A Mafia Life | Sans x reader

Chapter 5: It's okay

I don't know how much time passes when I realize I'm awake. I groan quietly through my shut lips and keep my eyes shut, knowing that opening them will just make me feel more awake. I turn in my warm sheets, the pillow slightly damp from the shower earlier, now lying on my left side, hoping it will be a more comfortable position. I clutch the white duvet in front of my chest, it's not a very tight grip considering I wanted to go back to sleep. I inhale deeply and hold it for a second, allowing the tension to build up in my chest then releasing the breath and letting go of the duvet in an attempt to relax. I repeat this process a fair few times with spaced intervals.

Despite my best efforts, my brain doesn't want to let me sleep, a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach ripping my chances of sleep away from me. I sigh in defeat, pushing myself up and into a sitting position, looking at the clock on my bedside chest of drawers. It reads as 3:07am. I shake my head in what I can describe as vague disappointment as I bring my knees up, wrapping my arms around my legs and putting my forehead on my knees.
I feel cold. My mouth tastes bitter and my head is dull, possibly a headache coming. It was such a good day today, this sucks. But at least by now I'm used to it. God, I used to have nights like these all the time when I was younger. They were previously constant, but as time has went on, I've managed to get a hold of myself. Now, I'll only occasionally I have these nights. I've just accepted that I'm not always going to have control of things like these. I sigh quietly, I guess I was effected more than I thought I was by her death. I shut my eyes as I think, my face lightly tensed in frustration and deep thought, letting my thoughts swim freely.

I don't know why I wasn't as badly effected as Dad was when she died. I spent most of my time with her when I was younger. She would care for me, love me, feed me, teach me... and yet the only day I shed tears for her was when he shot her, when they fought. The moment I witnessed her go was when I cried, but why didn't I cry more? Should I have cried more? Maybe the small insomnia was a punishment for the lack of remorse I showed. I didn't even get nightmares like he did. Why wasn't I-

THUD

My head quickly jolts up as my eyes open and widen slightly, alert attention causing me to stare at my bedroom door, my heart beating slightly faster at the sudden noise. I shut my eyes lightly for a second, sighing as I let my heart get back to a regular pace. I unfold my body and scoot off the bed; I think I know what's going on. My bare feet against my bedroom wooden floor is as soothing as it was this morning, and sends a cool chill up my spine. I find it almost comforting as I open my door and my feet meet the flat carpeted hall floor. I walk across the small hallway to face the bedroom door opposite my own, and slowly twist the handle. Like the handle, I push the door quietly, peeking into his room.

My eyes meet him and sympathy hits heavily at my heart. I was right; Chara is having another nightmare. I push his bedroom door open fully and walk up to him, trying not to trip on some loose clothing littered on his bedroom floor. When I reach beside him, I know it's worse than the last one. A hand meets his cheek as I look at him, tired eyes scanning him. His breathing is roughly paced, cold sweat covering the visible parts of his body and pajama shirt, brows furrowed as he mutters incoherently. His sheets are slightly covered in sweat as well, and they were creased from his sudden jerking.

I sit down beside him and move my hands to grab his shoulders, shaking him slightly in an attempt to wake him up.
"Chara. Hey. You're having another nightmare. Hey, it's okay, I'm here." I whisper gently as I attempt to wake him up. I continue the words and motions a couple of times before he finally wakes up. He shoots up suddenly and I quickly retract my hands as to not get pushed down by his sudden movement.
"Hey. Hey, it's okay. It was just a dream." I say soothingly, turning from my spot on the side of his bed to properly see him. His face is filled with utter terror and panic as he looks at me, eyes frantically scanning my face as he gasps for breath, processing what I said. I smile slightly in sympathy and rest my left hand on his right shoulder in what I hope is a comforting manner.
"Was it about your parents again?" I ask him, as he looks away from me, instead facing forwards and attempting to control his breathing. He pulls his legs up, propping his elbows on his knees and holds his head with both hands as he sorts himself out. His coffee-coloured hair obscures his face, giving him an aura of sadness and depressed security.
Concern fills my features as he remains silent. Was it about his parents or possibly something else? Is he alright? I take my hand off of his shoulder, standing up and facing the door.
"I think you should go have a shower, I'll change your sheets and we can talk about it after, yeah?" I suggest quietly over my shoulder. I hear a small hum of agreement come from him, and I hesitate slightly before walking out of the room.