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Heartbeats (chapter 3)

She's soft, Hannah thinks. How can she be so soft when her jawline could cut through her skin and bruise her bones? Yet, there's nothing but softness and slender fingers tickling her back right now. An error of judgment, surely, to think she'd be left torn into pieces. And really, aren't they all - soft and sweet and scented with a hint of peach? Pretty girls in pretty cities - how can anyone expect her to not kiss them back?
Somehow her shoulders are wrapped in long arms and she's pulled closer, if that's even possible, and it's her turn to sneak her hands under Grace's coat. It's warm and sort of homey in there, she could easily get used to this.
No. Nope.
No.
It's nothing.
This is nothing.
She'll sober up from this head-spinning moment of weakness. Eventually. Although this setting, this very situation where mouths insist on touching each other is not helping. Not a bit.
Nor is the fact that Grace is wearing this knee-length, sort-of-silky dress where Hannah's palms can so, so easily slide along and not know - not at all - where fabric ends and skin begins. Sure, there's a hem here, between smoothness and smoothness, and there's a thought here, between bliss and guilt, but both are so thin - Hannah really is in no condition to stop her fingers before either of them.
Grace winces slightly at her touch, and sucks a breath in. Hannah's apologetic eyes make her nostrils flare - why can't she just stop making this so complicated?
"Stop looking at me like we're doing something wrong" Grace mumbles softly.
"I'm pretty sure we are though" Hannah replies. This is the closest thing they had to 'talking about it', and it's already making her feel a little bit better.
"Just... stop pointing it out, ok?" Grace kisses her again, in the hope she'll avoid any rational answer. Before her eyes shut close again, she catches a man walking his dog, glancing at them, and smiling to himself.
Maybe he remembered doing the same, Grace thinks, kissing in a park on a sunny afternoon. They must look happy, she figures, to cause such a thoughtful smile. Well, she must look happy - he can't see Hannah, nor her forehead knitting thoughts of all sorts between her wrinkles.
Yet, there's something peaceful in their coats blending one into the others, wrapping them safely into a place of their own. A place where whole oceans keep reality away and hold this feeling of quiet perfection inside. A place for hiding, even.
How can something feel this good and be wrong anyway?
Because this feels good.
God this feels so good.
Grace's legs twitch again as Hannah's fingers trail their way up to rest of her hip. This time Grace makes sure she's not breaking their kiss, because this moment is so fragile - Hannah probably just needs a hint of hesitation to flee the scene and reach the closest airport.
So Grace hums, approving, and it seems to work because there's a hand clasping her side, seemingly keeping itself from going any further.
And suddenly she knows why that man's smile looked slightly insinuating - no one can see what's going on under the coat, but surely anyone could imagine anything.
Anything.
The idea is ridiculous, sure, but - Grace realises - perfectly possible. And really Hannah's hand is just inches from... she hears someone else walking past them, and looks up. He's an older man, staring straight in front of himself. Is he trying to avoid looking at them?
"Grace?"
Hannah pulls back slightly, feeling Grace's grip around her wrist, and hurries to remove her hand. But she isn't exactly being pulled away. A smirk appears on Grace's lips as Hannah's hand is dragged up and made to rest on top of the fabric between her legs.
The look on Hannah's face is priceless.
Grace chuckles just enough to make her blush, and this is so far from nothing.
This is the opposite of nothing.
This is an arm crawling back to Hannah's shoulder, a playful eyebrow perking up slightly, and that smile - just a hint, inviting - defiant, even.
Who would have thought Grace could sustain so much eye contact - Hannah thinks.
At this point, there's only one way to end this.
She hasn't even formed her consent in her mind when her fingers start moving, instinctively, rubbing gently against what she assumes is the right spot - the fabric is creasing between her digits, confusing them.
Grace leans in, hiding her relief - because refusal would be beyond humiliating right now - and places a nearly chaste kiss on her lips. Hannah frowns, baffled, because Grace looks impeccably composed. Maybe it's not the right spot after all.
"Don't stop kissing me though" Grace says, effortlessly, as Hannah struggles a little to keep both lips and fingers moving at different paces and pressures. Because their kisses are sweet and innocent, barely a peck after another, but her hand is moving indecently over smooth fabric and a small, but now unmistakably hard nub.
Yet Grace's expression doesn't change as she stands back a little, and Hannah's eyes search hers in hope of a sign that she's doing ok.
"Slow down, you're doing fine" Grace seems to read her mind, her voice is low and just a tiny bit shaky "Be subtle, will you?"
Her eyes move down to Hannah's shoulder, that's now quivering a bit too obviously. Hannah swallows and tries her best to keep the muscles above her wrist completely still, and let only her fingers bend and stroke.
"That's better" the tall woman approves.
But now they look like they're just standing in front of each other, eyes on eyes - and no matter how in love a couple can be, they will look suspicious very soon.
"Talk to me" Grace demands, to which Hannah smiles and looks down because this is about to get even weirder.
"Mh, ok..." she mumbles "so... how do you do it?"
"What?" Grace smiles calmly, and tilts her head to the side.
"How do you keep such a straight face?"
As she says so, her hand slips under the dress, and the cotton panties definitely leave less room for interpretation. Hannah smiles, pleased with her findings. Grace bites her lips, pensive.
"You should know" she replies nonchalantly "I spend most of my time hiding my emotions."
Hannah nods, amused.
"I see. So where do you want to go after... this?" she asks, as if they were having a the most boring conversation, and runs her thumb and index finger along two familiar creases.
"I was thinking we should have lunch" Grace's tone doesn't change, but her hands slide down Hannah's back, pressing onto her shoulder blades.
"What do you fancy?" Hannah's fingers have now stopped, and she's simply holding Grace's clit, causing her to frown.
"I don't know, maybe we should look for a cute cafe with solid wood tablmmmh"
"Mh?" Hannah mumbles while closing and opening her digits, carefully, making the bundle of nerves slide above and below her grip. Grace takes a sharp breath in.
"...solid wood tables and those Etsy lighbulbs with the orange filament" someone who doesn't know her as well as Hannah wouldn't even notice she's talking twice as fast as usual, "offering a wide choice of hand-pressed olive oils and organic fairtr- g-god how do you do that?"
"What?" Hannah raises her eyebrows innocently, and Grace's forehead furrows a bit more - she now looks like she's thinking very hard about where they could go for lunch.
"Or McDonalds, I don't know" Grace concludes hurriedly.
"Are you about to...?" Hannah asks, and kisses Grace softly.
Grace nods in silence, and to a passerby they could look like the just ended a fight, because her eyes are watery and somehow asking for mercy.
"I'll just keep talking then" Hannah states, and moves her index faster while holding her thumb still "on our way here, I saw a tiny restaurant with those red and white tablecloths, have you seen it?"
"Yesss" Grace hisses, and Hannah is pretty sure she hasn't.
"They have empty wine bottles as candle holders, and a chalkboard with fifteen different types of cheese."
"M-mh" Grace hums a vague approval - she's still managing to look quite composed, despite her eyes darting up from time to time.
"And I'm pretty su-"
But Grace is kissing her now, hard, breathing heavily into her mouth. One spasm of Grace's thighs, and a hand pressing on her back to hold her closer. That's all.
Grace finds herself on her tippy toes, and lowers herself back on her heels - panting slightly while a thumb is still gently tracing circles to keep her on a high a bit longer.
Hannah smiles like a child who's just won an argument with an adult, and Grace just wants to slap her face and kiss it and hold it between her palms. She clears her throat, but says nothing.
"I give up" Hannah finally says, shaking her head "I don't get you, and I don't care."
Grace smiles bitterly, and moves her hand to cup Hannah's face, stroking both her cheeks with shaky thumbs "I'm sorry, Han, I..."
"No, nah, nope" Hannah objects with a short laugh "your bachelorette party, your choice of fun. Although I really would have liked to see your checklist beforehand..."
"Is that what you think?" Grace's hands fall on Hannah's shoulders.
"Well, yeah" Hannah steps back, "I've been trying to wrap my head around it, and that's my only explanation."
"Han..."
"Look, I get it" Hannah continues "last chance to try, gay friend. It's cool. I'll just... it's cool."
And Grace should've known, really, that she could stop Hannah from talking, but she couldn't stop her from thinking. And part of her understands that she came to that conclusion, but there's another substantial part that is downright furious that her best friend so blatantly thinks she's using her.
"What else do you have in mind?" Hannah continues, "Toys? Roleplay? Bondage?"
"You know what? Fuck off." Grace pushes her to the side and storms off, leaving Hannah looking down at the fake river in a park full of fake monuments.
- - -
Grace has been walking for at least an hour - she turned right a couple of times and crossed a huge road, and that's about all she can remember. She is so angry she almost forgot she just had her first public sex and she's not even sure she got away with it. The couple who walked past them seemed too busy arguing, and the girl jogging was possibly too fast to notice, so maybe she did.
Who cares.
"Who cares about fucking Hannah Hart" Grace tells herself "Pun not intended."
A cold breeze makes her shiver as she realises she reached the river - what was it called again? - and finally admits she has no idea where she is. She instinctively looks around to reach for Hannah before she remembers she is actually running away from her.
Running away. That's stupid.
She just needs to be alone for a little while. She needs to think.
No. Thinking was exactly what this trip was not for. This trip was for having fun and getting drunk, not for sex and fights. She can have that when she goes back home.
Grace leans on the railing - now, this is a real bridge on a real river. Grey concrete, brown-ish water, and screeching seagulls roaming above. No shade whatsoever. The light reflecting on some glass roofs is blinding her and she'd kill for a -
"Coke?"
Hannah is standing next to her, with two ice-cold bottles in her hands and a forehead that looks like a roadmap.
Not receiving a reply, she puts one on the concrete railing and stands close to Grace, so they can both look towards the river.
"How did you find me?" Grace mumbles as she reluctantly grabs the coke and takes a sip.
"There's a tracking app on your phone, we installed it before leaving, remember? In case we got lost? You turned right three times and then left, effectively taking nearly an hour to do a 30 minutes walk."
"Fine, I took the long way. I wasn't going anywhere in particular anyway."
Hannah nods, staring off into the distance. It's quiet there, traffic is a calm buzz on the road behind them. A small ferry packed with tourists floats leisurely below them, and apparently people do visit Paris in November after all.
"Uuh... brain freeze!" Grace's eyes squeeze once as she takes the last sip of her drink, and shakes her head violently.
Hannah snorts quietly, but doesn't look at her.
"Hey..." Grace continues "I'm sorry. Also, you're an asshole."
"Ok" Hannah replies, smiling unwittingly "I'll take that."
"Well?" Grace asks, urging Hannah to add something.
"Ok, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have assumed that... but c'mon, Grace!" Hannah turns towards her, and she looks so lost. "Why? What's going on? This is..." her hand traces labyrinths in the air, "none of this makes any sense."
Grace takes a deep breath, and looks down, nodding. 'Yeah' she thinks 'none of this does.'
She shuffles awkwardly and takes a step back, then just stands - uncertain. Hannah feels her coming closer and instinctively slouches, as if to make herself as small as possible. As if she could disappear. She can't though, and suddenly there's Grace all around her, hugging her from behind, resting her cheek on Hannah's head.
"I'm sorry" she repeats "you're my best friend and I shouldn't-"
"It's ok. Over it." Hannah interrupts. 'Apologising Grace' is something she can't bear. Another 'sorry' and she'll be down on her knees saying it was all her own fault.
"Let's just... stop" Grace's voice continues above Hannah "Let's just ignore what happened so far and get back to your fun-filled program"
Hannah closes her eyes. She's grateful. This wouldn't have ended well, not for her. So good, no more... this. But she also feels a fine thread of hope snapping between her fingers, and a sense of emptiness taking its place.
"Yes, please!" she replies, cheerfully.
Grace smiles - Hannah can feel her cheek changing shape against her scalp - and squeezes her shoulders one last time.
"Thank you for being so patient" she says, and her voice is barely audible.
So much that Hannah pretends to ignore it, and lets herself be held for another second before shuffling. Grace takes a step back, and for lack of a better option, she wraps her arms around herself, looking at the pavement.
"So, still hungry?" Hannah asks, "that place I mentioned is still not far. You literally walked around in circles."
"Alright, I'd be the first to die in the Hunger Games, we all know that! And yes, I'm starving." Grace replies, jokingly, and maybe they can do this.
"Let's go then!" Hannah goofily jumps twice before settling on a brisk walking pace, and Grace can't help noticing how this girl always manages to make her feel comfortable, even in the most embarrassing situation. If this were someone else, she wouldn't have the face to look into their eyes. But this is Hannah. And Hannah somehow always  makes things easy.