Chapter 4 Cure For Insomnia
The first thing that came to my mind was the 'where the hell am I?' question upon waking up the next morning. Believe it or not, this is a huge deal. I couldn't remember the last time I slept so well that I couldn't remember where I was when I woke up... without being under the influence of lots and lots of alcohol.
I let my eyes open just a bit and regretted it immediately upon feeling the sun shine into them. Another very big deal. I hardly ever slept until morning.. again, without the alcohol. I gave it another try, this time being extra careful. I looked up and was actually a bit shocked to see Aya sleeping in a sitting position next to me. Now it was all starting to come back.
His book had slid down to the floor, and I bet anything he'll be pissed for loosing his page when he wakes up. He still had his hand on my shoulder, and I suddenly felt very reluctant to move it. It was strangely comforting to share your nightly hell with someone else. Perhaps that's why I always try to find someone to spend the night with; the nightmares are the worst when you're alone. Then again, it could very well be the hormones.
Who am I kidding anyway? I sat up, letting Aya's hand fall to the couch. I leaned over him and turned his reading lamp off. Feeling the movement, his eyes opened and immediately shut again. That damn sun.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." I stood up and stretched my arms over my head.
Aya opened his eyes, with much more care this time, and glared at me. "We've slept here all night?"
"Yea, surprised as I am?"
Aya didn't respond. Instead, he just placed a hand on his forehead and looked around as if he had lost something. Finally, his eyes rested on his fallen book. He picked it up and frowned at it, placing it carefully on the couch next to him.
"So," I said, sitting back down, "how'd you sleep?"
He looked up at me for a moment as if in deep thought on how to answer that. "Well," he finally said as if the answer were a complete surprise to him.
"No telepaths screwing with your head?" I must be significantly stupider upon waking up.
Aya shot me a death glare and was out of the living room before I had a chance to open my mouth in self-defense. So the telepath thing was a touchy subject. Well, I'm sorry for not taking it completely seriously. It is a bit hard to believe.
I sat back against the couch and stretched my legs out in front of me. I thought about the situation and came to the conclusion that Aya must have recently been through something that has left him with a lot of guilt. Now he's manifesting this guilt inside his mind by making himself relive it every night. I've taken a few crash courses in psychology. Can't you tell? How the telepath fits in, though, is beyond me.
My eyes trailed to the couch, and I noticed that Aya was in such a hurry to get the hell away from me that he left his book behind. Well, looks like I have to return it to him. I grinned to myself and grabbed the book, making my way up the stairs without a second thought.
"Aya," I said as I knocked on his door. No response. I sighed and leaned against the wall. "You left your book downstairs."
After a moment of silence, he finally decided that his book was worth more than the cold shoulder he was giving me. "Leave it by the door."
I rolled my eyes. "Aya, this is childish. You actually won't even open the door for me?" No response. "Well, if you want your book, you're going to have to let me in because I have no intention of leaving it here. In fact, you have exactly one minute to open this door before I walk away with it, and you'll have to come get it yourself."
Sure enough, the knob turned, and the door opened just a crack. Aya stood behind it, in the shadows of his dimly lit (if lit at all) room, holding out his hand in a demand for his book back.
"You're not going to let me in?"
"Give me my book."
"I came all the way up here just to give this back to you, and this is the sort of gratitude I get?" I perched my hands on my hips and smiled slyly at him. There hasn't yet been anyone able to resist that smile.
As predicted, Aya dropped his arms to his sides in defeat and retreated back to his room, leaving the door open. Taking the hint, I let myself in and looked around the place. It was my first time in his apartment, and I was surprised at how cold he managed to get it in there.
"What do you want?" Aya suddenly broke the silence and brought me out of my contemplation. He was leaning on the wall next to his window and looking out, obviously avoiding eye contact.
"What's with the silent treatment?" I asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed so I could face him. That didn't help very much, though, as he was obviously trying hard not to face me.
"You really are dense," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.
I started flipping through his book, just to have something to do while we talked. "Alright," I was ready to give in, "I acted like an ass, but give me a chance to redeem myself. Tell me more."
Aya's head finally turned to my direction, but not exactly with the expression I was hoping for. It was a sort of cold anger mixed with a frozen pain; not the friendliest expression, but I got the idea that he wasn't exactly the friendliest person. "You think I'm insane," he finally said.
"No, I don't," I lied for the sake of argument. "I just think you're torturing yourself. I've been doing it for years ever since.." I would have gone into my entire Asuka story had he not cut me off just then. Probably a good thing, too.
"You have no idea what it's like not to be able to control your own mind." He said it coldly and seriously. "To have some else dictate what thoughts you think all night, every night. It's hell, and there's nothing I can do about it because the more I push him away, the more he pushes back!" His voice was angry now, almost yelling at me; however, he managed to keep his tone steady throughout everything.
"Aya," I said, trying to calm him and buy time to think of something good to say. "You said you slept well last night."
His expression seemed to soften a bit. "I did, for the first time in so long."
"And why do you think that is?" I asked, hoping to get some of the heat off me. He didn't respond, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. "Well, I have been told on occasion that nights spent with me are generally more pleasant," I joked, trying to diffuse the tension that spread thick inside the room.
His eyes shot up and met mine. All of a sudden, I couldn't stand that intense gaze on me so I focused my attention on his book. I didn't even realize I was still holding it. I started idly flipping through the pages when something bright red caught my eye. It was a bookmark. I turned to the page it held simply for the sake of not having a better page to turn to. I pulled the bookmark out, holding his spot with my thumb, and studied it. It was handmade, probably by a child, with thick coloring paper and decorated with stamps of various colors as well as the word "Ran" written along the center in a scribbled handwriting.
"You never mind your own business, do you?" Aya asked, noticing how concentrated I was on the bookmark.
"No, not really," I replied casually. "So, you're Ran?"
Aya didn't respond right away, but he rarely ever does. He finally moved away from the window and went to sit down next to me on the bed. He took the bookmark from my hand and ran his thumb along the side. "Yes," he finally answered, "but you aren't allowed to call me that."
I acted hurt. "What if I ask nicely?"
He looked at me with puzzlement in his eyes. "What difference does it make what you call me?"
"'A rose by any other name', right?" I laughed. "But I'd like to think that I can call you by your real name. Besides, 'Ran' sounds so much prettier than 'Aya'."
I got a glare for that one, but no actual response.
"So, who's Aya?" I inquired, hoping to get a little further into that head of his.
"My sister," came the response, much faster than usual. "She made this bookmark for me."
"A sister, huh?" I asked, leaning back onto his bed. I pulled my arms under my head and watched him from the corner of my eye. "That's unusual. Generally, Weiss doesn't really have any family. Omi hasn't the slightest clue what happened to his; he can't remember them. Ken changes the subject every time family comes up, but we all get the feeling he was very close to his mother, whatever might have happened to her. Me, on the other hand... well, I've never had much of a family anyway. Too bad; a sister must be a nice thing to have."
Aya suddenly became very still and quiet, and I felt as if I had been babbling on forever. "Yea," he finally mumbled and grabbed his book, placing the bookmark firmly back into its spot. He shut the pages and placed it on the nightstand next to his bed.
"Hm. Aya," I said, contemplatively. "Why would you chose to kill in the name of someone you love?" I sat up on the bed and perched up my arm on my knee, resting my chin on my hand.
"Are you finished aggravating me yet?" He snapped at me, eyes as cold as his voice.
"Yea, I think I've overstayed my welcome," I laughed and got up to leave the room. "See you tonight, then A~ya."
As I was walking away, I could almost feel his glare boring into the back of my head. I didn't especially expect him to take that comment seriously, but half of the time, I'm not sure myself rather I mean something seriously or not. Years and years of natural teasing kind of numbs your ability to do that. Although I wouldn't mind sacrificing waking up next to the ice god himself for another peaceful night like last night.
The first thing that came to my mind was the 'where the hell am I?' question upon waking up the next morning. Believe it or not, this is a huge deal. I couldn't remember the last time I slept so well that I couldn't remember where I was when I woke up... without being under the influence of lots and lots of alcohol.
I let my eyes open just a bit and regretted it immediately upon feeling the sun shine into them. Another very big deal. I hardly ever slept until morning.. again, without the alcohol. I gave it another try, this time being extra careful. I looked up and was actually a bit shocked to see Aya sleeping in a sitting position next to me. Now it was all starting to come back.
His book had slid down to the floor, and I bet anything he'll be pissed for loosing his page when he wakes up. He still had his hand on my shoulder, and I suddenly felt very reluctant to move it. It was strangely comforting to share your nightly hell with someone else. Perhaps that's why I always try to find someone to spend the night with; the nightmares are the worst when you're alone. Then again, it could very well be the hormones.
Who am I kidding anyway? I sat up, letting Aya's hand fall to the couch. I leaned over him and turned his reading lamp off. Feeling the movement, his eyes opened and immediately shut again. That damn sun.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." I stood up and stretched my arms over my head.
Aya opened his eyes, with much more care this time, and glared at me. "We've slept here all night?"
"Yea, surprised as I am?"
Aya didn't respond. Instead, he just placed a hand on his forehead and looked around as if he had lost something. Finally, his eyes rested on his fallen book. He picked it up and frowned at it, placing it carefully on the couch next to him.
"So," I said, sitting back down, "how'd you sleep?"
He looked up at me for a moment as if in deep thought on how to answer that. "Well," he finally said as if the answer were a complete surprise to him.
"No telepaths screwing with your head?" I must be significantly stupider upon waking up.
Aya shot me a death glare and was out of the living room before I had a chance to open my mouth in self-defense. So the telepath thing was a touchy subject. Well, I'm sorry for not taking it completely seriously. It is a bit hard to believe.
I sat back against the couch and stretched my legs out in front of me. I thought about the situation and came to the conclusion that Aya must have recently been through something that has left him with a lot of guilt. Now he's manifesting this guilt inside his mind by making himself relive it every night. I've taken a few crash courses in psychology. Can't you tell? How the telepath fits in, though, is beyond me.
My eyes trailed to the couch, and I noticed that Aya was in such a hurry to get the hell away from me that he left his book behind. Well, looks like I have to return it to him. I grinned to myself and grabbed the book, making my way up the stairs without a second thought.
"Aya," I said as I knocked on his door. No response. I sighed and leaned against the wall. "You left your book downstairs."
After a moment of silence, he finally decided that his book was worth more than the cold shoulder he was giving me. "Leave it by the door."
I rolled my eyes. "Aya, this is childish. You actually won't even open the door for me?" No response. "Well, if you want your book, you're going to have to let me in because I have no intention of leaving it here. In fact, you have exactly one minute to open this door before I walk away with it, and you'll have to come get it yourself."
Sure enough, the knob turned, and the door opened just a crack. Aya stood behind it, in the shadows of his dimly lit (if lit at all) room, holding out his hand in a demand for his book back.
"You're not going to let me in?"
"Give me my book."
"I came all the way up here just to give this back to you, and this is the sort of gratitude I get?" I perched my hands on my hips and smiled slyly at him. There hasn't yet been anyone able to resist that smile.
As predicted, Aya dropped his arms to his sides in defeat and retreated back to his room, leaving the door open. Taking the hint, I let myself in and looked around the place. It was my first time in his apartment, and I was surprised at how cold he managed to get it in there.
"What do you want?" Aya suddenly broke the silence and brought me out of my contemplation. He was leaning on the wall next to his window and looking out, obviously avoiding eye contact.
"What's with the silent treatment?" I asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed so I could face him. That didn't help very much, though, as he was obviously trying hard not to face me.
"You really are dense," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.
I started flipping through his book, just to have something to do while we talked. "Alright," I was ready to give in, "I acted like an ass, but give me a chance to redeem myself. Tell me more."
Aya's head finally turned to my direction, but not exactly with the expression I was hoping for. It was a sort of cold anger mixed with a frozen pain; not the friendliest expression, but I got the idea that he wasn't exactly the friendliest person. "You think I'm insane," he finally said.
"No, I don't," I lied for the sake of argument. "I just think you're torturing yourself. I've been doing it for years ever since.." I would have gone into my entire Asuka story had he not cut me off just then. Probably a good thing, too.
"You have no idea what it's like not to be able to control your own mind." He said it coldly and seriously. "To have some else dictate what thoughts you think all night, every night. It's hell, and there's nothing I can do about it because the more I push him away, the more he pushes back!" His voice was angry now, almost yelling at me; however, he managed to keep his tone steady throughout everything.
"Aya," I said, trying to calm him and buy time to think of something good to say. "You said you slept well last night."
His expression seemed to soften a bit. "I did, for the first time in so long."
"And why do you think that is?" I asked, hoping to get some of the heat off me. He didn't respond, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. "Well, I have been told on occasion that nights spent with me are generally more pleasant," I joked, trying to diffuse the tension that spread thick inside the room.
His eyes shot up and met mine. All of a sudden, I couldn't stand that intense gaze on me so I focused my attention on his book. I didn't even realize I was still holding it. I started idly flipping through the pages when something bright red caught my eye. It was a bookmark. I turned to the page it held simply for the sake of not having a better page to turn to. I pulled the bookmark out, holding his spot with my thumb, and studied it. It was handmade, probably by a child, with thick coloring paper and decorated with stamps of various colors as well as the word "Ran" written along the center in a scribbled handwriting.
"You never mind your own business, do you?" Aya asked, noticing how concentrated I was on the bookmark.
"No, not really," I replied casually. "So, you're Ran?"
Aya didn't respond right away, but he rarely ever does. He finally moved away from the window and went to sit down next to me on the bed. He took the bookmark from my hand and ran his thumb along the side. "Yes," he finally answered, "but you aren't allowed to call me that."
I acted hurt. "What if I ask nicely?"
He looked at me with puzzlement in his eyes. "What difference does it make what you call me?"
"'A rose by any other name', right?" I laughed. "But I'd like to think that I can call you by your real name. Besides, 'Ran' sounds so much prettier than 'Aya'."
I got a glare for that one, but no actual response.
"So, who's Aya?" I inquired, hoping to get a little further into that head of his.
"My sister," came the response, much faster than usual. "She made this bookmark for me."
"A sister, huh?" I asked, leaning back onto his bed. I pulled my arms under my head and watched him from the corner of my eye. "That's unusual. Generally, Weiss doesn't really have any family. Omi hasn't the slightest clue what happened to his; he can't remember them. Ken changes the subject every time family comes up, but we all get the feeling he was very close to his mother, whatever might have happened to her. Me, on the other hand... well, I've never had much of a family anyway. Too bad; a sister must be a nice thing to have."
Aya suddenly became very still and quiet, and I felt as if I had been babbling on forever. "Yea," he finally mumbled and grabbed his book, placing the bookmark firmly back into its spot. He shut the pages and placed it on the nightstand next to his bed.
"Hm. Aya," I said, contemplatively. "Why would you chose to kill in the name of someone you love?" I sat up on the bed and perched up my arm on my knee, resting my chin on my hand.
"Are you finished aggravating me yet?" He snapped at me, eyes as cold as his voice.
"Yea, I think I've overstayed my welcome," I laughed and got up to leave the room. "See you tonight, then A~ya."
As I was walking away, I could almost feel his glare boring into the back of my head. I didn't especially expect him to take that comment seriously, but half of the time, I'm not sure myself rather I mean something seriously or not. Years and years of natural teasing kind of numbs your ability to do that. Although I wouldn't mind sacrificing waking up next to the ice god himself for another peaceful night like last night.