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I had to admire how well this form embodied the term "scrungly". Seven-Shades-Of-Sunlight really wasn't doing well, was she? But even on the worst bad-hair-day I expected I'd ever see from her, she did it with style.
That was the annoying thing about Sevens, and really her whole family. You had to admire their artistry, even when they were being insufferable. But even without her giving the stage directions and letting her *actors* subtly preen for their audience, this form she had rummaged up was pure scrungle. It was a beautiful choice of casting. It moved like a laundry hamper full of wire coathangers being dumped down a flight of stairs.
"Aww," I said to her like I was talking to a shy puppy, "do you want a hug?" I crouched down and held my arms out invitingly. "It's okay, we all need a hug sometimes."
Blood-black eyes stared at me from over the edge of the living room sofa as Sevens gurgled with menace. Lozzie just nodded vigorously from her place folded into a pastel pyramid in her armchair, with all appearance of earnestness.
"Would a hug make you feel better?" Heather asked thoughtfully. "From something more like you, I mean, not from me."
Sevens tried to glare daggers at Heather, but couldn't quite bring herself to manage it. Instead she directed her glare at me, as if she'd been suggested to hug a leech. I kept my arms held out in offer, bouncing on my heels a little, not even trying to hide my grin. This was the best day of my life.
"Hwrgggggg," Sevens stated, backing a little further into the corner between the couch and the wall. Nope, you don't get to silently exit stage left, I thought you had more self-respect than that. The spotlight's on you babe, stay and play the bit. Besides, look at Lozzie, she's cheering you on from the wings, you don't want to disappoint Lozzie do you?
"Sevens," Heather said firmly, a steel tone that I did not know she could produce. "Hug the nice faerie."
Sevens gurgled again, this one with an edge of pleading desperation in it as she looked up at Heather, but apparently detected no mercy. She scrungled her way over the back of the couch, legs-first, and shuffled towards me sideways like a cat being forced towards a carrier. Another reluctant glance cast at Heather, before she began to slink across the living room carpet.
Wait, was she actually going to do this? Really? Fuck.
My smile stiffened a little. My turn to direct a vaguely-panicked look to Heather, then Lozzie, as I lowered my arms and began to stand. "Hang on, okay, all right I was teasing her a bit much, but--" I started. Heather's gaze pierced me as she raised her eyebrows, daring me to disagree, and automatically I crouched to Sevens's level again. Who was this bold new Heather, capable of bossing people around in a social setting? "You're asking for a lot," I whined. Heather showed no signs of caring.
"Nice faerie, hug the Sevens!" Lozzie chirped, nodding like a bobble-head doll. "Always feel better after a good hug, mhm!" Sevens' breath rasped as she shuffled closer. She was too uncomfortable to even indulge in schadenfreude, but showed no signs of stopping. I guess I didn't want to disappoint Lozzie either though.
Welp, in for a penny and all that stuff. I wrapped my arms around the scrungly little vampire-thing, then unreeled myself and hugged Seven-Shades-Of-Sunlight.
'Viscerally unpleasant' does not even begin to do it justice, but I gave it my all. I really did. I unravelled the threads of my soul and wrapped them around her, pushed them awkwardly between lacy ruffles of golden fabric, settled close and squeezed tight. Slowly so as not to strike sparks, careful not to snag and tug on her weave, trying to make silver-blue not clash with honeyed sunset. Held her close to the campfire of my heart, not quite intimate-close, but a lot closer than even a casual friend would, and stayed there for a long minute doing my best to radiate compassion, sympathy, warmth. It turned out to be easier than I'd expected, to be honest, even as scratchy and over-starched and rococo as she was. After a moment she relaxed enough to hug me back.
The whole thing was about as graceful as a starfish embracing a redwood, and made about as much sense. She didn't even wince at the metaphor up close and personal though, perhaps because I was perfectly aware that I was the starfish in this exchange. Illusions like ego did not really apply when interleaved together like this.
We all have rough chapters in our stories. No judgement, you'll do great. Break a leg, girl.
Stage lights, cue 3, go. Left spotlight, cue 5, go.
Standby sound cue 12. Sound cue 12, go.
Yeah, but still. You've really fallen for Heather hard, haven't you?
Left spotlight, cue 6, go.
That's legitimately very sweet. I hope it works out well for you all.
After another heartbeat we sheepishly unwove ourselves from each other, not meeting each others' gaze as she rearranged her skirts and I tucked myself back into a neat spool. Heather was watching critically for any sign of faithlessness, like a Victorian schoolmarm enforcing discipline on her children; if we had delayed the hug further I swear she would have begun tapping her foot meaningfully. Lozzie was, naturally, over the moon: mouth open in an astonished grin, eyes as wide as could be as she tapped her palms together in gleeful, silent applause.
"...Thanks," Sevens rasped awkwardly, as we mutually backed away from each other.
"De nada," I replied, for lack of anything better to say.
"Now kiss," Lozzie whispered under her breath, hands waving in the air before her, miming pushing our faces together. Sevens and I both decided that this was a joke.
"Feel better?" Heather asked us, judging her results. She actually was tapping her foot now.
Sevens darted like a snake and bit my forearm hard, jagged teeth grinding on bone, then vanished into the kitchen as I screamed with surprise and bled on the carpet.