I do not own No. 6, if I did, the ending wouldn't be so disappointing! Oh, well, here's the first story I have ever written, so please be nice.
Sweet Dreams
You look so soft in the moonlight; I can't help but wonder how you manage to keep that smile even while you're sleeping.
'I trust you.'
The words have repeated themselves in my head since you said them. How can you trust me? I've shut you out and turned you down too many times for me to remember, but you can still say that you trust me? You really are an idiot. Or maybe I'm the one that's an idiot.
I remember when I told you that we had to be strangers, we couldn't be emotionally attached, but we were already past that, weren't we? I was so scared of having something precious to me, and I still am. But it doesn't matter, because it's too late to be scared of such things, when there are far worse out there.
'My biggest fear is losing you.'
How did you manage to make my feelings into words for me, when you aren't even the one who is supposed to be good with words? I hate to think about how much you mean to me.
I know there is no way I'm ever going to manage to get to sleep yet. I cast a critical eye over you. Your soft, snow white hair framing your face so delicately. Laying on your side, facing me, with your arms curled up to your face. You look so sweet and innocent even in your sleep. I watch as your eyes flutter, and wonder what you're dreaming of. In the back of my mind, I can't help but hope that it's me.
Before I can stop myself, I'm leaning over and pressing my lips to yours, and I feel that same electricity that I felt when you kissed me 'good-night'. There were no fireworks, or any of those stupid metaphors that I have read about, no it was better, because this was real.
I quickly rolled over to face the wall, unconsciously touching my lips before whispering a good-night. There was no way, I could face him after what I just did. As I drifted off to sleep, I missed those crimson eyes fluttering open and a small smile appearing on those naïve features. I missed the muttered, ' good-night, Nezumii' and the way he fell asleep with an even softer smile than before, dreaming about 12 year old boys climbing into open windows, kisses, and dancing.
