R U [ I ] N E D

I'll See You in Your Nightmares

Braedyn couldn't quite decide who of the two seemed the more dejected to him: Phoena, whose thoughts were heavy enough to finish off a sinking ship, or the Prince, whose own mind was still warring with his embarrassment despite the undeniably melancholic and dismissive turnout of his little chat with Phoe. "You good, bro?" Braedyn asked, knowing well the answer, as Callan sprawled himself out next to Sachi on the bed.

"I'm spectacular," the shapeshifter huffed, "Thanks for checking in, but you could have saved us both the trouble."

Those words were pointed, a double meaning to them, and Brady glanced at the ground sheepishly twiddling his fingers together. "In my defense, I told you not to go in there yet..."

Daggers... precisely the term for the pointed gaze that Cal shot the telepath.

"Also in my defense, you ambushed her without a second thought, knowing that she wanted space—"

Callan sat up and arched a brow at him. "How is that in your defense?"

"My point is I'm just as likely to be able to control what you chose to do as I am to stop sticking my nose in everyone's business. Not likely. In the slightest." He shrugged, gaze shifting at the strained creak of the bathroom door— a unique sound of protest only doled out when the party responsible wanted to be as quiet as possible. The universe had no interest in subtly... or in preserving anyone's dignity, after all.

Phoena's blonde hair peeked out from inside, and her grimace was far less pleasant than she intended it to be. "Soleil isn't back yet?" she said simply as she stepped out into the bedroom, wearing the most lightweight gear she could. The rest likely still needed to dry out a bit after the rain.

"I thought you weren't a fan of our little ray of sunshine?" Brady teased, but Phoena's reply was one much too serious and somber to parry his lightheartedness.

"I think there's been enough stormy weather for one night." She glanced around the room at the others, Callan actively averting his gaze so their eyes never met. "This gloom is too much, even for me."

Brady couldn't help but agree. It was like the atmosphere in the room had dropped ten degrees since they reconvened. He might even argue that it was chillier in there with Callan and Phoena than it had been out in the rain, and poor Brady and Sachi... they were unavoidably caught up in the middle of it.

"We should rest. It's been a long day," Cal said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He readied himself to stand up, that was until Phoena narrowed her eyes at him with a light scowl on her lips. He stopped rigidly, his legs dangling, and asked the question that his growing exasperation had burning in his brain. "What?" He couldn't fathom what he could have possibly done now. There hasn't been a chance for him to offend her in the matter of minutes they'd been together, had there?

"What are you doing?"

He tilted his head at that. "I'm getting off the bed. What does it look like?"

"For me?" Brady cooed, clamping his hands adoringly over his chest. "I'm honored. You do love me! My prince." The dazzling smile that the telepath gave had Callan groaning, which effectively only made Brady grin even wider than before.

"Not ever, Brady." Cal shook his head. "There's only so much room, so I thought I should—"

"Should give it to me?" Phoena finished, but by her ferocious tone, it seemed she took insult at that.

"Well, not exactly that," the shifter started, only to be cut off by the fuming blonde yet again.

"I don't need your charity, Callan. And as I recall, you were more than happy to take the bed at the inn, why should it be any different now?"