False Reality

Please Comfort Me

You were not someone that reached out for comfort often.
Especially when your only source of comfort was Keigo, who, admittedly did give good hugs, but you just couldn't shake that he didn't want you around, even if he said it was a stupid comment made in the heat of the moment.

But you'd had a nightmare.
And his light was still on.

You'd never been in his office or his room before. Something about it just felt like you couldn't go in there, like there would be something incredibly personal or confidential in those two areas of the house. Like there was an unspoken rule about not going into his spaces.
There wasn't... probably. But it still felt like there was.

You feel pathetic right now, almost like you're a child again when you exit your room to bother him.
But your heart is thundering in your chest and your hands are shaking, and no matter how much you try to calm down, it's not working.
Your brain providing a horrific, make-believe scenario of your parents turning into a graphic image of their crushed bodies mid-sentence in a conversation with them while having a seemingly normal dream will do that to you though, you suppose.

You knock on the door nervously, not wanting to interrupt him if he was working or something- you'd seen his office light on late in the night before, so it wouldn't be news to you if he was on the phone or something.
The door opens pretty soon after you knock though, revealing a confused Keigo, who's fluffy eyebrows are slightly tugged together and his always unruly hair is somehow even more messy than usual as he tugs his fingers through it as though he's stressed about something.

"Y/N? It's nearly four a.m... What's wrong?" He asks, his voice cracking slightly as if tired.

Maybe he slept with the light on, and you hadn't realised this whole time.
You turn to walk away wordlessly, to let him carry on sleeping, but he gently captures your bandaged wrist in his hand.
His facial expression has softened, and although his grip is loose enough for you to break out of, you don't.
You kind of don't want to. Not that you'd ever admit it.

"You're shaking." He points out with genuine concern in his voice.

You can't find your own voice, just standing there silent and staring at him with tear filled eyes that you refuse to set free.

"Rough night?" He asks gently.

You nod, and he sighs, giving you a small sympathetic smile in return.

"Yeah. I get that." He says. "Wanna break the rules and eat some ice cream while watching weird TV?"

The suggestion is so obscene that you can't help but crack an ever-so-slight relieved smile and nod as enthusiastically as you can.

"Come on then." He says, leading you away from his room with one of his wings gently.

You settle down on the couch, Keigo's feathers throwing a blanket over you as he walks heavily footed to the kitchen, yawning as even more feathers get out cutlery while he digs around in the freezer for ice cream.

"Were you sleeping?" You ask, trying to project your voice loud enough for him to hear it even though you really didn't feel like talking.

You didn't have your writing tablet or phone, thanks to Keigo's bedtime phone rule, so you'd have to keep to short answers and questions and rely on gestures and expressions for now.

"Huh? Nah." Keigo sighs, standing with the ice cream cradled close to his chest. "I don't sleep good either."

You had thought as much after seeing his lights on so often when you had woken up to get water or to use the bathroom during the night, but couldn't quite pin down what could be keeping Keigo up unless it was work. You could imagine that heroes likely had quite the workload. Something else for you to not look forward to in the future.