stars

eight

early morning brought messed up bedsheets, sleepy eyes and rays of light falling through the blinds, playing upon naomi's small figure as she breathed slowly, peacefully.

i couldn't help but admire the beauty of it.

i laid with my head on his pillow, one eye peeking over the edge of the bed to carefully let my eyes trail over the mixture of soft sun and soft skin, allowing for memories of a sunlit night and the one i had loved — the one that i still loved so much. it was the definition of ethereal — one noise, one move too many and it would all end, she'd awaken, and i wouldn't be able to look, to see, to observe, to witness this exact moment that i was enjoying so happily.

and then she woke up. i turned over to face the other side, too cowardly and confused to let her know what i was doing.

"morning, iwaizumi," she murmured as she sat up. i allowed myself to look again.

"mornin', naomi," i said quietly, staring as she released her hair from the messy bun it was in. "sleep okay?"

"mmm... i did, actually," she smiled at me, "what about you? are you holding up?"

"honestly?" i asked, raising an eyebrow as i sat up.

"yeah. honestly." she smiled and cocked her head to the right. "if you trust me."

"i'm okay now," i said, "you helped a lot." there was a moment where she blushed slightly. i let her. 

"i'm glad," she said, "want an omelette? i'm in the mood for tamagoyaki."

"i can cook if you want."

"no!" she ordered, standing up, "you are my poor friend, and you need to be treated well!" she pointed at me, as if accusingly, and i smirked in reply.

"oh yeah?"

"yes! i am making you breakfast. no complaining." she hurried off, and i wondered how much more impact she was going to have on my already strangely cheery self.