Narnia Preferences and Oneshots

Edmund Oneshot

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(A/N: Hey guys! We had our first performance last night! I can't get the lipstick off. After the show there was this little girl who was really shy and her parents said that she really wanted to meet Buddy the Elf and oh my heart! My grandmother is coming into town tomorrow and I'm flying down to TX on the 17th so the preference on the 16th will A. Be my last for a while and B. probably be really short. Sorry about that in advance. Remember to eat something, drink some water and take your meds! Love you!)

Modern Oneshot: Edmund's up late reading a book

You couldn't understand why Edmund didn't sleep much.

It was winter, which meant that your job at an equestrian center had dwindled to very few tasks and you spent most of your time sleeping. If you weren't sleeping, you were with Edmund, who was always awake.

Edmund almost never slept, which really couldn't have been healthy, but he seemed to function just fine throughout the day on an hour of sleep. Usually he was working as he was an editor for a publishing company and could work from home. When he wasn't working, he was spending time with you or reading, which is what he was currently doing. It was almost midnight, not at all late for him but you had been up all day. You wanted to sleep and you wanted to sleep with him.

"Ed?" you mumbled against his shoulder. You were both sat on the couch, you cuddled up to Edmund under a mound of blankets.

"Yes, cuddle bug?"

"Can we go to bed?" You pressed a long kiss to his bare shoulder then rested your chin on it, staring up at him. Edmund turned his head and gave you a quick kiss, immediately turning back to his book.

"Go to sleep," he said. "I'll carry you to bed later."

"Ed," you wined. "I want to sleep with you."

He looked at you, an eyebrow raised. Your eyes widened.

"I meant that in the most innocent way possible." Edmund laughed.

"Let me finish this chapter," he said. "Then I'll go to bed with you, yeah?"

You nodded, snuggling more into his neck than his shoulder now. He settled back into his book, back into whatever world he was picturing in his mind. Edmund had a wonderful imagination, far better than your own. You wondered why he choose to edit what people wrote instead of being the writer. You wouldn't mind it; Edmund did all of these little things when he was focused, but mainly when he was working. Raising his eyebrows without reason, scrunching up his face whenever his eyes started to close, constantly having to push up glasses and moving his freckle-covered nose in attempt to do that without his hands.

Edmund often talked of writing his own pieces, whether it be novels, short stories or articles. He would rant, stumbling over his words in excitement, spider webbing from one subject to another. Sometimes it was very difficult to follow his words, but when you did manage to understand them, even if the idea was boring, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. The man that you got to call yours and called you his was brilliant. He was flamboyant at times and stoic and pensive at others, but he was imaginative and thoughtful all of the time.

Before you met Edmund, when you walked the streets of London you saw people and shops. When you walked with Edmund, you saw stories and ideas. With Edmund, there was never a dull moment, never bored silence. If there was silence it was comfortable, time to bask in each others presence and wonder how you got so lucky, time to be appreciative of the wonderful human being that was always in close proximity to you.

Edmund closed his book, setting it on the couch next to him. "Are you ready to go to bed?"

"Hmm," you hummed, nodding your head. He smiled.

"Am I going to have to carry you?"