OC Stories

Sad 🥀

A/N: Object ocs

The television dimly lit up the room as it quietly played Chamomile's favorite movie, which was around halfway through finishing. She couldn't sleep, and neither could Cathy, and they could still hear the sounds of Cathy's sister and mother doing things outside the door even though it was almost midnight.

"When are they going to go to bed?" Chammy asks her best friend, shifting closer to her under the covers. Her head presses on the underside of her chin as she nuzzles into her chest. "They're keeping me up."

"They usually go to bed earlier than this, I don't know." Cathy answers honestly, giving Chamomile's petals a couple gentle strokes. "Want me to get up and go tell them to be quieter, so you can sleep?"

Chammy lays for a moment, contemplating, then shakes her head, hugging Cathy tighter. "Stay here." She whispers. "I don't want you to leave."

Chammy couldn't see her face, but she knew Cathy was giving her one of her worried looks. She did that a lot. It made her feel terrible.

Instead of telling her to stop, she just continued to hold her close, ignoring any sluggish, unwanted thoughts that came to her head. Tonight was supposed to be a nice sleepover for the two of them — she didn't want it to turn into another hour of concern and worry and comfort.

Chammy flinched when she felt Cathy's hand gently hold her cheek, making her look up to meet her eyes. She was right; Cathy was worried about her. Chamomile wanted to bury herself in the blankets and never come out again.

"Chamomile... are you thinking about her again?"

...

"No. I'm okay."

...

"No, you're not."

Chammy averts her eyes, feeling her next couple breaths shake as she takes them. "I don't want to talk about her tonight. Let it be, please."

In her peripheral vision, she can see Cathy glance away, too, looking uncertain and even more concerned than she was. She turns back, softly tapping her thumb on Chammy's cheek to get her to look back at her. "Are you sure?"

The look in her eyes made Chamomile want to scream.

"Yes, I'm sure." She managed to keep her voice from quivering. "Can we focus on watching my movie?"

Cathy sighs, then lets go of her cheek and adjusts her glasses, shifting to lay on her back with Chamomile beside her. "Okay. Just please tell me if you need my help tonight, okay?"

For a minute, Chammy didn't answer. She just laid there, staring at the screen, forcing the visuals and sounds and words from the movie to fill her head and push everything else out. Then, finally, she nods. "Okay, Cathy."