Soft Touch

Steady Steps To You

Enid hadn't ever really been effected by nightmares, or dreams in general. She knew they weren't real, and she knew to not let them interfere with her life. Most of them were so bizarre, it was incredibly difficult to believe in any them anyway. And not to mention the good portion of dreams she was constantly forgetting.

Never had she even been even remotely frightened by a nightmare, not until Wednesday began appearing in them.

=======================

It wasn't a good night for Enid, not at all. She had been completely restless the night before, unable to close her eyes for too long or else she would get bored.

Her phone supplied no extra entertainment, either, and on the nights she couldn't sleep, she would scroll through it to get herself tired. Wednesday had always been against the idea, saying it was bad for her eyes, which was unarguably true, but there was still nothing the goth could do to stop her.

Tonight, though, she was sure nothing could save her from the inevitable doom called a nightmare.

Enid tosses and turns beneath the hot bubble of her covers, her mind racing and forehead damp and dappled with sweat. Most of her hair is stuck to her head in moist clumps, while some sticks out in the air at many odd angles.

She had been plagued with nightmares about her fight with the Hyde since the night it happened, and has never truly been able to shake herself from them. She barely slept some nights because of them, and the images she endured.

She tries to be as quiet as she possibly can, but silence comes with difficulty every time she does manage to drift back off. She jolts awake multiple times throughout the night, barely managing to stop herself from screaming, or crying. She never explored the feeling enough to know the specifics.

There was almost no doubt she had woken Wednesday by now, but the goth's complete soundlessness indicated absolutely nothing.

She debates on standing and seeing if Wednesday was still awake for a moment. She didn't want to bother her, but she figured maybe hearing Wednesday's voice and seeing her face would help with her nightmares, or miraculously assist her into quickly feeling better.

After one long moment more of debating, she stands, the old springs of her bed frame creaking loudly in the almost complete silence of the night. She winces, briefly pausing before setting the remainder of her body weight on her feet.

She approaches Wednesday with cautiously yet steady steps, completely unaware of the locations of any possible weapons Wednesday (most likely) kept near her bed.

"Wednesday?" She whispers, her throat oddly dry for someone who had gotten something to drink not too long ago.

"Are you sleeping?" Enid's footsteps slow, and she bravely reaches a hand up to Wednesday's still body, resting it on her shoulder.

The goth lets out a quiet sigh, though she doesn't sound annoyed, but rather, relieved. "No, I'm training to die," she replies sarcastically, the whites of her eyes glowing bright in the moon-lit room as she lifts her eyelids to reveal them.

Enid's eyebrows furrow, and she daringly takes a seat on the edge of Wednesday's bed, seemingly unbothered by the glare she receives by doing so, she stares at the goth, her lips parted and head vaguely tilted.

"Is there something I can assist you with?" Wednesday's voice is as monotone as ever, though it carries the almost completely unnoticeable hint of sleepiness she hadn't been able to hide so well.

"I had a nightmare." Her voice is quiet, soft, afraid.

Wednesday scoffs immediately, and for barely a moment it looks like she smiles, the corner of her lip briefly lifting. She found the childish fear instilled inside Enid from a small, hardly scary dream more than enjoyable.