Chioniphobia

Shading

"I like your fake shadows," Grim said.

The púca, sitting cross-legged on a flat rock, glanced up at her bemusedly. "My what?"

Self-conscious, she pointed at the piece of paper in his paws. "You know, those...things that look like shadows."

He squinted at the charcoal sketch. "My shading?"

"That's what it's called then. Right."

He laughed, not unkindly, and Grim crossed her arms with an exaggerated pout.

"Don't mock, I'm trying to compliment your drawing!"

"The fake shadows look good then?"

"You're terrible."

"Ya know, my fake shadows have really improved. When I started out my fake shadows were a proper shemozzle."

"I hate you."

"But you don't hate my fake shadows?"

She attempted to smother a giggle and failed. "You're incorrigible."

"Ah, but I must be corrigible. How else would I have improved my fake shadows?"

Grim sat down next to the flat rock and leaned on the púca, her head just below his shoulder. "Meanie."

He ruffled her hair. "You love me."

"Unfortunately, yes."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Grim hasn't visited the Warren for decades, but when she enters it's as if she'd been there yesterday. Everything is the same: the grass growing green and vibrant, with no heed for the weather outside; the flowers, clustered or peppered about, brightly colored and sweetly scented; the golems, moss growing all over their stone bodies. They stand and switch to their happy faces in order to greet her, and she smiles back.

"Hello, dears. Did you miss me?"

She finds Bunny sitting on the riverbank. Instead of a paintbrush and egg, he has a charcoal stick and a piece of paper. His eyes are thoughtful as he taps the stick against his chin, inadvertently giving himself a sooty goatee.

She makes sure to rustle the grass as she approaches, even though she's fairly certain he was aware of her presence from the moment she stepped into the Warren.

"D'ya fancy my fake shadows?" he jokes.

"You are incorrigible."

He looks up from his sketch. The green of his eyes almost burns her.

"You haven't visited in a while."

"Why would you want me to?"

"Do you not want to?"

She licks her thumb and swipes his chin with it. Instead of losing the charcoal goatee, Bunny gains a soot sideburn. Grim is half-tempted to give him one on the other side for the sake of symmetry.

Instead, she tells him "You've some smudges on your face."

He scrubs at his chin with the paw not holding the charcoal. "How about now?"

"Now you've smudges on your face and your hand."

Bunny smirks and boops her nose with said appendage. "Well, looks like I'm not the only one."

"Menace."

He laughs, setting aside his art supplies and rising from the bank. "You've missed me, haven't you?"

"My heart aches every moment apart from you, darling. Did you miss me?"

"Like a thorn in my side. Want to go for a walk?"

They stroll around for a bit. Grim comments on some of the new flower arrangements, Bunny talks about the latest color combinations he's tried, and for fifteen minutes Grim can almost pretend The Incident never happened.

But it did happen, and the memory digs at her, its sharp point burrowing deeper and deeper into her chest.

The pain must show in her eyes, because Bunny pauses in the middle of a monologue about use of the secondary color wheel and puts a paw on her shoulder. "What's eating you?"

She chews her tongue. She'd like to just say "Nothing," and keep pretending that they've been like this forever. They nearly have, really- years and years of joking and teasing and arguments that never really went anywhere, but that last part didn't matter because it was less about making their point and more about trying to outwit the other.

It had only been thirty-one years since everything had changed, but it already felt like it'd been centuries.

"What happened-" she begins, and he knows what she's talking about immediately. Of course he does.

"We don't have to talk about it."

She clenches her hands into fists. "What is that supposed to mean? You're acting like it doesn't matter."

"It doesn't. You didn't mean to-"

"But I did. You shouldn't have to be afraid of a friend hurting you, Pookie."

He stands across from her, putting his other paw on her other shoulder. "I'm not saying I should, but accidents happen. Sometimes we just have to leave things in the past."

"Exactly. You're still clinging-"

Bunny releases her shoulders. "I'm still clinging? What about you? I'm ready to move past this, Grim. I have been for years. Why d'you keep saying-"

"This isn't something we can just move past. We both know it."

"No, we don't! We don't both know it, because I still haven't a bloody idea why it bloody matters! You just disappeared-"

Grim scoffs. "Don't tell me you wanted to see me after that."

"Yes! Yes, I did, because I wanted you to tell me what was wrong!"

"And I did tell you. You're just not willing-"

"It doesn't matter, Grimace. It was a mistake, an accident."

"You're just not willing face the fact that you're scared of me."

He draws himself up to his full height, glares down at her. "Shut it."

She tenses, biting her cheek until she feels her teeth break skin. "Don't pretend like it-"

"It doesn't matter, Grim. It's never mattered. Why should you care if I'm scared of you? You're the bloody Reaper! Everyone's a little scared of you."

"You act like it doesn't matter, but it does. Do you think we can really be friends if you're looking over your shoulder every time I'm behind you, wondering whether you'll get a scythe in the back?"

"You're exaggerating. You'd never-"

The blade slashes his throat, and he collapses to the ground.

Grim stands over him, watching scarlet spatter on the grass.

That would make a lovely color for your egg dye, she thinks, and nearly laughs even as vomit rises in her throat.

Bunny composes himself and stands, the gash in his neck already closing. Grim's relieved to see it was a clean cut- she isn't sure what she'd do if Bunny had been forced to explain the scar across his jugular to his fellow Guardians.

"Alright, so maybe you would. Does it make a difference?"

Even as he says it, she sees the tightness in his shoulders, the muscles in his legs tensing as he prepares for fight or flight.

She wipes the forming tears from her eyes and sees a charcoal streak lining her wrist.

"All the difference in the world."

Grim leaves, and Bunny collapses onto the grass, finally allowing himself to tremble.

"Strewth. What the bloody blazes, Grimace?"