no Shuyaku wa Wareware da (Wrwrd)

Emile~Sweet Dreams

(I love this dude)

You tossed and turned in your bed for what felt like the millionth time tonight. It wasn’t like you were uncomfortable or anything. The temperature in the room was fine, the sheets were fine, everything was fine ...but you just couldn’t fall asleep. You grew frustrated with yourself, so mad at your body for not letting you become well-rested.

You turned to your side again, looking at the boy next to you. Your boyfriend, Emile, one of the smartest in the group, was sleeping soundly next to you. You could see his chest rise and fall calmly under the soft blankets.

Oh, how jealous you grew of the sound-asleep.

Despite the growing jealousy inside of you, you smiled. Emile did look quite beautiful, the calmness on his face caused him to look softer than normal. You couldn’t help but stroke your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He was so precious, even in his slumber.

“Mmngh...[Name]?” Emile had woken up, his eyes still closed. You pulled your hand back. Crap, you had completely forgotten he was a light sleeper.

“I-I’m sorry, dear,” You apologized, “I didn’t mean to wake you. Please, go back to sleep.”

He rubbed one of his eyes, yawning, “Why are you awake, though? It’s quite late, you must get adequate sleep.”

You looked away, facing the sheets beneath you, “I...I can’t.”

“You can’t? It’s quite easy, though. Would you like me to-“

“It’s not easy, though...” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and you doubted Emile didn’t pick up on it. Your doubts were confirmed to be true as he stared at you with both eyes open, a worried look in his eyes. You didn’t want to worry him, you didn’t want to wake him up.

You just wanted to sleep.

Suddenly, Emile pulled you closer into him. He laid your head against his chest, where you could hear his calming heartbeat. “How come, my dear?” he asked.

You grabbed onto his pajama shirt, “It’s hard for me. I-I don’t know what it is, but it’s so hard for me to fall asleep...” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes now, “...and I’m always so tired, and it’s draining and I just,” You buried your face into Emile’ chest, sobbing into the top he was wearing.

Emile gently brought his hand to your head. He pet your hair gently, holding you as if you were a small animal. He let you sob, and you took advantage of that opportunity. Emile’ touch was so calming, and it helped you recollect yourself.

You sniffled, “I’m sorry, I ruined your shirt.”

Emile chuckled, “It’s quite alright. It’s just a shirt, I have many others.” You smiled, and he kissed your forehead, “If I may, I think I may have something that could help you.”

You wiped some tears away from your face, “What would that be?”

“Well...,” Emile then trailed off and got up out of bed, causing you to whine a little. He walked over to his bookshelf and grabbed a thick brown book. Though it was a little difficult to see in the dark bedroom, you could see the pages were a bit tattered, signifying the age of the book.

He flipped through the pages, “...I remember learning a sleeping spell when I was younger. It was a bit challenging, but I’m sure I could perform it with ease now.” Emile took the book when he found the right page and moved back into your bed in a sitting position. He gestured for you to lean on him, and you did, nuzzling into his side.

“What does that say?” you asked. The page showed a watered-out doodle of a sleeping person. Next to it were symbols you had never seen before. They were small, written in old ink.

“Ah, that’s an ancient language of the faeries. I had to memorize it as a child. These are the lyrics of the sleeping spell.”

“Wait...lyrics?” You asked.

He chuckled, “Indeed. This spell is actually a lullaby.”

Your eyes widened, “So...you’re gonna sing to me?!”

“Do you not want me to...?” You shook your head from side to side furiously. You had always wondered if Emile (or any of the guys, for that matter) could sing.

“Very well, then. Though,” Emile read the lyrics before him, “song is not my forte. Apologies if I sound like a dying goose.” His joke elicited a chuckle out of the two of you. He then cleared his throat, and you snuggled him closer.

He began singing.

His voice was smooth like butter. It sent chills down your spine, but also made you feel warmth in your chest. The words Emile spoke were in a language you couldn’t understand, but you didn’t really need to, what with his beautiful singing voice. You felt as if you were in a trance of some sort. You were unable to focus on anything else but Emiles’ lullaby.

It made sense, though, since that was the last thing you heard before you finally shut your eyes for the night.