This story has been set to a rating of PG-13. Age verification is required to proceed.
Waking, Tina stretched, wiggling her toes deeper under the blankets, the familiar smell of Bette’s laundry detergent filling her nose. It smelled like home. Carrie was allergic to the scented detergent, so Tina switched to a scentless Arm and Hammer Sensitive Skin detergent when Carrie stayed over. The symbolism in such a simple act as changing laundry detergent to make it as bland and empty as the rest of her life was not lost on Tina.
She knew stories, knew the threads that weave through a plot and this one was just too rich to ignore. But… this was a morning for relishing that she was one step removed from Carrie and one step closer to Bette. And that was cause for celebration.
Besides…. how nice was it to smell a fragrance on the sheets… Tina knew it was special order under the Diva brand. Wildflowers? A forest glen? Bouquet of pansies or tulips? Hard to say. Heavenly for sure. The sheets were satin, the blankets fluffy and warm, the room muted in the softness of the morning light. It was a room to dream in, to rest, to read or snuggle. A room that screamed for intimacy, for whispered secrets and warm embraces.
Turning to face the door, she listened to the sounds of the house waking up… someone was in the shower down the hall, the faint sound of a siren from outside, a dog barking a couple houses down. Dancer was his name… no… Danger. This had amused Bette to no end when Danger was found to be a tiny dachshund, more prone to laying on his back for tummy rubs than to inspiring fear.
Tina idly wondered if Bette still stopped to give Danger a treat after her run… did Bette still run? Frowning she realized she had lost track of the way the brunette filled her time and the implications of that thought made her want to vomit. Running had been something they did together but hectic schedules in New York and Angie’s school requirements ended the joint runs, both fitting their exercise in on their own time. One of many ways they began to drift.
Hearing a buzz, she reached for her phone under the pillow, seeing 23 unread text messages from Carrie and one from Alice. “Talk to Bette. She will listen. You should see this hotel. Call me. Love you.”