Prompt: + Fake dating trope

Pairing: Issa x Androw aka Issrow [???] or Galemon

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Issa does not dream. She does not even sleep the way humans understand this word. Instead, her body and mind rests through meditation and chain of exercises.

Which means she has plenty of time to quietly observe sleeping Androw each night now that for the sake of their cover, they are forced spending their nights together in the same room.

The idea does not bother her much, not even when Radelle's eyes shine with excitement and she drops hints of hoping that 'something finally will happen'. At least, out of the sight of their hosts, they don't have to be touching to keep up appearances as a couple.

(Really, just touching would be fine, but they have to hold hands and even press kisses to his cheek while smiling. It is really all too strange for the sath.)

Besides, Galerow had promised to be a gentleman, whatever that meant in this particular context. He had suggested he would sleep in the chair, but in the end, she had managed to convince that bed was not necessary for her and said seat would more than suffice.

So, right now he is sprawled out amid wrinkled sheets, victims to the man's constant tossing and turning. She finds it strange, even fascinating how the confident, composed man turned into restless whirlpool when he slipped into sleep. And though she knows how dreaming works, can name each human brain segment affected by REM sleep and activity of neurons, dreams intrigue her, too.

After all, physical aspects aside, it is know that human subconscious soars to heights it rarely every reached otherwise and Galerow's intuition is particularly keen so who knows what peculiar information can be discovered through his dreams?

And with him being so vocal, it makes no sense to simply let information slip away. So, Issa makes notes each night of whatever the man spills in his dreams. Most of it makes no sense, really - fending off pink, fluffy unicorns might reveal something about his keen fear of things that need attention and care, or merely mean he watched one silly cartoon before sleep too much. Sometimes there are comments about their current case, a proof that he cannot let go of his work at all, though he likes to pretend he doesn't care for it.

But tonight - tonight feels different. He grunts as if in pain, reaching out for something blindly and his voice grows in volume. "No," the man says, "no! Come back!" There is something unsettling about it and Issa shifts in her seat slightly. "Please, you can't do this!" he begs the invisible assailant and she stands up.

Perhaps it is none of her business, but humans are known to be careless after nightmare plagued nights and if she is not responsible for her team's well-being, then who is? She kneels down by his bedside, grasping his shoulder and shaking him firmly: "Galerow, wake up." But he nearly smacks her in the face (if not for her quick reflexes, he'd have), continuing to argue and beg with the people in his dream.

With another firm shake, she finally manages to pull him out of the nightmare's clutches. With a gasp, he sits up before focusing glazed eyes on her. Even her quick reaction does not save her from the sudden leap forward as he pulls her in a hug.

"Thank goodness... You are fine," he murmurs with a smile on his lips. She guesses he is seeing his lost love, for a brief moment living in a world where she survived, but his next words surprise her, the way rarely anything can. "Issa. Issa, I can't lose you, too. Don't..." But he never finishes his warning, eyes falling shut and he slumps forward, head landing on her shoulder, although his grip shows no sign of weakening.

She sits there for a while, until she is sure that moving him will not wake the man up, and then settles Androw back in the bed, pulling covers over his form. As she sits down back in her chair, there's something strange in her chest... Well, it has to be feeling, right? Because it is not a thought and not anything she is familiar with or can categorize. It takes a while to dissipate and every now and then she feels a tinge of it when she looks at him the next day, but neither of them say anything for he surely does not even remember the incident and she finds it better to keep it as a secret of sorts.

Xavirne: Don't hate me pls.