Three Little Words
Soren and Eli were sharing the loft together. It was Friday night, but neither of them felt like going out tonight. They rarely did. They tended to spend most of their nights in unless they had plans with friends. The winter sun was setting and mostly below the horizon, bathing them in mellow gold light. Soren was back on his dubstep project, this time working with Vexare's Rattlesnakes song. This one was easier than Chase Me, but he was having a hard time finding an instrument that would hit the butterzone of keeping true to its hard tech roots yet still be accessible to the people who hated electronic music on principle. The string bass was the most promising right now, but he just couldn't get it right. After many repetitions of the song, he returned the beloved instrument to its case. Soren was done with music for now. That pet project was giving him a lot of grief, and he knew now was the time to put it down. He grabbed a stool and sat behind Eli, wrapping his silver arms around his waist and resting his muzzle in the crook between Eli's right shoulder and neck. Soren made sure to leave his painting arm plenty of room to maneuver. "Hi sweetie," said Eli as he worked, resting his head briefly on top of Soren's in greeting. "Putting your project down for a while? I'd be glad to help you when I'm done." "That'd be nice," said Soren, "Sometimes you just need to distance yourself for a bit before going back to a project." Soren felt Eli nod in agreement. Soren sat there contentedly, watching Eli weave wonders with paint. This was another color study, mixing all different shades or reds and blues. Scarlet, ruby, vermillion, and prominent crimson tones were on the left side of the canvas. the right side was covered with sapphire, cobalt, azure, and an emphasized sky-blue. the colors mixed together in the very middle to create a vibrant purple that faded to white at the center. Soren marveled how the different shading techniques within the vortexes of color, creating subtle shapes within the subconscious. Soren saw an eagle in flight, a serpentine eastern dragon, and two figures in the middle. they were tall, vulpine, and cloaked in what looked like long, flowing tails. he pointed at the very center, where he saw the two silhouettes , skirting the edges of the colors just before they began to mix into the purple at the center. "Is that... us?" asked Soren. Eli nodded and smiled. Soren kissed Eli on the cheek. "I love the way you paint Eli." "I just love you."
Soren felt an electric jolt surge up his body. It was a jolt of fear, trepidation, and surprise. Those words... did Eli just say what he thought he said. Soren was spiraling, his brain foggy and his ears filled with a buzzing noise, like a thousand angry bees. He just had no way to keep thoughts coherent in his head. After a moment that felt like years, he squeezed Eli around the waist and said. "Thanks. I'm gonna make dinner, ok?"
Eli nodded without a word, and Soren got up and walked down the loft stairs, trying not to rush. His brain was still cloudy and unfocused, and he nearly tripped down the stairs as he hurried to the kitchen. Sticking his head in the cool fridge, he tried to find his rationality amongst the ingredients for stir fry he was fishing out.
It wasn't till he had Jeanne's chef knife in his hands as he chopped onions did he finally manage to mold a thought into coherent words. "He said it," thought Soren. "He said those three little words. Why am I frightened by that?" It made no sense. What made committing so terrifying? Wasn't he happy here? When they moved in together, back in his dingy apartment in Cavalier, wasn't it nice even then? To share space. Meals. Time. A bed... He was happy.
"When was the last time I was happy," thought Soren as he continued to slice vegetables. He wasn't happy in college. He was putting his nose to the grinder to keep that scholarship, not to mention that he could never get past the first date with anyone there. Not after college. His family's determination to "fix" him put a real damper on things, plus he was scrambling around trying to get off Aly's couch. Even after that he was depressed, alone, and barely scraping by, both financially and mentally. High school was the only time Soren came close. Back when Grandma Jeanne was alive. He was learning so much: cooking, music, a new love for science... but when she died, he had no one but Sasha really. No one who could rescue him from his family's inane drama. Dating Milo was wonderful. He might have been willing to say those three little words himself, but that constantly looming threat of being discovered... it really stopped them from feeling truly ready to commit.
So here he was, in Eli's fantastic downtown condo. He was happy, content, and now mortally terrified. "Why am I afraid?" these words were said aloud, as though his cutting board could provide an adequate explanation to his worries.
A voice answered. Soren knew that voice, and he detested it. It was snide, condescending, cruel, and spiteful. It was a voice that had been inside him as long as he could remember. "It's because you know Eli is too good for you. Look at you. All you do is take from Eli. You're not afraid of him. You know you can't return all the deeds that Eli has done for you. You're not afraid of Eli. You're afraid of you. And you should be."
Soren shook his head, trying desperately to shake off this unwelcome visitor inside his head. That voice hadn't come to call in a long time, and Soren wanted it to stay that way. The voice continued in a gleeful whisper. "Look where you live. A penthouse in Kansas City. When could you ever afford that? You're a lab slave, paid slave wages. Without Eli you'd be back in Cavalier, in that grungy town home, infested with vermin. You'd be right at home too..."
Soren began to chop faster, reducing a carrot to rings in seconds, desperately trying to fill the headspace that hosted that voice with something, anything else. It was building up steam now, and Soren couldn't stop it. "But you don't care, do you? You want to be a lab slave, to keep your hands on the experiments. You don't wanna climb up to get shoved into a desk job. Noooo... you know you can get away with it now. You don't need to advance now that you're living with Eli. Face it. You're just a parasite.
Shaking his head harder, Soren tried to focus on what he was cooking. It was Jeanne's best meatloaf recipe. It was one of Eli's favorites. He chopped harder and harder, leaving gashes in the wooden cutting board. The voice laughed. "FOOD?! You think that cooking can make up for all this extravagance around you? Eli could eat out three times a day without blinking an eye. He's just humoring you. Do you think you can compete with all the restaurants in this city? You've really let your head swell up, haven't you?"
Soren drove a knife deep into a squash he was carving, breathing hard and fast. He tried to think of anything to shut out that voice, but he was too slow. It had him now. He slunk down onto the kitchen floor, his forehead pressed against a lower cabinet. He tried to think of any happy thought. "But his whole family loved my Thanksgiving stuff. That has to be something."
The voice was gleeful now. "Right. HIS whole family. The Vatras. Three, kind, loving family members who accepted you without hesitation. Lyra and Logan treated you like you were their own son."
Soren pounded his fist onto the floor. "Isn't that a good thing, you shitty little gremlin?!"
The voice was almost incoherent with glee now. "Reduced to name calling? What are you, ten? No... you're an adult. And you're right. It was a good thing. But what can YOU do? Nothing. Your parents hate you. Your brother hates you. Your whole damn family hates you."
"What about Aly?"
"What about her," asked the voice, "All you've done for her is be a burden. You lived on her couch for six months while you got your shit together. Barely. And all that did was make your family angry at her as well as you. You will never give the gift of a family back to Eli. You just want to use the Vatras as surrogates. A cheap imitation of a real flesh and blood family."
Soren was rocking back and forth now, fighting with himself. He gripped the fur on his arms so hard that it was on the verge of being torn out, causing surges of sharp needle-pain to run up and down his limbs. Soren hoped the pain might drive out that voice inside him. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt wetness behind his lids. All of this was just more kindling for that voice. "Going to cry? How juvenile," it sneered. "Perhaps you should go find Eli. He's a good shoulder to cry on. You've done that plenty of times. He was always there for you to vent on. He was always willing to listen to whatever trivial shit was plaguing your life at the moment. You sure took advantage of that, dumping all your problems on his shoulders."
Soren covered his eyes with the palms of his hands, his fingers gripping into his lengthening blue bangs, tearing at the hair just with as much intensity that he had used on his arms. He felt tears leaking behind his palms. He bit one of his silver tails to prevent himself from crying out, as well as to attempt to drive away that voice with sharp pain as he drew blood. "Has Eli ever asked you to be his vent? No... he can solve his own problems. He's actually competent. No... all you can do is complain. Eli is the one who tells you what to do."
Soren bit down again. He knew it would be no good, but he tried anyway. The voice snickered as he saw Soren hurting himself in a vain attempt to drive away something that was intrinsically part of himself. "And you can't even vent to him properly. You think you can deal with your own problems without help. You just bottle it up, waiting for it to explode. And you do explode, only to attack the only person who could actually help you.
"That only happened once, dammit."
"So you're a name calling crybaby who can't even count? Whenever Eli tries to help, you push and push him away. You're just kidding yourself again. You think you can solve your own problems. You can't. You always relied on someone else. Aly, Jeanne, Sasha... and now Eli. But you kept telling yourself you could do it alone. But then you'd just fuck up time and again and attack the only people who could have saved your sorry ass. And you never learn. You're just one sad and sorry fuck up." Soren was now helpless against his own brain. The malicious voice was running circles around his head, driving home every point. "You're just a parasite. In every damn way. All you do is take. You take money out of his pocket. You take the love of a family that isn't even yours. And what do you give back? Stress, mundane problems, and tantrums whenever ANYONE tries to get your sorry ass out of the shit pile it's in."
A different voice began to speak. This voice was a rare visitor inside Soren's head, but it was a more welcome one than the cold voice that was currently taking the stage. This voice was warmer, softer, and came with a smile just like Eli's. "Did he ever care?"
The two voices were going back and forth now. Soren no longer had his eyes shut nor was he biting his tail. He sat stock still as his psyche waged war with itself. The cold voice fired the first shot. "You can't deny that Soren's a dirty freeloader."
"Soren was living with Eli before they moved here. Back in that grubby old apartment. Eli had no idea if his next auctions would be as good as his first. Better than his first. They didn't move here till Eli felt he could sustain himself."
"But Eli pays for everything."
"He doesn't care. Having Soren cook for him was always enough for Eli."
"Eli could eat better food than this for the rest of his life without giving up anything. He has more money than he knows what to do with. He could buy a house in cash."
"But Eli is happy here. he doesn't want to do those things. He doesn't care." there was a pause as the cold voice scrambled to change the topic.
"What about his family? The Sauls would never accept Eli like the Vatras did for him."
"Eli knows that. He thinks the Sauls are terrible people for how they treat their son. He doesn't want their affection if they think he's broken for being gay."
"The Vatras are too good to him. Soren and Eli were dating for less than six months at Thanksgiving. They treated Soren like a son. All he really was was a casual date."
"Did anyone care? They were all eager to meet Soren. They all liked him." Another pause.
"You still can't deny that Soren's a dependent fool. He can't pick out his own shirt without asking Eli for help."
"That's why they started living together. Eli said it himself. 'Isn't that why we are living together? Didn't we do that so we could love and help each other?'"
"You seem to be forgetting about Soren's terrible temper. Eli sure has taken a lot of shit because Soren's deluded himself into thinking he's independent."
The warm voice now raised its volume, speaking not with petty rage but righteous fury. "And Eli has never cared about that."
The two fractures of Soren's psyche began circling each other, like lions sizing each other up before a fight. Soren wasn't even able to process the whole argument anymore. He heard words flash through his mind, sometimes in the condescending voice, sometimes in the warm voice.
The two parts of himself waged a furious war for what felt like hours. Soren was beyond being able to comprehend it. He curled into a ball and watched as his own brain spiraled into confusion, no longer able to stay in control. All he could do was watch the clock move forward, agonizingly slow. After almost an hour passed, Soren managed to reach a state of partial coherency. He heard the two voices more clearly as they continued to clash.
"Parasite! Deluded! Incompetent!" The snide voice was reduced to shouting, no longer forming coherent arguments."
"He never cared, you fool. Eli never cared about Soren's faults. He only cared about..."
"...Me," said Soren, finishing the statement aloud. The voices waging war in his head vanished, leaving echos of the battle ringing inside his own brain.
Soren stood up, his legs shaking a little. He took the knife out of the squash and cleaned it on a rag. He gripped the flawless blade and held it up to his face, looking at himself in the reflection of the thick, sharp blade. He traced his thumb across the keen edge, putting pressure on the cutting edge but not pushing hard enough that he would be cut. It had been at least twelve years since he had cut himself with a kitchen knife.
Staring at himself through the glint of the aged knife, he saw his eyes were red. No surprises there. His blue hair was haphazardly spiked after he had torn at it, and his whole face looked drawn and almost gaunt after that war with himself. It had been ages since he had an episode like that. He had childishly hoped for a while now that the terrible voice wouldn't come back this time.
He straightened his hair and got a coke from the fridge. A long gulp and shake of his head suppressed most of the mental exhaustion, but he still felt drained. He finished the meatloaf automatically, throwing it into the oven, his legs and arms shaking the whole time.
After he set the timer, Soren slowly made his way to the couch. He turned on the iHome and felt a wave of calm wash over him as he selected his violin playlist. A wave of calm washed over him, the music slow, melodic, and filled with memories. Many of these songs were songs he learned to play himself.
Soren covered his eyes with his palms and let the tears leak out, his brain still echoing with the words of both voices. He went through another coke and many glasses of ice water. He felt blood pounding past his ears, and was suddenly conscious of how hard and fast he was breathing. He ached all over from tight of a ball he had curled into, and two of his tails were stained red.
Soren watched the timer count down. At five minutes left to go, he got up, still shaking and went to the sink to wipe his tails free of blood. Splashing his face with a bit of water, he went to take the food out of the oven and let it cool a bit. He inspected his reflection in the blade again, and he looked mostly normal. Mostly.
Soren made his way slowly to the loft stairs, only to meet Eli walking down the last few steps, a shirt free of paint looped over his right arm. Soren forced himself to smile. "I was going to call you for dinner, but you beat me to it."
"I heard the buzzer," said Eli. "I just needed to finish a small portion of that project anyway." The two foxes lingered there awkwardly. Eli absently took off the paint covered shirt and hooked it on the railing. "Did you forget something in the loft? Want me to grab it for you."
Soren shook his head. "No. I just forgot to do something up there." The silver fox stepped forward and wrapped Eli in his powerful arms. "I forgot to say 'I love you, too.'" They kissed each other. It was reminiscent of their first kiss. But this one was even sweeter. It wasn't born from drunken recklessness. This kiss was deliberate, premeditated, and even more passionate.
Dinner was forgotten. They moved to the couch and collapsed on it. They held each other with intense strength, as though they could become one being if they gripped hard enough. Soren felt the wounds inflicted by that cold, snide voice wash away as he held Eli. Soren kissed Eli again, breaking apart after what felt like sweet and blissful eons. "Eli, thank you... for being here."
Eli stroked Soren's silver face, looking confused and slightly amused. "You never need to thank me for that. It's no big deal."
Soren buried his face in Eli's arms. "You have no idea, sweetie."
Eli's look of confusion remained. "Soren... are you all right? You really freaked out upstairs."
Soren was reluctant to provide the whole answer, still scared from the war his psyche had waged with itself, sparked so unintentionally by Eli. "Well... I just sorta panicked. I kinda flashed back to when I was with Milo. Being with him felt so... good. Especially after Grandma Jeanne died. For a long time I wanted to say those three little words to Milo. I really did care for him. But... well you know where we were. What our families were like. I was afraid to say it out loud only to watch it fall apart... like it did."
Eli hugged Soren. "But that's not all, is it." Soren bit his tongue inside his mouth and waited. After ten long seconds, Eli spoke again. "That was a statement, dear. Not a question."
Soren buried his face further into Eli's embrace. His voice drifted out between Eli's strong arms, muffled and quivering by a minute fraction. "I'm... afraid. I'm afraid that I'm just a burden to you."
Eli sighed and held Soren closer to him. "Soren, please. You know I've never thought that. I will never think that."
Soren felt tears of shame leaking past his eyes. "but I am. And whatever I do, I'm going to keep trying to hide my problems from you and then push you away when you try to help. I can't stop hurting you, and I've tried and tried to stop, but something's going to end up making me explode."
Eli extracted Soren from himself and wiped his blue eyes with a gentle hand. "Did you hear me upstairs? I love you. I love all of you. Even the bad parts. There are no caveats in those words."
Soren kissed Eli, breaking apart only after they ran out of breath. "I love you too, Eli. That's why I'm so scared. I'm afraid I'll hurt you."
"Nobody's perfect," said Eli. "Stop trying to be. You don't give yourself enough credit."
Soren hugged Eli tightly. "You are."
Eli jumped a little, but continued to stroke Soren's face. "But I don't care about being perfect. Us loving each other is enough for me. We can do this together." Soren closed his eyes at Eli's soft touch. After a long time, he nodded his head in assent. Soren felt Eli lay his head onto his chest, and together they drifted into nothingness.