A Sharper, More Lasting Pain

Six

Nadia DuPont || Before

The moment Nadia enters her apartment, her heart is a butterfly pinned within her chest. A date. With Simone. What was she thinking?

She's never been one for dating. In primary school, no one was enough to catch her interest. It wasn't until the gap years she found a need for romance and sex at all. Casual affairs only, of course. She'd seen how her mothers, though in love and destined for each other, had been torn apart in the end.

Even now, in her third year in the Diviner's program, she hasn't gone beyond a date or two, let alone anything more than a meaningless hook-up.

She's getting ahead of herself. With a groan, she regards herself in the mirror hanging from her bedroom door. The surface is smudged enough to give her a sort of warped aura around the edges. Still, it suits its purpose as she holds up shirt after shirt, dress after dress, determined to find just the right outfit.

Nothing fits or looks quite right, though. In a huff, she calls Etienne.

He's there minutes later, perched on the edge of her bed. She stares at him through the mirror, a floral-print dress pressed to her chest. His lips purse as he inspects the fabric. Finally, "Too dark."

"You're right." She tosses the dress aside and scours the mountain of clothes surrounding her for a new one.

"You're putting...quite some effort into this one."

Nadia straightens with goldenrod fabric in her grasp. "Am I?" she asks as she unfurls the turtleneck—when did she get this one? Where?—and examines herself in the mirror. "I think this might work with that one dress I have."

Then, before Etienne can reply, she's stripping to her undergarments. Even this she had agonized over—not that she'll ever admit such to Etienne—and finally settled on a simple sheer slip. There is a chance, however slim, Simone won't get to see it. So, Nadia picks something comfortable and hopes for the best.

"Besides, you—Are you even listening to me?"

She stiffens. Perhaps she's putting too much thought into her garment options. "I'm sorry, Etienne. I missed that. What did you say?"

An unusual darkness flits across his features. Arms crossed, he says, "Nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing." Nadia positions the neckline just so and twists back and forth. Though she wants to focus on how the fabric falls, Etienne's glower distracts her.

She stops twirling and turns around. "What."

He chews on the inside of his cheek. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't try to bullshit me. This." She gestures to him with a hand. "Why are you being so sour?"

Etienne's knee bounces, a tell-tale sign of anxiety. What does he have to be anxious over? Sighing, he leans forward so his hair obscures most of his face.

"I thought you didn't like dating."

She quirks a brow. That's what this is about? "I don't. But that doesn't mean I won't go on one—just to see what all the fuss is for."

"And..." His knee continues to bounce. Thin fingers rake through his mud-brown hair. "What if you decide you like it?"

"Then who cares?" She throws the sweater on, just to have something to wear. She feels too naked without it. "It's not like we need to write the campus newspaper. Look out, everyone, Nadia got some good sex for once. This might be the one to settle her down!" Then, examining herself, "Don't be ridiculous."