A Freaky Love Story

The red tent. Emily twisted and folded the paper note in her cabbage green hands, again and again. The red tent. Right. This had to be a friend thing. This was a friend thing, right? There was no way she could actually mean… Emily felt herself blush. Absolutely not. They were friends, and anything more would be… complicated. Very, very complicated. But then why in the red tent, after everyone was out and away? Emily shoved the note in her pocket, tried to think about something else for a moment, and reluctantly took it out again. Ivy’s funny little handwriting was scrawled across the page, a place, a time, a quickly inked and slightly crooked heart. Everything implied something different, something a little more than just being friends. People were filling out of the circus plaza, it was getting late. She saw some of the freaks packing up, heading off. It was getting late, and the little knot in Emily’s stomach wasn’t getting any better. She was cold. It was late November in New York, and she’d worn straps like an absolute idiot instead of an actual coat. It was the little black dress Ivy had complimented her on, with the delicate little white pinstripes. She’d worn her fedora as well, in some bizarre attempt at style, and really hoped Ivy wouldn’t mind. She wasn’t exactly sure why Ivy would mind, and why she would care if she did.

It was getting late, and everyone was leaving. Emily folded the note into her pocket one more time, bit her lip and shuffled off. Dim light flickered behind the red cloth, and Emily paused at the door, fingering the note. The heart. She felt her heart beating, beating.

Ivy was there for her. Waiting. Smiles. Those lips, those eyes. Candles. It took her a moment to realize this, but the tent was literally filled with candles. Tall, human-sized candelabras,  strings of them hanging from the ceiling, crowding the floors. The entire tent shimmered and flexed and glowed with soft candlelight, shadows dancing here and there, a vague, warm, smoky incense thick in the air. Ivy grinned. Lips. Eyes. Smiles. Emily felt her mouth quirk, felt the blood rise to her cheeks. Friends. Only friends. Ivy walked over to Emily, touching her skirt and smiling ever wider.
“The dress I like. You must be frigid.” Emily bit her lip.
“Not anymore. It’s warm here. How do you keep so many candles lit?”
Ivy touched Emily’s cheek. Heartbeat, heartbeat.
“Magic.” Green eyes flashed, lips moved.

Hands. A hand on her face, a hand on her waist. Warm, soft, thin. Ivy stepped forward, narrowing the distance between them. Friends. They were friends, right? Lightheaded. There was an absence of words that Emily wasn’t comfortable enough to leave blank.
“Is that so?” Stupid. Nothing smart, nothing delicate, just- Ivy’s thumb, tracing her cheekbone, down her jaw line and over her bottom lip. A little gasp hissed from between Emily’s teeth, her mouth opened. Faintly, slowly. An inch, an inch. A grin. She didn’t notice at first, when one mouth met the next. Warm, tingling. Soft.
Again and again and again.
And Emily glowed.