Poached
Elizaveta in hindsight wished she would have been surprised when Laura, the beautiful blonde Waffle House waitress, walked in during rehearsals one rainy Thursday in late September. Her hair was matted down from the heavy raincoat she now peeled off of herself as she quietly took a seat in the back, and she peered curiously down at the stage. Elizaveta watched from the other entrance door, just as hopelessly entranced by her mere presence as she had been the first time she saw her.
Yes. It would have been easier for Elizaveta if she could honestly say she was surprised to see Laura there. But no, she had paved the way herself for the aspiring actress to enter her theatre production, and now here she was.
“Hey, I’m glad I caught you,” Laura said with a smile once the cast went on lunch break and Elizaveta made her presence known. “I remembered you talking about that actress that was causing trouble when I first met you, and then I - well, this is a little awkward - but I kinda overheard you and your husband talking about how she dropped out and-”
“Oh he’s not my husband,” Elizaveta interrupted, a little too eagerly. She cleared her throat, mustering a casual smile. “Sorry. Not yet. Go on.”
“Umh, yeah,” Laura smiled nervously, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “So, yeah, I was just wondering if you’re still looking for a replacement? I’d like to give it a shot. If you’ll have me.”
“Uh, yeah-” Elizaveta struggled to find the words, lost in Laura’s jade eyes. “For sure. Show me what you got.” She averted her eyes and gestured toward the stage, trying to look at anything else as the waitress strutted confidently up the stairs.
.
Yeah, Elizaveta had made this bed and now she had to lie in it. She’d met Laura only two weeks prior to first bringing Roderich there, going in for a quick late lunch on her way from the theatre and home. It had been a quiet day, well past the lunch rush, and they’d ended up talking. And so Elizaveta came back, again and again, finding excuses to get coffee from there and making space in her jammed schedule to sit down and have lunch rather than eat it on the go. She didn’t even realise what was happening until it was too late, and her idiot of a fiancé had ruined her perfect place by starting a weekly brawl with the chef. And now, a couple of weeks into working with Laura, spending long hours rehearsing extra with her, grabbing food together after a day gone late, crashing at her couch instead of making the commute back to Roderich, it was becoming evident that Elizaveta had to do something about this.
It’s just a crush, get over it, she tried telling herself. I’m engaged, for crying out loud. I’m not really interested in her like that, I couldn’t be.
“Hey, daydreamer!” Laura laughed, patting her affectionately on the forehead, demanding her attention. “I said, are you hungry?”
“Uh, no,” Elizaveta shook her head, trying to focus.
“Sure?” Laura smiled. Her mouth had such a beautiful shape, it curved exactly where it was meant to. Her skin looked as golden as her hair in the dim glow of her living room lamp. “Isn’t there anything you want?”
“Perhaps a glass of water.”
The blonde regarded her curiously for a moment before saying anything, and Elizaveta felt like she had a flashing neon sign on her forehead. It read “MY GOD I THINK YOU’RE HOT”. “Alright then.”
She disappeared to the fridge in the adjacent kitchen, and Elizaveta took a seat on the couch which she was going to spend the night on, not quite trusting her legs to keep her upright at the moment. Laura was back really soon, handing her a glass of water while sipping on her own. Elizaveta accepted it, taking a sip, trying to keep her heart rate down as Laura took a seat next to her, her knee touching Elizaveta’s thigh.
“You know, it’s funny,” Laura said, setting her glass down. “But I feel like I’d really miss the faint chlorine taste of the water here if I ever moved to a place with better water. Like, it’s disgusting, and never quite goes away with any filters, but it’s kind of home, you know?”
“Yeah,” Elizaveta agreed. “I know. I bet the suburb water will taste suspiciously good.”
Laura giggled. “Bitch please, you’ll probably have one of those fancy but kinda disgusting ice cube-makers in your fridge door, you’ll still get your cut of nasty water.”
Elizaveta snorted a laugh through a gulp of water and spilled about half of it over her t-shirt.
“Oh shit,” she mumbled, unable to keep a smile from her face, setting down her glass. “I’m such a klutz.”
Laura shot up, unable to hold the laughter from her voice. “Oh my, you can’t sleep in that. Wait, I’ll get you a new t-shirt!”
She disappeared into the bedroom, which was really only a bed hidden in the opposite end of the apartment behind an IKEA kallax shelf filled with boxes to give the space some privacy. Elizaveta stood up and began peeling her wet t-shirt off, feeling a slight shiver as her damp skin was exposed.
“Oh, uh, sorry.” Laura had emerged before her while she took her shirt off, looking at her with a look that probably matched the one on Elizaveta’s face right now. Awe, fascination, admiration. You look so pretty and I love this view. Laura remembered why she had left the room to begin with, suddenly averting her eyes and raising her hand toward Elizaveta. “Uh, here’s the shirt-”
“I think about you.” Elizaveta blurted out. Laura silenced, and looked up again, meeting her eyes, waiting for continuation. Elizaveta felt her courage slip out and pushed through it. “I… I’ve never felt like this before. And I don’t know what to do. But I can’t stop, I-”
“I like you.” Laura cut in, taking a weary step closer. The hand which held the t-shirt dropped to her side and the t-shirt was forgotten on the floor. “A lot.”
Elizaveta closed the space between them, her hand on Laura’s cheek, thumb stroking along her cheekbone. Laura’s breath hitched in her throat, her hands having found themselves along the sides of Eliza’s neck.
“May I?” Eliza breathed onto Laura’s lips, and she responded by pressing them against hers, fingers quickly tangling in Elizaveta’s hair as their kiss grew deeper, more intense, more desperate. It was like breathing fresh air after having been shut inside for a long time, and Eliza quickly grew addicted. How could she not have wanted this before? She tried to remember a time when this, entangled and lip locked with Laura, wasn’t her highest desire in the world, but as they fell back onto the couch and made swift work of getting their clothes off of their bodies and onto the floor, she simply could not recall such a time.