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no one but you (got me feeling this way)

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Kara would have tried to tell her heart to stop acting like it’s on a loop-the-loop, but at this point she’s sure it would have been a lost cause. It’s doing that stupid thing where it feels like it wants to jump out of her chest and right into Lena’s hand, but really, the only stupid part about that is it would have been too much like giving someone something they already own.

Doomed, she remembers telling Alex, when she’s only just begun realising the extent of what she’s feeling about Lena, and yep, that is still a very accurate assessment of what she is.

Lena is in the kitchen cooking dinner for the three of them, after vehemently refusing either Danvers sister’s help, saying, “I don’t want other people in my kitchen.”

“Wait, that’s my kitchen too,” Kara objected.

Lena just shot her a dangerously saccharine smile, raising a perfect eyebrow as well. “We’re not married yet, darling, so the kitchen, for now, is mine.” Then she turned and sauntered off in a trail of lavender and suggestive smirks, leaving Alex and Kara alone in the living room to fend for themselves, the former sniggering at the latter’s gob-smacked expression.

(Lena, it seems, has a habit of doing that to Kara.

Not that Kara minds.)

Alex is now doing something on her phone, probably making updates about her mission and/or Kara’s situation, and Kara herself is spiraling down a rather undignified hole of her own making.

Rao, she’s such a mess.

“Do try to get a grip of yourself.” Her sister barely even glances up from what she’s typing.

Kara’s opens her mouth, an indignant retort on her lips, but then she remembers Lena’s smile when Alex showed her a picture of a five-year-old Kara in the royal stables, and she feels her knees weakening—truly a feat seeing as she’s already on the floor—and yeah, okay, her sister does have a point, and Kara has no leg to stand on here. “It’s kind of a losing battle here already,” she admits instead, the statement punctuated with a sigh.

Alex snorts. “Then can you just please wait until I’m out of here because I for one really don’t need to see that look on my sister’s face.”

Kara stares at her, confused. “What? What look?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the look that would have beaten a desert in a competition of which one needs water more.” Alex sets her phone down, looking at Kara unconvinced, and Kara scowls, petulant. “Control your damn thirst, Kara, seriously.”

“Shut up.” Kara slumps herself over the coffee table, her arms spread out on either side, her cheek squished on the surface. She probably looks like a ragdoll with the stuffing removed. She decides she doesn’t care. “I don’t know what to do,” she says.

“Yeah, and Nickelback sucks.”

Kara groans. “Your complete lack of empathy for my plight is duly noted, Agent Danvers.”

Her words are a bit garbled because of her position, but Alex has years of experience deciphering her sister. “Your complete lack of chill around pretty girls is noted, Princess Kara.”

“You’re so mean.”

“Ouch.” Alex holds a hand to her chest. “You hurt me, Kara, right here.”

Kara shifts so that she’s leaning on her elbows. She raises a critical eyebrow at her sister, though she’s pretty sure it’s nowhere near as elegant as when Lena does it. Still. “Maggie said you’re heartless anyway since you don’t let her win at pool ever and also her wallet is maybe crying.” She pauses, as if recalling something. “So maybe let her win at least once so she can afford her own beer.”

Alex, however, does not care about Maggie’s wallet and the cash it may or may not contain. “Why is Maggie talking shit about me?” Alex frowns, and adds, “to you?”

“I’m her favourite Danvers, duh.” Kara wrinkles her nose, sniffs in mock-disdain. “And you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Alex sticks her tongue out at her. “You wanna kiss Lena with yours?”

“Shut up or I’ll tell Maggie about the Kate thing.”

“Do that and I’ll tell Lena you wanna smash your face with hers.” Alex makes a face. “Though, eww, I just grossed myself out.”

Kara smirks. “You mean that’s the first time that happened?”

Alex’s jaw drops, outraged. “Why you little—”

Kara snickers as Alex thumps her with a pillow. “Hey, quit that! You’re a federal agent, you’re not supposed to hurt people!”

“And you’re royalty, you’re not supposed to be such a brat.”

“Uh, actually, you’re wrong, because according to every American film made ever, that is exactly how royalty is supposed to act.”

“I’m going to have to side with Kara on this one,” comes Lena’s amused voice, “she’s acting exactly as royalty should, as per the American film industry’s trustworthy lenses.”

Lena’s carrying a tray of something that smells really freaking delicious, but Kara’s attention is decidedly not on the food.

Which is truly saying something, because nothing gets between Kara and food. Not even Alex can compete.

But Lena . . . she’s the exception to everything in Kara’s life, isn’t she, and Kara would happily let her derail every single thing she knows about herself if she’d keep on looking at Kara like that.

Lena’s hair has been pulled up in a high ponytail, accentuating the gorgeous planes of her face and calling (highly warranted) attention to the sculpted flawlessness of her jawline that would have made Michelangelo himself burst into tears (if Kara were a little more out of it, she would have cried, honestly).

But what caught Kara in her spell is the look in her eyes, twinkling green like a breathtaking aurora reflected across a frozen lake, and yet still managing to hold in them the kind of warmth that would have dispelled an eternity of coldness.

It is that same look that made Kara finally admit to herself that she is, utterly and without a doubt, in love with Lena Luthor.

 

She has to live through being her betrothed—has to act as her promised one.

 

And Kara is certain that the pretense of it all would be the thing that killed her, when all is said and done.

 

                                               

 

This is turning up to be a bigger crisis that she’s prepared to handle, and she’d really rather challenge Non—a rather accomplished combatant—to a duel than cope with whatever this thing’s fallout would be to her heart.

 

                                               

 

Lena has managed to cook up this mac-and-cheese-and-pizza pasta hybrid that Kara absolutely adores, and there’s even a side of bruschetta, and when they say that the best way to a person’s heart is through the stomach, this is what they mean. And Kara might be reeling because of a personal revelation, which frankly has a questionable timing, but she’s still Kara, and that means she has to eat.

(Hopefully, the act of consuming food would pacify, even for a bit, that monster coiling at the pit of Kara’s belly, making her feel as if her insides are being squeezed out and stretched at the same time.)

“Of course, you’re siding with her,” Alex grumbles, throwing her hands up. “You’re her fiancée.”

“Your sister hasn’t actually proposed yet, Agent Danvers, so technically, she’s my girlfriend.” She sends Kara this meaningful look that lingers, and Kara could almost feel those eyes caress her skin. She hides a shiver. “For now.”

Kara sends a quick thank you to the universe for not letting her choke on her mouthful. She rallies through her tumultuous thoughts and past the focal point in her mind that just keeps chanting how much she loves Lena Luthor. “Why do I have to be the one to propose?” she protests.

“Why not?”

“Yeah, Kara,” Alex gibes glibly, and Kara wants to poke her with her fork, “why not? Don’t you wanna put a ring on that?”

“What are you, twelve?”

“So you don’t want to put a ring on it?” Lena prods, barely holding in a grin.

“Oh my god.” Kara slaps a hand to her eyes. “Let me just eat in peace.”

“All right, darling,” Lena laughingly says, “no need to be such a grouch.”

Kara feels a hand tugging on her own, pulling it down, and when she relents, she’s greeted by Lena’s affectionate smile that is just the worst because how can Kara keep her feelings under control when Lena’s being so . . . Lena? But Kara knows that she won’t want Lena to change ever, so she just sighs, and hides her agony in her usual pout.

“Food,” is all she says, and Lena nods solemnly, before piling another heap of pasta on her plate.

So yes, Kara is definitely doomed, but she can’t even manage to care.

 

Death by a pretty girl’s smile is not a bad destiny, if she does say so herself.

 

                                                               

 

future wife: did you just change your name in my contacts

sluthorin my bed: we’re engaged now

sluthorin my bed: so time to update to something more appropriate ;)

future wife: not the word i’d use tbh

sluthorin my bed: ;)

future wife: stop that

 

                                                               

 

The next days are, as it turns out, to be the greatest trials to Kara’s moral principles.

 

                                                               

 

future wife: out of morbid curiosity

future wife: what’s my name in yours

sluthorin my bed: huffle-pup

future wife: oh okay

future wife: that’s actually not half bad

sluthorin my bed: wanna see something better ;)

future wife: no stop

sluthorin my bed: if i told you that you have a great body, would you hold it against me?

sluthorin my bed: ;)

future wife: STOP WINKING

 

                                                               

 

After Kara got admitted to NCU, she and Alex looked for a nearby hotel that would serve as their base if ever either of them needed time away from the rest of the world. It had to be reputable but not overly well-known so as to avoid unnecessary attention (as per Alex’s specification), and it should be within a few blocks of a Chinese restaurant and a pizzeria (Kara’s, obviously).

They found the Lionheart, and they booked the penthouse under one of Alex’s aliases, for a time indefinite. It is there that Kara goes when she needs to reassess her feelings and disentangle her messy strands of thoughts.

Right now, though, the room alone is not enough.

Kara needs her sister too.

And perhaps she’s being needy, and perhaps she’s overreacting, but Lena’s constant presence and her smile and the feelings she inspires within Kara are all too great and all too much and Kara needs something stable and steady amidst her emotional turmoil.

And anyway, she’s always been known to feel first and think later.

So she picks up her phone and types.

 

                                                               

 

huff-le-puff danvers: valiant is the one who admits defeat

alexpectro patronum: strong is the one who admits weakness

 

                               

 

alexpectro patronum: ppp?

huff-le-puff danvers: ppp.

 

                                                               

 

Alex shows up late at night, with several takeout boxes and pizzas. “Pot stickers plus pizzas, as promised,” she announces as she enters Kara’s room. She sets her precious cargo down on the desk.

“Thanks,” Kara mumbles from her nest on the bed.

“Don’t thank me ’cause they’re not all for you.”

“Hmm.”

Alex’s shoulders droop. “Fine, fine.” She chucks a pair of chopsticks at her sister, who releases a surprised yelp. “Come on, then, I’m starving and you need food.” Kara’s lips quirk up, because that sentence shouldn’t make sense at all, but it does. She sits up on the bed, her lower half still covered in blankets, while Alex drags the desk chair over and hands Kara her food. “Eat up.”

Kara turns up the volume on the TV as they both settle in, allowing the words to wash over her without actually hearing them. Alex just lets her be, sitting in silence and only breaking their pace when she gets uncomfortable on her seat and needs to lie down on the bed as well. Kara moves to accommodate her, and Alex stretches out her legs over the blankets, and then they don’t speak again as Alex watches a sitcom rerun and Kara chews on her epiphanies and ruminations flavoured with broccoli and garlic.

It’s nice, reminiscent of the nights they spent in their childhood and teenage years, because Alex always knows when Kara needs to be prompted to speak and when she’s going to talk out of her own volition.

(“How do you always know?” a thirteen-year-old Kara asked, wrapped in Alex’s sweatshirt and holding a mug of Eliza’s special cocoa mix.

“It’s kind of a sister superpower,” Alex replied, brushing Kara’s fringes to the side. “Something to help me do my job.”

“What job?”

Alex shrugged. “To protect you.”)

It’s near midnight when they finish up, and Kara feels full and warm and sleepy. Alex cleans up despite Kara’s protests, and afterwards, she returns to her place beside Kara.

Kara ponders which step Alex would take.

“So?” Alex asks, when Kara’s on the brink of sleep, her mind wandering back to her dorm and its sole occupant at the moment.

Ah. Tonight, apparently, is one where she’s going to have to talk.

Kara merely hums. “Hmm?”

“How’re you?” Alex insists, though her tone is still gentle, like she doesn’t at all want to disturb the tranquility that has enveloped the room.

“I’m fine.”

“Hmm,” Alex returns, brows raising in skepticism, and it makes Kara huff.

“Really. I’m fantastic. Peachy. Great. Splendid.”

“Did you, by chance, swallow a thesaurus or something?” Alex sounds a little amused, now. “Because I know your stomach is probably made of iron and you could probably eat anything, but I think you kinda went a bit too far with that one.”

She has her best Big Sister™ look, and it’s just—kind of too much but also just enough, because of course Alex knows that Kara wouldn’t call her here, in their hideout, for nothing. And the understanding in her eyes makes Kara want to cry but also curl up on Alex’s side like she used to when they were younger and Kara’s having nightmares and wanted the reassurance only her big sister could provide.

And so she does, and Alex’s arms wrap around her, easy, as protective and as safe a presence as ever.

Alex just holds her like that, waiting, because she’s patient and she’s a queen amongst women and she’s Kara’s sister and she loves her. Alex never makes Kara feel like she needs to rush anything; she just silently waits until her little sister is ready.

“Any more of this torture and I’m gonna fling myself to the sun.”

“There, there.”

“Real helpful.”

“There, there,” and Alex adds, “baby doll.” And it may sound facetious and uncaring but Kara knows it’s the opposite; it’s Alex’s way of making her at ease, humour, because Agent Danvers is always serious and strict and severe but Alex the Sister is fun and relaxed and indulgent. Still Kara lifts her head only to drop it harder on Alex’s shoulder. “Ow!” Alex grouches, though Kara can hear the grin in her tone.

“I hate you,” she mutters, even as the beginning of a smile plays on her lips. Alex hums, and her fingers run through Kara’s hair gently, and Kara lets herself be comforted, listening to her sister’s even heartbeat, a soft thump-thump-thump.

She remembers the breathing exercises her physician taught her for when she’s having anxiety attacks, which used to happen quite a lot in the aftermath of the war. These days they are few and far in-between, but she finds that the exercises still help, calming her down when she’s having a particularly bad time.

“Take a deep breath, You Highness, slowly. Through the nose, yes, that’s good. Let it fill your lungs, just so. Hold it. Count to three.”

One.

(Lena kissing her on the cheek, her smile as radiant as the rising sun.)

Two.

(Lena holding her hand, her thumb tracing patterns on Kara’s skin.)

Three.

(Lena hugging her, her arms encircling Kara as if she doesn’t want to let her go.)

“Exhale through your mouth. Relax your facial muscles, yes, just so, and your jaw, shoulders, and stomach.”

“Alex.” And then she says, out loud, for the first time, “I’m in love with her.”