Chiaroscuro and Catgirls

A kiss. Another, gentle kiss, and her soft moan of delight as I withdrew from her and nestled down into her offered arms.

❧

Fingers trailed slowly down from my shoulder to the curve of my bum, gentle, warm, smooth fingertips. I woke, stretched, pointed my toes, made sleepy noises as I rolled from side to stomach.

A soft laugh, and warm skin against mine as she kissed the nape of my neck.

"Hello, pretty girl," she breathed.

"Hello," I slurred, still mostly asleep. "Is it time for me to go?"

"Not just yet... but soon, sadly. I... couldn't bear to wake you, so I've been sneaking around, gathering my things in between admiring you."

I smiled, rolled over, and then further over onto my back. We'd slept naked, skin to skin; and now I was here, partly-exposed under the delightfully-smooth Egyptian cotton that clad her perfect bed.

"Kiss me again," I whispered; she made a noise, and I felt her breath as she moved in to do so. I clasped my arms behind her neck, holding her to me, loving the sigh she let out as she turned her head to push her cheek to mine.

Then she pulled back and knelt, staring down at me. Her smile was wistful, almost sad.

"My Taxi's on the way," she said. "I'm flying out of Heathrow. I'd far rather get back into bed, and into you... but..."

"Suppose that means I need to get up," I said. "Oh well. It was a nice dream."

She sighed. "Dreams have a habit of fading when you wake."

She eased herself off the bed and tugged her shirt straight again.

"It will take a lot to make me forget last night," I said. I smiled up at her. "Thank you. I had fun."

"Yes. Well. So did I, and now I'm going to pay for it. I'm out of practice and I'm stiff and tender. You wore me out, you minx."

I grinned. "It was a bit of a romp, I suppose."

"A bit. But so, so nice. Something to cherish."

She turned away and stood. "Coffee?" she added, softly.

"That would be nice."

"I'll get it going while you get dressed. I'd say decent but I think that's a bit of a stretch for either of us, isn't it?"

Her wink was wicked; I laughed, loving her playfulness, and admired her toned bum in its sheath of tight, pin-stripe trousers as she turned to retreat.

I slid my legs out from under the covers. She'd found and folded my jeans and shirt for me; she'd also left me a choice of underwear - mine, or the blatant hint - a sheer black number that clearly belonged to her and that she clearly wanted me to wear. I chose hers and tucked mine into my bag, which she'd placed neatly beside her desk.

It felt a little strange to pull her underwear on; they fitted, mostly, a little loose in the waist due to my lack of curves - but they'd do to get me home. But they weren't mine, and I thoroughly enjoyed that little bit of knowledge.

I yawned, ran my fingers through my hair to get the worst of the kinks out before I dug my hairband out of my jeans pocket. I didn't bother with my bra; my jacket would hide my bee-stings, and besides, she'd probably enjoy the view. So into the bag it went, alongside my wrecked panties... my gift-wrapping, as it were.

I liked the idea of being unwrapped. I particularly liked the idea of being unwrapped by her. It warmed the chilly places inside me.

I pulled my jeans on, and then my tee shirt. I slipped my feet back into yesterday's still-serviceable socks. I yawned again, picked up my bag, and padded through back to her living space.

She glanced up from her phone and gave me a frank appraisal; a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she looked me up and down.

"You make bed-hair look lovely," she said. "Come here so I can see you better."

I dropped my bag and sauntered over to her; I removed the phone from her hands and set it aside, then fiddled with her collar while she stared up at me.

"What is it?" she said, voice shaking ever-so-slightly.

I smiled down at her, and leaned forward to kiss her soft as butterfly kisses.

She shivered.

"I just really like that I can do that to you," I whispered.

"Wreck my panties and give me an arrhythmia?" she answered, amused.

"Make you feel so good," I corrected her. "I... like having that power. I like that you like being touched by me. And..."

"And..." she hinted, as I hesitated.

"I... like that I like you as much as I do."

She sighed.

"I wish I weren't leaving. I wish I could call in sick and tie you to my bed for a week."

"We'd starve..."

"I'd order in for us."

"Maybe when you're back..." I gently probed.

She glanced away. "That... might be a while."

I paused, took a careful breath and tried not to let the sudden chill in my heart show on my face.

"Oh?"

She sighed again.

"I'm like a travelling circus, Viv," she said. "I can't make plans because it feels like the moment I do, the moment I think I have something special to look forward to... something goes wrong somewhere else. I'm supposed to go Africa for a week, but that week could turn to two if I so much as blink... and that's plenty of time for something to kick off in Chile or Peru again. I don't rule my schedule. I wish I did... but I don't."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"I don't know when I'll be back," she said. She found my hand, cradled it in hers. "And... and while that wouldn't have bugged me much before last night, now it bugs me a lot. I... don't want to leave, now. I don't want to have to go. It's nice here with you. I like it here. I want to stay."

She gave me a haunted glance, then quickly looked away again.

"I'd far rather stay," she repeated.

And the chill in my heart melted; fear of being discarded dissipated like a bad dream.

It was tomorrow, and she still wanted me.

"I'll be here." I raised her hand, put it to my cheek, and then to the gap between my undersized breasts. "I'll be here when you get back."

"You will?" she said, almost puzzled. "Why? I mean, I'd love that to be the case, but... why? You're far too nice to... wait around..."

"Because. Because you're kind. You're sweet. You're gentle. You're fantastic in bed," I added. "I like you - a lot. And so... I'll be here for you when you want me."

Her mouth opened, then shut again. She coughed, glanced away as if ashamed of something.

"Now I really wish I weren't going," she whispered.

"Go. You have to go. Work is work - I get it. But come back," I answered. I kissed her cheek, then, to hide my own strange, brittle emotions, I picked up the small cup of black coffee she'd made me. "Thank you. It smells amazing," I whispered.

"Almost as good as you," she answered, voice a husky alto that made me shiver. I pretended not to notice as she brushed at an eye.

Instead, I sat down on the stool next to her and sipped my coffee; she picked up her own and did the same, and for a moment we were just two lovers sharing our breakfast before the start of our day.

It was a nice feeling; I tried to hold onto it, however brief this sense of belonging might be...

But the world intruded as it always did; her phone tinkled.

"The taxi," she said. She picked up her phone. "Five minutes," she added.

I stood; finished my coffee, and rinsed our cups. "Stand them on the rack," she said, "my cleaner will pack them away for me."

She waited while I slid my feet into my plimsolls, then helped me into my jacket; I held my breath and flushed hot as she leaned in close and zipped it slowly up for me.

"There," she whispered. "All safely wrapped up again."

And then she kissed me once, gently as snowflakes on my lips, and I moaned.

"Hah," she said, softly, and kissed me again before releasing me.

She opened the door for me and towed her slim black travel suitcase out after us.

"So little?" I said.

"My work clothes will be waiting for me," she answered, as if it were normal. Perhaps it was for people like her.

She called the lift, and stood beside me, sombrely armoured in her smart black coat.

We descended to the lobby, where two tall, suit-wearing men waited by the Concierge's desk.

"Good morning, Miss Fletcher," said the first, smiling widely.

"Mr Adebayo," she warmly greeted the first. "And who is this?"

"This is Mr Walters, Miss Fletcher," the first man answered, still smiling. "He's the second-best driver I know after yours truly."

"High praise indeed, Mr Walters," she said, holding out her hand to the second.

"Miss Fletcher," he said, as he carefully clasped it. "Mr Adebayo is too kind. May I take your luggage, Ma'am?"

"Thank you," she said. She turned back to the first man. "Felix, this is "Ellie". She needs to get home."

"What?" I said, surprised.

"You didn't seriously think I'd make you use public transport, did you?" she said, winking at me. "Can I trust you to get her there, Felix?"

"You wound me, Miss Fletcher," he said, with a warm, white-toothed grin. "Consider it done."

She touched his arm, then turned back to me. Mutely, she held out her hand to me; I ignored it and went in for a hug, clasping myself tightly to her, wishing beyond wishing that she was not about to leave me.

I felt the sigh she let out; heard Mr Adebayo's soft, pleased sound of approval. I squeezed her hard, then pulled back, and kissed her on the lips, staking my claim to her before our witness.

She was flushed when I let her go; pale-faced but bright-eyed.

"Oh you tart," she whispered. "That's... unfair. Sending me off like that."

"It's to keep you warm. Thank you - for everything. Be safe. Travel safe. See you soon," I said softly in return. "Or else," I added, to make my intentions clear. And I knew she knew, and I knew she was pleased.

And then I turned away. "Shall we?" I asked the beaming Mr Adebayo.

"Of course. This way please, Miss Ellie."

I shot her a glance over my shoulder to make sure she was watching me.

She was.

I turned away; my heart was both full and empty, and the tension between the two states had me perilously close to tears.

Felix Adebayo was the soul of discretion as he whisked me home in his jet-black Audi saloon; he asked no questions of me, giving me just one more wide, silent smile as he bid me farewell.

I laboured up the six flights of stairs, and let myself into my flat, and locked the door.

I dropped my bag, and made it the three steps to my counter before I went to shivering, gulping pieces.

And I'd only just begun to recover when her text arrived; a simple "Boarding now, talk later. Thank you for being so very, very special."

And, like a silly teenage girl, I held my phone to my heart and cried until I was hoarse.

I was in over my head; I'd fallen hard.

I always did. It was a stupid thing I did, and it always ended up hurting me.

Nobody ever wanted me.

I'd got used to it.

Or at least I thought I had.

Because this... the way she'd looked at me, the way she'd wanted to stay...

Oh, this was way worse than it had ever been before.

❧

My eyes felt gritty and my heart still ached; a scant day-and-a-half since I'd kissed her goodbye that somehow felt more like centuries to me.

I hadn't slept much the prior night, and now everything felt... way too sharp and brittle.

But I had people waiting for me, so as much as I wanted to crawl back into my unmade bed... instead I showered, and dressed, and brushed my hair, and did a passable job at my makeup.

And I signed in at my normal time.

"Hey, it's Ellie," I said, barely managing to summon a smile for the camera. I peered at the channel stats, then fiddled with my glasses. My vision was blurred and it was just one more of the long list of things scratching at me.

Five hundred and forty online, with stragglers coming in in dribs and drabs.

I scrubbed at my eyes.

SolarBadger> you look tired Ellie

Moxie> yeah, you ok gorgeous?

I searched for words, then gave up. "Okay," I said, softly. "Okay isn't a word I'd use for me, most days. But I'm okay. I suppose. I finished my commission. It went much better than I'd hoped. But... in the process, I learned something about me that's... proving hard to deal with."

I tacked a sheet of clean card to my easel.

RobsPear> how much did you get?

Moxie> wow, classy

RobsPear> fuck off it's just a question

DragonWang> isn't she supposed to be nude or something

Moxie> >_< omg these fucking noobs

mbak318> *facepalm* DragonWang read the channel description you absolute weapon

QuakerGoats> Guys, how about we all chill and focus on Ellie, yeah?

QuakerGoats> what you drawing, Ellie?

I didn't answer.

Dark lines began to cluster on the page as I roughed in a female form - thin, turned away from the viewer, hair obscuring most of her face. She sat on a wooden stool; a rough table joined her, and then a narrow, window.

And darkness. Darkness all around her, looming over her, in the shadows beneath her chair, in the corners of her room.

But beyond the window, light. The sun, trees, hints of distant mountains.

And black bars between her and them.

And then - just to ensure that I properly wallowed in my stupid present melodrama - I gave her a neck collar and roughed in the heavy chain that fastened it to the wall.

Moxie> omg Ellie

"It's a girl, see," I whispered at last. "A girl who's trapped in her life, in her circumstances - perhaps because of things beyond her control. A girl who spends her days looking out from her prison at the world beyond it."

I coughed, took a breath. "This is how Rembrandt does things with oil," I said, as I tried to throw a light veneer over the bleak nonsense I'd yammered. "If you look at his works, he will pick a detail and make it glow, and sink everything around it into shadow to make the contrast even more noticeable..."

SolarBadger> Ellie... is that you? It is isn't it. Why are you drawing yourself in prison?

Moxie> omg dude it's not her stop reading into things

SolarBadger> Moxie you really are a daft tart sometimes, that is totally her. Look at Ellie and read the room - she's hurting

Moxie> wow. Wow. you sure told me, don't you have a burrow to dig somewhere you stupid fat stripy rat

SolarBadger> XD love you too

Moxie: XD <3

QueerBeer> oh my Christ will you two just stop spamming. Ellie? Are you okay?

"Can I ask you guys something?" I said, blithely ignoring the list of questions I'd just been asked. "Let's say... let's say you meet someone, and you really like them. So you go visit them, and have a fantastic dinner and a really awesome night - the kind you don't want to end, because it's the first time you're happy in so long that you can't remember. The thing is, this person is busy - like, crazy busy, so busy that they've specifically said that they probably won't be around much, but everything they say, everything they do indicates that they had a nice time and that they want something... more. What do you do? Sorry... it's just... I'm not good at people. And... and I don't have anyone I can ask. I don't have anyone. Here, in real life, I mean."

I took a breath, sighed it out, stared directly at the camera.

"I need help with this," I said, softly. "I need someone to tell me what to do. I'm... lost."

The scrolling comments in my channel ceased, bar one strange person who kept spamming "Boobies when".

I felt a momentary panic that I'd shattered the wall, and that I was about to see an exodus...

Then the first message came in.

Moxie> is this hypothetical person hot?

"Hypothetically - very," I managed, as the blush crawled up over my cheeks. "Way out of my league - hypothetically."

mbak318> that's crap. you're a babe, Ellie.

QueerBeer> I'm as gay as a million rainbows but I concur with 318 - you're a babe, Ellie.

Moxie> you're a total babe, babe

"Oh you guys. I'm not. I'm just a scrawny mid-twenties girl who can draw a bit..."

Moxie> saying you're not a babe doesn't make you magically not totally a babe, babe.

QuakerGoats> Jury is unanimous: babe it is. So - this hypothetical person... do they like you? Hypothetically?

"How am I supposed to know?" I stammered, flushed and humbled by the unexpected praise. I freed the image of the girl in chains and tacked a fresh square of card to my easel. "It's not something I'm good at... working out. I've been hurt before. Badly. Often."

Moxie> Do they watch you when you talk, or move?

"A bit. But I've only just met them. Er... totally hypothetically."

Moxie> how do you feel when you think of them? Hypothetically?

"Breathless," I said, without thinking.

Moxie>... oh god girl you've got it bad

QueerBeer> Do you want to see them again?

CrystalMaze> that blush says she does

Moxie> did they say they want to? And have they texted you since?

"Yes I want to see them again. Desperately. And yes, they've texted me. But the texts... they feel, I don't know, policed or something. Like she's holding back..."

Moxie> wait, she?

Moxie> SHE?!?

QueerBeer> sorry can't hear you too busy squealing

"Fuck," I whispered, as I realised I'd just outed myself in front of nearly six hundred strangers.

Moxie> omg girl you are so lucky I live in Brooklyn or I'd hunt your ass down myself! :3 you go girl :rainbow:

mbak318> XD XD omg Ellie you blush so red

ElliotP> damn. This "hypothetical" girl is a lucky girl!

I took a breath, then began to laugh as people began to spam rainbows and hearts in chat. I saw a couple of leavers, but the vast majority of those online seemed unperturbed by the reveal.

"So yeah. Good going me. So now you all know that I like girls. God, I'm an idiot. I... I hope none of you find that hard to swallow..."

QuakerGoats> omg hahaha poor choice of words there

Moxie> I'm literally crying rn Ellie!

mbak318> lol

Reverie> Ellie, you should tell her how you feel

QuakerGoats> yeah totally Ellie. You should tell her you like her.

SolarBadger> maybe she's also scared, Ellie. Maybe she's also sitting there, staring at her phone and agonizing

"There's just no way. She's way too calm and collected..."

SolarBadger> so are swans, but beneath the water those legs are going wild.

Moxie> you miss every chance you don't take, babes

ElliotP> Ellie worst she'll say is no and then you'll know for sure, right?

ElliotP> I'd love it if some girl told me she liked me

Moxie> I like you Elliot <3

ElliotP> uh... thanks, Moxie, but if what I saw above is correct that's like having another gay sister - just from another mister!

Moxie> hahaha XD

I stared down at my phone, wondering if I was brave enough.

And then, just as I reached out towards it, it pinged.

Moxie> omg did that just happen

ElliotP> wow

Anonymouse> woo :spooky:

"Shit, it's her," I said. "She just texted me."

Moxie>!!!!!

mbak318> So read it, you big doofus.

I picked up my phone, and took a breath, and glanced down.

Kirsty: I do like you, you know. I thought I made that pretty obvious

I leaned slowly back against my chair's backrest and stared down at my handset, then frantically stabbed at the keypad.

me: omg are you on my stream?

Kirsty: of course - got to get my fix somehow. You're... impossibly sweet. I'm blushing, btw.

me: oh my good god you could have warned me before I went and put all that embarrassing stuff out there

Kirsty: it's not embarrassing. It's heartfelt.

"Sorry, sorry," I said, suddenly remembering my stream. "It's... from her..."

Reverie> your face tells a picture Ellie

Moxie> omg does it only, I wish I had a girl who'd make me smile like that... and blush like that!

ElliotP> my sister's in queens, Moxie, and single

Moxie> does she put out on first dates?

ElliotP> let me just ask...

ElliotP> she says "If she's good at oral" >_< Things I do not need to know....