Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. I don’t know any of the people depicted within it, and am not trying to make a statement about their lives or sexuality.
Warning: Fantasy AU
Summary: Miranda creates sparks.
Liv thought she might be imagining things when she first saw Miranda – golden, slim, and with tiny sparks coming out of her fingers, little drops of light.
“What is that?” Liv whispered.
Orli glanced sideways at her. “Um. That’s Miranda,” he said, sounding confused.
“Her hands…” Liv trailed off. Orli couldn’t see the sparks. Maybe no one else could.
Certainly no one else seemed to notice. No one else was entranced by Miranda’s mobile hands. No one else could see the trails she made when she gestured.
Liv convinced herself it was her imagination. Then one night, from across the room at some barpubrestaurant, Miranda had looked Liv in the eye and traced a flower in the air. It had lingered for a moment, going from crimson to sunshine yellow to deep purple before fading. That’s when Liv knew it was real.
She walked to Miranda’s house the next day. It was too far, but Liv couldn’t ask anyone to drive her. No one else could be around for this.
Miranda didn’t open the door when Liv rang the bell. Liv found her in the backyard, dressed in ordinary t-shirt and jeans. Her hands were buried in rich, moist soil, manipulating roots.
“Hi,” Liv said inadequately.
Miranda smiled, lifted her hands from the flowerbed. Sparks rioted as she brushed her hands against each other, dislodging dirt.
“Why?” Liv asked.
“The others choose not to see,” Miranda told her.
“But why can I see them?”
“Because I choose you to.”
Liv reached out to touch, but the sparks all died before her fingertips hit them.
Miranda trailed a finger down Liv’s bare arm, leaving a trail of grey dirt and faint red marks on the otherwise-flawless white skin. The sparks felt like Liv expected they would, heat and then a pop against her.
“Why me?” Liv asked again.
Miranda smiled again. “Because you are my choice.” She traced a finger over Liv’s lips.