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Bérénice is screwed. It’s what she keeps telling herself as Carla pulls her by the hand in her room while she wears this warm smile that makes her weak to her knees. It echoes in her head when she sits on her best friend’s bed and watches her ruffle in her closet for the outfit that apparently will turn her into a 'goddess' overnight.
She’s screwed. Bérénice knows it when she can’t help the foolish grin that stretches her face when Carla shows her dress to her like it’s the seventh wonder.
No doubts are left when their hands brush for the slightest second and it gets her to wonder what it would be like to trace every inch of Carla’s skin with her fingertips.
Gosh.
She facepalms as if the gesture could remove the lingering image in her mind.
“Hey,” Carla nudges her shoulder, not quite helping her struggle. “You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Bérénice smiles or forces herself to. “I’m just tired.”
Carla sighs, sitting beside her. “With the masterpiece you’ve just created I’d hoped so.”
Bérénice huffs at the reference to her revisit of the Saint Honoré earlier this afternoon.
“No, but seriously Bérénice, you do realize how incredible that was right?”
Bérénice tilts her head, frowning. “Is the relooking you promised really that big of a deal for you to flatter me like that?”
Carla pretends to think for a second, then smiles. “Nah, it’s just the truth. Plus I won’t have to do much work since you’re already gorgeous.” Her best friend flashes her a wink as she gets up and Bérénice wishes she could say her heart didn’t miss a beat for such a stupid thing.
Next moment they’re fitting together in Carla’s tiny bathroom which is definitely not made for two, causing Bérénice to second-guess every bit of closeness they share. Arms brushing, the touch of Carla’s hand on her shoulder, arm, and cheek as she does her makeup. Bérénice leans into every of her touch almost without thinking, with such ease that it should scare her but the truth is falling for Carla has never once frightened her.
Thin lines blurred and Bérénice had melted into the change without even realizing it. She would get a bit too lost in her best friend’s eyes and in her late-night made-up scenarios, replaying each laugh, smile, and touch Carla had ever graced her an unhealthy amount of times before the sentence dawned upon her.
Loving Carla has always felt like breathing, she should have known her heart could only grow more involved over time.
"Your mind seems a thousand miles away," Carla whispers, so close to her face that Bérénice feels the ghost of her breath on her lips and momentarily forgets how to speak.
She watches as her best friend ruffles in her drawer full of all kinds of cosmetic products. "I was just thinking."
"Could tell," Carla hums, squinting as she applies her so-called 'ravishing lipgloss' to Bérénice's lips. "What's going on in this tiny head of yours?"
Bérénice swallows, her eyes helplessly roaming all over her best friend's face as she waits for her to be done. This close, she can pinpoint each detail, each imperfection that stole her heart: the length of her eyelashes, these glimpses of shades of green in her eyes, and that cute little crease that forms as she frowns and concentrates.
For now, only hers to admire.
"Why do you do all these things for me?" Bérénice asks when Carla finally puts her lip gloss aside. "Help me with Cardone, the dessert, and now this."
This isn't exactly what she was thinking about, but it went around in her head enough times to be addressed. Carla has always been sweet on her, more than to anyone else but lately, Bérénice can't help but think there's a deeper and darker reason behind her actions.
Carla's lips stretch into a knowing smirk. "Thinking about me then huh?"
"Carla..." Bérénice presses gently, her voice softening. "Please."
Carla gulps, avoiding her gaze. "Let's say, I didn't forget what you did for me last December, and ever since." Her voice lowers barely above a whisper, as if referencing that part of her life physically costs her.
"You don't owe me anything."
Their eyes meet, and a familiar cloud of sadness invades Carla's—one that Bérénice recognizes easily, as it often appears when the brunette stops hiding behind her walls. "Yes, I do."
"No,” She reaches out, her hand brushing against Carla’s. “Not in a heartbeat, not ever."
Carla raises her eyebrows at the touch, her breath hitching, but doesn’t pull away.
"It's normal to be here for each other, it was never a waste of time or an effort for me to care about you, and it won't ever be." Berenice feels her cheeks burn at the admission but pushes through the sensation, knowing how important this is. "You don't need to repay me."
Carla inhales nodding, and reaches out, her pinkie curling around Bérénice's hand, the gesture tentative, almost shy. "Okay." She whispers at last, and the unguarded warmth in her eyes leaves Bérénice speechless.
For a second, it's silent between them, but neither of them moves. Carla's gaze drifts to her lips, and suddenly, Bérénice is unsure whether it's to contemplate her work or for wholly different reasons.
Her breath catches, and she is seconds away from leaning in when Carla abruptly pulls her hand back and clears her throat.
"Anyway, here's the final look! Satisfied?" She spins her around slowly in front of the bathroom's mirror, but Bérénice whose mind still reels from what has almost happened barely pays any attention to her reflection.
"It's great." She mumbles after a beat, hating how strangled her answer sounds to her own ears.
"Careful, I might think you hate it with that enthusiasm." Carla teases, but traces of vulnerability remain in her voice and Bérénice instantly feels awful for her lack of gratitude.
"No, I love it." She turns around but is fast to regret when she realizes how small the space left between them is, how simple it would be to surge forward and let Carla ruin her lipstick. "It's perfect, thank you." Her voice falters unbeknownst to her, but she thanks the heavens that the brunette doesn't seem to notice.
Carla stays silent, smiling, and for the umpteenth time today, Bérénice knows she's screwed. Her gaze lands on her best friend's lips a second too long, and as she glances up she could swear that Carla's eyes have darkened. She feels her pulse quicken, fingers twitching on her sides from an irrepressible urge to pull Carla's lips down to meet hers.
"I'll let you get changed." Bérénice blurts out then, feeling herself tipping on the edge of something that could make her lose it all.
"Oh, okay." Something unreadable crosses Carla's face as she steps to the side to let her leave, but Bérénice is out before she can overthink it.
She shuts the door and slides behind it, sighing. She has come close to kissing Carla twice in a couple of minutes. If she doesn't start to be more careful she might ruin their friendship just because of her delusions.
But this look Carla had laid upon her... just the thought of it makes her shiver and she mentally curses her best friend for messing with her heart and giving her hope.
She stands up and checks out her reflection, taking her time to truly admire Carla's work this time, and for a moment, she almost feels like a little girl again, spinning in a brand-new dress.
It's been a while since she has felt this confident, and it's all thanks to Carla who pushed her enough to convince her to dress up a little. Under normal circumstances, she would have put on a comfortable outfit and stayed hidden. It's always been what she does best, but Carla makes her want to do crazy things and these types of parties might be her chance to get her best friend to look at her differently.
Berenice can't help it, she wants Carla and with what happened a few minutes ago, maybe tonight is the best occasion to test the waters.
She is startled by Carla's voice coming out of the bathroom.
“Can you tie my top?”
“What?” she asks, despite having heard right the first time.
Her throat goes dry when Carla walks out in the outfit she has chosen for the party, makeup done and polished, and stands in front of her and the mirror expectantly.
Carla half-turns, showing off her naked back and the two hems that tie her top altogether. “My top, can you tie it?” She takes a glance at her attempt to lace it and winces. “The knot I’ve done won't last I fear.”
Bérénice swallows hard, nodding. “Yeah, I’ll-” She clears her throat to get rid of its sudden hoarseness, inching closer. “I’ll do it.”
Carla smiles at her in gratitude, while Bérénice takes hold of the two thin hems of clothing with shaky hands.
Come on, don't be weird.
She closes her eyes and inhales, hoping for the visions to free her mind.
Bérénice laces the two hems together in the simplest knot she can come up with, trying her best not to pay attention to Carla's bare skin and her slender shoulder blades. One of her fingers grazes the curve of her neck in her attempt, and for a second Bérénice wonders if she has imagined Carla's slight intake of breath at the touch.
Once satisfied, she releases the two hems along with the breath she was holding and smiles. "Here."
“You’re beautiful.”
Carla’s gaze catches hers in the mirror, and things are written in her eyes, things Bérénice’d never get enough time to read into, but which steal her breath and ability to hold a thought altogether.
“Thank you,” Bérénice whispers, holding onto her best friend’s eyes until her cheeks feel way too warm and that she has to look away.
“Is Miss blushing?” Bérénice huffs out a laugh, convinced that she now must be as red as Carla’s scarlet lipstick. “See? This is going to change tonight.”
Bérénice tilts her head, raising her eyebrows. “How so?”
Carla turns around and takes both of her hands in hers, soon trapping Bérénice in an endless sea of blue that turns her heart into a stammering mess. “This time, you’ll get everyone blushing.”
Bérénice chuckles nervously but finds herself incapable of looking away from this strange glint in Carla’s eyes, the sight almost giving her wings to fly. “Including you?”
Carla smirks, tugging at their joined hands to bring her face closer to Bérénice’s. “Oh, I certainly hope that my work won’t leave me indifferent.”
“I’ll make sure of that.” Bérénice winks, unsure of which demon possessed her in over a few minutes but feeling incredibly grateful as she could swear that Carla’s cheeks have turned a darker shade.
Carla opens her mouth to respond but for a second no words come out and Bérénice’s smile widens. “Well… that’s the spirit.”
Bérénice laughs, feeling another burst of confidence swirling inside her.
Carla laughs with her, her eyes shining, and well, if things go on to be this great, Bérénice might come out more often.
"Give me two minutes," Carla gives a dramatic flip of her hair. "And then we're out to save this party."
"Okay!"
Bérénice smiles, watching as Carla retreats into her bathroom, and failing to resist the waves of overconsuming fondness for her best friend that invade her, for the first time feeling as though she might not have to keep them to herself forever.
Ah, Carla Furiani will be the death of her.
(And Bérénice wouldn't have it any other way.)