A/N So firstly, a huge apology for being even worse than usual at reviewing. I've been involved in a show that has been taking up far more of my time and mental energy than it should have been doing, and it hasn't left me room for much else. So shouts out to all the fabulous writers who keep me entertained when times get tough. And to all the readers who have stuck with me for so long.
My thoughts go out to my wonderful reader rushing-air, and to her people in Japan.
A fist bump to my MTL homegirl who shares my love of light and colour.
And as always, for my Superbrained Black Country Princess. When life hands you lemons, yell TEQUIIILAAAAA! And bring on the dancing girls.
I don't own Skins, but I fucking love its beautiful light.
38. An Understanding Of Love
Effy
This place is full of statues. I've never seen so many statues. They're everywhere. I can see some of them peering down at me now, and I'm trying not to see the devils in their faces. It's just cold metal, Effy, just cold metal. It can't hurt you. I light up a cigarette, taking deep long drags. It's still my brain, no matter how much better it has become. No matter how much better I have become at controlling it. I've been in this half-light before, poised on the edge of the gloom, trying not to get sucked in, and I have become increasingly successful at fighting back. But never when I've been a thousand miles from Katie.
I am in Budapest. My mum is making a show here and she invited me to be part of it. It was a massive moment. The moment I stopped being her fucked up daughter, and became a fellow professional. Someone she would be proud to work with. And it meant a lot, because Anthea never compromised when it came to art. She would never have given me work just because we're family, if I have a place on this project it's because I have earned it.
And that's one of the main reasons I accepted it despite my reservations about being away from Katie. I'm still on the drugs, down to the last dose, but recently things have been pretty stable. Katie and I have both been working hard, and I haven't had any side effects for ages. At the end of the day it was just too tempting, I mean Budapest. It's fucking beautiful. I haven't even been abroad since I got sick. I guess nobody wanted to take the chance of me having a freak out on a plane. Even so I had hesitated until Katie told me she believed in me and trusted me and wanted me to have this opportunity. Well, what she actually said was 'Get your fucking sweet skinny ass over to Hungary, or I'll steal your fucking camera and go my fucking self', but I am fluent in Katie now, and I knew exactly what she meant.
So now's my big chance to prove her right. I could feel the attack coming on. In retrospect I had been feeling it brewing for days, like the pressure building inside a volcano that has to be released. Let's face it, our working surroundings were hardly the most conducive to controlling my inner turmoil. We were in the labyrinth that ran beneath Buda Castle, a series of interconnected caves that were originally created naturally, but have been enhanced by man made additions. Even though they were done out and open to tourists most of the time, they were still pretty fucking spooky, but the group we were working with had taken them over for a month and were transforming the space into the journey from life into the underworld. The whole piece was going to be a visceral experience for the audience, as they would be totally immersed in this bizarre world with performers appearing all around them. It was almost as if they were trying to recreate the darker side of Effyland. It wasn't until I got here that I realised that's why Anthea had wanted my input so much. I had an authentic understanding of the journey to hell. It was a brave move on her part, knowing that perhaps I wouldn't be able to take it, and would have to leave the project. But being me, my work could never just be all about the light, and she was giving me a chance to release some of the darkness.
For the first week, it had been nothing but amazing, living in this elegant city, meeting new people and working in this incredible space, proving that I could do this outside of the protective bubble of Abandon. But this was a city that has known pain. History weighs heavily here. Constantly invaded and kicked around between empires and reichs, it has also seen failed rebellions and the massacre of it's own citizens on more than one occasion. The people here are gracious and welcoming, but their history still bleeds all around them. I can feel it. I can see it in the faces of all these fucking statues.
My beautiful life with Katie has lulled me into a false sense of security. I've started seeing a different future to the doom laden one that hung over my existence for so many years. But I'm still me, and my brain still has the potential to betray me, and the undeniable fact is that it almost inevitably will. The difference is that now I am more self aware, I have a choice as to how I react to it. We had been working all day. The pressure always mounts the nearer you get to opening a show. Everyone is tired, and everyone gets emotional and snappy, and the tiniest of things can be the straw to break a person's self control. All of this happens, even to the most regular of brains. What fucking chance did I stand?
Two of the performers were shouting. I had no idea what they were arguing about, but they were full on screaming at each other in Hungarian, when the sound or their voices began to change. It became unbearable, high pitched and warped and deafening, and the colours began to drip from the walls. I watched Anthea going over to stick her oar in, but her voice was unnatural too. She might as well have been screaming in Hungarian for all I knew. And then I felt it, the pressure building at the base of my skull, causing me to clutch at the sides of my head and making me want to rip my own hair out, and try to squeeze my expanding brain back into place. This was it. I knew the eruption was coming. Would it be a thing of spitting fire, putting on a show, and releasing the pressure without doing too much damage, or would it be a pyroclastic flow, blowing the side of the mountain off in fury and devastating everything in its path without a hope of survival?
One thing I knew was that I had to get out of there. I needed air. I needed a chance to breathe my way through this. But how do you make a speedy exit from an underground labyrinth when all your senses have decided to drop a dozen pills and get themselves monumentally fucked up. Labyrinth? Who's fucking idea was it to work in a fucking labyrinth? I bombarded about the place, pushing people out of my way. This wasn't fucking fair. I knew the place like the back of my fucking hand when I was rational. I knew that I would stand a chance if only I could get to the fucking surface. All I needed was just a fucking moment of clarity. Suddenly a voice stopped me in my tracks, cutting clearly across the confusion. It was an unmistakable voice. It was her voice.
"Stop fucking panicking you fucksplash," she told me. "You're running around in circles. Take a deep breath and fucking look at where you're going. You're going to be fine."
So clearly I'm still 'mental'. I probably always will be. Except now I don't actually believe that being like me is wrong. There's a book called Living With Voices, that tells the stories of people who have come to accept their situation, and have learned ways to make it work for them, instead of always seeing it as a problem. If I am to do the same thing, I think I could be pretty happy living with the voice of Katie Fitch inside my head.
She calmed me down. She got me out of there in one piece, and now here I am, up in a lamplit square, staring down the devils that are living inside the statues. And they come at me. Ghosts appearing from the shadows. Strange indecipherable wraiths. They're in no hurry. They know they have me outnumbered. They know every nook and cranny of this complex and beautiful city, and I am merely an ignorant visitor. There will be no outrunning them. Soon there will be too many of them, and I will be drowning in grey.
"What do I do, Katie?" I asked her.
"Don't let the little fuckers see you're afraid, for starters," she said firmly. "I mean look at them, they're just little wispy bits of shit. Bet they aren't even corporeal. All mouth and no fucking trousers. I mean, I would offer to kick their asses, but I seriously don't think they've got any asses to kick. Just tell them to get to fuck. Wankers."
I burst out laughing. In all my years of fleeing from demons, it has never occurred to me just to stand up to them. It would never occur to Katie to do anything else. I decide to give it a go. I push myself up and out of the doorway in which I have been lurking. I am still laughing, as I face up to them, staring them out. Wispy little bits of shit.
"Get to fuck, you wankers," I laugh again, giving them the finger for good measure. "Just get to fuck, or I'll set Katie on you. And then you'll be fucking sorry."
I laugh even harder as they start to do as I say, withdrawing back into the shadows without protest, as silently as they had arrived. Maybe this is why Cook is always laughing so hard, because he keeps his demons on the run. One figure remains, and approaches me slowly. It reaches out a ghostly hand, but still I don't back down. It's probably not even corporeal.
Which is why I'm startled when I feel a gentle pressure on my cheek. And then I hear it speak, but it is not the voice of a devil. Well perhaps unless you asked my Dad.
"Effy, are you ok?" asks Anthea.
I look up at the buildings around me, and at the faces of the statues. Just cold hard metal. Nothing but cold hard metal.
"Yeah, yeah I am." I tell my mother, confidently. "I'm going to be just fine."
.
.
.
I called Katie straight away. I wanted to hear her voice for real. I wanted to tell her what had happened and how she had helped me. Of course the first thing she did was offer to cancel her gig and fly out to Budapest. She had finished on the play and was back to freelancing, so she could easily have done it, and even a few weeks ago I would have gratefully accepted just to feel her in my arms again, and have her make everything alright. But Katie can't become my new drug. Of course I love her, and I want to be with her, and there is absolutely no doubt that I would never have made it to this point without her, but the final steps have to be taken on my own. Only then can I take my recovery seriously. So I turned her down. I asked Anthea for the morning off, taking slight advantage of the fact she was my mum, but then I went back to work. I did my job, and I did it well. I didn't get lost, and I didn't let anyone down. Not my co-workers, not Anthea, not Katie, and perhaps most importantly, not myself.
We stayed for the first week of the production, during which time I handed over my projections to the Hungarian tech team, and took shots and video of the show. Even though I was immensely proud of what I had achieved, and the whole experience had been amazing, I had really started to miss Katie by the end, and I was practically jumping up and down in the back of the taxi on my way back to the warehouse once we had landed back home. I couldn't get my key in the door quick enough and as soon as I was inside I threw my bags aside with an unusual disregard for my cameras. My eyes locked onto her instantly, and I practically sprinted towards her, pushing her up against a wall and kissing her feverishly. I immediately started sliding my hands all over her body as I felt her responding to my kiss. This was the longest we had ever been apart, and I was a hungry lady.
"God, I want to taste you so fucking much," I told her starting to move my kisses down her body. I felt her tense beneath me.
"Um…" she said.
Um? Fucking um? I'm ready to give myself heart, body and soul to this woman after our separation and all she can say is um? I ripped my eyes back up to her face in confusion. Surely she wants me as much as I want her, only seconds ago she was kissing me like she wanted to devour me. Her eyes flicked sideways into the space, and I followed them. To be met by the sight of a smirking Emily and a sheepish looking Nathan. I looked back at Katie, and she shrugged apologetically.
"I missed you," I told her. Our groins were still pressed tightly together.
"I missed you too," she said breathlessly, her hands resting lightly on my hips, our foreheads touching. I knew I should break away and be sociable with her guests, but I just couldn't take my eyes off her. To my Fitch deprived eyes she looked more beautiful than ever. Fortunately, Emily came to my rescue.
"Pub," I heard her say to Nathan in the background, and shortly after I heard the front door slam, leaving me alone with her fabulous sister.
"Sweet," I said seductively. "Now we can get naked."
"Hey if there's one thing my sister understands, it's when a girl needs to get her shag on," smiled Katie.
.
.
Emily and Nathan were as pissed as rats by the time we eventually texted them to say it was safe to come back. The reunion sex had been both enthusiastic and athletic as well as intimate and intense, and there were several repeat performances. They had been joined by Naomi, who had been successfully diverted from coming straight to the flat, and now the three of them were lined up on our sofa giggling like small children.
"Glad to have her back then, Katiekins?" smirked Naomi.
"She's alright, I suppose," replied Katie, but the look of adoration on her face as she snuggled in my lap belied her casual air.
"You should have heard the moping and the pining," Nathan winked at me.
"Yeah, like she wasn't out every other night with you," laughed Emily.
I tried to hide the involuntary tensing of my muscles that the last statement had inspired. I couldn't help it. I knew she loved me. I knew I could trust her. I knew he was a good guy who had promised me he wouldn't go after her. But I still got jealous of him.
"Yeah, about that," said Katie, before uttering the words that sent icy chills down the spine of every single person who has ever been in a relationship since the dawn of time. "There's something I need to tell you."
I didn't ask her what. I didn't even reply. In a nanosecond I had transformed myself back into the emotionless didn't give a fuck Effy I had been as a sixteen year old. If Katie was going to tell me something terrible, I simply couldn't hear it as me. The only way to stop a thousand dreadful scenarios racing through my head was to shut it down completely. If I wasn't feeling anything then nothing could hurt me, right?
"Me and Nathan were out a couple of nights ago, and we ran into this guy I know," she said. "His name's Damian, and he's as rich as fuck, but not actually a plonker."
Fuck, she's going to leave me for a rich guy.
"Me and Ems met him when we did a gig at his wedding."
Or maybe not. Fuck you paranoia.
"Yeah, they made such a gorgeous couple," said Emily. "The dresses were amazing."
"Dresses?" I asked.
"Totally put us girls to shame," laughed Katie. "Hate to say it, but his husband Aaron looks more gorgeous in a frock than I do."
Ok, so not running off with the rich guy. The rich, gay, married guy. So what the fuck?"
"Anyway," said Katie, sheepishly returning to topic. "Damian owns this dead swanky gallery by the river, and he was moaning cause he had this big exhibition planned as part of this gay arts festival, but the guy had some kind of freak out and destroyed all of his paintings."
Katie looked up at me with a question in her eyes, but I wasn't quite sure what it was.
"What's your point?" I asked her, unable to continue the façade of not caring any longer.
"Well we kind of all got shitfaced, cause he was drowning his sorrows, and cause well, he was paying," she said. "Then we ended up going back to his place and doing a bunch of cocaine, cause they've got like mountains of it."
I smiled at her fondly, all the tension releasing from my body. So this was Katie's confession, that she'd been doing drugs again.
"Babes, I think it's alright for you to have a few lines if I'm in another country," I said kissing her head.
"Yeah, well it was more than a few," admitted Katie. "And you know when you get to that point of the morning when you're all just spouting bullshit and having impossible ideas?"
"I have been there once or twice," I laughed nostalgically.
"Yeah well, Damian sort of asked me if I knew any gobsmackingly talented LGBT artists who could fill the gap, and I sort of said that I did, and he's sort of coming here tomorrow to see your work"
"WHAT?" I spluttered in surprise.
"It was damn good coke," grinned Nathan.
"What the fuck am I going to show him?" I said. "Why didn't you email me or something?"
"Anthea said you were dead busy, and then you'd almost had that episode and I didn't want to stress you out," blurted Katie.
"And I'm not stressed now?" I asked her.
"It's cool, Eff," said Naomi. "We're here to help. Emily got some of your best pics printed up real nice, and Nathan's fitted up some proper blackout blinds to the skylights in the studio, so you can show him your films."
"And I'm sure if I've missed anything you really want him to see, you can show him on the laptop," said Emily.
"What harm can it do, babes?" said Katie, looking at me with such belief in her eyes it was hard to stay angry with her. "If he likes it then that's fucking amazing, but even if it's not for him, you've still got your other work. Anthea said you were brilliant in Budapest."
"Fuck it," I said.
What did I have to lose? In Budapest I had discovered that my demons were nothing more than wispy little bits of shit. Time to see what I could do without them.
.
.
.
I wasn't nervous. I didn't even know this guy, and to be fair I was already overjoyed with the way my life was going, so anything else would just be a bonus. But Katie had been up since dawn, and even now she was pacing nervously, as if it was her work that was under scrutiny. My precious girl. Even as a friend she had always had far higher hopes for me than I had ever had for myself, but her constant fighting on my behalf had had profound effects. She clearly wanted to impress Damian, so it was the least I could do to make the effort. As soon as the doorbell rang, she was off to answer it like a shot.
"Katie," said an authoritative male voice. He seemed surprised to find her here.
"Come in," she said enthusiastically. "Come and meet Effy."
A tall and immaculately groomed man in his forties stepped into the flat. I watched his eyes roam around, drinking in his surroundings and saw a small twitch of approval at our evidently bohemian existence.
"Hi, I'm Damian," he said courteously, extending his hand.
"Effy," I answered, accepting his handshake. "Effy Stonem."
"Stonem?" he said, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Not anything to do with Anthea Stonem, are you?"
"She's my mother," I replied candidly.
"Well, that's not going to do us any harm," he smiled.
"What do you mean?" frowned Katie.
"It means he's got a gallery to fill, and me having a mother who's famous in the arts world is going to bring us a built in crowd," I said, fixing Damian with an Effy special stare.
"Exactly," replied Damian, smiling back at me. "I'll be honest with you Effy. I'm in a fucking pickle, cause Anton letting me down, and I can't afford for it to happen again. I need to cause a stir with this event. I need a fucking sensational work, and I need it to happen fast. I also need someone I can rely on."
"Well, let's not waste any more of your time," I said, not allowing myself to be intimidated. "Come on through to the studio and see if I'm everything Katie's bigged me up to be."
Damian laughed.
"I like her," I heard him say to Katie as I led them into my room.
We sat around the table and I opened up the portfolio of pictures that Emily had prepared for me. Give the girl her due, she had done really well, picking out the best examples of all the various strands of my work. I studied Damian's face, as he flicked through the photos, watching all the tiny inflections in his face as he reacted to them. He took his time to absorb each one carefully and thoughtfully. He obviously knew what he was doing. The guy was no amateur, which made it all the more satisfying when I detected the flickers of approval in his gaze, despite his attempts to disguise them. I looked over at Katie who was biting her lip in nervous anticipation, her torture increasing the longer he stayed silent. She caught my eye and I winked at her, causing her eyes to bug out in surprise. I shot her a sympathetic smile. I felt strangely calm and confident. The process that had started the first time Thomas had seen my stuff back in the Abandon rehearsals had come full circle. I knew I was good. And so did Damian.
"This is impressive work, Effy," he said to me. "But it's incredibly diverse. For this to work we're going to have to narrow you down. Pick a strong theme and build around it."
"I understand," I replied. "Most of these pictures have companions, or can be fit into a stylistic theme. If you tell me what you're interested in, we can pull up the relevant images on the computer.
"Excellent," he said, flipping the page.
I heard his sharp intake of breath as he looked down, and saw a genuine smile creep across his face as he failed to hide his emotions. Opened out before him were two images of the twin suns in the period before they had gotten together. In one Naomi was focussed intently on her laptop in the rehearsal room, dressed in scruffy training gear with her hair shoved messily up, whilst behind her Emily was blatantly ignoring the information on the screen, gazing at the back of her neck as if she would die if she couldn't kiss it. On the opposite page the two of them were in the tent. Emily was stretching, whilst Naomi's face held a look of guilty fascination as she surreptitiously checked the redhead out. Even now, those pictures made me smile, the evidence of their love blazing up out of the page as blindingly as it had when I had first captured it.
"Is that Emily?" laughed Damian.
"Yeah," answered Katie.
"Who's the blonde?" he asked.
"It's her trapeze partner," said Katie. "And her girlfriend. Now. But those were taken before they got together."
"Do you have any more like this?" quizzed Damian.
"I've got the whole fucking love story," I smirked at him.
I pulled my MacBook over to the table, and opened my lovers' file, flipping through the images as Katie told the whole story. The file had been added to now of course, I had dozens of pictures of them together, their gorgeous passion for each other finally out and proud for all the world to see.
"This is beautiful," said Damian. "It's like you can see into their souls. How did you manage to capture so many intimate moments so perfectly?"
"Effy's like a ninja photographer," said Katie proudly. "And she sees everything."
Of course there were still some intimate moments of theirs that she didn't realise I had captured, but I thought it was best to keep those between the three of us.
"Do you think you could make an exhibition from this story," asked Damian.
"I know I can," I replied.
"Is there anything else you wanted to show me?" he said. "Katie mentioned something about an installation."
I let Katie drag him out for a cup of tea, whilst I set things up to show him Effyland. I knew I'd have to find some swankier artfuck title for it if we got anywhere with this, but it would always be Effyland in my head. On their return, I stood Damian in the centre of the room just as I had with Katie, and hit the space bar.
Damian's eyes were filled with wonder when the projections came to a close and I'd opened the blinds again. He didn't speak for a minute or two, and when he did it wasn't to me.
"You, Katie Fitch, are a very sneaky lady," he smiled.
"Why?" said Katie defensively.
"You didn't tell me she was your girlfriend," he grinned.
Katie's eyes sank to the floor, and she looked as guilty as a little kid caught nicking penny chews from the shop.
"I wanted you to judge her work on it's own merit," she mumbled.
"It's hard not to," he laughed at her, before turning his attention to me.
"You, Ms Stonem, have a beautiful mind and a profound understanding of love," he told me.
"I do?" I said in shock. "Fuck."
The words of this stranger hit me like the stories of God giving revelations to the saints. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I was an emotionless fuck up who lived in a constant nightmare, and that love was just a cocktail of chemicals, but it simply wasn't true. I wasn't that girl anymore. I was finally the woman Anthea had hoped I could be, the woman that Katie had always believed I would be.
"I want these love stories," said Damian. "They're perfect. Emily's photographs and Katie's video. You only have a week though. Can you do it?"
"Of course she can," said Katie enthusiastically.
Damian kept his eyes fixed on me, seeking confirmation.
"Yeah," I said quietly, giving him a slight nod.
"Then we're on," he said. "My assistant will be in touch with all the details."
We ran into Naomi and Emily coming back from their meeting with some Spanish producers as we saw Damian out the door.
"Well?" asked Emily. "How did it go?"
"He wants it. He wants it," shrieked Katie, excitedly, hugging her sister.
"Nice one, Eff" Naomi smiled at me.
Katie started babbling as she filled in the lovers about everything that had happened, the pair of them grinning stupidly when they discovered it was the pictures of them that had swung it, but I felt like I was going into shock. All of my confidence had evaporated as I realised that I had never really expected to be chosen. Fucking hell. I was actually going to have to pull this off.
"You alright, Effy?" asked Emily, having managed to extract herself from her sister's attentions.
"How the fuck am I supposed to do this in a week?" I said, stunned.
"Easy," replied Naomi, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "We call in the tribe."
.
.
Much later that night, I called the three women into the studio to take a look at the pictures I had selected to tell the story. I had printed up A4 mockups of the ones I wanted to work on and arranged them round the room in order. I sat nervously on the edge of my computer desk as they looked at the shots. I needed to get the selection right as soon as possible, as I needed to do a lot more work on them if they were to be blown up into quality prints good enough for showing.
"Looks pretty fucking good, babes," smiled Katie, but I knew she would love it whatever I did. I was more interested in what Emily and Naomi would think, especially seeing as they were the subjects. Naomi glanced over and gave me a nod of approval, but Emily looked deep in thought.
"It's good," she finally. "But it's not finished. Is it?"
Her brown eyes locked on mine and I knew exactly what she meant.
"Are you sure?" I asked her.
She looked across at Naomi for confirmation. The two of them were so in synch, that Naomi got it straight away too.
"Yeah," she nodded. "It does kinda make sense."
The only one left in the dark was Katie.
"What's with you lot?" she said. "I can cope with one mystery girl, but not fucking three of you!"
"There's more pictures," said Emily.
"Kind of like the end of the story," said Naomi.
"But she's got shots of you being all loved up and shit," frowned Katie. "What else is there to tell?"
My hand hovered over the trackpad as I placed the cursor over the icon that led to the files in question. Clicking on it could land me in a whole heap of trouble with my volatile lover, but I had become the daughter that my mother could be proud of. No compromise.
I set a slideshow in motion and witnessed one of the rarest events in the universe. Katie reduced to monosyllables.
"Is that…? Are you…? Is she…?" she stuttered, hypnotised by the images on the screen. "When did you pose for these?"
"They're not posed," said Emily calmly.
"Fucking!" gasped Katie, branching out into two syllables. "You've got pictures of my sister fucking? On the truck?"
She looked at me in absolute amazement, too shocked to be angry.
"It's not like they're pornographic," said Naomi, her arm sneaking it's way round her lover. "They're really rather fucking beautiful."
Being with the free-spirited Fitch had certainly rubbed off on her. It was true. The images weren't meaninglessly graphic. They focussed in on faces, on straining muscles, an entanglement of limbs, a pair of lips against the curve of a thigh. They showed their sex for what it was, passionate, intimate and beautiful beyond all imagining.
"But my sister…" muttered the still shocked Katie. "Fucking."
"I needed her," I said. "I needed them. I needed their light."
"When?" asked Katie. "When did you need this more than me?"
"The night you were with Nathan," I answered.
Katie and I just looked at each other, trying to understand what this meant, until we were interrupted by the sound of Emily laughing. The slideshow had moved onto the pictures that they didn't know that I had. The ones I had taken from the roof of Freddie's truck, this time with Naomi in chains.
"I thought I'd told you to fuck off by then," giggled Emily.
"Me moth, you flame," I answered simply. "I couldn't help it."
Naomi was still fascinated by the images of her own ecstasy on the screen. Suddenly she reached out and paused the display. The image showed the arching of her back as she pushed up towards where Emily's slightly open mouth was hovering just millimetres from her nipple, Emily's strong bicep beautifully defined in the emerging sunlight as she cradled her lover.
"This one," said Naomi. "I think you should use this one."
"You're ok with this?" Katie asked her, incredulously.
"Passion is our language," shrugged Naomi.
She restarted the slideshow, and I left the lovers watching themselves on screen. If they were prepared to let me show such intimacy it was only fair they got to choose the images we used. Katie had retreated to the other side of the room, and I went to join her.
"Are you ok?" I asked her.
"It wasn't a joke," she said. "You really did watch them."
"They kept me sane," I admitted.
"If I hadn't been such a coward, these photos wouldn't exist," she said.
"And is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked her.
"I don't know," she said.
"Then I'll show you," I replied.
I slipped my arms around her waist, and turned her until we were both facing the beautiful couple, and I was stood holding Katie from behind.
"Look at them," I whispered in her ear. "Really look at them."
Emily and Naomi both remained absorbed in the images on the laptop, but Emily absent-mindedly raised her hand and traced her forefinger down the back of Naomi's neck.
"See that?" I said to Katie. "There are dozens of tiny red sparks emanating from every point that Emily touches her skin."
"And there," I continued, pointing out the consequent shiver that ran down Naomi's spine. "Ice blue crystals, forming, freezing and then dissipating all in a matter of seconds. Can you see how they touch all the way down their sides? There's a blindingly bright white light constantly arcing between them driven by powerful electric pulses."
Emily whispered something in Naomi's ear, and the blonde's beautiful laughter tumbled across the room towards us.
"That sound," I murmured, pulling Katie imperceptibly closer. "That sound can bend spacetime. There are ripples in the perceived nature of every particle in this room because of that sound."
Emily's response made the choirs in my head sing out a full throated hallelujah.
"Ah, the Emily Fitch sexy eyebrow," I said, gently kissing the soft skin of Katie's neck. "A classic."
"Yeah, I've seen her use that on an awful lot of girls," giggled Katie.
"But it's never looked like this before. It's the light of sunrise on a festival morning, when you're still high but the cold has started to bite into your bones, and the long shadows and glowing yellow light caressing your skin let you know that soon you will be warm and everything will be alright again."
I felt the warmth of Katie's hands closing over my own, and knew that everything would soon be alright again. We watched together as Naomi's lips brushed delicately over Emily's cheek.
"What now?" asked Katie urgently.
"Peaches," I said. "The smell of a basket of fresh ripe peaches."
"It's not just light then?" she asked me.
"It's everything," I replied.
Naomi kissed Emily again, this time capturing her lips in a lingering but still chaste kiss.
"The breakdown in a fat fucking track in the club," I said, my cheek now brushing against Katie's as she tipped her head back towards mine. "When all the moving lights slow down, and the air is filled with single purple beams, and your heart is racing in anticipation because you know that any second now the beat is going to kick back in and the lights will go crazy and you'll be carried away on the collective energy of the crowd."
Once again, Emily used a single finger to trace a line across her lover's body, this time from her neck and down the valley between her breasts until she grabs at the top of Naomi's jeans and pulls the blonde towards her.
"Hot lava," I whispered to Katie. "Fiery, beautiful, deadly and ultimately unstoppable."
"That's my Ems," smiled Katie.
"And the way they look at each other? Solar flares. Violent, explosive and unpredictable. Fatal to anyone who isn't them. Anyone or anything that tries to get between them will perish in an instant."
"They don't even know we're in the fucking room any more, do they?"
"Next time they kiss, the room will fill with light, like Aurora Borealis. Wild and enchanting spectrums dancing all around us."
"You really experience it all like that?" asked Katie, turning to face me.
"You've seen Effyland. This is like the live version."
We both looked back towards them, just in time to catch that kiss. Usually Katie rolled her eyes and scoffed whenever she caught them snogging, but this time she stared at them intently, as if really trying to perceive them the way that I did.
"They really are fucking beautiful, aren't they?" she said reverently. "Do we have that? Do we make the kind of light they do?"
"Yes," I told her. "Yes we damn well fucking do."
Katie's lips met mine, and the lightstorm was almost unbearable, but in it's wake I found myself seized by an incredible euphoria.
"We should go now," I said, as the rush took hold of my heart. "They'll be shagging soon."
Katie seized me in a kiss so powerful it could shatter stars.
"So will we," she told me.