Sleep eludes him.
Is lying, muscles tight, fierce between soft sheets. Knees drawn up, hands fists. Memories flash, a rapid slideshow, like swift kicks.
Here is the storm beneath the quiet.
Is reeling. Mouth a pressed line. Sleep will be a long time coming.
Click of latch. Small whine of hinge. Steps first tentative, then sure, approaching.
Christ.
There will be prattle.
"Dude, you won't believe..."
Prattle.
Burrows deeper, shelters inward, weary.
"And then..."
Prattle.
Doesn't turn toward him.
Bite of lip instead.
Stops, abrubtly.
"Hey, you ok?"
Peers, blinking.
"Ryan?"
Hand ventures, hesitant. Hovers, almost touching. Pulls back;
reaches out...
...touch alights, (whispered);
and thoughts hush.
And time itself seems bated like caught breath.
"Hey, listen. I can..."
Savors, brows knit, eyes-closed-wanting.
"...go..."
Like the snap of rubber band, unfreezes. Twists spine to upright, spills legs over edge of bed.
Draws back, takes breath in, sharply.
But broken bend of back says: Wait.
And hand, after roughly through hair, grips knee in welled-up rythym, says: Stay.
Softly, "Hey..."
Toes worked over toes like wringing hands, trembles.
Moves slow, so as not to startle. Sits carefully, weight gentle on the bed.
Breath knots in throat.
"Hey..." Low, like singsong. "Hey..."
Throat moves up and down in jagged swallow.
Hand pulls up, fingers unfolding...
...feels them soothe, slow along his temple,
(shudders through him, breath)
...hears their whisper, curled behind his ear.
The rigid in him crumbles, starts to lean.
Seep of weight into his shoulder...
...like sigh of ship to mooring.
Gathers, shushing.
Traces nape of neck with thumb.
Presses kiss to top of head, and (ruffles hair from breath) lingers.
Here is the quiet from the storm.
Head nuzzles, settles to its niche like tuck of rustled wing. Brow unfurrowed, mouth soft. Breath becomes a slowful rythym.
Sleep, like arms, enfolds him.-