The Promised Neverland Oneshots

awake • ray

* me rewriting this: there's gonna be so many commas
* don't mind the old comments, they came from a darker timeline

***

The night moves. It goes on, with or without us, as time always will. Whether we sleep along or stay awake is a choice to make.

Saturday nights were always like this. The city's still bustling outside, not that I care much. On the contrary, it's quiet inside. I sit in the living room and wait for Ray to come home from work. He has a 9-to-5 job on weekdays and a part-time on Saturday afternoons. I have a job on weekdays too but the reason why I have weekends off was to take care of Ray. As soon as he steps in, I rush to him. I take his bag, drop it gently on the floor, and we embrace each other. We let go after a solid minute. Ray takes off his shoes, I take his coat and hang it in the closet. He then heads to the kitchen, no longer surprised that I was the one who cooked. It was a routine now.

We eat dinner and talk about how our day went. He compliments me on my cooking, which, of course, I'm very proud of. Ray then takes a shower while I finish up in the kitchen. We head to our room, he changes into pajamas and joins me under the covers. Like I said, Saturday nights were always like this. While the rest of the world was still running, Ray and I were ready to settle down. Our hands intertwine under the blanket. He gives me that soft look again. I bring my free hand up to touch his cheek, trying to tell him it's going to be alright.

"I'm still here with you."

"I know." He lifts his eyes. "Thanks."

It's been a difficult time for us. Ray's been trying to cope and I tried to help him the best I can. At least two months have passed since. He couldn't sleep at night, he'd sometimes cry as quietly as he can. I asked him to get therapy but he argued that me being with him every night was more than enough comfort. I can't keep seeing him like this. He has to sleep. But no matter how tired he is, or how hard he tries, he just can't. Ever since that day, he torments himself with a things he can't change. I know we both miss her a lot. She treated me like family and she became somewhat a mother to me.

Isabella, Ray's mother, died just two months ago. He didn't exactly have the best relationship with his mother, but they got along well enough. But that day, that's when he started getting less and less sleep. Ray was later diagnosed with short-term insomnia. For more than a month, he's been on antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications but they don't seem to be working. The best thing that was happening is me— or at least that's what he told me. I've been cooking for us every night, I've attempted to massage him a few times a week as well.

"Stay awake with me." He puts his hand on mine, asking me to stay up a little while longer.

I love him and I'm sure he loves me too. This is the best thing I can do for him. "As always, my darling."

And I think to myself... there's nowhere else I'd rather be than here with Ray, whether asleep or awake.

the end.

* hey, hope that was okay-ish