| closed / incomplete |

[forgivenot]

CHARACTERS: Igraine (forgivenot) & Morgause (rundesirerun)
DATE/TIME: Around 1pm
LOCATION: A café
RATING: Taaame
WARNINGS: Two sexy ladies in a café. Uh. Possible one-sided angst.
SUMMARY: A mother meets her child for the first time in this life.

Comments

[forgivenot]

And like Morgause, Igraine couldn't withhold the lovely smile that crossed her lips following the kiss. So many 'what if's had crossed her mind, like her daughter running late, the appointment running too long, an incident in traffic blocking her way. Irrational minds did such thinking.

Though earlier plagued by anxiety, she was able to push to standing on legs that didn't tremble, take one of Morgause's hands, and touch the back of her own to her girl's cheek with the love of a mother who hadn't seen her child in what felt like forever.

"Morgause," she began first in an affectionate murmur. "You're so beautiful in person."

[forgivenot]

Without the trace of a blush, Igraine relocated her hand back to her side, though only for a moment. Soon she was stepping forward and slipping both arms around Morgause for an embrace, loose enough to prove how distrustful she was of herself to squeeze tight. As much as she wanted to, even if this was her daughter, her Morgause, she needed some time.

"I say it because it's true. You look stunning."

[forgivenot]

An affectionate smile pulled at Igraine's lips. "Then it's good I scheduled this for later. Did the appointment go well?"

Perhaps it was a little strange to be inquiring about another woman's daughter, but this was her own daughter, and so she felt no shame in asking about someone she could technically consider a grandchild. Not that it made sense that she was younger by Morgause by just under a decade. In any case, this was her girl. She wanted to know everything about her.

[forgivenot]

And so Igraine followed suit, adjusting herself in the seat and her braid over her shoulder. She would've listened to Morgause talk all day if she could, but conversations were a two-way street. Eventually, she'd need to say something, and ignore the dreamy feeling that was slowly swallowing her up.

"How old is she? I don't think I've ever asked," she put forth, only realizing with her words that she wasn't entirely sure she'd even inquired. How could she have not asked?

[forgivenot]

Reaching up to gingerly touch her braid, Igraine succumbed to a soft laugh. Most often than not she did wear her hair up -- a habit learned from working in a kitchen for many years -- but today was a special occasion. Somehow she could already imagine little fingers curling around her braid and tugging.

"Three soon, that's wonderful. I'll make it a priority to come see her sometime before winter comes," she promised, releasing her hair. Yes, three in December did ring a bell.