writing comp entry written by me and @_click_

i don’t want a lot for christmas…

me neither, dog thought to herself as she wandered around outside. she had heard the same holiday songs playing over and over again, but no amount of familiarity could erase the void that had buried itself inside of her heart. this was the first christmas she would be spending alone, without them - without bird.

winter had finally arrived. dog stared at the sun in the distance, watching as it began to set. she jumped as the sound of thunder flooded her ears and the sky grew darker. evening had begun far earlier due to the seasons changing.

dog’s phone lit up with a notification: you have arrived at your destination. she lifted her head to examine the old brick building that rested in front of her. pulling open the door, she took in her surroundings.

dog paid for a ticket, only for an hour; any longer and she felt that she might combust from the memories. slipping into the first exhibit, she reached into her pocket to store her spare change. as she let go of the coins, her fingers brushed against a piece of paper. it was a postcard - one of several.

— — — —

“smile!” bird called out, snaking their head around the corner. dog jumped in surprise as they laughed, pointing a finger at her. they pulled out their camera - a polaroid camera, different from their phone - and snapped a picture of dog’s surprised face.

dog whirled around, nearly knocking down the painting on the wall. “what on earth did you just do?”

“relax, you look great,” bird reassured her. “you always do, after all.”

dog rolled her eyes. “let’s take a better photo, then.”

moments later, the two photos were ejected from the camera. bird held up the second one, a canvas of the two of them surrounded by various paintings. “mark my words,” bird said, “this one is going to become a postcard one day, and you’ll have to mail it to me if we’re ever long distance. promise?”

smiling, dog took the photo, folding it and tucking it into her pocket. “promise.”

— — — —

bird didn’t have any real reason to be returning to the art museum - on christmas eve, of all days - except for the fact that this was where they had spent their last christmas, with dog.

they tugged at their jacket, wrapping it a little tighter around their abdomen, grateful to be inside after traversing through the snow to reach the museum itself. by now, the sun had already set, and bird sensed that they were most likely one of very few people in the museum at this time.

sure enough, when bird paid for their ticket, they were told that the museum would be closing in a little over an hour. time to make the most of this while i still can, they told themself.

they wandered the exhibits, searching for a piece to study. gold frames lined the walls, depicting scenes spanning from celebration to suffering to love. bird loved being amongst artifacts of the human experience throughout history - seeing what aspects of human life had remained ever present, unchanged by time or location. knowing that people have always loved each other and hurt each other made them feel less alone.

a frida kahlo painting caught their eye. frida had painted herself in a white and yellow headdress, and the image of a man was on her forehead. bird read the plaque and learned that the man was diego rivera, frida's husband. the two had had a strenuous relationship, diego being unfaithful. bird sat on a bench in front of the artwork and let their eyes trace frida's form as their thoughts wandered. a pang hit their chest as they started drawing parallels to their own love life. looking into frida's eyes, they could feel the pain she was likely in. bird was all too familiar with the pain of being hurt by a loved one.

“bird?” a familiar figure took a seat beside them. bird didn't look up, frozen staring at the painting. frida stared back down at them, seemingly asking, what now?

what, indeed.

dog didn't say anything else, nor did she make any move to leave. bird didn't know what to say. there was so much they wanted to tell dog - months of updates and grievances they would have loved to share with her. but all that came out in the moment was a quiet, “hey.”

— — — —

“do you think we’ll still be together a year from now?” dog’s voice was wavering, unsure and apprehensive of bird’s answer.

bird placed a hand on her arm. “are you kidding? obviously we will. unless,” they took a glance into dog’s eyes, “you’re trying to break up with me right now?”

dog laughed nervously. “no, of course not. that’s ridiculous.” she forced a smile. bird’s touch felt like a lit match on her arm, a ticking alarm clock that would eventually reach its end. when would they finally realize that they should move on and find someone who could truly - openly - be with them in the long run?

— — — —

“neat painting,” dog said hesitantly. bird's eyes remained fixed ahead, but they nodded stiffly.

dog looked down and ran her finger along the edge of the postcard in her pocket. she wanted so badly to bridge this gap.

she tried again. “have you still been sketching?”

silently, bird reached into their bag. they withdrew a sketchbook and handed it to dog, who took it gingerly. she recognized the dark red cover, littered with stickers bird had collected over the years. the hours she'd spent flipping through the pages had engrained every drawing into her mind. opening the book now revealed several month's worth of new sketches.

“these are gorgeous,” dog whispered as she gently traced pencil lines with her finger. she caressed a self portrait with the tenderness she used to share with bird themself. red and green strokes mingled in a mix of moss and blood in bird's exposed ribcage.

“thanks.” dog looked back up. bird's gaze had softened a bit, but they were clearly still wary. dog's heart sunk. she didn't know what she'd expected. of course bird was still upset. she'd hurt them, after all. their relationship would never be what it once was.

— — — —

dog took yet another swipe at the night table by her bed. she couldn’t control herself when bird was around. ordinarily, this would be a positive thing, allowing dog to make recklessly adventurous decisions. this time, though, her anger only caused bird to shift further away.

bird stared at her in horror, noticing the photograph from their first date on the ground, glass shattered around the image. “what the hell are you doing?” bird yelled. “dog, calm down.”

dog couldn’t think straight, couldn’t breathe. “why are you with me?” she whispered.

bird stared at the timid shadow in front of them. “i don’t know anymore.”

dog wrapped her arms around her waist. “then go.”gko

— — — —

“i should probably go,” bird said suddenly. dog looked at their watch and saw the museum was closing in a couple minutes. she gave the sketchbook back to bird, who took it and stood up. “it was nice to see you.” dog felt no warmth in their voice.

she watched bird's back as they left, their jacket tugging at another memory.

— — — —

bird pushed their way onto the crowded balcony, grinning. they held a wine glass in each hand, extending one to dog once they located her. dog accepted, sipping the bubbly liquid with pursed lips. she hated wine, but she loved bird, and wouldn't pass up an opportunity to drink with them.

“thanks for coming,” bird said. “i know parties aren't really your thing.”

“they're not, but you're here, so i am too,” dog said, squeezing bird's hand. bird returned the pressure, sending sparks up dog's arm.

a breeze hit dog's bare arms like a slap, and she shivered.

“here,” bird set their drink onto the railing and shrugged their jacket off, handing it to dog.

“aren't you cold?”

bird shook their head. “take it.”

dog put it on and leaned into bird, who wrapped their arms around her.

in the distance they heard a chant: “five, four, three, two, one…”

“happy new year, my love.” dog felt bird's lips on the back of their head.

“happy new year.”

— — — —

“bird, wait!” dog's feet sunk into the snow and slowed her down, but she ran as fast as she could.

bird stopped and turned, looking confused. dog caught up to them, grabbing their arms to steady herself.

“come over.”

“what?” bird looked taken aback.

“come over. spend christmas with me. please? we don't have to be exactly like we used to, but i miss you and want to try this again. will you give me another chance?”

dog could see bird's internal conflict, knew their mind was tug-of-warring. she pleaded silently. she didn't want to lose them again.

finally, after an excruciating minute, bird replied with a tentative smile.

“sure, i miss you too.”

Oh shoot- forgot emojis don’t work- sorry.

word war 10/5/25
124 words

And then they woke up again, except a few things had changed. Where once their hair had fallen in cascading waterfalls down their shoulders, there was nothing to shield the biting wind from their skin. They grabbed at the air around their head, trying to figure out where their hair had gone. They could see nothing in the darkness, but eventually their fingers met their scalp and they felt the shorn ends of their hair. They choked back a sob but didn't know quite how they felt—just that they felt it intensely. They stood up shakily and tried to see anything, their eyes straining against the pitch-black landscape. They knew they were outside. The wind told them that much. But where were they?