Eloise's afternoon began like many others: with her tongue down Desmond's throat. Although she preferred it when her boyfriend went to her university dorm, the start of his second semester means he's far more indisposed to leave his campus. So every now and then, she drops by to… destress. And Eloise is a very stressed individual.

Currently, she's straddling him as his lies on the bottom bunk of his dorm bed, pinning him against the wall with legs stretched out under her vicegrip-like thighs. One hand on the small of her back, the other supporting their weight against the mattress, Desmond's eyes close in intense concentration. Eloise rarely took things slow, and this evening is no exception. She slides her hands up his chest and grips his shirt collar, and before he knows any better, his shirt is halfway unbuttoned. Desmond often tells her she'll be the best surgeon in the world with hands as dexterous as hers.

But once the cold begins to tickle the ram's now exposed chest, his eyes snap back open, and he breaks the kiss.

"No," he muttered, voice ragged and out of breath. "My roommate's coming back soon."

"Then let's be quick."

Unassuaged, he shakes her off. "C'mon…"

She petulantly flops to her side, sliding off of the male's lap with a dissatisfied groan. "To the think the female needs to beg the male for sex…"

"I don't recall you ever begging."

She shoots him a glare before sluggishly sitting up, semi-sprawled on the bedsheets. "And you never will."

Desmond smirks, brows furrowed in apology. "Wanna eat something before going?"

"I've lost my appetite." She huffs as she attempts to straighten out her wirey fur.

The sheep looks at her, a little bemused. Eloise usually doesn't sulk after a makeout sesh, even if it's interrupted.

"Wanna do something this weekend, then?" He offers instead.

His bribe is not received well. "I doubt I'll have the time. You forget that I never ask to go on dates."

"This may be shocking to you, but you have to go on dates if you're dating someone."

"Didn't I state from the very beginning that I am not interested in whatever romantic platitudes expected of couples?"

Desmond frowns. "We might as well just be friends with benefits at this point."

Eloise seems to consider it. "I doubt you'd be interested in that."

The sheep flares up. They've had miniature versions of these types of arguments before, but they've never extended past dismissive sarcasm. But the hare's callous attitude is beginning to genuinely frustrate him.

"Just leave. I've clearly wasted your time."

His girlfriend sighs. Now it's her turn to deal with a temper tantrum.

"Don't be like that. I can make time for dinner on Saturday."

Desmond seems to falter, before returning to his previous gloom. "I'm busy."

The hare's ear twitches. "With what?"

"Uh… I have plans with a friend."

"What kind of plans?"

"Y'know, a birthday party."

"Whose?"

"…Hafsa's."

"The cheetah?"

"Serval."

"Whatever."

"I wasn't trying to hide it or anything." He says quickly. "Plenty of other people are going. It's kind of a regional holiday here, really. And—"

Eloise plants a finger on his meandering lips. "It's fine, Desmond. Do you really think I'd be jealous?"

"…kInda?"

"Please," she snorts. "You don't need to avoid that female on my account. It doesn't matter to me how much time you spend with her, or even whether you sleep with her."

"Well, that's good, I guess—" The ram's eyes widen.

"Wait, what?" He is taken aback. "You don't care if I sleep with her?"

"No." The hare shrugs. "You're your own animal."

"Whu—spuh—thah— that's crazy!" Desmond spits. "Have you been sleeping with other males?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She scoffs. "I know you wouldn't be comfortable with that."

"That's why?!"

"Oh for God's sake—" Eloise pinches between her eyebrows. "Don't make me sound like some common whore."

"I-It's not that—" Desmond sputters. "But—but you genuinely want to be just friends with benefits!"

The female seems insistent now. "No, no… Listen, you wouldn't want to be just that, right?"

"Obviously."

"So I'm fine with playing along to whatever you think a monogamous relationship is. I don't mind, really. You're still the most important factor in the equation."

"I'm supposed to be the only factor!"

She scoffs again, more violently this time. "Do you hear how you sound right now? You sound like a child!"

"Yeah, 'cus wanting noncommittal sex with no strings attached sounds so mature!"

Eloise groans, stomping away from Desmond. She flings the dorm exit door open looks back with a frigid expression.

"You're clearly too hysterical to be reasoned with now. Text me once you've calmed down."

Desmond seethes. "Why fucking should I? You wouldn't care either way!"

"Goodbye, Desmond."

She slams the door shut, but somehow managed to find a way to make that sound passive aggressive too. It pissed Desmond the hell off.

Who does she fuckin' think she is? He grumbles internally. Treatin' me like some dumb kid…

He paces a small rut around his dorm until his roommate returns and catches him in a death spiral, prompting the ram to forcibly cool off. Once the stinging rage subsides, he decides to turn in early for the night, suddenly tired.

The next morning, he texts Eloise, leaving the previous altercation ignored and unmentioned. They rarely ever resolved arguments, only leaving them sizzling behind them as if they cannot feel the heat. Plans are made for the weekend. Desmond attends Hafsa's birthday party and it is indeed as innocent as he made it sound, except for the fact that Desmond knew that it wasn't. The couple cordons off some time on Sunday for a brunch near Eloise's university.

"How was the party?" The hare began once they had settled in the open-air seating.

Extravagantly Hafsa. Her love for any and all festivities celebrating herself continues into her 18th year. And now that her special day fell on a weekend, there was no stopping her party-planning ambitions. The event was held at a semi-famous club, who at the monetary behest of Papa Hafsa, had sectioned off an area for the birthday girl and her esteemed guests. All of the usual suspects were there, and then some, as if to overcompensate for last year's smaller-scale affair. The turnout was huge, as one could expect, and as if to showcase her never-ending goodwill, even some DAVID members were invited, though even less actually showed up (mercifully, that included Ezekiel).

The night was full of loud music, flashing colorful nights, overflowing, sweaty dance floors and other things Desmond despised, but at least the serval had enough common sense to keep alcohol far away from that equation. Desmond had some lackluster conversations with what classmates he did recognize, though he could hardly hear half of it over the booming dance music, and barely caught a glimpse of Hafsa at all.

"It was whatever." He concludes.

"How eloquent."

By the time their food arrives, they've moved on to several other topics. Despite both of them lacking in social skills, at least they never run out of things to say to each other.

"Naturally, my siblings were furious," Eloise simpers, bringing her glass of orange juice to her lips. "But then again, I was always the first to wake up. So they should've known it was first come first serve."

"Growing up with siblings really makes you competitive…" Desmond nods, reflecting on his own brothers.

"That's why I'm glad to not be an only child."

"Funny, I wish I were an only child every day."

"That wouldn't do," His lover tuts. "Then you wouldn't have your lovely inferiority complex."

"Maybe you should go into psychiatry instead of medicine." The ram snarks.

Eloise simply chuckles, but suddenly her eyes pick up a particular pattern that make her ears stand up straight.

The pattern of brown and white feathers.

Desmond notices her sudden change in attitude, and tries to follow her line of sight, finally spotting what has her so alert.

A horned owl, dressed in the restaurant's uniform, taking orders from a nearby table.

Iris.

"…Should we leave?" Desmond suggests tentatively.

For a moment, Eloise doesn't answer. Her lightless eyes still hone in on the bird, as if she were the hunter honing in on her prey.

"No reason to." She says finally, and takes a noticeably firmer sip of her drink.

"…Are you sure?"

"Drop it."

It's dropped. For a while, they return to their previous conversation, or at least a cheap imitation of it. But the male can sense Eloise's body spark in uncomfortable bristles with every centimeter the owl approaches. Luckily, Iris didn't seem to spot them yet, but the ram fears it's only a matter of time, especially with the hare's very noticeable ears.

"We really should go." He tries one more time to end the charade once the owl leaves their line of sight. "I'll pay and we can go somewhere better."

"I need to use the restroom." Unceremoniously, the lagomorph shoots straight up and speedwalks towards the inside of the restaurant. Desmond lets out grunts of protest, but doesn't follow her. With a weary sigh, he accepts his fate to squirm around in his chair for a while longer.

The inside of the female bathroom is empty, smelling of water and some citrusy cleaning product. Eloise stations herself in front of a mirror and just stares.

Into her eyes.

At her whiskers.

At her scar.

She looks at her scar for a while longer. She had long since memorized its path down her face, like a river on a map. She knew every inch of it, every minute detail, as if she had been born with it.

She stares at it until Iris is by her side.

"Your turn to stalk me now?" The bird of prey says, only looking at her through their reflection.

"As if you occupy even a modicum of my thoughts."

"And yet you're here."

"I figured you'd have something to say to me."

"I don't."

"Then why are you here?"

"I figured you'd be waiting."

Eloise twitches her whiskers. "So it appears we've both wasted our time."

"It's not too late for me to kill you."

The hare nearly giggles. "I didn't know you could be funny."

Iris nearly smiles back. "Thanks to you, I kind of lost my sense of humor."

A beat passes.

"The food service industry fits you well." Eloise comments, looking at the name tag on the owl's reflection. 'Hi, my name is Iris!' It says.

"Because I'm a carnivore?"

"Because it pays minimum wage."

Iris chuckles humorlessly. "I didn't know you could be funny either."

"I'm not joking."

This time, Eloise looks to her side, staring at Iris' real eyes. "If you're here to try and make me feel bad about myself for what I did, I don't. I would do it all over again. You deserve your life."

Iris doesn't blink. "I would never assume you'd ever apologize for anything you've done. That's just the kind of animal you are."

"So we're on the same page."

"Not quite." The beaked female shakes her head. "Do you think I'm unhappy?"

"I should hope so."

"I'm not. Last year, I started going to therapy. To try to undo the damage you've done." Iris steps towards the marbled countertop, swiping a hand under the sink faucet and activating the quiet stream of water to flow. "I like my job. I like my life. In a way, I should be thanking you. If you weren't such a heinous bitch."

Eloise says nothing, allowing Iris to continue.

"I learned a lot about myself since then. About all the things I did wrong, and about all the things I should have forgiven myself for. My therapist even made me apologize to you once, in a letter. I threw it out after I was done, of course."

She scrubs her hands, humming under the warm water. "I made new friends, and moved back in with my parents. And I get along with my coworkers. For the first time in my life, I feel happy. Now that I don't need to compete with animals like you. I can just…exist."

As much as Eloise wants to say something to anger her, and tear the shards of hope from the owl's clutches, and make her stretch her hands on the countertop so that she can see each one of the talon's that scarred the hare's face, she stays silent.

What is Iris trying to make her feel? Guilt? Regret? She couldn't be further from that. In fact, the owl's saccharine little speech only embroils her heart in a stinging venom. Who cares if she's forgiven herself? Who cares about her idiotic mental health journey? As if she's not the one with blood on her hands. As if she's not the predator. Every loss of life opportunities is only the natural consequence of her violence.

"You can't escape it." Eloise says, in a voice much smaller than she would have liked. "You can't run from who you are."

"This is the only time I've ever stopped running from who I am." The bird of prey says simply.

She tears a paper towel from the dispenser, passing by the smaller female. "Well, I need to get back to work. I picked up your tab, so order as much as you want."

Eloise is alone once more, staring at the same reflection from before.

Into her eyes.

At her whiskers.

At her scar.

Her goddamn scar.

Desmond licks his glass, lapping up the last few drops of juice out of boredom. Or maybe nervousness is the better word. Although he'd love to believe his girlfriend is currently not getting mauled by a horned owl, there are enough precedents that makes ruling out that hypothetical scenario impossible.

If she isn't back in ten seconds, I'm going after her.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Zero.

…Okay. If she isn't back in more ten seconds, I'm going after her.

Ten.

Nine.

She's seated across to him by eight.

"Oh," Desmond exclaims, fumbling with his glass. "You're back."

"You're right. Let's go someplace better."

"Wha— okay?" He reaches for his wallet. "Should I look for nearby restaurants?"

"Forget food." The hare barks. "We're going to my place."

The male is far too scared to argue. For once, Eloise is the one who insists on picking up the bill, paying it in full herself and even leaving a very generous tip for their server.

And an even bigger tip for another waitress.

AN: Thank you for reading.

I originally, back before writing any S&S, planned for Desmond's roommate to have a chapter all to himself. I never made it fit comfortably in the story so I scrapped it, but maybe one day.

There's a hare that's been staying around the yard outside my house. I see her lying in the tree shade to escape the hot summer sun. I've been calling her Eloise.

Take it easy and stay safe.