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Sandrone isn't used to sharing her bed.
She should have foreseen that letting Columbina nap in her space was a slippery slope. Sandrone has been exceptionally generous as of late, doing her best to accommodate her new colleague, yet there seems to be no end to Columbina's demands.
More than anything Sandrone should've made it clear that Columbina needs to keep her distance during the night, as there are few positions Sandrone can comfortably rest in.
Now she's trapped, the unbalanced weight of her key keeping her awake while Columbina slumbers, curled into her. At this rate Sandrone would rather go back to "sleeping" on a chair.
She's stuck on her side, Columbina's face buried to her chest, one of her dainty arms draped over Sandrone's hip. Any minor adjustments Sandrone has tried to make have proved useless. Her remaining options are to withdraw or lean in fully, which risks waking Columbina up or crushing her.
Sandrone doesn't want to deal with either. Disturbing her would be rude and she would surely come up with some nonsense to bother her with, preventing her sleep twofold.
And so Sandrone has spent hours in the dark, listening to Columbina's eerily calm heartbeat and trying to stop analyzing the scent of her hair. Every inhale brings forth whiffs of rain and winter icelea, those proud plants that thrive even in frost. Columbina's body temperature is slightly below the human average and if not for the soft breaths against the front of her nightgown, Sandrone would worry.
At least she doesn't snore. Nor does she squirm, which would drive her insane when Sandrone does sleep. No, Columbina is still, as though frozen in the moment, and Sandrone wonders what the Moon dreams about. To inspire pleasant dreams, Sandrone often closes her eyes and thinks of her free time projects, such as the next steps for her clockwork toy prototypes. She has no idea what brings similar comfort to Columbina other than her singing.
Dormi cara, columbula
Columbina has disturbed her many times, wandering about the gardens, stealing her attention away from her experiments with her soft voice. Sandrone recalls the lullaby, the gentle run of each note, humming it in her mind, imagining Columbina among the crystallized flower buds and the slow whirl of snowflakes.
Sandrone's eyes flutter open as her body tilts off-centre for the hundredth time and she steadies herself before her wind-up key ends up tearing into the mattress. She groans, trying to turn slightly more towards the bed without pressing into Columbina. Her arms are awkwardly between them, not making anything easier.
Tonight will be the last time she allows this to happen, never sacrificing her rest for Columbina's comfort again. She accepts needing to override her system's usual twenty-four hour cycle to stay at her best performance tomorrow.
Then, Sandrone picks up a new presence in the room, a source of energy somewhere out of her sight.
"What?" Is she hallucinating already?
"Oh." A gentle glow peeks behind the bedside, the newcomer revealing to be a lone kuuhenki.
"It's you," Sandrone hums, glad that her readings aren't faulty as the kuuhenki slowly glides fully into view.
Columbina's wimpy spirits that come and go. Sandrone hasn't been able to pin them down yet, a little nerved whenever a few of them pop up in her workshop to watch her. At least they rarely touch her tools, which could not be said for Columbina.
She knows the kuuhenki prefer to move in pairs and apparently they have a sweet tooth, though Sandrone suspects Columbina told her that as a ploy to get the spirits to smuggle her more snacks. Sandrone would like to know how many of them there are and how far they could stray, but questioning Columbina about her familiars is yet to result in anything sensible. Columbina can't possibly know so little of them as she lets on.
The wisp floats soundlessly over Sandrone, glowing a little brighter and making her squint.
"What is it?"
The kuuhenki hovers near, appearing to inspect her and Columbina's intertwined figures, its peculiar energy feeling like a cool breeze. Could it be confused by their sleeping arrangement?
"S-She's fine… I'm.. Uh…" Sandrone lifts her left arm carefully over Columbina's back, mindful of her unbound hair. "Hugging her, see?"
The kuuhenki tilts it head in striking similarity to Columbina when she doesn't compute Sandrone's words. Great. Is her destiny to be surrounded by idiots from the moon?
Next, the spirit swivels behind her and pulls the single most irritating thing it could come up with: poking her moving key with its floppy ear. Sandrone makes an involuntary jolt, nudging Columbina.
"Oi, stop that," she whisper hisses at the kuuhenki, who quickly hides behind the bed, out of her swatting arm's reach.
"Stupid night light." Sandrone screws her eyes shut, deciding to ignore the creature.
She gives her final warning, muttering to her pillow: "Try that again and I'll tie you into a bow."
"Sandrone," Columbina mumbles in her sleep and every fibre of Sandrone's body turns rigid as Columbina nuzzles her face against her bosom, her hand sliding down Sandrone's thigh.
Thank the Gods her nightgown reaches all the way to her ankles. The gears in Sandrone's chest don't seem to know which way to move anymore and Sandrone stays still and as quiet as she can, ensuring Columbina won't stir again.
Her key ticks at its steady pace and she holds her breath, only then noticing she's threaded her fingers in Columbina's hair. The long strands feel smooth and light as Sandrone strokes her back a couple of times, purely for… the data.
The kuuhenki is gone as swiftly as it appeared, until Sandrone catches its glowing presence creeping near.
She snaps her eyes open, turning her head before the spirit can mess with her again.
"Don't you—" The kuuhenki flinches at her infuriated expression, now taking cover behind a decorative pillow it has picked up somewhere. It must be from Columbina's room, for she doesn't recognize it.
The kuuhenki approaches her then, almost as if offering her the pillow and Sandrone blinks.
"For me?"
That elicits a positive reaction, the wisp wiggling and nodding and Sandrone can't help but smile, before a strange sensation envelopes her. She gasps, her sensors alarming her about shifting gravity. For the briefest moment Sandrone is gently lifted by the kuuhenki, just so it may tuck the pillow to support her.
"Oh." Sandrone is relieved, immediately positioned much better.
"Could you.. bring one more?"
The kuuhenki does its little jump again and disappears with a spin, returning soon with another, bigger pillow and setting it for her to lean on. Sandrone appears to have miscalculated; the curious wisp is a lot smarter than she first assessed.
Now able to lie on her side without constantly focusing on keeping herself balanced, her muscles relax, and her little glowing helper floats behind Columbina.
"Thank you," Sandrone whispers, reaching to pat the wisp's lamp like head.
The kuuhenki isn't solid or completely vapor like, somewhere between mist and fuzz. Sandrone struggles to categorize the being at her fingertips. What is clear is that the spirit enjoys her attention, getting excited again, swishing itself against Columbina's white wings and making them twitch.
"Careful," Sandrone shields Columbina's head with her hand and elbows the kuuhenki a little farther. It bounces away, jumping back to Sandrone's side.
The kuuhenki lands close to her face and makes gentle contact with her cheek, mimicking a good-night kiss.
Then it it vanishes into thin air, leaving Sandrone blushing in the dark.
What in Focalors' name…?
She tugs Columbina a little closer, reloading and processing everything that happened in the past minute.
Clearly, the kuuhenkis spend far too much time in Columbina's company, adopting her incessant habits…