Fanfic: Cuddly!Pak Epilogue/Continuation

[silvercheers]

As promised, the short (let me emphasize short) epilogue/continuation thingy. I'm not particularly happy with it because it's basically more of the same, but I couldn't think of any other way to write it that wouldn't end up in massive awkwardness. And writing the scene where they both fully wake up is completely beyond my abilities.

*_*_*

Everything is warm. The world is a wonderful fuzzy haze, drifting through the benevolent darkness on clouds of soft light. Everything is peaceful and nothing hurts. A heartbeat and slow, regular breathing filters through the fog, soothing and quietly lulling.

When was the last time he woke up without that creeping sensation of a coming headache? He doesn’t sleep much naturally, the circadian rhythm governing his sleep cycle always wakes him before 4 and he rarely goes to sleep before midnight now. That not even counting the nights he doesn’t sleep at all.

Feeling a little more aware, Pak takes the time to consider why he can hear a heartbeat and breathing asynchronis to his own. That’s… not normal.

He blinks his eyes open, grimacing at the stickiness blurring his vision, and takes a glance around. Or, tries to. Pak can’t really move. Well, that’s interesting. And why can’t he move? Because he’s apparently having a mutual snuggle with Mhykol.

That’s awkward.

Pak can’t imagine how they got into this situation; he certainly didn’t initiate a cuddlepuddle.

He experimentally flutters the fingers on his left hand, the one trapped under Mhykol, but all that accomplishes is Mhykol scrunching up his nose and grumbling. Tentatively tugging his arm grants him an irritated tap of fingertips on his head. Which… feels surprisingly good. Pak does not like people touching his hair. Fact of life, nobody gets to touch the hair. Except Mhykol, evidently, because Pak isn’t even trying to stop Mhykol’s hand from brushing lightly through the long strands. He can feel his muscles relaxing at the methodical touch, letting his head thump lightly back to the other’s chest.

Mhykol’s heartbeat echoes quietly through Pak’s mind as his eyelids grow heavy, adding to the warmth he feels. The rhythms slowly draw him towards sleep and Mhykol lets out a contented sigh, hugging Pak a little closer. They can worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

*_*_*

End.

Probably won't be writing any more of this, k? I loved writing the original piece, but this was a struggle and I only posted it because I said I'd try. :D

Also, I was hesitant to do it before because my Skype is connected to my personal name, but I thought I'd gotten involved with the community enough that I made a new account without personal information, so, ah, how does one go about getting into Salad Skype? *hides*