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"...I know you're there."
Yeah. She should have seen that coming. Firefly stepped out from the kitchenette's doorway, her fingers worrying the hem of her pajama shirt as she focused on keeping her eyes on Blade. He was still woozy from Kafka's ability, keeping a tight grip on the open fridge door with his good hand while the other shielded his eyes from the cold, clinical light shining up his front.
"Sorry," she mumbled, scuttling up a bit closer. It was an earnest attempt to make things less awkward, but the atmosphere still hung heavy like it always did after Blade had... usually they called it a flare-up, but that always felt a little too tame for what actually happened when the Mara sank its roots into something sensitive.
Blade opened the fridge door a little more. "Looking for something?"
"Ah, no. Just kinda... wandering." Wandering. At three in the morning. Blade had the courtesy not to call her on her flimsy excuse.
"You should be in bed."
"You should, too."
The look he shot her wasn't as angry as she was expecting it to be. There was an edge to it, of course, but it was dulled, rusted from exhaustion and the pain still buzzing behind his eyes like a swarm. Blade lifted his bandaged hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a clipped sigh in an attempt to alleviate the pressure. It didn't do much.
Firefly crept a bit closer and dared to hold a hand near Blade's forearm, her own slightly rough fingers hovering just above his sleeve. When he dropped his hand from his face, hers similarly retreated.
There was so much Firefly wanted to say, but she didn't even know where to start. She wanted to tell him it would be okay, but they both knew that was at least half a lie where Mara was concerned. At best this would be a cycle that continued over and over and over, triggering over any little thing that hit just a bit too close to his heart. Kafka could keep a lid on it for now, sure, but there was no accounting for that holding out over time. As Blade got older, as she got weaker, as time passed and put more cracks in them. It reminded her so much of her own illness, except she had the promise--the comparative relief--of a death to account for. Blade didn't have that.
Her brain was so busy buzzing with the Worst Case Scenario that she didn't even remember where she was until she felt cool glass against her cheek. She flinched back to herself, her nerves alighting for the briefest of moments.
"Take it," Blade's low voice ordered, gentle but clear. That cool glass she'd felt was a bottle of tea he was holding carefully in his good hand, outstretched towards her. "And before you ask, yes, I have my own." He lifted a similar bottle in his other hand, then used the butt of the bottle to nudge the fridge door shut.
Firefly took the bottle with both hands, feeling the coldness of the glass spread across her palms. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, but she didn't mind. It was a good kind of cold when she was expecting it. "Oh. Thanks." She rolled the bottle in her hand to look at the label. "Isn't this Silver Wolf's, technically...?"
"If she kept it in her own fridge, then maybe." Was he trying to be funny? It was hard to tell with his flat tone sometimes.
Blade gave her a little nod, almost too small to be perceived, then walked past her, out back towards the living room. He didn't stop or slow or give any indication that he was waiting for Firefly to come with him, but she did anyways, hovering a foot or so back as she tried to wrestle the metal cap of her tea open.
"Are you going back to bed?" She asked, keeping her voice hushed as to not disturb any of the others.
"No," Blade murmured. He didn't really have to put any effort into staying quiet.
"...So are you just going to sit out here in the dark?"
He bent over and tossed back the thin blankets he'd dragged out to the couch, then plopped back down where he had been before his nightmare. He hoped that the action would be enough to answer Firefly's question, but when she just stood there on the other side of the coffee table, staring at him, he responded "Probably, yes."
Firefly gave the cap another hard twist with her whole arm, still not having any success. "Can I stay out here with you for a while, maybe?"
Blade sighed softly and gestured her over with his good hand. She perched herself close to his left, half-sitting on the blankets as he took the bottle from her and twisted it open with a single movement. That was as much welcome as she was going to get, but it did make her feel better.
The two just sat there in silence together, quietly drinking their tea in the dark as the time tick-tick-ticked past. It was... nice, even if the atmosphere was still a little tense from the events of earlier in the night. It was cool from both the air and the drinks in hand, but warm, too, thanks to the blankets pooled by Firefly's side.
"...Feel better?"
Blade's voice didn't cut through the dark like it normally did, instead nudging it aside carefully, like a veil.
"...Yeah."
She took another sip of her tea and tried not to let her mind wander back to where it had been before.
"A little cold," she added, in a voice thicker than she meant it to be. "I think it's just from the tea." Suddenly her lungs felt fuller, and it made her sniff.
Blade shifted beside her, mumbling an excuse under his breath as he took a blanket from the pile and carefully brought it around her back. He laid it carefully over her shoulders, then crossed it over her arms.
"Snug as a bug in a rug." Even though his voice was flat, Firefly could feel the warmth behind it.
The dark in front of her began to blur, and a stifling heat began to gather along her jawline and neck. "Yeah."
She leaned against Blade's arm, only for it to raise and wrap around her tiny frame. "Sleep, xiao chongzi," he murmured into her silvery hair. "You'll forget this by morning."
She wouldn't. And neither would he. But for some reason, that didn't bother either of them.