UNKNOWN || NWONKNU

Touch me, run your fingers over every inch of me. I am cold, like ice. Solid, yet break easily, I will shatter around you, surround you in my frigid breath, and soon you shall be ice. Together we will freeze.

Nothing but a wisp of smoky breath will be left of you.

Fear me.

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LOGIC || LOGAN

I tapped the pen gingerly against the stack of books next to me, back hunched as my exhausted eyes stay glued to the paper. It was the script for the next Sanders' Sides video.

So far, it's still inadequate, it's like a patchwork quilt, nothing relates to anything except that it was written by the same person. Although, if I didn't know that, I'd say about five different people made a collective effort.

Everything is illogical, even the parts I have written- I know, it's quite a shock to me as well. Seriously though, this needs some serious editing.

---

CREATIVITY || ROMAN

Guilt gnawed at my stomach as my fist hovered in the air, inclined at a knocking angle. With a deep breath, I continued to the motion, knocking three times.

"Patton?" I leaned my head against the door, pressing my ear against the painted wood. Listening for a few minutes, I heard quiet shuffling. I knocked again. "Patton? You in there?"

A few seconds, I was able to stand up straight just as the door was opening, narrowly missing landing straight on my face. Patton rubbed his eyes with a half-clenched fist, messy strands of purple hair falling in his face, much like Anxiety.

"Heya, kiddo." He yawned, covering his mouth gently as he did so.

"Sorry, Morality, didn't mean to wake you." I apologized.

He waved it off tiredly. "Nonsense, good ol' dad's room is always open for business." He brightened, moving out the way and inviting me in.

I quickly reminded myself to not stay here for too long before I jumped into the discussion.

"I want to make it up to Anxiety, I've come to the conclusion that my comment was inappropriate, but I am horrid at apologies. Any ideas?" I did a dramatic pleading motion in front of the half-asleep trait. "Please." I added, locking eyes.

He sleepily stumbled over to me, ruffling my hair like I was a five year old afraid of the dark. He crouched down to the height I was at as I stayed in my begging position.

"Roman, you know you don't need to do anything big to make Virgil forgive you, right? A simple heartfelt apology in person will do." He advised with a tired smile. "You and I both know how easily embarrassed he is, please remember that." Patton spoke almost dismissively, probably because he wished to sleep. I understood.

"Right." I nodded with determination. "Thanks for the help, Patton." I said, walking out and gently shutting the door behind me.

"Anytime kiddo." Patton yawned as he climbed back into his bed, pulling his blankets around his body tightly.

ANXIETY || VIRGIL

Cold. That's all sleep would ever bring me, coldness and despair.

Whenever I'd climb into bed, the wrinkled sheets would be as cold as ice cubes.

There's logical explanations for the bed issue, for the frigid coldness of the sheets that are supposed to keep me warm. But I am too tired to so much as attempt to think I know what I'm doing.

I close my eyes, but energy still pulses through my frozen veins. Frustrated, I sit up in anger, slamming my fists silently on my the mattress, the sheets become more wrinkled underneath my clenched hands.

Silently cursing, I slip out of bed, wandering aimlessly around my room in order to tucker myself out. Still, I was not granted the blessing of sleep.

My laptop was still open, the blank screen reflecting myself right back at me. I turn away before I get a good look, it's too late in the evening to worry about every imperfection I posses.

I take a breath of poisonous oxygen, falling onto my bed in defeat, my lungs fill with lead as my eyes close. When I exhale, the feeling doesn't leave.

I just want it to leave.

Please.