The morning after their first time, Alex sat in the kitchen, whisk clacking against the bowl as she mixed the pancakes for breakfast. Sable had been sleeping soundly when she checked on her, it better to not wake her until breakfast was ready... At least that was her plan until she heard feet come down the stairs. Sable had always been a bit reserved, and even more so since their experience. Experience? They had fucked on the couch! Her silence and distance made Alex more than a bit worried, had she gone too fast? Pushed too far? Sable seemed to enjoy it, she certainly said she did... But if she needed space Alex would certainly give it, and any apologies needed. She turned as Sable entered the kitchen, and barely managed to bite down a gasp.
Sable stood in the doorway, turned slightly to the side. She was wearing her bathrobe, the one Alex bought her in her first week here. The light grey material stood out against the deep fathomless skin that made up her form under the robe. Under that was her cream-colored nightgown, silky, and if the robe wasn't in the way it would have deliciously outlined her form. She stepped into the room lightly, voice soft and husky with sleep. "I came to... see if you needed help making breakfast." Alex, stunned and not willing to speak and possibly break whatever spell had fallen onto their abode, wordlessly handed the bowl over. Sable reached out her two arms that fit into the sleeves of the robe and took it, continuing to whisk.
Alex let the silence sit for a few moments, only the sizzle of butter in the pan and the clack of the whisk breaking the silence. "So, things have been tense. Do you want to talk about what happened?" Sable was quiet for a long time, long enough for Alex to wonder if she should check if she had heard her, but finally, she spoke. "I'm sorry, Alex." Alex's brow furrowed, and she turned away to hide the sadness in her eyes. "It's okay, I sort of ambushed you. You didn't have to feel the same." There was a clatter, the sound of a curse as Sable whisked too hard and managed to lose her grip on the bowl. Alex turned immediately, grabbing some towels as Sable looked on. Alex couldn't tell what else had happened behind the large pale eyes, but Sable's face started to twist in a loss of composure and tears started to form at the corners of her eyes.
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Sable woke up in her bed, alabaster eyes looking up towards the ceiling. Despite appearances, it wasn't the ceiling she truly saw, but Doctor Monroe... Alex. Alex, whose knowing eyes seemed to pierce her soul. Alex, whose hands burned on her skin. Alex... who she didn't dare try to read. Why had she done it, why had she said it? Lust? Pity? Another answer, Alex's own, she refused to accept. It had been a one-time thing, a mistake never to be repeated. Alex couldn't be with her, it wasn't right, and the least Sable could do as her friend was apologize and not let it happen again. She dressed quickly, tossing her robe over her clothes before heading downstairs.