(Little Nightmares) Lost in Your Arms

The Couch

They run into the rainy street once more, the long stretches of dead concrete leading to nowhere still ever present. After everything they've been through, woods, schools, hospitals, an apartment complex doesn't sound all that bad. As they run up the stairs, Six notices something strange about the boy. He was breathing much louder than before, groaning every time they stopped moving. He was tired, but didn't voice his complaints. As they look at the dead viewer, the boy looks towards the window above the corpse. It was an exit, a chance to keep moving. However, Six chose to look at the dilapidated couch instead. It wasn't the smartest place to sleep, it wasn't the safest place to sleep, hell, it wasn't even the nicest place to sleep. Yet, as she looks at the boy, she feels a pang of sadness. He wheezes quietly, like his throat is dry and hurt.
She tugs on his shoulder and points at the couch. He shakes his head, pointing at the window instead, the heavy downpour being all too familiar to the city's open streets. Six tugs on his shoulder, harder this time, pointing back at the couch. He looks at her, his hollow eyes still unnerving Six. He points back at the window, using his fingers to mimic two people jumping through the window. Six points back at the couch, using her hands to mimic a pillow as she pretends to sleep on her imaginary pillow. The boy sighs weakly, nodding as he walks to the couch. She smiles, the darkness of the apartment hiding her toothy grin.
The boy makes his way to the couch, grunting in pain as he climbs onto the brown cushions. Six joins him, not out of any necessity though. As he lays his back on the couch, Six sits next to him. Being so close to him, having their hands graze each other but never fully touch, it was weird. It feels wrong.
Six's mind engages in another battle, the debate topic a constant issue for Six. In the meantime her partner dozes off quietly, using his downtime to his full advantage. Then, suddenly, his head droops onto Six's shoulder. His cardboard bag makes first contact, the outline of his head fitting itself nicely into the crevice of Six's neck.
She gasps, confused by the sudden movement. The sleeping boy has chosen Six to be his pillow. She's confused, a little uncomfortable, and totally out of her element. Should she wake him up? Shove him off, make him sleep elsewhere? It's her fault that he's sleeping, shouldn't she take responsibility and let him sleep on her? She tilts her head slightly, trying to move herself away from the boy. This only makes things worse as his head sags further. At any rate, his head will end up on her lap; she'd die of embarrassment if that happened.
She allows the sleepy boy to rest his head on her shoulder, deciding the best course of action is to rest with him. Her skin is covered in goosebumps as her mind races with thoughts of escaping. Life has dealt her these cards, so she must play. Of course, Six is horrible at poker, so this is run-of-the-mill bull crap for her.

When she wakes up, her eyes open to reveal a terrifying sight. Their hands... are intertwined! She jerks her hand away and looks at the boy, him looking just as shocked and embarrassed as Six is. He rubs his neck nervously, using his other hand to move over a few paces. She looks at him with irritance, but it quickly fades. They need to keep moving, even if things are a little awkward. She hurries and jumps through the window, the heat in her hand dissipating as the rain hits her.