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The sun had dipped lower, but the poolside still shimmered with quiet voices and soft light on water. Somewhere in the background, music played--slower now, like the day was exhaling.
Heather and Claudia had found their way back to each other without words. No grand gestures. Just a glance, a touch on the arm--the silent language of people who had both been changed.
As they stepped inside, the assistant approached them again--composed as ever, clipboard in hand. Her suit still sat perfectly, the cuffs of her sleeves exactly even.
But this time, Claudia noticed something she hadn't before. The woman wore flat shoes, but her stride suggested years of training. Not modeling. Not walking. Something else. Like someone who had learned to move without being heard, and never unlearned it.
"Thank you for today," the assistant said. "We hope you enjoyed your stay with us."
Then, after a short pause:
"I just realized--I never introduced myself. I'm Mira."
Claudia gave a small nod. Heather wasn't sure what to say.
Mira turned slightly. Her gaze dipped--just a little--taking in Heather's bikini, the way it sat on her body, how little it covered. She didn't stare. Didn't comment.
But Heather felt it. The brief flick of attention. The pause that wasn't quite neutral.
Then Mira looked up again, her voice smooth as ever. "The dressing room is ready, if you'd like to change."
She gestured for them to follow.
They didn't speak as they walked. The hallway was quiet, the air a few degrees cooler than outside. Their steps softened against the floor.
The dressing room was larger than expected. Three full-length mirrors stood along one wall, tilted slightly back. Along the other: a rail of dresses, evening gowns in soft fabrics and muted colors--neatly spaced, untouched.
In the middle of the room, a padded bench. On it: their own clothes. Folded with care, not quite in the order they'd taken them off.
Claudia stepped to the far side of the room and began to change.
She stepped into the wine-colored dress, pulled the fabric over her hips and smoothed it into place. Back then, she'd chosen it to feel strong--leaving out the bra. Something to hold her ground next to Claudia. At the time, it had felt like a smart decision. Now it seemed more like something she had needed to believe.
The fabric still fit. But it touched her differently now.
She adjusted the neckline. Her breasts sat higher than she remembered--
or maybe it was the way she held herself. She met her eyes in the mirror.
She just let the image stay a moment longer than usual.
Claudia had already finished dressing. She stood near the bench, fastening her watch, when she noticed Heather still standing in front of the mirror. She wasn't adjusting anything, wasn't checking for flaws--just looking. As if trying to recognize someone in her own reflection.
Claudia didn't interrupt. She only watched for a moment longer than usual, quietly wondering who Heather saw when no one else was looking.
Claudia let her gaze rest on Heather one last time, then turned away. She didn't want to interrupt the moment. Quietly, she walked to the door, her hand already on the handle--but before she could press it down, she heard Heather's voice behind her.
"I'm ready."
Claudia paused for a second, then gave a small nod. Not that Heather could see it. They stepped into the hallway together.
The room looked unchanged. Low chairs, pale walls, the same gentle warmth in the air.
Mira stood near the side table, a tablet in her hand. She looked up as they entered.
"The driver is on his way," she said. "He's bringing someone back from a late session. Just a few more minutes."
Claudia gave a small nod. Heather said nothing.
Mira glanced toward the chairs, as if considering whether to stay--then, with a quiet "Take your time," she turned and walked out. The door closed behind her without a sound.
They sat--one chair between them. Not out of distance. Just out of habit. The silence settled.
Claudia sat with her legs crossed, elbows resting on the armrests. The chair felt too soft for how sharp her thoughts still were. She hadn't looked at Heather since they sat down. Her mind kept circling back.
To the first touch. The warmth between Livia's thighs. The soft give of skin. How easily her fingers had slid over the silk, then beneath it--finding the heat, the texture, the way everything opened under her hand.
The folds had been slick already. Swollen. Responsive. She'd expected hesitation. From Livia. From herself. But there was none.
She had parted her gently, with two fingers--curious at first, then more certain. The sensation had surprised her. How easily the skin yielded. How delicate and firm the little knot of flesh had felt under her fingertip.
She'd circled it, slowly at first, then with rhythm. Just enough to watch Livia twitch. Breathe deeper. Open wider. It hadn't felt foreign. It had felt deliberate. Like playing an instrument she didn't know she already understood.
And then the part that stayed with her most. Not the slickness on her fingers. Not the heat against her palm. But the way Livia had responded. Without words. With the body. The hips lifting. The thighs parting. The pulse that grew with every motion, until Claudia had pushed her just past the edge--and held her there.
That moment. Where she could've stopped, or gone further, and both would've made Livia come.
Claudia swallowed. It wasn't just sex. It was authority. It was power. Soft. Precise. Absolute.
And the fact that she had done it like that--without planning it, without flinching--left a kind of echo in her. Something she couldn't name yet.
She shifted slightly in the chair. Her foot moved in a slow arc--like following a rhythm only she could hear. Her eyes stayed forward, but her attention drifted sideways.
Heather hadn't spoken. Hadn't looked at her since they sat down. But Claudia could feel the tension beside her. Not loud. Just tightly wound.
Then Heather exhaled and said, "Well, well, well. Here we are."
Claudia didn't reply. Just let the words hang in the air.
Heather folded her hands in her lap. Unfolded them again.
She stared ahead. The silence still felt too big, so she added, more to herself:
"That was... something."
She wasn't sure what she meant. Only that something needed to be said.
In Heather's mind, the images had never stopped. She'd had sex. Technically. In the widest of all senses. A man. A woman? Her body still remembered the trembling. But it had been fast. Gentle. Almost accidental. Nothing like what she imagined for Claudia.
In her head, Claudia had spent an hour in some dark room filled with ropes and rules and rhythms. Toys Heather had only ever seen online--some she didn't even understand--now part of a reality that hadn't included her.
Whatever happened in that room, it hadn't involved gentle hands and nervous glances. Not the kind she was used to. Not the kind that stopped and asked. Claudia had been filled, taken, undone--probably all of it, and then some. And here she was, walking like she'd just come from yoga.
She bit the inside of her cheek. No one had said it. No one had compared. But the thought clung to her like sweat.
Maybe I'm just... not made for this.
She shifted slightly, adjusted the hem of her dress.
Maybe I'm the girl you warm up with. The one you take to the movies. To watch a romantic comedy. The one who laughs too loud, holds your hand too early and makes it easy to move on, without really knowing why.
She glanced at Claudia. Still composed. Still unreadable.
She probably had them both moaning her name. And now she's just waiting to go home and write a paper on legal ethics.
Heather felt the urge to laugh. Or cry. Or do something. Instead, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and muttered:
"Anyway. That strawberry was nice."
Claudia turned her head, one eyebrow barely raised.
Heather smiled faintly. "You know. The fruit on the table. I think I had... two."
It was stupid. She knew it was stupid. But it was easier than saying:
I feel small next to you right now.
Claudia looked at Heather, the talkative one. She knew when it happened. Knew the moment when too much had stirred, and words came rushing in to keep it all from spilling over.
Quietly, she stood. Stepped to the chair beside her and sat down. Not too close. Just enough. Then she turned slightly, resting one hand gently on Heather's shoulder.
"Heather, my dear," she said softly. "I've known you long enough. And this is what you do--when you're over the edge. You talk."
She let her thumb brush lightly across Heather's collarbone. "Relax. It was a long, strange, beautiful day. You don't have to name it all at once."
Before either of them could say more, a soft knock interrupted the moment.
The door opened. Mira stepped in, calm as ever.
"The car is arriving now," she said. "Just pulling up the drive."
She gave a slight nod, then stepped aside and disappeared down the hallway.
Claudia withdrew her hand. Heather adjusted the strap of her dress. Neither spoke.
They stood almost at the same time.
As they stepped outside, the light had shifted again. Shadows reached across the drive. The air still carried a hint of warmth. Just then, the car turned into the drive. Black, quiet, its paint faintly catching the last glow of the day.
It slowed. Stopped. Then the back door opened.
A woman stepped out. She didn't look around. Didn't pause. Just walked like this place had been waiting for her.
Her black dress clung softly to her curves, cut high at the thigh. A lock of dark hair slipped from behind her ear as she looked up--first at Mira, then at the two girls by the door. Her posture was relaxed, her stride unforced. And yet, she didn't move like someone unsure of where to go.
Heather straightened slightly. She didn't mean to. It just happened.
The woman's gaze found them. Assessed--briefly. Then lingered.
Not on Heather. On Claudia.
There was no smile. Just the faintest pull at one corner of her mouth, as if something about Claudia interested her. Something she recognized. Heather noticed.
She felt the flicker of heat--not in her skin, but somewhere colder. A dull little twist in the chest.
Claudia didn't react. Not visibly. But she shifted her weight--subtle, grounded. Almost as if she'd been seen. And accepted it.
The woman stepped closer.
"Hi," she said, voice calm, slightly husky. "I'm Lina."
Claudia gave a small nod. Heather managed a polite smile.
"New here?" Lina asked.
They both nodded. Heather answered first. "Yes. Just finishing up."
Lina's mouth curved a little more. "It'll grow on you. There's a lot... to explore."
For a second, her eyes flicked back to Heather. Just long enough to register something. Then she turned toward Mira, who stood waiting a few paces back.
Without another word, Lina disappeared into the house.
Heather exhaled. Slowly. Her gaze dropped to the stone floor, then back up to Claudia. Something about the air felt different now. Less warm. More charged.
Mira waited a beat, then said, gently, "We'll see you again tomorrow. The final steps won't take long."
Claudia nodded. Heather just smiled--small and closed, like she wasn't sure what the next part would be.
They stepped into the car. As the doors closed, Mira offered a quiet nod--measured, but not without feeling.
The car was quiet.
They had left the villa behind--its stillness, its soft shadows. The road curved through quiet hills, trees lining the edges like silent watchers. The world out there felt wider. Less arranged. More accidental.
Heather's gaze was on the passing trees. Claudia stared straight ahead.
Neither spoke. But both were somewhere else.
Gradually, the landscape changed. Houses appeared, then shops. Billboards. Crosswalks. The edge of the city folded them back into itself, gently but unmistakably.
Streetlights blinked on. One after the other, like a quiet ritual. Windows lit up like small private worlds. A woman in a coat carried groceries across the road. A cyclist passed in a rush of wind and rhythm. The city had no idea what they were bringing with them.
Heather tapped her finger lightly against the window. Slow. Unfocused. Her eyes followed the buildings, but her thoughts hadn't caught up.
Inside the car, the silence had shifted. As if something had landed without a sound.
The car slowed and pulled up in front of Claudia's place.
Heather watched as Claudia reached for the handle, then paused and turned slightly.
"It was good to have you with me today," Claudia said. Soft, but sure.
She looked at Heather--held her gaze for just a moment.
Then she stepped out. The door closed gently behind her, and the car moved on.
Streetlights flickered past. A few more turns. A few more quiet minutes.
It stopped again in front of her apartment. Heather stepped out. The air had cooled--not cold, just enough to notice.
She walked up the short path, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
Her flatmate was still out of town.
The silence felt thicker than usual.
She didn't turn on the lights right away. She just stood there.
The day was over. But something hadn't ended yet.
It had only paused. Right here.
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