That explains the fragile masculinity

This is wrong

Jax was in his room for the night. His floors were a fuzzy purple carpet, his walls a somewhat muted magenta, his bed was a twin bed covered in blankets and a veil that almost made it look like a cave of some sort. Like a burrow. He had a wall of keys and another of K-pop posters. Jax was currently stood in front of his mirror however. A full body mirror with random stickers on the edges, the frame a regular wood. The bottom of the mirror was cracked, fragile and visibly broken, not enough for any shards to fall out though. He was looking into the mirror, at his stupid bunny body.

He took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around his torso uncomfortably. This was routine by now. He never seemed to get used to being in this body, he had that problem before the circus too, but when Zooble had come out it only ramped up. He shivered, letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in. He felt... trapped. Jax creeped over to his bed, plopping down on the edge, eyeing the mirror across the room. Jax ran a hand over his ears, trying to shake off the nagging sense of discontent that had burrowed into his chest and made a home there. The quiet of the room felt stifling, making it all too easy for this thoughts to run wild. He tried to focus on anything else, but his mind kept circling back to to the same question: why did his own skin feel increasingly like a cage he couldn't escape? It felt like wearing a itchy sweater that you couldn't take off, except it was himself.

Jax swallowed thickly. He groaned and fell back against his bed, brushing passed the veil and straight onto the weighted comforter below. "Ughhh." He put his hand or...glove onto his face, pulling down at the skin and fur. "What is wrong with me?" He questioned aloud. Jax's mind lingered back to the softball adventure or whatever. To the dress, the sensation of fabric against his skin, the way changed how his body looked due to its shape. It was all so strange and foreign, and yet- he had been unable to deny the subtle flicker of something new. He had loathed the dress, but in its feminine silhouette, he had caught a glimpse of fluidity he had never allowed himself to even consider before. It had felt...liberating, in its own terrifying way.

He hugged a pillow next to him tightly, turning onto his side, pushing the pillow against his torso. He had never always been comfortable with his lean, lanky figure, but the soft, flowing fabric of the maid dress had presented an unexpected alternative he didn't want to think of. It challenged the rigid notions of himself, of his masculine image he had fought to maintain his entire life. Jax clenched his jaw, shoving his face into his pillow, trying to lull himself to sleep. His thoughts only spiraled as he clutched the pillow. He despised the notion of the thought of himself as anything feminine, the very thought stirring a deep aversion within him. The possibility of something beyond male, yet not female, was like a specter haunting his thoughts. It beckoned with its enigmatic foundation of his understanding of himself. "#$%^ you Gangle and Zooble." He mumbled tiredly, closing his eyes.

Minutes passed, and Jax's breathing slowed, the rhythm of his thoughts gradually quieting as sleep started to claim him. The grip he had on the pillow loosened, and his body relaxed into a more natural state. Yet, even as he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, a single thought lingered, like a whisper from the depths of his subconscious "What if..."

Jax groaned, blinking his eyes open as a loud rooster sound flowed through the circus to signify morning. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes with his gloves. Jax sighed as he stood up, stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a yawn. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few moments before walking over to the full length mirror, looking himself over. Jax ran a hand down over his cheek, tracing a finger down where a nose should be and pulling lightly at his bunny ears. He frowned as he stared at his reflection. That familiar feeling of discontent from last night began to creep up on him again. He ran his hand through his fur. He headed over to a closet, opening the doors.