CHIM - One Hundred Dozen (Lesbian Story) (Cheryl, Kimberley, Girls Aloud)

- Twenty-Six -

A/N: Visual posted on the side ---> Meet Andrea (Yes, I know it's Brittany Snow.  LOL just play along.)

The last full day they have together starts to whiz by uncontrollably.  The hour glass seems to be less forgiving with each minute that passes, the sand slipping through much too enthusiastically.  It creates a sort of tension that lingers in the air between Kimberley and Cheryl and each time one of them glances at the clock, it's like another jab to the heart.   

Cheryl helps Kimberley pack.  Tries to help, anyways.  Kimberley has her own special way of doing things in a methodically perfected system.  It's more like Cheryl putting something in the case and Kimberley eventually taking it out and re-inserting it absentmindedly.  Kimberley doesn't even realize she's doing it.  And Cheryl sighs, frustrated with how useless she is but she can't bring herself to stop trying.  She just feels the need to be a part of this packing process.  So she tries.  And tries again.  But Kimberley is moving around the room on autopilot, barely speaking a word to Cheryl at all, let alone aware of how rubbish she's making her feel by rejecting her every effort.     

They coexist in the confinement of Kimberley's bedroom.  It's unusual.  Their last bit of time together before they're separated by thousands of miles for a month, and they barely utter a word to each other.  They don't even graze shoulders let alone hug or kiss.  Nothing. They're just two people in a room.  Quite the contrast to their usual relationship.  

Cheryl decides to start on the next empty case.  She sets it on the bed and opens it up.  She starts to transfer the piles of clothes that Kimberley has already folded and set out on the bed.  Not even five shirts are packed when Cheryl feels Kimberley's eyes burn into her.   Cheryl lifts her eyes to meet them. 

"Yeah?"   

Kimberley frowns.  "Can you leave that, please?  I'll do it."    

"Why can't I just put the clothes in the case?  You already have them folded properly the way you like."    

"Yeah but I put them in a certain way."    

"What way is that?" Cheryl frowns.    

"It's just...the way that I like to pack my cases," Kimberley shrugs.  "Just...I'll do it."    

Cheryl starts to feel herself getting beyond annoyed now.  "But I want to do it.  Can't you just tell us how you want it packed so I can do it for you?"     

Kimberley shakes her head.  "Can't you just let me do it myself?"  

"It's a f*cking case, Kimberley, can't you just show-"  

"Just leave the f*cking case, Cheryl!" Kimberley snaps, much harsher and much louder than intended.  But the words spill out like venom nevertheless.    

Cheryl's eyes widen.  And with raised brows, she raises her hands in defeat, taking a deep breath and trying to control her simmering temper.  "Fine."  

Kimberley takes a steadying breath, trying to ignore the pang of guilt in her chest, and resumes with the clothes she was working on.  The tension that lingered before has seemingly escalated, the pressure really starting to get to them.  Since becoming a couple, they haven't spent a single night apart, and the fact that they're about to be worlds away from each other until Kimberley's time off at the end of the month is eating away at their usual love-stricken ways, leaving them in this uncomfortable state. 

Cheryl feels herself falling more vulnerable than she already was, her eyes threatening to well up.  She reaches for those few shirts in the case and takes them out, placing them back on the bed for Kimberley to deal with.  Without a word, she leaves the bedroom and goes downstairs, feeling defeated, hopeless and worn.