Why Not?

It’s been so long now that I can’t remember when the annoyance faded into an uncomfortable heat in my cheeks and limbs. I can’t remember when my heart started beating so heavily against the paws on my chest that I was afraid he could feel it himself. I can’t remember when the accidental embraces stopped becoming accidental. But they did.

I’ve been paranoid my entire life, and I spent months fearing that they knew, that somehow my feelings had become so abundant and obvious that even the witless inhabitants of the Woods had figured them out. Every time their eyes caught mine I swear I could see my own repulsion staring back. How could you, Rabbit? How could you, of all people, be so stupid?

And it was a thousand times worse when he was around, his oblivious laughter adding insult to injury. I feared looking at him, speaking to him, touching him, but the abstinence of all these things only added suspicion to the situation. He says he’s worried about you, Rabbit. He says he wants to help you, Rabbit. He says he misses you, Rabbit. But how could I walk up to him again and pretend everything was back to normal when it wasn’t? How could I speak to him with all eyes on us and expect the burning in my cheeks to go unnoticed? I’ve always been a coward – but how could I suffocate my inevitable fear when all my life I’d suffocated it in his chest? It didn’t seem so strange then, it didn’t seem repulsive. It was an instinct then, it was a reaction to fright that involved something tangible to grasp. When it was over, I let him go, and he never questioned my motives. But what if he were to start? What if he were to ask me why I clung so desperately to his shoulders when I’d spent half my life trying to make his hell? What would I say? I’m in love with you, Tigger. I’m so scared of this feeling. Please, don’t let me go.

I abandoned my rabbit hole three days ago, so sick of the constant barrage of worried visitors it brought me to furious tears. I never intended to leave my home forever; I left the rooms tidy and the cupboards securely locked. I just needed some time alone to think... about me, about him, about us... about what the others would say if they were to find out, if I were to tell them. Would they laugh at me, sneer at me, scream at me? Would they walk away in disgust and forget such a fool ever existed in their memories? I suppose, in so many ways, I’d have everything I wanted: no more bothersome midnight solicitors, no more imbecilic pleas for guidance, no more devastated harvests... but no more Tigger. And what would they ever say if I were to tell them that I waited every day by an unlocked door in the half-hope that he’d forget his promise to stay away from my garden and from me? That I secretly missed the feeling of my heart hammering against my rib cage in elated response to his body weight on mine?

But Tigger stumbled upon my minute forest sanctuary just moments ago... somehow, I knew he would. I knew that hiding from him would prove impossible, especially in a place where I can’t close my windows and cower between my blankets. We’re about 10 yards apart, and his eyes go wide when he realizes that it’s me.

“Long Ears!” he cries and starts towards me, and I contemplate getting up off the stump I’m curled up on, but I know he’s faster than me and I’ll never outrun him. I smile softly and I feel my nose start to sting. I don’t want to cry in front of him. “What – what are you doing out here?!”

“I was sleeping,” I respond when he’s close enough to hear my weak voice. I’m rather out of the habit of talking. He looks like he’s about to cry, and I don’t know whether to feel satisfied or guilty. I don’t have long to think about it; in a second, he’s down on his knees and hunched over me in an awkward sort of embrace. I feel that embarrassing heat beginning in my stomach. “T-Tigger... don’t....”

“Everyone’s been so worried,” he murmurs into my fur, and I wish he would have more sense than to do that. “Why’d you leave us? I know something’s been bothering you, but—”

“You’re what’s bothering me!” I snap coldly and jerk out of his arms, rolling over so that my back’s to him. He’s still and silent for a long time; I unnecessarily add, “Leave me alone.”

He gets up and backs away, and for a moment I think he’s really going to leave me like this, but he protests firmly, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He means it. I lie with my back to him for maybe half an hour before the fact that I can never escape him finally sinks in. Breaking the perfect silence of the woods around us, I start to sob uncontrollably. I hear him take a tentative step forward, but he stops. Keep going, you idiot, I think viciously. Show me that there’s something inside of you capable of loving me back. But he doesn’t move another inch. I know that he’s only afraid of provoking me further, and even though I’m furious I can’t blame him. How could anyone who lacks the ability to read my mind ever hope to make me happy?

It’s a battle of wills for another ten minutes. The entire left side of my face is matted with freezing tears and snot by the time I crack. I never thought myself capable of losing to someone like him, but I guess I’ve been losing all along. “I’m... cold...” I stammer quietly. I slowly sit up on the stump and place my feet on the frost covered ground, but I don’t turn to face the reason there are miniature icicles all down my whiskers. “I’m cold... Tigger....”

The moment I say his name he scrambles clumsily towards me, collapsing on his knees in front of me, his eyes so full of worry it breaks my heart. If he’s disgusted by how pathetic and weak I am, it doesn’t show on his face. He just yanks off the scarf around his neck and drapes it over my shoulders, tying it carefully beneath my chin. I start sobbing again. “No, Tigger, I....” I slide off the stump and onto my knees like him in one fluid motion, then throw my arms shamelessly around his neck. I’m so afraid of what he must think, but I can’t control myself. I claw at him so desperately it must be painful and bury my face between his shoulders. “I....” And he must feel it... the warmth that floods my entire body and my erratic heartbeat... we’re so close. I swear I think I can curl up inside of him. When he wraps his arms around my waist my shoulders tremble in fear and I press myself even closer against his chest. He hasn’t embraced me like this in so long. I want him to suffocate me.

“Come home, Rabbit.”

I separate myself from him only enough to look into his face. There are tears in his eyes now, too, but I think he’s still the most beautiful creature in existence. And suddenly, with reckless abandon I didn’t think myself capable of, I’m kissing him; I’ve never kissed anyone before, much less like this, and I’m judging my movements on something I saw Christopher Robin do once, years ago... but then Tigger’s kissing me back and I don’t care if I’m doing it wrong. Tigger’s kissing me and I don’t care about anything else in the world. When we break apart we’re completely out of breath.

“...alright.”