"𝔻𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕨𝕒𝕪."

Nyctophilia

Living with the alternate spider was surprisingly less difficult than Mark had initially thought. Sure, he'd assumed that it wouldn't hurt him, given the ample time frame that it had to do so in, but for it to be confirmed was... Somewhat weird. He'd grown used to alternates invading his home and going straight for his throat, which he'd quickly shut down. But, for one to show so much humanity was odd.

At first, it'd made Mark uncomfortable, reading into every one of the alternate's movements in an attempt to determine which would be the one that finally showed its true colors. It was going to kill him, sooner or later, and he needed to be ready for that inevitable outcome. There was no reason to fraternize with the enemy, it'd only make its inevitable betrayal hurt all the more.

And then one year passed, and then half of another, with no signs of the creature he had as a roommate ever even attempting to lift a claw in his direction, no thinly veiled threats. And so, he started to relax. Truly relax. For some unexplainable reason, the alternate didn't want him dead. And Mark wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Still, it was odd to try and have an actual conversation with it. Every time he tried, he could picture seeing its shocked face in his bathroom, seeing it run quicker than he could catch up, and by fuck did he try to. His friend's murderer was so... Gentle. So careful with every move it made in his direction, like Mark would die if it chose the incorrect option.

Maybe it was worried about this shaky relationship they'd built falling apart at the first sign of hostility. He didn't doubt that if it did happen, that would be the case, so the alternate's fears were well founded.

The sudden noise of a door closing brought Mark out of his thoughts, turning to look at 3, who now wore a slightly sheepish expression.

"... Sorry. Didn't think I put so much strength behind that."

"It's... Alright."

It'd almost scared the shit out of him, but Mark wasn't about to tell it that, Instead, he stared at what the alternate had grasped in its hands, the DVD of Home Alone.

"Do you maybe want to... Y'know, watch it again? We can order pizza, too, and the doritos shouldn't be too difficult to get ready..."

It looked rather nervous as it spoke, expecting Mark to turn down its metaphorical olive branch. Because not only was it something they didn't do now, it was... The first movie 3 watched with him. It had sentimental value, and the alternate knew that he had probably picked up on that with how it couldn't stay still, feet tapping anxiously against the ground.

Mark took in his housemate's behavior, its jumpy frame, before it clicked. Huh. He didn't know ow that alternates could be sentimental. It was certainly an odd feeling, to know that the creature that murdered your best friend seemed to think of you in a high enough regard to remember the first movie you watched with it, to want to replicate that experience again, as much as it could.

Maybe it was a good idea. Cesar... Wasn't coming back. And this creature was the closest thing he had to companionship right now. After all, Cesar had the his best friend. His only friend. Hating the alternate wasn't going to bring his friend back, it was just going to isolate Mark further from the only thing showing him affection right now.

Fuck it.

"Sure. You get the cheese ready big guy, I'll order the pizza."

It was somewhat adorable how much those words made it light up, a bright, happy smile on its face. If Mark didn't know any better, it'd say that it was vibrating on the spot.

"Uh- Sure! Thank you!"

3 practically ran into the kitchen, almost stumbling over some loose pieces of the floorboard before it went out of Mark's sight. By the noise of cupboards opening and a bag rustling, he could certainly guess that the alternate was doing exactly as it'd been told, and was rather eager to do it, too.

Mark let his head fall into the soft fabric of the sofa cushion, grinning softly.

This wasn't all that bad.