Two Of Hearts

Understood

Sylvia

I stand in Ivy's bedroom, waiting for her to come back to me. As lovely as it is for Ivy to be so attached to Ash, I want her attention on me now. As though she heard my thoughts, she enters the room with an unsure smile.

I feel the nerves emanating from her as she closes the door behind her, which confuses me because mere moments before, she was acting like an insatiable beast.

"Ivy, is everything okay?"

There is silence from her side. Her eyebrows are scrunched as she nods slowly, taking a deep breath before saying in the most heartbreakingly low voice, "Is it... is it fine if we just make out and not go further?"

Her head is tilted downwards, her shiny black hair acting like a curtain of protection as she evades my gaze.

I cannot help the wave of sadness that washes over me. My Ivy has been through so much. She doesn't need words to explain her scars because, unlike others, I can see them. I can see the way she flinches around people, especially men, and I can see the rage within her for them. I saw it the day she went to Elordia Market with me—it was the look of someone who was not ready to let that catcalling slide. And there was this part of me that was curious. I was even more so when she lied through her teeth, waited for my car to drive away, and then got out with determination to make her way back to the market to bestow him his fate.

"Ivy, it is more than okay," I say as I walk toward her with an unspoken promise.

I will wait for her to let me in, even if it takes an eternity, and if she doesn't allow it, I will still worship her the same.

"Can I hug you, Ivy?" I ask.

She looks up through her huge lashes and gazes at me with so much adoration that it shakes the very roots of my being. I wrap my arms around her, and she reciprocates by tightening her hands around my shoulders.

If only I could go back in time and stop my ever-invading self from pushing her the way I did. I never thought Ivy would start consuming my whole being from dusk till dawn. Before I knew it, I was finding opportunities to incorporate her into my dull days to give them color. Before I knew it, I became the romantic I used to look down upon. I would hold my head high against the indignation of it all because being truly desperate and pathetic for someone was never within the realm of possibilities for the person I had meticulously curated since childhood.

"Do you think love is fundamental to being human?" I ask.

"I guess, but I always find myself defective when it comes to it. It's not just romantic love either. I also struggle with maintaining platonic bonds," Ivy says, sighing into the crook of my neck.

"I understand it now," I say.

"Hmm?"

I gently pull back so I can look into her big, beautiful eyes and then say, "To be loved is to be understood."

Ivy's lips curl into a smile, and she raises one eyebrow as she asks, "Are you insinuating something?"

I can't help but chuckle as I say, "I'm insinuating that no one has ever seen me but you. I couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with me on an atomic level because the love others gave me never reached me. It felt hollow because they couldn't understand me. Do you know what I mean, Ivy? They loved me but couldn't understand me."

Ivy's mouth is slightly open in awe as she stands still for a few seconds before reaching for me and pressing her soft lips to mine in a gentle kiss. She pulls back and says, "How wouldn't I understand, Sylvia? That sums up my entire fucking life. With you, I feel naked, like all the layers of my soul are laid bare."

-------------------------------------------

I ended up staying the night because of Ivy batting her lashes at me. The power they hold is getting dangerous. As I rub the makeup-removing cleanser into my face, I hear the bathroom door open, and after a few seconds of silence, I feel hands wrapped around me from behind. I can't help but smile as I exclaim in disbelief, "Ivy..."

"Hurry up. It's cold, and I wanna cuddle," she says in a completely serious tone.

I manage to rinse my face as fast as I can, and as I move to dry my face with a towel, Ivy moves with me, continuing to stick to me. This situation is pure entertainment.

"You are a cat," I say as I gently dab my face with the towel.

"Ah yes, you called me a 'feral cat.' How does it feel calling your girlfriend that?" she replies.

My eyebrows raise, and I can't help the grin spreading across my face as I say, "We're girlfriends?"

Her face goes red, and she becomes a stuttering mess as she says, "If you want, that is..."

"Of course, Ivy, I would love nothing more."