Bette paused at the sight of Tina. She was standing over the desk shuffling papers within an open folder, soft strawberry blonde tresses framing her face as she looked down in concentration. Casting her gaze down, Bette took in the familiar curvature of Tina’s body in a black tank top, work shirt cast aside on the armchair nearby, and her fitted maroon trousers brushing her ankles. She had the sudden and overwhelming sensation of this being a vision of her whole life, captured in one glorious frame. Tina turned her head at the noise of the door closing behind Bette, and her lips curved into a smile. I could die in that smile, Bette thought.

”Hey,” Tina greeted as she padded barefoot over to Bette, sharing a chaste kiss on her cheek and a brief hand on Bette’s hip, like no time had passed.

”Hi,” Bette responded into Tina’s ear quietly and they stayed like that for a moment, a pause from the flow of time.

”You came.” It was a statement rather than an exclamation. Bette’s smile blossomed softly, basking in the warmth of Tina’s gaze as she gradually stepped back, the connection unbroken.

”I brought a bottle of red to drink,” Bette said, holding up the bottle lamely. ”I’m not sure if it’s any good?”

Accepting the bottle with a smile, Tina pivoted and headed towards the kitchenette. ”I’m sure it will be perfect,” she responded as Bette slid out of her shoes. Making her way to the centre of the lounge, Bette was drawn to the expanse offered by the floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the sky outside. It was hard to remember what she was so nervous about before – everything she had been thinking had slipped away the moment she had opened the door.

”How are things at Burbank?” Bette asked, leaning over to pick up an ornament from the coffee table to inspect it. Tina was working the corkscrew into the bottle tucked under her arm. Bette watched her with renewed fascination, the way her nose scrunched up when she was concentrating, the small smile when she achieved her goal.

”Better than I thought, actually. Not as much of a mess as I anticipated,” Tina replied, pouring the second glass of wine and eyeing them up to make sure they were relatively even. Bette sat on the sofa as Tina passed her a glass, their fingers briefly touching. She cradled her glass as she watched Tina lean down to place the open bottle on the coffee table.