MARBLE & SALT (Lesbian)

Chapter 4 (Part 1) TEA FUNGUS: RELISH AND HALE

"Uhh, would you like something to drink?"

Why does she intimidate me if she saved my life? Maybe she didn't want to help me, and she just killed strega who had entered someone else's territory, and I simply happened to be there. The witch saw that she could play with me, just like a cat with a mouse: she lets the rodent go, looks at the victim running away, gives it a false sense of control and freedom for a moment, then grabs it again, and then again, and again, until she gets bored...

"What do you have?" She looks extremely interested. Being in her arms makes it difficult to think about anything. It is such a new sensation for me, when I feel both scared and bewitchingly pleasant, and I am experiencing that very sensation when my brain is totally turned off.

"What about some tea fungus?" Lord, why did I say that at all?

"What the hell is this?" she even let go of me. The girl is examining me, holding my shoulders.

"Well, I thought that the witches... you are a witch, right? What I know about witches is that you drink all sorts of potions, and the fungus is the most suitable thing in my house," I stammer. It seems to me that I am about to die of shame. I have never made the dumbest assumption before.

The girl laughs in a barbaric way, throwing her head back. As for me, I have no idea how to behave in her presence, shifting from foot to foot.

"Fine, I'm intrigued! Let's drink your witch's potion. But if you try to poison me..."

"I know, I know. You'll kill me," I mutter back.

The witch looks at me in surprise, as if it was not she who threatened me a minute ago.

"That's not what I wanted to say ..." she began in a hushed voice.

"Shall we go?" I pretended not to hear her. "The kitchen is there."

I hesitantly took her hand (slightly cool to my skin), and led her to a tiny hall towards the kitchen, away from a large double bed with a white lace-like headboard...

The witch happily intertwined her long fingers with mine and followed me, walking springy as if we were two little girls who were going to the playground (Almost like Dasha I when we were kids). Passing my neighbors' room, I was relieved to notice that no one was home. Their newly acquired night absence ceased to amaze me now.

The tea fungus. This beast in a three-liter glass jar has been dwelling in the kitchen since the very beginning. Most likely, it remained from the previous tenants (survived them?), since neither Danya nor Dasha admitted that the mushroom creature was their "pet". So, it continued to live in the kitchen like the mascot of the apartment or, rather, like an evil pale homunculus, whom we periodically fed (let's be honest, we just poured loose tea into the jar when we were too lazy to flush wet tea leaves down the toilet). The tea fungus grew surprisingly well. No one, of course, drank its infusion, but we didn't dare to throw it away either.

Why didn't I just offer her some tea like a normal person? And I am sure we have chocolate waffles somewhere in the cupboard... I am trembling a little, maybe because of the draft that is oozing from the open balcony, but more likely I don't want to embarrass myself in front of her.

"Well, where is your wonderful fungus?" She squeezes my hand slightly, "Oh, and who is this cutie?"

Having removed the veil of my thoughts, I finally saw Danya, who hunched like a black shadow of Quasimodo, looking for something in a dark refrigerator (the light bulb there burned out a long time ago, but Dasha assured us that if we replaced it, we would start eating more, which would have a bad effect on our health, more precisely on her figure).

I freeze. Now he'll hear me, and he'll turn to us. And what should I tell him then? How can I explain to him why I stand in the kitchen in the middle of the night and hold hands with a stranger?!

"Jeez, Vel! You shouldn't sneak up on people like that! I thought you were sleeping!" Danya almost drops a thin piece of sausage from his mouth. "Wld-you-lke" he says with a full mouth, handing me a sandwich in a package, that was probably bought on his way home.

I shake my head. The witch hugged me from behind and rested her chin on my shoulder, enjoying the whole awkward situation.

Now he will definitely ask me about her... Of course, he will ask me... "Danya, this is my old friend who stays here for a couple of days" or it's better say, that she is my second cousin on the paternal side, yeah, sure, my sister, who's is giving me very "family" hug!

"Couldn't sleep, either?"

"...?" I can't understand what he's saying.

"Couldn't sleep?" The light in the windows of the house across the street helps me to understand that my friend is looking only at me, and he does not notice a cheeky smiling face on my shoulder and her arms wrapped around my waist.

"Yeah."

He does not see her, and he does not hear her! Just like the guys in the club who have not seen the strega!

"Alright, I'm not going to embarrass you in front of him. I will be waiting for you in the bedroom," the witch whispers to me and slightly bites my earlobe.

I twitch. Goosebumps are running all over my body again, accompanied by a sweet fluttering feeling in my lower abdomen.

"But don't be too naughty with him. Well, don't start playing without me at least."

"I didn't even think about it!" I blurt out. How could she even imagine me and Danya together!

"Uh?" Danya turns on the kitchen hood, without even bothering to turn on the light. Heck!

"I didn't think you were at home!" I'm improvising, watching the witch, who is slightly swaying her hips, disappearing into the darkness of the hall.

Am I really out of my mind? I am the only one who sees her! Is it a brain tumor? Schizophrenia? I've heard that schizophrenics can see speaking numbers.

Danya is sleepy, so he doesn't notice how my tone changes. There is little hope that he will go to his room now to eat there or start his midnight meal feeding the mosquitoes at the plastic table on the balcony: he is putting the pan on the stove to fry yesterday's elbow mac and cheese.

"Join my late night meal!" the guy offers good-naturedly, turning on the gas to the maximum like in some hell kitchen.

For the first time in my awful week, he's doing what he usually does. I would love to relax now and sneak a fried crusty elbow, and tell him what an unrealistic horror dream I saw: about witches and ghosts, and we would both laugh at it. He, too, would have come up with some kind of story with an incredibly stupid vulgarity, far-fetched and at the same time insanely funny. But I want her and her embrace that promises me only pleasure.

It was still embarrassing: he is my friend who always supported me, but instead of not missing the chance and improving relations with him (and at the same time persuading him to repent before Dasha, even if there is nothing to repent for) and finally return to our old cart with the fifth wheel, which used to roll so merrily over the bumps of life. But I choose Her and my unexpected base instincts.

I head towards the fungus that resembles some cut off organ of King's monster. It's not too late to just make tea or coffee and bring it to my bedroom on a tray. But I promised to treat her with the fungus beverage... What if I really poison her? Deeevil...

I take the glass jar and lift it with difficulty, trying not to drop it.

"What are you doing?" Danya drops the fork on the floor in surprise.

"Better watch your mac and don't burn the kitchen down. I want to place it in my room, it's colder there."

"Why on earth are you so moved by the fate of the fungus? I hope you didn't come to the kitchen in the middle of the night just to replace this creep," He's looking at me the same way he was looking at me in the bathroom, as if I'm some kind of nutcase.

"Good night," I say dryly. "Don't forget to turn everything off when you go to bed. If you and Dasha spoil something here, your parents will always be able to pay for any damages, in my financial case it will be easier to sell my soul to the devil."

I turn around and walk away as fast as the weight of the jar allows me.