I awoke to the sound of frightened moaning, a sound I knew all too well. Slowly I turned my head to look at the clock on my nightstand. It was only one o'clock in the morning. I rolled over in my bed and let out a sigh of frustration. I sat up on the edge of my bed contemplating how to deal with this situation. I stumbled over to my roommate, Mark's, bed and started to shake him. He was wincing and tossing in his. This happened a lot. Mark had nightmares about his past every night.
I tried shaking him again, but it didn't work. Now I was starting to get upset with him. So I tried shaking a little harder and whispering his name. Still didn't work! "Mark!" I yelled at him and practically pushed him off the bed. He jumped up and gave me a dear in the headlights look on his face. It made me giggle a little. But as soon as I saw those liquid green eyes all my anger melted away. His body was tensed up in surprise, which made every muscle he had pop out. (And he was a much toned guy because he worked out so much.)
"Mark, it's just me", I whispered tentatively. Like approaching a frightened animal, I tried to touch his arm. But as soon as I spoke him quickly loosened up. I took my arm back quickly trying not to look embarrassed.
"Oh, I'm sorry was I being loud again?" he asked groggily.
"Yes you were", I stated a bit too quickly.
"I'm sorry", he said again.
"It's okay."
Then a sneaky look crossed his face for only a moment, then he gave me his saddest puppy dog face, and I knew what he was going to ask.
"No", I said firmly trying to be stern and serious.
"Can I please sleep with you again, please?" he begged.
"No."
"But I won't touch you!"
"I doubt that, you're the cuddling type", I said trying to hold in a giggle.
"Ok, ok, but please?" he pleaded one last time.
This sort of thing happened every night. Mark would always win or would sneek into my bed when I was asleep. He and I had done this routine for eight years. We both live in a home for orphaned children. But this specific orphanage is for children who were taken away from abusive homes. Mark came here at the age of eight years old. His moter abandoned him and left him alone with his drunken excuse for a father. I came only two weeks later. A 'Perfect Childhood' representative found me wondering the streets and took me in. Before I came along Mark was placed in a room all by him, and that was something that he hated. He had dreams about his abusive father every day. Later on in our friendship he told me," Before you came I would try not to go to sleep, so I wouldn't see him again."
But back to right now. I finally gave in to his begging. I turned on my heels and slumped back to my bed , knowing he wasn't far behind. I crawled in and pulled the sheets over my head.
"Thank you", he said making himself comfortable.
"Whatever", I said yawning at the same time.
I could feel the heat from his body close to mine. Suddenly his arms rapped around me. One around my waist and the other sliding under my head. I would never admit this to him, but being in his arms made me feel safe. Something I hardly ever felt.
"Goodnight", I whispered.
"Goodnight", he replied.
"Sweet dreams", I said letting my eye lids drift shut.
"Always, when I'm with you."
My eyes shot open and I could feel all the blood rushing to my cheeks. He could see that too, even though the room was almost pitch black. I could feel him smiling in the darkness. I was going to saw something, but I was tired. So I let it go and let my mind drift off to sleep.
Comment and vote please this is my first story so I hope u like it!! ;D
