Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

Aileana: Part Two

The next morning, Isabeau was at the lake even earlier, when the darkness of night was only just shifting to grey, and dawn was still some way off. Mist hung in lacy wreaths on the air, and most of the forest flowers were still closed, their petals tightly furled into each other, refusing to open until they felt the heat of the sun.

On the other side of the lake, Duggan House was barely visible, a blocky shape peering through the fog.

Tucking her tartan skirt around her ankles, Isabeau sat at the edge of the lake and waited.

When she'd lived with Celeste, she had adhered to socially accepted clothing and worn nothing but dresses, but that had changed once she left to forge her own path. Men's clothes were often more comfortable, and certainly easier to travel in – Isabeau had quickly learned that travelling on foot and traversing forests, mountains, and unfamiliar countries was really not something to be done in high heels and a corset. But she still enjoyed wearing dresses, and today she wanted to greet Aileana looking more like a proper Scotswoman. So she'd donned a dark tartan skirt and a white blouse, with a plaid around her shoulders, fastened above her breast with a ring brooch.

After what felt like an age, but was really only a few minutes, a figure emerged from Duggan House, hurrying down the slope of land towards the lake.

Isabeau stood up, and even though vampires couldn't sweat, she found herself wiping her hands on her skirt. She was nervous, and that made her want to laugh. Including her human life, she was nearly a hundred years old – after all that time, she should have been smooth and confident when it came to women she liked. In her defence, it had been a long time since she'd really felt drawn to anyone, long enough that this almost felt brand new to her.

On the other side of the lake, Aileana undressed and stowed her clothes under the same knot of bushes as yesterday, and then she approached the water, naked, a small, pale shape amid the grey mist.

She dove in, cleaving the water like a blade, and emerged about fifteen seconds later, steadily swimming towards Isabeau.

When she was almost at the other side, she paused, treading water, her dark hair swirling around her. She looked like some mythical fairy queen, come to life in this quiet time between night and dawn.

"You did come back," she said.

"I did," Isabeau said, smiling.

Aileana climbed out of the lake. Just like yesterday she was completely unbothered with her nakedness, and even though the chill air raised goose-bumps all over her skin, she didn't seem to notice.

"Aren't you cold?" Isabeau asked.

Aileana shrugged.

Isabeau unpinned her brooch and took the plaid from around her shoulders. She offered it to Aileana.

Aileana smiled broadly. Her freckles looked darker today, tiny spots of colour on that pale skin. "If you want to warm me up, there are more excitin' ways," she said, putting a hand on her hip.

"You're very forward, aren't you?" Isabeau said.

She was fighting the same struggle as yesterday – trying not to look below Aileana's neck. Then again, maybe Aileana wanted her to look. After all, it was her choice to be naked, and she was standing very close to Isabeau, and the smile on her face was dark and heated, making Isabeau think of soft bodies sliding together and the sound of shared gasps.

What would it take to make Aileana gasp like that?

"Do you mind?" Aileana asked.

She hadn't taken the plaid yet.