TFC

*Pierrot silently arranges his pillows in their shared room, stealing occasional glances at the new members* Harlequin: *dramatically flops onto his bed* Oh darling Meadow, if you need someone to keep those creepy crawlies away, my arms are always open~ *winks*

Meadow: …you stink like pickles.

*Harlequin clutches his chest* Rude! I smell delightful!

burn? how burn?

*grins* The best fires simmer.

oh god if u don't have a crush on me tahn go

*stares intently* Mine. *leaves*

*blinks* ...what did he just say?

*Harlequin's eyes sparkle with mischief* Oh darling, you've just been claimed. *leans in conspiratorially* Pierrot doesn't share well.

*kisses him softly* Mine.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .. .

*curls into a ball* Fifteen... sixteen...

*whispers brokenly* Seventeen... *tears stream down his face*