The Right Wrong Turn || Tendou x Reader

The room resembled the outside world, residing in pitch darkness. The only light available was a small electric clock on [Y/N]'s nightstand, red digits carving the inky space.

02:39.

Satori laid awake, eyes wide. His arms were tucked neatly under the red tufts of his hair, and the blanket was strewn haphazardly over his torso. Beside his arm, a small hand fell limp from her bed, occasionally touching him as she moved in her sleep.

Tendou Satori couldn't sleep. He didn't usually sleep well most nights anyways, whether it be from fear of his mother or (god forbid) one of her revolving boyfriends bursting into his room in the middle of the night, or the constant whiplash of fighting between his mother and her domestic partners. Or the ear bleach worthy sounds that would emanate from outside his bedroom door at night.

Or it could be the constant anxieties that plagued him, the unending feeling of being unworthy - well, what else was he supposed to feel? Everyone seemed hellbent on letting him know just how worthless he was, always had.

Except for [Y/N].

[Y/N] seemed to be something different. Satori didn't know how, but he had managed to create a friendship with someone (though he knew that Y/N would totally deny it). It shocked him. What shocked him a little bit more was the barrage of butterflies he would receive when a retort or sarcastic comment, or god forbid a flirtatious remark would escape your lips.

He examined you, the small hand brushing his arm, warmth radiating where it touched. You were on your stomach, a frazzled mess of hair shrouding your shoulders. The hair tie you previously used sat uselessly on the top of your head, barely containing the old hairdo. Your face was twisted unceremoniously into what could only be a look of fear, then anger, then fear again. He watched in both curiosity and terror as a tear slipped from your closed eyes, and your breathing became heavy and sporadic.

The hand down by his arm grabbed a hold of him in a vice grip, trimmed nails digging into his skin, as a few words left your mouth. You had been mumbling for most of the night, strange and incoherent sentences, and a few that he had to stifle laughs at, but nothing like what left your lips now.

" D o n't kill him too ."

You were fully sobbing now, in your sleep. It was something Satori had witnessed and experienced himself. A panic attack. Were you paralyzed? How did you help someone in a panic attack in their sleep ? Satori wracked his brain for what to do as your breathing became shallow and fast and you yelled out to no one.

He broke free of your grasp and put a hand to your cheek. You pulled away and rolled onto your back, shooting upwards and gasping for air. You patted the bed around you, and let out a muffled, choked sob when you realized where you were.

In bed.

At home.

"Tombstone?" Someone whispered to you. Your head whipped around, and you locked eyes with Tendou. A slow, calm exhale left him at the sight of your open eyes.

"Oh, fuck, charming, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up-"

"I wasn't asleep." He replied, his voice gentle.

"Oh."

"Scoot over." You looked at him quizzically as he threw his pillow onto your bed and climbed on after it.

"What the he-hell do you think you're doing?" you questioned with a quivered voice.

"Helping you." He deadpanned.

"You're doing an outstanding job," you said sarcastically. You bit your lip, dropping your eyes. Your chest heaved continuously, and it was obvious that you were still trying to control yourself.