starpower ━ [south park]

9 | his dream scenario

"in the dreams i don't tell anyone, you put your head on my lap."

10:38 am, saturday, 2007

Kyle Broflovski never usually had difficulty sleeping.

but, that friday night he had.
maybe it was the uncomfortable circumstances; shoulder to shoulder, limb to limb with his friends in a three person tent- the atmosphere warm, humid & tense. he had only been able to fall asleep for a couple of hours before he woke up, drenched in sweat with Cartman snoring right into the canal of his ear. like an alarm, it woke his already aching body; no one said roughing it outdoors would be easy.

dazed & hot, he remembers sitting up between Kenny & Cartman cursing the fact he didn't bother to spend the extra couple of dollars for a five person tent- then maybe camping would be worth the experience. his eyes careened the space around him, the electric lamp set at the corner of their tent provided a dim, orange glow, illuminating a majority of the area. he was dressed in a plain green tee, paired with gray plaid sweatpants. their backpacks were pushed to the other side, spilling with clothes, necessities & miscellaneous items. Stan & Kenny's skateboards laid securely against the pull propping the tent up to an apex, everyone's shoes scattered.

speaking of Stan; in that moment Kyle noticed the strange, lengthy space between him & Kenny. if this were a cartoon there'd be a dotted outline of where Stan was laying just a couple of hours prior, but then again, Kyle didn't need an outline to know who was missing from the typical group of four.
it doesn't take much for him to dismiss Stan's absence, thinking perhaps he'd just left for a late night piss.

Kyle sighed, flopping back onto his back, his head meeting with the lumpy, uneven pillow he brought along just for the trip. the pillow was years old & the cover was made of linen, a strange materialistic choice considering it wasn't at all that comfortable against his skin. but, he thinks he'd take it over sleeping on his backpack- or the bare, tent floor.

he makes the effort to scoot away from Cartman, who's still snoring as loud as humanly possible; he keeps his position between him & Kenny, but adjusts so he has just enough space to feel comfortable- & just enough space so Kenny wouldn't sleepily mistake him for a cuddle buddy; he'd always been a rowdy sleeper.

Kyle never usually had trouble sleeping, but maybe it wasn't just the uncomfortable circumstances.
it was already a hassle to fall asleep in the first place, but waking him up was an all too realistic dream about Y/n.

Cartman snoring into his ear just so happened to be a bothersome coincidence.

it wasn't abnormal for him to have dreams about her, considering she was on his mind almost 24/7, 365. most nights he'd lay in bed, close his eyes & imagine her- her smile, her eyes, her touch; though she's never been close enough for him to realistically envision what she would feel like.
but he imagines she's warm, that her fingertips are delicate against his skin & that she smells like sweetness; that her breathing is sheer against his own, & her hair is soft like velvet.
Kyle would wrap his arms around one of his pillows, tuck his face into the feathery polyester & picture it was her in his arms, her neck he was burried into.
if he tried, to the best of his ability, he could imagine she was in his bed, laid beside him.