# Three Little Words

Author: DarkSoulsSauron
Tags: Psychological, ninetales, pokemon


Soren
and Eli were sharing the loft together. It was Friday night, but
neither of them felt like going out tonight. They rarely did. They
tended to spend most of their nights in unless they had plans with
friends. The winter sun was setting and mostly below the horizon,
bathing them in mellow gold light.
Soren
was back on his dubstep project, this time working with Vexare's
Rattlesnakes song. This one was easier than Chase Me, but he
was having a hard time finding an instrument that would hit the
butterzone of keeping true to its hard tech roots yet still be
accessible to the people who hated electronic music on principle. The
string bass was the most promising right now, but he just couldn't
get it right. After many repetitions of the song, he returned the
beloved instrument to its case.
Soren
was done with music for now. That pet project was giving him a lot of
grief, and he knew now was the time to put it down. He grabbed a
stool and sat behind Eli, wrapping his silver arms around his waist
and resting his muzzle in the crook between Eli's right shoulder and
neck. Soren made sure to leave his painting arm plenty of room to
maneuver.
"Hi
sweetie," said Eli as he worked, resting his head briefly on top
of Soren's in greeting. "Putting your project down for a while?
I'd be glad to help you when I'm done."
"That'd
be nice," said Soren, "Sometimes you just need to distance
yourself for a bit before going back to a project." Soren felt
Eli nod in agreement. Soren sat there contentedly, watching Eli weave
wonders with paint. This was another color study, mixing all
different shades or reds and blues. Scarlet, ruby, vermillion, and
prominent crimson tones were on the left side of the canvas. the
right side was covered with sapphire, cobalt, azure, and an
emphasized sky-blue. the colors mixed together in the very middle to
create a vibrant purple that faded to white at the center.
Soren
marveled how the different shading techniques within the vortexes of
color, creating subtle shapes within the subconscious. Soren saw an
eagle in flight, a serpentine eastern dragon, and two figures in the
middle. they were tall, vulpine, and cloaked in what looked like
long, flowing tails. he pointed at the very center, where he saw the
two silhouettes , skirting the edges of the colors just before they
began to mix into the purple at the center.
"Is
that... us?" asked Soren. Eli nodded and smiled. Soren kissed
Eli on the cheek. "I love the way you paint Eli."
"I
just love you."

Soren
felt an electric jolt surge up his body. It was a jolt of fear,
trepidation, and surprise. Those words... did Eli just say what he
thought he said. Soren was spiraling, his brain foggy and his ears
filled with a buzzing noise, like a thousand angry bees. He just had
no way to keep thoughts coherent in his head. After a moment that
felt like years, he squeezed Eli around the waist and said. "Thanks.
I'm gonna make dinner, ok?"


Eli
nodded without a word, and Soren got up and walked down the loft
stairs, trying not to rush. His brain was still cloudy and unfocused,
and he nearly tripped down the stairs as he hurried to the kitchen.
Sticking his head in the cool fridge, he tried to find his
rationality amongst the ingredients for stir fry he was fishing out.


It
wasn't till he had Jeanne's chef knife in his hands as he chopped
onions did he finally manage to mold a thought into coherent words.
"He said it," thought Soren. "He said those three
little words. Why am I frightened by that?" It made no sense.
What made committing so terrifying? Wasn't he happy here? When they
moved in together, back in his dingy apartment in Cavalier, wasn't it
nice even then? To share space. Meals. Time. A bed... He was
happy.


"When
was the last time I was happy," thought Soren as he continued
to slice vegetables. He wasn't happy in college. He was putting his
nose to the grinder to keep that scholarship, not to mention that he
could never get past the first date with anyone there. Not after
college. His family's determination to "fix" him put a real
damper on things, plus he was scrambling around trying to get off
Aly's couch. Even after that he was depressed, alone, and barely
scraping by, both financially and mentally. High school was the only
time Soren came close. Back when Grandma Jeanne was alive. He was
learning so much: cooking, music, a new love for science... but when
she died, he had no one but Sasha really. No one who could rescue him
from his family's inane drama. Dating Milo was wonderful. He might
have been willing to say those three little words himself, but that
constantly looming threat of being discovered... it really stopped
them from feeling truly ready to commit.

So
here he was, in Eli's fantastic downtown condo. He was happy,
content, and now mortally terrified. "Why am I afraid?" these
words were said aloud, as though his cutting board could provide an
adequate explanation to his worries.

A
voice answered. Soren knew that voice, and he detested it. It was
snide, condescending, cruel, and spiteful. It was a voice that had
been inside him as long as he could remember. "It's because you
know Eli is too good for you. Look at you. All you do is take from
Eli. You're not afraid of him. You know you can't return all the
deeds that Eli has done for you. You're not afraid of Eli. You're
afraid of you. And you should be."


Soren
shook his head, trying desperately to shake off this unwelcome
visitor inside his head. That voice hadn't come to call in a long
time, and Soren wanted it to stay that way. The voice continued in a
gleeful whisper. "Look where you live. A penthouse in Kansas City.
When could you ever afford that? You're a lab slave, paid slave
wages. Without Eli you'd be back in Cavalier, in that grungy town
home, infested with vermin. You'd be right at home too..."


Soren
began to chop faster, reducing a carrot to rings in seconds,
desperately trying to fill the headspace that hosted that voice with
something, anything else. It was building up steam now, and Soren
couldn't stop it. "But you don't care, do you? You want to be a lab
slave, to keep your hands on the experiments. You don't wanna climb
up to get shoved into a desk job. Noooo... you know you can get away
with it now. You don't need to advance now that you're living with
Eli. Face it. You're just a parasite.


Shaking
his head harder, Soren tried to focus on what he was cooking. It was
Jeanne's best meatloaf recipe. It was one of Eli's favorites. He
chopped harder and harder, leaving gashes in the wooden cutting
board. The voice laughed. "FOOD?! You think that cooking can make
up for all this extravagance around you? Eli could eat out three
times a day without blinking an eye. He's just humoring you. Do you
think you can compete with all the restaurants in this city? You've
really let your head swell up, haven't you?"

Soren
drove a knife deep into a squash he was carving, breathing hard and
fast. He tried to think of anything to shut out that voice, but he
was too slow. It had him now. He slunk down onto the kitchen floor,
his forehead pressed against a lower cabinet. He tried to think of
any happy thought. "But his whole family loved my Thanksgiving
stuff. That has to be something."

The
voice was gleeful now. "Right. HIS whole family. The Vatras. Three,
kind, loving family members who accepted you without hesitation. Lyra
and Logan treated you like you were their own son."


Soren
pounded his fist onto the floor. "Isn't that a good thing, you
shitty little gremlin?!"

The
voice was almost incoherent with glee now. "Reduced to name
calling? What are you, ten? No... you're an adult. And you're right.
It was a good thing. But what can YOU do? Nothing. Your parents hate
you. Your brother hates you. Your whole damn family hates you."


"What
about Aly?"

"What
about her," asked the voice, "All you've done for her is be a
burden. You lived on her couch for six months while you got your shit
together. Barely. And all that did was make your family angry at her
as well as you. You will never give the gift of a family back to Eli.
You just want to use the Vatras as surrogates. A cheap imitation of a
real flesh and blood family."


Soren
was rocking back and forth now, fighting with himself. He gripped the
fur on his arms so hard that it was on the verge of being torn out,
causing surges of sharp needle-pain to run up and down his limbs.
Soren hoped the pain might drive out that voice inside him. He
squeezed his eyes shut and felt wetness behind his lids. All of this
was just more kindling for that voice. "Going to cry? How
juvenile," it sneered. "Perhaps you should go find Eli. He's a
good shoulder to cry on. You've done that plenty of times. He was
always there for you to vent on. He was always willing to listen to
whatever trivial shit was plaguing your life at the moment. You sure
took advantage of that, dumping all your problems on his shoulders."

Soren
covered his eyes with the palms of his hands, his fingers gripping
into his lengthening blue bangs, tearing at the hair just with as
much intensity that he had used on his arms. He felt tears leaking
behind his palms. He bit one of his silver tails to prevent himself
from crying out, as well as to attempt to drive away that voice with
sharp pain as he drew blood. "Has Eli ever asked you to be his
vent? No... he can solve his own problems. He's actually competent.
No... all you can do is complain. Eli is the one who tells you what
to do."


Soren
bit down again. He knew it would be no good, but he tried anyway. The
voice snickered as he saw Soren hurting himself in a vain attempt to
drive away something that was intrinsically part of himself. "And
you can't even vent to him properly. You think you can deal with your
own problems without help. You just bottle it up, waiting for it to
explode. And you do explode, only to attack the only person who could
actually help you.


"That
only happened once, dammit."

"So
you're a name calling crybaby who can't even count? Whenever
Eli tries to help, you push and push him away. You're just kidding
yourself again. You think you can solve your own problems. You can't.
You always relied on someone else. Aly, Jeanne, Sasha... and now Eli.
But you kept telling yourself you could do it alone. But then you'd
just fuck up time and again and attack the only people who could have
saved your sorry ass. And you never learn. You're just one sad and
sorry fuck up."
Soren
was now helpless against his own brain. The malicious voice was
running circles around his head, driving home every point. "You're
just a parasite. In every damn way. All you do is take. You take
money out of his pocket. You take the love of a family that isn't
even yours. And what do you give back? Stress, mundane problems, and
tantrums whenever ANYONE tries to get your sorry ass out of the shit
pile it's in."


A
different voice began to speak. This voice was a rare visitor inside
Soren's head, but it was a more welcome one than the cold voice that
was currently taking the stage. This voice was warmer, softer, and
came with a smile just like Eli's. "Did he ever care?"


The
two voices were going back and forth now. Soren no longer had his
eyes shut nor was he biting his tail. He sat stock still as his
psyche waged war with itself. The cold voice fired the first shot.
"You can't deny that Soren's a dirty freeloader."


"Soren
was living with Eli before they moved here. Back in that grubby old
apartment. Eli had no idea if his next auctions would be as good as
his first. Better than his first. They didn't move here till Eli felt
he could sustain himself."


"But
Eli pays for everything."

"He
doesn't care. Having Soren cook for him was always enough for Eli."


"Eli
could eat better food than this for the rest of his life without
giving up anything. He has more money than he knows what to do with.
He could buy a house in cash."


"But
Eli is happy here. he doesn't want to do those things. He doesn't
care." there was a pause as the cold voice scrambled to change the
topic.


"What
about his family? The Sauls would never accept Eli like the Vatras
did for him."


"Eli
knows that. He thinks the Sauls are terrible people for how they
treat their son. He doesn't want their affection if they think he's
broken for being gay."

"The
Vatras are too good to him. Soren and Eli were dating for less than
six months at Thanksgiving. They treated Soren like a son. All he
really was was a casual date."


"Did
anyone care? They were all eager to meet Soren. They all liked him."
Another pause.


"You
still can't deny that Soren's a dependent fool. He can't pick out his
own shirt without asking Eli for help."


"That's
why they started living together. Eli said it himself. 'Isn't
that why we are living together? Didn't we do that so we could love
and help each other?'"

"You
seem to be forgetting about Soren's terrible temper. Eli sure has
taken a lot of shit because Soren's deluded himself into thinking
he's independent."

The
warm voice now raised its volume, speaking not with petty rage but
righteous fury. "And Eli has never cared about that."


The
two fractures of Soren's psyche began circling each other, like lions
sizing each other up before a fight. Soren wasn't even able to
process the whole argument anymore. He heard words flash through his
mind, sometimes in the condescending voice, sometimes in the warm
voice.


The
two parts of himself waged a furious war for what felt like hours.
Soren was beyond being able to comprehend it. He curled into a ball
and watched as his own brain spiraled into confusion, no longer able
to stay in control. All he could do was watch the clock move forward,
agonizingly slow. After almost an hour passed, Soren managed to reach
a state of partial coherency. He heard the two voices more clearly as
they continued to clash.


"Parasite!
Deluded! Incompetent!" The snide voice was reduced to shouting, no
longer forming coherent arguments."

"He
never cared, you fool. Eli never cared about Soren's faults. He only
cared about..."

"...Me,"
said Soren, finishing the statement aloud. The voices waging war in
his head vanished, leaving echos of the battle ringing inside his own
brain.


Soren
stood up, his legs shaking a little. He took the knife out of the
squash and cleaned it on a rag. He gripped the flawless blade and
held it up to his face, looking at himself in the reflection of the
thick, sharp blade. He traced his thumb across the keen edge, putting
pressure on the cutting edge but not pushing hard enough that he
would be cut. It had been at least twelve years since he had cut
himself with a kitchen knife.


Staring
at himself through the glint of the aged knife, he saw his eyes were
red. No surprises there. His blue hair was haphazardly spiked after
he had torn at it, and his whole face looked drawn and almost gaunt
after that war with himself. It had been ages since he had an episode
like that. He had childishly hoped for a while now that the terrible
voice wouldn't come back this time.


He
straightened his hair and got a coke from the fridge. A long gulp and
shake of his head suppressed most of the mental exhaustion, but he
still felt drained. He finished the meatloaf automatically, throwing
it into the oven, his legs and arms shaking the whole time.

After
he set the timer, Soren slowly made his way to the couch. He turned
on the iHome and felt a wave of calm wash over him as he selected his
violin playlist. A wave of calm washed over him, the music slow,
melodic, and filled with memories. Many of these songs were songs he
learned to play himself.


Soren
covered his eyes with his palms and let the tears leak out, his brain
still echoing with the words of both voices. He went through another
coke and many glasses of ice water. He felt blood pounding past his
ears, and was suddenly conscious of how hard and fast he was
breathing. He ached all over from tight of a ball he had curled into,
and two of his tails were stained red.


Soren
watched the timer count down. At five minutes left to go, he got up,
still shaking and went to the sink to wipe his tails free of blood.
Splashing his face with a bit of water, he went to take the food out
of the oven and let it cool a bit. He inspected his reflection in the
blade again, and he looked mostly normal. Mostly.


Soren
made his way slowly to the loft stairs, only to meet Eli walking down
the last few steps, a shirt free of paint looped over his right arm.
Soren forced himself to smile. "I was going to call you for dinner,
but you beat me to it."


"I
heard the buzzer," said Eli. "I just needed to finish a small
portion of that project anyway." The two foxes lingered there
awkwardly. Eli absently took off the paint covered shirt and hooked
it on the railing. "Did you forget something in the loft? Want me
to grab it for you."


Soren
shook his head. "No. I just forgot to do something up there." The
silver fox stepped forward and wrapped Eli in his powerful arms. "I
forgot to say 'I love you, too.'" They kissed each other. It was
reminiscent of their first kiss. But this one was even sweeter. It
wasn't born from drunken recklessness. This kiss was deliberate,
premeditated, and even more passionate.


Dinner
was forgotten. They moved to the couch and collapsed on it. They held
each other with intense strength, as though they could become one
being if they gripped hard enough. Soren felt the wounds inflicted by
that cold, snide voice wash away as he held Eli. Soren kissed Eli
again, breaking apart after what felt like sweet and blissful eons.
"Eli, thank you... for being here."


Eli
stroked Soren's silver face, looking confused and slightly amused.
"You never need to thank me for that. It's no big deal."


Soren
buried his face in Eli's arms. "You have no idea, sweetie."


Eli's
look of confusion remained. "Soren... are you all right? You really
freaked out upstairs."



Soren
was reluctant to provide the whole answer, still scared from the war
his psyche had waged with itself, sparked so unintentionally by Eli.
"Well... I just sorta panicked. I kinda flashed back to when I was
with Milo. Being with him felt so... good. Especially after Grandma
Jeanne died. For a long time I wanted to say those three little words
to Milo. I really did care for him. But... well you know where we
were. What our families were like. I was afraid to say it out loud
only to watch it fall apart... like it did."



Eli
hugged Soren. "But that's not all, is it." Soren bit his tongue
inside his mouth and waited. After ten long seconds, Eli spoke again.
"That was a statement, dear. Not a question."



Soren
buried his face further into Eli's embrace. His voice drifted out
between Eli's strong arms, muffled and quivering by a minute
fraction. "I'm... afraid. I'm afraid that I'm just a burden to
you."



Eli
sighed and held Soren closer to him. "Soren, please. You know I've
never thought that. I will never think that."


Soren
felt tears of shame leaking past his eyes. "but I am. And whatever
I do, I'm going to keep trying to hide my problems from you and then
push you away when you try to help. I can't stop hurting you, and
I've tried and tried to stop, but something's going to end up making
me explode."


Eli
extracted Soren from himself and wiped his blue eyes with a gentle
hand. "Did you hear me upstairs? I love you. I love all
of
you. Even the bad parts. There are no caveats in those words."



Soren
kissed Eli, breaking apart only after they ran out of breath. "I
love you too, Eli. That's why I'm so scared. I'm afraid I'll hurt
you."


"Nobody's
perfect," said Eli. "Stop trying to be. You don't give yourself
enough credit."



Soren
hugged Eli tightly. "You are."


Eli
jumped a little, but continued to stroke Soren's face. "But I don't
care about being perfect. Us loving each other is enough for me. We
can do this together." Soren closed his eyes at Eli's soft touch.
After a long time, he nodded his head in assent. Soren felt Eli lay
his head onto his chest, and together they drifted into nothingness.

Source: https://sofurry.com/view/577979