Here Together

Valerie’s pasta was growing cold.

It was almost midnight by now and Dollie was just seated there at the dining table, her hands folded together on the wooden surface. Her posture was frozen stiff, her back pressed a little too hard against the frame of the chair.

She’d been waiting for almost two hours now.

Tick, tock.

The hands on the clock were inching forward to the big twelve.

Tick, tock.

Eleven missed calls were listed on her phone.

Tick, tock.

Dollie didn’t even blink. She just kept staring straight ahead, her gaze lingering on a framed photo of her and Valerie positioned next to Valerie’s untouched dinner. The scene in that photo displayed them having a picnic in a field of strawberries.

They had a nice time that day.

She wondered if there would be any more nice times after this.

Whoosh!

Just then, the sound of a door flying open interrupted all train of thought. In the direction of the noise, Dollie whipped her head around so hard that her neck almost snapped.

And there Valerie was, standing there by the doorway of the kitchen. Her clothes, which consisted of a bulky trench coat and black boots, were drenched to the bone. Meanwhile, her head was so damp that it sagged her pigtails down in a wilted mess. Wisps of hair clung onto her cheeks, sticking to her pink skin at awkward angles.

As she drifted closer to Dollie, she could sense a heavy tension looming in the air. It was so palpable that Valerie could almost taste how sour it was.

“H-hey,” Valerie sputtered, her hands flying all over the place. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

No response.

Dollie just continued to sit there and stare with this deadpan gaze. She made no indication that she was even breathing properly, which only amped up Valerie’s concerns even more.

“Um . . .” Out of anxious habit, Valerie fiddled with her fingers. “Look, I-I know you’re not okay, and I’m sorry that—“

“Who is it?”

The question was delivered in a crisp and concise manner. It was devoid of all emotion and was carried out with this neutral tone to it, almost as if detached from reality itself.

Valerie was just puzzled at this point.

“Are you—“ She halted just then, horror washing over her. “No . . . Hey, Dollie, i-if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking—“

“Who is it?” Again, she repeated herself, but this time Valerie could hear the raw anger threatening to burst from the seams. There was also a hint of hurt now, or at least enough to cut straight through Valerie like a knife.

While rising from her chair, Dollie slapped her palms on the table, generating a loud smack that almost rattled the wooden surface. “Who did you see? You can’t hide this from me.”

There were tears swelling up in her eye now, followed by a frantic tremor in her tone of voice.

“I’m not seeing anyone, Dollie.”

With a sympathetic look, Valerie stood stock still, watching as despair slowly consumed Dollie from the inside out. Large shudders began to quake Dollie’s shoulders, followed by a violent sob that cracked through the icy facade she had tried so hard to maintain. She was crying now, a broken sob bursting from her in an emotional geyser.

Valerie wanted so badly to just come up and wrap her in a hug, but she didn’t know if it was okay to even touch her when she was like this. She didn’t want to make another mistake, not again.

Instead, she slowly shed off her jacket and withdrew something out from one of her rather spacious trench coat pockets before setting it on the table.

Dollie’s eyes widened at the sight of the item.

It was a Matryoshka doll.

For this one, the painted face on the doll figure resembled a Xynthii woman with white-black hair and magenta pink skin. The stroke techniques were off, and the colors would sometimes meld together in this amateur fusion, but Dollie could still recognize it nonetheless.

It was supposed to be Valerie.

“I-I know this is the only type of doll you didn’t have left for your collection.” Every word that tumbled out from Valerie weighed like lead. All of her anxieties boiled in her blood, setting her on fire with complete and utter humiliation as she forced herself to explain what she’d been up to all along. “And I wanted to—wanted to get it right.”

This time, tears began to seep through her own eye. They stung her vision, followed by the sharp agony of her heart threatening to split in half.

“I-I tried to . . .” A pathetic sniffle echoed from her. She could feel Dollie’s stare boring into her, which only added onto the pressure of it all. “I tried to make it for you, but I had to stay up sometimes to learn how to paint it in an art class I’ve been trying to take, to help improve with my skills, and even then it’s not good. It’s just not good enough, I’m—I feel nothing I ever do is good.”

“Valerie . . .”

“I understand if you want me to leave—“

“No, no, I’m sorry.” Dollie approached her just then, her hands sliding up “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—I just assumed and I misunderstood.”

“I love you,” Valerie blurted. “I would never leave you.”

“I love you too.” With her arms locked around her neck, Dollie pulled her in a tight embrace. “I was just so scared. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

As they lingered in the hug, the weight of their sobs had soaked through their shoulders, but neither of them cared. They were in each other’s arms now and that was all that mattered.

Carefully, Dollie cupped both sides of Valerie’s face before kissing her cheeks with her hand mouths. Soft smooches trailed down the plane of skin there, tasting the salt of her last set of tears.

In return, Valerie tucked a stray strand of Dollie’s rainbow hair behind her pointed ear before planting a smooch on her forehead with one of her hands.

Their fingers intertwined, joining together as their mouths connected in a sloppy kiss.

As they remained like this in a comfortable silence, Valerie spoke once more, this time with a warm coo to her words.

“I understand what it feels like to be cheated on. I’ve been there before.”

Dollie tilted her chin up, her red eye now widening in surprise. She would only ask about that story later, but for now, she just listened. As her head was rested against Valerie’s chest, she could feel the rapid-fire thumps of her heart rate pounding through her ribs.

“I know what it feels like to just want that validation, even if it means letting other people hurt you along the way.”

Dollie felt herself being squeezed just a bit tighter, like Valerie was trying to reassure her with actions too and not just words. She could hear the thunderous roars of her heartbeats even louder now, even closer.

This was how much Valerie cared.

“I-I understand how you feel,” Valerie said. “And I’m sorry I made you feel that way. That’s my fault. I’ll try to charge my phone more next time, so that it won’t die like tonight and you’ll know that I’m still here. I’m still with you. Always.”

Later on, as they migrated to the bed together for a healing cuddle session, Dollie couldn’t help but cry once more, though this time for a completely different reason.

And Valerie was there to hold her throughout the whole night.