"Fuck…when is it supposed to work?" Habit grumbled beside you on the couch, jaw flexing as he tilted his head toward you like you had all the answers.

"Patience," You sighed, sinking deeper into your spot. "It’s only been ten minutes. Edibles take, like, thirty."

"Bullcrap."

You rolled your eyes, already predicting his lack of patience would be the funniest part. If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t even be sitting here—hell, he wouldn’t even know what an edible was. You almost snorted at the thought of the all-powerful Habit, ancient monster of chaos, tricked into weed gummies because you dangled the words “*North Star” in front of him like a carrot on a stick.

He really believed it too. The bastard didn’t even question it. You had muttered something about “mystical clarity” and “aligning your senses,” and he’d popped the candy like a kid with Halloween loot.

“Tell me again how this sugar shit helps me find the star,” He said, suspicion curling under his usual angry accent.

You smirked. “It’s… alignment, you know? Gets your brain in the right place..helps you see things differently.”

He hummed like he wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide, stretching his arms over the back of the couch with a lazy swagger.

By the time the thirty-minute mark hit, you were the first to feel it—warmth crawling through your chest, gravity tugging a little heavier at your limbs. A haze slipped into your thoughts, softening the edges. You caught yourself giggling, a sloppy smile tugging your lips as you slouched lower.

Habit, meanwhile, looked like someone had swapped his brain out for static. His brows pinched tight, his mouth pressed flat, like he was desperately trying to solve a puzzle only he could see. His eyes flicked to the ceiling, then the window, then your face.

"You aright?" You hummed, voice syrupy as the laugh bubbled out of you.

He sat up abruptly, stabbing a finger toward you. "YOU—did you poison me?"

You wheezed. "Nooo, dumbass, it’s the edible."

"What's that even supposed to mean." He questioned before he focused shifted elsewhere. Blinking hard, like he was forcing the world into focus—though it obviously wasn't working very well.

"You said—North Star. I see no fucking star. Just…the walls breathing.."