Hamilton Mania, work pressure: deadline (contrast)
Disney, Sleepy: Write about someone with insomnia
Showtime, Cabinet Battle 1: ranting
Amber's Attic: BlaiseDaphne
Insane House Challenge: Slytherin Common Room
456 words
There's a clear contrast between the Daphne Greengrass Blaise knows and loves and the Daphne Greengrass he finds in the common room at four in the morning. Her eyes are shadowed, and she looks much older than her seventeen years.
"Can't sleep?"
Her green eyes focus on him for a moment before she turns her attention back to her book. "No. I'm actually asleep right now," she says dryly. "I like reading in my sleep."
Blaise shrugs. He supposes he'd walked right into that. "Fair enough," he says, sitting beside her. "Care to talk about it?"
Daphne hesitates for a moment. After several seconds, she sets her book aside and leans against Blaise, her dark curls spilling onto his shoulder. "Where do I begin?" she sighs. "Insomnia since I was a kid, made worse by stupid bloody deadlines and the Carrows' sadism. I'm falling Charms now, did I mention? Oh, sure, doesn't really matter, does it? The whole fucking world is ending, but I can't be outraged by that because I'm a Slytherin, and I'm supposed to enjoy it!"
Blaise stares at her, taken aback by her rant. Astoria has always been the more vocal of the two sisters. Daphne, on the other hand, has always been quieter, opting to stay in the shadows. She is a walking enigma, always drawing him in. This is the first time she's let him—and probably anyone at all—see into her soul like this.
"I'm tired," she says, her voice softer now and laced with notes of defeat. "Not just physically. Merlin, physical exhaustion is easy to deal with. I'm mentally tired, and I feel like everything is hopeless."
Blaise wraps an arm around her, his heart hammering. He's always found her beautiful, but he's never acted on it. His reputation for being picky has always stopped him. "It's not hopeless," he says quietly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Not really."
"What if it is?"
"What if it isn't?" he counters.
Daphne laughs at that, shaking her head with an amused smirk playing at her lips. "You never really struck me as an optimist, Blaise."
"You give me hope."
Another laugh. He loves that sound and makes a silent promise to make her laugh as often as possible. "I really do need to finish this," she says, gesturing toward the book. "Deadlines and all. May as well put my insomnia to good use."
"I have a better solution," he tells her, grinning.
Daphne leans in, lightly patting his cheek. "Goodnight, Blaise," she says, grabbing her book and climbing to her feet.
He watches her go, dark eyes fixed upon the hypnotic sway of her hips. He's making progress. Maybe it's slow progress, but he'll take whatever he can get.
