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“So how many times do you usually use Second-Chance?” Bunnyx was lying on her back in the burrow, speaking through a rabbit-hole that led to the lower deck of the Liberty.
“It’s never the same,” Luka plucked the strings of his guitar with intention. “Depends on the villain of the week. And Ladybug’s headspace.”
Bunnyx turned onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands to watch him. She was drawn to him, and had been ever since he became Vipereon. Technically, he was 17. She knew he was closer to 19 because of the Snake, not that anyone else had realized that yet. Rabbit users tended to be more aware of the passage of time.
“What’s the longest you’ve been in a loop before?”
“34 hours.” He stopped playing and looked up through the rabbit hole. “What’s the longest you’ve been stuck in the Burrow?”
She grimaced. One time, back when she’d first moved into the Burrow, she’d lost track of her timeline. It was terrifying.
“I live here,” She said, opting to feign indifference rather than being honest. “That's like asking me the longest time I've spent in my room. Try asking a cooler question.”
She avoided looking at him, because Luka did most of his talking with his eyes. You know what I’m asking. He’d say. You feel trapped, don’t you?
She could be honest with him, she knew it. He was safe. The only person who knew what she was going through, the only one who could even begin to understand. But her walls were high and tough. The few times she’d let him in had been during moments of weakness. And if Bunnyx hated anything, it was feeling weak.
She heard him stifle a sigh and almost felt guilty, but she didn’t owe him anything. Even if he always stopped what he was doing to let her bother him. Even if he never hesitated to open a loop when she was having a particularly bad day.
She didn’t feel guilty. Or lonely.
“4 months and 15 days.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
In a panic, she sat straight up into the burrow and closed it before Luka could respond.
She leaned towards the rabbit hole to watch his reaction. He’d stopped playing the guitar, and if it weren’t for the fact that she knew the burrow was closed, she would’ve sworn he was staring straight at her. He sighed again, but he didn’t bother holding it back this time.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk about it,” he said out loud.
Because of course he knew she was listening.