Title: When the Nightmares are Real (teaser/prologue)
Author: Sphynx
Rating: PG now, probably worse later
Pairings: 3x4.Isn't it obvious? What do I always write about?
Author's notes: Hmm, I really should stop with the whole nightmares
make good stories. You'll learn why later *grins evilly*
Quatre sat huddled in a little ball shuddering. He had woken
up screaming again, the nightmares he had fought since he was young
winning another battle as he slept. Tears were streaming down his
face as he tried to disappear into the corner where his bed was
placed. He peered out of his nest of blankets, staring at the door
across the room expecting the armed soldiers of all his worst
nightmares to come bursting through at any moment.
Quatre was still seeing the after-images if his dream when Trowa
slipped quietly into the room. He had heard the scream that tore
from Quatre's throat and knew that Quatre needed him. He quietly put
water to boil for tea, letting Quatre take time to realize that he
was there, knowing better than to startle him. The chamomile blend
was steeping when Quatre stopped shuddering and blinked, coming back
to his room and out of his terrifying dream.
"Trowa?" he whispered hopefully.
"Yes kitten," was the kind soft reply as Trowa pressed the cup of tea
into Quatre's hands and sat down on the bed beside him.
"Thank you."
Author: Sphynx
Rating: PG now, probably worse later
Pairings: 3x4.Isn't it obvious? What do I always write about?
Author's notes: Hmm, I really should stop with the whole nightmares
make good stories. You'll learn why later *grins evilly*
Quatre sat huddled in a little ball shuddering. He had woken
up screaming again, the nightmares he had fought since he was young
winning another battle as he slept. Tears were streaming down his
face as he tried to disappear into the corner where his bed was
placed. He peered out of his nest of blankets, staring at the door
across the room expecting the armed soldiers of all his worst
nightmares to come bursting through at any moment.
Quatre was still seeing the after-images if his dream when Trowa
slipped quietly into the room. He had heard the scream that tore
from Quatre's throat and knew that Quatre needed him. He quietly put
water to boil for tea, letting Quatre take time to realize that he
was there, knowing better than to startle him. The chamomile blend
was steeping when Quatre stopped shuddering and blinked, coming back
to his room and out of his terrifying dream.
"Trowa?" he whispered hopefully.
"Yes kitten," was the kind soft reply as Trowa pressed the cup of tea
into Quatre's hands and sat down on the bed beside him.
"Thank you."
