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It was just banter between Narcissa and Alice, they were just friends who got along, they were just really close. But do close friends have to be reminded of that? Do friends even consider the possibility of something more? It buzzed around Narcissa's head like a migraine. She liked the way it felt when their shoulders touched or when Alice’s eyes would look her up and down like she was memorizing her. Their feet touching under the table, a shared secret, a promise, forgiveness, something that could be left unsaid. Their language only they spoke was built up over time, how subtle things became more obvious to the two. Their friendship was beautiful, until it wasn’t, until Narcissa slipped up by making it more. Narcissa didn't know when it started between her and Alice, she just knew she was addicted to it like a drug. That lust that followed her came with a longing for more, the part of her heart that didn’t feel whole. Alice was that piece of her, or more took that piece of her heart, cradling it and keeping it safe. Narcissa trusted Alice with her heart and in return Alice trusted Cissa with hers. They both knew that closeness like this wasn’t to be shared, but that was fine because she knew how to keep secrets.
It was a night just for them to share together. When papers became blurry and their bodies too tired to work they lay together wrapped in each other's arms. They laughed and talked and whispered secrets, sharing stories and tales that were never before mentioned. Warmness radiated from Alice in a way Narcissa had never felt from anyone before. Alice’s voice was soft and her strokes delicate against Narcissa’s skin as she poured her heart out in front of Cissa. Alice loved her and this love felt strong, a deep connection both had built. A moment passed where they were both looking at each other, faces only centimeters apart and the foreheads touching gently. Their lips met one another and they fell into a deep kiss. It began awkwardly until they found a rhythm suitable for them, their own unique kiss that started slow and gentle till it became a craving for more. She wanted to feel Alice all over her, she wanted Alice to see her whole in a way no one else had seen her before. She wasn’t embarrassed nor ashamed but felt beautiful under Alice’s gaze. When they pulled apart to catch their breath she took in all of Alice under the soft glow of the moonlight, enough light to see the silhouette before her. Alice had put a spell on her and she was allowing Alice control.
Why is it that beautiful things always pass? To that Walburga had answered “when you pick a rose do you choose the prettiest one?”
Tunnel vision and then something stopped inside her. It happened so naturally, and that was the scariest part. How easily she could slip up and forget. She no longer felt like herself but heard her mothers values, the feeling of cold hard wood on her knees as she confessed her sins, the things her father would say about faggots. These all came at once and her body was nothing more than a vessel for these thoughts to control. She just wasn’t thinking, all of this lust that had devoured her was a torment, God had put her through a trial to test her faith and she failed it miserably. Lust had overcome her, rushed over her body and taken her in its grasp, it was a mortal sin and one she naively let devour her completely, it infiltrated her mind and led her astray from the path of faith she had built over the many years. This was a fatal mistake and one that she could never undo, no matter how much she tried it was now up to God to decide if she could ever redeem herself. Will she ever feel whole again? Is she just a lost soul that could never be found? She’ll die anyway with a permanent mark on her record of faith that couldn't be ignored, it felt too big a thing to cover up, and God is always watching, noticing every detail. It's hard to keep secrets but even harder to hide from God, a powerful being that would never overlook someone's sins. Her path to salvation, that had once been so clear, was now blocked and it was up to her to rebuild it. A path she built with her blood, and she wonders if she missed the path others took that didn’t cost them a sacrifice.
That night she scrubbed at her skin in the seething hot shower. She stayed under there, the comforting burns stinging her back, she let the water run over her body till it was scaly. Her skin scrubbed raw now felt hot and itchy to touch. Her skin didn't feel right, it felt too tight, her ribs too close together they might cave in and shatter, bone puncturing skin and digging into her organs threatening to stop her heart. She had to be clean but she couldn’t clean her soul.
She not only broke Alice’s heart, but her trust too. Alice and Narcissa had been torn apart, a crack had broken and split them up, both flung in opposite directions with no warning. Except that she had been warned, she was warned that this was wrong from the beginning. She’d attended those services that spat on this sinful lust, and warned her of how impurity will look. Whores had been called so many things in that building, in those services, she was a used lipstick, a broken vase, an unusable broken object that had to be thrown out. She had felt the eyes burning at the back of her neck when Alice got too close, or when Nacrissa’s gaze lingered. They’d both been stared at, laughed at, pushed and threatened. They both knew this was wrong and went through with it anyway and now they’d both, in one simple act, been denied their salvation and turned away at the gates. This mistake, these feelings, they’d never go away and most certainly never be forgiven in the eyes of the all mighty powerful.
So Narcissa turned back to what she always had to lean on, prayer. She prayed with so much remorse, on her hands and knees she begged and pleaded. She cut open her skull and let God see the maggots that had infested her mind. A touch she couldn’t undo but longed and hoped. Her rosary that pressed into her chest every night felt heavier each passing day, its reminder of her failings that couldn’t go without a punishment. Every thought, every glance, every pleasurable experience just added weight for her to carry, when will she get too weak to hold it? Will her chest eventually cave in?
She didn't just lay down with another woman; she lay herself down on the altar to be cut open as a sacrifice, for all to observe at the perfect example of what not to do. She committed one of the deadliest and hardest of all to avoid, lust. Because lust can sweep you up off your feet and give you what you want. Now she had failed, not just herself but also Alice, and the worst part is she’d forever feel that impure touch replaying in her head of that night they spent together. She'd never forget the moment when she felt pure peace and safety, until she felt shattered. She was broken glass and other people could easily be hurt by her.
It was as if Narcissa’s soul had been stained by Alice’s love, like her chest had been ripped in half, her guts spilling around her for all to see. The stains left inside her when she willfully contaminated her soul with the impurity and sins. Her body wasn’t the same as it was before, she had let herself get a taste of pleasure and it was the worst thing she could do to herself. Torturing herself for the rest of her life cause she could never feel that comfortable again. She would never again be so euphoric in her body with someone else she trusts enough to see her whole.
So she fixed it herself, just like she was supposed to. She stitched herself back up, put all the missing pieces back together, piecing back broken bones and assembling herself whole again. She put all her thoughts and fantasies in a jar, set it down at the back of the cupboard on the highest shelf. Shutting the door without letting herself look back, because the plain and simple truth is that they can’t be together, they're both girls and it’s Narcissa's duty to marry well. Why waste your time indulging in a fantasy? The truth was right in front of her when she looked in the mirror and saw her mothers glossy eyes. Cause no one, ever, in the most Noble and ancient house of Black, got anything less than pure.