#honk.

There’s no noise when I jolt awake, no tears or screaming. I’m far too used to these nightmares at this point for anything like that. I’m even used to the ache in my limbs that begs for me to move; to get up and burn off the remaining adrenaline of a dream I’ve already forgotten. 

What I’m not used to is the pull towards something specific. Someone specific. Hades.

I drop my head against my pillow with a groan. I’m not sure what makes me want to fight my own instinct to go to the man; there’s no denying that he makes me feel something I haven’t quite gotten used to yet, and I’m man enough to admit that it scares me. I lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling for a moment before I can no longer stand being still. 

My pacing does nothing to slow the pounding of my heart, and I find myself out in the hall before I even realize what I’m doing. I take longer than I’d care to admit to gather the courage to ask Erebus where exactly I can find Hades. The answer comes immediately and next I know I’m standing in the hall, looking up at Hades’ office door. I hastily attempt to fix my hair and smooth down the front of my sleep shirt. I clear my throat and knock, hoping that my face doesn’t betray the near panic attack I’m having. 

“Enter, please.” Hades' voice is soft, gentle. It makes some of the tension fall from my shoulders when I push the door open. My previous hopes are quickly dashed when Hades immediately stands, concern clear on his face. He gestures for me to sit, following me over to the couch and kneeling beside me. In any other scenario, I’d laugh at the way he still looms over me, but my mouth has gone dry. “Del, are you alright?” 

I can’t bring myself to speak. I don’t know where I’d even begin speaking. Hades’ fingers brush over the back of my hand and I almost pull away instinctively, but instead I turn my hand over to capture his. Why Hades is different, why his touch doesn’t make my skin feel tight and itchy, I’ll never know. I know I need to say something so I start with the only thing I can trust myself to say, “I had a nightmare.” It sounds so mundane when I say it out loud and I can’t bear to look at him, so I look at the ground instead. “I just needed to be here.” My own voice startles me, I hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

There’s a spark of something in Hades’ voice when he speaks, something almost hopeful. “Away from your rooms, or..?” 

“With you.” I still hardly recognize that I’m the one speaking. “Here with you.” My chest tightens and I focus on the floor. I’m not used to being so... unsure of myself. I hear him swallow and prepare to be told to go back to my rooms. 

“How can I help?” Hades’ fingers are suddenly running through my hair and I can’t think. I can’t focus on anything except his blissfully cold skin against my scalp. 

What do I even say? I don’t even know why I’m here, let alone how he can help me. The only thing I can think to ask for is childish to the point of embarrassing, but I’ve come this far already. “Can you read me something?” I finally look up to Hades’ face and almost retract the request. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but he nods instead. 

“Of course. Do you have a preference? I could go to the library if-” 

I quickly shake my head. If I’m alone, I’ll fall apart. “Anything’s fine.” No point in anything but honesty now. “I just need to hear your voice.” The stunned look on Hades’ face almost makes me smile. If it hadn’t been the middle of the night and I wasn’t fighting a panic attack, I might have teased him over it. Nevermind that I probably feel more confused by my words than he does. 

I’m not used to it, needing someone. Is the honesty too far? Should I have come up with some lie to cover the fact that I’ve never felt as safe as I do sitting in his office? The notion is ridiculous, Hades and I are both adults who can handle the truth. No matter how shocking it may be. That, however, doesn’t stop the new panic rising in my chest. What if he doesn’t feel the way I do? What if I’m not as good at reading other people as I led myself to believe? What if-

I cut my thoughts off when Hades sits beside me. “Is this-” He starts, but I barely register the words before I lean against him. My body moves of its own volition, lifting one of Hades’ arms so I can curl into his side. I’m eternally grateful that he says nothing, just opens the book and begins reading. 

If you were to ask me any question about the story, I’d be at a loss for words. The only thing I can focus on is the way Hades’ voice washes away the last hints of tension in my muscles. I feel him relax, and I’m suddenly hit with how comfortable it all is. I can’t quite wrap my head around the idea that the most touch I’ve ever been comfortable with has been what is required in training or a spar. Yet here I am, with my husband reading to me after I had a nightmare and I’ve never been more at ease in my life. 

Suddenly Hades is draping a blanket over my shoulders, covering us both in the soft, blue throw. It makes me realize just how cool Hades’ skin really is, and how much I enjoy that. I try to focus on the words of the story, but then Hades brings his hand up to stroke through my hair in a way that seems almost unconscious. I have to bite down on my tongue to swallow whatever embarrassing noise was bubbling up from my throat. 

The longer we sit here, the harder it is to keep my eyes open and I’ve completely lost whatever story it was Hades was reading. Is this what it feels like to be in love? If I were more cognizant, the thought would have been enough to send me into another panic, but as I drift off against him, I can’t be bothered.

Hades shifts and drapes his arm around my shoulders and this time I’m far too exhausted to stop the quiet, little sigh from escaping. Through my sleep I’m vaguely aware of being lifted, carried by Hades towards my bed. I barely even stir when he gently lowers me into bed, just enough to be aware of his words but not sure if they were actually spoken or if it’s all a dream.