Hera being gay part 2783739
Long after their conversation with Leon, the issues with Daiane, and obviously being admired for their gothic chic gown, Hera’s car pulled up at the after party. Street lights gleamed a muted orange over the dark, but modern mansion, and H’s shiny, old school cadillac. The car, and home so dark, but still visible through the fog, thanks to the tall structures spread across the street. You could hear the people from outside too. Busy, bustling, overjoyed to know that they were breaking rules, staying up late, and being who they were meant to be.
Since the two of them had shown up at the prom together, Hera and Daiane also had to drive to the after party, Embry’s full car of friends not leaving enough room for the girl to get a ride. It seemed like a foolproof plan for Dai to make. Sloppily finish her conversation with Embry, find Hera as necessary, and then spare a bit of time to speak to the poor fool who needed to explain themself yet again. It was only enough for the deception to leave a mark on her skin, but it would fade. In time. Time she would spend running far away from the problems the once believed she could solve, and closer to an answer Ane could not fathom at the start. Hera supposed they would have to make the most of it.
“Hey, it’s a bit hotter than you usually like in here. If you want we can go over to the poolside, it’s right next to an AC.” They remembered from the last party they’d attended here, one that Ane probably didn’t know about. She seemed to contemplate it for a little bit, wondering if she could trust them. With good reason, of course. Fortunately for Hera, she eventually gave in, because it was still them after all. The two of them walked out to the house, walking up into the long driveway and eventually getting through the crowd in order to reach their destination.
It was cool, like they said, and the water reflected the glimmer of the yellow lights within it, bright enough for both of them to still see very clearly. “Oh, I should probably take this off now.” They realized that they’d been wearing the detachable tier of their dress all night! Probably because they didn’t do as much dancing as they’d have liked. Either way, Hera slipped off the skirt and hung it behind a grill set in the patio, where it was most likely safe from other drunken teenagers, and headed back. At this point Ane could see their little shorts she had decided to wear under the sheerness of it all. Kind of like spandex, but a more practical cloth. Now that they both thought about it, the top half of the ensemble looked a lot like the shirt she had worn the night they first kissed. See-through, dark, and with a cute little black bra under it.
She sat down and felt the gentle breeze of night against her now exposed legs. Comforting, but not enough for her to forget the fact she still had to explain everything to Ane. “Okay, so. There were lots of reasons for the end of me and my ex’s relationship. One of them being that I was disloyal, but the root of it was because the relationship was abusive. I don’t really want to get into it that much, just because it’s still pretty fresh but if that helps clear anything up. There’s one other thing, but it’s probably not that important…” Hera reasoned with themself. Daiane was clearly not showing signs of loving them in return, so there was no point, right?
A part of them hoped it could be that simple. Because Ane moved with such grace. Her upset feelings towards Hera were not angry, nor irrational. She was sincere, and kept her voice low. Quiet enough for them to hear the shatter of her heart at each of their mistakes. The way her eyes filled with tightly held tears, they felt cruel just looking at them. Because when Hera gazed into those dark brown eyes, the only words her brain could manifest wondered when they would ever be enough for her. Holding onto the thought was torture. Torture because of love.
— Sirens began to wail in the distance, surely a noise complaint. —
That was the thing though. Joy can only last for so long before someone points out something wrong about it. You’d think hearing the rarity of someone else’s laughter would be music to your ears, but to some, it’s just noise that does not belong. You grow up in a quiet house! Your mother only loud to call you to do chores, your father only ever opening his mouth to demand a favor, and your siblings only talking to pick a fight. So when you get older, and you live in your own quiet home, any moonlit melody hummed by an angels voice is actually a berating shout. Because what else could it be? You’ve never heard that tune before, so when the birds sing in the morning, you consider it an alarm. And that’s why she could not love Ane; because peace was violence, and comfort an incomodity
@unsungcheerio