Tonight, you had promised Kirara that you would spend the night with them. Kirara sprawls on your bed, your hand in one of theirs as they paint your nails, picking at your cuticles and adorning your fingertips with red polish and cleaning the excess off. “So,” they start quietly, their teeth tugging at the piercing on their lip. “What do we, like, do? I haven’t had a sleepover in ages.” They whine softly, looking up at you for an answer.