Eternal Longing ✓

16. Morning Madness

JAYA

I wake up with a start.

Heavy darkness surrounds me, only a sliver of light bouncing off the far wall from the moon outside. It takes me a second to get my bearings as I stare at that slice of light.

I take in three deep breaths, the feeling of the comfy bed I'm lying on lulling me into delicious sleep once more. Gradually, I'm closing my eyes again when a deep, guttural sound from my left startles me.

I don't move, waiting for the sound to make another appearance before I can run the hell away out of Finley's bed. I'm not some stupid girl from a cliché horror movie. I'm not getting killed tonight.

Hold up, Finley's bed?

Turning my head to the left, I pray like hell that Finley is not getting murdered right next to me and that I'm next.

The pained sound breaks the silence once more, and I blink rapidly to try and see what is happening in the darkness.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

As my eyes get acclimated to the dark, I spot the source of the sound. Finley. He's laying on his back next to me, his body trembling and observably tense. His eyes are shut closed, so I know he's not awake.

Another low, pained sound emerges, this time longer and louder than the previous ones. He doesn't say anything coherent, but it's clear that he's in the throngs of a bad dream.

A nightmare.

"Oh, Finley," I whisper lowly, sitting up slowly to not wake him up abruptly.

I've always heard that one shouldn't wake up a person in the middle of a nightmare, but I've never actually been in the position to know if that's true.

But being in the bed with someone who looks so pained, with his entire body rigid and sweat coating his forehead, I want to chase the night terror away.

"Finley, honey. Wake up," I whisper, trying to keep the shakiness in my tone to a minimum.

A heart-wrenching sound, one that sounds almost like a sob, escapes his lips and I watch as his entire body starts shivering even hard. Wherever he is in his sleep, is not a pleasant place at all.

"Finley, please wake up." I sit up fully now, wanting to shake him awake but fearing his reaction if I do so.

I'm not entirely sure how I got to his room, how I'm in his bed at all since the last thing I remember after being blessed by his tongue was being gently eased on the couch and eased to sleep as a finger grazed my cheek.

He must have brought me here. And with the medicine I took, it makes sense that I couldn't stay awake. Pain medicine always makes me extra drowsy.

When another agonizing wail leaves him, I can't help myself anymore and slide my hand to his heaving chest. The room is cool and fresh thanks to the air conditioning system, but his T-shirt is damp and the skin underneath scalding hot.

"I'm right here, Finley," I murmur, leaning a bit closer to him. "Please, wake up for me."

I'm not sure if my hand on his chest is what stops him, but his entire body stills. I'm very close to panicking, but the rhythm of his erratic heart puts me at ease a bit.

It's silent for a stretch, and anxious to know that he's okay, I mutter softly, "Finley, you're alright. I'm here, honey. I'm here."

Eyes still closed, the tension seems to slowly leave his body. I blink back the tears and silently chastise myself for making this about me and my feelings.