Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are in love with a goddess.

Well, she isn't technically a goddess, but she's the closest thing to one. No one could have skin that pale and be human, right? Well, except for your friend Kanaya, but you are almost 100% that she is a vampire, and not a human being who simply does not get enough sun and has been blessed (cursed?) with fair skin. Certainly not. Back to the point. She cannot be human. Even her name was beautiful. Aradia Megido. Just thinking about it makes you flush like some of the girls do when your older brother passes them. Oh yes, do you have it bad for Aradia Megido. And you aren't alone. In your fifteen years of life never have you seen an entire crowd of hormonal, brutish teenagers clear a path as quickly as you've seen them do for her. With wide eyes they would whisper behind their hands, gasping at the way her hips would sway as she walked down the hallway, smiling with a warmth that would rival the sun as she spoke animatedly with your school's resident princess, Feferi Peixes. The two were about as similar as a ram and a fish; if Feferi was the Sun, then Aradia was the moon. Where Feferi was bright and bubbly, Aradia was mysterious and moody. Aradia was only seen at school events arm in arm with her friend, and even then she hardly looked enthusiastic to be there (you could spend hours daydreaming about the way her face looked when she was sulking moodily in one corner of the bleachers). Feferi was on the both the swimming and diving teams, she managed volleyball team, was president of the freshman class in the student council, and often spent her time helping at the local animal shelter.

Even the way they looked was one big contradiction. Feferi dressed on the verge of garish, countless gold bracelets clinking on her arms with every movement; short skirts in bright blues and greens worn with fuchsia tops that bared her stomach and shoulders in a way that would certainly be considered breaking the dress code if it wasn't for her mother's influence on the town. There wasn't a person here who didn't know her mother's name, and it clearly showed in how much she and her sister were able to get away. The silver spoon in their mouth certainly hadn't left-if anything, it had only gotten bigger. Her skin was tanned and freckled by the sun, her hair a constant whirlwind with all her time spent in the pool. She was lean, toned, and could probably beat anyone in a fight, if she were the sort to get into them. Aradia, on the other hand, wore black like it was going out of style, favoring burgundy if color was deemed necessary. Her skirts were long, and if she did wear pants (your heart skips a beat at the very thought) they sat high on her waist and clung to her legs, netting often showing through the holes in the knees. She preferred shirts with belled sleeves and lace on the collar. Where Feferi showed skin, Aradia hid it.

Her hair created a dark curtain around her entire being, and if she wore it up it was always done in styles so intricate it made your head spin. You tried to draw her, sometimes, but you were never able to capture the soft curves of her body and round face. And God, had you tried. You wonder if it's because you've never gotten close enough to see properly; the only chances you got to see her were when you managed to squeeze between the mass surrounding her throughout her descent through the hallways. It was enough, though, to send your heart into a panic and make your throat tighten so much you wondered how you had ever been able to breath knowing that she even existed, let alone be in a place where you could see her. You have hope, though, that this incoming school year would give you the chance the actually see her. Maybe even talk to her. If you can even wrack up the nerve to approach her, that is. Your brother had been helping, even going so far as to take you out with his friends so you could become more comfortable around other people. You loved him for it, admired him more than you already did, and sometimes you wonder why he even bothered with you. Rufioh Nitram was a living wet dream, confident and sexy and everything you wanted to be. Next to him, you were nothing. A waste of space, barely worth the time he gave you. And you tried, God, did you try and earn it. You went to his parties, you spoke to his friends (when they spoke to you first, of course), you showed him your art when he asked now instead of hiding it.

"Tavros, you there buddy?" You are snapped out of your musing by a gentle tapping on your forehead.

"Sorry Rufioh," you stutter, looking up apologetically.

"It's alright. What you drawin' there, buddy?" Rufioh stoops down to get a better look at your sketchbook, and you feel your face warm as you hold it out so he can see it better. "Ah, that Megido girl, huh?" You let out a flustered groan and he laughs good-naturedly, ruffling your hair before straightening himself. "You know, that doll she hangs out with is hosting a party tonight. You're more than welcome to tag along, if you'd like?" You can hear the unspoken plea in his words. Tavros, you're never going to get her if you stay inside and play Pokémon all day. "I'd be there the whole time. All you'd have to do is text me and I'll come find you and we'd go home, okay?" You look up at him, unsure which you fear more-actually going out, or disappointing him. You settle on the former, and grin weakly at him. It's totally worth it, because he beams at you before stepping back enough to allow you to stand up. "Sorry I took so long, coach decided it was the perfect time to tell us his life story, in full detail." He reaches out a hand to steady you when your legs shake, the concern on his face making your heart melt. God, you didn't deserve a brother like him. "I'm fine," you whisper, before trying again with a bit more confidence. "I'm fine. My legs just fell asleep, is all." Rufioh seems to relax a little, but still keeps a hand on your shoulders as you begin walking. "Was the rest of practice okay?"

"Yeah, it was pretty average. Horuss came and watched. It was a little embarrassing, to be honest." Rufioh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, face flushed. "It was sweet of him, though."

"Is he going tonight?" You perk up a little at the thought. Horuss was Rufioh's boyfriend, and while his younger brother was very intimidating (you shudder just thinking about him), Horuss was a lot easier to talk to. Maybe because he was around so much? If all else failed, you could probably talk to Horuss (when your brother wasn't trying to devour his face, that is). Rufioh hummed in thought before answering, "Yeah, he's coming along. He'll meet us there, though." You sigh in relief, and he raises an eyebrow but doesn't press, gently nudging you towards the door. "You can get lost in that head of yours when we get in the car, alright." He lets go of your shoulder and picks up his pace, causing you to grin and chase after him. For all his popularity, your brother could be a real kid sometimes. Not that you minded. If anything, it made it easier to talk to him. If he was the cool, confident person people made him out to be, you might never speak with him. No, you liked this Rufioh much better. He waited for you at the doors of school, grinning at you like someone he adored (Rufioh said he loved you a lot, would write notes with cute doodles and stick them in your sketchbook as a reminder) and you must have made a funny expression because he laughs, reaching out to tousle your hair before he began leading you through the parking lot. It was practically empty, only the cars of football players left, and it wasn't hard to find your brother's truck, but he acts as if it's an adventure, quietly narrating your journey in the crisp fall air like a nature documentary. And you laugh, because he's doing it to make you happy, and when you look his smile is so wide you worry that it hurts.

"Tavros?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you're coming tonight." Your eyes widen at that, and you're so shocked that you actually stopped getting into the truck. Rufioh doesn't look at you, staring holes into the steering wheel. "God, this is going to sound so stupid, but I've always wanted to take you to one of these. It's so dumb, really, but I just. I worry about you, Tavros, and I worry about what's going to happen to you when I'm going to college. I just want to make sure you've got someone who will take care of you when I'm gone. And I know that's a long time from now, and that you're strong enough to handle yourself, but you're my little brother and fuck," Your eyes widen at that. Rufioh never swear unless he's really upset, and your fingers tighten on the door in response. "You're my little brother, Tavros. You're all the family I've got." He finally turns to look at you, and your heart squeezes so tight you're worried it will stop beating when you notice how wet his eyes are. "I just love you a whole bunch, you know?" You don't know. You honestly, truly, do not know how much your brother loves you. That's why he leaves notes, that's why he's getting so emotional over taking you to a high school party. You try to speak but your throat is too tight, but he seems to understand because he grins suddenly. "Coming?"

Your name is Aradia Megido, and almost all the world hates you.

This is not an understatement, nor is an exaggeration. From the moment you moved to this small town, you had all eyes on you. For better or worse. Luckily for you, you had at least one friend, and she was enough to keep you from serious injury. And even if some harm had come to you because of the small-minded inhabitants of this town, you know their would be hell to pay. Because Feferi Peixes would kill a man the moment she learnt they had hurt one of her (surprisingly few) friends. And if the impending doom brought by her rage was not intimidating enough, then it was her mother and sister who scared them off. Meenah Peixes picked more fights than anyone the school district (which was saying something, because there were schools in some of the sketchiest, roughest neighborhoods) and she never, ever got caught. And if she did, she only needed to bat her eyelashes and mention her mother's name to get off scot free. Her mother was a powerful business tycoon, and she had more influence than most governing bodies had over their countries. The Peixes family was powerful, intimidating, and quite possibly the only reason you were surviving in this school.

Your older sister, Damara, certainly didn't help things. With her crude language, constant smoking throughout the school, and her playing of the "I am a foreigner and cannot speak the language" card, she caused nothing but problems and ruined most attempts at making any friends. Or getting along with your teachers. Because everyone and their brother had heard of Damara Megido, and, by extension, you. It certainly didn't bother you as much as it had in the past (going to nearly five different schools within the past two years does that) but it still hurts. You're thankful that this time you weren't alone in this whole mess. Sure, you had people you associated with at your other schools (namely a boy named Dave and his half-sister Rose) but they never were as close as you were Feferi. She was the light at the end of a very dark, very lonely tunnel. Speaking of Feferi...

"Araydia," the other girl whined, dragging out the vowel sounds for as long as she could before taking a gasping breath. "You're going to come tonight, aren't you?" You don't even need to look at her to know she's making puppy eyes, bottom lip stuck out in an adorable pout. Instead you pointedly study one burgundy painted nail (the same nail, in fact, that you had studied when Feferi had brought this up mere moments ago). "Please? It'll be so boring with you."

"I'll do nothing but sit there and be moody," you retort, but your resolve is already crumbling.

"Please," she snatches your hand in both of her, effectively drawing your full attention to her. "Pretty please? You can stay the night and we can watch Indiana Jones if you want and..."

"Alright," you cut her off gently, smiling softly when she squeals in delight. "I'll come. Promise you won't do anything too crazy?" Feferi hums, releasing your hand. "Feferi?"

"I can't promise that, Araydia," she giggles. "It's Meenah's party, not mine. There's going to be a lot of seniors. Nepeta said she'd come, though!"

"So, if all else fails, you get to sit and fawn over your crush while I sigh at your lack of courage to ask her out on a proper date?" Feferi flushes prettily, and in her embarrassment throws her arms around you and buries her face in your chest.

"You're so marine, Araydia," she whines, and you lightly pat the top of her head, feeling awkward. A few of the student council members are looking at you (Feferi insisted that you eat lunch with them so you "wouldn't be by yourself, you killifish") like you've committed some unforgivable sin. Perhaps to them you had. You lean forward so you won't be heard by anyone else in the room, knowing you must look ridiculous whispering into the mass of Feferi's curls. "Would you feel better if I let you pick out my outfit?"

"Yes!" Feferi startles you with how fast she pops up, nearly hitting your chin in the process. She's smiling, though, and you can't help but smile back. Someone clears their throat and she turns to them, annoyance barely hidden on her face. "If you don't mind, Miss Peixes, we would like to return to our meeting."

"Go on," you murmur, untangling her hands from where they had settled on your thighs. "Don't worry about me."

"Okay," she glances at you before turning her attention back to the other student council members. You block out whatever it is they're saying by turning your attention back to your lunch. Carefully you move some of the small tuna wraps to the side (Feferi would ask for them regardless) and pop a grape in your mouth. One of the student's is watching you, brows furrowed like he's looking at a math problem that he doesn't understand. It makes you uncomfortable, and you shift nervously, rolling another grape between your fingers to fight the urge to bring them to your mouth. Taking a steadying breath, you pointedly meet his judgmental gaze with a cold one of your own. This causes him to falter, and he nervously turns his attention to the papers in front of him. You see Feferi's lips curl in an artificially sweet smile, and you almost feel sorry for the boy when she goes, "So, Mr. Zahhak, what do you think?" The boy splutters, completely flustered by her intense gaze, and you can already see beads of sweat appearing on your forehead. It makes you want to laugh, but you know that would not go over well, so you thoughtfully place another grape in your mouth and wait. He stutters out the beginnings of a few sentences, and then his gaze turns to you, almost as if he were asking for help. It makes you grin wickedly, and you tap your fingers impatiently on the table. It is the only noise you have made thus far, the only indicator that you were paying any attention at all, and this must have added some pressure to him, because he licks his lips and fumbles with the papers.

"Well?" Feferi urges, and she begins to rest her chin in the palm of her hand.

"I believe that you are right in saying the underclassmen should participate more in school events," he states lamely, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"And what about leading them? Doing campaigns of our own?" Feferi presses, straightening her posture. "What about doing more to help the students who can't afford their supplies? Leading study groups for those who are struggling in their classes? As members of the student council, do you think we should be doing more to start programs like these?" Your heart fills with pride as Feferi grows more and more passionate with every word she says, even going so far as to stand to better get her point across. She had always been a humanitarian, heart full of love for each and every thing that walked across this Earth. You still get overwhelmed when she directs that love and affection towards you. No one had ever stood up for you like this, so passionate and bold, willing to risk everything for you. Even if she wasn't saying your name, or even really implying that she was talking about this because of you, you knew that she did it for you. She knew you like the back of her hand, knew every incredibly shitty detail about your life, and still she stayed and fought battles for you that she never should have to. "As the student council, we should be supporting all students who walk through these halls. I will not tolerate anything less. If you aren't willing to agree to this, then you can resign right now."

The boy pales, hands gripping the table so tight you're worried it will shatter. The other members are looking between the two, and a few even look in your direction. The muscles in his neck flex, and you can almost hear his teeth grinding together with how tightly he's clenched his jaw. It makes you feel powerful, in a way, despite the shame curling in your chest because you can't even defend yourself, but Feferi looks like the cat who caught the canary and you wouldn't dare deny her the feeling of pleasure she got when defending you. The boy takes a steadying breath, though it appears to do little to actually calm him down. "Yes, Miss Peixes, I...understand." He speaks slowly, beads of sweat trailing down his sharp jawline and hands deathly white against the dark wood of the table. Feferi smiles, looking at him like he was one of the dogs who had performed a trick correctly at the animal shelter. It's condescending, in a way, but you swear there is color filling his cheeks in a way that makes him look like he's pleased by an unspoken praise given to him by the girl. It makes your blood boil, although you aren't entirely sure why, and your nails scratch against the table irritably. Feferi glances back at you, concern filling her face for but a moment before she slowly sits down. "I'm glad you understand. Now, shall we continue?" There are murmurs amongst the other members, and a few steadying breaths, and the boy looks at you, studying you intently. You straighten your shoulders, because you'll be damned if you let Feferi's efforts go to waste. You will not be bothered by this boy, and will not let him affect you. Daring him to try and challenge Feferi's unspoken threats you meet his intense gaze head on. He looks down after a moment, chewing on his lower lip, and part of you screams at this triumph, if you can even call it that.

"Can I bring my sketchbook with me?" Rufioh looks up from DS, considering you for a moment.

"You might have to explain to people what you're doing, and then you might have to show them your art. Would you be okay with that?" Rufioh says it slowly, as if he's worried that the very words will startle you. They do, a little bit, but you take a steadying breath. You've been working on this. If you don't want to show your art, you can just say no, right? "I'll be okay," your voice remains steady, surprising the both of you. Rufioh smiles proudly at you, and he hums his assent. "If you think you can handle it, then go ahead." You wriggle happily from your seat on the couch, and he shakes his head before returning to his game. Looking through your pencils for a moment, you grab one covered in orange tape and return to your drawing.

Unsurprisingly it was a drawing of Aradia Megido. You had been studying Ancient Greece in English, and had been inspired by the legends of gods and goddess to draw some of your own. You already had done drawings of Feferi and Kanaya as the goddesses of the sea and beauty, respectively. Now, you were working on perhaps your biggest piece of this set you've done so far. Inspired by her dark and somewhat intimidating aesthetic, you've decided to draw her as the goddess of death. But you weren't settling for dark and depressing. Oh no, Aradia was the goddess of death, and she was anything but upset by it. In your drawing, she is elegantly perched upon a throne of bones, smiling haughtily as she extends one hand. Her nails are long, almost claw like, and amongst her glorious curls are a pair of horns, curving elegantly inward. She looks young, too young to be Queen of Hell, but it somehow suits her. Currently you're trying to figure out how to color her hair so it is the proper shade of black. You almost want to go searching for a burgundy colored pencil and use that as a highlight instead of the whites and greys you had been using previously.

"You sure are thinking hard over there, Tavros. I can see the smoke." Rufioh teases lightly, and you can feel the heat creeping along the back of your neck. "What're you drawing now, buddy?"

"Aradia," you mumble, and your older brother laughs.

"Of course. You could show her your drawings tonight?" You violently shake your head, bringing your sketchbook close to your chest.

"No way," you stammer, "they aren't that good, anyway. There's no way she'd like them. Oh my god. Oh my god I didn't ask her permission. She's going to think I'm so weird oh my god." You're practically hyperventilating, hands beginning to tremble.

"Hey, hey, easy," Rufioh murmurs soothingly, carelessly setting his DS on the couch and making his way over to you. "Easy, Tauros, I've got you. You don't have to show her if you don't want to. And if I know anything about dolls, then I know she'd be super flattered to have been drawn, especially by you. It's clear how much you love her, Tavros. Shh, it's okay, don't cry. I'm right here. Promise." Rufioh brings his hands slowly to your face, gently cupping your cheeks. Despite his care you flinch, and he makes a soothing noise from the back of his throat. "That's it, Tav, just breath. In and out. Just like that. You're doing great. Just nice, deep breaths." He rubs soothing circles into your cheeks, leaning forward until his chin comes to rest on the top of your head. "I didn't mean to startle you so bad, Tav. Can you forgive me?"

"You didn't do anything," you hiccup, and Rufioh shushes you gently. "You didn't do anything."

"Easy, Tavros, easy. Take another breath for me? That's it, just like that. Can you let it out for me? Good job, Tavros." You feel embarrassed for having to be coddled like this, and it only makes you cry harder. God, you don't deserve this. Don't deserve him. Rufioh gently coaxes you into giving up your sketchbook and sets it next to you on the couch, moving to take both your hands in his. He rubs your palms, writing words into your skin with more care than he should. "Love you, Tavros. I love you, I love you, I love you." He murmurs the words like a prayer, and everywhere he touches feels like it's on fire. Every time you had a panic attack Rufioh would do this, get down on his knees so your difference in heights wasn't so severe, rub the numbness from your hands and murmur affirmations into your skin until they were practically tattooed there. He retaught you how to breathe, acting like this was the first time and not like this had been a near weakly occurrence only months ago. There had been times when he had left parties or dates to come to your aid when you called him, begging for him to come home because Dad wasn't there and the shadows were high on the walls and looked so much like Her you thought she was in the room with you.

"You're okay, Tavros, I've got you. I'm not going to let you go. I promise." You try and shake your hands free and he lets you, holding his arms out so you can ungracefully tip forward into them. He lets you cling to him, crying into your shoulders as your nails dig into his back. He shifts to accommodate you, trying to rub the tension from out of your shoulders. "Hey, Tavros, can we try something?" You nod into his shoulder with a little hiccup, and he hums soothingly. "Can you name the Pokémon in order? Let's do Gen 1, okay?" Another nod, and he lets you sit there another moment before nudging you gently. "Can you tell me number one, Tavros?"

"Bulbasuar," you stammer out, and he reaches up to run his fingers through your hair. "Uh, Ivysaur, Venusaur."

"Good, good, you're doing so good," he murmurs the words into your hair, bending awkwardly to do so, fingers moving to rub at the juncture between your neck and your shoulders. You sigh, already breathing easier, loosening your grip on him."Charmander, Charmeleon, Charizard," you start up again, and Rufioh begins to straighten. "Squirtle, Wartortle, Blastoise. Um, Caterpie?"

"Yep, you're right, keep going. Just like that."

"Metapod, Butterfree." Rufioh's hands still for a moment, thumbs tucked against the hollows behind your ears. "I'm okay," you whisper to him, "I'm okay, I'm sorry, thank you."

"Don't be sorry, Tavros. It's my fault. I'm sorry." His presses his thumbs firmly before he removes his hands entirely.

"I still want to go," you stammer, and suddenly his hands are back on you, running through your hair and pressing against your forehead like he's checking for a fever. "Rufioh?"

"You don't have to go," he insists, "if you don't feel comfortable. I know that I'm always pushing you to try new things, Tavros, but if you genuinely don't want to do something then tell me. We can stay home, and watch a movie, and get some cheap takeout. All you have to do is say so."

"I want to go," you repeat, although your voice still trembles. "And I'm going to bring my sketchbook."

"Thank you for protecting me." Feferi looks over at you, brows furrowed. "During the student council meeting." Her mouth makes a perfect 'o' and her eyebrows go up so high they get lost in her bangs.

"Oh, that was nofin'," she giggles, twirling a curl around her finger. "Besides, I didn't like the way he was lookin' at you."

"I'm practically swooning. Please, do catch me before I faint at how fast your possessiveness makes my heart beat." Feferi begins to laugh loudly, wriggling in her seat. "Oh, I can hear the angels already. Save me before it's too late."

"Araydia," the other girl manages between laughs, rubbing at her eyes. "You're too glubbin' funny."

"I certainly try," you hum, glancing out the window. "We should be at my house soon. Do you want to grab a bunch of things and decide at your house, or pick there?"

"We can pick there. It isn't until later, anyway. Can I do your makeup too?"

"I suppose," you let out an over exaggerated sigh, sending Feferi into another fit of giggles. "Do you have a game plan, or are you going to just go with the flow."

"Oh, I have a plan," you raise an eyebrow, and she tuts at you. "I can't just tell you! It'd ruin the surprise. Promise you'll wear whatever I pick?"

"Last time I promised that I was barley wearing anything," you retort, but there isn't any heat behind it.

"It was a swimsuit Araydia. Besides, you looked so cute in it! Showing off your cute little tummy and thighs. I would've kissed you if-"

"If you weren't so busy dying over the fact that Nepeta looked positively, or should I say, pawsitively adorable in her olive green one piece."

"Hey! I wasn't the only one doing some fawning that day." She argues weakly, and you smile fondly at her.

"Oh yes, because that date you tried to set me up on went absolutely swimmingly, didn't it."

"You can't deny his accent was cute, though. And how was I suppose to know he was gay!" She puffs out her cheeks at you and you burst into giggles. "I'm going to find you someone, I swear."

"The day you find me someone is also the day you confess your undying love for Nepeta, break the school records for diving, and inherit your mother's company."

"It's not that impossible, Araydia. There's gotta be someone who likes you as much as I do." You don't have the heart to tell her that, no, there probably isn't. So you smile weakly at her instead, shoulder sagging in defeat. "I'll wear whatever you put me in, Feferi." The squeal you get in response makes you roll your eyes, but you're genuinely comforted by her efforts to try and get you a significant other. It's cute, even if it has resulted in some awkward situations, but the stories the two of you have make every second worth it. The car pulls up to your house and the two of you exit, Feferi bidding the driver farewell with a giggle and wave of her hand. He flushes a bit under the attention, and awkwardly waves back before driving off. The other girl skips to the door, and you feel the familiar nerves tugging at your chest. No matter how many times Feferi came over you still got nervous about her seeing your house. She's practically vibrating as she waits for you to unlock the door, and the moment it's open she dashes inside, barely avoiding the coffee table as she heads to your room.

Shaking your head you trail slowly after her, kicking your shoes off and setting them neatly by the others. The house is in a total state of disarray, and you can smell the vestiges of cigarette smoke and something even stronger. It makes your stomach lurch, and you hope that Damara had only had a quick smoke and taken off afterwards. You want to clean, badly, but Feferi was waiting and if she found out what you were doing she would only try to help, and you don't want to embarrass yourself more than you already had. So you follow after her, maneuvering more carefully around the furniture towards your bedroom. The smell of smoke is stronger here, almost enough to make you gag, but you slip past Damara's door and head into your own room.

It's cleaner than the rest of the house (although that wasn't difficult) and Feferi is perched on your bed, wriggling happily when she sees you. As soon as you sit down she's up and rummaging through your closet. It makes you laugh, and you know that no matter what happens you're going to have fun. Because you trust Feferi, no matter what.

"Um, Rufioh? I don't...help?" Your brother turns to you with a grin, knowing what you were trying to say even if you couldn't get the words out.

"I'll be right there, Tavros." He calls back, typing something quickly on his phone before rising off the couch with a yawn. "Man, I don't even know what I'm going to wear."

"Something Horuss can easily take off," you mumble under your breath, flushing when Rufioh laughs loudly. He slings an arm around your shoulders, ruffling your hair roughly. You lean into him in response, nudging him just a bit closer to the wall. It's difficult, trying to walk through the hall together, but the two of you manage to successfully maneuver your way through the narrow hall and into your bedroom. At Rufioh's insistence you sit on the bed. And by insistence you mean he playfully shoved you towards the bed, you tripped over yourself, and fell back onto your bed. He rummages through your closet like he has a plan (you know from previous experience he doesn't) and eventually pulls back with several pieces of clothing balled in his hands. "Change. I'll be back in a minute." Rufioh leaves before you can even respond, clothes thrust haphazardly into your hands and the door barely shut behind him.

You almost want to laugh when you realize what he picked for you. It's all black, from shirt to socks, and they remind you more of a middle-school student than a high-school one, but it'sso you that you're reminded once again how thankful you are to have a brother like this. Carefully you remove your shirt and slip into the one he gave you. It's almost too small, which surprises you because you've barely grown since the end of seventh grade. Maybe you'd finally put on some muscle? Whatever the reason, you certainly don't mind. You're halfway into the jeans Rufioh had grabbed (thankfully they fit-you would have died of embarrassment if had seen you struggling to make your legs fit in a pair of skinny jeans) and he just grins at you in response, carefully making space on your dresser to set whatever it was he brought in on it. He had changed, too, you noticed; his worn t-shirt replaced with a black muscle tank and his jeans more stylishly ripped and patched.

What really catches your attentions are the messily placed bronze patches on whatever skin he could reach in the five minutes it took for him to change and bring himself back over. And when he finally turns back to you, it's with a pot of it in hand. "We all get colors when we go to Meenah's parties. She thinks it's fun. Ours is bronze. Sit down, yeah? It'll make it a lot easier. You'll look less of a disaster and more like it was intentional." He laughs, and you smile in response. Sure, Rufioh's paint (?) is messy, but it's wild and care free and more like him then he's probably willing to admit. You close your eyes when he tells you to, nose crinkling at the feeling of whatever he's smearing over your eyes. It's cold, and not at all paint like, and he tells you to remain really still while it dries so it doesn't crease. "That friend of yours, Kanaya? Her sister did my makeup last time. Gave me tips. I'll make sure to introduce you so she doesn't completely think her teachings went to waste." You try not to laugh at that, cringing a bit when he lightly brushes a clean finger over your eyes. "Alright, you can open 'em now."

You do as he says, blinking up at him. There are stripes in what you assume are the same bronze color over the highest points of his face, but the lines are streaky and uneven like he had done them in a rush. It makes you laugh, trying not to move to much so you don't jostle the other jars he had set beside you. Rufioh laughs back, waiting until you had stilled before beginning to apply the same technique (much neater and much carefully this time) on you. His fingers trace just above your cheekbones and along the sides of your forehead; he carefully does the tip of your nose and your chin. "There. Looking like a bronze statue my dude." You have to bite on your lip to keep from laughing, worried any movement will crease the paint. He wipes his hands on his jeans before picking another jar. "This is actual makeup. No more of that weird paint stuff." You sigh in relief and he ruffles your hair. "Porrim said this stuff is supposed to bring out the shadows on your face and make you look more masculine. I figured it would make you feel more confident" You squeeze your eyes shut to try and keep from crying, so overwhelmed by how much your brother cared about you. "Hey, shh, none of that now. C'mon, I need to you relax. There you go." He coaxes you into relaxing while dipping his finger in the jar, hesitating a moment before beginning to trace your jawline.

It's nothing like the first thing he put on, light and at a much more bearable temperature. He takes his time, smoothing it down and stepping back every so often to check if it was even. It makes you embarrassed, seeing how much effort he's putting into you. After a few minutes he makes a satisfied noise and reaches for the jar. "And that's it! Oh, I have one more thing for you, actually. Stand up and close your eyes, would you?" Again, you do as he says, letting him pull you forward a few steps. He pulls away from you and you hear the sound of the jars being set on the table and shuffling of fabric before you feel him next to you again. Something heavy settles on your shoulders, and Rufioh begins trying to shift your arms to try and slip into (what you assume to be) sleeves. "Help a brother out, would you?"

You help him bend your arm into the first sleeve, and then the second. He tugs at the collar to try and get it to rest better on your slim frame, but it does very little. Whatever you're now wearing, it's far too big for you. "Okay, you can open your eyes." You do, looking first at your brother who looks so much like the cat who caught the canary you feel a little nervous, and then down at your arms. Shocked you look back up at him, grinning. "Your letterman jacket?"

"My JV one, yeah. I've actually grown out of it, and I figured you'd like to wear. I mean, you don't have to, if you..."

"I love it," you interrupt, and he ruffles your hair fondly. "Thank you."

"Anything for my favorite brother." He jokes. "Well, we've got enough time to warm up the car before we go. I'll do that, and you can get your stuff. Meet me there in five, yeah?" Nodding, you watch as he leaves, humming the opening to one of the animes he had been watching lately. As soon as he's gone you wrap your arms around your chest, sighing. You're so happy you could burst. You've always envied your brother, because just having a letterman jacket meant you were a part of something, and that was more than you had ever been able to say. And now you had one. Granted, you hadn't earned it (yet. Hadn't earned it yet.) but it was enough of a confidence booster that you felt like you could do anything. Crouching down you reach for the travel-sized sketchbook you kept underneath your bed, nearly hitting your head on your way up. You laugh a little at that, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly before grabbing your pencil bag and heading out towards the car. No matter what happened tonight, you were going to have fun.

"Feferi I can't-how did you even find that?" The other girl only giggles, pressing the clothes into your hands.

"Please, just try it on? For me?" You sigh, trying your best to avoid her pouting lips and puppy eyes. Wordlessly you take them from her and set them beside you, unbuttoning your top. She grins and heads towards your dresser, going through your makeup. "The makeup remover is in the second drawer on the right; the paint in the drawer above it."

"I know. I'm just looking."

"You've seen it all before." Feferi turns to retort only to squeal and whip back around, presumably embarrassed. "They're just boobs, Feferi. Geez, and you're attracted to girls? How are you going to survive." She mumbles something into one of the drawers she's "searching", and you roll your eyes. "Did you pick out a new bra, too, or is this one fine?"

"New one is already in there," she chirps, and you shake your head before searching for the bra she picked up. You whistle your approval at her choice and she wriggles happily from her seat at your vanity. It's one of your nicer bras (a gift from her, actually, because she needed some and insisted on getting some for you, too), black lace over burgundy fabric. To your amusement she had tucked the matching panties into one of the cups. "Thanks, dearest," you call at her, and she giggles. You undo the clasps of your bra and slip the new one on, struggling a moment to do the clasps. Afterwards you roll your shoulders, unsure of how much you liked the way they were situated on your shoulders. "Want some help?" She offered, swiveling around to face you.

"Can you loosen the straps?" Feferi nods and saunters over, swinging her hips in an over exaggerated way just to make you laugh. She neatly tucks herself behind you and adjusts the straps until you sigh in relief; she rubs your shoulders before leaning against you. "Araydia," she giggles, drawing out as many syllables as possible, "you're going to break hearts tonight."

"I don't want to break hearts," you say seriously, "I want to keep them."

"You want to be in love," she makes fake kissing noises right next to your ear, and you blindly try and grab at her. Feferi squeals and squirms back, and you roll over to try and pin her. She's laughing, the breathless kind that makes you wonder how Nepeta hasn't confessed to her yet; the kind of laugh that made you wonder if you were in love with her, too, when you were small. When you manage to blow a raspberry into the sensitive skin of her stomach she squeals, reaching up to tug lightly at your hair as she pleads with you to let go of her. You press another sloppy kiss to her stomach for good measure before pulling away enough to look at her. She's flushed, eyes wide, and you love her so much in that moment that it makes you heart do backflips. "I love you," you whisper, and she tightens her grip on your hair.

"I know," she murmurs back, arching up to press her forehead to yours. "I love you, too."

"Even like this?" You aren't sure what you're referring too, exactly. But she seems to understand, releasing her hold on your hair in favor of wrapping her arms around your neck.

"Especially like this."

"It's different," you aren't sure why you feel the need to explain every feeling in your head, but you do, because you trust her. It's Feferi who's been by your side since the beginning, who held your hand when you were five and mocked for the way your veins stood out against your fair skin; Feferi, who sobbed for days when you told her you were moving and called every single day without fail until you moved back; Feferi, who walked proudly with you throughout the halls because she didn't care how you dressed or looked so long as you were kind; Feferi who tore apart anyone who dared to bully you within her vicinity with cold words and threats that made their blood run cold; Feferi, who did your makeup and picked out outfits for you because it was fun; Feferi, who was currently burying her face into your neck and saying that she loved you no matter what. "It's not the same," you choke out, and when she hums it reverberates through your entire being. "

"What's not the same? Love is love, Araydia. No matter what form it comes in, it's still important." You don't know what to say to that, so you pull her closer and try to relax. "I love you, and I love Nepeta, and I love you both differently, but just as much. And someday you'll find someone you love, and that doesn't mean you'll stop loving me."

"You really think I'll find someone?" Your voice breaks halfway through, and she shushes you soothingly.

"I do," she insists, petting your hair gently. "I do."

"Sorry," you sniffle, and she sighs. "I didn't mean to get so serious, and start crying, and..."

"It's fine," she takes your face between her hands and squishes your cheeks together, making you giggle weakly. "It's been a while since we've just talked and let things out. Now, I'm going to get you a makeup wipe, and maybe a few tissues, and you're going to get dressed." She pats your cheek before beginning to untangle herself from you, which you do your best to assist. Eventually your limbs are separated with minimum damage, and Feferi is grabbing things from your vanity to bring back to you while you change into the panties she gave you, slipping them under your skirt before slipping that off, too. You're just slipping into the romper she had given you when she turns back around. "Oh Araydia," she squeals, bouncing over to you. "You're gonna look so cute!" She settled next to you on the bed as you tug the romper on, wincing when you see how much of your leg is exposed. There's a lot of your arm bared, too, and the romper is just tight enough that you feel uncomfortable. But Feferi is looking at you like you're a goddess who's graced the earth with her presence, so you force you insecurities to the back of your mind and smile up at her. "I'm all yours," you whisper, and Feferi nods. She offers you the pack of makeup wipes and you take one, trying to resist the urge to just scrub at your face. When you think you're at least somewhat decent you hand the wipe back to her, which she takes and throws over with a flourish that makes you giggle. "I'll pick it up," she promises as she grabs a clean wipe. "Eyes closed, please."

The car ride takes away some of your nerves. It's hard to feel anything but happy with Rufioh poorly imitating artist after artist on the radio. He glances at you occasionally, checking to make sure you weren't sinking back into your thoughts, and if he thought even for a second you were he turned the radio to the most obnoxious station possible and screamed the lyrics, making you jump and laugh and roll your eyes at him. When you're not looking at him you're looking at your sketchbook, drawing slightly shaky doodles all across the page. They're little things, like frogs and Bulbasaurs, drawn mostly to keep your hands busy and less for the aesthetic. You flip to an older picture and begin doodling. It's (unsurprisingly) a picture of Aradia done in a more cutesy style. Rufioh had shown you pictures of gothic lolitas and had rather excitedly said, "It's kinda like your doll, right?" You had been inspired instantly. It's a simple picture, just Aradia holding an umbrella with a moody expression. Truthfully it's one of your favorites. You begin sketching little ghosts, trying your best to keep with the same style. It's a little difficult, especially since it's been ages since you've drawn this way, so you draw light and make a mental reminder to check up and fine tune them when you're finally reached your destination.

When you finally look out the window you see your brother pulling into a long, curving drive that leads to the biggest house you've seen. Ever. It's the kind of house they show in movies about whiny rich kids or in documentaries about men whose base salaries were more than you would ever be worth in your entire life. You must have looked overwhelmed because Rufioh hums, turning the radio down a few notches before speaking. "I reacted the same way when I saw it for the first time. Crazy, huh?" You nod, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. It's just big, it's huge, and that means that there's a chance a lot of people are going to go there. Before you can panic, Rufioh begins speaking again. "I know that look. There's going to be, like, twelve people, max. And they're all going to be on the first floor. If you get overwhelmed, there are plenty of empty rooms you can camp out in. And you can always come get me if you need to. I won't be mad, Tavros, look at me." You do, nervously studying the array of emotions on his face. "I won't be mad, okay? Promise. If it gets too overwhelming we can go home. My offer on takeout still stands, too." That makes you laugh, although it's a bit weak, and Rufioh smiles fondly at you as he pulls out onto the grass next to a rather sleek looking truck.

Your brother did have a point on there being very few people here. Besides your car and the truck next to you there were only two other vehicles parked on the lawn. Rufioh gets out the car and waits for you to clamber out before heading towards the house. He slings an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to him as you both squeeze onto the front doorstep. You hold your sketchbook close to your chest, nails digging so deeply into the leather that you know you're going to leave more crescent-moon shaped indents in it. Rufioh knocks on the door, and you wince when you hear shouting come from behind you. He looks at you in concern, brows furrowing, but it melts into a warm expression when the door swings open. "Good to see you, doll." You look up to see who Rufioh's speaking too, and manage to smile when you recognize her.

"Good to see you too, darling," she purrs, reaching forward to wrap her arms around him. "Meenah is in the living room, if you want to go find her." You try not to flinch when her attention shifts to you, instead focusing on the jade paint winding around her fair arms. "Tavros, isn't it? Kanaya is home sick; she'll be sorry she missed you." You feel warmth spread across your face and she laughs, but it isn't mean. "Are you two just going to stand out there, or are you going to come in?" Rufioh laughs, and nudges you in forward. You stumble inside, and as you right yourself you miss the fond expressions that cross both your brother and Porrim's faces. The pair of you toe off your shoes, and you flinch as someone enters the entryway, loudly swearing. "Meenah," Porrim sighs, and the girl turns her attention to the three of you.

"Hey, Rufioh," the girl greets, and your brother grins.

"'Hey' yourself, doll," he replies, and she saunters up to him. You glance nervously at Porrim, who seems relatively annoyed, before returning your gaze to Meenah. She's slung her arms over your brother's shoulders and is whispering something to him that makes his face go red. Compared to Feferi, she's all skin and bones, and the jut of her hips is emphasized by the stripes of fuchsia that are messily placed there. Her arms, too, are covered in messy handprints in both fuchsia and a pretty shade of blue. There's a blue handprint on her face speckled with pink, and her glasses are askew on her face. "And who's the shrimp, Rufioh?"

You can't help but flinch, practically cowering under her gaze, and out of the corner of your eye you notice Porrim take a protective step forward. "Can't you tell, doll? This is Tavros, and he is a hundred and ten percent pure Nitram." Rufioh grins at you, but you notice he seems a bit uncomfortable. Meenah makes a little "huh" before saying, "Well, whatever. Fuck if I care. Princess is upstairs if he wants to see her." She says something to Rufioh, but you don't catch it over how loud your own heart is in your own ears. You're brought back to reality by a hand on your shoulder and someone (your fear-wracked brain thinks it's Porrim's) whispering, "Shh, darling, it's alright Come back to us now."

"Sorry, Tavros, I know she's intense," Rufioh's hands join Porrim's, gently rubbing at your shoulders. "You okay? Need to sit down?"

"'m fine," you whisper, voice to high. "'m okay." Porrim coos over you, nails making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when she traces them over your neck. It's nice, and your shoulders sag in relief. She whispers something to Rufioh, practically attaching her lips to his ear so you can't hear (you aren't bothered, you know it's about you and if the way her brows are furrowed she's worried about you) before giving your shoulder a quick squeeze and heading deeper into the house. "Sorry," you breath, fiddling with your sketchbook. "She's scary." Rufioh chuckles, letting out a breathy, "I know, bud. Porrim is nice, though?" You nod, and he reaches up to run his fingers through your hair.

"I wanna stay." You know he's going to ask, he always asks if you even seem like you're overwhelmed, and he sighs.

"God, you really are a Nitram. Stubborn as a bull and twice as strong." You want to protest, you really do. You aren't strong. He took you to workout with him, once, just the two of you, and you could barely bench the bar, let alone the bar with weights. Hell, your brother could probably bench you and not even break a sweat. The argument dies on your lips, however, because Porrim returns, glass in hand and still looking just as concerned as before. She looks pretty, even with concern making guilt swirl angrily in your chest, and her lips curl into a smile when she catches your gaze. Her eyes are pretty, you note, a not-quite green, not-quite black color that goes nicely with her eyes painted jade and lips drawn in black. The glint of her piercings, too, make her look powerful, almost intimidating, but you aren't scared of her. How can you be, when she dotes on you just as your brother does, patient and accommodating of your needs just like her sister when you call her because you're too overwhelmed and too scared to call Rufioh. They're wonderful, all of them, and you whisper that along with your thanks when she presses the water into your hands.

"Oh darling," she coos, reaching up to straighten the collar of your jacket. "It's not a problem. Would you like to come in?" She says the last bit after you've swallowed, and you're actually a bit impressed when you don't choke on air. You nod, shyly looking up at her, and when she smiles it makes all the nerves settle in your stomach. "The people in there are loud, but they won't bother you." She informs you, and you find yourself thanking every lucky star that she was here. Rufioh seems more at ease with how you're interacting with her, rolling his shoulders back and even checking his phone. It's a little thing, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but your brother never does anything that would distract him from you if he knew you were uncomfortable or in a place without someone you trusted. Porrim keeps a hand on your shoulder as she leads the way further into the house, even when she has to bend her arm awkwardly when you walk through the narrow hall that opens up into a kitchen.

It was loud, almost unbearably so (you wonder how you didn't hear it, even if the door before the kitchen was closed), the music going through your entire body in a way that makes you shake. You would have been embarrassed if you couldn't feel it reverberating through her, too. Porrim's expressions sours, molding into something almost angry when a boy sitting on the counter whistles at her. Another boy turns to him and begins to say something that you can't even begin to comprehend over the noise and with how fast his mouth is moving. Porrim smirks, however, and her expression grows fond. "The boy on the counter is Cronus," she presses her lips to your ear so she can be heard, "and the boy lecturing him is Kankri. They're seniors, too, and so helplessly in love it's almost pitiful." You nod, not sure what to do with the information, but grateful for it nonetheless.

"Horuss is here," Rufioh leans down to say to you, "I'm going to go open the door for him. Are you okay here with Porrim?" You reach up for him, awkwardly maneuvering him into a position where he can hear you.

"I'll be okay," you end up having to repeat yourself, anyway, practically shouting the words in his ear. He doesn't seem to bothered, patting you on the head before returning the way you came. Porrim reaches down and takes your hand in hers, tugging it once gently to get you to follow her. She walks through the house like she's been in it a million times, slipping past several girls who stare at the pair of you like they can't believe their eyes. Once you've gone through several halls and doors she finally stops, turning to you. It's quieter here, the music seeming to be at an almost normal volume, and she doesn't have to raise her voice when she speaks to you. "I assumed you would be more comfortable in here. Your brother usually camps out here if things get too wild." You nod, pointedly choosing to ignore the "too wild" part of her statement. "Nothing will bite, darling. You can go ahead and make yourself comfortable."

"Are you staying?" You ask, feeling a bit selfish, but Porrim doesn't seem to mind.

"Of course, darling. Meenah won't kill anyone until the beer has arrived. Poor thing can barely hold her liquor." When she sees how nervous she looks she squeezes your hand, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. "Rufioh doesn't drink, and even if he did, he wouldn't dare do it with such precious cargo." You flush, and she leads you towards the couch. "Would you like another glass of water?" Nodding, she takes the glass from your hand and tells you she'll "be back in a moment". You curl up in the couch, glancing around (even though the room was empty save for you) before picking up your phone and opening Pesterchum.

adiosToreador began pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA]

AT: uHHH, HEY KANAYA,

AT: pORRIM SAID YOU WERE SICK,

AT: i'M UHHH, SORRY ABOUT THAT, i HOPE THAT YOU FEEL BETTER SOON

GA: I Appreciate The Sentiment Tavros I Too Hope I Am Well Again In A Reasonable Amount Of Time

GA: If You Do Not Mind My Asking How Did You Contact Porrim

GA: I Was Under The Assumption That You Did Not Have Her Handle

AT: uH, i WENT TO A PARTY WITH Rufioh,

AT: sHE MET US AT THE DOOR, sHE'S NICE,

AT: sHE HELPED CALM ME DOWN AND TOOK ME TO A QUIETER PART OF THE HOUSE,

GA: I See

GA: I Am Quite Proud Of You Tavros Going To One Of Meenahs Parties Is No Small Feat

GA: I Am Afraid I Cannot Stay And Chat Much Longer Enjoy Your Evening Tavros

grimAuxiliatrix [GA] ceased pestering adiosToreador

AT: uH, BYE KANAYA, i HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER SOON,

adiosToreador ceased pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA]

Feferi had tucked herself upstairs the moment the first guest arrived, forcing you to sit in a pile of blankets as she rummaged through her closet. The poor thing looked stressed, and you wanted to tell her that, in the end, if wouldn't matter what she wore. Most of the people would be too shit-faced to remember what she wore. But you knew, too, that she wasn't dressing for them; she was trying to dress for girl who had just sent a message saying she would be over in twenty minutes. "Fef," you call, and she whips around to face you. "It's my turn to return the favor. Start doing your makeup and I'll pick something for you to wear." She looks conflicted, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

"I'm just nervous, Araydia," she whimpers, and you untangle yourself from the blankets so you can join her at the closet.

"You really shouldn't be; it's a party where you're supposed to show skin, show off, and anyone would die seeing a body like yours. She'll eat you up no matter what you wear." You push your through her clothes to the skirt you know she keeps tucked in the back, grinning. "If she doesn't drool at all when she sees you in this, then she has no taste. At all." Pressing the clothes into her hands makes her sputter, face flushing prettily. "Go on, go. Get dressed. I'll find the paint." She scampers off to do as you said, and you shake your head before making your way to her cluttered vanity. For all her claims that it was "organized" you knew she wouldn't be able to find her foundation if she hadn't wrapped a bright pink scrunchie around it and set it towards the front. It takes most of your willpower to not sit down and tidy it now, but you know it will be back to a disaster in a day, maybe even a few hours. That was her can of worms to deal with, not yours, and you're just grateful she keeps her body paint in about the same place each time. At the sound of the door opening you turn, smiling widely at Feferi.

She looked like a goddess (truthfully she always did, in your opinion), but she seems nervous, clasping awkwardly at the fabric of her skirts. It can barely be called a skirt-it's simply layers of practically see-through blue and green fabrics attached to a white bodysuit that bares her arms and legs while the neckline sits at her throat. "Beautiful," you coos, and she flushes.

"Can you zip up the back?"

"Yeah, c'mere. I'll fix you up." She giggles weakly, and you set the paint on her vanity. "Are you going to paint yourself, or do you want me to do it?"

"I'll do it," she says as she turns, "at least, the parts I can reach." You hum in response, easily pulling up her zipper. Before she can turn around you wrap your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder. After a moment she leans back, placing her hands on top of yours. "Is something wrong? You've been awfully cuddly today."

"Nothing wrong, just thinking."

"'bout what?"

"Well, if you must know," you draw out the 'must' so long you almost run out of breath, "I'm thinking about your funeral."

"My funeral?"

"Well, when Nepeta confesses to you, you're going to be so happy that you die." You say it like you're stating the weather, something boring and mundane and so, so obvious. The noise she makes has you in stiches, and she manages to twist around and bury her face into your shoulder, whining. You run your fingers through her hair, a silent apology for flustering her, and when she pulls away she sniffles and glares at you. She isn't mad at you-when Feferi is mad, her cheeks puff up like a blowfish and she becomes a hurricane of harsh phrases and barbing remarks. This is Feferi when she's flustered, overwhelmed by feelings and desperate to find somewhere to collect herself. She clings to you, and you let her, running your fingers over the sensitive spots behind the back of her ears. "Love you," she murmurs into your shoulder, words coming out muffled.

"Love you too, Feferi. Now come on, let's get you painted, yeah?"

It takes you a good ten minutes to apply the paint, and another five to pull her hair into an up-do so you can apply it to her shoulders without worry of it getting in her hair. "We're the cutest," she states, and you roll your eyes.

"You're the cutest," you insist, and she sticks out her tongue at you in retaliation. She settles carefully on the edge of the bed, uncomfortably positioned so her legs don't touch the covers. When she checks her phone she squeals, and you make the assumption that: A, Nepeta had sent her a message of her arrival, or B, Nepeta had sent a picture of some sort to Feferi. It very well could be both. "We might need those funeral plans," Feferi manages, voice too high and breathy. You settle beside her, looking at her phone. And you immediately melt, making a cooing noise that would have embarrassed you under any other circumstance.

arsenicCatnip [AC] began pestering cuttlefishCuller [CC]

arsenicCatnip [AC] has sent the file -

AC: :33 ameow me to purrsent the most adorapawl makeup look evfurr

Feferi had yet to reply, still staring wide-eyed at the image the other girl had sent. Nepeta had (quite fittingly) done her makeup to resemble a cat, whiskers and nose painted in a flattering shade of olive green. She's grinning widely, free hand brought up near her cheek in what you assume is a parody of a cat's paw. Her hair is mussed up, and from what you can see she's only in a black sports bra, her signature olive jacket draped over her shoulders. Paw prints had been drawn along her collar bones, and in the space between was a slightly lopsided heart. You could only imagine what she had done on the rest of her body. Feferi must be picturing it, too, because her face goes completely red and she lets out a noise that sounds somewhere between a low groan and like she's choking on air. "You've got it bad," you whisper, and she only nods, quickly typing out a response. With a shake of your head you leave her to her conversation, heading to your vanity. "I'm going to organize this while you fawn over her," you state, and she gives a strangled noise in response. "English, please, Feferi."

"Oh my cod Araydia she's five minutes away please save me."

"You mean you're five minutes away from Nepeta confessing to you," you reply, and when she lets out another garbled noise you sigh. "Feferi, it's going to be okay, I promise."

"You can't break promises, Araydia," she whimpers, and you turn so she can see you.

"There is no way in hell I am going to break this promise, Fef. You are going to be okay, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that."

"I trust you," Feferi says slowly, and you grin.

"I'm glad."

A few minutes after messaging Kanaya Porrim had returned, pressing a glass in your hand and settling on the couch beside you with a sigh. You glance at her, and when you decide that her attention isn't going to be on you you open your sketchbook and flip to a new page. It takes you a moment to decide what to draw, finally settling on drawing Aradia. The sketch is rough, full of messily curving lines that overlap so much it's a wonder that you can make out anything at all. You're just staring to draw her features when the door opens, and both you and Porrim turn to see who it is. Rufioh enters the room, Horuss on his arm, and you relax. They settle in the couch across from you, Horuss half in Rufioh's lap with your brother's arm slung around his shoulders. He smiles at you, the same gentle, fond smile he gives your brother when his attention is elsewhere. It makes you sink back into the couch, bringing your knees up so you can tuck them against your chest. "Your doll's here," Rufioh says lazily, and your head snaps up to look at him. "She's running around with Meenah's sister and the Leijon doll," when Horuss glances up at him he adds, "the younger one."

"Nepeta." Horuss offers, and Rufioh hums. "She's quite a sweet girl."

"Not as sweet as you, babe," your brother leans down to kiss his boyfriend and you pointedly look away. Porrim makes a gagging noise, startling both of them, and you raise a hand to keep the laugh from escaping your throat. Rufioh narrows his eyes at you, but it's less annoyed and more concerned. You let your hand fall, grinning at him to try and assuage his worries, but it comes out crooked and strained. "You okay?" He mouths, and you nod.

"I'm fine," you mouth back, and he raises an eyebrow. "Really!" He shakes his head, and his boyfriend peers up at him curiously.

"Stubborn as a bull," he murmurs, and Horuss hums in agreement. Porrim laughs, rising to her feet. She brushes her fingers through your hair as she passes, purring, "Sorry love, but I have to take off. Meenah and Cronus are at each other's throats; poor Kankri is beside himself."

"Good luck," Rufioh chimes, and you nod in agreement. You watch as she leaves, keeping your eyes politely trained on the back of her neck. Glancing at your brother for a sign that you could return back to drawing, only doing so when he gives a lazy grin and turns his attention back to Horuss. You make a face when your hear their lips lock, and lament the fact that your headphones are sitting on your bedside table. It's easy to drown them out, and you continue your sketch of Aradia.

The party goes on, getting louder the longer time goes on. Your sketch becomes more detailed, more precise, and a glance at your brother shows that he's half-asleep, whispering something to his boyfriend. They're holding hands, and it's so grossly domestic you can't help but roll your eyes. "Jealous, little bull?" Rufioh teases, and you laugh quietly so as not to disturb Horuss.

"Maybe a little," you offer, and your brother hums.

"You really should show her, Tav. Who knows, maybe it'll be the start of your relationship?"

"I don't know," you begin, but apparently the universe has other plans, because the door opens and, to your poor, unprepared heart, Aradia Megido walks in, arm in arm with Feferi and another girl.

God, you are so fucked.