Tahlia

Her eyes were open wide, the whites showing around her marbled hazel irises. Her mouth was slightly parted, the ghost of a sigh leaving her lips, and her manicured hands were on the shoulders of a girl who was happily tucked between her legs. She wasn’t sure if it was the vodka, lime and sodas she and her friend had sculled or genuine curiosity that had led her here, but she didn’t care.

After a few more minutes, the girl made her way up her body, leaving a trail of kisses, smiling slightly as she saw Katrina’s expression. Katrina wove her hand in Emma’s hair and pulled her in for another kiss.

The pounding music from the club streamed in to meet them as someone opened the door to the bathroom, interrupting their kiss.

“I guess I’ll see you around sometime,” Emma said, turning around and opening the cubicle door. “See you around, ma chérie.”

I suppose the French really do know their way around.

Katrina walked out of the cubicle a few moments later, trying to be discreet. She saw herself reflected in the mirror, the dark green graffitied and scratched stalls behind her ever the grunge-ridden backdrop for the light blush spreading over her cheeks and the slight wobble to her stance. She tied her hair up into a loose topknot before heading out of the bathroom into the main room. The shorter French girl was nowhere to be seen, and Katrina breathed deeply, the alcohol and sweat tingling in her nose.