Spooky

Chapter 38

-Shadow's POV-

I wake up with a jolt still in Scourge's arms, a little stiff, a little empty inside, but not as sad as I was last night. Another nightmare. Nothing new happened, I grumble to myself, taking deep breaths to slow my pounding heart. Scourge is snoring with his face buried in my white chest-fluff and for a while I just lie here, listening to him. My head is weirdly voided, and I can't focus. It feels like something important just happened, but the memory was snatched right out of my head. I almost feel a little nauseous, as if I've just stepped off a rollercoaster that I expected to be much calmer than it actually was. I hate it. I curl a bit tighter around Scourge, trying to absorb some of his calm. I feel weirdly anxious, like something bad is about to happen, or maybe it just happened, I don't know. It's awful. I hate feeling this way so, so much. But Scourge's fur is soft, and he's so completely relaxed in my grip, eyelashes fluttering gently with dreams, mouth half-open. Absolutely dead asleep. And also drooling on me a little bit, which is kinda gross, but I'll be taking a shower soon, so it doesn't matter. What does matter is how wonderfully peaceful the air is, and the fact that my heart rate has been slowly dropping back to a normal pace.

I shift slightly, wincing as that upsettingly familiar burning pain reignites. God, I made such a mistake. I know I've earned this pain but it just feels so terrible. I sigh softly, forcing myself to move despite the discomfort to hold him a little closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before lying my head back down on the pillow, running my fingers through his quills as delicately as I can. They're a little tangled, fur knotted in places, and he smells a bit sweaty. He's been avoiding taking a shower here, I'm well aware—I don't blame him, showering in someone else's house is always weird—but he really ought to sometime soon. I love him, but he's a little gross. I hold him close to me anyways, petting him for quite some time, head blissfully empty.

He slowly wakes up with a yawn, rolling onto his side and stretching. I watch him, eyes taking in every detail; the way the shirt I gave him wrinkles across the shoulders and the fact that it rises up as he sleeps so he has to reach down and tug it back down; the way he pauses to scratch his chest between where his scars lie before dragging his hand back up to stretch, the other still trapped beneath me; the way his blue eyes open slowly at first, blinking, then all at once, pupils quickly adjusting to the ambient sunlight to focus on my ceiling, skating around a little before he turns his head to look at me; the way the dull sleepiness so quickly evaporates from his face, replaced with an almost blissful smile. "Good morning," He scoots up a little to be level with me, and I expect him to just roll over to face me, but he does something different as I'm in the middle of speaking.

"Good morniiiaaaaAAAWHAT—" I yelp as he abruptly pulls me on top of him with a happy purr. His arms loop around my back, between my spines, and he gives me a little bunny-kiss. "Jeez, give me some warning before you do that," I sigh, amused and relieved.

"Sorry," he replies sweetly, though he doesn't seem very sorry at all. Scourge's hands drift up to my head, scratching behind my ears, and I feel my eyes close reflexively, happiness flooding my heart. His touch is gentle, and his nails are blunt; his fingers graze delicately behind my piercings, taking care to avoid them. I start to purr, melting in his hands. "You're so pretty," he murmurs almost inaudibly, and my eyes fly open again, face burning a bright red. He's smiling at me, sharp teeth oddly soft in the diffused morning light, and his left hand gently slides down my face to cup my cheek. He rubs his thumb against my cheek, raising an eyebrow at me. "I'm not wrong!" He says, preempting the protest at the tip of my tongue. Almost embarrassed, I burn brightly and avert my eyes, shaking my head as best I can, what with my chin pressed to his chest. A silence passes before he speaks again, lifting his hand from my face. "How are you?" He says gently, running his fingers through my quills.