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It had been over a year since Technoblade had last seen his friends.
Sure, they had talked over discord, laughed, and played games together, but it wasn’t the same as it would be in person. The pandemic came out of nowhere and had really fucked them all over. Techno was forever eternally grateful that he and his friends were lucky enough to have jobs that provided enough for them when this hit, but it didn’t soften the emotions he would feel any less.
He flipped over in bed, muscles protesting at the sudden movements as his greasy, pink hair fell in front of his eyes. He let out a puff of air in some sort of attempt to get it away. He was curled up into a ball, his arms wrapped around his legs loosely as unshed tears shone in his eyes. Techno’s pajamas shifted uncomfortably against his skin. People talking around his apartment complex only provided background noise as a release from the silence that normally penetrated his ears.
The days seemed to pass by in a blur, now, with Techno rarely getting out of bed and just laying there. He’s pretty sure that the tear stains were still there.
He’s not sure why now, all of a sudden, he was starting to spiral like this and not at the beginning of the pandemic. Maybe it’s because of it finally starting to sink in, maybe it was because of the time span, or perhaps something entirely different. He wasn’t too sure.
He was sure of one thing though, and that was never before had Techno felt this sort of longing.
He longed for the warm hugs, the cheerful and joyous laughter, and just seeing his friends without the hanging threat of a virus. He misses the way Phil would crack up laughing, he misses the way Wilbur would sing god-awful songs off-key, and he misses Tommy’s constant rambling.
Techno missed them so much.