an undertow.

When: March 1, 2023 Where: Opening of the Palazzo Who: Open 

Azra wasn’t sure about attending the opening of the Palazzo. Clubs really weren’t her scene, but it was who was behind the real operations of it, that she had to attend. 

She had to make an appearance to show support for those that took care of her. They were good to her. 

The brunette picked out a nice dress to wear, putting on a little bit of make-up and letting her hair fall in its natural waves. She wandered around with a drink in her hand not quite sure what to do. Her eyes spot an empty seat. She waves through the crowd and stops at the table. “Is this chair taken?” Her heels were starting to bother her. She should have done a few inches shorter. 

. 

Lonnie sat at a table, trying to pass the time. He hated having to schmooze- it was his least favorite part of his job. He just needed a little break from it all. He looked up at the sound of someone approaching and shook his head as she spoke, “No. Go ahead. Not waitin’ on anyone.” Plus, he was sure he was going to need to get up and socialize shortly, “Just takin’ a break from it all or whatever.” 

–

The elation she feels at hearing thpse words is quickly chased by shame, but she swallows it down. Ludo’s mind is a blur, but she feels too good to let in any of the bad. “You and me,” she repeats. Being happy is something she needs to learn that she’s allowed to do, and being loved is something she desperately craves. It’s easy to blur one desire with the other, especially in the safety of Lonnie’s ready and willing arms.

“Tell your groupies they can meet me right outside the ring,” she laughs, encircling both her arms and legs around him in embrace as she kisses him. “I’m strong— ” Ludo breaks away just enough to flex a bicep, toned from years on the pole, “I can beat a bitch if I have to.” 

Even when her laughs begin to morph into something more of periodic hums of pleasure between kisses, the grin on Ludo’s face doesn’t waver. Each time she presses her lips to his, she’s smiling against them. It’s a giddiness she hasn’t felt since she was a teenager. 

“You’re sure about this, right?” Her legs remain locked around Lonnie’s waist when she leans back, palms resting on the cold countertop. There’s a rare shyness in the way she seeks his gaze. “You’re sure you want this?”

. 

“I trust that ya can.” Lonnie chuckles quietly, lifting a hand to cup her cheek, thumb tracing her bottom lip. It’s foreign for him to feel this happy, but being with Ludo has always had a unique affect on him. Now, even more so, it seems, “You’d probably even beat me in a fight.” But he’d also let her win, to be fair. 

He watches her face, quickly assuring her with a nod- that’s easy for him to do. Some of the other stuff they face may be hard, but this? Words of affirmation he can do with ease- even being soft-spoken, “I’m positive, Lu. I want you. You’re important to me.” He tells her, “And I’m fuckin’ crazy about you.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead, “I’ve known I’ve wanted this for a long, long time, alright? Trust me.” 

–

I just know how I feel. Therein lies Ludo’s internal struggle. She’s incapable of feeling without thinking about it— try as she might, she can’t help but obsess and dissect why she feels what she feels. She needs to find a root cause, some sort of confirmation that what she’s experiencing isn’t foolish or misplaced. It’s what leads her to one hollow escape after another, searching for easy highs and lows with even simpler explanations. It’s preferable to stay in a miserable situation, so long as she knows why she’s miserable; it’s risking these blindsighted emotions that paralyze her. The real ones. The ones that come and go beyond her control.

Seized by intense emotion of that very sort, Ludovica clings to Lonnie when she’d normally push him away. This time, she doesn’t have the strength to fight against it all. The urge to be loved and adored, to trust someone— she’s been repressing it all, and Lonnie’s hold is so tender that she can’t help but finally break down at his touch.

“Lonnie,” she whispers his name again, feeling his kiss weigh heavy on her lips despite it’s tenderness. Anchoring her arms around his shoulders, Ludo pushes up onto her tip-toes to press her forehead against his. “Okay.” The simple agreement is laced with a nervous excitement that feels foreign to her— a strange mix of panic and giddiness. A wide grin lifts her teary eyes and she kisses him again with more intensity, a shaky giggle spilling out against his lips. “Okay. Let’s go for it.”

.

Her response almost knock the breath out of him. It’s simple and real and he’s just a little surprised that she’s agreed. After so long, it’s happening. They’re happening. Lonnie blinks and kisses her back, lifting her onto the counter with ease. He’s not sure exactly how to identify how he’s feeling. He’s overwhelmed and excited and a little bit terrified. He pulls away with a lopsided smile, letting out a breath, “Good. Then we’re goin’ for it. You and me, Ludo.” It’s a promise and a hope all in one.

—

“Indeed.”

As though she would ever play around, come these things. “But you’re one of those, already born with powers. No need to come up with them.”

Anaïs takes a seat upon one of those sticky locker-room benches, but never settles her back against the sharp shelves. She’d be damned. “If the game had taken a losing turn,” she laughs, “I would have drank all the champagne before it even got to you.” One has to cope, somehow.

And somehow, it’s not a no — yet certainly not a yes. “We can’t all be Antonela Roccuzzo. Unless we can.”

. 

“So like Batman? I think I could nail the brooding part of that.” Lonnie jokes. He watches her settle on the benches, an amused look overtaking his face. Anaïs looks so out of place among the sweaty, dim room and it makes him appreciate her and their friendship even more. He chuckles then, nodding, “Mmm, that’s fair. A fair reaction to me fuckin’ up.” 

He sets his wraps aside, massaging his palm, “I’m no Messi, that’s for sure. My win rate is only slightly lower, I think. Though, soccer and boxing... apples and oranges, really.” Then he sighs, grinning, “How long is it socially acceptable to stay at my victory party before leavin’ and going to bed?” 

–

Ludo blinks in surprise, once again taken aback by the way he shuts her down so swiftly. It feels as though she’s been backed into a corner, and her weapon was just knocked out of her hands. Naturally, she hooks onto the first chance she gets to twist his words around: “I ‘spew a lot of lies’ ? What the fuck does that mean?” It’s clear her heart isn’t in the rebuttal; normally sharp and taunting, her eyes are wide and abashed. In a stark contrast, her next response spills out straight from her gut, no calculation. “Of course I care about you, Lonnie! Of course I care. Why do you think I’m here right now?”

Silenced by the harsh truth of his accusation, Ludo drops her gaze to the floor. It’s only when she feels his touch that she looks up at him again. The air between them grows heavier with each second that passes; every move is laced with hesitation, a foreign feeling when everything between the two of them usually comes so naturally. 

“I don’t want to go,” she finally admits, no louder than a whisper, timid yet pained. “I don’t want to be without you.” She twists her hand in Lonnie’s grasp to lace her fingers through his, glancing down at their conjoined hands before meeting his eyes again. “You’re right. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know if…” Squeezing his hand gives her the strength to continue. “I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’m any good for you. I— I’m scared,” she repeats. Her eyes are pleading for an answer that neither of them can confirm. Tentatively, Ludo reaches up to place her palms on either side of his face. “I don’t want to lose you again.” 

. 

He waits, stopping himself from saying anything further just yet. The ball is in her court. All he can do now is hope that she doesn’t run away from this or push him away any further. Lonnie swallows hard, nodding at her as she finally confirms that no, she doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t speak again yet, just listening. And he doesn’t disagree with so much of what she’s saying. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for this either, but he knows what he wants. He’s staring right at exactly what he wants, “Then stay.” Lonnie mumbles, pulling Ludo closer to him again, “Stay. I don’t know either, alright?” He’s scared too. He doesn’t want to fuck it up or push her away, “I just know how I feel.” 

He sets his hands on her sides, casting a soft gaze down in her direction, “I don’t wanna lose you either. I can’t lose you again.” Especially not now when this time around feels so different, when there’s no other person standing between them. 

“Be with me.” Lonnie murmurs, thumbs running back and forth against her sides, “Ludo... let’s be together, okay? I know there’s a lot to figure out and... I dunno if it’s gonna be good or if we’re good for each other... but I wanna be with you.” He leans down and presses his mouth to hers in a tender kiss, “Let’s just fuckin’ go for it... Yeah? Can we do that?” Ludo’s unpredictable. He knows that. But he feels like he knows her too and he love her, that’s a certainty. 

an annoyed grunt escapes him, suddenly coming to a halt. “ lon– ” he holds out his hand, stopping lonnie along the way too, then shows his new iphone. the flash is turned on and tommy cannot for the life of him figure out why it keeps doing that. “ the fuck is up with this. you know how to fix it? ” for most of his life, he has used a 2g phone, not particularly seeing the need for a smart phone. eventually iphones were used for work purposes but it was only recently that he switched from an iphone 6 to the latest one. he hates it. 

@lonlewis​

. 

–

A wave of shock flashes across Ludo’s features when he drops her hand, followed by something akin to disbelief. Instinctively she reaches to recapture his grasp, but comes up empty. This is perhaps the first time Lonnie has ever refused her touch. The realization of just how much of a shield their excessive affections have been is painfully hard to ignore now; the physical space between them is shocking and definitive, shining a spotlight on the feelings that they’ve spent years attempting to shut out.

Guilt turns her stomach. The ache blooms across her ribcage and seeps into her bones with an intensity she’s never felt before. Hot and burning— shame. “Lonnie,” she pleads, rendered defenseless with the absence of his hand in hers. Without realizing it, Ludo starts to shake her head in protest. Selfishly, she doesn’t want to hear it— how she’s hurt him, or even worse, how he’s okay with letting it continue.  

Trust me, I’ve tried to not feel this way about you. “Stop it,” her warning clips the end of Lonnie’s words. Her immediate instinct is to roll her eyes, but instead she closes them, feeling tears brimming against her lower lashes. Lonnie doesn’t stop, and the longer he continues, the more upset she gets. “Feel what way? What do you mean, Lonnie? It’s sex. It’s just sex. You don’t know what you’re feeling.” Ludo struggles to meet his gaze again, a pang of desperation striking her. “I have to go. And you have to let me. You don’t want this.”

. 

“That’s bullshit.” Lonnie replies immediately to her claim of ‘just sex’. He swallows hard- pushing down the lump in his throat, “That’s complete bullshit, Ludo, and you know it.” He feels frustrated and angry and sad all at once at her attempts to push him away. To make it like there’s nothing between them. But Lonnie is determined not to let her. He’s stood by too many times and just let things between them just happen to him. He isn’t going to stand by now, “I dunno what I can say to change your mind, but I know you have feelings for me. You might spew a lotta lies- like right now- but I know what’s between us isn’t one, okay? I know you better than ya want me to. I know that scares you. So... fuck... say whatever ya want, but I know you care about me.” His mind immediately goes back to the night Ava stabbed him, the way Ludovica took care of him and made sure he was alright. Or the first time they came back together after her breakup, the immediate closeness that they couldn’t shut off. There might be plenty he doesn’t know about Ludo, but he knows enough to know when she’s being evasive, when she’s trying to fuck something up. And he knows she feels something for him, he’s sure of it. 

“So don’t tell me what I want. Not when you’re not even tellin’ the truth about what you want!” He shakes his head, “Because why are you here right now if you don’t want whatever this is? If you don’t wanna be here, then go. I know you’re not the type of person who likes to stay places you don’t wanna be.” He takes a step closer to her, grabbing her arm, thumb running along her wrist gently, “Go. If this is just sex, then leave. Right now. I’m not forcin’ ya.” Lonnie gazes down at her. He hates seeing her upset, especially in relation to him, but he doesn’t just want to fold and fold her into his arms. He waits, just looking at her. 

—

Lonnie’s response tells her more of her perspective, than it does his own. Her question didn’t derive off of concern, but entirely of pride. How do you feel, meaning his victory and fame, not any of the bruises. Perhaps then, she should have acted more concerned — but Anaïs is far too used to blood and far too confident in him, to see any of the red as the negativity others insist on. 

She laughs, “I know. As we used to say to kids in the ER,” — back to residency days — “you’re a real trooper. I might have sneaked Spider-Man band-aids into my purse just for this occasion.” Not the most peculiar thing her Birkin carried. The doors close behind them with shouts drowned by a different type of chatter, and only those in their circle remain. “I do. My favorite, and your favorite. And everyone else’s favorite.” 

. 

Lonnie laughs with her, lifting his eyebrows, “Oh yeah? Is that your way of callin’ me a superhero? I’ll take it.” The thought of Anaïs carrying around Spider-Man band-aids is incredibly amusing to him. Spider-Man and champagne- the afterparty of champions. 

“What if I had lost, hm?” In the unlikely event, “Would I still get the champagne shower?” He starts to unwrap his hands, crooked smile on his face as he regards his friend, “Just gotta know in case I ever lose my touch.” He teases. 

–

“No,” she’s quick to answer, reassuring him that she isn’t scared of him— though is it entirely true? “No, I know you wouldn’t…” her eyes flicker up to his, and there is a hint of doubt there. It’s nothing to do with Lonnie specifically, when it comes down to it, but rather Ludovica’s own unresolved traumas that she’s left to fester. Years of abuse buried beneath layers of cocaine and expensive wine, sex, crime— all it’s done has made her more paranoid, more unstable, more afraid; almost undoubtedly likely to hurt anyone else she attaches herself to. 

There’s the fear of losing Lonnie, of hurting them both. Then her more selfish fears: of being left alone with herself, of losing the source of warmth and comfort and lightheartedness that she so desperately desires, and that Lonnie so willingly provides. Last on her list of concerns, but certainly still there, is something Ludo fears she’ll never fully be able to shake. That he will hurt her— physically or otherwise. That she’ll become nothing more to him than a tool or a piece to show off, just as she’s always been used by those she’s dared to love. How could she even begin to explain all of that to him? 

“It’s just…” To her dismay, she feels her throat tighten. Her grip on his hand does the same. “You don’t know me like you think you do. There’s a lot that I haven't— I don’t know if I can— I can’t do this.” She trips over her words, pausing to take a deep breath. As she goes on, she squeezes his hand. “We can’t keep seeing each other like this. We can’t. It’s not healthy. I’m not…” Again she trails off, eyes ardently searching his. 

Usually loud, bold, and clear as a bell, Ludo’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet when she speaks again. “I’m scared of everything, Lonnie.” Chestnut eyes drop to the floor, unable to meet his gaze with the admission. “And that’s not fair to you.”

. 

With her ‘no’ comes relief, but it’s quickly followed by concern once again. Because Ludo’s still talking and what she’s saying now is less than reassuring. Lonnie’s eyes stay on her, tracking her every twitch and slight change in expression. It’s not healthy. Of this he’s well-aware. There’s always been a back and forth, an uneven distribution in who holds the power in their relationship- or situationship or whatever it is they’ve had going on. And if this was anyone besides Ludovica? Lonnie probably would’ve gotten out of it ages ago. But it’s her. And it’s them. And he knows he’ll never be able to get her out of his system, he doesn’t want to. Because outside of the game they always seem to be caught in, there’s genuine feeling. There’s a deep, deep care and a magnetic pull. 

Lonnie sighs, shaking his head, “So that’s it then? You came here to end it? Nah. Fuck, Ludo...” He pauses, swallowing hard and looking away for just a moment before his gaze is pulled back to hers, “I dunno why we’re talkin’ about fair, because a lotta this shit hasn’t ever been fair.” He doesn’t get into specifics of what- he knows she knows, “Shit, this isn’t fair.” He takes a step back, pulling his hand away and setting both of his on the counter, “You don’t think I’m scared too?” Not of Ludo hurting him so much, though he’s a little afraid of that too- but he’s been there before, he thinks he’s willing to do it again if it means she’s around. Mostly, he’s afraid of Ludo getting hurt too. Because of his lifestyle or because of her past. He’s afraid of being unable to protect her from pain, most of all, “There is so much fucked up shit... in my life, in yours, Jesus, in the goddamn world...” 

He stops for a beat, shrugging, “But that doesn’t change how I feel about you. Trust me, I’ve tried to not feel this way about you.” It’s hopeless, always has been, “So, yeah, I’m scared, but I’m not afraid of you or whatever it is you’re scared to tell me. I’m scared I’m never gonna feel like this about someone again. Which is fucked up. But I’m alright with bein’ fucked up with you and I’m alright with helping you deal with everything you’re scared of if you let me. Just don’t go, okay? This doesn’t have to be-” He pauses, trying to find the right words, “I dunno. I just don’t want ya to go.” 

.

     Usually, Ava made a point to never cross her victims again and this might turn into a perfect exaample of why she had such a rule. He was bigger and more muscular and could definitely overpower her if he wanted to, and she was more than slightly tipsy and without a sharp object at the ready. Regardless, she offered him a proud grin. “You can’t ask a woman about her age,” she reminded him, trying ( and failing ) once more to catch the barkeep’s attention. 

     “Thirty. I know, I don’t look a day over twenty-one.” Luckily, she did. Ava looked at his shoulder and hummed. “It’s already healed, don’t be dramatic.” He wasn’t, but she digressed. “So, where’s my birthday drink?”

. 

“I was gonna say at least thirty-one.” He joked, trying to catch the eye of the busy bartender with no success on his end either, “Welcome to the Thirty Club. More back aches and failed relationships on this side of the divide.” He rolled his eyes then, snorting, “There’s a scar, but women are supposed to like those, right?” 

Lonnie clicked his tongue then, “If I could get the bartender’s attention at all? Maybe I’d consider it. Though, it seems like luck isn’t on my side- or yours. What are ya, a tequila girl? Maybe vodka?” 

@lonlewis​

After a winning match, Anaïs waits by the sidelines along with Lonnie’s team. Hugs him, even through the kind of body-heat and sweat that would ruin silk forever. “My champion!” 

Beyond sweat, there’s blood. She pulls back, catching his face under the light. While a ready-doctor attempts to step in, she motions him off and says, “It’s fine.” Now, the focus is back on Lonnie. “There’s champagne backstage and a party uptown.” All organized by her, just for him. As they stroll arm-in-arm down the human corridor of camera flashes and timed chants of his name, Anaïs looks up and asks, “How do you feel?” 

. 

It’s all so familiar. The applause, the pounding in his head, all the people around him- as usual, he’s thankful for Anaïs and her presence. It’s grounding among the commotion. Even if he’s used to it, it’s a lot. He grins at her, mouthguard pulled out and the blood ignored- he doesn’t really feel it, too high off the adrenaline rush. Entering the corridor is his least favorite part, he just nods and gives small smiles to the spectators, grabbing a few hands and giving a few high-fives, Anaïs pulling his focus, “I’m good. I’ve had way worse.” He tells her, “Plus, somethin’ tells me ya got me enough champagne to make sure I don’t feel a damn thing until the weekend’s over.” The door out and away from the crowd is just in front of them and he holds back the sigh of relief. 

–

A flood of relief fills her when he returns her touch, though it’s quickly followed by a cold tingle of dread. The same part of her that wished for him to wordlessly forgive her, also wished for him to curse her out and say he didn’t want to hear an explanation— either would have been the easy way out. Instead, she’s left with a third, worse option: open acceptance.

“I don’t know, Lonnie,” she starts feebly, tightening her grip on his fingers. “I texted Hans that night that I was with you, and I told him I was scared.” She pauses here. With Ludo’s dating history in mind, Hans had presumably taken her cry for help in the most literal way that night. “We were both drunk, obviously, and… he took it the wrong way.” In reality, her fear came from the uncertainty of her situation with Lonnie; whether she was infatuated with him or simply the idea of them together, she’d somehow found herself with all of her eggs in his basket. Admitting that to him seems impossible— or perhaps wrong. 

. 

Lonnie listens, keeping his eyes trained on her. Even when she pauses, he waits for her to finish, waits for the whole answer. The reasoning is less vague than he expected, truthfully, not that there was ever really a question of whether or not he’d forgive her- anything short of murdering his best friend and Lonnie would probably forgive Ludo. 

He nods once, sighing, “I mean, yeah, I knew you were.. drunk and all that. I figured that was probably part of it.” Plus, he’s never been Hans’ biggest fan, personally, “But... scared of what? Me?” He doesn’t think so, but he wants to make sure. He knows Ludo’s history, he doesn’t want to be yet another threatening man in her life. Lonnie would never forgive himself if that was the case, “Because I would never lay a hand on you outta anger or anythin’... I hope you know that.” 

–

It’s uncomfortable to be so far from him, especially in the physical sense. His rejection, no matter how slight, puts an ache in her stomach. Ludo naturally follows close behind him like a magnet. It would be so easy to press herself up against him as she normally would, to give him that wide-eyed stare and insist they talk about it later. They would melt into each other, as they always do, and all would be swept under the rug. Selfishly, part of her had hoped that she wouldn’t have to say anything at all— that he would say it was nothing just for the sake of keeping her there. But that’s part of their problem. 

“No.” Ludo leans against the counter opposite him, eyes on the space between their feet. “Thank you,” she adds, realizing her short response may have sounded rude. “I— well,” faltering, she finds herself taken aback by the weakness in her own tone. The hint of nervousness. For once she doesn’t feel she has the upper hand. Unable to help herself, she steps forward and reaches to grab his hand in hers. “I don’t even know where to start.”

. 

Lonnie lets her take his hand, fingers wrapping around hers- half out of habit, half because he wants her touch. He longs to just pull her closer, against his chest, pretend nothing’s happened, but he knows that won’t serve either of them now. He’s let too many things go. He can’t this time. He holds back a smart comment about Ludo letting him touch her despite Hans claiming she’s afraid of him, threatened by what Lonnie’s capable of if she leaves or does something he doesn’t like, “Well... I figure I’ll let you say what ya gotta say first...” He pauses, face searching hers, trying to read what she’s feeling. Lonnie hates how much he wants to make her feel better, even when he’s this angry and upset, “Maybe just start with a goddamn explanation... I dunno... shit, Ludo...” He shakes his head, inhaling deeply.