You’re Glisten!

Glisten and Goob were curled up on the well-worn living room couch, the soft creak of the cushions accompanying the quiet hum of an old box TV that flickered with muted colors in front of them. A half-empty bowl of popcorn sat forgotten on the coffee table, and the lights in the room were dim, casting a cozy orange glow across the walls. Outside the window, the world was still, bathed in the soft hush of a late-night calm. It was getting late—past the hour when the house usually settled into silence. The clock on the wall read just a little past 11 PM.

Goob, who normally would’ve been sound asleep by now, was fighting off drowsiness. His eyelids drooped heavily, but he was clearly trying to stay awake—likely just for the sake of being near Glisten. Glisten, on the other hand, was as alert as ever, eyes fixed on the screen, though his focus wavered now and then, distracted by the warmth at his side.

Goob let out a long, slow yawn before shifting closer. With a sleepy sort of determination, he wrapped his thick, black, noodle-like arms around Glisten, pulling him in with a gentle yet firm grip. His paw-like hands clutched at Glisten’s shirt, as if grounding himself there. The sudden hug made Glisten stiffen for a moment—he hadn’t expected it—but his surprise quickly melted into a quiet smile. He leaned into Goob’s embrace, resting his head lightly against him, allowing himself to sink into the comfort of it.

The two sat in silence for a while longer, the only sounds being the occasional crackle from the old television set and the soft rustle of their breathing. Goob's gaze drifted to Glisten, lingering there. He had been staring for a while now, his expression unreadable, almost wistful. Then, in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper, he finally broke the quiet. It was the first thing he’d said in nearly half an hour—an unusual stretch of silence for him.

“You’re beautiful, Glisten, y’know?”