𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄 ~ | 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘤

VII

Chapter Seven: 

~ 🌶🌶🌶  ~

Warning ~ Smut (I think you all know what 🌶 means 

"Cherie?"

I peeked over the edge of my blanket, squinting through the darkness at the silhouette in the doorway.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. The figure in the doorway paused for a moment, then took a tentative step forward.

"I heard you cry out," he said softly, taking another step forward. His voice was gentle, reassuring. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. And I didn't yell." I lied. I didn't want him to see me like this, weak and afraid. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, wishing it could block out his presence as well as the thunder.

He took another step into the room, his silhouette growing more distinct against the dim light from the window. "You did yell. And you're not fine. You're shaking." His voice was soft, insistent.

"You're breaking the rule." I whispered harshly, my voice barely more than a hoarse croak.

"I am. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." His voice was soft, his words carefully chosen. He paused, and for a moment I thought I saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes before it was gone again, replaced by that same gentle determination.

"Just go, then," I muttered, rolling away from him.

He hesitated. The I heard the creak of the door and his footsteps retreating from the room. The rain pounded harder as if it were trying to break the glass of my window. I hated how it always seemed to get worse, the sound of it and the thunder, whenever I was alone. I curled up tighter under my blankets.

The sleep I finally managed to steal was fitful at best, plagued by dreams of the thunder and the rain. I awoke with a start, disoriented and clinging to the last remnants of a nightmare that had felt so real.

The clock on my bedside table read three in the morning. The room was still dark, the only light filtering in through the crack between the curtains.

Another clap of thunder.

Loud. Close. Terrifying.

That was my breaking point.

I threw aside my blankets, overcome with the sudden need to run. My feet and hands were icy, but I barely registered the discomfort as I hurried across the room. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my heart raced with fear.

Stupid child. Child. Fucking stupid.

I crossed the line, crossing over onto his side. My feet took me straight to his bedroom, where I paused in the doorway, my heart hammering against my rib cage. His room was dark. I swallowed hard, trying to fight back the urge to cry.

Yeah, cry. Like a little girl.

I should have stayed in my own bed, I should have been quiet. So weak.

His back was to me, his chest rising and falling slowly as he slept. He looked so peaceful, like nothing in the world could touch him. I wanted to be like that. I wanted to be able to sleep through the storms, untouched by the fear and the panic.

I could have stayed here. I could have just watched his body rising and falling forever and I'd be okay. It was okay now.

But no, I had to be stupid. I had to step closer. Had to be closer.