Maybe (Enorace)

Bit weak that

We spent hours in the basement together over the next few weeks: every time he had another episode, I'd drag him down and we'd experiment with my homunculi. His dreams grew less and less frequent, but our midnight basement meetings if anything grew more so.

"So. Can I just say that I've got about three hours of sleep everyday this week?" He frowned.

"Welcome to my world. Pretty weak. I can run on two a day for a fortnight."

"I am practically the master of not sleeping! I'm the one with the prophetic dreams, remember? I should be the one saying welcome to my world. Plus, I can do two hours a day for three weeks. Wanna call me weak?" Ha. He was funny when he got all ruffled.

"Actually, Horace, I think you might need to report your problem to Miss Peregrine. It doesn't sound healthy."

"Idiot."

I grinned.

The next day he awoke screaming at one o'clock in the morning. I immediately rushed downstairs to join him, where he sat at the end of his bed wallowing in misery. An admirable thing to do.

"Horace?"

"Enoch?"

"Yeah. I'm here." He just sobbed. Slightly awkwardly, I draped an arm over his shoulders. He glanced up at me. I felt my cheeks burn, and quickly moved to retract the arm. But he grasped my hand.

"Don't."

So I let me arm fall over his shoulders, refusing to think about anything else but him.

Dinner time. Again. Frustratingly. Miss Peregrine had been at me for days about this march I did on the village with my homunculi last week, but what can I say? I was bored! Marching an army of the raised dead on an innocently populated village isn't a crime, as far as I can see.

"So, Horace," Miss P said, turning towards him, "I've heard a few more disturbances coming from your room these past few days. And I have to say, Olive has come to me with reports that she finds herself unable to sleep because of some noises you are making? If you need to talk about this, I am here. But Olive has requested a room change for the time being. Any volunteers? Hugh?"

"I'm happy where I am, if you don't mind-" I interrupted before he could finish.

"Oh please, we all know you don't want to move so you can snog Fiona every morning without the Bird waking up."

"Come over here so I can sting your tongue off." I grinned. Finally. Some excitement. Miss Peregrine didn't look like she appreciated my efforts at liveliness.

"What about Emma?" I continued. "I'm sure Horace would be happy to prophesied her complete lack of future with Abe or Jacob." Jacob turned bright pink and Emma looked distraught.

"So help me, Enoch, I will burn your face off before you can even-"

"CHILDREN. LISTEN TO ME. Mr O'Connor, I politely invite you to shut up. Actually, I have heard that you and Horace have developed your friendship over these past few months. Why don't you swap with Olive?" Everyone was nodding, and Miss Peregrine was smiling.

"What? No-"

"Thanks for volunteering mate," Hugh said before I could finish my protest, slapping me rewardingly on the back. I was on the verge of slapping everyone in the face. They'd all be smiling when they found resurrected mice in their beds. Olive was telling Claire about her plight.

"Honestly, I've had no more than five hours sleep every night this week! I'm so glad I'm moving."

"Bit weak that, Olive," I commented, and she scrunched her face up in confusion, but Horace stifled a giggle. I winked at him.

Sleeping next to Horace's room was like sleeping next to a broken, wailing alarm clock. Sure, I'd been waking up and helping him for a while now, but it was always on my own terms, and I could always retreat to my room again if I needed to. But now it was just unbearable. It was on the third night that I stormed into his room, prepared to hit him or drag him down to the basement again if I needed to, just to get him to shut up. But his face as I walked in, ablaze with fury, broke my tiny, shrivelled heart. He looked...he looked...terrible. Heartbroken. And so alone. He kind of reminded me of myself. So I sat down next to him. He was sleeping in a silk suit. Typical. Without saying anything, I placed my arm around his shoulders. He whimpered. Sod it. I pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms around him tightly as he bawled his eyes out. Once the crying had ceased, I spoke.

"Want to talk about it? Resident expert at death here." He tried to smile and failed miserably. He shook his head.

"Don't leave," he whispered.

"I won't."

"Well if you combine these to make a double, then you get double the strength. Or you just get a weird personality combination. Especially if...what?" He looked very, very ruffled.

"I was just thinking about vomiting, rather disgustingly. You're saying that you actually combine these hearts? As in squish them together?"

"No, you idiot. You just put them both in at the same time." He exhaled loudly. I have to admit, he was kind of cute when he got all ruffled. Like the way his hair would fall into his face and his eyes would...wait what? No. No. I just...no. I blocked the entire thought out of my mind, vowing not to think about it ever again.

Horace had fallen asleep in my arms. I gazed at the way his golden locks fell across his sleeping face, the way this dark lashes fluttered slightly as he breathed, and immediately jumped to my feet. Hadn't I vowed, just two days ago, never to think things like that again? I shook my head forcefully and begged myself not to blush. Horace hit his head on the bedpost and shook himself awake.

"What was that for?" He asked. I stormed out of the room.

"Enoch, why do you keep staring at Horace?" Claire was looking at me. I nearly spat out my custard.

"I'm not staring at him." Horace was looking in our direction now. I hadn't spoken to him since last night. I couldn't bring myself to face him, I guess. No, that wasn't it. I just...he was just annoying, yeah?

"Yes you are. And when he looks up you look away."

"No. I. Don't."

"Yes you do, I've seen-"

"Claire, shut your damn mouth or I will shut it for you. I'll shut both of them, actually." She shuffled away from me and muttered something to Olive. After dinner we all retired to the living room. Jacob had brought back this thing called a TV from the normal world, and we were debating what film to watch.

"But I don't want to watch a horror movie! They're scary!"

"That's the whole point!" I replied to Olive. There was no way I was watching Princesses again. I'd literally puke in my mouth. "It's past your bedtime anyway. Why don't you just shut up and go to bed?" She winced and Miss P glared at me.

"I'm deciding," she announced, and put on an educational video about the history of America. We groaned collectively. I found my gaze trailing over to Horace. He really was cute. The way his eyes complimented his skin tone, their blue shade matching his perfectly unblemished skin, and the way his lips looked when he...NO. What. Did. I. Say. I HATE Horace. Kind of. No. I hate him. But...NO. Hate. Hate. HATE. Him.

Maybe.