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“Oh my God! Madame, are you alright? Are you hurt?”
Honestly, save for her dignity and self-esteem, everything was good.
…Ok, that and the fact her vision was blurry and spotty. But that was only a tiny detail.
Lune groaned and tried to turn her head to hide her eyes from the blinding light of the sun but her attempt was unsuccessful. It had only served to put more sand in her hair and cause more agitation for the person above her with a distant voice, a blurry shape moving in her peripheric vision by her side.
“-dame? Madame?”
It was the stranger's soft voice again…
Lune sighed.
How did she end up here, actually?
…Ah.
Ah, yes.
Perhaps she would have preferred to forget it entirely.
The afternoon had begun wonderfully well. It was one of those beautiful summer afternoons where the sky was a placid blue and the sea was calm, a light breeze preventing the beach from feeling like a scorching desert. Lune was sitting on the white sand with a large white hat and her red-hearted sunglasses and was enjoying an excellent book, lulled by the cadenza of her reading and the sound of the seafoam.
And this book had truly been a fascinating read! It was a detailed account of the Academy's historiography, written in a concise speech, and she often found herself quickly lost to the fabulous stories of the past.
The horizon was tranquil, she had finished her weekly reports, it was Saturday. Plenitude was the only word to her mind and she was reassured to see that her yoga lessons were starting to take effect.
When she suddenly felt wind above her head, her black hair flowing along, and saw a shadow in her field of vision.
She was starstruck as she lifted her eyes.
The scenery around faded away, and she only had eyes for her.
Only ten meters away from her towel was a young woman, with sun-gilded skin and long bronze hair tied in a ponytail balancing with each of her steps. Her skin shone with sweat and the droplets from the waves, the salt beads pearling on her elegant tattoos which covered a large part of her body. Her eyes were alight with glee and her big smile painted with freckles was making Lune lose reason.
Her lithe and athletic silhouette was moving with grace and Lune could not detach her gaze. Especially because the pretty young woman was dressed very simply for the beach, in a simple two-piece swimsuit which showed very well her silhouette. Lune had never thought that she would be the kind to stare shamelessly, but it served to admit that with such an idyllic view, it was hard to stop taking it all in to go back to reading…
My God, she was attractive. Pulsing muscles put to action, a firm chest beneath her top, a thin waist and abs that Lune could only dream of tracing with her fingers… and the rest was just as enticing…
Lune felt her face redden the more she drank in the view. She bit her lip while sighing.
Oh, what she would not give to dare speak to her…
And this exact moment her prayers seemed to have come true, et the pretty stranger turned in her direction and said with big, wide – and beautiful – eyes, “duck!”
Lune blinked in confusion. What?
She was honestly much too busy watching her biceps flex as the young woman made big signs with her arms.
But Lune did not even get time to wonder why an expression of panic appeared on the stranger's face, that a sharp pain struck her and she found herself laying on the sand.
That was to say, Lune would have really rather forgotten the reason for her sudden unease.
Her grounded face put her directly in front of the incriminating weapon;
and seriously, who got hit right in the mug by a frisbee because she was too busy peeping scantily clad young women!?
…well Lune, apparently.
“Madame?” The stranger's voice repeated.
Lune raised her head weakly and was blessed by the vision of the young woman, reassured, giving her a soft smile.
“Oh saints be praised, you are alright.”
The stranger bent down to better examine her, and Lune barely had the time to think, oh what pretty eyes, and what pretty lips… that her gaze swayed a bit further down, right into her bra, and her face burst anew into flames.
And… oh fuck, she was straddling her waist!? That was way too much for Lune's weak little heart!!
“Oh,” murmured the stranger, placing a soft hand on his forehead. “You are burning up. That's not good.”
She raised her voice higher and called out, “Gus! Get over here!”
“Is everything alright, Sciel?”
And the young woman – Sciel. What a pretty name. It was like they were matching…– set her golden eyes back on Lune.
“Do not worry, Madame. I am sincerely sorry about the frisbee, you cannot imagine how much, but I am going to make sure that you will be okay.”
And with a face and body like that, Lune would have followed her to the depths of Hell.
Lune nodded a bit dumbly, an even more stupid smile spreading on her face.
“Lune…” she said softly.
Sciel titled her head. “Did you say something?”
“You… can call me… Lune…”
Sciel chuckled gently and Lune had to ask herself very seriously whether the frisbee had not killed her on impact and she had awoken in Paradise.
“Okay, okay,” the young woman agreed, her chill hands feeling so good against Lune’s heated face… “I'm happy to see that you can manage to speak. Try to keep on, yeah? My friend's coming.”
Lune pouted. She would have preferred that the two of them remained alone…
But at least she had the pleasure of seeing this pretty dimpled smile and that was worth all the gold in the world.
She sighed with satisfaction as these cold hands continued massaging her face. She was trying to focus on the beauty above her but her eyes shut.
“Gustave,” Sciel repeated insistently, “get over here.”
Lune heard footsteps on the sand then a masculine voice mumbling, “-am here, I'm here, ah, fuck, I can't teleport!”
Lune felt her head being orientated gently.
“Look,” Sciel whispered in the direction of the newcomer, “is it just me or is she super red?”
Lune groaned against her will. Great, exactly what she wanted to hear from a pretty woman…
“...I don't think that it's because of the frisbee, Sciel.”
One hand brushed her hair nervously. “I did throw it very hard…”
“I still do not think that you can cause a concussion. Even with your back shaped like a triangle.”
“Oh my God,” Sciel mumbled, “you think that she got a concussion!?”
“...Did you listen to a single word of what I've just said?”
“Gustave! You can't blame me for panicking when I've hurt a pretty girl!”
Ah, Lune thought with a satisfied smile, she finds me pretty.
There was a pregnant pause.
“Well,” Gustave said, “at least we know that she can still talk.”
...Did she say that out loud?
“Lune, you're still talking out loud,” Sciel replied in an amused tone.
…
Was it too late to go and drown herself into the sea ?
“I strongly advise against it.” Gustave said, openly restraining his laughter. She opened her eyes and saw a brown-haired man holding a water bottle and looking something up on his phone.
Sciel sat up straighter and her chest was now even more noticeable. She turned her head towards her friend.
“So? What do you think she has?”
Gustave bent down to pick up the frisbee and drop the water bottle, looking at Lune with a smirk she was not really sure she liked.
He paused with utmost drama. “I think…”
Sciel moved some more and her thighs rubbed against her hips, and my God Lune was going to disintegrate on the spot.
“...that she has nothing.”
“What!? But Gustave, can't you see that-”
“The only thing I can see is that I'm gonna scram, and very quickly at that.”
“Gustave!”
“Sciel.”
But the man stepped away from them good news and merely laughed.
“It's just a heatstroke,” he replied without turning back. “I left you two a water bottle.”
“A heatstroke? But what could've caused it?”
And the last thing Gustave said was, “look at her bag!”
Why would she need to…?
The two women turned at once towards her beachbag. It was a bag just like any other. White, pink and orange, perfectly normal colo-
Oh.
Oh. Fuck, that was embarrassing.
Lune sat up straighter in one swoop – which was not an amazing idea, as her head immediately protested– and attempted to hide the bag in the sand.
Except that their new change of position meant that Sciel's face was directly in front of her’s.
And her perplexed expression and pretty lips were begging to be kissed.
“Ohhhhh” Sciel said. “I see what he meant.”
Lune dreaded her answer.
Sciel grabbed the water bottle and tried to make her drink. “It's a heatstroke!”
Lune let herself be led. She was almost entirely sure that no, that was not what the man had meant, but well. That was better than being embarrassed.
But Sciel placed one hand on her nape, took Lune's hand to her waist, and-
Wait, what was she doing…?
Sciel winked. “And to think that nobody believed me when I said I was hot enough to get pretty girls like you to melt.”
…
This time Lune had a smile on her lips as she fainted, knowing that she would be in very good hands.