[ Noelle's laughter shivers through him like a breeze through chimes. Krouse feels it everywhere they touch, in the birdlike flutter of her shoulders inside his arms and the puff of her breath over his skin.
He loved her laugh the first time he surprised it out of her. He loved it every time after. He loves it now, dusty and sweet.
When she draws him away he takes it with him like a crumpled note tucked into his palm. He goes without clinging, but his fingers skim her arms one more time on the way down, like she holds onto some faint gravity he can't resist until he's pulled out of her orbit. ]
Okay. [ He says, on his way down. ] I'll give you space.
[ Time and necessity eroded so much of Noelle's privacy. Her body turned into a traitor, spilling her secrets out in angry scrawls of mutation. The worse it got, the more Krouse had to see, knowing how much she hated the new wet and bilious intimacy forced on her.
But as he backs up, bumping into an as-yet intact hospital bed and hoisting himself up to sit on its edge, he watches her face to judge if he'll look away. He's already seen everything there is to see about her, inside and out. He knows what her bones look like, glistening and raw. He watched her tear open and knit back together, spew bodies and blood with equally frantic urgency. There's no shadow left behind the curtain. There's just her. There was only ever just her. ]
cw: body horror, ableism
He loved her laugh the first time he surprised it out of her. He loved it every time after. He loves it now, dusty and sweet.
When she draws him away he takes it with him like a crumpled note tucked into his palm. He goes without clinging, but his fingers skim her arms one more time on the way down, like she holds onto some faint gravity he can't resist until he's pulled out of her orbit. ]
Okay. [ He says, on his way down. ] I'll give you space.
[ Time and necessity eroded so much of Noelle's privacy. Her body turned into a traitor, spilling her secrets out in angry scrawls of mutation. The worse it got, the more Krouse had to see, knowing how much she hated the new wet and bilious intimacy forced on her.
But as he backs up, bumping into an as-yet intact hospital bed and hoisting himself up to sit on its edge, he watches her face to judge if he'll look away. He's already seen everything there is to see about her, inside and out. He knows what her bones look like, glistening and raw. He watched her tear open and knit back together, spew bodies and blood with equally frantic urgency. There's no shadow left behind the curtain. There's just her. There was only ever just her. ]