Part IV: Chapter 15 - Where Do You Go
I dream that every intimate moment I've ever had with Tegan is included in a playlist on YouTube. Interested viewers can watch the whole story, from that day when we were sixteen, to our last night together on the little bus before the German journalist came to talk to us in Berlin, and everything in between. People watch the videos, comment, give it thumbs up and thumbs down. Against my own better judgement, I scroll through the comments.
Hot but can't Tegan get on top sometimes?
Hey is that a new tattoo on Sara's right arm?
Fucking dykes.
I wake up, sweating, relieved that it was a dream, and then immediately disappointed that it wasn't a dream entirely. My heart sinks like it does every morning, after that half-second of peace before recollection floods back, and I sigh heavily. I lay there with my eyes closed, trying to push down the sadness, but then, I think of Tegan, and I'm angry because thinking of her shouldn't make me want to die. It's unfair and for a moment I feel sorry for myself until I remember that it's my fault, I've fucked up my life, and I deserve this mess. Somehow I've managed to lose not only a lover, if that word is even adequate, but also my sister. She'll be my sister still, but how will our relationship ever be the same? Well it simply can't be the same, but what will it be? Will we ever go onstage together and joke like we used to? Will we ever sit around a dinner table with our family? How can any of this ever happen again? It can't. It's all gone and that's it.
I shift and I hear Emy murmur behind my ear, softly waking. Her arms around me tighten, and she kisses my hair.
"You okay?" she murmurs sleepily, and I nod, not ready to speak. "You said something in your sleep, a while ago," she says.
"Weren't you sleeping?" I ask. Her warmth and her arms around me help wash away some of the unpleasant residue of my dream.
"I've been awake for a while. . . I didn't want to wake you." Her breath is on my ear; I shiver a little, and she kisses my ear. "Did you shiver?" she asks with a soft chuckle.
"You know it gets me when you kiss my ear," I say, and she does it again, and why can't it just feel good? Is everything that feels good, for the rest of my life, going to make me think of Tegan and then kick me in the guts? I'm glad she is behind me because she won't see me struggle with more stupid and senseless tears.
"Sara, are you crying?" She asks me suddenly, surprising me.
"What? Why?" I ask.
"You're breathing funny." I take a deep breath.
"I'm not going to. I won't," I say. She kisses my neck and quite unintentionally, I push my hips back against her and she takes a breath. It's not appropriate really, my response, but she unconsciously knows my buttons and pushes them without even trying. Her one hand is still rubbing my belly, softly, like she knows I like it, exactly. I pull her arms tighter around me and she kisses my neck again and I shiver. I feel a little tremor when her hand slips under my shirt and the warmth of her hand is on my stomach, softly rubbing. Her thighs and hips are pressed up against mine and I feel her every breath through my back. I lightly touch the back of her hand as it touches my belly and her lips are soft on my earlobe, and then below my ear, and then lower on my neck, and I can't help it, I'm pressing back against her a little bit, just slowly again, and start to feel the warmth spreading from the centre of me. They're slow and soft, her hands and her lips. The spasms in my chest have subsided. I take a deep breath. Her touch, her voice, all of them calm me like they always have.
I notice that the slow circles she is making on my stomach are gradually shifting; her hand strokes just slightly lower each time, just slightly. I lay my hand over her other hand, which is resting on my waist, and little by little, I lift it, pressing against my body, higher and higher and she doesn't resist me, and then her hand is on my breast, and I hold it there, feeling the spark in my body as her palm grazes my nipple, hearing her take a breath behind me. I press my hips against her again, and her hand strokes a little lower, and when her fingertips graze over the curve of the bone there, she stops moving.
"Sara, I'm not. . . I don't know if I. . ." I feel the heat in her voice because I know her, and I want her touch now, I really do, I don't want her to let go of me, I don't want to think, I want to feel her. I want her to feel me. I want to know that she meant it every time she said that I wasn't disgusting and repulsive. I want to believe her but I need her to prove it.
"Please," I whisper. Her soft mouth on my neck again as her hand slides slowly lower, inside the loose shorts I'm wearing, over my underwear and I take a breath and so does she because it's been a long time since we've felt each other like this. I push my hips back against her again when her fingers circle up and, as they circle lower again, they slide softly and gently under the band of my underwear, and lower, slowly, down, for a moment the curve of her hand cupping me and I hold my breath until her fingertips, wet now, softly slide up through me and she's breathing warmly on my neck.
"Sara. . . oh," she breathes when she feels that, and my face heats up as I feel myself swelling against her fingertips as they gently trace through everything. She slowly pushes her pelvis forwards against me as I push mine gently back against hers. I want to kiss her, but I don't want to move. I want her behind me like this, her arms wrapped around me, one hand gently and slowly stroking the hot swollen parts of me and I'm starting to need something more.
"Do you want. . .?" she whispers, and I nod as she kisses the back of my neck, and then my shoulder. Her hand slowly withdraws from my underwear, traces over my hip, and she slides my shorts and underwear down my thighs and I don't move, I stay there, just like we were when we slept. The lower part of me is exposed now, and she puts one arm back around me, and touches my stomach again, but her other hand slides softly over my hip and then around behind me. I feel her fingers trace over me, finding that wet place where I want her fingers, and then they stop.
"Emy," I whisper, maybe a little bit urgently, so she kisses my neck as she gently presses those two fingers inside of me, so slowly, all the way in and we both suck in our breath, and once her two fingers have pressed in deeply, her hand stops for a moment and I feel the inside of me pulsing and squeezing, surrounding her fingers. Her face is in my hair, and she inhales my smell. Her fingers slowly slide out and then in and I take another breath. The inside of me is full, and the pressure almost hurts, but she's so slow. She continues to move, slowly, and she's gentle like she's always gentle, and she's wrapped around me with her warmth, and something starts happening in my abdomen, down low, and it is a warm slow flood up through my chest, my throat. I squeeze her other hand against my chest, over my heart, her fingers splayed flat against my skin, up under my shirt.
"I feel your heart," she whispers, and I feel it too, in my ears, in my throat. I keep her hand there, squeezing it to me as those fingers of her other hand slowly push into me again, again, not increasing in speed but still, I start to feel a warm building wave inside of me. Her breaths against my ear are warm and slow, her lips pressed against the thick vein swelling in my neck as I breathe with her, and that flood of heat spreads, and I breathe in deeper, and so does she, and she whispers oh, because she feels the inside of me start to squeeze her fingers, and she keeps moving out, slowly and in again, gently, deeply, and as we both start to feel the contractions start inside, her other hand moves from my chest, down my stomach and lower, finding the hot pulsing place on the outside of me and slowly pressing against it and with both of her hands on me, one deeply and gently inside, the other slowly circling outside, the long swelling wave builds and the first sounds pass my lips, oh, and she strokes me still, yes, and I turn my face into the pillow and gasp, hearing a gentle murmur from her lips as they kiss my ear again and oh again, and my hands both press against her one hand, down between my legs, as the other hand behind me strokes and presses inside a little bit longer until I release a long, low moan because I can't stop it anymore. She withdraws her hand from the front of me and wraps that arm around me and squeezes me as more gentle spasms shake my body against hers and when I let out a long trembling breath, she kisses my neck again and says my name. Her fingers stop inside of me, feeling my pulsations as I feel their stillness and hear her breathing and the throbbing from my throat all the way down. The hand on the front of me moves softly to my stomach again. Another breath, and she gently withdraws her fingers and both arms are around me again, pressing me close, her lips resting against my hair, and we both breathe.