Somehow, things are better.
Hafsa finds herself thinking that on the last day before summer vacation. Things aren't perfect, of course, but they are better. She ducks down to reach a locker at the very bottom while a potbelly pig nervously fidgets behind her. Hafsa inspects the combination lock and attempts to twist the dial, but as expected, it's jammed.
"See?" The pig oinks.
"Yep, it's busted." She says nonchalantly. "Don't worry, this is no problem."
She reveals a key in her hand, and inserts it in the discreet bottom opening of the lock, which springs open with a small click. Removing the contraption, she proudly swings the door open, revealing the pig's personal assortment of items.
"Ta-da!" She smiles, once again standing up to tower over the pig.
"Ahh, you're a lifesaver, Pres!" He practically sobs. "My parents are picking me up any second now. Of all times for my lock to break!"
"I can help you pack everything up." The serval offers.
"That'd be amazing! You're the best!"
'You're the best'… it's been a while since she's heard that. The words caressed her long satellite ears like an angel's feather. Sweet validation. She'd thought she'd seen the last of it after the vice presidential election, but thanks to CHAMP doing their thing and creating excuses for her to reaffirm her authority among both carnivores and herbivores, she's nearly back to the caliber of popularity she had been at the start of the year.
Once the pig's possessions are safely packed up in his bag, he gives her a final thanks. "Sorry to drag you from the barbecue like this."
"That's what I'm here for!" She waves off his apology. "Just glad I could be of help. Are you sure you and your parents don't want to stick around and grab a plate? I hear the corn on the cob is to die for this year!"
"Nah, we got a flight to catch! That's why I was so worried." He chuckles, and hauls his overflowing backpack on his shoulders. "I gotta get going now, but thanks again, Pres! Have a nice summer break!"
"You too!" She waves until the plump student turns the corner. With a final content sigh, she makes her way to the sprawling campus lawn, now hazy with the smoke of freshly grilled veggies. Maneuvering her way around the menagerie, she returns to the table reserved for student council members.
"Everything okay?" Brian asks over a mouthful of bell pepper.
"Yeah, the skeleton key fixed it quick." She shows off the petite key that flashes in the sunlight.
"Can it really open every locker in the school?" The student council's newest member, a house sparrow named Missy, asks.
Hafsa nods. "All of the student ones, yeah. With great power comes great responsibility."
Hafsa likes Missy very much. Somewhere around last month, the student council was forced to admit that handling their duties without the vice-presidential manpower was just too unsustainable. There were only so many all-nighters Hafsa could pull before she started to grow eye bags, one of the seven deadly sins for pretty females. The whole position of vice president had been more or less wrapped up in 'do not cross' tape, but after some debate, they decided the most prudent thing to do was to recruit the previous candidate with the highest GPA (and disqualifying both Ezekiel and Toma for obvious reasons). Despite the lack of democracy in the process, something told them the school wasn't too eager to recreate the election debate, so the student body accepted the decision with a spoonful of sugar.
Thus, Missy was crowned Vice President. True to her nature as a sparrow, she's a quiet, diligent and amiable female. Though lacking the previous VP's speed in resolving problems and overall directness, she is a fine replacement in every sense of the word. Frankly, Hafsa would have kissed her for just doing the bare minimum.
Wishful thinking on Hafsa's part makes her believe the worst is over. With a reformed student council and the indirect support of CHAMP at their backs, perhaps the wounds between herbivore and carnivore can finally begin to heal.
She nearly laughs out loud. Of course not. How many times has she thought that her troubles were over? So long as DAVID exists, and consequently CHAMP, relationships between carnies and herbies would only ever be seen as a war.
A war, indeed. That's what it has become. She thinks of the small herbivores, scared of their own classmates. How would she feel if she lived and slept with others that could easily devour her, regardless of their intentions? She thinks of the larger herbivores, consumed by hatred in order to protect the ones they care about. She thinks of Toma, who only wanted a friend, now saddled with the weight of representing all carnivores of the academy. She thinks of Desmond, who volunteered to share that burden.
Sacrifices all around. Sacrifices made to keep her where she is now. Does she even have the right to call herself student council president? Despite her efforts to keep the peace, her utmost priority was always herself. She cannot lose. If only servals were social animals, she concludes miserably, before pushing those thoughts away once and for all.
She wants to be selfish just a little bit longer. Maybe just for summer vacation.
"C-could I have another glass of water?"
Eloise raises a brow.
"This is the third glass you've asked in fifteen minutes."
Desmond can't help it. Despite all the water, his throat is as dry as a desert. This is his first time in Eloise's room after all.
In typical Eloise fashion, she had called him on the first day of vacation, demanding he visit her university the very same day. Unable to provide any kind of excuse despite his own reluctance, he agreed.
The tour was unimpressive; the hare isn't particularly stellar at describing things in a riveting manner. It was also incredibly long. Despite her monotonous tone, Eloise seemed to know just about everything regarding every building, pavilion and statue, leading her boyfriend to believe she must have done considerable research in preparation. The thought alone made the painfully detailed tour a bit more bearable. It was also the longest time he'd ever heard her speak in one go. By the time Eloise was out of words, the sun had all but set.
"Should we go to the cafeteria for some dinner?" Desmond asked.
"We have kitchens in our dorm rooms." Was all the hare answered before grabbing him by the hand and dragging him to the one building she had neglected to show him: the female herbivores dormitories.
Her room is certainly a step up from Noah's Arc's setup. The layout is larger and she doesn't have to share it with a roommate (which only further panicked Desmond), along with the aforementioned kitchen setup near the front door. Unfortunately for the male, the room's feng shui is the last thing on his mind right now. Eloise may be a herbie, but he knows she could pounce at any moment.
For now, she's playing nice. Handing him his third glass of water, she stares at his bobbing Adam's apple as he downs the glass in one go.
He sheepishly sets the glass down once empty, looking at a random medical chart posted on the wall. "Thanks. I was thirsty."
"Evidently." Her tone remains unimpressed. "You can relax. I'm not going to leap at you when your back is turned."
"Wh-who said that?" The ram's eyes widen, feigning innocence.
"Body language."
The ram needs to change the subject, and fast. Searching for conversation topics, he wanders deeper into the studio when an assortment of colors catches the corner of his eye. A cabinet beside Eloise's bed nearly reaches the ceiling, each shelf filled to the brim with bright, sparkling crystals encased in plastic displays. Taped to the corner of each display was a small label, identifying each crystal but also some random adjectives: 'cleansing', 'protection', 'inspiration' and so on.
"What's this?" Desmond asks, somewhat entranced by the beauty of the gems.
"My crystal collection. It's still a work in progress." She joins his side.
"In progress? It looks like there are enough rocks to open a museum."
"You'd be surprised just how many minerals exist."
"This one is pretty." The ram points to a marbled, striped stone, rich in brown and golden yellow tones lined in silky stripes.
"That's Tiger's Eye." Eloise explains. "It's said to express divine vision."
Desmond scans through the description below. "Vitality… Courage… Chakra? Is this like a spell or something?"
"It's the crystal's properties. For example, Tiger's Eye helps you have more vitality and courage. It's associated with the manipura chakra, which is located right here." She taps a delicate finger on Desmond's solar plexus.
Desmond is absolutely befuddled. "You… believe in this stuff?"
"Obviously not." Eloise makes a face. "You'd have to be an idiot to believe a rock can affect tantric energy or manifest emotions."
The ram breathes an internal sigh of relief.
"It's just fun to think about." Her unaffected voice betrays a slight emotion. "Everyone needs a hobby."
"That's a surprisingly wholesome thing to collect."
"What were you expecting?"
"Coins. Insect taxidermy. Syringes."
"You really think I'm some kind of serial killer, don't you?" Though her tone is jovial, he senses he may have hurt her feelings, something he was previously unaware she had.
"N-no…!" He suddenly finds himself fumbling for words. "I guess I just don't know much about you, even after all this time."
The sheep's half-surprised he blurted that out. His lack of knowledge of Eloise's personal life comes as a revelation even to himself.
Eloise lacks his sense of epiphany however. "You know enough. The most important aspects at least. Unlike you, I don't find myself thrown into some intricate conspiratorial conflict every other week. I suppose my life sounds boring by comparison."
"I'd prefer that kind of life." Desmond sighs, plopping himself down on her bed.
His partner rolls her eyes and joins him. "Spoken like the protagonist of a bargain bin detective novel."
"Don't tease."
"What would our relationship be if I stopped?"
"Fair point." He can't help but let out a weary chuckle. "I'm just wondering where all of this is going."
"Wherever you take it." Eloise says simply.
That's all Desmond could hope to hear. A highly unsatisfying yet quintessentially true answer. That's all good advice is, anyways. The obvious solution that ends up being ignored.
"I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess. I feel like it's all we ever talk about."
"If I didn't enjoy it, we wouldn't discuss it."
Desmond's voice lowers. "Then I should thank you. For everything you've done, for your help, for listening. You're… very special."
For the first time today, Eloise doesn't have a snappy comeback. Instead, she falls silent, her twitching nose and ears emulating the maelstrom in her mind.
"Let me tell you something I've never told anyone else, then." She begins in an uncharacteristically soft tone. "I'm afraid of horror movies."
That's… random.
"Okay." The ram mumbles, unsure of what else to say.
"I know it's all fake of course. I'm not an idiot. I always look up the movie summary so I know exactly what to expect, down to the timecode of every jumpscare." She continues. "But hares… we startle easily when it comes to sudden noises and movements. I manage fine in my daily life but… those movies seem to attack the instincts."
"Then we won't go see any." Desmond nods. He's definitely lost some years off of his lives thanks to movies like those.
A subtle, almost invisible smile traces Eloise's lips. "That's all. It's not much of a secret… But you're the only one who knows."
The honor of this title doesn't escape him. Out of all the bizarre animals Desmond has met in his life— and boy, has he met some weirdos— he's never met one quite like Eloise. Indelicate, irritable, lacking any and all subtlety, demanding, hard to understand and harder to please. Yet also, intelligent, efficient, astonishingly funny, confident, honest and unique. It's thanks to her that Noah's Arc hasn't fallen apart yet, that CHAMP exists, that Desmond feels hopeful for the first time in a long time. And now, looking at her candid face, colored by her chestnut fur and playful scar, he understands that her confession isn't about horror movies at all. It's about returning his hope.
He leans in, closing the gap between them. His palm presses down on the sheets beneath them, causing her to slide closer. The kiss is gentle but forthright, like a summer breeze lifting a lost sunhat in its embrace. That is until the ram can feel a switch flip inside the hare.
She deepens the kiss, turning it into a savage autumn bluster, taking him off guard. In a swift movement, she escapes the mattress's dent and wraps her thighs around his, pressing up against him in a very… energizing way. He struggles to keep up until at last, she backs off for air. As their chests rise and fall together, Desmond dares to look into her dark piercing eyes, now terrifying for completely different reasons.
"Are you sure?" She demands breathily. "Final warning."
His heart. It's pounding. That odious sound, that mortifying sensation. His first time had been nothing like this. A part of him, perhaps too big a part he'd care to admit, wanted to run, to hide his heart, shelter it and let it slowly settle from its pulsating rampage. But a much louder part of him just said:
Yes.
AN: Thank you for reading. Slowed down a bit with this chapter, letting everyone take a breath and come to terms with their situations. Things are looking good but fragile. What could possibly go wrong now?
Shoutout to Eloise, who never had to cook dinner that night.
Take it easy and stay safe.