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Language:
English
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Published:
2022-11-17
Words:
987
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1/1
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2
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123
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insomnia

Summary:

you can't sleep, and apparently tangerine can't either.

Work Text:

You lay awake on the hotel bed, having a staring competition with the ceiling in front of you, you’re pretty sure you’re losing. You’d gone from tossing and turning, to counting sheep, to this, letting your mind empty out and staring blankly at the ceiling, waiting for some magic sleep aid to just hit you out of nowhere. The entire hotel room was blue, from wall to wall and floor to ceiling: blue. You’d gotten the room with the amazingly beautiful view of a mall wall, a mall wall that was just decked in huge neon signs, a truly amazing place to build a hotel room in. When you’d gotten the room, you told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, because this was only for one night anyway. 

You’d actually told yourself this multiple times tonight. From finding out you would have to work with Tangerine to finding out you would have to share a room. That it was okay, because it was for only one night. And right now, it was okay…because he was sleeping. At least you’re pretty sure he is, you’d been staring at one part of the room for the past two hours so you couldn’t see his bed, and he hadn’t been talking so that’s good. In frustrated defeat, you get up and make your way to the balcony. You may have a hotel room that currently looks like it’s in the deep ocean but hey, at least you got a balcony. It’s a small little space, but also big enough to fit its wooden desk and two chairs. You sit in one of them and prop up your feet on the desk. Though the balcony had the same boring view as the windows, you found it better to sit here rather than to continue your mindless gazing. You felt the cold wind on your skin and thought of the potential consequences your insomnia would bring you the next morning. You look back to the balcony entrance and see the silhouette of a man.

“Jesus Christ!” You jump, so he jumps.

“Fuckin’ hell woman! Are you not an assassin? Jesus…” Tangerine exclaimed.

“You got scared with me getting scared, arguably that’s worse.” Much different from the formal attire you usually saw him in, he wore sweatpants and a grey shirt that was loose but still showcased his muscles. Although you’d never admit it, you’d hate to be one of the people that Tangerine fought, he was very fit and looked like he could do some pretty good damage on his opponents. After the scare you stare at each other awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

“Can’t sleep?” He starts.

“No, did I wake you?”

“I’ve been awake for an hour.”

“Beat ya, three.” You point to yourself and he raises his eyebrows.

“Woah. Well, we should probably get some sleep, we need energy for tomorrow.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do these past 3 hours?” He just stares, probably because he doesn’t have a solution to his own insomnia. You continue:

“Besides, I’ll be fine, I’ve done jobs while sleep deprived before, it’s not the best but…possible.”

“So have I, got a nasty ol’ scar out of it though.”

“How many guys?”

“About…eight.”

“Pfft.”

“What?”

“Berlin. Thirty minutes of sleep on a car ride. 15 guys.”

“Just you?”

“Just me.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well it happened, and I got all of them.”

“Why’d you sleep so little?”

“I’d spent the entire day before training restlessly for that job, so much that at one point I guess I just decided not to sleep to keep training instead.”

“No fucking way I’d ever lose sleep to train for a job like that, especially not one for that twat handler in Berlin.” You chuckle, and consider for a second…

“Here…” You get up from your chair and roll your sleeves up, showing a scar on your right arm. “11th guy, I went to fight him but another dude held me back, and in my struggle, they were able to cut me deep enough with one of their knives.” You’re standing very close to him so he’ll be able to see the cut on your arm clearly in the night light, he holds it up and traces the scar with his finger, curious.

“So all that training was for nothing?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“I suppose you are.” His eyes deviate from your arm to you, although he still holds it. You notice just how close you actually are and your heart pounds, but you’re unable to look away from him. It’s as if he’s looking right into your soul. He actually isn’t so bad to the eye as you thought, his hair, even though he had been lying in bed up until this point, still looked perfect, this time with more curls than usual, and his eyes— although the nighttime stole away the color from them, making them look grey instead of blue— were perfect. You had your ranking of what you thought were the most beautiful men you’d seen in your life before, and right now, Tangerine was threatening to throw off that ranking. Your eyes betray you and your vision goes to his lips. His goes to yours. You inhale sharply.

“I’m gonna go to bed.”

You turn and quickly make your way to your bed, without looking at him. You lie, facing away from the rest of the room, and eventually you hear him approach his own bed and also lie down. Your brain is much fuzzier than before, and you’re scared to even move in your bed, as if you could make yourself invisible by lying as still as possible. The silence is even more deafening this time around in the room, and you wonder if Tangerine can feel it too. 

You can tell it’s gonna be even harder for you to sleep this time around.