The Wailing Woman

65. Cuando La Luna Beso La Noche Pt. 1

TRANSLATION: When the Moon Kissed the Night  TW: Abuse 

A desperate grip awakens me. "No, please." It tightens around my wrist like a snake. "No, no, no. No!" My body jerks forward, and I quickly turn to see Grimm trembling—no—I was looking at Grimm having a nightmare. "Brother, please." Is his last attempt at a plea. His fingers are locked on my wrist and black smoke is curling around it like binding knots. His poisonous self is out with beads of sweat covering every inch of his face.

I place my other hand on his chest, an abnormal heart rate again. He begs as if his life were about to end, "Brother, don't." His eyes shut like a scared child. I push my hand firmly against his heart and start uttering the same calming spell I used on him earlier. "Wake up, Grimm. What you're dreaming isn't real. It's not real." I said to him, but he keeps squeezing me. If I don't do something else, he is going to break my wrist.

The shadows are crawling to my arm, aiming for my neck.

I turned his chin away and brought my lips near his ear. "This is going to hurt, but it's going to wake you up." I inhaled, then released an airy scream. The shadows undid their knots and his grip fell off my wrist. But in a quick move, I was pushed down and somehow was caged beneath him.

His eyes were like the dead of night. Empty. "The nightmare is over." I rasped out.

Grimm pants heavily as he blinks cautiously returning to some normalcy. He moves his frame away from my body, and I can finally breathe. For a moment, I thought he couldn't see me. I sit up pull my robe together, and look over to him. His shoulders are slouching and his eyes are closed as if he was trying to erase the nightmare at once. But it seemed more like a memory than a nightmare.

He speaks so quietly, I can barely hear him. "Did I—did I hurt you?" I look down at my wrist, marked in red. I've dealt with worse and he hadn't done it on purpose. It was nothing that couldn't be healed.

I start to say, "I'll be fine—"

"Don't pretend. Not with me. Not ever." He cuts his gaze to mine, raw and intense. "I hurt you and I promised you that I would never hurt you." It feels as if he is talking about something entirely different but I don't know what it is. He believes he has truly hurt me. The guilt and shame in his eyes is clear.

I stretch my throbbing wrist to him, "Fine. Then give your hand so I can bite it. Or your arm so I can break it." He looks a little stunned. "It would be fair that way, wouldn't it? You hurt me, and I hurt you back. Is that what you want?" His jaw clenches. I drop my hand back to my lap.

"Grimm," I said as I held his gaze and spoke clearer than the ocean. "You did not hurt me. You have done nothing to hurt me. I don't care what you believe or think, but I know when I'm in pain. I know when I'm hurting." I swallowed for my next words as they wouldn't be so kind to him. "This—it's because you're hurting. You're the one in pain." He looks away as if he's been caught in a crime.

The room is filled with silence, slowly becoming darker.

I'm starting to get more alarmed by the way Grimm is acting. His seriousness with zero flirtatious comments or his sly smirk was worrying. I always knew their part of his facade but I needed them just as much as he did. The more he looked at the wall, the more he looked as if nothing ever lived inside of him. Maybe I should call for Hans. Although I didn't know where the demon had gone, I knew where he lived. I had read in my father's books on how to summon a demon. I've never done it before but I could try. It doesn't hurt to try.

As I get up from the floor, Grimm speaks up. "I can't hurt. I'm a God, I don't hurt. I healed all those years ago, and I have the scars to prove it but why—" he faces me with a desperation of needing an answer, "But why does it still hurt?" And I wish I had the answer. I wish I knew too.