Chapter 35: Unrequited

Claire didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but what she was experiencing wasn’t that.

Unlike her first experiences weaving Mae, first pushing so much of whatever raw energy Weavers used in and then tangling so many threads around her fingers, she wasn’t able to observe it with any level of removed, external detachment. When her lips found Belinda’s, and their passions intermingled, Claire was drawn in just as deeply and irresistibly as Belinda herself.

Hot lips burned against hers, but it was so much more than that. She could feel the raw enthusiasm, the deep, Sapphically-driven pull towards Belinda, but in the same moment she could feel the reverse pull just as strongly.

Just as she savored Belinda’s lips, Claire felt her own lips, and couldn’t escape how much passion Belinda felt for her.

Years of silent passion, silent desire, and something more… a patience, a stubborn decision, a deep timeless truth, pulsed just as strongly inside of Belinda. Claire couldn’t understand every slight aspect of it anymore than she could understand every aspect of the knots and the tangled, throbbing threads inside of her mothers, but she felt the same bliss from it, the same joy at awakening a part of herself that felt like it had been waiting for so very long.

She’s wanted me for as long as she can remember…

And I was always just looking at other girls, running back to her for support. She was always there to soothe me, to protect me, to love me. I was there for her, but while ignoring her at the same time…

There wasn’t any room for sorrow to take hold while their lips were still mingling, and then when Belinda’s lips parted there was even less room for anything but joy.

I’m not the one making her do this…!

This is her passion… This is what she wants… coming out to meet me… coming out to ask to mingle with me…

This is the first time we’ve ever really communicated…

Belinda moaned into Claire’s mouth, and their tongues were lost in movements that neither could control on any conscious level. Where one body ended and the other began was the same division it had been before, the same division that had always existed, but it was different now. There was an altogether different indistinct blur that made that division so much less important even if it was every bit as present.

Claire could feel the many places her touch had shattered Belinda apart, but the many pieces of Belinda’s mind weren’t scattered anymore. Instead, they were held together with still burning passion, passion that acted like mortar between the many bricks of the young woman’s mind.

Not only was it no longer broken, but it felt so much more powerfully sealed together than it had before. Claire couldn’t imagine the bonds breaking apart again, but she had no desire to try.

I don’t want to make Belinda my slave… or my pet… or my toy…

I want her to feel how I feel… just like… Claire quivered, moaning lower into Belinda’s mouth as her own hands clutched tightly at Belinda’s shoulders without her knowing how she’d found them. Her passion drove her, and Claire surrendered to it. Just like I felt when I asked out Elizabeth…

Just like I felt when I said those words to Sophie-mommy for the first time…!

Claire wasn’t the only one moving. One of Belinda’s hands found Claire’s hair, laced through the back, and squeezed it painfully tight. Claire moaned louder into Belinda’s mouth, and then louder still when Belinda’s hand suddenly grasped and squeezed at Claire’s ass.

When did I… straddle her… waist… I…

Ohhhh fuck yesss…!

Less a blank, and more a swirling vortex of passion, Claire couldn’t recall when she’d moved or how. One moment she’d been leaning over her comatose friend, and the next she was mashing her chests down against her lover, kissing her with all of the tender passion that she could find.

The division between them was blurrier and blurrier, and their lips rubbed that much more insistently. Their tongues moved ceaselessly.

Belinda’s fingers moved over the entirety of Claire’s ass, and when they were satisfied they’d explored that, they reached between her legs and rubbed at the damp heat they found awaiting them. Claire’s eyes opened wider, but she was lost kissing Belinda’s lips and bucking her hips back to Belinda’s touch.

Feels like she’s feeling me… inside… and out… like she’s… making my lantern burn… so bright… she isn’t… a candle herself, she’s different, she’s… not… threads… not a lantern, something… ceaseless, something… almost… not mechanical but moving… so… tirelessly… so… Claire’s eyes crossed as she heard her zipper tugged, and then Belinda’s fingers were moving under her panties, and inside of her before she could do anything but squeal.

Weaving Mae was taking control…

Each movement of Belinda’s long, slender fingers claimed new depths of Claire’s body. It was sexual, it was a touch tingling with so much desire, but it was equally driven by passion sustained for years.

…but Belinda is the one in control of me…!

The kiss broke when Claire couldn’t stop herself from crying out, and their lips were parted. Belinda’s fingers only moved quicker and quicker, her eyes stared into Claire’s. “S-say it again…”

Barely a whisper, Belinda’s voices boomed inside of Claire’s skull and twined around her heart. “I love you, Belinda… I love you… I love you… I lo—mmmphh!” Belinda’s tongue silenced Claire’s impassioned litany. She’d been powerless to stop herself from repeating. Belinda demanded it of Claire, and her passion made it impossible to refuse. The only thing that she could do was yield to it, giving Belinda everything that she could ask for, everything that her passion demanded.

More helpless than she’d ever been to Mae when her mind was merely broken apart, every thread, all of the light of her lantern, all of it in that moment existed for Belinda’s pleasure, for Belinda’s satisfaction, for Belinda’s relief.

When Claire came, lips locked with Belinda’s, she felt Belinda cum with her.

Their urgency faded, and the world melted away for Claire. At first it only felt like the briefest of instants, resting her eyes, but then…

Then she was on her back.

Like before, she couldn’t remember how she got there. It didn’t feel like it mattered, either, but it was hard to know how much longer it was when she awoke, on her back, Belinda nuzzling into her still-clothed chest. Nnnn… Belinda nuzzled again, and kissed over Claire’s still quivering heart. My eyes are still… all… blurry, like I just slept for a week… but…

Belinda purred and squealed, making cute sounds that sounded like a cross between tiny little cheers and kitty noises as she nuzzled into Claire’s chest.

She’s lost in my tits like she’s been awake for the whole time…

It was tempting to leave her like that. Her breasts weren’t as impressive as Mae’s, or Sophia’s, but sitting back and feeling Belinda worship them was delightful. It took so much effort to not moan and wrap her arms around Belinda in an attempt to keep her there forever.

“Morning… Belinda…”

Freezing instantly, Belinda’s eyes met Claire’s. “I thought you were still asleep. Patricia told me that you would be very tired after helping fix my mind…”

Claire blushed, nodding slowly. “I … I only just… You’re… you’re okay right…? I know I couldn’t have made you a lesbian because you already were a lesbian, but I really didn’t want to hurt you, I just wanted to show you, to prove to y—mmmmph…!”

Belinda silenced Claire with a passionate kiss.

It wasn’t a short kiss, or a slow kiss. Belinda’s tongue was in Claire’s mouth almost instantly, and her hands were grasping and squeezing Claire’s breasts. By the time the kiss ended, Claire was gasping and panting.

“You talk too much sometimes, Claire.” Belinda scowled, but only for a moment. Once it passed, she was smiling. It wasn’t a comfortable smile, and hints of pain, worry, or something unpleasant lurked in her eyes, but it was so much better than seeing her looking broken and burnt out. “My dad ran out on my mom when I was young, but you have both of your parents, and they both love you. Why are you always so…”

Claire bit her lip, and closed her eyes tight.

“…Sorry. That wasn’t funny.” Belinda kissed between her friend’s eyes, and then pulled away to sit on the arm of the couch. Claire tried to stop her, tried to lift her arms or whine, but she was still far too exhausted.

When Belinda was on top of her all that Claire could do was try to be cute.

After Belinda pulled away even that was difficult.

Please don’t make me tell you that. Everyone thinks that it’s just because I’m a lesbian disaster who realizes she can get on everyone’s nerves.

What I remember of what happened…

Belinda stroked at Claire’s foot. It wasn’t the warmest of touches, but it was gentle. It was an attempt to show some affection. “Patricia told me you were sorry, and that you brought me here to help. She told me that you told her… everything about your mothers, admitted it all really quickly, so she’d help me. She explained how stupid it was to do what you did—”

“—and I’m really sorry!” Claire whimpered as she interrupted Belinda as quickly as she could. “So sorry! I promise! I didn’t want anything like that to happen…! I panicked, and I—OW!”

Belinda’s nails pulled out of Claire’s ankles when she silenced herself. “I wasn’t done yet!”

Her voice was sing-songy, impossibly hard to take as anything other than playful. That was somewhat tinted by the grooves in the shape of Belinda’s nails still dug into her leg, but it wasn’t impossible to overcome.

Claire blushed, and managed to look to the side to bury her face in the back cushions of Patricia’s couch.

“S-sorry…”

“What I was going to say… was that while you fucked up…” Belinda squeezed Claire’s ankle, but it didn’t hurt. It didn’t feel like it was supposed to hurt. “You… did everything you could to fix it. You prioritized me over… everything else. I can’t remember if you ever did that before. I’ve been waiting for it… for a long time.”

Claire whimpered, and parted her lips to speak before wincing. Silenced, she did her best to wait for more.

Belinda sighed.

“Patricia said she’d give us some time alone. She needed to make some calls… Not to our parents…” Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Belinda smirked, and squeezed Claire’s ankle again. “Apparently she’s a waitress because Nightingales like to have their women ready to hear any juicy gossip the moment it drops, so she was incognito. That means there’s plenty her people will wanna know, and… Maybe they’ll know about this, but it’s hard not to trust them.”

Claire’s face rolled out from the couch, looking shyly up to Belinda. “So she told you… about Weavers… about Nightingales…”

Belinda nodded.

Claire flushed.

“I know it sounds ridiculous. I’m still… adapting to it. It’s all a bit…” Claire felt too tired to even try to gesture. Instead, she just made vague, half-syllables, half words. “I should have told you about all of this. I… wouldn’t have told you about Mae, about Sophie, about—”

“That you’re one hell of a real mother fucker?” Belinda gently squeezed Claire’s ankle until she nodded. “You would have given yourself away eventually. You’re bad like that.”

Claire stared up at Belinda, agape. She stared up at her beautiful, deep, dark brown eyes, her long black hair, and her slender figure that was maybe even a slight bit smaller than her own. She was certainly thinner, slighter in every way, but her personality, her presence, her passion and love and lust were all as loud and sincere as Claire’s.

When she realized she’d been staring, all that Claire could do was hide away her face again.

Okay, so now I’m deeply attracted to a girl who knows all of the ways I suck, all of the ways I’m less-than-perfect, and takes a lot of joy in ribbing on me. She tried not to whine, and failed. One who knows I’ve fucked my mothers. One who knows what a deviant I am.

“I heard a lot because while I couldn’t interact… I was still… there.” Belinda frowned, and looked away, too. Her voice grew quieter, even less confident than before. “I need to… mull over my feelings a bit. I… I really don’t need to tell you this is… not the way I wanted you to find out that I’ve been wanting to be your girlfriend since kindergarten.”

Both women blushed, and Claire struggled with her tired body until she could pull herself to sit up, and move closer to rest her head against Belinda’s shoulder.

“Why didn’t you ever… tell me…?” Claire nuzzled into her arm, letting out a quiet sigh.

Belinda’s blush grew darker and deeper. “I… wanted you to confess your undying love for me, first, so I would feel safer doing it. I was afraid… you’d stop being my friend if I told you that I loved you, if I wanted to be more than your friend who looked at girls with you…”

Claire whined.

“We were always more than that…”

Belinda sighed, and softly stroked Claire’s hair just once. “I know. I was just… afraid. I don’t have your overconfidence. I can’t just do things and hope they work out… Then, you finally asked someone out, finally, and it was Elizabeth?” Belinda whimpered. “I introduced you too… I knew she was… the sweaters, the curves, the… being… tall…”

Claire took a deep breath, and kissed Belinda’s shoulder.

“I don’t need those things.”

Belinda tensed.

“What I need is yo—waaah!”

Belinda rose from the couch so quickly that Claire tumbled off of her shoulder, and down to the floor. It didn’t hurt so much as it was surprising, and humiliating to suddenly be on her back. She couldn’t help but blush, but Belinda didn’t look amused.

She looked hurt.

“Give me my keys… I need… I need to drive for a while, to… to… be alone for a while, to…” Belinda held out her hand, and opened and closed it several times. “Keys. Mine. Now.”

Claire whimpered. “Belinda, you don’t seem like you should dri—”

“Give me my fucking keys!” Belinda shook, tears filling her eyes. “I asked Patricia. She said I was fine, so you will give me my keys before I find wherever you put them or I will… will…” Belinda looked back and forth, and then screamed. “I don’t know what I’ll do but neither of us will like it!”

This feels like a bad fucking idea, but sometimes I don’t want to decide what someone else does…

Claire reached down into her pocket, and tossed Belinda’s keys into her hand.

She snatched them out of the air.

“Thank you!”

Belinda stormed across the apartment, moving over to the door. She didn’t unlock it right away, hesitating. Claire couldn’t speak, her mouth and her throat feeling entirely too dry. All she could do was stare.

When she finally did open the door, she stepped into the open doorway and glanced back at Claire.

Belinda’s eyes were full of tears.

“Don’t call me. Don’t try to find me. Just keep your phone turned on and wait for me to message you… if you really do love me!”

Then the door closed, and Claire groaned.

After she was confident that Belinda would be too far away for Claire to be heard, she screamed back. “This would be a lot fucking easier if I didn’t care…! You’re my business… and I’d do all kinds of things for you… you… beautiful… fucking… goddess!”

Slumped down on the floor, Claire quietly sobbed.

I love her… I love Sophia… I love Mae… I might love Patricia… Loving people is supposed to make the world better, to make things better for everyone…! Claire shook, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hands. Then why do I feel so awful?!

“Oh…”

A few minutes into her crying, Patricia stepped down the stairs and looked down to Claire.

“Things went… worse than we expected…?” Patricia squeezed the hand railing, looking down at Claire with a heart so visibly full of concern.

Claire laughed and shook her head.

“With me involved… honestly…?” She sniffled, wishing that almost anyone besides the drop dead gorgeous milfy waitress was the one catching her bawling her eyes out on the floor. “This is better than anything else I could have hoped for.”

Patricia sighed, shook her head, and made her way over to kneel, and then patted her lap. “None of that. Head on my lap. You aren’t crying alone. We’ve only just met, but I taught you the basics of being a Nightingale. That means you’re like a daughter to me now.”

Her smile was as warm as Claire felt destroyed by Belinda’s absence.

“No daughter of mine needs to cry alone.”

Claire screamed as she buried her face in Patricia’s lap, and stained her dress with tears.