"The Third Eye Opens"
The tab dissolved on Davina’s tongue like a secret. Bitterness bloomed, then faded. Ellie watched her with those honey-warm eyes, her own tab already dancing under her tongue.
They sat cross-legged in a circle of cushions, deep in the back room of Trippy Treasures—a place that looked like it had been pulled from the mind of a cosmic octopus. The air smelled of patchouli and cannabis, and black light bathed everything in violet glow. Their hands touched, fingers laced loosely. The connection hummed even before the acid hit.
They weren’t dating. Not yet. But they’d been orbiting each other for weeks—at open mics, art shows, in parks where Davina spun poi and Ellie read poems about ghosts and girls. Something had been blooming in the shadows, and tonight they’d decided to take the veil off.
“I want to see everything,” Ellie whispered.
“Even the stuff that’s too much?” Davina asked, her voice soft like a chord plucked on a harp made of glass.
“Especially that.”
The come-up hit slowly, like the sun rising in reverse. Colors deepened. Time fractured. The music—was there music?—became a liquid creature slithering through the air. Laughter bubbled up between them, and suddenly the floor wasn’t floor but a ripple of breathing colors. Ellie lay back and stared at the ceiling, where a black light mandala began to pulse like it knew her name.
Davina hovered above her, glowing. Her hair shimmered with ultraviolet threads, and her pupils were huge, swimming. She touched Ellie’s cheek, and her fingers left trails of light.
“You’re so beautiful,” Davina said. “It’s terrifying.”
Ellie giggled. “Why terrifying?”
“Because I can see your soul. It’s loud. And it’s singing to mine.”
Ellie sat up and kissed her.
It wasn’t a “maybe we’ll kiss” kind of kiss. It was a deep, slow, third-eye-opening kiss. A soul dissolve. Their body paint smeared together. Ellie’s skin was galaxies. Davina’s skin was the same.
They lay there in each other’s arms, lost in each other's breath and heartbeats, floating through dimensions that didn’t have names. The acid stripped away fear, left only truth. Davina cried at one point, overwhelmed by the purity of the moment. Ellie held her like a spell.
Later, they watched the sunrise from the roof of the shop, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket that smelled like sage and resin. The sky was pink and orange, melting into itself like a slow sigh.
“Did we fall in love tonight?” Ellie asked.
“I think we just remembered that we already were,” Davina said.
They held hands.
The trip ended.
The love stayed.
@justdavina @848ellie
