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They’re kissing again, because they got hurt bad again, today, with the second titan, and this is what they do when that happens, now. Getting hurt was fun, the first, second, day, really, ‘cause they kicked ass more than they got kicked. Now each enemy wavers inconsequential and inconvenient and translucent as a hologram, and behind them looms, to her and Kris and Ralsei, the shadow of the knight.
Kris, shaking, they’re always shaking, now, really, has their arms around her neck and their warm mouth shuddering against hers. They let out a sad unkempt noise against her and she loses their mouth to her throat. They learned by accident the way she shivers when their fingertips meet the skin below her scales, and now whenever they don’t want her to notice something, they duck their quick mouth to her neck and bite, lick under them. She shivers, pressing an arm to her mouth, and takes their shoulders to pull them away.
“Hey, hey, woah, dude.”
They shift in her lap, flutter their lowlidded eyes at her, which makes her flush just like they want it to, and she hates herself, a bit, for it. It was funny, at first, the stupid flirting, then it was interesting, something that made her stop, watch, play-casual, out of the corner of her eye, then, now, it’s scary, ‘cause she knows when they do it they’re trying to distract her from something very, very wrong. The line of them buzzes, hums in her arms, like TV static, like a glitch in a video game, half in and half out of tangibility. She doesn't say anything about it, it scares her too fucking bad to think about.
“You’re shakin’ real bad, you noticed that?”
They duck their head back into her shoulder and nestle there.
“Hey,” she says, low, trying to sound soothing. Failing, probably. “I’m scared as shit for tomorrow, too. I don’t know what’s gonna happen.”
Their voice comes crackly, quiet, wavering, familiar.
“You know what’s supposed to happen.”
She flinches. “Not fuckin’ talking about that bullshit, dude. It’s not. Nothing’s gonna happen.”
“I got you.” Their voice hums against her chest, reverberates in her throat, like it is her own voice, too. “We both got shit we can’t say.”
They’re both silent. She is suddenly very aware of their weight against her. They’re back, here, completely, they aren’t buzzing. She tightens her arms around them and they bite their lip, tighten their jaw against the wet in their eyes.
“We should probably…” Susie trails off, staring blankly through the dark of the spare room. Late afternoon sun warms the shuttered window. “I dunno. Don't fuckin' know what we should do.”
“Should,” Kris spits. “Who cares 'bout should. What do we wanna do?”
“We.” She grins. “It’s like that, huh?”
They untense a little, smile a bit. “Like that. Let’s go to the diner, get free shit.”
“Go to the lake, hear that song in the wind.”
“Climb in Noelle’s window, share her big fluffy bed.”
She laughs. “Chuck that stupid soul out. Lock the window after us.”
“Lock Dess’ door.”
They stare at each other, smiles fading.
“Guess it always comes back,” they whisper. “Can’t shake it off, can’t leave it.”
“But we can forget ‘bout it, for a bit.” She knocks them on the shoulder. “That ain’t so bad, huh?”
They nod. “But, I want to keep the good parts. Is that so bad? Dunno.”
“We’re not gonna forget him. Not gonna forget us, our badass armor and the castle, and our rooms.”
“How? How can we keep the good parts without the bad parts clinging on?”
She stands up, arm still around them, pulling them up with her.
“Dunno, man. But, we can go get hot chocolate, huh?”
They duck their head, and she doesn’t care, ‘bout all that bullshit, the bad parts, the scary parts, the mind-fucking, insane, incomprehensible parts. She cares about this. Them, in the school after hours, swapping spit in the spare classroom.
Kris smiles. “Guess so.”