We Rose Up Slowly

Chapter Nineteen

Trixie walked from class to class trying not to get more distressed than she already was. As if college wasn't enough of a weight to carry, the Katya situation had been insufferable. She understood Katya, so much, however, it was getting to such a point that it felt as if Katya was testing Trixie's limits. Every time they would have a sweet moment, whether that be cooking dinner together or going out for a walk together, Katya ruined it. She would mention something about Violet, or bring up a time was Trixie was shitty. It wasn't not  justified if Katya wanted to be an asshole, Trixie had been an asshole for months to her. But still, that wouldn't change Trixie's lack of patience. 

"What's going on inside that head of yours?" Kim asked as she brought the food to her mouth.

"Katya," She said with a sigh

"When isn't she?" Kim laughed, while Trixie didn't.

"It stresses me out," Trixie left her fork inside the tupperware. "It's been two weeks, and there is no progress, not a kiss, not a hug, nothing!"

"Patience is key, Tamara," Kim said with a grin.

"You've been hanging out with Katya," Trixie squinted her eyes.

"Huh?" 

"Katya is the only person that calls me Tamara." 

"See? that's progress," Kim saw the puzzled expression on Trixie's face. "She gave you a nickname, and it isn't sweetie, or honey, or any of the corny shit, it's Tamara." 

"I don't think so," Trixie blushed. "She did the name thing since we met."

"But this time it isn't to piss you off, is it?" Kim raised her brows. "It's an affectionate nickname."

Affection. Is what echoed in Trixie's head. She had thought it was all about affection, about time spent together, physical closeness. But where was the intimacy, the mutual understanding, the communication, the emotional closeness? There was so much missing and Trixie couldn't believe she didn't clock it sooner. Katya didn't want kisses, sex, or hugs, she already had had that from Trixie before. Katya wanted to know if Trixie cared about who Katya is, no matter the kisses, sex, or hugs. Trixie needed to make sure Katya understood she isn't the same woman that she had been for the last 21 years of her life.

-

Katya looked at her painting, analyzing whatever needed to be fixed. Two weeks ago, she considered it finished, but right now, it felt like an empty canvas. The two women, with the white sheets covering their faces completely, only their blonde hair and shoulders showing, united in a kiss, something was missing. She stared as if the painting would magically have a voice and tell her what to do. This artwork needed to be done for the freshmen' exposition of art, the clock is ticking. Katya stood up, grabbed her cigarettes, and walked to the balcony, she needed a break. 

"Jesus!" Katya opened the door and found Trixie, who apparently just arrived from class. 

"Oh, I didn't know I am that ugly," Trixie said and she laughed.

"I'm just stressed and you popped up out of nowhere," 

"That makes two of us," Trixie stepped aside to let Katya walk out of her room. "Did I ever tell you about how much I love your room?"

"No," Katya put the cigarette between her lips. "You did tell me about how it's the 'Russian weirdo chamber'"

"I was jealous," Trixie stood next to Katya on the balcony. 

"Of what? Your style is the opposite of mine."

"You made your room feel like home," Trixie turned towards Katya, their eyes meeting. "Mine doesn't feel like that, it feels of what I want to feel like home but it doesn't"