Tag
Chance's POV:
Chance stayed outside a little longer, the coin flipping endlessly between his fingers. The cold metal felt grounding, something real to cling to when his thoughts felt too much like quicksand.
He could still feel Guest's eyes on him. The weight of something unspoken pressing between them, stretching taut. It made his chest tight, his skin too hot despite the crisp air.
But the words felt hollow.
His fingers curled around the coin, clenching it tight. His dream—it wasn't just a dream. Guest had been right. Something about this place twisted reality, made things bleed together in ways that didn't make sense.
And if Guest had seen him in his dreams, bleeding out, reaching for him—
Chance shook his head. No. It didn't mean anything. Couldn't mean anything.
He shoved the coin into his pocket and turned back toward the cabin.
Dinner wasn't much better than breakfast. The air was thick, conversations minimal, words sparse. Guest sat across from him again, and for the second time that day, their eyes met. Just for a moment.
Then, just like before, Guest looked away first.
Chance let out a slow breath and pushed his food around his plate. Across the table, Elliot watched him, brows furrowed in quiet concern. The kid didn't say anything this time. Just nudged the plate forward, offering some of the food.
Chance scoffed, shaking his head.
- "I'm not a kid, Elliot."
- "Didn't say you were." Elliot shrugged. "You just look like you need it."
Chance snorted slightly, taking a bite of his own food.
He was actually pretty hungry. But it's not like he was going to admit it.
Across from him, Guest still hadn't touched his food, just watching the others.
Everyone else was eating normally except him.
Of course, C00lkidd was yapping about something the whole time,mostly to his father 007N7 but guest was clearly invested.. it was nice to hear the silence fade.
Later that night, sleep refused to come.
Chance layed in his bed, staring at the ceiling.
He turned onto his side, exhaling slowly. His mind was too loud. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the phantom warmth of a touch that had never happened, heard a voice whispering his name like it meant something.
It made his skin prickle.
After what felt like hours, he gave up, pushing himself out of bed and slipping out of the cabin. The night air was crisp, a welcome contrast to the heat burning under his skin.
He wasn't surprised to find Guest already outside.
The man sat on the steps, elbows on his knees, staring off at the treeline. A cigarette burned between his fingers, the ember glowing dim in the dark. He didn't look up when Chance approached, but Chance knew he knew he was there.
- "Couldn't sleep?" Chance asked, keeping his voice light.
Guest huffed out a breath, shaking his head.
- "Never do."
Chance hesitated, then sat down next to him. Close, but not too close.
For a while, they just sat there in silence, the only sound the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant chirp of insects.
Then—
- "What was your dream?" Guest's voice was quiet. Careful.
Chance tensed.
- "Told you. Doesn't matter."
Guest exhaled, the smoke curling up into the night. He tapped ash off the cigarette before glancing over at him.
- "It does if it's keeping you up."
Chance rolled his eyes, looking away.
- "It was just a dream, soldier boy. Let it go."
Guest didn't push. Didn't say anything for a long time.
Then—
- "I let the kid win, you know."
Chance blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift.
He turned his head slightly, watching the faint smirk tug at the corner of Guest's lips.
- "Yeah?"
Guest nodded, taking another drag from his cigarette.
- "Doesn't mean I always will."
Chance snorted, finally—finally—letting himself relax, if only a little.
- "Better watch out, then. Kid's got energy for days."
Guest chuckled, the sound quiet but real.
- "So do I."
Chance arched a brow, smirking.
- "Yeah? Prove it."
Guest glanced at him, eyes glinting with something unreadable in the dim light.
Then he flicked the cigarette away, pushing himself to his feet.
- "Get up, then."
Chance blinked.
- "What, now?"
Guest smirked, stretching his arms above his head.
- "What, scared you'll lose?"
Chance scoffed, shaking his head as he stood.
- "You're ridiculous."
Guest just grinned.
- "You in or not?"
Chance rolled his shoulders, a slow grin spreading across his face.
- "Oh, I'm in."
Guest nodded once. Then—
- "Tag. You're it."
And just like that, he took off into the night.
Chance stared for a second, caught off guard.
Then he cursed, bolting after him.
The night was dark, the trees looming, but for the first time in days, Chance felt light.
Felt free.
The ground was uneven, roots and undergrowth threatening to trip him up, but Chance barely noticed. His heart pounded, breath coming in sharp bursts as he tore through the trees, chasing the flicker of Guest's silhouette in the darkness.
- "You run too fast!" Chance called, grinning.
- "perfect enough to outrun you!" Guest shot back, his voice carrying through the night.
Chance pushed harder, boots pounding against the dirt. He was gaining on him. Almost—
Then Guest pivoted sharply, vanishing behind a tree. Chance skidded to a stop, scanning the shadows. Silence stretched between them, thick and electric.
Then—a blur of motion.
Before he could react, Guest barreled into him, knocking them both to the ground. They hit the dirt, breathless laughter mixing with the night air.
Chance landed on his back, staring up at the sky, panting.
Guest hovered over him, a smirk tugging at his lips.
- "Tag."
Chance's breath hitched. His pulse thundered in his ears.
Then Guest pushed himself up, offering a hand.
Chance hesitated. Then—he took it.
The night stretched on, but for once, neither of them felt lost in it
- "good game pal" he said with a proud smile on his face
Chance let out a breathless chuckle, still catching his breath as he sat up. His palm was warm where it had clasped Guest's, a lingering ghost of contact that he tried not to think too hard about.
- "Yeah, yeah. You got lucky," he muttered, brushing dirt off his sleeves.
Guest huffed, amused.
- "Luck had nothing to do with it."
Chance rolled his eyes, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. The night air was cool against his heated skin, the rush of adrenaline still buzzing in his veins. For the first time in a while, the weight in his chest didn't feel so heavy.
They sat there for a moment, the forest humming around them. The quiet wasn't awkward. If anything, it felt... settled. Like something unspoken had finally eased between them.
Guest was the first to move, pushing himself to his feet.
- "C'mon. Before someone wakes up and thinks we ran off into the woods to kill each other."
Chance snorted but stood, stretching his arms over his head before stuffing his hands into his pockets.
- "Wouldn't put it past 'em," he admitted. "Wouldn't be the first time someone thought that."
Guest hummed, glancing at him with something unreadable in his expression.
- "Maybe," he said, then added, almost too casually, "But I wouldn't let you die."
Chance froze.
The words sat between them, heavy, deliberate. Guest didn't say it like a question—he said it like a fact.
Like he already knew the answer.
Chance swallowed, his fingers curling around the coin in his pocket. The image from his dream flickered at the edges of his mind—blood, cold creeping in, reaching out for something—someone.
He forced out a scoff, shaking his head.
- "You gettin' sentimental on me, soldier boy?"
Guest didn't flinch, didn't even look away. His gaze stayed steady, sharp, like he was peeling back the layers Chance barely even acknowledged himself.
- "Just stating the obvious."
Chance exhaled slowly, forcing himself to smirk.
- "Yeah, well. Don't get used to it."
Guest finally looked away, chuckling under his breath as they started walking back toward the cabin.
- "No promises."
Chance didn't know what to do with that.
Didn't know what to do with the way his chest felt too tight, too full, like something was trying to claw its way out.
So he said nothing.
But as they stepped back into the dim glow of the cabin lights, he found himself glancing at Guest again—at the way the shadows softened his features, the flicker of something in his eyes that looked a little too much like understanding.
Chance stayed silent as they reached the cabin, the distant echoes of their laughter fading into the night. Guest walked ahead, his posture relaxed but purposeful, as if he already knew exactly where this conversation—this night—was leading.
Chance wasn't so sure.
He lingered at the door, hesitating before stepping inside.
The air inside the cabin was thick, a contrast to the crisp night breeze.
Most of the others were already asleep, their steady breathing filling the quiet space.
Elliot had dozed off on the couch, arms tucked under his head, his plate from dinner still sitting on the table.
Guest paused at the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. The dim light from the kitchen lamp cast his face in half-shadows, eyes unreadable.
- "You coming in or just gonna stand there?"
Chance exhaled, stepping inside and letting the door click shut behind him. He didn't respond. Couldn't. Something about the weight of the moment made words feel unnecessary.
Guest didn't push. He just nodded once, then moved toward the back of the cabin, where the hallway split into their separate rooms. Chance followed without thinking, his feet moving on instinct.
They stopped at Guest's door.
Chance hesitated. His fingers twitched toward the coin in his pocket, seeking something tangible, something grounding. Guest leaned against the doorframe, watching him. Studying him.
- "You're thinking too hard again."
Chance scoffed, shaking his head.
- "And you don't think enough."
Guest smirked, the faintest trace of amusement flickering across his face.
- "Maybe. But at least I sleep at night."
Chance arched a brow.
- "Liar. You just said you never sleep."
Guest chuckled, the sound low and warm.
- "Caught that, huh?"
Chance didn't answer. Instead, he found himself staring—too long, too intensely. But Guest didn't look away this time. Didn't break the moment. If anything, he leaned into it, arms crossed, waiting. Like he already knew what Chance wasn't saying.
The silence stretched.
Chance inhaled sharply, breaking eye contact.
- "Go to bed, soldier boy."
Guest hummed, pushing off the doorframe.
- "You too."
Chance didn't respond. Just turned and walked toward his own room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.