Author Notes:

O HAY HOW U DOIN? ITS CHAPTER FIVE; SPRINGTIME BONANZA EXPLOSION! 12/12/2012 AIN'T THAT A BITCH EDITION. Here are my notes for you holiday reader:

So, okay, I know you're just like "Bro, where the absolute fuck was this chapter at weeks and weeks ago?" And I'm here to tell you that got-DAMN I can't have some homemade macaroni and cheese with potatoes first!? LOL just kidding! But on a more serious note I had to make some moves and I didn't have internet for a while so that's basically why there was the longer than usual wait. I like all my resources in front of me when doing any sort of draft on a chapter so to not have it was teeth-grinding. Not to mention the editing and looking over and over and whatnot. Whew! It took a minute. So I'm here to say that I'm sowwy and I hope the double-length as well as the content more than makes make up for it. u^u Yes darlings it's the chapter some if not most have been waiting for, the one that could potentially get the whole story eradicated from the site. (Of course, I have a backup plan on standby because I'm so fabulous) So let me get right to it! This chapter covers one hell of a lot. It's split in the center into two parts because that's literally how long it is and you can take a break if need be. All the alpha characters are involved at some point or another and there is more of Kurloz's perspective which is essential for all the challenges, breakthroughs and introspection I put in the narration of his and Meulin's 'ship'. On a related note, I know most of you are anxious about what Gamzee is going to do and what plans he has and I am here to reassure you that it is indeed coming! Watch for the hints here and there and you might be more in the know than others! But what I would actually like for you to do is relax and slowly ease your way through this chapter because trust me you're going to need it lol. I want to give an exceptionally large thank you to my patient and vigorous readers who gave this silly story a chance! I reached 7k which I mean how that happened I'll never know! How do y'all do it?! I put in twice the research, human element and love just to let you know you're appreciated and so that you can have a happy holiday or upcoming holiday break. There will be more chapters coming. I won't say how many because I can't promise a number but I do need to tell you that there won't be an update until 2013 because, well, you know, imma be partying like a mf so yeah sorry boo-boo's YA AIN'T MA LIFE. But it has been a pleasure to write for you and I hope I've been able to upkeep the quality. If not, well at least I can laugh knowing you're about to read awkward moments because let's face it I'm a damn troll even if there is method to the madness. Well, that's about it! Fly free my festive butterflies! *U*

TL;DR WOAH NIGGA YOU EXPECT ME TO READ ALL DAT AUTHOR SHIT by you, no, absolutely not. 'TIS THE HOLIDAY SEASON TO BE EXTREMELY, ABSOLUTELY SUPER DAMN LATE. WHAT IS CONSISTENT TENSE AND CONTINUITY? I DON'T CARE ANYMORE. COME AT ME BRO. COME . AT . ME . BRO. AWW, YOU WANT SENSITIVE KURLOZ AND SWEETIE PIE MEULIN? GET OUT MY FACE WITH DAT BULLSHIT. YOU BETTA ASK SANTA CLAUSE! P.S BE SAFE OUT IN DEM STREETS. 38D HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND NEW YEAR!

Ok, have fun! And thank you for indulging me 38*

Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. I am not affiliated nor do I make any profit from this story.

Chapter 5: Something In the Way You Are

Part I

Kurloz hesitated to form his response, not clearly knowing the context of why he was given clemency. His tone was hushed.

"…Why?"

He observed the peculiar understanding in her features, savored the brush of her thumb on his cheek and the faint heartbeat that pounded between their hands.

"Because I thought I knew what I was getting myself into and I didn't."

The strong hold on his heart was lifted and replaced with a gaping, abysmal feeling.

"What do you mean?"

Meulin looked downward at various, crumpled wrinkles on the edge of his amaranthine shirt. There was a solemnity that overwhelmed her compassionate eyes. Kurloz bit the corner of his bottom lip, feeling the affection on his cheek come to a halt. Along with the dull headache, he couldn't stand his mind being elusive about what he did or might not have done. His brow creased at a fuzzy memory of gloss on a saturated, red door and collective laughter…

…It would have become clear if he hadn't focused on her voice.

"I don't think I can explain it right now. I'm sorry."

Meulin looked up again and his teeth chewed on the soft flesh until it let go. Her hand on his cheek lowered itself to the center of her ash-colored skirt.

"I know it seems weird because I'm missing school, which is something I never do, but, I mean, all I really wanted was see if you were alright."

"Well I'm not."

She became remorseful.

"Why?"

"Because you won't motherfuc-"

He hastily shut his eyes and compressed his lips, not wanting to take out his displeasure on her. After a sigh out of nose he focused on the hand lying on her lap and tried again.

"Because you won't tell me what you wanna say."

"I do, just not right now."

"Then what was the point of coming here, Meulin?"

"Because, I-"

Meulin huffed and glanced down to the abstract swirls on the floorboard. She fidgeted with the end of her skirt, him now conscious of the nervous tic.

"Kurloz,"

She glanced back at his silk shirt.

"This isn't easy for me. I came here because I care about you. What I want to say can't wait for too long."

Her shoulders hunched and her eyes moved back to his lips.

"But I will wait until the end of this week."

"Why can't you just tell me now?"

"Because I don't want to!"

His lips became stiff and he drummed his toes on the floor, unable to suppress his will to become apathetic.

"Fine."

"I know it's late but happy birthday."

"Thanks."

The air became tense and Meulin loosened the grip on his hand out of apprehension. Kurloz noticed her back straighten as she licked her lips, eyes darting across the bed sheets and badly wanted to press his own lips against hers in apology because even he didn't understand why he was acting in this way.

After a while, she spoke again.

"Um, I'll just…text you later, I guess."

Her hand brushed against his as she got up from the bed, straightened her skirt and headed toward the bedroom doorway. The streaks of pale, golden light moved across her body and he bore witness to her otherworldly essence, specks of dust floating violently around the changing air. She stopped when she reached the casing and turned her head back which gave him a chance at redemption for his behavior.

He didn't take it.

There were many perks to becoming empathetic in his illegal work and perceiving the intent from his customers was one of them. Whether they were trustworthy, shady or enigmatic, it wasn't that hard to decipher. To use that trait on Meulin was more than effortless. Even if she didn't speak or reserve herself like she did then, he could always conclude the overall feelings.

But in that moment, he wished he hadn't. There was an unsettling mixture of confusion, distress, embarrassment, longing and even infatuation. He wasn't sure which one she leaned towards most and it disheartened him.

In the end, she left without another word and it left Kurloz to meditate his next moves. Perhaps a long shower, some medicine and maybe a thought about where to put his precious gift which he was now undeserving of would distract his troubled, evasive mind. He stood, left the shipping wall where it lay, dragged his feet across the wooden floor, the rectangular cream carpet and finally the white rug in front of his dresser. His hands opened the first drawer that was filled with nothing but stacks of papers, bills and useless trinkets. Some of the white voodoo dolls that sat atop it careened by the unpleasantly rough movement.

He grabbed a lighter, a cigarette from an open pack, put it in his mouth and lit it, settling for penance.

"HEY, MEULIN!"

"…"

Cronus became crestfallen at the lack of response, momentarily forgetting her handicap.

It was three twenty-six, after school on a Friday. Meulin was slumped on a wooden bench behind the school parking spaces and waited for her high class companions to arrive for their shopping spree. It was more for Meenah because there were gold colored sneakers on hold she wanted to personally acquire at some lesser known retail store. She was bundled up in one of Horuss's olive, military wool coats with black buttons, one of her cat sweaters she got for Christmas, blue jeans and cat-themed rain boots. As usual, her ears and tail were present. While the weather didn't harbor any physical snow, it was frosty around cars, edges of curbs and tree branches. One could never be too sure, especially since it became nippy in the evenings.

An odd trio that approached out of school grounds and on the sidewalk stayed unnoticed, she too busy trying to keep warm and musing daunting matters.

"Yo, is that the deaf girl?...What a doll."

Cronus smacked his tongue on the roof of his mouth and smirked at Rufioh. He plucked an unlit cigarette out of his mouth and tucked it behind an ear.

"Everyone is a doll to you. Everyone…except for me!"

He put on a sad face and faked a few sobs while Mituna grimaced at the desperate exhibit.

"Ruhf ALREEDY HASs a Man andsO DOES MEUMUE."

"Yeah, we know chief."

"Oh damn, son…who is it?"

"It's his majesty, spooky too scary-san."

"Really?...That's some crazy shit!...I would have expected someone older."

"Yeah, I thought so too! He probably realizes nobody with status or class would go for 'em so now he prefers jailbait? Whatever lets him fuck at night, I guess."

"ShE'S NINNTEN, GOGDaM!"

"And he's a Mack Daddy. If I had known beforehand I would have wooed him with some of my cool mix tapes. Why are you even trying to argue this, Mituna? You still don't even know where your helmet is!"

Mituna lowered his head which was covered with wisps of hair. At lunch time, Cronus had dared him to take off his safety helmet for more than an hour. Before he knew it, he had no idea where he left it or whom could have taken it. In class, he drew many sad profiles on his Spanish verb conjugation worksheets.

"I always thought dude had some pretty dope game…At least when he tried to mack on me."

"What!? Tell me when that happened!"

"A damn long time ago…It was at some sick party across the bridge…he didn't realize I was with someone then…Oh man, I remember him handing me a drink and next thing I knew his hand was on my ass-"

"YoU TOW MAKE Me FUCKKNG SICK, FUCK."

Cronus rolled his eyes and walked faster towards Meulin. It wasn't so much their homosexual tendencies and preferences that grinded Mituna's gears, rather the slandering of his best friend and his life choices all in one conversation. To this day, he still doesn't know why he continues to hang out with them, maybe at some chance they'll actually grow to be his genuine school friends. That thought alone made him want to draw all the sad faces on his future homework.

Rufioh was just visiting from a neighboring community college and was slowly starting to regret his decision. Mituna did nothing but cramp his cool and Cronus wouldn't stop hitting on him. He could never figure out exactly what preference he was and just concluded it was anything that moved and gave him the time of day.

He was relieved when Cronus's next victim wasn't himself. Cronus plopped himself beside Meulin who had just noticed him approach and gave her a cheeky smile.

"Hey there, beautiful!"

"Hi, Cronus! Are you with them?"

She pointed towards the pair behind him.

"Those slimy assholes? Not really."

"WHaT THE ACKTUAL FUCK!"

Cronus 'slicked' his gel-hardened hair back and sneered.

"Meu, I can call you Meu, right? Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, I don't see why not!"

"Have you heard from Makara? The handsome one, not the weird runt."

She inwardly moped, not wanting to dwell upon his existence or even the personal commitment she had to perform the next day. The plan was to lighten her mood by accepting the offer Meenah and Aranea planned for the evening but it seemed like everywhere she looked for distractions, the many unpleasant outcomes that could transpire between them couldn't be shaken off in her mind.

"No, I'm sorry. He's busy with work."

"Ah, that's alright. I know you're associated with 'em so I thought I should ask."

"Ok, CaN WE goNOW? I NEED TO FINSD MY HaMLET!"

Cronus snickered, not bothering to look back.

"Aww, Captor misses his weed man! See, Nitram, we're not the only ones who favors the dick."

"FUCK OYU FUUCK YOU QODDAMN!"

Meulin blinked, unsure of where that came from or if she even wanted to know. Weren't Mituna and him just friends? Rufioh put his hands up in trepidation.

"Woah!...Chill out, Cronus…What If Latula hears all that?"

"Eh, she ain't one to harm unless there's physical damage to his lanky bod."

Mituna rolled his eyes, which no one could see due to his heavy collection of bangs.

"Oh well, I'll just ask you! You're a woman of common sense and stature, right?"

"Um…"

"Ok, see, what had happened was, I ordered cable with my roommate, Kankri. We share the bills equally and what not. So, three months have passed since then and I recently saw an increase in our amount due so I wondered what the hell happened! I got all the bills together and turns out they charged us higher than usual for a whole week! Crazy, right? I, of course, called with the intent of yelling at someone's incompetence but turns out the whole time we had this free trial of Cinemax and Starz! Because I, and I quote, 'didn't call ahead to remove the subscription', they automatically made it official after the free trial was done and started to charge me! God, Kankri wouldn't stop lecturing me about it. 'NINETY-FIVE DOLLARS AND SEVENTY FOUR CENTS?!' Whiny little…!"

Mituna cackled so hard it looked like he was a kid ride that been given too many quarters and was having seizures. Rufioh couldn't lie and say he didn't doze off in-between the long and rather boring block of speech.

"Shut it, you bumbling ret-…thick-headed fella. Anyway, Meu, darling-"

He put a gloved hand on her shoulder and started to massage it. Meulin instantly became uncomfortable.

"-Don't you think I'm right in the fact that they should call their customers ahead and ask if they want the subscription, not the other way around?"

Meulin didn't respond right away and it was so silent, if a cricket could chirp in the bitter cold it would have.

"I don't really have any experience with all that, but, um, your explanation makes sense."

"Of course it does. I think It's perfectly reasonable and when I get down to their building I'm going to give one of their workers a piece of my humble mind. Thanks, lovely."

All Meulin wanted was the touching to cease. Now she knew how Mituna felt when she saw Cronus getting all hands-on with him on more than multiple occasions.

"Damn, Cronus…You don't know you have you hit them up ahead of time?"

Cronus whipped his head towards Rufioh.

"Well I do now! But that isn't the point! The point is, I believe it's the cable company's job to phone me and ask if I want to keep their stupid, automatic subscriptions!"

Mituna cackled even harder. Cronus looked back to Meulin who was starting to show small signs of her uncomfortable demeanor by putting her hands in Horuss's huge pockets and smiling lesser than normal.

"I wanted to ask Mr. Mack Daddy since I know he's been paying bills forever. I'm sure he would agree with me."

"NO HE WouLDN'T, He's SMUt. SMURT. SMARK. FFFUCK!"

"RUDE."

"I'm sorry."

Meulin couldn't help but become wary of the fact that he was also well-versed in the ways of adulthood while she was just scraping by with her mother's help. The age difference never exactly bothered her much but the small things were making her realize how far away she was from his level.

Being mature is hard and nobody understands.

Meanwhile, a fuchsia ford focus pulled up directly behind their bench and an aquatic-themed senior popped her head out of the driver's window.

"But you'll get in touch with him eventually, won't you? Aren't you two an item or something?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that."

HONK.

"Oh, really? Does that mean you're fair game?"

"I'm what?"

"Fair game? Could a sensitive and intriguing greaser with a sense of humor and style sweep you off of your feet?"

"Oh! Uh, not right now."

"Well, when could I-I mean, when could he do that?"

HONK-HONK

"It depends on how things go tomorrow."

"Oh? Having boyfriend troubles? I'm way experienced in that, almost…too experienced. If you want, I could come over sometime and give you tips on how to handle it."

"It's nothing like that…well…I don't know."

"Hey, trust me. I'm the man you want to go for all that, you know?"

"I just…"

"C'mon, pretty thing. Give me a cha-"

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK.

"HELL-O! WHAT THE SHUCK, YOU GUYS? I'M ALMOST TO THE POINT OF LOATHIN YOU!"

Meenah seethed in her seat with shoulders hunched while Latula giggle-snorted from the back seat and Aranea just kept reading her assigned writing novel in the passenger side.

"Clammit…! NITRAM!"

Rufioh looked over and waved to her.

"Hey, doll!"

"'HEY' NOFIN! TAP LEIJON ON HER SHOULDER, SHE'S RUININ MY JOKE!"

"…Joke?"

Rufioh shrugged and did as he was instructed, pointing to the vehicle afterward. Cronus removed his hand from Meulin's shoulder while she looked over to Meenah practically foaming at the mouth.

"GET IN LOSER, WE'RE GOIN SHOPPIN."

Of course, Meulin couldn't see what she said from so far away but decided it had something to do with getting inside of the car. Latula had already stepped outside, most likely gotten a ride from the pair to be with Mituna and his gang. Meulin said her small goodbyes to the trio, walked around the bench, past the shrubbery and on to the parking lot to greet Latula before replacing her spot in the back seat.

Meenah, at last, relaxed herself in the driver's seat and rolled up her window before looking back at the shivering cat girl.

"Finally! I never thought you would leave the three stooges! Mama has a pair of sneaks on hold and they are callin me to come home!"

She proceeded to reverse and drive off in the general direction of a Beforus strip mall. Latula, however, greeted the trio with a grin and hands behind herself.

"Well, bros, I leave mt in your care while I skated away for rad higher learning and I find this with paycheck!"

She adjusted her shiny, red shades with one hand and revealed Mituna's helmet behind her back with the other. Cronus blanched.

"They informed me that someone actually challenged him to take it off! Now which lucky poser do I have the honor of face planting with my choice board?"

Cronus hid behind Rufioh in terror while Rufioh put his hands up in surrender. Mituna laughed so hard he got on his knees and complained about his sides.

Meulin couldn't believe her very eyes. They walked all around a bare bones plaza to stroll inside a department store that sold some extreme but pretty lavish outfits. Overhead, multicolored lights that looked like they belonged in a theater brightened the powder maroon walls and dark blue tiles. The clothes held variety but maintained the same theme: Club wear. From short, form-fitting dresses, ripped jeans, shirts with witty sayings to booty shorts, lingerie racks with multiple sales, stocking and heels, it almost seemed like Meenah's dream store.

Said guppy-lips walked in front of the pair and lifted her arms in joy.

"Welcome, ladies, to Sapphire Palace!"

Meulin witnessed the antsy fashionista make a one eighty and bee line towards the shoes, drooling at six inch stacked heels, mustard-colored winter boots and of course, sneakers. Aranea tapped Meulin on her shoulder.

"Don't mind her! Once she's inside, it's like it's her own little grotto. Let's go say hi to the only employee that works here on this shift, shall we?"

They both ambled towards the cashier desk at the very back of the store. What emerged from the stock room behind it was not something anyone could prepare for. An undeniably gorgeous female donned a black and green dress and sauntered around the desk so Meulin could ogle the pointed, green heels she wore. Said female leaned against the desk behind her and folded her arms, revealing the large, henna-inspired tattoos that surrounded them.

"Porrim!"

Meulin blurted it out, not wanting to lose the sudden memory of her name. It would have left as fast as it came.

"Yes, that's me."

Porrim smiled gracefully, giving life to her almost glowing, dolled up face. The sultry green and black make-up as well as her carefully placed piercings made Meulin's heart pitter-patter with intimidation. In all honesty, no introduction was required as Porrim Maryam was known by plenty sources inside and outside of school. She used to work in the fashion industry, got her bachelor's degree in marketing and settled down by opening up her own boutique. Her incessant appetite for sexual fulfillment caused her to be negligent that dream, it crashing and burning with little regret. With the current recession going on, she was laid off of her old job as an accountant and was hired in Sapphire Palace ran by someone else. Now, she's only known as 'the hungry sex-cougar who would leave her consent on.'

"I see my best customer is already mine for the taking."

Aranea laughed.

"She's just distracting herself from not pestering you about those shiny shoes you have for her."

"Well, maybe if I'm lucky, she'll see something else she wants. Business is booming rapidly as usual but you can clearly see that."

This was obviously a joke as nobody was in the store but them.

"Aww, I'm sorry Porrim!"

"Don't feel sorry for me. Beautiful women are the only motivation I need to get up and come here every day. Speaking of beauties, who is this here? Haven't I seen her before?"

Meulin's cheeks flushed and she was too shy to interject in the conversation but Aranea carried it out.

"Oh! This is Meulin! She was at the end of the summer party way back when, remember?"

"I believe I can't recall. I've been to so many parties now-a-days, I should sign up for the Guinness world record."

"I'm sure you'd break all their stats. So, how goes the endless quest for party gossip?"

"Thriving marvelously to my own surprise. Can you believe that all those bodies we've been hearing about in the news is due to some sort of new, untraceable hallucinogenic?"

"Is that so? It can't be from anyone we know."

"I hope not."

Meulin had somewhat spaced out of the conversation, looking around the store and wondering if there was anything she'd might like to try on. The wisest advice she got about shopping was that she could look everywhere in her favorite store and find nothing to buy while looking for five seconds in an unfamiliar store only to find exactly what she wanted.

"Anyway, how goes the monogamous quest with your darling guppy?"

"Hey, look, are those spider lace stockings on sale? I'd better go check it out! You said you needed help in sales, didn't you? Here I go, away to the sale, avoiding the subject around said guppy!"

Aranea murmured the last part, cursing Porrim and her ability to find information when it wasn't even readily available to her. Meulin didn't even realize she was alone with her until it was too late. She looked up at her smile again and it racked her nerves.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Miss Leijon."

"Yes, you also!"

"You know, I've heard nothing but positive things about you from your friends which is a rare treat for me considering they talk nothing but nonsense about everyone else. Well, I take that back. It's mostly Peixes who does that."

Meulin giggled and it alleviated some of her tension.

"I also heard that you're quite curvaceous. Is this true?"

She hunched her shoulders in modesty.

"Oh, I don't know. I think they're just trying to be nice."

"Nice or not, I'm curious. I sense a sultry but innocent outfit in your future..."

Porrim started to walk and Meulin automatically followed like a duckling around various racks of clothing until she slowed beside the maroon wall on her right which held many dresses on display. She tapped a manicured nail on her lip ring, casually walking beside each outfit until she daintily reached over and picked up a hanger. It held a cream colored, form fitting sweater dress and her hand put it in front of Meulin's body.

"Hmm. I think this would look good with some red leggings."

"And maybe some dam heels for once!?"

Meenah eventually snapped out of her shoe stupor and joined the duo with two pairs of sneakers already in each hand. She stood beside Porrim and tilted her head.

"Dag. Even you can figure out how predictable her tastes are."

"I'm simply good at my job."

"Whale go ahead and stunt on the haters, then. Listen, lemme go in the back and sea if these are in my size."

Porrim shook her head in amusement.

"You already know that's not possible due to the security cameras. And I can tell you no one the right one and…maybe on the left. I'll double-check after I've finished helping out my first customer. Why don't you go see Aranea, huh? I hear she's picking out lace stockings and perhaps panties to match?"

Meulin was sure Aranea didn't mention anything about underwear but Meenah was already on the prowl, interest piqued to an almost villainous level. She looked back up at Porrim.

"Meulin, I sense that you have some sort of decision you must implement, possibly as early as tomorrow?"

She froze. A lump caught in her throat and hindered her ability to respond in a timely manner.

"How did you…?"

"It's like Meenah said, you're somewhat predictable."

"But, what does that mean?"

"Well, it means I can read you easier than others. I'm not only good with traveling gossip but I'm great with pseudo-fortune telling. It's been a gift of mine for a while. Or, it might just be the wise intuition that comes with age. I can't tell which anymore."

Porrim handed her the dress and she reluctantly took it, uneasy about the accurate prediction. The softness of the breathable fabric she felt with her forefinger and thumb comforted her.

"Am I really that obvious?"

"Trust me, nobody is. I just guess and happen to be right more often than not. Don't take it too seriously."

"…Okay."

Meulin was conflicted. It wasn't so much her divination than it was the warmth and uncertainty she was sensing from her at the same time. Porrim only shrugged.

"Why don't you try it on?"

"This? I don't know. I don't think I'll have anywhere to go in it."

Porrim directed her to a nearby body mirror on one of the store's concrete beams. She lifted the dress in front of Meulin's coat again.

"Honey, sometimes you just need an outfit that doesn't require you to go anywhere fancy or elegant. Sometimes you need it to feel good about yourself. I've had my share of break-ups and make-ups in less than elegant manners simply because I didn't feel like what I was wearing reflected a confident attitude. My mother always used to tell me: Even if your life is an absolute mess, at least you look damn good."

Meulin grinned at the cheery advice.

"Doesn't that feel weird, though?"

"At first, yes, but once you're actually in the outfit it helps you clear your mind and gives you a better sense of what you want to do and the path you want to choose in the moment."

She nodded, feeling her drowsy mood lift and be replaced with an upbeat spirit.

"Okay! Where's the changing room?"

"They're by the stockings, where Aranea is. Tell you what, you get changed and I'll find some heels for you to wear later on, okay? What size do you wear? "

"Eight in a half. Narrow."

"How petite. Well, I'll be just a moment..."

Porrim took out a small handheld from a hidden pocket inside the slit of her dress. On the back was a sticker of the female symbol and a nude woman's back with white wings. She began to hastily type before flipping it shut and making her way towards the shoes. Meulin shrugged and made her way towards one of the blue fitting room doors, choosing the one closest to the back wall and undressing from her heavy attire. Halfway through, she saw a pair of hands dangle four inch, black suede heels which she excitedly acquired from them.

Moments later, did all three fashionistas make a group around the door, chatting amongst themselves. Meenah became more inquisitive.

"So, Maryam, what did you guys decide on?"

"It's a surprise."

"Ooh. Maybe I can finally sea that shape under those frumpy shirts and skirts."

"You just might."

When Meulin did step outside and come into view, the only sound in the store was that of the faint, random singing from the speakers on each of the adjoining wall corners.

The dress hugged her soft curves, accentuating her wide, birthing hips and modest breast size. It was short sleeved and cut off between her thighs so it showed enough skin to entice but still allowed room for some imagination. Her legs had more of a muscular definition thanks to the elevation of the shoes and Meenah was the first one to clasp her mouth shut and utter a proper comment.

"…Are y'all seain what I think we are seain?"

Aranea tilted her head, fascinated by the reveal of Meulin's appeal.

"I believe so."

"I mean, I knew the gill had body but I didn't know she had body."

Porrim excitedly made a twirling movement with her finger and Meulin slowly turned with arms up and by her side. She was still surprised by the ever present shock on each of their faces. Now it was Porrim's turn.

"Oh. She's bad."

"…Bad?"

Meulin cocked her head at Porrim's unfamiliar lingo. Aranea moved her hand down and up for attention.

"That's a good thing. It just means you can walk circles around any girl that might come in here."

Now she was even more confused.

"Okay, but did you sea the back though? I mean, I finally understand why Captain Booty Fiend has grabbed her in his net and kept her all to his shelf. It's like he found a treasure chest full of gold."

Porrim crinkled her nose.

"…Do you mean Kurloz?"

"Whatebber you wanna call him; Spooky J, French Scare-tana , 'Do it wit' no hands.' I usually stick with Collipark Creepy Sparxxx. That one reely gets him goin."

Porrim could only stare in disturbed bewilderment.

"Hey, you let that fool sneak you in clubs and tail me you don't get a different perspective, alright? So, don't gimme that look! Oh shit, speakin of perspective, I need to go handle some bizz right quick."

Meulin pouted while Aranea stared at Meenah, equally as bewildered but for different reasons.

"I wasn't aware you had previous engagements."

"Oh, it's only gonna be for a sec. I gotta sea Horuss aboat somefin and then I'mma nab some groceries."

Meulin was now reminded that Horuss didn't answer her texts all this week. She shuffled her feet in the comfortable heels and wondered what was going on.

"Well, why don't we come with you?"

"'Cause I have to handle somefin in-between that. Gurl, you ain't tryna be there, it's gonna be borin! Sorry gills, but I gotta make like a pixelated banana peel and swerve into Mario's go-kart."

"…What?"

"Exactly."

Meenah shoved the shoes in Porrim's hands and proceeded to jog toward the entrance of the store, leaving no room for questions.

"I'm sorry, Porrim. I guess I'll be getting the sneakers on her behalf."

"I appreciate it."

The cougar decided to direct all her attention to the potential buyer still in front of her.

"How do you feel, Meulin?"

"I feel good! It's nice and the shoes are really comfy."

"Do you know about the half-off spring sale going on? All winter items must go!"

Aranea smiled at the older woman, knowing she was just being nice as usual. Meulin thought about how much she had inside her cat purse in Horuss's coat pocket.

"What about the shoes?"

"Eh, I think I can make something work. They're too darling on you."

Meulin smiled at them both, deeming the curt shopping spree a tiny success after all.

"I think I'll get it! I already have red stockings at home, so why not?"

"That's the shopping spirit!"

Kurloz parallel parked his car at home around four forty-seven in the evening. The worst thing about driving in the evenings was trying to desperately avoid the five o' clock traffic. Unless everyone wanted to feel the wrath of his storming road rage, which he tried to mitigate around other passengers, he made an effort to get most of his work done and finish the rest at his leisure. That is, until he knew there was a meeting he couldn't avoid. Don't get him wrong, he's a pretty generous person on the road but when it comes to the stupidity of the working class leaving at the same damn time, there had to be some leeway to flip someone off that dared threaten his life on earth.

On top of it all, it looked like he was developing some sort of delayed sickness, if that made any sense. He knew he shouldn't have partied next to sick motherfuckers. His throat swelled up on Wednesday but didn't think much of it. Thursday caused for small coughs and small sniffles and today he just felt drowsy.

Well that's just what he gets.

Kurloz relaxed in his seat while the engine ran. His index and thumb massaged the bridge of his nose, all the while he sniffled and his other arm wrapped itself around his waist and his hand balled up red dress shirt in its sluggish grasp. In the past week, his conduct concerning his lively celebration had come back to him in small pieces. He tried to puzzle them back together in the mornings when his boss would talk about revenue and when he would most likely text her, but didn't. He tried to clarify it all in the midst of paper work with multiple computer programs open on his laptop. Some of his co-workers deemed the selection of his 'light' lunches out of the ordinary. At the end of the day, when he would produce his prohibited sales inside the safe brick walls of his home and count up his profit, he would lose track and become uninterested specifically because of his unrecalled memories. The process repeated itself, him finding new segments lurking around his sober mind.

He remembered his favored colors that engulfed his vision and how it catered to his every sense. The collective laughter from his friends was prominent in his ears, as was the bass and blaring voices of others. There was the feel of royalty on his skin, the harsh taste of drugs and the mix of perfumes and deodorants. His mind's eyes revived the sheen on the red door, the plushness of leather on a chair beside a king sized bed, the ill-lighted and indistinct ambiance teeming with red and black…

…And then what?

It was decided that he didn't want to fill that blank voluntarily and when his mind was ready to reveal that truth, he would face it. His hand almost reached for the keys when he looked over to his right and balled his hands into fists at a tap on his passenger mirror. He was ready to knock a ninja out who dared disturb him but did a double-take at Meenah waving energetically and pointing to the door handle while a stranger with goggles accompanied her side. Kurloz unlocked his doors and both moved swiftly, she on the passenger and he on the back seat. They closed it and fixed their gazes on him while he remained at a loss and waited for an explanation.

Meenah only grinned diabolically.

"I know whose pussy you popped last week."

Kurloz's eyes bulged. Oh fuck. OH FUCK.

"Aww! You don't even remember! That's so typical."

His brows furrowed deeply and his mouth turned. Of fucking course he had to go and get some on his day of birth. He didn't want to assume in that ridiculously blatant memory. For all he knew his friends could have left him there to pass out but oh no! He had to be intoxicated in every way and who knows what Meulin-

OH FUCK!

"Oh! Silly me and my manners! You must be wonderin who's mean muggin you from the back!"

He coughed himself into a small fit and glanced begrudgingly up at his rear view mirror. What stared back was the dark eyes of someone who clearly wanted to see all of his precious blood splattered across the sidewalk.

"This is Zahhak! Say hi, Zahhak!"

Horuss remained silent.

"This is Lejayjay's, how do I put it, best frond for life. So, yeah, if you ever thought you had a chance with her in anyfin betta than watchu already got then this is the man you would have needed to impress! Too bad you didn't do that great of a job, chum, 'cause what he heard from her wasn't all that impressive."

Kurloz glanced back at Meenah's grin, too forced and cheery to imply anything positive. He went back to 'Zahhak' who didn't move a muscle. He just kept his rather beefy arms folded and eyes attentive. Maybe if Kurloz made a bee line for home-no, his car wouldn't be safe. Fuck. He couldn't take the malevolent glare so he looked back at-Jesus fucking Christ her nose scrunched. Now Meenah looked downright demoniac with teeth almost sharp enough to imitate fangs.

"Yeah, you in deep-ass waters."

He cringed. Where the fuck was his tissue box!? Oh, that's right, in the back motherfucking seat. Gold stars all around, he tried.

"OOH! Lessea whatchu got on your Ipod!"

Meenah was referring to it being hooked up to his car with a black cable. She happily grabbed it from its center tray, turned it on and flipped through the selection while the atmosphere became humid with tension. Too bad he was too petrified to turn on the cool air or even dared to reach deliverance for his runny nose.

"Oh wow! I didn't know Spooky Scary Flame listened to ignorance!"

She turned up the volume, selected 'Round of Applause' and started to move her shoulders and back to the beat, sticking her tongue out and curling the tip on the front her teeth.

So this is what they were here for: embarrassment and interrogation.

"I know you wonderin how I even stumbled upon this fabulous gossip! Whale, it just so happens that miss raven-haired donk-a-donk was gonna spill how much you allegedly 'tore dat pussy up' even in the fucked up condition you were in! Which, I gotta say, is pretty remarkable. But I made a deal with her that I would make her kitty sing if I had my way and boom, I saved yo ass once again! I mean, you know how small this town is. It could have trickled all the way down to the very person you didn't want knowin but turns out you forgot! Irony is a pretty beach, ain't she?"

Kurloz scowled with eyes forward, hands seized on his steering wheel with knuckles turning a lighter shade than his skin. He pierced daggers at the fuchsia ford focus he now realized was parked in front of him. The sun was too bright for this shit, the people passing him by was too happy for this shit and he was simply too old for this shit. If this was the one and only time he would regret his pimp tendencies, then so be it. But how this asshole thought rubbing it in his face was a good idea as well as 'saving' him with her dumb, open relationship with was beyond him.

He bets Aranea doesn't even know she did that behind her back.

"And I'm knot opposed to birthday pussy! I know how amazin that shit is so I bereef that's your cod given right as a single male. But you ain't exactly single and I don't even think you asked her if she was okay with that, did you?"

Kurloz shut his eyes and tried to delay his wheezes, condemning a lecture by the water bitch of all people. And of course she had to do her own rendition of the goddamn lyrics:

"Kurloz, can you be my baby daddy? Pimpin like he's dolemite, ho's jump in his caddy! Smoke like he got cataracts, in da strip club throwin up dem stacks, he got racks on top of racks! Bust that pussy, make dat ass clap clap clap-!"

His head lowered, body rocked to and fro like an elderly person in their rocking chair. He glared intense lasers at the pedals with his teeth grinding in his mouth. Sure, he could have remembered. He could have even mulled it over, thought it wrong and forgave himself, never to mention it. He wouldn't have even told her and it wouldn't have mattered because they weren't in a relationship. That would be his excuse. He would live with himself. He would sleep at night. He wouldn't regret it…

…But no. They would make him regret it. He had to confess now, or someone else would.

"Aww, okay. I won't fuck with you no more."

Kurloz lifted his head back onto the rest and exhaled, sniffing sickness back into his body.

"…But that don't mean you knot gonna drive to the liquor store, pick me up some Moscato and I mean the top shelf shit, knot the knock off, Ninja, even though that's kinda good too. Anemoneway, then you gonna go to the corner mart and get me some Dutch Masters in the green pack which I mean I could get myshelf but, I mean, come on, It's way more fun if you do it! You know why? 'Cause you gonna give me a free dub, you gonna roll that shit up and you bouta watch me blow in yo face!"

Kurloz's head slowly turned towards the spawn of ocean Satan, eyes baleful and lip stiff.

"Oh, you mad now? Honey, you ain't mad yet. If you don't get your fishes in a row me and Zahhak are goin to go ham on you so hard, print out 'Pop That' lyrics and make Leijon read every single little gangsta word to make shore you never even have a sliver of a fuckin chance with her ever again, you understand me?"

Mad? Oh no. He was livid. He was filled with so much animosity, obsessed with the thought of pure rage and wanted to expel it on nobody but himself.

Kurloz turned the ignition again, one handing the wheel and proceeded to figure out the closest location to do both requests in one swoop and hopefully one main street. His head tilted upward, glowering in vehemence. It didn't last long and soon his free hand covered his mouth from raspy coughs.

"Ooh, I didn't think I was dealin with germs. Maybe you won't roll after all. Oh whale!"

Meenah glanced back at Horuss with a smug grin.

"We makin progress!"

Horuss had to admit that he was feeling guilty for confiding in Meenah about his current predicament. After Meulin revealed to him about the happenings of that night, he couldn't help but feel indignant towards the 'ghost prince' but after he patched up the scar on her leg he had to ask someone to speak for him on his behalf. Turns out he didn't realize how deep the 'interrogation' could possibly get.

Meenah just proceeded to mock dance and spew lyrics in a sing-song voice.

"Bounce dat ass, shake dat ass like da twerk team!"

Kurloz flipped her off while she laughed maniacally.

"Bus' it, bus' it li-like da twerk team!"

All livid little Kurloz Makara knows right the fuck now is that this bitch will never be invited to check out his fifteens in his trunk ever again and he means never motherfuckin' ever again!

The water was steaming hot but it wasn't enough for him to avoid standing under the shower head.

Kurloz, after the spontaneous journey for wine and wraps, made sure both heartless detectives actually drove away from his street and became miserable. Meulin texted him around seven to ask if he was still available on Saturday and he consented, knowing there was little choice in the matter. His evening flooded with memories of that final piece of his mental puzzle. Ultimately, on top of his melancholy and sickly disposition, he wasn't in good condition to fully restore those events, so he smoked to get rid of his cares and downed a cup of distasteful Nyquil which knocked him out until the crack of dawn, when he would have to face her around eleven a.m.

It was nine thirty a.m.

His physique was rigid with neck drooped, head low and sharp, wet curls framing his bare face. His cold had lessened but he still wanted the steam from the shower to drain his sinuses. The off-white walls and lavender shower curtain had already gotten under his skin the moment he stepped in, so he washed every inch of his body, eased his tense muscles and kept his eyes closed. It was just too bright. All of it was too bright.

The purifying droplets drummed his skull and softened his skin but every time he wanted to turn the faucet the clear actions of his night were where his thoughts treaded. Something unseen, yet repulsive exuded from his pores and he was heavily compelled to stay longer than necessary. He just didn't feel cleansed enough. His wheat tan blended with the tenuousness of his blood. All he could do was whelm himself in the solitude of his home before he encountered his retribution.

'I forgive you.'

It wasn't enough to perplex him with mercy…

'What I want to say can't wait for too long.'

…She had to let her parting words sound ambiguous, whether she realized it or not. He boldly concluded that the impending confrontation could work in his favor, as well as hers if what he thought she wanted became true.

He somehow doubted otherwise.

Kurloz let his back hunch while the liquid beads rolled down his neck and soothed his spine. Now that his head was relieved of the drumming, irregular rhythm, he could properly unite his scattered memories without distractions.

He remembered his favored colors that engulfed his vision and how it catered to his every sense. The collective laughter from his friends was prominent in his ears, as was the bass and blaring voices of others. There was the feel of royalty on his skin, the harsh taste of drugs and the mix of perfumes and deodorants. His mind's eyes revived the sheen on the red door, the plushness of leather on a chair beside a king sized bed, the ill-lighted and indistinct ambiance teeming with red and black…

…That vixen had opened that red door. She forced his inebriated frame down on the chair and she was the one to darken the view on the one-way mirror. While it did stretch to the end of the open corridor outside, so did their luxurious accommodation. He didn't bother to explore what it had to offer, as he was engrossed by her at his own volition. The black, eight-inch heels were left on the plum floor, she enjoying the feel under her slender feet and movements resembling that of a rotating wind spinner. Inky strands of long hair followed her and his gaze lingered where they lied on her bodily curves like water to glass sculpture.

He fucked her. It was no longer deniable.

There was the removal of his venerated headdress, her beckoning, slender finger and in blur he had pushed himself off the chair and leaned his weight atop her on the wine, satin sheets. He imagined her tresses that were scattered around like thin, neat trickles of black fluid. He summoned to mind the feel of her shoulder with the back of his hand, the softness of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, the trail of fingertips down her waist, hips and round hind end. He delved deeper within his senses, rubbing the tip of his tongue on the roof of his mouth at the reminder of the taste on his neck, tainted with carbonated beverage and sweat. He breathed in the smell of his favorite cigar smoke, partook in the squeak of her voice and drowned in her pheromones. Dark glitters accented her narrow eyes and contrasted with the powder on her face. Eager, ruby lips thinned and tugged upward to display her clown love.

She was beautiful in her own way and he let out all of his sexual frustrations. They were built up from her celibacy, which was beyond his control.

He made sure to watch her beg, flipped her plenty way and drew out groans of ecstasy, if not to reaffirm his thin vanity. She was full and warm and willing and exactly what he needed. The night would have been perfect and he would have come home satisfied, uncomplicated by no previous ties, until he became aware that he had not kissed her on the lips.

Not even once.

The feel of her collarbone, neck and even jawline was a prominent sensation on his lips but when they neared to her own an incredible malaise had twinged in his stomach, manifesting the proclaim of his intimate endearment reserved for another.

So, what did that mean for him? It was unusual, since there wasn't one person, female or male, who wasn't worthy of his affection. It craved to give them anything they wanted, not one to abstain from empty pleasures. It was infinitely better than battling with his caliginous and potent arch-rivalry…

…that being his emotions.

Kurloz's forehead bumped onto the tile in exhaustion, nude frame barely touching water anymore. His hand moved in front of him to turn the faucet to 'off' which left the humidity to keep him warm. After a few moments of deep breathing, he reached and pushed back the curtain. Small beads dripped off his thin curls and he lifted himself to comb his fingers through the top. The other hand reached for a mauve towel on the marble counter to dry all over, wrap it around his waist, step out of the shower and onto a matching bath mat. It was in front of the sink and more importantly, the medicine cabinet mirror.

It was few and far between when he could tolerate staring at his bare-skinned face for great duration of time. His hands positioned themselves on his lower back as he kept his stern eyes downward at the grey shades of churned, solidified marble.

Kurloz adored Meulin. She awakened innocence in him he thought was lost with her syrupy disposition. It was good for his heart, he knew that for certain. But now his adoration was evolving into a dangerous sentiment. He tried to envision life with his heart succumbed to his rival at this stage in his life and concluded that it wasn't the path he wanted to trek.

His eyes glanced up to the dissonant man in his mirror, brimming with emotion.

He was capable of many feelings, even a deep, amorous attachment but it could not be formed with her and not now. He made the mistake of letting her into his life when she wanted and the further this would go, the more he would dread picking and re-opening mental wounds. There would be too many things to explain and not enough intimacy to expose it. He wasn't even sure he was ready for all that noise.

So that's why he would look forward Meulin's talk.

She would let their 'ship' sink gently, and he would agree, that being the end of them. As long as he had that audial confirmation, those anxieties would eventually subside and disappear. He would go on with life, helping his brother the best he can and working his nine to five with the occasional partner to indulge him. Everything would go back to normal. The situation never looked more fitting.

Kurloz couldn't look at his barren shell of a face any longer. One hand moved from his back and rubbed his jaw in thought while he looked at the analog clock on the wall.

Ten-sixteen a.m.

He would never be able to maintain their friendship if she dismissed the issue entirely and gave him a chance to develop those small, insignificant 'emotions' any further. It would eventually reach all across his body, then his muscles and even his very veins. It would make him think of her every day and every hour with no end in sight. The fragility of his heart would not be able to cope with the idea of her not reciprocating. It would eventually tear into the fabric of their friendship and she would be driven away.

It sounded childish but if he was to maintain his responsibilities as an adult, he had to take firm hold of what he has with his rival or else he would feel like he failed at a chance at anything involving deep, faithful love.

So he knew what would come to pass.

The hand on his jaw reached out and opened the medicine cabinet to retrieve his face paint in a circular compact only to see that it was gone. He burst into coughs and cringed.

"Shit."

He paused. His upper body teetered back and forward, fingers drummed on the mirror door without thought. His eyes scanned all across the marble, sink and wall while his throat clenched with pressure. He had a spare in his jacket and he would retrieve it after a cigarette. He rubbed his nose and abruptly left the bathroom, not bothering to close the medicine cabinet.

The crown remained in the bottom drawer of his dark brown dresser…

…And so did Meulin's gift.

The last time Meulin was dolled up in front of the Makara home, things did not go as expected.

Porrim's suggestion had stuck like crazy glue. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and pulled the end of her cream sweater dress. The diamond heart necklace she got for Christmas was straightened around her neck. Her legs were covered in berry stockings she had previously worn along with the black suede shoes on her feet. Inspired by the flair of the cougar's seductive mane, she moved most of her voluminous hair across her shoulders. She decided to leave the cat ears and tail at home to emphasize her sincerity. Her bare face and arms felt cool from the January wind but it didn't bother her much. The walk up the hills to his home had warmed her up, she not realizing what a feat it would be. But it was good practice, even if she did wobble once or twice. She smiled, causing her cream gloss to shimmer.

She felt better already.

A hand lifted, causing her cat purse to sway on its golden chain around her wrist and knocked three times on the door. In reality, it was still too nippy to wear such an outfit but since she wasn't that far from him she figured it would be warmer inside and he might be gracious enough to drop her off later on.

Hopefully.

The door opened and revealed the man of the hour, wrapped in the purple throw around his shoulders with a loose, pure blue tee shirt, grey sweat pants and black socks. His eyes that barely opened looked her down and up and his appearance made him look strained with a small bit of his paint missing from under his nose which scrunched here and there. She could only assume he was exerting himself too hard at work.

"Are you okay? Should I come back another time?"

He put on a disturbed expression similar to the one she witnessed when last visited.

"No, I'm just…I didn't expect…"

He put his hand out and emphasized her attire. Meulin hunched her shoulders and curled her lips.

"Thanks."

Kurloz slowly moved himself out of the way and she stepped inside, feeling a burst of heat. Walking on tile floors was much easier than sidewalk littered with gravel. There was the nagging sense that his attention was still on her, even when she made her way to the love seat. She slipped off her heels, placed them beside the chair, sat and dug her feet into the softness of the burgundy rug. Kurloz closed and locked the door, trudged over to the center of the brown couch and sat with back humped and elbows on his thighs. A tissue box was right beside him.

He was sick. Meulin felt her confidence dampen but it didn't take away from her determination. One of his hands nabbed a small tissue and he began to dab his nose with it.

"…"

He looked at her, expression passive.

"Don't worry, I'm listening."

"Oh."

Meulin couldn't really hold his stern gaze and instead focused on his rather messily drawn black lip lines.

"I'd like to talk about what happened that night, on your birthday."

"Okay."

She nodded, swallowed a sudden nervous lump in her throat and continued.

"So, I know you were wondering befur where I was and if I was okay. Gamzee helped me with the bus ride and I got in by showing the jacket which-Oh! I furgot to bring it back…"

"Don't worry about it."

She traced the inside of her lip with her tongue.

"I'll try to bring it next time…I come."

"Alright."

Would there be a next time after that? She inhaled, sighed quietly and continued.

"Well, I got inside and I went up that metal stairwell beside the entrance. And um…I saw you down there."

Kurloz's body remained motionless. His expression was calm but in his eyes there were emotions so muddled that when she glanced up she couldn't pinpoint anything specific.

"That's where you were."

"Yes."

He slowly nodded, processing the information.

"What did you see?"

That was the hardest part. There wasn't a desire to recall those memories.

"I saw you in your throne chair. I saw all the people, or guests around you, and I saw the girl you were with…"

He stared, almost looking like he anticipated more but she didn't continue. There was a bodily shock that took over, leaving her deathly still. He covered his mouth, shoulders hunching rapidly. He must have some sort of cough as well. After the small episode he moved his arm away.

"What else?"

"I…left."

He nodded, dabbed his nose some more, looked to his right and threw away the wad in a small, black trash can beside the arm of the couch. His hands came together with elbows still on his thighs. He looked deep in thought about something and she played with the end of her dress, wishing she had a less noticeable tic.

Suddenly, he looked over to her and a sense of indifference was put between then.

"I slept with her."

Oh.

"Did you know that?"

She started to breathe slower than usual, mouth slightly parted and brain trying to comprehend the unheralded statement. After a few moments she moved her head from side to side, nonplussed.

Kurloz only nodded, breathing in and exhaling a long sigh.

"Well, I guess you do now."

So this would be her motivation. Her choice, seemingly final in her mind had to be carried out with no regret. The problem was how passive he seemed during the entire conversation. Could she live with that type of attitude during something this serious? And more importantly, how did she really feel about this new information? In all honesty, she hated being mature. It was hurting her in ways she didn't expect but the decision was already made. What he did behind closed doors wasn't to be of her concern. She committed to that.

"That was your night, so, I don't think I have much of a say in it."

His brows furrowed at the response. Did it seem unexpected? Possibly coming from her, yes, but she was learning to take herself seriously.

"Really?"

She nodded. It hurt, yes, the idea of another with him but they weren't together at the time and besides…

…this chapter of their 'ship' had to come to a close.

"Kurloz, I have no right to be mad or angry. You weren't with me and I know what we are; we're friends with benefits. I tell people all the time that we're on this 'ship' together but that's not the reality. And I was okay with this. I went into the club knowing that, but when I saw efurryone and you and her together…"

She felt a pang in her chest which expanded into the tendrils of her nothingness. It beckoned her to cave in and abandon her true feelings, opting to stay friends but she wouldn't. This had to be accomplished on her terms even if it could harm everything they've built on.

"…Something changed inside of me. I had this sort of 'experience' with myself and it made me become aware of what I would like and what I want in our affair. And what we have now, it isn't it."

She saw him nod and bite his lower lip, not even bothering to look at her.

This was it.

"Kurloz-"

"No."

He suddenly stood up, chest heaving and eyes filled with dispiriting emotion.

"No, don't even motherfuckin' say it."

Her mouth turned agape and her eyes widened in distress.

"What? Why?"

"What do you mean-"

He jerked his head towards the window, momentarily at a loss for words but looked straight back to her.

"Do you know how long I've thought about this day? I knew it would come eventually. I knew you would just be all like the others. I actually thought you were different and we could-You know what? Forget it."

Her heart clenched in incredulousness.

"What?"

"How did everyone not tell you about this shit? I've been through this conversation over and over again and I usually just breeze right through it but now, for some reason, I feel like I can't even handle hearing those words from you, Meulin. Because I thought you-…I thought we could just remain the same without all these feelings and judgments but that's always the one fuckin' thing that complicates everything. And now we're here and I just…I don't want to hear it from you."

He tramped over the doorway, unlocked it and pulled it open.

Meulin just sat, heart wrenched, throat dry and eyes unwilling to accept what she was witnessing. Kurloz only looked far off into a corner, unfazed and waited.

Sooner or later she slowly raised herself up from her seat, dug her feet into each heel and strolled over to where he stood…

…She grabbed the door and slammed it shut. Hard.

Kurloz could only look in a delayed reaction. His head turned towards the entrance and back to the now fuming teen in front of him. Her chest heaved and her eyes glared at him. There was absolutely no way she would back down now. She didn't just walk all the way up those long hills in these damn heels in the cold for nothing!

He licked his lips, crossed his arms and focused his attention to the tile floor.

"You actually want to say it. I didn't think you were that cruel."

"Excuse me?"

He glanced back up to her. She bared her teeth and made her hands into little fists.

"This is not just about you. I've been thinking about this all week too! I made a very hard decision and in the end I think it was the right one for me. Even if I am getting angry with you right now I still feel the same way I did when I walked in this house. You're not putting me out! Even if you don't feel the same way I do, I'm going to tell you how I feel!"

"I do feel the same motherfuckin' way!"

Her face softened, hands slightly relaxed.

"You do?"

"Yes! I want this just as much as you do. Which is why I really don't want to fuckin' hear it."

He walked over to the counter of the kitchen, face away from Meulin while she gaped at him again.

"What? That's terrible! Why would you tell me that when I actually have a chance!?"

He whipped back at her, face scrunched in disgust.

"What the fuck!"

They stood, both staring with little idea of what the other actually wanted. Kurloz extended his arms wide.

"Fine! You win, alright? Go ahead!"

He folded his arms back again.

"I don't give a fuck any more. Just get it over with, Meulin. Whatever sick shit you're trying to accomplish here, go for it. I'm listening."

Every sliver of confidence that remained slipped away from her fingertips. Her heart collapsed and released a plethora of sadness, guilt, confusion and a sudden urge to crawl under a rock, never to emerge. Her eyes dawdled on the tile floor, too overwhelmed to react and too numb to rouse any extreme actions within. Meenah warned her, just like she did so many times before. He was a man with little emotion to give but she thought she had a chance. He seemed so genuine and willing that it didn't take much to conclude that she no longer wanted to be the girl he could have his way with in the night and only be friends with in the day. She didn't want that anymore. She was tired of it.

Meulin pressed her lips together, eyes scrunched in a last attempt for tears to not rise below her lids.

All she wanted was a relationship. She was stubborn, reckless and even determined for him to give her a chance but it was too late. He already decided he didn't want to be with her or so she hopelessly thought. In reality, he didn't want her to say the exact opposite because his emotions were too far-gone and it would hurt knowing she could easily abandon him like everyone else.

So they stood in the midst of their confusion. Meulin was the first to truly realize the position they were in. She expected things to go wrong, she expected him to turn away but to actually have him reciprocate and refuse at the same time? That ached more than she possibly imagined. Her eyes shut and one hand rubbed her upper arm in an attempt to stay mentally leveled.

It was hard, considering Kurloz looked like he didn't give one care. He stood there, glaring at the tiles with all his might and tapping one pair of his toes.

Meulin's breathing became irregular. Her eyes glanced all around the room, the uncaring attitude burrowing under her skin. Why was this so easy for him? Why was she the one who had to suffer? Was all those months getting to know one another and learning from each other and being happy together for absolutely nothing? What was the point, then? To what end?

She slowly put one foot out a heel and onto the cold, tile floor, then the other. She bent down, grabbed it with her hand…

…and chucked it right at him.

"FUCK!"

Kurloz twitched and flailed his arms at the impalement to his leg, only wearing soft cotton sweat pants. The heel had startled him but there was no means any damage. He looked at the shoe now on the floor in disbelief and back to Meulin.

"…You crazy-ass kitty-bitch!"

"Why do I have to be your whore?"

Kurloz only glared at her confusingly.

"What?"

Her eyes trailed all across the cool tile again, brows wrinkled in sadness.

"Why can't we be more than this?"

As soon as she said it, the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes had suddenly vanished. Her whole being was drenched in nothingness and her darkness coiled around her limbs. It commanded her to scream, hiss, bite and scratch. It wanted her to break down and cry, fight for him with all of her might and fall victim to her anguish.

But she wouldn't, or rather, she couldn't. It wasn't in her being to do any of those things. The new maturity she had developed swallowed her darkness whole and replaced it with an endless, dull pang. The feeling was indescribable. She didn't want to fight for someone who only thought of her as some compliant play thing.

She was worth more than that.

Kurloz had gazed all over her body for the amount of time she had been silent. Meulin felt a small headache coming on and thought it best that they end it there. She knew this would be an outcome. It was what to be expected. The sweltering, uncontrollable ache she felt in her heart was not.

She licked her lips and tried to form departing words, but it came out heartbreakingly feeble.

"I'm sorry."

She looked up at him. His expression softened and his arms were beside himself.

"I was being selfish. I know you don't want a relationship with me. I just thought that…"

She looked down again, putting her hands up in defeat.

"Never mind. You don't even want to hear it."

Meulin had said it so quietly, even she wasn't sure it came out of her mouth. She bent down to take her swede shoe in one hand, thought better of it and straightened up only to see that the other shoe was under the kitchen table.

"I'm sorry I threw it at you. I don't know what came over me."

She took a few steps forward but halted, the dull ache turning into a paralyzing misery.

"Um…I'll leave. I just want my shoe back."

She saw Kurloz caress his fingertips with his thumbs. His eyes never left her face, chest now rising more noticeably. He grabbed the throw from around him and tossed it over a chair in front of the table. She was so caught up in all the emotion that she didn't realize he was still coughing and sniffling. It was all beyond her. Just another reason why she didn't belong with him.

He didn't bend down or grab her shoe or nothing of the sort. Meulin looked up to his face only to be confronted with a sharp gaze that pierced her very core. He had the power to make her feel so much and that's why she had to get away, or else her emptiness would surround her in its chasm.

She patiently waited but he didn't budge, mouth starting to move.

"Do you?"

She furrowed her brow.

"What?"

"Do you really want to be more than this?"

She parted her lips and tried to form a cohesive answer, still in the beginning stages of a headache.

"If you don't want to, then I won't ask for it. I just don't think I can stand being just friends for much longer. I'm sorry. My heart is weak and I like you a lot. But again, I knew you weren't into relationships so it's my fault. I have no one to blame but myself."

She looked down with eyes reflective of a young woman who had spoken beyond her years but also a harsh longing that could never be fulfilled.

Kurloz put a foot in front of the other, striding until he stood right in front of her and blocked her line of sight. She inhaled and turned away, not wanting to be close to the man she could never be with.

She felt his hands on her chin and he lifted her face. Her expression turned to that of absolute torment. Even now that urge to lurch on him was strong, but it would be needy and unbecoming. So, she settled with staring his wonderful lips, those lips she would so desperately miss.

If she dwelled on these simple thoughts, she may never go back to being happy-go-lucky for a long time.

"Meulin."

Her heart clenched at the shape of her name on his lips, eyes fluttering at the sudden mist under her eyes.

"Yes?"

Kurloz smiled, eyes filled with a deep understanding.

"I thought you wanted something else."

"…Huh?"

"I mean, I thought we got together 'cause you were gonna tell me that you didn't want to be with me anymore."

She wrinkled her brow at the statement.

"Really?"

Kurloz shrugged, at a loss for words. The ache in her chest worsened.

"But, you told me you felt the same way about me. So…but that means you thought…you wanted me to break this off?"

"No,-…It's complicated."

"I don't care."

He sighed.

"I wanted, at first, for you to break off our friendship because…of what you said."

"…What I said?"

"Because I'm weak, like you."

She felt the emptiness erode like ocean waves to rocks.

"I thought if we stopped being friends then I wouldn't feel what I feel for you now. And I couldn't deal with you actually saying you didn't want to be with me. So, I didn't want to hear it. And I guess in the end, I still don't."

He chuckled humorlessly, eyes looking downward.

"It's too late for me. I like you a lot too, Kit."

"You do?"

He nodded and she finally noticed the intense, bittersweet emotion in his eyes. She grabbed the sides of his shirt, overpowered by a sense of abandonment.

"But you don't want to be with only me."

"How do you know that?"

Meulin only shrugged, glancing all over the Phthalo blue color like it held all the answers. She felt him squeeze her shoulders and slide them down to caress with his thumbs. Her chest expanded and became delirious from his touch before she looked up again. He spoke.

"Yeah."

She craned her head in confusion.

"I'm done. I'm out the game. You won't see me with anyone else."

The delirium intoxicated her whole being. Her eyes lidded and her lips parted, unable to think straight. She was relieved, ecstatic, stupefied and dazed all in one. The only word that came out of her mouth was:

"Okay."

Kurloz weakly grinned and released her arms. She did the same to his shirt but he took her right wrist in his hand and pulled her over to the brown, ripped up couch. He sat down with both legs on the cushions and tugged for her to get the hint. Meulin was placed on his lap and he didn't make any sudden movements, only keeping her right hand in his own.

She could now look at his features without feeling that immense pressure in her chest. She examined the dark lines around his hardened eyes, the curved pattern of grey under and across his cheeks and the white powder that made it all stand out. Her sight went back to the vertical slits that made his lips look like they were sewn together. She missed all of this. She missed him.

Her left hand carefully placed itself on his cheek and he scrunched his nose again, indicating a sniffle.

"I'm sorry I threw my shoe at you."

"I'm sorry I called you a crazy-ass kitty-bitch."

Meulin chortled, face scrunched and eyes closed in absolute amusement. Her stomach clenched, causing her to bounce and chuckle soundlessly. She pried her eyes open to look at his endearing smile.

"Then we're even!"

The smile turned into a grin and she didn't hesitate to tangle her left hand in his massive curls. He lowered his eyes and his free hand rubbed her waist down and up. She pulled him closer and he nudged the bridge of his nose between the curve of her neck and shoulder, as well as bending his legs upward. She could feel the heat from his body and the mass of hair tickling her face. Her eyes were fixed on the calm shade on his cotton shirt and she felt his torso contract now and then from his sickness. After a while, her arms encircled his shoulders and his glided around her back, squeezing their bodies together.

"I missed you, Kurzorz."

Kurloz pulled back and pressed his lips against the corner of her own. Her face lit up before he moved away, slid down and rested his head on the arm of the couch. Then he proceeded to hold back his massive coughing fit with one hand.

"Aww."

She caressed the side of his face with her freed fingertips.

"When did you get sick?"

"Probably from the party. That's what happens when you're around too many sick motherfuckers at the same time."

He closed his eyes and she could only smile at him.

"Don't worry. I have vitamin C at home."

He grinned and let out a breath.

"I need a break from my life…by the way, was that outfit for me?"

"It was actually fur me. But it can be fur you."

He chuckled.

"Just don't forget the cat stuff next time."

"You like it that much?"

He nodded and put both hands beside her waist.

"Then I won't."

After it was all said and done, they had lied there like that for a good period of time. She kept caressing his curls while he coughed and sniffed his sickness back in. It was amazing, she thought to herself, that she was still in his home and he actually agreed to be with her. She was finally in a relationship with him. It was just too good to be true.

Meulin pressed her lips against one of his eyebrows.

"I'll help you feel better."

Meulin eventually tried to give Kurloz his jacket back. He drove her home later in the evening and she ran inside to retrieve it but he only kissed her in return and said to keep it for the time being.

So it stayed in her closet, a new addition to the many surprises that were given to her.

Kurloz's cold lasted until the third week of January and he was afraid he wouldn't recover in time for Gamzee's 'Nineteenth Subjugglator Bash'. It was astonishing that their birthdays were even on the same month but 'Meulin the friendly feline nurse' had cured him of his cough and sinuses before the big event. She attended the small get-together earlier in the day at the Makara home, side-stepping shady company from his correction facility and gave Gamzee a small book filled with different variations of mint pies. The younger brother was thrilled and made sure to hug her plenty times in gratitude. When it was time to go to the club, however, she politely declined and excused herself. Kurloz drove her home, understanding the conflict and never spoke of it since.

February arrived in the blink of an eye.

Their newfound 'Relation-ship' sailed a simple drift, once again patching up the remains of their friendship. She wondered sometimes if that would become habitual but he tried his best to make up for it when she came over the first week. They sat in the living room and doodled. He did nothing but complain about work and the preparations for Valentine's Day and she did nothing but pout about a year-long science project she hasn't even gotten started on. They did more things with their time eventually; she found a schedule for upcoming movies and he made homemade spaghetti for dinner.

After that, they lied on his bed, scantily dressed with smoke floating from his painted lips while she held his free arm and watched the strings of smoke go each way, it not concerned with narrow paths and straight lines. And they said little, basking in each other's presence.

Before they went to bed he had inquired about the fading scar on her lower leg and she dismissed it as a common household accident.

Valentine's Day came by the second week, on a Wednesday and he texted her to come over. She was excited to know why and he said he had a surprise, nothing big, but enough that he thought she would enjoy it. Meulin already planned to come over anyway to give him a huge pack of his favorite red, waxy fish and a drawing of them on a sailboat. What she expected was a kiss and possibly a night out, not a homemade doll. It was the size of a teddy bear, dyed green with big fluffy cat ears, a tiny tail and visible stitching. Apparently, he had started late last month because he was busy with work and other things. She took it in one of her hands, observing the small black buttons for eyes, the tiny black-stitched smile and a tag with her name on it and cried, holding her lackluster gift in a plastic bag. With lots of comfort, cuddles on the couch and sharing of the candy she got the bright idea to surprise him with an impromptu gift the following weekend.

The ban of her celibacy was lifted.

She was still walking on clouds the third week, sleeping with her new doll every night. But, for some reason, her heart remained on solid ground. Something was still missing and she couldn't put a finger on it for the life of her. While she didn't expect warm fuzzies, dates, roses and proclamations of love from him anytime soon, she was starting to have second thoughts about the course of their 'ship'. It seemed too 'friendly' and monogamy was supposed to lead them from what they had to something more traditional. It didn't quite feel like it was heading there anytime soon. At the same time, this was okay because maybe his past still had something to do with it. She didn't want to press him into something he didn't feel naturally, she wanted to be considerate.

Meulin got all her close friends together on a Thursday at her house and tempted them with tiny, homemade tuna sliders. She finally confessed their changed status and had to pour everyone a glass of water so they wouldn't choke to sudden death. After they got over the initial shock and asked all their prying, intimate and even embarrassing questions, she got right down to it: should she demand more from him or keep their pace?

Horuss still had his concerns but that was normal because he was naturally protective of her. Meenah, surprisingly, said to have fun and not always jump from such serious heights. Sure, his age was ideal for long-term but that didn't mean she had to worry about it now, which was quite sound advice. Aranea's two cents turned into priceless wisdom and it stuck with Meulin like cream to whiskers:

'Meulin, there will come a time when he might do something so incredibly open that you can't help but fall in love then and there. It's up to you if you're willing to wait and let it happen.'

She did want to wait, but for how long?

Six months seemed a bit short for her to think about things like love anyways. She was only concerned about the romantic aspect. No need to make any sudden moves. School was still a top priority after all and she was still trying to earn those top grades so she could be accepted in nursing school. Those poor, little cats and canaries were her calling! She decided to take the latter advice and let their ship wander in the way it wanted, how it wanted, with no added pressure. Yes, she thought, they should still have fun and enjoy what they have together. They were still friends after all...

...The following weekend communicated otherwise.

It started with a small kiss. They were both wrapped up in sheets, sheltered in his living room because of the pouring rain. They took a small nap on the couch and he woke before her, thus having more time on his hands to flip through various channels. She poked her head out of the purple throw, said something about it being too cold and he offering to warm her up.

The press of his lips made her cheeks tingle and her chest expand with a strange, yet comforting pressure.

The following Saturday, he tried to show her how to smoke properly. She accidentally swallowed and burped up a small bubble to which he laughed in response and she couldn't stop being embarrassed about. Her palms sweat, her words stumbled and she avoided otherwise normal gazes from him.

Sunday became more relaxed but she couldn't help but be nervous around him. When she would leave to use the bathroom and come back to his room, her heart would pound faster than normal and her pallid cheeks would flush with a tint of rose. Kurloz would just lie there with that same languid, amused smile on his face.

The following week caused for some deep soul searching at school but no big conclusions came out of it. She would anticipate his small texts more and more, turning her phone in her hands and sometimes bringing him up with her friends for no reason. It was nice for a time.

But on a Friday, the first of March, when she came out of an otherwise relaxing evening bath an unexpected thought process manifested. She dried herself off, rubbing tiny lavender bath salts off of her skin. She noted the roundness of her stomach and looked up in her bathroom mirror, discarding her towel on the floor. She wasn't a thin model or didn't exactly have the prettiest skin due to her previous acclimation in a state that did nothing but rain until late summer with blue skies scattered into seldom occasions. Her hair had character, was soft and when it dried the ends curled into swoops but that didn't mean it wasn't stringy and poufy from time to time. These were minor details she didn't mind living with. What she did mind was the Halloween candy, the rib-sticking meals during the holidays, the chocolate ball and the waxy fish. She ate well and was tiny height-wise but if she wasn't careful, her curves became more noticeable.

Meulin covered her bosom with her arms, turned to the side, sucked in her stomach for a few seconds and released it. The small bump of fat was still there. It made her regress back to that memory.

The attractive vixen.

She was in possession of smooth, milky skin, the curves in all the right places, the booming femininity and the long hair that swayed in every direction. She was ideal and the one Kurloz had to sleep with. What did Meulin have in comparison; personality, or perhaps her upbeat attitude about life? There were only so many times people could say that before it got redundant and silly and just plain untrue.

Meulin was suffering from poor body image, self-esteem issues and would dare not tell a soul. This was her lone battle to fight, even if it was mentally draining. She remembered drinking tea and eating crackers on Monday evening, buying more fruits, vegetables and fish at the local grocery store on Tuesday, then munching on snack foods for the rest of the week, giving into her small cravings. There was that nagging feeling in the back of her mind, the annoying darkness within telling her she wasn't good enough for Kurloz and that he could do better if he tried. And at a time, he did.

It cracked at Meulin's confidence. She thought about his compassion and courteous nature and never wanted to let him go and then thought about what she had to offer in return and was tempted to set him loose. What did he still see in her? It was really her who wanted to pursue this relationship in the first place and it was he who was actually willing to let her go. And why shouldn't he? He was cool, he partied and was more experienced in the ways of adulthood. She was just a cat-loving role-player with an avid desire to ship non-existing characters. It ate at her very innards that night, she wearing his jacket and holding his homemade cat doll, crying herself to sleep.

It only got worse the next morning.

Meulin was going to his home in a few hours, around dusk. It was the first weekend of March and it was windy. She was about to take a chance and wear warmer clothing but she decided a loose, navy cat sweater, jeans and black sneakers would do instead.

"This guy actually thinks I'm going to drive in this fucked-up weather just so I can get five. I swear, the cold just makes ninjas stupid sometimes."

Meulin giggled beside him. They were both on his bed; he sat upright by the nightstand with a grey pillow behind his back. She was positioned so that her legs rested over his lap and his arm was wrapped around her shoulder while he texted on his business phone. It was around seven in the evening, the only sources of unnatural light coming from his windows from stray street lights and a lamp from his work desk that was moved on his nightstand. The whole day was spent cuddling, watching marathons of 'Rambo' on his laptop and bringing up simple topics of discussion. She was silently comforted that he wore similar dark attire; a black, long-sleeved turtle neck sweater and navy jeans. As usual, her feline appendages and backpack were lying on top of his desk while her shoes were stored under.

"Sorry, Kit."

He flipped his disposable phone shut and set it by the innocuous skull before directing his attention back to her, eyes tracing the baby blue cat on her sweater.

"That's just what I have to deal with sometimes. Money is money but damn, I'm not that broke!"

"I understand! What are we going to do now that we're all Rambo'd out?"

"Iunno. I had long-ass week. I like that my boss plans events early for maximum profit but Easter isn't until the last damn day of March! He wants my drafts for advertising by Monday."

She scrunched her lips in sympathy.

"They're working my 'zorz so hard. Didn't you struggle with the Valentine's ads too?"

"God yes, but it was worth it. Everybody and they mama showed up. Not to mention free for ladies until eleven? Oh yeah, it went down."

Meulin looked over to the window above the nightstand in thought. They had celebrated early in the day while he must have joined the festivities at night. She wondered whether or not there were other pretty vixens to scope with wandering eyes...

"Did you find one that you liked?"

"Huh?"

He looked up at her just as she hid her pensive face with a smile.

"Find what?"

"Nothing, it's okay. Maybe we should take a cat nap. That always makes me feel better."

"That's a bitchin' idea!"

Meulin moved her body away so that it was in his similar position before he got up and walked out of his room, most likely in the direction of the bathroom. She scampered to her backpack, deciding to quickly change into something more comfortable. She tugged out some long, grey pajama pants and a white tank top. She didn't notice Kurloz had come back right when she had removed most of her clothing so only the underwear remained. She jumped when he squeezed her side without warning.

"Eek!"

With face now red, she looked over to the fact that he was down to nothing but his blue-checkered boxers.

"Damn, you way ahead of me."

He moved the pillows flat on the black comforter before he lied down with hands behind his head, one leg bent and eyes placed at the ICP poster on the wall in front of him. This way of sleeping had been new. She had asked about it one day and he simply replied that he felt more comfortable around her. It was no thing for him to be clothed in this manner, even with the face paint on. Too bad it wasn't the same for her. She hastily slipped into her sleepwear and even undid her bra by unhooking the clasp, taking off the each strap from over her arms and slipping it off by the front. The rest of her clothes were messily shoved in her backpack before she approached him.

"…How does it feel to do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"To be comfurtable like that, you know, just to just wear nothing but your boxers."

Kurloz shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. You've never slept in the buff before?"

"Well, not nude, but not really in my underwear either."

"You should try it, then. Shit feels crazy good, especially when it's hot. And 'cause the heat in this house doesn't really have an in-between, when I turn it to warm it means motherfuckin' warm."

She laughed and shyly intertwined her hands behind her back.

"I think I wouldn't look as good as you."

Kurloz lifted his arms and lowered them beside himself, putting on a rather concerned face.

"Why you say that?"

"No, nevermind."

"…Aight. But I'm tellin' you, sleeping like this is amazing. I can't do it all the time 'cause of nosy-bro upstairs and the fact that I have to be presentable during sales or at least an emergency and I know I get lazy when-"

Meulin wasn't paying attention anymore, gazing downward where her fingers stroked the soft fabric of her tank top. She took a bath, shaved and she made sure to cleanse every nook and cranny there was. Sometimes she would prepare for these nights, just in case she was feeling…magnanimous.

No such day came yet; they were having fun, taking it easy and still acted like close friends but her uncontrollable heart, she steadily realized, was not. Sometimes, she would think about how comfortable he made her feel. Kurloz could kiss her in ways that gave her small goose bumps all over, or preach about wisdom that made her swoon and admire his place in life. It was always the small things that kept her so inclined. She also knew how important it was to share her first time. If she could take away anything from all those sex-education classes, prepubescent growing-up books and even her own mother, it was to give herself to someone that cared about her. It still seemed too early to think about any of these things, but even then…

…she might not find another man like him in her lifetime.

Her arms crossed, lifting up the loose top before gently chucking it on the work desk. Kurloz had stopped talking, propped himself up with his elbows and worried about her unresponsive nature but remained silent at the sudden action. Her thumbs dug beneath the band of her pants before pushing them down, lifting her feet away and placing them beside her shirt. Kurloz could now clearly see her red polka-dotted panties with its white bow in the center of the stretchy band. Meulin looked over to him and smiled.

"…Cat got your tongue?"

"It got somethin'"

She giggled, took a few steps towards the bed and crawled over his body before she lied down next to him. He shifted over to properly face her, their heads linear.

"So, how do it feel?"

"A little cold."

"What? Really?"

He craned his neck to squint at the digital, room temperature meter below his poster. After he deemed the attempt futile, he lied back down.

"I guess it went off. Want me to warm you up?"

"In what way!? I know you!"

She grinned while he became mock-offended.

"What? We can't just cuddle like we normally do? My body temp is hotter than yours so I'm a valid-ass heat source. You better be glad I'm offering."

"You're so silly!"

"You know what I do how I do when I do it, ninjette."

She scrunched her nose and cackled, inching closer and tangling a leg between his while his right hand rested on the side of her waist. He closed his eyes while she took the time to notice his healthy shade of skin; the small black freckles that were scattered on his abdomen and the small, faded scars across it. Then her eyes trailed back up to the almost amusing comparison but at least he could paint over his face. She thought about powders and blushes but for some reason it was too much a feminine stretch. Maybe it could hide other things like the almost faded surgery scar across her hip and inner thigh.

"…Kurloz?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think of other women?"

He opened his eyes, knowing how serious of a question it was.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't be the only woman you think about."

"Why not?"

"I don't know! That's weird to think about, even fur me. You have to think about some women from time to time, maybe on the internet or in a club or some that just pass you by! You were a 'Mack Daddy' befur me, weren't you?"

Kurloz furrowed his brow, looked at the wall behind her and stuck his tongue in his cheek. She figured he was at a loss for words at the label and she had been too when she first heard it from Cronus.

"…Is this a trick question?"

She giggled and shook her head.

"No, I'm just curious!"

He glanced back at her.

"That's a bit much to be curious about. Listen, if you're still worried about me running of into the night and-"

"No, I trust you! But, you know we're friend, right? You can tell me anything."

After a moment he relaxed the muscles in his face and body.

"…Okay. First of all, I'm a man so yes, it's pretty much wired into my brain most of the day. I'm not that big on looking at porn 'cause I could just go and do all that myself. I might for inspiration, but I mean…"

He shrugged his shoulders while she scrunched her mouth in disbelief.

"Yeah, right! Isn't there some 'Busty Juggalo babes dot com' or 'Faygo spraying boobies dot net' or…I don't know…something?"

"You cannot be serious!"

He removed the hand on her hip, covered his half of his face and laughed.

"I'm sorry, but I am!"

"Oh fuck, that is too funny! I might have to go clear my browser history."

"What!? No, don't do that!"

She playfully pushed his shoulder while he snorted and put his hand back on her hip.

"But to clear it up, I am not that much of a ladies man, no matter what anyone tells you. I actually prefer something more long term just because I can manage it."

"I see!"

They lied there, each amused by the strangeness of the conversation.

"But seriously, why you askin' all of this?"

She shrugged and stared at the ashy grey pillow he lied on in thought. After a while, they landed back on his lips.

"Can I confide in you?"

"Of course you can."

"I kinda don't know what you still see in me. I know I can be funny at times and I try to be happy and stuff but I feel like you can always do better, you know? I think about all the women you could be with but you're stuck with me…"

His face hardened and she regretted ever opening her big mouth. She silently prayed this wouldn't turn into one of those impromptu 'you need to feel good about yourself and your life choices' interventions but he miraculously kept quiet for the time being.

Finally, his eyes softened and his lips started to form words.

"Meulin, you're different to me. You-"

"I'm sorry but purlease don't go on about how 'great' and 'open' of a purrson I am and how I have such 'personality' and I should up my self-esteem beclaws it's easier said than done. Trust me, I've been told that way too many times by Horuss-"

"Horuss?"

"Oh! Horuss Zahhak. I never told you about him!"

"Zahhak?"

"Mmhm!"

He cringed.

"Uh…let's stay back on topic, okay?"

She shrugged.

"Okay…"

"If you don't want me to go on and on and on about how beautiful you are and that I am with you at my own free will then what do you want me to tell you?"

"I don't know…I compare myself with others too much. It's just what I do when I think about you and me. I don't wear any super fancy dresses or put on lots of make-up efurry day and I never find anything special about me that you would go crazy ofur. Sometimes I feel like you're lucky beclaws you have the option of covering your face up. I don't. And I'm sure I'd just get weird looks. Sometimes I just…don't feel worthy. I see all those thin, purrty ladies that could go to your club and instead of admiring them I just feel bad about myself."

She barely uttered the last part, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. She felt stupid. All she wanted to do now was dig into her backpack and put her clothes back on. How could she feel this way about herself when there were girls bigger than her with way bigger self-esteem? Oh, how she wished she could just nab a little of that confidence so that maybe she could be humble about her life instead of seeking attention from someone she knew already made her feel acceptable.

She felt Kurloz's hand leave her hip as he abruptly sat up from his spot on the bed, stood and walked out the doorway.

Meulin laid there, chest swollen from a sudden anxiety. Her eyes focused on the subtle indent made on his firm pillow. Seconds turned into minutes as her eyes wandered all across his room. It had such character to it. And that's when she noticed her birthday presents on top of his brown dresser. It was reclined and between the line of stitched voodoo dolls. Now she felt stupider.

Maybe he left to ponder whether or not he could handle this type of situation. While he was great with advice this was a much deeper topic, border-lining confessions made to intimate lovers. She shouldn't have said anything. This might as well be a burden for him to bear and to say the wrong words was to risk the whole mood of their night. He might be older than her but there's always the possibility of being inexperienced about certain aspects of life. This could well be one of them.

She sighed, pushed herself up on the bed with one arm, rotated her legs on the edge and scooted so that her feet could firmly plant themselves on the floorboard. Her head hung low and so did her eyes, skin covered in small goose bumps now that her source of warmth was gone.

It wasn't worth looking, she thought, when she saw his feet come into her peripheral vision. Her neutral expression was unchanged and most of the hair over her shoulders blocked her view. The bed sunk when he sat beside her, she sensing that intense stare of his. He most likely waited for her to face him but she didn't want the eventual mediation of her feelings towards herself just yet. It took a moment to placate her wild heartbeat and lessen the pressure in her chest. Meulin ran her fingers through the right side of her soft hairs all the way to the back, straightened her back and looked beside herself.

She froze.

Her hand stopped its movement, elbow sticking out of place and her lips slightly parted. She didn't know exactly where to look first, eyes fixated on his own which stared with a deep intensity. So that's where she started. The dark outlines of paint made them look exotic and slender, but in reality they had an almond shape. His darkened eyebrows were thick like she thought and still matched the color of his curly hair. What had struck her most was the tiny, black freckles scattered across his face similar to that on his chest. Her eyes spotted a few on his forehead, one or two on his cheek that were lighter than the rest, his nose, and finally his dusty lips. His face wasn't lighter than she thought rather it was the same shade as his wheat-colored skin.

Her eyes darted everywhere in a sudden frenzy, like the vision of him would disappear. They went from the darkened circles under his eyes and back to his tender lips. Her mind finally comprehended the unimaginable fact that she was staring at his face, his real face.

She gradually lowered her arm away from her line of sight, the impact finally taking hold of her entire being. She turned her body so that it directly faced him. He didn't move, or speak, and just sat there to let her soak up the rarity like a sponge. It was unbelievable how gorgeously his blood blended with his cheeks which were still damp from water. It must have taken him some time to scrub everything off.

Her fingers slowly curled and grew the incessant urge to caress them. Slowly did her right hand ascend, fingertips grazing softly on the skin like it was fragile paper. They expanded and her whole hand cupped his cheek, feeling the softness and heat that produced from it.

It was like a dream.

He closed his eyes at the sensation and she scooted closer, now noting his long lashes and how his lips were different shades from one another. There was even a small patch of visible stubble that formed on the bottom of his chin. This was done for her. It was all because she had to drone on about trivial matters but he went and revealed his visage anyways. How long, she thought, had it been since he's shown another his appearance like this? How long since someone was actually close enough to witness, or even embrace it in this way?

She placed her other hand on his bare shoulder, restraining to kiss every part of him, press her cheek against his own and never let time take away such a moment.

"You're beautiful."

Kurloz eyes kept closed while she felt a small gust of breath on her nose when he chortled. Faint lines became visible on the sides of his lashes while a small dimple formed on his lopsided smile.

"Not exactly what I thought I would hear but thanks."

Meulin laughed breathily.

"I'm sorry. You're handsome."

"I'll take that too."

She couldn't stop grinning. She didn't think she would ever stop grinning. Kurloz finally pried his eyes open and she marveled his gleeful face. She wasn't even cold anymore; his joy and act of intimacy had kept her warm the entire time.

"You feel better now?"

Her heart expanded inside her chest, fluttering wildly like a hummingbird. A new feeling replaced the cage inside of her. It was hard and sudden and even overwhelming but it didn't matter. She looked over his beauty and could only feel gratitude and love.

Meulin Leijon was in love.

It started with a cautious, chaste brush of lips, a wordless expression of gratitude. She moved the hand from his cheek to his other shoulder and gripped with care. Those small goose bumps pricked her cheeks again and her cage was filled with a gentle heat that made her winged creature still with content. A small exhale escaped his nose and his hands placed themselves beside her waist. Curiosity got the better of them both as she steadily moved away from her simple kiss and enjoyed the sensation of skin sticking together before it released. Her affection made a butterfly trail to the corner of his lips, jawline, cheek, brow and even his forehead. The kiss lingered, channeling all of her newfound love for him through the physical connection.

She inhaled the new scent of fresh cotton on his skin and his hands took firm hold of her waist. His head moved away to plant his own kisses on her neck, making her body tingle all over and she slowly lowered herself back onto the bed, pulling him with her. Her legs parted and bent beside him while he comfortably lied on top of her, hands threaded deep in his hair. His head raised, only to press his lips back onto hers again. A while back, it had been embarrassing to finally confess that she never French kissed and she was told not to think much of it and pretend it was a game. Whatever he did, she could just copy and someday she had gotten more comfortable with the prospect.

They slowly moved their lips together in a practiced unison, him eventually requesting access to her mouth with his tongue and she obliging while they moved them around in bliss. He squeezed her sides and she moaned pleasantly, her hands sliding to the top of his shoulders. He broke the kiss and she relished in the passionate sensation that followed, straightening her legs out and trying to form speech with her sweltering lips.

"I want you."

Kurloz scrunched his eyes shut and blinked a few times, not quite catching what he just heard.

"I'm sorry?"

He waited until she had finally opened her own, she sporting a euphoric smile.

"What did you say?"

"I want you, Kurloz."

The back of her hand brushed delicately across his burning cheek and he just stared, stock still.

"I want you like this."

He looked over to the night stand in concern, like it was to repeat what she had said for confirmation, then back down at her, face explicit in hesitation.

"Wait. Are you sure?"

She nodded, blissful smile widening.

"No, seriously, that's a big step. You can't take that back, Meulin. You-"

She playfully slapped her hand on his mouth and held it there.

"…You're talking too much."

After seeing his unchanging eyes she moved her hand and he tried once more.

"Meulin-"

"I'm sure, Kurloz. I am! Really! I want to."

He glanced over to the night stand again, face pensive and lips silent before he finally looked over to his brown dresser, sat upright and leaned forward to move off the bed.

But not before his knee slipped off the edge, causing him to flail his arms and his whole body to plummet straight down on the floor in an ungraceful manner.

"Fuck!"

Meulin didn't mean to burst out laughing; her head craned as far back into the pillow as it could and her hands clenched her bare stomach in mirth. She saw him stand with haste in the corner of her eye, one hand ran through his hair while the other placed itself on his waist. It almost seemed like he didn't know what to do next. It was adorable.

His head faced on way and his feet faced another. Finally his hands directed him towards his first drawer, opening it and once again facing the stacks of paper and unnecessary trinkets. She saw his arm dig deep and shove through it, head moving around stiffly. She put one hand on her mouth to quell her snickers when he tossed an empty cigarette box on the floor. Then he closed it to open the second drawer, hunching his back and searching through his shirts, then the other drawer, futilely digging all around his folded jeans.

Meulin took this time to rise from her comfortable spot on the bed, scoot to the edge, tip-toe to the front pouch of her backpack, unzip it and pull out an unopened packet of condoms.

Kurloz had looked behind him; body now crouched and became motionless.

"Do you…always…?"

Her cheeks burned at the Implication. No, she just didn't have a box lying around. Her friends had actually visited a sex shop one evening for the halibut, enjoying the perks of stripper heels, oils, lubrication and the like. Aranea bought back a keychain for her with a witty saying and Meenah, well, gave her the box of embarrassment. But at least nobody could tell her she wasn't prepared. Meulin rapidly shook her head, Kurloz closed the drawer and stood, showing an ardent smile. They both headed back to the bed, she sitting down and laying the box beside her while he chucked to himself.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, I just…damn."

It really did sum up the entire night. He nabbed the box and opened it while she lied back down on the bed and closed her eyes.

Meulin somewhat envisioned her first time to involve a trail of rose petals, or maybe taken by some Caribbean native that she never had to see again or perhaps on some obscure, bi-curious cruise if someone got her plastered enough. It never involved being with someone she cared about for a realistically long period of time. And besides, the only experience she's ever had is with numerous x rated fictions. She could only imagine where this could lead. Kurloz could tease her, head to toe and then ask if she was ready and when she agreed he could break through her virginity. It would be slow at first, but steadily would he send her into rapture with his unusually adept love making. She could scratch all across his back, scream out his name and maybe they would orgasm in perfect synchronization while proclaiming their undying love for one another; a happy ending for all involved.

Meulin Leijon's first time unexpectedly debunked every fantasy she had ever read in her lifetime.

First of all, she was too nervous to focus on any of his affections. Sure, she had experienced them and reacted accordingly. Who wouldn't when he had licked down her neck, kissed her sternum, given attention to her breasts and even caressed the outside of her panties with limber fingertips? She naturally drew out hushed, tender whines of lust but her mind raced like a sped up clock. Would it hurt or wouldn't it? Did she use enough bubble bath? What did she eat earlier today? What didn't she eat today? How can he stand doing so much of the work? Should she interject? In the end, her questions had morphed into thoughts she couldn't take seriously and she distracted herself with him asking visual permission to take off her panties.

She consented, of course.

Kurloz spread her thighs wide open and proceed to please her with his deft and willing tongue. It was unlike any night he had done so. Normally, he learned what aroused her the most and moved with timely expertise, leaving her soaked and satisfied in a matter of minutes but in that moment his advances were deliberately unhurried. He would kiss her at times, savoring every stroke of and graze of his teeth. It was arousing in thought but in action it was unbelievably embarrassing. She avoided looking down altogether, fixing her gaze on the ceiling with a hitch of breath here and an elicited, soft moan there.

Then came the really embarrassing part, for him at least. After he was done teasing, he crawled on top of her just to retrieve a lucky square in the box that idly beside his analog clock. She had elevated herself with her elbows, unable to look away when he sat back and pulled down the last article of clothing, discarding it behind him. His legs crossed as he tore off the wrapping, held the tip and rolled it down his thickness with a precision. It almost seemed like he had been nervous as she ogled with curious eyes and a thought crossed her mind Meulin figured would never emerge. For some reason, she decided to voice it.

"…Is that actually going to fit inside of me?"

Kurloz couldn't help but snicker and she playfully shoved his knee with a foot.

"Sorry."

He tossed the wrapping on the nightstand and loomed over her while she smiled and lied back down on the bed. He lowered himself so that they could share an innocent kiss before she leaned back and asked:

"Can we do this without the light, please?"

He agreed, understanding the scrutiny and told her to squeeze his shoulders if she felt any sort of pain or discomfort. She nodded and at last he reached for the small, protruding knob on his lamp and pushed it, sending the room in subtle darkness.

Kurloz spread Meulin wide. She tried her best to focus on her breathing and quell the tension of her beating heart. He managed to fit the tip in without problems and her hands firmly held onto him while she let out a deep sigh. He eased himself in continuously before she sunk her nails in his skin and gasped from a sharp pain. It couldn't be described as nothing else but breaking a thin piece of skin. It was different for every woman, or so she heard; some breezed through it, others bled and some even cried. She guessed she would just be the unluckier of the bunch. Her fictions never described it as something this intense, like a bleeding cut.

He waited before her grip softened and the muscles in her face relaxed. She nodded to signal that he could continue and he had buried himself halfway in before her nails dug, her toes curled, her eyes squeezed hard and she bared her teeth at how it really, really hurt.

It might have been the faint lighting from the window that gave her away but whatever it was, it was enough for him to kiss her forehead before carefully pulling out. He removed her hands from his shoulders, placed them beside herself and left the bed altogether. She exhaled in a small relief and the tender ache took time to subside so she focused on her breathing again. She felt his weight back on the bed and opened her eyes to find him putting a small bottle on the nightstand before shifting over her and lying on his back.

Meulin looked over and Kurloz curled a finger at her. She pushed herself up with hands and knees, placed her hands on his shoulders again and swung a leg over his waist to position herself above him. At first, she squinted at his contours when he attempted to sign at her, but he accentuated his movements again and used his face and mouth in combination.

'I want you to set the pace.'

She nodded, grateful for the opportunity and leaned down to share a lock of lips. After that she fumbled to position himself inside her again but with his help she had gradually descended and shivered to discover a cool, slick sensation that made it easier for her to move downward. There was no discomfort and she achieved him stretching and filling her completely, which was now one feeling she could finally relate to. She felt herself convulse while she let out calm breaths, he caressing her sides in reassurance.

It had been daunting to move all by herself. He would slip out once or twice, she apologizing dramatically and he hunching his shoulders in gentle laughter. Belatedly, she got the hang of rocking her body back and forth and gripped his shoulders with more force. Her head relaxed and faced down, moving in a smooth and cautious pace. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced and she focused on trying to find that 'spot' or that 'bundle of nerves' or whatever it was called!

She completely forgot about her voice and however she sounded like, it must have been pleasant because he moved his hands up her sides and pulled her downward. Now her body was linear with her face beside his. As soon as he grinded his hips forward those feelings of passion and lust sprang to life. She kept herself up with her lower arms firmly on the comforter while she breathed out sighs and whines beside his ear. It had fueled his fire and his hands slid back down to her sides, speeding up his tempo and almost making her lose all inhibitions. She messily tried to match his pace and his hand moved farther down to her hips, controlling the movements for her and the sensation was too hot and euphoric for her to maintain control. Her mouth was agape with bliss, an abundance of squeaky, curt cries flying out with scrunched eyes. Every moment she was filled with the man she knew she loved and happily given herself to was a moment she enjoyed.

Her hands desperately tangled in his curls and tugged. Next thing she knew, his head craned backwards on the pillow and he moved even faster to the point where it looked like she was in pain, but it was far from it, even the opposite. She hollered a long, drawn out cry before catching her breath while a sweltering desire got hotter and hotter until her stomach clenched, her voice stained and her body leaked fluids from orgasm. He kept going, making it more intense and he evoked one last wail out of her before slowing down and taking his time. Once he stopped, she lied down on his chest, feeling their mingling heartbeats while she bathed in the glow of post-coitus.

After a while, he gingerly rolled her over, locked their lips in a messy kiss before he pulled out for the last time. She felt him shift to the far left of the bed by the wall. The cool air soothed her still mildly flushed body, her natural breaths calmed her down and she didn't figure out that he had finished himself off until it was too late.

Meulin leaned her head to the left, opened her eyes and looked up at his upright torso positioned on the center of the bed. His back was reclined with legs bent and one hand between himself. The sharp contours of his profile showed his craned neck and the rise and fall of his chest. She could only assume his free hand held the used bundle of latex. His head moved to face her and the outlines of his mouth pulled into a lazy, thin smile with his own eyes barely open.

A new sense of affinity and attachment severed the blurred line of friends and lovers, their ship in an earnest course towards somewhere still far off.

Kurloz was the first to move, scooting across the bed and making his way across his room and outside the doorway. Meulin assumed it was towards the bathroom and eventually she would have to as well so she sat up with her weakened arms. Minutes passed and she fully calmed before he came back with a new pair of boxers. She cautiously stood, grabbed her backpack and he managed to plant a kiss on her cheek before she headed out towards the light on the left side of his room and opposite the wooden stairs.

It took a moment to clean up but she avoided looking at her face. Her wild mane, however, was fully noticeable in the corners of her eyes and she settled with the thought of brushing it in the morning. She wet her face, put on plain grey, cotton panties and a white tank top before turning off the light, walking back into his bedroom and shutting the door behind her. The tossed panties on his work desk were shoved it in a separate compartment inside her backpack and zipped up. Her love already burrowed himself under the sheets and after slipping beside him with his open arms and tangled legs she cracked a tiny smile. The unnoticeable stains above would most likely be dealt with tomorrow.

The rest of the night was full of surprises.

Kurloz and Meulin stayed in their position for a good half hour before he leaned over, turned on the light and complained that his arm had fell asleep. She snorted and giggled herself into an apologetic fit. Another debunked aspect of fictions; no matter how romantic, there are some positions that are downright unrealistic. He suggested for her to turn around so they could spoon but that didn't end well due to her messier than usual hair. So they settled with their heads and bodies facing one another without touching and he turned off the light again. Meulin couldn't stop beaming over the fact that his breath was hot against hers and the contours of his face looked like he practically squished his face on the pillow, or like a perk he had let go of for far too long. Late in the night, she completely concealed herself in the sheets and pressed herself up against his chest, but that didn't last for too long. She became hot and moved the covers away. He kept shifting, bumping into her now and then and it disturbed her sleep. It went on for hours. She would face away from him and he would curl beside her, forgetting the hair. Then he would lie on his back and she would huddle one of his arms. After that, they both eventually fell into a deep rem sleep. Her face pressed against his shoulder, dreaming of the bright daylight and the morning when she would awake with happy thoughts and affirm that they weren't a dream, that it was real, and it was something she could keep with her forever.

INTERMISSION

Chapter 5: Something In the Way You Are

Part II

Meulin roused from her sleep to an acute spasm inside her vaginal walls.

She cringed and impulsively pressed both hands on top of her panties. While it left as fast as it came, the relief to her tense face was long overdue.

It was certainly one innovative wake-up call.

From the looks under the sheets, Kurloz and she were more or less still positioned in the same way they fell asleep but it looked like her head was beside his waist. She peeked from above. Beauteous, white daylight flooded her sight and blurred the ends of her lashes. Little by little did it focus and the side of Kurloz's abdomen came into view. She smelled an unpleasant ash and with eyes now wide, she craned her head up to see her lover reclined on the wall with his pillow behind him. His eyes looked tranquil as he indulged in his guilty pleasure and she murmured.

"Hi."

Kurloz snapped out of his secluded daydreams and looked downward only to give her his signature smile as he held his cigarette above the ash tray that was placed on his lap. Even though the curls of his hair looked more tangled than normal, giving the impression of bedhead, it still framed his face regally while the natural luminescence highlighted his otherwise mirthful appearance.

"Well good morning, precious kitty cat."

The memories of last night were still fresh inside of her mind. It had not been a dream after all. His face was still wonderfully bare and he still was in possession of her timeless gift.

She beamed and carefully lifted herself from under the sheets while Kurloz held his ashtray up in his left hand. Her body mimicked his position and she looked over to the window which exposed the same weather she would see at her home state. It was blank and foggy and a nice touch to the awaited morning after. The temperature must have worked overnight because she was just as warm outside the sheets as she was inside. She attempted to shift so that her body could face him but not before her face tightened and she held onto her lower stomach again.

"You alright, baby?"

He put the ash tray down and gently placed a hand on her upper arm. She let out a few breaths before smiling up at his apprehensive expression, not catching what he mouthed to her.

"What did you say?"

"Are you alright?"

"Mmhm. It must be healing or something."

"I should've been gentler."

"No, it's okay! I don't regret anything."

He exhaled, slowly released his hold on her arm before he held a neutral expression on the comforter and took a heavy drag of his cigarette. She took this opportunity to observe him with curious eyes. It wasn't noticeable at first, but now she could plainly see a trace of dark stubble across his jawline and even his upper lip. He was an unshaven guy all over but the thought of it there never crossed her mind.

Strings of ash expelled from his mouth and nose before he lowered his cigarette back down on the ashtray and looked back at her again. Combined with the discoloration under his eyes, he almost looked like a different person. Kurloz was one with a few deep misfortunes to carry but the visual enhanced it to the point where he looked stern, prideful, focused...

...even virile.

"Sorry…"

He looked back down to the arising ash and put out his cigarette before leaning over and setting the glass tray beside his polka-dot analog clock. She caught the harsh scent in her nose and lightly wheezed.

"It's okay with me."

"It shouldn't be, it's a bad habit I need to kick."

He leaned back on the corner of his adjoining walls and held his arms wide open.

"I'm lonely."

She grinned and crawled over to him, sitting on his lap and laying her head on his hard chest while he wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hug. Her head rose so they could share a small kiss, she still smelling chemicals from his tainted lips.

In spite of that, she still cherished the feeling.

He was the first to break it off, skin still sticking like an after effect and inquired about her wellbeing.

"Tell me how you feel right now."

"I feel great, like I can take on the world! I think the pain stopped too."

"That's good. I was worried for a sec."

"Don't worry. I'm good with recofurry."

He nodded while she put her hands on his shoulders and rested her forearms on his biceps.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel good."

She beamed.

"But, I should say that I was nervous as fuck last night."

"…Really?"

"Yeah."

She was slightly comforted by this fact, seeing as she was in jitters until the very last moments of their love making. He sure did do one hell of a job at hiding his, though.

"How is that pawsible? You were so calm and gentle. I bet all the lovely virgins line up fur you all the time!"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead.

"Nah. You were my first."

"Huh?"

"My first virgin."

Meulin tilted her head, hoping he wasn't telling some sort of joke. It wasn't exactly the response she expected.

"Seriously?"

Kurloz nodded, amused expression still retained.

"That's…that's really weird. I mean, it's not weird but I just thought that since you're so charming, someone must have at some point."

"Maybe. Even if they did, they probably wouldn't have told me."

"Why not?"

Kurloz stiffed his lip and looked back over to the comforter, deep in thought before he finally answered.

"I don't think anyone trusted me."

She looked all around his delicate face with pensive eyes. He was a reserved person but...untrustworthy? Considering the few times he did tell her white lies, it would make sense but he couldn't have been that way growing up. She wondered for a moment what his childhood was like. There were still so many questions she wanted the answers to but settled with her own statement.

"I trust you."

He looked back and smiled lovingly at her, pressing his soft lips against one of her eyelids when she closed it for him. It was all the reassurance she needed that he was indeed the one she wanted to give herself to, physically and emotionally.

"…That feels nice."

She opened her eye again once he leaned back on the white wall.

"Well aren't you gonna ask me why?"

He chuckled and ran a hand through the side of his hair.

"Alright. Why?"

"Because I love you."

Kurloz's hand froze, much like hers when she had found out he removed his paint. He blinked a few times, letting it slowly descend onto the sheets. His face softened, almost contemplating the existence of those words she had rightfully uttered. She felt the small hummingbird in her chest still with a calm tenderness. Her lips had parted from anxiousness and her eyes fixated on his while he gazed back onto the chalky, pitch dark bedspread. It was like looking into a processor and waiting for any sort of displaying reaction. His face was placid and the emotions in his eyes were unreadable. Meulin's chest slowly expanded with a small excruciation and her back straightened. The arm behind her loosened its hold and he finally looked right at her.

His gaze lodged a shard into her dark chasm, making her tendrils of darkness shrivel in uncertainty. It was cold and thin like ice. The breath that she inhaled distributed its cool feeling inside her chest and her own stare intensified with wonder. It lasted for what seemed like a long time but only seconds had passed, she still eagerly waiting for his reply.

But what came was not something she thought to prepare for, or believe would happen. He observed her like a foreign creature, eyes flashing with a beauty of vast emptiness. And then she saw a glimpse of something new and bright, his eyes softening and the edges of his lips tugging into a small smile. The hand on the comforter ascended to cup her cheek but the coolness reminded her of his kin. She smiled back, comforted by the now visible flashes of emotion.

He then uttered words she would never forget in her life.

"Thank you."

The shard penetrated deeper until it shattered, taking with it whatever confidence she had left in absolutely everything and anything.

Kurloz's smile widened, eyes slit in a serene gaze while he slithered his arms back around her waist and pulled her into a tight hug with his face buried in the crook of her neck. She just looked up at the bare, blank white walls made even brighter by the bare, blank sky that surrounded them. It was no longer comforting, or nostalgic of home or even lively. Her small hummingbird fluttered with shock, now devoured by a nothingness that could not harvest life, or growth or any warm-blooded mammal for too long. She realized that was what she had looked into.

It was a certain death.

Her expression reflected that of her heart looking back on a never ending cycle of setbacks. The pain suddenly severed her poor bird's wings clean off and she grimaced at the thought with teeth gritted. The inhale to her lungs didn't feel cold, only vacant of a life that would be missed and she dared not let any tears rise from her eyes, utterly sick of expelling them for the man who embraced her so.

The arms around her moved so that his hands could languidly trail up and down her rigid back. The pressure inside her chest only escalated while a dozen anchors sunk their ship with no hope or liberation. She, along with it, drowned in her own darkness from the path that was not her own.

And it hurt. It hurt more than any part of her broken virginity. She was thoroughly despaired.

His head lifted to face her and she only smiled, putting up the emergency shell of her happy-go-lucky demeanor. For now, she would be his cat girl with high hopes and spiriting dreams.

She didn't see him say it when they shared a deep kiss. She didn't see him say it when they dressed in the bathroom. She didn't see him say it when he had cooked them both a warm breakfast. He never said it when they stood beside the entrance of his home while they hugged and kissed and wished each other well. She didn't see him say it when he offered her a ride and she declined, lying about wanting to enjoy the pale weather that reminded her of home. She didn't don her feline appendages, he never asked why and she walked the long trek home with a wave and a small goodbye. He certainly didn't come running to her and confessing while she blended into the mood of the daunting sky like a chameleon.

There was not a sob or a choke or even a small whine. She ignored every concerned face that passed her by.

She didn't see a text when she came home, undressed and huddled in her bed, holding onto the meddling device. It never came when the silent tears fell from her face, one by one and her darling cat curled up against her in bed. She finally broke down, cuddled her greed dyed cat doll for dear life, screaming to the unmerciful stars above.

She eventually went to sleep with that one single thought.

He never said it. Not once.

And she was completely convinced that he never would.

He knew that one day this time would come and its presence would surface…

…Kurloz Makara.

Poor, desperate and pathetic Kurloz Makara.

Underneath the veil were gritted teeth, neglected disease and a rather abominable scent. In order to recover whatever life there was left in his relationship, he would have to lift the concealment of obscurity, it lunging out and hauling at him just as equally as he would haul upon it. He would reflexively shield his eyes with his hands from the scratches, tears and decay. He would instinctively cower at the flaky skin and mixtures of pink and white fluids, bleeding with carelessness. He would compulsively disgorge before his arch-nemesis in plain, uncensored sight.

It would quite possibly be the worst thing he could ever do and he would be willing to do it for her. He would suffer but it was incomparable to the almost deathly clutch on his heart at the suffering he knew was inflicted within her being. What did happened that night? Why didn't he reciprocate under the delicate circumstances? That was the veil he undoubtedly had to lift. It led to his cold, twisted, emotional downfall that intertwined with his past life. He should have known he would be too careless. He should have known he would cave into the fragility of his heart, shriveled with whispers of want and foreseeing her salvation.

Now he couldn't give up and he wouldn't let go.

Knowing there was too much felt and too little said when they last saw each other in the protection of his bedroom, he was conscious that he fucked up on a new set of levels with some, he thought, might not be reversible. So that's why, when she assuredly writhed inside that fateful morning, he would writhe on her behalf. He would tear his lips with his teeth, shut his eyes, hold in his stomach and infiltrate his infected wound deeper and deeper until she would be willing to heal it back to a stable condition.

It was a Wednesday in early March and Meulin sat in his living room.

It was hell and back to get her there.

On Monday, he texted her in the evening about trivial matters and she responded with a few sentences, not the norm from her usual blocks of happy paragraphs. On Tuesday, she responded with one or two words, using less of her cheery emoticons and only the ones that displayed little feeling. At some point, he asked to meet somewhere to talk but she did something she had never done before, she made up an excuse.

[TUESDAY, MARCH 5th, 3:18 PM] NINJETTE to RYDAS PERSONAL: ~(=^‥^) I'm sick right now.

[TUESDAY, MARCH 5th, 3:18 PM] NINJETTE to RYDAS PERSONAL: (^・x・^) Sorry.

It hollowed his very bones and that night, when he got out of the shower, he forced himself to stare at the face of the man who let this happen and who had done wrong for the umpteenth time. He smoked a whole pack of Newport cigarettes and even got fresh with his brother at some point.

On Wednesday morning, just when his workload had been exceptionally busy, he became unfocused and a heavy thought punctured through his chest like a knife. He was increasingly losing the one good thing that had stumbled into his life in a very long time. He was squandering for the one woman whom confessed her love and trust and even allowed him the precious token of her innocence.

For what? The death of his flesh and blood, years of silence and a less than favorable childhood?

He remembered the first day they met. It was that moment when he actually opened his damned mouth not just because of passion and drunkenness but because it was intrinsic. It just felt right.

Meulin Leijon was a physical elixir.

A divine miracle.

That, Kurloz concluded, above all else, was worth exposing his loathsome truth.

He texted her that evening, prayed to all the celestial god-hoods that she would respond and even with the stale disconnect between them, she always managed to bless him with one. He asked for her to come over as soon as she could, the matter of grave importance. She said she was still sick with a runny nose.

And he replied that he didn't give a good motherfuck and would help her get over it.

So there Meulin was, the recent light of his life, sitting on his fuzzy, burgundy rug. One of her favorite Vietnamese soap operas was on with subtitles and he bought her small sushi rolls, texting her friends in desperation as to what her favorite snack was, orange juice and a small packet of tissues. In reality, he was skeptical of her so called 'sickness' and thought she couldn't have procured it right when she left.

Turns out she wasn't lying and that made him feel even worse.

The plastic box of rolls was half eaten, personal carton of juice barely touched but the tissues were used like insulin to a diabetic. She sniffed and blew and dug for treasure when he finally used that as an excuse for why she didn't sit next to him. She was being considerate as usual and that thought alone made him feel better. Her cat appendages donned her frame along with a familiar dark navy sweater, ripped blue jeans and white sneakers. He bit his right thumb while he hunched over on the far left of the brown couch, wearing a loose, grey tee shirt, baggy cargo pants with a black belt and blue converse. The 'mask' on his face was neatly painted back on. He sneered at the dramatic couple on the screen, knowing his sore attitude was because of her lack of attention.

Kurloz leaned over on the couch and tapped her gently on her shoulder, disheartened when she flinched away from him and turned her head so a little more than half of her face showed. He would have told her how adorable she looked with her pinked, irritated button nose but with the slight upturn of her lips he decided it would be against the mood.

"You need anything, like, more tissues or something?"

Meulin grimaced, more than likely because she couldn't read his lips in her position so she fully turned so that he could catch her frown.

"What was that?"

He signed instead.

'Do you need anything?'

'No, I'm fine.' She signed back.

It was clear to anyone that she wasn't. Meulin sniffed and turned her head back to the sixty inch flat-screen television and slumped at the commercial break.

Kurloz straightened his back, pressed his hands flat in a prayer's position, put the sides of his fingertips on his bottom lip and closed his eyes. If there was any supernatural messiah looking down at him, he begged within an inch of his life that he would not regret what he was about to do. His future action would be comparable to a dark secret that one could ultimately destroy him with and if used in a vengeful way, his emotions would more than likely never heal.

It was now or never.

He groggily lifted his frame up from the couch, found the remote sitting idly on the arm of the love seat and turned the television off. Meulin twitched, not knowing what happened and looked over to see the device in his hand. She looked up at him irately, her adorable lips pouting and eyes boring tiny little holes inside his thick skull. He knew better not to interrupt her episodes. He threw the remote back onto the seat cushion beside her backpack and signed again.

'Come with me.'

Meulin only watched as he made his way to the top of the stairs, he looking back and seeing that she didn't move. It was understandable because there was a lot of baggage still below his home but he did not want the conversation casually on the couch. A point had to be made. She quickly downed her orange juice, stuffed the last sushi roll in her mouth, squished her tissue packet in one hand and slowly stood. Her sneakers dragged her towards him, head down and eyes low.

He was thoroughly lucky to have someone who could be livid with him but not be completely done with him. It was just one of the many reasons she was admired. It would be a feat for him to do the same.

They made their way downstairs and inside his room where he flipped on the celling light. Beforehand, he courteously changed the sheets to a cream, fleece bedspread and baby blue pillow cases with matching sheets. He walked over to the edge of his bed and sat with elbows on his knees, hands interlaced and eyes on his floor. How on earth he got the idea that wood, cream carpet and a white rug under his dresser was in anyway coordinated was beyond him. Now he thought it stupid and unfashionable. If Porrim were here, she would have no doubt smacked him across his head.

Meulin walked over, somewhere in a fifty degree angle relative to him but did not made an attempt to sit. He glanced up to see that she stared down the floor just as intently. This was also understandable as she stood in front of the sacred space where he deflowered her. At least she didn't have to be physically reminded as she slept. He ripped the sheets off simply because he couldn't deal with it.

Kurloz moved one of his hands so that she would have to pay attention to his lips and signed, using his face for emphasis.

'Please.'

Meulin rubbed her fingertips on her thumbs and reluctantly sat down on the edge to his left, far enough so that she had her space but close enough so that she could read his lips if need be. But he wasn't having that. Kurloz scooted over, swung her lower legs onto his lap and tugged her closer to him. Naturally, she had become shocked at the nerve and right after folded her arms and puffed her cheeks, a small trail of snot running down her nose. He didn't bother to look her in the eyes and only focused on the floor next to her so that she could readily decipher what he had to say.

Her brows turned down and her eyes slit with reluctance at her new position, snatching a piece of tissue and rubbing her nose. His palms formed sweat when he placed his left hand behind him and his right on one of her knees. He shivered at the feel of his pointed tongue licking the sensitive part of his inner lip. A great chill immersed inside him like the start of a bad fever.

"Um…"

Kurloz begrudgingly knew where to start and it pained him to have to say the two words that inherently loomed in his mind. He widened his mouth and breathed great amount of air before he gathered all of his strength and courage and just…let it out.

"My mother."

He froze and his mouth remained parted, the tip of his tongue grazing the center of his molars. He wanted so badly to bite and rip off what dared gave life to those words. His stomach clenched and his heart sunk while his eyes slit and tried again.

"I guess my dad too and my brother. We all, uh, we lived back in Detroit where I was raised. I was the first born so I got to experience what was happening at the time before he did. Gamzee, I mean."

The upturn on Meulin's lip had loosened up and her eyes softened but her overall demeanor remained skeptical of the potential sob story taking place. He was certain this was how she felt and he exhaled, speaking in a more relaxed manner.

"I don't know how it started, or didn't start, I guess. My dad worked in general motors and my mother worked as a local nurse for a neighboring hospital. They were really smart so we never lived without a roof over our heads or food on the table. I was just a regular-ass kid, except I had more than others so I was always picked on the most. She didn't figure that shit out until the damage was already done. For some reason, they thought it would be promising if I was put in a regular elementary school but they were so ignorant of the lack of funds, the bad teachers and even the shitty racism. I don't know why but I always was tight with my black friends just 'cause for some reason I acted too much like them. I wanted to stay upbeat and keep my spirits high and never wanted to take much seriously which was what we acted like. They always laughed about somethin' and made due with what they had and it was nice because it distracted me from the fact that I didn't want to come home. I didn't want to face the fact that-"

Kurloz abruptly paused, closed his mouth and stuck his tongue between his front incisors. He could bite at any moment, relieving himself from hearing his own reality but the hold from his teeth lifted and he continued.

"-that whenever I came home, I came home to a place where my dad or even my mother never told each other that-…they never…shit."

He closed his eyes and exhaled. Even now, when the phrase didn't hold personal context he couldn't say it. Instead, he clutched air into his hands for emphasis and opened his eyes again.

"That expression, I just, I never heard it. Even when they should have been saying it to me, I was too little to realize just how fucked up their relationship was in the first place. They were only together just so I could live in a complete household, that's it. I mean, they were married and they worked hard and cared about the lives of others so it wasn't like they weren't compassionate. But I guess it was never really brought into the house. And maybe that's when I turned into a little delinquent."

He lifted the hand off the bedspread and scratched the back of his head, wondering where to go from there. In the corner of his eye, he saw that her previous expression changed dramatically. The tension in her face disappeared and her eyes were transfixed on his lips, eyes reserving little judgment. At least, that's what it seemed like. He didn't bother to look and only continued to speak.

"So, yeah, I just became a class clown after that. I had this best friend named Isaiah. God, he was like my other half. We fucked around, got in trouble at the same time, threw paper planes at the teacher and had to write long, boring-ass sentences on paper afterwards promising we'd never do it again. We always did, of course. We would mess around in gym class and we had this small clique at lunch that would talk to everyone else. It was fun. I didn't do well in my classes though and my fam was too busy having their own little silent arguments to give a shit. He was like a home away from home, you know? It lasted for about half the school year, and then…to this day I still don't know all the details but someone told me he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Later, on the news, I found out he was in the vicinity of a drive-by. I shut down after that. I didn't do well with people anymore…

…Dad came down to the school one day and asked the teachers what was wrong with me. I guess the one that I got in trouble with the most figured it out. I gave up on learning and I think that gave him the courage to bring home the baby brother I never knew I had. Gamzee was around three and I was maybe eight or nine at the time. All I knew was that it wasn't from my mother. Later on, he confided in me and said it was to get back at her for having some sort of affair at work. One of my aunties was taking care of him and his real mother died of drug overdose, but he looked healthy to me. He knew that I was lonely fuckin' child with a broken up home and when I saw Gamzee wrapped up in that lavender blanket I guess my dad figured it would be enough motivation to get my act together…"

Kurloz nodded, agreeing with himself that it's what he did. He remembered the brief screen saver he had shown Meulin with the same verbal image.

"But around that time, I was already fuckin' with the wrong crowd. I got myself into a small gang and all we did was break car windows, steal what was inside, ride our bikes everywhere, post up inside abandoned, burned down houses and laugh about it all. Sometimes, we would put our money together and eat at a pizza place and play games and pretend we were just normal kids. I would come home with some scratches and bruises and make up bullshit stories but for some reason I would be there around the time my auntie brought my brother. I tried to teach him to walk. We'd be watching wrestling and I would sneak candy when auntie wasn't looking, just stuff like that. I was a pretty terrible older brother but you got your front teeth knocked out if you said I didn't care about him. I was compassionate but I wasn't no pussy."

Kurloz took a risk, looked at her face and gently pinched her chin.

"No offense."

Meulin was still dabbing at her nose here and there. She let a small smile grace her lips as she responded in a nasally voice.

"None taken."

He nodded and turned back to the floorboard.

"I knew what love was and I knew what it meant to give it to someone so I assumed that's what I was doing with him. I had a purpose when I hustled and meddled in grown folk shit when I shouldn't have. I would come back home with this drive to take care of him. When I would just chill on the floor at home, Gamzee would just look at me sometimes and I would get it. This is what family is supposed to be like. You're supposed to help and protect and be there through the bad and good. But, I mean, when you that young and your parents ain't really shit, you think you know everything…

…Dad got laid off his job and mom's wasn't enough to support us all. We moved to Beforus around, what, two thousand? Two thousand one? I don't remember anymore. All I know was that we should have done it sooner. I love where I came from but at that time, and even now, there wasn't shit for us. It shaped me to be one cold motherfucker and I think I was worried that Gamzee might turn out that way too. We all did. But we moved here into this house and I guess I thought I had it made. No snow to deal with and a fresh start to look forward to? Shit. We would go back and visit relatives in the summer but other than that, this was home…

…A couple years later, my mom thought it was a good idea to baby sit other kids just 'cause she thought I did a good job with him. Gamzee was nine at the time, maybe ten, I don't know. I was fifteen and halfway through my freshman year of high school. I struggled through middle school just because I was still a class clown and a troublemaker and all that. You couldn't get me to shut the fuck up even if you rolled duct tape on my mouth. I did way better once I graduated and since I kept my grades up in the fall, she told me about this girl Gamzee had been going to school with. Their parents had mad chedda so she talked to them about how good of a brother I was and boom, I got the job. It just so happens that's when I got to meet miss water bitch herself. Man, if that was not the worst job I've ever had to work at, I don't fuckin' know what was. She was a prime, spoiled ho to death! I can't even begin to tell you how floored I was when she got a gold trident for her thirteenth birthday! What the fuck! You know what I got when I was thirteen? A bag of Cheetos and some CD's."

Meulin slapped her hands on her mouth to cover her breathy giggles but Kurloz didn't mind. He was enjoying voicing his life into one huge, laughable mess.

"Shit, I had to get my cake a week later just because my fam was struggling with the mortgage and paying the bills! Anyway, I babysat her for about one more year before I finally got my diploma. I think I even humbled her at some point. Fuck, she would just yell and scream when she didn't get her way and rely on mommy and daddy. But she knew I wasn't having that motherfuckin' shit. I told her, too, 'That ain't how you treat family' and she would just make faces and try to lie about shit but there were cameras all over that damn estate, what was there to lie about? It wasn't all bad, though. I saved enough to cover my senior prom and even got to go on a road trip in the summer with some of my closest homeboys. Remember when I told you I didn't think about going to college? Well at some point I actually did. I decided where and when but I still didn't know what I wanted to do. I only knew I wanted to do something with my life. I became roommates with one of my good friends at the time and started to work so I could cover the first year, but um..."

Kurloz, for some reason, found this part a little easier to mention than the others. Meulin fumbled with her hands on her lap because they both knew what was coming.

"In the winter of two thousand and seven, when I was away, Gamzee had committed homicide. I got a phone call from someone who was watching the news and it was the top headline. I immediately drove home to crime scene stickers, flashing lights, ambulances, neighbors across the streets, all of that. And for some reason I didn't even think about my parents. All I could think about was Gamzee. Was he okay, was he safe, when could I see him, why wouldn't they let me see him? Then I saw the two body bags on those stretchers. I felt it in my gut that this wasn't an ordinary murder. Soon enough, when I asked one of the policemen and told them who I was, he said Gamzee had stabbed them twenty three times, twenty three times. All I could think about was how impossible that shit sounded. I mean…that's the number of the day he was born; January twenty third, nineteen ninety four. I didn't believe it. I waited a few weeks later for the autopsy results and there it was, right on paper. Just…"

He paused and felt a sudden chill flow through his face.

"Turns out my own motherfuckin' parents were going to 'sacrifice' him before their 'great messiahs'. Mind you, I didn't know anything about this shit until then but they both had background checks and all the dirt came out. They were part of this small, religious cult years and years ago. They didn't bring Gamzee in because I needed a brother, they brought him in because they wanted to see him grow up and disprove whatever bullshit birthday voodoo nonsense that they actually believed in. I didn't see any evidence of this, not a goddamn thing! Apparently, once he turned thirteen, he would evolve into this great killing machine so they tried to finish him off in his sleep. He had a knife under his pillow and actually stabbed them both; eleven on my dad and twelve on my mom. He had no choice but to act in self-defense because they fucked him up so bad he actually had evidence of drugs in his system. And as a result he became mentally unstable…

…I said little after that. I would visit Gamzee in his correctional facility from time to time until I turned twenty one, put the house in my name and signed to be his new guardian. And I told him I didn't like talking. I would say shit to cashiers, business people, work-related things just to handle business but I felt this desire to be selfish. I think it hit me hard that I didn't have my parents anymore and it hit me more that Gamzee got hurt from them. It was just so conflicting and whenever anyone would ask me about it, I didn't even want to tell them. Anytime someone new found out who I was it had to go back to the murder and it had to go back to my brother and I was so motherfuckin' sick of it. So one day, I just stopped. You know what Gamzee told me? He said, 'brother, that's what the mirthful messiahs would want'. So we learned sign language together and that's how we communicated the rest of my life. I actually didn't have to 'join' his cult and he didn't have to 'convert' me. Since I was blood, I was 'already signed up for the dark carnival.' I still don't know what that shit means, there's a lot of things I still don't know about and that's why I can't tell you about it until I've got it all figured out."

Meulin nodded, bunching up the little tissues she held in her hand.

"I decided that then and there I would be responsible for him. I wanted us to heal from our past and tried to move on. Once I got him into a regular high school we stayed with our grandparent back in Detroit for one summer when I was twenty two. I wanted him to go back to his roots and experience more of where he was born. I didn't realize our lives would change after that. Gamzee had taken this interest in Juggalos; Juggalo this, Juggalo that, the music, the weed, the gatherings, the Faygo, I mean the goddamn works. I knew it existed so I said 'fuck it, why not? He led me to this unofficial gathering in the forest somewhere, I forgot specifically. But shit, I can't even describe how at home I was when I got there. Everyone welcomed us with open arms and kept calling us new 'family'. I guessed that it spoke to Gamzee because it broke him out of his shell and I liked it because everyone was cool-ass people who were living normal lives and when they all got together it was like one huge, non-stop party. God, it was the two craziest weeks of my life. I even spent one weekend in this couple's trailer home just because that's how comfortable my ass was…

…I started to realize more and more how shitty of a guardian I was. I knew Gamzee would sneak off sometimes and come back with band aids on his arms and white powder on his clothes. I couldn't say shit because what could I say? I got high, I got drunk, I fucked, I got high some more, I partied and when it was time to reprimand him it was too late. We both stayed in our little worlds and we couldn't be tied down. It was this idea of new family that really won me over because they actually told us the phrase we had never heard in our entire lives by our own parents. It was every day, all the time, like everyone had Tourette's or somethin'. We rarely saw our relatives when I was young and when my auntie would tell me how she felt I just didn't understand. But I did with Gamzee. I thought it was good for him to hear it from people he liked because I wasn't able to. We were just two fuck-ups who had found our calling. As soon as I got my first face paint, man, it was all over. I didn't grow up with it, like I know I told you and countless others but it's just what I say so I don't have to explain myself. Anyway, I felt changed and renewed and just…a different motherfucker. I didn't see my past anymore, only what I could do now for the only person that mattered to me. So that's why when we left, I cracked down on him a bit. I took on my fuckin' responsibilities, I kept him off hard drugs and I sobered up to handle what I had to handle and I wouldn't have done it for anyone else but him. Yeah, I still partied and had fun but I knew what came first. And in the end, no one is really to blame. I saw that summer as a way to really move on and I prayed that he would just do the same."

After that, Meulin became a secondary object in the room. He didn't focus on her any more. The only thing he was focusing on now was purging in his catharsis, releasing all of the emotions he had never confided to anyone. At some point he looked up at her, all the despair and reluctance clearly washed away. But it didn't matter because he was cleansing in the lift of a tremendous burden and hoped he had gained forgiveness from his messiahs for any of his past transgressions. Kurloz then bounced one of his legs and stared back at the floor, deep in thought about what he wanted to say next. She fidgeted with the edges of her sweater and even took time to blow her nose before he stilled his leg and started again.

"I care about my brother. I would lay my very life on the line for him and he knows this. I believe in our messiahs for him and I accepted his new culture partly for him just so I could get closer. And even then, there's still some shit that gets on my nerves just like there is about being a Juggalo. Yeah, we listen to violent rap, and try to protect our women and have a good time when we can but as much as you want to like a motherfucker, you can't like everything. Sometimes, you have to stop and think: 'Am I actually that comfortable with the person I care about doing drugs or gambling their money away or smoking when they know they're carrying a baby or even throwing their entire life away?' As nice and compassionate as I am, I will knock every sense into that boy until he gets that I don't want him to lead the exact life I have. And yeah, I'm selling weed and I have a less than ideal job but goddammit I've been trying for a very, very long time…

…At the end of the day, I know this paint won't get me a six figure job but at least I know who I am and what I want to do and will have motherfuckin' fun doing it. I'm just trying to live like everyone else is. I'm healthy, so is he, we got a home, we got food and we got what most don't really have right now. And I think I'll be alright with that. What I won't be alright with and why I had to tell you this incredibly huge amount of shit for is the fact that I didn't try to make this work out with you. But I had to tell you the whole cluster-fuck of my past to do it, to get you to understand that love is still a foreign concept to me. I still don't understand it. I don't even like looking at my face anymore. I don't like what I see because all I'm reminded of is an empty man with nowhere to go and nothing to do with life. But when it's on, I actually start to feel like I can accept myself, you know? So, no, Meulin-"

Kurloz looked straight into her eyes, seeing the beauty of her breakdown unfold. He knew it was too much at one time and it was starting to take its toll.

"-I can't tell you what you want to hear right now. That expression holds no weight for me. In fact, it's a little more of a negative connotation and yes I do like big words so shut up."

She giggled like he thought she would, diminishing the gloss in her eyes. He returned the sentiment with a small grin, leaned in and put a soothing hand behind her back.

"I can't guarantee anything. It might take some time, maybe even weeks or months or longer, I don't know. This shit I got here is marrow deep. This is how I've lived my life and this is the only way I know how to cope and survive. This is me. I'm a Juggalo, I have a brother who murdered his parents, I do illegal shit, I do dumb shit and I have terrible but likable friends. But you know what, I know something else for certain and that's the fact that I don't feel worthy enough for you."

He felt the small hiccup she blocked in her stomach, tears brimming within her eyelids.

"I thought about it all day; is it even worth it, does it matter, what gears will I set into motion? I thought about all the consequences getting you involved with me now and you know what, I didn't give a shit. Whether I acknowledged it or not, my mind made that decision a long time ago and it took me here to realize it. Amazing what your body parts will do behind your back. Sometimes, I think you could be better off with someone else just because I'm not much. I can't even tell you three simple words, the most important words in all of existence and I can't bring myself to do it. I can't. I'm sorry. I really am, for everything. I can't take it back but I can tell you why I can't. I don't know. Don't you think that maybe you'd be better off without me?"

Meulin practically teared open her lower lip with her teeth, tender emotions on the very edge. She grimaced in pain, shut her eyes and let the tears fall freely off of her face. Her breath hitched as if she tried to say something but nothing came out. He saw it written all over her face. It was all too much and it was too overwhelming. It wasn't his fault. She was dealing with so much more than a man with simple problems and she wasn't prepared for any of it. He could see the need to let out all the sorrow and she did just that. His lover looked like a baby without her mother, face scrunched and muscles strained all over her face. It didn't help that she was already sick so snot slowly trickled down her nose. Her bangs stuck to her forehead and without warning she had opened her mouth and bellowed out a raspy wail.

And that was it. He had broken her.

Meulin was an absolute mess. Her back hunched and her face gradually lowered towards her lap, sniffing and trying to breathe properly but he could see that undying, twisted pain collide inside and suddenly her back arched, her arms raised, her hands clutched air beside her and her body spasmed.

She cried enormously, like a small child.

"Oh, fuck…I'm…I'm sorry!"

The cry was worse than anything he could have possibly imagined coming out of her. It was filled with heartache and suffering and empathy. She finally understood him and was conflicted with the feeling of liberation and immense sadness.

"Please stop!"

Small streaks of mascara ran down her cheeks, obstructing her vision. Words were of no use and he bit the edge of his tongue, strained expression on his face. He didn't cry about his life anymore as he's done enough but seeing her was slowly betraying those convictions. All he could do was take hold of her head in one of his hands, press it in the crook of his neck, soothe her back with the other and whisper small nothings he knew she could never hear. Meulin quivered violently in his arms, rapidly dug her nails into the back of his shirt and screamed at the top of her lungs. Kurloz bit his tongue so hard, it drew blood. He hissed and cursed to himself at the immense pain all over his body. The grip around her tightened while silent tears streamed down his face, not caring about his past or who felt sorry for him or what he deserved.

Kurloz just wanted Meulin to stop. That's all he prayed for.

"Please, sweetheart…It's okay…It will all be okay, baby…"

She sniffed, sighed and moaned in distress. Her back twitched and her sharp nails scraped against his shirt. She uttered words which weren't decipherable and after a while of sobbing she became silent. He held her, neither saying a word for a long time. His hands constantly threaded in her hair and he could taste the sharp iron in his mouth. She coughed hard and he could feel the build-up in her chest. With face now streaked with tear stains and half of it covered in stringy tresses, he tried to gingerly push her off with his hands on her shoulders but she wouldn't have it. Her nails dug deeper, almost puncturing his skin. After a few more minutes with him still soothing her back she gently pried herself off; the light mascara smudged so she couldn't properly see as she fluttered her eyelashes in pain. Her eyes turned bloodshot, her button nose was red and smothered with snot and there were tears streaks all over her puffy cheeks. A stray string of snot stuck from her nose to his shirt and she waved it off.

"Eww!"

Kurloz laughed. Even in their type of situation, she found some way to lighten the mood. He pulled a few tissues from the packet on her lap and wiped her blinking eyes, then her nose and finally her face. She fluttered her eyes again and was able to see the cheeky yet exhausted expression he put on.

"I'm going upstairs to get you some medicine, okay? You still can't see me, can you?"

Meulin only shrugged her shoulders. He smiled and lifted her body up with his arms, standing and turning around so that he could place her on the cream bedspread and let her rest on one of the baby blue pillows. With a kiss on her forehead and a soothing word he walked over to his dresser and opened the second drawer, pulling out a deep red short-sleeve to change in the bathroom. Once that was done he headed upstairs to find Vitamin C tablets and an alternative bottle of Nyquil inside a stray cabinet in the kitchen. He walked back to the edge of the stairs and he would have made his way down…

…If not for his brother hastily heading out of his bedroom and shoving his arms into his indigo winter coat.

"Gamzee, when did you get in…?"

Gamzee didn't slow his pace, only glared up at him with his own bloodshot eyes.

"Forgot somethin'"

Kurloz turned his body to stare at him slip on his violet sneakers, check fiercely for his keys and slam the door shut behind him. He would have gone after him, or maybe yelled from the doorstep but he had no choice but to shrug it off for now, a bigger priority ahead. So he jogged down his wooden steps and headed into the bathroom once again to wet a lavender washcloth.

When he did go back into his room, he did not expect a sight more amusing than what he beheld.

Meulin was not on top of the sheets, rather, beneath them in the center of his bed. Her body was curled so it shaped to look like a tiny mound. He didn't know why it was comical but it seemed so much like her to do such a thing that he couldn't help but find it endearing. Kurloz moved across the carpet to put down the medicine bottles on his work desk, moved one wooden chair a good distance in front of the bed, sat down with washcloth still in hand and mildly kicked the bed for her attention.

The second she pulled the sheets over her so that only her poor, swollen little face peeked through he cracked a grin.

"Baby, please stop being so motherfuckin' adorable and come out so I can clean your face."

"No!"

She forced the sheets back down so they flopped on the edge, safely covered again. Kurloz covered his eyes and chortled harshly, completely tickled by Meulin and her safety mound. It was like he told his only child that Santa Claus wasn't real and now she didn't even want to look at him. At last, he recovered with a lighter mood, stood up and lifted the covers only to see her curled up in his direction with hands huddled on her chest and legs bent to her stomach. He sat down, letting the covers lie on his tufts of curls, leaned over and began to caress her cheeks with the washcloth.

"…You know, It's not that big of a deal sweetheart."

"YES IT IS! I was actually really upset about the whole thing and now I just feel silly because you had a really good reason for everything and now it hurts because you actually did care about me."

"Still do."

She puffed her cheeks and he wiped off her nose affectionately.

"I'm sorry, Kit."

"No, I'm sorry..."

He smiled and removed the cloth to kiss one of her cheeks.

"Please let me help you. You look miserable and I promise when I'm done we can lie on the bed and watch a marathon of Doctor Who like old times."

"…"

"C'mon, baby."

"…Okay."

She crawled inside the sheets, emerged by the pillows where he finished off her face and handed her the options of medicine. The dissolvable vitamins were chosen, as expected and he went back upstairs to put the Nyquil away and fetch a cool bottle of water. When it was all said and done, he changed into sweat pants and she volunteered to wear one of his oversized shirts. He settled for the black one with the large skull in front. With shoes beside the bed and computer on his lap, they lied together, safely tucked within the blue sheets and cream blanket. She downed half of her water before he examined her face and saw that her sclera was brightening to a light pink but her eyes were still puffy. The cry had not been an attractive one but he would always think of her magnanimity.

He pushed some hairs away from her forehead and he finally saw a smile become visible.

"You feel better?"

"I think so. Are we eating after this?"

"Yeah but you have to wait fifteen minutes because you chose the vitamins."

"Aww."

"I know, I know. You excited for season three, though?"

"My day can't get any worse so I guess I am."

He chuckled, kissed her forehead and hoped some good old time lord action would dispel the rest of her unhappiness. He wrapped an arm around her, she laying her head on his side and placing an arm around his waist. A few minutes into the first episode he began to hear a familiar sob and looked down in worry.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"Where is Rose?!"

"Oh! Uh…"

Oh fuck.

Meulin looked up at him, sniffed and fake-wailed.

"I don't like this show anymooore!"

Kurloz couldn't help but cover his face with his free hand as best he could, poorly concealing the amused grin clearly plastered on his face and quelling the small chuckles that wanted to arise. Meulin only whined through the entire opening sequence.

It would be a long marathon to remember.

At the end of the day, Meulin felt better.

Through half of their marathon, she took back her previous words and mostly expressed her deep fondness over some character named 'Martha'. In-between that, Kurloz had baked pre-fried fish sticks with macaroni and cheese, which she gobbled up with joy, but it still wasn't enough for her to completely recover from the intense burst of emotions she previously unleashed. So, while the evening stars integrated the sky, they decided to finish another time and talked about small matters instead, like his Easter work and her science project. The stiff topic of their week was brought up at some point. He confessed that he was stressed the whole week and smoked more than usual. She admitted to a few shed tears, the cuddle of his cat doll, getting sick from school and watching Vietnamese soap operas to pass the time with a tub of rocky road.

After another vitamin pill was taken, she requested to go home not at the expense of their day but to prepare for school and go to bed early. He understood, it still being a work week and they frazzled from numerous sources. In truth, she wanted to be alone for a while to think things over. Once he dropped her off they shared light kisses and promised to meet somewhere in the weekend like they usually did, not bothering to care whether Gamzee was home or not. Mog was fed before she shed most of her clothes and was at peace within a hot tub full of water and lavender bath salts. She scrubbed, washed and drained her untimely sickness. The heat eased her muscles while the smell calmed her mind and briefly distracted her for the time being.

It wasn't that she didn't want to think about the information given to her, it was just that after all that time, it was still overwhelming.

After Meulin dried off, cleaned the tub, brushed her teeth and set up for school, she settled into her own warm sheets with tissue box on her nightstand and let her mind wander back to the moments only hours ago. Everything clicked and made sense in hindsight. His actions had a direct purpose and could be traced back to his adolescence. She knew any animosity held for him had perished but it was replaced with a deep anxiety for what was now at stake. Kurloz had brought to light very critical and sensitive knowledge and now the importance to apply it was the only thought that invaded her peace. There was a time where she would have backed out from such an uncompromising duty and settled for a simple high school romance, with no heavy encumbrances, just nervous eye shifts and piles of sweat. But she grew in ways that were extraordinary and it was all because of Kurloz. So she would help, step by step, for him to do the same.

In her heart, she urged to shower him with the utmost praise, admiration and love. But whenever she imagined doing it in real life a throbbing ache would make her stomach tighten. That type of innocent doting was not the answer and if she really wanted to sail their relationship in harmonious waters she needed to truly think about what her love required the most. Was it more time between them, a few trinkets of her appreciation and fondness, or perhaps exploring the idea of traditional acts within a relationship? There was dinner and a movie, a walk in the park, a drive to the beach or even something as simple as a night out in a restaurant. All stereotypical, yes, but it was appropriate for a smooth transition into romantic bonding, especially since he wasn't all that experienced with it.

And neither was she. The situation couldn't be any more magnificent, or so she hoped.

Thursday came and went, while on Friday, she finally spent time with her favored male friend, Horuss. They went out for gelato and walked across unfamiliar boulevards. Even though it was still nippy, she appreciated the cool treat while winter tried to keep its grasp on the world. It was a while since she inquired about the week she couldn't get a hold of him and he brushed it off with being busy assembling 'hoof-beasts' without distractions and apologized for it.

Meulin held his 'hoof' while they sat outside an Italian restaurant, looked up and asked for his advice.

"Horuss, you know I'm really good with relationships right?"

He stopped eating his mixed berry treat from a white, plastic spoon and lowered it on the small cup.

"Of course."

"And you know that sometimes I can't even apply it to my own?"

"I'm well aware of the rather sympathetic irony."

She snorted and squeezed his 'hoof'.

"Well, I'd like to ask you a question."

"Go right ahead."

"Horuss…what do you do when you love someone a lot and you really want to express it in a simple way as to not push any sort of boundaries?"

Horuss looked deep in thought while she licked pineapple off her spoon.

"Can I receive more detail?"

"Sure! I know you won't tell anybody else about this but what if they've had problems in the past that caused them to think of love as a 'foreign concept'?"

Now he put a 'hoof' under his chin.

"Hmm…I can tell you that when I'm with Rufioh, he sometimes gets finicky with me just because of our differences in interests and I try my best to express my adoration for his in words so that he has no choice but to feel better in comparison."

"Huh?"

"Maybe that's not the right example. What I mean to say is, if anyone feels that love is a 'foreign concept' to them then, in my own quick analysis, they simply need to be immersed more in the phrase by people they care about and whom care about them."

Of course, it was so simple! Meulin couldn't keep her jaw closed at the recommendation. There wasn't a need for trinkets and dinners and movies, although it could be a nice cherry on top of the sweet affection. All that was really needed was for her to simply say how much she loves Kurloz. The expression was still new to her as it was to him.

"Does that help you?"

"You know what? Sometimes, you are just too perf!"

"Yes, you've told me boundless times and I've been flattered at each. Thank you. You should eat your gelato before it melts!"

"Hey! It won't melt. It's in the sixties today, isn't it?"

"By the turtle rate you're going, you could give it enough time to be in the seventies."

She blew raspberries and he only smiled before they decided to continue walking around the blocks of their neighborhood. They enjoyed each other's company and reminisced at fond memories before Horuss escorted her home in the evening and drove off in his navy pick-up truck, back to his apartment, far away.

That evening, having a grand and joyous sense of determination, Meulin asked Kurloz if she could come over on Saturday and he mirthfully obliged, asking in return what she would like for dinner. She said he didn't have to cook and he insisted, typing that any good Midwestern meal of his would whip her right back into health. So she said to surprise her and they committed for her to come around noon for lunch.

Meulin laid out all her clothes, folded them on top of her own drawing desk, stepped downstairs to play with Mog via feathers on hooks and fed her. Afterwards, she brushed her teeth, washed her face, set her alarm, wiggled into her favorite red-violet pajamas and cuddled her green cat plush in bed.

That night, she dreamed of his smile and the day she could safely mend his soul.

Meulin's zealous attitude led her, once again, back to the Makara home.

She admired the exquisite beauty of the twelve o' clock weather. It lightly drizzled on the walk to his home, she carrying an umbrella and wearing only a peach cat sweater under a puffy black jacket with green faux-fur on the edges of the hood, a coal black skirt, white stockings, matching shiny, ink-like dress shoes, ears and tail. The overcast was mixed with shades of rain-filled clouds and sprinkled blue sky. It was windy and cool and as soon as she made the hike up the hill, the stone steps and stood on the white-boarded porch she could see why. The weather beyond the left of his home reflected more of a scattered, sunny afternoon. The orb of light would peek through the changing masses of fluff above and contrasted with the cool blue chroma.

It was a mixture of equal chance, a rare glimpse of separate, atmospheric conditions working together.

She shook her umbrella until all that remained was small beads of water, clutched one strap of her pink backpack and gazed back to the entrance at hand. The fist that held her umbrella lifted and knocked twice, she waiting for only a moment. As soon as a thin strip of amber light entered her vision she sneezed and became light-headed.

"I heard that."

Meulin fluttered her eyes and looked up at her paramour as he sported a gentle smile.

"Sorry. You looked down right when I said 'I heard that' but,-…Yeah, it don't matter."

Kurloz leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth. It tugged into a jolly grin and he moved to the side and let her through. The weather from outside changed the lighting in the home, saturating a golden brown ambiance from the windows. As soon as she stepped through, her nose immediately filled with an enchanting smell of boiled vegetables and meat.

"Wow! What are you making?"

Limber fingers obtained the rain's shelter from her hand and slid her backpack down her arms while she zipped down her jacket, already warmed by the temperature. They both hung them on the free standing coat rack and she was suddenly distracted by his hasty movements toward the kitchen. She could now see that he wore a loose, green tee shirt, baggy grey capris and black converse with his grey socks hiked up halfway to his calves. He opened the lid to a good-sized metal pot on the stove and picked up a wooden spoon beside it. It reminded her of the many spoons at home, untouched for months. Deciding not to pester the chef, Meulin sauntered over to the guest chair at the dining table, sat and looked at scattered envelopes with crinkled letters from bill collectors.

It didn't take long before he came around with a green bowl filled with collard greens and ham slices with chopped green onions. She elatedly hunched her shoulders at the sight on her dining mat and grinned up at him.

"This looks amazing!"

"Girl, you don't leave where I'm from without knowing how to throw down on some greens. It's just what it motherfuckin' is!"

She cooed as he strolled back around only to pick up a stray cigarette she now noticed was perched on an ash tray on top the elevated countertop. He put it in the corner of his mouth and turned away, most likely fixing his own bowl. As soon as he came back around, sat down and put it on the dinner mat with the familiar glass ash tray, Meulin plucked the tobacco stick from his lips and pouted.

"Oh, my bad."

Kurloz gave her a lopsided grin, snatched the cigarette back and eradicated the fumes.

"Well, don't keep a ninja hangin'!"

She brought her attention back to the home made delicacy, picked up an already laid out fork on the mat and poked some rich green, loose leaves with a piece of white meat. The taste sent her into a homemade nirvana while the warm juices dribbled down her chin. She hummed at his delight and a sniffle escaped from her nose.

"Don't do that."

"'Can't help it."

Lunch was domestic and sweet. She ran to grab a tiny tissue box from her backpack as soon as her nose ran from the steam while he poured glasses of water in the kitchen as an afterthought. They conversed and laughed and teased and it seemed like a normal lunch date. She almost considered it one but thought it wouldn't be fair since he wouldn't have been aware.

So she kept the happy thought her own little secret.

After the food was long gone, he washed dishes while she politely sat on the couch and flipped through channels in wait, wondering what shows were worth putting on captions for. Within a few minutes, Kurloz came back and she bounced to her feet, meeting him beside the loveseat and embracing his waist.

"Thank you again! I feel much better already."

He returned the gesture and chuckled when she began to purr in the back of her throat.

"You're welcome, kit."

They stood with bodies swaying in sync, she staring deep into his cosmetic darkened eyes. Their shape and loveliness were still appreciated even with the accentuations around it and she adored the way they lit up whenever they saw her content. His lips suddenly moved.

"What you thinking 'bout?"

She gave him a gentle smile.

"Just how much I love you."

His lips returned to its straight edged appearance with face relaxed and eyes bored into hers, an unassuming blankness starting to make her countenance appear neutral. She looked all around the familiar curves and lack of chroma on his face for some subtle trace of acknowledgement but her gaze always felt compelled to regard the dynamic atmosphere inside his orbs. Her chest cavity expanded and crushed onto his, synchronizing their rises and falls with steady heartbeats. A crisp, biting chill brushed against her skin and made her claw his back in desperation.

What was happening?

The chill only added to the unexpected likeness of white that illustrated in her mind's eye. The deep canvas of ivory stretched endlessly below a blended sky of soot and azure. There were no flakes of ice to be found, all of them fallen from the far reaches of faint phosphorescence. And in the presence of nothingness did she tenderly spot a bud from a tall flower, its spiraling, lime leaves shiny and pure as ivy. It beckoned a grave silence to her senses and a release of breath in anticipation.

Kurloz let go of her waist to grip her upper arms with his hands. She felt smoothness from the leaves that caressed her with its thumbs and saw the parting of his lips that revealed in her trance the blooming of a single, red-violet globe amaranth.

It was breathtaking. The sharp, curved pattern of its leaves and the intensity of its color almost made her stretch an arm to reach out and cup it on her fingertips. She was so caught up in its elegance that she didn't notice her lover bend down and close his eyes, abruptly removing the image in her mind and replacing it with the feel of his lips on hers.

Even through the paint, the kiss was as soft as its petals and the feeling transcended to thoughts of new, growth and freshness. It was a kiss unlike no other. The roundness of her cheeks burned and tingled from the brewing pit in her stomach. Her eyelids filled with flashes of cream violets and soft lights, blended and zoomed out until only shapes and colors remained in its simplicity. The hold around his waist was the only anchor that prevented her from submersing in its fantasy.

Kurloz pressed deeper; Meulin inhaled the ensnaring scent of spearmint and the tartness of its herb with the sense of its crumbling sheets of white.

When he removed his lips, so did the tangibility of his medium. He slid his hands down and moved them away which left emptiness in its place. She batted her eyes open to see a hint of humility on his face.

The illusion was gone and only the clarity of his presence remained.

"…You wanna take a nap?"

She raised and lowered her head, speechless from the dreamy phenomenon. He leaned to his right, took possession of the violet throw on top of the cushion, moved over to sit on the edge of the couch, forced his shoes off with his feet and waited for her to join. Meulin just stood above him, still unsure of what took place.

The third time she uttered that expression was nothing short of stunning.

They both napped together for hours. Meulin snuggled on top of Kurloz's frame, head barely in view under the warm polyester with pointed candy corn ears sticking out. Her body warmth alone kept him satisfied under the conditions of the weather and the automatic heat that turned off. With a sharp inhale to her nose, Meulin lifted her head and allowed her sight to adjust, only to see that Kurloz's own head was lifted and was captivated by the rain on his window.

They said nothing for a time. She lifted one arm to twist the curls of his hair with her index finger and he stayed lost in thought.

"Kurloz?"

He yawned and looked down to her.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me why you don't like your face."

He gazed with little emotion and then looked back up to the integrated, watery mess on the glass. The drips made reflected flashes of light on the candle's glass on top of the windowsill. She lifted her torso up with her arms so that she could read his lips while he slithered his hands around her waist.

"…It reminds me of a lot of shit I didn't like about myself; my past, my broken obligations to my brother, my unstable childhood, all that. I was still a youth in my mind when I became a Juggalo and began to use the paint as a 'mask'. It was just something that comforted me, and still does. I didn't deal with shit too well back then and it's still hard for me to deal with some of it. Whenever I get the chance to actually remove it and stare into my face I just feel…empty. Or maybe filled with darkness, I don't know which one I hate more."

She sniffed from her fading sickness, laid her chin on his shoulder and played with a stray curl behind his ear.

"I still think you're beautiful."

He tilted his head away but she could see the lift in his cheek that implied a soft smile. The light made the flush on the tip of his ear prominent. It was a soft, muddy red and she couldn't help but indulge in his modesty before kissing it.

She barely pulled away and her chest burned with a warm ambition.

"I love you."

The breath from her lips was so gentle she hindered the thought of its actuality. But the warm hands on her back crossed over and squeezed her closer before he leaned in so he could deliver the same physical stroke of skin against her neck.

Her eyes shut and her lips parted. Air violated her lungs and nearly made her weep at the image before her eyelids. Sprouts of globe amaranths filed systematically in a single column, joined with its archetype in the infinite vast of milky frost. The navy sky lightened into a Maya blue, reflecting its powdery complexion and from beyond a dash of emerald and a hint of gold.

His arms moved away for his hands to firmly grip the sides of her waist. A shaky sigh left her lips at the tender rise of his chest and the vulnerable emotions within that surrounded her entity and transformed her reverie. A seemingly glimmer of hope that wanted to shine in the distance slowly blended into the thin moat of water that circled the very edge of his season. Her hands scrambled to clutch his shoulders, the visual replica of his actions too overwhelming for her very eyes.

"Kur...loz…!"

He was aware of the void of tone in her voice but his grip never lessened and his lips never stirred. He kept her there while her senses drowned in his waters and shook with the smoldering bond of his passion.

One day, he would say it, she was sure of it. But for now, these actions would be more than enough.

The righteous Mage of Heart effectively understood the power of her words.

It was a particularly bright evening on a Saturday. Meulin lied on her stomach on top of her lily pad comforter, faced her laptop and tapped away to her mother on Bubblr. Her legs, covered with black leggings swayed back and forth along with her flower print socks. In a fit of nervousness, she tugged at the puffy sleeves of her limp, yellow sweater and bit by bit confessed her affair with the older Juggalo. Her mother naturally became concerned, especially since if said older Juggalo ever 'broke in and stole everything inside' she wouldn't be able to hear a sound. Meulin 'lol'd that comment off and placated her mother's quick passing judgments with the assurance she knew him since September and that her friends knew him for years more.

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:27 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Oh, okay! Well, they must have been a great influence then. ;D

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:27 PM] MEUMEU to MOMMY DEAREST: (=^・^=) Somewhat!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:27 PM] MEUMEU to MOMMY DEAREST: (=｀ω'=) T33 h33!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:28 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Don't be shy then!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:28 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Tell me everything. Who's this mystery man I'll have to give a stern talking to when I come back home?

Meulin snickered. Mother wouldn't be back until May, a month shy of her high school graduation in late June. She wondered if she should explain what happened last Sunday. Her body clock chimed early that morning so instead of staying in bed, she showered, dressed and in a friendly albeit impulsive move, pounced on Kurloz's frame in bed. She giggled at his unexpected crankiness and whined that the weather was perfect for exposing light on their poor, sheltered skin.

She wasn't prepared to be chased all around the house in an attempted tickle-fest and was playfully warned not to disturb his sleep unless she wanted to face the 'consequences', that being laughter. Eventually he made breakfast and accompanied her outside where they walked together for the first time. She pointed out the small berries on the trees that were ripe for eating and idly sat on the swings in Beforus Park, enjoying the feel of the midday sun.

Or maybe it should be the following Monday when she came over to Aranea's apartment and enjoyed mouth-dropping on birthday plans for Meenah with Horuss and Latula. The Pisces was, of course, present and was excited to phone in all her 'fronds', giving each of them personal invitations to her house party which wouldn't be until next week.

Meenah, in-between calls, took a swig of water from a plastic bottle just when Meulin replied to an innocent question regarding her weekend activities.

"EEEE! It was so much FUN! I hung out with Kurzorz fur the most part and can you believe we actually went to the movies fur the first time!?"

Said water was spat out all across the carpet, lickety-split and she squeezed every bit of 'glorious deets' out of the poor cat girl. She and Kurloz did plan to find some sort of movies to watch in the living room but since none were coming on, she had complained in jest. Little did she know that the persuasion from him to hop in his car and drive around until they reached the mall made her realize that he took it seriously. He had pulled an impromptu theater date and she got to choose, so she picked a now regrettable romantic comedy. Meulin Leijon, self-proclaimed romance extraordinaire wasn't even compelled to watch the two, goofy main characters sing their way together but it didn't spoil Kurloz's mood of throwing popcorn kernels and snickering in the dark at the ridiculous plot. He turned it into a good time and they both laughed about it later, hoping to plan their movies better next time.

Horuss approved at the small tale and lifted his previous sentiment of him. The 'high bloods' gawked at Meulin like she fell from a crack in the sky. Latula only high-fived in celebration, which her poor hand still welted from. It was one of the hardest slaps she's experienced in her life.

Or maybe it should be Thursday when he had actually graced all of them, plus Horuss with his grand presence? Now that was a day to mark down in electrifying frond-ship history.

Around four fifty in the evening, Meenah Peixes made the grave mistake of running her big mouth.

Meulin went over to Kurloz's home directly after school because Meenah wanted to gather her closest 'fronds' together to discuss evening 'shellibration' presents. Since her birthday was on a weekday, she was courteous to understand not everyone could get hammered and skip work so any contribution to her cause was to be appreciated. With lots of kisses and even more persuasion, Meulin convinced her hard-working promotion manager who was glued to the laptop that taking the rest of the day off would not only relax his mind and inspire him to create with more clarity but he would be able to hang out with everyone in one place at the will of their mutual friend.

Kurloz, at the last minute, decided that it was a good idea and offered to drive them over to the open-couple's home.

It was an odd star polygon shape they made around the small, wooden table but they did what they could for lip-reading sake. Aranea sat behind the television, followed by Meenah, then Horuss who flipped through channels and waited for the five o' clock news, then came Meulin and finally Kurloz.

Meulin barely paid any attention to her paramour as she immersed herself in borderline taboo conversation that Kurloz deemed 'inappropriate' after they left. The Pisces's urban lingo combined with scandalous memories made her hold her hand on her lips.

"…I bait the eel didn't tail you aboat the time we went to Club Amalgam, sat on couches, got drunk and did nofin but stare at booty the entire time. Oh, I learned a few preferences that day."

"Really!?"

"Oh yes, honey. Buoy gave the phrase 'run game but don't speak' a whole new meanin. I remember his bro told me that one day and shore enough I had to learn that the hard way. I don't know why ass is common ground for us, but it just is."

"'Cause a certain water bitch wouldn't get off my motherfuckin' jock…"

Aranea had to bat her eyes multiple times, not exactly comprehending what she heard. It sounded like mutter in the room, but it couldn't have been. Horuss must be testing some sort of voice modifying device. Sure enough, his goggles were glued to the television.

She stared at Meulin for some sort of confirmation but quickly remembered that she wasn't paying anyone else a lick of attention. So she brushed it off and looked back to Meenah-

"You wanna run that by me again, juggahoe?"

Meenah's lips stiffened. Her arms were folded and eyes were slit at the man who did the same and rolled his eyes.

"You heard me, hood rat. You thought you were doing me such a got-damn fantastic favor of bringing me all those bad bitches when I was doin' just fine all on my own. And then when you knew I was fuckin' 'em, it was like I owed you some sort of big debt or favor in return. Then, when I didn't give you what you wanted, you turned right back around and snagged them the hell away. Now what kind of motherfuckin' game is that?"

The poor cerulean fanatic eye's widened, looking straight at Meulin to which she stared in the same manner. As soon as they wordlessly reassured themselves that they weren't bat shit insane, they fixed their gazes back to the abnormally calm party 'gill'.

"Makara, if yo 'silent game' was half as good as yo dick game, you might have kept them all. Don't blame me just cause I changed my dam mind! And how is gettin some smoke and drank unreasonable requests? Cod, this goes right back to your intolerable big brother complex! I even offered to PAY you to get it for me but oh no, keep yourshelf healthy and sober to make it through the school days says the basshole who snuck me in the first shuckin place! You'll never change, will you!?"

"Bitch, I did that shit out of the kindness of my heart and you STILL the ungrateful little snob I semi-raised."

"Hey, FUCK YOU okay!? You reely want to know why I did you like that!?"

"Yes, yes I would like to know why you did me like that!"

Meenah paused. The silence in the room couldn't be more obvious in Meulin's head. Aranea and even Horuss at least had the weekly weather to alleviate the focused tension.

The indignant teen stared him down and up, smirked and replied.

"…cause I could."

Kurloz stroked the top of his molars with his tongue.

"You an asshole."

"No duh! You know these juicy, soft and shrimply irresistible lips of mine? Yeah, they were usually the reason why they chose me over you. Sorry, mime-face."

"You ain't sorry. In fact, I'm sure that was the case when that Puerto Rican puked twice on your favorite gold boots while I ran off with the crazy fine Venezuelan."

"That's cause you were pumpin drinks inside her stomach-"

Meenah slapped the table with flat hands.

"-BEHIND MY BACK!"

Kurloz imitated her gesture.

"BECAUSE YOU DESERVED THAT SHIT!"

"NO I DIDN'T"

"YES YO ASS DID!"

"Um." Aranea tried to interject.

"NUH-UH!"

"YEAH-HUH!"

"MY WICKED WORD OVER YOURS!"

"FUCK YOU!"

"Hello!"

Both Meenah and Kurloz whipped their head and replied in unison.

"WHAT!?"

"Uh…Meenah, you knew he could speak this whole time?"

"YES!"

"…Okay!"

Aranea promptly raised herself from her seat, scampered between the huddled soul-mates on the floor and equally watched the pseudo-disaster that took place inside her shared home. Meulin knew Kurloz had a healthy sex life before she came but for it to be put in such a vulgar perspective was a good enough reason why he semi-averted the subject whenever she brought it up.

"CLAM UP, FOOL! DON'T CARP TO SERK THAT WAY 'FORE I SNAP ON YOU!"

"Oh, YOUR Serk, huh?"

Meenah cleared her throat, face as red as a canned berry juice.

"YES, whale…I um…I HAVE NOFIN TO SAY TO YOU!"

Kurloz threw his head back and laughed harshly. Meenah only scrunched her face and folded her arms before a few snickers sneaked from her puffy lips. Aranea stared wide-eyed, the current image of them both shattered while Meulin blinked in dumbfoundment. First, he actually came over, then he actually moved his fucking lips and now he was bantering with someone who seemed like a little sister figure? Horuss didn't quite know how to assess the situation and sweated like a pig in July. Aranea pointed at them and kept gaping while Meenah looked over and smacked her teeth.

"Clammit, stop oglin us like we're a pair of hammer fish! Yes, he has a voice. Yes his lips can move, so shuckin what."

The rest of the evening consisted of Meenah begrudgingly explaining Kurloz's babysitting days to a very inquisitive Aranea while Kurloz kept quiet the rest of the night and was amused at the awkwardness. Meanwhile, Meulin had to reassure Horuss that this wasn't what he was like when they were together. The night ended on a light note about him most likely bringing in a few bottle for her to sneak at her weekend party beforehand.

…While all of them were acceptable and rather amusing examples for friends, none were appropriate for the person that was to scrutinize his every move and word later on, so instead Meulin fawned over the stitched gifts, the cooking, the hang outs, show marathons, his humor, charm and loving devotion.

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:29 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: All of that seems very pleasant!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:29 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: I'm sure he'll be quite the gentleman when I meet him. How old is he?

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:30 PM] MEUMEU to MOMMY DEAREST: (=`ω´=) 25!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:30 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: …

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:32 PM] MEUMEU to MOMMY DEAREST: (^・o・^) Mommy?

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:32 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Break it off.

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:32 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Immediately.

Meulin convinced herself that she would warm up to him as soon as they were face to face. Mother was a lot like her; protective of the ones she loved and wanted to experience people before really deducing conclusions. But since she couldn't be there right away to do so, she was just as protective as ever and for good reason. Meulin laughed off the comment anyway and didn't bother to bring him up for the duration of their chat. A good distraction was the mention of Meenah's evening birthday get-together.

It would be especially fun for Meulin since Kurloz agreed to accompany her and because they would hang out later on.

For now, they wrapped up their weekly, long chat with plenty e-hugs, e-kisses, emoticons and goodbyes. She messed around the internet for a while before deciding to take a cat nap. She closed her laptop, sat it neatly on the dresser by her clock and snuggled on top of the sheets, the huge sweater cover enough.

Meulin could feel happiness pollenate in the air as well as something else, something inevitable and even promising.

It was the season of rebirth.

Meenah Peixes's get-together of tight-net fronds on a Tuesday evening was quite the festive occasion.

The entire house was decorated in pastel streamers, balloons, cutlery and napkins in the kitchen. There was even a homemade, spray-painted, golden tiara with hot-glued craft jewels courtesy of Aranea. Everyone, at some point or another, made it in the collective time they could join. First were Cronus and Kankri, who walked from school to give Meenah her present in the shape of a treasure chest from them both. Inside, were a few unused trinkets from the Greaser's jewelry supply, unneeded to authenticate his modest, middle-class life and two expired coupons to Olive Garden.

It was then that Meenah decided to play the 'Drink a shot every time you get a semi-shitty gift' game.

Aranea sighed and thanked them in her behalf, unable to chastise the birthday gill as she promised earlier in the day to give her leeway to do any selfish thing she pleased. Kankri kept commending them about how humble and trigger-free their festivities were and even she couldn't resist one shot or two if she were to maintain her upbeat attitude around them.

Next were Rufioh, Horuss and miraculously, Damara. Apparently, each of them had patched things up with each other long ago and used that positive attitude to come around in the midst of commemoration. It was somewhat appreciated from both fashionistas but that didn't mean they avoided the kitchen with all their might when the schoolgirl kept offering explicit boob-jobs in her native tongue to the up-and-coming engineer. Horuss could only puzzle at the thick accent the whole time while Rufioh gave Meenah their present of a welded scrap metal whale with a tuxedo and top hat.

Drink a shot every time you get a semi-shitty gift: 2

Porrim came briefly to give her birthday kisses and blessings. After scolding Kankri about not wearing his sweater in such cool weather she gave Meenah a pink, knit sweater in jest…

Drink a shot every time you get a semi-shitty gift: 3

…but then surprised her with mustard-colored, sparkly boots and silver chains on the ankles. They were torn from the box and worn immediately, the birthday gill opting to never take them off even after the weekend club party where more appropriate, adult-themed ceremonies would initiate.

Next were the game bros, Latula and Mituna. They actually brought another un-semi-shitty gift; it was a genuine Nintendo 64 with a couple of popular name brand games for its time. Apparently, both were trying for a few months on eBay to grab it and had success at the last minute.

As soon as Meulin and Kurloz came, however, Mituna had clung to his best friend like there was no tomorrow. Kurloz eagerly returned the physical act of companionship, offering a smoke to ease Mituna's troubled, twitchy mind while Meulin gave her two bottles of New Amsterdam Vodka and a special 24 carat gold chain with a Pisces symbol in the center.

In the end, Aranea made everyone sing happy birthday while she brought out a banana cake with an illustration of Meenah as whale hunter on top of a whale, drawn with chocolate frosting. It was the first time everyone came together and brought with them, even for one day, an impression of togetherness and collective joy. After the cake settled in, the birthday gill got queasy from the forgotten mixture of alcohol.

Drink a shot every time you get a semi-shitty gift: -3

The evening shenanigans ceased and Meenah recovered quickly from her curt sickness. Each person hugged everyone else, said their goodbyes and met with their respective partners outside the home. Kurloz was to drop Meulin off at her apartment before she offered to share an evening inside for once. In the giving spirit, he had allowed himself to venture inside and dropped off his piece of wrapped banana cake along with Meulin's in the fridge. As soon as they both petted a certain fluff ball of joy, the feline enthusiast decided it was finally time for her love to experience her bedroom. They headed upstairs and she was unaware of his silent curiosity once she opened the door and turned on the light.

Her bed was on the opposite wall of the doorway with a huge window in the center. Its lime green drapes were held apart by two cream ribbons, revealing closed blinds. The small desk that held her laptop and clock was beside the cherry wood headboard. The off-white walls contained small doodles of all colors and sizes, from her animal-themed friends to a double-mouthed, white cat that leaped gracefully around like some sort of cave painting. There was a little girl riding on top with short hair which Kurloz assumed was Meulin when she was younger. He glanced to his right to see a matching, cherry wood dresser which also acted for a work desk. It was cluttered with art supplies. High above, was a fabulously large shipping poster. While crudely drawn, up close it was organized with various names, fiction and non-fiction and between each pair of names were hearts, question marks and little spades which indicated 'a sunken ship'.

To him, it was incredibly winsome.

Meulin was beside her dresser drawer and tugged out an extra long, navy tee shirt which she had 'borrowed' from him. In reality, she had slept in it one time in his bed and forgot to bring it back. She didn't bother to go out of her bedroom to change so he decided to sit on her bed, remove his black tennis shoes and lie on the warm bedding. After a moment, she curled beside him and rested her head on his black short sleeve and tangled her bare legs around his purple cargo pants. He massaged her back with one hand behind her back and placed the other behind his head.

At the last minute, she set her alarm so that they could wake from their nap before it became too late in the night. They said little and enjoyed the presence of one another until they fell to a deep slumber at the whim of the sand man above.

Kurloz Makara was stoic and cemented on top of a never-ending circumference of frozen water particles.

It was dark, he knew that much. There was no life to discern or universe to perceive. The eternal chalk white before him lit up plainly, like it defied all laws of light and reflection; more darkness than light and less light than darkness.

He would have these dreams now and then. Some sort of hardened seat, like the ones under his desk elevated him so he could hunch over and put his elbows on his knees. There was nothing to feel, or hear, or taste or even touch. This reproduction was too recognizable from all the other and seen too many times in various dreams, so there was a happenstance where he could spot some sort of anomaly, like right now.

The column of globe amaranths stood erected on the far horizon of nothing, still and unorthodox.

In his heart, he felt a pressure of uncertainty, a tip in his balance like he was always on the edge of falling off a deep cliff and regaining his balance. The existence of them in his desolate land sparked a feeling of incredulousness inside. He furrowed his brows at them like they were foreign objects to be scrutinized and if taken off his sight for one moment, they could move.

He stared for a long while, them innocuously unaware of their placement like a rift in space or a placement of something that shouldn't be. Afterwards, he began to feel weak and decided that it wasn't worth trying to remove the delusion with his eyes. Both hands pressed and rubbed his bare cheeks, then his forehead and finally his whole face, holding it there while he closed his eyes. It was inconclusive, obscure and no resolution of the symbolism could come of it.

That is, until he removed his hands and slowly opened his eyes again.

Meulin Leijon.

It was the first recognizable name that popped into his head and it was the first person in his land that he observed. It wasn't his now astoundingly small island of ivory, or the wooden boat dock she stood on top of that was connected to it. It wasn't the resplendent body of water that made sounds of choppy waves and suddenly smelled of sea spray. It wasn't the prismatic sky, its brilliance resembling that of dawn with blended turquoise, wine and coral with silver lining on the clouds. It certainly wasn't the sudden mildness of frost on his feet and the warmth everywhere else inside his body.

She held her look of tenderness, one he never really saw before, even far away as they were. He observed her outfit and it refreshed his memory back to the very moment in which she graced him with her presence after his birthday. It was the outfit where he regarded her most angelic; A green and white kitten sweater with an ashy, grey skirt and white stocking with green stripes at the top. He never got to see what she wore on her feet and instead of her hair wrapped in blue ribbon, it was replaced with gold and green ribbons in spirals, similar to the ones on his present.

He remembered that nausea, that sense of scattered emotions he couldn't decipher from her that morning but with the neutral, almost ghostly look she gave him now, he could clearly pinpoint one.

And that was determination.

One shoeless, slender foot moved in front of the other in a languid pace, eyes never leaving his face. They stepped on each darkened board of wood, closer and closer until she lifted her leg to step on the bonded frost he was confined to. His lungs filled with air in distress, not wanting her limbs to be encased in coldness but it extraordinarily did no such thing. She seemed to step on top of it as if it were stone and advanced closer like a seraphic figure to his unworthy frame. He didn't question any of it, logic a mere shadow in his mind.

With each step closer and each lift of her frame to the top of the sanctuary, his heart clutched in anxiousness and his thoughts were at a loss for what he should do or say. The feeling of biting glacial cold under his feet was no more and the warmth that pervaded evolved into a burning heat. His back straightened, his breath left his frame…

…And she pounced him.

The action was quite typical, almost comforting, but in this sacred moment it was considered shocking. Her arms encircled his neck and he felt the force of her weight tilt him backwards and send his body in a falling motion. He shut his eyes and braced for the being that would strain him above and the severe feel of soft ice that would numb him below.

Neither came.

He landed with a small 'thud' and it took him a moment to realize that the coolness he felt under his skin was not that of his brisk isle but that of solid, earthly ground. He figured the feather light feeling of her on top of him was a normalcy, considering his dream state, and opened one eye only to see that she was nowhere near his body. But what was, and what surrounded him were tall stalks of globe amaranths in various shades of saturated red-violet. It was just him, the flowers, the sky and the heat that settled into his chest like a bird to a nest.

Kurloz regarded the closeness of the clusters of Gomphrena as still objects of extraneous origin. They still gave him a paralyzing sense of insecurity and unable to handle their mystifying height, he huddled his legs together, pushed his body up with his arms and rose above them.

The metamorphosis of his land was unaltered for now and his source of warmth, blind to reality, unconsciously called to him, turned him around and let him witness the bliss of his lover whirl and prance thoughtfully around his small island of novelty. Unseen creatures step-sided and rolled beneath the stalks of verdure and she hastily bent down to pick one up in her gentle hold.

A stray tabby was put in a cradle position and its salmon pink paws swatted playfully at Meulin's finger when she began to scratch its fuzzy chest. Without looking, she gravitated to beat of his heart; one brown tainted, stocking-covered foot after another. He also regarded the feline's aurora with its perplexing genesis. Meulin looked up to the sky, then back at Kurloz with her virtuous smile.

He could do nothing but stare cautiously in return as she put the youthful creature down on the ground. A hand was placed on his arm, giving it goose bumps as she pulled him down once again on the patch of russet brown soil, she laying on his side with her feather-light touch.

A deep pulse seemed to thump beneath his terrain and it matched his very own. It created a harmony within his warmth, he oblivious to the sheer preposterousness of it. The visible heaven's movements were similar to the northern lights. Its polychrome danced in an endless rhythm of light and alteration.

Meulin's hand stretched above his sight, thin fingers fanned out and moved in a way that resembled finger painting. It swirled and united at her bidding as she waited for the ultimate transformation to commence before her pious devotee.

He could suddenly see her finger point towards a rift in space, stiff from immense energy. His eyes were transfixed on the shimmering incandescence within his pitch dark cosmos, expanding into a rounded shape.

And from within did a righteous blessing emerge from the coils.

His own divine miracle.

It was a simple sailboat. The two-dimensional design resembled that of a crude drawing made of by a small child. Each pair of Bermuda sails were colored in a deep viridian green while the hull itself a rich lavender. His stomach clenched and his body gave way for a state of deep-rooted catharsis. It was the most whimsical thing Kurloz had ever seen in his entire life. His throat suddenly dried and his right hand scraped deep into the earth beneath. The vigorous, celestial winds expanded the fullness of its model, beginning its cast off below the never-ending depth of moons and stars and crossing over to the now multi-shaded sky of lilacs, plums, indigos and wisterias. And just like that, while it was unhurried and incognizant of its own earth and sea, Kurloz had been hit with everything and nothing all at once. He felt emotions and saw memories that had not entered his conscious in years and he did something he thought he would never do again.

While the white v shape of clouds it left behind was the equivalent of the parting of still waters in the sea and as it ever so slowly diminished above the horizon where there wasn't a single sun to be found, Kurloz opened his mouth but no words ever came out. The tears fell from his eyes, one by one, and formed a renewed sense of youth. They were not out of sadness but of inevitable timing. He chuckled humorlessly as he realized the sequences were united with one another; his deep release and change of nature the undoing of a sun that had never been created in his universe.

Meulin raised herself up with her arms, sat upright and got a better view of the produced vessel that trailed the violet sky in a fixed, linear pace. She breathed in the beauty of reincarnation and turned to her lover, his face obscured by the deep shadows of dusk. She smiled and cupped his now bare face with her hands to which she, for the first time, regarded him with a deep sadness.

"Kurloz…!"

And as he recalled that vast of darkness more than light, as he sat there in his destitute, he saw his amaranths in a different way. They grew not in a light that could be seen by internal stimuli but one that could never be seen within his consciousness. It made miracles, melted a lifetime of nothingness and brought out his medium's transfiguration. It could not be seen because where he looked could not bring it to him.

So instead, she walked to him herself. He now knew why he never saw the sun, because all this time he had her in his arms.

Meulin lied back down again, this time atop his cringing frame, the bridge of her nose forced against the bottom of his chin. She clutched the sides of his shoulders as he brought his own hands to his face; the fears and anxieties, the lies and deceptions, the deep sorrows and deaths melting away like an endless winter. She only smiled and made his pleasant agony worse.

His body writhed from heat and light, blazing from the words he so desperately wanted to hear over and over again for the rest of his life.

'I love you, Kurloz.'

'Kurloz, I love you.'

'I love you...'

'…I love you...'

'…I love you.'

Meulin opened her eyelids.

Having indulged in a soothing rest, her sight was crystal clear. They observed the glowing series of mahogany and sienna on the bare ceiling that reflected from her transparent lamp shade on the night stand. She was going to turn it off after she got comfortable and maybe that's where she went wrong. It made the white, geometric shade above look more like a molasses crystal.

She sure didn't fall asleep in this position.

Her head turned to the right and squinted at the neon lights on her alarm clock. It was now nine forty eight p.m and the harsh buzz would go off in more or less twelve minutes. One hand reached over and pressed the tiny, black button so it would disable. Not bothering to bring her arm back, she turned the opposite way and faced loops of hair. From the distribution of warm body heat and weight, she could deduce that Kurloz's head lied on her chest, the same way she started to rest earlier. His right arm was tucked at his side while his left straightened out on her stomach and his wrist limped across the edge of the bed. Her legs were bent over his thighs so her toes barely touched the bedding.

There was a faint but steady heartbeat that comforted her side and her right hand began to twist the back of his curls. It somewhat calmed all her wakeful bodily functions but her stomach and when it grumbled from hunger she cringed, not knowing how loud it sounded. It was then decided that heading downstairs for some sort of snack was best.

But before that happened, she idly hoped he was having enjoyable dreams. She slept so good that there was no dream to remember and normally their tossing and turning would prevent her from doing so.

She found some sort of slick way to move his arm, rotate her legs and lift his head so she could settle her feet on the ground, minding the cat bed on the corner. She didn't expect for him to stretch and face the wall with arms folded above his head, never opening his eyes. It was a lovable trait that he didn't like to face the light when he was still tired or there would be no chance of falling asleep again. Without another advance to him, she bent down and put her arm under the transparent lamp shade, twisted the small knob, plunged the room in navy darkness and made her way downstairs with learned sense of touch. Maybe when she came back, he would be under the covers.

A small chill crept up her legs while she descended to the first floor, the natural lighting from the moon outside guiding her way down the lower half of the stairs. When she turned on the kitchen light, she lifted her heels and walked on the balls of the feet, the tiles smooth and frigid in contrast to the soft, beige carpet. Opening the fridge, she found a fresh orange beside some bottled water, grabbed it and headed over to the black stool so she could sit in front of the granite countertop.

Her slender hands got to work, using her sharpened nails to rip off each tiny piece of the outer peel and sprays of juice would fly like a quick water hose. This method was preferred over simply cutting with a knife because she could smell lingers of citrus on her fingertips. When she did peel the last white stem, pulled the fruit open in the center and savored the first bite, Kurloz had emerged from the corner with head low, hand ruffling his hair and eyes on the microwave clock.

Ten o' two p.m.

"Well, good evening sleepy-zorz!"

She put down her orange slice and turned her body so that it faced the weary person that moved closer to her. Kurloz impulsively buried his head between her neck and shoulder while his arms slipped around her upper waist. Meulin didn't bother to ask what the occasion was, only to return the action, close her eyes and cherish the lovely warmth that emanated.

The hug lasted for only a moment before he leaned his neck back, caressing his cheek with her own and locking their lips in a chaste, citrus-tasting kiss. The corners of hers tugged into a smile and hoped the fresh smell of fruit would excite his spirits. There was no vivid depiction of his actions to grace the inside of her lids and only the prickling heat from the now kept his affection continual. After what seemed like a long-standing amount of time, he released the dawdling affection and she beamed up at him while his forehead settled on hers. It was assumed that he was still drowsy from the nap because his eyes were still lidded when a hint of a smile ultimately emerging on his face.

"Come over."

"Huh?"

He grinned at the last-minute attempt to read his lips, leaned back and tried again.

"Come over next weekend."

"Okay!"

She looked over to her right, picked up the still uneaten orange slice and paid him attention once more.

"Be prepared."

She cocked her head, sticking a slice in her mouth and muffling her voice.

"Fur what…?"

All he did was kiss her forehead, pick up the other slice of orange and headed towards her front door.

"Hey!"

Kurloz walked backwards to her amusement and unlocked the door.

"What am I preparing fur? Come back here, silly, don't furget your cake slice!"

"Now you really have to come over. Don't eat it 'neither."

She puffed her cheeks while he tore a slice of orange with his teeth before chewing.

"You owe me an orange slice."

"Aight."

He widened the door before he winked, strayed out of her sight and closed it. Meulin slipped from her warm seat on the stool, tip-toed across the tile and walked normally on the carpet before she locked the plywood door behind him. Knowing him, there would be a text sooner or later between then and when they would meet with more details.

She placed her hand on the golden knob and smiled. Even if his touch did remain for a second the electric feeling still lasted, just like his impeccable kiss.

The small heartbeat she always felt, in the distance of her mind, pulsed truthfully and with a fierce instinct beyond her bathroom mirror.

Dimly lit bulbs in a single file on top of it, lit the surrounding walls in dark lavenders and indigos, only leaving the rest of the space in a powdery blue-gray and Meulin to be encased in its virgin light. Her right hand spread out on the cool, glass skin of her doppelganger and reminisced dark winter nights and hot summer days. All her past memories traversed her mind like a sweet melody that was consumed by wanderlust. Her perspective changed so much that all the innocence mistakes and uncertainties between could now be seen as mature learning curves.

Everything was now beyond her years but within the looking glass where her twin resided, she knew the same happy-go-lucky cat girl was still there and she had to be for the sake of honor.

Meulin tilted her head in curiosity, inspected the shimmering, cream eye make-up and peach flavored lip balm that moistened her salmon pink lips. It was put on long after her awaited bath with lamiaceae salt, liquid chamomile soap and red berry shampoo. Her hair expanded from air-drying while she massaged it to an acceptable size and her nude frame still held little beads of stress-relieving water. Her hand moved away from her ghostly reflection and rested beside her.

At a second thought, the hand caressed the small, faded scar beside her curvy hipbone down to her inner thigh. That, along with the many drawings on her walls, the child dolls packed away in various closets, the old VHS tapes of roleplaying and even the loss of her hearing were the only reminders that the haunting creation before her had been alive.

It was still something she wasn't comfortable with, not with friends, not with family, or even her own mother. She just didn't feel worthy to go back and retrospect into her subconscious but if she were here now, looking straight at her in this moment then maybe she would be proud that she had briefly done so.

It was a long battle, the storing and locking away of the deceased, especially since she still felt, in the end, that it was her fault. But maybe that image could see the self-worth in her eyes and the love and acceptance she grew to carry within. Maybe she could understand that it was the influence of one similar to her, one that she vowed to heal and protect with all her might and if they could see the beauty inside themself, it would give her the grand courage to do the same.

And did she feel worthy.

Kurloz Makara had, whether he realized it or not, given her the task of showing him the sliver of love he deserves and she welcomed the task with open arms and strong promises, strong as a chain on a steel link. It was each and every day that she truly discovered her curing abilities and felt important, even vital. The mission was now deep-rooted and could never be dug up again as it already seeped through her earth and nestled safely within her core. There were times when she cried not just for him but for herself because the parallels were just too protrusive. He had someone to live for, to care for, to provide and to strive to be a better person.

She didn't think it would happen to her in the shadows of her secret darkness.

The bathroom and bedroom door was wide open and she stepped through each to look all around the juvenile drawing that was illustrated on her walls. It would be appropriate for her age to paint over them but it told a timeless story, like an old cave painting and only she knew the tale. As much as she blocked it out of her mind, the act of erasing them permanently in the physical world was something she could never bring herself to do and it only confirmed to her family and counselor that she was human and that she felt something between those events, even if she did pretend it never happened afterwards.

But it didn't matter. All that mattered now was that she was healing. She was changing and at that time, when there was blood and sweat and broken glass which way, it seemed impossible.

Meulin stood before the laid out clothes on her bedspread, picked up a spray bottle and distributed her favorite lavender and chamomile scent around. She set it back down and slipped on her scarlet panties and matching bra, each with a little pink bow in the center. Then a white, crinkled button-up dress shirt with a green, argyle sweater vest, a tan skirt and bronze tights. She glanced over to her dresser by the closet, walked up and opened the first drawer.

She carefully picked up the small, silver chain with the heart-shaped diamond that loosely hung from it. Her brown-tinted colored nails opened the crab claw and linked it around her neck, adjusting it on her sternum between her white collars.

Mog sauntered inside the doorway, tail swishing in content. Meulin bent down to pick her up when she walked over and sat on the bed. She cooed small phrases of affection and pecked the white furs on her small face before she sat Mog down beside her. The fluffy cat began to lick her fur with her long tongue while Meulin entered her feet inside her newly shined dress shoes and leaned forward to fasten the line of leather over the top. Last, was the black band that donned her homemade candy corn ears and the fuzzy, blue tail. It was just like Kurloz when he changed himself for his brother. She kept her roleplaying habits alive by a rhythmic force, a faint intuition that enforced the adolescent activity to continue.

Meulin hoped that beyond the mirror, Nepeta knew her heart hasn't changed.

She stood, picked up and carefully placed the band atop her bulk of hair, linked her tail onto her skirt and put on her prepped backpack filled with clothes, jacket, drawing materials and other miscellaneous things. Her keys and handheld stayed in her hand and she kissed her beloved pet on top of her head. Kurloz sent her a text around five and asked if she wanted a ride but she declined, wishing to enjoy the evening walk.

The breeze was stale and brisk but it comforted the heat that left her smooth legs. Each step she took over a stray leaf or a broken twig was a step of certainty, of purpose, with stride and a will to live inside a mindset of intrepidity. The conforming machine of society was left behind along with its dusk that glint its last ray of light. It left cool layers of denim, Prussian and ultramarine blues that seemed like it would rise above an abandoned country side. She felt worthy, she felt love and above all she felt the rank of duty that allowed her to course their relationship into the colorful oceans of ardor and blinding, unprecedented euphoria.

She let out a breath from the nippy air and balled her hands into fists. There would be an island waiting for them to discover and that they could call home but little did she know, he already explored it.

Kurloz sparked one up before Meulin even arrived.

The texts she received minutes before she even arrived in front of his door instructed her to walk inside and turn the second lock behind her. It seemed like an odd request, considering that he always greeted her at the doorway but maybe this was part of the changes she had to 'prepare' for. The rusted knob was chilled inside her grasp as she turned and was faced not by his presence but that of the dimmed kitchen light under the stove vent. She did as instructed, removed her chilly dress shoes from her feet and inhaled the familiar scent of cotton before she headed downstairs.

Flickering lights of deep wines and pale periwinkles were the first thing to catch her eye in the distance. His bedroom door was wide open, letting the colors pave the way down the bottom of the stairs. She had to hold on to the wooden railing as the sheer nylon of her tights made it difficult to step down on the hardwood. As soon as her foot touched concrete she peeked around the doorframe, leaned her body on the right side of the casing and let a small smile grace her lips.

Kurloz moved most of the iridescent candles from the windowsill in the living room and scattered them around his room; most were in a crooked line on the floor and surrounded the side of his black comforter, two were on his nightstand and only one on the corner of the work desk. They all created a harmonious spectrum of ruby, sea blues and nightfall greens around his walls that were vacant of posters.

He sighed, rolls of smoke escaping his lungs and nose as he lied flat on his fresh bedspread. One candle was held high above his head and his right hand rotated it like he inspected a precious, expensive jewel. The left kept his rolled blunt atop the glass ashtray, being mindful of the remains. Her cheeks flushed a gentle vermillion as he wore nothing but the deep mauve boxers on his hips with one leg bent and foot firmly planted on the spread.

Meulin had forgotten all about his text and gathered up the courage to walk towards his frame, not wanting to startle him but he only turned his head and tugged his lips languidly in her company.

Her voice came out soft, admiring the moving candle light around her peripheral.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm on an island."

She chortled and speculated how high he must be to mouth such a statement.

"Really?"

"Yep, see, all this here-"

He guided the hand that held the candle in an arc across his multicolored walls.

"-Is the sky. And I'm…"

He paused, exhaled and looked back at her.

"Sorry, that sounds dumb."

"No, it's okay."

She walked back over to the work desk and sat her backpack away from the forest green candle, removed her feline appendages, took a few steps across the floorboard before she lifted her feet over the uneven row and sat down next to him.

"It's really beautiful."

"Yeah?"

She nodded.

"It's not how I want it to look."

"What do you want it to look like?"

He lowered the vanilla candle so it barely touched his abdomen and trailed his sight all around again.

"It doesn't matter."

Either he was high out of his mind or maybe he was trying to communicate some sort of deep thought. Whatever it was, she couldn't put a finger on it and maybe it would be explained when he sobered up. She carefully captured the small, thick glass from his grip, set it beside two orange candles on the night stand and shifted her body down so that she could lie beside him and perhaps understand what picture he was trying to paint.

A brute reaction seized her heart. It wasn't possible for it to be the ones she's been having, was it…?

She turned her head to find his half-lidded eyes looking dead back, the blunt held in his hand and the end between the edge of his mouth. He held his breath and passed it to her, she demurely pinching it between her forefinger and thumb before mimicking his action. Nothing had been said. They each gratified in the unsteady shine of hues, shortening the joint into a roach. He puffed the last of it, expelled the smoke, laid it on the ashtray and leaned his left arm across her body to put it on top of his polka-dotted analog clock.

Her eyes were closed, mind in a state of meditation. Her soul felt like it soared above the skies and before she could reach the stars she felt the side of his chin lie on her shoulder and his hand caress the right side of her hip. She tried not to show her delight when her dress shirt crinkled underneath her sweater vest. Meulin looked beside her and all he did was smile.

"I had a dream about you."

She raised her plucked brows, lifted her right hand and traced the invisible line between grey and white on his cheek, regressing back to her touchy-feely habits.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you danced on this field and I was lying down and looking up at the sky. I tried to at least recreate what I had seen in my mind but it don't even compare, Kit, it don't compare to what I saw all up in there."

She looked with delight as he stared far off at the wall opposite her.

"What did you see?"

His tongue traced the inside of his cheek, a clear sign of searching to find the right words to say.

"…Miracles."

She grinned and hummed in amusement, trailing the side of his chin with her forefinger while his hand slithered up her skirt to trace the bronze nylon that sheathed her lower body.

"Are you sure this isn't the weed talking?"

"It might be."

"I'm teasing!"

"I know, baby."

Kurloz moved his hand away from her skirt, only to place his limber fingers around her jawline and straighten it so she faced the ceiling again. He leaned himself even further on the side of her body and buried the bridge of his nose on the side of her neck. She giggled and felt his hand go back to her side and the damp curls that now tickled her ear and face. He must have taken a shower not too long ago. Minutes passed, possibly longer and all she knew was that she belonged there, in his bed and under his arms with the constant shiver of her shoulders whenever the heat from his nose would brush her skin. In her mind, the moment would never end and she never wanted it to.

There was the movement of his curls, the press of lips on her earlobe and the mild graze from his incisors. With senses heightened by the 'catnip', her eyes fluttered, slit and let the colors seep through the diagonal cross of her lashes.

His hand flattened on her hip, moved up her waist and back down until it slid to her inner thigh which subconsciously parted. He began to suck on her tender flesh to which she bunched up comforter with her right hand and educed a tiny gasp of surprise. The other hand was trapped below his frame and his nails scraped the sleek fabric that came between her skin and his touch. Each finger fanned out and one by one pushed between her tights and the center of her panties. She shivered when they began to match a ravishingly slow movement created by the tip of his tongue.

Meulin squeaked and spread her thigh so far her lower leg dangled over the edge. Kurloz swiftly moved his head upward to face her, eyes glossed with a deep, unbridled passion. With her tentative senses that felt the attention, she became infected with his lust as soon as her eyelids parted to interpret his words.

"I want you, baby."

He never stopped moving his fingers and she moaned quietly, licking the peach flavor off of her lips while her voice became airy and strained with distraction.

"…Okay."

He flashed his teeth in a gentle smile before he leaned down and connected their lips together. His tongue traced the bottom of her lip and she parted them out of shock from the tingling, blissful sensation. His expert organ took this opportunity to twirl around hers. Together did their mouths move in practiced unison as he slipped one hand behind her tuft of hair and pushed her head up so he could delve deeper. She whined from the eager fingertips that continued to stroke between her legs. Her breathing became harsh, her heartbeat rapid inside her rib cage and her hands tangled all over his messy curls of hair and felt each one move below her palms and sculpt back to its natural shape.

Her eyelids fluttered from the multitasking and her toes curled at the oozing response that threatened to flow at any moment. He lowered her head and moved his hand so it could prop him up, stopped the movements of his hand and licked the edge of his lips while she watched him gather his thoughts.

"Damn, you taste good."

She giggled lightly while her flush deepened to an intense cherry.

"That's embarrassing."

He laughed, lowered to her neck and sucked on his favorite place between her neck and shoulder, the very place he put his first mark on her. She lifted her starving hips in a delicate want and felt his hard muscles compared to her malleable curves overlaid with cotton and other fabrics. His hands glided beneath the sides of her dress shirt and pushed her down, she craning her neck with hitched breath and soft moans. Once the sweet torturer was satisfied with the small bruise on her pallor he lifted his torso upright, tugged the edges of her green vest and lifted it up with her raised arms in the process. He carefully tossed it behind him to avoid the risk of its plunge to the floor beside burning candlelight.

His skilled fingers unbuttoned each slit of her long sleeved dress shirt until it exposed her heaving bust and scarlet bra. Her arms moved beside herself and her hands splayed out on the bed to lift herself up, remove and toss the shirt beside her vest and unclasp the hook behind her. He tugged at the center and extended her arms towards him so he could pull off the material while the straps slid down her limbs. His hands gripped her waist and led her back down on the bed as he kissed her sternum, she hissing from the feeling of his torso on top of her exposed breasts. Her hands lifted and grabbed the sides of the pillow beneath her head. He moved back up to stare at her, eyes trailing down, up and all across her nude anatomy. Meulin shyly moved her head to the right and instead focused on the dancing colors. She felt his hand unzip the side of her skirt, tug it down as she courteously lifted her legs and discard it on the growing pile of clothes. His hands executed the same procedure with her tights, fondled the curvature of her hips before each forefinger pulled down the sides. Meulin bit the corner of her lip, knowing she was melting like heated gel.

His limbs inched him back over her frame. His right hand cupped one of her perky breasts, his tongue giving it attention while the other descended her stomach to pet the soft hairs beneath her panties. Normally, she would be self-conscious about her lack of pure femininity, caring enough to only leave that patch of fuzz but in the moment she dared not tread the waters of that though and instead leaned her head forward and whimpered like she wanted to. His mouth moved to the other breast, flicked the nipped until it became hard and sucked on it fiercely.

The teasing fingers pressed between her humid lips and explored her stretched, inner walls with a compassionate rhythm. Her faced twisted in a pleasured anguish and her legs twitched as they subconsciously bent and spread wide open. Her voice cracked under the bliss.

"Kur-!"

Meulin couldn't finish. His head moved up and he gazed in a mesmerizing lust. She lazily let go of the hard clutch at the pillow and propped herself up with her forearms. Her breaths came out heavy at the fingers that still pervaded her contracting, soft flesh.

"…Take them out."

Still in a stupor, he leisurely removed his hands from her panties. She breathed to calm her body down before pushing his body from between her legs and onto his side. He leaned his upper body weight with one arm and didn't have time to inquire as her hand's hasty movements down his boxers said quite enough. Brave fingers encircled his hard flesh as she pushed herself up with her other arm. Kurloz craned his head back at the sudden arousing movements and she took this time to nip at his exposed skin. She could see his chest expand heavily as he desperately tugged his boxers down with his free hand.

Meulin pinched his neck with her teeth as she stroked him, stunningly enjoying the shift in dynamic. He could only bury his face on the side of her hair and she could feel the long breaths from his lips. The hand on his only clothing gripped her upper arm, stroking it with his thumb as she remembered to start at the base and work her way up. She could see the tiny bruise she left on his luxurious tan and began to lap at it with her flat tongue.

His hand moved from her arm, took hold of her jawline and tilted it upward so he could assault her mouth once more before she squeezed him. He retraced and her eyes opened in time for her to experience the attractive, pseudo-distress on his face and the breath that escaped that she could only assume was a groan.

"Fuck…!"

His hand landed on hers and curtly ceased her affections. She watched as the muscles on his face relaxed and his eyes looked into hers while she gazed at his parted lips in caution.

"On or off?"

"What…?"

Kurloz pointed to his face and referred to his paint. She smiled at him, knowing it was an important decision.

"I want it on, if you want."

He returned the warm sentiment, pushed her back down on the bed and kissed her cheek before he pulled up his boxers and made his way towards his dresser. She wiggled her toes and shivered in anticipation, he most likely getting the box she left when they had their first time. After a few moments, he came back and lied atop her, she already noticing the lack of clothing and latex.

He tilted her chin with his hand and gazed straight in her lowered eyes with conviction.

"It won't hurt this time."

She smiled and caressed his lips with her fingertips.

"I know."

"Okay."

Kurloz leaned down, briefly locked their lips in a butterfly kiss before she widened her thighs apart for him. The hand on her chin moved to his side so he could shift his weight on his lower arm while the other positioned himself inside. Meulin placed her hands on the top of his broad shoulders in last minute before he gingerly eased himself in. Her eyes closed and she gasped at the sensation of being filled once again. He had made sure, inch after inch, to pay close attention to her reaction but all he could see was her expression of rapture. It felt slick and foreign but intoxicating nonetheless.

Several candles extinguished with time, wax melted in a puddle while others blazed with strength and still reflected the shades of wine and pale blue.

Meulin gave him a reassuring nod, diminishing any thoughts of discomfort. One of her hands trailed up his neck and to the back of his ear to curl a strand of hair around her finger. His hips lifted and created an unhurried bounce as she craned her head and drew out tiny sighs and abrupt intakes of breath. Her whole body shifted above the comforter and her cheeks prickled like a limb that fell asleep.

The casual pace gradually increased and she wrinkled her brows at the constant pleasure of being filled by the person she so wonderfully loved.

"Kurloz!"

His name rolled off of her modest tongue. It was the first time she had said it in that way and it aroused her in a strangely comforting way. The movement of their bodies became more obvious on the bedding and her face held the strained anguish of warmth and pleasure that spread throughout her body. At some point, he nimbly removed the hand from his shoulder to interlace their fingers on the bed. She clutched to the feeling of his heartbeat and barely glanced up with slit eyes.

He never looked away from her.

She evoked a consistent pattern of wails and moans. Her head nodded to him in constant reassurance and his pace quickened with haste to which she whined and kept her mouth agape. He hit her g spot over and over, the same prickling from her cheeks now suffusing throughout her stomach, chest, limbs and tips.

The heat escalated and the hand in his hair slid down to grip his forearm, pitch higher and higher with each thrust he made. She felt submerged in a hot bath that was deliberately filling to reach the brim. She craned her head back and wailed in long intervals, the deep pleasure spreading from that spot he hit. It made her face scrunch in ecstasy. Kurloz couldn't help but to lower his head at this and pound deeper, her cries like an addiction. It looked like she wanted to sob any moment.

The water overflowed and spilled righteously. He fucked her through it as she practically tore the skin on the hand that intertwined with hers. She shakily and sporadically yelled in mirth with eyes fluttered back, the spasms like waves and it forced its way inside every part of her body. He progressively slowed his pace and leaned down to sloppily kiss her cheek. She could feel the hot breath from his nose and the now dried curls that caressed her face. Eventually he stopped and she could level her breathing and soak up the glory of her delirium. He kissed the side of her mouth.

"Can I …Uh…"

She could feel the irregular breaths on her skin and looked up at him, he still looking like he was in a delirious state of lust. She giggled.

"What is it?"

"Can I…Inside you."

He looked down and scratched his head to which she tilted her own and finally dawned on her.

"Of course you can."

"You sure..?"

She nodded excitedly as she moved the hand up from his forearm back to his shoulder. He looked on the edge didn't hesitate to thrust faster than before. She gasped in surprise but paid close attention to the tension on his face. His head lowered with teeth bare and gritted against each other.

"Kurloz…!"

It was enough for him to stiffen, widen his mouth and roll his eyes. She arched her back in awe, eyes dilated in an eternal astonishment. She knew she was protected but with such an expression, emotion and even the thought of him spilling inside of her she couldn't help but react all the same. The one moment where she enjoyed herself the most was the moment she regretted because she couldn't hear his wonderful cry, and she'll never be able to.

The feeling was bittersweet.

He slowly lowered his torso, buried his face in the crook of her neck and curled his arms around her frame. They both steadied their breaths; she massaged his back and closed her eyes. It was safe to say that they would clean each other up, change the sheets and fall in a satisfying slumber but for now she wanted to feel the curls of his hair tickling her cheek, his hard body on top of hers that expelled body heat, sweat and his heartbeat while she squeezed his interlaced hand. She wanted to cherish the feeling of him inside, never wanting to be apart. She wanted to indulge in his natural scent while it mixed with all the other manufactured ones by the candlelight. Most of all, she wanted to forever remember the image of periwinkles and wines displayed on his walls and to always keep the sensation of tingling cheeks and feeling loved in every way possible, to keep the trust and love she felt for Kurloz Makara.

"I love you."

When she said it, he still had enough energy to move his face in front of hers and lock their lips in a messy but passionate manner.

She knew he loved her back because she could always feel it in their kiss, no matter what.

Meulin Leijon awoke late on a Sunday evening.

Her body was splayed under the encasing grey sheets and black comforter; limbs were wide apart and took over the whole space, unaware of their vacant inamorato until it was too late. She rotated her head from her left where there was nothing but wall to her right and felt the cotton fabric tickle her nose. There was a faint scent of laundry detergent and she inhaled, happily remembering when Kurloz smelled of fresh gardens.

Her eyes slit open, letting in a familiar white light that made prisms all across her lashes. Whatever they did after their love making, it wasn't coming to mind. Maybe it didn't matter. Those details won't be of much importance if she finds out they just cleaned up, dressed and huddled in bed. Her eyes scrunched for a second and tried to let in the brightness of the walls. She could see one ICP poster had been put back on the wall opposite her own. The blur of the window above the night stand made her assume it was going to be one of those blank, March mornings-

Her heart skipped. The setting was too familiar.

Meulin's eyes warily glanced over to see her lover hunched on his work desk with nothing but a dark blue t shirt and matching boxers. His curls were tangled in a wet mess, his elbow propped up the side of his head which rested on his fist. She couldn't see his face but knew he was focused on the screen of his laptop. His legs were parted and one foot tapped on the floorboard. He, most likely, was working on something in a program and she blinked, inhaled and yawned.

The small noise must have been loud enough for him to hear because he slowly stretched his arms up, stood from his chair, closed his laptop and moved his body away from the desk so his frame could face her. Her upper body sprang vertically, in the manner of one just having a nightmare. The sheets crumbled in front of her pale purple tank top and pink panties. Her face retained curiosity while inwardly, her mind was short-circuiting and unable to comprehend what it was she had the utmost privilege to witness Kurloz's face.

It was bare.

"Hi, sweetheart."

He moved with a grace, lopsided grin plastered on his lips. The dimple that formed on his cheek and the small, thin lines beside his eyes were clearly plain to her. He leaned down and she could see again the scattered beauty marks and tired eyelids. His kiss, when she inhaled, did not have the scent of spearmint but that of fresh cotton, like his home would. The prickles on her cheeks became alive and that sweet thought of skin sticking when they parted made her chest well with fascination and joy.

"Good morning, Kurzorz."

"Evening, actually."

"Oh. Oops."

The grin never left his face and she traced the tiny hairs that grew on his jawline before it cupped his smooth cheek. She guessed he didn't bother to shave when he was in the shower. Small beads of water looked like dew atop his sharp hairs. He closed his eyes and she could feel the warmth emanating not just from his face but from his entire person. She prayed, for only a moment, that this wasn't a cruel dream but she took a look at those long lashes and healthy tan...

...It was all so very real.

"You like pancakes or waffles?"

She hunched her shoulders.

"Um…I like pancakes."

He pried his almond-shaped eyes open and smirked.

"You such a north kid."

"Nuh-uh!"

He laughed breathily, straightened his back upright and ran a hand through his damp curls.

"It'll be ready in about, let's say…twenty minutes. You can take a shower around that time, right?"

"Mmhm!"

"'Kay."

He moved like a feather. His legs twirled his body around and his legs ambled in a smooth, melodious tempo. He swayed towards the edge of the casing on the door, putting his forehead on it before he rotated his body around to face her in an awkward way. It was like his hands couldn't help him stand upright so he used his own head for support, like he was inebriated or toked on the maximum dosage of sort of hallucinogenic drug. Even on marijuana, he never acted like this around her. His face still retained that same, lopsided grin. The bright light from the window made his lidded eyes glow with innocence, as well as the rest of his skin. She giggled and crinkled her nose when he twirled again, this time in the direction out the bedroom and it left her to reflect on the progress she just made. It was rejuvenating to just stare at him and she leveled her suddenly rising pattern of breath, unsure about it all.

She decided that a shower would be best to clear her mind of creeping uncertainties. She folded the crumpled sheets, walked across the cool floorboard where there wasn't a candle to be found, grabbed her pink backpack and headed out the doorway into the bathroom.

After more or less fifteen minutes, she emerged up the stairs and welcomed a warming scent of breakfast with a long, blood red towel wrapped around her body as she let her hair dry.

They ate together at the dinner table. She sat opposite him, watching his eager lips be stuffed with biscuits and move with ideas for the Easter Bash coming up in two weeks. She dreaded her science project involving clean energy and he promised to help with some research as best he could when he had the free time. They helped each other out with dishes and went downstairs to properly dress. He told her not to worry about the grey weather and that the sun would come out later in the evening. It gave her the incentive to put on an orange, puffy sun dress with yellow flower print, spaghetti straps and length above her knees. He slipped on some ashy grey pants and black socks to walk around in the house. She looked twice, all around his bedroom to make sure she wasn't going to leave any sort of important belongings behind, zipped up her backpack and they both headed back upstairs. Since she had to work on an outline for an essay and didn't want any 'lovely distractions' she decided to go home early. He offered her a ride home and she happily accepted so he slipped on some black converse and she her shiny, black dress shoes that didn't exactly match but when they stood in front of each other it didn't matter.

She was behind the front door, beaming up at him while he tugged playfully at the pale pink straps around her shoulders. It would be rare to see his face again so casually did she take as long as she could to observe his exotic features; from the hair that framed his simple features to the full lips that she wanted to kiss over and over and over again. They only communicated a wordless understanding and love for one another with their eyes.

And maybe she was close to healing like he was. Maybe one day, sooner or later, she would tell him about the accident. She would tell him about her losses. She would tell him everything just as he has and he would accept every detail. Her hopes were too high and nothing could bring her down.

"You have everything?"

She nodded as he moved the hand from her strap and caressed her shoulder.

"Okay."

Kurloz leaned down to kiss her cheek and Meulin grinned boisterously, loving the feel of life and renewal on her skin. He leaned his head up and put his forehead on hers, moving both his hands between her back and her bag, bringing her even closer. She peeked up with mirth, knowing he didn't want to let her go just yet.

"…Say it again."

Her smile partly faded with interest, eyes undecided as to what he mouthed. He looked down and squeezed her waist in desperation, brows almost wrinkled.

"Please, say it."

It took a moment but the sparkle in her eyes came back to life, the beam transformed into a foolish grin and her arms encircled around his back, not looking at his mouth but his neutral eyes.

"I love you, Kurloz."

His lips tugged upward, his eyes closed and he nodded in a silent thank you. She could feel the heat of his skin as he slid his face down next to her neck and the now dried curls that tickled her ears. They embraced each other for a long time, she soothing his upper back with her flat hands. Their bodies squished even closer; his strong grip never let up while her back arched and her feet lifted, wanting to feel the beat of his medium once more.

When she closed her eyes she only saw the redness of her eyelids, but the feeling of his heart exploded into tiny bits of fireworks into her darkness, resembling that of the night sky. It was basic, and cheesy, and unequivocally visceral.

His body weight became heavy under her hold and collapsed to the ground, being cautious of the hard tile beneath them. Their knees pressed together and her feet bent unnaturally against the door frame. Her hands slid up to his hair, knowing it would comfort him and didn't question their sudden descent.

That was until she felt a trickle of liquid slid down her shoulders.

"Kurloz…"

She didn't feel saddened, or alarmed or even distressed. It was as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. All she did was massage his deep curls and leaned her face towards his own.

Kurloz Makara didn't budge.

He didn't whine, or sob or hiss.

He didn't crease his brow or upturn his mouth or scrunch his lips.

There were no trials or tribulations to look back on or even the faintest sentiment of misery.

There wasn't anything but the last of his winter to dispel from his eyes, roll off her shoulders and vaporize into nihility.

It left nothing but the last trail of amaranths in its place.

Kurloz held Meulin, his star, in his arms and never wanted her to leave his spring ever again.