Red

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Ten years later was the first time I had met her. I was forced into the same cell as her, covered in bruises and dirt. My latest kill involved hunting, so I wasn't as clean as I could have been.

I stumbled onto the ground, falling onto my hands and knees. She smirked at me from the corner, leaning against the dirty wall, her hair a massive afro atop her round face. "Nice to meet you, cheré." I snapped my head up to look at her.

"French, hm? Exotic. I like it." I winked at her and her smirk widened.

"Je pense que je vous aime trop, ma chérie."

#

I was there for three weeks, and in that time, I quickly fell into a spiralling love.

I learned so much about her, and in turn, she learned things about me that I thought would forever stay in the darkness of my heart.

"You fluently speak French, huh? Where are you from?" We sat in front of each other, legs crossed. She had my hand in hers, playing with my fingers. I ignored the fluttering in my chest as she touched me with her soft hands, and focused on her answer.

"I'm from New Orleans, mon amour. I'm Creole. I was born in Haiti, but that's because my mom's master was on vacation."

"So you were born into this?" She shook her head, smiling.

"No, I wasn't. I was too young, remember? But one day, when I wss eight years old, my mother just disappeared. So I ran away too. Over the last eleven or twelve tears, I've been living in safe houses, running for most of my life."

"How'd you get in here, then?" She smiled.

"Something told me that I'd find someone to make me happy." She kissed my hand, and stood up to stretch, her shirt riding up. I stared at the smooth caramel sliver peeking out, imagining the things I could do to her.

"-cheré! Are you okay?" Her worried hazel eyes peered at me, and I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"I'm fine." I smiled, and she smiled back at me.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom, okay? I'll be back." I nodded, and she sashayed away, her hips swaying in her tight shorts. I ignored the way the pit of my stomach burned, and went back to the drawing I was creating on the concrete floor.

#

Later that night, we sat together on the floor, the moon peering through the window our only light.

"Do you ever think you'll be able to fall in love?" She shrugged.

"I want to, but at the same time, I hope I don't."

"Why not?" She smiled wistfully.

"Well, what happens when she leaves?" She looked at me, her hazel eyes sad. I realized what she meant.

"I don't want to think about that." She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off with my lips slanting across hers. She immediately wrapped her arms around me, holding me safe and secure to her soft body.

"What are we going to do?" She broke the kiss to look at me, her eyes full of fear. I could understand why.

It was against the rules for two women to get into a relationship together at the auction house. I didn't care though. I would give anything to have a relationship with her.

"What's today's date?" Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"November 4th, why?" I pretended to shiver and cuddled into her arms.

"Oh look, I'm just so cold." I winked at her and got closer. She laughed and wrapped her arms around me.

"I'm so happy I found you, mon amour."

#

"Where'd you get this scar from?"I pointed to one on her hand, blemishing the smooth pigment.

"Always wear gloves, cheré." She winked.

I winked back, knowing what she meant.

#

The guards had given us pencils amd paper to write to our families with, but neither one of us knew what to do with it, since we didn't have a family. We placed it in the corner, for whenever we needed it.

That night, I had gotten up to go to the bathroom. When I returned, I paused in my step, looking her snoring on the ground quietly. I quickly picked up the paper, and began sketching.

#

The next morning, she shook me awake. I popped my neck, and kissed her.

"Goodmorning, love." She smiled at me, but then noticed the paper in my hands.

"What's this, cheré?" She gazed at it for a second, confused.

"Mon amour, who is this?" I came up behind her, and wrapped my arms around her.

"You, obviously. It's not very good, I know-"

"This isn't me." I slowly nodded.

"Yes it is."

"Il ne peut pas être. I'm not that beautiful, mon amour." I snorted.

"Yes you are, love. You just don't see it."

#

Soon though, I had to leave. It was the third time I was put in the auction while I was there, once a week. It was strange, being up there more than once at a time. But while I was there, I noticed something.

The girls and women with the darker skin tones, like her, never even got a second glance, and if they did they went for a very, very low price. It was strange, to see not just sexism, but racism at play as well.

I was bought this time though, for 2 million, like normal. I hid my horrified look until we got back into the cell.

"Love, what are we going to do?"

"Cheyenne," she spit out.

"What?"

"My name is Cheyenne." I smiled softly at her, and took her into my arms.

"You have such a beautiful name. It fits."

We sat together, for another hour before the guard came back to collect me. As I left, she whispered into my ear the words I would cling to until I saw her again.

"Sourires pâle sur les lèvres de la jeune femme flétrie, sa douleur trop grande de n'importe quel ennemi. Je vais compter les jours jusqu'à ce que je vois à ce que votre flamme arrive à moi. J'taime, mon amour."