Page 32 of Beyond the Blues
“Angel by Finneas” Nora decides on. I smile to myself, because it’s sweet, but I never have seen myself as a very angelic person.
“What about me?” Nora responds.
“First Day of My Life by Bright Eyes” I respond, the answer almost coming to me immediately. After Coco passed, I thought I’d go be with her, because what was the point of living withouther? Then I figured it out after meeting Nora, and I am so glad I didn’t die before I met her. Not only did meeting Nora teach me what love is like, I found my happiness on this trip. Despite my family not thinking I’ll be able to do this trip, here I am, doing it perfectly. A lady interrupts us on the beach holding a basket filled with cups of fruit. Nora hands the lady a few euros and takes out a cup of mango for herself and me a cup of watermelon. I sit up and face Nora as we devour the fresh fruit. Nora has mango juice dripping from her lips, a couple drops landing
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on her shorts. I lean over to Nora and lick the juice off her lips, dragging my tongue slowly. The sweet taste of mango making her lips even sweeter than they already are, almost sickly. Nora buries her head in the crook of my neck, breathing a kiss there. Once we can pull ourselves away from each other, I continue crunching on my watermelon. I finish the pot, wiping my mouth on my shirt. Weirdly enough, spending the day in the room sharing intimate moments and silent looks of appreciation was the best way to spend our last day together.
“Fancy a swim?” Nora asks.
“I don’t have a swimsuit.” I remind her, sitting in a plain sundress. “Don’t need one.” Nora smirks, giving me that wink of hers. Nora strips
from her clothes, leaving her bare to the world. She runs towards the sea, the sports bra tan line really showing on her back. I glance around before pulling my dress over my head and running towards the sea towards Nora. I am really hoping no family takes an evening stroll right now. The warm water swallows my body and I’m face to face with Nora. Her hair dripping with the salty water. I dunk my hair under the water, leaning my head back. There’s something so soothing about having your ears under the water, the surrounding sounds become muffles, and the only thing you can hear clearly is your heart beating. I am still living. When I lift my head back up, I’m face to face with Nora. She lifts me up, wrapping my legs around her waist and my arms around her neck. The sea is glistening, similar to Nora’s eyes.
“I love you Ophelia.”
“I love you Nora.”
“I like to imagine if things were different with us.” Nora’s voice was fragile.
“What do you mean?” I tilt my head like a confused dog.
“Like, if I didn’t go to America, or you wanted to come with me. I imagine us living together, waking up next to each other most mornings. Maybe even waking up with a couple of cats by our feet.” I smile, my heart warm.
“And I’d bring you coffee in bed. Then we’d go off to work, me doing music somewhere and you writing something beautiful.” Nora lets out a deep sigh.
“I don’t know. I can just imagine all of it with you.” Nora mutters sadly. I push back Nora’s wet hair off her forehead, revealing more of her face.
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“If it’s meant to be, it will be. Whether it be in a year or twenty. We will find each other again, just like we did this holiday.” I reassure Nora. Even if I’m not one hundred percent sure we will see each other again, I’m hoping we do when the time is right. Nora pulls me closer, hugging me tighter.
Back at the hotel room, we are doing a deep dive in each other’s photo galleries on our phones. I scroll through many band photos and videos, mesmerised by Nora’s guitar playing. But also her face, how concentrated she is on her hands with the strings. That’s mostly her gallery, to be honest, just a lot of her band and her friends. Her confident, chatty self radiates even through the screen. I’m glad I got to witness the more chilled out, emotional Nora, too. When I get further to the bottom of her camera rolls, I notice an array of photos of me. Mostly candid and all hideous.
“Oh god Nora! Ew, what are these?” I laugh out loud, my finger hovering over the delete button. Nora snatches the phone out of my hand, bringing it to her chest protecting it from me.
“I think you look beautiful in every single one.” Nora said firmly, continuing to scroll through the photos of me. Then she stops on the one she took on the stairs, me laughing at her, cheeks reddened from embarrassment, but my eyes filled with a look of happiness. Nora really looks at this one, a little smile landing on her lips before changing the conversation.
“Your turn.” I hand my phone over to Nora and she scrolls through my messy camera roll. Photos of me and Coco fill the first half. Nora zooms in on a photo of me and Coco at a house party, andin the background is Nora with her friends, but her attention is on me. It slowly slips into less exciting photos of Coco’s grave, flowers, sunsets and my writing. She pauses, reading each poem and story.
“I know they’re not great but-”
“They’re brilliant, Ophelia.” Nora interrupts me. It’s hard to be a writer and be able to tell if your work is actually good or not. But then again, writing is art, and art is subjective. Nora shuts my phone off and places it on the bedside table, turning her body to face me. I turn my body to face hers as well and it’s not long till we devour each other’s lips for the last night. Nora
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makes my body feel things I don’t think it will feel again for a while. All whilst making me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. I remember Coco and I talking about how we want our future partner to be, and it hurts me to say mine is Nora.
*4 years ago *
Coco and I lay in the middle of Hyde Park, a bottle of cheap rose and an enormous pack of tortilla chips in between us. Coco stuffs a handful of tortillas in her mouth.