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Castle Town is colder than she expected.
There’s a chill breeze that sweeps down the main passage towards the Grand Fountain, seeping into the colorful variety of brick, wood, and plaster buildings. The dark gravel crunches beneath Noelle’s hooves as Susie leads her towards the front gates, hands threaded together, with the brightest smile on her face.
Noelle expected something so dark to reek of gloominess, but Castle Town is the exact opposite. The lights are bright and vivid, windows shining like kaleidoscopes, decorating the walls with splashes of rainbow patterns.
“This is Lancer!” says Susie. She rests her palm on the shoulder of a much shorter Darkner. He’s round with a pointed hood that Noelle thinks is obscuring his eyes until she realizes his face is a spade. “He, uh… was kind of my first friend here.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Lancer,” says Noelle with a smile on her face.
She tries to remain present as Susie introduces her to the town’s inhabitants. Some are familiar, like Tasque, Werewire, and Virovirokun, and Noelle is even surprised to feel genuine delight in seeing the Maice again. And some faces are new, like Jackenstein, who Susie insists is sweet and kind-hearted despite his intimidating stature.
But the image of her father sitting in that sterile, white hospital bed with tubing protruding from his muzzle is stained on the inside of her eyelids.
Susie is responding to something Jack says with a hearty laugh when something flickers in the corner of Noelle’s eye. When she follows it, she spots Kris on the other side of the courtyard, red eyes boring into hers like thorns.
Their eyes meet. Kris looks away. Their arm is crossed over their torso, fiddling with the sleeve of their black undershirt.
Noelle jumps when Susie bumps their shoulders together. Her smile falls when she traces Noelle’s gaze and finds Kris attempting to hide in the darkness.
“We should probably say hi, yeah?” she asks.
“Mh.”
Susie trudges towards them and Noelle follows her like a shadow. When they approach, Kris’s shoulders stiffen and they reproduce that same rigid posture Noelle remembers from their time in Cyber City.
“Hey,” says Susie. “Didn’t tell me you were coming today.”
Kris shrugs noncommittally.
“You didn’t tell me, either,” they reply hoarsely.
Their eyes flick over to Noelle lazily and she shrinks back, suddenly feeling a weight of shame.
“I mean, you always know where I’m at, don’t you?” says Susie. She scratches the scales on the side of her neck with one claw. Noelle can tell her voice is strained with an impressive amount of willpower, far more practiced than the hot-headedness she exhibited mere days ago. “You could’ve said something, man. I haven’t seen you all day.”
Kris turns back to Susie. Their expression is as apathetic as ever and they remain silent for a long moment before narrowing their eyes into a piercing glare.
“I’m not your first priority anymore,” they say. “Why should you be mine?”
Susie stiffens like a board. Noelle can feel the fur on the back of her neck standing on end, burning with guilt even when she doesn’t know what she could have possibly done wrong. Before either of them can reply, Kris skirts around them.
“I have things to do,” they say vaguely.
Kris vanishes into the pillar of light, ascending back towards the Light World above. Noelle studies her hooves with a frown.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks.
Susie releases a puff of hot air. “No. Don’t worry about it,” she says. She lays a bulky arm around Noelle’s shoulders and hugs her close, eliciting a dark blush across her cheeks. “They’ve been weird lately. There’s a lot of stuff going on, and… they’ll come around. I know it.”
Noelle hums, resting her head against Susie’s collar bone.
The next day at school, Kris sleeps through most of class again. Noelle can’t tell if the circles under their eyes have grown darker or if she’s just seeing things. When the lunch bell finally rings, she takes her place at Susie’s side instead of her usual seat with Catti and Jockington, who have been shooting sharp looks at her nonstop since the festival.
She expects Kris to join them, but she doesn’t see them during lunch at all.
“Are you sure they’re doing okay?” Noelle asks again. She even waited at their locker when class ended to intercept them, to no avail.
Susie purses her lips.
“They haven’t said anything to me,” she says. She pinches the bridge of her snout between her thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m pushing too hard after what happened with their dad.”
Noelle remembers Susie informing her of the Flower King Dark World and the insidious Knight that captured Mr. Dreemurr. It sends a shiver down her spine.
“It’s not your fault,” she says when she finds Susie’s hand curling into a fist. She lays her palm over her forearm. “They’ve always been like this. I’ll find some time to talk to them, okay?”
Susie releases a low rumble from the back of her throat when Noelle leans into her side.
Wednesday rolls around, and when Noelle leaves the hospital after visiting her father, she’s caught off guard by a furious rainstorm. She holds her thin, checkered vest over her antlers, racing back towards her home’s gate until she realizes her pockets are empty.
“Darn it!” Noelle hisses under her breath.
Of all the days to forget her key.
Puddles splash flecks of rainwater and mud across her ankles. She finds brief respite beneath the canopies of golden trees lining the sidewalk, but her clothes are already drenched, and she can feel the chill in her bones.
Before, she would stop by Catti’s house. But that was out of the question, now.
Perhaps she could go back to Castle Town? But the school was halfway across town, and Noelle really didn’t feel like exposing herself to the downpour again.
As she weighs her options, Noelle hears a set of damp footsteps approaching, and glances up to see Kris beneath the safety of a bright yellow umbrella.
“Kris?” asks Noelle. “Thank goodness.”
Kris looks her up and down.
“Key?” they ask simply. Noelle knows what they mean, even if they’re lacking the words.
“Yeah,” she laughs with her teeth chattering. “I forgot again. Think I can come over for a bit?”
Kris ponders this, and for a long moment, Noelle is afraid that they’ll tell her no. But when they raise their umbrella to offer a space for her beside them, relief washes over her.
Noelle steps in with them. The pale sky shines an array of yellowish dapples through the umbrella across their shoulders. When she’s this close, she can get a better look at their face, or at least, what she can see of it.
Their eyes are half-lidded. Their eyebags have indeed grown darker, more sunken, resembling more of a nasty bruise than a paltry sign of sleep deprivation. There’s a long, vertical cut across the side of their lip that has already scabbed over, and Noelle guesses it’s from one of the many Dark Worlds they’ve adventured in within the past few days.
Also, Noelle notes to herself that the bridge of their nose is still covered in freckles.
When finally they reach Kris’s house, Noelle stands awkwardly outside of the front door, her sleeves sopping wet and dripping puddles onto the concrete. Kris goes inside to retrieve a set of towels from upstairs. She begins drying her hair, her hooves, and what she can from her clothes, but they’re in such a wretched state she can’t tell if the towels absorbed anything at all.
“Use the shower,” Kris mumbles to her. “I’ll bring down some clothes. You can borrow them.”
“Thanks, Krismas,” says Noelle. The nickname rolls off her tongue instinctively and she cringes, anticipating a grimace on their lips. But their face remains as blank and unchanging as ever.
Noelle steps into the shower after leaving a pile of soggy clothes on the tile floor.
She watches the murky, tinted water pool around her hooves before circling down the drain.
Back when they were kids, she, Kris, Asriel, and Dess would have water balloon fights on the front lawn. Afterwards, when all four of them were dripping wet from head to toe, Ms. Toriel would make them take turns using the shower before sending them home with fresh clothes.
Her mother was never happy to find her two daughters standing on the front porch, wearing different outfits than what they left with, and holding a plastic bag full of their ruined garments.
Noelle climbs out of the shower and wraps herself in a fresh towel. She finds a stack of clothes laid neatly on the sink countertop. Kris must have left them quietly while she was daydreaming, Noelle thinks, as she lifts the shirt to study the print.
It’s an old band shirt that she recognizes. Concert dates are listed on the backside, worn and faded from extended use, and the front features a large logo that fills her with a warm sense of nostalgia.
Dess convinced their mothers to allow the three of them to attend an Icon for Hire concert in the nearby city. Afterwards, Kris came home with an oversized shirt that went down to their knees, and whenever their mothers heard the loud bass vibrating from the earbuds they shared with Noelle, they would grumble something about regretting giving in.
Noelle’s expression softens. She slips the shirt on and wears the skirt that comes with it.
“Kris?” Noelle asks as she climbs the staircase.
They’re not in their bedroom. Kris’s side is nearly empty, save for their bedside drawers and a glowing star sitting over their bed. Noelle shivers at the creepy old birdcage nested in the corner.
Perhaps they slipped outside for something?
Whatever the reason is, Noelle’s hair is damp and knotted, and she won’t be able to rest until she combs it through.
Noelle searches Kris’s bedside table for a hairbrush. The surface is rather plain, but when she opens the top drawer, she finds a scrambled mess. There’s old papers crammed inside, homework, garbage, and writing utensils.
She has to dig through old wrappers to find the familiar gel grip of Kris’s hairbrush, but when she retrieves it, she spots something that stops her in her tracks.
At the bottom of the junk drawer is a small, white envelope covered in bright red and yellow stickers, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the other items. It’s carefully placed in the far back corner as if it’s something Kris doesn’t want anyone to find.
Against her better judgement, Noelle takes the packet and, upon closer inspection, discovers the stickers are an array of warning labels. Bold black letters detail the toxicity of the contents, the dangers of ingesting them, and the consequences of doing so.
Noelle feels sick to her stomach.
What is Kris doing with deadly poisonous flower seeds?
The door behind her creaks open and Kris steps inside. Noelle considers shoving the envelope back into the drawer and pretending like she’s seen nothing at all, but there’s a voice in her head that screams for her to say something.
She remains still. Kris’s eyes fall to her hands.
“Kris,” says Noelle. Her voice is taut. “What are you doing with these?”
Their bangs obscure their eyes in shadow, but their lips betray their mask of apathy. Kris opens their mouth, then closes it, pressing their lips into a thin line.
“They’re from Dad,” they say simply.
Noelle figured they were from the flower shop in some capacity. It wasn’t as if the convenience store was stocked with botanical goods, much less dangerous ones. But that did nothing to explain why they were in Kris’s possession. She knew Mr. Dreemurr well enough to know he was at least partially aware of his child’s self-destructive behavior, and the likelihood that he willingly handed them over is slim.
“That doesn’t answer anything,” says Noelle stubbornly. “You’re hiding them, aren’t you? You’re not supposed to have them.”
Kris flexes their fingers.
“I don’t see why that matters.”
Noelle sinks into the edge of Kris’s mattress. She hangs her head, covering her face in her hands.
“This isn’t fair,” she says. She despises how her voice wobbles. “Dess left. Mom isn’t talking to me. Dad is dying. I thought I could be happy with you and Susie, but now you’re just going to leave me, too?”
Kris’s voice hitches in their throat. They step forward tentatively.
“Noelle,” Kris mutters. Their voice is uncharacteristically soft. “I didn’t… I wasn’t…”
“Don’t lie to me!” Noelle snaps. Her fist crinkles the envelope in her hands. “I know how this goes. You drift away and hope no one notices something is wrong. And then you disappear.”
She raises her head, wiping a line of tears from her eyes with one hand. Kris is standing in front of her, lips parted with shallow breaths.
“Where have you been all day, Kris?”
“I was… taking a phone call.”
“Oh, yeah?” Noelle huffs. “With who?”
Kris looks down at their feet.
“I can’t tell you.”
Noelle breathes an airy, hollow breath. “Right,” she mutters. “Another secret. One I’m always the last person to know about. Nothing’s changed.”
“I… need it,” Kris says in a hushed voice. “Just in case.”
Her chin is slick with tears.
“Just in case of what, Kris?”
“In case it doesn’t work out.”
Her chest is tight. Noelle hugs her arms around her shoulders. There’s something in their voice that reminds her of how Dess behaved before she disappeared, a stark reflection of her despondence.
“I can’t do this again, Kris,” she sobs. “I can’t lose someone else. I can’t.”
The ink on the seed packet smears beneath her thumb.
“Kris—”
She’s interrupted by the warm pressure of Kris’s lips against hers, rough and chapped. Noelle jumps in surprise, dropping the envelope somewhere on the carpet, hands raised at their sides. She tastes salt and she isn’t sure if its her own tears or theirs.
Kris breaks away like they were burned.
Noelle sees their face, hair swept away, eyes glistening with tears and shame. Their chin shakes.
“I’m sorry,” says Kris. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Before they can mutter another apology, Noelle grasps them by the wrist and pulls them close. She presses her lips against the corner of her mouth, turning to swallow the gasp that leaves their throat. They stumble into her lap, awkwardly pressed against her and the mattress with a hand on her thigh to stabilize themself.
She feels like she’s drowning. Clinging to Kris like they’re a lifeboat. But they’re sinking too, and she can taste it.
Noelle doesn’t know when or how it happens, but she’s leaning over them, one hand sprawled beside their head to hold herself above them, other pressed into the side of their neck. She can feel Kris’s pulse fluttering against her thumb, fast and frantic, a reminder that they’re still breathing. Still alive.
Kris’s cheeks are wet and flushed. Noelle separates for just a moment to give herself time to breathe, but they’re pulling her back down with them.
Each kiss makes her feel worse. It tears open that black hole in her chest, bigger and bigger, until it’s large enough to swallow them both whole.
She doesn’t know how long she stays there. Kris’s lips are swollen and she’s pretty sure the copper she tastes on her tongue is their blood. Their hips are trapped between her knees, and when she rises, they remain sprawled out beneath her like a snow angel.
The edges of their eyes are pink. There’s a bruise on their neck where Noelle bit them, and the sight of it fills her with a horrid feeling of guilt.
Susie could see it.
Susie, who finally gave Noelle a chance and opened her heart to her. Susie, who let her inside of her home, inside of Castle Town, with her heart on her sleeve.
She thinks she might throw up.
Noelle rises to her hooves, picking up the packet from the carpet. Kris stares emptily at the ceiling as she walks towards the door.
“I’m taking these,” Noelle murmurs.
Kris says nothing.
When she approaches the front door, Noelle takes the umbrella Kris walked her with. She’d rather wait hours inside the cramped, suffocating hospital waiting room than spend another minute alone with Kris and the reminder of what they just did together.
There are too many thoughts swirling in her head. Too many things she wants to say.
To do.
She can go to Castle Town, she thinks. But the thought of facing Susie after all that makes the pit in her stomach grow.
Noelle closes the door behind her. She steps out into the rain, fingers gripping the seed packet tightly. She can throw it out somewhere, she thinks, in the bottom of some random trash can where Kris can’t find it, and where no one else would dig through.
Another thought crosses her mind.
She could keep it in her room, where she can keep an eye on it.
Her stomach churns. She holds the umbrella tighter, eyes pinned to the shiny wet concrete beneath her hooves.
Noelle feels like a hypocrite.
Maybe she can’t be trusted with the seeds, either.