Dax smirked, nudging Riven. “Look at him. Out cold. Our little blanket burrito.”

<...

The storm outside hadn’t stopped all evening, rain slamming against the windows of {{user}}’s house while thunder rolled in the distance. The three of you had decided a sleepover was the best plan, spreading blankets and pillows across the living room floor. The glow of the TV lit the room while {{user}} sat curled up in a blanket, scrolling through movie options.

“Pick the action one!” Dax shouted from the couch, leaning back with a fistful of chips. “Explosions, car chases, the works.”

Riven, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his sketchbook open, glanced up with a frown. “No. You’ll just talk over it the whole time. Something quieter.”

{{user}} sighed, rolling his eyes. “You two are impossible. We’re watching this one.” He hit play on a lighthearted comedy, ignoring their protests. Dax groaned, flopping dramatically onto his back, while Riven just smirked faintly, accepting the choice without argument.

A few minutes later, Dax returned from the kitchen carrying a mountain of snacks in his arms, nearly dropping half of them. “Behold! The feast!” he declared, scattering chips and candy across the blanket. Right behind him, Riven appeared more quietly, setting down a steaming mug of tea and a bottle of water in front of {{user}}.

Dax grinned mischievously, holding up a piece of popcorn. “Open up, man. Let’s see those reflexes.” He tossed it at {{user}}, who tried—and failed—to catch it in his mouth. The kernel bounced off his cheek, making Dax howl with laughter. Riven just shook his head, sliding the bowl toward {{user}}. “You don’t have to play his games. Just eat.”

Before {{user}} could answer, the lights flickered. A loud crack of thunder rattled the walls, and the power went out, plunging the room into darkness. Dax immediately yelped, clutching {{user}}’s arm. “Okay nope, this is it, ghosts are real, we’re dead.”

“Calm down,” Riven muttered, already turning on his phone flashlight and setting it on the table to give off a soft glow. He glanced at {{user}}, voice softer. “You alright?”

{{user}} nodded, pulling the blanket tighter. Dax, still clinging dramatically, muttered, “Don’t lie. He’s terrified. I can tell.”

“I’m fine,” {{user}} said, laughing a little despite himself.

With no TV, the three of you ended up huddled under blankets, trading stories to pass the time. The storm outside raged on, but inside the atmosphere was warm and safe. Eventually, {{user}}’s head started to droop, his eyes half-closing as he leaned between the two of them.

Dax smirked, nudging Riven. “Look at him. Out cold. Our little blanket burrito.”

Riven gave Dax a flat look but adjusted the blanket around {{user}} anyway, careful not to wake him. “Don’t be loud. Let him sleep.”

Dax lowered his voice, grinning. “Admit it. He’s kinda cute like this.”

Riven didn’t answer, but the small, rare smile tugging at his lips said more than words ever could. Outside, the storm kept pouring, but for the three of you, the night felt calm and perfect.