PERSPECTIVES
When she turns off the shower, the apartment is quieter than Amy anticipated. If it was Rouge at the door, she's being uncharacteristically quiet. Expecting to hear muffled voices but greeted instead with silence, she shrugs slightly and begins getting dressed. I guess Shadow was wrong.
Even flustered while gathering clothing, the prospect of an afternoon date made her choice far more feminine and familiar than sweatsuits; an above-the-knee white dress prominently patterned with pink and yellow flowers, entwined together with a few touches of green leaves and stem adding adding depth to a spring dress she couldn't resist after spotting it in the store.
Because what on Mobius would people think of she went to a restaurant is a sweatsuit? Even unrecognised, Chaos forbid, she'd die.
The collar of the dress is smooth and high-neck, showing only a little fur on the chest, completely covering her breasts and sweeping down her curves. A slight flare at the hem balances her shoulders and makes an hourglass illusion, the fabric less stiff than her old red number but classier, she hopes.
A light flip to free her quill tips from the collar gives her pause, though. They're normally too short to get caught, a fashion choice made long ago to keep them manageable and easy living in the woods. The fact they've gotten so long without her noticing is a testament to how difficult this heat has been.
With a mental note to ask Shadow where she could find a stylist she takes a step back to observe her quill bundles anew in the mirrored medicine cabinet. Her breath catches in her throat as she notes they hang just beyond her collarbone.
Her fur looks the same as always fresh out the shower; shiny peach and rose greet her first, frequent grooming leaving a smooth finish further flattened by water. The face beneath is thinner, excess baby weight lost during the Forces Saga revealing the fine, cultivated features of an adult in a strong jaw and sleek cheekbones.
Emerald irises glisten, alive and alert in contrast to the colourful half-inch length coat surrounding them. In all these changes the naive teenager she believes herself to be is lost beneath newfound maturity, a mask pulled over insecurities to instead portray a woman of presence, radiant with vitality.
Amy hardly recognises herself, in shock even as the image reflected in the mirror mimics her, raising a hand to her own face and tracing her newly exposed fine features. Certain she still looked like herself just a week ago, the digits skimming through her own fur and tracing her cheekbone feel suddenly surreal.
Surely life experience doesn't have such a profound effect on appearance? It must be a coincidence, her change of circumstances and this sudden alteration of features. Has she looked different for months and not noticed, or had the changes been too subtle to detect until she really paid attention?
Moreover, if I have changed, why do I still feel like a child?
"Easy, Shads." Some of the fur on her arm stands to immediate attention. An ear pivots towards the door a fraction of a second before her whole head follows, stomach dropping down to her knees. The speaker is obviously male, so definitely not Rouge, and there's only one person Amy knows of that would continue to call the ebony hedgehog a nickname he openly hated.
Why would Sonic come back so soon? To apologise? Unlikely, but she's hopeful, not because she wants nor feels deserving of his forgiveness, but because she's desperate to do the same for him. A selfish desire to feel some relief from her emotional burden alongside a need to share the overwhelming self-hatred that's surfaced.
It had taken Shadow's empathy, his concern for her well-being despite her advances, to make her realise what she'd done to Tails was not justified but a cold-hearted revenge. It's one of the reasons she feels so attached to the solemn hedgehog, even; not devoid of emotion but able to objectively analyse a situation, a new perspective that should be obvious but is often lost beneath emotion.
At least she thought so, but Sonic's statement has her nervous, a feeling only intensified by a soft warning growl penetrating her tiled refuge. Nausea morphs into anxiety as Shadow's same responses shift in her own perceptions, the formally arousing primal growl becoming intimidating in the face of his rival.
This utterance is threat, a warning for the other to back off, the deep tone of her mate sending a shudder down her spine as dominance and possession echo in his growl. It should make her feel safe and protected, but fear for Sonic is much more prevalent than any calming hormones that should be evoked.
Oh no. The realisation she's forgotten to explain the side effects of Marking a mate is sudden. The reversal.
She recalls how uncharacteristically freaked out he'd been upon waking that morning, the shake in his hand and the distance in his eyes, how he hadn't even noticed her touch until he'd calmed himself with steady breaths. Even then he'd been unwilling to talk about it. Taking himself off to the kitchen, the effect left on him was obvious when losing his composure over some mugs.
With all she's been through, all she's seen and done, even with being previously active in The Resistance, Amy can't imagine what her mate must have been through to cause such unsettling dreams. She knows she won't allow him to be returned to that sort of treatment, which means she needs to intervene before Sonic says something stupid and gets his throat ripped out in the kitchen.
Unlocking the door and placing her hand on the handle, Amy takes her own deep breath to centre herself before stepping into the fray.
oOoOo
Feigning disinterest is a difficult skill to master, and this is particularly true when those conversing less than six feet away are your girlfriend and her ex, the former of whom is carrying your child. Even with setting up Amy's new cell phone to keep his hands busy, Shadow's ears constantly betray him by turning towards their hushed tones, the few words he catches enough to set him on edge.
There was no denying Amy seemed a little pissed to find him towering over his azure doppelganger. While she hasn't directly confronted him regarding the intimidating behaviour yet, he's certain she will, even if she has the decency to wait until Sonic has left.
For the most part, their conversation is amicable, if a little too hushed for Shadow's liking. A few subtle glances by both parties in his direction are enough to put his quills on edge, but the gentle touches, dumb smiles and softly spoken words have his teeth clenched so tightly his jaw aches from effort.
A jealous anger he assumes to be associated with recently Marking his mate bubbles beneath his skin, brewing and simmering as they trade hushed words in various tones of concern or affection. Blood rushing through his body, the loud thrum of his pulse in his ears makes focusing difficult, his mind catching only choice words: "Aggressive." "Marking." "Reversal." "Tell him?" "Forgot."
He moves to retrieve his own phone and search what a 'Reversal' might be, but something Amy says makes his heart stall. "I will always love you," she whispers to Sonic as he touches her face, and lets his fingers linger there for a moment before removing them, her smile sad.
Whatever she says next is too soft to catch as his heart starts up again, the pulse too loud as dark ears strain, not even catches of words interpretable from sound alone. He glances over to lip-read but the conversation is already over, the pair sharing an embrace that lasts a touch too long for his liking and their expressions soft and caring afterwards.
The smirk Sonic sends his way feels smug, so much so he's forced to look away rather than return the cheerful wave with anything other than an agitated grunt, suppressing the urge to throttle the azure right there in the kitchen. His charismatic rival has a way with people, always able to keep Eggman off kilter and Amy on his heels, the latter even while openly dating others.
I wasn't aware that this was a competition, he thinks idly, staring down at the new phone in his palm as it runs through start-up procedures. All the fight in him drains to a sickeningly familiar disinterest, the numbing of his mind quick in its wake as his emotions begin to shut down, only slightly interrupted by suppressed Heat hormones. But I suppose I've lost.
The soft click of the door seems very final in that moment. Silence enveloped the room again, minus the odd noise from the neighbours and muffled traffic beyond the walls, his senses entirely internalised until a warm, slightly damp hand rests on his knee.
His vision returns sudden and sharp, a worried expression on Amy's face as she kneels before him snapping into high definition. The hand on his knee is her own, her grip firm and reassuring, and a conflicting confusion cascades over him as he can't determine if Amy is the best or worst thing to have happened to him since his revival, the intensity of the emotions involved leaving him feeling hollow.
For the second time that day, her lips move but he can't understand her, a fuzzy heaviness weighing him down as she hangs in his peripheral vision. Shadow's breaths come shallow but slow, the sensation of pins and needles on the brain hazing his thoughts until she squeezes his knee, and all of a every sense returns to functionality all at once.
"Shadow? Are you okay?" Her voice scratches inside his ears, the volume a burning sensation in his mind. He flinches and closes his eyes, shutting out some of the sensations in the hope he can focus on her voice without discomfort. The hand on his knee feels like it weighs a ton, her words equally weighted in tangled emotions. "Is there something I can do? Get you some water, or maybe-"
Even as she continues to speak it becomes more bearable, though he daren't open his eyes, his voice soft but tight when he interrupts her. "Stop, Rose." To his great relief she falls silent instantly, the sudden nothingness a welcome relief for his senses, the silence both calming and detrimental to his rationality.
In lieu of other emotions, that unfamiliar jealous anger resurfaces, now focused on the seemingly fickle loyalties of his mate. Residual feelings for her ex were obvious even before she'd admitted 'I will always love you' to the azure, something that gnaws at his self-confidence and berates him for his own misplaced loyalties, but with his eyes closed he can't distract from it with exterior stimuli.
When crimson orbs open its into a glare he focuses on the concerned emeralds staring up at him, getting a dark sense of satisfaction from the uncertainty their intensity garner from the fuschia. Curiously, he notes her ears don't fold back, nor do her quills bristle, the lack of fear in her posture agitating him further.
His tone is thick with tension, a slight flicker of her ear and the tightening of her lithe frame a sure sign she senses it. "You still love him." It's a statement, not a question, one Amy makes no move to deny. Whether it is defiance of bravery, she stares into his eyes unwavering, the stillness of her features somewhat unsettling to witness from her.
When he can't stand the silence any longer Shadow fills it himself, placing a hand over hers as he leans towards her. "Enlighten me, Rose." He presses his claws into her skin, the pressure alluding to pain as a focal point for the fear she must be masking, an intimidation technique to elicit a confession. "Why are you still here?"
Her reply is a whisper, deep and emotive, but in no way an admittance of betrayal. "Because I'm falling in love with you, Shadow."
The lack of fear catches him off guard and his own ears fold back, the soft growl that escapes his lips a reflexive response to uncertainty. She doesn't flinch, nor does she laugh away a joke he's unaware of, glistening emeralds suddenly free of disquiet.
Full of more certainty than he's ever felt in his life, their intensity rivals his own. "I'll always love Sonic, because if you can just forget someone you claim to have cared for so deeply, I'd wager you never loved them at all."
His mouth dries up as memories of his time aboard the Ark resurface in that moment, coupled with them the unyielding care he felt towards Maria. For many years he's believed it simple gratitude for the changes he'd helped make in his life, but as the bond they shared evolved some lab technicians expressed concerns the relationship was inappropriate, Human-Mobian relationships even more taboo back then than they were in modern society.
It had been these queries that prompted the brief, clinical 'the birds and the bees' talk with the Professor, where it quickly became established he wasn't physically attracted to the female but was instead protective of her.
Labelled a close sibling-like relationship, the techs dropped their concerns, but the whole thing had left Shadow confused. What he felt for Maria being labelled as love while the Professor alluded to (but poorly explained) a physical kind of love blurred lines he hadn't previously been aware of, lines no one would talk to him about.
Even Rouge had spoken very little on the matter, their relationship further blurring the boundaries between Mate behaviour and friendship. With too much time on his hands he'd conducted some research online, but most of the articles he found were just as confusing, and some downright concerning given the insinuations that crossing those borders was both illegal and immoral.
Now he knows why these articles were so vague, because it was something people just knew and didn't need explaining. Quick analysis of the relationships he knows to exist show a stark contrast, a care without physical need beyond the drive to comfort and bring happiness easy to separate from the stronger physical desire he felt for Amy.
There's no fear in her voice because she's certain of her feelings, of the separation between the comfort and friendship she feels for Sonic against the physical need now reserved for him alone. For her, love is easy to give in all its forms, and she remains oblivious to his internal dissection of the multitude of social layers he's never truly understood before now.
Her words are as true as they can be, hanging in the air filled with emotion. 'Because I'm falling in love with you, Shadow".
Anger melting away, he stops pressing his claws into her pelt as sadness takes its place. He feels inadequate in the face of her depth of feeling and understanding, an abrupt rollercoaster of emotion in comparison to her stability, an interpretation of himself that's voiced before he can force the words back down his throat. "You deserve better."
She smiles so sadly his chest aches. Never does he want to see her seem so affected by his insecurities, not wishing to be the cause of such distress in her. But she doesn't nod or agree with him, nor does she leave to follow her former idol back to New Metropolis, instead holding his gaze as her fingers graze the line of his jaw.
"You deserve better," she states, the phrase and emphasis peculiar in itself as he tries to understand. Unable to determine if she's referring to her influence or his whole situation Shadow stays silent, holding her gaze until she continues. "I choose you, Shadow."
Those four words send a strange flutter through his chest, a warmth he'll later identify as happiness, but currently only strikes him a perception shift. His eyes flicker to her lips and back again, his hesitation only brief before he closes the distance between them.
Tan lips press to peach in lieu of words and in turn peach push back, Amy straightening on her knees to make the angle easier to sustain with her hand still on his knee. Her other comes back to his face, grazing across his cheek, skimming dark fur as one of his own cups the back of her head.
The sensation is becoming so familiar, and yet this feels different; connection without physical drive, an impulse to feel connected without sexual arousal, such urges already satiated for the morning. Instead of passionate their connection is gentle, the warmth skittering through his body swelling in his chest as time passes.
Not dissipating when they finally separate, it fills a chasm he'd previously been unaware of, warm and complete in his chest. Amy's smile only intensifies the feelings and he can't help but smile back as they remain there, foreheads resting against one another in a giddy contentedness he'll never admit to feeling should anyone other than Rouge or Amy herself enquire.
Is this love? Its something he's not experienced before, the defensive drive he'd felt for Maria entirely different, but he understands why people would strive to gain such emotion with how invigorating it feels beneath his fur. He wants it to remain, an addictive euphoria almost as strong as sexual climax.
Finally, he managed to get his voice to function, tone low and thoughtful as he reflects on an earlier conversation hazed by pheromones. "So tell me, my Rose, what exactly is involved in a date?"