished in blood. There was fear involved, but beneath that was an almost morbid comfort: you either lived, or you did not. This was a simple truth. Arguments weren't the same. Especially, she found, when it was with someone you cared about. As a rule, Yuma hated confrontations. She had a dislike of social interaction in general: she felt very awkward most of the time, and never knew what to say. Avoiding being caught up in situations where she didn't have to speak at all were better, she found.

Except, well...that didn't work when you had a girlfriend. The argument itself (If you could call it that. It consisted of Yuma trying to apologize, and failing, and Cynthia falling into an icy silence), stemmed from an incident...several incidents, actually, involving very enthusiastic individuals expressing their intention to, we will say, get to know Yuma in rather unorthodox ways. (They were in fact, orthodox in certain circles, but that was neither here nor there.) The unfortunate thing about this was, as aforementioned, Yuma had a girlfriend. This girlfriend had both a habit of being very jealous, and of popping up at the wrong place at the entirely wrong time.

Yuma wondered if Cynthia had one of those muggle GPS devices, and if it was programmed to find her at the exact moment some other woman was making a pass at her. She suspected Cynthia did. It wouldn't have been the oddest thing that had happened. This incident was not particularly memorable: suffice to say it had begun with Yuma gently and ineffectually trying to let someone down easy, as it were, which turned into her feeling cornered and uncomfortable, with Cynthia walking in and ending it with a well placed punch and a possible lawsuit.

The walk back home had been painfully silent, and when they were home Yuma couldn't figure out what to say. So she made Cynthia tea instead, timidly asked if her hand hurt too badly, and was rewarded with a look that would peel the paint off a wall. She slouched against the couch, defeated, and Cynthia sat stiffly at the other end.

Finally, after hours of near unbearable silence, Cynthia said: "You need to be more assertive. If you were, you wouldn't get in these...situations with people. I know you can, if you try."

"Ah, but Cynthia..." No good. She knew she could be assertive too; it was just a matter of bringing it out. And the worst thing was that Cynthia of all people thought she lacked assertiveness. With anyone else, such a statement would be mildly insulting, but eventually shrugged off. With Cynthia it was upsetting.

The question then became one of how, exactly, she was going to prove Cynthia wrong. Simply saying she would work harder wasn't going to do the job this time. So, without really thinking about it, Yuma moved toward Cynthia's end of the couch, and attempted a grab at her midsection.

This ended with both girls toppling off the couch. Yuma nicked her head against the corner of the coffee table and briefly saw stars. "Oh...ouch. That was stupid."

"Um, yeah." Beneath her, Cynthia shifted. Her expression was somewhere between annoyed and intrigued. "What are you doing?"

Yuma blinked down at her, and it occurred to her that she had no idea how to answer that question. Cynthia sighed. "Well, let me up then."

It seemed they were at an impasse. Yuma steeled herself, and decided in that moment that talk was cheap, and that they were doing too much of it. She leaned in and kissed Cynthia. It was almost chaste, barely a brush of her lips against Cynthia's own. Beneath her, Cynthia tensed, but Yuma pressed on, deepening the kiss. Yuma's tongue flicked over Cynthia's mouth, seeking entry, and she obliged eagerly. It became a game now, a fight for dominance. Yuma would normally give in at this point, yield to the other blonde, to the tug of teeth against her bottom lip and the insistent arching of the body beneath her own. But she was going to be strong this time. She pulled away from the kiss, ignoring Cynthia's sound of protest, and moved to pin her arms above her head, holding her still.

Yuma kissed Cynthia along her jawline, bit gently at her neck and collarbone. Cynthia was squirming, twisting against the restraint of Yuma's hands. "Are you gonna let me go?"

"No." Maybe the old Yuma would have, but this new improved Yuma was very determined to keep their position the way it was. It did unfortunately mean that her hands were preoccupied with keeping Cynthia still, which was something that needed to be remedied. "I'm going to move my hands now, but don't try anything."

The look she got for that was very much the opposite of the one she'd gotten earlier, and so she took it as incentive to move forward. She began to very slowly undo the buttons of Cynthia's shirt, grinning a bit crookedly when the other woman sat up to shrug off her clothing. "I said don't try anything."

"I'm not!" Cynthia pouted, and then rolled her hips in a way that made just about any logical thought Yuma had fly out of her head. "I'm helping." She propped herself up on her elbows and tilted her head. "I can't help?"

"No."

"Oookkkaaay." Cynthia shifted just enough to remove the ties that kept her hair in place. "Well, you're the boss."

Yuma's grin widened, just a bit, and she leaned in to kiss Cynthia again. Her hands, meanwhile, made quick work of removing Cynthia's bra. Yuma felt moreso than heard the sound the other woman made against her mouth, halfway between a gasp and a moan.




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Still working...why do they both have to be blonde and also girls.