Chapter Text
Therese moved her pencil almost aggressively against the paper, adding more shadings to her sketch. She took a small sip from her coffee and her gaze found the woman again, who was completely unaware of the fact that she was now her model.
Today Therese just needed to be elsewhere; not in her house where she felt utterly alone (lonely in fact), trapped with her impulsive thoughts. A cafe would surely do and here she was, sketching her worries away— along with a helping hand, a muse.
Heavenly creature, Therese had thought when she first saw her. She looked oh-so-divine in her dangerously thin summer dress; with bleached hair brushing milk white shoulders upon each move, a cigarette between fingers, and blue eyes plying between the lines of whatever she was reading. She was presumably around her late forties; though it still felt like whoever was responsible for their existence, had taken his time to structure her features.
Therese worked unnecessarily hard on each detail of the sketch, scared of failing her by plotting her cynically flawless figure wrong. She nervously flipped her pencil and looked up, and that was it— their eyes met at the same instant. She couldn’t look away, how could she while the woman’s ice blues were on her, making her feel exposed, dominantly. Therese felt her stomach twist and the next thing she knew, there were butterflies in it; not a couple of them, she felt invaded.
Then the woman stood up, gathering up her belongings. The guilt smashed through Therese’s body quick. Jesus in heaven, she might have disturbed her, unapologetically studying every single inch of her body. The fact that she somehow could have been the reason for the woman’s leaving made her want to slap herself, and do it hard. As if it had burnt her, she dropped her pencil on the table.
Though the woman proved her wrong, locking their eyes once again, and she walked— towards her. Heels clicked (and how could something sound so inviting?) until she stopped right before her table with a playful smile on her face. Therese felt partly relieved.
“Is that me you’re drawing, or are you just happy to see me? You stare a lot, darling,” Her voice was deep, deeper than Therese had thought it would be. She could narrate things, a thought shaped itself in her mind and before she managed to say anything, the woman teased again, “Cat got your tongue?”
“Not at all,” Therese said, smiling awkwardly before slightly bending over to offer her hand. “Therese Belivet.”
The woman shook hand in a wickedly gentle way and Therese could swear it burnt where she touched. “Therese, not Theresa?”
“No,” The woman’s brows raised with surprise and Therese felt ridiculously proud of interesting her.
“Therese Belivet. It’s lovely.” It’s lovely. Was she lovely, really? Therese felt like a teenager in high school, crushing on one of her teachers, embarrassingly thirsty for their approval and attention— she blushed.
“And yours?” she then dared to ask, completely sure she was going to hear a numinous name.
“Carol,” it sure was.
“Carol,” Therese repeated. Her name sounded like a hymn on her tongue. She wanted to say it again, and again, and again.
“May I?” Carol asked, then pointed at the chair across Therese. Her voice felt as if she could do anything she wanted, to anyone— to Therese, specifically.
“S-sure,” Therese said, quickly tidying up the mess she’d made as much as she could. The idea of hiding the sketch crossed her mind, though Carol seemed clever and witty (and bold). She surely was going to ask about it, so she decided against it, didn’t bother.
“So you draw, don’t you?” She offered Therese a cigarette. Therese took one. “I do,” she leaned toward the lighter woman was holding for her. Her hands were slender with nails red and manicured, and they looked smooth. So smooth that Therese wondered how they would feel against her—
“What was it that you found so interesting about me?” Carol inquired, as expected. Still, Therese choked on smoke and desperately gasped for air before collecting her thoughts and answering; hoping the words wouldn’t sound as embarrassing as they were in her head. “I think you are... Magnificent.”
Her words were enough to draw a laugh from Carol’s mouth and it was music to Therese’s ears. She watched the wrinkles around Carol’s eyes make themselves visible as she laughed, head thrown back, making her seem even more beautiful.
“Why thank you,” Carol smiled. “You are not too bad yourself.” Her eyes were lit up with gratification. They both took their time to observe each other. Therese felt a bond forming— a candidness, and perhaps something more, something intimate based on attraction: both sexual and emotional.
“Won’t you show it to me?” Carol pulled a sad face, “The sketch.” And Therese couldn’t believe how charming she looked. Of course she would, if she wanted her to. She would do anything she wanted— and she said it out loud, “Anything you want.”
Carol looked satisfied with the answer she got, though not surprised. She knows, Therese thought. I’m under her thumb now. However it didn’t make her uncomfortable in any way, not at all. Carol somehow made her feel... Safe. Safer than she had ever been. Then her trembling fingers slid the sketchbook across the table, making it easier for Carol to see.
“Splendid,” Carol whispered to herself, eyes locked on the sketchbook, analyzing the details. “My, my, you’re talented, darling.”
Therese felt her cheeks get warm— she could mutter a thank you barely, making Carol chuckle at the effect she had on her. Carol then leaned forward, returning the sketchbook.
“Oh, your perfume,” words slipped out of Therese’s mouth before she could stop them, a sweet smell of perfume had filled her nose since Carol was now leaning forward; the smell of perhaps a special flower, nothing like she had smelled before: it was Carol’s, and Carol’s only.
“Yes?” Carol smiled. She knows.
“It's nice.” Nice was not at all the right word. It was beyond nice, exquisite. So much that she wanted to straddle the woman’s lap and bury her nose in her exposed neck, breathe her. She ached.
“Thank you,” Carol said, before lighting another cigarette. “Harge bought me a bottle years ago, before we were married and I’ve been wearing it ever since.”
Therese felt disappointed, devastated to be honest. Married. She tried to sound not-so-vexed, failed nonetheless. “Harge is your husband?”
“Mm, well, technically we’re divorcing.” Carol said, lowering her voice; but she didn’t seem upset about it. Was that relief Therese felt?
“I’m sorry,” She wasn’t. She felt guilty for not feeling sorry— but that was it.
“Don’t be.” Carol’s hand brushed the back of Therese’s hand— and what a dizzying gesture it was. Therese drew in a sharp intake of breath and vaguely smiled.
“And you live alone, Therese Belivet?” Carol winked after addressing the question. Therese raised her brows and giggled at the straightforwardness of the woman. Of course, a fucking flirt.
“I do.” She felt the tip of the woman’s heel stroke her calf. She wasn’t sure whether it was intentional or not, but it was enough to feel her heart race.
“What do you do for a living?” Carol questioned her again.
“Uh, I-I’m a tattoo artist,” Therese said. “I own Full Circle Ink, on the main street.” A fabricated answer.
“Aren’t I lucky today!” Carol chirped. Therese blinked, staring blankly at the woman’s face until she elaborated. “I’ve been looking for a tattoo artist— necessarily a talented one, and here you are. What’s your specialty?”
“I do minimals, mostly,” Therese shrugged. “Though I’ve worked on so many different styles and designs. Been in the industry for seven years now, since I was seventeen.”
Therese watched amazement take over Carol’s face. She wondered if the woman was going to get a tattoo herself, a part of her hoping she wouldn’t— she didn't want to stain her delicious looking, porcelain skin.
“A groin tattoo,” Carol said dryly, with a smirk on her face. Tease. “A tulip, maybe two.”
Easy, thought Therese. Simple, but sexy— inviting, even. “Symbol of perfect love,” she hummed, nodding. “I can surely work on a pattern for you.”
“Perfect love indeed, clever girl.” The words echoed in Therese’s mind for a few seconds, sending a warm flush through. She buried herself in her now cold coffee, hoping the cup would help her hide how aroused she’d gotten all of a sudden.
“And what would I need to pay for such a privilege?” Carol caught her attention, her smirk growing.
Therese took her time before answering her, trying to organize her thoughts. Though it was hard focusing, feeling anticipation bite through as she realized all she wanted at that moment was Carol. She wanted to kiss her.
“Penny for your thoughts? What are you thinking about?”
“You,” Therese swiftly answered, before changing the subject immediately, leaving the woman in awe. “Could be an entirely different arrangement,” she said. “No payment. I could put it in my portfolio if you let me take your pic—”
“You may,” Carol bit her lip, shaking her head. “Wow, that’s that.”
“Uh, I’ll give you my card,” Therese smiled shyly before reaching for her bag and handing the woman a plain, black card with her name and number on it.
Carol drew her nail over the edges of the card and smiled. “What a strange girl you are.”
“Why?”
“Flung out of space,” Carol said.