Thirty-Five Vanessa
"Nessa? Are you ready to leave?" she asked, striding into the living room, having finished her makeup.
"Yes, darling.” I looked her up and down in admiration. “You look so beautiful."
She glowed, showing no signs of nervousness or hesitation about re-meeting my sister, holding herself unapologetically high.
"That’s more of a compliment to yourself, considering you selected the outfit and did my hair."
"Irrelevant.” I held out my hand, which she took, lacing her fingers through mine “Now twirl for me."
“Yes, Mistress,” she obliged, having taken to occasionally addressing me as such when we were alone.
I lifted up our interlocked hands, and she spun around me with a prideful grin, grabbing onto my shoulders after a few seconds as her balance faltered.
I chuckled, steadying her by her waist and leaning in to kiss her cheek. "So well trained," I whispered, using my thumb to rub away the red lipstick mark I’d left on her delicate face.
"Let’s go," I murmured after leaving my scarlet mark on her lips instead.
The door was opened by a tall brunette whose steely dark eyes would surely intimidate anyone but me.
"Vanessa—Elizabeth's sister, right?" She held out her hand, which I took, her handshake nearly as firm as mine.
"A pleasure. Carmilla, I presume?" I greeted, glancing into my sister's home and wondering why she couldn’t play hostess properly.
"Yes. Elizabeth should be inside, most likely harassing my Doberman."
That sounded entirely consistent with Elizabeth.
Stepping inside, I immediately found her in the middle of the living room with both hands cupping the dog's enormous head as she enthusiastically kissed the top of it, nuzzling it as if a harmless puppy.
Evelyn, who usually loved animals, took a step back as it let out a low, vicious growl of disapproval. I paid the dog no mind, instinctively wrapping an arm around Evelyn's waist and clearing my throat to get Elizabeth's attention.
"Oh my God, Nessie!" she exclaimed, abandoning the poor dog like an old toy and rushing over to us.
"Elizabeth, this is my girlfriend, Evelyn. Evelyn, Elizabeth."
She beamed at Evelyn, pulling her into a tight hug. Evelyn hugged her back, already appearing comfortable in her presence.
"I've met you before—you were at the party," Elizabeth recalled, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.
"Wait…you said you’re the head of technological marketing," she twirled her hair, connecting the dots.
I knew that expression. She was about to become insufferable.
"I wouldn’t have expected this from you, Nessie, with how conservative and judgmental you are."
My jaw clenched at her need to state the obvious. "Elizabeth, that’s quite enough. Go back to caressing the dog if you’re going to be so uncivil."
"Wow, you’re full of surprises today," Elizabeth laughed, prompting Evelyn to giggle as well.
I shot Evelyn a look for laughing, deeming beastiality jokes beneath us.
She caught the look immediately, unsuccessfully trying to suppress another smile.
Despite myself, I found the sight oddly endearing. Perhaps introducing them had not been nearly as reckless an idea as I'd feared.
"Well, I’m glad Nessie found someone to put up with her prudishness. And you both must meet Crushy." She gestured toward the monstrous dog.
"Crushy? You named that thing Crushy?" Evelyn laughed again, looking up at me with wide, amused eyes, only laughing harder at my predictably pursed lips.
"It’s a nickname I gave him. Carmilla named him Crusher, but that didn’t do the cutie justice. He’s so well trained—a vicious guard dog—but Carmilla made sure he won’t hurt me."
Cute was certainly one word for him.
The dog looked capable of dismantling a grown man without elevating his pulse.
She knelt to nuzzle him again.
A sharp bark echoed through the room.
Evelyn startled, instinctively stepping into my side before immediately catching herself.
I rested a reassuring hand against the small of her back.
Crusher, satisfied he'd made his opinion known, settled again.
"Oh, I nearly forgot—thank you for making me that dress. It was a lifesaver," Evelyn said, quickly collecting herself.
"It was nothing.” Elizabeth waved the compliment away. “Vanessa refused to send me a photo of you in it, but I’m sure it looked gorgeous on you."
Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at me, before turning back to Evelyn.
"What would you both like to drink?"
"Cabernet Sauvignon. If not, something with Pinot Noir will suffice."
"Just sparkling water, please," Evelyn replied, honoring the rule we’d agreed upon.
Christmas Eve had made it abundantly clear that alcohol did not agree with her.
She became emotional, and far more willing to argue than usual.
When she fell asleep on the couch two minutes into a fight, I simply carried her to bed, choosing to ignore the final thing she murmured. I wanted to hear it when she was sober.
While I felt the same sentiments stirring within me, it wasn’t the right time—not when she needed clarity more than anything.
At this stage in her life, loving her might mean letting her go.
If the best opportunity she received was at the farthest university from Seattle, I wouldn’t allow my feelings to be the reason she stayed.
Alcohol didn’t suit her—but her growing confidence certainly did.
After profusely apologizing the next morning, we mutually agreed to make alcohol consumption a limit.
She believed enforcing it would help remove temptation.
To make it fair, she would always be allowed a sip or two of my drinks instead—one of our small traditions I cherished.
The evening itself hadn't been overshadowed by any of it.
If anything, Christmas had only confirmed what I'd already suspected.
Somewhere between our first awkward conversations, buying her croissants, evenings spent cooking together, and the countless moments that existed without us needing to make space for them, my feelings had become impossible to dismiss.
Just as the choker symbolized her trust in me. Her willingness to place herself in my care. I wanted to entrust her with something of mine, something equally significant.
So I'd had another key cut.
When I placed it inside a small velvet box and handed it to her, it wasn't merely a copy of my house key. It was an invitation to be a part of my home.
Now she carried two keys.
And my heart.