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Today is the.. you don't know, you just know it's been so long since.. you last saw her.
Memories of Dess appear behind your eyelids, happy Christmases, hangouts at the Dremurr's, her dead and cold body. On the grass, just outside of town. You remember it like it was yesterday, in your mind, her body never decomposed, it's still outside, in the rain, progressively getting colder. You never cared about being cold, actually you liked it way better than the opposite, but you would have done anything, even set yourself on fire to bring her just the slightest warmth.
They tried as much as they could to not let you approach her body in the hospital, but they all feared you so it wasn't that much resistance. Her cold body. Your daughter's cold body.
You couldn’t just let her get colder and colder. You had to find a way to wake her up. Your poor daughter. She was so cold. Everybody knew how driven you were, as the mayor you held this city by the reins. But you're sure they never thought you'd try, you too, to contact a demon.
And they probably never thought that it'd work. But it did. She was back. But her body was still getting colder. Not in the hospital anymore. But still getting colder. The creature left you plans to actually see your daughter. At that point, you stopped thinking reasonably. Nothing made sense since that day anyway.
Toriel kept looking at you with those kind but pitying eyes. Yes, maybe you rarely talked to her anymore. Maybe she is sincere. You know she is. But you don't have time anyways. That's what you tell them all. That's why you rarely see your husband in the hospital while his health worsen. That's why you barely interact with Noelle. And that's what you ask a friend of the family to take care of your home. You are just so busy.
“Carol ?” A familiar voice asked while knocking.
The voice surprises you, you quickly close the journal you were writing in.
“Yes ?” You answered, knowing well it was Ms Dremurr, behind that door.
“I'm happy you allowed me in, I know you only accept people with rendez-vous.”
You hummed your answer. Yes, it's true, but despite her pitying gaze unnerving you, you couldn't keep Toriel away from you. Everybody, even the ones who didn't like you, the ones who thought that you were cold as ice because of your reaction to everything, had pity for you. « poor mother” they said “she lost her baby » you hadn't lost anything. You knew where December was. You will get her back. You are strong because you know you will get her back. You are strong because you will succeed. But with all this pity you despised, Toriel's was the only one you felt as sincere. And that you could accept. Maybe you thought the same. She isn't Dess's mother, of course she would get over it. That's what close friends do. Family tries to get her back. They don't wait and cry. They don't get sick over it. They get stronger.
But you wouldn't mind it from Toriel. You appreciated Toriel's company. Toriel had this talent at appeasing every room she entered. People would say it’s because she is a mother. But nobody would ever say that about you. You knew anyways that it wasn’t just that. It was something about her, her personality, her way of smiling. The way every action she did carried some kind of reassuring warmth. Warmth.. You couldn’t help it. You thought again about her. Dess. She needs warmth. She must be so lost, all alone. Tears never fell on your cheeks, not anymore, you are stronger. But they do get behind your eyes quite often. Maybe too often. You aren’t strong enough.
Maybe it's not because Toriel is a mother that she is so great to be around, but it’s probably why she immediately knew about the tears you were doing so great at keeping in.
“Oh my, Carol are you alright?” said the woman who immediately let her demure appearance fall as concern took over. She approached your desk and instinctively cupped your cheek in her paw.
Yes, maybe their relationship had a bit strained since that day, but Toriel never stopped to consider you her dearest friend, and it showed in these moments. Where you felt comfortable to not be strong enough. Those rare moments when you could let her paw get humid by your tears, when you could let this warmth as close as you could. Like you were a fawn again. Young and full of hope. Hope of a free life. Free with a certain goat. Your closest friend. Your dearest friend.
She probably had new close friends ever since you kept pulling her away. Maybe, despite all she says, you aren’t her dearest friend anymore. But you could never replace her. Despite everything. Even if one day she decides it’s too much and to never talk to you again. She’d always be your closest. Like she always was since you met her. Since you first talked to her and her warmth made you stop thinking about all the mean things your mother told you. Made you stop doubting about the love you had. But you were never strong enough to tell her. And it’s so late now.
Maybe it’s too late. But you want to say it. You need to say it. You don’t want to risk having this strength too late, once Toriel finally understood that she shouldn't stay friends with you.
“Toriel..” you closed your eyes, they weren’t looking at her anyways, preferring the floor to her beautiful face.
“Yes?” your closest friend asked, with a worried voice, and her hand still cupping your face, you’d leaned in, letting it rest there.
“I love you Toriel.”