Chapter Text
Before escaping the Parable with him, you’d had plenty of ideas about what the Narrator might look like—and how could you not? He had been—and still very much is—everything to you, and a simple disembodied voice is…well, oddly difficult to fully wrap your head around. It had been much easier to imagine a someone behind that voice you loved so much, and that’s just what you’d done. So when the two of you had finally—finally—figured out how to get out, you’d been truly, genuinely excited to see how he’d turn out.
The thing is, out of everything you’d ever imagined, you’d never really pictured a sentient speech bubble—which happens to be just how the Narrator appears to you.
It’s not as weird as you might have expected, really; he’s still the same Narrator he always has been, and honestly, after getting re-accustomed to his presence, you’ve grown very fond of his form. Fonder, even, than the Narrator himself—since leaving the Parable, you’ve helped him through regular bouts of fear and insecurity, and he has readily (if a little awkwardly) returned the favor.
Seeing him has become your favorite part of the day, especially coming home after a long day of work. He greets you at the door every time without fail, always with a slightly ridiculous amount of dramatic affection, seemingly endless questions about your day, and, after the fact, about a hundred thousand words of his own to say.
Today is a day like any other—you come home tired and fully ready to flop into bed, and just as you step inside, you’re greeted by an eagerly waiting Narrator at the door.
“You’re home,” he purrs, resting himself on your shoulder and wrapping his tail around your body in a delighted little hug. The words curl into being by your ear in a hilariously melty font—whatever he says and however he says them, he can never hide from you. It still brings a little rush to your heart when he calls your place home—it had taken it months for that to come about, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. All that—on top of the fact that you can feel his voice curling around you, settling warmly in your chest and unraveling the tensions of the day—brings a helplessly gooey smile to your face.
“Yeah.” You turn your head to press a kiss to his side, and he lets out a pleased hum, the sensation sending a soft, familiar little shock shooting right down your spine.
“So?” prods the Narrator as you make your way to the couch. Another bubble pops up around your elbow, and his tail extends with the addition to wind lazily down your leg. “How was your day?”
“Oh, you know,” you sigh as you flop onto the couch and fling an arm over your eyes, careful not to squish him, “a day.”
You can practically hear the pout in his voice as he says, “Oh, please. You can do better than that, dear.”
Another one of his bubbles appears right in your lap, snuggling right up against your middle as his tail playfully pokes at your cheek before settling around your shoulders like a warm, living scarf. You roll your eyes and allow your hand to come to rest on the newest bubble, instinctively giving him a few little pets.
“There’s nothing to say,” you shrug.
“‘There’s nothing to say’?” the Narrator scoffs, indignant and bristling. You snicker at the dramatic, mocking tone he affects, and he ignores you. “What do you mean, ‘there’s nothing to say’? There’s always something to say.”
“Mm,” you say dismissively, waving a hand. “Not today.”
Actually, you have thought of something—at this point you’re just in it for the love of the game. Teasing the Narrator is fun—it’s always a treat to get him all worked up and fluffy. It’s even worth having to coax him out of his only-slightly-exaggerated sulks.
“You’re the worst,” he huffs. The bubble comes to rest on top of your head, and his tail trails down over your face like an errant strand of hair. You resist the urge to tuck it behind your ear—as funny as it would be, it’s probably better to keep it to one game at a time.
“I mean it!” he protests when you laugh again. “You really are the most frustrating person I have ever had the absolute displeasure of—of, erm, caring about.”
“Sure,” you say, pressing down another giggle. “You keep telling yourself that.”
The Narrator lets out a vague, frustrated little noise at your (apparently obvious) amusement, speech bubbles fluffing up in indignation. It’s cute to see him so harmlessly annoyed, and you can’t pretend it doesn’t help you unwind to push his buttons.
“Stop it,” he grumbles, poking you sharply between the ribs. “You’re impossible.”
You put on your most charming, innocent smile. “I know.”
“I hate you so much.”
You grin. “No you don’t.”
“I—” He cuts himself off, biting back an irritated sigh. “No, I don’t. Just talk to me, dear. Come on, please? I haven’t seen you all day…I’ve missed you…”
Okay, that’s…oddly sweet. You can’t pretend it doesn’t bring a warm, fluttery little feeling to your chest, but that’s for you to know and the Narrator to never, ever, ever find out. You know he’d never let go of it.
“Fineee,” you relent, “you win. But you’re not allowed to say that for another month.”
“Fine by me!” he chirps happily, nestling in against your side. “Go on, now. Tell me everything.”
You roll your eyes again, but you can’t fight back a smile as you lay your hand over one of the many speech bubbles that surround you. You’re practically tangled in him at this point—his tail criss-crosses and weaves and winds all over and around you—but you don’t really mind. It’s even quite comfortable.
“Alright, listen—you remember that guy I told you about last week? You’ll never believe…”
You sink into the now-familiar routine of talking and teasing back and forth like a warm bath, feeling all of the tension of the day’s work leaving you as the atmosphere warms with chatter and casual affection. The Narrator weaves his tail between your fingers, and eventually, as you’re regaled with the Narrator’s latest ramble, you fall quiet.
Before you’d left the Parable with him, you’d conjured up a million images in your mind of what the Narrator might look like. You’d even favored a few of them, hoped in their direction. You’d honestly never even come close to this.
But really, at this point…well. You wouldn’t have it any other way.