TW: Self-harm, torment, angst.
"So… yeah."
"Woah," Diana gawked briefly.
"Major woah," Lucy agreed.
It was Friday evening. The three inseparable women were in Elara's apartment, curled up in her living room with full bellies of homemade cheese pizza and glasses topped with red wine. Elara sat on the armrest of her couch, her elbows depressed into her knees and her toes squishing down into the cushion below. Her chocolate hair swept before her shoulders as she pitched forward, her cold wine glass clutched between her hands.
Lucy and Diana sat on the other part of the sectional, staring at her with unfiltered awe at her complete story.
Elara had just told them about Marcus, what he did to her in the Burgess' basement, and her discovery of Dream. She let Diana know that Dream had healed her after Diana left that harrowing night. Elara explained to Lucy how Jason irked her because of her nightmares, and Lucy instantly understood Elara's unease without fail. Elara detailed how she fantasized about Dream's face for years, about their many recent interactions, all the way up to the events on Sunday night with her nightmare and learning of Alena. She confessed how she believed she was falling in love with Morpheus, only to feel betrayed and misled.
There was one topic Elara still kept a secret from the two. She did not disclose how badly her body responded to her last severe nightmare. How she vomited and spasmed for an entire day after– how deep of a pit she had mentally fallen into. That dark day would remain a detail for her and her alone.
"So… these nightmares have been happening your whole life?" Diana asked curiously. Elara understood they'd have some clarifying questions, and she would share it all.
Elara grasped her wine glass in her hand, her vision darting down to the red liquid moving in outward ripples. "I noticed them repeatedly happening around 18. A few different kinds. The running nightmare was always recurring, and they've been getting worse as of late."
"My god Lar," Lucy exclaimed with worry, clenching the stem of her glass. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Honestly, I thought they were normal. I went to bed, and I had a nightmare, and when I woke up, I continued with my day," The brunette subtly shrugged. "It never really impacted my life until Dream came around."
Elara wilted as his name left her lips, the overflow of hurt reverberating in her ribcage. At this moment, her heartache was much worse than genuine anger towards Morpheus. She wasn't as furious as she was on Monday, but the actuality of his deception continually punctured holes in her insecurities.
Elara unknowingly disconnected from the conversion, as if hypnotized by the tiny waves pulsing through her wine, her mind towing her inside.
Diana pursed her lips, noting Elara's silence, and stretched to touch Elara's knee comfortingly. "Have you spoken to him at all?"
Elara blinked, her head shaking. "No. I needed my space. My head is still swimming with it all."
"But do you want to speak to him?" Lucy questioned thoughtfully.
Elara lightly touched her chest, her fingertips pressing into the softness of her shirt and causing the fabric to wrinkle like a star. "It hurts to even think of him. It's the worst heartache I've ever felt."
Diana's brows lowered as she reassured, "It'll get better with time."
The brunette inhaled softly, her pointer finger moving to stroke the stem of her glass. "I really, really hope it does. I feel so awful."
The nurse leaned into the couch, her arm relaxing on the back cushion and resting her head in her palm. In her other hand, she held her wine glass.
Lucy took a sip of her drink and candidly questioned, her tone full of sincerity, "How badly did you fall?"
Elara's chestnut eyes lifted and grew wide at Lucy's ask. Her countenance dropped, and her entire complexion was uncontrollably recast with sadness. Her mouth stretched to assemble words, her lips parting, but nothing came out. Her jaw snapped shut, and her lips rejoined. A thick exhale escaped her nose.
"That bad, huh," Lucy concluded for her, her big blue hues searching.
Elara's bottom lip faintly trembled as she eventually bobbed her head. Yes, it was that bad. Elara took her first sip of wine, allowing the sweet liquid to trickle down her throat, attempting to suppress her hurt from exhaustively being on display.
Diana motioned with her wine glass, speaking with her hands. "Do you think talking it out with him would provide closure so you can move on?
The side of Elara's lip downturned. "It's not like he has a number for me to reach him."
"Ah, that's what you meant." Recognition dawned on Diana's face, piecing together the bits of information from her dinner with Elara the previous weekend. "No number, no way for me to find him on your phone."
Elara rotated the stem between her fingers, bringing the rim to her lips as she took another intentional sip.
"So, do you think a flamethrower will or will not work?" Lucy barged in, only for Diana to shoot her the look. Elara almost spit out her mouthful of wine.
"Lucy," Diana snapped, lightly smacking her.
"Hey, if Elara's ex-boyfriend is a God, then I need God-killing weapons."
"You are a complete menace," Diana jostled her head, forehead dropping into her hand.
Lucy countered, "You mean problem solver." A smirk fell across her lips as she took her own sip, eyeing Diana humorously.
"Why does their separation result in your attempt to murder someone?" Diana retorted, laughter bubbling through her mouth.
Lucy raised an eyebrow, her grin growing wider as she bantered back. "What a simple question to a complex answer."
Elara's mouth spread, a smile finally breaking through her lips, and she discerned a hint of delight within her at their playful spat. She shook her head. "No one is going to hurt Dream."
The brunette tapped her glass with her nail, the noise clicking lightly. Her voice then somehow rose to defend him. "Dream said he thought he was doing something to protect me that night. I know he's not a bad person." Her volume disappeared in her throat, and her hold on her glass tautened.
"Elara… I know you have feelings for this man –if he's a man– we'll go with man, but despite it all, he did not tell you about Alena," Diana added. Elara visibly tensed at the reminder.
The brunette frowned into her wine. Alena was another facet of this emotional rollercoaster, forcing her self-worth to plummet like the descent on speeding tracks. She kept her tone as even as possible. "I don't know anything about her, but we share a face, and many of her memories are my dreams."
Diana's head tilted. "I know you said your dreams are absolutely terrifying. If her memories are your dreams, have you put together that she actually lived your nightmare? She probably went through hell."
The Nurse's remark forced Elara to look inward at a train of thought she didn't expect to traverse. She didn't even think about conceptualizing that Alena, whoever she was, had experienced something really awful. Elara was able to wake up and leave her terror… Alena did not. What did Alena actually go through?
Elara's composure softened, her shoulders shortly rising and resetting down. "I- I don't know. I suppose so, but I can't imagine anyone actually living what I experience in my nightmares."
"Well, she is dead, right? Dream said that he knew her forever ago," Lucy interjected.
"So how he felt about her could be a thing in the past," Diana included, hope whisking through her hazel hues.
"I just… I don't want to be a replacement," Elara sighed, her expression cast downwards. "I want to be chosen for me and who I am, not who I look like."
Elara's self-worth was like a decaying flower, withering more and more each day as she processed her sadness. Her pain contorted, multiplied, and expanded whenever she considered Morpheus' affection toward Alena. Her sanity was on a timer, ticking towards an explosion when she was locked inside with her vicious thoughts.
She needed to let more out. She needed to release the true crux of her internal wound and why her heart was bleeding profusely.
Diana patted the cushion beside her, having Elara slide down onto the couch seat to join her and Lucy. Diana's arm wrapped around the brunette's shoulder, tugging her close. "I know."
Elara couldn't stop wetness from shimmering in her eyes at Diana's warmth, pecking her coldness. "I just wanted him to care about me for me."
Diana hummed knowingly against Elara, stroking her brown hair lovingly. "You are so much more than a pretty face. Even if I think you have the prettiest of them all."
Elara dimly laughed, snuggling further into Diana's hold. Diana's friendship seeped into the cracks in Elara's defense, giving her the space to come into her own. In Diana's hold, she felt secure. And finally, she let out what she was truly holding onto, the core of what made her shatter so wholly.
"I wonder if he ever felt anything genuine for me," The brunette hoarsely murmured as an untamed tear swiftly rolled down her cheek. "I just keep thinking that I'm not enough for him, and the pain just winds inside. I've been replaying every interaction over and over in my head, mulling over if the insane connection we had was real or just from his lingering feelings for Alena."
Elara sniffled as her voice cracked, her truth gushing through her lips, "I really care about him. I have these intense feelings all inside, and that's what hurts me the most. He made me feel incredible. My heart practically took flight whenever he was near, and I was limitless. I thought he saw the parts of me that actually mattered, but to find out his attraction to me was because of my similarities to Alena…." Elara's volume dipped quiet again.
Lucy leaned against Diana's other shoulder, her arm reaching across and rubbing Elara's leg. Lucy offered, "It'll take time to heal. You really care about him… those feelings don't go away overnight."
"And you know we love you. With us, you are always chosen," Diana sweetly added.
Elara let the compassion and love from her friends rejuvenate her. It was unbelievable to speak her conscious and not feel like she was losing her mind in the process. Usually, when you tell your girlfriends that you've been smooching a God, they ask where Brad Pitt is hiding and if they can join in on the party. But these girls never doubted her story, only showing unyielding support, love, and kindness.
Elara smiled sincerely, wiping away her tears with her knuckle. "I love you two more than anything."
"We know," Diana mused, encircling both girls in her arms. They basked in the comfort of their friendship and love. It sometimes takes a village to repair a wounded heart, and Elara was lucky that she had the best of the best to do just that.
When Diana gasped audibly, Elara and Lucy's heads snapped up.
"Holy shit," Lucy exhaled, her blue hues widening at the presence of Morpheus currently looming in Elara's living room without any notice. His raven hair was spiked per usual, his black coat on, and his hands were shoved in his pockets. His complexion radiated coldness as if his face was constructed of dense marble.
"I'm assuming this is him," Diana spoke aloud, casually taking her wine glass and generously sipping it.
"Yep," Elara dully responded, her expression tightening at him. Morpheus trained his vision solely on her face, and while she was still very, very hurt, her cheeks couldn't stop heating. He was always so intense. Elara lifted her glass to her lips and also took a generous sip.
Lucy, however, took the note too seriously. She stood up with aggression as if declaring battle. With her full glass, she scowled at Dream with a viciousness that could shake worlds. He looked back. She brought the wine glass to her mouth and let the liquid roll down her throat, never breaking her gaze with the Endless.
Diana and Elara's jaws fell to the floor, watching as Lucy chugged her whole glass of wine, never wavering in her one-sided staring contest with the omnipotent presence before her.
When Lucy finished the entire glass, she used her forearm to wipe away the remnants of red from her lips. She then slammed the glass down onto the table(which remarkably didn't shatter) and crossed her arms defiantly.
Silence plagued the room for just a second as Diana whispered, "She's honestly so scary sometimes."
Elara couldn't stop the full belly yelp from ripping through her throat, "My god Lucy!" She fell backward into the couch, her head hiding behind a curtain of her hair as she smashed her face into the cushion. Her shoulders racked with laughter as her hand came up to cover her face, her other balancing her glass.
Morpheus' vision flickered to Elara, where something indescribable flitted across his expression with how he studied her laugh. Diana caught it. She knew that look.
Diana smirked, eyeing the Dream Lord in the room and then back to Lucy, who still was evilly glaring. "I think this is our cue to go."
The nurse rose, grabbed her bag from the floor, and left her wine glass to join Lucy's on the table.
Lucy took the note and hastily snatched her bag as well. She trotted right up to the Endless as she fearlessly warned, "Fuck with her, and you fuck with me."
She glimpsed back at Elara with full warmth, like an entirely different person. "We love you, Lar."
"Get home safe," Elara beamed as she regarded them, still snickering from Lucy's absurdity. She was incredible, and Diana was her safety. Both girls offered her small waves as they moved around the King of Dreams and out of the apartment, the door clicking closed behind them.
Elara inhaled fully, sensing the weight of the room reset. It's been almost a week since she saw Morpheus last Monday morning, now Friday. His presence immediately tangled inside her, twisting knots of nervousness into every notch of her muscles.
She stood up from the couch, taking the wine glasses from the table. Elara said nothing to Morpheus as she sidestepped around him and into the kitchen. He was fixated on her, but she would not be the first to speak. He was invading her space, and he'd be the one to instigate the conversation.
She turned on the sink, letting the warm water run into the glasses with a dash of soap, and scrubbed. The sound of the water droplets striking the bottom of the sink filled the air, supplying the atmosphere with much-needed noise.
Elara tucked her brown hair behind her ear, ensuring the locks didn't get wet as she cleaned the stemmed glasses. She let the remnants of water trickle out once the glasses were spotless and positioned them on the drying pad beside her.
A sigh escaped her lips as she clasped the edge of her sink, her head dropping between her shoulders. When she glanced up, her sight met Morpheus again, and the eye contact was jarring. She looked down again at the sink, beads of moisture pooling in her vision. She could barely look at him.
Elara inhaled her strength and exhaled her swelling bitterness. She wasn't going to entertain his abrupt arrival, so she walked again around his physical form towards the couch to finish cleaning.
As she diverted about him, his warm hand gently enclosed her wrist.
"Elara," He breathed, and her skin intuitively prickled at his touch. Her body loved to double-cross her mind, desiring to bask in their magnetic connection.
Elara darted down to his hand on her wrist. She swallowed, reminding herself that he was not worth another tear. Despite how much she craved him, her mentality was solid in its resolve.
She attempted to blink back the wetness as she easily pulled her hand out of his grasp. "How long have you been here?
His swirling orbs swept across her face as he tried to gauge her current feelings. Morpheus' guard was locked into place, but his voice was laced with hurt as he admitted, "Long enough."
Silence.
How much did he hear?
He stared at her with a reserved countenance, but his eyes always betrayed him. Elara felt her heart shake when he remarked, "You were crying."
Elara curtly replied, "I have a lot to be upset about." She hastily dabbed away the final sprinkle of moisture from the corner of her eye. Her tears for Morpheus felt like kisses of embers, mocking her still vibrant emotions that pulsed through her veins. She bit them back.
Her sharp words broadened his eyes, his gaze tumbling to the floor.
When he composed himself and refocused on her, his storming hues burned with regret. His strong jaw locked. "I know I came here unannounced."
Elara crossed her arms defensively. "Per usual."
He seemed unsure about being here. He shifted his stance as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, his shoulders resetting down. He watched Elara intently for another long minute as he composed his thoughts. His lips parted beautifully as his decadent voice spoke, "I believe you are in great danger."
Elara was struck silent. She gathered herself quickly, her brows pinching. "Danger?"
The beginnings of dread rose within her. She took a breath to force it away, but it simmered, lingering.
The King of Dreams' lips tightened into a thin line as he expressed, "When you are experiencing your nightmares, I uncovered something disconcerting."
Elara rocked into her hip, arms tightly folded against her chest. Her heart palpitated with anxiety at his distinct phrasing.
His intricate gaze flickered to hers. His words were quick and concise. "You were stolen from The Dreaming."
Elara cocked her head, not understanding. From her conversations with Morpheus, The Dreaming was the place everyone went to when they closed their eyes at night and wished for something captivating to happen. It wouldn't make sense for her not to be there when she dreamed.
"I don't understand."
"Do you recall the Onyx Door in the Tulip Garden?" He questioned.
Elara frowned, her mind whisking back to that night. She was in the field of sparkling tulips, pointing out how one had reminded her of Morpheus' eyes… and then she was in her recurring terror on the moon. She couldn't remember an Onyx Door anywhere in her dream and never had encountered one before.
"I don't," She answered, uncertainty misting her face. "Why?"
"That night," He stepped threateningly close to her, his customary intensity twinkling in his eyes, "You had crossed worlds, leaving The Dreaming. The catalyst was an ancient doorway. In the Dreaming, when it appeared, you said you do not remember it but always walk through it before your nightmare commences."
A haunting chill ran down her spine, and her breath became shallow. The air evolved heavily as a creeping sensation snaked around her neck. How could she not remember that?
"That door disregards every law that The Endless have set, and it requires a great quantity of power to break into my realm," Morpheus resumed, the darkness behind his face ascending. "And someone has been using such power with only the intention to get to you."
Disbelief rippled across her. "Me?"
Morpheus loomed closer, peering down at her from their differing heights. The immense eye contact sent shivers down her spine. His voice went into her as he lowly confirmed, "You, Elara."
But she was just an ordinary woman. Elara grew skeptical. "That doesn't make any sense."
His breath ghosted her lips as his velvet tone articulated, "When you walked through that Onyx Door and out of The Dreaming, your soul detached from your body and ran the nightmare. Your actual, primordial being was fighting, which is why the pain you experienced was very real."
Her heart somehow managed to plunge deeper, the cadence of its beats quickening with apprehension.
Elara could've sworn she saw a glimmer of wetness in Morpheus' stare, full of remorse. His vision zipped back and forth between her eyes, scanning her face for any reaction, but Elara tensed at his nearness.
He was so damn close. Elara was confident he could hear her racing heartbeat. There was a knowing charge sparking between them, and Elara hated how much she wanted him closer.
At that moment, Morpheus took a step back as if flinching from the fire created by the nearness of their bodies.
An unknown visage affixed his stoic face as he moved away, and his fist visibly clenched as if to hold himself back. Elara's gaze flickered to his balled hands, then shifted to encounter his eyes. It was clear he was restraining himself with his minuscule body language.
Elara refocused.
"My soul was ripped from my body?" Elara unhurriedly asked her question, fearful of the answer. "How is someone that powerful?"
"While I was imprisoned, there was little I could do to stop this, and it likely did not take much to take you without my presence in the Dreaming. At the same time, they've been stealing the Eternal Essence of children, storing and harnessing their limitless energy. With that strength, they created the doorway that was so powerful to steal you, even with my return," Morpheus nearly snarled, a flash of unrestrained anger running through his storming hues.
Elara's hand came up to cover her mouth as she staggered back. "The missing kids."
"Yes."
She promised herself she would not cry for Morpheus, but she could not fight the wetness from stinging her eyes. She battled down nausea that nabbed her and blinked away the moisture.
At least nine children went missing in the past month. Five were never found, and one was violently shredded and died before Diana even had a chance to save her. The other three were cruelly displayed on the Louvre Pyramid just this morning. She had seen the gruesome photos online and nearly vomited at the sight.
The horrific fact that children were being murdered directly due to her nightmares was almost too much to bear.
Her feet hypnotically drifted to the couch, her body gradually sinking onto the cushion. The color drained from her face. Elara trained her vision on the floor, her sanity still at odds. She could not comprehend who could ever murder sweet innocent children, especially to get to her.
"I have nothing to give," Elara dismissed candidly. The King of Dreams stood beside her, monitoring her on the couch, his composure guarded.
He pointedly made eye contact with her before he said, "You are wrong."
Her fists balled in her lap. "I am just a normal person."
"Again, Elara…" Morpheus slowly sank down onto the couch to sit near her. His tone was distinctly gentle. "You are wrong."
Her eyes narrowed at him as she flared cruelly. "I am not Alena."
"I did not say that you were," Morpheus eased with that same careful tenderness. She didn't know his voice could be that soft… that comforting. A different emotion shifted in his galactic hues, instantly tugging at Elara's chest. She inhaled sharply, her mind parsing his sentence with all its possible meanings.
He… knew she wasn't Alena. He saw her as her own person.
A tiny sense of consolation washed over her, but it didn't change the churning disorder that was outpouring from him. His unease was driving into her, his words alarming and forcing her pulse to race.
"Please explain to me then," Elara nearly choked.
"Within your nightmare, when I…left you," His mouth was set with immense regret, "I was attempting to uncover a permanent way to end your nightmares. With this, I located a second door embedded into your soul, and I believe that it is what the darkness is scouring for. Miraculously, you've kept it hidden all this time."
Elara's mind was in spurting flames as she allowed his story to integrate into her own perspective. When he left her… he was attempting to save her forever from her torment. Morpheus didn't leave her just to leave her— he was trying to fulfill his promise. As if in a snap, the seed of her anger began to feel misplaced.
She regarded Morpheus, and subtly etched in his face was such deep sadness. She intuitively felt his extreme regret radiating outwards from his expressive eyes. Her heart was erratic.
Her head fell into her hands as she depressed her palms into her sockets. She had a growingly painful sensation in her throat, chest, and stomach.
She heard him shift next to her as his voice rang in her ears. "I thought that behind that door would be the answer to everything– to freeing you, to understanding what you are. But it vanished before I was able to open it."
Her head lifted from her hands, her glassy vision trained on him. A new surge of anxiousness escaped into his eyes while he strained to maintain his composure.
"The level of pain you experienced… the number of times in which your soul had been torn from your body and returned, is not something a human could withstand," Morpheus explained abjectly. His voice was level, but his words were foreign. "It was why I could not heal you… the damage was not physical but happened within your primordial form."
Her insides rapidly coiled, and the blood substantially rushed in her ears. She honed in on his exact phrasing in her head, repeating it.
Was he saying that she… wasn't human? That could not be further from the truth.
She shook her head and instantly denied, "I am human."
"I don't believe you are," Morpheus' rich voice softly uttered, as if he feared his words would break her. He was not wrong.
Her lips parted in shock, her gaze falling to her hands. They looked like average, mortal hands. Her palms had lines etched deep into their softness, creases that depressed and flattened as she clenched and unclenched her fist. She saw blue veins twisting under her pale skin, webbing throughout her wrist like roots supplying life to a tree. Her muscles controlled the tiniest movement as she flexed her fingers, her bones fluttering and shifting under her skin.
Her body has been hurt, sick, tortured, defiled, and healed. Her body came straight from her mother, grew up, and aged. It was a body that needed sleep, coffee, and haircuts. It was a body that required friendship and love to thrive every day.
She was a mortal.
But Morpheus was clearly stating the opposite. She had to confirm that she was everything she believed she was. It was all she knew.
The blinding panic set in and wormed into her soul without any defense or logic to stop it.
Something in that moment broke within Elara. Her sanity snapped.
"Bullshit," Elara spat with a surge of outrage. She had to know that she was of flesh and blood.
Her feet moved on their own.
Before she even fully comprehended her body's actions, she was in the kitchen. She had opened a drawer and seized one of her glistening steak knives. Morpheus slowly rose from the couch, his face affixed with immense concern.
Elara held her palm over her sink and skated the sharp blade along her flesh within seconds. She cringed, focusing on the crimson budding where she cut and the acute concentrated pain. She gasped when she saw the ruby liquid seep outwards into her trembling hand. She watched the redness pool like a tiny lake, creeping into the shallow cracks in her palm. The blood rippled and shined in her shaking grasp, swirling just like the waves of her wine.
This blood came from her.
She didn't even realize that her bladed hand moved again. She lifted the knife to repeat the motion when powerful arms banded around her from behind.
Morpheus' grip was strong as he swiftly yanked the knife from her hands, tossing the object to the side with a clang. She struggled in his stronghold, gritting her teeth as she withstood him.
She was human.
She was human.
She was human.
He flipped her towards him, hands on her arms, his brows lowering and his lips tight with an indescribable emotion. His composure was wavering and failing to click completely back into place. But his vulnerability was Elara's outlet.
Elara sneered at him, weakly hurling a single fist against his chest to break free from his hold.
"You're wrong!" She inwardly cried, twisting against his body. Morpheus' eyes glossed over as she attempted to wrench herself away from his hands, blood oozing through her clenched fist and streaming down her wrist in thin crimson rivers. She yelled with faltering vigor, "I am human!"
Her tears brimmed at the chaotic disorder stirring inside of her. She had no fucking idea who she was. She wanted to know what the hell was happening to her. She fought in vain against his impeccably firm hold, failing to find her release.
She collapsed into his body when her energy was depleted from fighting. Without hesitation, Morpheus securely enveloped his arms around her shaking form.
A sob ripped at her throat as Morpheus kept her near his chest, tears cascading down her cheeks as she openly cried into his warmth. "I'm human," she hiccuped, pressing her cheek into him.
One of his hands ran trails up and down her back to comfort her. His other weaved through her hair and soothingly smoothed it. He was consuming her with warmth, encasing her in a shield of protection and sanctuary. Being in his arms felt like coming home after a long, tasking journey. All her anger escaped in his arms, as if he were siphoning away her rage and replacing it with understanding.
She buried herself into him, inhaling his pacifying scent of honey and pine. He held her for what could've been hours, and he did not let her go. He did not loosen his hold for a moment.
When her body finally stopped shaking in his arms, and her tiny cries became sniffles, she drew back.
Her heart doubled over when she looked up at Morpheus. A single tear track stained his pale face, the narrow stream faintly gleaming against the matte of his skin.
There was so much pain in his eyes.
Their sadness was intertwining, leaning into each other and desperately seeking solace in the darkness. All traces of true anger had dissipated in the security of his embrace. Every emotion has plowed through her at once and ran its course, finally snuffing out and lifting from her body.
Now, all that was left, was what was broken.
Elara stared up at those galactic eyes and the subtle contractions in his brows and mouth, the only true indications of his feelings. Elara saw every shade of green in his regard— verdant, emerald, seafoam. She could even detect hints of blue, as deep as the ocean and bright as the sky. Each mist of color swirled and melted into one, and they gleamed down at her.
The brunette, without her fire, could only manage to whisper, "Being human was all that I had left."
Morpheus' gaze hardened, a slight pinch in his brows.
Suddenly, a soft, loving glimmer grazed her cheek. Elara breathed it in. It felt like there was static near her neck and the curve of her jaw, the tiny blonde hairs lifting into the air as Morpheus' fingers stroked her face.
Morpheus scanned her so minutely as if analyzing each nuanced movement of her composure. His voice was lodged deep within his chest, emanating like a rumble. His statement was raw and succinct, but he spoke as if he needed his remark to penetrate her. To bury into her. To mean something. "You are more."
Elara's bottom lip uncontrollably trembled as his emphatic phrase gently worked its way under her skin, cocooning her heart with a lover's embrace and sealing the hold with a heated kiss.
His hand moved to enclose her clenched fist, lifting it between them, and carefully encouraged open her fingers one by one. Elara regarded the glistening red blood swimming in her palm and escaping down her wrist. By spreading her hand, she immediately felt the sharp sting of her self-inflicted harm as the cut flexed wide. Morpheus' thumb, without hesitation, depressed into the edge of her wound. As he softly pressed down, her blood pooled, and the thick redness consumed the pad of his thumb as he traced along the slender gash. A gentle warmth instantly pushed into the sliced skin where he touched her, and her flesh started to mend itself miraculously.
Elara and Morpheus' eyes met each other for a split second as his thumb caressed her injury. And in that second of connection with his gaze, the intimate sensation of his tender healing kissing her open wound made her flare with indescribable heat. The air sapped from her lungs, and he made her dizzy with their proximity.
She pulled her sight from him as she refocused on her hand. The skin fully pieced together as he brushed against her, the gesture terminating the stinging sensation.
Elara frowned deeply as he returned her hand to her side once the cut was closed. Their bodies were still against one another, her back against the sink. Her heart was now fluttering like a bird.
Elara almost hated herself for how much she needed him. The only person who she wanted comfort from was the same person who foisted her heartache. It was like there was this uncontrollable fire within her that only he could ignite, and he fanned the flames with just a simple look. Elara told herself she wouldn't give in, but her heart clawed for him, scraping her against her ribcage as it lurched outward to hold him back.
And his damn eyes. It held all the despair in the world. At that moment, Elara realized she wasn't the only person in the room with a broken heart.
She weakly let her forehead fall forward onto his chest, her resolve crumbling to keep him away. She had a feeling he needed her just as much as she needed him.
His hands magnetically came up to stroke along her shoulders. Elara had no idea how he showed her kindness after her recent display of blatant cruelty, but she hungrily took his affection. Her lids fell shut as she turned her cheek flat against his black shirt. She listened to the thrum of his beating heart in his chest, drawn to the captivating sound of his body's symphony.
His strong arms, once again, enveloped her. She didn't know why, but his hug also healed her inside. The first embrace renounced her fury, but this hug was distinctly different.
This hug was meant to repair her. It was as if he saw her shattered, bleeding heart and began to intentionally patch the damage he had caused, as well as the damage he didn't cause. It felt like he wanted to heal her everywhere, wounds seen and unseen. He carried her into his darkness, as if encircling beneath his coat and into the safeness of his world.
Her tears saturated his shirt when she finally admitted, "This all hurts too much."
His hold tightened, her truth unintentionally inflicting pain.
Elara faintly murmured, "I just want to be enough."
She distinctly heard the rhythmic pounding in his chest quicken. His grip wound tighter, and his lips pressed into her hair. She detected his strong arms trembling for a moment, and it was as if his body was saying what he couldn't. You are enough. For the first time tonight, her hands grasped Morpheus back, winding around his lean body.
Elara buried herself into his warmth, shuddering. She needed him so badly. "I feel like I have talons inside my chest. Everything is hurtling towards me at once, and I can't handle it."
She took a deep breath, letting some of her anguish free. "I have memories and the face of a dead woman. My soul somehow has hidden secrets that I don't even know of. A shadow with mismatched eyes has been haunting me for as long as I can remember for reasons beyond me… All I had, all I ever had, was the fact that I was just a normal girl."
He stiffened immediately in a way she hadn't expected. Did she say something wrong? Morpheus drew away, and his lids incrementally widened as his head tilted. He spoke his following words carefully. "Mismatched eyes?"
Elara's brows furrowed at his sudden alertness. "The nightmare. A shadow always followed me with a pair of mismatched eyes."
"You've never mentioned that detail before."
"I just thought it was a part of the nightmare," Elara admitted, unsure of where he was going with this. Suddenly, his warmth was gone as he unexpectedly broke away from her.
Morpheus strode down her kitchen's walkway before rotating around at the end. A new surge of determination snapped across his face as if this additional information had clicked something into place.
The King of Dreams inhaled with new purpose as he declared, "I will protect you."
Her face instantly heated. Intensity laced in his words with a vehemence that could alter the universe. Her heart thumped as she sensed his energy twist through the room.
His visage glittered with fire as he proclaimed with ferocity, "Even if you hate me, I hope you will understand who you are to me— no one else. I will do everything within my power to save you from this, from all of this… from me. You have my word."
And with that, Morpheus' body was taken away by a whirlwind of sand, whisking about him before his entire being vanished instantly.
Elara's hand dropped to her chest, her heart descending like a heavy rock in bottomless water, sinking into endless ocean depths.
What just happened?
As a note, CH 9 was substantially updated with about ~6000 words. I highly recommend re-reading it, if you haven't since the last update.
Secondly, the cadence of this story is going to shift to bi-weekly, as I want to make sure it's perfect for you all!