Amber Deen Leska

Amber Deen Leska felt her best friend's short and thin fingers press on her arm through the towel. Surprisingly, Erind took her up on her challenge—it wasn't phrased like one, but they both knew that it was. Erind held Deen's wrist with her left hand and wiped her arm with her right.

Deen had expected Erind would admit defeat and back off, then she'd be able to claim victory and revenge for all the teasing about her sweat. Maybe she could add in a couple of jokes about Erind's aversion to touchy-feeliness, and she'd be a little up in their silly unspoken game. However, Erind, probably not wanting to lose for some childish reason—the same as her—decided to accept the challenge. Erind didn't immediately wipe Deen's back, suggesting instead she'd start with her arms first.

They're so delicate, Deen thought, examining Erind's fingers.

Delicate, smooth…pale. Not like a vampire as Erind always joked, but more like elegant porcelain. After living with Erind for some time, Deen started to think her best friend was a porcelain doll.

Precious and fragile, a doll that needed protecting and care. Of course, Erind wasn't really fragile, especially after all the hardships she had experienced. But that didn't stop Deen from thinking that way.

I’m not letting her out of my sight again...

Deen blinked rapidly, trying to snap herself out of her obsessive thoughts. Those should have no place in her head. In recent years, she hoped she had mellowed. But no. Her laser-like focus on specific things she’d randomly obsess about popped its unwelcome head now and then.

She turned to her right to check Gabe, her Guardian Angel, half-expecting a judgmental glare. Her prescient pet didn't care one bit for matters that didn't affect her safety. And certainly not for her thoughts about porcelain dolls. Gabe kept its eyes tightly shut, ruffled its feathered wings a bit, and rotated lazily in the air.

She then faced Erind. Her best friend had an unexplainable expression on her face as if someone forced her to eat a vegetable she didn't like. That made Deen smile. Their eyes met. Erind glowered at her and more forcefully wiped her arm.

"Be gentle," Deen said with a guarded chuckle. "You're not supposed to remove my skin."

"You promised you weren't going to laugh."

"I'm not laughing, aren’t I?"

"I didn't know the price of being a caring best friend is ridicule," Erind said with an exaggerated hurt tone. She roughly grabbed Deen’s other hand, wrapped it with the towel, and wiped up its length. "If you're not going to be serious about this, I'm going to smell the towel."

"Don't you dare," Deen hissed back. Erind just playfully stuck out her tongue in reply. Deen felt her cheeks become hot as humiliation welled in her chest. She fought back the irrational thoughts in her head. This is so annoying...

It had been years already. She'd like to think she had gotten over it, but her reaction to Erind's teasing showed it wasn't so.

When she was a little girl, about four or five years old, a large group of boys at the preschool she went to made fun of her, saying she had a bad smell. In retrospect, they probably did it because they thought she was pretty and wanted to get her attention—boys, and kids in general, did pretty stupid things for stupid reasons.

But at that time, she couldn't shake off the enormous wave of embarrassment it caused. She was just a kid. Those boys repeated their teasing every day until her furious mother found out and threatened to sue the school and the parents of the boys. They did stop doing it, but the damage was done.

Eventually, Deen transferred out of that preschool because she'd cry every morning before going there, and things got sorted out in the end. Or so her parents thought.

Since then, she had a near obsession to be clean, avoiding sweating as much as possible when other people were around, and buying the best beauty products with the best scents.

If this was any other person teasing her about bad odor, she would've already lashed out at them, or perhaps ignored them completely. But with Erind, while she felt an irrational level of self-consciousness, she was also having fun teasing her back.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I'll do it," Erind told her in a sing-song way, tilting her head to the left and the right as she wiped further up Deen's arm. "I'll really, really do it."

"Go ahead then," Deen dared with a huff, jutting her chin out with confidence even if her heart pounded in her chest. "It's not like I sweat much anyway."

"True." Erind shrugged. "It's almost like a cheat that we don't sweat or get tired after a lot of physical exertion."

"I'm not sure if my practice session counts as physical exertion for our level. More so for you. You're way physically stronger than me."

"Yep, I am." There was a suspicious glint in Erind's eyes.

Deen realized her best friend had a devious plan in mind as she felt the delicate fingers climb up to her underarms. "What are you doing?" Her widened eyes glared at Erind. She tried to pull away, but Erind firmly held onto her wrist. "Super strength? We have a rule to not use that on each other."

"I never agreed to that rule."

"Stop that. You don't need to wipe my underarm."

"Hmm? Why not?"

"Because!" If Deen's heart was beating fast before, it was an absolute drumroll now. She was worried Erind might feel her heartbeat. She tried to close her armpit, but Erind pulled her arm to the side. Yes, she didn't sweat much. But maybe her underarms did, and now Erind would feel that.

It was just an unending cycle of embarrassment.

Embarrassed at what was happening. Worried she might have a bad odor. Embarrassed that the cause of her embarrassment was something that happened more than a decade and a half ago. She wasn't sure what to think anymore. The back of her neck was becoming hot. Maybe I shouldn't have dared her to do this?

It was Erind's mischievous expression that snapped Deen back to reality and regain control of herself. Her best friend had such a smug look of victory on her face that strengthened her resolve not to lose. She was going to wipe Erind's grin off her face.

"That's enough," Deen said, reaching for Erind's side to poke her. Time for a counterattack. "You should wipe my back-yihaaa!!!" she cried out. Erind wiggled her fingers and tickled her underarm. "What? Hey! Stop! Stop!"

Wickedly laughing, Erind let go of Deen and retreated. "That's what you get for always tickling me."

"I'm not. I just usually poke you. It's your fault you're ticklish on your side." Deen placed her hands on her hips.

"It's your fault you're ticklish on your underarm," Erind repeated, mimicking her way of speaking and also pose.

"Tickling underarms? What are you? Twelve?"

"I'm twenty-three, and I just won."

"Won what?" Deen demanded, knowing full well what they were talking about.

"Nothing. Anyway, I'm finished with my best friend task of wiping your sweat, so I'm going—"

"No, you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"You're not excused yet," Deen jokingly retorted. This time, she was the one with a grin on her face. "You haven't wiped my back yet."

Erind sighed in exasperation. "Whatever. Come over here and let's get this over with."

"No tickling, okay? On any part of my body."

"I promise."

Deen felt the soft towel rub her lower back. Erind was wiping upwards and then stopped. Deen felt a tug at the end of her sports bra.

"It's too tight. I can't insert my hands."

"Want me to take it off?" Deen said.

"Wha-? Don't undress here. Just take a bath if you're going to—"

"I'm just saying I'll remove one of my bras." Deen did just that, tossing her sweaty sports clothes far away so Erind wouldn't reach it. Her best friend squeeze her hand and towel inside the back of the remaining bra she wore to wipe her back. Three layers were really tight and dug into her skin. It felt good when Erind's hand ran over the bra lines a few seconds before they healed over.

"There. And done."

"You're not done yet," Deen said, her giggling creeping into her voice. "You have to wipe my front too."

"Huh? I'm not going to wipe your boobs."

"No, not that," Deen hastily clarified. She felt herself blushing again. What would Erind think about her for asking something so indecent? "I meant just wipe my mid-section, my abs."

"I thought I was just supposed to wipe your back? This is cheating."

"Come on...you're my best friend, right?" Deen turned around and bowed her head to meet Erind's gaze; her friend was a head shorter than her. Thoughts of porcelain dolls passed her mind again. It was replaced by the urge to pat Erind's head. This was the first time she had a thought like this and quickly squashed it. Erind probably wouldn't like that. "Just finish the job."

"Fine," Erind replied, rolling her eyes.