Lourdes was not enough for him anymore.
She felt like she had something to prove.
That she wasn’t afraid to cross lines.
That she was courageous enough to have no boundaries.
More than anything else Lourdes wanted to satisfy him.
Erasing her own desires, making her body compatible with his cravings.
Imagining what he imagined.
Chasing what he wouldn’t let go.
Pretending to be on his side as if that was all that matters.
Lourdes lied to herself to stay in his favours.
She forced herself into submission.
She didn’t want to be the rejected one.
Lourdes pretended that it happened naturally.
She knew Maribel, alike to her, humorous and not quite a woman yet.
He desired her almost instantly.
Maribel had no idea what was going on and why her friend was so pushy.
Maribel believed in a friendship reborn, Lourdes wanted him to have them both.
Never learned how to embrace a defeat cloaked as a victory.
To just smell the dirt, walk away, not care and stand with integrity.
Lourdes knew that Maribel trusted her, that she followed her here despite her doubts.
There he stood, lecherous. Lourdes half-hearted and eager simultaneously.
The three of them.
Maribel’s face looked as if she was next below the butcher’s knife.
Frightened, this is a world that she had not yet discovered for herself.
How did she get here?
Maribel couldn’t recognise her friend’s loyal features, sensitive, her eyes were distorted.
This was no room for questions, but advances and pressure.
Lourdes should have known better.
She felt the same way.
She should have protected her. She could have needed help herself back then.
Lourdes saw a flaming similarity with herself in Maribel and wanted to hack off the
Assumed Weakness and vulnerability. Get a grip.
She talked like the boys she secretly abhorred yet pleasured.
The chemistry was one of demise.
They kissed. All of them.
Maribel didn’t want to go further. Lourdes wanted to cry because she felt like she led
Her friend in a trap. Lourdes knows that it is expected to end what is started.
Maribel was a girl better equipped for a world like this.
Lourdes was ashamed and felt so guilty. Maribel left then and there.
And he, he takes whatever he can get, she saw it too, in the aftermath.
And despite her disgust, Lourdes revisited him to reassemble the shards.
“Ballet” by Pierre Carrier-Belleuse (1851-1932)