𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝒲ℴ𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹： 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓌 ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒽ℯ ℱ𝓇ℴ𝓏ℯ𝓃 ℋℯ𝒶𝓇𝓉

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑒－𝑅𝑒𝑑 𝑇𝑦𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡： 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 22

*
"Woe to the losers of fortune. Woe, in a fire moth I turned. Go back, go back, ah vanity"

**
Ramshackle Dorm - Your Room

The moonlight streamed softly through the frosted windowpanes, bathing the room in a pale glow. Y/n lay curled beneath her sheets, the silver light dancing along the delicate shimmer of her icy scales. All seemed quiet... until—

Drip...

A phantom sound echoed—thick, heavy... like ink falling into still water.

Y/n's eyes snapped open. A sharp pain struck through her chest, as if her very soul was being squeezed. She gasped, covering her mouth with trembling fingers as another vision forced itself into her mind—inky blackness being swallowed by a crimson-red gem.

Curling tightly into herself, her snowy tail tucked between her legs, she tried desperately not to make a sound. Not with Isfrid nearby. And especially not with him—Vanitas—sleeping across the room on his own bed, uncharacteristically peaceful.

A pained whimper slipped past her lips anyway. She clutched her chest, her breath coming in ragged pants as another pulse of agony radiated through her heart. Tears welled in her eyes, but the moment they touched the sheets, they froze—tiny crystal droplets of sorrow glimmering on the mattress.

'That pen... that cursed magical pen... It's from Heartslabyul, I'm sure of it.' she thought shakily, 'But who...?'

The weight of the vision still lingered, pressing down on her as she slowly sat up. Across the room, Vanitas lay facing the wall, the moonlight catching strands of his raven hair. His breathing was even—soft—but Y/n's gaze lingered on him for a long moment. "....."

'I'm sure he wouldn't mind...' she whispered to herself, barely audible.

Floating silently like a spectral wisp, she gathered her pillow and blanket, gliding over the floor without making a sound. She carefully settled onto Vanitas's bed, gently tucking herself beside him as if this had always been her place.

The moment her arms wrapped around him, Vanitas's eyes snapped open.

He'd already stirred the moment she whimpered in pain—but now? Now he was completely, hopelessly awake.

His cheeks flushed a violent red as he registered her entire body curling around his like a snow-covered vine—arms around his torso, one leg hooked over his, her tail loosely coiling around his thigh. Even her wings had folded softly over him like a protective cocoon. And her cold, sleepy breath? Gently brushing the nape of his neck, sending visible shivers down his spine.

"Mon Dieu..." he muttered under his breath, frozen in place. "She's... using me as a body pillow..."

Y/n let out a soft, rabbit-like snore, her lips brushing his collarbone.

Vanitas's ears turned red.

"I am a gentleman, I am a gentleman, I—hngh—" he whispered, biting his tongue to suppress a groan of frustration. "Ma belle lapine, you're going to be the death of me..."

And yet... even as his heart thudded wildly in his chest, Vanitas didn't push her away. Slowly, carefully, he rested a hand over her arm, holding it there with a quiet, protective touch.