Vol.4 Rewrite, Chapter XII — Our Kind of Normal

My girlfriend was making a very amusing face. It was a mix of embarrassment and pride, two opposing forces that were very much justified. I too was feeling very proud of her, especially about how she faced Mathilda’s confession of us being her female best friends. It really showed how far Violet had come from the very shy and awkward girl she was when we first met. I was a bit jelly too over how clearly she stated to Mathilda how she feels about her, but on the other hand, that mumbling she did telling me I was her best friend was cuter, so I couldn’t complain much.

As for the embarrassment, well… that was also justified, and I was a bit guilty of that too. Those little slip ups we had that got us acting lovey-dovey in front of Mathilda… and the big one of this morning too.

This morning, as was our normal, we got up and went to the bathroom together. I stood while Violet used the toilet and we brushed our teeth, us switching places when she was done with her business. The toilet was still flushing when we came face-to-face with Mathilda in the corridor and we were reminded that it wasn’t that usual, maybe even for couples, to use the toilet together. Explaining to her that whether or not we used it together depended on what exactly we needed to do there didn’t help either. In fact, it might have made it worse because we were showing—telling, in this case—something very private about our lives together.

“You ok?” Violet asked, bumping her hip on me. “Your face is unusually red.”

“Just thinking about our first conversation with Mathilda this morning.”

“Oh… yeah, that explains it.”

Violet’s house was coming into view, marking the end of our time together as I was going to my place to spend some time with dad and sis after walking Violet home. It was around ten in the morning, so there was no need for me to come inside any further than the hallway, Oliver having already been taken care of by Papa Stan, so I’d just give that murderous furball a belly rub, scratch behind his ears, and a few pats to his rear today.

Or so I thought because after we got inside, he was nowhere to be seen.

“That’s strange,” Violet commented, using me for balance as she took off her sandals.

She took the few steps needed to peek inside the living room, and she cocked her head back with her brow furrowed, having seen something that deeply confused her.

She gestured me to come see whatever it was that was causing that reaction.

Once I was done taking off my shoes and got by her side, I had the exact same reaction than her.

Sitting on the couch were three people. Well, two people and a cat, but with the way Oliver always acted, I’ll include him in the human count.

Papa Stan sat very close to my sister who had her head hanging down while hugging Oliver, his front paws dangling in the air, while Violet’s dad rubbed her back. Stan was dressed like he always was when inside the house, but my sister was kinda dressed up.

“She had a bit too much to drink last night,” he told us in a low voice as he held a finger to his lips, telling us to keep our voices low.

My sister did? I never thought she would drink outside maybe a glass of wine during one of those boring dinners and lunches mum forced us to go to.

“Are you ok?” I asked sis, crouching down in front of her and resting my hands on her knees. Her face was somehow even paler than Violet’s when I first met her.

“Abby… I feel like dying here,” my sister whined. “My whole body hurts, my head is splitting by the seams and I feel like vomiting despite having nothing at all in my stomach right now. The room keeps spinning too.”

That sounded horrible. And it also woke up something in Violet because I saw her dashing towards the kitchen. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but by the sound of it, she had gone to fetch the bag of green peas she kept in the freezer for bumps, twists and fevers. Sure enough, she came back with it and told me to sit by sis so she can rest her head on my thighs while she went to grab some medicine from the bathroom.

I know I shouldn’t be happy, but seeing Violet’s motherly side aimed at Sophie was making me feel that way.

“So sis, how did you end up drinking too much?” I asked her, scratching Oliver’s head as a thanks, sis still clinging to him. He didn’t look too comfortable being held like that in such a stuffy house, but he was helping Sophie feel more comfortable, so he was enduring it.

“Urgh… I thought I shouldn’t be stuck inside the house, so I thought I should do something people my age normally would on a Saturday night.”

“So… you decided to go get drunk?” Violet interrupted, holding some aspirin, a glass of water, and a confused expression.

“Not at all,” sis groaned. “I had a cocktail once that was alcohol free, so I ordered some while sitting at the bar, but… once I got up…”

“She didn’t know she had to ask for a ‘virgin’ cocktail,” Stan added, speaking in a non-judgemental tone but also taking the chance to educate us on the matter. “The one she asked is very sweet, so the alcohol isn’t noticeable until you get up. And once she did get up, the alcohol hit her like a bag of bricks. Easy mistake to make if you never drunk before.”

“That’s… wow.”

“Yeah. Lucky for her, I was around the area with Paul’s dad, so I brought her here. She didn’t want William—your dad, to see her like this.”

Ah yes, the “Miss Perfection” act was still going strong in her decision-making. Mum really messed my sister up.

“…Anyway, it’s not that I don’t want you here Sophie, but I think you should go back to your place,” Violet told Sophie while now being the one crouched down by her side. “This place is too hot for someone feeling as sick as you are.”

“But… dad… what about—”

“I’ll take you home and explain what happened to him,” Stan told her. “Don’t worry, William won’t be mad at you. A bit worried, but no father worth his salt wouldn’t if they saw their daughter feeling sick. He already knows you spent the night here anyway.”

Good think it was Papa Stan we were talking about here, otherwise, that could generate a huge misunderstanding.

My sister was still a bit reluctant to go home, but she agreed to it. She also almost walked out still holding Oliver, but him squirming in her hold reminded her that she was still hugging him against her chest.

As a reward, I went to prepare his majesty’s bath and hat, Oliver letting out a long sigh once he got in the cool water. I heard him let out another one when I was about to go inside. He had his head up and was looking around the small backward with a satisfied look. He did do a great job helping sis.

“Once you’re done soaking, go to your bowls. I’m leaving there a treat for you.”

He meowed a thank you before resting his little head on the rim, the perfect example of a relaxed cat. Ignoring the fact he was in water all the way up to his neck, that is.

Coming inside the living room, I saw Violet sitting on the couch in a very unlady-like posture in front of the fan, the skirt of her dress ballooning every time it blew directly at her, and with the bag of green peas on her head to help her cool off. I soon joined her after leaving a bit of Oliver’s favourite yogurt on his small plate.

“Give me some of that,” I told Violet, pulling her by the shoulders so she’d turn toward me and I could also have my forehead pressed against the cold bag.

“You’re not going after your sister?” she asked in a low tone, making sure we could both equally enjoy the bag, her breath tickling my face.

“She’s with Papa Stan, so she’s in good hands. Besides, I still need to thank you for having been so nice to my sister right now.”

“…Was I really that nice?”

“Didn’t you just take care of her and made sure she was more comfortable since the moment you arrived until she left?”

“…I guess I kinda was,” she said, still not sounding convinced.

“…But?”

“…But I feel like the only reason why I worried about her right now was because she reminded me of you when I went to pick you up from the hotel. I can’t feel like I was genuinely being nice to her when what motivated me into action was that.”

Violet being unnecessary complicated as usual. Maybe she should consider a job as a philosopher with how she scrutinises the simples of things.

“Well, I still think you did a very nice thing. If it counts for anything, you sure did your little girlfriend very happy with how you acted.”

She smiled at me and said that it meant a lot. And that it did help her accept that maybe she had being nice after all, even if just a little bit. Baby-steps progress, but progress still.

Then, her demeanour changed. She began giving me a lonely look and her hands came to rest on mine. She was missing me already even though I wasn’t intending on leaving for the next fifteen minutes or so. But it got me thinking about leaving, and so did my attitude towards her change.

“Babe?” I called, my voice coming a bit hoarse.

“Yes, honey?”

“…I know it’s hot as hell, but… could we?”

She thought about it for a moment, but the mood around us and my pleading voice were too much to resist.

She got up holding my hand and guided me to our bedroom after storing back the peas in the freezer.

Today… today, I’d finally ask her about it.

◊◊◊

After we finished making love, I really got worried about her, thinking that I might have almost killed my girlfriend. Abby was supper red, panting like she had sprinted a marathon, unable to talk and with zero control over her body. She even begun slapping me, but I soon realised that what she was trying to do was hug my neck, and the rest of the pieces fell in place soon after.

Now, she was resting her head on my shoulder, her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat that slowly trickled down, one leg crossed over my hips, one hand that I was holding on my chest, practically glued to me in general. Despite how uncomfortable that might sound, she had a huge grin on her face while her eyes were closed, making me smile in turn. You could practically see hearts floating above her head as she started drawing lazy circles on my chest with a finger.

“Abby?”

“Yes?” she hummed, opening her eyes and adjusting her head so they’d meet mine.

“Sorry if I went too wild.”

“Pfft, hehe! Why are you apologising? It was great.”

“But… I did go a bit too far, didn’t I?”

“Hmm… maybe a bit, but I won’t complain,” she told me as she kissed my shoulder and lazily stretched her body, her voice coming out a bit squeaky as our skins made a ripping sound. She went back to the exact same position as before with a pleased and fully relaxed sigh. “I did enjoy it a lot. Still though, it’s quite unfair, isn’t it?”

“…What is?” I asked, already suspicious of something as her smiled gained an impish undertone.

“How you’re coughing your lungs off from running a couple of steps while I can run two hours straight, but in the bedroom, I’m always the one left breathless.”

“C-come on! You make me sound like… like a sex fiend or something!”

“Nah, you just can’t get enough of me, right?” she laughed while giving more kisses to my shoulder.

“…Yeah… I really missed your cute sounds and expressions, and the way you look at me and hold me, you know?” I told her, turning on my side slightly just so there was that bit extra contact between us and I could better see her, my thumb caressing the back of her hand on my chest. "That’s why, I… you know...”

“Hehe! Yeah… I know.”

We fell into a comfortable silence, the fan in my room, our breathings, and an occasional sigh that escaped us being the only sources of noise. Even though we were sweating profusely, none of us wanted to move.

“Maybe I should wait for you butt naked at the finish line next time we have running for PE evaluation,” Abby chuckled, breaking the silence.

“If you were to do that, I’d be running in a full sprint to cover you up, not to do naughty stuff.”

“Pfft, ah-haha! True, you would do that!”

Jokes aside, it’d be nice if I could get a bit more stamina outside of bedroom activities. I could join Abby in her morning runs, but that’d mean less time in bed, sleeping. In usual Violet fashion, I wanted change without changing anything. Maybe when the weather cooled off and Abby switched to running in the afternoon I could make it work?

“Pfft, hehe!”

“Pfft, fufu! What?”

“Oh, just looking back into memories. Remember that night?”

“Which one? Sorry, but you’ll have to be a bit more specific as we had plenty of memorable nights already.”

“True. Then, the one we had our first time.”

Of course I remembered that. I even remembered exactly how many mosquito bites each of us got from sleeping outside that night.

“Remember how we kinda compared… you know, and I asked if you’d like for me to… make mine look more like yours?”

“Y-you’re bringing that up!?” Why!?”

She smiled softly.

“You mumbled something about not really doing anything to it. I felt like such an idiot for having even asked that,” she continued as she began stroking my hair. “You were so sweet about it too, Violet. You didn’t make me feel weird at all for having even asked.”

Why was she bringing that up right now? It felt like such a specific thing to talk about, and it also felt like it went beyond a desire to just tease me.

“You weren’t weird Abby,” I told her, gently grabbing her hand, now holding both of them. “You just made me feel a bit embarrassed. It wasn’t something I really had thought about before.”

“I know. From the very beginning, it’s been like that. Even if I get weird, you do your best to make me feel comfortable and understand my point of view. That’s why… I’m very thankful for that, but also… sorry.”

“Sorry? About what?”

“My request,” Abby said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Despite knowing you’d be understanding, I’ve been dragging my feet. You see, I… I want… I want us to share our underwear!”

My brain’s first reaction was to crash. The second thing my brain did was rebooting. The third reaction was repeating WHY? over and over again. Luckily, the rest of me took some more time to reboot, so I managed not to blurt that out when Abby was looking at me, knowing what was going on in my head right now as I tried to wrap it around what she had just told me.

Share our underwear? Why?

Was it a… sex thing? Was it just so she’d feel closer to me? We were already sharing a lot of clothes, so why that too?

“Violet, I swear to you, it’s not a sex thing. I mean, it is, but only by like, ten-percent, if even that. I just want something more private, more… more intimate.”

Ok, now I understood what she meant. I mean, not really. I understood her words and reasoning, but not her logic.

Look, what I’m trying to communicate is, like a math problem, I can understand that an equation is equal to the result and how to get there using a formula, but I couldn’t understand that formula behind it.

“So… you want to wear my panties… while I wear yours… right?” I said slowly, doing my best to understand her reasoning.

“Yes, but… not just any panties…” she said, now looking away for the first time in this conversation. “I want… I want used ones… Slightly used ones.”

My brain was again shouting why but I told it to shut up as trying to understand Abby with logic was completely pointless at times, and this one was looking like one such moment.

“Ok, erm… let me think about it for a minute, ok?”

“Y-yeah! Sure, take your time!”

“…”

She was fidgeting and avoiding eye contact. That wouldn’t do at all.

I grabbed her chin gently and aligned her face with mine before giving her a very soft and long kiss.

“Just to be clear, I’m not mad or disgusted or disappointed about you, or any other such nonsense, ok? I’m just a bit surprised and confused, understood?”

She nodded, the bottom half of her face covered with her hands. She was doing her best to hold a giggling fit as she hadn’t expected me kissing her after her request. That was a good thing, and it made me able to think more clearly as I excused myself to use the bathroom, needing some alone time.

“Abby wants us to share our used panties? Why?” I asked my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Of course, I had no answer. Not one Abby hadn’t provided already.

She wanted something more intimate than just a shirt or whatever… ok. But why underwear?

I was still trying to go about it using logic, knowing full well it was likely pointless. In these moments, a more direct or practical approach was better… which drew my eyes to the washing machine.

It was a thoughtless act that I did, getting on my knees, looking for something of hers and then take off the ones I was wearing to put those on. And I sat on the toilet seat, my mind blank.

“…Oh my god, I get it now!” I gasped when my brain was done doing yet another reboot.

It was so much more… closer. It was something a lot more private that Abby had worn, so in a way, I felt more of her with me as I sat there. It was a stronger feeling of connection than what I was getting from wearing the top I had on which also belonged to her. I totally got her logic now.

“Are we ok in the head?” I chuckled, realising the absurdity of what I was about to agree to.

Still, it didn’t matter. It was something the two of us had talked about and agreed to, so there was nothing anyone else could think or say that’d make me walk back on my decision.

I went back to our bedroom, Abby getting up to make room for me to get to my side of the bed. I took that chance to hand her the underwear I had worn since that morning.

“Ok Abby. Let’s do it,” I told her as I held my offering to her.

“You mean… we can do it?” she asked, her lips slowly forming a smile.

“Yeah, I… I get it now.”

Before taking my underwear from my hand, she hugged and kissed me, saying that she loved me to bits and that I was the best girlfriend anyone could have. I was still lost in playing those words over and over again in my head when I realised she was now offering me hers.

“Oh, erm, I’m already wearing them.”

She tilted her head and furrowed her brow.

“You are?” she asked. “Which ones?”

“H-here,” I told her, lowering the front of her shorts that I was wearing too to show her the strawberry-themed underwear I had on.

She smiled at me again before realisation coloured her face.

“Babe?” she called, dragging the word and sounding a bit frightened by what the answer to her following question could be. “Where did you get those?”

“From the, erm, the washing machine. Why do you—?”

“Take them off right now!” she demanded, grabbing my shorts and pulling them down along with the underwear.

“Wha—? Why!?”

“Those are dirty!” she told me, making me even more confused. “Like, dirty, dirty! Those have been marinating in this week’s dirty clothes for days!”

Now, I too had come to the horrifying realisation of my own actions. In my despair for understanding Abby, I had put on something nothing short of biohazardous against a very sensitive spot. I immediately rushed to the bathroom to wash up and cool down my head as the embarrassment was close to a lethal dose. And after I cleaned up and splashed my face with cold—or as cold as my warmed-up pipes could produce—water, I told myself that I needed to think more and act less impulsively around the matters pertaining Abby. Sure, it got me to understand her better, like just now, but it also occasionally backfired, again, like just now.

When I came back, Abby sat on the bed with only my underwear on, bobbing side to side as she quietly hummed to herself, as happy as Abby could be.

“Here,” she hummed, handing me the root cause of all this.

“…Thanks,” I told her, not only referring to what she was giving me, but also to not make jokes about my mistake.

Once I was done redressing, I sat by her and Abby immediately hugged and rested her head on my arm.

“Just to be clear again, the ones I want are slightly used, and by that I mean with just a few hours of having been worn,” she told me in a whiny voice. “Or for example, the ones from the morning that we wore to bed after a shower in the previous night. Also, if one of us feels like the ones she’s wearing are too dirty or sweaty, then, whoever she might be, can refuse the exchange. Deal?”

“Sure… fine by me.”

“…Really Violet, thank you… for everything.”

“…Me too Abby,” I told her, moving the arm she was hugging around her waist. “Me too.”

A feeling of peace fell over us again as we enjoyed our singular unity until Abby giggled and said something that sounded even more outrageous to me for us to share.

“Not with how big your chest is,” I told her.

Abby’s playful smile turned into a pout that wasn’t merely playful. “Gee! Why are you still being so persistent in saying that my chest is big? It’s average! Average!”

And part of me knew that, but she was also correct pointing out how I seemed to be stuck in that idea of her chest being big. Even though I’ve had had plenty of visual and tactile experience to know better.

“Maybe because when we met I was flat as a board and you were the first girl I really had a good look at? I was quite insecure then, so maybe that’s why part of my mind is stuck on it? Like, to me at the time… I don’t know, maybe I thought of your chest as being at least an E-cup.”

“Gee! If I’m an E-cup, then what’s my sister’s size?” she puffed, her pout deflating into an understanding expression.

“How should I know?” I huffed back. “It’s not like I look at other girls that aren’t you!”

“True, you really don’t look at other girls at all. At anyone that isn’t me, really. But funnily enough, we might have the same amount of boo— of breasts, yours are just a bit more… spread out.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Were I to grow a bit and my ribcage became the same size as yours, we’d likely share the same cup size then, assuming my bust stayed the same. My cup is a just a size above yours, but your number is one above mine, so me having that growth spur under those conditions could even things out.”

That sounded… believable. It could be nice if we could also share bras, not only for connection reasons, but also to save some money in the future.

Still…

“…Well, I for one hope you stay this tiny,” I grumbled, moving so I could hug her from behind while we sat on the bed.

“Hehe! Because I’m the perfect size to cuddle with?”

“Precisely,” I told her, giving Abby a nice squeeze with my arms as I crossed my legs around her waist and over her lap.

We dove into yet another moment of peaceful silence until it was time for Abby to go. Truth be told, she likely should have gone home a bit sooner, but spending some alone time with me had too much of a pulling force. It was over an hour since she had arrived that she finally left.

Funnily enough, after I bid her farewell with a last kiss and hug that got her feet off the floor, Abby being a giggling mess as she walked outside, I wasn’t feeling as lonely as before. Looking through my shorts with an X-ray vision that I didn’t have, I knew part of the reason why. That idea of hers about sharing underwear might have been an even better one than she might have thought.

“Meow!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!”

And I had his majesty to keep me busy too, this time Oliver calling me to pat him dry so he could come inside and have his treat that Abby had left for him.

My life might be a bit unusual thanks to the people in it, but it never is a boring day with them around.