Good Ribbons
Chapter seven
Cya
Dex lived on the district line between Gluttony and Lust. Literally.
On one side of the street, where his building stood, was Gluttony, whereas the buildings on the opposite side of the street had Lust addresses.
The buildings were tall and rather narrow, the stones weathered from time and nature.
Vines of black and blue flora crept up the facades like varicose veins, embedding themselves into the mortar until they were just as much a part of the building as the bricks.
Street lamps cast dull halos of light over the uneven, cracked sidewalk Dex led Cya down, and his body rocked with his long strides, arms bouncing as his hands gripped his backpack straps. His elbow knocked their arm every now and then, regardless of how tightly they curled into themself.
He was simply too… much. For the narrow sidewalk. For public decorum. For Cya.
Growing up, they’d learned to be genteel, to be graceful, to be gifted and accomplished and perfect. But never too loud, never too big, never too much or else it would shatter the illusion. Confined and controlled, every movement rehearsed, every smile practiced.
But Dex? His steps were bouncing and heavy, and his arm movements were wide. He embodied the space he existed in, every expression big, every word unfiltered. Every single thing about him, audible or not, was loud.
Cya couldn’t remember the last time they’d let themself be loud.
“So Jasmyn is voice-off,” Dex said as he climbed the steps to the entrance of what Cya assumed was his building. “She can read lips pretty well, so make sure you’re looking at her when you talk and try not to mumble.”
Slightly offended, Cya frowned. “I don’t mumble.”
Holding the door open with one hand, he gave them a thumbs-up with the other. “Cool. That’ll work out great.”
“Voice-off means she doesn’t speak, correct?” they clarified, following the Lupyn to a wall of metal mailbox slots.
“Right.” He unlocked one of the mailboxes and retrieved the mail inside.
Flipping through it, he added letters to his backpack and threw magazines and advertisements into the trashcan by the entrance.
“Some Deaf folks take speech training and stuff so they can navigate a hearing world better. Some are voice-on in public but voice-off at home. But Jas is…”
Dex trailed off, staring down at a letter with messy handwriting, and his tail lowered to tuck between his legs. Paper crinkled as his grip tightened, like it was taking all his self-control not to crush it. A quiet whine sounded in the back of his throat, and his normally perky ears lowered.
Hesitantly, Cya slunk closer and glanced down at the letter. It was addressed to Jasmyn. In the corner, where there was normally a return address, there were only three letters. Dad.
“Dex?” they asked softly.
As if he’d temporarily forgotten about their presence entirely, he startled, dropping the letter to the floor. “Shit. Sorry, what was I saying?”
“Jas is?” they prompted as he bent over and snatched the letter off the floor.
“Uh, right. Jas is voice-off all the time, but I’ll translate,” he said as he half-heartedly smoothed the wrinkles in the envelope before he added the letter to his backpack.
He dumped the rest of the spam mail into the garbage before he zipped his bag closed and slipped it back over one shoulder. When he faced Cya once more, his smile looked a little forced, the usual glow in his eyes dimmer than it had been a minute ago.
They stared at each other for a moment, and Dex shifted his weight awkwardly. Since Cya was well-versed in ignoring uncomfortable situations, they gestured to the lift and said, “Shall we?”
“Oh, the lift’s been broken for months. We gotta take the stairs.”
He headed to the door to the stairwell, and they glumly trailed after him. They could navigate stairs, of course, but they were slow. Ramps were easier on their tail muscles, hence why so many Sypents fitted their homes with numerous ramps instead of staircases.
Since Cya had been raised with poise and grace, they didn’t complain as they followed him into the stairwell. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for your landlord not to fix the lift,” they said as they started up after him. “You should complain.”
Dex snorted. “The building’s owned by a huge rental corporation from Greed. It’s illegal for them to do a lot of things, but that’s never stopped them before. Plus, the super that takes care of things for them is lazy AF.”
“Then you should sue.”
“With what lawyer and what money?”
Like he had earlier in the cafe, he didn’t speak with malice or accusation. He was simply stating facts, acknowledging the reality he existed within. It still made them feel guilty.
“It’s from my dad, by the way,” Dex said when they reached the second floor landing, and Cya didn’t have to ask what he meant. “He sends us birthday cards sometimes, but they’re always late. Jas turned thirteen two months ago.”
Hand on the railing, they waited as he scuffed the floor, hands tucked into the pockets of his swishy shorts.
“And it’s like, why does he even bother, you know?
If he genuinely cared, he’d send cards on our actual birthdays, wouldn’t he?
” He looked at them like they had answers, but for the life of them, they couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“I mean, it’s not like I need a birthday card from him.
I think I’d rather he not try at all, if I’m being honest. Easier for all of us. ”
Words eluded them, so Cya remained silent, nails digging into the wooden railing until their fingers ached. His unashamed vulnerability made them itch until they wanted to peel off their skin entirely. Why was he talking about this now? With them? They barely knew each other.
“He’d still remember when our birthdays are, right?”
Again, he stared at them like they knew, and they croaked out an awkward, “I don’t know, Dex.”
“We’re better off without him. He was never a very good dad.” Hiking his bags higher, he started ascending the staircase to the next floor. “I just wish he’d leave us alone, you know? He’s the one who left, so why can’t he just stay gone?”
Cya didn’t think he was asking them this time, but they found themself saying, “Sometimes, parents are selfish. Sometimes, they’re not who they’re supposed to be. They don’t always know it, but sometimes, they do, and they don’t know how to handle that, so they make it everyone else’s problem.”
Dex slowed to a stop mid-step, ears lowering as he stared at them. They swallowed thickly, fingers drumming against the railing.
“Or maybe,” they continued when he didn’t speak, “your father’s an asshole who only cares about himself, and he never loses a wink of sleep over the pain he causes you or your sister or your mother.
Because then, at least, you’ll remember him, because hurt and bad memories are better than being forgotten entirely. ”
A long silence stretched, and Cya endured it, chest tight, hands clutching the railing until their fingers shrieked. And Dex, he stared right at them, gaze boring into theirs.
Unable to meet his eyes, they looked away. To the sign next to the door with a large number three on it. To the stained concrete in the corner. To the flickering fluorescent lightbulb overhead. Then back to Dex, and deities below, why was he still staring at them?
“Are your parents selfish?” he asked, and though the question made Cya want to rip out their hair, at least the crushing silence was broken.
They swallowed once. Twice. Then they wobbled their head in something akin to a nod.
Dex’s hand twitched, like he wanted to reach out and touch them, but he didn’t. He fisted his hand at his side instead.
He said, “Sorry your parents suck.”
They said, “I’m sorry your father left.”
Inhaling deeply, he nodded, then exhaled in rush. “Eh, good ribbons. He sucked too.”
They had to bite their bottom lip to stave off a smile as they cleared their throat. “Riddance. It’s good riddance.”
Dex blinked at them, then his face broke into a wide grin and he laughed. “I don’t know what riddance means.”
“I think it means the removal of something.”
“That makes more sense than ribbons,” he said, and Cya snorted, rubbing the smirk from their lips with two fingers.
And just like that, the heavy atmosphere shattered, and Dex was smiling again.
His ears raised and his tail swished gently.
Then he waved his hand for them to follow him as he started up the next flight of stairs.
The rest of their ascent to the sixth floor was silent, save for the soft laughter rumbling through the Lupyn’s chest.
Finally, they reached the sixth floor, and Cya glared at Dex as he waited for them on the landing.
Panting and sweaty, they did their best to hold their chin high as they struggled the last few steps.
They swiped their hair out of their damp face and silently dared Dex to tease them for their slow pace and general lack of athleticism.
The Lupyn was smart enough to keep quiet, even if he was unable to smother his entertained grin. Climbing six floors every time they studied here was not going to be their future; they wouldn’t allow it.
“What’s your address?” they demanded as they leaned against the wall to catch their breath.
“Why?” Dex opened the door to the stairwell and held it for them.
They didn’t move through it. Instead, they pulled out their phone. “So Hemersyn knows where to pick me up.”
“Oh, right.”
Dex rattled off his address, and Cya texted it to Hemersyn along with a request.
[Cya] Can you find out who owns the building and demand they fix the lift? Bribe them if you have to.
[Hemersyn] Do I dare ask why?
It’s broken, and I refuse to climb six flights of stairs again. It’s entirely humiliating!
Ah, yes, your life is very difficult, indeed.
Eat glass.
Good to know you took your etiquette classes to heart.