Marius
I wasn’t lying when I told her how performing with her last night had changed me.
Well, not completely lying.
Withholding truth, maybe.
Withholding just how much it had changed me.
Withholding just how much my whole life had changed since she’d come (back) into it.
Withholding just how much I knew it was wrong to be lusting after my bandmate and best friend’s sister.
Withholding just how much I feared that I was going to go back to living the life I lived when she would inevitably have to leave it.
***
“Anca,” I whisper her name a few hours later, my voice muffled against the mass of her curls brushing my lips.
“Mmmgnightsleepsleeptimehmmmm,” she mumbles back.
“Sleep sleep time later. Motorcycle ride time now.”
Her steady breathing stops for a moment and her eyes flicker open.
“Did you just say ‘motorcycle?'” she mumbles.
I grin at her, knowing I’ve got her. Underneath that demure exterior is a daredevil.
“Come on, snoring beauty,” I tease as I nibble on her ear.
“I don’t snore!” She protests, pulling herself away from me. I grab her by the waist and pull her back against me.
“Okay, okay. You were just breathing out Tchaikovsky’s 1812 cannon section with your nose.”
“Bastard!” She growls at me as she wriggles away, grabbing my t-shirt from the foot of the bed and pulling it over her bare body. “So? You going to show me this motorbike or not?”
***
The lake is like a mirror.
So still, I daren’t even breathe in fear it will shatter the illusion, the cloudless, moonfilled sky reflected in the crystal clear water.
But for all the beauty of the scenery surrounding me, all I can focus on is the warmth of Anca’s face against my back. Her hands grip the sides of my waist as she straddles the bike behind me, as her chest lays against me, her face turned to the side as she drinks in the sights of Lake Annecy by moonlight.
I try not to think about what I’m bringing her out here to do. And why it needs to be done now.
We don’t say a word as we round the empty road that curves around the lake. Further and further away from the town center as the lakeside homes turn from tourist resorts to weathered, alpine chalets.
I know these houses by heart.
They line up like memory tiles along this strip of road, all leading up to the empty plot of land about two miles from the bustle of the main street of the city center. I lead the bike off the road and up a path into the overgrown grass, turning it so we face out onto the water, and turn the ignition off.
We don’t move for a moment, and I wonder if Anca’s fallen asleep. A deep sigh a minute later eventually answers my question and I feel her peel herself away from me.
“Where are we?”
“Still in Annecy.”
“I mean… this spot. Where are we?”
“Do you like it?”
She slides off the bike and takes a few steps forward. We’re mere feet from the water. But it’s so still I hold my breath, as if scared she doesn’t realize that that the glass like reflection is an illusion. That it’s not the night sky she’ll be stepping into.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I rock back on my heels, still straddling the bike, watching her skin turn an almost translucent quality, ethereal, in the hazy light.
“Agreed.”
She doesn’t hear me and takes a few more steps forward. Then, before I can stop her, she kicks off her sandals and runs into the water, up to her waist, before diving under, engulfed by the lake.
“Anca!” I call out and run to the edge of the water, throwing my leather jacket off and reaching for my boots.
She surfaces, her head emerging first from the water, breaking the seamless face of the lake, her arms rising to follow, splashing overhead, drawing an arc of crystal clear drops against the night.
“Come in here. The water’s beautiful.”
I know she must be crazy. This time of year, the water has only just thawed, trickling directly from the Swiss alps. I can see my breath against the cold air and yet she’s wading in the water like it’s a heated pool.
“You’re crazy.” I shake my head.
She ignores my words and dives under again, the shallow water hugging to the curve of her ass as she wades out further.
“Anca!” I shout in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the inhabitants of the nearby houses. Not wanting to disturb the indescribable peacefulness in the air.
She doesn’t answer and I can see her body draw ripples under the water as she swims even further out.
“Fucking hell.” I murmur as I realize I have no choice.
I kick off my boots and take a tentative step into the water.
“Shiiiiiittt,” my breath hisses, as my body tenses from the cold. How is she swimming in this? “Seriously, will anyone even know if I leave her out here?” The image of Jez flashes instantly in my brain and I sigh and try to ignore the cold as I wade right in.
She emerges from the water again, running her hands over her hair, pushing it away from her face. She grins at me and crooks a finger, urging me deeper.
“This was NOT what I had in mind when I suggested the motorbike ride,” I murmur to myself as I wade out to her, feeling the cold water seep through my clothes and chill my bones.
She watches me, her eyes never leaving mine. As I near her, within ten feet, I see her hand moving back and forth under the water, creating ripples that reach me, little circular waves that crash against my body before creeping to all corners of the lake. Then, before I can lift my arms in response, I watch her drag her hand from the water, and splash me.
I catch a handful of stinging cold across my face, my mouth still open in surprise. Her laughter echoes across the water, and she grins as she lowers herself into the water, cupping her hands full of freezing lake water. I run to her, my legs stiff from the cold and dragging under the water, but I reach her just as she tries to launch her next attack at me, catching her arms by her side and holding her laughing, wriggling body against me.
“You’re going to pay for that!” I promise her, and she squeals, trying to escape. I turn her to face me, and in an instant, her laughing mouth freezes, before she presses her lips against mine. The cold water turns into liquid silk. Warm and inviting in a second. Her arms come up around me, her hands in my hair, my hands cupping her ass, lifting her legs to wrap around my waist.