Work Text:
Mika prides herself on being a versatile sleeper. Housing insecurity will do that to you, she thinks. Crashing on friends’ couches, sleeping in college libraries, and even spending a night or two on the street— it makes you adaptable. Mika thinks she could probably fall asleep anywhere, assuming she felt safe enough to let herself drift off.
So it’s not a surprise when she falls asleep studying for the ABSITE with Jules. The beds in the tunnels are uncomfortable, but no more so than the bed she had in her van, so they’ve never posed an issue. Plus, she feels safe around Jules, and she feels safe in the hospital (on most days, with some minor exceptions).
But waking up with Jules curled into her side, their legs intertwined, their faces less than an inch apart? That was a surprise.
Mika blinks. And then blinks again. And then blinks a third time, because oh my god , her and Jules are practically cuddling right now and Mika can’t seem to remember how they ended up like this and every point of contact feels like it’s on fire and—
She takes a deep breath. She’d try Jules’ mom’s stupid acupressure thing if her right arm wasn’t currently being held hostage by the weight of Jules’ torso. Ironic, really, that Jules is the cause of her burgeoning anxiety attack instead of the one helping her down from it.
Mika watches the way Jules’ upper body rises and falls with her breathing and tries to match it. This she can do. They do this all the time. It’s familiar.
After a few breaths, her heart rate begins to settle and Mika finally lets her eyes focus on the girl that is practically clinging to her in her sleep. She sighs, before desperately racking her brain for anything she can remember from the previous night.
Jules was crying. She remembers that. She remembers Jules crying and the sharp pain it sent through her chest to see her so scared. Mika’s never been very good with people crying— her sisters could corroborate. She’s not good at comforting people— not like Jules is. She always resorts to the most practical solutions right away. And so she reaches her hand into her pocket and offers Jules the Yasuda technique. And she thinks it might’ve just worked, this time, to be practical.
She remembers studying for what must’ve been hours, knee to knee on the bed, not a single interruption. She remembers shifting to lay down on her side when her eyes grew tired and the words on the cards started to jumble in her head. She remembers propping herself up with her elbow and smiling when Jules followed to lay beside her. She remembers mingling breath and stolen glances and soft smiles and stuttering her way through definitions whenever she felt Jules’ eyes on her. Mika assumes that, at some point, they must have just fallen asleep like that.
And, at some point, a sleeping Jules decided to curl into her side. Not that she was complaining. She definitely wasn’t complaining.
She tilts her head to look at Jules’ face again, and suddenly an embarrassingly loud voice in her head is telling her to pretend like she was never awake— telling her to wrap her arms around Jules’ waist and sink into the warmth radiating from her body. Because, fuck, Jules is warm and her hair smells like lavender and peppermint and for a second, Mika lets the sterile hospital around her fall away. And suddenly it’s just them.
Being this close to Jules is intoxicating. Jules is intoxicating. Mika knows she’s staring like an idiot, but the only person present to witness it is lightly snoring against her shoulder, so she figures she’s probably safe. She revels in the moment, committing every detail to memory.
If ever asked about it, Mika would claim the kiss she placed on the tip of Jules’ nose was entirely under duress. Or that she did it in her sleep. Or both, somehow.
Jules begins to stir, and Mika snaps herself out of her admiring just in time to watch her eyes open just about halfway and, after a moment, lock with her own.
“Hey,” Mika murmurs, a smile catching on her lips without her realizing it. Her voice is thick with sleep and something else that she doesn’t have the time or energy to unpack right now. “Sleep well?”
Jules hums agreement and closes her eyes again, shifting herself further into Mika’s space. A lazy smile appears on her lips and Mika’s sure it’s the single cutest thing she’s ever seen in her life. And she has six younger siblings, two of which have kids of their own— her life has had no shortage of cuteness.
“I think we probably need to wake up and go pass the ABSITE now,” Mika whispers into the space between them, but it doesn’t seem to fully register in Jules’ head. And then something clicks— she’s still half asleep.
Instead, Jules’ face twists into a frown and she shifts further into Mika once more, this time pushing her way into the crook of Mika’s neck and wrapping her arm around Mika’s waist to pull her closer.
Mika doesn’t think there’s a breathing exercise in the world that could get her heart rate to slow down right now.
Her hand shakes a little as she reaches for the phone in her pocket and has to avoid Jules’ arm on the way down. She taps on the screen and watches as the time lights up: 6:45am. An hour and fifteen minutes until the ABSITE starts. An hour and fifteen minutes until the stressed crease in Jules’ brow comes back, this time without Mika beside her to reassure her that everything will be okay. She feels sick at the thought.
Jules is always taking care of everyone else. Especially Mika, if she’s being honest. Jules knows her too well— knows what’s going to trigger her panic, knows her anxious tells, knows how to calm her down. Without Mika realizing it, it’s almost become routine for Jules to help her get out of her spirals during long shifts. It breaks her heart to think that Jules probably doesn’t have anyone (aside from her roommate, Maxine, who has proved to care for her like a daughter) to take care of her like that.
A decision is made in that moment, and Mika knows she can’t wake Jules up. Not yet. Not when she’s about to take the biggest test of her professional life. Not when she knows Jules will be anxious from the minute she wakes up to the minute she falls asleep tonight. Mika opens her phone again, this time setting an alarm for 7:45. One more hour of sleep. She deserves that, at least.
Mika’s eyes begin to grow heavy as she thinks about going back to sleep herself. She needs the rest too, after all, and she’s somehow found herself underneath a Jules Millin-shaped weighted blanket.
She lets her right arm carefully slip out from underneath Jules and instead find its place resting along her back. Jules repositions herself slightly in response, humming absentmindedly before settling.
Mika uses her other hand to brush a strand of loose hair out of Jules’ face and behind her ear. She’s embarrassed by how long her hand hovers at Jules’ cheek— it’s tender and fond and she doesn’t think she’s ever been this… intimate with someone she wasn’t dating, which makes it all even more embarrassing.
This is her coworker, this is Jules— she should be waking her up and finding a different bed to nap on and maybe signing some HR paperwork, but she can’t bring herself to do any of it. She can’t bring herself to disturb Jules’ sleep. And she can’t bring herself to think about anything other than what it would be like to wake up like this every day, Jules nestled into her side.
Against her better judgement, she allows herself to place a light kiss on the top of Jules’ head. Mika smiles when it makes a half-asleep Jules attempt to pull her even closer, despite being practically on top of her already.
Mika sighs contentedly and lets her eyes fall closed. She knows Jules is half asleep and not thinking clearly, and she knows she’ll probably recoil as soon as she actually wakes up, but in this moment, frozen in time, they’re the only people in this hospital, the ABSITE is worlds away, and they’re both warm, comfortable, and safe.