Chapter 9

9

TATIANA

T atiana feels her phone vibrate, just as she's pouring wine into her friend's glass. She sits back down to check the message, surrounded by the lively chatter of her companions.

Tomorrow 10 at my studio? – Ellie.

Tatiana adds the number to her contact list, before responding, Am or Pm?

She puts the phone back, listening in to something Connie began saying. The phone vibrates again.

Am, very funny. The address is Pearl St, 284.

Tatiana turns the word Pearl over in her mind, delighting in its sound. What a good omen, she thinks, finally able to enjoy the conversation.

"So as I was saying," Connie excitedly exclaims, to the numerous hushes reminding her of them being in a restaurant, "All love is just desire wearing fancy clothes."

Tatiana watches everyone's reaction, thinking the proposition over.

"No, I don't think that's true," Tatiana says. "Sometimes it starts out this way, sure. But you can't tell me that the old couples we see strolling down the park alleys, picking out flowers for each other despite their hurting backs, are in love based solely on desire?"

"No, but if it started out that way, isn't it its core?" Connie asks, pouring herself more of the ruby red wine.

"No, maybe the core fluctuates?" responds Tatiana, spinning the slippery spaghetti around her fork.

"No, I think it's just that. Sex. Sometimes you fall for the most unexpected person, why? Because you want their dick," she concludes, making the table laugh wildly. Tatiana smiles, compassionate. Everyone knew Connie's affair with Terry was a matter of weeks, besides Connie herself, apparently.

"I just feel so old. Like, I'm thirty next week, and I still keep running around in circles," she sighs.

The table quiets down, everyone relating the sentiment to themselves, measuring the degree to which their own lives correspond. Marcel, invited last minute by Tatiana, almost hid his engagement ring under his plate.

"Alright, thanks for the reminder, Connie," Tatiana jokes, trying to lighten up the mood.

Truth be told, she began noticing these thoughts float around her own mind, feeling that her unstable dating is unbecoming for her age. Remembering her parents' family life at 28, she often sinks in embarrassment. On the other hand, hers is a different generation, with its own customs.

"Let's all get dessert," Marcel suggests.

–

Back in her bedroom, undressing to shower, Tatiana remembers her appointment with Ellie. She sets up an avalanche of alarms to be released in the morning, praying to whatever has the power to let her be on time. Her recently deepening habit of sleeping in began getting on her nerves, very un-springlike. She gets in the shower, and the water drops hit her back in a pleasant massage, relaxing the tense muscles. She sings little fragments of songs to herself, content with her place in life, even though quite unsettled romantically.

–

The violence of alarms hitting her ears makes her regret every choice she has made up until this point. She tries shielding herself from the flood of sounds, but to no avail. Looking at the time, she understands she needs to hurry up. Reluctantly, she gets on her feet, sleepy and disturbed.

"This is no state to create," she mutters under her breath, picking out underwear from her overflowing drawer.

She grabs an apple and a pre-bought cappuccino from her fridge, checking the way to Ellie's studio. Tatiana is decidedly not a morning person, which she always thought only added to her artistic personality. Perhaps she was wrong.

The stream of words running out of the radio makes her dizzy so she turns it off, welcoming the quiet. In silence, she drives towards Pearl Street, already lamenting the lack of spaces to park. She decides to call Ellie.

"Hey," she decides to get straight to the point, "where can I leave my car?"

After finding out that Ellie's studio comes with a parking lot, Tatiana is in a much better mood. Ascending the stairs, she's not even mad about the lack of an elevator.

–

"Hi," Ellie welcomes her, opening the door. "You're almost on time!" she mocks. She is smug and perfect.

"What do you mean, I am on time."

"It's 10 past 10, but that's perfectly fine," Ellie says, letting Tatiana pass through.

"I supplied the studio with another chair," she adds, showing the way.

Tatiana stands for a moment, taking the space in. It's a simple, wall-less space, entirely committed to letting in as much light as possible. The gigantic windows flood the room with light, the space remains uncluttered—she can find only a simple desk, a pair of easels, and a cabinet for supplies.

"You're insane," Tatiana concludes. "How do you even keep this space so clean?"

Ellie smiles proudly, holding tidiness as an important value.

"To be fair, it is quite new. But I like to keep things neat," she admits.

Tatiana shakes her head, approaching the desk. There are some sketches lying around and printed pictures of the gallery room they'll have available for the project. She sits down, taking some in her hands.

"Have you already started thinking it over?" she asks, slightly annoyed at herself for not doing the same.

"Yes, you can see all the sketches I made. I think it would be nice to incorporate the space into the process, since we're in the unique position of knowing where we'll exhibit."

Tatiana nods.

"So, what do you think of painting the same spaces, but each of us in our own style, then exhibiting them back to back?" she suggests.

"That's a bit banal, don't you think?" Ellie stops and glances at Tatiana, "I'm sorry, that was unnecessary. I just think maybe we should do something more original."

Tatiana shrugs, not particularly attached to the idea either way. In truth, she's not good at conceptualizing her art, she usually allows herself to go with the flow of her creation, not predicting or planning anything.

"Listen, I'm not good at this," she says. "I usually go with my impulses."

"That's okay," Ellie smiles. "I do the same. I rarely plan my work."

They sit still, not sure how to conceptualize a collaborative project this way and still give it their unique essence.

"How about we blend our work in a unique way," Tatiana suggests, "by painting the other's sketch?"

Ellie sits back, pondering. She keeps playing with the rings on her fingers, twisting and turning them around. Tatiana sits transfixed by them, the seemingly measured and controlled intervals with which Ellie touches each ring.

"It is a pretty simple idea," she admits, "but I think it can grow into something interesting."

"We shouldn't paint landscapes," fires Tatiana, suddenly certain of the course their work should take. "That's too obvious and we choose similar subjects anyway," she adds.

"Oh, that's interesting," Ellie puts her head in her hands, ready to listen.

"I have some barely started or barely conceptualized work, I'm sure you do, too," Tatiana continues. "We can make an exchange and thus fuse the art into something completely new."

Ellie seems to consent to the idea. Tatiana feels relieved, wanting to work on the paintings already, instead of spending hours on debating the concept. She feels her best when actually painting.

"Should we meet another time then, with the sketches ready?" Ellie asks, looking around her studio. "I don't know if I have a lot of suitable ideas. The last one…" She pauses.

"The last one?" Tatiana prompts, surprised by the sudden pause.

"I grew kind of angry with it, because of you, to be honest."

"Because of me?" Tatiana laughs. "How so?"

Ellie goes to the easel holding her waterfall painting, turning it around to show Tatiana.

"It's not my style. It feels aggressive and influenced by you," she says, almost accusatory.

Tatiana gets closer to the roughly begun painting. Its vibrance indeed seems to resemble hers, but she feels slightly offended by the suggestion that her art is merely aggressive .

"Is that what you think about my art, Ellie?" Tatiana turns to look at her. "Solely aggressive , solely bold , maybe?"

Ellie sits down, tilting her chin towards the ceiling in an act of resignation.

"No, Tatiana, no, that's not what I think. Why can't we let this silly bickering go?" She returns to looking back at Tatiana. The abundant light colors her eyes particularly bright, making them gleam pleasantly from Tatiana's face. Ellie smiles delicately.

"You look very pretty in this light," she says. "Blooming."

"Oh," Tatiana blushes. She can't believe how easily Ellie can get her to do that. "I'm still offended at how angry you are to resemble my style," she add as she shakes fluttering thoughts away, still standing by the canvas. "I mean, the painting is nice."

"Nice?" Ellie scoffs. "It's nothing, and I don't want it anymore. It looks like every brush stroke was made with strain, heavy, full of effort."

Tatiana shakes her head. "I disagree," she says.

"Ah, stop it." Ellie gets flustered.

She gets up from the chair and joins Tatiana in inspecting the painting, hopeful to gain some new perspective that would save it in her eyes. Getting close, Tatiana's scent swirls around her nose. She stands only inches away from Tatiana's neck, seeing all the little unruly strands of red hair escape her band tied tightly around it, an endearing detail available only to those close enough. The strong, woody perfume overshadows the natural scent of Tatiana's skin, but not entirely. Craving to feel the warmth of her skin against herself, Ellie stands even closer.

"What are you doing?" Tatiana asks, in a slightly teasing tone.

"Getting closer to you."

The naked sentence pleasantly shocks Tatiana's ears.

"Why?" she asks, turning around to find herself face to face with Ellie, separated by barely any distance at all. The tips of their noses almost kiss.

"Because I smelled your perfume," Ellie licks Tatiana's bottom lip gently, then continues, "and I felt I needed to feel more of you." She gets back at licking, tracing along Tatiana's lips.

Tatiana feels like she might combust there and then on the spot. She feels a familiar excitement buzzing between her legs.

"Oh yeah?" Tatiana's hands run along Ellie's thighs, all the way up to her ass, circling.

Ellie lets out a quiet sigh, almost into Tatiana's ear. Hearing Ellie moan gets her off more than she imagined. She grabs her ass tighter.

"Yes," Ellie nods, mischievous.

"Feel me then." Tatiana's hands find the pants' zipper and pull it down. She slides the pants to the ground and spreads Ellie's legs a bit further apart.

"What are you doing?" Ellie whispers, curious and thirsty for touch.

Tatiana slaps her ass lightly.

"Be patient," she shakes her head. "I didn't get much of you last time. I want to, now."

She gets down on her knees in front of Ellie, pulling her pussy towards her face by holding her ass tightly. With Ellie's underwear still on, she starts slowly licking it up and down her lips, feeling the material get moist on both sides. She puts more pressure, burying her face in between Ellie's thighs.

"Spread them wider for me," she asks. Ellie follows suit.

"Oh, you like being told what to do?" Tatiana grins into Ellie's wet pussy.

Ellie shakes her head.

"When you do it, I feel such a mixture of feelings it really turns me on." She runs her fingers through Tatiana's hair. "It's like my mind has no idea what to do, so my body takes over and gets horny."

"I like that," Tatiana chuckles. "I want to eat you out on the table."

She gets up from her knees, giving Ellie's ass another slap of encouragement.

They get to the table, and she pushes the drawings aside as Ellie lays down. Tatiana removes Ellie's underwear finally and begins working with her tongue, circling and sliding. Ellie tightens her grip on Tatiana's hair.

Her legs begin dancing around Tatiana's head, thighs pulsing with the sweetest rhythm. Tatiana speeds up, ever so slightly, feeling how wet Ellie's gotten right in her mouth.

She lifts her head up.

"You're so wet for me, honey"

"Just fuck me, please," Ellie utters, horribly taken out of the rhythm.

Tatiana climbs on the table, laying right atop Ellie.

"I'll fuck you to death, and I want to see you die right next to my face," she says, kissing Ellie's lips. "Can you taste yourself?"

"Mhm," Ellie nods.

"Good," Tatiana says, reaching in between Ellie's legs.

Ellie spreads them out greedily, begging to be touched. Tatiana begins tracing them with her hand, without any rush, with a feather-like gentleness. Sometimes she gets almost close enough, but then her fingers make another detour, torturing, infuriating.

"Please, fuck me," Ellie moans, wet and spread out on the table.

"Should I?" Tatiana teases, fingers rolling around on the delicate skin.

"Yes," Ellie nods, desperate.

Tatiana's fingers finally seem on the right track, sliding around and finally, she lets one finger into Ellie.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, please."

She slides in the second one, moving only slightly, still only teasing, looking deep into Ellie's hungry eyes.

"Do you want to get fucked, Ellie?"

"Yes, I'm begging you," she moans.

Having heard what she wanted, Tatiana gets to work. Her agile fingers know their way around Ellie's body surprisingly well, stretching her out and pressing with a steady rhythm. Ellie's voice sounds particularly pretty when moaning, Tatiana thinks, looking at the hardened nipples through Ellie's shirt.

"Take the shirt off for me," she instructs, as her fingers continue to fuck Ellie.

Ellie struggles but follows through, exposing herself obediently. Tatiana gets closer and starts licking Ellie's nipples while fucking her, feeling for her G spot, tongue tracing little circles on her nipples, her thumb against Ellie's clitoris.

When Ellie's thighs begin shivering, she knows she's close. Her head bends back, and she cries out loudly as she squirts filling the palm of Tatiana's hand.

Tatiana smiles to herself as Ellie Matthews, the ethereal goddess comes apart for her fingers.

–

Laying together on the table, the two cuddle, watching the street stretching outside the gigantic window. Their legs lay intertwined, Tatiana's head next to Ellie's chest. Their breathing flows steady and deep, unified.

"Well, it's nice we can lie here this time," says Tatiana after a while of silence.

"True," Ellie admits. "I was feeling kind of bad to leave you on the cubicle floor last time we fucked.."

"Yeah, I was feeling kind of angry about that, I think, but I just pushed the feeling away," Tatiana says. "It's a vulnerable thing."

They hold each other closer, each thinking her own thing. Tatiana's back begins hurting from lying on the unforgiving surface, but she tries to ignore the discomfort. There is something infinitely calming for her in Ellie's arms, something she doesn't usually get from hook ups.

"I like your studio," she says.

"I like it too." Ellie smiles. "It's exactly the way I imagined when I started art school."

They fall back into the soft embrace of silence, but it doesn't feel unnatural. Their silence feels right, filling in the space between them like a pillow. Looking at the time, Tatiana realizes she soon has to go.

"Ellie, it's 1pm already!" She disentangles her limbs, looking for a graceful way to slide down from the table. "I have lunch scheduled with someone for 2:30, and I still need to change," she says, more to clarify the plan to herself rather than inform Ellie about the details.

"You still have time." Ellie gets up too, only now beginning to feel the consequences of lying so long on the table. She puts her pants back on, struggling to zip them back.

"Tatiana, you broke my zipper!"

Tatiana looks up, in the middle of tying her shoes. She grins.

"Sorry!"

They both laugh, suddenly realizing the absurdity of their relationship. Each feels a little bit younger when around the other, and their sex brings much refreshment to both of their lives. Tatiana gets up from the floor, her shoelaces tied, her bag hanging from her shoulder.

They share a brisk kiss, a quick goodbye, and she's on her way. Her steps remain light, and the perspective of working with Ellie is no longer a daunting one.