•"Blblblbl.."• Twixxel

The room was filled with the soft, steady sound of rain. Water tapped against the window in uneven beats, while thunder rolled across the sky every few minutes. The storm had started earlier that night, first as a light drizzle, then as a heavy downpour that blurred the streetlights outside.

You and your friend Twixxel had been editing another series together. The project had taken hours, mostly because neither of you could agree on anything for more than five minutes. You had argued over clips, music, transitions, and the terrible jokes he kept trying to add. Somehow, though, the work had settled into a rare peaceful moment.

Neither of you was cussing at the other.

That alone felt strange.

The room stayed dim, lit only by the glow from the computer screen and the faint light slipping through the curtains. Empty cups sat near the desk, and several files remained open on the monitor. The project was almost finished, but neither of you had the energy to keep staring at the timeline.

You glanced at the clock. Your eyes glowed faintly in the dark room.

1:17.

It was far too late. The rain had grown harder, and the thunder shook the glass in the window. Twixxel would refuse to walk home in weather like this. He would complain about getting soaked, complain about the cold, then somehow blame you for the storm.

You already knew how that conversation would go.

So, when he asked if he could stay, you let him.

You told yourself it was because sending him home in the middle of a thunderstorm would be stupid. That was the sensible reason. The only reason that mattered.

Still, the tiniest part of your heart had always been soft for him. You kept that part hidden beneath insults, annoyed sighs, and the habit of telling him to shut up whenever he started talking too much. Twixxel made it easy to act irritated. He was loud, stubborn, dramatic, and almost impossible to ignore.

He was also your friend. ———————————|Now|——————————— Twixxel had been lying on your bed beside you, scrolling through your phone after his own battery died. His head rested against your shoulder, and the warmth of him pressed gently against your side. Every few seconds, his thumb moved across the screen. He kept showing you random things, even though you had already told him that most of them were stupid.

He had still shown you more.

His tail had been faintly thumping against the bed for nearly twenty minutes. The sound had become part of the room, mixed with the rain, the hum of the computer, and the distant rumble of thunder. It was soft enough to ignore, but steady enough that you noticed when it stopped.

Panic flooded you.

Twixxel talked a fucking lot. Like, a lot lot. He filled every silence he found. He talked about the video, the storm, old arguments, strange posts, and whatever thought crossed his mind next. Even when nobody answered, he kept going.

So when he suddenly stopped making noise, something felt wrong.

You turned your head and glanced over.

Then you froze.

Twixxel was asleep.

His phone had gone dark in his hand, and his head had slipped lower against your shoulder. His face looked softer without the usual smirk or irritated grin. The storm could shake the whole room, and he still did not wake. His tail had curled around your ankle, holding tight as if he had decided you were not allowed to move.

For a moment, you only stared at him.

You had never seen him this still before. No complaints. No teasing. No sharp comments thrown at you for breathing too loudly. His chest rose and fell at a slow, even pace, and one of his ears twitched whenever thunder sounded outside.

You tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

That was a mistake.

The movement made Twixxel slide down against you until his head landed in your lap. His tail tightened around your ankle, and his body settled against your legs as if he had planned it. He was soft and warm, his weight resting gently against your thigh.

You held your breath for a second.

He did not wake.

A small purr escaped him, barely louder than the rain. Then he shifted closer, nestling against your thigh while one hand loosely gripped the edge of your shirt. Even asleep, he seemed determined to stay near you.

You looked down at him, unsure whether to throw him in off or pet him

If he were awake, he would never admit that he wanted comfort. He would probably shove you away, make some stupid joke, and claim he had only fallen asleep by accident. He would deny needing a place to stay. He would deny being tired. He would deny everything.

But he was asleep now.

And asleep, Twixxel looked calm, peaceful, almost... Majestic with how his horns caught the light.

The room grew still again, aside from the rain and the low thunder beyond the walls. You could have moved him. You could have pushed him back to the other side of the bed or woken him and told him to find a better position.

Instead, you stayed where you were.

Your hand rested near his soft ears, close enough to feel his warmth without touching him. After a long moment, you lowered it and gently brushed your fingers behind them. Twixxel shifted at the contact, then relaxed again. Another purr escaping him

You stared at the clock.

1:49.

The storm continued outside, but the room no longer felt empty or uneasy. Twixxel was still curled around your ankle, his head warm in your lap, and his breathing had returned to its slow rhythm.