[This piece has recently been revised to reflect my current style. If you'd like more information on that, please consult my profile. Other than these revisions, the general tone and feel of the text that follows is still a time capsule from the glorious early 2010s. Thanks for understanding.]

Word Count: 986 words.

Frosty Fracas

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It wakes her late into the night, a little past midnight. She almost mistakes it for her imagination at first, the room utterly silent as she sits up with a tremendous case of bedhead. Just as she begins to believe her mind is playing tricks on her, it goes off again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She starts, her body tensing with fear. Embarrassing, but better to be embarrassed than crazy and imagining noises that aren't actually there. Serena breathes a sigh of relief, only to suck it back in the second she hears Calem shift around beside her.

The nurses don't ask questions. They gossip endlessly behind their backs, but they don't ask questions. Calem pays for the room (as he always does) and she puts up a front of restlessly acquiescing to it if only for the prospect of having somewhere to sleep for the night at no cost to herself (other than her sanity, perhaps).

There's nothing more to it than that. She certainly doesn't put up with it because she actually likes the way he clings to her all night like a Komala that can't take a hint. To say nothing of his incessant snoring, his tendency to hog the covers, his ice cold toes that can never keep to themselves, his big dopey grin and equally dopey face, and all the incoherent nonsense that dribbles out of his babbling mouth in the unfettered darkness of the night.

"Mm... 'Course I prefer waffles... over pancakes... what kind of degenerate... do you take me for...?"

Something like that.

Calem tosses and turns like a Lillipup, rolling himself into a burrito of stolen covers as he unconsciously weasels his way into the comfort of Serena's lap. A delightful little hum escapes him as his cheeks press against her plush and tender thighs, prompting her to wonder if he prefers them to the feeling of his face in her bosom.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The noise snaps her out of it before her mind can wander any further. Unfortunately, that's about the only thing it's good for, and the occasional reality check is hardly worth losing the eight hours of beauty sleep necessary to enjoy it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Serena frowns. It's clearly coming from the window but she's unable to make out whatever it might be from the bed. She considers investigating, but that would require planting her feet on hardwood flooring cold enough to put the Frost Cavern to shame. The thought alone is enough to make her toes curl beneath the sheets, but not enough to dissuade her from sending someone else in her place.

She shakes him.

"Mmrm..."

No dice. She tries again.

"Mrmmm..."

"Get up," she orders.

"Mmrrmmm..."

"Up," she adds. "Up, up, up. Rise and shine."

Calem complies, but not in the way she wants. "Still night..." he mumbles, his arms lazily snaking around her waist.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"No," she pries him off of her, much to his dismay. "Not until you check the window. Something's out there."

"Hm...?" Calem struggles to sit up, his eyes at last fluttering open. "What the... What time is it?"

"No time to explain," she boots him from the bed, a few stray locks of tousled hair in her face. "Go to the window and tell me if you see anything."

"Window?" he blinks awkwardly. "What, is there something out ther—?"

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Okay. I guess there is," Calem mumbles. "Can't you go? You're the one upset about it. You didn't have to wake me up to do it for you."

"Too lazy," she says, and upon his first step, also adds. "And too cold."

Calem bundles himself back up into a blanket burrito in record time. "Yeah, uh, no. You're good."

"W-what?" Serena stammers. "What do you mean no?!"

"You said it yourself," he tells her. "Too cold. Ergo, you're good. You can do it. Your loss."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap. T—

"Nope! That's it, I'm done!"

Serena tosses her covers aside, hops out of bed, and power walks to the window with the rage of a thousand ornery suns and then some. With her freezing fists clenched, she lifts the window open as high as it can go, embracing the bitter cold front slapping her face with a wicked, merciless grin—before completely unfurling.

"GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!" she pauses to catch her breath. "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET THE HELL OUT! GET OUT OF HERE! IF I SEE YOUR SNIVELING LITTLE FACE HERE AGAIN I'LL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF STAB IT ON A PIKE AND PLACE IT OUTSIDE THIS WINDOW SO ALL YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS'LL KNOW WHO NOT TO MESS WITH!"

If the abrupt force of the window opening doesn't send the Fletchling into shock, the rant sure does. Needless to say, the tapping stops and Serena closes the window with all the gracefulness of a Swanna, before hastily retreating to the bed at the speed of light.

"Uh..." Calem blinks. "Are you...?"

"I'm fine," she says. "Come here, I'm cold now."

"W-wha?" his eyes widen. "R-really?"

"Mm," she nods, her arms outstretched. "Hurry before I change my mind."

Calem hesitates, still dumbfounded, flabbergasted, still trying to make sense out of whatever just transpired with what little reasoning he can muster six hours before sunlight. It all goes out the window (just like the Fletchling) when her hands makes a seal around him, ice cool fingertips pressing against the heat of the back of his neck.

The pair fall asleep in each other's arms, and if a nurse or two stumbles upon them in the morning, they don't ask questions. They gossip endlessly behind their backs long after they check out, but they don't ask questions.