Good Morning

Fourth Morning

She wakes up with a start, heart pounding and breath coming out of her mouth in hot bursts.

When she notices the room is dark but for the glow of the moonlight creeping through the windows, she lets out a long breath and allows her heartbeat to slow before she turns to look at him.

His eyes are open, but unblinking as he tries to process the events of the previous night.

"Did you dream?" she asks, voice low and cautious.

"No," he answers while pulling himself up onto his elbows. His skin is still glistening with sweat, and his hair is messy.

She feels the same way, although she may never admit it out loud again. Not after that moment she shared with him.

"Do you remember?" She speaks softly, not wanting to break the spell that seems to have been cast over them.

He shakes his head a little, and the darkness doesn't help his features sink into an even deeper state of disrepair. He looks older somehow. She doesn't want to think about what that means, but it makes her wonder if it was that much of a dream in the first place.

"A part of me wants to forget," he admits. She thinks she can hear the emotion behind it, but can't quite decipher it.

It takes her a little longer to find her words, and she can tell that he senses it too. It's another sign that maybe things weren't as one sided as she thought. Maybe she had done just as much as he had.

"We should talk about it later," she suggests.

"There aren't going to be any 'later' moments, are there?" he wonders.

She shrugs.

"Good. Because you're not leaving my room tonight."

This time she laughs, and the sound is rich and full. It stirs something in her, something she hasn't felt since the beginning of the nightmare.

"I probably shouldn't even bother asking, but what are we doing then?"

He closes his eyes and when he opens them again, his gaze is sharper. "I'm not sure yet."

That statement alone is enough to make her smile, but he has her laughing again. Just the sight of him is enough to make her laugh, and it's been a long time since that happened.

"So long as you don't sleepwalk again, I think we'll be alright."

He chuckles, but it's the kind that quickly fades away into something else entirely. Something sad. Or maybe it's just something that she doesn't understand.

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on anything like that happening again. I promise."

"I hope you're right, because if you don't stay asleep, I'm going to find a way to wake you up myself. I don't know if I want you to come back to your own room if you don't want to."

His eyebrows rise, and she can see the effort it takes for him to hold back the laughter. This time, she joins him, even though it hurts to do so. He shifts closer and wraps his arm around her shoulders.

"I can take you back to yours if you'd like. I'm sure you must be tired."

She shakes her head.

"No, that's fine. I'll try to get some rest here. It's warmer. Besides, this is probably better than being locked in my own mind."

His grip tightens. "I wish I could say the same."

They linger in silence for a moment, neither wanting to move or speak because the moment is too precious for words.

"Was that a real memory?" she finally asks, but he doesn't answer her right away.

"I don't know," he admits, "I really don't."

A part of her wishes that he could give her a definitive answer, but she understands why he couldn't. This wasn't his story to tell.