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Noelle Holiday loved touch.
Dad made touch an extension of his words. It didn’t feel like he was really talking with her unless he was ruffling through her hair or spinning her around in his arms. The calluses on his hands should have made his embraces feel rough on her fur, but it was an addition to his embraces during movie nights that she would snuggle into every time. Even at his weakest, his squeezes took the tension out of her muscles, the worry out of her mind. He would protect his little girl no matter what.
Mom made touch a commodity. Something to be hoarded, a sacred artifact to treasure. She knew it didn’t come easy for her mother to be soft and fragile with anything that wouldn’t literally shatter on impact. Her words of affirmation were gruff, but with enough weight to lock her into replaying them in her head for hours. Her hugs were just as much a reward as any bundle of money she got.
Dess made touch a solace. She was the biggest influence in her life and there was nothing that supported that more than how quickly she melted into her big sister’s hugs. Despite her loud, abrasive actions Dess was the cushion Noelle would lean into when everything got to be too much. She was the wings on her back, the halo ring that persisted over her head.
Noelle Holiday loved touch. She couldn’t imagine a world without it.
The same couldn’t be said for her best friend.
She didn’t remember much about the day she met Kris Dreemurr. Since before her memory began her family had been close with the Dreemurr’s, and they were a very physically affectionate family, even more so than her own. Kris was different in more ways than there were sheets in her sketchbook, but something she learned immediately was that Kris did not enjoy contact.
They accepted handholding from their mother and hugs from both of their parents, but aside from Asriel anything else was strictly off-limits. In contrast to the other people in her life they were timid about their space, preferring to cling to their own shadow than another person.
Mom wasn’t exactly a hugging machine, but Mom couldn’t talk with her words nearly as well as her actions. Kris on the rare occasions they spoke was the best communicator she’d ever met. Touch was just very adamantly not one of their languages.
It was a lesson many in Hometown struggled with. Dess never really understood it, and while Kris eventually progressed to accepting noogies, that was the hard limit. Their classmates in school struggled harder, particularly with Kris’ mischievous nature. A lot of the monsters assumed that a whoopie cushion or a scare meant fair game for anything. Although Kris was quite the prankster, the only few times they had ever truly gotten in trouble had been over their personal bubble being invaded.
Snowy’s jacket was never the same after the spray paint soaked it.
“It’s overwhelming for them,” Asriel had said once when Noelle asked him. “Their skin’s more sensitive than ours, like the inside of a soul.”
Noelle never questioned them, or tried to get them to change their mind even though she secretly thought it was a real shame their squishness couldn’t be used. Kris having such an emphasis on boundaries allowed her to set her own, and when it mattered Kris respected her wishes more than anybody else.
She never noticed how she was the only one who Kris would pull with their own hand when they were running in the woods, or how they let her squeal and hide behind them during scary movies. Noelle never noticed how Kris refused to play tag during yardtime unless she was there. Kris’ boundaries were clear as day, and she wouldn’t cross them no matter what.
Even if she really liked how their hands felt.
Noelle hadn’t been looking where she was going, and it was on full display as she sprawled over the ground. She had been too focused on outrunning Kris and had tripped over a root, her knee scraping against the broken asphalt and pebbles. Sharp lines of pain shot up through her leg, and she felt her lunch in her stomach seeing the blood running down her fur. Memories of Miss Dreemurr talking about how a cut could turn to a dust infection if left untreated left her throat swelling.
Noelle heard tiny scurrying and a little giggle behind her as Kris caught up to her. They tilted their head in mock confusion, red horns nearly falling off before noticing her cut and going still. Noelle curled into herself, already failing to stifle her sniffles. She had messed herself up in front of Kris and was already gonna start crying in front of them. They probably thought she was a total dweeb who couldn’t do anything right. They would have to leave her to go get Dess or Dad too, and then she’d be alone with her stupid ripped shorts and stinging scab. It was an irrational conclusion, but her knee was burning and her fur felt too heavy and the tears were already welling in her eyes.
Noelle looked up, half expecting Kris to have already started running to get a headstart from Dess. What she saw instead was an unusually solemn look on their face. She could see them intensely staring at her cut, before flicking to look at her. Noelle got to see their eyes almost as much as Azzy, and she could read whether they were goofing off or sulking by posture alone, but their irises held concern that should have outweighed their small human body.
Noelle suddenly forgot about the injury entirely and got self conscious. She was worrying Kris, it was supposed to be the other way around!
“I’m fine Krismas! Promise! See, I’m-”
She let out a shrill of pain as her body strongly disapproved of putting weight on her knee, trying to ignore how Kris flinched at her yelp. In between flashes of pain she could see their eyes close to watering themselves, their teeth slightly overlapped with their lip. They only did that when they were thinking out an idea. Was she really becoming this big of a problem? This was gonna be such a mess to sort out, and all she had wanted was to try out her new sneakers.
Noellle was pulled out of her thoughts by soft footsteps approaching her rather than leaving. Kris bent down on their knees, a steely resolve in their eyes that rivaled her own mother’s. It was too serious to be a prank, their poker face wasn’t this good. She stared at them for a moment, trying to decipher their motivation before they took a short breath and readjusting the horns on their head.
A gentle warmth hooked around her legs as they pressed her knees together, their hands hesitantly placed on her back. She gasped, looking at them wide eyed before they stood up suddenly. Her knee throbbed a little at the position shift, but Kris was quick to place their palm under it for support. Their hands clutched at her fabric, attempting to gain their footing. After a few more moments of wobbling they stabilized, tucking her close to their body.
Noelle felt like she was made of helium. She never thought that Kris would even be capable of holding her, and not in a million years that they would actively decide to. She gazed at them to find their eyes hyperfocused on the road ahead. Were they blushing? Or was it just their face going red from effort?
Kris definitely wasn’t Uncle Asgore, their breathing labored enough to where it was fairly obvious that this wasn’t easy for them. Despite this, the will of fire in their eyes could light up a mountain. She knew there was no stopping them, and if she was being totally honest she didn’t want to.
This felt too surreal to be true. She felt like if she asked anything or moved too quickly it would shatter and she’d end up back on the dirt.
So she tucked her head into them and tried to keep her sniffling as quiet as possible, listening to the sound of their sneakers hitting the gravel and their mumbled exhales.
After a few minutes they made it back onto the roads and before she knew it they were walking into her house’s gate. Her parents were waiting on the porch, Mom’s arms crossed while Dad was clearly attempting (and failing) to console her. They had been gone for longer than expected.
Mom saw them first, her questioning glare dying immediately as she was overtaken by an exceedingly rare expression of genuine shock. Dad’s eyebrows furrowed looking at the confusion on her face before turning and noticing the pair, a childlike wonder stretching across his face. Dess was probably still hanging with Asriel, but there was no doubt that she would be hearing about this.
Noelle glanced at Kris to see that they were now panting, beads of sweat dripping down from their bangs. They took another step and nearly fell flat on their face, dangerously wobbling on their foot while holding her up.
Her mother moved first, striding over and only then noticing the gash on Noelle’s leg and fussing over it. She took Noelle out of Kris’ hands, while her dad supported Kris’ exhausted form slumping against his frame.
Noelle doesn’t remember much else from that day, her mom took her back inside to disinfect and treat her wound, and Kris went back home not too long after that. Dess came back a few hours later and she vaguely recalls her being floored as Noelle embarrassingly recounted the story.
What she really remembered was discovering that Kris did speak touch.
And Kris made touch everything.
A tap on Noelle’s side brought her back to the present, a questioning glance from her partner. She ignored the random show they had put on in the background, and looked at Kris, their arm slung over her shoulder.
She nuzzled into their neck, draping the couch’s blanket over them and appreciated the satisfied hum from their throat.
“Just thinking.” She murmured, mostly to herself, feeling her hands intertwine with theirs.
Kris’ favorite language was touch, and it was one only she got to hear.