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Light blue and baby pink. Faded tinsel on spotless walls. The scent of Christmas spices permeating the wintry air. Though you haven’t set foot here in years, Noelle’s bedroom is as familiar to you as your own. It’s a place of respite; the calm after a long day of games and hijinks. A page off the scrapbook of your childhood, creased at the corners of your memory.
A haven you are about to tarnish beyond repair.
You were a fool to think you could keep the Soul at bay for even a minute. That it would stay put and allow you a single private conversation. Why would it? When it’s made its fixation on Noelle (and Noelle only) more than apparent since your last foray into the Dark World, where you… you—
A flash of red in your peripheral is your only warning: you bite your tongue to keep from screaming as the Soul tears through your ribcage, rending muscle and sinew without so much as a squelch. Sweet, hopeful Noelle doesn’t notice a thing, focused as she is on recounting the events from last night — your one shining moment of rebellion for which you’ll soon pay the price. She draws closer, ever closer, her eyes glistening with relieved tears and a fondness you haven’t seen directed at you since…
Since…
The TV flashed with white noise as Dess retrieved her movie of choice for the night: some horror flick heavy on gore and light on plot — your favorite kind. You touched your fingers to the screen, relishing the prickle of static electricity, the raised hairs on your arms…
An idea came to you. You grinned, buzzing with anticipation.
Not a minute later, a puffy-eyed Noelle shrieked as you brushed your static-ridden hand against the fur of her upper arm.
“Zombie’s gonna get youuuu.” You whispered in her ear. Noelle squeaked and sandwiched her head between two pillows, curling into a ball on the opposite end of her bedroom couch.
“C’mon kiddo!” Your laughter petered into a hiss when Dess pinched your ear. Though she looked all serious, you spotted the mirth in her eyes clear as day. “Elly’s had enough scares for one night, dontcha think?”
You grudgingly nodded. Dess released you to go check on her sister. It took some coaxing and a lot of hugging, but eventually Noelle perked up, giggling at something Dess said to her. No doubt something full of words your mom wouldn’t approve of.
“Alriiiiiiight!” Dess stretched leisurely and snatched the bowl of leftover popcorn on her way out. You frowned; that’d had your name on it. “That was fun, but it’s waaay past your bedtime so… off ya go! Chop, chop!”
“A-aye, aye, captain!” Noelle threw her a salute. She was smiling and her ears weren’t drooping like they were before, but her hands were shaking. She was very obviously still scared.
More importantly, you noted with creeping glee as Dess waved goodnight and shut the door behind her, Noelle wasn’t paying any attention to you at the moment. And both a cup of melting ice and the neckline of her fuzzy pajamas were within reach.
It was mean, you knew it was mean, everyone had told you it was mean, but you just couldn’t help yourself. She made it so damn easy.
“EEEEEEEEEK!” Noelle hopped from hoof to hoof, desperately shaking her shirt to rid herself of your little prank. She then whipped her head around to glare at you, and… ah! There it was: that delectable mix of anger, amusement and fondness you only ever got from Noelle. It was addictive. You couldn’t get enough. “K-Kris! Gosh, you’re… pfttt! You’re the worst! I’m calling Des—!”
You wrest back control of your arm and rush to cover Noelle’s mouth.
Blood roars in your ears. Your body is leaden, pins and needles shooting throughout. Though it hasn’t yet issued a command, the Soul’s presence has never felt this strong, this smothering. It’s razor-focused. Hungry. Determined.
You know without a doubt it’s because of Noelle. Because you’re alone with her.
Your fingers spasm against her lips. You need to get her out of here. Now.
Please understand. You silently beg with a face that won’t express what you want it to. A slight grimace is all you manage; it hardly differs from your default expression. You’re observant, you’re so, so smart, please— please, Noelle, dammit... Please notice and get out!
But Noelle doesn’t, cannot understand. She lowers your hand gently, but firmly. “Kris, it’s okay! It’s just us!”
Your throat constricts. The meddling parasite within your body rattles against your ribs, mocking you. No it’s not no it’s not no it’s not no it’s nOT…
“You just said not to mention any of that…” Noelle squeezes your arm reassuringly, no doubt feeling your trembling and misinterpreting the hell out of it. “Because it’d get… heard.”
Through excruciating effort, you yank your hand free once more and slam it against her open mouth. Noelle’s snout wrinkles where your clammy skin touches it, her breath a grounding warmth you desperately cling to. Just keep quiet, just for a little bit, just—
It’s no use: yet again Noelle takes hold of your wrist, her grip firmer this time. “...Kris… Kris, it’s okay! It’s just us.”
The tiniest sound of distress slips past your lips. Your insides churn and roil like a boiling pot. Cold sweat drenches your undershirt. You’re going to be sick. Violently so. Oh shit… Shitshitshit! What can you—? Wait. Maybe… maybe that’s a good thing. If you threw up all over Noelle’s couch, wouldn’t that make her leave? To go get help? You’d be sent home, wouldn’t you? Hell, Susie would carry you there herself. Would that be enough to dissuade the Soul, if only momentarily?
Yeah… yeah, that’s it! It’s worth a shot, it’s—
It dawns on you that you’re not heaving despite your body’s myriad protests.
Dread sinks back in, ice-cold.
…Will the Soul even allow you to be sick?
Noelle’s cheeks dimple when she smiles, all warm and reassuring and blissfully unaware. (Get out get out gET OUT!) She rubs her thumb against your hammering pulse point. The bile burning your throat remains impossibly at bay. “Who… who’s going to hear?”
The world around you grinds to a screeching halt. You feel that horrible shift within you, the sudden emptying of your mind you’ve come to associate with the Soul making a choice. It doesn’t take long: your mouth opens of its own accord, a single word slipping out despite your utmost efforts to swallow it…
“Me.”
You raised your hand all cheeky, smirking at Noelle. Really, what did she expect? ‘Who the heck goes to sleep without a care after watching a scary movie?’ You, that’s who! Duh!
Noelle groaned and puffed out her cheeks. “Ugh, Kris, you don’t count! You never find them scary!”
“‘Cause they aren’t.” You shrugged as you resumed your fruitless search for fallen popcorn under the couch. It seemed Dess really had taken all that was left, the jerk. “You’re just a big crybaby.”
“Oh, hush already!” Noelle kicked you in the butt. It didn’t hurt; it never did. She was always too mindful of her hooves to truly let loose with you.
(It only made you try harder to rile her up every time.)
“...You know what? Fine!” Noelle plopped back down on the couch. “If you’re so tough, then you can go to bed by yourself! I… I’m s-staying right here!”
You froze. Then you slowly raised your head. Noelle was turned away from you, arms folded, shoulders hunched and tail flared up. She fully meant it.
Something inside you shrivelled. This wasn’t fun anymore.
“Hey.” You poked Noelle’s cheek. Her nose twitched, but she remained firmly silent. You poked her harder. “Hey. Heeeeeeey!”
“...What?!”
Relief washed over you the moment Noelle’s eyes locked on yours. You grinned at her with all you had. “Wanna sneak out and see if there’s choccy milk in the fridge?”
Noelle’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, her sulking all but forgotten. It made you giddy, like you’d just won the biggest prize at the town festival. “YES! Um, I mean, uhh… s-sure! But… what if we get caught?”
“We won’t.” You said confidently; you weren’t an expert at midnight snack raids for nothing. “Unless you’re too scared to try.”
Noelle clenched her fists and glared at you, her fur all fluffed up with indignation.
And yet, when you offered her your hand, she took it without hesitation.
Your fingers lock around Noelle’s wrist, gripping hard enough to bruise. She flinches violently, her panicked rambling silenced under your wretched touch, your scrutiny, the threat you foolishly led to her room like the fucking idiot you are.
Try as you might, you can’t look away from her eyes. You’ve never seen them blown this wide, this terrified. Not long ago, such a sight would’ve meant great opportunity. An opening for you to tease, to provoke, to push the limits of Noelle’s carefully maintained propriety. A game the two of you indulged in without needing to acknowledge its existence. It was exhilarating. It was everything.
How did you end up here? Where did it all go this wrong?
“...K…Kris?”
You hear the congealed fear in Noelle’s voice, see the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She is no longer resisting what’s to come. Perhaps she knows it to be futile. She has always been better than you at acceptance, after all.
You choke on a frustrated sob your body won’t release. Unlike Noelle, you refuse to surrender: you keep on trying, keep on fighting, keep on screaming at the entity hijacking your limbs to give back what’s rightfully yours. To let you keep your promise.
Didn’t you… want to… protect me…?
It matters not.
The thorn in your grasp is raised, poised to strike. You swear you got rid of it last night; that you tossed into the hedges around Noelle’s porch as soon as you were out of her sight. And yet here it is. Again. Because everything you do, the Soul undoes. Everything you run from, it drops writhing at your feet.
Everything you cherish, it shatters.
Noelle’s tears overflow, falling down her cheeks, her chin, your trembling knuckles.
The Soul repeats its command.
In the last moments before you’re forced to obey, you manage to stroke Noelle’s wrist with your thumb, hoping against all hope it chases some of her terror away.
“Aw, Kris, are you… apologizing?”
Noelle’s eyes gleamed under the soft glow of her bedpost lights. Though you still kept the blanket aloft over you both, your arm began to tremble under the intensity of her gaze. Your ears burned.
It wasn’t a big deal. You were already sharing a bed, so why not huddle together if Noelle was still a little scared? It only made sense… right?
Besides, her room was really damn cold.
You shook your head. “Won’t sleep if you don’t, you move too much. And your mom’s gonna blame me if you’re tired tomorrow.” You looked away and patted your chest. “...So come on.”
“Well, if you insist…” Noelle giggled. Her breath smelled like chocolate. “Um… Here I go!”
Through the numbness suffusing your body, you feel Noelle collapse against you. Her blood trickles warm down your fingers, draining her of will, of spirit, of everything so uniquely, so fundamentally Noelle.
You know, deep in your bones, that there’s no coming back from this.
The Soul’s clutches ease at long last, giving your limbs room to spasm, your throat air to choke around. Of course the damn thing doesn’t care what happens now. It already made its point. Claimed its prize.
The damage is done and it’s all your fucking fault.
“...K…ri…s?”
Whatever remains of your battered heart seizes inside your chest. Noelle’s voice is but a wisp of thin air, barely intelligible despite her closeness. You should help her upright, check on her, face the reality of what you’ve done to her…
Instead you clutch her to you, coward that you are.
Noelle exhales shakily against your collarbone, completely limp in your arms. There is no warmth to her breath anymore. She’s cold, so dreadfully cold. You grip her tighter, like that’ll keep the creeping frost at bay.
“…Can…y…ou…”
You strain your ears to listen. Noelle sounds almost happy, almost peaceful. If you tried really, really hard, you could maybe convince yourself she’s just falling asleep; that you’re just having a sleepover. Like that one night you keep circling around to, when the two of you watched a terrible zombie movie, and you raided the Holidays’ fridge, and Noelle asked you to… to…
“...Sssi…ng… me…to…sss…lee…p?”
Your vision goes dark at the corners.
You don’t register burying your face into Noelle’s shoulder. You have no awareness of the moisture on your face, of your rocking back and forth, of your body coming apart at the seams. All you know, all you’re reduced to, is the desperate need to scream. To call it quits. To pull out your knife and end it all for good.
But there is only so much indulgence the Soul will allow you. And there is something far more important you can— no, must do.
On the night of that sleepover, you refused Noelle’s request. It felt too embarrassing to sing by yourself, too vulnerable. Perhaps… a bit too sincere. All you were willing to offer was some half-hearted, off-key humming, and Noelle had drifted off to it like it was the sweetest of lullabies.
This time, however, even though your throat feels like sandpaper, even though Noelle is barely present, even though you’ve shattered whatever bond the two of you still shared, you will sing for Noelle (and Noelle only) if it’s the last thing you do.
It’s the least you owe her.
It’s all you can give.
It’s all you get to keep.