(Rose)
B - You’re not Rose. I’m not Blue; yet here we are, their promise true.
This ans, ‘’make the step’’, from her to .
She’s naked and stepping inside the dark oily bath.
It looks like witchcraft is about to begin, making a little uncomfortable.
She’s offering her hand to take, to join her in the odd gift the squishy and sticky friends left for us.
I’m really unsettled.
It doesn’t look like a healing spring at all, but I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
If evil can look innocent, hiding behind a naïve mask; then certainly kindness and innocence can look disgusting.
It certainly does look gross.
The soft acrid sll of warm ink doesn’t help, since it’s not quite a delicate and precious fragrance. Nonetheless, I appreciate our friends gift, and Bleue’s invitation to wash ourselves. Even though we might need to wash ourselves again after.
I have days of sealife stench to wash away from myself and her, assuming this ink can actually help with that.
Well. If the disgusting look of it is the only reason not to, we should be fine trying it out. Worst case scenario, we have a stream of clear water right outside. But given what they last said, I expect this bath to have so additional healing properties.
anwhile, I rest gently my hand in Bleue’s and step inside the lukewarm bath as well. It’s weird, but not bad.
R - I hope they didn’t lay any egg or anything like that in that bath.
Bleue laughs, and we slowly sit deeper inside the dark bath. By the empty window, the sunlight gets inside gently.
Our skin is stained darker like a deep tan, but we do get a good scrub and wash too.
Bleue keeps tickling , and trying to mimic the octopuses, squeezing the skin on my arm or leg. In the end she just hugs tight from behind, telling she loves . I can feel that. I love her too. Even though I’m not used to this kind of warmth really.
It feels like we’re playing in sepia ink. She still kisses my neck, leaving weird lip prints.
You’re affectionate with . The soft touches make my heartbeat rise.
Soon there will be more for us.
~
We dry ourselves with rags in the bathroom, dimly lit by the light creeping in.
We do feel a little rejuvenated, or really good at the very least, following this weird bath.
Our clothes are still drying from their previous wash, so we don’t wear much more but underwear for now.
As we go outside, we realise that our skin has turned fully sepia black. It will probably wear off over ti. Our hair is smoother and more beautiful than it ever was, inked and glossy black now.
R - Who might you be?
B - What about you?
I notice that our scars have lted in less noticeable patterns. Our skin really has changed.
R - As long as we don’t turn into sea creatures...
~
We stay there for a day longer. The dark colour fades in a few hours under direct sunlight.
With all this ti to care for just ourselves. On Bleue’s lead, to discuss love and sex mainly.
I’m slowly opening myself to that, even though it still feels sore to . That kind of affection from you.
B - Without you, I’m not much. But with you, so much more.
R - You are too romantic... My ideal self is as well. As was Blu as well. But you’re right about the fact that we aren’t these ones we have mories of. We’re not Elizabeth and Louis the 2nd either.
B - You’re so right.
So she says, as she kisses my cheek with her still dark lips, curved in a slight smile.
B - Being romantic can be delicious and soft, but I want to enjoy what is beyond the thrill and fear that makes us romantic as well. I know what they say of the dangerous sea of passion leading away the cities of Tendre. I’m still sure we can just live as ourselves honestly with the right balance.
R - Though both of us could use a push toward passion first, is that right?
I have no clue what these cities of Tendre are, but it’s probably a taphor for my attitude.
B - Well of course! We discussed the matter before. And I can’t put it more bluntly than by stating again, that I want to make love to you.
I spit and cough, partly choking for a few seconds. It was hard to get it more bluntly why indeed. Or it would have beco vulgar.
R - A little part of , that is steadily being silenced by ti, by you and by other parts of , still sees you as my little sister. With all what it rightfully implies.
B - Let blow this candle light for good please. Not that incest between us could bring any degenerate offspring, we never were sisters by blood. They were not, and neither we are.
R - Well... They were cousins, not that it would matter to you hm...
B - What matters to now is that you had two lovers already, that we love each other a lot, and that I’m oddly still a virgin.
R - Why do you say oddly?
B - I’m not sure. It’s just a slip or lapses. But don’t try to change the subject Rose! Nothing is left to stop you...
Except lingering care and mories of my British education and culture, and lingering nightmares of the flesh from my childhood. It’s because our love had this kind of purity in complete contrast to my rape and nightmares that it ant so much for ... It helped rise and survive.
It helped Rose, a long ti ago...
I can’t deny so of my rising emotions when she deliberately acts lascivious against . She knows how to tickle to make weird emotions rise now. Bleue’s offering herself to completely and I still can’t take the fruit.
It’s getting difficult to resist.
The sight of why I should resist is gradually vanishing in a blur.
R - So you’re a little jealous of ...
B - A little yes. And slightly annoyed as a romantic person, that your first ti wouldn’t be with but another woman. And then a plant! No less! Beastie...
R - Ey!
B - Your endless indecision is ticking off now... If we’re too prude to do anything but write poetry to each other for years to co, I’ve had enough. Just kiss darn it!
I’m about to burst out laughing as Bleue is letting her emotions slip off. She’s getting flushed and wild now, and that’s quite a funny sight.
I pull her closer to by her arm, grab as gently as I can her neck, holding in my breath to keep myself composed, and kiss her lightly.
She makes little squirms soon after as my tongue cos to brush hers.
We’re catching our breath back a mont later. She’s flushed to the ears.
B - I wish... You’d done that to ages ago.
R - Rose lived by Mary’s ideal. Mine has beco less pure and candid now... Because of you, witch.
She laughs at that.
B - Witches are stronger than princesses. Looks and wealth have no aning to us. All I want is to be free they say. All I want is to be with you, and to experience all that love can be with you as well. I an that kind of love of course.
Emphasis on that. How much you’ve grown... I should bereave my phantasmagorical little sister, for the woman in front of isn’t exactly the picture of that sweet dream.
Step by step, I’ve co to accept it.
R - If you want to experience everything I’ve done with Ann, alright. Though I really didn’t feel good about it afterward, we can try. However if you want to experience everything I’ve done with Blu... Oh my, I will be ravaging your body, you realise that?
Here goes poetry. Well, she’s the better writer from us two.
As she’s still sitting onto my lap, she distances herself slightly, surprised, and aroused I can tell.
B - Oh my... Rose... yes, I do.
~
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