The Reality of Love

Hot breath winnowed through Cress's neck hairs, tickling her awake. She groaned in protest, burying her face into her pillow and grumbled about never drinking again as her brain throbbed behind her eyes. The previous night's events were a blur in her memory: half of them as vivid as they were when they happened, half of them closer to a long forgotten dream.

"I remember Illia carrying me home and showering. Then what?"

She scrunched her face trying to remember, absently tracing her finger along the steely forearm draped over her and outlining the long fingers at the end.

"Illia?! Did we… No, I'm still in my pajamas. But what was I thinking? 'Will you lay with me?' Who says that in real life? It's fine. Everything is fine. Or it will be after a glass of water and ibuprofen."

With a hungover sigh, Cress rolled over to get up but stopped when she saw Illia's face. All of her eyes were closed, something that Cress hadn't expected since normal spiders didn't have eyelids. She had assumed they stayed open naturally and Illia had been forcing them closed for her sake.

"You're the delectable one," Cress whispered to herself, stroking Illia's cheek with her fingers. The woman's face was smooth and supple…

Cress's blood turned cold and her stomach twisted. Had she been avoiding reality on purpose? Or had the night's escapades exacerbated Illia's health? Either way, Cress had to accept the truth, no matter how hard it was to swallow.

"I don't want to lose her. It's not fair that I have to! Maybe I can go with her. Everyone would understand, wouldn't they? I don't care if I have to sacrifice everything. As long as I can stay beside her."

Strategically avoiding her eyes, Cress planted a soft kiss on her lover's forehead. It had only been a few minutes since she'd woken up and the world already felt unbearable. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

But that had always been her life. It had never been fair and all she could do was do the best she could. Repeating the mantra in her head, she wiggled out from beneath Illia's arm and out of the bed, doing her utmost to leave Illia undisturbed. She wanted to feel proud that she succeeded, like Illia was a hardened duke who'd never let his guard down until he fell asleep by accident beside the protagonist. She would give anything for that to be true. Instead, her lover was steps away from death's door with no way home.

Crestfallen at her escape, Cress crept towards the door only to stumble on her dirty clothes from the night before. There was no way they weren't ruined by the blood, but she rummaged through them anyway until she found her Christmas gift. She couldn't ascertain the damage in the darkness, but she vaguely remembered it being as drenched as she had been. Hopefully soaking it in cold water and cleaning it with some peroxide would get the blood stains out.

A flutter of wings followed her as she snuck from her room and she bit her tongue to stop herself from yelling at William. She felt bad for neglecting all night, so she patiently waited for him to follow her before closing her door, turning the knob as she did.

"Good morning, William," Cress whispered. She laid her hand on the floor for him to hop on and carried him to the bathroom with her. He climbed up her arm as she filled the sink with cold water, only to flutter off when she submerged her blood stained blouse.

"Cheep!"

"What? Give me a minute and I'll get you a treat," she said, turning to check on the bird. "Wait, don't—"

For the first time since they'd started living together, Illia's door was cracked. That, of course, was an invitation to William to prance inside.

"Shit! Why of all the places… It's fine. Illia and I are closer now and I doubt she'd be upset if I said I went in to get William. Even if she thinks I'm being nosy, I'll just apologize later."

Convincing herself with every step she took, Cress approached the cracked door and grabbed the knob. She wasn't doing anything wrong, but a nagging voice in the back of her head argued that going in was a bad idea; it was a betrayal of Illia's trust and it was something she couldn't take back after she did it.

"William!" she whispered as loudly as she dared.

A faint tweet followed by a panicked shriek came from beyond the silk curtain Illia maintained as a second barrier, triggering Cress's maternal instincts. Without another thought, she threw open the door and burst through the curtain.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. In the worst case, she had imagined a giant web hanging from the ceiling. She never imagined the room being covered from floor to ceiling in wiry white strands, nor the giant cocoon looking nest. The scene was a carbon copy of her childhood nightmares, worsened by the dozens of football-sized web sacs shaking at William's shrills around the shadowed entrance of the nest.

Primal panic Cress had all but forgotten swallowed her and started devouring her from the inside out. Like a virus, the mind-numbing dread spread through her, starting at her knotted stomach before moving to her hyperventilating chest and then every hair on her body. Her legs crumbled beneath her and she hugged herself, eyes staring blankly at the ground, paralyzed in place. Oxygen became a luxury and she let out a choked whisper of a scream that was dwarfed by William's frantic screeches harmonized by forlorn meows and guttural coos.

"William. I need to— I can't— Oh, God, I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong! I slept next to- I can't. I can't think. What? William. I need to save him or he'll end up like—"

Pushing through her terror and forcing her dead legs to move, Cress stumbled across the spinning room. Hyperventilation gave way to dyspnea, and her chest heaved, begging for air, as she stumbled face first at the entrance of the dark tunnel William was trapped on.

Stiff web stuck to her hair and arms like impossibly sticky strings, restricting her every movement. The more she fought, the more entangled she became and her skin stretched, threatening to peel off with every thrash and kick. She could feel chunks of hair on her scalp warning her stop, but she couldn't. The demon of the lair could wake up at any minute and then what could she do? End up like the men from the night before? Like the animals wrapped up like frozen burritos?

Then, from her peripheral vision, the hallucination that had haunted her since childhood swelled like the tide. Thousands of spiders, skittering just beyond her sight, closing in to liquify her insides. No. It wasn't the same. The first tickle against her cheek assured her it wasn't. She was living her nightmare and the dozens, no, hundreds of prickly legs crawling over her body were real.

"NO!" she shrieked, thrashing through the skin rending, hair ripping agony. "NO! MOM, ANYONE, PLEASE!"

The room shook as the door of the room kicked open and Cress's voice went hoarse screaming at the sight of the demon that appeared. Its blurry silhouette loomed over her, its eight midnight green eyes shifting back and forth and its jagged, gnashing teeth bared.

"STAY AWAY! DON'T TOUCH ME!"

The creature's outstretched hand froze inches from Cress's face and the feeling of thousands of hairy legs dissipated, though it didn't bring Cress any comfort.

"LET ME GO!" her raspy voice screamed between her whimpering. "Please…"

Snot clogged her nose and throat and she coughed up what little she had in her stomach down her shirt. Her body was spent and her struggling had been reduced to pathetic tugs of the arms.

"Cress, it's me, Illia. Calm—"

"No! Don't come near me!" Cress squeezed her eyes shut as if the monster would disappear if she couldn't see it.

Thin, rock hard fingers brushed Cress's cheek, making her flinch and turn her face away even as a lock of hair teetered on tearing away. The hand reached past her, digging through the sticky strands glued to Cress's head until the tension on her scalp and face disappeared.

"It's alright, Little Sling," Illia whispered as soothingly as she could. Cress could feel the woman's magic activating within her, but it did little to quiet the thunderous clamor of her heart. "Just stay still so I can release you."

Cress didn't answer. The lump in her throat and her clogged sinuses wouldn't let her. Slick sweat coated her skin, leaving her clothes drenched and making it impossible to tell if her pants were soaked in sweat or something else. In the recesses of her mind, she knew she was safe. She knew that the smooth, rigid skin brushing against her was the same skin she'd let hold her as she slept. It was her Illia. She'd come to save her just like she always did. She hated that she wasn't sure if it mattered anymore.

When she was finally extricated from her bindings, Cress collapsed forward. Illia tried to catch her, but Cress pushed her away. She couldn't face the eight ghastly, gorgeous green eyes pleading to help her. She doubted she could even face two of them.

"H-Help William," Cress managed to stutter out. Her throat was tight, barely letting air let alone words out.

"What do I do? I-I can't think. Everything feels like it's too much. Thinking. Breathing. Talking. Existing. I don't want to anymore. I can't do this. I can't, I can't, I can't! What can't… What do I do?"

"Go on, little guardian." A small chirp and flapping wings left the room leaving Cress slumped like a beaten beggar on the floor with Illia knelt beside her. "We should follow."

Illia reached for Cress's shoulder, but Cress jerked away, nearly toppling over in the process. Even as she struggled to her feet, she rejected Illia's help, refusing to meet the wounded woman's gaze. Shame, fear, anger, disappointment. The feelings festered within Cress, reminding her that all universal truths aren't necessarily true.

Love can't conquer all.