"Happy now?" Cora asked, her eyebrow raised with a hint of a smirk playing around her lips. She watched Maren excitedly swallow the last of her smoked meat and veggies on a skewer. And with a smile bursting from a full mouth, she replied. "Mhm!"
Cora's smirk widened and she struggled to suppress her grin, doing her best to hide it with the last of her meat skewer.
Maren is just too cute, she thought.
The four of them relaxed on the sidelines of the town square where countless people gathered. It was so lively that Cora couldn't help but wonder what the festival would be like when it officially started. She glanced around, taking everything in. She was surprised at the number of families there were, considering the hour, but she was happy to see it, nonetheless. It meant these families felt safe enough to take their children out at night.
There were several couples wandering around, young and old. She wondered which of them had been together a long time and who were just getting to know each other. There were the obvious — an older couple, grey and wrinkly and very cute. Then there were the less obvious — a couple in their late 20s, the girlfriend softly tapping her ice cream on the man's nose, followed by giggling. There was another couple, seemingly in their teens, awkwardly holding hands. Cora smirked at their expressions, excited but equally as terrified.
Then, she noticed another set of hands.
On the far side of the square, a group of six young women sat around a fountain, just a few years older than them. One of the women stood out to her. She had long brown hair and bright blue eyes but it wasn't her features that stood out. It was her expression. She was nervous, her hands resting behind her on the stone seat. And beside her, another young woman with short, dark brown hair. But they did not face each other. They seemed wrapped up in conversations with the other girls. But then, the girl with long hair slid her hand across the stone, her pinky tapping the other's finger.
Cora watched, entranced like she was at the theater.
She wondered what would happen.
Would she react? Would she pull her hand back awkwardly and they giggle? Would she snatch her hand and accuse her of being weird?
But neither of those things happened. Instead, the short-haired girl extended her finger, just enough to brush the other girl's finger back. Cora's face warmed at the sight of it. It was so secret — so intimate. And yet, it was like it was only happening in their world. Their faces stayed turned toward the other girls, wrapped in separate conversations, as if it wasn't happening at all.
Cora couldn't help but feel a sliver of disappointment.
And yet, she also felt…warmth? She didn't fully understand this feeling. Her eyes slid down toward Maren, who sat with Ariel to her left and to his left sat Selma, the three of them chatting with each other. About what? She didn't fully know. She's fully tuned herself out of the conversation and into the world of these strangers across the square. But something about it still felt fulfilling.
Her eyes slid down to Maren's perfectly manicured, dainty hands and she realized what she was feeling.
Cora wanted that too.
She wanted Maren's hands in hers.
Suddenly, a boy in the middle of the square began playing a jovial melody that was distinct to the accordion. And then, a singer joined the tune.
"Weeeeell I once met a young lass, short and stout.
I met 'er in a bar, off the ol' fairground.
Her skin were like scales and her voice, like nails.
But I canny be picky, for I'd just finished ridin' south from Waels."
"Oh Goddess, one of these," Ariel muttered, rolling his eyes. "It's a group from Macon. They're rather popular despite the nasty lyrics."
"The tune is rather good," Maren smiled.
Cora agreed. The tune was rather good.
"Now let me tell ye a story of the night I blacked out!"
Then, the tune picked up. A musician joined, playing the fiddle, and another played the banjo. The singer continued with his lyrics, and though Cora found his voice rather obnoxious and pitchy, she had to admit that it worked well with the song. Several people danced around them in the square, in a classic dance known around Carbouran.
"Oh!" Maren exclaimed. "I know this one!"
Cora glanced over, her mind stuck on Maren's hands.
Then, a grin spread across her face.
With the flow of the wind, Cora stepped out in front of her and held out her hand. "Would you like to dance?"
***
Maren was stunned by her sudden question. Cora was great at all sports growing up — dancing was no different. But during their time at the Academy, she hardly ever participated in dancing at balls, if she even attended. So, this version of Cora — the one who initiated a dance — surprised her.
Was it the fact that there were no royal officials in sight?
Was it because they weren't surrounded by the judging eyes of their peers?
Or was it the fact that they weren't princesses here? That in that moment, they were just a couple of young women among the many that danced in the flow of the crowd?
Maren hesitated for a moment, gazing in surprise at her hand. Her mind flurried with worries and insecurities. She wanted to, but should she? In front of Ariel? In front of Selma? In the middle of so many eyes? What if someone recognized them? But the energy of that fiddle sang to her spirit, and when she looked into the warmth of Cora's bright eyes, all her worries melted away.
I suppose, she thought as she slipped her hand into Cora's, one dance couldn't hurt.
And suddenly, Cora whisked her into the crowd. In less than a second, they were swallowed within the crowd. It was hotter than she expected. More bodies brushed against her at once than ever before. But as Cora helped her sway with the music, she felt herself catch her breath again.
The two of them fell in motion with the crowd, everyone moving in step with the other. On the beat, Maren was passed to a young man for but a moment. He dipped her, twirled her and tossed her back into Cora's arms. Maren could hardly catch her breath when Cora dipped her, twirled her and tossed her into the arms of another.
Maren let out a wild laugh, and when he brought her back up, as if in slow-motion, Maren caught a glimpse of Selma in Cora's arms. For a moment, she felt a pang of jealousy. But when she noticed their expressions, her heart softened. Cora's head tipped back in a hearty laugh and for the first time in weeks, Maren saw Selma laugh so hard she gripped her belly and wiped tears from her eyes.
It was bittersweet. She was happy that they were laughing --- happy that Selma was laughing. But she couldn't figure out what could make Cora laugh in such a way that she laughed like never before. The idea jabbed at something a deep shade of green within her. But at the same time, she was happy for her — and happy she was able to witness it.
Then, the beat changed again. Maren was twirled across the dance floor, and before she knew it, she stumbled back in Cora's embrace. Maren could feel her before she looked at her face — Cora's heat was unmistakable. Her arms slid around Maren's waist from behind, brushing her bare flesh with her thumb. She could feel her breath tickle her ear, heavy and hot. And for a moment, as the tips of her fingers fell just over her hipbones, her palms pressed into the flesh there, gripping it just so.
Heat ran through Maren's body from her touch, pulsing in places that shouldn't pulse in such a situation. Maren let out a warm breath that shuddered despite herself. She wanted Cora's hands to move across her — to move further down — exploring.
Maren turned her face up, towards Cora.
Her body burned with so much excitement, even her lips buzzed with energy. Her eyelids felt heavier than before, as if she were entranced with some strange magic.
But she knew this feeling.
It wasn't magic at all.
Her eyes locked with Cora's, and she found that her hand had made its way up as well, settling on Cora's jaw. She gazed down at her with all the heat in the world and Maren knew there was only one thing she could call this.
Desire.