I'll face my fear of the evening once I get used to this feeling.
I can't sleep,
that's when you're torn away from me.
While I'm dreaming I feel you leaving.
Eyelids, PVRIS
It's the same every night; he dreams she's dying, over and over again by his hand. He wills himself not to harm her, but it's never any good against the power of Levana that is always forcing him to kill Cress.
And the dream always ends the same way.
Her stomach is slashed, and the crimson blood stains red against the bright colored fabric covering her skin. Levana laughs scornfully at his frivolous efforts to escape her grasp and he's never been so disgusted with himself. He promised to be good to her – that he wouldn't hurt her (because that's what he does to people like Cress; first he lets them in, then he lets them down, then he makes the rest of their lives fucking miserable because he was too stupid to do the right thing.) Levana always lets him go at this point, finding his agony to be amusing as he rushes over to Cress's paling body.
(it's at this point where he always tells her that he's in love with her, and she looks like the happiest thing in the world despite the death clouding in her eyes and the color leaving her face.)
And then she's gone.
He thinks the worst thing about this reoccurring night mare is that he knows that this could have happened. He could have killed her, involuntarily of course, but this could have been a possible outcome, and he's not quite sure he'll ever be ready to live in a world (or galaxy for that matter) without Cress. Hell, that thought alone is more terrifying than not ever seeming the Rampion again (and that is a scary thought).
And worst of all, he knows that Levana knew that however much it pained him to be fighting her in the first place, it would haunt him for years to come, hurting more and more every passing night until it drove him insane (but he refused to become another crazy just because some weird-ass lunar woman tried to ruin his life.) Of course, it didn't help that she was in critical condition (the last he heard she was, anyway) while he just had a few fingers missing along with scrapes and bruises (plus a fracture here and there, but who cares about those)
He's exhausted, but he won't succumb to the charms of sleep. He can't stand to see her die again. So he spends the day watching some of the worst net shows he's ever seen (the fact the people legitimately watch this shit they call television amazes him) and when he feels like he's about ready to fall asleep, he stares at the eggshell white ceiling until the net dramas are more appealing than the perfectly painted walls of his hospital room.
The doctors come in tell him he's recovering smoothly, and if he wants, they'll be able to make him two new fingers. (He's not sure he's ready to become Cinder just yet, but the offer sounds tempting.)
He's not really interested on what they have to say, if he's being honest (which is a very rare occasion, although he's been trying lately). It's not like he understands any of the medical terms, hell, if it hurts there's a problem and someone needs to fix it; he doesn't need the name for it.
He's worried about Cress, and as soon as the white coated lunar's shut their mouths he asks about her. They both share a smile (like those old people on Earth that look at two young people fussing over each other and sigh 'young love'; said people tended to piss him off quite a bit) and say that she's awake; they believe she's going to make a full recovery.
They rush out of the room muttering about something that sounds like Greek to him (probably because it was; stupid doctors and their stupid dead languages). He decides, not two minutes after they leave his room that he's going to visit her tomorrow, whether or not he feels like he's going pass out from exhaustion (which he does promptly after thinking that thought).
xXx
The dream haunts him again, and he repeats the process of self-loathing that he's grown accustomed to over the last three days. He's able to find a half-decent documentary on the Fourth World War, which keeps his somewhat calmer mind at ease until his door burst open.
He looks up, and it's her. If at all possible, she looks even smaller in the baby blue hospital gown that she's wearing. (And damn, only she can make a hospital gown look good.)
"You okay there, sweetheart?" he smirks, but his voice is laced with concern.
"They said you were here, and I was well, lonely, so I may have possibly snuck out and found you." She says quietly, looking at her feet (possibly to hide a blush that was fairly hard to miss.)
"We'll I won't be the one to rat you out." He smiles, "you sure you're alright?"
"I'm not okay; my wound hurts, but I'm getting better and I'm with you now, so that's got to count for something."
"You wanna sit down, princess?" he asks. She nods fervently and limps her way over to his hospital bed. He scooches over to the far edge so that his body is flush against the rail and she crawls up next to him, placing her head on his chest. She looks even smaller now, curled against him and his heart feels like it's about to burst into about a thousand pieces.
He wants to apologize. It's his own damn fault that she's in this god forsaken hospital on Luna in the first place, but he can't find the right words (and when talking to Cress, of all people, the right words are very important). Before he can say anything, however, she starts to speak."
"I forgive you."
"Cress," he sighs, but she cuts him off.
"It's not your fault, okay? So stop hating yourself for it. If anyone should be angry, it's me. And I'm not so please, just kiss my forehead and tell me everything's alright instead of how sorry you are." She's crying; he can feel her tiny body hiccup as she lets her tears fall silently, and that's just as painful as waking from his nightmares.
Instead of telling her to stop her weeping, he kisses the top of her head and tells her they're safe now as he pulls her even closer.
Hello fam! I finished Winter yesterday after seeing STAR WARS for a second time (SCREAMS) and I was killed by Cresswell feels (as usual)
So I have no idea what this is, I hope you all like it, hopefully I'll get around to writing more cresswell shit that isn't as angst-y as this.
Please leave a lil review (or a favorite) it takes like two minutes and it makes my day (maybe it'll get me to stop crying over star wars; who cares just fucking reviewwww)
Happy New Year to Y'all!
Bleuboxes
(ALSO CHECK OUT MY OTHER STORIES PLS… I'm in dire need of attention I'm sorry)
