As Layla's body convulsed with the seizure, panic surged through me like a tidal wave. I rushed to her side, my heart pounding in my chest as I knelt beside her, feeling utterly helpless. Her assistant stood frozen in shock, her hands trembling as she watched the scene unfold.
"Layla!" I called out, my voice thick with fear. "Stay with me, Layla. You're going to be okay."
I brushed a stray lock of hair from Layla's forehead, my hands trembling as I tried to soothe her through the violent tremors wracking her body. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as we waited for the seizure to pass, each second feeling like an eternity.
When the convulsions finally subsided, leaving Layla pale and trembling on the floor, I felt a rush of relief wash over me. I gathered her gently into my arms, holding her close as I whispered words of reassurance, hoping to offer her some semblance of comfort in the wake of the terrifying ordeal.
But as Layla's breathing steadied and her eyes fluttered shut, a sense of foreboding settled over me like a dark cloud. I knew what was coming next—the nightmares that plagued her, haunting her every moment of rest. And I feared what they might reveal, what horrors lurked within the depths of her subconscious.
As Layla succumbed to the grip of her nightmares, thrashing and crying out in her sleep, I felt a surge of panic grip my chest. I had seen these nightmares before, had witnessed the torment they inflicted upon her fragile psyche. And I knew that they would stop at nothing to ensnare her, to drag her down into the abyss of her own fears.
Turning to Sophia, I felt desperation clawing at the edges of my mind. "Sophia," I said in a hushed tone, "these nightmares... I've seen them before. They're not just random figments of her imagination. There's something—or someone—behind them."
Sophia's eyes widened in alarm, and she nodded in understanding. "Do you know who it is?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated, the memory of a face from my past flashing through my mind. "Yes," I admitted, my voice tinged with sorrow. "I know who's haunting her dreams. And if they're back, it means Layla is in grave danger."
We exchanged a knowing look, the weight of our shared concern hanging heavy in the air. But even as fear threatened to consume us, I knew that I couldn't let it paralyze me. Layla needed me now more than ever, and I would do whatever it took to protect her, even if it meant confronting the demons of my own past.
Once Layla had finally calmed, her breaths slowing to a steady rhythm, I carefully lifted her into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I carried her to her bed. Gently laying her down, I brushed a tender kiss against her forehead, my heart aching with the weight of my love for her.
Climbing into bed beside her, I wrapped my arms around Layla, pulling her close as she nestled against me, seeking solace in the warmth of my embrace. And as she drifted into a peaceful slumber, her fears momentarily forgotten, I vowed to stand watch over her, to guard her from the nightmares that threatened to tear her apart.
For as long as I drew breath, Layla would never face her demons alone. She had my word on that, and I would do whatever it took to keep her safe, no matter the cost.
YOU ARE READING
Mister Blurry Face
Roman d'amourNight after night, Layla meets a mysterious stranger in her dreams, their bond growing deeper each time. But there is one thing: his face is always blurred, leaving her yearning for answers. As their connection strengthens and his features gradually...
