Can you imagine what it would be like to be ordinary people?
THE CREAK OF LEATHER
Scene I
Quis?
Overhead lights fade from red, to blue, to purple, to red again. Speakers burst with high energy music, their porous outer shells booming with the beat seeking to escape. A thunderous and anticipatory energy hung thick in the air. Kahlan leaned her svelte form against the bar and let her blue eyes wander over the sea of club-goers. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, the ends just barely brushing against a plain black t-shirt she had paired with pinstripe black pants that clung to her in all the right places. Simple, yet effective in conveying the curves and angles of her body without revealing too much. Kahlan had come with friends, but by this point of the night they had already paired off.
An evening like this could hold any number of possibilities. She could get ridiculously drunk and end up on George's couch again. She could stay sober and be forced to corral her scattered group of drunk companions into a cab. She could meet the love of her life. Or, Kahlan could simply go home now, catch up on the book that had been sitting unloved on her nightstand for weeks, and cut her losses.
Her azuregaze scanned the horde of dancing bodies as she swirled a gin and tonic in her hand, the condensation dripping imperceptibly down her wrist. The glass was rapidly reaching room temperature, as she had been nursing it for a good chunk of the night. The drinks at the Midway were abhorrent, but the music was exceptional; not too new, not too loud, not too masculine. The perfect concoction to imbibe in with friends on the Friday night following a terrible work week.
Kahlan took another sip of her drink before setting it down behind her. It had been a long time since she had gotten this drunk. Though of terrible quality, the pours at The Midway were heavy. It was just after midnight, and the dance floor was unlikely to pick up any more than this. A few brazen men had mozied up to the bar earlier in the night, a little too tipsy for Kahlan's comfort, and bought her drinks in the false hope that she would repay them with a dance. An ice cold glare over the rim of her glass was all it took for them to make themselves scarce. For better or for worse, Kahlan Amnell had cultivated herself to be a fiercely intimidating woman. It had gotten her out of many bad situations, but it also created an antagonistic air that others shied away from stepping into. It served her well when she needed to be taken seriously by the male partners in her firm, but in casual outings among her peers, it often left her lonely by the end of the night.
It was then, while recollecting countless nights like this that were unfortunately spent alone, that her eyes picked a woman out of the crowd. She was muscular and toned in the ways that an athlete was, and yet there was something soft and supple about the way her body moved through the crowd. Her hair was short, clipped neatly just above her ears, and she wore a band t-shirt that was nearly impossible to discern any identifying details from in the club lighting. Though Kahlan doubted she would have recognized the artist even in the brightest of spaces.
The way she moved was in complete opposition from everyone around her; that was not to say she was a poor dancer, but instead that she brought to heel the space around her. The mystery woman's eyes were closed as her body pulsed to the deep music without a care in the world. Kahlan tried to look elsewhere in an effort to avoid making the woman uncomfortable, yet she was unable to tear her eyes away from the blonde dancer. Kahlan drank in the sight of her without really meaning to, but certainly did not complain when it graced her with an excellent view of the woman's toned rear.
There was something sensationally magical in the air that night because when the woman opened her eyes, she looked directly at Kahlan. Time stood still as the club around her felt as if it came to a complete stop, and Kahlan felt her entire body explode with warmth. Everything in her body was telling her to move closer to this woman, as close as she possibly could, and allow the potential of the drunken night to overwhelm her. And didn't she deserve it? After the disgustingly dreadful and drawn out work week she'd had, after all of the repugnant attentions of drunken men she had suffered earlier in the night, she had earned the opportunity to at least share the space of this beautiful mystery woman.
The blonde woman seemed to pick up on her notions, and kept her sharp green eyes trained on Kahlan as if waiting for something. Kahlan felt the warm and familiar mobility of drunkenness spur her forward without meaning to, advancing her ever closer to the woman in the crowd. She had been pulled into this bar by friends, and so she had assumed that people with her same proclivities were practically invisible here. It was too loud to speak, so instead Kahlan slid her hand onto the woman's shoulder and began to dance with her.
"I'm Kahlan," she shouted over the roaring music, and the woman leaned forward a bit. "I'm Kahlan," she said again, but the woman shook her head and tapped two fingers to her ear.
"Bad hearing," the woman shouted. "I'm Cara."
At least Kahlan knew her name. Cara. Kahlan smiled and nodded, letting Cara grind into her with the beat. She was an excellent dancer, they seemed to know exactly how to move together, electricity crackling between their bodies. Cara's hand slipped to the nape of Kahlan's neck and pulled her closer. A decidedly masculine aroma overwhelmed Kahlan's senses, the musk of Cara's cologne clinging to her palette. The aftertaste was delicious, and Kahlan found herself craving the closeness the instant she pulled away.
They danced through the next few songs. No one came for Kahlan or Cara, both utterly absorbed in each other and the perfect bubble of an indulgent Friday night they had created. Nothing before, nothing since, just now. Kahlan's breath hitched as she felt Cara's hand begin to explore her body with conviction, which she willingly allowed, and willingly reciprocated. The firm grip on her ass was distracting as Kahlan tried to duplicate the act on her partner, nearly fumbling. Something about this handsome stranger left her flustered and unsure, and she was unused to the faltering of her normally unshakeable confidence. Cara spun around, bringing her generous bottom to meet Kahlan's front, moving in time with the music as Kahlan's fingertips firmly but gently gripped her hips.
Spirits, she had an excellent ass.
As they danced, Kahlan became aware of a familiar warmth building in her core, and she knew if she searched for it, she would find clear evidence of arousal lining her silk lingerie. A thrill settled in her stomach as she imagined the dangerous and delectable ways this night with Cara would proceed.
"Are you from the city?" Kahlan asked, and she caught the scent of Cara's hair as the blonde whipped her head around.
"What?"
"Are you from New York?" Kahlan said again, louder. Cara shook her head.
"No."
An excellent conversationalist, this woman was.
"Me neither, I moved here for work," Kahlan continued, but Cara just nodded and kept dancing. "Do you come here often, I've never seen—"
Her sentence was halted by a firm grip on her chin as Cara pulled Kahlan into a sultry kiss, full lips forming against her own in a way that sent a shock up her spine. Kahlan had no choice but to melt into the feeling of lips and tongue pressing so deliciously and intentionally against her own. It was exhilarating, the feeling of being desired, the feeling of her body being explored and sought after by another. If there were any eyes on them, Kahlan was completely oblivious, too taken up in the feeling of Cara to notice or mind.
"If you want to dance, then dance. If you want to go on a date, take me elsewhere," Cara shouted rather loudly, even though she was mere inches from Kahlan's face. Offended at her boldness, Kahlan pulled back a bit. Cara did not seem to pick up on her curt tone, but instead opted to keep dancing while Kahlan scoffed and pushed her way back into the crowd.
What was she thinking, approaching a woman like Cara? It was obviously a mistake, one Kahlan should have seen from a mile away. She should have planned better, and she certainly shouldn't have danced with someone who was so clearly and ardently content to be a lone wolf. Kahlan retreated back to the bar and sat on one of the stools to search the crowd for her friends. Her eyes kept finding Cara, but her friends were nowhere to be seen. They did not have a plan to go to any other bars, so it seemed that they had forgotten about Kahlan in the midst of their own drunken revelry. Kahlan sighed, irritated. It was then that she noticed the approach of Cara, who had now grown tired of dancing in the absence of her newfound partner and circled back to the bar. She stood right beside Kahlan as if nothing had happened.
"Two shots of vodka," Cara said, holding up two fingers to the bartender. "Don't bother with the cheap shit, especially if you're charging me that much," she corrected, much to the bartender's chagrin.
"Two shots?" Kahlan shot back in a snarky tone, the ice in her eyes holding Cara hostage for a moment.
"Huh?" Cara said, and Kahlan rolled her eyes.
"Two shots, just for you?" Kahlan repeated, louder. Sarcasm never felt quite as satisfying the second time around. Wordlessly, Cara slid one of the shots across the lacquered surface of the bar toward her.
"Cheers." Cara tipped the shot glass to Kahlan before downing it without a moment's hesitation. Kahlan pursed her lips in agitation and did not bother to take hers, perplexed by Cara's behavior and what the manner of Cara's game could be. Noticing that Kahlan had ignored the shot waiting for her on the bar, Cara shrugged and downed it just as quickly and effortlessly as the first, as if it were water. Brows furrowing, she tilted her head to look at Kahlan with insistent green eyes. "What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" Kahlan shouted, uncaring of the other patrons sitting to either side of them. "I'm not here for a quick fuck."
"Neither am I," Cara said, searching Kahlan's face for an answer. "I meant what I said. If you want to dance, then dance. If you want to talk, let's go somewhere else. Unless you are particularly tied to this terrible bar that hasn't seen decent booze since prohibition."
Kahlan was wordless for a moment. Cara's bluntness appeared to be genuine, rather than rude, and Kahlan was unused to such unshrouded honesty. She gathered herself and took a moment to reply, standing and facing Cara with a near indignance.
"All right, then take us somewhere better."
Cara nodded, threw a meager tip on the counter, and turned to walk away. Though Kahlan did not hear her say a word or make a gesture, everything in Cara's body language commanded Kahlan to follow. Cara was captivating in a way Kahlan had rarely seen in person; perhaps it was the lack of talking, but there was a certain edge to her, a promise of something just underneath the surface, that tempted Kahlan to abandon all the other possibilities of this night in favor of Cara.
A quietness and a light breeze greeted them as they exited the loud club, the residual warmth of the summer day still floating off the asphalt, even at this hour. The night air was thick and held them close, the songs of insects and chirping rising from the bushes. The city was still awake, as it always was. In the dim glow of the occasional streetlamp, Kahlan could now get a good look at Cara.. She was even more stunning upon closer regard, an unusual feat especially among the women one tends to meet in nightclubs. There was a distinct sharpness to her features, and yet a softness in her cheeks and lips that pulled Kahlan in, reminding her of the addictive kiss they had shared in the club. If it weren't for Cara's quick pace, she would not have been able to resist pulling her in for another kiss. Instead, Kahlan followed a few steps behind Cara as they wordlessly moved through the city streets and down a poorly marked alley that Kahlan would have avoided in normal circumstances.
"I've never been here before," Kahlan told her, and Cara looked back for a moment.
"You'll see why," Cara posited without any further explanation. She walked along the cobblestone street until they came upon a black door emblazoned with the name 'The Shadrin'. Cara knocked, and the door opened in answer.
"Hey baby," a heavyset woman with butterfly locs arranged in two neat buns on either side of her head smiled, giving Cara a friendly kiss on either cheek. "Who's this?"
"Kay…" Cara trailed off, not remembering what little snippet of the woman's name she had heard. Thankfully, Kahlan leaned forward over Cara's shoulder and interjected.
"Kahlan," she introduced herself, smiling cautiously at the woman.
"Nice to meet you, Kahlan. Cara never brings anyone with her," the woman said pointedly, smiling mirthfully and stepping back to allow Cara and Kahlan to pass through. "Drinks are half off for the next ten minutes, get what you can," the woman called after them, but Cara seemed not to hear. The beginnings of a familiar soreness in her temples told Kahlan she was at her limit with drinking for the night, so perhaps it was best that Cara didn't hear.
Cara smoothly sat herself down on a leather stool, her muscles tensing underneath her shirt in a way that was entrancing. It was as if Kahlan could see every sinew and tendon move. The small bar was packed with women of all different shapes and sizes. In fact, there were exclusively women there. It did not occur to Kahlan what sort of bar Cara had taken her to until she noticed the decorations above the bar: a rainbow flag and a well loved-poster sporting the words 'Lavender Menace,' the slightly yellowed paper folded many times down the middle with softened edges.
"This is a nice place. Cozy," Kahlan said, and Cara nodded.
"I come here often, it's one of the best lesbian bars in this part of the city. Mostly because only the gold star lesbians come," Cara told her, the bartender coming over with a drink already prepared for the blonde. Kahlan thought to ask if Cara was serious, but the slight, upward curve of the blonde's lips betrayed her teasing. "Do you want anything?"
"No, I'm fine," Kahlan dismissed with a shake of her head. Cara nodded and took a long swig from her dark beer. Kahlan could not help but let her eyes drift to Cara's lips as they pressed against the opening of the beer bottle. "I don't go to lesbian bars often."
"Are you straight?" Cara asked, lifting an eyebrow. Perhaps she had chosen incorrectly, an error of computation. She thought that she had put all the pieces of Kahlan together, her aloofness towards the men who approached her, the ease in which she fell into Cara, and assumed that they shared a similar interest. Kahlan shook her head vigorously, dispelling any doubts.
"I'm offended that you just asked that. I'm gay. I just don't have any lesbian friends, and I hate going anywhere alone," Kahlan admitted. "Do straight girls dance with you like that?"
"Straight girls do a lot of things for attention," Cara told her, taking another long drink. Kahlan nodded, knowing that tale all too well. Her eyes flitted to Cara's hardened jaw, accentuated by her hyper-masculine haircut- , long on the top, short on the sides. Her shirt was rolled up to show her biceps, and it was clear they were the product of patient time and effort. It was as if every part of her were cultivated to shout "I fuck women". And it was this brashness, her butchness, that was shooting straight to Kahlan's core.
"What's on your t-shirt?" Kahlan asked, hoping it was not evident that she could think of nothing else but Cara's hard body pressing her into a wall, and Cara looked down as if she had forgotten what she was wearing.
"Shota and the Screamers," Cara told her, not elaborating. She's lucky she was so damn beautiful, Kahlan wondered if anyone would suffer her company otherwise.
"What kind of music do they play?" Kahlan asked, her fingers drumming on the oak bar.
"Punk," the blonde answered simply, finishing her beer with a flourish as if they hadn't just sat down minutes prior. Kahlan was unsure if Cara wanted to talk or just wanted to drink, but she was a little too drunk to care.
"You're really telling me your whole life story, here. If you don't slow down, we'll be married within the hour," Kahlan teased in a straight deadpan, pressing Cara to open up a bit more. Cara did not get the hint, however, and slid the brown, empty beer bottle to the edge of the bar.
"I could do that, or I could invite you back to my place," Cara offered, holding Kahlan's gaze with an unwavering intensity, and Kahlan felt her heart beat three times faster. Cara's unrelenting candor was a refreshing change from the constant game that Kahlan often played with other women.
Cara's apartment was in a part of town where every other streetlight seemed to be either flickering or dead and people sat on their stoops in the dead of night and smoked, watching the pair of beautiful women walk past. Kahlan did not often find herself in the rougher parts of the city and found herself standing closer to Cara, just in case. A scrawny man in cargo shorts tried to catcall them, but Cara simply flipped him off and he rolled his eyes, as if it was a game they often played.
"This is me," Cara said, sliding her key into an old, red door with chipped paint and a small, diamond shaped window cutout toward the top. She pushed open the door to reveal a small but clean apartment. It was a studio, so everything that Cara owned was on display. A large, black chest sat on the foot of her bed, a few reproduced classic art pieces adorned the walls near the queen sized bed that she had somehow managed to fit into the room without it overbearing the small space. The hardwood floors were bare save for one rectangular carpet, which seemed to match nothing else. Cara tossed her keys into a small dish atop a wooden nightstand near the door and opened a small cigar box to reveal a few incense sticks, which she fitted into a holder and lit. The warm smoke curled graceful patterns into the air and filled the room with a sweet, oaky smell.
"The Lady of Shalott?" Kahlan inquired, pointing to the painting of a woman sailing downriver in a boat. "It's one of my favorites."
"It was a gift," Cara told her, snaking her hands around Kahlan's waist and resting her chin on the other woman's shoulder. Kahlan could feel her strong jaw move against her skin as Cara continued. "I researched the poem for a project in high school, it became more interesting to me than I anticipated."
"What draws you to it?"
"The idea that she is killed for her desire. She spends all that time locked in that tower, denying herself, and it gets her nowhere. Something about that screams gay to me. Why, are you a writer or something?" Cara asked, and Kahlan turned around and kissed her.
"I thought you were more interested in fucking me than in making small talk," Kahlan whispered and Cara's hands grasped a handful of Kahlan's shirt at the suggestion.
"What makes you think I'm going to fuck you?" Cara asked smoothly, taking Kahlan firmly by the shirt and backing her onto the bed. Her green eyes, formerly dimmed by the alcohol, were now lucid with pure want. Kahlan slid her hands around to squeeze Cara's ass and bring her onto her lap.
"Everything about you," Kahlan murmured, tilting forward to catch Cara's lips with her own. When their skin met, it felt like coming home. Cara did not yield, instead demanding that Kahlan acquiesce to her unyielding 's tongue was in her mouth before she could question it, and the way her tongue moved had Kahlan clenching at the thought of what that tongue could do somewhere else. A small whine of pleasure left her as they parted briefly, and she laid back on the bed, Cara atop her, as she pulled off her blouse and lazily dropped it off the side.
Cara wasted no time in pulling off Kahlan's jeans, not bothering to take them off her ankles, taking a mere moment to meet Kahlan's blue eyes with her own emerald gaze before diving headfirst into Kahlan's wet cunt that had been waiting patiently for attention nearly all night long. Kahlan closed her eyes and let out a low moan as Cara hit the coveted spot with the flat of her tongue, all of Kahlan's sense of feeling and direction going straight to her clit. Kahlan wrapped her fingers in the short length of Cara's hair and held her there, though Cara was unrelenting in her endeavor regardless. Her tongue flicked gently at Kahlan's swollen clit and she looked up at the beautiful woman coming undone before her.
Kahlan's breasts heaved with every breath, her dark hair cascading down to frame her chest while becoming more and more unkempt towards the top. Delicate black lace framed the hills of her breasts in an absolutely appetizing way and Cara was torn on whether her tits would look better with or without let Kahlan's eyes meet hers in a delicious moment before slowly plunging two fingers into Kahlan's pussy, taking a moment to swipe the surrounding wetness through her folds in a way that made Kahlan squirm. The raven-haired woman gasped and dropped back down onto the bed, feeling herself edging closer and closer to that beautiful, tall precipice.
"Harder," Kahlan whined, and Cara smirked but obeyed for now, pressing her fingers deeper into Kahlan to elicit longer, and deeper moans. Kahlan's moans became quieter as she got closer to her peak, her mouth hanging open in wordless pleasure as her brow furrowed in body arched into her lover's touch, and Cara's other hand roamed the expanse of her stomach, sneakily sliding up into the cup of her bra to tease a pert nipple. That was all it took for Kahlan to fall over the edge, coming hard with her legs still atop Cara's shoulders. She bucked against Cara's face but the woman did not back away or pause her attention, and although it was agonizing to still be teased after coming for that long, Kahlan settled and allowed her to continue. Cara took her time in slowing down, waiting until Kahlan let out a content sigh and a final shudder to come back up for air. The blonde wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a large and self-satisfied smirk appearing where Kahlan's wetness once was.
"Do you want me to—" Kahlan began, still breathless, sitting up and coming to pull Cara onto the bed with her.
"No," Cara interrupted quickly, shaking her head. Kahlan was surprised and bit her bottom lip in disappointment, propping herself up with one elbow on the bed.
"Are you sure?" Kahlan asked again, never one to leave a favor without giving one in return.
"Yes," Cara told her, with a stern tone which definitively ended the line of questioning. Kahlan nodded, admittedly feeling defeated. Cara gave her a satisfied smile, peeled off her clothes, and slid into bed beside her. She wrapped the thin, green sheet around them as the cool, night air blew in from the window beside them. Kahlan grinned and kissed Cara again, wrapping her arms around the other woman and lazily running the tips of her nails across the brawn of Cara's shoulders and drifting off to sleep.
—
Cara was already dressed and awake when Kahlan woke up the following morning. Her head ached as she groaned and rolled over, trapping herself in more of the sheet than she intended to. Her skin was warm as she dragged a hand through her dark mess of hair that had been more than sufficiently mussed from last night's activities. Cara was in the kitchen with her back to Kahlan, sporting a red blouse and a black pencil skirt. Sitting in the corner near her as if in time out were a pair of black pumps.
"What time is it?" Kahlan asked in a low voice, still waking up. Cara turned around and checked her watch.
"Six a.m.," she noted, stirring a bowl of steel cut oats with a small, metal spoon. "Would you like breakfast? I made oatmeal."
"Yes, thank you," Kahlan nodded, smiling a bit at the gesture. "Last night was wonderful."
Cara looked back at her, the curve of her lips betraying her pride. "It was. Will I see you again?"
"If you talk more, yes," Kahlan told her. "I hardly know anything about you."
"There isn't much to know," Cara admitted, bringing the bowl to Kahlan. It was simple, just oatmeal, no flavorings or toppings to embellish the taste or visuals. It did occur to her, however, that Cara had made breakfast just for her, so despite knowing the flavorless gruel that was awaiting her, she gratefully accepted the bowl with a smile.
"What about her?" Kahlan asked, picking up a framed photo from the nightstand. It was of Cara in small, red boxing shorts with her hands taped up. Blood was streaming down from the corner of her mouth, sweat highlighting every curve and dip of her muscular body, but her arm was held up high in what appeared to be a triumphant moment.
"I used to be a professional fighter," Cara smirked, taking the picture from Kahlan's hand. "I was good, too."
"Used to?" Kahlan prompted.
"A fight didn't go my way," Cara said, tugging on her left ear. "I lost my hearing in this ear and after that, I wasn't sharp enough to win." Kahlan hissed through her teeth in an effort to acknowledge the pain, her hand instinctively going to slide her finger under the shell of Cara's ear. She didn't miss the way that Cara leaned into the gentle touch before she continued. "I loved it though, the fighting. I could have done more, but by that time my season of success had already withered."
Kahlan rolled her lips together and looked at the picture again. It was the image of a hardened woman, not unlike the Cara that sat beside her now. Although they had only met last night, pieces of the puzzle were beginning to reveal themselves. Perhaps there was a lot more to Cara than met the eye.
"I should be heading out," Cara said, taking her hand to the back of Kahlan's head and kissing her deeply and warmly. It was a soft and genuine kiss, different from the desperate lustful ones they had shared last night. Kahlan ignored the slight tug in her chest and instead attributed the warmth gathering in her stomach to the more familiar, more safe feeling of carnal desire. "You're free to stay as long as you'd like, just lock the door behind you," Cara said, getting one last look at Kahlan before getting up, slipping into her pumps, and heading out the door. Kahlan could not take her eyes off the blonde until the door shut behind her, finally breaking her line of sight. With a sigh of satisfaction, Kahlan fell back onto the bed and inhaled the smell of Cara, now intoxicatingly mixed with her own.