Fingertips traced across a barren bed sheet, longing for space to be filled. Blaze lay flat on her back, eyes locked upon a dark ceiling, the room was so much darker without him. Her eyelids felt heavy, she'd unleashed more yawns than she could count, yet, try as she might sleep refused to claim her. No matter how she twisted, no matter how she turned, comfort was out of reach. She'd bundle the covers close only to throw them away and build a tower of pillows only to fell it, all in the effort of finding the right position. Nightwear had been swapped three times, she'd undone and redone her ponytail more times than she could count and it'd only served to irritate her. Following her last attempt, she lay with her hair down, garbed in what she'd thought was a comfortable grey nightshirt and loose fitting black shorts. Instead, their baggy material kept dragging against the covers and she could feel her fur hitching against the fabric.
She rolled onto her right, burying her cheek against a pillow and closing her eyes, but she knew the effort was in vain. The pillow's dead comfort couldn't compare to his fur, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his heartbeat behind it. Blaze's fingertips etched the place he would lie, quills taking up so much of the pillow she'd make do with his chest. Before he'd lain there, she hadn't noticed how large and empty this bed was. It may have been queen sized but it didn't fit her lonely frame, no matter the position she took. Without Silver, the bed felt cold, not in the sense of temperature but in that it was devoid of comfort. To think he had such an effect on her, she hadn't recalled him until a few months prior and now she couldn't sleep without him. No one to share her warmth with, no spindly quills to rearrange and cyan glow to cloak her form. Equally, he couldn't wrap his arms around her and gently lower his chin to crown her head. All she had left was his lingering scent, an imagined likeness to cling to and memories of his sleepy murmurings. Much too little to be grateful for, yet it was all she had.
Blaze shifted to hug her pillow; his sleepy words replayed in her head, it was so easy to envision their entangled position. She'd be, gently, clawing through his fur chest fur when his breath would catch on her ear. He'd mutter something, pulling her tighter into his embrace. Something akin to, "You're so warm," Or "I need you closer," Or even just, "Please Blaze…"
He was begging to hold her more than sleep, longing to comfort and be comforted. He wasn't forward enough to kiss casually yet but, more often than not, she'd grant him one as payment for his comfort. A peck on the cheek or the brush of her lips on his, rarely something deeper, it was always enough to embarrass him. Even in the cyan low light she'd see his blush, feel his temperature spike and allow his frame to melt into hers. She'd bury her face in his chest, be it a cheek or her forehead, and succumb to his gentle touch. His hand would wrap around her shoulders or perhaps the base of her spine, her tail would coil around him and soon her gentle rumbles would flare into a roaring purr. A sound that she'd be embarrassed by any other time yet, laying here, that rumbling would ease her to sleep.
Blaze hadn't purred since he'd left. Her eyes cracked open, his imagined form vanishing. Stiff, cold and lonely; three words to describe her bed without him. It wasn't that he'd wanted to leave, nor had she wanted him to, but they were bound to their duties. She was the ruler and guardian of her own dimension, a linchpin in her world's civilisation. He came from the far-flung future of another world, ever focused on undoing the past's mistakes and making it a brighter place to live. It was inevitable that they'd spend time apart, she just… didn't think it'd affect her like this. She'd expected to toss and turn a little but she was up well past the twilight hour, debating yet another change in wardrobe.
Rolling over, yet another fruitless effort, Blaze brought her knees to her chest. Time travel meant he could leave, spend a week in his time and return to her the very same day but, of course, that wasn't realistic. If Silver kept doing that their ages would diverge. The first few times it might not have been noticeable but there were 200 years between the calamities and his time. There was so much space for so much to go wrong; it might take years for his endeavour to pay off, it wasn't as though he could find a calamity's cause in a single day. For him to be old and worn while she was youthful? Neither of them could stand that, if they took that path then he would die long before her. So they'd agreed on terms; for every day Silver spent in the future he'd return a day later than his departure. That way not only would their ages synch but their pining would be mutual, it was a balanced absence.
She groaned, flipping again and burying her head deeper against the pillows. His departure replayed in his mind. The sol emeralds had cast a portal, a gateway to his desired destination, but they must have spent an hour standing before it. He'd cried first of course but as they'd embraced and her own barriers had crumbled. Tearstained kisses marked the goodbye, his departure from safety and return to a ravaged world. She trusted he'd return, she was confident in his abilities, but that didn't keep a small worry from brewing within her. If this lasted more than a week she'd surely be awake out of worry rather than the mere lack of comfort. Would she admit that she'd been restless? Not until he did, ten times at least. Blaze recalled her final gift to him, that it should limit their separation at least a little. Search as she might, the thought of his quick return was the only comfort she could find. That and knowing he'd keep their final promise.
His head buried deeper into his pillow, damp bed sheets were pulled taught around his soggy white frame. Try as he might, toss and turn, he couldn't settle. There was a crack in the ceiling above him, droplets of rain sneaking through it to gather as a puddle in the centre of the room. A storm was wailing outside, the howling of rain and the cracking of thunder an inescapable constant. Important as his task was, Silver certainly hadn't missed these nights. Being holed up in a broken abode, destructive forces raging outside, was a reality he'd escaped for a good few months.
Fingers dragged through his matted white chest fur, an unshakable damp and humidity were treating it like a sponge. He wasn't sure why, he still hadn't uncovered any records, but this world had flooded many years ago. The tips of skyscrapers stood as islands on a raging sea but, beyond them, he hadn't managed to find any sign of civilisation. None of the buildings he'd found had been fit for use, all of them waterlogged and exposed, but his creation wasn't much better. He'd taken the scraps from some of those buildings and used them to construct his hovel, a jagged mesh of metal frames and makeshift brickwork he'd built atop a worn landing pad. Though he was safe from much of the rain the materials he'd built this box from were wet, though he'd wrung much of the water from a mattress he'd discovered it still squelched beneath him, thus his shelter offered no real warmth. It smelt of damp too and some kind of rot maybe? Regardless of what it was, Silver couldn't stand it.
He closed his eyes, heaving a sigh; he missed the scent of burnt lavender and the person it brought to mind. The sob of rain was deafening, though he'd come to enjoy its gentle pitter-patter on rooftops this was far too much. He'd grown accustomed to her purr gently rocking him to sleep, the torrential sound didn't come close to filling the void it left. Even deafened, he still clung to his imagined version of that sound; how its tempo would shift with their shared movements, dragging out as she nuzzled into his chest and growing louder with each and every touch. Her ears in particular, or, well, the top and back of her head as a whole; with every touch the sound would be augmented, growing from a murmur to a roar.
Kicking off the covers, Silver sat up straight; drawing a cold hand through his soggy quills, parting them enough to see. His cyan light was spread through the abode's entirety, but wherever it met water the light would refract and change to create bizarre patterns. The hovel had no door, when he'd properly rested he'd break apart this box and fly someplace else; searching for information, the cause of the calamity. The sooner he managed that, the sooner he could return to Blaze, but with the world being submerged the hedgehog doubted it'd be easy. The world's newspapers were long destroyed, electronics were fried and there were no survivors.
Mere minutes after they'd first reunited, when they remembered the life they'd shared, Silver knew this would happen. He'd learned of her status, her position in her world, well before those memories had returned. If she left someone could claim the sol emeralds and wreak havoc across both her world and his. Returning upon an agreed date was possible but an exact time, trying to land not a moment after leaving? They could try but the odds were that they'd be absent for a number of hours, granting the likes of Eggman Nega an opportunity to snatch the Sol Emeralds. Bringing them with her was even more dangerous, risking their fusion with the chaos emeralds and thus their destruction. Regardless, the rationale behind their separation hadn't made parting any easier.
The hedgehog crawled to the other side of his bed, hearing it squelch as he made his way across. His position seemed to make little difference, the damp was inescapable, but he had to give sleep his best shot. It was hard to imagine this box as her bedroom, the rusted springs poking through his mattress and rebar poking through the walls were hardly comparable to her bookshelves and bedposts, but he had to make do. Closing his eyes he tried to imagine her bed, the silky feel of her fur and the comfortable rumbling of her purr; curling into a ball in an attempt to warm himself.
His hand came up to graze beyond his chest fur; his fingers lingered upon her parting gift. She'd burned him, leaving a mark too small and thin to call a brand on the right side of his neck, and had him make a promise. As long as that mark remained he could stay in the future, searching out the cause of the apocalypse and planning ways to undo it, but the moment that mark faded he was to drop everything and make his way back to her. If he didn't already have a chaos emerald he was to begin searching, if he did he was to make the necessary preparations and leave as quickly as he could.
Silver was unsure how long Blaze's mark would last, he assumed no longer than a month, but regardless of how long it did he was grateful for it. Blaze clearly knew he'd work himself to the bone; he'd come back in a far worse state than he'd left. She wanted to limit the damage, try to make sure he came back to her in one piece. They were self-sacrificing by nature, they'd given up so much of their lives trying to help people, but struggled to endure seeing that trait in each other.
After it'd been left, she'd soothed that burn with a kiss; continuing to murmur sweet nothings about how they'd soon reunite. As he stroked that spot Silver could almost feel the presence of her lips, its reminder warming him from the heart outward. Cradling that spot, he'd eventually fall into a fitful sleep; dreaming of a space and time far beyond his reach.