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The meows of the cats are a nonstop cacophony of noise in Bee’s ears. She’s perched atop a countertop, and she grimaces as another cat meows. It feels endless. Bee is in purgatory. Purrgatory? No, that’s dumb.
“God, Finn. Your cats are loud.” She swings her feet a little bit, doing her best to bite back her expression and keep her voice light.
“Are they too much?” Finn asks. He’s sorting some plates, facing the other direction.
“A little bit,” she responds. Usually it wouldn’t bother her so much, but these are gifts from Pixels, and Bee is already on edge, so it’s making this weird storm in her brain. A tail flicks across her dangling calf, and Bee flinches, accidentally kicking the cabinet door behind her foot. “Shit, sorry. Hope I didn’t scuff the wood.”
“You’re good,” Finn says. He turns around with a smile, which drops a little when he looks at Bee. “Hey, you seem… tense. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Yeah? You’re sure?”
“Absolutely positive.”
Finn hums, and he doesn’t ask again, but he does hop up onto the counter next to Bee. His shoulder knocks against hers, and she finds herself leaning into the light touch.
“Have you heard anything from Kark yet?” Finn’s question makes bile creep up Bee’s throat. They wish they could have his ability to always seem to know what’s wrong.
Her fingers tap against the granite. “No. Nothing yet. Still not sure where she’s gone.”
“Hm.” Finn’s tail swishes against the counter. “They’ll be home soon, I’m sure. They can’t be away from you for too long, or me, or the rest of us here.”
Bee swallows thickly and chews on faer bottom lip. It’s been weeks, so clearly Finn is wrong, but fae won’t say that. Kark could very well be gone for good. So long as Kota knows where he is, Bee is sure that Kark would be fine. It feels a little bit cruel to think that way, but Kark left without a word other than signs outside of his manor. Nothing telling Bee what was going on, not a goodbye or an I love you. Just a sign outside of the manor, one blanket statement for everyone, looking for loopholes in order to feel like he never broke his promise.
I’m not leaving. I’m just taking a break. As if the exact verbiage is the issue, not the fact that she just fucking disappeared. No sign of where she’s gone, no sign that she’s okay. Just fucking radio silence, and an attempt to pretend that Bee hasn’t spent half their relationship just waiting for her to come back.
Not to mention the book that Bee found. The one in the barrel, the one Bee found when they were trying to find any hint of where Kark went. The one that says just how much Bee has hurt Kark, how selfish they have been. Thinking about it makes guilt swirl beneath Bee’s ribs, that they went through Kark’s things, but the book wasn’t hidden.
Bee thought that maybe… maybe there would be something for her, somewhere inside the manor. In the barrel of decorations that Kark used in the loft, ages ago. She opens it sometimes, just to look at it all and smile, often when she is in front of Kark. So maybe there would be a goodbye for her somewhere inside, but there wasn’t. Just a reminder of how selfish Bee is, read in an empty loft in an empty manor, every occupant gone because of Bee’s own stupidity. Kark wouldn’t leave it there intentionally, he’s not cruel, but fuck, it felt so pointed.
“Hey.” Finn’s voice snaps Bee out of faer thoughts. His arm wraps around faer shoulders, and he tucks fae against him. Bee lets faerself be moved, pressing faer face against warm skin and trying to burn this into faer memory. Who knows how long fae will actually have it. “They’ll be back, Bee. Kark loves us, they wouldn’t just leave forever without a word. I know they wouldn’t. And I know you know it, too.”
“I know,” Bee says. They don’t try to dispute it. Bee just agrees, not wanting to bring Finn down. If they claim to be okay, make it believable enough, then Finn won’t want to leave, either.
He kisses the top of her head. “There’s my girl,” Finn mutters against Bee’s hair. Bee presses herself closer to him, and wonders if she’ll have to get rid of the room attached to her library, and does not breathe another word.