#c: l

How can they sleep as content as a babe? Aren't they feeling the same restless thing in their chest?

You shake their shoulder gently. Once more until their eyelids finally start to flutter open. Their green eyes are heavy with sleep. When they focus on you, their lips twitch into a sleepy smile.

"What is it?" They ask in a raspy voice, words slurred.

"Do you love me?" You fix them with your stare, ready to catch any lie.

They blink slowly, once, twice. Slowly, their hand raises to rub at their eyes. "Uh… yes, of course I do."

You nod, thoughtfully. This makes it clear. "You hate me then."

They sputter, staring at you with wide eyes. "What? Did you have a nightmare?" Rising on their elbow, they cup your face, eyes worried. "What got into you?"

You shrug, glancing away. Their sigh fans your face and their nose nuzzles into your cheek. "You're being silly. Nothing would make me hate you."

Those are big words. A big promise to make - do they know the future?

"Promise?"

A smile, their lips soft. "Promise."

The next time it goes the same way, until it reaches a point where they only give you a sleepy "Yes, I love you. No, I don't hate you, good night." Rune is sound asleep and maybe you should feel guilty about it, but the question bounces in your head. Your fingers aren't even long on their shoulder, their eyes snapping open. You give them a smile, one that feels more like a grimace. They glare at you, turning over to stare at the ceiling, one hand running down their face. "Is something on fire?" They ask in a husky voice, slow. You huff. "Well, good morning to you, too." "Is it or not?" "No..." "Is someone dying?" "No... as far as I'm aware." "Then why did you wake me?" They turn back to you, eyes wide awake, face twisted in irritation. You grip your shirt, squinting your eyes at them. Should you even continue? "Do you love me? Or maybe you hate me," you add belatedly. Their shoulders heave with the weight of their sigh as they rise to sit on the edge of the bed. "No, I don't hate you, but I certainly like you a bit less now." You grimace, glancing away. Spirits... They return a few minutes later, holding a piece of paper and handing it to you. "Next time, read this instead of waking me up." Sliding back under the cover, they turn their back to you. The paper is thin, and you leaf through it, taking in their writing. Sometimes you have to squint and hold it this way and that way. Even Freya can write prettier than that. "No, I don't hate you." "Yes, I still love you." "Yes, I'll still love you if you were a worm (or any other animal)."

"Go back to sleep." And so on, along with small doodles at the margins. Is that Tyr? Or Eir? The door opens, and you perk up, eyes wide and leaning close. Fenrir closes the door and the words leave your lips. "You love me, right?" They freeze, staring at you. "...hello to you too." Yes, yes, a hello that late at night - they haven't answered. "Do you?" "Well, let's see," they tick off one finger for each word, "we are having coitus, rolling in the hay, mating -" You groan, rubbing your face. "Can you take it seriously?" They give an unkind smile. "I'm tired, and you hit me with this? Not even a hello, nooo." Throwing their hands in the air, they throw themself on the bed. You bounce once, twice before settling down. After a few minutes, they speak again. "If I hated you, what are you doing there, idiot? Sure, a lay might be fun, once, but that's all. After, why are you still around, unless...?" Fenrir lets the sentence hang, staring at you. "...you have bad taste?" You try and they laugh, shoving you. "Get out of there! I have great taste." The smile lost its sharpness, and their eyes are softer.

Sometimes you envy just how well the they sleep. Once their eyes are closed, the world is all but forgotten, deep in dreams. What are they even dreaming of?

Are they even aware of your thoughts? They're restless and only their voice will help.

You shake them so much that your arm starts to tire. Spirits, you need to bring a bucket of water, and the thought of them soaking wet nearly makes you laugh. The smile still on your lips, you shake your head. This won't do.

Taking a tuft of their hair, you tickle their nose, and their face curls into distaste, batting it away. Their eyelids flutter - this is your chance, leaning closer to their ear, you whisper. "My King, please..."

Eyes snapping open, it takes them only a moment to focus on you. A sleepy, small smile blooms on their face and they reach out a hand to cup your jaw.

"Do you love me? Do you hate me?" You blurt it all out.

They blink, giving you a blank look before scoffing. "Do not demean both of us with this question." You think this is done, for they say nothing more as their fingers trail down across your jaw to tilt your chin. "I don't go for dull things, so for you to catch my attention," they trail off, capturing your lips in a slow kiss.

You found it pretty and round. It isn’t green, but it does remind you of L’s eyes; you hardly saw such a round rock. And what’s better than to show off?

When you find L, you pounce on them, wrapping your arms around their neck and showing the rock in their face. They yelp, struggling to stay upright and for a moment, you fear you will tumble to the ground along your rock.

“Get off!” They chide, but how can it sound threatening when they’re struggling not to laugh?

“I will,” you murmur close to their ear just to watch them flush. “After you see this!” Waving your hand, you redirect their attention to your precious stone. “This is you.”

“I’m… a rock?” Their tone is disbelieving and you chuckle.

“Yes, you’re my rock, my one certainty.” Your arms slide around their waist, pressing yourself further on their back.

“Oh…” They say in that voice, the one where you could tell them the sky is purple and they would believe you without a second thought.

There is a rock you found, with an interesting shape and a pleasing weight in your hand. When you went to show it to Rune, they looked at you as if you started dancing out of nowhere, barely sparing the rock a glance.

“What am I supposed to do with a rock?” They ask, raising a slender eyebrow. But they wait for no answer, already returning to their concoction. It smells foul to you, but they don’t seem to mind it. “Put it on the table,” accompanying the dismissive words is a shake of their head.

You shrug, throwing it in the air and catching it. “You could add it to your necklace?” Drawing closer, you reach to touch the nape of their neck, slipping your finger under the thin leather thread and raising it.

Their back straightens and they turn to give the stone a thoughtful look, fiddling with their necklace. Turning each bead and tiny skull with their fingers, their gaze slides to you. “Hm. Very well. I will make a hole and you can paint the rock after.”

You cock your head. “Paint?”

“Yes. It comes from you, does it not? It should not remain an ordinary rock then.” They smile, brushing their finger against the apple of your cheek.

You had an inkling of Fenrir’s reaction, but the reality is far more amusing than your thoughts. They caught it as soon as you threw your rock at them, because of course they do.

“What is this?” They ask, then immediately open their palm. Taking one look at it, they turn to stare at you. “What. Are you so lazy that you can’t throw your own trash?”

“Trash?” You gasp, outraged. “And what I told you that I picked it with my whole heart?”

Another stare, sneering. “I’d say you have shitty taste. It’s a damn rock.” Still, they play with it, throwing it in the air from a hand to the other.

A smile on your lips, you approach, fingers grapping the edges of their shirt as you draw them closer. You could say ‘It reminded me of you’ but you can already hear the answer. They raise an eyebrow, gaze lingering on your hands as they crowd closer.

“Can you keep it?” Drawing them even closer by tugging the end of their ponytail, you lean to murmur against their lips before they can refuse. “Because it is from me, asshole.”

They huff against your lips, and you think they mouth a ‘fine’, but you’re too distracted by the heat of their mouth and the weight of their wandering hand down your back.

They examine the rock you brought them. Pinched between their thumb and forefinger, they look at it as if it personally insulted them, nose wrinkled and lips pressed into a thin line. “This is all.” They say and you can feel their gaze sliding toward you.

You give the King a smile, puffing your chest.

Their gaze stays on you a bit longer, the same look of faint offense still clinging to their face, before it is replaced by a smile. “Oh my, are you so smitten with me that you see me in all insignificant things?”

You let the insult roll of your back, keeping the smile on your face. With a sincerity born from the deep of your heart, you simply say ‘yes’ just to watch their smile slip off their face a second time. It takes it a moment to slide back into place as they stalk closer, arms enclosing around your waist.

They draw you closer, dropping their face to your cheek to nuzzle it with their nose. “Such devotion… Tell me, how should I reward it? Jewelry, precious sto –“

“I want a rock.” You reply with a grin, eyes squinted in amusement as their smile becomes frozen.

“A rock.”