by Kat Quinn
His limbs are wrapped tightly around our shared treasure from behind, almost as though he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he lets her go. A wiser move, perhaps, than he knows. The slender fingers of one long hand just barely make contact with my bare side, his ghostly pale skin a beautiful contrast to the cool, darker tones of my own. Let alone the warm amber honey of the woman trapped between us.
I appreciate the woman in front of me, not a dainty sleeper by any measure. Her purple hair has grown wild in the night, curls seeking their tendrils out to wrap around and ensnare anything they possibly can, but especially each other. A trail of partially-crusted drool leads from her mouth to my arm, the limb she claimed as pillow at some point in the night. One leg is flung over my left hip, hooked in such a way that she’s managed to pry my legs apart and stomp her foot between them on the mattress.
It’s been clear from the start that Dizzy is a splendid creature unlike any other, the most refreshingly unashamed and bizarre being I’ve ever had the utter pleasure of coming across. My lips stretch themselves into a naughty grin. Ah yes, and I’ve certainly come across her.
Still, it’s been a long time since I’ve woken beside someone and been happy to see them. Perhaps foolishly, I smooth a hand across Dizzy’s violent violet tangles, drawing comfort from the secret of this moment. The truth that I knew I’d met my match from the moment she drew the music right back out of me; something I thought had withered and died along with Miriam.
Placing a kiss so light upon her forehead it may as well have been imagined, I carefully unravel myself from the cocoon Dizzy and Connor have made for me. Inch by secret inch, I make my silent escape, not traveling particularly far.
There’s a thin black table along the adjacent wall, topped with a well-dusted but entirely neglected violin case, its contents having lost their ability to call me long ago. Today, though, with a breath of air that feels cleaner than it has for a collection of blurred years, I can hear its song beckoning. Delicately, I sit on the small black stool nearby and take a stilling breath.
The latches flick open easily, well-oiled hinge gliding apart with zero resistance. Through the years, I’ve maintained our instruments almost as the echo of a habit I never could quite let go. Her piano, tucked away downstairs in the under-utilized study, the only lingering evidence it ever happened at all. That, and the potions.
A tune flits through my mind, begging to be brought into reality. It’s the same tune we built together that first night, when Dizzy grabbed me by the hands and danced with me, the same tune I’ve been humming under my breath ever since. It’s been following me into my dreams, building its crescendo around my consciousness, embedding its tempo into my heartbeat. This song especially craves to be set free this morning, when my spirits feel unburdened; cleansed in a way that isn’t as superficial as I’ve allowed myself to become inured to.
As quietly as I dare, my bow brings the notes to life. They flick and flit around the air, flowing and weaving into a pattern that’s bigger than the sum of its parts. There’s a purity to its sweetness, an excitement hiding right beneath its surface at the possibilities it could bloom into. Potential, pure and ready to be put to use, peeking out behind the notes of a simple song that craves to be heard. To be played. To be brought to life.
It wraps me up in its clear, bright, hopeful sound, building up a shield against everything that ever was and revealing the infinite possibility of what yet could come to be. There’s truth weaving through its scales, a golden thread I could trace to unlock its secrets, something I feel gently encouraged to chase after. It’s close, like just a few measures more and I’ll find an answer buried deep within the melody; just a few bars barring the path I’m traveling into infinity.
There’s a low groan. My guilty bow halts immediately, breath stilling. Suddenly self-conscious, it’s almost embarrassing how deeply I’d been drawn in; the missing intimacy with my music a desperate craving long neglected, and finally indulged in.
“Ugh. What’s with all the binging? Bing bing whoosh bing bing bing. Somebody turn off the alarm.” Dizzy flops an arm across her face, beautiful golden eyes still tucked hidden behind her closed lids.
“Go back to sleep, Love, it’s just me.” Violin grasped in one hand, I take a step and kneel beside the bed, placing my other hand comfortingly on her side. “I’ll leave you two to your rest and take my meddlesome melodies downstairs.” Kissing her forehead once more, I shift my weight backwards to make my retreat.
Hardly half awake, Dizzy has other plans. The arm she flopped over her head paws at my bare chest clumsily until it finds purchase and is able to anchor me in by my shoulder. “Mmm. No, don’t go. Stay with me. A little while longer,” she slurs, not entirely in control of her words just yet.
“Of course, Love, if you’ll just let me place my violin back into a place of safety?” Gently, I try to coax her hand to release my shoulder. She mumbles something, eyes cracking open to slits, brows furrowed like she’s been presented with a complex mathematical problem.
“Why a violin? Wait, what was the binging? Or… Oh. There was music, too… At the end?”
“At the end of what, Love?” I ask.
“Hm?” Her eyebrows dip further, a look of concentration trying to bring seriousness to her normally erratically exuberant features. “… There was… Edward? He needed to do something for her.”
Amused, I raise an eyebrow and push for more, “Oh? And what did this Edward need to do, and for whom? You’re not dreaming of other men now, are you, Love? Because I’m clearly the only man of your dreams.” Toothily, I grin in challenge.
“Blah. That’s too complicated to touch with a ten foot dick.” She sticks her tongue out mockingly, then scrunches up her nose for a moment. “There’s something I’m not remembering. It feels like I keep not remembering a memory I’m remembering. Like a movie I’ve seen a dozen times but always forget about once the projector stops clacking in the booth.” Dizzy lets out a small, short huff of air, then stretches; squirming freely despite Connor’s impressively motionless grip around her. “Anyway, I didn’t know you played, Lin. Since when? You hiding any other secrets from me, mister mischief?” She teases, head propped up on one arm.
“I haven’t for quite some time, now,” I reply nonchalantly.
“Oh? Why’d you stop? It’s beautiful! At least, I think it was? Might not have actually heard it. You weren’t just playing bing bing bing, were you?” Her nose scrunches again, fingers from the hand she’s resting on tapping a wave against the side of her face.
I chuckle warmly, “Well that’s reassuring. The song is yours, after all.”
Her head jerks back quickly, chin tucking in slightly as one brow pops strongly, “What song? I don’t have a song.” An eye squints suspiciously at me.
“Sure you do,” I say, stepping back just slightly and quickly playing a few measures of the tune. Dizzy’s cocked eyebrow doesn’t lower; not a hint of recognition crosses her face at the song that’s been haunting me since the first day we met. “That first night? You and Aria started the song? You danced with us as we made our way to the car? Surely you haven’t forgotten that?”
She shrugs, “Well yeah, that was a pretty big night. But Aria and I have doodled oodles of song noodles. Didn’t recognize that one in particular, my bad.” Dizzy shrugs again, then squints. “Hey wait, you didn’t answer my question. Why’d you stop? You’re really good!” Connor shifts behind her as she starts to gesture excitedly, voice raising without care for the man still sleeping encircled around her.
Nonchalantly, I return her shrug, “I used to be first chair at the Grand East Orchestra, but that was a lifetime ago.”
Dizzy shoots bolt upright in bed, Connor startling awake at the sudden, forceful movement. “What?!? But… they’re like a super-duper big deal! How am I only JUST finding out that you’re an ultra mega secret musical superstar?!” Connor readjusts, wrapping around her like a donut forming around its hole, surrounding her with as much of h
is willowy body as possible.
Busying myself with returning the instrument to its case, I turn away to make my reply. “Like I said, it was a lifetime ago. Music hasn’t had much meaning for me in quite some time, but it seems you’ve brought that back.”
“Just tell her about Miriam, Lin,” Connor mumbles sleepily from the bed. “Too many secrets keeping.” He hums a wordless grumble, eyes still closed, burying his face into Dizzy’s side without fully waking.
“Miriam?” Dizzy questions, long purple hair dangling as she cocks her head to the side.
“Just somebody I used to know a long time ago,” I dodge. “But no need to worry, Love, she’s far, far out of the picture at this point. The piano in the study downstairs was hers, actually. But that’s all that’s left, now.”
Dizzy’s nose scrunches, eyes squinting once again, “Seems there might be a bit more to it than that, Lin.”
Once again, I affect an unaffected shrug, “No big deal. We met, we made music together, she got sick, and she died. She was only the love of my life, once. Not any more.”
Dizzy’s eyes shoot open wide, “Oh my gosh! Lin!…” Her voice softens, “I had no idea. Are… are you okay?” Her lip puckers as she bites the corner of it, just one of the tiny habits that helped bring her to the foreground, bright and in full sound and color.
“Like I said, Love, it was a lifetime ago. Surely more than a decade is plenty of time to get over watching a woman wither away. Besides, if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have developed those healing potions. They weren’t strong enough to fix what was broken inside of her, but they’ve helped plenty of people since then. So, there’s some good that came from it all.” With my thumb and forefinger, I pull the corners of my own mouth up into a smile, making a joke of my own face with a forced mask. “I’m completely fine, now.” More genuinely this time, less of a comedic caricature, I do manage a small, honest smile. “And I’m even better for having met you, Love.”
There’s sadness in her smile as she gives it to me, “There’s no timeframe on feelings, you know. It’s okay to be sad forever if that’s how long you need to be, I’m in no position to judge. But I hope sad isn’t the only thing you feel all the time, for forever. I’m going to make you happy, at least sometimes, whether you want me to or not!” One arm bursts up high, pointer finger proudly displayed in its determined declaration. She nods sharply, mind completely made up now that her mission is set. “Yup. You’re mine now, Lin, and that means it’s my job to make your life better, whatever that means. Whatever you need, I’m in. I won’t let you down!”
A tiny chuckle huffs its way from my mouth, smile now stretching to twinkle in my eyes. “Like I said, Love, I’m already better for having met you.”
Nodding sharply once more, she crosses her arms in a show of strength. “Good.” Scooting, wiggling, and prying her way out of Connor’s arms, Dizzy hops down from the bed and slams her lips to mine. “And now, I must away to the bathroom, for my bladder demands I pee it attention!” Hurriedly, she does a wriggling waddle towards the door and flings it open, almost immediately falling flat on her face, sprawling gracelessly as a handful of flung spaghetti.
Because of course she does.
21. Kieran
“Oof!” Dizzy trips head-first and lands, hard; fall thankfully broken by my massive, plush, red wolf body. I lick her face tentatively, absolutely unwilling to forgive myself if she’s hurt because my dumb fucking ass got in the way. It was almost impossible trying to sleep so far from her, but knowing I’d fucked up with the whole getaway maneuver yesterday on top of everything else, it seemed best not to intrude. The least I could do was keep guard at the door.
She holds up a finger in front of my muzzle, “Uggghhhhhhhhh. Do you know how much it sucks to fall when you have to pee this bad, Kieran?!” I whimper at the well-deserved scolding, mentally kicking myself for already fucking this up. Her limbs scurry wildly to gain purchase and get back to standing. “You and me, Beefcake, we need a chat. But, like, give me five minutes,” her words rush out as she hurries across the hall and slams the door to the bathroom behind her.
I peer into Lin’s room, the damned man grinning wildly at the scene of my misfortune. “Oh, good luck with that one, wolfie.” He twiddles his fingers in a mocking farewell as I turn towards the bathroom, sitting alert next to the door this time, rather than laying directly in front of it.
Not too much longer, the door swings open, Dizzy pausing to check the path is clear before emerging. My chest rumbles in approval as I realize she’s wearing one of my shirts, and only one of my shirts. The scent of sex wafts strongly from her direction, almost distracting me from my groveling to pin her down and fuck her. Almost.
Dizzy shaggily claws the tips of her nails through her scalp, sighing. “Alright, you. We’ve gotta get this nonsense sensed up before I lose my mind and try to eat my own face off in frustration because it’s possibly more polite than trying to eat yours instead.” She jerks her head to the side, beckoning me to follow as she starts to descend the stairs. Careful not to make the same mistake twice, I keep well behind her so I’m not the reason she trips, but not so far back that I couldn’t snatch the back of her shirt between my teeth if I’m not.
This is part of the problem, I know it’s part of the fucking problem. I can’t stop needing to do it, I know I need to stop, but I can’t fucking stop.
Not bothering to put on shoes, Dizzy grabs her black jacket from the table next to the front door and throws it on, stepping outside before holding the way open for me. She groans, sighs again, rakes at her hair, makes guttural noises; always halfway starting words while walking before giving up on them and returning to a whole gamut of indecisive noises. I whimper softly, placing my nose in one of her hands when it dangles within range, doing my best to give her the time to give me the lashing I know I deserve. I’ve been a real jackass, I know it, and she deserves better than the yelling and screaming bullshit this stress has reduced me to. It’s sent me spiraling out of fucking control, and that’s not okay. I know it’s not okay. I need to make this right. Don’t fuck it up even more, Kieran, show her you can be patient.
We pace further around the property, rounding the house and entering the backyard before she finally blurts out, “I’m not happy!” Her fingers curl into claws deep in the fur at the nape of my neck. “I am, but I’m not. Like, I’m not unhappy, maybe a little, but I’m starting to lose my mind over all the things building up that aren’t how I want them to be, and I know that’s not helpful but that’s what it boils down to.”
Bumping against her leg with my side, I urge her forward, both physically and verbally. “This is just… really different than what I’m used to. And I know what I’m used to is really, really different, I get that, but that doesn’t mean mixing it up so much is any easier. You know?” Her fingers twirl into my fur as she glances down at me, my green eyes constantly tracking her and our surroundings at the same time. “It’s not all your fault, I know that. I worked some of it out with Monty, and a lot of the problem is that I keep feeling smothered and stifled and trapped and birdy birdy no more wings, no more bye-bye. Which doesn’t feel right to me, you know? Settling feels unsettling.”
Dizzy kicks her heel against the grass, ripping up a couple of blades in the process but continuing forward. “So I know that’s something I need to work on myself, but… We really need to find some middle ground, here. As much as I hate it, as much as getting my ass handed to me every day is just overwhelmingly embarrassing and frustrating, I know you’re right when you say we need to be ready. If nothing else, the way everyone freaked out on the drive home proves it. I get it, I really do. But that doesn’t mean I need to like it. I’m allowed to hate our training, and how bad I am at it.”
She turns to walk backward, facing me fully. Her chin jutting outwards, brows furrowed, lips tightly pinched together. From her, I feel a twinge right in the center of my chest of fear. And sadness. And frustration. And betrayal. It’s a spea
r right to my fucking heart because not a single ounce of it is anything I’d ever want her to feel, especially while I’m the only one she’s looking at.
“What I don’t want is to hate YOU while hating IT.” Her head hangs at the admission, but it’s not fast enough for me to miss the sheen of wetness just barely forming over her golden eyes, or for me to miss the spear in my heart twisting sharply. I knew it. I fucking knew it. Fuck. Out of everything, everything in the universe, the one thing I never, ever, ever wanted to do was fucking hurt her, and I have. Fuck.
A small, mournful howl pulls out of me, both of our disappointments in my shittiness hanging in the note.
Tail tucked as tightly as possible, I belly-crawl to grovel at her feet, my massive head still up to her knees despite the effort. She plops down, cross-legged in front of me, tugging the sleeves of her jacket over her hands to hide them inside it. She wipes at one of her eyes quickly, the fabric hiding any evidence of tears, but I still smell their saltiness in the air. Still feel them pricking at the back of my own eyes.
“Out of everyone here, maybe except for Zeke, you should know how I’ve been feeling. How torn up I’ve been inside, and how it’s only been getting worse. And I don’t know if you think going harder is the way to make things better, but for me it’s not. You’ve been choking me and ripping us apart all in the same movement. I don’t know how we got here, I don’t, but I don’t want it to get any worse.
“I made a promise to someone today to do everything I can, whatever they need, to make them happy. Because they’re mine. Because that’s my job; make the lives of those I care about better, however I can. And right now? That’s a job you’re not doing the best at.”
Dizzy reaches out, pulling me so my head rests in her lap. She bends forward, burying her face in the crimson fur between my ears. “Whatever we need to do to both be happy, I want to get there. You’re mine, Kieran, and I’ll do what it takes. But if I’m yours, too, I need the same from you. We have to figure this out, because if it keeps spiraling out of control like it has, us at each other’s throats all the time, then one of us is going to get hurt. And if my spectacularly terrible sparring is any indication, that person is always going to be me.”