Unrequited Desires, L'Amant/The Lover (1992)
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derwent_fTitle: Unrequited Desires
Fandom: L'Amant/The Lover (1992)
Characters: The Young Girl, Hélène Lagonelle, Semi-canonical Female Character
Rating: T
Summary: One hot afternoon and one cool evening in the boarding house.
Notes: Fill for the prompt 'Hard and Soft' on my ladiesbingo card. Mix of book and movie canon.
CW: Per canon, contains references to an underage character having sex with an adult. Period-typical racism, ableism, and attitudes.
The old ceiling fan stands no chance against the hot dry air.
We are alone this afternoon in the boarding house. I have just finished teaching Hélène how to waltz. Now we are lying down side-by-side on the hard, dusty floor. Our chests rise and fall in a shared rhythm.
Her bosom is already that of an adult woman, full and inviting. Mine still retains certain childishness. I have already had the face and the experience of pleasure, yet some parts of my body are still catching up. It is one more contrast between us; Hélène with her body of a woman and mind of a child, me with my body still shedding its childhood trappings and mind more mature than many adult women I know.
The hard floor digs into my bones. Without generous flesh, my skin is helpless to protect me. I look at Hélène’s curves and wonders if she finds the floor as uncomfortable as I do.
I am worn out with desire. I wonder if Hélène will too, one day. If her mind will catch up with her body sometime in the future. I would like to be there when it happens.
She turns toward me then, her head pillowed in one arm. ‘Let’s do it again, before the others come back.’
Our skins are still damp with sweat. We will have to take a shower later. I get up and put the record on once more. She learns the steps slowly, but still faster than she learns the school lessons. It doesn’t make any real differences for her. Her parents will make sure to find her a husband who would appreciate her dancing and would not ask her to run their household.
From the corner of my eyes I see the lone teacher staying in the house today spying on us. It’s the half-caste young teacher who looks at us often. I pretend not to notice.
At last the girl comes back. It’s sometime after nine. The wind brings relief after the scorched day.
I saw her approaching her friend, that Lagonelle girl, who’s been waiting for her for hours in the corridor. The imbecile is the only friend she has here. They rarely talk to the other girls or even to us the teachers. But then they are the only full-blooded whites here. Everyone else is either half-caste like me or full native.
They stand there talking. The blonde must be telling her the troubles that await her. She’s supposed to come see me. I’m supposed to give her a stern talking-to. I already knew I won’t. I am helpless against her, this poor bewitching girl. It is easy to see why that man falls for her. Rumours have it that he keeps no other mistress. Before, by which I mean before he went and returned from France, he keeps several different ones at the same time.
She comes to see me then. I tell her we’re going to have to inform her mother. She says she can’t help it, but she won’t do it again, there’s no need to tell her mother. I scrutinise her face, trying to figure out what it is that make her attractive. She has a pretty face of course, but her body is thin, which everyone knows is because of her poor family. Her bosom still retains certain childishness, unlike that of Lagonelle, whose bosom is already that of an adult woman, fuller and far more inviting than mine. I can smell the soap she showered with (or perhaps he showered her?) before coming here.
Her expression doesn’t change, but I know she knows that I look at her and her friend often. I am envious of them. I remember one holiday when everyone else went in an excursion. Someone had to stay and I volunteered. The sound of music drew me upstairs. The girl was teaching Lagonelle to dance.
There’s something defiant in her, and I am reminded of the whispers about her mad family.
She’s lying, of course. She will do it again. She’ll skip school to make love to him. Why wouldn’t she? I myself would love to spend my days doing nothing but making love and being spoilt by a man who caters to my every whim. Instead here I am keeping watch over other unwanted half-castes.
I know this, but I only smile at her. I let her excuse herself.
Fandom: L'Amant/The Lover (1992)
Characters: The Young Girl, Hélène Lagonelle, Semi-canonical Female Character
Rating: T
Summary: One hot afternoon and one cool evening in the boarding house.
Notes: Fill for the prompt 'Hard and Soft' on my ladiesbingo card. Mix of book and movie canon.
CW: Per canon, contains references to an underage character having sex with an adult. Period-typical racism, ableism, and attitudes.
The old ceiling fan stands no chance against the hot dry air.
We are alone this afternoon in the boarding house. I have just finished teaching Hélène how to waltz. Now we are lying down side-by-side on the hard, dusty floor. Our chests rise and fall in a shared rhythm.
Her bosom is already that of an adult woman, full and inviting. Mine still retains certain childishness. I have already had the face and the experience of pleasure, yet some parts of my body are still catching up. It is one more contrast between us; Hélène with her body of a woman and mind of a child, me with my body still shedding its childhood trappings and mind more mature than many adult women I know.
The hard floor digs into my bones. Without generous flesh, my skin is helpless to protect me. I look at Hélène’s curves and wonders if she finds the floor as uncomfortable as I do.
I am worn out with desire. I wonder if Hélène will too, one day. If her mind will catch up with her body sometime in the future. I would like to be there when it happens.
She turns toward me then, her head pillowed in one arm. ‘Let’s do it again, before the others come back.’
Our skins are still damp with sweat. We will have to take a shower later. I get up and put the record on once more. She learns the steps slowly, but still faster than she learns the school lessons. It doesn’t make any real differences for her. Her parents will make sure to find her a husband who would appreciate her dancing and would not ask her to run their household.
From the corner of my eyes I see the lone teacher staying in the house today spying on us. It’s the half-caste young teacher who looks at us often. I pretend not to notice.
At last the girl comes back. It’s sometime after nine. The wind brings relief after the scorched day.
I saw her approaching her friend, that Lagonelle girl, who’s been waiting for her for hours in the corridor. The imbecile is the only friend she has here. They rarely talk to the other girls or even to us the teachers. But then they are the only full-blooded whites here. Everyone else is either half-caste like me or full native.
They stand there talking. The blonde must be telling her the troubles that await her. She’s supposed to come see me. I’m supposed to give her a stern talking-to. I already knew I won’t. I am helpless against her, this poor bewitching girl. It is easy to see why that man falls for her. Rumours have it that he keeps no other mistress. Before, by which I mean before he went and returned from France, he keeps several different ones at the same time.
She comes to see me then. I tell her we’re going to have to inform her mother. She says she can’t help it, but she won’t do it again, there’s no need to tell her mother. I scrutinise her face, trying to figure out what it is that make her attractive. She has a pretty face of course, but her body is thin, which everyone knows is because of her poor family. Her bosom still retains certain childishness, unlike that of Lagonelle, whose bosom is already that of an adult woman, fuller and far more inviting than mine. I can smell the soap she showered with (or perhaps he showered her?) before coming here.
Her expression doesn’t change, but I know she knows that I look at her and her friend often. I am envious of them. I remember one holiday when everyone else went in an excursion. Someone had to stay and I volunteered. The sound of music drew me upstairs. The girl was teaching Lagonelle to dance.
There’s something defiant in her, and I am reminded of the whispers about her mad family.
She’s lying, of course. She will do it again. She’ll skip school to make love to him. Why wouldn’t she? I myself would love to spend my days doing nothing but making love and being spoilt by a man who caters to my every whim. Instead here I am keeping watch over other unwanted half-castes.
I know this, but I only smile at her. I let her excuse herself.
