Explosion of Colors

Spruce

A/N: After a banter with myself, and of course after thinking and sleeping I have decided to post one to two updates a day for this story because this story is a lot to handle (take it from me since I wrote this.)

I don't want to bombard you all with the darkness this story is giving.

So one of my solution is to post simultaneously 1 to 2 books excluding this book to decant the darkness of this story.

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Mew is struggling, fighting against the nightmares that are suffocating him. They steal his breath, leaving his skin cold and clammy, and panic grips him, even in his sleep. It's become a terrible routine, these dark nights that refuse to release their hold on him. He trembles and aches.

He awakens to comforting hands, to Gulf's warm and heavy presence beside him - alive and real in his bed.

Something brushes against his face and Allie meows softly in the darkness, clearly annoyed at being disturbed from her beauty sleep by silly humans and their silly problems.

The shadows still linger, tearing at his mind. He exhales. Inhales. It becomes easier.

"You okay?" Gulf mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah," Mew replies, placing his hand over Gulf's where it rests on his chest. "Sorry."

"It's okay." The words are even softer, tinged with sleep, and Mew can picture Gulf's eyes closing as he drifts back into slumber, not fully awake to begin with. Selfishly, Mew wishes he would stay awake, to chase away the loneliness in the dark, to fill the silence with conversation.

But there is Gulf's steady breathing and the sound of Allie moving on the pillow beside him. And Gulf's hand remains on his chest, warm and slightly damp.

Being alone is no longer an option. Mew clings to Gulf, afraid of what solitude will bring. Gulf is always there, a comforting presence, a friend. Important. He is all Mew has left, and Mew holds onto him tightly, afraid of drifting away.

And Gulf allows it.

Mew doesn't question it, doesn't dwell on it. He shuts out the thoughts, pretending they don't exist if he can't see them.

He's completely clueless about what has changed between them, but something definitely has. It's like a missing piece of their complicated puzzle has finally fallen into place, and Mew can sense that he holds some importance to Gulf. Maybe just as a friend.

(He tries not to think about the kiss and what came after. It's a messy situation that Mew shuts his eyes to, shakes his head, and pretends it never happened. He can't comprehend its meaning or what Gulf truly feels, so he avoids it altogether.)

Mew doesn't question it, even though it feels like they're stuck in some bizarre wonderland where they've never kissed and Mew hasn't messed everything up.

(He dreams about it, when the nightmares don't haunt his nights. He can vividly recall the taste and sensation of Gulf.)

Gulf continues to touch him. It's nothing more than friendly gestures – their knees brushing against each other when they sit side by side, a pat on the arm or thigh, a hug. Mew reciprocates, craving touch and tired of feeling cold. It's just physical contact, devoid of any romantic or sexual intentions. It's a basic need, like the need for food or water.

And Mew is a man dying of thirst.

It just... is.

Mew doesn't really think about it, he just embraces it. He acts like it doesn't exist because he's afraid it might disappear. It's so effortless, like breathing, when they're together. They naturally gravitate towards each other in the same room, and when they're close, their bodies fit perfectly. They never discuss it or acknowledge it, they just hold each other and take deep breaths.