Midnight Musings
Category: Drabbles

The digital alarm clock's harsh red numbers blinked mockingly as Hunter stared at them through bleary eyes: 2:37 AM. Beside him, Ophelia let out a soft snuffling noise and shifted positions, burrowing deeper beneath the mound of blankets cocooning them both in blessed warmth. Away from the chill December night air seeping through the old dorm's leaky window frames.

Even in the shadowy dimness of their shoebox apartment, Hunter couldn't help but be transfixed by the way Ophelia's features seemed to almost glow, backlit by those faint crimson numerals. The normally bright constellations of freckles dusting the bridge of her nose and cheekbones were smudged into a burnt sienna palette in this half-light. Loose tendrils of chestnut hair fanned out in a haphazard halo across the pillowcase. In that bleary, exhausted state of half-wakefulness clinging to Hunter's consciousness, he marveled at just how damn beautiful his girlfriend - no, his partner, his other half, his everything - could manage to be even like this. Wrapped up in bunny-printed pajamas and drooling slightly, mouth-agape in the throes of a deep sleep.

God, he was so bloody lucky to be the one who got to share this view. This private, perfect, peaceful vision of the woman who had turned his entire world upside down the moment she had first stepped onto that scuffed-up frozen pond back in elementary school all those years ago. Before Hunter could reign himself in, those swirling thoughts of adoration started escaping their confines as half-mumbled verbal musings.

"Hey Ophs...you awake?"

A noncommittal hum answered him, her shapely back shifting beneath the quilted blankets.

"Do you ever wonder...I mean, just think about if things had been different for us?" Hunter continued in a hushed ramble, his voice cracking slightly from fatigue and the weight of his meandering theories. "Like, if we'd grown up in some alternate world instead of as skating partners? Do you think we'd still...you know, be a couple? Wind up together no matter what?"

A sleepy tousle of red hair appeared from the fabric nest as Ophelia turned to regard him with one bleary emerald eye cracked open, brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and exasperation.

"Are you having those dumb midnight existential asthmatic thoughts again?" she groaned, clearly only half-registering his rambling queries through her haze of drowsiness.

Hunter shrugged sheepishly, draping one thick arm around her narrow waist and tugging her plush form flush against his larger physique. The soft scents of lavender shampoo and crisp, clean linen washed over him as he nuzzled the crown of her head reverently. "Maybe..." he admitted, voice pitched lower against the delicate whorl of her ear. "Just can't seem to make my brain shut off at night sometimes, you know?"

Ophelia let out a contented sigh as she allowed herself to be enfolded into the warm cocoon of his embrace, her eyelids already fluttering closed once more. "Well, keep those racing thoughts away from my end of things, West," she purred in a drowsy murmur. "Let me at least get some damn sleep."

Hunter hummed an affirmative reply, nosing aside a few loose tresses so he could brush a feather-light kiss against her temple. He felt the tension seep out of his girlfriend's slender frame at the tender gesture as Ophelia sagged fully into his sinewy arms. For a few tranquil moments, the only sounds filling their shoebox apartment were the steady in-out cadences of their mingled breathing patterns, slipping in seamless sync with one another. One heartbeat melding effortlessly into the next. As it had since the first time they cautiously intertwined their gangly teenage limbs all those years ago.

Hunter traced abstract, soothing patterns along the sliver of exposed skin peeking from between Ophelia's tank top and pajama bottoms. Allowing the hushed peace surrounding them to settle into his very marrow.

Until...

"You don't think we'd already be married by now?" he pondered aloud before he could censor his wandering thoughts. "With like...five kids at least? Or maybe an entire hockey team's worth of little ankle-biters running around, knowing us?"

Ophelia groaned, cracking one emerald eye open again to shoot her boyfriend an exaggerated glower from the depths of her blanket nest. "For the sake of avoiding the very real possibility of smothering you with a pillow right now?" She settled the full force of her drowsy glare on the sheepish Hunter, pursing her lips in displeasure. "Go. To. Bed."

Hunter couldn't help the low chuckle rumbling up unbidden from his broad chest as Ophelia swatted him half-heartedly. His smile only widened further as he pressed another teasing peck to the tip of her adorably upturned nose, eliciting a fresh disgruntled grumble. "Roger that, babe. Going to sleep now, just like you asked."

As Ophelia harrumphed and shifted to get more comfortable against the solid wall of Hunter's torso, one last drowsy murmur reached his ears. "If we did have five kids, I'm telling you right now that potty training duty is ALL on you, pal."

Hunter simply hummed a wordless note of wry acknowledgment, resisting the urge to rumple her tangled hair in playful retribution. He knew better than to push his luck tonight. So instead, Hunter cradled Ophelia tighter and welcomed the waves of exhaustion already dragging him back under into peaceful slumber, perfectly content to pick up their silly late-night musing at a later date. Perhaps in some future reality where five squirming little bundles did indeed call them Mom and Dad, and these quiet, intimate moments would ultimately seem like some long lost fever dream.