Space Man

Exhaustion

Xisuma POV

I don't know what compelled me, but I checked the time before texting Keralis. Good night. I hope your trip around the server wasn’t too eventful... in a bad way, I mean. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, and then, without much thought, I added a little red heart emoji at the end.

It wasn’t something I’d normally do. Actually, it wasn’t something I’d ever done. But before I could second-guess myself, I hit send, staring at the message for a long moment as if I could will it back.

The crescent moon icon next to his name told me he was already offline, likely asleep. He wouldn’t see it until morning, so I could at least avoid the awkwardness of an immediate reply. Still, my helmet felt uncomfortably warm, and I couldn’t stop replaying the moment I hit send.

Why did I do that? I thought, leaning back in my chair and rubbing at the base of my antennae. They twitched involuntarily, betraying my nervousness. It wasn’t like Keralis would think much of it—he was always so warm, so open—but still. My chest felt oddly tight, a mix of embarrassment and something else I couldn’t quite place.

I sighed, trying to shake it off, and turned my attention back to the work I’d been doing before my thoughts had drifted to him. But no matter how much I tried, my focus kept slipping back to the message and the way that little heart stared back at me.

It’s nothing, I told myself firmly. It’s just Keralis. He’s probably not even going to mention it.

But even as I tried to reassure myself, the thought of him seeing it in the morning made my antennae twitch again. Why does this feel so different?

I ended up staying up all night, tackling work that had been piling up for far too long. It wasn’t intentional, but once I started, I couldn’t stop—not with how much there was to do. By the time the sun began to rise, I realized I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. But really, what was new?

My back ached from being hunched over my desk for hours on end, but I tried to ignore it and push through. Every so often, I’d force myself to get up, stretch my legs, and make a fresh cup of coffee. Even with the caffeine, though, the exhaustion lingered just under the surface, making my antennae twitch restlessly.

The lack of sleep made everything feel sharper, almost too much. The hum of the lights, the soft rustle of papers—it all felt louder, closer, as if the world had turned the volume up just to spite me. My antennae twitched relentlessly, picking up on every little thing, from the creak of my chair to the faint chirping of early morning birds outside.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment. I couldn’t keep running myself into the ground like this. But it’s fine, I told myself. Just a little longer, and I’ll finish what I need to do.

As much as I hated to admit it, I didn’t even know if I was pushing myself this hard for the work or as a distraction. My thoughts kept wandering back to the message I’d sent Keralis last night, to the little heart I’d added at the end. Why did I do that?

I shook my head and stood up, pacing around the room to shake off the lingering unease. Focus, Xisuma. You’ve got work to finish.

I ended up spending most of the day buried in my work, barely registering the passage of time. It wasn’t until I heard a soft, subtle knock at my door that I snapped out of the haze. The sound pulled me back to reality, and for a moment, I just blinked, disoriented by the interruption.

I rubbed my eyes and glanced over at my communicator, suddenly realizing just how many messages I’d missed. A wave of sheepishness washed over me—so many people had tried to reach out, and I hadn’t even noticed. I’ll deal with those later, I thought, my curiosity about the knock at the door taking precedence.