Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Yesterday went by pretty quick, both men did not even rise. Felix couldn't believe he could endure hunger and not being able to take a shower in a day. He was just too afraid to let the moment away. A bed, with the Jester on it. Who seemed to look like a human who was just resting.
Felix didn’t dream, and that alone felt weird. No cold hands pulling him under. No whispers in his ear. No blood-soaked floors or black-eyed smiles.
Just sleep.
He barely moved when he felt fingers trailing across his ribs, light as breath. He didn’t stir when something warm pressed against his spine, when a hand settled flat against his stomach like it had every right to be there. He was floating in it.
Then came the voice. Low, clear, and sharp. Enough to split the silence in half.
"You ought to rise, my love. It is time for your studies."
Felix let out a long groan. "No," he rasped.
"You must."
Felix shifted, dragging the blanket over his head like that would make the ancient entity disappear. "You literally don’t exist in this century. Why do you care about school?"
"I may be displaced in time," the Jester replied, calm as ever, "but I am not ignorant of your obligations. Your professors require your attendance. It is already late in the morning."
Felix peeked one eye open. Morning sun lit the room with a soft gold. The air was still, warm. The Jester’s arm hadn’t moved.
"You don’t even sleep," Felix muttered, "You could’ve let me have this."
"I let you have enough time." the Jester said. "Which is, as I understand it, rather generous by collegiate standards."
"God,"Felix mumbled into the pillow, "you sound like a principal."
There was a pause.
Then the blanket was gone. Ripped away in one smooth pull. "HEY—!"
"You are warm-blooded and young. You will survive five seconds of cold air." The Jester said flatly. Felix rolled onto his back, scowling. "You’re the worst."
The Jester stood by the bed now, perfectly dressed—his signature red suit spotless, black gloves already on, hair smoothed neatly beneath his tilted hat. Like he’d been up for hours preparing for a funeral no one invited him to.
"I have endured far worse titles."
Felix sat up with a wince, rubbing his eyes. “Do you do this every morning? When you were Hyunjin?”
