I drag my spoon across my plate gently, moving rice around as I stare intensely into my food. Across the table from me, another spoon clinks against another plate occasionally as my brother scrapes his spoon across his now nearly empty plate, picking at the final scraps hungrily as if he hasn’t eaten in days. In all fairness, if he really hasn’t left his room the last couple of days then he probably hasn’t.

His eyes flick up to meet mine, questioning and still just as confused. I sigh, setting down my spoon, unable to even pick up a single bite. My head swirls, still trying to digest what he’s said so far. I push my plate away, laying my head down on the table gently as I try to wrap my head around the situation.

“Um… sorry, I still don’t know your name.” It takes me a second to register that this soft and feminine voice is actually my brothers. I look up towards him and see him fidgeting in his seat, clearly as uncomfortable with the situation as I am.

My voice is quiet as I answer his question. “Taylor.”

“Taylor.” he says my name, and then says it again. “Taylor.” He looks down, deep in thought before looking up at me with a smile. “Taylor. It’s a nice name,” he says politely. I’m a little stunned by the response, absently nodding. Not that it isn’t a nice name, but the situation still feels surreal.

“You don’t remember anything?” I ask gently, watching him carefully as he responds.

“Um… No? Yes? There are, like… feelings.” He explains, setting down his spoon gently. “Like, I don’t remember your name, but you feel really warm? Does that make sense? When I came out of that room I was so confused, I had no idea what was happening. When I saw you though, I just…” He trails off. “I don’t know, you feel familiar I guess. Like I could trust you.” He mumbles, glancing up at me briefly. His eyes search my face as I can see him chewing on his lip in uncertainty. “Are you… are we…?” I perk up, nodding at him eagerly and urging him to go on. A spark of hope lights within me at the thought that something might be coming back to him. Smiling gently at my insistence, he seems to gain some confidence in his words. “Are we dating? Or, like, married? Something like that?”

My eyes go wide at the assumption, only able to stare at him for several seconds after he says that. Eventually I manage to shake myself out of my stupor, sputtering for a few seconds before shaking my head vigorously. “No, no, nope. We’re not. You’re my brother.” I say, waving my arms in front of me. He looks as if he’s been slapped by my response, his face searching my own.

“Oh.” He says, quietly. The fire of courage I’d seen dies instantly, something dark replacing it.

“Jay?” I ask, leaning forward to look closer at him.

He flinches at the name, taking a deep shuddering breath and pulling his arms up to hold his shoulders. “Don’t call me that.” He whispers breathily, his voice shifting into a lower range as he does so. He winces as he says it.

I look at him in shock, searching his features worriedly. “What? Don’t call you-” I catch myself as I see his eyes shoot up to me with a glare. I gulp down the name, forcing it away and continuing. “Why don’t you want me to call you that?” I ask gently.

For a while, he doesn’t respond. He takes some breaths to steady himself before responding at a fuller volume, his voice regaining the feminine lilt he’s been using this whole time. “It feels wrong. I don’t like it.” He says confidently.

I pause gently, considering his words and his mannerisms. I search his face, studying his expression. His eyes are even with mine, staring me down intently. He’s serious. I sit up straighter, letting out a breath as I think about his request. After a moment, I find a way to properly phrase what I want to ask. “Alright. What do you want me to call you?” I ask, watching him carefully.

He thinks for a second and I can see his eyes scanning the room as he does so. I follow his eyes, not seeing whatever he’s looking at or for. After a moment I turn my attention to him. His eyes look different than they normally do. Not physically. Physically he has the same Dark brown eyes as always, still slightly red from recent crying and with dark bags under his eyes, but there’s something different about the way he looks around the room. There’s intent behind his eyes and conviction. His gaze is intense, but soft and concerned at the same time.

Something behind his eyes clicks as I’m watching him, his gaze instantly turning to mine. I can see his intense eyes locking with mine and the moment between when he looks at me and he talks stretches just a bit. In that moment before he responds while he’s holding my gaze, I can almost feel like there’s something deeper that’s just completely different about him. The moment passes as I see his mouth open and my attention shifts immediately to what he’s saying.

“Rose. My name is Rose.” His voice is still soft and lilting, but there’s confidence I’ve never seen from him before. I scan his face and he doesn’t so much as flinch as I do so.

Or maybe it isn’t he or him.

I shift in my seat, leaning back as I look at… Rose. Really look at… them. My mind isn’t really on how they look though, I’m digesting this information and trying to think of the best way to approach this topic. Rose looks uncomfortable as I stare at them, shifting lightly and running a hand through their hair. They cringe at the action, wiping their hand on their pants in disgust.

I know some trans people of course. Friends who have transitioned, in many directions. I’m a very open lesbian, and cis as I might be, I try to be as caught up on Queer culture as I can be. This whole situation is strange though. My… sibling(?) being potentially trans is a bit of a shock and it seems like it should be a big thing, maybe even the big thing here. The amnesia seems a bit more pressing though, so I struggle to keep my face neutral and store that feeling away so I can celebrate and be surprised about it later.

I take a couple of deep breaths, staring at the ground as I try to sort my thoughts out. “So… Rose?” I look up and see Rose nod at me confidently. I nod in return and take that as a sign to continue. “Um… do you… want to use some different pronouns or something?”

Rose smiles, nodding quickly. “Um, she and her, right? Those are pronouns? I want those ones. Those ones feel right.” She says. I nod, digesting that.

“Okay, got it. You really don’t remember anything, Rose? Has anything come to mind with us talking at all?” I ask, hopeful that something, even something small might have come back.

“Nothing. Not even a little emotional cue like when I saw you,” she says dejectedly, folding her arms and shifting in her seat. I frown at that, leaning back in my seat. It really seems like this amnesia is bad.

“Rose I-” I begin, but she cuts me off, shifting uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry, but, can I go do… something?” She gets up quickly, cringing as she moves. My eyes widen as I look up at her and I can see disgust written across her face clearly. “I need… a shower. Something. I feel disgusting and nothing feels right. I just really need to do something because I can’t think straight through this horrible feeling.” Her voice cracks halfway through her talking and she adjusts mid sentence. I can hear a slight wavering in her voice. This situation must be really distressing for her.

I nod, an idea popping into my head. “Um, yeah. You can go get a shower. I don’t know, would you maybe be interested in wearing one of my dresses or something?” Her eyes light up at the suggestion. “I know that you didn’t really, I mean, before you were… before...” I drift off, not knowing a good way to say what I’m wanting to. “The option is open I guess. Makeup too if it would help you feel better.” I offer lamely. I really don’t know what, if anything, would help.

Rose steps up to me, grabbing my hands and looking up at me. She smiles wider than I’ve ever seen her smile before, both before and after this situation. “I think I’d really like that, yeah,” she says, her voice that same lilting feminine tone that she’s been using. Then she giggles. Her giggle is tinged with a bit of the rougher notes of her deeper tone, but beneath that is a very beautiful and airy sound that breaks through the rougher notes of her voice. It’s a giggle that gently kicks at that box in my head that I stored that ‘surprise at Rose being a girl’ in. I push that surprise down. She lets go of my hands and the moment passes as she hurries her way back to her room.

I leave her to gather stuff for a shower while I’m left to my own thoughts about the situation. I grab my phone from my pocket and try to do some research. After a few moments, Rose peeks her head in to look at me. “Um, where is the bathroom?” she asks.

My mind blanks slightly while looking at her before suppressing a chuckle at the situation. If it wasn't so concerning, I'm sure I'd find it funnier. I shake my head and point, “down the hall, second door to the left. Third to the left is my room. I’ll wait for you after the shower in there and we can find you something to wear.” She nods happily at me, finding her way towards the shower. I continue trying to research the situation on my phone, getting up from the couch and heading into my bedroom to get changed out of my workout clothes. I don’t have class today, I can just put on some of my more lax lounge clothes.

The gentle sound of knocking at my door pulls me away from an article I'm scrolling through aggressively. I toss my phone on the bed in frustration, flopping backwards in defeat. "Come in." I intone before covering my face with a pillow.

I hear my bedroom door click open. "Taylor?" I feel my heart skip a beat as I pull the pillow off my face at the sound of a girl in my room. I look directly at Rose as she enters and I feel a wave of complicated emotions as I realise that… That's my sister's voice. That's really what she sounds like now. I exhale softly, trying not to focus too hard on the fact that I stopped breathing for a moment in shock at hearing her voice. "Is everything okay?" She asks softly. Her tone is tender and when I glance up at her, her eyes are full of a warm concern for me.

My words die in my throat as I look at her. She's not normally that concerned about others feelings. Before… she still cared, but not like this. When Jay… Rose, found out I broke up with Sarah, she didn't offer any words. She didn't try to comfort me or talk to me. She always showed her care in actions. She made my breakfast in the morning. She made me spaghetti when she knew I really needed it. When I got home from college a couple days after, she had been waiting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and one of my favorite movies, Tokyo Drift, conveniently on pause at the beginning. She insisted that she had been planning on watching it with or without me. I knew better. She had always hated that movie, as well as pretty much any racing movie. She knew I knew better too, but she also knew that I wouldn’t look that particular gift horse in the mouth.

Rose feels completely different to how… Well, to how she used to feel.

"Taylor?" I snap out of my thoughts, finding Rose's face inches from mine, waving her hand between us to try and get my attention. That same concerned expression is written across her face.

I stumble back with my hands, trying to put some distance between us. Whoa, too close. "I'M HERE," I exclaim, falling back on my bed. I stay there for a second, catching my breath. "Sorry, sorry, I was just… Thinking."

"You looked really out of it, is everything okay?" She asks, sitting down on the bed next to me. I sigh, looking up at her. She looks away guiltily at that. "Sorry… uh, stupid question," She mutters.

"It's not that," I sit up, looking down at the floor. "Forgive me for saying this, but… You're so different. It's hard to think of you as the… Sibling I grew up with."

Rose is quiet for a moment, nodding gently at that. "I'm sorry that I can't be Jay." She whispers.

Instinctively I reach out and touch her arm, pausing as I do so. She tenses, looking at my hand and then at me, her eyes searching. I lay my hand gently against her upper arm, making sure I have her attention. "Rose… It's not like that. No matter who you are, you're my family and I'm here for you. I just… with this amnesia too, I can't help but feel like I've lost something. Someone." I explain as best as I can, looking her in the eyes as if I'll find something in there that will remind her of me. "You didn't even remember my name this morning. I'm just… I'm scared for you, Rose."

She looks away, ashamed. "I'm sorry." She whispers. I can see tears welling in her eyes and there's a sinking feeling as I watch the dam break on whatever emotions she's feeling. She starts to sob uncontrollably, her shoulders heaving as she tries to control her sobs.

Quickly I grab her with both of my arms, pulling her close and enveloping her in an almost familiar hug. She grabs onto me gently, holding onto me tightly. She feels surprisingly soft in my arms, a far cry from the firm but quick hugs that she used to give. As she holds onto me, I realize hesitantly that it's just one more thing that isn't like it was before.

That realization, on top of her own inconsolable sobbing, breaks the dam I'd carefully constructed on my feelings. I hold Rose tighter, my body shaking as I'm racked with my own sobs. Together, we cry for her, mourning in our own ways. It's emotional, messy, and loud, but it's cathartic.

Some time after we start crying, we stop. It's not dramatic, or meaningful. Slowly, the two of us just run out of tears. Rose extracts herself from my arms, wiping her eyes clear of her own tears with her sleeve. As she does so, I notice that she's wearing a long sleeve tee shirt and shorts combo. Because of the shorts, I can see that her legs are now shaved.

I clear my throat after a moment when Rose looks more collected and put together. "So, do you still wanna try on some of my clothes?" I ask gently, not wanting to break this veneer of calm she's built back up. Desperately though, I need a distraction.

She nods once. Then a second time. Before turning to me confidently and responding. "Yeah. I really would please. These clothes are uncomfortable."

I nod, getting up from my bed and opening up my closet. I step aside and gesture into the open door. "Have a look. Pull out anything that catches your eye."

She doesn’t hesitate in getting up from my bed herself, her eyes wandering over my closet carefully. I step back to let her thumb through the various options. She pauses briefly on a couple of brighter articles of clothing, occasionally pulling a dress or two out of the closet to look at it closer. She holds a sky blue dress up, showing it to me as her eyes scan it up and down. “Can I try this?” she asks politely. I nod absentmindedly, trying to turn my focus to be more on the outfit she’s choosing and not her mannerisms.

She leaves the room for a few moments to put on the dress and I press my palms against my eyes in an attempt to refocus myself. I can’t keep getting caught up on how different she is. But at the same time, how can I not?

A few moments later, the door creaks open and I look over. The dress looks beautiful on her, accentuating her waist in all the right ways. I never noticed how nice her legs look because of all the pants and sweatpants she used to wear before, but the dress is just short enough to really show off how soft and smooth her legs are. Unfortunately, I don't think any of my flats will fit her, but I imagine in my head that a nice pair of white flats would really complete the look. My eyes slowly travel up from her legs to her waist, a small amount of tummy poking out just a little at the midsection.

My eyes land on her chest, which is expectedly completely flat. Flat is cute, I can definitely get behind a flat chest. But this is my sister and I don’t need to be into her chest. I chastise myself quietly and pry my eyes upwards further, travelling up her collarbone, and past the soft clear skin of her neck and up to her face. That grounds me, her face being the same as it always has. The same sharper facial shape, the slightly longer nose, the bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. The same medium length light brown hair, completely unfashioned. The same face I've always known.

But when I look into her eyes, they're so different. They're softer, they're more active. Her eyes don't glance past me impassively, they pry at my soul and ask for a peek. I only realize I've been staring when she glances away. The trance breaks and I take in a breath of air needily like I've been deprived of air for a month.

I shake my head viciously, my face feeling hot as I turn my head aggressively to the side. I cough gently to clear my head, looking anywhere else so that she doesn’t think that I’m staring. "It looks good on you. Better than it does on me, I'll say." I need to get used to the fact that I have a sister now. It's just weird to come to terms with it all. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable with more thoughts that she’s just more different than before. Even if, very clearly, she’s so much prettier than she was before.

"Mmm," I can hear her hum. I glance over and see her wince at how deep the hum had been. Her eyes catch mine and she smiles reassuringly, more for my benefit than her own. "Can we do some makeup too? And also can I use your hair products? I wanted to style my hair earlier, but I actually don't know what's… Mine?" She winces at the awkward phrasing of the statement. "Probably not any of the stuff I want to use at least." She adds.

“Sure, sure.” I get up, gesturing towards my desk where I keep all of my makeup supplies. It’s not a fancy setup like some of my friends. I tend to keep my makeup pretty light most days.

Rose sits in the chair in front of the desk, spinning it around so she’s facing me. She sits patiently watching as I rummage through my drawers lightly to see if I have any unused makeup products. There are a few unused products, and I find that the only thing I don’t have fresh is lipstick. I curse gently, searching more thoroughly once more. Of course it would be something, wouldn’t it. “Everything okay?” she asks, her voice soft.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” With no new lipstick to be found, I sigh and instead pull out the fresh bottle of foundation and open it up. “It’s a good thing that we’re the same skin tone.” I tell her, opening a fresh pack of brushes. I turn the bottle onto its side, dotting the bristle side of the brush with foundation. “Okay, I’m gonna start applying. Careful not to move, I don’t want to poke your eye out or something.”

She begins to nod as I lean towards her, but then she realizes her mistake. “Right, sorry, no abrupt movements.” she giggles nervously, stilling for me to apply the makeup.

I grab her chin gently, readjusting her face so she’s looking up at me more. Her eyes lock on mine and I can’t help but notice that look that she has. That careful searching in her eyes that she never used to have. That alien look of hers that’s becoming all too familiar now that she’s Rose. I wonder for a moment what she sees looking into my eyes. Is there any familiarity there for her? Whatever she’s looking for, is it there?

I have to pry my eyes away from her own, reminding myself mentally that I can’t keep… comparing her. I focus instead on her cheeks and the makeup she’s asked me to apply. I apply the foundation gently across her face, dotting every section carefully. I whisper to her carefully as I’m applying the makeup, “close your eyes please, I’m going to get your eyelids too.” She closes them and I begin to brush the foundation over her eyelids gently. I continue brushing, smoothing the small dots of foundation over the entire length of her face.

I set the brush down, picking up a blending sponge and running it carefully over her face, blending evenly from her forehead all the way down to her neck. In the process of intimately acquainting myself with the shape of her face, memories of me helping previous girlfriends with their makeup come to mind. I push the thoughts away as memories of my most recent Ex start to surface.

Recalling my research, I try to distract myself from the uncomfortable memories. “I did some research while you were in the shower.” I say gently.

She doesn’t open her eyes, but she does make a curious ‘hmm?’ sound.

“There wasn’t a whole lot of helpful information, some of the sites mentioned Schizophrenia or something? It really didn’t seem all that helpful, but a couple sites mentioned the… Amnesia at least.” I pull the sponge away after feeling content in how the blending looks to get her reaction.

After a second or two with the sponge away from her face, she opens her eyes and looks at me. “And…?” Her voice is hesitant, her words heavily weighed down by worry.

I think about how best to word it, turning around and setting the sponge down and reaching for the next brush. “Well, so long as you’re not having difficulty making new memories… Everything I read said that it’ll probably fix itself with time. Some sites suggested seeing family might help.” I look at her doubtfully. “Though, if you still don’t remember me we should probably try some of the other stuff.”

She nods, closing her eyes in preparation for me to apply the next bit of makeup. ”What else did it recommend?”

I shrug, “photos, smells, music.” I begin applying concealer, using a second sponge to apply it. “Hypnotism was even mentioned.”

I pull the sponge away from her face to check my work and see a smirk just before she says, “hot.” I blink once at that comment, looking at her owlishly. She cracks one eye open to see that I’m staring at her and her face flushes a crimson so deep that it’s clearly visible past the makeup I’ve applied so far. “Sorry, um, you can ignore that.”

I nod dumbly, closing my mouth and turning back to the small stack of makeup materials. I glance at her to see her vibrant blush still visible. It’s kind of cute, but also I can’t get her comment out of my head. Is that new, or... I take that thought out back and shoot it before it can properly get anywhere, turning quickly back to the pile and setting aside the blush. I’ll skip it this time. I pull out the eyeliner, taking some steadying breaths. “Open your eyes. We’re gonna do eyeliner.” She looks at the small tube in my hand eagerly, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. She stills herself completely, focusing her eyes directly in front of her. I approach her, leaning over to apply it carefully.

I keep quiet, not wanting to mess up the application at all. Several tense moments pass as I start work on the first eye, but I pause before continuing. “Please stop looking around, just look forward. You’re making your eyes twitch and I don’t want to mess this up.” She doesn’t say anything, finally locking her eyes forward. I can tell that she’s still squirming uncomfortably in the chair, but since she doesn’t move her head I don’t chastise her. Eventually, I start on the second eye, and then in time pull away from it too. “Alright, I’m done. You can move now.”

She instantly turns her head to the side, her blush still very visible. “You’re not wearing a bra,” she says quietly, flicking me a glance from the side of her eye. My hand instantly goes to my neckline, realizing that the neckline for my lounging around shirt is quite low. So that’s why she kept looking around. And I was just leaning in front of her...

I turn back to the makeup kit abruptly, taking a few deep breaths to ground myself. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’re… Sisters? Aren’t we?” She says. I glance back at her, seeing a nervous smile on her face. Her eyes are glancing over me uneasily, searching my face for an answer.

I nod, feeling my own blush already rising in embarrassment despite myself. “Yeah. We are. You’re right.” I turn back to the pile of makeup, trying to ignore the slight embarrassment still leftover and look through it. “I don’t have any Mascara, that will have to be something you get for yourself. I don’t have any new lipstick either, but… I guess I don’t mind if we share.”

“Is it okay to share lipstick?” she asks hesitantly.

I shrug, pulling out some of the lipsticks I normally use. “Sure. I mean, if kissing a girl is sanitary then sharing lipstick must be.” She looks at me wide eyed before nodding. “Do you want to put it on, or do you need me to show you how?”

“Um… can you show me the first time?” She asks, nervously. I nod simply, looking for a good shade. I finally decide on a soft pink lipstick that I think will go well with her dress.

As I walk over to apply it for her, I can hear her muttering to herself, “right… just like kissing.” Her eyes don’t quite reach my own this time, seeming to fall just below them. She gulps down some nerves, her eyes flicking up to meet my own briefly before returning to looking in their previous position and I smile gently at that. Maybe she is still nervous about sharing this kinda stuff.

“It’ll be fine,” I reassure her gently, “pucker your lips just a bit please,” I tell her. She complies, closing her eyes as she does so. For a moment though, looking at her like this, I stop functioning properly. My first thought is how soft her lips look, but after a moment my brain continues functioning for just long enough to remind me that no, you’re not doing makeup for Sarah this time, this is your sister.

I bite my tongue roughly, using the pain to pull me out of whatever trance I’ve lost myself in. I carefully apply the lipstick, taking great care to get it right. Once I’m done, the moment has passed and I throw the bottle of lipstick into one of the drawers of my desk. I slam the drawer shut and try not to think too much about whatever I got lost thinking about just then.

“Done. We’re done. You can look in the mirror.” I say, turning back to her. She turns around quickly, her eyes darting about in the mirror. After a few moments, she giggles happily, turning her head this way and that to look at her makeup.

She hops up from the desk, hugging me tightly. “Thank you, Taylor. Thank you so much. I look like… myself? Is that weird?”

Shaking my head gently, I hug her back. “No. I don’t know if I understand, but it’s definitely not weird. You’re far from the first trans girl I know.”

“Trans?” She questions, looking into the middle distance thoughtfully. “I know what that means, I think.”

I look at her weirdly, stunned. It hadn’t occurred to me that she might not know why exactly she feels the way she feels. “You… think?”

She nods, thinking carefully. “Yeah, it’s… transgender? People whose genders don’t match whatever people thought they were at birth?” She looks down at herself. “I guess I’m trans?”

"Well, you definitely don't look like a guy anymore." I scoff.

She shrugs, smiling up at me. "Yeah, definitely not." She turns back to the mirror to look for a couple beats longer. "I think I can do my hair myself. Is it okay if I use whatever?" she asks excitedly.

"Sure. Excited to see what you do." I offer her a thumbs up and she turns herself around quickly, skipping into the bathroom.

I take another deep breath, falling back onto my bed. I throw my arm over my eyes, relaxing for a moment. Today has turned from what I had planned to be a fairly relaxed day into a very busy day. Good busy, but still busy.

I rest in my bed for a couple of minutes, listening to the strangely calming sounds of Rose humming to herself in the bathroom. Occasionally I can hear the clank of her putting down a brush, or spraying an aerosol container. The loud mechanical whirring of the blow dryer coming to life breaks above the soft din from before. It turns on and off several times before eventually, I don’t hear it come back on.

“Taylor?”

I sit up in my bed, looking in the direction her voice is coming from. Growing up with Rose, when she was Jay, I always knew what she looked like. I’ve been trying so hard not to compare her to how she was a couple of days ago, but now I can’t do anything but. My eyes falling on her with her hair properly done up takes my breath away. She’s absolutely beautiful. Rose is dainty, confident, and femme. Where Jay was rough, sharp, and dark, Rose is soft, tender, and bright.

“Fuck.” I say under my breath, gulping down a hard lump.

“You like it?” She asks softly, her eyes searching my own for any acceptance. I nod softly, looking her up and down.

“Yeah. You look stunning.” I say gently, hesitant of my own response. I can hear my own heart beating in my chest. Her smile brightens and where I’ve tried so hard not to stare before, now I can only stare. I try so hard not to compare her, but...

I really can’t help but look at Rose and think that I can’t find a hint of the old Jay in her at all. My eyes drift to her own and I can almost see the static dancing off every fiber of her being. Looking at her, I can almost feel the euphoria myself as she turns her body, looking at it. Her eyes meet mine and I can only stare at those bright and wonderful eyes of hers that Jay would never wear. Maybe Jay will come back in some part with time, and there’s definitely things we can try in terms of the lost memories... but it’s enough for me right now to know that Rose is happy.

Wistful-Shiver

First two chapters of this new story. I'll be tapping away at this at about the same rate as I did Blood and Wine, which if you haven't read yet, you should. Hope you liked what I have so far, leave a comment if you have the time and spoons please and thank you. I know it seems like I bite, but I promise I don't. Much.