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As far back as she could remember, Pomni had really never liked being touched.
She could recall moments from when she was a little kid, being dragged to family get-togethers and being hugged and kissed on the cheek by grandparents and aunts and uncles whom she could no longer clearly put a face to. But she did distinctly remember the nearly unbearable discomfort of being squeezed and smooched and pinched at by the members of her own family, how it left a prickly sensation crawling across her flesh that she could only describe at the time as “icky.” It wasn’t just the typical childish aversion to physical affection either—she completely froze up and squirmed in response to it, and the lingering phantom sensation would leave her itching and scratching at herself long after the embrace had ended. And it wasn’t just with her family, either. Anyone’s touch was enough to render her stiff and leave her feeling gross and itchy afterward, if it was unprompted—a surprise hug, an unexpected clap on the back, a handshake or a high-five that caught her off guard—and she hated it. She could never explain to her family just how awful it made her feel, and everyone just assumed it was some weird and vaguely rude phase that she would grow out of. She’d fervently hoped that they were right this time, because it was a miserable existence and she didn’t know what else to do about it, not when everyone just branded her as “weird” for not liking hugs.
But she didn’t outgrow it. If anything, it got worse as she got older. She just became better at hiding it. A strained smile in response to a hand resting a little too long on her shoulder, a carefully practiced pat on the back in response to a hug, maintaining eye contact during a handshake because it gave her something else to focus on that was as equally hard for her as letting someone else’s hand touch her own. All of these were behaviors that she’d learned to be “normal” over the course of her life, the reactions she was expected to give if she wanted to avoid judgemental glances and whispered comments uttered when it was believed she wouldn’t hear them.
...But even if she pretended to be fine, none of it erased the burning, insufferable itch that ravaged Pomni’s flesh like a thousand microscopic needles stabbing her all at once, so bad and actually painful it made her want to claw her own skin off.
She hated it, loathed herself for being born this way, for being so... abnormal. No one else she knew seemed to have such a problem with hugs and casual touches, so why did it make her feel like scrubbing raw every last inch of herself that had been so much as grazed? Why did it make her body feel like it was on fire, like she was suffocating? And why did people make her feel like it was all just in her head? She hadn’t asked to be born this way. She didn’t like that what brought comfort and a sense of human connection to so many others made her stomach twist. Sometimes she even wanted physical affection...to be cradled close and have her hair gently stroked when she was under the weather, to have her hand held and squeezed as she was being assured everything would be okay...and it left a deep, hollow ache in her chest that even if her heart craved it, that didn’t mean her body would so readily receive it. The mind was a fickle thing when it came to what it wanted versus what it could actually handle. That went double when said mind was a frazzled, jangled mess of nerves and precariously threaded-together memories of everything that had made her the way she was for the past twenty-five years, for better or worse.
She just wanted something to be easy for her, for once. She just wanted to be normal. Even if she was currently as far removed from any semblance of normalcy as one could possibly get.
And that, in and of itself, posed a whole new set of problems for the anxiety-ridden little jester. It was hard enough trying to adjust to her new life in the Digital Circus, from the harrowing daily adventures to the eccentric cast of characters she now called her family to the oversaturated colors constantly searing her retinas and contributing to near-daily headaches. But then there was the irritating little fact that no one here—namely, Caine and Jax—seemed to have any comprehension of the term “personal space,” because she found herself getting touched and pushed and pulled around far beyond what she was moderately comfortable with.
She understood why Caine might not get it, being an AI whose knowledge of the human experience was limited to whatever he could pull up within his database when prompted, so she was inclined to give him a little leeway whenever he jovially threw an arm around her shoulders or grabbed her by the arm to transport her somewhere else on the circus grounds, even if it made her skin prickle. She knew he really didn’t mean any harm, despite her lack of total trust in him. But Jax...he was another story, and he frequently put Pomni on edge whenever he encroached on her space. Because he did seem to notice the way it made her squirm, to have him flick her on the forehead or sling an arm casually around her or poke her in the face. Anyone would’ve been agitated by such behavior, but for her, it genuinely made her feel like her skin was melting off and her insides were being scraped out. And he seemed to find it fun, watching her slip quietly out of his grasp or shoot him a sharp look as she crossed her arms protectively over herself. She had no qualms about telling him off under any other circumstance, but for some reason, in these instances it was like her mouth had been glued shut and she couldn’t bring herself to bark at anyone to back off. Why was that…?
She didn’t know. Only that she had always been that way, and she detested herself for it. But she continued to silently endure it.
...Until she finally reached a breaking point.
Pomni didn’t even know what, specifically, had triggered her that day. It had been a pretty ordinary day up until that point. The cast had woken up, had breakfast, and gone through the theme song as directed by Caine, as usual. Then they’d stood around on the stage, awaiting further instructions, chatting among themselves for the time being. Pomni was hanging around Ragatha and Gangle, the two she’s become closest to in the circus and considered to be her friends at this point.
She was in the middle of listening to Gangle describe a favorite anime of hers—in excruciating detail—when she felt someone tap her right shoulder. She jumped, startled, and whipped her head to the right only to find no one there. She then turned to the left...and nearly stumbled backwards when she found Jax leaning a little too close into her space, a sly smirk spread wide across his face.
“Made ya look, pipsqueak,” he snickered, a mischievous glint in his eyes that she didn’t trust one bit.
Pomni frowned, opening her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. It didn’t matter, anyway. Before she could even think of anything Jax had risen back to his full height and sauntered away—though not before “accidentally” bumping into Gangle, sending her sprawling and her comedy mask slipping to the floor with a heart-wrenching shatter.
“Oh, no, already?” Gangle whimpered, sniffling, frantically gathering the pieces of her broken mask.
Pomni knelt down to help her, passing her a couple shards of ceramic that had skittered out of her reach, still feeling the itch from where he’d poked her shoulder seconds again. “I’m sorry...Jax is just a jerk, I don’t know why he gets so much pleasure out of tormenting everyone else.”
“He’s always been like that…” Gangle sniffed again, wiping at the fat tears permanently rolling down the cheeks of her tragedy mask. “I’ve never even done anything to him, so why does he pick on me?”
“Because he wants to feel more powerful than someone, probably. And apparently the easiest way to do that is by breaking your mask because he knows how vulnerable you feel without it. You know, like a bully.” Pomni carefully placed the mask shards in Gangle’s ribbon arms, trying to offer a smile, even as she resisted the urge to scratch and scratch and scratch her own shoulder. “Just ignore him. He’s immature, and he’ll never learn any better, so it’s hardly worth wasting the energy on. Let’s just try to get through the day together. I’ll help you fix your mask later on tonight, okay?”
Gangle flicked an uncertain gaze in Jax’s direction, where he now seemed to be harassing Zooble for his own entertainment. But then she drew in a deep breath, let it go slowly, and cracked the smallest smile back through her tears. “I’ll...I’ll try. Thank you, Pomni.”
Pomni was about to reply, but in that instant Caine appeared before them in a burst of confetti, already rambling excitedly a mile a minute about the day’s events. Everyone at least partially paid attention as he prattled on.
Today was a “performance day,” which meant that in lieu of a typical adventure, they’d be rehearsing various acts and then putting on a show for an audience of mannequins. While Pomni appreciated the reprieve from the normally hectic adventures, sometimes the acts they were expected to perform were just as taxing and scary as any wild outing Caine could concoct. She’d learned to hold her breath until she knew exactly what she was getting into. And today was no exception, especially once she heard Caine’s assignment for her.
“...And Pomni, my jaunty little jester!” Caine bellowed enthusiastically, floating down right beside Pomni and flinging an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side. “Today, I have you down to perform the knife-throwing act that we practiced before. Sounds fantastic, doesn’t it?”
“O-oh…” Pomni flinched, tensing up as much by Caine’s words as at the unwelcome grip currently squeezing her. “Um, I really don’t feel safe with–”
“Worry not, my dear!” Caine patted her shoulder in a gesture that was meant to be reassuring, even though it only made Pomni cringe inwardly and restrain from physically recoiling at each unwanted pat. “I sensed your trepidation last time we did this routine together, so I arranged for you to have a different partner this time! Today you’ll be working with our good friend Jax!”
Pomni gulped, her stomach going ice-cold. “What?!”
“No need to thank me! I’m sure you’ll both do a magnificent job, just be sure to hold still this time!” Caine finally relinquished his hold on her, though her skin still felt too hot where he’d grabbed her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go brush my teeth! From what I understand, you humans seem to enjoy doing that as much as drinking water! Not sure I see the appeal myself, nor do I know how to keep the toothpaste from getting into my eyes, but…oh well! Goodbye for now, then!”
“But why would you–?” Pomni started, but it was too late. With a snap of his fingers, Caine vanished as suddenly as he had appeared.
Just then, Pomni felt someone trace their fingers along her back, trailing up the length of her spine–the unexpected sensation sending an unpleasant shiver rippling through her whole body. She heard a sly snicker, and she gritted her teeth, knowing without even turning around that it was Jax.
“Well, ain’t this gonna be fun?” Jax quipped, and the taunting lilt to his voice made Pomni feel instantly sick. “Don’t worry, Pom-Pom, I’ve got great aim–I never miss my target. Not even the short, puny, jester-shaped ones.”
Pomni swallowed hard, turning around to glare fiercely at Jax and shake her head. “Nope, no way, I am not doing that routine with you. I already told Caine I never wanted another knife thrown at my face again after the last time, and he can’t force me to now, either. Especially not by you. ”
“C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?” Jax threw an arm casually around Pomni’s shoulders, just the way Caine had done moments ago, bestowing a wicked grin upon her. “It’s not like we can die here, worst thing I could do is accidentally slice a limb off. It’ll regrow in a day or two. And you don’t want to disappoint the audience by not giving them a spectacular show, right–and what could be more entertaining than a little dismemberment?”
Pomni heard Jax’s voice ringing in her ears, but she could barely make out the words above the loud hum crowding her own brain the longer he kept his hand on her. She could feel her skin burning burning burning, the increasing urge to scratch and tear at her own flesh suddenly overwhelming every other sense. He was leaning in so close that she could feel his warm breath brushing against her cheek, and it made her stomach clench, her heart racing twice as fast as it should.
She didn’t feel safe.
Why did she feel so unsafe?
“L-let go of me,” she croaked out, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth.
“Aw, what’s that?” Jax teased, his tone anything but playful as he instead pulled Pomni into a tighter embrace, bringing his other hand up to pinch her blush-adorned cheek. An anxious whimper escaped her before she could stop it. “You want me to let you go? Why, don’t you like getting a nice big hug from a friend? Hey, maybe I should squeeze you even tighter, see if you squeak like a chew toy! Ya already look like one, huh?”
A cold, clammy sweat broke out across Pomni’s skin as Jax stretched her cheek out like a rubber band, tears of pain stinging her eyes as she gritted her teeth. Jax’s fingers dug too hard into her shoulder, setting her entire arm ablaze, her whole body trembling at this point. But it was more than just her mounting panic wringing out her lungs until she could scarcely breath and tightening like a coil around her rapidly beating heart. Something much sharper, much hotter, simmered in her gut and pumped through her veins…and when at last she opened her mouth again, it was that anger that spewed out like lava, an uncontrolled rush that took even her aback.
“I said, let go!” Pomni snapped, wrenching herself forcefully out of Jax’s grip and taking several staggering steps away from him.
Her voice had come out louder than intended, drawing surprised looks from the rest of the circus members. Ragatha and Gangle looked concerned, Kinger looked confused, and Zooble looked somewhat amused, all of them watching her a little too intently.
Jax blinked, clearly surprised, as if she’d slapped him instead. But then he shook it off, his usual smarmy grin returning.
“Sheesh, pipsqueak, I didn’t know you had so much bite in ya.” He snickered. “I’m just messing with you, what’s your problem?”
“A little thing called personal space, Jax–ever heard of it?” Pomni shot back, narrowing her eyes at the purple rabbit. “Or do you just not care at all about respecting anyone’s boundaries? Even when they blatantly ask you to?”
“Aw, don’t get your dorky little hat in a twist over it.” Jax shrugged, faking a yawn. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m like that with everyone, it’s not like you’re special. Same reason I have a key to everyone’s rooms here, I’m an equal-opportunity prankster. Oh, by the way, hope ya like scorpions. No particular reason.”
Pomni only glared at Jax, her chest heaving as she drew in shaky breaths, heart still pounding wildly like a caged animal trying to burst through her ribs. She rubbed her shoulder, still feeling his hand there, fiery and prickly and painful. She was acutely aware of the weight of everyone else’s gazes boring questioningly down on her, the adrenaline quickly seeping out of her and replacing itself with abject mortification that twisted her stomach and made her want to run. But bolting out of the room after such an outburst would only make her look worse, wouldn’t it? Her head spun, pins and needles spreading down her arms and legs as the heat of embarrassment rose in her face.
“Just…j-just leave me alone, okay?” Pomni finally responded, trying to keep her tone firm but hating how she couldn’t conceal the sudden tremor in her voice. “Quit touching me. I am not doing this routine with you either, so go look for some other jester-shaped target to hurl your knives at.”
With that, Pomni turned on her heel and stalked toward the stairs at the edge of the stage, refusing to look behind her again. She felt dangerously close to coming undone, and if she glanced back and saw Jax smirking at her so condescendingly she knew she would shatter. She hated that she let him have so much power over her at that moment.
So much for following my own advice and ignoring him. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, now everyone else is staring at me...god, what are they thinking about me right now? I don’t even want to know…
“Pomni…?” Ragatha reached a gentle hand toward Pomni as she passed by, but quickly retracted it when Pomni winced and drew back, wrapping her arms around herself. “Oh, um...are you okay, sweetie…?”
“I n-need to sit down. Just for a few minutes.” Pomni couldn’t even bring herself to make eye contact with Ragatha, who no doubt was watching her with a worried expression. She’d only crumble apart faster if she saw that. She picked up her pace, hugging herself more tightly, like it was the only thing keeping herself together.
She stepped off the stage and down the aisle between the rows of currently empty seats, nearly tripping over her own two feet in her haste. She reached the last row of seats and collapsed into one, her legs trembling so much she feared her knees would buckle beneath her if she attempted to walk any farther. At least the auditorium was so massive that no one could easily see or hear her from the stage. She kept her gaze cast down, not wanting to watch any of them right now either.
She was aware that her heart was still racing too fast, her breathing still too choppy. She made herself take a few deep, measured breaths, trying to quell her panic attack before it spiraled into something worse.
….She didn’t even realize at first that she was roughly raking her fingertips up and down the length of her arms, until she started scratching desperately, almost manically, at her shoulder. Her skin burned, in a way that penetrated through the layers of muscle and tissue, striking bone and setting every nerve on fire.
She scratched harder and harder, but felt no relief. The stupid gloves permanently affixed to her hands prevented her fingernails from doing any damage. She wasn’t even sure she had fingernails underneath anymore. But the itch was maddening. She needed to scratch, she needed to claw at her skin until she left deep scarlet grooves marring her milk-white flesh, until she felt assured that every last trace of his touch had been scraped away.
Needed, needed, needed…
“Um...hey, Pomni…?”
Pomni froze, jerking her head up at the sound of a timid voice cutting through her frenzied thoughts. She looked up in time to see Gangle flinch slightly and shrink back, clearly startled by Pomni’s abrupt movement.
“Oh...Gangle, sorry...sorry if I scared you.” Pomni wrapped her arms around herself and hunched over a little in her seat, pulling in one last, steadying breath. “I...I didn’t expect to see you there…”
“It’s okay...I’m sorry if I snuck up on you.” Gangle shifted awkwardly in place, wringing her ribbon hands. “Um, can I sit down next to you?”
“Yeah...sure.”
Gangle sank into the seat next to Pomni, and for a few long seconds, neither of them said anything. Pomni dug her fingertips hard into her sides, fighting the urge to keep scratching, useless as it had been in alleviating the itch.
“...Ragatha really let Jax have it,” Gangle began, cutting a quick glance in Pomni’s direction. “She told him off for always picking on you when you tell him to stop. Jax started laughing at her, until Zooble sort of strangled him. So he’ll probably leave you alone for the rest of the day.”
Pomni groaned to herself. “Ragatha probably should have stayed out of it, really...I know she meant well, but now Jax will probably just taunt me for being too much of a baby to defend myself. I know what he’s like.” She sank lower into her seat. “And everyone else probably thinks I’m nuts for snapping like that over nothing...I mean, nothing more than his usual antics. And here I am telling you to just ignore him, then two minutes later nearly biting his hand just to get him to back off.”
“But you do defend yourself against him...you don’t let him walk all over you, the way I do. You actually tell him to knock it off.” Gangle rubbed at her cheek. “You just needed to step away today, that doesn’t make you a baby. And no one thinks you’re...you know, nuts. Jax was kind of asking for it, we’re on your side here. You didn’t do anything extreme.”
“Well, I feel like I did...I just can’t stand him sometimes.” Pomni balled her hands into fists, remembering his fingers crawling up her spine, pinching her cheek...she shuddered to herself, willing it away. “But...thank you.”
“Yeah.” Gangle went quiet, but Pomni sensed that there was more she wanted to say. Finally, she ventured hesitantly, “Can I...can I ask you something, Pomni?”
“Um...okay.”
“W-well…it’s just, I had noticed this, and if I’m wrong or it’s too personal just tell me and I’ll stop, but…” Gangle paused uncertainly, glancing back at Pomni one more time, before finally daring to ask, “You…really don’t like being touched, do you?”
At first, Pomni could only blink at her, unsure how to respond. She felt… caught, somehow, in a way she couldn’t describe. But the way Gangle was watching her, with genuine worry reflected in her hollow eyes, made Pomni stop and take stock of the situation. She wasn’t being accused of anything, she was being asked a sincere question by someone who cared. And she had nothing to feel guilty about here, anyway.
“...Is it really that obvious to everyone?” Pomni asked quietly, too tired to deny it any longer.
“Oh, um…! I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” Gangle rushed to say, flailing her hands anxiously. “I don’t think everyone has noticed, necessarily…but, um, I think Jax has picked up on it, which is why he likes to get in your face, just to bug you. He’s pretty good at targeting the specific things that he knows will bother someone and using it to torment them. It’s really not just you, he’s just always been that way with everyone. But…I noticed it with Caine, too, and with others. The way you sort of flinch and tense up when someone moves too close or touches you, almost like you’re kind of…scared?” Her voice rose in a question at the end, like she didn’t want to assume anything.
Pomni drew in a slow breath, exhaling it slowly, as she figured out how to word what she wanted to say.
“Yeah…I mean, you kind of pinpointed it without even trying. I don’t like being touched. I sort of…hate it, actually.” It felt oddly freeing to finally tell someone here, even if it was someone she hadn’t expected to open herself up to. “I’ve never known how to explain it. I’ve been this way since I was a little kid. I’ve really never liked being hugged or anything, not even by family…not unless I was asked first, or if I wanted it. Because sometimes I do like to be touched, sometimes I do want to be hugged or held. But most of the time it just doesn’t feel good to me. Something about it has just always makes me… twitchy. It makes me feel like my skin is on fire, and that feeling stays with me long after the other person has taken their hands off me.” She shifted positions then, drawing her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees. “Does that sound weird to you?”
“No…no, that doesn’t sound weird,” Gangle replied. “Everyone has things they aren’t comfortable with, that just happens to be yours. A lot of people don’t like to be touched when they aren’t expecting it, or otherwise. I think it’s pretty normal to keep your guard up and want to have your personal space, honestly.”
“That’s nice of you to say, but I don’t think it’s to a normal degree for me…I don’t think it’s healthy that sometimes I want to peel my own skin off after someone touches me a little too long.” Pomni winced at her choice of words, remembering that Gangle was a little more on the sensitive side. “Sorry…that’s a little graphic, but it’s the truth. And I’ve been made to feel more than once like there’s something wrong with me for it, like it’s my fault. But I can’t help it, I can’t control it if it makes me feel gross or panicky or bad. And the thing is, I hate being this way, I hate that it actually hurts sometimes, that even when I want to be touched I can’t always stomach it. And sometimes I feel like I should be able to, like…if I try hard enough I can, I don’t know, fix myself. Train myself to like it. But I have tried, and it only made everything, well… worse.”
Gangle was quiet for a moment, and Pomni felt a quick stab of worry that she’d said too much, made herself look worse. But finally, Gangle asked gently, “Do you…want to talk about it?”
“I...um.” Pomni attempted to clear her throat, but couldn’t entirely cough up the lump that had lodged itself there. “I just...I would try to convince myself I was okay with it, with being touched. I guess I was trying to see it as exposure therapy, or something, but it was really just me not setting any boundaries because I didn’t want people to have a certain impression of me. I trained myself to accept it, to just act like it wasn’t making me feel sick inside or like I had bugs creeping along my skin...I tried to mimic the behaviors of everyone else around me, because I thought that’s what everyone wanted out of me. But sometimes that led me to get...taken advantage of, let myself get stepped on and mistreated because I didn’t want to say I couldn’t stand it otherwise. It made me feel used. I’m not proud of myself for that, or how much worse I’ve gotten because of it. It was all so stupid of me, that part of it really was my fault.”
Pomni’s voice grew husky then, her throat tight. She didn’t know what else to say, or if she even wanted to.
The silence that followed nearly suffocated Pomni with its weight. She was afraid to meet Gangle’s gaze, to see the look of pity or disgust or whatever expression she might be wearing that would make Pomni’s stomach heave to see. Gangle hadn’t needed to hear all that, she’d only wanted to check on her, and now she was getting an earful of her trauma...she should just backtrack and try to brush it all off as nothing now, but it felt too late to sweep it all back under the rug, the way she’d been doing all her life.
But finally, Gangle spoke again.
“Pomni...that wasn’t stupid of you,” she said slowly, softly. “I know you regret it, and I’m sorry...I’m sorry anyone ever hurt you because you tried to just be who you thought they wanted you to be. But we all do things we wished we could take back, that doesn’t mean you’re stupid. Maybe you made a mistake, but you can’t blame yourself for it...no one should have ever tried to treat you that way to begin with, that shouldn’t have anything to do with what you did or didn’t do to stop it. It shouldn’t have happened at all. You know that, right?”
“I...yeah, I do. I do know.” Pomni’s breath wavered as she inhaled, then let it go in a long sigh. “But I still could have done more to protect myself. I knew how awful it made me feel, I just didn’t know how to get myself out of it, until I finally just... snapped. Like I did today. Which isn’t really the best way to communicate anything.”
“No...I guess it isn’t,” Gangle conceded, after a moment. “But sometimes it’s hard to not do that…to not just let it build up until it reaches a breaking point. I, um…I’ve been in similar situations to that, too. Of not speaking up in my own defense because it just seemed easier to be agreeable and do whatever everyone else wanted, even if I didn’t like it. I…I still do that most of the time, to be honest. And I hate it…I hate myself for not having a strong enough spine to stick up for myself more often. I end up letting you or Ragatha or Zooble do it for me a lot. But um…that wasn’t the point I was trying to make. What I wanted to say is, I get it, I know how horrible it feels to let yourself get pushed around and messed with because it seemed better than saying how you really felt, to let yourself feel… used. And I’m sorry. I wish you didn’t have to feel that way, too.”
As Gangle spoke, absently wringing her hands, Pomni took a few more calming breaths and straightened up a little in her seat. She’d realized that, in the course of their conversation, that horrible white-hot sensation had faded, and that her heart rate had slowed back to a normal, steady pace. She felt better, having finally told someone the truth, someone she hadn’t expected to have such an important heart-to-heart with. But Gangle was sweet and a good listener, and Pomni trusted her, now that they’d gotten much closer in her short time so far in the circus. And although it made Pomni’s chest ache to know that Gangle understood on any personal level what she’d been through, it made her feel less alone. At least they knew they had each other in this, and that was something precious and valuable to have in a place where they’d had almost everything else stripped away from them.
“Thank you, Gangle…I wish you’d never had to feel this way, too. I’m sorry.” She gave an empty, mirthless little laugh. “It’s pretty horrible, isn’t it?”
“Yeah…it is.” Gangle nodded slowly. “But…I’m glad you finally told Jax off about it. Maybe he’ll finally back off a little.”
“I doubt it…but maybe it’s time I tried to set some firmer boundaries, myself,” Pomni replied. “I’m guessing it’ll take more than one ‘back off’ to make him actually listen to me when all he sees me as is a silly little toy otherwise. But I have to at least try…if I’m going to have to live with him here, I need to. I think it’s long overdue for me, period.”
Gangle nodded again. “You know…I know it’s hard to talk about it, but I think you should tell everyone else, too. You shouldn’t have to put up with anyone getting in your space and making you anxious, but they can’t watch out for that if they aren’t aware.”
“Yeah…maybe I will. Or I’ll at least tell Ragatha too, because I know she’ll care and not make me feel weird about it.” Pomni managed to work up a small smile. “And, thanks again…thank you for checking on me. I feel a lot better. Also…I don’t think it’s fair to yourself to say you don’t have a spine. I think you’re stronger than you think you are, and really kind. You just need to work a little on finding your voice…maybe we can both work on that, together.”
“I…I would really like that.” Despite her soft-spoken tone and the big tears that perpetually clung to the corners of her eyes, Gangle’s smile back seemed real. “Thank you, too…it’s nice to have someone who understands, who actually listens. I…don’t want to say I’m glad you’re here, because that’s not quite right, but…I’m glad we can be friends, as long as we’re both here.”
At that, Pomni’s little smile relaxed into something more genuine, and she meant it with her whole heart as she replied, “I’m glad, too.”
“Hey! Ribbons! Pipsqueak!” Just then Jax’s obnoxious voice rang out across the auditorium, as he took a few steps up the middle aisle of seats and waved to get their attention. “You coming back anytime today? We got a show to put on, ya know!”
“Like he actually cares about pulling his weight here.” Pomni stiffened suddenly at the sound of Jax’s voice, dread sinking her stomach at the acknowledgement that she really couldn’t avoid him much longer. “I don’t care what Caine wants, I am not doing that knife routine with him. I’d rather end the day with all my limbs attached, thanks.”
“I don’t want to do my routine, either…Caine wants to shoot me out of a cannon. Again.” Gangle sniffled. “Last time I ended up tangled in so many knots it took a whole week to undo them all.”
“Ouch.” Pomni grimaced, trying to picture that. It sure wasn’t a pretty mental image. “Well…I guess we’ll just have to figure it out. Here, are you ready?”
Pomni stood up then, extending a hand toward Gangle in a silent offer to help her up.
“Oh…” Gangle glanced down at Pomni’s hand, then peered up and met her gaze, a pensive look crossing her face. “Are you sure…?”
“Yes…it’s fine. I promise. It’s...better for me, if I’m the one who initiates it. And I feel safe with you. I’ll be okay.”
Gangle hesitated for half a second, but in the end it seemed to be enough encouragement for her to slip her hand through Pomni’s and allow her to pull her back up. Gangle’s hand felt silky and smooth against Pomni’s glove, and she was surprised that it was warm...not quite human, but not what she was expecting, either. Something in between, something that was oddly comforting to the touch.
And it felt... right. It didn’t make her lungs constrict, didn’t make her hand feel like it was being stabbed by pins and needles. It was remarkable, really, just what a difference it made when she was the one who was in control. When she knew she didn’t have to be afraid.
Pomni was sure that her torment at Jax’s hands wouldn’t be over anytime soon, and the thought of his fingers gripping her shoulder or trailing up her back sent a sickening wave of anxiety roiling through her stomach. She still wished that she could be different, that even casual touches didn’t feel like an electric shock to her system that frayed every nerve in her body, that the touches she did crave made her feel disgusting and wrong half the time. Life would be so much easier if it didn’t actually hurt, if it didn’t put her so on edge, if she felt...well, normal.
...But then again, her new life here wasn’t exactly normal, either. And maybe it was time to stop shaming herself for what she couldn’t control, and start focusing on the things she could that would actually help her feel better, safer. At least she knew a few people here who would have her back, and she wanted to have theirs in turn. It was all they could do to survive here. And there was some comfort to be found in knowing she wasn’t dealing with it all by herself anymore.
Pomni squeezed Gangle’s hand and gave her one more smile, which Gangle tentatively returned as she squeezed gently back. Together, they made their way back down to the main stage, ready as they would ever be to face whatever challenges the day would throw at them.