Work Text:
Quiet.
It's so quiet out here.
The whole town feels muted, washed away.
Like those drawings the two of them had made earlier, the scribbles in the window both nostalgic and new.
Even here, by the water, it's hushed.
Still, the world had become, in the sleep of night, in the aftermath of rain.
If Kris strains their ear, they can hear the slightest motion of the waves, and the dripping of water off the leaves, and the few brave crickets remerging after the storm.
But mostly, they hear Susie. Her breathing, measured, her claws tapping against the sand.
The sound is like a blanket wrapped around them, the one warmth to cling to after being fished out of icy water.
They cast a glance at her out of the corner of their eye. After everything, they're not sure they could take her teasing them for staring.
After everything, they know that she won't. Not now, anyway.
But still, hiding behind their bangs, and blank expression, and the quiet muffle of the world around them.
Sound, again, ostinato in the rustle of the leaves, in the slightest of breeze.
It still leaves them feeling cold. Not that it's anything new, that chill.
The wind always seems to sweep from off the lake. Though even if it didn't, Kris would probably still feel cold.
The warmth, the light, all drained away and washed till it's gone. Until they're hollow, and still, and cold.
It's just a feeling, mind you. They can feel the dull light, the artifice of a beating from the inside out. A heart with no compassion for them, buried inside their chest. But it isn't the same as warmth.
Noise and bright lights would be worse, certainly. But a touch more, the golden accent on the deep blue sunset… it would be nice.
Kris still doesn't say anything.
What is there to say now, anyway? In the morning, things will be different. It's a fresh start then. As fresh as start as they'll ever get, anyway. You can never wash it all away. No matter how strong the rain is, no matter how hard you scrub.
Nothing really leaves forever. And nothing that really matters stays the same.
So there's Susie, beside Kris. It's been days. Days of this, of them. Of having someone beside them again.
Different than she was a few days ago. Good different, though they liked her just fine before. But different, and not bad. Not bad is more than enough these days.
Nothing you love will stay, and nothing you hate will leave.
If they say anything, if they put too much emphasis on it, then what if it changes again? Even if they didn't do anything, the looming sense of fate creeping over their shoulder seems to whisper what they already know.
That it just seems inevitable, that it will break. That nothing good can last, and everything bad will persist.
And here, it's the dull grey of the water tinged with an almost blue haze. It's the slight breeze, and the soft dripping, and Susie's breathing, to their right. The embodiment of everything worth saving, and more than that, their friend.
Kris doesn't say anything. What could they even say?
Susie leans over. She doesn't speak. It's one look, and they understand. Her arm is warm, and her cardigan is worn soft, and her grip is strong and stable and steady.
When she pulls them in closer, they don't acknowledge it. Stare blankly into the distance, into the horizon, trying to see the other shore of the lake and failing against the unending mist.
Their head fits in perfectly, rested in the crook of her neck. Her head, against theirs, and just then—
It really is just quiet.
Quiet, and warm, and Susie. The sound of her heartbeat the only thing to hear.
Right now, it's the only thing that matters.
It's just a touch. The lightest hint. But it's warmth, against the chill blue night.
Forget all that.
It's Susie.
Just Susie, and Kris, together at the shore.
That's all they need to say.
And there's a part of them that wants to say "stay" and a part of them that wants to cry, and a part of 'them' beating too loud to think. But it's Susie, it's okay, because it's Susie.
They don't have to say a thing.
It can just be…
Quiet.