Go check herself in the bathroom

The bathroom light buzzed faintly, flickering once before settling into a clinical glow that made Beverly's skin looked paler than usual. Tim stared at himself in the bathroom's mirror as he tried to remind himself that he was only here to remove the piercings. If he had to go out to take back his body - wherever it was now, at least he wouldn't want to be looked like a Gothic weirdo.

Tim pinched the first eyebrow stud between Beverly's neatly filed nails and twisted. Then the second and the third. The skin stretched unnaturally, resisting before the barbell slid free with a wet pop that sent an unexpected shudder through his borrowed body. A bead of crimson welled up where the piercing had been, and Tim caught himself staring at the tiny wound in the mirror, transfixed by how Beverly's skin flushed pink around it, tender and alive.

The nose ring came next, its hinge clicking softly as he fumbled with unfamiliar fingers, the silver catching the light when it finally dropped into the sink with a plink sound. Without it, Beverly's face looked softer, more innocent—almost ****. A strange feeling twisted in his chest when he realized he'd never seen his sister without this ring, not since she was fourteen.

Ear studs were trickier. The first two came out easily enough, but the third snagged on a tangle of Beverly's hair, pulling sharply enough to make him gasp—her voice, high and startled, echoing off the bathroom tiles. When the last one finally gave way, the sudden absence of weight along his ears felt bizarrely light, like shedding armor. Tim ran a hand over the now-bare curve of Beverly's ear, marveling at how different the skin felt without the constant pressure of metal pulling it down.

Choker next. The black leather band resisted at first, the clasp hidden beneath layers of intentionally distressed fabric. When he finally unclipped it, Beverly's throat felt naked, the pale skin beneath marked with a faint indentation where the band had sat for years. He traced the line with two fingers, surprised by how sensitive the area was. A simple brush of skin against skin sent a jolt down Beverly's spine, straight to the base of her stomach.

For a fleeting second, Tim wondered if his sister had ever touched herself like this, just to feel it. The thought should've repulsed him. Instead, his borrowed pulse kicked harder.

By the time he wiped away the last of Beverly's smudged eyeliner with a damp towel, the transformation was unsettling. The girl in the mirror looked like a stranger, yet achingly familiar - like someone Beverly might've been before the piercings. Back when she was normal.

Tim pressed his palms against the cool porcelain sink, leaning in until his breath fogged the glass. The face staring back was softer now, lips slightly parted, pupils dilated with something that wasn't entirely panic.

Beverly's body was reacting. A slow heat pooled low in his abdomen, foreign but unmistakable. Her nipples pebbled under the thin cotton shirt, sensitive in a way that made him acutely aware of their weight. Tim's breath hitched. He should stop. But his hands, moving without permission, skimmed up Beverly's ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts through fabric.