"Tell me the story again." Emelià calls out from my bedroom and I shake my head as I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my wet body. I walk out to the bedroom and sit down on the bed beside her, the warm night-time breeze flows through the open windows and Sabrina plays on the TV in the living room down the hall. Although neither of us are watching it, Emelià refuses to turn it off in case she 'misses anything' despite seeing it hundreds of times.
"I don't understand why, I've already told you plenty of times and nothing much even happened." I say as I reach over to the bedside table and grab the small white nail polish jar. I unscrew the lid and feel Emelià's brown eyes burning into me as I do so. I begin to stroke the colour onto my index finger, remembering Harry's two single nails painted black.
"Fine, but it's the last time." I give in, knowing very well she won't stop bugging me until I tell her.
"He cooked me a 'traditional English breakfast' with eggs, baked beans, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms and toast but I made him add halloumi which put together it was actually really good. Then we sat for a little while talking until I decided my social battery was out and Shelley probably wanted me home." I say, finishing my right hand and moving onto my left hand.
"Which was what time, again?" Emelià eggs me on as she lifts Shelley onto her lap and begins to scratch behind her ears.
"Twelve." I mumble with a smirk and she throws her head back with laughter.
"How quickly you change up will never cease to amaze me." She smiles and I stand to my feet and go to my chest of drawers and pull out a pair of cotton underwear and slide them on underneath the towel as I watch Emelià continue to laugh at the circumstances. I turn around and drop my towel to the ground, feeling the breeze from outside caress my collar bones and breasts and I shiver slightly. The ocean outside is well hidden in the darkness of the evening but the waves continue to crash against the bricks that separate the pathway, illuminated with golden streetlights.
I slide my oversized Sydney Rock-Cafe tee-shirt over my bare chest and turn back around to face Emelià who lay sprawled out on the bed. I walk over to the light and switch it off and climb into bed next to her. I rest my head on the green pillowcase and close my eyes, facing her. For a little while, we lay in silence on top of the covers because of how hot it is. The ocean waves from outside my window calm my ragged breathing as I focus on the scent of salt and the sound of the water curling against the bricks.
"Hey, Bronwyn?" Emelià asks me softly and I hum at her in response.
"I miss her." She whispers into the quiet of my bedroom and I open my eyes and look at her, her hands folded under her cheek as she lay facing me. I look at her face, her dark skin brightening her eyes as she looks at me. Emelià rarely speaks about these things, especially not the tourist which she fell in love with – Nina. I exhale and move my head closer to her and kiss her forehead and take one of her hands in mine.
"I know you do, and that's okay." I whisper back and she shuffles into the bed, getting comfortable. We lay in silence for a moment until she speaks again.
"I know you're scared to let anyone in after what happened in Australia, Bronwyn. But falling in love is so fucking great. It really is incredible." She whispers and I sigh at her and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Then how come my best friend lay beside me in so much pain?" I whisper back and she smiles the kind of smile you see in others who have lost their light but still use the smoke that's left burning on the wick inside of them to spark a light in others. It makes me feel happy when I see her smile, but not this kind.
YOU ARE READING
Portofino // h.s.
Romance"There wasn't anything for me at home anymore, I guess. What about you? You're clearly not from around here so why did you come here of all places?" He asks me. "To escape." I admit. "And did you escape it?" He asks and I linger upon his words, ca...
