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“Lets check just one last time, you don’t want to leave unprepared!”
Despite Kris’s groan, they humored her, opening their bag and holding it up.
Toriel rummaged through the black-and-blue striped bag, listing off essentials as she found them. “Water, sunscreen… and your floaties!”
“Please don’t make me bring those,” Kris muttered through gritted teeth.
“Nonsense, my child. I remember you loved these back in the day! We would go to the lake here in town, spend the whole day there…” She gave a mischievous grin. “And you could never leave without your floaties.”
Kris opened their mouth to retort, then gave up, grumbling under their breath. Luckily, before anything more embarrassing could surface, a car horn blared from outside.
“That must be your friends! Have fun!” Toriel exclaimed, pulling them into a quick hug.
Kris squirmed free and hurried out the door toward Berdly’s Prius.
The group had decided on a trip to Lake Ebbot for spring break. It hadn’t been anyone’s first choice—agreeing on anything had taken nearly an hour of arguing.
Susie had proposed an amusement park, which Berdly and Ralsei shot down immediately. Berdly countered with a national monster museum, earning a shove from Susie that shut that down just as fast. Eventually, Noelle timidly mentioned that her family owned a lakehouse by Mount Ebbot.
Kris smiled faintly, remembering Susie grabbing Noelle by the shoulders.
“YOU HAD THAT THE WHOLE TIME AND YOU BRING IT UP NOW?!”
Pretty much everyone had agreed after that.
Now Kris approached a car packed with their friends: Berdly in the driver’s seat, bickering with Susie in the passenger seat; Noelle and Ralsei in the back. Kris slid into the seat behind the passenger side, set their bag down, and gave a small wave to Noelle and Ralsei.
“You can’t just honk my horn! That is the responsibility of the driver, and the driver alone! But of course a heathen like you wouldn’t understand that,” Berdly huffed.
“Not my fault you’re too much of a weenie to honk it,” Susie shot back.
“I WAS GOING TO—!” Berdly’s beak clicked shut as he noticed the silence behind him. “Ahem. Let’s just… go.”
…
According to the dashboard map, there were ten minutes left. The hour-long drive had passed strangely fast.
Kris entertained themself by poking Susie in the back, delighting in her squirming and threats.
“Do that again and I PROMISE I’ll drown you when we get there.”
Noelle passed the time with a retro-looking handheld console, while Ralsei stared out the window, mesmerized by the sunlight and rolling mountains. Kris couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
Then the lake came into view—its surface glittering in the morning sun, almost mirroring the endless blue sky above. The car went quiet for a moment as everyone took it in.
Ralsei leaned against the glass, ears pressed flat, as if afraid the scenery might vanish if he blinked.
“Sometimes it pisses me off how rich you are,” Susie muttered. “How do you forget you have a house here?!”
“We hardly use it! Only my dad ever came here to fish with Asgore—I’ve never even been!” Noelle protested.
A few minutes later, they pulled into the driveway.
“Holy shit, this place is huge!” Susie exclaimed, pressing her face to the window.
The lakehouse was a two-story wooden building tucked into a forest clearing, a small paved lot out front. Tall redwoods surrounded the house on all sides, giving the place an isolated, almost unreal feeling—like it existed outside the rest of the world.
The gang piled out of the car as soon as Berdly parked, eager to escape nearly an hour of confinement.
Kris, Ralsei, and Noelle popped open the trunk and started unloading—personal bags first, then supplies: logs from the forest back in Hometown, a bag of marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate bars.
“Everything a well-prepared camper could possibly desire!” Berdly had proclaimed in the supermarket aisle.
While they unpacked, another conflict brewed at the front of the car.
“Dude, nobody cares about your gas mileage, Berdly,” Susie grumbled.
The group perked up instantly. A Berdly meltdown was always premium entertainment.
“I would say it’s quite the contrary. Gas isn’t cheap, you know—not that you would know,” Berdly shot back, grinning.
“And why is that?” Susie asked, narrowing her eyes.
Berdly chuckled, as if she’d just told a joke.
“Don’t be silly, Susan. You don’t have a car. And even if you did, a person of your intellect might saw out the bottom and walk around in it.”
Before Susie could respond, Noelle burst into laughter from behind the car, nearly dropping a bag. Berdly and Susie both turned toward her as she wheezed.
Leaning toward Kris, Ralsei whispered, “I’m not sure I understand.”
“It’s a reference to a show,” Kris murmured back.
Susie ground her teeth and turned back to Berdly. “That doesn’t even make any fucking sense.” She punctuated the point with a firm poke to his scrawny chest.
“Oh, Susan, don’t get violent with me just because you aren’t as well-versed in media as some of us,” he said, clutching his chest with mock hurt.
As much as Kris would have enjoyed seeing Berdly get what was coming to him, they preferred not to start spring break with an ER visit. They stepped behind Susie and tapped her shoulder.
“Lake.”
The anger drained from her posture. She exhaled, then nodded. “Yeah. Good idea.”
They finished unloading—mostly dumping their bags in the lakehouse living room without bothering to explore. Redwoods surrounded the clearing on every side, but in one direction, a faint ribbon of blue shimmered through the trees.
They headed toward it.
The forest opened onto a modest beach, with a small cabin near the shoreline. A crooked sign read:
BIG SHOT RENTALS
Behind the counter sat a bored-looking teenage human, who didn’t bother hiding their disappointment as Susie bounded toward them.
“Welcome to Big Shot Rentals. What do you want?” they deadpanned.
“What you got?” Susie asked.
They slid a laminated price sheet across the counter and immediately pulled out their phone.
“Damn, everything’s kinda expensive…” Susie muttered.
At the mention of money, everyone turned to Noelle.
“It’s fine! Just get what you want!” she insisted, a little too quickly.
Susie started listing rentals to the employee, who typed without looking up.
“Maybe Mayor Holiday needs to be audited,” Berdly whispered loudly.
Noelle immediately started arguing with him about municipal budgets and tax structures.
Ralsei tapped Kris’s shoulder again. “Sorry to keep asking questions, but what does he mean?” he asked sheepishly.
“He thinks she’s stealing money.”
…
This dynamic had become normal.
Since Ralsei had made a permanent home in the Light World—almost a year ago now—he’d made it his mission to learn everything there was to learn and see everything there was to see. Starting from scratch as a teenager wasn’t easy.
Kris remembered how Ralsei had nearly been hit by a car his first week—traffic lights and right-of-way rules probably weren’t common in the Dark World. How he’d forgotten eating was mandatory. How he’d asked about laws, weather patterns, the day-night cycle—everything.
Kris didn’t mind, though.
It felt nice to be relied upon.
…
Susie had opted for a motorboat with an attached inflatable tube trailing behind on a long rope. The employee mumbled through the safety protocols, clearly reciting from memory.
Most of the group had already checked out—except Ralsei.
He listened with rapt attention, nodding seriously at every point. Even Berdly looked mildly unsettled by his enthusiasm for flotation devices. The employee, too, seemed caught off guard by someone actually caring.
The contract was signed. The not-yet-audited money was spent.
Everyone was ready to go.
Almost everyone.
As Susie, Kris, and Ralsei stepped onto the boat and Noelle settled onto the inflatable tube, Berdly was setting up on the beach with impressive dedication: lawn chair, umbrella, picnic blanket, handheld console.
Ralsei blinked. “Oh! Isn’t he coming with us?”
No one looked surprised.
“It’s ’cause he can’t swim,” Susie said with a smirk.
“THAT IS NOT THE REASON!” Berdly shrieked from shore.
Kris yanked the starter cord. The engine coughed once, then roared to life. The boat lurched forward, pulling away from the dock.
Behind them, Berdly’s beak opened and closed rapidly, his voice swallowed by the engine’s growl. Kris turned, cupped a hand around their ear dramatically, then shrugged.
The shoreline began shrinking as the boat cut across the glittering water.
“Nice one, Kris!” Noelle called from the tube, already bouncing lightly in the wake.
Once they were far enough from shore, Kris and Susie shrugged off their life jackets and tossed them onto the seats.
Ralsei stared. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Yeah, we can swim.” Susie glanced at Kris. “...Probably.”
Kris gave a confident thumbs-up.
Ralsei hesitated, then smiled brightly. “Well! Whatever floats your boat!”
Kris winced. “Stop hanging out with my mom.”
Before Ralsei could respond, the engine roared louder.
The boat surged forward.
Ralsei stumbled, grabbing onto the railing as wind whipped through his fur, his ears flopping around wildly. Kris braced beside him as the hull slapped against the water.
“What? You thought we were just gonna drift around?” Susie shouted over the engine, grinning wildly. “I’m whipping this thing!”
Ralsei turned to give Noelle a concerned look.
“Faster!” Noelle yelled from the tube.
She's probably fine, he concluded.
The wake grew rougher, the rope snapping taut behind them. The inflatable jerked violently over the churning water, but Noelle only laughed, holding tight.
Susie shoved the throttle forward.
The engine screamed.
Spray kicked up in icy sheets as the boat tore across the lake. Kris and Ralsei ducked low, gripping the rails as wind roared in their ears.
The tube—and by extension, Noelle—skipped violently across the water, like the flat stones Kris and Susie used to skim across Hometown’s lake. Her golden hair plastered itself across her face, leaving only her antlers and wide grin visible as she whipped behind the boat like a windsock.
“Oh yeah?!” Susie howled. “Try holding on now!”
She jerked the wheel left, then right. The rope snapped taut. The tube fishtailed wildly, slapping the water, launching into the air, hitting again.
At this point, it was airborne more often than not.
Noelle’s shrieks of exhilaration barely carried over the engine’s furious growl.
Even Kris couldn’t stop a full grin from breaking across their face.
Susie leaned into the wheel with a grunt and made the sharpest turn yet—trying to swing the boat nearly ninety degrees.
The tube rocketed upward.
For a split second it hung against the sky, red and round against the endless blue—almost majestic.
Slightly less majestic when Noelle lost her grip.
She spun free, arms flailing, her scream trailing behind her as she vanished into the lake.
Susie cut the engine.
The sudden silence rang in their ears.
Then she doubled over, wheezing with laughter.
Kris followed immediately, bracing against the seat as laughter tore out of them. Neither of them could get a word out, only gasping, half-drowned sounds of disbelief.
Ralsei was smiling too—but his eyes were scanning the water.
Searching.
After nearly a full minute, Susie finally wiped at her eyes. “Oh my god—did you see—”
She paused.
“…Wait.”
Kris’s laughter died in their throat.
“Where’d she land?” Susie asked, squinting out across the endless blue.
Ralsei fidgeted nervously with the buckles on his life jacket. “I—I don’t know.”
The air shifted.
“You don’t know?” Susie repeated, slower this time.
“I’m sorry!” Ralsei blurted. “She just flew so far, I couldn’t keep track!”
The lake suddenly felt a lot bigger.
Susie stood up, scanning the surface. “Noelle?!”
Nothing but ripples.
Kris’s stomach dropped.
“Noelle!” Susie shouted again, louder now. No humor. No grin.
Just fear.
“…Shit.” Her voice cracked. “I went too far.”
Ralsei moved to the edge of the boat, gripping the railing. “She’ll come up,” he said quickly—maybe reassuring Susie, maybe himself.
An uncomfortable silence spread over the group.
But then.
A splash.
Farther out than expected, a familiar set of antlers broke the surface.
Noelle sputtered, coughing once before flipping her hair out of her face.
“THAT WAS AWESOME!” she shouted, laughing breathlessly.
The relief hit the boat like a wave.
Susie sagged against the steering wheel. “Don’t—don’t do that!”
Noelle blinked, confused, still treading water. “Do what?”
“You disappeared!” Susie snapped. “I thought you—”
She stopped herself.
Noelle’s smile softened.
“Oh.” She swam closer. “I’m sorry. I just went under for a second, didn't mean to worry you.”
Kris tossed the rope toward her. She grabbed it easily.
Susie leaned over the side as Noelle reached the boat. “You okay?”
“I’m great!” Noelle beamed. “Can we do it again?”
There was a long pause.
Susie stared at her.
Then snorted. “You’re insane.”
Noelle laughed as Kris and Ralsei helped haul her up onto the back platform. She collapsed onto the deck, soaked and glowing with adrenaline.
Susie looked away, rubbing the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean to throw you that hard.”
Noelle nudged her foot with her own. “You didn’t. I let go.”
Kris glanced between them.
“…Sap,” they muttered.
Susie whipped around. “Shut up.”
But she was smiling.
…
After that, the group lazily rode the boat back to shore.
The engine hummed instead of roared this time. The lake felt calmer now—like it had burned off its excitement.
“Ah, welcome back! I hope you simpletons enjoyed dragging each other around like feral animals,” Berdly squawked as they pulled in.
Susie ignored him completely, hopping off the boat and making a beeline for the cooler behind his chair.
The others followed—Noelle collapsing dramatically onto the picnic blanket, Ralsei carefully stepping onto the sand like it might bite him.
Only Kris lingered behind.
“Bum,” they muttered as they brushed past Berdly.
His beak dropped open. “I beg your pardon—”
“Maybe I won’t drive you all home if you’re going to be this irksome!” he huffed after them.
No one answered.
The beach had settled into that lazy afternoon lull. Distant chatter. Water lapping against the dock. The faint smell of sunscreen and gasoline.
Susie was halfway inside the cooler. “Who drank all the sodas?”
“That was you,” Noelle said without looking up.
Ralsei didn’t join the bickering.
He was staring across the lake wistfully.
Kris noticed the shift almost immediately.
Ralsei had wandered a few steps closer to the water’s edge, hands clasped behind his back, ears perked high. His glasses caught the sunlight as he tilted his head.
Across the lake, a pair of jet skis sliced through the water in sharp arcs, spraying glittering fans behind them. The engines whined at a higher pitch than the boat’s, bobbing and weaving through choppy waves like a dolphin.
The riders leaned low into turns, skimming over their own wake.
Ralsei’s mouth parted slightly.
“…Wow,” he breathed.
Another rider accelerated hard, skipping across a wave before landing smoothly.
Ralsei actually leaned forward with it.
Kris followed his gaze curiosity.
“You wanna try it,” Kris said from right behind him.
Ralsei almost jumped out of his life jacket. “Kris! O-Oh! I mean—I wasn’t— I just thought it looked very… unique!”
Kris raised an eyebrow.
“And exhilarating,” he added quickly.
From the blanket, Susie squinted toward the water. “Oh man, those things rip.”
“Nope,” Kris said immediately.
Susie turned. “What?”
“You are absolutely not touching one of those.”
“What?! Why not?!”
“Because,” Kris replied calmly, “I enjoy being alive.”
Susie scoffed, offended. “Please. I’d be great at that.”
“That is exactly the problem.”
The whine of another jet ski echoed across the lake.
Kris sighed, silently turning towards the rental shack and pathing towards it.
Ralsei blinked slowly—then jolted in realization and hurried after them.
“Wait! Kris—!”
“You can’t stop me,” Kris muttered as Ralsei made a half-hearted attempt to grab their sleeve. “You’re having fun for once.”
Ralsei faltered.
That… wasn’t wrong.
With a soft sigh of defeat, he fell into step behind Kris.
He was used to that.
—
The rental shack wasn’t far. A sun-faded wooden hut with laminated posters of smiling families and bold red SAFETY FIRST signs taped crookedly to the walls.
Kris slowed as they approached.
The closer they got, the more deliberate their steps became.
Inside, a teenage attendant leaned back in a plastic chair, scrolling on their phone with one hand and lazily spinning a key ring around a finger with the other.
Kris stopped just outside the doorway.
The attendant glanced up.
“…Yeah?”
Kris froze.
Just for a second.
Ralsei, standing behind them, tilted his head slightly. “…Kris?”
Kris’s shoulders stiffened. Their fingers flexed once at their sides, then curled into fists.
They stepped inside anyway.
“We need,” Kris began, then cleared their throat. “One jet ski.”
The attendant blinked. “Okay… for how long?”
Kris hesitated.
Ralsei shifted awkwardly behind them, trying not to look like emotional support.
“Uh,” Kris said.
The attendant waited.
“An hour,” Ralsei offered gently.
Kris nodded once.
The attendant tapped at the register. “You ridden one before?”
Kris stared.
Ralsei smiled politely. “Not exactly, but we’re very quick learners!”
The attendant shrugged. “Cool. Just don’t flip it.”
Kris’s jaw tightened.
Paperwork was slid across the counter.
Kris stared at it like it had personally insulted them.
Pen.
Signature.
Name.
Their grip on the pen was stiff, writing sharp and slightly indented into the paper.
Ralsei watched the way Kris avoided eye contact the entire time.
The attendant handed over a key attached to a neon flotation tag. “Dock three. Don’t crash into anyone.”
Kris grabbed it immediately.
“Thanks,” Ralsei chimed brightly before Kris could escape.
They were already halfway out the door.
—
By the time they returned to the blanket, Susie was mid-argument with Berdly about chip distribution.
Noelle looked up first.
She blinked.
Then slowly smiled.
“…You talked to the attendant?” she asked, eyes widening in exaggerated shock.
Kris looked away.
Noelle clasped her hands dramatically. “It must have been really important if you willingly spoke to another human! Fahaha!”
Kris shot her a look.
Ralsei fidgeted with the jet ski key, smiling sheepishly. “I might have helped a little.”
Susie leaned back on her elbows. “Wait. You actually rented one?”
Kris held up the key.
The engine whine from the lake seemed louder now.
“…Oh this is gonna end badly,” Berdly muttered.
Ralsei looked between Kris and the water, a growing smile spreading across his face.
Seemingly instantly, the two were on the jet ski—Ralsei hesitantly leaning forward, and Kris grinning like this had been inevitable.
The machine bobbed gently against the dock, sleek and compact. Its body was a glossy, almost blinding white with streaks of red along the sides, sunlight skimming across the wet surface. Water lapped softly against the hull, nudging it in patient little bumps. The handlebars were warm from the sun, rubber grips textured and slightly worn from use. The faint scent of fuel mixed with lake water drifted upward.
Ralsei swallowed, the risk of the situation hitting him all at once.
“Kris, you do know how to ride this, right?” He laughs nervously.
“Hold on.”
Ralsei blinked. “I am holding on—”
“Tighter.”
Ralsei hesitated before wrapping his arms just slightly more securely around Kris’s waist. His fingers curled into the fabric of their shirt.
Kris smirked.
“You good?”
“…Yes?” Ralsei said, voice slightly higher than usual.
Kris revved the engine.
The jet ski snarled to life with a sudden, aggressive whine, vibrating beneath them.
“—Kris!!”
Ralsei yelped, arms instantly locking tighter around them.
Kris snorted as the jet ski lurched forward, cutting cleanly through the water.
Spray kicked up behind them in glittering sheets. The nose of the jet ski skimmed over the surface, rising and dipping with the wake. Wind whipped through Ralsei’s fur, making his whole body ripple like the churning water beneath.
“Kris!! Warn me next time!” he protested, though his voice was already threaded with breathless excitement.
Kris merely grunted in response, cranking the throttle ever harder.
They banked left sharply.
Ralsei squeaked and buried his face between Kris’s shoulders.
The engine’s whine climbed higher as they accelerated, slicing through the lake in long arcs. The shoreline blurred. The water darkened farther from shore, deeper and cooler, their wake spiraling out behind them in twisting white ribbons.
After a minute, Ralsei’s initial panic melted.
He lifted his head.
The wind hit him full in the face.
He laughed.
It was bright. Unrestrained.
“Kris this is—!”
They hit a small wake and skipped lightly across it.
“—amazing!”
Kris glanced back briefly, just enough to catch the grin stretching across Ralsei’s face.
Worth it.
They made another wide turn, deliberately leaning harder this time.
Ralsei leaned with them instinctively now, laughter spilling freely as spray cooled their arms.
After a long stretch of weaving across the lake, Kris gradually slowed.
The engine settled into a softer hum.
Ralsei blinked, slightly dazed. “Why are we stopping? Did we break it?”
“Switch.”
Ralsei stared at them.
“…Switch?”
“You drive.”
His smile faltered. “Oh. I— I don’t know if that’s—”
“Not hard.”
Kris slid back, making room.
Ralsei hesitated only a moment longer before carefully scooting forward into position, hands hovering over the handlebars like they might bite him.
Kris leaned back casually behind him.
“Well?” they prompted.
Ralsei cleared his throat.
He gently squeezed the throttle.
The jet ski crept forward.
Very gently.
They were moving at a pace that could generously be described as “leisurely.”
Ralsei whooped.
“Woooo!!”
Kris blinked.
They were barely faster than a drifting canoe.
“Wow,” Kris deadpanned behind him. “Reckless.”
Ralsei beamed. “It feels very fast!”
“You’re driving like an old lady.”
“I am not!”
“You are.”
“I am being safe!”
“You are being eighty.”
Ralsei huffed indignantly and twisted the throttle a little more.
The jet ski picked up speed.
He squeaked—but did not let go.
“See?!” he called triumphantly, wind catching his voice. “Speed!”
They hit a small ripple.
The front bounced.
Ralsei overcorrected.
The handlebars jerked right.
Then left.
“Kris—”
The nose of the jet ski caught awkwardly against their own wake.
There was a split second of weightlessness.
Cold engulfed them in a rush of bubbles and sound.
Kris surfaced first, hair plastered to their face.
Ralsei popped up seconds later, sputtering, glasses miraculously still on.
There was a beat of stunned silence.
Then Kris started laughing.
Ralsei blinked at them—
—and burst into laughter too.
The jet ski floated a few feet away, engine stalled, rocking innocently like it had done nothing wrong.
Between gasps and laughter, they paddled toward it.
“I told you,” Kris managed between breaths.
Ralsei pushed wet hair from his eyes, smiling helplessly. “You said it wasn’t hard!”
“It’s not.”
“You didn’t say it was slippery!”
Kris snorted.
They reached the side of the jet ski, gripping it as they caught their breath, both still laughing, both soaked through, the lake stretching endlessly blue around them.
…
Much later, and after the never-ending laughter at the soaked pair’s expense, they had sprawled out on a beach towel, basking in the fading evening sun.
Kris wrinkles their nose distastefully.
“Wet goat.”
He shoves them gently. “Like it’s not your fault,” he says playfully.
He opens his mouth to continue, but only a cough comes out.
“O-oh, sorry about that.” He clears his throat quickly, flashing a smile that looks a little too rehearsed. “Bit of lake.”
Kris narrows their eyes.
Ralsei pretends not to notice.
The breeze coming off the water has cooled since earlier, carrying that late-evening bite that sneaks up on you. Ralsei rubs at his arm absentmindedly, still smiling, still trying to look perfectly composed.
Another cough slips out, rougher this time. He angles away slightly, like that’ll make it less obvious.
“I’m fine,” he says, far too quickly.
Kris leans in closer.
They don’t say anything at first. They just stare.
Ralsei fidgets under it. “Really. I just swallowed some water earlier, that’s all.”
Kris reaches up and presses the back of their hand to his forehead.
Ralsei goes very still.
“…Kris.”
They don’t pull away immediately.
“You suck at lying,” Kris says.
“I do not,” he protests weakly.
“You do.”
He tries to muster offense. It comes out smaller than intended. “I am very capable of—”
He coughs again, turning away to hide it.
Kris stands.
“We’re going back.”
—
The others notice the shift right away.
“No way,” Susie groans from the towel, propping herself up on her elbows. “We just got comfy.”
Noelle sits up, brushing sand from her skirt. “Is everything okay?”
Ralsei waves both hands quickly. “Oh! Yes! Perfectly—”
The cough cuts him off again.
Susie squints. “Dude, you sound like you inhaled the lake.”
“I did not inhale the lake,” Ralsei says with dignity, though his teeth chatter slightly at the end of the sentence.
Noelle’s expression softens. “You’re kinda shaking…”
“I am not—” He pauses, realizes he absolutely is, and lowers his voice. “It’s just the wind.”
Kris is already grabbing the towels.
That settles it.
—
Inside, the lakehouse feels dim and cool, the sun dipping low enough to turn the windows gold. The others scatter almost immediately — Susie toward the kitchen, Berdly already launching into a very embellished retelling of the crash.
Noelle lingers at the stairs.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asks gently.
Ralsei smiles again. Softer now. “Just tired.”
Her eyes flick to Kris, then back to him.
“It must’ve been really important,” she says, teasing lightly, “if they were willing to talk to a human and crash a jet ski in the same afternoon.”
Kris shoots her a look.
She laughs and heads upstairs.
Eventually the house quiets.
Doors close. Cabinets shut. The noise settles into that comfortable evening hum.
Ralsei sits on the edge of the bed in the guest room, hands folded neatly in his lap. His movements have slowed, just a little. He sways once before catching himself.
“I really am fine,” he says again.
Kris leans against the dresser, unimpressed.
“You’re not.”
Ralsei exhales softly, the sound thin. “It was very fun though,” he insists, as if that balances it out.
Another cough bends him forward slightly this time.
Kris crosses the room in two steps and nudges him backward onto the mattress.
He lands with a small surprised noise.
“Kris—”
“Rest.”
Ralsei looks up at them from the pillows, blinking. There’s something uncertain there now, something he doesn’t quite know what to do with.
“You don’t have to stay,” he says quietly. “I can take care of myself.”
Kris pulls the blanket up around his shoulders.
“I know.”
They tuck it in a little tighter than necessary.
Ralsei’s fingers curl into the edge of the blanket.
He isn’t used to being on this side of things.
Not to say he didn't like it.
Kris turns toward the small kitchenette, already scanning the cabinets.
“Soup,” they mutter to themselves as they rummage through every drawer with a concentrated stare.
“Kris…” Ralsei croaks, causing them to turn their attention back to him.
“You don't have to do this, I'm not even that hungry, just get some sleep.”
They turn back to the drawers and continue rummaging, like he had said nothing at all. He sighs and melts back into the mattress, grinning to himself beneath the covers.
Oh well.
A cabinet door creaks open.
Then another.
A quiet clatter of metal against metal as Kris digs through a drawer with the intensity of someone solving a personal vendetta.
“Found you,” they mutter after a moment, pulling out a dented can triumphantly.
The soft hiss of a can opener cuts through the room. A pot is set on the stove with more force than necessary. Water runs briefly. The burner clicks twice before igniting with a low blue flame.
Ralsei watches the whole process with a fond sort of defeat.
“You’re being very dramatic about this,” he says weakly.
“And you’re being very stubborn.”
Kris gives the soup one final stir before pouring it into a bowl. Steam curls upward in thin ribbons.
They cross the room and sit on the edge of the bed.
Ralsei tries to push himself upright.
“I can hold it,” he insists, reaching for the bowl.
Kris shifts it just out of reach of his pathetic paws, causing him to finally give up, and collapse back down with a sigh.
“Give up, I’m taking care of you.”
Ralsei shrank farther under the covers, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. Why was I trying so hard to avoid this?
The spoon dips into the soup.
Kris holds it there, patient and unmoving.
Ralsei stares at it like it’s a moral challenge.
“Kris,” he says, trying for dignity. “This is really unnecessary.”
The spoon does not waver.
He huffs softly, ears drooping just a fraction.
Another quiet pause.
The spoon moves a little closer.
Ralsei’s hand reaches up again, slower this time, attempting to intercept it.
Kris gently nudges his wrist back down without looking away.
Their eyes meet for a second.
Ralsei immediately looks at the blanket instead.
“Fine,” he murmurs with a smile. “I give up.”
Kris raises an eyebrow.
Very slowly, very reluctantly, Ralsei opens his mouth. Struggling to hold eye contract.
Kris can’t hold back their grin at the sight. This was their victory, prevailing over the stubborn goat who wouldn’t just sit back and let himself be cared for.
The spoonful disappears.
He swallows.
There’s a long, evaluative pause.
“…It’s too hot,” he says, though it clearly isn’t.
Kris blows on the next spoonful anyway, giving him a knowing look.
Ralsei flushes faintly but doesn’t comment.
Another bite. Then another.
Somewhere around the fourth spoonful, his shoulders begin to relax.
By the seventh, he’s leaning slightly into the pillows instead of fighting them.
“You’re enjoying this,” he accuses quietly.
Kris shrugs.
He tries to meet their eyes again, fails, and settles for staring at the spoon instead.
“…Thank you,” he says after a moment, so soft it almost doesn’t exist.
Kris hums in acknowledgment.
When the bowl is empty, they set it aside and pull the blanket back up around him.
Ralsei doesn’t protest this time.
His hand drifts weakly toward Kris’s sleeve before he seems to think better of it.
Kris notices anyway.
They stay seated on the edge of the bed.
Outside, branches shift against the window in the evening breeze. The last strip of gold light on the wall thins, then disappears entirely. The room settles into blue, then gray.
Ralsei’s breathing evens out.
A few minutes later, it turns to the faintest, uneven snore.
Kris doesn’t move, simply curling up on the foot of the bed.
They lie there in the darkness, listening,
one left awake to witness the calm of the house.
Breaths became longer, heartbeats slowed,
and then there were none.