[Mature] It Takes Courage (Kit)

[Shae]

Bethas 21, 2719, Late Morning
Kit & Shae’s Apartment, Old Rose Harbor

.

It was a time of day that many working people—those that worked during the day—would probably consider late, and which Shae would ordinarily have considered too early, even though it wasn’t far off noon. They weren’t even newly awakened, despite still being in bed, hiding away in their room because they were doing some deep thinking. It was the kind of thinking that they’d been doing for almost a house, since they’d awoken, and it seemed to be reaching a boiling point, enough that they were actually contemplating taking some action rather than merely thinking about it.

They had been allowing things to stew for close to two weeks now, and Kit hadn’t pushed them for information about anything, even though he would have been justified in seeking answers—demanding them in fact. Instead, he had given them space, both metaphorically and literally, as they actually had a room of their own in this new apartment; the raen had never had their own room before. Once again, they had fallen into the pattern of Shae having things going on—rather obviously going on—while they remained mum about it, while expecting Kit to just deal with it. Poor, suffering Kit who had to deal with their chroveshit while getting nothing in return.

Well, not exactly nothing, but he hadn’t been getting much of that from them of late. The youth had certainly been more reserved since their return, almost on their best behaviour, willing to do whatever was necessary to keep him happy, which was frankly the only reason that they’d had any sort of sexual activity. Although, things had been far more restrained between them in that regard, and the musician might have thought all manner of things from their stiff manner. The poor man probably thought that he was the problem and it wasn’t at all fair that they hadn’t explained anything that was going on with them right now, and that was without mentioning Peregrine Gillespie, which was a whole other matter. Shae wasn’t ready to talk about him yet, least of all because the man was linked to their state of being as a raen.

The former wick had every intention of making a change this morning though, ready to grasp their field and cast as they said. Actually that was currently a rather unfortunate turn of phrase considering that they couldn’t do that in light of whatever the fuck was going on with their field, but speaking purely metaphorically…

Gods, were they already trying to tell themself that they couldn’t do this before they began? They couldn’t be so negative just because of one common phrase—a stupid, magic-oriented phrase at that! Humans and passives couldn’t say that sort of thing so perhaps they should find out what they said instead.

Or you could try fixing whatever’s going on with your field, they pointed out, the mona in the porven thing buzzing in what might have been a reflection of their own displeasure, but they buzzed like that a lot—how were they supposed to tell the difference?

One thing at a time. It’s more important that you explain some things to Kit, they reminded themself. It should also be easier than rectifying whatever was wrong with their—well, Cordelia’s—field, at least in theory.

All they had to do was step outside of their room.

While he was trying to be quiet, it was obvious that the galdor was rattling around out there, newly emerged from his room although he might have been awake for Alioe knew how long and just not arisen, as Shae had been doing, but somehow they didn’t think so.

Leaving the warmth of their bedclothes, the raen dressed hastily, still somewhat amazed by the differences of this new body of theirs, so much more compact, far less easily overbalanced and yet their clumsiness had managed to follow them from their prior, gangly form. Wriggling their feet into their shoes, they bounded energetically into their common living space.

Well, they tried to bound into the next room energetically, but succeeded in pulling open the door a little too enthusiastically so that the handle slipped from their grasp and the wooden portal rebounded off their arm and shoulder. As such, they ended up swearing and wincing as they extricated themself from their door, massaging their injuries as they approached Kit.

"Morning! I was going to say ‘good’ but that was before I accidentally picked a fight with the door and it kicked my erse," they explained, unable to stop themself from smiling as they said it though. They rested a hand on his arm for balance as they stretched up to kiss his cheek. Their lips tingled from grazing the prickle of stubble on his face, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, Shae touching their lips as they drew back.

“I could do with some tea and I can sort it myself. Don’t worry, I’m not going to scald myself or anything,” they added quickly, before he could make some comment about their habitual clumsiness, “I draw a line when it comes to fighting with the kettle.”

They were trying to be funny, but they were nervous as hell, unable to stop a shrill sort of giggle escaping them. They busied themself with tea things, doing their best to focus on that so that they wouldn’t risk catching his eye.

“Kit? I actually wanted to talk to you about… stuff. You know, things that have been happening between us… recently.”

Oh yes, this was going very well. It didn’t sound vague or anything.

“We’re meant to be communicating better and that isn’t… well I haven’t– That isn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have to interrogate me just to find out what’s going on in my head, especially when it comes to stuff… with us.”

There was only so much fiddling with tea leaves and sugar that they could do, only so long that they could avoid looking at the galdor as Shae waited for the water to come to a boil.

“I don’t know what to say—where to start. I suppose that you could ask me things and if I’m not comfortable with it, I won’t answer but I really want… I really want to tell you things, Kit,” they finished in a whisper.

They’d passed control over to him, put this back onto the musician but they honestly didn’t know where to start; there were just so many things.

“Do you… want to know where I went after I left? What I… what I did?”

They couldn’t help but wince at the last part, gazing up at him with an expression of guilt, shame and pain.

[Kit]

21st Bethas 2719 | Morning
Kit and Shae’s Apartment | Old Rose

It had been such a whirlwind, from suggesting the move to actually finding a new flat, and Kit had been somewhat surprised at Shae’s willingness to simply… go along with it. He kept expecting pushback, opinions… something… and eventually realised that they didn’t care. They were going to have a roof over their head with someone who was fond of them, and that was all they needed.

Never mind that said someone was growing increasingly, uncomfortably fond of the diminutive person. Never mind that his day didn’t truly begin until their bright smile lit it up. Never mind that he’d taken shifts three days a week hauling stinking fish off a boat at the crack of fucking dawn because busking didn’t actually bring in enough coin to pay for their new place.

Never mind that he hadn’t told them any of that. Never mind that he had no intention to.

He had just settled down with a cup of tea, hair still wet from scrubbing away the stench of the docks- Shae had mentioned it once, teasing. Red-faced, he’d mumbled something about falling in the harbour, and gone and bought better quality soap.

The lanky galdor sprawled in the threadbare armchair that had come with the place, hugging his mug of tea to his chest, head tipped back, took one long, deep breath, and promptly dozed off.

He awoke to the sound of an open window banging in a stiff breeze, and shivered, showering the front of his shirt with a spray of cold tea.

“Fuck.” Holding the dripping mug away from himself with one hand, and plucking helplessly at the clammy fabric with the other, Kit levered himself awkwardly from the armchair, padding in stockinged feet to the kitchen, still a little groggy.

He tipped the tea down the sink, shaking lingering drops from the mug, and set it down on the worktop, leaning over to snatch at the clattering window before a pane broke. Straightening, he heard a soft thud from the other bedroom, and smiled to himself.

A moment later, the door to the Shae’s cosy little sanctuary burst open unceremoniously, and the dark haired youth exploded out rather dramatically.

“Well, it is a very cute erse, you can hardly blame the door for wanting a piece of the action. Morning, darling.” Kit smiled warmly as they stretched up to brush a kiss to his cheek, and dropped one of his own on their dark hair in return.

At the mention of tea, he nudged his own mug over to them. “Be a sweetheart and make me another while you’re at it? I did battle with my own inanimate object just now and I’m heartily ashamed of the waste.” The galdor gestured wryly at his own shirt front, popping a couple of buttons to drag it over his head as he leaned on the edge of the sturdy sink. He’d just pulled his head free, auburn curls dishevelled, balling up the stained garment to toss in the corner with the rest of their laundry, when he heard the tone of their voice, the one that meant they were trying to steel themself to have an important conversation.

“Of course. Uh… this sounds serious. Keep talking, I’m listening,” he assured them as he darted into his own room to rifle frantically through his clothes chest for just one marginally clean shirt. Door left open, he could hear the fear in their voice and swore at himself for the timing. He’d hoped this was coming, but had started to wonder if they were trying to pretend nothing had ever gone wrong, that he’d never turned his anger on them, that he’d never made them run from him despite barely being able to walk.

“...but I really want… I really want to tell you things, Kit”

As he walked back into the little kitchen, buttoning his shirt, Shae sounded so terrified that his heart hurt, and without even thinking he raised one gentle hand to cup their cheek.

“Dear heart, I’m not going anywhere. I know it’s hard to talk, but I’m not going to judge you for anything. Gods, if anything I should be the one on trial for the way I behaved.”

The sunlight filtering in through the alleyway outside was oddly harsh and cold, and it hit all the planes of Shae’s face, normally so soft and smiling, and caught the darkness around their eyes, the hollows of their cheeks, their skin like marble against the sun-worn brown of his own hand.

“Do you… want to know where I went after I left? What I… what I did?”

He inhaled sharply at that, suddenly very, very worried.

“Darling...Shae, you… what could you possibly have done that has you so upset?”

He blinked, realising that he hadn’t actually answered their question, and continued softly, blue eyes holding tearful grey.

“If you want to tell me, I would like to know.”

...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...

[Shae]

Bethas 21, 2719, Late Morning
Kit & Shae’s Apartment, Old Rose Harbor

.

His smart remark earned a raised eyebrow and the dance of a smirk on the raen‘s lips but no comment; was a cute erse. Of course they’d checked, in fact scrutinising their form more intensively than they had ever done with the body to which they’d originally been born. They were surprised that Kit asked them to make tea though, his own mishap having gone unnoticed, even though the evidence was unmissable now that he’d drawn their attention to it. They’d simply been too absorbed in—

Their self.

— Well, too absorbed in everything really.

Having failed to see what was directly in front of them didn’t improve their sense of dread, or the general misery that clung to them and had managed to burrow its way into their very marrow—Cordelia’s marrow; being dead really was not a topic of conversation for today.

If the former wick hadn’t caught a glimpse of him pulling off his shirt, they might have thought that Kit was the one running away for a change—in spite of his words. Knowing that he’d only gone into his room, knowing that they still had the galdor’s full attention didn’t make their words flow any easier or make them any less reluctant to look at him. Honestly, if he hadn’t reappeared and cupped their face, the raen didn’t know that they could have held their gaze on him at all when the time came.

"No, it wasn’t your fault, I started it," they whispered, teeth catching their wobbling lip for a moment. “I w-w-wasn’t exactly kind.”

Their argument had become a surreal recollection for Shae, actions and words only existing in bits and pieces, provided in almost feverish flashes of memory alongside the horrible sensation of their borrowed shell bucking under their control as it rebelled against the strain under which it had been placed. Unfortunately, they could recall enough of their childish—but nevertheless cutting—outbursts. Not to mention that they’d seared some words into their very soul as they’d slunk off in shame and misery and unimaginable regret.

In truth, it had been exceptionally ugly on both sides.

“This isn’t about that though, w-what we said to each other—though I am sorry. I’m so very sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Their grey gaze dipped, their face still held tenderly by the galdor, shame welling up hot and splashing a droplet on their cheek as they wrestled with everything.

Kit didn’t know what they’d done. What they’d allowed to happen. It was all well and good saying that he didn’t care when he didn’t actually know what pained them; his platitudes meant nothing.

“I don’t think you would.”

It was a mumble, barely articulated as if failing to hear them would somehow improve the situation. They sucked in a deep breath, steeling their self for the explanation that would have to come next, which in typical Shae fashion managed to get off to a rather auspicious start…

“You know how I’m stupid?” they began, wincing immediately. “I mean, h-how I don’t mean to do- I miss things and then things happen because didn’t see the obvious and- I was hungry and I didn’t realise- It was my fault, I misunderstood and then I let it-”

Too many pieces of information tried to come tumbling out at once, all while the raen shied away from the inconvenient facts about what had transpired. Okay, it had been less inconvenient and more horrifying—traumatising, in fact.

“You warned me!” Shae wailed, voice shrill and clogged with tears—when had they begun crying in earnest?

“You w-warned me what could h-happen and I- I thought he was being nice!”

Their hands crept up, trying to shield their face from Kit’s view while sobs began to wrack their diminutive frame. They didn’t think that they’d had so many tears left to cry over this, but it felt as if they’d just uncorked an ocean.

“I d-didn’t know- The money- B-b-but I needed it!”

[Kit]

21st Bethas 2719 | Morning
Kit and Shae’s Apartment | Old Rose

Shae was falling apart in front of him, and his heart broke a little more with every self deprecating sob.

The galdor's expression clearly betrayed his feelings when they described themself as stupid, because they winced and tried to explain. It took a while, and they became more and more distressed with every word until they broke down completely.

Kit sighed, pulling the youth into his chest.

“Breathe, love. I’ve got you.”

He wrapped long arms around their shaking form, tucking their dark head under his chin where they fit so neatly. Holding them there, he played their broken words over in his head, round and round until they began to form some sort of sense.

It took a few minutes as he murmured soothing nothings and rubbed a firm hand on Shae's back in some futile attempt to ground them, but when it clicked into place, Kit found himself very glad that they couldn't see his face.

...I'm going to kill him… I'm going to find that man and pound his head into the fucking pavement…

He knew what Shae was like when they were upset. How they drifted, how they put bright smiles on but you could see in their eyes that they were lost and scrambling for purchase on something, anything to lock them into the here and now. Bizarrely, he could draw parallels with his own self destructive behaviour, but the galdor always knew exactly what he was doing.

He should have known.

...I did this…

And as he held the fragile, shaking form that in turn held such a bright, shining soul, words began to fall out that he had not intended to ever bring to the surface.

"That… that was the worst day of my life. I knew I was going to fuck up sooner or later, I always do. What…" and part of Kit tried to stop himself, tried to swallow the words before he fucked it up again "...what I didn't expect was how much it hurt. I made you hate me, and I drove you away, and it felt like part of me was leaving with you, like I'd cut out part of my heart and it was never coming back…"

His throat felt like it was closing up, but the words kept coming.

"And it was… if it hadn't been for Del knocking some sense in to me I think I would have done something far worse. You made me feel like a person. And then I hurt you by doing what I always do, by trying to distract myself from feeling like the garbage I am, and…"

… I'm crying… when did I start crying…

"...but this isn't about how I was feeling- dear heart, you have nothing to be sorry for. You were hurting, and sick- you were sick that day, weren't you? I know you can't think straight when you have a bad day…"

...my starling… my heart...

The kettle whistled shrilly on the stove, and, almost grateful for the interruption, Kit managed to manouver Shae onto the couch that they had shamelessly stolen from their last landlord, kissed the top of their head, and turned to make their tea, drying his eyes before he could make an utter fool of himself.

...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...

[Shae]

Bethas 21, 2719, Late Morning
Kit & Shae’s Apartment, Old Rose Harbor

.

They couldn’t articulate themselves and they knew it, but there was no hope of it improving any time soon. The youth could hardly breathe, never mind speak as they bawled, gasping in air in between the flow of tears. Kit pulling them close didn’t actually help matters, Shae certain that he’d only embraced them because he hadn’t understood and how the hell was he supposed to have gleaned any information from their vague and disconnected confession? If they’d had the air to protest then they would have, but instead, every time they tried, the enormity of it weighed upon them anew and they sobbed with renewed vigour.

Of course, it couldn’t continue indefinitely, such a violent outpouring of emotion simply exhausting. By the time they had sufficient air to speak, they didn’t actually want to do so. It was pleasant in his embrace, even if it was a little damp—yet another reason to feel bad, trivial though it was. The galdor had only just changed his shirt and they’d gone and soaked it. In spite of that, it really was nice to rest under his chin, not cold as his body heat rose through the dampness. They could feel the vibration in his throat as he murmured to them, and the thud of his heart where their hand had grabbed a fistful of cloth.

They didn’t remember clinging to him but obviously, they’d done so, holding onto him as if their life depended on it; they weren’t sure that their soul was as securely entwined with this body they’d snatched. But the former wick had come to rely on him as much as they needed to inhabit Cordelia’s diminutive frame. Not that they’d tell him that—they couldn’t—and not simply due to some sense of youthful awkwardness and embarrassment; the teenager really couldn’t find the words, hardly able to understand their own feelings, never mind describing them to the galdor.

They were calmer by the time his speech shifted from comforting nonsense to something more substantial. The brunette held very still, listening intently, but disbelieving. They couldn’t have come up with such words themself, but what Kit was saying…

“...it felt like part of me was leaving with you, like I'd cut out part of my heart and it was never coming back…"

Shae had managed to stop crying, the wellspring seeming to have finally run dry, but droplets were oozing down their puffy face once more. They understood what he meant and it hurt. The man had taken them in and been good to them, only to have the raen lash into him almost without provocation, and it had been born out of absolute certainty that he didn’t regard them as highly as that golly kov he’d brought home with him. They’d thought themself as unimportant in his regard, something pitiable to take care of but certainly not to l-

But he did care—quite a lot, it seemed—and the poor man didn’t even know them. Kit had no idea what they were and if they told him, how could he possibly-

They felt sick. It wasn’t clear if the nausea was the result of these new thoughts, all the tears they’d expelled, or if the movement in their abdomen was butterflies or a warning that they were about to throw up all over him to add insult to injury.

Sick. He thought that they were sick. All the times that they’d threatened to quite literally come undone were sickness from his perspective, because he had no idea that Shae was a parasite. A dead—undead?—parasite that shouldn’t still be clinging to some semblance of life.

"Kit-” his name came out in a cracked and tortured tone that made them cringe as he turned from them, busying himself with the kettle, which gave a final wheezing whistle as it was removed from the heat.

They couldn’t tell him that they were dead. They couldn’t— They didn’t know what they were supposed to say to his confession, didn’t know what he expected them to say. They were just a kid, and a seriously fucked up and confused one at that. It was a wonder that they knew their erse from their elbow, especially as neither of those were technically theirs. Selfishly, they didn’t want him to leave them though, the former wick knew that much. The last thing they wanted to do was send him running away screaming.

Unsteady and extremely out of kilter, the raen hugged themselves, staring at his back as they tried to process it all. The almost furtive movement of his hands across his cheeks hadn’t gone unnoticed, even with his back to them, and that hurt too. Arms tightened around them as if that would help to keep them together, the self-embrace the only thing preventing them from unravelling now that he’d released them.

“I-I-I started it,” they whispered, which definitely wasn’t what they’d expected to come out. That wasn’t quite the reciprocation that they’d intended. “I was trying t-t-to make you hurt. I wanted you to...”

What? Tell them that they were a waste of space? Tell them to piss off? Had they wanted him to confirm all of their dark thoughts at the time or to refute them?

“I wasn’t sick, I’m not- It was the next night,” they explained hoarsely, freeing a hand so that it could scrub away their tears. No amount of rubbing was going to get rid of that tacky feeling or the rawness of the skin around their eyes. They’d have to wash it, but they didn’t want to leave him right now. Instead, they tucked up their legs and hugged them to their chest, gaze alternating between following the musician’s movements and skittering away.

“I have plenty to be sorry for, Kit. I was childish, and you were right, I do run away. I-I-I’m not even 18 yet. By golly- By y-y-your standards, I am a child and I… I n-n-never would have agreed with that but I… do now. I haven’t seen enough or…”

They bit their lip, making a vain attempt to use their short hair as a veil as they continued, face flushed for a new reason.

“I d-didn’t want you to think of me as a kid. I… I care… what you think about… me. You’re… you’re- I really- I mean, you… I- hm. You’re i-important. I think.”

It sounded pathetic—it was pathetic—but it was an attempt, and what was more, it was all they could manage without choking on their own tongue.

[Kit]

21st Bethas 2719 | Morning
Kit and Shae’s Apartment | Old Rose

Fussing with the battered little tin tea caddy and the strainer and the teapot, Kit listened to the jolting stream of consciousness issuing from the miserable bundle on the couch.

Shae needed to talk, and he let them, with the knowledge that he could pick out pieces to clarify when they ran out of words. Occasionally, the golly ran a long-fingered hand gently over their dishevelled head to assure them he was still listening, making note of points to go over in his rebuttal. Conversations with the wick tended to go like this, he had found, because they couldn’t always order their thoughts well enough to express them first time round, but if he was patient, the two of them could work out what the youth meant together. One point did startle him, however-

“I’m not even 18 yet-”

-and he drew a sharp breath before he could catch it.

... I jibed at them about being half my age...I thought I was exaggerating…

Hoping they hadn’t noticed his surprise, he rolled the information around in his head for a moment. Despite what they were currently stammering, and what he’d roared at them on that horrible day, he didn’t think of them as a child. Still…

...seventeen...Alioe bless…

But then, wicks did mature faster, he knew that much from drunken evenings with Delyth swapping childhood stories.

“I d-didn’t want you to think of me as a kid. I… I care… what you think about… me. You’re… you’re- I really- I mean, you… I- hm. You’re i-important. I think.”

He broke, and with a small sound something like a sob low in his throat, dropped to wrap his arms around them from behind, head on their shoulder, speaking softly into their ear.

"Darling, I don’t think you’re a child. I am so, so sorry for what I said that day. I was angry, and hurting, and I wanted to hurt you back. I should never have said those things."

Kit pressed his cheek against theirs, eyes closed, arms tight around them, but not so tight as to trap them in an embrace they didn’t want.

“You are so terribly, dreadfully important to me and quite frankly it terrifies me. I never expected to love someone this much and I can’t stand that I made… you…”

His eyes snapped open, and almost silently, the horrified galdor breathed one word.

“...fuck…”

...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...

[Shae]

Bethas 21, 2719, Late Morning
Kit & Shae’s Apartment, Old Rose Harbor

.

They both spoke, they both apologised, they both said very similar things and it felt as if they were echoing each other, yet overlapping, each falling over the other to convey the same sentiments; it was a wonder that they managed to hear anything beyond themselves. When Kit began apologising again, Shae started to shake their head at once, already denying the blame that he was trying to place squarely on his own shoulders and on his shoulders alone. They weren’t innocent here, wasn’t he listening to them? Then again, perhaps they weren’t listening enough to him.

The raen should listen to him instead of repeating the same thoughts that had been chased around the inside of their head for days upon days. Nevertheless, it didn’t prevent them from protesting softly, "You weren’t angry until I made you angry; you were happy, that’s why I-”

The brunette doubted themself now. Had they been the one who’d started it after all? Had they misremembered? Had Kit been the one who’d tried to rend flesh from the outset with an acerbic tongue?

It was difficult to disbelieve him, his voice all cracked like that, so full of emotion that the youth’s heart splintered within them, sharing his suffering as if it was their own—it was theirs as well, absorbed by proximity as emotions bled into his field. The musician who so often kept it together, managing to maintain a positive air and a cheeky demeanour for the most part. There was a well of pain within him, something that had existed before Shae came along—they had no doubt of that—but it was being fed by a tributary of which the youth was apparently the source.

With him hugging them from behind, they couldn’t truly return his embrace, only able to rest their fingers on his arms, trying to convey as much as possible through the limited contact as he managed to do as he enveloped their minute form.

The man could speak so much better than Shae could, more certain of his words and his sentiments, and they flowed so much more readily than the pathetic spluttering that the raen had managed thus far. In other circumstances, they had been all too happy to let the cadence of his speech and the timbre of his voice sweep them away. They had no doubt that others had fallen under his spell that way; it was how he acquired his various bedmates. This time, he had their attention but the former wick tried not to get lost in him, certain that there would be some break, some opportunity where they could say what needed to be said—whatever the clock that was!

However, the stall in his speech leaving them struck dumb. It wasn’t silence that stretched between them but the reverberation of that one word, no longer heard but all too keenly felt.

Love.

It hummed in their heart, helping to clarify so much about how they regarded him and placing a name on it that allowed Shae to understand exactly what it was that they felt for him. It was nothing like the infatuations that they’d had, no romanticised ideal where everything was supposed to be perfect. This was nothing like that; it was messy and painful and terrifying and raw and yet… undeniably beautiful.

And there was nothing they could do to express it.

They could have done it with three little words, hell, two without ever having to repeat the one that would surely stick in their gullet: “Me too.” But they wouldn’t come and from them they felt inadequate, a pale comparison to what had flowed so clearly from his golly tongue. Speech had never been their strong point, not in this life nor the last, but once upon a time, they would have had other means to express themself. However, the mona would do nothing for them now, not even bridge the gaps in their inadequacies to transmit this one thing, instead trapping them in a bubble of resentment, a constant reminder that they had transgressed—no matter what their intentions had been.

The youth couldn’t tell him anything meaningful, only squeeze his arms before he could withdraw them, clinging to him in case he tried to pull away, to retract.

The frustration of it filled them up, pressing up against the inside of their skin, pulsing in their arteries, filtering through membranes, and saturating the air in their lungs like waste that refused to be expelled in each exhale. It permeated their soul, flexing the bonds between it and this mortal plane, burning. But they didn’t threaten to unravel, not this time, no. No, they could feel their unmistakable connection to this body, how it weighed on them, tethered them here with all of the hormones and chemicals that made this an agony that they would never have had to endure if they’d been floating free without a shell. There had been so little they could do in that unliking state and yet it was now that they felt limited, powerless, vulnerable.

Frustration built until they threatened to burst—and then they did.

Hands left his limbs, the youth jerking forward abruptly as fingers fumbled and clawed aimlessly up their own face, mouth gaping open wide before their knuckles filled the space.

They screamed.

Their body, not Cordelia’s at this moment, curled in itself as they sucked in air through their nose to do it again. They made themself smaller and it didn’t make them blink out of existence. It was exhausting, draining and entirely necessary as it allowed that excess of emotion that had threatened to overwhelm them to escape. The mona seemed to close in around them, angrier than ever, but it was so difficult to tell and they were crying and yet they were angry.

They were untethered.

“You don’t even know me! You don’t know me at all, you mung bastard!” they screeched, finding a cushion beside them and flinging it across the room so it bounced softly off a wall.

“You can’t- It’s not possible to- I’m not right! You can feel it, the mona knows, I’m not right, don’t you realise that?”

Their voice was a whine now, the rage not entirely gone but ebbing.

Their feet found purchase under them, the couch an untrustworthy and changeable surface, but they managed to stand on it and turn, gravity bringing their knees in contact with its back as their hands grasped for him, not wanting him to bolt in spite of the warning regarding their nature. Fingers fumbled for the damp material of his shirt, seeking a hold so they could pull him close and hang onto him—only partly due to the urgent law of physics that wanted to send them sprawling on their face.

Wet grey eyes roved wildly for a moment before seeking his own, their touch turning gentle as they sought to cradle his face between their palms.

“I-”

They tried to smile, watery and fragile.

“I-”

The bridge between language and emotion remained elusive.

“Kit...”

His name came out as a sigh, the only thing that they could say without issue and use as a vehicle for how they felt for him, though some fond exasperation managed to seep in.

They shifted, trying to bring their face close to his, touch forehead to forehead—a feat made possible by their perch on the couch back—as their arms moved to snake around his neck.

[Kit]

21st Bethas 2719 | Morning
Kit and Shae’s Apartment | Old Rose

Kit felt it in their field before they even moved. He’d got used to the unsettling pins and needles feeling when his field brushed their own, but this was explosive, like he’d accidentally put a boot through a hornets nest and the swarm, roaring and angry, threatened to engulf them both.

It scared him.

Shae had been clinging to his arms, but their small form jolted forward, stuffing clenched fists between their teeth in a vain attempt to muffle the scream that erupted, ragged and violent, from their throat.

“...Shae…” his voice was low, nothing in its cadence betraying his racing pulse, the adrenaline surging through him at this violent, unexpected explosion.

They screamed again, snapping him out of whatever paralysis held him away from them, but his hand barely brushed their shoulder before they were yelling, flinging the first thing they could find across the room.

“You don’t even know me! You don’t know me at all, you mung bastard!”

“Please, Shae, I didn’t mean to-”

“You can’t- It’s not possible to- I’m not right! You can feel it, the mona knows, I’m not right, don’t you realise that?”

He held his own field in tight, his instinct to throw out his will to calm theirs overridden by the memory of the one and only time he had tried, and the disaster that had followed.

He was desperately relieved when the mona subsided quickly, and he could tell within a moment that the danger, whatever it was, had passed, as they stood on the rickety couch and half turned, half fell towards him. Small fingers wound themselves into his shirt front and Kit found himself looking straight into their tearstained face, now on a level with his own.

The galdor could see they were trying to find words, and he let them, searching their countenance for some hint of the feelings roiling beneath the surface. Their hands weren’t clinging to his shirt any more, but gingerly cupping his face, and taking that as a good sign, he let out a deep sigh of relief...and one intelligible word fell from their lips.

His name.

“Oh, darling…”

He found small arms around his neck, and as their forehead bumped his own, he moved one hand to brace their back, holding the wick’s unsteady form against his chest. The other cradled their cheek, the pad of his thumb gently brushing away tears.

“Hey...hey now...” he breathed, brow against theirs, breathing heavy. “...what was all that about?”

...they didn’t run, that’s a start…

“You’re getting better at that, you know,”” he commented quietly, softly brushing his nose against theirs in a gentling show of affection. “The mona listen faster than they used to, even if they’re still grumpy with you.””

...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...

[Shae]

Bethas 21, 2719, Late Morning
Kit & Shae’s Apartment, Old Rose Harbor

.

They’d caught him utterly by surprise, they could see that and understand it, their behaviour utterly moony from his perspective. All the same, Shae was immensely grateful that he didn’t recoil from them as they turned to grab him, especially as it could have been somewhat threatening—if such a thing could ever be said of them. They’d screamed about wrongness, had basically told him that they weren’t to be bothered with, certainly not worthy of love, but they still wanted him in spite of it all.

The galdor had a rigidity about him though, perhaps the urge to bolt hovering within him, or more likely he was doing his best not to set them off again.

If things would just come out of their mouth in a semi-coherent manner then they’d be delighted, but thus far, things weren’t going to plan. All the thoughts that they’d gathered while they’d laid in bed, neatly arranged and organised had long since scattered like a flock of birds that had suddenly found a cat in their midst.

His hand found their back, tension leached out of the raen’s diminutive form as they relaxed against him, content now that he had returned the physical contact that they’d initiated.

His question elicited an incredibly world-weary sigh from them, as if all of Vita was a burden that sat on their shoulders.

"I… I don’t know,” they admitted quietly, eyelids drifting shut. "I can’t… say what I mean. It’s frustrating. The words, they just don’t… you know.”

They lapsed into silence, listening to his heavy breathing and wondering what had caused it. They’d been the one to exert themself so why did he sound like that? Had they spooked him so badly that this was his physical response?

They remained quiet and pensive, slightly scrunching and twitching their nose as he rubbed his against it, suppressing the urge to giggle at the silliness of it all.

His next words made their eyes snap open, Shae leaning back to regard him with rapid blinks. Had they misheard? No, he’d said about the mona...

"I- what? The mona… Does it seem to react to me?” they asked, tilting their head in bemused curiosity. They gave it a slight shake. "Not the way that it normally sits around me, not that kind of reaction, but… to my emotions? I didn’t think that I-”

Small lips grew pursed, their brow crinkling as they frowned in thought. The couch back digging into their knees, they adjusted their position to sit on it instead, setting their legs to either side of his form, resting their head against his chest now that they’d lost inches of borrowed height.

"I’m sorry if it makes things uncomfortable but... well, it’s attached to me, isn’t it? I have a tendency of knocking things out of place, don’t I?”

They laughed weakly, attempting to joke, "You know that full well, considering how out of kilter I’ve made your life. And all because I wasn’t watching where I was and threw up on your shoes. Which clearly wasn’t some clever thing I did on purpose now that you’ve had a chance to see what a walking disaster I am.”

The tears had stopped but they still remained, dried into a tight mask on their face. It really needed a wash, but they were reluctant to excuse themself, far happier to remain in place with arms now loosely looped around the galdor’s middle.