a sleepless soliloquy ✦ — chapter one: entry #520
— ❝ within the walls of the data bank, dan heng finds himself standing before an empty document presented against a screen. with insomnia biting at him once more, he begins to write about his latest dilemma. ❞
# a dan heng/reader || 1660 words || masterlist || ao3 fic link # author's note: yayay my first work ever posted !! hope you enjoy !! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )
With the late night passing through time, the stars drift alongside Dan Heng as he boots up the Data Bank out of a whim. While soaring through the vast cosmos, this fickle moment leads to the holographic keyboard sparking to life, the cursor blinking in and out of existence as it invites him to write a new log. The empty page that sits before him would only further taunt him as it silently sets the stage of something he would soon fall into a deep regret later.
Just for this moment, he allows himself to imagine what he should compose on this new, blank entry.
This was yet another case of insomnia — the archivist convinced himself of it. He was no stranger to these sleepless nights, as they were typically spent catching up on reading for a book or two. His fingers fit nicely against the parchment of each clever story within his collection, he thought absentmindedly, chuckling softly to himself. Adding and writing an entry to the Data Bank just so happened to be one of these very things he did to combat the tireless night.
A new journal entry, he finally concluded. Perhaps one regarding the latest thing on his mind.
Putting one’s thoughts to pen-on-paper was a simple enough of a premise. One that has become a common practice for him.
However, much to his dismay, this night was a far cry from the standard nightmare weaving its way into his mind. This single thought was enough for him to make him pause with his narration. He mourns the nights where that was the standard nightmare — easy, predictable, yet ideally his.
For you were the reason keeping him up tonight.
There was something about this particular moment when both you and Dan Heng were paired off to cleaning duty the Party Car. With a quip of a bad joke or two, he found his gaze lingering on your face, so full of laughter from the poor attempts of humor you had made. His lips turned upwards with a trace of affection laced beneath his wry expression. From that day onward, his heartbeat would begin speeding up in rhythm at the sight of something so sickeningly sweet; that moment of happiness marking the spark of his growing affection for you.
He draws his lips into a thin line at the recollection, his mind playing the moment over and over again until he reaches a limit. Almost automatically, his fingers moved over each key with precision, watching carefully as each word he typed out manifested his growing feelings about his troubling dilemma.
He almost sighs at the words plastered on his screen.
“I’ve fallen in love.”
Honestly, how ridiculous this sounded.
He’s certain March would tease him for all eternity if she ever found out he was in love with you.
After putting off something that has been on his mind for seemingly weeks on end — it was only tonight couldn’t get any further than that singular line. Writing about all his thoughts, feelings, and experiences onto a blank page put him in a stump. How could he possibly write about something that he didn’t have a fundamental understanding of?
Regardless of his frustrations, he’d continue to write — typing out a blurb of this hellish prospect as the night moves and passes with space and time. Past interactions, his new, profound feelings, and you. He’ll record it all. Record everything until he finally finds the words to form this new reality he found himself questioning in.
Instead of a definite answer, each word on the dimly lit screen would only mock him instead.
These words weren't… right. Nothing truly captured the essence of what he felt. Nothing could perfectly describe whatever mess was shackled in his mind.
So, with the repeated press of the beloved combo of ctrl + backspace, Dan Heng would watch as the tangent of spewed out nonsense shrink back down to that singular line once more.
Perhaps, this was something straight out of a childish fairytale. The words prior to the moment were to be described as reckless and foolish — all naivety and pure infatuation that he held for you. This curse that plagued his mind was nothing more but a passing fancy. That made the most sense, didn’t it? After all, he was running on nothing but fumes at this point; his earlier energy was wasted on tossing about upon his bed before blankly staring up at the ceiling and finally leading him to getting up where he stood now.
“I’ve fallen in love,” he carefully reiterates out loud, testing the words on his tongue as his weary gaze travels over the line over and over again. His brows furrow in a slight sense of doubt, his decision coming to a close with his next words.
“I… I think I’ve fallen in love.”
Though a bit exasperated, he sighs to himself, drawing his attention elsewhere for the meantime. From there, he stares at the diagram towards his right — the illustration of golden lines entwining stations, planets, and galaxies on the starry surface illuminating the low light that ruled over his bed.
Love. Love wasn’t anything like this as far as he knew.
To think he’s researched and gone to all these destinations just to find you some fateful day. A chance encounter, or something written in stone. He’ll never forget how dear he’d hold you in his heart from that day forth.
But was that really love?
By textbook definition, love was a feeling of affection that arose from a deep and personal connection between individuals. A grandiose myriad of seamless colours containing the finest literature and people of history would sing a chorus in honor of its perfect harmony.
Love was an emotion that sat upon a throne of ivory. To be witnessed and felt with a path of glory behind it.
As far as he knew, love was resilient, strong, and all things good in the world.
What he felt was a sense of deep dread when he thought about it. Love was a conscious decision, right? One he was not willing to be a part of.
Love wasn’t chaotic. It shouldn’t hurt or leave him aching with answers while carefully manoeuvring this nightmarish carousel of emotions.
With the endless bout of denial and confusion of the clamoring within his heart, he draws his gaze back to the entry — his fingers pausing over the surface of the keyboard before moving automatically like clockwork, finishing it off with a handful of words to the document.
He was an observant person and was known as such. He’ll learn how to adapt to the suffocating feeling and read between the lines while he sorts out data and history like it was second nature for him. He will figure this out like always. Yet, he knew this trait of analyzing anything and everything would soon lead to becoming the cause of his destruction instead. At this point, overthinking this any further would only make him ill.
He’ll settle for this instead. His solution. His answer. His everything.
A passing fancy. Nothing more, nothing less.
A complicated list of words written with the simplicity of irreverence. That’s what the words in front of him are and ever will be until the universe collapses in on itself.
But he knew better. Even if he wanted to deny it for as long as he wanted.
Yet, just for now, he can stay in denial just a moment longer. Foolishly and hopelessly, he’ll try to make this point known as a fact in his mind.
The morning after, he’ll wake up and greet you like nothing has changed. He’ll continue with his duties of being the Express’ guard and archivist, maintain his connections with everyone, and…
And…
…
Yeah, no. He really needs to rest.
While maintaining a blank expression, he slowly becomes tired from the dim display casting its subtle white light, his body growing heavy as exhaustion claws at him and reverts him back into a weary husk. His hand slowly travels up, pinching the bridge of his nose as he gathers the bearings consuming his mind.
With a quiet huff of exasperation, he pushes his attention away from the screen, contemplating about returning to his place of rest.
Going back and forth with the possibilities, he settles for less — shuffling back into his bed with a light sigh. The plush surface beneath him welcomes his presence, causing him to sink further into his mind as he slowly drifts off into a land of blissful nothingness.
── .✦ ──
— Entry #520: Untitled
I’ve fallen in love.
Though, I find it hard to believe so myself.
Still, I'll choose to believe that I've fallen in love for now.
All that I’m aware of is that I don’t understand the full extent of this.
The thing is, I fear what it means to be in love. The potential consequences that come with having such an ambitious feeling plaguing my consciousness leaves a feeling unease within me.
I fear what it may become of me if I loom over this for too long.
Although unpredictable circumstances are often encountered as a Nameless, I would have never thought that anything could have set me up for something as complex as this. Would this feeling alone even amount to the countless unforgettable journeys the members of the Express have gone through?
Yet, this feeling residing in me seems to have nothing compared to those life or death situations. Perhaps this moment was orchestrated by Aha THEMSELVES? All to torture THEIR next victim for the sake of entertainment.
But regardless of how much I write, and regardless of how much I attempt to research this, the experience of love may be the very thing that leaves me without words.
I'll estimate this feeling as a manifestation of my restless mind, body, and spirit. I can only hope my heart and feelings will quell as time passes.
For this will be my sleepless soliloquy.
