Chapter Text
“…Whatever, Looey,” Blot rolled his eyes. Yatta looked disappointed. “G-guys come on, seriously??” Looey hollered, sighing in defeat as they walked away. He grumbled, kicking a stray pebble from a kid’s bag across the floor. Tears threatened to fall. “No, nonono not now, please not now…” they thought to themself.
Then…
Gasp.
Huff. Huff. Huff.
He clenched the fabric of his shirt. Was that a dream…? They turned to the clock on the nightstand. It was past midnight. His throat felt dry. “I should get some water,” they mumbled, voice hoarse. As he walked through the quiet halls of Gardenview, lights flickered slightly, a low breeze blew near the gardens. Floorboards creaked under his weight due to low maintenance. As he neared the kitchen, he noticed the glow. Did Sprout or Cosmo forget to turn the lights off? That could be likely… they are both often busy with orders they forget basic tasks like that. Anyway, Looey stepped into the kitchen. He opened a cabinet as quietly as possible, grabbing a glass and padding over to the sink. He turned the tap on. As the glass filled with water, he swore he heard footsteps behind him. Subtle noises, faint, quiet, yet panicked.
When water went over the edge and over his fingers snapped him out of it… CLANK. A bowl hit the floor, clattering onto the tile with an ear-ringing noise. Both Toons jumped, yelped and froze when they saw each other.
Looey saw Sprout.
Sprout saw Looey.
“O-oh—I’m so sorry—!” Sprout panicked, rushing to pick up the bowl.
“I-it’s okay! I was just getting some water..!”
Silence. They stared at each other. “…R-right,” Sprout mumbled, shaking his head as he turned to put the bowl away. Looey was too caught up in his head that he tilted his glass too far and spilled water on the floor. That snapped him out of it. “Oh—shit—“
Sprout turned, saw the spilled water, and looked up at Looey. “It’s fine, I can clean it up,” but the clear delirium in his eyes said otherwise.
“It’s okay, I spilled it, I can clean it up—“
“No I got it—“
“But it’s my—“
“Looey. I got it.”
“…At least let me help..?”
“Here,” He handed him a towel from his apron. He had a lot of stuff in those pockets of his, like utensils and a small amount of cleaning supplies. They both leaned down the wipe up the spilled water, and in the nick of time, Looey looked away as he lowered, “I’ll clean the glass—“ And because he wasn’t looking, his hand landed right over Sprout’s. He immediately whipped his head around “Oh—sorry,” he whispered, though his cheeks felt a little warm after that.
Sprout wiped up the last of the water and stood up, his hands on his hips. Looey looked at him, holding the glass he was gonna wash. “…Sprout?”
“Yeah?”
“..A-are you doing alright..? You seem… tired.”
He stared at him with a blank expression. “…I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine—“
“I’m fine.” He seemed a little too persistent with his answer to be casual.
Looey debated pushing farther. “But—“
“Looey, I’m okay.”
He sighed in defeat, giving him a look that said ”Please talk to me.” But Sprout stubbornly averted his gaze, scrubbing the counter with exaggerated focus, avoiding Looey’s silent plea. Though he felt bad. Slowly, he stole a glance at Looey, then tapped the counter nervously before saying, “It’s just been a weird week, that’s all.”
“…Go on.”
Sprout hesitated, rubbing the dish towel between his fingers, searching for the right words before answering hesitantly, “Just been really busy with orders, i-it’s got me exhausted..”
Looey listened. He kept silent, his fingers scratching the countertop. Then, in the thin hush between them, the back door banged open, startling them both. Cosmo paused in the doorway, a stack of supply boxes in his hands, and stared at them both. Then, in perfect sync, both Sprout and Cosmo spoke, “I thought I told you to go to bed??”
“Uhhh…” They both immediately stutter. Sprout pinched the bridge of his nose, “Look, Cos, I have orders I need to prep for the morning, go to sleep. Please.”
“Dude, you won’t be able to finish those orders if you can’t wake up to be there for them,” he reminded him, putting down the boxes with a loud thump on the tile behind the counter. Sprout sighed, then mumbled, “Please don’t argue with me in front of Looey. I got this.” Cosmo glared at him, but left anyway. Sprout turned to Looey, “Sorry, Loo, he’s just like that.”
“…I-it’s fine.” Like routine, silence fell once again. “…How ‘bout you go to bed too? It’s super late,” Sprout whispered, wiping the counter. “But, I-I don’t wanna leave you by yoursel—“
“Looey.”
“…Okay.” He lingered in the doorway, hesitating, glancing back as if expecting Sprout to call him back. But Sprout turned away, jaw clenched, scrubbing at a stubborn spot until Looey finally left. Slowly, Sprout’s shoulders slumped as soon as the footsteps faded, his hands trembling just a little under the harsh kitchen light.
He was exhausted, overwhelmed, overworked.
Yet he pushed himself to get everything done, not letting anyone intervene. He turned to the doorway, hesitating.
“…Ugh, screw it.”
He dropped the rag and treaded down the halls. It was dark with little light, the halls quiet as a whisper. He approached Looey’s door. He hesitated again. Then knocked quietly. No response. He knocked again, “Looey..?” Silence. He debated turning the doorknob, yet found himself stepping into his room. But… no one was there. If Looey wasn’t here, then where was he? He turned around. He looked back as he walked until he bumped into someone, “Oh, sorry—“
Looey?
“…What were you doing in my room?” He asked softly, gently. Sprout, caught in the act, running on sugary soda and pure determination, panicked a little. “I-I was gonna check on you, but you weren’t there.”
“Oh. I was grabbing a water bottle before heading over.”
“O-oh.”
Looey stared at him, “…Sprout?”
“Mhm?”
“Go rest.”
“No—“
“Go rest.”
He grumbled, anxiously fidgeting with the fabric of his scarf. “…Please.”
“Looey, I can’t. I have to get these done by tomorrow.”
“Or what?”
“Or—“ He froze. What was the consequence? He had pushed himself so far, and for what?
“…I… I don’t know.”
“…”
“…I’ll be okay.”
“No you won’t. Look at yourself. You’re exhausted.”
“I can still do what I need to get done.”
Looey sighed in defeat, “…Whatever.”
Sprout bit his lip as he walked away. Shit.