They were completely unalike, as different as two beings could be while still belonging to the same species.
Everything about Erica was alien to Jules, everything about her was fascinating.
In quiet moments Jules would observe Erica, watching the way the brunette fidgeted where she was perched, the way she tapped the sole of her boot against the edge of a desk or craned her neck back, stretching it from side to side, agitated by the stillness imposed on her. She watched, completely enthralled, as Erica rubbed her hands together, trying to keep them occupied before she finally gave in and interlocked her fingers, trying to prevent the idle digits from becoming the devil’s playthings.
Jules was still, quiet, composed. Too much so, she often thought.
Erica was none of those things.
Erica was barely controlled energy. Inside of her atoms roared and screeched, they clawed and pounded, desperate to break free of a body almost too small to contain the potential within. She was constantly on edge, her body always tense; coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.
Erica was a born predator.
She didn’t walk, she prowled.
She didn’t tail suspects, she stalked them.
She was built for the hunt, and every time her hungry, piercing gray eyes captured Jules’s, adrenaline raced through the blonde; her head swam, her heart sped up and a terrible wonderful ache began to throb inside of her.
She felt mad in those moments. When Erica’s lips curved up, showing just a hint of teeth, and Jules’s hips twitched in her seat, she felt like her body was not her own, and that terrified her. She had no mechanism in place to cope with these feelings because nobody had ever affected her the way Erica did. Another person’s eyes on her had never robbed her of thought. The sight of another person had never made her skin tingle and her hands twitch from the desire to touch.
Jules never really felt in control of anything, but she never felt particularly out of control either. Erica made her feel out of control, and her inability to manage her feelings scared Jules but also thrilled her, because unlike the terrors that had plagued her for most of her life, the nervousness she felt with Erica left her light-headed and breathless with desire for more.
They were so different. Opposites in virtually every way, yet undeniably drawn together; positron and electron bumping around the same dusty office together.
Jules couldn’t explain it, but when Erica’s eyes caught hers and Erica’s lips curved up in the tender, playful way they only did when Jules was the recipient, Jules knew that she had finally found the person with whom she was meant to collide.