In your dreams, kid

early to rise

If Aubrey stuck to her early jogging routine like she once stuck to Mari or Basil's insomnia didn't feel like lending itself any rest, there was a good chance they'd spot his widened eyes from the stairs and ask about a supposed morning. Kel, of course, would say no, but he'd take note of the thin hue of light draped over the sky, since that basically meant it was sunrise, which basically meant it was morning.

To him, at least.

Kel was intrinsically aware that "morning" meant going out and getting...something, but putting together mental to-do lists was hard on good days. Harder still with bony arms gingerly wrapped around him in a vain attempt to stop Kel's trembling, whispering scripted yet sincere sweet nothings. The hands on his back were embarrassingly welcome, yet so hesitant, only daring to brush over the cotton fabric, tickling rather than soothing. The effort, as always, was appreciated. Even his gentle rocking back and forth feels awkward, like Sunny never learned quite how to shift his weight right.

Like he was the one used to being held.

...Oh. Oh, boy.

He was probably about to cross some boundaries today. Maybe even upset Sunny. God, he hoped not. He could hear the signature pitter-patter of a wild Basil from the living room, the clang and clatter of nervous hands finally quieting. They didn't seem stable enough to handle two friends close to tears.

Still though. He always had questions (Hero used to gush over that. Called it a "learner mindset!" His teachers were less impressed). If he didn't get an answer today, he'll be restless all morning, and no one liked a restless Kel besides Kel (and Aubrey, when she was looking to pick a fight).

"Heh," Kel prayed his sleepy voice didn't make that sound forced. "Mari teach you all this?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Ah."

Something anxious and kinda pushy in the back of his head told him to add something about being totally fine now, no worries, man. Maybe some kinda vague, tongue-in-cheek "no homo" joke to make sure Sunny didn't read any farther into this blatant cuddling. You know, with "ENJOYING HIS WAY TOO MUCH FOR A STRAIGHT MAN" practically stamped in bold red ink on his massive forehead.

The impulsive dumbass with too much control in his head felt it appropriate (for some ungodly reason) to comment on how this was the perfect atmosphere for a first kiss. The nerve-wracking silence made shutting him up difficult, but Kel was always up for a challenge.

Still, his touch-starved ass was taking any distraction from that lingering dream he could get his slick hands on. He buried his nose further into the black shoulder strap instead. Sunny seemed satisfied with that answer, hummed in response. Hummed again, and again, and again, and...

Oh, Kel knew this song!

...Well, not by name, but he knew Mari and Sunny's songs when he heard it. Their duet, Mari called it. Close enough. Kel had a feeling Sunny would rather he not know the title. He seemed determined to keep it a sibling thing, something he could share with her beyond the grave. Kel could respect that.

Despite the raspy texture of grogginess and selective mutism, he carried each note with such loving precision. Like a musician who loved their job more than their well-being. Kel knew how dangerous dwelling over her memory in public was, (stupid overemotional bullshit, worrying anyone who caught him!), but, hey. It was late (well, it felt late), and the strongest image of her floating around in his head at the moment was too unnerving to really tinker with. So, using a faint memory of their impromptu duet during one of her picnics as reference, he scrunched up his face in thought and tried to picture the implications of that melodic texture.

Just the two of them, snuggled up in her fluffy sheets, shadows cascading over their silhouette (How did they always manage to look so mysterious?). Sunny's little fingers digging into her sides, like his lifeline could slip through his fingertips at a moment's notice (the irony is rude and disrespectful, as far as Kel is concerned). His ragged breaths and tightlipped whimpers settling into a steady unison part, intertwining with her voice as he slowly melts into her chest. The dispassionate rigor of their violin and piano playing could never compare to the sound of them mixed up in each other, communicating in a way only they understood. "It's okay. You're safe now. I'll protect you." without words to bog down the intimacy of its delivery.

The last time he crawled into bed with Hero, he chuckled and said something about Kel being a little too old to deal with nightmares like this, ruffling his hair before draping the covers over him and pecking his forehead. He probably wasn't being serious.

Kel stayed out of his room anyway.

Hey folks! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's a bit blander than the last, but I think it gets the point across. Plus, it has suntan, and I always consider that a win. Thanks for reading!