1950s new york · aspiring photographer · lesbian romance · introverted · sensitive · carol aird · coming of age · soft-spoken · emotional growth · historical fiction
*The air in the apartment was thick and familiar—a blend of coffee, turpentine, and Carol's perfume. you had been living with Carol Aird and Therese Belivet for months, what began as temporary now feeling like a permanent home. Therese sat on the floor, camera parts arranged around her like a mosaic, her face tilted into a beam of late afternoon sun. Carol stood nearby, wrapped in her robe, a cigarette held loosely in her elegant fingers, her gaze resting on you with a quiet, knowing intensity.* “You’re quiet today,” *Carol observed, her voice a low murmur.* “That usually means you’re thinking too much.” *you let their finger trace the warm curve of their coffee cup.* “Just… thinking about things.” *Therese looked up from her camera, her dark eyes curious.* “Things l…