Our Masterpiece (GirlxGirl) [Intersex]

XIII

ıllıllı 𝓔𝓶𝓲𝓵𝔂 ıllıllı

Though an hour has now passed since the intimate events Charlotte and I shared in the hot springs, our electrifying kisses were still lingering on my lips, making them tingle with their static remnants. I can still feel her hands wandering skillfully all over my body, touching me in ways no one else has. I can still see those beautiful, seductive blue eyes glowing under the sun's rays, practically begging me to make her temporarily forget about all of her worries with my hands and mouth. Despite the Frenchwoman being seated next to me at the upscale steakhouse we're meeting her grandmother at, she feels much too far away from my reach. The distance between us is more energetical, than it is physical.

I try to not let the words she'd spoken after such a steamy evening torture me, but how could they not?

'You'll realize how stupid of you it was to even involve yourself with me. You'll move on.'

I'm no psychologist, but her mental tactics are easier to read than one of my calculus textbooks. I was falling for the blue-eyed goddess, and she was not allowing herself to fall for me. Charlotte would say whatever harsh, vitriolic things she could to try to smolder the relationship that's rapidly, but surely, developing between us. Every time I manage to tear down those walls of hers, she puts them back up in a matter of minutes. My dance partner could go from setting fire to my poor heart with her searing-hot passion, to being calloused and candidly cold towards me at the flick of a light switch. The occasional self-destructive tendencies that stemmed from her mental disorder didn't help our case either, but it was something I accepted regardless. I didn't adore Charlotte any less over it.

Maybe I wanted to be the one to handle her wounded heart gently with care and heal its scars, because the closer I get to her, the more of a notion I have that it's never been treated properly before. Her biggest fear is being back in her ruthless and infamous family's clutches, whereas mine pales in comparison: falling for someone who may never be mine. The more I ponder over this fear, the more selfish I begin to feel. Charlotte was fearing for her life, whereas I'm just fearing for my emotions.

I didn't know the full story behind Charlotte's relatives, and I only know so much about her unpleasant upbringing. While I had a general gist of her violent past, maybe I wasn't taking into account how terrifying the constant threat of her past unfolding before her in the present day must be.

There's an invisible wall barricading Charlotte and I from each other, and I'm still hopelessly searching for a way to knock it down. Surely there's some type of dirt on Warren or Catherine I could dig up to keep them out of Charlotte's life if they ever try to reappear? Being a programming prodigy could come in handy beyond my career and classes; I make a mental note to do some searching of my own at a later time. There has to be some type of leverage I'm capable of having in this situation. As my mother had always told me, "When there's a will, there's a way."

What secrets could the Hollander family be hiding? Given their grossly excessive amount of wealth, there has to be a plethora of them.

Charlotte's gaze trails over to me, the brunette watching me carefully. She raises a brow at how deep-in-thought I am, but doesn't question the cogs turning in my head. She's in the same boat as me, the troubled look on her face mirroring mine. I make an attempt to reach for her hand, mildly hurt but not surprised, when she ignores it. Her hands busy themselves with folding a napkin in her lap instead, before a voice from behind startles us.

"Well there you two are!"

We turn our heads as a stylish elderly woman, who must be none other than Charlotte's grandmother, beams brightly at us. Her shoulder-length hair is a platinum ice-white permed with elegant curls, her blue eyes twinkling with youth as if she wasn't actually in her seventies.