Prompt: I'm right here, okay? You're all right.
Not every night is like this, she's noticed. Most nights are peaceful and calm, and neither appear to stir. Other nights are bearable, and his abrupt stirring is noted by her. His abrupt stirring is felt through the way his fingers cling to the sheets, or the way that he so clearly knocks them from around his legs, or in the way that his weight shifts from around her, and she can no longer feel his weight, pressed flush against her.
There is the rare night, such as last night, in which his very existence was shifted so abruptly from around her, that her response was also to bolt upright. Before her was a silhouette of silence, a frame of flesh and bones, and deep within him does the storm crack. Deep within the depths of him that remain untouched, Kai finds that there is a plague that rattles hallow bones. To Hilary, Kai looked vulnerable, and yet even within the way that muscles tightened and trembled, he remained untouchable, a boy that would constantly be upon the edge of being out of her reach.
It was those sort of nights in which he would usually dismiss her comments, and efforts at small talk. It was those sorts of nights where the switch that was usually on when around her, was turned off, and he turned back in upon himself. It was those sorts of night where he'd usually have gotten out of the bed, and done something, anything, in aid of passing time, but last night had been somewhat different, and drenched within his silence, he'd drop back into her comfort.
In the morning, he'd barely stirred, but had worn his vulnerability like a second skin. It was an odd sight. Hilary always recalled him as powerful and firm. Fierce, but kind. She recalls him as gentle breeze that offers calm, but he can burn like the fires that home hell. He can scorch, and he can make your flesh bubble and blister, but he can also serve as a gentle song, a faint reminder within the way his lips would praise her flesh.
She remained settled aside of him, pressed upon her side as she watched him. Kai usually woke up first, it must have been a schedule that was fit for him, and his routines, but it was unusual to find him still buried deep within the pillows. It allowed her time, time to admire the way the faint light of sun would present itself upon his flesh, and how thankfully, it just managed to miss his eyes. It highlights the faint scuffs that are left upon his skin, the faint marks that remind her of his past matches, the little flaws that have come to define him.
Her fingers reach out, supple in flesh, and precise within their actions, tender was delicate tips guide themselves politely against his mouth. Her actions are faint, but even being faint, they manage to have him stir. Nose crinkles faintly, as if her fingers are lightly tickling him, and of course, he wasn't expecting it.
"What are you doing?" He doesn't even open his eyes, barely opens his mouth either, so how he became so audible, she doesn't know. He doesn't move away from her offered touch however, he stays completely still, though Hilary couldn't tell if that was his intention, or if he genuinely couldn't find the motivation to move out of the way. Her brows furrow slightly, and her fingers shift from his mouth, to dance up the scale of his face, and into the slate tinge of his fringe.
"I'm playing poker, what do you think, smart guy?" Her tone is playfully sharp, but never too sharp in which it could cut one's epidermis. He doesn't say anything, he certainly doesn't need to say anything, but it's within his best efforts, that he turns upon his opposing side, and she's left locking a hazel stare upon his back. Hilary's fingers carefully slide up the centre of his back, tips memorised by the length of his spine, intoxicated by the faint ripples of the disks, before she runs her hand over his shoulder, and politely ghosts it over his torso.
"I'm right here, okay?" Kai finds that her whisper is gentle, and yet intoxicating, and it leaves his skin shuddering delicately under her touch. He notes that her arm is wrapped around his middle, fingers are light as they dance amongst the span of his skin. Her fingers cherish him.
"You're all right." Her mouth is tender, skilled within the gentle way that she talks, skilled within the way that she manages a fair balance between different tones, and can negotiate with them when the time calls. It isn't unusual for Kai's back to be pressed flush to Hilary's front, at least, not when he feels like this. He feels like he's crumbling, but wrapped under the strength of her embrace, reminds him that he can be put back together, and he's thankful that she seems willing to try.
"You're a pain, but you're all right."