Woso imagines

Alexia < worm

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. Your room was bathed in soft shadows, the faint glow of the moon filtering in through the cracks in the curtains. You lay sprawled out on your back, your breaths deep and even as sleep claimed you. Alexia was nestled against you, her head resting on your chest, one arm draped lazily over your waist.

The rhythm of her breathing matched yours for a while, but then it changed. She shifted slightly, her fingers tracing idle patterns against your side, and her head tilted up to look at you.

"Amor," she whispered softly, her voice laced with hesitation.

You didn't stir at first, lost in the heaviness of sleep.

"Amor," she tried again, this time nudging you gently with her hand.

A groan escaped your lips, a low sound of protest, but your eyes remained shut.

"Wake up," she whispered insistently, her accent wrapping around the words in that way that always made your heart squeeze. "Por favor, I need to ask you something."

Your brow furrowed, and you mumbled something incoherent, your mind still foggy.

"Amor, please," she pressed, her hand now gently shaking your shoulder.

Finally, with a deep sigh, you cracked one eye open to find her gazing at you intently, her brown eyes wide and serious in the dim light. "Alexia," you murmured, your voice hoarse with sleep. "What could possibly be so important at—" you glanced at the clock on the nightstand, "—2:37 in the morning?"

She didn't flinch at your tone, nor did she seem deterred by the clear irritation in your expression. Instead, she propped herself up on one elbow, her face hovering above yours. "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then a third time, hoping you'd somehow misheard her. "A... worm?" you repeated, your voice flat.

Her lips pressed into a firm line, and she nodded. "Sí, a worm," she said, her tone completely serious.

For a moment, you just stared at her, wondering if this was some sort of bizarre dream. But the weight of her gaze and the earnest expression on her face told you she wasn't joking.

"Alexia," you said slowly, rubbing a hand over your face in an attempt to wake yourself up fully. "It's the middle of the night. You woke me up to ask if I'd still love you if you were... a worm?"

She nodded again, clearly not understanding why you weren't taking this as seriously as she was. "It's important," she insisted. "I need to know."

You let out a heavy sigh, your head falling back against the pillow. "Why," you started, pausing to choose your words carefully, "are we talking about this right now?"

Her lips twitched, almost like she wanted to smile, but her expression stayed serious. "Because I was thinking," she began, her accent thickening slightly as she spoke. "If something happened to me, if I was not... like this anymore, would you still love me?"

The softness in her voice made your irritation melt away, and you felt a pang of guilt for not taking her seriously earlier. You reached up, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from her face. "Ale, you could be a worm, a bird, a rock... I'd still love you."

Her face lit up, a small smile breaking through her serious demeanor. "De verdad?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

"Yes," you replied, your tone softer now. "De verdad. But you'd be a very cute worm, just for the record."

She laughed then, the sound light and airy, and it was worth every second of lost sleep just to hear it.

"Okay," she said, finally settling back down against your chest. "Good. Now I can sleep."

"Glad we sorted that out," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips as you wrapped your arms around her.

And as her breathing evened out, you realized that even in the most ridiculous moments, loving Alexia was the easiest thing you'd ever done.