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Carol turned to Kris, smiling, and extended her hand in a familiar gesture. The start of another carnal dance. “Come here, Kris.”
Kris—
They shouldn’t have hesitated. They should’ve stepped forward, like always, and let themself fall into Carol’s embrace. Cold, but comforting in ways nobody else could measure up to. Only this time, Kris didn’t move. They stood there in the middle of her bedroom, their feet frozen to the cream-colored carpet.
Carol’s smile slowly slid off her face. “Is there something wrong?” she asked. Her voice was neutral, but her gaze was piercing. Demanding.
Kris bit their lip and bowed their head, hiding behind their long bangs. Their hands fisted into their skirt—a skirt Carol had bought for them, in their precise measurements, several months ago—as they stared down at their sock-clad feet. “I…” It was hard to speak, even knowing Carol preferred it when they used their words. These weren’t words she’d want to hear. “I don’t…”
Carol dropped her arm and approached Kris, her hooves padding on the carpet, until she was standing right in front of them. Kris couldn’t raise their head to look her in the eyes. “Kris. I asked you a question.” She was still speaking neutrally, almost flatly, but Kris could hear it beginning to show itself: that hard, steel edge, like a blade slowly being unsheathed. “I’d appreciate if you’d answer it.”
Kris swallowed. “I…don’t want to,” they mumbled. The shape of the words was unfamiliar, foreign to their tongue; they’d never said this to Carol before. “I don’t want to…do this any more…”
Carol was chillingly quiet. Her gaze drilled deep into Kris’ core. “Well. This is interesting,” she finally remarked, incredulous, and Kris’ heart skipped a beat. “Why would you say that, Kris? You’ve never turned me down before.”
Because she’d never given them any other choice. Still, Kris kept their mouth shut. They couldn’t say why, nor could they bear looking at her.
An icy hand clamped down firmly on their shoulder. Kris winced. “We’ve been over this, Kris,” Carol said, dropping her voice dangerously low. “When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer me.”
I don’t belong to you, Kris thought, gritting their teeth until their jaw ached. Not any more. I belong to Susie now. But they couldn’t say it. They couldn’t get Susie in trouble, too…
Carol grabbed their chin and yanked their head up, forcing Kris to meet her eyes. A deep, vivid blue like a cold ocean, or the depths of an ice cave. Kris knew all too well they could drown in her gaze. “Can’t you say?” Carol asked—but not out of courtesy. “Or won’t you say?”
Kris clenched the hem of their skirt tight in their fists. I don’t want to. I don’t want to. They repeated it in their head, over and over, as if thinking it enough times would telepathically implant the thought, and their feelings, into Carol’s brain. I can’t be a replacement for Rudy or Dess…
Carol narrowed her eyes. She was frowning now; her brow, knotted. “Kris,” she warned. “You know I won’t tolerate the silent treatment.”
They didn’t budge. Kris’ mouth was dry, and their throat was closing in on itself; even if they wanted to speak, it’d be difficult.
Carol’s expression morphed into a snarl. She dug her long fingernails into Kris’ skin until they gasped, arms jumping upward on reflex to paw uselessly at her elbow. “What do you mean, you ‘don’t want to do this any more’?” she demanded. The blade had been fully drawn, sheath cast aside.
I don’t want to be your puppet any more. I’m sick of it. The lies, the secrecy…the crushing, suffocating guilt, strangling at their heart like a thin string. The knowledge it was getting other people hurt, when all Kris wanted to do was help. Save Dess. Fix everything. Wasn’t there a better way? Was it necessary to be so cruel? But even when Kris opened their mouth to speak, the words lodged in their throat like a spiked ball. Only a shaky breath came out. What little courage Kris had found to speak their mind was disappearing fast. Even if they said anything, besides, Carol would weaponize it against them. They couldn’t give her any more blades to cut them with…
Carol leaned her head in until her nose was mere centimeters from brushing Kris’. When she spoke, her cold, minty breath washed over their face. Its scent burned Kris’ nostrils. “Shall I guess why, then? Is it because you’ve decided you don’t love me any more?”
…but that didn’t mean she didn’t have plenty of blades in her own arsenal already.
“No!” Kris burst out, voice squeaking and cracking in desperation. They clutched Carol’s arm, all but trying to hug it. “N-no, of—of course not, Carol—”
Carol shook them off and snatched their tie, hauling Kris up onto their tiptoes. They cut off with a choked gasp, hands snapping upward to claw at the tightness around their neck. Carol didn’t budge; her grip was like iron.
“Then, Kris,” she growled, no longer bothering to hide her arctic anger, “you should be able to accept everything and anything of me.”
Kris knew that. They knew. That was what you were supposed to do for the people you loved. That was what loving another person meant. Staying by their side and never leaving them; even if it hurt. Even when it hurt. Anything less couldn’t be called true love…
“Unless you’d prefer it if I hated you instead?”
This accusation stung worse than the first. “N-no,” Kris stammered, shaking their head. “No, Carol, I—”
“I would certainly hope so,” Carol snapped frostily, cutting them off again. “Or else everything you and I have worked for goes to waste.”
Then she let go of them. Kris stumbled; their weak, shaking legs gave out underneath them, and they collapsed to the floor, hands circling their neck as they gasped for breath.
“Stand up, Kris,” Carol ordered.
Kris slowly rose to their feet, even as dizziness threatened to keel them back over. Carol was glaring at them, arms folded tight across her chest. Fingernails digging into the fabric of her shirt. She was angry in a way she rarely showed around Kris, and Kris could only crumple underneath the pressure, knowing they’d earned her ire.
“Strip,” Carol commanded. “Now.” Her tone brooked absolutely no argument.
Kick her, Kris’ mind told them. Punch her. Go grab your knife. You can fight her. You don’t have to take this. You don’t have to endure it.
Yet, whether out of fear or trained reflex, the will to resist was slipping from Kris. This was what they deserved, for being a liar. A traitor. A bad person. For doing the one thing they were never supposed to do: saying they loved Carol, only to fall in love with someone else instead.
With trembling hands, Kris fumbled their tie undone and dropped it to the floor like a shed skin, before unbuttoning their shirt. They tried breathing slowly, slipping away into the familiar motions. Only, Kris couldn’t stop shaking. Their skin was raised in goosebumps. Their heart wouldn’t stop pounding against their ribcage like it wanted to burst out of their chest, grow legs, and flee from the room. It was hardly the first time Kris had stripped bare in front of Carol, and it was never not nervewracking. But this was the first time in months Kris had felt so meek. So tiny. Utterly, completely powerless.
At last, they were standing stark naked before Carol, every inch of them exposed to her cold and relentless gaze. Almost as soon as Kris slid their briefs past their ankles, Carol strode forward and grabbed their arm, wrenching them across the room while ignoring their quiet cry of pain. Her bare hand was an ice burn against their unshielded skin.
Carol steered Kris in front of the floor-length mirror and held them there, hands clamped in a vice grip over their scarred upper arms. “Look,” she demanded.
Kris didn’t want to. Especially not now. “Please,” they tried pleading, voice thin and wispy. Their throat hurt. Their heart was racing. Nervous sweat had gathered under their hair, plastering it to their skin. Their legs were still shaking; if not for Carol holding them in place, they’d likely collapse again.
Carol only grabbed their chin and shoved their head up. Kris screwed their eyes shut, but all she needed to do was dig her fingernails in for a second time until Kris was forced to open them. She kept a tight hold on their jaw all the while, so they couldn’t turn away. “Look at yourself, Kris.”
Kris had no other option but to face their reflection, through the tears pricking at their eyes. The mirror displayed their body in all its ugliness. Pale, thin skin tight around prominent bones. Sparse hair that only gathered in select places. Blunt, chewed fingernails; equally pathetic toenails. Floppy, unremarkable little breasts. The scars neatly carved into their arms and thighs, tallying their sins: many old, faded to nearly invisible white lines; many recent, pinkish and all too noticeable. Their flat nose and dull teeth. And their eyes: their unnaturally red eyes, marking them as a freak even among their own kind. A demon. Evil.
“Do you understand, Kris?” Carol was saying. Leaning down to mutter into their ear, her freezing breath washing over their neck. “This is what you are. A human. The only human in a town full of monsters. And no matter how hard you try, you can never be truly accepted or loved by any of them.”
That’s not true, Kris thought, clenching their fists by their sides until their uneven nails bit into their palms. I know it isn’t. But they couldn’t say it out loud. Everything Carol said was correct. Kris had known it for as long as they’d been old enough to recognize how different they were to the monsters around them. To their own family.
“Except for me.” Carol slid her other hand around Kris’ slim waist to gently pull them back against her in a one-armed hug, even as she maintained her iron grip on their jaw. Kris flinched when her clothed breasts pushed against their shoulder blades. “Because I’m the only one who understands your pain. How it feels to be lonely, ugly, broken, and unwanted…”
Kris couldn’t say anything. They knew that. They knew. That was why they were here to begin with.
A tear escaped and slid down one freckled cheek of its own will, scorching a hot, wet trail in its wake. Carol swiped it away with a stroke of her thumb before it could drip off Kris’ chin, while she continued lecturing them. “I’m the only person who can truly love you, Kris. And the only one who can accept you for who and what you are. If you spurn me, who else is left?”
Nobody. Their birth parents had already abandoned them. Left them to die alone in the forest. Dess had disappeared into the darkness. Their father had left them in favor of his work, and he barely acknowledged Kris unless he needed something from them. Their brother had left them behind to rot in the nest while he sought a future without them. Rudy was slowly wasting away in the hospital; any day now, he’d breathe his last. Noelle, Catti, Berdly—one by one, they’d all drifted away. It was only a matter of time before Kris’ mother followed, too. Ralsei, who only cared about them to begin with because of the prophecy; the same one that said Kris was nothing but a cage. Parts. And Susie…even Susie would discard them, once she found out how rotten Kris really was. How much they’d been lying to her, using her—
“Say it, Kris,” Carol ordered.
“Nobody,” Kris whispered. It scraped the inside of their throat like sandpaper.
Carol nodded gravely. “Yes. Nobody, Kris. And that’s why you can’t back out of this. You need me. And I need you, too. Remember what we promised each other?”
“I know,” Kris mumbled. “I didn’t—didn’t forget…”
“Good. Because I would hate to know you were giving up on December, too.”
Kris forcefully shook their head. They weren’t. They wouldn’t. They never could. Not Dess. She’d been the only other person who’d loved them for who they were. Who’d never coddled them or treated them any less just because they were human. Kris would throw away the entire world if it meant they could see her again…see her smile and hear her laugh and feel her hold them in her arms and ruffle their hair…
“Still—words are only words, Kris. If you want me to trust you, then you need to prove yourself to me.”
As she spoke, Carol released their chin and circled her arm around their shoulders to lead them away from the mirror. Back across the room, over to her bed. Kris didn’t fight it. There was no point. There had never been any point in fighting to begin with.
Carol sat them down on mattress, gently tipping their head up with two fingers so they met her gaze again. “You trust me, don’t you, Kris?” she asked, deceptively soft. Her expression, expectant.
There was only one answer Kris could give. “Y-yeah.”
“And you love me, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I—I love you, Carol.” It was true; Kris loved her. They did. They did. Even if it hurt. Even when it hurt. Because it hurt. The pain in their chest as they said the words was proof enough of how much they loved her.
Carol nodded, looking almost satisfied. Almost. “Then you know what you have to do,” she murmured, finally dropping her hand again.
Kris licked their dry, chapped lips. Swallowed. Then they raised their shaking hands to cup Carol’s cheeks, and she let them guide her downwards to meet them halfway. Kris kissed her on the mouth gently, lovingly. Her lips were almost warm, if tacky with her lipstick, and she both smelled and tasted of peppermint, along with the evening’s choice of white wine. Her slow, steady breaths tickled their upper lip; her hands came to rest on their bare shoulders, fur coarse but pleasantly rough. Her cold temperature seemed to bleed through their whole body, numbing them from head to toe, like they were being slowly submerged in ice water. Kris lowered their hands to unfasten the top button of Carol’s shirt, and she didn’t resist. She allowed them to take the lead for this carnal dance, letting them show her they’d memorized all she’d taught them.
This was Kris’ place. This was where they belonged; where they were meant to be. As long as they were good, Carol would accept them; love them, praise them. And as long as she was happy, Kris had to be, too.