The Resting Centre was quiet. Too quiet, actually. The kind of quiet that makes you check twice whether a trapdoor is about to snap open under your feet—or if someone's silently judging you for breathing. But that was not going to happen here .
Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, painting streaks across worn wooden floorboards, lighting up the dust motes like tiny, floating fairy celebrities. Yelena sat cross-legged on a mat near the window, tracing the grooves of the wood as if it held the answers to life itself—or at least a decent cup of tea.
The trio had left an hour ago, marching off into the forest like they were auditioning for a movie poster. Leaving her here. Alone. With Koga, who was snoring softly and taking a nap that would probably count as a minor crime against time itself.
Her eyes kept flicking to him. The rise and fall of his chest… steady. Calm. Peculiarly peaceful. It tugged at memories she had buried deep — silent rooms, nights stretching on and on like endless gray blankets , loneliness that pressed so hard it could crush ribs.
Narrator (snarky):"Here we have it folks the girl sitting quite acknowledging the trauma of her past , remembering the old scars while the dude just snores like there is no tomorrow. "
Yelena exhaled softly and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. For her it was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous to remember such the depths of loneliness while someone else was just…existing in the same room.
Writer : "But hey, human emotions are messy like that. It is fine to feel a bit out of place every now and then."
Her thoughts drifted to childhood nights—staring at a ceiling too low, in a room too small, where the only sound was her own breathing and occasional creaks from a distant floorboard. A tiny lamp flickered on her desk back then, casting more shadows than light, a single beacon of control in a world that had no interest in her comfort. She'd learned early to rely on routines, on rituals, on the tiniest comforts. And now, the same habits clung to her, even in this strange Resting Centre.
Koga shifted slightly in his sleep. A soft creak, a twitch of his fingers. Some fear and trauma on his face , maybe a dream form the past. Yelena noticed, as she always noticed, the subtle echo of his history, the faint scars of solitude mirrored in the smallest gestures. She couldn't put it into words, because of course she couldn't, but the recognition made her chest tighten in a way she refused to name.
That One Girl in the audience(muttering):"W-wait… okay, so they both… suffered alone? That's… kinda sad… but don't think I care or anything, I just… noticed it. Yeah, noticed it. That's all."
Yel moved a vial of anesthetic liquid, feeling its cool weight in her hand, a grounding sensation. Koga too must had leaned on small comforts like these during darker days, relying on routines to survive.
Self-sufficiency had saved them, but it left quiet scars neither spoke aloud.
The scent of old wood, faint herbs, and soft sunlight mingled in the room. Outside, the leaves of the forest swayed gently in a brebadueze that whispered through the open window. Yelena imagined walking through that forest with Koga at her side, two solitary souls moving in sync without needing words.
Narrator (sobbing):"And there it is. Two lonely hearts ,not so yet perfectly aligned like the wings of a caged bird. Neither will admit to the scars. And audience? Yeah, you too can't seem to admit to yours. Don't worry, I also won't be able too."
Yelena let her hand fall to the mat, brushing the cold wood, resisting the urge to lightly touch half sleeping — half weeping Koga.
Some truths are delicate, fragile—like glass figurines or unfinished latte art ; they are meant to left untouched.
She thought briefly of the trio—Xitij, Rosé, Einar. Out there somewhere, probably arguing over whether a squirrel counts as prey. Meanwhile, she sat here, skirt pulled tightly, anxiety and protective instinct wrapped around her.
That One Girl in the audience:"Ugh… I'm not… crying, okay? I'm totally fine… just…. they looks peaceful yet so miserable. Ohh , why are writing like this you dweeb ?? " (referring to the writer)
A small scratch on Koga's forearm caught Yel's attention, leftover from the morning hunt. Carefully, she adjusted the bandage, brushing the soft fabric. He didn't stir. Even in sleep, he trusted her—a cute little small detail.
Sunlight shifted, stretching long shadows across the floor. Yelena leaned against the window frame, letting the light warm her arms. Memories, worries, and tiny "what ifs" swirled like dust motes in the sunbeam. It was strange to think two people could carry such similar scars and never speak of them.
Her fingers drummed softly against the windowsill, almost meditative. Outside, the breeze carried the scent of forest—wet earth, leaves, distant flowers. She wanted to share them with someone who understood , the 'them' are not all these beautiful aspects of the forest but rather the thorns of her past. The thorns which kept her away at night , the thorns which seem to sting every time she sits quiet and alone . A sting which with time has stopped to hurt , a pain memorised by the mind , the pain of being alone.
Koga shifted again, stretching lightly, a soft murmur escaping his lips. Yelena smiled faintly. Even silent, even sleeping, he was grounding her.
That One Girl in the audience:"Wow… okay… so they both… suffered the same thing. And I… I'm fine… totally fine… but my heart… it's really not fine… okay fine, it's fine… just stop this already Mr, writer "
She pressed her cheek to her knees, letting the sun warm her. Silence had weight. Unspoken understanding was comforting. Even in solitude, she wasn't completely alone.
The sun continued its slow crawl across the floor, bathing the room in warm light. Two solitary hearts rested near each other, mirroring histories never spoken, echoing through small gestures and silent presence.
That One Girl in the audience:"Oh wow… so quiet, so golden… okay , my heart is a mess, but like… the good kind of mess. I can feel it. I can feel it all… but it's totally not like I care or anything, .... well maybe I do now."
Narrator : Well being alone is no so bad but yeah it can be pretty devastating to be lonely .
As ,
" Alone is one who is away from other ,
Lonely is one who has noother "
Narrator :But Hey! that was the reason I was created so that you wouldn't feel lonely while reading this DREAM.