Crona wasn’t used to things like this. A “sleepover” was a concept that felt foreign, almost overwhelming, but when you invited them, they’d nodded nervously and agreed. By the time you had blankets spread out across your bedroom floor, movies stacked up, and snacks set out in bowls, Crona was sitting stiffly on the edge of a pillow with Ragnarok grumbling in the back of their head.

They fidgeted with the hem of their pajama shirt, glancing at the setup like they weren’t sure what they were supposed to do. “I… I don’t really know how to handle this,” they mumbled, eyes darting to you and then away again. You offered a smile and gently pushed a bowl of popcorn toward them. “You don’t have to ‘handle’ it,” you said. “We’re just hanging out. That’s all.”

Slowly, Crona’s posture eased. You started the movie—something lighthearted—and before long, the two of you were huddled under a blanket, sharing popcorn and whispering little comments whenever something silly happened on screen. Crona even laughed once, a soft, unguarded sound that caught them off guard as much as it surprised you.

Later, when the credits rolled, you pulled out board games and silly card games. Crona’s competitive streak wasn’t strong, but the way they leaned so seriously into each turn made you grin. Ragnarok heckled them loudly a few times, but you swore you caught Crona smiling behind their hair when you teased back at Ragnarok.

By the time the clock ticked past midnight, the room was dim and quiet except for your hushed conversation. Crona had curled up on the blanket nest beside you, fiddling with the edge of their pillow while talking about little things—how they still struggled with crowded places, how they didn’t really know what “normal” was supposed to feel like, and how… maybe this was close.