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As usual, Pyro couldn’t sleep.
The events of the arena were nothing short of haunting, seeing Drift, somebody usually so centered and bright completely give up and letting Cleo win was frightening. On some level, he was thankful that Apo hadn’t made it into the arena, though she had made it incredibly close. He didn’t know how to feel with her deceit in an attempt to claim a blessing, but on some level he felt bad she painted herself such a massive target in the process.
There was that mental turmoil, but physically, it wasn’t too great either. The little wings that had sprouted out of his back were itchy no matter what he did and made sleeping very bothersome. He was currently on his back, staring up at ceiling, or rather lack thereof, when he decided to shift onto his side in an attempt to alleviate pressure off of his wings. Pyro closed his eyes, but after what felt like enough time to sleep, it still didn’t work.
He turned onto his other side. Didn’t work. He still felt awake, even though he knew he needed as much rest as he could get.
With a huff he flipped onto his stomach, wincing as he felt something sharp poke him in the collar. He propped himself onto his elbows, still on his stomach, to inspect the source, it being Apo’s feather. Pyro had taken a liking to wearing it on a string above his armor during the day, an insignia of sorts to indicate his allegiance. He stroked it gently, feeling the soft texture of it, watching the way its iridescence shifted in the low light, purples and blues shining under the galaxies and stars and soft moonlight of this realm of the gods.
Apo had given him this feather as a symbol of allegiance to her, as well as all others who held it in their possession. She trusted him, trusted his will and his spirit to back her up whenever needed. He sat up onto his knees, looking out the window at the bridge in the near distance. All the other feather holders were there right now, hopefully sleeping.
Pyro spared a glance around his room, eyeing his armor, spear, and shield hung up against the wall.
No, that’s a stupid idea.
Despite how stupid the idea was, he felt himself rising from his bed and heading for the door, leaving the armor and gear behind. He was smart enough to avoid the beasts that lurked in the night, at least the undead kind.
Pyro walked across the dewy grass, the feeling cool against his bare feet. It was quiet.
Now Pyro realized the issue with sleeping, it was way too quiet. All he had was his thoughts and the bugs chirping around him, far less than the moving bodies, snoring, and loud breathing he was used too. He didn’t remember too much around his death, but he remembered how cramped the barracks were before it. Somehow, he missed it.
So that was why he was traipsing around without armor or weapons like an idiot, he missed the gross, overstimulating sleeping situation of right before he died. Great. Stellar, even. Athena chose him for godamn reason.
Now, despite how absolutely stupid this was, he was at the entrance to the bridge. He carefully stepped down the stairs, his wings flat against his back as he crept, staying close to the wall.
Once he reached the bottom, he spotted where his allies were. He padded quietly to the little structure built on the middle of the bridge, being careful and avoiding the center area of the bridge. Owen shouldn’t be awake, but he didn’t want to spook him and risk a pitfall and an embarrassingly unnecessary death.
The sleeping arrangements were just about as eclectic as his friends themselves, so much so that he couldn’t stifle a chuckle. Pearl, Sausage, and Owen all slept in actual beds, with Pearl’s off to the side and Sausage and Owen’s beds pushed together, though it was apparent they were two separate beds. Apo slept on the floor a few feet away, curled up into a ball on a pile of straw and wool, her wings wrapped around herself like a blanket. From this angle, she was turned away from Pyro, facing the foot of Sausage and Owen’s bed(s).
He felt himself smiling softly.
Nope. No way. This shit was so stupid.
This was so stupid. What if they woke up and saw him watching them sleep? What would they say? Gods, what would they do? Pyro’s supposed to be rational, he’s the champion of Athena for goddesses’s sake. He’s supposed to be smart, strong, stoic. Not whatever this is.
He took a deep, shuddering breath. No. Not tonight. This wasn’t happening.
Owen shifted, turning from his side to his back. Pyro’s breath stilled in his throat, eyes widening. He felt every part of his body still, his feathers puffing up on his back.
Owen let out a soft sigh, his breathing going back to how it was before, steady and unconscious. Thank Athena.
With another glance at Pearl in the corner, then Sausage, then Owen again, Pyro slowly sat down onto his knees on the stone floor, a few feet from where Apo lay. Slowly, he crawled on his hands and knees towards her makeshift nest, freezing up again once he reached the straw, the soft yet dry material crunching under the heels of his palms.
Suddenly, he felt somebody’s gaze on him. Fuck.
“Pyro?”
His eyes widened and darted up to the corner where Pearl lay, the woman now awake and sitting up. She rubbed her eyes, looking at him again.
“What are you doing here?” she asked softly, “And what are you doing up?”
Pyro opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. His mind raced, trying to think of a good excuse, or even a way to explain why he was actually doing this. He didn’t even know why he was doing this, how was he going to find a way to explain it to Pearl?
“Couldn’t sleep?”
He nodded.
“I understand,” Pearl sighed, “those two can barely sleep without being in contact with another person.” She gestured at Sausage and Owen with a nod of her head.
“Apo sleeps like the dead, literally nothing could wake her up. Trust me, I’ve tried. I won’t tell anybody if you wanna get a little cozy. Fine by me. I don’t care. I doubt she would. Just don’t get into my bed. I overheat way too easily.”
With that, Pearl laid back onto her side, tucking herself into the covers and turning away from Pyro.
“G’night Pyro!”
Pyro let out the breath he was holding, flopping onto his side and scooting until his back was pressed up to Apo.
“N-night Pearl…”
He shifted a little, adjusting his wings so that they aligned with Apo’s, though his wings were too small to drape on top of himself like hers. The feeling of her feathers against his tickled a little, but felt nice once he stopped moving.
This was it. This was what he needed. A moonlit conversation that no one would mention in the morning and a warm body right next to him. He could hear Sausage’s quiet snoring, feel the movement of Apo’s breathing from her back against his own, see the stars that glittered above.
Pyro felt his eyes drift shut, just as Apo began to stir.