To the smart, interesting and funny woman who can make me think, make me marvel, make me smile. :)
kairos
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He doesn't know what woke him, at first.
His eyes fly open and he blinks a few times, adjusting to the darkness as his heart leaps frantically. The night is silent, the city's sounds muffled by layers of snow; the room splotched with pale blue moonlight that glints off the crystallized white surfaces, sneaks through the blinds, glares off of corners and walls.
And then he hears it and knows why he woke, what jerked him into consciousness. A sound so sad that he aches all over. A pitiful whimper, an almost sob.
He turns for her, seeking her, and his bed never seemed as wide before as when he's searching for her in the semi-dark. They must've shifted over night because Kate lies sprawled on her back, hands flung up beside her head, balled into tight fists. Her face is scrunched up, none of the peacefulness lining her features that he had witnessed during the nights before. Instead her brows are furrowed and her eyes pinched closed, the sides of her mouth drawn into a sad crescent moon. The sight makes him want to draw her back into his arms, spoon himself around her, hold her safe and tight.
He rolls in closer, as close as he can but careful not to touch her – afraid he'd startle her, scare her even more while she's held captive in the throes of a nightmare. She whimpers again, her lips quivering, and a lone tear leaks from the corner of her eyes, forging its path down her cheek.
She's crying. In her sleep.
His heart breaks; it's almost as if he can feel the cracks and fissures through its walls, the pain unfurling through him like tentacles that rip him open, puncture his flesh, strangle him of air. He's aching for her, hurting with her; he wants to help her, protect her from her demons, be her knight in shining armor and yet he doesn't know what to do, feels so helpless in the face of everything she's going through.
Her head starts thrashing on the pillow, a garbled cry reverberating in her throat and a leg kicking at the covers and he stops thinking altogether, he just reaches for her. Tentatively, he lays his palm to her head, almost no pressure behind his touch as his skin meets her skin, her forehead warm and sweaty.
She stops thrashing and he holds his breath, the beat of his heart loud in his ears, heavy in his throat. He curls his fingers against her temple, caresses the vulnerable spot. Another whimper but it's quieter, just pitifully sad as she roots for the warmth of his touch.
He scoots closer, made brave by his slight success. His hand heavier on her forehead and the other cradled to her shoulder, he hovers his mouth by her ear, the tip of his nose brushing the shell.
"Shhh, it's okay," he whispers, his voice no more than a hum that trembles in the dark. At first he's not sure if he imagines it but then it's undeniable - her fingers loosening incrementally from the piercing grip into her palms. Her features relaxing, softening the frown etched between her brows and the pinch of her mouth. Her whole body sinking, melting heavily into the mattress.
He murmurs inane reassurances, sweet nothings, cradling her with the warmth of his presence; makes promises he maybe shouldn't make but that he needs her to believe anyway because it's all he's got.
"You're okay. You're safe. I've got you, Kate. I've got you now."
Next time he wakes, it's to the tickle of weak-yellow beams of sunlight crawling along the hardwood, over the comforter and into his nose, and the lissome weight of Kate draped onto his chest, her chin pressed to his sternum as she looks at him, wide-eyed and solemn.
He's stunned, for a long second, keeps blinking at the flecks of warmth dusted across his bedroom after days and days of being greeted by endless November grey before awareness catches up to him that he's waking up to Kate, and any sunlight pales in comparison to the honey-combed warmth in her eyes.
"Hey." She smiles softly when their eyes meet, her hair a wild riot framing her face, cheeks still creased with sleep and her voice morning-rough. It zigzags through him like electricity, sharp and fervent, arrowing into every part of him, rising through his skin.
He wonders if he would ever get used to this. He can't imagine that this would ever get old, that he wouldn't just always be captivated by the allure of waking up with her like this, warm and limber and somnolent.
He reaches for her, fingers curling into the tangled mass of her hair. "How are you so beautiful first thing in the morning?"
She huffs a small laugh, her lashes lowering and a blush tinting her cheeks as she tries to hide her face against his chest. He cradles her jaw with his palm, tugs her back up, can't miss a single moment of her adorable, sleepy softness.
Kate blinks up at him, her mouth opening on a trembling breath. He holds her gaze, can't stop looking at her as he draws her closer. One of her legs slides between his thighs, her fingers splayed against the ripples of his ribcage. Her eyes widen, dark and luminous, her lips shimmering, like they were brushed with diamond dust and he feels robbed of all air, his heart racing in his chest.
"You okay?" He murmurs, painting her cheekbone with the brush of his thumb.
"Yeah." She must see it on his face because she grows more serious. "Why?"
"You had a nightmare."
"Oh." She looks away, stares out the window for a long moment. The sunlight brightens her eyes, makes her pupils seem almost translucent; pained. "Yeah, I guess I did."
"You get those a lot?" And it hurts, hurts him someplace deep inside, like a punch in the gut, the pain flaring out in concentric circles. To think of her sleeping alone on those nights, haunted by nightmares and terrors, without anybody to hold her close – without him to cradle her in his arms. He can still see it, doesn't think he'll ever forget the image of her face crumpled in pain, splashed with tears, the sight of her struggling and fighting, so frightened in her sleep. He wants to never let her leave; wishes he could simply demand of her to stay with him every night. To just… stay with him.
He wishes she would want that.
"On occasion." She shrugs, turning back for him and he knows she's downplaying the frequency of her bad dreams by the way her lashes lower and her teeth are snagging at her bottom lip. "This one wasn't too bad. It kind of just... faded."
"Good." He smiles, can't quite keep the relief out of his voice that he was actually able to help her. That maybe his presence drew her away, could counter whatever demons were haunting her, at least this once. He curves his hand to her waist, fingers trembling at the dip of her spine.
Kate drags herself higher against him, her body a svelte, warm line molding to the harder planes of his. She combs her fingers through his hair, trailing down his cheek while she regards him silently and he can almost see the thoughts racing through her brain as she seems to make up her mind about something. His heart thunders, his skin tingling with awareness, heat flashing through him.
"Thank you," she whispers, her thumb caressing his bottom lip. Her eyes flick down to his mouth, then back up to meet his eyes.
"For loving me so much."
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Thank you for reading and your lovely responses that brighten my day.