T/W: Minor drinking and personal confrontation.

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Tallie

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Never in my life has someone done for me what Abigail had. I was blown away.  As we sit there, enjoying the roast chicken, baked potatoes and a tossed salad with Italian dressing and that delicious lemon meringue pie and some white wine, something strange stirs within my belly. Something unexplainable. Something also relating to...passion.

I mean, I've had my fair share of flings, one night stands and I did date this one woman, a few years back, for six months and let me tell you: none of them made me feel this way before.

None.

Abigail is speaking about her..ex. Nothing overly personal, mind you, just a few tidbits here and there. And although, I'm the one, sitting here, enjoying this majestic moment with her, as Abigail shares her thoughts, the tiniest bit of jealousy flutters inside my chest. I squash it down around my ankles, reminding myself that I'm the one enjoying Abigail's company now and have no reason to feel threatened.

My expression must convey something out of the ordinary because Abigail stops mid sentence, her mouth turned down just a smidgen. I mentally scold myself, not wanting to admit my insecurities.

"Everything all right?" Abigail asks. I smile, nodding.

"Of course. It's fantastic," I reply, noting that my tone is laced with false cheerfulness. Abigail sighs, leaning closer, our hands brushing. That electric spark from the first time we touched, fires again, causing my breath to catch in my throat.

"I shouldn't have..said anything about my..ex." Abigail's tone is soft, the guilt noticeable. I shake my head.

"I'm not, under any circumstances, going to tell you what to talk about. Sometimes, we just need to get things off our chest." Abigail nods, her dark eyes, slowly beginning to glaze over. I gently take her hand, her warm skin pressed into mine. It's comforting.

"Your empathy inspires me," she murmurs, her thumb running across the back of my hand.

"Does it?" Our eyes lock again, the sexual tension palpable. I picture grabbing her face, pressing my lips to hers and just allowing that simple gesture to carry me away on a cloud of desire and tenderness, albeit something a little more passionate than earlier.

"Yes. My..ex, Evelyn, she wasn't exactly the empathic sort."

"What drew her to you?" I ask. Abigail's gaze clouds over.

"I suppose, if I were to be honest, her physical appearance." I'm not expecting that response. I must look surprised because Abigail chuckles softly.

"You think me shallow." I shake my head.

"Absolutely not. I think you're normal." Abigail scoffs.

"Normal? Not sure if you've noticed, but our lifestyle is far from the social norms."

"While I agree most people find the same sex attractive, unappealing, that doesn't make it wrong," I say quietly. Abigail gives my fingers a gentle squeeze before pulling away. Disappointment stabs me in the chest, but I understand if she's still struggling with letting in someone new.

"The majority of my life, I've always been afraid to show others this unique side of me. Even when Evelyn and I were together, that feat still resigned within me."

"It's not easy admitting to the world who we truly are," I say. "Especially when, for centuries, people like us have had to hide from others, fearful of their reactions."

"I've often asked myself why do others find our lifestyle so strange?"

"Probably because most people passed it on down from generation to generation, telling others it was wrong," I reply. Abigail studies me.

"I always thought it was more due to those in higher places, who deemed this lifestyle wrong," she murmurs. I shrug, feeling a little uncomfortable. I know what she means, but we've only just met and I fear, if I disagree, it'll drive a wedge between us.

Luckily, Abigail decides to drop the subject. Relieved, I stand up and assist her in cleaning up. She tries shooing me away, but I just grin, and keep on.

"You have a bit of a rebellious streak," Abigail comments as I carry some dirty dishes into her kitchen, setting them on the counter. I chuckle.

"You have no idea." Abigail chuckles herself, the invisible veil of discomfort, dissolving. She brings in the almost empty wine bottle, placing it in the fridge before swiveling to face me.

"I should head out," I say. "I'm bushed from work." Abigail nods, but steps closer, enveloping me in a hug. I rest my chin on her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her, closing my eyes, breathing in her perfume. Neither of us, it seems, is inclined to let go.

After several minutes pass, I reluctantly pull away, smiling and thanking Abigail for dinner. She returns the smile, walking out into the hallway with me. We bid each other goodnight.

As I let myself into my dark apartment, I softly close the door, leaning against it, recalling the words of Abigail when she was speaking about her...ex. I sigh, as the realization dawns on me. While, Abigail is obviously attracted to me, she still isn't in the right place, mentally, to become involved with another person.

Including me.

****

I don't sleep well. I toss and turn half the night, grateful that at least I'm not due into work as early the following day. I can't shake this uncomfortable feeling that although Abigail may want a relationship with me, would she be able to fully put herself into it?

****

All the next day at work, I ponder about Abigail and rather we'd able to actually be able to move forward with a serious relationship. Obviously we're both deeply attracted to one another, however relationships need more just the physical aspects to make things work.

She'd said her previous relationship was mostly based on the physical attraction between the two and since I don't even know how long they were together, (although I'm thinking quite a while), what made Abigail stick around?

The two things I know for sure are: Abigail was deeply attracted to her ex and that the woman lacked empathy. But surely Abigail had other traits that she liked about her ex. From the most we met, I sensed the grief that Abigail was harboring. I can't help but wonder; was her ex simply using her or did she honestly have deep rooted feelings of love and tenderness for Abigail?

I'm curious, but that's not really any of my business. Besides, as fresh as this grief is for Abigail, an interrogation would only drive that grief in further.

And that's the last thing I want for her.

****

As I'm unlocking my front door, I hear raised voices coming from Abigail's apartment. I drop my purse and keys just inside the door, leaving it cracked, rushing over and frantically knocking on the door. The voices still and...silence. Panic grips me as I fruitlessly twist on the locked door handle.

The door abruptly opens, and I nearly tip forward, straight into Abigail's body. She catches me and I feel her trembling. I gaze into her face, which is beet red. Another person steps into my line of sight. I frown. It's a woman, tall, slender, red hair, green eyes, dressed impeccably, in a cream colored suit with a pale, blue blouse and black high heels. Her arms are crossed as she scowls at me.

I straighten up and immediately, Abigail gropes for my hand, gripping it almost painfully. The woman arches one of her finely shaped eyebrows, switching her glare between Abigail and myself.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" The woman asks Abigail, whose eyes are now trained on the carpet.

"I'm Tallie," I offer. The woman just continues to glare. I'm dying to know who this person is and why the hell she's at Abigail's. I decide to just bulldoze forward.

"Who are you?" I ask. The woman offers a malicious smile and my stomach tightens up. Immediately I know exactly who she is.

"Why, darling, I'm Evelyn. Abby's girlfriend."

****

The world stops just as the words fall from Evelyn's lips. Abigail's head snaps up, a mixture of rage and hurt on her face. She releases my hand, pushing forward, facing Evelyn, her hand raises and...a sharp crack as her fingers collide with one of Evelyn's fine cheekbones.

I gasp, shock coursing through me, unable to comprehend what Abigail just did to Evelyn. Evelyn's eyes widen, a small gasp of her own escaping from her mouth. Abigail glares.

"What the hell?! Girlfriend?! Have you lost your damn mind? We are not together anymore! That ship sailed the day you walked out!"

Evelyn's face turned nearly purple, a vein in her neck, protruding as she sputtered and hissed, like a feral cat whom had been disturbed. A smirk appears on Abigail's face.

"You bitch!" Evelyn huffs. "You have the gall to strike me? The woman you love?"

"Correction," Abigail says. "The woman I did love." Evelyn's fingers caress the red mark on her cheek.

"I suppose you're screwing this one, hoping to ease your suffering?" Evelyn was shooting daggers at me, but there was no way I was leaving Abigail alone, against this witch.

Abigail scoffs, her boldness building as she faces down her ex. I admire her audacity, unwilling to back off from this fight.

"Why should you give a damn?" Abigail snaps. "I don't owe you an explanation." Evelyn is still caressing her wounded cheek, although I highly doubt it really hurts all that badly. Her expression has softened as she reaches out to Abigail, who neatly sidesteps her.

"Abby, dearest, come now." Evelyn's tone is honey coated, all earlier traces of hostility vanished. "We had something amazing together, didn't we? Don't tell me you're so eager to throw it away?"

I stare at Abigail, who's wavering. I  can see it in her eyes, the longing and it cuts me deeply. I release a shaky breath and out of the corner of my eye, I see the tiniest smirk, twitching at Evelyn's lips. She knows she's gaining ground. I expect Abigail to break beneath the strain and go rushing into Evelyn's arms. However, she surprises me.

"Get the hell out, bitch. And so help me, if you return, I'll deform that pretty, pretty face of yours."