Chapter Forty Five

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And undeniably, Lou was head over heels in love with Debbie, that, she could not lie. For Debbie, she could delete all the dismantled pieces of her; she could repair what was broken, because for Debbie, she wanted to be perfect, but how could she be when Debbie, she thought, was the only perfect thing in this imperfect universe? For Debbie, the demons in her were ready to pray about the godly prayers that she was so scared to even read with her cerulean eyes. The century-old satanic soul in Lou was ready to strip its own skin off, and be bathed with the holy water from the holiest place. Lou, a demon dressed in silk, was ready to be an angel for Debbie. And Lou was sure that her smile could burn her million sins away, like how satan burned hell.


"You wrote something for me?" Debbie asked.


The stillness of that midnight felt too right. Blaire was still in the car, sleeping and they were outside. A picnic blanket on the grass and Debbie was sitting in between Lou's parted legs. The fireflies flew away, still, the place despite being surrounded with tall trees, was not dark. The moon was still at its brightest and the city lights in front of them were still screaming its existence.


Lou looked down at her before she brought her a smile, "I did..." She waved the journal in front of the brunette, "Here."


Debbie sat up straight as she got the journal from Lou. The blonde smiled as she pulled Debbie through her waist, bodies closer; she then placed her chin on the brunette's shoulder. She could smell Debbie - her fragnance was dulcet, sweet and calming as Lou sniffed her which made Debbie giggle as she flipped the pages on.


Lou flipped two more pages before she kissed the brunette's earlobe, "There." She whispered as she showed Debbie what she wrote.


ocean,


i want to love you in the softest way possible - in the most delicate kind of way, like the octoberian rain tapping on the abandoned pavements of italy. in the most serene way like how still and quite and comforting a 3 am wishful thinking is. i want to love you like how i see love in films - where the lovers run and dance and kiss under the rain without having to think about colds and fever. i want to love you in the most loving way humans have ever loved. i want to love you like how most people love the idea of midnight strolls in paris. i want to love you... in a nonviolent way. like a fairy hiding under a mushroom, like a frog resting on a lily; i want to love you like how jesus loved mary magdalene. but how could i when i am the mosaic of all the violence i have encountered? i am a part of my father's godless way of loving, i am my mother's denial and i am the fruition of the people who have thrown me off the bus. i am a wild woman, with bruished knees and a scar-covered heart. my elbows are black and blue, and my lips utter profanities that nuns and priest would drag me to drink holy water if they ever hear me. but i want to love you- still - in the softest way possible and if my softest way possible isn't that soft to you, burn me to hell.


"Lou..." Debbie breathed as she touched the sheet gradually, as if tracing each phrase that was written, hoping for it to stick onto her finger and run to the spaces of her skin for the whole world to know, "It's beautiful."


The blonde laughed softly as she casually got the journal and closed it, "You're beautiful."


"I'm not kidding."


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