The empty space woke her.

She opened her eyes to check if her touch deceived her, if her eyes could deny that she was alone. But it didn't. On the bed beside her, there was space, rumpled sheet declaring there was someone who laid there.

She sat up, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. The sheets whispered as she moved to stand from the bed. She did not bother to put on her clothes, just took the blanket and draped it over her naked body like a toga. Bare-feet, she padded across the room, the simple yet elegant room in their apartment they had been living in for almost a year now.

She made her way to the balcony, where a lone figure stood in her silk robe. Quietly, she slid the thin wall of glass open, and the strong wind entered, letting her sandy brown hair fly in their accord. She paused for a moment, unsure, before stepping forward.

"I'm sorry I woke you," the other woman said, not turning to her. She was staring into the darkness and there was no apology in her voice. Yet in the ears of someone who loved her, it was soft and gentle, almost like a caress.

"You didn't," the other lied, clutching the sheet around her tightly lest the wind blew it. "I woke up myself."

The woman chuckled and turned to her. Her dark hair shone blue in the weak light of the city. "I was thinking."

"You don't have to explain." She walked to the small table at the corner of the balcony where a goblet and a bottle of wine stood. She poured out for herself and sipped it. "I'm used to it by now, Lucrezia."

Lucrezia Noin smiled at her lover before turning back to the scene. They were quiet for a few minutes before she whispered, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Sally Po glanced at the city below them and smiled. "Yes, it is." She took another sip.

"You like the forest better," Lucrezia accused her.

Sally shrugged. "I have lived there my life, yet the city beckons me as well. I lived in a city part of my life too, remember?"

"Yes. You said." The woman sighed and turned away.

The other watched her furtively before saying softly: "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

Lucrezia pushed away a stray bang on her face and shrugged.

"There's no need to lie about it."

"Then yes."

Sally sighed and took another sip, before pausing and gulping it down. "I see." When she drew down the glass, she was surprised to see Lucrezia standing before her, offering to pour wine from the bottle. She obliged.

"You're not happy about it," her lover observed, careful not to let the strong wind influence her grip.

Sally did not answer; only let the other put the bottle on the glass table once more. She leaned on the rails and slowly moved the goblet in her fingers. "Should I be?" she finally replied. "We can look for him, you know."

"I don't want to bother," Lucrezia retorted. "If he wants me around, he'll contact me."

"He's not ready yet." Sally shrugged. "The question is if you'll turn to him quickly."

"Turn to him from what?" Lucrezia asked softly.

The glass was raised to the direction of the lights. Sally smiled. "You were right to wake up. It's beautiful here. I don't believe the colonies can be this enticing at night."

"The colonies are more like the Earth than you know."

Sally took another sip, then looked startled when Lucrezia's fingers outstretched to touch her wet lips. She trembled slightly. "Lucrezia�"

"One day, Mirialdo will come back," she said solemnly.

"Then I will let you go," finally came the answer. "I never held you, remember? The first time�nothing held us together."

"The first time has come and gone, and so has the second," Lucrezia replied, taking a step forward and putting her arms around the thin waist of her lover. She tugged at the sheet. "Do you still say that nothing holds us together?" She touched Sally's face, letting her fingers slide on the smooth cheek. She leaned forward. "Tell me we have nothing, Sally."

Sally smiled softly and closed her eyes. She knew she couldn't. "But he will come."

"He will. And when he does, then I will make my decision." She stopped her caresses. "Don't worry, Sally. It will be a long time before he does."

"A being worries about his future," Sally replied. "And Mirialdo is the future." She caught the right wrist of her lover and brought it to her lips. "You have wings. You can fly."

"And you?" Lucrezia retorted. "Should I leave you crawling while I fly?"

"There is no need to worry about me," Sally told her, a little irritated. "I'm old. I can take care of myself."

Lucrezia leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. "Tell me again nothing holds us together."

"You are making me drop my glass!" her partner complained, wriggling away a little.

"Finish that and let's go back to bed."

Sally looked at her goblet and frowned. "I can't. It's still half-full and I'm already lightheaded." She smiled. "You go ahead, Lucrezia. I'll finish this and follow you."

"Love."

The sudden endearment stiffened the girl.

"Love," Lucrezia went on, obviously realizing the effect of this, "I won't leave you crawling."

Sally looked straight at her eyes, those purple pools that held too much pain and affection to be centered on only one being. She smiled and relaxed. "I won't allow you to be tied to the ground," she said quietly.

"Then we'll fly together." One hand began to tug at the sheet again, which slowly gave way and fell on the ground, revealing her naked body. "And I will wait for that day. Now, come, love, finish that and let's go to bed."

"You're hurrying me," Sally protested, but nevertheless, brought the glass to her lips and drank it in a gulp. In her haste, a small drip of wine splattered on her cheek.

Lucrezia leaned forward and licked it, before opening her mouth to claim her lover's lips. Sally's hands went to her waist, pulled the ropes of her robe before letting it drop over the creamy shoulders of her lover.

They made their way back inside, and Sally sank into the bed, pulling Lucrezia with her. The mattress shifted as their bodies pushed together. Lucrezia kissed her softly, gently, making love to her slowly and passionately. Her whispers were full of promises and affection, and Sally drank them in as she did the wine.

Finally, they laid on the bed, each on their own sides, and both had their arms around each other, their limbs entwined to form only one figure that were together. Lucrezia fell asleep immediately, being awake earlier. Sally buried her face into her lover's neck, breathing her scent and lavishing in it.

"I won't let you fly alone," she whispered her promise. "Not alone."

And with that, she fell into her own deep slumber.

~ * ~

The gust of wind blew stronger than usual, letting the sheet left on the balcony flutter and then let go into the sky. But the cords of the robe entangled themselves on the sheet, not letting it go until another stronger wind blew and carried them both to the sky.

The two flew together, the silk robe and the cotton blanket, disappearing into the night sky.

Nobody noticed.