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Kris flips and flops in bed all night long. On these kinds of nights, they find that they can’t sleep. It’s hot, and it’s sweaty, and their tank top is plastered onto their chest, glued to their skin from the heat. They turn to their side, facing the wall, and open their eyes with caution. Faint green stars from the ceiling bounce off to illuminate the dandelion wall. Despite its current monochromatic shade, just the reminder of the color makes Kris feel sick–reminds them too much of the summer sun that is their current mortal enemy.
But the heat wasn't really why they couldn't sleep. They flopped again on their back, staring at the fluorescent stars and planets. They were spread around, sprinkled and not clustered– Asriel had been careful to not put them all in one place. When he finally came back from college for a break, he frowned at Kris's abandoned walls. The stars crawled from his side of the room to theirs. They had enough breathing room in between them, enough to where you could drag your eyes between them, green bouncing off your irises as you took it all in.
It reminded Kris of freckles. It reminded Kris of someone. They clasped their hands together over their stomach and laid as still as they could. They tried really hard not to think about her as they would drift off to sleep, if they even could. But unfortunately, they found it almost impossible to feel rested, even if they did sleep. She would appear in their dreams. They were the ones who got cotton candy together, they were the ones on the Ferris wheel. Sometimes memories of the two of them sharing more intimate moments in the dark world also persisted in their brain– the ones where she reached her hand out to them, or made them laugh when she knew they felt traumatized. Ones where they would sit next to each other in silence in Castle Town, almost shoulder-to-shoulder, gazing out at the beautiful, glittering voids.
And Kris found that in the morning, once they woke up, it was a state of unrest so horrible that it was as if they never even closed their eyes in the first place.
Susie was… something, that's for sure. She wasn't what other monsters thought of her, no. Even Noelle seemed to have a warped view of her– this bad girl facade Susie had been putting on had everyone fooled. Kris knew better, though. They always knew that, since the moment they had met her. Since her first snarl at them. They had gotten closer after their first adventures together, and it was something Kris had always secretly hoped for. Truthfully, they had always wanted to be her friend.
Sure, she wasn't the super badass girl she made herself out to be in public, but she was still strong. She was confident, and brash, and did whatever she wanted. Kris remembered a time when they were like that too. Especially before the soul forced its way into their life. So when they would see Susie so clearly make her own path, trample and run off in her own direction for her own purpose, not caring what others said she was “supposed” to do, it made Kris admire her even more. They yearned for that sense of freedom and control so badly, watching her disappear into the Field of Hopes and Dreams.
When Kris finally defended her for the first time, even after they got hit by King, they felt something in the air shift. They felt their own confidence return, and just the fact that they could break free, even for a second, to help their friend, was an exhilarating feeling.
Now here they were, almost a year later. It hadn't been that long since they had to seal a fountain, but it's been a while enough to where the past few weeks have been just Susie and Kris hanging out every day. But each day, Kris felt more and more anxiousness brewing in their stomach, mostly from the fact that they were pretty sure butterflies came first.
Kris kept their eyes open as they stared at the ceiling. They were angry with themselves. Angry with the fact they felt something that they were pretty sure friends didn't feel for their other friends. Angry that memories of Susie brushing up against their arm, or holding their hand when dragging them someplace, gave them false hope that there was something more. Angry that they let themselves believe that there was something more in her amber gaze when looking at them, like they could swear they saw love emanating from her eyes towards them.
They remembered, so often, kept it on replay, in fact, every single night, the time she knew they couldn't help but stare at her when they were sitting on Kris's bed– and she let them study her. They knew she pretended to not mind, but were pretty sure she had never been stared at with such awe before. They almost memorized her gentle, kind freckles. The way her lips slightly curled where her longer fangs waited in line behind the rest of the rows of her yellow sharps. They remember staring at how her face, smoother than the rest of her save for her hands, transitioned into gentle scales on her neck. They looked at her bangs and her long, deep maroon-like hair, how it shielded her eyes so often, similarly to themself, and they found it wild how she could hide her beautiful eyes from the rest of the world like that. They saw soft fuschia form on the edge of her cheeks, on her nose, and how her freckles seemed to glow against it. The fact that not that many monsters would be able to appreciate her like this made something in Kris’s heart both ache and brag. She deserved more than just them.
Kris hated how sappy they were when they thought about her, but at this point, they found that there was no purpose in trying to conceal it. At least to themselves. So they let their mind drift and wander, wonder what could be, if only it were true.
They love her. They think. It's definitely in some way, that's what friends are for. There's space in their heart for Ralsei and Noelle and even Lancer. For Asriel and their mother and father. They thought that was cheesy, and fueled by teenage angst, refused to believe they had a heart. They wanted to believe that they could get rid of something so vulnerable inside of them, just like how they could get rid of the soul, currently caged up in the corner of their room. But Susie persisted.
And oh, did Kris suffer. Kris knew that they would ruin everything anyways, even without saying anything. Their behavior was enough to probably off-put Susie eventually. They were even more quiet than usual lately, because they were afraid they would crack open like one of the so-familiar fountains they knew, and that they would just spew everything. It was so atypical of Kris, but they couldn't help it. They never knew what feelings like this could drive them to do– they never expected to feel anything but melancholy and sorrow and depression for the rest of their life.
They told that to her once. It was a tough day. Asriel packed his bags to head back to his dingy dorm, miles and miles away, and despite the embarrassment–it was just like after they fought Spamton– they cried and cried and wept after seeing their brother disappear into the distance on the stupid, horrible white charter bus. Susie didn't know what to do, they knew. They didn't really care. Too absorbed in their own sadness. But she eventually calmed them down. A soft rubbing on their upper back, near their shoulders, as they kept their hands over their eyes and face embarrassingly. They eventually walked around, and Kris could tell their whole face was still red and wet.
Tears began to form in their eyes as they continued looking to the ceiling. It hurt, trying to hold it back, but one or two slipped out. Usual for the silent, yet insufferable nights like these.
Somehow that same evening, they ended up on the side of the riverbank. It wasn't unusual for Susie to usually do the heavy lifting when it came to talking, so Kris wasn't worried about sitting in silence. They stared out at the rapids, dark and black, with light shimmers breaking the waves being the only indication there was actually any water in the cave of the earth that sat before them.
As Susie was about to try to break the ice, Kris found it in themselves to speak.
“He… Asriel…he just makes me so happy.”
Susie stayed silent. Kris was sure she was probably feeling awkward. They felt a twinge of guilt for putting her in what they were sure was an uncomfortable position for her.
“I get worried I'm never going to feel happiness. Or, at least… long term. Everything leaves.” They paused for a second, and with pure bitterness, softly spat out, “everyone leaves.”
They caught a glint of something within Susie’s eyes as she listened. Kris couldn't tell what, but something was there, trapped inside her amber, threatening to spill out.
Kris cringed in bed, thinking about how they could say such horribly angsty things to her. Especially before they were as close as they were now, showing her their vulnerable side so quickly, if at all– Kris would never do that. Susie was so special, though. Susie was the exception.
The breeze slightly picked up. A few moments of silence passed, and Kris suddenly felt a heavy weight on their shoulders. Her heavy, solid jacket weighed on them like a dumbbell, and they slightly crumbled under the pressure, with a small “oof” escaping them as they felt themselves slightly deflate. Susie laughed gently as Kris pulled on the sleeves to cover themselves up more properly.
“‘s cold out,” she mumbled to no one in particular, diverting her attention back to the lake. A few beats of silence, and Kris felt her ruffling their hair as she stood up. It was getting late, but their mother knew better than to chastise them on a day when Asriel left. She wouldn't complain. Just this once, she wouldn't complain. Kris, still sniffling, giggled and helped themselves up through the offer of Susie's outstretched palm.
They didn't want to let go, but after taking a few steps in the grass, her grip loosened, and Kris's arm fell to the side with a pathetic whump.
Kris felt guiltiness brewing in their stomach, knowing now that their offense to the action of her letting go first, was out of a place of desperation for her to touch them. They wanted her to show them how much she wanted to hold onto them as much as they did her.
The night was slightly remedied when during their walk down the Hometown and Dreemurr path, Susie quietly called out Kris’s name.
“Kris…”
“Y-yeah?”
“I-uh. I won't…” she hesitated for a bit and looked to the side. Her hand flew to the back of her head as she scratched it. She looked back down.
“Won't leave,” she whispered. “Hope ya believe that, though.”
They smiled at her in a silent confirmation. In a silent lie.
She hugged them for the first time that night, right in front of their door.
They wanted to so badly. They wanted to believe she would never leave, but they knew that they'd drive her away one day, because that's simply their way–no one ever stayed in Kris’s life long enough. They were always ripped away from their hands. Maybe that's what gave them the courage to leap out and save her, unconsciously refuse for someone to take her away from them.
Kris curled in on themselves in bed as they faced their wall once again. The comforters felt heavy when bunched up– they imagined this is probably what it felt like for Susie to be up next to them as they slept. They knew it was for their own good to deny the food they wanted to feed their brain, but they couldn't help it– couldn't help but to imagine.
They knew they'd dream about it, and be disappointed in the morning when they woke up, and that their butterflies would just keep getting worse and worse until they found the frustration driving them to confessing their every feeling to her.
So, preparing for another restless morning, Kris let themselves imagine that she was holding them. Maybe one night, a year or two from now, they would finally stop dreaming about her, and stop dreaming for something more.