Eight's chest was tight, her breath was short and her throat felt dry. She lay on the ground, clad in only her undergarments, staring up at the most beautiful physical form she had ever seen.
Three stood above her, clad in the same sports top and shorts she did when they sparred. Her hips were cocked, a hand placed on the high side. She looked down at her with half-lidded eyes and a sultry smile that made Eight's hearts race and elicited strange unfamiliar sensations through her body.
Eight swallowed and her body tensed as Three lowered herself, straddling her body with strong, thick legs and her chest, larger than her own, bounced centimeters from the tip of her nose.
Eight uttered a groan as she felt the heat radiating from them then grunted as Three sat on her lower torso. She was taller than her by about a third and massed probably twice as much. So large, so powerful, so beautiful. Surely no one would blame her for falling in love with Three, or for having these strange urges she didn't understand.
"You're so beautiful," Eight gasped as she met Three's deep crimson orbs. Her green tentacles dangled on either side of her head, as if creating a path for their heads to follow.
"You're not so bad yourself," Three whispered back at her, her voice like sweet honey spice to Eight's ears.
She was leaning down, closer and closer. Eight's hearts quickened still further, eyes widening and breath becoming short as she realized what was coming.
Yes, yes, yes. Eight wanted this so badly, had prayed for it. Just one, please let her have just this one.
Eight closed her eyes and puckered her lips, feeling Three's weight shifted forward and she bent down. She felt the inkling's nutrirae press against her chest like warm pillows and the heat of lover's face scant centimeters from her own.
Yes, yes, yes!
Eight suddenly coughed and then the world became a blur. She felt the sensation of being rapidly accelerated and then decelerated. She opened her eyes and saw… nothing, nothing except for the ceiling of her bedroom, coloured slightly blue by the dim of dawn's twilight. Another dream, yet another dream.
Eight let out a pitiful whine and smacked her mattress dejectedly. This was not the first time she had this sort of dream. They had started shortly after she began her tentative courtship with Three. Each time it was slightly different and lately Three had been growing progressively curvier and more voluptuous.
Eight tossed her covers off, letting the cooler air of her bedroom help jar her awake. She sat up in bed and there was a gross, wet tearing sound as her back peeled off the bed sheets. Her stomach dropped, knowing what the cause was.
She peeked through cracked eyelids and found the area of her mattress she'd been lying on stained with her cerise ink. She had gotten so worked up she had leaked ink… again.
Eight was too used to this by now to be embarrassed anymore. Ink usually dissolved on its own but the sheets would still have to be washed. She lazily swung her legs out over the side and placed her feet on the floor, rubbing her eyes to try and coax the sleep out of them.
Blinking she found herself looking at the DVD case next to her television: My Girlfriend Keeps Growing Curvier. It was the first animated romance Eight had ever seen.
Looking for good romantic media to help educate her about inkling courtships and romance in general, she had happened upon it. Although the idea of a good romance made entirely of drawn pictures seemed hard to imagine, the reviews recommended it highly and she purchased it on that basis and the desire to see something different. After watching three episodes in one night, she was hooked and quickly ordered the second season.
The story was from the perspective of an inkling boy who took a scrawny inkling girl as his girlfriend, mostly out of pity. However, for some unexplained reason, the girl rapidly began to grow more and more healthy and curvaceous as she became more confident. The main plot of each episode had to due with the trials and tribulations in their lives that this condition caused.
It was no doubt the reason her fantasy Three had been getting so much more curvaceous of late. Inkling girls were typically fairly slim, even upon reaching maturity, but octolings, by the simple fact that a healthy octoling female would lay more eggs than a typically inkling one, often had a more curvaceous body. Thus, as an octoling herself, Eight was inclined to see those more curvaceous qualities as desirable. That was her justification, at least.
Eight didn't understand why her fantasies had taken such a direction however. She found Three to already be quite physically attractive. And yet, a part of her couldn't help but desire Three to look more like the girl from the show.
"Why am I like this?" She groaned into her hands. "I fell in love with Three the way she was. Why would I want her to be different at all?" Maybe it had to do with the fact that she watched it before going to bed so often.
Sighing heavily, she stood up and slipped her feet into her slippers. Regardless of her problems, she still had work to do. Honestly, it might be a good distraction for her right now.
Eight stripped her bed and tossed the sheets into the laundry room to be washed. Then she got cleaned up and dressed. The first thing she had to do in the morning was ensure that everything Pearl and Marina needed for their day was ready.
Eight hastily gathered Marina's laptop from the coffee table and put it in her bag as well as any papers she had with her. She did the same with Pearl's scattering of notes, mostly song lyrics and rhymes. Giving those sheets a cursory glance she found herself appreciating some of Pearl's cleverness when it came to her own brand of poetry; although, Pearl herself would never call it that.
The collecting done, she checked the clock, roughly fifteen minutes before Pearl and Marina woke up. Perfect time to start breakfast and get their coffee brewing. Pearl was an animal without her morning coffee and it was the only time Marina typically drank it either.
Eight had just finished making an omelette when she heard a yawn. Pearl emerged from the hallway in her fluffy pink pyjamas and matching slippers. They looked quite warm, suitable for the increasing cold.
"Mornin'," The inkling said wearily, taking her seat at the kitchen island.
"Good morning," Eight replied cheerily- but not too cheerily. She added a bit of seasoning and handed the omelette to Pearl just as the coffee maker rang.
Pearl laughed weakly. "You're getting good with your timing."
"It only helps if you stay consistent," she said. "It is unusual for you to be up before Marina, however."
Pearl shrugged and accepted her mug of fresh coffee gratefully, letting the wisps of vapour drift up into her nostrils for a moment before taking a sip.
"Marina's allowed to wake up after me if she wants. I have a feeling she was up late thinking about the Work Detail thing."
"I saw some of her papers. It did seem like she was working on the agenda for the next meeting."
"Work Detail" was the name of a charity organization they were starting in order to help octolings adapt to life in Inkopolis. It had actually been Pearl's idea, in light of what happened with the octolings that had kidnapped Eight a month ago and what they would do once their community service was over. They still had to make a living after all, and Marina had taken them under her wing, acting as their new leader. They met as a group once a week to discuss their situation and raise concerns.
Work Detail, would provide a means of organizing them, helping them find odd jobs, provide means of finding training and further education; and as a social support group to help everyone adapt to life in this new world. It would also be open to other octolings already in the city and those that might come later.
Pearl sighed heavily. "We're already so busy. I can't believe she'd willingly take on more work."
Eight looked up from the second omelette she was making and knitted her brows at Pearl's concerned frown. They locked eyes and Pearl asked her, "You'd tell me if you thought she was pushing herself too hard, right? I mean, I've known her for two years but she's really good at hiding it."
Eight gave her a sardonic smile. "Well, we octolings are rather skilled at camouflage, after all." She gave a little chuckle and Pearl managed a tiny smile. "I would tell you if I thought she was pushing herself too hard. I care about her too."
Pearl nodded, satisfied. "I know. Thanks."
Marina herself appeared a full minute later. Her bronze, satin night robes swishing around her legs and barely clinging to one shoulder. Yes, it looked like she really had to force herself out of bed today.
Eight had her breakfast and coffee already waiting for her and Marina uttered a small thanks in Octese before digging in.
Pearl gave her a disapproving look but then turned her gaze to Eight as she made her own breakfast.
"What have you got planned for today, Eight?"
Eight shrugged. "I am honestly not certain. I suppose I could do some shopping. We are running low on detergents."
"Boring," Pearl complained. "Why don't you have fun? When was the last time you did turf war? The last time you did it with Three?"
Eight's hearts skipped a beat at the mention of Three's name but she managed to maintain her composure.
"I have gone once since then. It was just the other day. I usually try not to go more than a few days between participating in turf war in order to keep my skills sharp."
"Uh-huh." Pearl eyed her, not suspiciously, but more so curious. She ate a large piece of omelette and then asked, "What are you doing about Three?"
Eight froze for a second, her eyes dilating wide with alarm and mild panic before she managed to recover. "I… um, what do you mean?"
"I mean, aren't you two supposed to be...kinda dating?" She rolled her eyes. "Or whatever it is you're calling it."
"Pearl," Marina said wearily. "We already know how dimly you view Three's reaction to her confession."
"Non-reaction is more like it," Pearl huffed. Clearly the coffee was kicking in now. "Eight, it's been a month and you two haven't even been on a real date yet. What are you two doing? Is she giving you the cold shoulder?"
"No, not at all," Eight insisted. Perhaps it had felt like it the last time they met but it had been clear to Eight by the end that something was weighing on Three's mind. "We are merely… trying to understand each other right now."
Pearl groaned, her mantle turning blue with splotches of brown before it turned a solid maroon. "Eight, that's what dates are for. If you're both too anxious just to go on a date then you have some serious problems."
You don't need to tell me that. Eight thought. But I'm the one with serious issues, not Three. I can't get close to her if I risk losing control. I have all these strange feelings and desires about her now that I don't know what it is I'm actually supposed to do. I don't know what instinct to follow. That's why I've just been doing simple things I see on TV, like making her lunch the other day. What are the societal protocols for this sort of thing?
"We did eat lunch together the other day," she said tentatively. Though it had been nearly a week since then. "It's a start. Three even complimented my mealmaking."
"I remember," Pearl said, her tone dry but not quite dismissive. "But that's like the bare minimum. You don't need to be dating to get a compliment on your food."
"Depends how stingy Three is with compliments," Marina countered. "She's very much an inkling of few words."
Eight nodded emphatically. "She speaks little out loud. She prefers to speak with colour."
"I've noticed," Pearl sighed. "Sorry, Eight. I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all."
"I know," Eight said. "I am certain once we get past our respective difficulties, things will be much easier."
Pearl smirked and took another sip of her coffee. "You have a lot to learn about love, Eight. A lot to learn."
Eight groaned inwardly, somehow knowing that Pearl was right and that her troubles were just starting on that front. She hoped that Three was feeling more comfortable about their situation than she was. Eight somehow doubted she would if she knew the peculiar fantasies and desires she had regarding her. She would certainly find them strange and off-putting at the very least, peculiarities of octoling behavior an inkling simply couldn't understand.
Not that I blame her. I don't understand them myself.
"Eight," Marina said, sounding more awake than she looked. "We appreciate that you're doing your job, but don't forget to have fun too. You can spend time with Three if you want."
"I know," Eight said, finally sitting down to have her own breakfast. "It's… just hard to find the right time. We are still figuring those things out."
Pearl shook her head. "Don't spend all your time figuring things out, Eight. Sometimes you just gotta plunge in feet first and see what happens. Remember, you made the first move so Three is going to expect you to take the lead."
Eight nodded absently. She understood what Pearl was saying, but even so, she couldn't be reckless, not with her ignorance of romance and courtship, not when she could so easily push Three away forever. No, for now she would have to try and improve her understanding and hopefully that would lead to her being cleansed of all these perverse thoughts.
After all, Three deserved only the best, and she had to try and be the best for her. After everything she had done, after everything Eight owed her, that was the least she could do.
Three nodded in satisfaction at the piece of legal paper on the desk in front of her, pleased with her work. The night of fitful sleep seemed worth it now that she had this.
She traced the lines on the paper with her index finger, running through the sequences she had written down in her head as she read them.
What she had created was a chart. On the left was where she was: unable to understand the strange feeling she had, something stopping her from moving forward in a relationship with Eight and not being able to decide between staying home or accepting Callie and Marie's offer to become their full time bodyguard. From there, the chart split into two branches.
The top branch had to do with Callie and Marie's offer, where the first point was that the reasons she hesitated to accept Callie and Marie's offer was that she didn't want to feel as though she was leaving her family on the verge of two babies coming into their lives. Yet, she wanted to accept their offer because she wanted to be there for Callie and Marie as well and she considered them her family as much as her parents and they needed her too.
At that point it split into three more branches, one for each outcome she could come up with. One being she left home and accepted their offer, the second she stayed home and reluctantly rejected their offer, forcing them to rely on someone unknown and that they probably wouldn't trust right away.
And who wouldn't likely be as strong as me. It wasn't ego talking, she insisted to whichever deity was listening to her thoughts, it was just a fact. Plus, she didn't like the idea of a stranger taking care of two people she cared for so dearly.
The final option was a compromise; although, she couldn't imagine what that would be. Maybe Callie or Marie could come up with something but she herself wasn't so good at these things. Really, her current position as a part-time bodyguard was a compromise already so that branch was probably a dead end.
The other two branches she had continued on with things she would need to do to accomplish those outcomes. Such as getting a babysitting license if she chose to stay home. Most of it was vague, but at least the chart provided her some direction and helped her organize her thoughts.
She moved down to the branch about Eight where she honestly needed the most clarity.
She had written down the things she liked about dating Eight or imagined that she would like, and listed the negatives. The list of negatives was small and some of the items seemed petty but the feeling of distance and perceived lack of chemistry between them was a strong point, nearly as strong as the uneasy feeling she had around her.
Three slid another piece of paper towards the centre of her desk. On it she had written down a list of every time she got that same unpleasant sensation. Such as whenever she thought about Eight meeting her parents or telling Eight where she lived. It also came up when she thought of telling her parents about Eight. For now, there was no need since they weren't formally dating but if things proceeded, they would eventually.
Three held her head in her hands. Worse than those feelings had been the dreams. Dreams where she killed Eight or Eight became horrified at the killing she had done and continued to do. Times where Eight even exposed her deeds to the world and got her put in prison for mass murder, to the eternal shame of her parents.
"I don't kill for fun," she mumbled to herself. "I don't kill for fun. It's just my job." But everytime she saw Eight's pretty amber eyes she felt that gnawing feeling again.
A loud crash from downstairs halted her thoughts. She bolted to her feet and ran out of her room. She jumped from the top of the stairway and slid down the railing on her feet, something she had been able to do since childhood. Near the bottom of the stairs she jumped into the living room and ran into the kitchen.
Her iya was crouched on the floor, carefully picking up the pieces of a shattered plate. Fortunately, there appeared to have been no food on it at the time.
"Iya," she said. "Get up. I'll do it."
"I'm fine," she replied, a little testily. "I'm eggnant, not invalid."
Three sniffed impatiently, then hurried to the broom closet to get the dustpan and brush. Without prompting she knelt down in front of her iya and hurriedly swept the shattered porcelain. Her iya looked at her with annoyance but Three ignored it and held the dust pan towards her insistently. Sighing, the older inkyora dumped the shattered bits she held in her hand into the pan and stood.
"You're becoming as pushy as your father."
"I'm not being pushy," Three huffed, dumping the shattered plate into the trash. Her mantle was awash with unpleasant browns and disapproving purples. "I know you haven't been sleeping well. You're not getting enough rest."
"I am just fine. You're overreacting."
"We want you to take care of yourself."
"I am taking care of myself. I've been taking care of myself since long before you hatched, young lady."
"So you should be better at it," Three snapped. Then her face softened, white apology spots appearing on her mantle as it turned a darker blue. "Just… don't make me worry.'
Her iya frowned and then sat in the chair at the head of the table. Her mantle was a melancholy purple, brown in some spots, but there were ripples of passionate pink in it as well.
Three pulsed a curious yellow and her iya gave her a bittersweet smile. "I'm just remembering when your mother was carrying you. She was still trying to do the same things she always did, running around, driving that car recklessly down the touges, no sense of fear or caution at all. It's common sense that high adrenaline action isn't something you should be indulging in when you're with egg."
Three frowned, a fresh knot forming in her stomach. "But… why? Didn't she care about me? Didn't she love me?" What her iya was telling her was completely contrary to her own image of her mother. Someone who loved and cherished her, tucked her in at night, read her bedtime stories, freaked out if she so much as skimmed her knee, and never missed one of her recitals. She had been someone who's love she never once doubted. Had she simply imagined those things?
Her iya's mantle flared orange and then turned to a serene blue. "Baby, of course she loved you, she loved you with all her heart and soul. Never ever doubt her love for you."
Three stared at her. "But… but you just said-."
"I wasn't finished."
Her iya opened her arms invitingly and Three came and sat sideways on her lap, resting her head against her shoulder. Three felt like a child as her iya applied slow, loving strokes to her mantle.
"As I was saying, your mother was doing all these reckless things and we finally put our foot down and told her to stop. We did everything but tie her down but she just wouldn't sit still. One day, we went out after her and found her in the park under a tree, crying." Three pulsed yellow again, asking 'why.' "Because she was scared."
Three's mantle turned a confused yellow-orange and then she again asked why.
"She was scared of being a mother," Her iya whispered softly. "That's why she was doing all of those reckless things. She was running away, trying to forget how scared she was that you were coming. She always loved you, sweetheart, but sometimes, fear gets in the way of love and you can forget what love really means."
That last phrase hit Three like a truck. Fear got in the way of love? She always thought that it was love that helped one overcome fear. At least, that's what movies and TV shows she had grown up on said.
"H-how did she get over it?" Three asked meekly.
"By telling us she was afraid. Sometimes a large part of being scared isn't just what you're afraid of but also the fear of other people knowing that you're afraid. Your mother liked to think she was tough, that she could tackle anything. It was the image she had and she didn't like the thought of breaking that image by admitting fear."
"So… ego was a part of it?"
Her iya laughed. "Ego is often a part of it and your mother always had ego to spare, but once she admitted her fear to us, we were able to address her fears and help her get past them. Once that was done, she stopped being reckless and focused on trying to be the best mother she could be. The one you remember."
Three pulsed green and listened to her iya's hearts beating. "Are you scared, Iya?"
"Not scared. A little nervous, maybe. I guess I can't help but worry if I'll be a good mother or not."
Three spun in her lap, stared straight into her eyes and then gave her a big hug. "You already are. You just get to be one with your own offspring now. I'm really happy for you, Iya. I love you."
Her iya hugged back, her grip tight but loving. "You have no idea what that means to me, Cortina."
"If Mama was still here she'd punish me for not saying it more often."
"Ha ha, yes, probably. But even so, your father and I never doubted your love, sweetheart. Neither did your mama."
"I know, but I should probably try to be around more…"
"At your age, I'm grateful that you're home as much as you are. By the time your mother and I were your age we had already run away from home."
Three hummed, leaning her head on her iya's chest. Could she really leave now? After all that? Her iya had given her a lot to think about, and a new perspective on her problems. Maybe it would help her solve them and then maybe she could figure out which path was the right one to take.
If there was one thing Three knew for certain, it was that she was afraid and afraid of a great many things.
Author'sNotes:
Not the longest chapter, I grant you, but I hope you enjoyed it. As is common in many relationships, especially first-time relationships, those involved are often the ones getting in their own way.
If you're wondering about Eight's... accident, inklings and octolings both have their funnels on their backs. This is where their ink is expelled from. They don't sweat like humans do, they use their ink as a heatsink and expel it. Longer tentacles allow them to better regulate their heat. Looking at it like that, Pearl being the only idol with a short mantle means she's making quite a statement, heh heh.