Green
Thank God I can't sleep. Sometimes I wish I could be like just him, peaceful and prepared to go in peace for the tiring day, but if it weren't for my immune system, I wouldn't be able to witness the piece of art in front of me. The mixture of the colors of his room and the light of the night was indigo, the moon peeking behind his white curtains, outlining the perfect curves of his nearly pale skin, and golden, treasure-like hair. I wonder if he knows I'm still awake? That the best thing I see before I drift to slumber is the way his guard disappears as his chest rises and falls in breath. People always see me as the one who wakes up first, the one who cooks the breakfast, even surprising him with his favorite chicken sandwich. Sometimes, I am, but usually, we get out of bed at the same time.
He is my moon. During the dark, the only safety I can guarantee is in his bare arms.
"Princess." His enticing starry blue eyes glow. "You're still awake?"
I run a finger over his moonlit cheek, just to feel his realness. That it isn't a dream, falling asleep with a prince everyday. "Don't call me that." I move closer. "Mimi is enough."
"I feel ashamed that I'm your boyfriend and I'm the one who doesn't have a nickname for you." He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.
"Mimi is enough to feel your love." I kiss his cheek. "Your voice saying my name is enough."
He strokes my hair. "Having those philosophical thoughts that stop you from dreaming?"
"Not this time. I just like how you look like when you're sleeping."
"Do not start on a debate on who looks better. I'm tired."
I giggle. "Then go to sleep. I'm not stopping you."
"Ew. Is this a fetish?" I push him playfully. He gently brushes my hair, fingers cold from the weather, but his breath is warm, enough for me to stop complaining. "It's amazing how you don't get eyebags." Our noses touch.
I shrug. "You used to sleep a lot less than I did." And he didn't have eyebags either. I wonder if it's because he's french, and I'm american in some way.
"That was before we dated."
"Really?"
"God finally gave me someone who'll ensure me tomorrow is a greater day."
I giggle. "Tomorrow is a greater day?" This is new. His optimism is. I wonder if he's really a night person who can't stay awake. When he gets drunk on those late parties, it's like he becomes Taichi.
"Yeah. Because it's another extension of my life with you." How is it his romance is all over the place? Especially when I least expect to find it.
"Jesus. You need to sleep." I flick his head.
"Je te aime." He chuckles. I roll my eyes. He kept using that trick the first night we spent together.
"That won't work on me. I took European Languages as an elective, remember?"
"Vous ĂȘtes si brillante comme le soleil. si vous disparaissez je allais mourir."
"What? I didn't get that. You were too fast." He chuckles again. "Yamato, go back to being my peaceful moon so I can sleep."
He pouts dejected, never showing that face to anyone, except maybe his family. "Isn't sexy when I talk to you in French?"
I sigh and close my eyes. "Of course it is. It's also sexy when you look at me from the stage during your concerts, when you stay up to finish a song, when you look up to the sky like you're waiting for a star to inspire you, when you laugh and your small dimples appear, when you frown like you're about to destroy the world but is really just jealous of Michael, when it seems like you're ignoring me but really memorized everything that I've said therefore buying me those shoes and singing that song." He rubs my cheek.
"Goodnight, princess."
"You may have not made my Insomnia disappear," unlike my panic attacks. I don't open my eyes. "But you made me feel grateful for having them instead." Things I never knew were beautiful, you showed me. The little things I were afraid of, you fought. The things I wasn't sure about, you encouraged. The things that I thought could never happen, you proved wrong. One of these things, are us. I smile, burying my head in his bare chest, still not sleeping, but maybe I could ponder on his scent.
