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You know people don't understand. Not really. Explaining she's your sister helps, and their eyes light like you've given them a piece of the puzzle, but then dim only moments later when they seem to realize a new blank space has been revealed in its wake.
Eliza calls you close; "Closer than if you'd been sisters from birth."
And sometimes that makes your heart murmur with warmth, and you smile because it feels like a good thing.
But sometimes Alex's eyes drop away from Eliza's and she shuffles the smallest step away from you like she hears something in her mother's words that you don't, and you're left feeling like you should be ashamed.
You're not.
But sometimes she is.
And you sometimes wish something was different, easier, okay.
Because Eliza tells her to be your protector, your sister, your strength, your first line of defense, your support, your soft place to land.
And she takes that to heart, and she does it all perfectly. She always has, she always will.
Alex loves you. Fiercely, entirely, forever and beyond.
Her mother should be proud. Alex should be proud.
But Alex is so often ashamed, like for all she's ever done for you, it all falls to dust when she presses her mouth against yours.
Like being your protector means less than nothing when her breath is hard and uneven in the crook of your neck, when her hands map every inch of your bare skin, when she's desperate to take you inside her.
You wish people could understand; she is your big sister, your best friend, your hero, your comfort, and your soul mate.
The universe bent itself around the two of you, twisted time and thousands of light-years to bring the two of you together. You are the gift the universe delivered straight to her door. You were born thirty-seven years before her, then waited for her for twenty-four. You waited for her. You were always meant for her, you were created for her. And she for you.
So, in the face of all of that, how can anyone turn up their nose up at the two of you when you come together, press your bodies and souls together, and just need each other?
Alex is the most beautiful thing in the universe. And she is yours. She belongs to you, and you belong entirely to her.
How can someone look at that and seen anything ugly about it?
How can Alex see anything ugly about it?
But…you do actually know what Alex thinks the ugly part is. She's your big sister, and she's supposed to protect you from the predators of the world. Except, in her mind, she is the predator, and she's failed you.
You're her little sister, and you turn her on, make her wet, make her want. You're her little sister, and she loves seeing your blue eyes staring up at her from between her legs. You're her little sister, and she loves watching you come for her, knows what every inch of your body tastes like, and she can list every vulgar thing that drives you completely wild.
You're her little sister, and she's the only person you've ever had in your bed. First to last, it's only her.
And you know she loves that, loves you.
And you know she hates that, hates herself.
You know she wishes, in equal parts, that she could be proud of you in the daylight, and that she'd never kissed you that fateful night.
It hurts you to see it in her eyes. You want to kiss that look away. You want her to be proud of you, the both of you, together. You want her to imagine the future you do; a house, a family, a white picket fence, a life, a forever.
Your sister. Your wife. Your soul.
You want to be hers, and you want everyone to know you're hers. You want a stupid piece of paper that says exactly that. You want Eliza to smile at her, tell Alex she got luck with you, tell her to hold on tight to you and never let go.
You want to stop wondering if she'll ever let go.