Page 18 of Scorched Hearts

Another match, this one particularly inviting- Louisa. Elle looked through all her photos; she was very pretty with sparkling brown eyes and blonde hair that reminded her frustratingly of Maya’s own deep brown eyes and blonde hair. She was a bit younger than Elle, working as a chef. They exchanged a few messages, it looked promising.

Up for a dinner together next week? Elle clicked “send.”

With pleasure, Darling Louisa responded.

Finally, Elle turned the phone off, casting it somewhere far away. The living room, in its spacious luxury, sometimes made her feel particularly soulless. Its large windows peered at the mowed lawns, and large, white surfaces of her furniture seemed to radiate a sad glow at night. She turned from side to side, fed up to the brim with her phone’s light and unable to sleep.

There was no love in this house, she thought to herself.

Ever since the kiss with Maya, her thoughts had been haunted by erotic imaginings, threads of dreams mixed with glimmers of hope. It had been so long since she had been with Maya and they had both been so young. The only lingering feeling was that of absolute intimacy, something she chased afterwards and never managed to find again.

With other women since Maya, she had attained such a level of skill sexually in just about every way there was for two women to have sex. Elle’s fingers tongue and strap could give pleasure in ways she had never known last time she had been with Maya.

Elle had women begging her to have sex with them one more time.

But, they had never felt the same. They lacked the emotional depth, they were acts of quick consumption.

The kiss with Maya had brought her blood to a boiling point, overcome her body with lust, made her understand what it could be like, if they were to make love again.

She shook her head, wanting to separate her thoughts by physically casting them away.

No, she wanted a new chapter. Maya had rejected every single advance she had made.

Surely this Louisa would fix up Elle’s heart. And holding that hope dearly to her chest, Elle slowly fell asleep.

“You’re a chef, what would you recommend?” Elle put on her most charming voice, hoping to convince herself this had been a good idea.

Louisa’s storm of short, curly blonde hair caught colorful specks of light reflected off of the restaurant's windows. She looked energetic and accompanied her words with vivid hand gestures.

“Hm… Probably Magret de Canard, since we’re at a French restaurant something involving a duck would be recommended,” she smiled. “I’m taking Poulet a la Provencale, I’ve been craving proper chicken!”

Elle felt herself quickly warming up to Louisa. The atmosphere was relaxed despite it being the first meeting, Elle didn’t have to try that hard, and Louisa’s occupation as a chef intrigued Elle, as something so very far from her own career… and as with pretty much all firefighters, Elle was a huge fan of eating food.

“I’ve never talked to a firefighter before,” Louisa swirled her wine with a knowing fluency of her wrist.

Elle raised her eyebrows, “what are your thoughts then, am I up to your expectations?”

Louisa deliberately looked her up and down with a hungry look in her eyes and Elle preened. She knew she looked good. She always looked good. “Exceeding them.”

Their dishes arrived, fragrant and steamy. The silence that followed interrupted only by their chewing and sounds of cutlery, let Elle plunge into thought.

Something strange lay in sweet talking each other so very explicitly. As Elle dug her fork into the duck, she thought of the delicious tension of uncertainty. The dance, as she called it. The push and pull of desire. Where was the space for that on dates such as this one? The only uncertainty that remained was when not if. There was no chase, and what Elle liked about dating, or sex, was the chase. Do you want me the same way I want you? was a question she could spend an eternity looking for the answer to.

Instead, she and Louisa had known what they came here for from the beginning. If there was no difficulty achieving affection, Elle reasoned, it would make sense for it to feel hollow, undeserved, expendable. Easily obtainable from someone else. But, she didn’t want to lose hope. Perhaps after a while, it would start feeling entirely natural, perhaps they’d forget where they met.

“Thanks for recommending me this, it actually tastes insane,” Elle nodded with approval, “should we go out for a smoke and get dessert?”

“Sure,” Louisa laid her cutlery down, getting ready to step out onto the terrasse.

“So, why’d you decide to become a firefighter?” Louisa lit her cigarette off of Elle’s, leaning in very close to her face.

“Oh, I just knew I’d be very good at it.”

“Cocky,” Louisa laughed. “Why’d you think so?”

Elle put her arm around Louisa’s shoulders, feeling the fleece jacket against her skin. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then responded, “I have always felt confident in dangerous situations. Focused.” She looked at Louisa, smiling, “At peace, perhaps.”

“That’s quite deep. To feel at peace in danger.”

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