Champagne Nights || Shawmila [Completed]

five

As always during those summer evenings, the crowd poured into the speakeasy, filling the air with laughter, music, and the scent of the forbidden. Shawn performed on the piano, his fingers dancing skillfully on the keys as the melody filled the room. Every now and then, his eyes met Camila's dark ones as she sang on stage, their gazes filled with desire and unspoken promises. It was in those moments that his affection mingled with darker emotions.

He had never been good at lying. Ever since he was a child, his transparent gaze had always incriminated him for his misdeeds. His cheeks turned red, his movements became abrupt and imprecise, his tongue tangled up until he stuttered. On the rare occasions when he tried to cover up his mischief by lying, his father couldn't even get mad at him. He said that Shawn reminded him of his mother, a woman that was too honest for that world, and that same inability to be dishonest was precisely what had made him fall in love with her.

Now Shawn had grown up. He had yet to become an expert in the art of deception, but he had been forced to use it out of necessity. He hated the idea of losing that part of his personality that kept him connected to his mother, but he had no alternatives. And the worst part was that he was lying to basically everyone in his life. Sometimes he wondered if it was really worth losing himself, abandoning his moral principles, the upbringing he had received from his father, all just to be by Camila's side.

Perhaps it was hypocritical from his part, but it was very easy for him to forget about that when she was in his arms. Everything happened in stolen moments, between fleeting kisses and gentle caresses. The speakeasy was their playground, a dangerous place that forced them to hide their feelings. Camila was the star of the venue, admired by everyone, but only Shawn knew her most intimate secret. During the breaks between performances, they found a hidden corner, away from prying eyes. Words turned into whispers, caresses turned into fleeting touches. It was a precarious balance, an orchestra of emotions resonating in the darkness of their lives.

The presence of Camila's husband made every encounter a challenge. They exchanged furtive glances, trying not to reveal anything behind the masks they wore on stage. Shawn kept playing, pretending to be oblivious, while his heart raced in his chest. Camila, with her captivating voice, sang songs about forbidden love, letting the words tell what she couldn't say out loud.

The nights became a labyrinth of repressed desire, of secret encounters between notes and silences. Shawn felt the tension building within him, the desire to grab Camila and run away, far from the chains of the venue and the threat of her husband. But the risk was too great, the shadow that enveloped them increasingly impenetrable. They knew they were doomed to live in darkness, nurturing their secret love away from prying eyes.

And so, between performances, they exchanged knowing smiles, whispered words in each other's ears that promised a future together. They had gone on like this for weeks and weeks, both electrified by the thrill of the forbidden, but still too uncertain to push further. Until desire overcame fear.

It was a mid-July day, and outside the open windows, the wind from the Mississippi Delta danced through the streets, carrying a gentle rustle among the leaves of the trees and making the wooden shutters creak. As had been happening for months, the ivory keys of the piano at Camila's house were rhythmically pressed by Shawn's skilled fingers. The woman listened in silence to the melodious sound of the instrument, secretly admiring the figure of her lover, memorizing his shape. She moved cautiously through the room, almost fearing to disturb the magic created by those harmonious chords, slowly approaching him.

Before the piece could end, Camila sat on the stool in front of the keyboard, her gaze fixed on Shawn. She gently placed her rosy, full lips on his cheek, his neck, below his ear. The music naturally faded away, and soon the only sounds that filled the room were the smacking of their mouths joining in a clumsy and slow dance.

Shawn felt his lover's small hands moving swiftly on his chest, undoing the buttons that held his shirt closed, loosening the suspenders of his pants, removing his undershirt. The implication of those movements made him extremely nervous yet intoxicated. With trembling hands, he undressed Camila, abandoning her dress on the floor in a pool of pale fabric.

He looked at her with apprehension, silently asking her if she was sure about taking that irreversible step that would forever separate her from George. A smile was all it took for Shawn to set aside his fears and finally admire the body of the woman he loved. It was the first time he saw her in all her splendor, her velvety skin, the soft and delicate curves of her body, the goosebumps that emerged wherever his touch passed.

Shawn touched her, first with gentleness, brushing and caressing her, then with more determination and unrestrained desire. He saw her tremble under his fingers, which moved as if Camila were one of his instruments. With each touch, a different sound, a concert of whispers, stifled breaths, moans, and pleas.

And while outside those sumptuous walls the world carried on, the city proceeded with its relentless rhythm, and cicadas chirped in the hot and humid air, for the first time they became one person, melting into each other with slow and decisive movements.

Then the days passed, encompassed in a new secret routine where the two lovers sealed their pact of love with every fiber of their bodies. Unfortunately, uncertainty became increasingly oppressive, and the belief that Camila's husband secretly observed them, his eyes burning with jealousy and suspicion, grew more insistent. It was a dangerous game, an illusion that could shatter at any moment. All it took was one kiss in the wrong place at the wrong time, and hell would break loose.

A sinister thought had made its way into Shawn's mind, making is way like a snake among his doubts and fears. The certainty of the love he felt for Camila was indelible, and he was determined to find a solution to provide them with all the time they needed to live a life together, happy and undisturbed.

He knew that what he had to do wouldn't please anyone. His beloved had explicitly forbidden him from doing so even before their story could become a possibility, but now Shawn had decided to ignore her. In an instant, he found himself lying to her as well.

He had the bizarre idea to start  investigating on George. If he could know for certain what his affairs were or who he was dealing with, perhaps he could convince Camila to leave with him. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could even find a way to end their marriage, but for now, that remained just a daring fantasy.

It wasn't easy for Shawn to look in the mirror in the morning and see the reflection of a liar. He hated having to lie, and above all, he hated having to do it to the only person in the world he had left to love. However, that didn't stop him.

As the weeks passed, he became more cunning and sly. His face turned to stone, assuming the most foolish and naïve expression he possessed. He listened attentively and eavesdropped on the secrets people blurted out without paying attention to who was around. He hid in the shadows and observed the clientele, the interactions between George and his clients, the exchanges that took place under the bar counter or in the back room. While his fingers played the worn keys of the piano or his lips blew into the brass trumpet, Shawn observed undisturbed, now part of the furniture of the venue.

Gathering information wasn't easy. He didn't know what he should look for, which clients were potentially dangerous, what move would checkmate the man. So he waited, carrying on his new life of secrets and lies.