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"Uno!" Your doppelganger shouts triumphantly. They wiggle their last card at you, as if taunting you, you and your full hand of cards. You let them have their moment, and then curl your own mouth into a smirk, dropping two +4s on the pile in front of you. It's funny, watching their face go through the stages of grief, their exaggerated motions so different from your own that you can't help but see them as a complete stranger. Still, you laugh as they cry out your name in betrayal.
It's 2:51 PM on Sunday. There is no festival outside. No one has come to your house.
You narrow your eyes, and toss another card into the pile.
-----
It's Sunday morning, and the two of you are out by the lake. They're daring you to drink up the lake water, and you're ready to do it, you're just thinking up the best strategy to make them do it too. Just because they're your SOUL doesn't mean you're going to listen to everything they say - more like, you're going to make them work for everything, just out of spite.
They couldn't make you do it, even if they wanted to. There are no choices to make. The game has been put away. All there is, is - "I don't want to get botulism, Kris! Or- bird flu! Whatever there is in water! At least one of us needs to live!"
You raise an eyebrow, saying nothing more.
"Yeah, I know we won't die! Still! I don't want food poisoning! You have a stronger stomach than me!"
You tilt your head judgementally.
"Okay fine, we have the same stomach! And I probably deserve it for making you eat moss, even though it tasted good. But at least try it first, and I'll come back tomorrow, okay?!"
You frown at them severely.
"Fine...but Kris, if I get sick, I'm not making you food for a week..."
You consider this. A whole week of either dealing with your own terrible cooking, going out to the diner, or eating your mom's cooking, versus watching them drink the pond water...
As they bend down, you pull them back up. You squat down instead, cupping your hands into the water and bringing them to your mouth. Normal, slightly onion-y water.
"How is it, Kris?!" They're more excited than you are, bouncing on their heels while they wait for your response.
You consider, and then slowly, deliberately, turn your thumb into a thumbs down.
They gasp, theatrically, raising their hands to their mouth, and you even crack a grin.
A mouthful of onion-y water wasn't much of a price to pay for having something different to eat for another week of Sundays, after all.
-----
"Kris, you wanna go to the- wait, Kris?" Susie's eyebrows narrow as she looks between the two of you, trying to figure out if this is a prank being played on her. It's a little funny, and if it were just you you'd probably wait a bit longer to tell her the truth, but your other half cracks faster than you do.
"That's my friend from out of town. I'm Kris." They're trying very hard to sound like usual you, toning down their natural bubbliness, but they're still more excited than you've been since you were about 10. You can't help but snicker a bit, and they stare at you with betrayal.
"Uh-huh. And who's your friend? And why the FUCK do they look exactly like you?" Susie clearly does not believe you, obviously a result of their horrible lying, and not the fact the lies you came up were terrible in the first place.
You clear your throat. "Tris. Humans do it." Good enough of an explanation, you're pretty sure.
"I grew up around humans, dumbass! That's not a thing!" Susie barks out, obviously sick of your shit. Well, you tried.
"So, do you want to go to the dark world, Susie?" 'Kris' is practically giving off balls of fluff as they turn to Susie, hands clasped together. You really want to shove them and Ralsei in a room and make them battle to death in a fuzz-off.
"You- What-" Susie sputters, glancing back and forth between the two of you. Finally, she throws up her hands. "Fine. I'm gonna make Ralsei deal with this shit instead."
The two of you follow her in a line like baby ducklings, you in the middle. Susie's fine, but you'd rather not take the brunt of the gawking for your journey across town.
Another failure, huh? You're going to have to try again next Sunday.
----
"How long do you think it's going to be this time? I hope it doesn't take years again."
The two of you are laying in bed, heads facing each other. It's a tight squeeze, but you refuse to let anyone into Azzy's bed, so this is the best they're going to get. Plus, autumn nights are cold, and if they're going to take over your body, you feel like it's only reasonable for them to share their body heat with you as compensation.
But right now, you frown, thinking about their words. They watch you, and if you weren't so used to their gaze, you'd be pushing their face away to escape it. Finally, unhelpfully, you shrug.
"You could have at least tried to give me an answer..." They complain.
You don't think you can come up with a better guess than them, though. It's not like you even remember the years they're talking about. Sure, you can tell sometimes that they're thinking about it by the way they look at you, but you try to ignore it. You never ask, either. It's better not to know.
Instead of answering them, you decide to do something you've never done before. You lean in, pressing your lips to theirs. It's like kissing your hand, with the way they stay frozen, and embarrassed, you draw back. But they don't look mad, or anything like that.
It's like you expected. Their eyes are glazed over, like they're lost in a memory. How many times did you kiss them, that you forgot? How close did you grow, in those years you can't remember?
Sighing, you pinch their cheek, firmly. Finally back in the moment, they open their mouth to protest, but instead you kiss them again. This time, they kiss back.
It's better not to know. It's better not to think about it. You only have Sunday, and Sunday, and Sunday, after all, until the final Sunday comes. This unmoving time will continue moving onwards, until the time the world unfreezes again, and the two of you will take your places once more.
You wonder if you loved them. You wonder if you'll come to love them again, before this procession of Sundays comes to an end. Hundreds of Sundays, and you've grown closer to them than you'd ever had thought of. Hundreds of Sundays, and you don't want to put a name to what you feel beating in your chest, in the hollow where they used to live. Because the moment Sunday comes to an end, you'll be the same as everyone else - you'll forget, and the game will go on. Your world will march forwards towards the prophecy, and your puppeteer will once again take hold of your strings, and you'll hate them for it. And they'll be left alone with their memories for who knows how long, until the next procession of days.
Is it cruel, what you're doing to them? You don't really know. You break the kiss anyway.
"Librarby tomorrow?" You mutter to them.
"Tomorrow?" Their eyes widen a little at the rare sound of your voice, but they don't say anything. You like that about them. You like how they seem to know all the things that trip you up, and avoid them effortlessly, and as long as you don't think about why everything's easy. "Yeah, let's go! I'm going to beat you at the computer games, Kris!"
There's no way they can do it - they're not horrible at games, but they're definitely worse than you. You raise an eyebrow exaggeratedly, and laugh when they groan.
"I'll show you, Kris! Just wait!" You're pretty sure they won't be showing you anything, but you'll give them a chance anyway.
These Sundays can only go on so long, but at the very least, you're pretty sure tomorrow will be a Sunday. And the day after that, and after that too. Sundays upon Sundays, an endless line of them.
Is it bad that a part of you wishes it'd be Sunday forever? Because at least that way things wouldn't change anymore. The ugly wound in the town that's named Dess won't heal, and your family won't come back together, but it won't get worse, either. Susie and Ralsei won't find out about what you've been doing, and the prophecy won't continue to accelerate towards you, bringing you closer and closer to its cruel ending.
And you'll remember them, day after day, and care for them just as easily as they care for you. Your stupid plans, and dumb games, and the pointless time you spend together, won't fade away. It'd be so easy, to stay frozen within a Sunday. Spending quiet, easy days in an unchanging world, just like this, with no ending in sight.
You keep your thoughts tucked away, sighing and curling into them. They might be surprised at your unusual clinginess - they're usually the one latching onto you like a leech, in fact - but they hug you back anyway. It's so warm in their arms that it's hard to believe it was cold at all. Hard to believe that the Knight and the shelter and everything else can even exist out there, outside of this cocoon. Hard to believe that a day after Sunday can ever come.
Closing yourself, you pray out once more. To the Angel, to the sky, to something else, you don't really know. Let tomorrow be the same Sunday as always, you think hard in the privacy of your mind, and hope that when your eyes open, it'll still be the same, familiar world facing you.