TWO DAYS AGO
*****
Craig stopped just in front of Olivia's door, pacing once along the pink fence out the front of her house in concern. The gift and letter sat in his hands, paper tag with the heart sticker standing upright from it's place atop the folded bundle of fabric.
'But I'm sure it'll be perfect on you.'
When he had pulled the dress out of the give box, he had immediately assumed that Olivia had mixed presents up and attached it to the wrong letter. But it had been no mistake. Reading the letter had turned his surprise to a thick, syrupy unease. He had posed in front of the mirror, holding the dress up in front of himself over and over. It wasn't made for a lithe female build, it... it was his size. The hips matched his width, allowing a little billow. The bust seemed like it would be exact. A dress made just for him.
He'd known that Olivia dabbled in making her own clothes from time to time. Of course, the Able Sisters were still the true seamstresses of Rapture. But her loom and sewing supplies weren't for show by any means. Once, she'd happily fashion her own skirts and blouses especially for public events. When the lighthouse had been unveiled, she had worn a wonderful white summer dress. He had a photo somewhere of the two of them and Lyman.
Craig shook his head. Of course, when Lyman moved away Craig locked himself away soon after. Like all the villagers, Olivia had come around, begging him to come out. One night, she'd sat outside and cried. The memory haunted him, but he couldn't change the past. In the end, he'd had to go away to protect himself. It had been necessary. And after two years, he'd come back. Olivia said she'd forgiven him. But what had Olivia herself gone through in that same amount of time? The other villagers weren't forthcoming with answers, and Craig didn't feel right asking others about her private life in any case. It felt like gossiping, something Olivia reviled. He was her friend, even if he hadn't done the best by her. She deserved his respect.
But looking down at the bundle in his hands, he wondered if maybe this should have been an exception. He inhaled through his nose. The dress smelled faintly of cherries. Throat dry, he knocked twice. Her voice replied from within, veiled somehow.
"You're right on time, darling! Come right inside..."
Gingerly he turned the doorknob and entered Olivia's house. Just as he had, many times before. They were friends, after all.
Inside was dark, the only light inside emanating from her solitary Lovely Lamp. He took a step within, the door closing behind him. CLICK! He faltered for a moment, the unmistakable sound of a lock snapping shut resounding through the room. Something stopped him from reaching back to try opening the door. He didn't know what it was, but right now Craig felt it would be best not to.
Seated next to the table sat Olivia, sporting her sleeveless Red Letter Jacket. He'd always thought she wore it well, a gift from long ago. His host looked him up and down, sighing.
"Not dressed, Craig?" Her disappointment carried through the dingy room for a moment, before she snapped up in delight. "Oh! You needed some pointers wearing it, perhaps?"
"Ah, n-no, I think I could put it on if... if I -"
"Don't be modest, darling! You're going to look AMAZING!" A sparkle shot from her eyes, beaming in excitement.
Craig coughed, unsure how to best proceed. This definitely wasn't Olivia. Not the Olivia whom he'd laughed about Elmer's taste in clothes with, or one he'd gone to Kicks alongside with barely concealed excitement when it had opened. Something was different, and he didn't know what that meant.
"... after all, I made it to your measurements." she added, looking down shyly.
His heart skipped a beat, cold prickles on the back of his neck. She had never made clothing for anyone apart from herself. How exactly did she know his sizes? The answer struck him like a chilling scorpion's kiss. All those times he'd come downstairs in the morning and found his house ever-so-slightly askew. His dresser ruffled. The missing clothing from his laundry. He'd merely blamed it on coincidence or a bad memory. It must have been his imagination. After all, there was nobody like that living in Rapture.
Olivia had never been given a key. Lyman had. And he'd given it back when he left. But not Olivia.
The cat hopped out of her chair, gently padding her way over to tilt the cover of the Lovely Lamp away, bathing him in an odd light. He couldn't feel his scalp. Barely he stopped his jaw from trembling. This was Olivia. Olivia was his friend. She was his friend. She WAS.
She purred to herself happily, heading back to the table and turning on the phonograph set up atop it. and swinging the needle to the vinyl. As the tune began, she turned to him, her eyes glowing happily.
"Remember, Craig? It's my favourite song."
Two Days Ago. Craig had only first heard the song at her house soon after assuming his mayoral role, and had asked her about it. She adored the song. And until right this moment, so had Craig. He stood just as he had entered, holding the cherry-scented dress and letter in both hands as she hopped back up into her chair and reclined.
"Uh... Olivia?" he started unsure. She returned a confused look, raising a paw to her chin.
"Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure I can put this on."
For the very, very faintest moment a darkness flashed behind her eyes, a terror only ever seen in the dark corners of rooms. Craig was frozen, unable to act like a mouse cornered by a hungry kitty. However, it retreated again as she made her own revelation.
"Oh! You're worried about there not being any changing screen in my house?"
"YES!" He cried a little hoarsely, grasping at any available straws. But any hope faded as she smiled back.
"It's no problem. I mean, we are friends, after all... just get changed where you are."
His eyes widened as the statement hung in the room, accompanied by her song.
"You can't be serious."
She waved her paw... and he thought there may have been a blush hiding behind the light. "I'm not a delicate flower... really, I don't think I'll mind."
Time hung limply as if on a clotheshook, their eyes not leaving each others. Craig's insides yawned open, a frosty well of dread within.
"Time's up, darling!" She clapped happily. "Mommy wants a fashion show!"
... where was Lyman when you needed him?
