She broke the kiss placing her hands over his chest and pushing him away slightly.
"What is it?" Chicago had a concerned look on his face as his hands stopped against her bare back, inches away from the clasp of her bra.
There was no way she would do it with him in that way again. Doing it once was not okay, doing twice was a mistake. If she went for that one more time she was not sure if she would forgive herself. He didn't deserve that, it was unfair to be with him when blonde hair and green eyes were all she could see when she closed her eyes.
She wouldn't go through another night allowing his hands to run through her body while wishing they were warmer. She wouldn't bury her hands in his hair frustrated that it wasn't longer. She wouldn't take off his shirt thinking about how she wanted it to be a turtleneck sweater.
She wouldn't go through another night wishing he was Aubrey.
"I don't feel so good," Chloe said, down casting her eyes. "I'm really tired." She crossed her arms over her half-naked body, in an out of character moment of self-consciousness. What if his eyes could see through her?
"Sure," he said, taking a step back. "Do you want me to go?"
Chloe wanted to say no so she wouldn't hurt him, but she really wanted to be alone. Laying beside him while her mind was on the other side of the hallway didn't seem any better than having sex with him doing the same thing. Those were two very intimate things to do and she could not handle the fact that having Aubrey on her mind during them felt wrong in so many levels.
"I-" she started. "Do you mind if we stop this?"
Chicago stood there looking at her like a deer caught in headlights. "No. Not all."
"It just…I don't think we should be like this anymore," she said.
He nodded as if she had told him about the weather.
"I get it," he said, putting back his shirt. "No problem."
She accompanied him to the door and said goodbye with a wave of hand. That was the easiest break up of her entire life. Just a sign of how fragile and unworthy was what they had had.
It's been forty-three days since the first time she saw Aubrey and she knows that since then the blonde has been on her mind constantly. Sometimes she is just in a corner, making herself barely noticed. Sometimes she is talking about tangerine's leaves and she is never loud but captures Chloe's attention anyway. Sometimes she is walking by her side when Chloe is walking home from work in the end of the day, with hands in her pockets of that navy-blue coat, with the chilly air making her cheeks pink and blowing against her hair. In other times she devours, consumes, burns brighter than the moonlight and makes impossible to Chloe to do anything else but think about her.
Precious were the moments in which Aubrey was physically with her so she didn't have to keep imagining. After that evening with the pie and the homemade coffee, she convinced her neighbor to go with her to a coffee shop a few blocks away with the promise of the best hot pumpkin spice in town.
("How do you know that? You just moved here," Aubrey asked with a smirk.
"The best until now," Chloe said.)
Then Aubrey finally agreed to come over to dinner one night. Then to a movie night. Then to a walk in the park. Then back to that coffee shop. Then to a record store with her friend Beca. Then the dinners became more frequent and their hanging outs became longer. Faster than she could notice she was calling Aubrey – and Beca - a friend and her worries about loneliness were long gone.
Chloe has no idea at which point she knew she wanted Aubrey. It's crazy, but sometimes it feels like she had been wanting Aubrey for more than forty-three days.
Aubrey was a new musical instrument that Chloe was enthusiastically learning to use. She loved the way the words danced in her tongue before saying them out loud, watching them dissipate through the air and hitting Aubrey's ears, her brain processing the sounds and projecting her reaction to them. She would blush, if the words were too daring; she would roll her eyes, if they were silly; and she would laugh, if Chloe was lucky enough to manage that. Chloe could play Aubrey all day, if possible.
But there was nothing easy about playing that new instrument. Everyday was a challenge and not all effort resulted in something. Aubrey was closed off, shy, and with some boundaries that Chloe had no idea how to break. She would be vague about certain things and tense about others, which would bring back to Chloe's mind the anxious look she had on their very first encounter at the elevator.
Although, there were times Chloe was sure she was one or two steps away from breaking Aubrey's tall walls.
There were a few smiles and touches that kept their places in Chloe's mind as a sign that maybe what she was feeling wasn't unilateral. Maybe Aubrey wanted her just as much and had no idea of what to do about it. Sometimes she would hug Chloe just a little bit longer than usual. Other times she would tell Chloe stories that were detailed enough to not leave her filling the blanks for herself.
Everything about that woman amazed her. Her posture, her mannerisms, her perfectionist persona. She also loved how serious Aubrey could be but still go for silly remarks when she was around. Like when she would answer to Chloe's compliment about her hair or her skin with "it's the magic" and shrug with a smirk. Or when Chloe would tell her about one of the pets she took care of and she would talk about mythological creatures like dragons and hippogriffs. She was the perfect balance between poised and goofy.
Furthermore, she had stop resisting Chloe's touches. There weren't hands avoiding being touched or heads with no shoulder to rest. No more sitting by the couch with space between them or sleepovers in which they wouldn't end up in the same bed.
Those were the memories that came into her mind as put back her shirt after Chicago left. The proof of how falling for Aubrey was fast and how she wasn't running from it.
She wanted Aubrey so bad.
But it doesn't matter how much she wanted Aubrey, she had to wait for her. She had to wait for Aubrey to know if she wanted the same thing, she told herself.
That last step was entirely Aubrey's to give.
That's the reason why she was so, so glad Aubrey had kissed her first.
"I have no idea why you were laughing," Chloe chided as they left the theater. "Practical Magic is not a movie to laugh about!"
She remembers the way Aubrey bit her bottom lip as they walked side by side. Her hands were shoved in her navy-blue coat's pockets and her head was hanging low, watching her boots getting one in front of the other and taking her back home. It was Halloween night and Aubrey had this beautiful smile in her face that made Chloe think about how never occurred to her that Aubrey could be the kind of person that likes that holiday. If she could be honest, Aubrey fitted better in the other side of the spectrum.
"That is a laughable witchcraft," Aubrey said.
Chloe smirked. "And how can a chemical biology researcher have any idea about witches do?"
Aubrey blushed furiously under the street lights. "It's just a movie. Of course it's fictional," she said, keep walking with her head down. "By the way, when you said we were going to watch a Halloween movie I was expecting something more…frightening."
"Oh no," Chloe shook her head. "I hate scary movies. If I watch them, I can't sleep at night. I'm so not volunteering to spend the night alone with those images in my mind. Nicole Kidman as a redhead is way more pleasant."
"You are way more pleasant," Aubrey said in a blurt. "I mean, like redheads. If it was a competition. Which is not. I just meant that I like your hair," she ranted as they took a new street where a group of teenagers was walking a little ahead of them with pointed hats.
She was getting used to Aubrey's compliments. They were sporadic and usually out of the common sense, but Chloe guessed that's what she liked the most about it. Not to sound like a brag, but Chloe couldn't possibly count how many times she had been flattered, and she was sure none of them were like Aubrey's.
Chloe gave her a smile that said thank you and much more, she hoped. The words weren't enough, she was sure that if she tried to say them out loud, they would sound weird and never live up to match what she was feeling. Thank you was not enough.
They walked in silence for a while passing stores and pubs with Halloween decoration, pointing to each other if one of the pedestrians' costumes were remarkable. Chloe pointed out a guy wearing a shark onesie with a blonde wig ("That's Sharkira!"); Aubrey pointed out to a small woman dressed like a mushroom ("That's not a mushroom, Aubrey, that's Toad, from Mario Kart. What do you mean you never played Mario Kart?"); Chloe pointed out a woman and a man wearing colorful and long capes that seemed to shine like the moonlight in the low-light streets. Aubrey frowned at this last one and Chloe couldn't blame her because she also had no idea what costume that was supposed to be, it was just pretty.
Chloe insisted that they walked through the park, following the teenagers that were walking ahead of them, instead of walking by outside it like they used to do. There were a few picnic rugs on the grass around the pond in which groups of people were eating, drinking and laughing together. Chloe commented how she regretted not having that idea, maybe Beca would've accepted (she declined vigorously their invitation to the movies. "Why don't we go to my therapist talk about my parent's divorce instead? I think it will be way more fun.") Aubrey said they could do it next year or any other day.
The teenagers settled their own picnic rug near the pond. The night was clear and there were some pumpkin lanterns hanging on the trees, making the park look warm even if the temperature was as low and she wished she had put on one more pair of socks. She pulled a reluctantly Aubrey to sit down a little bit, finding a piece of lawn that seemed neat enough nearby the pond.
"Don't steal my heat away," Aubrey said jokingly as Chloe settled by her side, lacing their arms together and cuddling herself into the blonde's side, overlapping Aubrey's crossed legs with her own.
"Too late," Chloe smirked, nuzzling her cheek against Aubrey's tall collar.
Her heart faltered a beat when she felt Aubrey intertwin their hands together. She squeezed the oh so warm hand in her and pretended they had the entire night.
The orange lights of the lanterns were reflecting on the river and the closer group of people were listening to Neil Young's Harvest Moon. She barely could listen to the song, they were still very far and the phone that was playing the song didn't have good speakers. She was amused, enchanted and thankful when Aubrey started humming along with the song, making the sound reverberate through her body, comfortably hitting Chloe's ears. She could hear the blonde's body singing the song because her ear was against her shoulder.
Chloe was a music lover. There wasn't one Beatles' album she didn't have learned the lyrics to her heart and she can't really think of a music genre that doesn't has at least one song she is found of, but that was the best sound she had ever heard.
She turned her head, so her chin was resting on Aubrey's shoulder. She stared at the side of her face as she looked at the pond, with eyes dark because of the low light. The mental effort she had to make to remember to breathe was inhumane when Aubrey turned her head in her direction, meeting her eyes. Their noses bumped slightly and if she hadn't been so decided to let Aubrey lead whatever they were doing, she would've had crashed their lips together at the very moment.
Aubrey just stared at her with her eyes growing soft and her eyelids falling slowly. She watched Aubrey watching her for what seemed to be an eternity and she would watch for two more eternities. She tightened her hold of Aubrey's hand, not knowing if she wanted reassurance for herself or for the other woman. When she felt Aubrey's warm hand cupping her cheek she thought she was going to cry.
She didn't have the time to, though. Half eternity after that, Aubrey's lips covered hers, and felt like they were combusting right there, in the middle of that cold Halloween night.
She was surprised to realize that things hadn't really changed at all after that kiss. Aside from all the other kisses that now filled goodbyes, hellos and all those quiet nights by the couch, they were still the same.
It was like that kiss was just a much-needed confirmation to make sure they both knew what was going on. In Chloe's mind that kiss was like saying I'm falling for you and I need to know if you are aware of that. Oh, you are? Good.
All the other kisses were a way of saying she wasn't giving up. That she wasn't taking a step back. That she was crawling deeper and deeper into the shell Aubrey had built for herself. All the other kisses were the proof that she was not regretting any of that.
She hoped Aubrey knew that.
They had been dating for four months when Aubrey knocked on her door one morning. It was barely six and they were both still in their sleeping clothes. Chloe knew in what Aubrey slept; she was proud of that.
For a second, she thought she just wanted a nice chat before going to work. Chloe didn't know exactly what was, but she knew there was something important about Aubrey's research today. She was already fancying herself with the thought that Aubrey was searching for her to ease her anxiety before something so important to her, but her mind went blank when she looked down. Aubrey was holding a tiny white owl in her long hands.
"This is Neva," Aubrey had a worried look in her face. "She's not flying, neither eating. I think she broke a wing." She looked down at the bird and frowned. "Can you help her?"
The redhead allowed Aubrey in and told her to put Neva in the kitchen island. Aubrey started wriggling her hands as soon as Neva was on the surface. Chloe was careful approaching the fluffy thing, not wanting to upset her more than she already was. With a quick examination she noticed the owl really had a broken wing.
"Her wing is really broken," Chloe informed her Aubrey. "I can take her to the clinic with me today and make sure she will be fine. I can't help much here."
Aubrey stepped back nodding hesitantly. "I'd go with you, but I have to present the final essay about the tangerine leaves to my superior today. Did you ever treat owls before?"
She wasn't sure if Aubrey was just worried about the owl or if she was doubting her abilities. Chloe decide to assure her that Neva would be fine, she just wanted the blonde to relax: she wasn't in need of any more anxiety.
"I treated birds before. She will be fine," Chloe said, nudging softly Neva's head.
How did that owl got there between the time she left Aubrey's apartment after dinner and that morning? How did that little thing break her wing? She eyed Aubrey as if the words would be written over her soft blue pajama pants and old university sweatshirt. Did Aubrey received someone after she left? Where did that animal came from?
"Sure. I trust you," Aubrey said, and Chloe couldn't tell if she was talking to her or to herself.
Aubrey kissed Chloe's temple and gave a last worried look at Neva before leaving without any other information about the owl.
Neva was not a normal bird. Period.
"How did your wing fix that fast?" Chloe asked Neva, by the end of the day.
She took care of Neva as she took care of any other bird as a veterinarian. She supposed she would return her to Aubrey that evening with recommendations about being patient, giving her the medicine and calling Chloe if anything went wrong. This all turned out to be unnecessary when she entered the room where the petiants (pet + patients, for short) stayed to find Neva vividly exploring the cage she was in. There wasn't a trace of sickness or brokenness in that owl anymore. It was like weeks had passed or if her injury had never even happened.
"Neva, tell me your secret," Chloe said playfully to the owl.
"What are you doing?"
Chloe turned her head to see Aubrey standing by the door. She was wearing the navy-blue coat Chloe loved and looked a little amused with the scene she had found. "Dr. Roberts allowed me in," she explained. "Anyway, you were talking to an owl."
"This owl is a miracle." Chloe said. "I treated her like any other bird and look at her now," she pointed to Neva, that was suddenly aware of Aubrey's presence now and came closer to the front of the cage. "It's like she was never hurt."
Aubrey approached them and sat by the chair beside Chloe, dropping her bag on the floor and throwing an arm around Chloe's shoulders.
"Maybe she is a magical owl," Aubrey said without looking at Chloe and offering her finger to the owl through the bars of the cage.
Chloe laughed and rolled her eyes, leaning in and pecking Aubrey's lips, pretending to not notice her blush. "You're so cute," she said and got up from the chair. "I'm discharging her, so we can take her home now." She started filling the papers. "When are you taking her to her owner? Do they know what happened?"
She could swear she saw Aubrey gulping at the questions. "Tomorrow. They'll be back in town and I'll take her there and explain everything. I didn't want to worry them."
"Sure," Chloe murmured. "How that happened anyway? She wasn't there last night."
Now she was sure Aubrey had hesitated before answering. "They brought her soon after you left. I was alone with her when she flew away from the cage and collided against the door. You see, she is energic."
Chloe eyed the little fluffy thing still in the cage. She did realize Neva wasn't the best with her motor coordination, but the story was still odd. Of course, she wasn't thinking Aubrey would hurt a little animal, that was out of the table, she actually had no idea what she was thinking.
And it occurred like lighting up a match in a dark room. That was the moment when she noticed there was something still unnoticed by her about Aubrey.
How could she, in all that journey dedicated to learning, understanding and loving Aubrey to the fullest, had let something scape? Wasn't she paying enough attention? Was she paying attention to all the wrong things?
Something had turned on inside her, like a flame aiming to illuminate doubts. She promised herself she would wait for Aubrey, that she would respect her time, that she would dance in her rhythm. Things were working just fine, and she didn't want to ruin it. But her new doubt had put her into a state of impatient that she wasn't sure how to deal with herself.
"You know you can trust me, right?" Chloe asked Aubrey out of nowhere one day when they were sitting by Aubrey's couch, the redhead's legs over hers. She watched as Aubrey leaned over her coffee table, picking up a red knife and cutting a piece of cheese in the plate.
Neva was already gone, and Aubrey said she was safe with her owner now. They were alone with cheese and wine and no place on Earth could be better than that one for Chloe.
Aubrey stared at her for two long seconds in which Chloe felt the air getting thick only to have the atmosphere broken by the blonde's soothing voice. "I know. I trust you."
"Good, because I trust you too," Chloe said, wishing she hadn't noticed Aubrey's body stiffing under hers.
The blonde smiled at her, patted her knee and did something Chloe had no words to explain how much she loved: she leaned forward and kissed Chloe's forehead.
If she wasn't sitting, she was sure her knees would betray her. The love she had developed for Aubrey was a flame bigger than her doubts, that burned in that moment to the point in which she couldn't feel anything else but it. Every time Aubrey would show any sign that she liked Chloe, that she was not going to push her away or throw all the redhead felt about her in the trash, was the moment she felt like there were anywhere else she had to be but by her side.
Once again, she couldn't push her curiosity any more far. She had to wait for Aubrey to come around. She had nothing but faith that she would do it again, like she had been doing for months.
"Here," Chicago said, giving Chloe the screwdriver.
Chloe frowned at the sight of the object. If she was honest, she had no idea why he appeared out of nowhere months after she told him they should stop seeing each other in that way. She didn't tell him she was with Aubrey, but he didn't ask anything either. She doesn't think he really minded the reason why she as doing it. She couldn't help but feel confused when he appeared at her door, after all, she thought they would eventually forget each other existences,
"It's yours," she said, not understanding the devolution.
He shook his head with a guilty frown. "It never was."
The redhead's frown came back, this time deeper. "You lent me it-"
"-I didn't," He said, firmly.
Wait, what? Chloe shifted on her feet. Was that boy drugged?
"You came in the morning and you were so pretty, I just played along," he said, and Chloe wanted to ask him which drugs he was in and tell him to seek for help.
"I have no idea what you are saying," Chloe said slowly.
Chicago almost smirked, but seemed to control himself, deciding it wasn't the situation. "I was not the person who helped you move in."
"Are you on drugs?" Chloe asked him, not containing herself anymore. He did look a little agitated.
"What? No! Are you?" He asked back. "You were the one who thinks I helped you that night. I was not even at home."
Chloe scrunched up her face at the nonsense. Okay, Chicago was different in her memory, but she was sure it was him. He may have been shyer and have had a different posture, but it was him. She hadn't smoked weed since her junior year and she loved her body too much to go to any heavier drugs. She shook her head thinking about how nothing of that made sense.
"But I remember you. You helped me move the boxes in and mount the bed. You even cleaned the windows," Chloe recited her memories. But at the same time she went further with it, less sense they seemed to make.
Was her mind betraying her? Was she lying to herself? Was she descending into madness? She wondered. She scanned his face again and compared to her memories. It was the same person, she was not mistaken. But as he raised a brow, she was sure they couldn't be the same person. Oh God, she thought, do I need a psychiatrist?
"Chloe, I'm really sorry," he said, leaning down to look in her eyes. "But it wasn't me."
She looked in his eyes and knew he was right. Those weren't the eyes in her memories even if that was what her mind was telling her, she could feel it in her guts. He was not that person even though her memories insisted with that idea.
She looked at the screwdriver in her hand. And she noticed for the first time: could she really call that a screwdriver? It was shaped differently and seemed to barely bear the fact that it was a real object. She touched the red handle as if bullying it to reveal itself to be something else, as if telling it she knew it was part of that trick her mind was pulling on her.
"Why are you telling me this only now?" Chloe asked.
He sighed. "It was time to," he said, not looking into her eyes.
"That's all you have to say?"
"Yes," he said, still not looking into her eyes.
Chloe wasn't mad. She was confused and lost, but not mad. She wanted to scream but to herself, in hope that maybe some clearance would appear in her mind, but the more she thought about it, more her memories became blurry and vague. She knew what had happened, but the image of Chicago was just a deformed shape now.
She said goodbye to him, with a messed mind and a weird feeling about the tool on her hand. What in goddamn hell was happening?