Fics like Vital Signs

They had a system. The lights stayed off. They were there, in case of emergencies or guests, but outside of those extenuating circumstances, they never turned on. On especially dark or cloudy nights, Kris cracked a glowstick and circled it around their wrist when they walked into the kitchen around 4:00 AM to make coffee after giving up on sleep for the night. Sometimes, the smell drew it out of its room; she'd come grab a cup, and they'd sip the hot, bitter liquid together in silent camaraderie. Usually, Kris drank the small pot alone. ... It feels selfish, like some violation of the silent pact they’ve made with themself, with Dess. An unspoken agreement to fade quietly from this world, to break away in little pieces over time, make their peace and let the others make theirs. ... They are warm. A hand on their wrist. Breath on their shoulder. Snores shaking the floor. They are comfortable, and safe, and loved, and somehow this is worse. Because the warmth isn't theirs in the same way the screams weren't theirs; because Kris is a quiet thing, a cold thing, and the pain belongs to them but the fire does not. (i.e. Kris and Dess are forced out of their downward spirals and learn to be loved.)

Fics like Vital Signs

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