#night dates

There you were curled up on the couch. One arm hanging off the edge of the cushion. The blanket tucked all around your body. The tv on mute, but still flickering the passing clothes over your content face. Your breathing was slow and even, your other hand held onto your phone tightly like you’d had been waiting for Micheal to get home from his shift. 

The scene causes Micheal to pause, and from where he stands just outside of the living something in his chest shifts ever so slightly. You had been slyly talking about the new light festival thing that was in town. Your voice is so clear in his head as he stares at you, ‘The lantern festival looks like it would be really pretty to go see.’, ‘They brought the giant ones, Micheal looks at this.’, ‘We have to go before it leaves town and we have to wait til next year.’ 

Micheal looks over at the oven clock, it was only now just seven-thirty, and they probably weren’t going close til nearly ten at night, so there was time. He should go take a shower, and drag you to bed with him. He should be worrying about the shift tomorrow, about what his body needed, about how his brain very much needed a reboot. 

His hand rubs down his face, and he lets out a sigh of defeat with himself. Micheal looks back over to you, still curled up on the couch half falling off the edge. Still waiting for his arrival. “Yeah.” He mutters to himself, “Okay.” 

He doesn’t walk over to you yet, because as much as he would love to greet you now. He needs to get out of his sweat infused scrubs and get clean before he goes out anywhere else. The shower is quick, his scrubs are thrown into the hamper. A good quick rinse to get the rest of the hospital off of him.

Only when he’s wearing an old pair of jeans and a clean shirt does he come back down and gently grab your foot from the overtop of the blanket. “Hey, honey.” You are automatically stirred from your slumber, you blink at him a few times. The sleep still makes you soft and disoriented around the edges. 

“Micheal?” Your voice is still thick with sleep, “When did you get home?” You ask. “A few minutes away, I had to get the hospital off of me.” You sigh with contentment, like Micheal coming home as settled a part of you that wasn’t before. He hesitated for a moment allowing himself the ability to walk out of his, and back into the comfort of your bedroom. 

Instead he opens his mouth again and leads with “Do you still want to go see the lanterns you’ve been talking about recently?” It’s like someone has shocked you back alive, your eyes widened quickly, the sleep seems to slip off of your eyes and frame like water on a duck. Then you're pushing yourself up so fast that the blanket bunches around your hips. 

“You mean the festival, right?” You ask as if you don’t believe that Micheal had even suggested going out tonight. Micheal shrugs his shoulders, reaching behind him to grab his coat before he could back out of the situation he had already signed himself up for. “I figured we had the time, but if you aren’t…” 

The word melts on his tongue when the look on your face  settles itself in his chest. Yeah you guys are most definitely going now. “Wait… I’m not… I need to be like…” You look down at yourself, your hand brushing over your face. “I need to…” Micheal just nods at you, and then you’re rushing to get off the couch and running towards your bedroom. 

The drive is a quiet one, which is not uncomfortable. It’s just soft and maybe it’s because of the cold air, or just how tired Micheal still feels even after his cold shower. It’s the type of quiet that tells you the rest of the city is calming down, how the streetlights are blurring past the car windows, how the traffic has lightened up the further you get away from the city. 

You do most of the talking during the ride. Most of it revolves around the festival. What you are hoping will still be up, things you have seen online on their website and from other people's posts. Micheal just listens to your voice as he drives, because Micheal will always listen to you. One hand on the wheel and the other holding onto your thigh like you’re anchoring him to the moment. 

Even though the thoughts start to drift in, and the exhaustion tries to pull him under. Your voice keeps him from falling, your voice keeps him tethered. Like something good to focus on instead of the past fourteen hour grueling ass shift.

 By the time Micheal had parked the car in the parking lot it was thinned out and nearly empty. “I think we got here at a good time.” He murmurs as the car engine shuts off. You’re already halfway out of the car. Pulling your jacket up and around your neck to warm yourself in the winter Pittsburgh air. 

Where the festival is being held it’s quieter than Micheal had originally expected. The crowds of people had thinned out, the pathways cleared and open. The cold December air had made the night feel still and cool around the both of you. 

The lanterns though, the lanterns were something else entirely. They stretched in all different directions around the property. Glowing with a sort of vibrant light that makes you think you’re in a fairy tale. A massive dragon that curls overhead, koi fish that are floating in perfect arches of gold, and orange. 

All sorts of different flowers that are blooming across the area in different hues of purples, and soft pink. Some larger than Micheal and others smaller fitting perfectly together. You stopped the second you stepped past the entrance. You stand there completely still and Micheal doesn’t look towards the lanterns instead his eyes track you. 

The way your eyes go wide as the lights from each lantern reflect perfectly off of you eyes, how your expression is caught somewhere between disbelief that you’re actually there, and complete and utter awe. “Oh…” You whisper to yourself, and all the sudden the exhaustion that is pushing through Micheals veins doesn’t matter anymore. 

“So you like it?” Micheal asks you, even though he knows that the answer is obviously written all over your face. When you turn to look at him, there is a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. The kind of smile that is brighter than the stars, and leaves you unguarded. It’s the kind of smile that reaches into the depths of his chest and tightens something that sits there but he can’t find it in himself to hate the feeling. “I love it, Micheal.” You say with that smile. Yeah, this is worth it. Micheal thinks to himself as he continues to follow you around the maze of lanterns. 

Micheal ends up holding not just one cup of hot cocoa but two. He hadn’t planned on it, but you had gotten distracted halfway through him paying the man at the counter and had run off to go see the next lantern display. 

He turned around and just barely caught you running off. “Hey…” But his words weren’t being heard by you. “You aren’t the first that has happened today.” The cashier said as he handed the card back to Micheal along with the two pimping off coffee cups filled with cocoa. When Micheal finally makes it over to you, you’re already dragging him by the elbow to another lantern. “Micheal, look at this one!” You shriek like a toddler in a toy store. 

Micheal follows your lead, with burning hands and his head on swivel to make sure he keeps track of you. He makes sure to adjust his hold on the cups of cocoa so he doesn’t end up spilling anything. You move about the displays like you’re on a mission, with every few steps causing you to pause. 

“Hold on, wait, wait. Stop.” You say, then your phone is being pulled back out of your backpocket. He stands off to the side and watches as you clutter your phone up with half blurry pictures of all the lanterns. “Micheal, come here please. I want you in this with me.” You ask him, Micheal shakes his head and looks down at his hands. “I’ve got the cups.” He says as if that will stop you from pulling him over to the lantern. 

“Please, Micheal!” You say with a pout. He nods and steps into the frame with you, the cups sitting on the ground, his hand wrapped around your waist pulling you close to his side. The camera flashes and catches him mid-blink and the half-smile that is tugging at his lips makes him look tired and crooked in a way that he really can’t help with how tired he feels. 

“Oh I like that one!” You shriek again looking down at your phone. An older couple walks by, the woman looks at the both of you, “Honey would you like me to take a picture for you?” She asks, and your smile beams, you nod vigorously towards the woman and shove your phone into her hand. “Come on, Micheal.” You usher him over your side once again. 

These pictures come out a little better. Micheal isn’t mid-blink and his smile is more settled, his hands settled on your lower stomach and his head in the crook of your neck. The lanterns lights gleam perfectly off your face and you look utterly beautiful. “You two look like such a beautiful couple.” The older woman says before walking off with her husband hand in hand. 

“Did you hear her?” You ask Micheal, he nods. You swipe through the pictures once more. “I still like the other one.” You mutter to yourself, and honestly Micheal doesn’t have it in him to argue with you about it. Whatever makes you happy he thinks to himself. 

Some time goes by before Micheal realizes that he isn’t even really paying for the lanterns anymore. He should be, because they’re impressive and intricate, bright and beautiful. It’s probably something that someone would travel a few hours to come and see, but Micheal finds himself having a hard time tracking his focus back to the lanterns because his attention keeps drifting towards you. 

His focus is all on you, how you light up when you spot something new out of the corner of your eye. They grab your grab at his hand, sleeve, or elbow without even thinking. You just pull him along wherever you want like he won’t see something if he doesn't keep up with you. How your laugh seems to carry just a little too far, and a little loud earning the both of you looks from the other patrons. 

He doesn’t care about the stares, not even a little bit. “Micheal.” You say and your tone alone has the older man turning around quickly. The look on your face tells a different story: it's one that tells him he’s about to be asked to do something that would mildly upset him if it was anyone else but you. 

Micheal sighs dramatically in the darkness. “What, honey?” You point, “Stand there, please.” You all but demand. His eyes follow your arm down, to your finger and then to that massive fucking dragon with the golden arches that is overhead. “Honey… you’ve got to be kidding me, right?” He asks. You shake your head, your nose a little red from the sheer December chill of the night air. “Nope.” You say the ‘p’ popping off your lips. 

Micheal sighs slowly, but moves in the direction of where you had pointed without further argument. “You are gonna regret this when I’m standing here and I’m dead asleep.” He mutters, you smile at him. “You wouldn’t, not if I asked you to stay awake.” Micheal raises a brow towards you, your smile beams once more, “You’re probably right, honey.” 

 The energy starts to shift, something in the air maybe. It’s not sudden though, just a simple shift. Settling into something more calm, and quieter. Grounding the both of you right now. The pathways grow even more clear, the sounds of the crowds start to fade into the background. You drift closer to him without really thinking about it, your hand finds his now that your empty cocoa cups have been thrown away. 

Micheal doesn't hesitate one minute to wrap his hands in with yours. His grip tightens on intact and his thumb lightly goes over the bumps of your knuckles as you both continue to walk down the path. “I wanted to thank you for bringing me.” You whisper softly into the night air. You feel him shrug his shoulders, and he keeps his eyes forward on the pathway in front of him. 

“You’d been going on and on about this all week.” 

“I know that, but you’re tired. I can see it on your face and in your body. We could have… I’m just saying thank you.” You say again resting your head against his shoulder as you continue down the pathway. “Okay, honey.” He mutters. He doesn’t lie to you, mostly because he doesn’t have the energy to lie and say no I’m not tired honey, I just wanted to make sure that you were happy. 

There is a long moment where neither one of you says anything, and then Micheal is glancing down at you, and you’re looking up at him. Your expression is so soft with the lantern lights gleaming against your features. A pouty lip, glittering eyes. You look calmer, happier even if he’s got the look right. “This is far better, honey.” He admits. “Better than what, Micheal?” You ask him. 

“Being home laying in bed and thinking about work.” He says honestly. You don’t push not right now, because you know that means that his day at work was horrible and he's still here with you. You don’t say all that, instead you lean back into his shoulder, and Micheal lets himself lean back into you.

A shared weight between the two of you. 

Keeping each other steady. 

You’ve scampered off again, and once again Micheal has lost you in the maze of the glowing lanterns. “MICHEAL!” You shriek, and it has the exhaustion pausing, panic replacing it quickly. He closes his eyes and tries to calm his breathing, “Look.” You say calmly, when Micheal opens his eyes again he’s staring at a huge lantern version of a panda. 

He lets out a huff, mixed with panic, and relief all in one. Because of course it’s a panda, and of course you’re ecstatic about it. “You wanna make me take another picture don’t you?” He mutters, you smile like that’s enough of an answer. This time Micheal reaches for your phone, he takes one of you standing with a gleaming smile, and then he walks towards you without even complaining. 

Reaching his arm out with the phone still in his hand. He waits for you to adjust, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek into his chest. He snaps a few pictures. A few are blurry but there is one that you fall in love with right away. Hearting it and quickly adjusting it to be your new phone background within seconds of having your phone back. 

By the time you’ve made it around the maze of lanterns you’re back at the exit. Micheal can feel the exhaustion really hitting him. Running on practically nothing but the coffee he had when he left the shift nearly three hours ago, and the sheer stubbornness that is coursing through his veins. 

His feet are killing him, and his head is ushering towards having a migraine away. If that’s due to insufficient sleep, the beeping monitor in the ED, the flashing lights of the camera on your phone, or your shrieking. Micheal isn’t sure. 

Micheal is also pretty sure he’s been forced to take more pictures than he had taken in a few years combined. Yet Micheal can’t find it in himself to be bothered by it because you’re still smiling. You’re still talking about the lanterns, the ones you like the most, the ones you hope will be here next year. 

Still flipping through the photos on your phone as you walk together. You stop a few times on the pathway back to the parking lot to show him the occasional pictures that he wasn’t there to see you take. “I still think it is my favorite one.” You mutter as you hold the phone up to show Micheal. 

It shocks him for a minute when he sees that it’s a picture of him. He looks worn out, and tired. Slightly drained and disheveled. But there he is standing under some pink lantern, one that is connected to his birth month. The expression on Micheals face hovers between being completely exhausted to fond at you as he stares past the camera and at you. 

With one brow raised Micheal looks down at you, “Really?” He says flatly, you nod quickly, “Of course it’s a picture of you.” He glances down at your screen again, and then back up at you. Ignoring himself in the picture and thinking about what you see in him, how you look at him through a pair of rose tinted glasses. “Okay, honey.” 

The walk back to the car through the parking lot is slower, and quieter. The parking lot is empty at this point, the street lights are blaring, but you’re right in step with him, your shoulders brushing up against his arms with every few steps. Like you can’t bare to be apart from him for a mere few seconds. 

Micheal unlocks the car with the key fob. It beeps in the darkness, and then he’s opening your passenger door before you can even think about it. He waits for you to settle your purse down on the footwell. You buckle yourself into your seat, and your hands rest gently on your lap. He shuts your door with a hefty slam and then rounds the car. 

When the engine comes to life the cab fills with warm air that nips away at the redness coating your nose and his ears. Just like that thought, the stillness and silence of the night settles back around the both of you. Micheal pulls out of the parking lot, stealing a final glance in your direction. 

You’ve adjusted the passenger seat so it’s slightly reclined back. Your knees are bunched up on the seat, a coat he had discarded in the backseat somehow finds its way to be your interim blanket for the roadtrip back home. Your phone rests in your hands, your eyes half-closed seemly the exhaustion finally haven gotten to you. 

“Hey now.” Micheal says quietly. You hum, eyes now fully closed. “If you fall asleep in here, I’m not carrying your ass up those stairs.” You smile even though your eyes are closed, “You will, Micheal.” He huffs and his lip twitches. “Yeah, I probably will.” He admits and returns his attention to the  red light. 

Micheal drive in silence after that, listening to the passing cars, the wheels on the road and your evening out breathing next to him. He knows that there is nothing else to say right now, because you are here with him. 

Happy

Safe 

So for the first time since his shift had started this morning at nearly five in the morning, his mind seems to settle peacefully. No constant replay of the day, where everything had gone wrong. The patients he had lost, the ones that had thanked him with all their hearts. 

It was just…

Peaceful. 

Micheal adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, and glances another time over at you. Yeah. He thinks to himself. He’d do it again, absolutely no question he’d do it again. Without sleep, coming from the worst shift of his life. Because if this is what he gets at the end of it, at the end of the shift, of the day.  You smile, laugh, force him to take pictures that you’ll cherish til the end of time, then it’s not really a choice for him at all. “I love you.” You whisper in the passing streetlights that go by as Micheal continues to drive home. He hears it, and catalogs it away deep in his chest. “I love you too, honey.” He whispers back