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A door opens, it opens into thick air infused with the addictive quality of tobacco and alcohol, it opens into the animated chatter of patrons and low music -an indie piece full of Soul.
The door closes, it closes behind a group of children, scruffy-faced and dirt-stained hands, patchwork clothes and heavy-weighted shoulders. A girl leads the charge -no older than sixteen- strutting ahead with defiance and purpose, knuckles as red as her hair. A boy follows after, eyes hidden behind goggles -hidden emotions, the world obscured from view. His frame, big and wide, covers the entrance like a shield.
As his presence moves on a little girl peeks out from behind, younger and smaller than the rest. Her blue hair tugged into a messy braid, choppy bangs across her forehead -her sister had cut it, not very well but she loves it all the same.
And as the little girl’s drawn-in shoulders and shuffling feet try to keep up with the rest a body slams into her side, hard and uncaring, as if she were invisible.
Another boy, the last of the group, barrels past her, big, bushy brows sitting over accusing eyes and a mean mouth.
A wingbeat in her heart.
They make their way through the bar. Heads look up, hands greet each other, a glass is offered then taken away -scolding.
“Ay! Come off it, Vander! They’re old enough, yah? Let them have a taste, gonna do it anyway.”
The hulking form of a beast of a man rests behind the counter, a hound on guard. A beast with the heart of a saint, deep down just a puppy.
“Not while I’m here, they won’t.”
Grumbles and bitten-back curses retreat into a corner, begrudgingly respecting the line that has been drawn. You do not battle a beast in its lair lest you wish to end up in a box, especially if it has pups.
“Yeah, Vander! Why not let us have a taste? Gonna-”
The sentence cut short, words swallowed back down, never leaving Mylo’s lips as the silent face of the hound stares back at him. Nothing is offered in return, unneeded -a challenge.
“Ah!… I-I mean…”
A strong brow raises, thick tree trunks for arms cross in front of a wide, muscular chest -go on.
Forfeit. The loudest always the smallest, drowning their insecurities in noise.
“Sorry…” Big, bushy brows drop and the mean mouth has nothing to spout forth, for once.
“That’s what I thought.” Vander nods his head in the direction of a door, a flickering light bulb hangs above the frame -needs changing. “Go clean yourself up.”
Drawn in shoulders and shuffling feet vanish through the door, out of mind -and something inside the little girl feels pleased.
A wingbeat in her heart.
Vander procures a pipe from under the counter, stuffs it with tobacco- “Claggor.” -lights it- “Make sure your brother actually does as he’s told.” -and takes one long drag, smoke wafting from his nostrils.
Claggor only nods and follows after his brother through the door, out of sight. He’s always been a boy of few words, letting his actions do the talking instead.
The quiet ones always have the most to hide.
And then it's only them, Vi and Powder, only ever them.
The little sister sticks close to her big sister, wants to reach out, tug on the edge of her shirt, hold her hand in hers and never let it go again. She wants it yet she doesn’t do it. She’s not a kid anymore, she’s not that weak anymore -Vi must know that she’s not that weak anymore!
“Powder.” Voice soft and careful -always careful around her, it’s all everyone ever is. “Paid Benzo a visit this morning, brought some things back.”
The little girl’s head perks up -new toys?
The face of the hulking beast of a man is kind, a warm smile on his lips -not scary, not at all, not to her.
“Why don’t you have a look, hmm? Your sister and I are just gonna have a quick talk.”
A wingbeat in her heart.
“B-But-” Small hands shield her chest, tugging and hugging them close. “I want to talk, too.”
And suddenly there’s a hand in hers, the one she’s wanted to grab but was too scared to -Vi has always been the braver one.
“It’s alright, Pow Pow.” Her sister bends down, bruised fingers carding through her chop, chop bangs. “I’ll be down in a minute, won’t be long at all, promise.”
But they’re supposed to be together, together, just them, always, always! Why doesn’t she want to be together?! Is it because she’s weak? She can be strong! She’s no kid anymore! She grew stronger, grew bigger, she’s not afraid anymore!
She sniffs and her bottom lip wobbles.
“B-But-”
“You said you wanted to show me something, yeah? One of your inventions? Mouser, was it? Why don’t you go down and make sure she’s ready? Then we can play together.”
She wants that, she wants to play together.
Powder nods, her blue braid shaking, the little ornaments in her hair cling, clang, clinging.
“O-Okay. I can do that.”
And when her big sister smiles at her, all cut lip and bloodied nose, it’s like everything’s going to be okay, going to be okay because her big sister said it would be, and her big sister is no liar, she would never.
“I know you can, Pow Pow.”
Her sister’s hand leaves hers, their fingertips brushing, slipping, then… gone. Powder takes a step towards the door, one then two then three then... she’s gone, stepping down the stairs of time.
A wingbeat in her heart.
________________________________________________________________________________
Down the stairs, through the door, to that bunk bed that they share. Toys and unfinished inventions, fairy lights and crayon drawings hanging from the top, the bottom bunk a girl-made dreamland. That’s where you’ll find her, that little girl with the blue braid and choppy bangs, waiting for her sister.
An open sack full of knick-knacks and scraps sits on the floor, the girl currently fiddling with her newest invention, Mouser.
Mouser, because she’s small and cute and squeaks all fun when she explodes. When she actually works that is, which is… not often. She just doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. But she’ll figure it out, she can, she can! Vi said she could!
Maybe if she-
-ripped from her hands.
Mylo is standing next to the bed and looking like a wet dog, his clothes splotched with water. Mouser is trapped in his grasp, shaking the little thing, something clattering inside.
“What ya got there, Pow Pow?” She bristles, he doesn’t get to call her that!
Powder jumps up from the bed and grabs for the boy’s hand, trying to free Mouser. But Mylo, who’s already taller than her, only lifts his arm in the air.
“Give her back!” She hop, hops, straining on her tippy-toes, her arms reaching, reaching, but just not quite reaching, too short, too small.
And Mylo just laughs and laughs in her face.
A wingbeat in her heart.
“Mylo… stop being a jerk.”
Claggor’s calm voice intervenes from his place on the couch. Intervening yet not intervening, letting the scene play out. Why isn’t he doing anything?! Join in or stop it, choose! At least with Mylo she knows what she’s getting but Claggor is always so… distant. He doesn’t say it, not like Mylo no, but secretly he must hate her, too, he must!
“But… it’s funny? And what does it matter anyway? It’s not like they ever work. Just useless toys.”
A wingbeat in her heart.
Powder gasps, tears pricking at her eyes.
“T-Take that back! They will, they will!”
They must, they must! She’s not useless! She’s strong, she is, she is! She has to be! If she’s weak then Vi won’t want her. Vi is strong and she’s weak, won’t need weak, weak Powder! She’ll leave her and then she’ll be all alone, alone, alone in the dark!
The door on top of the stairs opens and for but a moment, light, banishing the shadows of the room, low, low music playing in the distance -an indie piece full of Soul. The door closes behind the girl with the red hair and even redder knuckles, and the light vanishes, the music stops.
In an instant, Mylo lets go of Mouser, lets her tumble to the floor, careless and uncaring.
The meanest are the weakest, for they need to make others feel weak so that they can feel strong. And Mylo has always been the meanest to her.
Vi stops at the bottom of the stairs and takes in the scene with suspicion in her gaze.
“What’s going on here?”
And Mylo pretends that nothing ever happened, and Claggor… says nothing.
“Nothing, nothing. Powder was just showing me her new invention. A banger that one.”
And Powder… Powder can’t say anything. She wants to say something, tell them, tell them! But in this moment in time, shell-shocked -trapped.
A wingbeat in her heart.
“She did now, did she?” Still suspicious, not convinced in the slightest.
“Sure did.”
In one, two, three steps Vi closes the distance between them, crowding into his space, face to face, nose to nose.
“Are you sure about that?”
Mylo takes a step back, Vi takes a step forward, back and forward, back and forward, until his back hits the wall.
“Y-Yeah. I’m-”
She grabs him by the front of his shirt and crashes their foreheads into each other, hard. He cries out in pain and she just glares -blood down their noses.
“You better be sure about that.”
And Mylo squeaks, all cute and fun, all small and weak, just like Mouser when she goes boom!
And Vi just glares, glares and sneers. Then… she lets go of his shirt and lets him slump into the wall.
“Get your shit together, we’re heading out. You too, Claggor.”
Mylo almost trips over his feet he can’t get to the door fast enough. Claggor follows after, silently.
And then it's only them, Vi and Powder, only ever them.
Powder, who’s standing in the middle of the room, hands clutching the hem of her shirt, gnawing on her bottom lip and holding back tears. She won’t cry, won’t cry! Crying is weak and Vi doesn’t need weak!
Vi, who’s at her sister’s side in an instant, takes her face into her hands, softly and ever so gently.
“Hey, it’s okay now.” Calloused fingers brush against her cheek, wiping away the tears that she couldn’t hold back. “Don’t let him get to you.”
And the little sister hiccups and hiccups, her words a stammered mess.
“I-I’m not…”
And the big sister just hums, won’t say what they’re both thinking -careful, it’s all everyone ever is. Like she’s fragile like she’ll break, break because she’s weak!
Their foreheads touch, feather-light and not at all blood-spilling.
“Look Pow Pow… Something came up topside. Want to check it out with the boys.”
She takes her little sister's hands into hers, opens her palms and places something inside them.
Powder looks down, Mouser.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to sit this one out. Keep that little gal safe for me, yeah?”
NO! No, no, no, no! Why is she leaving?! She can’t, she can’t! Don’t leave her! Don’t!
“B-But I can be strong, too, Vi! You don’t have to leave me behind! I can be useful, I can, just-!”
“Shh-” Their hands inter-clasped, warm and safe -home.
“You already are, Pow Pow. Someone has to hold the base. Be back-up.”
“B-Back up?”
“Mhm, you’re our little ace up the sleeve.”
Ace? She can be an ace! She’s good at cards, like really good!
“I-I can do that.”
“I know you can, Pow Pow.”
Their hands unclasp, their fingers brush, slip- “I’ll be back in a blink, I promise.” -and leave. One then two then three, her sister’s form retreats up the stairs, opens the door and then… gone.
In the middle of her childhood room, little invention clutched in her hands -inventions that never quite work- with tear streaks down her cheeks, she’s left. Left behind, left in the dark.
A wingbeat in her heart.
________________________________________________________________________________
And time ticks on, its hands stopping for no one.
Time ticks on and the little girl is huddled under her bed, clutching her invention to her chest, waiting and waiting.
Time ticks on and she’s still waiting, waiting -how long must she wait?
Time ticks on and her sister still hasn’t returned -she’s done waiting.
Liar.
What might have been but a couple of hours, a lifetime for a child.
Her lips stop wobbling, bites into them instead, her brows stop dropping, furrows them instead, her hands stop protecting Mouser, start squeezing instead, start breaking.
Sorrow swallowed up by rage.
Sadness, such a useless emotion, passive and weak, it gets you nowhere.
Anger, however, now that she can use, active and strong, it will get her something.
Fuelled by newfound emotion she screams and tears and tears and tears, throwing poor little Mouser at nothing and everything, shattering into a thousand pieces.
A wingbeat in her heart.
She curls into a ball on the bed, a ball of bad, bad, and starts tearing at her hair, ripping the braid from its confinement.
So lost in her misery that she doesn’t notice the door on the top of the stairs open. So lost in her misery that she doesn’t notice the light coming in, light banishing the darkness… and the music returns -an indie piece full of Soul.
So lost in her misery that she doesn’t notice a hand reach out, fingertips brushing her shaking shoulder.
She flinches and lashes out, backhand connecting with whatever dared to approach.
The slap echoes through the darkness of the room. Their eyes meet, grey on grey, not yet decided on a colour.
Time stops and there he stands, poor, little Ekko, clutching onto his strawberry-red cheek.
“Ow! What was that for?!”
Time moves on and her rage disappears like a wingbeat on the wind.
“Ekko? W-What are you doing here?”
The boy blinks away the tears threatening to spill over, face contorted in pain.
“Great to see you, too, Powder. Real fine day this, let’s start it with hitting each other!”
“S-Sorry. I’m sorry, you just… surprised me.”
She withdraws back into herself, back turned to him. She can’t do anything right, can she?! Useless, useless, useless!
Rage had taken flight yet sorrow remains -grounded, its roots digging deep.
“Powder?” She can hear him shuffling closer, can feel him hovering. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap... shouldn’t have snuck up on you... I’m sorry.”
“’s alright.”
Go away, go away, go away! Please, go away! She’s crying, crying again and crying is weak! She doesn’t want Ekko to see her weak, must be strong, strong or else he’ll leave!
“…Pow Pow?”
No! Don’t call her that! He’s not supposed to call her that! She’ll love it and then she’ll hate it! Hate it because she’ll want him to say it always, always! And that would be needy, needy! Would be weak, weak! And then he’ll leave, he’ll leave!
“J-just go away, Ekko.”
Tears in her voice, quiet and meek.
For a few short moments, only her ragged breath thunders in her ears.
Then, she hears him move, hears him move, move away.
And Powder bites into her lip hard, too hard -blood in her mouth. W-Why is he leaving?! H-He wasn’t supposed to leave! She didn’t mean it, she didn’t! Come back! Come back!
She’s hysteric, she’s whimpering, her face a mess, a red-blotched, tear-streaked, snot-smeared mess.
A wingbeat in her heart, beat, beat, beating. Beating against her ribcage, out, out, they want out!
Why does everyone always leave?! Why?! She can’t do anything right, everything wrong, everything jinxed!
Jinx.
-something presses into her hot cheek, something cool, something hard.
H-Huh?
Her face lifts from its prison between her knees. She looks up and-
Mouser.
Mouser, her shattered pieces unshattered, put back together, made whole again.
“Why are you crying, little Pow Pow? Don’t cry, don’t cry. Mouser doesn’t want you to cry, if you cry she’ll cry.”
His voice high-pitched and squeaky, the voice of a young boy who hasn’t yet quite grown into himself, amplified.
The cool metal of her childhood toy is nuzzled into her skin, leaving paint streaks in its wake and mixing with her tears -a watercolour painting of misery.
“H-Huh?”
Ekko’s looking at her, not looking at her, red-tinged ears and shaky hands. Embarrassed but doing it anyway, doing it for her.
“Y-You can talk to Mouser about it, okay? Mouser’s a good listener, s-she can help.”
And Powder stares, stares, then blinks, blinks and laughs.
Tiny giggles bursting free, free, a butterfly stuck in her throat tumbling free, free!
“W-Why are you laughing?!”
Ekko stammers and shuffles in his seat on the bed, fiddles with the repaired Mouser, all nerves and insecurities.
She can’t stop laughing, can’t stop laughing! Butterflies, they keep tumbling, tumbling free, free!
“Because you’re silly, Ekko, you’re so silly!”
He splutters and hides his face behind Mouser. “I-I’m not!”
She giggles and shifts, their knees bumping into each other. “Are too!”
His face is flushed and his eyes can’t decide what to focus on, switching between her face and their touching legs -too close.
“A-Am not…”
And Powder lifts her hands, gently prying Mouser from the boy’s grip, their fingers brushing and their eyes locking.
“Are too…” Mouser lies in her open palm and a small smile blooms on her face, red-blotched, tear-streaked, snot-smeared.
“...Thank you, Ekko.”
Ekko gapes at her like a fish out of water, words on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spoken yet left waiting.
Confusion then… embarrassment. Instantly, her hands fly to her face, rubbing and rubbing with her gloves, smoothing over her frizzy hair, untangling the knots. Gods, she must look so ugly right now. She knows she’s not the prettiest but…
Why does she suddenly care? It’s just Ekko... Right?
“S-Stop staring!”
Broken out of his stupor, mouth closing, breath returning. “W-Was I? Sorry…”
Mouser is pressed into her chest, eyes flittering across the room, avoiding. “I-I know I’m u-ugly but you don’t have to rub it in!”
Silence. It stretches and stretches, winding her up tighter and tighter. Why isn’t he saying anything?! Should she say something?! Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. She definitely shouldn’t have said that! That was terrible, terrible, stupid, stupid!
“…You’re not.”
Her eyes snap to him, his staring a hole into the mattress, fingers fiddling with a loose thread.
“Huh?”
He blinks at her for but a second then looks away just as quickly.
“I-I don’t think you’re ugly.”
And now it’s her turn to gape like a fish out of water, uncharted territory. Is he stupid or something? She most definitely looks like shit right now.
...Is he lying? He must be lying! Lying, to make her feel better! All gentle and careful, like she needs it like she’s weak, weak!
And the anger returns.
“You’re just trying to make me feel better! I know you don’t mean it!”
“W-What?” Ekko looks at her all confused and lost, looking all the part of the small, skinny boy hiding under a bed.
“You’re lying! I’m ugly, ugly!” She throws Mouser onto the mattress, she bounces once, twice then lies still, forgotten. Difficult, she’s so difficult! No wonder everyone leaves! He should too! Just leave, leave her alone!
And her anger is met in kind.
“I’m not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Stop saying that! I’m not lying!”
“Yes, you are, yes you are! Liar! Liar-”
-hit in the face. Something hits her in the face, hits her and plops down into her lap. Petals stuck to her nose and clinging to her lips.
She splutters, shakes her head and wipes a hand over her face.
“W-What?! What was that for?!”
Hit in the face again, more petals, another flower.
“Take that!” Another one and another, there are so many…
“Stupid Powder! Stupid flowers! You’re not ugly! Stop saying I’m lying! You’re pretty! Pretty like these flowers!”
A small flower field in her lap, a sea of blue in her world of grey.
“I got them for you! They’re blue, like you! Pretty like you! So, shut up!”
Ekko’s heavy breathing fills the darkness of the room, heavy with anger. And Powder doesn’t have anything to say, not claiming he’s lying anymore, hit in the face with the truth.
Time ticks on and neither says anything, stuck in a moment, awkwardness stretching between them.
She picks at the flowers, fingers brushing over the soft texture and pushing them into her face, met with fragrance and freshness. A literal breath of fresh air in their polluted hell hole of a home.
“...Where did you get them?” No way he could afford flowers down here! They would cost a fortune!
Ekko refuses to look at her, arms crossed in front of his chest, sulking.
“Found them.”
Flower stuck in her mouth, petals between her teeth, talking through a mouth full. “Where?”
The boy looks at her, dumbfounded. “…What are you doing?!”
She munches on the flower, chews and chews then swallows.
“Taking a bite. They looked tasty.”
He looks horrified as he watches the flower disappear. “You’re not supposed to eat them!”
She takes another flower- “Why not?” -he slaps it out of her hand. “Stop that! That’s not what they’re for!”
“Says who?”
“Says I!” She makes to grab another flower. “Oh my god, stop! Give me that!” He fumbles about, collecting the flowers from her lap and pressing the bundle against his chest, out of her reach.
The girl just pouts, tear-swollen eyes, big and innocent. “Meanie.”
Her bottom lip wobbles and she makes grabby-grabby hands at him. “Gimme.”
For a second Ekko’s resolve falters, fooled by those big, beautiful eyes, but then he steels himself.
“No! Who knows what they’ll do to you!”
The horror returns to his face.
“Oh my god, what if they’re poisonous?! What if you’re gonna die?! What if I killed you?! Oh me gosh, oh me gosh, come here! Spit them out, right now!”
Fingers pry at her mouth, trying to force it open, make her spit them out, up and out.
“Ekko~ stop that!”
“Vander’s gonna kill me!” He squeaks, eyes wide and fearful.
“Vi is definitely gonna kill me. I’m too young to die! There’s so much I haven’t done, yet! I haven’t finished work on that hoverboard prototype! Benzo’s gonna drown in work without me! Mum will be so mad, she’ll ground me forever! Forever! I haven’t even kissed a girl, yet! I can’t die unkissed!”
Honestly, it’s kind of fun watching him have a meltdown. Ekko’s always so silly. Always knows how to make her laugh.
But what was that about kissing?
“Why would you want to be kissed?” Eww, the thought alone sends shivers down her spine. That'd be so disgusting, wouldn’t it? All spit and teeth. Who’d want that?
Ekko freezes, finger stuck between her teeth -she’s nibbling on it, he quickly removes it and wipes it on his pants.
“W-What?”
“Why would you want to be kissed? That’s so yucky!”
He looks at her all strange then like he’s in pain or something. Maybe it’s his belly that’s all messed up, not hers.
“Y-Yeah… yucky” A laugh, forced and wrong, fingers tearing at the flowers and ripping out the petals, one by one, as if counting. “W-Who’d want to be kissed? T-That’s disgusting, am I right?… Totally disgusting...”
His shoulders slump and he withdraws into himself, his grip on the flowers limp.
Is she missing something? She feels like she’s missing something. Ekko’s only about a year older than her and he always tells her that doesn’t make him better, smarter… but maybe he’s wrong. Maybe there are things he knows that she doesn’t?
She hates that, hates that she’s left out, left behind.
She often sees the adults face-sucking, so maybe it isn’t as yucky as she thinks. There has to be more to it, no? Why would they do it otherwise? Maybe she just doesn’t understand because she’s never done it? Or maybe they’re just weird like that.
She must find out, like right now!
“So… why do you wanna be kissed? You didn’t answer the question.”
He’s playing with the ripped-out petals, ripping them into even tinier pieces, gaze fixed on them. His answer is mumbled and incomprehensible.
She strains her ears and shuffles closer.
“Hmm?”
Ekko sighs, deep and long, the petals falling from his grasp. “…Might feel good, ya know?”
Powder tilts her head, contemplating.
“Maybe?”
Suddenly, his eyes widen, remembered something. He looks at her, excitement in his voice.
“I saw Vi do it with a girl behind The Last Drop the other day! Kiss, I mean.”
A sudden flare of jealousy bubbles forth inside her. Vi is spending time with other people?! Without her?! People she doesn’t know?!
“If Vi does it… then it must be good, right?”
She nods her head, agreeing. Vi would know.
And just as quickly as the excitement overtook him, it leaves him again, fidgeting once more.
Silence. Awkward, everything is so awkward today.
“…Do you wanna kiss girls behind The Last Drop?”
Does she? Never thought about it, to be honest. Why would she want to kiss girls? Is that something you just do? Is she supposed to want that?!
He’s looking at her all strange again. She doesn’t have petals stuck to her mouth, right? She rubs at it vigorously.
“W-What?! N-No, of course not!… Not behind The Last Drop.” The last part mumbled.
Guess she wouldn’t, either. Not very clean, not very private. Kissing is something you do in private, right? The thought of someone watching her do that fills her with sudden dread. What if she sucks at kissing and then they’ll judge her? Laugh at her? No, no, no. Best do it in complete darkness.
“So, you wanna kiss girls but not behind The Last Drop?”
“It’s not like I’d want to kiss just any girl!” He’s serious, all of a sudden. Like he wants her to know that like it’s important.
“No?”
Kissing a complete stranger might be awkward, she supposes. And why would you want that, anyway? Isn’t kissing something you do with someone you like? How can you like someone you just met? Is she missing something again? Or are people just that weird?
“No.”
“It has to be a specific girl then?” He nods.
There it is again, that jealousy, but this time for completely different reasons, she doesn’t quite understand why though.
“Do I... know her?”
His reaction silence, his face deadpan, as if she said something incredibly stupid. His head drops into his hands, fingers rubbing at his temples, a headache forming.
What?! What did she say?! She’s definitely missing something! Someone just tell her then!
“Powder…” He’s saying it all weird, like he’s talking to a child. He’s not that much older, he’s also just a kid!
“Do you want to kiss boys?”
She stares at him, he stares back, neither blinks, afraid of what will happen if they do.
“I… don’t know? This is the first I’ve thought about it, honestly.”
“Hmm... okay, could be worse.”
“What do you mean “could be worse”?!
“I mean, it’s kind of reassuring… Also kinda not.”
She’s getting tired of this, all this dancing around the topic. Always made to feel stupid just because she’s still young. Everyone pushing her around and treating her like something fragile, something weak. And maybe she is weak around the others, maybe she is scared to speak and stand up for herself. They’re bigger and older and apparently smarter, knowing things she doesn’t even know she doesn’t know. But not now, not now. Not with Ekko, never with him. He makes her feel brave, makes her feel like an equal because they are, they’re the same.
“Ekko.” Brave, be brave.
She reaches for his hand and lets hers rest on top. His eyes snap to it like she’s burning him alive. Brave, be brave.
Their eyes meet and he’s looking scared all of a sudden. She can do this, she can be brave.
“Do you… want to kiss me?”
His breath catches, his mouth opens in surprise and his eyes widen, the fear intensifies. She never knew she could be this scary, always thought of herself to be more of a mouse, but maybe she could be a cat for a change.
“W-What?”
Yet her confidence starts to crack, uncertainty creeping in. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all… No! No. Be the cat, the cat!
“You said you wanted to kiss a girl, but not just any girl… and well, I’m a girl, so…”
He chuckles, yet there is nothing funny about this -all nerves, all nerves.
“A-Are you... offering yourself?”
“I mean… I’m curious, too.”
He shifts and flips his hand, taking hers into his palm. It’s bigger than hers, darker… and sweaty. But that’s alright, so is hers.
“Y-You sure?”
“Nope.” She really isn’t. What if this is a terrible idea? What if she hates it? What if he hates it? What if it makes things weird?
“Powder… You have to be sure.” He’s moved closer, their knees touching on the bed, his eyes holding hers and refusing to break.
“I… I’m not sure… about the kissing, but…” She’s playing with his fingers, squeezing and unsqueezing.
“I’m sure about it being you.”
She can hear him gasp and feel his grip tighten. And suddenly, he doesn’t look so afraid anymore, assured.
Everything moves too fast after that, moves too slow. His body is shuffling closer, his face moving in, his eyes closing.
Oh… Oh! She doesn’t feel all that much like a cat anymore, very much a mouse. He’s so close! She could count his lashes from here.
Oh, this is actually really scary! What is she supposed to do with herself? Close her eyes, too? Maybe that’ll help.
The world turns dark and she does feel a bit braver, a bit less scary when she can’t see what’s about to happen.
She can feel his breath hit her face, can feel the warmth radiating from his body, their hands interlocked.
Her eyes are squeezed shut and her breath uneven, trembling, shivers running up and down her spine.
This is terrifying.
“Powder.”
Oh, that’s right. It’s Ekko, it’s just Ekko. That does make her feel a bit better, yet also somehow worse. It’s Ekko!
Her bestest of friends, her only real friend, through thick and thin. Nothing could break them apart, not even stupid kisses!
But before she can further contemplate the depth of her feelings towards the boy, a brush of a touch against her lips.
Feather-light and barely there, a tentative press against her mouth. Soft and… wet. Huh, is that all? She somehow expected more. Maybe they’re doing it wrong or-
A hand comes to rest on her shoulder, brushing against her loose hair and drawing her in. Their noses bump and his head tilts, lashes fluttering against her warm skin like little wings.
A wingbeat in her heart. A cocoon breaking open.
His breath puff, puffs against her lips and she can taste something fruity, like the juice from the bar -apples?
Her mouth parts ever so slightly and his lips press into hers with more confidence. Pressing then moving, gentle and careful. And for once she doesn’t mind, instead of feeling weak… feeling precious, afraid to break her not because she’s weak but because he’s afraid he’ll lose her. And the girl with the blue hair and choppy bangs can relate to that, can she ever.
She feels like she should be doing something, too. So, she presses back and leans into him, their lips moving in a slow, slow dance, chaste and unpractised. But she doesn’t mind, likes it, makes her feel special. They can learn together.
She doesn’t know how long they sit there on that bed, lips locked in innocent curiosity. She knows that it ends all too soon, that she’d rather not stop, keep going.
When their kiss breaks and their eyes open, she can feel that something has changed, that they’ve done something they can never take back, a memory stuck inside their hearts forever.
Grey looks upon grey -they’ll soon have to choose a colour, or life will choose for them. She still doesn’t quite understand what’s so great about kissing, they haven’t even scratched the surface. And yet, she didn’t hate it, was rather nice, would like to try again sometime. She hopes he does, too.
They sit there in that childhood room, that place stuck in the past and together they wait, wait for life to finally start.
The others might think her weak, Vi might’ve left without her but at least Ekko is still there. He will always be there for her, she believes it, she knows it.
A butterfly alive in her heart, its wings beating against the winds of change.