sootcest... stuff?! [MOSTLY SMUT]

p20- the midnight ghost walk

just a heads up- this is not the chapter that is taking decades. this is a different one.

also I know y'all are horny but this is not a smut I'm sorry my little grunks, my little penis gobblers

and another thing! this is the 20th chapter! yippee...?

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Phantom has never slept well as a nocturnal man. It has never felt right, and it still does not tonight, as he tosses and turns. He can feel the harsh cold air slipping through the window reminding him he's awake, and he reacts to that by sitting upright and closing it in a huff. It creaks loudly, making Phantom wince. He stays still for a few seconds, so cautious it's like he's hiding, while he listens out for any movement from the others. When he doesn't hear anything, he sighs, flopping against his bed, sinking into the wrinkled fabric of his pillow. This sucks, he doesn't want to be cooped up inside his room. The bedsheet lies crumpled at the end of the bed, without the window open he starts to get hot. But with the window open, it's freezing.

Peering through the curtain, Phantom feels a longing to be outside. Not just in the garden, but out in the forest. He's gone out there before, and the sound of that little stream makes his feel right at home. He remembers it so vividly, crystal clear. Stepping over the stones every time, walking the same route as he always did. Same with the feeling of the moss, and the smell of the little flowers nestling in amongst the most inconspicuous of crevices. That desire spreads across him like an itch, like an itch that needs to be satisfied. He'd be leaping out of bed if it weren't for the rules. No matter what, Phantombur is not to be out after everyone is asleep. It's unfair- so ridiculously unfair. Phantom remembers his own protests when it was put in place, he doesn't think he's ever been so pissed. The forest that lies just a little way away from their house is like a sanctuary- the view is fantastic and he's never seen anything like it. It's his spot, and when that curfew was set it felt like he'd just been slapped across the face. It didn't make sense and it hurt like hell. To have his midnight escape wrenched out of his grubby, ghostly little hands was never something he was expecting- and Phantom is not ashamed to admit he held a grudge against the rest of the house for a good while.

But he was indignant for good reason. The rest of the house, at that time, was tense- they knew what they had enforced wasn't ideal and there were times were they nearly broke, and Phantom wishes he pushed it a little further with his incessant blackmail. Because now, it's like the concrete that set the rule has dried- he had the chance to ruin it and now it's gone. They're adamant with what they want, and Phantom believes they're a bunch of dicks. Of course, their relationship has healed, but that rule and how much it put a strain on their relationship for those few weeks loiters like some kind of stain.

He kicks the sheets fully off his legs, because they're just getting annoying now. He doesn't need them anyway. It thumps against the floor, thrown away.
Phantom knows he can't stay like this any longer. He feels like he's boxed in, like this house is just a crate designed to contain him for the night. His boney tail swishes impatiently, as he gazed outside once more, parting the curtains with his finger. An inky black sky with a smattering of stars is revealed, with a moon peeking behind clouds that you can barely see. The night feels like the blanket he really needs right now. Not that old, thick one discarded at the foot of his bed.

That's it, he's made his mind up. He's getting out of this house. He swings his feet over the side of the bed, he's already sat up with his elbows resting on his knees. He's quick to get his things together- his scarf, his jumper, his boots, his everything. He rests a hand oh-so gently on the door handle, slowly pushing it down, letting the door open.

The living room is quiet, filled with a serene nothingness. The blankets are laid tidy on the couch, they haven't yet been crinkled and roughed up by Vilbur. This is perfect, but it can get better. He can hear the sound of snoring coming from someone's room, reminding him he's not alone, even if they're all asleep.