I Saw a Lunar Eclipse
Dan Heng x Reader (1.6k words)
You’ve returned from Penacony and you could not be more ecstatic! Sure, you’re tired, beaten down, exhausted — but your favorite Cold Dragon is waiting for you just around the corner.
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You don’t think you’ve ever been happier returning to the Astral Express.
Sure, you were a bit upset at the fact Sunday is a passenger now (sue you for being mad he tried to kill you guys), but overall you were ecstatic. Maybe it had something to do with a particular Vidyadhara residing in the archives, but who’s to say that that’s true. If you never voiced it, it wouldn’t be true.
Despite how badly you wanted to talk to him, to update him on everything that had transpired, you were tired. Turns out almost dying a couple of times will do that to you! Regardless, you dragged your feet over to the archives. Graciously, Pom Pom was letting everyone have a rest period before deciding on the next destination. You intended to take full advantage of that grace period.
You slide the door to the passenger cabin open and quickly make your way to the archives. Not bothering to knock, you open the door and head in, ignoring the catch and leaning against the shelf. You slowly slide yourself down until you’re in a sitting position with your knees against your chest.
You let a small sigh escape, attempting to push all the air out of your lungs before inhaling deeply again. This is nice. Your eyelids slowly flutter shut, heavy with the weight of exhaustion.
“You look terrible,” the tone is laced with amusement, and you don’t even have to look up to know who it is.
“Hello to you too,” you mumble, letting your head fall back against the shelf as you make eye contact with him. “Missed you.”
Dan Heng huffed, turning his body away from the shelf he was pondering over to face you fully.
“How was Penacony?” he asked, walking over to his desk. You watch as he pulls out the chair, swiveling it around to face you before he sits down. “Besides the obvious.”
“Eventful,” you sigh, your head lolling to the side. “Loud. You would’ve hated it.”
“I see.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“That’s it? No follow-up questions?”
“I assumed you’d elaborate.”
He was right. He always is.
“We were trapped in some sort of Dreamscape,” you explain, unfurling your legs from your chest, letting them lay against the ground. “It was really confusing. And Sunday was a part of it.”
“And I assume you’re not thrilled with the decision to let him stay?” It was almost scary how accurately Dan Heng could read you. You normally ignore it, chalking it up to the fact he’s who you spend most of your time with when on the Express. But it does become unsettling when he always seems to be two steps ahead of you at all times.
“I’m not ecstatic,” is your eventual answer. “I believe he had good intentions and that he can choose to be better with a bit of guidance… but it’s not like I can just forget everything, you know?”
He nods, folding his arms loosely against his chest and leaning back against the seat.
“And you’re unharmed?”
You shrug. Averting your eyes, you choose to look at the books on the shelf instead of his face.
“For the most part.”
You hear him grumble under his breath as he shifts in his chair.
“It’s nothing a bit of rest can’t fix,” you reassure him. Your words hold truth to them. You can already feel the sweet warmth of sleep and relaxation is calling out your name. It’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist.
“Don’t fall asleep here,” Dan Heng chides, having noticed your struggle to keep your eyes open. “You’re just going to wake up feeling more sore.”
“I’ll be fine,” the words are slurred out, evident of your exhaustion. “It’s comfortable down here.”
“It’s really not…”
“HEY, DAN HENG!” You groan at the intrusion, your eyes fluttering back open. Dan Heng’s eyebrows twitch a bit. You bite back a grin. “HAVE YOU SEEN-? Oh.”
“Hello, March,” your voice is dull and laced with tiredness. “I’m in here.”
March 7th leans into the doorway, her eyes widening slightly as she spots you. A knowing grin forms on her face.
“Oh,” she grins, looking between the two of you. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Yes.”
“No,” you answer at the same time as Dan Heng, your head tipping against the shelf. “Unless you count me slowly dying as something.”
“You’re not dying,” she groans exasperatedly, simultaneously stomping her foot against the floor like a sulking child.
“Sure feels like it.”
March steps into the room to walk over to stand by you. She crouches down in front of you, tilting her head as she studies your face. There’s a brief pause. It’s a rare moment where March isn’t talking. The headache you hadn’t realized was persisting relieved itself at the quiet. You should thank the Aeons for this momentary silence.
“You really do look terrible,” alas, the silence is broken.
“You’re both so kind to me,” you huff, rolling your eyes and pushing her head away with your index finger. “Truly, I feel so loved.”
Behind her, Dan Heng exhales softly. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already run out of patience for the two of you. All you need is for Stelle to join and then you’d get to tip him over the edge.
“That's because you decided to sleep on the floor,” he says, standing up and moving closer. “Which you're not going to do.”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
“You were about to be.”
“To-ma-to, to-mah-to.”
“Well as much fun as I am having here,” March interrupts you two. Looking away from Dan Heng, you notice her shuffling towards the door. “I’m going to be taking my leave and getting some sleep. I suggest you do the same!”
“I will,” you smile at her as she waves and skips off.
“You plan to get up anytime soon?” Dan Heng’s voice breaks the silence that had formed at March’s departure. You let out a disgruntled grunt, shaking your head.
“I can’t feel my legs.”
“Likely story.”
“It’s trueeeee,” you whine, shutting your eyes again. “I’m tired and can’t feel my legs!”
Another sigh. You’re surprised he hasn’t dragged you out of the archives by your hair yet.
“Well, you need to sleep in your bed. It’ll be more comfortable than the floor.”
You don’t answer. You know he’s right. He always is.
“Are you okay with me touching you?” The sudden question has your eyes flying open and your neck snapping so you can look at him. He’s standing next to you now, his feet in line with your thighs.
“Am I okay with you doing what?”
“Touching you,” his face remains impassive. “I’m going to carry you to your room.”
You splutter. Your eyes flitter around, looking anywhere but him as he continues to look at you. Heat rises to your cheeks and you try and will it back down.
“I’m… fine… with it,” you eventually manage to get out, clearing your throat at the end of your sentence.
“Bend your knees.”
You do as he says, bringing your knees up to your chest. As you’re doing so, he bends down, one arm sliding behind your back, and the other under your knees. He stands up quickly, causing you to throw your arms around his neck to secure yourself against him.
“Are you okay?”
You nod, opting not to trust your voice as you lean against his chest. You feel his hands tighten their grip on you as he makes his way to leave the archives, walking down the hallway to the Party Car, where your and Stelle’s room are.
You appreciated your rooms being further away from the rest of the crew; you did enjoy your privacy. But sometimes, it felt lonely. It felt empty, too far away from them. It was distant.
You have never been more thankful for the distance until now.
The more time you can spend in his arms, the better.
You rest your head more fully against him, eyes slipping shut again as the gentle sway of his steps lulls you further into that hazy in-between state of awake and asleep. Your arms loosen their grip on his neck, and you feel his grip tighten as they do.
“We’re here,” the moment ends too soon and you find yourself reluctant to let go.
Dan Heng moves to your bedside, gently laying you down on the duvet. Hesitantly, you let go of him, allowing yourself to be set down.
“Are you going to be okay with sleeping here?” He asks, standing over the side of your bed as you look up at him from your fetus position.
Your mouth dries. You don’t want him to leave. You want to spend more time with him. But you’re tired. So tired.
“Can you stay with me?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind can berate you for even thinking of such a thing. His eyes widen a bit as he looks down at you.
“I don’t think that would be a smart idea,” you choose to ignore whatever that means, your mind hazing as sleep tries to take over your body.
“Couch,” is the only word you say. He turns to look at the couch a few feet away from your bed. It’s across from your bed, so if you both lay on a certain side, you’d be facing each other.
“I suppose one night wouldn’t hurt,” is the last thing you hear before you fade out of consciousness. A light brush on your forehead displaces some of your hair before something quickly pressed against it before the sound of shuffling moves away from you.
Strange.