"Sorry!" I instinctively moved to clean the mess I'd created but didn't get very far.

I reeled back once the full force of the potion's aroma hit me. My nostrils burned and my eyes stung as the sickly sweet and acidic mixture quickly filled the room. I coughed, stumbling away from the mess and waving a hand in front of my face.

"Get back from there." Kaeya pulled me away by the shoulder, and I happily obliged.

No amount of distance made much of a difference, and I used part of the blanket to mask the lower half of my face. My lungs shuddered as another cough took over.

"Oh gods," I wheezed. "What's going to happen to us?"

Kaeya grimaced, pulling the collar of his shirt up to his nose. "I've never had this happen before, so I wouldn't be able to tell you. Aromatic potions are only ever meant to be used in small amounts. A spill like this may cause more than illusions."

"Is it lethal?"

"Probably not."

I gawked at him. "Probably?"

"We're more likely to experience a migraine rather than death. Lucky for us, the window is still open. Although, we're going to need a lot more than a window to be in the clear." Kaeya stifled a cough. "To avoid prolonged exposure, I need to get this cleaned up."

A wave of guilt hit me as I watched him stagger across the room, but that was easily overcome by acute paranoia growing by the second. The burning sensation in my eyes lessened to an uncomfortable tingle, and my eyes darted around the room.

When would the illusions start showing up? What would I see? For intruders, Kaeya said the illusion potion would make them see what they wanted—what they were searching for. I kept a close eye on everything around me, but there was no change in anything.

Kaeya reached his wardrobe but didn't move to open it. Instead, he stared at the wood with a slackened expression.

I approached his side. "Kaeya? What's wrong?"

"Do you see my wardrobe?"

"It's right in front of you."

He tentatively reached out, fingers twitching when they touched wood. "I can't see it." Kaeya rubbed at his nose and blinked hard. "There's a towel inside we can use to wipe up the mess, but if I can't even see…"

"I'll do it," I volunteered. "It was my mistake, so it's only fair that I take care of it."

He frowned. "You'll have to be careful, the glass—"

"Believe me, I've suffered a lot worse than a few cuts to the hand. I'll try my best not to get sliced, but it's more important that I get this done as soon as possible."

"It's not that. The glass has made contact with the potion. I'm fairly certain we're at no risk by inhaling the fumes, but if a single drop were to get in your bloodstream…the infirmary is quite a distance from here." Kaeya spared me a warning look. "An illusion would be the least of our worries."

"I'll keep that in mind." I shuddered and passed the blanket over for Kaeya to hold. "Now, where's the towel?"

Kaeya instructed me to open the correct drawer and select the towel by color. There were only two options—white and navy. With the white, fluffy towel in hand, I carefully approached the spilled potion and knelt down beside the rug.

Upon contact, the towel immediately began to soak up the silvery liquid, turning the fabric a dull grey. Light scraping sounds were made as I scooped up the glass, and a grimace twisted my face. The smell was far worse this close, but I couldn't let that slow me down. Taking care not to let any of the sharp bits poke through, I held the dirtied towel at an arm's length and stood.

I felt lightheaded.

"Where should I put this?"

Kaeya pointed to the foot of his desk. "There should be a bin there."

"Should be?" I angled my head and saw that there was, in fact, a trash bin.

"I can't see it," he said with a frown. "Can you?"

I nodded and lifted the lid with a weak hand before plopping the towel in. A light sheen still covered the area where the bottle had broken, but there wasn't much else I could do about it now. Hopefully, anything potent quickly evaporated into the night air.

"Things are disappearing in your vision," I stated. "I thought an illusion conjured things—not took them away."

"The effect on each person is unpredictable. What about you?" Kaeya peered at me. "Anything abnormal?"

Unlike Kaeya, I could still see his wardrobe and trash bin. Though I felt mildly dizzy, there was some relief now that no more potions crowded his desk. The less opportunity for disaster—the better.

Wait. Since when were there no potions?

"They're gone," I gulped and pointed to his desk. "All of your potions."

Kaeya took a step back. "So is my desk."

Alarm pricked at my neck as I surveyed his room a second time. The trash bin I had just used was no more. The wardrobe remained, but I couldn't say the same for his rug or bed. Even Kaeya's board of evidence had disappeared. A slight movement caught my wide eyes, and I turned to see the door—the exit—begin to splinter.

It didn't splinter like normal wood, though. As though it were made of glass, the door fragmented into spiderweb cracks before exploding in a shower of marbles that melted into the floor. Only a stone wall was left behind.

"Your door is gone," I whispered.

Kaeya spun around. "What? No, it's still—gone. It's gone."

"Only in our minds, right? You touched your wardrobe earlier even though you couldn't see it. The door still exists. This is just an illusion."

Kaeya slowly walked to the invisible door, lifting a hand to grasp where the doorknob would have been. His fist closed around nothing, but he looked back at me with a nod. It seemed as though he mimed the action of opening a door, and I held my breath. Only the wall remained. With some hesitation, Kaeya stuck his arm out.

It went straight through the wall.

"Leaving is an option," he murmured and shut the door. "Still, we should stay put. Considering the state of our minds, we'd likely cause injury to ourselves or damage school property if out in the open."

I sighed in relief, grateful we weren't stuck six stories up.

A cold gust of wind wooshed in. The stench of the potion had faded somewhat, but the illusion was going strong. Kaeya held the blanket out to me again—at least that was still visible—and I hadn't even noticed the goosebumps this time.

Tucking the soft material around me, I reached out a hand to touch where his desk had once been. I felt blind doing so, but my hand eventually made contact with the hard surface. "This is weird."

"It is. Disappearing furniture…I've never tested the potion on myself before, but this isn't the outcome I would have expected. And for you to experience the same…how curious."

"Maybe it expired?"

"Not possible. As long as they're stored properly, potions have a shelf life lasting over a decade."

"How long until everything goes back to normal?" I rubbed at my temple, the disorientation only getting worse. "If we're still like this by morning, going to class isn't an option. Do you have anything that can reverse it?"

"No, though I'll make sure to stock up on something like that in the future."

I leaned on the desk to steady myself. How did Kaeya manage to stand upright?

"Where did you get all of these potions, anyway?"

"Alchemy class. There is a stronger focus on crafting potions to enhance battle performance, but I prefer crafting what's useful outside of combat."

"You made all of," I gestured to the nothingness. "These?"

"So will you, one day." The look he gave me was thoughtful, but that quickly soured the moment his eye flicked past my shoulder. "There goes my bed."

I shrugged. His bed was long gone to me.

At this point, not even the blanket was enough to keep me warm. I glared at the window only to see that there was no window or curtains. Stone covered what I knew to be an open face in the wall. Turning back, I saw that his wardrobe was gone.

The room had completely emptied out.

"It's just you and me," I said flatly. A scary realization hit me, and I wish it hadn't. "What if we start disappearing? What if you just poof into nothing?"

Kaeya's pondering frown shifted to one of denial. "That wouldn't—" he paused.

This illusion stuff was weird—creepy, even—but at least I wasn't in it alone. Kaeya was affected just like me, and though I knew he'd still technically be here, I really didn't want him to turn into marbles.

"If I can no longer see you," he said after a moment. "I could still hear your voice. We can locate each other by sound. Staying in one spot would also be ideal."

I nodded slowly, hoping the dizziness would go away soon.

"Are you tired?"

"Huh?" I blinked through the fog. "Oh, I guess you could say that."

Kaeya pointed to empty space, but I remembered the layout of his room. That's where his bed was. "There's not much else to do but get what little sleep we can. You can have my bed."

Sleep sounded wonderful right now, but what about him?

"I'll sleep on the floor." He read my expression and was already walking over to the invisible bed. His hands patted around before grasping something. "A blanket and pillow will do for me. With a rug as soft as mine, I should put it to use."

"No," I said immediately. "That's ridiculous. The window is open and cold air sinks. You'll be frozen by sunrise. And don't say some nonsense about Cryo Visions. You're not immune to the cold, Kaeya."

His hands released the blanket and pillow, and I imagined them landing on his bed. Crossing his arms, Kaeya looked at me expectantly.

"What do you suggest, then?"

What did I suggest? We both needed rest after the long day, and leaving his room wasn't a safe option. Given that there was only one bed…I opened my mouth to suggest that I sleep on the rug instead but decided against it. That would make me a hypocrite, and something told me that Kaeya would argue even harder.

There was only one option.

"We could share the bed."

"Is that what you want?"

Isn't that what Kaeya had been trying to do over these past few months? His flirtations used to be accompanied by genuine concern over my dreams, and I had considered his company on a few occasions. But that was before. Before, being this close would have been a luxury. Now, it was a necessity.

Or so I told myself.

I abandoned the support of the desk and straightened my spine. "Yes."

"Alright then," his throat bobbed. "So we share."

Kaeya remained where he stood, and I realized he was waiting for me to make the first move.

It was much easier to stand than walk even though the bed was mere paces away. The dizziness coupled with reaching for an invisible bed was a challenge. I held my hands out to feel for something, but the movement caused me to stagger. I was close to falling—likely onto the floor—but I didn't. I righted myself just in time with only a small dash of embarrassment.

A gentle hand on my back startled me, but I didn't jolt. Kaeya was the only other one here, so I knew it was him. The comfort his presence provided only doubled with his touch, and he silently led me to where the bed actually was.

"Thanks."

The moment my knees knocked into the soft mattress, Kaeya drew his hand away. I hesitated for longer than intended before climbing in. It's not that I was nervous to be in the same bed as him, absolutely not. It's not that I was hyper-aware of Kaeya walking around to the other side, ready to join me. The sensation that gripped my chest at this moment was…the oddity of lying in an invisible bed. Yes, that was it.

Four walls, the floor, and two people. The setting was eerie, so eerie that I could be dreaming right now. It looked like we were floating in a room full of nothing. In what world would Kaeya actually have allowed me in his room and offered his bed after turning me down barely a week ago?

At least my nerves were balanced out by the relief of finally being warm. The added blankets made a difference, and it was only my face that felt the chilled air. As soon as the mattress dipped with Kaeya's weight, even my face was kissed with warmth.

Tucking my arms in, I quietly turned on my side and faced away from Kaeya. Normally, I slept on my right, but the left would have to do.

Forcing myself to take measured breaths, I tried to let my mind wander. Where was the drowsiness? When could I become blissfully unaware of his body next to mine? Locating each other by sound was unnecessary when I had to fight the pull of the additional heat he provided.

Time seemed to stretch forever, and my heart continued to flutter.

Could I still see Kaeya? Would his body be visible if I turned around?

I took a chance and rolled over as subtlety as possible.

He was also on his side, facing away from me.

"Why can I still see you?" I breathed. "Why you and nothing else?"

Silence greeted me. Was Kaeya already asleep? It made sense if he was.

Disappointment bloomed in my chest, though I wasn't sure why. I wanted him to get rest as much as I wanted for myself. I should be glad Kaeya was asleep instead of agonizing over the small space separating us.

I wished I didn't care as much as I did.

"I don't know."

His voice was low and quiet, but definitely awake. Aware.

My pulse jumped at his response, and the next thing I knew, he had turned around. Kaeya looked at me, not through me. He could still see me too, then. We were immune to the disappearing act only to each other. What made us special?

"You're still wearing your eyepatch," was what I said instead.

Kaeya rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. A soft smile quirked on his lips—the first I'd seen in what felt like forever. "I wasn't exactly given the opportunity to change into my sleepwear. That would be indecent."

"Since when did you care about decency?"

I'd meant to address his attire, but my words came out sharp. Personal. Wounded. My throat tightened, and as much as I wanted to turn away, I didn't. I watched Kaeya and silently dared him to feign sleepiness.

"If you disappeared in front of me at this very moment," he said, changing the subject. "I wouldn't be worried."

Before I could even begin to feel hurt, Kaeya continued.

"I wouldn't worry because I'd know you're still here. I'd know it by the scent of inteyvat that lingers wherever you go. I'd know it by your courage, so strong it could be tangible."

Were my eyes playing tricks on me, or was Kaeya…blushing? The odds that this was a dream just skyrocketed.

"Lumine," he spoke softer and turned to face me once more. "I'd know you're still here because that's who you are. Though your judgment is sometimes questionable, you're stubborn and refuse to abandon what you believe in—who you believe in."

The fact that he'd just questioned my judgments in other people…in him…maybe this wasn't a dream after all.

Kaeya was real. This was real.

"I lied earlier when I said I didn't know why you could still see me—why I could still see you. I have a theory."

"Of course, you do." I found myself smiling.

"When used as intended, the potion creates an illusion of what you wish to see. With the strong concentration we inhaled, the potion could have changed our minds to not see anything we didn't care to see."

Was this Kaeya admitting the truth of his feelings? I dared to let myself hope again.

"Or," I paused. "The potion did its job and showed us what we wanted. Maybe it worked so well, what we wanted was the only thing left to see. Potionmaking is a science, isn't it? Science doesn't lie."

He chuckled lightly. "I can't argue with that."

"What, the science part or the—"

"Everything. I can't argue with you, Lumine. This…this distance that I put between us because I thought it was for the better—I was wrong. I lied to you that day in the mailroom, and it's been a long time since I've regretted anything more."

Gone was the light tone from before, replaced with sincerity and shame.

"Pain is the last thing I'd ever want for you, and yet I caused it." He closed his eyes for a moment as if remembering the scene. "Not for the first time, I had something precious and let it wither. I watched you go, let you hurt, and knew it wasn't right. History repeating itself isn't an option. You were right—I was too young back then, but not anymore."

He averted my gaze.

I held my breath, waiting for more, but I had to ask, "What are you saying?"

I had to hear him be completely honest about everything. The past week has been less than ideal, and I wasn't sure if I could handle another uncertainty.

"Enjou's threat had one upside, just one. It forced me to realize that I need you in my life. I need you to be safe, to see your smile, to wake up knowing I can be there for you the way you are for me. I haven't had much luck with forgiveness before, but I'm asking for it now."

Kaeya looked at me with tender vulnerability, and I knew there was nothing to doubt.

My spirits lifted, and it confused me how he couldn't tell that I never gave up. The door was always open for him, all he had to do was step through.

"I'm not going anywhere, Kaeya." My voice was steady. "And don't you dare let me go again."