Love Is A Crime

The Black Bra

The little red clock on the wall of the caravan struck 11:00 pm. It was now pouring with rain outside and the temperature had dropped. The only source of heat inside their caravan was by a little portable plug- in heater. But it wasn't very strong so most of the time they were quite cold. Macarena once bought a load of blankets for them to use. They tend to be on the bed most of the time, all five of them. But most nights they'd end up either on the floor or either Maca or Zulema hogging all of them so the other gets cold. It was usually Maca, resulting in Zulema being annoyed and shoving Maca in the middle of the night.

"Joder, it's freezing in here," Zulema remarked as she walked across the room to take a seat at the table. Maca was in the shower; the tiny little shower cubicle at the end of the very small caravan. It was so small, that it could barely fit one person.
Zulema had grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge on her way, and she popped it open and took a big swig. It wasn't long before she got up to turn on the heater. After coming inside from burying the body, they'd both forgotten to switch it on. Their first instinct, well Maca's, was to wash off the events of the afternoon.
Zulema tried switching it on but the unreliable thing wouldn't work. "Cabrón!" She raised her voice. It was quite usual that it stops working. Zulema just usually kicks it and it works again. Most things, human or not, are afraid of Zulema.

She tried it again but it still wouldn't work. "Come on you motherfucker," she said a bit more calmly but it still wouldn't turn on. She decided to kick it like she tends to do, "hijo de puta!"
And yes, it turned on. Zulema's methods are unorthodox but you can't deny they work! Pleased with her efforts, Zulema sat back at the table and took a drink from her beer.
After they had buried the policeman's body, Zulema brought in his radio just in case any of his colleagues try to contact him. If so, they could know in advance if they are to be expecting any unfriendly company.

A little while later, Zulema heard the shower stop. She thought again about what happened earlier that day, of how Maca had come out of her shell again. It surprised Zulema. A part of her just wanted to talk to Maca to try and find out what happened with her; why she lost her confidence. But Zulema is not one to have therapy talks with someone. Especially with Macarena. Maybe because they're too close and Zulema thinks it would be too risky? But, Zulema had once comforted Maca as they lay in bed, when she was upset. Surely a therapy talk couldn't create any more tension and cause any more risks than that!

A few minutes later, Maca walks out from the shower and across the room, in front of Zulema, wearing grey shorts and a black bra, holding her t-shirt in her hands. Her hair was wet and loose down her back. It was a sight that Zulema liked but would not admit. As she walked past Zulema, heading to the fridge, the brunette sneakily watched her but tried to keep her head looking down so it wasn't obvious. But Zulema noticed something which made her lift her head fully.
"Ugh, Rubia?"
"Sí?"
"You're wearing my bra," Zulema said, as she continued looking at Maca who turned around to face her.
"No I'm not," she replied as she looked down at her bra. "This is my bra."
"No it's not. It's mine."
"How is it yours?" Maca asked, getting slightly annoyed. She couldn't tell whether Zulema was being serious or just being her usual self.
"Because you don't wear black ones Rubia. You wear pretty little pink ones, or nude coloured ones," she said sarcastically.
"I do not!"
"Anyone would think you're a 12 year old girl," Zulema remarked.
"I own a black bra Zulema! You're not the only woman round here that wears black," Maca replied.
"Ok prove it. Where is your black one from then?"
"Ok, it's from Andres Sarda."
"Vale. And I bet the label in the one you're wearing says 'Wolford,'" Zulema said.
"Fine. You can check. But I'm telling you now that it doesn't. This is mine! I wouldn't purposefully put on one of your bras."
Zulema stood up and walked closer to the blondie. Asides from the intriguing question of who's bra it is, something else was pulling Zulema towards her. Maybe just seeing her stood there, wearing a black bra. Of course, black is Zulema's biggest weakness. So a black bra on la rubia, well, would have Zulema on her knees. It is something rare but enticing for Zulema to see. It's something she has imagined, but never seen.
"And besides, why are you so certain that this is your bra? Don't all black bras look the same?" Maca asked as Zulema approached her.
"Because, Rubia, that bra is way too big for you. My boobs are bigger than yours," she replied, glancing very quickly down at Maca's chest.
"Ha! They are not. We're practically the same size!" Maca said as she too looked down at her chest.
"Just admit it Rubia. Mine are bigger than yours. Now, turn around," Zulema added before she grabbed Maca by the shoulders and forcefully turned her around.
She searched for the label at the back of the bra but couldn't get it. "Jesus Maca. Have you cut the fucking label out of my bra as well?" Zulema said.
"No! And hurry up; your hands are freezing!"