Chapter 14 #2
‘It’s one of my favourites,’ she tells me.
‘I’ve seen it a few times. We did our own production at school and I…
’ I’m smiling and nodding at her, but I can’t focus on what she’s saying.
Maybe it’s better if I hide in the toilet for the length of the interval?
I don’t even know how long intervals last these days.
Luc’s eyes land on the wall opposite us, and I turn around to see a line of people all smiling at me. I look for the ice cream seller.
Nowhere to be seen.
‘Are they–’
‘I think so.’
‘Luc–’
‘I know.’
I need to get out of this theatre. The walls are closing in. The aisle seat seemed easy enough for me to slip into, but it leaves me vulnerable. I want to grab Luc and run to find the car. To jump in and disappear into the night.
But I can’t leave halfway through the show.
The papers tomorrow would print how it must be terrible because Sienna Martin couldn’t stick it out.
Or they’d comment on how rude I am. Maybe I can pull a sickie and get someone to take me into the room we were in before, and then I can sneak out the stage door just before closing, before the crowds gather outside?
Get Jess to tell the papers I was taken ill?
It seems like the most sensible option. But how do I make this plan happen without Luc leaving my side?
Dennis, who is watching us from the wall where the queue is formed, makes a quick gesture with his head. Luc nods and takes my hand.
‘We’ll be back,’ he tells the queue of people, and then he takes me through the door that we came through. The member of staff guarding the door immediately lets us through.
Luc stands with his back against the door to make sure that no one follows us. Although I’m almost certain that Dennis is now on the other side.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Luc tells me.
‘No, I’m sorry.’ I gasp for breath. ‘It’s my– I chose this chaotic life. You didn’t.’ I catch sight of his hands and realise they are still holding mine, both enveloped in his while he leans his entire weight against the door.
He pulls me in. ‘I said yes for a reason, Sienna.’
I open my mouth to speak before realising I don’t know what to say.
‘You’re worth it. I would hide in a thousand cupboards, walk hundreds of red carpets and see millions of terrible photos of myself online if it meant spending time with you.’
‘Luc…’ I croak. I lift my head from his chest and look at him. He’s millimetres away from my face and I’m fairly certain this type of contact breaks every rule we made in that restaurant.
I’m trying to dig up all those reasons we wouldn’t work, but the only thing coming back to me is: What if we did?
What if the reason Luc has come back to me now is because I’m supposed to do it differently this time?
That Luc is my opportunity to live a little, to go out and do things which aren’t part of my job.
So that I can have fun again, pottery painting and doing things like this.
To give up control and be surprised a little.
I’m gazing at his lips, the small crack in the centre of his bottom lip slightly more pronounced.
I don’t stop myself like I did last night – I let my gaze linger.
Like his is on my lips. I hope that someone will and someone won’t interrupt us at the same time.
I know if he doesn’t pull away, neither will I.
There’s a flutter deep in my bones that I want to ignore, but it’s like I’ve been starving for years. Since the Richmond Park walk, hours before I ran from him and the relationship.
‘Sie,’ Luc rasps. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, and I think he’s going to pull away like he did on the sofa after I asked whether we’re friends. That he is going to break this trance between us. But then he opens his eyes again and, if anything, he’s closer.
His breath grazes my lips. The chattering noise from the auditorium falls away, replaced only by the thumping of hearts, of soft, sharp breaths. Luc sighs before he leans in, his nose brushing past mine. And then our lips collide.
His touch is tentative at first, like anything else is dependent on my reaction, my permission. I lean further into him, more pressure between us, and I feel him smile against my lips.
Luc pulls back and looks at me, his chocolate eyes darkening as the lights in the auditorium dim, breaking the light through the circular window at the top of the door. Neither of us move. Luc’s weight against the door keeps us there.
I lean in this time, my lips connecting with his, and he groans quietly, his body melting against the door.
The sound reignites a fire I thought was long lost inside of me, a heat pooling in the base of my stomach.
A soft opening, our lips part. The mere moments feel like a lifetime.
His hand lands on my neck, his thumb stroking my jaw.
The kiss deepens for a few seconds, not nearly long enough.
He pulls back, just far enough that he can speak.
‘Come on,’ he whispers as the noise from the stage starts filtering through the door and the actors are singing again.
‘And Sienna?’ Luc starts. I look at him, the shadows on his face carving out his cheekbones. ‘Don’t make me sleep downstairs tonight.’
The door is opening before I can reply, and we sneak back into our seats on the edge of the row.
I’m silently thankful the lights aren’t going to be on me, that my flushed cheeks won’t be pictured in the papers tomorrow.
As soon as I’m sat, Luc’s leg finds mine, maintaining a point of contact between us.
I’m surprised the conductor doesn’t ask me to come to the front so the beating of my heart can keep the actors in time with their music.
A human metronome. It seems to hover at the height of its beat swelling in my chest before retreating to its rightful position.
I briefly wonder what that would look like on a heart monitor, what my prognosis would be.
I feel kinda sorry for her, she was just trying to go on a date with her man
If stuff like this didn’t happen, she would literally be unemployed because no one would care about her music lol
It’s so refreshing seeing her do this stuff
Did anyone else notice how flushed she looked in that photo after the interval? When they came back in?