We lay there quietly after Top’s review. She gave the key-features lacking, early access version of me a seven out of ten. “Yeah, that tracks, you don’t have tits for me to play with yet,” Violet comments after I convey Top’s message. It surprises me little that Top went for that comparison.
“And the publisher hasn’t given the devs the budget to patch in a pussy.” Violet puts her hand just above my crotch as I say so.
“Maybe some other publisher should buy the smaller one out and give the developers said budget.” Violet gags. “Eugh, you made me sound like a nerd. You better kiss it better.” A quick peck on the cheek for the jock.
Meow. “It was the best she could think of.” I pause, processing what Violet just said. “Wait, are you-”
“Offering to pay for your transition care? You bet your extremely fuckable ass.”
I short circuit. A girl I’ve met and gotten to know not even a full eighteen hours ago is offering to cover my GRS out of the goodness of her heart. A wish fulfillment of unbelievable proportions. An opportunity literally nobody gets, because rich people do not donate to trans women’s GRS funds, they donate to Indiegogos for shows that become scams by accident because bank account-less teens set it up with an older relative’s account and the relative runs off with the money.
Something so fundamentally necessary for the mental health of many that only a few ever manage to get. All I can think to ask is “Why?”
Violet stares at the ceiling after my question. I can see the start of a snarky response on her lips, once, twice, three times. With a sigh, she begins speaking. “Because you’re the only one on campus I can knot.”
“Listen, I follow some kinky furries on Twitter if you want options-”
“Not what I mean.” She’s looking away, avoiding eye contact as best she can. “I don’t have anyone I’m close with. I don’t let them. Out of the flower names I could have picked, Rose would have been more appropriate.” She gets up, bracing herself against the wall. “I’m a snarky, sarcastic bitch to keep people away. It fucking sucks to be fae sometimes. Sure, the magic rocks, but I can never get close with people. I can never show them all of me. I can never be honest.”
“What queer person can be?” Top echoes my sentiment with a meow.
“Right.” Her laugh is pained, sad, I fully expect it to bite my arm off. “You’re literally the first person I’ve ever met I can truly be myself around.” Violet faces me at last, her eyes sparking with tears that are ready to flow. “I don’t have to watch my back around you. I can finally trust someone.”
I get up and embrace her. “Same. Except differently.”
“Oh good, Second Base.” I blow a raspberry on her shoulder as punishment. “Do I have to teach you how to give hickeys?”
“God, shut your thorny mouth for once, I’m trying to keep the moment going.” I hold her hand and pull her towards the bed, sitting down. “I’ve never had a home.” I clench my fist, Top skitters off and comes back with the mom ball. “Thanks, Top.”
Picking it up, I show it to Violet. “Up until I had to graduate high school, up until I moved here, dear old Mother bounced us around more than this ball does. I could never get close to someone, because I never knew when I’d have to leave them.” I bounce the ball on the ground, catching it, partly to ground myself, partly to get the frustration out as I talk.
“I never learned how to build connections because of it. How do you act at birthday parties?” Bounce.
“How do you talk to people?” Bounce.
“How do you ask for help?” Bounce.
“How do you get close enough,” bounce “get to trust someone enough,” bounce “that you know you can come out and be yourself around them?”
I clench the ball hard, looking into Violet’s eyes, mine filled like hers with barely held-back tears. “If you hadn’t forced yourself into my life yesterday, I don’t know how I would have kept going. And I’m still scared.” I shiver, holding onto my arms. “Still scared that I’ll lose you. Lose you like I lost Liz.”
“H-How would you lose Violet like me?” Liz stands in the doorframe, her expression a mix of confusion of shock.
“Liz!” I scramble to get a blanket over myself and Violet, who pushes her part onto me. “How, how did you get in? The door’s locked!”
“What did you mean, lose her like me?” Liz is trembling, I can almost see through the tips of her fingers, the fine mist coming off of her is more pronounced. “I’m, I’m right here, aren’t I? And we’ve, we’ve only really hung out today. You haven’t had a chance to lose me.”
I gulp. I knew this moment would come, I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever, the best I can do is try to ease her into it. Violet is quiet in all this, her expression that of concern, and Top is doing her best to calm her fur down. “Liz, answer something for me first. The door was locked. How did you get in?”
“Well I...well I...I… walked. Through.” Her eyes widen in fear. “How did I walk through a door? How did I-” Liz is on the floor, clutching her head, rocking back and forth, her breathing ragged.
I jump off the bed, blanket around me, and I kneel in front of her, hand extended but not touching. “Hey, Liz, hey, breathe, breathe, in and out, in and out, you’re safe now, you’re safe here. Nobody can hurt you anymore”
“What do you mean ‘Anymore’?!”
Violet sighs. “You’ve been pushing up daisies for a week.” She says, and Liz stops, looking between the two of us.
“What?” Expressions and euphemisms can be hard for autistic people if they’re hearing them for the first time.
“You died. The cops listed it as a suicide, but it wasn’t.” I breathe in, this is it, I’m about to lose one of the few connections I’ve made. “The Tau Eta Epsilon girls staged a murder as a suicide. And I know because… because I was possessing you as they did it. In the abandoned dorm.”
Liz shakes her head in disbelief, her lip trembling, her eyes focused on me. I want to explain why I did it, but what’s the point? It would just be an excuse. I had no right to possess her like I did.
Calling Liz’s next moves storming off doesn’t begin to cover it. She floats up just enough to be upright, and then flies off, right out of my apartment through the door. “Liz!” I call out to her, scrambling to get dressed as fast as I can, not even thinking about what I’m throwing on. I hate that I’m sprinting this route twice.
Idiot. Idiot. Of course she’d run off in fear. What sane person wouldn’t? Good job, you’re going to die alone, abandoned by anyone who could get close to you, left behind by people growing past you, moving on with their lives while you’re stuck, stagnant, like a puddle of piss next to a tree. I wonder if they’ll throw me on the pyre as a faggot or tie me to the stake as a witch.
I do not pay attention as I run, but the problem with running after a girl during daylight instead of at night is that you can meet people. Especially those you wouldn’t want to meet. I fall on my ass, bouncing off of the figure that stands in my way. The one I had done my best to avoid for a month and a half. The one that had made my last six months of high school hell. Richard Bought. Dick Butt. “Finally showing your true colors, Kouzelna?”
“Yeah, here’s my formal resignation to maleness, I’m not going to keep pretending to share genders with you.” I start getting up, but he pushes me down.
“We both know that’s not how that works.” I notice he’s not alone. The Tau Eta Epsilon sorority prez is leaning on him.
“Pretty sure a sports scholarship and a business major doesn’t make you an expert on gender. Now why don’t you go bury a sexual assault case, I’m busy.” I stand up, only to feel first the impact of a fist on my cheek, and then myself hitting the ground.
“Your clients can wait. I’m sure they will appreciate you being unable to bite their cocks off.” Dick cracks his knuckles and his neck. Well, Violet, Top, it was nice knowing you. Liz, I’ll join you soon. What a joke, that two queers on campus will share an afterlife at the hands of the same couple.
I'm sorry you are feeling burnt out. I enjoy your writing, but not at the expense of your mental health. I know being burnt out is exhausting so I hope you are able to take time for yourself away from the stress.
See that's the thing, I've been burnt out for so long it's become my normal, and I miss writing and want to get back to it, I'm pretty sure it would help with stress if I had that outlet again, but alas.
@Katie-the-Angel-Witch What if you wrote just for yourself and no one else?
Girl, take all the time you need.
Thanks for the chapter :)