Winter (Not Edited)

Chapter 13

That night, Winter had seen the phone and played around on it. She had also thanked Emerson for it, she was surprised he would buy something so expensive for her.

Emerson was sleeping, for the first time in almost a week. He hated sleeping, he didn't always have nightmares, but when wanted to close his eyes, he didn't like the risk that came along with it.

Winter was wide awake, she loved sleeping but after being bed ridden for a whole week she had extra energy.

She had changed into long fuzzy pants and a sweatshirt. Winter was curled up in a ball in her blanket, staring intently into the moon lit room.

Emerson was having a nightmare and though he couldn't help it, he was always annoyed by his own problems. Maybe he was even embarrassed by his nightmares, as if it wasn't enough to haunt him in the day, his memories haunted him in his sleep as well.

Winter almost jumped out of bed when she heard a loud noise. It sounded like a scream. Emerson? Why would he be screaming?

Slowly she walked towards Emerson's room, her blanket trailing behind her. She wrapped the blanket closer as she arrived at Emerson's door.

"Help!" Emerson growled in his sleep. The door was cracked and Winter could see him moving back and forth.

Was he dreaming?

She slowly opened the door, making her way towards his bed. Her hand was trembling as another scream erupted from Emerson.

His rapid reaction to this dream showed Winter it was not a dream, but a nightmare. She crept towards the bed, what could she possibly do.

"Make it stop!" Emerson shouted, loudly as single tear leaked out of his closed eyes.

Winter's heart felt like it was going to explode, what was he dreaming of? Her hand reached out to touch him. He clenched the sheets as his body rose and fell, with his uneven breathing.

Winter's hand made contact with his hot skin. Instantly, he flinched. Though after a few seconds of her hand on his bare chest, his breathing slowed.

She was extremely confused, what could cause such a reaction. It must have been a terrible dream.

He had now turned the other direction, so his back was facing Winter. She slowly reached her hand out and began running her fingers along his back. Emerson relaxed under her touch.

The dream had stopped before Emerson had the chance to wake up. He was now back in a peaceful sleep.

Winter's fingers grazed his tone shoulders all the way to the sheet. She pulled the sheet over his body and turned away. It was something she never thought she would see, Emerson was struggling.

She wouldn't tell a soul of what she saw, but it wouldn't matter, who would she tell.

The next morning came quickly and Winter was worried for Emerson. She made breakfast and his coffee.

Emerson woke up, he knew he had a nightmare, but somehow he managed to sleep through the rest of the night. He swallowed the guilt that began to grow in his gut and went to get ready for the day.

He hoped Winter did not hear him last night, the less she knows the better, Emerson thought.

"I made you a coffee." Winter said quietly as she brought him the coffee in a clear mug. Emerson really did not feel like conversing with anyone. He was angry, at himself.

The guilt Emerson suppressed daily made him feel beyond irritable.

He nodded and sat down. Watching Winter cook was calming, watching her do her work in general was calming to Emerson. He didn't understand why it was satisfying to watch Winter.

But even his pure maid could calm the deep guilt he felt. It was a bad day, some days are easier for Emerson and others were the worst.

Winter finished cooking her breakfast and headed towards the chair beside Emerson. Standing there, she looked at Emerson for permission to sit.

"This is your house as much as it is mine. You do not need my permission to sit." Emerson said, irritation laced his deep voice.

Winter quickly sat down, not wanting to bother him more. She wondered why he would sit there if he, visibly, did not want to.

She wanted to ask him if he was alright, but she had already decided that she was not going to mention that she saw Emerson's nightmare. Though it would poke at her the entire day if she neglected to make sure her boss was alright.

"Good morning," Winter immediately regretted saying it and her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

Emerson looked over at her, acting all shy. He couldn't help but notice her flush cheeks, he watched her intently. He didn't know how to respond, but with maybe a glimpse of his life.

"Not a good morning." Emerson said as he sipped his coffee again.

Winter's heart felt like it was beating harder. She didn't know what to say. How could she make him feel better, her mind searched ways that one cheers up another one.

"What happened when the can opener and the envelope got engaged?" Winter said without a second thought.

Hopefully Emerson was the joking type, she thought.

Emerson peeled his gaze off of the counter and to the smiling Winter. God she is beautiful, Emerson thought.

"Hmm I don't know." Emerson said peering at her. Winter's smile grew more.

"Think!" She giggled thinking of the answer to her own joke.

Emerson almost smiled at the beautiful sound coming from the angel beside him. He only hoped that his silence would make her answer the joke for him.

"They cantalouped." Winter's smiled was now a grin, that became a laugh. Emerson on the other hand, involuntarily, raised the corners of his mouth.

This only made Winter smile more, Emerson never smiled and when he did it made Winter warm. She wanted to make him smile again.

"You should smile more." Winter's voice came out louder than it normally did, because of her previously laughing.

Emerson smiled again.