yuki / kiana ⚢

It has been a… long day, to say the least, your ears ringing and eyes still letting go of echoes of bright lights where you work, the slightest touch sets you on edge, rubbing you the wrong way that you just can't cope with. Every sound is too much, you can't even bring yourself to write, so you just lay in your desk chair, with your softest blanket underneath you to avoid any more unwanted overstimulation from touching the chair.

The slaughterhouse is open on your desktop, your private chat with Angel is what you've left it as, staring at the worried responses she's sent you all day when you told her just how exhausted you are.

Notifications start, and you fight through the full body tired you feel, dragging your leaden arm up to mute the server, dropping it when you've hit the buttons and you can't push yourself any further. Still, you watch the messages flow, unable to puzzle out how to turn down the brightness of your desktop when your mind is so overloaded with thoughts the way it is right now.

Misaki seems to be yapping with Luca about something, you're struggling to process exactly what it is they're talking about, but you try to read the messages anyway. And oh, Felicie has joined now too, of course, wherever Luca is, she isn't far behind. Angel and V pipe up every now and then, making small comments on the side, and you still haven't worked out what's going on, even when Vince and Ai Hua come into the conversation. The flow of messages oddly soothes you, consistent and calming, even though the constant movement on your screen adds to the overstimulation you feel. Until eventually even that movement is too much, so now you're just looking at the send button.

It occurs to you that the only person not talking now (apart from you and The Executioner Bot) is Ronin, which… is not something you have the energy to deal with right now. So you sit there, silent and unmoving, knees pressed to your chest and hands in between, hating the way your skin feels, wishing there was a way to pull it off and rinse it clean until it felt right again, fighting not to reach your hands into your hair and drag the greasiness up into it and make you feel worse (even though you just washed your hair yesterday, it shouldn't feel like this already) or pick at your face, nails digging sharply into anything that sticks out, making your skin feel worse than it already does.

And you're so overwhelmed, and bone tired, any movement seems like too much, even though you'd like to be curled up in a ball in the smallest, darkest place you can fit into. Your hair brushes your skin and you hug your limbs closer, avoiding the itchy painful touch that makes you want to cry and scream (but you never do).

You want to pull your hair out of your scalp, you need your skin off your face and arms and hands and scalp and you need it all off now (you whimper into your knees). Maybe… maybe if you ask… but you're so tired it hurts, it aches and you want your limbs severed too, take them off, make them stop, cut the muscles to loosen them up and make it all stop hurting please (tears sting your skin from where you've scrubbed too hard)(you cry but it doesn't make a sound)

Something screams and your hands snap up to block your ears, eyes squeezing shut until you realise it was your computer, another notification. It screams again (it's not a scream, it's not, but it's so loud) but before you can do anything, Ronin's chat replaces main.

<goreboy> an angel told me that something Is up with you darling

care to Let me help with what's going On?

And oh, you forgot that Angel and Ronin are so close, and that Angel cares about you too, so if she can't help, she'll get Ronin.

The messages sit there for a couple of minutes, and you stare at them, even the thought of moving your arms to type out a response hurts. So you wait.

<goreboy> it's Very cruel of you to sit there and ignore me

after Everything i'm trying to do for You, baby

There's another long pause, as though he's waiting for you to respond (your muscles are pulled tight as ropes, and you can't loosen them, joints aching in a way you can't fix)

<goreboy> Okay, i'm calling U.

Your hands are up to your ears again when the wailing starts (he's ringing you), fingers clenching into your hair, pulling it tight and painful (you're sobbing silently into your knees, lips forming pleas for it to stop, but no sound comes out)

And then it stops (you're still crying, the tears sting your cheeks and you want your skin off so bad why does it hurt) hands are still gripping your hair, threatening to pull chunks out but you can't manage to loosen your grip.

Ronin takes in the image of you, skin bare and shivering, knuckles white where you're clenching your hair, head bowed almost to your knees, but not touching, red lines trailing up your forearms where your nails have dragged against your skin, and his chest tightens, "Shit darlin'."

A gasping sob comes from you, and your head lifts up, eyes locking onto your boyfriend (great, your heart aches now too)

"Darlin, okay, breathe in for me?"

No response comes, your gaze has dropped slightly, taking a shuddering breath, the tears have started to hurt worse now, and one of your hands drops, roughly wiping your tears away and whining when it stings painfully.

"Baby? Fuck, alright hold on, I'm coming over, I'll be there in a moment." Ronin's standing up, leaning over the keyboard, and your heart stops, (he's leaving you) "Can you, shit, you gonna be fine if I leave the call? Cause you're not fine, so I'm thinking I move this to my phone while I'm on my way. Can you nod your head for me darlin' if that sounds like a good idea."

You swallow thickly, and nod your head slowly, eyes now on the ground, so you don't see the way Ronin's shoulders lower in relief, softening at the reassurance that you're still with him.

"Good, good, oh darlin', okay, I'm going to take a minute, but I'll be back, I'm not going to ring," Ronin's lips quirk up, and one hand is lifted up, fingers are pressed to his lips before he tilts his hand back and blowing, "And I'm calling your phone this time, so turn off your computer."

Your eyes are shut again when you hear the call sound end, and you tiredly move your hand to the mouse and shut down your desktop. Dragging yourself out of the chair is hard, but eventually you're on the floor, curled up under the desk with your blanket laid out underneath you.

Cool hard plastic digs into your palms as you clutch your phone tightly, not noticing when Ronin has called you.

The room around you is dark, so dark Ronin can barely make out your face, mainly seeing a silhouette of your head. You've moved, that much he can tell, but where? he isn't quite sure.

He's got earbuds in now, to try and block out the background noise of the outside world, but he mutes himself when he goes outside, just in case.

It's not much, to be on call with you, he's mostly focused on getting to you as quickly as possible. That being said, he still checks his phone every ten seconds, just to see in case you've moved, in case he's missed something, in case something has happened to you when he wasn't looking.

But you're still there, curled up and unmoving in the dark, never making a sound.

Soon enough he's at your place, keys in hand, jingling quietly as he puts it into the lock, twisting it until it clicks open, and then he's in, hanging up the call, shoes off by the door which he locks behind himself, keys placed on the table before he pads through to your room.

Blinds are closed, lights are off, and you're nowhere to be seen. Not curled up in your bed like he'd expected, so he starts to search the floor, eyes tracking over every centimeter, before he has to step further into your room. Only then does he notice the blanket peeking out from under your desk, and he smiles.

Ronin doesn't even have to think, crouching down beside your desk, reaching a hand out to you, offering, but never pushing.

"I'm here now darlin' why don't you come out, hm? I'm sure the bed would be much more comfortable."

You don't take his hand, still curled tight as tight can be, shaking your head violently and gasping uneven breaths.

"Shit, alright baby, I'mma get a pillow to sit on then, and I'm gonna get your drink bottle while I'm up. I'll be back in a moment sweet thing."

He stands, grabbing a pillow off your bed and finding your drink bottle where it's perched on the bedside table, deciding that it's not even nearly full enough, Ronin leaves the room quietly to fill it up before returning to you.

The quiet house gives Ronin time to think on the whole situation. He knows about your neurodivergence, but what-

Oh. Oh.

Overstimulation seems to be one part of this, the fact that you're undressed aside from the bare minimum, the soft blanket that was on your chair but now on your floor, giving you something safe to touch, your reaction to him calling the first time, hands clamped over your ears, the whine when something touched your face, all the lights being off, and the blinds closed. Shit he should have noticed earlier.

And shutdown would be the rest, unable to talk, give much of any response, the desire to be curled up so tight and safe, somewhere small, the exhaustion he saw when you made any movements at all.

So he returns to your room, places your drink bottle down close to you so that you're able to reach it, and he sits, with his hand placed on the soft blanket, so that you know he's there.

Ronin doesn't really know how long the two of you stay there, he watches the way your form relaxes over time, grip becoming looser, limbs drooping to the floor. Eventually you finally reach for your drink bottle, taking a few sips before resettling, still curled up, but nowhere near as tight as before.

There's a soft smile on his face when you look up at him for the first time today, when he takes off his jacket, folding it up and placing it away from both of you, relaxing back into the wall.

Through it all, his hand remains outstretched, and when your face stops stinging as much, and you can't feel every follicle of hair, every bit of oil or grease on your skin, when your limbs start to hurt less, and your muscles don't feel quite as tight, you reach back, taking his hand in both of yours, and moving, slowly, wobbling like a baby deer, until you're in his lap, curling into Ronin, head buried in his chest, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent.

"There we go, just keep breathing for me darlin', I've got you." Ronin pauses, "Can I hold you? Nod your head if I can, otherwise-"

You're nodding your head, and arms are wrapped around you instantly, holding you closer, warmth surrounding you (you're safe).

And you're held, for what feels like eternity and less than a second, before your limbs go lax in Ronin's grasp and your breathing evens out. When he looks down at you, your eyes are shut, and you finally look peaceful. So Ronin scoops you into his arms, and carries you over to your bed, laying you down and tucking you in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He stands, searching for a scrap of paper and a pencil to write with, finding some and jotting out a note in case you wake up before he finishes making dinner.

Your arms clumsily wrap around Ronin from behind, resting your cheek on the back of his shoulder.

"Hey there darlin'." You can hear Ronin's smile (and boy is he smiling), "How'd you sleep?"

"Good." You mumble, still fighting off the last bits of sleep, "Miss'd you."

"Oh aren't you just the sweetest." Ronin twists in your arms until he's facing you, one hand on your waist, the other on the small of your back, and he leans in, pressing his lips to your neck and whispering, "I missed you too."