"Hey Berryanna, I'm really sorry about what happened last night. I should have told you that I was leaving with the boys. Plus, I didn't know that you had history with the Lord of War."
Straw said the words out loud, testing them, letting them hang in the air of her room as if Berryanna herself might suddenly appear and judge them. The room did not respond. Of course it did not. Only the soft rustle of the curtains answered her, sunlight slipping in through the tall windows and landing across the carpet like it had nothing better to do.
"No, no, that does not sound okay. I don't want her asking how I knew, and then I'll have to tell her about eavesdropping on her and Vinegario. So what should I say?" Straw said as she paced around the room, her steps uneven, sometimes fast, sometimes dragging. Her hands moved as much as her feet did, fingers tugging at her sleeves, brushing through her hair, clenching and unclenching like they were just as restless as she was.
She had no idea that Berryanna hated the family. No one had told her anything. No warning, no quiet hint, no look that said be careful. Okay maybe Apple did give her hint but she did not approach him.
"Princess, it is wrongful of me to break your rules, which I should not have, because I had no idea of the enmity between you and who must not be named, dude. So… my sincerity, my lady."
Straw stopped pacing and cleared her throat, straightening her back. She lowered her voice, puffed out her chest, and tried to sound serious, authoritative, like some knight from a badly dubbed drama. She even lifted her chin, lifting an imaginary hand as if swearing an oath.
She made a few dramatic gestures, slicing the air with her hand, nodding solemnly to herself like this was a performance worthy of applause.
"I don't think that looked proper," she muttered.
The act collapsed instantly. Straw flopped backward onto the bed, the mattress bouncing under her weight. She kicked her legs up, heels thudding against the sheets as she stared at the ceiling, her face twisted in frustration.
She let out a low grunt, the sound halfway between annoyance and childish sulking.
"I can't believe we didn't have sex last night because of one stupid feast. And I haven't eaten yet."
Her stomach chose that moment to remind her of its existence, tightening unpleasantly. She rolled onto her side, hugging a pillow and glaring at nothing in particular. Her fingers drummed against the fabric as she continued muttering under her breath, complaints blending into one another until even she stopped listening to herself.
The knock on the door cut through her thoughts. Straw froze.
For a second, she did not breathe. Her eyes snapped toward the door as if it might disappear if she stared hard enough. Another knock followed, firm but not impatient.
She scrambled upright, smoothing her dress with hurried hands. She pushed her hair back into place, cleared her throat, and stood, forcing her feet to carry her toward the door like nothing was wrong.
"Coming," she said politely, her voice steady in a way she did not feel.
She opened the door. Berryanna stood there, composed as ever, holding a tray balanced neatly in her hands. Steam curled faintly from the dishes, the smell of food immediately filling the space between them.
'Since when does she need to knock before entering my room?'
The thought hit Straw without permission. She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped.
I don't want to hear your voice anymore.
The memory landed heavy in her chest. The words replayed themselves, sharp and clear. Straw closed her mouth again. Whatever she had been about to say retreated, curling up somewhere deep and quiet.
She stepped aside without a word.
She did not look at Berryanna. She did not offer a greeting. She turned and walked back toward the bed, each step controlled, deliberate, like she was afraid that if she moved too fast she might shatter into something embarrassing.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands resting in her lap. Her eyes drifted around the room, lingering on the window, the chair, the wall, anywhere that was not Berryanna. She focused on small details, the way the light caught on the table, the faint crease in the sheets, anything to distract herself from the fact that Berryanna was there.
Berryanna stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
She paused for half a heartbeat, her gaze settling on Straw's back. Something shifted in her expression, subtle enough that no one else would notice it, but it was there. She did not comment on Straw's silence. She did not call her name.
She moved closer and gently placed the tray beside Straw on the bed. The plates made a soft sound as they touched the fabric. Berryanna then sat down beside her, crossing her legs with practiced ease.
"It's past 12, and you haven't eaten breakfast, which is unusual for you. So this is your breakfast in bed, though I'd say lunch," Berryanna said.
She spoke evenly, carefully, like each word had been measured before being released.
Straw stared straight ahead. Her hands curled slightly, nails pressing into her palms. She wanted to talk. She wanted to explain everything at once. The words pressed against her throat, but she held them back, afraid of saying the wrong thing again.
Silence stretched between them. It was not loud, but it was heavy.
"If it's because I said you should shut up, is that why…?" Berryanna started.
"Yes. You said you don't want to hear my voice anymore, since I've become a nuisance to you," Straw said immediately.
The words burst out of her before she could stop them. She turned toward Berryanna, her eyes sharp, wounded, honest.
"I never said you were a nuisance," Berryanna replied.
"You didn't say it, but it felt like it," Straw said.
Her voice softened at the end. She hesitated, then shifted fully to face Berryanna, their knees almost touching now. She took a breath, deep and shaky, and then another, as if bracing herself.
"…Look, Berry, I don't understand the things that go on in this place. I'm new to this environment. I only read books or watch movies about all this. I was only here for the love story, not the political conflict, the killing, the bloody environment. But as long as love is involved, I am ready to go through all those things if I am guaranteed that I get to have the love that I want."
Her hands moved as she spoke, fingers tightening together, then separating, then gripping the edge of the bed. Her voice wavered, but she did not stop.
She swallowed.
"I really do love you, really. And you said I had all my life to get to know you, but the only thing I know about you is that you love sex and watching me all day. I want to know more about you. Your favorite color, your best snack, do you like pets, maybe dogs or
cats... what your dirtiest secret is, your obsession, the girl who made you realize you like girls. I want to know all of you. I don't want to be just your wife, but someone you can rely on."
The words kept coming. Straw barely noticed how fast she was talking, how her chest rose and fell, how her eyes searched Berryanna's face as if looking for something to hold onto.
She finished without realizing she had started. The room felt smaller after that, like the air had shifted. Berryanna said nothing.
She simply looked at Straw. Really looked at her. Her gaze lingered, unreadable, her lips pressed together in thought. Then, slowly, something softened. The tension in her shoulders eased. A smile began to form, quiet and unexpected.
"My favorite color is green. I love the color green," Berryanna said. Straw stopped.
"What?"