#shrivo

You visibly jump, nearly dropping the palmhusk in your hand. You turn around to see Shrivo standing there, arms folded across his big chest. He was certainly not happy, with a look that could kill. In fact, you wanted it to kill. 

“Shrivo, I-” 

“Not to mention, she’s a tailor. So obviously she doesn’t have money. She thinks you’re going to pay her way. You know this, Adison, we’ve had this very conversation before. You lied, you told her you had money, didn’t you?”

“I didn-”

“You could do so much better, Adison. You know this. I can’t believe I have to tell you this again. You need someone who isn’t a lowblood, who has done more with their life than just be a measly tailor.” Shrivo steps closer, but you remain frozen. He did this every time, and it didn’t get any less scary. 

“Shrivo, I nee-”

“No, you don’t ‘need’ anything, you ‘need’ to leave her. I can see it in the way she speaks, she’s full of herself. She’s just using you. The polite ones are the ones you have to worry about, they’re never honest.” 

Is that true? What does that say about Nutmeg? Are you even certain you believe what he’s saying? “But Bruuno-” 

“Oh, do NOT bring that oaf into this. Does she know him? And That makes you reassured? Have you seen the other trolls he hands around, Adison? None of them are worth the clothes on their back and her knowing him makes a lot of sense. She probably tried to weasel him out of what cash he has too, hm?” 

“She wou-” 

“She Would, Adison, are you even listening to me? Is there anything going on in there? Hello?” Shrivo waved a hand in front of your face, causing you to flinch. 

“Did you seriously just flinch? Do you honestly think I’m going to hurt you?” 

Well, yes, because you have. But you don’t say that out loud. 

“See, she’s already getting to you. She’s made you think I’d hurt you. You know I don’t hurt you. I do what I have to. What else has she led you to believe? What other lies? What have you lied about?” 

“Noth-” 

“Bullshit, Adison. Fucking bullshit.” 

His words cut through you like a knife. It was always like this. You stood here and just let him yell at you, as if him yelling would do anything but make you upset. At the end of the day, you’d hide in Nutmeg’s block so he wouldn’t slip into your block and try to apologize, or worse. For some reason, though, this just felt different.

You were holding on so tight to the thought of Bruuno. Why Bruuno, of all trolls? He was Abanny’s moirail, and he wouldn’t date someone who was as horrible as Shrivo was saying. You had a thread to hang onto. As Shrivo went on, you zoned him out and focused on that. If Bruuno could trust Abanny, then you could too. 

“-see that, Adison? Are you blind? You’ve done this so frequently. I’m surprised you actually let me meet her this time and for that I’m grateful because I could see how horrible she is for you. If you ever list-” 

“Shrivo.” Your voice is firm, and this surprises him enough to actually make him stop talking, “I don’t want to hear it.” 

“I’m sorry?” Shrivo blinked and raised his brows, “Are you talking back to me?” 

“I’m going to take a shower, and go to bed, because I’m going to have a good day with Abanny tomorrow. Then I’ll see her off and that’ll be it. End of story.” You explain this with an eerie sense of ease. The lie rolls off your tongue so easily. Abanny wasn’t horrible, you knew this. Nobody horrible would make you feel so safe. 

Shrivo was silent for what felt like eternity. Then, he backs off with a nod. 

“Good.” 

You don’t say another word. Instead, you brush past him and head directly to your block. You pause slightly at the door. Your gaze is fixated on the missing door knob. It was removed so long ago, and you had always been told it was for the better. But Abanny had noticed it, and even thought it was weird. This is a thought battle for another time. 

Nutmeg was seated on her couch. Her side of the hive was so relaxing, everything was a soft pink. Little potted flowers were scattered around. Even the light from the television was soft, dulled by the light peaking in from the windows. She turned her head towards the door as Adison silently wandered in. 

“Was it bad this time?” Her voice was sweet, sugary. She inched over to make room for Adison on the couch, and gently patted the spot next to her. 

He nodded as a response. He didn’t necessarily want to talk about it. He first sat next to her, then leaned over so his head rested on in her lap. She gently set her hand on his head. The soft sounds of Troll Bob Ross playing on the television helped him relax. It lulled him to sleep, for the time being. 

He was rather rudely woken up by being lifted. But only a little. He was lifted enough so Nutmeg could get up, and Shrivo could take her place. Adison was an expert at pretending to be asleep. His fin twitched once, but his eyes stayed closed. He counted his breathing to distract himself from the overwhelming smell of Shrivo. In, two three four.....out, two three four.......in, two three four.....out, two- 

Adison’s eyes snapped open when Shrivo started to toy with his hair. 

“You need a haircut.” Shrivo’s voice was soft. It wasn’t unusual for him to be yelling one moment, then be as soft as a mouse the next. That didn’t make it any less jarring. 

“I like my hair.” Adison traced the lace in Shrivo’s shirt with his eyes. He refused to look up or move, not just yet. Despite the fact that he had just been scolded for something he couldn’t remember, Adison was not going to give up his hair. He expected another argument, or Shrivo refusing to allow him. He expected something along the lines of ‘you don’t really know what you want.’ 

“Okay, that’s fine.” For some reason, that wasn’t any better.