Chapter Text
Chosen would be lying if he said he was happy. Chosen would be lying if he said he wasn't either.
His long, black hair floated like ink, lost and drifting in the sea. His body was light enough that he could stay afloat without much effort even with his clothes. Once in a while, he would roll over and blow bubbles into the water until he's uncomfortable enough that he needs to roll back and inhale some oxygen.
18.
That was the amount of websites he and Dark had destroyed. Some went viral, some were dismissed without thought. Not all of them websites they destroyed had inhabitants. If they did, most of them get revived once a human restarts the website anyway. Not big of a deal. Either way, it didn't matter. Destruction was inevitable.
Chosen liked being with Dark. He couldn't imagine being with anyone else. Not that he had the chance to meet anyone else anyway. And he was already happy with Dark. Dark is sweet, Chosen remembers how—after every adventure—Dark would always gift him something. A pebble, a flower, a piece of paper, even the cobblestone Dark let him have as a souvenir. All of them were kept in Chosen's little suitcase.
If it weren't for Dark, Chosen wouldn't know what freedom is. He wouldn't be able to travel in the Outernet and have all those amazing adventures. Most importantly, Chosen probably wouldn't have a friend. In Chosen's mind, people don't get friends often. They're a once in a lifetime occupance, and Chosen is sure to cherish it for the rest of his life.
Why would he want to drift away from Dark? Isn't his life already perfect? I mean, what kind of life would make him happier?
"Cho! What are you doing?"
Chosen tilted his head, causing half his head to get wet, finding Dark, who was standing at the edge of the cliff, wearing a white t-shirt, "What?"
Dark sighed, "I said, what are you doing?"
"Floating."
"That's not an activity."
"It is, I'm doing it right now."
He could see Dark rolling his eyes before cannonballing into the water. Chosen coughed as water entered his airway.
"...-mean to tell me you'd rather float than take a shower?"
Chosen didn't answer. He rolled on his back and blew bubbles into the water. Seeing this, Dark sighed and returned him into a proper position.
"Now you're completely drenched. Ugh, what do I do with you now?" He watched Chosen's dumb face. "You're terrifying in field but you're also an absolute airhead. Try to act less dumb around me, maybe?"
"I want to eat."
"You ate 5 plates earlier."
"I was summing up my breakfast and lunch!" Chosen protested, finally floating upright.
In a sudden movement, Dark forced Chosen's head underwater. The latter, taken by surprise, struggled violently, sputtering and gasping for air. Dark chuckled in amusement, keeping Chosen under there for a few more seconds until he was out of breath. Only then did Dark pull him out.
"If you're not gonna budge, then I guess I can join your float session," he laughed.
Chosen, still coughing, didn't object. If anything, he's happy. Dark didn't usually like getting himself wet.
That evening, somewhere outside of Stick City, two terrorists floated peacefully, following the flow of water, holding each other's hands to not drift apart.