Handsome, Gorgeous

I have one chance, thought Nora. They took a brief look at themselves in the mirror. It was all they could to make sure nothing was out of place, but the pinprick electric nerves in their chest wouldn’t let them spend any more time observing themselves. If their eyes lingered a second more, they were certain they’d lose their nerve entirely.

They strode from the changing room, to the store floor beyond, where they had split with Mila. Oh, Nora hoped Mila was back by now. They’d be a twitching mess to see Mila if they had wait. Fortunately, they quickly sighted Mila’s long blonde hair rising over the clothing displays around them.

Or unfortunately. As Nora registered the sight of Mila, fully changed, every singular thought was eradicated from their mind.

She wore an elegant black dress shirt and black pants combination, with a crimson vest over top. A matching handkerchief was placed in the vest pocket, along with golden vest chain that culminated in a circular, floral seal. The chain was clipped, one end to the vest pocket and the end with the seal to the buttons in the center of the vest. Her tie matched, black with red, flowery designs. Silken black gloves and black wingtip shoes completed the look. Mila’s muscles stretched and tensed under the fabric just so, flooding Nora’s mind with entirely unhelpful thoughts.

“Mila, you’re gorgeous,” said Nora in an awed whisper.

“Nora!” Mila’s entire body jolted, as if taken by surprise. She whirled around, a light pink blush dusting her face. “Do—ah, eheh—do you really think so?”

Nora swallowed. Now or never.

They stepped forward in a single stride, trying to fill the gaping, frozen chasm in their stomach with a confidence they didn’t quite believe in yet, and gripped Mila’s hands with their own. This next part came more naturally, they could feel their expression burst with affection as smiled up at her, a smile which only widened as Mila’s own eyes creased lovingly.

Mila moved in time with Nora, steps locking into sync with an instinctive ese. Nora briefly worried whether they would even be physically capable of dipping the much taller Mila, but their girlfriend gracefully followed, twirling at the barest indication of Nora’s wrist, sinking as Nora turned, until Nora looked down at them, their other hand supporting Mila’s back.

“You are everything,” said Nora. “Everything beautiful and right with the universe. Mi Mila, mi amor.”

#

And that was as much as Mila could take. She felt her cheeks come on fire and her legs tremble, just enough that more of her weight than she intended sunk into Nora’s grasp. Nora squeezed harder, putting both of their hands into holding up Mila, but it was for naught, and the both of them crumpled into a flustered pile on the tiled linoleum floor of the store.

Mila cursed her absence of mind, grateful at least that the pose Nora had gone for placed her under the smaller partner, so that at least she didn’t fall on top of poor Nora.

Heavens, but Nora was a sight. Time faded to standstill, as they lay on Mila’s chest. They wore a dark navy suit. White buttons went down the center of the vest, to match with Nora’s white tie and white brogue shoes and white gloves. The suit jacket, navy on one side and white on the underside, rested on Nora’s shoulders like a fancier evolution of the sweater jacket they usually wore clipped at their neck. The jacket had billowed behind Nora during the twirl and dip, a cape to accent Nora’s charming dexterity. To fill Mila’s eyes with stars that lingered even now. Somehow, despite the fall, despite not being attached by anything other than simple gravity, the jacket remained perfectly balanced on Nora’s shoulders.

Then the moment passed, and time resumed as Nora began to twitch. The movement set alight Mila’s frazzled nerves. She sat up, careful to set Nora down next to her, and covered her furiously blushing face with her hands.

“Who taught you to do that?” She said, her words muffled from her lips being pressed into her palms. “That was so smooth!”

“Nah.” She heard Nora chuckle. The smaller body pressed into her side. “I couldn’t even hold it. But the thought came to me as I was changing, and I knew I had to try.”

Mila raised her gaze, just above her fingertips. She couldn’t help but smile through her embarrassment. “You look like a prince.”

“No way.”

The reply from Nora came quickly—a simple, off-handed statement of fact. Nora stood up, adjusting their jacket, then offered Mila a hand. Mila took their hand. As she did, she noticed Nora’s gaze drift to one of the mirrors.

“Nora?” asked Mila.

Nora started, as if they hadn’t expected Mila to speak. They gave a self-deprecatory smirk. “Really, it’s nothing.”

Now they met her eyes, searching. Mila smiled in return, no words. She knew through painful experience that to rush to offer comfort would only unsettle Nora.

The smirk wavered and Nora spoke again, “Just that, I know I look like a little girl pretending to be a little boy.”

Mila blinked. If nothing else, the gendered terms were a dead giveaway that something triggered Nora. Nora, who hated the concept so much they once claimed to have shot and buried their gender out behind the corner store.

“What? Who told you that?” She intended the question as generic rhetorical rejection of Nora’s statement, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, the answer was obvious.

Both spoke at once, Mila intoning “Galván” and Nora saying “My father” with a half-suppressed flinch. Their voices were flat with the dread and annoyance that still lingered in their memories.

Mila breathed in deeply. She tried to fill her expression with as much encouragement and affection as she could.

“You know you can’t take anything that piece of shit said to you seriously, mihije.” She added the neutral form of the pet name and was glad to see Nora’s mouth turn into a small, genuine smile.

But then Nora’s fingers twitched, the way their hand always did when they were anxious. This need to grab, gesture, to do, do, do—it had driven Nora as long as Mila had known them. In a lot of ways, she loved that. Once upon a time, Nora’s relentless forward movement had pushed Mila across the line into transitioning.

But it could also implode, and Mila had hated that. She remembered how Nora refused to address their own gender thoughts, focusing instead on constant planning and progression to newer goals. Propelled along that path in no small part by Galván.