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Out of all the grocery runs he'd ever done, this wasn't the worst. Horror definitely had groceries, where previously he did not. That was a step in the right direction.
He'd made all the way to the store before the problems had started. First it was those little warning signs; a slight shake in their knees, a tight feeling in their chest. And now, here he was, trapped on an old weathered bench just by the entrance. Every time they tried to stand up, their legs shook like poplar trees in a storm, and their vision blurred.
Horror really should have brought his cane. He knew that, knew it even before he left, but nothing had hurt at the time; he'd figured it couldn't be that bad. They already got looks, and not the ones of nervous recognition that passers-by sometimes shot at Killer. The cane would only make it worse. He tried not to think about the time a random teenager had run up to him while he was waiting outside a store, and just kicked it out from under him. It hadn't happened since, but it still lived in the back of their head, along with countless little comments, glances, jeers. He forgot a lot, but those memories remained. Any moment, it could happen again. Better to be safe and in pain.
That was supposed to be the tradeoff, at least. But here they were, a fifteen minute walk away from home, and about 20 seconds of walking left in them. More if he left the groceries here, of course, but that wasn't exactly an option.
I'll give it an hour, 'n if 'm still stuck… Who's around at this time? Cross, maybe? He'd hate to bother anyone on their day off, but…
Horror's regretful train of thought was interrupted by an almost familiar exclamation.
"Oh, wow! Fancy seeing you here!"
They looked up. A white crop top, a dark sleeveless vest and matching baggy pants. Trying to recognise the face, Horror noted sparkly dark blue eyeliner and tiny, matching stars stamped on their cheek. Killer would love that, he thought, If I remember to tell him.
They did recognise the face, but the name escaped them. One of the members of Night's sister's band. He'd known what they were called, once, but the name was lost to time. Fortunately, she didn't wait for him to remember.
"You're one of Dust's bandmates, right?"
Horror blinked, bewildered. Dust's bandmate? Dust? Dust?? He doesn't go outside— well he does, more often now, but still… he ain't very social. How'd they meet?
Well, they were one of those, so they nodded.
"Designated grocery runner, huh? Me too!" They raised a couple plastic bags demonstratively, smiling. "Ink always forgets something and Dream's too busy." She put a hand up to her mouth, conspiratorially. "Or so she claims— oh!"
They slapped their palm to their forehead. "Wait, we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Blue."
"…Horror."
With the hair, the skin, and the stature, she could have been mistaken for a member of Horror's family. But it wasn't any physical resemblance that caught his attention— it was the smile. It was a dead ringer for their brother's.
But of course, they were both far too much of a character to be reduced like that.
Blue's smile widened a little. "Nice to meet you! I love your hair… I wish I had the time to keep it long."
Horror felt their cheeks heat up. He was getting more used to compliments, slowly, but someone he barely knew commenting on something he held so dear was hard to resist. They pulled a strand out of their face. "Thanks. I… like yours, too."
It wasn't just politeness, either. The flat twists were unfairly cute, making Horror itch for the more involved styles of his childhood. Maybe not exactly those styles—they might be a bit too feminine for him now—but still. They certainly had a lot more time now than when they first started transitioning. Lust would probably faint with excitement if he turned up before a show with beaded braids.
"Aww, you're so kind!" She shuffled from foot to foot, tucking a thumb in each pocket— at least someone here was brimming with energy. "Hey, you're headed to Tillbrook Road, right?" they asked.
"Yeah?"
"There's a cat café just down the street I've been meaning to visit," she explained. "What do you say I carry those and in return, you show me the way?"
Dust, huh? I've used that kinda trick on 'im before. But he couldn't deny his relief at the offer. They pushed off the bench, slightly, testing their legs. A mild shake— nothing they couldn't handle with empty hands.
"Sure," he agreed, and Blue lit up.
"Amazing!" They scooped up the bags in their already-laden arm, lifting them as if they were as light as a feather. Then, she offered her hand. "May I?"
Oh, damn, Horror thought. The rush of blood progressed to the tips of his ears. The words caught in his throat, so he just took their hand and pulled themself to their feet. He expected to be let go of once he was standing, but Blue tucked her arm in his.
The stability was much appreciated. He couldn't lean that much weight on them, but having a steady frame of reference made him less likely to stumble or fall. Besides, they had no doubt Blue could probably catch them regardless.
They made their way together, hand in hand. Blue chattered the whole way, taking Horror's stilted speech in stride. She didn't patronise, or finish his sentences, or just talk right over him. It was a skill not many bothered to refine. Horror wondered if they'd known someone who needed it, or they just practiced being a delight to be around in the mirror.
As they walked, Horror quickly noticed that Blue already knew the way. He'd figured, of course, but having confirmation made the gesture cuter. Horror played the part of the helpful tour guide anyways; Blue might've been there before, but that didn't mean there weren't still sights to see. Courtesy of trying to keep four idiots fed while they lost themselves in their work or their heads, he had a lot of recommendations for takeaway. Blue, apparently, was struggling with much the same task, and accepted them gratefully.
They swapped stories, recipes, advice. Phone numbers, too, once Horror remembered they had a phone. "Fast friends" would have been too strong a phrase, but they were certainly on the right track.
As they politely argued about bringing the groceries inside ("Really, it's no trouble—" "'M feelin' better, honest—"), Horror almost felt a sense of loss. He wasn't one for impulsive decisions—he didn't have the energy—but if there was any time for one, it was now.
"Are ya… meetin' anyone there?" he asked.
Blue looked at him curiously. "No, it was just a spur-of-the-moment decision. Why?"
"I gotta… drop these off, 'n get somethin' from inside, but… can I come with?"
At that, her whole face lit up, smiling so bright it almost hurt to look at.
"That would be lovely!" they beamed, and Horror finally understood why people called it that.
"Won't be long," he said, before disappearing through the door.
Inside, Killer was hastily roped into putting the groceries back, much to his dismay ("Aww, c'mon, I did it last time!"). Not planning to repeat the same mistakes twice, Horror grabbed their cane where it was resting by the door on the way out.
…And checked his hair in the mirror. Just in case.