Astralyth Online

Chapter 74 – Worried sick

Madelyn lay in her bed, sleep not quite coming to her. The room was quiet and dim, only the faint light of the moon spilling through her curtains. Lyra was already asleep, curled up like a kitten on one of the pillows beside her, tiny snores rising and falling with every soft breath.

But Madelyn couldn’t relax.

Her tail twitched with every restless thought, brushing against the blankets as she lay curled up in her fox form, her ears flicking at every tiny sound. She kept telling herself she just needed to be patient—that Sarah would message her back in the morning, or better would be waiting for her like always, leaning against the front gate with that familiar smirk, like nothing was wrong.

She would have a reason. She had to have a reason.

But it didn’t stop the gnawing worry that sat in Madelyn’s chest like a stone. The longer she stared at the shadows on her wall, the more her thoughts spiraled—had she done something wrong? Had Sarah changed her mind about everything?

No. No.

Sarah wouldn’t do that, ever... She wasn’t the kind of person to just… disappear. She had promised she’d never leave her. And Madelyn believed her.

But still, the silence… it was driving her mad.

She shifted again, curling tighter into herself as if that could hold the worry at bay. She wished she could text her, hear her voice—see her.

But there was nothing she could do tonight. Just wait.

Madelyn closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply, listening to Lyra’s soft snores beside her.

Tomorrow. She’d see Sarah tomorrow.

But after another fifteen minutes of twisting and turning, Madelyn gave up. She let out a soft, frustrated whine, her ears drooping as she flopped onto her side. This was so stupid. She really had to sleep—tomorrow was a school day. But her mind just wouldn’t shut off, and her heart ached with a quiet, persistent worry she couldn’t shake.

With a resigned sigh, she slipped out of bed, her paws landing softly on the floor. Her pads made no sound as she padded across the room. She focused for a moment, feeling that now-familiar warmth stir inside her chest, and shifted back into her foxkin form. With quiet, deliberate movements, she opened her door and crept into the hallway.

The air was cooler out here, and the house was still and quiet. Everyone else was asleep. That made what she was doing feel even more ridiculous—and a little embarrassing.

She crossed the hall and stopped in front of the guest room.

Her face flushed a deep crimson.

This was so embarrassing.

But she couldn’t help it. The night before, she’d fallen asleep next to Sarah here… and she had slept really well. Maybe it was just being near her, or the comfort of her scent, or the way Sarah had instinctively held her close like she belonged there. Madelyn didn’t know exactly what it was, but right now, she needed every bit of comfort she could get.

She opened the door and slipped inside, closing it quietly behind her. The room was dark, but with her heightened senses, she didn’t need much light. Her foxkin eyes picked up more detail in the shadows than they used to, and she’d been here enough lately to know her way around anyway.

Madelyn let out a breath and, without a second thought, shifted back into her fox form. It was getting easier each time—more natural, like slipping into a familiar rhythm. She padded across the room and hopped onto the bed in one smooth motion.

Instantly, her nose caught it—Sarah’s scent, still lingering on the pillows and blankets. It made her heart skip a beat, warmth blooming in her chest like a quiet little fire. She told herself it was stupid, that she was being silly, but she didn’t leave.

Instead, she nosed the blankets around until they were just right and curled up in the center of the bed, her tail wrapping protectively around herself.

Just for tonight, she told herself.

She’d never tell a soul.

Especially Sarah—especially Sarah. She would never let her live it down if she found out Madelyn had snuck into the guest room just to curl up in the blankets that still smelled like her.

But it didn’t matter. The warmth wrapped around her, the softness of the bed beneath her, and the lingering scent that made her heart ache in a sweet, comforting way—all of it slowed her thoughts, dulled her anxiety.

Her tail tucked snugly around her body, she closed her eyes and let the world drift away.

And as she slipped into sleep, she dreamed.

Green eyes met hers, bright and playful. Long golden hair caught the sunlight like strands of silk. A laugh that rang through her chest like a melody she never wanted to forget. Sarah, holding her hand. Sarah, smiling like she was the most important thing in the world. Sarah, leaning in to—

A sound pulled her from the haze.

Laughter. Quiet, smug, and entirely too amused.

Madelyn let out a soft, disgruntled yip and burrowed deeper into the covers, her tail flicking once as she silently begged the universe to give her five more minutes.

“Ohhh my stars,” Lyra’s voice cooed from somewhere above her. “This is so cute I could scream.”

Madelyn let out another grumble, refusing to lift her head. But that didn’t stop Lyra from floating down and poking gently at the lump of blankets. “Guest room, huh?” the fairy added in a sing-song tone. “And look at you all curled up in someone’s scent like a lovesick little fox.”

Madelyn's eyes shot open. Oh no.

Her whole body went stiff beneath the blankets, her ears twitching frantically as her mind scrambled to remember where she was—why she was here—and how she could possibly salvage this.

The dream, the warmth, the scent of Sarah—it had all felt so nice. Too nice. She’d let her guard down.

Lyra hovered just above the bed, her grin so wide it practically lit up the room. “So, how was your romantic fox nap?” she teased, resting her tiny chin on her hands as she lay on her stomach midair.

Madelyn shot off the bed like she'd been caught committing a crime, her body shifting mid-motion into her foxkin form in a rush fur. She stood there in her oversized sleep shirt, face burning, arms half raised in defense.

“I didn’t mean to sleep here!” she blurted, her voice practically pleading. “It just… happened!”

Lyra gasped, clasping both tiny hands over her chest with mock horror. “You mean… you didn’t sneak in here, sniff around for Sarah’s scent like a bloodhound, and then nest yourself into a fluffy pile of emotional comfort like some tragic romance heroine?”

Madelyn’s face might as well have been on fire.

“If you say it like that, it sounds really weird!” she snapped, ears twitching with embarrassment and her tail flicking wildly behind her. “That’s not what I— I just— I thought maybe I’d sleep better here, okay?!”

Lyra grinned devilishly. “Uh-huh. On the bed where your girlfriend slept, surrounded by her scent, cuddled up like a little plushie…”

“Please stop,” Madelyn groaned, pulling her hands down her face. “And please don’t say anything to Sarah or anyone else. Like, ever.”

Lyra floated backward with both hands raised in mock innocence. “Alright, alright. I promise not to breathe a word—your secret fox cuddle mission is safe with me.” She smirked. “Even though I think it’s really cute.”

Madelyn just let out another defeated sigh and shook her head, the heat in her cheeks refusing to fade. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe,” Lyra agreed, spinning lazily in the air. “But I’m the worst who loves you.”

Still grumbling under her breath, Madelyn reached for her school clothes. Before she began changing, she closed her eyes for a second and focused on her Human Disguise. A soft tingle rippled through her body, and with it, the gentle shimmer of magic washed over her. Her fox ears faded into her hair, and her tail vanished, leaving her looking completely human once more.

She changed quickly, adjusting her shirt and brushing down her skirt.

With a deep breath, she headed downstairs.

The house smelled faintly of toast and chamomile. Her father had already left for work, and her mom was at the table, a steaming mug of tea in hand and her laptop open beside her.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Emily said, looking up with a gentle smile. “Sleep well?”

Madelyn paused mid-step, suppressing a twitch that would’ve flicked her now-hidden tail. “Yeah,” she said, a little too quickly. “Slept great.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push. “That’s good. You’ve got a little time before you need to head out. Want some breakfast?”

“Yeah,” Madelyn replied, moving to sit at the table. “Thanks.”

Lyra landed quietly on Madelyn’s shoulder, still smiling to herself.

As she ate, Madelyn pulled out her phone and checked her messages. Her heart sank a little when she saw there was still no reply from Sarah. The longer the silence dragged on, the more it gnawed at her—Was she upset? Weirded out? Just busy? Madelyn tried to push the worry aside, but it lingered like a shadow in the back of her mind.

After breakfast, Madelyn grabbed her school bag and slung it over her shoulder, along with a smaller drawstring bag containing her P.E. clothes. She eyed that one a little warily—she still wasn’t sure how she felt about doing physical education in her new body. But that was a problem for future Madelyn.

“Time to go,” Lyra said. In a shimmer of light, she transformed into her flower form, petals curling in with practiced grace.

Madelyn reached up and carefully tucked the soft blossom into her hair, nestling it just behind her ear. Now nestled snugly in place, Lyra was quiet for once, clearly sensing Madelyn’s anxiousness and choosing not to tease her. For now.

She stepped into her shoes, tugged the front door open, and—

Froze.

Standing at the front gate, just beyond the short walkway, was a very familiar figure.

Long golden hair. A slightly crooked smile. Bright green eyes that lit up the second they met hers.

“Sarah…”

Madelyn barely had time to think before her body took over. She bolted down the path like she’d been launched, the bags on her shoulders bouncing as she threw herself forward—and practically tackled Sarah in a hug.

“Oof—!” Sarah stumbled back a step but caught her with ease, laughing as her arms wrapped around her. “Well, good morning to you too!”

Madelyn pulled back slightly, her arms still wrapped around Sarah, her amber eyes narrowing—though the effect was more pouty than intimidating.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” she said, trying her best to sound stern. “I was worried sick, you jerk.”

Sarah raised a brow and grinned, clearly unimpressed by the attempt at toughness. “Ooh, scary,” she teased, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Madelyn’s cheek. “You’re super cute when you’re angry. I should do this more often.”

Madelyn’s cheeks flared pink, and she tried to frown harder to save face, but it only made Sarah giggle.

“I’m serious,” Madelyn said, though her voice cracked halfway through. She didn’t loosen her hold one bit.

“I know,” Sarah said, the teasing fading just enough for sincerity to slip in. She slid her arms gently around Madelyn’s waist and rested her forehead against hers. “And I’m really sorry. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to talk to you.”

Madelyn’s expression softened immediately, the tension slipping from her shoulders. “Then what happened?”

Sarah sighed and glanced briefly toward the street, checking to make sure no one was too close. “My mom found my phone,” she murmured. “She saw my background. Probably read some of the messages, too.”

Madelyn’s heart skipped. “Oh no…”

“Yeah,” Sarah said, her voice light but tired. “She gave me one of her disappointment interviews—you know, the kind where she doesn’t yell, just makes you feel like the most inconvenient person on the planet.” She let out a little laugh, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

The moment those words sank in, Madelyn instinctively squeezed her tighter, her arms locking protectively around her like she could somehow shield Sarah from it all. Sarah let out a soft oof but didn’t push her away—instead, she leaned her head slightly against Madelyn’s.

“I’ll tell you more on the way,” Sarah murmured. “If you let me breathe again.”

Madelyn blinked, realizing with a flustered jolt just how tightly she was holding on. “Oh—right. Sorry.”

She reluctantly stepped back, her hands sliding down to gently hold Sarah’s arms. “I just… missed you.”

Sarah beamed, brushing a strand of Madelyn’s red hair back behind her ear. “I missed you too. A lot.”

Lyra, still curled up in her flower form behind Madelyn’s ear, gave a soft flutter of her petals but stayed silent, clearly choosing not to ruin the moment.

With fingers intertwining naturally, the two girls began walking toward school, the morning light casting warm dappled patterns across the pavement.