#x.sara

Life was as fickle and cruel as it was long. Sara had been so confident that their lives could change for the better. Together they could get over everything the world had ever thrown at them. If she and Jemma just had one another then the pain would go away from their problems that haunted their families. The pressure and the illness. If she had Jemma then she could be the best version of herself—the strong woman she was always meant to be. 

Sara had been working her ass off all day. Her boss had screamed at her twice for mistakes she hadn’t intended to make and in the same excessive vocalisation told her that she was too pretty to not go far in this profession. Becoming a lawyer was never going to be easy but at least she was a training paralegal at a rather successful Bostonian firm. Thanks to her father’s contacts of course. But at that moment she couldn’t have given less of a shit about her job or her future career. Heck, she couldn’t even give a shit about being seen by nosy neighbours. All she cared about was waiting to see Jemma’s car pull into that driveway. Oh, Jemma? Yes, didn’t you hear? I suppose you’ve been staying Downtown a lot. She’s engaged. Isn’t that...lovely? For her type I guess. Have you spoken to Gabriel yet? Sara hadn’t even let her mother’s words properly process before she’d been heading back to her car. And now it was late and cold and Sara shivered but the moment she saw the familiar vehicle pull into the drive, everything disappeared. “Jemma!” She shouted, climbing out and slamming the car door behind her. She stormed across the road without looking either way. It was clear she’d been crying but also clear she’d been ferociously trying not to. “Engaged? Are you fucking serious? Are you fucking kidding me? Please, tell me it’s wrong.” @unsctisfied

Sara had stayed late at the office, painstakingly reviewing several of the new files that had been sent through from the other site. Her father had been sending her multiple emails throughout the night as well, mostly questioning when she was going to bring a nice gentleman back to Boston. He knew about Sutton because Sara had told him but when it came to upholding values for his little girl she had to be perfect. And being anything except straight with a man he liked was not perfect. At first, it had bothered her and she’d become sour-faced at her desk but as time had passed she’d reminded herself that she had become independent because they had driven her away. Not the other way around. Well, independent to an extent. “I didn’t realise you’d be so eager.” Sara teased softly as she hooked Sutton’s coat onto the stand by the door. “It’s a good job I’m completely ready to go.” She added as she moved through the open space toward the marble coated kitchen, tugging her silk robe around her otherwise bare body as she went. Without even asking the older woman she poured a mug of coffee from the machine that heated up at the same time every morning and placed it in front of Sutton. “Good mornin’ baby.” She breathed as she rubbed the blonde’s shoulders before leaning in and kissing her softly. “You know where the milk is. Put your phone on the table.” She instructed, her mouth lingering over Sutton’s. She met her eyes almost daringly before pulling back and beaming. “How does eggs sound? Scrambled, fried, poached. However, you want me. Or the eggs.” @nebulaofmuses

Comfortable chaos was the only way she could try and describe the tangle of her emotions at that moment as she stuffed her hands deep into the pockets of her heavy coat. The Boston chill beat relentlessly against them as they moved down the narrow street but the snow had slowed to a steady flurry that twisted and turned beneath the streetlamps with an intricate simplicity. Snow crunched underfoot, masking the silence that settled between them as they walked away from the home of the woman Jemma had been supposed to marry. The truth and nothing except the truth had been laid out for her. But honesty was brutal, especially when it came to love. And lies. And unmalicious deceit. Sara knew that. She could remember the moment she’d looked him in the eye and spilt what was left of her aching heart. And as he had embraced her words and reached for her hand, she’d seen the man she could have fallen in love with if her heart hasn’t belonged to someone else since that Summer. Because Gabriel, for all it was worth, was just like Sara. Except, he could go through with it and actually get to the end. No tears had been spilled between them as they had parted ways, both knowing that their stories were similar. She’d fucked people and so had he. It was only when they were finally apart that she could look at the situation from afar and maybe, she’d thought, she had never had any control over the game at all. Maybe he wasn’t like her. Maybe he wasn’t like her because he would never pull himself away from it. As they continued to walk, Sara pulled her fluffy hood tighter around her face. With her free hand, she reached for Jemma’s fingers but maintained their silence. It wasn’t until they were a few blocks from Jemma’s place that she stepped off the path and pushed open the partially frozen gate of a deserted playpark. The snow lay thicker here and Sara’s boots crunched loudly as she moved toward the swing set. Initially, the seat was cold against the fabric of her thick leggings but she soon adjusted and gripped lightly at the chains, kicking her feet forward. The chain squeaked quietly and a tiny icicle fell from the frame. “Are you okay?” She asked softly, keeping her voice low in the serene snow-laden landscape. Her feet scuffed as she swung a little more, rocking on her toes each time she came back toward the floor. “Are you uh....you think you did the right thing don’t you?” @unsctisfied

The only thing classier than a high school party was a high school house party in the richest area of Boston. New England charm flowed from every bottle, mixing so easily with liquors and spirits. Music thrummed through the huge house and each room had an occupant. Some people had trailed out to the garden to smoke weed or sample something harder but Sara had remained inside, dancing beneath the shimmering chandelier. There were strobe lights all over the room and every now and then the light would refract off of her ring. The very expensive ring that Gabriel had got for her. The same Gabriel that was discussing their futures at Ivy Leagues colleges everyday. The same Gabriel that had his body behind hers and his semi-hard dick pressed against her firm ass. She couldn’t blame him either. She looked fucking fierce in her tight dress with her make-up on point. A light sheen of sweat spread across her chest and Gabriel’s large hands gripped more at her hips. She wondered if he had even noticed she wasn’t wearing underwear. He hadn’t really noticed when she hadn’t come last night despite the fact he’d been so sure she had. Maybe Jemma had tired her out too much. The same Jemma that Sara knew was here. Some of her crowd was involved, probably stoned as fuck in the garden. But Sara just danced on, feeling Gabriel’s hands cover more of her body but she wasn’t thinking about him. How could she? @unsctisfied

Sara tried to tell herself that she couldn’t feel a thing but the reality was that the weight of the words still ricocheting around her skull were making it hard to even drag one foot in front of the other. Even the streets she’d walked since she was just a little girl seemed to howl words of disgust as the frigid wind ripped through the tall oaks lining the avenue. Once a spindly and bare limb stung her cheek as the gust careered it toward her. But nothing could have stung anymore than her father’s words. It was as if every syllable had been choked down through a throat full of vomit. And her mother. Not once had she stepped up to defend her. She’d seen the shame in her eyes. She hadn’t been willing to protect their own child. Because what was a child to them anyway if it wasn’t the perfect daughter they’d spent so many years creating. Crafting. Pruning. Moulding. The cold chill burnt her cheeks again as she let out a stubborn sob followed by a flurry of tears. Her father had looked so pleased when he’d renounced her. He’d even shown her the door like she was some fucking guest leaving one of their pompous parties. And when the door had swung closed, the door of the home she’d grown up in, a piece of her had been shut inside with it. A piece that probably wouldn’t be forwarded to her downtown apartment at her father’s kind expense. By the time she came to a stop in front of Jemma’s home, her knees were wobbling and she felt faint. All of her energy had gone into trying to fight a war her father had already considered won. All because Sara couldn’t live the lie anymore. Because she couldn’t love Gabriel. Because she loved Jemma. A woman her parents had known since she was a child too. A person whose parents they laughed with and shared memories with. She raised a heavy hand and knocked, hoping that whoever opened wouldn’t be alarmed by the state of her blotchy make-up ruined face. The eyes of a lost child whose parents had betrayed her. What was love when reputation preceded it? What was a family that put all else before happiness? This is not the woman you should be, Sara. This is not the person we love or want. Like she had a receipt they could take back to the store because she had malfunctioned. When the door swung open, Sara couldn’t hold back the scrunching of her face and trembling of her tiny frame as sadness wrecked her again. “I t-told them. About us. They cut me off.” She forced through the stuttering as her throat tightened. “My father told me he doesn’t love the person I am.” She sniffed hard and looked at Jemma with big sad eyes. “I like who I am. I like you as part of who I am.” @unsctisfied

❛ Eventually you grow up, one day you open your eyes and the fairy tale disappears. ❜ jemma x sara