Bite Marks

Part 8: I feel fuzzy

Key for Fill-In's:
Y/n - Your name || H/c - Hair color || F/c - Favorite color || D/c - Drink of your choice || S/c - Snack of your choice || M/c - Meal of your choice || B/c - Breakfast of your choice (one that requires cooking at least)

2nd POV
You were lucky your hands were so... calloused, you guessed the word was.

Badger seemed to wince every time the sewing needle pierced your fingertip, even with how few times you did so, though he couldn't seem to stop staring.

You couldn't blame him, though, especially after what seemed like his first time having an actual meal.

(He practically gawked at the food you offered him, even though it was just a small serving of m/c. Stars, how you pitied him. Especially when he didn't seem to eat until you took a bite.)

The process was melodic; poke through the tiny fabric, untangle the string as you pulled it through, bring the needle through the loop just before you tightened it all the way, and rinse and repeat.

All the fabric shapes and pieces had been cut out beforehand, so all you had to do was match them like a puzzle.

If you weren't still aware you were actually trying to make something, you might've forgotten yourself in the process.

Badger sat near you on the couch cushion, dressed in the fresh tee shirt and sweats you provided for him. The sight gave you a sort of warm, prideful feeling at his focus, and reminded you of a happier time from long ago. Something you'd forgotten.

I wonder what memory is associated with that feeling.

You almost laughed.

Badger looked better than ever, in your opinion. Like he'd never been at that disgusting bitty ring. There weren't even any scars or injuries on him!

You contemplated asking him about the absence of scars, but you remembered back to the sight of that Boss and that Baby Blue, clothes torn and cracks across their bones.

It felt insensitive to ask something like that.

..poor things.

"You 'kay?"

You couldn't help but jump at the tiny voice, just barely pricking your finger as you instinctively whipped your head toward him.

He flinched back slightly— you were saddened by the sight of it —before gesturing at your hands.

"You kinda just.. stopped," he said, then reluctantly grumbled, "is.. something on your mind..?"

Should you tell him? About how bad you felt for leaving all those other bitties behind, even though you did all you could?

No.

He's only been here for just over a day's time— you've only known him for a day's time. He should relax a little.

You apologized, "I just spaced out for a second, that's all. No need to worry about it."

He didn't seem sure of your answer, but didn't push further, like you almost expected.

Stars above, why did you expect that??

***

It felt almost jarringly startling when you woke up the next morning, your annoying alarm clock just bordering on finally giving you a heart attack.

Like every morning— noon? —all of your pillows and blankets had been shoved to the side in your sleep, the cold winter air sending an unpleasant chill through your bones.