Original Fiction: Brookie part II
Well, FINALLY I post part 2. The first part has long been deleted. I promise not to get upset if this one is deleted, but I honestly don't see how it would. Happy reading!
The sun had never shown so bright before. The curtains draped in front of the glass did very little to obstruct the light from falling on the bed. It bathed them in a soft blue-tinted light. Intense, yet not as intense as the scene it illuminated.
Brooke had her head resting gently on the chest of her friend. She slept so peacefully, exhausted from the heart-pounding, breath-quickening activity of the night. To her, she looked so very peaceful. Her expression was that of a young girl that had never wanted for anything other than this moment.
She could feel her light, sweet breath against her flesh and her long, silky hair trailing down her forearm. It tickled a little as her chest lifted to inhale. It didn’t bother her though, not at all. She enjoyed the sensation, indeed all the sensations she was feeling. She lay there taking them all in: their skin pressed together in delicate bliss, their breath matching rhythm purposefully, the low rumble of the respiratory system at work, the smell the strawberry-scented shampoo mixed with lavender perfume. Never before had either girl experienced such bliss. She was so far gone into elation that all her senses were heightened, overloaded, and born anew from the sensual and erotic position in which they lay.
God she’s beautiful she thought. She couldn’t help but shift her head slightly to see Brooke’s form laying tenderly on her’s. Her sweet face came into view, and she paused to admire her fair features. Dark eyelashes spread out evenly, minute nose positioned in the center of her face, delicate cheeks tinted a slight pink, sublime lips only slightly parted...looking at them was heaven. Her gaze traveled down to the slender neck, and she took in a deep breath. What a sight! Its sleek muscles streamlined and self-proficient, undulating, creamy color sensitively fair, touched off with a radiance hitherto unseen, invited her lips to press against that flesh. It was indeed difficult and almost physically painful to resisted such temptation, but she endured it so as not to awaken her. She tried to distract herself with the collarbones that ran gracefully from her slight shoulders and converged at her nape. She tried to lose herself in the alluring cleavage that marked the approach of voluptuous breasts, which were so vexingly pressed against her.
Brooke’s whole body, her whole being was sensitive to occasional movements. The smooth surface, only interrupted by the insubstantial protrusion of shoulder blades, prompted her to run three fingers down the crevice that span the length of her silky back down to the two small dimples that were placed just below the waist. But she stopped almost immediately, for she stirred.
Mary could not help but blush deeply at this. The way she had said it…the breathy quality given it…the intensely truthful nature that sleep brings…it all made her heart skip several beats and made her squirm beneath her unconsciously. But this only caused Brooke to continue mumbling.
"….no……you’re…mmph…..so comfy….this way…."
It was more than she could bear. Her heart would not stop beating against her throat and her breathing would not make itself even. Gradually Brooke began to awaken as her tranquil sleep was disturbed by her lover’s erratic breathing and pounding heart. At first her hand twitched involuntarily; then her eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly. As it became more and more apparent that she was waking up, Mary longed for her to continue to lie on her even when awake.
Brooke gripped the bed sheets and pushed her upper body up off Mary a few inches. Her eyes slowly focused and narrowed. She looked at the slender body lying submissively beneath her, then she looked into brown eyes. Comprehension dawned in her expression, and suddenly Brooke’s cheeks flushed with what appeared to be embarrassment. For a moment it looked as though she would leap from the bed and deprive both of them of the extreme comfort only moments ago they had shared. But instead she kept her eyes firmly fixed on Mary’s, eyes locked for several moments, as if they had never quite seen each other before. In the moment they shared this connection the building could have burned down around them and neither would have noticed or cared.
A bird began chirping outside the window. The sudden high-pitch noise startled them both, and they looked away from each other, both blushing immensely. Mary’s insides burned with embarrassment. In that moment she wished simultaneously to encase Brooke in her arms for all eternity and to melt away from the scene quietly. Both options sounded very tempting.
Her mind wrestled with itself, the two sides ebbing and flowing, jockeying for dominance. It made her head hurt a little, though not as much as her heart hurt. Finally deciding on neither, Mary dangled her legs over the side of the bed and looked for something to wear. She didn’t particularly like laying around without any clothes on, but she felt a little less awkward now because she was not the only one who was nude. She had known this the whole time their eyes locked, but had worked very hard to ignore the fact. Instead she concentrated on trying to find a clean pair of jeans to wear. As she was doing so, she glanced over at Brooke unintentionally. She was in the middle of dressing as well. Mary looked at her despite her efforts not to. She couldn’t not look at her, so she instead tried at least not to stare. But just then, Brooke raised her arms in the air to slide on her shirt, her chest pushing foreword, creating more volume to her voluptuousness. She couldn’t help but stare. Her firm appearance and natural curves made her body something to marvel, a model for a great sculpture. No wonder everyone says she’s the hottest girl in school she thought. Watching her body move that way, her muscles working beneath the skin, arms extending above her head, chest rising with her breath, eyes closing slowly, cheeks flushed with color, hair gliding across her back…it all made her forget what she was doing. She stopped midway through reaching for her dresser.
And she was caught. Once her shirt was fully pulled over and off her head, Brooke glanced over at Mary, perhaps to check on her. Their eyes met once again. Once again Mary tried to look away, but couldn’t tear them away from her sensual body. She had to look, and she did. Then, for one terrified moment in which her mind was finally able to think, Mary feared Brooke would hate her. She was staring, staring like so many men before her… Brooke would certainly think of her differently now. The thought of never again holding that young girl in her arms all night long and to wake up with her body resting on her’s was almost too much to bear. It was enough to force her eyes away, to look down at the leg of the dresser. She remained unable to move a muscle however, suspended in reaching for her clothes, stuck in a half-bow as if apologizing for some unknown grievance.
Her mind was a raging storm. The flow of processed information was disrupted somehow. Facts and images scrambled in her brain, mixing and distorting like a hodge-podge of random memories. She closed her eyes tight, partly trying to restore her thoughts to normal functioning and party to stem the tears that had filled her eyes to the brim and threatened to spill over. Eyes shut tight, body slightly numb, it was a soft sound that finally caught her attention. It was Brooke’s lovely voice speaking to her, calling out her name.
"...Mary…it’s okay…you can look…"
She refused to believe it. Although the shock of the timid voice was not enough to make her open her eyes, it was enough to restore control over her the rest of her body. She grasped a hold of some jeans and slid them on, quite forgetting about underwear altogether.
"We’re gonna be late for school if we don’t hurry."
They dressed in silence, Mary much too afraid that speaking to Brooke would cause her to look at her again, which could lead to more staring. Brooke…maybe it was because she had heard a cold note in Mary’s voice before.
By the time they had finally dressed, they only had a few minutes to run off to school. Mary’s parents did not question why Brooke was still there. For once Mary was glad that they didn’t have any concern to spare for her. They didn’t know about her lesbian tendencies, and she had no intention on telling them. Hmph…as if they even cared at all. For a split second she contemplated kissing Brooke now, right in front of them, just to see if they would look past their own lives long enough to notice they had a daughter, but it was concern for Brooke’s feelings that made her abandon the plot. She didn’t want her to think she was some trophy, or the means to some revenge scheme.
As soon as they walked out the door, however, Mary took Brooke’s hand in hers. She couldn’t bear the thought that she might be mad at her. Holding her hand gently and interlocking their fingers as they stood on her porch, Mary looked directly into Brooke’s eyes. Brooke looked back into hers.
"Brooke…I’m sorry-" she began, but was cut off.
"No, I said it was alright if you looked, and I meant it."
The tightening feeling inside her stomach subsided gently. She saw the raw honesty in Brooke’s eyes that had always been there. It made such emotion rise in her chest, and because of it she couldn’t speak. She nodded instead. Brooke smiled and started to walk down the pathway, leading Mary behind her.
There were a lot of other teenagers out walking to school as well. Backpacks slung over their shoulders, faces set in resignation to Wednesday morning, they moved like zombies, aimlessly roaming the streets. Many walked alone, some in pairs, and a few in whole groups. Mary and Brooke were among those who were walking in pairs, yet they were the only pair of females. A few of the more awake teens noticed them walking together, hand-in-hand. Mary felt her face burn through the early morning chill. She decided not to look at any more of them.
Although she had felt uneasy on the way there, the feeling worsened as the school came in sight. More packs of students were filed on the sidewalks, chattering and yawning and texting and laughing. She had thought it would be easy to get lost in the crowd as students jostled together, trying to funnel into the front gates of the school. But to her great surprise, many of the students made efforts to stay at least a foot from the couple. It gave her an odd feeling. She tried to keep her eyes focused on the front doors, but occasionally some movement beyond her peripheral vision would catch her attention. Since she could not ignore the sideways glances and slight smirks, she decided not to care. She gripped Brooke’s hand a bit tighter and walked on.
It was like that all day. But, unwilling to cave in to pressure, she did for Brooke what any guy would do for a girl he liked. She walked her to class, carried her books, held her hand, bought her lunch, and met her after school to walk her home. She felt a bit foolish for doing this, and often wondered if she still would have had no one been paying attention to them.
There were a lot of people paying attention. Brooke’s popularity reached almost every corner of social life on campus. Her beauty was universally known, and some of the male students could be seen comparing various other female students to Brooke. No other girl came close. Those lucky male students with PE the same period as her were often scolded severely for trying to peak into the girls’ locker room. One was even caught cross-dressing while trying to infiltrate the changing room. His camera phone was confiscated. The focus on Brooke extended beyond the male student body. Many of the girls often made up excuses to distract her, and then searched her bag for clues as to what beauty products she used. Though her preferred brand of perfume remained a closely guarded secret, her brands of lotion, chap stick, and foundation were soon widely adopted.
The school day came and went by without much incident, despite the many and almost continual stares. There were snickers, and whispers, and even a few outbursts of laughter. But each time anything extreme like that happened, Mary would give the perpetrator the most contemptuous gaze she could muster and wrap her arms around Brooke tightly. Brooke didn’t respond to this action very much. Mary guessed the added attention their relationship caused was annoying her. Mary had never seen her angry.
The final bell rang at 2:24 PM. Mary shuffled out of Spanish very disgruntled, having just endured a one hour lecture on how "beautiful" the language was. She honestly hoped the whole language would just implode. The only thing that had kept her sane for the last hour was the thought of walking Brooke home. She waited for her in the locker room hallway. Many students pushed past her, each heading for the direction of the front gates. They looked a bit foolish, as though playing a game of follow the leader. She laughed to herself under her breath, then turned her head to look for her Brooke.
She came out of the music room just halfway down the corridor. She had her backpack over her shoulders, and she was carrying her violin in her left hand. She hadn’t noticed Mary yet. Her head was turned, obviously conversing with the person next to her. It took Mary a few moments to recognize him as Drake.
Her insides instantly seethed with hatred and anger. What is that bastard doing near Brookie? she thought feverishly. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see past the throng of jostling bodies. She was looking for some sort of clue as to what they were talking about. Whatever it was, it was apparently very funny, for at that moment Brooke tilted her head back, smiling and closing her eyes, obviously laughing. Mary’s fist clenched, shaking slightly, knuckles white, nails digging into flesh. She took no notice however. She was completely engrossed in the jealousy and rage and other unbecoming emotions inside her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew Brooke would not approve of them, but she couldn’t help feeling them, nor did she try very hard.
"What the hell!?" she demanded as soon as the pair was within earshot.
"What do you mean "what the hell"? We’re just talking."
"I thought you said he" she pointed one shaking finger at Drake, "was annoying you! I see, so you lied? You strung me along, eh?"
"What are you talking about? You’re being ridiculous Mary, just calm down. You don’t own me, I’m entitled to laugh with whoever I want."
Brooke gave Mary the most indignant look she could muster. Her face set in determination, eyes flashing dangerously, cheeks slightly colored in frustration, she stared directly into Mary’s eyes. Mary was not in the any kind of mood to realize the danger in this. She merely stared back unblinkingly. In a huff, Brooke turned on heel, grabbed a hold of Drake’s wrist and stalked off in the other direction, nearly dragging him stun-faced with her.