Silicone Sword Fighting

The sunset came as the boldest blaze with the blush of a rose petal. As if someone graffitied rainbow flame upon the sky of dark denim blue.

The orange-gold stretched far and wide, the color of a hearth full of warming fire and clementines. Scarlet and violet veins like bruises threaded through the great expanse overhead.

Its sepia-hued tones draped the suburb Emilia wandered through after her Uber dropped her off.

She wondered what the sky looked like, where Luke was. Could he see it?

He’d joked about the sun always hiding behind a robe of gray clouds in Scotland.

He said she would hate it for most of the year—except for the two sporadic weeks of sunlight and humid heat they received throughout the summer. She believed she’d love it, so long as she went with him.

That had made him flush so sweetly her mouth curled at the corners even now.

The calm street was devoid of people. She hurried her steps as she approached Mel’s house. Rows of shiny cars lined the tidy street, their paint reflecting the sunset and her as she passed.

The weather wasn’t as cold here, but winter’s determined frosted hands still stroked across her exposed, heated face and forced a shudder from her, although she had wrapped up.

Emilia’s mad dash from the airport to the store she needed and then to Mel’s had left her out of breath. Sweating beneath her pink puffy coat as she jogged up the garden path, dragging her rolling bag behind her.

The heavy object in her coat pocket slapped against her thigh as she hauled her bag over the four creaking steps onto the white-painted porch. She let it go, smoothing her hands over her hair, and straightening her spine.

She took a moment to catch her breath, fighting the impulse to laugh as she slipped her hand in her pocket, eyes scanning the house to see if anyone peeked out at her.

Mel had pulled out all the stops with her Christmas decorations.

Twinkling, rainbow lights bedazzled every inch of spare space on the whitewashed home, and helpful, vibrant signs directed Santa to their chimney.

No curtains twitched in the windows and no one yelled her name—they hadn’t spotted her yet.

Shivering as a chill breeze lifted her hair off her bare neck, she pulled her ‘weapon’ out, making sure she’d put the batteries in right. She snorted at the veiny, blue silicone cock, testing the weight of it.

She wished she’d kept Mel’s gift instead of telling Luke to get rid of it.

That would’ve saved her from buying another, but as long as she got what she wanted, it was money well spent.

Emilia hefted the new toy into her dominant hand, a less violent version of the one Mel so lovingly sent, and raised her fist to batter it on her friend’s door.

She fixed a warm, coy smile on her face, and hid the dildo behind her back as running steps sounded on the other side a second before the door swung open. Melanie grinned.

Her shiny, tight ochre curls were a soft halo around her head, amber eyes full of golden joy as they landed on Emilia. Her glossed lips and white teeth gleaming as excitement radiated from her.

“Lia! It’s about time. Get in here,” Mel exclaimed in her smooth, rich voice that could calm or hype Emilia up in the same instant.

Emilia remained silent, moving as if in slow motion as she dropped her hand to her side and winked, gripping the sex toy tighter as a giggle crawled up her throat. She tamped it down.

Her friend’s welcoming smile faltered, falling into a grimace as she clocked what Emilia carried. With a wide grin that almost showed her wisdom teeth, Emilia waved the blue vibrator at Melanie like a silicone sword.

Her best friend raised her hands in a placating motion, head shaking, and backing away from the open door.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know! And I tried to warn you not to open it!” Mel shouted as Emilia turned the fake cock on and ran, chasing her friend through the house.

The buzz in her hand was like a swarm of angry bees as their feet pounded over the hardwood floors, both shrieking and laughing.

Drake looked on, brown eyes rolling, jaw tense as he hid a laugh. Arms crossed as he leaned against the living room’s archway entry.

Emilia barely saw him, too focused on getting her revenge.

“Do you know how many times I’ve envisioned your death, dearest Melanie? I have had days to think about it. I’ve lost count!” Emilia crooned, panting as they bolted out of the small living room and clattered up the stairs.

Mel, with her much longer legs, cleared the landing, and Emilia leaped over the last two steps to catch up. The many photos of their lifelong escapades hung on the forest green walls like a too-fast slideshow in her periphery.

The narrow hall had three closed doors: Mel and Drake’s bedroom, Emilia’s temporary space, and the bathroom.

She knew where her friend would go before Mel turned towards it. Her breath roasted in her lungs, hands sweating and tingling as the vibration numbed her right palm.

Mel tried to lock herself in the bathroom, but Emilia stuck the bulbous head of her veined sword in the crack between the door and the frame before it could close.

Her triumphant cry bounced off the glossy black-painted wood and back into her ears. The rattling, twanging sound the fake cock created against the wood almost forced her to laugh.

She almost wanted to surrender and call a truce as her friend begged for forgiveness.

Almost. But not enough. She chose violence.

“I said I was sorry! Please don’t kill me with a dildo. How would you explain that? Look, we can fight and argue, but in the end, you get what you didn’t know you wanted and a fun toy to play with when he’s not around! Win-win.”

Emilia scoffed, “Nope. I want to fight! Let me hit you!”

Mel’s gasping chuckle didn’t mask the noise of something hitting the tiled floor.

Emilia braced herself for a battle more suited to a parody movie than real life.

Her heart raced, loose hair sticking to her damp forehead. Her hands trembling slightly as the droning vibration rippled against the door and it shivered in the wake.

Bergamot and sweet florals clung to the air—her friend’s signature fragrance permeated every corner of the house.

“At least let me get my own weapon! We can duel it out,” Melanie offered, and Emilia cocked her head, considering.

Absolutely not.

“No. I almost died of embarrassment. You owe me at least one good slap!” Emilia shouted, as Mel laughed uncontrollably.

“So... I won then?” Her friend said after pulling herself together, and Emilia growled through her teeth even as her own humor nearly snuck through.

She turned the vibrator off but didn’t move or let it go. Mel opened the door, a toilet brush in hand.

They faced off, Melanie struggling to smother her delight. Emilia let her shoulders slump, heaving a sigh, and nodding, her expression one of feigned sorrow.

“Yes. Fine. You won. Let me hit you over the head with this thing, and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal!”

Emilia wished she asked for more hits as the toy bounced harmlessly off her friend’s lush hair. A dull thud as it hit her skull.

Mel dissolved into a fit of giggles, and Emilia was no better. Her face ached, cheeks flushed, and limbs fizzing as the burst of adrenaline faded away.

She dropped the blue dildo on the bathroom counter beside the white sink as Melanie put her weapon away. She rubbed at her head, pretending to cringe, as if in pain.

Emilia playfully rolled her eyes.

They hugged, and Mel promised she would do it again. Emilia didn’t bother begging her not to. It would do no good.

The woman was a nightmare and a blessing all at once. Emilia only told her to watch her back next Christmas as they went downstairs.

“I told her it was a bad idea to send the note with the present,” Drake said by way of greeting as they flopped on the black velvet sofa.

His skin was darker than Mel’s by a few shades, smooth all the way to his shaved head.

His hard edged face, prominent cheekbones, and firm chin wore a bemused expression.

He was used to them by now. Knew better than to get in the middle of their animated, overly dramatized fights. He offered to fetch them drinks as they discussed all that had happened.

Her friends listened with varying degrees of amusement and shock as she relayed how Luke had pined for her long before she even noticed he was in her mind.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice you liked him! We’ve been betting on it. Drake won,” Mel said, sipping at her dry white wine as Emilia swallowed a healthy mouthful of hers.

Enjoying the slight burn as the cool, tart liquid trickled down her throat.

“Well, you could’ve filled me in! It would’ve saved so much drama. And Drake—I thought better of you! You’re not supposed to encourage her.”

Drake leaned back in his chair across from them, the TV playing quietly in the background as he said, “If it makes my life easier, I’ll support her. I have to live with her. You don’t.”

Emilia cackled at Mel’s outraged face. Her friend wasn’t silent for long.

“Excuse me, sweetheart. It was your idea to write the note!”

“You little traitor!” Emilia yelled, wine sloshing in her glass as she pointed a damning finger at Drake.

He chuckled and said, “I wanted to win the bet.”

“What did you bet on, Mel?” Emilia demanded.

Mel didn’t appear abashed in any sense of the word.

“I bet you’d realize by Valentine’s Day. He bet you’d realize before New Year.”

Emilia ignored that. Head shaking as she swerved the conversation back to the details that didn’t make her blush crimson whenever she remembered them.

Her chest infused with warmth as she spoke, memories of her and Luke locked in their snow globe bubble, playing like a movie in her mind.

She wished he was with her to tell his side.

She would love to see how he interacted with her friends and they with him—something she’d never looked forward to before and typically dreaded like a root canal at the dentist.

“You look like you slept with a coat hanger in your mouth!”

Melanie’s teasing comments about her unwavering smile and pink tint in her cheeks didn’t spoil that notion.

Emilia had done the same when her friend was dating back in their college days. It’s what friends did to show their love.

Luke seemed of a similar background, despite his preference for solitude. He’d mentioned friends he had in the neighboring city.

A jolly, brash man and his steely, solemn wife whom Emilia was dying to meet, though Luke appeared suspiciously reluctant for her to do so.

All of her memories with Luke had this tender, rose kissed glow to them. Their first proper date, a movie, then drinks at the only bar in town, had been a roaring success.

They’d acted like a pair of twittering lovebirds. Hands entwined, no matter how awkward it was to reach for a drink.

They touched under the table as they whispered and laughed, kissing furiously between each story they shared. Then later, he dropped his shyness at her door and all but tore her dress off her body.

Hands rougher and more confident as they grasped and grabbed, to her utter pleasure.

Oh, he was a multitude of beautiful contradictions, and she had yet to uncover them all. As talks turned to the humiliating gift and everything that came after, Drake left them to their girl talk.

They giggled like a pair of schoolgirls, hooting and squealing, losing track of time as they chatted.

“He didn’t know where to look when I pulled a giant fucking vibrator out. Thanks for that!”

Emilia chugged the rest of her wine, clumsy fingers reaching for the half-full bottle on the oak coffee table and refilled her glass.

She topped off Mel’s before setting it down.

“What happened after he saw it?”

Emilia hid her flushed face in her hands and shrugged. “I wanted to slide out of my skin and slip through a crack in the floor; I was so embarrassed. He just laughed and asked if I wanted to talk or forget about it. I chose to ignore the big purple gyrating dick in the room and pretend it didn’t happen.”

Mel tossed her head back and cackled like the witch she was, as Emilia pouted and narrowed her eyes to blurred slits.

Her friend soon returned to form and continued her interrogation, positively ecstatic to revel in Emilia’s discomfort.

“And the note?”

“I didn’t see the damn note until he’d already read it!” Emilia shouted, to Melanie’s glee.

“Oh, shit. Sorry! I meant it for your eyes only. How could I have predicted it would turn out that way? Actually, I’m not even sorry; it worked better than I thought. I figured it would make you think and realize you felt something. I never dreamed he was pining after you, too.”

“Neither did I. I felt so stupid, but he hid it so well, and now I’m piecing everything together in my head and can see all these little moments I never registered,” Emilia replied, smiling gently as she leaned against the plush sofa cushions and the alcohol loosened muscles and tongue.

Indeed, there were so many instances to prove his romantic feelings had always been there. Simmering under his stony surface.

Whether when he waited for her to jog across the parking lot while holding the door ajar for her. Or carrying the heaviest groceries inside her apartment.

And the time he made himself late for work to change her flat tire. Her own ever-changing world had absorbed her so completely that she hadn’t noticed.

Now it screamed at her and she hoped he felt the same from her. Felt her rapidly blooming heart whenever she was with him.

“You should be thanking me, Lia,” Mel jested, eyes twinkling impishly as she went on. “If I hadn’t sent that note, you two would’ve danced around each other until one of you moved away.”

Emilia tossed a heatless glare at her friend, but her weightless body and bright happiness softened any sharp edge it might’ve had.

She said, “Or I could’ve realized on my own and done something about it. Instead, now when we tell people the story of how we got together, all I’ll have in my head are giant vibrators and roasting shame.”

Mel was shameless, as she retorted. “Bet you’re glad I did it now, though.”

And Emilia could only laugh and nod.

Their friendship had survived their angst ridden teen years. It had survived all their petty disagreements and misadventures.

A badly timed, overpowered sex toy and crass letter couldn’t derail it now.

They had too many absurd stories left in them to create and add to the lore they already shared. 

The tales of their shared indiscretions and insanity would be told at both of their future weddings! Lovely. Embarrassing—perfect.

Next year, she would endeavor to bury Mel in a heaping, steaming pile of humiliation that would burn and burn and burn.

Oh, Emilia couldn’t wait for it!