Mocha #2, Fudge Ripple #9, Vanilla #28, w/ Nuts - Sleeping Is No Mean Art
Author: Nikki
Challenge: Mocha #2 (a song stuck in my head), Fudge Ripple #9 (distraction), Vanilla #28 (mail/letter/package)
Toppings/Extras: Chopped Nuts (Butterfly Effect AU)
Word Count: 864
Rating: PG
Notes: Takes place in September 2034. The title of this is Sleeping Is No Mean Art. The song that Naomi sings is called Asleep by The Smiths.
Story: Second Genesis
Summary: Camille can’t sleep. Neither can Naomi.
Camille stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t an amazing ceiling, but she sure as hell wasn’t expecting it to be. Emmett may have offered her his couch while her son of a bitch landlord got his shit together and fixed the busted pipe in her apartment, but she knew better than to expect anything better than her place. They were cops, not stockbrokers.
Rolling over, she punched her pillow and closed her eyes, determined to at least try and rest if she couldn’t sleep. A few minutes later, she thought she might actually be succeeding until she heard the sound of coughing, the deep, painful kind. Glass shattering followed a moment afterward, and Camille threw the blankets off and quickly walked down the hall. She found Naomi in the bathroom, on the floor and hunched over, trying to catch her breath. What was once a glass of water was on the floor nearby.
“You alright?” she asked, carefully stepping over the thankfully large pieces of glass. She felt water soak into the ankles of her pajama pants, and had to stop herself from frowning.
Naomi wheezed as she looked up, and Camille couldn’t help but think that is was a good thing that Emmett joined the force instead of Naomi. With how she was right now, all big blue eyes and white blonde hair in pigtails for sleep, she looked years younger than she actually was. Camille had a hard enough time of it. Naomi would have been torn apart.
“Just allergies. It’ll stop in a day or two,” Naomi answered, voice a bit hoarse. Carefully, she started to pick up the pieces of glass and wrap them in a hand towel. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
Camille gave her a hand to help her stand once she had the glass and water cleaned up.
“No, I never sleep. Cop thing.”
Naomi gave her an odd smile, like she wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. “Right... Well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
She moved to let Naomi step by, and watched her move down the dark hallway. She was almost to her bedroom when Camille spoke again. “Hey.”
Naomi turned silently to look at her, and Camille wondered what to say next. “Since... Since neither of us are sleeping, do you want to watch TV or something?”
“...Okay. Just... let me grab my laptop. I have a few papers I need to work on. College.”
She nodded and moved back to the couch. Naomi joined her a few minutes later, and Camille raised an eyebrow.
“Lollipops?”
The blonde gave a small smile, unwrapping one. “They help with the coughing.”
“Oh.” They fell into silence, save for the noise that came from Camille flipping channels and Naomi typing. Eventually, Camille spoke again. “Your brother is a shitty cop, by the way.”
Naomi frowned, the lollipop stick between her lips making the expression more childish than it should be. “What do you mean?”
“What kind of cop doesn’t wake up when something glass breaks?”
“Oh, that. He’s always slept heavy.”
“That won’t last long,” Camille muttered, and she wasn’t sure if Naomi heard her or not. The lack of response made her lean towards the latter.
Silence fell again, and Camille settled on an infomercial channel for lack of anything else to watch. She stared at the TV for a few minutes, not really seeing or hearing it, before she forced herself to break the silence again.
“What are you going to school for?”
“What? Oh! I... don’t really know yet,” Naomi shrugged. “Emmett is lucky. He knew what he wanted to do after he got his Associate’s, though I don’t think Mama was too pleased about the fact that he didn’t want to go for a Bachelor’s. She was so happy when he got his acceptance letter to NYU. But I’m in my freshman year, so I have plenty of time to figure something out.”
Camille didn’t know what to say that, or how to continue the weak conversation. It was maybe half an hour later when Naomi closed her laptop.
“You know... my dad couldn’t sleep sometimes. She had nightmares. But Mama would always sing to her, and then she could sleep.”
“Yeah?”
“I just thought...” Naomi trailed off, shrugging. “There’s this song I like. It’s sort of like a lullaby?”
She really didn’t know what to say to that. After a moment, she also shrugged. “Alright.”
Naomi slid off the couch to sit on the floor, and Camille punched her pillow out of habit as she lay down. Pulling the blankets up around her, the still wet ankles of her pajama pants scrunched up uncomfortably, and she kicked to remedy it. Camille felt awkward, moving around so much to get comfortable.
It was after she settled down that she realized Naomi was waiting for her to tell her when to start. “I, uh. I’m ready. You can sing now.”
Naomi waited a few beats before starting. Her voice was softer and higher, more pleasant than Camille had expected. “Sing me to sleep... Sing me to sleep... I’m tired, and I... I want to go to bed...”
Challenge: Mocha #2 (a song stuck in my head), Fudge Ripple #9 (distraction), Vanilla #28 (mail/letter/package)
Toppings/Extras: Chopped Nuts (Butterfly Effect AU)
Word Count: 864
Rating: PG
Notes: Takes place in September 2034. The title of this is Sleeping Is No Mean Art. The song that Naomi sings is called Asleep by The Smiths.
Story: Second Genesis
Summary: Camille can’t sleep. Neither can Naomi.
Camille stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t an amazing ceiling, but she sure as hell wasn’t expecting it to be. Emmett may have offered her his couch while her son of a bitch landlord got his shit together and fixed the busted pipe in her apartment, but she knew better than to expect anything better than her place. They were cops, not stockbrokers.
Rolling over, she punched her pillow and closed her eyes, determined to at least try and rest if she couldn’t sleep. A few minutes later, she thought she might actually be succeeding until she heard the sound of coughing, the deep, painful kind. Glass shattering followed a moment afterward, and Camille threw the blankets off and quickly walked down the hall. She found Naomi in the bathroom, on the floor and hunched over, trying to catch her breath. What was once a glass of water was on the floor nearby.
“You alright?” she asked, carefully stepping over the thankfully large pieces of glass. She felt water soak into the ankles of her pajama pants, and had to stop herself from frowning.
Naomi wheezed as she looked up, and Camille couldn’t help but think that is was a good thing that Emmett joined the force instead of Naomi. With how she was right now, all big blue eyes and white blonde hair in pigtails for sleep, she looked years younger than she actually was. Camille had a hard enough time of it. Naomi would have been torn apart.
“Just allergies. It’ll stop in a day or two,” Naomi answered, voice a bit hoarse. Carefully, she started to pick up the pieces of glass and wrap them in a hand towel. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
Camille gave her a hand to help her stand once she had the glass and water cleaned up.
“No, I never sleep. Cop thing.”
Naomi gave her an odd smile, like she wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. “Right... Well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
She moved to let Naomi step by, and watched her move down the dark hallway. She was almost to her bedroom when Camille spoke again. “Hey.”
Naomi turned silently to look at her, and Camille wondered what to say next. “Since... Since neither of us are sleeping, do you want to watch TV or something?”
“...Okay. Just... let me grab my laptop. I have a few papers I need to work on. College.”
She nodded and moved back to the couch. Naomi joined her a few minutes later, and Camille raised an eyebrow.
“Lollipops?”
The blonde gave a small smile, unwrapping one. “They help with the coughing.”
“Oh.” They fell into silence, save for the noise that came from Camille flipping channels and Naomi typing. Eventually, Camille spoke again. “Your brother is a shitty cop, by the way.”
Naomi frowned, the lollipop stick between her lips making the expression more childish than it should be. “What do you mean?”
“What kind of cop doesn’t wake up when something glass breaks?”
“Oh, that. He’s always slept heavy.”
“That won’t last long,” Camille muttered, and she wasn’t sure if Naomi heard her or not. The lack of response made her lean towards the latter.
Silence fell again, and Camille settled on an infomercial channel for lack of anything else to watch. She stared at the TV for a few minutes, not really seeing or hearing it, before she forced herself to break the silence again.
“What are you going to school for?”
“What? Oh! I... don’t really know yet,” Naomi shrugged. “Emmett is lucky. He knew what he wanted to do after he got his Associate’s, though I don’t think Mama was too pleased about the fact that he didn’t want to go for a Bachelor’s. She was so happy when he got his acceptance letter to NYU. But I’m in my freshman year, so I have plenty of time to figure something out.”
Camille didn’t know what to say that, or how to continue the weak conversation. It was maybe half an hour later when Naomi closed her laptop.
“You know... my dad couldn’t sleep sometimes. She had nightmares. But Mama would always sing to her, and then she could sleep.”
“Yeah?”
“I just thought...” Naomi trailed off, shrugging. “There’s this song I like. It’s sort of like a lullaby?”
She really didn’t know what to say to that. After a moment, she also shrugged. “Alright.”
Naomi slid off the couch to sit on the floor, and Camille punched her pillow out of habit as she lay down. Pulling the blankets up around her, the still wet ankles of her pajama pants scrunched up uncomfortably, and she kicked to remedy it. Camille felt awkward, moving around so much to get comfortable.
It was after she settled down that she realized Naomi was waiting for her to tell her when to start. “I, uh. I’m ready. You can sing now.”
Naomi waited a few beats before starting. Her voice was softer and higher, more pleasant than Camille had expected. “Sing me to sleep... Sing me to sleep... I’m tired, and I... I want to go to bed...”