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Rouge the Bat stared at the backs of her friends’ heads as they sat relatively close on the couch everyone was huddled around, watching a movie. Her overly critical eye scrutinized every tiny movement they made, watching as they shifted closer as the night went on. And if it was one thing she knew about Shadow the Hedgehog… it was that that man was not cuddly with anybody.
It had only been a few months since he moved out of their shared apartment in favor of her fiancé, Knuckles, taking his place. Both of them had been flabbergasted when he offered to leave so they could take that next step before the wedding.
“It's one less thing to argue about,” Shadow had told them.
Which, to be fair, had been a very large talking point of theirs for a while after she’d been given the ring almost a year ago. Rouge didn't want to isolate herself on a dumb floating island. Knuckles didn't want to live in the same house as another man, let alone have that man be Shadow. Removing himself eased the tension and saved all three a headache. Easy peasy, problem solved.
What shocked the couple more was the fact that Amy Rose willingly volunteered to welcome him into her house. It wasn't that Shadow couldn't get a place of his own, but it seemed Amy felt bad that her brother figure was essentially forcing the decision on her best friend. Because, let’s all be honest here, Rouge was never going to give up the internet and a walk-in closet. Not even for the love of her life.
While Rouge thought it cute Amy was basically adopting the stray, she tried to have a one on one talk with her, just to see if she was making such a drastic decision under duress. She loved her work partner, but even she knew he could intimidate the socks off an adorable little kitten (or hedgehog in this case) if he put his mind to it. And Rouge was not one hundred percent sure that the guy hadn't at least given it a go once or twice in his lifetime. Just because it stared at him wrong or something.
Regardless, Amy reassured her nothing nefarious was going on, but her suspicion radar went haywire every time the team gathered at Amy's house for hang outs.
Tonight, that radar had the fur on the back of her neck standing on end as Shadow helped the woman set everything up. He placed plates and silverware when Amy was done cooking. He did the dishes when all of the team had their fill of food. He stayed and sat next to her, under a blanket, during a sappy romantic comedy movie.
Rouge wanted to smack Shadow upside the head to see if he'd gone mentally insane again.
There was no way he would do all of this on his own. Not unless they were…
Rouge sat up a bit straighter when the credits rolled and various teammates chatted about the plot of whatever it was that played. She hadn't cared to pay attention nor was it important anymore. No, her sights were dead set on one person alone, because she was going to get to the bottom of this mystery.
Even if it killed her. Knuckles would just have to understand.
⸝⸝ ⟡
“So, how long have you and Amy been dating?”
Shadow didn’t turn around at the question despite its absurdity or the audacity she exuded cornering him the second he attempted to retreat to his room while everyone bid Amy goodbye. It was only when he decided to sit on his bed that he faced her. His crimson irises bore into her lazily, as if he couldn't be bothered to focus on her presence. The absolute bored expression wasn't anything new; they had lived together for years, after all. It did still irritate the everliving fuck out of her, though.
“We aren't,” he said finally, simply.
“Bullshit. You two looked pretty cozy all night. In fact, you've looked cozy and comfortable since you've been living here!”
Shadow rolled his eyes. “Have you considered the fact that perhaps it's beneficial for me to get to know my roommate better?”
Rouge put her hands on her hips. “You ain't ever cuddle with me under a damn blanket, ya liar.”
“We weren't cuddling. You also hate touching me for more than exactly three minutes because my body temperature is abnormally high.”
“You also ain't ever help me set up and clean up for when it was our turn to host!”
“She asked me to do so. You also forbade me from touching anything because I can't cook and put everything away by yourself because you’re a control freak.”
Another counterpoint was on the tip of her tongue until she realized Shadow was actually right and that realistically, her last point would just make her look like she was grasping for straws. Maybe she was. Rouge still folded her arms and glared at him. “If you two aren't dating, why the sudden change? Don't give me that getting to know her shit, either. I know something is different, damn it. I know you.”
Shadow looked like he contemplated an answer to give her as he pretended to be preoccupied with his phone.
This told her he was preparing a lie that might be conceivable enough to throw her off his trail and give him enough time to find a way to build the web to surround it. She tapped her heeled foot against the ground the longer he took. Shadow then moved to his dresser and pulled out pajamas—a faded band tee and flannel pants—and shut himself inside the en suite bathroom. The lock clicking into place was his final answer.
Fuck off.
Rouge clicked her tongue and started taking a pin out of her perfectly styled hair, preparing to pick the lock, but another voice scared the living daylights out of her.
“Hey, Rouge! I didn’t know you were still here.”
The bat turned, coming face to face with the other half of her mystery equation. Amy beamed at her, still clad in her new signature red dress, upgraded to being strapless and complete with a flared skirt that swished with her every step. Rouge sniffled and returned her smile, a bit saccharine at the edges. She supposed if the introvert was clamming up, she'd try the extrovert who was friendly to a fault.
“Tried catching up with Shadow. Went about as well as I expected. Guess you haven't melted that icy exterior just yet,” Rouge said playfully.
“Probably not, I can't really tell!” Amy giggled. “Honestly, I forget he’s here half of the time. Nothing goes out of place and he’s either at work or in his room. I’m surprised Knuckles was so bothered to have him with you guys.”
“Aye, what can I say? Knuckie is territorial. I can’t really blame the big guy.”
“Yeah, living alone for all this time probably makes it an adjustment as is!”
The lull in the conversation allowed Rouge to sneak a glance back at the bathroom where she heard the shower running. Looping an arm around her best friend, she leaned in real close while guiding them towards the living room devoid of anyone but her fiancé. “You know… I might have a hint that could help you wiggle your way into that dark cave where Shadow’s heart could be…”
Recalling the first girl talk they had when the brooding hedgehog moved in, she gave her a basic rundown on what it was like living with him. She seemingly drank up the information to better navigate this overall weird arrangement. Rouge wasn’t sure what all was being put into practice, but there was one last thing she saved for a case such as this.
Amy’s ears perked up. “Why would I need to do that?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Surely you’d like a bit more than cuddle buddies on the couch during movie nights? Or did I happen to misread the situation?”
“Oh! I, uhm…”
Ha! I knew it, my radar is never wrong! “Come on, hun! It’s fine if you’re moving on from Sonic, there’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun if you don't want a relationship yet. First loves are a pain in the ass to shake.”
“It's… really not like that. Besides, I thought you said Shadow doesn’t do fun,” Amy snorted in a half-laugh.
“Yeah, well, there's a chance you could bribe him by doing this…”
⸝⸝ ⟡
Later that night, rain battered against the homely little cottage as a thunderstorm raged outside. Despite the late hour, Amy found herself unable to sleep. She was still buzzing with the energy that came with being around her friends, but also—
CRASH. BOOM.
Amy gasped and jumped.
A phobia that stuck with throughout her childhood, well into her adulthood; she hated the sound of thunder with a passion. Growing up fighting machines that made awful noises and haunted the occasional dream, it made sense, she supposed. Did it make nights like these any more tolerable? Absolutely not. That was why she was in the living room, wrapped in a blanket cocoon in front of a crackling fire since the power went out minutes ago.
One of the downsides to living in a cottage.
She had refused the upgrades Tails offered because she enjoyed the quieter, simpler life they got to live now that Eggman was behind bars for good. Sure, a generator would be plenty useful, especially when the seasons were on the cusp of transitioning from a cool autumn to a chilly winter. But, it was moments like these that she reveled in. Time to slow down and remember to be alive, without worrying one wrong move could mean her death.
CRASH. BOOM.
The only thing Amy truly had to worry about now was a tree falling into her house while she was frightened half to death.
A creaking sound in the otherwise complete silence startled her further, but the footsteps that followed made her release the breath she held. In almost no time, like he'd appeared from thin air, Shadow came into view clearly on his way to the kitchen.
“Power’s out,” Amy called to him softly.
“I’m fully aware,” he responded, not stopping to look at her. Shadow’s bare feet shuffled across the tile and somehow he managed to find his way to the pantry. “Jasmine or mint?” he asked from inside, rustling through bags of tea.
“Can you even see in there?” she asked instead of answering.
“Mint it is.”
She exhaled sharply through her nose. She should be used to it by now, but it still grinded her gears when he was short with her. Acting like he knew her inside and out just because he’s been staying with her for a while.
Amy pouted. She couldn't deny the statement with a straight face. He knew her a lot better than he let on…
Listening to the sound of Shadow prepping a kettle and seeing the yellow glow of his chaos energy heating said vessel of water, she took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. Another lightning strike flashed in the dark clouds outside the window and she braced herself for the follow up. When it came, she whimpered, involuntarily, as quietly as she could. Amy wondered how much longer the storm would last because she hoped to get some sleep sooner or later.
Minutes later, a cup of steaming hot tea was held in front of her face. Unaware of the fact that she’d zoned out, or possibly dozed off, she muttered, “Thank you…”
Shadow grunted. Then, he plopped down on the hardwood floor beside her unceremoniously, leaning against the coffee table behind them. He took a swig from his own cup—filled with the other option of jasmine tea if she had to guess from the smell—without blowing on it. He didn't even flinch.
“You’re gonna burn the roof of your mouth one of these days.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’ll heal by the time I blink. I’ll live.”
“It’ll still hurt, stupid.”
This time he didn’t respond. Shadow's next question came with his typical eyebrow raise. “How long are you planning to stay up? That storm is forecasted to last until the morning.”
Amy cursed in her head, but sighed out loud. “You never know, it may change and end sooner. I just hope the power comes back on before anything spoils.”
“As much as you cooked, I highly doubt there’s much else in there besides leftovers.”
“Whatever. The scraps that you left are barely worth being called leftovers! I should have made you your own three course meal.”
“It’d be appreciated. Don’t change the subject. You know why I’m asking.”
A sizzling heat burned just beneath the skin of her muzzle. Amy glared at him, lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh, so was this your way of buttering me up so I’d give you what you want?”
“I came to check on you. The tea was to make you feel better. It was merely an offer. If you can accuse me of ill intentions, you must feel better so I'll take my leave,” Shadow said, sipping from his cup again and standing.
“N-No, wait!”
He stared down at her, and though his face was passive, his eyes were shining with mischief. Shadow wasn't actually angry, she knew that. He just wanted to hear her outright ask. She wasn't going to, not yet because he was being a pain, but she would rectify the situation for the opportunity that was inevitable if he didn't leave.
It's likely been on the table since the storm began. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s knocked on his door specifically for such activities, but the thought made her blush grow brighter, so she stashed it away.
“I'm sorry, please stay?” she asked.
The question came out a bit more pitiful than she meant since she jumped and her voice cracked when thunder shook the house, but he did sit down again. Closer, this time. She could feel his blazing body heat through the blanket. She didn't tell him to move.
“Drink your tea,” Shadow ordered softly. “I won't do anything if you're jittery.”
“But it's still hot…”
“Well, you need something to calm your nerves.”
“Unlike you, I don’t have regenerative abilities and have to wait for it to cool down.”
Shadow scoffed. “You're such a whiny baby.”
If Amy didn't know him any better, she would have taken that as an insult. His apology came physically, rather than verbally. He set his cup on the table behind him and stripped her of the blanket cocoon. Before she could say anything, his hands found her tense shoulders and started kneading them. Amy had to bite her lip to stop the groan about to escape, but her face scrunching up conveyed the sound anyway.
She did jump when thunder came again, but less so, now that she was in his grasp.
“You don't have to do this, I'll be fine,” she said.
“Shut up and drink your tea,” Shadow responded quietly.
Amy sighed noisily, making it known she wasn't happy with being bossed around. She still grabbed her now acceptably warm cup and inhaled the minty smell, letting a newfound calm wash over her body. Though it was slow, she eventually gulped some down. In combination with everything else, it took every fiber in her being to remain upright versus melting.
She wouldn't doubt that was the goal, but she wanted to draw this out a little longer.
Amy was then reminded of the ‘tidbit’ she had been given earlier. “It's funny, y’know. Rouge told me that I should give you a massage one day. If I ever wanted to get closer to you. Said you don't get them often unless she made you go with her.”
Shadow grunted, but his fingers pressed deeper in retaliation. He was pleased with the sound she made as a result because he exhaled in the way he did before laughing—sadly, the laughter did not follow. “The witch thinks she's onto us. I suppose we're not being too subtle anymore.” He didn't answer her statement, but rather deflected because he knew that was the real reason she brought it up. Shadow did text her to save him and get Rouge out of his room.
“No, I suppose not,” Amy replied, simply.
She closed her eyes and relaxed further, no longer caring if she made it difficult for him to continue as she leaned into his chest. A purr was bubbling up in her throat, but she suppressed it in time.
“I take it that you're calm enough to go to bed?”
Her eyes flew open. “What makes you say that?” Amy wasn't exactly sleepy anymore, and she'd had other things in mind now that he was here.
“You haven't been as jumpy, the thunder doesn't appear to bother you anymore,” Shadow said, matter of factly.
As if the universe were on his side and ready to prove his point, the next bout of lightning and thunder came and went. Amy didn't even flinch. She only blinked. Then, she huffed.
“Didn't your plan include a part two?”
“Only if you wanted it to,” he shot back without missing a beat.
The fingers working away at her taut muscles slowed, but the pressure increased. Amy could practically feel the intensity of his stare on the back of her head. She bit her lip.
“And if I want it to…?”
“Ask.”
Yup, there it was. Shadow had been trying to teach her this lesson for the past couple of times. ‘Closed mouths don't get fed’ or whatever smartass snarky bullshit he'd said. She was occupied after he'd said it and didn't care to retain it because he wanted the same thing at the end of the day. He'd been particularly… eager at that very specific time, too.
“You were the one who offered,” Amy reminded him smugly.
“I can rescind my offer and go to sleep,” Shadow threatened. It wasn't as snappy as he intended, however. More so, giving her time to rethink.
Amy didn't need to do that because her decision had been made the moment he brought it up.
“You're not going to, we both know that,” she settled on after a brief silence.
A smirk graced her features when the massage didn't relent and he made a noise resembling a grumble, scoff, and curse all at once. The next few minutes were quiet until her muscles weren't screaming from being so tight anymore and then he finally stopped. Picking himself off of the ground, Shadow grabbed their now empty mugs and went into the kitchen to wash them out. When that was done, he flipped her off on his way back to his room.
“You're a pain in the ass, I hope you know that.”
“You still like it, though~”
⸝⸝ ⟡
Amy gasped when her pajama shorts were just shy of ripping in their descent. Shadow didn't care where they ended up as he tossed them over his head away from the crackling fire. Her underwear were next, discarded in the same fashion, leaving her bottom half completely bare. Her complaints of being cold meant the blanket returned to her now stress free shoulders and she kept her shirt for now. It was bound to come off at some point anyway.
She was pushed to lay down, her only extra cushion was a pillow brought back from his room, and Shadow was between her thighs like clockwork. A shuddering moan left her lips the moment his tongue came in contact with her clit.
It nearly echoed in the otherwise silent cottage.
Her shoulders hadn't been the only thing wound tight. Using her noises made it easy to guide Shadow to the correct angle, allowing him to attack the engorged bud with the usual fervor needed to get her close to the edge. He didn't beat around the bush, just flattened his tongue and got to work. When Amy's hips were rising and falling in the opposite direction of his movement, effectively riding his tongue unabashedly, he stayed put until she was nothing but high pitched whining and gasps and moans. His muzzle was coated with the abundance of slick she produced in a few minutes. He leaned back on his haunches to raise his eyebrow at her.
“That was… quicker than normal,” Shadow said. “I can still feel my jaw. When's the last time you played with yourself?”
Amy blushed, both at his attempt at a joke and his question. “I'm not sure, a couple days?”
“Hmm.”
Shadow didn't make any other remarks as he removed his pants and shirt, tossing them just as haphazardly as her clothes. It didn't matter how many times they've done this, she always found herself getting shy seeing him like this, in this scenario of prepping himself to fuck her.
Everyone told Amy not to move Shadow into her place. They said it would be a disaster. But nobody knew of their situation and why it was more convenient to do so.
The way things started was quite hilarious in the ‘should be the plot for a movie’ kind of way. One really late night, when Team Dark had gotten back from a mission, Shadow invited her out for a drink. It wasn't out of the ordinary since they'd gotten the chance to get to know one another better over the years, thanks to Rouge. Shadow was a paranoid workaholic. She wanted to give the man something else to do other than worry about whether or not Eggman would somehow manage to break out of prison.
What better distraction was there besides attempting to set him up with a bubbly pink mutual friend trying to get over her old crush?
It didn't quite go as planned, but they agreed to keep in touch. Thus, their friendship was born; frequent check in texts turned into calls so long, they fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning on many occasions. Turns out, they had a lot more in common than they originally thought. With the familiarity came a weird bond that meant they could talk about any topic under the sun—quite literally.
Especially when one or the other were drunk.
Apparently, Amy told him about some gripes with her dry spell, and with such a high libido, she'd grown very frustrated. Said some questionable stuff that would have a grandmother clutching her pearls (if she even had one). Amy was so drunk that night, she didn't remember any of it the next day. Shadow, on the other hand, had been relatively sober and remembered every single detail of her drunken rant and all the embarrassing drivel said thereafter. In two short days, he approached her with an arrangement during daylight hours so she'd know he was being serious.
Once a month, Shadow would be at her beck and call for an evening to assist with her ‘issue’. Amy couldn't believe he thought of her that way to even consider it, let alone make such a brazen offer. Amy took him up on it that same night to see if he was really being serious.
Shadow came to her house and proceeded to show her that, yes, indeed he was being serious.
What he didn't account for, however, was that he was… attracted to Amy. Very much so. And once a month simply wouldn't do. They tried every other week, but it wasn't enough either.
At that point, is when they wondered about the logistics of continuously fucking a friend.
Friends didn't do what they did. Friends certainly didn't ignore the multitude of emotions that came with very good sex that took place almost every week. They still hung out regularly, talked everyday they could, and could look each other in the eye afterwards. Acknowledging the feelings, however, would mean all of that could end.
With that in mind, both put it on the back burner because it made things less complicated than… admitting hard truths. And so, it remained very good sex between two very good friends. Which is why it made more sense to take advantage of the opportunity to be under the same roof.
Nothing more to it, of course.
There was nothing else about watching Shadow stroke himself before expertly slipping on a condom. There was nothing else about being filled with anticipation as he applied lube to himself and her sensitive area with meticulous precision. There was definitely, absolutely nothing else about the excitement that came from being bent face first over her own damn coffee table in the middle of the night in the midst of a thunderstorm while the power was out and—
“Oh my chaos,” Amy moaned.
Shadow held her hips firmly, the blanket now moved off to the side, and slowly pushed into her warmth. Letting her adjust to the size. Reeling himself in because he didn't want to make a hypocrite of himself by bringing attention to the fact that he'd been waiting for this and hadn't put hands on himself either. Despite the plentiful lubrication, it was still a bit hard to bottom out, so Shadow rubbed at her clit again.
“Relax…” he breathed against her back.
Amy wasn't aware she'd tensed up (force of habit from the girth) and tried to do as instructed with the added stimulation. “S-Sorry,” she began. He thrusted a squeal out of her when he spread her legs wider. Pushed on her back to deepen the arch. “Can you…?”
“Already ahead of you,” Shadow interrupted. He pulled out, tried a different angle and then—
“Fuuuck… Right th-there!”
“Mhm.”
Shadow fully sheathed himself inside of her successfully. A few shallow thrusts tested the waters, making her toes curl. Amy made her own adjustments, wishing he had thicker pillows to save her poor knees. Shadow fixed this by holding her up entirely in order to preserve that pesky, perfect angle he just fucking found second try, damn her. The table creaked and shook when he found a good rhythm to punish her for almost spoiling his hard work.
Their groans synced, the claws on her feet scratched the hardwood while their hips met over and over. Ramping up to a brutal pace wrenched screams from Amy's throat. One of the upsides of the cottage was the lack of neighbors for a couple miles.
It didn't take long for Amy to unravel yet again. She was always weirdly sensitive, but Shadow lo—liked that about her.
Her arms were wobbly, barely able to keep her from face planting the table with each thrust. Amy reached back and tapped him on the arm three times. “S-Switch, please…” she managed shakily.
“What do you want?”
“Dunno… ‘n don't care…”
Shadow removed himself, tightened his grip around her waist and flipped them. He sat on the pillow and placed her in his lap. Being weak in the arms and legs meant Amy needed assistance to sit on his dick, but once the entrance was aligned, he was welcomed to the hilt without any resistance. She sighed at the fullness, burying her head in the crook of his neck. A bit of lavender tickled her nostrils. As subtly as she could, she breathed it in.
He was probably one of the few men in her life that actually gave a fuck if he smelt like anything, let alone smell good. Amy lo—liked that about him.
Knowing he needed a bit of stimulation to stay hard, Amy rocked back and forth as her waning strength allowed. Shadow was impossibly impatient and took over, leaning back and lifting his hips in time. So, she let him and panted heavily with every bounce. The only indication this was affecting him just as much was the fact that his breathing grew heavier, too.
Getting a second wind, Amy freed herself from the blanket and shed her shirt. She tried to ignore the intense lustful (and handsome and hot) look on his face, wrapped her arms around his neck and quite literally rocked his fucking world in a way it seemed only she knew how to.
“God damn,” Shadow moaned.
Amy had had plenty of practice to perfect this position, even when she was on the verge of collapsing. Being a pillow princess sounded pretty good right about now, actually. She held strong, though, and drew more of those filthy noises he always tried to hold back that she lo—liked to hear.
Things were very wet and sticky and, honestly, kind of gross, (his poor pillow…) between them now and she was positive she’d already cum at least four times at this point, but he was nearing his first. And, damn him, she was going to make sure it knocked him on his ass. Or, at least on his back, since she’d gotten so wild with her bouncing that he lost his balance against the table and slid to the side. That was good enough.
Shadow growled. Whether it be at her or not—she didn’t give a fuck either way—it spurred her on past the obvious point of exhaustion she hit five whole minutes ago. He was close, and so was she again, and, oh no—
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Amy cursed as Shadow sloppily thrusted up into her. Hands squeezed her hips, nearly to a point of pain. Burying himself deep despite the new angle. “Holy shit, please don’t st-stop!”
He didn’t intend to, for obvious reasons. He tried to ignore how lustful (and beautiful and hot) she looked with her claws threaded through her own quills, head tilted back in ecstasy as she shattered into a thousand crystal shards that twinkled in the firelight behind her. Shadow… loved that about her. Or perhaps, that’s merely what it looked like on his end when he saw stars as he spilled into the condom, using one final thrust to hit a very particular sweet spot.
Amy’s screaming fizzled out into a pathetic mix of a sob and whine from the overstimulation. His apology came physically, rather than verbally. Again. In the form of his lips crashing into hers, kissing her, tongue darting inside and wrestling with hers as she kissed him back just as hard.
Once they come down from the high, trying their absolute damnedest to ignore the fact that they did that, Shadow was the first to move. He pushed her off of him and took care of the protective layer by tying the end into a knot. He was on his feet in the next second and across the kitchen to throw it away, leaving Amy feeling colder than she had been without the blanket surrounding her.
The shuffling of his bare feet was the only thing she could hear, becoming aware of the fact that the rain outside had stopped, taking the accursed thunder with it. The clouds were still a very angry mix of dark purples and midnight blues, and could see them lighting up in the distance. It was likely the storm would be back very soon. He’d done all this to calm her down and that very thing was coming back to haunt her as soon as she returned to her room to attempt to sleep.
Amy shrunk in on herself, ears folding against her head.
“What are you pouting for now?”
She shook her head. “The… the storm…” It was all she could manage; physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.
Shadow leaned against the threshold separating the kitchen from the living room and stared at her. It was times like these that she couldn’t really decipher the expressionless expression on his face. With it, usually came a pinch of annoyance or a hint of exasperation, and almost always, at her antics. Good or bad. Amy didn’t want to think about what it was she thought she saw at the edges of his twitching lips. She also didn’t want to think about the fact that hers still tingled from where they touched not even a whole two minutes ago…
He sighed.
“You can sleep in my room tonight, you whiny baby.”
Amy didn’t perk up immediately, but a new sensation did blossom within her chest. It was fuzzy, and weird, and she… loved it. Whatever it was. And Amy wanted to poke fun at the fact that this was technically her house and she could sleep anywhere she damn well pleased, but Shadow tossed her over his shoulder before she could. She squeaked, arms and legs flailing.
“H-Hey, I have legs!”
“Are they useful at this very moment?” No, they were not. Her silence proved his point and he huffed. “Exactly. Shut up and stop squirming.”
She did not shut up, quite the opposite, in fact, as she made little noises of protest. Amy hadn’t the energy to keep up her wiggling and lacked the brain capacity to form longer sentences—as was usual after such activities—but she did not like being bossed around. The moment her back hit his soft and cozy sheets, though, Amy melted into a puddle of blissful goo. She could vaguely remember feeling a wet towel between her legs, grumbles about her nearly making a mess of his freshly laundered linens, and being scooted further towards the wall so Shadow could climb in beside her. Then, she was out like a light, thoroughly and properly tuckered out.
What Amy did end up recalling was the way she jumped and whimpered the moment the thunderstorm returned with a vengeance. The arms that followed, wrapping around her waist, and the smell of lavender tickling her nose once it was laid against fluffy chest fur. The next BOOM to shake the house was only just that, like it was only in her dreams when she’d fallen back asleep.
And the sleepy murmur of, “I love you, Rose,” had to have been in her dreams, too, because there was no way Shadow, her roommate, her friend, would ever admit something like that aloud… even if he thought she was knocked out cold. Just like she would never admit that it wasn’t the first, or second, or twentieth time being said in this exact same scenario. Or the fact that sometimes she whispered it back when she was eighty-eight percent sure he wouldn’t hear her either.
That’s what Amy always told herself when she woke up, anyway.
Shadow, well… he was growing tired of telling himself the same thing. He wanted it to be real, because he found that he liked being with her. Sharing these moments, more romantically than platonically. Nevermind the fact that he knew next to nothing about romance. She did, though. She could teach him. But he couldn’t do that to his roommate, his friend, because that could mean the end of it all.
That’s what he always told himself when he woke up, so… perhaps they’d never find out.