The Longing

by Bridget Essex

  Sydney bent her head and slowly, reverently, like she was bowing to something greater, she bent her head until her mouth met Caroline’s thigh.

  And Sydney brushed a kiss against that sweetest skin.

  Caroline’s breath hitched, a velvet sigh escaping her, and when Sydney gazed up at the woman, Caroline’s eyes had darkened to a new moon sky.

  Sydney’s life had taught her to be brave.

  And bravery is doing and being, even when you’re afraid.

  “I want you,” Sydney whispered, even though her voice shook.

  Caroline nodded once, twice, and then her fingers closed around Sydney’s upper arms, and she drew the girl up beside her on the bed.

  “I want you, too,” the woman said.

  And they began it.

  Kisses are a doorway. Sydney leaned forward and brushed her mouth against Caroline’s cheek, soft, unsure. None of her movements possessed surety, for this she had never done. All of this. But she knew what she wanted, and she let her body lead the way.

  She knew she wanted to kiss Caroline, so she did. She knew she wanted to curl her fingers at the softness of the back of Caroline’s neck, so this she did, too. Caroline’s skin was the softest thing Sydney had ever touched, and it made her shiver in delight, her fingertips tracing up and into Caroline’s hair, the curls, like satin against her fingers.

  Caroline smelled of perfume and softness, of warmth and possibility. When Sydney wrapped her other hand at Caroline’s waist, she felt that possibility, too, felt it in the give of Caroline’s perfect curves, felt it when she traced her hand down to rest now on Caroline’s knee, beneath the skirt of her dress.

  Sydney wanted so badly to get it right. She was so serious as Caroline laid down beside her, as they laid down together on the little twin bed. The twin bed made for closeness, and this helped Sydney. Everywhere on Caroline was a wonderland, every part she touched was beautiful, so she wanted to touch all of it, taste all of it.

  Sydney wasn’t naïve, or—at least—she liked to hope she wasn’t. She’d read enough erotica online, had rented lesbian romances from the library and combed their pages, feeling her heart flutter against her ribs as she read love story after love story and wondered if she’d ever experience anything like them herself. She knew, in theory, the map of a body, the roads to travel, the places to stay awhile and experience.

  But this was her first, and she was so nervous. She wanted to taste Caroline, she wanted to make Caroline feel good, she wanted to feel good herself, and her brow was furrowed as she traced her palm, her fingers, up Caroline’s thigh, as she found the zipper on the back of Caroline’s dress. As she pulled it down.

  Caroline’s shoulders were sublime, the line down the middle of her back a clear invitation to kisses. Sydney’s fingers found the clasp of her bra and undid it, and the flesh beneath that cloth was what she traced and touched and kissed with a reverence she had never felt for anything else.

  Caroline smiled against her, kissed her, too, elegant fingers finding the perfect patterns on Sydney, against Sydney, in Sydney.

  And Sydney’s nervousness faded away. Everything was perfect because each motion of the dance they did was real and raw, and Sydney learned that night that making love is much like singing. There are rhythms, there is cadence and timing. There are the sublime notes uttered by a gasping mouth, a moan so pure in tone that it can touch you in your deepest places.

  Sydney’s earnestness, her attention and her worship of every inch of skin and tongue and center made Caroline whisper her name. That, too, was its own kind of music.

  Here, together, with no space between them, Sydney and Caroline moved and merged. Here, together, there was no darkness of the past. The scars on Sydney’s heart—still white and deep and eternal—were covered in kisses that made them seem less powerful.

  Maybe they were less powerful.

  For when Sydney looked down at Caroline beneath her, looked down at the woman with her golden hair spread around her lovely face, exactly like a halo, Sydney knew that what they did together wasn’t wrong. Though she’d been taught and told, though she’d been coerced to admit it, the pain of that past seemed lessened. For something so beautiful as what they did now, something so lovely as these kisses, these touches, these moments…

  It couldn’t be wrong.

  It couldn’t be.

  And Sydney knew this, knew it like a prayer, memorized and held in her heart.

  She bent down and brushed her mouth against Caroline’s shoulders, peppered with a constellation of freckles. She kissed her skin, she kissed her heart.

  The broken places inside of Sydney felt warm and soft and yielding as Caroline wrapped her arms about the girl’s neck, as Caroline drew Sydney down on top of her, holding her like something precious and lovely.

  Within those arms, Sydney felt it, whole and real. It was a sense of safety, built from love, unfurling around her like a world opening after winter.

  Sydney listened to the song of Caroline, the melody in her voice as she whispered to her, pressing smiles to her mouth.

  And Sydney finally knew that all she’d been told and taught was wrong: for there was no hell or burning.

  There was only heaven, here on earth.

  Epilogue

  “Girl, we need to talk about your furniture choices.”

  Sydney rolled her eyes at Thom, but she was already laughing. “Dude, don’t knock it—all of this was garbage picked.”

  “Yeah, you didn’t have to tell me that—it’s kind of obvious.” He also rolled his eyes, but then he flopped down beside Max on the couch and scratched behind the dog’s ears. For his part, the dog happily lolled onto his side and took up a big part of Thom’s lap, tongue hanging out of his gargantuan mouth.

  Sydney didn’t have much to pack. In fact, what she possessed was already in two plastic totes that Caroline had brought for her out of her little storage area down in the building of the Hamilton.

  So that meant that the rest of the things—Sydney’s few odd end tables, her couch, her bed—had no purpose, and could be taken to the curb, back from where they’d come.

  “And, anyway, don’t knock them. They served me well. This poor couch.” Sydney reached out and patted it, giving Thom a sidelong grin. “Are you sure you don’t want it? It’s very nice for…uh…romantic things.”

  Thom raised a brow, his head to the side as he gazed up at Sydney with narrowed eyes. “You do realize I’ve been sexually active since I was, like, fourteen? And you’ve been sexually active for—like—a month? And you also realize…” said Thom, his grin deepening so widely that he couldn’t help but laugh, “that you’re blushing redder than a fire engine right about now?”

  Sydney grinned, too, and then sat down on the couch beside her dog and friend. “Yeah, I’m aware—I feel as hot as a hot pepper.” She reached up and pressed her palms to her cheeks. “Jerk.”

  Thom actually giggled, which might be one of the most adorable things Sydney had ever heard. “You do realize,” he continued, “that seeing you this happy is—like—the best thing in the universe?”

  Sydney gazed at him with soft eyes. “You’re a really good friend, Thom.”

  He shrugged. “Takes one to know one. You were there for me with the whole Ex Crisis. You made a loyal man of me, somehow, so. I’ll be here for you for always.” He shrugged, then moved on from that Moment of Feelings as he scratched Max again. “So, what about Caroline’s cat, and this big guy?”

  “We already put them together, and Max is madly in love with Sassy, and Sassy adores him, so that worked out well—I think it’s an interspecies love story in the making!”

  Thom laughed, then shrugged. “With all the love you’re exuding out of your pores right now, I wouldn’t actually doubt it.”

  Sydney shook her head at him, laughing.

  “Anyhow, this crap isn’t taking itself to the curb, now is it?” asked Thom, stretching with a yawn.

  “No.” Sydney sighed and stood,
patting her thighs. “C’mon.”

  Thom stood up and went to the end of the couch, grinning sidelong at Sydney. “I just…I mean, I wanted to ask you: you’re really doing this?”

  “Taking my couch out to the curb?”

  “No—you know what I mean. Moving in with Caroline.”

  “Oh, hell yeah. Yes. Yes,” said Sydney, her smile deepening. “A million yeses.”

  “You’re not worried about what people will…think?”

  Sydney lifted her chin, her eyes glittering. “If anyone has a problem with me and Caroline, they can go to hell and—”

  “Whoa, there,” laughed Thom, raising his hands.

  “But, seriously?” asked Sydney with a shrug. “I don’t care. Caroline doesn’t care. And if we ever start caring—we’ll work through it together. It’s worth it, Thom. She’s worth it.”

  Thom smiled at her, his face soft and purely happy. “Yeah. She seems like it.”

  They pulled the couch—which involved quite a few curses, including some new, highly inventive ones never heard before by man or beast—out into the hallway.

  And that’s when the Worst Possible Thing happened.

  For Mrs. Williams opened the door of her apartment.

  Mrs. Williams stood in the threshold in her designer workout pants, her workout shirt today said “running to Jesus,” and her expression was pure misery and anger and disgust, somehow rolled up into one sneering package.

  “Sydney,” said Mrs. Williams. She took in the couch, then glanced at Thom—sneered a little harder (Thom was wearing a big rainbow t-shirt himself)—and back to Sydney. “What’s this?”

  “I’m taking my couch to the curb,” said Sydney, and she was so happy she found herself actually grinning at Mrs. Williams.

  If even Mrs. Williams couldn’t ruin her good mood, that meant it was pretty damn good.

  “…Why?”

  “I’m moving in with Caroline.”

  It was a very interesting thing to see all the different colors that passed over Mrs. Williams’ face.

  It settled on red.

  “Anyway, we’d better get going,” said Sydney quickly, but Mrs. Williams sniffed and drew herself up to her full height.

  “I suppose I should tell you,” said Mrs. Williams with a stiffness that boards would envy, “that we’re leaving the Hamilton.”

  Sydney raised a brow, waited, even though she was inwardly giving herself a thousand high fives, and then throwing a thousand high fives to the angels.

  “My husband got a job somewhere in California.” The way Mrs. Williams said “California” made it sound like a pretty rotten curse word.

  “There’s lots of gay people in California,” said Sydney, her grin widening. “You’ll probably have a lot of fun trying to convert them there.”

  Mrs. Williams stared at Sydney, her mouth open.

  “You should make lemonade out of lemons and all that,” said Sydney with a shrug. “I’m not sorry to see you go, Mrs. Williams, but I hope you have a happy life.” She picked up her end of the couch and Thom picked up his. “I know I certainly will: the gayest, happiest life.”

  Mrs. Williams was spluttering, but was so shocked she couldn’t actually say anything as Thom and Sydney lugged the couch out of the building. She did end up slamming her door in some sort of childish fit, which cause Thom to giggle again, which caused Sydney to giggle.

  They took a couple of rest breaks, and finally, finally, the couch was down on the curb and Thom and Sydney sat down on it, totally exhausted and still chuckling a little, now helplessly.

  Thom and Sydney stared up at the bright blue sky.

  And somewhere, up on the seventh floor, Caroline—and Sydney’s—window was open.

  Caroline was singing.

  “I have an ear for music

  And I have an eye for a maid—

  I like a pretty girlie

  With each pretty tune that's played.

  They go together like sunny weather

  Goes with the month of May...

  I've studied girls and music

  So I'm qualified to say:

  “A pretty girl is like a melody

  That haunts you night and day!”

  Sydney glanced up at the window, visible from the curb, and there stood Caroline, wearing a bright blue dress that flared out around her pretty hips, carrying Sassy in her arms a little like a baby about the apartment and singing to the little cat in the sunshine.

  Her song filled the air with the voice of an angel…

  Thom grinned sidelong at her and glanced up at the window, too.

  “That’s lovely,” he said.

  Sydney nodded slowly once, twice, her face shining. “She is.”

  And Sydney, Thom following, rose from the couch on the curb and walked the many, many steps up to her new apartment, her new home, her new life.

  As Sydney walked through the door, sunshine streamed through the open window glowing about Caroline like a perfect halo.

  Heaven was this place on earth.

  The End

  If you enjoyed The Longing, you'll love Don’t Say Goodbye! Maxine “Max” Hallwell has spent her entire life making the safe, responsible decisions. When her best friend, Jo, introduces her to her new girlfriend Fiona, a stunning, charismatic cake decorator, Max realizes that making safe decisions might have cost her the woman of her dreams... A heartwarming, poignant romance, Don’t Say Goodbye is available to read for free in Kindle Unlimited!

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