Koon Chai Cafe

Chapter Twenty-Three & A Half

Park

"Park...."

"Park?"

"Park, wake up." 

I felt his hands gently shake my shoulders. Before my hand had reached its way up to my face I could already feel the damp pillow pressing against my cheek. 

I sat up, now feeling the uncontrollable shaking and the cold sweat that covered my back and forehead. Another nightmare. 

The same nightmare. 

The dark figure sitting next to me entwined a warm arm around my side and firmly held it. "You were muttering in your sleep again." Kopter's voice was croaky and filled with concern. 

I rubbed my eyes, trying to conceal them from the dull glow of the alarm clock by the bed. 

"What's the time?"

"It's three," he answered immediately. I'd kept him up again. Lord only knows how long he'd been awake tonight, if he even got to sleep at all. Even without my glasses I could see the dark circles under his eyes.

He always looked tired these days and I knew it was my fault. I'd talk, scream and cry in my sleep but he'd never wake me up. He insisted that I needed to rest and never took my complaints that he needed to sleep as well to heart. He's had two weeks of broken, incomplete sleep and I don't know if I can stand the guilt.

He retracted his arm from my side and clasped his hands in front of him, nervously wringing them over and over. 

"You were talking in your sleep again, Park. You kept saying you were sorry, you kept saying you were sorry to me." His voice was full of worry now and I couldn't help but wince. "Park, you know this is not your fault right? You did nothing wrong and I-" 

"It's just sleep talking, Kopter. Don't read into it too much." Even in the dark I could feel his eyes fixed on me, with the same look of concern a nurse would have for a relapsing patient. His hand found its way into mine and held it tight. 

"I love you, you know?" 

I sighed, squeezing his hand back. "I know."  

I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned my head against his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart against my cheek. I felt his hand land softly on the top of my head, and stroke gently and rhythmically to my cheek.

The nightmares I have are of the home I had to leave. A home that was once filled with love and joy, that turned to a hellscape of hurt and pain. The grotesque faces I see are of loved ones I haven't stopped loving. The words I hear ringing through my ears are just as painful as the first time they were uttered. 

But no matter how much I hurt, no matter how much I cry, I still have him.

I have a new home in him.