Page 110 of Darn Knit All

I miss the taste of your cunt on my tongue

Mai

Theo!

Theo

I’m dying to taste you

Mai

One week to go...

Theo

Can’t fucking wait

Iached in both body and soul. I’d worked my way through missing Theo by throwing myself into the work required to pull together my first fashion show, but today the ache wouldn’t end.

Erike paused at my table, frowning as he checked my work.

His studio was a dream come true, and being tutored by a master, it fulfilled my greatest wish.

“This is good,” he said, lifting the garment up to the light. “What is this technique?”

“Sashiko,it means ‘little stabs.’” I touched a finger to the heavy stitching.

Developed during the Edo period,sashikohad been used for centuries to make fabrics stronger and warmer to combat the brutal winters.

“Myobaasantaught me the art ofsashiko. She used to sit me on her lap and let me play with replicating her work in the offcuts as she explained the differences in each pattern.”

“The patterns are important?”

I nodded. “The reason we use geometric patterns is because they’re evenly distributed.” I tugged at the jacket in his hands, demonstrating the lack of give. “It reinforces the material, making the fabric stronger.”

“It’s rather striking.”

A little fusion of annoyance bubbled up in me as I tried to explain its purpose. “It can be beautiful, yes. But more importantly, it’s functional. The needle is going through the fabric and leaving the thread behind as a way to strengthen it, protecting the wearer.”

Erike hummed under his breath. “And you hand stitched this?”

I nodded.

“It’s a good piece. But there is a sadness to your work.” He placed the jacket back on the table, raising his eyebrows. “You miss your partner.”

I sighed, crossing my arms and leaning a hip against the workbench. “Is it that obvious?”

His lips pursed. “You have the opportunity to be great, Mai. You could fly around the world, host shows in all the major cities. I can see your potential.” He tutted. “But you are lettingyour heart lead you down a road which would jeopardize all this.” He shook his head. “What a tragedy that would be.”

He tapped his knuckles against the bench then moved on to the next table, examining another of his apprentices.

I bit my lip, not sure how to respond. Erike wanted the best for me—for my designs to be seen by millions, for my pieces to be featured in magazines, for my name to become one which people recognized.

These were dreams that all designers had. And yet, my designs had begun to reflect the hollow ache that had carved its way inside me.

I missed Theo. I missed his smile, his laugh, the way he made me feel like anything was possible when we worked together.

But I had to admit that this separation had also been good for me. It had forced me to reevaluate our relationship—and my dependence on him.