Cuba + Reader

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          "(Y/N)?"

You grunted, burrowing deeper into the object you were using as a pillow.

"Wake up, (Y/N) . . ."

"Noo," you protested, not really waking up. "Mgh . . ."

"Come on, (Y/N). I can't move."

The voice you were hearing now registered in your tired brain as that of your crush. "Cuba . . . ?"

"That's right, now wake up."

You groaned and finally opened your eyes. As it transpired, the thing you had been using as a pillow was Cuba's chest.

"Oops," you yawned. "Was I sleeping on you?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It was . . . cute."

"Aaw~" you teased. "Is someone in love?"

He was quiet for a moment, looking at you. "Yes."

"Wait, what?" you said, caught off guard. "You . . . what?"

"I love you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"You're not joking?"

"No."

"In that case," you said seriously. "There's only one thing I have to say . . ."

He looked at you with such an apprehensive expression that you burst out laughing.

"I love you too," you laughed.

He grinned, pulled you into his arms, and kissed you.

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