or how xavier comforts you after a nightmare (or stops them altogether)
You wake up drowning every morning.
Water in your lungs, rising up your throat, salt-water clinging to your lashes and dripping down your cheeks. Your lips are glued shut and it seems that all you can do after waking is relive your worst memories, your worst nightmares. You watch your loved ones go up in flames. You watch the love of your life disappear. You watch your life fall apart and wake up gasping, lips parted but words nowhere to be heard.
You're used to it by now, waking up to nothingness and an empty bed. You tell yourself it will be fine, that you'll grow out of it, but you never do. No matter the cost, no matter the effort, you always wake up non-verbal and crying over things you can't change. It scares you. You don't want to bear this burden forever. It makes you terrified of falling asleep, of waking up too late. The dreams come in the morning, so you make a habit of waking up early, setting an alarm to wake you. It's early, too early, and more often than not it's still dark when you wake and it tires you the whole day, but it's a necessary precaution. These nightmares aren't rational. They target the worst parts of your fears, and if you have to be dog-tired and a zombie everyday to avoid it, so be it. You're sick of suffering. There is too much suffering in the world and too much weight on your shoulders.
Of course, you don't tell your lover about this. The one person you trust the most, the one person that is always there for you, who holds you when you cry, who loves you so sweetly you wonder what you did to deserve this happiness. You don't want to tell him that you dream of his death and wake up gasping for breath and choking on your own fear, and that you wake up unreasonably early to avoid that. You want his coddling, but you don't want his worry. He's a sweet boy. He doesn't deserve that. You know he'd never leave your side if he knew, and you don't want to be a burden. Not again. Not to him.
So when he asks you to sleep over for the first time, it worries you, and he sees it in your face. A frown had appeared on his face, his lips curved downwards, and he'd pulled you into his arms and told you that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, that he didn't expect you to and that he just wanted you to feel comfortable and be held by him. You'd smiled, heart almost hurting with endearment, and told him that no, it's nothing, you kick in my sleep and that's it. Xavier had smiled and kissed you, eyes soft and lips trailing kisses down your collarbone, your shoulder. He was always gentle with you, because he knew you'd been handled roughly your entire life, flung aside, splintered and glued together again and again. He held you together. He was the sun to your star, and you loved that.
"Jus' want to hold you, my Star," he had murmured into your shoulder, smiling against your skin. How can you resist him when he asks so sweetly?
So that's how you ended up in his bed, Xavier's arm swung over you, his body so impossibly close you couldn't tell where yours began and his ended. You could smell his cologne, washed linen and vanilla and something that was mild and entirely him. He'd fallen asleep ages ago, mumbling pet names against your shoulder and kissing wherever he could reach until his movements stilled and his breathing slowed. You didn't want to risk sleep yourself, didn't want to embarass yourself in front of him, but the day had taken a toll on you, and the Wanderers had been so difficult today...
Before consciousness catches up, you fell asleep.
You wake up to warm golden light filtering through the blinds. It's not the kind of early light that pricks your eyes and leaves you tired for the rest of the day— it's much warmer, much later than you usually wake.
Then you blink and look around, feeling disoriented. It takes you a second to realise what's missing— the tears, the nightmares, the shortness of breath. It's such a strange feeling not to wake up crying that for a second you're dazed. Then you feel his arm over your stomach, his face pressed into your shoulder. Xavier.
The sight of him makes your eyes sting in a way you can't exactly explain. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, his lashes fanned over his cheek, his hair mussed and falling into his eyes, his lips just slightly parted. He looks so peaceful it makes your heart ache.
And that makes you feel safe, too.
The realisation makes your eyes prick with tears again, and you shift to get up, waking him in the process. Xavier looks up at you, eyes half lidded and impossibly sleepy in the way he looks half of the time.
He mumbles something incoherent into your skin. Pulling you into him again, he looks so much like a spoiled cat it's hard not to squeeze him.
"I just really appreciate you," you murmur. "Like a lot. I never really tell you that, so I just wanted to. I don't ever want to lose you."
He starts to look worried at your words, so you kiss his forehead and smile before he can fret like he tends to sometimes.
"Can I sleep over again tomorrow?"
"Every day," he murmurs, kissing your cheek. "Every time you want to."
kianamaiart
theartofmadeline
turnnoffyourmind
