#overkink

Chapter 1

"Isabeau, why do you hate me?" Siffrin sinks into the old chair next to the Fighter at the Clocktower's dinner table, exhausted, defeated. They didn't feel like chatting with Loop or Dusk much and opted to head back early to stop Lupus from spreading their lies again, but, judging by the bottle Isabeau is currently prying open, they're still too late.

“What?” Isabeau winces, his eyes flash to their face for the briefest of moments. He grips his beer tightly enough that his knuckles go pale. "I—Siffrin. No, I don’t hate you."

They growl. "Don't lie to me." Again with the lying! Almost as bad as Lupus!

"I-I'm not!" He holds his hands up. "Why would I?"

"I don't KNOW!" they yell. "Is it my rot? Am I just so disgusting you can't even look at me anymore?"

"What?" Again, his eyes flick across them for a fraction of a second, but jump to the bottle he's threatening to crush. "No! Of course not, Siffrin—"

They hiss. "You stopped laughing at my jokes and ignore me and won't tell me anything and won't even call me Sif anymore and..."

"Sif..." he frowns with a pinched expression.

"Don't start again now!"

"Sif...frin... No, Sif. I—do you really think I hate you?"

"I know that!" they hiss.

"No, Sif, I really don't. I'm just trying—I want to—” He presses the heel of his palms to his eyes. “You're dying, Sif."

Their nails scratch against the table, small splinters poking at the quick. "Yeah? And what does that have to do with it!?"

He throws up his arms, nearly tossing the bottle across the room. "Everything!" A little spills on the table, but neither of them even spares it a glance.

"How?" they hiss.

"Sif, it's everything!" he snaps. "I don't want you to die! I don't want to lose you!"

"Then why are you acting like this?" they cry, throat tightening. "Like I'm already dead to you!?"

Isabeau flinches back as if he were punched in the gut. "Because..." He bows his head and sinks his face into his hands. "It hurts so much to see you like this."

"Huh?" They jolt their head back as a ripple of cold flashes through their chest. The back of the chair creaks in protest as they lean back.

Isabeau peeks up but quickly averts his gaze. "The Director's curse is killing you, Sif, and you're acting like it's not a big deal! You're just walking to your death with us tomorrow."

"But that's my CHOICE! I'm CHOOSING to go in there because if I don't, then the world will end and I'll die anyway!"

"You don't know that!” he snaps. “We can handle it on our own! If you stay here—"

"I'm not useless!" they snarl. "I can still help!"

"I'm not saying you're useless, Sif. I'm saying just... please, let me do this for you. I don't know what I'll do if you die."

"Why do you care so much?" They narrow their gaze.

"Because I love you!" Isabeau slams his hands on the table. He chokes and slaps them over his mouth, craning his neck upward and staring at a cobweb in the corner.

"You—" Everything stops. They...

What..? That…doesn't make sense.

"Sorry! Sorry!” he cringes. “I shouldn't have said that! Crab, I didn't mean to—I messed up."

"So you don't!?" Siffrin snarls and pulls at their hair. "You're just going to lie again!?"

"No! I do! I do... love you. So much, I just..." He pinches his eyes closed and gasps out a sob. "You're acting like this is not a big deal, and like you're not worth anything. I can't handle it. I-I can't stand seeing the light fade from your eye or the way your blood leaks through your bandages. I'm so happy whenever I get to spend time with you, but whenever I look at your curse, it always comes crashing down, and I just..." he lets out a long, whining sigh. "I can't—it hurts too much."

There's a violent, chill twisting deep within their chest. "I... but... I don't understand? What? You're ly—"

He looks back up, but not at them. His eyes are puffy. "I'm not lying, Sif. I promise I'm not! Why would I lie about this?"

"Because!" they grind their bare heels into the floor, grumbling. "You're always lying!"

"Huh!?" Genuine confusion paints his features. He's looking at them, finally, but the moment they return his gaze, his eyes flash to his beer.

Does he?

Did—did he lie a lot before the loops?

They don't...

They don't remember.

He doesn't remember!

They've already forgotten a lot, but...

"What do you mean I'm always lying?" There's a strain to his voice. "Do you mean just like... not telling why I've been... acting like this?"

"No! No it's—"

It's not this Isa's fault!

But he's going to do it again!

He already just did!

There's no way he'd love you. Not with your rot. Not with your failure to be anything.

No but you're not useless! You can still help!

"Argh!" They pull their hair harder until strands start to snap.

"Siffrin, stop, you're hurting yourself!"

There's pressure in their empty socket. It's going to burst.

Good, maybe when it does, he'll feel so bad he tells you the truth!

Ugh! Disgusting! Manipulative!

Isabeau reaches for their hands.

"Don't touch me!" They scramble back, nearly falling from their seat.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Isabeau leaps back. "Please let go of your hair."

They snarl and double over.

Isabeau whimpers. "I—I don't know what to do."

"Why are you saying this all to me if you can't even look at me? Why don't you just have your stupid drink and forget me already!" They yank a handful of hair from their scalp.

"Forget you?" He winces as Siffrin shakes the tuft from their fingers. "I could never forget you! I wasn’t trying to forget you, I just wanted the... pain to go away for a bit." He pushes the beer away. “See? It’s gone. I won't touch it.”

"Nnf." They rake their nails down the side of their head until their hands find their upper arms. They squeeze and dig and squeeze and let out a pitiful whimper.

"Siffri—Sif." Isabeau closes his eyes, takes a slow, deep breath, then opens them slowly, letting them fall on their face. They wince as their eyes meet. It burns, like it’s searing its way through him.

"Please,” he all but whispers. “I know I hurt you, just let me help. I want to help. I'm so sorry, I don't hate you, I don't want to forget you, I don't think you're useless or disgusting or a burden."

"Why?" they mumble almost too low to hear.

"Why what?"

"Why do you ugh... feel that way? I'm not special. I can't fight, I can't lead, the only things I can do anymore are—"

Be a target and loop.

"What?" Isabeau seems to deflate. "If none of that matters. I lo—I want to be around you because you're..." He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep, shuddering breath. Slowly, as if comforting an injured wild animal, he reaches for their hands, working his fingers between theirs and pulling them away from their arms. They don't fight him; they just stare, and he returns their gaze.

His hands are so warm, sweaty.

Gross.

Isabeau cups their hands between his, giving them gentle squeezes.

"Sif. I love being around you, I love spending time with you. You're kind and funny and—and fun to talk to and you always have something interesting to say and you're always trying your best with everything and you always give great advice and you're good with kids and and are small and cute and just—" His voice cracks and he bows, pressing his forehead to their joined hands. "Change, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

So... the drinking, the burning hugs, cleaning up their blood, trying to get them to stay behind, the fights...

They slump down further. Now they can't look at him; their mind is racing, images and words flash through it too fast to process. They stare wide-eyed at a stain on the table.

"I don't understand."

"What don't you understand?" His voice is so soft, it hurts.

"You—I—but I'm... I don't understand." They want to pull away; they want to scream, to rip their hands away and tear out their hair and claw at their rotting brain until something makes sense. They blink rapidly, fighting back hot tears. They fail. "It doesn't make sense. Why were you..."

"Because I'm a coward," he says flatly. "Been one all my life, and no matter how much I Change myself, I can't escape that. And just... trying to protect myself from the pain of losing you I ended up hurting you even more. I've only Changed for the worse on this journey." He chokes. "Sorry, Sorry I-I'm making this about me. Crab. I was just so selfish, but... you're still here, and I... I don't know."

"I am here," they breathe.

"You’re here," he whispers and squeezes their hands. "And, Change, I messed everything up, I stepped in it all." He sits back up, squeezing his eyes shut for a long time and just breathing. "Why do you think so little of yourself?" He meets their gaze again, wavering, but solid. "That you're so willing to throw yourself away? Was it me? Did I make you feel that way?"

"No!” they gasp and scrape their feet along the floor. “It wasn't you—it's just... I'm just one person, and the world is ending."

"I'm just one person, too," he murmurs. "What if it were me with your curse? Or any one of us? Would it not matter if we died too?"

They lurch forward. "Of course it would matter! It's not the same!"

"How?" He squeezes.

"Because!" they groan. "I'm... I... It just is!"

"It's not, Sif."

"It is! You're somebody. You have a life ahead of you. I don't have anything." They hug themself harder.

Isabeau jumps. "Sif what the crab? You have Lupus! You have us!"

They choke. "Lupus has other family that can actually take care of them properly." ...They don't. They don't they don't they don't they'll be alone when you die they still hate dusk they'll be alone you can't ask your party to take them in that's too much to ask but what else is there to do?

"They'd still be devastated! It doesn't matter how big their family is, they still love you! And I do too! And everyone else here!"

"...I..."

"Sif, please. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I made you feel so useless and forgotten. I was just... I couldn't handle everything crashing down every time I got to be happy around you; I couldn't handle seeing you wasting away and how okay you were with it."

"Ugh! Stop saying that! It wasn't you—" they grind their teeth. "Ugh... It. Didn't. Help. But... I've been a nobody for longer than you've been like this!"

"You—stop saying that, Sif—" he whines.

"And you're right, I shouldn't have acted so carefree when the world is ending!"

Isabeau squeezes their hands, shaking. "Change, I really messed you up, didn't I?"

"I was already messed up."

"Sif..." he groans, hands trembling around theirs. "What do I even do now? How do I fix this?" he mumbles, and Siffrin isn't sure who it's directed to.

"You can't fix me."

"Not you, just... everything about this."

"You—I—" They pull one hand free to rub their arm up and down, up and down until the friction starts to burn. His skin tinges with red. "I don't want to—"Die alone die alone die alone die alone you're going to die alone if you stay and they'll forget you forget you forget you forget you and you'll have never mattered to anyone.

Isabeau watches their hand the entire time. He holds their other hand tighter, sweat drips down his arms and face like rain, his breathing is heavy, and his whole body shakes. He looks like he saw a mangled corpse dropped at his feet.

They sure feel like one.

Isabeau swallows and breathes, breathes, breathes.

"Sif."

They mumble.

"It's okay to say no, but," he breathes in again. "Do you need a—a hug?"

Their breath catches, and they look up. Isabeau has relaxed his hands and is holding his free arm open just a bit.

They sniff and stare. They feel so numb, so dead, so disgusting, and useless, useless, useless, so... not numb, so... too much too much they can't understand don't understand.

They think about fire.

No. No don't think about fire.

But maybe Isabeau's fire is better than the everything and nothing they're feeling now.

He wont—he wouldn't—if they take too long, would he grab them again?

They meet his gaze again for a brief moment. He looks...

There are tear tracks down his cheeks.

His chest is heaving.

But... he doesn't look like he's going to strike.

They can...

They can just try it.

Isabeau lets go if they freeze, or gasp, or whatever they did, right?

He always did before, at least.

They can... make it quick.

Isabeau's arm falls a little more, his grip loosens, his expression seems to dim.

"Um... It's okay if you don—Ah!"

They lurch forward and wrap their arms around his torso. It's hot. It's hot. But it doesn't burn...

It's almost nice.

Isabeau's heart is thundering in his chest, beating against their eardrum; it's almost too loud.

He's... not touching them back.

Did they do the hug wrong again? Were they supposed to wait for him to grab them?

Their body tenses, and they start to back out, but Isabeau's strong arms come around them and press them against him.

Ah! It's so much! They're trapped! He's—no—it's fine. It's fine! Their arms aren't pinned, and he's not squeezing the life out of them.

It's gentle... warm...

Still A LOT!

Warm... hot... they don't know!

They dig their fingers into his back and bury their face into his shirt. A high keen escapes their throat.

Isabeau runs a hand up their back, and they go rigid.

"Sorry! Was that too much?"

Was it!?

They shake their head.

They're doing the hug right! He's not pushing them away.

They... don't want to let go.

They want it to be over.

They want him to envelop them and bury them against his heart so the soft thundering of his pulse is loud enough to drown out their disgusting thoughts.

They want to jump into the river and never come up for air.

Siffrin cries.

It's a low, pitiful whine, but he feels tears flow out of their eye and what decayed fibers are left from their dead one. His nose leaks, it's itchy, it's uncomfortable; they rub their face into Isabeau's shirt.

Disgusting.

But Isabeau doesn't push them away or tell them to stop. He feels something drip onto their head, soaking into their hair.

They look up; Isabeau is crying again, too? Oh no no, his nose and cheeks are dark, and his eyes leak.

"Isa?"

"I'm sorry, Sif."

"I'm sorry, Isa."

"Don't,” he winces. “You didn't do anything wrong."

Liar. "If I can't be sorry, you can't either."

"Sif? Yes! Yes I can! I was such a crabhead to you."

"Because I was such a blinding idiot! I...I never considered you were hurting too..." Because why would they? Why would they think the reason he won't look at them anymore is anything other than disgust at his rot? Why would they think the reason he stopped laughing at his jokes was anything other than him becoming an annoyance or a bore to him?

...You really had that little faith in him...

His grip tightens. "Sif, please, don't."

They whine.

"Sif, Siffrin, Siffirino, be kinder to yourself. You're... going through a lot."

"It's fine."

"It's not fine!"

They flinch.

Isabeau chokes. "Gah! Ugh, I'm... I don't know what to do."

"What?"

"I'm just—is there nothing I can do to convince you to st—wait here and let us save you?"

"No."

"Why do you want to die so badly?"

Because they won't be alone then. They tighten their squeeze. "Helping you all kill the Director is the most useful thing I'll ever do."

Isabeau chokes and goes silent.

"Is—is there nothing I can do to convince you that's not true, either? That you've always been helpful, and-and also your usefulness isn't what's important to me?"

"...No." they sniff.

"Can I try?"

Please.

"I..." their throat tightens; another whining keen escapes it. He coughs and pulls back from the suffocating heat to wipe his face.

...Gross. His arm is covered in a trail of snot and tears.

They grimace and groan.

"Sorry..." they mumble.

"It's fine,” he responds with an empty chuckle. “You look like you needed that. Do you, ah, want to go upstairs and get cleaned up?" They both flinch as something crashes in the next room, followed by a loud 'I'M OKAY'. "We can talk more up there."

"I guess." Two sets of tiny, but thundering footsteps echo through the whole Clocktower. "Yeah, let's go."

Isabeau snorts softly. He stands and stretches while he waits for Siffrin to rise. They push themself up and—

Oh stars.

They put some weight down. Yep... their butt's completely numb—oh wait, no here come the needles...

They stomp heavily on the floor and stretch up, but stumble. Isabeau's there to catch them, but just barely; he holds his arm out in front of them to grab onto.

"Sif?! Are you okay? It's not the curse, is it?" He holds them at a distance, free hand hovering away from them.

"What? Nono my uh... legs just fell asleep," they cringe.

"Oh, hahah." He starts to pull away, but Siffrin's hand snaps out and grabs Isabeau's.

"Sif!?" he sputters.

"...Ah." Oh no that's weird that's weird what are you doing?

But they can't let go.

"Do you need help up the stairs?"

"No, I'm fine." They still can't let go.

Disgusting.

They can't look him in the eye.

"You just wanna—haha okay!" He smooths back his hair.

They're taking advantage of him.

They're... they still can't believe it.

He has to be lying.

"Well, um, let's go upstairs!"

They nod.

Isabeau waits another few seconds before turning and heading for the stairs. Siffrin keeps an iron grip on his hand.

They pass the living room and catch a glance at the chaos that unfolded. Bonnie and Lupus are busy picking up scattered puzzle pieces on the floor. Odile looks up from crafting the leg back on a tipped-over chair. "Oh, are you finished talk—ohh?" She looks at their linked hands and her lips curl up in a sly smile. "Don't be too rough with our rogue, Isabeau," she smirks.

Isabeau chokes out a squeak. "M'DAME! IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!"

She snorts. "I'll keep the kids distracted for a while, but for gem's sake, lock the door and be back before dinner."

Siffrin tilts their head and looks back and forth between both of them.

Isabeau blubbers and grips Siffrin's hand almost to the point of pain. "W-we're just getting cleaned up! That's all!"

She's already buried her nose back in her task.

"What was that all about?" Siffrin questions as Isabeau practically drags them to the stairs.

"N-nothing! Here, let's get you cleaned up, and we can talk more!"

"O-kay."

Siffrin leans against Isabeau as they ascend. His legs still haven't regained full sensation yet, but Isabeau seems perfectly content with helping them up.

They make it to the bathroom and stand beside each other as they tend to their soiled clothes. He can still feel Isabeau's heat radiating off him to their right.

They want more, but...

"Oh, Sif, you're bleeding!"

"Huh?" They push their hair aside to look in the mirror and see that a bit of bad blood has indeed soaked through their bandages. They pull them off and touch their cheek just below their missing eye.

"Sif! Your eye!" He chokes in horror.

"Oh, right, yeah, it gave out earlier."

"It—Crab, did you tell Mira?"

They shrink in on themself. What’s she gonna do? She can’t make it grow back. "It's fine, the bleeding stopped. Can we talk about something else?"

"S—Right, sorry," Isabeau sighs. "I was worried I made you bad bleed after all that."

If only he knew.

"No haha, you're fine." They dab at their socket with a washcloth.

"Do you want me to redo your bandages?"

"It's fine, I got it." They've already tormented him with their rot enough.

"Are you sure? I would... ah... like to." He scratches behind his ear.

"You want to?" They feel their cheeks flush with red.

"Mhm," he smiles.

"Oh... Okay."

Isabeau's smile grows and takes the fresh bandages from their hand. He eyeballs the used pile and unrolls roughly the same length of gauze.

"Hold on, let's sit down for this."

They head for the bed and plop down beside each other; their combined weight on the mattress causes it to dip enough to push them together.

They both squeak.

Isabeau shimmies over so he's cross-legged and pats the space in front of him. They settle in before him and scratch at their head right above their rot. When they pull away, their fingers get caught in a tangle, and they wince as some hair comes free.

"Oh, Sif, your hair is... do you want me to brush it? If it's not too much?"

They're not sure they can even handle more touch, and they've taken so much from him already.

"Sure."

Disgusting.

Isabeau lights up and swings his upper body over the side of the bed to reach his bag.

"Hold on, your hair is kind of like Mira's." He digs into it, panting and shaking from the strain. "Ha! Still have it. I think this'll work." He swings back up and takes a deep breath.

"Huh?" they blink.

"I've had some practice with your hair type with friends back home," he says as he twists his back from side to side. "So don't worry too much about me ruining it."

"You can't make it any worse than it already is," they snort.

"I mean, yeah, you're probably right," he snorts back, "but I want it to look good still!"

"...Thank you." They try to dip their head into their cloak, but realize too late that they took it off an hour ago.

"Of course. It's the least I can do."

It's more than he should do.

"Okay, can you sit up straight?"

Siffrin slowly stretches his back up and grabs a pillow to hold to his chest..

"I'll avoid the hair around the," his voice lowers, "curse."

"I don't feel it, anyway."

A small pause. "I just want to be careful."

They give him a noncommittal shrug.

Slowly, cautiously, Isabeau slides his fingers under their hair and pulls a handful toward him. He slips the comb in and carefully starts working it through their tangles.

It doesn't hurt.

It feels good, actually.

They find themself relaxing a bit.

He's so gentle.

Every time he hits a knot, he holds it steady with his fingers and picks at it bit by bit until it's free.

What happened? He's back to the old Isabeau, but... even more?

If they had hugged him back properly before, would they have avoided all that blinding nonsense?

If they weren't so stupid when he first started acting distant, would they have avoided even more nonsense?

They bite their lip and squeeze the pillow.

"You okay?" His voice. So caring.

"Yeah."

"Not hurting you, am I?"

"No." And for once, that's the truth. He holds their hair so carefully that they hardly feel a thing whenever he hits a tangle.

His hands, though, every time they brush against their bare skin, it's like they're burned with little points of fire.

But it's not that bad! Not as bad as before! They could even get used to it!

They close their eye.

And just... feel...

"Okay, I think I'm done." Isabeau's voice jolts them out of near sleep.

"That was quick."

"Quick? That took a while, haha. Did you zone out?"

"Uh..."

"That's okay. It probably means it felt good? I hope?"

"Yeah, it felt nice." They run their fingers through their hair. For the first time in who knows how long, they don't snag on anything. It's actually pretty soft.

"Okay, phew." He sighs.

"Thank you," they murmur.

"Don't mention it," he smiles. "Uhm, is there anything else you want me to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, to make up for being such a crab."

Oh, so not because he wants to?

"It's fine, you don't need to." They dig their fingers into their shoulder and squeeze a few times.

Isabeau's breath is heavy. "I want to, though. Like, uh... I could... well... you seem tense, so maybe possibly you'd like a back rub?" His voice’s pitch steadily increases. "Like, just as a friendly friend thing."

Are there unfriendly back rubs???

Siffrin's hand freezes. That's... when was the last time that happened? Have they ever had a massage? That sounds... good, actually.

But ugh, they don't deserve it.

But, but maybe he can have this one indulgence.

But no he already brushed their hair so this is too much to ask.

But Isabeau did offer it.

But if they accepted it, then he might think they want him to make up for something.

"Sif?"

"I-I-I'd like that," they squeak. "Please."

Isabeau gasps and sits up straighter. "Of course! One Sif massage coming right up hahahhhah." He squeezes the base of his neck and takes a few deep breaths. “Actually, lemme get your bandages back on.”

“Oh, right.” They turn around and let Isabeau tend to them.

As with the brushing, he’s so careful and gentle. He parts their hair to get them nice and snug against their head, with no bunching or tangling. He struggles to look at them as he covers their rot; his eyes keep darting away, but he forces them back to their face each time.

“Is this okay? Not too tight or scratchy?” He gives the bandages a light tug.

They run their fingers around the edges and nod.

Isabeau sighs and wipes his hands on an extra piece of gauze. “Okay! Okay, well, Massage time! I guess I'll start with your shoulders a-and you tell me what you want from there!"

Siffrin nods, inhaling sharply. They hug the pillow and go still as they wait. Isabeau's taking his time touching him. 

Did he change his mind? Did he realize how disgusting they are? How they're manipulating him into this by making him feel guilty? Did they—

His hands touch their shoulders. They almost yelp.

Hot!

They flinch.

Hot!

"Sorry! Sorry! Did I hurt you?"

"N-no it's fine! Haha. Just not used to this, I guess."

"Oh... Sif I'm sorry I never offered before, I should have asked—"

"It's fine! Really! Don't worry about it."

He's silent for a moment.

"Okay, well... I'm going to touch you again. Ready?"

No.

"Yeah."

They steel themself and soon feel his scorching hands return. They still flinch, but less than before, and Isabeau doesn't pull away.

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." He gives them a squeeze and they give him a squeak in return.

"Ah! Did that hurt?"

"I'm not fragile," they snap, but find themself leaning back a bit.

"Ah, right, sorry." He squeezes again. And again, a bit harder each time.

Ohh... that's actually pretty nice. Despite the heat.

They sigh and lean back as Isabeau's strong hands dig into their stiff muscles.

"This good?"

They nod.

Isabeau hums and starts working his way down their back. They push down a shudder as the heat is removed from their skin and is rushed by the chill air.

Isabeau gives a questioning hum.

"S'good," they murmur.

Isabeau digs his fingers deeper, working their muscles looser and looser.

He's not pressing his whole hand on them. It's manageable.

It's nice.

"Gotta hand it to you," Siffrin smirks. "This feels pretty spine."

"Ha," Isabeau chuckles breathily and gets cut off by a hiccup.

"Ex-squeeze-me," they gasp. "I thought this was funny-bone enough to warrant a bigger laugh than that." Oof, that was a reach.

Isabeau snorts and belts out quite a few louder chuckles. When his laughter subsides, he sighs. "I missed this, I missed you." He presses his forehead against the back of their head and hums. "I love you."

Siffrin gasps. "I—"

Isabeau pulls away, smile falling, but he puts it back on with a melancholy tint not a moment later. "Sorry. It's okay if you don't feel the same way."

"What? No—I..." How DO they feel about him? Everything they thought was just turned on its head. How did they feel before? Was he a good friend? Was there something other than normal, friendly-friend feelings??? What is he to them!?

"I don't know." Their voice is quiet, almost a whisper.

He gives their shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry about it. You don't have to know. I'm sure—ugh—I'm sure how I've been acting has really soured whatever you felt toward me."

Siffrin rubs their arm and sinks in on themself, tensing.

"I'm sorry." Isabeau chokes. "I'm—Actually, let's just think about something else, for now. I just... I want you to know I care about you so much, even if you don't feel the same way. And I'll do anything for you, Sif."

"Okay," they say so so quietly.

"Okay," Isabeau repeats in a whisper.

"Thank you."

"Of course." He slides his hands down their back and silently gets back to work.

They feel almost floaty. Almost like they shouldn't be enjoying it so much.

But...

Maybe just this once.

They lean a little more and let out a soft sigh.

"Wow, haha, you sound like you're enjoying this, at least." Isabeau chuckles, voice quivering.

"Yeah..." they nod.

"Good! Haha, I'm glad." He sticks his knuckles on either side of their spine and presses down, working his way toward their hips.

"Ooh, this feels pretty tight here." He pokes at a sore spot right below their ribs. "Hold on," He slides one hand up to their shoulder, keeping contact with them the entire time. "Tell me if it's too much." He grips them at the base of their neck and pulls them back while he digs his fist into the knot.

The heat is back; they can feel the stretch; it hurts, but ohh, they can feel it loosening by the second. He lets out another sigh.

Isabeau's breath shudders, and he pauses for a brief second before going back to work.

"How's that?" He breathes after a solid minute of digging around that area.

Siffrin hums, then stretches up and twists his back a few times. They hadn't even realized how tight that area was until then...

...Oh no, now they're going to notice it each time they loop.

There's no way he can ask for this again; it's too indulgent.

Well, they can always dig a rock into it or something.

Isabeau moves on from that spot to find another, smaller knot just a bit lower. He does the same thing, gripping their opposite shoulder and working it away.

Where has this been all their life?

They sigh again, brain filling up with mist.

He leans back, and his head comes to rest in Isabeau's lap. His pants are a nice buffer against the heat.

Isabeau squeaks. "O-oh, d-does it feel that nice?"

They hum again.

"Haha, wow, okay, uh do you… Do you want me to get your head?"

That sounds nice.

Disgusting, disgusting, eyes bigger than your stomach.

All you do is take.

They nod.

"Great! Haha, I'd love to. I can feel how soft you are now, hah."

He slides his fingers into their hair and curls them into a fist, lightly tugging at their locks. He lets go and starts massaging their scalp.

It's so nice. It's almost tingly. They feel so light.

Disgusting.

But... but, just please just this one indulgence.

Isabeau's hands work their way under the back of their skull and dig right into the base. They feel their whole neck loosening up, and they sink even further into him and the mattress.

The fog envelops their mind, pushing away all thoughts, just... feeling nice...

Isabeau lifts their head up and stretches out their neck. They feel a light pop and some joints still waiting to crack, but Isabeau doesn't put much more strain on them.

Oh well.

"Isaaaa."

"Y-yeah, Sif?"

He cracks his eye open. Isabeau is looking straight down at them.

He looks intense.

They... don't know what it means.

It's too much.

They turn over and bury their face in—

"Whoa! Hey!" He yelps and freezes.

"What?" they reply, muffled.

"Wow, I didn't think we'd be going there! I mean, are you sure this is a good idea, since you're—"

"Huh—WAH!" They fly up at lightning speeds. Their hair brushes against Isabeau's nose as he barely manages to dodge. "SORRY I WASN'T PAYING ATTENTION!"

Awful awful awful disgusting why did you do this to him!? Why the blinding stars did you do that?

"OH!" Isabeau sputters and coughs. "Oh, so that was an accident, haha, right! You didn't want to... I mean no, that's fine! You're probably in no condition to do this anyway." His cheeks are the darkest they've ever seen.

Do what?

Heart thundering in their chest, their mind slowly puts the pieces together.

He wants to...

Oh.

Ohhhhhh...

"You want to do that with me?" Their cheeks darken to match his. They stare at their hands.

He goes rigid. "N-n-no! Ah! I mean." He pulls at the collar of his shirt. "I can't say I've never thought about it, but I'm sure you're probably not feeling up to it and probably don't even want to given how I've..." His expression dulls. "How I've been acting."

"Stop. It's my fault for not realizing that. And for—"

"Sif."

"Sorry. I'm—I'm sorry." They turn away.

"It's fine. You're—I don't want you to feel responsible for my actions."

But they are.

They squeeze their shoulders.

He wants to have sex with you? He wants to touch you like that? He wants to—

"Anyway," Isabeau coughs. "Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed that was on purpose."

The words tumble out of their mouth. "What if... I do want to try it?"

What are you saying?

[Dawn!?]

Of course, Loop's been watching.

"Bwuh!?!??" Isabeau nearly topples back. "For real? I mean uh!" He lets out a series of inhuman sounds as his lips try desperately to form words. "I would—I mean—I-I-I don't know if this is a good idea when you're so sick."

They bristle. "I'm. Not. Fragile."

Isabeau gasps. "S-sorry. I'm not saying you are. Still, I really don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," they huff.

What are you saying, Siffrin? Are you agreeing to this!?

[Dawn, what are you thinking? Do NOT do this! Neither of you are in the right mind for this.]

Get out of my head Loop.

They pointedly glare at a random corner of the room.

"Sif?"

"Sorry, thought I saw a bug."

"Hahhahah okay. B-but really. I—I don't know. I mean—I think I do want to but I don't know if we should. I mean it's kind of unprofessional of me to get so, like, close to my client like this a-and, well Mira's my client but you're also with her so I guess you technically are too and also I'm the kind of guy who wants to, you know, build up to that before jumping right in, anyway. And also I don't know what I'd do with myself if I hurt you on your... well... if tomorrow's your last day... with us."

They shrink into themself. "You already hurt me."

WHAT!? WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?

"Sif, I—"

"Ack! I mean! It's fine! It's fine!"

"No, you're right,” he sighs. “I did hurt you." His eyes start to glisten again. "And I... just—I don't want to hurt you again, right after we’ve made up."

"I already told you, Isabeau, I'm choosing to go tomorrow just like I'm choosing to have... to hhhh to—" They try to pull down the hat that's not there. "Do this... with you."

[Dawn.]

They clench their fist.

Isabeau looks at them. Really looks at them. Studies their face, their expression.

They force themself to face him and they put on the most determined look they can muster. Their cheeks are on fire, and for once it’s not from Isabeau's hands.

"Okay," Isabeau breathes after an agonizing minute.

"Okay?"

"Okay, I'll do it." He sits up straighter and exhales. "I'll make this the best thing you've ever experienced." Another deep breath. "But if I hurt you, even a little bit—if you're at all uncomfortable, please, please tell me, okay?"

They won't.

"Of course," he smiles.

Isabeau visibly relaxes.

[Dawn, please reconsider. This is going to ruin both of you.]

Siffrin tries to brush Loop out of their mind.

Don't watch you creep.

[I'm not planning on watching! I don't want you doing this at all!]

I don't care about what you want here! This is my life! And I'm going to do this!

[You don't care, do you? You're going to do this anyway?]

Finally, they get it.

[Well then! I'm not going to be your therapist about this later so I better not hear about it next loop!]

Siffrin leans closer. "Okay, so... now what?"

Isabeau hums. "Well, what do you usually do?"

"Um... I don't?" They scratch their head.

"What do you mean?" He raises an eyebrow.

"I've uh... never done this before?"

"You haven't???" His eyes go wide, and he looks between them and the door several times. "But... Lupus???" He points in their general direction.

Stars, they forgot about that.

Quick, think of something!

"Oh... Lupus is actually my uh... sibling's. I just took them in after..."

Yeah, that's right, trail off, look sadly into the distance, and let Isabeau fill in the blanks with whatever he wants. You can be smart sometimes, Siffrin!

Isabeau cringes. "Ohhh, okay. That makes so much more sense." He seems... relieved? "Sorry if it's a sore subject."

"It's fine," they chuckle. "Anyway! Nope! I haven't... done this before. I mean, I know you put your... thingy inside my... me and there's some stuff before I think."

"Oh, Change," Isabeau murmurs and bites his lip. "Okay, well, we're just gonna have to go real slow, I guess. Hopefully Odile won't get too impatient with us, hahah."

They laugh nervously.

Isabeau joins in, then his breath hitches, and he looks away. "Oh, uh, also, you don't have to worry about getting p-pregnant because I never crafted that function in also I've been tested since the last time I had sex and I'm clear so don't worry about that either hhhaha."

"I mean, that's not really a concern either way," Siffrin gives a shaky chuckle.

Isabeau goes quiet, his smile falling. "Right, um." He bites his lip. "Sorry. Are you sure you want to do this?"

No.

"Yes."

Isabeau breathes out. "Okay, well, let's start slow then, hugs and kisses?"

...Hug...

"Sounds good."

Isabeau opens his arms and...

They freeze.

Again, he waits. He doesn't grab them.

Siffrin stares. It's just a hug; they had one less than an hour ago.

"Sif?"

With a deep breath in, they shimmy forward and press their body against him. They exhale.

Still hot. But it's not overpowering.

Isabeau places one hand on their back, and the other.

They start to tremble.

Don't think about fire don't think about fire don't think about fire.

Oh... it's much nicer.

"You okay, Sif?"

"Mhm," they murmur, body relaxing on each exhale.

"Good," his voice is so soft and rumbly against them, almost like a purr. He starts to rub circles on their back. Their skin crawls, but in a good way? Almost.

They have no idea what to do, so they just mirror his actions.

"Oh, Sif," Isabeau breathes into their ear. A violent shudder runs down their body. Isabeau digs his fingers into their shoulder and presses his face to the crook of their neck. "You really want to do this with me? After everything?"

... They don't know.

"Yeah," they murmur.

He chokes out a laugh. "I don't deserve this."

He's right. He deserves someone not so blindingly stupid—someone who's not going to die the following day.

"D-don't ah—" they keen as Isabeau presses his lips to their throat.

"What would you like?" he whispers into them.

"I-I don't know."

He kisses them again, and all they can do is continue rubbing his back.

Just do what he does, and it'll be over soon.

"Can I touch your chest?"

They nod.

Isabeau's breath hitches, and he breaks their embrace, leaving Siffrin gasping from the shock of the cold. His hands are still on their shoulders, tethering the last bit of heat to them.

Isabeau shifts himself closer to their side and, oh so slowly, leans them back against the pillows.

"This okay?"

"Mhm."

He smiles; his eyes are glistening, and his cheeks are stained with drying tear tracks.

Their fault.

They don't move.

Isabeau gives him the warmest smile—almost as warm as his scorching hands.

"Can I kiss you first?"

"You already did?"

"I mean," he looks away, jaw quivering. "On the mouth?"

"Oh." They look away, too. "Yeah."

Isabeau lets out a little pleased warble. He presses one hand by their side and leans over them.

"Ready?"

They nod, body tensing.

Just relax, it'll be fine.

Isabeau slides one hand behind their head and lets the other rest against their stomach, right below their breast. He leans closer, closer, breath heavy against their face.

They close their eye.

His lips touch theirs.

"Ah!" They whimper as a tiny spark runs through them.

"Sif, you okay?" He blinks.

"Mhm, it felt good."

It felt like skin against skin? But... tingly? Almost???

"Want to try again?"

They nod.

"Okay," he breathes and leans back in, a little faster this time. Their lips brush again, a little off center.

It's warm.

They hum.

It's not so bad.

Isabeau deepens the kiss, shifting his lips just slightly to their left until they come to rest between their mouth and their bandages.

"Is this okay?" He murmurs, just barely far enough back to speak.

"Yeah." 'Okay' is definitely the right word.

No. No, it's good. Not just okay. So what if the kiss isn't some storybook explosion of sparkles and bells or whatever.

It's nice.

To be this close.

To be towered over and held in place so gently but no he's not holding them in place his hands aren't even on them but he's looking at them so intensely but no it's soft and he's being so loving but it's a lot.

Maybe they want him on them, crushing them.

They fumble around with their left arm until it finds Isabeau's wrist. He gasps when they wrap their fingers around him and slide them up his arm until they come to rest on his shoulder.

"Sif." He presses his forehead to theirs.

"Isa." They tug down on his shoulder, and he slowly lowers himself onto them so that their chests are touching.

"This okay?"

Hot!

Hot hot hot hot!

They can't breathe they're being crushed it's...

Oh... He's barely touching them. It's not that bad.

Actually kinda nice.

"Sif?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you sure?" He pulls back to look at them.

"Yes. Just uh... surprised me is all." They bite at the inside of their cheek.

"Ah, sorry, do you want me to say what I'm going to do before I do it?"

Oh. That would probably be ideal.

They nod.

"Alright! That's easy enough," he smiles warmly.

He's being too kind, too gentle.

More than they deserve.

This isn't right; they're just manipulating him into this after crying all over him like a sad, wet cat. Isabeau doesn't actually want this, does he? Not when they're probably just going to bleed and cough all over him. They're just being disgusting and greedy. He probably doesn't even love them! He just panicked when they wouldn't get off his back! They’re just chasing a lie.

They find themself tensing up and unconsciously shying away from Isabeau.

Isabeau pulls back further this time, settling on his knees beside them. "Sif, something is wrong. Please tell me," he frowns.

They clench their jaw. "It's stupid."

"Sif, it's okay, I'm not going to judge."

They take a deep breath. "This just doesn't feel real." Another breath. "An hour ago, I thought you hated me and were disgusted by my curse. And now you're telling me you lll—you love me? And are doing all this for me?"

"Ah," his expression darkens, and he wipes his hand down his face. "Change, Sif."

They shut their eye and whimper.

"I do l-love you, I really do. And I want to make you happy."

Siffrin mumbles something under their breath.

Isabeau seems to sink into himself. "You don't believe me, do you?"

They grimace. "I—I don't know."

He slowly, carefully reaches out for them. He waits for them to see his hands and softly scoops theirs up between his. Warm.

"Can I show you? Show you that I'm not lying when I say that? When I say I love you?"

They sniff. "How?"

He closes his eyes and gives their hands a little squeeze. When he slowly opens them again, he’s giving them a softer gaze than they even realize is possible. "To start, I'm going to make you feel amazing, so amazing you can't possibly deny it. I'll do whatever you want, just say the word. Even if you think it's weird or too much, I'm willing to try. Okay?"

"Oh, wow." They feel a jolt in their chest.

Isabeau takes a breath. "A-and while I'm doing that, I'll tell you everything I love about you, all my favorite memories of you, let you see just how much you mean to me, to all of us. Just... anything."

Siffrin's breath feels hot against their tongue as they process what Isabeau said. Their mind is spinning.

"B-but what if I ask for something really really weird?" they blubber out. What even would they ask? They’re not exactly an expert on kinks other than the ones in their spine. The wildest thing they can remember hearing about is feet, but they can’t recall feeling any different about them than any other body part.

"I won't judge you for anything. Promise,” he smiles and nods. “The most you have to fear is me saying 'maybe something else.' There's really not much I'm not willing to at least try."

"Really?"

"Really, really," he smiles. It's so warm, so genuine, they almost believe him.

"I—I have to think." They turn away.

Isabeau hums and squeezes their hands.

What do they want? That back rub was nice... but wasn't exactly sexual. Maybe they could, like, do it naked or something? No, that's weird. But he said he won't judge them. And rubbing their naked back probably isn't one of those few things he'll straight up refuse to do. But also, he's not going to get anything out of it.

But if—if he's willing to do that, then that must mean he's telling the truth, right?

They stretch their back to the side and dig their fingers in right above their hips. Now that he’s made them aware of all the kinks in their muscles, it's hard not to notice them. The one they're currently messing with definitely needs some more attention.

Maybe they can be a little selfish.

Chapter 2

Siffrin bites their cheek. No... they can't keep being selfish. That's too much to ask.

They should just get on with it, and it'll get better, maybe. But what do they do? They like, kiss and take each other's clothes off and he puts his thing—whatever it's called—in them and they move around, and it feels good, right?

That seems like so much! And there's like... goo and stuff!

But it's supposed to feel good. They've done things that are kinda weird but feel good before, right?

Oh, oh! like that time they went to the hot springs and covered themself in mud. That was gross but fun! And their skin felt so nice and smooth after! Pretend it's like that without the mud and bugs.

It'll be fine!

"Um," they begin, wavering. "You can put it in me?"

"Oh. Oh!" Isabeau blushes. "You wanna get right into it, haha!" He grabs his arms and squeezes. "Well, um, we probably should do some foreplay first so I don't hurt you."

"Ah." It's not supposed to hurt? That's good to know.

"You sure you're okay with this?" He tilts his head.

"Yes," they huff and puff out their cheeks in a light pout.

"Okay, okay," he sighs. "Then, can I kiss you again?"

They nod.

Isabeau leans over them, hand hovering by their shoulder. They flinch as he makes contact, then smile before he has a chance to second-guess himself. 

Hot.

Is Isabeau running warmer than before, or are they just losing it already? He's definitely sweatier.

His free hand comes up to cup their cheek. They're ready this time, and despite the heat, they don't flinch. 

Isabeau pinches their jaw and tilts their head just so, looking at them with his nose slightly scrunched and cheeks flushed so much darker. After a moment, he smiles softly and leans in. 

They close their eye.

Again, he brushes against their lips cautiously, testing. They push back, not quite sure what to do. Isabeau deepens the kiss, pulling them closer, closer. 

It's fine. It feels okay.

He starts trailing downward, sucking and nipping and humming against them, asking them how they are every few seconds. They put their hands on his back and rub it up and down, just to do something.

Isabeau's free hand slips up their arm and tugs at the strap of their shirt. They hum and raise an eyebrow at him.

He pulls back with a wet pop of their lips and wipes his mouth. "May I?"

May he what?

They nod, anyway.

Isabeau makes a little happy warble before he hooks his finger under the strap and pulls it down.

Oh!

They hold back a gasp as his weight shifts, and he does the same with the other one. Their shirt slips down a bit, but catches at the top of their small breasts. 

They're still covered. It's fine. The straps rubbing against their arm itch but it's fine!

But they'll have to take it off soon. All the way! But it'll still be fine! Because that's a natural and normal thing to do!

Isabeau comes back for another kiss. His hand comes up behind them and snakes through their hair, grabbing it gently. He shifts a bit more, working his knee between their legs, not quite touching their crotch, but close, too close.

He releases his grip on their hair and gives them a good scratch against their scalp. 

Ah... that does feel nice. A moan escapes their lips, and their body starts to relax—just a bit—until Isabeau starts trailing kisses away from their mouth. Their breath catches as he makes his way down their throat; they make themself keep rubbing their hands up and down his back. 

A small whimper escapes their lips, which seems to spur Isabeau on even more. He reaches their collarbone and presses his lips firmly into it.

Oh, he's getting closer to their chest. He's gonna... is he gonna kiss them there too? Take off their shirt and suck on their breasts?

They're not sure if they—they don't know.

Isabeau nuzzles downward, taking the collar of their shirt in his teeth and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulling it down.

Stars, no this is going too fast, he's gonna see them like that and he's gonna get closer closer so much closer and it's gonna be hot and stifling but it's not gonna hurt at least because he said it shouldn't hurt if they do their foreplay first but if it does it cant be that worse than the labyrinth but no no they're not ready they don't know if they'll ever be ready what do they do they can just relax and zone out but what if they miss something important but—

They let out a whimper as their body involuntarily curls away from Isabeau's lips.

"Siffrin!?" He sits back up, eyes wide.

"I'm fine!" they cough. "Keep going."

"N-no." He pulls away, shaking his head. "Something's wrong. Did I hurt you? Is your c—"

"It's not the curse!" 

He clenches his jaw. "Then what—what did I do?"

"Nothing!" They tangle their fingers in their hair and pull. "I'm just—argh!"

Isabeau reaches for them but freezes when they flinch back with a whine. "Sif, please tell me what's bothering you. Was I going too fast?"

"No. No." They shake their head over and over, then grab at him. "I just—" they whine.

He retreats from their hands, eyes flicking across their features, jaw trembling. "You didn't really want to do this, did you?" His voice is barely more than a breathless whisper.

"I do!" they yell. "You want this, so I want to try."

Isabeau chokes. "But... did you want this? For you?"

"I do if you do." They force a smile on their face. 

Isabeau's eyes widen even more, and his hand shakily finds its way to his mouth. "Sif—No, that's not how it works. You have to want it for yourself, too."

"It's fine," they chuckle, tilting their head and smiling. "It's supposed to feel good, so I'll get used to it."

"You'll get—Sif! What!?" He covers his face with his hands and drags them down. "Crab, I knew this was a bad idea. Siffrin, Sif. This isn't healthy."

A chuckle catches in their throat. "Nothing about me is healthy."

"Sif..." Isabeau seems to deflate. "Hey." His voice is so soft. He cups their cheek, so tender. It burns in its comfort. They find themself leaning into it.

"Sif, you might die tomorrow," he frowns.

"I'm well aware of that," they reply stiffly.

"I—Sorry, I don't want your last memories of me to be of me hurting you."

"It's fine."

"You keep saying that!" he barks, and Siffrin flinches. "Ah—sorry! I'm sorry. Sif, I care about you so so much. I want you to live, I want you to be safe, I want you to be comfortable and happy, I want to save you. I don't want to be the reason you're hurting!" His voice cracks and his hand flies to his throat and squeezes.

Siffrin shrinks into themself and rubs their arm. "But you're not." Their voice lowers. "Not anymore. It's my own body being stupid about this."

Isabeau swallows a whimper. "That doesn't matter. I should be meeting you where you're comfortable. And if that means no sex, then that's where we'll meet."

"But I should like it." They grow even quieter. "Everyone else does."

He flinches. "No, Sif, not everyone. And even if they did, you shouldn't have to force yourself to be like them."

"But..."

"It's okay if you don't like sex, really."

"But I have to make it up to you."

"Make it—what!?" His jaw drops. He shifts even further away, bed creaking. 

Stupid! Why did you blinding say that!?

"Nothing."

"No, it's not nothing! What do you mean by 'make it up', Sif?"

They can't look, they can't speak. Their fault. It's all their fault.

"Sif?"

They clench their jaw to the point of pain. "I made you act like that because I wasn't taking this seriously enough. You're right, it's the end of the world and I'm pretending everything's fine and making stupid jokes and—"

"Sif!"

They flinch.

Isabeau sinks his face into his hands. "Sorry, I'm sorry, again. Ugh, crab, I keep messing up." He takes a deep breath, which is cut off by a sob and a whimper.

Oh no no, you made him cry! What do you do?

Slowly, they reach out.

"S-sif..."

Fire burns through their mind, paralyzing them.

Stupid! Stupid! Just do it! He didn't grab you the last time so it's fine!

But it's okay if he does because you're ready this time!

So just do it!

They tense, breathe, and set their hand down on his shoulder.

He gasps and freezes, then slowly, slowly looks up.

... Now what?

"Isa," they murmur.

"Sif," he sniffs.

"I... hug?"

"Are you sure?"

They open their mouth but no sound escapes. They grit their teeth and squeeze their eye shut. "...No."

Isabeau digs his fingers into his forehead.

"But um..." Siffrin leans forward and rests his head on Isabeau's chest. His already frantic heartbeat spikes with the breath that catches in his throat. His hands reach out, shaking, but slowly fall to his side.

"Just like this?" Isabeau breathes.

"Yeah."

The two of them take the time to just breathe. The chilling air fills their lungs as they take in as much as they can before slowly letting out a scorching exhale. Isabeau matches their timing.

In and out.

Over and over.

They listen closely as Isabeau's heart rate slows to something even and comforting, and in time, theirs does the same.

Now they just feel drained, heavy.

They lean closer to Isabeau. The room is getting colder. They shudder.

Isabeau hovers a hand over their arm, then lightly brushes his finger on their strap. "Do you want me to put these back on?" he says in the most gentle, soothing voice.

They nod against him.

He hums and slips them back up with little fanfare. "How are you feeling now?"

"Tired." The word just tumbles out.

"Yeah, I—I bet." He rests his forehead against the top of theirs. "I'm sorry."

Siffrin can only whine.

"To be honest," he shifts so his cheek is pressed against their hair. "I wasn't super comfortable with doing this either. For a few reasons."

"Wha..?" They freeze.

"I mean, to start, I'd rather work up to it by getting to know you more... intimately so I know where your comfort levels—both our comfort levels—are, especially since you've never done this before. And most importantly, i-if I messed up, if I hurt you—and I did—there's no way I can fix it when tomorrow's..."

Disgusting. Disgusting. You pressured him into this! You pressured him into this and you didn't even want it and now he feels awful! What is wrong with you, Siffrin? You can't do anything right.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." The tears begin to fall.

"Sif, Sif, it's okay. We stopped, right?" he smiles with an empty look in his eyes. "We both made mistakes. I think the stress of tomorrow is probably getting to us and giving us poo brain."

Despite themself, they let out a single breathy chuckle. "Poo brain."

"Poo brain." Isabeau giggles back. "I wanted to make all this up to you. You did nothing wrong, Sif, so you don't have to push yourself to do something you hate for my sake."

"But—"

He continues before they can. "So if I can make this up to you—or at least try—without sex, what would you like?" He shifts around, managing to keep his chest still to avoid jostling Siffrin, until he's sitting cross-legged. "Like, um, is it any touch you're not okay with? I could give you another back rub, ah—don't—don't say yes unless you really want to, okay?"

"Hmrmghrhg," Siffrin mumbles into Isabeau's shirt. A back rub would be nice, but... He shivers as the evening cold saps the sweaty heat Isabeau left behind when his hands explored their body. Their hair stands on end.

"Maybe a little more of this?"

"Sure!" He seems entirely too eager to sit in what seems to be not the most comfortable position. "Just this?"

"Mmm," they nod against him, and he hums back

Moments pass silently, save for their breaths and the faint sound of galloping children from downstairs. "You're really okay with this?"

"Hm?" He fidgets with the bunched-up blankets with his feet.

"Not having--" they swallow. "Sex."

"Of course." He stills. "Sif, it's not a big deal. And either way, this is for you."

"I'm sorry," they breathe.

"It's okay. I'm more sorry."

"No me."

"No me."

Siffrin snorts and presses closer to Isabeau.

Ba-thump Ba-thump Ba-thumpBa-thumpBathumpBathump!

That pulls another giggle from both of them.

"I love you, Sif."

Their laughter is cut off with a whine.

"Sorry!" He goes rigid. "Sorry, sorry. I'm—sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's just..." They hug themself tightly.

"You still don't believe me, do you?"

They sniffle.

"Oh, Sif." Leaning back and away from Siffrin, he places his hand on their cheek and oh-so-gently tips their face up to look at him. "How do I get you to understand you deserve the world?"

They try to turn away, but Isabeau holds them there. Gently. So gently—they could pull back if they really tried, but—

They hold their hand over their thundering heart as Isabeau’s eyes bore into them.

Eye contact too much. They stare at his earring instead.

"But I—" they stutter.

"You do." His words are final.  "I can still tell you all the things I love about you, you know,” he huffs with a sad smirk.

They don't think they can believe that either. "I don't understand," they mumble. "I'm just..." There's really not much to deny; they can't do anything outside of drawing the Director's ire away from their family.

"Useless."

Isabeau's hand twitches, nearly crushing Siffrin's jaw for a fraction of a second. "You're not useless, you're sick! You've helped us so much on this journey.” His hands travel down to their shoulders. “We might never have made it here if it weren't for you. You saved us from that bad showing, you found so many traps and practically half of the star crests. A-and—” he looks away, grimacing before taking a breath and meeting their gaze again. 

“Your worth isn't in how useful you are to us. That doesn’t matter to me!” His voice cracks—so does their heart. “I really, really enjoy being around you and that won't change even if I have to carry you everywhere we go for the rest of your life."

Isabeau pauses to take several deep breaths. Sweat drips down from his arms to his hands and Siffrin's shoulders.

"Why?" they whimper.

"Because I love you, Sif. You're my best friend, and I always want to be by your side, and I'll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe me." He releases his hold on them, and they hide their face against him. 

"Or—" His voice trembles. "I’m sorry. If this is too much and you don't feel the same way and want me to back off, I'll do it."

"No, no it's..." they choke. "I-I... I don't know. I..." They dig their nails into their shoulders. "I feel something... different about you than about the others, but..."

But the grabbing, but the arguing, but the confusion, but the lies, the drinking, the fire.

Isabeau waits.

"I have to think about it."

He nods, solemnly. "That's okay. It's okay if you don't know—never know. I won't push you into anything."

"...Thank... you..."

"Of course. I'm here for you, Sif. And so are the others. We all care about you. We can handle this. We want to save you."

Stars, back on this again?

... It's fine... It's because he cares.

But still...

"I'm just scared," he sniffs, "I wish I could be fearless like you, but—"

"What? Fearless!?" He really does believe that?

"Bwuh?" Isabeau jumps back, and they almost fall from the lack of support.

"Isa, you don't understand! I'm terrified!" They wipe their eye with their forearm and muss up their bandages in the process, revealing a sliver of their rot.

"What? You're—” His gaze keeps flicking between their eye and their curse. “But you never seem like it? You always seem so confident. But I guess... well..." he trails off and lets his eyes flick all over them, studying. He clenches his jaw, lines of worry aging him in a moment.

Stars blast it, you might as well tell him.

They swallow and squeeze their eye shut, scrunching up their whole face. "I don't want to die alone."

"What?” he gasps. “Sif you won't, we'll save—"

"Stop it!” they hiss. Isabeau flinches away, hand over his chest. “You don't understand!" They sob and pull back, sitting up to their full height yet still having to tilt their head up to meet his gaze. "I could drop dead any minute now, even if I don't go with you to the Labyrinth. I can't stand the thought of being alone and forgotten like I never even mattered in the first place!"

"Oh. Ohh, Sif." Isabeau deflates and puts a hand to his mouth, as if holding back a retch. "I—I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't... think you were afraid of anything."

A harsh laugh rips through them. They angrily wipe away tears.

"S-Sif?" he winces.

"How? How did you think that?" They dig their nails into their scalp.

Isabeau clenches his forearms and shrinks in on himself. "Well, I mean. When we first found out about your curse, you seemed… so unbothered by it, like it was just a cold.” He wipes his eyes and sniffles. “I—I'm sorry. I should have known."

"I—I don't care if I die—" they mumble and tug at their bandages.

Isabeau chokes.

"I just... don't want to be alone. I'm terrified of being left behind."

"Sif." He runs his fingers through his sweaty hair and looks to the ceiling, struggling. "I—okay. Okay." He breathes. "I-I'll make sure that won't happen, okay?"

"Really?" they blink.

"Really really. But..." He clenches his jaw.

Of course, there's always a 'but.'

"But if you can just hang on for a little bit, then we can kill the Director quickly and come back for you. I promise, I super duper promise."

"I—" they shake their head. "I can't risk it. I can't stand the thought of any of you getting hurt in my place, either. The Director only wants to torment me. If I'm there, xe won't hurt any of you, and it might target one of you instead if I stay behind."

"The Di—" Isabeau jerks his head up, eyebrows raised. "Sif, what do you mean? How do you know this?" He shifts his body, causing the mattress to creak in protest. They can feel his full, analytical attention peeling them open.

Stars. Blinding idiot why did you say that?

They freeze, unable to even breathe.

"Sif, how do you know this?"

"..."

"Do—” He coughs out a wavering chuckle, lips twitching. “Do you know something we don't, or are you just anxious?"

"I'm—" They could take that and run, just use anxiety as an excuse, get him off their back.

But...

But he... maybe he can ask... just once. If Isabeau is really okay with not having sex after it was promised to him—if he really meant what he said about their usefulness not mattering—then he should be okay with them talking about the loops.

Right?

Or is that a stretch?

But all this is a bust, anyway, so they probably should just loop back soon and try again.

No. Not a bust. They still made progress... even if it was just learning a few little things, and it was really, really messy.

Maybe they can just... say it once and—but no, if they tell him now, then he might be even more insistent they stay back.

But now they're stuck in a tight spot, and if they loop back, then they lose that progress.

But does that progress overshadow the... mess?

Everything is tightening, they can't breathe, they can't move, they—

"SIF!"

"Wha?"

"Sif, breathe, breathe. Let go of your arms."

They look down to see they have dug their nails deeply into their forearms; blood pricks out from a few of them. They whimper.

"Please tell me," Isabeau strains. "What's going on?"

"It's better that you don't know." They pull the blanket over their knees.

"No," his tone grows firmer. "I think I—we all need to know this. If you know something about the Director that we don't, then knowing it might help us defeat them."

They shake their head so hard it hurts. "It won't. Just know that if I don't go with you tomorrow, then the Director might target one of you instead. And I can't... I couldn't live with that."

Isabeau stares into them.

"Let that be our choice, then."

"Huh?" they sniff, looking right into him. Still so intense, still too much, too much!

"If this is true, then let it be our choice to go in knowing that. I'll choose to go in knowing that, and I'm sure Mira and M’Dame will too."

"But, Bonbon, Lulu." It's already bad enough bringing them normally.

"The kids can stay back with you so you're not alone."

They jump, body hair standing on end. "What? No! If I die anyway and it's just them here, what are they supposed to do?"

"We can see if someone in Dormont has any medical experience and can watch over you."

Ugh, but that means a stranger would be alone with them.

Unless...

Dusk.

No. No, they're not seriously considering it.

"I... no, no, I can't do it. I've seen what the Director can do. I-I-I can't let it happen to any of you."

Isabeau tilts his head. "Have you faced the Director before? I—but didn't you say you've never been here before? Or did you see xem before ce took over the house?"

"Yes!" they nod manically. "Yes, that! Exactly that. I uh... we met before and fae told me ey's only here to torture Siffrins and I'm a Siffrin and none of you are so you'll be safe hahah!"

Isabeau stares, gaze prying Siffrin open more. They try and fail to hide.

"B-but," they stammer under his critical eye. "I don't know if I can believe her! So I don't know if you will be safe!"

His face pinches in a frown. "...I'm not sure if I believe you now, buddy."

Stupid terrible acting.

"Sif, please tell me."

"I can't. You won't believe me anyway."

"Try me."  His gaze is stern and his voice sharp.

Siffrin's breath hitches. They slowly, slowly look to him. Isabeau is staring right back, a look of determination on his face.

"I—I don't know if I... I don't want to. I'm—" they swallow. "—afraid."

"Afraid?" 

"I can't let her hurt you. Even if it resets."

Stars!

They cringe violently.

"Resets?"

They don't say anything.

IDIOT!

"Sif. I promise, whatever you're worried about me doing if you tell me, I won't. I won't get angry or freak out at you or anything."

"But what if you do?"

"I mean," he tilts his head from side to side, "unless you're coming out to say you've been secretly working for the Director or something I'm not—"

"No!" they recoil, snarling. "No stars blast I would never never never work for that blinding asteroid rock—"

"Whoa! Whoa! Sif, okay, I wasn't implying you were. I'm just saying—it's okay. It's okay." He hovers his hands over theirs and, after they make no move to pull away, gently sets his down and rubs his thumbs over their fingers. Deep breath. "I promise. I promise, Sif. Whatever you have to say, I won't think of you any differently. I will do anything to help you, and knowing this might help us save everyone, save you."

They sniffle.

"Please," he whines.

"I—okay."

Isabeau lights up and seems to melt in relief. "Okay, thank you, Sif. Thank you." He gives their hands a gentle squeeze.

"I've been—" they squeeze their eye shut and their whole body tenses. They grind their feet into the bedding. "I'm in a blinding time loop!"

"Wh-what?" he blinks and shakes his head. "A ti—how? Like... Time Craft? But that should be impossible!"

"See!?" they snap. "I told you you wouldn't believe me."

"I didn't say that, Sif," he wavers. "I believe you. I promise I do, I just don't understand."

"I don't know!" they hiss. "I don't know how it works! It has something to do with the wish I made. Just—just every time I die, I wake up in the meadow in Dormont a few hours ago."

"Die?" Isabeau chokes.

They flinch violently and bite down on their lip until it bleeds.

Isabeau breathes heavily for a long moment, squeezing their hands rhythmically. "You've died?"

They bite harder and nod.

"H-how?"

He shrinks in on himself.

"Sorry—sorry you don't have to tell me. I just... Sif, were you going through this alone this whole time?"

"Well, not... really," they mumble. "Lupus remembers." And dusk, but they're not about to bring another variable into this mess.

He gags. "They've seen you die!?"

"Ah, no no!" He shakes his head, loosening his bandages even more. "Not really! They have a... blessing... or a curse that makes them... go catatonic when they or someone else is hurt. So they don't remember."

"That's still not good!" he yelps.

Siffrin flinches again. "I-I know."

"Change, Sif. Sorry, sorry. I just—give me a minute."

"Sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I just need to process this. I'm not gonna freak out." His voice trembles. "Okay... maybe a little, but not at you!" he cracks. "Just... haha... okay, gotta breathe." He closes his eyes and inhales. "Deep breaths, just like you do, right? Hhhaha!"

"Hhhahah, yeah, let's just... breathe." It's fine. It's fine! He's not trying to lie to you this time! You just dropped some really really really really really concerning information on him!

Deep breaths. In and out. Nice cool air in. Hot kiln air out.

"Okay," Isabeau whispers after a final, extra deep breath. "I feel—well—definitely not calm, but I think I can handle this now."

Siffrin's jaw trembles as they fight for words. "Okay," is all they manage to squeak out.

"We should probably go tell the others."

All of their hair stands on end as the cold room turns to ice, and they jolt back, ripping their hands from his and shaking their head violently. They scoot away until their back hits the pillows. "No no no nonono!"

"I know." He holds his hands up. "I know it's probably really hard, and, well, emotions are all over the place already. But this is important, Sif."

"No, no, please." They keep shifting away more—

"Ah!" Their hand slips off the edge, and they're falling, falling. Isabeau vanishes from their vision, and his image is replaced by the darkening ceiling in a blink.

"Sif!"

A hand grasps their wrist, and they jolt to a stop with a wheeze. Head spinning, they blink their vision clear to see Isabeau leaned over him, one hand white-knuckle gripping the edge of the bed.

"Got ya!" His voice trembles as he struggles with their angle. "Crab, do you want me to pull you up or lower you down?"

"Up!" they say without thinking. They glance at the floor; it's only a few inches down, but...

Don't let go.

"Hold on, gotta—" he grunts. "—reposition." He holds their arm steady as he shuffles back. Siffrin manages to snag the edge of the bed beside Isabeau's hand and start to wiggle back toward him. Once their butt's safely over the edge, Isabeau pulls their arm toward him while they curl up and collide with his chest.

They throw their free arm around him and hold on for dear life.

"Whoa, hey," Isabeau chuckles breathlessly. "You okay?"

"Mmfmpf," they nod against him, not letting go.

"Haha, happy to help," he hums. "I'll always have your back."

They're silent for a moment. "You're warm."

"Oh! I mean hah yeah I do run a bit warmer than the average human." His grip loosens on their wrist. "Um... can I—do you want a hug back?"

They nod.

His heat leaves their wrist and settles on their back next to his other hand. The chill returns and sends a shiver down their spine. He pulls them closer, flush against his chest, legs touching. The warmth of his body radiates through them.

Warm, not hot.

They sink into him, and he gives them a gentle squeeze.

"Sif?" he murmurs after a long moment.

"Mmmf."

"We really should probably talk about this," he mutters. "With the others."

They whimper.

"I know, I know, but... I can go talk to them first and tell them the basics, then come get you when they've calmed down a bit." He gives their shoulders a little squeeze. "How does that sound?"

They shake their head and hug him tighter.

Pathetic.

"Sif," he breathes. "Change, I don't know—"

"I'll come with you." They cringe as they say that. Can't back out now.

"Oh!" Isabeau clears his throat and continues in a more even, calm tone. "Thank you, Sif." He lets out a warm sigh. "Is there anything you want me to do first?"

"I don't know."

"Alright," he hums. "Oh, is there anything you want to tell me specifically before we go down?"

They nuzzle against him. "Thank you."

"Ah! For what?" His voice spikes.

"Everything."

"Aw, Sif, you don't have to thank me, especially after—well, anyway. No problemo Siffo!" he chuckles, then cuts himself off with a sniff.

There's another long silence before Isabeau finally speaks again.

"Sif, before we head down, there's something I want you to promise me."

They go rigid.

"It's okay, it's okay," he assures while rubbing their back. He takes a deep breath. "I just... want to make sure we cover all possibilities for whatever happens tomorrow."

Their fingers curl against his back, and they hug him tighter.

"Sif, promise me, please, promise me if you—" his breath catches and jaw trembles, "—If we can't defeat the Director and you—" he breathes heavily, "—die again tomorrow, promise me, you'll tell me about this again."

"But—"

"Promise me. I don't want you going through this alone. I don't care how much it hurts me to learn this again, I'll do anything to save you."

Siffrin mumbles something into Isabeau's chest.

"Huh?"

They clear their throat. "How do I know you'll believe me again?"

"Well, I believe you now, so I don't see why past me wouldn't."

"Yeah, but..." Can't go through this again. They just can't. It's too much. Too much.

They wave their hand around in a gesture that Isabeau can't even see. "All this."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do this again. No. No. No. I wouldn't—I promise you can just tell me you don't want sex. You don't even have to bring it up."

"Okay," they breathe. "But—"

He nuzzles against them. "How about this: if I don't believe you right away... hmm..." He tugs at their bandages, carefully tightening them back up. "What's something I've never told anyone before?" He hums for a moment. "Oh, I--well this is a little embarrassing to say, but I've always wanted to be a clothing designer—"

Siffrin gasps.

"—but I haven't been able to pursue that at all because of... you know... everything."

Their body seems to lighten, and they feel a fluttering within their chest.

That's it! That's it!!!

He just... freely gave it. Just like that.

... Though they really did have to go through a ton of hoops to get to this point.

"Really?" they squeak.

But it's fine! They have the answer!

"Mhm, I know it's kind of a silly dream to have with all that's going on. People need food and medicine and supplies, not cute clothes."

They can get through the kiln now! They don't have to burn!

"I think it's lovely," they respond with all too much enthusiasm.

"You do? Aww, aww, Sif." He pinches their back lightly. "I—" he coughs. "I hope it's not weird, but I've drawn you in a few outfits before, but it's kind of hard to get a vision when you're always wearing your cloak."

"Well, um... It's off now."

He snorts. "It sure is. But we have something a bit more important to do first."

They grumble.

"Sif, please."

"I know, I just..."

"I promise it'll be okay. We have M'Dame, she can probably figure all this out by herself!"

Siffrin huffs. "Yeah, maybe."

Isabeau gives them another squeeze. "We got this, Sif. We're all here for you."

"I'm—" Their throat tightens. "Okay, okay, thank you."

"Of course," he murmurs. "Are you ready to head down?"