Inspired by: 'Dreaming with a Broken Heart' by John Mayer
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights go to their respective owners.
Killian rolled out of bed onto the hard wood with a solid thump, struggling to breathe as he fought back tears. He dreamt of Milah again. She frequented his dreams. Sometimes they were pleasant dreams of how she lived but more often than not it was the horror and guilt of how she died. He woke every day remembering that she was gone and never coming back.
His dreams were less like dreams but more of a string of memories; memories that slipped further and further from his grasp with each passing day. He strained to remember everything he could about her. He remembered her soft flowing hair, her scent, her gentle touch, how she seemed to know his every wish and want before he did and how much she loved the sea and adventure that came with their life. He could almost see her, with her laughing eyes, wearing one of his shirts because she was too lazy to find her own clothes as they are strewn about the room, she looked so damn good after a night of wild, intense sex. Before it all came crashing back to him, how he had lost her and it was his all his fault that she was…gone.
He recalled her favorite flower was a rose. Not because it was the flower of romance but rather because roses were tricky to grow, very temperamental, and difficult to maintain. But people grew them anyway, thorns and all. He used to put a rose under her pillow to surprise her knowing how much she cherished those romantic thoughts that were never given to her when she was married. He recollected how awed she was that he still found her roses in the middle of the sea.
It was not all roses and sunshine though. He lost track of how many times he comforted Milah when she awoke from a nightmare about her bastard of a husband finding her and dragging her back to the life she lived. Or the equal number of times she woke crying, regretting leaving her boy behind to grow up without her. He was always there for her, except when she needed him most. When it counted the most, he was unable to tell her how much she meant to him. Something he regrets most fervently to this day.
He hated waking up, knowing he had failed her. That he could not kill her murder nor could he love ever again. He would never stop loving her.
