Discordant Harmony - 1. Chapter 1

By Lily Gilding

Wendy had never fallen in love so slowly.

To her, love was something you knew, right off the bat. It hit you with all the subtlety of a city bus, and left you with just as many impressions. Now that she was older, she realized that point of view may have been why she was left in the wake of one heartbreaker after another.

But, after she had sworn to never love romantically again, it happened.

Claire had been her friend since junior high school. She was always the practical one and Wendy knew her friend found her views about falling in love to be, in a word, annoying. Claire was cautious whereas her reckless friend was about ready to dive in. Claire was pessimistic whereas her oblivious cohort saw nothing but good things for the future. Claire planned nearly every move when Wendy wanted nothing more than to leave everything to fate. They should have mixed like oil and water from day one, but they managed to find an odd sort of harmony with one another.

Claire knew just what to say when Wendy was getting overly emotional, whether to calm her down, cheer her up or just keep her grounded. Wendy sometimes cheered Claire up, although those instances were much more rare than hers. Claire had always looked out for her, even when Wendy had told her to “butt out,” and had always been there to help pick up the pieces. Sure, she’d go and try to beat up the bitch or bastard that had broken her heart in the first place, but otherwise Claire was a nice person.

At least, in Wendy’s eyes.

Then again, the patience that rivaled a saint’s and the gentleness Wendy saw all the time was something only she saw. To everyone else, Claire was stubborn and rudely silent unless she saw a reason to talk. Her tongue could be sharp when she did talk, and it used to get her into trouble when she talked back to the teachers and whoever else pissed her off. Claire's own parents hadn’t known what to do with her. (As far as Wendy knew, Claire hadn’t spoken to them since she moved out.)

She dressed darkly, too, all year-round. She wasn’t quite Goth, oh no. She was happy with one piercing in each ear and hated makeup too much to go that far. Still, nobody would confuse her for the kind of happy-go-lucky, fashion-conscious girl that Wendy was. Claire gave the impression of someone you shouldn’t mess with, or provoke with a simple “hello,” and the tattoos on her arm (her “sleeve,” as Claire called it) enhanced this perception. Sadly, most of the time she really wasn’t the type to give you the time of day. It took a long time for Wendy to realize it, but Claire had been making exceptions for her for a very long time.

And once she knew that, Wendy knew there was no way she’d see Claire the same way ever again.

The muttered words of comfort, all the times she had endured a hug and even gave a few, and the way Claire had always been there were cast in a brand-new light. But, if Claire really cared about her that way, it gave Wendy pause. It brought up questions of how she felt about her friend, ones she had difficulty answering.

She had always loved Claire, but was she in love with her? Was she willing to turn the warmth of friendship into an inferno of desire on an assumption? Moreover, would Claire even accept her love, knowing her history with the feeling? These questions and more haunted Wendy for nearly a year before something happened to tip the scales in love’s favor.

Wendy’s other friends had noticed her contemplative funk, and were determined to bring her out of it. They took her to a popular bar, a place well known for its hot men and great lesbian pickings, which was bound to have plenty of Wendy’s type milling around. What she didn’t know was that Claire had been invited, and was waiting at the bar at her friend’s request. When Wendy arrived, she was urged to make her way through the crowd and go get drinks for everyone. About halfway there her eyes gravitated to one end of the bar, only to land on a familiar face as it glowered at someone that was getting too close for its owner’s comfort.

Her heart nearly stopped beating. Someone was trying to take her Claire away. Some thieving jackal was going to take her grumpy, reticent, caring saint of a woman!

Wendy moved without thinking, feeling almost like a visitor in her own body as she made her way to Claire’s side.

“Hi, honey!” she shouted, wanting to be heard over the loud music. Claire looked in her direction, mild shock then relief showing for the briefest of moments before it was covered with seductive smile. Wendy got close enough to wrap her arms around Claire’s neck, cooing as she felt the embrace being returned.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, sweetie. Traffic was terrible.” She pouted as she turned to the intruder, giving her a baleful glare as she said, “Who’s this?”

Claire chuckled softly before she said, “No one important.” Wendy then felt a hand under her chin, turning her head to find Claire closer than she had ever been before. Wendy didn’t even have time to gasp before lips fell over hers.

She moaned. Wendy didn’t know when Claire had become such a great kisser, but she was. Her legs were turning to jelly and she didn’t even care.

She tightened her hold on Claire, trying to give as good as she got as the kiss went on. And on, and on. Until Wendy thought she was going to pass out. But Claire ended it just in time, holding her up as they both caught their breath. They continued to hold one another, foreheads touching as their eyes locked. Wendy saw something then, an emotion in Claire’s eyes that had been carefully hidden until that very second.

That settled it. It would be next-to-impossible to go back to being “just friends” after this. Her uncertainty lingered, but that amazing kiss and Claire’s embrace felt more "right" than anything she'd ever known before. After checking to make sure the interloper was long-gone, Wendy took the initiative.

“I think we need to talk.”

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© 2010 Lily Gilding (b.bampton@att.net)

Proofread/edited by Young Sage

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