A/N: My darlings! I apologize 10 million times over for the wait, I know you've likely become accustomed to daily updates! :( But unfortunately I had to surrender to the grip of writer's block until it washed away, and now I present you with the 11th chapter of One Magnet.
Let me know what you think in your reviews, as usual, my loves. x
-MJ
Chapter 11: All Eyes Are On Us Now
Sara's POV
My entire body aches. The coolness of sheets that I so desperately wish would comfort me into a few more hours of sleep is nonexistent—instead they are wrinkled and warm from absorbing emotion and body heat from us in our sleep. And while Tegan's just beside me, mere inches away, I long for her. It's a whirlwind of neediness that I never prepared myself for, seeing that I've never been the one to clingbetween the two of us. That's always been Tegan's job, and it's always been my place and my place alone to keep a level head, to keep the waves of the ocean from pulling us under. It's been my responsibility to keep us afloat, and now I've let us drown…but I have no intention of resurfacing. And truthfully, I hope Tegan doesn't, either.
My fingertips glide against silken skin between bare shoulder blades as she shifts slightly, a small whimper escaping her as she struggles to remain in the cradle of sleep. I know she's tired, and when particularly rough situations such as the one we've unintentionally gotten ourselves into come up, Tegan chooses to hide away from any chance of repercussion in the sanctity of dreams. If I weren't involved, I would allow her to hibernate until our living hell froze over, but selfishly, I don't quite feel sturdy enough to bear through this storm alone. I am the tiny ship that's been lost at sea, watching on as the swells of the tide pull me under. Though here beneath the sheets of my ocean, the fight's been drained away from my being without restore. I've fallen, and for the first time in my life, I want nothing more than to remain in the grasp of my safety net. Forever is a terribly strong word, and its use worries me beyond repair, but in the sleepy atmosphere of Tegan's bedroom as I watch the dust particles drift within the beam of sunlight that frames our forms that have become one on this lazy morning, I'm ready to say it, ready to acknowledge the truth that's been buried beneath doubt and denial. Forever is a commitment I'm willing to make with her by my side.
Something inside of me pushes me against Tegan, the magnetism that's forced our bond since the beginning of time. A bond that she's fancied referring to as a red string of fate, though one I've constantly shunned due to the mere fact that the idea of the red string applies to soul mates created romantically for one another. I understand it now—we've spent the majority of our lives as puzzle pieces desperately attempting to fit into others while ignoring the fact that our matches have been beside us all along. It's corny and a bit cliché, but I won't waste my energy on denial any longer. I'm tired and worn, crawling to my sister in hopes of being replenished, and she does so without a single utterance of annoyance or argument.
When she finally rises from slumber, she isn't hesitant to offer a shower, an offer that I sheepishly agree to without much more than a quiet nod. I've never seen the side of my sister that's as openly romantic and nurturing as the sight I'm seeing now as we step into the shower stall together, our skin slicked over by the warmth of water cascading like a waterfall that hopes to wash the essence of sleep and sex from our bodies. She takes to lathering shampoo into my hair, massaging and working her fingertips through chocolate brown locks that aren't quite as tightly curled as her own. The soap she uses against my skin smells of vanilla…it smells of her as she caresses me like I've never been caressed before, fearful that anything beyond ghosting fingertips may break me. Her touch takes to my skin like a child holding their mother's precious china, carefully taking in details they may have missed while investigating from afar. She pulls me back against her, hands mapping out the careful and meticulous curves that make up my ship that's taken a permanent fancy to her sea. I allow my eyes to close in hopes of strengthening other senses, committing Tegan's gentle grazes and the intoxicating mixture of warm water and vanilla scented steam to a book of memories tucked into the depths of my mind. I want to remember this moment forever—the moment all denial that surrounded our relationship dissipated into thin air.
Turning to face her, I allow our positions to shift, leaving her beneath the showerhead that rains against her gently. She's never looked more beautiful to me as I return the favour of washing her clean of thoughts that pester her mind until she feels serene and totally at peace, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as our eyes gazes meet. The rhythm of my heart slows as if time itself lags behind with the realizations that surround us, our lips brushing lazily in a kiss meant solely to eliminate longing. I finally feel at ease initiating affectionate gestures, feel at ease noting the way Tegan's warmth against me is the most comforting feeling I've ever been blessed with. But our personal moment of blissful disregard to the rest of the world is short lived when the sound of Tegan's phone ringing drags us from our cover. She looks to me, my face in her hands, water streaming over her face making for the most cleansing sight that I've surely ever laid eyes on.
"Please let it go to voicemail," I say to her quietly, feeling so desperately helpless in the situation we've managed to find ourselves in. I watch as the knot in her throat bobs as she swallows, a discontent tug at the corner of her lips letting me know that I my plea goes unheard as she steps from the shower reluctantly, snaking a towel about her body as she hurries into the bedroom to answer another person's call for her. A heavy sigh escapes me as I rinse my body and hair over once more, following after my twin turned lover after finding her missing warmth in a sunny yellow towel that offers me the comfort I'm actively seeking. In the doorway, I watch as she barely speaks into the receiver, the smiling face I knew just a moment ago disappearing and being replaced by one of grave seriousness. She mumbles a few short answers before offering a defeated goodbye, tossing her mobile onto the surface of unmade sheets and comforters. When our gazes meet, I raise my brows as if to silently inquire, though she simply takes a place on the edge of the mattress and allows her head to fall into her hands, fingers tugging at wet curls in frustration. The sight alone has me by her side in an instant, arm around her to serve as a safety net. "Tee?" I finally speak up cautiously, fingertips grazing back and forth absentmindedly over her side. "Who was that?"
Lifting her head, her expression doesn't turn as she simply mumbles, "Jack."
Tegan's POV
Morning had been going so casually, so comfortably until a call from the outside world had to rip us from our alternate reality that my apartment had created for us. Here, away from prying eyes, Sara and I could settle into domestic routine without the worry of disgraced stares and hushed whispers that those on the outside looking in would surely deal to us by the bulk. It was Jack Antonoff ringing; calling to inquire about a rumour his sister had presented him with over dinner the previous night. "It's not the right time to discuss this," he said to me in a tone so serious that it rattled my insides. I knew how close his sister Rachel was with Stacy—those two spend more time together than Sara and Stacy do. Surely my sister's girlfriend hadn't run off to seek solace already; surely the shock was still working its course through her body that I was ready to rip the head off of. Selfishly, I find myself wondering how she could dare do this to Sara, to us. It doesn't even cross my mind that perhaps she's outed our secret in a state of hopeless despair and anguish; it doesn't once cross my mind that perhaps I've hurt those closest to us by taking my sister as my own without a second thought for those who would be effected by it. Sara's fingers have moved from brushing against my side to offer more comfort in between the spaces of my own, interlacing our beings together once more. A warm tide washes over me, one that offers partial relief but simply not enough as I allow my head to fall against her shoulder. I know I should be concerned with worrying her, seeing that she'll surely take more of the backlash between the two of us, but I'm lost in my own selfish conflict and worry that I simply can't allow myself to be anything but fearful for a moment of what's to come over a rash decision my heart wouldn't allow me to pass up. I am selfish and I am impulsive. Whether or not that molds me to fit into the form of a monster that they'll sure paint me up to be, I suppose I don't know. But then again, as I look to my sister who's taken on the nurturer role for now by cradling my trembling body against her own, I wonder if I know much of anything anymore. It seems my decisions as of late have been rash and rushed, hazed and utterly foggy. Of course I love my sister; we've spent practically thirty three years forced at each other's sides. We were bound by the red string of fate long before we had a voice to decline, the pull far too tight to slip from. But now we've become ruins without a strong hand to repair us—a job that is usually my own though I am incapable of fulfilling. Who saves the heroes when they're in distress?
"Jack wants to have a word when we get to Coachella," I finally say to Sara as I allow myself to fall back against the bed, clutching the towel to my body as if allowing her to see my body would only further the injuries I'm sustaining by waging war within myself. I allow the bed to sway me as its crashing tides make a wave of nausea take me under, reminding myself that despite the fact that I may be the ocean, I am not excluded from the strength of riptides. And as I open my eyes that I shut in fear of seasickness, I turn to catch a glimpse of Sara as she lies beside me, her head resting against my chest, arm draping across my waist. I come to the realization, there in my bedroom that was meant to share with any lover other than my own sister, that she is my riptide. That magnetism, that alluring pull that I cannot fight, that suffocating craving that fills my lungs until I can no longer breathe on my own. What terrifies me the most as we lie there, still and as lifeless as I feel, I come to understand that something deep within me forces this. It forces me to love her, forces me to need her, forces me to crave that drowning sensation that leaves me helpless and weak without fail. Few times I've contemplated the real sensation of true love, assuming that the neediness within me was enough reasoning to believe I was head over heels for whoever had the strength to put up with it. A coast guard, if you will, that attempted to keep me from being submerged, though when I consistently relinquished power to my own tides, I was left to fend for myself. But here, in the middle of my own mess, surfaced my sister to assist in my drowning. Further and further I went, and now happily sinking, I'm unsure of whether or not I should feel concern. The way she looks at me says loving, says gentle, says compassion that I've never witnessed before in a gaze directed upon me. With the brush of nimble fingertips against my jawline, I understand that no one has ever caressed me as if they were caressing timeless porcelain, willing to repair my chips with care. In a tender kiss to my lips that leaves my heart to skip beats in hopes of calling out for her to rescue me once again, I can feel the energy transferring between two souls aching to rekindle. My hands take to the nape of her neck, pleading for her to keep from reeling too far. I want to cling, just as I always have, hoping that if I cling hard enough, I can disappear into her and away from the world that I've forced to crumble around me.
"I don't want to leave the bedroom, Sar," I say to her, my voice shaking and coming close to a whimper as I struggle to squeeze the stinging from my eyes that prickling tears are bringing on. "I don't want to do this anymore…"
Sara holds herself above me, hands on either side of my shoulders as the rest of her body rests against mine, her warmth consoling my dwindling spirit. Scattered and gentle kisses find their way to my forehead, cheeks, eyes, nose, anywhere that they can be placed before she mumbles to me so quietly that I barely catch her words. "Shh…nothing's going to happen, okay. Everything's going to be fine."
The disturbance in our usual routine leaves me feeling slightly shaken, knowing that I've quite often taken to reassuring Sara as she nursed her wounds. But the way she breathes so calmly, the way her fingers ease through my curls that are steadily drying against tussled sheets, have my pounding heart beginning to slow in time. "What we do is our business and our business only. It isn't like Stacy has photos she shouldn't have or proof that she can throw out to whoever will take it, hmm?" Her hand rests against my cheek before she taps it lovingly, encouraging me to open my eyes. "Look at me, Tee."
I open my eyes reluctantly, still feeling the burning of salty tears threatening to fall at any moment as they meet identical orbs overhead. Sara's expression has become a bit sterner now, though in a way that means no harm, more so to jostle me into understanding her point if anything. "Nothing's going to take me away from you. But that doesn't mean that this is going to be smooth and easy…and I know you know that. It's going to be a lot of sneaking around and…well…pretending like there isn't anything there at all."
"But—"I try to speak up, my voice cracking beneath the weight of my rushing thoughts. I mean to ask her how on Earth I'm supposed to convey anything other than love towards her now that we've released our proclamation into the open between us, but she stops me in my tracks.
"Don't interrupt me. Just listen, alright? I love you, Tegan. I love you more than a sister should love her sister, but I'm looking past that because it still makes me feel on edge. My point is that you know this isn't going to be easy. We're not going to be able to be one of those couples that you gush over day in and out. We can't walk around hand in hand at festivals, we can't snuggle in public, and we can't give anyone any reason to suspect that anything other than siblinghood is going on here…I know that hurts but…Tegan, its illegal. What we're doing is illegal. Moreover, it's immoral and if our fans found out, we'd be done for. Forever…and I can't let this tear us apart. We've worked so hard for this, it's been our dream for years and years and now we're just starting to get recognized for it…we can't throw it away now, Tee."
My lower lip begins to quiver as my heart and mind are at it once again, struggling for the right of full comprehension though forcing me to take her words in two totally separate directions. My mind understands her logic, understands the fact that we're doomed to sneak around for the rest of eternity if this is what we're destined to keep. My heart on the other hand, my sensitive little muscle that wishes it were stronger, takes great offense as if each word were a flaming sword looking to sever the connection the strings between it and her own have created as a bridge of refuge. I'm left to fend for myself; standing before a train of thought as it comes barreling towards me. I try to fight the tears, damning my overly sensitive soul as they begin to stream down my cheeks, forcing me to turn away from Sara and onto my stomach where I bury my face in the sheets that still carry her scent, the wetness of my tears blending with the wet patches my hair has left in its wake. "I just want to be alone right now, Sar," I mutter between struggles to hold back full on sob. "Go grab coffee or something…please."
A disgruntled breath passes through Sara's lips as she pushes to her knees and away from me, the magnetic pull making me feel as if I'm being pulled along with her. I cling to the comfort of my bed though, allowing her to separate though a moment before I was clawing at her to keep her from straying. I don't know what it is that I want, though I'm not terribly unfamiliar with the angst ridden feeling of confusion as I burrow beneath my blankets that carry love letters left by Sara's skin against them, pressing them into me as I seek out artificial warmth. I listen to the sound of fabric and its friction against her as she dresses in the bathroom before shrugging a jacket on to brave Vancouver's late winter. She doesn't say a word as she disappears out the front door, the sound of it falling closed echoing through my empty apartment.
She's been gone only a moment before I'm missing her like I've never missed her before.
Sara's POV
I understand that Tegan needs her space, but as my feet carry me along the sidewalks of Vancouver to a coffee shop just up the road, I can't help but scorn her internally for such childish and selfish behaviour. What did I expect, anyway? I've spent my entire life watching Tegan work her charming charisma to the public eye only to dissipate completely into a cloud of hopeless emotion that refuses all feelings aside from angst and general negativity. She'll never mature into a full on adult when it comes to her emotions, I tell myself. She'll always be a grief stricken teenager.
I had no intention of leaving her bed, but the way she turned her shoulders to me was enough to push me out for fresh air to clear my head with. The breeze is brisk as it pushes through hair I didn't bother to fix or manage, my bony fingers wrapping my jacket even closer to hug my petite frame. But just as I'm arriving at my destination, I feel the familiar buzzing of my cell in my pocket, forcing me to reach for it in hopes that it's Tegan asking sheepishly for me to return with something for her. But as fate's cruel self enjoys being such a feisty bitch to me, it's none other than Stacy ringing. Reluctantly, I slide my thumb upwards against the touch screen, bringing the receiver upwards until resting against the side of my face. "Hello?"
"Oh, nice to see I don't have to listen in on any more surprises this morning," comes Stacy's voice, bitter with betrayal. I don't even begin to attempt holding back an exasperated sigh as I lean back against the brick wall of the coffee shop, crossing my free arm against my waist. "What do you need, Stacy."
"What do I need?!" she practically yells into my ear before a scoff escapes her. "What I need is for you to tell me what the fuck is going on in Vancouver and why the hell I'm sitting in fucking Austin waiting for you while you're off rendezvousing with your sister!"
"I don't know what you're talking about." My voice remains flat, inattentive, and cooler than usual as if to tell her that I could care less about the lashing she's struggling to give me with her words. She wants me to be afraid; she wants me to beg her for something that I'm unaware of. I won't allow her to sense the fear, though admittedly it's burning up in the pit of my stomach and slowly becoming bitter tasting bile in the back of my throat. Snarling, she practically growls into my ear before barking, "I know what the fuck you're doing up there, you sick little slut. You just wait until Lindsey finds out. We'll see how much Tegan loves you then."
Without warning, the call is disconnected, leaving me to listen to a buzzing tone before I myself tuck my phone back into its place in my oversized jacket, wandering into the coffee shop in a daze as her words echo through my ears.
You just wait until Lindsey finds out. We'll see how much Tegan loves you then.