Alda had been silent the whole train ride thus far, leaving me alone with only racing thoughts and the discordant symphony of clanging and crashing of metal on metal to keep them company. Every so often, the flicker of passing streetlights would illuminate her face, and all I read was quiet contempt, as she stared off into a place I wasn't quite sure existed. 

And finally, she snapped the silence like a twig.

'Hey, Tal...' she started, her voice dropped to a whisper; as if it had lost all its power from its sudden neglect. 

'Yes, Al?' I asked softly, glancing her way as the effervescent light revealed an expression from Alda I don't think I'd ever once seen before. Shame.

'Do I-' she gulped, rubbing her arm as she hesitated. Does she what? Make me genuinely concerned for her mental wellbeing? Look pretty? Drive my thoughts into disarray with every sentence that comes out of her stupid mouth?

'Do I make you uncomfortable?' she winced, her tone suddenly cold, as she stiffened in her seat and pulled her gaze to the window; watching the blanket of dewdrops cascading down the cold glass as the city's sleepless lights glimmered into view.

'Uh, you know I'm not good with feelings-' I stammered, staring down at my lap, my thoughts completely and utterly jumbled in response to her sudden introspection. 'Let's see... let's see... what makes me "uncomfortable"...' I pondered to myself, as Alda continued staring off with an expression on her face I couldn't quite gauge.

'Uncomfortable, the general sense of unease generated through the feeling that something is wrong,' I muttered to myself in quiet contemplation, temporarily letting Alda in on my own private thoughts. What made me feel that way? 'I guess I feel that kind of "pit" in the center of my chest when... you don't talk for a period greater than ten minutes... when I can't tell what you're thinking... when...' I answered factually, listing off the truth in hopes that it would put her mind at ease.

'... I saw you with that purple-haired gir-' I caught myself, hoping she hadn't heard my embarrassing admission. Why did all these things make me feel uncomfortable? Would Alda know?

'Well, what do you feel when I try to weird you out?' Alda asked softly when she turned to me, a sad smile painting her face. She scooched closer to me on her hands and knees, her eyes clearly trying to gauge my reaction.

'Are you trying to weird me out right now?' I asked her, as those very feelings seemed to flare up in my chest again. Alda promptly shook her head. 'You remember that time you got electrocuted by that fence when we were exploring Mr. Jones' farm? Then you grabbed my hand and transferred it to me?' I explained, pulling the closest possible feeling to this rush of unidentified neurotransmitters from the depths of my memory in attempt to somehow categorize it.

'So, I do just hurt you...' she moped, gazing out to the city again, her eyes glazing over. Ugh. How was she not getting it? Wasn't she the one who kept going back to that fence over and over again because it made her feel "fuzzy," while I watched on in terror.

'Yeah- I mean- no! Uh, it's um... it's hard to explain- I-' I sputtered, trying to somehow control my torrent of word vomit. Ugh. I was so unprepared for this. 

'Um, how do I explain this to the girl that skipped two semesters of English in grade eight...' I started with halfhearted mockery, but I noticed the corner of Alda's sad smile twitch. 'So, it's like, as if I pricked myself and fell into a deep coma... and then, suddenly, one day this "prince" wakes me up with a... uh... "true love's kiss," metaphorically,' I described to her, latching onto the only comparison for my feelings I could come up with.

'You mean a horribly romanticized tale of nonconsensual affection?' Alda said with a sneer, and I could only chuckle nervously in response. 'Um, no... it's like, as if I woke up and now I'm terrified of giving in to my curiosity and getting pricked again... y'know,' I continued, blowing my bangs out of my eyes as I turned to Alda. Her eyes were gleaming, just as they had when we completed our dumb couplet together; her sad smile still remained, but now it only reflected a look of solidarity. 

'So... what you're saying is we should ki-' Alda started, her tone playful and her gaze turning vaguely sultry. As a kneejerk reaction, I grabbed her lips and glared into her eyes. 

'You want me to knock you into a coma?' I bluffed, my soft stare mirroring hers. Suddenly, her lips burned hot against my hand, and she quickly pulled away. Honestly, I was surprised she didn't bite me.

After that, we sat in comfortable silence, waiting for the train to reach its destination. 

This time, I broke the silence. 

'Hey, Al... do you think we could ever be friends again?' I murmured, sinking into myself as I glanced up at her. Truthfully, I think I was asking myself this question just as much as I was her.

'Again? Friends? No way,' Alda responded coldly, adopting a brooding look again as she watched the passing landscape. Yeah, I should've been expecting that. I wouldn't want to be friends with me, either.

Suddenly, my deflated form was practically rocketed against my seat as the train came to its final stop. Leaning up to me, Al looked as if she were going to knock me out of my trance by declaring our arrival. She was probably going to yell in my ear. Fine, go ahead.

I braced myself for the shout that never came. Instead, I felt a warm, moist sensation press against my cheek before it was swiftly torn away. So gentle, yet so, so powerful. I closed my eyes, savoring the burning tingle of the act, while I felt something rise in my chest.

Did- did she just. What.

'Ahahaha! New Al!' the gremlin chattered before flinging herself out of the train cart, like a skydiver out of a plane. Yeah, I wasn't so sure about that.

● ● ●

'Ok, well that's just not fair,' I pouted, as Alda and I exited the train together and strolled into the food district. Alda returned my whine with an impish snicker. The overwhelming scent of spices, butter and various meats filled my nostrils as we passed through the markets.

'Does new Talyn like shawarma?' Alda asked casually, hungrily eyeing the food stalls.

'Obviously, and I really hope you don't remember what got me into that,' I groaned, and Alda's eyes immediately lit up with mischief. Please, no.

'It was that day we went to the movies to watch The Avengers~' she started, almost losing her breath to a short laughing fit. 'And you- you liked- the sound "shawarma" made, so you begged our parents to go buy us some after!' she expelled, holding her ribs as if she were in actual pain.

'It's really not that funny, you know,' I mumbled, crossing my arms as I walked closer to her.

'I know, I know- it's just- I was remembering little you repeating "shawarma" over and over again on the way home! Our moms were so tired after the fiftieth repetition! You were so fucking cute and obnoxious-' Alda explained through tears, and I could feel my face heating up... and I wasn't so sure it was from sheer embarrassment. 

'Still am~' I chimed in, nudging her deep in the ribs. Her tears of laughter only added fuel to the fire that was my own growing smile.

'Can't- can't breath-' Alda whimpered, clutching her stomach; clearly winded by the combination of my jab and her own infectious laughter. 

I patted her back, hard, and she coughed before almost choking on her own spit. 'I- I- was trying to say- got that right~' she sputtered, and I gently rubbed her back before making sure no one was actively observing us. A coughing fit in a crowded place filled with food wasn't exactly ideal.

Ugh. My whole body felt so warm, but in, like, a good way? There was probably some German word for it.

'Alda, you know French, what's the German word for full-body warmth that feels good?' I questioned her, the implication of asking such a question completely lost on me in the moment. Was I trying to tell her she made me feel good, or was I just messing with her?

'I don't know about German, but I do believe ze French call that an orgasme~'  she teased with mock-intellectuality. I shot her a leer, before she held her limp hand to her head and pretended to fall back on me, resting her head against my chest. 'Or perhaps, that sensation is what they call amour, mi amor~ stimulated by ze oxytocine~' she said dreamily, lying theatrically lax. Huh? Amor? Like the Elvis song?

'"Mi amor," that's Spanish, isn't it? Wait, you're Hispanic. What's it mean?' I asked, pulling a long strand of black hair out of my mouth. I swear I had heard the term before. It almost sounded... romantic?

'Uh- it's a slur- don't look it up,' she stammered defensively, and for once I was sure she was lying. I know she knew all of the Spanish slurs there were, and she had used each on me. This one was not familiar. I decided to just shrug it off.

'You know it's hard to walk like this, right?' I said to my parasite, walking on the spot while Alda rested against my chest. 

'Aww, just a little longer~' she grumbled, like a little kid who'd fallen asleep on a long car ride. 'How can that be comfortable, there's nothing there!' I complained, poking the side of her head. It was then that my stomach growled again, as if reclaiming its space from Alda and reminding us of the mission at hand. Alda stood her ground, but probably only because she felt bad about the whole opossum thing.