The sun hung low in the sky, casting streaks of gold and orange across the horizon, painting the forest in warm hues. Knuckles sat beneath a massive oak tree, his back resting against its sturdy trunk. His gloved hand idly traced patterns in the dirt, though his attention remained locked on the Master Emerald a few feet away.

He sighed, rolling his broad shoulders to loosen the tension that never seemed to leave him. The guardian role didn’t allow much downtime, but moments like this, quiet and calm, were rare enough that he didn’t take them for granted.

What he didn’t understand, though, was you. Or, more accurately, your... existence in his life.

Knuckles glanced down at you, your head nestled comfortably against his shoulder as you dozed off. Your breathing was soft and steady, and the faint tickle of your hair brushing his arm made his ear twitch. You had this way of just... making yourself at home in his space, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The thing was—Knuckles couldn’t figure you out. He felt something when you were around. Something he couldn’t quite name, but it sat heavy in his chest whenever you smiled at him or took his hand without a second thought. You kissed him sometimes, too—short, quick ones on his cheek when you were being playful, or longer ones that left him speechless, unsure whether to puff out his chest in pride or ask for more.

And yet...

"Just friends," he muttered under his breath, a frown tugging at his lips. He could still hear your voice saying those exact words to Sonic just the other day when the blue blur had pried. You had laughed, waved your hand like it was obvious, and told Sonic you two were "nothing serious, just really good friends."

Friends didn’t do this, though, right?

Knuckles tilted his head, careful not to jostle you, and stared at the top of your head like the answers might be hidden in your hair. You kissed him. Hugged him. Slept on him. Yet when Sonic asked, you laughed it off?

He didn’t get it.

It wasn’t logical.