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    Heart of A Butterfly

    February fourteenth—the most favored day of the year for Lorna Morello. Everything about Valentine’s Day she swoons over. As a child, she dreamt of the day being spent with her handsome-as-a-prince future husband – going out on a fancy, romantic, date with divine flowers and the finest chocolate, and all the other stereotypical thinking that comes along with the national day of love. Now, though, as a matured young adult who’s found her true love to be a recovered heroin addict woman, those dreams don’t matter anymore. All that matters is spending the time with the person her heart belongs to.

    Lorna spends the entire day preparing the house for her wife’s arrival. She has freshly-bought flowers sitting on the dining room table in a sparkly pink vase. The tablecloth—one she borrowed from Red—sits underneath and shines radiantly from the sunlight seeping in through the window above. A smile sits on her face while she looks at her work from the kitchen. She stirs the sauce in the pot on the stove, ravishing in the delightful scent it gives off.

    The faint sound of the door opening halts her stir. Figures, she thinks, the one day she needs Nicky to be late she’s let off early. She quickly puts the lid over the pot and frisks her way into the living room. She plasters a grin on her face. ”You’re home early, hon—how was work?” Her Brooklyn accent high-pitched and somewhat overly cheerful.

    ”Damn…woulda thought it was going outta business or something with how packed ma’s shop was! Absolutely ridiculous is what that was,” Nicky chuckles, stepping out of her shoes and walking closer to the short brunette. Immediately, the stress of her work day diminishes and in turn is replaced with an adoring smile. ”How was your day, baby? It smells heavenly in here, by the way—what are ya up to?”

    Lorna wraps her arms around her neck, pulling her in for a tight embrace. A kiss is pressed on the taller woman’s lips. ”It’s Valentine’s Day, Nicky! What’d ya think I’ve been up to? That’s why I was hoping you’d be late…now it won’t be as romantic cause I still gotta finish cooking,” she mutters, her bottom lip quite faintly moved outward in a frown.

    The other mentally slaps herself. Shit, her inner voice yells, how could she have forgotten? It’s only her wife’s most treasured holiday. Her arms drape around Lorna’s waist, drawing her closer. She pecks her tenderly on the cheek and rubs her finger gently around it, ”It doesn’t matter to me when the food’s done, Lorna…you’re all I care about. And the fact that you’d spend the whole day trying to make this day perfect for me—especially when you’re the one who loves it so much—that makes me love you even more. You’re the sweetest woman there is, doll.”

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