but i don't wanna fall asleep just yet.

"Your friend's staying the night," Ms. Chidouin stated, opening the refrigerator again. "Is that okay?"

Sara seemed almost dazed, gaze flicking between Joe and her mother. It took her a bit to figure out what to say, and though it seemed uncharacteristic of her, he wondered if she would turn him down for showing up out of the blue.

"Of- Of course it is," Sara managed to respond, staring at the brunette instead of looking at Ms. Chidouin. She bit her lip lightly, seeming to contemplate her words once more. "Is... everything okay?"

YTTD; Tazuna Jou, Chidouin Sara, Chidouin Sara's Mother; Pre/Non-Death Game; Gift for Melon_Mastermind.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: happy bday vee !! :D <3 (or, well, ten days late. but shhhh this was on time trust me /j)

Although hesitant, the brunet sucked in a breath and rang the doorbell. He was quick to bring his arms back close to him, hugging himself to stay warm in the pouring rain. The hoodie he brought was proving to be no use, the remaining bits of hairspray washing out with the water that showered onto his head.

It was cold. Freezing, even. He shivered, yet he did his best to stay quiet. For a moment, he peered to the side, the lights shut inside the house. What time even was it...?

The boy shook his head, water sprinkling onto his face. Maybe he should just go home. Or... try to, at least. Maybe he'd get lucky, and the door would be unlocked. If not, he supposed the window would do too, but it'd be a hassle climbing up there in the rain.

... What on earth was he even doing right now? This was a stupid idea. He should've figured that from the start.

He spun on his heel, sneakers splashing in the water as he walked down the steps. He glanced at the sign that stood in front of the house, one that he'd seen numerous times.

Chidouin Residence.

"Tazuna?"

Light from inside the house escaped, outlining his shadow. He paused in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the voice. Slowly, he turned around, pushing some hair out of his face so he could see properly. There stood a woman, wavy, ginger hair draped over her shoulders. She squinted, placing a hand above her eyes to see better.

He recognized her quite easily. Ms. Chidouin... Sara’s mother.

"Why are you out this late? In the rain too...?" Mused his best friend's mother, opening the door wider.

Joe didn't say anything, lips quivering as he tried to figure out some kind of reply.

"You're going to catch a cold out there, come in!" Called out Ms. Chidouin, motioning her hand inside the house. Without thinking, Joe walked towards the woman, feet splashing in the puddles again. The woman simply stepped out of the way, waiting until he came in before shutting the door behind him.

Water dripped off him, making a mess on the floor of the hallway. There came a stab of guilt in his chest; even the rug to wipe his shoes on was helping. His heart pounded, unable to drag his gaze up from his feet.

How embarrassing.

"Shouldn't you be at home? Do your parents know where you are?" Ms. Chidouin asks, her voice stern, yet that tone of concern was laced in it like usual. He couldn't say he liked it, but it was familiar too. It was weird to hear such a specific voice from an adult again, but it was nice, at least.

He paused, focusing on making himself stop shaking. He didn’t even know if it was from the cold at this point. It was quite warm in the house, so it couldn't possibly be. Maybe it was still from...

The yells of two people entered his head again. His breath hitched, though he shook his head.

"Can I... Can I stay the night...?" Asked Joe, his voice uncharacteristically brittle. A beat of silence passed, and for a moment, he was half expecting the woman's voice to get louder, despite how out of the blue that would be.

Instead, Ms. Chidouin sighed. He glanced up briefly, catching a pitiful look in her eyes. It's embarrassing, he thinks, but he says nothing. He blinks a couple of times, quietly breathing in through his nose and holding it.

"... I'll get you a towel and a change of clothes." The woman says, her voice gentle. She tried to offer him a smile, but he could tell she was pushing it a little. "You already know, but the living room is on the left, alright?"

"I... I can wait here," insisted Joe, balling his hands into fists at his sides. The absence of his golden bracelets irked him, the jingling noise being something that somewhat comforted him. The half-heart charm he wore grazed the back of his hand, placing him somewhat at ease. At least he had that going for him. "Don't wanna... mess up the floors more, y'know?" He forces a small chuckle, the corners of his lips turning upward. It doesn't last very long, the boy pressing his lips together tightly.

Ms. Chidouin nods. "Alright, then. Sara's upstairs in her room, would you like me to let her know you're here?"

"... I guess. If she isn't asleep, that is."

The woman simply hums in response, her long ginger hair shifting on her shoulders as she nods again. "Gotcha. I'll be back shortly, then."

Joe exits the bathroom, tugging on his brown hair with the towel. It smells nice, he thinks. At least it was compared to the towels at home. The detergent was always the generic store brand, sometimes just the last remaining drops of the bottle, and usually it didn't smell that great—it did the job though, which was all they could afford.

He placed the towel on his shoulders, pushing back his hair so it flopped on top of it to dry. The short sleeves of his t-shirt flapped around, and for a moment, he found himself holding back a small chuckle. It was kind of funny. He had to roll up the pants so they wouldn't be dragged around as well.

"Hey, they're not too big on you. That's good," commented Ms. Chidouin as she glanced into the hallway. "My husband's out of town for the next... couple days, possibly, so it should be fine to stay the night."

The teenager let out a soft sigh of relief, a breath he was unaware of escaping from his lungs. It wasn't that he disliked Mr. Chidouin, certainly not, he was probably a great person. He supposed it was more of... the fact that the man probably didn't like him? At least, he seemed like he didn't.

"Alright..." Joe slowly nods, tugging on the stretchy friendship bracelet on his wrist. "Is- Is Sara up? It's not... that late, but I get it if she isn't." He bites down on the inside of his lip, almost irritated at his inability to form straight sentences at the moment. Get it together, you dolt! He hates the way he's stumbling over his words, though it was hard to put together any coherent sentence in his head before he spoke.

"She said she was studying, but she'll be down soon," responded Ms. Chidouin, disappearing into the kitchen.

The brunette follows the woman out of the hallway, eyes trailing on the little details of the house. He's been here numerous times, but there was something different about it when he wasn't focused on his best friend. It was quieter, even if that wasn't something he always liked.

Photos hung on the wall lined the hallway from many different occasions. In all of them was the same familiar face, one he could recognize from a mile away.

Sara.

In all the photos, she wore a warm smile, surrounded by her family. Most of the people were faces he'd never seen before, but that was fine. He remembered her mentioning the fact she hardly remembered who some of these people were anymore.

The most recent photo was one he had to take a pause to look at. Sara's seventeenth birthday, an outing at some restaurant Joe had only heard of from classmates. A restaurant that he'd only be able to look at from the outside, guiltily wishing he'd had more fortunate circumstances in terms of money.

Yet that day, Sara invited him to come with them. Even if he was uncertain about going, he couldn't exactly turn her down when she threw a pebble at his bedroom window from outside. He never really thought about how she didn't break it.

The photo was taken by someone random just outside the restaurant, someone nice enough to be the photographer of a picture of a couple of people. Even if Joe only recognized himself, Sara, and her parents, it was nice. It made the corners of his lips curl up a little, even if just briefly.

"Are you hungry?"

Startled out of his reminiscing, he shook his head, stepping out of the hallway and into the kitchen. Ms. Chidouin shut the fridge, holding a food container in her hand. "We have some leftovers from dinner. Do you want any?"

The brunette paused, tapping his foot on the floor. Had he even eaten? What did he even have for dinner? Probably just some frozen TV dinner, but he couldn't be sure. Everything felt hazy.

"I'm... I'm good," Joe says slowly, lingering on his words. His uncertain tone wasn't lost on the woman, and he could tell by the look on her face, but he kept going anyway. "I think... I think I'm just tired."

Suddenly, the sound of quick footsteps filled the air, soon followed by a teenager poking her head over the staircase railing. For a moment, Joe felt his anxiety overflow again, his body tensing as confused violet eyes rested on him. The bemused gaze soon shifted into one of concern, much like the one Ms. Chidouin gave him earlier.

"Joe?" Sara came down the rest of the steps slower, footsteps careful. As she got closer, he could see the uneasiness in her expression, violet eyes holding understandable concern towards him. He hated to see her worried, yet perhaps he should’ve thought about that before he came to her house.

"Your friend's staying the night," Ms. Chidouin stated, opening the refrigerator again. "Is that okay?"

Sara seemed almost dazed, gaze flicking between Joe and her mother. It took her a bit to figure out what to say, and though it seemed uncharacteristic of her, he wondered if she would turn him down for showing up out of the blue.

"Of- Of course it is," Sara managed to respond, staring at the brunette instead of looking at Ms. Chidouin. She bit her lip lightly, seeming to contemplate her words once more. "Is... everything okay?"

Joe clamped up again, shoulders tensing. He tapped the side of his leg, missing the absence of the jingling noise once more. Scrambling for a reply, he could feel his breath hitch in his throat, growing more tense by the minute.

His mind raced, replaying the earlier events as if he needed another reminder of how it all went down. The sound of the bottle crashing and breaking echoing, the noise so deafening he could’ve sworn it had happened right next to him. He was in his room, pacing around in an attempt to soothe himself. The yelling got louder and louder, the words becoming clearer than the droplets of water on the window.

He wasn't sure what he was thinking, but he found himself leaving his bedroom. His legs shook as he walked past the living room, the voices getting louder. What was being said was nothing more than muffled words now, but it had been so distinct in the moment. It was initially about something insignificant, but then it escalated to the bills pinned to the refrigerator with a magnet, and then the barren contents inside the cabinets, and then the roaches and the rats running around the house, and then—

He was so sick of it. He hated hearing the same argument and the same words exchanged, and maybe, just maybe, if he stepped in, they'd stop. If he'd realized his emotions getting out of hand were affecting someone way younger than him, he'd get a hold of himself, he thinks.

Maybe the reaction he got was because he wasn't a kid anymore, though. The yelling became directed at him, with snide comments from one adult to the other at how much of a bad parent they were. It was all about how he shouldn't talk back to adults, how disrespectful he was being, and then they got in his case for being unable to bite back again.

He wasn't "biting back" in the first place.

He just wanted the yells of his parents to stop.

It was overwhelming.

Eventually, amidst the chaos, Joe managed to slip out of the living room, nearly tripping on his own feet as he scrambled to get back to his room. He had started tugging on his hair, stress starting to claw at his brain from the short period of events. His breathing was shortened to sharp and shaky breaths, hands beginning to shake uncontrollably.

What on earth was he thinking? Even when he couldn’t pick apart the little details in the memory anymore, the thought felt so crystalline. Butting in on his own parents like that... How stupid was he, for thinking that would work?

His head began to hurt, and he didn't know what the cause was anymore. He felt that same feeling now, the room spinning as he blinked.

Sara waved her hand in front of his face, violet eyes glowing with worry and growing panic. It took him a moment to remember where he was, blinking a couple more times as the white kitchen light shone in his eyes, a sharp difference compared to the dim, flickering yellow lights at home.

He could see her lips moving, yet no matter how many times she repeated herself, he couldn’t process it. He couldn’t focus. What was he even doing here so late, bothering his best friend and her mother? How selfish of him, to push his problems onto them like this, even if they didn't know the whole story yet.

"Tazuna?" Sara's mother placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, chocolate brown eyes widening as he looked at the woman. Quickly, she drew her hand back. "... Apologies for startling you."

Joe attempted to calm himself. He wasn't having a hard time breathing now, at least, but his heart still raced. He could feel each pound in his chest, and he almost felt lightheaded for a moment there.

"Uh... It's... uh-" He bit the inside of his cheek, grasping the bracelet on his wrist again. With one glance Sara's way, it was pretty obvious she was trying to figure out what was wrong. Her eyebrows knitted together, lips pressed in a firm line as she stared. It wasn't helping much.

He looked away, shifting his weight to one leg. "It's fine- I'm fine!" With whatever he could muster, he tried to laugh. It was far from genuine, or convincing for that matter, but maybe it'd get them off his case for now. "I'm... thankful ya guys are letting me stay over. My parents are just..."

There was a pause. He lingered on the words he was about to say, trying to find a better way to phrase his words, though he didn't need to finish his sentence.

"... I get it." Sara sighed, pulling her arms close to her chest. When he looked up, he could see the way her gaze softened. "I can... show you to the guest room if you're tired?"

"Yeah, I think it'd be best if you got some rest now," Ms. Chidouin added. "Let me know if you need anything, alright?"

Joe slowly nodded. That's all he could quite manage.

"What happened down there?"

Sara shut the door behind her, crossing her arms. She had her hair tied in a ponytail, one much longer than the one she wore at school due to the fact she didn't braid it like usual. It swung to the side as she leaned against the wall, her gaze watching him carefully.

Joe placed a hand on the mattress of the bed. For a guest room, it still looked incredibly nice... A room that belonged to no one in particular, yet it somehow beat the way his own bedroom looked.

He couldn't complain too much, though. He knew that.

"... Joe."

The brunette snapped his head up. Her midnight-colored eyes met his, and for a moment, it was dead quiet in the room, save for the rain pattering on the glass window.

"You usually let me know if you're coming over, even if it's late," Sara pointed out, her tone sounding flat. She seemed to realize this, clearing her throat and coming closer to him. "Not to mention you look like a mess. My mom said she was getting you clothes and a towel because you didn't bring an umbrella. What's going on? Talk to me, Joe."

Joe bit the inside of his cheek again, this time being accompanied by the slightest sting and warmth in that particular spot. It hurt a little, but he didn't show any reaction to it.

"... It's fine, Sara," He responded automatically, immediately wishing he could sound more believable. The cheeriness in his voice felt almost drained, and he hated it. For someone who always heard his own voice with a beat of energy combined with it, forced or not, it was strange hearing himself sound so... tired. He couldn't even push himself to try and seem otherwise either. He could only imagine what Sara was thinking of it right now.

She stopped walking once she was right next to him, sitting down on the bed. She pats the spot next to her, tilting her head towards it so he'd sit too. It took him a moment to get the memo, but he complied without complaint.

"Pfft- You look silly in my father's clothes," she says after some silence, her tone softer. He can hear the light chuckle in her voice, and the slightest nudge on his arm. "Are you comfortable, at least?"

The brunette hummed, looking over at her. "Yeah, it's uh... it's pretty nice. Really big, though- I mean, look at this!" He lifted one of his arms, the short sleeve flapping around with the sudden movements. A weak laugh left him, a soft smile spreading across his cheeks.

Sara couldn't help her own giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. He couldn't help but laugh once more, dropping his arm and shaking his head.

As his laughter died down, his smile slowly started to fade. He chewed on his lip, sighing. "... Y'know, your mom's a lot nicer than mine," he said, running a thumb over the soft blue bedspread. He was hardly even thinking as he spoke, eyes glued to the comforting shade he sat on.

The ginger perked up, her grin disappearing. "... Really?" She questions, almost surprised by the statement. "What's your mom like...?"

Joe paused, scrunching up some of the bedspread fabric in his hand. The texture made him shiver, his nails uncomfortably scratching against the material. What was he even saying...? His mother was great. Maybe she got upset easily, and maybe he wished she would act like she cared more, but she was doing her best. His father was the same way.

He shouldn't be saying that kind of stuff to Sara, talking bad about them. That was awful.

"... Eh, never mind," he says, forcing a laugh. It's almost relieving to know he's not so shaken up anymore to lighten the mood instead of sitting there. Or... try to, anyway. He looked up, glancing at Sara, only to be met with another worried gaze.

He should really figure out how to keep his mouth shut, huh?

Sara looks away from him, violet eyes landing on the floor. Her cloud-printed pajama pants grazed the carpet, feet hidden in the pant legs. "... I won't push it. If you don't wanna talk about it, let me know, and I'll lay off. I... I don't want you forcing yourself."

Joe fell quiet, the act he tried to put up melting like a candle.

"Can... Can we just drop it?" He mumbled, slowly exhaling through his nose. He can't help the anxious feeling stirring in his stomach, eyes staring off into no particular area in the corner of the room. "It's uh... a lot right now. I'm- kind of overwhelmed, hah. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she reassured, looking back at him. He felt something touch his hand, prompting him to drag his gaze down. He could feel her hand on his, her touch gentle for someone with slightly calloused palms and fingers. She seemed almost... hesitant. It was almost as if she were nervous that this would elicit a weird response.

He didn't move away. Her touch was comforting, even if her skin was somewhat cold. He could feel the warmth of his own hands radiating onto hers.

It was quiet again, but it felt nice. Safe.

"... You're wearing the bracelet," Sara points out, eyes fixed on the multi-colored accessory on his wrist.

Joe nodded. "Mhm... It's- kind of nice. I usually don't wear stretchy bracelets because they always snap on me, but... it's still in good shape, so y'know." He takes a glance up at Sara. "You're wearing yours too."

"I always do," she says with a small laugh. "I never... really liked jewelry. My father's necklace gifts always made my skin itch, and I never got my ears pierced. Don't even get me started on rings, they rarely ever fit!" Her tone rose at the end, eliciting a small laugh from Joe.

"But I guess... this is different?" She continued, looking up to meet his eyes. "It's like... our thing, I guess. You're my best friend, yeah?"

"... Yeah," he beamed, and though it wasn't his usual full-toothed grin, it was genuine enough. "Thank ya, Sara."

There was a lull in the conversation, silence befalling the two teenagers. Soon enough, she removed her hand from atop his, promptly catching him off guard. Before he could get out a proper reaction, she pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet.

"Alright, it's getting pretty late," Sara notes, spinning on her heel and pointing to the clock on the wall with her thumb. "We should probably get some rest. Do you need anything?"

She keeps walking backward until she's right next to the door, her hand resting on the knob. Joe stared quietly, his hand resting on his leg. For a second, he felt dazed, his brown eyes staring past Sara.

He shook his head before he started zoning out again, looking back at her.

"... I'm good," he responds, giving a grin and a thumbs up. "Night, Sara! Try to actually sleep, 'kay? If the string cheese is missing from the fridge tomorrow, I'm gonna tackle you."

The ginger laughs, twisting the knob. "Gotcha, I won't go into the kitchen or anything like the last time you stayed over," she steps out, poking her head from behind the door.

"I mean it, if you need anything, you know where my room is. Goodnight, Joe!"

The door shut. He let out a breath he hardly even knew he was holding, letting himself flop onto the mattress, exhausted.

Joe ran faster than he ever did before. His entire lower half burned, his throat drying as he tried to gasp for air to keep running and yelling. He threw off his school blazer at some point, hoping it'd slow whatever was chasing him.

A black figure—one almost like a shadow with distorted parts—chased him no matter where he ran, from the classrooms to the hallways, to the convenience store he had a part-time job at, to the block where he walked home with Sara.

He couldn't figure out what time it was. Every twist and turn made it seem like day, night, and all of it in between. Whether there were people around or not was a mystery to him as well, the only thing visible being figures of people he'd seen once or twice before. His pleas for help as he ran seemed to be ignored by those around him, as if they couldn't care less if he would get hurt.

Or worse, as if he weren't even there to begin with.

Though he was positive he'd turned the corner on a block, he found himself in the dead end of an alleyway, his aching legs pulling to a sharp stop as he stumbled forward. The figure got closer, and suddenly, the alleyway felt much longer than before. It edged closer and closer, knowing he had nowhere to go. He leaned against the wall, hoping that someway, maybe he'd phase through the concrete, and he'd be okay.

It inched closer. He shut his eyes tight. Maybe it'd go away if he hoped enough.

He waited. His breaths were short, more so like gasps for air. His body shook, yet nothing was happening.

He peeked open his eyes. Maybe it was all in his head.

It leaped forward at him, as if waiting for the right signal to pounce. A bloodcurdling scream left his throat, yet he felt nothing as his feet left the ground.

He opened his eyes again, finding the creature falling with him, dead set on grabbing him. Its arms reached forward, claw-like hands getting uncomfortable close to his face. He turned away, looking below him and pushing his hair out of the way.

He was falling into an endless void.

And falling.

And falling.

And falling.

He couldn't even scream, his body lurching forward suddenly. The blanket resting atop his body flew off, exposing him to colder air in the room. He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, yet his heart raced like the wind, his lungs gasping for air.

It was silent this time, aside from the heavy breaths leaving him. Joe glanced at the window, droplets of water rolling down the glass, yet no new one's forming. It stopped raining.

What... was that?

He sat still, letting himself calm down. The inconsistent sound of the wind blowing past the glass was oddly comforting in a way. It helped him ground his thoughts, washing away the memory of the dream with every passing moment.

Eventually, he steadied himself. He opened his eyes again, being met with the calming shade of blue on the walls. He sighed, letting his shoulders relax a little. Joe can't help but laugh at himself. Being so afraid of a shadow... He supposed it wasn't the silliest thing he's dreamed of, but at least it wasn't that bad.

He didn't want to go back to bed though, if he were being honest. Despite how silly he thought the nightmare to be, and how stupid it was to be upset about it; sleep was the thing he desired least right now.

Joe swung his legs over the bed, pressing his feet against the floor. He didn't feel like his lower half was shaking like it was in the dream, which helped him feel a little more at ease. It wasn't real.

Slowly, the teenager stood up, making sure the blanket didn't fall onto the floor. He made his way to the door, poking his head into the hallway. The lights were off, yet that soft, yellow light illuminating from the wall lamp helped him navigate down the stairs without falling.

The floor creaked under him as he walked, though he did his best to stay quiet. He tip-toed past Sara's parents' room, holding his breath until he passed it. A quiet sigh left him, one full of relief, before proceeding to make his way to the kitchen and living room.

He placed his hand on the knob of the door, turning it slowly. He'd just grab a snack, and head back to the room. No big deal, right? It'd probably be something they wouldn't notice was gone, just so there wasn't a question as to why he hadn't accepted the food he was offered earlier.

As he pushed open the door, it creaked, to his horror. He let out a light gasp, only for it to be followed by the sharp sound of the refrigerator closing.

"Joe...!" Exclaimed Sara, though she kept her voice low. "What are you doing up this late?" She questioned as if she weren't doing the same. She held a cheese stick in her hand, the clear wrapper unopened.

"I could ask you the same thing," says Joe, walking over to the counter. He leaned against it, focusing on pushing the weird nightmare out of his mind. It probably wasn't the most effective, as every time he decided it was gone, he just went back to thinking about it again, but it was better than letting it replay in his head.

Joe eyed the snack in her hand, remembering the empty feeling in his stomach. He really should've eaten earlier.

"Aren't you not supposed to have that? Y'know, lactose intolerant and all?" He jests, chuckling. He knows that even if he tells her to not consume any dairy, she'll go ahead and do it anyway. She was stubborn, he supposed.

Well... not like he was any different.

Sara looked down at her hand, following with a small, nervous laugh. "Ah, it's whatever. I'll be fine! It's not like it's gonna kill me or anything... Besides, I don't feel like warming any food up, so yeah."

"That's fair, I guess," he responds, unable to find anything funny to reply with. His smile fades, pressing his lips together. He bites the inside of his cheek, mulling over his words for a moment. "... Do you have another one?"

The ginger stares at him, her expression almost unreadable for a moment. She soon breaks into a small laugh, pulling open the refrigerator door again.

"No need to be so uneasy," she says, grabbing a cheese stick from the fridge. She tossed it towards him, to which he somehow caught, albeit clumsily. Another lighthearted chuckle escapes her as she shut the door.

"Ah... thanks, Sara," he gripped the cold snack in his hand, the cool feeling nice against his skin. She nods, leaning against the fridge.

"Yeah! No problem," she responds, her tone relaxed. She drums the back of her fingers against the counter, humming for a moment. "You know, if you were hungry, you should've gotten something to eat earlier. I- Well, we wouldn’t have minded."

Joe sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I think I got the message," he says, a little more frustrated than he meant. He drops his arm, standing up straight. "I guess I just... I dunno. I didn't really feel like eating? Tonight was... a lot."

Sara slowly nods, pushing herself off the refrigerator. She glances around the room for a moment, then back at Joe.

"... Do you wanna go sit down? Kinda weird to just be... standing around," she says, tilting her head towards the couch. He can tell it's her attempt at trying to make it a little less awkward, for which he's grateful.

Quietly, Joe nods. He follows her across the room, fidgeting with the warm, unopened string cheese stick in his hands. He sits near the armrest, sitting with his legs crossed on the cushion. Sara sat next to him, pulling her knees close to her chest to use as something of a headrest.

He heard the sound of Sara opening the string cheese package, reminding him of the food he had. He pulled on the flap, peeling it open carefully. It was kind of like a banana, he guesses. He knew she hated them with a burning passion, funnily enough.

"... Are you feeling any better?" Asks Sara, her question a little out of the blue. He looks over at her, quiet for a moment. She takes a bite out of the string cheese, sitting up somewhat straight. "Compared to earlier, anyway," she adds, clearing her throat.

Joe picks at the tip of his cheese snack, putting little crumbs of it in his mouth at a time. He knows he'd normally be scolded for playing with his food, but he can't be too bothered to care right now. "I... guess so?"

"... You guess?" She raises an eyebrow.

"I... I don't really know, actually."

Sara's gaze softened at those words, a frown spreading across her face. He messed with the strands of his brown hair, tugging on the parts closest to his head. It hurt a little, but in a way, it was almost comforting.

"I'm... Hah, I'm sorry," he says, letting the dry chuckle leave his lips. His voice shook with the words, though he held his breath. He had to keep it together. "It's... really stupid, but—"

"Hey," Sara placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Whatever happened, I don't want you undermining it, especially if it's making you feel like this. And you don't even have to talk about it if you really don't want to, so—"

"My- My parents got into another argument."

Sara fell dead quiet, soaking in the information slowly. Whatever words that were going to be said dissolved into the air, silence settling into the living room.

The cheese stick he was holding slipped out of his hands, falling onto the couch cushion. He buried his face into his hands, scratching at his forehead. "Like- Like I said, it's so dumb. I-I just- I panicked. They were- They were a lot louder than usual, I made it worse, and—" He was cut off by an unwelcome sob, his body shaking as tears seeped through from his closed eyelids.

He didn't feel Sara's hand leave his shoulder, her thumb rubbing circles as he cried. He felt the couch shift under him a little, and before he knew it, she wrapped her arms around him. Her touch was a little awkward, yet he appreciated it nonetheless.

"I... I get it, Joe," the ginger says, resting her head on him. "It's... not stupid at all. Does... this happen a lot?"

It took him a bit to respond, trying to calm himself down. He pulled his hands away from his face, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"Yeah, for the most part," Joe's voice continues to tremble, sniffles wracking him gently. The more he thought about it, the more tears he found himself fighting. "It- It usually ends soon enough so I ignore it, but... I dunno. Tonight was just... different, I guess."

Sara hummed, nodding her head. A sigh followed, taking her hand off his shoulder. Even when he tried to hold back some kind of reaction, he couldn't help the fact he looked to the side, his eyes meeting the comforting shade of midnight in hers. She stared for a moment, then looked down.

She placed her hand out, just on top of his lap. He slowly put his hand over hers, and she gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"... My mom's always happy to let people stay over, y'know," she says, keeping her gaze locked on their intertwined hands yet again. For a moment, she almost seemed embarrassed, being as careful as she could. "It's usually my father who objects, so... you know how it is."

She looked up finally, a kind smile crossing her face. People always described it as rare, which was strange considering how often he saw the edges of her lips curl upward when she was around him. Her smile was one he couldn't forget, one that danced across his mind whenever he thought of her.

"If ever, though, I can sneak you into my room again like last time. But like, let me know when you're coming over? You nearly gave me a heart attack that night," she jests, cracking a giggle. He finds himself able to laugh, his chest warming at the feeling.

He can feel his breath steadying, slowly yet surely. With the sound of hushed yet genuine laughter in the air, he’s able to push the worry of that nightmare into the far corner of his mind. He’ll think about it later on, but not now.

It's nice. Safe, even.

Sara's laughter dies down soon enough, but it's not followed by a serious question this time. Bitten cheese stick in her free hand, she points toward the discarded one that landed to his right while he was crying. "Do you want it? I'll gladly take it if not!" She jokes, reaching over for it.

Joe swats her hand, picking up the cheese snack and holding it in the air. She tried to grab it, but to no avail, of course. He snickered, leaning to the side as Sara tried to snatch it from him.

She climbed to her knees, pulling her hand away from his and grasping onto the back of the couch for support. She stuck her tongue out, a little too focused on pulling the snack out of his hand.

"Y'know, I don't think you're gonna get it, shorty," he teases, the frustrated expression on her face growing more intense.

"Shh!" Sara hushed him, attempting to reach over him once more. Quickly after, she pulled her arm back though, and it took him a moment to realize something was up. He glanced her way, puzzled, only for her to catch him off guard by practically leaping over him.

He let out a yelp of surprise as her hand knocked into his arm, the remainder of his cheese stick falling out of his hand. The two fell close to dead quiet as the last of the snack fell onto the floor of the living room.

"... Oops," was all Sara could say, sinking back into her spot on the couch. He got up, picking up the cheese stick off the floor and raising it into the air again.

"Five-second rule?" He can't help but joke. He looks at Sara, who gives him a disgusted look.

"Ew! Gross, absolutely not! The trash can is over there," she points towards the kitchen," she points towards the kitchen, the can near the exit to the hallway.

He laughs, grinning despite the loss of his food. He spins on his heel making his way to the garbage can and tossing it in once he's close enough. After a quick rinse of his hands, he made his way back to Sara, taking his place on the couch.

"... Sorry about that," Sara apologizes sheepishly, running a hand through her long, ginger hair. "You can have mine, here—" She tears off the bitten part of her cheese stick, handing the rest over to Joe.

He paused for a moment, staring at the less than half-eaten cheese stick being offered to him. He blinked, looking back up at her.

She gave a small groan, though she didn't sound very irritated. "I'm serious. Take it! You clearly didn't eat dinner, and I'm not letting you go hungry." She explains, nudging him with the snack. "It's... not a lot, but it's better than nothing."

"... Are ya sure?" He questions, almost cautious. At first, he thought she was joking, and so he waited for her to take it back and giggle, teasing him for being a bit too gullible.

But then, she nodded with certainty.

"Mhm! My stomach's starting to hurt already, if it makes you feel better."

Without another word needing to be said, he slowly accepted the string cheese from her. She let go of it with ease, tossing the piece she ripped off into her mouth.

Sara didn't say anything as he began to eat, and so it was quiet. Normally, he knows he would say something, just to have a conversation going. Even then, he stayed silent, the tranquility set in the living room incredibly comforting. The soft noise of wind blowing outside didn't sound so loud and scary this time, simply standing as background noise for the two teenagers.

He felt her move again, leaning back against the couch. Maybe she felt the same as he did.

Once he finished the snack, he tucked the packaging into his pocket, flopping back onto the couch next to her. He let himself relax against the cushion a little, a sigh escaping from him.

"... Thank ya, Sara."

It isn't until after the fact he says it that he feels a little embarrassed. He's already said it, yet he still feels the need to say it again. It's the only thing he felt was right.

"There's... nothing to thank me for," she responds, tilting her head to the side to look at him. "You're my best friend, I'm happy to help. And besides, my mom's the one who let you stay, so you should thank her."

He supposed she was right, but that wasn't it. There was something else, something that he couldn't quite put into words.

There was something different that Sara did, solely just by being there. It's something he can't describe, but it makes him feel safe.

"I guess I'll thank both of ya then!" Joe replies with a grin, adjusting himself so his hair wasn't in his face. Soon after, he yawns, burying his face into his arm to cover his mouth. Despite it, he hears Sara follow with her own, her arms outstretched as she sprawled out on the couch.

He simply watched, letting her get comfortable next to him. He probably should've suggested that she go back to her room to get some rest, but...

He didn't exactly want to entertain the idea of being alone right now.

If Sara did go back upstairs, though, he was sure it'd be fine. It wouldn't be a big deal, of course, but if he could stay here, even if only for just a bit longer, that'd be nice.

Joe shut his eyes, letting a quiet sigh escape him. He curled up a little on the couch, leaning his head on Sara's shoulder. She didn't move, and for a moment, he'd thought she already fell asleep.

A couple of minutes went by, drowsiness slowly starting to come upon him. Just as soon as he thought he was going to fall asleep—

"... Already knocked out, huh?" He heard Sara muse, tilting her head a little. She giggles, trying to keep quiet under the impression he wasn't listening to her. When it ended, it went quiet for a moment.

"You... worry me. A lot," she admits in a soft whisper. He can hear the genuine concern in her tone, but he stays silent. "I just... I don't think you deserve whatever must've happened. Did I say that right? I hope so."

She pauses. Soon enough, she laughs again, her hair brushing against his skin. It's strange to hear her practically talking to herself, but he can't exactly say much. The mirror in his bathroom at home would be quick to attest to any comment he could try to make about it if it could talk.

"... I'm sure you're okay, though, right?" His heart skips a beat at the question, almost instinctively answering. Of course he'd be okay, what kind of question was that? After all, Sara was here.

"I don't know your circumstances, but... You always insist you're gonna be okay. I'm choosing to believe you. I can't imagine you'd lie about that to me, so..." She trails off, a sigh leaving through her nose. "Goodness, I'm starting to sound like you now. I guess I can't help it, hah."

Another pause. This time, it lasted longer. He wasn't sure if she simply stopped talking, or if he got so tired he stopped listening to what was being said.

After a bit, she places her head back on the couch, scooting a bit closer to him so they were both comfortable.

"...Well... Goodnight, Joe. I hope you're feeling better in the morning."

She stops talking after that. When it goes completely quiet, he peeks open an eye, spotting her sleeping soundly against him.

He can't help but smile.

Published December 25, 2022. (Archived December 28, 2023.)