Insomniacs

Morning shifts at the café had taken on a frantic sort of novelty in the past months. As the night meetings went on, (Y/N) had grown accustomed to less hours of sleep, although the adaptation had not come without its challenges. The first hour or so of her shift, no matter how busy the little restaurant got—(and in the mornings, it was never very busy)—felt like a constant dinner rush. Her attention span had been wearing away, and on multiple occasions she had needed to ask customers to repeat simple orders once or twice before she could write the whole thing down. Today was an extreme case.

"You gotta stop watching TV all night, (Y/N)" Jess tapped her on the shoulder, in an effort to move past in the tight hallway near the kitchen. "Or whatever it is that you do these days."

"It's fine," (Y/N) moved a step out of the way moments later than was necessary. Jess had already passed her.

"It's definitely not," Jess replied, plucking a new ballpoint pen out of the pencil cup that always sat on top of the fire extinguisher cabinet. Hers had run dry after months of faithful service. "I haven't even seen you outside of work in weeks. What are you doing? I mean for real?"

"A few things," (Y/N) sighed. She had not explained to Jess yet that she was romantically involved with what was essentially the prince of the mermen. These things didn't quite fit into the spectrum of a casual conversation. "I mean, I've been visiting that guy I told you about a little while ago," she settled on a half-truth.

"The one you got into an argument with?" Jess' voice grew stern for a moment, but she looked more cautious than anything.

"We settled that a long time ago; he admitted he got too emotional about it."

"Mm-hmm." Jess motioned for her to step aside again so she could return to taking orders. "I'd like to meet this guy," she called over her shoulder, on the way back into the dining room. "Soon."

(Y/N) nodded to herself. Jess wasn't usually like this, but admittedly the whole setup sounded suspicious. She couldn't blame a friend for caring. Besides, the daily exhaustion had become excessive. Every night, for nearly a week, she had been meeting him—they didn't know when they'd lose the chance to see each other so regularly.

Orm had accidentally slept through breakfast—again. His every move was slow and uncertain at trident practice, and his trainers unforgiving. More upsetting than his lacking performance now was the knowledge that he had mastered this talent long ago, and that the regular practice was just to maintain it. He knew he couldn't sustain this lifestyle for much longer.

The session was prolonged by a stern lecture from his sparring opponent, who had trained him for years, and insisted that Orm was capable of so much more.

"You've been on a slow decline," he had said. "If you don't shape up now, you'll never succeed."

She had been reading to him from a book of poems for the past two nights, but tonight, the letters swam before her eyes and made it impossible for her to concentrate as soon as she opened the book. Shutting the book again with a snap, she raised a hand to her forehead. Orm, who had been resting his head in her lap, flinched unnecessarily as she set the book to the side.

"What's up?" her question was delayed a half-second longer than seemed natural.

"I just thought it was going to land on my face," he replied. "We can't keep this up."

"I agree," she sighed, laying back on the sand. "I could honestly go to sleep right here."

"Maybe we should both go home for tonight, then. And cut down meetings a bit?"

"I don't want to waste our time, though," she protested. "I'm leaving soon, and then who knows what'll happen?"

"Nobody," he conceded, "but it could be months before I'm shipped out. So we should take care of ourselves for now." Rubbing a sore spot on his arm where he had been struck at weapons practice that day, he added, "I can't afford to keep this up much longer."

"I know that I can't either. I guess I just assumed I could rest while I'm away."

"You should try to enjoy the wedding, at least." Unable to gauge her reaction to the comment, he continued. "Or, if not the wedding itself, at least you can see your mother."

"I appreciate your perspective, Orm." She replied. She hadn't brought up the wedding since she had told him she was leaving, as the topic had already proved itself a source of conflict. It had been unexpected for him to bring it up of his own accord, and even to offer encouragement in the process. "I think you're right. I'll try to treasure it," she yawned and stretched her arms out on the sand above her.

"For now we should go home, I guess," he drawled.

"Will you get there alright? You sound awfully tired."

"I'll be fine. After all, Dorci knows the way if I get too tired to navigate."

"I don't like that," (Y/N) made no attempt to hide the edge of unease in her voice. "I mean, I don't want you to fall off,"

"I wont," he waved away her worries absentmindedly, rising to his feet and swaying to the side slightly. She jumped to join him, staggering as well before finding her footing.

"Please be careful," she murmured, drawing near. She tiptoed to brush some sand off of his face and kissed him on the cheek.

"I will," he replied, pulling her in for a hug and planting a kiss on the top of her head. She pulled away before she could linger too long, knowing that she wouldn't want to let go if she stayed a moment longer.