One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Day 3,4,&5 (RMS)

(Kinda old, but not)

Hi! Here is day three and four of the roommates story, which is what RMS means, if you haven't guessed. :D I've been working on my writing really hard, and nonstop, too, so I hope you like it, cuz I probably won't be rewriting this ish. :)

Oh, and I put day five here because days four and five were both short, so I did that to add some length and kinda keep things even, y'know?

Welp, on to the story!

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Nightmare woke up around six, two hours before his first class, and a few minutes before Cross did. He rolled out of bed, grumbling tiredly as he rubbed at his bruised eye. He hadn't slept well at all. He'd spent an unknown amount of time thinking about Cross and his numerous problems that seemed to all stem from his bothersome family. The sky had been brightening by the time Nightmare finally blacked out.

He glared into his closet, cursing at the lack of clothing. He needed to go shopping soon, but he didn't want to. Maybe he could get Dream to buy stuff for him since the cheerful skeleton had practically memorized his clothing preference and could accurately guess his size. He ended up tugging a sweater on and switching his sweats for shorts. After taking a few moments to stretch, Nightmare yawned and left his room in favor of going downstairs. He found a cup of cold tea on the table, frowning at the reminder of past events. He really didn't like Cross's family. Everything he's found out about them only served to disgust and anger him. It made him sick to know that such people existed, not only in Cross's life but many others. It was revolting.

Nightmare pushed the thoughts away, taking the drink and dumping it in the sink. It washed away a small splatter of blue that had probably been left behind by Cross's knife. The sight reminded him of the wrapped injury, which led to the pain of the gash registering. He grit his teeth, hand clenching. He needed to change the bandages. Nightmare pulled back his sleeve, eyeing the bloodied gauze on his arm. How had he forgotten about it? It hurt like a bitch, and the white of the plaster was impossible to miss against the black. Annoying. Cross was definitely the better choice for redressing his wound. If Nightmare did it, he'd probably end up worsening the damage. He let his sleeve fall, deeming it better to wait until Cross woke up.

In the meantime, he should probably make breakfast. He hoped Cross didn't mind potatoes and eggs. He'd walked in a full circle by the time he realized he had no idea where anything was. Nightmare decided to wing it and started opening and closing random cabinets. By the time he'd set plates of hot food on the table, Nightmare heard a door open and close, along with water running. He swiftly took a mug and filled it to the brim with Cross's favorite chocolatey monstrosity, carrying it up the stairs(with more caution than he knew was necessary) to Cross's room. He knocked loudly, and carefully opened the door, stepping in with the cup held out. "Cross?"

The bathroom door opened, and out came the smaller skeleton, gaze downcast as he shuffled forward, seemingly unaware of Nightmare's presence. Before Nightmare could announce himself, his eye darted to the other's arms, which were completely wrapped. He spotted more on Cross's thighs and blinked in confusion. He could faintly see hints of purple dotting various places on the bandages, and any words he had died on his tongue. A strangled sound left him, alerting Cross. The startled boy jerked in place, head shooting up and eyes locking onto Nightmare's face. In a split second of shared eye contact, panic and embarrassment sparked like a flame, and Nightmare averted his eye as Cross dove towards his bed, snatching a hoodie and pants.