Manuela stormed out of the theatre and made sure to slam the stage door shut on her way out. She was fuming. A so-called outbreak of stomach flu had descended upon the troupe, and half of her fellow actors had been excused for the day. After a few hours spent attempting to circumvent this unexpected downsizing, the director had had no other choice but to cancel today's rehearsal altogether, enjoining the few remaining members of the company to go home and above all else, come back healthy and rested the next day. Stepping into the street, Manuela looked down at her watch. Almost 5 o'clock. This meant that, if she was quick enough, she could meet Elisabeth before she left work and she hurried to the nearest subway entrance with newfound enthusiasm.
It was a bit odd, Manuela realised as she finally reached the austere building, that it was the first time she would actually step into the school where Elisabeth had been teaching for well over four years. At Manuela's repeated suggestions that she would like to see what her life at work looked like, especially considering Elisabeth never missed a chance to come see her at the theatre, the other woman usually answered that there was absolutely nothing of interest there and that it was best if she stayed clear of the school without elaborating further. Up until now, Manuela had accepted the unexpressed ban, reckoning that her presence would certainly displease quite certain people in the very conservative institution. Standing in front of the gigantic oak doors, she looked at herself and smoothed down invisible wrinkles on her trousers. Ah, yes. Maybe this would cause a few noses to turn up. Shrugging, Manuela decided she would simply have to be discreet and she stepped into the hall. Thankfully, it was empty save for a woman with grey hair sitting behind a desk in the corner who was engrossed in the newspaper splayed out in front of her and blissfully unaware of Manuela's presence. The young woman cleared her throat to catch her attention, and the secretary lifted her head slowly, the look on her face one of sheer boredom. She sighed, already exhausted at the prospect of having to engage in a conversation.
"I'm looking for Fr- for Miss von Bernburg?"
"First floor, right corridor, third door to the left," the woman enunciated before she lowered her head again, going back to reading her newspaper and to ignoring Manuela.
"Oh… Thank you, then," Manuela exhaled, relieved. "That was easy," she mumbled to herself as she rushed upstairs, two steps at a time.
It did not take long for her to spot the door to Elisabeth's class, and she paused to study the small tag where "Fräulein von Bernburg" was written in elegant calligraphy. When she knocked, she was surprised and admittedly a little embarrassed to realise how wildly her heart was hammering in her chest. She bit her lip upon hearing the faint "Come in," from behind the door and she gently pushed it open. Elisabeth was sitting at her desk, scribbling down some notes that she did not look up from even as she heard the door open. It was baffling how little the woman seemed to age. She looked now virtually the same as when Manuela had first spotted her in this staircase, back in Potsdam. Nothing had changed, from the straight shoulders, tight bun and full lips pursed together, and Manuela felt a rush of adoration combined with certain apprehension, not unlike she did whenever she stepped into Elisabeth's classroom as a student.
"Yes?" Elisabeth said absent-mindedly, still not looking up.
"May I come in, Fräulein von Bernburg?" Manuela uttered, her tone deliberately sheepish although she did feel like a schoolgirl all over again.
It seemed to do the trick, as Elisabeth's hand stopped mid-scrawl and her head shot up in surprise. Manuela noticed the frown and the extra tension in her shoulders right away.
"What are you doing here?" Elisabeth asked without humour. Her voice, too, sounded strained.
"Everyone is sick or about to be, out there. It became clear that no work would get done when we had to watch Marius vomit in his own hat mid-monologue."
"Charming," Elisabeth said, scrunching up her nose in disgust. "Are you sick, too, then?"
Manuela shrugged, and walked to the desk in a few long strides, her earlier hesitation quickly forgotten.
"I feel fine. I was furious at first, as you can imagine. The full dress rehearsal is only two weeks from now, and nothing is ready. But then, when is it ever?" she said with a smile as she brazenly sat on Elisabeth's desk. "Now… How long as it been since we've been alone in a classroom, again?"
Elisabeth opened her mouth to retort but the feeling of Manuela's lips pressed against the column of her neck rendered her momentarily speechless.
"I'm… afraid I will have to stop you right there," she finally found the strength to articulate as said lips started to make their way slightly lower.
"Really, now?" came Manuela's distracted reply in-between kisses. She did not seem to believe her in the least.
Elisabeth closed her eyes and exhaled as she leant back in her chair and away from Manuela's lips. It was almost physically painful to break away, especially when she craved Manuela's comforting touch so much, but something of greater importance was occupying her mind.
"When I came in this morning, this was waiting for me on the desk," she said, pushing a white envelope towards Manuela before she could protest.
Quite predictably, the younger woman was pouting, but she seized the letter without missing a beat. Elisabeth watched the various emotions play on her face, probably like they had on hers as she had read the note earlier. Curiosity. Incomprehension. And then, complete indignation.
"They're sacking you?" Manuela gawked, slamming the note furiously down on the table.
"I'm afraid so."
"But why? Why would they do this to you?"
"You read it yourself. They no longer require my services."
"This is ridiculous! Surely there must be something you can do about it?"
Elisabeth shook her head, her red lips pinching into a thin line.
"I was in the middle of writing to the director when you came in, but I know all too well that it will be for nothing. This is already over and done with."
Manuela seemed to think for a moment, before she threw her hands in the air in a dismissive gesture.
"Well, it's their loss. You will find another position elsewhere in no time, and they will be left sobbing when they realise their mistake."
"No, I won't. No one wants their children to learn anything about German literature these days. I knew that it could happen, but I simply feel…" Elisabeth abruptly stood up and walked to the window, turning her back to Manuela, who was behind her in a flash. On instinct, she wrapped her arms around her waist, her chin resting against her shoulder.
"Darling… This is only a means of livelihood. You will be fine…" she coaxed, trying to sound comforting. When Elisabeth turned in her arms and pushed her away with a frown however, Manuela realised she had sounded anything but.
"How dare you say that? What if you were in my situation, have you even thought of it? Would you be fine if you knew that you could possibly never act again, because of something as fundamental and unalterable as your own identity?"
Manuela had not expected the outburst and took several steps back, the sharp words hitting her like successive blows in the stomach.
"Elisabeth –I did not mean anything by…"
"I need to be alone," the other woman snapped, turning her back on Manuela with finality.
"Y-you're telling me to leave?"
"I am asking you to respect my wish to be alone for a while. I need to clear my desk and I have quite a lot of things to sort out before I leave. I will meet you at home."
Manuela considered protesting again, but the coldness in Elisabeth's tone left her stunned, and inarticulate. She walked to the door without another word, risking a final glance towards the frail and immobile silhouette standing by the window before she exited the room. Just a few moments ago, she had walked up these stairs for the first time in a frenzy of excitement, and she was now hurtling down the very same stairs for what was probably the last time, eyes burning with unshed tears and heart heavy with guilt.
Manuela jumped from the armchair she was slouched on the moment she heard the key turn in the lock. She quickly looked for the book she had let fall to the ground a long time ago, unable to register the meaningless words as she anxiously waited for Elisabeth to return. She never had been in the position of having to wait for her to come home before; it was always the other way around, Elisabeth patiently sitting in this very armchair, working or reading until Manuela came home, usually at ungodly hours. Manuela briefly wondered how her wife always managed to greet her with a loving smile, regardless of what time and state she came back. She felt emotionally drained and it had only been –she glanced at the clock– three hours. She waited for Elisabeth to reach the doorway and drew in a sharp breath when she did. Her eyes were red and empty, and her cheeks had lost their natural pink hue. She took a few hesitant steps and Manuela noticed the briefcase she was holding. It looked heavy, almost bursting at the seams and the young woman realised that once again, Elisabeth had had to figuratively squeeze her whole life into a bag and walk away from what remained of it without notice. The insensitiveness of her previous reaction to the news of her dismissal came back to her even more forcefully and she felt her chest constrict in shame.
"I made dinner," she attempted, afraid of saying something that would make the other woman cross, again. "It's still hot, if you're hungry."
Elisabeth nodded, let her briefcase fall to the ground, and burst into tears. Manuela rushed forward to take the other woman in her arms, almost expecting to be pushed away. But Elisabeth did not want her away this time. She wanted her against her, around her, within her, and she all but melted against her, burying her head in the crook of her neck. Manuela felt her own eyes well up and she did not push the tears away, instead letting them fall in silence as her sobbing wife clutched desperately at her shoulders. Such outbursts were uncommon, if not completely unthinkable from the ever-collected woman, and Manuela, in spite of her own heartache, could not help but think that the dismissal was not the only reason behind Elisabeth's distress. She decided not to press the matter yet, and simply only held the woman more tightly until she had no tears left to cry and her body felt limp in her arms. After a long while, Elisabeth finally lifted her head and turned away to avoid her gaze.
"Don't look at me, I must look appalling," she chuckled wetly.
"No you don't," Manuela whispered, taking her face gently into her hands.
"Oh love, no," Elisabeth exclaimed when she saw the wet tracks that had run down Manuela's own cheeks. "Forgive me. I should never have snapped at you this way."
In turn, she cupped Manuela's cheeks and let her thumb wipe a lone tear away.
"Don't apologise to me," Manuela said almost fiercely, setting her jaw to keep further tears at bay. "I'm the one who should ask for forgiveness. And seeing you like this is simply unbearable. I hate feeling so powerless. I wish there was something I could do or-"
"Don't," Elisabeth shushed her, pressing the pad of her thumb against her lips to stop the rambling. "I don't feel like talking about this tonight. I've had enough."
The younger woman nodded, still uncertain but willing to respect her wife's boundaries.
"Let's have dinner, then."
"I don't want dinner," Elisabeth whispered. She leant in, pressing her lips firmly against her lover's who responded in earnest almost instantly. This was yet another side of Elisabeth that Manuela rarely got to see, but one she was more than happy to explore, she pondered as teeth bit into her lower lip. Manuela gasped in surprise, breaking the kiss for a second before Elisabeth's mouth was on hers again, demanding and relentless. This sort of open eagerness was unlike her, to say the least. The younger woman was always the most assertive of both, and she was perfectly comfortable with initiating intimate moments, even at the most inappropriate times. Where Manuela was often painfully obvious and unequivocal, Elisabeth was much more subtle. She appreciated seduction and the thrill that came with being pursued, and Manuela was always glad to oblige. Under any other circumstances Elisabeth's insistence tonight probably would have scared Manuela, or at least slightly concerned her, but she was too far gone to care. If asked, she even would have admitted without shame that such considerations were the furthest thing from her mind when Elisabeth's hips were pushing urgently against hers and her soft, pliant lips were devouring hers in yearning. She suddenly felt a shiver run down her spine, and realised after a beat that it was not from the embrace –although it could as well have been- but because she simply felt cold. The contrast between the surprisingly cool air and the heated skin of her neck and chest became most noticeable, and most unpleasant, and it drew her attention long enough for her to break the embrace for the second time. Looking down, she almost choked when she realised that the reason behind the sudden chilliness was that her shirt was now unbuttoned all the way down.
"Oh?" was the only word she could utter.
"Yes," Elisabeth confirmed with an eager nod, before she claimed her lips once again and pushed the shirt from her shoulders completely. Manuela sighed against her mouth and seized Elisabeth by the waist, drawing her in with her towards the bedroom as their lips remained locked together.
"How do you feel?" Manuela's voice, still hoarse and raspy, resounded in the recently quiet room.
She felt Elisabeth chuckle in her arms before she heard her.
"Good. Exhausted. Sated," she hummed against her chest.
"Quite the achievement for a woman who has not eaten since lunchtime."
"Oh, but I have," Elisabeth said, playfully biting the underside of a breast and making Manuela laugh in return.
"I meant to ask… How do you feel about today?" the young woman asked again, suddenly quite serious.
Elisabeth stiffened against her, and Manuela made sure to tighten her hold to prevent her from turning away.
"Don't do this," she pleaded. "You always berate me for keeping my feelings bottled up. Now you're doing the same."
"And you always argue that not all emotions can be properly voiced, nor do they need to be."
"What do I know, after all? Please, Elisabeth… Darling," she pushed again, searching for the other woman's eyes in the darkness.
"I have no desire to talk or think about this. Not tonight. I just want to sleep."
Manuela sighed, knowing that there would be no progress on the matter tonight but vowing to try again in the morning. So she only lied back against the pillows and let her fingers run through Elisabeth's hair in a calming motion.
"Goodnight, then," she whispered.
"Goodnight Manuela," Elisabeth replied, closing her eyes and hoping her beloved's soft heartbeat against her ear would be enough to lull her to sleep.