Ace of Hearts - Haikyuu || Short Stories || One Shots || Creative Rambles

Dreaming About You || Ennoshita Chikara

Ayyyee, we back at it with the song-inspired nonsense. This ramble brought to you by "I should Be Sleeping" by Emerson Drive. 

Ennoshita Chikara groaned as he dramatically turned from his side to flop on his back and roll his head toward the angry red numbers on his alarm clock, reminding him that he had mere hours left until it would be screaming at him to start another day.

Despite his frustrations with the late hour and constant swirling of thoughts in his head, he couldn't find it in himself to actually close his eyes and drift off. But, God, he should be sleeping.

He looked sleepy enough as it was. No matter how much he smiled or tried to convince others that he had slept enough, no matter how many hours he actually got, those around him always said he looked tired. So, he really didn't need actual bags under his eyes to go and add to his REM-deprived aesthetic. Honestly, it was really the last thing Ennoshita wanted, but he just didn't want to admit that it was time to let the indescribable day end.

He didn't want to fall asleep, because the real dreams of his heart played out when his eyes were open.

So here he was, absentmindedly aware that he didn't know the world was so quiet at 3 a.m. and that the stars could possibly seem so bright when they'd hardly caught his attention before.

How had she changed everything so fast?

It was like he was still coming down from heights he never thought he could reach — still catching his breath even though it had been stolen away hours ago. And his mind was absolutely racing, tracing over every detail of the day while his cheeks refused to let go of the extra blood and heat they held and his hands tried desperately to expulse his excitement through constrictions.

He should be sleeping.

But every time he closed his eyes, there she was, giving him that smile that radiated all the way up to chocolate eyes. Oh God, those eyes.

All he wanted to do was think about the way they shined with such pure, unfiltered love as the two of them walked through streaks of streetlight, hand-in-hand, and the way small creases framed at the corner of them when she was happy.

And don't get him started on her smile.

He never knew that one person's upturned lips could take the world out from underneath you until he walked into that bakery and saw her behind the counter with flour on her upturned cheek.

The shock that pulsed through his limbs had him using all his will power to not fall on his knees instantly and confess on the spot. In the end, he was only able to hold himself off for a mere 22 hours before he was back in that warm storefront, telling it's owner that he wanted to say that she was the sweetest thing in the whole bakery, but he was afraid the pick up line was too half-baked.

She heard the first part of the pick up line more times than she could count and told him so, but added, with a laugh, that it'd never sounded so honest as it did coming out of his mouth.

He never knew a laugh could be so addictive, but in that moment he was ready to haul himself away to rehab, he wanted to hear it again that bad.

But now it was 3:30 in the morning and any chances of hearing that laugh at this hour were far in the future, tucked away the possibilities of waking up to her face in the morning and sharing quips over breakfast.

He should be sleeping but those thoughts have the power to keep him up for so much longer.

And today — even though it was only two days after he first saw her — today he had kissed her in the back of her bakery as she taught him how to braid thin stands of dough together to make challah.

Her hands had been too soft, too gentle, too burning and even though he felt guilty for giving into the urge to turn his head and capture her lips with his, he'd hardly been the first to move.

They'd been so lost in their connection that the strands of dough in his hands started to go gummy from his body heat before they were unceremoniously dropped and replaced by the curve of her hips. Those perfect, perfect hips.

Ennoshita groaned as his eyes shot open again.

Four days. That's all it'd been. Four days, two dates and one mesmerizing kiss. He was gone. Over the moon. Beyond saving.

He should be sleeping, but his hand reached for his phone, his eyes searching out her contact without his brain's permission. His fingers had selected her name as if his heart was giving out orders to them directly.

She picked up in one ring.

"I can't sleep either," was her greeting. He could almost see the giddy smile on her face and all the tension Ennoshita didn't know he was harboring let out at once.

"Oh, thank God," he sighed. 

[In my dumb ass, romantic head this is kind of like a sequel/parenthetical aside to "You'd Be a Clown By Now."]