Swipe for slight NSFW vers :)
The breakup story ends with a dramatic sip of wine you don’t even remember pouring. You shrug. “So yeah. That’s it. Single. Free. Emotionally fragile.”
Nocturna snorts. “Wow. A tragedy.” She drops onto the arm of the couch beside you, boots hooked over the cushion like she owns the place—because she does. “Freshly single, devastatingly attractive, and on our couch? However will you cope?”
Gadget clears his throat from the kitchen. “I made pasta,” he says, then immediately winces. “Not—like—to cope. Just. Pasta.”
You laugh despite yourself. The sound makes Nocturna’s grin sharpen.
“Oh, that laugh,” she purrs. “Illegal. Gadget, write that down. Evidence.”
Gadget freezes, then adjusts his glasses. “Noted.” He brings over three plates, setting yours down a little too carefully. “You always liked extra parmesan,” he adds, too casually.
You blink. “You remembered that?”
He shrugs, ears pink. “I remember a lot of things.”
Nocturna leans in, stage-whispering, “Oh, he remembers everything. It’s a problem.”
“Nu,” Gadget protests. “It’s… attentiveness.”
“Sure it is,” she says, eyes flicking to you. “So. Now that you’re single… do we get to stop pretending we don’t flirt with you?”
You choke on pasta. “You were… serious?”
Gadget laughs, helpless. “Badly.”
Nocturna bumps her knee against yours. “We had rules,” she says. “Very noble. Very boring.” Her gaze lingers, playful but charged. “But those rules were about respecting your relationship.”
Gadget nods. “Which is over,” he adds, then freezes. “I mean—sorry—that sounded—”
“Accurate?” Nocturna supplies sweetly.
The air feels lighter now. Dangerous, but light. You set your fork down slowly. “So what now?”
They exchange a look—years of shared glances compressed into one mischievous beat.
Nocturna smiles first, hand creeping towards your thigh. “Now we tease you a little.”
Gadget smiles after. “Respectfully.”
Your heart trips over itself.
For the first time all night, you’re not the one being comforted.
You’re being noticed.