The two lounged in the comfort of their brownstone, coated with the aura of strong emotions.
So young– so in love. It felt like they lived in an everlasting euphoria, but that was nothing less of a tale.
On Tuesday, it felt like the wind softly traveled down Whitney's spine, easing her mind whilst the serenity settled in her bones.
On Thursday, it felt like fire evaded Robyn's esophagus– and no matter how hard she tried to breathe, she felt nothing less of a fire breathing dragon.
It was on Sunday, though, when the nonchalant beauty and the passionate dame crossed paths like a glacial blaze in the heart of the supernova. It was dangerous, sure, but it felt so damn good– and who in their entire mind would give that up?
— ¢ —
"Look at me," Robyn, softly said, holding the younger woman's chin up.
"Can you be honest with me?" Whitney asked, grabbing the woman's hand, attaining her undivided attention.
"Aren't I always?" Robyn replied with that infamous smile, although her puffy eyes and cracked voice opposed anything to smile about.
"I need to hear you promise that no matter what, we will always work it out. I need assurance that this isn't the single most riskiest decision of my life because Robyn, to be quite honest, I can't live without you in my life. I can't imagine walking those red carpets, getting those awards, touring the world– I won't function if you aren't right here by my side. So please, promise me that this is the final destination. Promise me that the road ends here before we jump off that cliff together. Promise me that you won't leave me..."
As if the emotions in the air weren't already heavy, the abundance of tears returned– enough to make concrete shatter.
"Whitney– I am 29. I have been by your side since I was 19 years old, scared of the world. Even when you broke my heart, I couldn't leave. I tried. I don't know much about spirituality but I have every reason to believe that you're my soulmate for eternity. I can't fathom the idea of living a life without you in it. You're my best friend before anything and I will take six shots to my chest before I leave you. You want to hear it? Well listen up. Whitney Elizabeth Houston, I promise that we will always work it out. If not for the sake of our relationship then at least for the sake of our friendship. I promise that this is the final destination. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I promise that the road ends here before we do some stupid ass shit and jump off that cliff because at the end of the day, dying with you is so much better than dying all alone. I promise that I won't leave you."
Her promise was sealed with a delicate kiss to the forehead, her nose, and finally, the younger woman's lips.
Their lips danced to the rhythms of Wishing on a Star by Rose Royce.
And like that– the thick aura of emotions thinned into a soft existence of pure love and hope, clouded around the two as they made love.
Nothing else mattered. Nothing ever mattered.
— § —
"Whitney! Come in here! We have guests!" Whitney's mother, Cissy, yelled from the living room. Her brothers were out with their friends for the majority of the day, leaving Whitney with time to herself before she'd be back on the road with Chaka Khan.
Whitney dreadfully dragged herself into the living room. Looking up, she saw a bunch of strangers occupying the space that was always voluntarily empty– her mother's living room. She did happen to notice this one girl from her summer job, though.
Her face scrunched up at the amount of guests, in which her mother quickly fixed, shooting her daughter a glare. The person looked up, looking at Whitney. The two stared at each other for a while before Cissy snapped them out of their infatuation by intentionally clearing her throat. "Hey, Whitney," the girl said. "Robyn, right? You used to work in the front?" Whitney asked. Robyn nodded before saying, "Yeah, I did all the paperwork. The kiddos weren't too tough this summer, were they?"
"You two are already acquainted?" Cissy asked. "Not entirely. We crossed paths a few times at work but we worked in two different areas so I don't know much beyond her name and her job title."
"Well, these kind folk will be attending our church this Sunday and I wanted them to meet the lead vocalist." It was interesting because both Whitney and her mother were considered the voice in their church.
After a while, Cissy grew tired of company, so she respectfully hinted that they had to go. "I'd love for you all to stay but I have an evening service to attend," Cissy said. It wasn't a lie. "Well, Whitney, I'll see you around. Can't wait to hear your solo on Sunday," Robyn said before leaving. Something about Robyn had Whitney feeling some type of way.
"Nippy, I don't want you hanging around that bull dagger, you hear?" Cissy suddenly said, catching Whitney off guard. "Bull dagger? She dresses like me, mommy."
"I can hear it all up and through her voice. It's written all on her face. Stay away from her." Whitney didn't respond. She went to her room and shut the door. She spent an hour or so going over some scales Chaka wanted her to work on. Not long after, she found herself with a pen in her hand. Robyn was clouding her thoughts and she just couldn't figure out the words she wanted to write.
Giving up, she tucked her notebook in her bag.
She grabbed a few things before heading out. "I'll be back, mommy! I'm going to the park to write." That was partially true. The park had been her go-to place when she wanted to write, but today, she hoped to run into Robyn on her way there. To her luck, she found her hanging out in the park, playing Frisbee with some boys. Whitney sat on the bench and watched them.
Watching to hard, she hadn't seen the Frisbee coming at her. "Oh, shit, Whitney watch out!" Instead of the Frisbee hitting Whitney, Robyn fell on her, catching the Frisbee in the midst.
"My fault, lil mama. This Frisbee hurts a lot more than me." Whitney nervously laughed as Robyn got off of her.
"You weren't paying attention. You alright?" Robyn brushed herself off. "Yeah, I'm okay. I guess I was too focused on the game."
Robyn read right through that lie. "I don't think that's what you were focused on, but okay. You want to play?"
"Oou, Robyn flirting with the church girl!" One of the boys taunted. "You ain't got no chance, Robs!" Another boy said. Whitney rolled her eyes and focused her attention back to Robyn. "Don't mind them. They're childish. So is that a yes or no to the game?"
"I don't know how to play but I'll cheer," she responded with a smile. "Wow," Robyn replied, busting out laughing.
"Alright, well I'm Robyn, again. That's Christian. That's Derrick. And that's Ben."
"R-o-b-i-n?"
"No, it's a y instead of an i," Robyn corrected.
"Gotcha. Go play."
Whitney spent the next hour, cheering for Robyn. Truthfully, she didn't know who was winning but she did know that she was going to pay for all this yelling later.
"C'mon boys. It's time to get cleaned up so y'all can help ya daddy with the house," an older woman said, walking towards the boys. "Yes, ma'am. Bye Robyn. See you tomorrow." After the boys had left, it was just Whitney and Robyn.
"You want to learn how to play? I don't want you to get in trouble for cheering for lil ol' me." Robyn said, holding the frisbee. "What do you mean?" Whitney asked, genuinely confused. "Your mom don't want you hanging around me because I'm, what she calls, a bull dagger." Robyn gave her a fake smile.
Whitney knew her mother's words hurt her.
"I'm sorry that she's like that. Whether she likes it or not, I'm going to hang out with you."
"Rebellious, huh? I like you already."
—
"Motherfucker, you don't even know me and you talking 'bout friendship bracelets and play dates!" Whitney joked, walking to school with Robyn. "Nah, I was just bluffing, nigga. You too square to get down with me," Robyn cockily replied, adjusting her jacket. "Too square? And what's that supposed to mean?" Whitney asked, slightly offended.
"Just what it sounds like. Just admit it, Whitney. You're a 'lil ol' church girl who ain't down with nothing but the choir." Although Robyn was a senior, she didn't mind walking Whitney to her home room class. Robyn has been itching to get Whitney into some trouble.
"Girl, I'm down like Parliament." Robyn laughed at Whitney's comment. "Nah, nah. Don't ever say that again. If you're down like you say you are, meet me behind Roe's after school." She patted the younger girl's back before turning around and going to her own school.
–
Nervously, Whitney walked to the back of Roe's diner, where she met with Robyn. There was broken glass everywhere and graffiti splattered on every wall. "What are you ducking and bucking for? You acting like somebody gon' snatch you up." Whitney looked at Robyn sideways before looking around at their soundings. "Aw, you must've never been in the trenches cus this ain't even close."
"Anyways, watch me." Robyn pulled out an a piece of cloth from a duffle bag as well as a glass bottle filled with a little bit of some yellow substance. "You ever wanted to be a dragon?" Robyn asked, smirking. She poured the liquid on the cloth and stuffed it in the bottle neck a bit, leaving a little bit hanging out of it.
"Here, do the same thing," Robyn said, handing Whitney the same materials. Whitney did exactly what she saw. Now that both of them had a fire bomb, Robyn led Whitney to an area lit with a small fire. The area was significantly burned a bit as if big fires were common. The metallic structure of the building surrounding the fire made it less likely to cause damage.
Robyn pulled out two t-shirts. She came behind Whitney and asked, "Can I put this on you? It's to protect you from most of the smoke." Whitney nodded and let Robyn put the makeshift mask over her head to protect her mouth, hair, nose, and ears. Robyn did the same to herself before picking the bottles up. "Here, throw it." Whitney took the bottle from her and raised an eyebrow. "I'll go first. Aim at the fire."
Robyn threw her bottle and immediately, the fire raged upwards as the glass broke, igniting the fire with the leftover gasoline that was in the battle and on the cloth. Whitney watched in amazement. "They used this in a lot of wars, works as good as any low tier grenade, I suppose."
Whitney smiled as she felt a chill rush through her body. She threw the bottle into the raging fire, expanding it twice the size it already was, making the two step back a couple of steps. "They say fire is a symbol of rebirth. After today, who will you be?" Robyn asked. "I'll be the greatest I can possibly be. Who will you be?" Robyn thought on it for a second before saying, "I'll be the greatest love I can possibly be."
Whitney ooh'd before grabbing Robyn's arm and running back over to Roe's. They both went inside after taking off the makeshift masks and throwing them away. "Well, well, if it isn't Robyn. Who's your friend?" The owner said. "Hey, Roe. This is Whitney. Whitney, this is my favorite chef in New Jersey, Roe."
Whitney greeted Roe before sitting down with Robyn to look over the menu. Whitney ordered a huge plate of chicken Alfredo while Robyn settled with a small plate of spaghetti.
It was quiet the whole time they ate. Whitney went in on the food while Robyn watched in complete amusement. If she knew nothing at all, she knew that Whitney did not mind eating. After Whitney's plate was cleared, she leaned back, closing her eyes. "You need you a nap, huh?" Roe asked, amused at Whitney's appetite.
The two eventually left and walked to Whitney's house. Nobody would be home for another day and a half so Whitney took this opportunity to invite her friend into her house.
The two settled in Whitney's room, listening to the radio. "This is my shit!" Robyn yelled, getting up to dance to Michael Jackson's Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough.
It was now Whitney's turn to watch her friend in amusement.
"Girl, you can dance. You been on soul train?" She joked.
"I wish."
The two spent the day cracking jokes, eating, and listening to music.
By the time the streetlights flicked on, Robyn was gone, leaving Whitney alone.
She picked up her notebook and immediately started writing.
It wasn't anything in specific. She just wrote her thoughts down, which all consisted of Robyn.
"I'm taking that girl with me everywhere," she whispered to herself before laying down and going to sleep.
———