Olivia Blake (ex_joiedeviv804) wrote in toujoursliberer, @ 2008-07-06 08:58:00 |
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The more and more Olivia saw of Olga the more she missed her when they were apart. She could not explain it, she would burn and ache when the older woman was not beside her, and yet when she was there it seemed to grow worse because she denied everything the russian had stirred within her. What she felt was wrong, she had to keep telling herself, especially when her skin accidentally touched hers or when their eyes lingered fixed upon each other's a second too long. The flesh was sinful in it's ways, or so she had been told, to lose one's self to it's desires was surely the road to damnation. She needed to regain control of herself if she were to safeguard her immortal soul, and yet during her prayers images flooded her mind. A stand of her hair falling to frame her face as she focused on her numbers. Her leaning in close to observe Olivia explaining equations. Her teeth biting into her lip as she tried to work out an answer in her mind, how she wanted to kiss those lips, to taste what she knew had to be the sweetest thing in creation. Olivia never had to stop her prayers for a long walk or a cold bath before, but now it seemed she could not pray for more than a few moments. After all, she had to reign her wantonly sinful body in, the Lord would understand if she could not pray as she should. Earlier that day, after she sent the carriage for Olga, she prayed again. She prayed for the Lord to give her guidance and strength against temptation. She actually managed to pray until the carriage returned with her friend; she did her best to focus on the business at hand. She promised to teach her arithmetic, and by God she was going to do it without unnatural thoughts clouding her mind. The only way she could find to cope with her thoughts and urges was to be distant. She wasn't cold, but she wasn't herself either. She always kept a few steps away from her, and did her best not to look her in the face. She was doing well up until Olga was having trouble with her fractions and she had to lean in close to correct her work. Her smell was what started it, she had that hint of 'London smell' about her, but ignoring that she could smell the true scent of her. It made her knees feel weak and she suddenly felt as if she could smell only one thing for the rest of her days it would be her. But she pressed on. Her hand moved across her arm to grab the quill, the thrill of that touch sent shock waves through her. Fire raged though her veins and if felt as if lighting had struck her. It was too much and she found herself wanting more. She pulled away as if she had been burned and looked as if she could turn tail and run, "Tea!" she blurted out before she could think. "Yes, yes, I suppose it's a good spot to stop and have a tea break. Are you ready for some tea, Olga? English tea is a little different from what you're used to having, I'm sure." she knew she was talking but she wasn't completely sure what she was saying, all her attention seemed to be focused on not blushing. Never in Olga's life had a feeling like this cropped up. It was a new feeling, and an amazing one. A feeling that could only be described as fire and ice and electricity all at once. A deep burning, a chill and a crackle that all came together when Olivia Blake was in the room, close to her, helping her, talking, breathing, existing... Olga was perplexed, but intrigued. She knew, on some deep level, that this was wrong, but her religion had been thrown to the wind somewhere along the way. Probably when she'd considered prostitution as a trade. So the God issue didn't come into it; it was simply a society issue. This was wrong in the eyes of society, and it was for that reason that she tried to suppress it. Should it be revealed, Olivia would surely push her away, call her disgusting and tell her she hated her. And Olga wouldn't be able to stand that. But perhaps she already knew, because today she was distant and Olga wondered what she'd done wrong. She wouldn't look her in the eye, or stay close, or sit by her to help. And she was doing well, she was, until she stumbled on one particularly difficult sum, and then she turned, giving Olivia a sheepish look and requesting help in that clumsy accent. And things seemed to be okay, but then Olivia flinched and pulled back when she touched her, began rambling about tea, and Olga's heart sunk. Maybe she knew. She must know. She must have been able to tell from the touch, and now she was unnerved, perhaps she even pitied the poor, disgusting Russian, so barbaric in her desires. With a simple nod, Olga replied, "Tea would be lovely. Thank you." Her voice was filled with an emotion that betrayed her fear, and she turned back to the page of sums quickly, trying to focus on the equation she couldn't do. The door handle did not want to work, no matter which way she turned it the thing did not want to open for her. She fumbled with it for a long few moments before it finally gave way and she nearly stumbled out the door and into the hall. She walked a few feet down the hall before she paused and shoved herself back against the wall, her thumb coming up to her lips and she bit the nail. Why was her heart beating so fast and so hard? Why could she not control herself? And most importantly why could he not stop thinking of the woman she had just left in the study? She had no answers for herself and it troubled her. She was completely ashamed of herself, and for the moment her shame was enough to get her head straight, or at least that was what she thought. She called for one of the servants to bring tea up to the study, there was a 'yes, miss' that came promptly in return. She would have to go back in there, she would have to do her best to teach while giving no hints of her unnatural thoughts and desires. She was not going to worry about what Olga would say or how she would react, she was not going to tell her, she valued her friendship too much to ruin it in such a way. Olivia returned to the study, a false smile on her lips, doing her best not to let her eyes linger too long on the woman. "You are doing so well, truly. It took me ages to understand all this, but you pick it up as if it comes naturally to you. I am only saddened that I am not better at it, you will no doubt soon surpass me and we will no longer have a need for our lessons." but that thought, not seeing Olga regularly, was painful. Her voice broke by the end of that sentence and she could feel the tears forming in her eyes. She rushed to the window behind the other woman and stared out, she tried to keep them from falling, but the tears came and she could only hope she would not turn and see them on her cheeks. Oh, no. No, no. Surely she must know, because now she was crying! Olga felt her heart leap and tears of her own began to surface; this wasn't fair. Her own body had betrayed her, and was ruining her friendship with this beautiful woman. Even that spoke volumes. There were so many other, platonic adjectives that could've been used there, but 'beautiful' was the one she kept coming back to. Beautiful. So beautiful. Perfect, a perfect English rose, so delicate and fresh. Olga could lavish her with attention forever if she had the chance. But now she was crying, and Olga was certain it was because of her own horrid desires. She stood, looking at her feet sheepishly, folding her hands in front of her skirts. She felt somewhat like a naughty little girl about to be chastised by her father. "I... I'm sorry, Olivia, I have been a terrible person." She took a step forwards, a little closer to the girl by the window, and she reached her hand out, resting it tentatively on her shoulder. Her thumb brushed a little too close to the nape of her neck to be totally friendly, but she hoped it would go unnoticed. "I'm so sorry for the way I feel. Perhaps it would be best if these lessons did stop. That way, you can... you can breathe easy again, without fear of my... awful, ungodly desires." She had no idea that Olivia wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about. She had even less of an idea that Olivia felt the same way. Her touch sent heat flooding through her again, but this time she did not fight it, she let it wash over her as she listened to that accent that set her heart to fluttering. "No!" she blurted out at the suggestion that the lessons stop, that they stop seeing one another. 'Awful, ungodly desires' filled her heart with hope. Hope that she felt the same as she did and hope that the way they felt for one another was not wrong as everyone said. "Please, don't talk like that, I would be miserable if I did not see you again." She turned, looking her in the eye for the first time that day. She was going to tell her, she could not stop herself now. "But I am miserable, Olga. Whenever I am without you, I feel empty and I can do nothing but think of you, think of things that are wrong and unnatural." she brought a hand up and wiped away some of her tears, discovering they had stopped. "It is even worse when I am with you, because... Because I want you, I want to be with you always, and thinking you would push me away if you knew hurts more than anything I have ever experienced. I have done everything I can think of to stop these feelings and to push you from my thoughts, but nothing works and you are always in my mind." it all came spilling out before she could stop to think, but she meant every word. Olga listened, and listened. She couldn't quite comprehend what she was hearing for a moment, but when she did, she felt a feeling she hadn't expected. Upset. Almost anger. "D-Do not mock me!" She stammered out, stumbling over her accent. She turned away, going back to the desk, sitting down and holding her head in her hands. "I, I cannot help how I feel! It is bad enough without you mocking me, I cannot take it, please, don't." She buried her face in her hands, shaking as she tried to suppress tears. This wasn't fair. She shouldn't be feeling this way, so disgusting and wrong. If her sisters could see her now, her parents... they'd be so horrified and disappointed in the woman she'd become. After running away with that Frenchman, and now living in London, desiring another woman. She was an awful person. An awful, filthy person, and she readied herself for Olivia to tell her this. She felt completely and utterly confused, and honestly a little hurt by her sudden turn. "Olga..." she said softly, sounding lost and more than a little hurt. "I feel more for you than I have ever felt for anyone. How could I mock you? How could I ever be so cruel?" with lightly trembling hands she came up behind her and touched her shoulder, feeling awful that she was so broken up. She could not understand why she did not believe her, but Olivia was the sort to believe anything. She had been completely honest with her, and she thought she was mocking her. "Have I not always been honest with you?" she had not come right out with the way she felt at first, but she had never told her a lie. "The way I feel, how much it hurts, I could not lie about that. But if you are so sure, I will leave you be, keep myself from you for the rest of my days, because I only ever want you to be happy, even if it is that you would be happier without me." admitting that and thinking for a moment that she would wish her from her life hurt more than anything. She saw the little glimer of hope now growing smaller and smaller, she began to think she was being punished for feeling the way she did. Olga didn't want to believe it. She was frightened, scared to. So scared to open herself up in case it turned out this had been a cruel joke after all. But she couldn't see Olivia being so awful, and she sounded so genuine, so hurt... Olga couldn't help but sniff, closing her eyes and wiping at her face. "Oh, Olivia..." She whispered, turning herself to take her hand. "Olivia, are you telling me what I think you are? That... that you feel as I do? This... burning inside me, it can't go away, I can't make it leave. I don't know how to quell this desire..." She hesitated, and then, with a trembling hand, she lifted Olivia's own to press a very gentle kiss to her knuckles, savouring the feel and taste of the slender digits. So beautiful... so, so beautiful. If this was really happening, if this was really true and not a dream, then Olga wouldn't let this moment break for love nor money. She couldn't. She wouldn't allow it. Her heart was pounding in her ears now. Was this really happening? That they felt the same for each other and they could ignore it no longer? It was almost too good to be true. She nodded, not knowing what to say, gently squeezing the hand that held her own. It was wonderful to know that she was not alone in her feelings, and she began to wonder if what they felt was truly so wrong. She felt no control over her feelings, and she had not willed herself to feel as she did, if it was something beyond her control how could it be called wrong? "Olga, I..." but nothing else came from her save a soft gasp when her knuckles were kissed. That heat had returned, that longing for her and yet it was so much more wonderful now that she knew her precious Olga felt the very same things she did. "I'm sorry, I could not let myself be close to you today because I feared you would hate me and turn away if you knew. And yet you were the only thing I could think of, even while we went over those silly equations. I did not mean to make you think I was turning away from you." |