❤

she hasn't seen furi lately -- not, this time, because of some fight they're in, but just because between rose's return and blixen's training, their routines are in flux. and it's wholly her fault, she thinks with a pang of guilt. she hasn't exactly made an effort to check in on furi, busy as she is. 

but she misses her girlfriend, and so when she catches furi's scent near hougeda she follows it. feeling the latent chill in her fur, the redhead tracks her to the tidepools, unable to help the smile that curves her mouth at the sight of furi toeing the sand. "hei!" she calls out, picking up the pace to meet her at her side, "up to anything good?"

furi's smile earns a full grin. blixen leans into her a little just because she can, watching the movement of the sand under her girlfriend's paws. "me neither," she agrees, then asks, "how's rose doing?" (well look they are still friends, despite whatever weird baggage exists between the two redheads.)

her feelings about rose keep oscillating. it's confusing and more than a little frustrating. blixen had thought that figuring out her feelings were coming from jealousy would resolve things -- especially because hey, her and furi are dating! -- but she still feelings a possessive twinge at the thought of rose and furi together. maybe because she's still not totally clear on where furi stands, maybe because rose is still... really cool and blixen likes her. maybe because she's broken? who knows. either way it makes her feel guilty, what with the torture, and poor rose. so for now she tries to keep her mouth shut about it and let furi do her.. rose thing, because rose needs support and friends right now. right?

the redhead twists, her expression intent as she watches her girlfriend speak. she's glad to hear rose is doing well -- she is! -- though whatever 'okay, i guess' means probably deserves more than a first look. unfortunately, as we all know, blixen is definitely not that sort of person. 

instead she makes a thoughtful noise, looking at the tide pools collected nearby. "hey," blixen says suddenly, bopping furi's nose with her own, "wanna splash around?" the tide is out but there's still water to frolick in -- frigid wintery water, sure, but it's all in your perspective. smiling she takes a few bouncy steps toward the lingering tide, waiting for furi to follow her.

blix doesn't know furi's thoughts, but she can keenly feel the tension rising between them. confused (jeez, she'd mostly been goofing about the splashing), she opens her mouth to -- maybe not apologise, but ask -- when furi starts talking. and blixen's stomach drops.

"i-i didn't mean to," the redhead stammers, stopping in her tracks. had it been wrong? mother ... mother hadn't said anything bad, had been happy for her, why was furi --? "i... i didn't think it was a bad thing, we weren't... a secret?" 

it takes a few moments for the full weight of furi's words to sink in. there's a roaring in her ears that isn't from the ocean. what? "i don't understand," blixen says, her voice deadly calm as a cacophany of emotions crash through her, anger and shock and fear and sorrow and guilt and confusion. "i thought you... i thought we were mutual."

furi speaks but all she can hear is the roaring in her ears, all she can taste is acid. her mouth is filled with acid, she could spit acid now, she can't speak or she'll spit acid. she can't speak.

she speaks. "what does that even mean?" the calm in her voice gives way to anger, righteous and comfortable. anger is something familiar and warm. she can make a home in anger. "what did my mother say to you?" she demands, because they were fine -- they'd been fine -- they'd been busy and a little weird with rose but nothing they couldn't solve and all she can think is what happened, what happened, and she can't make up her mind if she's madder at her mother or at furi right now or if she's allowed to be angry at either.

but her mother isn't here right now. her expression wobbles, breaks when furi's does. "i thought we were," blixen manages, but the words aren't reassuring, they're bitter and mean and the unsaid i guess we aren't hangs over them. she can't handle grief and she can't handle loss and she can't handle feelings bigger than teeth in flesh. she can't feel the shape of anything, so she clings to anger, letting the words come up unbidden now, bubbling to the surface in a desperate growl. "or -- or is rose your best friend now," and she knows it's a cheap shot but she can't help it. she is fire and spit and terror and it is all she knows how to be.

sometimes she feels like she's watching herself from outside her body, unable to stop the ugly curl of her mouth, unable to prevent the spread of her mean thoughts. once tirgatao had told her that people would understand if she was ugly and mad because of her mother, but that had been so long ago. shouldn't she have grown out of it? 

(none of this crosses her mind in the moment, watching herself fail from afar.)

her mouth opens to snap back and clicks shut instead, the hurt writ plainly across her face. "i don't what," blixen asks, her voice dangerous, ignoring the way furi shakes her head. she needs to know. she needs to know what's so wrong with her that she must be unlovable, that she can never get it good enough to be what furi wants.

you don't know me.

abruptly her anger gives way. her legs wobble but she does not move, frozen until furi begins to move. "if i don't know you, it's because you never tell me anything!" blixen snaps, spinning on her heels. she takes a few steps forward as if to follow her but the roaring in her ears is gone, replaced with the sting of furi's last words as they echo over and over. 

"you always run away," she calls out instead, her voice choked on the words. she's loud but she doesn't know if furi will hear her or will care. "at least i don't run away," she says, this time quietly, empty words for herself, spoken to the lonely sand.