Saturday | 3rd person POV

  Band practice was long and draining.

  The studio was silent, save for the occasional hum of an amplifier left on in the corner.

  The air was thick with exhaustion.

  The kind that came from hours of playing, of pouring everything out until there was nothing left.

  Nickie’s head rested against the armrest of the couch, her limbs heavy, her eyes barely open.

  She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, just that it felt comfortable.

  Adam was beside her, half-slumped in his seat, his long hair spilling over his shoulders.

  The session had gone too late, but neither of them had wanted to leave.

  And now?

  Neither of them had the energy to move.

  Nickie barely caught it.

  A soft murmur, almost lost in the stillness.

  "Stay, drummer girl."

  Her chest swelled.

  She wasn’t sure why, only that hearing it made her feel something rare.

  It took her a few moments before she could respond, before she could even think about speaking.

  And then, just as softly, she whispered back,

  "I’m dead. You’re hauling my corpse to Dave’s."

  She felt rather than saw the small smile that flickered on Adam’s lips.

  “Anything you want, Your Corpseness.”

  Don’t wanna put you down

  Nickie didn’t remember falling asleep.

  One moment she was talking to her mom on the phone, saying she’ll stay over at David’s tonight, and then…. just a haze.

  Next thing she knew, she was being lifted.

  She stirred, half-awake, half-dreaming, feeling the warmth of Adam’s arms around her, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

  He carried her effortlessly.

  One arm secure under her legs, the other cradling her back, like she weighed nothing at all.

  She could hear his quiet footsteps against the pavement as he walked through the dimly lit street toward David’s.

  For a while, neither of them spoke.

  Then Nickie’s voice came out in a drowsy mumble.

  "You’re warm."

  Adam huffed a small laugh. “That’s ‘cause you’re freezing.”

  Nickie shifted slightly, curling closer.

  Adam adjusted his grip, holding her a little tighter.

  Soon he was nudging the front door open with his shoulder.

  David was in the kitchen, making tea.

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  He turned, raising an eyebrow at the sight before him:

  Nickie half-asleep in Adam’s arms, wrapped in his hoodie, her face buried against his chest.

  But Adam wasn’t just standing.

  He was frozen.

  Like the moment he crossed the threshold, something hit him.

  Something he wasn’t ready for.

  His arms tightened around her, just slightly.

  His fingers twitched against the fabric of her hoodie.

  And his eyes…

  God, his eyes.

  David had seen Adam lost before.

  Had seen him trapped in his own mind, suffocated by ghosts.

  But this?

  This was different.

  This wasn’t pain.

  It was longing.

  Pure, unfiltered, aching longing.

  Like he knew, the second he let her go, he would lose something.

  David had never seen Adam look at anyone like that.

  Not with that hesitancy, that fragile kind of want.

  For a second, he felt something in his chest twist.

  Because it hit him:

  This wasn’t just some crush.

  This was real.

  Adam probably didn’t even know how deep he was already in.

  Didn’t even realize he was standing there as if putting her down would physically hurt.

  David exhaled softly, setting down the tea.

  And with a voice that was gentler than usual, he said,

  "Adam, put her down so she can sleep."

  Adam flinched, like he had forgotten David was there.

  Like he had forgotten where he was entirely.

  For a moment, he didn’t move.

  His fingers kept twitching against Nickie’s hoodie, like he was debating something.

  Like some part of him was desperate to just keep holding her.

  But then, very slowly, reluctantly, he obeyed.

  Kneeling down, he laid her on the couch.

  So carefully.

  Like she was something irreplaceable.

  Nickie stirred slightly, feeling the shift, but didn’t fully wake.

  And Adam… He just stared.

  Then he reached for the blanket David kept on the side of the couch, draping it over her.

  He tucked it around her shoulders, brushed her hair out of her face.

  His fingers hovered over her cheek, just for a second, before he forced himself to pull away.

  David saw the hesitation.

  The lingering touch that almost happened, but didn’t.

  When Adam finally stood up, he looked at his own hands.

  Like something was missing.

  Like something was wrong.

  ***

  Lingering Warmth

  Nickie wasn’t fully awake.

  But she wasn’t fully asleep either.

  In that hazy space between consciousness and dreams, she felt everything.

  She felt the way Adam held her so securely, so carefully.

  She felt the moment his body pulled away, the absence of warmth.

  The weight of the blanket he had so gently tucked around her.

  Her mind barely formed words, just fragments of understanding:

  Safe. Warm. Wanted.

  She wanted to reach for him, to tell him not to go.

  But her body was too heavy, her voice too soft to break the quiet.

  So instead, she just let herself sink into the warmth he left behind.

  She heard his voice, just barely:

  "Good night, drummer girl."

  A small, sleepy smile touched her lips.