CHAPTER 206

CHAPTER 206
Closeness stopped being a suspended moment and became a continuous state, something that no longer needed to be justified or explained because it had already integrated itself into the way they breathed, moved, and looked at each other. Geneva could feel Catalina’s warmth even when she wasn’t directly touching her, as if her presence had adhered to her skin, to her perception, and Catalina, who had always defined her space with precision, no longer marked limits, no longer established distance. She remained there, in front of her, with a stillness charged with intention that said more than any words.
“You keep looking at me like that,” Catalina murmured, her voice low, but with a nuance that wasn’t discomfort, but something closer to restrained curiosity.
Geneva didn’t look away, her eyes tracing Catalina’s face with an attention she wasn’t trying to hide, as if every small detail mattered, as if she were learning something new with every second.
“Like what?” she asked softly.
Catalina tilted her head slightly, stepping just a fraction closer, enough for the space between them to fill again with that warm tension that had already become familiar.
“Like you don’t want to stop,” she replied.
Geneva let out a soft exhale, a barely perceptible smile forming on her lips.
“I don’t,” she admitted.
Honesty settled between them again with that particular weight that was already becoming constant. Catalina held her gaze for another second, as if that answer triggered something in her she couldn’t ignore, and without breaking eye contact, she slowly raised her hand, brushing Geneva’s skin again with a softness that contrasted with the intensity of everything else.
“That could become dangerous,” she said, but her voice lacked the strength of a real warning—it was more like a veiled confession.
Geneva tilted her face slightly into the touch, her eyes closing for a moment as she allowed herself to register every detail—the warmth, the light pressure, the way Catalina held back even in something as simple as touching her.
“All of this already is,” she replied quietly. “But it doesn’t make me want to stop.”
Catalina released a deeper breath, as if those words loosened something inside her, something she had been holding under control for too long, and her hand didn’t withdraw. Instead, it slid slightly toward the back of Geneva’s neck, drawing her closer with a gesture that was no longer tentative, but firm, decided.
“You’re not making this easy,” she murmured, her voice closer now, brushing against Geneva’s skin.
Geneva opened her eyes slowly, meeting her at a distance that made indifference impossible.
“I don’t want it to be easy,” she replied. “I want it to be real.”
That exchange shifted something immediately. Catalina felt it in the way her own body responded, in how her pulse quickened slightly, in how her usual control became less rigid, more flexible, as if it were adapting to a different rhythm—one that didn’t need to dominate.
“It is,” she said finally, lower, more direct. “Too much.”
The silence that followed wasn’t long, but it was dense enough for both of them to feel it. Geneva lifted her hand again, this time with more certainty, tracing the line of Catalina’s shoulder, pausing briefly before sliding toward her back, a gesture that was no longer exploratory, but affirming, and Catalina not only allowed it, but responded, pulling her closer, eliminating any remaining distance.
“Tell me you won’t disappear when this… changes,” Catalina murmured, and for the first time her voice held something close to doubt—not weakness, but exposure.
Geneva didn’t answer immediately, not because she didn’t know what to say, but because she understood the weight of the question, how it didn’t speak only of the present, but of everything that could come after, and when she finally spoke, she did so without looking away, without softening the truth.
“I’m not going to disappear,” she said. “But I’m not going to stop being who I am either.”
Catalina held that answer in silence, processing it, measuring what it implied, and instead of resisting it, she gave a slight nod, as if accepting that condition without trying to change it.
“That’s enough,” she replied.
Geneva felt something within her settle more firmly—not as an impulsive reaction, but as a decision reaffirming itself, and without overthinking it, she closed the distance again, her body aligning with Catalina’s in a gesture that carried no doubt, no hesitation.
The next kiss didn’t carry the same caution as the ones before—not because it was rough, but because both of them knew what they were doing. There was no need to test or measure. It was a natural continuation, a deeper recognition. Catalina held her face with one hand while the other remained firm at her back, drawing her closer with a certainty she no longer tried to hide, and Geneva responded with the same intensity, her hands finding support at her waist, at her back, at points that anchored her to that moment.
The outside world ceased to exist entirely in that instant—not as an illusion, but as a shared decision to ignore it, to focus only on what they were feeling, on how each small movement created a response, a clearer, stronger connection, and when they finally separated, both remained close, their breathing still intertwined, their foreheads resting against each other.
“This isn’t something I can ignore,” Catalina murmured.
Geneva let out a faint smile, her eyes still closed.
“You don’t have to.”
Catalina opened her eyes, watching her with a mix of intensity and something softer—something she didn’t usually allow to be seen.
“I don’t want to,” she corrected.
Geneva opened her eyes as well, meeting that gaze without barriers, without distance.
“Then don’t.”
The silence that followed was different—more stable, clearer, as if both of them had reached a point where they no longer needed to question what was happening. Catalina rested her forehead against Geneva’s once more, but this time not as a restrained gesture, but as something natural, almost automatic.
“I don’t know where this is going,” she admitted.
Geneva held her gaze, without stepping back.
“We don’t have to know yet.”
Catalina watched her for another second, then released a soft exhale, as if that answer were enough, as if for the first time in a long time she didn’t need to have all the answers before moving forward.
“Then we’ll find out,” she said finally.
Geneva nodded softly.
“Together.”
And in that moment, without the need for more words, the bond stopped being a reaction to the moment.
It became a path they had both chosen to walk, no matter what the system did around them.