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“Okay, listen up!”
Inaami announces abruptly, coming up from behind the round table our group is occupying. Pulling an empty chair from a nearby table, she sits down heavily with a serious look on her face.
“About the rooms I was able to get at this inn…” she begins. She closes her eyes and inhales a deep breath through her nose before continuing. The rest of us wait intently, and slightly confused.
“There's 3 beds in total.” she finishes at last.
We exchange glances between the four of us for a moment, and look back at her.
“Three of them…?” Lusine repeats hesitantly.
“That’s all they had left, I’m afraid.” our leader sighs, dropping her somber shtick. “We don't have many options other than this.”
Well, it's not the end of the world by a long shot—possibly a bit uncomfortable depending on the beds, but survivable.
Wing sighs shallowly. “Ah well. We ought to decide on sleeping arrangements then.”
Inaami smiles and gives a carefree thumbs up. “Good spirit, Wing! Unfortunately if I take a bed, there won’t be any room for anyone else, so you guys decide and I’ll take what's left.”
We pretty much expected that; both her good nature and caveat of her imposing stature. It's nice to have absolutes like that to depend on.
“Ah, I forgot to mention,” she adds, “It’s two rooms; one has two beds, and the other is a single bed.”
“I’ll take the single bed.” Rafael barks, almost cutting her off.
It takes all I have not to roll my eyes at him, but I let myself get away with an annoyed glance in his direction. We’re on better terms now than we had been, but some things that guy does will always make me wanna kick him, I think.
Thankfully, Lusine clears her throat and says “I won’t take up much room, so I don’t mind sharing with somebody.”
Inaami nods. “That leaves Wing and Elyra.”
“Inaami, I think you should take one of the beds in the double.” I speak up, “Rafael and Lusine can take the single bed, and Wing and I can take the last—”
“Nope."
I stop short and blink blankly, being interrupted so suddenly.
“Huh?”
Wing’s eyes are closed and their arms are crossed. “Not doing that,” she says. “You move around too much, I won't get any sleep.”
My face heats up involuntarily. Do they always have to be so blunt at the times I least expect it?
“I—No I don’t! You're totally exaggerating!” I sputter—and internally curse myself for sounding so embarrassed.
“I am not!” Wing says back, looking stoic as ever. “You know I’m a light sleeper.”
“Wh— Come on!” I whine.
“Lusine, you and I can have the other bed in the double room. Elyra, you can go with Rafael.”
I’ve been completely ignored.
“What!” “Hey!” Rafael and I interject over each other.
I look at Wing with half-hearted betrayal. After all these years together! And they throw me in a room with him ? Unbelievable.
Rafael looks at Lusine helplessly. She, to both our horror, gives a only sort of sympathetic smile and shrugs. Rafael plants his head in his hands in despair. This time I let myself roll my eyes—melodramatic dork.
Inaami claps her hands together once. “Then it's settled!” she claims brightly. And so it’s been irrevocably settled.
The few hours between the late afternoon and dusk have passed, and it came time for the day’s exhaustion to finally catch up to us. In other words, time to hit the hay.
Dinner was good. The drinks were also good. Vaguely remembering the plans for tomorrow, and I feel good. Good enough to… Blissfully almost, nearly forget where I’ll be sleeping tonight. After parting ways with the other three in the hallway, Rafael and I silently head over to our room. I sigh through my nose quietly and get over the last of the childish whining in my head. It’s pretty far from the end of the world, I suppose.
If Rafael has any last complaints to bitch about, he doesn't voice them, and I’m too tired to provoke him.
The room is nice, all things considered. There’s a decent sized bed at the left wall—meant for one person, but wide enough to fit two somewhat comfortably—a night stand, a window at the back, and a modest bureau at the right wall. It’s a little dim but the carpet and bedding is tasteful and best of all, it seems clean.
We both start putting down our belongings and getting settled in. Neither of us say anything, but it's mostly because we're worn out. It’s not… uncomfortable to be honest. It’s a good change of pace, in the last month or so, compared to the petty tension before. I’ve found myself oddly relieved about it, even though I hate to admit the fault was mine. Bickering baselessly is exhausting and I can't say getting along with him hasn't been pleasant in its way.
I sit down on the bed to take my boots off.
“So how are we doing this?” Rafael drawls as he kicks his shoes over towards his stuff.
“Sleeping?” I ask. Rafael’s rummaging around his bag for something, but I see him nod.
“Hmm. You can have the floor.” I answer lazily. I stretch out over the bed and get comfortable. I fight so hard the urge to just melt after carrying bags and belts and weapons around all day.
Rafael’s head whips towards me after a delayed moment. “Hey! I called that bed first, you get the floor!”
“I’m joking, I’m joking!” I can't help but laugh; he looks so pissed. I somehow will myself to sit up so I can arrange myself properly. “But seriously…”
Rafael’s brief anger fizzles out and he thinks for a minute. “How about,” he says as he puts the rest of his things away, “one of us lays flat, and the other lays on his side. Facing away.”
“That’s… smart?” I’m a little impressed at such a reasonable and not-awkward idea. Good job, Raf.
I set my boots neatly towards the head of the bed and Rafael makes his way over. I scoot over to give him room. For all his casualness, he hesitates by a fraction and looks a little nervous. It occurs to me, just then, that… sleeping next to someone in a bed is likely another thing Rafael's not used to. It's more mundane than the bathhouse, but I still feel kind of guilty for not considering it. I’m about to legitimately offer to sleep on the floor, but he crawls on anyway. He stops, though, looking thoughtful again.
“What's up?” I say softly, hoping it’ll help him feel comfortable.
He points at me. “You… sleep on this side.” He pats the right side of the bed.
“Oh, uh, sure?”
“Thanks. I don't want to get kicked off.”
I open my mouth to say something, but instead grab a pillow lightning fast and whap him in the head.
“I do not move around like that, Wing is a liar! They're just being a big baby!” I say defensively.
Rafael just sticks his tongue at me and flops down on the left side. He pulls a sharp grin and I can see him laughing quietly. Guess that was payback for my little teasing earlier.
I kick his leg gently and get an audible laugh out of him as he turns towards the wall. I shake my head out of his sight, put out the light on the nightstand and take my assigned sleeping position.
Twenty or so minutes pass. I stare at the dark ceiling in silence. I’ve always been slow to sleep. My body prefers to lay in low energy rather than just sink into unconsciousness. In an effort to coax myself into it, I close my eyes and try to find something to focus on—usually the wind or some other soft, rhythmic sound suffices. Rafael went out like a light as soon as the dark settled, and I’d be lying if I said I'm not a tiny bit jealous.
After a minute or so I find myself listening to the slow and steady breathing of the body next to me. In and out. In and out. I slip quietly into sleep after minutes, or maybe hours, feeling comfortable and… warm. In and out. In and out.
I don't remember what I was dreaming about. Some jumbled, nonsensical kind of thing with no rhyme or reason, the kind that burns to nothing as you reorient yourself with your surroundings. What I do remember from it, was the sensation of something around my waist and up my back; something like an arm or a hand.
I find myself staring back at the ceiling, the dark wood now visible in the morning light, and still in the position I had fallen asleep in. The fleeting imprint of my dream is fading quickly as I blink drowsily upward. However… However, there’s something that doesn’t seem…
I try to shift while my mind is waking up but—there’s a weight at my side, across my middle, and I’m losing feeling in my right arm. Puzzled, but still sleepy, I bend my neck a bit to look and… Ah.
Rafael. I process this in parts; first, my arm is going numb because it’s stuck under his head and shoulder. Then I realize he’s got himself pressed up against my side with his head by my chest. Additionally, his arm is slung over my torso, holding on at my waist.
He moves in his sleep just slightly, positioning himself closer, and… brings to my attention his right leg that he’s got tangled around mine.
I am fully awake now—and completely locked in place. I glare at the top of his head pointlessly. The worst part about this is that I know Rafael sleeps like a log, and any attempt to wake him up before he does it on his own will result in pain. Physical pain. For the person waking him up, that is. I, unfortunately, learned this the hard way.
“You stupid bastard…” I mutter gravelly.
Rafael’s response is to snore a little and tug me closer around the middle. My face flushes without permission, and embarrassment finally sets in between annoyance and exasperation. Which just pisses me off more.
I pull my free left hand over my face and sigh deeply. What matters right now is figuring out how to get this dipshit off of me without him unconsciously throat punching me or something. Mhm.
Who would have thought Rafael to be a clingy sleeper? He’d been so slow to warm up to just casual friendly touches. Is he aware of this habit? I assume not or else he wouldn't have agreed to share a bed, right? I ponder for a moment if I should let him live this down in the future. It's tempting. So freaking tempting. But in reality, I couldn't live it down either. I… don't want to imagine how ridiculous this looks right now. I’m the second tallest member of our group and I’ve got a good 5 inches on this guy.
No, I think I'll take this to my grave.
His leg moves on top of mine, and to my disdain, I choke a little on my breath. Get off of me already, dammit! Flustered, I make a grab for his arm to throw him off, but stop short when he murmurs. I’ve gotta be careful about this. Despite the situation, I’m at a pretty disadvantageous position.
I think for a minute, while Rafael lays dead asleep and blissfully unaware of the predicament he's put us in. Maybe I could just roll him off? Considering our positions, if I roll carefully over towards him, he’d just fall off without suspecting a thing. Then I could just climb off the bed and act like nothing happened. As long as he doesn't act unexpectedly and, like, pull me on top of him or something.
I brush off that last thought. This could work. It will work. I take a breath and turn on my side slowly, carefully. At the same time, I just as carefully make sure Rafael turns over on his back—asleep.
As I thought, his arm falls off of me and lands softly outwards, next to the hand I have out to support me. His leg falls limply away as well; my plan has worked wonderfully. Kind of. It does leave me in an awkward position hovering over him. His head luls to the side, perfectly asleep. I let go of a breath I apparently was holding. Now I just have to very quietly climb off and—
Just as I begin to move, Rafael's eyes open. Reasonably, I should've just sprung away as quickly as I can. Stupidly, I instead freeze in place. Why… Why does it have to turn out like this.
He sees my arm next to him first, and turns his head to look up at me. His dark eyebrows are pinched in confusion and—Oh, he might still be half asleep. This might be lucky; could I just trick him into thinking it was a dream? That’s at least something I can tease him about.
I don't say anything, waiting to see if he rolls over and conks out again. He blinks blearily.
“Hi.” he says groggily.
Any embarrassment I harbored transforms into the overwhelming urge to strangle him. ‘Hi’? ‘Hi’?
But I can set that aside for another time. I’ve got one last shot at this—a final gamble in a frankly pathetic attempt to circumvent a few days of awkwardness, as if that would kill either of us.
“You’re still dreaming, Raf,” I say in the calmest tone I can, “close your eyes.”
The two second stretch of silence feels like nearly an eternity. I don't know what I’d be risking by moving, but I don't want to take the chance. At last Rafael's half-awake mind seems to accept that, and he gives almost half a nod before his eyes fall close and he rolls on his side. His breathing resumes a slow and heavy pace; he must have gone back to sleep. I could cry.
Carefully, as I originally planned—and quickly—I scramble off the bed backwards. With my feet on the ground, I'm safe at last. I exhale with relief and don't take a moment before getting my things ready to dip out. The precious last five to ten minutes I will never be getting back, so it seems like a good idea to just move on instead of mourning it. Before I can catch myself, I steal a glance at him. Jerk’s got the blanket and the bed all to himself now. He mumbles something and turns over, sprawling out over the space I left empty. I keep looking for a beat; blame it on being tired.
Rafael’s really not a morning guy, I don’t think he's ever been. The task of hauling him out of bed usually lands to me against my will, but today? He can just sleep in this time. He deserves it after giving me trouble first thing in the morning.