Guys, I wrote this whole story today. I'm shocked. It was really relieving to just sit down and write for a while.
This is definitely a bit of a different style than what most people in the fandom write, but I really enjoy it and think it works well for this story. I hope you enjoy!Warning: there is nudity, but it's nothing explicit. However, if you're offended by the word "naked," don't read it.
FA copy here:
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/5052394The Taste of PeppermintThe light glared down on me as I sat on the ground in front of the computer, my paws sitting on the keyboard. I had never bought a computer desk for my room, but I never really had bought much for myself. The light flickered. Pipes from downstairs thumped like a heart. Racing. Crashing.
Tiago, the words on the screen said.
It's been a really good six months with you. My eyes closed. My wolf had never been good with words, but an e-mail...
I just, I don't know what to say. You've meant the world to me.My barren room loomed over me as I leaned back against the bed. The clanging pipes stopped, paused, started. I didn't understand. I still don't understand. My paws perched on the keyboard like scarecrows. The room was naked.
Last week, Antonio and I went to the opera together --
Trial by Jury by Gilbert and Sullivan. I laughed at a couple whose love had ended. Antonio laughed, too, as his paw squeezed my knee. And when the judge proposed to the defendant's fiancé, Antonio kissed my cheek. The applause seemed to be for us, the happy gay couple, the one that would never break up. But maybe we were just a comedy.
I don't know what to say, the screen said.
I like you, wolfy, but I just... I don't know. I don't know. I didn't know. I was wolf.
Canis lupus. Cuetlachtli. Fenrir. Otsoa. Seff. Lope.
My paws rested coldly on the keyboard, and I didn't know what to say.
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"You always know what to say," said Antonio as we walked through the halls of Old Main, flowing with the stream of college students towards the front door. My ears perked up, and I grinned -- not sheepishly as I had when I first met him, but with a glow. "I really felt down about my car, but I think everything will work out."
"I told you it would." We stepped out through the glass doors into the bright Spring world. The green quad spread out in front of us with guys and girls sprawled out on the grass soaking in the first warm day of the year. I could feel the sun strike my fur, warm up my shirt. I forgot the cold months. "Accidents happen, but things get better. Hey, come on!". I grabbed his hand and pulled, running down the concrete steps.
"Whoa!". He tripped with me, and we fell face down on the lawn. A few laughs popped up around us, but the smell of the grass! I breathed in, tasting the dirt like golden peppermint.
Antonio put his paws underneath and tried to raise himself. "No, wait," I said, reaching out and pushing his head down. "Breathe in."
"Hey, stop that," he said, chuckling, but he put his head back down. I could hear the air rush into his black nose, watched his ear twitch.
"You can smell that, can't you?"
He looked over at me, then grinned. He closed his eyes and breathed in again, his face glowing like a wave splashing the world with rays of light. His eyes opened, and he lifted me up. "Sorry to make you fall."
My tail swished. "Why?"
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I'm sorry, it said.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. My back hurt as I leaned toward the computer. My cheeks were matted with moisture. I looked up, around the room at the white sterile walls. Blank, empty -- the product of six months.
A clang rang out from downstairs followed by a shout. The sounds rippled through my body like a gunshot. I reached back and grabbed my tail, hugged it against my face.
I'm sorry, it said,
but I can't do this any more. And I knew what he was saying.
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Two months ago, I sat with him on the third pew in church. His church. A Mormon church. I suppose it had been my church when I was younger, too, and I knew to play the part -- I wore a white shirt, yellow tie, black pants and shoes. Antonio had tried to pat the fur on my head down as I drove to the chapel, but I slapped his paws away. "I don't want to be too Mormon," I said, and he laughed.
The room had a high vaulted ceiling with small chandeliers hanging down, shining a warm yellow. The whole room was warm -- red padded pews, the wood panels along the walls, the smiling older fox with her hair in curls sitting in the front.
The bishop, a short badger with a wide smile and square glasses, stood up. "We will now have a musical number sung by Harold Icher accompanied by Antonio Jameson."
Antonio gave my shoulder a light squeeze and walked to the front, sitting down at the piano as a small otter stood on a box to see over the podium. The music flowed from the piano, and the otter sang.
How firm a foundation, ye Saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in his excellent word!
What more can he say than to you he hath said,
Who unto the Savior, who unto the Savior,
Who unto the Savior for refuge have fled?
I watched Antonio hunched over that piano, his tail swaying as he played, the complex rearrangement of that old hymn flowing from his hands like light. I could feel the warmth.
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid,
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, upheld by my righteous,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.
The warmth. I had not gone to church in ten years, but I could see it in his face.
He still believes this, I thought.
He believes. This wolf -- this twenty-five year old wolf -- almost shook as the music poured out.
When he invited me to come and listen to him, I asked, "Do you really think you're going to stay Mormon? I mean, we're dating."
That day, he just smiled and said, "I never see myself leaving."
The soul that on Jesus hath leaned to repose
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I'll never,
No, never.
I'll never,
No, never.
I'll never, no never, no never forsake.
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I fell on my bed, wanting to fall, wanting to hit something that would break me, something that would make me forget.
You knew this could happen, I told myself.
You knew the odds. But at the same time, I didn't. I didn't know for sure.
I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and ripped it off over my head, throwing it to the floor, stripping my pants and underwear off. I laid there, naked. Wolf.
Canis lupus. Cuetlachtli. Fenrir. Otsoa. Seff. Lope.
And Antonio was all those, too.
I looked up at the white cold ceiling, and imagined Antonio next to me back on the quad, lying in the grass. We were both naked, our clothes piled on top of each other on the empty sidewalks. "Can you smell that?" I ask him, and he leans in, kissing me deeply, his breath carrying the taste of peppermint. His fur chest pressing against mine, the first day of Spring shining around us, our tails swishing through the air. His paw strokes down my chest, my stomach, his claws combing through the fur as I look up at him, finally seeing his chestnut eyes that close. My own paw reaches down, touches him.
And I open my eyes, seeing the white ceiling, empty and alone above me.
