How she treasured the moments like this: the soft sensation of the cushions, her companion's skin resting on hers, the silence. Juliet usually felt she had to distance herself from people by talking too much. It was only with people she trusted that she could sit in complete silence without beginning to itch. That she could be naked.

There was only one man in the world who had ever seen flashes of this self. She had always especially feared intimacy with men. No matter whether they tried to be gentle, everything that their sex strove for would hurt her eventually.

But Holly wasn't a man. She wasn't even human. Despite this, they understood each other. They had their differences – girly, tomboy; silly, serious – but at the core, they were the same. Juliet didn't have to pretend with Holly. She couldn't pretend with Holly. She inclined her head slightly to look at the fairy, reminding herself of the lines and curves that harmonised with something inside Juliet's soul.

They fitted together like a pieces of a jigsaw.

She delicately slipped her fingers between Holly's, the separate entities forming one solid mesh. Holly smiled at her through warm sleepiness.

Like a jigsaw.