Work Text:
Riko was lazing around on a Saturday afternoon. She sunk into her comfortable black couch, head on one armrest and feet propped up on the other, still yet to change out of her pajamas.
The new doujin she was reading was getting to the good part. One of the main characters is starting to realize their feelings for the other— the best part of the slow burn— and is ranting to their best friend about what to do.
Riko starts grinning like an idiot when the best friend character makes an offhand comment and suddenly the main character’s dialogue is just a simple, italicized “Oh”. The two letters make her stand up in joy and fist pump to herself, having to physically stop herself from hurling the doujin across the room in excitement, tossing it safely on the couch instead.
Her grin widens even further when she hears Nocturne scratching on the front door. The pup likes to ask for permission to go into a room by lightly scratching on the bottom part where she could reach. Riko practically skips over to the door, twisting the doorknob open and reaching down to grab Nocturne and spin her around to celebrate her joy.
But as she swings open the door and reaches down, her hands grab air.
“Oh.”
Her mood shatters as she’s brought into a realization of her own. Her ear-to-ear grin distorts into a small open-mouth frown, her arms dropping down a bit. The ache in her heart that she had momentarily forgotten comes back at full force.
Nocturne isn’t there.
Riko stills, having to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the empty space as her brain processes the information once more.
Not anymore.