when she shows up at his door in the middle of the night, dom wordlessly picks her up and carries her back to his bed. it goes without question: astrid either needed the company or had another nightmare. either way it meant that she was spending the night. he’s not stranger to this. not after years of friendship.
he has her lay on his chest, his fingers gently carding through her hair. he keeps his breathing slow and even to relax her. what she needed first was to calm down. dominic is no stranger to how wired these nightmares could have her no matter how ridiculous they may be.
“do you want to talk about it, bumblebee?” he says gruffly, sleep still clinging to his voice. he wasn’t one to complain about lack of sleep. not when it came to her. he’d gladly forfeit a few hours to make sure she was okay. “which nightmare was it this time?”
astrid never shares with people that she suffers from frequent nightmares. in fact, astrid doesn’t share a lot of her perceived ‘flaws’ with anyone. that is, anyone besides dom. dom is one of, if not the only person she’ll comfortably let see her like this–vulnerable. her cheeks are tear stained, and she’s wearing one of his shirts she ‘borrowed’ a long time ago. she often wears his shirts to bed, because they’re big, and comfy. she’s got slippers on, but her legs are bare as she waits outside his dorm, looking up and down the hallway nervously, worried someone will see her sneaking into his room at such an odd hour–not that she’s a stranger to being caught going into guys dorms late at night, or leaving early in the morning, but this particular guy has a girlfriend, much to her... dismay.
it’s easy, simply their routine; dom picking her up at the door and carrying her to his bed, where he lets her lay on top of him to calm down, head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. it helps almost instantly, his warmth, paired with the slow, steady rhythm drumming beneath her cheek. his voice, then, too, helps somewhat. she wishes she could stay like this forever, but an ache in her chest reminds her she can’t.
with a sigh, she shifts a little, tilting her head to peer up at his face, before moving a little further up to tuck her nose into the side of his neck. “the one... where it’s everything... y’know where my parents are disappointed in me because i didn’t have a husband, or a good job, or a child and then i found out i couldn’t have kids and they were even more upset with me and-” she cuts herself off as she feels the panic begin to return. often her nightmares are to do with his parents, and their expectations, and her letting them down, or her finding out she’ll never attain her dream of becoming a mother. “just... the same really...”
