Lena
The dreaded week has come. That week were Stef is anything but herself. She clams up and only talks if it's absolutely necessary to. If I try to ask her what's wrong, which I do every year, she will act as though she didn't hear me then make an excuse to leave. Which any one who knows Stef knows is seriously out of character for her.
I want more than anything to make her tell me but the begging look of please don't make me talk about it breaks my heart enough to make me just let her stay in her bubble. Even if that bubble is causing more harm than good, which it is because basic psychology states that you need to talk about it to stay mentally and emotionally healthy, I just can't cause her that pain.
Just like every other year and those random bad nights she woke up from her nightmare with terror written across her face. I took her into my arms hoping to give her some comfort and let her cry through the pain.
Stef
I woke up and tried to get a sence of reality. I'm at home in my bed and everything is ok. Or at least that's what I like to tell myself. I tried to control my breathing and get control of my tears but the more I tried the harder it got. The sound of my borderline panic attack woke up my very concerned wife.
"Honey what's wrong?" She asked as I practically flung myself into her arms. She held me and tried to calm me down. It felt like a decade has passed before I calmed downed and got control over my breathing. Once it was obvious to Lena that I was feeling a bit better she held me at arms distance so she can look at me while she speaks.
"You feeling a bit better now, sweety." I nodded not wanting to talk.
"Good. Can you please talk to me about it" she begged. Lena has no idea what my nightmare is about and I won't tell her. No one can know. Even the one person I want to tell the most.
I'm new to writing fanfiction and would love it if you guys would give it a chance and tell me how I'm doing. Thanks so much.