𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 | 𝚓𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝

𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨 | 𝟷/𝟷

[photo: Schlatt wearing glasses from the beginning of the newest Wii video (Wii Sports Resort) | wc: 1,377 | note: the story was inspired by his comment in the surgeon simulator video about having a nightmare. I have like 10 half-written drafts at the moment so expect more from me soon and thank you for all your support!]

He woke up in a cold sweat, sitting up quickly and slightly panicked. As his surroundings became clear to him, he fell back against his pillow, catching his breath. While he convinced himself that he had only been dreaming, your figure stirred awake from his side.

"Hm?" You hummed, turning over to face him only to find that he was sitting up again, his legs over the side of the bed. His head was resting heavily in his hands and you rubbed your eyes, speaking through a yawn, "Babe?"

"It's okay, you can go back to sleep. I'll be back in a second," he kissed your forehead, pulling the blanket back up to your shoulders.

He grabbed his glasses from on top of the nightstand and ran his hand through his hair as he slid the glass door and stepped out onto the balcony.

This was nothing new for him—every time he traveled, he struggled to sleep. Lately, as his work demanded him to be away from home more whether it be for filming videos or conventions, it had only worsened. Standing on the balcony overlooking the lights glistening from the city of Los Angeles and the serenity of the sleeping houses nearby, he was reminded that the world doesn't stop spinning for anyone, least of all himself. He leaned against the rail and took a deep breath of the warm air.

Slowly, so as to not startle him, hands snaked around his waist and your quiet voice spoke, "Hey..."

"Hey," he smiled as you pressed your body against his back and then proceeded with a chuckle, "I thought I told you to go back to sleep?"

"And let you have all this fun without me? I don't think so," you stepped back slightly as he turned to face you. You started at the hinges of his glasses and followed them, barely brushing his temples with your fingertips, and tucked them behind his ears before cupping his face. He gave you the best smile he could muster and sank into your hands, "What happened, baby?"

His stoic façade crumbled under your touch. He pulled you against his chest and sighed into your hair as you began to drag your fingers softly up and down his back, "Just a bad dream, that's all."

"Is this the first time?" You weren't sure you were ready for him to admit that it wasn't—if that were the case—but you needed to know.

This was your first time coming to Los Angeles with him since you normally couldn't get time off from work with the short notice that his manager, Ryan, often gave. He had mentioned to you in passing that he was struggling to sleep, something that was overwhelmingly apparent from his appearance when he returned, but you always thought that it was from parties or events—at the very least you didn't think it was from nightmares.

He moved away slightly, resting his hands on your waist, and shook his head as he reluctantly spoke, "No..."

"What was it about?" As you finished asking the question, you saw his eyes widen slightly and his gaze fall to the floor, clearly uncomfortable. You quickly clarified, "If you want to tell me, of course. It's totally okay if you don't."

"I'm just... Not ready yet?" He seemed frustrated with himself and it hurt you to see him struggle in this way, "I mean, I don't know why I wouldn't be—you've been nothing but kind and supportive—and if there was anyone I would feel comfortable telling it would be you—but I..."

"It's okay," you spoke softly and genuinely, "It's alright. You don't have to be ready, we don't have to talk about it now. What would you prefer that I do to help you?"

"I've just got to work some things out and I'll be fine... Just stand here with me for a minute?" He suggested.

"Sure," you let him wrap his arms around you as he leaned back against the balcony railing.

After a short moment of silence and thought, he spoke up, "Y'know... Not to sound gay or anything, but I think you're my soulmate."

You chuckled airily and placed your head to his chest and repeated, as if testing out the word, "Soulmate. I like the sound of that."

His laugh reverberated in his torso and you reveled in his newfound delight, "Soulmate it is."

You stood in a comfortable silence, enjoying the lazy circles he drew on your back and the reflection of the city in his glasses. For a moment they looked like stars in the sky and reminded you of the view from your apartment back home, just far enough upstate from New York City to still see the details of the night sky.

"I miss the stars," you turned to look at the sky, disappointed to see that the lights from the city drowned out the lights from the sky, leaving only the moon visible.

You looked up to find him staring at you and your face flushed, "Stop it..."

"Sorry, you're just so captivating," he placed his large and calloused hand on your cheek, his warmth seeping into your skin. You closed your eyes for a second to capture the moment before speaking.

"I knew you were a sap," you wrapped your arms around his neck and he rolled his eyes.

"You know you love it," he smirked, his eyes seemed to grow deeper and more mischievous.

"Never said I didn't," you breathed, pulling him down and into a kiss, immediately melting against his lips.

Only pulling away for air, he rested his forehead softly against yours. As a smile settled on his face, one he could not suppress nor hide, you kissed his jaw and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear it, "You make me so happy."

For a moment, he thought that you had simply not heard, or were choosing to ignore it, and felt as though he had gotten away with saying it. But was torn from his relief when you smiled against his neck, "You make me happy, too."

Suddenly it dawned on you how late it had gotten. You let out a yawn, despite your best efforts to suppress it, and rubbed your head wearily against his shoulder.

"Tired?" He questioned, accusingly, as he ran his fingers slowly through your hair.

You hummed, your eyes already threatening to close as your blinks grew longer, "What gave it away?"

"What didn't?" He retorted, lifting you up to carry you back inside. Your legs hooked around his waist and your head stayed buried against his neck.

After he delicately placed you on the bed, you grabbed his arm, "Wait."

"Yeah?" He stayed at your side momentarily.

"Are you okay to come back to bed? I don't want to leave you alone or make you face those dreams again..." you moved your hand down his arm and to his hand, interlocking your fingers. At his pensive silence you continued, "We can stay up if you need to. I'll stay up with you."

"No, no..." he pulled his hand away from yours and walked to the other side of the bed, "You're exhausted, too. I can't make you stay up. I'll be alright."

"Jonathan, it's really not—" you started, trying to protest his decision.

He cut you off, climbing in next to you and pulling you against him, "Go to sleep. I'll be okay, really."

"I'm going to scare those nightmares away," you snuggled against his side, your arm squeezing around him and your head resting on his chest. You felt his breaths deepen and his heart rate slow.

"That's what you like to hear," he kissed the top of your head once before silence and then sleep overtook you both until long and peacefully into the morning hours.