My Therapist's Son,

My Therapist's Son, [5]

"R-R-Ryan." I mumbled, almost silently.

"Shut up," He snapped, the gun still pointed towards me, but his eyes quickly scanned the room.

"Ryan!" I screamed, finally finding my voice, and my sudden outburst caused him to freeze, and his eyes met mine sharply.

"Where are they?"

"Who?"

"Whoever made you scream,"

"I just have nightmares. I'm so sorry I woke you up,"

He lowered the gun, allowing his lungs to relax and exhale. He smiled at me and nodded, "Good."

As he turned to leave, a confused look grew on my face.

"Ryan? What were you going to do with it?"

"Shoot whoever hurt you,"

"Really?"

"Yeah, good night, Mia."

***

I felt hands on me again, and I opened my eyes slowly, praying it was a dream, and when it was pure darkness in front of me, I let out a sigh of relief. I closed my eyes again for a split second, and horrible images of Tim flashed into my hand, and I started to shake and cry uncontrollably. The door swung open, and Ryan reappeared, gun in hand.

"Nightmare," I told him, pulling the covers over me tighter, "Sorry,"

"Do you want me to stay in here with you, or do you want to come in my room?"

I noticed that I was still in the livingroom, laying on his couch, a blanket drapped over me.

"Neither, I'm fine."

"That wasn't a choice," He smirked, and I grabbed the blankets, dragging them behind me as I followed him to his room.

"Sleep," He pointed at the bed.

"Oh, no. I couldn't."

"Sleep." He demanded.

"Are you?"

"I'll sleep next to you?" He wondered.

"Oh. I can't."

"I won't--"

"Please. I just can't."

"I'll watch you sleep then." He smiled at me, sitting in the chair across from his bed.

He set the gun on the end table next to him. It was a dark wood, along with the rest of his bedroom furniture. I shook my head, not allowing him to do this.

"You can't stay up while I sleep,"

"Watch me."

***

I gasped, sitting up, but I was thankful to find Ryan sitting across the room, and not touching me in awkward places. To be perfectly honest, I'm so sick and tired of these fricken nightmares, it's not even funny.

Ryan shook his head a little and rubbed his eyes, awakening.

"You all right?" he questioned, opening his gorgeous eyes, allowing them to shine into mine.

"Yeah, sorry."

"It's not your fault."

He sat up taller, trying not to fall asleep, and despite my brain screaming NO!, my heart told me, slide over. I moved a little more towards the opposite side of the bed, and I rolled over to face him. I patted the bed next to me, smiling.

"No, it's fine," Ryan pleaded, but I insisted.

And, I was actually OK with it.

Ryan built a wall out of pillows, to seperate us, but I knocked them down after the next nightmare, so I'd feel safer. About halfway through the night, after the sixth or seventh nightmare, I moved closer to Ryan and fell asleep with my head resting on his shoulder. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was him wrapping his arm around me, pulling, and holding, me closer to his body, and stroking my hair was his hand.

I didn't have any other nightmares after that, for the rest of the night.

***

hey guys! i know it's short, but it's something, right?! more tomorrow, half day for school, so i can write some! xoxo,

comment! AND VOTE! **CLIIICCKKK MEEEE, YOU KNOWWW YOUUU WAAAANNTTT TO!** <-- p.s., that was the vote button ;D