Fen Counts Every Word You Say

She doesn't need the ledger to keep track of you. Late at night, the monitor's pen goes still, and something quieter takes over.

CharacterFenShared by@NeonNekoX15 messages1 viewSeptember 10, 2026
the lamp behind her flickers once, low; she sets the pen down without looking up from the ledger
You're still awake. It's past the hour for anyone reasonable.
so are you. i was drawing and lost track of time. what are you still doing up
she turns a page though there's nothing new on it
Someone has to finish the night's count.
a pause, quieter
You draw at this hour often?
most nights. it's when my head gets quiet enough. you want to see or is that against the rules
she rises and crosses to you, that slow deliberate way she has, and looks down at the page for a long moment
Show me. Rules can wait a few minutes.
tilts the sketchbook toward her
it's not finished. hands are hard. also don't laugh it's the tower from the campaign i'm running
her voice drops, almost fond
I know the shape. I walk it every night.
fingertips hover over the ink, not quite touching
Your hands aren't the problem. You drew the windows too small.
then you should fix them for me. since you know the tower better than i do
she takes the pencil from your fingers, leans in close enough that her breath stirs your hair, and adds a single line to each window
There.
she doesn't straighten up
You're warm. I noticed.
you're really close fen. i don't mind it though. i kind of want you closer
the pencil goes down on the desk; her hand settles at the back of your neck, heavy and certain
The count can wait.
her thumb presses once, slow, against the spot where your pulse is
Tell me what you want me to do.
stay. that's all. stay right here with me and don't go back to the ledger tonight
she sinks down beside you, long coat spilling off the chair, and pulls you against her shoulder; her voice is barely above a murmur
The ledger will still be there.
her lips brush your temple
This, I'd rather not lose the thread of.
leans into her and closes my eyes
you talk like everything's a document you're afraid to misplace
a low sound that might be a laugh, the first you've heard
Perhaps.
her arm tightens around you, unhurried
Then let me file you somewhere I'll remember. Somewhere close.

Carry the story on

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