"Ivy, don't add the honey until the tea's cooled down a bit, you'll ruin it's health benefits."
Dunking a spoon into the jar, Ivy sighed, withdrawing a large rounded scoop of honey. "I'm not drinking this for health benefits. I'm just trying to fall asleep," she replied to the ghost hovering over the counter who was frowning down at her tea.
"Will it really work? It's just a bunch of flowers, I don't see how that can make you sleep," Dustyn asked, furrowing his brows.
"Of course it will," the witch answered matter-of-factly, "Mom always made this when I couldn't sleep as a kid. It's not just tea. It's a spell." The sound of the spoon clanking against the glass rang through the darkened house, cutting through the silence. "The honey just makes it tolerable."
Dustyn hummed, a hand running through white hair as Ivy walked to her room and climbed into bed, blowing the steam as she mumbled an incantation he couldn't understand. As always, the boy followed like her shadow, laying over the empty side of the bed, but leaving no imprint. He hid how much this bothered him, rolling over to face her as she cupped the hot tea in her hands, taking small sips.
"Is it working?"
"Soon."
He waited a second. "Now?"
"I have to finish the whole glass first, it's too hot," she snapped back, not so much annoyed as just being exhausted, her current bout of insomnia having lasted over a week at this point.
The boy was silent now, watching her quietly sip at the tea until it was finally dry. Placing the cup on the end table, she slid down into the bed and pulled the covers to her chin, her milky eyes and red hair the only part of her peeking out. She stared blindly up at the ceiling.
"Do you want me to leave? Or should I read you a bedtime story?" he teased.
"Shut up, you're too loud," she bit back, pulling the cover over her whole head now.
"Huh, why not? I know some good stories!" he retorted, propping himself up on his elbow. She didn't argue this time. "Okay, once upon a time, there was a spoiled princess with red hair, and a chivalrous prince," he paused, waiting for her to stop him, but was met with silence again. "Ivy?" he asked, leaning over her outline under the blanket. "Are you ok?"
When she didn't answer, he reached to pull back the blankets, wanting to check, but phased right through them. Arceus damn it all.
"She's asleep," his sister said, making him jump.
"Stop coming up out of nowhere," he scolded.
The white haired girl crossed her arms, appearing on the opposite end of the room. "Stop bugging Ivy and let her sleep. If you won't let her sleep, stop eating all of her energy."
"I'm not--" she glared at him, and he corrected himself, "that's her choice..."
"So let her sleep," she ordered. What a bossy younger sister. But her expression softened. "She's not dead, I promise."
Dustyn frowned. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately, but he leaned back down, dropping off his elbow and again laying in the bed. He would "sleep" there. Like always. A presence to fill the emptiness-- yet somehow-- perhaps a greater void than the space beside her, still cold beneath him.
