SAVE POINT 70

Loading an Accidently "Dank" Situation...98%

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1121518782947536936/481a02da-5e47-4e21-a564-ebe0e4b606b0.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1121518783928999998/07dc110c-e629-4eaf-80a1-b04a1553f28e.png]

Dormouse

This brownie is fucking delicious. I don't know why I can't really think about anything but that as I trail behind Fanboi, but oh my God, he has to have more of these. The last crumbles of chocolate deliciousness linger on my fingers as I struggle to lick them off.

"Dude, you have more of those brownies?" I ask the surfer bro. His face blurs a little as he looks over his shoulder, shaking his head at me, "No, bro, just enjoy what you had."

The way he's grinning at me is weird, but it's probably just my imagination—the heat in this meadow. The sun's been beating down on the back of my neck all day as we trudge through the tall, yellow grass, listening as Fanboi points and guides us around a make-shift camp of tents, lecturing us on non-informative usernames and skills his nerd friends have like a teacher's aide who is nothing close to the real deal.

If you ask me, we should never have followed him. Night is creeping up over the sky and our darkening shadows and the chill night air are a poignant reminder that we'd better find shelter soon.

"Mimi, I think we should find somewhere to bunk for the night," I murmur, as a reminder, trying to keep the comment low enough to prevent it from reaching certain ears but...

Well, Fanboi heard it. The guy's head pops up like an excited golden retriever, "Not_A_Foot_Fetish101 has agreed to loan you his yurt for the night. It's plenty roomy—"

Maude makes a face. Disgust rippling the smooth features of her face, "Could we borrow a tent from literally anyone else?"

Fanboi shrugs, grinning, "Your choice. Meadow filled with snakes or a yurt owned by one." The comment doesn't appear to help Maude's level of repulsion.

"We'll take the tent, thank you," Mimi interrupts quickly, nodding efficiently at Fanboi who chuckles a little.

"Right this way, Princesses and the frog," the guy sings, whistling as he steps around a nearby tent, slipping into the shadows.

My face tingles.

Why is it tingling? Is it the night air? The breeze?

I bring both hands to the skin, patting the flesh there, but it's firm so...

So, why does it feel like it's melting?

Like things are...swaying a little?

Oooh—pleasant. It feels...pleasant.

In a way that makes me want to curl my toes and giggle and howl at the moon—

"You okay, Dormouse?" Mimi leans into my face. And she smells nice. I don't think I've noticed that before.

"I think I should sit down," I admit.

And she grabs me by the arm and ushers me under the fabric folds of a yurt. Three, plush-looking sleeping bags are already laid out there, and I happily sink into one. My head faces out of the tent flap where I can blink up at the stars which seem to swirl above me, expanding and pulsing like I can almost feel their brightness.

"Do you see that?" I ask Mimi, pointing upward.

The freckled girl eases down next to me, her brown hair spilling over the side of one of the sleeping bag pillows as she tilts her chin back and stares up at the expansive sky too, "See what?"

"They're moving," I whisper in awe.

And we're moving too—this strange, vibrating hum that I feel deep in my bones...and Mimi. I watch the girl inhale and exhale—her white tank top moving up and down—

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"God, I'm starved," I breathe.

And Mimi laughs—a hearty sound coming up from her stomach—"You just ate a brownie—"

"I'm hungry!" I tell her, complaining, "Got any of those ration bars in your pack?"

And she does; I know she does.

I hear the sleeping bag crunch as she rolls onto her side reaching for them.

And I remember peeling back the colorful wrapper of the first bar, my mouth salivating at the look of the granola-like thing. And I remember chewing—God, it felt so good to chew!

But, honestly, I don't remember much after that.

I was so awake and so tired at the same time...

Loading 'I'm Not Sure How Much' Later...101%

I wake, blinking blearily into the darkness and the fabric seams overhead.

Right, the yurt.

A fluffy blanket is drawn up to my chin, but I struggle for a minute to remember tugging it there. My pupils take a minute to adjust to the dark, and I recognize a figure laying next to me. Thin with the smooth curve of a hip cresting under the blanket we share...a white chin protruding and ruffled, brown hair falling in her—

Oh my God.

I start.

The girl puts out a shushing hand, trying to calm the nerves frantically jumping underneath my skin.

"Mimi?!" I hiss, concerned. Did we—

No. No, I have a super crush on the girl, but we couldn't have.

But I don't really remember much. Was I drugged? Why are we sharing a sleeping bag if we didn't—

"It's okay, Dormouse," Mimi murmurs, "We didn't..."

We didn't. It's okay.

I try to restart my heart as the girl shifts towards me, swallowing absently and rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Her mouth curls up in a fond smile. "Actually," she amends, "I think that brownie Fanboi gave you had weed in it. You just laid here, eating four backpacks worth of ration bars and staring up at the constellations, naming every one of them to ad nauseam and telling me that, if you were Grand Dragon, you'd rearrange the entire night sky to look like food instead of animals. I believe you wanted to fashion a constellation after spaghetti and meatballs if I remember correctly." She chuckles.

And all the breath goes out of me in a giant woosh.

"You're good, Dormouse," she adds, "You were really tired at the end and just wanted to snuggle. Nothing happened." And it's maybe the first time during this whole conversation that I'm able to believe her about it. ...And breathe. Finally. Her expression is so genuine.

I try a smile myself, leaning my head back against the pillow and noticing that there's two empty sleeping bags beside the one we're sharing.

"Where's Maude?" I ask.

And the girl's brow creases in annoyance briefly before she shakes it away, "Wherever Maude always is late at night."

And silence blankets us, but I see the girl chewing on her lip. Her eyes seem lost somewhere.

"What is it?" I ask, my voice low and prodding.

Her cheeks flush, "Oh, uh..."

And it's not my imagination, the girl scoots closer to me under the covers, drawing them up to her chin which quivers with indecision, "It's just that, while you were going on about the food constellations and such, you also...you, also—described the color of my eyes."

My breath catches.

Shit.

What did I say? Oh Grand Dragon, what did I say?! Why can't I remember something important like this???!!!

"I did?" I squeak, dying inside.

Mortified.

Fuzzy turnip at the back of the refrigerator dead inside.

She scoots closer, "The exact color of my eyes. Like you'd really taken the time to notice—" Her gaze is intense—stormy, steel gray and blue all meshing together. Had I described it like that? Like the ocean sea waves when they come in at night? Or like the depths of a polished stone where all the colors meet and tumble together? Was that what I'd said?

I can't let her continue. I have to stop her. "I do—" I hurry, swallowing—gulping air—"I do notice you, Mimi."

And the words burn coming off my tongue. Like I'm playing with dangerous fire I don't know how to control.

"I know that now," she says. And she tucks a rectangle of hair behind her ear.

But something's different—

Something's—

"I notice you too," she whispers. Her face is so close. Her breath tickles my chin as something leaps inside of me.

Fear?

Lust?

Oh God.

She leans forward.

And her lips taste like watermelon ChapStick and a summer day.

Sweet.

Simple.

Innocent.

But her hands under the covers are less so.

And I'm glad, in that moment, that it's just us.

Fumbling and breathless in the dark.

And no Maude.