So I bet you think this is weird, right? Me making a photo album, well I have to have somewhere to keep the best of Simone's pictures. And so what if the first picture in it isn't 'technically' one of Simone's. It is one of Simone, I cut it out of a newspaper, the same picture that opened up the door to the rest of my- our- life.
A thin, brunette girl took the stairs that led down to the beach quickly, barely watching to make sure her feet didn't miss a step. She was far more concerned about what, or who, was waiting on the beach to care about something as mundane as steps. After all, how often was the love of your life out of jail? One would hope never but to Annabelle Tillman it didn't matter.
And there, standing highlighted by the setting sun's rays reflected off the water was Simone. Annabelle slowed her quick descent, just simply taking in the sight and knowing that her world was about to be put to rights. She had turned eighteen while Simone was away and she'd graduated from the school, every thing that had stood between them before was no longer clouding the picture.
She put down her bag and slipped out of her shoes. Annabelle padded quietly towards the older woman. "Waiting for me? Well I've been waiting, two months, three weeks, one day, five hours, twenty three minutes, and a handful of seconds for good measure," the brunette said nonchalantly, as if commenting about the weather or a slightly appealing book she'd read.
The blonde woman's back stiffened and her hands, which had been fiddling with something around her neck, stilled. She didn't turn, as if afraid that the voice was just an illusion and if she really did turn there would be nothing there.
"Going to look at me?" Annabelle asked, quirking up one perfectly waxed eyebrow, not that the object of her affections could see it. Annabelle ambled closer and wrapped her thin, toned arms around Simone's shoulders. "Aren't you going to turn around?" she whispered, her breath stirring the curly blonde hairs that fell free around Simone's ears.
"Annabelle?" came the quiet reply, almost pleading that this was not a hallucination, but this was too substantial to be a dream.
"No its Santa Clause," the sarcastic voice said, and Simone could feel Annabelle's lips form a small smile against the shell of her ear. Sarcasm was Annabelle's calling card, and in all the times Simone had pictured seeing Annabelle again she could never imagine the right sardonic remarks from Annabelle. This had to be real then, right? "So are you going to turn around yet?"
Shaking slightly Simone turned, almost afraid that this was just another vivid dream, taunting her. But there was Annabelle smirking a little bit, nose ring back in place, and arms still draped about the blonde's shoulders. This Annabelle was almost the same as the one Simone had first seen, smoking while waiting with her bags in front of the school. It was this same Annabelle who had ghosted through Simone's dreams while they had been apart.
"You play with those beads a lot," Annabelle observed, nearly mimicking a conversation they'd had so long ago.
"It's a nervous habit," Simone replied. She still grasped the tiny Buddhist prayers beads in her hand.
"Do I make you nervous?"
"No," Simone said, here she deviated from the script they had been rereading. Then Simone pulled the younger girl in to an embrace, pressing her lips against the ones that had made hers long for them. She tangled her fingers in Annabelle's hair, it still smelled of oranges and cinnamon as it had before.
It was a sweet kiss not one of lust, not yet any way. When the pair separated for air Annabelle did not withdraw but moved closer to lay her head on Simone's shoulder. "So you did miss me."
"I didn't know. What if you weren't coming? What if you still wanted me? What if your mother wouldn't let you come?" Simone asked, her voice shook a little as she voiced the worries that tormented her all this time. And some tears escaped the corners of her eyes.
"Of course I'd come. Of course I want you. And having a lesbian daughter raised my mom in the polls, I think she'll survive," Annabelle said gently as she whipped the tears off of Simone's cheeks. "I promised you that everything would be alright, didn't I? Well I never make a promise I can't keep," Annabelle said, pulling Simone back in to a kiss, this one more heated than the first.
The perfect couple, a perfect sunset on a perfect beach, and a perfect kiss. A perfect fairytale ending? No. This was only the first day of the rest of their lives.
Hope you guys liked this. And I hope the little 'Annalogue' in the beginning didn't confuse you when it went to a different POV. Wow, I'm a funny girl 'Annalouge' I'm amazing, I should go on a tour to bring my comedic talent to the masses.
Thanks for reading,
thriceUPONaTIME