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The hallways of Mouseford Academy were a different world at night. With all energy from the day drained away, all that was left behind were the calmness of the cool evening breezes and the distant crashing of waves against the cliffs below.
Violet’s own footsteps were hushed on the polished marble as she made her weary way from the arts wing to the dorms. Professor Van Karken’s Advanced Marine Biology seminar, while tight-knit and productive, had left her more mentally and physically drained than ever. Having spent the past three hours intensely focused on the complex diagrams of cephalopod nervous systems that were still swimming behind her tired eyes, her shoulders were now in knots and her eyes strained. All she wanted to do now was to get changed into her soft pajamas, turn on a cozy light lamp, and feel the familiar, comforting softness of her bed when she finally gets to collapse on it.
A detour was necessary, however; one of Violet’s classmates had asked her to drop off the updated roster at the Lizard Club she would pass by on her way to the dorms. It was only slightly out of the way, and Violet would never dream of leaving it for next morning, so she swiftly approached the door and—
Huh?
There was a faint, blueish glow spilling from the gaps of the door. Someone was using the Lizard Club room at this hour? It’s highly unusual for the room to be occupied after official hours even with the president on watch, and Tanya told her she was thrilled to turn in early since no one was using it after noon today.
So who was in there, and what were they up to?
Curious and slightly concerned, she quietly pushed the door open just a crack: The room was bathed in the cool, shifting light of a large computer monitor. On the screen, a breathtaking time-lapse was being played of a bioluminescent fungal bloom in a dense rainforest, mycelial networks pulsing with soft green light like a subterranean galaxy. And curled up in the club’s most worn-but-comfortable armchair, wrapped in a green blanket with a familiar-looking gigantic stuffed hammerhead shark, was Nicky.
Her girlfriend was tucked into a tight ball, her chin resting on her knees, her wide eyes reflecting the shimmering images on the screen. She looked so small, so engrossed, and so definitely not in her dorm where she should have been.
Violet couldn't help but wear a soft, fond smile. She pushed the door open a little wider. “Nicky?”
Nicky jolted, spinning around in the chair so fast she almost sent the blanket flying. “Uh, hey! This isn’t what it looks like!” Her expression was the sheer definition of deer-in-headlights panic upon the intrusion.
Violet leaned against the doorframe, exhaustion momentarily forgotten at the adorable scene. “Oh? So you're not in fact wrapped in a blanket, having a meeting with Mother Nature in the Lizard Club room at ten thirty on a Tuesday night?”
“…Okay, maybe it is exactly what it looks like.” Nicky’s shoulders slumped in defeat, a faint blush visible even in the dim light. “Couldn’t sleep. Darn brain wouldn’t shut off; you know how it gets near exams week. Thought documentaries might help.”
Violet did know. All too well, in fact; the constant pressure of assignments, exchange expeditions, and social obligations as star students at a place as prestigious as Mouseford could make any mouse’s mind feel like an unopened shaken-up soda can once too overwhelmed, a ticking bomb waiting to burst at any moment. She let her satchel slide to the floor with a soft thud. “Tell me about it; my brain is currently a tangled mess of squid ganglia. Mind if I join you?”
“Sure! Plenty of blanket to share,” Nicky's face lit up, any guilt replaced entirely by pure relief and delight as she unpaused the documentary. She immediately shifted, uncurling her legs to make space on the wide armchair. “What happened to you, anyway? You look wrecked.”
“Charming as ever, Nicole,” Violet shook her head, though there was no bite to her words. Letting a file slide onto the table, she didn't need a second invitation before she sank into the chair with Nicky, their shoulders and legs pressing together comfortably. The warmth from her girlfriend’s side made it instantly soothing. “Melanie asked me to drop this by.”
Nicky immediately tucked the blanket around both of them, the shared warmth an instant balm. The scent of Nicky's strawberry shampoo and the faint, woody smell of the old clubroom filled Violet's senses, a combination that felt soothing like home. “So, nature documentaries?” Violet asked, leaning her head against Nicky’s shoulder, as a hummingbird drank from a vibrant flower mid-air on the screen.
“It's the narrator’s voice,” Nicky murmured, her own voice soft and gentle. “It's so calming. He knows exactly how different ant colonies are organized, and why the mantis shrimp sees colors we can't even imagine. There’s no surprises for him. It's just...well, all facts. Really cool ones too. ”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching the wonders of nature unfold, from the millennia-long growth of a bristlecone pine to the fleeting migration of monarch butterflies. With each passing minute, Violet could feel the tight coil of stress in her chest beginning to loosen. The stress from her day slowly all seemed to recede, washed away by the simple comfort of Nicky’s embrace.
Nicky spoke up during a segment on the symbiotic relationship between clownfish and sea anemones. “I was also...I missed you. You texted that you’ll be back later today, but the dorms still felt too quiet."
Violet gently lifted her head and pressed a soft kiss to Nicky’s temple. “I missed you too. Even if I had just gone straight back to the dorms, I’d have been too wound up to sleep anyway. This is much better.”
She felt Nicky smile against her hair.
As a deep-sea segment began, the screen filled with the navy blues and inky blackness of the abyss, punctuated by the otherworldly glows of anglerfish and giant siphonophores. The room was plunged into near-darkness, save for the eerie, beautiful lights from the monitor. The narrator’s voice dropped to a reverent hush.
“Today was a lot,” Nicky finally said during a transition to a new scene.
“Tell me,” Violet murmured, her eyes half-closed, “Not the big stuff. The little, annoying stuff that piles up.”
(She could listen to her talk forever.)
“My geology paper isn’t coming together right; the words say what I mean, but they feel all jumbled when I read the stuff out. And then I nearly wiped myself out on my skateboard because I was distracted thinking about it. Then I realized I’d forgotten to write my dad a thank-you message for the care package he sent, like, two weeks ago. Just…ugh, dumb little things. They all start buzzing in my head the second I turn off the lights. You?”
“Well, I spent my entire art class trying to perfectly mix the exact shade of magenta for an orchid petal. Two hours. For one color,” Violet sighed, “And I still wasn’t happy with it. It feels so silly and insignificant, but it just…things nags at you.”
“Yeah. We’ll get our things sorted out eventually, y’know? I’ll take a look at that magenta with you tomorrow.”
“Mm. And I can proofread your paper, if that’s what you’d like.”
In the intimate cocoon of darkness and shared warmth, Violet felt her eyelids grow impossibly heavy. The last thing she was consciously aware of was the feel of Nicky’s hand finding hers under the blanket, their fingers lacing together. Eventually, the narrator's voice became a distant, melodic rumble, the bioluminescent creatures on screen blurred into a soft watercolor painting behind her closed eyes, and the steady, reassuring rhythm of Nicky’s breathing beneath her ear lulled her the rest of the way into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Slowly, gently…
Nicky felt the exact moment Violet succumbed to sleep. The subtle tension finally left her body, and she went completely limp, her full weight settling against Nicky’s side, her head on her shoulder and long hair framing her face softly. Nicky smiled and paused the documentary, leaving the room in silence broken only by Violet’s soft, even breaths. She sat like that for a long while, just listening, just feeling, tracing through Violet’s features with her gaze, committing the peaceful expression to memory.
This was worth any amount of lost sleep.
Of course, Nicky knew they couldn't stay there all night. After plotting out a hypothetically doable plan in her head, Nicky slid one arm under Violet's knees and the other around her back, taking a steadying breath before lifting her in one smooth, careful motion.
Nicky settled into the bridal carry, adjusting her grip to make sure Violet's head was cradled securely against her shoulder. Violet mumbled something incoherent, nuzzling instinctively into the crook of Nicky's neck, but didn't wake. The trust inherent in the gesture made Nicky's heart swell further. She grabbed both their bags, hooking the straps over her forearm, and slipped out of the Lizard Club room, locking it behind her with the spare key she was technically entrusted with by Tanya as practically the club’s vice-president. The hallway was even quieter now, the only sound the soft scuff of her footsteps and Violet’s rhythmic breathing against her neck. The moon cast long, silvery shadows through the tall windows, painting a path for them through the sleeping academy.
She was about halfway to the dormitory wing on the staircase, mentally searching for the best way to open the door without jostling Violet, when a figure emerged from a connecting corridor. Nicky’s heart did a little leap of panic before her brain registered the familiar voice, round glasses and sleek, brown fur.
“Need a hand, Nicky?”
It was Shen, a stack of thick books tucked under his arm; he must have just been completing his studies at the library today. His sharp eyes widened slightly behind his glasses at the sight of them.
Nicky froze, feeling her cheeks heat up by the second. A sleeping Violet in her arms, both of them rumpled and wrapped in a blanket she’d hastily grabbed from the clubroom? This definitely looked like something it wasn’t.
“Uh, hey, Shen! This isn’t what it looks like…”
Shen’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile, his initial surprise melted into a look of profound amusement. “It looks like you’re being a good girlfriend, conducting a very hands-on study on the sleep patterns of overworked art students.” he said softly, his voice devoid of any teasing. “The dorm doors are still unlocked. Do you want me to get one for you?”
The relief that washed over Nicky was palpable. “Yes. Please. That would be…yeah. Thanks, dude.”
He nodded, swiftly and silently moving ahead of them. He shouldered open the heavy door to the girls’ dormitory hallway and held it, allowing Nicky to shuffle through with her precious cargo.
“Goodnight, Nicky,” he whispered. “Goodnight, Violet.”
“G’night, Shen,” Nicky whispered back, immensely grateful. “And…thanks. Really.”
He simply nodded again and let the door close silently behind her.
The hallway was empty and quiet. Nicky made the final journey to their door, managed to turn the knob without dropping her friend with a feat of acrobatic lock-picking, and sidled inside. She laid her girlfriend gently on the bed, carefully removing her shoes and pulling the comforter over her. Violet sighed in her sleep, burrowing into the pillow, a small, contented smile on her lips.
Violet stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open for a hazy second. “…Nicole? You’re so pretty…” she mumbled drowsily.
Nicky’s smile was the brightest thing in the dark room. “Yeah, Vi,” she whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead before carefully pressing her lips there. “So are you. Go back to sleep now, angel.”
And with a soft sigh, Violet did, a serene smile on her own face. Nicky stood there for a moment, watching her, all the annoyances and frustrations of the day completely forgotten, replaced by a deep, contented peace. The chaotic, unpredictable world of life itself felt infinitely more manageable when you had a cozy anchor, a shared blanket, and a partner to carry you home — quite literally — when you were too tired to walk.
It was, she thought, the most wonderful symbiosis of all.
The first thing Nicky registered was the scent.
Not the strawberry of her own shampoo, but the soft, clean jasmine and vanilla that always clung to Violet’s pillows. Consciousness returned not with a jolt, but as a slow, gentle tide. She was warm, incredibly comfortable, and there was a weight across her waist that felt perfectly right. Nicky blinked her eyes open, the morning light filtering through the window in Violet’s dorm room, casting everything in a soft, golden haze.
A part of her gained a better understanding of why her girlfriend liked to sleep in whenever possible.
And then she registered the weight on her chest and the silky strands of hair between her fingers. She was in Violet’s bed: More specifically, she was lying on her back, and Violet was curled into her side, head pillowed on her shoulder, one arm thrown loosely across her waist. Nicky’s own hand had, apparently of its own volition, been gently carding through Violet’s hair.
A slow, dopey smile spread across Nicky’s face. The events of the previous night came back in a warm, pleasant rush: the Lizard Club, the documentaries, Violet falling asleep on her, the bridal carry, the encounter with Shen...she must have been more exhausted than she thought after getting Violet settled. The memory of actually climbing into the bed herself was hazy; she likely just meant to sit for a moment, to ensure Violet was properly asleep, and had succumbed to her own fatigue.
(Not that she was complaining.)
She couldn't bring herself to mind. Not when Violet was so peaceful beside her. Carefully, so as not to wake her, Nicky lifted her hand and began to gently card her fingers through Violet’s soft, dark hair. It was a ritual she never tired of, a simple action that never failed to make her heart feel too big for her chest.
She didn't mind. Not one bit.
She continued her lazy, rhythmic caressing, a profound sense of peace settling over her. This was better than any documentary she could name. Violet made a soft, mumbling sound against her shoulder, nuzzling closer, but her eyes remained closed.
“...the symbiotic parameters…need to…to recalibrate…the nematocysts…”
Nicky’s smile broke into a silent laugh; Professor Van Kraken’s lecture had clearly left its mark. She leaned down, her lips close to Violet’s ear. “It’s okay, angel,” she murmured, her fingers still moving rhythmically through Violet’s hair. “The clownfish and the anemone have it all under control. No recalibrating needed until after breakfast, all later.”
A small, blissful sigh escaped Violet, and she relaxed even further into Nicky’s side, a faint smile touching her lips.
Nicky’s heart swelled. This was everything; this quiet, sleepy, utterly ridiculous but beautiful perfection. She was so lost in the moment, in the warmth and the softness and the sheer, overwhelming love for the one in her arms, that she missed the faint click of the door handle.
“Rise and SHINE, Violet! Before you strangle me to my grave, Nicky is mysteriously absent from her room to gosh knows where, so I’ve bravely taken it upon myself to—”
Pamela’s cheerful, booming voice cut off abruptly. She stood frozen in the doorway, her hand still on the knob, chocolate brown eyes wide with shock at the view. Her gaze swept from Nicky’s horrified expression, to her hand still tangled in Violet’s hair, to the two of them curled up together in Violet’s single bed.
(Nicky wanted to scream.)
If being seen by Shen simply felt awkward, Nicky’s brain now had short-circuited. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Pamela’s shock melted away much faster, however, her expression a comical mix of shock, dawning understanding, and immense amusement.
“I-good morning, Pam…?”
Pamela’s eyes darted from Nickyʼs utterly flustered face, to Violet still fast asleep on her chest, to Nickyʼs hand tangled in Violet's hair. A slow, wicked grin began spreading across her face.
“Well, well, well,” You could see Pamela put two and two together internally as her voice dropped to a theatrical whisper, albeit still far too loud for the serene morning. “So this is where you disappeared to. Coco was about to launch a full-scale search party to get you perform your usual ‘wake-up-Violet-hopefully-without-casualties’ duties,” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “I see you found a...much more hands-on method.”
Nickyʼs face felt like it could power a lighthouse the way her eye twitched. “I can explain—”
“Explain what?” Pamela interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “The efficacy of cuddle-based alarm clocks? It seems to be working remarkably well for her,” She chuckled at the still-sleeping Violet. “Though, not so much for you. You look just like I just caught my baby siblings with a paw in my cookie jar.”
“Pam, I, we…it’s not—” Nickyʼs face now felt hotter than the desert sun. She desperately tried to sit up, but Violet, disturbed by the voices, only tightened her grip around Nicky’s waist with a disgruntled murmur. “This ainʼt — Vi, please — this isn’t what it looks like…”
Pamela let out a delighted laugh at Nicky’s weak rebuttal, quickly covering her mouth when Violet grumbled in her sleep. “Oh, I think it’s exactly what it looks like, ya big genius,” she whispered, winking. “And it’s ‘bout time, really. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Mostly.” She leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying the scene far too much than Nicky’s preference.
“Pam, I…”
“Alright, no more joking; I’ll give y’all ten more minutes, then I’m comin’ back with cold water and complete ignorance of my fate with your...well, good ol’ roommate, lying here. Both of you have class at nine.”
With a final, triumphant smirk, Pamela pulled the door shut, leaving Nicky in the suddenly much brighter and very exposed room, with a still-sleeping Violet clinging to her. Sighing, she let her head fall back against the pillow with a soft thud, a groan of utter embarrassment mingling with a breathless laugh at the returning bliss.
Violet, disturbed by the commotion, finally began to stir properly. “...Nicky? Was that Pam?” She lifted her head blearily, fingers drawing circles on her otherʼs arm. “Why is your face all red?”
Nicky just shook her head, pulling Violet into a tight hug, hiding her burning face in her girlfriendʼs hair.
“...what time is it?”
“Dunno, don’t care; I just wanna cuddle…”
The chaotic, unpredictable world of university life was back in full force once more. But as she held Violet close, listening to her soft, waking breaths, Nicky decided with absolute certainty that she wouldn't have it any other way.
Classes could wait.
Violet was the only syllabus she wanted to study today, anyway.