A bloody red piece of me

Dean lied awake in John’s arms, xyr hair sprawled upon the pillows, and xe watched them glisten with the bright red fading from a few months of neglecting a fresh dye. Xe felt the giant stir behind xem, and turned on xyr back to see him.

“Mmmmrnn-” John grumbled, clearly failing to be awake enough to speak.

“Good morning to you too,” Dean said aloud, awake for long enough to forget the tone.

“Woah,” John shook upon the noise, and forced his eyes to open to see the distress in Dean’s face, “what’s wrong?”

“Wha-? Oh, I was just looking at the,” xe pulled the hair into xyr hands and gathered it to start braiding it, “this.”

“Yeah?”

“I wanna dye it, but maybe I’ve had enough of red. It’s as close to ginger as it can be, I should expand…”

“Mhm.” the surprise faded upon learning the meaning of this distress, and he started fading back into the pillow.

“I wonder, should I go full blonde? I already have tips bleached here,” xe held up the bristle ends against the cloudy window, “Or try something further down the line? Purple? Blue?”

“No- not blue.” John put his hand over xyrs, pulling the hair away from the field of view.

“Hm. When did you become such color specialist?”

“I didn’t – Well, I don’t think it would…” he reconsidered the words, “I don’t think that color would-” Still wrong. “I’d like a brighter color more.”

“Mhm.” Dean repeated the dis-interested grunt from John earlier. “Any reason?”

“I don’t know.” he wondered. He did know. “I guess, you can dye it whatever you want. I’m not gonna stop you. But I don’t think cold color would, uh-” He was about to say it wouldn’t suit xem again. “Wouldn’t it be too big of a change?”

“That’s the point.”

“Yeah, but there’s change where I still recognize you and change where I-” before he could finish the sentence he felt a small, friendly punch at his chest and he laughed, “What?”

“Wouldn’t recognize me?” Dean shouted, laughing at the ludicrous idea, “Come on, what’s the real reason?”

“I like red! I’d like blonde too, probably! Or, like a bright brown brown.” Oh. Seamus. “Probably not brown. Blonde.”

“Okay. You’ve earned some respect of opinion on my looks by now, big boy.” Xe settled down on his chest, holding xyr chin with xyr hands, watching John’s panicked expression calm down. Xe brushed xyr hand against his cheek, softly following the cheekbone, lips, then his scars down to the chin.

“Now, one more thing. I could go out and get someone to do it for me, or I could do it myself in a very distressing hour over the tub, or… I could ask someone.”

“Mhm. Is it expensive?”

“Does it matter?”

“Suppose not.”

Dean stared at him, until John opened his eyes again. “Wait, ask who?”

“Well-”

“Me? I’ve never done it. I mean, I would do it. For you.”

Xe smiled, and gave his lip a soft kiss, “I meant Liz.”

“Oh.” He flushed. “Of course. Oh, she’s coming home next week. Unexpected stop. Should I ask her?”

“I’ll do it.”

John’s warm body comforted Liz from behind as they lay in his bed, still dreaming of brighter days, when the doors opened. Dean’s high heels clacked on the floors, no matter how hard xe tried to step lightly, as xe approached the bed, with warm hand reaching John’s shoulder. He opened his eye, already knowing the only person who would be that gentle with rousing him awake, and smiled. One of his hands was under Liz’s head, and he tried his best to not move it as he turned his head up, waiting for Dean to lean over for a kiss.

“Good morning,” xe whispered with smile in xyr voice, and gave him what he asked for.

The hand that was not trapped under his girlfriend reached over for Dean’s head and pulled xem closer, enjoying the kiss and drowning in the perfume. “Morning, darling.” he said softly.

Dean’s smile didn’t fade as xe paused to wonder for a moment, when xe said a bit louder, “Liz? Mornin’!”

Elizabeth stirred, and finally freed John’s hand to get the blood circulation back, then smiled faintly as she waved wordlessly.

“Where are you going?” John asked, rubbing his eye to get the sleep out, observing Dean’s clothes. Xe was wearing a light yellow dress, a thin belt holding it up, and a purse with long golden chain over xyr shoulder.

“I just arrived. You guys slept alone,” xe said as a matter of fact, reminding him something so obvious he should be aware of, “Got you breakfast too.”

“Time sensitive?”

Dean put the bag of pastries on the table under the window, “It won’t be warm anymore, but it will keep the softness.”

“Thank you, honey.” His eyes were already closed again as he pulled Liz back into a hug and held her tight. “Just a minute.” Slurred, sleepy voice came out, before Dean laughed and the clicking of heels faded into the distance.

“Good morning, Majesty.”

“Hi, Dean. I told you to call me by my name.”

“I know, I know, but it’s so early, you feel more royal than ever.”

Harriet was in the dining room, sitting over a coffee, reading the newspapers when Dean entered loudly, lined directly for the table and stared eating an apple.

“Can I ask you something dumb?” Xe said through the eating.

“Define dumb.” She did not look up from the reading.

“Just something I don’t want to ask John. Regarding the castle?”

“Fine.”

“Are there many, uh- spare rooms? Like bedrooms with a bathroom? I mean, your partner has one, right?”

“Correct. I was wondering when will you get sick of sleeping with two big people in same bed.”

“I’m not.” Xe chewed without speaking for a second, waiting for Harriet to say something, but also waiting to not speak with full mouth. “But I’d like to move some things into one. No reason to keep empty rooms while my clothes burst from my wardrobes.”

“No need for the Queen’s permission to do this, but if you want a verbal approval, go ahead. I’ll find out which one it is sooner or later.” she sipped her coffee, and finally gave Dean a proper look. “Cute dress.”

"Heh. Thanks."

Dean sat in a small chair in the bathroom of xyr new room in the castle, nervously looking down at the towel xe was holding, while Elizabeth applied the bleach with a brush, wearing gloves after a persuasion from Dean to not damage her skin.

“So you’ve done this before?”

“I joined my crew with wild curly hair. Few other black girls volunteered to help me make dreadlocks, and in exchange, I dyed their hair for them.” She knelt behind xem, sounding as confident as she could be, holding the longest hair she’s ever seen, “Well, it was shorter, and – uh, curlier.”

“It’s not that different.”

“Yeah.” A lie to comfort Liz fell right through her hands, as another strand of hair got lost and touched xyr shirt.

“It’s fine, it’s old dirty shirt for this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” she sighed, and got the hair back into her control. She took one last dip of the bleach, and tried to touch up the rest of the roots properly, checking them again. A bit touched Dean’s neck, and xe just quietly handed her the wet towel.

“Shit, sorry,” she quickly cleaned it off. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m used to it. You’re doing great.”

Liz smiled, and tied the hair up while the dye activates.

Dean turned around, putting the towel over xyr shoulders in meantime, and Liz sat down on the floor in front of xem.

“So, while I have you here,” xe fidgeted with xyr fingers, “can I ask you for something?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Not for something, but – Well, something.”

“Yeah.” she nodded, smiling faintly at the nervous freckled mess in front of her, “Go ahead.”

“Would you want to – be interested, that is, in seeing a few paintings?”

“To… buy?”

“Wh- No,” Dean laughed, “that’s what I get for wording it like a highschooler asking out his crush, huh.”

Liz laughed, not lingering on the word crush, but remembering it, “Yeah, a bit.”

“Want to go to a gallery? Or a museum? Or, uh, for a walk I guess? If you’re not interested in art?”

Xe had been thinking about an art gallery for few days then, for they’ve always been a comforting place for xem. Xe kept thinking, ‘if anything will get awkward, quiet, or tiring, xe can always talk a bit about the art pieces, point out what xe likes, and what is unique about them from a professional standpoint.’ Xe considered checking up on some of the art history notes from school, but that would only come the night before, in absolute anxiety, and most importantly: if she agrees.

“I’d love to.” Liz broke xem out of the thoughts, reaching for xyr hand. Xe smiled, warm and wide, almost tears in xyr eyes.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

They stood in front of a painting of a dark evening, a field full of tall corn sprawling in front of the figures in the painting, who check for the clouds, looking for something.

Elizabeth wore a loose dark blue shirt tucked into her high trousers, held by the bag she had over her shoulder. The color of the shirt would almost match, if not for the light the figures were looking for, absently highlighted in the color scheme.

“I couldn’t see it for a while either, but you can see the glow behind the crops here too,” xe pointed to the opposite side of the painting, the character seeming as far from it as Dean and Liz were.

“And you just remember to look for it?”

“I guess I wouldn’t if you just asked me about the painting without seeing it to bring up visual memories. It’s one of the things that changes how you look at it, so you remember it.”

“I see.” She listened, and when she thought xe wasn’t looking, she’d sneak a peek at xyr eyes, full of wonder despite seeing this painting for she-wouldn’t-know-how-many-th time.

“How often do you come here?”

“Here? Barely. I’ve never seen original of this one.”

Her thoughts were quickly thrown into a new light.

“Oh. So it’s still special.”

“I think every painting is special,” xe said as xe started walking, nudging her hand to follow them, “each took certain time and investment to finish, you know? It must’ve felt like something to the author. Even if it was the feeling that you must put it on the paper, no matter how it is, just so it’s no longer inside you.”

She followed, looking at the paintings, thinking of those words.

“I think I understand. Sometimes things pull you and you won’t rest until you reach them.”

"Yeah."

Xe rushed past few paintings that to Liz, looked interesting too, but she followed. Xe must’ve been reaching something xe was looking forward to, and maybe they could return after that, and she could ask about them.

Until, one painting made her stop. Dean kept walking for a few steps, until xe reached a door and was about to turn, when xe noticed Liz is behind, standing in front of one. Xe walked back, trying, and failing, to see what the painting was from the side. Only when xe landed in front of it, xe asked:

“What is it?”

“Oh. Sorry, it’s just-” she looked at it, thinking it was so obvious why. Dean smiled.

It was a painting of a couple near a river, where a woman sat on a small rock, naked, facing away from the point of view of the painting, and behind her, a man, washing her hair.

They both read the title, “Lovers’ afternoon.”

“Do you know it?”

“I recognize the author. He doesn’t look like either of them, so I guess he passed by a couple that thought they were private. Huh, a bit creepy.” Xe smiled.

“Oh, come on, that’s not what it is!” Liz smiled too, picking up on the jokey tone of her companion, though she tried to dismiss it. “Look.”

She exchanged a look with them, and pointed at the ginger hair of the woman, and the dark skin of the man.

“Mhm.” Dean agreed, looking at Liz instead, “I know.”

She was, for a change, the one who got lost in looking at the painting, and xe watched her eyes light up. Xe took a deep breath, and slowly, gently, oh-so carefully, xe reached for her hand. Her look changed, as she registered, and without looking at Dean, she just looked down, and allowed her hand to be held.

“It’s the most common reason why people like art, when they see themselves in it.” Xe pulled some of xyr newly blonde hair to front, and watched it fall on the red shirt. Xe wore very loose straight pants, with a short heeled sandals, almost too afraid to wear a skirt, and anticipate something that would not happen. Xe looked at the painting again.

“If only just us,” Liz said, squeezing xyr hand more, “The riverbed is the one near the castle, where we sometimes go.”

“Huh, it really is.” Xe smiled. “Is this us in the future?”

Elizabeth laughed, harder than she wanted to, and had to hold her mouth from being too loud, as Dean laughed along with her, quieter and calmer, just from the contagious air around her.

“Do you plan to-?” xe said through laughs, letting her hold xyr shoulder to stand straight.

“Shit, I guess I’ll think about it.”

Xe kept smiling as xe took her hand again, and started walking. Xe wouldn’t lose her behind this time, hand in hand.

They reached it, the painting of a blonde woman in red.

"Oh."

“We see ourselves in it. I was so excited to show you this one, I even wore red and pants for it.”

Liz smiled, and whispered, very quietly, “You were excited to show me?”

“Of course!” Dean held her hand to xyr chest, as xe looked at it. “You see, she has-”

Xe told her about the details, and the background, and the artist, and she listened, until she knew the history of this one painting, and she could recall it, in the light, excited voice of Dean Wayland, taking her on a tour.

She watched the painting, looking for the details xe would point out, always looking for a small space to look at her companion again, to see the freckles around xyr eyes, the blonde stray hair that would stick out of place as xe spoke, even the ever-so-subtle hairs on xyr jaw, in front of xyr ears, showing a small hint of a suppressed beard trying to stick out.

“Liz?”

Her eyes focused, Dean clearly staring back at her, the green eyes piercing her own, so brown they were almost black, subtly switching between left and right as xe watched.

“You like it?”

“Yeah.” she answered. I do like you.

“The red isn’t the same shade-” xe said, then quickly shut xyr mouth, “but it doesn’t matter, right?”

The soft, quiet voice chilled Elizabeth’s spine.

“You can call me Hope.”

“Oh. I thought you don’t like it.”

“I like when people I can trust to not associate it with- uhm, her, use it.”

“Of course.” Xe whispered. “May I?”

The question came out as a breath, barely spoken, as the world stopped, and Liz nodded. Dean reached for her cheek, and as xe held it gently, almost afraid to mess this up, xyr other hand reached further, and held her neck, to pull her closer, and she stepped forward, and finally – finally!

Her lips were soft, warm, so similar to John’s, and yet, so unique and deliciously unique to her. Xe felt xyr waist being held, and pulled closer all the same, and her other hand on xyr back, holding xem steadily.

When they took a moment to breathe, a mere inches away from each other, breathing in each others’ faces, they both opened their eyes slowly, inspecting each other. The freckles, the dark brown skin, the soft red lips, the tall, now also red brown lips, the green eyes, the brown eyes, the blue strands, the loose dreadlock threatening to not be held by her ear anymore, the pale hand on her cheek, and the dark hand reaching for xyr cheek.

“Hope…” xe whispered, right before xyr eyes darted to the side, and watched a person pass, “do you have the same thoughts as I do?”

“Bathroom?”

“Yes.”

Xe took her hands, and lead her there.

John was sitting behind the long table in the main hall, listening to his sister’s endless stream of news from meetings he did not attend, looking over the papers trying to decipher which one should he be paying attention to at that time, wondering whether she wants his advice or just needs someone to tell all this to, while his dinner sat next to the papers, slowly but surely getting cold.

He heard the tall doors open, then close, and then the regular, human sized doors open, close, until the ‘guests’ reached the doors to the room they were in, through which they’d have to pass to reach the sleeping chambers.

Liz and Dean came giggling, finishing an anecdote from earlier, as they noticed him and both waved. He waved back, smile on his lips as soon as he heard them behind the doors.

“How was it?” he interrupted whatever Harriet was saying, and she rolled her eyes, knowing there would be no way she could get his attention when those two were present.

“Educational.” Liz answered, handing him one of the brochures. He held it, but kept looking at them.

“Wasn’t Hope the one wearing blue and Dean the one wearing red?” his smile grew even wider as he spoke.

They both looked at each other, panicked. “Oh.” came out in unison. He knew, then, it could only get better.