Wild Cards (JJBA Villains x Reader)

5- Nightmares

Dappled moonlight bleeds through lavish curtains, freckling Doppio in a gentle light as he sits hunched over on his bed. 

Shaken breaths stutter in the cold air, and a wet drip, drip, drip cascades onto his open palms. Hiccupped sobs blend into the gentle coo of the fan whirring just above, and light sniffles mix into the shuffling of others enjoying their slumber.

Nightmares are a nasty thing. 

It's hard to see with beads of tears clouding his vision, but he can tell well enough that the clock reads something around two in the morning. He can't wait for the earful he'll get from you tomorrow for being awake so late.

Scooting out of bed, his movements akin to a mouse, he fled to the door leading out to the hall. A glass of water would suffice to quell his racing mind, he thinks; surely it wouldn't be too bad for him to sneak to the kitchen and make one for himself.

One thing he didn't happen to consider was the stairs, his watercolor vision making it nearly impossible to navigate his descent. One step blended into the next, and in his blurred vision, he could barely tell the rails from the walls. 

The best he could manage was gently drag his feet along each curve of the steps, feeling for where he should place his weight next before committing. After all, he'd really rather not fall down a flight of stairs at nearly two in the morning.

By the time he made it to the main room, something usually bustling with life now desolate, he was surprised to see a figure sitting at the bar, sitting in silence with a glass before them.

The lights above the wine selection were on, and as he cleared his sight with the swipe of his sleeve, he was surprised to find it was you sitting on that stool alone. 

You stared almost directly into nothingness, pieces of your usual suit barely pulling together your typical upkept look. 

His footsteps must not have been as silent as he thought they were, for the second he went to approach, your head whipped around wildly to face him, the eyes as green as a meadow and as bright as the sun boring into his soul with an extreme emotion. What of, he couldn't tell.

Though, he must've imagined it in the end, him being in loops in all. They were gone the moment he blinked, his mind probably mistaking the bar light for whatever it was that he'd just saw. Really, he'd rather not think about it.

"Oh, Doppio, it's you. What're you doing up?" The subtle glide of your hand moving to hide your whiskey glass doesn't go unnoticed, but does go unmentioned. "Goodness, are you crying?"

He goes to quickly wipe away at his eyes, keeping his head low to hide his face as though you had yet to notice its flushed look. "No, not at all, I just got thirsty. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Would you like some water?"

"Yes, please."

"Of course, give me just a moment."

In cumbersome movements, you climbed off the stool and slipped into the kitchen, Doppio inviting himself to take a seat at the bar himself. 

The atmosphere was dramatically different than usual. In the same seat where some drunkard might hiccup along to a musical favorite, swaying with his drinking buddies in synchronized waves, Doppio rests quietly on the leather cushion, basking in the gentle, angelic light of the bar, and letting its warm rays sober him up from his nightmare, something he can't even fully recall.

There's a delicate clink in your amber glass as the melting ice meets the threshold of the cup it swims in, and he enjoys the silence that returns soon after. It's a comforting quiet, a cozy feeling that only comes with the knowledge that even some place as wild as this can fall asleep soundly.