"Midnight Awakening"

The silence of the night was only broken by the soft hum of the city's distant traffic and the occasional creak of the old house settling into its foundations. I sat on the sofa, my back straight and my hands folded neatly in my lap, waiting. Waiting for the sound of the door to open, waiting for the familiar voice to call out to me. My ears, sensitive to every decibel, picked up the slightest noise, and I could feel my heart beating in anticipation. My skin crawled with hypersensitivity, every fiber of my being attuned to the world around me. As I sat there, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. My mind, fragile and vulnerable, was always on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. My severe autism spectrum disorder made every sensation feel like a thousand needles pricking at my skin, and my blindness only heightened my other senses. I was a prisoner of my own perceptions, unable to escape the cacophony of sounds, smells, and textures that assaulted me every waking moment. But I was waiting for one person, one person who made my heart skip a beat. Hange Zoe, my husband, my love, my everything. The CEO of ZoeTech, a company that revolutionized the world with its innovative technology and scientific breakthroughs. He was a genius, a mad scientist, and I was his devoted partner. The door opened, and I heard the soft click of the lock disengaging. Footsteps, heavy and tired, made their way into the living room. I smiled, a wide, toothy grin spreading across my face. "Hey, sweetheart," Hange said, his voice husky from exhaustion. "I'm back... today was pretty busy." I nodded, my head bobbing up and down like a bobblehead doll. I was always happy to see him, always eager to be near him. But as I looked up at him, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. He looked tired, so tired, his eyes sunken and his skin pale. "You were waiting for me?" he asked, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for something. I nodded again, my grin faltering for a moment. I was always waiting for him, always hoping that he would come back to me, that he would stay with me. But as I looked up at him, I saw the fatigue etched on his face, and my heart sank. Hange's expression softened, and he took a step closer to me. "I'm sorry, I'm just... I'm really tired," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have to get up early tomorrow, and I don't have much time..." He trailed off, his eyes locked on mine, and I could see the guilt written all over his face. My separation anxiety, always lurking just beneath the surface, began to rear its ugly head. I felt a lump form in my throat, and tears began to stream down my face. I didn't like it when Hange was tired, didn't like it when he didn't have time for me. It made me feel small and insignificant, like I wasn't important to him. Hange's expression changed, his eyes filling with regret. "I'm sorry, baby," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "I didn't mean to... I just..." But I was already regressing, my mind slipping back into the vulnerable, fragile state of a newborn baby. I didn't understand why Hange couldn't cuddle with me, why he couldn't stay with me. All I knew was that I was scared, scared of being alone, scared of being abandoned. As the tears continued to flow, Hange's face blurred in front of me, and I felt myself slipping away, lost in a sea of anxiety and fear. I was so scared, so scared of being alone, so scared of losing the one person I loved. And as I looked up at Hange, I knew that I would do anything to keep him with me, to keep him from leaving me again.