Chapter 11
Eris
I’m taking off my armour
so I can hold you better.
Please, don’t hurt me.
― Micheal Poetry
This was why she didn’t date.
Connecting with strangers was too hard. She couldn’t handle so many little things that were hard enough to explain with her voice, let alone without it.
Don’t touch me.
Don’t be so loud.
Don’t talk over someone else.
Don’t stand so close.
Malik and Noah were probably the most lovable men she’d ever met.
Fun, polite, willing to respect her boundaries and even apologise for their missteps.
Eris liked them. Genuinely. Noah had good-natured casanova vibes and Malik was a goofy jock, both personality traits that she found endearing.
Perhaps she might’ve fancied one of them, or even both, if Denny hadn’t ruined it for everyone in the foreseeable future.
Denny had patiently learned how to move and act around her, what to say and not to say, to do and not to do, just by paying attention.
It meant the world to Eris, who struggled with words more often than not.
She couldn’t rule out that Malik and Noah could learn that, too, but, beyond that, there was a fundamental obstacle: you couldn’t fill a cup that was already full.
The date had been pleasant. Eris didn’t hate the idea of going out with the twins again. She had never had friends before.
For the entirety of the morning, she’d tried to keep up with the conversation, but her senses kept tuning back on Denny, who had been strangely nervous since they’d left the house.
Something was off with her, and Eris couldn’t focus on anything else.
Her sweet Denny made of sunlight, made of joy, made of warmth…
So dimmed out she was barely recognisable.
By the time they left the café, Eris’ nerves were rattling, too. Too many people, too many noises. She proposed a walk in Regent’s Park to decompress, which Denny passively agreed to.
Eris tried, really tried, to mind her own business, but she couldn’t bear to see Denny like that.
When she asked what was going on, she wasn’t expecting Denny to go and candidly break her heart.
“Am I… too much?”
An old bloodlust awakened in Eris’ veins at that heartsick tone. This wasn’t Denny. Who had put this nonsense in her head?
WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT
Who said that
I’m gonna cut them
Only someone who didn’t know Denny could think such crap about her. Anyone who spoke ill of Denny Alabi needed to repent and beg for forgiveness.
“No one. I just—” Denny paused to read Eris’ retort.
Do you think I wouldn’t tell you if I found you VEXING?
It only made her sigh.
“I know I’m a handful.”
Cold wind swept the park, bringing out the bright pink in Denny’s wet cheeks. Eris wanted to grab her and shake her and yell at her for thinking she was anything but wonderful.
You ARE
But that’s not a you problem, Sunshine
It’s on whoever can’t handle you
And that’s someone you don’t want in your life
Be as big a handful as you like, I can take it
Denny sniffled at the tirade, peering up at Eris with glossy eyes.
Eris plopped down at her side, placing a tissue into her hand. She threaded her fingers through the blond waves, stroking the anxiety away while Denny dabbed at her waterline in between a quiet sob and the next.
So dramatic, Eris mused fondly. Seeing anyone else crying would’ve made her uncomfortable. Seeing Denny crying made her want to destroy everything within a mile radius.
We really need that ‘you’re an idiot’ card
It was meant to be a joke, but, in the state she was in, Denny mistook it as a reproach.
“I know, I’m sor—”
Eris pulled her into her arms. Denny was a couple of inches taller, but her head slotted flawlessly into the crook of Eris’ neck. Her lean body felt deceptively fragile; Eris still held on tight, knocking the wind and the sobs out of Denny.
The air smelled like rain. A raging storm with thunder and lightning couldn’t have scared Eris away from this bench.
There was even a possibility that rain could’ve made this moment even better.
They weren’t that far from home: they could probably get drenched and get changed before catching a cold.
Or not. Eris didn’t really care. If Denny didn’t move, she wouldn’t, either.
A light drizzle was falling. Denny was clutching Eris’ flannel shirt as if afraid she would pull away; little did she know that Eris was ready to die here, cradling her in her arms, neck wet with her tears.
Denny spewed out everything that was troubling her. It may or may not be nice to hear the plethora of reasons why Denny was so afraid to lose Eris. All unfounded, of course, but still: Denny didn’t want to lose her.
“There’s that anxious chunk of my brain that can’t stop thinking that you secretly can’t stand me. I’d hate to lose you because I’m a nuisance.”
Eris held her, wiping the tears as Denny hiccuped. She looked so damn kissable, puffy eyes, snot, and all.
“I swear I’m doing my best to hold myself back. The last thing I want is to drive you away…”
Whatever was left of Eris’ composure crumbled. She was brimming with foreign emotions she didn’t know how to handle. They built up, swelled in her chest and popped like a bubble, ricocheting so deep inside her that something snapped in the dark recesses of her subconscious.
“Denny.”
Eris almost didn’t recognise the sound of her own voice. Soft, husky. Oozing love.
Love.
How could this be her?
“But I forget—you know I always forget about everything—”
“Denny.”
“I try not to be like this, but I can never—”
“DENNY.”
Denny froze in her arms, moon-eyed and incredulous as realisation slowly dawned on her.
It felt so good to say her name out loud. Eris just wanted to keep saying it, over and over, to make up for all the times she’d rocked it in her head, all the times she’d heard her own name painted by Denny’s loving voice and she’d wished to return that affection.
Tentatively, Denny reached out. Desperate for that touch, Eris pressed her palm to her own cheek, leaning into it with a bashful smile.
“Hey,” Denny murmured with such awe that Eris felt a crushing responsibility to live up to it, to be whoever Denny’s eyes saw when they looked at her like that.
“Hey,” she echoed, just as awed. Denny’s hand was cold. Eris slotted her own fingers between hers, offering her warmth.
Denny was so close, lips slightly parted to show a glimpse of perfect white teeth, and there was this haunting longing in her expression…
Eris wasn’t used to that—feeling loved. The only person who had ever truly loved her had been gone for fifteen years.
For those fifteen years, the word love had disappeared from her vocabulary, too hard to obtain, too costly to give away.
And now there was this angel in her arms, begging her to let this beautiful thing that had been quietly budding between them just happen.
Why, Sunshine? What did I do to deserve this look?
Their lips skimmed. Eris’ smile crooked up on one side.
She was tempted to keep this moment as it was, simple and perfect, something she couldn’t spoil.
She had never kissed anyone she cared about.
There were too many things she wanted to say but didn’t know the right words for.
Used as she was to living inside herself, explaining how she felt didn’t come naturally.
She wasn’t good at showing it, either, but she could try. For Denny, she could do anything.
She pulled Denny closer, nudging her nose with the tip of her own in an unspoken question.
A hungry gaze dropped to her mouth.
Eris smiled.
“Forgive me for doubting you, Denny.” Then, just as Denny lit up with a spark of recognition, she surged forward to pull her into a kiss that shattered the last surviving vestige of her self-control.
Overrun by a fierce protective impulse, Eris brushed Denny’s lips with slow, soft pecks, kissing the salt and the cold away, a hand buried in Denny’s hair and an arm around her waist. If she’d held Denny as hard as she wanted to, she might’ve crushed her bones.
Denny’s lips were warm now, but the salt persisted.
“Sorry,” she muttered when Eris pulled back to check on her. She hastily wiped her eyes with the cuff of her cardigan.
“Why are you apologising?” Eris all but laughed. “I kissed you.”
“I manipulated you with these stupid tears.”
“Jesus, Denny…” Denny cringed, once again mistaking Eris’ reaction for reproval. “Do you realise how long I’d wanted to kiss you?” Eris urged her to look up at her. “I couldn’t have listened to you being so unfair to yourself for one more second.”
A feeble smile slipped across Denny’s lips. Her irises were dark, today, the brown halo around the pupils almost invisible. “I’m sor—”
Eris gave her cheeks a squeeze. “Stop. Apologising.” She kissed a fresh tear away. “Seriously. Don’t do that.”
She needed to remember to recalibrate her curtness. Denny had this tendency to see critique even where none was intended and internalise it.
“Denny.” Another tear, another kiss. “You’re allowed to cry.
Having feelings is not manipulation, it’s bloody human nature.
” Anger seethed under Eris’ skin. One more tear fell.
Eris kissed that away, too, wishing she could climb into Denny’s soul and wrench away that unfair guilt that was making it so heavy. “Who the fuck did this to you?”
She could pinpoint the exact moment when someone flashed across Denny’s mind.
It was right there, in her widening eyes, in how her breath hitched.
There was a culprit, and that culprit could only pray Eris never discovered their name, because she was ready to rip the life out of them with her bare teeth.
“I’ll tell you about it.” Denny sniffed. She blew her nose, then gazed up. “Another day. One we can ruin with unpleasant stories.” She rubbed a small circle on Eris’ chest “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being so good to me.”
This was Denny’s concept of someone being good to her? Basic human decency? The bar wasn’t low: it was inexistent.