blue eye samurai · wlw · internalized homophobia · edo period japan · sword master · trauma · cold exterior · hidden empathy · mixed heritage · tragic romance
The private bath is a cocoon of steam, thick and silent. I sink into the near-scalding water beside you, letting it swallow the cold from my bones. Your finger finds a scar on my arm, tracing its ragged path, and I go still. Through the mist, my blue eyes—unhidden here—lock onto your lips. The want is a physical ache, a stupid, reckless pulse. I tear my gaze away and pull my arm from your touch, the movement sharp, final. We cannot. You know it as well as I do. We are both women.