restless feeling in my soul

“Hardly. We never got snow like this back in Louisiana. I’m still tryin’ to wrap my head ‘round the idea that one place could be hit with so much at one time.” Carcosa replied, curls of steam forming in the air as the brunette spoke, dissipating just as quickly as they had appeared. “Sounds like this storm’s supposed to be a real doozy.” A single brow arched in response to the woman’s question. “Well, that certainly doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend Valentine’s Day. Definitely better than some’a the ways I’ve spent mine in the past.” She chuckled, remembering previous nights spent curled up on her couch with a joint and a book or scrubbing questionable substances from the floor of the bar. This would be the first year Carcosa took Valentine’s day seriously, her plans for a much needed getaway with Cyrek giving the holiday a newfound shine. “I’m sure you’ve already heard ‘be yourself’ enough times to last you the next two decades, so I’ll spare ya on that one.” She was silent for a moment, chewing her words carefully as she tried to think of advice that was a bit more useful. “Keep an open mind. Be direct an’ honest with ‘em if you don’t see things workin’ out. Always have a friend on standby if it turns out you’ve been set up with a complete nutjob and ya need a quick escape. And most importantly? Remember to breathe.”

“I think I’m a pretty decent one. I might not be the next Gordon Ramsay, but I do alright. Norma’s never been able to make so much as a piece of toast without burnin’ it. Dad’s actually the one I learned the majority of my cooking skills from, along with a few old cookbooks I found in our attic when I was somewhere around twelve.”

“I don’t think I’ve believed in fairytales since I was six, my friend.”

carcosa tara janie

Soft sighs and muffled moans of pleasure turned into something louder and more urgent in their final moments of bliss. Carcosa always did her best to keep her volume to a minimum, largely due to the fact that she never wanted to risk waking her mother, but partially because she’d just never been a particularly loud lover. Or at least, not until she first slept with Cyrek. He just had a way of bringing something entirely different out of her; something more passionate and less inhibited, Carcosa often forgetting that her deadbeat mother even existed during their frequent romps, instead succumbing to the satisfaction her partner worked so hard to provide and losing herself in the moment, completely handing herself over to him. She shuddered as the final waves of her climax washed over her, still clinging to Cyrek as he peppered her neck with kisses, the brunette cocking her head and arching her back just slightly to press into his touch. She’d almost let the words slip just moments before the end, a desperate ‘I love you’ forming on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t the first time the words had dared to escape, but it was the closest call she’d had yet, the first two words of the deceleration managing to actually spill over in the midst of it all. Thankfully, Carcosa had caught herself before she could complete that sentence, covering up her fumble with a moan and a sensual “I love it when you do that.’  ( Perhaps if she knew of the tragedy that would come to light just hours after what was supposed to be their final rendezvous, she would have made a different choice. ) There was something different about tonight’s hookup, Carcosa decided as Cyrek rolled off of her, only to immediately pull her in close. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what exactly had changed, couldn’t even articulate what felt so different about this night in particular compared to every other. But something told her there had been a shift - specifically in Cyrek, and it made the pit of her stomach twist and turn with a heavy sense of unease. It wasn’t that he’d done anything wrong; the sex had been fantastic, the banter was still there, he was affectionate and loving, even more so than usual. He still appeared to be the same old Cyrek that she’d come to love and know, but at the same time, it all felt so... hollow. Almost as if the light inside of him had gone out, and he was simply running going through the motions and putting on a carefully constructed mask to keep her from worrying. He was incredibly doting and attentive, pulling the bartender so tightly to him that the only way for them to be any closer would be if their skin fused together. But it also felt as if there was some sort of distance between them, Cyrek’s mention of needing to leave early that night sparking confusion in his lover. “I’ll be fine. You know I can handle Norma.” She lifted her hand to gently cup his face, her thumb idly stroking over his cheekbone. It wasn’t like him to tap out so early, the two of them usually pushing their time together as far it could stretch. “What’s the rush, though?” She asked, placing a few tender kisses along his jaw. “I kinda planned on bein’ selfish tonight and keepin’ ya all to myself.” Her eyes searched for his in the darkness, the soft light of the moon spilling through her window only illuminating his outline. “I’m gonna miss you.” Any other time, the sentiment would’ve been well-received. But something about it felt wrong, like there was a deeper hidden meaning that Carcosa had yet to unveil. “I... I’m gonna miss you too, but you’re not leavin’ that soon, right? I thought you still had a little more time before your text tour.” She squeezed his hand, trying to shake the feeling of dread that rested so heavily on her chest away. Maybe she was reading too far into things, or perhaps she was just being ridiculously needy. She tried to convince herself that this was all in her head, that her anxiety was just getting the best of her at the worst of times, as it so often did. But something continued to gnaw at the back of her skull despite her best efforts to silence it. Something in her gut told Carcosa to make him stay. “I believe you’re the one that finds their way into trouble.” She teased, a tiny smirk twitching the corners of her lips upwards. “But maybe if you stayed here tonight, I’d be more inclined to keep myself in line.” Her lips found his neck, nails dragging themselves down the center of his back. “Well, mostly in line, anyway.”

janie

“Fantastic ass, but a terrible ego.” The idea of prompting the dreaded question had crossed her mind on several occasions. The words had formed one too many times on the tip of her tongue, forced down and crammed back into a neat little box where she kept everything so carefully tucked away, only to claw their way out and attempt to break free once again the next time her hand instinctively reached for his or their gazes lingered on one another for just a bit too long. What were they? The question came loaded, but had no clear answer, neither Carcosa or Cyrek daring to be the first to ask it. They weren’t just friends despite what they tried so desperately to make themselves and those around them believe. Just friends didn’t find themselves tangled between the sheets after a long day. They didn’t slip suggestive remarks into conversation or sneak heated touches when no one was looking, and just friends certainly didn’t fuck the way that they did. But there were many, many times where they didn’t appear to be just a casual fling either. Casual flings didn’t stay the night after the fun was over. They didn’t bare their souls to one another with such ease. Casual flings didn’t hold each other close or place tender kisses on the other’s forehead when they’d had a bad day. Casual flings didn’t care so goddamn much, and they certainly didn’t look at each other the same way Cyrek and Carcosa so often did. Whatever they were, it was messy and it was complicated and it was asking for trouble. That’s the only conclusion she had ever been able to come to without asking him outright. But she remained silent, her desire to know nowhere near as great as her fear of losing whatever this was within the blink of an eye. She knew his love life had been nothing short of a train wreck; from an abusive ex to a loveless marriage, even to falling in love with a boy that just didn’t love him the same. Her heart broke for him time and time again, the memory of deep purple bruises and a dark blue ring around his neck forever seared into her memory. Carcosa held him with such a delicate touch, the fear of hurting Cyrek just as others had done before her something she wrestled with every day. How much she cared for him could be overwhelming at times, Carcosa never sure of what the appropriate amount of compassion was to display in a situation like this. She didn’t know where to put it all down. And try as she might to stuff it all away in her heavy little box of emotions and things she just couldn’t stand to face, it always seemed to bleed through the cracks and seep through the bottom, spilling into even the most mundane of her actions. She didn’t want to scare Cyrek. Didn’t want him to feel pressured or as if their arrangement had to turn into something more. And perhaps Carcosa herself was a little fearful, if she were being honest. Fearful of the private little world they’d built together crashing and burning to the ground if either of them so much as even dared to to tackle the subject. Fearful of being the only one that felt the strong emotional connection, and looking like an absolute idiot when it all came tumbling down. So she kept it all to herself, refusing to touch the matter and hoping that if she for once in her life left well enough alone, then perhaps the mess they’d already made would remain somewhat manageable. “Yes!” The woman cheered when her retaliation made contact, pausing mid-run to giddily punch the air. “Now it looks like I’m the one kickin’ your ass!” She swiftly dodged his incoming attack, flipping him the bird with a laugh. Her eyes widened at the sight of the much taller man barreling at her, Carcosa squealing with delight as she broke into a run and dashed in the opposite direction. “Try all ya want, but you’re never catchin’ me!”

“Oh, please. As if you aren’t the smuggest of assholes.” She was beaming through the round of lighthearted trash talk, unable to mask her joy as his and her spirits seemed to be at least temporarily lifted. “And if I was? Don’t forget you’re not the only punk in Primm, Cy. I’d hate to see ya get all jealous.” Somewhere, deep in the pit of her subconscious, Carcosa knew from the start that crawling into bed with Cyrek was a bad idea. It was just supposed to be a one time deal: two former coworkers turned friends turned lovers for one night finding comfort in one another during some of the lowest point of their lives. Their first encounter spawned shortly after her father had been incarcerated, the trial taking a heavy toll on Carcosa and the news that Marty would be spending the next two and a half decades behind bars steadily tearing her in two. She’d shut most of the people around her out, too busy grieving the ambiguous loss of the one parent that ever gave even half of a shit about her while simultaneously wrestling with the knowledge that he’d willingly handed himself over to police. And she’d most certainly tried to shut Cyrek out too, curling in on herself, the safety of isolation bringing her a special sort of comfort that she didn’t think any living being could. But he persisted and he was safe. And he had a way of making her talk about the things that she never wanted to discuss, sometimes tricking her into spilling the beans before she even realized what was actually happening. But most importantly, he didn’t run. He didn’t flake at the first sign of trouble and decide that her crumbling life was far too much to handle, unlike so many others before him. He offered her a safe place to put all of the anger and fear and pain that had been brewing for months down, and in turn the two helped each other create a temporary escape from their less than desirable lives. Carcosa knew exactly what sort of mess awaited them the second she pressed her lips against his, and somewhere deep down she knew that it was never going to be a one time thing, as much as they would’ve liked to believe. But she couldn’t bring herself to call it quits the first time she felt his fingers running through her hair. Nor could she the second time, or the third, or the fourth, or any other time after that. Their little arrangement was far too comfortable for either of them to give up. All of those times that she rested her head against his bare chest, fingertips idly tracing the outlines of his tattoos, or the times where she awoke in the middle of the night to find his arms wrapped around her tiny frame helped ease the ache of what awaited them beyond a bedroom door. She found herself caring for Cyrek more than a casual hookup probably should, but couldn’t bring herself to hide it. His presence had helped make her life a little less miserable, and she only wanted to do the same for him. “More like ya couldn’t hear me over the sound of your head bein’ jammed so far up your own ass!” She shouted back, letting out a frustrated huff when her snowball missed. Hindsight would tell her that it was rather unwise to turn her back to Cyrek, the ice cold thud of a snowball crashing full speed into her rump making the small brunette yelp. “Cyrek!” She exclaimed, somewhere between a laugh and a yell. She whirled around to look at him, a fire in her eyes as she grabbed a second fistful of snow, now holding two rather large snowballs. “You’re gonna pay for that!” She rocketed the first, then the second in his direction before running for cover.