PART 3E: 3 B.C. LOVE
Chanteuse smiled at the streaks of water passing over the land, a silhouette the land was beneath the moon, a full moon. Chanteuse, for a moment, couldn’t break away from the moon’s gaze, or notice a pack of wolves running off in the distance, with one looking over its shoulders at her, mourning the loss of death as it approaches the village. Ђe glow shined on her and shined as equivocally bright on the left side of Ķleőpĥǻ’s face.
Σntrapped by the glow itself, and not the beauty of the moon in its entirety. Chanteuse touched the bottom of her throat, she was wet and Ķleőpĥǻ smelled it in the air, and she was wetter in an instant, their breathing increasing. And Ķleőpĥǻ cringed inside and held the bottom of her own neck, and pondered Chanteuse’s thoughts.
§he wants to go out in the rain again, and want me to accompany her. And I wasn’t going to say no because I want her to smile, even if that meant sacrificing my own happiness, in place of hers.
Chanteuse looked at Ķleőpĥǻ. “I’m sorry it took me a while to respond to thy words about the rain, even though thy request stunned me, and wanting to go out in it was another startling revelation, one ye never requested before.”
“I’m learning, I guess,” Ķleőpĥǻ said earnestly.
§he’s not selfish at all, thought Chanteuse. I am starting to really care for her, despite the whispers of hate harshly zapping through me.
Chanteuse said, after much thought, “It touches my heart that ye finally want to go out in the rain with me, holding my hand, as I hold yours. Now I know ye truly love me, to get outside of yourself and suggest we do something I love, means ye can think of someone other than yourself, and that tells me even more about the kind of heart ye possess.”
Ķleőpĥǻ held her breath. Here goes.
Chanteuse continued, “Yes, I want us to go out in the rain!” Ķleőpĥǻ held her breath. I knew it, she thought, sighing, closing her eyes. “I want only one other thing more than I want that.” Maliciousness colored Chanteuse’s voice, but Ķleőpĥǻ was too naïve to notice it, or pick up on it, especially when camouflaged with the same tone of voice she always used. §he should have known it would be hard to do, to change from having evil thoughts about her friend, to replacing them with loving ones, but at least it was a start, and a starting point to branch out and grow from.
But was she ready to let those evil thoughts go?
Was she ready to love Ķleőpĥǻ?
Without the interference of the demons, no matter how hard they tried they could not enter the temple of Ķleőpĥǻ’s and Chanteuse’s body.
Because they served a greater purpose…
A purpose neither knew about, but will, in the coming years, certainly find out.
And for one, it will be too late…Ķleőpĥǻ stared into Chanteuse’s eyes, and Chanteuse was caught up in the rapture of it all, shuddering beneath the skin of her bones, her entire skeletal structure stiffened, and bone marrow produced by the dozens, tiny enzymes building into a crescendo of terror, inside she was scared of falling in love, and already being in love with a girl she used to hate opened the portals of her mind and all of it came to surface, bubbled like hot lava spewed from underground volcanos.
Chanteuse swallowed, kissed Ķleőpĥǻ’s lips and said, “And why art ye so excited to go out in the rain,” to test her loyalty, to see if what she said was true, or was she leading her on, hoping to one day make love to her, and then leave her before the last shudder of orgasm drains her exhausted body.
And she wasn’t a one stop depot, men were already doing that to her and she allowed it to happen because she maintained the reigns of control.
Ķleőpĥǻ saw a scroll on Chanteuse’s bed, and walked past her to pick it up, to do anything but stand there and fight internal feelings that urged her to reach out and toucheth Chanteuse, a girl she loved like a sister. What was she thinking? Was this incestuous on some level? If they thought they were sisters then certainly they should act as sisters and dismiss feelings of lust trying to creep into their psyches and lead them to the point of no return, in the land of Multiple Orgasms and §pasmodic Bliss.
When she cupped the scroll she decided to grip the handles of wood instead, unrolling it. And, surprised, the picture on the scroll was of Ķleőpĥǻ’s body in the nude, under a rainbow. Angrily, Chanteuse snatched it from her hands, her privacy breached, and quickly rolling it back up, tucking it under her arm, only to quickly change her mind and throw the scroll behind the bed, and the Σgyptian beddings and linens.
“Was that of me? Did ye draw that, Chanteuse? Do ye possess a talent I didn’t know about?”
“Yes, I did draw it, every day in fact when we art not near, whenever we art away from each other for more than one’s inhaling of the atmosphere, a millisecond feels like an eternity.”
“I never knew thy feelings for me ran so deep, deeply rooted in the soils of longing and yearning. How amazing and scary at the same time, if ye can understand where I’m going with this. I love ye that deeply, but we cannot be a public union. It will be the death of us. And it will shame and disgrace our families. Ye don’t remember ye art descendants of powerful dynasties. Ye blood art extensions of a power ye will never have, yet I was born of a peasant woman in a controlled village, and don’t know if I am a part of a rich blood line or not. I can only go by the rumors and the harsh whispers of the village.”
Chanteuse crawled into bed, and Ķleőpĥǻ followed her, her eyes raking her backside, and gasping with her mouth open when she saw, from behind, the lips of her gushy paradise, the small mound of silky pubic hair resilient and exotic, and it was unlike anything she hath ever seen before.
Ђey were sitting on their knees, facing each other, huge breasts against huge breasts, both opposite each other. They were living and breathing proof that everything hath an opposite, and everyone had a twin. §omeone in another part of the world looks nearly identical to ye, or shewed certain qualities and similarities, but were of no relation, and not linked by blood no matter how far back one digs into their family history, to see the length and shape of the Family Tree. For some the tree simply doesn’t exist.
Instinctively, they moved together, perfectly synchronized, of the same breathing pattern they shared, blinking at precisely the same time, on the dot, randomly, reaching over and tucking one another’s hair behind one another’s ears, so they can get a clear view of the angelic face that was before the other, and with their fingers, both trembling on the same frequency, tiny jitters building and rising from their toes, floating through the abdomen of each individual person. There were butterflies in their stomachs of the same size; Goosebumps of the same accord, moving like caterpillars along their limbs, and then vanishing into the epidermis as if they never made a gentle debut before the glow of the moon, and the light associated with it.
Ђey were illuminated.
Ђey even held their breath together, waiting to exhale together, waiting to inhale together, on one accord, yet of two hearts, two separate hearts.
The uninhibited, beautiful young women kissed each other, pecks here and there, but were too afraid of the tongue, and the power of its bilingual French cousin, the one that likes to put his tongue against the vivid motion of the opposite tongue and cause a rift in the Great Reef Barrier of the soul, seduction at its finest colored the minds of both young women. Chanteuse raised both hands and brought Ķleőpĥǻ’s breast to her lips and she kissed her nipple, making her lips, both sets, jealous.
Ђey were still on their knees, but shifted to the backs of their feet, their toes pressed into the silk of Σgyptian linen.
Moving of One motion, at the same time.
Ķleőpĥǻ was at a cross roads, and she didn’t know how to go into it, or if she should.
Ђe secret she kept from Chanteuse, but of course Chanteuse had her secrets as well. Ђere were a lot of things she didn’t know about Chanteuse, and the more she thought about it maybe Chanteuse was selfish.
Σverything had to be her way or no way, and with a sigh, the sparkles in her eyes dimming, and fading all together, she hardened herself and forced herself to go numb, and for the first time since their connection, the connection hath been broken, but the friendship still intact.
Why did it take her this long to realize that Chanteuse was an opportunist? §he thought of the rain then, and the times Chanteuse pulled her out in it, knowing that Ķleőpĥǻ would get sick and put on bed rest, when she fell ill it took days, even a few weeks for her to recover. And there have been times, when Ķleőpĥǻ was sick and in bed, nursed and filled with aloe and herbs, that Chanteuse, in her scant garments that left little to be desired, would her friend out of bed and, weak, into the rain, grabbing her hand and running through the rain forest.
Ķleőpĥǻ felt in her heart that Chanteuse purposely pulled her in the rain to keep her restricted to bed. Any real sister, or friend, would never put the life of their loved one in harm’s way, and Chanteuse hath done this to Ķleőpĥǻ for years, ever since they were little, meeting each other on the day the children of the village shunned Ķleőpĥǻ when she came around for the first time. Ђey wanted nothing to do with her, and took to Chanteuse in an instant, but Chanteuse took to Ķleőpĥǻ and ignored the children and approached her and spake, and Ķleőpĥǻ spake, Hi, and Hi, and what’s thy name, Ķleőpĥǻ.
Nice name, and what’s thy name?
§ince that day, when they were 5, they have been inseparable.
If she takes me in the rain tonight I will know she’s trying to kill me, or purposely get me sick.
Chanteuse said, “Ђe rain is pouring like tyrants on this lovely night, don’t ye agree, Ķleőpĥǻ?”
“Yes, I agree. Maybe we should go out in it, don’t ye think, Chanteuse?”
Chanteuse jolted, and then caught herself, as it dawned on her that the sparkles died in Ķleőpĥǻ’s eyes. §he noticed it in an instant. §omething hath changed, and Chanteuse narrowed her eyes, studying her. §he was about to grab her hand and pull her into the rain, so she could laugh with the drunkards of the village when Ķleőpĥǻ fell ill, making a joke out of her affliction, but she changed her game plan, the rain falling even harder and she took Ķleőpĥǻ’s hand and pulled her, gently, cautiously, out of bed.
§he turned to face her, and Ķleőpĥǻ gasped, because she knew of Chanteuse’s decision.
§he’s going to take me in the rain, and get me sick.
§he’s trying to kill me, or maybe she’s trying to buy me a one way ticket to my mother, so I can meet her, finally, and apologize for my birth taking her from this world.
“I don’t want ye in the rain tonight, Ķleőpĥǻ. Ye know how sick ye become, and I can’t bear the thought of watching ye on bed rest. It’d kill me on the inside.”
Ķleőpĥǻ hugged her tight, and said, “Ye art the best! I love even more than I have years ago, when we first met, and laid eyes on each other. I knew then I always wanted ye in my life, and I didn’t want ye to go, or ever leave out of my life.”
“Why art ye telling me this now? Why not years ago? When ye had every opportunity to inform me of those feelings? Why now, at this moment, after we shared a kiss, years ago, and never talked about it or got an understanding of what exactly happened, and now ye admit that ye have these feelings for me, and I don’t know if I receive thy words with the open arms ye art seeking.”
“It’s better late than never, dear friend, my dear sister. I have a confession, and I hope it doesn’t change how ye feel about me, and it goes against whatever it is that may become of ye and I.”
“What do ye have to tell me?”
“Ђere is no easy way to say this.”
“Why is it so difficult? Ye tell me everything, why not let me in on this new thought of yours, why do ye think my feelings will change if ye tell me thy confession, maybe I should be the judge of that.”
“It’s difficult because I love ye, and I don’t want to see ye hurt or get hurt. We can never be, and will never ever be again, Chanteuse!”
“What?” Chanteuse was crushed. “I love ye, Ķleőpĥǻ!”
Chanteuse hugged her and Ķleőpĥǻ hopped out of her huge bed, and threw on her garments, covering her body.
“Listen, Chanteuse. We art of sisters, friends actually, but close like sisters. I cannot and will not sleep with anyone I consider a sibling, or a sister.”
“But we art not sisters, Ķleőpĥǻ! Don’t ye understand that? Ђat doesn’t mean anything to ye?”
“Is that all you’re concerned with, Chanteuse? Ђy own selfish needs? Ђinking only of yourself, and tonight I thought we made a major breakthrough, and ye renege in an instant, as if I mean nothing to ye.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions, Ķleőpĥǻ!”
“Instead of saving a friendship, ye would rather throw in the towel just for a few moments in the hay with me.”
“If the sandals fit, wear them, Ķleőpĥǻ! And what is this secret ye have to tell me, because I am growing impatient.”
“I am in love!”
“Ђat’s thy news? I’m in love with ye too!”
“No, ye don’t understand. I am in love with a man!”
§lowly, the sparkles in Chanteuse’s eyes died, faster than they demised in Ķleőpĥǻ’s eyes.
And she stared deeply into Ķleőpĥǻ’s eyes.
In her heart was vengeance.