Not to Worry
“Not to worry, dear.”
She woke up without a sound in the dead of night, and simply laid there for a long moment.
The bed was luxurious - of that, there was no doubt. There were drapes on either side, blocking out the world, and the sheets were silk. As in, literal silk. They were smooth and flowing as water beneath her, caving deeply and ensconcing her in warmth. The window directly next to the bed was spilling midnight, and the glowing white liquid dripped past her drapes and onto her sleeping form. The colours were all dull, and somewhere in the easy spectrum of icy blue.
She laid there and tried to remember what her dream had been about.
The memory slipped in and out of her grasp, elusive as a shadow, and she vainly tried to chase it through the groggy fog of sleepiness. Some of the details were coming to her, now, and she was disappointed.
It wasn’t a good one. It very rarely was.
She slowly and gingerly sat up, one had coming up to rub at her eyes. It wasn’t that she needed to sit up gingerly, necessarily, but her muscles were weak-
(“She must be careful, especially in school. We suggest you do not let her play with other children - she could fracture something quite easily, and even if she didn’t, it’s quite likely she could damage a muscle or dislocate a joint.”
She barely listened to the doctor, trying to focus on not crying as her life crumbled around her.)
-and Doctor Treyton had suggested she be careful anyway. And besides, it had become a part of her lifestyle at this point - sitting down, laying down, getting up. All of these things she had learned to do slowly and carefully. Not so much because she might injure herself, but because she might rush through them otherwise and do something stupid. Fall, for example.
And falling on plaster or tile did mean injuring herself. Even falling on carpet was risky business, especially if it was a particularly forceful fall.
She got up and went to the bathroom. Her steps were fairly slow. She had also learned to walk slowly in early morning, lest her groggy state - she had dreams often, so she woke up in a particularly groggy mood most of the time - caused her to fall.
She hadn’t walked slowly, at first. It was hard to teach yourself to automatically do something, especially so early in the morning.
Then she had tripped while going into the bathroom and gotten a, luckily fairly thin, fracture on both her hip and her skull.
She had learned quickly after that.
She flicked on the light and had to hold a hand to block it, eyes flaring and pupils dilating. She spent a long moment with closed eyes, simply growing accustomed to what little was able to shine through her eyelids, before trying to open them again.
She ended up having to go a solid forty seconds before she could keep her eyes open and it was safe to move again.
She leaned over the sink and stared into the eyes of her reflection.
Her icy blue sclera and thick black pupils stared back.
She sneered.
She was told that it was actually quite odd, that she had gotten that shade of blue in her eyes. She apparently didn’t have a very dangerous form of Osteogenesis Imperfecta, and she had managed to go without the slightly triangular face and barrel-shaped ribs. But for some reason, her eyes still came with that blue tint that was usually restricted to worse forms of OI, and she was still shorter then normal. Symptoms that were quite rare to find in type 1 and 4 - she apparently had something just between these two in severity.
She hated the fact that she knew the term Osteogenesis Imperfecta. That it rolled off her tongue so easily.
She had been forced to learn it.
Her reflection sneered back at her.
She brushed her teeth with the usual soft-bristled tooth brush. Once upon a time, she had preferred firmer bristles - but then her parents had realized that they had left that brush in the bathroom and taken it away, telling her firmly that-
(“Your teeth are brittle, Mera, they could fall out.”)
She doubted that. Brushing with hard bristles probably wouldn’t make her teeth fall out, though it might help slightly. They were probably just being over-protective.
Still, she had learned to brush slow and steady. So that was what she did.
She was less careful in the shower. She was starting to wake up properly, and she had less of a chance of cracking her head from lack of attention when there was hot water blasting her. She liked to switch up which direction she turned the knob, and made sure to never pay attention when she did - so it was usually a surprise whenever she stepped in if the water was boiling hot or ice cold. It was certainly a way to make sure she always paid attention, and it kept her from growing too complacent.
When she finished, she slipped on some clothes - finally moving quickly and smoothly, now that she was entirely awake - and walked out the door.
She felt only the tiniest bit of bittersweet pride when she thought that nobody would’ve been able to tell she was anything less than normal, as she walked out with quick and purposeful steps.
The night was cold.
She quite liked the cold.
Her parents would probably kill her if they learned that she did this every morning, after so little sleep. She had cut out nearly half her sleep schedule to be able to do this every day without her parents being up, and she never once regretted it.
The tiny, homely 24-hour coffee shop spilled orange lights out onto the cold street as she stepped in and got herself a table.
“Not to worry, dear.”
Mera didn’t believe her.
She couldn’t say the words - they slipped off her tongue wrong and fumbled out of her mouth, mangled and broken. People laughed when that happened. Just as the kids would laugh when she fell off the slide and hit the ground.
She couldn’t say the name of what was wrong with her, but she knew there was something.
She knew that she couldn’t play with the other kids. That the snow outside was to be seen, not touched. That the ice was too slippery, and she might fall. And she couldn’t fall.
She didn’t quite know why, but she didn’t have to.
She wasn’t right. She wasn’t safe.
And Mom was smiling brightly, and telling her the same thing over and over, as she clung desperately to the woman’s dress and looked up with pleading eyes. Eyes that Mom probably thought wanted her meaningless pleasantries and platitudes.
She didn’t want to be told that there was nothing to worry about.
But that was what Mom kept saying, over and over and over.
“Not to worry, dear.” With that brittle smile that Mera could tell was just wrong in some way. “It’s all okay.”
That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
All she wanted to hear was that she could go out and touch snow for the first time. She had never seen snow, and she liked the pictures of it. Liked how it glittered on the ground.
It didn’t matter if there was something to worry about, as long as she could go out and play in the snow. Play with this thing she had never seen before.
But she couldn’t play with the other kids. Couldn’t be out in the cold anymore, lest she slip.
She stared out the window, hand coming up and barely touching the ice-cold glass.
Her hand curled into a fist, and a long nail left a single, thin scratch on the shining glass.
She felt tears prickle behind her eyes.
...She decided, then and there, that if her body was so weak - then her mind couldn’t be.
She was determined not to cry.
...She managed to make it through the night without a single brackish tear leaving her.
“I will never. Cry. Again.” She whispered, staring out at the children playing happily in the snow.
Her voice rang in the empty room with a strength she had never before possessed.
“Molly!”
“Trixie.” She answered with a tired smile, before letting out a small ‘oof’ when a blur of hair and cloth hit her full speed and wrapped her in a fierce hug. She didn’t even have time to return it before the girl was pulling back with a wide, crack-toothed smile.
Molly couldn’t help but smile widely back.
The pink-haired girl wolf-whistled, looking her up and down. Molly didn’t even blush anymore when the girl began her usual routine.
“Wow, you’ve gotten fit, huh?” Trixie elbowed her before hopping away to the kitchen. “Might have to re-consider going out with you.”
Molly rolled her eyes tiredly, though there was fondness in her smile as she sat down on the dark green couch and waited.
“No, Trix.”
“Friends with benefits?” The girl slid a plate of steaming eggs and a glass of milk in front of her, which she took with a resigned sigh.
She knew better then to try and convince the girl to take back the meal. Trixie never let her get away with missing dinner.
“No, Trix.” She grimaced when she glanced at the glass of milk. “What’ve I told you about ice?”
“It’ll help wake you up!” The girl chirped in response, scooching the milk forward slightly.
“I woke up eight hours ago, Trix.”
“Yeah, and then you went to work.” Trixie responded with a sharp eye. “I doubt that you’re actually awake. Besides, we’ve gotta go out tonight!”
She winced. In an instant, Trixie’s eyes were sharp upon her.
“...Right? Because we’ve had this planned for at least three days, so surely you wouldn’t have to do another pile of paperwork.”
She hunched in on herself and sent the girl an apologetic, shamed glance.
“...I’ve really got some important stuff to do, Trix…”
The girl sighed lowly.
“You’ve gotta get out there, Molly.” She hopped out of her seat and sat next to Molly, sliding close and ruffling her hair. She ducked away from the hand with only a small smile.
“I swear - it’s like you think working is all your life is ever gonna be!”
The girl leaned in with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, and whispered in a throaty tone-
“Don’t make me force you…”
Molly leaned away with a helpless giggle, and batted at the girl.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Trix.”
“Well, can you blame me?” The girl answered happily, leaning back and folding her hands on her stomach. “I swear, doll, you grow cuter and cuter every day.”
“We already tried the relationship thing, remember?” She answered, looking down at the girl reproachfully. “Didn’t work out? Left us on the rocks for weeks? Any of this ringing a bell?”
“Nope! As a matter of fact…”
The girl sat up and leaned her back against the couch with a predatory glint in her eyes.
“Why not give it a shot right now, eh?”
Molly couldn’t help but laugh at the girl.
“Come on, Trix - let me up.” She said with a grin, pushing the pink-haired girl weakly.
“But why should I, when I have you so helpless?”
The girl leaned down and burrowed into her neck, licking at her pulse point. Molly couldn’t help the tiny, helpless shudder that ran down her spine, though she was quick to repress the movement.
Trixie still must’ve noticed, though, because she growled into her throat with a triumphant grin.
“Come on, Trix.” She tried again, though her voice was gaining a slight note of hesitance.
And Trixie pounced on that note like a lion. She barely nipped at her sensitive skin in that tiny, adorable way she knew would drive Molly crazy.
And, indeed, Molly melted into the couch with a tiny ‘hmn’.
“Come on yourself, doll.” The girl whispered, a throaty note in her voice as she leaned back and grinned down at her.
And she knew that Molly liked when she played the dominant, the little minx.
“Bet you’ve had a long day…” She whispered suggestively into her ear, which caused another shiver to run down her spine. This time, she made no effort to repress the movement. “You’ve already cancelled our plans… might as well end the day with a bang anyway, right?”
She couldn’t help but snort at the pun, though it quickly became another repressed ‘hmn’ when Trixie nipped suggestively at her ear.
“Triiiiix, come on… don’t do this to me…” She whined helplessly. “I’ve had a rough night, don’t take advantage like this…”
“Well, if you’ve had a rough night…” The girl who clearly had the upper hand responded, “why not end it on a high note?”
“Because - hmn-”
She really began to lose her backbone as Trixie nipped at her neck again.
“Because we’ve already given the relationship thing a try, and it didn’t work out?” She offered, though her voice was filled with unsureness.
She should’ve expected this, really, should’ve prepared herself, she knew Trixie was far better then her with reading people and luring them into bed, and she had made it incredibly clear since… well, ever, that she found Molly cute as hell.
And they had already been in bed together, too, which simply made it all the easier for the girl. She should’ve seen this coming a mile away, Trixie pulled this routine nearly every day.
But she had never thought it could actually lead anywhere, much less all the way to the bedroom.
“Yeah, we tried the relationship thing, but it didn’t work out because, A:”
The girl licked the crest of her ear to emphasize the word. Her hands helplessly reached up and tangled into the pink-dyed, tied back hair, and a tiny noise managed to escape her throat.
“We were barely sixteen at the time, and B:”
She went for the neck this time. Molly wriggled in her grasp like prey.
“Neither of us are very good with commitment.”
“No, you aren’t very good with commitment.” She corrected softly.
“Well, either way, maybe if we tried something more… open…”
The tomboy trailed off suggestively.
“Well…”
I really, really shouldn’t.
But she had had such a long day…
“...Maybe… just this once…”
Trixie leaned back and grinned triumphantly, before rewarding her by stripping off her top. Molly had forgotten the sensation of her breath catching in her throat, and the odd, bubbling heat in her gut as she couldn’t help but instantly fall helplessly in love with Trixie all over again.
It never did end up going to the bedroom after all.
When the morning came, Trixie apologized for pushing her in an instant. She had, apparently, been pregaming a bit in preparation for going out that night, and had never intended for the flirting to go as far as it did.
Molly had smiled helplessly as she forgave the girl with a quiet,
“That was the best sleep I’ve had all week.”
Trixie had grinned, eyes alight with pride.
“Love you, Mol.”
“Love you too, Trix.”