Irony slipped down her cheeks in the form of bitter tears, plump with remorse. Her eyes were
brimmed with regret, glazed over with a layer of evidence that she owned a heart despite the lack of
one she showed to Sara yesterday.
Tegan wasn't allowed to cry as this was her fault, but the rules of heartbreak faded into oblivion
while her stomach churned with sickening guilt and her throat was tight with a strangling lump, as if
in punishment for allowing such terrible words out of her mouth. She had been a monster.
Recounting her memories, she didn't recognize herself in the moment of wrath – that person was a
stranger to her and she wanted nothing to do with them.
But if she were to be honest with herself, she knew that person had been brewing in the darkest
corners of her mind no matter how reluctant she was to admit this. It had been building and growing
with every hateful thought or brush off of conversation. She had allowed that looming figure
encased in baleful grime to rise from the depths of its murky pond, draped in acid insults meant only
to cause the most detrimental harm. Menacing, it terrified her to know that she could be that cruel.
Where she had once believed she was kind and friendly, was now replaced with the crushed look of
anguish in Sara's face after she spoke so sadistically.
Emy had been wrong. She was a bad person. Not because she had no romantic feelings for Sara
where she desired her sexually; that was something she could not control. But to stoop so low only
because she was embarrassed made her an awful person and it loomed over her head like a dark
cloud and its heavy rain drops poured from her eyes in endless streams as she muffled her sobs in
her the palm of her hand.
She had destroyed Sara's mask. Never had she expected it to be so fragile. Like porcelain, it had
cracked so easily. As if made of the thinnest thread, the weaved and taut knitting of Sara's
protection had popped apart to expose the tangled and ripped mess beneath it. The shielding armor
of defense Sara held so tightly had been dented the second Tegan spat words like knives her way.
How had she not realized its presence? She had spent so much of her time equating Sara to a robot
due to her aloof exterior that somewhere along the way, she had really started to believe Sara had
no feelings to bruise. Sara was not inhuman, not incapable of feeling. It was all so obvious now. She
picked up cues of Sara's attempts at friendship, that faltering moment where all of her walls crashed
down to expose her pain, and the heartache of an unloving mother. Sara tried so hard to seem
unaffected, but she wore her feelings on her sleeve. Tegan saw that now.
She had been so foolish, as now it was all so blatant. She had been so heartless. Her mother would
be terribly disappointed. Working with young women as a social worker, she had been very serious
with Tegan that when you met someone with intimacy, they were meant the utmost respect
afterwards no matter the situation. But Tegan had treated Sara as if she were a snide business man,
caught up in a web of adultery with a lady of the night.
The flashes of the kiss they had shared made Tegan's heart ache. Sara had been so gentle with her,
handling Tegan as carefully as Sara herself deserved to be treated. Of course Sara didn't have
feelings for her and that kiss had been stamped as alcohol induced in Tegan's mind, but even still, it
allowed Tegan to see the light of how sweet Sara handled others when she wasn't trying to hide.
A chocked sob ached in her throat. She had to apologize. The things Sara said to cause her
embarrassment paled in comparison to the hurt Tegan had caused her. She couldn't even find it
within herself to stay angry that Sara had inadvertently called her unappealing or the fact that she
had said her life was pathetic and her brain small. She was the bad guy now, not Sara. Sara had been
searching for comfort and Tegan had rushed away from her hug like it was the plague. With any
other queer person who had just been knocked with the news Sara had been, Tegan would've been
livid for them; she would have comforted them, offered a shoulder to cry on, ranted and raved
about equality. Yet she had been so stuck on her own petty worries, only causing Sara's hurt to
intensify.
One day after her twenty-first birthday, Sara had been kicked out of her childhood home and called
unlovable by the next person she spoke to. The emotional scars that probably caused were puffy and
sensitive. Tegan had to find the right words and attitude when she went to Sara and expressed how
sorry she was. Sara was now the sore flesh of fresh wound, ripped wide open and oozing pain – no
matter how much she was bound to hide it – and Tegan had to do this right. She had to put aside her
predispositions and fix her situation before they both left this home.
As her cries slow to sniffles and wet lashes, she searched her mind for the right words. And as she
spotted the crinkled, discarded clothing Sara had allowed her to borrow, an idea lit the bulb above
her head.
It was almost funny how everything had reversed. Where Sara had been the one waiting for Tegan
outside a door, Tegan now stood before Sara's door with a nervously bitten lip. Sara's dirty clothes
were clutched to her chest under one arm while the other hovered in a fist above her door. The
irony was laughable, the metaphor of a wall separating them causing great anxiety.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, she gave two tentative knocks.
The few moments afterwards, she held Sara's clothes tightly as her heart sped up. Shake off every
negative thing you've thought of her, she told herself, be compassionate.
When Sara opened her door, it was silent and unexpected. Tegan gave herself a mental pat on the
back for not flinching in surprise. She was slowly getting used to Sara's quiet movements.
Sara's gray flannel was loose as it hung off fragile shoulders and exposed her long throat dipping into
sharp collarbones, but for once, Tegan did not linger on the sexual buildup at the sight. Instead, she
zoomed in on Sara's face, bare of makeup or any hint of an expression. If not for the recollection of
pouring emotion yesterday, Tegan would assume everything was as normal as two days ago. There
was no difference in Sara's appearance as she stared at Tegan, who stood frozen.
Tegan swallowed the ice encasing her throat. "Um… hey, Sara." she greeted softly.
Besides the small cock of her head and the shift of her fringe brushing her jaw, Sara did nothing.
Tegan's anxiety increased.
"Um," She sucked her piercing into her mouth and rolled the small ball with her tongue in a nervous
habit before releasing her lip with a small smack. "I, uh… was wondering if I could, like… talk to you,
maybe. I want to apologize for yesterday." Sara remained silent. Tegan presented her clothes with a
nervous chuckle, "I brought your clothes back."
"An apology in the form of dirty laundry, not even folded neatly, but wadded up and wrinkled." Sara
deadpanned humorlessly. "Lovely."
"Oh." Tegan's fingers twitched around the clothes as her heart sank. She had already fucked it up.
"Sorry, I didn't think to-"
"You could have brought these to Martin and he would have known where they belonged." Sara
interrupted flatly. "Surely he would know that you do not own such clothing, though with the state
you've left them in, they might as well be the threadbare fabric you call your clothing. They're all but
ruined. Just keep them." She moved to close the door and in a fit of panic, Tegan stopped it with her
foot slamming in between the frame and wood. Luckily, Sara had to be gentle to be as silent as she
was and there was no pain, "Sara, please wait."
With an angry line of lowered brows, Sara crossed her arms over her chest impatiently. "What could
you possibly have to say to me, cook? I believe you said it all yesterday." Her eyes hardened. They
were so cold. Tegan only now noticed how much they had warmed up to her in these past few
weeks, melting numb ice with something lighter that was no longer present. Sara was so distant; it
was like day one all over again. "I am utterly detestable, am I not? Why would you linger in a
presence we both know you cannot stand?"
She was using her words against her and it hurt. Compunction swam in her heart like thick oil,
tainting her blood and swelling her veins. A pout poked at her lips as she dropped her eyes to the
floor. "Sara… look, what I said to you… there's no excuse. No one should talk to another person like
that. I was wrong to say those things. I was embarrassed for admitting that I, uh… you know… had
feelings for you physically when you clearly don't think the same of me." Sara's eyes flickered across
her face with something unreadable in the newly steely mask and Tegan rushed to amend her
statement. "Not that that's an excuse! I just… I'm trying to explain where I was coming from. But I'm
sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I was cruel and after what happened with your mum… I should've been
more sensitive. I'm sorry, okay?"
Sara didn't look at all appeased, but to be fair, she didn't look as if she had any feelings at all. Tegan
knew better than to believe that facade any longer, however. It frustrated her to no end that she
could not read the look that bobbed too far out in the ocean of Sara's eyes, so full of dark depth that
Tegan could not find the sun shining over the horizon. She was a skewered riddle and Tegan was a
dedicated reader, desperate to skim her pages with avid eyes and pick up her mysterious elements
to piece together her whole puzzle. She had seen something in Sara yesterday – something fresh and
new from the boring wall she had seen her as before. She'd seen an abundance of emotion. She
needed to see it again even if it meant learning that she disliked any side of Sara she was met with.
She had to know that she hadn't made it up in a fog of regret.
After a brief period of silence, Tegan gave up on searching Sara's unmoved face. "Can we just…" She
ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "Can we just, like... start over? Have a clean slate?" Her
proposal was topped off with big eyes.
"That seems a bit pointless, as we will both be leaving this house very soon." Sara had finally spoken
up, but it did nothing to help Tegan's shove to civility. "And then, you will be pleased to hear, we will
never have to see each other again. I'm sure you are tickled pink at the mere thought of being
absent of me."
"Sara, please. I feel terrible. I just want to make things right." Tegan was all but pleading, her pout
extending when things refused to go her way. As the only child of a doting mother, this was hard for
her to understand or accept.
Sara's face morphed with emotion, but it was not one Tegan was hoping to see. Fury darkened her
angled features, mouth twisting into a firm line and eyebrows low. "I am not here to mend your
guilty conscience." she hissed. "You are not standing at my door because you truly feel sorry. You
only want to make yourself feel like a better person. You do not want to start a clean slate. You don't
want to be around me, you said so yourself. You just want to hear me say that you are forgiven so
you can give yourself a pat on the back and continue the charade that you are a good person despite
contrary evidence."
Tegan's eyes widened. Offense took place of some of her remorse. "No! I really am sorry! You've got
it all wrong-"
"At least give us both the courtesy of admitting your true intentions. You spoke words of pure hatred
for me only one day ago. Feelings do not shift so quickly. You don't care about how I feel." Sara
snapped, sharp like knives. "Not that I feel anything towards you but contempt." She added hastily,
yet not without a small falter.
"You're wrong, Sara." Tegan genuinely informed her, horrified that things were going so badly. "I
feel terrible about what I said and not because of any of that stuff. I cried, for fucks sake. I regret it
so much. And just imagining that you might've cried over what I said to you kills me-"
"I did not cry and will not cry over you." Sara's voice was like a snake's hiss, full of rage and highly
threatening. "To cry over something so pathetic would be truly embarrassing. Get over yourself."
Tegan rubbed a hand over her forehead. She searched for the right words to get through to stoic
Sara, but the other woman spoke up first.
"I'm going to save you from this pitiful display and order you to leave me be." Sara grasped the
doorknob and shook her head as if deeply exasperated. Her eyes were far away and avoiding Tegan's
own pair as she added beneath her breath, "Just go away."
The door shut softly, but Tegan winced. The gentle clasp was louder than any vibrating walls or
ringing ears from slammed doors.