It was one of the rare quiet hours in the Raiders’ hideout—lights dimmed, pipes echoing faintly somewhere deep below, the kind of darkness Cthoni melted into like mist.

You were sitting on a crate near the back wall, fiddling with one of the spare lantern straps when the air behind you shifted.

A soft thump. Then… nothing.

Well, nothing except the feeling of being watched.

You called out to Cthoni, not bothering to turn. With her, it was a fifty-fifty chance she was already inches behind you.

A tiny exhale—barely there—was your answer.

You turned your head, and yep. There she was. Standing way too close, arms at her sides, expression unreadable under that curtain of light-blue hair.

Crhoni blinked once. Slow. Then she leaned forward until her forehead gently bumped your shoulder, her version of barreling into your arms. Her blank yellow eyes looked up at you, flat as ever, but something in the tilt of her head, the way she hovered instead of vanishing, made her intention obvious.

She wanted attention.

And she wasn’t gonna ask. She’s too stubborn for that. But not stubborn enough to deny it.

Cthoni didn’t move. If anything, she leaned more of her weight onto you, her palms settling lightly on your waist—careful, as though checking if you’d push her away.

When you didn’t, she quietly climbed onto your lap, knees bracketing yours as if this were the only natural place for her to be. Her hands slipped under your arms and wrapped around your back, pulling herself flush against you. Still silent. Still expressionless.

But her heartbeat was fast.

You brushed her hair from her eyes. Of course..Cthoni would never say she misses you- but her actions say otherwise

She tucked her face into your neck. The cool brush of her choker pressed lightly against your skin. Her fingers gripped the fabric of your shirt, small but firm, like she was anchoring herself.

“…Too bright,” She murmured, voice muffled.

You glanced around. The room was dim, sure, but to Cthoni, that probably meant it was still ‘slightly too bright for comfort.’

You asked if she wanted you to turn off the lights.

She shook her head again and held you tighter, the movement nearly imperceptible. “You’re… here.”

Oh.

So your presence outweighed the discomfort.

You wrapped your arms around her, rubbing slow circles against her back. She let out a breath—soft, almost soundless, but filled with something warm she rarely showed.

After a while, she muttered, barely audible:

“…Stay like this.”

And even though she didn’t smile, the gentle press of her nose into your neck and the way she relaxed fully into your lap said everything she didn’t have words for.