Archive of Our Own

“You know, I’ve been thinking about something.” Green began, leaning back in one of White’s aluminium garden chairs. They looked over at White as they peered at them over the top of their designer sunglasses.

“Whenever you say that, you always manage to say something weird afterwards.” White commented. It wasn’t that they meant anything by it, but Green had a particular habit of letting their thoughts run wild, so sometimes their conversation starters could be a bit unpredictable, “What is it, my dear?”

“Well– wow.” Green started, pausing when the pet name processed in their head. It sounded utterly endeared, “Uh– well, I was thinking about something you told me before.”

“I…” White furrowed their eyebrows, contemplative, “I might need you to be more specific than that. I’ve told you a lot of things.”

“That people… people…” Their expression became awkward, and the way that they were suddenly averting their eyes had White sitting up in their seat. They hadn’t said anything, at least not in that very moment. They tried giving Green the chance to speak first, even if it didn’t answer any questions when they said, “Actually, I don’t know if I should be talking about this. It’s probably really sensitive for you.” 

“I would hardly say I’m sensitive,” White insisted, though they didn’t exactly believe it themselves. Though they weren’t as expressive about it as other people they know, they wouldn’t say they weren’t impervious to the occasional whine. Or five, “Is… something wrong?”

“No, no. I mean, it was ages ago. So it’s not really– important anymore.” Green insisted, their hand idly rubbing down their arm as if they could have coaxed a more convincing answer out of themselves.

To say the least, Green was one of the people that were ‘more expressive’ about it than them. They wore their heart on their sleeve, and their self-soothing motion along it was nothing short of worrying.

“Did I do something?” White asked, and Green’s focus suddenly snapped up to White, “You have to tell me when I do. I’m– not all that good at noticing it for myself. What was it?”

“It wasn’t anything!” Green yelped, “You didn’t do anything. It’s all me and my big old head.”

“Your head’s normal sized… I think. I mean maybe it’s a bit pointy but– no. No, it’s normal.” They assured, correcting themselves quickly. Though, White probably had not read into that enough, as Green confusedly rubbing the top of their head gave off the impression that they meant it more figuratively than literally. Whoops.

“Oh...thanks.” They lowered their hand, which immediately went to picking at their sleeve again, “I was thinking about when you said people don’t usually stick around. Is it okay if I sort of add onto that?”

“What?” White knew what. They knew what they said and when they had said it– naturally. But they thought that conversation had drawn to its natural close, “Yeah. Be my guest.”

“Okay, great.” Green took a deep breath, attempting to expel out all their nerves, “I kinda… relate to that a lot more than I thought I did.” 

“Really?” White asked carefully. Green had always seemed popular with people around them, their cheery yet jumpy disposition coming off as endearing to people around them. Why would people not stick around? Did they have to sue someone?

“Yeah, really.” Green answered with a soft hum, “Cause I didn’t really… go to mainstream school. There used to be a connected school a short walk from the farm, and that was really convenient. But no one there liked me.”

“Why not?” White asked, raising their sunglasses to rest on the crown of their head. 

“It was actually because of the farm.” They answered, “Yeah, all the other kids thought I was weird because I was friends with worms. My closest friend at the time actually was a worm– it was the first worm I helped to raise, and I thought we bonded like family. But apparently whenever you tell people that- they call you weird and disgusting.”

“...Oh, Greenie. You poor thing.” White crooned, placing their hand on top of Green’s hand. Green looked surprised by the touch, then curled their fingers around White’s.

“As I said, it was ages ago. It’s not a big deal.” Green shook their head, squeezing White’s hand, “But eventually the name calling got worse, and the kids started picking on me in other ways. So my parents had no choice but to pull me out of school entirely, and have me homeschooled. I just don’t get how people can be so cruel for no reason.”

“People are terrible.” White commented, rubbing their thumb along Green’s knuckles, “That’s just the hard truth. Some people are so jealous of others that they have to make it someone else’s  problem.”

Green giggled pleasantly, “Who would be jealous of a kid who grew up on a farm?”

“Maybe a vegan.” White shrugged, “People like that aren’t worth your time.”

Green blinked, looking endearingly lost, “What, vegans?”

“No, jealous people!” White exclaimed, “Why would I mean vegans?”

“I dunno. You look like someone who would hate vegans.” Green commented, tilting their head.

“I can name about five vegans in my contacts. I can assure you I don’t.” White retorted. Though the return of the innocent amusement on Green’s face made it complicated to stay mad for particularly long, “Seriously, though? Ignore them. Whatever they’re going through has nothing to do with you. They don’t know who you actually are, so it doesn’t matter what they say about you when they act like you do.”

“I suppose not.” Green looked down, “Thanks.”

Apparently, White had to take their own advice faster than Green. 

White hadn’t told their parents about Green.

It was complicated, admittedly. Having to swallow down the urge to show Green off to the world, hanging off their arm like a new bag that they had gotten all to themselves. Every time that they invested some of their resources into something, and soon had it all to themselves, everyone else in their vicinity had to know about it. Green, for as much as they were less flashy about it, fit into the same idea. 

But White’s parents were… particular. If they were any other people, it may have been different. They may not have been able to ignore the obvious and less obvious differences between them, but they would have been able to put them aside for the sake of accepting the fact that their child was happy. White’s parents, however, have no concern for emotion, and will criticise anything that they have the capacity to criticise. In an attempt to ensure that Green did not fall into their hands, they ended up hiding Green away somewhat. 

Green hadn’t taken issue to this predicament, which was something that White was obscenely grateful for. Their spaces were different, which meant that Green had been free to let the news cycle around the people in their proximity, so long as it meant that people within White’s were not finding out about the fact that they were in a relationship. They needed more time, even if they were morbidly aware that the clock was ticking. 

Because their parents had found out on their own turn. And, as to be expected, they were not particularly happy, wearing grimaces akin to seeing someone bring out an unappealing food platter. 

After all the time and effort they put into it. They didn’t even care to consider.

White’s father, the next time they came over, stared at a framed photo of Green they held in their hands. White briefly imagined snatching it out of their hands and telling them to not leave the matter alone, but they ultimately decided against it.

“This is the person that you decided to get involved with?” They turned the photo around for their child to observe. A candid selfie of Green all bothered from work that White decided was the most pleasant thing to look at.

“...it is.” White responded, almost sounding guilty. Not because Green had been the person that they ended up with, but because their parents had bored into them that they were always the one in the wrong.

“White, you’ve had plenty of options. We’ve even given you plenty of options.” Their mother said, exasperated. 

Sure, they did. They’d been ‘giving them options’ from the start of their life, when they guided them towards certain children or made them have play dates with children that they hardly knew. It was all so White would make the right friends, and be surrounded by the right values. As they got older, and romance became increasingly more on the table, they began to push them towards heirs and prodigies, in an attempt to carry out the prestigious bloodline. 

They thought it was fine. It was to be expected, really, even if they never found themselves particularly attracted to any of them. They’d told them time and time again that this would be the best outcome for their family and their business, so they didn’t allow themselves to think about it enough that they could allow themselves to get upset over it.

Maybe they weren’t entirely options. But this was, what White thought, the most flexibility that people of their status had, so they settled for the ‘sacrifice’ that they had to make.

After Green came along, they couldn’t see it the same way anymore. Knowing that there were other options, they just weren’t given them. Still, there was a big discrepancy between what they thought and what they were able to say.

“I’m aware.” They answered feebly. They watched their parents place down the photograph and divert their attention back to them, full of scorn just for them. A child who thought that it was socially acceptable to love.

“Then you should also be aware that you should only be associating with people of a higher status than people like that.” Their father said, with a definitive hiss on ‘that’, “You should have picked from the more suitable contenders if you decided you wanted a relationship.”

Why did it matter? They were an adult now, they could make their own decisions. But even so, it felt like, since their parents had provided close to all of the materials that had gotten them to the point they were at now, as well as a lot of investments, they were still expecting some sort of reward. Like taking care of their child was not an obligation, but a business trade that White was only now able to pass forward.

“But I–” I love them.

“--Children don’t talk back to their parents.” They were interrupted by their father. The word only solidifies their thoughts; they’re still a child in the eyes of their parents, “Whatever you want to say, it doesn’t mask the truth. You’re trying to make a fool of our family by bringing this– person into it. Just look at this photograph.”

All White saw was someone beautiful. 

“They’re completely unrefined,” Was apparently the answer that they were supposed to get, “They’re wearing cheap quality, tattered clothing, and their hair is a complete mess! The kind of person that has no care for their physical appearance is disgusting.”

Disgusting. 

“But apparently whenever you tell people that- they call you weird and disgusting.”

Their parents were weaponising the very word that was used against Green all those years ago. It made them feel unreasonably angry. They grit their teeth and clenched their fists against their pant leg, looking away before glaring back up.

“Don’t say that.” They murmured protectively.

Their father raised their head, glancing down at them from the bottom of their eyes, “I think you’ll find that I can say whatever I want. Must I remind you that I was the one who put clothes on your back and food on your plate? How would you even afford this house and all its attendants if it weren’t for me?”

That’s why White’s so clung to their parents. Their wealth is one of the few things about them, and that is directly tied to their parents. Letting them go would require losing a part of themselves. Not just money, but the identity that they gave them.

“And this is how you repay me?” Their father finished sarcastically, “By pursuing someone that mocks our image? Completely disappointing.”

“What if they make me happy?” White asked.

Their father raised an eyebrow, “How certain are you that they’re not only using you for your money?”

White bristled.

They’re… not. They were almost entirely certain of that. 

How could they possibly? 

“Very.” White tried, their expression tight.

“I don’t believe you. I’m not certain that you would be able to tell.” Their father disputed, “This is not like you. You’re not usually so clueless. So infatuated. They’ve done something to you, I’m almost certain of it.”

White wasn’t even given the chance to argue this time, “I’ll have to step in if this starts getting too far. Help redirect you… the right way.”

White was helpless when their parents left them there, forcibly having to drop the matter. They never questioned their parents, never having been steered wrong by them in the past, but they were only turning the conversations in the direction that most benefitted them. And in this case… it meant leaving their child behind in the marble house, like an absurdly large time out corner. They were punishing them without saying anything. Expecting them to reflect and realise what Green has been doing, so they’ll come back and pamper them with more riches.

But Green… why couldn’t they just accept that they loved Green? That they still benefited from their presence, if not just for money or fame?

“Gah!” They stomped their feet on the ground, “Gah, grh– aaah!” 

This outburst of wordless sounds and frankly weak feet kicks continued until their immediate energy had worn off, several intervals later. They covered their face with their hands and let out a long, final grunt.

White then dropped onto their knees on the marble, saddled by their emotions. Their frustration, their helplessness, even their annoyance that they tried to mask as considerably less personal. No matter what way they tried to frame it, however, the truth still remained: that this was a family matter.

And they couldn’t stand it.

They had to go. They had to get out of this house for a bit, surrounded by the constant reminder of what their parents held over them. Every wall, listening in on their private affairs to report back. Every piece of furniture, that they somehow weren’t sitting on like a frightened animal. Every single part of it– no matter how hard they worked, no matter how much money was their own now, the apparent nepotism was everywhere, and it was a mockery.

There was only one thing in their home they didn’t mind seeing. The picture of Green on the table. And they knew from there exactly where they needed to go, until they were able to pull themselves back together.

They told their chef to postpone on making dinner, as it was around the time that they would usually get started, and left the house without any indication of where they were going. Then they mounted their segway and left out onto the streets. 

And everything just went wrong so exponentially fast. Rain began to pour down from the sky shortly after their trip began and stuck their hair and clothes to their body. Seriously? Why did this have to happen now? When they were already having a bad enough day, the world just decided to piss on them one more time? Were they supposed to just keel over and cry?

They didn’t. Not in public. Not where everyone could see. 

Their expressions tightened and they tried to push their segway to move a little faster. Unfortunately the thing was capped at a pretty slow speed, like they were supposed to what? Be safe? They had places to be, safety be damned.

But before they knew it, the lot to Green’s farm house came into view. They were a little way out from any parking or appropriate charging points, but as they were jostled along a stone-covered path to park their segway underneath a small dug out, none of that had mattered.

They just needed to see Green. 

They hopped off the segway, and something squelched under their feet. Wet mud, if they had to make a guess, but not daring to figure out. They got on their tip toes for good measure, taking large steps up to the patio while distantly holding onto the awareness that this is doing nothing for them. Every little mishap was only assimilating into their foul mood, and making it increasingly difficult to not yell out.

They were there now, at least. All that trekking grievance was over, they thought, as they knocked on the door.

“Hello?” As the door opened, White was greeted by the face of someone they did not recognise. Aged and round, with a gentle gaze. 

That’s not Green. There were some structural similarities between the two, reminding them that they were in the right location, but that still wasn’t Green. Despite the separation between the two spaces being removed, White suddenly felt a barrier go up between them. A barrier of their own, trying to keep all their emotions at bay. They swallowed hard, gulping down their words. 

They weren’t in the clear just yet. They’d have to hold on a little longer. 

Unfortunately for them, the person seemed to recognise them instantaneously, “Oh! You’re White!”

“...Yep.” They answered, soon marvelling at how strained it sounded, “Sure am.”

“You must be here for Green, right?” White mimicked the same sentiment. The soft-faced individual ushered them inside, “Well, don’t stand out there in the rain! Please, come in— you must be so cold!” 

They didn’t dwell on the fact that they hadn’t brought along a jacket with them when they left,  still in their shirt and shorts. Their clothes were soaked right through at this point, and yet it was still their house that they wanted to get out of, though the stickiness didn’t help. 

“I’ll be alright.” White assured, “Temperature doesn’t bother me– too hot or too cold.”

That wasn’t entirely true. The low temperature had them shivering, but getting that out of them would be like pulling out teeth. 

“Okay, well… still. Let us at least try and dry you off first.” The person walked a little down the hallway with their hands clasped, calling out, “Green! Do we have any clean towels?”

“Oh! Um… I’m not sure!” Green called back from somewhere down the hallway, “Let me check!”

A door opened and feet padded down the hallway, stopped, then started again.

“Found one!” They announced, following the voice down to the entryway, “There you– White?!”

Green jumped in their skin at the sight of their partner. While their hand first went to extend the towel to the requester (who, White might have to ask the name of, since they still have absolutely no clue who that is), they then bounded over and threw it over White’s head.

“Wh– what are you doing here? Oh no… you’re all soaked! Let me…” Green trailed off, beginning to rub the towel up and down along their hair. White could feel their perfect hair tousling the more that Green rubbed, side to side as Green tried to get the whole area. 

“Don’t worry about it,” White said. Green stopped what they were doing and slowly lifted their hands off the towel, allowing White to lower it around their neck, “My hair never looks good when it’s tried with a towel. I’d better air dry it.” 

“Right, of course.” Green tapped their head bashfully, though White hadn’t really expected them to understand, “I’m just… so confused. I didn’t think you’d show up here. Did you call, or text, or something, and I just missed it…?”

Green fished into their pocket, pulling out their phone. White placed one hand over the screen, slowly lowering it.

“Nothing like that. I just… thought I’d visit you in the spur of the moment.” White forced a smile onto their face, “Isn’t that what partners do for each other?”

“Oh, how sweet!” The other person had said, clasping their hands. Green still didn’t look particularly convinced. 

“Well…” Green blinked, looking over White’s shoulder, “Sure, I mean… I guess that makes sense. But it’s heaving it down out there! Don’t you… I don’t know… have a guy who would stand behind you holding an umbrella?”

“I do, but they’re sick today.” White hummed, clicking their tongue, “Isn’t that ironic?”

“Mm.” Green looked back, doubtful. White was the kind of person to have about 5 different back up people in the case that something went wrong, so to come completely unaccompanied was something that Green was rightful to be confused about, “Definitely. Hope they get well soon! You… wanna head up to my room?”

“Sounds good.” White hummed.

As Green led White down the hallway, the other person had chirped, “Have fun, you two!”

Green ducked into a room that was probably half the size of White’s closet. A bedroom, a glance around confirmed, with a simple bed, dresser, and a table and chair. And Green’s bedroom no less, though to be expected, judging by the almost identical hoodie that was laying on the floor.

“Oh! Uh… ahah.” Green slipped ahead, awkwardly kicking the hoodie underneath their bed so White wouldn’t see it, “Don’t mind that, I– didn’t think I’d have company.”

“I get it. I can be pretty filthy, too.” White commented, remaining close to the doorway, though they mostly meant the scandalous act of having a drink without a coaster.

“Really?” Green marvelled, letting out a small noise, “Never woulda figured. At least that makes me… a little less embarrassed. We’ll just pretend you didn’t see that. Hang on, let me close that.”

Green reached behind White to press their bedroom door shut. 

It was just them. No one else. No shows, no facades…

…nothing. Quiet– private. A space just for them. 

White felt something inside of them shatter at that very moment. And their inhibitions were gone. 

All the emotions that they had been trying to ward off came flooding over them at once, and they sent themselves crashing face first onto the covers of Green’s bed, letting out a long whinge that was somewhere between a cry and a groan.

“White!” Green shrieked, horrified, “Did that hurt? I know my bed’s a bit lumpy, I’ve been trying to save up the money to get a new mattress–” 

“--I’m UPSET!” White exclaimed, raising their head up. They glared with sharp but watery eyes, “Did you not NOTICE?”

Though, the bed was in fact kind of lumpy.

“You only made that sound after you hit the bed, so I thought– I don’t know the difference!” Green wailed, placing their hands down on White’s shoulders, “Did you want to talk about it?”

“My parents found out about us!” White rolled over onto their back on the bed, sprawling out dramatically with one hand over their face, “And they were– unbelievable about it! I knew that there was going to be some resistance if they ever found out, but I didn’t think they were going to be so… so…”

They sniffed.

“...so what?” Green prompted as White began to fall silent. They perched down on the edge of the bed beside White.

So cruel. 

So unfair. To me and to you

So…

…

White grunted, flopping down onto Green’s lap, “Hold me. I want to be comforted.” They demanded.

“I can do that!” Green said chipperly. 

Green scooted further back onto the bed, dragging White along like limp mass. At some point they suddenly decided that helping Green out might have been worth it in the end, and scooched up to rest against their stomach, legs stretched out  along the bed.

“It’ll be okay.” Green crooned, petting White’s hair and giving them a little squeeze, “You know, whatever happens, at least you still have me.” 

…

I don’t deserve you.

That thought had come to them suddenly. People usually think that it would be the other way around, watching as White’s partner bumbles around and makes a fool of themselves, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

White was their parent’s child; they copied their actions, their beliefs, almost their entire livelihood, with a deeper rooted sense of entitlement due to never having to struggle or suffer just to keep the things around them the way that they were. That idea shouldn’t be something they are particularly bothered by. Their father was a hard working individual who had amassed their fortune off of willpower and intellect- to be compared to someone like that should have been an honour, if anything.

Since why, thank you for recognising me. For seeing that I, too, am a hard worker who deserves praise and attention.

…

…

Disgusting. 

They still used the very same word, the same word that Green had carried along with them into adulthood. Etched into their body, so they saw it every time they thought of their scars. They used it without caring for what it meant to them, and still with full purpose for it to hurt all the same.

If they had used it, and White was just like them…

…in any other case, would they have used it too? Scoffed at the idea that people could be friends with worms, and that children who were constantly covered in dirt practically deserved to be called disgusting?

And if that was the case, then could they say that they were truthfully, thoroughly deserving of the attention that they gave them? Or were they just indulging themselves in their superiority complex masked as personal development.

White nuzzled their head against Green’s stomach. Wrapped their arms around them and held onto them tightly, as though losing them was becoming a very real possibility at this point. 

“I need you to tell me the truth,” They said, “I mean it. I don’t want you to lie and make me feel better.”

“Do you mean it mean it?” Green asked nervously, “Cause the last you said you meant it, you gave me the silent treatment.”

They did. And they’d done this several times. They’d ask for Green’s opinion on their outfit or their makeup, and got stroppy whenever they gave the ‘wrong’ answer. Because they were supposed to say ‘wow you look beautiful in everything and I’m so happy you’re the person I spend my days with!’. It was common sense really.

“I do.” They answered, no emotion in their voice. They refused to lift their head, “I actually need it this time.”

“Okay.” Green said quietly, pausing the rubbing motion along White’s flat, sopping hair.

“Firstly– that’s nice. I didn’t say stop.” White mentioned. Green squeaked, starting back up again, “Secondly–  would you still love me if I was the same person I was when we met?”

“I think I’ve always loved you,” Green wagered, and White curled up a little closer into them, “Even if you didn’t see me in the same way I saw you. I thought you were one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen.”

“You said that about Blue, too.” White murmured grumpily. 

“I know. That’s why I said one of.” Green answered, unbothered.

“So you think Blue is more attractive than me?”

“I didn’t say that!” Green jolted, which White felt against their body, “I think you’re way more attractive than Blue! Now! Because I know you better! Ughhh… Pleeassseeee have mercy on me. I’m gonna throw up.”

White harumphed, “Alright. You pass the test.”

One of many tests they give.

“Thank God.” Green exhaled, their muscles relaxing, “But…yeah. I still thought you were great even before you decided you wanted to change. So I think I would.”

“I don’t know if that’s actually true.” White answered, Green made an aborted sound, sounding like they were about to insist that it was before they stopped, “You didn’t know anything about me. The person I was, the kind of values that I held. You don’t know what I would have done if you got too close.”

I would have insulted you. I would have called you disgusting, as I bossed you around. Because people like you and people like me wouldn’t have been able to be friends. 

That was it, right? That was the way it happened? They didn’t stop to think about it.

“I don’t think you’re that kinda person.” Green commented, as White pressed their lips together. They didn’t know. They didn’t know anything. They couldn’t possibly know, “You were a lot more ‘all about me’ than you are now, but you never said or did anything that hurt me.”

Really? Maybe they were just looking at things retrospectively. 

But still– they were continuing to associate with the past that they were trying to get away from. They were condemning the idea of being so cruel to Green but then not speaking up enough against the people who were saying these things. And yet there Green was, comforting them despite their compliance and their inactivity.

Did they mean it? 

“Of course I do!” Green insisted, and White realised they’d actually said that out loud, “Did someone make you think I didn’t? I’ll– I’ll–! Ahh… I don’t know what I’ll do. But I’ll do something, I promise you!” 

“I think I’m alright with just your attention.” White had essentially gone back to being limp in Green’s hold, trusting them completely to keep them there and secure. Maybe that meant they would be able to trust them on other things, even if it felt particularly far fetched in their mind.

“Hey, um… did you want to stay here for the night?” Green asked, and White lifted their head up, “I know it’s nothing like your place. But I feel really bad sending you out there in the rain, I don’t want you to get a cold.” 

White spared a glance in the direction of the window, heaving it down much more heavily with the newly forming mist creating a veil that made it hard to see anything outside. They stared long enough to look like they were considering their options, but there was nothing going on in their head, considering it wouldn’t be particularly complicated one way or another. They could just call one of their chauffeurs to come and collect them.

But then Green would worry. 

“I guess I don’t have much choice, do I?” They do. Oh, they’re very aware that they do.  But maybe only one of them has to know that.

“Good.” Green answered, relieved, “But, maybe we should get you out of those clothes. I have a lot of spare hand me downs that I never really fit into, but maybe you’ll fit into them. Or I could just give you some of my clothes.”

Green’s…clothes.

Them in Green’s clothes. Probably the only substitute for their own clothes that they would be okay with. 

“The second one sounds fine.” They answered, trying not to sound cripplingly desperate. 

“Alright!” Green pushed themselves off the bed, heading over to their dresser. White sat up in bed, propping themselves up against the bed frame as Green began to essentially tore their wardrobe apart, “Oh– not that one. Not that one either– no– ahh–”

“You-” White began, eyeing the hoodies that they were tossing away, “--own a lot of the same hoodie.”

“They’re easy to buy a lot of at once.” Green responded guiltily, “So I can get more hoodies for less money.”

“Sounds like a reasonable business strategy.” White uttered as they raised their eyebrows.

Green sifted through a couple more hoodies, before pulling out one with purpose, “This one. This one’s good for you.”

“What’s wrong with the other ones?” White’s gaze followed Green as they placed the hoodie down on the bed, then went to collect the other articles of clothing.

“I’ve had them for a while.” Green explained, “They’re starting to get really patchy, and… if I gave you a patchy hoodie, would you think I was being too cheap?”

“I can’t really complain, given the circumstances.” White took the hoodie, and subsequently the rest of the clothes once they had been appropriately delivered to them. Green showed much less distress when it came to collecting the rest of the clothes, as though the hoodie, the staple of Green’s typical outfit, determined their relationship. Giving them the wrong one could give off the wrong impression about their relationship. 

Maybe White should have just said it to their face. I will wear anything that has touched any part of your body. It’s romantic. 

Subsequently after, Green led White to one of the family bathrooms, as the thought popped into their head that they wouldn’t be opposed to Green getting flustered at the sight of seeing them in their clothes. A small smile played onto their face, somewhat conspiring. 

The shower in question had been a small cubicle directly on top of a bathtub, with a thin shower curtain dividing the bath-shower combo from the rest of the room. As well as that, there was the expected toilet and sink, with several colourful toothbrushes leaned in one cup. 

“The towels are down there if you need any extra.” Green said, kneeling down to point to a closed cupboard, “And if you need anything, you can just shout at me and I’ll come running as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.” Green nodded as if to say ‘you’re welcome’, and left out the bathroom door. 

The thin walls didn’t insulate the sound of Green’s voice down the hall, asking ‘Mom’ if they could set up another plate for White at dinner. 

So, that person they met at the door… that was Green’s mother; the apple didn’t fall particularly far from the tree. Them and Green had their supple, friendly natures in common. But the moment that they started thinking about that comparison, the more that they started thinking about their relationship with their own family, and they turned the shower head on as if it would be able to drown out their thoughts for a little while. 

They peeled their clothes off their body and neatly folded them on top of the counter top before stepping into the shower.

The water pressure was a lot lower than what they were used to, with only one feeble head above them trying to do all the work. Similarly, the drugstore shampoos that were stacked on the rack didn’t look particularly good for their hair, and–

–is that a 5 in 1. What else was in that abomination????

Anyway, they didn’t touch it, at the expense of not having their hair washed that evening. It would have messed up their hair schedule, anyway, and they just needed to freshen up a bit.

In spite of that, they stayed under the water, little pellets ricocheting off their body, until their fingers were pruning up. Then they turned off the head, stepped out the makeshift cubicle and reached for the clothes while wrapping their towel around their waist.. 

The scent of Green on their clothes when they’d gotten into the, was a lingering comfort, the swaddling warmth like being bundled up in their arms. They thought about where Green was, feeling obscenely clingy all of a sudden, and stepped out of the bathroom once they were dry enough, tuning into the sound of talking and plates clattering against wood. 

Lured in by the sound, White found Green setting up the dinner table with their Mom as the latter distributed food between plates. Green glanced up and eyed White up and down before grinning.

“Aww, you look so cute like that!” They bounded over, their hands hovering either side of White’s arms.

White giggled bashfully.

…hey.

Hey! Green was supposed to be the one who was getting flustered, not them! This entire thing was backwards!

But, they supposed if Green was still fussing over them like they wanted, then they would accept the circumstances as they come.

“Oh, stop.” White swatted at the air with one hand, holding their face with the other. A telltale sign for keep going as they preened in the attention they were receiving. 

“Did the shower work okay?” Green lowered their hands, “Sometimes we run out of cold water cause of all the people we have in here. Since you showered pretty late, I was wondering.”

“No problems for me.” White reported, running their hand through their wet hair to style it back as much as they could as they distantly yearned for a hair dryer. While their hand ran back down, it came to their attention that Green had removed their hoodie, exposing their plain brown crew-cut shirt, “Was it too hot?”

“Oh, no.” Green followed their gaze, then their eyebrows raised in realisation, “My hoodie just got a little wet. For… unrelated reasons.”

“Well that doesn’t make me feel good about myself.” White deadpanned, their posture sagging. 

“I said it was unrelated!” 

There was something in the communal area that caught their attention. There was a framed photo of White among all the other pictures that they had of their family. It was encased in a golden baroque style frame that White had so generously allowed them to keep, but they didn’t know of the photo they’d placed on the inside.

They took a long glance at the photo before they’d said anything. It had been a photo of a time when Green had said something so surprising that White had burst out laughing, momentarily incapacitated from the rest of the world. Apparently, while they hadn’t been focussed, and were heaving about it for much longer than they probably should have, Green had snapped a picture of them.

…wow. White didn’t know how they felt about that.

For one thing, it was endearing. That Green had been so enamoured by the state that White had been in that they captured it in order to seal it in their memory thereafter, and that they dedicated a space on their albeit crowded table to the person they loved. But admittedly they were a little embarrassed. It wasn’t particularly refined to laugh that hard, and in part it looked like they had been caught in the act.

White had done photoshoots before– plenty of them– so using one of those photos would have surely looked wondrously better. So, why…?

“How long has this been here?” White stopped Green as they were delivering another handful worth of knives and forks to the table. 

“Uh… I don’t really remember?” Green stepped up beside White, an equally confused expression on their face.

“Why is it here, of all places?” White asked. They wanted to ask why have you put me with all your family members but they didn’t really know how to put that into words. White’s photo of Green had been intentionally placed completely on its own, as though they were trying to separate them from family life.

“We put all our family photos here. Look, those are my parents, that’s my oldest sibling, and those are my niblings.” Green explained, their hand moving around to gesture to each of the family photos in part.

“Family, you said?” And yet, White was looking directly at Green. 

“Did– you not want me to use that word?” Green blinked, their eyes wide when they reopened them, “I know, I’m probably taking things too fast, but you mean a lot to me. …A-anyway, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Green reached over, picking up the top of the picture frame. White grabbed onto their wrist, preventing any movement.

“No, I do.”  They spoke firmly, their expression tight.

Green watched them for a few moments before placing the photo back down where it had been before. 

Family photos.

Green–  in some way, shape or form, and at some point– started considering White their family. They knew they probably meant it to represent the level of intimacy that they had, as well as their desires to keep their relationship in the long term. But they also found it to be a little disorienting.

How were they able to say that so easily? How had it been that they were so quick and easy to be accepted into Green’s family, but the same thing wasn’t entirely simple for White’s? A long stare at these photos showed them that this family was filled with love in every single way, and they thought that might have something to do with it, but that didn’t ease up any tension in their body that they were currently experiencing.

If only things had been able to be the same way in their family. If only they would be able to convince their parents to at least give Green a chance, like they did, and be able to see that their admittedly unkempt appearance was not the only thing about them. (Besides, they tried to tend to it more whenever they were in White’s company, so they were making progress).

But of course, people like that lived in a bubble, where their same rhetoric bounced around each of the walls. And they had for years, years longer than White had, making the process of branching off considerably more difficult. 

White tried not to empathise.

“Come on.” Green said, with a light touch against their hand that broke them out of their train of thought, “We should go sit down.” 

There was already a seat for them at the table, to their surprise. Even if it was something that they already knew about. But they meant that more in a metaphorical sense– Green guided them to a specific chair as opposed to letting them pick themselves. It could have had something to do with where the family usually sat during dinner, but even so–

“Here, you can have the good seat.” Green attested. At some point, White was going to start wondering if Green had the capacity to read their mind. Or was this what it felt like to be a visitor in other people’s homes? They didn’t really do ‘sleepovers’, even if they knew equally rich children’s parents who did allow their kids to have those, so staying over was a pretty rare occurrence for them, “Usually it’s my seat. Cause I’m the oldest sibling? But then I’d have to make you sit on the hard or the slidey chair, and I felt bad.”

“Pardon me, the slidey chair?” White echoed, and Green nodded, pulling out the adjacent chair and placing their hand down on the cushion. They wiggled their hand around, and the cushion moved along with it, clearly not properly attached to the seat properly, “...oh. It’s– uh, vintage.”

“It’s old.” A louder voice appeared from behind them, and a hand thumped down on their shoulder. White flinched, looking behind them immediately. A tall, older figure was standing behind them, who White was quickly able to identify as Green’s father. They gave them a small smile and raised their other hand, “Just gotta call it what it is. We’ve had these chairs for a good few decades now, so I think they’re on their last legs.”

“White– this is my dad.” Green explained, and White glanced towards them briefly. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” White said, holding out one of their hands to shake.

“It’s about time!” The father answered, slapping their hand against White’s. They clasped their large fingers around White’s considerably more slender ones, squeezed and moved their hands up and down together, “Green has told us a lot about you.” 

…tight. This is very tight.

White could admire a firm hand shake. It generally gave an impression of how confident and resolved they were, which was beneficial for the leader figures that they encountered. But Green’s father, as a patriarch, held on a lot tighter than most people they knew, making White’s expression twitch as they followed the motion with their own hand. 

The father released White’s hand, which White stared at dumbfoundedly. They shared a helpless look with Green. Were they trying to cut off all circulation to White’s hand? It certainly felt like it.

“Oh, I’m glad.” White smiled thinly, “I’ve heard of you, too.”

“Really?” Green’s father laughed, sliding into the seat at the head of the table. White and Green took their respective seats subsequently afterwards, “That’s really flattering, coming from a celebrity.”

“I’m hardly a celebrity,” White insisted, waving one of their hands, “I just have a high net worth, a large social media presence and a couple commercial offers. Really, it’s just the same as everyone else.”

“I’d do good with a commercial.” Green’s father commented, as Green’s mother in the background left to round up Green’s other siblings, “It’s almost impossible to round people towards our shop.”

“That’s a shame.” White answered, glancing pitifully, “I’m sure that you’ll be able to get there eventually.” 

“Here’s to hoping, right?” Green’s father responded, with a bellowing laugh full of amusement. 

Three children soon came padding in behind their mother like ducklings, taking seats around the table. One empty seat was left beside their father, which the mother did not immediately occupy, instead going to bring over the plates to the table. 

A stew was placed in front of White, with a variety of potatoes and vegetables on the side. 

“I wasn’t sure how much you eat.” Green’s mother spoke, finally sitting down once all the plates were distributed, “Please don’t feel like you have to eat it all if you can’t. But if you want more, you can always help yourself in the kitchen.”

White hummed quietly, picking up their singular knife and fork. The pretentious part of themselves they’d been actively trying to detach from that evening questioned the fact that this family only used one set of cutlery, but they supposed that could be explained by their lack of secondary dishes. They scooped some of the stew onto their fork and brought it up to their mouth.

Again, they could hear something saying that this wasn’t gourmet cooking, unlike the cooking that the chef in their mansion usually made for them. But they decided against saying that to hurt the feelings of the poor, sweet individual who had plated up another meal in the first place. As they chewed and swallowed, though, the culinary skills weren’t the only thing they were picking up on.

They could taste the love that went into this dish. It was so prominent- a mother cooking for their large family, not fading after certainly being three decades past by this point. Nothing like their chefs were able to curate, when they were only being paid to feed them as opposed to authentically wanting to.

Nothing like…

…they ever actually received.

Their eyebrows furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” Their mother asked, and White had to fight against grimacing harder. There goes that idea, “Do you not like it?”

“It’s good,” White answered, swallowing, “I think I… have a bit of a headache.”

“You do?” Green squeaked. White, suddenly caught up in their lie, shot them a look, all let me have this! I’m trying not to ruin your family dinner, here! 

“Uh huh.” White responded tensely, “Hard to– focus.”

“Okay.” Fortunately, Green’s mother didn’t call them out on it, “Well, eat as much as you can. If you need, we can wrap it up and put it in the fridge. Green, you wouldn’t mind reheating it later, would you?”

“No! Not at all!” Green shook their head quickly.

“You’re so sweet,” Their mother doted, their eyes softening, “I’m sure you make such a good partner.” 

“They do.” White commented wistfully. They really do.

White listened to Green preen beside them as they took some more bites of the stew. Cute.

White spent the dinner listening to the family talk amongst themselves, not largely having anything to contribute. What did they know about farms, or school science projects? And yet somehow the family kept finding some way to include them into the conversation, as White gradually realised that these people had a lot of kind things to say about them.

Of course they did, they tried to argue with themselves. They were pretty important– everyone always told them so. They should have expected that they would dominate conversations, no matter how present they were in them. Yet, they were talking about them on such an interpersonal level, intermingled with all the talk about their lives.

…how new.

They took their own plate up to the sink once they were done with it, although it was stressed to them that they didn't have to clean it. They passed by Green’s mother as they did, who told them one thing:

“You’re always welcome here, whenever you want.”  With such supple earnesty in their tone. 

For what reason? They hadn’t really done anything other than just be Green’s partner, and–

—oh. Actually, that explained a lot. 

Green had brought White’s damp clothes through to the bedroom when they headed in there together. They placed them down on top of the dresser as they mumbled something about getting them washed when the morning came.

“You can’t just ‘wash’ maternal like that,” White commented as they shuffled onto Green’s bed, pressing their back against the wall, “Not in a washing machine. They need to be hand washed, like they always are.”

“Right! Of course…” Green stared at the clothes, then looked up, “I’ll have to get the bucket out, then.”

“You’d do that for me? Usually I just have one of my cleaners do it.” White asked, looking confused.

“You have cleaners?” Green was equally as confused, “It doesn’t matter. Of course! I wouldn’t want to ruin the fabric… these look expensive to replace.”

“Trust me, it means nothing to me.” White assured, and Green finally stepped away, but to White’s surprise, sat on the floor, “Why are you down there?”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to use my bed.” They answered innocently.

“This bed is big enough for the two of us.” White spoke. And, maybe in a literal sense. Green’s bed could fit two people inside of it, but it was pretty small, so they’d be squished pretty tightly together, “I’ll share with you. If you promise you’ll cuddle me.” 

“Ooh! I can do that!” Green had perked up, standing up and sliding themselves onto the bed, “I promise.” 

White wasn’t afraid. 

Every time these two shared the same bed, they ended up cuddling together. It was particularly because of White’s clinginess, causing them to demand to be spooned by Green whenever they were close by. But it also had something to do with the fact that Green was cuddly in general, latching onto the closest object while they were sleeping. White was reminded of the one time that they found Green napping with a tupperware container.

Still. Sometimes Green needed to be instructed to do things, and White was just making sure that they got what they wanted in the end. More warmth, the greedy bastard.

The second that Green wrapped their arms around White, and White was able to snuggle against their chest, they stopped caring about thoughts like that. They were happy there, and they didn’t have to push anyone down in order to get it. Wasn’t that neat? 

Maybe that was what it meant to be in love with someone. Pay off without effort, comfort without contract. Even so, White still wanted to try for them. 

To try and be better- more caring. Less… like them.

“Why did you pick that picture of me?” White asked, somewhat muffled against Green’s chest. Green snapped to attention, “I could have sent you a bunch of better ones if you told me you wanted to frame me.”

“I like that one the best.” They answered, resting their face on top of White’s head, “I feel like it’s the most– you. Not the person who tries to be formal and show everyone how polite they are, but the person I get to hang out with when no one’s looking. This you!”

They did act differently around different people, huh. But was that really how Green saw them?

“...I’m sure there were plenty of other photos that didn’t make me look like a buffoon." White laughed dryly.

“I think you look cute! Sometimes when you smile, your eyes crinkle up a bit, and they look really nice.” 

…

God. White was wrecked for them. 

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” They hid a smile against them.

They were right. They did act differently in different situations.

Maybe that meant they were right about other things. That they weren’t what they thought they were, that was just the way that they responded to their environment. The way that they were tugged along on a string, the perfect re-enactment of their parents in order to fulfil their needed family heir role.

There were no strings attached here. And here, they were themselves. Someone who was opposed to the idea of insulting Green and their livelihood- in the present, at least. When they had the ability to choose without someone trying to tether them back. 

This was a realisation that only could have come from their change in environment. From getting to be a part of Green’s family. A flourishing family, as they felt like they were gradually wilting away in their own.

‘The grass is always greener on the other side’, something like that. But when their parents were so concerned about appearances, then maybe they shouldn’t be talking about what was good for them or not. Because from their perspective, that was Green. 

“Thanks.” They’d murmured.

The evening drew to a close with a couple slowing blinks from White, and their alertness returned when they felt Green leaning their arms. The small bed suddenly started feeling massive.

It was supposedly the morning, judging by the clock that they glanced at, but the lack of light spilling in from the outside made it  hard to believe. 

“Where are you going?” White groaned, sitting up. Green looked alarmed as they took the opportunity to slip fully out of bed, staring at White. 

“No where! I was just– going to do some early morning work. You can go back to sleep.” They responded nervously, as White squinted with scepticism passed off as sleepiness.

Not when you’re not cuddling me.

“I’m already awake.” White sat up and rubbed their eyes, “Do you seriously start work this early in the morning?”

“The early bird catches the worm!” They cheered, then their expression gradually looked more and more horrified, betraying their mind realising the meaning of that figure of speech, “Oh, no! That’s horrible! I don’t want them to take my worms!”

“Then you better get out there quickly.” White decreed, shuffling to the end of the bed as Green moved around the room to get ready. After watching them shrug on a new hoodie, briefly contemplative, White finally stood up, “I’ll come with you.”

Green didn’t say anything.

“Oh… do you not want me t–” White began.

“---White!!” Green cried out suddenly, flinging themselves at White. White barely caught them, wobbling dangerously, before laughing nervously, “I thought you never wanted to step foot on the worm farm!”

“What can I say? I had a change of heart.” They responded, pulling away after a few moments, “But if I get mud on me, I’m never going back there again.”

That request sounded a lot less reasonable given the circumstances, and gave Green some pause, before their expression lit up, “You could borrow some of our boots. Unless that’s too gross for your standards.”

“...eh.” Sharing footwear did sound a little unappealing, and their expression gave them away, “I suppose it’s better than getting more mud on my loafers. I’ll have to take them.”

White briefly forgot about how grossed out by this they were when Green slipped an old pair of boots on their feet like a princess finding the perfect slipper size. Green always happened to make things a little more manageable, so they tried to think about them even in the state that they found themselves in: a little messy, in ratty clothes, and almost hardly identifiable as themselves.

They looked like a part of Green’s family. Though, how had letting the resident intern get a little too friendly with them on a cargo ship caused them to now be setting foot on a worm farm? The passage of time was strange. 

Green wasn’t bothered by it. In fact, they were laughing. 

“What? What is it?” White asked, attention snapping over.

Green unlatched a gate, which creaked back loudly, opening up a walkway bordered each side by two metal plates a couple feet apart from each other, with a layer of soil encased between them. Within the soil, there were… old tyres? Whatever those were for?

“Sorry, hehe.” Green giggled nervously, pushing the gate open far enough that White was able to step inside, “I’m just really excited. This is the first time you’ve ever wanted to come with me to the farm.”

“I didn’t realise it meant that much to you.” White raised an eyebrow as Green stepped towards one of the soil beds, picking up a handful of the soil and squeezing it in their hands. 

“It’s just that…” Green soon walked past them, picking up a watering can with a rose attachment, “You must care about me a lot if you’re able to come out here even if you hate anything muddy.”

“Obviously I care about you. I just don’t like dirt.” White answered seriously. They shifted their feet on the pathway, “Speaking of…  I’ll stay on here for now.”

“Still. It means a lot to me.” Green said, gently pouring some water down onto the soil, “Oh– who’s that?”

Green placed down the watering can and knelt in closer. They gasped. 

“White, there’s a baby!” They exclaimed. Their hands dug in and scooped some of the soil, “Look at them! Awww!”

White stepped closer, peering into the soil. They had to look around for a bit, before they noticed a tiny worm wriggling around in the soil.

“How cute.” They commented, sounding much less enthused about it than Green did.

“Do you want to hold them? You’ll have to be really careful.” Green held the patch of soil out to them with their best puppy dog eyes on, making it really difficult for White to say no. 

“Uh… okay.” They knelt down, and Green slowly eased the soil down until it was all the way into White’s hands. White didn’t move as they stare at the small life in their hands, as if in a standoff with it.

Until it moved.

“Eek! It’s moving!” White pulled their hands back, the soil (with the worm) falling from their hands, “Aah–”

“Wo-oah!” Green quickly moved their hands forward to catch the falling worm. It splatted onto Green’s hands.

Oh.

Oh God.

Did White just kill one of Green’s worms? An infant, no less? How were they possibly supposed to compensate for tha--

“-all good!” Green chirped, as the worm began wriggling around in Green’s hands again, “Let’s get you back down in there.”

They lowered the worm back into the soil, then reached over for their watering can.

“I’m– sorry.” White choked out.

“It’s alright.” Green hummed, “Worms are pretty durable, actually. They’ll be okay.” 

“You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure! Don’t worry about it.” 

Green began to migrate down the pathway, spritzing the soil with a light layer of water. White followed behind as if they were supervising, though knew nothing of the job description to tell whether they were doing well or not.

Worms began to pop up from the soil. Each time that they did, Green introduced White to each of them, telling them stories about their little quirks and behaviours. They even held some of them up to White, even if White didn’t take them.

Green wasn’t punishing them- taking away their right to see the worms up close just because they made a mistake, grumbling about how they should be better and yet never telling them that they were wrong in the first place. They continued to treat them like nothing had happened at all, like that was just something that happened and it wasn’t a big deal so long as nothing substantial came out of it. The worm was fine, everything–

–was fine.

It was odd. That even though they messed up, they were still there. They weren’t judged, they hadn’t been dropped out of favour. Green still sounded happy, excited even. 

Maybe they weren’t indebted to them for their actions– maybe they didn’t expect to be repaid some time or other. 

Because their debt didn’t represent who they were. It represented what they needed to do. Their relationship wasn’t transactional. 

Maybe the fact they kept Green so separate had more to do with their parents than them. With what it meant to be loved. 

By Green. In this life.

Whatever other people thought of that.  They tried not to let it matter.

“You okay?” Green stopped, glancing over at their partner.

“Yeah.” White answered, heavy, “Show me the rest of your worms.”