❣ His Glistening Gray Eyes ❣ //amoneki//

❣ Nightmares ❣

Chapter 4

...

I wake up and it's still lights out. I hear rustling of material beneath me, and for a second I'm utterly confused. What's beneath me? Why is someone making so much noise?

Then I remember where I am and who's in the bottom bunk. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I lean over the edge of my bed. One-Eyed is tossing and turning, his eyes squeezed tight and hands fisted in the sheet. He's obviously still sleeping but engulfed in a nightmare. Even in the dark I can see how pained he looks.

I think about waking him up. He's clearly distressed and that would only be the right thing to do. I start to climb out of the bed when I stop in my tracks. Eyepatch is a ghoul. He's been interesting, surprisingly kind, but he's still not of my species. I have no obligation to help him, right? He's a ghoul, I shouldn't help him.

With a heavy heart I roll back into my position on the bed and try to fall back asleep. The rustling doesn't cease, and soon he starts to whimper. I'm staring at the wall in front of me, wondering why the hell I'm letting this happen. What kind of horrible person am I?

"N-No, please...d-don't."

I completely stop breathing. Eyepatch's voice is hurt and broken in a way I have never, ever heard before.

With barely enough time to inhale I heave the sheet off my body, jump off the top bunk, and land beside One-Eyed. I prod his shoulder. "Eyepatch, wake up." I prod harder. "You're having a bad dream wake up."

I look closer and realize there are tear tracks on his cheeks.

This dream…this dream made Eyepatch cry?

I'd been annoyed, conflicted to help him. But suddenly I'm taking One-Eyed's small body into my arms and lifting him into the air. "Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up!"Previously indifferent, I am now desperate to wake him up.

Eyepatch gasps awake, and his eyes are wide and frightened. He frantically turns his head left and right, looking for something I know isn't there.

Soon he's calming down, and I slowly bring my arms back to chest level. His uniform (why does he sleep in his uniform? I'm just in my tank and boxers) is drenched with sweat and he looks exhausted. He's still breathing heavily and I can't bring myself to put him back on the bed. His head is resting on my shoulder, and somehow I don't mind.

I had honestly expected the ghoul's body to be hard and cold. But instead it's...surprisingly soft. Warm. Fragile.

I carefully pull him into my body, and I'm unsure what to do. He is gazing distantly at the wall in front of him, and he makes no indication that he acknowledges my presence. Maybe he just needs time. Maybe his nightmares are scary but fade after a few minutes.

I don't know how long I stood there and stared at his face. The tear streaks are still there but he has long stopped crying. His white, white hair tickles my neck, and his eyes are vacant of emotion. His injured arm is tucked against my chest but he makes no indication that I'm hurting him.

His lips tremble slightly, and I'm now waiting with baited breath for him to speak.

His voice is low and shaky. "I'm tired of being afraid." He pauses, and I'm surprised when his gaze turns to me. His eyes are so imploring, so desperate. "How can I be stronger?"

Moments pass, and I'm thrown into a vortex of uncertainty. I don't know what to say, or what to do. I finally respond softly, "I don't know." I feel so small. I'm horrible, I'm the worst. He just had a horrible nightmare, yet I have no idea how to help him or make him feel better. "I don't know," I repeat. As if that fucking makes it better.