The next week might pass in a blur, a hazy flood of dark dreams and muffled screams in the night, trembling hands as another cut appears out of nowhere, but it might also pass as an eternity would; prolonged, a distinct flash of painful clarity, a tangled jumble of small whispers, a concerned glance thrown from across the room, and maybe even a hand wrapped securely around shaking fingers.
Nuala doesn't truly take notice, either way. She feels as if she's drowning, slowly drifting further and further into the murky depths of an ocean, and is utterly helpless to save herself, water rushing into her lungs as a burning pain assaults her, and she can only watch in ever increasing panic, desperation flaring in the very back of her mind as she fades into oblivion.
The only thing, it seems, that can ever hope to anchor her, that can even stand a sliver of a chance at pulling her from the one thing that would surely kill her, is also the one thing she has mostly tried to avoid, making a conscious effort to turn a corner when they run into each other in the hallway, sticking her nose in a book, feigning extreme attention, as he enters the- his, hers, their-library.
She's done a fine job, if one were to look upon the surface, at how adept the she has become at shying away from Abe, but in the darkest hours of the night, when all is quiet and peaceful, Nuala's mind is very much not. She tosses and turns in fear, drenched in sweat as the sheets stick to her, and her dreams chase her into dark corners where only monsters dare dwell. But Abe is there, all too soon noting her distress, and pulls the sheets from her burning body, blessed air chilling her skin, and it would usually end there, with soft murmurs echoing long into the night, a hand beside her, thoughts colliding with the horrible images in her head, shooing them off as if they were no more than a mere nuisance.
It would stop, she thinks as she enters another dream, her arms pressed against the mattress, immobile with sorrow and terror, as she shakes and trembles and shivers. She thinks that perhaps she could pull herself out, tear her mind from the ghost of lips across her collarbone, but the image, and the memory it brings, is too much for her to remember, so she cries into her pillow with her eyes closed, senselessly drifting in and out of shadowed corridors and ringing laughter, glowing eyes and dark smiles. It would stop, she tells herself, and sooner rather than later finds herself chanting in the moonlight cascading through her window, relentlessly repeating the words, as if they'll bring him to her door, as if he'll slip into her room, as silent as any creature borne of hell would be, and wrap his arms around her, as soothing as any creature of heaven.
Thoughts of heaven and hell mingle until everything is a blur and she prays to anyone who will listen, begs the midnight sky, to end this. But then he's there, quietly making his way across the room and to her bedside, carefully folding the sheets from her body as she sighs in relief, barely aware of him at all, and he puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, his palm brushing against the cloth of her blue nightgown, emotions drifting into her mind and jerking her awake, mercifully pulling her from the awful places of her memories.
Nuala nearly sobs with joy, barely containing her propriety as she thinks to embrace him, so overcome with gratitude is she. She stops her arms as they swing to encircle Abraham and bites her lip, her pale hair matted to her neck in thick locks. He sits there, quickly removing his hand from her shoulder, as if the touch burns, and he folds his hands in his lap nervously, blinking rapidly in the darkness. The elf can barely make out his features, his vibrant skin smothered in shadow, and he swallows as she scoots closer to him, if only to see him properly as she thanks him, breeching the borders of his mind to express how grateful she is that he woke her. Abe nods stiffly and Nuala's taken aback by how powerful his thoughts are, how encompassing they feel, and a small gasp is ripped from her at the sentiment of it all.
He tries desperately to quell the flood of his mind, but it's far too late, and she eagerly, tenderly, brushes her mind against his, nudges him with her thoughts, and approaches the matter as if he's a frightened animal, ready to run but too curious to do so. He turns to her, gills flapping at what must be a record speed, and she can feel his heart hammering in tandem with her own as she slides ever closer, soothing thoughts of hands held tight and whispers in the dark coming to her mind, sudden flashes of knowing smiles and kisses pressed to warm cheeks.
Nuala has never thought herself one for words, always opting for a silent shadow in her court, hovering behind the strong, overpowering voices of her brother and father, and she would always find herself thinking how wrong that was, that she should be so awful with her words, that she should hold so many thoughts within her and not be able to express them as others did. But as the princess finds Abe's hand in the darkness, as he squeezes it like a lifeline, she thinks that it was right, that it was meant to be, that she find another so incapable of expressing all of those thoughts with a few carefully voiced words. She thinks it right, unbelievably so, to lean into Abe's embrace, to feel the comforting pull of his arms as they wrap around her, his icy skin cooling her heated body.
She can hear him sigh, a soft sound that brushes against the bare skin of her neck , and she gasps with surprise, tingles of pleasure like she's never known rolling through her body in a single instant, and Abe tenses. She runs a hand down his back, her fingertips stroking the fin in line with his spine, absolutely mesmerized by the feeling of it, and he shivers in her arms as a tear hits her shoulder, as cold as fresh fallen snow and as shocking as anything she's ever felt. An overwhelming sorrow comes over her- No, Abraham, don't cry- and Nuala finds her own eyes watering, her cheeks growing warm with fresh grief as tears burn trails down her cheeks.
Abraham- my Abraham- rubs her back consolingly, murmuring in her ear, and she closes her eyes against the sting of new tears. He buries his face into her neck and kisses a spot there, Nuala- my princess- tensing with indecisiveness. She lowers her chin to his shoulder and presses her lips against it, burning lips clashing against his chilled skin, and if the tears falling down from her eyes burn him, Abe makes no protest.
Please R&R! ;)
