Work Text:
It takes Susie a lot of nerve to ask out Kris Dreemurr. Funny, because Susie herself really isn’t one to dally, to let herself be slowed down by trivial matters such as worry. But she's nervous, stammering over herself as she speaks.
Worst that can happen is they say no, she tells herself, knowing full well how devastating that would be.
The curt rejection she receives doesn’t even surprise her, no. What does is the fact that, somehow, they look more hurt about it than she does.
“No,” they say curtly in response to her conclusive “Will you go out with me?”, the last sentence after a long, winded out confession that was probably all too awkward yet too cocky at the same time. Gosh, no wonder Kris is turning her down. Susie would too if she were them. It’s not strange that their rejection is so forthright, so harsh—this is Kris, after all. They’re not exactly known for being polite about these things. They’ll probably turn tail and make a strange but comforting joke to make her feel better, and the two of them can go back to pretending this never happened while Susie tries (and probably fails) to hide her own heartbreak.
What’s strange is that Kris is biting their tongue so hard it might just bleed, the word ‘no’ coming out more like a strained n-sound. It sounds forced and not just even monotone or annoyed but downright furious.
Susie’s reasoning tells her it’s because the inquiry is offensive. Susie’s instinct tells her it’s because something is going on.
“Why not?” she asks simply. It’s a very strange question, but it’s not yes or no. If Kris is in their right mind they’ll say something normally abnormal, something ‘Kris’, and she can just accept they don’t like her and move on.
She really should, actually. It’s more than enough that she’s made a friend, but she still wants more, greedy thing she is. She wants to go on dates with them and tell the whole world they’re an item and kiss and hold hands and get married and adopt a stray cat together and all that.
But if Kris doesn’t want all that, well then, who is she to push? No, really, who is she? Susie’s the girl that shoved them in locker’s and called them awful names and told them awful things, and really, it’s a miracle they’ve forgiven her at all and another entirely that they’ve become her friend. Susie should take what she can get and cut her losses.
Driven by pure instinct though, she does just the opposite.
“I…” Kris starts tersely, clenching onto they’re chest and wheezing like they’re having an asthma attack, before shuddering furiously and letting out a yawn mingled up with a word. “Like you.”
They do? Then- Then-
“So you said no,” Susie says, raising an eyebrow derisively. “...Because you like me.”
The lake is calm and even the usual evening breeze has quieted as if in anticipation.
Kris muffles something and then just says the word “No”, though the o-sound is shortened, and then goes back to muffling themselves as if they’re being forced to talk.
Susie doesn’t get this. Why go through all this trouble just to shoot her down ‘nicely’? As if that’d make things any better? Kris, of all people, is great at knowing the right thing to say but choosing to say the exact opposite just to get a rise outta her. Since when did they do the exact opposite?
It’s very, very funny, really, that her decision to confess her long-kept feelings is currently being punished by the cruelest sort of mollycoddling rejection she could have possibly received. Because she should have known this was a bad idea—Susie simply doesn’t get to have these things. But she thought she could, because she never stuck to the rules and regulations. She got too greedy, and now she pays the price.
But still, in spite of it all…
She keeps pushing. Because instinct refuses to listen to reason. Because something about this whole affair just feels so- off in a way she really can’t put her finger on.
“Kris,” says Susie. “Talk to me, man. What the hell’s goin’ on here?”
Kris starts to grit out something, only to stop, and with great effort, look at her and grit out an “I… have to go.”
They’re off before she knows it, leaving Susie to sulk by herself.
Well. That was a disaster.
Susie knew it was a mistake. She knew it was, and yet she did it anyways. Because she just has no reason, does she? No sense at all, no thought as to think before she speaks—Susie is just a miserable little thing, stupid and brutish in every sense of the word.
She thinks to the days of shoving Kris in lockers again. Thinks of that day back in Alphys’s classroom, when she told them their mom would get sick of them someday. And then, Susie wonders why she ever could have possibly thought they would like her back. They’re so, so perfect, and her?
She’s done so many unforgivable things.
In spite of herself, like some lovestruck moron, Susie feels tears dampening her cheeks, soundlessly flowing. It’s been a while since this last happened, she thinks. And of course, it had to be for a stupid reason like getting rejected. She wants to laugh. She wants to cry. That’s so, so…
Pathetic.
Susie hears Ralsei’s voice telling her that she’s being too hard on herself, that it’s normal to cry—God, she wishes he were here right now, if only so she could have someone who actually knows how all this sappy shit works on her side. But more than that, she wishes she had Kris right now, which is kind of funny considering the circumstance, because Kris is always the person who’s there for her.
Well, not anymore.
Before she knows it, there’s a hand on her shoulder, and then on her face, wiping at her tears. Susie turns, about to ask just Who the hell this little shit thinks they are, only to see Kris.
“Kris!” she says, the relief of a straggler in the desert having found water. It’s kind of pathetic, but really, that’s Kris’s fault, not hers. They have a habit of bringing out the more pathetic side of hers.
“S-Susie,” they say, voice weak, shaky, and mumbly—everything Noelle says it is. “I- I love you.”
The confession takes her aback for a plethora of reasons, one being, well, the fact that they rejected her mere minutes ago, but another being the sheer intensity with which they say it, like they’ve yearned for this for decades.
“You…?” she starts, unsurely, before regaining her bluster and scoffing. “The hell’d you turn me down for then?”
She’s half expecting them to say something like “just as a friend” or something else along those lines, or even for them to chastise her for being so snarky about it, but Kris only shakes their head, looking away guiltily.
“I-” they start. “I wasn’t thinking right.” Susie’s about to ask what the hell’s that supposed to mean when she feels their lips against hers. They’re kissing her.
By the time it fully registers, they’ve already pulled away.
“Sorry,” they murmur. In lieu of replying Susie just glares at them for a few seconds.
“Dude,” she says. “You’re givin’ me mixed messages here.”
Kris’s face falls even further, and Susie immediately feels sorry the statement ever left her mouth. They look somber, forlorn, deeply regretful in a way she doesn’t think they’ll ever let her understand.
“You’re—” they start. “Too good.” A bitter laugh. “That’s all.”
Susie snorts derisively at that, kicking a pebble across the lake because really? She’s too good for them? The hell’d they get that from?
“‘You wanna go out or not?” she says, ignoring the knot in her throat and concentrating solely on her frustration instead. “Yes or no. Simple as that.”
Kris pauses. And then, they burst out into laughter.
They laugh, and laugh, and laugh, but there’s not a trace of joy to be found.
“Oh, Susie,” they say. She feels like there’s something they want to add.
But in the end, they just sigh.
“Thank you,” they say. Susie feels frustration take hold.
“Yes or no?” she says. Kris sighs in response this time. Still not a response.
“...Ask me that again in a week,” they say. “I love you, Susie,” they re-iterate. “I’m sorry.”
It all sounds so intense, like an admission of guilt, when in actuality, all they’re saying is that they’re not ready for a relationship yet.
Damn, Kris is so weird sometimes.
“Christ, dude,” she says, punching their shoulder lightly. “You’re talkin’ like you killed a guy or some shit.”
Kris smiles weakly, and again, Susie thinks they’re going to burst into another manic fit of laughter.
But this time they just stand up all the way on their tippy-toes and kiss her snout, feather-light and sweet as sugar. And then, they pull back, leaving her grasping at her cheek as if that’ll somehow preserve the imprint of their lips.
“Goodbye, Susie,” they say with an air of finality she just can’t understand. “I’ll see you soon.”
And with that, they leave her behind, wondering what the hell is going on.