Chapter 13

13

TATIANA

T he hairbrush keeps fishing out small tangles in Tatiana's long unruly red hair. She pushes it down with more strength, ripping out a few strands. Today is her grand vernissage—she only learned how grand the vernissage is going to be very recently—and it is marked by her hair being in horrible condition. Otherwise, she feels at peace. When she forces every thought of Ellie far away from the track of her thoughts, she feels at peace.

The last few days, Tatiana has been contemplating the collection deeply. She looked through all the artwork combined, Ellie's and her own, and thought it to be a truly perfect blend. Feeling confident about the art allows her to be in her element during the opening.

While getting dressed, she finally has to admit, as well; the unanswered calls, still somewhere at the back of her mind, give her some additional confidence. A little ego-boost, a taste in her mouth so sweet she can almost ignore its sickly aftertaste. At the time, she regretted profusely leaving them abandoned, she craved hearing Ellie again, maybe even apologizing, which does not come to her easily. But now, she feels over the affair —this she repeats like a mantra. She feels excited to open her exhibition and lets herself be proud of the work that went into it.

–

Uncharacteristically exactly on time, Tatiana finds the perfect parking spot, almost by the entrance. Gathering herself, she sits for a while behind the wheel, watching the early guests enter. Some friends, some journalists. When she catches a glimpse of Ellie's figure by the entrance, she freezes. Tatiana realizes that she hasn't seen Ellie in person since the argument. Her things from the studio were brought to her by Fred, all the details settled by email. The feelings she thought were dealt with suddenly resurface, flooding her calm demeanor with a storm. The winds of memories tug at her confidence, waves of longing storm the shores of her stoic approach to the situation. The same figure that used to embrace Tatiana warmly, kiss her lips tenderly, laugh with her for hours—that same figure is standing right there, talking to someone, smiling invitingly. Tatiana makes an effort to push these unruly feelings back down, deciding this is not the time nor space for a dissection of her romantic situation. She is going there as a professional artist, looking to present her work and forge new connections, she tells herself, feigning confidence. She is going there as a professional artist, who would never hook up in a gallery's bathroom, she smirks to herself going up the stairs.

She can see Ellie handling some introductions and tries not to think too hard about it. She will only try to keep her distance, as naturally as possible. The assistants walk around with trays full of glasses, swift and graceful. Tatiana turns around, looking at the works of art hanging, gloriously, on the walls. She feels proud, truly proud of herself and of Ellie, whatever relationship they may have now, for completing such a big project together. In a moment, the time to make the opening speech together will come, and in preparation Tatiana decides to drink up one glass. There aren't many guests yet, everything stands half-full. It's difficult to perform this dance of avoiding Ellie at all costs, a dance that she's been dancing for a while, with only half of the room full. She didn't make a conscious decision to avoid Ellie; in truth, she thought herself over the situation, capable of having a casual chat with her. That turned out not to be the case at all, as if around Ellie grew an electric field, able to shock her and tangle all the particles inside of Tatiana. Once they get on stage, her proximity will be unavoidable, she realizes. Her citrus scent and the quiet dangling of her earrings will be just a few steps away, certain to tease her memory and stir some deeply hidden sense of regret. A group approaches her, and she is infinitely grateful for the offered distraction. They ask about the process, the art of collaboration, the purpose. It's a group of students writing an article on the importance of artistic collaboration, and they are desperate to get a quick interview. Tatiana agrees and tells them her perspective.

"Art forms like painting can be very individualistic, which has a good and a bad side. I think it's wonderful to see a singular person's vision, just laid out on the canvas, but of course, there are downsides of always creating alone."

"What did you find the most rewarding, painting the project with someone else?"

Tatiana looks around, subconsciously looking for Ellie.

"Oh, well… One can definitely learn much from the experience. Possibly gain a new perspective to view one's own art, one's own approach." She nods. "It all depends on the pair, to be honest. I think collaborations are something we should practice from time to time, to diversify our artistic experience."

She excuses herself after this conclusion, feeling a slight distaste towards her words. She doesn't believe that an artist necessarily should be doing anything. The only responsibility of the artist, in her mind, is to do their art justice.

She half-heartedly engages in conversation here and there, checking her watch frequently to see how much time she has left until the dreaded speech. The hall is slowly filling up, relaxing her nerves a little. The sea of people dressed fashionably flows beneath her paintings, and the scene looks quite glamorous, making her smile.

At last, the time comes.

Ellie and Tatiana make their way to the slightly elevated part of the room, and the light focuses on them sharply. For a moment, it seems as if the world is beyond the two, in the halo of light, Tatiana stands singled out with Ellie against the mass of shadow-covered figures, and time seems to slow down for a moment. She feels a spark of desire to take Ellie's hand for encouragement, followed by the sobering realization of their current estrangement. Both of them seem to have been dancing the same dance, both avoiding each other's gaze, passing around only a quiet hello. The entire affair seems hopeless to Tatiana, something gooey and unpleasant.

Ellie begins the speech, something they outlined together to be concise and to the point.

"We want to thank everyone who made this exhibition possible, especially George Kirsch," here she points to George, and a round of applause fills the space for a moment, "and the wonderful staff of the gallery."

Here Tatiana takes over. She clears her throat before elaborating upon their project's vision.

"We had the honor of being approached by Mister Kirsch, due to the rising interest in our work—something we're infinitely grateful for. The idea is simple: to expand our artistic horizons, we completed each other's old, unrealized sketches. The process proved strenuous, " she couldn't help but give Ellie a glance, "but after all, we're both proud of our work and excited to let you explore it for yourselves. Enjoy your evening!" she finishes the brief speech, showered by a thunder of applause. Ellie and Tatiana nod their heads courteously, then disperse once more into the crowd, floating away from each other with a subtle urgency in their steps.

Walking around, Tatiana notices a group of young artists gathered around one of the paintings. She approaches, curious to hear their opinions. The painting is one of Ellie's, depicting one of the swimming pool scenes. It's a pastel-colored affair, large swaths of delicate blue enveloping a little girl. Her swimming cap is dreamy pink, matching the pinkish skin tone. She stands at the edge of the pool, looking down at the glistening water, pondering whether to jump in. The painting grips Tatiana's heart a little, seeing the characteristic brush strokes around the pool's edges, softening their harsh corners. Ellie painted this work while they were still together, and Tatiana remembers distinctly painting something right next to it. Ellie joked about the little girl looking a bit like a shrimp with all the pink tones, and they both laughed for ages about it.

To get her thoughts away from Ellie, she finally gets closer to the group to listen into their conversation.

"I like the juxtaposition of the pink with blue," says some girl, not older than twenty. "I think the girl looks like she's about to move, which adds a certain dynamism to the piece."

Overall, Tatiana gathers positive feedback, and leaves the gathering to their own devices. She realizes that she's cruising and decides that the only way to stop the useless floating around is to finally have a conversation with Ellie. Otherwise, she will spend the whole evening dabbling in the weird mixture of craving to see her and avoiding it at all cost; a pathetic state she wants a way out of. She takes a deep breath, and bravely seeks Ellie out in the crowd.

In her way suddenly stands Fred.

"Tatiana! I haven't seen you in so long," he says as they embrace warmly. "I simply adore the paintings. Will elaborate soon, for now—how have you been, for Christ's sake?"

"Oh, you know," Tatiana sighs, a bit ashamed of getting out of touch with him. He is the person she associates the strongest with Ellie, so talking has been difficult.

"Anyway," Fred says, perhaps intuiting it to not be the best moment for conversation, "I'm looking for Thomas, I lost him somewhere. If you want to know, Ellie is in the corner over there." He points to the other end of the room and winks. It's clear that he wants to see the two back together.

Of course she's at the other end of the room, Tatiana thinks to herself, shaking her head. Ellie can be unreasonable and infuriating, but her ever-flowing sensitivity would always bring out something soft in Tatiana. Something tender, like the kisses they shared in her brightly lit studio. She walks along the walls exhibiting the fruits of their artistic union; her ideas painted by Ellie's hand seem so intimate and embraced, they seem complete. Even though their idea was simple, it birthed something truly beautiful, both conceptually and visually. Her eyes feast on the sight for a moment, letting the crowd roll around in the foreground.

She spots Ellie's head from afar. Making her way towards the spectacularly dressed figure, she can feel her heart sink a bit deeper with anxiety, but she keeps on walking regardless. She's determined to focus on her feelings and let them speak, instead of eluding them like usual. The two exchange glances, and she nods for Ellie to come over. They haven't truly spoken to each other in three weeks, and standing face to face, the atmosphere feels tense. Tatiana clears her throat, trying not to let Ellie's eyes distract her.

"Hey, Ellie," she begins, "Congratulations on the exhibition."

Ellie looks at her a little suspiciously but responds in a kind tone.

"Congratulations to you too," she says.

They begin smirking, the corners of their mouths dancing. Tatiana can feel the warmth they recently shared rekindle almost instantly, diminishing the built-up distance between them. So strange, she thinks, the way she simply feels at home when hearing Ellie's voice so close, no matter the circumstances. They look around the crowd, as if to find a neutral anchor to tie their conversation around.

"Lots of people here," Tatiana adds in a casual, inviting tone. Her muscles relax, and she feels like she's floating atop the current of their conversation, not trying to control anything, and not trying to seem artificially indifferent. She is not indifferent. She feels each word deeply.

"True. We must be pretty good painters," Ellie says, and they giggle at the miserably bad joke. That's the beauty, though, the way they don't require much to make each other smile, throwing around bad jokes just to make the other laugh.

"I think you're a pretty good painter, Ellie," Tatiana shifts her tone towards something a little more sincere. A little more open, hinting at a willingness to actually talk. She feels relieved that their current conversation doesn't revolve around the breakup, as if being suspended above their recent falling out.

"I…" Ellie seems to notice the shift. "Thank you, that means a lot. I mean it."

She looks to the painting closest to them, one of Tatiana's.

"You know… I never, ever, wanted to make you feel like a lesser artist, or a lesser person—" she smirks, remembering, "Alright, maybe the first time we met, perhaps a little bit then."

They both share a quiet laugh, reminiscing about the dinner that set everything in motion. The way their argument sparked something between the two, perhaps being the exact reason why they feel so drawn to each other. One form of heat can birth another, it seems.

"Mhm." Tatiana nods, eager to see where the chat takes them. She feels reassured, less by the words and more so by Ellie's intentions. It seems she actually put effort into thinking how her actions affected Tatiana. At least that's what Tatiana hopes to learn.

"I want you to know, that whatever happens, we might go our separate ways, or stay friends—" Ellie's voice breaks a little, she glances at Tatiana to see whether the break was noticeable. Tatiana doesn't betray that it was.

She feels something gluey and heavy in her chest, thinking about being friends with Ellie. Imagining that she would have to see her around and not be able to give her a quick kiss, invite her over and fall asleep entangled together in a loving mess, or take her out on dates that would turn into hours upon hours of conversations. This mud in her chest weighs her down, drowning out any words she might've wanted to say as a response.

"Either way," Ellie continues, "I want you to know that I cherish you very, very deeply as a person, and I will work on myself for you no matter in what way you'll remain in my life," she stops before saying the unimaginable, "if you decide to remain in it at all."

Tatiana turns her head away, afraid of crying in the middle of her exhibition, afraid that if she keeps looking at Ellie she actually might. The words touched her to the core, and now, hugging her own shoulders, she has no idea what to do with herself.

"Can you hug me?" she asks before she has the chance to think it through.

Ellie's green eyes soften, and she takes a step towards Tatiana. Her perfume overwhelms Tatiana's senses, reminding her of the many nights they shared, welcoming sleep in a mutual embrace. She extends her face a little and touches Ellie's lips, only slightly, only a gentle brush.

"What are you doing, dear?" Ellie asks, looking around, nervous.

The guests assumed it only natural for the pair of artists to be emotional at the culmination point of their collaboration, and a faint drizzle of applause greets them. Ellie and Tatiana began nodding with appreciation, silently laughing to themselves about the context of the situation. They disentangle themselves from each other, exchanging looks with various friends watching, bowing a little to the journalists and art collectors.

"We just can't stay away from each other at exhibitions, huh?" Tatiana says.

"So it seems." Ellie shakes her head.

They spend the rest of the night conversing with the guests, telling little anecdotes about their work, and making new connections in the world of art. The lightness they both got from their conversation proved very useful during the exhibition. For both, the event will necessarily bring much publicity in the upcoming weeks, further accelerating their careers, offering a string of exciting opportunities. Tatiana feels on top of the world, from time to time turning her head to discreetly watch Ellie. She feels every handshake of Ellie's, and every smile, with a deep sense of untamed affection. A sea of longing to reunite waves about her head, a thing she has no idea how to deal with later, once they part, once they go back to their single lives. She simply allows herself to feel everything tonight, to get carried by her feelings and see where they take her. Taming them, she realizes, will only make her bitter and unpleasant to be around. Taming them will only prove full of strain.

The gallery slowly empties, and their acquaintances group around them, asking impatiently about an afterparty. Ellie and Tatiana made sure to think it through before and reserved a table at a nearby club. Both, however, could read in each other's eyes a growing hesitation. They let everyone know the address and said that they need to finish gathering their things at the gallery.

"We‘ll join soon," Ellie reassures everyone.

Once the group is out the door, Tatiana is all over Ellie's lips. They drink away from each other all the uncertainty and miscommunication, they feed each other with thirst for something sincere and uncomplicated. Their bodies have been craving each other for a long time.

"We should get the hell away from here," Tatiana whispers to Ellie's ear.

"True," Ellie agrees, and they leave the gallery.

The air outside is crisp and fragrant, the park nearby spreads the various scents of summer around. The street is entirely empty.

"Let's walk for a minute," Ellie suggests.

"Sure."

They walk, holding hands. Their pace is slow and appreciative of the evening, but something clearly hangs between the two women. Tatiana understands that to simply go back to their old ambiguous relationship is not something either one would want.

"Let me say something," Tatiana begins. "I came to you that afternoon in a rush, right after a conversation with my friend. She really hyped me up to confront you about that silly house painting. I'm not saying she was wrong. I think what you did really upset me," she stops for a moment to think the following words through. "But I was never even imagining breaking up," she confesses. "I didn't want to look like a fool later when you suggested it, so I simply agreed. That was dumb."

She stops and takes up Ellie's hands. Their warmth only encourages her to continue, the pulsing skin of her beloved.

"I truly care about you. Tonight, I felt so silly. I was just walking around half-scared, half-craving to see you."

Ellie laughs gently.

"I was doing the same thing," she admits, kissing Tatiana lightly on the lips.

"I think," Tatiana gets to the less pleasant part, "I think that if we commit to changing certain things… I definitely need to work on my anger, for example," she breathes in, shakily, "but I think that if we work hard, we will do well as a couple. I would like us to do well as a couple."

Ellie nods, visibly relieved.

"I would like that very much."

They embrace tightly, not letting each other go. Tatiana begins rocking them side to side, in a calming motion. She gets closer to Ellie's ear.

"Do you want to go back to my place?" she asks.

"I do," Ellie answers, grinning into Tatiana's hair.

They get into Tatiana's car, and drive through the emptying streets.

"Oh my god," Ellie sighs, "We forgot about the afterparty."

"I didn't forget about anything," Tatiana answers casually, "I wasn't going there."

They laugh and let the simple joy of sitting next to each other fill them up entirely.

–

Once home, they begin kissing before either has even the chance to take off her shoes. The emotional turbulence they have endured throughout the day melts softly into a rain of sizzling desire, plump with tenderness and longing. Ellie begins taking off Tatiana's coat, lips still locked together. Tatiana chuckles.

"Let me take off my shoes, darling," she whispers, for a moment letting herself out of their tight embrace.

They take off their coats, their shoes, lay down their purses. Each motion carries with it the delicate scent of the night's gentle seductions. They're careful not to cause abrupt noise, two performers in the house of desire.

Tatiana takes Ellie by her hand and leads her to the bedroom. The window, left slightly ajar, lets gentle breeze into the room. Ellie brushes hair from Tatiana's face, laying kisses on her forehead, cheeks, finally getting to her lips and playfully teasing with her tongue.

The women lock once more in a kiss, this time less gentle and more fiery, they're almost feasting on each other's lips, taking off their dresses, and hungrily falling towards the bed.

Tatiana can feel her legs getting impatient, the blissful tingling around her thighs makes her cling to Ellie tighter, feeling her skin against her own in an act of confirmation—she will get what she wants, sooner or later. They delight in their bodies fitting into one another, their ancient dance feels fated, embraced by the moony glimpses of night.

Ellie is on top, sliding down Tatiana's body to lick her nipples with a teasing lightness. Tatiana's hips grind, unashamed to show how badly she wants to be touched, to be possessed by Ellie's hands, tongue, mouth, only to be had by Ellie. She begins to tremble lightly with anticipation, at first determined to tame it, but after a while giving in entirely.

"Oh, I see what your legs are doing," Ellie whispers, laying her hand in between Tatiana's thighs, still in her underwear. She keeps on licking her nipples, while her hand holds Tatiana's pussy steadily and in no rush to take off the underwear, feeling the material get more and more wet. Tatiana's hips force themselves stronger against Ellie's touch, pleading.

"Please," she whispers.

"Of course, darling," Ellie responds, laying her lips once more against Tatiana's, and sliding her underwear down. She moans with pleasure a little, feeling how deliciously wet and ready Tatiana's pussy is. She feels every part of her vulva, then begins circling around her opening. Her fingers are still a bit cold, making Tatiana shiver a little.

"Do you want me inside?" Ellie asks, teasing.

Her fingers begin sliding in, only an inch, only half a fingertip in, then they slide out immediately. This sets Tatiana's body aflame, desperate to finally get fucked.

"I do, I do," she nods, her eyebrows tightly knit and mouth open. "Please fuck me," she begs.

"Alright." Ellie slides in three fingers, feeling Tatiana's pussy stretch to accommodate her. Tatiana gasps in her delightful moaning voice, glazed by bliss.

"Oh yes, please," she moans, setting her legs wider apart.

"Good, good girl," Ellie whispers into Tatiana's ear.

She keeps the steady rhythm that always brings Tatiana to the shivering, head twisting moment. Then once she is there, she pushes the rest of her hand inside Tatiana just like she did that first time. She grabs Tatiana's wrists and puts them above her head, which lets little whimpers out of Tatiana's mouth, nicely open and soft.

"Keep your hands there," Ellie commands.

Tatiana begins moaning louder, putting her thighs together, twisting away.

"Tatiana look at me," Ellie says, a little out of breath. "Open your legs," she commands.

Tatiana does what she's told, feeling on the edge. Ellie's hand knows the rhythm and is restlessly working, bringing Tatiana to tears.

Tatiana knows she is close, very close. She feels a finger from Ellie's other hand teasing her anus and she feels overwhelmed with her own excitement.

Ellie owning her body and fucking her every which way excites her like nothing else.

"Please..uh.." she moans as Ellie's finger pushes deep inside her ass and it feels like the most incredible thing she can imagine.

"Come on, come for me," Ellie says gently.

"Can I?"

"Yes you can." Ellie fucks her a bit more strongly, making Tatiana cry out, tensing up her thighs and face.

Tatiana feels all her nerves tied up and twisted around Ellie's hand and finger stretching her pussy and her ass. Then, she feels her orgasm building and building unit it tips over the edge and crashes around her; she relaxes her legs, looking sheepishly at Ellie. For a moment, they don't say anything, only curl up together under the sheets, breathing heavily and holding each other's sweaty bodies.

Tatiana gets very sleepy, a habit they both used to laugh about as something likening her to a man after her orgasm,

"I'm so sleepy," she yawns. "That felt good."

"That felt very good," Ellie kisses her forehead, feeling slightly tired as well.

"I love you," Tatiana murmurs, hopefully.

"I love you, too." Ellie smiles and her smile is like the sunshine.

"I think I need to shower, though."

"Yes, let's shower," Tatiana decides, shaking her head to wake up and starting to get up from the bed. They enter the bathroom, laying gentle kisses on each other's lips. Ellie takes Tatiana in her arms in the hot stream of water, and they stay that way for a while, simply feeling each other breathe, feeling the subtle movement of each other's chests. They share a very wet kiss, bathed by the abundance of water and comfort, leaning on the shower's wall. They can read from each other's eyes the feeling of being home.