Title: Consequence
Author: Misty Flores
email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com

Teaser: A window into Marina

--

Marina Ferrer defined her life quite simply. There were simply the things she knew, and those she would know eventually.

Her mother had been likened to a Grecian Goddess, the belle of her blue-blooded family, ancestry traced from generation to generation, plotted on a chart to remind them of the paths that were taken. Certain detours were almost necessary, she had been told, such as the French revolution, the near genocide of the aristocrats that 'thinned the herd'. Her father's words, really - a well bred man who lived in his books and demanded she speak in English at the dinner table on Thursdays, Italian on Fridays.

She supposed she was lucky, to live with a family she barely knew, a father's who's thirst for knowledge nearly outgrew his love for his family. A mother who's beauty became tainted with bitterness, laughing eyes growing cold with paranoia of what the family would think should they ever begin to suspect of Marina's true desires.

She had not gone the way they had expected. Her little roadmap her mother had so carefully planned out, lay unused, dismantled to pieces the first night her mother found her with another daughter of another family much like hers.

It was declared a phase, nearly chic for the day and age, for Marina was considered beautiful, exotic even in her country, and her mother took pride in showing her off. She was her perfect prize, and sexual exploration with another woman, was never intended to be longterm.

Surprisingly, it was her father who understood. He loved his Marina, little goddess of the sea, took delight in the fact she had inherited his thirst for books, love of knowledge. "Your mother's beauty", he told her, fingers trailing her cheek, "is nothing compared to the beauty of the knowledge in your eyes."

He had given her books of Sapphos, attempted to help her understand what her mother forbid she even think of, and once again, she knew she was blessed. He cared of nothing but the reputation of intelligence, the seasoned taste of culture, the makings of a person, and the passions of the soul.

And her life became defined by those things she knew, and that which she did not know. She was unprepared for her mother's betrayal, for the whispered pleas to not embarrass the family further, for her father's own retractions of his beliefs by yielding to her mother's whims.

"Go, Marina," he had whispered, a credit card pressing into her palm, tears staining his voice, "And discover what I have only dreamed of. Should you stay, you would only be shackled by the constraints of your mother's society."

It was how the cultured, exotic Marina Ferrer ended up in West Hollywood, a modern day Bohemian rhapsody, a blended taste of cultures and spirits, merging together in her little café. Here, there was so much to be discovered, so much to learn, and Marina never felt out of her element, never felt uncontrolled. It seemed, even to those who worked for her, considered her friends, that Marina was not of this world, not quite human enough to blend with the others.

There was one who said she was lonely, and Marina allowed the thought. Her father had visited once, but even he seemed a relic in this new world, in awe of her own bravery, to enthralled with her courage to consider her an equal.

Her intimidation did not come without it's perks. She was used to getting what she wanted - there was never an impossible way, there was simply a means to an end. Patience was a virtue, and through her books she learned much about watching, waiting, understanding human nature and manipulating it so emotions flooded through her fingers, running the course she desired.

She lived her life by the things she did know, and the things she did not know, easily defined, and waiting to be explored.

It was for that reason, she supposed, that Jenny frightened her. Why it was easy to allow the girl to dictate her whims, profess her love for her fiance, and plead with her eyes for Marina to fight for her, to take her the way she had taken her the night they had met.

What had been a conquest had become a trial, a myriad of emotions that seemed to cut Marina into he soul, because she did not understand why the girl had such a spell over her. There was no good that would come out of this - yes, Jenny's mind and body were beautiful, pleasing, unnaturally bright in a world where Marina had considered herself alone in her pursuits, but was it worth the risk?

Bette's accusing eyes had nearly angered her, and that frustrated her. The need to defend her actions was almost overwhelming, as her own control was slipping beyond her fingertips.

She had done everything she asked, been prepared to walk away from an affair that would more than likely destroy them all. Marina always got what she wanted, and she had convinced herself, more than once, that she simply did not want this. An inexperienced girl who would blame all of this on her, as if Marina had placed a spell over her and led her to her bed in a trance.

Indeed, she was bewitched, there could be no other explanation. What Marina thought she knew, she did not know at all. She did not know Jenny, did not understand how she could speak of her fiance, and suddenly lay herself bare before her, asking for Marina's possession.

Jenny stood in her office, a paradigm of uncertainty, half naked and pleading to be taken.

And Marina was stuck in her world, her definitions. She knew what she should do. She knew that this, whatever feelings this girl inspired, was not worth the trouble it would cause her. She knew that passion would break everyone involved.

It was what she knew.

What she did not know, was why she laughed. Exasperation and relief, and feelings she could not define swept through her, and she lost her control, because she did not know anything, it seemed.

Marina was as much of a fool as her mother, too swept away by constraint and tradition to live her life, Marina too caught up her in freedom to be reigned in my constraint.

Perhaps her father would have approved, because she lived to be free, and she never knew where it took her.

But her control was beyond her, and her life, no longer simple.

When she hugged her, in her arms she held a fragile girl who, for no explicable reason, held more power over her than any person she had ever encountered.

Marina Ferrer defined her life quite simply. There were simply the things she knew, and those she would know eventually.

Marina knew this would break her.

But when Jenny kissed her, the consequences of this constraint no longer seemed to matter.

And perhaps the most fearful realization of all, swallowed in this little lover's arms, she did not want to know.

She didn't ever want to know.

fin