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nitetime-moon · 5 months ago

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I actually came up with an idea for my creative writing class this earlier this semester, and it happens to perfectly fit with it being Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week. Someone asked to see it, so here we go.

Heart Choker

Words: 5233

Other Info: Mentions of sex (nothing explicit), arophobia, aroallophobia, romance forced on an aro person

The first time I saw them was while I was walking along a street in town. I don't even remember why I was there or where I was going. Everything seemed unimportant next to this person, their large, coiled hair glistening in the setting sun as they played a beautiful rendition of a popular love song on their keyboard. It wasn't so much the playing itself that captivated me as it was their smile as their fingers danced on the keyboard. It was just so… joyful.

I thought that they would've had a hat laid out, or something to allow people to donate money in appreciation for their skills, but nothing lay in front or to the side of them. It seemed as if they were just doing this for the joy of playing itself. Nevertheless, I was determined to show my appreciation when they finished the song.

Before I could even approach, however, a man came up and stopped them, complaining about the freezing cold and how late it was getting. The piano player reluctantly agreed and allowed him to help pack up their things and the keyboard. Due to the slow traffic on the sidewalk, they were both gone by the time I had reached where they were.

He must have been a friend of theirs that came to help take them home. At least, I was hoping that he was just a friend.

The next time I saw them was actually the very next day, as they were working at the counter of a coffee shop, just serving some little old lady her coffee. I had never been to this particular coffee shop, due to it being a bit out of the way of my route to my college campus, but my friends swore that it had the best coffee, so I went to prove to them that my usual coffee shop made a better brew by directly comparing the two.

I came up to the counter and ordered an espresso, which they dutifully made right away. I couldn't help but watch them as they did. That day they didn't wear their afro loose, but braided it into a crown that circled their head, with a little bass clef hair clip resting on the braid. Their eyes were a deep brown, and their lips were full. Their smile, though still present, didn't hold the same joy that it had when I saw them the previous day. This one seemed smaller, almost painted on. A customer service smile, if you will. Not that I blamed them. There was no reason for a barista to smile so fully early in the morning.

I looked up from their lips to find them looking me over as well, having noticed my staring. Their gaze settled on my shoulders, and they raised their eyebrows as their smile grew a little wider, more real. Before I could ask them about it, they gave me my coffee and turned to the next customer.

So I went back to the street where I had found them the previous evening. They were there that time too, the man that was there before nowhere in sight. This time they were playing some jaunty little tune that I had never heard before. When I got closer, I heard them whispering under their breath, as if trying to remember the words to a song.

"Shoulder pads, shoulder pads… what even rhymes with shoulder pads…" They laughed a little to themself, continuing to play the tune as they tried to find the words.

I felt my shoulders stiffen. So that's what they were laughing about earlier. I had always worn clothes with shoulder pads in them, ever since I liked how they made my Catholic school uniforms look impressive. The square shape it lent to my shoulders gave me a sense of confidence. But there was always someone who felt the need to comment on my sense of style. It got tiring, especially coming from someone that I thought I found cute.

I marched right over and stood in front of their piano, glaring down at them. Their eyes widened in shock, then recognition flashed through their eyes as they looked at my shoulders once again.

"Miss Shoulder Pads!"

I crossed my arms across my chest. "It's considered pretty impolite to make fun of someone's clothing," I said, making sure my disdain colored my voice. Pretty smile or no, I wasn't going to let someone just sing songs making fun of me out on the street.

"What? No, no, I'm sorry, you got me all wrong!" They gave me a sheepish smile, picking at their braid crown. "I wasn't trying to make fun of you. I think the shoulder pads are cute."

I raised my eyebrow in disbelief, which prompted them to stand up and hold out a hand towards me.

"Let's start over. I'm Arrow, nice to meet you!"

They smiled brightly, which lowered my defenses a bit. Begrudgingly, I held out my hand and shook theirs. "Valerie. You said you think the shoulder pads are… cute?" I saw them look down at our joined hands to make an awed expression at my leather gloves, but for the moment I ignored it.

"Yes! Um, yes." They pulled their eyes up to reach mine again and smiled, looking more embarrassed this time. "I noticed you looking me over this morning, and I thought you looked really pretty, so, ah, I…"

I had taken my hand back by that point, and used it to cover a laugh of my own. "Oh, sorry. That's all it was." Still smiling from the light, sparkly feeling in my chest, I pulled out my phone. "Arrow, could I get your number?"

And that was that. I was initially attracted to their smile, but talking to them felt even more invigorating. We spent so much time joking and flirting over text that I thought there would be no problem if I took them to a deli for lunch and to formally ask them out on a date.

"Oh, um, I don't, I don't really do all of that lovey-dovey stuff." Arrow smiled sheepishly at me, picking at a sandwich in their hands.

"What do you mean by that?" Lovey-dovey stuff? Had I just been imagining that we were flirting with each other then?

"I mean, I'm not really into going on romantic dates or holding hands or pet names... You know, romantic stuff." They trailed off, looking uncertain.

"Oh," I said. I felt my heart begin to sink. I was so sure that we were both into each other that the rejection was hitting me harder than I might have guessed otherwise. "I'm sorry, I guess that I thought you were flirting with me like I was with you."

"Oh, I was! Just... not like that."

I glanced at them quizzically. But then... Oh. Oh. "You mean...?" I vaguely motioned with my hands before giving up. We were both adults, there was no need for this beating around the bush. "You mean you'd like to sleep with me."

Arrow blushed. "Basically. If that's alright with you...?" Their smile widened again, which I liked because it went back to lighting up their face. "I really do think you're pretty, Val."

"Oh, good, I thought you weren't attracted to me at all." I smiled as well, to put them at ease. "So, do you usually pick up friends with benefits by serenading them on the street, or am I special?" I joked, trying to further feel out the situation.

"Oh, no, no, I... I haven't actually been with anyone before...?" They phrased it like a question, but their eyes were clearly searching mine to gauge my reaction.

So that's how it was. When they said they didn't like "romantic stuff", it was probably because they were shy and inexperienced. Though, usually it was the other way around, with people being shy about the sex and not the romance, but it was fine. I could work with it.

"That's fine." I shrugged, still smiling, trying to balance nonchalance with eagerness to not scare them off. "Listen, for now let's just keep talking and meeting up with each other. We can take this at any pace you're comfortable with."

So that's what we did. I will say, I didn't expect to enjoy the talking stage with Arrow as much as I did. I learned that they were working two part time jobs to support their community college tuition, which did complicate the "meeting up" bit, but we worked around it. I was honestly surprised that we had a community college near my own four-year one, but it showed how little I actually walked around town. Arrow changed that. They liked to just take their old keyboard out and play for people at various places around the town. Sometimes it was known music, sometimes it was little improvisational ditties they made up. More and more I started to be the subject of these improv pieces, which always sent a jolt of excitement through my chest, distracting me from the homework I took with me to finish while they played.

It was quite cold out there, though. One of the days that I sat with them as they played, it was so cold that I inadvertently shivered, despite myself.

"Ah, it's colder than usual out here, isn't it?" Despite saying this, Arrow didn't seem to be any less inclined to keep playing. But they surprised me by asking, "Would you like to go somewhere inside to warm up?"

It seemed to me at this point I would have to be the one to initiate anything past this talking stage. So I decided to take a chance. "Would you like to come back to my apartment? I live by myself off campus."

They paused, searching my face then looking away. But it wasn't long before they faced me again and smiled. "Sure. Let me just pack up my keyboard."

We dragged ourselves and that keyboard to my apartment, which thankfully wasn't too far away. I briefly wondered how they would view the décor, before opening the door and letting them in.

While I put the keyboard down in a corner, Arrow stood at the entrance, scanning the apartment. Delight and amusement was clear in their eyes.

My apartment was spic and span, as I kept everything I owned in its place. In the living room, the jet black couch was arranged to fall in the middle of the window, with a table right in front of it, and the TV in front of that. To both sides of the couch sat two black chairs, of the same make and fabric as the couch. That and the red pillows on all three pieces of furniture were bought as a set. A rectangular crimson rug lag beneath the table, the only soft part of the hardwood flooring.

Behind the couch, on the window, were lace-patterned decals, the only bit of non-modernist decoration I allowed in the living room. They crossed the window in vertical strips, boasting black lacy hearts and flowers. However, that day they were obscured by the heavy, deep red curtains that hung over the window.

"It's very Queen of Hearts," Arrow remarked, moving to open the curtains and let in the fading sunlight.

"Yeah? I never thought of it like that." It was probably the red and black color scheme. Those were my two favorite colors, after all.

"Yeah, the couch and chairs especially. When did you have the time, or money, to get all of this matching furniture?"

"My parents," I said simply.

"Rich kid."

We laughed, and I took the opportunity to step closer to them. They looked up at me with a twinkle in their eye. "Still, it looks too neat. Don’t you actually live here?"

"Why, what were you expecting it to look like?"

"Oh, I don't know. Like a college student's apartment. Dishes stacked in the sink, clothes on the floor…" They trailed off, noticing that I had been steadily approaching them. But they didn't back away.

"Well, maybe you can help me with that last one," I said, before pulling them close and pressing their lips to mine.

They didn't move at first, maybe lost on how they were supposed to move, so I took the lead and showed them what to do. Their lips were as soft as they had looked from afar, and my skin tingled as my heart started to race. By the way they clutched at me, I could tell they were getting into it too.

I pulled back a little, slightly winded, to nod at my bedroom door. "So, will you help my bedroom look more lived-in?"

They didn't try to hide their eagerness as they pulled me by my jacket's shoulder pads into the room.

After that I guess I expected us to become lovers, or partners, or whatever they wanted to call it. They appeared to enjoy themself, and ended up staying over that night. But when I asked them again what we were, I didn't get the answer I was hoping for.

We could agree on a committed and exclusive relationship. But all of the romantic gestures I had been wanting to do were still a no-go. I still only called them Arrow, nothing else, we didn't go anywhere special that I wouldn't just take my friends, and I couldn't hold them or their hand in public. They did consent to me calling them my partner, though, "I like the term bedfellows myself," they once told me, jokingly. Perhaps it was less joking than I thought.

"So, what do you not like about romance?" I asked one day, as they played on their keyboard in my apartment. It was way too cold outside, I had argued, so we spent that day indoors.

"I just don't get it. I don't feel the need to do anything 'romantic' or whatever people think is romantic to them. And it makes me feel, I dunno, a little anxious." They could still talk to me as they ran their fingers up and down the keyboard, but the bright chords did not fit the slowly forming pit in my stomach.

"Hm." That day I had on my black lace gloves that I wore less and less often to avoid tearing them, and I was tracing the lace with my fingers as I thought. Despite everything, it still seemed like we weren't close enough for them to let down those barriers around me. If anything more were to happen, I would have to be the one to act first.

They noticed my silence and stopped playing, coming out from behind their keyboard to sit shoulder to shoulder with me on the couch. "Don't worry, Val. I like this arrangement of ours, and I think it's working out for us."

"If you say so."

"I'm being serious!" They leaned in to bump my shoulder with theirs. "We don't have to go on fancy dates to be important to each other, right?"

I frowned, briefly pausing my glove inspection to pull a string that had gotten caught in their hair. That day they wore their afro loose, per my request. Despite how pretty it looked, it was equally as apt to pick up random bits of fabric from around my apartment this way.

As I pulled the string away, they seemed to notice the gloves and took hold of my hand, holding it up to their face to trace the lace pattern on it too. A look of fascination settled on their features. "Did you always wear gloves like this?"

"I have another pair in my room, if you would like to see it."

They met my eyes and grinned.

Having made up my mind to take the lead, I slowly started to introduce more romantic aspects into the relationship that I had wanted to do since I first laid eyes on Arrow. First, it was walking with them, hand in hand. While we walked back to my apartment one day, I reached out my hand and intertwined it with theirs. I felt them stiffen, and my hand was dragged back as they paused. Looking back at them, I saw Arrow look at our joined hands, then up at me. Their bright, easy smile had been replaced by a closed mouth and wide eyes. I thought about dropping their hand, but decided that this needed to be done at some point.

"Um, Val?" they started.

"It's cold out. It'll be easier to keep warm like this."

"It's fine, you don't need to hold my hand. I… people are looking at us."

I shrugged. "They just see two partners walking down the street. Which is what we are." I smiled at them reassuringly. "No need to be nervous. I'm right here with you."

They opened their mouth, but then closed it and did not say anything else. Convinced that they had accepted the situation, I led them back to the apartment, hand-in-hand. For the first few minutes, holding their hand felt like holding a block of wood, but then I said something that I knew would set them giggling, and they relaxed back into conversation with me, our joined hands held just slightly away from them.

I knew then that my theory was correct. They might not shy away from more physical intimacy, but when it involved emotional intimacy like this, Arrow was scared to initiate it. It didn't matter, because I wasn't afraid, and if I took the lead like I did with them in bed, they were sure to follow.

So I started holding their hand every time we walked together. They always jumped a little when I first touched their hand, and would look as if they were about to comment on it, but they never said anything after that first time. I felt their hand twitch in mine whenever I held it, but I always just rubbed my thumb over it reassuringly.

After testing the waters, I became more bold. Wrapping an arm casually around Arrow signaled to others that they were my partner, and I felt my chest warm at being so close to them, running my fingers through their hair. They never returned my loving glances, but I chalked it up to their shyness. It was alright, as I knew they would get used to it soon enough.

They did object, however, when I started buying them little gifts. First it was a pair of converse shoes to replace their worn out ones. Those they accepted happily, as they had been considering buying a new pair themself. The maxi skirts went over less well, but they did eventually accept them, since it matched their taste. The earrings, however, elicited another frown. Maybe it was the writing on the hearts, or the fact that I had bought myself ones to match. Either way, I never saw them wear those earrings.

The heart choker made them visibly recoil. It wasn't ugly at all, a simple dark crimson velvet band, with a silver heart charm hanging in the middle. I wanted to get a gold or ruby charm, but I knew that it would be pushing Arrow to the limit. Even with my precautions to get the most simple choker I could bear to give them, they were still shaking their head when I presented it to them.

"I don't know, Val. It's very… couple-y."

"It'll look cute on you," I promised, "and I didn’t buy myself a matching one this time." I held out the choker. "At least try it on."

After a little more back and forth, they turned around and held up their afro, presenting their neck to me. I placed the choker around it, secured it, and hugged their shoulders, turning them back around to face me. It really did suit them. Red was certainly their color, no matter how much they refused to wear it.

"See? You look breathtaking."

"It feels… stifling." They placed a finger under the choker and pulled at it. I caught their hand and brought it towards me, kissing their palm.

"It always feels awkward when you first start wearing them. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

They said nothing, mouth a thin line across their face.

After a while Arrow came to me, telling me that the guy who had picked them up when I first saw them wanted to meet me. They had assured me before that their relationship with him wasn't intimate at all, but I had been wanting to meet him anyway, to judge for myself. So we invited him to dinner at a buffet.

He was quite tall, towering over the both of us, and I could tell that he was aware of that fact and using it to his advantage. For my part, I had dressed to impress, wearing slacks and a trench coat over my button-up shirt that had sleeves short enough to meet my gloves at the elbow.

"I'm Alan," he said as he extended his hand across the table. "Nice to meet you."

"Valerie, and likewise." After shaking his hand, I extended my other arm to wrap around Arrow's shoulders. They didn't jump in surprise as they had done before, but they also refused to look at me.

Alan eyed my arm, which gave me no small amount of satisfaction. Clearly he could see that we were dating, an idea that I had slowly been getting Arrow used to.

"So, you and Arrow, huh? I'm surprised," he said, learning back and crossing his arms across his chest. "I thought they would go for someone a little less pushy."

"Pushy?"

"Alan, don't be rude," Arrow said as they slowly dislodged my arm from their shoulders as subtly as they could. "Val isn't pushy, she's just confident."

"Confident enough to pull you, someone who is quite shy for a person so willing to play their piano out on the street for strangers."

"What–! I'm not shy!"

I raised my eyebrow and they pouted, but their lips betrayed them and they broke out into a smile as they laughed. It made my heart lift to see that smile, as it felt like I had been seeing it less and less.

"Confident, or trying to be intimidating?" Alan said, bringing the conversation back around.

"Intimidating?" I asked. I didn't know what gave this guy the audacity to be interrogating me, but I wasn't going to back down.

"It's probably the hair cut," Arrow offered. "Or the fact that you dress in all black and have square shoulders due to the shoulder pads." They grinned again.

"Hey, I don't wear all black." I pointed at the scarf that I had placed with my coat when I took it off. "See? Bright red, like I use for all of my accents."

"Yeah, just like the Queen of Hearts! See, I told you, Alan! Her house looks exactly like she dresses."

"You know, somehow I'm not surprised."

"Hmph, if you hated it so much you could've told me." I tried not to show it in front of Alan, but I felt a little stung by the comments.

"No, I'm not trying to say that at all!" Arrow casually flicked one of my earrings. "The queen look really suits you. I've been meaning to get you to wear a little circlet too, to really complete the look."

"And make her look even more ostentatious than she does wearing evening gloves to a buffet?" Alan asked.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I happen to love the gloves." Arrow then did something that surprised me, and reached over and held my hand in theirs voluntarily. Of course, it was because they were trying to study my gloves. "She's been wearing them more often since I told her I liked them."

"And I'm grateful for it," I said, squeezing their hand and leaning into them. They seemed to realize what they had done then, but I didn't let them pull their hand away as I smirked at Alan. "No need to be jealous of my style, you'd look nice if you wore lace gloves too."

Alan didn't respond. He just stared at Arrow, at our joined hands, searching their eyes for something that I hoped wasn't there. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Arrow shook their head.

"Well, in that case I suppose we should all get some food, since that's what we came for." He got up and thankfully left first, giving Arrow and I some room to talk privately.

Before I could suggest that we also get our food, Arrow turned to me, mouth in a straight line that I was coming to be all too familiar with. "Val," they said, "I... I'd appreciate it if you didn't hold my hand like that in front of Alan. It's making us both uncomfortable at this point."

"What's wrong with it?" I said, starting to feel annoyed. "He's your friend, right? He should already know that we're dating."

Their face flickered. "We're not–"

I interrupted them, squeezing their hand as I did. "Babe, Arrow, it's alright. I don't know why he's being so protective of you, but I can handle myself."

My words seemed to have the opposite effect than I intended. Instead of relaxing, Arrow's shoulders stiffened and the line on their face became thinner. They pulled their hand away from my grip and stood up, indicating that we should get food as well.

The rest of the meal passed by awkwardly. Every one of Alan's words came off as confrontational, and Arrow barely looked at me. At one point I had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and when I came back, I found them whispering conspiratorially together. They stopped as soon as they saw me, however, but that didn't mean that I just forgot what I had seen.

After finishing dinner, we said our goodbyes to Alan, and headed back to my apartment in silence. The air in the apartment felt oppressive when I stepped in, like the moments right before a storm broke. Arrow moved to open the curtains that I had closed earlier. They were half open, letting in a sliver of the setting sun, when I told them to stop.

"It's about to be fully dark anyway," I said. "Let's just turn on the lights."

Arrow stopped opening the curtains, but neither of us moved towards the lights. I think that we were both afraid to fully see the expression on the other's face.

"Valerie."

Not Val.

"I... I think we should end things between us."

My heart dropped. "What? Is this because of Alan? Did he say something?"

"No. Well, yes, he did say something, but it's not–"

"I knew he had it out for me." Grumbling, I walked over to the couch and sat down on it, patting the seat beside me. Arrow didn't sit down.

"It's not that. He saw that I was uncomfortable, we talked about it, and I realized that he was right."

"About what?"

"About how you make me feel."

"And that is?"

"...Uncomfortable."

I sighed and crossed my arms. "And how exactly am I doing that?" I was starting to grow more and more frustrated. "You know you can just tell me if I did something wrong, instead of just breaking up with me out of the blue like this."

"I am telling you," they said quietly. "I've been telling you. No, I've tried to tell you."

"Then tell me again."

"The hand-holding. The gifts, like the jewelry. Fancy dinner dates. The... earlier, when you called me a pet name. I didn't want that."

I sighed again. "Arrow, I know how you feel about emotional intimacy. But you're an adult. It's just what's expected in a relationship."

"I don't want it in any of my relationships. It... it makes my skin crawl."

I think that was the first time I had heard them speak so firmly. And it infuriated me. "What is with you today? You never act like this when we have sex. You're happy to let me do whatever I want then."

"That's different–"

"How so? You're so happy to see me and to talk to me and to touch me, until I hold your hand or try to cuddle with you or call you 'babe. It's just light physical contact, just words. How can that make your skin crawl, but sex doesn't?"

They didn't answer me, lapsing back into silence. I hated that silence.

"Arrow, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. But doing those things... It's because I love you. We're partners, aren't we? Don't you love me too?"

Silence still hung in the air.

"You can't have slept with me and not felt anything for me. You couldn't be that heartless." I was certain of this. They were just still scared, too scared to give their heart to me for whatever reason.

"I said before that I didn't feel that way. I thought you were okay with it." If I didn't know any better, I could've sworn that their voice contained a trace of sadness.

"Arrow. Come on. Please."

"I thought you had accepted it..."

"Fine," I said, standing up to approach them. "It's alright. I won't use any more pet names with you if you don't like them. We only have to hold hands when we're alone if that makes you feel better. But don't ask me to stop everything that shows you that I love you. Please, Arrow."

They stepped backwards away from me, and the setting sun caught on the heart charm on the choker resting on their neck. They had put it on that morning at my request, and the silver gleam caught my eye.

It caught their eye too. After gazing down at it for a moment, they reached their hands up and undid the choker. I tracked their movement as they placed it on the couch between us.

"Arrow?"

They didn't say anything to me. They slowly backed towards the door of my apartment as if I would stop them from leaving. I thought about stopping them from leaving. But I didn't.

"I'm sorry," they said, before slipping through the door and leaving me to stand in that dark living room by myself.

I wish I could say I cried and raged, but I didn't really. I had ice cream and commiserated with my friends like you usually do after a bad break up. They said all sorts of unkind things about Arrow, and we all stopped going to that coffee shop and avoided the streets they liked to play on. But it wasn't like that for long. Like all things, it healed with time, and life went on.

Sometimes I wonder about where I went wrong with Arrow. My current girlfriend assures me that I did nothing wrong, that Arrow just selfishly wanted sex from me and nothing else. Most times I am inclined to agree with her.

Sometimes, though, I remember what they said when I first tried to take them out on a date. No "lovey-dovey" stuff.

They were heartless, uncaring, and trampled all over my feelings. And I made their wide, brilliant smile turn into a line just by holding their hand.

#my writing #original piece #there are mentions of sex for those who are sex averse/repulsed #nothting explicit but just in case #im actually kinda nervous to post this #it's just the second draft and i haven't gotten feedback yet so I don't know if I can vouch for the quality #I've been going back and forth about it and at this point I equally like and dislike this story #i think it's safe to post this now that I've turned in the assignment though #if you somehow found me from the creative writing class: no you didn't #aromantic writing #aromantic #asaw #aromantic spectrum awareness week #aro

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