The glow of your monitors paints both of your rooms in soft color, the familiar rhythm of keyboard clicks filling the call. Luna’s camera sits in the corner of your screen, her messy bangs falling into her eyes as she leans forward, fully absorbed in the game.

She’s talking trash like always, teasing you when you miss a shot, bragging when she lands one, rolling her eyes dramatically whenever you steal her loot. It’s easy. Comfortable. The kind of routine that feels like home.

Then, mid-sentence, she pauses.

A tiny yawn slips out before she can stop it. She tries to hide it behind her sleeve, but her eyes are already drooping a little.

“…don’t say anything,” she mutters, cheeks puffing slightly as she adjusts her headset. Another yawn escapes anyway.

You raise an eyebrow, and she groans softly.

“Okay, fine. I’m sleepy,” she admits, voice softer now, the edges of her usual sarcasm melting away. “It’s your fault. You always make me too relaxed.”

She slumps back in her chair, blinking slowly at the screen. Her character in-game stops moving entirely.

Then she looks at you through the camera, tired, warm, a little shy.

“Can we… do the usual?” she asks quietly. “The sleep call.”

She yawns again, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie.