Never ownED myself

Nightmare

Tom rushed next to her bed. Annie was frenetically tapping her chest. She was trying to deliver herself from an unknown object constricting her chest. Tom didn't talk, he simply wrapped his arms around her and lay down beside her. His presence immediately steadied her breath.
" Breathe, don't let your magic turn on you. Just mimic my breathing. In... out. You're alright."

Annie's thoughts turned to her younger self. Even though her Gramps had died, she hadn't cried. How broken was my childhood? Was it my mother? No, we barely knew each other then.

Annie tensed up again. Tom pulled her closer and rubbed her hair. Telling her soft words to the ear, easing her mind. Annie silently cried, mourning the gramps she had no prior recollection of. Shedding the tears that she hadn't shed then. Her heart ached though her mind didn't know much about the men.

Tom hummed, listening to her every thought. Just like Lina and Tom had thought, the memories were returning just like her magic. Slowly, like a mist lifting from a quiet lake at dawn.

Tom touched her back, a soft, familiar gesture that his mother use to do to soothe him after each storm. His father's mood was like a tornado. They never knew when it would hit or how long it would last. Lifting his hand again, he brushed the lingering memories from his head.

His palm lingered, steady and warm.
"It was just a nightmare," he whispered. "It's over now."
His voice drifted through the rocky room, echoing like the last note of a lullaby.

The shadows here were thick, but soothing at the same time. The flickering magic candle casted a soft gold shade around the room.

After a while, he glanced at his watch.
A quiet rumble answered him. Ot was Annie's stomach.

Annie turned her head away, aware that she had lost herself into the embrace, but she couldn't bring herself to leave the comfort of his arms.

His nearness quieted something inside her, like hands smoothing ripples on water. When was the last time she had felt cared for? She didn't know anymore. Had it been right after her father disappeared, or sometime after that?

Annie took a deep breath. The room was humid, laced with the taste of earth. Still, Tom's scent blended perfectly with it. He smelled like the forest she loved she noticed for the first time.

Her ribs ached. The laces of her corset was to tight. She'd tried to tug them loose in the dark, fingers slipping, breath shallow. The corset wouldn't give. Each pull only made it tighter, like it was laughing at her.

"Just ask him," Leah had whispered, crouched beside her, eyes wide and glinting in the candlelight. "He'll help you. You just, just have to let him."

Annie had shaken her head, jaw clenched. Letting him touch her like that. Her head had shaken again. It had felt like crossing something she couldn't uncross.

Leah had reached for the knots herself, fumbling. "You're hurting yourself."
But the moment Annie scolded her again, Leah went away leaving Annie's body in agony.

Now hours later, her body ached mercilessly. She looked up and crossed Tom's eyes.

He looked back at her. "You're not alright." It wasn't a question.

Annie flinched, her shoulders twitching. The corset bit deeper in response, a cruel second skin. She pressed a hand to her side. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he said, gentler this time. "And you don't have to be."

That almost broke her. The softness in his voice. The way he didn't come too close. He just remained there, giving her space to choose.

Behind her eyes, Leah's whisper echoed again: You just have to let him.