Work Text:
Gabrielle leans forward from the couch with her stomach fluttering wildly. She forces her eyes down, the proximity between herself and Sun causing warmth to crawl up the back of her neck.
She watches as Sun reaches out and takes her right palm in her own. Sun’s hands are warm and steady. She is impossibly gentle, running her thumbs feather-light over the lines of Gabrielle’s hands.
After turning the hand over and humming thoughtfully, Sun rests their joined hands onto her lap. She leans over as if studying closely.
“So, what’s the verdict?”
Sun’s eyes rise to meet Gabrielle’s, a knowing smile on her face. Gabrielle is caught in the spell of those hazel pools, deep in the lamplight in gold and flecked with green around the edges. Happiness rushes like floodwater to fill her heart and limbs. Her breath catches in awe at their proximity. A few strands of hair fall into Sun’s face and Gabrielle wants so badly to reach out and tuck them behind her ear. She wants to touch the planes of her face: the cheekbone with faint freckles; the small scar over her left eyebrow.
Sun blinks and motions her head for Gabrielle to look down. Gabrielle feels the loss of those eyes as soon as they fall, and she begrudgingly follows. Sun cradles her hand so it gently lies open on her own palm. With the other she traces the curve around Gabrielle’s thumb. “This is the life line. It is long and unbroken. You will have a long life.” Her voice is melodic even while speaking low and intimate as they are.
She smiles and if Gabrielle had been watching their hands instead of her face, she would have missed it. There is no furrow of concentration in her brow but there is an intensity of focus in the minute expressions around her eyes.
“Here is your fate line. You jump tracks a few times.” She brushes the areas where the curve is interrupted. “It swerves when it meets your heart line, meaning your heart drives your decisions.”
“Is that bad?” Gabrielle whispers. There only exists the two of them and the shared air between them.
Sun shakes her head. Her silky hair sways, the black shimmering in the warm lamplight. “No. At least I don’t think so.” She turns Gabrielle’s hand sideways. “You’ll have three kids, see these tick marks here?”
“That’s a lot.”
There is a barely contained smile on her face. Gabrielle wishes Sun would let it show in its full glory. “And they’ll be a lot, if they’re anything like you.”
“Hey!” Gabrielle says in mock indignation. She wants to playfully shove her but refuses to break the point of contact.
Sun hums and squints thoughtfully. “I see a happy home, with a pool, coffee brought to you in bed.” She begins to run her fingers over the palm in an incomprehensible pattern, no longer tracing the lines and simply giving her hands something to do.
Gabrielle’s eyes flutter at the gentle touches. “Yeah?” She breathes. “You see all that in my palm?”
“Not exactly. I just know what you want. You know what else I see?”
Gabrielle shakes her head mutely. Her mouth is dry when she tries to swallow.
“I see a dog, a golden retriever, one that is good with the kids when they play in the yard. You’ll have a good job, where you get to do the exciting experiments and not those tedious ones that you complain about in chemistry class. Money won’t be something you have to worry about. You’ll have a long life and a good marriage. You and him will be happy.”
“Not him. Her.” Gabrielle says, and she has never been more certain of something in her entire life. She cannot see this future with anyone else on the other side of that bed.
Sun looks up with wide eyes. Her fingertips still, and the lack of motion is strange, as if the world stops turning along with it.
There is tightness in her throat. “I know the last two people I’ve dated are guys, but I’m not tied to any gender in particular.”
She hums in acknowledgement. Her gaze is serious but not overbearing. “Why are you so sure it will be a her then?”
Gabrielle flushes. “Um- I mean- I don’t… Shit, I can’t know the future; that’s your job!”
“Always one to pawn off responsibility, huh?” Sun grins mischievously.
“Only to people I trust.”
“And you trust me?” Her tone is still mostly joking. That out of place piece of hair falls over Sun’s eyebrow and down one apple of her smile, the shadow obscuring the dimple at which Gabrielle has snuck countless glances.
There is still time to bail. Gabrielle could lean into that light tone. She considers saying something along the lines of ‘I know, bad decision.’ But the truth is so vulnerable, so powerful as it pushes at her chest, aching to be let into the air between them on that worn down couch. “Of course. Of course I trust you.”
The silence is a weighted blanket: comfortable but loaded.
“So, you’re putting your future in my hands?”
Gabrielle is looking everywhere but at Sun’s expression: her gaze settling on her hand still held between both of Sun’s. The truth is so obvious to her that she is surprised not everyone knows, almost as if it is written on her skin for the world to see. “It’s always been in your hands.”
There is the sound of a slow exhale. Movement draws her eyes back up. That rogue black lock flutters in Sun’s face. Not able to help it, she reaches over to unsteadily brush it away. Fear and doubt are waging war on her senses, causing her nerves to vibrate. Her gaze flicks between Sun’s wide eyes and where her free hand still hovers uncertainly beside Sun’s face.
Before she can remove her outstretched hand, Sun tilts her head into the palm. Her eyes slide shut. “I’d better learn how to make coffee,” she says matter-of-factly.
Gabrielle feels the warmth against each of her hands distantly. Her eyes are wide with disbelief when Sun opens her eyes again.
Sun shifts her grip on Gabrielle’s hand so their fingers slip together and shifts to rest her head on her shoulder. “Is this okay?”
A laugh explodes from Gabrielle’s mouth, big and disbelieving. “It’s more than-- Shit, this is better than I could have-- You really want this? With me?”
“Couldn’t imagine it any other way.” Sun is holding that hand between hers with a gentle pressure, the facade of palm reading long abandoned.
Gabrielle shifts on the couch to better fit against each other. She vows to never knock any of this mystical shit ever again. Her fingers tentatively run through Sun’s sleek hair. It is soft like water across her skin.
“I don’t know though, three kids sounds like a lot.” Sun mumbles.
Gabrielle laughs. “I’m sure we can manage.”