Night Alone

Strike Witches-fanfic. Eila thought she needed a night alone with her thoughts. Sanya just needed sleep.
(Eila/Sanya)

Read Night Alone

Disclaimer: All things Strike Witches belong to Gonzo and a bunch of others, though I’m sure I’m not hurting anything by borrowing them for a bit.



Night Alone
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





A sudden shaking of the bed wakes me up from a peaceful sleep, half convinced that the enemy himself is jumping on my mattress before charging in to personally slit my throat, though it takes but a heartbeat before I realise what is really going on.

Sanya.

She missed her door again and thought my room was hers, and thus woke me up when she flopped bonelessly into my bed, probably already asleep when her head hit my rumpled sheets. Honestly, she is so incorrigible and helpless, I can’t help but worry for her constantly when she is out of my sight.

She is adorable of course, where she lies all curled up in the centre of my bed so innocently, it doesn’t matter what frustrations I have, I could never have the heart to send her away. And to imagine that tonight I had actually hoped I would get to sleep by myself.

It isn’t that I don’t want her here with me, far from it, if I had my way there would be no moment during days or nights that we were not together. I also certainly don’t mind sharing my bed with her, even though I suppose I should, seeing as how she always presses me either into the wall or plain out of bed and it is starting to get too cold in here to sleep without blankets.

I interrupt my musing by tucking her in, surrendering my blanket to this sleeping beauty without much more grumbling and do what I can to make myself comfortable with my back against the chilled stone wall. Perhaps I should consider moving the bed away from the window if this continues, or at least start putting an extra blanket on it.

Ahh, but she really is so very beautiful. I so enjoy watching her sleep like this, so sweet and innocent and perfect. My fingers itch to run through her hair or to caress her pale cheek, but as always I keep myself in check.

She doesn’t feel that way about you, I remind myself sternly and try to ignore the pang of almost overwhelming pain that accompanies that thought, like I do the tears that prick at my eyes.

I am not some soppy little girl that can cry and mourn over her unrequited love, no, I am a soldier and this is how life is sometimes. No one can promise you love and happiness ever after, and besides, if it is a matter of real love then that doesn’t matter. Even though she won’t feel the same I’ll still love her forever; I don’t need to make a nuisance of myself because of it. I’ll just stay here, looking after her, making sure she is as safe and as happy as I can manage, and if the day comes, I’ll do the hardest thing I have ever done in this life.

I’ll find the strength to let her go.

That was the idea, anyway. I guess I just never imagined that the day I would have to let her go would come so soon, or that the person she chose would be so unsuitable, so unworthy, of her.

No, that is unfair of me, Miyafuji is a good kid, kind and friendly if a bit naïve. It isn’t her fault that Sanya is interested in her, or that she does not have any interest for Sanya in return beyond friendship.

This is why I wanted some time to myself, I’ve got just way too many things buzzing around in my head that needs sorting, and, well, I’m not some kind of superhuman. I felt the need to just clutch my pillow and try not to cry over her.

Ahh, but look at her. She is blushing so prettily in her sleep.

Who are you dreaming of Sanya? Whose image is it that can manage the feat to bring colour to those porcelain cheeks of yours? What dreams are you having that can garner such a response from you even in sleep?

But I know already, don’t I? After all, there is only that one person that makes her blush. That is why I figured it out, how she feels about Miyafuji. She had never taken notice of anything or anyone around us before, all that existed was our private little world of just Sanya and me. Then Miyafuji came along and got her attention. And I have seen Sanya blush around her, the merest dusting of colour that anyone not so focused on everything about Sanya would surely have missed.

I sigh. It might be unrequited and all, but I surely love her.

My fingers itch again, just for the slightest caress. Automatically I struggle to ban the thought, but then it comes to me, the image of the kid and her grabby hands.

Would it really hurt any, if I just brushed my fingers across that cheek? This moment is all that I have, after all.

I feel quite sinful even though it is such a small thing, just letting the fingers of one hand slowly brush against Sanya’s cheek. It isn’t as if I haven’t done far more while she has been awake, wiped at her face or helped her wash, or whatever else she may have needed me to.

Sanya giggles and smiles in her sleep and I freeze, hand still slightly touching her face. Did I just wake her up?

“Eila.” Sanya breathes and giggles softly again, and while I lie here shocked to the core and absolutely immobile she grabs my hand with both of hers, holding it surprisingly firmly against one cheek. A long moment passes while neither of us move or speak.

“S-Sanya? Are you awake?” I manage quietly after a while, my heart, newly migrated to my throat that it is, beating so loudly that I can barely hear myself. “A-are you?”

In response Sanya makes this tiny smacking sound that suggests that she is indeed sleeping, and a sluggish move towards me. Amazed I watch as the smile starts to waver when the hand not currently holding mine reaches out slightly to find nothing. This prompts a tiny noise of displeasure, and with my heart still pounding I chance closer, within her reach to see what she will do.

The slender hand lodges in my top and the smile turns a sleepy brightness that tugs at my very soul, and the blush that had faded slightly returns. Then a sudden flopping motion later Sanya is in my arms, her face burrowing into my neck and her hand clutching at me drowsily.

“Eila.” She says and giggles again as she makes herself comfortable. My heart just about stops as I feel the soft brush of lips against my collarbone, accompanied by the slightest squeeze from the arms now wrapped around me.

“My Eila.” Sanya sighs contently and then there are no more words, just a soft and barely audible snore coming from the area of my shoulder.

Her Eila huh? Oh most definitely. Although her Eila thinks that maybe she has been a big fat idiot.

So I am the one Sanya dreams of? Even when she smiles and blushes in her sleep, that is because of me? Since when did I get that lucky?

I can’t help it anymore, I start to sniffle. Guess I am but a soppy girl in love after all, though I’m not entirely sure what to feel. I am happy because Sanya called me hers even if it was just in her sleep, but at the same time I am terrified that I will let myself hope for something that could just be an illusion.

So what do I do? I hold her close, wrap my arms and the blanket both around her so she will be warm, and place a kiss on top of pale downy hair. Though I’m not being noisy by any stretch I still hope I won’t disturb her sleep while I struggle to get the tears under control.

Of course this is the moment Sanya wakes up.

She simply rolls completely on top of me, not leaning on me as much as she is lying on me lifting her head to peer at me owlishly with sleepy, squinting eyes. She blinks at me and all I can think of is how little we are both wearing, and oh my god there is bare Sanya-skin all over me and... cold showers, I’m thinking of swimming laps, outside, with my strikers on. Back home, in Suomus. In winter. Yeah.

Green eyes open fully and sleep gives way for concern. Oh right, Sanya has never seen me cry, I think as slender hands cup my face, tilting me down slightly towards her.

“...why?” The question, when it comes, is typically Sanya. Why waste more words than needed, when she knows I will understand what she means. It is one of her many little quirks that I love so much.

“Eila?”

I’ve been silent for too long, now she is frowning and look worried. Though I want to reassure her and I struggle to find the words to do so, nothing comes out. I have not the faintest idea what to say.

What can I say? You are my everything, won’t you please love me back?

It happens so quickly, and in the end I don’t know which one of us is the more shocked by it, her or me. One moment I am looking into her eyes trying to find my voice, the next I throw words out the window because I choose to kiss her instead.

I am kissing Sanya. Me. Eila.

Ohmigod.

I snap back, a wide-eyed, sputtering and frankly terrified wreck, and if she wasn’t unintentionally pinning me down I would probably be on my flailing way out the door within seconds.

Sanya stares at me.

Caught by those eyes I’m not sure what I am doing anymore, I try to say something but all I end up with is fish impressions. Sanya tilts her head and draws slender fingers across her lips, and if I weren’t weak in my knees before I certainly would be now. Then the attention of those fingers shift from her lips to mine, and I can’t help but whimper at the sensation.

She moves so slowly when she leans in, making it almost painfully obvious that she is going to kiss me, and in taking her own sweet time about it she almost makes my head explode with the pressure that for some reason is building in my ears. It might have something to do with the fact that I stopped breathing some time ago, but that hardly seems important now.

The kiss is slow and gentle, and her lips so soft and not entirely closed. After the initial and instinctual quick prayer to whatever god that cares to listen, I respond in kind, and it is more amazing than I could ever have dreamt.

It is over far too soon, though I am not sure whether the protesting whimper comes from her or me as Sanya draws back. Her exhale sounds slightly ragged and it makes me shiver, but that is nothing compared to the look in her eyes when she opens them. Is that the red alert going off or am I just hearing things?

Sanya tends to be so quiet and shy, and looks so much like a delicate little angel, that it just never occurred to me that when awakened to romance she might be the passionate one. I am learning differently now, as she grasps my head with both hands and, with darkened eyes and parted lips, claims me for hers with such passion it turns me into a puddle of vaguely Eila-shaped goo right there.

This time there is no backing away, and what we lack in experience when it comes to this kissing thing we make up for in enthusiasm. We learn together, the shape and flavour and texture of this new thing we share, and the kissing is as unending as our shared delight and passion for it.

After a time that could be either forever or a single moment, if not both at the same time, Sanya does draw back after all and I, after coming out of my Sanya-induced haze, quickly understand why just by looking at her.

She is torn, she doesn’t want to stop yet, but she is honestly worn out. It has been a very long and tiring day for Sanya and she is in desperate need of sleep. I chuckle and caress her cheek as she pouts at me, and then carefully urge her to lie down. She protests a little without words and frowns at me, a slightly unsure look in her eyes coming across as clearly as if she had put her thoughts into words.

“I would like to kiss more too,” I tell her, “but what kind of a girlfriend would I be if I let you get no rest before your duty shift tomorrow?” Internally I am crossing every available appendage that I am not being too presumptuous calling myself her girlfriend, but armed as I now am with the knowledge of the velvet inside of her mouth and the electric touch of her tongue, I am rather hopeful that I should rate as something.

She blushes slightly and smiles at the sound of that, not the small and adorably shy smile I’m used to see, but a much wider, larger one that sparkles in the most incredible way. She nods happily and lies down, making herself comfortable on top of me as I lie there and mouth WOW to the ceiling. If I wake up in the morning and all this will have been a very elaborate and wonderful dream I will be one cranky witch, that is for certain.

Soft lips press against the side of my throat and I hear a sleepy mumble as Sanya tightens her grip on me. I ask her to repeat herself and she does, only a fraction more distinctly this time.

“...kiss more tomorrow?”

I chuckle and hug her tighter. “Yeah, we’ll kiss more tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Sanya.” I can feel her smile against my skin.

“Sweet dreams... my Eila.”

There is another soft brush of lips, and then within moments I hear the soft sound of Sanya’s snoring. I grin like the moron I fear I far to often am around her, but if it means getting to be this happy then I’ll be the moron anytime. A funny little thought hits me before I let myself drift into sleep lulled by her presence, and that is that from now on I hope I will have no nights alone in this bed.

After all, who needs extra blankets when you can wear a warm, sleeping Sanya instead?