Kurloz stretched out on the couch, the worn wood creaking beneath him. His long hair was a mess. His makeup was smeared. Dirt and grime covered his costume and horns. The stitches across his lips were coming loose.
"Jeeze, Kurloz. You look like a wreck," you tell him as you bring him a blanket.
"Don't remind me," he signs back.
"Oh, relax. I'm just making conversation." You lay the blanket over him and sit beside him on the couch. He pulls the blanket to his chin you notice lines of purple around his lips. "Jegus, Kurloz, you're bleeding!"
Kurloz reaches up to his lip and looks at the blood on his fingers.
"So I am," his hands say.
"Come on, let me clean you up a little," you plead, grabbing his hand and tugging him to his feet. The blanket falls to the ground and he follows you to the bathroom.
You run a bath for him and turn around. He's sitting cross-legged on the tile floor, staring at the blood covering his hands. The stitches have all been pulled from his lips. You swear under your breath and kneel down in front of him to inspect the damage.
He must have torn the stitches out when you weren't looking. He pulled them out roughly, apparently. Purple lines trail down his cheeks and drip from his chin. You instruct him to get in the bath while you get the needle and thread you always keep in the first aid kit for him. You put them on the bathroom counter, taking care not to look at Kurloz and blushing at the sight of his costume on the ground.
You pick up the clothes and take them to the next room to wash them. They're torn badly, and you examine them closely to see if you can manage some repairs. You sigh as you stick your fingers through one of the holes in his shirt and throw it all into the wash. You close the door to the laundry room behind you as you walk back to the bathroom. You knock on the door and ask Kurloz if he's done.
Kurloz opens the door with one hand and you see him standing in front of the mirror with a towel around his waist and a needle through his lips. Your stomach churns at the sight of him sewing his lips back up. You tell him quietly that his clothes are in the wash but there's a spare costume in the guest room. As often as he comes to you for help, you've become prepared for anything.
He nods as you walk to the kitchen. You pour yourself a drink and take large gulps of it. You drop the glass in the sink and it almost shatters but Kurloz's hand is suddenly around it. He settles the cup and looks at you. He looks perfectly fine now; he's got a fresh costume, his lips are stitched again, and his hair and makeup have been fixed.
He steps toward you and pulls you in for a hug. His strong arms hold you close and you return the embrace warmly.
"Kurloz," you whisper, "stop doing this to yourself. Let it go."
Kurloz pushes you away and signs almost too quickly for you to read, "I can't do that! I love her too much! I'm nothing without her!"
"Meulin learned to move on; why can't you?" you ask in desperation.
Kurloz makes a noise that sounds like a growl and signs, "Because I love her."
"I know you do, but Kurloz—"
He interrupts you with rapid, angry signing: "Stop! Just stop! I hurt her but that doesn't change how I feel. I need her. I'd rather be dead than be without her."
"Kurloz that's ridiculous. There are people here that need you."
"Not Meulin."
"She was never the only one that needed you," you say as you look at the ground. You cross your arms across your chest and take a deep breath. You can see that Kurloz is signing to you, but you refuse to look up and read what he's saying.
He makes a noise like a mewing kitten to get your attention. You reluctantly look up. His face has softened from the hard look he was just giving you and your heart melts a little.
"I'm sorry," he signs. "I know you need me, too. You're one of my best friends."
You sigh and smile, or at least try to.
"Is something bugging you?" he asks, his hands moving slower for you.
"I don't think you know how much I need you, how much it hurts me to see you this way," you answer.
Kurloz hesitates then signs slowly, "I may not love anyone as much as I love Meulin, but that doesn't mean it's impossible for me to feel flushed for anyone else."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean she's not the only one I can love."
You stare at him, unsure of what to say next. He puts a hand on your shoulder and puts his forehead to yours. You wrap your arms around him and sigh.
"Kurloz, can I tell you something?"
He makes a noise that is his equivalent of "Yes."
"I've always envied Meulin. I've been flushed for you for years," you tell him. A weight is lifted off your shoulders, and quickly replaced with a feeling of dread.
Kurloz steps back so he can sign to you. "Have you really?" he asks.
You nod and shift your weight nervously.
Kurloz brushes a hand down your cheek before signing, "Good."
"Good?" you ask, confused.
"Yes. Good. I'm flushed for you, too," he responds.
"Really? You mean it?" you ask him with a smile. He smiles back, stretching the threads over his lips.
"Yes, really. I've been flushed for you since shortly after Meulin and I broke up."
"Wow… Kurlin, I have a question."
"Me first," he signs excitedly. His hands begin moving rapidly and the threads in his lips are stretched thin. "Will you be my matesprit?"
You nod happily, your heart pounding faster and faster. He pulls you tightly into his arms, holding you as close as he can. His hand strokes your back caringly and you sigh into his chest.