Chapter Text
Midnight. Again.
The desk in her quarters wasn’t the ideal space to iron out the last few adjustments to the module of the new drone she was testing, but she had hoped being out of her workshop would improve her sleep schedule. Loathe she was to admit it, coordinating time tables with her coworkers and agents was more efficient and productive. The difficult part was actually adhering to it. It was too easy to get lost in the calculations and tinkering, parts and papers spread in organized chaos wherever she worked. Foolish to think that working in her room and closer to bed would have her retiring earlier.
Sandrone pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. One of the sensors was particularly difficult. It shouldn’t have been, these were simple fundamentals. But her mind was caught up in distractions.
On a typical night, a certain persistent coworker would be outside her door, singing and humming. Or, she should have been, several hours ago. It was a blessing— the quiet allowed her to work without disruption and properly focus. Columbina wouldn’t always pass by, but she hadn’t even seen her once in the palace today. Normally, the moon goddess would pop up at least once or twice, asking some inane question or watching Sandrone work until she was chased out of her workshop. Always invading her space despite the scolding. The most irritating part was how much Sandrone noticed the absence. She wasn’t worried, these were just irregularities in her day that bothered her. That’s what she repeated to herself to quell the tight feeling in her chest. Columbina was an unpredictable variable, but at least Sandrone knew to expect her. The lack of intrusions left her on edge, anticipating something.
There was no use trying to be productive when she was this frustrated. She would continue in the morning when her mind was clear. Focused.
The room dimmed as she turned off the desk lamp, leaving scattered parts and scratch paper on her desk. A sigh slipped out as she walked towards her wardrobe, changing into her night gown. She could feel her joints release some of the tension she’d been holding all day while she untied her hair. Rest would be good. It would have been better with a cup of chamomile before she settled down, but she wasn’t keen on wandering to the kitchen at this hour. She combed her fingers through her hair absentmindedly, sitting on the edge of her bed staring with contempt at the incomplete work at her desk. Even when Columbina wasn’t present, she still managed to disturb her peace of mind. How annoying.
Sandrone pulled down the blankets of her bed, but above the sound of her shuffled sheets, she heard a gentle knock on the door. Her hands froze. The sound snapped her attention across the room.
Again, a soft knock. But this time, it was accompanied by a quiet voice.
“Sandrone?”
Sandrone stared at the door in wide eyed confusion for a brief moment, before she stood up with a start.
“Columbina!” she hissed, “It’s the middle of the night, what do you think you’re doing knocking on my door?”
There was silence after her question.
“Well? Did you come by just to disturb me for no reason, or do you have something to say?!” She pressed, walking up to the closed door.
“May I come in?”
The sheer audacity of the woman to come over for a midnight stroll and bother her in her own quarters of all places! Especially after disappearing all day. Not that she was angry about that, or missed her, or—
Sandrone gripped the door handle a little too hard and opened it just a crack. It was enough to take in the expression that Columbina wore. It was unsure, eyebrows slightly furrowed as she stared down towards the floor. It wasn’t a face that Columbina wore. Not one that Sandrone was familiar with. She stood there swaying in a long and loose sleep dress, hands that usually floated by her side now held together and fidgeting. This was unexpected. There was an uncomfortable clench in her chest at the sight, but she ignored it as she continued to berate her.
“Come in? Are you daft? What could possibly be so important that you feel the need to bother me at this unreasonable hour?”
“Please?” Columbina’s voice was soft with thinly veiled desperation.
Sandrone narrowed her eyes. There was something that was off about her demeanor. Not that she wasn’t already strange, but something else that made her feel uncertain.
With a groan, she opened the door wider and clicked her tongue.
“Fine. Come in and tell me whatever it is so I can get back to bed,” she moved to the side so Columbina could enter. Her expression lifted into relief as she floated with light steps into her quarters.
The door clicked quietly as Sandrone shut it, and turned to interrogate the airhead that invaded her room.
And there Columbina sat, settled in and comfortably perched on the edge of Sandrone’s bed.
“What are you doing on my bed?!” Sandrone squawked, and stomped over with her fists tight and ready to shake the woman. As if the bed was her own! “I swear. What, were you raised by wild animals? Inviting yourself onto people's beds?!”
“But you did invite me in. Should I sit somewhere else?” That familiar smile and head tilt returned, the uneasiness from before beginning to thaw.
“It doesn’t matter, just spit out what you are bothering me for,” Sandrone huffed and folded her arms, the usual bite in her words lacking. It was odd to have Columbina requesting something, she was usually not one to ask.
A shift in the air, her hands returned to her lap, fidgeting once again. It was unlike Columbina to be so unsure. The tight feeling returned in the pit of Sandrone’s core. She didn’t like it.
A soft exhale, then Columbina spoke.
“I often have days where I am uncomfortable in my quarters,” the admission came out hesitantly. “When people come to request things I cannot offer. Sometimes it feels as if there are eyes watching my door that I cannot see.”
It was not what Sandrone was expecting to hear. Her experience with Columbina led her to believe this was likely another one of her line of asinine questions. Words seemed to fail her at this moment, so she simply stood and waited for Columbina to continue.
“I offered my assistance today, but I can still sense the demands are unfulfilled,” She explains, her voice returning to a detached loftiness, but Sandrone could hear the exhaustion that was unsaid, “I wish to be somewhere safe for a while.”
Sandrone raised an eyebrow, studying Columbina’s posture as she spoke.
“Well, that’s incredibly vague. Who was demanding what? How is it you don’t know how to say no after how many times I’ve said it to you?” she scoffed. Was she seriously lecturing her on something like this?
Then she processed the last part of what Columbina said.
“I’m not sure what gave you the impression my quarters are a place to come and hide, since I—” Sandrone stopped. Columbina’s expression had fallen, distressingly vulnerable. This was foreign territory. It was frightening, the feeling such a look inflicted on her. It was loud and persistent in her core, telling her to relinquish the thorns and soothe. Since when has she ever felt the need to do something like that?
Sandrone groaned in further frustration, this stupid woman and her intrusions that scattered her organization and shredded the mundanity of her predictable routine. Why did it make her mind and heart twist? She loathed the messiness of human emotions. How they disordered her.
“Ugh! Don’t look at me with such a pitiful look,” She turned away, turning her attention to her desk to avoid looking at Columbina. She inhaled slowly, and released.
“I do not want to hear you singing or poking around my things. If you are that desperate for somewhere to avoid whatever, you can stay. For now.”
What was coming out of her mouth?! Offering her room, her private space. Her will bent too easily. In her peripherals she could see Columbina smile, her shoulders relaxing.
“Thank you, Sandrone.”
She should be irritated. Or angry. Why didn't she feel that way?
“Whatever. Just don’t make a habit of knocking on doors at this hour. You’re lucky I was in a good mood tonight.”
A lie.
Columbina hummed in acknowledgement. With grace she slid off the bed, stepping a bit closer into Sandrone’s space, expression now serene. Content. No trace of her anxiety from earlier in her posture. The implications of her finding security and comfort in Sandrone’s room of all places. It was better to let that train of thought end there.
“I’ll cherish this kindness,” Columbina leaned in, whispering like it was a secret.
Before she could retort, Columbina was already gliding to the other side of the bed. All Sandrone could do was watch as her coworker climbed up on the opposite side. Onto her bed. Lifting the covers.
“What are you doing?” Sandrone managed out, finally finding her voice.
“Well, it is late. We should sleep,” Columbina said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Of course.
“I— well. Thats—,” The words fumbled around in her mouth, her gears turning a little too quickly in her chest. What else did she expect from letting Columbina stay? Of course she wasn’t going to stand in the corner until the sun rose! Why was her mind so scrambled, not even thinking this through!
But.
The most puzzling part of it all was that she was okay with that. For reasons she didn’t understand, letting Columbina into her space didn’t feel uncomfortable. It felt alarmingly natural. Even with her bristles, Columbina still chose her door. Why did she choose her?
“You will not speak of this to anyone,” Sandrone growled, heat climbing up her neck. She didn’t need to hear it from Rosalyne that she was going soft.
“I won’t. Then you wouldn’t let me come back. I like your room,” Columbina mumbled sleepily, already beneath the blankets, oblivious to the reaction her words incited. The doll’s cheeks began to burn from such a simple statement.
“You won’t be coming back! Don’t get any ideas! Now, be quiet. I’m sleeping, and I don’t want you interrupting my rest,” Sandrone scolded, glaring at the goddess who was already the picture of comfort in her bed. Columbina giggled quietly behind her hand, all too amused by the dramatics. With a grumble, Sandrone climbed into the bed and laid down, finally. She clicked off the bedside lamp, and the room was plunged into darkness, inviting her to sleep.
“Goodnight, Sandrone.”
She could hear that smile in her voice. Sandrone only gave an annoyed grunt in reply, letting her head sink into the downy pillow.
Now there was only the sounds of Columbina’s even breathing, the soft clicks of her key turning, and the occasional rattling of the window from the Snezhnayan winds. Never did Sandrone think she would be having sleepovers with her coworkers, let alone someone in her bed! With the quiet, her mind now buzzed with the reality of the situation. The heat started climbing up her neck again, realizing the intimacy of it all. No! No! Not intimacy, just helping a coworker. So that she wouldn’t be even more annoying. It was obviously just taking preemptive action to reduce future issues. Not because she was worried, or feeling irritated at whoever was bothering Columbina.
Why was she even thinking about this so much?! Just sleep already!
“Sandrone.”
“W-What!”
“You are thinking quite loudly. Do you want me to sing?”
A growl rose in her throat, and she flipped to lay on her side facing Columbina glaring at her in the dark.
“Do you actively choose to ignore everything I say? Is it that your empty head thinks ‘be quiet’ means ‘please harass me and make sure I don’t sleep’?”
It was a mistake to turn and face Columbina. Her face was much closer than she expected, black and bright plum strands of hair fanned across her pillow, close enough to tickle Sandrone’s cheek. She looked so incredibly soft, with an amused smile tugging on her lips. If she reached out, would Columbina’s face feel as warm beneath her touch as her own? The gears inside her chest stuttered at the sight, and she closed her eyes before she ended up staring for too long, thinking about unnecessary things.
“I can hum instead,” Columbina offered.
“You know what, fine. Whatever. As long as you don't talk anymore,” Sandrone gave up with a sigh.
A quiet melody began to fill the room. Not loud or distracting, but a gentle balm that eased the discord in her mind. The song pushed the tension slowly out, tugging her closer to unconsciousness as her body relaxed. How vexing it was that she had the power to do that. In the depths of her thoughts, no one would know that she wanted to hold on to this comfort and never let it go. A dangerous notion that faded as she was claimed by sleep.
Columbina woke first, stirring as she felt the sun climbing the horizon. It would be better to leave before Sandrone woke so she could get ready for the day with privacy. She also knew that the other would probably not want anyone to see her leaving her quarters. Sandrone always said she didn’t care about rumors and gossip about her, but she didn’t want to bring her any trouble.
There was an unexpected warmth around her waist, something pressing against her chest under her chin. How curious. Columbina carefully lifted her hand to feel an arm around her, and a wisp of hair tickled her lips. A lovely warmth bloomed in her chest, unfamiliar, but something she ached for. The two of them drifted closer as they slept, their bodies seeking the other. Heat felt through her gown where they intersected, the gentle breaths against her neck while the doll was captivated by dreams. Columbina had never experienced physical closeness like this. No one had ever come near enough, they only saw her as something other. As an idol to be revered, or a deity to be used. In her observations, she often saw the sharing of close touches between people. The smiles and joy it brought. Wonderfully human.
Sandrone always treated her like that. As if she was just a human. Not the other labels she had been assigned by strangers or those who claimed to be her devotees. She wanted to hold on to this moment just a little longer, but time called, and she had already been greedy enough. Such unexpected gravity the feeling of skinship had on her, with one who saw her just as she was. Moving slowly, she extracted herself from Sandrone’s grasp, eliciting a small noise of displeasure from the doll. Columbina smiled fondly. How cute. Before she climbed out, she hesitated for a brief moment, considering her coworker. How open and content she was as she slept. So unlike how she acted during waking hours. Columbina couldn’t help but laugh quietly to herself at the contrast.
Like a ghost, she slipped out of the bed, gliding across the room towards the door. Columbina grasped the handle, and turned back to watch the slow turn of the Marionette’s key. A strange affection for the one who wasn’t human, like her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, the smile still on her face. Perhaps, she would be able to steal another night like this in the future.