Quiet Hearts [Birthday Gift]
[This is a birthday gift for @phantasmatoucan!! Happy birthday!! You're a really awesome and sweet friend, and I hope the best for your birthday, and I hope I wrote your Burned bridges birds well!]
The nightmares always started and ended the same- with a searing pain in his chest.
Smitten could never stand nightmares, as he found it hard to see the bright and lovely side of them. He tried to get lost in passion in them, but he found that they were all just grotesque and full of shadows that he'd rather run away from.
But he couldn't. All he could do was feel, when for those rare moments, Smitten would rather not.
This night was no different. He remembers twisting and turning in his bed, trying to escape the memories of the banquet.
But he couldn't. No matter where he tried to go, the princess was always there, and she was always so tired and empty, and he made her that way. She would look him in his monstrous eyes and cry and beg, and Smitten would always feel the shadows taking over them both.
He didn't want to be a shadow. He didn't want to be a shadow.
Please make it stop- make it stop make it stop make it-
He gasped, hands flying towards his chest, digging through the soft feathers, but all he found were phantom pains and no hole to be discovered.
He stared up at the dark ceiling, clutching his feathers, ignoring the voice. He found himself unable to move as tears fell down his face and his breathing picked up, leaving him such a pathetic mess.
It may have been a bad dream now, but it had been real once. Smitten had been someone's nightmare, and there was nothing he could do to take it back.
The damage was done, and it was all his fault.
Smitten choked on a gasp, feeling a finger catch a teardrop as it fell down his cheek. He managed to jerk his head to the side, finding Cold looking down at him, his gaze freezing him to the bed.
"It's just a dream," Cold said, as if that would solve everything easily. All Smitten could do was stare, wide eyed up at the other, feeling salt in his mouth and fear squeezing his heart.
His throat burned. His body shook. His heart was still cowering at his own demons.
Cold's eyes narrowed once he realised that Smitten wasn't taking in his words, but there was nothing that Smitten could do to fix it.
He felt so helpless, like he was drowning in his own memories with no way to get out- or if he even deserved to.
"Stop thinking like that," Cold softly ordered. "I know that look on your face, and it's a useless train of thought."
Smitten sucked in a deep breath, searching Cold's eyes for anything to grab onto and ground himself with.
"I- I can't-" Smitten gasped out, his fingers beginning to dig past his large plumage and into his skin, almost cutting his arm entirely. "It's- It's too much-"
More tears soaked his face as he gave Cold a desperate look.
Cold's eyes widened slightly, but he remained calm and collected as he scooted closer to Smitten, his frame curling around Smitten's round body completely.
Cold wrapped one arm around Smitten's waist, and the other went to his face, cupping his damp cheek softly and turning Smitten to look him in the eye.
"You need to get out of your own head," Cold calmly said, rubbing a thumb under his eye and catching a stray tear. "Don't focus on what you're feeling on the inside. Focus on what you can feel on the outside."
Cold hugged him close, pressing their chests together. "Can you feel my body? Can you feel it pressing against you?"
Smitten could. It felt like a solid wall against Smitten's trembling form, and his hands quickly reached out and clutched the front of Cold's robe, attempting to get as close as he could to Cold's steady and firm body.
He could feel their heartbeats trying to align themselves with each other, one racing and one calm, and Smitten slowly found himself taking in slower and deeper breaths, trying to match Cold's heart.
"Good," Cold said with a soft smile, and Smitten leaned his face into his hand with a sigh.
"You can hear my voice, can't you?" Cold said. "Just listen to my voice, Smitten. Don't listen to all the noise in your head. None of that matters, except for my voice."
Smitten released a breath, letting Cold's voice freeze over all the frantic and maddening demons in his mind, until it no longer felt like his head was spinning anymore, and his eyes fluttered shut, nuzzling further into Cold's hand.
Slowly, but surely, Smitten focused on nothing but Cold, letting the last remnants of his nightmare wash away from him, and it felt like his mind was finally becoming his again.
Smitten wasn't sure how long they stayed in that embrace, but when he eventually opened his eyes, Cold was gazing at him with a small, soft smile, and Smitten found himself returning the love to the other.
"Thank you," he whispered, and Cold just hummed, rubbing a hand up and down his back.
Smitten looked down in guilt as he quietly muttered, "It's- hard, to deal with the nightmares. I just wish I could handle it on my own."
Cold didn't say anything right away, but after a few minutes, Smitten let a noise of surprise out as Cold hugged him to his chest, bringing his knees up and wrapping himself even more around Smitten.
Smitten pressed his warm cheek against Cold's chest. This felt- safe. It felt like there was nothing in the world besides him and Cold right now.
"There's no shame in struggling with the past," Cold murmured, placing his chin atop of Smitten's head and bringing both arms around him. "You always feel so much, and you try to lift others up with that passion of yours."
Cold hugged him tighter, as he whispered, "It's okay to let somebody else hold your hand and guide you through your own heart."
Despite the quiet tone of his voice, Smitten could still hear the care in Cold's voice, and he smiled, snuggling against his chest.
"Thank you, Cold," Smitten whispered. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Cold replied, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head, before they both drifted off to slumber, and the only thing Smitten felt in his chest in that moment, was warmth and love.
