GIRL X GIRL DON'T LIKE DON'T READ!!!


liszt crawled on top of berlioz.  berlioz pushed her aside.  liszt frowned but did not stop.  that this was happening was completely absurd.  liszt was young, gorgeous, talented, a gift from god to the common rabble, a human whose body was that of venus whose brain that of all the muses (pounded to a paste in a mortar and pestle, dried in the sun, concetrated), and and and berlioz wished to beat her like she was a disobedient dog.  berlioz the short tempered, the effeminate yet tomboyish, the ugly.  the real mutt.  liszt insisted with her body

- at least let me kiss you
- i don't feel well.
- let me make it better

berlioz laid there waiting for liszt's barage of pecks to cease.  it was how one would kiss their beloved stuffed animal ; unlike how someone would kiss the object of their burning desire.  

- stop
- why...?

she continued and berlioz struck her across the face.  liszt's cheeks reddened, and berlioz felt the nape of her neck   contract in recognition of idiocy.  her face hardened and berlioz mirrored it out of instinct.  dumbly, quickly, the hand that hit her stroked her hair and held her jaw gently.  liszt laid like she'd been shot

- i'm sorry, dear, i'm so...  i'm not thinking straight

liszt's gaze was inscrutable.  berlioz wished she would go back to the gentle assaults on her ego

- liszt...
- what is it
- oh come on...  i'm sorry.  i told you to stop.

liszt smiled

- alright, hit me any time you want.  when i miss a note, how about you lash me and when i perform one of your UNSUCCESSFUL symphonies you can strangle me - 1 minute for every heckle.  
- shut up
- and when i mouth off you can replace my offending words with your

berlioz's crotch blushed at the mention

- stop that... 
- shall we put the policy in place now?

liszt shifted to be on top of berlioz.  her hair tickled berlioz's skin.  it felt how a fly might feel in the grip of a jumping spider

- don't say it like it's a punishment...
- you don't like it when i kiss you.
- no, no, i do
- make up your mind!

berlioz lurched forward to make their lips meet.  liszt arched back.  berlioz, for a second, was kissing the air.  she hid her face in her hands.  

- (muffled.) why do you torture me?
- oh, *I* torture you
- torture!  what do you know about it?

liszt gave up on her straddle and dropped herself in the spot next to berlioz.  

- *what do i know?*  finally, you asked!
- (dropping her hands from her face, incredulous, hurt) i... there is nobody dearer, nobody who cares more about your affairs than i
- i must keep bad company.
- ...i agree.
- you...  what have i done?  why don't you...  do you not love me?
- what makes you think--- if i didn't love you, i would not be here with you.
- what do you like about me?

berlioz grimaced.

- well...  you're a very pretty girl.
- i'm leaving!!!  i'm leaving you now!!!
- (oh, don't!)

rolling over and sitting up, liszt gathered her clothes.  her silhouette was tall and gorgeous in front of the window.  the light from the oil lamp made her look like an angel that had given up.

- if i wanted somebody to tell me i was pretty, i'd get any man on the street!  any *woman*!
- (stuttering.) w---ell, don't be ridiculous---
- ridiculous?!
- no, jus--t, come to your senses! (stupidly, quickly) what do you like about *me*?
- i LIKE YOU, is that not enough?  (now halfway dressed) musicians are so...!
- there's nothing!  absolutely nothing to like!  you damn virtuoso!  of course you play piano!  of course you began young!  of course the public loves you, you whore!  no wonder you believe in god!  
- what does any of that have to do with this?  if only i could perform to my personal taste and have people lap it up!  you have no idea what a pain it is to be the people's jester. (she's leaning on the bed with both her hands.  she's ready to climb on)
- at least the people love you!
- it's terrifying!  (she grabbed berlioz by the shoulders.)  girls and boys following you around --- trying to touch your hair, your clothes, your soul...  it's not love; it's mania!  the performer up there is me, but they will never see me in my entirety due to their own...  (she let berlioz go.) you yourself have your obsessions.  from it, you've created the symphony that drew me to you.  (berlioz's face softened) i don't know why i thought you'd understand.  your heart isn't even with me.

pause

- (quietly) that's not true.  i love you very, very much.
- i'm pleasing to the eye for the time being.  i will age.
- (taking her hands) you're beautiful.  your soul is beautiful, and it will only become more beautiful.  i don't know why you're with me.
- you're---
- you're skilled, you're gorgeous, you are kind... you can have anyone you choose.  you *do* have anyone you choose.  i don't understand why i'm one of them

liszt considered her response.  praise would never be enough.  it would never be believed; the public disagreed with her taste.  bringing up her other lovers would only wound her further.  she settled on the truth.

- i don't quite understand either.  that's how love is.
- people fall out of love.
- i thought you fell out of love with me today.
- i didn't... 

to be continued... i need GAY SEX soon i'm fiending.


Created 29 April 2025
Last updated 3 May 2025