GROUNDING 🏈 Nick Bosa

#EIGHTY SEVEN.

I wake up in the middle of the night completely, traumatized by a bad dream. I try going back to sleep, but the imagines of the dream were now burnt into my mind and I couldn't close my eyes without seeing them.

I check the time and it was 2:32 in the early morning hours.

After a lot of deliberation and my poor decision making skills. I decide to go to Nicks room, I crack the door open and peek in. He was fast asleep, I almost turned around and went back into my room, but I needed comfort in the moment and that was more important to me than my morals.

"Nick?" I loudly, whisper.

It took him a second, but he woke up and peered at me across the room with sleepy eyes.

"Yeah?" He softly, asks.

"I had a bad dream." I say.

"A bad dream?" He questions me a bit confused and still dazed from his slumber.

"Yes."

"Come here." He replies, lifting up the blanket.

I crawl into bed with him and we face one another as we lay our heads onto the pillows.

"What kind of bad dream?" He asks, quietly.

"I had a dream about my plane crashing." My voice was trembling.

"Oh, wow." He rolls onto his back and clutches the sides of his head. "Don't say shit like that."

"Well, that's what it was about. It was scary." I tell him.

"Maybe you shouldn't go, then." He goes back to facing me and smirks through lazy eyes.

"It was just a dream." I laugh, faintly.

"Why are you in my bed then?" He asks.

"—Because it was scary."

His hands reach up around my waist and he pulls me into his chest. I rest my head against him.

"Want me to fly down there with you? I don't have to go to pro bowl. We can both be scared together." He says, quietly. I can feel his chest hum as he talks and it made me feel safe and warm.

"No, I want you to go hangout with your friends and have a good time in Vegas." I reply.

"I honestly, don't want to go." He groans.

I giggle.

"What?" He squeezes me.

"Who wouldn't want to go to Las Vegas?" I question him. "Especially, as a guy."

"Been there done that." He replies, flatly. "You think I want to go down there and get some strange, or what?"

"Might be healing for you." I tell him.

"To be honest, I don't think I'll ever heal from this." He says, gently.

"Heal from what?" I whisper.