The Constellation Andromeda
They had been dancing the entire night through. Meeting on the dance
floor in a perfectly choreographed manner that did not seem possible
for real life. It was like a dream sequence in a movie, or the ballet
portion of a Rogers and Hemerstien musical, mythical and unreal. And
both seemed, on a physical level, built for one another as precise
moves took them from one dance to the next, waltz, salsa, tango…
The taller of the two, appropriately in the lead, some called her a
severe woman, militaristic and cold, but those that knew her well
understood that she was indeed a lady. The strictest sense of the word
observed in her reserved hairstyle, light brown hair tightly slicked
into a uniform bun. The palest of rose pink lipstick noticeable on her
only when she grinned and hazelnut colored eyes calmly reaching from
behind circular framed glasses. The lady dipped her partner, as the
melody died away, her lips lingering painfully close to the shorter
woman's neck. Touching upon the pale skin briefly as, slowly, she
helped the young woman stand.
Not a word had been uttered since they found each other. Just the
dance, the movements and music doing all the speaking that needed to
be done. A spark of heat burning across and through both as they
caught their breaths and stared into each other's eyes. And the band
played what most in the dance hall understood was to be the last song
of the evening, as the two women pulled together, bodies leading the
way, marking the steps.
The shorter of the two looked dizzy, as if all the dancing, all the
unspoken thoughts were too much a surprise for her. No one had ever
read her so well before. And while the lady was an almost stoic form,
the shorter woman was nimble, the figure of a professional dancer. Her
heart ready to leap from her chest whenever her violet-gray eyes
stared too deeply into the brown before her. Passion, lust… it echoed
back between the two when they moved. Bolder as the night wore on
because the young woman trusted the lady to lead her safely, let a
near graceful hand sweep through her ruddy brown hair.
Applause in the distance was the death knell for the evening. Praise
for the band flittering around the two women who could, at that
moment, only see each other. The crowd around them was thinning,
background voices making plans to go to a restaurant, or mutterings of
good-byes and the young woman was sure those she had come with would
be looking for her but… despite her cautionary nature regarding
romantic interludes she could not… No, she would not deny herself what
the lady was promising. Forever or one night it didn't matter as she
silently accepted the invitation. The two walked out of the dance hall
together pausing briefly for their lips to meet, tasting the words
their voices could not supply.
And where are we fading to
Are we but softness and light
Are we but flashes in the air
Where are we going to
Will you remember this
Will you forget
If I lose you tomorrow
Will you beg for today
And are we
Images and nothing
Shadows and dust
Tell me
Where are we fading to
Where are we going
His jaw had been locked and clenched the entire evening, dark eyes
watching the two women with a spark of furry in his eyes. There were
those he wanted to blame. Those he wanted to accuse of ruining his
plans, and they ran hotter when he heard the chuckle behind him. He
spun around to met with stormy blue eyes and a delectable smirk.
"Honestly Nichol, you look like a little boy ready to have temper
tantrum", the woman breezed.
"Tell me this wasn't your doing?"
She arched an eyebrow and then peered over his shoulder catching the
quick exchange between the two women who had owned the dance floor the
whole of the evening. Then she brought her gaze back to the young man
before her and sighed patiently. The parking lot was still crowded
with people making plans, night air warm, and stars invisible.
"Why would you think I had anything to do with it?"
"Dorothy, I mean it."
"Do tell me, what was a worse blow to your ego tonight…losing the lady
or the chance to ruin Barton's stepsister?" Her grin spread just a
little more as he sneered. "Can't have it all Nicholai." She pat him
on the shoulder. "Let's to dinner. I'm starving."
He nodded and then asked because he was curious, "So, you approve?"
"It's not for me to approve or disapprove, Nichol dear… She's mine.
Hell or high water, games or vengeance, lust or love…she'll come back
to me."
"You sound so sure."
Dorothy shook her head, "We own each other… marked each other… fifty
years or another lifetime she'll find her way back to me. And I will
find my way back to her. Now…let's go eat, and I'll find something to
occupy that bruised ego of yours."
Once
Twice
It was nice
But you know we go
Off and on to our separate corners
Laugh about the time
Make fun of the rhyme
Because through silence and spell
You know very well
Lasting is a joke
And forever…
Is hollow sound
Things always looked different in the quiet space of the morning
after. The light of day brought the shadowed details into the
foreground. The large collection of well worn books on the shelves,
the perfectly polished shine of the antique furniture, including the
bedposts, and the soft and subtle scent that was an obvious after
effect of the tiny, and fragile perfume bottles uniformly cluttering
the top of the dresser. She was sitting on the edge of the queen sized
bed, crisp white sheet sloppily draped around her waist, top bare and
exposed, unable to stick to her plans of escaping before the lady
woke.
There were a million things she wanted to blame…dancing, her
stepbrother for insisting she get out of the house, but mostly her
self for not being strong enough to fight whatever pull had forced her
into the lady's arms, a pull that was decidedly delicate and tender.
She sucked in a deep breath as she turned to watch the lady sleeping.
So different in the light… softer… every single commanding feature of
the lady less controlled and rigid. Violet-gray eyes playing over a
near flawless back, marred only by the partially hidden tattoo peeking
from under sheets. It was a curious almost familiar design and if
Catherine Bloom had not feared waking the lady she would have pulled
the sheet back father so she could see the rest of it. On cue the
slightly older woman began to stir. Catherine reached out to touch the
woman next to her, fingers gracing a supple shoulder.
"You stayed" the lady whispered, turning onto her side, slight smile
running over her lips.
Catherine wasn't sure what to do. She could lean back into the
pillows, or stay where she was…away and detached, safe and sound.
"What's your name?" She sat up ignoring the sheets gliding away from
her, reaching out a hand to pull Catherine's retreating gaze to her
own. "I don't believe I caught it last night."
"Catherine."
"Catherine", the lady echoed and it sounded like a song. "Catherine
I'm Une." Her eyes seemed to spark when she said it, then she chuckled
at an unspoken joke.
"Une?" She quirked an eyebrow.
"Last name", was the reply. "My first name is my little secret."
"Anyone privy to that secret?"
Une's smile turned from amused to mischievous as she slid closer to
the smaller young woman. Arms easing Catherine back into the plush and
warm bed.
So different…
The way their lips met less hurried and ravenous then the previous
evening. Une's brown hair tousled around her shoulders, nothing
uniform or militaristic about her. Catherine found herself shivering
at the touch. She hated not being in control, not knowing what was
next. If it was a fling or the start of something she could not tell.
Her mind told her it was a brief affair and her heart echoed the
sentiment but secretly wished for something deeper. Either way she was
sure the lady would leave her bruised.
"I love that you're unsure"; Une said as she pulled away. "You always
seemed so confident whenever I saw you."
"When did you see me?"
"With your stepbrother…I've known him for ages you know."
"He never ment-"
"Of course he wouldn't", she smiled, dipping back to reclaim the
sweetness of the lips below her. "He wouldn't want to give you any
ideas."
"Like running off and sleeping with someone I've never even said two
words to?" She winked.
"Exactly like that." Une sat back. "Funny how protective he is of
you."
Catherine shook her head. "He cares… we're all we have. Listen I…"
"Want to leave?" The lady pinned Catherine to the bed. "I don't want
you to leave just yet."
"When do you want me to leave?"
Hazelnut brown eyes shut briefly and then opened as she replied, "When
we're through."
I can feel your touch
Soft and sweet
Gentle and easy
Guiding me along
Why me
And in the distance
There is an end waiting
Dark and sad
Brief and still
Why me
Why need my lips
My kiss
My hips and scent
Why breathe me in
Why me
And I know you are called to another
A something you can't fight
A lighter touch that means so much
Why me
Why me
They had fallen asleep again when a phone ringing ripped the slumber
from them. Une slid out of the bed and from the hallway Catherine
could hear all the deciding factors. The lady walked back into the
room whispered a sigh and watched the disappointment grow on her first
time lover's face. First time? Only time? Whatever it had to end...
Didn't it?
"I suppose that was someone privy to your first name", Catherine said
finally, sitting up, ready to gather her things and leave.
"It was." She raised an eyebrow as the young woman began to move.
"Want to met her?"
"I don't think-"
"She wants to met you…but you know her already", she paused and then
considered, "Or so I was lead to believe."
Une's gaze was unavoidable, penetrating, sought and found answers far
too easily. Catherine tried looking away but found she could not.
"That tattoo", Catherine muttered. "On your lower back…what does it
mean?"
"Goddess."
"And your goddess…does she have a similar mark?"
"Yes…hers says-"
"Lady", she interrupted. "Don't so this to me."
The lady stalked closer, took a seat next to the young woman, wrapped
an arm around a dancer's perfect waist, and kissed her shoulder, "She
says it's fine… Come with me?"
"Une, I-"
"Please", she traced her fingers over a small spot on the dancers
lower back. Fingers perfectly mimicking the black ink of the tattoo
that resided there. "Please, 'my star'… It will do us all some good."
She brushed back Catherine's ruddy brown hair, clearing a space to
rest her lips and take a taste, leave a mark.
You, me, her
You, me, her
Over and over
A snake eating its own tale
You
Me
Her
And who loves who more
Is never really answered
Because who loves who more
Was never the question asked
You, me, her
Me, you, her
Her, me, you
We're lost
Found again in something that kills
A darkness thick that answers all
It's not about the love
It's about the fall
"You lied to me", he hissed bitterly as she passed him.
"Did I?"
"You said it wasn't your doing."
She smirked, "It wasn't. I had nothing to do with any of it." She
glanced over her shoulder the restaurant was full of people and she
was expected at a far corner booth. "Shouldn't you get back to work
Nichol?"
"How could you?"
"Don't start with me", the goddess warned. "I said you couldn't have
it all… I don't recall saying I couldn't."
He growled, "It's unfair to the lady."
"I enjoy your concern but she's the one who went and grabbed the other
not me. You lost Nichol… so are you going to pay the price or not?"
"Fine… You won't be so lucky next time."
"If you say so…now", she reached into her pocket and pulled out a
card. "This is his number. Give him a call and for God's sake be
polite when he kisses you goodnight." She handed over the card, which
he snatched away quickly. "Trowa's so lucky to have you", she pat his
cheek quickly and practically skipped off to her table.
A game isn't a game until its won
Until it ends and there is victor
Trophies given I'm out ahead
Trophies given…
I'm lucky for such friends
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