CORA
Two more hours.
I sat at the shop's counter, sliding my teeth against each other, thumbs kneading at my leash's leather braid.
Mom. I'm sorry...
The leash belonged to her. The ruby and wound-brass charm, an inch from its end, belonged to her. Brumer belonged to her.
It still stung inside, where she released, mixing with Serica's. In the moment, it burned, like transferring a hot cake pan barehanded. The shop was still empty, as I debated whether to unflip the lock and sign or just go.
I caught another tug from Serica and turned my head to the side.
It didn't mean anything. You have a leash, you bond Esprit. We talked about it.
Ser and I both gave each other permission. I promised her I wouldn't be upset, and she did the same for me. Though I didn't expect it to happen this quick, I didn't expect to go first, and I didn't expect it to be Brumer.
She used to take me on park trips...
She didn't seem to mind.
I ran a finger along the leash's length, stopping just short of Brumer's charm; familiar heat radiated from it. I couldn't hide this; it was plain as day.
Fuck- they know each other.
Setting my leash on the counter, I got up and went to the kitchen. I needed space, and she wouldn't appear unless I spoke her name. She could, but she promised not to.
An obvious mess, hand-prints, butt-prints, and leavings waited on the countertop. I grabbed a rag.
It didn't take her long, after I agreed and she pole-flipped, a flash of flame creating her penis. Bonding was supposed to be harder, but she just barely got in me and came.
I closed my eyes, wiping down the kitchen by feel and memory. I didn't need to see to avoid the uneven edge of the cutting board or the missing floor tile we never replaced. Once Dad found someone to cover my shift, it would all be gone.
Not gone, but not the same, and I'm taking her with me.
She stuck around with us, silent in the ovens. He didn't know, but it felt like theft, like the place would be colder without her.
The sting in me flared as I bent to swipe the counter's back, and I straightened back up.
She called you Cherryblossom.
I squeezed the rag tight. Sometimes Esprit got confused. My uncle's bonded mistook him for our great-grandfather. It wasn't rare.
She's probably just wistful.
She seemed to know the difference; their essence filtered over decades, and it had only been nine months.
Either way, it happened. I put everything on display, outside her oven window. She asked, and I told her it was okay.
"You're still here?" Dad asked, the kitchen stairs creaking beneath him as he stifled a yawn.
I shoved my rag deep into its bucket, "Y-yeah, two more hours, Daddy..." eyes tearing over the space, making sure I didn't miss anything.
Why's he up?
"I figured you would duck after the rush, first-day jitters." He palmed a sausage roll from the top rack I'd saved for last. He was tall and broad-shouldered. I could only spot his bald spot when he sat.
"I can handle cleanup. How'd it go, over, under average?" he said, turning toward the storefront to check the till.
My leash!
I could not let him see it. My thoughts stuttered. I needed an excuse, a distraction, something to pull him away. I had nothing.
"Wait!" I shouted and rushed my Dad, palms forward into his gut. He didn't budge. I rebounded and bolted for the till.
Don't look!
"What, Coraline-?" he chuckled and nipped off the end of his roll, amused eyes through his smudged glasses.
It finally came to me.
"Present! In the open, didn't expect you up-"
Please! My eyes pleaded.
"Oh- Alright," he turned and sat against the kitchen counter, "Go ahead. You got me a gift, for your first day?"
I did not just call this, Brumer, a gift.
I needed to throw up.
"Yes... but, it's not done yet, okay? You have to wait." I held the doorframe with both hands, making sure he wouldn't move.
He tugged his beard, brown, bushy, "Now I feel bad, I should have gotten you something."
No!
He was paying my tuition, holding down a shop while I ran off to play prestigious academy girl with my best friend who may or may not have gotten me pregnant.
And I'd just... I'd just...
I turned through the door, I couldn't show him my eyes, then rushed to the shop-counter. Palming the leash, the connection, my desperation, it kicked, went rigid and ignited, a barmace of solid flame, Mom's barmace, extending from it's grip.
"Fuaaa-!"
"Cora!?" I heard him fumble at the counter.
"Do not! All- all good in here..." I fumbled with the thing, trying to keep my wrist straight.
Fuck!
I was not going to say her name, tell her to quit, I couldn't, he couldn't hear. My pack was at my feet, I grabbed the strap, "Going now! No peeking, love you Daddy!"