Prompted

White Tees and Debussy

Jane shut the door carefully behind her. She didn't entirely know why she felt the need to be quiet, they were the only ones here. Shrugging off her jacket, she stole a glance at Claire, who's thin, white t shirt was only a reminder of the little layers between them. Just earlier, she had held the fabric between her fingers, complimenting her in the way friends do. It was a flattering outfit, but there, in the alarm clock light of Jane's apartment bedroom, it was more than that, somehow. Claire removed her glasses from her thick black hair and sat down on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap. Jane could make poems about each mannerism, every movement. Claire was a whole anthology. She swallowed her nervousness and tried to remind herself that it is possible to have straight friends sleep in your bed and simultaneously avoid heart palpitations.

"Do, uh, you need clothes or anything?" She managed, setting her jacket on the desk chair beside her.

Claire flicked her eyes around the room, her attention fleeting from one treasure to the next. Jane could hear the gears turning in her head, trying to piece her story together, one item at a time. 

"No, it's okay, I'm just ready to get out of these jeans," Claire sighed and smiled to Jane. "Thank you, though."

Jane nodded, trying to hide her anxiety with a small smile. Secretly, she was hoping that Claire would want pants. It would really make the whole situation less uncomfortable.

"O-okay, well, the bathroom is down the hall to the left. Feel free to use whatever is there."

As Claire padded out of the bedroom, Jane let out the breath she'd been holding and flopped back onto her queen sized mattress. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she developed feelings for Claire. She knew it as soon as they were introduced to one-another. Why she thought that it was avoidable was beyond her, it's happened so many times before. This bed has housed so many temporary fixes. Jane only found out they were one night stands when she woke up alone. She sighed, and sunk deeper into herself and the pillows. The thought of her bed hosting something so pure and innocent was strange to her. There'd never been enough room for things like the butterflies that she gets every time Claire walks into a room, or the warmth that covers her entire being whenever their bodies graze by each other.

Jane had never asked Claire her sexual preference. She remembers that she had a boyfriend, though, when they first met. That was enough to convince Jane that she could never have her in the way she wanted, but it didn't stop her from trying. For Jane, being with Claire was as easy as breathing- sometimes more effortless than that. It felt as though they were made specifically to compliment one another. Claire had this effect on people that made them able to exist without any thought or question. Any walls that had coiled themselves around Jane over the years simply crumbled in her presence. It only took one smile, and very hard part of her melted. She could tell Claire anything... Except that she was undeniably in love with her.

"Do you mind if I play one of these CDs?" Claire asked from the doorway, fiddling with the bottom hem of her shirt. Jane sat up and tried her hardest to stay focused on her face, but the her legs seemed endless. Every inch of her ebony skin was covered in innocent little freckles.Jane recalls all of the times she's wanted to connect the dots, step back and admire the road map, because god damn, was she a journey.

"No, not at all. Knock yourself out." Jane mumbled, trying to salvage what little casual tone she had left.

She closed her eyes again, hoping that not looking at her would help, but when a low tune started wavering softly through her room, she felt the bed sink beside her, and she knew she had no chance.

"This is such a beautiful song. I've known you for a year, and never took you for the classical music type," she teased.

Jane smiled, eyes still closed.
"What on earth would lead you to assume I wasn't into Debussy. It's the shaved head, isn't it?"

Claire giggled, a sound that resembled bicycle bells, dancing through the air like a paper airplane. God, she's magnificent.

It was about two songs later when Jane felt a forearm against her own. If she weren't paralyzed with anxiety, she would have jumped completely out of her skin. She opened one eye, and glanced sideways at Claire, to see if it were a mistake. Her eyes were closed, a look of peace draped over her face like a blanket. It was impossible to read her. Looking down at their hands, Jane composed a list of positive and negative outcomes that could result from her moving her pinky a centimeter to the right and resting it on top of Claire's. Both lists were equally long and daunting. She thought about each time she had to make that list, back when every decision could mean the difference between being loved or accepted. She thought about how much work it took for her to get to this point in her life where casual sex is even an option. Is it worth it, though, if that's all she'll ever have?

She looked at Claire again, and back down at their hands. She drew in a deep breath , closed her eyes, and rested her hand on top of hers. Almost instantly, every sweat gland in her body was alerted of this stressful situation, and she tried to somehow will her body to FUCKING STOP IT before this situation could possibly be made any worse. She heard Claire shift beside her, but she still remained silent. Jane risked another glance, only to find that she was already looking at her, thick brows furrowed with emotion.

"I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even thought to..." Jane trailed off as she felt Claire's fingertips running down her arm.

The next thirty seconds of eye contact were filled with so many feelings left unconfronted for so long. Wordlessly, they communicated everything that could ever need to be said. And then she smiled. Claire's smile was like headlights on a five a.m highway- bright and beautiful and heading in a million different directions. Tenderly, she tucked a stray curl behind her ear, only for it to pop out again. Jane's entire body was numb, she didn't know what this feeling was. She'd always known things like loneliness, and after prepping herself for the list of negative outcomes, this was the last thing she expected. Jane tried to speak, she really did, but words didn't want to come.

Claire let go of her hand and sat up a little. Jane followed suit. Taking both of her hands, Claire slowly positioned herself above Jane. Instinctively, her hands went to rest on Claire's hips, but uncertainty got the better of her, so she removed them, and sent her a permissive glance. Claire only giggled again, only this time it sounded less like a bicycle bell, and more like the low hum of a sports car being started. Jane took that as a "Yes, silly, you can put your hands there." and put her hands back. Jane had never wanted to be so careful with someone in her life. It was as if her white t shirt could fall apart under her fingertips. Leaning closer, Jane could smell her perfume: vanilla and coconut. At this proximity, she could count the different shades of green in her eyes, the lines on her lips, the dots on her skin. Jane had kissed many people; enough to know very well that you're supposed to close your eyes, but this was the only time she wanted to keep them open. Their lips eventually found each other, and like magnets, the closer they got, the stronger their connection became. Claire's hand's felt like curtains on her cheek; light and gentle. Jane took her time. She wanted to explore this uncharted territory, and be completely present while doing so. She gripped the white t shirt in her palms, and dragged it slowly upward, making sure to leave room for protest. There was none. In the dark, Claire's skin looked like the ocean at night- obscure and deep and everlasting. Jane had only seen the sea a few times, but she knew enough to remember how black waves felt washing over her, and she wanted nothing more in this moment than to drown in everything she was.