Vivian
Ida stared into the chaos of her new home with a finger over her lips. All around us, her possessions were strewn about, yet to find their place. “Theo, dear, can you move the sewing machine by the window? I prefer the natural light.”
“Of course,” Theo said, picking up the heavy desk and moving it to the far-left side of the room.
The last six days had been lonely. Theo was away mostly, carrying Ida’s belongings down the mountain to her new apartment.
It left me plenty of time—alone, in my newly completed cabin—to garden and mourn our time together as it slipped away.
Curse my short legs for not being able to keep up.
I had really wanted to go with him on these trips, but I didn’t want to be selfish and slow down Ida’s transition.
Better to ween off his company now, anyways; it would be entirely gone soon.
That thought didn’t help. It just made my chest ache.
In the name of not coercing him to give up his entire life—friends, house, his own business—I’d been avoiding the topic of “the end” as much as possible. And now, here we were.
I’d tagged along on the last trip of getting Ida settled. After this, Theo would be escorting me back to my field… and it would be over. My heart shattered every time I imagined watching him disappear through the feathery, pale green border of wheat.
Not only would he be gone, but Ida would be in Drifael.
I’d truly be alone. The thought never bothered me before; people had never been my priority; I was too busy taking care of myself.
But Theo wasn’t just any person to me. Not anymore.
His company had grown to represent security just as much as the roof over my head and the food in my stomach.
“Vivian?”
“What?”
Ida held out a handful of coins in front of me. I blinked a few times, centering myself. Had she been standing there long? “Could you go grab us something to eat from that café down the street? I was drooling when we passed it earlier.”
“Oh, sure.”
“I can go, Viv,” Theo offered, all four hands in the middle of unpacking a heavy trunk.
“No, I only have half as many arms as you for moving furniture and unboxing.” I was already on my way to the door, hoping I could run from the thoughts I’d been festering in. “Any special requests?”
“I’m not picky.” Theo’s expression was stoic, observant. He’d been trying to read through the lines of my curt responses and feigned smiles all day.
“You know what I like. Thank you, dear!” Ida waved, already back to mulling over where to put her things.
It was nice out—not stormy or blazingly hot for once.
A subtle reminder that winter was four days away.
I didn’t think it was possible to dislike the snow more than last star cycle, but I truly fucking resented it now.
I’d be trapped. An ironic thought since I’d be “trapped” in my home with my cat, exactly where I’d always wanted to be.
I’d entertained moving in with Ida for a moment but couldn’t stomach the idea of losing the very thing I’d always wanted.
No way had Theo gotten me so in my own feelings that I suddenly wanted companionship more than a home.
We all benefitted from this plan. I got a place to call mine and a sense of security.
Ida got community and empowerment. Theo paid his stupid fucking imaginary debt to make up for killing too many people who probably deserved it anyways.
Yay for us! Bitterness still nipped at me as I kicked a stone down the street.
The café was cute, small. Quaint in a pleasant way, with just enough room to stand and order in front of the counter. The warm, welcoming scents of baked goods and savory herbs surrounded me.
I avoided eye contact with the Quadmos taking my order. Of course it had to be another Quadmos. God forbid I have a break from thinking about Theo for five seconds.
“It’ll be a few minutes,” they smiled.
“No rush. Thank you.”
I stepped out of the way for other customers and stared down at my feet.
Now would be a great time to have my busted-up smart phone for scrolling.
Fuck, maybe I’d download a dating app for the first time in my life.
Set my location to “top of the fucking mountain, but worth the trip”. I snorted at my own inner monologue.
“What’s funny?” a voice asked.
“Sorry, nothing,” I grimaced sheepishly, hoping the man waiting at the unattended counter didn’t think I was laughing at him.
He hummed. “Have we met?”
I looked at the seafoam-streaked Mercurian.
It wasn’t so much that I recognized him, as much as I remembered how he stood out from everyone else I saw in Drifael.
He dressed nicer, a little more modern. Honestly, he looked like someone I might see walking around New York.
Something about him was more human than other person I’d met on this planet.
I stole a glance at the ear holes of his species. Not human.
“Wait, don’t tell me. It started with a ‘V’ right?” he grinned, his well-groomed scruff dimpling.
“Vivian,” I confirmed.
“I knew it! I recognized your necklace.” He gestured to the collar around my throat.
Memories of our meeting trickled back. “Right. Did your sister like the tool you got?” What was it? Scissors… or something?
“Wow, you remember that! Yeah, it was the right one. That feels like a lifetime ago, what a busy summer.”
“You’re telling me,” I muttered.
“Order for Vivian!” The store clerk reappeared and set a large paper bag down on the counter.
“Good to see you again.” I smiled at the man politely.
I grabbed the hefty, grease-soaked bag and turned for the doorway.
“What’s the name?” the Quadmos asked.
“Cassius. I’d like to order a…”
Ida had made herself known in the community the moment she moved in, re-acquainting with old friends and quickly making new ones. Every time I turned my back, she found someone else to talk to. This errand was no exception.
As I approached the duplex, I found Ida chatting with a Thornian woman around her age who held the hand of a small, gray Arielna child. Her front door squeaked open and Theo stepped out, joining the mix as I did.
“Alright, Ida, I finished with the pantry. What’s next?” When his eyes landed on the child, his shoulders tensed subtly. Odd.
The little boy leaned back to look all the way up at Theo. “Why are you feral?” he asked, pointing to Theo’s tattoos.
Theo hugged his own arms as if… insecure? His shoulders hunched, making himself smaller.
Knowing the emotional weight of that question, I intervened. “He’s not angry, it’s just how he looks.” I patted Theo’s arm to demonstrate his docility.
“Oh, ok!” the kid agreed without further questioning.
“So, you just come on by whenever!” Ida was mid conversation. “I can absolutely stitch up those pants like new!”
“How much?” the woman asked.
“No charge. It’ll take me five minutes and I’m looking forward to having visitors. Bring anything else that needs a little love and I’ll take a look.”
I glanced at Theo. His eyes were directed at the boy, but he looked right through him.
The small child must have thought his days were numbered; he was being stared down by a seven-foot giant with anger tattoos on his skin. He stepped behind the grown Thornian woman and peeked out at Theo.
“Theo, get the door for me?” I asked quickly. I didn’t need the help, but clearly Theo did. Weird. He was usually so socially aware and pleasant with strangers.
We stepped into the small house and I set the bag down. Theo just stood there, staring at nothing. Three arms wrapped around himself, the fourth scratched at the scar above his ear as if wanting to claw it off.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I asked, placing both hands on his chest. I knew I shouldn’t be using pet names with him, but I couldn’t help it in moments like this when my heart reached out for his.
“Nothing’s wrong.” His tone was flat.
“Sure,” I sighed. Ida was about to walk in through the door. It was a lost cause to try discussing this now. “Do you want to go for a walk or something? You don’t look too hot. I can take it from here.”
The suggestion he stop helping seemed to click something into place. His eyes flickered towards a more present awareness, but his pleasantly fake expression didn’t fool me. “Really, I’m good. Thanks for grabbing us lunch. Let me show you what I’ve done so you know where everything is.”
The kinks in my neck were brutal. Was I already that spoiled from sleeping on a mattress again?
Laying on nothing but blankets and furs last night had done a number on me.
I considered crawling on top of Theo more than once for comfort but didn’t want Ida to walk in on that.
Plus, I knew the moment I settled into him I’d start crying at the idea of never sleeping on top of him again.
Theo had left to run errands at the crack of dawn, slipping out before I could join.
I leaned on Ida’s new counter, nursing a cup of Trebianna-edition coffee.
She’d also been up bright and early, as signaled by the soft sounds of her moving about.
Cabinets had opened and closed. Her chair in the kitchen squeaked against the tile when she pivoted back and forth between stove and low countertops.
Water ran in the shower, conveniently made with a bench for her to sit on.
She'd been making good use of every feature of her new home.
I hadn’t seen Ida so empowered—so light—since I met her. There’d always been a shroud of frustration at her amputation and that burden seemed lessened here. Not gone, but improving. Hopeful.
Now, Ida sat in her rocking chair, knitting away. “You’ve found yourself a good male,” she said.
I nearly choked on my coffee. “I haven’t found anything.”
“Oh please, I didn’t lose my eyes, Vivian.”
“Well, maybe get them checked,” I muttered. “Theo is walking me back to my field and then getting back to his life up north.”
She scoffed. “You don’t think he won’t have to come back to pay for this house sometimes? Sounds like a lot of trouble for someone who doesn’t intend to stay in the area…”
“Maybe he’ll send a check in the mail.” Did checks even exist here?
An ember of hope crackled in my chest, and I wanted to douse it in rainwater.
I hated that Ida was trying to fan the flames.
Now she was praising Theo? Where was the pessimism she had for him when we thought he was dead in a pile of snow?
It’d been a pleasant surprise when he showed up alive, and I hadn’t spent all of winter holding out for potential devastation.
Daytime starlight spilled into the room as Theo walked through the door, his massive frame barely making it through the threshold.
“That should be everything. I’ve left an emergency stash of coins behind that cabinet if you find yourself in a pinch during the winter. Don’t think twice, just use what you need,” Theo said as he did a final walk-through inspection. As if Mr. List was capable of dropping the ball.
“I’ll pay it all back once I get my shop going,” Ida said confidently. The sewing trade seemed competitive in this town, but with her experience and history with the locals, she may have an advantage.
“You ready to hit the road?” Theo asked me, tightening the straps of his bag.
“Mhm.” I got up and gave Ida a big hug. Only fifty-ish days before I saw her again, but I’d grown so attached to my friend, even that felt too long.
I’d be spending the winter doing squats, leg lifts, and calf-ups in my cabin to make sure I was strong enough to make trips to Drifael on my own periodically—weather accommodating.
There were a lot of “don’t worry about me”s, and “next time we can”s, and “did you remember to grab your”s before we made it out the door.
Most painfully of all, was the “take care of her” that was less than quietly whispered to Theo when he bent down to give Ida a hug.
I was very intentionally not putting a moral burden on him to stay with me.
Hopefully his principled ass didn’t decide he owed Ida a debt, or my efforts just flew out the window.
As we approached the woods, Theo came to a halt. “Alright, Little Goddess. You ready to hitch a ride?” His arms opened expectantly.
I knew I’d only slow us down if I insisted on walking, and we were far past physical boundaries.
I stepped to him and was scooped off my feet into his cradle.
I tried to remind myself that this was strictly platonic.
After all, he’d carried Ida the same way yesterday.
Well… the way he clutched me to him was decidedly different.
His hands weaved into my hair, spanned my hip, and held me tight against his chest. Okay, he hadn’t been carrying Ida like this.
“I’ve missed our time together,” he eventually said.
“The garden came together nicely.” I swerved away from the touchy-feely remark. “I’m well stocked for the winter. It’ll be nice to have hot stew sometimes instead of blackberries for every meal.”
His expression fell as he looked ahead. He’d probably expected me to return the sentiment. “I’m glad. Is there anything I can help with before I leave tomorrow?”
My teeth ground together so hard I thought they may shatter. I turned my head away from him and let my hair fall into my face, concealing the tears threatening to form. Not only did I miss him the last few days, but I was already mourning the loss of his company.
“Nothing comes to mind.”