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“You’re not kidding, right? You really want to see?”
You don’t think that Wally would lie to you, or push a joke this far. Still, you fail to see the appeal in this. You hold the apple Wally has given you by its stem, and twirl it around.
“I’m not joking at all,” he responds. His eyes linger on the apple you’re holding, before his gaze drifts back to your face. “Do you mind? I wouldn’t want to make a friend do something they don’t want.”
Wally is the first one who has asked to see you eat right to your face, but you know that it’s yet another surprising aspect of your body to everyone living here. More surprising than the feeling of your skin, the number of your fingers, and the texture of your hair. Some are better at hiding their reactions than others. Some don’t try to hide them at all, like Wally. He’s here to have his curiosity sated, and you can’t deny that you have questions of your own.
“No, no, it’s fine. It doesn’t bother me,” you say, answering honestly. It’s a little weird, nothing more than that. You’re used to that by now. “So, hm… None of you really eat? The food’s just for show?”
Wally is quiet for a moment. He folds his hands over each other, and taps one of his fingers on the top of his hand, the rhythm even.
“The others don’t. They think their favourite foods are pretty, that’s all,” he says. “But I do. I eat. I get hungry. Like you do.”
“Oh, uh, really?” His answer catches you off-guard. You wrack your brain for memories of any instance of seeing Wally eat, yet turn up empty. You continue speaking before he has the chance to respond. “I’ve never seen you do it, though.”
Wally smiles wider, his eyes squinting a little. “Maybe you haven’t been looking well enough,” he says. Whatever that means. You sigh through your nose. Another skill that only you are capable of in this small town.
“I wanna see how you eat too, then. You can’t say that and expect me not to wonder about that,” you tell him. The idea of having something substantial in common with one of your new friends is nice, but it's mostly your curiosity speaking. Where does he even leave it? “I-if you don’t mind.” You quickly add. Wally was considerate enough to ask as well, and you have no idea if there are any weird implications behind what you’re asking for.
“It’s fine with me,” he says, looking at the apple once more, and back at you. “You should go first, since I asked first. I’ll show you after, is that alright? Promise.” Wally is the type of person to keep his word, you know that.
“Fine by me. I’m kind of hungry, anyway.” You bring the apple to your mouth. It’s strange to eat with someone gazing so intently at you, his eyes practically boring holes into you. It makes you feel self-conscious of every single one of your movements. Something as simple as taking a bite no longer feels natural, and your nails dig crescents into the apple as you hold it in front of your mouth. You close your eyes.
Well, you might as well get started.
Your teeth sink into the apple’s flesh with a snap. When sap practically gushes out, your eyes shoot open and you let out a noise of surprise. A droplet or two run down your chin. Your face heats up, and Wally’s slow, stilted laughter doesn’t help your embarrassment. With the back of your hand, you wipe your chin clean. You hadn’t expected it to be this juicy. It tastes good, at least. The perfect mixture of sour and sweet, and soft enough to easily chew through. You keep your mouth firmly closed the whole time. After that embarrassing moment, you want to at least refrain from making too much noise.
Wally leans his chin on one of his hands as he stares up at you. The height difference between the two of you is noticeable, even when sitting down. “What a messy way of eating, neighbour. I wasn’t expecting that.”
You groan, and put your hand over your mouth. “It’s not usually like that,” you mumble. “I don’t know what I was doing there. It’s supposed to stay inside, and you just chew it up.” You lower your hand, and smile sheepishly. This is more silly than anything truly embarrassing, honestly. The whole situation is odd, and has you more on edge than you should be.
“Chew?” he repeats, tilting his head to the side.
“Yeah.” You open your mouth and point at your teeth. “That’s what these are for. My teeth. They grind it up, so it doesn’t get stuck anywhere.”
“Ohhh,” he draws out the noise. His fingers tap on his cheek. “I was wondering about that. I thought they were filling up empty space, and that was all.” The only times Wally looks away from your eyes is when he moves to stare at something else. This time, at your teeth. “Can you show me that, too?”
You frown. “What, the chewing?”
Wally simply nods in response. You hesitate.
“It’s… Impolite to chew with your mouth open,” you explain. It’s an unwritten rule that you don’t have any clear memory of, yet know to be true. A bit of knowledge so ingrained into your way of acting that it has left an impression on you deeper than a memory. (How stupid. You wish you could remember anything more about where you came from, anything significant.) “And it looks gross. I don’t recommend it.”
“Why would it be impolite? I’m the one asking you to do it. I would like to see.” He blinks up at you multiple times, his smile softening around the edges. “Pretty please?” You laugh, and shrug your shoulders as Wally’s expression returns to its usual. It takes you some effort to wrestle your eyes away from the dark pools of his eyes, and look at the apple you bring to your mouth.
“Okay, whatever. Since you asked so nicely,” you tease lightly. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You take another bite out of the apple, larger than the last. Like Wally asked, you keep your mouth open, and try not to think too hard about what you’re doing. Instead of speeding through it, you chew slowly, to keep the amount of gross, smacking noises to a minimum. Wally hums as he watches. His pupils move up and down with the rising and falling of your teeth, his eyes even more lidded than usual.
“You really do crush it to bits. I see, I see… How different.” he mumbles to himself. If there’s anything he doesn’t seem to be, it’s disgusted. He doesn’t look fazed at all. You’re forced to close your mouth when swallowing, and Wally blinks when you show him it’s all gone. “Where does it go?”
“It goes down,” you respond. You press a finger to the outside of your throat, and trace it down to about where your stomach must be. It’s difficult to think of a way to explain this to him without causing more confusion. “There’s a kind of… Pipe? A hollow part. It leads down to another place, where the food gets burnt up.”
“Burned?” Wally’s eyes widen. “You have a fire inside of your body? Ah, is that why you are always so warm…? That seems very uncomfortable, friend. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine! I’m completely fine!” That definitely wasn’t the right word to use, and you smile at your own silliness. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong… I– I don’t really know how to explain it to you. It’ll sound weird no matter what I say.”
Wally remains quiet for a few moments longer, as if waiting to hear if you will offer any further explanation. “That’s alright. I don’t mind. Some things are difficult to explain. I don’t think I could explain to you how I eat, either. Bodies can be a little silly.”
“That’s one way to put it.” you respond, smiling. Without thinking, your tongue darts out of your mouth and licks your lips, lapping up some of the sap you had failed to clean up earlier. It would’ve gone entirely unnoticed by you if Wally hadn’t brought attention to it.
“Your tongue is funny too. I can’t do that, only this.” He sticks his tongue out in a straight line, before pulling it back inside. It’s made out of felt like the rest of him, like your body is made out of flesh. “Yours looks squishy. Can I touch it?”
That’s where you draw the line. You’re fine with him watching you, find him asking you to chew with your mouth open a semi-acceptable level of strangeness, but you’re not going to let him pull at your tongue. Your face is burning up. Despite your reservations, you assume that Wally doesn’t think there’s anything strange about asking this. Hadn’t Julie asked you for a couple of strands of your hair to take a closer look at? Hadn’t Frank practically interrogated you on all kinds of subjects when you recently arrived, trying to figure out what kind of creature you were? Still… You don’t really want him to do this.
“Well, I…” You trail off. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and you can’t look away from Wally’s eyes. When you shake your head, the movement is difficult and sluggish. It feels as if you're underwater, fighting against a membrane limiting your movements. The apple sits in your lap, forgotten. Wally’s eyes are so, so big.
Wally leans in closer, smiling as he looks at you. “You’ll be okay. I’ll be careful.”
This is weird. You don’t want this. However, thinking becomes too much effort as Wally hovers in front of your face. Your mouth hangs open the slightest bit, though whether through unconscious obedience, or because you’re so out of it that your facial muscles simply relaxed, you don’t know. Wally holds your face still with one hand, using his other hand to pry your mouth further open.
He doesn’t immediately go for your tongue. Instead, he pokes at your front teeth, running his finger along the bottom. For a moment, he lingers on one of your canine teeth. “Ha, ha, ha. I thought they would’ve been sharper.” He runs the pad of his pointer finger over your teeth, until he reaches your molars, and the back of your mouth. A shudder shoots through you, and you lurch backward.
“It’ll hurt if you go deeper.” With his finger still in your mouth, your voice sounds somewhat distorted.
Wally blinks slowly. “...Me, or you?”
It’s difficult to keep a solid train of thought going, and even more to speak. Your eyes are nearly entirely slid shut. The world around you is hazy. Yet, you know that Wally is looking right at you.
“Both of us.” You can’t quite remember why it would be bad if he pushed down further. All you know is that it’ll be bad.
Wally pulls his hand back. He prods at your tongue instead, which twitches in response to his touch. You let out a noise of discomfort, and he shushes you. “It’s softer than I expected. What’s that on it?” Another finger enters your mouth. He pinches your tongue in between two of your fingers. As he rubs the bottom of it with one of them, more and more spit starts to accumulate in your mouth.
You try to answer his question, though a part of you knows very well it’s no use. What leaves your mouth is incomprehensible gibberish as your tongue wriggles in his grasp. Wally laughs harder than he has during your whole interaction so far.
“Oh, so it’s for speaking, too? How silly.” He retreats from your mouth. You let out a sigh, and the haze in your head clears a tad as he stares at your spit covering his fingers. With his clean hand, he reaches inside his own mouth and mirrors what he earlier did to you. You try not to stare too hard into his mouth. It’s a black expanse that seems to lead nowhere. “Another difference. I can still speak while doing this!” He laughs again. “Another difference...”
He speaks as unobstructed as if there were nothing in his mouth at all. Your face scrunches up. This feels like missing the last step while going down the stairs, expecting something that isn’t there.
“Now, now,” Wally places both of his hands back in his lap, and smiles at you. “It’s not very nice to look at your friend like that.” Your head feels heavier. Though you attempt to blink, they’re completely frozen up.
“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.” Your way of speaking is languid, and you don’t know what you’re saying until you’ve heard the words spoken out loud.
“Apology accepted. I’ll ask you one more question to make it up for that, though!” He winks at you. “Your voice… It comes from somewhere else other than your tongue, right? I still heard noise.”
Your arm moves. Your hand ends up at your throat. Your head leans to the side. “Here. It vibrates.”
Wally doesn’t ask you for permission before touching you this time. His hand, light and soft, rests on your throat. You feel the spit on his fingers rub against your skin. You hum a short tune. Your vocal cords vibrate accordingly.
Wally squeezes your throat tighter, though you can still breathe fine. One of his hands rests on your thigh. He taps two of his fingers on your skin in a rhythmic, repetitive pattern. It matches up perfectly with the beating of your heart.
“What’s that?” he asks, his voice going lower and lower as he speaks. “The pounding.” You swallow, and feel it slide down your throat.
“My heart,” you respond as quietly as he speaks. You’re not sure why, it merely feels like the natural thing to do. “It… Keeps everything moving, I guess. I think. All the parts moving.”
Wally laughs softly. “You have so many moving parts. Your body can do so many different things. So different from ours… Carrying so much inside. No wonder you have to eat.” You’re not sure whether it’s his proximity, or if the speeding up of his fingers on your thigh is what is making your heart race.
“It’s going faster.” The pressure around your throat increases. “What’s it saying? What does it tell you?”
“N… N-nothing.” you have to squeeze the words out of you. “It’s not alive.”
Wally slowly shakes his head. “It’s not another thing. It’s a part of you. It’s alive, and it’s trying to tell you something.” He hums. “Maybe you can’t understand it yet. I couldn’t understand Home at first, either. And you have so much inside you.” He loosens his grip on your throat. You suck in a deep breath, and lean forward.
The mist disappears from your brain. When you look up at him, Wally is smiling at you. “Thanks for the meal!”
You glance down at your lap. The apple that had been resting there the whole time, with only two bites taken out of it, has disappeared.