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Soft giggling filled the air, the faint sound of a bad Hallmark holiday movie playing in the background. MK’s bedroom was filled with a soft, hazy glow from his desk lamp. Red Son, Mei, and MK sat on his bed, watching the movie together. MK and Mei were painting each other's nails black and kept making emo jokes that Red Son didn’t understand. Red Son was sitting farther back, tinkering with some kind of small machine, but was still paying attention; it was really just a way to fidget.
MK and Mei had been talking about having a sleepover recently, and they’d somehow managed to convince Red Son to join them; not that he was complaining. He was actually having quite a lot of fun, even if he wasn’t the best at showing it. So far, they’d eaten a fair amount of junk food (Mei and MK had eaten considerably more than Red Son, unsurprisingly), played Monopoly twice (Red Son had won both times), and gotten whisper-yelled at by Pigsy about 2 and a half times for being too loud.
Red Son glanced at the digital clock on MK’s bedside table as he put the machine next to it. It was 1:14 AM; which, he wished he could say was too late, but he could stay up until 3 AM most nights. The joys of insomnia.
The movie ended and the credits began rolling, some cliché holiday song playing. Mk reached over and turned off the TV, yawning and stretching.
“Well gang, I think it’s time to turn in for tonight, doncha think?” He said, grinning.
Mei and Red Son agreed unanimously. Mei hopped onto the floor and got snug in her sleeping bag, cuddling her little dragon stuffed animal.
“Night, you two! See you in the morning!” She said, and she was out cold.
MK curled up in his blankets on his bed as Red Son stood up with the realization that he hadn’t brought a sleeping bag.
He didn’t want to ask if MK had any spares now; it was too late, and he’d probably just get him in trouble with Pigsy again. Could he teleport home real quick and grab one? Did he even own one? He couldn’t remember.
“Oh, hey, Red Son, do you have a sleeping bag?” MK whispered. Red Son almost winced at the soft tone of guilt that he had; he shouldn’t feel guilty about that.
“No, it appears I do not. I must have forgotten it at home.” He replied softly. “It’s alright, though, I can-”
“Oh, I have a spare! Don’t worry about it.” MK said, smiling. He got up and walked over to his closet, carefully stepping over Mei, and opened up his closet. He reached up and grabbed a sleeping bag from the top shelf. He dusted it off with his hands and shook it out. He laid it down next to Mei, but when Red Son tried to sit down on it, MK stopped him.
“No, you can take my bed. I’ll use the sleeping bag.” He said, sitting down on the sleeping bag next to Mei. “It’s ok, really. I don’t mind using it.”
Red Son stared at him for a second. “You’re not serious, are you?” He scoffed. “I will use the sleeping bag. You’re not the guest, you should be able to sleep in your bed.”
MK shook his head and slipped into the sleeping bag. “No, you can take it. I am being very serious.” He ended his sentence with a smile and a thumbs up.
Red Son scoffed, but lay down in MK’s bed anyway. He reached over and turned off the light on MK’s desk.
He lay awake for a while before he fell asleep. He looked up at MK’s ceiling for who knows how long. He hadn’t noticed it earlier that day, but he had glow-in-the-dark stars all over his ceiling. A sun and a moon were right above him, seeming to circle each other; if you can even imagine inanimate pieces of plastic could do that.
Finally, he drifted off to sleep.
—
He woke up in a cold sweat to a searing pain in his chest. He sat up swiftly, clutching the front of his shirt tightly, his head slightly spinning from sitting up so quickly.
Not this again.
Ever since the separation ritual for the Samadhi Fire, sometimes he’d get a sudden pain in his chest. It wasn’t common, but it happened, and when it did, it hurt like hell.
He could sometimes still remember what it felt like during the ritual, but only pieces of it, especially because he’d been so young. But it’d hurt. It felt like someone was tearing away at his soul, piece by piece until there was nothing but a hollow, empty feeling.
His chest heaved as he breathed in, trying to make as little noise as possible. It’d be dumb to wake up MK and Mei for something as stupid as this. He stopped gripping at his chest and gripped the blankets instead, desperately trying to ground himself and stop the burning pain.
“Red Son?”
He froze, turning towards MK turned on his phone flashlight, wincing slightly at the sudden light.
“Are you ok?”
“I’m… I’m fine, MK. There’s nothing to worry about.” Red Son whispered, trying not to sound like he was in pain, and failing. He winced as the pain surged for a moment, gripping his chest again.
“Is your chest hurting? What happened? Do you need something? Food? Water?” MK said, standing up and turning on the desk lamp, turning off his phone flashlight.
Red Son glanced at the clock. “MK, it’s 3:17 AM, go back to sleep. I’m alright, I’ll-” He winced and bent over slightly as the pain rose again.
MK walked over and hesitantly sat next to Red Son on the bed. “Well… Is there anything I can do that would help?”
Red Son wanted to shoo him away, tell him to go back to sleep again, but something stopped him.
“Just- Just stay with me. You can’t exactly help me, at the moment.” He whispered.
“...Ok,” MK responded gently. “I’ll be here.”
Suddenly the pain got so much worse. Red Son’s eyes watered as he doubled over again, holding his breath.
MK hesitantly gripped Red Son’s left hand with his right, squeezing it gently. Red Son squeezed it back.
After a few minutes, the pain finally subsided. He took a deep breath, laying back down again. He took a moment to really appreciate how feeling okay really feels. You never really notice how nice it feels to feel normal until you’re hit with excruciating pain for 10 straight minutes.
“...Are you feeling okay now?”
“...Yeah. But- can you stay with me, still?” Red Son asked, embarrassed.
“Yeah, that’s okay.” MK smiled and lay down next to him, their fingers still intertwined.
Red Son grabbed a pillow and put it in between them, letting their hands rest on top. He reached over and turned off the lamp again.
“Night, Red Son.”
“Goodnight, Noodle Boy.”