Collection perfection

Velean sat in her cozy apartment, sunlight pouring through the window as the sound of distant traffic hummed below. Her one arm carefully cradled a plush rabbit as she positioned it next to its companions. She looked at the plushies on the shelf, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her friends knew her as the quiet one, the thoughtful one, but no one really knew about her collection. It wasn’t that she kept it hidden out of shame—people just didn’t think to ask. In her world, Velean was simply Velean, and her plushies were a private comfort.

Today, though, was different. Today, Mercy was coming over.

Mercy had been Velean’s friend since childhood. They shared everything—well, almost everything. Velean never really brought up the plushies because she didn’t think it was necessary. What would people even say? A woman in her mid-twenties with a collection of stuffed animals wasn’t exactly an everyday conversation starter. Still, Mercy’s curiosity about Velean’s hobbies had finally pushed the door open. After some coaxing and an easy smile from Mercy, Velean had invited her over to show her the collection.

A soft knock echoed through the apartment.

“Come in!” Velean called, her voice just loud enough to carry across the small space.

Mercy stepped through the door, her vibrant energy lighting up the room. She was tall, with long dark hair that she’d pulled into a messy bun, and her easygoing nature always put Velean at ease. Mercy’s eyes quickly scanned the apartment.

“Hey, Velean! Wow, it smells like lavender in here. Did you do some cleaning?” Mercy asked with a grin as she took off her shoes and set her bag down.

“I did a little,” Velean said with a shy smile, standing by the shelf of plushies, her fingers absently brushing over the soft fabric of a stuffed panda. “I wanted everything to be nice for when you came over.”

Mercy plopped down on the couch, eyes now wandering to the rows of plushies arranged neatly on the shelves and the bed. Her smile grew wide, her excitement bubbling up.

“Wait—is this it? Is this your plushie collection?” Mercy asked, springing up from the couch to get a closer look. She moved over to the shelf, her hands hovering just above the plushies as if she were scared to touch them without permission.

“Yeah,” Velean said softly, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “This is it. Not many people know about it, though.”

“Why not? It’s so cute! I love this rabbit,” Mercy said, picking up a small plush with floppy ears and examining its tiny button nose. “This is adorable, Velean! I didn’t even know you were into plushies.”

“Most people don’t,” Velean admitted. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, watching Mercy handle the plushies with care. “It’s not like I try to hide it. People just… don’t think about it.”

Mercy looked back at her with raised eyebrows, the rabbit still in her hand. “How could people not think about this? I mean, I don’t know what I expected when you said you had a collection, but this is impressive. You have, like, a whole army of plushies here.”

Velean laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess I do. I’ve been collecting them since I was a kid. They kind of helped me through some tough times, you know?”

Mercy’s expression softened as she placed the rabbit back on the shelf and moved to sit next to Velean. She glanced at the empty sleeve of Velean’s shirt, knowing the story behind her friend’s missing arm. The accident had been years ago, but Mercy knew it had left scars far deeper than the physical one.

“They must’ve meant a lot to you back then,” Mercy said gently.

Velean nodded, her eyes flicking to the plushie she was holding—a small, worn teddy bear with one of its eyes missing. “They did. This one,” she held up the bear, “was with me in the hospital. I lost my arm when I was eight, and this little guy stayed with me through all the surgeries and physical therapy. He’s pretty old now, but I can’t bring myself to throw him out.”

Mercy leaned in closer, her voice soft. “Of course not. He’s got a history with you. He’s part of the collection.”

Velean smiled, her fingers smoothing out the bear’s fur. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. The rest of them came later—gifts from family, friends, and some I bought for myself whenever I needed a little extra comfort.”

Mercy got up again and began to explore the collection more thoroughly. She picked up a fox with bright orange fur, then a plush elephant with oversized ears. “I can see why you love these. They’re so full of personality. Do you have names for all of them?”

Velean chuckled. “Not all of them. I used to, but after a while, I started collecting faster than I could name them.”

Mercy turned back to her with a mischievous grin. “We should name a few right now.”

Velean’s smile grew wider. “Alright, let’s do it.”

For the next hour, the two friends sifted through the plushies, Mercy pulling one off the shelf, giving it a ridiculous name, and Velean laughing as she vetoed or approved the suggestions. There was now a plush dog named Mr. Waggles, a turtle called Slowpoke, and a unicorn that Mercy insisted should be named Rainbow Sprinkles.

In between the laughter and the naming, Mercy asked more questions—questions that Velean hadn’t realized she’d been waiting for someone to ask. She told Mercy about the calming effect the plushies had on her, how their softness and familiarity brought her comfort on the days when her body ached or when her phantom limb pain flared up.

“They’re kind of like a reminder,” Velean said as she held a plush hedgehog in her lap. “That even when things are hard, there’s always something soft and gentle nearby.”

Mercy looked at her, her eyes full of understanding. “I get that. It’s like having your own little world where everything’s safe.”

Velean nodded, grateful that Mercy understood. “Exactly.”

As the afternoon wore on, Velean realized something she hadn’t quite grasped before. In showing her collection to Mercy, she wasn’t just sharing a hobby. She was opening up a piece of herself that most people never saw. Her plushies weren’t just cute decorations—they were part of her journey, her comfort through pain, her small joys during tough times. And now, they were something she could share with someone she trusted.

As Mercy was getting ready to leave, she turned to Velean with a thoughtful smile. “Thanks for showing me this. I feel like I know you even better now.”

Velean smiled back, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. “Thanks for asking. Not many people do.”

Mercy picked up the plush rabbit one last time, giving it a small hug before setting it down. “Well, I’m glad I did. And next time, we should go shopping. You know, add a few more to the collection.”

Velean’s smile brightened at the thought. “I’d like that.”

As Mercy walked out the door, Velean turned back to her plushies, her heart warm with the thought that her little secret wasn’t so secret anymore—and that felt more comforting than any plushie ever could.