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Until the Blue Hour
Until the Blue Hour

Until the Blue Hour

Okay…okay. The most beautiful and caring woman you’ve ever met came home with you, and she’s sitting on your sofa and letting you pour her wine and feed her grapes. She’s into you, she’s having a good time and Millie likes her. Everything is perfect, so the next move is…what?

Allison thought back to every romantic encounter she’d ever experienced, trying to recall anything that would give her any clue as to what her next step should be. Initially, it seemed like a good idea. She wasn’t the most romantically experienced person she’d ever met by any means, but she’d had more than enough experience to be able to reasonably expect that she could call on it to help her in the present. As logical as it seemed, however, the plan failed both immediately and catastrophically.

Lifting another grape to Remy’s lips, she tried to remember how previous partners took the lead with the hope that she could mimic their tactics but, for some reason, her mind didn’t seem to consider any of the memories worth the effort of keeping detailed records. She tried recalling her thoughts and feelings that resulted from those experiences to deduce how to recreate them for Remy, but it was like watching a corrupted video file or a damaged film reel. There were enough details to follow what was happening as she recalled names, faces and locations, but there was a layer of static over it all that hid the parts that made any of it significant. As she tried to remember why any of it mattered, she couldn’t be entirely certain of the names, the unique features of faces blurred until they resembled mannequins and the locations were just places with names that were easier to recall than those of the people who took her to them. None of it inspired any more emotion in her than it would’ve to remember a trip to a mechanic to have her oil changed.

Gently pressing the grape forward and watching it disappear into Remy’s mouth, Allison let her fingertip linger on Remy’s lip. It was like touching a pillow wrapped in silk, but it sent a wave of warmth through her fingertip that felt as if it was spreading through her entire body. It wasn’t until she saw her favorite burgundy flooding Remy’s cheeks that Allison realized what she was doing and pulled her hand away, though it took considerable effort. She smiled at herself when she remembered her earlier words, again thinking about her assumption that controlling herself would get easier over time. Instead, she noticed that every time she touched Remy, it became more difficult to break contact, every fiber of her being rejecting the loss of her presence and desperately craving more. In that moment of want, a spark of inspiration turned her thoughts back to attempting to remember the past and, in an instant, at least one of the answers eluding her became so blatantly obvious that she couldn’t help laughing at herself for not realizing it earlier. That her memories of romances of the past had somehow faded into insignificance went from being a complete mystery to being the only way that it could’ve ended.

I can’t remember because I don’t need to. I have Remy now. Nothing else could compare.

Remy watched Allison curiously for a moment, her expression carrying a note of caution that reminded her of when Millefeuille would see her eating something and weigh her odds of sneaking off with a bite of it. Realizing what must’ve caught Remy’s attention, Allison took a moment to compose herself before addressing it.

“I was just thinking that I’m still going about this all wrong.”

Remy only looked more confused as she took a sip from her wine glass, but it seemed to pass by the time she’d lowered it again. “Well, we did come here to talk, and that seems like as good a place to start as any. What’s on your mind?”

Right…to talk.

For a moment, Allison felt a pang of guilt as she considered the fact that, as she was acting on pure impulse and desire with no rational thought behind her actions, she couldn’t say with any certainty what her intentions truly were. It wasn’t until she saw Remy’s playful smile behind her glass that she realized that she was once again in danger of wasting time following the wrong line of reasoning again when the answer was obvious. The path she needed to follow was the only one that could hold her interest, the one that brought her closer to Remy’s.

“I was wondering…well…I’ve got you here with me. Finally, we’re together. It’s…it’s all I wanted.”

“But…?”

“But…” Allison thought about how to say what she was thinking, but no amount of rephrasing it made it sound any less embarrassing. “…now that you’re here, I don’t know what to do next.”

Remy set her glass down on the coffee table, looking concerned. “Is this still about wanting me to have a good time?”

Allison shook her head, her eyes cast downward. “No…well, not exactly. I’ve…I’ve never…”

The words caught in her throat, and no amount of force seemed able to dislodge them. There was an inexplicable embarrassment to what she was trying to admit but, more than that, there was fear. It wasn’t until she was faced with the prospect of being open about her intent that she considered the possibility that she may have miscalculated. Feeling a soft touch on her hand, she turned to see Remy’s slowly wrapping itself around it. Looking up, she saw Remy looking back at her with a kindness and worry that showed so much emotion, she almost looked like an entirely different person. Gathering all of the restraint she could muster, Allison leaned closer to kiss Remy’s cheek and then pull away before her body could betray her by going any further.

“Sorry, I…I just don’t really know how to approach this. I’m used to being the one who’s chased, not the one who does the chasing. Not that I mind, I…” Feeling her face growing warm, Allison swallowed hard and forced herself forward before she could falter again. “…I actually like it. I just don’t know how you feel about it. Even if I did, what do I do then? I don’t know how to make someone feel wanted or how to know when to move things forward or tell if what I’m doing is working.”

Seeing the shift in Remy’s expression back to its usual neutral state, Allison began to wonder if she’d already made a mistake. She rushed to correct her course, her voice timid and apologetic. “Sorry…I know I dropped a lot on you there. I…guess I do that sometimes. I don’t even want to think about how many of my rants I’ve made Lily sit through.”

Allison watched Remy fearfully as she looked for signs that she agreed with the assessment, but she simply still looked as if she was deep in thought. “What does she have to say about it?”

With a laugh, Allison noticed for the first time that she wasn’t entirely sure. “I wish I knew. She usually says she…something.” When Remy looked up at her and raised an eyebrow, she added, “I don’t really know what it means. Je…je me’n something.”

Allison looked up in surprise when Remy snorted, seeing her covering her mouth following her failed attempt to hide her laughter. “It wouldn’t happen to have been ‘je m’en câlisse,’ would it?”

With a huff, Allison folded her arms and pouted. “Does everybody but me speak French?”

Remy burst into a new fit of laughter, only managing to stop when seeing Allison’s frustration. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear…well, not at the fact that you’re bothered, anyway. It’s just that…even when you’re mad, you’re cute.”

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While it was true that Allison was feeling irritated, the feeling vanished immediately on hearing Remy compliment her. In spite of her attempts to halt it, her smile spread out of her control as she turned away and huffed again. “Damn it.”

Suddenly looking nervous, Remy cautiously reached out toward Allison. “Really, I am sorry—”

Allison dropped her pretense and took Remy’s outstretched hand before leaning against her shoulder. “I know. It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“I wasn’t done being mad yet.”

With a nervous laugh, Remy gave Allison’s hand a gentle squeeze. “See what I mean? Cute.”

Feeling a need to stall for enough time to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through her before she could embarrass herself, Allison changed the subject. “So, what does that mean, anyway?”

Remy turned away slightly, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “It…well…”

Thinking about what she knew about Lily, Allison laughed as she realized why Remy was suddenly so hesitant to speak. “It’s something obscene, isn’t it?”

Looking as if she was thinking carefully, Remy slowly nodded. “Fairly, yes. I’m sure she meant well, though. I’m pretty sure that she was basically saying that she doesn’t mind if you rant.”

It wasn’t until she felt relief that Allison realized how nervous she was in waiting for the confirmation. With the matter out of her mind, another question occurred to her. “Why do you say you’re ‘pretty sure’ of what she meant?”

“I’m guessing she’s from Quebec.”

“Yeah…Montreal, actually. How did you know?”

Remy looked a little uneasy again, though her smile was beginning to show through it. “If I can’t entirely understand someone’s French, that’s usually why. Things don’t always mean the same thing there as they did in Louisiana, even when the words are the same.”

Allison groaned as she tried and failed to guess at how a word could entirely change its meaning, even over the course of one or two thousand miles. “I shouldn’t have been so lazy.”

“Hmm?” Remy looked at Allison after a brief pause, looking as if her mind was briefly elsewhere. “What do you mean?”

Sighing with slight frustration with herself, Allison freed a hand and reached out to one of the plates she’d prepared before sitting down. “I could’ve learned French in culinary school…actually, I was kind of supposed to.”

“What happened?”

“Laziness happened. Well, not just laziness. If I’m honest, I had too much going on at the time, and I just didn’t have the time or energy for anything else.”

Remy was quiet for a moment before her expression turned curious. “That doesn’t sound like laziness. It sounds like exhaustion.”

“Well…yeah, it was, actually. I was already over capacity on my course load because I was trying to graduate early, and I had to work a couple of days a week on top of that to make ends meet.”

“Then why do you call it laziness?”

“Well, I…” When the words to explain her thoughts wouldn’t come to her, Allison thought about it for a moment before realizing that she had no thoughts to explain. “…I don’t know. Habit, I guess? Aaaaaah…”

Remy turned to Allison, giving a weak smile as she took a bite of the pasta salad she’d been eating earlier. Her expression was heavy with concern as she chewed, looking as if she was taking the opportunity to choose her words carefully. “That really doesn’t sound fair to you, though. How did you end up falling into a habit like that?”

Grimacing slightly, Allison took a bite of the pasta salad, mostly to give herself time to organize a lifetime of emotional turmoil into a single sentence. “I guess you could say that I inherited it, if you know what I mean.”

Much to Allison’s surprise, Remy didn’t look confused or sympathetic. She mostly looked angry. “Better than I’d like to, actually.”

Allison repressed an urge to flinch, not realizing until it was too late that she’d reopened an old wound. “I’m sorry to hear it. Do you…get along with any of your family?”

Remy’s jaw clenched for a moment as she stared blankly into the distance. “I don’t have any family.” For a moment, Allison was confused by the response and wondered what she was missing, something that Remy seemed to notice before continuing. “That’s what they told me, at least.”

Before she could stop herself, shock and horror overwhelmed Allison’s senses and urged her to speak. “They said that?”

“More or less.”

“What exactly did they say?”

“Mostly a lot of colorful words that they think mean the same as ‘lesbian.’ If it wasn’t their way of removing me from the family, then they stumbled on a pretty efficient means of getting me to do it myself.”

The discomfort and sorrow that Allison was momentarily feeling when thinking of her own family was a distant memory now that she was thinking about Remy’s. She wanted nothing more than to hear every sordid detail of what Remy endured and begin building the necessary anger to respond to it appropriately, the thought was stopped in its tracks when she saw the pain she’d already caused by bringing it up at all. Mounting anger was quickly replaced with remorse as she leaned against Remy’s shoulder again. The sensation caught Remy’s attention, and she seemed to immediately understand.

“Don’t worry about it. I just don’t think about it often anymore, so when it comes to mind…”

Allison sighed, not entirely relieved by Remy’s understanding. “Still, it’s not exactly good first date conversation.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” When Allison leaned back to look up at her properly with a slightly startled expression, Remy looked back with a peaceful smile. “It’s not fun to think about, sure, but…it’s still nice to be able to talk about it, at all let alone with someone who, well…understands better than they’d like to. Actually, I’ve been thinking about it since you brought it up, and this has been a perfect date. I never would’ve thought to ask for it, but just being able to sit here and talk to you about anything is exactly what I want.”

Allison wanted to be happy, but the moment was being spoiled by a nagging fear. She couldn’t entirely bring herself to believe that things could be going that well, especially considering that, before that moment, she was certain that she was missing the mark entirely. She looked up at Remy, searching for any sign that there was anything more to consider before accepting her waking dream as reality. She looked into Remy’s eyes and, in an instant, she’d once again found that the answer was in front of her the entire time. Of the ever growing list of things she appreciated about Remy, one of the first to come to mind when thinking of her was the fact that she could be trusted. More than being confident that Remy wouldn’t try to deceive her, Allison was every bit as confident that Remy wouldn’t try to deceive herself. She took things for what they were, viewed matters practically and considered them honestly. On the rare occasions when she shared her thoughts without being prompted, there was no doubt whatsoever that she wasn’t taking saying it lightly. Looking into her eyes filled Allison with a confidence unlike any she’d ever felt, and it was nothing more than habit that pushed the words out of her.

“Are…are you sure?”

After everything she’d just thought, the sound of the question struck Allison’s ear in a way that she could only interpret as a blatant accusation. Before the apology could take shape in her mind, however, it fell to pieces when Remy closed her eyes and playfully stuck her nose in the air.

“Yes, quite. An excellent show indeed, my dear. Your queen is pleased.”

Remy smiled at her own joke, clearly intending to amuse and apparently unaware of the effect her words truly had. When the silence went on a little longer than expected, her eyes opened to see Allison staring at her, eyes wide and misting. Before she had time to ask what she’d done wrong or even lose her sense of amusement entirely, her slowly fading smile was quickly met by Allison’s, the two brought together as closely as their clasped hands.