The world ends, again—-

Except it doesn’t.

The Earth turns on without quitting, time ticks by, weeks pass after worms at large try to gobble their world whole while husbands go — not ******** missing — not that, not technically that? But what else can he call his fiery boy getting fridged deep into a pantry so special that even he’s apparently not welcome there? He’s sure there’s ‘No Waru’ signs and everything.

And he could ruminate on his feelings surrounding that, chew on it all till he wore his teeth to nubs. But he was trying to be better — less rabid, at least.

And so Waru wasn’t clocking Noas excitement to meet up with him as anything strange or extra, or— No, for them it was just going to be another Sunday. One where she had a revelation worth sharing and he wanted to be a part of it because he could use the break — as always — from his own damn self. He lived for every new chance to revel in whatever the others were doing, piling distraction atop distraction, but was it really even right to call it that? When he was simply doing his part to maintain long held friendships; watering his friendship garden as it were.

Noa wasn’t an excuse out of his responsibilities — they didn’t need excuses to see each other. They were friends, doing friend things, being friendly —

So he was early for a change, goody-bag in hand, smile on his face as he knocked all cordially and s**t. He told himself he was bringing this for her because the pastry place was on the way, because sweet champagne paired well with sweet desserts, because he and Noa deserved nice things.

They’d both more than earned it.

Plus? What better way to celebrate a surprise!!