Writer's Bloc

"It's snowing," Bridgette announced. She let the curtain fall closed again, and walked over to Maya's desk. Maya suppressed a snarky comment. She hated when Bridg stood over her shoulder when she was writing, but if she snapped at her, it'd end up being a fight and that would mean she would have to stop working on her story.

Bridgette kissed the top of Maya's head. "It's really coming down. Want to go for a walk like we used to?"

Maya made a non-committal noise and deleted the last two sentences she'd written. Not good enough. Again.

"Come on, it'll be fun. You love the snow!"

"I just want to finish this story."

"Maya..." The exasperation in Bridgette's voice stung. Why couldn't she understand Maya just wanted to get this story finished. It was so achingly close, only a few more pages.

"What?" Maya snapped, surprised at the heat in her own voice.

"What?!" Bridgette snapped back. "We haven't done anything fun together in MONTHS. It's just story this, story that. When is the last time you even left the fucking house?" Bridgette threw her arms up, then stormed out.

"You know what, forget I asked." Bridgette said, her voice sharp at first, but by the end of the sentence it was suffused with bone deep sadness.

The door slamming shut behind her love of almost twenty years felt like it slammed straight on her heart. Something about the tone pushed through Maya's hyperfocus on her story. It had been a while since they'd done anything fun together. She'd been too embroiled in her writing to really miss Bridgette, but now that she'd been pulled out-- Her eyes watered, and she disentangled herself from the blanket and headphone cable, rushing after Bridgette.

Maya found Bridgette doing the dishes. Guiltily, Maya remembered the dirty plate on her writing desk, the reason Bridgette had come upstairs in the first place. She debated going to get it, but decided adding more domestic work now would just be insulting. She sat down on the ground, leaning against the fridge, and sighed.

"I did it again, huh."

"Did what?" Bridg's voice was sharp again.

"I fucked up. I got lost. I neglected you, neglected everything."

Bridgette's silence gave Maya the truth of her own words.

"I'll stop writing, if that's what it takes. I'll find another hobby, I--"

"Maya..." There's that exasperated tone again, though more tired this time. "Love, you have to learn moderation. I love your writing, I'd never ask you to stop."

Maya curled up into herself, pulling her knees up to her chest. She watched as Bridg gathered herself, steeling herself to deal with the Maya problem, thinking Maya didn't ever notice. The small shift in body language sent a stab of pain through Maya, and she felt tears forming again.

"No more dinner at my desk," Maya said, before Bridg could fix this for her again. "And at least one night a week where we do something together, just the two of us."

Bridgette slid down on to the floor next to Maya, drying her hands on the dish towel.

"And I either cook, or do the dishes. If I don't, I have to dele--"

"Stop. Nothing drastic. Just --" Bridg sighed "-- just promise me this time, okay? No dramatics, no dire consequences if you fail, just a promise between partners to try."

Maya let herself be pulled into a sideways hug. Bridgette smelled of dish soap and home. She forced an "I'm sorry," through her tears, and let Maya hold her.

After a while of Bridgette combing her fingers through her hair, she'd calmed down enough to ask, "Is that walk still on the table?"

~ ~ ~

The winter night is brisk, but entirely without wind. The snowflakes are drifting straight down, only visible in the pools of light cast by Christmas decorations and street lights. Maya spins, arms outstretched, relishing the cold night air and the company of her love.

"Thank you for suggesting this." Maya embraces Bridgette and kisses her, lingering long in her love's arms. "I've missed the snow."

"I've missed you."

"And I you, love. Thank you for being so patient."

They walk along their street, wrapped up in coats and scarves and gloves and thick winter pants, then down the hill and to the park. It's open twenty-four hours a day, well lit with wide open views. The town is tiny and safe and quiet, the late hour and cold night driving everyone out of the park. The two of them sit on the swings and chat. It feels so good to reconnect with Bridgette, Maya can't stop grinning to herself.

"Remember when we used to sneak into the park to make out when you still lived with your parents?" Maya says, giggling.

"This playground has seen a lot of action." Bridgette's grin is plain in her voice.

A wicked idea forms in Maya's head. "You wanna..."

"Wanna what?"

"You know... For old time's sake?"

Bridgette looks around, trying to find an excuse to say no, but Maya preempts her objections. "No one's going to be out in this other than us winter freaks."

"Lets at least move out of the playground, it's probably a felony here."

Not five minutes later, Maya's on her back at the edge of the park, Bridgette leaning over her, her hand down Maya's pants. The snow is still coming down fast, dusting Maya's coat, the flakes stinging a little on the exposed skin of her face. Maya pulls Bridg close, whispering "I love you," before kissing her.

Heat blossoms inside of Maya with the kiss, a rediscovery of an intimacy she had pushed aside, maybe almost lost, for a hobby. She fights away anxiety and sadness, easily done with Bridg's expert fingers and tongue drawing her attention. Bridgette kisses Maya's neck, just above her scarf, letting Maya hum her pleasure.

With Bridgette's tongue and lips on the soft skin of her neck, fingers sliding in and out along her clit, Maya doesn't last long before she trembles in the snow, trying not to cry out. A suppressed grunt of pleasure slips past her guard as Bridg manages to get her teeth on her neck, biting gently.

Without a word, Maya pushes Bridgette back, then starts undoing her pants. Bridgette gasps as her bare ass touches the snow, but Maya knows she loves this more than anything. The cold just drives everything else away for Maya, but Bridg claims it just makes everything more intense for her.

Maya tries to take her time, tries to draw this out for both of them, but the sight and gentle, clean smell of her love's sex so close makes her lose the necessary willpower.

"Oh fuck," Bridgette gasps as Maya pushes her face into her love, tongue darting between her labia. Maya can feel the heat of her love's skin burn on her ice cold face, like washing your hands a long winter hike. Fingers tangle in Maya's hair, pulling her tight against Bridgette. The burning on her face fades as the heat inside of her blazes bright, tasting and probing and caressing, flicking and circling with her tongue as she listens for her love's responses.

As Bridgette gets closer, Maya pulls her ice cold, almost numb hand up out of the snow. She slips the first two fingers in under her chin, Bridgette gasping and moaning louder than Maya is strictly comfortable with in public. Stopping now is unthinkable though, and the discomfort is quickly pushed aside. Her fingers burn as they curl, protesting their hot environment and being used while so cold, but the effect it has on Bridgette is worth the pain.

Somehow her love manages to stay quiet enough, remembering where they are, as Maya brings her closer to orgasm. Maya loses herself in the act, focusing everything she is on making her love feel good. Bridgette's fingers tighten in Maya's hair, holding her close. Her hips freeze, her stomach tenses, her breathing stops as she teeters on the edge. Maya feels for the moment where she tips, and fights with her whole being to keep her fingers going, her tongue circling, her mouth locked to her love, as Bridgette writhes and screams soundlessly at the falling snow.

~ ~ ~

Three hot cocoas later, the last one with a little bourbon, the two of them are warm again and curl up together in bed. It's three am, much later than Bridgette usually goes to bed. They spent hours talking, about everything and nothing. Bridgette even asked Maya about her story, and helped her talk through a plot point she'd been stuck on for days.

"I'm so grateful to be with you." Maya pulls Bridgette in close from behind, kissing the back of her neck. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bridgette kisses Maya's arm and squeezes it. "And I with you, love."

For the first time in weeks, Maya's brain is quiet enough for her to drift off to a deep sleep.