Nightmares (Enorace Fluff)

Chapter 6

For the first time in days, Enoch fell asleep instantly. He slept for hours and hours, a luxury he'd been so deprived of lately that he felt confused at how well rested he felt when he woke in the middle of the night. He would have gone back to sleep, but something had caused him to wake up. He listened, and sure enough, there were the quiet sobs. He sighed. Did Horace's nightmares never let up? All the same, he was up and at Horace's door before he knew it.

When he first walked in, Enoch stopped, confused. Horace's bed was empty, and he couldn't see him anywhere. Then he heard the sobbing again and realised that Horace was curled in the far corner of the room. He was clearly asleep but his eyes were open, and he sat with his knees brought up to his chest in fear, as if he was cowering from some invisible force. Enoch sighed.

"What are you doing there?" he muttered to himself, kneeling in front of him.

"No no no no no," Horace mumbled, flinching. "No no stop."

"It's okay," Enoch said. "Wake up, Horace, it's just a nightmare. Everything's fine."

Horace shuddered and covered his face with his hands.

"Don't hurt me."

Enoch blinked.

"I'm not going to-"

"Stop! Please! Don't hurt me!" Enoch quickly shook him awake and Horace's eyes flew open. "Don't-! ...Oh..."

Horace seemed to register Enoch, then glanced around the room in confusion.

"Why am I-?" he frowned, still shaking a little.

"On the ground? I dunno. But you were having a nightmare so I woke you up."

"Oh..." Horace said quietly. Then he hesitated. "...Sorry." His shoulders were shaking and he sniffed, wiping his eyes roughly.

"It's fine," Enoch shrugged. He gave Horace a worried glance. "You okay?"

"I-I'm alright," Horace said, but he was fighting tears.

Enoch had no idea what the hell his brain was doing, but he suddenly leaned forward and hugged Horace fiercely.

Horace seemed just as surprised as Enoch was, but he hugged him back as Enoch reached up and hesitantly ran his fingers through his hair.

Enoch felt sick and strange. He didn't understand what had possessed him to do that, but he didn't want to stop. Horace didn't seem to mind either. He wasn't crying anymore, but he didn't seem like he wanted to pull away, and Enoch was strangely glad for it. Something about holding Horace like this, with his warm body pressed against Enoch's, was weirdly comforting.

Horace shifted uncomfortably and Enoch immediately let him go.

He thinks you're weird. He thinks you're weird for hugging him. You shouldn't have done that.

"I'm sorry that was dumb, I-" Enoch started, but Horace rolled his eyes and pulled him towards the bed.

"The ground was just cold, dummy," he laughed.

"Oh," Enoch grinned, feeling stupid.

He sat down next to Horace on the mattress, leaning back against the wall.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, and Enoch was suddenly conscious of Horace's hand next to his. He glanced down as Horace reached out to trail his fingers hesitantly over Enoch's. Enoch's heart leapt into his throat and he searched Horace's face with confusion. Horace gave him a coy smile.

"You know, you pretend you're this big tough guy," Horace said, "but really you're just a softie."

"Y-yeah?" Enoch felt his face growing hot.

"Mhm."

"Yeah, well..." Enoch didn't know what to say to that.

Horace laughed, looking at him with big, trusting eyes and smiling in a way that filled Enoch with happy warmth. He couldn't help but smile back.

Enoch laced his fingers with Horace's, feeling confused and sick and happy. Their faces were close now- as close as they had been in the grass earlier, and normally Enoch hated people in his personal space, but for some reason he didn't want to pull away. In fact, he had the strange urge to lean closer and close the gap between them completely. Enoch leaned forwards and Horace did the same, their lips centimetres apart, sharing the same breath, Enoch's heart beating out of his chest- when there was a knock at the door.

They leapt apart, wide eyed and blushing, as the door handle turned. Miss Peregrine stood in the doorway, taking in the scene as Enoch shifted away and refused to look at Horace.

"Evening, Mr Somnusson. I thought I heard crying earlier, and I was just coming to make sure you were alright."

She raised an eyebrow at the two of them. "But it appears that Mr O'Connor has it covered."

Horace gaped at her.

"Um, y-yes Miss, I'm fine now thanks," he said, stumbling over the words.

"Excellent! Well, off to bed then, you two," she said briskly.

When Enoch didn't move, she cleared her throat. 

"Mr O'Connor. Come now. It's far past your bedtime." 

He stood and she steered him hurriedly out the door by his shoulders.

She'd claimed that she was concerned about Horace, but it seemed to Enoch like she was more concerned about what Horace might be doing. Enoch frowned from his bed as Miss Peregrine walked away. She couldn't know, could she? But then again, he swore the woman had a sixth sense for trouble.

"Old prude," he muttered, switching off his lamp. But then he smiled as he stared at the ceiling.

All he could think about was Horace.