Emily and Maya, a yuri romance (IsabellaRose & WritesNaughtyStories)

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Originally posted by @IsabellaRose

The rhythmic clacking of the train wheels against the tracks provided a soothing backdrop to the boring daily ride, and almost hypnotized Emily as she sat by the window, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery, book open on her lap, lost in her own thoughts. She was a shy girl, quiet and uncertain in social situations, preferring the comfort of solitude and the company of books. It didn't mean she didn't notice others around her, just that she rarely knew what to say or how to talk to people. Today she had definitely noticed someone else, and despite her awkwardness, she couldn't stop looking at the girl seated across the train.

She stole another glance across the train car, her eyes again falling upon the girl with the cute skirt sitting a few seats away. Emily's heart fluttered slightly as she admired the girl's style, the way her outfit seemed to have been effortlessly assembled, and the way it seemed to imply a vibrant personality. The girl's hair was a cascade of curls framing a pretty face with porcelain skin, and her eyes sparkled as she scrolled through her phone. Emily couldn't help but steal glances, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and admiration. She had always been drawn to beauty, not just in outward appearance but in the way people carried themselves, in the expressions and gestures that spoke volumes about who they were.

Every time the girl looked up from her phone, Emily quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be engrossed in her own book. She felt a rush of excitement and nervousness whenever their eyes briefly met, but never held the girl's gaze for too long. There was no way she was noticing Emily with quite the same interest, she was certain of it. Emily wasn't the kind of girl to draw attention.

Minutes turned into what felt like an eternity as the train continued its journey, and Emily found herself unable to read her book, lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She wanted to say something, to compliment the girl on her outfit or strike up a conversation about something, but fear held her back. Instead, she continued to steal glances, hoping against hope that the girl would notice her too and be the brave one to start up a conversation. She imagined scenarios in her mind, a playful banter or a shared smile that would break the ice between them. But each time their eyes met, Emily's gaze darted away, her heart racing with uncertainty.

The sound of the brakes indicated that they were nearing her stop, and Emily knew that this fleeting moment would soon come to an end. She couldn't shake off the regret building within her, the missed opportunity to connect with someone who had unknowingly captured her attention and curiosity. That face would appear in her dreams, and like every other girl who had caught her attention before, she would need to accept that dream version of the girl as the one she would get to know. Her own awkwardness would mean that no one would ever notice her as a possible romantic partner. She had resigned herself to that a long time ago, but for a brief moment across a crowded train, she imagined it might have been otherwise.

Edited Tuesday at 09:39 PM by WritesNaughtyStories
Image added

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Maya scrolled idly through the digital edition of a fashion magazine, looking at beautiful women in stylish clothes she didn't have the courage to wear. Her grandmother called her "svelte" but Maya felt more like "gangly". She gave up on the phone quickly, it wasn't the same as an actual magazine.

She turned the phone face down in her lap and looked up from the peach colored fabric of her skirt.  A few seats away and attractive woman looked back down at her book. Had she been looking at Maya? She reached reflexively for her shayla at her shoulder and looked back down at the back of her phone.

Maya glanced up without raising her head and thought the girl was looking at her. Her heart beat quickly - the woman was about her age and had the kind of graceful, natural beauty that Maya envied.  She looked away quickly, afraid the woman would think she was staring at her..

She fingered the lace fabric at her shoulder. She wore her shayla at the crown of her head, more a nod to her grandmother's wishes than any commitment to tradition. The fabric matched her skirt and she thought about tugging it down and wearing it as a scarf. It felt like a cop out though - it was pretty and the trim wouldn't show if she took it down - besides, it was pinned. There was no way to be subtle about taking it down.

Maya sighed and fidgeted with her phone for a second before she looked up again, this time raising her head. When the girl glanced at her - and she definitely did - Maya tried to smile but chickened out and looked away.

As the train slowed, Maya glanced back at the woman, trying to decide if she should ask what she was reading. Instead, she tried to look at the book as the other girl got up to leave the train.

"Oh God!" Maya thought. I need to get off to. "She's going to think I'm following her!"

Maya waited until the last possible moment to get off the train and walked down the platform stairs, scanning for the girl.

[IsabellaRose]

Emily gathered her belongings, her mind replaying the brief but captivating moments of stolen glances with the girl in the peach-colored skirt. She couldn't shake off her curiosity about the girl, and she felt a hint of regret as she stood up to leave the train. She wasn't brave enough to strike up conversation, but as she made her way towards the exit, she couldn't help but steal one last glance back at where the girl sat. She was hoping to catch another glimpse of her before they parted ways, but the crowd moved in such a way that she couldn't get view of the girl's seat. She felt her heart sink a little. Her life seemed to be full of missed opportunities.

As Emily walked down the platform stairs, her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the familiar peach-colored fabric or the graceful figure of the girl who had unknowingly captured her attention. She felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness, wondering if fate would be kind enough to give them another chance encounter, but the girl was gone, lost in the crowd. Emily stood still for a moment, wondering why fate would put someone so captivating in her path but then keep them apart, the whole time unaware that the girl was only a few paces behind her. 

She began walking the few blocks to her tiny apartment. She crossed the street to the north, and then crossed again to the west. Her eyes searched ahead but saw no sign of the beautiful girl from the train. She glanced sideways to the other side of the street, searching for a familiar peach-colored skirt or a glimpse of the graceful figure she had admired from afar on the train. But amidst the crowd, the girl seemed to have disappeared completely.

Despondent, Emily looked at the crowd across the street, those who hadn't crossed to the west side, and almost a block ahead through the bustling crowd, Emily caught a whisper of peach peeking out from between grey business suits. She quickened her pace, trying to navigate through the crowded street while keeping the singular color in her line of sight. 

Sure enough, at the next crosswalk, Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the girl with the shayla draped gracefully over her head crossing in the same direction. Soon she was directly across the street from the other woman, and her gaze was directed across the street more often that it was in the direction she was headed. As the both waited at the next crosswalk, their eyes met briefly through the sea of people and cars, a fleeting connection that sent a rush of excitement through Emily's veins. Emily couldn't help but smile, a mixture of shyness and excitement dancing in her gaze.

Now that they had seen each other, the occasional glance turned into a silent game of hide-and-seek amidst the urban chaos, each stolen look fueling Emily's desire to bridge the gap between them. Their paths led them past colorful murals adorning brick walls, aromatic bakeries tempting passersby with freshly baked goods, and cozy bookstores displaying enticing titles in their windows. She marveled at the serendipitous journey they seemed to be taking, guided by a chance encounter and unspoken desire.

As they neared a bustling intersection, Emily's heart raced with anticipation. She caught the girl's gaze once again, and this time, she mustered all her courage to offer a tentative smile across the busy street. As the girl looked, Emily turned and headed into the bookstore on the corner. She stole one last glance over her shoulder, wondering if the other girl would take the chance and enter the store. Excitement filled her with adrenaline as she wandered back into rows of shelves, filled with hopeful anticipation.
 

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Maya thought she saw the stranger ahead - a flash of a blouse and a glimpse of hair - and hurried to catch up. As she worked her way along the crowded sidewalk, slipping between gray business suits and dark, work appropriate high heels, Maya approached the woman and her heart sank, Her hair an blouse were similar but she was carrying a briefcase that the woman on the train had not had, The young, dark haired woman sighed dejectedly and slowed her gait, looking around for some sign that she hadn't lost her.

As she scanned around, her hopes sagged and she made her way toward home on slow, suddenly heavy, feet. She crossed the street and glanced ahead, hoping for the universe to give her a break. Again, she saw nothing and continued along the block, idly looking at the shops as she passed. As she came to the next corner she thought about stopping at the bodega for an ice cream to cheer herself up, She shook her head at herself and stopped at the crosswalk, She wondered, again what the girl had been reading, and looked over at the bookstore across the street and up the block.

There she was! The girl from the train!

Maya matched the other woman's pace and kept glancing over - she was definitely looking back - and walked past her building, trying to see where she went. When their eyes met again the girl definitely smiled. Maya smiled back, but quickly looked away shyly. Maya was surprised, despite the woman having been reading a book on the train, when she turned into the bookstore. Maya looked around in a panic - the store was in the middle of the block! She hurried through the crowd to the corner - trying hard not to push, and squeeze past people, but this was important! When she got to the corner the light was against her and she started to jaywalk, but stopped herself, "Please... wait." She whispered, willing the light to change as she mashed the "Push to Cross" button.

Time felt frozen as she waited for the light to change. Thoughts of just rushing across kept bubbling to the surface, but she resisted. Barely. Her heart raced in her chest as she tried to convince herself that the time was only a couple of minutes, not the hours it felt like. She'd be there. Even if she knew what she was getting and went straight to the shelf, got it and went to the register. She'd see her coming out of the store.

The light changed. Maya charged out into the street, forcing a car to screech to a halt. She waved apologetically and scurried across the street. She fought the urge to run down the block; as much afraid of running into people as running into the girl too winded to speak. As Maya came up to the store she peered into the window, hoping to see her. She caught her own reflection in the glass. Her face was flushed, her hair a mess and she was breathing hard. She pulled herself up straight and took a deep breath. It helped a little and Maya used the reflection to tidy up her disheveled hair. She looked through her reflection into what she could see of the inside of the store, her chest tight with the dame excitement as when she was a little girl and grandma took her to get new shoes.

And that memory panicked her. She could feel the harsh correction of her girlhood when she said she would marry her friend Jenny from school. Her father had been angry but measured, her mother and grandmother more gentle, but every bit as unyielding. Maya had aged, quietly pushing her thoughts about romance aside until she almost forgot them. Yet here Maya stood, hand on the door to a bookshop where an attractive woman - and being attracted to her - had brought her. "The truth is inescapable." Grandma often said. The thrill of her excitement had been replaced with an uncertain nervousness that seemed to vibrate through her being, but Maya pulled the door open with a nod to her grandmother's wisdom.

The shop was small and tall shelves crowded as close together under the warm, almost orange lights, as the people did on the sidewalk outside and Maya cast about for the girl. She saw her, about halfway down an aisle, her book in her hand and an eye turned toward the door. Maya tried to smile, and her hand went to her shoulder and tugged at her shayla. Her smile wavered as she wondered what to say. "The truth is inescapable." she heard it again and Maya's smile brightened.

"Hi," she began uncertainly, "I saw you reading on the train and wanted to ask what." she said truthfully. Suddenly Maya wished she had stopped at the magazine rack to pick up a fashion magazine so she looked less like she'd chased the poor girl here. They smiled at each other across the street, hadn't they? She wasn't being weird. Was she?

 

[IsabellaRose]

Emily had chosen an aisle at random and had picked a book off the shelf just to look like she'd come in here on purpose. When she saw the girl from the train at the end of the aisle her heart stopped for a moment, then began racing with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as Maya approached. Emily was gripped with inner turmoil, her emotions swirling like leaves caught in a gentle breeze.

When Maya finally stood beside her, Emily felt a rush of warmth spread through her cheeks, betraying the nervous fluttering in her chest. She's just being polite and friendly, she thought. She's not interested in you the way you are in her. She tried to steady her breathing, to appear composed and collected, but the blush in her cheeks betrayed her and she felt exposed and vulnerable in Maya's presence.

Maya's voice, soft and inviting, reached Emily's ears like a gentle melody. Emily's lips parted in surprise, her eyes widening slightly as she met Maya's gaze. She tried to respond, to form words like any normal person would, but the whirlwind of emotions within her made her voice falter. She was frozen, caught in the grip of uncertainty and embarrassment.

"Hi," Emily managed to utter, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks tinged with a delicate shade of pink. She averted her gaze momentarily, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the book in her hand, a futile attempt to distract herself from the intensity she was certain only she felt in this moment. The other woman's presence was both comforting and electrifying.

She longed to reach out, to touch Maya's arm, but fear held her back like an invisible barrier. The desperate longing to bridge the gap between them warred with the self-doubt that plagued Emily's every interaction. Their eyes met again, and Emily thought she noticed something similar reflected in Maya's gaze. Was that an echo of uncertainty mingled with a subtle longing? No, it was wishful thinking.

"I was reading, um..." she set the book she was holding down and opened her bag, pulling out her copy of Annie on My Mind and held it up for Maya to see. 

"This." She doesn't want to say the title out loud, and she hopes the girl from the train doesn't know what it's about. Or maybe she hopes she does know what it's about. Her eyes flick from meeting Maya's gaze to the carpeted floor and back, her uncertainty clear.

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Maya looked at the book. There were two girls, their heads pressed together, holding hands on the cover. Annie on My Mind. Maya had never heard of it but it seemed clear what it was about.

'Two girls, one who thinks about the other...' Maya thought. Could it be? Her eyes risked a glance at the other girl's face, hoping for confirmation, but she was looking at the floor between them. If Maya were wiser, she might have realized the downcast gaze was exactly the confirmation she hoped for, but she was barely aware of her own attraction. It felt more like a nameless doubt that hung on her. Had hung on her since her youth.

Maya started to reach for the book to look at the back, but changed her mind mid-reach and brushed the girl's hand with her fingers as she gave in to her doubt about the book being offered to her to examine.

The touch was electric and her hand recoiled. Never had something felt so powerful and profound. The manicured hand, soft with perfectly lacquered nails, belonged to a woman who was holding a book about two women who seemed to be in love.

Panicked that the stranger thought she touched her as a way to flirt with her, Maya snatched her hand away. Maya raised her eyes from the book cover and looked at the other girl's  face again. She was looking right at her and Maya had an instant of pure terror before she looked to the floor. Even as Maya turned her large, dark eyes downward, her hand flew to her shoulder and pulled up her shayla.

She hid behind the pink-orange fabric, blushing, but the girl's stylish heels remained unmoving. Maya's eyes roved up the stranger's legs, aware of how very shapely the were, and how her high heels accentuated the curve of her calves. Maya had seen it countless times in magazines and photos, but this was new and powerful.

She raised her eyes to the woman's face again, but she still wasn't looking at Maya.

Maya pointed with a modest, clear-coated nail , at the copy of Annie on my Mind, "Do they have that here?"

She looked away, to the book Emily had pushed back onto the shelf, but her hand  hand still rested on. Her Amish Dream. Maya could not guess what that might be about and wondered what the woman's interest in it was.

God, she wanted to touch her hand again.

[IsabellaRose]

Emily's heart would have skipped a beat had she seen Maya's hopeful, searching reaction to the book, but she didn't look up in time. By the time she did, Maya was looking at the book again. Emily's eyes lingered on Maya's features with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, but flicked away again before Maya might notice. 

As Maya's fingers brushed against hers in a fleeting touch, Emily felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her body, igniting a firestorm of emotions within her. It was as if time stood still in that moment, and all she could feel was the warmth of Maya's touch and the overwhelming desire to... do... something. But as Maya recoiled, panic flashing across her face, Emily's heart sank with disappointment and self-doubt. She had obviously misinterpreted Maya's actions. The chances of that were so slim it was practically impossible. She looked away again. She couldn't bear to face Maya's rejection.

Yet, even as Emily's gaze remained fixed on the floor, her thoughts raced with images of Maya's captivating eyes, deep pools of darkness that held a universe of untold stories and hidden desires. Whenever Emily looked into Maya's eyes, she saw a reflection of her own longing, her own yearning for connection and understanding. Or maybe she was just imagining the whole thing. The memory of their hands touching lingered in Emily's mind, a tantalizing reminder of the fleeting intimacy they had shared. She couldn't shake off the lingering warmth of Maya's touch, the way it had sparked something within her.

Emily wanted nothing more than to reach out, to take Maya's hand in hers. She imagined the thrill of their fingers intertwining, the electricity that would surge between them with each shared touch. Summoning all her courage, Emily lifted her gaze once again, and this time her eyes locked with Maya's. In that moment, she saw something flicker in Maya's eyes, a glimmer of uncertainty, perhaps, or a hint of longing that mirrored her own. 

Emily made a decision then, after Maya asked if the book was here. She reached out and gently took Maya's hand in hers, like when she used to hold hands in line in grade school. It wasn't romantic, or sexual, just a comfortable, guiding hand. And as she led Maya towards the shelf where "Annie on My Mind" awaited, Emily dared not think of what she really wanted. Instead, she decided to treat this as if Maya were any other friend. Maybe, just maybe, they could begin a shared journey later, but for now, she wanted to share something with this enchanting woman who had captured her attention.

"Here," she said, pointing to the book on the shelf. She didn't let go of Maya's hand, just letting their arms hang between them, hands clasped, hoping that it might last forever, because it was the bravest thing she'd done in as long as she could remember, and she didn't think she had the courage to do it again if Maya let go.

[WritesNaughtyStories]

When the girl took her hand, Maya's brain seized like she'd been struck by lightning. She stood, blinking, looking at their hands, bewildered by the sight and unable to reconcile the pleasure and excitement with the shock. Only a moment ago simply brushing the stranger's hand had set butterflies loose in her stomach. For an instant before Emily started to walk the other way, even the butterflies froze.

Then, at the gentle tug, Maya stumbled forward and her heart fluttered. She blinked again and shook her head to clear the sudden fog. By the second step her cheeks were hot as she blushed. Girls held hands all the time but she wasn't supposed to feel this. Maya tried to breathe. To not squeeze the girl's hand. Her hand was warm and soft, gentle in a way not even her grandmother's had been. And Maya failed. She squeezed the woman's hand, ever so softly. Nothing had ever felt more decadent, reckless and brave.

Suddenly, they stopped in front of a shelf and Maya realized two things. She didn't know where in the store they were and she hadn't breathed. But they were still holding hands. Maya looked down at their hands again. It felt like a dream and if she looked away it my evaporate with the blaring of the alarm.

21 hours ago, IsabellaRose said:

"Here,"

The alarm sounded like a girl's soft, pretty voice and Maya looked up, her dark eyes wide. The hand had not evaporated and the beautiful young woman attached to it had spoken. Maya blinked slowly, looking into the other woman's piercing blue eyes. Reluctantly she turned her head to look at the book. Maya took it off the shelf with her free hand and let it fall to her side.

She swallowed hard, trying desperately not to squeak when she spoke, "Thank you." she managed to say in an almost normal voice. She let her eyes fall to their clasped hands again and smiled even as she pressed her lips together. "I'm Maya." She said even more softly.

[IsabellaRose]

"That's a beautiful name." Emily studies Maya's face, wishing she were looking into the girl's eyes, terrified that Maya might look up at any moment and make that wish come true. 

"I'm Emily," she says, still holding Maya's hand. She doesn't dare let go, as if doing so will break some spell and Maya will disappear in a puff of smoke, a magical dream that could only remain through physical contact. She knows the idea is silly, but... she wants so much to... she doesn't dare dream of what she might want. Maya's presence, her voice, her gaze. Those things fill her with such trepidatious joy she doesn't dare dream of more. But somewhere in the back of her mind, there's more.

"Would you..." she has no idea what she's going to ask, she just knows she has to ask something. She has to keep the conversation moving. She can't let it end with them parting ways.

"Would you like to get a cup of tea? Perhaps we could read together..." It was a stupid idea. People didn't get tea and sit and read together. They talked and laughed and did all the things a wallflower like Emily could only dream about but would never experience.

She realized they were still holding hands and looked down to see their clasped hands. She still didn't want to let go, but Maya also hadn't let go. Perhaps she was just being polite. Please, thought Emily. Please let her say yes. I don't want to go home to my tiny apartment by myself again. Please.

She dared to look up at Maya's face, to her eyes. She couldn't hide the pleading look in her own, despite knowing in her hear that it would make the other girl bolt. She prayed it wouldn't.

 

 

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Emily. Such a pretty name. A proper young woman in a regency romance or something. Feminine and cultured...

"Emily," The dark eyed woman whispered. The name felt magical in her mouth. It felt like lace and ribbon. Gorgeous. "It's perfect." Perfect? It was one of the dumbest things she'd ever said. "It's so pretty." Just like you. Maya added silently, grateful she managed not to say it aloud.

Then she asked something. Maya had drifted into her big, blue eyes at some point and barely heard the question. She started to open and close her mouth - a goldfish, a teacher had once called her - as she tried to catch back up.

Tea?! Could it be more ideal? Tea was something she'd grown up with. Something she loved. There was a great Iranian place around the corner that served it strong and sweet. Maya's brain remained frozen for a moment more before she managed to blink and stammer, "Tea?" Before the word had escaped her lips Maya felt the wave of terror and doubt. Why would you say that? Of all things, you couldn't do better than mumble what she just said?

"Uh, I'd love to," she blurted. She did say "to" and not "you", right? "But I need to get home. I'm late." Her heart was racing and her pulse thundered in her ears. She couldn't leave. The confusion grew - she wanted to know Emily. But it felt so different. Behind her panic Maya knew she liked this girl, or wanted to. Emily's soft hand felt so good in hers that Maya couldn't bring herself to move. "Tomorrow at lunch?" She asked, more stunned by the fact that she heard herself say it than almost anything else.

Maya stood on her toes and looked around for the register and sank back to her heels with a nervous laugh before she turned toward the front of the store and took a hesitant step that direction, stilling holding Emily's hand.

[IsabellaRose]

Emily felt a blush creep up her cheeks when Maya said her name was pretty. She'd always thought it was plain, like Jane, or Elizabeth, or any old name. She could have had an exotic and exciting name, like Isabella, Amara, or... Maya. 

The bewildered look Maya gave her told her everything she needed to know. No one wanted to sit and read together. It wasn't a normal thing to do. Emily was expecting Maya to politely decline, but then she accepted! Emily felt that butterfly inside her ribcage flutter to life again, but then it fell into the pit of her stomach when Maya said she had to get home. But she hadn't let go of Emily's hand, and Emily wasn't letting go any time soon, unless it got more awkward. 

Maya had said something else. Tomorrow at lunch. Goodness. It wasn't the door slammed in her face she'd imagined. It was... wonderful. She needed to stare into this girl's eyes for hours, to...

She realized she was staring into Maya's eyes, holding her hand, saying nothing. She must look like a fool. Say something, say something! Her brain screamed at her, and she finally heard her own voice say, "tomorrow at lunch would be splendid! Eleven thirty?" Where had that time come from? Where were they going? What kind of tea would they drink? What would they talk about? 

While her mind was asking a million questions she couldn't possibly answer, Maya started toward the register and Emily, unwilling to let go of the girl's hand, accompanied her, blushing and looking anywhere but at Maya.

"There's a place around the corner, Shiraz Delight." Would Maya go to an Iranian restaurant? She had no idea whether she would be comfortable or offended by the suggestion. She should have picked something generic. "They have the best tea, if you like it strong and sweet. Or we could go wherever you want." Her words came out in a torrent, all at once, almost tripping over each other to get out.

[WritesNaughtyStories]

At the mention of Shiraz Delight Maya stopped and spun to stare at Emily. "Shiraz," she exclaimed, suddenly feeling like maybe she'd shouted. She lowered her voice, despite the pleasant surprise and added, "I love that place. It's the place I would suggest." She was beaming, completely unaware of how bright her smile was or that it required her whole face. Shiraz was small and cozy and her family had been there for special dinners out since Maya's childhood.

An unpleasant thought intruded on her excitement. What if they recognized her and told her mother about her date with the girl. Her smile flickered as she thought about the owner and his wife talking in Farsi behind the counter with the waiter bringing Emily and Her tea. The waiter with the earring. Maybe she was being ridiculous. Maybe it wasn't a date. She gave herself a little shake and smiled at Emily again.

She nodded eagerly, pressing her lips together to try and control the smile, "Eleven thirty is fine." The radiant smile broke through as she spoke and Maya looked away shyly, her cheeks flushing pink. It took her a moment to gather herself, but she was no longer terrified, just nervous and excited. She raised her face back to Emily's and smiled less intensely, "I'm sorry - I just don't, you know, normally talk to people." She paused awkwardly and gave her head another little shake,  "Well, not like this, or you." She felt herself getting flustered and stumbling over her words and thoughts. So she stopped and tried to take a breath.

Maya squeezed Emily's hand and gestured toward the register with the book, "Let's maybe go to the counter and I'll pay for this before I -" she stopped again and looked away. 'Before what? You say something even dumber?'

Maya turned and gently urged Emily after her to the clerk at the register. She set the book on the counter and the clerk looked at the book then the two women holding hands but said nothing as she let her gaze rove between the pair. Maya felt a little vulnerable, but refused to let go of Emily's hand as she fished in her purse for her wallet. When she found it she laid it on the counter beside the book and tried to open it with one hand, but fumbled it on to the floor. She squatted to pick it up, but had to let go of Emily. She immediately hated it. As she picked up her wallet, Maya looked up with an embarrassed smile and was struck by how beautiful Emily was from this angle. She stood up, opened her wallet and offered the bookseller her card. When the clerk took it with a practiced, professional smile, Maya brushed her hand on her skirt and wondered if she should try to take Emily's again. After she retrieved her card and put her wallet away, she did reach for Emily's hand.

She smiled at the clerk, "Thank you."

Maya turned to look at Emily's pretty face and said, her smile deepening softly, "And thank you for the recommendation."

Outside the store the evening air seemed very cold and Maya turned to face her new -friend? "Really, thank you so much, Tomorrow, Eleven thirty at Shiraz?" She asked.

[WritesNaughtyStories]

(Are we done with this?)

[IsabellaRose]

((not intentionally... I have a partial response written, but I lost steam and started playing games instead. ))

 

[WritesNaughtyStories]

(when you get to it)

[IsabellaRose]

I can't get this one back. The style is all wrong, and I'm not in the cute yuri mode.

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Lay it to rest, then? That makes me sad.

[IsabellaRose]

It makes me sad, too.  I loved those two, but I can't get the rhythm of it back.

[WritesNaughtyStories]

It happens.

I just got an idea for a final post, but it's important that I get your okay. What if Maya shows up at Shiraz Delight and Emily never shows? I don't often write that kind of sad scene and I'd like to try. I'm not sure I'll do it well but I'd like try.

[IsabellaRose]

Definitely. That could be a really touching scene.

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Maya let Emily's hand slip out of hers and watched the woman's pale fingers drift out of her grip. As the gap between their hands widened, Maya raised her eyes to Emily's again and smiled as she turned away toward home. Only a few steps later she spun on her heel and ran after her, calling Emily's name. She was gone.

'I should have given her my phone number.' she lamented, turning back to her short walk home. Sadness lingered a moment until May realized they had set a date for tomorrow. She could give Emily the number then. The thought comforted her the rest of the way home. As she approached the entrance to her building the giddiness of the encounter and the comforting weight of the book in her hand overwhelmed her. She hurried around the corner to the alley and gave a little, excited squeal as she shook herself. "She's so pretty!" she exclaimed in a loud, gleeful whisper.

She ran in place, with tiny, rapid steps to burn off the last of the nervous excitement before she went inside and headed upstairs to the apartment. Outside her own door, she took a breath and smoothed her skirt before she went inside.

"I'm home, Mama." She called. Still undecided about telling her mother about the encounter. She set the book aside as she hung up her purse and took off her shayla. Excitement still simmered near the surface as the young woman met her mother in the small kitchen. She kissed her mother who asked, "It's late where have you been?"

That made up her mind about telling Mama about Emily, "I stopped by the bookstore."

"You should have called. How do I know you're not being abducted by crazed infidels." She meant "White men" but was too aware to say it that way. Neither of them had been to mosque since before her father had died and religion wasn't something they gave any time to. But fear, conservative traditions and concern for appropriate appearances in the community pulled like gravity.

"That doesn't happen in America, Mama."

And that was how the evening went, so Maya excused herself to her room with her new book and began to read. She devoured the novel, staying up way later than she normally would, but she could see herself - a version of herself freed of old fears and biases - in the words. In the quiet hours of the morning she snuggled into her bedding, the memory of Emily's hand in hers still exhilarating and magical.

Maya dreamt, unsurprisingly of Emily and bookstores - but the books weren't in English of Farsi and the store was more than a store - was it theirs?

When morning pushed in and the vision dispersed like the candle smoke when the flame is snuffed, Maya sat up in her bed and looked around. There lay the copy of Annie on My Mind. It had happened it was more than just a dream. The date!

 

[WritesNaughtyStories]

In a panic, Maya lurched sideways to grab her phone and check the time. 7:30. Plenty of time. Four hours to get ready and half an hour to make a ten minute walk. The young woman ran her finger tips over the book, Maybe...

She looked at the photograph on the cover and wondered about the two girls. They certainly looked happy. Turning the book over in her hands and feeling the spine where Emily had touched it, Maya imagined what it would be like to hold hands like that. She lingered with that dream and the fragments of the one she'd just awoken from and closed her eyes. Sprawled diagonally across the bed, half in the covers and half out in the quiet morning, her head filled with visions of Emily and their friends, who looked a bit too much like Annie and Liza, Maya felt the happiest she had in ages. "And I'll see her again today," she whispered to herself.

The late night reading and the comfortable imaginings lured Maya to sleep and she awoke with a frightened start. Panicked anew, she looked at her phone to find only a dozen minutes had passed. Unwilling to risk it happening again, but for longer, Maya pulled herself out of bed and laid out an attractive, if modest, outfit.

As she looked at the outfit, she second guessed herself, 'It's not a date.'  She scolded herself. 'You're from a traditional home and she's probably straight.'i And then the internal argument began and Maya pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes to quiet her spiraling thoughts. When the conflict between self doubt and fear and hope and evidence stilled, the young woman looked at her clothing again. 

'Maybe not those stockings.' The opaque black was stark and the pale pink would accent the green of her skirt. Satisfied - again - she closed her eyes and remembered how good it felt to hold Emily's hand. She'd held an older man's hand a couple of years ago. Even though she'd been eager - meeting him meant she was grown enough to get married, he was established, from a good family, everything she'd been taught was important - and had anticipated it for weeks, it never felt right. Thoughts of Jenny had never left. The electric touch of Emily's finger had cemented what she'd long suspected.

Maya carried her robe to the bathroom and got in the shower. Aware of the water on her body and the soapy washcloth against her skin as what it would feel like to be caressed. Touched with desire and gentleness. What it might feel like to have a woman touch her. The thought had always been there, but she'd always shut it off, shouted it down with respectability and expectations. Those arguments seemed foolish now and she turned her face to the ceiling letting the hot water pour through her hair to wash the faintly scented conditioner out.

She dressed in a haze, trying to really embrace where she was and what she was doing. She was getting dressed to go see a woman she was attracted to who had recommended a book about two girls who fell in love.And Maya had read that book and wished Liza wore a hijab.

She'd have to tell Mama at some point.

She sat on the edge of her bed looking down at her low heeled shoes and clapped her palms on her thighs. It was 9:00 am. Two and a half hours and she was dressed and ready to go. Maya felt a kind of happiness she hadn't known since she was little as she tucked the book in her purse and kissed her mother goodbye. Maya told her mother she was going shopping - which was true. She'd go meet Emily after she shopped. 

The colors of the city seemed more vibrant, the sounds more joyful and rhythmic as Maya walked to the subway. the trip was short and she was at the door of Macy's half an hour before they opened and Maya walked the half block to a little cafe that sold spiced coffee and baklava to nosh while she waited.

The cosmetics department seemed to be entirely staffed by aging women with hard faces that warned of judgement and stern looks for an uncertain girl in a green and gold shayla so Maya walked around, pretending to browse. She saw a young man with shiny, stylish shoes, gray nail polish and a rainbow pin on the lapel of his ill-fitting suit jacket and approached him.

"Can I help?" He asked cheerily.

Maya resisted the urge to hide behind her scarf and nodded. She swallowed nervously and replied, "Um," She pressed her lips together and took another breath, "I'm meeting a girl I think I like and maybe she likes me, but I've never bought perfume."

He tipped his head to the side, resting his cheek on his perfectly lacquered nails as he looked her over. It felt like evaluation rather than judgement and Maya let her breath go. He gave a little chuckle, "It's scary, but I have some things that I think will work."

He waved her toward a far corner and pointed to a stool in front of a tall glass counter that had a box of little cardboard sticks and a jar of coffee beans. Maya looked at them uncertainly and he pointed to the cardboard, "So I don't have to spray it on either of us and get the scents all jumbled up and the coffee is to smell between samples." He patted her wrist, "Don't worry, no one knows their first time."

 

[WritesNaughtyStories]

He brought out several tester bottles in various shapes with unfamiliar names, sealed with a mix of caps and stoppers. "Most things come in sprays," he said, dipping a test strip into a bottle and reclosing it as he wafted the strip to evaporate the carrier. The clerk offered her the strip and said, as she took it, "I think this is the best for you - it seems to match your style." He gave a wave that encircled the nervous young woman, "And I love it - that kind of attractive, upscale modesty is hard, and you really have that drip working."

Maya glanced at her reflection in the mirrored display behind the cosmetics consultant and reached for her scarf to hide her blushing face. She started to lift it and hated how childish and fearful it looked. She froze and dropped it with a sheepish smile as she sniffed the sample. 

It was strong and sweet and reminded her of spiced tea with orange peel, but with rose water. Her smile broadened at the thought - it would taste awful but smelled wonderful. 

She tried the others, but Ben, according to the consultant's card, had an excellent sense of his customers, and Maya bought the first one.

"I know I don't need to tell you, but less is more - it's to draw her in, not drive her off. Spray the air and walk through." He said handing her the bag and her receipt.

As Maya thanked him, Ben winked, "Good luck."

She hurried back to the subway afraid that time was getting away from her. Waiting for the train, Maya felt the weight of time passing like the earth and buildings above her pressing down. The ride back was only a little better and she started reading the book again.

Maya lost herself in the girls' story, half dreaming of an imagined past where hopes of marrying Jenny were possible and Emily was a prom date. She glanced up from her reading and revelry to see her station and rushed off the train. 

The weekend crowd was light and Maya checked the time: half an hour to make a ten minute walk. Maya stopped by the bathroom and walked through a mist of perfume. If other women could do their makeup and spray their hair, Maya could mist herself in the light, soft scent.

She got to the tea house 15 minutes early and stopped in front of the window.

And a moment of terror seized her.

A girl. A girl she definitely has feelings for. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the noise of the city around her. Maya tensed to turn away and hurry toward home but the weight of Annie on My Mind rooted her to the spot.

Maya drew a slow breath and looked at herself in the glass. "You deserve happiness." Her reflection mouthed at her. She shook herself, nodded and smoothed her skirt. It didn't need it, but the little ritual felt like she was doing something that mattered and she walked through the door with a sliver of borrowed confidence.

Edited May 20 by WritesNaughtyStories

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Inside Maya asked the host for a table for two in a quiet corner, Books were scattered on shelves around the tea house. The host escorted her past to older men playing backgammon on an old rosewood table that had the board inlaid in the top. She'd always wanted to play on it but had never been allowed. As she slid into the seat, Maya wondered if, after the old men left, Emily would play.

When the young waiter with the earring asked her what she'd like, she said that she was waiting for someone and didn't want to order before she got here. Even as she said it, Maya realized she had told him she was meeting a girl. Mortified by outing herself, she gasped once before she realized that she wasn't actually sure she was on a date or even if she was, he either knew or cared. She smiled and asked for a glass of water for now.

As he nodded politely and walked away, Maya opened her book and picked up where she'd left off on the train. A few moments later, the waiter returned with the glass of water. She smiled and thanked him before returning to Annie and Liza.She lost herself in the book again and time passed. When she looked at her phone it was noon.

She looked around the shop, suddenly very aware that she had not ordered and Emily had not arrived. Her chest tightened and she forgot to breathe as she scrambled for what was happening. It had all seemed so certain, so clear. Emily would come, they would talk about the book, learn about each other and laugh softly at their similarities and inquire about their differences.

In truth, she sat, an untouched glass of water, ice cubes almost entirely melted, and a ring of sweat around it on the table, beside her, three-quarter read book and no Emily. Maybe she missed the train. Maybe she had to work. But she had suggested this place. She knew it, she would have known her schedule... Maybe she was excited and forgot...

Maya waved to the waiter and ordered a pot of tea, explaining that her friend had been delayed. She fingered the book nervously, afraid the young man might read the page and sus out the truth. She closed it by flipping the back cover up and sighed. When he brought the tea, Maya again thanked him and poured a cup, sipping the delightfully sweet, fragrant liquid, inhaling the aroma off the steaming tea.

It reminded her of the perfume she'd bought and a wave of fear and sadness washed over her. 'She'll be here any minute now.'

She repeated that for another hour, glancing between her phone and the book, checking the time obsessively. Maya ached inside in a way she hadn't since her whole family had chastised her so harshly for wanting to marry Jenny. Emily's absence stung like Grandma's condemnation all those years ago.

Possibilities and doubts swirled around her thoughts, jumping from heartbreak to hope with hardly a thought between. Maya wanted to cry. To hide behind her scarf. To be at home, in her room, waiting to be introduced to -

The thought choked her more than Emily standing her up and Maya bit her lip against the compounded pain. She forced herself to take a slow, measured breath and rubbed her thumb along the spine of the book - her physical link to Emily. And maybe herself.

Maya felt the tears fill her eyes. Her throat tightened as she tried to fight back the heartbreak.

'Maybe she's hurt.' That was actually worse. Or was it? It would mean that she hadn't chosen to hurt Maya. Which meant Maya would rather Emily be injured than get her feelings hurt. A new spiral began and Maya lost the battle against her tears.

She managed to avoid sobbing, but tears rolled down her cheeks as she held her head in her hands and stared at the table top. Across the tea shop the waiter watched, trying to muster up the nerve to ask the girl if she needed anything. As another teardrop splashed on the polished wood, he picked up a stack of paper napkins and sat them at her elbow.

"Here," he said simply and pushed them forward, stopping them between her elbows. 

She dabbed at her teary eyes with the back of her hand, unsure why she was trying to be surreptitious. She'd asked for a table for two and that she was expecting someone to join her, hours had passed. Everyone knew she'd been stood up. What did she think she was hiding? With a sniff, Maya wiped her eyes with a napkin and glanced up as the young man walked away.

"Thank you."

Emily started to get up to leave.

She reached for the book and felt a flash of anger as the hurt surged. It was stupid. Why would a girl like Emily meet her? Maya glared at the book as if it was accusing her of- 'Of what, exactly, Maya? Being gay?'

She'd grabbed the book to- she didn't know what,throw it? Dump it in the trash? Abandon it on one of the shelves with the Clive Cussler and Kathy Reichs novels and the lone, worn copy of The Rubaiyat? She turned the novel to face her and looked at the girls on the cover, and reflected on how they had come together, fallen apart and found their way back. 

Emily had shown her the book, shown her where to get it. Maybe the universe knew something she and Emily didn't and planned for them to have this story.Or maybe she'd just gotten lucky.

Suddenly the path became clear and Maya hurried to the maitre'd and pointed to her table, "I'll be right back - if a girl comes looking for a girl who was waiting or asks for Maya, seat her there and tell her I'll be right back. Please?" She pushed money at him to cover her bill and practically ran around the corner to the bookstore.

Normally she'd just search for what she wanted rather than ask for help, but she needed to get back to Shiraz. She asked for a journal and if they sold envelopes. They didn't but the clerk gave her one of the store's for a dollar. Maya declined a bag but did get $40 cash back before racing back to her table.

Still no Emily. It hurt less seeing the empty table. It hurt, but with the sweetness of hope and the realization that maybe Emily was just the catalyst she had been secretly waiting for since she was six.

She sat back down at the chair that less than half an hour ago felt 

Maya wrote the letter in long, elegant strokes, earned with long practice copying ayah in school and her grandmother's insistence on impeccable Farsi penmanship. .

Emily,

If you ever get this, first, I'm sorry. I should have given you my number. I tried to. I came back but I couldn't find you. If I mistook your intentions, I'm sorry for that too. I hope you're safe and happy.

And thank you. Meeting you and reading "Annie on My Mind"  made me face what I had always known anyway. It's scary - I don't know how I'm going to tell my mother, but at least it's just me and her.

I confess, I'm sad you didn't come and have told myself you couldn't. I'm terrified that means something bad happened and feel selfish for thinking it. Please know, the anger I felt was unjust and has passed and I would love to see you.

She spent another half an hour, looking up quotes to page numbers that would give Emily haer phone number and included a pair of things that couldn't be found in the book: the sate they met and the train number. She explained it in the letter and added:

I will keep the phone for as long as I possibly can - Maybe Annie and Liza aren't just make believe.

It's strange and bittersweet, but very much "Love"

Maya

Maya sat and looked at the letter, wondering if there was any real chance Emily would ever read it. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it was as much for her as it was Emily and the hope that it might get found was reason enough to write it. She caressed the page, recalling how Emily's hand had felt in hers, smiled and folded it up, tucked it in the page she'd been reading and turned to the front. She wrote another note:

If you find this book, I put two $20 bills and an envelope marked Emily. If the money is here and you want to read the book, take a twenty and buy one, but please, leave the book and the envelope here. It's a love letter for the girl who gave me the book.

If all the money is gone, take the book and leave the letter, please. If you must read the letter, go ahead - I'm done being ashamed - but please, please leave it here.

Thanks,

M

She copied it over in Farsi and Arabic, each on a subsequent page, hoping to catch as many eyes as possible and send them looking for one they could read. A steady hand slid the book to the side and picked up the tea cup. It was cold. So was the pot.

She sighed with an exasperated grin. The afternoon had been stressful and exhaustion was creeping up on her. She waved to the waiter, ordered a single cup of tea and waited. She worried about Emily but with the same affection Maya held for Jenny.

When her tea came, Maya drank it. Breathing the aroma that reminded her of Emily. It might always be who Maya associated her perfume with. She finished her tea quickly and added the book to one of the shelves as she paid her bill and left.

Edited May 20 by WritesNaughtyStories

[IsabellaRose]

The rhythmic clacking of the train wheels against the tracks brought Emily back to that day a year ago, the last time she'd been on this train. She sat by the window, staring out the window without seeing the passing landscape. The book sat on the empty seat beside her, the same one she'd been reading that day. She didn't know why she'd brought it. She didn't even know why she'd decided to come back. There was no way Maya would remember her even if she could find her, and the chances of that were so slim the trip was probably pointless. She knew it was a fools errand, but something in her needed to see it through, to at least try.

She'd been physically able to make the trip many months ago. The accident had left her hospitalized, badly injured and struggling to survive. Her upper torso had been... she still couldn't remember the impact. She remembered having been out to breakfast with her family at the cafe across the street, a treat from her father for her little sisters' birthday. They'd all been together, laughing, smiling, and then a distant horn honking, the screeching of tires, the flash of something impossibly large and darkness. The details had been filled in later, by the police, by the nurses, and in court by half a dozen eye witnesses and as many experts, in excruciating detail. 

The driver of the truck had been on amphetamines and had been awake for two straight days. He had been speeding down the highway, had lost control of the rig, blasted through a guard rail and into the street beside the highway, and continued on into their neighborhood. The Accident Reconstruction Expert said that the driver must have had his foot on the gas pedal the entire time as he powered down the street, destroying one parked car after another, leveling street lights, fire hydrants, garbage cans, and finally, eleven people at the cafe where her and her family had been enjoying breakfast. Six dead, five more injured. Among the dead were her mother, father, and sister. Emily had barely survived, her head and chest partially crushed, her torso and one kidney punctured.

Surprisingly, the damage looked worse than it was. Minor reconstructive surgery gave her face back, more or less. She had a different nose, but she was probably the only one who could tell. Her face had remained incredibly free of permanent scarring. The plastic surgeons worked magic. Her chest, on the other hand, bore massive scarring from the burns and lacerations. She'd never wear a bikini or off the shoulder dress again. High collars were her new favorite style. The burns had also damaged her throat, and permanently changed her voice. She could speak and didn't even sound strange to people who'd never met her, but the change in her voice was so obvious. She sounded like someone else, like some cross between her mother and a chain smoker. She hated her voice now, and so she barely spoke, and when she did, she kept her voice quiet, almost a whisper.

She'd been in the hospital for a while, and then stayed with her aunt while she continued to convalesce. Life insurance money had finally come through, and the wrongful death case against the company that owned the truck was about to be settled; there was no way they would let it go to court. Within a month, her portion of the settlement would leave her with more cash than she could ever reasonably spend. She'd never have to work, never need for anything, but the future was still so bleak. Her family was gone. Her life as she'd known it had ended that day, and a new life had started, one filled with grief, loss, and pain. 

Her aunt, while not her favorite person, had been there for her, had taken her in, cared for her, and been the family she'd needed. But her aunt was distant and cold. She had planned to return to the city when she'd healed and received her settlement. But she felt uncomfortable in the big house in the country. She felt lonely. And the timing... the anniversary of the accident was approaching, and she hadn't been back to their neighborhood since it happened. She needed to visit the site, to see the place where it had happened, live and in person instead of in those evidence photos in the courtroom. The thought of returning there terrified her, but also gave her the tiniest shiver of hope.

There had been a single positive thing in that twenty-four hour period. She had met a girl. She had felt a connection and attraction unlike any other before or since. She couldn't explain it, had no idea why of all the things she experienced, that moment in the bookshop with Maya still seemed so real in her mind, in her heart, but it gave her something positive upon which to focus, possibly the only positive thing from that entire week, and so she clung to it. She likely exaggerated it up in her mind. Made it more than it really had been. But she had held onto it like a life preserver in a raging sea, the one good thing. The one glimmer of hope for something good in a life torn asunder.

The sound of the brakes indicated that they were nearing her stop, and Emily knew that she would step off of the train into the same station where she had always stepped out after work before the accident. She would walk down the same street, to the same bookstore. She would turn the corner, head another three blocks and then turn again to find Shiraz Delight, if the place was even still in business. She would look at every face and in every window, searching for a shayla and a pair of eyes she would recognize anywhere. She would hope and pray and very likely never see Maya again. But she would have tried, and she had to try. She had to at least try. 

Emily picked up her copy of Annie on my Mind from the empty seat beside her and clutched at the book as if it were some kind of magical talisman. She took a deep breath, stood, and stepped off of the train onto the platform. It was time to find out what fate had in store.