Chapter Text
Greaves stared intently at the rivulets of blood flowing through the tiny channels that criss-crossed the skin on the top of her wrists and hands. Her life was falling apart. Her life was in her hands, its river flowed across them, flowing from the great gashing tributaries of veins and arteries that she harnessed that night. She watched an especially ambitious drop of blood form flowing out from her fingertip, the bottom of it bulging out, crimson, edging closer, closer, gravity dragged it down to the drain. Blop. A tiny red spider took form on the bone white porcelain in the sink. Legs of fluid outstretched, an amoeba of red stretching out as far as it could, its spattered pattern splayed out on a blank sterile backdrop. Greaves had made a shallow cut tonight. She liked the way blood danced across her skin, like watching raindrops pool up on the side of the car window on the highway.
So Rose didn’t like her. So Rose was probably getting plowed by her douchy boyfriend while Greaves bled alone in the bathroom. At least in that moment, Greaves could just think about something else. Finals, college, romance, transition, none of it mattered as long as she felt the life flowing out from her. Even just a trickle. A bad habit. She’d have to clean up. Deeply embarrassing. What a nuisance. She thought back to the cleaning up scene from the movie It as she put gauze on her arm and washed out the sink. What fucking misery. The earthly constraints of life rebounded to her senses as she got up and got a serious headrush. A fuzziness wrapped around her vision and her head felt lighter than air while her arms felt heavy and slovenly.
I really fucking need to stop doing this shit. She always thought this to herself after nights like this. She had gone 9 months without relapsing. Greaves thought about the last time she did it. Her mind wandered.
It was springtime, the weather was drizzly and miserable. Wind and rain battered her face as she hurried into a busy cafe, led by the hand of a woman slightly taller than her and much older. Greaves shook out her awkward not-quite-shoulder length hair like a dog at the entrance, and the woman by her side smiled at her antics.
“Are you sure this walk was worth it?” asked Greaves.
“If you’ve never tried the spicy chai here, then yes, it’s pretty obviously worth it, Alice.” Maeve reassured her.
Greaves eyes widened and she leaned in close to Maeve, “Can you please not call me that in public… I’m still, like. Y’know. Sorry.”
Maeve rolled her eyes, “You’re gonna have to get used to it at some point.”
She was about an inch or two taller than Greaves, and had a slightly wider build, but her hips and legs were more well defined from time spent in the gym. Her hair was a fading blue from the last time that she’d dyed it, and it flowed like water down the middle of her back. Her light brown eyes kept glancing at Greaves, sometimes twitching or slightly watering up, though this was something that Greaves hadn’t picked up on. She’d unzipped her light pink windbreaker that exposed a cute Chicago Bears themed sweater underneath, laden with waving patterns encircling the logo in the center.
They both ordered their drinks and Maeve paid for the both of them to Greaves’ protest. Then Greaves picked out a small table in the back corner of the cafe that only had a few crumbs on it that she swept away for Maeve. She stopped to just look at her. They’d met on the local discord, Maeve had messaged her out of the blue asking about her life. Greaves had never felt so seen before. Nobody had ever reached out to her like that.
Maeve tapped Greaves’ arm lightly, checking in on her. “How are you feeling right now? Staying grounded?” she asked.
Greaves nodded her head and smiled. It was hard for her to hide the exuberance bubbling up from her bones, spending time with her had been the highlight of her week for the past 5 months since they had gotten to know each other. They hadn’t made anything official but Greaves knew that Maeve liked her, and that was all she needed.
Their drinks both got called up, and they both went to grab them from the counter. Maeve had ordered it with whipped cream, which Greaves wasn’t a fan of, but she ordered the same thing. She wanted to prove that she wasn’t picky. They went back to their seats and both took timid little sips from their cups, Greaves’ eyes widened in excitement. It was really good. Rich, smooth, with a depth and complexity that didn’t overstay its welcome, followed by a punctuated kick of spice. Maeve read her like a book and smiled at her, proud that she enjoyed this delicacy as much as her.
“Pretty good, huh?” Maeve commented.
“Yeah!” Greaves nodded her head quickly. Her big toothy grin was showing, something she usually felt deeply ashamed of, but around Maeve, she didn’t care. She felt like Maeve actually saw her for who she was. It felt good.
Maeve opened her mouth, about to say something, and then restrained herself. Greaves was too lost in the moment to pick up on it. She took one big sip and then winced and held her mouth open, trying to let in cool air to stop her mouth’s burning.
“Ow ow ow ow ow” her yelps of pain were gargled as she kept her mouth open in vain to cool the tea in there. A bit of chai dribbled out and formed dark rivulets on her chin.
Maeve stifled a giggle. She felt bad for Greaves but couldn’t help her reaction to the slapstick comedy of it. She quickly recomposed herself, “Oh no, are you ok?”
“I burned my tongue.” she said, her mouth numb.
“Be careful! Too much of a good thing can burn, y’know.” Maeve’s tone darkened at the end.
“I’ll be fine.” Greaves laughed it off.
“Good. Good.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Greave’s mouth burned enough that the chai stopped tasting as sweet, and the bitter elements took over. Maeve looked down guiltily and twirled her fingers in patterns on the table. She looked up at Greaves forlornly, bittersweet feelings flowed through her.
“Hey, there’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” she said.
“What’s up?” she responded.
Maeve was silently grimacing, her gaze went to the floor.
“What is it?” Greaves inquired, again.
Maeve took a deep breath and sighed, before explaining, “Well. Meeting you has been amazing. You helped me through probably the hardest time in my life. You supported me through my divorce, you grounded me when I was scared, and just. You’ve done so much. I feel very lucky to have met you. And I think that for the first time in my life, I’ve felt more at peace with myself, more able to parse what I really want. You’ve made me feel safe, Alice. You’ve made me feel heard, and now I can stand to listen to myself, and to listen to my own desires. And, well. I think I’m polyamorous.”
Greaves heart fell down 17 flights of stairs. “Ok.” she responded.
“And it isn’t that you’re not enough. You are wonderful. You are everything. But, I feel a similar way for a lot of people. You are special. And other people are special too. It’s nothing to do with you, I know you spiral about stuff a lot but trust me honey, this is all me. Thank you for giving me the space to figure myself out.” Maeve told her.
Greaves paused. This lighting is really unflattering for her, holy shit. Really unfortunate overhead lamp that accentuates her browbone. I can’t believe I never noticed that before. Wow. God my mouth is so fucking dry and numb, that chai didn’t do me any fucking favors, christ. Fuck...
Greaves eye twitched, but she didn’t feel anything. A great big heaping pile of feelings and love and desire and emotions had sloughed off from inside her body cavity and all that was left was an empty numbness. Just nothing. Absolutely nothing. She put her arm up, and her hand went over her face to try and shield herself from sight. She rested her chin on her wrist for a moment before putting it back down on the table softly. She fidgeted in her chair. She tapped out little rhythmic arpeggios on the side of her leg. She showed no weakness. The sides of her mouth twisted and contorted in ticcy gesticulations, flashing between portraits of indifference and a grimacing smile. She showed no weakness. Her breathing sped up and she closed her eyes and shook her head, slowly. Maeve looked on, worried. No need to worry. No weakness was shown.
Maeve again tried to break the silence, “I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me too. I know that polyamory is a dealbreaker for you and just. You deserve honesty. You deserve truth. I’m sorry.”
Greaves looked back up with baleful eyes. Nothing she could say in this moment would be nice or productive. “You can make your choice. I hope you have fun.” venom laced her voice as the words escaped her mouth. She didn’t even feel like she was saying them.
Maeve sighed and rolled her eyes, “It’s not about fun. It’s about being honest with myself and holding space for the people in my life. Being honest with you.”
Greaves made a sound close to a laugh, but no joy was present in it. “Ok. I hope everything works out for you. I’m gonna head out.”
“I hope the world treats you kindly.” Maeve said as they both got up to leave.
Greaves could only nod as she hurriedly left the cafe into the miserably drizzly Chicago street.
Rivulets danced and separated and recombined on her face. The rain pelted her. Nobody could tell she was crying. She showed no weakness.
Greaves always wondered what she could have done differently. Maybe she hadn’t been enough. She left the local discord group quickly after Maeve had effectively broken up with her. She hadn’t left it quickly enough to avoid seeing Maeve flirting with a 19 year old girl though. Maybe Greaves was too old for her. Maybe she just needed to be hotter or more vibrant or desirable in a million little ways.
Tears and blood flowed out from her. It only made sense that the sea was the embodiment of sensation. It flowed with blood. With tears. Salt and water and life, all inside of her. Dripping, safely and cleanly out through the drain. The numbing went away. The pain came back. I wonder what she would do if I sent her a picture of this. Maybe I should carve her name into my leg, and under it, fuck you. Or maybe over it. God, the look on her face. God, that fucking bitch. Why did I ever put up with her. She wasn’t even hot. What’s wrong with me. Jesus christ.
Greaves’ mind came back to the present. What was the point. She felt her emotional pain displaced by her physical pain. But none of it really went away. She knew this was a temporary solution. She felt too much like a coward for a permanent one, but hey. All in due time. Finals were coming soon. She couldn’t afford to lose sleep over a straight girl.
She did though.