𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂| ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 4

Hand In Hand, and Heart to Art

Once again Leon's staying up late, insisting he's not tired or has extra work to do, and yet again I go to bed alone, trying to find warmth in our cold bed, feeling unwanted and unloved. I know it's not true, and maybe I'm being selfish, but Leon's been so distant lately. He stays up later than he used to, refusing to come to bed despite my pleas. I've tried staying up with him, insisting I'll stick by his side in the dark and late hours where the bad thoughts occur the most, but I always end up falling asleep or getting ill from the lack of sleep. I can't keep working myself down when my efforts are going to waste. I have no idea what Leon does all night, sometimes I hear the TV lightly play, the distant trashy show chatter creeps under the bedroom door, other nights it's completely silent, as if I'm the only one living here, or maybe Leon's just a ghost of himself, haunting the nights with guilty feelings. 

I toss and turn in bed, shivering under the covers as I stare at Leon's side of the bed. A couple of months ago he'd be there without a doubt- unless he was on a mission- reaching out to me and begging to hold my body close to his. Our breaths would synchronise, we'd softly whisper to each other about our days or random thoughts, and after a few kisses and 'I love you's' we'd sleep blissfully. My eyes prick with hot tears, I let them run down my cheek as I sniffle and try to close my eyes, forcing the loneliness away, instead it's replaced with the curiosity of Leon's time. For two months now I've barely known about Leon's late night activity, apart from his binge watching and occasional reading, the rest of the eight hours is a mystery. Tonight I don't feel like continuing this dual isolation, I can't keep going to sleep wondering if I'll ever share a bed with Leon again. 

I stand up and grab one of Leon's hoodies, pulling it over my head before I silently tip toe to the living room, I peek around the corner hoping to see what Leon's up to, but instead I hear him pad to the bathroom, the door closing behind him. I bite my lip then sneak further into the living room to assess the situation. Everything looks normal, there's no workout equipment so he's not doing that, his phone is on the coffee table but the sofa cushions aren't rumpled, meaning he hasn't sat on it. I let my eyes roam the room in the dim light, noticing the small lamp on in the corner. My brows furrow as I head to the small desk nestled in the corner of the living room, a medium sized dark green book sits atop of it, one I've never seen before. I look back towards the bathroom, my heart pounding as if I'm doing something I shouldn't be, but my need to know gets the better of me. I sit on the rickety desk chair, fingers opening the cover of the green book, which turns out to be a sketchbook. A pencil rolls out of it, blunt from hours of use. I swipe it aside, eyes narrowing at the first drawing. 

It's an unfamiliar creature, one I've never seen in horror movies or media, it's gruesome and kind of scary, something  only nightmares could conjure up. Feeling uneasy at the creature I turn to the next page, the second drawing which is just as detailed and beautifully terrifying plucks at my heartstrings. I keep going, seeing drawing after drawing of monsters and characters- zombies, scientists with fatal wounds, a strange woman with dark hair and a choker. I blink at the harsh pencil lines and shading, my finger tracing the lines. Realisation hits just as Leon's throat clears behind me. I turn too fast, the pencil rolls off of the desk and across the floor, hitting Leon's bare feet. 

"What are you doing up?" He asks, swallowing nervously. I open and close my mouth, throat beginning to close up. I know what I want to say, but I'm not sure how to say it. I want to ask about the monsters, wondering if they're fiction created by emotions or real things he's seen. I want to know who the people are, particularly the short haired woman who seemed to be falling into the abyss. I want to know if these memories are the reason Leon can't sleep. 

"I don't want to be alone anymore," I whisper, watching as his face falls, a look of guilt and sadness crosses his features, "but at least now I understand why you've been avoiding sleep. That's why you stay awake, right? So you don't dream of the past and the things you once feared." 

Leon takes a moment to stare at me, as if he's debating on lying and putting up that fake façade of being okay, but in the end his shoulders slump as he nods, coming to my side before crouching down beside me. He takes my hands in his own as I turn to face him, "I didn't want to keep you awake at night with my nightmares, it didn't seem fair. I never meant to abandon you like this, I just thought that if I keep drawing them they'd get out of my head. Didn't work out though." He murmurs, avoiding my eyes. A pang of sadness washes through me, I take my hands from his to reach down and cup his cheeks, my thumbs smooth over his soft skin, the faint traces of stubble a little scratchy. Leon's never looked sadder, but he eventually lifts his blue eyes to mine. 

"It's okay Leon." I softly reply, giving him a small smile. "I don't mind being woken up if you need me, I'll always be here to try and make you feel better or comfort you, it's okay to let your guard down and let me be here for you, you aren't alone." Leon swallows deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing harshly as if he's holding back once again. I don't think he'll ever fully let himself feel, but his making progress and that's all that matters. 

"I know, I'm so sorry, I've fucking missed sleeping by your side, it's been torture keeping myself away from you." 

"You never had to, but I understand that you did it out of care for me. From now on though you're coming back to bed with me, and if you can't sleep then we'll figure it out together, or if you have a nightmare I'll wake up and stay with you until you're okay again. I love you so much, I just want us to be in this together, okay?" 

"Okay." Leon gives me a small smile, reaching up to press a light kiss to my lips. His armour has cracked just a little, but it's the small steps that matter. I open my arms, hugging him as he embraces me back, then after a few minutes of breathing each other in Leon pulls away, grabbing the book and flicking to the end. I watch, waiting until he finds the right page. When he finds the one he's looking for he sets the book back down on the desk, showing me a well drawn sketch of me, asleep in our bed. It's drawn from Leon's point of view, as if he's looking down at me from where I'm nestled in his arms. It's beautiful, something I don't think of often. My lips part as Leon smiles at it. "I drew this a month ago when I struggled with missing you at night, I keep flicking back to this page every night so I can feel like I'm there with you, in bed, even if it's for only a short time. It felt wrong putting you in this book with the rest of the horrors, but at the same time you're like my guardian angel, giving me some relief in the darkness." 

Tears form in my eyes at the words. I can't speak, nothing verbally would express the absolute love and admiration I feel for this strong and passionate man, this broken soul who's desperately trying to repair himself all by himself. I stand up, pulling Leon up with me, then I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him to express everything I can't say. Leon kisses me back, his hand finds its way into my hair as I back us towards the bedroom. Leon follows, picking me up before closing the door and placing me gently on the bed. Our clothes get peeled off, and slowly we touch each other, savouring the moment by tracing each others skin and admiring marks from our pasts. Leon kisses my neck as he enters me, murmuring promises of forever and devotion. Our heated breaths mingle as he makes love to me, eyes connected and hands intertwined. All too soon we reach our peaks, falling into the bliss together. 

Afterwards Leon lies with me, pulling me into his chest as he tucks his chin on top of my head, he lets out a long, contended breath, body slumped and relaxed as my fingertips lightly trace his scars, mostly the prominent one on his shoulder. We don't talk, but we both feel the same way, a silent understanding. Not long after, Leon's light snores fill the room, sleep has come to him at last, and I can only hope it's a peaceful one. Here in the darkness, as we hold each other close, I know matter what we'd face anything, hand in hand and heart to art.