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Silver platters didn’t exist.
Not in real life. Not for her. Not for anyone, really.
Susie had only ever seen them on TV. Tables of food and families who ate at them. There were always leftovers on TV. There was never any yelling on TV, no sneaking around, no twisted game she had to play to get what she wanted. Susie never got why people on TV never had to fight for it. How monster hands would lift up silver trays or mothers in oven mitts brought steaming plates to the dinner table. No argument, no freezerburnt meals, no hands slapping hers back.
Susie never got why TV tried so hard to pretend, even as a little girl. Families weren’t like that in real life, and food was never that easy.
She'd learned a lot since being a little girl. One who used to hide behind doors and search for the nearest windows. Susie learned quickly to face all her shit head on if she wanted to stay standing, to get through it, to eat by the time she got to sleep. She knew when to bare her teeth and play the game. She knew when that wouldn’t work, too. When she’d have to sneak and steal and figure shit out.
It didn’t matter what part of the game Susie was playing. When Susie was starving—which she always had been—nothing else mattered. Anything to cut back on the burning. The weakness in her arms that spread to her head when she sat in class or got up to walk home. The feeling of her insides eating the rest of her.
The burning feeling was something Susie had gotten used to. It was always there, permeating her chest like a thick fog, leaking mercilessly into her gut. Susie was an expert at swallowing it down. Knowing where to get food, where she could find it, how much water to drink and gum to chew. Anything for that temporary fullness to curb the stupid noise her stomach would make in class.
It was natural—natural for her —to be hungry. The feeling hung in the air with every breath, strayed to the background where she couldn’t ignore it for long. Even if the pain in her gut had grown dull by now, it still reminded Susie she was alive. She hadn’t succumbed to the elements, hadn’t kicked the bucket or gone crazy. Susie would do anything for a bite to eat, but—who wouldn’t?
And then Susie met Kris.
Kris made things too easy for her.
They watched her eat a stick of chalk when Susie thought she was alone. They stared at her without any judgment, which made her so goddamn angry in the beginning. They have to be doing this shit on purpose, she thought at the moment. But then she’d catch glimpses of it, their face when they thought no one was looking. It never changed.
Especially not for her.
By the time they’d gone through hell and back, Kris wasn’t so bad to be around at all. They didn’t care what she did, what she ate, how much of it there was. They never asked questions. Never threatened her, pointed out her traits that she knew could be weird or off-putting.
And then that stupid fluffy goat joined them and gave them both whatever the hell they wanted. And then Kris and their mom gave Susie the couch more and more, and that meant dinner and breakfast and anything else she asked for. And Noelle— Noelle, of all people on earth—started inviting Susie over to her house, even if her mom didn’t seem to approve.
And Susie felt soft. And comfortable. It felt right, but sometimes it never felt more wrong. This felt like TV. It didn’t feel like anything real out there, and no one seemed to let her know how long this program would keep going on for.
She was hanging out with Kris on their couch after class when she couldn’t swallow back the burning any longer.
It ripped a hole through her, causing her shoulders to tense upwards. She tried not to wince at the undeniable noise of ravenous, unending hunger that wracked her whole body. So this week hadn’t been the best in that regard. So what? Things had been worse.
The worst this could be was a little embarrassing.
It sure felt embarrassing as Kris lifted their head up from the game they played on their phone. The growl went on longer than a few seconds. Susie was convinced her body was out to get her. She crossed an arm over her middle protectively in response, swallowing to keep another growl from escaping her.
“What?” she deadpanned, “Fucking what, dude?”
Kris’s eyebrows raised curiously, and Susie realized she wouldn’t be able to pretend it wasn’t happening. She was never one to lie, even if lying would make a lot of her problems a little bit better. She bit back the urge to shove Kris away and let out a nervous laugh.
“I, uhh…skipped breakfast today. Forgot lunch. It’s cool, dude. I can just eat more of your shampoo or like…a leaf or something.”
The last time she said that, someone laughed. Kris never seemed to laugh, even if Susie was only half joking about that good-smelling soap. Kris was always so unserious, but it never came off as uncaring. She watched as Kris got up off the couch, grabbing Susie by the worn-out jacket sleeve and leading her into the kitchen.
They opened up a cupboard Susie didn’t care enough to notice until now. Inside was the kind of thing she’d see on TV.
More snacks than she’d ever seen in one place, aside from the aisles that sat in the grocery store. Susie felt her expression change, from irritation to disbelief. She turned to Kris with a look that wasn’t exactly a smile. They bumped her elbow and pointed down at the stash. Susie felt her mouth begin to water before she could swallow the feeling back down.
“Seriously?” Susie asked. She crept closer to it, like she was staring at a city of gold. It didn’t feel weird to steal from others, especially Kris but…this was Kris’s mom’s house, wasn’t it?
That didn’t seem to matter. Kris grabbed a few things out of the cupboard, their face morphing into a ridiculous grin that practically screamed, why didn’t you just say something, dumbass?
The two sat back down with chip bags and sour candies that resembled the shapes of snails like it was nothing at all. Susie had never eaten something so filling with such little argument in between. She wondered for a moment if this was always what the Dreemurr house was like. Kris opened their phone again and started typing. Susie slunk to the other side of the couch with a bag of doritos and rested her chin on Kris’s head. Even if she couldn’t type as well as Kris, she watched as they sent an exchange of brief messages, letting their mom know that Susie would be staying for dinner.
When Toriel got home, she made the most kickass dinner Susie ever had. It looked like those silver platters and steaming plates she’d stare at from the other side of the screen. She filled up on it, savouring the memory and the option to indulge without someone waiting on the other side with consequences. She tried not to act like it was anything different than she’d get back at her house.
In the morning, Susie woke up on the Dreemurr’s couch in Asriel’s old pyjamas. It was Kris’s mom’s suggestion. She rolled over and stared at clothes from yesterday, freshly washed and folded in front of her. When Toriel noticed she was awake from the kitchen, the woman sat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She told Susie that anything in the pantry was hers. That if she was ever hungry while visiting, she didn’t need to ask.
“Especially the pie in the fridge,” Toriel giggled, a hand over her mouth, “Kris needs to learn how to share.”
That morning, Toriel gave Susie two extra pancakes, the ones that weren’t burnt. She asked if Susie wanted seconds. Then thirds.
Susie couldn’t say no.
***
Things got weird after that.
Better? Susie didn’t think it could get better than crashing at Kris’s once a week, but the food became a constant. Susie never had enough to balance out how starving she felt before meeting Kris and their mom. She was really, really glad she didn’t end up pummelling Kris in the hallway.
Things became different, and fast. When Susie would sleep at the Dreemurs’ she’d wake up for breakfast with dinner still sitting in her stomach. Toriel would send them both to school with something to nibble on for lunch, something that wasn’t gum or water or whatever Susie could stuff in her pockets from the convenience store.
When there wasn’t any lunch to send with them, Toriel would take a few bills out of her purse and pass them to Kris on the drive to school. Enough for both of you, she’d say. The first time it happened, Susie wasn’t quite sure what to say back.
“Hey. Hey, Kris,” she whispered, a little too loud, “I don’t really have enough to pay your mom back. You think she’ll mind?”
Toriel kept the car engine running in the school parking lot, but Susie’s voice still managed to rise over the A/C and FM radio. Toriel shot Kris a look before smiling back down at Susie. She could still feel breakfast sitting in her stomach, almost uncomfortably so. Susie didn’t think she’d ever felt continuously full for so many meals in a row.
“Kris’s older brother could work up quite an appetite compared to the two of you! As long as you’re staying in my house, it would be rude to not feed you,” Toriel looked down at her kindly, like she wasn’t some scrappy kid or scary monster. “I’m sure your parents would do the same for Kris.”
Susie hoped Kris never saw her house. She really hoped Toriel didn’t, either. At least Kris would keep quiet about it.
The pair bought food during lunch. Susie made them each get an apple, because Kris’s mom made them promise to get at least one healthy thing. She swallowed it whole, core and all, and regretted it. She forgot that she didn’t need the extra bit today. Not while the pearly gates of food heaven had opened up.
Sleepovers and three meals under the Dreemurrs’ roof grew into more of a constant. Susie would drag herself to church with the silent promise that Kris would take them to the diner, where everyone knew them, where they’d get a free mug of hot chocolate. They’d share a stack of pancakes, and Kris would let Susie finish them. They’d pass her their slice of rye bread, the butter melted just enough to still be crunchy.
When Susie would crawl back to her own house and declare to whoever was listening that she was still here, it was with leftovers hidden in her pockets, a mouthful of something from Kris’s pantry under her tongue. She’d go a day or two with hunger pains at home, then crawl back across town, to Kris and their life that felt like those TV shows. Kris, who didn’t seem to care one way or another how much of their kitchen she could tear into.
It was stomach-turning, coming over and being so hungry that Toriel eyed Kris through her welcoming smile. Susie would let her head drop and asked if they’d eaten dinner already, too hungry to feel embarrassed by it. The very thought of it made her lose her appetite, even if she’d keep on eating no matter the feeling. She had to savour it, even if it felt weak. It was exactly what she’d been trained not to do.
***
Things got even weirder when Noelle started joining them for lunch.
Maybe not weird, maybe better. Susie knew she was supposed to feel better, but instead it just felt…strange. Strange that she got to be the kid on TV who ate off silver platters, surrounded by people she knew wouldn’t look at her like she was nothing.
Susie sat behind the school with a stick of bubblegum in her hand and watched as Kris tried and failed to climb the tallest tree.
“The trunk’s too tall, dumbass!” she called out, a harsh laugh following close behind.
They’d been trying to do it all week, even if Toriel said it wasn’t setting a good example for the younger kids watching from inside. Kris hooked their nails into the trunk and jumped up, trying to catch the lowest branch. Susie thought about throwing them up there herself, but the curb had just the right amount of heat trapped in it to keep her sitting there.
“Azzy climbed that tree once when we were kids and couldn’t get down,” Susie’s shoulders raised at the sound of another voice, relaxing when she realized it was just Noelle. “Kris stood at the bottom of the tree until my sister got Mr. Dreemurr. Azzy cried for twenty minutes, and—gosh, then I got scared and started crying, too—even when he was out of the tree!”
Noelle’s soft fahaha made Susie snort back in response. The girl had a million stories about Kris as kids, but none of them were as good as that laugh.
“Glad to know Kris is becoming just as stupid as their brother,” she finally said, not bothering to hide her grin. Kris overheard it and shot her the finger. Noelle laughed even louder, and Susie sat back, enough to pat the other side of the curb. They sat in silence for a while, Noelle’s shoulders gradually stiffening, until Susie finally broke it.
“What’s with your face?”
Noelle shot up instantly, and Susie thought of that saying about the headlights. She felt her own shoulders tense as Noelle took something wrapped out of her bag.
“I just—I wanted to give you these,” she didn’t wait for Susie to take the tin out of the paper bag before she began overexplaining. “My mom and I made them last night. I don’t know if you’re a fan of gingerbread—I probably should have asked—but I figured it’d be better than chalk, right?”
She laughed again, more nervous this time, and Susie swallowed down the fullness she felt from what Kris’s mom had packed for them already. Susie didn’t like calling things she liked cute, but…the tiny trees, tiny monsters, all of it looked too adorable to put in her mouth.
She did it anyway.
“Never had it before,” Susie said. Her mouth watered before she could swallow the mouthful. They really were good. “You’re saying you made this? Gotta give it to you and your mom—these are pretty damn good.”
Noelle looked like she was ready to die at that compliment, but she locked onto the first comment instead. Her face devolved from nervousness to absolute shock.
“You’ve never made gingerbread?” the girl’s eyes lit up, “When my mom hears that, she’ll have to let you come over again!”
When they went to the library to “study” after school the next day, Noelle heard her stomach growling loud. Her stupid body, one that was used to sneaking snacks out of Kris’s pantry twice a week, couldn’t seem to handle the hunger today. Susie hoped Noelle wouldn’t say anything.
“Are you still hungry, Susie?”
She did. Of course, she did.
“I’ll thug it out,” Susie chuckled. She kicked her legs up on the table despite the librarians’ attempts to kick her out whenever she did it. “Not like I’m not used to it.”
Noelle didn’t say a thing back, but Susie caught her whispering to Kris when they all walked home.
That next week, they went back to the library. Noelle wandered over to the bulletin board, pretending like it wasn’t her idea to check it in the first place. Susie’s eyebrow raised when she squinted at a new sign that hung next to the bulletin board.
[New!! Library Snack Program — Open to All Community Members]
A basket of apples and oranges sat on the small table under the sign, another beside it filled with granola bars and fruit gummies. The good ones that Susie saw ads for growing up. None of this was here before today. Out of everyone who would have noticed, Susie knew it would have been her.
“Well, shit,” she eyed the baskets and thought about how many she could take after staying with Kris for too long. Long enough to make Toriel question if her parents were okay with her away out so long. “When did this get here?”
“It was Noelle’s idea,” Berdly smirked from behind the counter, his eyes glaring at them from under a thick pair of glasses, “But I’m the one who really made it happen. When I become mayor…I’ll certainly let her be my assistant.”
“What? What?” Noelle pressed a hand over her face and turned away. Susie didn’t get it. “I don’t—it wasn’t really my idea! Berdly and I were just talking, and—”
Susie wanted to pummel the bird, but free food called out to her first. She took a handful of whatever the second bowl held, stuffed them in her pockets, and tore one open—maybe three—while they sat and played stupid games on the library computer. When they left, Susie ripped Berdly’s stupid glasses off his stupid face and stuck them on the highest shelf, one Berdly couldn’t reach even with a ladder.
She didn’t snap them in half, though. Susie considered that an improvement from the last time she saw Berdly. Maybe it was all the library-sanctioned oranges she’d eaten making her feel so soft and mushy inside.
***
Susie didn’t think it could get weirder—or better, it was supposed to feel better—but it did. Heaven’s gate, filled with the shiniest silver platters, should have closed by now.
It hadn’t yet. The sources rotated, but they never went away.
Breakfast at the kitchen table with Toriel. The diner with Kris. Snacks at the library. Dinner at Noelle’s, where they’d order pizza when her mom worked late nights. Dessert back at Kris’s again. Midnight snacks shoved in her pants pockets, ones that weighed down her jacket on her walk home. Back to the people that never seemed to want to feed her themselves.
Soon, the carnal need to stop that gnawing, starving feeling became more muscle memory than anything else. Susie didn’t have to think about it. Not every second of the day, at least. Before she could, Kris already sat them down at a diner booth, or Noelle unpacked more of what she’d baked the night before. Even Nerdly satiated her hunger when restocking the baskets in the back of the library.
Susie couldn’t blame anyone for this, for people being so nice to her all the time. She couldn’t get mad at them for giving her what she’d always wanted, what she never imagined she’d have for herself.
The real problem was entirely Susie’s own fault. The real issue now was that she couldn’t say no.
Turning down anything, even the smallest morsel, felt like a kind of betrayal. It was bad luck. A part of her knew if she put anything good to waste, it would leave and never come back. That when she found herself starving again— it all had to stop eventually and she would go back to hunger —she would think back to everything she said no to.
It didn’t matter if she was full. Not if both Toriel and Noelle packed her lunch. She couldn’t turn it away, not even if breakfast still stuck to the back of her throat. If Kris quietly offered more food than she could handle, she couldn’t just tell them that. It wasn’t an option. How stupid and soft and spoiled would they think she is?
The weakness that used to ravage the meat on her bones was gone. The silver platters weighed down on her gut with an uncomfortable heaviness she couldn’t shake. Her stomach ached for other reasons, ones that were supposed to be better. This was the better alternative. Better than starving, better than sneaking and stealing—so why did it piss her off so much to think about it? Why did the prospect of forcing it all down her throat feel more dreadful than just starving?
Susie stood hunched forward, pressed up against a stone wall somewhere in Castletown’s labyrinth of rooms and hallways. She tried to lick her wounds in peace, and this felt like the only place no one would see her.
Her apartment didn’t feel right—but when did it ever feel right? The idea of letting herself into the Dreemurr household and curling up on their couch felt better, but her mouth pooled with something thick and sickening when she thought about breakfast the next morning, and then lunch, and more of that suffocating feeling that replaced the burn in her chest.
She knew it was a matter of time before she really overdid it, no matter how much she ignored the warning signs to stop. Susie didn’t want to think about what she’d eaten today, how much of it there’d been. Her stomach lurched recounting what everyone brought to her, dangled in front of her like she deserved it. She could usually withstand it, the heaviness. Today, she couldn’t shake the wrong feeling, no matter how much she tried to push through.
Sweat stuck to the back of her neck, arms wrapped weakly over the rest of her. Her stomach jostled uncomfortably with each little movement, reminding her—for once—how much she’d let herself overindulge. Susie never thought she’d reach a limit, but a limit was all she could feel as it crept up the back of her throat and threatened to cross the line.
Wrenching her eyes back open, Susie took a few breaths, ones that fucking hurt, and thought about what the hell she could do to make this feeling go away. If she picked herself up from this hallway, she could trudge over to her room and lay down there. If the reading room was empty, she could curl up on the couch near the fireplace.
Or…maybe the bathroom was the better choice, with how much everything begged to come back up. She sucked in a shaky breath and tried to lift herself off the cold stone wall.
“Susie?”
A soft, surprised voice threw a hammer into all her plans. In front of her stood the most overbearing, worrying, anxious little fur ball she knew. Susie felt something shift with unease in her stomach, knowing just how he’d react if he knew.
“Ralsei. Hey,” she turned her head and tried to crack a gruff smile, one that she knew looked unconvincing.
“I didn’t know you’d be here so late. I don’t have anything prepared for you and—” The prince looked like he was ready to go in for a hug, but Susie’s arm stopped him before he could take the first step forward. “Is—is everything okay?”
Ralsei always asked the concerned questions that everyone seemed too afraid to bring up. Ralsei always acted like he was non-confrontational, but when it came to this, he was surprisingly pushy.
Susie wanted to turn her back to him more than anything, tell him to mind his damn business. All this food made her soft. She couldn’t find it in herself to snap at him, not when she felt so gross already.
“It’s fine, dude,” Susie sucked in a breath as another cramp convulsed within her, sending a shockwave of overindulgent pain down her side.
Ralsei stared at her like she wasn’t so big and tough. The gentle feeling in his eyes was enough to make her breathing shallow. Susie waited for the prince to invite her in, out of the cold, empty hallways. As much as she wanted to hide away and ride this out alone, Ralsei was here now. If she scared him enough, he wouldn’t ask any questions.
“You’re hurt,” he said instead, and Susie wished she had enough strength to push through and punch all her problems away. There was a few seconds of silence, of Susie holding on tightly to herself, trying to squeeze the dread out of her chest.
She was so stupid. This was so stupid. How the hell do you tell someone you’ve eaten yourself sick? She didn’t understand why gentle and full felt worse than rough and hungry. Ralsei took another step forward, and Susie felt her stomach turn dangerously on its side. He reached out his hand again instinctively. Susie felt herself pulling away.
“It’s cool,” she waved him away. Her voice lowered when she grinned back at him, empty-eyed and staring somewhere off at the wall across from her. “Ate too much.”
Ralsei perked up. Most of his worries evaporated, but Susie could still see some of it sticking to his face.
“Your stomach hurts?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever,” she scoffed, trying not to let the crushing, uncomfortable pain spread to the rest of her body. That included the expressions on her face. “This whole place doesn’t need to hear.”
“Have you tried healing?”
Susie shook her head. She was worried about what might happen if she used her own powers. Without answering, Ralsei smiled, big and stupid and precious, and lifted his hand to work his magic.
As the green magic hit her head-on, Susie felt the euphoric feeling hit her, take away a fraction of the pain, and course through her body until it hit the place that hurt the most. As if on command, Susie felt her jacket sleeve come up and cover her mouth. Within seconds, the churning in her stomach increased tenfold. Before she knew it, bile rose up her throat until her eyes watered. She gagged into her arm, then straight her hand.
“Rals…” she choked out. The other half of it got lost on the wind, “…think I’m—”
With her shoulder leaning, shaking against the wall, Susie felt her upper half tense. Her mouth pooled with saliva. After gagging again, she felt a breathless, sickening wave of dread as something thick splattered out of her mouth and against the floor.
Fuck.
Susie looked down at the half-digested bits of food and gagged again. More came up than before. The prince’s smile fell, reacting with a small gasp. It felt like the entire castle had darkened.
“Oh—oh, Susie,” Ralsei hurried over, and Susie soon felt a hand on her back, rubbing carefully over her jacket and exposed shoulders. Susie coughed up dinner, and lunch, and every other stupid little thing she couldn’t say no to. Citrus burned the back of her throat like acid. She couldn’t bear to look down in front of her. “You’re—you’re going to be okay…I think the healing magic is just running its course…I didn’t think…”
What kind of fucking healing makes you sick? She wanted to snap back. Susie didn’t have the guts, or the energy.
When she had enough time to come up for air, Susie uncurled her hand from her stomach. Ralsei’s paw found it awkwardly, before she could push him away again. Her stomach railed, and she fell back into the wall with a gasp, rougher than she could handle.
“Shit,” she choked out. Tears pricked her eyes from the pressure released. Susie pressed one hand firmly into the stone wall as she lurched forward for round two. “My—my bad…got it on your—”
Susie tried to utter out what might be the closest she’d ever get to an apology, when Ralsei’s soft voice told her it was fine, that she should breathe, that he just wanted her to feel better. Susie tried to ignore the feeling in her chest, the voice that told her how gross this was.
“I’m so sorry, Susie, I—” Ralsei looked worse than she felt, his paw still on her back. “I didn’t think my spell would make you sick. You must have really needed to get it out of your system. I’m sorry if—”
The prince worried too much. Susie let out a rough laugh. She knew it didn’t land right by the look on Ralsei’s face. As she slowly caught her breath, Susie opted to speak instead.
“S’fine. Still standing, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know if just standing really makes you okay after that…” Ralsei said cautiously, “Actually, I—I think you should sit down. Can I bring you to—”
“What, your room?” Susie wiped the side of her mouth and let out a rough, shaky breath. “Do you actually have furniture now?”
“…perhaps we could sit by the fire instead. You could lay on the couch? I could bring blankets and a change of clothes and—would that be okay?”
Susie chuckled, laughing in between gasping breaths. She waited for her heart to stop pounding, for her pulse to slow down before she latched onto Ralsei’s scarf.
“What the hell do you take me for?”
***
The room with the fireplace was nice. It felt cozy, soft, far from sleeping outside. The room was small, with only one way in. Safe. It wasn’t as if Susie didn’t feel safe with the people she knew outside, but...something about less eyes on her put her at ease.
Ralsei kept his distance as he wandered back in with tea. Susie would have turned it down—for once, turned something down—if it weren’t for the terrible taste still lingering in her mouth.
“Is your stomach still bothering you?”
“No,” she said. Then, after silence, “Maybe.”
“Did you eat something weird?”
“Nah.” Not this time, she thought to herself. It was a good guess. Between her and Kris, the two were always eating something they shouldn’t.
“Are you sick?” Ralsei paused, then let out a small laugh. “I won’t catch it, if you’re worried.”
Susie didn’t really feel sick. Not anything besides what she’d done to herself. She was a little happy she’d thrown up, to be honest. Even if some of the feeling stayed, most of the weight pressing down on her stomach had left. Maybe Ralsei’s healing had worked, after all.
“Don’t know. Don’t think so.”
Susie sipped on the drink in her hand. It was warm and tasted mildly like those cookies Noelle made last week, with a little bit of lemon mixed in. Her stomach groaned, audibly, and she felt a small hiss escape her as the pain shot up to her chest. Ralsei stared down at her sympathetically, still smiling.
“Too much of a good thing, then?”
“Yeah,” Susie let her arm cross over her stomach again. She curled herself tighter, in a way she’d never have the balls to do around anyone else. Her stomach twisted and her throat still burned with acid. “It was all…really fucking good. They keep giving me shit all the time now and I guess I didn’t…”
Susie didn’t need to finish the rest of her sentence. The prince had to have gotten the gist, the way his face crinkled. She’d been floored by kindness. Ralsei beamed softly. He was too damn soft.
“That’s lovely, Susie.”
“Doesn’t feel lovely,” she muttered, shocked at her own words. Ralsei stiffened next to her, and she tried to backpedal before a lump formed in her throat. “I mean it—it is.” Her voice cracked. She blinked back the painful feeling that settled behind her eyes. “It does. Fuck.”
Ralsei looked dead serious now. He leaned over, reached out a tentative hand.
“Susie?”
“Fuck, just—fuck off. Stop looking at me,” she pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and looked away when her voice started wavering, “I know good things are s’posed to feel good, okay? There’s not anything wrong with me, I just—it’s fucking stupid. It’s my own damn fault I can’t keep it down.”
Susie hated how she sounded, somewhere in between weepy and angry. If it sounded pathetic in her head, it must have been even worse hearing it come out of her.
“Keep it down?”
Ralsei sounded equal parts worried and confused, but he asked the question so gently. It pissed her off. Susie didn’t know why it pissed her off so much, but the thought of him saying anything more than that tore a hole through her chest. It felt like a punch to the gut.
“All of it,” she snapped out, voice breaking up like static against her will, “Whatever they give me. It doesn’t matter what I do, they—everyone just—it’s stupid to feel so bad about it, but I always thought it would feel good. Better than this. I don’t know what’s messed up in me that I can’t keep it down like everyone else but—”
Her breath shook too much to finish, her stomach in sickening knots. This was so wrong. Susie knew she should be grateful for everything everyone gave to her. She thought it was supposed to be innate, natural. It felt like Susie just now learned something everyone else had already been taught. Susie was raised to be a thorn. She only knew how to be sharp, to poke holes in other people’s sides, no matter how well they treated her.
“Susie…” Ralsei had his arms open, his eyes glistening with worry under his glasses. “This doesn’t feel like it’s just about food.”
Susie didn’t notice how gross and wet her face had gotten until she felt herself hiccup, and her hand came up to swipe at her eyes. God dammit, this was mortifying.
“Shut—” her throat choked her out, like two hands pressed tightly against her neck. She dropped her head in her hands and let out a soppy, infuriated growl. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”
Ralsei didn’t ask before scooting over and wrapping his arms around her. His embrace felt like how Susie always imagined a cloud would feel. It covered her like a warm blanket, and Susie let out another frustrated, half-broken noise.
She still felt so angry, her stomach protesting along with her, but the physical contact made her melt. Any attempt to tether herself to the ground was gone as Susie curled up and—she didn’t want to admit she cried in front of Ralsei. It wasn’t by choice. She just couldn’t stop it.
“I think I understand,” Ralsei murmured, “Others can be so nice to me, it hurts. Some days, it weighs down my chest until I can’t breathe. It used to make me so scared. I didn’t like feeling so pained every time something good would happen. I just…wanted to enjoy it, but it felt like I couldn’t.”
Susie didn’t lift up her head. She never thought Ralsei would understand what it felt like to be her. Someone so—rough. Not nice in the slightest. But from what he was saying…perhaps the two weren’t so different, after all.
“Do you remember the first time I ate my own cake? You had to make me do it,” Ralsei laughed softly, a paw drifting to Susie’s hair. Susie didn’t know he had claws, but she could feel them digging lightly into her scalp. She responded half-heartedly, chest still moving up and down unevenly with her breath. “The night we came back from the sanctuary, when I was alone, I…ate the whole thing. I felt so sick afterwards, but...it was the first thing I ever did for myself. The first nice thing I ever allowed for myself, all on my own, even if it ended up hurting.”
Susie wanted to laugh at how similar the anecdote was. It felt less embarrassing, even if she probably looked beyond pathetic with Ralsei combing through her hair and holding her close to his chest.
“I know you don’t think so, Susie. But you’re nice,” Ralsei whispered. He sounded a little heartbroken when he said it, “You’re so, so nice. Everyone wants to be nice to you back. They must have no idea how overwhelming it feels for you.”
Ralsei made her sound so sensitive. Susie wanted to protest, but it just came out as another whimper. She couldn’t speak.
“No one will be angry if you tell us when it's too much,” Ralsei continued. His arms snaked around her, paws settling underneath her ribcage. Susie kept her head buried, half in the warm blanket, half in Ralsei’s fluffy chest. “No one can be hungry all the time. You don’t have to take it all at once.”
If only you knew, Susie thought to herself. The feeling of Ralsei’s paws through her shirt, drawing circles in the skin above her stomach, made her feel warm. Not disgustingly warm, not heavy or sick, just… warm.
“Can’t help it,” Susie’s breath hitched, “S’rare, you know? Having it all the time. I’ll feel worse wasting it when it all goes away.”
Ralsei kept quiet for a moment, as if he was finally at a loss at words. Susie pressed herself deeper into him, breathing in what smelled like magic and ginger and a handful of fresh herbs. Ralsei finally let himself breathe out. He gave her a gentle squeeze, careful not to jostle her insides that slowly untwisted.
“You won’t have to worry about that,” he whispered, “Not as long as you have us. There will always be enough for you when you need it.”
In the warmth of Ralsei’s arms, his touch, his words that seemed to cure everything, Susie didn’t think about silver platters. She didn’t think about what she was feeling, what she was supposed to feel. Not until she was hungry for breakfast the next morning.
Toriel and Kris always had good pancakes on Sundays. Susie wondered if they gave good hugs, too.
If it wouldn’t be weird, someday, to ask for one of those instead of seconds.