Dan Howell Imagines

Nightingale.

There was only a small crease of moonlight that seeped through the blinds, a thin white streak barely penetrating the darkness that blanketed over you.

You laid stiff in bed, unaware of the time and why your eyes were persistent on staying open. Though you were still, your mind seemed to run laps around the room, leaving random thoughts and scenery floating in your head.

You desired sleep, you felt the fiber of your bones craving for it, but even counting sheep failed to rest your subconscious.

Your mind continued it's wandering, thoughts of Dan beginning to form in your mind.

"Maybe he could help." You voiced internally, pondering about the comforts of resting in his warm embrace.

Dan was only an apartment room away and despite the heinous crime that occurred in Manchester, he'd always left the keys under the door mat, for emergency purposes you assumed.

You decided to leave your hammock of endless thoughts to lead your way to Dan, hoping he would be the remedy.

You made your way to him, having no trouble within your two minute travel to his door. Your entrance was silent, your feet stepping softly along the wooden floors.

You could hear his gentle snore as you came close to his room, his door cracked enough for you to see the soft beams of his fairy lights. You soundlessly opened the door, and crept towards him, surprised that he would even be asleep, night usually being his day. He as always looked beautiful even as he dozed, his lips agape, and his eyes shut softly.

Seeing that he was also sprawled greedily across his bed, you lightly tapped his shoulder, trying not to startle him out of his slumber. After he a few taps he began to grunt and his eyes sluggishly fluttered open.

"Y/N, what are you doing here sweetheart?" He questioned in a husky quiet tone.

"I can't sleep, and i wanted you..." you whispered, running a hand down Dan's cheek.

"Come here beautiful." Dan sweetly sighed, grabbing you and placing your body on top of his. Dan deeply embraced you, his head nuzzled in the crease of your neck.

He began to softly sing the song he knew was your favorite. You lightly smiled, kissing his bare chest as his words transformed into a silky hum. One of his hands left your hip and ran delicately through your hair, a relaxing chill surging through you as he did so. Your lids began to weigh, and your thoughts silenced as you drank in the moment. Dan, your nightingale, was the last thing on your mind before the world finally faded to black.