The transition from the garden's silence back into the blinding white light of the ballroom felt like stepping into a blast furnace. Joie and Alliana walked in side-by-side, not touching, yet tethered by an invisible, vibrating wire.
The brothers were waiting. Stephen stood like a monolith near the bar, his eyes tracking the way Joie's hand trembled as she smoothed her dress. Matthew and Cheska were a few feet away, their playful banter replaced by a sharp, watchful stillness. Even Pat looked uneasy, sensing the tectonic shift in the room, his hand white-knuckled as he gripped Timothy's arm.
"You look like you've been through a war," Cheska whispered, sliding two crystal glasses of neat bourbon toward them. "Drink. Both of you. Now."
Joie didn't hesitate. She threw the liquid back, the burn of the alcohol a welcome distraction from the fire in her chest. Then came another. And another. Her tolerance, built through years of late-night "clean-ups" and the clinical cold of Bangkok, was a fortress. Alliana, fueled by a mixture of adrenaline and heartbreak, matched her pace.
They stood in a circle of silence while the party roared around them—a bomb with a burning fuse, waiting for the private walls of the condo to finally detonate.
The Confession
The door to the condo hadn't even fully clicked shut before Joie slumped against it, the alcohol finally softening the rigid steel of her spine. The room was dark, save for the city lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling glass, painting the floor in shades of neon blue and bruised purple.
"I'm not her," Joie whispered, her voice cracking for the first time in years. "Alliana, look at me. The girl who caught your bag... she's a ghost. I tried to keep her alive, but they took her apart piece by piece."
Alliana stepped into her space, smelling of the bourbon and the rain-drenched jasmine from the garden. "Then tell me who is standing in front of me now. Because I'm not leaving until I see all of you."
"I am a machine, Alliana!" Joie cried out, her hands flying to her head. "I live in a world where love is a liability and empathy is a defect. Lolo didn't just pay for my school; he bought my soul. I will never be that girl again. I am stained in ways you can't even imagine."
She was shaking now, the clinical mask shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. She expected Alliana to recoil, to see the monster she had been trained to be and run for the exit.
Instead, Alliana reached out, her hands cupping Joie's face with a tenderness that felt like a holy rite.
"I don't care" Alliana said, her voice a fierce, steady anchor. "I don't care about the stains. You think I'm so fragile? I've spent three years mourning you, Joie. I've loved a memory, and I've loved a stranger tonight. I don't need you to be perfect. I just need you to be mine. If you're a weapon, then let me be the one who holds you. If you're in the dark, then I'm staying right here until my eyes adjust. I will love you no matter what version of you walks through that door."
The sob that tore out of Joie's throat was three years late. She collapsed into Alliana's arms, her forehead resting on Alliana's shoulder, finally letting the weight of the Tenorio name fall to the floor.
The Anatomy of Need
The shift from grief to desire was instantaneous, a desperate bridge built to cross the gap between them. Joie pulled back, her eyes searching Alliana's in the shadows, finding nothing but an open, aching invitation.
She kissed Alliana with a starving intensity, her mouth tasting of bourbon and salt. It was a claim—a silent vow that for one night, the world outside didn't exist. Alliana responded with a frantic hunger of her own, her fingers tangling in Joie's hair, pulling her closer until there wasn't a single breath of air between them.
Joie's hands, usually so clinical, moved with a raw, trembling heat. She found the zipper of Alliana's white dress, the sound of it sliding down like a sigh of relief. The silk fell away, leaving Alliana in the moonlight. Joie followed, her own backless dress discarded with an impatient shrug, until they were skin on skin, a collision of heat and memory.
Joie lifted her, carrying her the short distance to the bed. They fell onto the sheets, a tangle of limbs and desperate gasps. Joie moved over her, her mouth finding the sensitive curve of Alliana's neck, marking her with a soft, possessive bite.
"Joie," Alliana moaned, her back arching, her fingers digging into Joie's shoulders.
Joie moved lower, her tongue tracing the line of Alliana's collarbone before moving to the swell of her breast. She worshipped her with a slow, agonizing precision, her mouth hot and demanding. Alliana's hands were everywhere—on Joie's back, over the scar on her shoulder, pulling her down as if she wanted to pull Joie inside her soul.
Joie's fingers slid between Alliana's thighs, finding her slick and ready, her body a map Joie had never forgotten. At the first touch, Alliana's breath hitched, a sharp, broken sound that Joie swallowed with a kiss. Joie moved with a rhythmic, torturous focus, feeling the way Alliana's muscles quested for more, her internal temperature rising until the air felt like it was on fire.
"Don't stop," Alliana whispered, her voice a ragged plea. "Please, don't ever stop."
Joie didn't. She increased the pace, her thumb circling Alliana's center while her fingers worked deep inside her. Alliana's head tossed back against the pillows, her hips bucking against Joie's hand in a frantic search for release. Joie watched her, watching the way the pleasure washed over Alliana's face, turning the "Light" she loved into something incandescent.
When Alliana finally shattered, her body trembling in a long, rhythmic climax, she cried Joie's name into the dark. Joie didn't wait; she moved up, pressing her body into Alliana's, her own release coming in a sharp, blinding wave that felt like the first breath of air after drowning.
They lay there for a long time, tangled and slick with sweat, the neon city lights flickering against their skin. The silence was no longer heavy; it was a sanctuary. Joie buried her face in the crook of Alliana's neck, breathing in the scent of vanilla and rain, her heart finally beating in time with the only person who knew how to keep it alive.
For the first time in three years, Joie felt peace.