Chapter Text
Whimsy wobbles on their legs, steps a little bit much to the left and hears a small flower crush beneath their platforms. They wince at the sound, but their focus is still more on balancing themselves while walking.
Basically re-learning how to walk after being dead for a year is not really fun.
Their other foot twists a little wrong, and Whimsy would never have a problem with that. They used to twist their feet a little while walking simply for the fun of it. But this time Whimsy tilts a little too much to the side. Too much for comfort. Yet, two big arms slowly catch under theirs, stabilizing them, and Max's voice comes through his gas mask, a little muffled yet the tiniest softer than usual, ,,Careful, Whimsy."
,,Thanks..." Whimsy hums quietly, feeling a little embarrassed at how they need help with something that used to come to them so easily. It's silly, how does one forget walking? It should come to them naturally even after death, and not be a wobbling toddler.
,,Don't think too much about it. You're doing fine." Max speaks up again as he guides Whimsy, slowly and gently, letting them do the walking while being the support. He opens the door away as Whimsy cowers into themselves a little bit; They weren't aware they wore their emotions this much on their face. But they don't say anything in return, just walking inside. The smell of home and familiarity hits their face and suddenly emotions are truly all over their face.
Whimsy quickly wipes the tears that welled up in their eyes; They never realized how important this place was to them before death. Looking around; The books in the shelves are still in place. Ael is laid on top of the black cat, amethyst shard clutched close to itself and the dog is laying on the opposite side of the room. Clearly both the cherry saplings and the orchid have been replaced as evident by the differences in leaves and flowers. And maybe only Whimsy notices that, but it adds liveliness to the place than if they stayed the same.
A proof this place has been lived in while they were gone.
The lanterns light up this place nicely, considering it's also almost midnight. And through their quiet shock, they still move to the ladder; They just... Really want to lay down right now. In the bed they didn't think they'd miss so much. Next to the bed of the one they-...
,,Catch me if I fall?" Whimsy asks as their shaking hands slowly grip the ladder. They asked once before, in the lab, a few minutes after they were freshly back. And even now, hours later, Max's response is still the same, ,,Of course."
And so Whimsy climbs, with Max right behind. On the second floor, everything was basically as Whimsy remembers. The cherry sampling up here has been replaced as well. Decorative banners are catching some dust that could be cleaned off, and the bookshelf here has been reorganized.
There is an abandoned red-green double bed by the window...
,,Wherever he is, it's not here. We can cover the beds later, don't pay attention to them." Max groans; Not at Whimsy's reaction, but to seeing them as well. Max is more bitter than anything. And Whimsy just does as Max suggests and looks away, attention now on his and Max's beds. Their eyes relax and they slowly step on the floor, wobbling across the room; The wooden tiles and the carpets. Max doesn't step away from being there in case once.
And soon, Whimsy is finally sat at the edge of their beds. Their fingers set on the wood and their feet finally relax from all that walking. Whimsy relaxes, everything feels peaceful. Until the soft doubt creeps in.
,,Thanks, Max... For helping me back here, but-... I can... I'll be fine by myself now if you have anything else to do..." And truth be told, Whimsy feels like they already took up enough of Max's time. They know Max likes working and tinkering with his stuff and that he's quite the busy person with all the talk of coworkers being on his ass. Whimsy will be fine by themselves, sure they might roll around in the beds and sit up, wondering what all has been missed and if anyone missed them, really. But Whimsy will be fine.
Max narrows his eyes. Slightly, unnoticably. And Whimsy doesn't notice how intently Max is staring, They're busy looking down at their feet. Their surroundings are quiet, the only notable thing being the leaves rustling in the wind outside. And yet, Whimsy's mind is so loud anyone could see.
,,Scoot over." Max huffs after a while, and giving Whimsy no time for questions, comes closer before sitting right next to them. Whimsy cowers into themselves a little bit, still taken by surprise that Max has decided to sit by them. Words are stuck in their throat, glancing at Max who is sitting with his arms crossed against his chest, their feet and the window they're now next to.
,,Uhm-... You don't have to-"
,,Stop thinking so damn loud." Max says. One would think he's scolding Whimsy, but Whimsy knows better. Max's voice is too-... Soft? Is that the word? Too soft for it to be a scolding.
,,Sorry..." Whimsy hums quietly. They'd be much shyer if anything similar was happening earlier in their life. Their core is still thumping against their chest.
Max slowly turns his head to look at Whimsy. His eyes go up and down their face, as if looking for what has changed in the year they spent in the void. Their eye is as kind as ever, lightly emitting glow they don't even know about; Just like the moon. The horizon in their eyes is slightly duller. Max usually doesn't, but he notices anyway.
And he notices the way the moonlight bounces off the freckles on their skin. He hasn't noticed before, but some of the freckles are shaped exactly like the stars hung in the night sky. He noticed them first under their eyes. He trailed them up on their forehead, horns, ears, and even their hands, though mostly covered by their gloves.
Without realizing how long he has been tracing those prominent starry freckles, Whimsy notices eventually how Max's eyes are staying on them. They won't admit their cheeks heat up from the attention, but they do. Ears twitch a little nervously and their antennas get closer to their face. It takes a longer while for Whimsy to speak up, lips trembling, ,,Max...? Are you-... Okay?"
Max just shakes his head, looking away with a quick motion. He contemplates saying nothing, pretending he wasn't just staring like a- Like a fool. But in a way that is also cruel to the already overthinking mind right next to him. ,,..Just noticed that some of your freckles are stars."
The silence between them is... Not comfortable, but not uncomfortable. It is stoic. Whimsy hears their core in their ears, the slow thumping sound so loud it might make them go deaf. And yet, they don't seem to mind, really. They forget to breathe momentarily before letting out a shaky exhale, trying to find something to set their eye on. Looking around the room in circles, their eye eventually sets on Max anyway. ,,Ah- Yeah... I don't think it's a huge deal they're just freckles-"
Their voice is quicker, nervous. No one ever noticed such a small detail about them; Well, that is a lie. Others noticed. But no one ever noticed in such a sensitive, dare they think intimate, moment. And as Whimsy babbles on, Max gets bold. His hand slowly sets on Whimsy's face, it's as if he's caressing them. He isn't. Whimsy knows that. Max knows that.
Or maybe they don't.
With slow movements, the guides their head back up to meet their eye before taking a closer look at the freckles again. Whimsy looks away a couple times, feeling awkward- No. That's not the right word. Flustered. Whimsy is flustered. ,,I think they're-... Uh. Neat. They look like constellations."
The silence turns comfortable. More than either of them admit. Whimsy freezes momentarily in shock before Max's hand leaves their cheek, and his pointer instead begins tracing the stars together; in different shapes, different lines across their face, making constellations. It almost looks like he's doing it absent mindlessly, tired out of his brain. Max knows exactly what he's doing.
And Whimsy thinks they should move away. That this isn't right and they are still holding Max up from important work. But Max stayed without being asked, and the lines he traces with his finger are slowly easing Whimsy's mind. Whimsy leans in without realizing as their breathing slowly calms down, mind going quiet. Not numb quiet. Peaceful quiet.
The kind of quiet they haven't known before, and damn them; It feels nice.
Max's hand slowly traces up, tracing constellations against their horns and even their antennas, which twitch in response to the gentle caress. Whimsy doesn't let others touch their horns, let alone antennas, but for Max they will make an exception.
It takes a moment longer before Max realizes what he's let himself do. Awkward with realization, he quickly pulls away, looking at the opposite side of the room. There's so much he could say- ,Sorry about that.' or ,Whatever, as you said, they're just freckles.', maybe ,Anyway, I should get going now.', even ,Forget that just happened.'
But nothing comes out of his mouth. Instead, he feels Whimsy shift closer as their legs touch, with their voice quiet, as if they were trying to pass their words off as the quiet rustling of the leaves, ,,It's... fine. I didn't... Mind it, really..."
Max hesitates, feeling Whimsy's hand on their shoulder. And Max gives in as he looks back, eyes settled on their hand. And after a moment, he takes it into his, looking at the stars beneath their glove, at their knuckles.
Whimsy cowers slightly, face red. It only colors further as Max takes off his gas mask, something he never does. Whimsy is a witness to something sacred.
And instead of tracing the stars together on Whimsy's hand, Max leans in and kisses the constellations instead.