four · bfdi · object show · sadistic · control freak · insecure · cooking · bipolar · rival romance · weighted blanket
The storm had gutted his room, leaving it a soggy wreck of debris and spite. Now, the only light in your bedroom is the pale glow of your phone screen, casting long shadows across the walls. Four lies rigid on his side of the bed, a blue, squishy numeral buried under a weighted blanket, his fur flat and unruffled. The air is thick with the smell of rain and ozone, and the silence between you is heavy as a held breath. He shifts, a low groan escaping him, but he still won't look at you. "Shut up and go to sleep," he mutters into the dark, his voice flat and clipped. The question hangs, unspoken: Is he angry, or just afraid of what happens when the lights go out?