alyssa
I don't know how or where Elliot learned to kiss like that, but oh my lord. I cannot.
I can't explain it, but it just feels like we both know what we're doing with each other. The ease we share is something far beyond what Max and I had. Like, literal light years beyond it. Sometimes, it feels like I'm not supposed to be doing anything else, like Elliot and I were designed to work this well together.
Two weeks pass, and we settle into this really steady rhythm of work, Bader, then makeout. We hardly ever hang out at Elliot's house; we're always in my bed or on the couch at least an hour after work. She hasn't met my dad yet, and I haven't met her parents, but it's probably fine. I know she's not out at home, and I don't know exactly how she would phrase me. Biz Markie says "just a friend" is bull, and I really don't want her to be uncomfortable. I just want her to be happy.
Tanner doesn't say much of Elliot to Dad. I think it's because Jace has been spending just as much time—if not more so—at our house. Recently, though, it seems like they've migrated a bit more to Jace's house, which is fine by me.
Elliot all to myself? Yes, please.
I know I'm stupid for thinking this magical privacy we have is going to last forever. Eventually, the bubble has to burst. For now, though, I'm fine with just me and her together, with the rest of the world locked away outside.
I love the way she runs her fingers through my hair. I love the way she smiles at me between kisses, the corners of her eyes all crinkled. I love the way she always pays the utmost attention to whatever task she's given herself. And I love the way she asks.
With Max, it sometimes felt like something just for them. I didn't really realize it till Elliot started being so ... attentive. She always asks before she tries something new, and she constantly checks in with me, like she was just born knowing that I apparently really like to feel like I have a say in what's going on. Max just did whatever they wanted, and it was usually okay, but with Elliot, it's all been okay.
I want to ask her to sleep over. I don't know how she'd feel about it.
After the first time we madeout in my room and she kinda freaked a little, I don't want her to feel like I'm pushing her or anything. We haven't even broached the subject of sex, which is more than fine. I'm not exactly eager to sleep with anyone, even Elliot—I mean, the last time I stripped down, I grew a tail. I don't need that again. I can't handle Elliot becoming a Max.
Which is dumb. I know it's dumb. I know Elliot wouldn't be a Max, because Elliot has already seen the tail and was chill about it. But I don't need to scar her mentally or anything. I refuse to be responsible for that.
It's hard to keep my hands off her, though. We keep being terrible workers and finding ways to touch, to sneak in little affections where we're sure no one will see. When Elliot picks me up for work every morning, we hold hands. When we sit at the counter waiting for nonexistent customers, we hold hands. And when everyone has left, we makeout in the breakroom, then rush to let out Bader so that we can make out some more.
"You're too tall," I mutter as Elliot trails her lips down the side of my neck. She's got me propped up on her kitchen counter. She played this whole game of "I don't work out" and then suddenly lifted me onto the countertop as if I'm light as a feather.
Her lips head back toward my jaw. "You're too short," she whispers, and I try not to shudder. My hold on the back of her head and her shoulders tightens. Fuck. I don't even know if she realizes that this spot of my neck is so sensitive, but it freaking is and she keeps kissing it and I am going to explode.
"Why are you so amazing?" she asks just as quietly, then plants pleasantly light pecks along my jawline.
I want to respond, but I don't have the brain power to form words, so I just end up giggling quietly and clutching her harder. I love Elliot's intimate voice. It's quiet and raspy, soft and hard-edged all at once. It drives me absolutely crazy.
After a minute, she pulls away and helps me down from the counter. I'm dizzy. Literally, dizzy. She helps steady me on my feet, and I can tell she's quietly proud of how unsteady I am. I just work on catching my breath and trying to glare at her as best I can through the stupid smile she's got plastered to my stupid face. When she lightly pecks my forehead, though, I swat her away with that stupid big smile and work solely on catching my breath.
She lets my hands go and goes to let Bader in while I lean against the counter. Every day, she lifts him up the stairs like it's no issue. I don't get it. Like, I am plenty strong, but Bader is plenty obese. I would probably snap in half or something. Elliot, on the other hand, just strolls in like "Oh wow a fuzzy piece of paper" and places Bader wherever Bader needs to be.
"What are you staring at?" Elliot asks, smiling as she straightens herself.
"You," I tell her.
She adjusts one of the sleeves of her flannel. "Better me than Bader, I suppose."
"Grosssss."
"It would be gross, yes."
I love that she can't seem to not touch me. It's not something that I ever thought I would love, but really, I love everything about Elliot. She walks over to me and grabs my hips, tugging me into her and craning down nearly a foot to press her lips to mine.
This. I can't believe I didn't always have this.
-
We've fallen down a Jackie Chan rabbit hole. Elliot made some reference I didn't quite understand (which happens a lot; this time, it was something about food trucks and waiters on wheels). Now, we're all the way to The Immigrant and some very serious talk with Pierce Brosnan. She knows this scene word for word, and gosh, is it cute.
"You need to watch more Jackie Chan movies," she says. "I loooove Jackie Chan movies."
"Okay," I promise.
"Okay."
It's nice just cuddling with her. Elliot does this thing where she'll press little kisses against my forehead, and I'm sorry, but it's too cute. I can't.
After half an hour or so, she rolls over to press kisses against my bare shoulder. I thought the tank top was a good idea, even though it's such a lightweight fabric that it keeps riding up on my stomach. Suddenly, Elliot places a hand at the hem of the already-risen shirt, and I suck in a breath.
Our eyes meet. "Can I?" Elliot asks.
"Yes." It's barely a whisper.
We've been fooling around—I don't know what else I would call it—for almost three weeks now, but shirts haven't come off yet. Elliot is crazy gentle as she takes off, and then, when her hands find the back of my bra, I just nod.
My room feels hotter and colder all at the same time. "You're beautiful," Elliot whispers to me in this way that no one could possibly fake, ever. I can't handle it.
I end up giving her a few pointers, but she takes charge pretty well, following her own invisible guidelines. Elliot is completely new at this, but she's already better than Max was. Just, fuck. How? No one can be this good their first time. That can't be a thing.
I guess she's a contradiction to logic. I'm not complaining.
It's kind of awkward to stop at this point, but I totally get that Elliot probably doesn't want to go any farther. Since we haven't talked about it, I certainly don't feel like just jumping right in. I want to know how she feels about things before we just ... jump in blind.
She says something to me, but I don't hear it.
My legs have started tingling.
"Alyssa?" she asks. "What's wrong?"
"Get out," I hiss between grit teeth.
"Alyssa? Are you—"
"Please, please—get out." Get out, so I can take my pants off and cry.
She bites her lip and scrambles out of my bed, tugging at her own hair slightly and staring at me with this concerned face that makes me feel sick. "Do you—"
"Just go, okay?" It sounds too strangled.
She shuts the door gently behind her.
It's a race to strip down before I completely lose control over my legs. Towards the end of the struggle, I have to rely completely on my hands to get my shorts and panties off. The waiting is always the worst part. Maybe I won't sprout a tail, but I can't be too careful. The anticipation of finding out whether it's just a random spaz moment or a legitimate attack is terrible. And the wait? It could take hours.
The tears are coming regardless. My body aches and tingles right now, but it's nothing as bad as what I know it will be if I do fish out. I hate this. I hate this so, so much.
I hear the front door shut, and I let myself sob.
The tail does come. It tears through my skin and feels raw and on fire and ice cold all at once, and sends a terrible aching up my spine that leaves me with an immediate headache and has my limbs completely frozen. I'm glad I covered myself up right as it grew, because I didn't have the strength to put my shirt or bra back on.
I feel myself slip away before it even retracts.
-
"Alyssa," says Max. Their hands are soft on my wrists, and for whatever reason, they smell like peaches. "Where did you go?"
"I had to leave," I hear myself say, even though it doesn't actually sound like me. I can't pinpoint the voice, but it's so familiar that I feel like I should be able to stick a name to it.
Max kisses my fingers. Soft. Everything feels so soft. "Why did you push me away?"
"You pushed me away. You couldn't handle all of this. All of my bullshit."
"But I love you?" they say, like it's a question.
"I had to leave," I say again.
"You pushed me away."
"It's for the best. I need to go. It'll be better for you when I'm gone."
"Mandy. Alyssa and Tanner need you," says Max, strained, and sounding a lot less like Max.
"You'll be better off without me."
"Alyssa."
And then I'm blinking my eyes open, and this chill shoots through my heart. "Mom?"
Elliot is crouched at my bedside, holding a giant paper Cumm-n-Gitt bag. "It's me. Elliot. Are you okay?"
"Maybe?" I try and raise myself up, and it hurts, but I'm at least able to scooch back against my headboard and sit. The blanket falls, revealing my bare chest, and I look away from her. "Sorry."
Elliot doesn't falter. "You're fine. I got you some ice cream, if you're interested."
"Ice cream?" The front door shutting echoes in my head. Right. She left. "What ... what kind?"
She grins. "Peaches and onion," she says, holding up the bag. "Also, they had carrot and strawberry, which I thought sounded very chill. I feel like all ice cream is inherently chill, but carrot and strawberry sounds inherently chiller."
"Thank you," I whisper. My throat is sore. Maybe from crying. Maybe coincidentally. "For real."
"Of course." She stands and sets the bag down, then crosses to the end of the bed to grab my stray bra and tank top. "Do you want me to help you back into these?"
I want to say yes, and I want to say no. The idea of being bare and vulnerable right now—completely stark ass bare-as-fuck naked beneath these covers—doesn't sound great, but I also feel like there's nothing more vulnerable than having your girlfriend dress you.
"It's kinda my responsibility," she adds. "I mean, I took them off. I totally owe you a dress-up after a dress-down. As fun as the dress-down was."
I hesitate. I've never been dressed before. Still, I can't avoid it. I'd rather Elliot dress me from the waist up than awkwardly sit around Elliot with no clothes on and be unable to do anything about it. "Sure. Um, thank you."
"Of course," she says.
It's a slow process. She tries to go a little too fast at some points, and I hate that I have to cry out in warning. She goes further than just clothes, though, propping up pillows to make me more comfortable.
"Are you naked under there?" she asks. "If you want, I can find some pants and help you into them. I won't look. I swear."
"You're good," I tell her. I can't imagine myself letting her go that far with this.
"Okay." She tries to smirk, and ends up just grinning instead. Elliot doesn't have the capability to smirk.
"Now go get spoons, you Goliath."
"Heheh, Imma eat this ice cream like I'm 'boutta get stoned."
"Really."
A/N - ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh look at them, doing them things. What do we think of Elliot and Alyssa's relationship???
Only seven more chapters till the end!!! I miiiight push back that climax a bit with some bonus content... We shall see ;) Just know that, the next time we hit a read count mark (like 25K, 30K, etc.), you guys will get to see a snippet of the original draft I never uploaded. (It's ... it's weird tbh.)
But YES, I hope you guys are enjoying this! If you're looking for more queer shtuff to read, here are some authors I would veeery much recommend:
writing00introvert -- ccreator -- Riggles101 -- apocalyptysm -- arodynamics -- ccstarfield -- _Vitecro_
Have a great week!
UPDATE (August 13 2021): it's 10 chapters to the end now ;)))