Even Lovers Drown

Blake wandered the backstage hallways, searching. The show over, crew members had separated into groups for showers, a buddy system invented for the sake of everyone getting where they needed on time. Saylor, Sarah, and Jenny had gone together, Davy deciding to go with Andy and the men of Say Goodbye. Davy thought the plan would work out fine, that he wouldn't have to micromanage them.

Then, Sarah and Jenny returned to the van without Saylor.

Not surprising. Late at night as it was, they were a little scatter brained. After a long day selling merch, they were ready to sleep. Blake couldn't blame them. Her own day had been a continuous stream of show prep. No time for relaxation, no time to bother Saylor again, just go, go, go. All because of a small schedule malfunction.

She hadn't even gotten the chance to text Saylor, but that was caused more by her assumption that she and Saylor weren't close enough for her to sporadically ask how her day was than the tight schedule.

The concert put them back on schedule, starting and ending on time. Despite the rush to get things together, nothing had gone wrong, aside from a few minor lighting mishaps and the ditching of Saylor.

Blake wasn't sure how she had gotten recruited by Davy to fetch Saylor, but she didn't mind. She'd get to see Saylor for a moment before leaving, possibly get the opportunity to tell her "goodnight" or end a fun conversation on a note that demanded it be completed via text. A win-win situation.

The locker room doors, labeled simply with the triangular-skirted female design, came into view. Blake pushed through them and walked past the rows of identical red lockers, not at all nervous about potentially interrupting Saylor's shower time. What was the worst thing that could happen? Blake seeing Saylor naked and a bar of soap being thrown at her head? Didn't seem too bad to her. She could handle a little bar of soap in exchange for a fantastic view.

Blake rounded the last row of lockers, prepared to barge into the showers, but stopped short. She froze in her spot, body stilling mid walking motion. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. She didn't dare move, breathe even, for fear of disrupting the sight.

Saylor, clad in a lacy black bra and matching panties, stood at one of the benches. Unaware of Blake's shameless roving eyes, she took her time stepping into her loose sweatpants and sliding them up her lightly tanned thighs, an oblivious deer waiting to be devoured.

Delicious, absolutely delicious. Perky breasts, tight stomach, and the glimpse of a perfect ass clothed in thin lace that would forever stick in Blake's mind. A scar was the only thing to mar the evenly tan skin. The light pink mark stretched the length of her side in a sloppily made line, an obvious contrast with Saylor's skin tone.

She had another one, didn't she? On her face, her cheek. A vague image of a facial scar flitted through Blake's mind. It was almost unnoticeable. She had seen the mark at least once, but overlooked it. And this scar deserved the same treatment. Nothing could be allowed to ruin the beauty before her, not even a scar that likely came from an accident.

Shirt fabric disrupted Blake's view, hiding the tanned skin and perky breasts. Blake held in her groan of protest, unwilling to give any indication that she had been watching. They may have both been women, but Blake knew her appreciation of Saylor's body would not help her gain Saylor's affection. Not yet. One day, Blake would have the gorgeous little redhead naked below her, and she would want more than just her eyes on her.

But Blake had a solid image of Saylor's body to base her fantasies on now, and that would do just fine till she could manage to make Saylor hers.

Deciding not to waste anymore time, Blake relaxed from the position she so awkwardly froze in and walked to the still unaware Saylor. Her tennis shoes were silent against the tile floor, giving no indication of her approach. Saylor didn't turn to look at her once. She sifted through her dirty clothing, her attention focused on her search. Even when Blake stopped mere feet away from her, she didn't look up from moving around her clothing in search of something too important to leave behind.

Sighing in frustration, Saylor straightened and ran a hand through her red hair. Blake caught sight of her quizzical stare focused on the clothing pile before the curtain of red hair settled back in place and covered her profile. Nothing was going to deter her focus long enough for Blake's presence to be acknowledged.

But Saylor would be freaked out if she turned her head and took notice of Blake's sudden appearance next to her. Blake could come up with a number of horror movies that used the similar actions to establish the character of the killer or ghost-possessed lead. Perhaps waiting for Saylor to look at her wasn't the best idea.

"Hey," Blake said, breaking her self-imposed silence.

Saylor whipped around to face her, startled green eyes wide. The sudden jerky movement threw off her balance, causing her to lose her footing on the water-sprinkled tile floor. She didn't catch herself, didn't regain her footing, but fell forward, her eyes squeezed shut, tense body prepped for impact.

And landed soundly against Blake's body

Blake's arms wrapped around Saylor's waist on impact, an instinctive reaction to keep her from bouncing off and falling to the hard floor below. The sporadic weight thrown on her knocked the air from her lungs, but her footing remained strong, keeping her upright. Arms wrapped tightly around her neck, a head landed on her shoulder, breasts smashed against hers, hips ground into her. All Saylor's.

An excited jolt shot to her core. Every single body part that seemed to fit so perfectly against her belonged to Saylor. The intimate position she would have normally shared with a random groupie during a quick interlude backstage was being shared with Saylor, and her mind could barely wrap around that fact.

Granted, they weren't about to partake in anymore intimate actions, but that didn't stop Blake's body from humming with happiness.

Neither moved out of the position. Saylor remained motionless against Blake, body tense. Blake made no moves to push her off or shake her from her apparent shock. This would last as long as Blake could make it last. She wouldn't do anything to cut the moment short.

Tentative, Saylor removed her head from its resting place on Blake's shoulder and met her eyes. Her body remained firm against Blake, her arms stayed tight around her neck, and their faces were close enough for Blake to see every single cutely placed freckle dotting the bridge of her nose and the light scar that stretched her across her cheek. She could easily press her lips to Saylor's, steal a kiss she so badly desired. She needed nothing more that Saylor's plump lips in that moment. No hot touches against bare skin, no whispered promises of later sexual encounters, not even Saylor's body nude against her. Only Saylor's lips and the feeling of completeness she knew would come with them. And she could have them if she leaned forward slightly.

"Um, hi," Saylor mumbled.

The sultry voice brought Blake spiraling back to reality. She couldn't kiss Saylor. No matter how close the position brought them or how badly she wanted to, there was no way she could slam their lips together. Without some sign from Saylor, she couldn't make that kind of progress in their relationship, if what they had could even be called a relationship of any kind. And she was sure those gorgeous green eyes were not giving her signs.

She was risking enough by keeping her hold on Saylor's body for so long, let alone keeping her so snuggly against her that she could feel every part of her. Risking more than that was asking for another rift in their slowly building friendship.

"Uh, sorry about that," Blake said, sliding her arms from around Saylor's waist.

Saylor released her tight hold around Blake's neck and took an awkward step from her, putting a small amount of distance between them. The wave of disappointment she felt over the loss of contact was expected. She wanted to grab Saylor by the waist, hold her close, and never have to let go.

And Saylor hadn't moved that far away. Blake had to remind herself of that. She was still close, within touching distance. A step away, that was all. She could have taken several steps away, could have put a full bench length of space between, could have pushed her away and walked out of the locker room all together. But she didn't.

"Don't worry about it," Saylor said, smiling.

A smile of reassurance, as if to say she wasn't upset? The friendly upward tug of her lips seemed like one. Hardly forced, it reached her eyes and brought light to her face. If her fingers hadn't been fiddling with the hem of her shirt, Blake would have assumed the contact they shared hadn't thrown her off at all.

"You're okay, right? No scratches, bumps, or bruises that need to be reported to Davy?" Blake asked.

"No, I'm fine." Smiling broader, she said, "Thanks for catching me."

Gratitude colored her voice. Blake hadn't done much to catch her. Really, Saylor had fallen against her. Did she think Blake would have moved out of the way and watched her fall to the tiles? Maybe on accident, but never on purpose.

"It's the least I could do for scaring the hell out of you."

"You didn't scare the hell out of me. You just..." Saylor paused. "I wasn't expecting to see you here. I thought you already took your shower."

She had. Directly after their performance, she and Sage snuck away for quick showers and snacks from the vending machine. No one noticed their brief disappearance or the chip bag-shaped lumps under their clothing, and if they did, they didn't say anything.

Saylor did notice, though. How she found out, Blake wasn't sure. She didn't recall walking past her at any point after showering. Davy must have told her for whatever reason, and Saylor happened to remember. Warmth filled Blake. Saylor remembered a portion of her schedule, remembered where she was at a given time during the day. And Blake didn't think it was for the sake of avoiding her.

"Davy wanted me to make sure you got to the van safely."

"Why? Sarah and Jenny—"

Blake cut her off. "Should be on the bus by now."

The set of merch girls were, in fact, going to spend the night on the Say Goodbye tour bus. Just for the night. Davy suggested it as way to remedy their obsession with the band. One night to show them the members of Say Goodbye were real people that didn't need to be idolized constantly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Saylor mumbled.

"They're excited teenagers." Blake shrugged. "Nothing you can do about that."

She had been in their place once, so excited to meet her favorite band nothing else mattered. Homework, chores, tests, nothing could keep her focused. And that had been because of a Meet and Greet.

"Well, we should be going then. Can't keep Davy waiting," Saylor said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, we..." Blake trailed off, her eyes catching on Saylor's wrist as her hand retreated from its task of tucking wet hair out of the way.

Gently, she grabbed the withdrawing hand and flipped it wrist up. Three light pink circles with a tinge of brown decorated her left wrist. Scars in nearly perfect circular shapes lay out in a neat triangular pattern.

Like they were purposely placed by cigarettes.

Before she could question it, Saylor pulled her hand from her grasp and mumbled a quick "I need to go. See you later." Snatching her pile of clothing from the bench, Saylor rushed out of the locker room, Blake left frozen in her spot.

What had she just seen?