The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1640: Blackberry Rose

Saini gave her sweetened cream a final taste, deeming it nearly perfect, with only the most minuscule flaws that likely no one else would ever notice. It was during moments like these that she truly envied Amahle’s innate ability to sense the whereabouts of her coven members. However, her ears eventually twitched as the faint sound of a boat with a flat bottom glided over the water toward their peaceful, snug abode. Her tail gave an anticipatory flick, and she found herself needing to take several deep breaths to resist the urge to bolt onto the porch and lean over the railing. Just a few more moments, and she would savor each one, carefully spooning the whipped, sweetened cream into the pie plate already lined with candied pecans. Once the cream layer was settled, her fingers moved with swift precision, arranging slices of pawpaw fruit atop the cream in an artful display of concentric circles.

"There, just in time," she declared, a satisfied smile gracing her lips as she stood from the table where she had been working. She carried the pie over to one of the cooling boxes that Amahle always kept stocked with ice. The pie she had crafted was an ideal dessert for the sweltering heat of summer, a time when the chilled, sweetened cream, buttery fruit, and crunchy pecans coalesced into a treat that made one forget the sweat trickling down their back or the incessant drone of insects buzzing nearby...

On days as cool as this one, Saini actually preferred smaller treats baked near the hearth, whether they were decadent, buttery cookies or sweet, nut-laden spice cakes. Yet, the pawpaw pie remained Mamao’s absolute favorite, regardless of the season, which meant it was the only dish she would prepare to welcome the Blackberry Witch home.

-THUMP-

The sound of a boat bumping against the dock was subtle enough not to disturb Jacques or Amahle, but Saini’s ears swiveled towards the door. Once again, she had to restrain herself from rushing out to the porch. If she did, if she could have Mamao all to herself outside, they might never make it to dinner, and that… that simply wouldn't do.

Seated at the table, Amahle’s lips curved into a gentle smile as she observed Saini’s ears twitch towards the door, remaining fixated as the Rose Witch’s breathing quickened and her hands began to toy with the loose, flowing material of her skirt. Across the room, she met Jacques’ gaze; a silent understanding passed between them before the large, scaly Sandbox Witch made a show of adjusting the garnish on his catfish, feigning obliviousness to the door.

-SCUFFLE, SCUFFLE, SCUFFLE-

-THUMP, THUMP, THUMP-

The sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps seemed to synchronize with Saini’s heartbeats just moments before the door swung open, revealing a small, ball-shaped figure enveloped from head to toe in traveling attire. It was difficult to discern much of Mamao beyond her small, dark eyes. The wide-brimmed Traveling Hat, with its floppy, cone-shaped crown adorned with so many trinkets stuffed into its brim, appeared to droop low, reaching the Blackberry Witch’s cloaked shoulders and obscuring her from view. Straps from bulging satchels crisscrossed her chest, and she clutched a gnarled walking stick in one hand, while the other was already occupied with the laces of her mossy-green cloak.

"I’m home, I’m home, and just a moment, I’m stuck on, no, I’m not, I just, whoop, no, stay, stay!" the Blackberry Witch called out as she placed her walking stick by the door, issuing it a firm command to remain upright. It promptly disregarded the order, clattering to the ground. The ensuing commotion, however, did not seem to impede her progress, as her nimble fingers swiftly removed her cloak, tossing it towards the coat rack near the door, only for the throw to fall short, the garment landing on the floor.

"I’ll clean that up, mama, I’ll get to it in just a breath, now..." she began, her voice trailing off as her eyes landed on Saini.

"Sugar-sugar," Mamao whispered, a fraction of a second before her feet began to move, all thoughts of removing her satchels abandoned as she scurried across the floor as fast as her legs could carry her. She moved so quickly that her dusky purple Traveling Hat tumbled from her head, unveiling dull brown hair interspersed with rows of cream-colored quills that perfectly matched the quills protruding from her shoulders, back, and spine.

"Honey-dew," Saini responded, her self-control finally shattering. She surged across the floor with a clatter of hooves, then dropped to her knees, flinging her arms wide.

-THUMP-

Saini nearly lost her balance as Mamao launched herself into the embrace, burying her head in Saini’s chest and pressing her cute, rounded face as close to Saini’s heart as she possibly could.

"I’m home, I’m home, and I came as fast as I could. It’s so dark out there tonight, and I know I’m late, but there was something odd about the Ancient Willow when I passed it on the way; it’s so quiet and calm now, not angry like before, and I..."

"Hush now, Honey-dew, you are finally home," Saini murmured, her arms encircling Mamao. She felt the smaller witch's quills flatten against her skin, a sign of defenses yielding, something reserved for a precious few. Indeed, the number of individuals Mamao permitted to touch her could be counted on two hands, and three of them were present in this very room. Yet, no one elicited the instant, unguarded response from the Blackberry Witch quite like Saini did.

"I know I'm home! I missed you terribly! It was so dreadfully cold in the mountains this time, and I had to climb so high... and I..."

"Hush," Saini repeated softly, drawing back just enough to press a finger against Mamao's lips. She gazed into the other woman's luminous eyes.

"I'm hushin'," Mamao replied with a subtle pout.

"You are hushin' now," Saini agreed, a gentle smile gracing her lips. She leaned forward, angling her head so their noses brushed, and finally, their lips met.

Mamao's lips were as soft as velvet, her kiss as sweet as honeyed wine. Saini cherished every second, the world receding until only she and Mamao remained in their own private space. In this timeless realm, nothing mattered but the silent conversation of their hearts, conveyed through lips, tongues, and tender touches. Each gesture was a reassurance, an affirmation that the person in their arms was truly, truly there... and that neither of them was going anywhere anytime soon.