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It’s been two months now.
Two long, dragging months of radio silence. No sightings. No leads. No breaking headlines flashing across screens—nothing. Guest 666 didn’t go missing in some huge, dramatic spectacle, rather, she just quietly disappeared. Like she dropped off of the face of the world. As if she had never existed in the first place.
Noob tried over and over to get the word out. Tried to keep her case alive, to ask people to keep their eyes open, to listen for anything. Any rumor, any trace, any sign. Anything to make sure she wouldn’t just fade from memory like she never mattered at all. But it was harder than they thought it would be, and they really tried. It felt like all their confidence and energy disappeared along with her. All their social energy and optimism was drained right out of them.
It didn’t help that nobody could recognize a specific Guest, and that only made things worse. It was like trying to pick out a single grain of sand on a beach. Anybody can search all they want, but they all look the same after a while.
… Maybe that wasn’t a good analogy. That just made her sound like she didn’t matter and was easy to overlook.
Noob sighed and rubbed their eyes, feeling the weight of wasting the day away by doing nothing settle deeper in their bones. They didn’t even bother to check the clock; they already knew it was probably past midnight. The hours had a way of slipping by unnoticed lately, and they were always awake when they should’ve been asleep, lost in thoughts that refused to leave. More often than not, they found themselves reminiscing, caught in a loop of memories and worries, whether they wanted to or not. And the worst part was, they didn’t even feel like they could stop it. Their mind was a labyrinth, but they couldn’t figure out how to escape it.
Most of the time, they just wanted to shut their brain off and drift to sleep like everyone else seemed to. But no, that was a luxury they hadn’t been able to afford for a while now. Thoughts of their best friend always seemed to creep back in, no matter how hard they tried to keep them out. No matter what distractions they tried to shove in place of it, Sixer was there, always lingering just beneath the surface.
On good days, it felt like they were moving forward, making progress. But the bad days… they’d knock them back two steps, sometimes more. Everything felt like a constant game of tug-of-war with themselves. The more they tried to forget, the more memories attached themselves to random moments. Maybe a song on the radio, or the color of a passing car, or the way the wind felt on their face… regardless, it really didn’t matter. Everything reminded them of Sixer. At first, was a minor issue, but it eventually built up to the point where they couldn’t think of anything else. It wasn’t like they were trying to—no, that was the problem. They couldn’t not think about it.
The thoughts that followed were relentless, looping and echoing like some cruel, broken record that they couldn’t shut off. Over and over, the same things would run through their mind, repeating until it felt like their brain was short-circuiting:
“Sixer would’ve hated this.”
“I wonder what Sixer would think of this…”
“Sixer.”
It was like some kind of weird, twisted mantra that refused to leave. Even when they weren’t thinking about it, it was there. Silent, nagging, filling every gap. The worst part? They knew it wasn’t healthy. They knew they should’ve been letting go, moving on, or at least trying to. But every time they tried to shake it off, it would come right back. Sometimes, it felt like they couldn’t remember who they were before all this, before Guest 666. And that scared them more than anything.
Just when it seemed like their mind might spiral further into that abyss, a sudden crack of thunder cut through the air, loud and jagged, jolting them up and back to reality. The sound was sharp enough to startle their cat, Tac, who had been lazing beside them. They hadn’t even realized the cat until it scrambled in panic, darting off the bed in a dark blur of fur.
They blinked, dazed, their heartbeat struggling to catch up with the moment. The room gradually came back into focus. It was dimly lit and cluttered. They’d consider it quiet, if not for the rain, now thudding harder against the window like it was trying to be a bother. They sank back into the bed, the sheets wrinkled and twisting around them, and reached absentmindedly toward their chest, fingers curling into the fabric of their hoodie for any sort of sensory stimulation.
The hoodie fit just slightly bigger on them these days, hanging looser around the shoulders than it used to. Noob hadn’t had much of an appetite lately, thanks to eating feeling more like a chore than anything. Especially when so many of their favorite snacks also happened to be Sixer’s favorites. Just another painful reminder. Another little thing that hurt more than it should.
Sometimes, they’d stare at their kitchen counter out of habit, only to stare blankly at the few unopened bags of sugary junk. Everything sat there untouched. The sight alone was enough to redirect their gaze, heart sinking a little lower each time. Noob knew it was stupid how just a can of Bloxy was enough to knock the wind out of them.
The storm outside rumbled again, low and far away this time. They turned their head toward the window conveniently tucked beside their bed. Tired eyes traced the slow, meandering trails of rain as they crawled down the glass. They followed one droplet in particular, watching it slither and merge with another, just to then disappear at the bottom of the frame. Their gaze lingered heavily there, unfocused, mind drifting elsewhere. Drifting not to memories, not to dreams, but to nothing. A blank space. The in-between.
They weren’t really thinking anymore. Not about their best friend, not about the snacks, not even about the storm outside. Just… nothing. The kind of nothing that creeps in when your brain gives up trying to make sense of things. It was easier that way. Easier than feeling.
Noob sat up slightly, then leaned back again like the movement had been pointless. The rain kept crawling down the window, same as before. Same as always. The world outside moved on, weathered its storms, and carried on like it didn’t even notice she was gone. Almost as if nobody cared she was gone.
And maybe nobody else didn’t. Maybe only Noob did. Maybe that's how awful everything about this was.
They dragged their hands over their face, fingers rubbing at their eyes, trying to get rid of the weariness that seemed to sink deeper with each passing day. There was no relief, no escape. Just the same empty loop. Same place. Same thoughts. Same ache. How were they supposed to get better when everything prevented them from doing so?
The rain had started to tap at the window like a metronome when it picked up in intensity, but Noob couldn’t even focus on it. It was just noise, another thing that didn’t matter.
What did matter was the silence inside.
They hated how quiet the house itself was. Hated the unopened snacks on the table. Hated the hoodie that hung too loose now. Everything around them felt like a joke with the punchline ripped out. It was all wrong. She was supposed to be here. Wincing at the thunder, because she wasn’t a fan of loud noises. Making some dumb face about the rain because it made Noob chuckle. Pulling that can of Bloxy from their hands and drinking it first, even though she had her own.
But she wasn’t here. And Noob was alone. Again. Still.
Somewhere across the room, a clock ticked. Not loud… just persistent. To be honest, it hadn’t even occurred to them that it still worked. The hands crept along with all the urgency of a snail, making a full lap feel like an eternity. Noob squinted at it. Almost 2 AM. Fantastic.
Tac had since abandoned the bed for a window ledge. Now, it sat there, tail flicking every so often, staring into the dark like it could see something Noob couldn’t. Probably a moth. Or maybe a car if anybody dared to drive at this time of night in a storm.
Speaking of the storm, there was another flash. Another rumble.
Noob let their head fall back against the pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling. They stared there, unmoving. Just breathing. Blinking. Waiting for something to shift, anything. Or maybe, just hoping sleep would finally pull them under like it used to.
And then—
Knock knock.
It was unexpectedly loud. Two short, deliberate raps against the front door, sharp enough to break through the hum of the storm and the soft ticking of the clock. Noob froze, eyes snapping toward the sound, heart stuttering in their chest. The quiet had been so absolute that the knock felt almost intrusive.
Tac’s ears perked as it turned to stare at the door attentively. The sound was sharp against the soft drone of rain, too real, too normal. For a second, they wondered if they imagined it.
Knock knock.
No. There it was again. Much clearer this time. There was an unmistakable urgency to it. The air around them felt thinner and heavier. They hesitated, fingers curling into the sheets as their pulse quickened. Was someone really out there? Or was this just the mind playing tricks in the darkness?
Noob swung their legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor pressing against their feet. Those knocks had shattered something inside them, something fragile that hadn’t been disturbed in a very long time. Their heartbeat was loud in their ears, thumping like a warning.
Tac, who still perched on the window ledge, let out a low, curious mew. The cat’s gaze flickered between Noob and the door as if trying to understand what was happening… or maybe it sensed the same tension that Noob felt. There was no more waiting. The knock had been too real. Too certain.
They moved. Slowly at first, feet dragging across the floor. Their mind raced with questions. Who could it be? Why now? The storm outside rattled the window in response. Very helpful.
Noob eventually reached the door after what felt like two minutes of slowly putting one foot in front of the other, their hand hovering just above the doorknob, fingers trembling slightly. A few more seconds passed, stretching painfully. They couldn’t remember the last time someone had knocked at their door, let alone at an hour as late as that.
For a brief second, they considered turning back. Pretending they hadn’t heard it. Crawling back into bed and chalking it all up to exhaustion. But something about the knock… it hooked into their brain like a splinter. It wouldn’t leave them alone.
Their fingers closed around the knob.
A breath in. A breath out.
Click…
A rush of cool, damp air spilled inside, carrying with it the earthy smell of rain-soaked pavement and something else… something much harder to place. The porch light buzzed faintly above, casting a hazy glow on the figure standing just beyond the threshold.
A person. Hood up. Head down. Clothes soaked through from the rain, clinging to its frame.
They didn’t move. They didn’t say a word.
And for a second, neither did Noob.
The seconds stretched long and taut between them, the storm hissing powerfully in the background. Noob stood frozen with a hand still on the doorknob, the chill from the outside air seeping into their skin and nestling in their veins. The figure remained perfectly halted, head bowed, water dripping steadily from their cap onto the welcome mat.
Something about them looked familiar. The slope of their shoulders. The way their arms hung close to their sides. The quiet tension in their posture. The silence that hung around them like a second skin.
Their head was hung low, hidden beneath the shadow of their cap, so Noob couldn’t make out any of their features. But even without a clear view, something about them felt… peculiar. It wasn’t until their eyes flicked to the avatar’s sweater that Noob realized the Guest branding. It was a small detail, but it made the figure feel familiar in a strange way. A way that made their stomach churn.
Noob would’ve easily written them off as just another regular Guest, if not for the glaring oddities that made this one stand out.
To point out the most obvious: the red, demonic-like horns that jutted from their head, piercing through the fabric of their hat. The horns didn’t look natural. They felt wrong, an intrusion from another place altogether. And there was something else, too—a faint aura that clung to them, curling and misting around their horns like fog. It gave them an eerie, intimidating presence.
Then there was the mane around their neck. Something very animalistic and rough, kind of like a lion’s, only in a deep shade of crimson. It didn’t seem to hurt, but the redness of it made Noob’s stomach tighten. It looked… dangerous, even if it wasn’t. Everything about this individual looked dangerous.
Lastly, the chains. The average sized, red chains coiled around their arms, wrapping tightly but with a strange grace. But the way they were wrapped indicated that they were made to be worn, not bound. They didn’t restrict movement; if anything, they seemed decorative, the kind of accessory no one would wear unless it meant something. But didn’t everybody already do that?
Noob’s throat tightened as they tried to clear it, but the sensation lingered, like something was lodged in their chest. They couldn’t look away from the figure. The paradoxical combination of familiarity and unfamiliarity made their skin prickle, every nerve on edge. They forced themselves to breathe, attempting to ignore the unease spreading through their limbs and the way their hands trembled ever so slightly at their sides.
“… U-Uh, hey?” Noob awkwardly stammered, the words feeling rough as they left their mouth. They mentally cringed, ashamed of how shaky their greeting came out. Smooth, they thought sarcastically. “Are you lost? Do… you have a place to stay?”
It was the first thing that came to mind, but even as the words hung in the air, they knew it sounded stupid. No one showed up in the middle of a thunderstorm at nearly 2 AM, looking like this, unless there was obviously something else going on.
The air seemed to grow colder, the silence stretching long and taut between them as the figure remained there, frozen in place like stone. There was uncertainty crawling under Noob’s skin.
The faint glow from the porch light caught on the red chains wrapped around the Guest’s(?) arms, making them shimmer with an almost unnatural intensity. The mist that seemed to hang around them swirled in the breeze, like the remnants of a nightmare that didn’t belong in their world.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the figure moved. Slowly, they lifted their head, just enough for Noob to see their face—
… Huh?
For starters, their skin tone matched the deepest noir of their attire. It was strange, but not entirely outside the realm of possibility.
No, scratch that. It was downright bizarre. Again, Guests do not look like that. Everything about this person was off in ways Noob couldn’t quite place.
And their face…
It was truly unique. The features were oddly familiar, highlighted in shades of red, much like the horns and chains. Though, their eyes, those tired, misty eyes—they definitely looked dear. Too important. The kind of familiarity that gnawed at the edges of memory, threatening to pull a truth Noob has been trying to deny since they first heard the knocking.
Noob cleared their throat nervously after realizing how long they’d been staring, even if it felt like mere seconds. “Do… Do you want to come in? You must be cold out here.”
The words felt clumsy, forced, but they came out all the same. The storm raged on, and Noob’s mind raced, tangled with confusion and fear alike. And the local thunder was not helping to clear their mind.
The Robloxian blinked, their eyes widening slightly, almost like they hadn’t expected Noob to offer, or maybe hadn’t prepared themselves to even answer. There was a pause, before they gave a reluctant nod.
Noob stepped aside with stiff movements, giving them enough room to pass. The figure moved cautiously, like someone walking into a place they didn’t think they’d ever see again.
Noob followed after, glancing back only to actually turn on the lights and shut the door quietly behind them. They didn’t bother locking it. That wasn’t the thing on their mind right now. Far from it, really.
They left the… stranger, for a lack of a better word, standing in the foyer without a word, too caught up in the quiet panic swimming in their chest to say anything useful. The stranger didn’t follow, didn’t move… just stood there patiently, dripping quietly onto the floor.
They were shivering.
Noob headed down the hall, feet quick and uneven on the floorboards, and grabbed the first clean towel they could find from the linen closet. Luckily, it seemed pretty warm and fluffy.
When Noob returned, the person was still rooted in place, arms loosely at their sides, water pooling around their feet. They hadn’t so much as glanced around. Just stood there, like they were unsure if they were allowed to.
“Here,” Noob mumbled, holding the towel out without making direct eye contact. “It’s the least I could do… you looked cold.”
The individual stared at the towel for a second too long before reaching out to take it, careful, almost hesitant. They didn’t use it right away. Just clutched it in their hands like it was something fragile, or sacred.
Noob lingered awkwardly and rubbed the back of their neck. “You, uh… you can sit, ya’ know. I’m not gonna make you stand there all night.”
Still no words. Just that heavy silence, stretching on and on like a held breath.
Eventually, the figure stepped further inside, quiet and uncertain, the chains clinking faintly with the movement. They took cautious steps toward the living room, trailing faint damp footprints across the floor.
Noob followed at a distance, chewing the inside of their cheek, unsure what to say… or if they should say anything at all.
They watched as the guest slowly lowered themself onto the edge of the couch, very carefully, like they didn’t want to disturb anything. The towel was finally raised to their mane, dabbing away rainwater in slow, meticulous motions. As if they were also trying to hold it together.
Noob hovered close by, unsure if they should sit too, or speak, or just… quite frankly, disappear on the spot. The silence didn’t feel like silence anymore; it felt suffocating. There was a wedge between them.
They ended up sitting on the opposite side of the couch, not too close. Not too far.
“So…” Noob started, voice low. “I’m guessing you’re not here by accident. You… you knew where my house was, and you…”
They trailed off.
Whatever words had been building up in their throat just… dissolved. The weight of the moment pressed too heavy against their ribs, and Noob found themself staring at the floor instead, their mouth slightly open like the words might come back if they waited long enough.
It didn’t.
The guest didn’t answer. Instead, they dropped the towel into their lap and looked up, eyes locking onto Noob’s for the first time fully.
Worn. Familiar.
And full of something that made Noob’s heart ache.
The guest raised their hands, the motion fluid but tense, and signed a few words.
‘I didn’t know where else to go.’
Noob barely nodded. Just a tiny, mechanical dip of the head. It wasn’t understanding. Not really. It was more like muscle memory… like their body moved before their brain caught up.
Outside, the rain had dulled into something quieter. Soft scrapes across the windows that barely registered. Tac, small and unbothered, hopped up onto the windowsill again, curling into a loose ball without so much as a glance back at them. The whole world had gotten too quiet. Like it was holding its breath.
Noob leaned forward, their hands locking together into a knot so tight the skin around their knuckles turned a pale white. They wanted to say something. They should say something. Instead, they sat there, swallowing around a throat that felt like it had closed in on itself. Sixer’s hands twitched again. Hesitated.
Signed, slower this time:
‘I wasn’t supposed to come back. Noob, I’m sorry.’
The words cut clean through Noob’s ribs, hollowing them out with something sharp and cold and slow. They watched her. Watched the tremble in her fingers, the way her shoulders hunched in on themselves like she expected to be struck. Their mouth opened, but nothing came.
No words. No sound.
They looked away and blinked hard, because they could feel it. The way their chest tightened, the way tears stung at the corners of their eyes. Noob had always been too sensitive, and now the room felt smaller, tighter, like it was folding in on itself. It gave them a sense of claustrophobia.
They cleared their throat, trying to scrape together something that resembled at least some control, but when they spoke, it cracked pathetically:
“Why…”
“I-I never wanted you to not come back, I…” Noob’s voice wobbled, helpless. “Listen, I didn’t know what to do. You were just… just gone, and before that, you were pulling away and I-I didn’t know why.”
The words tumbled out frantically, almost stumbling over themselves to keep up with the pounding of their heart. It sounded desperate. It was desperate.
Their hands jerked as they spoke, gesturing wildly, without meaning to. Like if they could move fast enough, maybe they could outrun the crack in their chest. Outrun the pity that Guest 666 would spare them.
“I thought I messed up,” Noob said, their voice hitching again, unraveling. “I thought I did something wrong, because everything felt wrong!”
“You wouldn’t talk to me. You were upset, and I didn’t know how to fix it! I didn’t even know what I did!” Their voice hitched again, ragged and raw. “And then you didn’t want to hang out anymore and I just—!”
Hot and unstoppable tears spilled over, blurring their vision until the room was just shapes and colors. They scrubbed at their face with the sleeve of their hoodie, upset and embarrassed and hurting, but the tears just kept coming faster.
“I kept thinking,” they gasped, “that maybe if I’d just tried harder… if I’d just pushed harder, if I’d just— if I’d been better somehow, you wouldn’t have left completely!”
“I didn’t know if you hated me,” Noob whispered, voice wrecked. “Or if you just didn’t care anymore.”
The words felt like swallowing glass. Each one that was spat out dragged something rawer out of them.
Noob’s cries cracked again, a brutal sound in the heavy room. They clutched at the edge of the couch, nails digging into fabric, hoping it could anchor them, but it didn’t. Nothing ever did.
Not when the silence between them had been so loud for so long it hollowed them out from the inside.
Not when Guest 666 was right there, just a few feet away, and still felt so distant. Not when she looked something halfway between a stranger and the person they once knew so well.
They squeezed their eyes shut with trembling shoulders, truly despising how easily they were falling apart. They were facing a truth that they couldn’t shove down anymore. They couldn’t pretend the gaping wound from their friend’s absence wasn’t real. Couldn’t pretend the silence hadn’t hurt more than any fight ever could.
....
She didn’t move.
Noob’s words hung between them, vulnerable and trembling, the kind of words that might break if either of them even breathed too hard. She just sat there, sunk deep into the opposite side of the couch, staring at Noob like she’d been struck in the chest with something she couldn’t process.
Guest 666’s fingers twitched awkwardly against the towel, like part of her wanted to reach out, but didn’t know if she was allowed.
Noob was crying. She didn’t know what to do with that. Didn’t know if she even had the right to try.
She had helped Noob before, she calmed them down after bad days and sat in silence with them when words were too much. But this? This was different. This grief was so open, but she didn’t know how to cross it. So, how was she supposed to fix this? How was she supposed to pull them back when she was the one who let them fall?
Her hands trembled lightly in her lap. She couldn’t even sign because Noob was falling apart too quickly to understand it. Words, even her silent ones, probably wouldn’t reach them right now.
Almost without thinking, and very low on options, her shifted forward and stretched out her hand. It hovered in the air for a moment, uncertain before lightly brushed against the sleeve of Noob’s shirt. After all, they've always been one for physical touch.
Noob’s body jerked at the contact, a sharp, frantic inhale escaping them. And then they moved, grabbing Sixer with desperate force, pulling her in like a lifeline. It was as if the dam had cracked, and all of their hurt and confusion, the loneliness they’d carried for so long, came flooding through in that one motion.
The force of it made Sixer stumble awkwardly into the couch cushions, arms catching around Noob out of pure instinct.
Noob clung to her like they’d fall apart if they didn’t, burying their face in her chest, fists twisting tight into the fabric of her sweater. Like if they let go, she’d disappear again.
Their whole body shook against her, breath hitching in broken, panicked bursts.
Overwhelmed, Sixer froze for a half second, unsure what to do, before she slowly, carefully, wrapped her arms around them in return.
At first, she sat stiff, unsure if she was even allowed to be held like this. But the longer Noob clung to her, the tighter she pulled them in. Until there was barely any space left between them.
(…Had Noob always been this thin?)
(It wasn’t too drastic of a change, but one she noticed anyway.)
Sixer lowered her head, pressing her forehead gently against the crown of Noob’s, eyes squeezing shut.
Maybe if she held them tightly enough, none of this would slip away again. Just like how it works in fiction.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Noob buried their face deeper into her sweater, fingers clutching handfuls of fabric like it was the only thing keeping them grounded.
Sixer let out a long, shaking breath through her nose, feeling every stuttering hitch of Noob’s breathing against her chest. Tentatively and awkwardly, she moved her hand in small, clumsy circles along Noob’s back. It was far from perfect and graceful
But Noob didn’t need perfection.
They needed her.
Slowly, Noob’s breathing began to even out, but the tension stayed Sixer could feel the weight of it, how it coiled tight beneath their skin like a spring. It was all for the heavy ache of everything left unsaid between them.
Her hands, which were still gently brushing against Noob’s back, carefully moved up toward their shoulders. The chains around her arms jostled as she did so. She cupped Noob’s face in one hand, her palm soft against their cheek, and slowly, with a tenderness she didn’t quite feel capable of, she pulled back just enough to look at them.
She tilted Noob’s face up carefully, just enough to look at them. They flinched at first, but didn’t pull away. If anything, they leaned closer, pressing their tear-streaked cheek into her palm like it was the only tangible thing left.
She studied them, her throat tightening with the thousand things she just could not say. So, she was stuck with silence. Typical.
Their face crumpled under her touch, all flushed and wrecked. Their eyelids squeezed shut like it physically hurt to stay open.
Noob’s lips parted, trying to form words through the broken sobs.
“I-I’m sorry,” they rasped out, voice shaking. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know… I didn’t know how you were feeling.”
The words came in gasps, desperate and raw, like they were clawing their way out of a wound that had never fully closed.
“I missed you,” they choked, their voice cracking in two. “I missed you so much, Sixer… I thought… I thought I messed up so bad you’d never come back. I thought you hated me—”
“I was s-scared, I thought I lost you forever,” they whispered, their whole body hiccuping with another sob, “and I-I didn’t even know why.”
They tried to speak again, but the words shattered in their throat. A broken, hopeless noise escaped instead.
Sixer didn’t let go.
She stayed right there, cupping Noob’s face in her hands, feeling the way they shook with every ruined breath. It pained her, as if every tremble and every tiny sound was piercing through her chest, but she couldn’t make herself pull away. Neither of them wanted that.
Noob pressed closer, like being near her was the only thing keeping them upright. Their hands fisted weakly into her sweater, breath hitching against her skin, stuttering in that awful, wrecked way that made her throat tighten up. At least, it was gradually becoming more stable.
Sixer leaned in without thinking. Their foreheads touched, the weight of it soft and desperate, her skin catching the uneven stutter of their breathing. Noob clung to her tighter, as if letting go even a little might break them apart completely.
She stayed there, her hands cradling their face, feeling how warm their skin was under her palms. She could feel the heat of their tears too, soaking into her sleeves, and it made her chest ache worse.
Her fingers kept moving without her really meaning them to, brushing along their jaw, up into their hair. Just little clumsy touches, because she didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t know how to make it better. All she could do was stay close and hope it was enough for now.
Noob’s breath slowly began to settle. Every inhale was still jagged and tight, but at least it wasn’t broken anymore, not as broken as it had been when everything spilled out between them.
Sixer felt the shift in the air between them into something more quiet and peaceful. Noob’s trembling had also slowed, though they still clung to her like a lifeline. The pressure in their chest had lessened, but their body was still slack, leaning into her with exhaustion.
The minutes stretched on. Her thumb grazed gently along their cheek again, just soft enough to remind them she was still there, still real. Noob’s eyelids fluttered, then closed, and she felt the shallow, slow rhythm of their breath against her skin.
She could feel them start to sag against her, their body going limp in a way that said they were beyond the point of fighting it anymore. Quietly, Sixer prodded their cheek at their cheek, removing a hand off their jawline to sign out a single word.
‘Bed?’
Noob didn’t respond immediately, their breath still slow and steady, like they were lost somewhere in that exhausted space between wakefulness and sleep. Sixer waited, her hand still resting gently against Noob’s face, her fingers barely pressing into the softness of their skin.
After a moment, Noob shifted just slightly, enough to let out a soft, broken breath, but didn’t speak. They just shook their head, refusing her offer. They didn’t feel like moving too much.
Their hands released their grip on her sweater at the chest area and slowly made their way to her back, lightly pulling her in for a hug. Noob’s head nestled gently atop Sixer’s shoulder, the soft exhale of their breath tickling her skin as they shifted just enough to get comfortable, the tension in their body finally starting to ease as they sunk against her.
Oh. They didn’t want to go to sleep without her.
Sixer’s heart thudded in her chest, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. The realization hit her in the quiet, like a wave. Noob wanted her to stay, and to retreat to their bed would defy that.
She let herself relax into it, leaning into the touch. She rested her cheek against Noob’s hair, feeling the slight rise and fall of their breathing, the steady warmth of their presence beside her. Her arms instinctively wrapped around them again, pulling them closer, just enough to provide them comfort.
Gently, she shifted, the weight of Noob’s body still pressed against hers, and slowly, deliberately, leaned back. The couch creaked softly as her body adjusted, and she let herself fall into it, her muscles unwinding bit by bit. As they both tilted back and turned onto their sides, Noob’s grip remained around her, pulling her even closer as they settled, their bodies melting together like a single piece of warmth.
Noob’s head nestled against her mane, their breath steadying as they gave into the pull of sleep that was finally creeping up on them. Sixer’s arms wrapped around them even tighter, not letting go. They were tangled together, their legs brushing, their bodies fitting into each other as though they had always belonged like this.
Somewhere in the distance, Sixer heard Tac hop down from the windowsill. She could hear soft paws on the floor followed by a few light scratches as the cat settled into a spot at her feet.
Sixer’s fingers traced the top of Noob’s head, slow and gentle, the touch almost automatic. She adjusted herself slightly, making sure not to disturb the fragile closeness between them. Without even thinking about it, her hand slipped to Noob’s bangs, pushing them back gently. The softness of their hair brushed against her skin, and she pressed a soft kiss to their forehead, just above their eyebrows.
As soon as her lips made contact with their skin, a regret crept up on her. But before she could pull away in shame, she felt Noob curl impossibly closer to her, as if they received satisfaction through their sleep in the gesture.
Sixer hesitated, but then gave in, letting Noob stay pressed close. She felt the heat of their skin, their body shifting gently with each breath. It was steady, grounding, in a way that made the room feel smaller… more intimate. The closeness was both comforting and heavy, everything she wasn’t expecting when she knocked on the door.
She let herself relax, though sleep remained elusive after everything they had been through. She closed her eyes, not out of exhaustion, but to embrace the domesticity of the moment. For now, pretending to sleep would suffice.