You sit on the edge of your hive, looking down into the canyon. It’s peaceful here, when the screams stop. Even as strong of will and unnerving you might think yourself, the sounds that Vriska’s lusus makes when she starts to feed gives you nightmares. Now however, the lusus is merely wrapping up the leftovers.
You would relax a little more, but the pain radiating up from your palms prevents that, indigo stains spreading through the neat white bandages. You feel a wash of anger mixed with meloncholy at the sight of it. The anger, for once, is directed at yourself.
You lost your temper again.
For the first time in the long years you had known each other, she had come to see you. And unlike every other person you had ever met, or seen, she did not recoil in horror at the sight of you, or the way you stared at her short stature and wavy hair. Instead, she smiled. And not for the first time, but the first time face to face, you felt that seething rage in your heart falter.
You had sat together, she making tea with sugar and you discussing, at length your newest musclebeast poster. And she listened- she didn’t understand, but she listened, a small smile on her face the whole time, eyes full of love and life and wonder as she sat near you and made you feel so damn STRONG.
And then you lost your temper.
She had made a comment about bringing back dinner- some sort of fauna, and you had told her that you found the idea reprehensible. She had laughed it off, thinking you kidding, and it just made you mad. It came up like a storm, and you found yourself yelling. And unlike any of the others, she yelled right back, and the strength you saw in her yellow eyes was as much as your own, and…
You were afraid. She couldn’t be cowed- wouldn’t be. And it scared you that you were maybe not as strong as you thought.
And so you found yourself, in that rage, hurling the table aside and scattering the dishes you had bought, trying to frighten her, chase her off- but there was no fear- she rose up, her eyes boring into you as she rose up to her full height, barely up to your chin, and give a hissing growl in response.
And then she had spun on her foot, and stormed off. As she went, you felt relief as you turned back to the broken remains of the table and your shared meal and saw a package wrapped with a bow that she had brought and you’d thought nothing off. It was broken open, and you leaned down to look inside .
Broken chunks of olive porcelain sat within, the remains of a teapot she had brought you- and on the side, in bright colors of chalk, a drawing of you both, arms forming a diamond with the word ‘moirails.’ above.
"Equius?" She’s still here. You turn back, glad for the broken glasses that hide your eyes, which were welling up a little now. STRONG feelings wash over you and you stumble upright and take a nervous step back towards her.
"Er…um. Fiddlesticks, I never meant to…I really b100 my top there, huh? Please forgive my behavior, and of course I understand if you never want to see me again."
You don’t have time to respond as she pounces on you, knocking you onto your back. Fierce yellow eyes scowl down at you as she sits back on your stomach.
"Shut up, you creep. You’re a big, stupid meanie, but it doesn’t mean I don’t wanna see you again." Your heart does a few flip flops. "I just wish you hadn’t broken all of our stuff. I had gotten you the purrfect gift." She smiles shyly now, all flushed green with pale embarrassment.
It’s your turn to smile now. You gently lift her off of you and set her on the ground and pick up the poorly repaired teapot. It’s cracked, and several pieces are covered in blue blood where you had cut yourself on them. but all the stinging and blood is worth the look on her face. And you mirror the smile with broken teeth and mumble, awkwardly.
"You gave me the purrfect gift just by being you, Nepeta. I’d love you to be my moirail. I even..uh. Got you something too." You hand her the hat you had found, a deep indigo, the traditional gift of the protector to his pacifier, hoping, praying that you’ve not damaged the pale bond beyond repair.
And she leaps on you again, hanging around your neck with the hat in her hands and gently paps your back as she plants butterfly kisses on your cheek, and for the first time, you think that maybe, someday, you could learn to never lose your temper again.
publishing this for the author’s sake and also because I love it, though they told me I didn’t have to draw anything in return (for which I am sorry and eternally thankful)