lesbian love short stories

love is comfortable.

Its 3:30 a.m. and Shayne is blasting her punk rock music and working on one of her current projects. she's covered in oil paint smudges, her clothes are stained and ripped, and her stringly black hair is pulled and twisted with about 4 different hair ties in a knot at the top of her head. shes rocking out and sweating in her ribbed black tank top and comfortable boyshort undies and doesnt even notice Jaimee walk through the door, coming home from her 72 hour shift as an EMT.

"Shayne!!!" Jaimee yelled.

Shayne still doesnt even see Jaimee.

"Shayne!!" she tried one more time.

This time when Shayne didnt answer, Jaimee rolled her eyes and huffed over to their stereo and yanked the cord out.

"what the-" Shayne started. "Oh hey babe! how was work? save any lives?"

"not this time. just a couple teenagers freaking out thinking their friend got alcohol poisoning and an old man who got his toe stuck in the tub faucet again."

"sounds riveting, as usual."

"yeah yeah..so what are you workin on?"

"im doing that rich white guy's portrait of his wife that hes picking up tomorrow that i completely forgot about until 3 hours ago."

"egh. gross i hate that guy hes so creepy- i think he only comes back to you because he thinks we'll invite him for a threesome."

"oh? and youre sure it has nothing to do with my artistic talent and charm?"

"oh, im sure."

"I bet you are..." Shayne said sarcastically.

"come have a smoke?" Jaimee asked, but not really since theres no way Shayne would do anything but wipe her hands off, grab the half bottle of whiskey and follow Jaimee onto the fire escape.

The two girls quietly take turns picking out a cigarette from Jaimee's crushed up pack. Shayne pulls out a lighter and methodically lights up Jaimee before herself. Theyve done this so many nights its almost an instinct at this point.

Shayne is sitting on one step with her knees bent on the next step down, one arm resting on her knee, the other alternating between taking puffs from her cigarette and pushing her hair back. Jaimee is standing at the railing overlooking the dirty but brightly lit Chicago streets below them. they pass the whiskey around and smoke their cigarettes in the comfortable silence for another 10 minutes until Shayne gets too cold. 

the girls go back inside and Shaybe gets back to painting-without the blaring rock music. Jaimee walks into the bedroom and starts undressing. she slides off her uniform and throws one of Shayne's huge vintage concert tee shirts and a pair of rainbow fuzzy socks and takes the three steps it takes to be back in the living room. Jaimee makes tea for herself and coffee for shayne in the crummy, cramped "kitchen" they have and makes it just the way Shayne likes it- black with 2 sugars. She hahds Shayne her mug and walks over to the couch across from Shayne's art "studio" and curls up on the couch to watch Shayne.

The sun is almost up and Shayne decides its time for them to go to bed. Jaimee of course had already decided this and was promptly passed out cold on the couch. Shayne sighs and walks over to the snoring Jaimee. She swiftly picks up Jaime wedding-style and brings her into their bedroom. Shayne lays her down, shuts the curtains, and hops into bed with her.

the sun is just peaking through the few cracks in the curtains and rests on the girls' sleeping faces. Shayne is spooning Jaimee and their bodies are wrapped in the off-white satin duvet cover. 

"I love you." Jaimee whispered, surprising Shayne. Shayne smiled and said,

"I love you too." and gently kissed Jaimee's shoulder.