Work Text:
05:47 am.
Closing your eyes, you let out a silent sigh. It is too early. Your alarm clock is set up to ring an hour and a half from now, and as usual you wake up before the sun even rises above the horizon. Laying your hand on your forehead, you glance again at the damn clock before turning your head on the other side to look at the bundle breathing beside you. How could she sleep through the entire night when you considered yourself lucky whenever you manage to get 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep? You have always been an early riser, never one to waste out the day in bed. You often tell yourself that she would probably be the same if she had been raised the way you had. But these past few months, sleep has eluded you more than usual.
Sighing again, you turn on your left side and let yourself relax by the sight of the slow movement of the wind-blown branches of the trees outside. It is still dark, but the soft glow of nearby streetlights catches on the glistening trees, their bark probably damp after several hours of continuous rain. Closing your eyes again and burrowing yourself in the softness of the blanket, you feel sleep gaining on your consciousness. After barely a few minutes of almost sleep, you are startled by a soft whine, and the rustling of the covers. It’s Emma. Opening your eyes, you watch her struggle against what is obviously a nightmare. You consider waking her, but after one other glance at the clock you decide against it. 06:03 am. Still far too early. You know that if you wake her now, there will not be any chance that either of you will fall back asleep. And you are both in dire need of rest, after the week you’ve both had.
Despite what her mother thinks, Emma does not deal well with physical touch when she’s dreaming. You think back to that time Snow had to go to the ER at 3 in the morning after trying to wake her daughter from a particularly bad dream. Allowing yourself a small smirk at the thought, you glance back at Emma to see if she has calmed down. A soft, but still very much there, kick in the shin, is all the answer you need. Grumbling, and despite the risks of getting knocked out, you still reach for her hand and squeeze gently. She lets out a few incoherent words and you cannot help but smile a little. Since you are apparently safe from any unconscious attack, you dare scoot forward a little so that you lay closer to her.
She smells of sleep, her hair is a mess. Resting a hand on her back, you let yourself feel the softness of her ratty old t-shirt and the warmth radiating from her. You watch her for a while longer, laying on her stomach, her foot peeking from under the covers, her head half buried under her pillow and her hand holding yours. She speaks again words that don’t make sense. It’s rather odd, you think, that she never wakes up from her dreams, even the worst ones. You always wake up. Grumbling in envy, you reach completely over her back to tuck yourself closer. With your other hand, you bring hers to your face and rest your lips against her knuckles, caressing them a few times against your skin. She mumbles again then, you shush her. When her legs kick you again a few seconds later, you trap them between yours. She’s very warm and you know that you will probably feel too hot in a few minutes. But for now, you are completely relaxed and your eyelids begin to drop a little, so, you don’t move anymore. Against you, Emma is breathing deeply again, and for the third time since you first woke up, you wonder with envy how someone can be such a heavy sleeper.
When you wake up again, it is to the sound of a blaring and very annoying noise coming from behind you. You keep your eyes shut tight, wishing for it to stop. She mutters something against your chest, and you feel her trying to reach out blindly behind you for the alarm clock. After a few more seconds of insistent beeping, you swat at her searching arm and simply knock the damn thing off the nightstand. You hear a very satisfying crash, and the beeping stops. Emma jerks, now completely awake, and you force her back against you. You feel her speak against your neck, irritated that you ‘forgot to turn that damn alarm off on a Saturday again’, but she soothes her words with scratches at the base of your neck. Emma is not a morning person, and despite appearances, neither are you. You know that she will be asleep again in a matter of moments, so you softly whisper words of adoration to her before Morpheus claims her back. You soothe her back to sleep with your voice and gentle caresses while she clings to you like a baby bear.
You enjoy the last few moments of early morning, allowing yourself to break your own rule and spend a few more hours in bed with your love.