Let's Meet Again, For the First Time (Eren x OC)

1

My eyes burned into the empty word document on my laptop screen. The only light in my room was right in front of my tired eyes.

"Come on- creativity...", I whispered as my hands hovered over the keyboard. "Nope?", I sighed, "Nothing?", I leaned back in my uncomfortable desk chair, throwing my head back.

I ran my hand through my short dyed black hair. I glanced at the time, 2:47am. "Why do you do this to yourself Spencer?", I asked myself.

My eyes trailed out the window, I noticed the building across mine.

The same light stayed on. I stood in front of my window as I stared at the only lit room. "Why don't you sleep?", I whispered as I watched them.

That room in the building across mine stayed lit. Throughout the day, the night...and so on. They were always awake when I was. I wondered who lived there. What kept them up in the night.

Maybe a baby? Were they a fulltime student? Who are you?

I think why I was so interested in this person was because they were one of the only ones that shared the night with me. Sure, we were hundreds of miles apart and were complete strangers. But I always wondered.

Not many stayed awake through the night like I did. Not everyone was cursed with this inability to sleep in the night. But they were. What were they thinking about? What kept their mind alive like mine?

Maybe that's why I was so connected with this stranger. Maybe they shared the same mind I did. Maybe the only time they had to themselves was now.

These dark hours that are lost to sleep. When the world was quiet, I could think. I was alone. Complete silence.

And that's why I loved it so much. This was the time where I could listen to my thoughts and try to understand them.

I was a struggling writer. Well, that's what I'd like to call myself, if I'm being honest. I'm a waitress who writes when she has the time. Does that count?
All I know is when I was writing I could escape. I put myself in the words, between the lines. And it took me somewhere warm and peaceful. I could travel the world through words and stories.

I think that's why I loved it so much. I could be anywhere and everywhere, while sitting in the same desk I always do.

And that's when the lightbulb lit up, bright enough to wake up the sleeping world.

I raced to my desk and began to type away.

I wrote about a man. He lived alone. He worked a normal 9-5 job that he loathed but showed up to on time everyday.

He smiled at his coworkers, maintained small talk as the hours of the sun drained him slowly.

He had a wife, she was beautiful, maybe too pretty for him. They loved each other, but were no longer in love.

They didn't have children, they spend most nights staying in, watching movies to pass the time till they could close their eyes and wake up and do it all over again.

She told him she loved him every night before they fell asleep in the same bed. While he waited for her to fall asleep he stared at the white walls surrounding him.

They felt like a prison to him, thought he'd never admit that to himself.

He didn't hate his life, nor loved it. He was just...breathing. Like the rest of the slaves that are bound to the prison that is called life.

But when she fell asleep, he turned into someone else.

The man he dreamed of being when he was a boy. He'd leave the bed every night at 11:57pm, not a minute late and not a minute earlier.