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In the mirror, everything looks just like a dream.
Under the dim candlelight Navia's hair glows golden even brighter than the blue jewels of her necklace that compliment her eyes. The warmth of the flame reaches her cheeks, tinting them with the softest shade of pink. With the glint of desire in her eyes and flushed face, she looks both cute and hot.
Her outfit for tonight is perfect, too, of course.
White lace along with black silk slides along her curves, fitting her body in all the right places. Some pretty ribbons attached to her dress balance out the whole look.
Somehow, while looking at her reflection in the mirror, Navia can't help but think that things couldn't be more beautiful. Maybe she really lives up to all of the titles that people give her and deserves their attention.
Navia smiles to herself as she applies her lipstick, eyes gleaming in excitement.
Everything's perfect. Just like she wanted, like she dreamed. A perfect kaleidoscope of the shades of soft baby blue and warm golden that remind her of melting honey, and soft pink blush–
And then, she sees her.
Clorinde's eyes look the way they always do, so much different from Navia's. She sees her gaze sharpen with an intensity and yearning she can't quite understand nor identify.
The time passes by but Clorinde doesn't speak, just stares back at her through the mirror in silent contemplation. Although it is exactly what Navia should have expected, she catches herself wondering what she's thinking about, nonetheless, only to find herself getting lost in the dark violet.
"Um. What are you doing here, Clorinde?" Navia asks suddenly, doing her best to sound as indifferent as possible. Knowing Clorinde, though, she can already see right through her.
It has been like that forever.
When Navia recalls some of her childhood memories, Clorinde is always here, right by her side. The stories of the two of them together remain etched into a part of her hidden so deeply that she can't scratch and erase it, no matter how hard she tries.
Many years have slipped away into a moment in time yet Navia remembers it all; like the back of her hand.
Her quiet hums and longing glances. Clorinde's never-ending determination and the mindset about always following the rules that used to drive Navia crazy. The way she used to sneak into her room for the sleepover, explaining her reasons to stay with that pout on her face and a certain stoic look in her eyes that now looks... more nostalgic, somehow.
It may be just a trick of the light. It's dark and the light of the candle isn't much. Still, something within Navia's chest aches.
Clorinde - as she should have expected, perhaps - looks away as soon as she notices her staring too long to her liking.
Even when Navia's gaze drops down into her hands, she can hear it. How Clorinde takes in a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds and then, clears her throat before taking a small step towards her.
"What are you doing?"
"Well, as you can see, I am getting ready since I'm going out tonight." Navia slowly stands up, leaning in a bit towards the mirror.
Clorinde doesn't answer, only takes her time to look at every aspect of the girl's outfit, running her fingertips mindlessly over her lower lip. Navia slowly turns around to face her, hips resting against the counter.
"And before you ask - no, I don't need a bodyguard."
The idea of sneaking out from her house into the town in the dead of the night has been stuck in her head for quite a long time now. Although it seemed unreachable, Navia couldn't find any strength within herself that would allow her to push it away. Hope can bring disappointment but it can make dreams come true, too.
Ruining her plans after she's put her blood sweat and tears into achieving them would be god-awful.
Okay, maybe it wouldn't be god-awful; but still, it's not something Navia wants.
When she closes her eyes, the images are so vivid that she can almost feel the cold night breeze on her skin as she slips away from the room into the velvet darkness, illuminated solely by distant city lights and neon signs that lure people deeper into the unknown. It's almost as if she's able to soar through the skies, touch the glittering stars and watch as the cold distant moonlight would turn the sea into liquid silver.
Even just walking around the city would be nice. Navia could laugh under the street lamps and watch people melt into each other under the influence of cheap alcohol.
Anything could work, really.
As long as she's dressed up and there's wine running wild in her system. As long as it makes her feel more free and helps her forget, even for a few hours.
"You don't have to protect me and stalk me, you know that?" Navia speaks up again and glances briefly at Clorinde who frowns, unrelenting with her burning gaze.
She should have expected that even the most cold tone of her voice wouldn't scare her away. Clorinde is unyielding and when it comes to their relationship, her determination remains even more unwavering.
It's unnerving, really. Once the closure turned into a bittersweet memory, and melancholy grew into resentment, there's no point in lingering.
So why? Why is Clorinde still there, pretending as if they've never stopped being friends - or even worse, tries to turn back time and make things between them good again?
"I'm not stalking you, Navia."
"Well... But you are following me, aren't you?" Navia scoffs again, leaning further against the counter behind her with a soft smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
The silence that falls between them isn't comfortable. Quite the opposite; it hangs between them like a curse, weighing down on their shoulders and hearts - as if the relationship between them wasn't heavy enough. As if their past wasn't enough of a burden.
The topic - just a mere thought of it - awakes some strange emotions within her, the same ones she's been trying to ignore and forget about for so long. So Navia tries to focus on anything else again.
It's just... nothing's working and everything's so goddamn frustrating.
"I don't need help, by the way." Navia blurts out suddenly in a weak attempt to stop thinking.
In the back of her head, a faint voice of rationality tells her that it's not the right thing to do. Words influenced by emotions don't cause anything good most of the time. But feeling too much has never been a good option, either.
Navia would do anything to just make it stop, even if it's just for a mere minute.
"You don't have to try and... do the things you always do, Clorinde. Like, you know, want to help me out with doing my makeup and talk to me about some news you've heard that might interest me or escort me to my shows every goddamn night. Or anything, really." she huffs, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I guess I should say I appreciate it. But you don't have to do anything for me; because I don't need it."
There it is again. That indescribable nostalgia in Clorinde's eyes.
Almost right away, Navia regrets looking up at her. it messes with her mind a little; how beautiful yet unreachable she is. A shiver runs down her spine as her gaze trails down to Clorinde's plump lips. And then, even lower until - following the trail of buttons - she watches how her chest slowly rises and falls with every breath she takes.
As her eyes linger there, stare burning its way through the layers of suddenly way too unnecessary clothes, Navia wishes she could just take them off. It's an instinct. She's sure it's not a rational thought - it can't be. But she can't stop thinking about it, and almost picturing herself leaving soft open-mouthed kisses on every inch of Clorinde's soft skin and leaving lipstick stains all over the swell of her breasts–
Now that Navia feels all of the intense emotions swaying through her body, she doesn't dwell on it. Her mind is in a haze, vision blurred around the edges.
Mindlessly, she toys with her make-up brush almost as if she thinks - hopes - it will help her calm a little bit.
"Just… Just forget whatever my father has told you, okay? Act like you're doing your best job in front of him if you wish but don't," she pauses, taking in a deep breath as if to calm herself a bit; "Don't do that in front of me. Don't act like you want me to be my friend."
"I don't want to be your friend, Navia." Clorinde answers easily, her voice laced with an emotion Navia doesn't recognize.
Then it goes awfully quiet.
Seconds slip between their fingers, turning into a moment in time yet none of them says a word. Navia thinks she's slightly grateful for this - well, as she should be. She doesn't know what she would do if Clorinde added something more.
Actually, Navia isn't sure what she's thinking about what she's already said - if she doesn't want to be her friend, why is she here in the first place? Why is she always following her around? Why does she act like she still cares? - because her mind has turned blank at the very first moment she's noticed the girl in her room.
Even in the silence falling stretching between them, something about Clorinde makes her nervous.
The thing is, Navia doesn't really know what exactly it is.
She can feel it, still. Some strange emotions creeping out on her back as if they're trying to claw their way out of her. The more they make her skin prickle, the more she thinks they sink deeper into her; and it's making her lose her mind a bit.
No matter how much Navia tries to force herself to think about it, she can't find any logical reason behind her odd feelings. The only thing she knows is that it's all because of Clorinde.
It could be because of her eyes, the way they seem ever so uninterested and yet, capture every single detail. Maybe, it's the way she speaks, the tone of her voice low and aloof even when she talks about something that's far from being not important. It's always frustrated Navia; how easy it is for Clorinde to act so nonchalantly on almost every occasion.
But maybe, just maybe, this annoyance she experiences is fueled by something more. Like, for example, the way Clorinde leans in towards her now.
Navia swallows, trying her best to focus on her thoughts properly and not on how achingly close to her Clorinde is; so close that she can smell the faint scent of her perfume in the air - more musky than her own, sweet and floral. This scent is alluring, leading her mind to places she's never been before.
She should stop. She should take a step back and never go back to this conversation, avoid Clorinde at all cost and pretend none of those emotions within her exist.
Yet Navia can't find it in herself to do it.
"What do you want, then?" she hears her own voice between the rush of the blood in her ears.
As a shiver runs down her spine, Navia can't help but think it has always been there. That soundless whisper of her desire.
Sometimes, when in deep slumber, she could see Clorinde. Feel her touch on her skin, hot and molten, spreading through her body like the sweetest kind of venom.
It's all the same when she wakes up. Her body remains trembling and searching for the tiniest bits of friction that could quell her build up frustration. Her eyes are closed then, mind still in haze and all she can think about was the numb ache between her thighs.
But oh, how badly she yearns for someone to help her out. Latch their lips onto her neck and touch her like deserves it; like she wants it.
Her hand is not enough, far too small to satisfy her. She needs someone to replace her fingers with their own bigger ones and touch her. Slowly but gently... passionately yet leaving her wanting more...
She needs fingers inside to be pushed even deeper, until she'd have to be kissed to muffle her sobs and moans.
Navia isn't quite sure when exactly the thoughts full of yearning started to sound so much like Clorinde's name. Neither does she know when exactly she caught herself giving too much meaning into the way her violet eyes meet hers every day from across the hall, shimmering with something. Or how she thinks it's fondness.
Now, too, all the thoughts Navia has tried to bury deep appear in front of her like a ghost of her - their - past. Or the soft quiet moments, full of sweet laughter and meaningless brushes of fingers.
The proximity between them feels nothing like this.
It's odder, more destructive. Ignoring it seems almost impossible when it's cutting right through the air like a double-edged sword, making Navia choke on her words.
Clorinde must feel it, too; she thinks.
Yet she doesn't move away. She doesn't even flinch, just inches a bit closer until Navia feels the warmth radiating off her body.
She's so close. So, so achingly close.
But... if only Clorinde leaned in a bit closer - just a little bit - her lips would be almost on hers...
Navia almost gives in and closes the distance.
But she can't do it. They can't do it. It's just an impulse, anyway - she's tired and her mind is playing a trick on her. The candlelight does that as well, showing her that Clorinde's eyes are glazed with some kind of affection and she just wants her to–
"You're shivering." Clorinde whispers and pauses for a second before speaking again. "Are you scared?"
Navia should laugh at her assumption, and point out how wrong she is. But all the words die on the tip of her tongue when Clorinde tilts her head towards hers. She sees her eyes on her lips - she can feel her gaze burning her skin - and it freezes her in her stance.
Navia gulps, overwhelmed. "...No."
Clorinde lets out a quiet hum, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Good."
A heartbeat after, her lips are on Navia's.
Clorinde's mouth feels soft initially, smooth and plumper than she'd expect from looking at them. The kiss feels different from what she imagined, too.
Instantly, hunger replaces gentleness, taking her breath away from the very beginning. It's more messy and desperate than how she's thought, all lust and filth fuelled by frustration that lasted way too long.
Navia's hands are up in Clorinde's hair, tugging at the strands as if she doesn't want to be separated from her; not even for a second to take a breath they need so badly.
In the heat of the moment - in the fervour of relentless kisses that don't seem to have an end - she almost doesn't feel the brush slipping away from her grasp, doesn't even hear the thud when it hits the ground.
All she can focus on now is how hot Clorinde's body feels when it's pressed against hers when she pushes her further against the desk. How unrelenting her mouth is, claiming Navia's with so much fervour that she starts to think it might be the death of her.
But then - right when she assumes nothing can startle her anymore - Clorinde's hand suddenly slides under her dress, cold fingers mindlessly wandering against the bare skin.
It burns everywhere she touches. Her mind goes blank; and just like that, all that remains is simmering want.
Swallowed by all the novel sensations and her own emotions, Navia can't think about how much of a mess she is now and how devastated she must look. She doesn't care; not even when she feels the sudden movement of Clorinde's hands over her thighs when she lifts up her skirt completely, exposing her underwear.
The cold wind glides over the damp material, making her shiver in Clorinde's arms. The contrast between the warmth radiating off the body on top of Navia's and the air that now hits her skin through the useless layers of clothing only leaves her yearning for more.
Weakly, she writhes underneath Clorinde, searching for some friction. She just needs to feel anything between her thighs; her knee, her hand, her mouth and tongue–
Navia gasps into Clorinde at the thought, hands clutching on her shirt - almost as if she wants to rip it apart because the clothes are only getting in the way between them away from each other. The kiss grows hungrier, more intense and suffocating.
And then, it fades into nothing.
Clorinde's lips leave Navia's all too suddenly and too fast to her liking. The warmth remains, rushing through her veins, though; and so does the girl on top of her. She's panting heavily, hot breaths fanning over Navia's swollen mouth.
"Your lipstick is smudged now." Clorinde's voice is barely a whisper.
This thing between them - tension, Navia thinks faintly - feels almost unbearable. Only now she allows herself to truly experience it without any restraints.
Almost right away, she feels swallowed by the overwhelming sensations.
The racing heartbeat. Shivers running down her spine. Quickened breaths. Itching fingertips. What-if's that haunt her...
...And the even stronger urge that follows it. To go even further, cross the lines that the society forced upon good girls like them and break the rules that she should never think about breaking. To pull Clorinde into another kiss and change everything between them.
One kiss can be a mistake, surely.
But two?
Navia is more than certain that would change everything between Clorinde and her. And why isn't she scared? Why isn't she taking a step back and explaining that it's bad? Why doesn't she tell her they need to stop?
It's not like Navia can do anything about it, either. Her position leaves her vulnerable at Clorinde's will, mouth dropped open gazing up at her with glossy eyes. It must look almost as if she's begging - for what exactly, Navia herself isn't sure.
"O-oh, well, that's–"
"Shhh. It's fine." Clorinde whispers, a raspy breathy voice cooing against her ear to hush.
Her thumb slowly brushes over Navia's lower lip. It messes with her mind a bit how tempting is Clorinde. How tempting it is to lean in for another kiss, to steal it without care about anything - as if the world's about to end tonight.
"Let me fix that for you, Navia."