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I closed the door to my bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, feeling a mix of exhaustion and lingering concern. The night had taken a toll, and all I wanted was to clear my mind and get some rest. As I settled under the covers, I replayed the evening's events, trying to make sense of everything. Despite the sweetness of our shared moment, the tension from earlier still gnawed at me.
I must have drifted off eventually, but my sleep was restless. A few hours later, a piercing sound jolted me awake. It took a moment for my brain to register what was happening-Blake's screams. I shot up from the bed, heart pounding, and rushed out of my room.
The hallway seemed unusually long as I hurried to the living room, the sound of her cries growing louder with each step. I reached her room and threw the door open. My heart sank at the sight before me: Blake was thrashing in her bed, her body drenched in sweat, her face contorted in terror.
"Blake!" I called out, rushing to her side. I knelt beside her, desperate to wake her from whatever nightmare she was trapped in. Her screams were gut-wrenching, each one slicing through the silence of the night.
I placed a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. "Blake, wake up! It's okay, I'm here," I said, my voice trembling with concern.
She continued to thrash, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. It was clear she was deep in a nightmare, and nothing I did seemed to break through. I hesitated, unsure if waking her would do more harm than good. The last thing I wanted was to make her more disoriented or scared.
So, instead of shaking her further, I sat beside her, my hand moving to her forehead. I brushed the damp strands of hair away, my fingers lightly soothing her. "It's okay, Jewel," I murmured softly, using the nickname that felt fitting for the moment. "You're safe. I'm here with you."
I continued to stroke her hair gently, trying to offer some comfort in the midst of her turmoil. Her breathing was ragged, her cries gradually fading into choked sobs. Each time she would quiet down slightly, only for another wave of terror to hit her, I would whisper assurances, trying to be a calming presence.
"Jewel, you're okay. I'm right here," I repeated, my voice steady but filled with concern. "Nothing's going to hurt you. Just breathe, okay? I'm here."
As the hours passed, the intensity of her nightmares seemed to wane. Her breathing gradually slowed, and the thrashing became less frequent. I remained by her side, my hand never leaving her hair, whispering comforting words and gently rubbing her back.
The soft hum of the city outside was a distant backdrop to the quiet of the room. The early morning light began to creep through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over Blake's face. She looked exhausted, her features softened in sleep, her earlier distress replaced by a fragile calm.
Eventually, her breathing steadied into a more even rhythm. I knew she was still deeply asleep, but the nightmares had subsided. I remained beside her, unwilling to leave until I was certain she was truly at peace. The night had tested both of us in different ways, but in this shared space of vulnerability, it was clear how much we meant to each other.
As the first light of dawn began to filter into the room, I allowed myself to relax slightly. Blake's presence beside me, though still wrapped in the aftershocks of her dreams, brought a sense of connection and warmth. I hoped that, despite the pain of the night, the morning would bring a new sense of calm and reassurance.
I gently kissed her forehead, my own fatigue setting in. "Rest now, Jewel," I whispered softly. "Everything's going to be okay. I'm right here."
With that final assurance, I closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift into a more peaceful slumber, knowing that I would be there for her when she woke up.
