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Beatrice stretches her arms out towards the sky, reaching and groaning as she stands to stretch and survey some of the other sellers at market today. Mostly more of the same, baked goods, art, jewelry, but the one tent she’s really trying to catch a glimpse at is the Superion Vineyards booth. Beatrice presses her hands into her back, stretching out and wandering a few feet from her booth, trying desperately to be casual. She glances down at her outfit today, it’s a fairly warm day so she had opted for her soft denim shorts and a button down. She smoothes the fabric down with her hands, calm, cool and collected.
“You staring at her again?” JC says, inches from her ear.
“JC! Dude!” She swats at his arm as she turns. “No! Of course not.”
He grins, extending out a chocolate croissant, “You lying?”
Beatrice takes it begrudgingly, “Don’t you have better things to do?”
“Then to bother you? Never. Want some help?”
“Not from you.”
He laughs, like a kid, just so damn delighted with himself and starts helping her set up some of the photos she was selling today.
They are on a slope. This is something Beatrice takes note of every time she sets up and it never ceases to bother her. It's not big, not to an extent where anything would decide to haphazardly careen down the table, especially not with the beige cloth she puts down. But it's enough for her to be conscious of how all her standing photos tilt slightly to the left. She's opted to set up more on the side table due to that.
"Magda says it's going to rain today."
Beatrice moves around the table to adjust a print hanging on the trellis. "She always believes it will rain… and she's right sometimes.”
“As is a broken clock twice a day. The sun’s out and the clouds are stuck on the mountains, we’ll be fine.” She forgot her tarp this morning so Magda better be wrong.
JC touches one of the other prints on the trellis. He tilts it to match the ones on the table, “If it’s all on that slope then it all looks straight relatively.”
Beatrice hums. "I'm not so sure the customers will agree with that message..."
They are done an hour before people start to arrive. It's a routine, one Beatrice is set on keeping no matter how ridiculous JC insists on it being. Besides, it leaves time in between for her to settle down properly with her coffee (always lukewarm. Twenty minutes from your home and two hours of setting up—this including the chatting everyone insists on doing early in the morning which Beatrice has never understood—will do that). She opens her book right as a bell clings by her feet.
"Oh hey, Pinecone. You're out here early." She bends down to scratch the brown cat behind the ear, watching the tail swish back and forth. As far as Beatrice knows, he's been here longer than her and belongs to the owner of the vineyard but had a strange attachment to—
"Pinecone! I swear I'm not trying to poison you, it just smells weird."
Beatrice snaps up at the voice, knocking her knee against the side of the table and cringing hard. Pinecone jumps away, deciding to instead settle himself on the table, scarily close to the stack of prints she had just set up. He doesn't care. Beatrice tries to school the alarm on her face and Ava in front of her, as usual, looks amazing.
Her hair is flowing down her shoulders, messy and sun bleached. She's wearing a yellow tanktop today, with a sun in the middle that's smoking a cigar and looks far too content and it is... Very tight around the waist.
Beatrice clears her throat. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"Oh, Beatrice! You're here. I mean, of course you are, you work here and you always set up at the same place but I mean..." She trails off, following Beatrice's eyes to the cup in her hand. "Boss has given me the task to give Pinecone his medicine since he supposedly—" She gives a pointed look at the cat who is currently licking his paw and only gets an ear flick in response. "—he likes me. But I'm not so sure how true that is anymore.”
Beatrice’s words get trapped on her tongue for a moment, tripping over themselves trying to get out, “What happened?” It’s all she trusts herself to say at the moment.
Ava groans, “He must have eaten something he shouldn’t have because he went from eating a lot to eating nothing. So, I got him some special food and mixed some medicine in but I think he knows because he ran when I set it down and he must like you more than me right now so now we’re all here.” Ava smiles at her, “So,” she wiggles her shoulders a little. “He likes you, want to help me?”
Beatrice looks over at Pinecone, who is still licking at his paw and he glances up at her. “I can try, I suppose, I might have something that can help.”
Ava practically squeals, “You’re a lifesaver, Bea! See Pinecone? Bea has my back.” She sticks her tongue out at the cat as he continues to ignore Ava. Which frankly, Beatrice has no idea how he can manage to stay out of the pull.
Beatrice pulls her bag from behind the table, and gets out a bag of freeze-dried chicken treats that she may have bought when he had first begun to come around her booth. Pinecone trills at the sound of the plastic bag and hops down from the table to circle her legs. “Yes, yes, I know.” She says quietly to him.
“Oh you’ve been bribing him! No wonder he came straight here!” Ava laughs.
Beatrice can feel her face heat up at the harmonious sound of her laugh. As gracefully as she can, she sinks to the ground crossing her legs as Pinecone climbs straight into her lap. His purr is loud, almost motor-like as he settles in, rubbing his head against the treat bag every so often between pets. A very subtle reminder on his part.
“Oh my god. He really does love you!” Ava plops down across from her, so close their knees are nearly touching. “Honestly, I had a feeling he’d be a little difficult so I brought more.” She pulls a small bottle and mouth syringe out of her pocket.
“Are you ready?”
“Whenever you are, Bea.”
“I’m going to get a treat out, you can push the medicine in his mouth and then I’ll give him the treat immediately, okay?”
“Ooooh, bossy, I like it. Sir, yes sir.” Ava wiggles a little in place.
Beatrice knows her cheeks heat up, but she pushes it down to focus on Pinecone and helping Ava out. She opens the treat bag and Pinecone eagerly sits up. Ava bends around and presses the syringe into his open mouth and he extends his claws into Beatrice’s leg as he swallows the medicine. She accidentally tosses the treat to the side as he uses his claws to launch off her legs into the direction of the treat.
"Ow,” she rubs at her leg. “Doesn't seem too grumpy anymore."
Ava chuckles. "Well it's hard to imagine someone getting grumpy with you."
Beatrice turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow.
Ava shuts her mouth, much like she hadn't meant for that to slip out at all. Then she gestures, well- at all of her. "I mean look at you. You're so put together and perfect."
Her lip pulls to the side as her eyes cast down. "I don't know about that."
"She's being modest."
Beatrice turns to find JC standing with his mouth hidden behind a cup of coffee. His smile is sly and if Ava wasn't here right now she would rub that expression off his face. Instead she adjusts her posture and looks forward to the far more appealing thing which is the sun hitting Ava's eyes and lining her cheek.
She's shifting her weight back and forth, tilting her head to the side in that way that always makes Beatrice want to reach out and touch it. "At the very least I always get happy when I see you around, that's gotta stand for something right?"
Beatrice bites back an involuntary smile, reminding herself that this is not what she's supposed to do. Ava is not what she's here for and it will never happen. "You should probably go back to your booth before Linn yells at you."
Ava's expression crumples a bit before she straightens up. "You're probably right. But you know where to find me, yes?"
She's already leaving before Beatrice has time to answer and she rubs her face before mumbling. "Disastrously so…”
When Beatrice turns back to the booth JC has a Cheshire-like smile on his face. “So…” he prods.
“Pinecone needed some medicine and I was helping.”
“Right, right. Of course.” He extends a cup out to her, “and the fact that you were sitting that close together wasn’t even a thought then?”
Beatrice gulps, and a customer walks into the tent so she greets them and shoots daggers in JC’s direction. The rest of the day kind of drags with a lot of the same. A customer here or there and her mind straying and reaching out towards the booth where Ava is in between.
Magda was right by the way. She ends up packing the rest of her things via tossing them into the back of her car so they don’t get wet, and she doesn’t even get a chance to wave to Ava. But the way the droplets sit on her windshield do make for a pretty good photo.
—
Ava comes skipping up the booth the following weekend, Beatrice and JC are bickering about putting the tarp up because Magda had once again called for rain today.
Ava has her hands clasped behind her back, “Good morning JC!” She grins at him, big and wide. Beatrice immediately feels a sinking feeling in her stomach. But then eyes find hers, “Good morning, Bea,” it’s said softly, almost whispered, like a prayer. And suddenly sinking turns to flipping and god she needs to splash her face with cold water.
“Good morning Ava,” Beatrice and JC annoyingly say in unison. Beatrice shoves at his arm as he dissolves into giggles with Ava.
Ava steps into her space, and Beatrice fights the urge to step back away from her. “I brought you something, I was going to give it to you last weekend but anyways, here.” Ava passes a small hand woven wreath to her, It fits in the palm of her hand. “It’s made of grapevines, I make them when I need to keep my hands busy on breaks and stuff.”
Beatrice turns it over in her hands, its cute it almost looks like a—
“Linn calls them halos, and I wanted to give you one for being an angel last week and helping me with Pinecone.” Ava grins up at her, and Beatrice swears it gets lighter outside.
“Oh thank you. But you don’t have to. Anyone would have helped.”
Ava hums, “Maybe, but you actually stepped up and did it. So you’ve earned it.” Ava presses the halo deeper into Beatrice’s hand. “Anyways, just wanted to give that to you…” she trails off and starts backing away from the booth.
Beatrice is about to say something more when a group of guys walks into the tent, speaking loudly as they jab about what's around. She puts the wreath down under the table and plasters on her best professional smile, keeping a close eye on the black haired boy with suspiciously white teeth and big arms that seemed to have a tendency to touch things he shouldn't.
When they've left – one actually buying a postcard for his girlfriend (she did not mean to listen in but it was hard not to when they stood three feet away) she reaches over to the stand herself and runs her fingers over her favourite. "You think Ava would like one of these?"
JC looks over his shoulder, chewing on a toothpick. "Hm?"
"A postcard. Maybe I could give her one as a thank you for the gift earlier."
He turns fully then, leaning his arms back on the side table. "The question is, are you doing this out of the kindness of your heart or the other thing."
"... Why are you saying it like that? What 'other thing'?"
JC sighs. "I can't believe you're the smartest person I know and you're still this oblivious."
"I'm not oblivious!"
JC sucks on the toothpick for a moment, eyes sweeping over the cards. Then he bends forward and snatches one up. "She'll like that one. Trust me."
Beatrice registers the card with immediate alarm. "Absolutely not."
"You think she doesn't like this?"
"That's not what I–" she cuts herself off, restraining herself from swiping it from him. "I'm sure she would appreciate it... in theory."
"Perfect." With that, JC turns and starts heading towards the Vineyard booth.
“JC!” She yells, but he’s picking up the pace and he throws a peace sign over his shoulder.
She sighs, deeply. Grabbing the same postcard he just ran off with, she runs her fingers over the edges, scrutinizing it.
It is a good photo. She had left her camera continually shooting on the beach while she caught a few waves before most people had even woken up that day. She was sitting with one leg swung off the board, her body facing the camera but her head swiveled so she could watch for waves. She had chosen this one because it showed off her tattoo a little. But also because it had been a year since her and Lucia had broken up and she recalls the peace she had felt waking so she brought her camera along.
She shakes her head at the font she chose for the beach name but she hopes Ava won’t notice how tacky it is. Her mind wanders a little, and she finds herself wondering if Ava has had the chance to go to the beach since she’s been here. Beatrice knew that she had only gotten here a few weeks ago, you know, through the grapevine. Beatrice catches herself off guard at the pun and laughs out loud.
JC returns a moment later, toothpick now resting on the back of his ear, skipping slightly. She will not give in. She will not ask. She busies herself with trying to straighten the things on the table, on this damn slope.
His arms are crossed against his chest, and he’s grinning, “You have to ask.”
“You’re exhausting.”
“So, you’re not going to ask?”
Beatrice glowers at him, “Fine. Fine.”
He tilts his head to the side, waiting.
“What did she say, JC?”
He inches closer to her, always dramatic in his story-telling, “She just stared at it for about ten seconds, and as I watched the drool form and began to descend upon your beautiful gift, well—I, in gentlemen-like fashion said, ‘Right?’ And wiggled my eyebrows, you know like this.” And he mimes his action to her. And she rolls her eyes. “And then Beatrice, you’ll never believe it! Ava was speechless! She just kind of nodded, and then asked if you took this picture and of course as your best friend—” and he lowers his voice, “and self appointed wing man, I told her to come by later if she wanted to see more of your impeccable talent!”
Beatrice gawks at him.
JC pitches his voice up a little, “Wow! Thank you, JC! You’re the best wingman ever!” Then back down, “Beatrice, no problem buddy! It is my pleasure and honor to be best friends with you!”
“You’re an idiot, dude.”
“Admit it! You love me!”
“Ew. No.”
He starts inching closer to her, “Admit it! It’s like 200 feet to water and we both know I can carry you that far.”
“That’s assuming I don’t have you pinned to the ground before you can pick me up.”
“Is that a challenge I hear?” He lifts an eyebrow to the sky.
They burst out laughing. When they’ve caught their breath she looks at him, “Thanks.”
He nods. “You sell yourself short too often, gotta make sure you know people see your talent sometimes.”
It’s two hours, a handful of sales, and one delicious Cuban sandwich later that Ava swings by Beatrice’s booth.
"I see you were popular today."
Beatrice stands up, hurriedly brushing crumbs off her shirt and facing an amused smile. "I did get a lot of sales today, yes. Probably due to the weather."
Ava steps closer, hands behind her back. Her shirt is tied up below her navel, revealing a glimpse of smooth skin that makes Beatrice swallow.
"Or maybe they just liked what they saw." Ava looks her up and down, as if she knows. Shit.
"Uhm–"
"I loved the postcard by the way. And I realised it's very different from the rest of your work. Usually you seem to stick to nature."
Ava's eyes are still on her and she has to mentally go back to register what she just said. "Uh, nature, yes. That's right. This is... A special collection I did in my first year moving here."
"Oh? You have more?"
Of course that question would come. Beatrice bites into her lip, rubbing her thumb into the cloth. "I do..."
"Oh, you don't have to show me if you don't–"
"No, I'd like to." Beatrice reassures, taking a breath before opening the box where she stored her album. "It’s just been a while since I had them available for sale."
She puts it on the table and Ava watches on curiously, seeming to wait for some sort of permission.
"It's easier if you get over to my side."
As if on cue, she smiles. Beatrice loved that damn smile. "Oooh, special privileges during work hours, Bea? I'm a lucky girl."
She hums, stepping to the side to make place for Ava in the small space.
Much, much smaller than Beatrice had even realized as Ava presses into her side to get closer.
The album cover is plain and black, and suddenly she’s nervous to open it at all. Her fingers linger on the seam of it, tracing the ridges across the top over to the side. She risks a glance at Ava, and she’s already staring at her. Beatrice’s eyes betray her brain and glance down at Ava’s lips which break into a grin.
“Do you want me to open it?” Ava whispers.
Beatrice can only nod as Ava’s fingers brush against hers to open to the first page. It’s been a while since she’s looked in this album apparently because front and center is JC.
“This is the day we met.”
“And you managed to get him naked?” Ava howls.
Oh shit she had kind of forgotten about that aspect. This picture is JC laying on a sheet on the beach, she had all of her models laid out so that you can’t see anything but just so that the appreciation for the body was visible, muscle, fat, folds and all. “Oh god, I didn’t even think about it.”
“I’d love to hear about it.” Ava pulls the album closer to her face, studying it. “This is an amazing picture though, JC is one-hundred percent full of himself isn’t he?”
The image of JC in his underwear in a ‘High-five the cook’ apron dancing around their shared apartment kitchen this morning pops into her head. “He can be, but he’s a good guy. He’s my best friend.”
Ava smiles at her, “So, how on earth is this how you met him?”
“This is actually how I made most of the friends I have around here. I had just moved here and was trying to establish myself as a photographer. I put out an ad asking for queer people to come pose for pictures and I was shocked at how many people came. This album is just leftovers, the rest are hanging in my shop.”
“That’s so fucking cool, Bea.” She flips a page, “Holy shit, I need to meet this person yesterday. Who is this?”
A picture of Mary posing on her motorcycle is next. Mary opted to keep her boxers on and she turned so that her arms flex against the back of the seat and every muscle in her back is clear and defined. You can just barely see her eyes over her shoulder from the angle. Beatrice knows for a fact that Shannon has a copy of it hung in their bedroom right now. “Mary. She’s even cooler in real life but you can’t tell her I said that, her ego is big enough. Trust me.”
Ava flips through a few more pages, passing a few people she knows but doesn’t keep as well in touch with. Dora, Zori, Randall. “God Bea, you’ve really captured the bisexual dream in this album.”
Beatrice stills a moment, oh? Oh.
But she doesn’t have time to say something because Ava arrives at the back of the album, so she holds her breath instead.
“Oh, wow,” Ava breathes out. “They’re gorgeous.”
The dimly lit self-portraits she had taken drunk after she had broken up with Lucia. After Mary had finally told her she was worth more than that relationship and convinced her she was allowed to take up space. That she could be the subject and the artist all at once.
Her tattoo is displayed prominently in all of them. A symbol of the new life she had here. A sun on her sternum. These particular photos are close-ups of her chest, stomach and arms and she can feel how aflame her cheeks are knowing that Ava is looking — no, admiring her body right now.
“These are beautiful, Beatrice.”
Beatrice pushes the urge to self-deprecate down, “Thank you.”
“This is the same girl from earlier, right? The postcard? The tattoo is just gorgeous.”
Wait, what?
“Oh—well, yes. Same person but she is—”
JC pops the bubble that had formed around them, “Oh fuck yeah, we looking at the hot and sexy pictures?” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down.
Beatrice tries to kill him with her mind, and fails, but Ava’s laugh erupts from her like she couldn’t have stifled it even if she wanted to. “I was just about to ask if she was accepting models,” Ava knocks her arm into Beatrice’s side.
It does nothing more than make the heat rise further up her neck. God, her face must be burning.
"I believe she would make an exception for you."
JC is so taking down the tarp by himself later.
"You would certainly fit the type." She mumbles absentmindedly, closing the book. Her brain, like the betrayer it is, floods her head with images of Ava as her subject. Covered only in a simple sheet, revealing her figure, the curves of her body especially how it dipped by her shoulders and went down to expose a healthy amount of cleavage—
"You think so?"
Beatrice eyes flick over the area already burnt into her mind before she corrects herself to look at her face. Right. She's standing right in front of her. Now staring with such genuine wonder that Beatrice takes a step back. Then nods, that's all she can do.
Ava is beautiful, there's no mistaking that. Everyone can see it, even JC, who she believes has had an eye on Ava for a while even though he mostly leans towards guys. Of course she would be fantastic as a model.
"Bea?" Ava nudges her hand and she blinks a couple times to realise it's folded into fists. She unravels them.
"I'm sorry."
Ava's brows knit. "What are you apologising for?"
A kid runs across with ice-cream in hand. It's a warm day. Enough for Beatrice to have folded the sleeves of her arm over her elbows. She fiddles with it, adjusting something invisible. "I don't know..."
Lucia would scorn her now for not being able to articulate herself. Always said it was something that made her fall for her but when things got serious or too much—(is this too much?) all that went away. 'like you don't care about our relationship'.
That's not true.
"Hey, Beatrice." A warm hand lands on her shoulder and she bites hard into her bottom lip, fearing to meet the same face she did so many years ago. "I'm sorry if I came on a little strong. These are fantastic pictures."
That's when she finally looks up, the eyes she meets are soft and searching. Oh, okay.
She shakes her head. "You haven't done anything wrong."
"Okay. Good. And you're alright?"
"Yes..." She cares. "Yes."
Ava chews her lip, a learnt repetition. "Then at least I'll hold on to the postcard you've already given me! My room here looks far too bare right now. What's a better way to liven up the place than with pretty ladies."
Beatrice bites back a smile. She still doesn't know.
"Hmm I saw that. I'm counting that smile as a success."
"Sure, do that."
Ava gives her one last look, a tilt of her head that reminds her of a dog. 'we okay?'
Beatrice nods. It's only when Ava turns that she slumps down, leaning her arms against the table.
JC looks over from where he's carrying a box. "Someone's brain melted from gay overdose I see—"
"Don't."
—
Ava isn't there the next weekend. No matter how many times Beatrice looks over at their booth that ceases to be true. JC complains over her grumpiness all day and she messes up the count on two orders.
She's distracted. She knows. Refuses to admit it aloud.
Did she scare her away? Weird her out? Does it matter? Decidedly, it does. Even when she's tried to convince herself it doesn't.
She likes Ava. Has been intrigued by her ever since she saw her at the market the first week of the summer season. Now she wished she'd gone over to explain herself before she left.
"You don't know that she's avoiding you."
"How can you be so sure? She's never missed a weekend before."
JC shrugs. "Maybe she just felt like picking berries."
Beatrice doubts it. If there's one thing she's learnt it's that Ava loves it here. Being able to interact with so many people and experience a culture outside her own.
It's not until a week later that she gets her answer.
She hears her before she sees her. A box dropping to the ground followed by loud swearing in Spanish. She yells over at Linn that she’s got it before slowly bending down, cringing in the process.
Beatrice doesn't think before she's moving. She drops down beside her, picking up the bottles that have luckily not shattered. "That looked rough."
Ava freezes, staring up with wide eyes as if she's spotting her for the first time. "Bea."
Beatrice pauses too, her action catching up to her as the shame colors Ava's face. She looks exhausted, shoulders heavy and hair messily swept back.
"Hello. It's nice to see you again." That's the truth and she is glad to get it out. Does not regret it. Especially not for how Ava's shoulders relax marginally by the statement.
"Yeah? Because I'm sure I look like a mess."
Beatrice huffs. "That's not possible."
That draws a small smile from Ava's lips. Still constrained. They put the bottles back in the box in silence before she replies. "My back is a little fucked up. Likes to play games with me. Last week was apparently showtime, spotlights and everything. Linn found me lying on the ground by the vines and drove me to the hospital. Trust me, I had stains where there shouldn't be strains."
Her voice is light, tilting at the edge and it's like she's swept a blanket over it. Something that keeps the bruise itself hidden away but someone could still so easily press down on.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. Are you feeling better?"
Ava chuckles. "How could you've known? I never really tell anyone about it. I mean, I even lied to get my job and said I could totally work several hours in the blasting sun hunching my back like a whale! And to answer your question, it's manageable. On hella painkillers though."
As Ava puts the last bottle in the box Beatrice takes it, rising up. "So where do you want this?"
Ava looks like she wants to protest before she gives in, pointing at the booth. "Don't you have your own stuff to do?"
"JC can handle it." And I want to be here with you.
She chews at her lip, putting the box down. "Do you think you'll have the energy to do something after this?"
Ava shrugs, smiling. "That's up to the God's and the amount of glass bottles that decide to roll away."
Beatrice picks at her sleeve, dark blue today, and drags her foot over the dirt. "Well... I have been thinking over your question and I would love to take pictures of you. I’d love for you to be a model for me. But, I mean— I’d very much love to take you to dinner first, if you’d like that of course.”
Ava gives her a look. "Bea, are you asking me out on a date?”
So directly said. God. But yes. Yes. This is what she had spent the last week mulling over. Rotating it this way and that, making sure she was right. The looks, and touches and everything. “Yes, I am asking you out on a date. Tonight.” She nods to herself, “well, as long as you’re up for it, of course. If you aren’t feeling well enough tonight we can do it whenever you feel better. But I missed seeing you around last weekend.”
Ava giggles, “Ask me again.”
“Would you like to go on a date with me, Ava?”
“I would love to, Bea.”
Beatrice nods her head a few times, “Cool. That’s really cool.”
Ava bites her lip, suppressing the huge grin, “it is cool, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Make sure you put your tarps up, it’s going to rain this afternoon.” Magda delivers to them in passing.
“Are you sure you don’t need to get back? I could use your help with the tarp…” Ava asks, more shy than before.
And Beatrice is so sure she would do anything Ava asked. “I have time.”
And for the second time in a month, Magda is once again right as they throw their things into their collective vehicles as the rain begins to really come down.
“Can I come pick you up later?”
“You may. Here’s my number.” Ava slides a very colorful post-it into her palm.
Beatrice holds it tightly in her hand and waves as Ava leaves in the van for the vineyard.
A hand lands on her shoulder a second later, “Well look at you, loverboy.”
Beatrice turns and shoves him out from under the tent and into the rain, “I’m giving Hans your number tomorrow when I pick up coffee.”
JC gasps, “You wouldn’t.”
“You’ve been dancing around him for months!”
“It’s called the long game, Beatrice, look it up.”
He extends a hand out to her and she rolls her eyes, before joining him in the rain. “Holy shit, I have a date tonight.”
He lifts her then, over his shoulder and starts bouncing up and down, “You have a date tonight!” Some of the other folks at the market stare at them as they bounce around as the rain soaks them to the bone. But she feels pretty light all things considered.
—
They’re sprawled out on a blanket on the beach in the moonlight. Beatrice has her button-down halfway unbuttoned and shoes kicked off to the side. Ava has taken off everything but a tank-top and her shorts.
They had gone to a decent Italian restaurant right near the ocean. But the saddest part? They were out of tiramisu by the time they went to order dessert which led them here. Two half-eaten slices of chocolate cake and cheesecake between them.
“Dessert to-go was a fantastic idea, Ava. This is so much better than that stuffy restaurant.” She stretches her limbs again, settling into the feeling of Ava’s company.
“This is partially because I wanted to see the beach where the magic happens,” and she pokes at Beatrice’s side as she says it, wiggling in place a little.
“I think I might have trouble capturing you on film.”
Ava tilts her head to the side, “And why is that?”
“You wiggle whenever you’re happy.”
This causes more wiggling, “but you like it.”
“That I cannot deny, I like that you’re so upfront about it all, it’s nice.” Beatrice leans back onto her hands, letting her head tilt towards the sky.
Ava hums, teeth showing through her smile. One like a fox that's just captured a gopher – awaited but frivolous. "I want to feel the ocean."
With that she rises up from the blanket, stretching out her hand towards her. Beatrice looks at her, looks at the cold water crashing into the shore with a familiar rhythm. "Ava, it's almost midnight. It will be freezing."
"Come on! The sky is filled with stars. The moon is full. We have to."
Beatrice gives in—how can she not, taking her hand and letting herself get pulled up, tipping over onto her before correcting herself. They giggle, hands still lingering on arms and Ava glances down before she takes her hand in hers.
There's a brief pause where Beatrice has to remind herself to breathe. Heart beating roughly in her chest that sends waves through her chest.
She squeezes once. Ava squeezes back, then she's pulled towards the ocean.
God. For all she hoped the chaos of the waves would cancel out the chaos of her heart. Instead it intensifies, so much that she barely feels, or at least does not care for the cold water hitting her skin.
"Fuck that's cold!" Ava laughs, loud and clear. As if an extension, as if an inevitable interwoven connection, she laughs too.
She does not linger on the thought of getting home. On how her clothes will inevitably be sandy and drenched with saltwater.
Instead she grips Ava's hand harder. Tells herself it's to keep her safe but knowing it's just an excuse to get her closer.
The water is up over their knees and she trips over a sandbank, gripping harder onto Ava's shirt and burning from the hand snaking around her waist to steady her.
Right now there's only the ocean and them and Ava's breath overtaking it all.
She'll blame it on that latter. On the ocean and the uncomfortable feeling of her shirt clinging to her body that makes her want to pull. "You want to see it?"
"What?"
Beatrice doesn't elaborate, only looks at her, hoping for Ava to take it just as it is.
Ava nods—nods for something she doesn't understand. Nods for trust. "Yes, yes. Okay."
With that Beatrice pulls her shirt over her head, chest heaving on the downfall.
It takes a while for Ava to notice it, eyes running over her bare chest and arms.
"Holy shit." She's eyeing the tattoo on her sternum, the dip of her chest. Then she looks at her. "You were the one in the photos."
Instead of answering Beatrice pulls her in for a kiss, hand behind neck and curling into her hair. Everything folding into goosebumps and hot wetness.
Ava leans in, weight pushing against weight. Body against body. Thumb brushing over her chest right where the sun climbs up her skin.
She shivers once they break apart and Ava mumbles into her mouth. "Holy shit…”
Beatrice takes a second to look at her, eyes blown out and lips parted. She’s beautiful. She leans in again and just as their lips brush Ava launches herself out of the water into her arms, “Something just touched my foot!”
Beatrice laughs and it erupts from her as the waves clash together around them. “I’ve got you!” And she presses Ava tight to her chest as she fights the waves to get back to shore.
They both collapse in a fit of giggles back on the blanket. Clothing sticking to their bodies, salt water and sand mixing but Beatrice can’t seem to care right now.
“My hero! How brave you were fighting that serpent for me!” Ava leans into her chest as she says it, her fingertips running across her arms and chest, lingering a moment.
“You did appoint me as your guardian angel, so of course I have to uphold that. I have to protect my solemn oath to maintain the halo and the person who bestowed it upon me,” Beatrice takes her hand, kissing it gently, “that very much includes sea serpents.”
They stare into each other's eyes, and Beatrice begins to map the slope of her nose and the tilt of her jaw. Why had she ever complained about a slope before when there was so much beauty to be held there?
"So... when were we going to do that shoot? At your place or..." Ava trails off, the question lingering in her eyes.
"I mean whenever and wherever you want works for me. I'll make it work."
Ava pushes herself up on her elbow, mischievous. "Tonight?"
"Tonight works." Beatrice smiles, not hesitating before she answers. "Although I feel like you'd have to get used to my apartment, and the bed..."
"The bed you say?" Ava's smile grows wolfishly big from the blush it brings out.
"I meant—for photos. I'm not sure how you want to do the shoot but I want you to be comfortable—"
"Bed it is then."
Beatrice opens her mouth, closes it again, the burning in her cheeks ever persistent. "Okay. That works."
They stand up, Ava looping an arm around her waist to press her closer. "You're shivering."
She presses back. "Keep me closer then."
The hold tightens, fingers brushing over wet skin. "Always."