Alison huffed, dropping the box of books on the floor. It was the fifth box that she had been forced to rise from the depot and now she would have to place all its content wherever it has to be placed… again. Hadn't they prepared the store on Sunday for the whole freaking week?
It was Wednesday, about 12 pm and she was exhausted. There were customers hovering between shelves, the artificial light emitted by the fluorescents didn't let her pupils to relax and the calefaction they had begun to turn on the previous day was overwhelming her.
The blonde had thought that the first day, that Monday that had dawned rainy, would be the worst, but it really turned out to be the quietest. Even with the little time she had spent in the city, the girl had come to the conclusion that Paris was a rainy place, so its inhabitants should be used to the occasional drops dotting its streets day in and day out, but the fact that the winter was starting to make an appearance made a blanket and a couch overcome the smell of new books, so it seemed understandable that she hadn't had to attend more than four people in her first day of work with "public". And thanks to that she had taken the benefit of John and his "computer skills" when the boy taught her how the records worked, but rather than that she let him speak about codes and passwords as she took visual and mental notes about the buttons he was pushing, computers weren't exactly her thing.
On Tuesday she had a little more action. She was surprised that, almost always, someone was pacing the place. She had thought that an English bookstore in Paris would have a very little output, but if the store had reached the dimensions it had now it would be because of something.
Alison crouched and broke with scissors the adhesive that kept the box closed. They were novelties, at least she wouldn't have to be looking for shelves by genre, the girl could put them all in one of the main tables. She picked up a few books and rose, feeling how her back creaked, she would end up with an injury if they kept exploiting her like that.
- Are you really gonna keep ignoring me?
The blonde turned and saw a girl with blonder hair than hers, darker skin than hers and lighter eyes than her, speaking to the back of a guy who was standing in a ladder, looking for some book on one of the higher shelves. They both were wearing the same vest than her.
- Oh… Bruce, really, you're like a child. – Ann crossed her arms, seemingly annoyed, but she didn't move off the spot where she was standing neither she took off that look of "slain lamb" she wore everywhere.
The boy didn't answer, he simply read the spines of the books in front of him, title by title.
Alison rolled her eyes, what a pair.
The blonde didn't know how they had been before she came, but now Ann had become the shadow of Bruce and she had been chasing him around the store every single minute they had spent there. Didn't she realize how pathetic she looked?
They were like one of those couples on the magazines, perfect, and nobody could deny that. Physically they seemed made for each other, both tanned, with light hair and eyes, both with bodies to die for… but they were a total nightmare!
Alison began placing books, trying to ignore them, she get nervous when she watched how Ann crawled for him. Whatever it was that she had done it was already done, and it didn't seem to have a solution so, why would she humiliate herself like that? She would never stoop to that level, ever.
"You would, for Emily", her subconscious slipped and she remained paralyzed, with a book in a hand, staring at it without seeing it… because she knew she would, for Emily.
It hadn't been long since she had begun to be honest with herself, so she still froze when such thoughts assaulted her. She had spent years pretending, faking ideas, forcing herself to be and act in a certain way. But now that she was there, oblivious to the deadly drama that her life had become, it was way much easier to recognize some things.
And yes, if she was about to lose Emily, she would do anything for it to not happen.
Before, she would never have acknowledged something like that, not even in her own mind, because before she wouldn't have allowed herself to feel for anyone what she was allowing herself to feel for the brunette.
It was still difficult… not the fact of being with her, but rather the idea that she could be with her, if she wanted, Emily was there, and she could be with her. And she wanted, for the first time in her life she was sure that it was what she wanted.
She cared about her, and that was good, it wasn't something that would make her weak though… it could hurt… so, in a way, it was risky. Wanting her, needing her… it was awfully painful to think that, at some point, Emily could decide to go home and leave her alone.
When had it happened? When had she fallen for her? It was something she didn't know, but at least she understood it, more or less.
She smiled, ruefully. It was incredible.
Emily Fields had climbed on a plane, accompanied her to that country and now was sleeping in a hotel, in a bed they shared in a hotel. How could that have happened? After all she had put her through… Because the chaos that had filled the days of the brunette was due, mainly, to her. She was the source of all that mess, the reason that her world had turned completely upside down, the cause of all the darkness and danger that had surrounded her and yet…
Alison had never thought that someone could love her enough to give everything up for her. And she felt selfish and a little thief, as if she were taking away from her that quiet and normal future she deserved.
"Maybe she doesn't want that quiet and normal future, maybe she…"
- Eh! – She complained, when someone hit her, and she was about to apologize, thinking it would be a customer, but the blonde only tightened her jaw when she saw who it was.
- Sorry. – Kevin whispered, lightly running a duster over the table she was refilling and continuing his slow walk, looking for another surface to "clean up".
Alison took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. The guy had been doing just that all day long. He was with the music on full blast, with his fringe covering his eyes and that very parsimonious walk that made her sick. Could he do that having customers in the store? She felt how certain words fit into her mind and formed sentences, hurtful phrases that she was dying to throw on him with that condescending tone she was so used to using. Because Kevin was a freak. With that pale skin that seemed to not have seen the sun in ages, the black nail polish, the chain dangling from his baggy jeans… but she didn't say anything. She took the last set of books from the box and kept placing volumes. It was all about self-control and a change in the way of seeing the world. She could make it, she could be different, she could…
- Well, well, well… here you are. – She looked up and saw Charlie, who was watching her with his usual smirk. – I thought you had to be in the Classics section. - He said, crossing his arms.
"Breathe, you just have to breathe and count to 10", she said mentally, she would have to learn meditation or something like that because the girl felt her blood boiling every time she saw that jerk, and she would have to see him every day.
- You asked me to go for that box. – Alison said, pointing to the carton box that sat next to her. – And then you told me to place the books inside of it.
- Yeah, but you don't need the whole day for that blondie, don't you think? Besides… - He stepped aside, letting her see the Classics section. – There are a couple of very lost customers who need your help.
Alison clung tightly the book she was still holding in her hands. Indeed, there were a couple of very lost customers who needed her help… customers who, in her opinion, should be at home, well clothed, drinking tea or playing bingo, or whatever grandmas would do on a Wednesday morning.
Then a memory came to her mind: two old men, getting into the store very early, looking for a book that had been out-of-print, demanding her attention for more than thirty minutes, staring at her in the most inappropriate way.
"I can't do this", she complained internally.
She had been attending seniors since the day had begun and she felt a little less alive every time she thought about the atmosphere of lacquer that would enfold those ladies and that odd obsession that all people over 60 years seemed to share of caught her arm as she guided them to wherever the books they were looking for rested.
She didn't like old people, she had never liked them and she will never like them.
- Come on girl, don't make that face, just think that if it wasn't for them you wouldn't be able to eat. – Charlie told her and in an instant his gaze was distracted by a brunette that was walking near them. – So go and help them! Before they leave because of our lack of hospitality, I… I'll take care of my section.
She saw how he attacked the poor girl and her tolerance brushed dangerously its limits.
She hated him, so much. And to think that she had been there for only three days…
Alison turned and saw one of the ladies, short, stooped, with huge glasses, calling her attention with her trembling hands. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to show her best smile, she just had to stay there for a couple more hours, at three she could leave, yes, she just had to concentrate on that, if she focused on that idea everything would be fine.
- So, you hadn't been here for too long. – Emily shook her head as she folded a napkin carefully, matching its top corners. – Where do you come from?
- Los Angeles. – The brunette answered and she saw as Chloe looked at her with enthusiasm.
- I've always wanted to go to Los Angeles.
They only had twenty minutes left to complete the tables and get the room ready for the night, before they went down to the kitchens. This time Emily had come prepared, with a notebook and a pen (both provided by Chloe). After almost a week in there she seemed to be starting to get used to the place.
The beginning of the week had been a little chaotic. Chloe had become her "instructor" and she had been giving her advice about everything, introducing her to everybody, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. It was like being the new kid in the final year of high school: you don't know anyone but everyone knows each other.
And for the brunette, the scariest moment remained being the presentation of the menu, because she didn't understand a word of French. Although it was true that they used to follow a pattern while naming the ingredients and Chloe had presented her a couple of scullions that spent the nights fighting over her attention, trying to make her understand what the chefs said hastily... even with all that help she felt completely out of place.
It was Friday and they had warned her that the restaurant tended to get saturated towards the weekend, but by that time the place was still quiet, the people didn't seem more nervous than usual, though… Chloe was starting to loosen when she was around her, perhaps a little too much.
- And you have come here alone? – They were basic questions that everybody would do to someone at the beginning of a friendship, in the first days, in an attempt to know the other person, but Chloe was condensing all of them in one single night, surely trying to regain all the "lost time" that the hustle of the previous days had caused.
Emily wanted to assume that it was just the novelty of having her as a rookie, but her companion was definitely a lover of the spoken word. The brunette already knew that it had been six years since she had arrived to Paris, with her parents, but that they were no longer living with her, they had returned to San Francisco a couple of years ago, where the girl had been born 22 years ago. She knew Paris like the back of her hand, and the girl had gone through all imaginable works: cleaner, stocker, seamstress, monitor and countless more. Until she was hired at La cuisine du le monde, where she established. As she was telling, she wasn't good at keeping jobs. Before she had been anchored to the restaurant for 3 years in a row, the most she had lasted in one place had been two months. She had a small one-room flat on a street nearby and shared it with a gray cat with heterochromia. She considered herself as someone independent, and after failing her attempt in the science area, she was determined to graduate in one of the best culinary schools in France… someday.
- No, I didn't come alone. – Emily replied briefly and the other girl raised an eyebrow of interest. – I'm with my girlfriend.
She felt a stir in her stomach when she said it. Drowsy butterflies that came to life whenever she thought about Alison. And it was the first time she had told anyone that she was with her, that they were a couple. And… well, it didn't make any sense to deny it, it was also the first time she didn't mind at all to state that she was dating a girl in front of someone. She hadn't been hidden in Rosewood, but she knew that she wouldn't have said it to that neighbor who had always lived in front of her house, for whatever reason, it wasn't the same.
Chloe smiled at her.
- That's really romantic. – She said and Emily blushed. It seemed impossible but, until then, it hadn't occurred to her to think in that way about the situation. The two had escaped to live together, in Paris, was there anything more romantic than that? – Have you been together for a long time?
- Well… we were friends for many years and at the end…
- One thing led to another and you ended up dating. – Concluded Chloe, assuming that they had suffered the "standard" transition friendship-love.
- Yes, it wasn't… it wasn't that easy but yes, something like that happened. – It had been infinitely more difficult, but she wouldn't give any details, actually… she even doubted if it was okay for her to speak about Alison with that girl, after all, she only knew her since, what? six days ago? Although… with all she had told her about herself it was as if the brunette knew her for a lifetime.
- What's her name?
- Estella. – She said without hesitation, but feeling that pull on the chest that a lie can cause.
- Like that Dickens's character, in Great Expectations. – Emily nodded slowly, tensing because of the instantaneous recognition. – I cried so much with that story… I hope your Estella isn't as complicated as his.
- She has her days. – The brunette simply said and the other girl laughed.
Suddenly, a shiver ran down her back and the brunette turned, with that very disturbing feeling that assails you when you suspect someone is watching you. The room was nearly empty, most of her companions had gone down to the kitchen, there were only a couple of Germans and them. Nobody was looking at her… it must be one of those reflexes she had developed unintentionally.
She couldn't help but pass her sight by the large mirror that filled the opposite wall. Knowing the type of room that it hid and just imagining what could be its mission took away all the majesty and sophistication that it could have… that great piece of glass only managed to give her the creeps. Would anyone be on the other side at that precise moment?
- It's nice that you can share this city with someone you love. – Chloe said, regaining her attention. – I'm on my own.
Well, now it was the turn for her love life, the brunette had found a little weird that she had skipped it before.
- But you know what? I feel better than ever. – Okay, that was not exactly what she had expected. – I was with the same guy for five years and it turned out that he only saw me as a "sister".
- After five years? – Emily asked, shocked.
- Yeah, I also thought he was a depraved. – The two laughed. – I won't say that it didn't hurt, but I'd come to the conclusion that it was better that way. I have enough with myself… what bothers me is that it took him so long to tell me.
She kept talking, telling anecdotes of that relationship, apparently happy, without any rancor, she didn't even insult the guy once. Emily hadn't lasted so long with anyone, so she really couldn't judge, but she had been in love for years with the same person, and if Alison would have rejected her, if she would have said to her face that she was an aberration, that she would never feel anything for her... she would have been completely shattered, broken, unable to recover.
When you love someone the way she loved the blonde, you become simple background, and you lose control of your body and your emotions.
Everything she does affects you. When she smiles at you, when she gets angry with you, when she makes fun of you… everything is enormously magnified and you feel weak and powerless. You know that you're at her mercy and that she is aware of the influence she has over you, she knows that she can do whatever she wants with you.
That was one of the main reasons why she had never dared to confess her feelings to her, and it was also why she still doubted her gestures and the motives behind those gestures. Because of pure and inescapable fear.
Since they had come to Paris, since they had decided to be together, officially, there hadn't been a second that Emily hadn't expected a change in the blonde's attitude. She was waiting the peak of her eyebrows, her smirk and that sharp look that would reduce her to rubble. She dreaded words that would sink her, forever.
But none of that was happening. Alison was sweeter than ever. Every time she saw her she tried to touch her, in any way, even if it was only brushing against one of her arms or caressing one of her dark locks, and she was looking at her fondly, and she was kissing her lips, again and again. In those moments, when everything felt so real, she was able to forget her fears while allowing herself to get carried away. But as soon as she was alone, her thoughts turned dark and every instant she spent with her was stained with questions and concerns that twisted her gut.
- Natalie? – She went out of her mind and focused her vision, which had been lost in the cloth in front of her, on the face of Chloe, who looked at her with a hint of worry. – Are you okay? You've been like… in a trance.
- Yeah, yeah… I'm fine. – She smiled and placed the last plate on the last table.
- All right… we should go down to the kitchens. – She said, looking around, making sure everything was in place.
Emily sighed and tried to clear her mind, it would be a tough night. She needed to stay focused and confident, completely aware of herself.
Night wind crashed against the window's glass, making it shiver. The light from the lamp hanging over the bed illuminated the room, each day darker, losing power. And Emily held the keys of the hotel room in one hand as the other was still wrapping the doorknob, watching silently how Alison was lying face down on the mattress, where she found her every night, writing something on a sheet of paper, nibbling the pen cap.
- Maybe you should have taken a job before. – The brunette said, causing the girl to jump. – I think I'm seeing you study more than ever. Seriously, Mr. Fillis would be proud.
- Hello to you too. – The blonde wrinkled her face at the mention of that history teacher they both had a long time ago, the one she hated so badly… what a greeting.
Emily suppressed a laugh and closed the door, entering the room. It was becoming a habit.
When the small hand of the clock resting on the blonde's nightstand approached the number eleven, followed closely by its larger partner, the brunette returned to their new small home, still active because of the adrenaline that the restaurant fuelled into her veins. And Alison was always waiting for her in the bed, sitting, lying or even standing, surrounded by papers, wearing her pajamas, absorbed in some concept. It was oddly comic that she surprised her each night with her appearance, as if the blonde was able of block everything out and forget that the other girl would come back at some point. She was taking very seriously that of "doing things right" and the two seemed to be creating a routine.
Once inside the room, the brunette took off her bag, hung the jacket she was wearing and came closer to the blonde.
- Hi. – Emily said, bending down to kiss her cheek. But then Alison turned her face slightly and the brunette found herself inches away from her lips.
For many routines they'll set up, Emily didn't know if she would ever get used to see the girl and greet her with the brush of her mouth. Probably she would never be able to remove that turnaround her heart suffered when she ended so close to her and got lost in the intensity of her gaze, the one that challenged her to make the first move.
She gathered their lips, gently, and felt like she slipped a subtle sigh.
At the end of that brief kiss she allowed herself to connect their pupils. Alison let the corners of her mouth rise a little more.
It was so beautiful to look at her like that after kissing, and to feel how warm blood accumulated on her cheeks when she smiled at her so openly.
It was so beautiful to see happiness shining in the blue of her eyes.
She… she was so, so beautiful.
How would she doubt anything at that time? How would she think that she didn't care about her? How could that be a lie, a delusion? It wasn't possible… nobody could pretend something like that, right?
- By the way, - The blonde began, still looking into her eyes. – I wasn't studying, I was doing numbers.
- Numbers. – Emily repeated, confused. She sat beside her and saw a calculator by her right side (where did she get that?) and that, indeed, all the papers around her were full of numbers.
- Yes, I've been trying to figure out when we can get out of this dump. – She sought between the sheets of paper and showed her one. – Considering what we'll be paid and what we still have in reserve, we'll have four months more in here. – Emily's eyes bulged. – But… - Alison turned the paper, showing underlined results that seemed important. – If we go carefully with the food, laundry and all that stuff, we could start looking for a flat in two months.
The brunette inhaled slowly. The food wouldn't be a big problem, she took whatever she found for lunch on her way to work, she also had the dinner covered, at the restaurant, and the blonde seemed to have pretty controlled that matter too. The laundry they had found at the end of the street was quite cheap and they were doing their best to concentrate enough clothes to really take advantage of the washings, but… what if something happened? What if they had an accident or if… I don't know, they'll lose the reserves that the blonde kept in the inside of the lining of her suitcase?
Two months… and November was about to begin, that meant…
- We'll spend Christmas in here. – Emily concluded quietly, deflating her lungs. It was bad enough to spend those holidays away from home, but if she had to do it in that hovel…
- I know it's an important date for you, but it would be impossible to get something before that time. I didn't want you to have high expectations. – The blonde said, resting her chin on her right shoulder. – Besides… have you signed a contract?
- No. – The brunette had already thought about that, but as they were there illegally she didn't know whether it would be appropriate to sign anything.
- Me neither. I'll talk to Charlie and I'll force him to give it to me, I think I'll do it on Sunday, in case I have to yell at him. – She said, improvising the last sentence on the fly, saying it more to herself.
- It may be better to not have a contract.
- Em, if we don't have a contract they'll can kick us out whenever they want, without paying us. – Alison pulled away to face her. – They'll say it was just a test and that we didn't do well enough.
- I don't know if I can talk about it or… anything with my boss. – The brunette said, starting to unbutton her boots. – She makes me very nervous, today she's been all day behind me.
It had been creepy. Every time she turned around to go and attend a table Nicolette was there, watching her, arms crossed and petrified expression, more serious than ever. Chloe told her not to worry, it surely wouldn't be nothing but, that was impossible to ignore!
- Do I have to be worried? – Alison asked her, rising an eyebrow and pursing her lips. Emily was about to laugh.
- Are you going to get territorial with my boss? – She scoffed.
- If it's necessary…
- I don't think so. – She removed the second boot and put her hands on the mattress, throwing the body back slightly, stretching her legs. – It seems that she hates me.
- Why? – Alison asked. You had to be very embittered to hate someone so darn good as Emily.
- I don't know, from the first day she looked at me as if she wanted to rip my eyes off. – She remembered how the woman had reacted when she saw the brunette came from Demetz. – Maybe she knows Demetz and doesn't like him too much.
- It wouldn't surprise me, the guy was weird enough. – She sure didn't like that Demetz. – I was shocked he was so close to Vivian as to give us work without asking anything.
- Yeah… he didn't seem her type. – Emily noticed that the blonde hadn't said CeCe, she had said Vivian, she was way more aware of the situation than it looked, if she knew that the brunette still had trouble reacting to "Natalie"…
- Oh, believe me, that guy wasn't her type, not at all. I can bet she was totally drunk the day she met him, otherwise she would have never endure someone like him.
The brunette felt a slight jab on her chest when she heard that last comment. It had sounded sufficiently acidic to remind her of the old Alison. Did she say it because of Demetz's personality? They hadn't spent that much time with him to be able to judge him like that. Or perhaps she said it because of his look? He wasn't exactly handsome, and he seemed the usual "library addict", also, there was the wheelchair… Would the blonde discriminate him? Because of that? She didn't like any of those questions, Alison seemed so different those days though… Emily hadn't miss the detail that her way of talking had changed when CeCe had appeared in the conversation. If the brunette was able to bring the best out of her, could it be that CeCe took care of bringing out the worst?
- I've been thinking we could paint the walls. – Alison said suddenly, and the train of thoughts in Emily's mind was abruptly cut because of how random she found the change of subject.
- I know I'm always the one thinking about it but, you just said that we have to be extremely careful with the money and now, you want to paint the walls of the room? – The blonde shrugged. – Do you think that woman of the entrance would let you do that?
- She wouldn't even know and, by the way, I wasn't thinking about buying anything. I want to look in the depot of the bookstore to see if there is any type of paint, it is so big that surely I'll be able to find something. – Emily kept looking at her with suspicion. – What? It is depressing, it gets more and more holes.
The brunette followed the blonde's finger, which was indicating a chipped area that stood clearly out. It was true, although they didn't even go near to the walls, the white paint that had been poured over them at some point in prehistory was being ripped off day by day, leaving gray holes that seemed spots of indelible dirt… the place was as bleak as it had been the day they entered it for the first time, probably even more.
- Well… I don't know, if you find something we could try to fix it a little. – The brunette finished, preparing to rise from the bed. – I'm going to shower.
- Do you want me to shower with you? – Emily gasped, unable to move a muscle.
It had happened more than once during the time they had been there. They started talking about something fairly serious and suddenly, Alison let out a comment that left her completely disoriented. She flirted with her at the most unexpected moments. One minute she was telling her something important and the next the brunette could see her pupils dilating, and hear her voice becoming suggestive. That bipolarity broke her concentration. And Emily didn't know how to react at those instants, because whatever it was that they were talking about, it ended overshadowed by a desire that crawled, burning, down her stomach.
- Don't tell me you haven't thought about it – Alison approached the brunette, moving deliberately slow over the mattress, allowing her to see the progress of her body, eliminating the distance between them to stand behind her, her chest against her back and her hands on her hips. – I've done it.
She felt her breath on her neck, her fingers expanding over her abdomen and her arms surrounding her body… that woman was going to be her ending.
- Ali, it isn't… today isn't the best day for that. – She took her hands and pulled them away from her body, the blonde separated from her instantly and looked into her eyes, worried? – It's just… well, I'm in those days of the month and…
The brunette saw the girl relaxing with the same rapidity with which she had stiffened, allowing a little smile of sympathy inhabit her lips.
- Now I understand why you didn't let me touch you at night. – Emily blushed.
- I… I did let you touch me.
- Not the way I wanted. – There it was again, that voice that doubled the speed of her beats.
- Ali… your hands were… everywhere.
- Does it bother you? – She asked timidly and Emily wanted to know how she managed to fluctuate between emotions so easily, to think that there were people in Rosewood more than sure that the girl couldn't "feel" anything.
- No… not at all. – In a way, the brunette understood that sudden outbreak of doubt and contention, because you could say that they hadn't explored all the possible "uses" of the bed, yet, and they both knew that this was only due to the little control remaining in Emily.
The brunette had managed to stop her every time the girl had tried to reach the "dangerous" areas of her body. Was it very absurd that she wanted to wait a bit before sleeping with her again? She wanted to enjoy more the initial teasing of the relationship, although she already knew a lot of her body.
- It's just… I didn't expect you would like contact that much. – Emily confessed, matching their looks. That first night they had in her bed the blonde had been very restrained, following her path, touching her just enough, and now she seemed unable to keep her hands off her.
- It wasn't like that before. – Alison said quietly, with a darkness that swept her face momentarily. – But with you… a lot have changed.
The warmth that her eyes acquired with the last sentence placated almost completely the chill that splattered the brunette's body while listening the first. There were definitely thing of Alison's past that were still hunting her.
The blonde saw how Emily's brow furrowed with concern and before she could ask anything she kissed her… briefly. She had come to her so fast that she hadn't gotten a good support and had slipped, falling on the mattress without any elegance. Here the brunette had to laugh, irremediably. Alison blushed and growled, pulling the girl towards her, making her body fall over her own figure. They kissed again, and their laughs mingled, making it impossible to know which one came out of each lips.
- You owe me a shower. – The blonde said when they managed to calm down a little bit.
- Okay. – Emily accepted. – Next week.
- Next week. – Alison repeated, like sealing a deal.
