Midnight Tequila | Holy Trinity

Chapter Twenty Three

"Now, be a good girl. Hold your underwear to the side and spread that pretty legs for me."

Like a desperate puppet, Sandra did. Cate's slender fingers travelled from the crest of her toned-stomach down to the slit of her womanhood and when it tried to dip into the depth of the brunette's cave, Sandra suddenly sobered. She closed her legs shut and she then turned to look at the blonde. Her eyes grew big, face wrapped in horror as if having to taste sex with the blonde was a forbidden thing.

"What?" Cate softly asked, her chest panting, easing the tension off.

Sandra bit her lip as she tossed her head back into the wall, a sigh of defeat came, "I'm sorry." She mumbled with her eyes closed.

Cate took a step and held Sandra's shoulders, running her hands up and down, trying to soothe whatever wrinkle Sandra was feeling. They were each other's ex, and the blonde understood that it was a peculiar thing - meeting once again, opening each other's door once more, marking each other's body like maps and drinking each other's juices as if nothing happened. It was strange to go back to the same old road that they were in a year ago, and maybe, that was the problem for Sandra.

"Hey..." The blonde jested, taking Sandra's chin with her fingers, trying to make the brunette to look at her, "It's okay." She mumbled when she met Sandra's eyes, "I get it. It's strange to do this again, but in all honesty, this feels right."

Sandra never spoke. She kept her lips shut, afraid whatever may slip out of it. Instead, she stared at the blonde. Her eyes never left that cyan-blue pair. And in their most definite silence, with their eyes speaking the language they once spoke before, Sandra started to cry. Her lips stayed still, while her eyes produced the heavy water that was tormenting her soul; she cried like a little child who got her candy stolen. Her tears welled down on her face and her faint sobs slipped.

"Hey..." Cate spoke again, holding Sandra's chin while her other hand fell to the small of her back, "I'm here. I'm here, always." Cate reassured her, pulling her even closer, "I hate to see you cry, baby."

Sandra kept a brave facade, but her tears kept on falling. The realization of that midnight came rushing through her and it felt like the walls that she had built to protect herself from whatever danger was smacked down, piece by piece in just a snap. She felt cold, but with Cate's hands holding her firmly, the heat rushed up, but still, it was not right.

"Look at me, baby." Cate softly spoke, and Sandra did, "My heart aches seeing you cry. Stop it."

Sandra sniffed and tried to suck all her tears down into her core. After all, that midnight wasn't meant for tears. She was about to utter the words that she'd been dying to say, but she was cut off with the blonde's words.

"I miss you." Cate spoke in a tone of frankness and honesty, in a tone implying that her I miss you didn't need to be answered with an I miss you too, it was just her honesty, it was her truth and Cate wanted Sandra to hear it, "I miss you, baby." She spoke softly, glazing upon Sandra's glossy teared-eyes, "I miss you terribly that it hurts. My chest ached when I first saw a glimpse of you tonight, but when I walked towards you and inhaled your soul, I felt a relief as if a huge knife was pulled out of my heart. Do you hear me?" Cate asked, and then her tears started to fall, one by one, like  huge droplets of water, "Do you get how much I miss you? Do you know how happy I am tonight?"

There was an enormous longing plastered on their faces. Sandra never said a word, but she knew deep down that it was all true, because she felt what the blonde felt too. Cate never spoke, never dared to speak another word, instead she gently caressed Sandra's cheek. Asking her to open her heart, asking for an entrance to her soul. The old, abandoned and almost forgotten love-story that was buried in the depthness of their skins slowly resurfaced and before any other wind could ruin the moment, Cate stared into Sandra's eyes, silently begging for her to let her mark her; silently asking her to light the almost dying fire, silently asking her to eat her whole individuality. Cate inched even closer and when Sandra's lips slightly opened, she kissed her once more. Slowly at first, lips crashing into the rhythm of an old lullaby. They drunk and sipped each other's saliva passionately. Their tongues battled, but it didn't take too long when Sandra pushed her away and the coldness of her palms was pasted on Cate's bare chest.