Ranboo sat in the kitchen, fidgeting impatiently as the light flickered. He was waiting for Tubbo to come home. Ranboo had already cooked, eaten dinner, and put Micheal to bed for the night.

Ranboo was getting worried. His gaze drifted to the untouched plate of pasta. "Come on, Tubbo, what the hell...?" He mumbled impatiently. He had texted Tubbo at least 50 times since he'd left around noon. Things like 'when are you coming home?' or 'Are you okay, tubs?'

He sighed. "Come on, man..." He mumbled to himself. He stood up from the wooden chair and went to the sink. He picked up a dirty plate and a sponge. Rinsing it off and pouring a bit of dish soap onto the glass dish. The flickering light finally came to a half as it went out...