Authors Note- I've split up the 6,000 words into three parts so it's easier to read. I hope y'all enjoy the plot!
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When I felt Cleo wrapping her arm around my waist, our sides brushing together, heat crumbled my body. It was like feeling sandpaper against my body, so harsh, yet blissful at the same time. I gave her a look that I hope she never recognized, for it pooled all of the infatuations in my mind. There was no way I could not continue to be entranced by her.
She was wearing something in baby blue, the dress far too short for any public event. Her hair was wrapped in a bandana, and her eyes shone back at me. She looked like the end of the road, and it made me fall madder in love.
We spent the night chatting up: about the plethora of locations to visit in New York City, the problems with our parents, some interesting literature, and some wildly illicit jokes. Since both of us were tipsy, we decided to stay back at the underground club. I knew the club manager, and he let us both have a room at the bar.
It was far past 3 am, and the noise of traffic from cars had finally begun running down. I was getting a bit bored of the alcohol, so I decided to grab the karaoke mic, and sing something half-done.
"This is a song that I've been working on for the past couple of days, so if you'll allow me, let me sing you this aubade," I said, pulling out the cables for the mic.
"All ears, mademoiselle," Cleo nodded, her eyes fixated upon mine.
My fingers gingerly worked on starting up the piano melody. I switched between A minor and A7 before slowly brushing past an E minor. I opened my mouth, and the lyrics began pouring out of my lips
"If you'd let me, I'd love you like the space has its stars. If you'd let me, I'd fill up all the cameras in the world with photos of your smile. If you'd let me, I'd take you slow dancing, in the middle of the rain, and call out your name. If you'd let me, I'd wake you up with breakfast in bed," I sang, slowly prodding away at the piano keys.
"Why don't you then? It's raining outside and nobody's there. Slow dance with me. Scream my name out," she whispered, climbing up the stage.
My hands continued to play the chords, my fingers moving to the B minor. My lips didn't stop singing. My mind was hesitant to take her up, very aware that she'd run away if she knew me. I saw her fingers lingering in the air and I couldn't put it away for longer. Closing the piano, I accepted the offer, pulling her hand in mine, and ran us out of the speakeasy. I pulled her into the side roads and up a ladder coiled around the side of an apartment. The view of New York City from the terrace was much clearer, painting the background for her soul to shine in.
The rain fell slowly, scattering the cement leisurely. I saw her eyes light up at the sight of the towers, my heart immediately fluttering. I could already feel the butterflies starting to dot my skin, sending tingles through my arms.
"May, I?" She asked, picking up my hand into hers.
"You, may," I responded, brushing my fingers into her hair.
She kissed my hand, bringing it to her shoulders before swiftly spinning me around. The rain was pouring, and both of our shirts were practically translucent. My temple pressed against hers, and we moved to the sound of thunder. It felt like she was sedating my mind.
The serenity of the rain made enough music to run wild, for both of us to dance like no one else was watching. I took her arm and watched her face as I spun her around, seeing how she only had one dimple. I pulled her into me, her back now placed on the top of me. I let her stand on my feet, watching her shout as loud as she could. I couldn't do much more other than to just watch her with glee.
I could feel her arms start to fiddle at my sides, hesitantly gracing my hips. I pressed her chest closer to mine, our lips pulling a mere inch apart. When they finally touched a few seconds later, I swore I became water. My lungs were drowning me from the inside out, and I felt the rest of our bodies wither away, leaving just our lips, still touching. It felt like a summer dream, the first glimpse of heaven, like a field of poppies, and the most invigorating scent of perfume I'd ever worn. Cleo felt like a glass of red wine, and I was drinking all of her in. She felt like the point in time I'd yearned for years. She felt like every puzzle piece I'd lost as a child.
Her fingers were cupping my cheeks, and our lips languidly moved past each other. It was so simple and nonchalant. I became a pool of hot chocolate underneath her feet, being melted by the tremors in my bones. She wasn't my first kiss, but she's the only one who's made me ever feel like this.
Her hand was holding steady at the nape of my neck, leaving virtually no space between the two of us. The bridge of her nose pressing against mine made me all kinds of helpless, the strawberry taste of her lips making it even worse. I hadn't even realized that we'd tripped over-or the fact that she was now on top of me. I just continued to get high on her, so high that I felt numb. Neither of us came back for air, and we didn't pull apart for what felt like hours.
She slowly moved our lips apart, lipstick smudged at the sides of her mouth as it curled into a smile. Moving her lips next to my ear, she whispered,
"Call out my name."
"Cleo."
"Louder."
"Cleo."
"Louder."
"CLEO!"
..
Cleo had been seeing where Bette was standing since they were together in the restroom. She was clearly married, swooning about a man standing next to her, and leaving pecks on his cheeks and lips every so often. She felt the urge to walk over to her, grab her wrist gently and take her somewhere to just talk. Bette's laugh emitted from the other side of the ballroom, which only rebottled the sound in Cleo's heart.
She watched as Bette's eyes were in wanderlust, searching for something, and as her husband didn't care enough to follow it. It was becoming unbearable and overwhelming. Every peek of her that Cleo could consume from across made it so much more unbearable, and wild.
She slowly watched the clock turn from eight to nine to ten, and finally, to eleven. Their lucky number. Realizing that she couldn't take it anymore, Cleo walked over to Bette, to just talk to her about everything.
"Hi Bette," she said, tapping slowly on Bette's shoulder.
The way that Bette's skin erupted goosebumps showed that she knew who it was. She reluctantly turned around, trying to cough back a sob that ended up coming out as an awkward noise.
"Do you know this woman, love?" Dion asked, waving away at the people they were making their pleasantries to.
"I do. We go way back, honey," Bette responded, shaking Cleo's hand.
"I was wondering if I could borrow Bette for a few moments. I have some unfinished matters to discuss with her," Cleo whispered, holding their fingers together for longer than was necessary.
"Be back soon, my darling. I'll miss you" Dion retorted, kissing Bette on the cheek before letting her fingers go.
They both practically ran from the dance floor, popping their heads into various rooms and grounds for private space. Settling on back gardens, the one place that seemed vacant, and hoping to be concealed by the luxuriant grounds laid out. Cleo found them a few park benches, but both of them were too stiff to even want to sit down.
"How the hell are you here? You died the night of the accident," Bette said, placing her hands on her head as shock still pricked at her heart.
"I never died. My parents found me and took me back. I tried resisting, but without money for the hospital, I had a weak case," Cleo responded, trying to string together a better explanation for her unfinished response.
"And you couldn't care to tell me? Why are you even back here? Why are you even talking to me right now? I don't have anything more to give to you," Bette's voice wobbled as she stood up from the bench.
"I thought you still loved me and I could give you an explanation-" Cleo muttered before being cut off.
"I loved you?" Bette abruptly stopped pacing at the marbled water fountain, an incredulous expression plastered on her face. "No. I don't love you. I'm drenched in the stench of how much warmth I wanted you with. I live with the guilt that I'll never truly love Dion because how could I ever stop loving you? How could I stop giving all of me to the one person who promised me that I'd be hers forever? I've cut coils, through myself, to try to find you again. You made my love a painful place to stay in, tearing my skin apart, and let me wilt like the wisteria in our garden. I saw them, run over to you, place you in a bed, and tell me the that you were dead. You were dead. I tried cutting the oxygen mask so I could join you in the afterlife. I ran in circles, trying to find you, trying to live with your ghost. I loved you so much that my dreams stopped belonging to me. I was submerged in black and white, and never saw color from the minute your blood was spread through my arms. You pretended to heal my bullet wounds just to run a dagger through my back. You promised me you'd never leave me. You promised. I never loved you, Cleo. I lived for you. So I apologize for not being thrilled about you standing in front of my face trying to explain why the fuck you never called me back!" Bette screamed. It felt as if her agony was drowning her, the aching pressure in her lungs neverending.
Silence lingered through the air for the next couple of minutes. The only thing they could hear was the gush of Bette's fingers moving through the fountain water. Both of their eyes were red and puffy, streaming silent tears. After what felt like hours, Cleo sighed, walking over to Bette and opened her mouth.
"Oh my,
I've dipped through my sanity like honey from the midnight farms,
But I've lost the high I looked for.
Come back from the war for
My heart has been made friable,
And I feel like I've become your clandestine.
The people of this town couldn't match your heart,
And that eats me alive.
The neighbors stare at me weird,
Like the stars in my eyes aren't dreamy.
Like the love in my heart isn't real.
I don't want your penance to become my poverty,
So, rush, my sweet love.
Rush into my arms once more,
Seal into my lips like hot wax,
And let me burn with you.
Let me bleed with you.
Let me love with you.
The birds are starting to bore me,
The picnics are repetitive,
I've finished the liquor,
Paper fails to understand me,
And the piano is becoming unstable.
Hurry back,
And make me a fool in love again.
Your mistress,
Ms. Maorine," Cleo whispered, joining the fountain's slow sounds.
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Thanks for reading!