ning thoughts because i'm bored in class and idk or care if this is ooc
If there’s one thing on your mind besides keeping yourself awake, it’s that you shouldn’t have bought Ningguang that bed table.
“You can sleep, dear,” Ningguang hums, voice just as smooth as the satin sheets beneath you. They smell like you. And her. And that fact is working against you in the battle of keeping consciousness.
“You won’t be missing anything.”
“Yes, I will,” you counter. “I’ll miss you.”
The energy drawn to pack what little a punch you did into the ‘you’ is significant given the little reserve you hold, and it earns a fond huff from Ningguang and a subtle quirk to her lips.
Nice? Yes, but your effort gets you nothing more.
No click of her laptop shutting. No gentle pass of her hand along your head before she moves that damned contraption that’s keeping you from clinging to her like a koala. No indulgent utterance of an apology before she kisses you goodnight and drifts off with you to dreamland.
None of that.
Instead, the tapping of her fingers flying across the keyboard continues, only ever stopping if she’s clicking to open yet another tedious file beyond what your brain has the power to conjure.
“I’m right here,” she warmly reminds you with a passing glance, but it doesn’t stop at that; it never does. Because you know that, now that she’s looked at you, she won’t be able to help herself from awarding you (or, really, herself) with some affection.
Her fingers press a warm dot in the centre of your forehead before she drags it over your eyebrow in a tender scritch. Your lips are pulled upward as if her fingers were puppet strings to them, and hers match not long after.
“And…” she adds, and your stomach stretches with the drag of her tone.
“And…?”
“And, when you fall asleep, it’ll only feel like a moment until you wake up and see me.”
Her fingers dip beneath your jaw to grasp it, shaking it from side to side lightly, and you move like a ragdoll beneath her delicate ministrations.
The chime of her laugh almost lulls you right to sleep.
“Why fight it?”
You frown at the question, and the expression brings a simper to Ningguang’s expression. She squeezes a little tighter.
“You are much too adorable, sometimes.”
Ningguang follows this statement with an awkward bend to press her lips to your forehead.
“’Sometimes’?”
“Go to sleep, darling.”
Her tone is chiding, but it settles finally as she tugs the covers further up to your chin.
The battle has been fought, and she won with ease, as always, and your yawn is your flag of concession.
When you finally answer when sleep knocks for the nth time, Ningguang heaves a sigh.
Truly, you were closer to besting her than you may think, because now, her laptop does click shut. Now, the warmth of her hand caressing your hair seeps into your dream. Now, she whispers an apology as she sets the table to the floor, wrapping herself around you before her eyes fall shut just to match yours.














