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“Babe? You ready for our date?”
Squinting the darkness, clad in a fashionable crop top and shorts that may as well have been painted on, Adolyn tried to spy more of her girlfriend than just a lump under blankets.
The lump squirmed, and a groan emerged. “That’s… today?”
Frowning, Adolyn crossed the room, stepping around discarded takeout containers and dirty clothing, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Choosing her words carefully, she finally asked, “Dysphoria?” Adolyn did voice training, and the time she’d put into made her voice smooth and traditionally feminine.
Dark eyes peaked out from the edge of the blanket, paired with the sort of wavy black curls that Adolyn knew many women would kill for. There were bags beneath Kal’s eyes, but no signs she’d been crying. “No… or at least, not just that…” The girl’s husky voice sounded empty, hollow. “I can’t get up. Can’t shave. Wasn’t… wasn’t transitioning supposed to help?” By the end, her voice was almost a whimper.
“…” Unsure what to say, Adolyn felt her hands moving before she’d thought it through. She peeled back Kal’s black comforter, revealing the whole of her severe, frowning face. Sure enough, as she’d said, Kal’s face was covered in rough whiskers, and she flinched under Adolyn’s gaze.
“Sorry…” Her voice croaked, and only now did tears start to well up in the corners of her eyes. “I’m such a mess. Don’t know how you put up with it.”
Then, as though it was the easiest thing in the world, Adolyn leaned in and kissed her girlfriend.
Nothing long or deep or passionate, though she was certainly tempted to make it any of those things. No, Adolyn kissed her with lazy satisfaction, before whispering, “I don’t ‘put up’ with anything. I love you. Now make some room, let’s have our date.”
Maybe an afternoon spend cuddling and talking and crying wasn’t most people’s idea of a perfect date, but Adolyn didn’t care.
She was by Kal’s side. That was enough.