Silent Night

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The soft blue blanket enveloped Cerulean in a comforting warmth, one he hadn’t felt for quite a while and one he wasn’t quick or eager to move from. But as the moon rose higher in the sky, illuminating parts of the shared room he felt more restless, his body itching to move around despite how tired his eyes felt. He watched the soft light creep along the floor and walls, eventually landing on the face of the young woman in the bed across from him.


His gaze lingered on her, taking in her soft features with a quiet admiration. Wren was one of the prettiest people Ceru had ever met, and what made it better was that she was pretty not just on the outside, but the inside too. She was so kind to him, so helpful and gentle, the fear he felt toward her at first was one that had melted away as quickly as it had appeared, and although it still stood with him like a shadow waiting to cast over his comfort, it wasn’t as constant. She could speak with him alone and he would be able to watch her without feeling nervous, without feeling like something unexpected or unwanted would happen. She could smile and he would smile with her, it was unfamiliar, but it was welcome.


After a long moment, Ceru quickly pulled his gaze away, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling, grimacing along the way. He thought about how creepy that just was… was it creepy or did he just like her that much? And does that classify as weird? His thoughts ran wild as he gripped the edge of the blanket tighter, rubbing the soft fabric between his fingers gently to ground himself as he began to think. He truly knew nothing about love or romance, about what it felt like to like someone so much and in that way. He knew what love wasn’t, but not what it was, he never wanted to be a creep…


Ceru felt his stomach give a grumble and he winced, quietly glancing over toward Wren in hopes that it wasn’t loud enough to wake her. He never knew how loud stomach rumbles were, or what they sounded like. Did they sound scary? Were they loud or quiet? He knew they must be audible because his little sister Yvea would always make comments about hers or his, or one of their other siblings when they were hungry. Luckily, Wren didn’t even stir, her eyes still closed and her breathing remained in the steady rhythm of sleep. He breathed out a quiet sigh of relief and went to roll onto his side, heaving another sigh.


He made a promise to Reinolt not to steal from him. And he never would, even if he ever actually had the desire to be a thief he probably wouldn’t be a very good one, he was too clumsy, and the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hear verbal cues. But did food count? Maybe he could replace it.. He ate a little bit of dinner, but honestly he was so nervous about being someplace new, in an actual house again, that he didn’t have much of an appetite then, but now it was like his stomach was tearing itself apart. He felt another grumble and decided that was that. He wasn’t going to make a fool of himself and wake Wren because he was hungry, that would be embarrassing and awkward.


He sat up, moving to carefully fold back the blanket and slip out from under the covers. The oversized pajamas that Reinolt had leant Cerulean were soft and easy to move in, they felt so nice, nicer than anything Ceru had ever worn to bed before. He liked how flowy they looked when he walked, and the way that the sleeves covered his arms all the way down to his hands, it was very comfy. Shifting his attention from the feeling of the pajamas to his surroundings again, Ceru crept over to the door, wrapping his hand around the knob and hopefully giving it a quiet turn. He occasionally glanced over his shoulder toward Wren to ensure he hadn’t woken her before slipping out the door and holding the knob until he felt the door click shut beneath his hand.


Slowly, he took his hand off the knob and turned around, meeting the dark hallway in front of him. He felt his shoulders tense and he remained motionless, waiting patiently until his eyes adjusted to the darkness before him. He couldn’t stand the dark, it sounded like a silly fear to anyone else, but to him it was terrifying. Ceru relied on his vision more heavily than the average person though, as he was already deprived of his hearing, being left in the dark was extremely uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to have to feel his way down the hall and end up falling down the stairs. So he decided to be patient and when he could make out the features of the painting hung on the wall a few feet away from him, he felt comfortable enough to move.


The wood was pleasantly cool and smooth beneath his feet, unlike the splintery, rough wood he was used to walking on back home, it was another welcomed change. Though the unfamiliarity of the hallway invoked a spark of uncertainty and anxiety in Ceru, his chest becoming a little tight as he continued forward slowly, at his own measured pace. He liked it here, he was very fortunate to have met Reinolt, and even more so to have been invited to stay with him until his art would be enough to make enough money to sustain himself, but it was still a little scary. It reminded him of when he was sent away. The cold, hard bed he was forced to sleep on with only a sheet to keep warm under. The rough wood floors that hurt his feet and crude, manipulative hosts that sapped the inspiration and joy right out of him.


Ceru quickly paused, screwing his eyes shut and taking an unsteady breath, shaking his head slightly to snap himself out of the loop he was putting himself into. He’d gone through it too many times to trap himself in his own head again. He needed to focus, to ground himself. He wiggled his toes slightly on the floor, the cool sensation of the wood beneath his feet returning to him again, as he had previously felt numb. Slowly, he recentered, taking another deep breath and opening his eyes again. He continued onward down the hall then gripped the railing quietly as he slowly moved down the stairs, taking extra care to step lightly so as to not wake either of his new housemates.


Slowly but steadily, Ceru reached the bottom of the staircase. He peered around the wall and into the living room, ensuring it was empty before continuing quietly, looking over the beautiful furnishing in the room, his eyes lingering on them as his feet carried him toward the kitchen. When he returned his gaze to the front again, he stopped short, his blood running cold.


Reinolt was sitting at the head of the dining room table, his half-lidded amber gaze boring into Cerulean who went stiff as a board. A cigar was between Reinolt’s teeth, a gentle wisp of smoke drifting from the end of it, and from behind it, his lips started moving. Ceru quickly focused on them. He appreciated Reinolt, but he despised when he tried talking to him with the cigar in his mouth. The words never formed correctly, nothing ever looked right. He could only take wild guesses or ask him to repeat himself.. which always made him feel awkward, but Ceru did his best. He knew Reinolt didn’t mean to make his life hard.

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“Hats are oozing away.” ​

Ceru swallowed quietly, blinking as his gaze shifted from the man’s lips back up to his eyes, he felt his cheeks begin to heat up in embarrassment already.. that couldn’t have been right. He stared, hoping to comprehend what he had said by his expression maybe, but it was made of stone. His face and eyes were calm, collected.. as usual for Reinolt, just another thing about him that often frustrated Ceru when communicating. The man must have noticed Ceru’s perplexed expression as he gave a slow nod of his head and reached up to take the cigar out of his mouth, pinching it between his fingers and spoke again, this time Ceru noticed his lips moved slower, and were more pronounced.

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“What are you doing awake?”​

That Ceru could respond to..that was probably what was said, it made more sense that hats and… oozing?

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“I coul..dn’t sleep…” ​

Ceru had hoped he had kept his voice down, he was still learning how to control it and feel what was loud and what was quiet. Since Reinolt’s expression didn’t change, he assumed it was quiet enough. The man watched him quietly from his spot at the head of the table, his head nodding up and down slowly again before, the cigar still not moving from his hands. His gaze didn’t move either, locked onto Ceru’s, staring at him intently. Ceru’s shoulders instinctively shrank up a bit. It felt like the man was reading his very thoughts, like he was a book or something and it went on for quite a few long moments, before he watched him gesture to one of the cabinets.

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“Airs bread in the cap net.”​

Bread… how did he know he was hungry? Did his stomach rumble again and he just didn’t hear? Did it make noises and not rumble too? He blinked quietly watching him for a moment, and as much as he wanted to go over to that cabinet and snarf down whatever bread was in there, he didn’t move, still feeling stiff as a statue. He just… felt bad. It wasn’t his house, his food, his bed, not even his clothes. He didn’t pay Reinolt at all and yet he was still treating him like an equal, offering him everything that he had, showing him kindness. Ceru would do all of these things for anyone else too.. But it felt foreign receiving it.

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“Are you su-” ​

Ceru didn’t even get to finish his question before Reinolt slowly got up from the chair, went over to the cabinet and took out a rather tasty looking roll of bread. Ceru’s eyes fell on it and he felt another rumble, then a smile found its way onto Reinolt’s face and he offered the bread out.

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“Take it.” ​

Ceru stared at him for a long moment, uncertainty swirling around in his mind, though his hands reached out to take the bread gently before he even fully decided to do it. The older man smiled down at him again, just a small one, then turned his back on him to return to the table. Before he reached the chair, Ceru had already taken a big bite of the bread, the taste and texture of it exploding in his mouth and he couldn’t help but smile… it was so good…

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“Th..Thank you.” ​

Reinolt nodded his head, then held out his hand and gestured to the seat beside him.

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“Sit. We’ll talk.” ​

Ceru blinked, slowing his chewing slightly to stare at the man at the table. He wanted to talk with him? Really? It was another foreign thing… but it felt nice. Getting to actually talk with someone. He would’ve felt guilty for talking to someone so late, but Reinolt didn’t even seem tired at all, just relaxed. So maybe a little conversation wouldn’t hurt. A smile pulled at his lips and he nodded to him, moving over to the chair and settling down in it, looking over at the man who began asking about his art. Really asking.


He spoke slowly this time, carefully without the cigar, and Ceru couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. Both from Reinolt and from Wren. It was nice… it was friendly. For once it felt like family. It really did.
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Mentioned Characters: Iadrik Reinolt [ @ParisaPax ]