Silence fills the air. It isn't awkward, but it isn't quite peaceful, either. Therese is lying on her back, hands clasped over her stomach. She forgot how small her bed is until she's lying in it with Carol Aird while purposefully trying not to touch. That didn't work out as planned. Their upper arms are touching. Every time they adjust, even just the slightest, their legs and hips brush. Therese would like to reach out, ask Carol to hold her but she's being difficult. She's independent now (still curses the loneliness when Carol left, still doesn't trust her). Her room is dark but if she turned her head, she'd be able to recognize the outline of Carol sleeping on her stomach, face facing away from Therese, a hand lazily and comfortably resting just before Carol's face on the bed. The usual way Carol sleeps. That hasn't changed.
Therese's mind still continues to run rampant and to think she has a meeting tomorrow with Harkevy about the sets. She's free after that, but the meeting is still in the morning. Eyes close, but she doesn't sleep. Her mind is still running a race. Thinking, over-analyzing, worrying, untrusting and afraid.
Carol shifts just the slightest beside Therese, arms and hips brushing. Therese breathes in slowly.
"This is Therese Belivet." Carol announces with a cheer in her voice. Therese has to do everything in her power to remove the look of confusion from her features, so unlike Carol.
Carol is happier, Therese remarks silently, still with her eyes closed in her dark room. No, maybe not happier, free.
She doesn't fail to notice the knowing look the man next to Carol gives her and when a waiter finally brings a chair, Carol introduces him as her lawyer and Therese has to look away from his judgmental eyes but other than the weary indiscretion, the rest of the night is filled with light conversation. Boring until the moment Carol rests a hand on Therese's leg, just above her knee, nails biting even through the fabric of the new dress she bought. Just a bit of the possessive nature Carol holds, only for a second.
Maybe it was a thank you, Carol hasn't done it again. That grip of hers, that silent way of saying 'stay, don't go, you belong here,' and Therese would be lying to herself if she were to say she doesn't miss it. God, does Therese miss all of Carol's little quirks. The way she playfully pressed feet under a table, brushed by, all things done before Harge suddenly committed to stealing away Rindy. Therese breathes out again, she understands, but that didn't stop it from hurting any less. Still afraid, possibly still a child. She understands because it hits another piece of her heart she tried so hard to stow away. Her own mother's disappearance, exiting out of her life. Maybe this is why her mother left and maybe she can't hold it against her mother any longer, but she's grown so accustomed to anger, to sadness. To dealing with the worst. That these people didn't want her, that she couldn't be in their lives.
It's another change.
Carol mumbles from beside Therese and Therese turns her head to regard the sleeping form. Carol shifts, looking uncomfortable even in her sleep. Another, inaudible mumble. Another shift. Carol's dreaming, the first time Therese was privy to such an act. Although, this is the first night that they slept together under normal conditions. Without exhaustion from the day, without worry of a private detective, just a normal day before heading to bed. The first of those in the same bed.
"Rindy -" If the room wasn't so quiet, even the streets of New York were peaceful, Therese wouldn't have caught that mumble. Therese was about to reach out, suddenly not so worried about her own fears to comfort Carol before Carol breathed in deeply, shifting right into a sitting position, standing up and exiting to Therese's bathroom. Therese's hand just falls to the bed before she nods to herself. She made up a decision. Therese shifted onto her side, one hand stretching out across the bed, just under the pillow Carol was using. Shifting closer to the middle of the already small bed. When Carol came back out, eyebrows furrowed, there was only one option. Sleep in Therese's arms because it was Therese that was leaving that wide open.
"Can I hold you?" Therese asked, quietly. Carol didn't need to verbally answer, not when the older woman simply glided to the bed. She rested her head on the pillow, facing Therese this time. Therese rested her other hand on Carol's hip and Carol moved in until there was barely any room in between them and suddenly the bed was big enough for two women.
"She's put a wall the size of China in between us, Abby." Carol breathed out. A hand was over her eyes, the other resting wearily on a cup of coffee. There was no indignation in her voice, there was only truth. It bothered Carol, of course. It hurt, but she can't hold it against Therese. She wouldn't. She can't. Abby is silent for a minute. There's the light sound of nails flicking against Abby's own mug.
"She is different, isn't she?" Abby asks, but within the question lies more of a statement. Carol looks up slowly, hand falling to the counter. Impatience shining through as usual, but Abby is thinking. Abby, always with her answers. Abby, always being reliable. She'd be absolutely nowhere without Abby, but Abby (much to Abby's dismay) isn't the one Carol fell in love with. Abby can chalk it off to another Harge, a stir of the moment affection, but if there's one person that knows Carol best, it's certainly Abby and Carol has never been more light-hearted and free since she's met Therese. "As my personal opinion, I think you need to explain everything to her. Starting at the beginning. Open up a door to her and I'm sure she'll walk through."
Carol bowed her head both hands wrapping around the coffee mug. Third cup. Mid-afternoon and she woke up in Therese's apartment with only a short note, 'Lock the door when you leave, please.' No call, no appearance. Nothing.
"I think it's something else. Something different. She walks through, but than walks back out." Carol replies.
"She needs to start over." Abby answers.
Therese was so close, Carol could feel the younger woman's warm breath on her cheek. Steady, deep breathing. Carefully, without waking Therese, Carol rested her hand lightly on Therese's neck, a steady pulse just beating under her thumb. The younger woman had previously been gripping Carol's shoulder, but with heavy sleep easing into Therese, Carol could feel Therese's grasp fall away. She could feel her heart jolt, like that meant something, like it meant the worst. Therese's comfort was exactly what she needed after the cold nightmare of losing Rindy. Losing her daughter leaves a sure ache in her heart, but keeping up with Harge is a prison, a suffocation, losing freedom and the one woman that truly loved her for everything she really was, not everything Harge wanted her to be.
"So, we'll start over." Carol announced.
I will not lose the one person that soothed my soul. It's an abomination.
"Therese Belivet, come back to me, darling." Carol's voice was smooth, almost sultry and it made Therese furrow her brows. It made a chill run along her spine. She had to breathe out. Therese's eyes flicked back from Genevieve to Carol. Therese bowed her head, obvious embarrassment, guilt coloring her cheeks a certain color of pink. Carol blew out a puff of smoke and as much as Therese tried to hide it, she couldn't. Genevieve was quite a sight on the eyes, but it was pure coincidence that Therese had caught sight of her on the opposite side of the restaurant. Carol swiveled, cigarette still between her fingers, to follow Therese's line of sight.
A moment's pause before Carol looked back to Therese. "You haven't fallen for someone else, have you?" Carol inquired, but her voice was light. Actually, it was the first admittance of love since the night she was reunited with Therese. First actual, verbal of them being something else other than friends. Carol looked down, pressing out her cigarette in an ashtray. Therese felt her whole being suddenly drop. The room was suddenly far too constricting.
How dare she - she has no right! At the same time. Like I could.
"She's an actress with Harkevy." There's a pause because that certainly wasn't an answer. "That night, before I came to see you in the Oak Room, I was with her. Just at a party. Just met her. I thought she was beautiful and than I felt guilty. I saw you in her." Another heavy pause, Therese's eyes burning into Carol's. The admission was far too much, Therese thought. Therese just swallowed, gathered up her purse and made a move to leave, but when Therese brushed by Carol, Carol grabbed Therese's wrist. Nails biting into skin.
When eyes meet eyes, Therese isn't trying to read into the gray eyes, she just looks. Doesn't move.
"I want to make it up to you." Carol whispers, emotions flickering strong across her features and Therese nods, sitting back down. "Please, for at least tonight, stop pushing me away."
