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It’s cold. Too cold for being outside. Kris adjusts the neckline of their sweater and looks longingly at the path that leads back to their house with a sigh.
Across from them, Susie groans.
“Ughhh, come on, dude, it’s been like, a million hours already!” She bangs on the backdoor of the church, making it shake. “We’re gonna miss all the free food.”
She sounds so miserable that Kris considers luring her back to the neighborhood with some leftover pumpkin pie and the emergency whipped cream in the fridge. It could work. At this point, literally anything was better than staring into the unmoving darkness of the room in front of them.
There's a slow creak as the door opens just a sliver, revealing nothing but a thin slice of shadow and a voice they know all too well.
“A-actually, I think I’ll just stay in,” Ralsei stammers. A single white claw peaks through. “You two go on without me. I don’t want to cause trouble.”
“Are you kidding!? I’m gonna be late to my date ‘cause of you. You’re going, goat boy!” Susie barks, yanking hard on the doorknob.
Ralsei puts up a good fight, pulling against Susie in an uncharacteristic show of strength for someone his size. “I just don’t understand why I can’t wear my normal clothes! They’re fine! I wear them all the time.”
“Yeah,” Susie scoffs, “in the Dark World, dweeb. Out here you’d get abducted by Catti and turned into her little voodoo doll. Is that what you want? Huh?”
“Abducted!?”
His grip falters, and the door swings violently. He stumbles forward out of the church, dragging Susie with him in a tangle of limbs that hits the steps with a dull smashing sound. If not for Kris’s hard-earned Dark World reflexes, they would’ve been flattened right along with them.
Ralsei springs to his feet like he’s just touched a hot stove. “Oh, I'm so very sorry Susie!” he blurts, before quickly bending down to help her back up.
Kris can’t help but to snort at the sight. Susie’s far too much of a softie and Ralsei too much of a people pleaser for her to ever get truly mad at him. Still, she takes his offered hand—if only to ease his guilt—and hauls herself up with a grunt.
Once she’s steady, her eyes flick over him from head to toe. A smirk starts to curl at her mouth.
“It’s whatever,” she says, flicking some dirt off her pants. “Dude, you look good.”
The words hit their mark. Ralsei’s shoulders hunch, his hands fidgeting at the frilled edges of the pink dress, pulling them inward as if the fabric might hide him completely. His ears dip low.
“I look ridiculous. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this.”
“Nah, come on,” Susie shrugs. “I thought dresses were your thing. You always wear that ugly green thing everywhere.”
“That’s not a dress, Susie, it’s a magician’s robe, which you’d know if you’d paid attention to the manual—“
“So, a dress for nerds,”
Ralsei stares at her incredulously.
“‘Sides,” she laughs. “Kris likes it. Don’t you, Kris?”
Now that gets their attention.
Ralsei freezes. Slowly, he lifts his head and turns toward Kris, “...You do?”
See, this is exactly what Kris was hoping to avoid by not going to the festival. They’d had a perfectly solid plan: stay home, avoid eye contact with their mom, maybe catch up with their favorite show. Then Susie had gone and opened her big mouth in front of Toriel, and suddenly Kris was being shoved off the couch with their sneakers still half-on.
And sure, they could technically leave now. But walking back home would only get them grounded for a month, and Kris isn’t about to risk losing contact with the only good friend they’ve got left since Asriel moved away for college. The thought of going more than a single day without some weird Susie-related detour makes something in their chest tighten. Or maybe that’s just the wind cutting through their jacket.
Susie would probably wring their neck if they ditched her now. She’s been talking about this festival nonstop for a week. She even brought it up to Ralsei so many times that not inviting him wasn’t an option anymore. And here they are, caught in the middle of it, watching Ralsei blink at them shyly over the rim of his round glasses.
You look so cute, Ralsei. You’re so cute, so cute, so cute, so—
Kris really. Really. wishes she hadn’t.
The soul’s voice pulses like a migraine inside their skull over and over again, trying to physically force them to spit the words out. It pushes into their lungs, demanding air, beating harder against Kris’ ribs in a way that would leave any normal living being gasping for air.
When the soul first arrived, it had been no more than a small nuisance. Their relationship was strained from the start but at least there had been rules, even if neither of them ever spoke them aloud. The soul wouldn’t humiliate them. It wouldn’t push them into anything truly dangerous. And it wouldn’t force them toward something they didn’t want.
But that was before Ralsei. Now, whenever the prince is nearby, Kris’s boundaries are thrown out the window. The soul grows restless, crackling under their skin worse than an electric current. It’s an impatient, hungry sort of static, never content to let them sit still, always pushing.
Say something, it urges. Do something. Tell him what you think. Tell him he’s cute.
Kris clenches their jaw. The soul doesn’t seem to care that they absolutely, unequivocally do not have those kinds of feelings for Ralsei. He is cute, sure, but that’s an objective observation, the same way one might acknowledge a well-designed sweater or a particularly delicious tasting pie.
Ralsei’s sparkling pink eyes are still on them. His eyebrows twitch, looking like he’s bracing himself for the inevitable crush of disappointment.
Kris opens their mouth.
They think—This time, I’ve got it. Say something normal. “You look fine,” “It’s fine”, “It’s—
“Cute.”
They slap a hand over their mouth a second too late.
Even so, Ralsei looks more delighted than ever. His mouth parts in a small ‘oh’, a shy smile tugging at the corners. “If Kris says so...”
Behind them, Susie lets out a snort that turns into a full wheeze.
“Oh my god,” she coughs, wiping her eyes. “This is the best day of my life.”
The soul, on the other hand, purrs smugly inside their chest. It’s pleased, victorious once again. You did great, it seems to say, thudding contentedly against their ribs. Do it again.
Kris stares straight ahead, willing their pulse to slow. Absolutely fucking not.
The walk to the festival helps to calm down their nerves. Kris keeps their head angled toward the path, giving their face time to lose the red tint that has been clinging to them since Ralsei unwillingly came out of the church. He doesn’t say much either, but they can feel the weight of his gaze landing on Kris’s back every now and then.
Susie, in contrast, practically jumps with excitement the entire way down the hill.
She’s put a lot of effort into her look today, wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows and a freshly ironed shirt borrowed from Asriel’s closet. The sudden change is obvious enough to be suspicious—She’d been so jittery about meeting Noelle here that she actually asked Toriel for advice.
Susie yelps. “Oh my god, are those lights!?”
The trees ahead thin out, and suddenly the festival spills into view in full.
There are strings of golden lights stretching from pole to pole like tiny constellations pulled down within reach. Booths line the street in messy, colorful rows. Kris has never seen so many games, food stands, or cheap prizes hanging in clusters in years. The music isn’t so bad either, just slightly distorted, but a pleasant tune nonetheless.
The festival crowd thickens as they round the corner past a balloon vendor, where monster kid nearly collides with them mid-sprint, foam sword in his mouth. Susie sidesteps just in time, giving him a dirty look. She doesn’t threaten people anymore. At least, not as often. Seems like the Dark World gave her somewhere to put all that bite without the bullying. That, and Kris’s plushies.
Ralsei oohs and ahhs from the moment they pass their first stand. It should be getting on Kris’s nerves more than it does, but seeing him like this is a clear improvement from the quiet, withdrawn mood he’s been stuck in all week.
The summer dress is short enough to let him move comfortably through the crowd, but long enough to keep the magic runes on his legs out of sight. There isn’t much to be done about the dark markings on his neck, but at least his arms are covered. Kris still can’t believe Susie of all people had the foresight to get him a soft-looking green sweater to match. Seriously, where is that fashion sense on a normal school day?
Either way, it’s a good thing. Excellent, even. Kris feels a little guilty for not wanting to come in the first place, having rather abandoned Ralsei to third wheel on his own while they stuffed their face at home. At least now they can suffer together.
As if on cue, they spot Noelle hiding behind the churros stand. She’s anxiously picking at her two blonde braids, which look uncannily similar to the churros themselves, while scanning the crowd. Once her eyes land on the group, she walks over quickly to Susie’s side.
“Susie! I can’t believe you’re really here. Oh, and there’s Kris too, and…”
Ralsei, who’d been lost in his own world until now, straightens instinctively under the attention, hands clasping together in front of him. “H-hello! It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Ralsei.”
Susie jumps in before he can say more. “Yeah! Rals here is that british kid I told you about yesterday on the phone. Totally normal guy from Newdon, yeah?”
“Newdon,” Kris deadpans. This earns them a sharp elbow to the ribs.
Noelle, bless her, doesn’t question it. Or maybe she does, and just chooses not to press. She’s always been quick to smooth things over. Though a bit hesitant, she steps forward and offers her hand. “Nice to meet you too, hope the move hasn’t been too hard on you.”
“Not at all,” he says, shaking her hand like he’s holding a porcelain vase. “Everyone has been very kind so far.”
Kris gives them the side eye. They wave a dismissive hand in front of Noelle’s face. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have a date to get to, Ellie?”
It’s probably better for everyone involved if Noelle doesn’t learn too much about Ralsei just yet. The whole British transfer student facade might hold up for now, but if this is going to be a regular occurrence, they’re going to need something more solid. Preferably a backstory that involves a real place.
It’s not that Kris doesn’t trust Noelle to keep a secret. It’s just that she folds under pressure easily, and Carol doesn’t take kindly to being kept in the dark, especially when it comes to a new face in Hometown.
They make a signal with a flip of their hair, praying to the Angel above that Susie will catch on.
Her eyebrows shoot up in response. She stammers, already steering Noelle away from Ralsei by the shoulders.
“Right. Noelle, c’mon. There’s this, uh—thing I wanted to show you.” Susie says.
“Is it the stand with the man with all those hot dogs on his head? Because I just walked past it.”
“The whuh?” she quickly shakes her head. “No! I thought you’d like to see the lights by the lake. They’re super romantic.”
Noelle flushes about ten different shades of red before combing fingers through her braids again. She glances back at Kris and Ralsei, clearly looking for support, but all Kris offers is a very unhelpful thumbs up. Ralsei joins in, looking lost.
“I guess I would,” she says weakly.
Susie’s arm is now circling her shoulders. Noelle doesn’t say goodbye as she gets pulled towards the rocky path on the side of the hill—she seems ten seconds away from having a heart attack anyways, so it’s understandable.
To their surprise, it’s actually Susie who glances back mid-stride, flashing Kris a mischievous wink before breaking into a run.
They hate this. Kris shoots her a glare sharp enough to burn through steel, then instinctively lift a hand to flip her off, even though she’s already disappearing into the crowd, and won’t see it. Not that it matters, it’s the principle of it.
Now alone, Ralsei digs a tiny hole in the dirt with the tip of his foot. He looks troubled. It’s the same expression he gets when the prophecy gets mentioned in the Dark World. That, or whenever Kris tries to pry any personal information out of him.
Kris’s chest tugs involuntarily at the sight. “Hey, Ellie’s cool. We can tell her the truth some other day.”
“It’s fine.”
“Let’s check out some of the stands. They put out a new game this year called ‘Catch the angel’. Ridiculous, I know. Anyway, it’s definitely better than bobbing for apples.”
Ralsei sighs. He tugs at the sleeve of Kris’s sweater, one hand curled around his middle like he’s protecting himself from a blow to the stomach. “I’m sorry Kris, I know you expected to spend the evening with your friends.”
‘Instead of having to be stuck with me’ goes unsaid. Kris swallows nervously and scratches at the back of their neck. Their sweater is new; Toriel crocheted it a couple days ago, which means it’s still a little prickly at the edges. Not that the bugs under their skin are the sweater’s fault.
(Hug Ralsei.)
They bite the inside of their cheek. “It’s cool. I don’t know when it will be the next time we can get you outside, so we have to make the most of it. We don’t need Susie for that.”
Ralsei’s mouth hangs open. “Are you sure?”
(Hug Ralsei.)
“Yep,” If only to satisfy the itch, they take Ralsei’s hand to pull him along. "I'm the master of fun."
The caramel apple stand isn’t anything special. It’s just a plastic table set up beside a folding cart, with rows of glossy red apples lined like trophies across a checkered cloth. The vendor, a talking mouth with eyeballs, waves at them and points at their different variety of products.
Kris’s hand stays in Ralsei’s for one stubborn second longer than necessary. Turns out, it’s a challenge to keep track of Ralsei’s whereabouts when they’re not drowned in darkness and magic. He’s like a tiny chihuahua about to get stepped on at every turn, and Kris, their shitty owner who has to yell at everyone to back off.
Well, perhaps they’re exaggerating. He’s more like an impressionable child who’s having the best day of his entire life.
“Two-for-one tonight,” the mouth at the stand says. “Festivals really bring out the romance, huh?”
Buy him one, the soul orders.
It's hard to look at Ralsei right now. Then again, when is it ever not? Silently, Kris steps forward and digs out a few wrinkled bills from their pocket. All the apples look the same, but there's a single one covered in a pinkish hue that catches Kris’s attention.
“Ah, this one?” the vendor asks politely, setting the apple on a napkin. He stops to look at Ralsei, who’s swaying at the rhythm of the music a few feet away. The yellow light washes over him, catching on the edges of his fur. It makes him look impossibly soft and, much to their dismay, extremely huggable. “Cute date, by the way.”
Kris draws in a breath, ready to correct him, but stop themselves before the first syllable forms. There is no point in arguing with a stranger in the middle of a crowded walkway, not with the possibility of Ralsei overhearing and asking Kris what a date is. Instead, they take the apple with a faint frown and turn away from the stall. The mouth chuckles.
Kris immediately offers it to Ralsei, practically shoving it in his face.
“For me?”
“Try it.”
Ralsei swallows but obeys anyway. He takes the apple in his hands, studying the thick, glossy shell with quiet curiosity. The caramel has hardened into a crisp sheen, sticky and golden, and it tugs a little at the napkin wrapped around the stick. He leans in, trying a tentative bite, but pulls back almost immediately when his teeth fail to make a dent.
He glances at Kris. “I don’t think I can—”
For fuck’s sake. Kris yanks it back, tilts their head slightly, and sinks their teeth into it with a satisfying crunch. The caramel cracks, giving way to the soft fruit beneath.
When they give it back, Ralsei accepts it with both hands. He stares at the bitten edge for a moment, then takes a small bite on top of Kris’s crooked teeth marks.
They don’t know why this gesture makes their mouth oddly tingly. And the soul eerily quiet.
“It’s amazing,”
He licks a smear of caramel from the edge of his paw and takes another bite with more confidence. Ralsei looks on the verge of tears as he devours the rest of it as if it’s his last meal on earth, getting caramel stuck on his white fur that’ll surely be a bitch to clean later—If his Dark World superpowers don’t have a way to instantly remove stains.
“I’ll definitely learn how to make these for you guys back at the castle,” Ralsei comments, licking the remnants of the apple from his fingers. “I’ve never had anything quite like it. Not that I need the sustenance, but…you understand.”
“Yeah,” They say, mouth dry.
“Thank you, Kris.”
“You could have them more often. If you wanted,” Could he? They’d rather not think about it. “My mom knows the recipe. I bet hers are even better.”
Ralsei’s ears perk upwards, and he nods eagerly.
They visit a couple more food stands before moving onto the games. Ralsei insists on buying a cup of hot cider just to hold between his paws for warmth, even though he barely takes a couple sips. Kris doesn't comment on it. They're too busy watching the steam curl around Ralsei’s glasses, fogging the lenses until he has to wipe them clean with the hem of his borrowed sweater.
They visit a couple more food stands before moving onto the games. As expected, most of them are rigged. When Kris was a kid, they’d usually spend an entire day at the ring toss with the hoops that bounce off the pegs like rubber bands until spending all of their allowance. Back then, Noelle had been their saving grace. She was (is) filthy rich, and was always happy to loan them some money in exchange for showing her a fun time without Carol’s overbearing remarks.
Luckily for Kris’s wallet now, they’ve gotten significantly better at deciphering the mechanics of these stands over the years. Which is why they march immediately toward the booth where Burgerpants is slouching behind the counter, candy cigarette dangling from his lips.
Ralsei's raspberry eyes scan the rows of plushies and toys lining the stall's back wall. He thinks they're all wonderfully adorable, and tells Kris as much. It's funny, because words like "wonderfully adorable" totally sound like something a British kid would say, but hey, who are they to judge? Either way, while he blabbers on about it, his attention appears particularly drawn to the biggest, ugliest bear plushie sitting alone on the top shelf.
"—and the way its little arms are positioned, like it's asking for a hug, isn't that just the most endearing thing you've ever—oh, Kris, where are you going?"
Kris is already at the counter.
Burgerpants flinches back like he’s just seen the devil. “Ah jeez, what do you want kid? Is Azzy with you, by the way?”
"I want to play," they say, not missing a beat by pointing at the game behind him. A row of milk bottles. Standard fare. "For the biggest prize."
Ralsei puts a hand on their shoulder. “Kris, I appreciate your interest in showing me your lightner games, but really, there’s no need.”
They shake their head and pull out a five dollar bill. Kris slides it across the counter with determination flashing behind their eyes. Burgerpants swallows nervously, but takes it anyway. “Kris, buddy, this game's not exactly... I mean, the bottles are kinda,"
They inhale deeply. Kris doesn’t need his half-assed explanation when they already know the bottles might as well be fused to the table and one little ball won’t do anything to move them. This is going to be a challenge. Especially because sadly they can’t exactly bring their super strength and ninja skills to the Light World like they expected. They’ll need to rely on nothing but their own arm strength.
Which isn’t much to begin with, so they’re going to use the soul to their advantage for a change of pace. Not fair or whatever, they couldn’t care less—what matters is showing Ralsei some fun, and not only because they’re dying to catch a glimpse of his glowing smile again.
“I’ll be rooting for you, Kris!”
They pick up the first ball, weighing it in their hand. As always, light as a feather. They close their eyes and try to imagine the physical form of the soul resting behind their ribs. It stirs a little, like it knows it’s being watched. Sometimes, living with it feels like sharing a body with another person, someone who is Kris, but also entirely different. They suppose the best way to describe it would be calling it an annoying twin sibling. Kris wishes they would’ve eaten it inside the womb, if that were the case.
Kris doesn’t know the logistics needed for conjuring up the soul without any valid reason. It usually comes out whenever it wants, especially when they’re in the Dark World or while talking to Ralsei. So it might take a while. After a minute goes by and Burgerpants starts scratching his beard awkwardly, they decide the soul is going to obey them no matter what.
They start thinking about Ralsei, and how disappointed he’d be if he doesn’t get that bear. He wouldn’t show it, of course. The guy’s got a serious complex when it comes to being treated as a human being—hell, he could be an alien, and Kris would still think he deserves happiness just like anybody else. It just so happens that Ralsei’s happiness might actually be their happiness too. And isn’t that great? Like a two for one sale.
The soul grows warmer, brighter. Kris tightens their grip on the ball.
The change is immediate. Subtle if you’re not looking for it, but Kris feels it all the way down to their bones. It starts with a shift in tension, the alignment of muscle and motion snapping into something sharper, something not theirs. The throw comes flying faster than a rocket ship, making the ball slam into the base of the stack with a dull cling. The entire structure collapses in on itself with a violent clatter, bottles scattering across the table and rolling to the floor. It’s loud enough that it draws a few glances, but it isn’t nearly as good as watching Burgerpants’ face grow red in disbelief.
“...What,” he says, flat and hollow.
“You did it!” Ralsei says, stepping closer, his voice bright with genuine excitement. “Kris, that was amazing!”
They smile too. “Damn right I did.”
Burgerpants drags a hand down his face, already reaching for the bear. “Alright, fine, whatever. Take your dumb bear and get out of my life.”
Ralsei starts to protest, something polite and unnecessary forming on his lips, but it dies the moment Burgerpants drops the thing into Kris’s arms. It’s heavier than it looks, all awkward weight and oversized limbs, and Kris barely pauses before turning and shoving it straight into Ralsei’s chest.
“I really can’t take it Kris, you’ve already done so much for me. It’s your prize!”
“Come on,” They insist. Sometimes, he can be so difficult. “It’s no big deal, I know you love it.”
Ralsei hums and hesitates. He reaches out to grab at the soft fabric of the bear, sighing as it gives under the pressure of his fingers. It must be really soft. “Also,” they add, a little sharper than necessary, “I got it for you. So it’d be kinda rude not to take it.”
Ralsei blinks, caught off guard, then lets out a small, flustered laugh. “…Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to be rude.”
He gathers the bear properly into his arms this time, adjusting his grip so it doesn’t slip. It’s comically oversized against him, its limbs draping over his shoulders, its crooked face resting just beneath his chin. For a second, he just stands there, looking down at it like he’s not entirely sure what to do next. “I’ve never had anything that was mine before. I’ll treasure it forever.”
He hugs the bear impossibly close. The sight makes Kris’s chest do cartwheels and jumping jacks. It takes a bit for them to compose themselves enough to form a coherent answer. At least, it was all worth it.
“…You’re welcome,” they mutter.
“Hey,” Burgerpants says with a dry cough, immediately ruining the moment. “You’re gonna miss the fireworks. If you wanna take your cute girlfriend sightseeing, you might wanna hurry.”
“C-cute?”
“That’s a guy,” Kris cuts in flatly, already turning away. Not before taking a firm hold of Ralsei’s hand. “And not my girlfriend.”
A couple yards away, Burgerpants yells after them from the stand. “Tell Azzy I miss him!”
Eventually, the crowd thins around a wide clearing near the edge of the hill, where patches of trampled grass and checkered blankets mark the unofficial firework-watching area.
They don’t know how long they’d been walking for, but somehow they’ve managed to find their way to the girls again. Susie’s leaning against the hot dog cart with her arms crossed, one boot planted against the wheel. Her mouth is full of crumbs as she speaks. Noelle stares, completely enamoured, holding a plastic cup with yellow liquid inside.
It’s weird though. Instead of feeling like throwing up, the glint in Noelle’s smitten eyes evoque a deep sense of understanding within Kris. It’s only fair, they suppose—There’s nothing quite like engaging in good conversation and greasy food to match.
But that’s not all of it. Their attention travels over to Ralsei, who’s holding the ugly plushie with almost as much reverence as he did with Kris’s half bitten apple. There’s nothing they haven’t seen before; the rounded curve of his snout, the baby pink of his ears or the classic round frames resting on top of them.
It’s just cute. Susie was right, the dress and everything is a good look on him. There’s no other definition for it. It’s also making Kris want to rip their soul out in front of everybody and step on it until it wilts and dies.
The moment is over when the cart stumbles and Susie chokes in surprise. Noelle yells. And of course it’s up to Kris to run and save her, even if they can’t resist laughing their ass off in the process.
Once she’s calmed down, Susie wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Fucking hell, I thought I was done for.”
“This is karma, you know. For making us third-wheel on your date.” They put an arm around Ralsei’s shoulder, giving it a playful squeeze.
For a split second it seems like she’s going to punch Kris, but then her eyes catch on the toy Ralsei’s still holding to his chest, and her mouth curls into an evil smile.
“It’s not third wheeling if you’re on a date too, dingus. That’s called a—“
“Double date!?” Noelle beams, now holding Ralsei by the collar.
Kris groans from the back of their throat. What’s with everyone today? “Yeah, sure, double date.”
Susie looks even more ecstatic, probably eager to keep on teasing them like the big bully she is. Next time, Kris will come to the festival alone and only invite Ralsei, who apparently is the only sensible person in this town.
A sharp hiss splits the air, fast and sudden, and then a burst of white fractures high above them, blooming outward in a clean, blinding circle. The light spills over the clearing in a pale wash, catching on glasses, teeth, the glossy surface of the plastic cups in their hands. Another one follows immediately. They’re so many different colours and shapes—some Kris doesn’t think they’ve seen on display since the major got elected. Guess they really decided to go all out this year.
Beside them, Susie nudges Noelle with her shoulder. “Your mom must be crazy about fireworks.”
Ralsei hums approvingly. The bear plush dips to one side as he adjusts his grip, and in the process, his shoulder brushes against Kris’s, sending tingles up their spine.
“I know I’ve said it a thousand times, but I really am thankful I got to be here today.” He looks up at Kris, eyelashes fluttering.
The soul pulses like a drum. (Hug Ralsei)
“Hey,”
Ralsei turns, just slightly. “Yes?”
(Hug Ralsei)
There’s a dozen things they could say, but none of them feel right. Kris has never been much for words, and frankly they’re afraid anything they might say could send Ralsei spiraling into existential dread and withdrawing from the conversation entirely. They should thread carefully, the least thing they want to do is scare him off.
“…Nothing,”
(Kiss Ralsei)
Another firework tears across the sky; white, then gold, then a cascade of pink, dissolving into the night. There are so many people out here. If Kris starts walking around, chances are they’ll find their classmates making out under a tree, which is honestly as good as it gets for an excuse to stay exactly where they are. They move their arm so it can rest around Ralsei’s shoulders, with their heads pressed together.
Kris leans in just enough, glancing twice toward the girls to make sure they aren’t looking, and the thought hits them all at once that this might be a crazy idea. But crazy stopped meaning anything a long time ago, back when the world first cracked open and showed them something deeper than it was ever supposed to hold, something full of prophecy and shadows and choices that don’t always feel like theirs. Kris doesn’t know what their future looks like, not really, not beyond the vague certainty that it’s heading somewhere dark and probably dangerous, and if the prophecy is real—if any of it is real—then there’s no guarantee Ralsei is part of what comes after, no promise that he can stay, or that the Light World will ever make space for someone like him.
For all the distance they try to keep, the idea of a future that doesn’t include Ralsei feels wrong in a way that nothing else does, and maybe that’s what makes it all worth the risk, because if there’s a chance none of this lasts, then they don’t want to spend what little time they have pretending it doesn’t mean anything.
(Kiss Ralsei)
Kris cranes their neck and presses a quick, quiet kiss to Ralsei’s cheek.
“Kris!” he whispers furiously. His face burns a bright, impossible shade beneath his fur.
“Sorry,” they mutter. “I just felt like it, is all.”
“I—I don’t mind!” he blurts, then immediately lowers his voice again, glancing around like the night itself might overhear him. “I don’t mind, I just wasn’t…prepared.”
Kris huffs. “We’ll find a way to get you to stay here for real. I promise.”
Ralsei’s eyes grow wide and glassy, ears dipping down as he burrows his head deeper in the crook of Kris’s neck.
“Alright,” he says, a little sad. “I believe in you, Kris.”
Kris squeezes him tighter.
Susie’s voice shakes them out of their stupor. During their short conversation, her and Noelle have already moved to sit down on a soft patch of grass a couple feet away. Kris can only hope they didn’t hear or see any of that. “Yo! Lovebirds! You coming or what!?”
“The fireworks are over, you know.” Noelle says, lifting her eyebrows in a suggestive way.
“Shut up,” Kris calls back flatly, but there’s no real bite to it as they finally step away, nudging Ralsei lightly with their shoulder. “Don’t forget, okay?”
“Okay.”
The walk back to the church is silent. The lights are gone and the crowd has begun to thin. Even so, Ralsei is still there beside them, close enough that their sleeves brush every few steps.
(Hold his hand)
This time, Kris doesn’t need to be told twice.