It was difficult to say whether or not he was late.
Although Kerissa had shown him functions for the timekeeping on the datapad, it was still hard to contextualize the numbers to any actual sense of time. The way his body knew things, the way he’d always known things, was on a schedule according to the Masters, and they did not use timekeeping with numbers except for measurements, such as pulse and respirations per minute, which were of course critical. Months and years were measured in batch identity codes and growth cycles and terminations. But ‘day and night’ were different. When it was light – bright, cold, blinding white – it was time to be awake and attentive and serving. When it was dark – pitch black wave the red eyes of God in the corners – then it was to be sleeping and still and absolutely silent.
That had changed somewhat with Jan, of course, but many things had. He had learned the new rules and routines, that awake or not, good or not, was wholly to Jan’s will and to God’s will through him.
So these were how Rue knew time to be: in heartbeats, and in light and darkness.
Outside was not so regulated. Daytimes and nighttimes changed not only based on which planet, station, or ship one was on but also where on them one was. And everyone had different days and months and years. And different names and numbers. And the ‘clocks’ came in so many forms. Why were the minutes longer than the hours if they were also smaller? It made no sense.
Mercury and venous pressure made sense. Punishment made sense.
So he did not know if he was late, exactly. Kerissa had invited him to her home, and he had set out very early because he did not want to be late, which was Wrong. Alk had not even had his third morning scratches. Only his second breakfast. Hunyi offered to walk him or wave him off, and he chose to go by himself, hoping to show to Kerissa he could. To show her some small way he was good.
- He had read many books in preparation for this. He had chosen his first gifts carefully. He had a list of appropriate questions and responses. They had decided on noon which was sunhigh which was lunchtime, and the sun was still high.
But what if he was late? What was egregious? One minute late? Seven? Ten? Surely any amount of overdue was wrong. But Kerissa would never punish him so how would he know.
Grumbling to himself, Rue double checked the address on the building and then followed signs for a lobby and for stairs. It seemed the numbers corresponded to floors, and so he went to the second, confirming his suspicions. From there it was just finding the right one.
He checked a third time, then juggled his things into his off-arm and tail and lifted his hand to do The Knocking.
–
Kerissa had been sat watching the clock. Her apartment was set to a higher temperature than she usually kept it, there was water set to boil for tea, everything was clean, the holo projector was away but not too far away in case they did want to use it.
Everything was perfect.
It was less stressful than when Savi visited last at least. Or at least initially. They’d had too much to share, to say, that hadn’t been but it had turned out positively. If she could navigate that she could handle Rue just visiting her home to hang out for a few hours. So long as he actually made it here. He was smart, but the galaxy was a lot and- well. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten into trouble before. Kark-
There was a knock at the door and the Kessurian hybrid let out a sigh of relief, crossing the short space and opening the door.
“Hey Rue, did you find it easy enough?” She stepped back to let him in.
The apartment was small. The door opened into living space, a 2 seater sofa providing a seperation from the hallway to the left that led to the open bathroom door and her bedroom, which was closed off. To the right, a counter created a similar cut off before one was in the kitchenette space. A hob on the counter, a countertop oven and some other electronics scattering the space. It wasn’t a lot but it was well kept, in a nice area and nothing had fallen apart when Kerissa used it. Yet.
“Kerissa!” Rue chirruped, his face immediately lighting up in a brilliant smile from the shy-scared brace it had taken on when the door opened those first seconds. His entire everything was just…softness and happiness seeing her. His tail flicked behind him as he stepped in, following her gestured direction, pausing in his glancing around to answer her. “Th– I, ahem, found it…” was easy the correct answer? Was difficult? It had been difficult to get here, through all the people and the whole rest of the city, by himself, but he had, and the finding had not been hard, but– “…I found it,” he settled on. And then shook his head and shifted about his bag until he could offer out the object he held, his arm shaking a little under the weight with only one arm to brace. “This is for the warming of your house.”
It was a plant. A very specifically chosen plant, to him, though to her it may have been just a very pretty flower. The pot it was in looked like it had been found in some dystopian-new age art show, or just stomped on when it was still wet. Or run over.
Kerissa closed to door, ensuring to lock it before stepping into the living space and leaning her back against the back of the kitchen counter.
“That’s good.” She smiled in response, and then looking over the plant. It was quite beautiful, though perhaps needed a new pot. It’d need a bigger one eventually, likely.. probably. Kerissa realised in this moment she didn’t know a whole lot about plants.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful!” She took it, cradling it in her hands for a few moments before walking to the coffee table and placing it down in the prime spot of the room. “There. It brightens up the place. What kind of flower is it?”
Rue seemed to be having A Moment as she accepted the plant and seemed pleased by it, even placing it there in sight from all around. He wiped at his eyes and scurried after her, resisting the urge to bow. Or hug.
“They are chrysanthemums,” he answered, a sniffle at first then growing stronger, that adoring tone in his voice. “They were Grandmother’s favorite. They have much meaning. This one can tell you if you like. It– I picked them because i-I think of them. You. I–” a breath, a huff for mixing his words, “when I think of you, I think of several flowers, but this chief among them.”
Kerissa felt her eyes well up. That was… It was a lot of emotions, conflicted but gratefulness came out on top. That he thought of her in such a way, in such an important one.
She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him and glad his frame wasn’t as thin as it was a few weeks ago.
Her voice cracked slightly, as she spoke, “Thank you.”
Rue stiffened a little at the initial contact, but then melted into it, his one arm coming up to tightly hold her right back. It was just old instinct to reach up to pet at the back of her hair, even if it was a vibrant pink like zinnias now instead of white.
“You’re welcome, chrysanthemum,” he murmured the equally old nickname fondly, one of so many.
Kerissa held him tightly for a few moments more, hesistant to let him go before deciding she really ought to and pulling back.
“I’ll take care of them as best I can. Come, sit down. I bought the couch for guests and it doesn’t see them often enough.” She laughed ever so slightly, using the amusement to hide the lump in her throat and she moved toward the kitchen and the heated water.
“They are not fussy plants. I can show you. Or help.” He watched her move, then looked around some more and sat down on the ground in a spot that was clear but had ✨sunlight✨, trying to play along with her direction. “What is the couch?”
“I think I’d like that.” Kerissa answered, pouring tea and glancing over at him sitting on the floor with mild confusion.
“It’s the uh, furniture thing? The…” How the kark did you describe a couch? “With the cushions on it? It’s soft to sit on.”
“…oh.” He almost grimaced before schooling his expression into placidity. “Yes, Mi– okay.”
There were multiple things that could have possibly been sat on, but the table one had books and tables were generally for sitting at, though he remembered times of Maven perching on them or tipping them over. The other thing he had no idea of, a black flat square that made his montrals prickle. The big thing that looked like a fattened chair but much larger and with pillows could be it, but he did not want to be wrong. Rue chewed his lip, then bowed his head in shame and apology, gesturing at the thing.
“Is…is this the couch? This one is sorry to ask.”
“No- No its okay I just didn’t know how to explain it.” Kerissa leant slightly, peering under the upper cupboard to where he was gesturing.
“Yeah that’s it!”
Internally, she cringed, but it was easy enough to hide that while letting the tea steep for a minute or so. Kark, would Rue even know what tea is? How would he like it? Oh kisting damned-
“Have you had tea before?”
Rue had let out a relieved breath at her confirmation and the assurance it was okay, then moved to the couch and…perched…on its edge. He kept getting up and perching again until he found the hardest spot, the arm, and then sat there and pulled his legs up to him, tucking into an upright ball.
“Yes,” he called in answer to her question. “Many teas from many plants. They are very useful for medicinal properties and cleansing. Also, nice.” He started fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, then nibbling on one finger. “This o– I can make it, with Hunyi. Before this it had been many years, as it was disallowed due to this one’s sins. But before that, it used to have teas. Grandmother taught me of them originally. From the garden.”
Kerissa physically bit her tongue to stop herself from pointing out that he couldn’t sin when he was a slave. Not even that. He could have stabbed the damned karkers in the eye and she’d still give him tea.
But that wasn’t productive or helpful.
“I have chamomile here. Do you like sugar in it, or anything?” It was a simple question, best to just move past that than try and address that mess at all. “I’m not sure what you like.”
That gave the hybrid pause. “I do not know what I like either more often than not, it seems now. I do not know if I have ever had sugar.” He had a feeling she did not mean the glucose converted from ingesting food and nutrients. “What is it like? And chamomile is lovely. It is calming and symbolizes patience in adversity. Thank you.”
“It makes things sweeter. I just like to add a little bit. If you want, I can do the same to yours? Or you can just have it as normal, it just needs to be added while it’s warm or it won’t mix in.”
“Oh, sweeter. Yes, then. It has had sweet grasses. These are nice. I would…like…to try it like you have it.” He turned enough to smile shyly at her from where she was half hidden.
“I have plenty. They come in really big bags if you go to the proper stores. I never did before and… might’ve overestimated how much I’d use.” Kerissa pulled down a tub, large in her hand, and putting a spoon of sugar into eahc one before placing the tub back into the cupboard. With the 3 others.
With no more sugar being scooped, she gave each cup a stir and stepped out with both cups and held one out to Rue.
The hybrid accepted the cup, a pleased mrrw issuing from him as his sole hand wrapped around the hot drink. He balanced it on his drawn up knees and clutched it close, dipping his face into to inhale the steam, basking in it, eyes falling peacefully closed as multihued, metallic lashes glittered.
“It smells lovely. Thank you,” he repeated. A purr began. “The hot drinks are a good thing. A very good thing.”
“They really are. I discovered coffee first. Hadn’t even heard of it before when someone gave me a cup. I got so much done that day.” Kerissa laughed lightly, moving past Rue to sit on the couch with a polite amount of space between them.
Rue smiled at her, just watching her laugh and smiling for it, then tilted his head as he asked, “What is coffee?”
“It’s a.. stimulant drink made from a specific crop that produces beans. They dry them out, process them, grind them up and they make a caffeinated drink.” Kerissa explained, sipping her tea.
“You can build a tolerance but it dehydrates you in excess.”
“Oh,” Rue said, which sounded more like mrwO. “That is interesting. I would be interested in learning about the chemical composition. Aside from teas, I have not had any stimulants in ‘drink’ form. Did you like it?”
He sipped too, as she had.
“It tasted good, and felt nice. I don’t think I’d like to drink it often though.” Kerissa answered, shrugging with the arm not holding a cup.
“They’re something to be had in measure, at any rate. Coffee isn’t as bad as some other stimulants or similar things but, well, they can be pretty nasty if you overdo them.”
Rue’s gaze unfocused, gone somewhere else in thought at that statement, and he simply said, “Yes. ‘Nasty.’” His grip on his tea grew a little laxer. He blinked very slowly. Twice. Then roused to drag his gaze back towards her chin. “I would like to try it, I think, if you liked it.”
“I don’t have any in but we can go get some, or I can buy the grounds and try making it here for us when you next visit.” Kerissa commented, watching him carefully. She knew what had happened, and reached out with a slow hand to rest on his shoulder blade, in hopefully comfort.
“Thankfully coffee isn’t anything like what.. that was. It’ll be okay.”
Rue might have startled a little at the touch, but having seen it coming, leaned into it easily, a gentle purr rising in his throat. He blinked slowly, processing what she said, and then shrugged. His shoulder blade shifting under her hand was sharp, stark with starving slowly improving.
“This one was actually thinking of…other things. With the Masters. On the Oval. That.” He grimaced slightly. “I– there was too much too fast? To feel? But other times…never the mind it. Apologies. This one does not wish to upset you.” He shook his head, and smiled. “Coffee would be…nice. Whatever you prefer, sweetpea. Going and the getting out the grounds. Is it difficult to cook?”
“You can talk about it. Me getting upset shouldn’t.. stop you from sharing. From talking.” Kerissa frowned slightly, uncomfortable.
Shed been trying to be better. To do better by him but so much of him represented what she’d run away from.
And what she’d left behind.
“Coffee isn’t any harder to make than tea.” She added on in a mumble afterward, giving space for him to move on if he didn’t want to, but not erasing the opportunity for him to share either. Hopefully.
Rue paused at that, his brave smile dimming slightly before it slowly dropped. His purring under her touch stuttered.
“This one– I…don’t…know?” he offered up eventually. He shifted slightly, recrossing his legs on his perch, tail curling to drape over his feet and lightly wrap around his bent legs. “It. When am I supposed to share things when not asked? You did not ask. Answering questions is easy. It is right.” He nodded, speaking the last in such a way that indicated this was an ingrained behavior, one of those expected of him. “But thi– I do not know if…I want to…talk? Or not? What is the purpose of sharing these things? Particularly if they are upsetting.”
“You like to know how I’m feeling. That’s natural, when you care for someone. Well, I want the same. But sometimes I don’t know if something’s wrong, and sometimes you won’t know if something is wrong with me. Sometimes I don’t like asking you, because you feel obligated to tell me and that’s… not right. You don’t have to share. But sharing can help you heal, if your feelings are hurt. It helps, feeling like you aren’t alone. It also means that others can help you, if you want them to. It’s complicated, really. I didn’t understand for a long time.”
Kerissa considered for a moment, before slipping into a tone she often found herself using when explaining things, “One thing I know some people do, is that they ask the other person is okay to listen to something upsetting. Then they can either say yes or no, and you know if they’re able to hear something like that.”
Rue listened intently, saffron gaze focused, eyes squinching slightly with a slight smile and that ardor she’d come to expect from him at the mention of how he liked to know her. And that she wanted to know about him.
“That seems…like a good thing to ask. Asking permission. This one is good at this.” He nodded to himself. “It– I. Do not always know what will be upsetting. These things…hurt feelings… they are not hurt, to me. They just are. All the hurt just is. Or most of it. As long as one does not think too long. But it has managed to make everyone it talks to so far cry or anger. All my friends. I do that when I answer.”
He frowned then, gripping the mug tighter and looking down in shame, frustration.
“Perhaps if I just ask if it is okay to listen to something upsetting first each time. Then it will be assured. And perhaps it will not be upsetting, and that is a happy surprise.” He glanced at her. “Do you feel okay for something upsetting?”
“I do.” Kerissa answered softly, “And.. us being angry at your hurt. It’s not us being angry at you for telling us. We’re just.. angry it happened to you. We care about you, so knowing you were hurt upsets us. In the same way that when you found out they were coming after me, you worried for me. We worry for you.”
The hybrid gnawed on his lip, unable to chew on his knuckles given he was holding a cup. He shrugged somewhat.
“I do not wish for more anger,” he murmured very softly. “I wish you did not feel it. That they had not made you angry. You deserved every happiness.” His eyes welled up and spilled over, chest hitching. “When it realized– it couldn’t let it happen. They couldn’t have you back. It had to do it. When you were gone. It was the happiest day of this one’s life, to know you were free. So it had to disobey, be bad, hurt.”
His grip was white-knuckled. He exhaled shakily.
“I’m so glad you have the tea and the coffee and the couch,” Rue whispered, looking back to her, sniffing. “I’m so glad you have a life, sweetpea.”
Kerissa felt her eyes well up.
“I’m glad you’re free now too, Rue. Nobody should have… what they did to us, I’m glad you disobeyed. Sometimes disobeying is the right thing to do. I thought the same thing for years, worried that I’d made the wrong decision but..” She shook her head, “Couches and teas and coffees are something everyone should get to have. You, Hunyi, me, the others…”
She didn’t want to remember the others. Rue had hinted at it and between the gaps of his pained tales she knew she’d been a part of his pain. Of their pain.
She held her cup closer to her chest, tail tucking in around her ankle.
Tears were already freely running down Rue’s cheeks when hers welled, as they so often did. He was a silent crier – for reasons probably just as awful as anything else about him – but an easy one.
“Yes…yes, the others…” he murmured, but didn’t go further. He didn’t want her to worry more. They would be alright. He wouldn’t let them be alone.
But that was a much larger venture, and not yet now.
Now, he watched Kerissa draw into herself and wobbled on his perch on the couch arm, toes flexing in his shoes to hold his balance there. It was only a moment of hesitation, reminding himself that this was allowed, encouraged, before he asked, “Would you like a hug?”
“I would.” Kerissa answered, placing her cup aside somewhat pecariously but she’d emptied it enough to not worry too much about it spilling.
She shifted to accomodate him, but didn’t approach. She’d rather he come to her, for him to have the choice on what kind of hug it was. It was in the small things that he’d learn that his wants mattered, even in as simple circumstances of how they held a hug.
Her fellow hybrid followed her lead in setting his mug carefully down on the table first, then looked at her open sitting stance. He stayed balanced where he was for a moment longer before creeping down onto the cushions properly one foot at a time and hand to brace like a cat. Then just as much like one he rushed forward that last foot of space, wrapping his good arm around under hers, the other pressing in top best it could. His head ducked, a fluid motion to rub their lightly scales cheeks together before his chin settled near the top of her head, nose tilting to her dyed hair.
At that distance, he could see the snowy white roots just visible above her scalp. Kerissa wrapped her arms around him, firm but not grasping too hard. She closed her eyes, tilting her head slightly and letting out a soft sigh of relief. Contentment.
The tears were still there, but that wasn’t so unusual these days.
A purr started in Rue’s chest, one she could feel, and it was oddly ✨healing✨. Soothing, warm. He nuzzled the top of her head with another cheek rub before placing a kiss, an echo of something taken.
His tail came around too, flopping with hers. It seemed natural to curl them. And if his purrs made wobbly a few hummed snatches of songs like forgotten dreams, then that was okay, just like the tears. These had happiness too, with the sad. Contentment.
They stayed that way for however long before shifting back a bit, moreso on Rue’s part, and regretfully. He could hold many bent poses for hours, days if directed to, but upright and stretching ones like their hug were still difficult for his muscles and joints; he started trembling with the effort and had to fall back on his haunches. He brushed her scalp one more time, fondly, before his shaking arm had to drop, and smiled at her, thumb brushing the silver roots.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, ever-sniffling and teary. “So healthy. This is very lovely, this color. I do not know how it is done. Is it a gift of Mother Moon? Or a science? Is it permanent? Do you like it? More than your white?” He hummed again, a different bar of notes. “You have your grandfather’s hair, did you know?”
Once released, Kerissa shifted away, just remembering to lift her tea cup off of the couch before leaning back. It was lukewarm now but it wasnt the worst thing she’d ever drank, sipping it as they settled.
Her grandfather. She resisted the slight wince.
“I.. guessed. He was a Ryn, afterall.” She tucked a leg back underneath the other. She wasn’t likely as healthy as he thought either, bottles of wine sitting in the cupboard and a pack of cigarras tucked away in a draw in her bedroom. Vices, but ones that made life easier. “It’s science, the pink. There are stores that focus on appearance, cosmetics. They sell a lot of things, make up which are powders and gels and liquids that you apply to your skin to alter the appearance. Paints for your nails and claws. And hair dyes, like dyeing clothes really but gentler. I have to reapply it regularly, but its just a solution you let sit on the hair for twenty or thirty minutes. When you wash it out, its stained the hair. With my hair being white, I can make it any colour really easily, its nice.”
The hybrid listened raptly, scrabbling for his bag as soon as she said “science” to pull out a notebook – dislodging many others that spilled open and closed on the floor, herbs, and several small stones – in order to write this down.
“That is fascinating,” he commented, not needing to look to make the letters. A decade had made this hand his dominant one. He looked back to Kerissa, peering more closely at her hair and her face. “Do you like also the powders and gels? What is the purpose for altering appearance? Is it like how we are to hide ourselves and our hair when we travel?”
“It can be, but most people use it to just make themselves feel prettier. I began dyeing my hair for discretion but nowadays I just prefer how I look with pink hair. Some people like to alter their features for similar reasons, to look nicer. For some its just flair, others its to boost their confidence.” She answered succinctly.
“It can clog your pores if left on too long, but generally unless misapplied is harmless to do and is like its own art form. I have some in my room, but I only use it on occassion.”
Rue blinked slowly along to this information. He noted it down, putting a special note next to the pores part, and then looked back up, starting to chew on his knuckle where he held the pen.
“I do not understand…the feeling of prettiness. Or confidence.” He gnawed a bit harder. “This one knows of the definitions and understands them. It encourages them. It witnesses them. You are beautiful and brave and brilliant. My litluns were and are all beautiful. The Goddess is beautiful. But to know it is not a thing of this one. It– I…find it confusing. An abstract.” He was biting hard now, between sentences. “It I saw its reflection several times now. I do not…know what to think, except to do the hiding, as we must.”
Kerissa wanted to kill them all. The Dark Side clawed at her insides, a coldness that crawled up her veins, stabbing a pick every few millimetres and encroaching, pushing further, spreading- Her nails dug into her hands. It stung but the cold wouldn’t leech away.
How dare they
She kept her eyes down, hoping to contain it to not show him. It wasn’t fair it wasn’t his fault. He felt like everything was his fault but it was them. They took anything he could have been and crushed it to nothing without a thought. How the kark do you teach someone to be a person? How to respect themselves, to know that they are worth when all they’ve been taught is that they are nothing.
What do you build from nothing?
Tears ran freely as she sat there, encased from within with ice. It was as if they were melting from her eyes, becoming liquid on impact with the air. “You. Are. Beautiful. Rue. Your hair is like the sunrise. Your freckles are as dainty and cute as mine. Your eyes have the same kindness of Hunyi’s. Whenever you smile I want to too. Confidence is you knowing that. It’s knowing yourself. It’s knowing who you are and holding yourself close.”
What had she built from nothing? Her mind hadn’t been her own, her body had been used as a weapon. Everything she’d had wasn’t hers. Her blood was melting too, tiny streams barely sputtering free onto her nails.
“No one should have to hide. Even us.”
Rue wasn’t blind; not to get anguish, not in the snowdrop whitening of her knuckles and the poppy scarlet of her blood; not to the cold in the air, in their bones, in the magic of the weave around them, moonlight and earth and song. Her anger choked him.
He smiled to her, for her, crying too and leaning in to embrace again. His notebook and pen slid out of his lap. His one hand held hers, blood they’d both drawn and blood they shared commingling. He couldn’t hug very well, so he settled for pressing their foreheads together, nuzzling her running nose.
“I have known you over and over again and anew, and each time, you have always been this kind to me,” he murmured. “You have always made me want to smile. This one always knew itself before, felt sure in that. But I this promise… What this one is learning now, to have more of itself …myself…I will remember what you say. Not to hide.” His wet eyes crinkled. “I love our freckles. I love you, sweetpea.”
Kerissa swallowed, trying to clear the lump in her throat but it wouldn’t shift. It was trapped in place.
What words were there couldn’t shift the damn.
She unclenched a hand, the one he was tucked up again, freeing her nails of her palms and wrapping the limb around him. He was warmth. A morning filled with dew and blossoming flowers.
Yet her darkness was overwhelming. It had been crafted that way afterall, grown and encouraged. It took everything it was allowed to dig into.
But it was okay.
The words I love you were passed to him through her forehead pressing into his shoulder. They’d come another time when the frost finally melted, though she’d hold onto the remant chill. There’d be no blanket or furnace.
Neither of them would need to hide anymore.