~1~
The night is far from young by the time her feet arrive at her unconscious destination. Her mind is far too occupied with whirling thoughts for her to notice the balmy summer air or the salty breeze that sweeps up the ends of her blond tresses. All that captures her focus is what happened with her husband, Dante, a few hours before and the unwanted realizations that accompany it. Making love is a normal part of a relationship, she knows this. Faking an orgasm however isn't.
Groaning a miserable sound as she grinds the heel of her palm against her forehead, Lulu drags her feet along the docks. "Ugh. I don't understand what went wrong," she mutters under her breath. Dante had kissed and caressed all the right places with his usual passion, his body moving inside hers with intent to please, but her mind had been somehow elsewhere halfheartedly participating in what's supposed to be a blissful moment between the two. Faking had been difficult, since she hadn't really done it before and from the look Dante gave her afterwards her acting might not have been the best.
Now officially stomping up the ramp that leads to the boat that's been in her family for forever, Lulu fights with the thoughts that lead her to faking to begin with.
Is this my happily ever after?
It was such a bizarre thought to have as her husband had hovered over her before. The answer should've been an easy yes . Until she remembered a feeling of floating above cloud nine instead of just on it, an irresistible pull that leaves you longing when you're apart instead of just missing, and always knowing you're wanted in every gesture instead of just the big ones. The realizations shook her to her core and forced her to escape her home after Dante fell asleep just to clear her thoughts and come back to her senses.
Stepping onto the darkened boat, Lulu brushes a piece of hair forcibly behind her ear. "You didn't settle, Lulu. Dante does make me happy. He loves me and I love him. So what if I'm not drowning in my feelings. That's just asking to get hurt," she brushes her fingertips over her heart where an ache resides that never really goes away no matter how good she is at pretending that it has.
The steps leading down creak gently under her weight until she treads to the spot where moonlight floods from directly above. She had come to the Haunted Star to be alone and figure out what's going on her head, but it becomes very clear that's the last place she'll get it when notes begin to filter through the boat with a haunting beauty that causes her heart to squeeze and her breathing to stutter. Lulu pulls the strap from her purse from over her shoulder and lays it in a seat in front of the bar as the song progresses. It's a turn from the usual yearning his notes used to create, instead capturing a distinct feel of belonging, of hope. The notes sing of the winding, floating elation of love.
Lulu drifts on trembling limbs towards the back storage room where the piano was relocated after the memories became too much. And it's there that she sees him, hands gliding over the ivory and ebony keys, bearing a precious glimpse of his tender soul. She watches him with fingers clutched tight on the doorframe as the song finds its crest, feeling pure and raw like that of real love. And like always she must make some sound that gives away her presence because his fingers halt and the song comes to an incomplete end.
Johnny Zacchara turns just enough on the creaky bench for their eyes to meet, dusky brown and honey brown. Lulu breaks the connection with a sharp breath and discovers her cheek wet. She discreetly wipes the tear away with a clearing of her throat and mentally laughs at herself for becoming so emotional. Perhaps that's what he picked up on this time. Steepling her fingers, Lulu braces her shoulder against the doorframe and gives Johnny a pointed eyebrow raise. "What're you doing here?"
He crosses his arms causing his navy button down to stretch over his shoulders. Instead of allowing her eyes to hone in on the movement, Lulu fixes her gaze to the quirk of his lips and the question in his eyes. "Well we are partners now. I figured I'd come and look the place over," he loosens his posture while turning to face the grand piano gleaming in silvery blue moonlight, "and I stumbled upon this. I... haven't played in a while. I just wanted to hear... something that's all."
The low, hesitant cadence his voice takes on as she watches him simultaneously pull inwards yet bear himself to her strikes a familiar chord within her, one that demands she somehow ease whatever's troubling him or at least be someone that listens. And just like always she finds herself taking a step forward into the room and giving him a soft smile. "Well it sounded amazing, Johnny. More than amazing, but I can't really put it into words."
He looks up at her and offers one of his tiny smiles—the ones always reserved for her—although there's a twinge of anguish hidden in his eyes despite it. "Glad you think so." He forces out a breath then raises his eyebrows and she knows the question he's going to ask before he even opens his mouth, "So what brings you by?"
She turns up her nose and meanders towards concealed boxes full of stuff probably older than her in hopes that Johnny won't pick up her mood. "No reason. Same as you even," she shrugs and sweeps hair over her shoulder as she lifts a thick black sheet to investigate.
"Oh really? At half past midnight when you've got a loving husband waiting for you at home. I don't think so," his words puncture her defenses with ease.
Her muscles knot in place while she hears the groaning of wood as he shifts behind her.
"Something's clearly bothering you, Lulu. I can listen if you want me to."
It's like being surrounded by the security of his arms the way his words brush against her light and comforting. It's achingly familiar and she finds her movements becoming jittery. Dust billows in the air as a result of her dropping the cover in her haste to spin and face Johnny with her arms crossed. "Talking with you about this is the last thing I should be doing," she glides her tongue over her lips then shrugs. Of course Dante wouldn't approve of her discussing her momentary crises of whether the happiness and love she feels is enough with the man that always—without fail—makes her heart skip a beat whenever he's so much as mentioned or in view.
He nods once then pushes to stand. "I get it. I just hate to see you so miserable," he admits as if she hadn't already known such a thing.
Him wanting her happy and safe are equivalent to things like people needing air to breathe or the sky is blue. They're facts she'll never question. Which really only makes her fidget with her wedding rings as she tracks his path to the round window opposite the entrance of the room with her eyes. The moonlight throws his profile in breathtaking relief leaving her words to come out squeezed between her throat and heart, "I'm not miserable ... And if you want to help, you could always play me something."
Johnny tilts his head her way, his irises glinting in the silvery light. "Would it really?"
Lulu clenches her jaw then sighs as she strides towards the grand piano herself. "No, you're right. My dad already warned me not to become one of the many people who'd end up lying to me in my life." She taps her fingertip feather light against random ivory keys as her hair cascades around her face. "And being here with you as you play stirs up a lot of stuff I'd rather not think about."
She hears him approach, practically feels the air move and thicken. "And yet you're still here?"
She presses a bit harder so random tones fill the room. She lifts her head and throws a wide, brief grin in his direction. "Funny right?" Her skin starts to prickle as her stomach bunches and flutters away in response to his presence right by her side. His left hand envelopes her right over the keys in a way that feels too incredible—a touch she relies on and doesn't really want to be without—even after all this time.
"Is it because whatever you're thinking about doesn't really care if you're here with me or somewhere else?" Somewhere else being at home with Dante—or unbeknownst to Johnny in bed under him.
She pulls her hand from under his, curling it nice and tight in the crook of her elbow when she folds her arms. And for a moment she shuffles her stance denying that she's holding onto his warmth and the pungent smell of young grass and roses he always carries, a reminder of the freedom and chains he's always caught between. Ultimately she faces him and his soft gaze, cocking her hip in defense. "You always have to be right don't you?"
His lips split in a big charming grin full of mirth, "Well I'll take my wins where I can get 'em when it comes to you. I know you, Lulu. Whatever this is is eatin' at you."
She folds her lips inwards and reluctantly nods before sinking onto the creaky bench. "You're right." Johnny takes a second to fill the space beside her where she lets her eyes focus on the nimble path his fingers take in creating a soothing melody. "Things were fine. Things are fine, I just don't know what's gotten into my head," she sighs and shakes her head.
Johnny sways a bit into her side in reaching for notes and she's drawn tighter against him the way attracted beings tend to move. He doesn't speak just yet allowing her thoughts a chance to unravel without pressure which makes her smile sweetly if only for a moment. But then she voices a bit of what's in her head almost too quiet for him to hear, "Maybe it's the time of year."
One hand slides of the keys, the other, then his head turns to face a few inches from hers where his eyebrows crease and his eyes search her features. "Yeah, fourth of July is tomorrow-well, actually today."
His hand sweeps up and down her arm in a way that comes natural to them and Lulu feels the burbling terror at the mention of the date abate like the end of a well worn storm. This time of the year usually doesn't bother her since she made peace with what happened, and if her emotions do start to coil and knot, she'd normally go to Maxie about it not quite feeling comfortable with bringing it up to her husband. Dante is more than willing to offer her his shoulder to lean on and is even grateful for Johnny taking the blame for Logan's death. But his hatred for Johnny is a constant that Lulu finds hard to wade through at times.
But if she's being honest with herself, Logan's death isn't what's truly getting to her and sitting like an elephant on her mind. It's Johnny's reappearance in her life as if he never really became someone she caught glimpses of once every blue moon.
Lulu runs her fingers through her hair as if to comb the cobwebs away from her thoughts so her eyes are at least a tad clearer when she meets Johnny's eyes. "Yeah, but that's not what's got me so riled up. At least not the main reason."
His fingers knead her skin on the way down to her elbow performing the work flames would as a pleasant heat surfaces just under her flesh. It doesn't really help that he gives her one of his patented lopsided grins. "Is there something I can do to help?" He pauses then straightens out as a certain glimmer darkens his eyes—a known sign of impending trouble. Knowing this certainly doesn't stop the budding smile that overtakes her face in response. "On second thought, I have an idea, but I'm sure it'll only make your husband hate me even more."
Lulu shakes her head, teeth gleaming in her smile as she grasps his hand with a short burst of laughter. "Dante's feelings for you aren't going to change even if you save a burning building full of children. I'll decide if this idea is too crazy. So what is it?"
Johnny's fingers curl around hers, his thumb rubbing steadily over tingling skin. "Okay, so I doubt you'd want to hang around town today."
"Well I could just ask for an extra shift at the PCPD," she cuts in a with a cheeky smile and giggling at the way he stares at her evenly before laughing himself.
"True. Or I can fly you out to Pennsylvania for the day for a bit of... racing."
Her jaw slacks momentarily and her brain chooses that moment to jump in and scream at the potential situation she's getting into. This is exactly like something she and Johnny would do back when they were a couple, inseparable, and in love. Just because she's been around him lately which dredged up certain feelings and doubts doesn't mean she can do this with him... right?
His hands slides out from under hers leaving hers to curl around empty space. Instead he moves away from her enough for an iron wall to wedge itself in-between them and offers her a reassuring albeit teasing lift of his lips. "There'll be no flirting on this trip. Promise."
Lips curved in a way that's asking for trouble, Lulu raises a single eyebrow. "I don't know, Johnny. Does your charm ever have an off switch?" Take that barrier.
He smirks sending her heart beat in a frantic flurry. "Is that a yes then?"
She rises from the bench and offers him her hand. "That's a hell yes."
~.~
Her breathing comes even and slow and tugs in the strong scent of cinnamon and mocha deep in her lungs. Another presence of breathing nearby causes her to shift, then the dusting of sunlight against her eyelids urges her fully awake. Lulu's eyes gradually open and eventually spot Johnny, dark hair mussed and mug of coffee to his lips as his eyes scan whatever's on his phone. Her eyes trail without thought down the opening of his shirt and she chalks the heat that begins to simmer in her belly up to waking up to a modern day Adonis.
Johnny happens to look in her direction and flashes her a smile while setting his mug down beside his single bed. "You finally up, sleeping beauty?"
Lulu eases into a sitting position feeling stiff and a little creaky from sleeping in her clothes as the white covers fold down to her waist. She doesn't answer right away as she takes in everything in the back room of the private plane: the sunlight drifting in, how Johnny had told her to come in here and get some rest as they flew... and how it was only supposed to take an hour to get to Pennsylvania. "Oh my god, I can't believe you let me sleep this long," she groans into her hands, face bowed.
"You needed it, Lu," the shortened name makes her head perk up and catch him hooking the buttons of his shirt through the holes, hiding away his skin—which she can't deny is a terrible crime. "Besides the track wouldn't have been open at two am. Now, here's your coffee and a little breakfast," he hands her a mug which warms toasty in her grip and a bag whose scent causes an immediate roar in her gut.
Johnny claps his hands together. "All right, I'll leave you to it. I've got a few more things to arrange before we can leave."
Lulu feels her breath stick in her throat as a pressure not unpleasant swells in her chest. "Uh, thank you, for this, Johnny." The words stumble to his back.
He turns back to face her and gives her a tiny smirk. "Don't thank me until this day is over."
She waits until the door closes behind him to take a sip. It goes down like a warm river of mocha and cinnamon with a twist of chocolate at the end. Her eyes squeeze shut as her smile quivers. Of course he remembers. Letting out a deep breath, she opens her eyes and sits the mug down in order to peek into the paper bag from a local coffeehouse. The sight of muffins and donuts spirals her back to a time where she and Johnny used to make disastrous meals together where ultimately Johnny ended up picking up take-out to spare their stomachs. The food settles like a pleasant embrace in her belly the same as it did back then. The glint of sunbeams off her rings as she reaches for her coffee mug stamps the kindling emotion ruthlessly.
Her hands flies to her hair knotting in the blond locks as a bubble of panic nestles in her throat. "What am I doing? This isn't some romantic getaway! I'm just spending time with a friend and probably worrying my husband sick." At this her hand finds the sleek phone sat beside her coffee mug where a few dozen messages and missed calls already dominate the surface. Not bothering to read through them she starts up a message to Dante in hopes of easing his worry.
I'm fine! Don't worry. I just needed to get away today, you know? I'm sorry I didn't warn you sooner. I should be back by the end of today. Love you.
She reads it over once deciding it tells enough without giving too much away then hits the send button. Setting it back down she pushes out of bed and heads to the tiny bathroom to freshen up as much as she can. It's when she pads out of the bathroom with the door clicking behind her that she hears the rumbles of a voice in the cabin of the plane. Her footsteps become soundless in her curiosity and soon her ear is right at the door.
"...just doing something from a friend." There isn't an audible voice that responds during Johnny's pause so Lulu figures he's speaking on the phone. "Yes, it is... You guessed right, Carly... Look, you don't have to worry, we'll be back soon."
She takes a moment before opening the door and poking her head through where she spots Johnny sprawled on one of the spacious cream colored seats, foot pulled up on the seat, and head leaning against his head in a classic bad boy I-don't-give-a-damn pose. It pulls a snort from her which draws his eye then a crooked smile as he straightens up. "I just need to grab my shoes and then we can go... that is if you have everything all set up. I mean you do look pretty comfy right there," she points out while stepping slightly into the room.
"Oh, shut up," he breathes out a laugh. "And yes, I do have things ready, so if you could just hurry ." He waves his hands in a shooing gesture.
"All right, I'm going!" Biting her lip to contain her giggles, she sits on the edge of the bed and quickly pulls on her pumps. The dull vibration of her phone sharpens her breath for a second. Dante was quick to respond.
Where are you?
An uncomfortable heat pinches the back of her neck as her fingers hesitate above the screen.
Manhattan. I'm sure Maxie will expect something nice when I get back.
The lie doesn't feel far as oily in her system as she would've expected.
"Lulu?"
She jumps up at the call and places her phone in her purse before any new messages arrive. In the cabin she saunters past Johnny ready to live in the moment. "I expect you to keep your end of the deal, Zacchara," she whirls to face him right before the exit of the plane.
A smile slowly stretches over his face and little by little he bends towards her. She nearly forgets her breathing at feeling the warm puffs of breath brushing over her lips. "Don't worry, Lu, you won't think about what's bothering you today."
He smoothly places his hands on her shoulders then guides her out of the plane before she can retort. Lulu's fine with letting him take the lead and even gives him an "A" for effort. After all, he doesn't really know that him being so close will make it kind of impossible not to think of what's troubling her.