Up until that moment, I had been unsure whether or not I wanted to live. The months before, I lost count how many, I had become a ghost living inside papery flesh. I trailed my small apartment, dragging my feet to work, from work, and finally sitting down at my desk and squeezing my brain until it hurt on projects that would die before they even began. But then, when the winter months began, I saw Felix for the first time.
He, or as Felix prefers, she, stood there, throwing her arms up and ordering the photographers around her with a sense of ease. Not once did I feel her voice to be threatening, not once did I feel her powerful gazes to be cold. She commanded the world at ease, as if she was an engineer learning how to operate equipment with a model, and her photographers were the detailed pieces at her disposable.
So, inevitably, I fell in love at once. I strayed before the dimly lit room, watching through a half-open door. I was supposed to be on the second floor, delivering a speech from my advertising company I could care less about. I had a few minutes, I told myself, trying desperately to pull away from the shocking green eyes and the soft folds of her hair, falling down like angelic strands. At the time I thought not of her gender or of her sexual preference. All I knew was that I had to have that powerful, accented voice directed at me.
My watch beeped at me and I rubbed my worn eyes, I had five minutes left to dawdle. I noticed a mirror slanted against one of the chairs and I casually walked towards it, squatting so I could see my features. It was only an excuse to get closer to Felix, even if it was for a moment. I adjusted my suit and patted down my lapel, trying to ignore my face. My eyes flicked upwards briefly and I nearly gasped in horror.
My features seemed to have rotted while I was drifting the months past. I had yet to speech formally to my coworkers. We spoke through door and written messages. No one had seen me. I doubted my dismal little secretary with a year of prison behind her had the heart to care. I stared at my gaunt eyes and the plumy bags hanging under them. My lips were pale and my cheeks shrunken. I really did look like a ghost.
A loud gasp ripped through the air. For a moment I thought it was me, but then I realized the person behind me. My heart pounded wildly in my ears. I turned, tucking my tawny-gray hair behind an ear. It was the only thing left of my natural body that retained any beauty.
Felix clicked her tongue loudly and bent down, pinching my cheeks and turning them towards her. I tried to seem nonchalant. This grew steadily more difficult as her catlike eyes penetrated me, right through my head. She shook her head. I assumed she was born female then, but the boyish slant of her jaw and the tone of her voice so close made me think once more. I didn't particularly care whether or not she was a he. I thought perhaps it would be easier in fact to cope with a crush if Felix was male, dressed in a tight pink cocktail dress and exposing her pretty collar bones.
"You look like you haven't slept or eaten in years!" She cried out, gesturing for someone behind her.
"I'm just a little bit tired, that's all." I muttered weakly.
My eyes betrayed me and stared at the chest only an inch away from my nose. It was large. Implants or stuffing could have done that, though. I tried not to focus too much, but my vision was trembling.
"Are you the spokesperson from the advertising company?"
I nodded.
"Then you must get fixed up." She let go of me, much to my disappointment.
A woman with a tray of makeup swooped by me and dabbed something under my eyes violently and quickly. I turned back to the mirror and I really did gasp this time: I looked alive. And I wanted to stay that way, just so I could have those warm hands clamp down on my chin again.
…
"You really didn't have to treat me to coffee." Felix said playfully.
I smiled at her across the table. She had a knotted scarf of light blue silk hanging around her throat. Her jacket was of firm material and her pants cotton and warm, perfect for the swirling, light snow outside. I kept smiling. She knew how to dress, no joke.
"I wanted to. What can I say?" I said back, taking a sip of coffee.
I hadn't spent much money in the past months. I used just enough for a few fruits and vegetables. To be honest, I didn't have much of an appetite for anything then. Now, with this new conquest, all my desires were reawakened, like water to dried acrylic. All my colors were alive, despite the deprivation of anything but white and gray outside. I picked up a dry biscuit from the basket in the center of the table and crunched down on it, trying not to seem like an animal.
"I never asked, how did you presentation go last week?"
"Great," I muttered through a mouthful, I swallowed hard, blushing, "They accepted our ideas and I even got a tiny raise."
"Good. Those guys up there can be stingy." Felix shook her head slowly. She was the model for the cover pictures of the magazine the company sent out once a month. The company had spread its fingers into nearly everything. Felix's slim figure and bony arms was subject of heated debate amid a good amount of my cohorts.
Look at them, advertising anorexia like it's a new fashion!
Hey, look, maybe she's just thin. We can't judge on figure…
But think about it, have you seen any plump models?
Well we can't say no to a company giving us money.
Good point…
They would settle down until one found another point to bring up and would scream it across the room, waving their fists in frustration. When the boss walked in, usually to get water or to flirt, we quieted down and the debate was finally laid to rest for another few minutes. My head already hurt with everything they had to say.
I had been absorbed in my thoughts, so much so that I spilled coffee down my knuckles when Felix reached over to grab my hand. She laughed and apologized. I waited, wondering what she wanted to do. She raised my arm gently. Her fingers barely grazed my hands. Her long red nails made faint dents in my palm. Underneath my sleeve there was a mountain of crumbs. I quickly swept it into a napkin, apologizing, and my hand still burning with her touch.
I was quickly tripping down the rabbit hole.
…
Alone in my bed I finally had time to think. Night settled thickly in a frosted way only winter could offer. My head pressed into the pillow. Felix kept dancing in my mind, throwing her hands up in anger or grinning at some silly joke I made. My heart swooned. I never knew how much a person could do. Yet her skinny arm had been flung down into the ditch I was lost in. I grabbed hold and with amazing strength she pulled me up, without doing anything.
I wondered if she liked me. I wondered if she had only agreed to our few dates out of pity. She didn't seem annoyed or bothered by my persistence. Yet sometimes it was hard to tell with someone used to feigning happiness.
Tortured by these thoughts I turned in bed, gripping my pillow. A red flower blossomed in the corner, a reminder of the times I woke late at night to find my nose bleeding from dehydration or something… I didn't pay attention to the doctor.
Maybe Felix already had a boyfriend or girlfriend. Maybe I was just a friend. I groaned loudly. I couldn't bare it. I couldn't handle being only a friend. My feelings surged until I barely knew what to do with them, until I wanted to rip them out with my heart and incinerate them, throw them off a cliff, and I knew I couldn't because they were omnipresent. I could do what I wanted but like stubborn flies they remained.
The thoughts dragged me down to sleep and I was lost for a short while.
…
Felix's best friend was a CEO for some sort of company. I couldn't listen because I was afraid her stare would eat me.
She stood before me while I waited for Felix in front of his office. We had planned to go see a play, Antony and Cleopatra. I had a present for him in my pocket, something I had worked hard to make sure he would like and that he did not have. I rocked on my heels, trying to fend off the cold that really didn't bother me that much. The fire in my heart was sufficient in warming me up.
As I began to doubt how much Felix would like it, a woman stopped next to me. She was nearly a foot taller than I was—which isn't saying much—and had a stern expression on her face. She gave me her burning glare, her hands deep in her pockets. Her brown hair was loose, catching vagabond snowflakes. She wore a floral pin in her hair and her bangs brushed past her forehead. She was remarkably beautiful.
She pulled her hand out, a golden ring glistening there, and jabbed my shoulder.
"I'm Elizaveta and I've known Felix nearly my entire life. I knew her when she started wearing pink nail polish I loaned her, I knew her when she purchased her first dress, and I know her when she got her dream job. If you dare break her heart I break your damn face do you hear me?" She threatened.
I shrunk back, nodding.
Her expression softened briefly, before twisting back to stone.
"You understand she is a transsexual who hasn't undergone surgery?"
This came as news to me. I had only thought of what was hidden beneath her clothes once or twice.
"Well, now you know," she said, reading my expression easily, "Then what are you? A bisexual? A homosexual?"
I didn't really know so I just muttered something that pleased Elizaveta quickly and made her several degrees warmed towards me.
"I'm attracted to Felix, I love her personality, and I don't really care about bodies all that much…"
Elizaveta's jabbing finger turned into a nice pat on my shoulder. "Good." She nodded.
The glass doors swung open and Felix, bundled up with her slim pink purse at her side, sidled up to me. She looked at Elizaveta and embraced her.
"Was she bullying you?" Felix said, grinning.
"No, she was just protecting you." I muttered.
Elizaveta seemed pleased. She swung her red purse towards her front, which pushed her rather massive chest up. She dug around the inner linings. I had a feeling everything in the world could be located in that purse. She pulled up a black tube of lipstick and handed it to Felix.
"Thanks for letting me borrow it, but I don't think the color does me well." She said.
Felix tucked it into her purse and they spoke for a few minutes. Elizaveta eventually pulled away, waving goodbye to us and making heavy steps away. Her gait was commandeering, somewhat dyke-ish. I decided I liked her.
"Her wild blood makes her so violent," Felix explained, taking my hand in hers.
I looked down, my blood rising to my cheeks. Felix smiled and nuzzled my neck briefly, her hair soft as sunlight. "You'll call me 'girlfriend' now, you hear?"
"So I'm 'boyfriend'?"
We started dating officially and I allowed myself to fall in love fully.
…
As night drew on, the seasons melting into spring, my phone lit up. I picked it up, shielding it from the lamplight's glare. A nearly finished project lay on my desk. A few more touches and it would be presentable.
Felix: "Super POed right now."
Me: "Why?"
Felix: "We've barely even KISSED yet. Can you believe that?!"
Me: "Well it never really came up…"
Felix: "I'm like really mad though. How about I come over now?"
Me: "Sure, I'm not busy."
Felix: "You lie."
Me: "Yes, but it's just a solo project. I can finish it whenever."
Felix: "I'll be over in 30 mins."
Me: "Okay."
Me: brimming over with excitement.
I could not concentrate on my project. The numbers leaked from my head and all I could imagine was Felix in another one of her moods, swinging from one extreme to another. This was one of her good extremes. I got up and began to prepare the house.
The door received a not so gentle pounding. I rushed to open it and Felix stood there, her cheeks bright red and her eyes barely focused. I felt a cold stone forming in my throat. She was drunk. She threw herself over me and kissed my cheeks and lips. I shut the door behind her and half-carried half-dragged her to the couch. She plumped down and began to cry wildly. I took her light spring jacket, purple, and set it aside. She sat in her dress, her painted toes up on the couch. Her hair was once in a bun. Now the strands had come loose.
She brought her hands to her face to cry. I brought her a mug of steaming tea and sat next to her, pulling her to my shoulder and rubbing her back. I waited to hear the story.
She spilled several times and I had to pull the dress off of her to dry. I saw the laced pink bra beneath, stuffing poking out of the front, damp with tea. She had sobered up somewhat now and was unlatching her bra. I stiffened, though I knew nothing underneath it was explicit exactly. I rushed to my room and brought out a pair of blue pajamas. She pulled those on.
For a moment I thought she would look like a boy with long hair. She didn't. She looked like a scrawny, miserable woman in oversized men's clothing. She pulled her legs up to her chest.
"Ohhh I don't know what to do!" She cried. Her voice was deeper under the influence of alcohol.
"What happened, darling?" I asked gently, brushing hair away from her face. She looked at me, teary eyed.
I brushed those tears away and kissed her cheek. A smile appeared on her lips.
"Wait, did you drive here?" I asked suddenly.
She shook her head. "Noooo, I had a coworker drop me off. I told him this was my house. Guess I can't make him take me home anymore or take him to my home." She laughed sheepishly.
I wanted to ask what was wrong, but that would destroy her good mood. I wanted her to remain taciturn, at least I didn't want to be the cause for her tears. Luckily I didn't have to. She looked at her toes, rubbing her thumb along the tattoo of a winged heart.
"Am I pretty girl?" She asked softly.
"No. You are the most beautiful woman I know." I said gently, rubbing her back.
"You flatter me, darling…" She said and leaned back.
We stared at each other for longer than I could stand. She reached over, her fingers curling around my nape, and pulled me towards her for a long kiss. Her breath smelled of wine.
I didn't find out what happened that night, but I did find out that my love for Felix was unbreakable.
We lay in the dark, holding hands tightly, spent. She whispered, under her breath:
"Never let me go."
…
Felix was born in a rural neighborhood. Next door Elizaveta lived and she would become his first and, for some time, only friend. Felix had no siblings and would play by himself near the windows, with anything he could find.
His mother was fond of taking pipe cleaners and twisting them into shapes of dolls for him to play with. He did so merrily and his father begrudgingly allowed it. When he turned six, old enough for school, his father came down heavily on his playing with dolls and told him it was time to become a man.
"As a child you can play like a girl, but that time is long gone, Felix," he said in gentle Polish.
Felix, who loved his father, didn't argue it. He went to school like a good boy and did his homework. Afterwards he would go next door and play with Elizaveta.
Elizaveta allowed him to play with her dolls and stuffed animals. She was not popular with the other girls due to her nearly brutal nature. She had a hateful friendship with a nearby albino boy. Her mother bought her girl's items and her father boy's items, shaping a well-rounded young girl.
Felix pretended to be the damsel in distress, wearing a Halloween costume, and Elizaveta would swoop in to save him. They played this way until fourth grade when boys from school caught them at it in the playground, Felix thankfully without a dress, and they laughed. They mocked Elizaveta for being such a tomboy and cutting her hair short. They mocked Felix for being too girly. They spat the words their parents used back out, barely understanding anything but the poisoned hatred.
For some time Felix and Elizaveta both grew quiet about what they truly enjoyed. Felix wore boy's clothing and played sports he didn't like. Elizaveta sucked up to dresses and tried make-up. She liked that part to an extent, but always found herself asked Felix to help her apply some before some sort of get-together with friends.
These proved to be the only moments until they entered the eleventh grade where they could be themselves. Elizaveta would pucker up aggressively for the make-up. Felix would laugh and put lipstick on himself to show that she needed to relax. She laughed too and would let Felix take control of her face.
The years passed by painfully despite each other's presence. The girls quickly realized that Elizaveta only half-heartedly agreed to conform to them. The boys saw Felix's inability to comment on a girl's appearance outside of her outfit.
The ousted teenagers turned back to each other and came to a stunning realization: be you and only you. You shouldn't waste your life on being someone else. It's pointless. Also, don't give a damn about what anyone else has to say to you.
Elizaveta finally joined the rougher sports, wore make-up occasionally with Felix's guidance, and dated boys and girls alike.
Felix wore dressed, grew out his hair, and mostly hid from his father until he had the courage, at age nineteen, to tell him that he did not like women but rather liked being a woman. His father grew silent for a year.
One evening, the same evening Felix was accepted for his modeling job, he received a phone call from his father.
"I love you, even in a dress."
Felix cried the rest of the night, drunk with happiness, and finally, undeniably free. That night he began using the feminine pronouns. Her coworkers accepted, regarding the business and that at least half of them were not really all that straight either. Felix relaxed into her life.
Her happiness influenced me and I was grateful every moment.
…
"We should get married."
"No!"
I was baffled. I could only slump my shoulders and look at her in my arms, her hands on my sides and her forehead nuzzled up to my chest. Her eyes were glimmering with excitement. That "no" had more to it.
"No?" I asked meekly.
"No, you can't just say it like that, baby, you have to get down on your knee in some place fancy."
"All right," I said, thinking of where I should do it.
I decidedly consulted Elizaveta on the matter the next day. She sat on my couch, the same one Felix had drunkenly sobbed on nearly a year before. She considered it for some time, humming. She leaned back on the chair, part of her chin disappearing behind the blue collar of her shirt.
"She said she wanted a restaurant." I offered.
She shook her head, her curls bouncing. "She's manipulative when she wants to be. She hoped you wouldn't choose a restaurant because she said that, since she would be expecting it and all. Try to be more creative."
I pondered it carefully, poised on the chair with my feet dangling over one arm and my back pressed to the other. My hair was done up in one of Felix's hair ties. I think her style had begun infecting me. I swung my legs for some time, leafing through one of Felix's magazines. She didn't live here yet and somehow most of her things had migrated into my apartment.
A saw pictures of various models and various clothing brands. I saw pictures of pretty rings. I had already found an engagement ring in my budget, so I skipped over that in a vain attempt at not feeling bad about my lack of money. There were wedding dresses. Felix had dog-eared some of the pictures. I wanted to be surprised so I ignored that too.
Then, an idea bubbled to the surface. My eyes widened. Elizaveta bent forwards, staring at my face earnestly. "What is it?" She asked, her teeth showing in a half-smile.
I was afraid to look at the bubble too directly, in case it would burst. I gave Elizaveta a wink. Elizaveta was skeptical but questioned nothing.
…
We stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking murmuring tides. The water glimmered like thousands of sapphires. I held Felix close to me, kissing her neck and causing her to giggle euphorically. She tickled me back and we leaned against the railing, causing more chips of red paint to flutter off and collect on the coarse green glasses below us. The sea breeze whipped through the air, catching her summer dress and sending it fluttering back.
I stepped back and dropped to my knee, popping the question and presenting the ring. Felix burst into happy tears and put the ring on, kissing me and hugging me. I felt like I had been engulfed be a sea and tugged right down to the bottom. I was lost and stupendously elated.
As we kissed at the end of the aisle, happily wed, I was ascertained personally that my suffering was worth something. My hardships and my woes were only the toils that went into producing a garden. Now I was able to see flowers rising from the earth, their pretty heads blooming, and I felt utterly at peace and hopelessly in love with the world, the sun beating on my sweating back.
Felix rarely talked about her past, but I could tell she felt much the same way. Even when she began to slip away…
…
What I also learned from this magnificent portion of my life was that happiness and misery were both finite. They came from each other in and endless and twisted cycle. After what happened I could smile more freely and I could weep more openly. My emotions were an undeniable part of my being. How the hell was I expected to hide them?
Felix decided to finally undergo surgery, having affirmed that I was attracted to her and only her, which she termed as demi-sexual. She went to the hospital without me, claiming she wanted to do this in private. I waited painfully for the next hour. It was only a check up, to see if everything was in order down there before they could begin. I felt as though I was getting it done.
After the hour passed Felix returned home, her cheeks stained with tears. My smile quickly disintegrated. These were not tears of joy. She could not undergo the surgery. She held up a paper and I pulled her into my arms, reading over her shoulder. My heart shattered. I would have to labor to pick up all the pieces in the years afterward, but I would never find them all.
Cancer
A five-letter word was all it took to destroy me. Felix and I cried the entire night, embracing and hoping for miracles, knowing they were never going to come.
Cancer
The word deadened our minds. There was nothing to do. It was in the brain. I could only watch as she faded away, becoming a ghost. I wondered how my brothers felt when I withered away all those years ago. One of them wilted too. I can still see the red petals falling slowly to the wooden floor and spreading in small puddles. I can see the shadow of a hanging man, a man too young.
These images refused to leave my mind alone. I comforted Felix with all my might, even when her eyes stopped seeing and her hands stopped feeling.
This part of my life became a blur. The schedule ticked by: rise, feed, medication, love, and so on and so forth until the schedule dwindled down to: mourn.
I don't remember when she died. It was slowly, slowly, and then all too quickly: as if she had been suspended on a thread that finally snapped.
…
Even after she left I refused to return to my miserable state. I earned promotions, my projects were beneficial to my company, I wrote a short book, I wrote this, and, most of all, I learned how to smile when I saw her pictures. I still talk to Elizaveta who has mourned with me and helped me all these years.
Last time she visited I noticed that she had aged. Lines appeared around her mouth and her hair began to thin and turn gray. I wondered at this novelty. I took a good look at myself in the mirror, a long one, and noticed I had aged, too. Where had the years gone?
I asked Elizaveta this and she gave me a serene smile, playing with the ring on her finger.
"I doubt anyone knows the answer to that question. Or, why had the years gone, for that matter. What do you think Felix would have said?"
I paused, considering this, and then I smiled.
"'I don't care, just never let me go.'"
I do not own Hetalia