This one took longer than I expected, but here it is!
As always, thank you for reading.
Title comes from "Stay with me" by Anson Seabra.
Chapter 11 : Kiss me like your lips could save my life
Debbie doesn't come back to sleep.
The hole in Bea's chest grows a little, and then, a lot.
She tries calling Debbie. Once, twice, and then, too many times to count, but she gets no answer.
She doesn't tell anyone. After all, she's getting kicked out sooner than later, so it doesn't matter anymore. She thinks about calling Harry, to threaten him, to beg him to bring Debbie back, but she doesn't. She doesn't want to hear his voice, and she decides that maybe, she can trust Debbie to be safe just this one night.
She forgets that the clock is ticking and that she'll run out of time soon.
She leaves the shelter at five in the morning, like she used to do weeks ago. She's reminded of the chill of the air and the familiar silence that haunts the streets when everyone is sleeping. She reconnects with the shadows and the eerie atmosphere, and the subtle excitement to be outside when no one else is. She walks down memory lane as her feet absently lead her to the familiar bench that changed her life.
She would steal the damn thing if she could, keep it with her as an object of an inestimable value.
She sees Allie, waiting for her with her blue eyes telling Bea that her sadness could be heard from miles away. She smiles like she should have known that Allie would show up, like she should have known to trust Allie with her life.
She stands silently in front of Allie, unsure whether to sit or to keep walking, to break the comfortable silence or to keep her mouth shut forevermore.
Yesterday flashes in her mind like scenes from a movie she can't forget.
The smiles. The haircut. The least convincing lie in the word. The most convincing kiss in the world. The tension. The avoidance of all eyes contacts. The sound the door made when she locked it. Their steps echoing on the sidewalk. The silence that followed them until they were walking down different streets. The emptiness she'd felt once Allie was out of sight.
The endless pause.
It feels like every moment she spends without Allie doesn't really exist as part of her life.
She feels like the kiss just happened, and at the same time, she feels like it's been a year since she's had Allie's lips pressing on hers. She feels the panic rising within her chest as her heart bends under the fear that all that has happened has been nothing but a mirage.
Or worse, a mistake.
She thinks of a dozen excuses she can say to brush the moment off, to pretend like it's no big deal if Allie wants to move on and forget about it. She thinks of the words she'll say, the way she'll pronounce them, the movement of her hands as she'll speak.
She thinks that she can be strong enough to pretend like it's fine, like this one kiss wasn't the highlight of her year. It wasn't. It was the highlight of her entire life, as stupidly cliché as it sounds.
She can tell Allie that they won't have to see each other again. She can disappear. She can leave Wentworth, leave this city altogether, and pretend like it doesn't hurt to say goodbye to the most stunning woman she's ever met. She can follow Debbie, if Debbie still wants her. She can change her name and identity and go seek the world she has lost in another country, if that's what Allie wants from her.
"Stop it," Allie chuckles, standing up next to Bea.
She stands a little closer than usual, and for the first time, Bea thinks that it isn't close enough. She doesn't move though, because then, she might get stuck in Allie's gravity for the rest of her life.
"Stop what?" she asks defensively, feeling insecure with the way Allie's blue eyes capture hers.
"Thinking. It's too loud," Allie says softly, reading Bea like an open book. "You're disturbing my own thoughts and all," she adds with a mocking tone.
"You can't tell me not to think," Bea replies in a breathy voice.
Why does it always feel like she's just ran a marathon whenever Allie looks at her like that?
Why does it always feel like the air become harder to breathe when she's so close to Allie?
Why does she always feel weak and small, and so, so vulnerable when Allie is right in front of her?
"You can think! Just not so loud, you'll only get a headache. Or is it your intention? You know what they say is the best remedy for a headache?" Allie winks.
Bea looks around her, thinking that maybe she's the victim of a bad reality show.
"I don't," she hesitantly declares. She really doesn't understand what she's supposed to reply to that, and it only makes her more nervous. She's missing something.
"You don't?" Allie gasps in amusement. She licks her lips and sends Bea a predatory look. "Bea Smith, do you want to find out?"
Bea makes a face and Allie's smile widens like she's just told the best joke in the world. The awkwardness snaps away and Bea wonders why she ever thought things would change between them. Allie has a gifted talent to make things right. Allie knows just the right, insane words to say to let Bea know that it will be alright, even when she feels it won't.
The blonde moves closer, and Bea bites her lower lip in anticipation when she feels Allie's hand toying with a strand of her hair.
It only dawns on Bea that now, she might want to take those threats seriously. That those innocent questions might not be so innocent anymore. That maybe, Allie means it now.
"Say it," Allie commands, gently, but seriously.
Bea frowns in confusion, her head still spinning from the avalanche of thoughts piling up in her brain. There are so many things she wants to say. There are so many things she's wanted to scream ever since they left each other the previous day, and it makes Allie's statement ridiculous. Say what? Everything? Then they'll be stuck here in twenty years still.
"Say what?" she asks with a hoarse voice.
Allie takes a step closer and Bea is surprised that there is still space between them. Not much, or maybe not at all, she realizes, judging by the way Allie's lips brush against hers when she speaks.
"You know what."
Allie's breath mixes with Bea's, and Bea remembers what she wants to ask. She wishes she could forget because she's not ready to hear the answer.
"Do you regre – "
Her sentence is quickly interrupted by Allie's hand pressing lightly against her back, making her stumble forward just enough for Allie's lips to capture hers. She shuts her eyes when she feels Allie placing small, soft pecks on her mouth at first. It's sweet and innocent, and it makes Bea's heart pound in her chest, until Allie deepens the kiss with an urge that wasn't there yesterday, and Bea's heart is flirting with madness.
She thinks that she moans in Allie's mouth when Allie's hand presses behind her neck to keep her as close as possible. She feels the way Allie hums lowly in her mouth. The soundwaves travel inside her body, flipping her stomach upside-down, weakening her knees, and shocking that place between her legs.
She trembles in Allie's arms when Allie bites her lower lip gently and pulls at it between her teeth.
She jumps back when her lungs burn from the lack of air.
"Does that answer your question?" Allie pants, already missing the contact.
Bea can't make a sound.
She feels like she's been hit by lightning a dozen times in the last second. She had no idea a kiss could spin her world so hard that she'd have a hard time standing afterwards. She had no idea someone could steal her breath the way Allie just did.
She's starting to realize that she might never be able to live without Allie.
Maybe it's the adrenaline or the rush of the moment, or the way Allie stares at her with the entire universe in her eyes, but Bea leans closer again until she fully presses her lips to Allie's. She starts slow because she's afraid might lose control if she doesn't, but the way Allie's body presses against hers clouds her mind. She pants in Allie's mouth and impulsively parts her lips to grant entrance to the blonde.
Allie is hot, and wet against her, and it makes Bea wants to collapse to the ground, but Allie's arms hold her steadily. When Allie's tongue slowly pushes its way between Bea's lips, Bea thinks she might implode from the way it makes her feel.
She's wrong.
The moment she implodes is when Allie's hand slowly moves up to her side, until she's touching the side of her breast.
She lets Allie steals her sanity for a second before she claims it back, afraid she's going to lose it forever.
She pulls her swollen lips away even though it physically pains her, and she leaves her eyes closed for a moment, breathing in Allie's proximity. She swallows slowly, thinking that any abrupt movement will ruin the moment.
"Sorry, it's okay. It's too soon, I get it," Allie murmurs, eyes growing darker and pupils full blown despite the newfound space between them.
Bea catches her breath and nods absently.
Is it really too soon, or is she just not ready to find out just how far they'll go if she doesn't stop them?
She doesn't want to stop, but she doesn't want to keep going either. How does she put this feeling into words? How does she tell Allie without pushing her away? How does she turn the mixture of letters floating in her head into clear sentences?
What the fuck are they now? Should they speak about their feelings and expectations, and status, and all those other things that Bea isn't ready to talk about?
They're grown women, should they even have this conversation, about girlfriends, and dating, and all the issues that come with it?
"Here, sit," Allie gestures. She interlaces her fingers with Bea's and gently pulls her down. "You're thinking too loud again. We don't have to talk."
The bench is cold against her back, and Bea finally stops panicking when she focuses her attention on the goosebumps appearing on her arms and the feel of Allie's hand in hers.
They don't say anything, but Bea can feel Allie's heavy gaze on her. She keeps her eyes on the ground, afraid of what the blonde might read in hers if she looks up. She isn't ready to reveal everything she's thinking about yet. She feels like it might ruin everything.
The kiss is still causing her heart to beat at a higher speed than average, and she thinks that no amount of time will ever be enough to tame her wild organ. She wonders if Allie can hear the drums too.
Five minutes pass, and she has no idea what to say now, what to do, so she blurts out the first sentence that comes to her mind.
"Debbie didn't come back tonight."
Bea closes her eyes for a second, cursing herself for choosing such a heavy topic.
"Where do you think she is?" Allie asks with a calm voice that eases Bea's nervousness.
"At Harry's," Bea growls. "She's at his place, I know it. And there's nothing I can do."
Allie squeezes Bea's hand. It grounds them together in this reality and prevents Bea from imagining the worst.
"Can't you call the police?"
"Without solid accusations? No. I'd only scare her more and who knows how Harry might react."
Allie feels her blood boiling. It sucks that she can't do more.
"How is she?"
"She's angry," Bea sighs. "She's probably counting down the minutes until she can leave this country. I don't want her to go back, but I won't be able to stop her. She's an adult, she can make her own decisions now."
A part of her wishes Debbie was still five years old, easy to carry away from any dangerous situation. She could simply take Debbie in her arms, kiss her forehead, and slowly walk away.
"Why is she angry?" Allie gently pushes Bea to explore the situation.
"I told her I didn't want her to be around this Brayden anymore. He's bad for her and he's obviously giving her the drugs!"
Allie nods, understanding and empathizing.
"You know, if someone had told me something like that, and I had been in Debbie's situation, I would have punched them in the face," Allie says. When Bea throws an insulted look at her, she specifies. "I just mean, it's not just you. It's not personal. She probably thinks that Brayden is the one great love of her life, and she doesn't realize that what he's doing isn't good for her."
Bea nods, agreeing with Allie.
And to think she'd wanted Debbie to know love. She regrets ever feeling like this now. She wants to take it all back: the words she said, the way she kicked Debbie out of the country, the wishes she'd made upon hearing about her boyfriend, everything.
"And how are you?" Allie nudges Bea's side.
She doesn't need to have a child of her own to imagine how Bea must be feeling.
Bea doesn't know the answer to this question. There are many answers she could give, but none could ever represent the growing hole she has in her chest.
"I just want her to come back," she admits. "I wish I knew how to talk to her so she'd understand that I just want what's best for her. Everything I tell her seems to be wrong. Everything I've done in the past suddenly doesn't matter. It's like I was never there for her. Now, she's all about this Brayden."
Bea wonders how this man looks like, the one who's slowly stealing her daughter's life. Is he good looking? Is he smart? Is he rich? Is he a master manipulator or just a young kid who doesn't know best? How did he get Debbie's attention? How did he keep it? Is he texting her now? Is he keeping her awake? Is he telling her the sweetest lies or the brutal truth? Is he in love or is he just pretending? Is he innocent or guilty?
"She'll come around," Allie tries to reassure her. "Is she safe? Should we do something?"
Bea shakes her head. She grips Allie's hand like it's her lifeline.
"I have to trust her," she swallows difficultly. "I don't trust her with Brayden, but I do with Harry. It's stupid, isn't it? I know what Harry is capable of. Debbie knows it too. She might not do anything when it comes to her boyfriend, but I trust her to react if something happens with Harry."
She seems to hesitate, and Allie is about to insist when she finally captures Bea's eyes with her own. The air in her lungs freezes and suddenly, her lungs are being ripped out of her chest.
Bea's eyes are glittering with unshed tears and Allie fights to not get up and run to Harry's place to murder the man. She would give up her freedom if it meant she could protect Bea, keep her safe from the burning tears and the deep despair that keeps chasing her. She thinks it's unfair that life keeps trying to bring down such a beautiful soul.
She sees the way Bea tries so hard to stay calm, to act like nothing is wrong with her world when it keeps crumbling down a little more every day.
She sees the mother who wants nothing more than for her child to be safe. She sees the woman who wants nothing more than to earn her freedom. She sees the little girl who's afraid of being left behind if she makes a mistake.
She sees the vulnerable warrior and she loves her.
"Stay with me, don't leave," she whispers when she notices Bea's eyes shifting away.
Bea wants nothing more than to hide her pain away. She doesn't want to add more on Allie's shoulders, especially when she knows that the blonde also has issues of her own. She thinks that Allie has so much to do too and that she can't afford to be selfish now.
She wants to hide her problems in the black of the night, far from those enchanting blue eyes that always read her mind whenever they settle on her.
She wants to hide her worries far from those warm hands that always find hers even when the moon is gone and the clouds block the light of the stars.
She wants to hide her tears from that smile, that stunning, infinite smile that steals a piece of her heart every time she stares at it a little too long.
"You still don't get it, right?" Allie asks with a hushed voice. "You don't have to pretend with me. I'm not afraid of you, Bea Smith. I've never been, and I never will be."
"You can't predict the future," Bea replies with a nonchalant voice.
"You may be right, but right now, I'm where I want to be."
Bea loves the way her heart flutters at Allie's words.
She presses her lips to Allie's cheek. It feels more intimate than the previous heated kisses.
"Me too."
Bea stops by the shelter before she heads to Franky's.
She walks into her room, hoping to find Debbie sleeping in her bed, hoping that Allie's breathtaking words somehow lured her daughter back too.
The bed is empty.
The room is cold.
The air is suffocating.
The room that saved her life a little over a month ago is now synonym of torture.
Bea locks herself in the bathroom to wash the tears away before she goes back outside.
Her mask falls back into place, fitting perfectly with the shape of her face.
It might fool the eight billion people on Earth, but Allie sees right through it.
"I didn't invite her," Franky amusedly quirks an eyebrow when she answers the knock at her door and finds Allie amongst the group. She doesn't miss the way Allie's fingers are tightly laced with Bea's and she smirks knowingly. "Something you wanna tell me?"
Maxine and Boomer quickly walks past the brunette, their quick steps leading them to the table where a variety of snacks awaits them. They dig into them, shouting vague thanks to their host as they fall into the couch and comfortably wait for their friends to join them. Franky's invitation to her place had forced them to come out of their respective rooms and finally talk to each other. It had taken one second for them to forgive each other and to move on.
"I don't care," Bea shrugs. "You invited me, didn't you?"
It seems to be enough of an argument and she pushes Franky out of the way, pulling Allie inside with her. She laughs internally, thinking that a few weeks back, she never would have had the courage to say something like that. She never would have dared to answer this way because the fear of reprisal still kept her prisoner of its grim hold.
Not anymore.
This small progress makes her entire life better.
She eyes the familiar walls between which she poured her heart out a few days ago, vaguely aware of the loud laugh coming out of Franky's throat. She pops a piece of cheese in her mouth and feeds one to Allie. Her fingers brush Allie's pink lips and a smile blooms on her face.
"Welcome," Franky snickers at Allie. "There's something different about you."
She studies Allie's eyes, face, arms, and every part of her body. She hums to herself, as if she were a detective about to solve an unsolvable case. She ignores the way Bea rolls her eyes at her and tries to push her away. She bites her lower lip playfully and waits until Bea has a sip of water in her mouth to ask Allie her next question.
"Did you get into Bea's pants?"
"Hey!" Bea protests, her cheeks turning crimson as she chokes on her drink.
She takes a step toward Maxine and Boomer, trying to escape the situation.
Franky points from Bea to Allie, her eyes twinkling with malice.
"Did you get into Allie's pants?" she gasps. She extends a hand in Boomer's direction. "Booms, pay up!"
Allie giggles and Bea nearly runs to take the last available place on the couch. She glares at Boomer who simply mumbles an excuse and throws a bill at Franky.
"I didn't," Bea protests. "I didn't come here for you to make fun of me!"
"We made a bet on who would give in first," Boomer shrugs. "I didn't think it'd be you, you walk away whenever I mention sex."
"I don't," Bea replies defensively, a bit too fast for anyone to believe her.
"Oh no?" Boomer frowns. "Fine, so about that time I tried to get myself off and – "
"The point is, no one did anything," Bea interrupts, covering her eyes with her hands before she jumps out of the couch and snatches the money away. "It's mine. It's payment for being rude and making assumptions. Consider yourself lucky I'm not asking for more."
"I tried to stop them," Maxine chimes. "They're lost causes, sorry love."
Franky smiles silently and doesn't try to take the money back. Boomer just ignores them.
Franky waits until everyone has food in their plate and a smile on their face. She prepared everything. She cooked and baked, and what had started as a few fancy sandwiches had become a ginormous buffet full of tantalizing options. She'd wanted everything to be perfect. It was the first time she welcomed everyone at the same time, and she wanted it to be casual, but memorable.
She's nervously waiting for the verdict. She's heard many people talk about her cooking skills in the past. Some were positive, but there had been this persistent guy who kept bringing her down with his ruthless words. She would hate to deceive her family. What if they never want to come back again? What if that little thing is enough for them to turn on her?
Her nervousness flies out the window when Maxine, whose appetite has been a roller coaster in the last few days, assures her that everything is excellent. She smiles like she's known all this time that her food was impeccable, but on the inside, she is flooded by relief. She inhales deeply and plasters a genuine grin on her face.
Maybe someday, she'll be brave enough to cook for Bridget too.
"Alright, since we're all here and it's been forever, let's discuss the important things," Franky declares. "First things first, Bea, you should check out this place down the street. It's a building like mine and they have a place available. You still looking for a place?"
"I am." She wishes she could give another answer.
"I know the owner, Erica. We had a few conversations and I think she's legit. She might be able to make a deal with you if you're in trouble. I'll give you the address after."
Bea agrees, thinking that anything will do now. She has two days to find a home and she's tired of visiting places all over the city. She wants it to end, once and for all, because it feels like she will never move on from the wreck of her life otherwise.
"Come with me?" she whispers to Allie.
"Always," the blonde answers smoothly.
Bea melts and Franky rolls her eyes at the poor smitten woman. At least, she thinks, they seem to have stepped out of their mutual blind spot.
"Second, Maxine, how are you feeling? Do you need anything? Do you feel sick?"
Ever since she's learned about Maxine's upcoming operation, she's lived with a weight in her stomach. There's so much she wants to do, but nothing she can accomplish. It's not like she can stab cancer in the guts or shoot a bullet through every nasty cell.
"I always feel sick," Maxine chuckles but stops when Franky's serious stare locks on hers. "I don't need anything for now, thanks," Maxine answers gently. "Let's not focus on me. Today is about you. You said you had something to tell us?"
Franky's grin transforms into a shy, humble smile. She pours herself a glass of water to heal her dry throat.
"I do, but you can't tell anyone," she specifies, looking straight into her friends' eyes.
There's a moment of silence, and for a second, everyone fears that Franky has a terrible news to announce.
"Gidget and I, we're dating. Officially," Franky declares.
The room explodes in cheers, but the loudest comes from Boomer, who's clapping and yelling like a proud mother looking down at her child. She roughly plays with Franky's hair and the brunette yelps away, lightning shooting from her eyes. The smile on her face betrays her joy.
She's finally gotten everything she's wanted.
A home. A job. A family. A hot girlfriend.
All that's missing is a hot car, so they can drive off into the sunset.
Allie observes the scene with attention. She feels like she's intruding on something private, like she has no right to be there. This is Franky's sanctuary, her journey, surrounded by her family, and Allie is still a stranger to her. She stares at Bea, whose smile is growing bigger, and she lets a smile of her own linger on her lips.
Bea looks happy, and Allie's heart is soaring.
"Isn't it a conflict of interest?" Maxine frowns, gently teasing Franky.
"Nah, it isn't. There was nothing when I was living there, so it's fine," Franky grins. "Do not even try to ruin this for me."
"I'm happy for you," Maxine replies simply. "Maybe that can explain why Bridget was so distracted recently. She gave me the wrong meds yesterday, but I caught her on time."
Maxine pauses and points a threatening finger in Franky's direction.
"Your love affair almost got me killed," she accuses playfully.
Franky pretends to beg for forgiveness, and Maxine tries to hide her laugh.
"Bow before me," she orders with an innocent voice. "If you're really serious about that apology."
"Only because it's you. Anyone else asks me this and they'll be the one kissing the floor, get it?" Franky answers, shooting a deathly look at everyone else in the room as she bows down. "Forgive me, Maxie?"
Maxine pretends to think about it and even waits an endless minute as Franky remains immobile and her back starts to ache.
"No," Maxine shrugs, cutting the tension with a single word.
Franky scoffs loudly.
"You're a dictator," she complains.
"I learned from the best. You could be such a pain in the ass back at the shelter," Maxine retorts.
Franky laughs and grabs the nearest cushion to throw it at Maxine's face. Maxine throws her hand in front of her defensively, and the cushion bounces back to attack Allie, whose surprised squeal catches Bea's ears.
Bea narrows her eyes dangerously as she looks at the scene, deciding her next move.
"Bea, I'm innocent and you know it," Franky declares quickly, seeing the devilish look in Bea's eyes.
Bea takes the cushion out of Allie's hands, kisses Allie's forehead softly as Boomer lets out an aw, and suddenly turns around, throwing the object in Franky's general direction. It lands heavily on Franky's chest and knocks the air out of her lungs.
"Someone's got a protective girlfriend," Franky grins, placing the cushion on the floor.
"Someone needs to shut up," Bea lightly replies, unbothered by the comment.
Girlfriend. It sounds perfect.
Franky would be vaguely insulted if it weren't for the gleeful look in Bea's eyes.
"Someone didn't deny that she has a girlfriend!" she nearly yells, realizing Bea's mistake. She skips from one opposite of the room to the other and places her arm around the redhead's shoulder. "My favorite student is a fast learner."
Bea shakes Franky's arm away and instinctively scoots closer to Allie in her quest for protection, unaware that her actions are only contributing to making Franky's laugh louder.
"You're hopeless, Red," Franky says.
"I caught Bridget here a few days back," Bea refocuses on the subject. "Congratulations."
"You ruined the moment actually," Franky winks. "But thanks! She came back after and we had the chance to talk so we could clear things out."
She'd feared that Bridget would tell her that it was time to end things, but it had been the complete opposite, as if getting caught by Bea had been the missing ingredient for their strange relationship to become official.
Maybe that's why Franky is stubbornly trying to set her up with Allie. It's as if she also had something she owed to the redhead. Meeting Bea had triggered something inside of her. Seeing how Bea had fought to be alive today had made Franky infinitely motivated to keep fighting too.
Now, she doesn't feel scared of anything anymore.
"Is she going to move in with you?" Maxine asks.
"Hell nah. It's too early for that," Franky shakes her head quickly, horrified at the thought.
Almost isn't scared of anything.
There's no way Bridget can move in with her so soon after they made it official. Moving in together means exposing all the little details, all the little flaws to the other person. Franky is nowhere near ready for that.
She avoids the rest the conversation by walking into the kitchen and getting more food ready for everyone. She zones out of the conversation, but glances a few times at her friends talking casually in the living room. She finishes rinsing the ingredients to make a homemade chicken pie and proceeds to cut them.
She smiles absently when Bea comes to ask her if she needs help. She tells Bea to go back to Allie before she dies from being too far away from her not so secret lover. She feels Bea's hand punching her shoulder and she laughs harder.
She stops all motion when Maxine steps next to her and asks for a glass of water. She pours the water slowly, like she's afraid she might fail at this simple task, and Maxine insists that isn't made of glass.
She nearly cuts her finger off when she loses her focus by listening too closely to what other nonsense Boomer is talking about.
Even Allie comes to her, asking her if she needs help. When Franky replies the same thing that she's said to Bea a couple minutes ago, Allie insists, and Franky needs to physically stop her from messing up her kitchen organization. She's only now starting to understand how this sweet looking blonde managed to pierce through the toughest defenses surrounding Bea.
She looks at the two women who somehow never seem to take their eyes off each other.
She looks at Maxine and Boomer yelling profanities about something related to politics.
She feels home and when she finally goes back to the group, it feels like she never left.
She glances at Bea when the other woman gets up, ready to answer her duty as a perfect host, but Bea walks in the direction of the bathroom, and Franky redirects her eyes on her other guests. She thinks that maybe, just maybe, she should fucking chill because no one is leaving and no one appears to be hating her.
Maybe.
Bea excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She takes a few minutes to come back when she notices a few pictures hanging on the walls. The once empty walls are now decorated with small polaroid pictures. Most of them are from Franky's childhood, and Bea's eyes shine at the small child portrayed in various mundane activities. She's immensely grateful that Franky has found this place to call her own.
When she comes back in the living room, she feels like she's stepping into another dimension when she realizes that the topic of the conversation has changed again.
"It's been ages since I got off properly," Maxine confesses. "My Fev posters aren't doing it for me anymore."
Bea's brain takes a second to register what everyone is now talking about and her fight or flight mode activates. Why does the conversation always come back to this damn subject? She manages to walk to Allie's side, but she keeps her eyes to the floor.
"You just need to mix up your technique," Allie explains like it's the obvious answer. Her hand automatically finds Bea's, even if her attention is directed at Boomer. "Don't just shove your hand in there. You want to take your time with it, enjoy your body."
Bea wonders when Allie became such a connoisseur about the matter, and then remembers that if anyone here knows about sex, of course it has to be Allie.
What the hell does "enjoy your body" even mean?
"Do we really have to listen to this?" Bea asks, lips pursed and knuckles turning white from how hard she's clenching her fists.
The fact that it's becoming serious with Allie changes her perception of sex. She isn't stupid. She's noticed the countless times Allie has undressed her with her eyes ever since they met. It made her feel nervous at first. Then, it made her laugh and roll her eyes. And now, it makes her all hot and bothered like she can't handle it anymore because she is painfully aware that this isn't a hypothetical situation anymore.
It can become so much more than an idea now.
A hug doesn't feel the same. It isn't such an innocent touch anymore. It can lead to so much more if they decide to let their hands wander somewhere else. It's never happened so far, but she is convinced that a single well-calculated touch could set her skin on fire or create a pool between her legs.
A wink doesn't weight the same in her stomach either. It isn't an innocent playful movement of an eyelid anymore. It isn't a game anymore. It's too real, too intense, and she can't ignore the way it looks more like a promise than a simple physical action.
"Yeah, we fucking do!" Boomer shouts back like Bea's interrupting the summum of her life.
Bea sighs, wondering why everyone around seems fine with this conversation while she's living the longest minutes of her life. Hearing Allie talking about sex and all its subtleties only reminds her that she isn't nearly as experimented as the blonde. It didn't matter before, but it sure as hell does now.
She avoids what is sure is a very questioning glance from Allie.
"It's all about teasing yourself, right?" Allie's voice is so damn loud in Bea's brain. Even when she tries not to hear it, it's all she can pay attention to.
Bea tries to calm herself, but all she manages to do is to pray that Allie doesn't notice how sweaty her hand is becoming. She discreetly drops Allie's hand and doesn't react when Allie frowns at her.
Teasing herself. She shivers at the thought. She can count on one hand the amount of times she's done that, and those aren't her most valuable memories.
She remembers when Allie had told her about the nuances between sex and good sex, and how she'd naively thought that this would be the only conversation they'd ever have on the subject.
"So just really lightly massage your tits, clamp onto your nipples…"
Bea thinks she might pass out from the heat and the explicit details that Allie seems to have no problem to add. With every new word, new visions appear in Bea's mind. Nasty, dirty visions that she's never experienced before. It drives her insane and she can't help imagining Allie, lying on a bed, clothes scattered around her, eyes shut while her hands are traveling on the bare skin of her chest before dipping lower.
"Stroke the inside of your thigh a little bit."
And lower.
"Work the clit."
And lower.
"Then you can go in for the G spot."
She exhales loudly, hoping that she can evacuate the tension with the simple act of breathing. It fails epically, and she bites the inside of her cheeks when Allie mimes the gestures as she speaks. She tries to look away, but she can't, her eyes are mesmerized by the way Allie's hands move.
She thinks she might be in hell. Or heaven. Or a strange mix of both places where she never feels happier nor sad.
She wonders when her body started reacting so strongly to Allie's words. Has it only started today? Or has it always reacted, and she was just too good at ignoring the signs of arousal after years of terrible, forced sexual relationships?
She wonders if sex with Allie would really be different, or if it's just something the blonde had claimed to reassure her.
She closes her eyes, thinking of all the ways it could shatter her world, for the better or worse. It could the confirmation she's been waiting for her entire life, but she isn't sure what exactly it would confirm.
She wonders what would happen if she touched herself the way Allie just described.
"Are you okay?" Allie murmurs in her ear when everyone's gone to the kitchen.
Bea offers a shy, hesitant smile.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Allie apologies tenderly, delicately playing with Bea's curly hair.
"It's fine," Bea replies with a tone that suggests the opposite. "I just didn't expect your explanations."
Allie smirks.
"Too much for you?"
"Yes," Bea admits. She doesn't know why she feels so awful about the situation. Surely, she can't be the only person on this planet to feel this way. She can't be the only one to feel like the pressure is ginormous and the expectations are unreachable.
"Don't worry," Allie tells her. "We don't have to talk about it."
Bea nods absently. It isn't that she doesn't want to talk about it per say. It's just that there's so many things that remain unsaid between the two of them, so many well guarded secrets that she can't tell Allie unless she wants to risk losing her. There are so many influences on her that she can't even remember them all.
"Are you okay?" Allie asks.
Bea keeps her lips shut, the answer hiding somewhere she can't access.
"Hey lovers, get your asses here!" Franky calls from the other room. "We need help unless you want to be responsible for the biggest culinary disaster in the world."
Bea stands at the sound of Franky's voice, both relieved and annoyed at the interruption.
"Let's go," she reaches for Allie's hand.
The answer remains unknown and both women pretend like its absence doesn't set their hearts ablaze.
The apartment is larger than she expected it to be and she hears Allie gasps audibly when they enter.
The front door leads to a small hallway bordered by closets. It guides them to a huge room that appears to be an open space composing the living room and the kitchen. They are separated by a long bar counter that Bea looks at with avid interest in her eyes.
To the left, another hallway stretches in the direction of the master bedroom and a spacious bathroom. To the far right of the living room, she notices another door that seems to lead to another small bedroom. Around them, walls made of bricks offer a rusty but cozy ambiance to the apartment. A giant rectangular window allows for plenty of sun to penetrate the apartment during the day. Suspended, modern lights complete the set beautifully.
They visit the different rooms and Bea beams at the bedrooms. The larger one is big enough to give her enough space to move around without any hassle, but still small enough that she doesn't feel intimidate by the emptiness. She'll need to buy a bed, and she momentarily wonders if she should buy one large enough to fit Allie in it too. There is no doubt in her head that if she were to move in, she'd invite Allie too.
She's surprised at how easily she accepts the idea and then she frowns, wondering if this isn't going a little too fast in her mind.
She shrugs the thought away. It isn't a question of how fast they're going. It's a question of whether she'll let Allie stay a shelter by herself while she has her own place.
No fucking way.
The second bedroom is much smaller, but two of the walls are made of solid glass that allows her to appreciate a view of a small backyard. It gives her the illusion that the room is fully open to the outside world.
Bea has no trouble imagining Debbie falling in love with the sight, and her heart clenches at the thought of her daughter.
They walk back to the living room and Bea shoots many questions at the owner, before there is only one left to ask.
"Is it taken yet?" she asks Erica with fear in her voice.
"I've had two offers," Erica replies, noting the way Bea's expression falls. "But I spoke with Franky. She strongly recommended that I met with you first."
"Do I have any chance at all?"
"She told me about your situation," Erica explains. "I hope she didn't betray your trust or anything, but she assured me that you would understand. I work at a detention center for women. I know everything there is to know about security protocols and the vulnerabilities of women in situation like yours."
It sounds like the best news Bea's heard in a while.
"I do have one last visit scheduled for tonight, and I don't want to cancel it. I can't promise you that I will give you a positive answer, but I do consider you a serious candidate."
Bea nods and tries not to let her optimism be too affected by Erica's statement.
"And the rent? I- I just got a job. I might not be able to pay the first month right away. Would that be a problem?"
"I'm sure we could find a way to make a deal," Erica reassures her.
Bea nods and lets her eyes wander on the space around her one last time.
"I want it," she declares, barely able to hold back her excitement.
It's perfect for her, for Debbie, and maybe, for Allie too.
"Give me a phone number where I can reach you. I'll try to make it quick, but as I said, I have another visitor tonight and I might need some time to think things over."
"That's alright," Bea politely says.
She knows she's running out of time, but she assumes that it's better to appear in control of her emotions than the opposite. She quickly gives Erica the first phone number that comes to her mind. She tries not to think that this is really her last chance before she needs to seriously consider moving to another shelter. She tries not to think of what would happen if she ended up to another shelter.
Beside her, Allie reminds her that she can't ever give up.
The late afternoon welcomes them with a sunny sky and a few clouds floating in the blue firmament. A fresh breeze blows in their direction, making them feel like they could easily slide with the currents if they were light enough. The temperature is warm, but nowhere near as hot as it was in the last few days, and Bea finds herself being able to walk without being dehydrated after three steps.
Her mind always returns to the apartment and to the urgency of her situation, no matter how many questions Allie asks to try to distract her. She can't stop mentally listing the different places she'll have to call if she doesn't get the place. Most shelters aren't anywhere close to Wentworth. She understands why, they can't all be located in the same area, but it still makes her life way more complicated than it has to be.
Her ideas drift to Debbie. She's constantly checking her phone to make sure there's no missed calls, no emergency texts, no hurried voice messages from her daughter that tells her there's a problem. She's constantly wondering where Debbie is, what she is doing, and mostly, what lies Harry might be feeding her. She hates that she can't find the strength to go back there and face Harry again. She hates that she can't tell anyone at Wentworth, because even if she's sure she'd receive help, she doesn't want to cause any more trouble to anyone.
"We're here!" Allie declares with a voice loud enough to pull Bea out of her inner torture.
Bea looks around her. She finds the oldest trees. The greenest lands. The tallest sculptures. The brightest sun peaking through the clouds. It seems like a small hidden paradise until she glances in the horizon and notices the shape of the many graves decorating the other half of the land.
"You brought me to a cemetery," she states with a tense voice. "That's why you insisted on spending time with me today?"
Allie sends her a smile that is far too bright to belong here.
"There's no place on Earth where life is more celebrated that at cemeteries," she cheers. "People think this place is full of sadness, but they're wrong. This place is unique. It's where everyone come to pay their respects. It's where everyone shares the same pain and, believe it or not, I'm convinced that you won't find an ounce of judgement her."
Bea nods like she understands, but she can still feel the ghosts starting to surround her.
"No matter where you come from, you won't disturb anyone praying at a grave or you won't give a second glance at someone talking out loud," Allie continues. "You'll walk by and just hope that whoever they are, they heal from their loss. You might not even notice them because they wouldn't be doing anything out of the ordinary for this place."
"It makes sense," Bea frowns. She doesn't know why she's so stunned by Allie's words. If anyone could find something positive about cemeteries, of course it'd be Allie. "Is there a reason why we're here?"
"Not really," Allie chirps. She points around them, to the vast field. There are no graves around them. It seems to be an untouched area that has yet to bear the tears of countless strangers. "But here, no one will come to disturb us, and we can just be together for a moment."
Bea looks unsure and she is about to protest when Allie tugs at her hand and brings her down to lie on the grass. She feels out of place, and strangely panicked. She can't remember the last time she did that. She wants to get up, but Allie motions for her to direct her eyes to the sky.
"Look up," Allie says gently. She keeps Bea's hand in hers and can feel Bea's pulse spike dangerously.
Bea obeys, and she focuses her sight on the sky. It feels infinite, and beautiful, and so much bluer than she remembers it to be. Maybe it's because she's spent so much time lost in Allie's eyes recently that she's forgotten about the different shades of blue floating above her. Her surroundings disappear the longer she stares at the sky. At some point, she thinks she's flying.
She has no idea how long Allie lets her stay like this, silent and lost in the way the clouds travel in the air. The Earth doesn't rotate anymore. The sounds of the city are muffled and replaced by the songs of the wind. The weight in her chest and the ache in her soul slowly leave to be replaced by a lightness she has come to associate with Allie's presence.
"So," Allie breaks the silence after a while. The blonde's eyes are glued to the sky and she doesn't look at Bea when she speaks. "doesn't it feel good?"
"What?"
"Doing nothing."
Bea snorts.
"Yeah. Yeah, it does."
Allie smiles like she's been expecting this answer. She waits a few more minutes and quietly hums. Her fingers are tracing lines on the back of Bea's hand and despite how long it has been since their first meeting, she still has trouble believing that this gorgeous woman isn't running away from her.
"How are you?"
"Better," Bea replies gently. "Thank you."
Allie's smile widens.
"Look at the shape of this cloud," she murmurs just loud enough for Bea alone to hear.
"Where?"
"That one right there. Can't you see, that looks like a prawn," she points to the sky and explains, proud of her discovery.
She's always loved watching the clouds as a child. She would lie in the middle of her backyard and find a name for even the smallest white dot in the sky. She would memorize them all and if she saw similar shapes in the future, she'd call them by their names. It felt silly, but it was an escape from her harsh reality.
She hasn't done it in forever and she feels reborn in that small moment she can share with Bea.
Bea tries to give a name to this weird, blurred form in the sky. She doesn't see a prawn at all.
"No, it doesn't. It looks like a seahorse," Bea points.
"Oh shit, yeah, it does!" Allie exclaims with a childish excitement that makes Bea swoon a ridiculous amount.
Bea finds the strength to turn her head to the side to look at Allie. Messy blonde hair is flying around Allie's head and a large grin betrays how happy Allie is. It's hard to believe everything Allie has been through when she looks at her now. Bea wonders if one day, she'll look as carefree as Allie does.
"Did you know seahorses like to swim in pairs?" Allie asks as Bea turns back to the sky.
"Do they?"
"Yes, they do. They link tails, so they don't lose each other," Allie smirks, linking her pinkie with Bea's.
The small action makes Bea's heart explode in her chest. She's grateful she's lying on the ground or she would have fallen so hard she might never have been able to get up again.
Who is she kidding? She's falling regardless. Deeper and farther than she's ever fallen. She doesn't ever want to lose Allie, and by the way Allie's keeping her close, it seems to be reciprocated.
And maybe it's the way Allie's pinkie holds her closer than any embrace they have ever given each other, but Bea turns to her side to impulsively press her lips to Allie's cheek, right at the corner of her lips. She quickly goes back to her initial position, but she can hear the way Allie beams.
"What was that for?" Allie slyly asks.
She's physically restraining herself not to turn and kiss Bea her senseless.
"Do I need a reason?"
Allie laughs quietly and sighs contently.
It's a perfect afternoon and she thinks she's in love.
It's the one thing she can't tell Bea, but there is one thing she can ask.
"Do you still think we're just friends?" she mockingly asks, referring to their latest fight.
She lets out a shriek when she feels Bea's free hand jovially slap her shoulder.
"What?" she protests with a grin. "I just want to make sure there's no misunderstanding."
She barely has time to blink before she finds herself pinned under Bea's weight, soft lips pressing on hers. She slowly closes her eyes when she feels Bea deepening the kiss. The moment Bea's moan vibrates in her mouth and sends a shock to her core, she's thankful her hands aren't free to roam over Bea's curves or she would have lost all inhibitions right this second. She gasps for air, breaking the contact before she does something she might regret.
She thinks this is what Heaven must feel like.
"Everything clear now?" Bea pants above her, eyes a shade darker than their usual light brown color.
Allie nods breathlessly as Bea moves away from her.
Why, why must Bea always move away, she wants to whine.
They remain quiet, both too concentrated on controlling their breathing to speak a word.
More clouds fly above her head, but all Allie can see are hearts and the letters that form Bea's name. She's far too gone for her own good. She didn't even know she could be that bad until she met Bea.
"What did you think of the apartment?" Bea asks after she clears her throat for the third time.
"It's great," Allie replies, head still spinning and heart still rocketing to the farthest boundaries of the universe. "I hope it works out for you."
Bea hums appreciatively. She really hopes too, that way she can finally start repaying Allie for all the help she's given her.
"I used to live in this huge fancy house," she shares, unaware that Allie already knows. "I used to have everything, but I think this small apartment could give me more than anything I've ever had."
She takes a deep breath.
In this strange place, she thinks she might finally be ready to talk to Allie about her abuse. She feels like maybe it's too late, maybe it's taken too long and she should keep it all to herself now, but Allie nudges her gently, and Bea finds her voice again.
"I don't want to scare you," she admits.
"I won't leave," Allie replies slowly.
Bea inhales deeply when she hears the words she needs most.
"He ruined that place for me," she explains slowly. "We had a pool. I brought him a lukewarm beer once and he threatened to drown Debbie if I made the same mistake again. She was three and I couldn't go to the police to ask for help because I was too scared. Now I can't see a can of beer without thinking about it."
Allie listens silently as her stomach tumbles in her belly.
What sick person threaten to drown a child?
"We had this kitchen with an island in the middle. Everyone loved it when they came to visit us. That was before he started isolating me. I burned his food one night and he threw me against it. It broke two ribs and I thought I was going to die right there because he didn't take me to the hospital until hours later. He said I needed to really learn my lesson."
Bea swallows difficultly as if the physical pain was coming back. She remembers suffocating on her own blood and being unable to get up. She remembers thinking this was the end for her.
She glances at Allie and the blonde is staring right back at her, ready to intervene at any moment. There's no disgust in her eyes, no judgment, no fear, just compassion and an openness that steals Bea's breath away.
"I can't cook without thinking that I might ruin everything if I do something wrong. I have to constantly remind myself that he's gone now and that I won't be thrown like a doll again."
Allie wants to break Harry's rib one by one and feeds on the look of pain on his face. She wants to say something, but it looks like the last thing Bea needs is to be interrupted.
"I overcooked the rice once. He took a knife and threatened me with it. He told me I should slice my skin open, see if there was anything good underneath it. He- He was about to stab me when Debbie walked in. He stopped, but I can't stop thinking, what if she hadn't? I still have nightmares about it sometimes."
Bea frowns. She can't stop. She needs to speak up. She needs to tell Allie.
"He borrowed my cards once. My credit card, my debit card, everything. He left me at home for three days without money. When he gave them back, I owed five thousand dollars to the bank, and I had one dollar left in my account. I had to work overtime to pay off the debt and I would barely see my little girl at all."
"He took my phone away and I couldn't contact anyone. He texted my friends horrible things and I- I never heard from them again," she shakes her head, thinking of everyone she's lost. "After that, I really couldn't ask anyone for help anymore. Not that I ever asked. He had this way to make me believe that he would change."
"He asked me to quit my job or he'd hurt Debbie. He said he didn't want me around other people because I belonged to him only, and he didn't like it when I paid attention to others. I refused and he locked me in my room until I accepted."
"He came home drunk too many times and I let him. He would tell me that it was because he couldn't face me without alcohol in his blood. He said that I was so terrible that he couldn't bear the thought of being with me while sober. He said I should do the same, that maybe alcohol would make my shitty personality disappear."
"He said I was useless. He said I was unloved. He said I couldn't do anything right and that he hoped I wouldn't raise Debbie to be like me. He told me the only reason Debbie was good was because of him, because half of her came from him."
"He would beg for forgiveness, take out all those flyers about how to be a better man and how to work on himself. He would call places for help on how to be better. He would tell me he was wrong and that he was sorry. He would promise me that this was truly the last time, and I believed him. I gave him so many chances…"
Bea pauses, thinking of the ways she'd let him back into her life. She was so naïve.
"It isn't your fault," Allie murmurs.
Bea nods. It isn't her fault. It took her a long time, but she knows now.
"We had this majestic king-sized bed," Bea remembers. She keeps her eyes to the sky because if she looks away, she thinks she might start crying. "It was soft and it had so many pillows on it, and he had just bought it to replace the previous one. He was proud of himself and he said I needed to reward him."
Allie braces herself for what she is sure will destroy her.
"I don't remember much about the first time," Bea reveals.
Allie hears the words echo in her brain.
First time.
"I told him I didn't want to, but he did it anyway."
Bea takes a deep breath.
"He told me he made the decisions here. I repeated that I didn't want to… Sometimes I think that if I hadn't resisted, maybe he would have been gentler," Bea finishes.
The words don't hurt as much as she thought they would, and she thanks Bridget mentally. The only reason she can say all of this today is because she knows now, it was never her fault and it never will be, and she did the best she could all those years.
She did the best she could.
All those years.
Allie thinks she might throw up.
"I didn't stop him after. The second time, the third time… and I stopped counting after. If he wanted it, the rest didn't matter. The more I resisted, the more painful it was, so I let him do it."
Allie thinks she can't breathe anymore, even when no one is pressing her down, even when the sky is wide open before her, and even when she can get up and run freely into the grass.
"I zoned out. And I kept zoning out until it just came naturally. I don't… I don't know what it's like, real sex," she quietly confesses.
Allie can't imagine what it must have felt like for Bea.
She wants to kill him.
And what can she say now? She doesn't have an answer to all those revelations. No words could ever compare to the unstoppable instinct she has to protect Bea.
Then again, she thinks, nothing has changed.
She still cares for Bea just as much.
She still thinks she's in love.
"You know what I want?" Bea asks, gazing vaguely in Allie's direction. "A place for myself. It doesn't matter if the walls are ugly or if the floor's cracked, or if the entire place needs to be renovated. I just want a solid roof over my head and a key to lock my door at night."
It's all she wants. Fuck the pool, fuck the fancy dining set and the luxury.
"I don't want someone hovering over me whenever I do something. I don't want someone telling me what I can or can't do. I want to be me and not feel bad about it."
It feels crazy amazing to say it.
"You know what I want?" Allie shifts closer to Bea. "I just want to be with you."
The words find home in Bea's heart.
Bea thinks that it's fitting for them to be at a cemetery after all.
There's no best place for her to bury her past once and for all.
She's ready to let it go this time.
She's ready to move on, with Allie.
"I want to eat whatever you cook and laugh with you when something accidently goes wrong," Allie chuckles like she wishes for nothing more. "I want to see you thrive at work. I want you to have the time of your life with your friends. I want you to feel like you're freaking Wonder Woman."
She pauses, lets the words sink into Bea's conscience.
"I want you to be the happiest you could ever be," Allie says, and it sounds like she's promising it all to Bea.
She holds the next words in her mind for a moment.
"I want you to tell me everything," she breathes out, locking her eyes with Bea's. "No matter what it is, you can tell me."
She means it.
She'll let Bea stop her. She'll let Bea decide. She'll even let Bea break her heart if it comes to that.
She won't ever hit back.
"I don't know when I'll be ready for… I'm not ready, right now." Bea replies, letting the rest of her words disappear.
It feels so good to say it. It feels like she isn't just saying it to Allie.
It feels like she's only saying it for all those times in the past where she hadn't been able to let those words out.
It feels like she finally has a voice that will be listened to. It feels like she will finally be cared for. It doesn't feel as scary as it used to be, to voice what she wants and what she needs.
"I would never force you," Allie whispers, suddenly worried she might have done something to suggest otherwise.
Bea didn't know she needed those words until she heard them loud and clear.
"I know," she swallows slowly. "I just – what if it isn't -"
The words are running away from her again and she can't chase them hard enough, so she just hopes that Allie uses her superpower to read her mind again.
So many unsaid things. So much pressure.
She wants to scream, but Allie's thumb is brushing her cheek and it sends tingles all over her body.
"Hey," Allie softly says. "It's alright."
She cups Bea's cheeks.
"I meant it when I said I want you to tell me everything, but only if you want to."
She moves closer until her lips brush against Bea's.
"The words you want to tell me? I'll cherish them."
She looks right into Bea's soul.
"And the words you don't want to say? They're yours to keep."
She waits until Bea sees her soul too.
"I'm not going anywhere."
She kisses her like she's afraid she might lose her. It's chaste and fragile, and full of hope, and Allie tries to move back, only for Bea to follow her and keep their lips sealed together.
Bea smiles into the kiss.
Allie is staying.
"I'm not going anywhere either," Bea murmurs when they separate.
Allie feels the last spark of doubt fly away from them.
A single lamp offers her some light when the night falls. Silence becomes her loyal companion as she sits at a table in the living room and concentrates on the blank sheet of paper in front of her. She makes the pen in her hand twirl a few times before she accidentally drops it the floor. The sound it makes when it hits the floor is enough to make her flinch. She sighs and writes a few words before she crosses them harshly.
She's still so furious at everything she's learned today that even the late hour can't prevent her eyes from shooting daggers at everything around her. The chair? Boom, broken. The wall? Crash, down. The ceiling? Pow, gone. She feels like she could storm off from here, find a way to make a deal with the devil, and then run to Harry's place to destroy him just the way he did Bea's life.
She scribbles a few scenarios, but she groans in frustration a few minutes later. It isn't good enough. It doesn't make her feel satisfied at all. It doesn't seem big enough to reach this ideal of justice that she firmly believes in. She wears that belief like a crown and she wouldn't take it off even if she had a gun pointed at her head.
A thousand ideas are bouncing in her brain and she has a hard time to examine them one at a time. Assault? Accident? Robbery? Damage to property? Arson? Fraud? Frame the guy for murder? Those are all things she's done before, during her glory years with the Red Right Hand. She knows how to do it, and how to do it well enough so that the deal remains untraceable to her. She wants to make all of them happen. Maybe then, it will feel like a fair revenge.
She wants him to rot in jail until the end of his miserable pathetic life.
But confidence is dangerously close to arrogance, and she knows that she can't make decisions without having a thorough plan. A flawless idea doesn't exist, and the possibility that it might be the one mischief that will lead her to prison cannot be neglected. She remembers Kaz telling her those words when they'd first started targeting her violent clients.
Don't be too sure of yourself, that is how you make mistakes.
She dismisses the idea of assaulting the man. It would be too easy to make a mistake, and she doesn't want Bea to be wrongfully accused of taking revenge on her violent ex-husband. Whatever she decides to do, she must leave Bea out of it. It must appear entirely accidental. It won't be a robbery either. She doesn't know what kind of alarms surround Harry's house, and she doesn't know the layout of the building. She can't take the risk of being trapped inside.
And if she came back with whatever object from Bea's house, Bea would figure out it was her.
Would Bea ever understand? Encourage her? Or hate her?
She should ask Bea, but then, she risks ruining everything between them.
If Bea hates her, what would she do then?
No. No way. They've finally found each other, she won't jeopardize this by telling Bea.
It has to be completely anonymous.
She can find a way to make significant damage to the property, but would that be enough? Would it be enough to equal years of domestic violence?
Allie starts writing.
The phone call is a miracle. It comes when Bea least expects it. She's barely awake, her brain still foggy from the nearly forgotten dreams she's had, when there's a strong knock on her door. She tries to find enough strength to answer, but her vocal chords don't cooperate. She groans what she hopes is a friendly sound.
"There's a phone call for you in the office," Vera informs her, slightly opening the door. "Are you available to answer it or should I tell them to call later?"
Bea thinks she mutters something that resembles a vague "I'll take it" as she gets dressed quickly and puts on her shoes before she exits her room. She yawns when she walks into the office and Vera points to the phone silently. She takes it, wondering who the hell is calling her at the crack of dawn, before she realizes that it's already nine o'clock. She clearly overslept, and she still feels like she could go right back to bed.
"Hello?" she says with a tired voice.
"Is this Bea Smith?"
The voice sounds familiar, like she's spoken with its owner recently, but her exhausted self can't quite recognize it.
"Yes."
"I'm calling about the apartment you visited yesterday. The place is yours if you want it."
Bea almost drops the phone. She opens her eyes so wide that she feels she's seeing the office for the first time. Her jaw hits the floor and all trace of fatigue disappears from her mind. She's afraid that she might be dreaming, but the questioning look that Vera sends her way is real. She tightens her grip on the phone, afraid that if she stops holding it, the moment will vanish.
"Really? It's- it's mine?" she gasps.
It's hers, and hers alone. No lease to share with anyone. No obligations to keep her tied up to a man she doesn't love. No familiar walls that remind her of the various times she was thrown violently against them. This time, she can start again for real, in a place that she already loves, in a place where she's already imagined traces of a magical future.
It can all come true now. She has a real shot at making every dream happen.
She can't wait to tell Allie.
Gosh, she isn't sure what she's most excited for: this moment, or the moment she'll tell Allie.
She can already imagine the blonde's widest smile.
She can already feel Allie's arms around her neck.
She can already smell Allie's familiar scent as she'd lean closer to capture her lips with her own in a celebratory kiss.
She turns pink when she notices Vera staring at her amusedly.
"Yes. You can come sign the papers when you are free and then, you can move in when you want. We can make an arrangement for the first month of rent. I've spoken to Franky, your reference. She assured me that I could trust you."
Bea smiles so wide that her dry lips crack and bleed a little, but she couldn't care less.
She realizes that this is what happiness feels like.
It's a little imperfect, but it's insanely joyful and exhilarating. It brings her to the top of the world while keeping her anchored to the solid, safe ground.
She turns to face Vera with stars in her eyes
"I have a place," she declares like she's won the lottery. She lets out a dozen 'thank you' and sighs a couple more times before she ends the call with a heavy, relieved heart.
She skips joyfully to Vera and practically dances as she tells her the details.
Vera looks at her proudly, assuring her that she can stay at Wentworth until she finds enough furniture to move into her new apartment. When she looks at the way Bea's radiating happiness, she is reminded why she does this job, why she loves it so much. At the end of the day, there are many priceless moments of joy that triumph over the tragic nature of domestic violence.
Bea practically runs to Maxine's room to tell her the news.
As she crosses the distance in the hallway, she feels momentarily at the top of the world.
For a second, she forgets that today, Debbie is leaving the country.
For a second, she forgets that Debbie's plane is already heading for the clouds.
For a second, she forgets that it is too late.
When she remembers, she brutally stops in the hallway.
Debbie is gone, and they didn't say goodbye.
Happiness is also painfully temporary, she thinks.
7 chapters to go!