day three: that was not my intention.

vôgiá curled up on the loveseat in the living area of xer house, a mug of tea and a book she’d barely started resided on the nearby side table. though she’d just barely woken up, she could easily go back to sleep, and it was such a tempting idea. but these moments of solitude were few and are between lately, and vôgiá was determined to use them.

xe heaved a sigh and reached over for xer mug to sip from as she ruminated on the way things had been going. where vôgiá had looked forward to cyra’s frequent visits early in their relationship, now xe found xemself dreading them. the visits had quickly become nothing more than an emotional vent session for cyra, with vôgiá listening and playing the supportive partner act.

vôgiá cared- xe truly did- but the visits almost.. were nothing more than venting sessions and cyra dominated them. deep down vôgiá knew that wasn’t entirely all the djinn’s fault though, as she rarely (if ever) brought up her own emotional needs.

vôgiá was a known hardass- she and cyra were similar in that neither were overly popular in the personality department. more than once they’d shared stories of being downright bastards to others, after all. but something about cyra had softened vôgiá, and the djinn quickly wormed their way into her heart and life. but the bitterness festering inside vôgiá was swiftly bricking that soft spot up, and vôgiá didn’t know how much more she could take. she’d have to bring it up with the other.

“right. bring it up with cyra. might as well create a world friendship committee, it’d be just as likely to happen,” she scoffed to herself as she set the now empty mug down. she picked up the book and was about to settle into it to try and get further into it when the faintest sound caught her attention.

the turning of a doorknob.

“vôgiá? you home? i know i left just last night, but i couldn’t stay another minute. do you mind if i stay the night?”

cyra.

cyra was here.

cyra was here, again.

the djinn had made xer way into the living room and was crossing over to sit by vôgiá, and vôgiá resigned herself to another another day serving as little more than a venting post. cyra’s voice faded easily into the background as vôgiá zoned out, already tired out of the interaction. truthfully, xe felt a bit guilty, but it was the only way lately vôgiá could tolerate these interactions.

she missed the days of being assholes to others together.

“-even listening?”

a flick to the leg brought vôgiá back to reality, and vôgiá realized cyra was staring at her with a face of frustration and disappointment.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to. just woke up, still tired,” vôgiá lied. a small part of her wanted to instead say “no, i’m not listening. i’m tired of you constantly complaining to me, and never asking if i need anything.” but vôgiá stuffed that part back down a little bit.

“oh, soooo sorry. i’ll just go back so you can get back to your precious sleep,” cyra replied with a scowl sarcastically.

“it’s fine cyra-” “no! no, don’t worry about it. not like it sucks or anything, and it makes me miserable. hate for you to miss out on your sleep, vôgiá.”

“cyra-"

“see you whenever. i’m going to go hang out in my back up nest and-”

“for fuck’s sake, cyra, shut the fuck up!” vôgiá shouted, interrupting the pity party. cyra stared at her, eyes wide at the realization that perhaps xer jokes were no longer understood as such. nevertheless, xe went silent. blessedly silent.

“i can’t fucking handle this! you always come here like this- a miserable wretch! you- you need something more than me, cyra. i can’t fucking fix you!” vôgiá continued on. everything xe’d bottled up was bubbling upwards, spilling out xer mouth, “it can’t be you, you, you! i’m part of this relationship too, damn it!”

“excuse me? what is this about? what do you mean, fix me- what do you mean, all ‘you, you, you’?” cyra replied, finally finding their words. the djinn looked almost baffled, and something about the expression made vôgiá even angrier.

“it’s like you only ever come around here to vent at me, or use me for comfort, or something else that’s focused on you. i can’t think of a single time recently that you’ve comforted me- it’s always me comforting you!”

“wh- i’m not a goddamn mind reader, vôgiá! you’ve never even told me you were upset- how is this my fault? that wasn’t my intention to come here and talk over you!” cyra’s voice was rising, fueled with anger and confusion. their fists were balled, and vôgiá found her fists were balled as well.

“would it have killed you to ask? you always come in here- you don’t even ask if you can get something off your chest. what am i supposed to say- sorry everything sucks for you, but i’m miserable too?”

“fine. fine! how’s your goddamn day?” cyra snapped, throwing their hands above their head, “is that better?”

vôgiá seethed. everything had been bottled up for so long, and now it was exploding outwards uncontrollably. and yet, at the same time… she was so tired of it.

“no, cyra. it’s not better. i’m serious. i can’t do this anymore,” vôgiá replied after a moment, all fight escaping her. it wasn’t bitter silence, or explosive frustration. no, this was tired acceptance. finality. end of an era.

“you- what do you mean? vôgiá, what the hell does that mean?” cyra replied slowly. xe had an unreadable expression on xer face, but vôgiá couldn’t put forth the effort to decode it. “are you- vôgiá, you can’t be serious. are you leaving? are you done with us- with me?”

“i am. i’m done, cyra, i can’t be with you like this anymore. we can’t fix this. i want out,” vôgiá explained, meeting cyra’s eyes. several moments of silence passed, neither saying anything and just staring at each other.

suddenly cyra stood. they were tense and angry- their very being radiated danger and vôgiá found herself unconsciously leaning back in their chair as cyra took very deliberate steps towards them. cyra’s eyes were darker than they’d ever seemed before, and as cyra balled and unballed xer fists, vôgiá could see them grow into sharp, deadly claws.

“it’s all my fault. it’s always my goddamn fault. you don’t give a shit about my issues,” cyra’s voice was sharp and angry, violence simmering in every syllable. “you wanted me to ask- i asked! but noo, it was too late. too late, even though you never told me what you wanted.”

“cy-”

“you can’t fix me? who said i wanted you to fix me- i’m not an object, you asshole. but no, i’m the monster here. i’m the awful one. even though i’m not the one who waited so long to bring this up.”

“c-”

“you didn’t even give me a chance to change it. you didn’t want me to, did you? you want an excuse to get rid of me. i’m awful. a pest. a monster.”

vôgiá could only watch, transfixed by a paralyzing mix of fear and shock, as cyra raised a claw. xe pointed it, frighteningly confident in the way they held themself.

“i’ll prove it. i’ll prove i’m exactly what you think i am.”