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When Firey wakes up, he sleepily brushes his hand on the other side of the bed, his fingers stretching to brush against Leafy's warmth. Instead, they meet the softened crisp of the blankets, flopping down onto the blank canvas of the cover sheet. Weird. She must've had another episode.

Another one? Another one. They were wearing off, day by day, yet each one would still carry the unspoken horrors that Firey couldn't decipher.

Propping himself up on his elbow, he swallowed the lump of guilt that was stuck in his chest, carefully tossing the sheets to the side. One swing and his legs were off the bed, letting his body stretch the exhaustion out of his clicking joints before the sound of footsteps made his head tilt.

"Someone's up late." Leafy spoke so softly that not even a ghost could hear. In her hands was a mug, steam waltzing through the air around her, as well as a yoyleberry and yoyle tomato enclosed in her palms.

It took him a moment to understand. But with a few blinks, he realized the amount of sunlight that had spilled into the room, as if nature was attempting to wake the other by any means necessary. He smiled nervously, giving her a gentle wave.

"Yeesh, how long was I out..?"

"Not too long." Leafy replied softly, walking up to him. "It's only 9:46.."

She reached over, her hand unveiling the yellow fruit. Firey would take the yoyle tomato, stepping away from the bed as the metal would soon melt away, his usual flames bursting and flickering through the air. A gentle glow emitted from his body, giving him more than enough energy to wake himself up.

Now that he was back, he had to be a lot more cautious with himself. All of his friends weren't the same since he had last seen them, and with the recovery center now back and running, he was quickly introduced to a new set of routines and rules, ones that prevented, what the others kept saying, chaos.

Keep taking a yoyleberry. Don't shout. Keep any mention of trowels away, and, for heaven's sake, keep any and every joke to yourself.

Don't cook for anyone. Don't share anything with ANYBODY. Leave that science museum to rot. And, most importantly: do NOT ask the recovered about the incident.

That was another thing. Since when wasn't the word 'murder' allowed in these parts?

"Where'd you go..?" He asked, covering the yawn that slipped from his words. Goodness, it had been so long since the two had some time together; the sight of Firey never failed to make the lemon leaf smile.

"I woke up early." Leafy took a sip of the drink in her hands. "You were out like a light; I didn't want to bother you."

"Cmon' Leafster," Firey chuckled underneath his breath. "I wouldn't have cared at all. We could've watched the sunrise together!"

"Firey- you were snoring."

"That doesn't mean anything!"

He let her laughter fill the room, taking him in. Her voice was like honey, mellifluous with every kind word that danced from her tongue, coating his heart in that golden syrup. Almost always, it was enough to bring a smile to his face.

"Got any plans for today?" he asked, reaching over to take her hand. He was a bit shocked to see how she immediately flinched away, taking a step back before holding her free hand out. The flame nearly went on a worried tirade- afraid that he had done something wrong- but his concerns were washed away as Leafy popped the Yoyleberry into her mouth, her green hue soon hardening into a solid gray.

Oh, he cringed at his ignorance. Right. His flames. Leafy would take a quiet sip of her drink, a soft sigh escaping her throat as she let her fingers outstretch, carefully intertwining with his.

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