My nose is blocked when I wake up in the late afternoon hours. I sniff and cough, circling my fingertips over my sore throat. I feel horrible and when I open my eyes a dull pain rushes through my temples.
"Morning, beautiful girl." Elsa greets me cheerfully. How long has she been up yet?
She already has some red paint in her blonde hair and her face seems to be glowing with excitement.
"You sleep as if you were dead and you snore."
"Sorry about that." I croak, noticing that my throat is so raw as if I had cut it with sharp glass pieces.
"You sound sick. Are you okay?"
I sneeze and when I sit up in the bed I start coughing dryly. Damn it, I hate being sick so very much.
""I'm fine. It's just a cold."
"Do you know what made you sick; going back to bed with your hair all wet. You should have blow-dried it."
"Elsa, it's not going to make me feel better if you give me tips like that."
She sits down next to me, placing a dainty hand carefully on my forehead. Her fingers are cold and that feels incredibly good against my skin.
"I think you have a fever."
"And I think you're not a doctor."
Elsa pulls the blankets over me and plants a kiss on my messy curls before rushing out of my bedroom. I swallow my estrogen pills with a glass of lukewarm water from my nightstand before drifting back to sleep.
The smell of chicken and onions wakes me up again.
"I tried to call Uncle Carter but he was in surgery. Aunt Emily said it would make you feel better to eat some soup, so I made some for you."
"You didn't have to." I mumble, rubbing my tired eyes. My muscles ache and I wonder if I should take some of the cough medicine in the bathroom cabinet.
"I know. But I wanted to. Now be a good girl and open your mouth for me."
The soup is hot, burning my tongue and it tastes like salt and onions with tiny pieces of chicken breast in it.
"Is it good?"
"Hmm,"
She keeps feeding me as if I was a baby and it is not the warmth of the soup that is spreading through me but the unfamiliar feeling of being taken care of. Tears fill my eyes and I take a deep breathe through my sore throat in an attempt to hold them back.
"Are you in pain? I could get you some Aspirin or something."
"No,"
"No, you're not in pain or no, you don't want any meds?"
"There's some Advil in the bathroom. Can you get that for me?"
She returns shortly, handing me a glass filled with orange juice and two pills.
"Here we go. Is there anything else I can get you?"
"Why are you so nice to me?" I whisper hoarsely, wiping some tears from the corner of my eyes.
"Well, firstly because you are sick and secondly, way more important, I care about you."
She leans forward and very gently her lips brush against my dry ones for a moment.
"Don't. You are going to get sick too."
"Me? Never. Don't worry about that. Now, let's see if you have anything to read here, a nice fashion magazine or something."
Opening my nightstand the small folder I put inside of it falls down. Elsa catches it and starts flipping through it. Someone needs to tell this girl the basic rules of respecting other people's privacy.
"Orchiectomy? What is that supposed to be?"
"Please, put that away. I feel awkward for talking about that sort of stuff with you, Elsa."
"But I want to know everything about you. I need to know because you're important to me."
I sigh deeply, finishing the rest of the orange juice before placing it next to me on the ground.
"An Orchiectomy is basically a castration. They remove the testicles and in a result of this I wouldn't need to take the testo blockers anymore."
It also will end my ability to have kids but that topic is so difficult for me that I didn't even want to discuss it with the people in my group.
"But that would be good. Right? I mean you don't want to be on medication for the rest of your life."
"The medication is my life. All that you see here in front of you, that's all because of the estrogen I'm taking. I can never stop with that, never."
"And the testo blockers?"
"Well, I won't need to take these anymore once I get my vaginoplasty. The Orchiectomy would just be…like a step in between. I'm not sure about it though. It's not what I want. I mean…that thing would still be down there."
"Can't you ask your therapist to sign your papers sooner? I mean, you do know what you want. Don't you?"
"Dr. Hans is an asshole. He says I'm not ready for that step. Damn it, I've been ready for that step since I was like two years old."
"Maybe I should talk to him? I can be very, very convincing."
"Elsa, I don't think this is going to work. I probably just have to be a bit more patient for a little while. It's just that now that I met you…things seem even more complicated."
"I'm sorry about that."
"Don't be. It's not your fault. I'm just scared you are going to make a run. Like I told you before; my penis isn't really connected to my brain. I can't control when I get aroused and you made it pretty clear that you don't like it too much."
"Am I…arousing you?" she whispered, letting her fingertips move down my cheekbone.
"Why do you think I took a cold shower this morning? I had to get rid of my erection."
"You could have told me that I was making you uncomfortable."
"I was embarrassed." I mumble, rubbing my aching throat with my hand.
Elsa pulls a scarf out of my closet and wraps it carefully around my neck.
"Thanks. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, of course. I'm asking you so much. It's only fair that you get to ask me something in return."
"Okay," I whisper hoarsely. "I want to know if you have ever been with a guy before."