Their voice lulls you out of a daze, and your turn your head. They're looking at you with an expression that matches their tone—soft, with a faint hint of concern. You slowly shake your head.
"I was, but-" You sigh, and the sheets knotted between your fingers crease as your grip tightens. This keeps happening, you waking in the dead of night. It's frustrating, it's exhausting, and you don't know what to do to just sleep.
You feel movement from the other side of the bed before a hand cups your cheek, thumb tracing the corner of your eye as it brushes away rising tears. "I'm just so tired," you mumble, throat tight.
"I know," they murmur, voice softening into a tone they reserve only for you. "I know." A pause, thoughtful. "Do you want to get up? Walking around might help reset things."
It takes your mind a while to catch up, lagging from fatigue, but eventually you shake your head again.
"No, I- I just want to try and go back to sleep." They shuffle closer, pulling the sheets higher over both of you.
"Okay," they yawn, "do you want a story?" It's a familiar question, one they've learned to ask when you're struggling to rest. Despite it all, you feel a smile tug at the corner of your lips.
When you give an affirmative hum, they start to speak in a breath low and hushed. As they share a story from their day, a fairytale from their childhood, or a tale woven entirely from their imagination—just for you—their hands slowly stroke across your hair, your shoulders, your arms, your back, leaving warm echoes of gentle touch in their wake. Every motion, coupled with the thrum of their voice, reminds you that you are safe, held lovingly in a place of peace. Restlessness steadily gives way to relief, and you feel yourself lean into them. Their breath is warm as they huff; you can almost hear their smile.
They press a soft kiss to your head as words and sensations begin to meld, the blue-grey of night drifting into dreaming darkness.
gummygunk
areudirty
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
jbbartram-illu
andulkaphoto
izzy806
