Heartstrings

Round and round we go

Diane scoffs internally, the woman openly flirting as she stands right there. It gets her thinking about the brunette from when they first walked in. She wasn't flirting with Edith but still, the fact that she looked at her that way sparked jealousy. Marina could definitely tell the two were there together. However, she also picked up on the way Diane didn't claim her when she was obviously flirting with the younger girl.

The pair take a seat at a table while they wait for their orders and Diane eyes Edie curiously. "So, do you like it here?" she asks quietly, "umm... yeah. It's nice" Edith replies shyly with a small smile. "I love coming here, it's so beautifully decorated" Diane prompts, "that's certainly true. It feels very cozy and safe" the younger woman smiles wider and the brunette across from her narrows her eyes a little.

Edith's pov
"For you, pretty girl" I look up to see the woman from behind the counter, placing my drink in front of me before Diane's. I also notice a little croissant and as I go to tell her I didn't order it, she places a hand on her chest which redirects my attention. "Just a little something I thought you might like" her eyes burn into mine as her soft accented voice pleasures my ears.

In a way I feel defenseless to her tactics so I 'accidentally' brush my foot against Diane's for a little help. "Thank you" she responds quickly and I smile softly, "Of course. If you need anything else, I'm Marina. I own the place" she smirks. "Oh? We were just saying how much we love the decorations, it's beautiful what you've done here" I praise. Normally I wouldn't be so forward or talkative but again, Marina just has some disarming quality.

"Well... thank you both" she says with a different look in her eyes than before, I feel less of a pull so whatever happened—I'm thankful for it. She leaves and I turn to Diane who follows the woman with her eyes. "What have you been up to?" I ask timidly to get her attention, "oh, me? Nothing really. Just... working, sleeping... repeat" she chuckles nervously.

"Nice, nice... meet any new people?" I mentally slap myself because what was that for me to ask? "Haha... no. I don't really... do that" she sighs, "me either" I chuckle hesitantly. It's silent between us for a while and I slide the croissant over to her to see if she'd like some and she takes a bite, nodding to say it's good. "Have I... done something—again?" I ask softly and she quickly shakes her head, "no... you're perfect" she mumbles before biting her lip.

"Umm r-remember that lady—well I don't if you saw her but—from when we first came in... the brunette?" I question and she simply nods. "I'm really into art and she's... the creative director of the California Art Center. She did this brilliant collaboration with the Peggy Peabody collection to show Provocations which is legendary. I mean the CAC is such a quaint little gallery that it's almost a miracle that we're able to snag such an acclaimed piece" I ramble and Diane listens intently as she smiles.

"I was... well I was thinking about approaching her, you know? Just because I really enjoy her work and I've never met a celebrity before. Plus, her fight for radical pieces is what really sparked my interest in art in the first place. I mean she's so talented and very pretty too, of course, but so intelligent and... I saw her in the newspaper one day and I was like—wow—it inspired me" I blabber on with a grin.

I see Diane swallow a lump in her throat and I eye her curiously as she opens her mouth to speak. "Edith..." she whispers, "yes?" I prompt with trepidation. "I love you" she mumbles but I hear her clear as the glass-pane window. I stare at her with my jaw slacked, not knowing how to respond to her bold statement. She looks just as shocked as me but with one major difference, the tears making her eyes glisten.

She blinks but they never seem to fall, permanently suspended like the silence between us. My mouth moves but I can't form words, my brain frozen and refusing to thaw. I blink rapidly as I look away from her, pleading with myself to come up with something. "I'm sorry, I-" she whispers but can't even bring herself to finish before standing up.