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South Carolina wasn't known for having particularly harsh winters; the days became wetter and colder and generally more miserable, but snow wasn't entirely unheard of. Kevin looked out the window by his bed to see the first snowfall of the year. A fresh layer of powder, maybe 4 inches thick, had fallen from the sky and blanketed the city overnight. In West Virginia, when Kevin was allowed outside of the Nest, he loved when it snowed. The sight of soft white flurries calmed his mind, silencing any racing thoughts as his eyes tracked the dizzying dance of snowflakes as they floated to the ground. He still remembered the first time Jean experienced a real winter: Kevin had snuck them out onto the roof when Riko was away, and the Jean's face of disgust morphing first into confusion, then amazement, was a memory that always resurfaced this time of year. He could almost hear the sound of Jean's quiet laughs, picture the way the snowflakes caught on his lashes.
Kevin snapped a quick photo of the parking lot, populated with grand lumps of snow that used to be cars illuminated by the lampposts overhead, and sent it to Jean, who replied almost immedately.
FROM Jean Moreau: Why are you awake
FROM Jean Moreau: Do you have a coat?
Kevin replied with a thumbs up, and pocketed his phone. It was a quarter to four in the morning, and Fox Tower was quiet. Andrew and Neil slept peacefully in the bunk bed just over an arm's length away. They hadn't turned on the heating in Fox Tower just yet, meaning the dorms were cold enough to trigger an aching pain in his left hand.
The pain had woken him up, or rather, the nightmare that the pain had induced. He stared at the slumbering forms of his roommates dimly lit by both the streaks of light that peeked through the blinds and a small nighlight plugged in next to the door. Straining to listen over the sound of rushing blood in his ears, a remnant of his nightmares, Kevin timed his breaths to theirs. It managed to ground him somewhat, and he laid back down with a renewed sense of calm.
He rolled onto his side to fully face them, and moved his hand through a series of prescribed stretches he'd memorized by heart. Kevin debated taking a painkiller, but decided against it as the movement would definitely wake up Andrew.
"Your hand is bothering you," a low, gravelly voice spoke from the bottom bunk opposite Kevin. So much for trying not to wake him.
"Yes," Kevin said. There was no point in lying.
Kevin lay still as a stone as he watched Andrew's silhouette rise then shuffle quietly out of the room. Neil started to stir at the sound of the microwave humming. Kevin sighed. At least he had tried.
He swung his feet off the bed, jerking a bit in surprise at the touch of cold tile. He walked across the short distance between their beds and peered over the top bunk's railing at Neil. He was still asleep, for now, and had both his hands tucked securely under his pillow, the blanket rucked up between his legs. Neil looked so serene like this, and so young, too. It brought Kevin back to that fateful day, where they'd played together for the first time in Evermore's court.
Kevin had liked him immediately, feeling drawn towards the raw passion Neil exuded. Kevin was shier then, still reeling from the death of his mother. He had found comfort in Riko's shadow, back when Riko was a true brother to him, in the short years before the Moriyamas' pressure changed him irreversibly. Neil had walked up to them and stuck a tiny hand out, his smile missing a tooth. Kevin found himself smiling back. They were too young, too naive to notice how the intricate web they'd been born into was already drawn too tight to escape.
Andrew padded back into the room and thrust something into Kevin's grasp. It was warm, almost hot to the touch, and gave off a toasted, cozy scent. It was a heated pillow, just about the perfect length of Kevin's forearm, filled with rice. A handmade gift from Abby which Kevin had forgotten about until now. Where Andrew had dug it out from, Kevin didn't know. He idly wondered if Andrew could recall the location of the stress ball he'd misplaced last week.
"Thank you," he whispered, lowering his head to meet Andrew's gaze. His amber eyes glimmered in the dark.
Andrew dug out a small bottle of painkillers from his pocket and placed it on the small table between their beds.
"There. Now take your medicine and go to sleep."
Kevin nodded, and it seemed to appease Andrew, who settled back into his bed. Kevin was left standing awkwardly in the small space between their bunks. He bent down so that he could see Andrew's face again, then spoke.
"Can I?"
Andrew stared at him for a moment, eyes searching the expanse of Kevin's face silently, then nodded. Quickly, before Kevin could regret asking, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Andrew's forehead, though he ended up kissing mostly hair. Andrew let out a soft sigh and reached his hand up to protect the back of Kevin's head from hitting the bunk as stood back up.
"Thank you," Kevin said again into the darkness of the room, after washing down a pill with an almost frigid mouthful of water and burrowing under the covers. The heat that emanated from the pillow was a welcome relief against his hand, and he brought his knees up to wrap himself around it, like curling up around a miniature sun.
Andrew's voice was just as warm. "You're welcome. Now do me a favour and don't bother me again."
Neil—miraculously still asleep—shifted, making the bunk creak like old bones. It was cold outside, and tomorrow Kevin would have to find another solution to managing his hand in the winter weather, but tonight, in this quiet room shared by three boys who had mended each other piece by wretched piece, there was only warmth.