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A fleeting yawn escapes from an exhausted blue octoling's lips as they slowly drag their feet across the cherry oak flooring towards their compadre's bedroom. They tried to stifle that groggy yawn, but it was to no avail. Their entire being is giving out. The long work hours from conducting the anarchy news show to the added sweltering heat of humid summer drain them into a steamy pile of bags of goo. There is no point in showering every hour if they sweat buckets after cleaning themselves. Today. They'll live without doing so, said shower.
Shiver brings their knuckles up against the door, rapping to a recognizable pattern before they swing it open. They scan the room and see no signs of recent activities or a giant lump on the bed of their inkling gal.
The wonder news anchor hums in question that their wandering eyes begin to search outside of the inkling's bedroom, from the hallway to the kitchen to the joint hallway to Big Man's residency and the shared living room with the balcony. Their sight shifts downward, viewing the visible squid lying against the floor, listening to lo-fi music from her propped-up phone. She looks blissfully content with closed eyes and slow, meditative breathing while wearing summer-appropriate clothing—just a pair of boy shorts and nothing else.
Shiver walks over to the peaceful squid after they close the door and nudges her bare back with a foot. "Hey, are you awake?"
After a couple of nudging, they heard a grunt from below. "May I join you in whatever you're doing?"
"Yea-yea. Sure, Shiv. As long as you don't cuddle with me—."
Too late. The cuddly cuddler cuddles by jet-packing their exasperated inkling.
"হায়রে বাবারে! Shiver!" Frye whines, unable to shove their body away from hers because of the exhaustive and unbearable seasonal heat. The only energy she can deliver is some heated scolding to the octopus. "Can ya NOT live a day without snuggling up against me?!"
"Life is hard." They give her a small squeeze, happily sighing. "But my sweet girl is always so soft."
"Leave. Go and hug one of ya many shark plushies!"
"Not the same. I want warmth."
"Shiver. You want warmth?! IN THE MIDDLE OF A HEATWAVE?!" Frye feels some sticky sweaty residue on their limbs against her skin. She shriveled in utter disgust. "Shivy, sweatie. You've been sweating!"
"You too." They swipe away a droplet of sweat from her exposed shoulder with a thumb before licking it off clean. "Yum."
Frye groans in disbelief. Usually, her other half would be equally disgusted, showing visceral reactions and dissuaded from being this close to her, especially during this unforgivable summer. "Ya built different."
Shiver chuckles against one of her long ears, which flutters in response. They reward it with a kiss. "No thanks to you."
"Oh? My doing?" She hooks their closest foot with hers. Their other half has given up and submitted to their shenaniganery. "I didn't fiddle around with the tapestry of your DNA, Shiv. Out of the vast surrounding ocean, ya cannot paint me as your story's villain. You're born like this."
"And yet you love me like this." They nuzzle into the crook of her neck, planting another kiss. "I can't wait to enter my villainous era. The concept suits me better than you, Frye."
"Debatable, but I'll support ya."
Shiver maniacally laughs to the degree that she could tell they did some behind-the-scenes vocal training on perfecting the low resignation pitches from their diaphragms.
Frye weakly laughs along, but she can feel their growing insufferable hot breaths against her nape. She grazes against their occupied hand and removes it away from her belly. Instead, she cups their hand between hers, feeling the calluses and red-tipped prickly nails as she tries to ground herself. This touchstone does feel familiarly comforting but in this current situation… She is melting away like a popsicle, trying its best to withstand the immeasurable torment under the glaring sun and someone's annoying warm touches.
"Sooo hot…"
"Thanks, Kerria. I know I am."
The sensation of their lips curled up against her jaw. She grits her moan from escaping. "I wasn't complimenting you, you idiot."
They giggle, firmly planting themselves against her entire being, closing the gap between two torsos. Frye silently screams, mentally ignoring their soaked tank top that is now glued on her bare back!
"Clearly, you don't know the definition of hot!" She voices her frustration as she pancakes against the cooling wooden floorboards, dissipating her body heat.
"I do." Shiver climbs on her back, further cementing their body against hers and tangling their legs around hers. As if this is amateur wrestling, earning a point for the pin-down. "If you search the word, online dictionaries embed my face next to its definitions."
The pinned-down inkling rolls her eyes, groaning to the floor. "Can't believe I'm falling for the oldest trick in the book."
"Admit it. That was pretty good."
"Your setup and delivery are improving. I give ya that." Frye glances over her shoulder, smirking. "But did ya hear me bellowing in laughter from Challenger Deep?"
The improving theatrical stand-up comedian playfully slaps their critic's back. "I ask for cool feedback. Not be heckle—."
"OH! Oooooo, this lil' sharky pup… NOW you want something cool. How about YOU get the FUCK off from ME?! I ain't no soapbox!" She lifts her butt and vigorously shakes Shiver to get them off her, buuuuuut it doesn't last too long. The heat. Oh, the fucking heat. Frye returns to her original position in defeat.
"Thanks for the gentle breeze, kitten." They snicker. "It definitely helped me cool down."
No verbal bites or remarks were responding to them for a while. The anticipated octoling observes their beloved two long ears slowly drooping downward as the two endpoints touch the floor. Frye's face stays completely hidden, so they cannot read her facial expression. This action alone was the sign that their inkling had enough.
Shiver admittingly agrees that brutal high-temperature seasonal weather is creeping up on them, too. In apology, they hesitantly bring a hand to one of her ears, afraid she would backhand them. Despite adding more heat, her ear welcomes their fingers. The gentle strokes and the soft rubs ignite her vocal muscles to purr. This response eases them.
They whisper against her nape. "Did you eat breakfast yet?"
“...yah." Her answer sounds muffled, quiet. "The panta bhat I prepared last night. It’s done fermenting. Sooo, I had that with fried mackerel. Felt soothing."
Their stomach loudly growls for neglecting their needs. Shiver embarrassedly blushes once they hear Frye's giggles.
"Go ahead and eat, Shiv. I picked out the best chili peppers for you to munch on, and ya just need to reheat the mackerels."
They kiss her shoulder. "Thank you."
"Ah, careful not to eat too much rice, tho."
"Frye, you made a breakfast dish equivalent to sake. Of course, I'm taking the chances to get myself inebriated. I will NOT eat responsibly."
Frye delightfully laughs, earning her a forehead kiss before she suddenly feels the near absence of their warmth. After enduring and embracing the extreme added heat from her other half, she received the other end of the spectrum. Frye violently shudders. Her body nearly shuts down as if she got the wind knocked out of her by a sucker punch to the gut.
Shiver turns around after they feel a tug on the hem of their tank top, facing their other half, who is currently sitting upright and silently crying as she stares back at them. The tear tracks slowly formed into rivers, downward streams from her doleful downturn doe-eyes as she tightened her grip on their top.
"Shiver." She calls for them in her failing, steady voice. "Wait, don't leave just yet."
"Frye, I haven't eaten breakfast." They say as they keep their voice from faltering, too. "And besides, I've tortured you enough. You need space—."
The vulnerable and most feeble sound escapes from her lips, she pleads. " Please ."
They give in.
Shiver wipes away her tears and leads her back to their original positions, spooning her once again. They notice her phone stops playing lo-fi a long time ago.
"Hmm, Kerria?" They grab her idle phone and scroll through her Splatify playlists, asking. "Do you want to listen to another lo-fi?"
Frye hums, joining in on what they are viewing on her phone. Although her tears slowed down and her body slowly overheated again, she could no longer have the mental capacity to scroll and search for the right music to listen to, even with their aid. "...dunno."
Shiver put the phone down back to the floor. They're also at their wits' end, unable to form a solution in the heavy humidity atmosphere until one lights up.
They smirk at her. "Do you wish for rain—?"
"YES!" She gasps, spreading her body like a blooming flower bud before she brings an open palm to their face. "Shiv. Five days. Five days without rain. Like Precipitation, where are you at, girl?! How ya feelin'?! Need someone to talk to?!"
They chuckle as they continue with laying their suggestion. "We can call for it. Do you know any rain poems we could sing?"
Frye ponders, drumming her blue-tipped fingers against reddish wooden floorboards. She isn't as fond of poetry as her counterpart is, but she appreciates the arrays of emotions it can convey in different forms. Shiver's go-to is singing while hers is dancing, but… Not today. Not in this heat. She briefly pauses her tala drumming before changing the tempo to largo. After a series of slow, timely passing beats, she sings a poem.
Shiver carefully listens to the first verse, backing up with a chime or two, attempting to understand the tone of her voice as their left-hand rhythmic patting against Frye's thigh. Conventional verbal comprehension is optional. Sure, it is nice to know the words to a song like the icing on a cake, but the main structural component is just as delicious as without it. When their other half repeats the chorus, they jump in with their raga melodic backing vocals, lifting her singing to the forefront as they create improvisational sounds in different octaves.
Two trained artists create worldly music on a whim, mixing and matching a variety of pitches and singing verses over the rhythmic fingers and hand thumping, calling for a rain deity to listen to their desires.
Frye smiles after her mind sees the calmness of an undisruptive pond. With fluttering ears and closing her eyes, she lulls to sleep.
Shiver decrescendo their singing and wait until they hear her softly snoring. They slowly pry themselves off her and plant a fleeting forehead kiss.
The blue octoling returns to the shared living room with a full belly and lays beside their sleeping inkling. They grasp why their other half initially slept here instead of returning to her bedroom after breakfast. Nothing beats sleeping on the cooling floor after a hearty meal. It's a better temperature regulator than most modern, often expensive mattresses.
And the way the fermented rice hits them, lulling them to drifting their eyes shut, soothing their mind to its relaxing state. It is thanks to the rice's alcoholic content. They can't help but smile as well with her in this unbearable, sweltering summer heat.
Their hearts gradually dip into a low pace as the pitter-patter sounds come from outside, falling fast asleep to the world's music:
Para para.
Para.
Para.
Pa.
Ra.
Pa.
Zah.
Zah???
Shiver lifts their head from their slumber and faces the direction of the sound to the outside of the balcony. It's raining?! Oh, cods, it's fucking raining.
"Frye. Frye!" They shake crescendo their inkling as she slowly wakes up.
"Shiver." She names them with a slight annoyance to her voice, peering over her shoulder. "If you start again with your tomfoolery, I swear you'll find my foot shoved right into your fucking mou—!"
"It's raining." They calmly cut her off, and… That's all it takes for their other half scrambling on the floor, trying to stand up and run towards the balcony.
Frye slides the screen door open and twirly dances out onto the balcony. She held an arm out, hoping to catch some rainwater while she awed at the beautifully bluish-grey sky.
"It rains." She sings. "It rains sweetly. বৃষ্টি অনেক মিষ্টি।"
A beloved melodic voice chimes in behind her, raga singing to the poem the two duets sang earlier. She turns and clasps her hands with theirs, happily singing and dancing together until she stops, wishing for a higher octane.
Shiver pauses their singing, checking up on her. "Something the matter, Kerria?"
Frye smirks, reassuring them. "Shiv, let's go to the rooftop."
"On this rooftop?" They ask, following behind her back inside the flat.
"Hell yea', baybee!" She wears her tank top, fixing the cupping of her chest. "We need the space to shower our kisses to the greatest and best, one and only Milf on earth, Mother Nature. It deserves the same love it did to us, no?"
"Yes." Shiver closes the screen door behind them, nodding to her proposition. "But, I'm still tipsy, though."
"Lap up some of the rainwater, then." Frye giggles.
"I'm not drinking acid water."
"Then ya not based."
They stare at her blankly. "What…?"
"Don't worry about it." She kisses their lips and wraps her hand with theirs, giving a good solid squeeze. "Come on and join me, Shivy. I want to share this gift with you. It desires to listen to the sounds of your voice and feet again with mine. We gotta party hard together."
Shiver squeezes back, letting Frye lead them towards the apartment building's rooftop like their first encounter with her.
Again, they agree with her.
"Yes, it's never fun singing and dancing alone."