Part four of Metanoia.
mamihlapinatapai-(noun) The look shared between two people, each wishing the other would initiate something that neither is willing to offer themself.
Adrian snuggled deeper into the worn chair at Gate 16, her cold hands wrapped around a paper cup of coffee in some small effort to keep warm. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she could see a collection of planes waiting in neat lines, a few still lifting off or touching down even at the late hour. The mess of lights from the airport and the city beyond it lit up the night as bright as a lantern festival in People Park; in the distance, the San Gabriel Mountains rose against the skyline, familiar and reassuring as the magnolia in her parents' old yard. Other than the check-in attendant, who poked intermittently at her cell phone, and a couple dozing across the aisle, Adrian was alone with the woman who sat next to her.
Franziska von Karma sat curled around her own cup of coffee, her grey eyes half closed and her usual ferocity dimmed to a general aura of tension. A coiled bullwhip rested alongside a black leather purse in her lap, and a plain black suitcase lay at her feet.
Adrian yawned and rubbed at her eyes, brushing her glasses aside with one hand.
"You didn't have to come," Franziska said. She sounded far more stern than she actually was, Adrian was beginning to realize, and it brought a smile to her face.
"I know. I wanted to, though," she replied.
"A send-off for a three AM flight is a foolish thing to do," Franziska admonished without any real bite.
"I'm happy to be here regardless," Adrian said. "I'm not that sleepy, anyway."
It was true. A year ago, a single cappuccino wouldn't have been enough to even faze her, but after six months in prison, she had been weaned off her caffeine dependency, and so she felt more or less awake. That may well have had just as much to do with her excitement at seeing Franziska again, though; Franziska had a magnetic presence that made it hard for Adrian to pull back, leaving her short of breath and full of anticipation for when next they met.
Franziska snorted and shook her head, looking for all the world like an irritable horse.
"That makes one of us. Even a first-class seat doesn't make a nine hour flight enjoyable," she grumbled.
"I never minded flying, but nine hours is a little long," Adrian agreed. She had only ever done short flights, no more than four hours, traveling to New York for movie premieres and Atlanta for publicity stunts, Seattle for meetings with directors and Cincinnati for conventions. Franziska's constant international travels were a marvel to her.
"I suppose it is worth it to be home," Franziska sighed.
"Germany must be lovely this time of year," Adrian said, thinking of castles and cobblestones juxtaposed with the red-gold leaves of deciduous trees in autumn.
"It is. From the von Karma manor, you can see the Bavarian alps on a clear day, and on an overcast one, you can truly enjoy the landscape on horseback. And of course there is the architecture, if that's your sort of thing, with none of this blocky American so-called modernism. It's a wonderful place to be," Franziska replied with such pride that one might think she designed the whole country herself.
"I'll have to see it someday."
"You're welcome to come visit. Just let me know when you will be in the country," she said.
Adrian felt warmth flow through her, as if she had swallowed liquid sunshine.
"Thank you. I look forward to it," she responded, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than strictly necessary. Franziska smiled back. Even her fondest smiles seemed somewhat harsh, as if Franziska was so used to smirking in court that she couldn't manage anything else anymore. It brought warmth to her fierce eyes anyway, and Adrian hurriedly looked away for fear of staring.
They subsided into comfortable silence, listening to the rumble and whoosh of the planes outside. The wheels on someone's rolling suitcase skittered on the tile, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. In the distance, an automated voice announced that a flight was now boarding. Adrian felt oddly in tune with the universe as she stared out at the black runway and its blinking red lights, the cold making her fingers and nose ache, and she experienced a clarity she hadn't felt since the end of State v. Engarde.
She moved to rest a hand on the armrest, but her fingers brushed Franziska's. Adrian jerked back as if she had put her finger in a power outlet, her whole arm tingling, her heart quickening in her chest. She turned, an apology on her lips and heat on her cheeks. Franziska's grey eyes were wide, and she licked her lips.
"My apologies," Franziska said stiffly, and she looked to the side.
"The fault was mine," Adrian murmured, not quite able to tear her eyes from the other woman. Franziska was Victorian in profile, perfectly chiseled features and austere beauty, high in cheekbone and strong of jaw. Adrian felt as if she were tipsy, suddenly too warm and faintly dizzy.
Adrian swallowed thickly and looked away.
She was making a huge mistake, she realized as her heart hammered loud enough to pound in her ears, her breath coming short and quick. She was moving beyond just finding a friend aesthetically pleasing, and that terrified her. Franziska wasn't like her, wasn't distracted by sharply-dressed women or foolish romantic feelings. Franziska was strong and fierce and proud, and certainly didn't trouble herself with weak fools with no presence or sense of purpose. Adrian would only get herself hurt.
She couldn't bring herself to pull away. Adrian felt better than she had in years, and if it took biting back a silly crush, so be it. She could be herself without fear, diagnoses and mistakes brought into the light and found to be small and unable to hurt her. Franziska seemed more relaxed, as well, a dressage horse turned loose to pasture. Perhaps she knew Adrian didn't hold her to exacting standards of perfection or need her to fight to prove her worth.
Franziska took a sip of her coffee and sighed.
"I was initially apprehensive about coming out here, but it's been quite enjoyable. I'm glad I did," she said.
"Why were you concerned? I'm not exactly frightening," Adrian replied, perplexed.
"Certainly not, but we might have sat awkwardly for an hour over lunch, parted ways, and never looked back. I'm not in the habit of wasting anyone's time, least of all my own."
"...I guess I was a little nervous, myself. I didn't know quite what someone like you would have to say to someone like me," Adrian admitted. She smiled to soften the insecurity that threaded through her words.
"Quite a lot, evidently," Franziska said with another disarming smile. "Though you'll be back to your peace and quiet soon enough."
"It's honestly been a little lonely. Maybe I should get a cat or something."
Franziska's nose wrinkled.
"I'm not fond of cats. They're foolish animals. A good horse is much better. You must have a firm hand, but also treat the animal with respect, or else it will not listen. My Hanovarian pushes around other riders until they prove themselves. He does not tolerate fools."
"He also wouldn't fit in my apartment very well," Adrian laughed, and Franziska grinned. It took Adrian's breath away, and with it, any scraps of reason she had left. It wasn't a pleasant grin, not really, still too condescending and too harsh, but it showed approximately five thousand perfect white teeth and did horrible things to Adrian's heart.
"You'd be privileged to have him anyway. He's a wonderful creature," the other woman said. She fumbled with her phone for a moment, apparently having issue with the screen and her gloves, before bringing up a picture of a dark grey beast with a powerful neck and a chiseled head. He looked exactly like every other horse Adrian had ever seen, but she smiled and nodded along regardless.
"I'll have to meet him when I visit."
"Hmph. He would throw you to the ground in an instant," Franziska insisted.
"I may just bring him an apple, then, and leave the riding to you," she replied with a shrug. It would save her the embarrassment of clumsily fumbling at physical activity in front of Franziska, in any case.
The prosecutor looked about to speak, but her words were cut off by a tinny voice from the intercom:
"Flight 209 from Los Angeles to Munich is now boarding."
Franziska's mouth tightened at the corners.
"That's mine, I'm afraid," she said, drawing to her feet. She moved slower than usual, as if too tired to summon any sense of urgency, but she still turned and held out a hand. Adrian hesitantly took it. The leather of Franziska's glove was still warm from her coffee cup, and her grip was talon-strong as she effortlessly pulled Adrian up. It made her blush all over again.
"Thank you," she said, voice weak and shaky. Adrian stared hard, hoping to burn the image of Franziska into her retinas until her strong features would flash in a distorted rainbow against the backs of Adrian's eyelids every time she blinked.. She didn't want Franziska to go, to leave her alone again, and oh god, what if no one else would speak with her, especially with her history, what if she was stuck by herself and had to make decisions, had to push forward into the cold, dark world, alone, dreadfully alone, how could she-
Adrian tamped down her thoughts and clenched her jaw. She would be fine, she told herself. She could take care of herself. Franziska was wonderful, but Adrian didn't need her.
She prayed she would never need her.
"You have my phone number, Adrian Andrews, and my e-mail address. And I may find myself in America again soon just to keep Little Brother on his toes," Franziska replied with a nonchalance that sounded feigned to Adrian's ears. Her heart quickened.
They stood in silence for a moment, a nervous smile on Adrian's features and a severe, unreadable look on Franziska's. Hot adrenaline pumped through Adrian's veins, making her gut twist and her spine tingle, and she licked her lips. Franziska mirrored the motion, eyes strangely distant. Adrian wanted to beg her to stay, to have another coffee, if not lunch, but she bit back the words.
An impulse seized her—Adrian took a step, then slid her arms around Franziska. The other woman breathed in sharply, and she seized up like a car without oil. Adrian nearly pulled away before Franziska awkwardly patted her on the back.
"Farewell," Franziska said, voice rough.
"Bye," Adrian murmured. Franziska was so close that Adrian could feel her chest rise and fall and could smell her perfume, something woody and masculine. Her body heat raced through Adrian like snake venom, leaving her shaky and unable to draw back, her every nerve a thousand times more sensitive to the other woman's presence. The combined effect was one that made Adrian fight to catch her breath, warmth pooling in her gut and a dopey grin on her face.
She forced herself to drop her arms to the side and step back. Her head swam, and her lips were half parted.
Franziska's eyes were wide, and she licked her lips again. She turned away and snatched up her suitcase, a faint hint of red on her cheeks.
"I'll let you know when I am home," she told Adrian, not looking back at her.
"All right. I'll be sure to keep my phone on."
She spoke on autopilot, her brain so fried that she barely registered the words coming out of her own mouth.
Franziska waved goodbye over her shoulder, and Adrian stupidly lifted a hand to wave back. She stared after Franziska long after the other woman handed over her boarding pass and walked down the jet bridge. Franziska would have teased her for being so sentimental, she was sure, but the thought only made Adrian grin.
After a minute, she shook herself out of her trance, picked up their empty coffee cups, and headed for the exit. As Adrian stepped into the cool Los Angeles night, she saw a pair of blinking red lights rise into the distance, and she waved after them.
"It's only goodbye if you let it be," she said to herself with a faint smile.