Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The decision was made, actually, months ago. But now that the opportunity to act on it was finally here, and right after power walking from an office turned her private room to a band-only common area, Florence hesitated and just stood there, in the doorway. It was only the jitters. She wasn’t having second thoughts, no, she was resolute, helped by an old certainty that this day would come sooner or later and that she would be ready for it. More than ready. More like at her wits’ end; at her rope's end; at her end line. And she would cross it. She absolutely would, she was just about to. Sweaty palms and bitten lips, she will cross the line.

The last week of April had come with sunny mornings.There was no one inside the room yet, except for the one whose chunk of blonde hair Florence could see peeking out from behind a couch, along with a hand of ringed fingers that ran through it from time to time. It has always amazed Florence just how quiet that woman could actually be when she wanted to, when she was alone. To be honest, Florence’s timing was movie-like perfect. Soon enough, people will be coming in and making noise, but the line would already be crossed, so there. Almost a month into their rehearsals, everyone will immediately notice the change of ambience and will be puzzled. And it will be funny as hell for Florence. She was so, so ready for that amusement too. But right about now, she swallowed hard, steadied herself, and walked in.

The room smelled of the fresh coffee that was waiting for the band at the lounge table, but Florence resisted its temptation and quickly took a seat in front of the couch. The other woman was now in full view: the sun came in from her right side along with the city sounds, warming her. She was reading a book and paid Florence no heed, with one leg under her, the maxi dress riled up to her knees. Of course, a sweatshirt was lying next to her; there were too many rings in each hand, hair carefully brushed, but no make-up. The coffee table between them held her phone and headphones, her sunglasses, her freshly printed-out schedule, her cup of tea…

“Well, good morning to you, too,” Florence said, ruffling her fringe and staring. The other woman smiled, but didn’t actually look up. There was the first foot put right on the line: it’s not like this conversation starter was out of the ordinary, but it was an intentional speech with an intentional tone. The other woman just didn’t know it yet, but it was the start of a new game. “You’re drinking tea!” She tried again, fighting with the book for the woman’s attention, dragging her foot across the line.
“Well, I’ll let you know that I am British.”
“But you’re also a musician on tour!”
“Not officially yet, the record won’t be out for a couple of months, dear.” She took the cup of tea off the table, lifting it up to Florence’s health, and took a sip. “I can put off the caffeine for a couple of hours.''
“But we’ve got new logos already,” Florence retorted with emphasis, reaching for the schedule of the table, waving it in front of her and pointing out where “High as Hope” was printed on the page. The other woman gave up and looked up at her, putting one finger between the pages of her book and closing it around it. Florence felt proud of the accomplishment of getting her half amused, half annoyed with whatever she was up to. The second foot on the line, sweeping. Florence let what that stare made her feel run all over her and bit her lip.

“You looked nice,” Florence said, with that particular inflexion of her voice, that mix of sweetness and nonchalance that only comes out in intimacy, in a certain privacy. Florence had taken the first step out of line. The other woman noticed it immediately, of course, she had been growing suspicious by the second, and raised an eyebrow. She then tossed the book on the coffee table and stretched in her seat, finally resting her head on the top, closing her eyes. With the movement, the sun drew figures on the fabric of her dress, and Florence could look for hours at the places where the dress gathered and where the sun hit the skin. But the door was open, and they both could hear the steps coming from the stairs getting louder. The clock was ticking on Florence and she wasn’t across the border yet.

The other woman put her two feet back on the floor and back into her heels, and ran her fingers through her hair once again. They could now hear voices in the hallway. Tick, tock. Luckily the staring helped the cause, so it seemed, because the blonde straightened up and looked right into Florence’s eyes, like she was trying to read her. A warning.
“Stop it,” she said, effectively snapping Florence out of her reverie and back into action. She answered with the most fake-innocent smile she was able to convey. Dreams for later. “I mean it,” she added. Now Florence stood up —feeling the other woman’s gaze upon her— and went all the way to her side, sat on the floor, put her forearms on the couch’s arm, her chin on them. One more step, one last move.
“I meant it too,” Florence whispered with the same mixture in her voice as before, but softer, closer, letting her feelings show up freely on her face.
The other woman scoffed and then laughed openly. Florence expected this reaction; half annoyed, half amused.
“You are so mean…” Florence said theatrically, and pouted for a second, and then smiled. They locked eyes for a bit, the other woman attempting to read Florence again with a raised eyebrow; Florence tilting her head over one shoulder and touching the fabric of the dress over the blonde’s thigh like tracing a little line, and then smiling again. She was giving her best performance, and it was all for her.
“Bloody hell.”
That was it, folks, that did the trick. That was too much, too intimate, too out of line. It crossed it. The other foot had joined the first, and Florence was now fully on the other fucking side. Finally. She knew it because just in that moment they heard a “Sorry” coming from Hazel, who stood frozen at the doorway, feeling she was interrupting something. Florence soon stood up, and went on to hug her hello, in an attempt to dissipate the tension Hazel definitely felt in the room. A fake attempt, of course. No matter how confused and dismissive the other woman was, the line was crossed. At least between them, which was the most important part, now all that was left to do was one or two little steps for the public. But that could wait.

As the boys that came with her filled the room with noise, Hazel kept her thoughts and feelings to herself, went on to say hello to the other woman, and then to the lounge table. A triumphant Florence followed in her footsteps, finally pouring herself some coffee next to her new pianist. They chatted for a while before she dared to look in the other woman’s direction. She was already sitting in Aku’s lap, of course, in conversation with Tom and Cyrus, and for the brief moment they exchanged looks, she eyed her suspiciously. That was enough for Florence. For now.
“Oh, but she’s just the absolute queen of this castle, isn’t she?,” Hazel interrupted Florence’s thoughts with a laugh, following her stare, as Tom approached them.
“Without a doubt, mate,” he said, laughing too, making two espressos. Florence could not agree more.

Isabella Summers reigned supreme among them. Every boy in the band, past and present, was a little bit in love with her. And now that they were joined by Hazel and Dionne, she led their new little coven. People gravitated towards Isabella, she was magical like that. And it wasn’t Florence’s rose-tinted glasses, it wasn’t her feelings clouding her judgment. It was the experience of knowing Isabella for almost fifteen years. It was a fact. And she wasn’t even doing it on purpose —when she did it on purpose, that was another kind of experience— she was as magnetic as she was mysterious, but she just was.

And so it came as no surprise that she charmed their band full of boys. The original line-up. The one that was stable for a decade. Florence was sure they would go to war for her, like Arthurian knights. They all denied it, of course. To be honest, Florence was a bit scared that that dynamic would be lost with the restructuring of the band: replacing the members that had decided to come off the road and adding two new ones. Actually, Florence liked her original band’s dynamic in general so much —a group of people that enjoyed hanging out together personally and professionally— that she had been a bit scared of losing it completely. Her band made things so much easier. She could never do her job with band tension, though a common thing in the business, she could never tour like that. But the restructuring took her fears into account, even if nobody mentioned it. The new members weren’t total strangers, most were invited by either Rob, Tom or Isa. (Maybe they have also been scared). Or they were people the band has worked with in the past. And it worked out. These rehearsals were a good test run for the upcoming tour. Their new band brought in a new dynamic, but not so dissimilar to the previous one, just different. A good ‘’different’’.

Rob, who now was replacing Chris as their musical director, came over to go through some details with Florence, and then the rehearsal started. Now the fun could begin for Florence on the other side of the line. She has had a decade to think about possible scenarios and every single possible reaction Isabella could have. She was not going to like it, that was a given. But everything else was up in the air. The uncertainty was kind of fun. It was giving Florence something similar to what she used to feel going out on a bender. A kind of sober high. So, as she stood facing the band during the rehearsal, she could look at Isabella often, and especially while they practiced the songs they wrote together, or that Florence wrote with her in mind. She let her emotions show up freely, for the first time in a long time, without a crowd to protect her. It wasn’t overly obvious, more like a delicate thing, but Isabella sure noticed, (and maybe Tom and her manager too, and Hazel), and raised an eyebrow, bit her lower lip in exasperation, sighed, and gave her the very special just-for-Florence warning looks accordingly during the whole time. Game on.

Well, she for sure wasn’t liking it. Things were going as planned in Project Crossing The Line.

But the decision was made, actually, years ago. You see, the goddamned line has existed for a decade altogether, sometimes thinner, sometimes thicker, but no matter what, always there. That wasn’t Florence's decision, she didn’t draw it, she didn’t like it. Things would be entirely different if it had been up to only her. But others also made decisions, especially, specifically, Isabella. She drew the line, and she has been in charge of keeping it all those years, of holding them both accountable, and Florence on the other side. And that’s exactly how Florence crossed it, by doing all the things she wasn’t “allowed” to do at the same time. Including creating tension in public, in front of others, even if it was just the band. But Florence knew that someday she would just not be able to handle it any longer, to hold back, to reign in, to keep pretending. Not with a voice in the back of her head repeating “fuck it” to her everytime Florence thought about it. It was honestly a surprise she has done it for so long.

And the thing was that, as exasperated as she may be now, this was a decade in the making. Isabella also knew this day would come.

Chapter Text

After rehearsal, everybody lounged for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Florence continued her new life on the other side of the line, raising a few eyebrows in the process. There was something different in the air and the people could feel it. Which made Isabella look like she was having a headache, so naturally, Florence approached her and fake apologised for the ordeal, as people started to leave. It was met with a scoff and a sigh.
“You gonna tell me what you want? Or you just gonna give me a migraine?,” said Isabella in a low voice, even though they were the only ones left in the room.
“You know what I want,” Florence said as she was notified her car had arrived, and promptly left, bumping into Tom —who was coming back with Isabella’s car to get her and go to lunch together— on her way out.
“For fuck’s sake,” was the last thing Florence heard Isa say and laughed wholeheartly, before meeting her manager outside and leaving.

Promotions for the new album had started already, since the first single was out and the second would follow within days, so Florence had a small interview after lunch. They chose a café close to the location, sat by a window and ordered some food. The redhead was enjoying the sun coming through when the manager’s voice broke the silence.
“What’s going on with Isa?,” she said, probably meaning “what are you up to?” and “why?”, actually.
“Well, I’m trying really hard to provoke her, Hannah,” Florence answered in all honesty.
“But why?”
“Well, to get her to react.”
“In which way!?” Hannah asked, understandably under some stress, ”And why so close to the tour?”
“Ideally....?” Florence laughed, she hasn’t given herself any room to think about something like that, her goals were more realistic for once. “Well, I’m hoping for any kind of reaction, really. Except, of course, the I'm-leaving-the-band one,if you’re worried about that.”
“But why?”
“Exactly because you don’t know! You, of all people! You don’t know!” Florence stared at the woman who managed her career for a decade with both love and frustration, as she also participated in the upholding of the line and now didn’t even remember it. She swore she could almost see the proverbial light bulb turning on in Hannah’s head, the understanding. Well, there it went one of the little steps left.
“Oh,” she said. “I haven’t thought about that in years.”
“Yeah, that’s the point.” Florence sighed. “I’m crossing the line she drew and everyone was fine with, except me.”
Hannah looked at her with tenderness, Florence was so young back then, everything was so chaotic and new. The woman in front of her was someone different, or perhaps just the grown-up version, so capable of elegance, more self assured, more present. Hannah thought that these developments were to be expected in a way, and she hoped for the best outcome for Florence, for Isabella, for the world-wide tour that was coming up.
“I just can’t keep pretending our relationship is something that is not, especially in my own private life, with my friends, with my band” Florence said finally, and the subject was dropped.

The interview went good and fast, and soon enough Florence found herself drained lying in her bed. There wasn't a rehearsal the next day, but it was finally beta listening day. At last! What a joy. See, Isabella was contractually required to be the beta listener to all their albums. Florence put that clause in her contract herself. Generally, it tied in with the rest of Isa’s post production obligations, but things were different this time. A series of decisions and events ended with Isa not taking part in the making of High as Hope. Which meant the beta listening was happening at the last possible minute before the second single’s release, with little to no production value as the album was done, except for abiding by their label’s requirements and Isabella’s obligations to Florence and The Machine. In all honesty, this should have happened in New York City months ago, when her opinion —and by “opinion” they meant “additional production”— was expected by everyone. But it seemed Isabella had scheduled her life as far away from High as Hope as possible, and so here they were.

Nonetheless, Florence was ready to seize any opportunity, so the next day couldn't come fast enough.

When Florence arrived at the studio, Isabella was already there for the meeting. She wondered when and how the party girl discovered she was an early bird. Probably touring. Florence was sure she had known for longer. The control room they were in was large, with a whole living room set up behind the control board. Isa was half lying down on a three-person couch, so Florence sat in the space left beside her.
“Oh, you look good today as well,” the singer said. “Must be a gift”
“Why, thank you. It is, actually.” The blonde tossed her hair a little. Two can play this game.
“So, so good,” Florence continued in a lower voice, changing the game to a more dangerous one, touching Isabella’s arm up and down with one finger. Isa laughed a little, and made a face, attempting to disarm Florence, to try and uphold the line, like she’s done in the past. But it was too late for that, the line was crossed, and Florence was ready for that. She was ready for everything Isabella could throw at her. So she kept touching her, staring longingly, as Isabella checked her phone and kept an arched eyebrow. They both bursted into a nervous laughter when they heard the door opening.

With the main producer of the album, Emile Haynie, a label representative, and Hannah there, the meeting started and went smoothly. Isabella sat with headphones on and did her job. Her words highlighted the good things she thought about the album and were encouraging. There wasn’t much left to say, anyway. At one point, Isa joked saying this meeting was more like running an errand, and that hurt Florence a little, but it was quite the truth, Florence had to admit. This record was her baby, but still wanted Isa to be close. She did much agree with June being the opening track, and suggested for it to become the live opener as well. Florence took those words to heart.

After Emile and the label representative left, Hannah told them Rob was nearby with Aku and Loren and were coming over, so maybe they could all go to lunch together. It was a yes from both Isa and Florence. While they were waiting for the guys, a dreadful thing happened: The absolutely not-ugly face of a studio technician showed up at the door asking if Isabella had a minute. And Isabella did have a minute. And with that, the absolutely ugly and totally familiar face of jealousy showed up at Florence’s mind’s door. She had forgotten that woman worked there. She had almost forgotten about her entirely since Isa broke up with her a couple of years ago. Almost. In fact, Florence went on with the whole crossing the line business because it was the first time in a long time both her and Isa were single at the same time. But now it seemed she was at least still talking to her ex. It didn’t change her plans, though, because Florence knew Isabella well and if it was anything serious, she would have said it already. There weren’t many things more important to her than loyalty.

Isabella didn’t come back before the boys arrived. They asked about her immediately, and Hannah explained the situation, smiling.
“It’s the sound tech she used to date, the brunette one.”
“Oh, yeah, me and Nikki met her,” said Aku. “We went to brunch together in Brooklyn a few times… Emily, I think she was.”
That Information was met with a chorus of “Yeahs” and “Rights”, and knowing looks, and smiles, because of course everybody remembered her. It has been Isa’s last real relationship, and was the first one in a very long time. See, Isabella wasn’t much for commitment, she liked saying, and preferred being free and single most of the time. How true this statement was, only she would know. But her behaviour was coherent, Emily has been her only partner in the last ten years. Anything else were one night stands and very casual dating. They were together for four years, though, so it was remarkable.

People kept talking about the subject, that Emily was so pretty, that it used to be a serious thing, that Isa seemed happy with her, that it was unlike Isa to keep in touch, so maybe that meant something. Etc., etc. Florence didn’t actually remember anything in particular about Emily at all. Only what her face and her relationship with Isa made her feel. A void in her chest, the seething burn of jealousy, and the little green monster of envy. She hoped these feelings weren’t showing up too much on her face, not that she was doing a lot to keep them in.
“You’re awfully quiet, Flo,” Loren said. Florence realised she hasn’t said a word since the boys came in. “Are you ok?”
“Yes, yeah—”
“Maybe she’s got the details and isn’t a big fan of Emily, are you Flo?” said Aku jokingly. “Maybe that Emily’s got the wrong vibe.”
It was the perfect opportunity. Hannah even gave her a look.
“She seems lovely…” Florence started. “But I get not to like her on principle.” She waited until she was asked what she meant, for theatrics’ sake. “Well, I am also Isabella’s ex after all”

The revelation caused the uproar it intended, and Florence heard some “Excuse me?” and “You are what again?”. She even heard Hannah sighed. This was the last little step away from the line she has planned. And it made her laugh.
“Jesus, I’ve forgotten about it, mate,” said Rob with an astonished look on his face, like he has been betrayed by his own memories.
“You knew? That means you also knew,” Loren said, pointing at Hannah.
“Yes, well—”
Isabella walked in around this time, and as soon as she did, she noticed many pairs of eyes on her all of the sudden.
“Oi, what the fuck?”
“Florence is your ex?!” Aku both exclaimed and asked, and the voice inflexion made Isabella laugh a little. It was such a surprise, it looks like.
“Well, yes she is.”

Chapter Text

The lunch went fantastic. Neither Florence nor Isa provided more details about the revelation, neither Hannah nor Rob made any comments and neither Aku nor Loren wanted to be the first person to ask. So everyone tacitly agreed on avoiding the subject by being in their best social behavior. Everyone was funny, engaging, full of anecdotes and accommodating. As per usual, to be honest, but with an elephant in the room. Florence found the situation hilarious, as she thought she was going to from the start, and was still relishing it when she was dropped home.

Later, it took waiting for the kettle to boil for Florence to think about Isabella’s demeanor during lunch, the subtle smile, the glimpse in the big blue eyes. It had been funny for her too. Actually, though she was definitely not happy that the line was crossed and she was not in that situation willingly, she definitely seemed amused in a way: she had been responding to Florence’s teasing with a sort of fond frustration Florence was very familiar with, she straight-forward answered Aku’s exclaimed question, her behaviour at the café… It took Florence by surprise in an unexpected way. She knew deep down that Isabella wouldn’t react so badly for it to cause a serious problem. Isa would be Isa. But because Florence was used to catastrophizing so much, she didn’t really have a plan for Isabella’s amusement so much as she had a plan for her potential anger. In the end, it didn’t matter, she needed to have a conversation with Isa, and the talking points will still be the same. And sure those smiles did a number in Florence’s stomach, but they didn’t mean anything else than just Isabella being herself, a natural flirt, right? Right. The water was ready for her tea.

The next rehearsal, Florence had a complicated morning and was running late, so she rushed through the studio doors and up the stairs towards the band common room. But she stopped in her step as approaching the door, she could hear the conversation happening inside. Of course, everybody had heard the gossip already: The new people in the band were completely surprised. Tom was not, of course. Florence’s personal assistant had been at a loss for words for a whole five minutes. And now Isa, the more approachable of the two, was being interrogated.
“For how long were you together again?” Aku asked. “It must have been serious for you..., you know”.
“A little over three years...” said Isa. “And I know, alright? It was a serious thing, we lived together basically.”
Then Isabella told a reserved version of their love story. Truthful, but reserved. She told them how they met the way everybody knew, at a party, through Florence’s boyfriend of the time to whom Isa made remixes for his band. That they were friends at the beginning, but things changed with time. (The summer before Florence turned 19, actually). How she practically lived in Isa’s flat. How they were together until the band's first singles came out. But she didn’t say anything about the break-up. So, naturally, when she was asked, she said it was one of those cases, you know, when it is for the best. Florence quietly disagreed from behind the door.
“But why keep it a secret?” asked Loren.
“It wasn’t so much a secret, like a forbidden thing, we just decided not to mention it at first, like I said, we thought it was for the best, and then I guess it became a habit.” She answered. Florence thought that was only a half true.
“And now we’re breaking the habit,” Loren commented.
“Yeah, I guess we are,” said Isa.
“It’s still hard to believe, all these years,” Dionne said and was echoed by most people in the room.

Florence understood where the band came from. See, the matter changed everything. It put Isa and Florence’s relationship through a whole new lense, their dynamics, their actions, their words. It even changed the band’s origin story: they weren’t two collaborators that found each other, they were a couple. Lovers. It put a spin on the whole soulmates thing that was thrown around so much. It was so important that it was kept quiet, and then completely forgotten. And that was exactly what Florence wanted, for everyone to know and remember the truth, even if the conversation changed once she walked into the room.

By the end of their work day, Isabella offered Florence a ride home. They needed to talk. And talk they did, about anything and nothing, all the way home. Isa parked in front of Florence’s house, and turned to look her in the eye.
“Right…” she started “Are you gonna tell me what you want with this little revolt of yours?”
Florence stared back and answered truthfully, “You know what I want, I'm not looking for anything else”
“So you already got what you wanted, am I wrong?
“No, you’re right. I was just sick of having to hold my tongue, of allowing people to not know and to forget,” said Florence with passion “It’s such an important part of my life, I wanted to feel free to mention it!”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s my right, but yes, that’s it.”
“Mhmm” Isa seemed unconvinced but didn’t push it. The conversation was over now and Florence exited the car with mixed feelings.

It wasn’t exactly it. The little game Florence started was still on. May came and went fast enough, and with it, the release of the second single of the new album and their first concerts with the new band. All of these allowed for backstage flirtation which kept Florence motivated and on her feet, because Isabella was a tough crowd to please and a known flirt herself, so it was a whole task. That was her new plan in response to Isabella’s amusement, more flirting. The game developed into each attempting to out-flirt the other, and two things could be said about it: that Isabella was winning, and that it was a dangerous one.

June and July melted into one, with a few gigs and the bulk of promotion in their hands. Florence and Isabella kept playing their game. The redhead should have known Isabella would have the upper hand, at the end of the day Florence was still in love and the blonde wasn’t.That was the hard truth. But Florence was okay with that, she accepted this truth a very long time ago, and now both of them were having fun. A sort of twisted kind of fun, that is.

August brought the official beginning of the High as Hope Tour and everyone was excited. September brought endless hotel rooms. Florence found touring really hard, but every accommodation posible was made for her, and so she felt ready for everything, even the gray business hotels. By this time, the whole band has walked into Florence and Isa in one situation or another, which was very funny as some still haven’t come around to the idea of them together, let alone their new little game.

But September also brought another development, one afternoon after sound check. Isabella was in Florence’s dressing room, both sitting on the couch in front of the mirror, waiting for the time to start getting ready. Florence got closer to Isa and laid her head on the other woman's shoulder. It was time to play.
“We always looked good together,” Florence whispered.
“I suppose it helps that you’re so beautiful.” replied Isabella matter-of-factly while scrolling on her phone.
“You could at least look at me when you say those things”
She put her phone away and looked at the redhead in the eye. Florence felt her interiors melt as they were so close, closer than ever since their break-up.
“Like that?” the blonde said with a tone of voice Florence hadn’t heard in the longest time. And soon, electricity passed from one to the other and suddenly the redhead felt Isabella's lips on her own. A kiss. For the first time in years. A real one. For the first time in a decade.

Chapter Text

Throughout some of the ten years since their break-up, Florence had kissed Isa on some occasion or other, often in jest, little kisses in front of others, posing for pictures. But this one was entirely different, it was private, long, intentional, and started by the blonde. She, the one who always remarked the limit, the distance between them, has now turned their little game into something else. Florence didn’t expect such a turn of events, but was more than ready to let herself be lost in the moment.
Coming out for air, Isabella broke the kiss and Florence felt the lost connection in the pit of her stomach.
“Are you now going to tell me what you really want out of all of this?” Isa cut the silence.
Florence sighed “I told you I already have what I wanted, this is all extra” she said and added honestly “I’m having fun and it seems that you’re having fun too, there’s nothing wrong with that”.

That first kiss opened a door for more, and soon their exchanges grew heated. They started to make out in bathrooms like teenagers, and in dressing rooms. Then came the heavy petting in bed at the not-so-dreadful-anymore hotel rooms. Sharing beds wasn’t anything new, but now the line wasn’t there, and Florence couldn’t be happier while her hands were on Isa’s body. It took a while for them to actually have sex. Isabella was hesitant for multiple reasons, one being that sex was a level-up in their game. Florence laughed because Isa felt there was another line to be crossed. But maybe she was right. Things were going to change for sure, but it was also inevitable, they were on the brink of the abyss.
“I’m not the same as I was back then,” said Isabella one night, with Florence straddling her, disheveled over the pillow, breathing heavily. Another reason. The redhead thought her heart was going to burst with love. If only Isabella knew. Florence had been dreaming of this since the last time she got to touch the other woman, fantasizing about it, touching herself to the thought. She’s been observing Isa all these years, and was intrigued about what could be so different.
“I’m not the same person I was back then either” Florence answered. This was true in more ways than one. “I’m bringing in more experience, but I’m sure you could still show me a thing or two.”
Isabella smiled for a moment but then turned serious again, “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, but it’s ok, I’ll mapped you again with my tongue,” Florence said centimetres away from Isabella’s face. That did the trick, the blonde closed the gap between them and Florence fulfilled her promise.

Pillow talk has always been Florence’s favourite part about having sex with Isa. Post-sex Isabella was her favourite Isabella, with drunk Isabella as a close second. Satisfied and half asleep, she was a delight to talk to, more open to listening to Florence's chattery, less mysterious. Florence always took advantage of it.
“Somehow this feels like the first time,” she said.
“Well, it’s the first time in ten years more or less,” Isa answered, “but it was very different from our actual first time.”
“That’s true”, Florence said, turning to face Isa and supporting herself on her elbow. “You remember?”
“Of course I do”
“Doesn’t matter, I’ll tell you all about it from my point of view.” Isabella just laughed and Florence got ready to tell the tale.

Everything started at the beginning, like all stories do, when they first met.
“I thought this was about the first time we had sex” Isabella interrupted.
“And it is, but for me it all started way earlier. Now listen,” Florence said while the blonde settled down on bed. The redhead ran a finger up and down the sheet that covered Isa’s naked body.
So it all started when they met at that fateful party at that fateful warehouse. The party was thrown out by the art collective Isa was a part of and the meeting took place in a basement where Florence’s boyfriend’s band was about to play. She remembered so clearly. It was actually the only thing she remembered with certainty about that night.Isabella was a child of !Wowow! and she was sitting on a couch surrounded by boys. Florence’s boyfriend was invited to join in and she went along. She knew some of the people there, and she had seen Isabella multiple times before: Isa was a known local DJ, and she also rented her little studio in Crystal Palace to Matt’s band and made remixes for them. But they had never been officially introduced. So it was a laugh that they were introduced twice in the same hour by two guys named Matthew. As they were the only girls around, Isabella eventually sat down next to her and they started talking.
“I’ve seen you around”, the then-brunette said, “with Matt.”
“I’ve seen you around too”, Florence answered, but now was the first time she was actually paying her attention: the wavy hair, the tight clothes, the high heels, the eyes, the legs. She was immediately dazzled, though at first she thought it was the pills kicking in. They chatted for a while, but soon it was too loud to talk when the band started playing. And before she knew it, Isabella was gone, as her turn behind the decks was about to start on the upper floors. Now with the pills totally kicking in, she thought Isa was lost forever, until she ventured upstairs on her own, and found her table-turning in the room with all the Christmas trees. She has had a crush on Isabella ever since.

At first, Florence was sure talking to Isa again was going to be hard, as parties are not the best place to get to know a person, like she wanted to. But soon enough, she came up with a strategy. Things worked out for Florence in an unexpected way. You see, the girlfriends of the other members of Matt’s band were never too happy with Isa being around the boys. The girls were a united front in this matter but never came up with a solution that satisfied all the parties. Florence had never paid too much attention to the ordeal until the night she met Isabella. Now she could see why the girls were jealous, she was incredibly attractive. So, in the face of these circumstances, Florence volunteered a solution: she would go to (almost) every rehearsal and other work the Ludes had at Isabella’s place and absolutely pay attention to prevent any wrongdoings. She sang backup vocals for the band anyway, even if now she had a secret agenda. True be told, the other girls weren’t just imagining things, all the guys had at least a crush on the brunnette, including Florence’s boyfriend. Isa, on the other hand, was completely uninterested. But with this arrangement, Florence saved the Ludes from a lot of arguments. Now with a great excuse to be around, Isa and Florence slowly but surely became friends. Matt even joked once that she seemed in love with Isabella. He was onto something.

Her relationship with Matt started to deteriorate as her feelings for Isa grew stronger. And soon he was out of the picture, but Florence's plight still had a long way to go, as Isabella didn’t seem interested in her that way. Fair enough, she was six years younger than her, and still a minor. But still. The problem was that Isabella was out and about, and since her eighteen birthday, Florence was convinced she was going to fuck everyone but her.

There was, of course, another side to their relationship. Their music. Isabella was in a creative rut when they met, wanting to work with a girl on something different, and discovering in Florence what she was looking for since she heard her sing for the first time at a Ludes’ gig. Florence sang at every opportunity she had, at every open mic, with a makeshift band, improvising. Later on, at one point, Florence would even be part of a band herself, and almost were entangled with a contract. But between Isabella and her, the two of them alone, they built a whole world of their own, remarkable and unreachable, for almost two years until their relationship took a turn, and for the rest of their lives.
“One day, you’re going to show me the world”, Isabella had said once. Prophetic.

But going back to the matter at hand, Isabella lived in Florence’s fantasies and Florence lived in an almost constant state of jealousy and envy of Isabella’s partners. More like Isabella’s one night stands. Even then she was already saying she wasn’t interested in relationships, as they were too messy, and she enjoyed her freedom. This was terrible for Florence’s fantasies —that more often than not involved sex— because late at night, when she was completely by herself, they also involved a relationship, with anniversaries, and dates, and all that. In all honesty, Florence was that kind of girl, the girlfriend type, and there was nothing she could do about it.

While she longed for Isa, something terrible happened the summer of her nineteen birthday. A particular guy, nice and tall, came around more than once, more than thrice. That shook her out of her fantasies and onto the real world. The thought of Isa dating somebody when Florence couldn’t even get a kiss—or Isa dating at all to be fair— was too much to bear. So she made a decision.The sheer envy she felt for that guy made her start to flirt, just to get a reaction. The half amused, half annoyed reaction for the first time. And Isa always flirted back, almost automatically. But in between it all, Isabella had given her a look or two that fueled her hopes, and she couldn’t stand it any longer. She would act on her feelings and face the consequences. If she was rejected, that would be the end of it, and so be it.

So one day, in the middle of a heat wave, it was almost as if her body was acting of its own accord. They had been together all day at Crystal Palace’s small festival and now, as the night fell, they were hanging out in the studio by themselves. Isabella was tidying things up, moving around the little space while Florence stared at her sitting up in a corner of the only table that could fit in the place. She was wearing a sundress and was eating a popsicle. It was like a porn film, she thought. Her imagination was running wild and she couldn't stop it. So she stared at the other woman dressed for the heat, dreaming.
“You’ve been doing that all day and maybe you should stop” Florence heard like through water.
“Doing what?” She answered and she was almost sincere as her body screamed at her she was doing nothing. But it seemed she was crossing a line.
“The heavy flirting, the staring, whatever you’re doing with that popsicle” Isabella said staring back directly at Florence’s soul. That last bit was lost to Florence, she was sure she wasn’t doing anything with the ice lolly but her body was out of her control that day.
“And if I don’t stop, then what?” Florence heard herself say, with a bold she didn’t know she had. Isabella laughed wholeheartedly.
“Don’t start something you won’t finish,” she warned.
“I’m all in,” Florence answered, leaving the ice pop stick next to her, and leaning forward.

Isabella moved slowly but surely towards her, like giving her some time to relent. But soon enough she was in front of her, between her legs, and taking her head between her hands, and kissing her. God, that first kiss. Nothing will ever be compared. It made Florence shiver and a bolt of electricity went from Isa all the way down Florence’s body. Soon her hands were on Isabella’s back, up and down, as the other woman pinned her down on top of the table. All that was possible anyway, Florence’s own back was against the wall.

They made out for the longest time, Florence was sure she would soon explode if things didn’t move further. But they did. Isabella took her hand and moved her toward the floor—the only possible space for the deed—and into her lap. Florence was across her, sitting in the place between Isa’s legs, one arm behind her, the other hand touching her, Florence’s back was now against the records’ shelf. She was towering over the other woman, but Isa was totally in control. Florence had imagined this, that Isabella was dominant in sex, but for the first time in her life, things were better in real life than in her mind.

Isabella’s hand made a trail from her leg up, lifting the dress, and Florence had a revelation. She had harbored the hope that if she slept with Isa, knowing the woman stand on relationships, the silly crush would be fulfilled and she could move on. But as soon as Isabella reached her stomach and laid a hand flat on it, Florence was convinced it would never be enough. She could never have enough of it. It made her feel like her body was on fire and things were just getting started.
“Are you sure about this?” Isabella asked as her fingers moved against Florence’s lower stomach.
“Oh, god, yes!” she exclaimed and closed her eyes for emphasis.
Isabella pulled the straps of her dress down, uncovering her breasts and moved her hand up, slowly going around her tits before touching her nipples with a softness that made Florence moan in response and yearn for more. Shortly thereafter, the hand was all the way down, her pants were gone, and two of Isabella’s fingers were inside of her while her palm put pressure on her clit. Florence had had a crazy year sexually speaking, but this was the first time she felt anything like it. She felt her whole body twist beneath Isa’s touch, and too soon close to the edge. She tried to fight it, but she lost. She gripped Isabella’s shoulder as she came. The orgasm was long and intense, she felt her head spinning, her toes curling. It was perfect but it was over.

Isabella touched her throughout her comedown, moving with her. It was only when Florence was back on Earth that she realised the state she was in. Her dress all scrunched up over her belly, leaving her practically naked while Isa was fully dressed. She was sure her hair and face were a sweaty mess. All in all, a very vulnerable, totally sexy situation. Isabella had undone her with just one hand. What else could she do? Florence wanted so badly to find out, she wanted more, she wanted to touch Isa back, but she had other plans.
“You should get dressed,” Isabella told her with a smile but said nothing else, her hands now in her own hair, pulling it up in a ponytail. Florence obeyed, the smile giving her hopes for another opportunity. If Isabella was up for it, they could become fuck buddies or something, and that would be enough for Florence, right? Right.

The day ended with them at a party next door, and nothing said about what happened, but Florence couldn’t stop thinking about it until the next time.

“So that’s the story, innit?” said Isa with a smile.
"That is the story indeed," Florence replied.