LAURA CORNELL & SARA CASTILLO
Fate found her before Laura could catch her breath. That’s the thing with Sara, she was always chasing a logical approach, her emotions swimming beneath. Laura locked eyes with her, and the world slowly fell into place. All the jagged pieces of this new heart were mended at the taller brunette’s hands around a coffe mug, chipped nail polish and a sort of uneasy glance that made the ocean spray seem close by. To wash the anger that lay deep in Laura’s skin.
Colton looked at the two, oblivious to their meeting in this world. Even though Laura could never love anyone but Sara... Cole was a very close second to a soulmate.
“You know each other?” His voice echoed.
Sara’s smirk normally lay hidden. Behind the curtains of a large bed chamber where Laura hid her lady; in town, passng-by as two good friends (but lay beneath the skirts of her); a general and her sweet, somber songbird who met one night in Moscow for the American singer to the Russian general, and then again, when she could come back to her arms; the reckless love that Laura had carried with her of anything to soothe the tides, and Sara catching glances at her when Laura knew she wasn’t looking. Hidden threads woven into the greater picture that there had never been a happy ending.
Some things had never changed, though.
The fact Laura was always a water spirit, and a raging emotional wreck. Poppy potions were the first choice, and mead, and it became harder and harder to pull away from whatever she could find. She was always someone with a voice, starlight and moonshine melodies. She always found Sara, first.
Sara was always brighter than any man in the room. She fought harder to be hidden, her beauty effortless and radiant and still so smooth. She was colder, hardened by the early life struggles Laura never got to know. But, Sara was always the one to tie her to this world.
“Something like that.” Sara sat down with her coffee, and Laura’s. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you liked mochas.” The easy cadence they had grown to love washed over Laura like being baptised. It was cleansing, freeing, and she smelled like a fresh fire, cinnamon candies, like clean sheets to toss around till the sunlight poured into a small room, where it could only be them.
Laura’s perfectly manicured ones took the mug. Extra sauce on the bottom-- she could smell it.
The placed grin told Sara everything, “How did you know?”
“Just a feeling, I guess.”
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